The devotion which is here intended is neither philosophical nor mystical; it is neither that of an angel, nor of man as he stood in his original innocence; nor is it the mere ebullition of fancy heated with its own visions; it is the devotion of man in his present fallen and sinful state, after he is brought to a proper acquaintance with God and with himself.

Two of the main ingredients which enter into its composition, are humility and love; and they are equally ingredients of true happiness. The humility of a Christian does not proceed, as some are ready to imagine, from a disparaging view of his own character, or a superstitious dread of the Deity, but from a just fense of his own meanness and depravity, compared with the majesty and purity of the divine nature. It is a disposition founded in truth; and when accompanied, as it ought to be, with hopes of mercy through a mediator, diffuses in the soul a satisfaction, which can never be derived from a principle of

pharisaic righteousness. Even in relation to this life, a due perception and acknowledgment of our demerits, with a generous dependence on the equitable allowance of our fellow-creatures, yields a far superior joy to any which can arise from a complacency in our own imaginary worth.

The connection of happiness with the love of God is still more obvious. Every one is sensible of the delight which springs from the love of a deserving and amiable earthly friend, especially when the regard is reciprocal. What then must be his enjoyment, who loves and is beloved by that Being before whom all created excellency fades away, and all created good is poor and diminutive; who looks up with gratitude to the common parent, and who feels himself the object of his tender affection! In such favoured circumstances, the cup of human bliss must run over.

Further, the relation which devotion bears to true happiness will appear, if we

consider it as expressing itself in acts of prayer and praise. By prayer, when it is genuine, an intercourse is carried on between heaven and earth; the soul addresses herself to God, and is answered in returns of blessing, either in the grant of her particular requests, or in some other way more suitable to her necessities; and, at peculiar seasons, in the very act of supplication, may be indulged with such a sense of the divine presence, as far exceeds every delight of a worldly nature; which ought not to appear incredible to any one who considers with how much joy the bosom of a humble petitioner is inspired, when admitted to an exalted human presence, and his request is listened to with condescension and favour.

And if joy may thus spring from the supplicatory part of devotion, the pious mind may expect to derive it still more largely from the part which is laudatory. If it is pleasing to entreat blessings of the Almighty, under that encouraging expec

tation of success which is afforded us, it must be still more pleasing to return him our praises when our requests are granted; and from personal favours to rise to a general celebration of the divine works and attributes, to mount upwards to angelic adoration, and to unite with the hosts above in ascriptions of glory to the greatest and best of beings. Thus, by a spirit of praise, may good men, here on earth, auticipate the blessedness of heaven.

I am aware, that what is now advanced must to many appear overstrained and fanciful. It must appear so to those who study nature without a regard to its Author; to those who mistake humanity for piety; and, lastly, to those who place their religion merely in opinions, whether true or false, or in any acts of external worship. To all such there is ground to apprehend, that, after the best description which can be given, the pleasures of true devotion will remain almost as unknown as the delight of harmony is to the deaf,

other beauty of a fine landscape when the faculty of vision is wanting; whilst, to the pious Christian, they are pleasures which are perfectly intelligible; as he knows them, in some degree, from his experience, and has found them as much raised above all others as the heavens are exalted above the earth.

That men who have tasted this superior happiness should be induced, in order to enjoy it in a fuller measure, to withdraw themselves from the world, is a consequence which might naturally be expected; nor is it impossible that many of the first Christian monasteries owe their establishment to this principle. Had their design been somewhat less seraphical, (if I may be allowed the expression,) and more accommodated to the present state of human nature, their success might have been greater: for as man is a complex being, formed for action as well as for contemplation, he must be provided for in both capacitics, in order to reap fully the fruit