derstanding, the love, all the affections and faculties of the soul, and organs of our bodies; all our words, actions, and thoughts, prayers and vows, hymns and thanksgivings, piety, modesty, charity, and the whole choir of virtues, exercised in a diligent and harmonious observance of all his precepts. These are victims and perfumes of incense worthy so pure a Deity, who eats not the flesh of bulls, nor drinks the blood of goats; who, if he were hungry would not tell us, for all the beasts of the forest are his, and the cattle upon a thousand hills. Offer unto God thanksgivings, and pay thy vows unto the Most High. For he that offereth praise glorifies him, and to him that orders his conversation aright, will he show the salvation of God.

Even the heathen philosophers and poets saw and taught, that these sacrifices of a pious mind were most fit for a rational worshipper, and must be most fit for God, to whom they are addressed. Strange indeed would it be," says Socrates, "if the gods should look to the gift and sacrifice, and not the soul." And passages of Horace and Persius to this purpose are so well known, that they need not be repeated. The language of the son of Sirach is also agreeable to it. He that keepeth the law, bringeth offerings enough: he that taketh heed to the commandment, offereth a peace offering. He that requiteth a good turn, offereth fine flour, and he that giveth alms, sacrificeth praise. To depart from wickedness is a thing pleasing to the Lord, and to forsake unrighteousness is a propitiation.

And put your trust in the Lord. This very trust, with which the mind reposes itself upon God, is both the great consolation of a good man, and the great sacrifice of piety and righteousness. The faith of Abraham was a sacrifice much dearer to God, not only than the ram which he actually offered, but even than his dearest son whom he had brought to the altar. He was strong in faith, says the apostle, and so he gave glory to God. And again, only they who offer the sacrifice of righteousness can rely upon him with a true and solid confidence. Not that these sacrifices, though the choicest and best of all, can pretend to any merit, but because they are the most genuine signs and most certain seals of a soul in

covenant with God. So that there is indeed a mutual signing; God offering the dearest pledges of his favour to us, and we in like manner, as is most fit, rendering all that we have and all that we are to him, with the most humble and grateful heart. And certainly this union and perpetual undivided friendship, is the true vovuía of the holy soul; that temperature which alone can give it solid tranquillity and felicity, as it follows presently after in this psalm.

Ver. 6. There be many that say, Who will show us any good? Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.

THE psalmist now returns to himself and his own affairs, and having sufficiently admonished his enemies concerning the true and only good, enforces his exhortation by his example, that if they thought fit, they might follow it, for this is the most efficacious manner of teaching; but if they would not, that he might at least enjoy the benefit of his own counsel, and wrapping himself up in his own happiness, might from that eminence, look down upon all the vain and wretched pursuits of the mad vulgar. Like drunken men, they reel and stagger from place to place; they often fall down upon their face, and strike and dash themselves against what they desired to embrace. Through all their life with an unstable pace, they catch at flying forms of good; and after all their falls and their bruises, they cry out again and again, Who will show us any good? And when they behold any new species or shadow of it, they immediately run to it. Nay, perhaps, so light and various are they in their pursuit, they return again to that in which they had been frequently deceived, and which they had so often abandoned. Rabbi Solomon paraphrases the words thus: "When Israel saw the nations prosperous, he said, Who will show us a like prosperity? But David says, Envy them not; we have a sublimer prosperity in the light of thy Divine countenance." "That is good," says the great philosopher of the schools, "which all pursue." The various affections and desires of the mind, are as the pulse and natural respiration; but certain internal principles, which, not inwrought by nature, are afterwards received and deeply

engraved upon the heart, are the springs of that motion; our.different opinions of different things do nevertheless all meet in this, that "we would see good." But they who select from the various objects that present themselves a suitable, complete, and substantial good, and who, neglecting every thing else, bend all their pursuits to that, are the only wise and happy men.

This the psalmist professes he did, and freely invites all that pleased, to join and take a part with him in these desires and pursuits, well knowing that the happiness was abundantly sufficient for many, for all that would apply themselves to it, and such as could not at all be diminished by being imparted; for it was indeed the AVTάρKES KAλov, the self-sufficient and all-sufficient Good, which was one of the titles that some of the wiser heathens gave their Jupiter. But he of whom we speak is the living and the true God; nor is there any other good whatsoever adequate to the human mind. And what we say of his infinite sufficiency is most aptly signified by this adumbration which the psalmist uses,-I say by the adumbration of light, nor do I think fit to correct it as an incongruous expression, for light is indeed as it were the shadow of God, and that fulness of supreme good, which is in him, is in some degree shadowed out by light, which entirely illustrates, with the full stream of its rays, all who behold it, and is not broken into little fragments, to be sparingly distributed to each. Many seek many things; they pursue any good with uncertain and ignorant desires; but we have fixed upon the one petition we should insist upon, for in this one is all, Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us. O rich, grand, and incomparable desire! Without this, all the proudest palaces of monarchs are gloomy caverns, dark as hell, and all the riches of all the earth, mere indigence. This is the proper light of the intellectual world, and it puts gladness into the heart, as it follows.

Ver. 7. Thou hast put gladness into my heart more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased. Gladness into my heart; to which the gross delights of earthly things cannot reach: they stick as it were before the threshold. Corn and wine are only the refreshment

of these mean, frail, earthly bodies, and the support of this corporeal and terrene life, but have nothing congenial with and akin to the heaven-born spirit. It is said indeed that bread strengthens man's heart, and wine makes it glad; but the heart there spoken of is that which is the spring of animal life and natural spirit; whereas, to that heart which holds the preference in human nature, which may therefore be called the governing part, there is nothing which gives light and gladness, beneath the eternal Father of lights and of spirits. He cherishes the languishing soul with the rays of his love, and satisfies it with the consolations of his Spirit, as with a kind of heavenly nectar, or nepenthe, that, while it confides in his safety, lays all its cares and fears asleep, and lulls it into deep peace, and calm sweet repose; without which if the mind be a little agitated, no gentle breeze of harmony, no melody of birds or harp, can bring on the pleasing slumber, during which nevertheless the heart awakes. O happy man, who betakes his whole soul to God, and does not only choose him above all, but in the place of all, waiting only on him! Happy man, who having been chosen by him with preventing love and unmerited benignity, embraces his ample all-sufficient Creator for his inheritance and his wealth, often repeating with sacred transport, "My God and my all!" This is the man that has enough; and therefore to allude to the words of the poet, He is not disquieted by the raging of the sea, nor any severity of the seasons, whatever stars may rise and

set.

God fixes his gracious dwelling in the pure and holy soul which has learned to despise the vanity of riches, and makes it calm in the midst of hurries, and secure in the deepest solicitudes. And not merely to find, but even to seek after God, is better to such a soul, inexpressibly better than to possess the richest treasure, the most extensive empire, or to have all the variety of sensual pleasures waiting upon its beck.

I remember to have read of some military officers, who crossing the Nile in the same boat with the two Macarii of Egypt, said to them, in allusion to their name, “You are indeed happy, who laugh at the world." "Yes," said they, "it is evident that we are happy, not merely in

name but in reality, but you are unhappy whom the world derides as poor creatures whom it sees entangled in its snares."

St. Augustine also quotes from Politian, a similar example of a pretorian soldier, who walking out with his comrade, found in a cottage, into which he accidentally came, a book containing the life of the hermit Anthony, and when he had read a little in it, looking upon his friend, said, "At what are we taking so much pains to arrive? What do we seek? For what do we go through the fatigues of a military life? The highest of our hopes at court must be, to share some extraordinary degree of the emperor's favour. And how frail and dangerous a situation is that! And through how many other previous dangers must we pass to it! And how soon will all the advantages we can hope from it be over! But I may this moment, if I please, become the friend and favourite of God." And he had no sooner uttered these words, than they both resolved upon quitting the world, that they might give up all the remainder of their days to religion.

Holy men in former ages did wonders in conquering the world and themselves; but we, unhappy, degenerate, and drowsy creatures as we are, blush to hear that they I did what we cannot or will not do. We are indeed inclined to disbelieve the facts, and rather choose to deny their virtues, than to confess our own indolence and cowardice.

PSALM XXXII.

Ver. 1. Blessed is the man whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.

O THE pure, the overflowing, the incomparable sweet fountain of scripture!

"Hence light we draw, and fill the sacred cup." Whereas the springs of philosophy in human affairs are not very clear, and in divine they are quite turbid and muddy; which one of the greatest orators and philosophers among them all freely confesses. "I think," says