sensual indulgence, but too plainly not unfrequently to loss of character declared to me, that disobedience to the commands of God, has its bitter consequences in this world, as well as its final punishment in the world to come. Sinful propensities may indeed for a season be indulged with seeming impunity, but at length they will "bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder;" and disclose a wider application of that Scripture sentence, than is sometimes thought of--“ Be sure your sin will find you out." and final ruin,—by suicide, or by the visitation of the laws. Whatever then may be the impression of young men as to the propriety of signing any resolutions, to abstain from sensual indulgences; there can be but one impression concerning the importance of personal chastity, if its present debasing effects, its certain tendencies, and its future consequences be for one moment taken into account. "Fornication," says There is one sin, especially, to Paley, "produces habits of ungovernwhich young men in the metropolis able lewdness, which introduce the are peculiarly exposed; and, which, more aggravated crimes of seduction, from its awfully debasing character, adultery, violation, &c. Likewise, and the bitter consequences it entails, however it be accounted for, the crishould be pointed out, as with a minal commerce of the sexes corrupts beacon-flame, to every young man and depraves the mind and moral chawho is not deaf to the voice of in-racter more than any single species of struction, and beyond the reach of vice whatsoever. That ready percephope. Many are the incentives to tion of guilt, that prompt and decisive lust in this city; and many are there resolution against it, which constiamongst the young who follow the tutes a virtuous character, is seldom enticements of her "whose steps take found in persons addicted to these hold on hell"-but "they know not indulgences. They prepare an easy that the dead are there; and that her admission for every sin that seeks it; guests are in the depths of hell." are, in low life, usually the first stage The excitement of drinking; the fas- in man's progress to the most descination of the theatre; the reading perate villanies; and, in high life, to of amorous poetry, or of prose com- that lamented dissoluteness of prinpositions of a libidinous character; ciple, which manifests itself in a prothe keeping late hours; the company fligacy of public conduct, and a conof females, especially of unchaste tempt of the obligations of religion, character, are all direct encitements and of moral probity. Add to this, to the commission of the sin of forni- that habits of libertinism incapacitate cation. But however the flame of and indispose the mind for all intelsensual desire may be enkindled, this lectual, moral, and religious pleamuch is certain, its indulgence will sures. A sensualized youth almost not end in the act of transgression. invariably terminates in confirmed It will assuredly induce, as its na-profligacy; and it is a case of daily tural train, other sins ruinous to the occurrence that parents are called to character and prospects, and entailing follow their children to a premature final misery and disgrace. Scarcely grave; and as they pour the scalding an instance perhaps could be pro- tear upon their tomb, exclaim-" My duced, in which the indulgence of un- son, my son, would God I had died lawful desire by intercourse with lewd for thee." women, has not led to peculation and embezzlements; often to gaming, and (To be continued.) ANSWER TO EXERCISE. No. I. God, incessantly doing good, dying for our redemption, and saving all who believe in him; and the third, "that there is something in it so IN our last Number the Exercise amiable, so gracious, so altogether proposed, related to the Evidences of lovely, and so congenial to the betChristianity ;-the evidences enu- ter feelings of our nature, that my merated were those arising from pro- mind has reposed on it with a degree of phecy, miracles, the character of pleasure, which not all the crafty inChrist, the internal harmony, and sinuations of the sceptic could disuniversal adaptation of the Christian turb or destroy." A fourth corressystem, the early success of the Gos-pondent (Georgius) considers the pel, and from its transforming practi- evidence from prophecy the most concal influence; and the questions for vincing, because his own belief in consideration were,-First, Which of these evidences is most impressive and convincing to your own mind? and, Secondly, Can you assign any reason, or reasons, why it is so? Christianity was confirmed, by tracing the wonderful analogy between their predictions of the Old Testament concerning Christ, and the history of their fulfilment in the New. A fifth (R. A. G.) prefers the evidence arising from the success of the Gospel, since that success cannot be accounted for on any known natural prin The answers which we have received are so numerous and various; many of them are so remarkable for their simplicity, or ingenuity, or cogency; and nearly all of them for a ciples. A sixth (W. F.) selects the pervading spirit of piety, that we are internal evidence, or excellence of not only gratified, but are free to ac- the Gospel system, as commending knowledge, that our expectations are itself to the taste of the renewed greatly surpassed. The advanced mind; and is compelled to exclaim day of the month on which our last with Rousseau, "The holiness of the Number was published, does not al- Gospel affects my heart." Three low us time for furnishing so exten- others regard the practical and transsive an analysis of the replies as we forming power of the Gospel as precould desire. We need not remind eminent of these, the first two (N. our correspondents, however, that the R., and A Well-wisher) assign as the principal benefit contemplated by the ground of their preference, the GosExercises, result, not from our pub- pel reason," that a bad tree cannot lishing, but from their preparing of itself produce good fruit;" and them, and imprinting them on the the third, (J. C. W.,) among several tablets of their minds. reasons, states, "that the religious example of another was the means of beneficially impressing his own mind; and that the Gospel itself states, that the religious life of a Christian is a light, which, by shining before men, is to glorify our Father, who is in heaven." Three of our correspondents specify the Character of Christ as the most impressive evidence of the divinity of the Gospel: one of them (A. B.) assigning as his reason for this preference, the melting and attractive influence which it exercises on his heart; the second, (W. C. Smith,) 1. The purity of our Lord's character, and 2. The benevolence of his designs-in fulfilling the law of : The replies which we have thus briefly noticed are the principal. May each of these correspondents be enabled to say, with the men of Sa When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it. maria, "Now we believe, not because in the art he himself professes; it of thy saying, for we have heard him savours of arrogancy. ourselves; and we know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world." To perceive that there is a holy principle within us, which is not naturally of us, but yet takes the control of our whole nature-this is the personal and experimental evidence of the truth of the Gospel, the highest the Christian can enjoy and by which he himself becomes a living epistle, a newly written letter from Christ to the world. USEFUL EXERCISES. No. II. THE Appendix to to the second volume of Washington's writings contains a number of rules, adapted especially to the social life and manners of the young. His code, consisting of a hundred and ten regulations, is said to have been drawn up when he was only thirteen years old. Many of them evidently left their signature on his character for life. The following are a specimen : Show not yourself glad at the misfortunes of another, though he were your enemy. They that are in dignity, or in office, have in all places precedency; but whilst they are young, they ought to respect those that are their equals in birth, or other qualities, though they have no public charge. Let your discourse with men of business be short and comprehensive. In writing or speaking, give to every person his due title, according to his degree, and the custom of the place. Strive not with your superiors in argument, but always submit your judgment to others with modesty. Undertake not to teach your equal Being to advise, or reprehend any one, consider whether it ought to be in public or in private, presently or at some other time; in what terms to do it; and in reproving, show no signs of anger, but do it with sweetness and mildness. Take all admonitions thankfully, in what time or place soever given ; but afterwards, not being culpable, take a time or place convenient to let him know it that gave them. Mock not, nor jest at any thing of importance; break no jests that are sharp-biting; and if you deliver any thing witty and pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of any. Associate yourself with men of good quality, if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company. Be not forward, but friendly and courteous; the first to salute, hear, and answer; and be not pensive when it is a time to converse. Undertake not what you cannot perform; but be careful to keep your promise. In disputes, be not so desirous to overcome, as not to give liberty to each one to deliver his opinion, and submit to the judgment of the major part, especially if they are judges of the dispute. Be not tedious in discourse; make not many digressions, nor repeat often the same manner of discourse. Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust. When you speak of God, or his attributes, let it be seriously in reverence. Honour and obey your parents, although they be poor. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. Labour to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience. This, indeed, is a subject of a less lofty character than the former; but which, if treated with self-application, may be made equally useful. Here let the questions for consideration be the coachman, replacing his foot on the 'Why didn't you say so at first?' said nave of the wheel. The boy retreated a step into the shade. pence.' Are not you very cold?' said the gentleman, after a short interval. as follows: first, Which of these reso-tleman on the coach, I will find you eighteen'Come, jump up, my lad,' cried a genlutions is the least important? and the reason why? Second, Which is the most important? and on what account? and, What passages of Scripture directly, or indirectly, enforce the resolution. DERIVATIONS. "THERE is no word in the English language so much abbreviated from its original, as the word 'alms,' from the Greek nuoovvn. Six syllables are contracted into one; thus, el-e- e-mos-u-ne-elemosune-elmosn (from which the French aumône) alms; in Italian limosina, from the same original. The practice amongst modern nations of appropriating different parts of words from the dead languages, is by no means uncommon; as in the proper name Johannes, the English take the first part, John; and the Dutch the last, Hans. These instances of derivation made an impression upon me, because they were told me, when a boy, by the two greatest masters of their day in language: the first by Horne Tooke; the second by Porson; both of whom possessed the gratifying faculty of adapting their conversation to the young and unlearned. The word alms, in the original, signifies something given from the motive of pity; but however amiable the feeling, we should be careful not to indulge it idly and indiscriminately. Giving with discretion is a great virtue; it is twice blest, and the extent of its benefits can never be foreseen to either party. Illustrative of this is the following narrative, of a few shillings well laid out. "As the burly coachman of one of the northern stages was remounting his box one bleak November night at the door of a little inn noted for spiced ale: 'Not very,' replied the boy, rubbing his of his cotton trousers. hands cheerily up and down in the pockets 'Not very; I was thinking of London.' 'And what are you going to do there?' said the gentleman. The boy replied, that he was going to be bound apprentice to his uncle, who kept a cook's shop in the Borough. Then he told his own little history, and how he had travelled up one hundred and fifty miles with the few shillings his widowed mother had been able to muster for him; and he concluded with a very intelligent account of his native place, and a no less amusing one of the principal people in its neighbourhood. 'And what do you intend to do to-night?' said the gentleman. 'I shall go to my uncle's,' said the boy. 'But how will you find him out? We shall not arrive before midnight; besides, your uncle will be gone to bed. Come, I will give you five shillings, and you can stay comfortably at the inn till morning.' At the first appearance of lamps, the boy began to count them, and had just given up with the exclamation, Well! if there are not more lamps in this one street than in all our town!' when the coachman called out to him 'I say, young man, where are you going to put yourself to-night?' boy. I shall stop where you stop,' said the but 'But you've no money, you know.' Ay,' said the boy, triumphantly, this gentleman will give me some.' 'So much the better for you,' said the coachman. At the inn, the gentleman took the boy apart, and putting five shillings into his hand, told him to get a comfortable supper, and a good night's rest, and not to let any one know how much money he had. 'In the morning,' continued he, make yourself as decent as you can, and go to your uncle's 'What is your business with me, young man?' said Mr. B., as a decently dressed, smart youth of about seventeen was shown into the library. I am the boy, Sir, you gave five shillings to on the coach, three years since, last November.' What do you say?' said Mr. B.- O, now I recollect the circumstance, though I do not recollect you; but what is your will with me, and how did you contrive to find me out?' The youth told his story, interrupted by occasional questions from Mr. B., in nearly the following words: how I like it.' The donor of the pie made his appearance at the appointed time, and his anxiety was changed into delight, when he found his present had given satisfaction to Mr. B. Finding, from examination, that he had attended more to pie-making than to scholarship, he advised him to devote his leisure time to attendance upon some competent master; 'For,' said he, if you get on in the world, which you seem well qualified to do, you will find the want of suitable acquirements a constant hinderance and mortification. Lose no time in beginning, and I will charge myself with the expense.' With such encouragement it is not to be wondered at, that the scholar soon came to write a beautiful hand, and to be more than commonly expert in accounts, by which means he was enabled greatly to assist his less learned uncle, who, in return, made him first his partner, and finally his heir; and to his benefactor, who happened to possess a neglected property in the vicinity of his residence, he was fortunate enough, by his local knowledge and zealous superintendence, to render the most important services." THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S GRAVE. Ir was a sweet spot in a quiet village church When you gave me the money, Sir, I felt more than I said. Your name I saw on your portmanteau, and I happened to hear your servant tell the hackney-coachman where to drive; so it came into my mind that I would never rest till I had shown you that I was not ungrateful. In a few days I came to look at your house. I owe you more than you think, Sir. When I found my uncle, I will say, he received me kindly enough; but he seemed to look upon me much more, as soon as he heard how a gen-yard, where the remains of a beloved young tleman like you had been pleased to stand my friend; and I do not think but I should have been a very different character to what I am, if I had not had the good fortune to see you. I should have come long ago, but I hope you will excuse me for saying I did not forget your advice not to neglect my mother. Now, however, she is so comfortably off, that she has sent me word I need trouble myself no farther on her account. I hope, Sir, you will not take it amiss' (here he paused and blushed;)—but why I have taken the liberty to come to day is, my uncle at this time of the year, makes a kind of a large, seasoned pie, which is much thought of by the better sort of people in our neighbourhood. It will be nothing to a gentleman like you, I know; but if you will only allow me to bring you one, said the youth, in a supplicatory tone. Well,' said Mr. B. with a smile, as I clearly perceive it is a free offering on your part, I accept it willingly. Your gratitude does you great credit. Bring your pie as soon as you please, and let me see you again this day week, that I may tell you friend were deposited by the weeping parents and connexions, there to slumber in undisturbed tranquillity, till the resurrection morning. The village where the friend of my youth resided, for many years, and where, at last, he expired, was one of great retiredness and beauty. It was in one of the sylvan parts of England: situated in the lap of some romantic hills, and surrounded by the richest pastoral scenery. The habitations in the village were not numerous, but they were exceedingly simple and interesting. They had their cultivated little gardens, before and around them, and it was beautiful, in the month of May, to mark the variety of flowers which were then blooming in all their loveliness, and shedding abroad their rich and honied fragrance. The habitation where a dear friend and his family resided, was one of a peculiarly attractive character. It was an ornamented cottage, chaste in its decorations, and embosomed in the loveliest scenery. It had a beautiful garden surrounding it; and, at a short distance, there was an orchard of considerable extent, where "the golden fruits of autumn" were |