apparent,

that my

motives cannot be of the sordid

or mercenary kind.

Of this sort they cannot be. Your own prosperity, the happiness of my fellow creatures, and, above all, the honour of the common Benefactor of mankind, are, I trust, the grand objects for the accomplishment of which I have now taken the pen in my hand.

To brilliant actions, and great terrestrial glory, you have been destined. Is your elevation to a high summit of worldly grandeur the effect of mere accident; of blind chance? No. The pen of inspiration informs us, that promotion cometh neither from the east nor from the west; but the great Ruler of all worlds putteth down one, and setteth up another. How rich the profusion of providential beneficence with which you have been favoured! How strong, inviolable, endless your obligations to the best of benefactors! Did he not, with a watchful eye, guard you in your mother's womb, and, while a helpless infant, you hung upon her breasts? Did he not conduct you, in safety, through all the slippery paths of youth? Has he not protected you in the midst of enemies, and dangers, and deaths? How important in its time, and its great consequences, was your arrival from the confines of Egypt in the capital of France? The convulsed, distracted, and almost

ruined state of this fine country, at that critical period, will long be remembered and lamented by all the friends of humanity. To save one of the best countries, and one of the bravest nations on earth, the reins of government were deposited in your hands. How important the deposit; and how great the trust! By you, glorious actions have been performed; and from you, great things are still expected. Your exalted situation has put much in your power; and I must remind you, that for the performance of your duty, you are responsible to that great Being, to whom you are indebted for your advancement.

I need not tell you, Sir, that terrestrial glory is extremely precarious. How unstable all earthly thrones! How fading all earthly crowns! How numerous the instances of worldly revolutions, which the history of past ages records; and how big with admonitions and instruction to us! To worldly advantages and distinctions the grim messenger Death pays no respect. From one common earth were the high and the low, the rich and the poor, taken; to one common earth they all return. In the subterraneous state, the dust of the potentate and the peasant is blended. The most philosophical eye is unable to discern between the remains of the one and of the other.

I must say, not one moment of doing good is to be neglected. The greater the opportunities of usefulness, the more criminal and hurtful the neglect.

Allow me, Sir, warmly to recommend to you, as a man and a migistrate, the practice and encouragement of the Christian religion. Is not religion the chief glory of human nature? Is it not religion that renders the man so much superior to the brute? Does not instinct in many animals seem to approach near to reason in man? Nay, are there not instances in which the former, in certain animals, appears to excel the latter in some men? But to religion no irrational animal can make any pretensions. Of a Deity, none of them seem to have the smallest idea. Shall any man, then, neglect that in which the chief glory of his nature consists? Can any man be wanting in duty to himself, and the honour of his nature, so far as to debase himself to a brute? Is not religion attended with every advantage and excellence that can recommend any object to our attention and esteem? It was said of a celebrated philosopher, all who knew him, loved him. And, with distinguished propriety, may it be affirmed of the religion of Jesus, All who know it, love it; and, if any do not love it, the reason is, they do

not know it. To be the successful instrument of the promotion and extension of this heavenly religion, is the greatest happiness and honour that can be conferred on man; a happiness, an honour that will continue unfaded and flourishing, when sublunary sceptres, and thrones, and crowns, are known no more,

Of penal laws, sanguinary statues, methods of compulsion and force, our holy religion has no need; nay, all such means it disavows and rejects. But means wisely adapted to the genius of the Christian religion, fully compatible with the rights of man, and the freedom of moral agency, and happily calculated to accomplish every salutary purpose. Heaven has sanctioned and now put in your power. Great, extensive, resistless, must your influence and example be. In a manner most honourable to yourself, and highly conducive to the present and future happiness of your fellow creatures, both in the mother country and her distant colonies, may it be employed!

Important is the discrimination between the religious and the irreligious. Under these two grand divisions, the numerous individuals of the human species are comprehended. Among the one or the other each of us will, in the day of

final retribution, be found. For, as an apostolical writer speaks, we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ. Dread tribunal!

Long has the final catastrophe been predicted. Often has the prediction been repeated. For reasons best known to the most high God of Heaven and Earth, the event has hitherto been delayed. But delays with us are not delays with him. A day and a thousand years are with him as one thing.

Is the second advent of that all-glorious person, who is at once the Saviour and the Judge of the world, delayed? Do we remain unprepared for it; nay, forgetful of it? Inexcusable must we be. How certain the approach of the day of accounts! and how sudden! In different lights does the scripture introduce it. Opposite aspects does it assume. It smiles and frowns; it allures and alarms. How animating and how alarming the declaration from the mouth of that Almighty Redeemer, who has universal and unlimited authority and power in Heaven and on EarthThem that honour me, I will honour, but they that despise me, shall be lightly esteemed?

The terrors of the day of final decision, what tongue can utter; what mind can conceive? I