ture has no part of its character, of which more ftriking examples are given in every part of the globe. What is it that ftirs in the breasts of ordinary men when the enemies of their country are named? Whence are the prejudices that fubfift between different provinces and villages of the fame empire and territory? What is it that excites one half of the nations of Europe against the other? The ftatesman may explain this conduct upon motives of national jealoufy and caution; but the people have diflikes and antipathies, which proceed from fentiment, not from reasoning. Among them the materials of war and diffenfion are laid without the direction of government, and sparks are ready on every occafion to kindle into a flame.

This being the difpofition of the people, happy is that inftitution which prevails in a part of this ifland*, of putting arms into the hands of the people, of making every citizen a foldier in his turn, and by this means having a force at hand to rife in arms at any fudden emergency. When fuch a fyftem of military arrangements takes place, the profperity of a ftate becomes independent of fingle men ; there is a wisdom which never dies, and a valour which is immortal. A state may hire troops, but valour is not to be bought; the wealth of a nation will procure foldiers to fight its battles, but let it not be forgotten, that the poffeffions of the fearful are easily seized, that a timorous multitude falls into rout of itfelf. Ramparts may be erected, and the implements of war may be furnished, by a pacific people; but let it be remembered as an eternal truth, that Originally published before the institution of the Scottish Militia.

there is no rampart which is impregnable to valour, that arms are only of confequence when they are in the hands of the brave, and that the only price of freedom is the blood of the free. When an ancient Spartan was asked what was the wall of his city? he pointed to a band of brave men; a defence more permanent and more effectual than the rock and the cement with which other cities are fortified.

Lastly, The public welfare confifts in the national character. That righteousness exalteth a nation, and that vice is not only a reproach, but also a depreffion to any people, are truths fo univerfally received, as to require little confirmation. All lawgivers in all ages have thought fo, and made it their object to cultivate justice and temperance, and fortitude and industry, conscious that public virtue is the fource of public happiness. Philofophers and moralifts have been of the fame opinion, and have taught, with one confent, that the morality of the people was the ftability of the government, and the true fource of public profperity. Practice and experience have confirmed the truth of these fpeculations. If we confult the history of the most renowned nations that have made a figure in the world, we shall find, that they rofe to greatness by virtue, and funk to nothing by vice; that they obtained dominion by their temperance, their probity of manners, and a ferious regard to religion; and that when they grew diffolute, corrupted and profane, they became flaves to their neighbours, whom they were no longer worthy to govern. Public depravity paves the way for public ruin. When the health and vigour of the political conftitution is broken, it is haftening to its decline.

When internal fymptoms of weakness appear, the leaft external violence will accomplish its diffolution. Befides the natural tendency of virtue to make nations great and happy, if we have juft notions of divine Providence, if we believe that the perfections of God are at all concerned in human affairs, virtuous nations will be his peculiar care, and under his immediate protection; he will counsel their counsellors, cover their armies in the day of battle, and crown them with victory and peace.

SERMON

HEBREWS ix. 27,

XXX.

It is appointed to men once to die; but after this the judgment.

DEATH is the conclufion of all events;

of all that ever have been, and of all that ever will be, The schemes of the bafe, the plots of the ambitious, the projects of the vifionary, the studies of the learned, all terminate here. However different the paths be that we take in life, they all lead to the grave. Whilft, therefore, we make death the subject of contemplation, and meditate upon the house which is appointed for all living, let us take this thought along with us, that we shall bear a part in those scenes which we now describe, and that we are meditating on a fate which will one day be our own.

In the first place, Let us confider death as an event, the period of which is uncertain.

In the days when Noah entered into the ark, they did eat, they drank, they married, they were given in marriage; and the flood came, and deftroyed them all. On the day that Lot went out of Sodom, they did eat, they drank, they bought, they fold, they planted, they builded; and it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all. As it was in the days of Noah and in the days of Lot, even thus, my friends, fhall it be to you when the day of death cometh. In the present ftate of things, the

foul of man is blind to futurity. Surrounded with material objects, and occupied in prefent affairs, we make these the sole objects of attention; we find in them the only fources of attachment, and overlook thofe fpiritual and diftant events on which our future life and happiness depend. Hence, we are always furprised with our latter end, and the day of the Lord cometh like a thief in the night. No inftruction can make us fo wife as to confider our latter end; no warning can incite us to fet our houses in order, that we may die; and no example give the alarm fo ftrong, as to fet us on ferious preparation for meeting with God. Void of thought, and carelefs of futurity, we live on from day to day, like the victim that plays and dances before that altar where its blood is to be fhed. Even after the longeft life, and under the moft lingering fickness, death comes unexpected; the arrow is ftill unfeen that strikes through the heart.

This is not peculiar to a few men; it defcribes a general character, and is exemplified in all the claffes of life. This infatuation does not arise from ignorance. You all know that death is certain; you all know that it is generally unexpected. You affent to every thing that we can fay upon this head, that there is no action of life, but what may lead to its end, and no moment of time but what may be your laft. You need not be informed, that death spares no age; your own obfervation prefents you with many inftances of perfons cut off in all periods of life. In that church-yard you fee graves of every length; on those monuments of mortality, you read the hiftories of the promifing boy, of the blooming