irely destitute of its influence, and no wonder you
cannot attach to it the idea of pleasure: but viewing it as it ought
to be viewed, in the light of a new nature, you will perceive that
it admits of most exalted delight.

"3. Consider the miseries which it prevents.

"It does not, it is true, prevent sickness, poverty, or misfortune:
it does not fence off from the wilderness of this world, a mystic
enclosure, within which the ills of life never intrude. No; these
things happen to all alike; but how small a portion of human
wretchedness flows from these sources, compared with that which
arises from the dispositions of the heart. 'The mind is its own
place, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' Men carry the
springs of their happiness or misery in their own bosom. Hence it is
said of the wicked, 'that they are like the troubled sea which
cannot rest, which is never at peace, but continually casting up
mire and dirt.' In contrast with which, it is affirmed that 'the
work of righteousness is peace; and that the good man shall be
satisfied from himself.' Would you behold the misery entailed by
_pride_, look at Haman; by _covetousness_, look at Ahab; by
_malice_, look at Cain; by _profaneness_ and _sensuality_, united
with the forebodings of a guilty conscience, look at Belshazzar; by
_envy_, and a consciousness of being rejected of God, look at Saul;
by _revenge_, look at Herodias writhing beneath the accusations of
John, and thirsting for his blood; by _apostasy_, look at Judas.
Religion would have prevented all this, and it will prevent similar
misery in you. Hearken to the confessions of the outcast in the land
of his banishment; of the felon in his irons, and in his dungeon; of
the prostitute expiring upon her bed of straw; of the malefactor at
the gallows--'Wretched creature that I am, abhorred of men, accursed
of God! To what have my crimes brought me!' Religion prevents all
this: all that wretchedness which is the result of crime, is cut off
by the influence of genuine piety. Misery prevented is happiness
gained.

"4. Consider the consolations it imparts.

"Our world has been called, in the language of poetry, a vale of
tears, and human life a bubble, raised from those tears, and
inflated by sighs, which, after floating a little while, decked with
a few gaudy colors, is touched by the hand of death, and dissolves.
Poverty, disease, misfortune, unkindness, inconstancy, death, all
assail the travellers a