excellent ornament of a weak and timid sex, should only be subject to the ascendency of the most generous and faithful sentiment. These principles, indeed, are not formed for corrupt hearts; but the service which religion renders, the end which it proposes, is to assist us to combat our depraved dispositions; it is to point out the errors and the snares of vice; it is to preserve, amongst us, the sacred deposit of principles, which are the foundation of public order, and still maintain some light to illuminate the path of wisdom and true happiness. Religion recals us continually to those universal duties which we describe under the name of good morals; duties that men would often inconsiderately wish to separate from public interest, but which, however, are bound to it by so many almost imperceptible and secret ties. Every act of wisdom and virtue is not of immediate importance to society; but morality must be cultivated by degrees, and fortified by habit, as it is like those delicate plants which we rear with a kind of fondness to preserve their beauty; if we make a distinction between personal, domestic, and public manners, in order to neglect, as we find convenient, one part of our duty, we shall lose the charm of it, and every day virtue will appear more difficult. There is, I think, a connexion, more or less apparent, between every thing good and worthy of esteem; and it seems to me, that this idea has something amiable, which confusedly satisfies our most generous dispositions and most comfortable hopes: and if, to sustain a truth so important, I was permitted to interrogate the young man, whose virtues and talents are the most remarkable in Europe, I should ask him, if he did not experience that his filial tenderness, the regularity of his domestic life, the purity of his thoughts, and all his rare private qualities, are not united to the noble sentiments which make him appear with so much splendour as a statesman? But without dwelling on such instances, who has not been sometimes struck with the beauty attached to that simplicity and modesty of manners which we often find in an obscure situation? We then manifestly discover, that there exists a kind of agreement and dignity, I could almost say, a kind of grandeur, independent of refined language, polished manners, and all those advantages due to birth, to rank, and fortune.