every side, yet not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.” 2 Cor. iv. 8, 9. “As tribulation aboundeth, our consolations in Christ shall much more abound.” And as they flow from a source, which is as perennial as it is pure, and are founded upon a basis as firm as the covenant and oath of Jehovah, can any language describe the happiness of true religion, when its real votaries can pronounce in faith and experience, the two following sentences of sacred writ? “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. We _know_ that when the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” The _loveliness_ of religion. Another and most powerful allurement into the ways of religion, is the _loveliness_ of its character in those who adorn its profession. St. Paul ranks “whatsoever things are _lovely_ with whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, and of good report.” Phil. iv. 8. And, as true religion is the work of Christ, delineates his image, and is one of the brightest emanations from the glory of the Sun of righteousness, we may say of it, as of its divine Author, that it is “altogether lovely.” In regulating our opinion, and dilating our ideas on this subject, some caution is necessary, lest we mistake counterfeits for the original, and fall in love with appearances, or even with deformity. Whatever hopes we may entertain of the existence of religion in the hearts of some, who profess it, under great disadvantages, arising from natural temper, prejudices of education, weakness of capacity, or rusticity of manners; it is not from such that we are to form our idea of what is amiable. Still less are we to draw the portrait from the impertinent sallies of juvenile profession; from the affected look of solemn ignorance; from the affectedly sanctimonious aspect, with all the pharisaic contorsions of features and the grimaces that form it, an apology often for want of genuine sanctity within; not from the starched behaviour and rigid manners, that excite contempt and confirm prejudices; not from the insufferable pomp of illiteracy, assuming the dictator’s air, and demanding all that respect, which an humble sense of deficiencies would procure; not from the forbidding brow and sour-address, those terrific guards that some plant around their persons, lest you should approach too near, or make too free with their self-consequence; not from the unfortunate manners of those, who behave as if they thought there should always subsist an irreconcilable variance between the character of a gentleman and that of a Christian; not from the false fire of those, who make an abrupt remark, a haughty air, a pert