And sternly in his secret breast His purpose fixed; their moments fly no more, Foul midnight only hears, and shudders at the groan. But justice yet shall lift her arm on high, And Bourbon's blood no more ask vengeance from the sky.. AN UNFINISHED TRACT. MY BRETHREN, I THINK it more particularly proper, at a period, which seems big with awful events, to make a solemn address. to each of you singly, on a most important and weighty subject. I mean, the state of your minds with regard to religion. The more pointed objects of this little book, are such of you as it has pleased God to place in the lower classes of life. I do not mean to take up your attention for a very long time; all I entreat of you, is to turn aside, but for a few trifling moments, from the voice of folly and the vain pursuits of this passing world, to listen to the voice of a monitor, who teaches those momentous topics, which are of infinitely more weight, than the revolutions of states and empires, of all the busy pageants of the earth. Believe me, my brethren, the subject is most awful and solemn, and demands your undivided attention. Were I now about to state the case of a criminal on his trial for life or death, you would enter with the deepest interest into my discourse; you would weigh with anxious care all the favourable or unfavourable points of the statement; you would make your conjectures in breathless expectation, as to the probable |