is a great deal in the excellent Wollaston, and the perspicuous Seed, applicable to Moral Providence ; which (always be it observed) is the species I am canvassing; but there is no regular detailed essay, meeting and grappling with the cogent objections drawn from the incompatibility of a ruling power that foresees, and therefore (as it is affirmed) predestines every thing, and the position that the will of man is free. There is no such performance, clear, fair, and bold, except that of a layman, Abraham Tucker, who certainly flinches from nothing, but wrestles manfully with the subject; and this performance I am free to confess is so clear, simple, and convincing, that it would render this attempt of mine unnecessary, but for the two or three following considerations.

1st. It forms only part, and a very small one, of a most voluminous range of works, valuable to the metaphysician in his closet, distinguished for depth of thought, satisfactory conclusion, and above all, for a power and amplitude of illustration which must do good to those who have leisure and inclination for these subjects; and hence I would advise you to give it a conspicuous place on your shelves at Halesworth.

Paley, in his preface to his Moral and Political Philosophy, excusing himself for not acknowledging obligation to preceding writers, on account of

the difficulty of tracing to whom every thing belonged, makes an exception in favour of Search's (Tucker's) Light of Nature, on account of the happiness of its illustrations. But being thus voluminous, it is not, and cannot be in every body's hands; nor might those who wish to examine his thoughts upon Providence, think it worth while to burthen themselves with so many other subjects.

In the next place, from the amazing redundancy of his ideas, and the vast variety of shapes in which he places them before you, as well as the quantity of words employed, tending sometimes to clog instead of open the passage to his excellent doctrine, those who wish or are best fitted to understand things under simpler forms, might be deterred from pursuing the matter with sufficient perseverance. Nor do I know that the pure, didactic, unornamented, perhaps dry style in which the subject is handled, added to the length of the argument, would have attractions enough for many, who would require to be seduced, as it were, by ornament and elegance, into the acquisition of knowledge. To these the path might appear at first too rough and intricate to be attempted.

Exclusive of this, I perhaps think that this treatise is not so methodical as it might be, and

as readers might wish it to be. Nor are the deductions or illustrations by historical cases, so practically striking as to preclude the necessity for something more immediately obvious, and under a more popular form.

I had made the attempt before in Tremaine; but even there, perhaps from its being new to me, I am sensible I did not make the most of my own theories; and I have endeavoured (I trust without repetition) to supply what may there be thought wanting.

In presenting you with this small tract, I have thought it right to accompany it by these preliminary remarks, which I hope you will remember in perusing it; and whatever its impression upon your better judgment, I trust you will accept it both as a mark of my esteem and affection, and of the hope I have that in the sincere devotion of yourself to the sacred profession you have chosen, you will receive a reward, both here and hereafter, which no other profession can give. And so farewell.

Wiesbaden, May, 1836.

SECTION I.

"Now Heaven walks on earth."

SHAKSPEARE'S TWELFTH Night.

"For he maketh the storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are still." PSALM, CVII.

THE morning after the stormy and fearful night described in the last Chapter, found Mr. Campbell and St. Lawrence on the leads of a high tower which overlooked the interior of Castle Campbell, and commanded a wide prospect of sea, and shore, and distant islands, extending as far as the stupendous promontory of Fair Head on the opposite coast of Ireland. They had ascended this commanding terrace with a view to ascertain the damages, whatever they were, which so perilous a night might have occasioned. With the exception, however, of two or three boats that had been staved on the beach, and a few cottages unroofed, all was comparatively calm, made more so by contrast. The sea, indeed, still swelled in immense and reverberating undulations, but without those mountainous waves that had been so terrific. At the same time something like a sul

len and lowing swell at a distance, continued to affect the timid part of Campbell Town with fears of Sawney Bean, by no means yet entirely allayed. In other respects the contrast was wonderful. The sun shone out with a light and warmth that were exhilarating; and though detached glomerations of clouds chased one another, now heavily, now swiftly, over the vault of Heaven, yet they rested no where, and at length escaped into the horizon, leaving the stout old castle that had been so buffeted, in full possession of its strength, and its beautiful blue sea. The last, if not calm, now dashed fainter and fainter against the rocks that formed the base of the castle; only throwing up now and then a little spray, as if merely to show it was still there. Even this at length died away; so changed and soothing was the altered scene.

"How wonderful this is !" said St. Lawrence; "to look at this prospect now, one would suppose you had never any other than halcyon days upon this rugged coast of yours, spite of Sawney Bean, and all other permitted persecutors of the Campbells from the other world.”

"You think, then," replied the Laird, "in common with many of my neighbours, that Sawney, as a McLeod once had the insolence to tell us, is