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truth and faithfulness. So that the soul and spirit that animates and keeps up society, is mutual trust, and the foundation of trust is truth, either known, or at least supposed in the persons so trusted.

But now, where fraud and falsehood, like a plague or canker, comes once to invade society, the band, which held together the parts compounding it, presently breaks, and men are thereby put to a loss, where to league, and to fasten their dependences, and so are forced to scatter, and shift every one for himself. Upon which account, every notoriously false person ought to be looked upon and detested, as a public enemy, and to be pursued as a wolf or a mad dog, and a disturber of the common peace and welfare of mankind. There being no particular person whatsoever, but has his private interest concerned and endangered in the mischief that such a wretch does to the public.

to the contrary, he can have none; but, in the great concerns of life and health, every man must be forced to proceed upon trust, there being no knowing the intention of the cook or baker, any more than of the priest himself. And yet, if a man should forbear his food, or raiment, or most of his business in the world, till he had science and certainty of the safeness of what he was going about, he must starve, and die disputing; for there is neither eating, nor drinking, nor living by demonstration.

Now this shews the high malignity of fraud and falsehood, that, in the direct and natural course of it, tends to the destruction of common life, by destroying that trust and mutual confidence that men should have in one another; by which the common intercourse of the world must be carried on, and without which, men must first distrust, and then divide, separate, and stand upon their guard, with their hand against every one, and every one's hand against them.

The felicity of societies and bodies politic consists in this, that all relations in them do regularly discharge their respective duties and offices. Such as are the relation between prince and subject, master and servant, a man and his friend, husband and wife, parent and child, buyer and seller, and the like. But now, where fraud and falsehood take place, there is not one of all these that is not per

For look into great families, and you shall find some one false, paltry talebearer, who, by carrying stories from one to another, shall inflame the minds and discompose the quiet of the whole family. And from families pass to towns or cities; and two or three pragmatical, intriguing, meddling fellows, (men of business some call them,) by the venom of their false tongues, shall set the whole neighbourhood together by the ears. Where men practise falsehood, and shew tricks with one another, there will be perpe-verted, and that does not, from a help of tual suspicions, evil surmisings, doubts, and jealousies, which, by souring the minds of men, are the bane and pest of society. For still society is built upon trust, and trust upon the confidence that men have of one another's integrity.

And this is so evident, that without trusting, there could not only be no happiness, but indeed no living in this world. For in those very things that minister to the daily necessities of common life, how can any one be assured, that the very meat and drink that he is to take into his body, and the clothes he is to put on, are not poisoned, and made unwholesome for him, before ever they are brought to him. Nay, in some places, (with horror be it spoke,) how can a man be secure in taking the very sacrament itself?

For there have been those who have found something in this spiritual food, that has proved very fatal to their bodies, and more than prepared them for another world. I say, how can any one warrant himself in the use of these things against such suspicions, but in the trust he has in the common honesty and truth of men in general, which ought and uses to keep them from such villainies? Nevertheless, know this certainly beforehand, he cannot, forasmuch as such things have been done, and consequently, may be done again. And therefore, as for any infallible assurance

society, directly become a hinderance. For, first, it turns all above us into tyranny and barbarity, and all of the same religion and level with us, into discord and confusion. It is this alone that poisons that sovereign and divine thing called friendship; so that when a man thinks that he leans upon a breast as loving and true to him as his own, he finds that he relies upon a broken reed, that not only basely fails, but also cruelly pierces the hand that rests upon it. It is from this, that when a man thinks he has a servant or dependent, an instrument of his affairs, and a defence of his person, he finds a traitor and a Judas, an enemy that eats his bread and lies under his roof; and, perhaps, readier to do him a mischief and a shrewd turn than an open and professed adversary. And lastly, from this deceit and falsehood it is, that when a man thinks himself matched to one who, by the laws of God and nature, should be a comfort to him in all conditions, a consort of his cares, and a companion in all his concerns, instead thereof, he finds in his bosom a beast, a serpent, and a devil.

In a word, he that has to do with a liar, knows not where he is, nor what he does, nor with whom he deals. He walks upon bogs and whirlpools; wheresoever he treads he sinks, and converses with a bottomless pit, where it is impossible for him to fix, or to be

at any certainty. In fine, he catches at an apple of Sodom, which, though it may entertain his eye with a florid, jolly white and red, yet, upon the touch, it shall fill his hand only with stench and foulness; fair in look and rotten at heart; as the gayest and most taking things and persons in the world generally are.

4. And lastly, deceit and falsehood do, of all other ill qualities, most peculiarly indispose the hearts of men to the impressions of religion. For these are sius perfectly spiritual, and so prepossess the proper seat and place of religion, which is the soul or spirit; and, when that is once filled and taken up with a lie, there will hardly be admission or room for truth. Christianity is known in scripture by no name so significantly, as by the simplicity of the gospel.

And if so, does it not look like the greatest paradox and prodigy in nature, for any one to pretend it lawful to equivocate, or lie for it? to face God and outface man, with the sacrament and a lie in one's mouth together? Can a good intention, or rather a very wicked one, so miscalled, sanctify and transform perjury and hypocrisy into merit and perfection? or can there be a greater blot cast upon any church or religion (whatsoever it be) than by such a practice? for will not the world be induced to look upon my religion as a lie, if I allow myself to lie for my religion?

The very life and soul of all religion is sincerity. And therefore, the good ground, in which alone the immortal seed of the word sprang up to perfection, is said, (Luke, viii. 15,) to have been those "that received it into an honest heart,” that is, a plain, clear, and well meaning heart; a heart not doubled, nor cast into the various folds and windings of a dodging, shifting hypocrisy. For the truth is, the more spiritual and refined any sin is, the more hardly is the soul cured of it, because the more difficultly convinced. And in all our spiritual maladies, conviction must still begin the cure.

Such sins, indeed, as are acted by the body, do quickly shew and proclaim themselves; and it is no such hard matter to convince or run down a drunkard, or an unclean person, and to stop their mouths, and to answer any pretences that they can allege for their sin. But deceit is such a sin as a Pharisee may be guilty of, and yet stand fair for the reputation of zeal and strictness, and a more than ordinary exactness in religion. And though some have been apt to account none sinful, or vicious, but such as wallow in the mire and dirt of gross sensuality, yet, no doubt, deceit, falsehood, and hypocrisy, are more directly contrary to the very essence and design of religion, and carry in them more of the express image and superscription of the devil, than any bodily sins whatsoever. How did that false,

fasting, imperious, self-admiring, or rather, self-adoring hypocrite, (Luke, xviii. 11,) crow and insult over the poor publican! "God, I thank thee," says he, "that I am not like other men;" and God forbid, say I, that there should be many others like him, for a glistering outside, and a noisome inside, for "tithing mint and cummin, and for devouring widows' houses;" that is, for taking ten parts from his neighbour, and putting God off with one. After all which, had this man of merit and mortification been called to account for his ungodly swallow in gorging down the estates of helpless widows and orphans, it is odds, but he would have told you, that it was all for charitable uses, and to afford pensions for spies and proselytes. It being no ordinary piece of spiritual good husbandry, to be charitable at other men's cost.

But such sons of Abraham, how highly soever they may have the luck to be thought of, are far from being Israelites indeed; for the character that our Saviour gives us of such, in the person of Nathaniel, (John, i. 47,) is, “ that they are without guile." To be so, I confess, is generally reckoned (of late times especially) a poor, mean, sneaking thing, and the contrary, reputed wit and parts, and fitness for business, as the word is; though I doubt not but it will be one day found, that only honesty and integrity can fit a man for the main business that he was sent into the world for; and that he certainly is the greatest wit, who is wise to salvation.

And thus much for the second general thing proposed, which was, to shew the pernicious effects of lying and falsehood. Come we now to the

Third and last, which is, to lay before you the rewards or punishments that will assuredly attend, or at least follow, this base practice.

I shall mention three; as,

1. An utter loss of all credit and belief with sober and discreet persons, and consequently, of all capacity of being useful in the prime and noblest concerns of life. For there cannot be imagined in nature, a more forlorn, useless, and contemptible tool, or more unfit for any thing, than a discovered cheat. And let men rest assured of this, that there will be always some as able to discover and find out deceitful tricks, as others can be to contrive them. For God forbid, that all the wit and cunning of the world should still run on the deceiver's side; and when such little shifts and shuffling arts come once to be ripped up and laid open, how poorly and wretchedly must that man needs sneak, who finds himself both guilty and baffled too! A knave without luck is certainly the worst trade in the world. But truth makes the face of that person shine who speaks and owns it; while a lie is like a vizard, that may cover the face

indeed, but can never become it; nor yet does it cover it so but that it leaves it open enough for shame. It brands a man with a lasting, indelible character of ignominy and reproach, and that indeed so foul and odious, that those usurping hectors, who pretend to honour without religion, think the charge of a lie a blot upon them not to be washed out, but by the blood of him that gives it.

For what place can that man fill in a commonwealth, whom nobody will either believe or employ? And no man can be considerable in himself, who has not made himself useful to others; nor can any man be so, who is incapable of a trust. He is neither fit for counsel or friendship, for service or command, to be in office or in honour, but, like salt that has lost its savour, fit only to rot and perish upon a dunghill.

For no man can rely upon such an one, either with safety to his affairs, or without a slur to his reputation; since he that trusts a knave has no other recompense, but to be accounted a fool for his pains. And if he trusts himself into ruin and beggary, he falls unpitied, a sacrifice to his own folly and credulity; for he that suffers himself to be imposed upon by a known deceiver, goes partner in the cheat, and deceives himself. He is despised and laughed at as a soft and easy person, and as unfit to be relied upon for his weakness, as the other can be for his falseness.

It is really a great misery not to know whom to trust, but a much greater to behave one's self so as not to be trusted. But this is the liar's lot; he is accounted a pest and a nuisance; a person marked out for infamy and scorn, and abandoned by all men of sense and worth, and such as will not abandon themselves.

2. The second reward or punishment that attends the lying and deceitful person, is the hatred of all those whom he either has or would have deceived. I do not say, that a Christian can lawfully hate any one; and yet I affirm, that some may very worthily deserve to be hated; and of all men living, who may or do, the deceiver certainly deserves it most. To which I shall add this one remark farther, that though men's persons ought not to be hated, yet, without all peradventure, their practices justly may, and particularly that detestable one which we are now speaking of. For whosoever deceives a man, does not only do all that he can to ruin him, but, which is yet worse, to make him ruin himself; and by causing an error in the great guide of all his actions, his judgment, to cause an error in his choice too, the misguidance of which must naturally engage him in those courses that directly tend to his destruction. Loss of sight is the misery of life, and usually the forerunner of death; when the malefactor

comes once to be muffled, and the fatal cloth drawn over his eyes, we know that he is not far from his execution.

And this is so true, that whosoever sees a man who would have beguiled and imposed upon him, by making him believe a lie, he may truly say of that person, That is the man who would have ruined me, who would have stripped me of the dignity of my nature, and put out the eyes of my reason, to make himself sport with my calamity, my folly, and my dishonour. For so the Philistines used Samson, and every man in this sad case has enough of Samson to be his own executioner. Accordingly, if ever it comes to this, that a man can say of his confident, he would have deceived me, he has said enough to annihilate and abolish all pretences of friendship. And it is really an intolerable impudence, for any one to offer at the name of friend, after such an attempt. For can there be any thing of friendship in snares, hooks, and trepans? And, therefore, whosoever breaks with his friend upon such terms, has enough to warrant him in so doing, both before God and man, and that without incurring either the guilt of unfaithfulness before the one, or the blemish of inconstancy before the other. For this is not properly to break with a friend, but to discover an enemy, and timely to shake the viper off from one's hand.

What says the most wise author of that excellent Book of Ecclesiasticus? (xxii. 21, 22.) "Though thou drewest a sword at thy friend, yet despair not: for there may be a returning to favour. If thou hast opened thy mouth against thy friend, fear not; for there may be a reconciliation." That is, an hasty word or an indiscreet action does not presently dissolve the bond, or root out a well-settled habit, but that friendship may be still sound at heart; and so outgrow and wear off these little distempers. But what follows? "Except for upbraiding, or disclosing of secrets, or a treacherous wound," (mark that,) "for these things," says he, "every friend will depart." And surely it is high time for him to go, when such a devil drives him away. Passion, anger, and unkindness may give a wound that shall bleed and smart, but it is treachery only that makes it fester.

And the reason of the difference is manifest; for hasty words or blows may be only the effects of a sudden passion, during which a man is not perfectly himself; but no man goes about to deceive, or ensnare, or circumvent another in a passion; to lay trains, and set traps, and give secret blows in a present huff. No; this is always done with forecast and design, with a steady aiming, and a long projecting malice, assisted with all the skill and art of an expert and well-managed hypocrisy; and, perhaps, not without the pharisaical feigned guise of something like

self-denial and mortification, which are things in which the whole man, and the whole devil too, are employed, and all the powers and faculties of the mind are exerted and made use of.

But for all these masks and vizards, nothing certainly can be thought of or imagined, more base, inhuman, or diabolical, than for one to abuse the generous confidence and hearty freedom of his friend, and to undermine and ruin him in those very concerns, which nothing but too great a respect to, and too good an opinion of the traitor, made the poor man deposit in his hollow and fallacious breast. Such an one, perhaps, thinks to find some support and shelter in my friendship, and I take that opportunity to betray him to his mortal enemies. He comes to me for counsel, and I shew him a trick. He opens his bosom to me, and I stab him to the heart. These are the practices of the world we live in, especially since the year sixty, the grand epoch of falsehood, as well as debauchery. But God, who is the great guarantee for the peace, order, and good behaviour of mankind, where laws cannot secure it, may, some time or other, think it the concern of his justice and providence too, to revenge the affronts put upon them by such impudent defiers of both, as neither believe a God, nor ought to be believed by man.

In the meantime, let such perfidious wretches know, that though they believe a devil no more than they do a God, yet in all this scene of refined treachery, they are really doing the devil's journey-work, who was a liar and a murderer from the beginning, and therefore a liar, that he might be a murderer; and the truth is, such an one docs all towards his brother's ruin that the devil himself could his do. For the devil can but tempt and deceive, way, and if he cannot destroy a man that power is at an end.

But I cannot dismiss this head without one farther note, as very material in the case now before us. Namely, that since this false, wily, doubling disposition of mind is so intolerably mischievous to society, God is sometimes pleased, in mere pity and compassion to men, to give them warning of it, by setting some odd mark upon such Cains. So that, if a man will be but so true to himself as to observe such persons exactly, he shall generally spy such false lines, and such a sly, treacherous fleer upon their face, that he shall be sure to have a cast of their eye to warn him, before they give him a cast of their nature to betray him. And in such cases, a man may see more and better by another's eye, than he can by his own.

Let this, therefore, be the second reward of the lying and deceitful person, that he is the object of a just hatred and abhorrence. For as the devil is both a liar himself, and the

canse that has drawn the hatred of God and
father of liars; so I think, that the same
man upon the father, may justly entail it
upon his offspring too; and it is pity that
such an entail should ever be cut off.

But,

3. And lastly, The last and utmost reward, that shall infallibly reach the fraudulent and deceitful, (as it will all other obstinate and impenitent sinners,) is a final and eternal separation from God, who is truth itself, and with whom no shadow of falsehood can dwell. "He that telleth lies," says David, (Psal. ci. 7,) "shall not tarry in my sight;" and if not in the sight of a poor mortal man, (who could sometimes lie himself,) how much less in the presence of the infinite and all-knowing God? A wise and good prince, or governor, will not vouchsafe a liar the countenance of his eye, and much less the privilege of his ear. The Spirit of God seems to write this upon the very gates of heaven, and to state the condition of men's entrance into glory chiefly upon "He that veracity. In Psalm xv. 1, "Who shall ascend into thy holy hill?" says the Psalmist. To which it is answered, (ver. 2,) worketh righteousness, and that speaketh the truth from his heart."

And, on the other side, how emphatically is hell described in the two last chapters of Revelation; by being the great receptacle and mansion-house of liars, whom we shall find there ranged with the vilest and most detestable of all sinners, appointed to have their portion in that horrid place, (Rev. xxi. 8,)

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The unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone:" and (xxii. 15,) "Without are dogs and sorcerers," &c. " and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie."

Now let those consider this, whose tongue and heart hold no correspondence; who look upon it as a piece of art and wisdom, and the masterpiece of conversation, to overreach and deceive, and make a prey of a credulous and sons think? Are dogs, whoremongers, and well-meaning honesty. What do such persorcerers, such desirable company to take up with for ever? Will the burning lake be found so tolerable? Or will there be any one to drop refreshment upon the false tongue, when it shall be tormented in those flames?

Or do they think that God is a liar like themselves, and that no such things shall ever come to pass, but that all these fiery threatenings sentence blow off without execution? Few shall vanish into smoke, and this dreadful certainly can lie to their own hearts so far as to imagine this; but hell is, and must be granted to be, the deceiver's portion, not only by the judgment of God, but of his own conscience too. And, comparing the malignity of his sin with the nature of the punishment

allotted for him, all that can be said of a liar lodged in the very nethermost hell, is this; that if the vengeance of God could prepare any place or condition worse than hell for sinners, hell itself would be too good for him. And now, to sum up all in short; I have shewn what a lie is, and wherein the nature of falsehood does consist; that it is a thing absolutely and intrinsically evil; that it is an act of injustice, and a violation of our neighbour's right.

And that the vileness of its nature is equalled by the malignity of its effects. It being this that first brought sin into the world, and is since the cause of all those miseries and calamities that disturb it; and farther, that it tends utterly to dissolve and overthrow society, which is the greatest temporal blessing and support of mankind; and, which is yet worst of all, that it has a strange and particular efficacy, above all other sins, to indispose the heart to religion.

And lastly, that it is as dreadful in its punishments, as it has been pernicious in its effects. Forasmuch as it deprives a man of

all credit and belief, and consequently, of all capacity of being useful in any station or condition of life whatsoever; and next, that it draws upon him the just and universal hatred and abhorrence of all men here; and finally, subjects him to the wrath of God and eternal damnation hereafter.

And now, if none of all these considerations can recommend and endear truth to the words and practices of men, and work upon their double hearts, so far as to convince and make them sensible of the baseness of the sin, and greatness of the guilt, that fraud and falsehood leaves upon the soul; let them lie and cheat on, till they receive a fuller and more effectual conviction of all these things, in that place of torment and confusion, prepared for the devil and his angels, and all his lying retinue, by the decree and sentence of that God, who, in his threatenings as well as in his promises, will be true to his word, and cannot lie.

To whom be rendered and ascribed, as is most due, all praise, might, majesty, and dominion, both now and for evermore. Amen.

REVEREND AND LEARNED SIRS,

TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.*

THESE Discourses (most of them at least) having by the favour of your patience had the honour of your audience, and being now published in another and more lasting way, do here humbly cast themselves at your feet, imploring the yet greater favour and honour of your patronage, or at least the benevolence of your pardon.

Amongst which, the chief design of some of them is, to assert the rights and constitutions of our excellently reformed Church, which of late we so often hear reproached (in the modish dialect of the present times) by the name of little things; and that in order to their being laid aside, not only as little, but superfluous. But for my own part, I can account nothing little in any church which has the stamp of undoubted authority, and the practice of primitive antiquity, as well as the reason and decency of the thing itself, to warrant and support it. Though, if the supposed littleness of these matters should be a sufficient reason for the laying them aside, I fear our Church will be found to have more little men to spare than little things.

But I have observed all along, that while this innovating spirit has been striking at the constitutions of our Church, the same has been giving several bold and scurvy strokes at some of her Articles too; an evident demonstration to me, that whensoever her discipline shall be destroyed, her doctrine will not long survive it; and I doubt not but it is for the sake of this that the former is so much maligned and shot at. Pelagianism and Socinianism, with several other heterodoxies cognate to and dependent upon them, which of late, with so much confidence and scandalous countenance, walk about daring the world, are certainly no doctrines of the Church of England. And none are abler and fitter to make them appear what they are, and whither they tend, than our excellent and so well stocked universities; and if these will but bestir themselves against all innovators whatsoever, it will quickly be seen that our Church needs none, either to fill her places or to defend her doctrines, but the sons whom she herself has brought forth and bred up. Her charity is indeed great to others, and the greater, for that she is so well provided of all that can contribute either to her strength or ornament without them. The altar receives and protects such as fly to it, but needs them not.

We are not so dull but we perceive who are the prime designers as well as the professed actors against our Church, and from what quarter the blow chiefly threatens us. We know the spring as well as we observe the motion, and scent the foot which pursues as well as see the hand which is lifted up against us. The Pope is an experienced workman; he knows his tools, and knows them to be but tools, and knows withal how to use them, and that so that they shall neither know who it is that uses them, or what he uses them for; and we cannot in reason presume his skill now in ninety-three to be at all less than it was in forty-one. But God, who has even to a miracle protected the Church of England hitherto, against all the power and spite both of her open and concealed enemies, will, we hope, continue to protect so pure and rational, so innocent and self-denying a constitution still. And next, under God, we must rely upon the old Church of England clergy, together with the two universities, both to support and recover her declining state. For so long as the universities are sound and orthodox, the Church has both her eyes open; and while she has so, it is to be hoped that she will look about her, and consider again and again, what she is to change from, and what she must change to, and where she shall make an end of changing, before she quits her present constitution.

Innovations about religion are certainly the most efficacious as well as the most plausible way of compassing a total abolition of it. One of the best and strongest arguments we have against Popery is, that it is an innovation upon the Christian church; and if so, I cannot see why that which we explode in the popish church should pass for such a piece of perfection in a reformed one. The papists, I am sure, (our shrewdest and most designing enemies,) desire and push on this to their utmost; and for that very • This dedication refers to the twelve Sermons next following.

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