and harlots, and have as little regard for their health, as for their fortune and reputation; and let us consider the case of those good-natured, decent persons, who profess to have a real value for both.

Upon the principle laid down in the last argument, may I not ask, What love have these for their immortal part, their true self? What do they do for their souls? Or rather what do they not leave undone? And who can shew less concern for their greatest interest than they?

Alas! in spirtual matters, the wisest of them seem on a level with the most foolish. They anxiously secure their title to a few possessions in this transitory world, out of which the stream of time carries them with unabated impetuosity; while they remain * stupidly thoughtless of their portion in the unchangeable world, into which they are just going to launch: They take particular notice of every trivial incident in life, every idle report raised in their neighbourhood, and supinely overlook the great realities of death and judgment, hell and heaven.

You see them perpetually contriving how to preserve, indulge, and adorn their dying bodies; and daily neglecting the safety, welfare, and ornament of their immortal souls. So great is their folly, that earthly toys make them slight heavenly thrones! So

* Time flies, death urges, knells call, heaven invites, Hell threatens ; all exerts; in effort all:

More than creation labours! labours more!

And is there in creation, what, amidst

This tumult universal, wing'd dispatch,

And ardent energy, supinely yawns?

Man sleeps; and man alone; and man, whose fate,
Fate irreversible, intire, extreme,

Endless, hair-hung, breeze-shaken, o'er the gulph
A moment trembles ; drops! and man, for whom
All else is in alarm, man, the sole cause

Of this surrounding storm! and yet he sleeps,
As the storm rock'd to rest.

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wilful their self-deception, that a point of time hides from them a boundless eternity! So perverted is their moral taste, that they nauseate the word of truth, the precious food of souls, and greedily run upon the tempter's hook, if it is but made of solid gold, or gilt over with the specious appearance of honour, or only baited with the prospect of a favourite diversion. And whilst, by uneasy fretful tempers, they too often impair their bodily health; by exorbitant affections and pungent cares, they frequently break their hearts, or pierce themselves through with many sorrows.

Does such a conduct deserve the name of wellordered self-love, or preposterous self-hatred? O man, sinful man, how totally art thou depraved, if thou art not only thine own most dangerous enemy, but often thy most cruel tormentor!

XX. ARGUMENT.:

This depravity is productive of the most detestable brood. When it has suppressed the love of God, perverted the love of our neighbour, and vitiated selflove; it soon gives birth to a variety of execrable tempers, and dire affections, which should have no place but in the breast of fiends, no out-breaking but in the chambers of hell.

If you ask their name: I answer....Pride, that odious vice, which feeds on the praises it slyly procures, lives by the applause it has meanly courted,

And is it in the flight of threescore years
To push eternity from human thought,
And bury souls immortal in the dust?
A soul immortal spending all her fires,
Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness;
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd,
At ought this scene can threaten, or, indulge,
Resembles Ocean into tempest wrought
To waft a feather, or to drown a fly..

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and is equally stabbed by the reproof of a friend, and the sneer of a foe....The spirit of independence, which cannot bear controul, is galled by the easiest yoke, gnaws the slender cords of just authority, as if they were the heavy chains of tyrannical power; nor ever ceases struggling till they break, and he can say: "Now I am my own master."....Ambition and Vanity, which, like Proteus, take a thousand shapes, and wind a thousand ways, to climb up to the high seat of power, shine on the tottering stage of honour, wear the golden badge of fortune, glitter in the gaudy pomp of dress, and draw by distinguishing appearances, the admiration of a gaping multitude....Sloth, which unnerves the soul, enfeebles the body, and makes the whole man deaf to the calls of duty, loath to set about his business, (even when want, fear, or shame drives him to it) ready to postpone or omit it upon any pretence, and willing to give up even the interests of society, virtue and religion, so he may saunter undisturbed, doze the time away in stupid inactivity, or enjoy himself in that dastardly indolence, which passes in the world for quietness and good-nature....Envy, that looks with an evil eye at the good things our competitors enjoy, takes a secret pleasure in their misfortunes, under various pretexts exposes their faults, slyly tries to add to our reputation what it detracts from theirs, and stings our heart when they eclipse us by their greater success or superior excellencies....Covetousness, which is always dissatisfied with its portion, watches it with tormenting fears, increases it by every sordid mean, and turning its own executioner, justly pines for want over the treasure, it madly saves for a prodigal heir....Impatience, which frets at every thing, finds fault with every person, and madly tears herself under the distressing sense of a present evil, or the anxious expectation of an absent good....Wrath, which distorts our faces, racks our breasts, alarms our households, threatens, curses, stamps and storms even upon imaginary or trifling

provocations.... Jealousy, that through a fatal skill in diabolical optics, sees contempt in all the words of a favourite friend, discovers infidelity in all his actions, lives upon the wicked suspicions it begets, and turns the sweets of the mildest passion into wormwood and gall....Idolatrous love, which preys upon the spirits, consumes the flesh, tears the throbbing heart, and when it is disappointed, frequently forces its wretched slaves to lay violent hands upon themselves....Hatred, of our fellow-creatures, which keeps us void of tender benevolence, a chief ingredient in the bliss of angels; and fills us with some of the most unhappy sensations belonging to accursed spirits....Malice, which takes an unnatural, hellish pleasure in teazing beasts, and hurting men in their persons, properties, or reputation.... And the offspring of malice, Revenge, * who always thirsts after mischief or blood; and shares the only delight of devils, when he can repay a real or fancied injury seven-fold....Hypocrisy, who borrows the cloke of religion; bids her flexible muscles imitate vital piety; attends at the sacred altars, to make a show of her fictitious devotion; there raises her affected zeal in proportion to the number of the spectators; calls upon God to get the praise of man; and lifts up adulterous eyes and thievish hands to heaven, to procure herself the good things of the earth....And hypocrisy's sister, narrow-hearted Bigotry, who pushes from her civility and good-nature, stops her ears

*Man hard of heart to man! Of horrid things
Most horrid! Midst stupendous, highly strange!
Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs;

Pride brandishes the favours he confers,
And contumelious his humanity:

What then his vengeance? Hear it not, ye stars!
And thou pale moon! turn påler at the sound,
Man is to man the sorest, surest ill.........
Heav'ns Sovereign saves all beings, but himself,
That hideous sight, a naked human heart.

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against arguments and entreaties; calls huguenots, infidels, papists, or heretics, all who do not directly subscribe to her absurd or impious creeds; dogs them with a malignant eye; throws stones or dirt at them about an empty ceremony, or an indifferent opinion; and at last, if she can, sets churches or kingdoms on fire, about a turban, a surplice, or a cowl....Perfidiousness, who puts on the looks of true benevolence, speaks the language of the warmest affection; with solemn protestations invites men to depend on her sincerity, while she lays a deep plot for their sudden destruction; and with repeated oaths beseeches heaven to be witness of her artless innocence, while she moves the center of hell to accomplish her dire designs. The fatal hour is come; her stratagem has succeeded; and she now kisses and betrays, drinks health and poisons; offers a friendly embrace, and gives a deadly stab....Despair, who scorns to be beholden to mercy, gives the lie to all the declarations issued from the throne of grace, obstinately turns his wild eyes from the great expiatory sacrifice; and at last, impatient to drink the cup of trembling, wildly looks for some weapon to destroy himself....Distraction, begotten by the shocking mixture of two, or of these infernal passions raised to the highest degree of extravagance: Distraction, that wrings her hands, tears her dishevelled hair, fixes her ghastly eyes, turns her swimming brains, quenches the last spark of reason; and like a fierce tiger, must at last be chained by the hand of caution, and confined with iron bars in her dreary dwelling.

more.

And to close the dismal train, Self-murder, who always points wretched mortals to ponds and rivers, or presents them with cords, razors, pistols, daggers, and poison, and perpetually urges them to the choice of one of them. "You are guilty, miserable creatures, whispers he: The sun of prosperity is for ever set, the deepest night of distress is come upon you: You are in a hell of woe: The hell prepared for sa