come are so far superior to the blessings of the present life, that when we can assure ourselves of the first, we ought to give ourselves very little concern about the last. To add a drop of water to the boundless ocean; to add a temporal blessing to the immense felicities, which happy spirits enjoy in the other life, is almost the same thing. St. Paul tells us, that the idea of life to come so absorbs the idea of the present life, that to consider these two objects in this point of view, his eyes could hardly get sight of the one, it was so very diminutive, and his mind reckoned the whole as nothing: 'Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen, which are temporal, but at the things which are not seen, which are eternal,' 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.

Few imitate this apostle. The present, because it is present; and in spite of its rapidity, fixes our eyes, becomes a wall between us and eternity, and prevents our perceiving it. We should make many more converts to virtue, could we prove that it would render mankind happy here below, but we cannot change the order of things. Jesus Christ and his apostles have told us, that in the world we shall have tribulation,' and that all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution,' John xvi. 33; 2 Tim. iii. 12. However, it is true, that even here piety procures pleasures, which usually surpass all those of worldly people: at least, which are sufficient to support us in a road leading to eternal happiness.

1. Consider first, how piety influences our health. Our bodies decay, I allow, by numberless means. Death enters them by the air we breathe, and by the elements that support them, and whatever contributes to make them live, contributes at the same time to make them die. Let us allow, my brethren, that most maladies take their rise in such excesses as the law of God condemns. How can a man, devoured with ambition, avarice and vengeance, a man whose passions keep him in perpetual agitations, depriving him of peace, and robbing him of sleep; how can he, who passes whole nights and days in gaming, animated with the desire of gaining his neighbour's money, tortured by turns with the hope of a fortune, and the fear of a bankruptcy; how can he, who drowns himself in wine, or overcharges himself with gluttony; how can he, who abandons himself without a curb to excessive lewdness, and who makes every thing serve his voluptuousness; how is it possible for people of these kinds to expect a firm and lasting health? Godliness is a bar to all these disorders; the fear of the Lord prolongeth days: it is a fountain of life to guard us from the snares of death,' Prov. x. 27; and xii. 27. If then it be true that health is an invaluable treasure, if it be that, which ought to hold the first rank among the blessings of life, if without it all others are of no value, it is as certain that without love to the law of God we cannot enjoy much pleasure in life.

The force of this reflection is certainly very little felt in the days of youth and vigour, for

then we usually consider these as eternal advantages, which nothing can alter: but when old age comes, when by continual languors, and by exquisite pains, men expiate the disorders of an irregular life, then that fear of God is respected, which teaches us to prevent them. Ye martyrs of concupiscence, ye victims of voluptuousness, you, who formerly tasted the pleasures of sin, and are now thoroughly feeling the horrors of it, and who, in consequence of your excesses, are already given up to an anticipated hell, do you serve us for demonstration and example? You are become knowing by experience, now teach our youth how beneficial it is to lead a regular life in their first years, and as your intemperance has offended the church, let the pains you endure serve to restrain such as are weak enough to imitate your bad examples. Those trembling hands, that shaking head, those disjointed knees, that extinguished resolution, that feeble memory, that worn out brain, that body all infection and putrefaction, these are the dreadful rewards which the devil bestows on those on whom he is preparing himself shortly to exercise all his fury and rage. On this article then, instead of saying with the profane, what profit is it to keep the ordinances of God, and to walk mournfully before the Lord of hosts?' Mal. ii. 14. We ought to say with St. Paul, 'What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death,' Rom. vi. 21.

2. Consider next how piety influences our reputation. I am aware, that worldly men by decrying piety, endeavour to avenge themselves for the want of courage to practise it. I am aware, too, that practise wickedness as much, as often, and as far as ever we can, we shall always find ourselves in a circle of companions like ourselves. But after all, it is however indisputable, that good people usually acquire the respect of such as have not the laudable ambition of imitating them. I appeal only to your own conscience. Is it not true, that, even while you are gratifying your own passions, you cannot help admiring such as subdue theirs? Is it not true, that, except on some occasions, in which you want, and therefore seek, accomplices in sin, you would rather choose to form connexions, to make bargains, and to deal, with such as obey the laws of God, than with those who violate them? And amidst all the hatred and envy, which your irregularities excite against good people, is it not true, that your heart feels more veneration for wise, upright, and pious people, than for others, who have opposite qualities? As these are your dispositions towards others, know of a truth, they are also dispositions of others towards you. Here it is, that most men are objects of great pity. The irregularities, which seem to conduct us to the end we propose, are often the very causes of our disappointment. May I not address one of you thus? You trample upon all laws human and divine; you build up a fortunate house with the substance of widows, and orphans, and oppressed people, and you cement it with their blood; you sell your votes; you defraud the state; you de

ceive your friends; you betray your correspondents, and after you have enriched yourself by such ways, you set forth in a most pompous manner your riches, your elegant furniture, your magnificent palaces, your superb equipages, and you think the public take you for a person of great consideration, and that every one is erecting in his heart an altar to your fortune. No such thing. You deceive yourself. Every one says in private, and some blunt people say to your face, you are a knave, you are a public blood-sucker, and all your magnificence displays nothing but your crimes. May I not say to another, You affect to mount above your station by arrogant language, and mighty assumptions. You deck yourself with titles, and adorn yourself with names unknown to your ancestors. You put on a sepercilious deportment, that ill assorts with the dust which covered you the other day, and you think by these means to efface the remembrance of your origin. No such thing. You deceive yourself.

Every one takes pleasure in showing you some of your former rags to mortify your pride, and they say to one another, he is a mean genius, he is a fool, he resembles distracted men, who having persuaded themselves that they are princes, kings, emperors, call their cottage a palace, their stick a sceptre, and their domestics courtiers. May I not speak thus to a third, You are intoxicated with your own splendour, and fascinated with your own charms, you aspire at nothing less than to make all mankind your worshippers, offering incense to the idol you yourself adore; with this view you break through the bounds of law, and the decency of your sex; your dress is vain and immodest, your conversation is loose, your deportment is indecent, and you think the world take you for a sort of goddess. No such thing. You deceive yourself. People say you have put off Christian modesty, and laid aside even worldly decency, and as they judge of your private life by your public deportment, how can they think otherwise? Fathers forbid their sons to keep your company, and mothers exhort their daughters to avoid your bad example.

3. Observe how godliness influences our fortune, by procuring us the confidence of other men, and above all by acquiring the blessing of God on our designs and undertakings. You are sometimes astonished at the alarming changes that happen in society, you are surprised to see some families decay, and others fall into absolute ruin. You cannot comprehend why some people, who held the other day the highest places in society, are now fallen from that pinnacle of grandeur, and involved in the deepest distress. Why this astonishment? There is a Providence, and though God often hides himself, though the ways of his providence are usually impenetrable, though it would be an unjust way of reasoning to say, such a person is wealthy, therefore he is holy, such a one is indigent, therefore he is wicked; yet the Lord sometimes comes out of that darkness in which he usually conceals himself, and raises a saint out of obscurity into a state of wealth and honour.

4. Consider what an influence godliness has in our happiness by calming our passions, and by setting bounds to our desires. Our faculties are finite: but our desires are boundless. From this disproportion between our desires and our faculties a thousand conflicts arise, which distress and destroy the soul. Observe the labour of an ambitious man, he is obliged to sacrifice to his prince his ease, his liberty, and his life; he must appear to applaud what he inwardly condemns; and he must adjust all his opinions and sertiments by the ideas of his master. See what toils worldly honour imposes on its votaries; a man of honour must revenge an affront after he has pardoned it, and to that he must expose his establishment and his fortune, he must run the risk of being obliged either to quit his country, or to suffer such punishment as the law inflicts on those, who take that sword into their own hands, which God has put into the hand of the magistrate, he must stab the person he loves, the person who loves him, and who offended him more through inadvertence than animosity; he must stifle all the suggestions which conscience urges against a man who ventures his salvation on the precarious success of a duel, and who by so doing braves all the horrors of hell. Above all, what is the condition of a heart, with what cruel alternatives is it racked and torn, when it is occupied by two passions, which oppose and counteract each other. Take ambition and avarice for an example; for, my brethren, the heart of a man is sometimes the seat of two opposite tyrants, each of whom has views and interests different from the other. Avarice says keep, ambition says give, avarice says hold fast, ambition says give up. Avarice says retire, ambition says go abroad. Ambition combats avarice, avarice combats ambition, each by turns distresses the heart, and if it groans under tyranny, whether avarice or ambition be the tyrant is indifferent. The pleasure of seeing one passion reign is always poisoned by the pain of seeing the other subdued They resemble that woman, whose twin 'children struggled together within her,' and who said during the painful sensations, If it must be so, why was I a mother?

Piety prevents these fatal effects, it makes us content with the condition in which Providence has placed us: it does more, it teaches us to be happy in any condition, how mean soever it may be. I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content: I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Every where and in all things I am instructed, both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need,' Phil. iv. 11, 12.

5. Consider the peace which piety diffuses in the conscience. The prosperity of those who desire to free themselves from conscience, is such as to make them miserable in the midst of their greatest success. What pleasure can a man enjoy, who cannot bear to be one moment alone; a man, who needs perpetual dissipation to hide from himself his real condition; a man, who cannot reflect on the past without remorse, think on the present without confu

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sion, or the future without despair; a man, who carries within himself that obstinate reprover, on whom he cannot impose silence; a man, who already feels the worm that dieth not' gnawing him; a man, who sees in the midst of his most jovial festivals the writing of a man's hand,' which he cannot read, but which his conscience most faithfully and terribly interprets; I ask what pleasure can-such a man enjoy ?

Godliness not only frees us from these torments, but it communicates joy into every part of the pious man's life. If the believer be in prosperity, he considers it as an effect of the goodness of God, the governor of this universe, and as a pledge of blessings reserved for him in another world. If he be in adversity, indeed he considers it as a chastisement coming from the hand of a wise and tender parent: and the same may be said of every other condition.

6. In fine, consider how piety influences the happiness of life, by the assurance it gives us of a safe, if not a comfortable death. There is not a single moment in life, in which it is not possible we should die; consequently there is not one instant, that may not be unhappy, if we be not in a condition to die well. While we are destitute of this assurance, we live in perpetual trouble and agitation, we see the sick, we meet funeral processions, we attend the dying, and all these different objects become motives of horror and pain. It is only when we are prepared to die well, that we bid defiance to winds and waves, fires and shipwrecks, and that, by opposing to all these perilous casualties the hope of a happy death, we every where experience the joy with which it inspires such as wait for it.

Collect all these articies, and unite all these advantages in one. I ask now, is it an improbable proposition, that virtue has a reward in itself, sufficient to indemnify us for all we suffer on account of it, so that though there were nothing to expect from this life, yet it would be a problem, whether it would not be better, all things considered, to practise godliness than to live in sin.

But this is not the consequence we mean to draw from our principles. We do not intend to make this use of our observations. We will not dispute with the sinner whether he finds pleasure in the practice of sin, but as he assures us, that it gives him more pleasure to gratify his passions than to subdue them, we will neither deny the fact, nor find fault with his taste, but allow that he must know better than any body what gives himself most pleas

ure.

We only derive this consequence from all we have been hearing, that the advantages which accompany godliness, are sufficient to support us in a course of action, that leads to eternal felicity.

This eternal felicity the apostle had chiefly in view, and on this we would fix your attention in the close of this discourse. Godliness hath promise of the life that now is,' is a proposition, we think, plain and clear: but however, it is disputable you say, subject to many exceptions, and liable to a great number of difficulties: but godliness hath promise of the life

that is to come,' it a proposition which cannot be disputed, it is free from all difficulty, and can admit of no exception.

Having taken up nearly all the time allotted to this exercise, I will finish with one reflection. • Promise of the life to come,' annexed to godliness, is not a mere promise, it puts even in this life the pious man in possession of one part of the benefits, the perfect possession of which he lives in hope of enjoying. Follow him in four periods-First in society-Next in the closet-Then in a participation of holy ordinances And lastly, at the approach of death: you will find him participating the eternal felicity, which is the object of his hope.

In society. What is the life of a man, who never goes into the company of his fellow creatures without doing them good; of a man who after the example of Jesus Christ' goes about doing good;' a man, who every where shows the light of a good example, who endeavours to win all hearts to God, who never ceases to publish his perfections, and to celebrate his praise, what I ask, is the life of such a man? It is an angelical life, it is a heavenly life, it is an anticipation of that life which happy spirits live in heaven, it is a foretaste and prelibation of those pleasures which are at the right hand of God,' and of that fulness of joy,' which is found in contemplating his majesty.

Follow the pious man into the silent closet. There he recollects, concentres himself, and loses himself in God. There, in the rich source of religion, he quenches the thirst of knowing, elevating, perpetuating, and extending himself, which burns within him, and there he feels how God, the author of his nature, proportions himself to the boundless capacity of the human heart. There, ye earthly thoughts, ye worldly cares, ye troublesome birds of prey, that so often perplex us in life, there you have no access! There, revolving in his mind the divers objects presented to him in religion, he feels the various emotions that are proper to each. Sometimes the rich gifts of God in nature, and the insignificance of man the receiver, are objects of his contemplation, and then he exclaims, O Lord, my Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained,' Ps. viii. 1.3. I cannot help crying, 'What is man that thou art mindful of him! and the son of man that thou visitest him!' ver. 4. Sometimes the brightness of the divine perfections shining in Jesus Christ fixes his attention, and then he exclaims, Thou art fairer than the children of men, grace is poured into thy lips, therefore God hath blessed thee for ever! Ps. xlv. 2. Sometimes his mind contemplates that train of favours, with which God has enriched every believer in his church, and then he cries, Many, O Lord my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order before thee! Would I declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered! Ps. xl. 5. Sometimes it is the sacrifice of the cross, and then he says, Without controversy great is the mystery of godli

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ness; God was manifest in the flesh!' 1 Tim. iii. 16. Sometimes it is the joy of possessing God, and then his language is, 'My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness!' Ps. lxiii. 5. Sometimes it is the desire of enjoying God in a greater measure, and in a richer abundance, and then he says with Asaph, My supreme good is to draw near to God. When shall I come, O when shall I come and appear before God!' Psa. lxxiii. 28, and xlii. 2.

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Follow this man in the participation of holy ordinances. Represent to yourselves a man, who after preparing himself some days, or some weeks for the holy communion, bringing thither a heart proportioned to the labour, which he has taken to dispose it properly: imagine such a man sitting at this table along with the ambitious, the impure, the revengeful, the vain, all the members of this community; suppose this man saying to himself, they are not only men who see and consider me, they are angels, who encamp around such as love God; it is Jesus Christ, who sits amidst his disciples assembled in his name; it is God himself who sees all, and examines all the dispositions I bring to his table. It is not only an invitation to this table given by ministers, it is ⚫wisdom who hath furnished her table, mingled her wine,' Prov. ix. 1, 2. and who cries,

Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters,' Isaiah lv. It is my Saviour, who says to me, 'With desire I have desired to eat with you,' Luke xxii. 15. It is not only material bread that I am receiving, it is a symbol of the body and blood of Christ, it is his flesh and blood under the elements of bread and wine. It will be not only a little tranquillity of conscience, which I shall receive at this table, if I enter into the spirit of the mystery set before me: but I shall have consolations on my deathbed, triumphs after death, and oceans of felicity and glory for ever. God has not preserved me till now merely to give me an opportunity of sitting here: but to open to me the treasures of his patience and long-suffering; to enable me to repent of my former negligence of breaking the sabbath, profaning the communion, committing iniquity, forgetting my promises, and offending my Creator.

I ask, my brethren, what is the man who approaches the Lord's table with such dispositions? Is he a common man? Verily with eyes of flesh, I see nothing to distinguish him from the crowd. I see this man confounded with all others, whom a lax discipline suffers to partake of this ordinance, and to receive with unclean hands and a profane mouth, the most holy symbol of our religion; at most, I see only an agitation of his senses, a spark shining in his eye, a look cast towards heaven, emotions which the veil of humility that covers him cannot entirely conceal: but with the eyes of my mind I behold a man of a superior order, a man in paradise, a man nourished with pleasure at the right hand of God, a man at whose conversion the angels of God rejoice, a man fastened to the triumphal car of Jesus Christ, and who makes the glory of the triumph, a man who has the happy art of making

heaven descend into his soul; I behold amidst the miseries and vanities of the world, a man already justified.' already raised,' already glorified,' already sitting in heavenly places with Jesus Christ,' Rom. viii. 30; Eph. ii. 6. I see a man ascending to heaven along with Jesus Christ, amidst the shouting of the heavenly choir, Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and let the King of glory in,' Ps. xxiv. 7. I see a man' with uncovered face beholding the glory of the Lord,' and changing from glory to glory by the Spirit of the Lord,' 2 Cor. iii. 18.

But it is particularly in a dying bed that the pious man enjoys foretastes of the life to come. A worldling is confounded at the approach of that dismal night, which hides futurity from him; or rather, despair seizes his soul at the rising of that dreadful light, which discovers to him a dispensation of punishment, in spite of his obstinate denial of it. Then he sees fire, flames, devils, a lake of fire, the smoke of which ascendeth up for ever and ever.' Then he shrinks back from the bitter cup, the dregs of which he must drink; he tries, though in vain, to put off the end by his too late prayer, and he cries at its approach Mountains fall on me, hills cover me! As for the believer, he sees and desires nothing but that dispensation of happiness, which he has already embraced by faith, possessed by hope, and tasted by the comforts of the Holy Spirit in his soul; and hence comes that active fervour, which makes his countenance luminous like that of departing Stephen. I cannot better express such sentiments than in the words of the primitive saints, who so happily experienced them.

'I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord! I know that my Redeemer liveth, and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold and not another. Though thou slayest me, yet will I trust in thee, O God! Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 1 will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded, that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day. Neither count I my life dear so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord. I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Lord Jesus receive my spirit. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? In these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God! my soul thirsteth for God, for the living God! When shall I come and appear before God? How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, they