able; and the friendship which they take up, upon the accounts of judgment and merit, they most times lay down out of humor. But the friendship of Christ has none of these weaknesses, no such hollowness or unsoundness in it. For neither principalities, nor powers, things present, nor things to come, no, nor all the rage and malice of hell, shall be able to pluck the meanest of Christ's friends out of his bosom: for, whom he loves, he loves to the end.

Now, from the particulars hitherto discoursed of, we may infer and learn these two things: 1. The excellency and value of friendship. Christ the Son of the most high God, the second person in the glorious Trinity, took upon him our nature, that he might give a great instance and example of this virtue; and condescended to be a man, only that he might be a friend. Our Creator, our Lord and King, he was before; but he would needs come down from all this, and in a sort become our equal, that he might partake of that noble quality that is properly between equals. Christ took not upon him flesh and blood that he might conquer and rule nations, lead armies, or possess palaces; but that he might have the relenting, the tenderness, and the compassions of human nature, which render it properly capable of friendship; and, in a word, that he might have our heart, and we have his. God himself sets friendship above all considerations of kindred or consanguinity, as the greatest ground and argument of mutual endearment, in Deut. xv. 6: If thy brother, the son of thy mother, or thy son, or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is as thine own soul, entice thee to go and serve other gods, thou shalt not consent unto him. The emphasis of the expression is very remarkable; it being a gradation or ascent, by several degrees of dearness, to that which is the highest of all. Neither wife nor brother, son nor daughter, though the nearest in cognation, are allowed to stand in competition with a friend; who, if he fully answers the duties of that great relation, is indeed better and more valuable than all of them put together, and may serve instead of them; so that he who has a firm, a worthy, and sincere friend, may want all the rest, without missing them. That which lies in a man's bosom should be dear to him, but that which lies within his heart ought to be much dearer.

2. In the next place, we learn from hence the high advantage of becoming truly pious and religious. When we have said and done all, it is only the true Christian and the religious person who is or can be sure of a friend; sure of obtaining, sure of keeping him. But as for the friendship of the world; when a man shall have done all that he can to make one his friend, employed the utmost of his wit and labor, beaten his brains, and emptied his purse, to create an endearment between him and the person whose friendship he desires, he may, in the end, upon all these endeavors and attempts, be forced to write vanity and frustration: for by them all he may at last be no more able to get into the other's heart than he is to thrust his hand into a pillar of brass. The man's affection, amidst all these kindnesses done him, remaining wholly unconcerned and impregnable; just like a rock, which, being plied continually by the waves, still throws them back again into the bosom of the sea that sent them, but is not at all moved by any of them.

People at first, while they are young and raw, and softnatured, are apt to think it an easy thing to gain love, and reckon their own friendship a sure price of another man's. But when experience shall have once opened their eyes, and showed them the hardness of most hearts, the hollowness of others, and the baseness and ingratitude of almost all, they will then find that a friend is the gift of God; and that he only, who made hearts, can unite them. For it is he who creates those sympathies and suitableness of nature, that are the foundation of all true friendship, and then by his providence brings persons so affected together.

It is an expression frequent in scripture, but infinitely more significant than at first it is usually observed to be; namely, that God gave such or such a person grace or favor in another's eyes. As for instance, in Gen. xxxix. 21, it is said of Joseph, that the Lord was with him, and gave him favor in the sight of the keeper of the prison. Still it is an invisible hand from heaven that ties this knot, and mingles hearts and souls, by strange, secret, and unaccountable conjunctions.

That heart shall surrender itself and its friendship to one man, at first view, which another has in vain been laying

siege to for many years, by all the repeated acts of kindness imaginable.

Nay, so far is friendship from being of any human production, that, unless nature be predisposed to it by its own propensity or inclination, no arts of obligation shall be able to abate the secret hatreds and hostilities of some persons towards others. No friendly offices, no addresses, no benefits whatsoever, shall ever alter or allay that diabolical rancor that frets and ferments in some hellish breasts, but that upon all occasions it will foam out at its foul mouth in slander and invective, and sometimes bite too in a shrewd turn or a secret blow. This is true and undeniable upon frequent experience; and happy those who can learn it at the cost of other men's.

But now, on the contrary, he who will give up his name to Christ in faith unfeigned, and a sincere obedience to all his righteous laws, shall be sure to find love for love, and friendship for friendship. The success is certain and infallible; and none ever yet miscarried in the attempt. For Christ freely offers his friendship to all, and sets no other rate upon so vast a purchase, but only that we would suffer him to be our friend. Thou perhaps spendest thy precious time in waiting upon such a great one, and thy estate in presenting him, and probably, after all, hast no other reward but sometimes to be smiled upon, and always to be smiled at; and when thy greatest and most pressing occasions shall call for succor and relief, then to be deserted and cast off, and not known.

Now, I say, turn the stream of thy endeavors another way, and bestow but half that hearty, sedulous attendance upon thy Saviour in the duties of prayer and mortification, and be at half that expense in charitable works, by relieving Christ in his poor members; and, in a word, study as much to please him who died for thee, as thou dost to court and humor thy great patron, who cares not for thee, and thou shalt make him thy friend forever; a friend who shall own thee in thy lowest condition, speak comfort to thee in all thy sorrows, counsel thee in all thy doubts, answer all thy wants, and, in a word, never leave thee, nor forsake thee. But when all the hopes that thou hast raised upon the promises or supposed kindnesses of the fastidious and fallacious great ones

of the world shall fail, and upbraid thee to thy face, he shall then take thee into his bosom, embrace, cherish, and support thee, and, as the Psalmist expresses it, he shall guide thee with his counsel here, and afterwards receive thee into glory.

To which God of his mercy vouchsafe to bring us all; to whom be rendered and ascribed, &c. Amen.

SERMON XV.

A DISCOURSE AGAINST LONG EXTEMPORARY PRAYERS.

ECCLESIASTES V. 2. Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine heart be hasty to utter any thing before God: for God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy words be few.

WE

have here the wisest of men instructing us how to behave ourselves before God in his own house; and particularly when we address to him in the most important of all duties, which is prayer. Solomon had the honor to be spoken to by God himself, and therefore, in all likelihood, none more fit to teach us how to speak to God. A great privilege certainly for dust and ashes to be admitted to; and therefore it will concern us to manage it so, that in these our approaches to the King of heaven, his goodness may not cause us to forget his greatness, nor (as it is but too usual for subjects to use privilege against prerogative) his honor suffer by his condescension.

In the words we have these three things observable :

1st, That whosoever appears in the house of God, and particularly in the way of prayer, ought to reckon himself, in a more especial manner, placed in the sight and presence of God.

2dly, That the vast and infinite distance between God and him ought to create in him all imaginable awe and reverence in such his addresses to God.

3dly and lastly, That this reverence required of him is to consist in a serious preparation of his thoughts, and a sober government of his expressions: neither is his mouth to be rash, nor his heart to be hasty, in uttering any thing before God.

These things are evidently contained in the words, and do