barous devastations we read of, where whole nations have been put to the sword, or have been driven out to nakedness and famine, to make room for new-comers! Consider how great a part of our species, in all ages down to this, have been trod under the feet of cruel and capricious tyrants, who would neither hear their cries nor pity their distresses! Consider slavery-what it is-how bitter a draught, and how many millions have been made to drink of it! which, if it can poison all earthly happiness when exercised barely upon our bodies, what must it be when it comprehends both the slavery of body and mind! To conceive this, look into the history of the Romish Church and her tyrants, or rather executioners, who seem to have taken pleasure in the pangs and convulsions of their fellow-creatures! Examine the Inquisition, hear the melancholy notes sounded in every cell ! Consider the anguish of mock trials, and the exquisite tortures consequent thereupon, mercilessly inflicted upon the unfortunate, where the racked and weary soul has so often wished to take its leave, but cruelly not suffered to depart! Consider how many of these helpless wretches have been hauled thence, in all periods of this tyrannic usurpation, to undergo the massacres and flames to which a false and a bloody religion has condemned them!

If this sad history and detail of the more public causes of the miseries of man are not sufficient, let us behold him in another light, with respect to the more private causes of them, and see whether he is not full of trouble likewise there, and almost born to it as naturally as the sparks fly upwards. If we consider man as a creature full of wants and necessities, whether real or imaginary, which he is not able to supply of himself, what a train of disappointments, vexations, and dependences are to be seen issuing thence, to perplex and make his being uneasy! How many jostlings and hard struggles do we undergo in making our way in the world! How barbarously held back! How often and basely overthrown, in aiming only at getting bread! How many of us never attain it, at least not comfortably! but, from various and unknown causes, eat it all our lives long in bitterness!

If we shift the scene, and look upwards, towards those whose situation in life seems to place them above the sorrows of this kind, yet where are they exempt from others? Do not all ranks and conditions of men meet with sad accidents and numberless calamities in other respects, which often make them go heavily all their lives long?

How many fall into chronical infirmities which render both their days and nights restless and insupportable! How many of the highest rank are torn up with ambition or soured with disappointments; and how many more, from a

thousand secret causes of disquiet, pine away in silence, and owe their deaths to sorrow and dejection of heart! If we cast our eyes upon the lowest class and condition of life, the scene is more melancholy still. Millions of our fellowcreatures, born to no inheritance but poverty and trouble, forced by the necessity of their lots to drudgery and painful employments, and hard set with that too, to get enough to keep themselves and families alive! So that, upon the whole, when we have examined the true state and condition of human life, and have made some allowances for a few fugacious, deceitful pleasures, there is scarce anything to be found which contradicts Job's description of it. Whichever way we look abroad, we see some legible characters of what God first denounced against us-That in sorrow we should eat our bread, till we return to the ground whence we were taken.'1

But some one will say, Why are we thus to be put out of love with human life? To what purpose is it to expose the dark sides of it to us, or enlarge upon the infirmities which are natural, and consequently out of our power to redress?

I answer that the subject is nevertheless of great importance, since it is necessary every creature should understand his present state and condition, to put him in mind of behaving suitably to it. Does not an impartial survey of man-the holding up of this glass to show his defects and natural infirmities-naturally tend to cure his pride, and clothe him with humility, which is a dress that best becomes a short-lived and a wretched creature? Does not the consideration of the shortness of our life convince us of the wisdom of dedicating so small a portion to the great purposes of eternity?

Lastly, When we reflect that this span of life, short as it is, is chequered with so many troubles that there is nothing in this world springs up or can be enjoyed without a mixture of sorrow, how insensibly does it incline us to turn our eyes and affections from so gloomy a prospect, and fix them upon that happier country where afflictions cannot follow us, and where God will wipe away all tears from off our faces for ever and ever! Amen.

XI.-EVIL-SPEAKING.

'If any man among you seem to be religions, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.'-JAMES 1. 26.

Or the many duties owing both to God and our neighbour, there are scarce any men so bad as not to acquit themselves of some; and few so good, I fear, as to practise all.

Every man seems willing enough to compound the matter, and adopt so much of the system as

Most of these reflections upon the miseries of life are taken from Woollaston.

So, on the other hand, a man shall live without God in the world, have neither any great sense of religion, nor indeed pretend to have any, and yet be of nicest honour, conscientiously just and fair in all his dealing. And here it is that men generally betray themselves, deceiving, as the apostle says, their own hearts; of which the instances are so various, in one degree or other, throughout human life, that one might safely say the bulk of mankind live in such a contradiction to themselves that there is no character so hard to be met with as one which, upon a critical examination, will appear altogether uniform, and in every point consistent with itself.

If such a contrast was only observable in the different stages of a man's life, it would cease to be either a matter of wonder or of just reproach. Age, experience, and much reflection | may naturally enough be supposed to alter a man's sense of things, and so entirely to transform him, that not only in outward appearances, but in the very cast and turn of his mind, he may be as unlike and different from the man he was twenty or thirty years ago as he ever was from anything of his own species. This, I say, is naturally to be accounted for, and in some cases might be praiseworthy too; but the observation is to be made of men in the same period of their lives, that in the same day, sometimes in the very same action, they are utterly inconsistent and irreconcilable with themselves. Look at a man in one light, and he shall seem wise, penetrating, discreet, and brave; behold him in another point of view, and you see a creature all over folly and indiscretion, weak and timorous as cowardice and indiscretion can make him. A man shall appear gentle, courteous, and benevolent to all mankind: follow him into his own house, may be you see a tyrant, morose and savage to all whose happiness depends upon his kindness. A third in his general behaviour is found to be generous, disinterested, humane, and friendly hear but the sad story of the friendless orphans, too credulously trusting all their little substance into his hands, and he shall appear more sordid, more pitiless, and unjust than the injured themselves have bitterness to paint him. Another shall be charitable to the poor, uncharitable in his censures and opinions of all the rest of the world besides ; temperate in his appetites, intemperate in his

And this seems to be that particular piece of inconsistency and contradiction which the text is levelled at, in which the words seem so pointed as if St. James had known more flagrant instances of this kind of delusion than what had fallen under the observation of any of the rest of the Apostles, he being more remarkably vehement and copious upon that subject than any other.

Doubtless some of his converts had been notoriously wicked and licentious in this remorseless practice of defamation and evil speaking. Perhaps the holy man, though spotless as an angel (for no character is too sacred for calumny to blacken), had grievously suffered himself, and, as his blessed Master foretold him, had been cruelly reviled and evil spoken of.

All his labours in the gospel, his unaffected and perpetual solicitude for the preservation of his flock, his watchings and fastings, his poverty, his natural simplicity and innocence of life, all perhaps were not enough to defend him from this unruly weapon, so full of deadly poison; and what in all likelihood might move his sorrow and indignation more, some who seemed the most devout and zealous of all his converts were the most merciless and uncharitable in that respect; having a form of godliness, full of bitter envyings and strife.

With such it is that he expostulates so largely in the third chapter of his epistle; and there is something in his vivacity tempered with such affection and concern as well suited the character of an inspired man. My brethren, says the Apostle, these things ought not to be. The wisdom that is from above is pure, peaceable, gentle, full of mercy, without partiality, without hypocrisy. The wisdom from above, that heavenly religion which I have preached to you, is pure, alike and consistent with itself in all its parts; like its great author, 'tis universally kind and benevolent in all cases and circumstances. Its first glad tidings were peace upon earth, good-will towards men; its chief cornerstone, its most distinguishing character, is love —that kind principle which brought it down, in the pure exercise of which consists the chief enjoyment of heaven, whence it came. But this practice, my brethren, cometh not from above; but it is earthly, sensual, devilish, full of confusion and every evil work. Reflect then a moment: can a fountain send forth at the same place sweet water and bitter? Can the

fig-tree, my brethren, bear olive-berries? either a vine, figs? Lay your hands upon your hearts, and let your consciences speak. Ought not the same just principle which restrains you from cruelty and wrong in one case, equally to withhold you from it in another? Should not charity and good-will, like the principle of life, circulating through the smallest vessels in every member,―ought it not to operate as regularly upon you throughout, as well upon your words as upon your actions?

If a man is wise, and endued with knowledge, let him show it out of a good conversation, with meckness and wisdom. But if any man amongst you seemeth to be religious (seemeth to be, for truly religious he cannot be), and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain. This is the full force of St. James' reasoning, upon which I have dwelt the more, it being the foundation upon which is grounded this clear decision of the matter left us in the text; in which the Apostle seems to have set the two characters of a saint and slanderer at such variance, that one would have thought they could never have had the heart to have met together again. But there are no alliances too strange for this world. How many may we observe every day, even of the gentler sex as well as our own, who, without conviction of doing much wrong, in the midst of a full career of calumny and defamation, rise up punctually at the stated hour of prayer, leave the cruel story half untold till they return; go and kneel down before the throne of Heaven, thank God that he had not made them like others, and that his Holy Spirit had enabled them to perform the duties of the day in so Christian and conscientious a manner.

This delusive itch for slander, too common in all ranks of people, whether to gratify a little ungenerous resentment; whether oftener out of a principle of levelling, from a narrowness and poverty of soul, ever impatient of merit and superiority in others; whether from a mean ambition, or the insatiate lust of being witty (a talent in which ill-nature and malice are no ingredients); or lastly, whether from a natural cruelty of disposition, abstracted from all views and considerations of self: to which one, or whether to all jointly, we are indebted for this contagious malady, thus much is certain, from whatever seeds it springs, the growth and progress of it are as destructive to, as they are unbecoming, a civilised people. To pass a hard and ill-natured reflection upon an undesigning action; to invent, or which is equally bad, to propagate, a vexatious report without colour and grounds; to plunder an innocent man of his character and good name, a jewel which perhaps he has starved himself to purchase, and probably would hazard his life to secure; to rob him at the same time of his happiness and peace of mind, perhaps his bread, the bread,

may be, of a virtuous family; and all this, as Solomon says of the madman who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death, and saith, Am I not in sport?-all this out of wantonness, and oftener from worse motives, the whole appears such a complication of badness as requires no words or warmth of fancy to aggravate. Pride, treachery, envy, hypocrisy, malice, cruelty, and self-love may have been said, in one shape or other, to have occasioned all the frauds and mischiefs that ever happened in the world; but the chances against a coincidence of them all in one person are so many, that one would have supposed the character of a common slanderer as rare and difficult a production in nature as that of a great genius, which seldom happens above once in an age.

But whatever was the cause when St. James wrote his epistle, we have been very successful in latter days, and have found out the art, by a proper management of light and shade, to compound all these vices together, so as to give body and strength to the whole, whilst no one but a discerning artist is able to discover the labours that join in finishing the picture; and indeed, like many other bad originals in the world, it stands in need of all the disguise it has. For who could be enamoured of a character made up of so loathsome a compound, could they behold it naked, in its crooked and deformed shape, with all its natural and detested infirmities laid open to public view?

And therefore it were to be wished that one would do, in this malignant case of the mind, what is generally done for the public good in the more malignant and epidemical cases of the body; that is, when they are found infectious, to write a history of the distemper, and ascertain all the symptoms of the malady, so that every one might know whom he might venture to go near, with tolerable safety to himself. But, alas! the symptoms of this appear in so many strange and contradictory shapes, and vary so wonderfully with the temper and habit of the patient, that they are not to be classed, nor reduced to any one regular system.

Ten thousand are the vehicles in which this deadly poison is prepared and communicated to the world; and by some artful hands 'tis done by so subtle and nice an infusion, that it is not to be tasted or discovered but by its effects.

How frequently is the honesty and integrity of a man disposed of by a smile or a shrug! How many good and generous actions have beer sunk into oblivion by a distrustful look! or stamped with the imputation of proceeding from bad motives, by a mysterious and seasonable whisper !

Look into companies of those whose gentle natures should disarm them, we shall find no better account. How large a portion of chastity is sent out of the world by distant hints, nodded away and cruelly winked into suspicion by the

envy of those who are past all temptation of it themselves! How often does the reputation of a helpless creature bleed by report, which the party who is at the pains to propagate it beholds with much pity and fellow-feeling! that she is heartily sorry for it-hopes in God it is not true! however, as Archbishop Tillotson wittily observes upon it, is resolved in the meantime to give the report her pass, that at least it may have fair play to take its fortune in the world, -to be believed or not, according to the charity of those into whose hands it shall happen to fall. So fruitful is this vice in a variety of experiments, to satiate as well as disguise itself. But if these smoother weapons cut so sore, what shall we say of open and unblushing scandal, subjected to no caution, tied down to no restraints? If the one, like an arrow shot in the dark, does nevertheless so much secret mischief, this, like the pestilence which rageth at noonday, sweeps all before it, levelling without distinction the good and the bad; a thousand fall beside it, and ten thousand on its right hand; they fall, so rent and torn in this tender part of them, so unmercifully butchered, as sometimes never to recover either the wounds or the anguish of heart which they have occasioned.

But there is nothing so bad which will not admit of something to be said in its defence.

And here it may be asked whether the inconveniences and ill effects which the world feels from the licentiousness of this practice are not sufficiently counterbalanced by the real influence it has upon men's lives and conduct? That if there was no evil speaking in the world, thousands would be encouraged to do ill, and would rush into many indecorums, like a horse into the battle, were they sure to escape the tongues of men.

That if we take a general view of the world, we shall find that a great deal of virtue, at least of the outward appearance of it, is not so much from any fixed principle as the terror of what the world will say, and the liberty it will take upon the occasions we shall give.

That, if we descend to particulars, numbers are every day taking more pains to be well spoken of, than what would actually enable them to live so as to deserve it.

That there are many of both sexes who can support life well enough without honour and chastity, who, without reputation (which is but the opinion which the world has of the matter), would hide their heads in shame, and sink down in utter despair of happiness. No doubt the tongue is a weapon which does chastise many indecorums which the laws of men will not reach, and keeps many in awe whom conscience will not; and, where the case is indisputably flagrant, the speaking of it in such words as it deserves scarce comes within the prohibition. In many cases 'tis hard to express ourselves so as to fix a distinction betwixt opposite charac

ters; and sometimes it may be as much a debt we owe to virtue, and as great a piece of justice, to expose a vicious character, and paint it in its proper colours, as it is to speak well of the deserving, and describe his particular virtues. And, indeed, when we inflict this punishment upon the bad merely out of principle, and without indulgence to any private passion of our own, 'tis a case which happens so seldom, that one might venture to except it.

However, to those who, in this objection, are really concerned for the cause of virtue, I cannot help recommending what would much more effectually serve her interest, and be a surer token of their zeal and attachment to her, and that is, in all such plain instances where it seems to be a duty to fix a distinction betwixt the good and the bad, to let their actions speak it instead of their words, or at least to let them both speak one language. We all of us talk so loud against vicious characters, and are so unanimous in our cry against them, that an inexperienced man, who only trusted his ears, would imagine the whole world was in an uproar about it, and that mankind were all associating together to hunt vice utterly out of the world. Shift the scene, and let him behold the reception which vice meets with: he will see the conduct and behaviour of the world towards it, so opposite to their declarations: he will find all he heard so contradicted by what he saw, as to leave him in doubt which of his senses he is to trust, or in which of the two cases mankind were really in earnest. Was there virtue enough in the world to make a general stand against this contradiction,-that is, was every one who deserved to be ill spoken of sure to be ill looked on too;-was it a certain consequence of the loss of a man's character, to lose his friends, to lose the advantages of his birth and fortune, and thenceforth be universally shunned, and universally slighted ;

Was no quality a shelter against the indecorums of the other sex, but was every woman, without distinction, who had justly forfeited her reputation,-from that moment was she sure to forfeit likewise all claim to civility and respect!

Or, in a word, could it be established as a law in our ceremonial, that, wherever characters in either sex were become notorious, it should be deemed infamous either to pay or receive a visit from them, and the door were to be shut against them in all public places, till they had satisfied the world, by giving testimony of a better life, a few such plain and honest maxims, faithfully put in practice, would force upon us some degree of reformation. Till this is done, it avails little that we have no mercy upon them with our tongues, since they escape without feeling any other inconvenience.

We all cry out that the world is corrupt, and, I fear, too justly; but we never reflect what we