the possession of the enemy. He hears the roar of triumph-it is the triumph of lewdness and impiety. He listens to the song of panegyric;—it is the panegyric of vice. A smile of derision plays on the countenance of his associates, and their sneer is directed against piety and virtue. He begins to associate a degree of importance with impiety and vice; he is unwilling to appear inferior to the profanest of his associates in the qualities in which they glory; and thus the very person, who, in more favourable circumstances, might have been led to aspire to the highest moral attainments, is now, by a perverted desire of applause, rendered ambitious to distinguish himself by the extravagance of folly and crime. But this, it may be alleged, is an extreme case. Would to Heaven it were an uncommon case! For the correctness of these observations we may appeal, with but too much confidence, to the experience of the licentious themselves. Let the profligate retrace his steps in the career of guilt; he will find that the remonstrances of his conscience have uniformly been overruled by a regard to the opinion of his associates; that, when he hesitated before proceeding to any new enormity, he was goaded on by the hope of their applause; that, when he was inclined to return to the path of duty, he was deterred by the dread of their derision; in fine, that he was less. generally impelled by an actual inclination to sin, than by an ill-directed love of praise. 2 Even of those who are in general influenced by nobler motives, very few, perhaps, can boast that they have not been occasionally misled, by an undue regard to the opinion of others, into a deliberate violation of their most sacred principles. What is more common, yet what can be more absurd, more insulting to religion and to common sense, than to hear such an apology as this offered in vindication of their conduct by persons who allow themselves "to follow a multitude to do, evil," to be hurried by the current of fashion or of popular opinion into practices which their hearts condemn? We are convinced," say they, "that these practices are wrong, but something is due to the opinion of mankind." Yes! much is due to the opinion of mankind. A sacred regard to character; a shrinking dread even of the slightest imputation of what is really criminal—this is due to the opinion of mankind→→ this is the purpose for which the desire of their approbation was implanted in your breasts. But if you allow this desire to interfere in one instance with your sense of duty-what is this, but to exalt the creature to the throne of the Creator; to prefer the praise of beings, erring and feeble as ourselves, to the praise of the Omniscient and Almighty God. 3. There is not a more dependant slave, than the person who has allowed an excessive anxiety. for the praise of men to take possession of his breast. Of true dignity of character he is, alto gether incapable; since he is influenced not by the unbiassed suggestions of reason-not by a reference to the fixed and unalterable standards of moral rectitude-not by those sacred principles of love to God and to mankind, from which all genuine religion and virtue flow-but merely by a regard to the opinion which may be entertained of him by those to whom his actions are known. And who are the guides into whose hands he thus resigns the reins of his conduct? who the judges to whom he appeals for the due meed of praise? Were they only the wise and the good, their approbation would indeed be valuable; and the desire to obtain it could not fail to produce the most beneficial effects. Yet, even in that case, a generous mind could not brook the consciousness of being applauded, even by those whose praise is worth ambition, for motives of which they could not approve the motive; a motive in itself so limited and low, and so unlike the principles by which they themselves are animated. Besides, an exalted mind would feel it as a degradation to be dependent for happiness on the opinion evén of the wisest and best of human beings. How miserable, then, is the bondage in which he is held, who has placed his happiness at the mercy of the ignorant, the unprincipled, the prejudiced, the envious, and the malignant; who allows himself to be agitated by the strife of tongues; whom the poisoned breath of calumny can throw into a fever of agony; and who, even in the |