mility of the best Christian will not stoop so low, as the servility of a knave can do. The last property of deceit I shall mention, is flattery. A deceitful man uses this for two purposes; in the first place, to prevent the harshness, with which he fears to be handled; and, in the next, to wriggle himself into the hearts of such people as he hath a design on; whether his design is some shrewd trick he is scheming against themselves, or that he intends to make them his instruments to impose on others. He hath always in readiness a thousand soothing things to tickle your ears with; and, if he takes you to be a coxcomb, he will daub you with the grossest praises, face to face, and lay on the scurf so thick, that it will be difficult for you to see you are a man through it. And yet, if you are a man, that is, if you are a rational creature, so nauseous is the mess he makes you swallow, that the stomach of your vanity, if it is not very strong, will hardly be able to keep it down.

If you do not already know this sort of villain, I will tell you how to distinguish him by his picture. When he hath a design on you, he comes crouching, and bowing, and smiling; but his smiles leer a little towards cunning. His eye, repressed by consciousness, is turned downward. He seldom looks straight in your face. If his eye at any time meets yours, it is somewhat aside, while his face is not directly towards you. When he begins to speak, he beats round and round the bush; makes long preambles to the business he is going to touch on; feels how your pulse beats, by distant hints; and draws at length towards the matter by the most artful preparations; working himself into your heart by flattery, and into your judgment by insinuation. Every thing about him is made to co-operate with his tongue; for, as Solomon observes, he winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers.' When you meet with a man that answers to this sketch, look to yourself. Though he humble himself,' says the son of Sirach, and go crouching, yet take good heed and beware of him. Set him not by thee, lest, when he hath overthrown thee, he stand up in thy place. Who will pity a charmer that is bitten with a serpent? For a while, he will abide with thee, but if thou begin to fall, he will not tarry. If adversity come upon thee, thou shall find him there

first; and though he pretend to help thee, yet shall he undermine thee. He will shake his head, and clap his hands, and whisper much, and change his countenance.'

There is another kind of dissembler, in comparison of whom, he I have been speaking of, is a mere Nathanael, without guile; I mean him, who conceals a conscience that sticks at nothing, under the disguise of an open countenance, a frank air and address, with sometimes even a dash of bluntness or simplicity. This impostor is too refined to be found out by any thing, but repeated trials; and therefore is the most dangerous of all deceivers. As he can give himself an appearance so contrary to his real nature, so he can give a shew of plausibility, if not of strict honesty, to the vilest designs. You can hardly be so covetous, but he will chouse you; hardly so wise, but he will over-reach you; and hardly so honest, but he will make you his instrument in doing mischief. If you have not a keen penetration, and a most delicate sense of honour, it will be a gross piece of knavery indeed, that he will not, by some means or other, and in some measure, make you a party to; especially if he serves the faction you affect, and may merit his interest for you another time. If you give ground, he clenches you over a bottle; you get drunk together; and then you are a honest man, he is a honest man; you are staunch friends, and the job you are joined in, is a very honest worthy piece of work. During your familiarity with so open a man, you cannot help being open too; by which means he will worm himself into your secrets, and then you are his slave. But you will find he is at liberty; for although you should have helped to get him a church or a bridge to build, or some other profitable piece of public work; or even, although you should, with a puking conscience, have done his job for him on either jury, he will sell you and your secrets to your adversary, as soon as he can find his account in betraying you.

Would to God I could so speak of this infernal vice, as to make it thoroughly odious to such as do not yet sufficiently abhor it in themselves! Where shall I get a colour, deep, dark, and vile enough, to daub its filthy picture? If I compare it with other vices, they appear almost virtues beside it. Contentiousness hath a false bravery, incontinence a false gallantry, drunkenness a shew of good humour

and generosity, to boast of. Detraction may cover itself under the appearance of abhorrence for the vices of man kind; but cannot do this, till deceit helps it on with its cloak. As for pride, oppression, and cruelty, they carry with them a certain frightful air, yet they look somewhat grand and lordly. But deceit is the property only of the lowest and the most abject soul. It cannot subsist, but in the dark, nor effect its scandalous purposes, but by means the most base and shameful. As it is a maxim, that the corruption of that which is best in itself, is the worst of all corruptions; so deceit, which is the very debauchery of sense and understanding, is the worst sort of depravation. It is the noblest faculty of the soul, the inlet of faith and grace, the feature, that gives humanity a resemblance of God, degenerated into cunning; that vile instrument of sin, that monstrous distortion of reason, that detestable, that horrible image of the grand deceiver.

Deceit then is the most despicable and odious turn of mind, that ever disgraced the nature of man. If the other vices (for it enters deeply into them all but one or two) were to pay it back the deformity they borrow from it, they would cease to be so abominable as they are, and many of them would dwindle down to mere infirmities. How comes it then to pass, that no vice should be so common? How shall we account for it, that deceit should be the most universally detested, and yet the most universally practised, of all vices? The true answer is, avarice, ambition, lust, the reigning vices of the age, cannot be conceived, cannot be born, cannot be brought to maturity, or execution, without it. These other vices can never want an instrument to work with, a cloak to hide in, nor a devil to encourage them, while they have deceit to succour them.

Hence it is, that this vice, though so odious in itself, is not hated, though so despicable, is not despised, as it ought to be; but, from being often practised, comes to be countenanced; and, from being countenanced, to be encouraged and abetted. The greatest persons among us, are not ashamed to take a known villain by the hand; although they are sensible, that in so doing, they give a vogue to that vice, which, of all others, they ought, as Christians, as honest men, as gentlemen, to be ashamed to encourage. Peo

ple indeed will rail at the trickster, and make sport with his character; but this is all: for, in the commerce of the world, his falsehood is so much needed by one, makes him so like another, and his flattery goes down so sweetly with all, that he meets with surprising toleration. That villain must be of the deepest dye, and carry the most glaring brand in his forehead, who cannot make a shift to pass muster pretty well in such an age and country as this What is the world but a stage, where we rarely meet with one, who wears his own face or garb, or is what he appears to be? This indeed might make a mere farce of life, were it not that the plots are serious, and the cheats real; and that there are too many deep and melancholy scenes interwoven with the rest; insomuch that, were a man only to look on, he would find reason to weep with the one philosopher, as well as laugh with the other. It is here, as on other stages, that if we meet with a man who wears no mask nor disguise, he is generally some one of those low creatures, who shares not in the plot, and what passes, but only makes his appearance to sweep the stage, or snuff the candles.

There are some, who allow themselves the use of cunning and deceit, because they see the like in Rebecca, Jacob, and some other persons of high reputation in Scripture. But is every action applauded, that is not reproved, in history? Or, if a good man shall blemish an upright life with one or two ill actions, shall another extort a licence from thence to practise the like himself, all his days?

Others think, because God commanded the Israelites te spoil the Egyptians, and seize the land of Canaan, they may, with impunity, by fraud or oppression, fleece all they deal with. But can they produce the grant, by which God the proprietor of all things, hath made over to them the property in other people's goods? Are they all Israelites? Or are all the rest of the world Egyptians, and Canaanites?

A third sort, observing how St. Paul delivered himself from persecution, by raising a dissention among his enemies, upon declaring himself a Pharisee, and noting the use of such stratagems on some other occasions, take this for a sufficient warrant, to use the basest arts for the vilest purposes. But did not St. Paul tell the truth, when he called himself a Pharisee? And did he say it for any other pur

pose, but to relieve an innocent man from persecution and cruelty? If St. Paul was, on this occasion, as wise as a serpent, was he not also as harmless as a dove? Will this justify the man, who imitates the serpent in things detested by the dove? It was in this manner that the devil tempted our Saviour with Scripture. He who hath found the way to tempt himself by the word of God, needs no devil to teach him dissimulation.

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A man inclinable to deceive those he deals with, would willingly deceive himself into an opinion, that, if God cannot approve of, he will at least wink at, the use of cunning. But he should consider, that as God neither will deceive, nor can be deceived, so he will not suffer himself to be served with deceit. If he did, the devil might be his best servant still. But the case is quite otherwise; for God expressly forbids us to go beyond, or defraud, one another;' he requires that we should do justice,' and 'serve him in spirit, and in truth.' He that would please God, must serve him according to the scheme and principles by which he proposes to govern the world; for such as the master is, such must be the servant. Now God, in the government of the world, hath appointed certain ends, to which he would have us direct ourselves, on all occasions; and certain means, by which he would have us pursue those ends. Of all those ends, there is not one that is not purely good. Of all those means, there is not one that is not strictly just and honest. Of those only will he approve; those only will he bless; for the judge of all the earth will,' not only do right' himself, but see that it be done by his subjects; and, if they will presume to do otherwise, vengeance is his, and he will repay.'

The grand and final end he sets before us, is our own eternal happiness. The only means of arriving at this end, are piety, honesty, and a holy life. To propose any other end, inconsistent with this, as the chief end; or to depend on any other means, of a contrary nature to those, as pointing out a shorter or easier way, is gross folly, is horrible presumption, and must end in eternal ruin.

Can deceit be means of happiness? Surely if it is, there is no God, or he is not good. But if there is a righteous judge, who sees all we think, speak, or do, what terms can hat man expect from him, who keeps his fair side for the