wo? The description of the poet contains something more than mere fancy,-it teems with awful truth.

"Great day of revelation! in the grave

The hypocrite had left his mask; and stood
In naked ugliness. He was a man

Who stole the livery of the court of heaven,
To serve the devil in; in virtue's guise

Devoured the widow's house and orphan's bread;

In holy phrase transacted villanies

That common sinners durst not meddle with.
At sacred feast, he sat among the saints,

And with his guilty hands touched the holiest things.
And none of sin lamented more, or sighed
More deeply, or with graver countenance,
Or longer prayer, wept o'er the dying man,
Whose infant children, at the moment, he
Planned how to rob in sermon style he bought,
And sold, and lied: and salutations made
In Scripture terms; he prayed by quantity
And with his repetitions long and loud,
All knees were weary: with one hand he put
A penny in the urn of poverty,

And with the other took a shilling out.

On charitable lists-those trumps which told

The public ear, who had in secret done

The poor a benefit, and half the alms

They told of, took themselves to keep them sounding—
He blazed his name, more pleased to have it there

Than in the book of life. Seest thou the man!

A serpent with an angel's voice! a grave

With flowers bestrewed! and yet few were deceived.
His virtues being over-done, his face

Too grave, his prayers too long, his charities

Too pompously attended, and his speech
Larded too frequently, and out of time

With serious phraseology—were rents
That in his garments opened in spite of him,
Thro' which the well accustomed eye could see
The rottenness of his heart. None deeper blushed,
As in the all-piercing light he stood exposed,

No longer herding with the holy ones:
Yet still he tried to bring his countenance
To sanctimonious seeming; but, meanwhile,

The shame within, now visible to all,

His purpose baulked; the righteous smiled, and even
Despair itself some signs of laughter gave,

As ineffectually he strove to wipe

His brow, that inward guiltiness defiled.
Detected wretch! of all the reprobates,

None seemed maturer for the flames of hell;

Where still his face, from ancient custom wears

A holy air, which says to all that pass

Him by: I was a hypocrite on earth."

This is vivid and strong language, but it is justified by the word of God. "The way of the wicked is as darkness; they know not at what they stumble." Without guidance, comfort, safety, or peace, the selfish deceiver hurries along till "his feet stumble on the dark mountains," and he sinks in "the blackness of darkness forever." "Evil pursueth sin

ners." Cain, Achan, and myriads like them are witnesses, that the universe has no refuge for guilt, and the delay of centuries does not weaken the certainty of punishment. As sure as the shadow follows the substance, as the avenger of blood pursued the manslayer-"evil shall hunt the violent man to overthrow him." The career of deception at length is ended. The gulf of terrific retribution yawns wide at the detected culprit's feet. He is hurled over the brink, and then

"One long, loud shriek swells on the air,

The thrilling cry of dark despair,
And all is sad and silent there."

CHAPTER XVIII.

FLATTERY;

OR, THE LURKING FOE.

IN Prov. 26: 28, it is said that "a flattering mouth worketh ruin." The nature of flattery, and the ruin it works, will be unfolded in the present discussion. Let us proceed to remark, that flattery is a matter indifferent to none; is most influential where it is least deserved; and is fatally pernicious on all who blindly yield themselves to its control.

In the first place, however much flattery may be denounced, few or no persons are superior to its influence. A cynical charlatan or religious clown may aspire to be thought above the weaknesses of vanity, and of such a reputation he will be most vain at heart; still is he excessively alive to the "ceremonious compliments of praise," and to tell him that he cannot be flattered is to flatter him most effectually. Glenalvon understood this when he exclaimed,

Shrewd adventurers, in order to obtain what they desire, speak what they do not believe, and the basest flattery often obtains what substantial merit and sound reason would never procure. A member of the Grammont family one day found

cardinal Richelieu employed in jumping, and, with all the cunning flattery of a Frenchman and a courtier, offered to jump against him. He suffered the man of political power to jump higher, and soon after found himself rewarded with a lucrative office.

"The firmest purpose of a human heart,

To well-tim'd, artful flattery may yield."

Many specious maxims have obtained general credence in the world which are in reality false. Among these is the saying that "old birds are not to be caught with chaff." Whereas the fact often is that, "The older the bird, the more he flatters himself that he is worth catching. He is easily caught, were it worth while; but you have caught nothing, perhaps, when you have got him. Chaff is too valuable, too precious, to be expended wastefully; and because you are not so silly as to throw powder away, he conceives himself to be shot-proof. As nobody tries to catch him, he fondly persuades himself that his own exceeding cunning secures him from capture. 'Take me if you can,' chirps he; and goes dodging about the woods, as though a flock of golden vultures were pursuing him. He is quite safe. He has not the felicity of being in peril. The young condor, pressed even by vulgar appetite, will not do him the honor of dining upon him. His toughness and antiquity are sure safeguards. He is only not captured, because there is nothing captivating about him. But if, by any chance, he hath a tail-feather fit for plucking, or a bone worthy the distinction of being picked, then is your old bird in imminent danger, for you may catch him when you like with half a pinch of chaff. The tender foxling, not arrived at the maturity of slyness, who never tasted chicken of his own stealing, shall take him without a ruffle of his plumage-only by pronouncing its dingy brown to be rich crimson.

"What flocks of old birds flutter about in society, all sure that they never shall be caged, and all safe until a lure is laid

for them! But the longer they live, the less chance have they of avoiding the trap. The older they grow, the slenderer the means of escape. The starched matron is fain to put faith in the compliment which, in her day of youth and grace, she knew to be nonsense. She is now only half-handsome, and can no longer afford to think her eyes less brilliant than she is told they are. She must make up, by exaggerating what is left, for the loss of what is gone. She is not now in a condition to call a fine remark rank flattery; she is obliged to believe in self-defence. If her mirror will not admit of this, she has other resources; she has sage counsel, admirable judgment, perfect knowledge of the world. Admire these, and with a dignity which you call Siddonian, she confesses that she is yours. You have only to convert the compliment to her beauty at twenty, into a tribute to her sagacity at fifty-five. Tell her she is not to be imposed upon, and you impose upon her effectually. Admire her penetration, and you will not find her impenetrable.”

"Would some god the giftie gie us

To see ourselves as others see us."

Says Solomon," As the fining-pot for silver, and the furnace for gold; so is a man to his praise." Fulsome adulation is a severer trial to the strength of principle than reproach. The strongest test to a man, the most searching furnace for his heart, is flattery. "If he is vain and light," says bishop Hall, "he will be puffed up with it. If he be wise and solid, he will be no whit moved therewith." The universal influence of adulation, the baseness of its motives, and the worthlessness of its objects ordinarily, are well set forth in the following sketch by Cowper.

"Man praises man. The rabble all alive,

From tippling benches, cellars, stalls, and sties,
Swarm in the streets. The statesman of the day,