established, let us weigh them with the different judgments, which we ourselves form concerning them. The meaning of the maxims, the substance of what we daily hear in the world, and which the writings of libertines have rendered famous, that youth is the season for pleasure, and that we should make the most of it; that fit opportunities should not be let slip, because they so seldom happen, and that not to avail ourselves of them would discover ignorance of one's-self; the substance of this sophism (shall I say of infirmity or impiety?) is not new. If some of you urge this now, so did the Jews in the time of Isaiah. This prophet was ordered to inform them, that they had sinned to the utmost bounds of the patience of God: that there remained only one method of preventing their total ruin, that was fasting, mourning, baldness, and girding with sackcloth, in a word, exercises of lively and genuine repentance. These prophane people, from the very same principle on which the prophet grounded the necessity of their conversion, drew arguments to embolden them in sin; they slew oxen, they killed sheep, they gave themselves up to unbridled intemperance, and they said, Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall die.

This is precisely the maxim of our libertines." Youth is the season for pleasure, and we should improve it; opportunities of enjoyment are rare, we should be enemies to ourselves not to avail ourselves of them. Would not one say, on hearing this language, that an old man going out of the world must needs regret that he did not give himself up to pleasure in his youth? Would not one suppose that the sick, in beds of infirmity and pain must needs reproach themselves for not spending their health and strength in luxury and debauchery? Would not one imagine, that the des

pair of the damned through all eternity will proceed from their recollecting that they checked their passions in this world?

On the contrary, what will poison the years of your old age, should you arrive at it, what will aggravate the pains, and envenom the disquietudes inseparable from old age, will be the abuse you made of your youth.

So in sickness, reproaches and remorse will rise out of a recollection of crimes committed when you was well, and will change your death-bed into an anticipated hell. Then, thou miserable wretch, who makest thy belly thy God, the remembrance of days and nights consumed in drunkenness will aggravate every pain which thine intemperate life hath brought upon thee. Then, thou miserable man, who incessantly renderest an idolatrous worship to thy gold, saying to it in acts of supreme adoration, thou art my confidence; then will the rust of it be a witness against thee, and eat thy flesh, as it were with fire. Then, unhappy man, whose equipages, retinue and palaces are the fruits of oppression and injustice, then the hire of the laborers, which have reaped down thy fields, which is of thee kept back by fraud, will cry, and the cries of the reapers will enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, then the stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber shall answer it. Then, miserable wretch, thou who makest the members of Christ the members of an harlot, then that Drusilla, who now fascinates thine eyes, who seems to thee to unite in her person all manner of accomplishments; that Drusilla, who makes thee forget what thou owest to the world and the church, to thy children, thy family, thy God, and thy soul, that Drusilla will appear to thee as the centre of all horrors; then she, who al

ways appeared to thee as a goddess, will become as dreadful as a fury; then like that abominable man, of whom the holy scriptures speak, who carried his brutality so far as to offer violence to a sister, whose honor ought to have been to him as dear as his own life; then will the hatred wherewith thou hatest her, be greater than the love wherewith thou hadst loved her, 2 Sam. xiii. 15.

The same in regard to the damned, what will give weight to the chains of darkness with which they will be loaded, what will augment the voracity of that worm, which will devour them, and the activity of the flames, which will consume them in a future state, will be the reproaches of their own consciences for the headlong impetuosity of their passions in this world.

My brethren, the best direction we can follow for the establishment of our ways is frequently to set the judgment, which we shall one day form of them, against that which we now form. Let us often think of our death-bed. Let us often realize that terrible moment, which will close time, and open eternity. Let us often put this question to ourselves, What judgment shall I form of that kind of life, which I now lead, when a burning fever consumes my blood, when unsuccessful remedies, when useless cares, when a pale physician, when a weeping family, when all around shall announce to me the approach of death? What should I then think of those continual dissipations, which consume the most of my time; what of those puerile amusements, which take up all my attention; what of these anxious fears, which fill all the capacity of my soul; what of these criminal pleasures, which infatuate me; what judgment shall I make of all these things in that terrible day, when the powers of the heavens shall be shaken, when the founda

tions of the earth shall shake, when the earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, when the elements shall melt with fervent heat, when the great white throne shall appear, when the judge shall sit, and the books be opened, in which all my actions, words, and thoughts are registered?

If we follow these maxims, we shall see all objects with new eyes; we shall tremble at some ways, which we now approve; we shall discover gulphs in the road, in which we walk at present without suspicion of danger.

I said at the beginning, my brethren, and I repeat it again in finishing this exercise, the text we have been explaining includes a volumnious subject, more proper to make the matter of a large treatise than that of a single sermon. The reflections, which we have been making, are only a slight sketch of the maxims, with which the wise man intended to inspire us. All we have said will be entirely useless, unless you enlarge by frequent meditation the narrow bounds in which we have been obliged to include the subject.

Ponder the path of thy feet, and all thy ways shall be established. Who weighs, who calculates, who connects and separates before he believes and judges, before he esteems and acts? The least probability persuades us; the least object that sparkles in our eyes, dazzles us; the least appearance of pleasure excites, fascinates, and fixes us. We determine questions on which our eternal destiny depends, with a levity and precipitancy, which we should be ashamed of in cases of the least importance in temporal affairs. Accordingly the manner in which we act, perfectly agrees with the inattention with which we determine the reason of acting. We generally spend life in a way very unbecoming intelligent beings, to whom God hath given

a power of reflecting, and more like creatures destitute of intelligence, and wholly incapable of reflection.

In order to obey the precept of the wise man, we should collect our thoughts every morning, and never begin a day without a cool examination of the whole business of it. We should recollect ourselves every night, and never finish a day without examining deliberately how we have employed it. Before we go out of our houses each should ask himself, Whither am I going? In what company shall I be? What temptations will assault me? What opportunities of doing good offer to me? When we return to our houses, each should ask himself, Where have I been? What has my conversation in company been? Did I avail myself of every opportunity of doing good?

We brethren, how invincible soever our depravity may appear, how deeply rooted soever it may be, how powerful soever tyrannical habits may be over us, we should make rapid advances in the road of virtue, were we often to enter into ourselves on the contrary, while we act, and determine, and give ourselves up without reflection and examination, it is impossible our conduct should answer our calling.

My brethren, shall I tell you all my heart? This meditation troubles me, it terrifies me, it confounds me. I have been forming the most ardent desires for the success of this discourse: and yet I can hardly entertain a hope that you will relish it. I have been exhorting you with all the power and ardor, of which I am capable, and, if you will forgive me for saying so, with the zeal, which I ought to have for your salvation; I have been exhorting you not to be discouraged at the number and the difficulty of the duties which the wise man pre