eye to be plucked out, and a right hand to be cut off, and it matters not what we lose, or how loath we are to lose it. The way of life may not be unlawful in itself, nor reckoned so; yet if it have certain temptations to dishonesty, and if we, from habit, education, or any other reason, cannot withstand them, nothing remains but to get free from them, and betake ourselves to a course of life, if not so beneficial, more innocent and safe.

Or, secondly, it may happen that the situation we are placed in exposes us too much to the vices of drunkenness or debauchery; that is, affords temptations and opportunities, more than, with our propensities to those vices, we can withstand, or actually do withstand. The same rule obtains in this case as in the last; that is, we must not attempt to set up these temptations, or the violence of them, as an excuse for our compliance, so long as we had it in our power to get out of the way of such temptations. It is to be feared that many, instead of avoiding or abandoning a situation for the reasons mentioned, on the contrary seek and court such on this very account, in order to find the gratification which their vices and follies present to them: so opposite is the practice of mankind and their duty.

Another thing, which it is oftentimes necessary to give up on this ground, and what is given up with more pain and unwillingness than almost any thing, is company, and sometimes friendships. We do not choose our companions or friends always for their virtues; nor, to say the truth, are men always agreeable in proportion to their virtues: so that it shall happen, that a very licentious unprincipled person may have found such means to delight and entertain us, to insinuate himself

into our affections, that we may perceive very great pleasure in his society. Now admitting it possible, that a man may preserve his own virtue uncorrupted by a course of intimacy with a profligate companion, it is but barely possible. This is what we remember St. Paul says, "Evil communications corrupt good manners. Be not deceived." Let friends, or gay associates, cry aloud; Eat and drink while we have life, for to-morrow we die: make use then of the time; for after we are dead, there is no more room for enjoyment-we become as we had never been born. Yet, says the Apostle, "Be not deceived." So here, whatever resolutions we may make, there are many unguarded seasons in a course of intimacy, when your friend will of course endeavour to bring you into some way of thinking and acting with himself; and you will find your horror and fear of vice decline and wear off by degrees, when it is made familiar to you in the example and conversation of your friend. friend. Now if this be the case, and we shall find it so in fact, however we may reason about it, there seems to be nothing left for a man who pays a proper attention to his virtue, and to our rule in the text, but to renounce and break off all such acquaintance absolutely. This is hard and difficult, we say; but be it recollected, that Christ knew it to be so; for he takes his examples from things the most painful and severe. This instance, it is true, requires more than ordinary resolution, for we may have the censure of the world, as well as our own inclination to struggle with. But I can only say that they both are to be set at nought, when our duty and the salvation of our souls are at stake.

But we proceed to consider the reason our Saviour gives for this command. "It is profitable for t1

that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell."

Every sound plan of religion, and consequently the plan of the Gospel, is only putting men in the best way of promoting their own happiness, and providing for their own interest. It is on our own account, for our own sakes, after all, that we are bound to perform the laws of our religion, because ourselves only will be the sufferers by the violation of them. For the present, possibly, we may have to undergo some mortification, or pain, or self-denial; and yet it is our real pleasure and happiness, upon the whole, that is aimed at by the prohibition. As we are obliged and willing to take a very bitter medicine, or suffer a very painful operation, not for the sake of tormenting ourselves for the present, but in order to amend our health for the future; so is the case with every thing we suffer, or every thing we give up on the score of religion: that is, it is with a view of being bettered and benefited by it at the conclusion. If we give up father, mother, and brother, and sister; or, as this expression further denotes, riches, and honour, and pleasures, and diversions, or any thing else we take delight in, it is to receive tenfold reward, and in the world to come life everlasting. The severest trials we are put upon, if we are to cut off our right hand or pluck out our right eye, (such is the instance before us,) it is that our whole body may not be cast into hell; it is to escape those punishments which will be, beyond all comparison, more grievous to be borne, than any thing we ever experienced. Certainly we are not, and possibly we could not have been made acquainted with the particular kind or state of happiness we are to enjoy, or the punishment we are to undergo, in the next world; but we may be sure it is in God's power to make them

both such as will far exceed any thing we can get or lose in this world, any pleasure that sin can give N, ETT paint that virtue costs us. This much is intimated, or rather plainly declared, by the words of the text, that what we shall suffer hereafter for our sins is as much beyond any thing we can suffer here by giving them up, as the destruction of the whole body is beyond the loss of a single limb. And then, surely, our Sevier had a right to charge us to suffer the one rather than suffer the other.

It is to be lamented that men cannot be bengis to understand, that they are to act in the business of their religion only upon the same principles and grounds that they act upon in their own common concerns and tranS actions. A situation or pursuit, however please or delightful at present, if we foresaw that is would lead to nothing but ruin and disgrace, we should qui nost certainly in common prudence. In like manner, if we had made any advantages for the present, thongi ap parently considerable; and if we observed that they were very uncertain advantages which the next der F even hour might take away, I suppose that we end prefer a smaller, but more regular return, vien nga be trusted to always. Now it is but this, and no more than this, that we are required to do by Chris's com mand. Sin, be it ever so pleasurable or ever fitable, must not be long; its pleasures and its provins must end with our lives, generally me somer: bie who shall count, who shall say what or when will i the end of the misery it brings us t? If we gain the whole world and lose our own LA, JUL NET P ber who it is that hath said it prose writing or rather, be it said, none, ever went frugt r their religion than St. Paul; yet be sold by

pr

had every reason to know, "that his sufferings were not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed:" all the struggles, all the self-denial, all the pains we go through to preserve our virtue, will meet with, we may be assured, a proportionable reward, a far more exceeding weight of glory.

Upon the whole, then-to sum up the doctrine of the discourse, if there be nothing in our business, condition, or manner of life, which tempts us to practise deceit, injustice, or any thing which we cannot reconcile to our consciences; if it does not breed in us pride, covetousness, desire of worldly wealth, and the contempt of every thing beside; if there be nothing in our way of life, company, or pleasures, which leads to drunkenness, revelling, or excess of any kind, we may think ourselves very happy, and have cause to be thankful. If there be any such occasions or temptations more than we can withstand, or in fact do withstand, it is the command of our Saviour-and the express command which none can alter-that we fly from them though it oblige us to suffer as much as the loss of a right hand or eye; though we give up an advantage ever so great, or part with a pleasure we are ever so fond of.