Youths, then, are in the sight of GOD thus in danger from evil companions. To this congregation, so generally composed of such as are young, these considerations come home with supreme energy; and by every youth present, ought to be regarded as of all possible importance.

In these discourses you have heard the dangers of evil company briefly explained, and the miserable consequences of frequenting the retreats where they are found. By the mouth of God himself, you have been taught, that The companion of fools shall be destroyed. He is the best of all friends; the wisest, the most sincere, the most affectionate, the most faithful. With infinite tenderness he loves your souls, and seeks your eternal well-being. Prompted by his unlimited benevolence, and to promote this inestimable object, he wrote for you the salutary, the indispensable, admonition in the text. He cannot but know, he cannot but declare, that, and that only, which is true. His omniscient eye, glancing at once with an intuitive survey over all the nations of the earth, and discerning the nature of all human conduct, saw with perfect certainty the tendency of frequenting evil company; its malignant influence; and its dreadful consequences. To warn and to save you, he has caused this affecting declaration to be written in the Scriptures of truth; and to be brought out this day, in his holy place for your instruction and safety. Hear his voice, I beseech you; and, while you hear, obey.

To this awful voice Experience joins her suffrage; and Reason, hers. All mankind, who have spoken on this subject, have spoken only in the same manner. The danger, the ruin, of evil companions have engaged the attention of thinking men in every country, and in every age. "Evil communications," said a Heathen poet and philosopher, "corrupt good manners." "Evil communications corrupt good manners," says the eternal God; condescending for wise reasons to adopt this just and interesting declaration into the Canon of his word; with an especial design, perhaps, to show how perfectly accordant the dictates of sober experience and rectified reason are with his own truth.

Can a truth so uttered, so evidenced, fail of being embraced by you? Can you hesitate for a moment to shun a danger so great, an evil so pernicious? Why would you shun a viper? You reply, "because his bite is poisonous and fatal." A sinful companion is infinitely more venomous and deadly. Why would you avoid a precipice? "Because," you answer, " a single heedless step might hurry me to destruction." To a destruction more sure, as being less dreaded, and infinitely more complete, you will be hurried by evil companions. Fly them, therefore, with more anxiety, than you would fly from a viper. Tremble, whenever you approach them, with more dread than you experience, when you approach a precipice. These enemies can destroy your bodies only: those will destroy your souls. Flee from them, therefore, not as you would flee from a temporal enemy, but as you would flee from perdition, and escape from hell. To hell, to perdition, evil companions, if you leave them not, will soon conduct you.

Let me especially warn you of a danger from this source, of which nothing, hitherto said in these discourses, will make you aware, and which, nevertheless, you ought peculiarly to dread. The persons, who will become your first tempters, will very imperfectly sustain the character which I have given of evil companions. Generally, they will be like yourselves; so far, at least, as you will perceive; will sustain a fair reputation; will be free from any gross faults; and will intend, perhaps as little as yourselves, to accomplish any part of this work of temptation and ruin. They will only love pleasure, better than business; and sin, better than duty; as you, possibly, may do even more than they. From such persons you will apprehend no evil; and they probably will intend none. Perhaps they may have more to apprehend from you, than you from them. But, wherever this character exists, all, in whom it is found, are in danger; and that the more, because the danger is wholly unsuspected. The beginnings of sin are peculiarly to be dreaded, because the evil is then unseen; and peculiarly to be watched, because it may be easily and certainly avoided. The first thing, commonly done in this case, is to neglect the proper studies of the day; and yield it up,

or a part of it to idleness, sport, and useless conversation. Even this is ordinarily done, at first, with some sincere intentions not to do it again. But the interview is too pleasant, not to be repeated; and at every repetition becomes more pleasant. At every repetition, also, the resolutions of not repeating it again become weaker; till they cease to be formed at all: and the disposition to study declines, till it finally vanishes. Idleness, amusement and dissipation, have now taken possession of the mind; and by insensible degrees established their dominion. The twinges of conscience have become less and less painful, and more and more easily resisted. The reproofs of parents and instructors, having been sustained a few times, become more easily sustained. Excuses, in the mean time, are so often necessary, and so often devised, that the mind becomes ingenious and hackneyed in the business of devising them; and, although often suspected, have been so frequently admitted, that they are considered as a sufficient source of safety in future difficulties and dangers. The loss of reputation, in the mean time, is so gradual, as at no particular period to awaken any serious pain; or to excite even a distant apprehension that it may ever be finally lost. In this manner such companions proceed, and have always proceeded, from idleness, trifling conversation, a waste of time, the abuse of talents, and the sacrifice of privileges, to obscenity; gaming; profaneness; a general course of irreligion; a general desertion of their proper business, and duty; frequently, to excessive drinking; always, to the ruin of their character; and, almost always, to the ruin of their souls.

The commencement of this course is, therefore, the thing, which is to be peculiarly shunned by the youths in this house. Their danger chiefly lies where they apprehend no danger. Their ruin commences, where they feel themselves safe. Neither intends to corrupt, nor to be corrupted; yet both, yet all, are corrupted, and corruptors. Dread, therefore, the first approaches of idleness; of keeping company with the idle; of losing the hours of study; of trifling, and dissipation; as a gulf to which there is no bottom, and out of which, if you fall, you will never rise again.

Almost every youth, who has been ruined in this seminary, within my knowledge, has been ruined in this manner. I speak not of those, who were ruined at home; who entered these walls, tainted with vice; and, spreading their infection through the better and healthier minds of those around them, became nuisances to the institution; a blast to the hopes of parents; and a curse to their children. These persons have at times brought with them, in different gradations, the character, the arts and the corruptions, mentioned in the preceding discourse ; and, settling here in unsuspected silence, blighted the harvest of worth, apparently advancing towards full maturity. I speak of such youths, as have come hither with no peculiar corruption; with a reputable freedom from vice; with fair hopes; and with honourable designs. Of these, some have found, here, means and motives, which have operated to their ruin. But probably not more than one, in one hundred of those who have been destroyed, has accomplished the destruction for himself. Left to themselves, unsolicited and unseduced by others, the ninety-nine would, at their return home, have in all probability become the joy of their parents, and blessings to mankind. But here, where so many youths assemble, and where some of course will be of a vicious character, they became the prey of evil companions; and of the sophistry, the arts, and the tricks, which I have described. Let it be remembered, that I have been almost thirty years a resident in this seminary; that I entered it, when a child; and that I continued in it without interruption twelve years; and that a great part of the modes of corruption, mentioned in these discourses, I have personally seen and heard. Nay, not a small number of them have been practised upon me. I can, therefore, speak with certainty, as well as with strong feelings, on this subject. Every one of you may rest assured, that I have not mistaken the case, nor any part of it; and that the representation, which I have made, is exactly true, as well as infinitely important.

Shun therefore, every one of you, this course of danger and mischief. Especially shun, because you are in peculiar danger from them, and because resistance here will usually prove a final victory, the first approaches of temptation; the first appearances

of sin; the first obtrusions of evil companions; the first sacrifice of your own time; the first neglect of your daily studies; the first solicitations to any improper conduct; and the civilities, flatteries and persuasion, with, which they will be attended. Keep your hours of study sacred to yourselves and with invincible firmness preclude every stranger from intruding upon you in those hours, which God has made sacred.

Should you be solicited to visit the haunts of sinful pleasure; of gaming, profaneness, drinking, and obscenity; consider the solicitor as the enemy of your peace; who, if not decisively resisted, will rob you of your reputation, blast your hopes of improvement, wound your conscience, pollute your souls, and shut you out of heaven. With persons of this character keep no terms. Their company is baleful: their solicitations are the poison of asps and every accommodation with them, is only a compromise for your destruction.

4thly. How anxiously ought parents to prevent their children from frequenting evil company!

Parents are guardians of their children, appointed by GoD himself. The trust is supremely solemn and important; and the thing entrusted of pre-eminent value. What earthly object is more precious than children? How willingly, how patiently, how perseveringly, with what unbroken, unwearied affection, care and anxiety, do parents labour to promote the safety and prosperity of their beloved offspring? How cheerfully do they give up their own gratifications, and sacrifice their ease, convenience and comfort? What does all this prove? Their intense love to this favourite object. For what is all this done and suffered? That the well-being of their children may be secured.

But, if this be the great end, aimed at in all these exertions; they ought certainly to be directed to their true well-being, their everlasting good. To provide for them the pleasures of this world; to gratify their pride, avarice and sensuality; to heap up for them enjoyments, which at the end of an idle, empty, momentary life will vanish forever; and to make no efforts for their endless happiness in the future world; to take such vast pains to