cinus! said his landlord, for running out an estate, that was his and his heirs for ever, on a tenure for twenty years! and yet (can you believe it?) he was in another respect, a greater fool than Luscinus was in this; for when he had an eternal tenure of happiness in the next life, he ran it out to improve his wealth, and promote his pleasure, in this, of which he had only a temporary tenure; and this expiring sooner than he expected, landed him a bankrupt in the other world.

Did mankind consider, wherein their true seft-interest consists, or did they know how to balance an eternal, against a temporal interest, we should have a much wiser and honester world to deal with; all sorts of business would not be clogged with such an endless train of tricks and villanies; public affairs might be carried on without jobs, faction, party, and oppression; and the laws might have their due course, without misinterpretation or evasion, did we take our great interest to lie in another world, and to be at the disposal of an infinitely wise and just Being. Instead of grossly prevaricating with each other, almost in every word, we should speak every one truth with his neighbour;' instead of ungratefully forgetting the kindness, or basely abusing the confidence, of a friend, we should be a rock for the one to rest on, and a fruitful soil for the other to sow in; we should not flatter him to his face, whom we rail at behind his back, did we believe that God can see and remember; we should not smile and stab; we should not embrace like Joab, and kiss like Judas, when in our hearts we carry only treachery and murder.

Were eternity uppermost in our thoughts, we should not so often hear God called on to attest a lie; we should not so often see men solemnly subscribing, and declaring, for principles they dispute, preach, and write, against, in order sacrilegiously to seize on that wealth, which was bestowed on the church, to promote the blessed cause of truth and honesty; we should either hear of no controversies about religion, or, at least, should not have the mortification to see them carried on with fulsome cant, and imprudent equivocations; we should not see one church cruelly oppressing, or basely undermining, another; as if God could not support his own cause, without truckling to the devil for as

sistance. Will God finally prosper a religious party, that hath recourse to detestable hypocrisy, like that of Jeroboam, who, under the pretence of conveniency, introduced schism and idolatry; or like that of Herod, who asked the wise men, where Christ was born, that he might go and worship him, when he wanted nothing else but an opportunity to destroy him?

It is a glorious character of a man, that he hath a tongue free from guile, and an heart filled with integrity. What a despicable wretch must that be, who cannot with safety be either believed or trusted? If honesty is the best, because it is the easiest, the safest, and the most honourable, policy; deceit or chicane must be the worst; because it cannot be carried on without a world of cookery and management; because, when all is done, it is still in danger of being detected; and because, if it is, it renders the contriver of it infamous in the eyes of men, who was odious in the eyes of God before.

The properties of deceit ought to make us detest the very notion of it, whenever we find it in others. The first property, by which it distinguishes itself, is, that it can never be employed with success, but for a wicked purpose. This demonstrates a dark and deep malignity, so riveted in its very nature, that to eternity it can never be separated from it, even in thought. Its next property is folly, which also makes an essential part of its nature; but of this enough already. Its third property is cowardice. If a man-had true resolution and bravery, he would never, in the most oppressive distress, stoop to base arts for relief; he would rather die a martyr to honesty. It is only because a man hath not the courage to look oppression or adversity in the face, that he turns his dastardly mind to the author of falsehood for protection. The fourth property of deceit is slavishness. This we may expect to find, where dissimulation and cowardice have laid a foundation for it. A man conscious of deceit in himself, knows he cannot successfully pursue such schemes as his, if he is not prepared to bear a great deal from others. And if he is sensible his falsehood is known to the world, he is then forced to truckle, and take patiently the most contemptuous treatment that can be given him. As he hath no honour, he cannot expect to be used with any ceremony. The hu

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

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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