any considerable share of his youth under the unhappy influence of unsound principles, or bad examples, his brutal part, having been suffered to correspond too freely and too closely with sensual allurements, soon overpowers the rational, and gives him either a worldly or voluptuous turn of thinking. In this disposition of mind, he now and then ventures on vicious practices, intemperance, lying, lewdness; and still, as conscience and shame give way, proceeds with greater boldness to more frequent and grosser acts of the kind. If his reason, roused by the immediate mischiefs of vice, or some fears of futurity, now and then remonstrates against such practices, it is easily overborne by the violence of appetite and passion in such a one, whose heart goes before his head, and hath already got the start and mastery within him. But these checks of reason, conscience, or shame, which never wrought on him with any considerable strength, giving him pain, and vice pleasure, the spiritual part of his nature grows still weaker, and the brutal stronger, till the habit of sin rivets all his vices in the very soul of him, and renders them inveterate.

In the mean time, if the influence of conscience, or regard to character, continue to give him some uneasiness, he never once considers either as an instrument of reformation, but as a clog to his pursuits; and therefore, instead of setting himself to consult with either, he only seeks a remedy against both. To cure himself of his conscience, he looks out for loose principles, and quickly finds, that all religion is priestcraft and imposition; for, as hath been already observed, his brutish heart goes foremost in all things, and forces his head to follow. By this management his very reason is debauched, and the angel within him falling, is no less brutalized than the grosser half of his composition. Regard to his character, which in him is nothing more than regard to his schemes of pleasure and interest, which cannot proceed without some character, gives him a good deal more trouble than his conscience; for whereas his conscience lies altogether at the mercy of his own discretion, his character depends as much on the opinions and tongues of others. His only relief, in this case, is to be drawn from deceit and artifice, wherewith he takes care to stock himself, as fast as he can, according to the utmost extent of that

understanding God hath given him for higher and better purposes. Here also the angel is enslaved to the brute, and he is rational only in order to be wicked. If pleasure is his turn, dressing, drinking, wenching, swallow up all his time and fortune, and lead him such a dance, through a sink of filth and pollution, as is too gross for the taste of a swine. If avarice or ambition lays hold on him, he puts himself under the tuition of the old serpent, and, by a mixture of deceit, which is no way akin to right reason, or true wisdom, and of cruelty, which hath no tincture of bravery, he does more mischief among mankind in one year, than all the wild beasts of the world during twenty.

In the last stage of a mind, thus wholly abandoned to brutality, no beast can think or act with less regard to reason, with less sense of conscience, or shame, or pity, than such a monster. He falls from so great a height, who falls from the nature of a man to that of a beast, that he cannot stop even at brutality, but is hurried still downward, till he can hardly be distinguished from his tempter; so that, from being only a little lower than the angels,' he is now but a very little higher than the devils.

It is now time to turn our eyes from a set of wretches, who do not only shock us with the sight of reason in ruins, as is the case when we see a madman or a fool, but, what is infinitely worse, with the mind of a brute and a devil in the mask of a man, to the refreshing view of a human creature rising, through the improvement of his angelic nature, towards a higher order of beings, till that which was sown in corruption, is raised in incorruption; till that which was sown in dishonour, is raised in glory; till that which was sown in weakness, is raised in power.' These are the men, who, in respect to the great change whereof the nature of man is capable, are found in the third state, namely, of such as make a more or less speedy progress, through piety and virtue, to the nature of angels.

We are told by our blessed Saviour, that, in the resurrection we shall be as the angels of God in heaven;' that is, holy, happy, and crowned with unspeakable glory. But, if we do not resemble them in goodness here, in this state of trial and preparation, we cannot hope to rise hereafter to a participation of their dignity. The angels always behold

the face of God;' but without holiness, no man shall see the Lord.' The men I am speaking of, having laid this to heart, do all they can, during their whole lives,' to perfect holiness in the fear of God.' Like the angels in heaven, 'they have set the Lord always before them,' both as their master, in whose sight and presence they are to perform the task assigned them; and as their pattern, to which their whole lives, as far as human infirmity will permit, are to be conformed.

Degenerate as the times are, we here and there see a man of this sort, whom, were we to consider him in the mean of his actions, and not in his outward figure, or in his accidental slips, we should take to be an angel, rather than a man. If we compare the purity and holiness of his life with those of angels, or with the corruptions of other men, we shall perceive a much greater resemblance in him to the former than to the latter. If we consider the fervour of his devotions, we shall find him, agreeably to the image given in Scripture of God's 'ministering spirits, a flame of fire,' of fire so bright, so pure, so hallowed, and of a tendency upward to the fountain and object of love so warm and strong, as raises him, in spite of the flesh and blood that yet hang about him, to a fellowship in piety with angels and seraphim. If we consider him in the truth of all he says, in the integrity of all he does, in the zeal and activity wherewith he serves his Master, in his beneficence to all men, in his compassion for the miserable, and in his good offices even to such as have injured him in his fortune, his character, and his person, we shall have too much modesty to rank him with ourselves; we shall pronounce him a ministering spirit,' an angel.

It will be worth our while, who look up to him from a state, in comparison of his, so low and abject, to inquire by what steps he rose to so great a height. So far as his happy progress depended on his own endeavours, he began with a fair and close examination into the difference between good and ill principles, and their effects; between good and ill practices, and their consequences; and having, on a full conviction of his judgment, chosen the former, he put himself under the government of his angelic part, or his understanding. But, finding the brutal part, or his fleshly nature, utterly averse to such a government, he did not stay to con

sult with flesh and blood, but had recourse immediately to watching, mortification, and prayer. By a resolute perseverance in these, the brute within him was bridled, and the angel began to gain ground. When at any time he stumbled, and fell back from his course, the remorses of a David, and the tears of a Magdalen, brought him up again to a higher and firmer station, than that from whence he fell. Thus he grappled with himself, and fought with his enemy, till the hand of God and habit gained him a complete victory, and gave him the entire command over the inferior part of his composition. From this time, he saw the world far beneath him, and its pomps, its vanities, its profits, its pleasures, sunk and diminished to a minuteness, that left them but a very small share of his esteem; while God and virtue took up all his attention, filled his imagination, and inspired him with a noble ambition of rising in the scale of being, a step nearer to the source of all perfection. In this blessed state of mind, he found, with infinite delight, all his affections and passions, not only under absolute subjection, but so spiritualized, and pointed upward, that they served only to give warmth to his devotions, and to carry his heart, with all their strength, to God.

Such is the nature of this angel in human shape; and his carriage is conformable to his nature; for being, in the first place, innocent, and void of offence towards God, and towards man ;' and, in the next place, giving up his soul and affections to God, he divides his time between the delightful ardours of piety and prayer on the one hand, and acts of goodness and charity on the other. What he solicits God to be to him, as far as his limited ability extends, he thinks himself obliged to be to others. What he tastes from the fountain of good, whether it be in spiritual or temporal blessings, he scatters with an unsparing hand among his fellow creatures. He is the canal of God's goodness to man, which as it passes through him, enriches its banks with flowers of a heavenly hue, and fruits of a most exalted taste. He is the almoner of divine charity, and is paid his salary in blessings both from the giver and receiver. In prosperity, he is the refuge of the helpless, the protection of the oppressed, the treasurer of God, frugal in his own expenses, and faithful in the disbursements of his master. In

adversity and persecution, he is a rock too high for fear to reach him, too firm and solid for the cruelties of men, or the batteries of fortune, to shake him. Take him in what light you will, he does honour, not only to his own understanding and resolution, but to his religion and human nature. In a word, he wants nothing but death to make him an angel.

Having thus briefly considered the three different states, in respect to improvement and degeneracy, in one or other of which every man must be found, it is now our business carefully to examine which of them is our own, that we may have recourse to the resolutions and measures, which the situation we are in shall render necessary.

If any man finds himself wavering between virtue and vice, sometimes rising, in purity and goodness, towards a higher, and sometimes sinking, in corruption and sin, towards a lower nature than his own, he is no longer to trust himself to a state so dangerous and uncertain; but to consider, that he must quickly and unavoidably enter fully into the one course, or the other; to compare the widely different ends of each, and immediately fix his choice, before temptation and habit do it for him; and then to put on resolutions suitable to the progress he chooses, and to the dignity of a free and rational creature.

If he finds his heart already engaged in a progress downward to brutality, he is lost to himself, if he does not immediately use his utmost endeavour to rouse his mind to a sharp conflict with his corruptions. He should labour to bring himself back to that struggle he felt within him, between the angel and the brute, before he fell, which, as a fever does to the body, hath weakened his mind, and left his virtue a dying, so that he hath no other resource, but in the violence of his former disorder; which disorder, as it is, must be the first step to his cure. To reduce him to this, the grace of God, and all his own resolution, will be little enough. But, how he may awaken his stupid mind to a proper resolution, unless by considering, that the course he is in will soon confirm him a brute and a devil, is more than I can tell.

But, in case he finds reason to think he is rising, through piety and purity of heart, towards the angelic nature, he stands in little need of our advice. The joy and exultation