forerunners of their end, and the very presages of death. Faith again without works is like a bird without wings; who, though she may hop with her companions here upon earth, yet if she lives till the world's end, she will hardly ever fly to heaven, because she wants her feathers. But when both are joined together, then does the soul mount to the hill of eternal rest. These conjoined can bravely raise her to her highest zenith, and by a noble elevation fix her there for ever, taking away both the will that did betray her, and the possibility that might. The former, without the latter, is selfcozenage; the last, without the former, is mere hypocrisy; together, the excellency of religion. Faith is the rock, while every good action is as a stone laid. One is the foundation, the other is the structure. The foundation without the walls is of slender value. The building without the basis cannot stand. They are so inseparable, as their conjunction makes them good. Whosoever does believe in God aright, believes him to be a rewarder of good; a God that requires what is just and equal, that loves to magnify himself in his mercy, in his doing good to his creatures, and in his infinite and unbounded beneficence; and that he is a punisher of evil, a detester of in justice, yet one that delights not in afflicting to their torment the works of his hands. Therefore, such as would persuade us these believe, and practise the contrary of these, they are Christians of such a new edition as nothing of them can be found in Scripture or antiquity. They are but infidel Christians, whose faith and works are at war against each other. Faith that is right, can no more forbear good works, than can the sun to shed abroad his glorious beams, or a body of perfumes to disperse a grateful odor. Works may be without faith; they may rise from other ends; and it is no news to see hypocrisy decking herself with the fringes and purls of the truest religion. But faith will not be satisfied, if she have not works attending her. A solifidian Christian is a nullifidian Pagan, and confutes his tongue with his hand. I will first labor for a good foundation, saving faith; and equally will I seek for strong walls,-good works. For as man judgeth the house by the edifice, more than by the foundation; so not according to his faith, but according to his works, shall God judge man. Nor is it unworthy of our observation, that when Saint James parallels faith and works to the body and soul, he compares faith but to the body, while works he likens to the soul, that gives it motion, life, and animation. I shall forbear to make the inference, but leave it to the reader's sober consideration. See James ii. 26. THE VIRTUOUS MAN IS A WONDER. If it were true when David lived, "There is none that doeth good, no, not one," how can it be less in these times, when the long series of practice hath heightened and habituated man in vice, beyond that of past ages? The virtuous man, therefore, doubtless, must be a wonder. That fire is of an unusual composure, that is made to burn in water; and so must his temper be, that can hold his heat and brightness, compassed with corruption's waves, and courted by those temptations every where, that, like the ambient air, encircle him. I see men wicked, it is no marvel at all. Bate a man education, and it is natural for him to be so. Folly is bound up with the life of a child. And since vice is a declination, surely man is born to ill, as heavy things sink downward. And then how much easier is it falling down the hill, than climbing it. When the handsome courtesan, Theodata, vaunted to Soc rates, how much she was to be esteemed before him, because she could gain many proselytes from him, but he none at all from her, he replied, it was no wonder; for she led men down the easy and descending road of vice, while he compelled them to the thorny and ascentive path of virtue. They that are tided down the stream of looseness, have much the advantage of those that follow goodness. Virtue dwells at the head of the river, to which we cannot get but by rowing against the cur rent. Besides those inclinations that sway the soul to ill, the way is broader, and more strewed with gilded pleasures. He that walks through a large field, hath only a narrow path to guide him right in the way. But on either side what a wide room hath he to wander in. What latitude can bound a profane wit, or a lascivious fancy? The loose tongue lets fly at all, while the sober David sets a watch at his lips, and examines all his language ere it passes. Every virtue hath two vices, that close her up in curious limits; and if she swerve, though never so little, she suddenly steps into error. Life is a passage betwixt Scylla and Charybdis; missing the channel, our bark is presently sucked into shipwreck. Religion hath superstition and profaneness. Fortitude hath fear and rash ness; liberality, avarice and prodigality; justice, rigor and partiality; and so the like in others; which have made some to define virtue to be nothing else but a mean between two extremes. It The truth is, the track of virtue is a nice way; it is walking upon an edge; and were there not a star within that guides and shoots its rays of comfort, nature would hardly take the pains to be virtuous. Virtue is a war, wherein a man must be perpetual sentinel. is an obelisk, that requires many trophies to the erecting it; and, though founded in the earth, man, his spire does reach to heaven. Like the palm-tree, though it hath pleasant fruit, it is hard to come by, for the stem is not easy to climb. "Vir bonus, cito nec fieri potest, nec intelligi; nam ille fortasse, tanquam Phoenix, anno quingentesimo nascitur." A good man is neither quickly made, nor easily understood; for like the Phoenix, he by accident is born, but one in five hundred years. And this was Seneca's opinion; to which, not unsuitable, is that of Ausonius: "Judex ipse sui, totum se explorat ad unguem; Eid. 16. |