When the Jews, in a fit of ignorant zeal, were taking up stones to cast at our blessed Lord, he said to them: Many GOOD WORKS have I shewed you from my Father; for which of THESE works do ye stone mee? Intimating, that the resentment of a misjudging multitude is generally occasioned by praise-worthy actions. On the same principle, when shouts of popular applause are sounding in a man's ears, he may reasonably ask, For which of my EVIL DEEDS is this praise wasted upon me? For it is just as much to be expected that a clamorous praise should attend a bad action, as that a clamorous rage should be excited by a good one.

And if we look abroad into the world, we shall find, that it is not virtue, in whatever degree, but some popular vice, that too oft engages its warmest approbation. In fact, even a moderate share of virtue, joined to an inoffensive character, shall more frequently secure a man from the censure, than procure him the applause of mankind. To be generally well spoken of, he must do more than not offend: he must merit his reward, before it is conferred upon him. And, though illustrious services. may sometimes extort this reward, yet the

e John x. 32.

surer and easier way to obtain it, is to please. And when I am to please all men, in order to obtain the suffrage of all, tell me what way there is of executing this project, without dishonouring myself. Men are not pleased, unless I humour their foibles, sooth their vices, serve their ill ends, or unjustifiable passions; and woe unto me, if I acquire their good opinion by these

means.

But suppose I am restrained by some sense of decency and of duty, and not disposed to run all lengths in my endeavours to please. Still it is not nothing, to be silent where virtue bids me speak; it is something, to give a man leave to think he is honoured by me for that which deserves blame; it is base, to flatter and extoll immoderately even his good qualities; and it is flagitious to countenance. and inflame his bad ones.

Yet one or other of these ways must he take, who is ambitious of every man's good word. And is there no woe, think ye, in such a conduct as this? Suppose I but sacrifice one virtue to my reputation, but one generous quality to my passion for fame; still am I innocent in making this sacrifice? Can I applaud myself

for making thus free with my moral character? Or, rather, have I not cause to humble myself under a sense of my ill-desert?

any

Yes, woe to that man, who, to be well with the world, or with any part of it, deserts, one virtuous principle, transgresses any one known duty, corrupts his conscience with any one deliberate vice. Let the world's applause be what it will; he is a loser who gains it on such terms.

But I am still putting matters at the best; For,

III. Lastly, this general acceptation, this mighty privilege of being well spoken of by all men, sometimes, and not unfrequently, demands a sacrifice, not of one, but all the virtues : it implies a thorough deprAVITY AND

PROSTITUTION OF THE MORAL CHARACTER.

Our delicacy will not bear to have this matter pushed home, and brought directly to ourselves. Our self-love revolts against the imputation; and no man applies so severe a censure to his own case, or that of his acquaintance.

Let us

Let us look abroad, then, for what we are willing to shift off so far from us. look for this opprobrious character in ancient times, and distant regions, with which we may take greater liberties, and concerning which we may discourse without offence. And when we have found it, let us only remember that the character is no ideal one; that it is fairly taken from the annals of human nature, and may therefore, in part at least, concern ourselves.

A noble Roman is described by ONE who knew him well, in the following manner: "He possessed, in a wonderful degree, the "faculty of engaging all men to himself, by

every art of address, and the most obsequious "application to their humours, purposes, and "designs. His fortune, his interest, nay his

Illa in illo homine mirabilia fuerunt, comprehendere "multos amicitiâ, tueri obsequio, cum omnibus com"municare quod habebat, servire temporibus suorum " omnium, pecuniâ, gratiâ, labore corporis, scelere etiam, "si opus esset, et audaciâ: versare suam naturam, et "regere ad tempus, atque huc et illuc torquere et flectere: "cum tristibus severè, cum remissis jucunde; cum seni"bus graviter, cum juventute comiter; cum facinorosis. "audacter, cum libidinosis luxuriosè vivere. Hac ille "tam variâ multiplicique naturâ, &c." Cicero pro M. Celio, c. iii.

person, was wholly their's; and he was ready "to shew his attachment to them by every "service, and, if occasion required it, by

66

every crime. He had the most perfect dex

9

terity in moulding his own nature, and shaping it into all forms. The men of *austere morals he could gain to himself, by 46 a well-dissembled severity; the more free "and libertine sort, by an unrestrained gaiety. "He could equally adapt himself to the vivacity of youth, and to the gravity of old

age: with men of bold spirits and factious designs, he was prompt, enterprizing, auda"cious; with the men of pleasure, he could be licentious, luxurious, dissolute."

What think ye, now, of this character? With so various and pliable a disposition, could he fail of being popular? And with so total a want of principle, can we doubt of his being abandoned? He was, in truth, both the one, and the other. He was the favourite, and the pest of his country: in a word, this man was, CATILINE,

But let us turn our thoughts from such prodigy, and conclude only from the instance

Juventus pleraque, sed maximè nobilium, Catilinæ incoeptis favebat. Sallust. c. 17. And again: omnino cuncta plebes, Catilina incoepta probabat. c. 37.