on the undue regard to appearances, which, in every circle of society, lays the foundation of so much distress, and so much dishonesty,-on those sanguine calculations and romantic hopes, which are so fascinating, but often so ruinous,-on that ambitious aspiring to equality with some above you, which not only betrays great mental weakness, but is in danger of encroaching on the demands of moral principle,— on those habits of personal or domestic expenditure which are not, as studiously as is practicable, adjusted by the nature, the regularity, the certainty, and permanency of your resources, and even on those kind and generous sympathies which melt at a tale of distress, whenever they would prompt you to forget the obligations of justice.

The necessity of thus shielding ourselves from the attacks of temptation, is one of the very powerful objections that lie against some fashionable modes of entertainment, one of these, for they are many and equally powerful. There is the waste of time. There is the activity given to many passions that ought to be repressed. There is the total inconsistency of these dissipations with the self-denial and spirituality of the religion of Jesus Christ. There is the distaste for devout exercises and holy pleasures, which they promote. There is the practical rejection of that authority which so solemnly interdicts them. Now it is in addition to these strong reasons against the dissipations that may be in vogue, that we offer the one implied in the view we are now taking of this commandment, and which is, simply, their enormous expensiveness. Enormous, in the fullest sense the word is capable of expressing, it will appear, when you reflect that this expense is either already habitual, or will soon become so; that, in point of fact, it is one which amazingly increases, and which, from instances sufficiently numerous to confute, if not to startle, the indolent objector, we affirm, embarrasses the circumstances of individuals and of families,-undermines, by slow, and some

times by very quick degrees, the principles of honesty which before were cherished, and introduces often a sequel of crimes too dark for language to reveal, and of miseries too tragical for fancy to contemplate.

We might go through the whole range of worldly amusements, assailing them all with the same weapon, branding them all with the same condemnation, confronting them all with the claims of injured tradesmen, and appalling their devotees with spectres of beggared families, the groans of the starving poor, and the frown of that indignant and avenging God, who has superscribed on every farthing of your fortune, "occupy till I come," and who, when he does come, will reckon most exactly with you!

There is one most insinuating amusement, which, when viewed in the light of this commandment, we are not afraid of describing in language too severe : we mean the vice of gaming. When the passion for this amusement has acquired the ascendant, it is on every hand acknowledged to be a curse. But, surely, the passion originates chiefly in the love of money,-in the extravagant indulgence of that very selfishness which this commandment is intended to control. It is easy enough, of course, to ask, smilingly, "Where can be the harm of a friendly game of cards? or in throwing dice? or in the dexterous management of billiards? or in "how many shapes there are of this amusement we are not concerned to show our ignorance or knowledge. But the harm is within yourself. It lies in the principle which gives attraction to them all. What is the difference, we may be allowed to ask, between the gay and delighted card-player, mortified in losing, triumphant in winning, and anxious that the game should leave her richer than it found her; and him who bets most deeply at the horse-race, or him who wastes his sleepless nights amid the orgies of the Palais Royal, in Paris, or him who plunges into

the mysterious temples of the same infatuating divinity in London? The difference, in our account, is certainly not on the principle or the passion itself, but in the force with which the same principle acts,the degree in which the same guilty passion is indulged.

If the pleasures of gaming should, in some instances, arise from sources independent of the selfish love of money, still they cannot be indulged but in defiance of the many other arguments against them, and dissuasives from them, at which we have glanced. As all these pleasures, however, are the perfume, and blossom, and sweetness of the substantial fruits of gaming, he who 'snuffs the perfume,-smiles on the blossom, tastes the sweetness,-is deeply tainted with the poison.

Now it is on the tendency to expensiveness,-on the temptations to immoderate views and desires, expectations and hazards, essential to every variety of gaming, that we found our present charge against this species of amusement. The principle is condemned, as the inordinate desire of money. The passion is condemned, as both the exertion and the stimulus of the principle. In the same individual, the criminality of the passion rises in proportion to his excesses; so that he who lounges his evening at the card-table, in the occasional festivities of the brilliant circle, would, by regular attendance at the gaming-house, and staking serious sums, be contracting higher guilt, because acting more completely under the influence of the same propensity. If the propensity were not corrupt, its complete ascendency could not be criminal; if it is corrupt, its partial ascendency is likewise criminal, though, we confess, in an inferior degree.

Yet it does not follow from this, that the most devoted gamester is, of necessity, more criminal than the party who, were he to present himself among them in their most convivial moments, would start as though a fiend had entered. Why does it not

follow? Because, while there is an unvarying standard for the judgment of every habit and pursuit of men, the relative degrees of guilt, in the comparison of one man with another, are determined by a great complication and variety of circumstances. So that unless you were perfectly acquainted with the exact proportion of constitutional firmness, of good or bad educational influences, of strong or weak susceptibility of conscience, of ignorance or knowledge, of acuteness or dulness in the estimation of consequences, in which the two supposed individuals stand related to each other, how is it possible for you to deny, that the apparently more virtuous is, in the judgment of Him who knoweth all things, the more guilty?

Nothing can be farther from our intention than to confound the distinctions of character by indiscriminate condemnation; and we are persuaded our remarks have no natural tendency to extenuate the evils attending one stage in the progress of this sin, for the purpose of more advantageously exhibiting the evils that beset another. No:-the whole progress is mischievous, from its commencement to its catastrophe.

Think of the dangerous activity of the avaricious principle from which the love of gaming springs,of the frightful passions haunting every chamber of the mind where this has reached the ascendant,-of the fatal consequences alike of failure and success, of the temptations to dishonourable wishes, if not to dishonest artifices, which, like suggestions from an unseen spirit, are speaking such seducing things to the ruffled or aching heart of every gamester. Think of the countenance one kind of gaming gives to a second, the second to a third, and that to every succession in the rapid process; and oh! think, if you can dare to do it, think of the account that must be rendered of your eager selfishness, of the peevishness, anger, and secret hatred, or the cool unfairness of ingenuity, with which you may possibly remember to have

played, of the proud elation or unuttered resolutions with which you may have torn yourself, on some occasions not yet forgotten by you, from the bewitching entertainment,-and of the influence of your example on the young, and the encouragement it affords to the vulgar, whom you despise, and to the vicious, whom you detest.

Finally. The principle of self-love, which leads to the results we have described, must be balanced by counteracting principles: by justice and benevolence.

1. By justice,-leading us to distinguish what is right in our conduct as it affects others, and inclining us to give to every man his due. If we do not expatiate on this topic so fully as on some which have preceded it, it is not because we are insensible of its importance, but because it is so obvious and so generally appreciated by the most selfish of mankind, as to afford no scope for discussion, and to require little illustration,-though, alas! much enforcement. You see, at once, the way in which this principle opposes the aggressions of self-love, and the reason why it must be cultivated in order to oppose them. You need no effort to comprehend the connexion of this principle with the habits of diligence, with the devout submission to the will of Providence, and the moderation of views and enjoyments, to which your attention has been invited in the former portions of the present lecture. If you are not conscientiously just, your diligence differs little from robbery; your professed submission to Providence is a solemn delusion; your boasted moderation a disgusting farce.

You need not be told that civilized society cannot exist without commerce, and that commerce must be founded in confidence between man and man. You need not be told, either, that civilized society cannot exist without laws and government for the preservation of property, as well as of liberty and life; and that the equity of governments and efficacy of laws, especially in a popular and mixed constitution like our own, greatly depend on the rectitude and patriotism of subjects.