which are yet uninformed, unprincipled, unfurnished; and ready to receive any impression.

But before we consider the danger of keeping bad company, let us first see the meaning of the phrase.

In the phrase of the world, good company means fashionable people. Their stations in life, not their morals, are considered: and he, who associates with such, though they set him the example of breaking every commandment of the decalogue, is still said to keep good company.-I should wish you to fix another meaning to the expression; and to consider vice in the same detestable light, in whatever company it is found; nay, to consider all company in which it is found, be their station what it will, as bad company.

The three following classes, will perhaps include the greatest part of those who deserve this appellation.

In the first, I should rank all who endeavour to destroy the principles of Christianity-who jest upon Scripture-talk blasphemy and treat revelation with

contempt.

A second class of bad company, are those, who have a tendency to destroy in us the principles of common honesty and integrity. Under this head we may rank gamesters of every denomination; and the low and infamous characters of every profession.

A third class of bad company, and such as are commonly most dangerous to youth, includes the long catalogue of men of pleasure. In whatever way they follow the call of appetite, they have equally a tendency to corrupt the purity of the mind.

Besides these three classes, whom we may call bad company, there are others who come under the denomination of illchosen company: trifling, insipid characters of every kind; who follow no business-are led by no ideas of improvement --but spend their time in dissipation and folly-whose highest praise it is, that they are only not vicious. With none of these, a serious man would wish his son to keep company.

It may be asked what is meant by keeping bad company? The world abounds with characters of this kind: they meet us in every place; and if we keep company at all, it is impossible to avoid keeping company with such persons.

It is true, if we were determined never to have any commerce with bad men, we must, as the apostle remarks, "altogether go out of the world." By keeping bad company, therefore, is not meant a casual intercourse with them, on occasion of business, or as they accidentally fall in our way; but having an inclination to consort with them-complying with that inclinationseeking their company when we might avoid it-entering into their parties-and making them the companions of our choice. Mixing with them occasionally cannot be avoided.

The danger of keeping bad company, arises principally from our aptness to imitate and catch the manners and sentiments of others--from the power of customfrom our own bad inclinations-and from the pains taken by the bad to corrupt us*.

In our earliest youth, the contagion of manners is observable. In the boy, yet incapable of having any thing instilled into him, we easily discover from his first actions, and rude attempts at language, the kind of persons with whom he has been brought up we see the early spring of a civilized education, or the first wild shoots of rusticity.

As he enters farther into life, his behaviour, manners, and conversation, all take their cast from the company he keeps. Observe the peasant, and the man of education; the difference is striking. And yet God hath bestowed equal talents on each. The only difference is, they have been thrown into different scenes of life; and have had commerce with persons of different stations.

Nor are manners and behaviour more easily caught, than opinions and principles. In childhood and youth we naturally adopt the sentiments of those about us. And as we advance in life, how few of us think for ourselves! How many of us are satisfied with taking our opinions at second hand!

The great power and force of custom forms another argument against keeping bad company. However seriously disposed we may be; and however shocked at the first approaches of vice; this shocking appearance goes off upon an intimacy with it. Custom will soon render the most disgustful thing familiar. And this is indeed a kind provision of nature, to render labour, and toil, and danger, which are the lot of man, more easy to him. The raw

See this subject treated more at large in an anonymous pamphlet, on the employment of time.

soldier,

soldier, who trembles at the first encounter, becomes a hardy veteran in a few campaigns. Habit renders danger familiar, and of course indifferent to him.

But habit, which is intended for our good, may, like other kind appointments of nature, be converted into a mischief. The well-disposed youth, entering first into bad company, is shocked at what he hears, and what he sees. The good principles which he had imbibed, ring in his ears an alarming lesson against the wickedness of his companions. But, alas! this sensibility is but of a day's continuance. The text jovial meeting makes the horrid pic ture of yesterday more easily endured. Virtue is soon thought a severe rule; the gospel, an inconvenient restraint: a few pangs of conscience now and then interrupt his pleasures; and whisper to him, that he once had better thoughts: but even these by degrees die away; and he who at first was shocked even at the appearance of vice, is formed by custom into a profligate leader of vicious pleasures perhaps into an abandoned tempter to vice.-So carefully should we oppose the first approaches of sin! so vigilant should we be against so insidious an enemy!

advantages of bad-cautions in forming

intimacies.

These arguments against keeping bad company, will still receive additional strength, if we consider farther, the great pains taken by the bad to corrupt others. It is a very true, but lamentable fact, in the history of human nature, that bad men take more pains to corrupt their own spe cies, than virtuous men do to reform them. Hence those specious arts, that show of friendship, that appearance of disinterestedness, with which the profligate seducer endeavours to lure the unwary youth; and at the same time, yielding to his inclinations, seems to follow rather than to lead him. Many are the arts of these corrupters; but their principal art is ridicule. By this they endeavour to laugh out of countenance all the better principles of their wavering proselyte; and make him think contemptibly of those, whom he formerly respected; by this they stifle the ingenuous blush, and finally destroy

all sense of shame. Their cause is below reasoning. Raillery is the weapon they argument. They aim not therefore at employ; and who is there, that hath the steadiness to hear persons and things, whatever reverence he may have had for them, the subject of continual ridicule, without losing that reverence by degrees?

Having thus considered what principally makes bad company dangerous, I shall just add, that even were your morals in no danger from such intercourse, your characters would infallibly suffer. The world will always judge of you by your companions: and nobody will suppose, that a youth of virtuous principles himself, can possibly form a connexion with a profligate.

Our own bad inclinations form another argument against bad company. We have so many passions and appetites to govern; so many bad propensities of different kinds to watch, that, amidst such a variety of enemies within, we ought at least, to be on our guard against those without. The breast even of a good man is represented in scripture, and experienced in fact, to be in a state of warfare. His vicious inclinations are continually drawing him one way; while his virtue is making efforts another. And if the scriptures represent this as the case even of a good man, whose passions, it may be imagined, are become in some degree cool, and temperate, and who has made some progress in a virtuous course; what may we suppose to be the danger of a raw unexperienced youth, whose passions and appetites are violent and seducing, and whose mind is in a still less confirmed Alas! this security is the very brink of state? It is his part surely to keep out of the precipice: nor hath vice in her whole the way of temptation; and to give his train a more dangerous enemy to you, than bad inclinations as little room as possible presumption. Caution, ever awake to danto acquire new strength. Gilpin. ger, is a guard against it. But security 110. Ridicule one of the chief arts of cor- lays every guard asleep. "Let him who ruption-bad company injures our cha- thinketh he standeth," saith the apostle, racters, as well as manners-presumptake heed, lest he fall." Even an apostion the forerunner of ruin—the advan- tle himself did fall, by thinking that he Lages of good company equal to the dis- stood secure. "Though I should die with

In reply to the danger supposed to arise from bad company, perhaps the youth may say, he is so firm in his own opinions, so steady in his principles, that he thinks himself secure; and need not restrain himself from the most unreserved conversation.

thee,"

thee," said St. Peter to his master, "yet will I not deny thee." That very night, notwithstanding this boasted security, he repeated the crime three several times. And can we suppose that presumption, which occasioned ap apostle's fall, shall not ruin an unexperienced youth? The story is recorded for our instruction; and should be a standing lesson against presuming upon our own strength.

In conclusion, such as the dangers are, which arise from bad company, such are the advantages which accrue from good. We imitate, and catch the manners and sentimen's of good men, as we do of bad. Custom, which renders vice less a defor

mity, renders virtue more lovely. Good examples have a force beyond instruction, and warm us into emulation beyond precept; while the countenance and conversation of virtuous men encourage, and draw out into action every kindred disposition

of our hearts.

Besides, as a sense of shame often prevents our doing a right thing in bad company; it operates in the same way in preventing our doing a wrong one in good. Our character becomes a pledge; and we cannot, without a kind of dishonour, draw back.

It is not possible, indeed. for a youth, yet unfurnished with knowledge (which fits him for good company) to chuse his companions as he pleases. A youth must have something peculiarly attractive, to qualify him for the acquaintance of men of established reputation. What he has to do, is, at ali events to avoid bad company; and to endeavour by improving his mind and morals, to qualify himself for the best.

you ought to be, reserved in offering it. Chuse your companions, not merely for the sake of a few outward accomplishments for the idle pleasure of spending an agreeable hour; but mark their disposition to virtue or vice; and, as much as possible, chuse those for your companions whom you see others respect; always remembering, that upon the choice of your company depends in a great measure the success of all you have learned; the hopes of your friends; your future characters in life; and, what you ought above all other things to value, the purity of your hearts.

Gilpin.

$111. Religion the best and only Support in Cases of real Stress.

There are no principles but those of religion, to be depended on in cases of real stress; and these are able to encounter the worst emergencies; and to bear us up under all the changes and chances to which our life is subject.

Consider then what virtue the very first principle of religion has, and how wonderfully it is conducive to this end: That there is a God, a powerful, a wise and good Being, who first made the world, and continues to govern it; by whose goodness all things. are designed and by whose providence all things are conducted to bring about the greatest and best ends. The sorrowful and pensive wretch that was giving way to his misfortunes, and mournfully sinking under them, the moment this doctrine comes in to his aid, hushes all his complaints-and thus speaks comfort to his soul-"It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good. Without his direction, I know that no evil can befal me,-without his permission, that no power can hurt me;-it is impossible a Being so wise should mistake my happiness--or that a Being so good should contradict it.-If he has denied me riches or other advantages-perhaps he foresees the gratifying my wishes would undo me, and by my own abuse of them be perverted to my ruin.-If he has denied me the request of children--or in his providence has thought fit to take them from me-how can I your say whether he has not dealt kindly with me, and only taken that away which he foresaw would embitter and shorten my days?—It does so to thoucands, where the disobedience of a thankless child has brought down the parent's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. Has he visited me with sickness, poverty, or

Happy is that youth, who, upon his entrance into the world, can chuse his company with discretion! There is often in vice, a gaiety, an unreserve, a freedom of manners, which are apt at sight to engage the unwary; while virtue, on the other hand, is often modest, reserved, diffident, backward, and easily disconcerted. That freedom of manners, however engaging, may cover a very corrupt heart: and this aukwardness, however unpleasing, may veil a thousand virtues Suffer not mind, therefore, to be easily either engaged or dis, usted at first sight. Form your intimacies with reserve; and if drawn unawares into an acquaintance you disapprove, in mediately retreat. Open not your hearts to every profession of friendship. They, whose friendship is worth accepting, are, as

other

other disappointments?-can I say, but these are blessings in disguise?-so many different expressions of his care and concern to disentangle my thoughts from this world, and fix them upon another-another, a better world beyond this!"-This thought opens a new face of hope and consolation to the unfortunate:-and as 112. Ridicule dangerous to Morality

chase-is of that price, that it cannot be had at too great a purchase; since without it, the best condition of life cannot make us happy; and with it, it is impossible we should be miserable even in the Sterne's Sermons.