foolish" principle, especially if the man is not an infidel, but a person who does believe in a judgment to come. I have heard of a millionaire who, on his death bed, was entreated by a friend to leave some money to build two or three churches for the benefit of the town in which he had risen from the very sweepings. "Churches!" exclaimed the expiring old wretch. "Build churches! Why, I have several pews already that are not let." The last days of misers are indeed fearfully illustrative of our motto, "Penny wise and pound foolish." In fact, however shrewd, however keen, however successful a man may be in life, and however intellectual in his tastes and pursuits, however extensively and accurately informed he may be, in any case indifference to religion proves him to be but "penny wise and pound foolish." Another of the sayings of Him who spake as never man had spoken before, or has spoken since, will set this matter in a clear light at once: "What shall it profit a man, if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" To argue upon this question would be absurd; all, without a moment's hesitation, pronounce that the only answer that can be given to it is this, that such gain, at such a cost, would be a dead and unutterable loss, a shocking bad bargain for any man, a most flagrant case of "penny wise and pound foolish." Yes, that's what every body says-every body, excepting perhaps an infidel, whose infidelity goes so far as to deny the immortality, perhaps to deny even the existence, of the soul. All but he at once exclaim, This question admits of but one answer-to gain the world, and lose the soul, would be to the uttermost unprofitable. I only

wish that all men acted in accordance to this conviction, but what do we see? Why, this; that, not for so tempting a bribe as the whole world, but for some poor infinitesimal fraction of the world, men exchange their souls. One runs the risk of losing his soul, rather than not gratify his lust; another runs the risk of losing his soul, rather than abstain from excess in strong drink; and another says, Let me have money, and my soul may take its chance. When I consider for what a paltry amount of gratification some men lose their souls, I cannot call them even penny wise. I do not know of any coin, in any currency, small enough, worthless enough, to be the representative of their wisdom; nor did ever a piece of gold come from any mint large enough to express their folly. Not penny wise and pound foolish, not even farthing wise, but more than a thousand pound foolish, are such men. The devil is very shabby in the bargains which he makes with these poor fools; he would not give Judas Iscariot more than thirty pieces of silver for his soul, and he has bought many a man for less. If he gave them a pretty large share of the world, and of worldly enjoyment; if he gave them riches, and health to enjoy them; pleasures, and a physical constitution to resist their debilitating effects: even then it would be a miserably losing game, to jeopardise the soul for one moment for such a consideration; but poverty, and ill-health, and weakness, and shame, and shortness of days are more generally the wages of sin even in this world; the fact is, it is not a question of gaining the world and losing your soul-you won't gain it. Christ asks, What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole

world? but he knew full well that the whole world cannot be gained, that the sinner gains but a poor little morsel of it with all his striving; and for this little morsel of the world, what a fool a man must be to imperil his future, to run the risk of eternal and irreparable loss! And it is not the miser alone who is doing this, but every man who prefers the pleasures of sin, of any kind of sin, to a sober, righteous, and godly life.

And now will you each ask yourselves, Am I in any respect "penny wise and pound foolish?" There are many other ways of fulfilling this character besides those which I have pointed out; but what I have mentioned are common specimens, common illustrations of the principle. If we are parents, let us not be "penny wise and pound foolish" in the treatment of our children, and their training for life. If we are poor, still let us not be "penny wise and pound foolish" in dwelling in houses unfit for human habitation, if we can possibly dwell in better. In all our marketings and purchases let us be on our guard, lest the delusion of apparent and so-called cheapness betray us into a "penny wise and pound foolish" outlay of money. If we are employers, let us not illustrate this treacherous principle in our treatment of those whom we engage to work for us. If we have been enabled to save anything by our toil, let us be careful, lest "penny wise and pound foolish" investments rob us of our hard-earned treasure. Above all, may we shun that penny wisdom and pound folly, that minimum of wisdom and maximum of folly, which prefers sin to holiness, time to eternity, earth to heaven, and the body to the soul.

LECTURE VIII.

i

CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS.

I Do not know to whom we are indebted for the saying, "Cleanliness is next to godliness." I have heard its origin ascribed to John Wesley. It is a maxim worthy of the sagacious founder of Methodism. I have no doubt that, in his continual intercourse with the people, he found that, next to the devil, dirt was about the most formidable enemy to his great reformatory work. Drink and dirt are the devil's foremen; he pays them liberally; their wages are thousands of bodies and souls-men, women, and children; and they do their master's work diligently, faithfully, and effectively. They are at it night and day-these two demons of the pit; drink working in the beer-house and the gin-palace, dirt working in every narrow street, every dark alley, every ill-ventilated court, every badly-built house, every close, unwholesome workshop, every damp cellar, every open drain, every crowded graveyard. Ministers of religion, schoolmasters, town missionaries, and Scripture readers are, with more or less diligence and earnestness, trying to overthrow the devil's kingdom; but the devil points to his two foremen -drink and dirt-and laughs and snaps his fingers at all

our efforts. I believe that the devil hates the Gospel and dreads the Gospel; I believe that he also hates and dreads soap and water. He is no great admirer of churches; as little does he admire public baths and wash-houses. He knows that "cleanliness is next to godliness," and that a plentiful supply and application of soap and water would do very much towards the overthrow of his dark and horrible dominion in the world. Last Sunday we had a look at the operations of one of the devil's foremen -drink; this afternoon I shall take a peep at that department of the devil's work of which dirt is the "gaffer" [master]. And here, at the outset, let me remark, that if you think it is too high praise to bestow upon cleanliness to say that it is next to godliness, you must remember that the word cleanliness has a moral, as well as a physical signification. This moral sense of cleanliness often comes out in our commonest forms of speech; as, for example, when we say that "our hands are clean," meaning that we are innocent of this or that sin; and when we say that such or such an act is a "dirty trick;" and when we apply the term "foul-mouthed" to a man who is in the habit of swearing and uttering obscene language. In all such cases, and in many more, we recognise the moral, and not merely physical, sense of cleanliness. In like manner the Scriptures often speak of sin as "uncleanness;" of being freed from sin, as being "washed;" the mercy of God, as communicated through the merit and suffering of Christ, is as "a fountain opened for sin and and for uncleanness;" all virtue is spoken of as "purity;" and thus do the Scriptures continually indicate the moral meaning of this word "cleanliness." Take the word,