hoary-headed miser: For the principle that now incipiently sways him with a delusive softness, will subsequently wrap the strong cable of its inexorable tyranny around his heart, never to be uncoiled.

We shall name another source of the evil under consideration, -that of satanic influence. This influence is here assumed to be the doctrine of the Scriptures, as this is not the place to prove that point. There is no good proof that there was ever an infernal spirit, or, in all the mythologies, a false god of the name of MAMMON. The personage will do for the poet, as in Milton, but not for the commentators, who ought to keep to truth with all positive strictness. The word means nothing more than "riches." But that Satan himself is the true Mammon,"the god of this world," whom the covetous adore in his character of Mammon, and who by this means has the power to tempt the heart already touched with the love of money,-may be learned from several texts in the New Testament. And it is somewhat remarkable, that though this infernal tempter is often mentioned as the occasion of sin in general, (for "the whole world lieth in wickedness," that is, under the wicked one,) yet his connexion with particular sins is more directly and frequently adverted to in regard to this crime than any other. To this he tempted Christ himself. So of Judas it is said, "The devil put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him," for thirty pieces of silver. And "Peter said, Ananias, why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the land?" The gross enchantments and sorceries of Balaam and Barjesus are stated in connexion with their abominable covetousness; and among the counsels given by St. James to different sinners, including those who "ask amiss that they may consume it upon their lusts," this is one, "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." What are the precise modes of his access to the mind, and by what mysterious power he darkens the understanding, dazzles the imagination, corrupts the will and affections, and sways, not by force, but suasion, the whole soul to his infernal purposes, it is perhaps neither possible nor necessary to determine. We are chiefly concerned with the fact; and of this there can be no doubt. His power is distinguished from that of "flesh and blood," that is, of all that is merely human; just as the pure agency of the Father is mentioned by our Lord to Peter, in

opposition to the same human nature: "Flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but my Father which is in heaven." This tempter is "the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." And they are also called his children because they obey and resemble him. Nor is it probable that his power should not be pre-eminently exercised to give birth and effect to a vice so comprehensive, so suited to the corrupt predilections of the heart, so idolatrous, and so pernicious as the crime we are now examining. This cause must, therefore, be not only one of great intrinsical insidiousness and strength; it must also give extraordinary effect to all the rest.

V. ITS CHARACTER AND TENDENCY OMISSIONS OF DUTY.

THOUGH Our subject is, perhaps, too copious for a brief essay, yet we wish to offer something like a sketch of the whole: The intelligence, the attentive thought, and the conscience of the reader will probably supply the rest. The more we know, by scriptural inquiry and reflection, of the real properties and compass of an evil, the more powerful and practical will be the conviction that we ought to shun it. So far the disease becomes, by the grace of God, its own cure. In looking, therefore, at the dangerous sin of covetousness, we ought to view it in all its aspects. The joint impression of the whole may produce a very strong and lasting effect. It may also prevent us from being deceived in regard to some single points which we might otherwise contemplate in too favourable a light; and other points, of the highest importance to be urged in the argument, may be the more forcibly illustrated by the bad alliance in which they manifestly stand with so many other vile and mischievous qualities.

To see the sin of covetousness in all its colours and dimensions, we must farther show it as failing in the most important duties, and as inciting to the practice of certain positive and hateful vices.

The character of covetousness should be examined, we have said, on the defective side. There may be defect in regard to a virtue where there is no actual verging to the opposite vice; for both the virtues and the vices often hold a middle place, as liberality is supposed to be nearly equi-distant from avarice and extravagance; so one may fail of humane duties on the one hand, without running to positive inhumanity and cruelty on the

other. Nor must sins of this negative description be but slightly blamed. In some cases they are crimes of no ordinary magnitude. To refuse the hand of rescue, for instance, to a drowning man, when it might be given with equal ease and safety, would be a species of murder. The deep regret of Archbishop Usher on his death-bed at the remembrance of his sins of omission, must not be thought unfounded because he was a man of uncommon charity, and diligence, and piety. We should rather judge, that his views of the spirituality, the purity, and severity of the law of God, were much more accurate and affecting than those of ordinary Christians; and that, therefore, his emotions corresponded with truth in the subject which distressed him. He had, probably, but very few positive delinquencies to acknowledge. He was led, therefore, to consider the law more especially in the extent of its requirements; and perceiving this divine standard to be lofty, perhaps very far beyond what he could himself express, he shuddered, not from guilt, but from the vision, so to speak, of the nature and extent even of those failures from which God had previously discharged his conscience by a full and free forgiveness. Thus the sensitive mind of one who has been saved from dreadful shipwreck, will long continue to tremble at the horrors from which he has been rescued. And thus, to compare great things with small, the Saviour himself, "who knew no sin," was infinitely agonized at the terrible disclosure of the innumerable crimes for which he was about to suffer on the cross. But our inference from the case of the pious archbishop is this, that if such was the real character of his omissions, and such their effect upon his mind at death, what shall be said of the many capital and intentional omissions of the covetous and worldly-minded? These must be incomparably more criminal and offensive in the sight of God, and, no doubt, will be visited by some surpassing measure of "the wrath to come."

Covetousness entirely fails in the duty of genuine self-love. This is somewhat remarkable, as self is the grand, nay, the only, object and business of the covetous. Self-love is at once a law of God and of our nature: "No man ever hated his own flesh, but rather cherisheth it." It is, therefore, made the measure of our love to others: "Therefore, all things whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them, for this is the law and the prophets." What this self-love is, we may gather

from the way in which we are instructed to promote and secure our own happiness: "Work out your own salvation," briefly comprehends the whole. Were self-love the rule, self-love as understood by men of the world,-it could not then be said, "Woe unto him that giveth his neighbour drink,-thou that puttest thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken also;" for this would be complying with the rule. And should a covetous man act upon the rule, he would teach all mankind to be as selfish as himself; that is to oppose him, and oppose each other, as their pursuits after gain must necessarily clash together. Nay, he must teach them, at least, by example, that, should he himself be sorely afflicted with sickness and poverty, they ought actually to shut up their bowels of compassion against him, and suffer him to perish. This gross absurdity demonstrates, that the self-love of the covetous is absolutely the reverse of true self-love.

Instead, then, of conforming to the law of God and of nature, justly interpreted in regard to this point, he acts in perfect opposition to it. In this respect he deliberately refuses to comply with the will of the Almighty Lawgiver, and contravenes one of the noblest plans of the Divine benevolence, which is to make man happy, not from his private personal enjoyment, but but from the reflected felicity of myriads beside himself; true self-love expanding in a stream as wide as the universe, and flowing back into the fountain whence it issued. This is happiness upon a scale of grandeur worthy of the ever-blessed God; but of this the sons of selfishness know nothing. Their langnage is, "Give! Give!" forgetful that Omnipotence has decreed that this demand cannot be granted, in any genuine sense, unless they first exclaim with cordial sentiments, "Take! Take!" They live only for themselves, and yet in direct opposition to themselves: "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it."

How covetousness departs from due attention to the eternal interests of the man whom it enslaves, is evinced by his frequent abridgment, or entire neglect, of the means appointed for their advancement and security. This alone shows that the vice is one which tells with terrible effect upon the soul. What time, and thought, and care, utterly beyond the demands of necessity, are completely absorbed in covetousness, all of which might be

occupied with infinite advantage in serious studies, in active usefulness, or in the public and private exercises of devotion, even on the ordinary days of the week! But all this advantage selfishness, with incalculable folly and inconsistency, wipes out as with a sponge Selfishness! the eternal confounder of its own designs, guilty, not of simple suicide, but of the shocking monstrosity of becoming its own executioner, by the aggravated misery of the means which it employs for self-destruction.

But how palpable, how criminal, how detestable, does covetousness appear in its deliberate abandonment of social duties ! In these the slave of riches is proverbially deficient. There is, indeed, a class of social observances to which, on his own account, he finds it very convenient to attend; such as those of justice, or, at least, of apparent justice; some of the modes and tempers of intercourse required by the classes of society with whom he associates; and the particular attentions to the wants of relatives and friends which decency will sometimes irresistibly demand. But even these, when some particular temptation of interest arises, he will often find some Jesuitical pretence to disregard. There may, indeed, be real covetousness where these are not neglected. It will cater for its own, but for no living soul besides. Even natural affection may mingle with this foul stream, and partake of its contamination. Then, if he is well, and his family are well, all the world is well, for any thing he cares; though even here, in many instances, his anxiety for others is merely pretensional, as is proved by the grasp with which he holds his treasure from the necessary uses of his family;—a grasp which death alone can loosen.

The lover of money will occasionally become the lover of something else, provided it be something connected with self; for self may appear at one time in love of gain; at other times, in pride, in mere humour, nay, in vaunting deeds of charity,—as we learn from St. Paul, that alms may possibly be given, not as a matter of bounty, but of covetousness; that is, given reluctantly, or for show, or with some view to receive a larger quantity in some other way. Yes, "Self! self!" is the unchangeable watch-word of this dear, this all-important personage; the music which he sings in cordial whispers to his own ear on commercial walks, or loves to hear echoed in his solitudes, as infinitely sweeter than the wood-notes wild" of groves; the motto of a crest which bears his own picture, encircled by a zodiac, as if