always gives more pain than pleasure. It is highly reasonable that the first place in our mind be reserved for him, to whom alone we owe all things, and to whom we can make no other

return.

[ARCHDEACON JORTIN.]

SERMON XCIV.

SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

SLAVERY OF VICE.

ROMANS VI. 20,- -Ye were the servants of sin.

[Text taken from the Epistle for the Day.]

BONDAGE and subjection are disagreeable sounds to the ear, disagreeable ideas to the mind. The advocates of vice, taking advantage of those natural impressions, have, in every age, employed them for discrediting religion. They represent it as a state of perpetual constraint, which designing men have contrived to impose as fetters on the multitude. On the other hand, they paint a licentious course, as the pleasurable enjoyment of life; where, having surmounted the prejudices of edu cation, and the scruples of conscience, men can act at pleasure, and give full scope to every wish of the heart. But what if those pretended sons of freedom be themselves held in miserable subjection, and (as the apostle affirms in our text) be nothing better than 'the servants of sin?' This assertion of the Apostle I propose to illustrate, by endeavouring to make it appear, that no true liberty can arise from vice; that bad men undergo the worst servitude; and that no one is free, but he who is virtuous and good.

It is necessary to begin with removing false ideas of liberty. We are not to imagine, that to be free, imports our being set loose from restraint or rule of every kind. No man, in any condition of life, is at liberty to act always as he pleases, and to gratify every wish he forms. The laws of society allow no one to indulge himself in pursuits or pleasures, that are injurious to his neighbour. Even our own nature limits our pleasures within certain bounds. All our desires cannot be grati

fied together. They frequently interfere, and require him who would indulge one favourite passion, to deny himself in another. Distinctions, therefore, must be made, preferences be given, and some general regulations of conduct be observed, by every one who consults his own welfare. If there be any regulation which ensures us of safety and happiness, to be disengaged from the observance of that regulation is no article of liberty; at least, of such liberty, as a wise man would wish to enjoy. It is, in effect, to be turned loose to our own ruin. It is such liberty as a blind man enjoys, of wandering at random, and striking into every devious path, without a guide to direct his steps, and save him from destruction.

That unbounded licentiousness, therefore, which sinners prefer to every regulation of conduct, is altogether different from true freedom. It is in moral behaviour the same, as anarchy is in a state, where law and order are extinct. Anarchy, surely, is no less incompatible with true liberty than absolute despotism; and of the two, it is hard to say which is the least eligible or the most miserable state. Liberty by no means supposes the absence of all government. It only supposes that the restraints to which we voluntarily submit ourselves, have been contrived for the general interest.

To be free, therefore, imports, in general, our being placed in such circumstances, that, within the bounds of justice and good order, we can act according to our own deliberate choice, and take such measures for our conduct as we have reason to believe are conducive to our welfare; without being obstructed either by external force, or by violent internal impulse. This is that happy and dignified state, which every wise man earnestly wishes to enjoy. The advantages which result from it, are chiefly these three: freedom of choice; independence of mind; boldness and security. In opposition to these distinguishing characters of liberty, I now proceed to show that, in the first place, vice deprives bad men of free choice in their actions; that, in the second place, it brings them under a slavish dependence on external circumstances; and that, in the third place, it reduces them to that abject, cowardly, and disquieted state, which is essentially characteristic of bondage.

I. Vice is inconsistent with liberty, as it deprives sinners of the power of free choice, by bringing them under the dominion of passions and habits. Religion and virtue call us to look

round on every side; and, before we take any step of importance, to compare the good with the evil that may ensue from it. He therefore who follows their dictates, acts the part of a man who freely consults, and chooses, for his own interest. But vice can make no pretensions of this kind. It awaits not the test of deliberate comparison and choice; but overpowers us at once by some striking impression of present advantage or enjoyment. It hurries us with the violence of passion; captivates us by the allurements of pleasure; or dazzles us by the glare of riches. The sinner yields to the impulse, merely because he cannot resist it. Reason remonstrates; conscience endeavours to check him; but all in vain. Having once allowed some strong passion to gain the ascendant, he has thrown himself into the middle of a torrent, against which he may sometimes faintly struggle, but the impetuosity of the stream bears him along. In this situation he is so far from being free, that he is not master of himself. He does not go, but is driven; tossed, agitated, and impelled; passive like a ship, to the violence of the waves.

After passion has, for a while, exercised its tyrannical sway, its vehemence may, by degrees, subside. But when, by long indulgence, it has established habits of gratification, the sinner's bondage becomes then more confirmed and more miserable. For, during the heat of pursuit, he is little capable of reflection. But when his ardour is abated, and nevertheless, a vicious habit rooted, he has full leisure to perceive the heavy yoke he has brought upon himself. How many slaves do we see in the world to intemperance, and all kinds of criminal pleasure, merely through the influence of customs, which they had allowed to become so inveterate, that it was not in their power to alter them. Are they not often reduced to a condition so wretched, that when their licentious pleasures have become utterly insipid, they are still forced to continue them, solely because they cannot refrain; not because the indulgence gives them pleasure, but because abstinence would give them pain; and this, too, even when they are obliged at last to condemn their habits of life, as injuring their fortune, impairing their constitution, or disgracing their character? Vice is not of such a nature that we can say to it, 'Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther.' Having once entered into its territories, it is not in our power to make a retreat when we please. He that

committeth sin, is the servant of sin.' No man who has once yielded up the government of his mind, and given loose reins to his desires and passions, can tell how far these may carry him. He may be brought into such a desperate state, that nothing shall remain for him but to look back with regret upon the forsaken path of innocence and liberty; and, severely conscious of the thraldom he suffers, to groan under fetters which he despairs of throwing off. Can the Ethiopian change Then may ye also do good, who are accustomed to do evil.' [Jeremiah xiii. 23.]

his skin, or the leopard his spots?

Vice confirms its dominion, and extends it still further over the soul, by compelling the sinner to support one crime by means of another. Not only is he enslaved to those vices, which take their rise from his own inclination; but they render others necessary, to which, against his inclination, he must submit; and thereby strengthen the commanding power of iniquity within him. The immoderate love of pleasure, for instance, leads him into expense beyond his fortune. In order to support that expense, he is obliged to have recourse to low and dishonourable methods of gain, which originally he despised. To cover these, he is forced upon arts of dissimulation and fraud. One instance of fraud obliges him to support it by another; till, in the end, there arises a character of complicated vice; of luxury shooting forth into baseness, dishonesty, injustice, and perhaps cruelty. It is thus that one favourite passion brings in a tribe of auxiliaries, to complete the dominion of sin. By this connexion of one vice with another, sin establishes that servitude over the will, which deprives bad men of all power of free choice in their actions.

II. The slavery, produced by vice, appears in the dependence, under which it brings the sinner to circumstances of external fortune. One of the favourite characters of liberty, is, the independence it bestows. He who is truly a free man, is able to rest upon himself; and while he regards his superiors with proper deference, neither debases himself by cringing to them, nor is tempted to purchase their favour by dishonourable means. But the sinner has forfeited every privilege of this nature. His passions and habits render him an absolute dependent on the world, and the world's favour; on the uncertain goods of fortune, and the fickle humours of men. For it is by these he subsists, and among these his happiness is

sought; according as his passions determine him to pursue pleasure, riches, or preferments. Having no fund within himself whence to draw enjoyment, his only resource is in things without. His hopes and fears all hang upon the world. This is to be, in the strictest sense, a slave to the world.

Religion and virtue, on the other hand, confer on the mind principles of noble independence. The upright man is satis fied from himself.' He despises not the advantages of fortune; but he centres not his happiness in them. With a moderate share of them, he can be contented; and contentment is felicity. Happy in his own integrity, reposing firm trust in the promises of God, he can wrap himself up in a good conscience, and look forward, without terror, to the changes of the world. Let all things shift around him as they please, he believes that, by the divine ordination, they shall be made ‘to work together,' in the issue, for his good.' One who possesses within himself such an establishment of mind, is truly free.But shall I call that man free, who has nothing that is his own, nor properly assured; whose very heart is not his own, but rendered the appendage of external things, and the sport of fortune? Is that man free, let his outward condition be ever so splendid, whom his imperious passions detain at their call, whom they send forth at their pleasure to drudge and toil, and to beg his only enjoyment from the casualties of the world? Is he free, who must flatter and lie, to compass his ends; who must bear with this man's caprice, and that man's scorn; must profess friendship where he hates, and respect where he contemns; who is not at liberty to appear in his own colours, nor to speak his own sentiments; who dares not be honest, lest he should be poor?-Believe it, no chains bind so hard, no fetters are so heavy, as those which fasten the corrupted heart to this treacherous world; no dependence is more contemptible than that under which the voluptuous, the covetous, or the ambitious man lies, to the means of pleasure, gain, or power. Yet this is the boasted liberty which vice promises, as the recompense of setting us free from the salutary restraints of virtue.

III. Another character of the slavery of vice, is that mean, cowardly, and disquieted state, to which it reduces the sinner. The man of virtue, relying on a good conscience and the protection of heaven, acts with firmness and courage; and, in the discharge of his duty, fears not the face of man. The man of