2. The wishes of the avaricious man are followed by innumerable disappointments.

The property which he covets he often fails to acquire. His plans, although formed with his utmost sagacity, and with extreme care, are not unfrequently frustrated. His debtors become bankrupt. His hard bargains are avoided. His deeds, or other obligations, are defective. His agents are often unskilful, often unfaithful; and while they are employed merely because they will serve him at a cheap rate, frequently make their service distressingly expensive. Storms also will blow, in spite of his wishes. Shelves will spread, and rocks will stand in the way of his ships, as well as in the way of others. The gain which he looks for will often only appear to excite his most anxious desires, and mock him with the most painful disappointment.

Scarcely less is he wounded, when the gain in view is partially acquired. The advantage of a bargain, the amount of a crop, or the profits of a voyage, are less than his expectations have promised. As bis calculations are all set high, and made by the hand of ardent desire, they of course overrun his success. But moderate success frustrates immoderate desire little less than absolute disappointment.

Should we even suppose his success to equal his expectations, he will be still disappointed. He covets wealth, for the good which he supposes it will confer. This good is not the supply of his wants, the communication of conveniences, or the ministration of luxuries. Luxuries and conveniences he has not a wish to enjoy; and his wants might be supplied by a tenth, a twentieth, or even a hundredth part of what he possesses. Personal importance, influence, and distinction, constitute eminently the good which the miser expects from his gains. But this object he often fails to accomplish; and, in the measure which he expects, always. Some of those around him will, in spite of both his wishes and labours, be richer than himself. Others will possess superior understanding; and others superior excellence. Some or all of these will acquire more reputation, weight, or influence than himself. Thus he is compelled to see men who are his rivals, whom he hates, or whom he either dreads as being more, or despises as being less, rich than himself, raised above him in the public estimation; while his own mind is left to the ranklings of envy, and the miseries of disappointment. At the same time, he is frequently stung by the severities of well-founded censure, lashed by the hand of scorn, and set up as a mark for the shafts of derision. He is also without friends, without commiseration, without esteem. He who would gain esteem, must deserve it. He who would have friends, must show himself friendly.' He who would find commiseration, must commiserate others.

3. The good which the avaricious man actually gains is uncertain.

Wealth is the only good which he seeks. If this then is lost, he loses his all. Nothing can be more unwise than to center all our views, wishes, and labours in uncertain good. But the good of the miser is eminently uncertain. No truth is more attested by the experience of man, than that' riches make to themselves wings as an eagle, and fly away towards heaven.' The dangers to which wealth is exposed are innumerable. The schemes of its possessor, in spite of all human sagacity, will at times prove abortive. Flaws will at times be found in the written securities with which he attempts to guard his gains. The formation of them will often be committed to unskilful, because they are cheap, hands. Incompetent and unfaithful persons will at times be trusted, because they offer peculiarly advantageous terms. Houses, notes, bonds, and deeds will at times be consumed by fire. Crops will fail. Cattle will die. Ships will be captured, or providentially lost. The owner and his family will be sick. Debtors will abscond, or become bankrupt; and swindlers will run away with loans, which, in spite of avaricious prudence, they have obtained. In every case of such a nature, the miser's regrets are throes; his disappointments are agonies. The instinctive language of his heart is, 'Ye have taken away my gods; and what have I more?'

But avarice often amasses wealth for its heirs. Solomon hated all the labour which he had undergone to acquire riches, because he should leave them to the man who should come after him;' and knew not whether he would be a wise man, or a fool.' This uncertainty attends every man who amasses wealth. His destined heir or heirs may be wise and prudent; inclined to such expenses only as are useful; and prepared to preserve their inheritance undiminished for those who shall come after them. But they may die before they receive their patrimony, and leave it to the possession of prodigals; to men who will expend it for purposes which the original owner most abhorred; and in a manner so rapid and wanton, as would, if he were living, scarcely leave him the possession of his reason. The intention of all men who lay up property for their children, is unquestionably to do them good. How often is this intention defeated! The property accumulated is designed to make them rich. How often is it the very means of making them poor! It is bequeathed to make them happy. How often is it the cause of their ruin! How often is a splendid inheritance the source of idleness, profusion, negligence, gambling, rash adventure, and speedy beggary! To harass one's-self through life, merely to promote these mi serable ends, is certainly, if any thing is, vanity and vexation of spirit.'

4. The avaricious man incapacitates himself to enjoy the very good which he seeks.

In order to enjoy any kind of good, it is indispensable that we should experience some degree of contentment, at least during the period of enjoyment. But he that loveth silver, will never be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance, with increase.' The desire of gain enlarges faster than the most successful and romantic acquisitions; and, were pounds to be accumulated as rapidly as the most favoured children of fortune multiply pence, the eager mind would still overleap the limits of its possessions, and demand new additions to its wealth with accelerated avidity. As these desires increase, the fear, the reluctance to enjoy what is accumulated, are proportionally increased. The miser, instead of furnishing himself with more gratifications, and enjoying them more highly, as his means of indulgence are increased, lessens them in number and degree; and tastes them with a more stinted parsimonious relish. His habitation, his dress, his food, his equipage, all become more decayed, mean, and miserable continually; because he feels less and less able to afford, first conveniences, then comforts, and then necessaries. though he wanteth nothing for his soul of all that he desireth; yet God giveth him not power to eat thereof.' A rich miser who lives like a beggar, is only a beggar dreaming that he is rich.

Al

II. The guilt of avarice may be illustrated in the following

manner:

1. The disposition is in itself grossly sinful.

This truth the Scriptures have exhibited with peculiar force. • Covetousness,' saith St. Paul, ' is idolatry.' Every person who has read his Bible knows that idolatry is marked in the Scriptures as pre-eminent sin; as peculiarly' the abominable thing,' which God says, 'My soul hates.' Its enormity I have illustrated in a former Discourse. It will therefore be unnecessary to expatiate upon it here. I shall only observe, as we are taught by St. Paul, that 'no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ, and of God.'

Common sense has long since pronounced the avaricious man to be an idolater, in the adage, proverbially used to describe his character; that " he makes gold his god." Plainly, he prefers wealth to every other object; and consecrates his heart, his talents, and his time to the single purpose of becoming rich. To this object he evidently postpones the real God; and neither renders to him, nor, while avarice predominates, can render his affections, or his services. With such 'love of the world,' the 'love of the Father' cannot be united. But how sordid, how shameful, how sinful, is it thus to worship and serve a contemptible creature more than the Creator, ' who is blessed for ever! Amen.'

By this disposition he in whom it dwells is unfitted for all his duty to God. Our duty to God is performed, if performed at all, from that supreme love to him which is enjoined in the first, and greatest command of the moral law. But the heart of the avaricious man cannot thus love God, because he renders this love to the world. He cannot worship God, because he worships gold. He cannot serve God, because he serves Mammon. Thus his heart is alienated from his Maker, and his life employed in a continual and gross impiety.

2. Avarice speedily destroys the tenderness both of the heart and of the conscience.

To be without natural affection' is, in the estimation of the Scriptures, as well as that of common sense, to be eminently and hopelessly sinful. But nothing sooner hardens the native feelings of the heart than the love of riches. Open to them, the soul is sealed up to every thing else, and loves nothing in

comparison with them. Soon and easily it becomes callous to all the objects of tenderness and endearment; forgets the neighbour, the poor, and the distressed; and neglects even its nearest friends and relations. To such a heart poverty petitions, distress pleads, and nature cries in vain. Its ears are deaf, its eyes blind, and its hands closed. In vain the unhappy petitioner approaches with the hope of finding relief. Instead of meeting with the tear of sympathy, and the gentle voice of compassion, he is driven from the gate by the insults of a slave, and the growl of a mastiff.

With tenderness of feeling vanishes also tenderness of conscience; that inestimable blessing to man, the indispensable means of piety and salvation. The continual increase of the appetite for wealth continually overcomes its remonstrances, and gradually diminishes its power. Conscience, often vanquished, is vanquished with ease. Avarice accomplishes this defeat every day, and every hour. Soon therefore its voice, always disregarded, ceases to be heard. Then religion and duty plead with as little success as friendship and suffering pleaded before. All the motives to repentance, faith, and obedience lose their power; and might with equal efficacy be addressed to blocks and stones.

To the miser nothing is of any value but wealth. But wealth conscience cannot proffer, the Scriptures do not insure, God does not promise. Therefore conscience, the Scriptures, and God are of no value to him. To riches, to bargains, to loans, to amassing, to preserving, he is alive. Το reformation, to piety, to salvation, he is dead.

3. The life of the avaricious man is an unceasing course of injustice.

It is an unceasing course of fraud. Few such men fail of being guilty of open dishonesty, the natural and almost necessary consequence of a covetous disposition. Should we suppose him to escape this iniquity, and, fixing his standard of morality as high as any avaricious man knows how to fix it, to make the law of the land his rule of righteousness, he will still live a life of fraud. His only scheme of action is uniformly to get as much as that law will permit; and it will permít, because it cannot prevent, frauds innumerable. Every hard bargain, as I have formerly observed, is a fraud: and the bargains of this man, unless his weakness forbids, or Providence

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