plishments are united with high moral worth, and then alone, that we have an approach to the perfection of human character, which is sure to be a blessing to mankind. In this was the seeming mystery of the character of Washington, which has embalmed his memory with peculiar odor. A giant truly in his stature and proportions, yet he was not of the race of the giants who have made war upon heaven and earth-who have caused an. gels to weep, and filled the habitations of man with tears and blood. He was a hero, but not the vulgar miscalled hero, who goes about the world wrapped in flames and fury, scattering firebrands and death. His image, in its grandeur unequalled, rises above all others, because it stands upon the firm pedestal of moral worth. Another example might be invoked, of one whose grave is yet fresh, whose form we have all seen, in its very autumn still retaining its beauty, but much more beautiful for the virtues of which it reminded us-the venerable man, I mean, who so long administered at the altar as the head of the Episcopal church.* Between these two pre-eminent individuals, whose paths through life seemed to be so far apart, some might suppose there was no resemblance. And yet, if closely examined, such a conclusion will be found to be erroneous. Washington was unsurpassed in every kind of courage. This quality circumstances made conspicuous and indispensable in the stations he occupied. The venerable bishop, meek and humble as he was, it is no derogation from the glory of Washington to say, was in this point fully his equal. No fear could drive him from the way of his duty. When the pestilence, known by the name of the yellow fever, suddenly, and with appalling malignity, visited our city, and the only escape from death appeared to be in flight, he resolutely refused to quit his post, and went wherever he was called, to administer the consolations of religion to the sick and the dying. And this not once, but as often as the fearful visitation was permitted by Providence to be repeated. Even in extreme old age, when the weight of years, and the infirmities they bring with them, might well have been deemed an excuse, he would not decline the invitation of a poor sufferer in one of the cholera hospitals, who desired his aid in prayer. In both, this great quality was so attempered and guided by virtue, that it never became aggressive or hurtful. Both would, if necessary, have triumphantly embraced the stake; but neither would have lighted the pile to destroy another.

If now the question be repeated, why insist especially upon integrity in commercial character, seeing that it is essential to all good character, I will endeavor to give the answer. And first, I would say that perhaps above any other class they are exposed to temptation. And let no one imagine that in saying this, we would degrade the occupation of the merchant. On the contrary, it is lawful and honorable in all its branches. Commerce is the offspring, and at the same time the support of civilization. It is the nurse of the arts of Peace, and the handmaid of Science. It is the lamp, carrying light into benighted regions, and diffusing knowledge over the whole face of the earth. The ship which, in quest of profitable traffic, seeks out the abode of barbarian ignorance, covered with the thick darkness of inhuman superstition, is like the first ray of the morning pon creation. Feeble it may be, and insufficient of itself, but it is the earnest of approaching day, growing and growing, until at length the message of piety is borne

* Bishop White.

by the winds, in the same ship, upon the unfurrowed bosom of the ocean, and the missionary of the gospel comes to plant the tree of life in the wilderness, humbly trusting to his almighty Master to give the increase! No! The great merchant, who is at the same time a good man, upright in his dealings, and careful in his walk-who receives in a right spirit the blessings vouchsafed to him-who, besides the fair books of his business, has a leger in his heart, where he scrupulously and thankfully makes himself debtor for the obligations that result from success, and takes care to balance it by corresponding benefactions-who acts as a faithful steward of the talent confided to him-such a man is truly to be envied, and at the same time honored and beloved. Great are his means, and greatly he employs them, for he employs them wisely. Nevertheless it is true that the way of the commercial class is beset with peculiar temptations, requiring a stern and energetic and habitual integrity to resist them. I will not dwell upon details, which for the most part present such gross and palpable criminality as to bring down immediate condemnation, and I hope and believe are of rare occurrence. The meaner vices, falsehood, concealment, deception, adulteration of commodities, these things, and the like, directly and nakedly presented, are too base and disgusting to be tolerated. Cheating and stealing are in the same moral category. The most subtle casuist can make no distinction between them. Any endeavor knowingly to take advantage of others for our own benefit and at their expense, is at once mean and dishonest. A sure test of the iniquity of all such practices is, that they skulk from observation. If a man dare to do what he dare not tell, his conscience must be seared, or it will plainly accuse him.

But the tempter has other and more insinuating approaches to our frailty, which beguile us by delusion, many times to our own destruction, and often to the great injury of others. The virtue of prosperity, it is said, is temperance the virtue of adversity is fortitude; and certain it is that these conditions, if not duly guarded, have the very opposite tendency. Now to these trials the commercial class are, above all others, exposed. They are exposed, besides, to rapid transitions from one to the other, suffering, almost at the same moment, the double shock. For prosperity, always insecure, is often imaginary and unreal. He who, to his own sanguine hope, and to the eye of others, is at the pinnacle of fortune, may suddenly find that the base is undermined, and, in the midst of his dream of security, be tumbling to the earth, dragging down all who have been connected with him, and who, in general, are numerous in proportion to his fancied eleva. tion. What he is doomed then to suffer, and how his sufferings and temptations are aggravated by self-reproach, if there be cause for it, will be alluded to presently. In the mean time allow me to call your attention to a remark, which may not at first view be obvious, but, nevertheless, contains in it a most serious truth. Every merchant is a trustee, and his conscience is at all times concerned in the faithful execution of his trust. He is the depositary of other men's property, and he is the depositary of their confidence in relation to property, in both which respects he is intrusted, and exactly in proportion as his credit is great, and his dealings large, is the magnitude of this trust, and the extent of the duty it exacts from him. But it may be said, he is not in law styled a trustee. Very true, undoubtedly. The law regards each transaction in its appropriate character. If he make a purchase, he is a buyer-if he contract a debt, he is a debtor, and the like. But still, whatever may be the title applied to

particular transactions, the trust committed to him, and the character of trustee deduced from it, are not entirely disregarded, even by the law. For, whatever he has in his hands is considered to be pledged for the fulfilment of his engagements, and while he is in debt, he cannot withdraw any part of it to make provision for himself or his family. I state this generally, without troubling you with distinctions which are familiar to law. yers. This rule is not an artificial one, nor a mere positive provision about a thing otherwise indifferent. It is deeply founded in morality; and the further it is carried, and the more vigorously it is applied, the better support does it give to commercial morals. Again, the law declares false appearances to be fraudulent, and in the case of debtors condemns the acts that are covered by them as void. If a man be in possession of wealth, he is reputed to be the owner of it, and gets credit, that is, obtains confidence, accordingly. He will not be allowed, when disaster comes, to allege the contrary. This would be to give a triumph to imposition. In these, and some other cases, the law can give but imperfect redress. But does it follow, because the remedial or vindictive power of human laws, by reason of their imperfectness, can go no farther, that therefore the demands of a just morality are complied with? Upon the same principle, the offender who can escape detection, is not an offender. In the eye of sound morals, all false appearances, to mislead and deceive others to their injury, are criminal, and are degrading; and hence, when they are discovered to have been hollow and unreal, we never hesitate to pronounce him an impostor who has assumed them. But the fiduciary duty is to be tried in a just judgment, by even a higher standard than we have thus been applying. It is not fulfilled by abstaining from plain, intentional wrong. He who takes upon himself the trust of other people's interests and welfare, is bound to diligence, to caution, to prudence, to watchfulness; and, above all, he is bound to guard against the seductive influence of an undue eagerness to advance his own fortune, by means which may be destructive to others. Here is the point of his offence, here is the ground of his responsibility,that he has not committed error in the honest effort for the benefit of those who have trusted him ;-no such thing: he has done it for himself, at their risk-he to have the profit in case of success, and they to bear the loss in case of failure. Inordinate buying, inordinate borrowing, inordinate trading, inordinate expenditure-in a word, inordinate self-gratification,-these are the rocks he is admonished of by a thousand disasters, and yet he presumptuously rushes upon them, and makes a wreck of all that was confided to him. It is a poor compensation to those he has ruined, that he has ruined himself too. Against such a delusion temperance is the saving virtue; and here it is that temperance is integrity.

Adversity, too, has its temptations and trials; and to this vicissitude all are liable. The most upright man, however cautious and prudent, is subject to be assailed, and to be overwhelmed by misfortune. Happy may he think himself, and thankful ought he to be, if upon a fair and honest retrospect, he can say it has been without his fault. His store may be emptied of his merchandise, his purse drained of its treasure, his credit prostrated, his dwelling stripped of its accustomed comforts, the present be desolate and dreary, the future almost without hope, yet there is still a gleam of sunshine in the darkness, if he have the approbation of his own conscience. In the midst of the cold and death-like obstruction, when the heart seems to be palsied, there is yet a spring of life, which, though hid by

the anguish of the moment, will come forth in power to reanimate and

restore.

The catastrophe of failure, however, seldom comes at once. The sha. dows of it are cast before. As they deepen and thicken, they offer continual temptation, hard to resist. In this protracted agony it is that men commit the greatest errors-errors which, with sometimes, perhaps, an undue severity of judgment, fasten a stain upon their character that no time is sufficient to efface. This is wrong. Let us establish as high a standard of morality as we can, and conform our own conduct to it as nearly as possible; let us judge ourselves as strictly as we please; nay, let us exert ourselves with all our strength, by precept and example, to keep others in an upright course. But let us beware how we suffer charity to be stifled by indignant feelings and harsh judgment against a fallen brother. By the laws of an all-wise Providence, this is hurtful to ourselves. We forfeit entirely our portion of the double blessing which belongs to mercy, if we neglect its active duties. How much more, when we practise cruelty or persecution towards the afflicted! Should indignation require a vent, hurl it, if you will, against the successful knave, and face the hazard of a rebound. There is gallantry at least, if there be not discretion, in such an assault. But if a brother has sunk under trials which we have been permitted to escape, or have had strength given us to resist, we should be thankful, not proud; compassionate, not cruel; see only the signal of distress, and incline to its relief, rejoicing that we are enabled to give

succor.

In the protracted agony, it has been said, the greatest errors are committed. Can they be avoided? Integrity demands that they should, and it never demands what is impossible. The first thing a man has to do in such circumstances is to take honest counsel with himself; to state the case fairly, to examine it deliberately, and decide it justly; to go through with it as a work he is bound in conscience to perform; not slightingly, not carelessly, not deceitfully, but thoroughly, as if he were upon his oath to make a true inventory and appraisement. He is to look at his books, not to see the figures there set down, but whether the value is what they represent. Such a work is hard, very hard. Many a man closes his eyes, because he knows what they would see if they were opened. He perceives, but he voluntarily makes his perception indistinct, and persuades himself, or tries to persuade himself, that the truth is obscure, when he knows it is clear. He cannot plead ignorance. He is therefore laying up for himself a store of self-reproach, for finally he will be compelled to confess that he sinned against knowledge. The next thing to be done, is to take counsel with judicious friends. If it be hard for a man to look steadfastly at a painful and a humiliating truth, still harder for him is it frankly to make it known to others. Yet it must be done if we would profit by the advice of friends. And lastly, it is the duty of a man in these circumstances, to counsel with his creditors, for it is their interest that is to be dealt with. Safe counsellors they will be found, and generous ones too, it' they are honestly treated. This measure, however, is seldom resorted to, and in these few cases is too long postponed. In the mean time, that is, between the first warning of coming calamity and its final consummation, the ill-directed struggles of the failing man plunge him deeper and deeper into embarrassment and injustice. But we need not attempt to follow him. Let us only, in conclusion on this head, add, that the duty of integrity in

such circumstances, may be comprehended in a few words—a fair disclosure, a full surrender, and an equal distribution..

There is another reason why this point should be insisted upon, in addressing a commercial body in the city of Philadelphia-the ancient com. mercial renown of Philadelphia is to be maintained. The commercial character of this city has been hitherto distinguished for its solidity and purity, as the city itself was for tranquillity and order. Grievous would it be, by any fault of ours, to lose the satisfaction and advantage we have derived from our predecessors; to suffer the fair reputation they have handed down to us, to be stained and disfigured by our neglect or miscon luct. But here I desire to avoid misunderstanding. I do not believe, and therefore I do not admit, that there has been any falling off. I hope we have as much ground for just pride as we ever had. The old weights and measures are still in use. There is not, I am firmly persuaded, a merchant of any standing in Philadelphia-one of our own people, I mean, brought up among us, or fairly imbued with the spirit of our commercial class, who would not scorn to use any others, and would not be despised if he did. At the same time, we must acknowledge, that causes are now in operation which require a sterner and more watchful integrity, if we would keep up to the ancient standard. In the war against space, and time, and vis inertia, science has gained successive triumphs, which have already gone nigh to annihilate them, and is constantly advancing, with mighty steps, to still greater achievements. The benefits of easy and rapid communication are not to be disparaged, and especially in this extended country, whose union it tends to preserve and perpetuate. But, along with its signal advantages, we cannot doubt that it has a powerful tendency to make us more citizens of the world, and less citizens of our own particular community, and thus to break down individuality of character. In such exchanges one may be a gainer, perhaps,-for of this there must be doubtbut another may be a loser. Whatever we have of good in our ancient character, is thus, in some measure, put at risk, and we must make the greater exertion to save it. We must also bear in mind how much we all stand in need of control and restraint. We find them in our home, we find them in the community we live in, and last not least, we find them in reflection and self-examination, which demand quiet, and occasional retirement. What a salutary provision is that-if it were duly regarded and observed-which an all-wise Providence has made for us in the institution of the Sabbath: a day of rest and refreshment from the cares and concerns of the world; for shutting out its feverish anxieties and cares; for waking from the disturbed dreams of the week, and calming and purifying our hearts. But with increased movement has come increased excitement; a more absorbing and unintermitting and even morbid devotion, to objects. which, in a rational estimate, one is at a loss how to characterize. When Europe, in the strong language of a female writer, "loosened from its foundations, seemed to be precipitating itself upon Asia," in the crusades, there was folly in the enthusiasm of the mighty host. But that folly was somewhat dignified by the nature of their purpose. Chivalry, too, was foolish enough; but it professed to be engaged in the service of humanity and charity. Even the warrior Spaniards who marched to the conquest of Mexico and Peru, deemed it necessary to grace their cause with something higher and nobler than the lust of lucre. But now, when the mail arrives from New York, we do not inquire, as the Athenians did, “Is