T The MORAL REFLECTION. HIS paffage of St. Matthew's gofpel contains two parables, the one of the mustardfeed, the other of the leaven. The commentators and fathers of the church generally teach, that our Saviour by the grain of mustard-feed, which is the leaft of feeds, yet increases to the height of a tree, would explain the greatnefs of faith, and the progrefs of the Chriftian religion. How fmall, nay how contemptible did it appear in the beginning? Chrift, born of a poor mother, in an abandoned ftable; admired indeed by fome, but contemned by more, established it by twelve fishermen, as ignorant as they were poor: fome embraced it, but of the populace only, and even these in private, nay and trembling too. What can appear lefs? yet this little grain in the fpace of fome years fpread it felf over the habitable world. Nay, tho' it feem'd a fcandal to fome, and a folly to others, it fubdued all, and Rome the invincible first butchered its profeffors, and then became Christian. But however St. Chryfoftom and St. Gregory of Nyffa gave these parables another turn. These fathers pretend, they must be understood of example, which produces the fame effects with the muftard-feed, which becomes a tree, and the leaven which feasons the whole lump. Good example, in fmall things, is often the occafion of great virtues, and bad as often of fcandalous vices. I will in this place caution the reader against lewd company; because their example, in all probability, will infect him. For vice is catching, and therefore it is no lefs dangerous for the foul to frequent finners, than for the body to converfe with thofe, who carry the plague about them. A philofopher being asked, what kind of man fuch a one was, returned this anfwer, Tell me what company he keeps. He meant, that thofe, who club together, fteer generally by the fame principles; that lewd company produces rakes, and fober converfation reforms even debauchees. The fcripture is plain upon the point. He that walketh with a wife man, fhall be wife, but a companion of fools fhall be destroyed, Prov. xiii. 20. Now the reason is, that as, in nature, every agent endeavours to turn its contrary into its own nature; fo in morals, virtue and vice are in a continual combat; the one draws upon the other, and the fight feldom ends but by the deftruction of one of them; and because corrupt nature always flies to the affiftance of vice, it is ten to one against virtue. Bad company works two ways, by actions on our eyes, and by difcourfe on our ears; and both ways on our heart; each feparate is powerful, but, combined, almost irresistible. Seneca tells us, that the way to any art is long by precepts, but fhort by example; Because men generally believe their eyes more than their ears. Ideas drawn in by the eye make a quicker and deeper impreffion on the faculties of the foul, than thofe that enter at the ear. Ariftotle derives the force of example from the very nature of man, prone to imitation. It is natural to men and boys to imitate one another, and in this they differ from other creatures. Now if it be fo natural for man to imitate what he fees another do, it will be much more fo, when the pattern invites, and inclination leads him to copy the original. We have all a strong bent to pleasure; and can scarce counterpoise the natural biafs to extravagancies with all the force of grace, even when we fit alone in folitude and retirement. If therefore nature alone weighs us down, what L 2 what a plunge fhall we make when bad examples help to fink us! God commanded the Jews to extirpate the whole race of the Canaanites, and he tells them the reafon. They will certainly change your hearts. Their example will debauch you, and their company will lead you into idolatry; but the Jews minded more their intereft and their paffion, than God's command; they fpared fome for fervants, and changed the fentence of death (God himself had pronounced) into the punishment of flavery: but what followed? They converfed with Gentiles, and went over to their religion. Now the reason why bad company works fo ftrongly upon us, is, that a continual commerce with thofe who make fin their business, as well as their pleasure, inures us to fin, and takes off the ghaftly vizor that frighted us. Its votaries appear no less genteel than thofe of virtue; their difcourfe fparkles with wit; mirth fits on their faces, and profperity waits upon them. The heavens pour down as kind fhowers on their lands, as on those of their neighbours; they enjoy the bleffings of health and long life, and hope in the end to pafs from an earthly paradife into an eternal one. These confiderations make unthinking people fufpect, that divines in their books have drawn the picture of vice more monftrous than the original; that they overflourish the damages of a bad life, and the advantages of a pious one; and, when nature enforces the argument with a certainty of a merry life here, and the hope of a happy one hereafter, we shall steer by the compafs of our companions, efpoufe their principles, and imitate their follies. Some pretend, that, by converfing with rakes, they may bring them back to their duty it may be; but what probability? a prostitute may poffibly be converted in the ftews; yet who but a madman madman will try the experiment? a drunkard may be reclaim'd in a tavern; however, I would not endeavour to drink him into fobriety. These places breathe infection, and bad company is no less peftilential; the danger of being perverted is ten times greater than the hopes of converting a lewd companion; and therefore, by the rule of well ordered charity, we must provide for our own fecurity. Leave Sodom with Lot, if you intend to efcape burning; fo long as you ftay, prefervatives are weaker than the poison. But if being in the company, where fins are often committed, be dangerous; it is ftill more, when you hear, as well as fee, provocations to wickedness. Now this temptation is infeparable from loose company. You may read the heart on the tongue: this is but the index of that, and feldom moves but by its direction. For what lies on the heart of a finner but lewdnefs? whofoever therefore takes up with rakes, muft expect nothing but lectures of profaneness and impiety, but fatires upon godliness, and flourishes upon fenfuality. You defire to withdraw to perform your devotions; the very name puts the whole club in a ferment. Some play the doctors; they tell you, piety works upon the conftitution; it flies up to the head, and raises hypochondriacal vapours. Others are pleasant upon the fubject: it is a pretty employment (cry they, with a finile) for women and children; men are above fuch petty toys; and then fum up their difcourfe in a peal of laughter, and supply the weakness of their reafons with raillery. You will tell me, fuch jefts are too childish to be dangerous, and that a man must be little af fectioned to his duty, to defert it upon fo flight a temptation. They are childish, I confefs: however, more Chriftians have been rallied out of piety, and reli gion alfo, than tormented out of it. For, in fine, raillery cuts deeper than menaces; and a man of honour had rather be flashed with a sword, than lashed with a jeering tongue. Hiftory affures us, Julian the apoftate fcoffed more Chriftians into idolatry, than Dioclefian rack'd into it. But if this contrivance wheedles you not into vice, they unriddle the whole mystery of Epicurifm. The greater part (fay they) of thofe actions, education and cuftom call fins, are mere chimeras of our own creating; they have nothing bad but the name ; lubricity is a flip of nature, the effect of inclination; it offends no body, but thofe, who, like vipers, turn all into poison. Nature carries us to it with fuch an impetuofity, that we cannot bear up against the current, and then how can God punish poor mortals for those things that are unavoidable? Is not this doctrine a great relief against a troublesome confcience? what it's our interest should be no fin, is it not probable we shall judge innocent? Now, tho' at first fuch libertine doctrine may not go down, in time it will work efficaciously, a frequent repetition will foon remove disgust, and when once we hear it with indifference, we fhall foon believe it with pleafure; and when we are talk'd out of principles, we fhall lay down all thoughts of morality; for whofoever has no principles of virtue, has no reason to practise it. Men generally pretend, the profane discourses of bad companions breed averfion; that fine language only, and genteel flashes of wit, affect them; that they abhor the doctrine, tho' they admire the turn, and approve the expreffion. This is a flender excufe, a wretched falvo. Would you hug a witty man, tho' ftruck with the plague? would his flashy sentences perfuade you to take his tokens? without doubt, no. Why then do you postpone wit to |