lent and wrathful passions! What ridiculous airs he gives himself; what a storm appears in his disfigured countenance; what fury, what flames and fierceness in his eyes! He breathes out direful threatenings; he abuses the wife of his bosom; he flies upon the children of his own body with the rage of a lion or tiger. He spares not his dearest and most valuable friends; tumult and disorder appear in his whole nature; distraction tortures his soul; his reason is beclouded: neither truth nor virtue, law nor justice, are any longer regarded by him. The man is transformed into a brute, or rather into a fiend and fury. Detestable sight! Who can behold him without horror? Fly from him; he is a disgrace to human nature. He is now only a fit companion for devils, and ought to be shunned and dreaded by human beings. Leave him to be scourged by the rage of his own diabolical passions: he is not fit for the society of reasonable creatures. He is so far from having any claim to the character of a christian, and a child of God, that he is unworthy the name of a man.

Oh how necessary it is to suppress the first motions of immoderate anger; to quench the spark before it becomes a flame, and breaks through all bounds. Give the latent fire no vent, that it may be smothered and stifled, ere it break out to do mischief. Command your tongues to silence, and your hands to stillness, till your spirits are cooled; till calm and sober reason shall preside at the helm,

and direct your operations. Have patience a little while, and the illusion which passion always raises, will vanish: you now behold every thing through a false medium.

It is recorded to the honour of Edward the Third, commonly called the Confessor, that one day being laid down upon the bed, one of the domestics, who did not know he was in the room, stole some money out of a chest he found open, which the king let him carry off, without saying a word. Presently after, the boy returned to make a second attempt; the king called out to him without any violence of passion, "Sirrah, you had best be satisfied with what you have got; for if my chamberlain come and catch you, he will not only take away what you have stolen, but also whip you severely." The chamberlain coming in and missing the money, fell into a great rage; but the king calmly said to him, "Be content; the chest should not have been left open, the temptation was too strong for the poor youth; he wanted money more than we do, and there is still enough left for us."

5. It should not be lasting.-When anger continues so long as to be fixed and rooted in the heart, when we refuse an accommodation, and are determined not to be reconciled, it is rancour, it is hatred, it is fixed malice. This kind of anger is slow, secret and revengeful, like that of Esau to Jacob: The days of mourning for my father are at hand;

then will I slay my brother. Anger may enter into the bosom of a wise man, but in the heart of fools it rests, it resides, it remains; the fire continues to burn. Such a man gives place to the devil, to irritate and inflame him, and keep up turbulent and revengeful passions in his mind. He gratifies that malicious spirit of yielding to his destructive designs. He meditates revenge, and is pushed on to execute some dreadful purpose of sin and mischief. What need have we therefore to beware of lasting anger, and to stand on our guard whenever we find our spirits heated! Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, to unfit you for your evening devotions, or to disturb your sleep in the night: much less should it remain with you the following day.

Pythagoras, a heathen philosopher, recommended to his disciples, that if any quarrel should arise, or any degree of anger be cherished, they should, before the sun went down, shake hands and become friends again. Dr. Watts, in his excellent discourse on the passions, has given the following description of that slow and inveterate anger which is most of all to be dreaded. "Sometimes it spreads paleness over the countenance; it is silent and sullen, and the angry person goes on from day to day with a gloomy aspect, and a sour and uneasy carriage, averse to speak to the offender, unless it be now and then a word or two of a dark and desspiteful meaning. The vicious passion dwells upon the soul, and frets and preys upon the spirits: it

inclines the tongue to tease the offender with a repetition of his crime in a sly manner, upon certain seasons and occurrences, and that for weeks and months after the offence, and sometimes for years. This sort of wrath sometimes grows up into settled malice, and is ever contriving revenge and mischief. May divine grace form my heart in a better mould, and deliver me from this vile temper and conduct!"—As we should seldom suffer our anger to be awakened, so the continuance of it should always be very short. The sullen and long continued resentment above described, is as much contrary to the grace of meekness as a sudden fit of rage and fury. And as it is a settled and deliberate passion, the guilt of it is more heinous, and marked with deeper aggravations in the sight of God.

That we offend not God by our anger, it should not be partial-it should be attended with pity and sympathy-it should be accompanied with proper arguments and endeavours to convince and reform -it should express itself in no rash or unwarrantable words or actions-it should not be lasting.

CHAP. IV.

WHEN OUR ANGER IS SINFUL.

ANGER is not absolutely forbidden to a wise and good man; yet the greatest care is constantly necessary, that we give not a wild and unwarrantable liberty to our anger. We must hold the reins of government with a strong and steady hand, lest our wrath should break out into forbidden mischief. In no part of our conduct are we more prone to offend. The divine rule is short, but very comprehensive Be angry, and sin not. Our present business is, to consider when we transgress this royal law.

1. When we are angry with the providence of God, our anger is sinful and unwarrantable.-The events of providence are sometimes grievous and afflictive they cross our inclinations, and seem to oppose our secular interests. Yet it becomes us not to be angry, sullen, and impatient; to strive with our Maker, and to rage like a wild bull in a net; or to struggle and fret like a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke. Humility and meekness would teach us to kiss the rod, to bear the indignation