It need scarcely be observed, that, if thus used, they will have to be employed with prudence and discretion, and with a careful selection. Thus, even with the example of so grave a divine as Bishop Sanderson before me, I should hesitate to employ in a sermon such a proverb as _Over shoes, over boots_—one which he declares to be the motto of some, who having advanced a certain way in sin, presently become utterly wretchless, caring not, and counting it wholly indifferent, how much further in evil they advance. Nor would I exactly recommend such use of a proverb as St. Bernard makes, who, in a sermon on the angels, desiring to shew _à priori_ the extreme probability of their active and loving ministries in the service of men, adduces the Latin proverb: _Who loves me, loves my dog_;[208] and proceeds to argue thus; We are the dogs under Christ’s table; the angels love Him, they therefore love us. But, although not exactly thus, the thing, I am persuaded, might be done, and with profit. Thus, in a discourse warning against sins of the tongue, there are many words which we might produce of our own to describe the mischief it inflicts that would be flatter, duller, less likely to be remembered than the old proverb: _The tongue is not steel, but it cuts_. On God’s faithfulness in sustaining, upholding, rewarding his servants, there are feebler things which we might bring out of our own treasure-house, than to remind our hearers of that word: _He who serves God, serves a good Master_. And this one might sink deep, telling of the enemy whom every one of us has the most to fear: _No man has a worse friend than he brings with him from home_. It stands in striking agreement with Augustine’s remarkable prayer “Deliver me from the evil man, from myself.”[209] Or again: _Ill weeds grow apace_;—with how lively an image does this set forth to us the rank luxuriant up-growth of sinful lusts and desires in the garden of an uncared-for, untended heart. I know not whether we might presume sufficient quickness of apprehension on the part of our hearers to venture on the following: _The horse which draws its halter is not quite escaped_; but I can hardly imagine an happier illustration of the fact, that so long as any remnant of a sinful habit is retained by us, so long as we draw this halter, we make but an idle boast of our liberty; we may, by means of that which we still drag with us, be at any moment again entangled altogether in the bondage from which we seemed to have entirely escaped.