,%^ ?^ SERMONS, ':^^ B Y PUGH BLAIR, D. D One of the Mlnxsters of the High Church, A N P Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettivso in the UNitERSiTY of Edinburgh. yOLUME THE SECOND, THE THIRTEENTH EDITION. LONDON: Printed : BALTIMORE: Re printed for the Rev. M. L. WeemS; by Samuel and John Adams, Book-Prinieri, in Gayt the Corner of Second- Street, M DCC XCIIIo T H E C O ^N T E N T % SERMON XXII. On the proper Eftimate of Human Life. EcCLESiASTES, xii. 8. Vanity of vanities faith the preacher i allU vanity ! SERMON XXIIL On Death. Psalm xxHi. 4. Tea^ though I walk through the valley ofthefha-^ dbw of deaths I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy fiaff they comfort me, SERMON XXIV. On the Happinefs of a Future State. ReVELAT. vii. 9. After this 1 beheld, and, lo ! a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peiple^ ' and tongues, food before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands, SERMON XXV. On Candour. Corinth, xiii. 5. Charity — thinketh no evil S E R M O N XXVI. On the Charader of Jofcph. Genesis, xIv. 5. 8. t^ovj therefore he not grieved nor angry with iv CONTENTS, yourfehes that ye fold me hither : for God did fend me before you t<> preferve Ife. — So now it was not you thatfent me hither ^ hut God. SERMON XXVII. 0. Kings, viii. i?, 13. And Hazael faid, WJ^y weepeth my Lord ^ and he anfweri'dy Bicaufe 1 know t^e evil that fhtu wilt do unto the children of Ifrael Their frong holds wilt thou fet on fire, and their young men zvilt thou fay with thefword, and writ dajh their children^ and rip up their women with child. And Ha%ael faid. But whaty is thy fervant- a dog, that he jhould do this great thin^} And Eli (ha arifwered. The Lord hath Jhewed me that thou Jhdt be king over Syria, SERMON XXVIII. On the Benefits to be derived from the Houfe of Mourning. EcCLESlASTSS, vil. 2, 3, 4. . // is better to goto the hoife of mourningy than to the houfe of Jeafiing ; for that is the end of aU men^ and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter; for by the fadnefs of the countenance the heart is made letter. The heart of the wife is in the houfe of mourning ; but the heart of fools is in the houfe of mirth. S E R M O N XXIX. On the dr/ine Government of the Paflions of Men. Psalm Ixxvi. lo. Surely the wrath of man fhall praife thee : tho remainder of wrath fialt thou reflrain, SERMON XXX. On the Importance of Religious Knowledge to Mankind. Isaiah, xi. 9. They fhall not hurt nor deflroy in all my holy moun, tain ; for the earth fhall be full of the knowledge of the Lord ^ as the Wafers cover the Sea, CONTENTS. 9 SERMON XXXL On the true Honor of Man. Proverbs iv. 8. Exal/ hery and jhe jhall promote thee ; j)je (kali bring thee to honor. — SERMON XXXIL On Senfibility. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep zvilh them that zveep» SERMON XXXIII. On the Improvement of Time. Genesis xlvii. 8. And Pharaoh /aid unto Jacoby How old art thou ? SERMON XXXIV. On the Duties belonging to MiddVe Age. I Corinth, xiii. li. ^JVhen I became a ?nan, I put away childifi things. SERMON XXXV. On Death. EccLESiASTES xii. 5. Man goeth to his long home, and th mourners go ahaiit thejireets. SERMON XXXVI. On the Progrefs of Vice. Corinth, xv. 33. Be not deceived: evil communications corrj^pl good manners. SERMON XXXVIL Oil Fortitude, VJ CONTEN TS, Psalm xxvii. 3. Though an ho/l Jhould encamp a^a'wjl me, my. heart Jhall not fear. SERMON XXXVIII. On Envy. Corinth xlii. 4. Cha rity envieth not. SERMON XXXIX. On Idlenefs. Matthew xx. 6. Why Jiand ye here all the day, idle} SERMON XL. On the Senfc of the Divine Prefence. Psalm Ixxlii. 23. / am continually with thee. — ^ SERMON XLI. On Patience. Luke xxi. 19. In your patience pojpfs ye your fouls. SERMON XLIL On Moderation. PHILIPPIANS iv. 5. Let your moderatim be known Unto oilmen, SERMON XLIIL On the Joy, and the Bitternefs of the Heart. Proverbs xiv. 10. The heart hioweth his own bitternefs, and a f ranger doth not intermeddle with his jcy. CONTENTS vli SERMON XLIV. On Chara£lcrs of Imperfecfl Goodnefs. Mark X. 21. Thenjefust beholding hinit loved him, SERMON XLV. On the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, as a Preparation for Death, Matthew xxvi. 29. But I fay unto you y I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father* s kingdom, SERMON XLVL On the Ufc and Abufe of the World, Corinth, vli. 31. They that ufe this worldt as not abufng it, SERMON XLVII. On Extremes in Religious and Moral ConducSl. FrOVERBS iv. 27. Turn not to the right hand, nor to the left, SERMON XLVIII. On Scoffing at Religion. 2 Peter ili. 3. There Jhall come in the lafl days f coffers, SERMON XLIX. On the Creation of the World. Genesis i, i. In the beginning God created the heaven t and the earth, SERMON L. Oh the Diffolution of the World. 3 Peter I ii. 10. But the Day of the Lord will come as a thief in ths night : in the which the heavens Jhall pafs away with a great noife^ and the elements Jhall melt with fervent heat ; the earth aJjo, and the- %vorhs that are therein j Jhall he burnt up. S E R M O N • ^,? * * * .-jc :i: * .t, l^ *^^l.^^'^CT'r'»^«^'^^'- ^-» --Sk.* Jiik... ^ E R M P N XXII. On the proper Estimate cA Human Life, EccLEsiA3TEs, xii. 8. Vanity of vanities , faith the preacher ^ all is vanity, S.^ O Icrious maxim has been more generally adopted ^ N V"* ^^^" that of the text. In every age, the vanity of huriian ^^ ^ hfe has been the theme of ficciamaiion, and the fubjed of ^^ complaint. It is a conclufion in which men ot all charac- ters and ranks, the high and the low^ the young and the old. the reli- gions and the worldly, have more frequently concurred, than in any o- ther. But how ju(t foever the conclulion may be, the premifes which lead to it are often falfe. For it is prompted by various mtjtive?, aid derived from very different views ot things. Sometimes the lan- guage of the text is alfumed by afceptic who cavils at Providence, and cenfores the confiitution of the world. Sometimes it is the coaiplaint of a peeyiOi man, who is difcontcnted with his Ration, and ruffled by the dilappointment of unreaionable hopes. Soiue- timcs it is the flyle ot the licentious, when groaning under mife- ries, in which their vices have involvec' them. Invedives againft the vanity of th;e world which come from any of thefe quarters de- fcrve :i.o regard; as they are the didlates of impiety, of fpleen, cr ot tolly. The only cafe in which the fentiment ot the text clain^s our attention, is, when uttered, not as an alpertion on Providejice, cir a refie61ion on human affairs in general ; not as the language of private difcontent, or the refuU of guilty fuffering^ ; but as the fo- ber conclijfion of a wife and good man, concerning the imperfec- tion of tjiat happinefs which rcfts folely on worldly pleafures. Tiiei-e in their fairel^ form, are not what they feem to he. They never bellow that complete fatisfac^ion which they promife ; and therefore he whe looks to nothing beyond them fliall have frequent raufe to deplore their vanity. Nothing is of higher importance to us, as men, and as Chrifti- ans, than to form a proper eflimate of human life, without either Joaciingit with imaginary evils, orexpeding from it greater advan- tages than it is able to yield. It (hall be my bufinef* therefore, in On the proper Eftim^ite^ 6c. ^ tc\ this Dircourfe, to diftinguilh a jijft and religious fenfc of the va- nity of the world, from the unreafonablc complaints of it which v\e often hear, I ihall endeavour, I. To fTiew in what lenfe it is true that all earthly pleafures are vanity. II. To enqu re, how this vanity of the world can be reconciled with the perfediotjs of Its great Author. III. To examine, whether there are not (on e real and fulld enjoyments in human life which fall nut under this general charge of vanity. And, IV. To point out the proper improvement to be made of fuch a ftate as the life of man ilidl ap- pear on the whole to be. . I. I AM to flidw in what fenfe it is true that all human plea- fures are vanity. This is a topic which might be embelhfhed with the pomp of much defcription. But I fhall ftudioufly avoid exag- geration, and only point out a threefold vanity in humeri life, which every impartial obferver cannot but adnjit; difappointmenc in purfuit, dilTatisfa^lion in enjoyment, uncertainty in pofieilion. . Firft, difappointment in purfuit. When we look around us on the world, we every where behold a bufy multitude, intent on the profecution of various defigns which their wants or defires have fuggefted. VVe behold them employing every meiLod which in- genuity can devife, fome the patience of induftry, (bme the boldnefs of enterprife, others the dexterity of flratagem, in order to cornpafs their ends. Of this inceflant ftir and acliviry, what is the fruit ? In comparifon of the croud who have toiled in vain, how fmall is the number ot the fuccefsful? Or rather, where is the man who will declare, that in every point he has completed his plan, and at- tained his utmoft wiHi. No extent of human abilities has been able to difcover a path which, in any line of life, leads untrriiigly to' fuccefs. The race is not always to the fivlft, nor the hatlle to the Jlrong, nor riches to men of under/} amUng. We may lorm our plans with the moft profound fagacity, and with the moft vigilant' caution may gu^rd agaiuft dangers on every lidc. But forre unforefeen occurrence comes acrofs, which baffles our wifdonj, and lays our labours in the diift. Were fuch difappointments confined to thofe who afpire at crr- grofiing the higher departments of life, the misfortune would be lefs. The humiliation of the mighty, and the f^ll of ambition from' iis towering height, hitle concern the bulk of mankind. Thefits and amufements of focial life ; and more to the internal en- joyments of thought and refle6lion, and to the pleafures of affec- tionate iniercourle with thofe whom we love. Thefe comforts are often held in too low eftimation, merely becaufe they are or- dinary * Ecclef, ii. 26. i^ On the proper E/ihnate clin;iry and common ; although that be the circumftance whrck ought, in reafon, to enhance their value. They lie open, in fonie degree, to all ; extend through every rank of life, and fill lip agreeably inany of thole fpaces in our prefentexiftence, which are not occupied with higher objeds, or with ferious cares. We are in feveral refpecls unjuft to Providence in the compu- tation of our pleafures and our pains. We number the hours which are fpent in diflrefs or lorrow ; but we forget thofe which have paflTed away, if not in high enjoyment, yet in the midft of thofe gentle fatisfa^tions and placid emotions which make life glide fmoothly along. We complain of the frequetU difappointments which we fuffer in our purfuits. But we recoiled not, that it is in purfuit, more than in attainment, that our pleafure now confifts. In the prcfent fiate of human nature, man derives more enjoy- ment from the exertion of his adive powers in the midft of toils and efforts, than he could receive from a ffill and uniform poiTef- fion of the objed which he drives to gain. The felace of the mind under all its labours, is hope ; and there are few fituations which entirely exclude it. Foi*ms of expeded bhfs are often gleaming upon us througli a cloud, to revive and exhilerate the moft diitrefl'ed. If pains be fcattered through all the conditions of life, ft) alfo are pleafures. Haf>pinefs, as Ut as life affords it, can be engrofTed by no rank of men to the exclufion of the reft ; oii the contrary, it is often found where, at firlt view, it would h.ive been leaft expeded. When the human condition appears moft deprefTed, the feelings of men, through the gracious appoint^ ment of Providence, adjui^ themfelves wonderfully to their ftate, and enable them to extrad fatisfadion from fourc^s that are to- tally unknown to others. Were the great body of irien fairly to compute the hours which they pafs in eafe, and even with fome degree of pleafure, they would be found far to exceed the number of thofe which are fpent in abfolure pain either of body or mind. — But in order to make a flill more accurate ellimaiion of the degree of fatisfadion which, in the midll of earthly vanity, man is per- mitted to enjoy, the three following oblcrvations claim our atten- tion : The firft is, that many of the evils which occafion cur com- plaints of the world are wholly imaginary. They derive their" exiflence Of Human Life, 1 7 ^xiftence from fancy and humour, and childifli fubjeaion to the opinion of others. The diitrels which they produce, I admit, is real ; but its resliiy arifes not from the nature of things, but' from that diforder of imagination which a fmall meafure of rcflec tion might redlify. In proof of this we may obferve, that the perfons who live moft fimply, and follow the didates of plain un, adulterated nature, are moft exempted from this clafs of evils. It is among the higher ranks of mankind that they chiefly abound ; where fantaftic refinements, fickly delicacy, and eager emulation, open 3 thoufand fources of vexation peculiar to themfelves. Lite cannot but prove vain fo them whoaffecT: a difreliHi of every plea- fure that is not both exquifite and new ; who meafure enjoyment, ^lot by their own feelings, but by the llandard of falhion ; who think themfelves miferable if others do not admire their ftate. It is not from wants or forrows that their complaints arife ; but, though it may appear a paradox, from too much freedom ^ from forrow and want ; from the languor of vacant life, and the irrita- tion occafioned by thofe ftagnating humours which eafe and indul- gence have bred within them. In their cafe, therefore, it is not the vanity of the world, but the vanity of their minds, which is to h6 accufed. Fancy has raifed up the fpeftrcs which haunt them. Fancy has formed the cloud which hangs over their life. Did they allow the light of reafon to break forth, the fpedres would vanifli, and the cloud be difpelkd. The fecond obfei-vation on this head is, that of thofe evils which may be called real, becaufe they owe not their exiftence to fancy, nor can be removed by rectifying opinion, a great proportion is brought upon us by our own mifconduc^. Difeafes, poverty, dix^- appohnment and (hame, are far from being, in every inflance, the unavoidable doom of men. They are much more frequently the offspring of their own mifguided choice. Intemperance engenders difeafe,"floth produces poverty, pride createsdifappointments, and diaionefty expofes to fliame. The ungoverned palfions of men be- tray them into a thoufimd follies; their follies into crimes; and their crimes into misfortunes. Yet nothing is more common than for fuch as have been the authors of their own mifery, 10 make loud complaints of the hard fate of man, and to take revenge upon the human condition by arraigning its fuppofed vanity, Tk {rjAifincfs Q of iS On the proper EpAniate of manfirj} pervert eth his way, and then his heart fretteth agawjf the Lord. I do not, however, maintain, that it is within our power to be altogether free of thofe felf-procured evils. For perfeftion of a- ny kind is beyond the reach of man. Where is the wifdom that never errs ? Where the jhft man that ofFendeth not ? Neverthelefs, much is here left to ourfelves; and, imperfeft as we are, the con- fequences of right or of wrong condud make a wide difference in the happinefs of men, Experience every day fliows that a found, a vvelNgoverned, and virtuous mind contributes greatly to fmooth the path of life; and that wifdom excelltth foUy as far as light excelleth darknefs^ The way of the wicked is as darknefs ; they know not at what they flumhle. But the righteoufnefs of the perfect jhalt direfi his way ; and he that walketh uprightly, walketh fure/y, The tendency of the one is towards a plain and fafe region. The courfe of the other leads him amidlt fnares and precipic- es. The one occafionally may, the other unavoidably mufl, incur much trouble. Let us not then confound, under one general charge, thofe evils of the world which belong to the lot of humanity, and thofe which, through divine alTiftance, a wife and good man may, in a great meafure, efcape. The third obfervation which I make refpetls thofe evils which are both real and unavoidable ; from which neither wifdom nor goodnefs can procure our exemption. Under thefe this comfort remains, that if they cannot be prevented, there are means, how- ever, by which they may be much alleviated. Religion is the great principle which a6ls, under fuch circumftances, as the cor- redtive of human vanity. It infph*es fortitude, fnpports patience, and by its profpeds and promifes darts a cheering ray into the darkeft fliade of human life. If it cannot fecure the virtuous from difappointment in their purfciits, it forms them to fuch a tempe?:, as renders their difappointments more light and eafy than thofe of ether men. If it does not banifh diifatisf action from their worldly pleafures, it confers fpiriiual pleafnres in their ftead. If it enlures them not the polTefFion of, what they love, it furnifhes comfort under the lofs. As far as it eftabliflies a contented frame of mind, it fiipplies the want of all that ^vorldly men covet to poflefs. Compare the behaviour of the fe.4- " fual o/^ Human Life, icj ilii-I and corrupted with that of the upright and holy, when both are feeling the .effects of human vanity, and the difference of their lituation will be manifcft. Among the former you are likely to find a querulous and dejected; among the latter, a compofed and manly, fpirit. The lamentations of the one excite a mix- ture of pity and contempt; while the dignity which the other maintain in diftrefs, commands refpect. The fufferings of the for- mer fettle into a peevifh and fretful difpofition ; thofe of the lat- ter ioft^n the temper, and improve the heart. Thefe confequenc- es extend fo far as to give ground for aflerting, that a good man enjoys more happinefs in thecourfe of a feemingly unprofperous life^ than a bad man does in the midftof affluence and luxury. What a confpicuous proof of this is afforded by the Apoflle Paul, who from the very depth of affliction could fend forth fuch a trium- phant voice asproclaims the complete vidory which he had gained over the evils of life ? Troubled on every fide, yet not diftrejjed ; perplexed, hut not in defpair ', perfecuied, but not forfaken ; caji down, hut not dejlroyed. For though our outward man perifJj, our inward man is renewed f day by day. ^^ Such, though perhaps in an inferiour degree, will be the influence of a genuine religious princi- ple upon all true Chriftians. It begins to perform that office to them here, which hereafter it will more completely difcharge, of wiping away the i^ars from their' eyes. Such, upon the whole, is the eftimate which we are to form of human life. Much vanity will always belong to it ; though the degree of its vanity will depend, in a great meafure, on our own character and cqndu.^t. To the vicious, it prefents nothing but a continued fcene of difappointment and diffatisfa^tion. To the good, it is a mixed ftateof things ; where many real comforts may be enjoyed ; where many refources under trouble may be obtain- ed ; but where trouble, in one form or other, is to be expeded as the lot of man. From this view of human life, The firft pradical conclufion which we are to draw is, that it highly concerns us not to be unreafonablc in our expeftations of worldly felicity. Let us always remember where we are; from Fhat caufes the human ftate has become fubjed to depreffion ; and «poa * 2 Car, iv. 8^ g. i6. ^9 On the proper Efilmate upon what accounts it miift remain under its prefcnt law. Such is the infatuation of felf-love, that though in the general dodrine of ihe vanity of the world all men agree, yet alinoft every one flat- ters himfelf that his own cafe is to be an exception froni the com- mon rule. He relh on expectations which he thinks cannot fail him ; and though the prefcnt be not altogether according to his wiflj, yet with the confidence of certain hope he anticipates futuri- ty. Hence the anguifi] of difappointaient fills the world ; and evils, which are of themfelves fufficiently fevere, opprefs with double force the unprepared and unfufpeding mind. Nothing therefore is of greater confequence to our peace, than to have always be- fore our eyes llich views of the world as fliall prevent our expell- ing more from it than it is defcined to afford. We deftroy our joys by devouring them beforehand with too eager expectation. "VVe ruin the happinefs of life when we attempt toraife it too high. A tolerable and comfortable ftate is all that we can propofe to curfelves on earth. Peace and contentment, not blifs nor tranf- port, is the full portion of man. Perfect joy is referved for heaven. But while \vq reprefs too fanguine hopes formed upon human life, let us, in the fecond place, guard againft the other extreme, of repining and difcontent. Enough has been already faid to Ihew that, notwithflanding the vanity of the world, a confidera- ble degree of comfort is attainable in the prefent Rate, Let the recoUeccion of this ferve to reconcile us to our condition, and to check the arrogance of complaints and murmurs. — What art thou, O fon of man ! who having fprung but yefterday out of theduft, dareft to lift up thy voice againft thy Maker, and to arraign his providence, becaufe all things are not ordered according to thy wiili ? What title haO: thou to find fault with the order of the univerfe, whofe lot is fo much beyond what thy virtue or merit g3ve thee ground to claim? Is it nothing to thee to have been in- troduced into this magnificent v»orld f to have been admitted as a fpedaror of the divine wifdoiu and works ; and to have had ac- cefs to all the comforts which nature, with a bountiful hand, has poured forth around thee ? Are all the hours forgotten which thou haft pafled in Cufe, in complacency, or joy ? Is it a fmall favour in thy eyes, that the hand of divine mercy has been ftretched forth to aid thee, and, if thou reject: not iis profiered affiilance, is ready to conduct thee into a happier ftate of exiftence I When s/ Human Life. 2 J ■When thou compareft thy condition with thy defert, bluHi, and .be aflianied of thy complaints. Be fiknt, be grateful, and adore. Receive with thankfulnefs the blelTings which are allowed thee. Revere that government w hich at prefent refufes thee more. Rc.ft in this conclufion, that though there be evils in the world, i^s Creator is wife and good, and has been bountiful to thee. In the third place, the view which we have taken of human life ihould naturally diredl us to fuch purfuits as may have mofl: influence for correding its vanity. There are two great lines of condufl which offer themfelves to our choice. The one leads to- wards the goods of the mind ; the other towards thofe of fortune. The former, which is adopted only by the few, engages us chief- ly in forming our principles, regulating our difpofitions, improv- ing all our inward powers. The latter, which in every age has been followed by the multitude, points at no other end but attain- ing the conveniences and pleafures of external life. It is obvious that, in this laft purfuit, the vanity of the world will encounter us at every ftep. For this is the region in which it reigns, and where it chiefly difplays its power. At the fame time, to lay th^ world totally out of view, is a vain attempt. The numberlefs ties by which we are connected with external things^ put it out of our power to behold them wiih iiidifference. But though we cannot wrap ourfelves up entirely in the care of the mind, yet the more we make its welfare our chief object, the nearer fliall we approach to that happy independence on the world, which places us beyond the reach of fuffering from its vanity. Thatdifcipline, therefore, which correct the eagernefsof world. ]y paflions, which fortifies the heart with virtuous principles, which enlightens the mind with qfeful knowledge, and furni/hes to it matter of enjoyment from within itfelf, is of more confe- quence to real felicity than all the provifion which we can make of the goods of fortune. To this let us bend our chief attention. Let us keep the heart zuithal/ Ml/gence, feeing out of it aretheijfues of life. Let us account our mind the mofl important province which is committed to our care ; and if we cannot rule fortune, ftu.K at leaft to rule ourfelves. Let us propofe for our object, not worldly fuccefs, which it depends not on v& to obtain : but that upright and honourable difcharge of our duty in every conjunc- ture, which, through the divine aflif?ance, is alwa\^s within our power. 2t2 On the proper Ejlifnaie, 6c, j^ower. Let our happinefs be fought \vhei*e our proper praife is iound ; and that be accounted our only real evil, which is the evil of our nature ; not that, which is either the appointment of Pro- vidence, or which arifes from the evil of others. But in order to carry on with fuccefs this rational and nianly plan of conducl, it is necefiary, in the lai\ place, that to moral, \ve join religious difcipline. Under the prefent imperfection of cur minds, and amidft the frequent fnocks which we receive from human evils, much do we ftand in need of every afnftance for Supporting our conftancy. Cf all affiftance to which we can have recourfe, none is fo powerful as what may be derived from the principles of the ChriiVian faith. He who builds on any other foundation, will find, in the day of trial, that he had built his houl'e on the fand. Man is formed by his nature to look up to a Ibperiour being, and to lean upon a iirength that is greater than his own. All the confiderations which we can offer for confirm- ing his mind, prefuppofe this refource, and derive from it their principalefficacy. Never then let us lofe fight of thofe great objecfls which religion brings under our view, if we hope to ftand firm and eredt amidll: the dangers and 4Jftreires of our prefent Hate. Let us cultivate all that coinedion with the great Father of Spirits which our con- dition admits ; by piety and praytr ; by dependence on his aid, and truft in hispromifes; by a devout fenfe of hisprefence, and a continual endeavour to acquire his grace and favour. Let us, with humble faith and reverence, commit ourfelves to the bleflcd Re- deemer of the world ; encouraged by the difcoveries which he has made to us of the divine mercy, and by the hopes which he has afforded us of being raifed to a nobler and happier fiation in the kingdom of God. So fliall virtue, grounded upon piety, attain its full ftre\)gth. Infpired with a religious fpirit, and guided by ra- tional principles, we ihall be enabled to hold a iteady courfe through this mixed region of pleafure and pain, of hopes and fears ; until the period arrWe, when that cloud, which the prefent vanity of the world throws over human aiTlvlrs, (liall entirely difappear, and eternal light be diiu-^cd overall the works> and ways of God. SERMON SERMON XXIIt On Death. Psalm xxiii, 4. Tea, though I watfi through the valley of the Jhadow of death, I wilt fear no evil; for thou art with tj^ ; thy rod and thy fhff they com- fort me. THIS Pfalm exhibits tlie pleafing pi^liire of a pious man rejoic- ing in the goodnefs of Heaven, He locks around him on his ftate, and his heart overflows with gratitude. When he re- views the paft part of his life, he contennplates G©d as his fiepherd, who hath made him lie down in green pafiures, and led him bejide the /}ill waters. When he confiders the prefent, he beholds his divine benefador preparing a table for him in the prefenceof his enemies, and making his cup run over. When he looks forward to the future, he confides in the fame goodnefs, as continuing to follow him all the days of his life, and bringing him to dwell In the houfe of the Lord for ever. Amidft thefe images of tranquillity and happinefs, one objed prefents itfelf, which is fufficient to overcaft the minds -and to damp the joy of the greateft part of men; that is, the approach of death. But on the Pfalm» ift it produced no fuch efFe6l. With perfecl: compofure and fere= iiity, he looks forward to the time when he is to pafs through the valley of the fhadow of death. The profpe6l, inftead of dejeding him, appears to heighten his triumph, by that fecurity which the pfefence of his almighty guardian afforded him. / will fear no e- vily for thou art with me : and purfuing the allufion with which h^ had begun, exults in the hope that the fhepherd who had hither- to conducT:ed him, would fupport him with \i\^f}aff, while he pafT- cd through that dark and perilous region, and with his rod, or paftoral crook, would guard him from every danger. Such is the happy diftindion which good men enjoy, in a fitua- Won the mofl formidable to human nature. That threatening- fpe^lre 24 ^'^ Death, fpec^re which appalls others, carries no terrour to them. While worldly men are jnfily faid through fear of Death to be all their I'lfe- iimsjubjcii to bondage, to the righteous only it belongs to look on death, and fmile. Since then it is in tlie power of religion to confer upon us To high a privilege, let us adventure to contemplate lieadily this laft foe wliom we muft all encounter. Let us confider what death is in irfelf, and by what means good men are enabled to meet it with fortitude. Though the fubjedl may be reckoned gloomy, it muft be admitted to be interefting. The clofe of life is a iblemn and important event, to which every wife man will have regard in the general tenour of his condud. No one can act his part with propriety, who confiders not how it is to termi- ilate ; and to exclude from cjr thoughts Vv'hat we cannot prevent from adually taking place, is the refuge of none but the timo- rous and weak. We are more encouraged to enter on this medita- tion, by refleding on the fuperiour advantages which, as Chrif- tians, we enjoy for overcoming the fear of death, beyond that holy man whofe fentiment is now before us. Thofe great ob- jecT;s, which he beheld through the medium of types and figures, are clearly revealed to us. Tliat difpenfation of grace, which in his days began to open, is now completed. That life and immor- tality, which then only dawned on the world, have now Ihone forth with full light and fplendour. Death may be coniidered in three views : as t!:e feparation of the foul from the body ; as the ccnclufion gf the prefent life ; as the entrance into a new ftate of exigence. In the firrt view, it is regarded as painful and agonizing. In the fecond, it is melan- choly and dejeaing. In the third, it is av.ful and alarming. One of the firft enquiries which occurs concerning it is, for what purpofcs it was clothed with all thefe terrours ? Why, under the government of amadous Being, the termination of life was load- ed with fo much forrow and diftrefs? We know that, in confe- quence of the fall, death was inflicled as apunifhment upon the human race. But no unnecelTary fcverities are ever exercifed by God ; and the wifdom and goodnefs of the divine plan will be much illuflrated, by obferving thatall the formidable circnmflances which attend death are, in the prefent fituation of mankind, abfolutely requifite to the proper government of the world. The terrours of ■^Oii Death. 25 bf death arc, in facl, the grejt guardians of life. They excite in every individual f!iat (jcfire of felf-prcfervation, which is nature's firfl law. They reconcile luai to bear the diitreffes of life with patience. They prompt him to undergo ils ufeful and necelfary labours with alacrity ; and they reArain him from many of thofis evil courfes by which his fafety would be endangered. While they are in (o many refpe^^s beneficial to the individual, they are, at the fame time, the fafeguard of fociety. If death were not dread- ed and abhorred as it is by men, no public order could be preferv- ed in the world. The fword of authority v;ere lifted up in vain. The fancfhons of law would loofe their eftecH:. The fcaflbki and thd executioner would be derided ; and the violent left to trample un- reftrained on the rights of the peaceful. If, notwithfianding the reltraints which feif-prefervation impofes, fociety is fo often dif- turbed by the crimes of the wicked, what a fcene of confufion would it become, if capital puniiliments, which are the lail refcurce of government, were of no influence to deter offenders? For fach important ends the conclufion of life has, by the ap- pointment of Providence, been made an awful object. The val- ley of death has been planted vvith terrours to the appreherfion of men. Here, as iii many other inflancfes, what feemed atfirfltonr- raign the goodnefs of the Deity, is upon enquiry found to confirm it. But though^ for the mod falutary purpofes, it v/as requifite that the fear of death fliould be a powerful principle in hijman na- ture, yet, like our ether propenfities, it is apt, when left to ir- felf, to rtin into excefs. Over many it iifurps luch an afcendanc as to debafe their charader, and to defeat the chief ends of living. To piTferve it within fuch bounds that it fliall riot interrupt us in performing the proper offices 2nd duties of life, is the didinclion of the brave man above the coward ; and to furmotint it in fuch a degree that it fhall not, even in near proipeft, dcjed our fpirir, or trouble our peace, is the great preference ^lich virtue enjoys above guilt. It has been the ftudy of the wife and relieving, in every age, to attain this fleadinefs tjf mind. Philofophy purfued it as its chief object ; and profelTed, that the great end of its difci- pline was, to enable its votaries to conquer the fear of death. Let iis then, before we have reccurfe to the more powerful aid of re- ligion, hearken for a little to what reafon has fuggefied on this iubjed. Tier alTiftance may. perhaps, be not entirely defpicable; "' D and a 6 On Death, and though the armour which flie offer?, be notcoiupletely of proofs it may ferve, however, to turn afide, or to blunt, feme of the ihafis which are aimed againft us by the laft foe. After this manner fiie may be fuppofed toaddrefs mankind, in order to reconcile them to their fate. — Children of men ! it is well known to you, that you are a mortal race. Death is the law of your nature, the tribute of your being, the debt which all are bound to pay. On thefe terms you received life, that you Ihould be rea- dy to give it up, when Providence calls you to make room for o- thers, who, in like manner, when their time is come, fhall follow you. He who is unv.'illing to fubmit to death when Heaven de- crees it, defcrves not to have lived. You might as reafonably complain, that you did not live before the liriif appointed for your coming into the world, as lament that you are not to live longer, when the period of your quitting it is arrived. What divine pro- vidence hath made neceffary, human prudence ought to comply with cheerfully. Submit at any rate you muft ; and is it not much better to follow of your own accord, than to be dragged reludant- ly, and by force ? W hat privilege have you to plead, or v\ hat rea- i'oi\ to urge, why you Oiould pcffefs .an exemption from the com- mon doom ? All things around ycm are mortal and perifliing. Ci- ties, dates, ^nd empires have their period fet. The proudcll: mo- nu;nentsof hum.an art moulder into duft. Even the works of na- ture wax old and decay. In the midft of this univerfal tendency to change, could you expe6l that to your frame alone a permanent duration (lionid be given? All who have gone before you have fnbmitted to the flroke of death. All who are to come after you, fliall undergo the lame fate. The great and the good, the prince and the peaiant, the renowned and the obfcure, travel alike the road which leads to the grave. At the moment when you expire, th.oufap.ds througlMit the world (liall, together with you, be yield- ing up their breath. Can that be held a great calamity which is common to you with every thing that lives on earth ; which is an event as much according to the courfe of nature, as it is that leaves (]]ould fall in autumn, or iliat fruit fliould drop from the tree when it is fully ripe ? The On Death. nv The pain of death cannot be veyy long, and is probably lefs fevere than what you have at other times experienced. The pomp of death is more terrifying than death itfelf. It is to the weaknefs of imagination, that it owes its chief power of dejed:ing your fpirits ; for when the force of the mind is roufed, there is almoftnopailion in our nature but what has fliowed itfelf able to o- vercome the fear of death. Honour has defied death; love has defpifed it ; fhame has rufhed upon it ; revenge has difregarded it ; grief athoufand times has wifiied for its approach. Is it not ftranire that reafon and virtue carmot give you itrength to fnrmount that fear, which, even in feeble minds, fo many pafTions have conquered? What inconfiflency is there in complaining fo much of the evils of life, and being at the fame time fo afraid of what is to terminate them all ? Who can tell whether his future life might not teem with difafters and miferies, as yet unknown, where it to be pro- longed accordingto his wifh ? At any rate, is it defirable to draw life out to the laft dregs, and to wait till old age pour upon you its whole ftore of difeafes and forrows? You lament that you are to die ; but did you view your fituation properly, you would have much greater caufe to lameiH if you were chained to this life for two or three hundred years, without pofTibility of releafe. Exped: therefore calmly that which is natural in itfelf, and which muft be fit, becaufe it is the appointment of Heaven. Perform your duty as a good fubjecl of the Deity, during the time allotted you ; and rejoice that a period is fixed for your difmiffion from the prefent warfare. Remember that the flavifh dread of death dellroys all the comfort cf that life which you feek to preferve. Better to undergo the ftroke oi- death at once, than to live in perpetual mifcry from the fear of dying. Such difcourfes as thefe are fpecious at leaft, and plaufible. The arguments are not without ftrength, and ought to produce fome effed on a confiderate reflecting mind. But k is to be fufped- ed that their effed: will be chiefly felt when the mind is cairn and at eafe; rather when fpecuiating upon death at a diftance, than when beholding it at hand. When the critical moment arrives which places the anxious, trembling foul on the borders of an un- known world, reafonings drawn from necefllty and propriety will be 28 On Death. b*e of ruiall avail to quiet its alarms. In order to afford relief, you iiiurf: give it hope ; yoa nmd proniife it proteclion ; you muft of- fer foaievvhat on which it can lay hold for lupport ainidil the ilrug- gles of labouring nature. Hence the great importance of thofe (lifcoveries which revelation has made, and of thofe principles with whicli it fortifies the heart. To the'confideration of thefe let us next proceed, and obferve their fuperior efficacy for furmounting the fear of death. In order to judge of their importance, it will he proper to take a view of death in each of thofe lights in which it appears mod formidable to mankind. It may be confidered, nrf!:, as the termination of our prefent exi;lence ; the final period of ail its joys and hopes. The conclud- in)und, or of the objefts which he met with there. The firi'l conception which fuggcds itfelf is, that the diiTetnbodied fpirir is to appear before its Creator, who is then to aft as its Judge. The ftrict inquifition which it muft undergo, the impartial duoai which it muft hear pronounced, and the un- alterable fcate to vvhich it (liall be affigned, are awful forms rifing before the imagination. They are ideas which con fcience forces up- on all. Mankind can neither avoid confidering themfelves as ac- countablecreatures, nor avoid vievvino death as thefeafon when their jicconnt is to be ci^'cn. Such a fentiment is with mou men the fource of dread; Vv'ith all men, of anxiety. To a certain degree a good confcience will convey comfort. The refleclion on a well- fpent life makes a wide dilFerence between the laft moments of the righteous and the (inner. But whofe confcience is fo clear as to flrike him with no remorfe ? Whofe righteoufncfs is fo unble- miflied as to abide the fcrutiny of the great fearcher^of hearts? Vv'ho dares rcfi: his evcrlafting fate upon his perfect conformity to the rule of duty throughout the whole of his life? We muft not judge of the fcntiments of men at the approach of death bv their ordinary train of thou(rht in the days of health and eafe. Their views of moral conduvSl are then, too generally, fuperficial ; flight cxcufes fatisfy their minds, and the avocations oriife prevent tlieir attention fron) dwelling long on difagreeable fubjccls. But when altogether withdrawn from the affairs of the world, they are left to their own rcHeaions on paft conduft ; with their * Jerem, xlix. ii. On Death. 3I their fpirits enfeebled by direnfe, and their minds imprefTed with the terrours of an invilible region ; the mofc refolute are apt to de- fpond, and even the virtuous are in danger of fir.king under the re- membrance of their errours and frailties. The trembling mind carts every where around an anxious exploring eye after any pow- er that can uphold, any mercy that Vv'ill fliield and fave it. And accordingly we fee how eagerly every device has been embraced which fuperftition could invent in various countries, for quieting the alarms of the depardng fpirit* Here appears the great importance of thofe dlfcovenes vvhicn Chriftianity has made concerning the government of the univerfe. It difplays the enfigns of grace and clemency. It reveals the Al- mighty not as a creator only and a judge, but as a compaiTionate parent, who knows our frame j who remembers we are duji, who pi- ties us as a father pitieth his children; and with whom there is forgiv- nefsy that he may be loved as well as feared, Thefe general views, however, of the divine adniinillration would not have been fuflici- ent to give full relief, if they had not been confirmed by certain decidve fadls to which the mind can appeal amidH all its doubts and fears. Two fuch fa6ls the gofpel holds forth to us, particularly adapted to the (ituatioJi of human nature in its greateft extremity; the atonement, and the intercefiion of Chrift. There is no fenti- ment more natural to men than this, that guilt mud be expiated by fuffering. All government is^ founded on the principle, that public juftice requires compenfation for crimes; and all religions proceed upon the belief, that, in order to the pardon of the fin- ner, atonement mufl: be made to the juliice of heaven. Hence the endlefs variety of facrifices, vidims, and expiations which have fill- ed the earth. The great facrifice which our Redeemer offered for guilt, coincides with thefe natural fentiments of mankind in giving eafe to the heart. It iliows us the forfeit of guilt paid by a divine perfonage in our behalf; and allov^s us to look up to the Governor of the world, as merciful to the guilty in conliften- cy with julficc and order. But If ill fome anxiety might remain concerning the extenfion of that mercy to our own cafe in parti- cular. An invifible fovereign is an awful idea : almighty, unknown power, is always formidable, and would be ready to overwhelm the fpirit of th.e feeble, were not an interceHor with that fovereign revealed. 32 Cn Death* revealed. This intercefior is one who lived aiid acted in our owfj nature; who not only knows, but who experienced our frailty ; who has all the feelings of a brother for human infirmity and dif- trefs; who himfelf pafTed through that valley of the f''>adoiv of death which is now opening on us ; to whofe powerful mediation with his Father we have every encouragement to commit the charge of our departing fpirir. Such is the provifion which Chriftianity has made for conu'orting the laft hours of mr.n. The atonement^ and the iiiterceiiion ofChrift,are the refuge of the penitent (inner, and the confolation of the faint. By their means the throne of the u- niverfe is encircled with mercy. The cloud which hung over the juvifible world begins to be difpcrfed; and hope brightens through the gloom,* But what completes the triumph of good men over death is, the profpecl of eternal felicity. This was the great objed after which all nations have fighed, as the only complete remedy both of the miferies of life and the fears of death. On this, the learned and the ignorant, the civilizeti and the favage tribes of mankind bent their lorging eyes; eagerly grafping at every argument, and fondly indulging every hope, that could promife them a propitious Deiry, and the prolongation of exigence in a happier ftate. But beyond wiilics and feeble expeftations, the light of nature could hardly reach. Even the mod cultivated, philofophical mind was, at tlie hourof difTolution, left in painful fufpence. Chrifiianity has put an end to all hcfitation and doubt on this important fubjed:. It has drawn afide the veil through v\ hich reafon effayed to pene- trate ; and has difplayed to full view the future dwellings of the fpirits of the jurt, the mai^.fions of everlafting reft, the city of the living Cod. Not only has it informed us that a ftate of perfed: fe- licity is prepared for the righteous, but it has adtled to this infor- mation a variety of circumiiances which render that ftate fenfible to our imaal fituation on the other, a- rifi? much of the difquiet, and much of the infelicity, of human life. It is only in heaven that the tranquil repofe, which on earth is no more than a pleafing phantom, fhall be fully realized. There, remahieth at hft a rcfr for the people of God ; relt from the difturb- ance of pafhon, the vanity of purfuit, and the vexation of difap- pointment ; reft from all the ftns and the forrows of this miferable world ; reft, which fhall not be merely an indolent cefTation from labour, hut a full and fatisfying enjoyment. Good menfJjdll rejl irom their lahwsj and theirivorks pall follow them. They have come Rev, viii. 13, 14. of a Future State, 47 come out of great tribulation. They have fulfilled, with honour, their appointed courfe of trial. They hjve fat down in the feat of tlie Conqueror ; and of paft labours nothing remains but the pleaf- incr review, and the happy fruits. There is ftill to be confidered, VI. One very material circumftance, defcriptive both of the character, and of the happinefs, of thofe who enjoy the heavenly blifs. Not only have they come out of great trlbu/atlon, but, as the Spirit of God adds in explaining the text, they have wa/hed their robes J and made them luhite In the blood of the Lamb.* Two things are here fuggefted ; the fan«5lity of the bleffed, and the means by which it is attained. Firit, their fandlity or purity is emblematically defcribed, by their being clothed in robes which are wafhed and made white. In order to qualify human nature for the enjoyment of fuch happinefs as I have endeavoured to defcribe, it mufl undergo a change {o great, as to receive in Scripture the appellation of a new birth; a change to which all the inftitutions of religion, and all the ope- rations of grace, contribute in this life, but which is not complet- ed till the next. In this fanclity, or regeneration, confift not on- ly the neceffary preparations for future felicity, bur, which is not fo commonly attended to, confifts an elTential part of that felicity itfelf. For whence arifes the milery of this prefent world ? It is not owing to our cloudy atmofphere, our changing feafons, and inclement Ikies. It is not owing to the debility of our bodies, or to the unequal diftribution of the goods of fortune. Amidft all difadvantages of this kind, a pure, a ftedfaft, and enlightened mind, poUefTed of exalted virtue, could enjoy itfelf in peace, and fmile at the impotent aflaults of fortune and the elements. It is within ourfelves that mifery has fixed its feat. Our difordered liearts, our guilty palTions, our violent prejudices, and niifplaced defires, are the inflruments of the torment which we endure. Thefe (harpen the darts which adverfity would otherwife point in vain againft us. Thefe are the vials of wrath which pour forth plagues on the inhabitants of the earth ; and make the dwellings of nations become the abodes of woe. Thence difcontent and remorfe gnaw the hearts of individuals. Thence fociety is torn by open violence, or undermined by fecret treiichery; and man is transformed into a favage to man. * Rev, viii. 14, Buc 4 8 Oh the Happhiefs But fuppofe fin to be banHhed from the world ; fuppofe perfcift purity and charity to cielcend Ircrrs heaven, and to ai-imate every human breaft ; and you would behold the prefent habitation ot men changed into the pnradife of God. The undifturbed enjoy, nient of a holy niind, and of a bhfsful union with one another, would fcarcely allow us lo feel thofe exteruc] evils of which we now fo loudly complain. All nature would afTume a different ap- pearance around us. That golden age which was fo long the fub- jecl of tlic phiiofopher's dream, and of the poet's fong, would in fadl take place. According to the beautiful language of ancient prophecy, fprmgs would then rife in the ^efert, and rivers he opened in the thirjty land. The -wiUtrnefs and the foUtary place would he glad. The wolf would d^jjll with the lamh, and the leopard lie down with the kid. Judgment would dwell in the wildernejs, and righte- oufnefs remain in the fruitful field. The defert would rejoice, and hloffom as the rofe. — If fuch, even in this world, would be the effects of innocence and virtue completely reltored, how much greater mull they be in that weu> earth, and thofe new heavens, where redirude of nature ihall be combined with every circumftance of external felicity > It is the prefent imperfect ftate of human virtue that hinders us from conceiving fully the influence of right- eoufnefs upon happinefs. The robes in which the beft men are now clothed, to ufe the language of the text, are fullied with fo many (fains, as to convey no adequate idea of the original beauty which belongs to the garb of righteoufnefs. But when thefe (iains fhall be wafned away, when thefe robes Ihall be made perfectly white and pure, a luftre will flow from them, of which we can as yet form no conception. But how are the robes of the blefled thus waflied ? Whence \% derived that fpotlefs purity in which they are arrayed? The Spirit of God hath anfwered us, from the blood of the Lamh ; leading our thoughts to that higli difpenfation of mercy, to which the faints above owe their eftabliftiment, firft in grace, and then in glory. From that bloud which \\2i% pcedjor the remiffion of fins ^ flow both the atonement of hun:an guilt, and the generation of human na- ture. Human nature had fallen too low to be capable of retrieving itfelf. It could not regain its primitive innocence, and liill lefs was capable of raifing ufelf fo high in the icale of exigence as te mingle with angels. We had neither fufficicnt knowledge to dif- cover, nor virtue to merit, nor ability to qualify ourfelvesfor en- joying o/' a Future State, 49 joying, celeftial glory. Heaven muft have been either covered from our view by perpetual darknefs, or only beheld from afar as an inaccefTible region, if Chrilt had not interpol'ed to optnfoT us a neiu and living way within the veil. The obligations which uis generous undertaking, has conferred upon the human race, will teud highly to increafe the felicity of the blelTed. The Icnfe of being diftinguiflied by fo illuitrious a benefador, and the correlpondiog returns of gratitude and love to him, form fome ofthemoft pleaf- ingof thofe emotions which itiall continue to delight them through all eternity. From thofe views of a ftate of future happiuefs which the text has fuggefted, various inftrudions relating to life and pradlice naturally arife. We are taught to redlify our notions of feliciiy j to look for it, not in what is external, but in what relates to the mind and heart ; in good difpofitions and a purified foul ; in uni- ty and friendiliip with one another, and in the divine prefence and favour. If fuch things form the principal articles of future blifs, they cannot but be elTential to our happinefs in the more early pe- riods of exiftence ; and he who feeks his chief enjoyment from an oppofite quarter, errs widely from the path which conduds to fe- licity. We are farther taught whence to derive conftancy and perfe^ verance, amidft the prefent difcouragements of a virtuous life. In this world, we often behold good men deprefTed, and the wicked profpering around us. Our beft deeds meet with unjuft returns from an ungrateful world. Sincerity is over-reached by craft, and innocence falls a v!(^im to power. But let us not on fuch oc- eafions fay within ourfcives, that in vain we have ckanfed our hearts^ andviafloed our hands in innocency. Let us reft on the aflfurance, that thefe diforders extend not far in the kingdom of God. l^hey affed only the firft flage of exiftence. They relate to difcipline and trial, which will icon be finilhed. In that permanent ftate^ which is about to open, anew and better order of things fhall arife. When deje,5led with the evils of life, let as look upward to that happy multitude who have come out of great tribulation, and nonv/fand before the throne. Until the day arrrive which fliall join us to that bleifed aiTembly, let as fliew ourrelves worthy of the hope that is before us, by fupporting, with a conftjnt mind, the trials of our fidelity. Be patient ; ftablij}-) your hearts^ Th coming cf the Lord *!ravjeih nigh. G Froru ,£6 Ca the HcJpptnefsy 6c^ From the profpeifls which the text has afforded, We may like* Tvife learn what the fpirit is which fliould regulate our life. Sanc- tity of condudl, dignity of charader, elevation of affections, be- come thofe who expect to mingle with angels, and fpirits of jufi men mads fcrfcfl. I mean not that fuch profpeiSts fhould carry away our wliole attention from the prefent world, where undoubt- edly lies the chief fcene of human adion, and human duty. But while we ad: as inhabitants of the earth, we ought at the fame time fo to remember our connexion with a better world, as not to debafe ourfelves with what is mean, not to defile ourfelves with w hat is impure, not to entangle ourfelves among what is enfnaring, in the prefent ftate. Let neither its advantages elate, nor its dif- appointments deject us; but with an equal fpirit, with a mind full of immortality^ let us pafs through all the changes of this mortal life. Finally, let the dilcoveries of future happinefs infpire us with fuitable gratitude to God and Chrift ; to the eternal Father, who originally decreed fuch rewards for the righteous ; and to the Son, who ads in the high chardi^rr of the Difpenfer of the divine mer* cies, and the great Reftorer of the fallen race of men. Particu- larlarly, when approaching to God in folemn ads of devotion, fuch as we are at this day to perform, let gratitude be alive and ardent in our heart. The commemoration of our Saviour's death is in a high degree fuited to awaken every emotion of tendernefs and love. It brings before us, under one view, all the obligations which we lie under to this great benefador of mankind. When juft ready to fuffer for our fake, he inftituied this holy facrament, and faid, Do this in remembrance of me, — Whom, O bleffed Jefus! fhall we ever remember, if we are capable of forgetting Thee? Thee, to whom we owe the forgivenefs of fin, and the reQcration of di- vine favour ; our vidory over death, and eur hope of life eternal ! Thou haft enlarged our views beyond thefe territories of diforders and dirknefs. Thou haft difcovered to us the city of the living God» Thou fetteft open the gates of that new Jerufalem; and leadeft us into the path of life. Thou from age to age gathereft out of every fiatlon, and kindred, and people, that multitude which f land before the throne. Thou bringeit ihem out of great tribulation. Thine are the while robes with which they are inverted ; thine, the palms which they bear; and by Thee they are placed under the light of the divine countenance for ever, S E R- C 5« 1 SERMON XXV. On candour. I Corinth, xiii. 5, Chanty — ihinketh no evil. RELIGION and Government are the two great foundations- of order and comfort among mankind. Government re- ftrains the outrages and crimes which would be fubverfive of fo- ciety, fecures the property and defends the lives of its fubjefts. But the defedt of government is, that human laws can extend no farther than to the adions of men. Though they protedt us from external violence, they leave us open on different fides to be wounded. By the vices which prevail in fociety, our tranquillity may be difturbed, and our lives in various ways embittered, while government can give us no redrefs. Religion fupplies the infuiE- ciency of law, by ftriking at the root of thofe diforders which oc- cafion fo much mifery in the world. Its profeffed fcope is to re- gulate, not adions alone, but the temper and inclinations. By this means it afcends to the fources of condu6l; and very ineffec- tual would the wifefl fyftem of legiflation prove for the happinefs of mankind, if it did not derive aid from religion, in foftening the difpofitions of men, and checking many of thofe evil paffions to which the influence of law cannot poffibly reach. We are led to this reflection by the defcription given in the con- text of charity, that great principle in the Chriftian fyflem. The Apoftle places it in a variety of lights, and under each of them explains its operation by its internal effects ; not by the adlions to which it gives rife, but by the difpofitions which it produces in the heart. He juftly fuppofes, that if the temper be duly regulated, propriety of adion will follow, and good order take place in ex- ternal behaviour. Of thofe charadlers of charity I have chofeii one for the fubjeii ; and, on many occallons, to cxprefs our indignation openly againft it. But the Apoflle, with great propriety, defcribes the temper which he is recommending in fuch (trong and general terms, as might guard us againft that ex- treme to which we are naturally moli prone, of raHi and unjult fufpicion. The virtue which he means to inculcate is that which is known by the name of Candoiir; a virtue, which, as foon as it is mentioned, every one will acknowledge to be elTential to the character of a worthy man ; a virtue which we feldom fail of af- cribinfr to any perfon whom we feek to recommend to the eacem of others ; but which, I am afraid, when we examine our own conduct in a religious view, is feldom the fubjeci: of inquiry. It isneceiTary to obferve, that true Candour is altogether different from that guarded, inofFenfive language, and that ftudied open- nefs of behaviour, which we fo frequently meet with among men of the world. Smiling, very often, is the afpe(5l, and imooth are the words, of thofe who inwardly are the moll ready to think evil of others. That Candour which is a Chriltian virtue, confifls not in fairnefs of fpeech, but in fairnefs of heart. It may want the blandifhment of external conrtefy, but fupplies its place with hu- mane and generous liberality of fentiment. Its manners are un- affected, and i;s profefiioris Ci)rdial. Exempt, on one hand, from the dark jealoufy of a fufpicious mind; it is no lels removed, on the ether; from ihat eafy credulity which is imnofcd on by every fpecious On Candour. i^-^ fpecious pretence. It is perfedly confident with extenfive knovv- lecl^re of the world, and with due attention to our own fafe- ty. In that various intercourfe which we are obliged to carry on with perfons of every different charader, fufpicion, to a certain degree, is a necefTary guard. It is only when it exceeds the bounds of prudent caution, that it degenerates into vice. There is a proper mean between undiftinguifhing credulity, and univer- fal jealoufy, which a found underlhnding difcerns, and which the man of Candour ftudies to preferve. He makes allowance for the mixture of evil with good, which is to be found in every human charader. He expeds none to be faultlefs ; and he is unwilling to believe that there is any without fome commendable quality. In the midft of many defects, he can difcover a virtue. Under the influence of perfonal refentment, he can be juft to the merit of an enemy. He never lends an o- pen ear to thofe defamatory reports and dark fuggeftions, which, among the tribes of the cenforious, circulate with fo much rapi- dity, and meet with fuch ready acceptance. He is not hafty to judge, and he requires full evidence before he will condemn. As long as an aflion can be afcribed to different motives, he holds it as no mark of fagacity to impute it always to the word. Where there is jufl: ground for doubt, he keeps his judgment undecid- ed ; and, during the period of fufpenfe, Jeans to the mod cha- ritable conftrudion which an action can bear. When he muft condemn, he condemns with regret ; and without thofe aggrava- tions which the feyerity of others adds to the crime. He liftens calmly to the apology of the offender, and readily admits every extenuating circumftance which equity can fugged. How much focver he may blame the principles of any fed: or party, he never confounds, under one general cenfure, all who belong to that party or fed. He charges them not with fuch confequences of their tenets, as they refufe and difavow. From one wrong opi- nion, he does not infer the fubverfion of all found principles ; nor, from one bad adion, conclude that all regard to confcience is o- verthrown. When he beholds the mote in his brotber''s eye^ he re- members the beam in his oujn. He commiferates human frailty ; and judges of others according to the principles by which he would think it reafonable that they faould judge of him. In a word, he views men and adions in the clear funfhine of charity and good -nature ; ^4 ^w Candour^ good- nature ; and not in that dark and Tullen fliade which jealoufy and pdrty-fpirit throw over all characi:ers. — Such being in general the fpirit of that charily which thlnkcth no evil, I proceed, II. To recommend by various arguments, this important branch of Chriftian virtue. Let us begin with obfcrving what a neceffary requifite it is to the proper difcharge of all the focial duties. 1 need not fpend time in fliowing that thefe hold a very high rank in the Chriftiaii fyilein. The encomium which the Apoftle in this chapter be- ilovvs upon charity, is alone fufficient to prove it. He places thii grace at the head of all the gifts and endowments which can be polTefled by man ; and alTures us, that though we had all faith fo that vjs could renKTje ?nountalns, yet if we be dellitute of charity, it will profit us nothing. Accordingly, lr/vc,gcntlenefs , meeknefs^ and long- Ji^ffcnngj are enumerated as difiinguifliing fruits of the fpirit of Chrift.* But it is impoiTible for fuch virtues as thefe to find place in a breaft, where the propenfity to think evil of others is predo- minant. Charitable and candid thoughts of men are the neceflary introduction to all good-will and kindnefs. They torm, if we may fpeak fo, the only climate in which love can grow up and flourifh. A fufpicious temper checks in the bud every kind affec- tion. It hardens the heart, and ellranges man from man. What friendfhip cr gratitude can you expect from him, who views all your condu6l with diftruftful eyes, and aicribes every benefit you confer to artifice and ftratagem? The utmofl v/hich you can hope from one of this char:i6ler, is juftice in his dealings ; nor even that can you hz allured of; as the fufpicions to which he is a prey will afford him frequent pretexts for departing from truth, and for defending himfelf with the fame arms which he conceives to be employed againft hifu. Unhappy will they be who are joined with him by any clofe connexion; expofed to every malignant fiifpicion which arifes in his own mind, and to every unjuft fug- geflion which the malice of others may infmuate againft them. That ftore of poifon which is colleded within him, frequently throws out its venom on all who are within its reach. As a com- panion, he will be fevere and fatirical ; as a friend, captious and dangerous ; in his domeftic fphere, harlh, jealous, and irafcible ; in his civil capacity, feditioqs and turbulent, prone to impute the » ^ / coi¥lu£i * Cat. V. 22, 23. ^n Candour. ^5 coni^ucft of his fuperiours to improper iLotives, and upon Icofc in- formation to condemn their conduct. The contrary of all this may be expe by its benign interpofition, allays them when arifen. In the roa- giftrate, it tempers juftice with lenity. Among fubje ihy/elf merciful ; and with the froward, thou wilt fhow thyfelf fro- ivard. J'/ith what judgment ye judge, ye //.'a!/ he judged ; and with what meafureye mete, it fnall he meajured to you again, f It isim- poflible to form an argument of more force than this, to reftrain all feverity of judgment among fuch as look forward to the tribunal cf Cod. The arguir^ent extentis not indeed fo far, as to repre- fent our acceptance with the Deity as entirely fufpended upon the candour which we llunv in forming our fentiments of others. We know that other graces befides this are requifite, in order to fit nS for heaven ; and that w ithout piety towards God, and faith in the Lord Jefus Chrifr, all our charity to men will be found defective and vain. But this we know alfo, that in the heart which is i]e[- titute of fjirnefs and candour, the Spirit of God certainly dv/ells not; and that whatever appearances of religion the uncharitablg man * Rom. xiv. 4, I Cor, iv. 5. f Pfalm, xviii. ^5; 26. Matt. vii. s\ 0-n Candour t y^ man may aiTiime, on him the Sovereign of the nniverfe looks with no favour. — Thou who nrt a man full of frailties, whoftandeft in need, not merely of impartiality in thy divine Judge, but of in- dulgence and mercy : Thou who implcrelt daily this mercy from Him, and prayeft that He would rethcmkr thou art dvjj, and not be ftrid: to mark iniquity agawji thee ; darfft thou, with thofe ve- ry prayers in thy mouth, proceed to judge without candour of thy brethren, and upon the flighteft grounds to reprobate and con- demn them ? O thou hypocrite ! (for by what other name can we call thee?) vain are all thy pretenficns to piety. Ineffedual is e- very plea which thou canft form for mercy from heaven. The precedent which thou haft eftablifhcd againft thyfelf is decifive. Thou haft didbted the fentence of thine own condemnation. On the whole, it clearly appears that no part of the govern- raent of temper deferves attention more, than to keep our minds pure from uncharitable prejudices, and open to candour and hu- manity in judging of others. The worft confequences, both to ourfelves and to fociety, follow from the oppofiie fpirit. Let us beware of encouraging a habit of fufpicion, by forming too fe- Vere and harfii opinions concerning human nature in general. A great proportion of infirmity aud corruption, doubtlefs, adheres to it ; yet tempered alfo it is with various mixtures of virtue and good afFedion. Darkened as the Divine image now is among mankind, it is not wholly effaced. Much piety and goodnefsmay lie hidden in hearts that are unknown to us. Vice is glaring and Joud. The crimes of the wicked make a noife in the world, and alarm fociety. True worth is retired and modeft, and requires par- ticular fituations to bring it forth to public notice. The prophet Elijah, in a time of prevailing corruption, imagined that all true religion had forfaken the land. /, even I only j faid he to the Lord, am left to ferve thee. But the Almighty, who difcerned what was concealed from his imperfed view, replied, Tet have 1 left me [even thoufand men in Ifrad i^ho have not bo-ved the knee /* Baal.'' The aged and the unfortunate, who have toiled through an un- fuccefsful life with long experience of the falfehood and fraud of evil men, are apt to be the moli ftvere in the opinions which they entertain of others. For fuch, their circumftances may be allow- * X Kirgs, xix. 14, 18, cd 74 ^« Candwr. ed to form fome degree of apology. But if, in youth and profp^- rity, the fan)e hard fufpiciousfpirit prevail ; if they who are begin- ning the career of life fet out with all the fcruples of diftruft ; if, before they have had reafon to complain of the world, they be- tray the diffidence of a jealous, and the malignity of a cenforious mind, fad is the prefage which may thence be drawn of their future honour. From fuch, you have nothing to look for that fliall be either engaging in private life, or refpedlable in public character. To youth it particularly belongs to be generous in fentiment, can- did in opinion, undefigning in behaviour, open tothemoft favour- able conftruclion of anions and conduft. Throughout all the ftages of life, candour is one of the moft honourable diftindions of the human chara(fler ; it is connected with magnanimity ; it isjuftifi- ed by wildom ; itisfuitable to the relation in which weftandto one another. But if reafon and humanity be infufficient to reftrain us from rafli and uncharitable judgments, let that awful denunciation frequently refound in our ears. He floall have judgment without mercy litho hath Jheiued no mercy ^ SERMON I 75 3 SERMON XXVL On the Character of J o s e p h. G E N E s I s, xlv. 5, 8. No-iu therefore be not grieved nor ar.gry -with yourftlves thai ye fdd me hither ; for Gcd did fend me before you to preferve hfe, — 5a mw It was not you that fent me hither, but Cod. IN this generous manner, Jofeph frames an apology for the nn* natural behaviour of his brethren. He extenuates the atrocity of their crime, by reprefenting the happy eft'eds which it had pro- duced. He looks beyond ali fecond csufes; and recognizes, in the wonderful events of his life, the hand of the Almighty. — No human charafter, exhibited in the records of Scripture, is more remarkable or indrudive than that of this patriarch. He is one whom we behold tried in all the vicifiitudes of fortune ; from the condition of a flave, rifing to be ruler of the land of Egypt ;' and in every ftation acquiring, by his vii tue and wifdom, favour with God and man. When overfeer of Potiphar's houfe, his fidelity- was proved by ftrong temptations, which he honourably refified. "When thrown into prifon by the artifice of a falfe woman, his in- tegrity and prudence foon rendered him confpicuous, even in that dark manfion. When called into the prefence of Pharoah, the wife and extenfive plan which he formed for laving the kingdom from the miferies of in)pending famine, jufily railed him to a high fiation, wherein his abilities were eminently difplayed in the pub- lic fervice. Bat in his whole hiftory there is no circumftance fo ftriking and interefting, as his behaviour to his brethren who had fold him into (lavery. The m.oment in which he made himfelf known to them, that moment at which we are now to contemplate him, was the mod critical one of his life, and the moft decifive of his character. It is fuch as rarely occurs in the courfe of huiuarj events; and is calculated to draw the high^il attention of sU who I are ^6 On the Chara6icr are endowed with any degree of fenfibility of heart. Let us ccfi- fider the fentiment w hich J ofeph utters in the text under two views, each of which is very inftrudive to all Chriftians. I. As a difco- Very of his cordial forgivenefs of his brethren ; and, II. As an inftance of his dutiful attention to the Providence of God. I. The mod cordial forgivenefs is here difplayed. I fnall not recapitulate all the preceding hiflory refpeding Jofeph and his brethren ; as it is well known by every one who has the leaft ac- quaintance with the facred writings. From the whole tenour of the narration it appears that though Jofeph, upon the arrival of his brethren in Egypt, made himfelt ftrange to them, yet from the beginning he intended to difcover himielt ; and ftudied fo to conduct the difcovery as might render the furprife of joy complete. For this end, by affected feverity, het^ok meafures for bringing^ down into Egypt all his father's children. They were now arriv- ed there; and Benjamin among the reft, who was his younger brother by the fame mother, and was particularly beloved by Jofeph. Him he threatened to detain ; and feemed willing to al- low the reft to depart. This incident renewed their diftrefs. They all knew their father's extreme anxiety about the fafety of Ben- jaminj and witji what difficulty he had yielded to his undertak- ing this journey. Should he be prevented from returning, they dreaded that grief would overpower the old man's fpirits, and prove fatal to his life. Judah, therefore, who had particularly urged the necefTity of Benjamin's accompanying his brothers, and had folemnly pledged himfelf to their father for his fafc return^ craved. Upon this occafion, an audience of the governor; and gave him a full account of the circumftances of Jacob's family. Nothing can be more interefting and pathetic than this difcourfc of Judah, as it is recorded in the preceding chapter. Little knowing to whom he fpoke, he peints, in all the colours of fimple and natural eloquence, the diftrelTed fituation of the aged patriarch, haftening to the clofe of life; long sfflidted for the lofs of a fa- vourite fon, whom he iupppofed to have been tern in pieces by a beaft of prey ; labouring now under anxious concern about his youngeft fon, the child of his old age, who alone was left alive »)f his mother, and whom nothing but the calamities of fevere fa- mine tfjofipb. 77 mine could have moved a tender father to fend from home, and ex. pofe to the dangers of a foreign land* " If we bring him not back '^ with us, we fliall bring down the grey hairs of thy fervant, *' our father, with forrow, to the grave. I pray thee therefore " let thy fervant abide inftead of the young man, a bondman to *' our lord. For how fhall I go up to my father, and Benjamia '* not with me? left I fee the evil that (liall come on my father," Upon this relation, Jofeph could no longer reftrain himfelf. The tender ideas of his father and of his father's houfe, of his ancient home, his country and his kindred, of the diftrefs of his family, and his own exaltation, allrufhed too ftrongly upon his mind to bear any further concealment. He cried ^ caufe every man to go out from me ; and he wept aloud. The tears which he fhed were not the tears of grief. They were the burft of affediion. They were the efTufions of a heart overflowing with all the tender fenfibilities of nature. Formerly he had been moved in the fame manner, whea he firft fa w his brethren before him . His bowe/s yearned upon them ; he fought for a place where to weep. He went into his chamber; and then wafhed his face and returned to them. At that period his gene» rous plans were not completed. But now, when there was no far- ther occafion for conftraining himfelf, he gave free vent to the ftrorig emotions of his heart. The firft minifter to the king of Egypt w as not afhamed to fhow, that he felt as a man, and a brother. He wept aloud, and the Egyptians, and the houfe of Pharoah heard him^ The firft words which his fwclling heart allowed him to pronounce, are the moft fui table to fuch an affeding fituation which were e- ver uttered; — lam Jofeph j doth my father yet live ? — What could he, what ought he, in that impaffioned moment, to have faid more ? This is the voice of nature herfelf, fpeaking her own lan- guage ; and it penetrates the heart : No pomp of exprefTion ; no parade of kindnefs ; but ftrong affe(Sion haftening to utter what it ftrongly felt. His brethren could not anfwer him; for they were troubled at his prefence. Their filence is as expreffivc of thofe emo- tions of repentance and fliame, which, on this amazing difeovery, filled their breafts, and ftopped their utterance, as the few words which Jofeph fpeaks are exprefTive of the generous agitations which ftruggled for vent within him. No painter could feize a more ftriking moment for difplaying tlie eharacteriftical features of 7? On the Charadcr of ths liuaian heart, than what is here preiented. Never was there a fituation of more tender and virtuous joy, on the one hand ; nor, on the other, of more overwhehning confufion and confcious guilt. In the fimple narration of the facred biftorian, it is fee before us with greater energy and higher eftecl, than if it had been wrought up with all the colouring of the mod adniired modern eloquence. When Jofeph had a little recovered himfelf from the firft tran- fports of emotion, he proceeds to explain his fituation to his bre- thren, and to Hiow them the beneficent purpofes for which ha conceived himfelf to be raifed by Providence into power. The a- pology which he makes in the text for their former cruelty is un- common and remarkable. *' Now therefore be not grieved nor " angry with yourfelves that ye fold me hither ; for God did fend *' me before you to preferve you a pofterity in the earth, and to '* fave your lives by a great deliverance. So now it was not *' you that fent me hither, but God ; and he hath made me a fa- *^ iher to Pharoah, and lord of all his houfe, and a ruler through- *' out all the land of Egypt.'' This apology was, in truth, no fatisfadory excufe for their crime. Fi)r though the over- ruling Providence of Heaven had fo directed the courfe of events, as to render their bad intentions fubfervient to a happy ilTue ; yet the badnefs of the intention originated entirely from themfelves. The envy and jealoufy which they entertained againft their brother, led thein to the cornmifTion of an atrocious deed. The deed was voluntary; the crime was all their own ; and the interpofition of Providence, in making unforefeen confequences follow from that crime, did not, could not exculpate them from guilt. It were an impious conclufion, that becaufe God extracts good from our evil, we are not anfwerable for the evil which we perpetrate. Cod cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.* But the fenti- ment in the text is to be confidered, as a colour which the gene- rous humanity of Jofeph prompted him to throw on the conduct of his brethren. He faw the confufion with which they were over- whelmed in his prefence. He diverts their attention from the remembrance of a crime which was now wringing their hearts •with anguifl]; by reprefenting to them* the happy cfFeds which that * Jamej, i, 13, of Jofeph. 79 that crime had produced. He fets theai free from all uneafinefs on his account. He calls upon them to rejoice in his profperity j and, inftead of dwelling on a painful recoUeftion of their own con- duct, to join with him in acknowledging and adoring the hand of tlie Almighty. How different is this amiable fpirit which Jofeph difcovers, from that harfli and oftentatious fuperiority which too often accompa- jiies the pretended forgivenefs of injuries among thofe who call themlelves Chriftians! They are ready to fay, that, for their part, they pardon the wrongs which have been done them ; they wifli that the perfons who have committed them may be able to forgive themfelves ; they leave them to God and to their own confcience. By the fevere fuggeftions which they throw out, they difcover the inw*rd bitternefs of their fpirit ; and artfully gratify refentment, at the time when they profefs to exercife forgivenefs. Whereas the great and good man, whofe charader we now confider, effac- es all memory of the crimes which he pardons. He feeks to al- leviate the remorfe of his brethren by an extenuation of their guilt • and, while he is preparing to make their circumftances comforta- ble, ftudies at the fame time to render their minds eafy and tran- quil. This was not merely a tranfient emotion with Jofeph, owing to the firft burd of affection on difcovering himfelf to his brethren. We have a clear proof, from a remarkable tranfadlion which paffed many years after this period, of his difpofition continuing the fame to the end of life. It is recorded in the laft chapter of this book, that when Jacob died, his fons began to be feized with fear concerning the treatment which they might receive from their bro- ther. The guilty are always fufpicious. Confcious of their own bafenefs, they are incapable of conceiving the magnanimity of o- thers. They faw the bond, which held the family together, now broken by their father's death. They dreaded that the refent- ment of Jofeph againft them had hitherto been only fupprelled, or concealed . They f aid among themfelves ^ per adventure he wil/m-dj hate us, and requite all the evil which we did unto him. Under this apprehenfion, they firft fent a humble meffage to deprecate his dif- pleafure by the memory of their common father ; and then appear- ing in his prefence, they fell dov/n before his face, profeffing themfelves 5^0 Ott the Characfer themfelves to be his ferrants, and praying him to forgive the tref- pafs which they had committed againft him. But no fuch hidden refentment as they dreaded had ever lurked in the foul of Jofeph. On the contrary, when he beheld his brethren in this afFefting fi- tuation, bereaved of their ancient protestor, and reduced, as they imagined, to tlie necediry of holding up their hands to him for mercy, he was overpowered by a tide of tender emotions. Jofeph vept, while his hrethroi fpah unto him. Thefe afTedionate tears nlone were fnfficient to have afTured them of his torgivenefs. But haftenincr alfo by words to difpel their alarms, he prefently added, '^ Fear nf)t : for though you thought evil againft me, God meant '^ it unto good. Now therefore fear ye not ; I will nourifli you " and your little ones. And he comforted them and fpake *' kindly unto them.''* Such was the laft incident that is recorded in the life of this e- minent perfonagc, than whom you will find few more diftinguifli- fd by an aiTemblage ofilluUrious virtues; in the lowed adverfity, patient and faithful i in the higheft profperity, beneficerit and ge- nerous; dutiful and affectionate, as a fon ; kind and forgiving, a* a brother; accomplilhed as a ftatefman ; wife and provident, as a ruler of the land. In fuch a character you behold human nature poireihng its higheft honours. The feutiments which it infpires tend to ennoble our minds ; and to prevent their imbibing the fpi- rit of thofe hard, interefted; and felf-feeking men with whom the world abounds. The ftriking example of forgivenefs, which the text dlfplays, ought frequently to occur to our thoughts, amidft the various oc- cafions of provocation and offence which arife in our intercourfe with the world. If one fo worthy and amiable, in the days too of his youth and innocence, fuffered fuch cruel treatment from his brothers, ought we to be furprifed if, even from our nearefl: relations, we meet with injuftice, or ingratitude? Wrongs and in- juries are, more or lefs, the portion of all. Like Death, they are an evil unavoidable. No ftation is fo high, no power fo great, no charader fo unblemifhed, as to exempt us from them. In the world, ungrateful men, falfe friends, and violent enemies abound. £very wife man ought to prepare himfelf for what he is to en- ♦ Ccn, 1. 21, counter (f JofepL Si eOUntcr in pafting through this thorny rcgioT!. Ke is not to ex- ped that he can gather gropes jrom thijlles ; nor to lofe the govern- ment of his mind, becaufe, in the midft of evil men, he is not al- lowed to remain, Hke a fecret and inviolable perfon, untouched and uninjured. As this view of our fituation ought to blunt the edge of paflion and impatience, fo the alleviating circumftances which reafon will fug- geft, ought to mollify refcntment. Think of the various conft ruc- tions which the actions of men will bear» Confider how different the motives of him who hath given us offence, may have been from thole which, in the heat of palTion, we afcribe to him; how apt all men are to be feduced by miflaken views of interefts, and how little ground we have to complain, if, upon a fuppofed in. terfering of interefts, we fufFer by others preferring their own to ours. Remember tlvit no opinions which you form under the pow- er of refentment can be depended upon as juft; and that every one loads the intentions of his enemy with imaginary degrees of 'malice. But admitting the injury you have received to be ever fo atro- cious in its nature, and aggravated in its circumftances ; fuppof- .ing it to be even parallel to that which Jofeph fuffered j look up, like him, to that divine government under which we are all plac- cd. If forgivenefs be a duty which we know God to have re- quired under the moft awful fandlions, dare we draw upon onr- felves the merited vengeance of that Superiour to whofe clemen- cy we are obliged daily to fly? When, with hard and unrelent- ing difpofitions towards our brethren, we fend up to Heaven prayers for mercy to ourfelves, thofe prayers return like impre- cations upon our heads ; and our very devotions Teal our con- demnation. The moft plain and natural feniiments of equity concux- with divine authority to enforce the duty which I now recommend,. Let him who has never in his life done wrong, be allowed the privilege of remaining inexorable. But let fuch ai are, confci- ous of frailties and crimes, confider forgivenefs as a debt which they owe to others. Common failings are the flxongeft ie([on f;.f mutual forbearance. Were this Tirtue i3fik«QV\'ii. among men, order , G2 On the Chara&e^^ order and comfort, peace and repofe, would be Grangers to human life. Injuries retaliated according to the exorbitant nieafure which pafTion prefcribes, would juftify refentment in return. The injur- ed perfon would become the injurer ; and thus wrongs, retali- ations, and freOi injuries, would circulate in endlefs luccefTion, till the world was rendered a field of blood. Of all the pafTions which invade the human bread, revenge is the mcfl direful. When allowed to rei^n with full dominion, it is more than fufficient to poifon ihc few pleafures which remain to man in his prefent flate. How much foever a perfon may fuffer from injuftiee, he is always in hazard of fufF^ring more from the profecution of revenge. The violence of an enemy cannot inflict what is equal to the torment he creates to himfelf, by means of the fierce and defperate paf- fions which he allows to rage in his foul. Thofe evil fpirits who inhabit the regions of mifery, are repre» fented as delighting in revenge and cruelty. But all that is great and good in the univerfe, is on the fide of clemency and mercy. The almighty Ruler of the world, though for ages offended by the unrighteoufnefs, and infulted by the impiety of men, is long- fufferwg andjloix) to anger ^ His Son, when he appeared in our na- ture, exhibited, both in his life and in his death, the moftilluilrious example of forgivenefs which the world ever beheld. If you lock into the hiflory of mankind, ycu will find that, in every age, thofe who have been refpected as worthy, or admired as great, have been diflinguilhed for this virtue. Revenge dwells in little minds, A noble and magnanimious fpirit is always fuperior to it. It fufrers not from the injuries of men thofe fevere fi:iocks which others feel. Collected within itfelf, it (lands unmoved by their impotent afiaults ; and with generous pity, rather than with anger, looks down on their un- w^orihy conduct. It has been truly faid, that the greatefl man on earth can no fooner commit an injury, than a good man can make himfelf greater, by forgiving it. Jofeph at the moment when wc now contemplate him, had entirely under his power all thofe un- natural brethren who had been guilty towards him of the moft cruel outrage which m>en could perpetrate. He could have retain- ed them for ever in that Egyptian bondage to which they liad once tonfigned him ; and have graiiiied revenge by every accumula- tion of difgracG which defpotic power enabled him to infli(ft. Had he ■ ofjofeph, 8^ he acted this part, he might for a while haVe been foothed by the pleafures of his high ftation ; but remorfe, in the end, would have Hung his foul. Cruelty would have rendered him unhappy within himfelf, as well as odious to others; and his name would have perifhed among the croud of thofe contemptible Itatefinen whofe anions (tain the annals of hiftory. Whereas now, his character flands among the foremoft in the ranks of fpotlefs fame. Kis me- mory is bleffed to all generations. His example continues to edi« ^y the world ; and he himfelf Ihines in the celeftial regions as the hrigltnefs of the firmament, and as the Jlars, for ever and ever. Let us now, II. Consider the fentiment contained in the text not only as a difcovery of cordial forgivenefs, but as an expreflion of devout attention to the conduct of Providence. So noiu it was not you that fent me hither , but God. Remark how beautifully piety and humanity are, in this inftance, conneded together. As we are told of Cornelius, the good Centurion, that his prayers and his alms, his devotions and his good works, came up together in memorial before God] fo here we perceive fraternal aifedion and religious reverence, mingling ii\ one emotion within the patriarch's heart. In a perfon of low and vulgar mind, the fenfations on fuch an occafion would have been extremely different. Looking back on the part events of his life, he would have afcribed all the adverfi- ty which he had fuffered to the perverfe treatment of his brothers ; and all the profperity which he afterwards attained, to his own good condu^^ and wifdom ; and by confequence would have re- mained imbittered againft the inftruments of the one, and filled with pride and felf.lufficiency on account of the other. But the elevated and noble mind of Jofeph rejeded fuch unworthy fenti- ments. Contemplating the hand of God in all that had befallen him, he effaced the remembrance of thofe evil deeds which had pro- duced his adverfity ; and for his profperity he affeded nopraife to himfelf, but afcribed it entirely to the will of Heaven. Let us take notice, that this is not the reflection of a private, retired man, whofe fitiiation might be fuppofed to favour fuch devout medita- tions. It is the reflexion of one, who was leading a bufy and a feducing life, in the midfl of a court j the favourite of thegreat- K cfl g4 Oh the Chara£^er eft monarch jfho was then known in the vvdrld. Yet him you ht" hold, amidft the fubmiflion and adulation which was paid to him, preferving the moderation and fimplicity of a virtuous mind; and, amidft the idolatry and falfe philofophy of the Egyptians, main- taining the principles of true religion, and giving glory to the God of Ifrael. From this union of piety with humanity, which is fo confpicu- cus in the fentiments of Jofeph, there arifes one very important inftruiftion ; That a devout regard to the hand of God in the vari- ous events of life, tends to promote good difpofitions and affec- tions towards men. It will be found by thofe who attend to the workings of human nature, that a great proportion of thofe ma- lignant paflions which break out in the intercourfe of men, arifes from confining their atteniion wholly to fecond caufes, and over- looking the 6ift caufe of all. Hence, they are infolent in prof- perity, becaufe they difcern nothing higher than their own abili- ties ; and in adverfuy they are peevifli and unforgiving, becaufe they have no objed on which to fix their view, but the conduct of men who have aded as their enemies. They behold no plaiv of vvifdom or goodnefs carried on throughout nature, which can allay the difcompofure of their mind. As foon as their temper is ruffled, the world appears to them to be a continued fcene of dif- afters and injuries, of confufed events, and of unreafonable men. Whereas, to the pious man, the contemplation of the univcrfe exhibits a very different fpe^acle. In the midft of feeming con- fufion he traces a principle of order ; and by attention to that or- der, his mind is harmonized and calmed. He beholds a wife and righteous Governour presiding over all the commotions which are raifed by the tumult of conflidingpaffions and interefts; guiding, with imperceptible influence, the hand of the violent to benefi- cent purpofes ; accomplifliing unexpefzr^ reprchenfion of cor.fcience ; and pre- L ferve gs On the CharaSer ierve the moft quick and accurate fenfibillt)' to right and wrong. If ever your moral impreiTions begin to decay, and your natu- ral abhorrence of guilt to leiTen, you have ground to dread that the ruin of virtue is fall approaching. While you employ all the circumfpedion and vigilance which reafon can fugged, let your prayers, at the fame time, continually alcend to God for ilipport and aid. Remember that from him defcendeth every good and perfe^ gift ; and that to him only it belongs to keep ycu jroin j billing, and to prejent you fault le/s before the prefence 0/ his glory with exceeding joy » I proceed nov; to the III. Observation from the text. That the power which corruption acquires to pervert the ongrnal principles of man, is tVequently owing to a change of their circumflances and condition in the world. How different was Hazael, the mellenger of Ben- hadad, from Hazael the king ; he, who ftarted at the mention of cruelty, from him who waded in blood ! Of this fad and fur- prifing revolution, the Prophet emphatically afligns the caufe, in thefe few words ; The Lord hath Jhewed me that thou fhalt he king over Syria. That crown, that fatal crown, which is to be let upon thy head, fhall (lied a malignant influence over thy na- ture ; and fhall produce tha^t change in thy character, which now thou canft not believe, Whofe experience of the world is fo narrow, as not to furnilh him w ith inftances fimilar to this, in much humbler conditions of life ? So great is the influence of a new fituation of external fortune ; fuch a different turn it gives to our temper and affections, to our views and defireSy that no man can foretel what his character would prove, fhould Provi- dence either raife or deprefs his circumflances in a remarkable degree, or throw him into fome fphere of aftion widely different from that to which he has been aceudomed in former life. The feeds of various qualities, good and bad, lie in all our hearts. But until proper occafions ripen and bring them forward, they lie there inadlive and dead. They are covered up and con- cealed within the receffes of our nature : or, if they fpringup at all, it is under fuch an appearance as is frequently miflaken, even by ourfelves. Pride, for inflance, in ceitain fituations, has no opportunity of difplaying itfelf, but as magnanimity, or fenfe of honour, of Bazael, (yj honour. Avarice appears as necelTary and laudable economy. What in one llation of life would difcover itielf to be cowardice and bafenefs of mind, pafles in another for prudent circumfpec- tion. What in the fulnefs of power would prove to be cruelty and opprefTion, is reputed, in a fubordinate rank, no more than the exercife of proper difcipline. For a while, the man is known neither by the world nor by himfelf, to be what he truly is. But bring him into a new fiiuation of life, which accords with his predominant difpofition ; which ftrikes on certain latent qualities of his foul, and awakens them into aftion ; and as the leaves of a flower gradually unfold to the fun, fo fhall all his true charac- ter open full to view. This may, in one light^ be accounted not fo much an altera- tion of character produced by a change of circumftances, asadifco- very brought forth of the real charader, which formerly lay con- cealed. Yet, at the fame time, it is true that the man himfelf undergoes a change. For opportunity being given tor certain difpofitions, which had been dormant, to exert themfelves with- out rellnnint, they of courfe gather ftrength. By means of x.h% afcendency which they gain, other parts of the temper are borne down ; and thus an alteration is made in the whole ftrudure and fyftem of the foul. He is a truly wife and good man who, through divine alhilance, remains fuperiour to this influence of fortune on his charader ; who having once imbibed worthy fentiments^ and eftablilhed proper principles of adion, continues conftant to thefe, whatever his circumftances be ; maintahis, throughout all the changes of his life, one uniform and fupported tenour of condufl ; and what he abhorred as evil and wicked in the begin- ning of his days, continues to abhor to the end. But how rare is it to meet with this honourable confiftency among men, while they are paffing through the different ftations and periods of life ! When they are fetting out in the world, before their minds have been greatly mifled or debafed, they glow with generous emoti- ons, and look with contempt on what is fordid and guilty. But advancing farther in life, and inured by degrees to the crooked ways of men ; prefilng through the crowd, and the buftle of the world ; obliged to contend with this man's craft, and that man's fcorn ; accuftomed, fometimes, to conceal their fentiments, and often 94 On the Characlcr often to ftiflc ihcir fctlings, they becaiiient lafl hardened in heart, and farijiliar with corruption, Who wculd not drop a tear over this lad, but frequent fall of human probity and honour? Who is not hn iibled, wh.en he beholds the refined Jeniin-ents and high principles on wliiuh we are {^i ready to value ourfelves, brought to faeh a {hameful idde ; and man, with all his boafted attain- nients of reau;;], difcovered lo often lo be the creature of his ex- ternal fortune, moulded and formed by the incidents of his life ? TKzinuance of ITazael's degeneracy leads us to refle(5l, in par- ticular, on the dangers which arife from ftations of power and greatnefs ; efpecial'y when the elevation of men to thefe has been rapid and fudden. Few have the flrength of mind v hich is re- quifire for bearing fuch a change with temperance and felf-com- mand. The refpect whi::h is paid to the great, and the fcope which their condition affords for the indulgence of pleafure, are pe- rilous circu.nlhinccs to virtue. When men live among their equals, and are accuiromed to encounter the hardihips of Jife, they are 6f courfe reminded of their mutual dependence on each other, and of the dependence of all upon God. But when they are highly exalted above their fellows, they meet with few objecfs to awaken ferious reflection, but with many to feed and inflame their pafflons. They are apt to lep^irare ihcir intereff from that of all around them ; to wrap ilienjfelves up in their vain gran- deur ; and in the ]ap of indolence aixl felfiQi pleafure, to acquire a cold indifference to the concerns even of ihofe v.'ho:n they call their friends. The fancied independence into v. hich they are lifted up, is adverfe ro fentimenta of piety, as v/ell as of humani- ty, in th.eir heart. Tuk'wg the twibrel and the harp, atul rejoich^g at the found of the organy they fay unto Cod, Depart from us, for we dejire not the knoibiedge of thy ways. What is the Jhmghty that wefuoiddjerve him r" or what prcft fjou/d we have, if we pray un- to him ? But we are not to imagine, that elevated Nations in the world furnifli the only formidable trials to which our virtue is expofed. It will hi found, that we are liable to no fewer nor lefs dargercus temptations, iVom the oppofite extreme of poverty and depreflion. When men who have known better days are thrcv.'n down i;^^ abjed of HazaeU p^ abjecl fituations of fortune, their fpirits are broken and their tem- per foured. Envy rankles in their bread at fuch as are more fuccefs- i'ul. The providence of Heaven is accufed in fecret murmurs ; and the fenfe of mifery is ready to pufli them into atrocious crimes, in order to better their ftate. Among the inferiour tlafles of mankind, craft and diflionelly are too often found to prevail. Low and penurious circun:iftances dcprefs the human powers. Tliey deprive men of the proper means of knowledge and improvement; and where ignorance is grofs, it is always in hazard of engender- ing profligacy. Hence it has been, generally, the opinion of wife men in all ages, that there is a certain middle condition of life, equally re- mote from either of thofe extremes of fortune, which, though it want not alfo its own dangers, yet is, on the whole, the ftatc moft favourable boih to virtue and to happinefs. For there, lux- ury and pride on the one hand, have not opportunity to enervate or intoxicate the mind, nor want and dependence on the other, to fink and debafe it; there, all the native affe^lious of the foul have the freed and faired exercife, the equality of men is felt, friendiliips are formed, and improvements of every fort arc pur- fued with mod fuccefs ; there, men are prompted to indudry with- out being overcome by toil, and their powers called forth into exertion, without being either fuperfededby too much abundance, or baffled by infuperable difficulties; there, a mixture of comforts and of wants, ar once awakens their gratitude to God, and reminds them of their dependence on his aid ; and therefore, in this date, men feem to enjoy life to mod advantage, and to be lead expof- ed to the fnares of vice. Such a condition is recorded in the book of Proverbs, to have been the wilh and choice of one who was eminent for wifdom. Retnove far from me vanity and lies. Give me neither poverty nor riches. Feed me with food convenient for me. Left 1 be full and deny Thee^ atidfay, Who is the Lord P or leji 1 he pryr and Jleal, and take the name of my God in vain^^ From the whole view which we have now taken of the fub- ject, wemny, in the fird place, learn the rcafons for which a va- riety * Prov, XXX. n, 9. Ip!) On the Charcid}dr riety of conditions-and ranks was eftablifhed by Providence among Tnankind. This life is obvioudy intended to be a iUte of pro- bation and trial. No trial ot characters is requifite with refpe6t to God, who fees what is in every heart, and perfedly knows \vhat part each man would a(fl, in all thepoflible fituations of for- tune. But on account of men themfelves, and of the world a- -round them, it was neceflary that trial fhould take place, and a difcrimination of chara(5^ers be made; in order that true virtue might be feparated from falfe appearances of it, and the juftice of Heaven be difplayed in its final retributions; in order that the failings of men niight be fo difcovered to themfelves, as to afford them proper inftruction, and promote their amendment ; and in order that their charaders might be fhovvn to the world in every point of view, which could iurniHi either examples for imita- tion, or admonitions of danger. The accoirplifliment of thefe important purpofes required, that human life fhould not always proceed in one tenour ; but that it Ihould both be chequered with many revolutions, and diverOfied by a variety of employ- ments and ranks ; in pafTmg through wliich the touchfione might be applied to the chara<51ers of men, and their hidden virtues or vices explored . Kazael might have appeared in hiflory with a -degree of reputation to which he was not entitled, had he conti- nued to acl in a fubordinate Uation. At bottom, he was falfe and imfound. When raifed higher in life, the corruption of his heart difcovered itfelf ; and he is now held forth with deferved infamy, us a wai*nii)g to fucceedinga.ges. In the fecond place we le^xn, from what has been faid, the im- portance of attending, with the utmofl care, to the choice which we make of our employment and condition in life. It has been ihown, that ^ir external fitUriiion frequently operates powerfully on our moral character ; and by confequence that it is itriclly con- nefled, not only with our temporal welfare, but with our ever- lafting happinefs or mifery. He who might have palled unblam- ed, and upright, through certain walks of life, by unhappily choof- ing a road where he meets with temptations too ftrong for his virtue, precipitates himfelf into fliame here, and into endlefs ruin hereafter. Yet how often is the determination of this mod im- portant of HazaeL o^ pGftant article left to the chance of accidental connexions, or fub^ mitted to the option of youthful fancy and humour? When it is made the fubjed of ferious deliberation, how feldom have they, oiv whom the decilion of it depends, any furtlier view than {o to i\\{' pofe of one who is coming out into life, as that he may the fooncft become rich, or, as it is exprefied, make his way to raoft advan- tage in the world? Are there no other objeds than this to be at- tended to, in fixing the plan of life ? Are there no more facred and important interefts which deferve to be confnlted ? — You would not willingly place one whofe welfare you fludied, in a fitu- ation for which you were convinced that his abilities were unequal* Thefe, therefore, you examine with care ;. and on then) you reff the ground of your decifion. Be perfuaded that not abilities mere- ly, but the turn of the temper and the heart, require to be exa- mined with equal attention, in forming the plan of future eda- blilhment. Every one has fome peculiar weaknefs, fome predo- minant paflion, which expofes him to temptations of one kind more than of another. Early this may be difcerned to fhoot ;. and from its firft rifings its future growth may be inferred. An- ticipate its progrefs. Confider how it is likely to be affeeled by fucceeding occurrences in life. If you bring one whom you are rearing up into a fituation where ail the furrounding circumftances fhall cherifh and mature this fatal principle in his nature, you. be- come, in a great meafure, anfwerable for the confeqjiiences that follow. In vain you truft to his abilities and powers. Vice and corruption, when they have tainted the heart, are fufiicient to overfet the greateft abilities. Nay, too frequently they turn then^ againft the poflellbr ; and render them the inftruments of hiw more fpeedy ruin. In the third place, we learn from the hiflory wliich has beer> llluftrated, never to judge of true happinefs, merely from the de- gree of men^s advancement in the world. Always betrayed by? appearances, the multitude are caught by nothing fo much as by the fnow and pomp of life. They think every one bleft, who is raifed far above others in rank. From their earlieft years they are taught to fix their views upon worldly elevation, as the nhi^ mate, obfedt of their ai-m? • and of all the fources of errouf i^ cpndu^lj^ 9^ On the Charadlef tonduft, this is the mufl: general. — Hazael, on the throne of Syria, would, duubileis, be more envied, and efteemed by the multitude a far happier man than, when yet a fubjed:, he was employed by Benhadad to carry his meiTage to Elilha. Yet, O Hazael ! how much better had it been for thee never to have known the name or honour of a king, than to have purchafed it at the expence of fo much guilt ; forfeiting thy iirii and beft character ; rufliing into crimes which were once thine abhorrence; and becoming a traitor to the native fentiments and dictates of thy heart! How fatal to thy repofe proved that coveted purple, which was drenched by thee in fo much innocent blood! How much more cheerful vere thy days, and how much calmer thy nights, in the former peri- ods of thy life, than when, placed on a throne, thy ears were invaded by day with the cries of the miferable whom thou hadft ruined ; and thy flumbers broken by night with the fhocking remembrance of thy cruelties and crimes! Never let us judge by the outfide of things ; nor conclude a man to be happy, folely becaufe he is encompaffed with wealth or grandeur. Much niifery often lurks where it is little fufpected by the world. The material inquiries refpeding felicity are, not what a man's ex- ternal condition is, but with what difpofition of mind he bears it ; whether he be corrupted or improved by it ; whether he conduds himfelf fo as to be acceptable to God, and approved of by good men. For thefe are the circumftances which make the real and important diftindions among the conditions of men. The effeds of thefe are to lail for ever, vvhen all worldly diftinc- tions (liall be forgotten. In the fourth place, from all that has been faid v.'e fliould learn never to be immoderately anxious about our external fituation, but to fubmit our lot with cheerfulnefs to the difpofal of Heaven. To make the beft and moft pruderit arrangements which v.e can, refpeding our condition m life, is matter of high duty. But let us remember that all the plans that \\e form are precarious and uncer* tain. After tlie utnic>fl precautions taken by human wifdom, no man can forefee the bidder, dangers which m.ay a^vait him in that path of life on which he has pitched. Providence cLufcs fc^r us nruch more wifely, than we can chufe for ourfelves; and, from circumftances t:)refrive tyrant, polTelsonly the fame station with the famine, the pePiilence, and the flood. Their triumphs are no more than the accomplifhment of God's correc- tion ; and the remainder of their "jorath Jhall he ref:rain, Seconi>ly, God makes the "xrath of man contribute to the be- nefit of the virtuous, by rendering it the means of improving and fingnalizing their graces ; and of rafmg them, thereby, to higher honour and glory. Had human affairs proceeded in an orderly train, and no oppofition been made to religion and virtue by the violence of the Vvickcd, what room would have been left for fom.e of the higbeft and moft generous exertions of the foul cf man ? Kow many fhining examples of fortitude, conftancy, and patience, would have been loft to the world ? What a field of virtues peculi- ar toa fiate of difcipline had lain uncultivated ? Spirits of a higher order pofiefs a flate of eftablilhed virtue, that Hands in need of no fuch trials and improvements. But tons, who are only under education for fuch a Itate, it belongs to pafs through the furnace, that our fouls may be tried, refined, and brightened. We muft iland the tonflid, that we may be graced and crowned as con- Tjucrors. The wrath of man opens the field to glory ; calls us forth to the mofl diftinguillicd cxercife of active virtue, and forms us to all thofe fuffering graces which are among the higheft orna- ments of the human foul. It is thus, that the iliudrious band of true patriots and heroes, of confeObrs and martyrs, have been Jet forth to the admiration of all ages, as lights of the world'; while the rage and fury of enemies, inftead of bearing them down, have only fervcd to exalt and dignify them more. Thirdly, * Ifaiahj x. 6, 7, 12. %f the Pafions of Alert, 1 2 1 Thirdly, the wrath of man is often made 10 advance t1»e tem- poral profperity of the righteous. The occafional didrefTcs which It brings upon them, frequently lay the foundation of their turure fuccefs. The violence with which wicked men purfue their refentment, defeats its own pnrpofe ; and engages the world on the fide of the virtuous, whom they perfecute. The attempts of malice to blacken and defame them, bring forth their charaders with more advantage to the view of impartial behold- ers. The extremities to which they are reduced by injufticc and oppreflion, roufe their courage and activity ; and often give oc- fion to fuch vigorous efTorts in thcr juft defence, as overcome all opppofition, and terminate in profperity and fuccefs. Evea in cafes where the wrath of man appears to prevail over the peaceable and the juft, it is frequently, in its iflue, converted in- to a blefilng. How many have had reafon to be thankful, for being difappointed by their enemies in defigns which they earnefl- Jy purfued, but which, if fuccefsfully acconiplifhed, they have af- terwards feen would have occafioned their ruin ? Whofo is wife, and will obferve thefe thirds, even he fiali underjiand the loving- kindnefs (if the Lord,* While the wrath cf man thus praifes God by the advantages which it is made to bring to good men, as individuals, the di- vine hand is equally apparent in the fimilar elfeds which it is ap- pointed to produce to nations and focieties. When wars and commotions fhake the earth, when fiiftions rage, and inteftins divifions embroil kingdoms that before were flourifliing, Provi- dence feems, at firft view, to have abandoned public affairs to the mifrule of human paflions. Yet from the midft of this confufioa ©rder is often made to fpring; and from ihefe mifchiefs lading advantages to arife. By fuch convulfions, nations are roufed from that dangerous lethargy into which flowing wealth, loi:g peace, and growing effeminacy of manners had funk them. They are awakened to difcern their true intereiis; and taught to tsk® proper meafures for fecurity and defence againft all tlieir foes. Inveterate prejudices are correded ; and latent fources of dan- ger are difccvered. Public fpirit is called forth ; and larger views of national happinefs are formed. The corruptions to which every * Pfeilm evil. 34. 122 On the dhine Government every government is liable, are often rectified by a ferment in the political body, as noxious i uir.oursin the animal frame are carri- ed off by the fliock of a dileafe. Attempts made againft a wife and well-eftabliflied civil conllitution tend in the iffue to firength- en it; and the diforders of bveiitioufnefs and faction, teach men more highly to prize the blclfnigs of tranqifiliiiy and kgal pro- tedion. Fourthly, the wrath nf nrnti^ when it breaks fcr'h in the perfecution of religion, prailts the divine gooduels, by being ren- dered conducive to the advancement of trurh, and propagation of religion in the world. The church of God, hi;ce the days of its infancy, hath never been entirely exempted from the wrath of the world ; and in thofe ages, during vvi;ich it was moil expofcd to that wrath, it h^th always fiourifned the moft. In vain the policy and the rage of men united their eiTarts to extinguifh this divine light. Though all the four winds blew againft it, it only flione brighter, and flanied higher. M i^y ivatef s tould not qucncb it, nor all the floods drown It, The conltancy and fortitude of thofe who fuffered for the truth, had a much greater efFtft in incrtaf- ing the number of converts, thati all the terrcur and cruelty of pcrfecutors in diminiflfing it. By this means the wrath of man was made to turn againft itfelf to the deftruction of its own j.ur- pofe ; like waves, which alTaulting a rock with i;npotent fuiy, difcover its immoveable ftability, while they dafli themfeives in pieces at its feet. I SHALL only add one other inftance of the ^' wrath of man" praifing God, by accomplifliing ends of moft exterfive benefit to niankind. Never did the rage and n;alice of the wicked imagine that they had obtained a more complete triu rph, than in the death of Jefus Chrift, When they bad executed their purpofe of making him fuffer as a malefactor, they were confident that they had extinguiflied his name, and difcomfired his follouers for ever. Behold how feeble arc tiieelibrts cf the wrath of man againft the decree of Heaven ! All that they intended to overthrow, they n oft efiectually eftabliflied. The death of Chrift was, in the councils of heaven, the fpring of everl.ifting life to the faiihfnl. liie of the Pajjions of Men. 123 crofs on which he fu'Tcred with apparent ignominy, became the ftandard of eternal honour to him ; the enfign under which his followers aflembled, and triumphed. lie who, at his pleafure, '* retrains the remainder of wrath,^' fufTered the rage of our Saviour's enemies to fuggeft no other things to them than what, Jong before, He had determined, and his prophets had foretold. They all confpired to render the whole fcene of Chrift's fuffer- ings exadl'y conformable to the original predicted plan of divine mercy and goodnefs ; and each of them contributed his fhare to accomplifli that great undertaking, which none of them in the leaft underOood, or meant to promote. So remarkable an in- ftance as this, fully afcertained in Scripture, of the " wrath of " man'' miniftering to the defigns of Heaven, ought to be frequent- ly in our eye ; as an exemplification of the conduct of Providencetin many other cafes, where we have not fo much light afforded us for tracing its ways. By this indudion of particulars, the do(5irine contained in the text is plainly and fully verified. We have feen, that the diforders which the pride and pafTions of men occafion in the world, though they take rife from the corruption of human na- ture in this fallen flate, yet are fo over-ruled by Providence, as to redound to his iionour and glory who governs all. They illullrate before the world the divine perfedions in the admini- flration of the univerfe. They ferve the purpofes of moral and religious improvement to the fouls of men. By a fecret tenden- cy, they advance the welfare of thofe whom they appear to threaten with evil. " Surely, O God ! the wrath of nian fhall '^ praife thee ; the remainder of wrath fhalt thou reftrain.'^ — In thy hand it is ; and Thou never letred it forth but in weight and meafure. It is wild and intradable in its nature; but Thou tameft it. It is blind and headlong in its impulfe ; but Thou di- redeft ir. It (druggies continually t© break its chain ; but Thou Gonfineft it ; Thou retrenched all the fuperfiuiry of its fury. Let us now confider, what improvement is to be made of this nieditation on the ways of Providence. In the fird place, Let it lead us to a religious contemplation P of 124 On the divhie Government of tiie hand of Gotl in all the tranfaOions of the world. In the ordinary courfe of human alFairs, we behold a very mixed and bufy fcene; the pafilons of men varioufly agitated, and new changes daily taking place npon this ftage of time. We behold peace and war alternately returning; the fortunes of private men riling and falling; and ilates and nations partaking of the fame viciilitude. In all this, if we attend only to the operation of external ciiufes, and to the mere rotation of events, we view no more than the inanimate pare of nature; we flop at the fur- fjce of things ; we contemplate the great fpedacle which is pre- fented to us, not with the eyes of rational and intelligent beings. The life and beauty ot the univerfe arifes from the view of tha: wifdom and goodnefs which animates and conduds the whole, and unites all the parts in ore great defign. There is an eternal Mind who puts all thofe wheels in motion ; Himfelf remaining for ever at reft. Nothing is void of God. Even in the pafTions and ragings of men, He is to be found ; and where they imagine they guide themfelves, they are guided and controlled by his hand. What folemn thoughts and devout affedions ought this meditation to Infp're ; when, in viewing t!ie affairs of the world, we attend not merely to the actings of men, but to the ways of God ; and confider curfelves, and ail our concerns, as included in his high adminiflration. In the fecond place. The doclrine which has been illuflrated fliculd prevent us from cenfuring Providence, on account of ary feennng difordcrs and evils which at preient take place in the world. The various inflances which have been pointed cut in this difcourfe, of human pailion and wickednefs rendered fubfer- vient to wife and ufeful ends, give us the hightfl reafon to con- clude, that in all other cafes of feeming evil, the hke ends are car- ried on. This ought to fatisfy our mind, even when the pro- fpe»ft is moft dark and difcouraging. The plans ot divine wifdom are too large and comprchenfive tobe difcerned by us in all their extent ; and where we fee only by parrs, we muft frequently be at a lofs in judging of the whole, '' The way of God is in the <* fea, and his path in the great waters; his footfteps are not *^ known.* Cut ahhcugh then fnycft ihcu cai A ret fee him, * r/ahu Ixxvii. 19. «' yet: of the Pajfions of Men. 125 <^ yet judgment is before him ; therefore truft thou in him.'^f As in the natural world no real deformity is found, nothing but what has either fome ornament, or fome ufe ; fo in the moral world, the moft irregular and deformed appearances contribute in one way or other to the order of the whole. The Supreme Being, from the moft oppofite and difagreeing principles, forms univerlal concord ; and adapts even the moft harlh and diflbnent notes to the harmony of his praife. As he hath reared the good- ly frame of nature from various and jarring elements, and hath fettled it in peace ; fo he hath formed fuch an union by his pro- vidence of the more various interefts, and more jarring pafTions of men, that they all confpire to his glory, and co-operate for ge- neral good. — How amazing is that wifdom, which comprehends fuch infinite diverfities, and contrarieties, v/ithin its fcheme ! How powerful that hand, which bends to its own purpofe the good and the bad, the bufy and the idle, the friends and the foes of truth; which obliges them all to hold on their courfe to his glory, though divided from one another by a multiplicity of pur- fuits, and difreri!)g often from themfelves ; and while they ail move at their own freedom, yet by a fecret influence, winds and turns them at his will ! " O the depth of the riches, both of the " wifdom and knowledge of God ! How unfearchable are his judgments, and his ways paft finding out!''* In the third place, we fee, from what has been faid, how mucli reafon there is for fubruiffion to the decrees of Heaven. What- ever diftreifcs we fuffer from the wrath of man, \vg havs ground to believe that they befal not in vain. In the midfl of hunan violence or opprefTion, we are not left to be the fporc of fortune. Higher counfels are concerned. Wife and good de- flgus are going on. God is always carrying forward his own pur- pofes ; and if thefe terminate in his glory, which is ever the fame with the felicity of the righteous, is not this a fufficient reafon for our calm and cheerful scquiefcence ? Hence alfo, to conclude, arifes the moft powerful argument for ftudying, with zealous afiiduity, to gain the favour and pro- teclion of the Ahnighty. If his difpleafure hang over our heads, all f Job) sxxv. 14. * R^m, xi, ^Z' 126 On the divine Government , ^c. all things around us may be juft objeds of terrour. For, againft him, there is no defence. The moft violent powers in nature are niinifters to him. Formidable, indeed, may prove the wrath of man, if he be pleafed to let it forth againft us. To him, but not to us, it belongs to reftrain it at pleafure. Whereas, when we are placed under his proteclion, all human wrath is divefted of its terrours. *' If he be for us, who, or what can be againft *' us?'' Let us purfue the meafures which he hath appointed for obtaining his grace by faith, repentance, and a holy life, and we fhall have no reafon to be ** afraid of evil tidings ; our hearts ** will be fixed, trufting in the Lord." When the religious fear of God poflefies the heart, it expels the ignoble fear of man; and becomes the principle of courage and magnanimity. The Lord is a buckler and a JJoield to them that fervehim, *' When he arifeth, ** his enemies ftiall be Icattered, as fmoke is driven away, and as ^< chaff before the wind, He giveth ftrength and victory to his " people ; he clotheth them with falvation. The wrath of man '* Ihall praife him 5 and the remainder of wrath fliall he reftrain.'^ SERMON C 127 ] SERMON XXX. On the Importance of Religious Know- ledge to Mankind. Preached before the Society in Scotland for propagating Chrif- tian Knowledge. Isaiah, xi. 9. They fhali not hurt nor dejlroy In all my holy mountain ; for the earth frail he jull of the knowlec^ge of the Lord, as the waters co- ver the fea. THIS pafTage of Scripture is underftood, by all Chriftian in- terpreters, to refer to the days of the Gofpel. The Pro- phet defcribes in the context, the aufpicious influence of the MefTiah's reign, as extending over all nature, and producing univerfal felicity. The full accomphfliment of this prediction is yet future, and refpedls fome more advanced period of the king- dom of God, when true religion fhall univerfally prevail, and the^ native tendency of the Gofpel attain its entile efFed. In the pro- fped of this event, the Prophet feems to rife above himfelf, and celebrates that happy age in the moft fublime (train of eaftern poetry. He opens a beautiful view of the ftate of the world, as a flate of returning innocence. He reprefents all nature flourifli- ing peace ; difcord and guile abolifhed ; the moft hoftile natures reconciled, and the moft favage reformed and tamed. '* The *' wolf fnall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard lie down with ** the kid ; and the calf, and the young lion, and the falling to- *« gether, and a little child fhall lead them. The lion fliall eat *' ftraw like the ox ; and the fuckling child fhall play on the hole ^' of th€ afp, and the weaned child fhall put his hand on the cock- atrice .128 On the Importance of *' atrice den. They fiiall not hurt nor deflroy in all my holy *' mountain ; for the earth fliall be fuil of the knowledge of *' the Lord, us the waters cover the fea/' Upon reading theie words we nniit immediately perceive the great encouragement which they give to all good defigns for pro- moting religion in the world. ^Vhen we engage in thefe, we liave the comfort of being engaged, not only in a good caufe, but alfo in one tliat fliall undoubtedly be futcefsful. For we are Jiere afTured by the divine promife, that truth and riglueoufncfs fhall at length prevail, and that the incrcafing influence of reli- gion fliall introduce general happincfs. It is a pleafmg and ani- mating refitdioii, that, in carrying on fuch defigns, we aft upon ihe divine plan ; and co-operate with God for advancing the kingdom of tiie Melhah. We have no reafon to be difcouraged by any unfavourable circum{lan< es which at prefent oppofe our pi- ous endeavours. I'hough tlie ignorance, fuperflition and cor- ruption, which now fill fo great a part of the world, have a dark ;ind myfterious afpccl, it i& not beyond the power of that Supreme I3eing who brings light out of darknefs, to clear up thofe per- plexing appearances, and gradually to oaricate mankind from the l&byrinth of ignorance and errour. Let us confidcr how impro- bable it Itemed, when the Gofpel was firfl publiflied, that it ihould extend fo far, and overthrow fo nmch eftablifhed fuperfli- tion £s it has already done. There is nothing, in the prefent flate of the world, to render it more unlikely that it fliall cue day be univerfally received, and prevail in its full influence. At the rife of Chriftianity, the difproportion was, at leaft, as great between the apparent human caufes, and the e{^e.6i which has ac- tually been produced, as there is, in our age, betv.'een thecircum- ftanccs of religion in the world, and the effeft which we farther exped. The Sun of right eoufncfs having already exerted its in- fluence in breaking through the thickelf darknefs, we may juftly hope, that it is powerful enough to dilpel all remaining obfcurity ; and that it will afcend by degrees to that perfeft day, when heal- ing fJmll he under its wings to all the nations. " A litile one fliall be- ** come a thoufand ; and a fmall one, a ftronp nation. I the " Lord will haden it in its time/'J Besides 1 Ifaiah^ Ix. 22. Relighus Kno-vlaige to Mankind^ \i() Besides the preJiiftion which the text contain', of the future fiiccefs of religion, it points out alfoa precife connexion hctueea the increafe of religious knowledge, and the happinefs of man- kind. The kmwleclge of the Lord filhng the earth, is sfligned as the caufe why they ft) a! I not hurt nor dejiroy In all the holy mountain of God. To this I am now to lead your thoughts ; as a rnhjed both fuited to the occafion of the prefent meeting, and proper to be illuflrated in times, wherein total indifference to religious principles appears to gain ground. Whether Chriflianity (hall be propagated farther or not, is treated as a matter of no great con- cern to mankind. The opinion prevails among many, that mo- ral virtue may fubfifl, with equal advantage, independent of re- ligion. For moral printiples great regard is profelTed ; but arti- cles of religious belief are held to be abdraci: tenets, remote from life ; points of mere fpecnlation and debate, the influence of which is very inconfiderable on the actions of men. The gene- ral condud, it is contended, will always proceed upon views and principles which have more relation to the prefent (late of things ; and religious knowledge can therefore (land in no neceiTary con- nexion with their happinefs and profperiiy. How adverfe fuch opinions are both to the profefl'on and pradice of religion,, is abundantly evident. How adverfe they are to the genend welfare antl real interelts of mankind, I hope to make appear to candid minds. By the knowledge of the Lcrd in the text, is not to be unJenl-ood the natural knowledge of God only. It is plain that the Prophet fpeaks of the age of the Meffiah, when more enlarged difcoverics (hould be made to mankind of the divine perfecfticns and govern- ment, than unaiTifted reafon could sttain. The know/edae r.f the Lord, therefore, com.prehends the principles of Chriflianity, as- well as of natural religion. In order to difcern the importance of fuch knowledge to general happinefs, we Hiiil conHJer ma»i, I. as an individual ; II. as a member of fotiety. I. Co\sir3RRiNG man as an individual, let u> enquTC ho\^ far the knowledge of true religion is important, finl, to his im- provement; next, to his confobilon. First, 13^ On the Importance of Fi RST, With refped: to the improvement of man ; the advance=r ment of his nature in what is valuable and ufeful, tiie acquifition of fuch difpofitions and habits as fit him for ading his part with propriety on this fiage, and prepare him for a higher ftate of ac- tion hereafter ; what benefit does he receive, in the(e relpeIy the defcds of human government. Indeed, the belief of religion is of fuch importance to public >\'cliare, that the mofi expreifive dcjcription we could give of a fociety ot men in the utmoli diibrder, would be to fay, that there wa: no fear of God left among them. Imagination would imme- diately conce've of them as abandoned to rapine and violence, to perfidy and treachery, as deceiving and deceived, oppref.ing and Rdtg'iQus Knowledge to T^Janhmd, i-p and opprefied ; confumed by iiuertine broils, ;ind ripe for becom- ing a prey to the firft invader. On the other hand, in order to form the idea of a focieiy flonrifhing in its highed glory, we need only conceive the belief of Chriftian principles exerting its full influence on the hearts and lives of all the members. Infiant- ]y, the mofl amiable ^c.em would open to our view^ We ihould fee the caufes of public difunion removed, when men were aiii- mated with that noble fpirit of love and charity which our religi- on breathes ; -and formed to the purfuit of thofe higher intereti?, which give no occafion to competition and jcaloufy. We fnculd fee families, neighbourhoods, and communities, living in un- broken amity, and purfuing, with one heart and mind, the com- mon intereft ; fobriety of manners, and fimplicity of life, reftor- ed ; virtuous induftry carrying on its ufeful labours, and cheerful contentment every where reigning. Politicians may lay down Vv^hat plans they plcafe for advancing public profperity ; but, in trurh, it is the prevalency of fuch principles of religion and vir- tue, which forms the ftrength and glory of a nation. When theie are totally wanting, no meafures contrived by human v^if- dom can fupply the defeft. In proportion as they prevail, they raife the (fate of fociety from that fad degeneracy into which it is at prefent funk ; and carry it forward, under the bleffing of He^i- ven, towards that happy period, when nation JJy all not lijt up their fvjord ogainj} nation^ nor Is am war any more. In order to prove the importance of religious knowledge to the intereft of fociety, one confideration more, deferving parti- cular attention, remains to be mentioned. It is, tUat if good feed be not fowii in the field, tares will infallibly fpring up. The propenfion towards religion is ftrong in the human heart. There is a natural preparation in our minds, for receiving feme imprefli- ons of fupernatural belief. Upon thefe, among ignorant and un- cultivated men, fupcrftirion or enthufiafrn never fail to graft themfelves. Into what monilrcus forms thefe have ihct forth, and what various mifchirf:^ thsy have produced to fociety, is too well knovv'n. Nor is this the whole of the danger. Defigning men are always ready to take advantage of this popular weak- nefs, and to dircd the fnperftitious bias of the multitude to thci^ own smbitions and intereued ends. SuperPiition, in itfclf a Pt formidable 140 On the Impwtance of, ire. formidable evil, tlireatens confequenccs ftill more formidabls,- when it is rendered the tool of dcfjgn and craft. Kence arifes one of the niofl powerful arguments for propagating with zeal, as far as our influence can extend, the pure and undefiled doc- trines of the Gofpel of Chrift ; in order that juft and rational principles of religion may fill up that room in the minds of men, which dangerous fanaticifm will otherwile ufurp. This confideration alone is fufficientto fnow the high utility of the defign undertaken by the Sociecy for propagating Chriftian Knowledge. With great propriety, they biave beflowed their chief attention on a remote quarter of our own country, where, from a variety of caufes, ignorance and fuperftiticn had gained more ground than in any other corner of the land ; where the inhabitants, by their local fituation, were more imperfedly fup- plied with the means of proper education and inffrucfion ; and at the fame time expofed to the feductions of fuch as fought to per- vert them from the truth. The laudable endeavours of this So- ciety in diffufing religious and ufeful knowledge through this part of the country, have already been crowned with much fuccefs ; and more is Hill to be expected from the continuance of their pious and well-direded attention. With fuch good defigns, it becomes all to co-operate, who are lovers of mankind. Tims fnall they fiiow their juft fenfe of the value of that blefiing v»-hicli they enjoy, in the knowledge of the Gofpel of Chrift ; and their gratitude to Heaven for conferring it upon them. Thus Ihsll they m?ke the blefiings of thofe who are now ready xoperijh through lack 0/ /['nQwlc-^oe^ defcend upon their heads. Thus Ihall they contribute their endjeavours for bringing forward that happy period foretold by ancient prophecy ; wlien " there ihall be one Lord over all the earth, and his name *' one ;"' when that *' name ihall be great from the rifmg to the fet- '* ting fun;" wlien " th'jre (hall be nothing to hurt nor deftroy in " all the holy mountain of God •/' but ** judgment fhalJ dwell in *' the wildernefs, and righteouhiefs remain in the fruitful field ; " thedefert IhaU rejoice, and blolTom as the rofe;'* and ** the earth <•' ftKill be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover ^' the lea.''* S E Fx M O N * Zcc^.iar, xiv. g. T\'alad:, i. 11. JfcucL^, MX'^ii. 16. xxxv. i. [ i4t J SERMON XXXI. On the True Honour of Man. ••^-^••^•••^•■^"•■^'■^ Proverbs, iv. 8. ;Exalt her, and pc JJmll prsmote theg ; fie fiall bring thee tQ honour. TME love of honour is one of the ftrongeft pafTions in the human heart. It (hows itfelf in our earliefi: years ; and is coeval with the firft exertions of reafon. It accompanies us through all the ftages of fubfequent life, and in private ftations difeovers itfelf no lefs than in the higher ranks of fociety. la their ideas of what conftitutes honour, men greatly vary, and of- ten grofsly err. But of fomewhatf which they conceive to form pre-eminence and diitirtction, all are defirous. All wifh, by forne means or other^ to acquire refped: from thofe among whom ihey live ; and to contempt and difgrace^ none are infeniible. Among the advantages which attend religion and virtue, the honour which they confer on man is frequently mentioned in fcrip- ture as one of the moit confiuerable. JVifdom is the principal things fays Solomon in the pamige where the text lies, *^ there- *' fore get wifdom ; and with all thy getting get underftanding. " Exalt her, and Hie fhall promote thee ; fne ihall bring thee to '< honour, when thou d oft embrace her. — She fhall give to thirie *' head an ornam.ent of grace ; a crown of glory fiiall flie deliver *' to thee/' It is evident that throughout all thefacred writings, and particularly in this book of Proverbs, hyijifdo'/n is to be un- derftood a principle of religion producing virtuous condud. The fear of the Lord is fa id to be the beginning of wifdom : And by this fear of the Lord men are f^iid to depart from evil ; to walk in J4'2 C'n the True Hcncur in the way of good vier., and to keep the path of the righteous:* Man is then regulated by the ivijdom luhich ir from above, Vv-hen lie is formefl by piety to the duties of virtue and morality ; and o(- the wiTdoin which produces this eifetl, it is aliened in the text^ that it brini'tth us to honour. On this recommendation of religion it is the more necellary to fix our attention, b^cauTe it is often rcfufcd to it by men of the world. Their notions of honour are apt to run in a very different clianneK Wherever religion is mentioned, they conne(5t with it ideas of melancholy and dejedion, or of mean and feeble fpirits. They perhaps admit that it may be ufeful to the multitude, as a principle of reftraini from dilurders and crimes; and that to per- fons of a peculiar turn of mind, it may afford confclation under the diilreifes of life. But from the active fcenes of the worlds and from thofe vigorous exertions which difplay to advantage the human abilities, they incline totally to exclude it. It may footh the timid, or the fad : But they coiifider it as having no connec- tion with what is proper to raifs men to honour and diftinction. I fliaa now endeavour to remove this reproach from religion ; and to fhow that ill every fituation of human life, even in thehigheft flalions, it forms the honour, as well as the happinefs of man. But firit, let us be careful to afcertain vvbat true religion is. I ad- mit that tiiere is a certain (j^ecies of religion (if we can give it that jjame) which has no claim to fuch high diftinction ; when it is placed wholly in Ipcculation and belief, in the regularity of external bo liagc, or in fiery zeal about contefted opinions. From a fuper- ftition inherent in the human mind, the religion of the multitude lias alaays been tindured with too much of this fpirit. They frjrve God as they would fcrve a proud mailer, v.-ho may be flatter- ed by their proftrations, appeafed by their gifts, and gained by loud proteftations of attachment to his interefts, and of enmity to all whom they fuppofe to be his foes. But this is not that wif- dom to which Solomon afcribes, in the text, fuch high preroga- tives. It is not the religion which we preach, nor the religion of Chrift. That relifnon condfts in the love of God and the love 'b' of * Prov. ii. 20. ©/ Mart. 143 of man, grounded on faith in the Lord JefusChrlft, the great Redeemer of the world, the Interceflcr for the penitent, and the Patron of the virtuous ; through whom we enjoy comfortable accefs to the Sovereign of the univerfe in the a6ls of worfliip and devotion. It confifts in juftice, humanity, and mercy ; in a fair and candid mind, a generous and afFedionate heart ; accompani- ed with temperance, felf-government, and a perpetual regard in all our anions to ccnfcience, and to the law of God. A religious, and a thoroughly virtuous character, therefore, 1 confider as the fame. By the true honour of man is tobe underftood, not what mere- ly commands external refpedl, but what commands the refpeft of the heart ; what raifes one to acknowledged eminence above others of the fame fpecies ; what always creates eileem, and in its higheft degree produces veneration. The queftion now be- fore us is, from what caufe this eminence arifes ? By what means is it to be attained ? I SAY, firft, from riches it does not arife. Thefe, we all know, may belong to the vileft of mankind. Providence has fcattered them among the crowd with an undidinguifliing hand, as of purpofe to fliovv of what fmall account they are in the fight of God, Experience every day proves that the poirelFion of them isconfillent with the moft general contempt. On this point, there- fore,^ I conceive it not neceifary to infift any longer. Neither does the honour of man arife from mere dignity of rank or office. V/ere fuch diliindions ahvvays, or even general- ly, obtained in confequence of uncommon merit, they would indeed confer honour on the charader. Bur, in the prefent ftate of fociety, it is too well known that this is not the cafe. They are often the conlequence cf birth alone. They are fome- times the fruit of mere dependence and afliduity. They may be the recompence of flattery, verfatiliry, and intrigue; and fo be conjoined with meannefs and bafenefs of charader. To perfons graced with noble birth, or placed in high Rations, much exter- nal honour is due. This is v/hat the fubordination of fociety ne- ceilarily x^4 ^^ ^^'^ True Honour ccflarily requires ; ;nid what every good lueii.ber of it will clieef- fully yield. But how often hjs it happened that luch peifoiis, when externally refpetied, are, ntveniielefs, defpired by men in their heans ; nay, lonieiiajes execrated by the public? Their elevation, if they have been unworthy of ir, is fo far from pro- x:uring them true Iionour, that it only renders t'heir infignificance, perhaps their infamy, more confpicuous. By drawing attention to their condud:, it dilLOvers, in the molt glaring light, how little tliey deferve theftatipn which they polLlii. I MUST next obferve^ that the proper honour or man arifes not from fume of thofe fplendid actions and abilities which excite high admiration. Courage and prowefs, military renown, lignal vic- tories and coi^queih, may render the nauie ch the text afcribes fuch high effefls ; and to which belongs the fubhme encom.um given of it by an author of one of the apo- cryphal books of Scripture ; with whofe beautiful and en.phatkal exprelhons I conclude this difcourfe. The memmal of virtue U .mm-yrta. It is kmwn-^UhCoJ, and v>ith mcr,. IVher, it is prefent mm lake example at it; and -when it is gone, they deftre it. It weareth 1^0 On the Tme Honour y ^c'. ivsareth a crown and triumpheth for ever ; lavirg gotten the vie^ iory ; Jlr'iv'tng for undefled rewards, Wlfdom is the breath of the power of Cod ; and a pure irfiuence flowing from the glory of the Jlmighty. Therefore can no defiled thing jail into her. She is the brightnejs of the everlajling light ; the unfpotted mirrour of the power cfCod; . and the image of his goodnefs. Remaining in herftlf fhe rnaketh all things new ; and in all ages, entering into holy fouls, Jhe maketh them friends of Ccdt and prophets .• For Cod loveth none hut him that dwelleth with wifdom. She is more beautiful than the fun ; fnd above all the order cf thej7arj. Being compared with li^ht, fie \s found before it,* g E R M O N JVi/dom of Solomon, iv. 2, 3.-^vli. 25, 26, 27, 28, 2§s. E 151 3 SERMON XXXlI, On Sensibility. Romans, xii. 15. KeJQtce with them thai ch rejoice, and weep with them that weep, THE amiable fpirit of our holy religion appears in nothing more than in the care it hath taken to enforce on men the focial duties of life. This is one of the cleared charaderiftics of its being a religion whofe origin is divine : For every do6lrine -which proceeds from the Father of mercies, will undoubtedly breathe benevolence and humanity. This is the fcope of the two exhortations in the text, to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weep; the one calculated to promote the hap- pinefs, the other, to alleviate the forrows of our fellow-creatures ; both concurring to form that temper which interefts us in the con- cerns of our brethren ; which difpofes us to feel along with them, to take part in their joys, and in their forrows. This temper is known by the name of Senfibility; a word, which in modern times we hear in the mouth of every one ; a quality, which eve- ry one affeds to polTefs ; in itfelf, a moil amiable and worthy dif^ pofition of mind ; but often miftaken and abufed ; employed as a cover, fometimes, to capricious humour ; fomctimes, to felfifh pafTions. I ihall endeavour to explain the nature of true fenfibi* lity. I fhall confider its efTedls : and after fliowing its advantag- es, iliall point out the abufes, and miftaken forms of this virtue. The original conftitution of our nature with refpe6l to the mixture of felfifh and focial afFeftions, difcovers in this, as in eve- ry other part of our frame, profound and admirable wifdom, Each individual is, by his Creator, committed particularly to him^ felf. 152 Cn Se/ifihUify. lelf, and his own care. He has it more in his own power to pro- mote his own welfare, than any other perfon can poflibly have to promote it. It was therefore lit, it was neceflary, that in each individual lelf-Iove fhould be the llrongefl and nioft a£live in- ftind. This lelf-love, if he had been a being who flood folitary alone, might have proved fufficient for the purpofe, both of his prefer vation and his welfare. But fuch is not the fituation of man. He is niixed among multitudes of the fame nature. In thefe multitudes, the felf-love of one man, or attention to his par- ticular intereft, encountering the felf-love and the interefts of a- nother, could not but produce frequent oppofition, and innume- rable mifchiefs. It was necefl'ary, therefore, to provide a coun- terbalance to this part of his nature; which is accordingly done, by implanting in him thofs focial and benevolent inftinds which lead him, in lome meafure, our of himfelf, to follow the intereft of others. The flrength of thefe focial inQincls is, in genera!, proportioned to their in)pcrtance in human life. Hence that de- gree of fenfibility whicli prompts us to v^eep with them that weep, is flronger than that vviiich prompts us to rejoice suit h them that re- joice; for this reafon, that the unhappy ftand more in need of our fellow-feeling and afiifiance than the profperous. Still, however, it was requiiite, that in each individual the quantity of felf-love ihould renjain in a large proportion, on account of its importance to the prefervation of his life and well-being. But as the quanti- ty requifite for this purpofe is apt both to engrofs his attention, and to carry him into crinnnal excfcfits, the perfe(fi:ion of his na- ture is meafured by the due counterpoife of thofe focial principles which, tempering the force of the ieliifh affedtion, render man equally ufeful to himfelf, and to thofe with whom he is joined in fociety. Hence the ufe and the value of that fenfibility of which we now treat. That it constitutes an elTential part of a religious character, there can be no doubt. Not only are the words of the text cxprefs to this purpofe, but the v/hcle New-Teftament abounds with paiTages which enjoin the cultivation of this difpofition. Be- ing " all one body, and members one of another," we are com- manded to " love our neighbours as ourfelves ; to look every man ** not on his own thincrs onlv, but on thofe of others alfo ; to be pi- "" '' ^Uiful, On Se?ifwi'ity. j^j */ tiful, to be courteous, to be tender-henrted ; to bear one ano- ther's burdens, and To to fulfil the law of Chrilt."* The difpo- fitions oppofiteto fenfibility are, cruelty, hardnefs of heart, con- traded attachments to worldly intereft; which every one will ad- mit to be direftly oppofite to the Chriftian character. According to the different degrees of conftitutional warmth in men's aifec- tions, fenfibility may, even among the virtuous, prevail in dif- ferent proportions. For all derive not from nature the fame hap- py delicacy, and tendernefs of feeling. With fome, the heart melts, and relents, in kind emotions, much more cafily than with others. But with every one who afpires to the, cha- racter of a good man, it is necelTary that the humane and com- paffionate diipofitions fliould be found. There muft be that with- in him which fliall form him to feel in fome degree with the heart of a brother; and when he beholds others enjoying happinefs, or fees them funk in forrow, (hall bring his affedions to accord, and, if we may fpeak fo, to found a note unifon to theirs. This is to rejoice ivlth them that rejoice, and to xveep with them that weep. How much this temper belongs to the perfection ot our nature, we learn from one who exhibited that perfc6tion in its higheft oe, gree. When our Lord Jefus, on a certain occafion, came to the grave of a beloved friend, and faw his relations mourning around it, he prefently caught the imprefTion of their forrows ; *^ he groaned in fpirit, and was troubled.'' He knew that he was about to remove the caufe of their diftrefs, by recalling Lazarus to life : Yet in the moment of grief, his heart fympathifed with theirs ; and, together with the weeping friends, Jejus wept.f Let us next proceed to cor.fider the effect of this virtuous fen- fibility on our character, and our ftate. I fhall confider it in two views ; its influence on our moral condud:, and its influence on our happinefs. First, It powerfully influences the proper difcharge of all the relative and focial duties of life. Without fome difcharge of thofe duties there could be no comfort or fecurity in human fociety. Men would become hords of favages, perpetually haralTing one another. In one way or other, therefore, the great duties of focial * Lukex. 27. Philip, ii. 4. i Peter iii. ^. Ephef, iv. 23. Cal. vi, 2. f John ii, 35. i54 ^" JSerTfibiliiy. ibcia] life muft be performed. There niuft be among mankind ibme reciprocal co-operation and aid. In this, all confent. But let us obferve, that ihefe duties may be performed from different principles, and indifferent ways. Sometimes they are performed merely from decency and regard to character ; fometimes frorri tear, and even from felfiflinefs, which obliges men to fliow kind- nefs, in order that they may receive returns of it. In fuch caf- es, the exterior of fair behaviour may be preferved. But all will admit, that when from conftraint only, the offices of feeming kindnefs are performed, little dependence can be placed on them, and liftle value allowed to them. By others^ thefe offices are difcharged folely from a principle of duty. They are men of cold affections, and perhaps of an in. tereiled character. But^ overawed by a fenfe of religion, and convinced that they are bound to be beneficent, they fulfil the courfe of relative duties with regular tenor. Such men ad from confcience and principle. So lar thty do well, and are worthy of praife. They afiiit their friends; they give to the poor; they dojufiieeto all. But what a different complexion is given to the fame adions, how niuch higher flavour do they acquire, when they flow from the fenflbility of a feeling heart ? If one be not moved by affedion, even fuppufing him influenced by principle, he will go no farther than Ariel prniciple appears to require. He will advance flowly and reluctantly. As it is juflice, not gencro- fity, which impels him, he will often feel as a talk what he is required by confcience to perform. Whereas, to him who is proajpted by virtuous feufibility, every office of beneficence and humanity is a pleafure. He gives, affifls, and relieves, not mere- ly becdufe he is bouud to do fo, but becaufe it would be painful for him to refrain. Hence, the fmallefl benefit he confers rifes ill its value, on account of its carrying the affection of the giver iinpreffed upon the gift. It fpeaks his heart; and the difcovcry of the heart is very frequently of greater confequence than all lliat iibtrality can beflow. How often will the affedlonate fmileof approbation gladden the humble, and raife the dejeded ? How often will the luuk of tender fympathy, or the tear that involun- tarily falls, impart conibla'tion to the unhappy? By means of this '-r-'^':dentw of liearts, all ihe ^''^a: duties v.- hich we owe m OUQ On Senfib'uUy. I5J bne jiiiOtlier are both performed to more advantage, and endear- ed in the performance. From true renlibiliiy How a thoufand good offices, apparently fmall in ihemfelves, but of hioh impor- tance to the felicity of others; offices which altogether efcape th^ obfervation of the cold and unfeeling, who, by the hardnefs of their manner, render themfelves unamiable, even \\hen they mean to do good. How happy then would it be for mankind, if this affedionate difpofition prevailed more generally in the world ! How much would the fura of public virtue and public fe- hcity be increafed, if men were always inclined to " rejoice with *' them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weepi" But, befides the efTed: of fuch a temper on general virtue and happinefs, let us confider its eficfts on the happinefs of him whd polTefles it, and the various pleafures to which it gives him accefs. If he be mafter of riches or influence, it affords him the means of increafing his own enjoyment, by relieving the wants, or in- creafing the comforts of others. If he command not thefe ad- vantages, yet all the comforts which he fees in the poffelTion of the defcrving become in fome fort his, by his rejoicing in the good which they enjoy. Even the face of nature yields a fatis- fadlion to him which the infenfible can never know. The pro- fufion of goodnefs which he beholds poured forth on the univerfe, dilates his heart with the thought that innumerable multitudes a- round him are blefl and happy. — When he fees the labours of men appearing to profper, and views a country fiourifliing in wealth and induftry ; when he beholds the fpring coming forth in its beauty, and reviving the decayed face of nature ; or in au- tumn beholds the fields loaded with plenty, and the year crowned with all its fruits j he lifts his affections with gratitude to the great Father of all, and rejoices in the general felicity and joy. It may indeed be objecled, that the fame fenfibility lays open the heart to be pierced with many wounds from the diftreffes which abound in the world ; expofes us to frequent fuffering from the participation which it communicates of the forrows, as well as of the joys of friendOjip. But let it be confidered, that the tender melancholy of fympathy is accompanied with a fenfa- tion, which they who feel it would not exchange for the grati- fications of the felfiOi. When the heart is flrongly moved by a- ny of the kind affedions^ even when it pours itfflf forth in vir- T uiuus 1^6 On Sr-nfihiltty^ tuous foiTOW, a lecret attradive cliarm mingles with the painful emotion ; there is a joy in the midrt of grief. Let it be farther coufidered, that the griefs which fenfibi'iiy introduces are coun- terbalanced by pleafures which flow from the fame fource. Senfi- bility heigbters in general the human powers, and is connected "with acutenefs in all our feelings. If it make us more alive to fome painful fenfations, in return, it renders the pleafmg ones mere vivid and animated. The felfifli man languifljes in his nar- rov/ circle of pleafures. They are Confined to what afteds his own intereft. He is obliged to repeat the fame gratifications, till they become infipid. But the man of virtuous fenfibility moves in a wider fphere of felicity. Eis powers are much more frequent- ly called forth into occupations of pleafing adivity. Numberlefs occafions open to him of indulging his favourite tafte, by convey- ing fatisfaAhatevcr it brings, it fliall find you regularly employed in d^jingjufllyj loving mercy, and walking humbly with the Lord your Cod, Lastly, Whatever other things may be dubious in futurity, two great events are undoubtedly certain, death and judgment. Thcfe, we all know, are to terminate the whole courfc of time ; and we know tiiem to be not only certain, but to be approaching nearer to us, in conftquence of every day that pafles over our heads. To thefe, therefore, let us look forward, not with the dread of children, but with that manly ferioufncfs which belongs to men and chriflians. Let us not avert our view from them, as if we could place them at fome greater diftance by excluding them from our thoucrhts. This indeed is the refuge of too many; but it is the refuge of fools, who aggravate thereby tbeterrours they muft encounter. For he that cometh, fiatl come, and ivill jict tarry. To his coming, let us look with a fleady eye; and ss life advances jhrough its progreiflve flages, prepare for its clofc^, and for ap- pearing before him who made us. Thus I have endeavoured to point out the reflections proper to be made, when the queftion is put to any of us, How old art thou? 1 have fliown with what eye we fliould review the paft years of our life; in what light we fliould confider the prefenr ; and with what difpofltions look forward to the future : In order that fuch a queftion may always leave fome fcrious imprefTion behind it; and may difpofe us fo to number the years of our life, that we may ap^ ply our hearts unlo wifdom* SERMON [169] SERMON XXXIV. On the Duties belonging to Middle Age, I Corinthians^ xiii. 11. — When J became a man, I put away child'tjh things* TO every thing y fays the wife mai), there Is afeafon ; and a time to every purpofe under Heaven.* As there are duties Vy-hich belong to particular fituations of fortune, fo there are duiies alfo which refult from particular periods of human life. In every pe- riod of it, indeed, that comprehenfive rule takes place, Fear God and keep his commandments ; for this is the whole duty of man.f Piety to God, and charity to men, are incumbent upon perfons of every age, as foon as they can think and aft. Yet thefe vir- tues, in different ftages of life, afTume different forms ; and when they appear in that form which is mofl fuited to our age, they ap- pear with peculiar gracefulnefs ; they give propriety to conduft, and add dignity to character. — In former difcourfes I have treat- ed of the virtues which adorn youth, and of the duties which fpecially belong to old age.:}: The circle of thofe duties which refped: middle age is indeed much larger. As that is the bufy pe- riod in the life of man, it includes in efFeft: the whole compafs of religion, and therefore cannot have its peculiar charafter fo defi- nitely marked and afcertained. At the fame time, during thofe years wherein one is fenfible that he has advanced beyond the^ confines of youth, but has not yet pafled into the region of old age, there are feveral things which reflection on that portion of human life fuggefts, or at leaft ought to fuggefi, to the mind. Inconliderate mull he be, who, in his gradual progrefs through- out middle age, paufes not, at times, to think, how far he is now receding from youth; how near he draws to the borders of de- clining * EccJeJ, iii. i. f Ecclef, xii. 13, % See vol, 1. Sermons i j, 12. 170 On fhe Duties hehigtrig dining age ; what pnrt it is now incumbent on him to aft; what duties both God and the world have a title to expert from him. To thefe, I am at prefent to call your attention; as what mate- rially concern the greateft part of thofe va ho are now my hearers. I. I BEGIN with obferving, that the firft duty of thofe who are become men is, as the text exprefTes it, to put away childifh ■things. The feafon of youthful levities, foUie.^, and paffions, is Tiow over. Thefe have had their reign ; a reign perhaps too Jong ; and to which a termination is certainly proper at lalt. PVIuch indulgence is due to youth. Many things admit of excufe then, which afterwards become unpardonable. Some things may even be graceful in youth, which, if not criminal, are at leaft ridicu« 3ous, in perfons of maturer years. It is a great trial of wifdom, to make our retreat fronj youth with propriety ; to afTume the character of manhood, without expoHng ourfclves to reproach, by an unfeafonable remainder of juvenility, on the one hand, or by precife and difgufting formality, on the other. Nature has placed certain boundaries, by which fhe difcriminates the pleafures, actions, and employments, that are fuired to the dilierent ftagesof human life. It becomes us, neither to overleap thofe boundaries by a tranfition too hafty and violent; nor to hover too long on one fide of the limit, when nature calls us to pafs over to the other. There are particularly two things in which middle age (hould preferve its diftinclion and feparation from youth ; ihefc are, le- vities of behaviour, and intemperate indulgence o^ pleafure. The gay fpirits of the young often prompt an inconfiderate degree of levity, fometimes amufing, fometimes ofTenfive ; but for which, though betraying them occafionally into ferious dangers, their want of experience may plead excufe. A more compofed and manly be- haviour is expedled in riper years. The arTectation of youthful va- nities, de-^rades the dignity of manhood; even renders its man- ners lefs agreeable ; and by aukward attempts to pleafe, produces contempt. Chearfulnefs is becoming in every age. But the pro- per chearfulnefs of a man is as different from the levity of the boy, as the flight of the eagle is from the fluttering of a fparrow in the air. As to Middle Age. \yi As all the unfearonable returns to levity of youth ought to be laid aficJe, — an admonition which equally belongs to both the fexes, — ftill more are we to guard againll thofe intemperate indulgencies of pleafure, to which the young are unhappily prone. From thefe we cannot too foon retreat. They open the path to ruin, in every period of our days. As long, however, as thefe excefles are confined to the firft ftage of life, hope is left, that when this fever of the fpirii:s Ihall abate, fobriety may gain the afcendant, and wifer counfels have power to influence the condu(fl. But af- ter the feafon of youth is paft, if its intemperate fpirit remain ; if> inftead of liftening to the calls of honour, and bending attention to the cares, and the bufinefs of men, the fame courfe of idle- nefs and fenfuality continue to be purfued, the cafe becomes more defperate. A fad prefumption arifes, that long immaturity is to prevail ; and that the pleafures and paflions of the youth are to fmk and overwhelm the man. Difficult, I confefs, it may prove to overcome the attachments which youthful habits had for a long while been forming. Hard, at the beginning, is the talk, to impofe on our condu6t reftraints which are altogether unaccuf- tomed and new. But this is a trial which every one mufl under- go, in entering on new fcenes of adion, and new periods of life. Let thofe who are in this (ituation bethink themfelves, that all is now at flake. Their character and honour, their future fortune and fuccefs in the world, depend in a great meafure on the fleps they take, when firft they appear on the flage of adive life. The world then looks to them with an obferving eye. It ffudies their behaviour ; and interprets all their motions, as prefages of the line of future condu£l which they mean to hold. Now, there- fore, put away cbildlp things; difmifs your former trifling amufe- ments, and youthful pleafures ; blaft not the hopes which your friends are willing to conceive of you. Higher occupations, more feous cares, await you. Turn your mind to the fleady and vi- gorous difcharge of the part you are called to a6t. — This leads nie, II. To point out the particular duties which open on thofe who are in the middle period of life. They are now come for- Avard to that field of action where they are to mix in all the ftir and buflle of the w odd ; where all the human powers are brought VV forth J -^2 On ihe Duties lekt^gwg forth into full exercife ; where all that is conceived to be impor- tant in human afr'airs is incefTantly going on around them. The time of youth was the preparation for future adtion. In old age our adive part is luppofed to be finifned, and reft is permitted. Middle age is the ieafcn when we are expeded to difplay the fruits which education had prepared and ripened. In this world, all of us were formed to be ailiftants to one another. The wants of fociety call for every man's labour, and require various de- j5artments to be filled up. They require that fome be appointed to rule, and others to obey ; fome, to defend the fociety from danger, others to maintain its internal order and peace ; fome, to provide the conveniencies of life, others to promote the im- provement of the mind ; many, to work ; others to contrive and direct. In fnort, within the fphere of fociety there is employment for every one ; and in the ccurfe of thefe employments, many a moral duty is to be performed ; many a religious grace to be exereif- cd. No one is permitted to be a mere blank in the world. No rank, nor nation, nor dignity of birth, nor extent of polTeflions, exempt any man from contributing his fhare to public utility and good. This is the precept of God. This is the voice of nature. This is the juft den)and of the human race upon one another. One of the firfl queftions, therefore, which every man who is in the vigour of his age fiiould put to him^felf is, " What am I do- *' ing in this worJd.^ What have 1 yet done, v.'hereby I may glo- *' rify God, and be ufeful to my fellows? Do I properly fill up the *' place which belongs to my rank and ftation ? Will any memorial *^ remain of my having exifted on the earth ? Or are my days pafs- *' ing fruit!t?fs away, now when 1 might be of feme importance *^ in the fyfleni of human affairs?'' Let not any man imagine that he is of no importance, and has, npon that account, a privilege to trifle with his days at plcafure. Taltnts have been given to all ; to fome, ten; to others, fve$ to others, two. Occupy with ibefe * //// / come, is the command of the great MLfter, to all, — W'here fuperior abilities are poflcffed, or difiinguiihcd advantages of fortune are enjoyed, a wider range is afforded for ufeful exertion, and the world is entitled to expecT: it. But among thofe who fill up the inferior departments of fo- ciety, * UtkCj xi,\. 13. i9 Middle Age, 17:$ «iety, though the fphere of ufefulnefs be more contra^led, no one is left entirely infignificant. Let us remember, that in all ftations and conditions, the important relations take place of mafters or fervants, hulbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and friends, citizens and fubjeds. The difcharge of the duties arifing from thofe various relations, forms a great portion ot the work af- figned to the middle age of man. Though the part we have to a£l may be confined within a humble line, yet if it be honourably adted, it will be always found to carry its own reward. In fine, induftry, in all its virtuous forms, ought to infpirit and invigorate manhood. This will add to it both fatisfadion and dig- nity ; will make the current of our years, as they roll, flow along ia a clear and equable ftream, without the putrid ftagnatlon of floth and idlenefs, Idlenefs is the great corruptor of youth ; and the bane and difhonour of middle age. He who, in the prime of life, finds time to hang heavy on his hands, may with niuch reafon fufpecfl, that he has not confulted the duties which the confideration of his age impofed upon him; alTuredly he has not confulted his own happinefs. But amidft all the buftle of the world, let us not forget, ill. To guard with vigilance againft the peculiar dangers which attend the period of middle life. It is much to be regretted, that in the prefent ftate of things, there is no period of man's age in which hi« virtue is not cxpofed to perils. Pleafure lays its ihares for youth ; and after the feafon of youthful follies is part, other temptations, no lefs formidable to virtue, prefently arife. The love of pleafure is fucceeded by the paflion for intereft. In thispaffion the whole mind is too often abforbed ; and the change thereby in- duced on the character is of no amiable kind. — Amidft the excefTes: of youth, virtuous aflfeflions often remain. The attachments of friendfhip, the love of honour, and the warmth of fenfibiliLy, give a degree of luflre to the charafter, and cover many a failing. Bun intereft, when it is become the ruling principle, both debafes the mind, and hardens the heart. It deadens the feeling of every thing that is fublime or refined. It contra6ls the afi^edions within a narrow circle ; and extinguifhes all thofe iparks of generofity and tendernefs which once glowed in the breafl. In proportion as worldly purfuits multiply, and competitions rife, ambition, jealoufy^ and envy, combine with intereH to excite bad 174 ^f^ i^^c Duties belonging bad paflions, and to increafe the corruption of the heart. At firlt, perhaps, it was a man's intention to advance himfelf in the world by none but fair and laudable methods. He retained for fonie time an averfion to whatever appeared diihonourable. But here, he is encountered by the violence of an enemy » There, he is fupplanted by the addrefs of a rival. The pride of a fuperi- or infults him. The ingratitude of a friend provokes him. — Ani- moficies rufrie his temper. Sufpicions poifon his mind. He finds, or imagines that he finds, the artful and defigning furrounding him on every hi-nd. He views corruption and iniquity prevailing ; the modefl: neglected ; the forward and the crafty riling to dif- tinclion. Too eafily, from the example of others, he learns that niydery of vice, called the way of the world. What he has learned, he fancies neceflary to praftife for his own defence; and of courfe alTumes that fupple and verfatile charader, which he obferves to be frequent, and which often has appeared to him fuccefsful. To thefe, and many more dangers of the fame kind, is the man expofed who is deeply engaged in adlive life. Ko fmall de- gree of firmnefs in religious prmciple, and of conftancy in virtue is requifite, in order to prevent his being alTimilated to the fpirit of the world, and carried away by the multitude of evil doers. Let him therefore call to mind thole principles which ought to fortif^y him againfi; fuch temptations to vice. Let him often re- collect that, vchatever his ftation in hfe may be, he is a man ; he !5 a chrirtian. Tiiefe are the chief charaders which he has to Support; characters fuperior far, if they be fupported with digni- ty, to any of the titles with which courts can decorate him; fupe- rior to all that can be acquired in the Itrife of a bufy world. Let him think, that thoua;h it n)ay be defirable to increafe his opu- lence, or to advance his rank, yet what he ought to hold much more facred is, to maintain his integrity and honour. If thefe be forfeited, wealth or Itation will have few charms left. They will not be able to proted him long from finking into contempt in the eye of an obferving world. Even to his own eye he will at laft appear bafe and wretched, — Let not the aifairs of the world entirely engrofs his time and thoughts. From that contagious air which he breathes in the midft of it^ let him fometimes retreat into to Middle Age, 175 into the falutary fhade confecrated to devotion and to wifdom. There, converfing ferioufly with his own foul, and looking up to the Father of fpirits, let him ftudy to calm thofe unquiet pafTions, and to re6tify thofe internal diforders, which intercourfe with the world had excited and increafed. In order to render this medi- cine of the mind more efFedual, it will be highly proper, IV. That as we advance in the conrfe of years, we often at- tend to the lapfe of time and life, and to the revolutions which thefe are ever affeding. In this meditation, one of the firft re- flections which fliould occur is, how niuch we owe to that God who hath hitherto helped us; who hath brought us on fo far in life ; hath guided us through the flippery paths of youth, and now en- ables us to flourilh in the flrength of manhood. Look back, my friends, to thole who Ikrted along with yourfelves in the race of life. Think how many of them have fallen around you. Ob- ferve how many blank fpaces you can number in the catalogue of thofe who were once your companions. If, in the midft of fo much dcvaftation, you have been preferved and blefTed ; confider ferioufly what returns you owe to the goodnefs of Heaven. In- quire whether your conducl has correfponded to thefe obligations ; whether, in public and in private, you have honoured, as became you, the God of your fathers ; and whether, amidft the unknown occurrences that are yet before you, you have ground to hope for the continual protedlion of the Almighty. Bring to mind the various revolutions which you have beheld in human affairs, fince you became adors on this bufy theatre. Reflect on the changes which have taken place in men and man- ners, in opinions and cuPtoms, in private fortunes, and in public condu6t. By the obfervations you have made on thefe, and the experience you have gained, have you improved proportionably in wifdom ? Have the changes of the world which you have wit- nefled,loofened all unreafonable attachment to it? Have they taught you this great leiTon, that, while the fafhion of the world is ever puffing away, only in God and in virtue, ftability is to be found? Of great ufe, amidft the whirl of the world, are fuch paufes as thefe in life ; fuch refting places of thought and reflection ; whence we can calmly and deliberately look back on the paft, and anti- cipate the future. To 176 On the Duties belonging To the future, we are often carting an eager eye, and fondly ftoring it, in our imagination, with many a pleafing fccne. But if we would look to it, like wife men, let it be under the perfuafi- on that it is nearly to refcmble the part, in bringing forward a mixture cf alternate hopes and fears, of griefs and joys. In or- der to be prepared for whatever it may bring, lei us cultivate that Hianiy fortituds of mind, which, fupported by a pious truft in God, will enable us to encounter properly the vicilTitudes of our ftate. No quality is more necellary than this, to them who are pafTnig through that ftormy feafon of life of which we now treat. Soft- iiefs and effeminacy, let them leave to the young and unexperienc- ed, who are amufmg themfelves with florid profpeds of blifs. But to thofe who are now engaged in the middle of their courfe, who are fuppofed to be well acquainted with the world, and to know that they have to ftruggle in it with various hardfhips, firmnefs, vigour, and refolution, are difpofitions more fuitable. They muft buckle on well this armour of the mind, if they would ifTue forth into the conteft with any profped of fuccefs. While we thus ftu- dy to correct the errors, and to provide againft the dangers, which are peculiar to this Uage of life, let us alfo, V. Lay foundation for comfort in old age. That is a period which all expe(St and hope to fee ; ana to which, amidft the toils of the world, men fometimes look forvv'ard, not without fatisfac- tion, as to the period of retreat and reft. But let them not de- ceive rhemfclves. A joylefs and dreary feafon it will prove, if they arrive at it with an unimproved, or corrupted mind. For old age, as for every other thing, a certain preparation is requifite; and that preparation confifts chiefly in three particulars ; in the ac- quifition of knowledge, of friends, of virtue. There is an acqui- firion of another kind, of which it is altogether needlefs for me to give any reconiiendation, that of riches. But though this, by msny, will beefleenied a more material acq'iifition than all the three 1 have named, it may be confidently pronounced, that, with- out thefe other requifites, all the wealth we can lay up in iforc will prove infufficient for making our latter days pafs fmoothly away. First, He who wiflies to render his old age comfortable, fliould ftudy b€timcs to enlarge and improve his mind j and by thought and to. Middle Jgg, lyy and inquiry, by reading and reflecting, to acquire a tafle for ufc- ful knowledge. This will provide for him a great and noble en- tertainment, when other entertainments leave him. If he bring into the folitary retreat of age a vacant, uninformed mind, where no knowledge dawns, where no ideas rife, which has nothing to feed upon within itfelf, many a heavy and comfortlefi day he muft necefTarily pafs. Next, When a man declines into the vale of years, he depends raore on the aid of his friends, than in any o- other period of his life. Then is the time, when he would efpe- cially wifii to find himfelf furrounded by fome who love and re- fpedl him ; who will bear with his infirmities, relieve him of his labours, and chear him with their fociety. Let him, therefore, now, in the fummer of his days, while yet a£live and flourifhing, by adls of feafonable kindnefs and beneficence, enfure that love, and by upright and honourable condud, lay foundation for that refped, which in old age he would wifh to enjoy. In the laft place. Let him confider a good conlciencCj peace with God, and the hope of heaven, as the nioft effedual confolations he can pofTefs, when the evil days fhall come, wherein, otherwife, he is likely to find little pleafure. It is not merely by tranfient a6ls of devotion that fuch confolations are to be provided. The regular tenor of a virtuous and pious life, fpent in the faithful difcharge of all the du- ties of our ftation, will prove the beft preparation for old age, for death, and for immortality. Among the meafures thus taken for the latter fcenes of life, let me admonifh every one not to forget to put his worldly affairs in order, in due time. This is a duty which he owes to his cha- rafter, to his family, or to thofe, whoever they be, that are to fucceed him ; but a duty too often unwifely delayed, from a child- ifli averfion to entertain any thoughts of quitting the world. Let him not truft much to what he v^ill do in his old age. Sufficient for that day, if he fhould live to fee it, will be the burden there- of. It has been remarked, that as men advance in years, they care lefs to think of death. Perhaps it occurs oftener to the thoughts of the young, than of the old. Feeblenefs of fpirit ren- ders meLmcholy ideas more opprefiive ; and after having been fo lo!)g accufioaied and inured to the world, men bear worfe with any thing which reminds them that they Enult fcon part with it. However, 178 On the Duties hehng'mgy (:c. However, as to part with it is the doom of all, let us take mea« fures betimes for going oiFthe ftage, when it ihall be our turn to withdraw, with decency and propriety ; leaving nothing unfulfilled which it is expedient to have done before we die. To live long, ought not to be our favourite wifli, fo much as to live well. By continuing too long on earth, we might only live to witnefs a great- er number of melancholy fcenes, and to expofe ourfelves to a wider compafs of human woe. He who has ferved his genera- tion faithfully in the world, has duly honoured God, and been be- neficent and ufeful to mankind ; he who in his life has been re- fpefted and beloved ; whofe death is accompanied with the fincere regret of all who knew him, and whofe memory is honoured ; that man has fufnciently fulfilled his courfe, whether it was ap- pointed by Providence to be long or (hort. Yov honourable age is not that which Jiandeth in length of time ^ nor that which is meajured by number of years ; but wijdom is the grey hair to man ; and an unfpotted life is old age,* SERMON Wi/dom, iv. 8^ 5^ E 179 1 SERMON XXXV. On Death. §"^"^-&-^"^"^ ECCLESIASTES. xii. 5. — . Man goeih to his long home, and the mourners go about the Jireets, THIS is a fight which incefTantly prefents itfelf. Our eyes are fo much accuftomed to it, that it hardly makes any impref- fion. Throughout every feafon of the year, and during the courie of almofl every day, the funerals which pafs along the flrcets Ihovv us 77ian going to his long home. Were death a rare and uncommon object ; were it only once in the courfe of a man's life, that he beheld one of his fellow-creatures carried to the grave, a folemn awe would fill him; he would flop fliort in the midft of his pleafures; he would even be chilled with fecret horror. Such impreflions, however, would prove unluitable to the nature of our prefent ftate. When they become fo ftrong as to render men unfit for the ordinary bufmefs of life, they would in a great mea- fure defeat the intention of our being placed in this world. It is better ordered by the wifdom of Providence, that they fliould be weakened by the frequency of their recurrence ; and fo tem- pered by the mixture of other paflions^ as to allow us to go on freely in ading our parts on earth. Yet, famjliar as death is now become, it is undoubtedly fir, that by an event of lo important a nature, fome imprefilon fliould be made upon our minds. It ought not to pafs over, as one of thofe common incidents which are beheld without concern, and a- waken no reflection. There are many things which the funerals of cur fellow-creatures are calculated to teach ; and happy it were for the gay and dillipated, if they would liften more frequently to the inftrudions of fo awful a monitor. In the context, the wife X man i8o €n Death. man had defcribed, under a variety of images fuited to the eaflern (lyle, the growing infirmities of old age, until they arrive a>t that period which concludes them all; when, as he beautifully expreffes ir, the fiber cordhewg hofcned, and the golden hoiul broken , the pitcher being broken at the fountain, and the ivheel at the cifiern, man goeth io his long heme, and the mourners go about thefireets. In difcourf- ing from thefe words, it is not my purpofe to treat, at prefent, of the inftrudions to be drawn from the profpeft of our own death. I am to confine myfelf to the death of others ; to confider death as one of the moft frequent and confiderable events that happen in the courfe of human affairs ; and to fhow in what manner we ought to be affeded, firft, by the death of ftrangers, or indiffer- ent perfons ; fecondly, by the death of friends; and thirdly, by the death of enemies. I, By the death of indifferent perfons; If any can be called in- different, to whom we are fo nearly allied as brethren by nature, ^nd brethren in mortality. When we obferye the funerals that pafs along the flreets, or when we walk among the monuments of death, the firft thing that naturally ftrikes us is the undiftinguifhing blow, \vith which that common enemy levels all. We behold a great pro- mifcuous multitude all carried to the lame abode ; all lodged in the fame dark and filent manfions. There, mingle perfons of every age iind character, of every rank and condition in life ; the young and the old, the poor and the rich, the gay and the grave, the renown- ed and the ignoble. A few weeks ago, mod of thofe whom we I;iave feen carried to the grave, walked about as we do now on the earth ; enjoyed their friends, beheld the light of the fun, and ^vere forming defigns for future days. Perhaps, it is not longfince they were engaged in fcenes of high feftivity. For them, perhaps, the cheerful company ad'embled ; and in the midfl of the circle ihey Ihone with gay and pleafmg vivacity. But now — to them, all is finally clofed. To them, no more fliall the feafons return, or the fun arife. No more fliall they hear the voice of mirth, or behold the face of man. They are fwept from the univerfe, as though they had never been. They are carried away as with a flood: The wind has pafjed over ihe?7i, and they are gone. When we contemplate this defolation of the human race ; this final termination of fo many hopes; this fiknce that now reigns among On Death, I'^t among thofe who, a kittle while ago, were fo bufy, or fo gay; who can avoid being touched with lenfations at once awful and tender? What heart but then warms with the glow of humanity? In whofe eye does not the tear gather, on revolving the fate of pafling and ihort-lived man? Such fenfations are fo congenial to human nature, that they are attended with a certain kind of for- rowful pleafure. Even voluptuaries themfelves, fometimes indulge a tafte for funeral melancholy. After the feftive aflembly is dif- miflfed, they chufe to walk retired in the fhady grove, and to con- template the venerable iepuichres of their anceftors. This me- lancholy pleafure ariies from two different lentiments meeting at the fame time in the breaft ; a fympathetic fenfe of the (hortnefs and vanity of life, and a perfuafion that fomething exifts after 4eath, fentiments, which unite at the view of the houfe appointed for all living, A tomb, it has been juftly fa id, is a monument fituated on the confines of both worlds. It, at once, prefents to us the termination of the inquietudes of life, and fets before us the image of eternal reft. There, in the elegant expreffions of Job, the wicked ceafd from troubling; and there the w^eary be at refl. There the prifoners refi together ; they hear not the voice of the oppreffors. The fmall and the great are there ; andthe fervant is free from his mafier. It is very remarkable, that in all languages, and among all nations, death has been defcribed in a ftyle of this kind; exprelTed by figures of fpeech, which convey every where the fame idea of reft, or fleep, or retreat from the evils of life. Such a ftyle perfectly agrees with the general belief of the fouPs immor- tality ; but affuredly conveys no high idea of the boafled pleafares of the world. It ihows how much all mankind have felt this life to be a fcene of trouble and care ; and have agreed in opinion, that pei-fe6t reft is to be expelled only in the grave. There y fays Job, are the fmall and the great. There the poor man lays down at laft the burden of his wearifome life. No more fl'jall he groan under the load of poverty and toil. No more /hall he hear the infolentealls of the raafter, from whom he received his fcanty wages. No more lliall he be railed from needful flumber -on his bed of ftraw, nor be hurried away from his homely meal, to undergo the repeated labours of the day. While his humble -grave is prepiiring, and a few poor and decayed neighbours are carrying 182 Cn Death, carrying him thither, it is good for us to think, that this man too was our brother ; that for him the aged and dellitute wife, and the needy children now weep ; that, neglected as he was by the world, he poflefled perhaps both a found underftanding, and a worthy heart; and is now carried by angels to reft in Abraham's bofom. At no great diilance from him, the grave is opened to receive the rich and proud man. For, as it is faid with emphafis in the pa- rable, the rich man alfo died, and vjas buried.^ — He alfo died. His riches prevented not his fliaring the fame fate with the poor man; perhaps, through luxury, they accelerated his doom. Then, in- deed, the mourners go choui the ftreets ; and while, in all the pomp and magnificence of woe, his funeral is prepared, his heirs, in the mean time, impatient to examine his will, are looking on one a- nother with jealous eyes, and already beginning to quarrel about the divifion of his fubftance. One day, we fee carried along the cofHn of the fmiling infant; the flower juft nipped as it began to blolTom in the parents' view : and the next day, we behold the young man, or young woman, of blooming form and promifmg hopes, laid in an untimely grave. While the funeral is attend- ed by a numerous, unconcerned company, who are difcourfing to one another about the news of the day, or the ordinary affairs of life, let our thoughts rather follovv' to the houfe of mourning, and reprefent to themfelves what is going on there. There, we would fee a difconfolate family, fitting in filent grief, thinking of the fad breach that is made in their little fociety, and, with tears in their eyes, looking to the chamber that is now left vacant, and to every memorial that prefents itfelf of their departed friend. By fuch attention to the woes of others, the felfifli hardnefs of our hearts will be gradually foftened, and melted down into hu- manity. Another day, we follow to the grave one, who, in old age, and after a long career of life, has in full maturity funk at laft in- to reft. As we are going along to the manfion of the dead, it is natural for us to think, and to difcourfe, of all the changes which fuch a perfon has feen during the courfe of his life. He has pafs- ed, it is likely, through varieties of fortune. He has experi- enced profperity, and adverfity. He has feen families and kin- dreds rife and fall. He has feen peace and v/ar fucceeding in * r z. • ^^^^^^ * Luke J xvi. 22. On Death, 183 their turns ; the face of his country undergoing many alterations; and the very city in which he dwelt rifing, in a manner, new a^ round him. After all he has beheld, his eyes are now clofed for ever. He was becoming a ftranger in the midft of a new fuccef- fion of men. A race who knew him not, had arifen to fill the earth. Thus pafles the world away. Throughout all ranks and condi- tions, one generation pajfdth, and another generation cometh ; and this great inn is by turns evacuated, and rcpleniihed, by troops of fucceeding pilgrims. — O vain and inconftant world ! O fleet- ing and tranfient life! When will the fons of men learn to think of thee, as they ought? When will they learn humanity from the afflictions of their brethren ; or moderation and wifdom, from the fenfe of their own fugitive (late? But, now to come nearer to ourfelves, let us, II. Co:^siDER the death of our friends. Want of reflection, or the long habits, cither of a very bufy, or a very difTipated life, may have rendered men infenfible to all fuch obje6ls as I have now defcribed. The ftranger and the unknown, fall utterly un- noticed at their fide. Life proceeds with them in its ufual train, without being afFeded by events in which they take no perfonal concern. But the diiTolution of thofe ties which had long bound men together, in intimate and familiar union, gives a painful fhock to every heart. When a family, who, for years had been living in comfort and peace, are fuddenly ihattered, by fome of their moft beloved or refpected members being torn from them ; when the hufband or the fpoufe are feparated for ever from the companion who, amidlt every vicilTitude of fortune, folaced their life ; who had Ihared all their joys, and participated in all their forrows ; when the weeping parent is folding in his arms the dy- ing child whom he tenderly loved ; when he is giving his lafl blefTing, receiving the lad fond adieu, looking for the laft time on that countenance, now wafting and faded, which he had once beheld with much delight ; then is the time, when the heart is made to drink all the bitternefs of human woe. — But I feek not to wound your feelings by dwelling on thefe fad defcriptions. Let us rather turn our thou^-hts to the manner in which fuch events o ought to be received and improved, fmce happen they muft in the life of man. Then_, 1 84 ^« Death, Then, indeed, is the time to weep. Let not a falfe idea of fortitude, or miilaken conceptions of religions duty, be employed to reiirain the burlVmg eaiorion. Let the heart feek its relief, in the free efFufion of juft and natural forrow. It is becoming in every one to fhow, on fuch occafions, that he feels, as a man ought to feel. At the fame time, let moderation temper the grief of a good man and a chriftian. He mu^ not forrow likeihofe who have m h'jpe. As high elation of fpirics befits not the joys, fo continued and {)verw!ielii}ing dejection fnits not the griefs of this tranfitory world. Grief, when it goes beyond certain bounds, becomes un- manly ; when it lads beyond a certain time, becomes unfeafona- ble. Let him not rejei^ the alleviation which time brings to all the wounds of the heart, but fnffer excefTive grief to fubfide, by deorees, into a tender and affectionate remembrance. Let him confider, that it is in the power of Providence to raife him up o- ther comforts in the place of thofe he has loft. Or, if his mind, at prefent, rejed the thoughts of fuch confolation, let it turn for relief to the profpecl of a future meeting in a happier world. This is indeed the chief foother of affliftion ; the moft powerful balm of the bleeding heart. It aiFifts us to view death, as no more than a temporary feparation of friends. They whom we have loved ftill live, though not prefent to us. They are only removed in- to a different manfion in the houfe of the common Father. — The toils of their pilgrimage are finiflied ; and they are gone to the land of reft and peace. They are gone from this dark and trou- bled world, to join the great affembly of the juft ; and to dwell in midft of everlafting light. — In due time we hope to be aflbciated with them in thefe blifsful habitations. Until this feafon of re-u- nion arrive, no principle of religion difcourages our holding corref- pondence of atfedion with them by means of faith and hope. Meanwhile, let us refpe6l the virtues, and cherifli the me- mory of the deceafed. Let their little failings be now forgotten. Let us dwell on what Vs'as amiable in their character, imitate their worth, and trace their fteps. By this means, the remembrance of thofe whom we loved ihall become ufeful and improving to us, as well as facrcd and dear; if we accuftom ourfelves to confider them as ftill fpeakiag, and exhorting us to all that is good ; if, in lituations where our virtue is tried, we call up their refpe6ted i- dea On Death, 185 dea to view, and, as placed in tlieir pre fence, think of the part which we could acl before them wiilicut a blufli. Moreover, let the remembrance of the friends whom we have loft, ftrengihen our affei5lion to thofe that remain. The narrow- er the circle becomes of thofe we love, let us draw the clofer to- gether. Let the heart that has been foftened by forrow, mel- low into gentlenefs and kindnefs ; make liberal allowance for the weaknefles of others; and divert itfelf of the little prejudices that may have formerly prepoflefied it againft them. The greater ha- vock that death has made among our friends on earth, let us cul- tivate conncclion more with God, and heaven, and virtue. Let thofe noble views which man's immortal character affords, fill and exalt our minds. PalTengcrs only through his fublunary region, let our thoughts often afcend to that divine country, which we are taught to confider as the native feat of the foul. There, we form connexions that are never broken. There, we meet with friends who never die. Among celeftial things there is firm and lafting conftancy, while all that is on earth changes and pafles a- way. Such are fome of the fruits we fliould reap from the ten- der feelings excited by the death of friends. — But they are not on- ly our friends who die. Our enemies alfo muft go to their long home. Let us, therefore, III, Consider how we ought to be affected, when they from whom fufpicions have alienated, or rivalry has divided us; they •with v^hom we have long contended, or by whom we imagine ourfelves to have fuffered wrong, are laid, or about to be laid, in the grave. How inconfiderable then appear thofe broils in which we had been long involved, thofe contefts and feuds which we thought were to laij^for ever? The awful moment that now ter- minates them, makes us feel their vanity. If there be a fpark of humanity left in the breaft, the remembrance of cur common fate then awakens it. Is there a man, Vv'ho, if he were admitted to ftand by the death-bed of his bittereft enemy, and beheld him en- during that conflict which human nature muft fuiier at the laft, would not be inclined to ftretch forth the hand of friendfiiip, to utter the voice of forgivenefs, and to wifn for perfed recoucilia- ation with him before he left the world ? Who is there that, when he beholds the remaius of his adverfary depofued in the duft, feels not. i86 Cn Death. not, in that moment, fome relentings at the remembrance of thole pjift anin.ofities which mutually embittered their life? '* There lies the man with whom I contended fp long, filent " and mute forever. He is fallen ; and I am about to follow " him. How poor is the advantage which I now enjoy? Where '^ are the fruits of all our contelts ? In a fliort time we (hall be *^ laid together, and no remembrance remain of either of us, " under the fun. How many miftakes mjay there have been be- *' tvveen us? Had not he his virtues and good qualities as well as " 1 ? When we fhall both appear before the judgment-feat of '^ God, fl]all 1 be found innocent, and free of blame, for all " the enmity I have borne to him?'' My friends, let the an- ticipation of fuch fentiments, fcrve now to corred the invetera- cy of prejudice, to cool the heat of anger, to allay the fiercenefs of refentment. How unnatural is it for animofities fo lafting to pofTefs the hearts of mortal men, that nothing can extinguifh them, but the cold hand of death .-' Is there not a fufRcient proportion of evils in the fhort fpan of human life, that we feek to increafe their number, by rufliing into unnecefiary contefts with one ano- ther? When a few funs more have rolled over our heads, friends and foes (liall have retreated together; and their love and their hatred be equally buried. Let our few days, then, be fpent in peace. While we are all journeying onwards to death, let us rather bear one another^ s burdens, than harrafs one another by the way.— Let us fmooth and cheer the road as much as we can, ra- ther than fill the valley of our pilgrimage with the hateful monu- ments of our contention and ftrife. Thus 1 have fet before you fome of thofe meditations which are naturally fuggefted by the prevalence of dq^h around us; by the death of ftrangers, of friends, and of enemies. Becaufe topics of this nature are obvious, let it not be thought that they are without ufe. They require to be recalled, repeated, and enforced. Moral and religious indrucTion derives its efficacy, not fo much from what men are taught to know, as from what they are brought to feel. It is not the dormant knowledge of any truths, but the vivid impreflion of them, which has influence on pracTice. Nei- ther let it be thought, that fuch meditaiions are unfeafonable in- trufions upon thole who are living in health, in ailluence, and eale. There is no hazard of their making too deep or painful an impref- fion. 9 , On Death, i ^y (ion. The gloom which they occafion is tranficnt ; and will foon, too foon, it is probable, be difpelled by thefucceeding affairs and pleafiires of the world. To wifdom it certainly belongs that men ihould be impre'Ted with juft views of their nature, and their ftate: and the pleafures of life will always be enjoyed to nioft advantcjge when they are tempered with ferious thought. There is a time to mourn as well as a time to rejoice. There is a virtuous forrowy which is better than laughter. There is ^fatltiefs of the counienancey by which the heart is made better. Y SERMON C iS8 ] . SERMON XXXVL On the Progress of Vice. I Corinthians^ xv. 33. Be 720i deceived.' Evil conimumcaiiom corrupt good manner j, THOUGH human nature be now fallen from its original ho nour, feveral good princ pies ihll remain in the hearts of men. There are few, if any, on whofe minds the reverence for a Supreme Being continues not, in fome degree, imprefled. In every breaft, fome benevolent affections are found ; and confcience ftill retains a fenfe of the diftindion between moral good and evil, Thefe principles of virtue are always fufceptible of improvement • and, in favourable fituations, might have a happy influence on pradice. But fuch is the frailty of our nature, and fo numerous are the temptations to evil, that they are in perpetual hazard of being either totally effaced, or fo far weakened, as to produce no cfFod: on our conducl. They are good feeds originally fown in the heart ; but which require culture, in order to make them rife to any maturity. If left without afTiftance, they are likely to be ftifled, by that profufion of noxious weeds which the foil fends forth around them. Among the numerous caufes which introduce corruption into the henrt, and accelerate its growth, none is more unhappily powerful than that which is pointed out in the text, under the defcription of evil comtmmications ; that is, the contagion which is diffufed by bad examples, and heightened by particular connedlions withperlbnsof loofe principles, or difToIute morals. — This, in a li- centious ftate of fociety, is the mofl common fource of thofe vices and diforders which fo much abound in great cities; and oft- en proves, in a particular manner, fatal to the young; even to tkem whofe beginnings were once auipicious and promiilng. It may On the l^rogrefs of Vice. 1S9 may therefore be an ufeful employment of attention, to trace the progrels of this principle of corruption ; to examine the means by which ith im- plicit fubmiffion ; and make proficiency in this fchool of iniquity, in exad proportion to the vveaknefs of their underftandings, and the ftrength of their pafTions. How many pafs away, after this manner, fome of the mod: valuable years of their life, tofTed in a whirlpool of what cannot be called pleafure, fo much as mere giddinefs and folly ? In the habits of perpetual connection with idle or licentious company, all refieclion is loft ; while, circulated from one empty head, and one thoughtlefs heart, to another, folly fiioots up into all its moft ridiculous forms: prompts the extravagant, unmeaning frolic in private ; or fallies forth in public into mad riot ; impelled fome- limes by intoxication, fometimes by mere levity of fpirits. All the while, amidft this whole courfe of juvenile infatuation, I readily admit, that much good natUi'e may Hill remain. Gene- rufity and attachments may be found ; nay, fome awe of religion may ftiil fublift, and fome remains of thofe good imprellions which were made upon the mind iii early i\:\)'s. It might yet be very polTible On the Progrefs of Vice, i pi polTible to reclaim fuch perfons, and to form thern for ufeful and refpetftdble itatioos in the world, if virtuous and improving focie- iy fhoald happily fucceed to the place of that idle crew with whom they now alTociute ; if important bufinefs fl^.ould occur, to bring them into a dilFerent fphere of adlion ; or, if fome feafonable ftroke of afflidtion fhould ifi mercy be fent, to recall them to themfelves, and to awaken ferious and manly thoughts. But, if youth and vigour, and flowing fortune continue ; if a fimilar fuccefiion of companions, go on to amufe them, to engrofs their time, and to ftir up their padions; the day of ruin, — let them take heed and beware ! the day of irrecoverable ruin, begins to draw nigh. Fortune is fquandered ; health is broken ; friends are offended, affronted, eftranged ; aged parents, perhaps, fent afflided and mournino- to the duft. o There are certain degrees of vice which are chiefly (tamped with the charad:er of the ridiculous, and the contemptible : and there are alio certain limits, beyond which if it pafs, it becomes odious and execrable. — If, to other corruptions which the heart has already received, be added the infufion of fceptical principles, that worll of all the evil communications of Tinners, the whole of morals is then on the point of being overthrown. — For, every crime can then be palliated to confcience ; every check and re- flraint which had hitherto remained, is taken away. He who, in the beginning of his courfe, foothed himfelf with the thought^ that while he indulged his defires, he did hurt to no man ; new, preifed by the necelfity of fupplying thofe wants into which his expenfive pleafures have brought him, goes on without remorfe to defraud, and to opprefs. The lover of pleafure, now becomes hardened and cruel ; violates his truft, or betrays his friend ; be- comes a man of treachery, or a man of blood ; fatisfyino-, or at lead endeavouring all the while to fatisfy himfelf, that circum- ftances form his excufe ; that by neceflity he is impelled ; and that, in gratifying the paffions which nature had implanted with- in him, he does no more than follow nature Miferable and deluded man ! to what art thou come at the laft ? Doll thou pre- tend to follow nature, when thou art contemning the laws of the God of nature ? when thou art {titling his voice within thee, which reiHondrates agniiift thy crimes I when thou art violating the beft part ,Q2 On the Progrep of Vice, part of thy nature, by counteracting the dictates of juflice and hu- manity ? Doft thou follow nature, when thou rendered thyfelf an ufelefs animal on the earth; and not ufelefs only, but noxi- ous to the fociety to which thou belongeft, and to which thou art a difgrace; noxious, by the bad example thou haft fet ; noxious, by the crimes thou haft committed ; facrificing innocence to thy guilty pleafures, and introducing fliame and ruin into the habita- tions of peace ; defrauding of their due the unfufpicious who have trufted thee ; involving in the ruins of thy fortune many a wor- thy family ; reducing the induftrious and the aged to mifery and want ; by all which, if thou haft efcaped the delerved fword of juftice, thou haft at leaft brought on thyfelf the refentment, and the reproach of all the refpectable and the worthy. Tremble then at the view of the gulph which is opening before thee. Look with horror at the precipice, on the brink of which thou ftandeft : and if yet a moment be left for retreat, think how thou may eft efcape, and be faved. This brings me to what I propofed as the next head of dif- courfe ; to ibggeft fome means that may be ufed for ftopping in time the progrefs of fuch mifchiefs ; to point out fome remedies arrainft the fatal infection o^ evil cGinmunications. The firft and moft obvious is, to withdraw from all aflbciations with bad men, with perfons either of licentious principles, or of diibrderly conduct. I have fliown to what iiTus fuch dangerous connections are apt to bring men to at laft. Nothing, therefore, is of more importance for the young, to whom I now chiefly ad- drefs myfelf, than to be careful in the choice of their friends and companions. This choice is too frequently made without much thought, or is determined by fome cafual connecT;ion ; and yet, very ctren, the whole fate of their future life depends upon it. The circuaiftances which chiefly attract the liking and the friend- ftiip of youth, are vivacity, good humour, engaging manners, and p. chearful or eafy temper; qualities, 1 confefs, amiable in themfelves, and ufeful and valuable in their place. — But I intreat you to remember, that thefe are not all the qualities requifite to form an intimate companion or friend. Somethiijg more is ftill to be looked for ; a found underftanding, a fteady mind, a firm attachment to principle, to virtue^ and horiour. As only folid bodies On the Progrefs of Vice. 193 bodies polifli well, it is only on the fubftantial ground of tbefe manly endowments, that the other amiable qualities can receive their proper luftre. Deftitute of thefe efTeniial requifites, they ihine with no more than a linfel brilliancy. It may Ipajkle for a little, amidil a few circles of the frivolous, and fuperticial ; but it impofes not on the difcernment of the public. The world in general feldom, after a Ihort trial, judges amifs of the characters of men. You may be afTured, that its character of you will be formed by the company you frequent ; and how agreeable loever they may feem to be, if nothing is to be found among them but hollow qualities, and external accomplifljments, they foon fall down into the clafs, at bell, of the infignificant, perhaps of the .worth- lefs; and you fink, of courfe, iu the opinion of the public, into the fame defpicable rank. Allow me to warn you, that the mofl gay and pleafing, are fon7etimes the mod: infidious and dangerous companions; an ad- monition which refpe^ts both the fexes. Often they attach them- felves to you from interefted motives ; and if any taint or fufpicion lie on their charader, under the covoi'of your rank, your fortune or your good reputation, they feek protedion tor themfelves. Look round you then, with an attentive eye, and weigh charac- ters well before you connect yourfelves too clofely with any who court your fociety. He that "walketh with wife men JJudl be rvife : but a companion of fools Jliali be dejiroyed. W herefore, enter not thou into the counfel of the /corner. Walk ?20t in the way with evil men ; avoid it ; pafs not by it, turn from it, and pafs away. * Jn order to prevent the influence of evil communications, it is farther needful, that you fix to yourfelves certain principles of con - du6f, and be refolved and determined on no occalion to fwerve from them. Setting the confideration of religion and virtue afide, and attending merely to intereft and reputation, it will be found, that he who enters on adive life without having alcertained fome regular plan, according to which he is to guide himfelf, will be unprofperous in the whole of his fubfequent progrefs. But when conduct is viewed in a moral and religious light, the efted: of having fixed no principles of adion ; of hav- ing formed no laudable Ikndard of character, becomes more ob- vioufly fatal. For hence it is^ that the young aod thougbtlefs im- bibe * Prov, xiii. 20. Prov. iv, 14. 3^4 On ihe Prcgrefs of Vice. bibe fo readily tbe poifon of till ccmnMmcatiom, and fall a prey to every feducer. They have no internal guide whcm they are ac- cuftomed to follow and obey ; nothing v.ithin themfelves, that can give firmnefs to their conducl. They are of courfethe viftims of momentary inclination or caprice ; religious and good by ftarts, when, during the abfence of temptation and ten:pters, the vir- tuous principle ftirs v\ ithin them ; but never long the fame ; chang- iniT and fluciuating according to the pafllon that chances to rife, or the infiigation of thofe with whom they have connected them- I'elves. — They are failing on a dangerous fea, which abounds with rocks ; without compafs, by which to direcl their ccurfe, or helm, by which to guide the vefiel. Whereas, if they aded on a fyftem, if their behaviour made it appear that they were determined to conducl themfelves by certain rules and principles, not only would they efcape innumerable dangers, but they would ccmniund ref« ped from the licentious themielves. Evil doers would ceafe to lay their fnares for one w hem they favv moving above them, in a higher fphere, and with a more fteady courfe. As a farther corrective of cril curmrunkatlons^ and as a founda- tion to thofe principles which you lay down for condud, let me advife you fometinies to think ferioufly, of what conftitutes real enjoyment and happinefs. Your days cannot be entirely fpent in company and pleafure. How clofely foever you arc furrounded and befieged by evil companions, there muft be fome intervals, in which you are left by yourfelves ; v;hcn, after all the turbu- lence of amufement is over, your mind w ill naturally aflume a V^raver and more penfive caft. Thefe are precious intervals to you, if you knew their value. Seize that fobcr hour of retirement and filence. Indulge the meditations which then begin to rife. Call your eye backwards on what is paft of your life; look forward to what is probably to come. Think of the part ycu are now ail- ing ; and of what remains to be aded, perhaps to be fuflered, before you die. llien is the time to form your plans of happi- nefs, not merely for the next day, but for the general courfe of your life. Remember, that what is pleallng to you at twenty, will not be equally fo at forty or fifty years of age; and that what continues longell pleafmg, is always moft valuable. Recol- le6l your own feelings in diiterent fcenes cf life. Inquire on what On the Progrefs of Vice. t% what occafions you have felt the rrueft fatisfaflion ; whether days ot Ibbnety, and rational employnient, have not left behind them a more agreeable remembrance, than nights of licentioafnefs and riot. Look round you on the world ; refled on the different fo- cieties which have fallen under your obfervation ; and think who among them appear to enjoy life to mofl: advantage; whether they who, encircled by gay companions, are conftantly fatiguing themfelvcs in queft of pleafure ; or they to whom plealure comes unfuught, in the courfe of an adive, virtuous, and manly life. Compare together thefe two clalTes of mankind, and alk your own hearts, to which of them you would choofe to belong. If, in a happy moment, the light of truth begins to break in upon you, refufe not admittance to the ray. If your hearts fecretly re- proach you for the wrong choice you have made, bethink youjp*. ielves that the evil is not irreparable. Still there is time for re- pentance and retreat ; and a return to wildom, is alwayshonourable^ Were fuch meditations often indulged, the evil communtcations of finners would die away before them ; the force of their poifon would evaporate ; the world would begin to afliime in your eyes a new form and fhape. — Difdain not, in thefe folitary hours, to recoiled: what the wifeft have faid, and have written concerning human happinefs, and human vanity. Treat not their opinions, as etrulions merely of peeviflinefs or difappointment : but believe them to be, what they truly are, the refult of long experience, and thorough acquaintance, with the world. Coniider that the feafon of youth is paliing fafl away. It is time for you to be taking meafures for an eftablifliment in life; nay, it were wife to be looking forward to a placid enjoyment of old age. That is a period you wifh to fee; but how miferable when it arrives, if 1$ yield you nothing but the dregs of life; and prefent no retrof- ped, except that of a though tlefs, and di/honoured youth ! Let me once more advife you, to look forward fometimes be- yond old age ; to look to a future world. Amidft evil communica* tions, let your belief, and ycur character as Chriftians, arife tp your view. Think of the facred name in which you were baptiz- ed. Think of the God whom your fathers honouied and wor- fhipped; of the rehgion in which they trained you up; of the ve- nerable rites in which they brought you to partake. Their pater- :g " iial j()6 On the Progrefs of Vice. ^lal cares have now ceafed. They have finifiied their earthly courfe : and the time is coming when you muft follow them. You know that you are not to live always here ; and you furely do not believe that your exiftence is to end with this life. Into what world then are you next to go? Whom will you meet with there? Before whofe tribunal are you to appear? What account will you be able to give of your prefent trifling and irregular condud: to liim who made you? — Such thoughts may be treated as unfeafon- able intrufions. But intrude they fometimes will, whether you make them welcome or not. Better then, to allow them free re« ception when they come, and to confider fairly to what they lead. You have feen perfons die ; at Icaft, you have heard of your friends dying near you. Did it never enter into your minds, to think what their laft reflexions probably were in their concluding moments ; or what your own, in fuch a fituation, would be? — What would be then your hopes and fears ; what part you would then wi(h to have aded ; in what light your clofing eyes would then view this life, and this world? These are thoughts, my friends, too important to be always excluded. Thefe are things too folemn and awful to be trifled with. They are fuperior to all the ridicule of fools. They come home to every man's bofom, and are entitled to every man's liighefl: attention. Let us regard them as becomes reafonable and mortal creatures; and they will prove effedual antidotes to the evil cormnnnications of petulent fcoffers. When vice or folly arife to tempt us under flattering forms, let the ferious characler which .Ave bear as men, come alfo forward to view ; and let the folemn admonitions, with which I conclude, found full in our ears, I\jy Jbriy if finners entice thee, confent thou not. Come out from amongfl them, and he feparate. Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth n Fear the Lord, and depart from evil. The way of life is a- hove to the vj'ife ; and he that keepetb the commandment, keepeth his ewnfouL* SER- * Prcv. i. 10. 2 Corinth, vi. 17. Ecc/efxu. 1, Prov, xv. 24* SERMON XXXVIL On Fortitude. Psalm xxvH. 3. Though an hofi JJ^ould encamp againjl me, my heart fhall not fear, -^ THIS world is a region of danger, in which perfect fafety is poflelTed by no man. Though we live in times of eftabliflied tranquil J ity, when there is no ground to apprehend that an hoft fiiali, in the literal fenfe, encamp again/} us ; yet every man, from one quarter or other, has fornewhat to dread. Riches often make to themfe/vef wings and flee away. The firmeft health may in a mo- ment be (liaken. The moft flourifhing family may unexpectedly be fcattered. The appearances of our fecurity are frequently de- ceitful. — \Vhen our fey feems moll fettled and lerene, in fomeun- obferved quarter gathers the little black cloud, in which the tempef!: ferments, and prepares to difcharge itlelf on our head. Such is tiic real fituation of man in this world; and he who flatters him- felf with an oppofite view of his ftate, only lives in the paradife of fools. In this fituation, no quality is more requifite than conftancy, or fortitude of mind ; a quality which the Pfalmift appears, from the fentiment in the text, to have poffefled in an eminent degree. For- titude was juftly clafled by the ancient philofophers, among the cardinal virtues. It is indeed efTential to the fupport of them all ; and is moft necefTary to be acquired by every one who wiflies to difcharge with fidelity the duties of his ftation. It is the armour of the mind, which will fit him for encountering the trials, and furmounting the dangers that are likely to occur in the courfe of his life. It may be thought, perhaps, to be a quality, in fome meafure, conftitutional ; dependent on firmnefs of nerves, and ftrength of fpirits. Though; partly^ it is fo, yet experience fliows l()8 Ofi Fortitude, that it may alfo be acquired by principle, and be fortified by rea- son ; and it is only when thus acquired, and thus fortified, that it can be accounted to carry the charader of virtue. — Fortitude isop- pofed, as all know, to timidity, irrefolution, a feeble and wa\^r- jng fpirit. It is placed, like other virtues, in the middle between two extremes; {landing at an equal dillancefrom rafhnefson the one hand, and from pufillanimity on the other. — In difcourfing on this fubj.cl:, I purpofe, firfl, to fliow the importance of forti- tude or conilancy; next, to afcertain the grounds on which it muft reft; and, laftly, to fuggeft fome confiderations for aflifting the exercife of it. I. The high importance of fortitude will eafily appear, if we confider it as refpeding either the happinefs of human life, or the proper difcharge of its duties. "VV ITHOUT fome degree of fortitude there can be no happinefs ; becrjufe, amidit the thoufand uncertainties of life, there can be no enjoyment of tranquillity. The man of feeble and timorous fpi- rit, lives under perpetual alarms. He forefees every diftant dan- ger, and trembles. He explores the regions of poHibility, to dif- cover the dangers that may arife. Often he creates imaginary ones ; always magnifies thofe that are real. Hence, like a perlon haunt- ed by fpedres, he lofes the free enjoyment even of a fafe and profperous ftate. On the firft fliock of adverfity, he defponds. Inftead of exerting himfelf to lay hold on the refources that re- main, he gives up all for loft; and refigns himfelf to abjed: and broken fpirits. On the other hand, firmnefs of mind is the parent of tranquillity. It enables one to enjoy the prefent without difturb- ance: and to look calmly on dangers that approach, or evils that threaten in future. It fuggcfts good hopes. It fupplies refources^ It allows a man to retain the full poflbnion of himfelf, in every fi- 1 nation of fortune. Look into the heart of this man, and you will find compofure, cheerfulnefs, and magnanimity. Look into the heart of the other, and you will fee nothing but confufion, anxiety, and trepidation. The one is the caftle built on a rock, which defies the attacks of furrounding waters. The other is a hut placed on the ihore, which every v»^ind iliakes, and every wave overflows. If fortitude be thus eflential to the enjoyment of life, it is cqual- )> io, to ihe proper difcharge of all its nioft important duties. He ' On Fortitude. 199 He who is of a cowardly mind is, and rauil be, a Have to the world. He failiions his whole conduct according to its hopes and fears. He fmiles, and fawns, and betrays, from abjadl cowfiderations of per- fonal fafety. He is incapable of either conceiving, or executing, any great defign. He can neither (land the clamour of the multi- tude, nor the frown of the mighty. The wind of popular favour, or the threats of power, are fufficient to fliake his moft determin- ed purpofe. The world always knows where to find him. He may pretend to have principles ; but on every trying occafion, it will be feen, that his pretended principles bend to convenience and fafety. — The man of virtuous fortitude, again, follows the dilates of his heart, unembarrafled by thofe reftraints which lie up- on the timorous. Having once determined what is fit for him to do, no threatenings can Oiake, nor dangers appal him. He refls upon himfelf, fupported by a confcioufnefs of inward dignity. I do not fay that this difpofition alone, will fecure him againft every vice. He may be lifted up with pride. He may be feduced by pleafure. He may be hurried away by paffion. But at leaft on one quarter, he will be fafe ; by no abje^l fears milled into evil. Without this temper of mind, no man can be a thorough Chriftian, For his profefTion, as fuch, requires him to be fuperi- or to ihditfear of man which bringeth afnare; enjoins him, for the fake of a good confcience, to encounter every danger; and to be prepared, if called, even to lay down his life in the caufe of reli- gion and truth. All who have been diftinguiihed as fervants of God, or benefactors of men ; all who, in perilous fituations, have acted this part with fuch honour as to render their names illuftri- ous through fucceeding ages, have been eminent for fortitude of mind. Of this we have one confpicuous example in the Apoftle Paul, whom it will be inftru6i:ive for us to view in a remarkable occurrence of his life. After having long aded as the Apoflle of the Gentiles, his mifhon called him to go to Jerufalem, where he knew that he was to encounter the utmofl violence of his enemies. Juft before he fet fail, he called together the elders of his favour- ite church at Ephefus, and in a pathetic fpeech, which does great honour to his charader, gave them his lafl farewel. Deeply af- feded by their knowledge of the certain dangers to which he was expofing himfelF, all the afTembly were filled with diftrefs, and nielceii 200 On FortUuds, melted into tears. The circumlhnces were fuch, as \t\vAm have conveyed dejedion even into a refolute mind ; and would have totally overwhelmed the feeble, 7hey all wept fore, and fell en Paulas necky andkijjtd him ; forro^ving moji of all for the words which he fpakCy that they fiould fee bis face no more. What were then the fentiments, what was the language of this great and good man? Hear the words which fpuke his firm and undaunted mind. Behold, I go bound in thefpirit, unto Jerufalem, not knowing the things thatfiall befal me there ; fave that the Holy Chojl witneffeth in eve- 7'y cityjaying, that bonds and affadlions abide me. But none of thefe things move me ; neither count 1 my life dear unto myfelf, fo that I might ■pnif}') my courfe with joy, and the miniftry which 1 have received of the LordJefuSy to tefiify the gofpel of the grace of Cod, "^ There was uttered the voice, there breathed the fpirit, of a brave, and virtuous man. Such a man knows not what it is to ihrink from danger, when confcience points out his path. In that path he is determined to walk; let the confequences be what they wilK Till 1 die, 1 will not remove my integrity from me. My right eoufnefs j holdfafl, and will not let it go, Aly heart fJmll not reproach mefi long as I live.f *^ For me, there is a part appointed lo acT;. 1 go *< to perform it. My duty I lliall do to-day. Let to-morrow take *' thought for the things of ///^//.''^— Having thus fhown the import- ance, I proceed, II. To Ihow the proper foundation of conftancy and fortitude of mind. They are principally two; a good confcience, and truft in God. A CORRUPTED and guilty man, can poIFefs no true firmnefs of heart. He who by crooked paths, pur funs diflionourable ends, has many things to difmay him. He not only dreads the difappoint- ment of his defigns, by fome of thofe accidents to which all are expofed ; but he has alfo to dread the treachery of his confede- rates, the difcovery and reproach of the world, and the juO: dif- pleafure of Heaven. His fears he is obliged to conceal ; but while he aflumes the appearance of intrepidity before the world, he trembles within himfelf ; and the bold and Heady eye of inte- grity, frequently darts terror into his heart. There is, it is true, a fort of conftitutional courage, which fometimes has rendered men * AeU, XX, 22; 23, 24, 37; 3^'- ■\ M x^^'i^' 5; ^- On Fortitude, 20 r men daring in the moft flagitious attempts. But this fool-hardi- nefs of the raO), this boldnefs of the ruffian, is altogether different from real fortitude. It arifes merely from warmth of blood, from want of thought, and blindnefs to danger. As it forms no character of value, fo it appears only in occafional fallies; and ne- ver can be uniformly maiaiained. It requires adventitious props to fupport it; and in fome hour of trial, always fails. There can be no true courage, no regular perfevering conftancy but what is connected with principle, and founded on a confcioufnefs of rec- titude of intention. This, and this only, ereds that brazen wall which we can oppofe to every hoftile attack. It cloaths us with an armour, on which fortune will fpend its (hafts in vain. All is found within. There is no weak place, where we particularly dread a blow. There is no occafion for falfe colours to be hung out. No difguife is needed to cover us. V/e would be fatisfied if all mankind could look into our hearts. What has he to fear, who not only a(5ts on a plan which his confcience approves, but who knows that every good man, nay, the whole unbiafled world> if they could trace his hitentions, would juftify and approve his condud? He knows, at the fame time, that he is acting under the immediate eye and protection of the Almighty. Behold my witnefs is in heaven ; and my record is on high,* Here opens a new fource of fortitude to every virtuous man. The confcioufnefs of fuch an illuftri- ous fpectator, invigorates and animates him. He trufts, that the eternal lover of righteoufnefs not only beholds and approves, but will flrengthen and affifl: ; will notfuffer him to be unjuftly opprefs- ed, and will reward his conftancy in the end, with glory, honour, and immortality. A good confcience, thus fupported, beftows on the heart a much greater degree of intrepidity, than it could other- wife infpire. One who refts on the Almighty, though an invifi- ble Protedlor, exerts his powers with double force ; ads with vi- gour not his own. Accordingly, it was from this principle of trud in God, that the Pfalmift derived that courage and boldnefs, which he expreffes in the text. He had faid immediately before. The Lord is my light and my falvation ; the Lord is thejirength of my life. The confequence which directly follows iS; ofvjhomJJiall I he afraid^ Though * J oh xvi 19, 5051 On Fortitude. Though an hojl pould encamp ogainji me, my heart Jhall ml fear\ It re .11 .11 MS, III. That I rug:geft a few confiderations which may prove aux- iliary to the exercile of virtuous fortitude, in the midft of dangers. From what was juft now faid, it appears, firft, that it is of high importance to evtry one who wifhes to acl his part with becoming refolution, to cultivate a religious principle, and to be infpired with truft in God The imperfe^ions of the beftare indeed fo nume- rous, as to give them no title to claim, on their own account, the protcdion of heaven. But we are taught to believe, that the merciful God, who made us, and \\i\o knovjs our pame, favours the fincere and upright ; that the lupreme adiuiniiiration of the univerfe is always on the fide of truth and virtue ; and, that, there- fore, every worthy character, and every juft and good caufe, though for a while it ihould be deprefled, it is likely to receive countenance and protedion in the end. The more firmly this belief is rooted in the heart, its influence will be more powerful, in furmounting the fears which arife from a fenfe of our own weaknefs or danger. The records of all nations afford a ihoufand remarkable inftances of the effedl of this principle, both on individuals, and on bodies of men. Animated by the ftrong belief of a juft caule, and a proteding God, the feeble have waxed Jlrong, and have defpifed dangers, fufferings, and death. Handfuls of men have defied hojis that were encamped aga'inj} them-, and have gone forth, conquering and to conquer. The /word of the Lord and of Gideon, have called forth a valour which aftonifhed the world- and which could have been exerted by none but thofe who fought under a divine banner. In the next place, let him who would preferve fortitude in diffi- cult fituations, fill his mind with a fenfe of what conftitutes the true honour of man. It confifts not in the multitude of riches, or the elevation of rank; for experience (hows, that thefe may be pofTcfled by the worthlefs, as well as by the deierving. It confifts, in being deterred by no danger when duty calls us forth ; in fulfilling cur allotted part, whatever it may be, with faiihfulnels, bravery, and conftancy of mind. Thefe qualities never fail to ftamp diftindion on the charader. They confer on him who difco- rers them, an honourable fuperiority, which all, even enemies, feel and revere.— Let every man, therefore, wh^'n the hour of danger C>i Fortilude, SG'S danger comes, bethink himfelf, that now is arrived the hour of trial ; the hour which mufl: determine vvhetlier he is to rife, or lo fink for ever, in the eftee.n of all around him. If, wlien put to the teft, he dlfcovers no firmnefs to maintain his ground, no for- titude to (land a ihouk, he has forfeited every prttenlion to a man- ly mind. He mull reckon on being expofed to genera] contempt; and what is worfe, he will feel that he defervcs it. In his own eyes he will be contenjptible ; than which; furely, no mifery can be more fevere. But in order to acquire habits of fortitude, what is of the high- eft confequence is, to have formed a juft eftimate of the goods and evils of life, and of the value of life itfelf. For here lies the chief fource of our weaknefs and pufiilanimity. We overvalue the advantages of fortune; rank and riches, eafe and fafety. De- luded by vain opinions, we look to thefe as our uliimate goods. We hang upon them with fond attachment; and to forfeit any hope of advancement, to incur the leaft difcredic with the world or to be brought down but one ftep from the fiation we pofTefs, is re» garded with confternation and difinay. Hence, a ihoufand weights hang upon the mind, which deprefs its courage, and bend it to mean and diihonourable compliances. What fortitude can he pof- fefs, what worthy or generous purpofe can he form, who conceives diminution of rank, or lofs of fortune, to be the chief evils which man can fuffer ? Put thefe into the balance with true honour, with confcious integrity, with the eiieem of the virtuous and the wife, with the favour of Almighty God, with peace of mind, and hope of heaven ; and then think, Vv'hether tliofe dreaded evils are iuffi- cient to intimidate you from doing your duty. Look beyond ex^ ternal appearances to the infide of things. Suffer not yourfclves to be impofed on by that glittering varnifii, with which the fur- face of the world dazzles the vulgar. Confider how many are contented and happy without thofe advantages of fortune, on which you put fo extravagant a value. Ccnlidcr v hctber it is poflible for you to be happy with them, if, for their fake, you forfeit all that is eftimable in man. The favour of the great, perhaps, you think, is at ftake ; or that popularity with the multitude, on which you build plans of advancement. Alas! hov/ precarious are the jccans v.'hich you employ in order to attain the erid you iiave in viewj A a and 204 ^« Fortitude. and the end itfelf, how little is it worthy of your ambition? Thnt favour which you purfue, of dubious advantage when gained, is frequently loft by fervile compliance. The timid and abjed are detected, and defpifed even by thofe whom they court ; while the iirm and refolute rife in the end to thofe honors, which the otiier purfued in vain. Put the cafe at the word, Suppofe not your fortune only, but your fafety, to be in hazard; your life itfelf to be endangered, by adhering to confcience and virtue. Think what a creeping and ignominious ftate you would render life, if, when your duty calls, you would expofe it to no danger ; if by a daftardly behaviour, you Avould, at any expenfe preferve it. That life which you are fo •anxious to preferve, can at any rate be prolonged only for a few years more ; and thofe years may be full of woe. He who will not rilk death when confcience requires him to face it, ought to he afliamed to live. Confider, as a man and a Chriilian, for what purpofe life was given thee by Heaven, Was it, that thou jmio-rheft pafs a few years in low pleafure, and ignoble floth ; fly- 5no- into every corner to hide thyfelf, when the leaft danger rifes to view ? No : Life was given, that thou mightefc conje forth to 2(51 fome ufeful and honourable part, on that theatre where thou Jiaft been placed by Providence; mighteft glorify him that made thee; and by fteady perfeverance in virtue, rife in the end to an immortal flate. Son of man! Remember thine original honours. AlTert the dignity of thy nature. Shake off this puiillanimous dread of death j and feek to fulfil the ends for which thou wert fent forth by thy Creator. — The fentiment of a noble mind is, 7 cour.t not my life dear unto myfilf, fo that 1 may finifh my courfe ivithjoy. To the Jimfning of his courfe, let every one direct his eye ; and let him now appreciate life according to the value it will be found to have, when fummed up at the dole. That is the period which brings every thing to the teft. Illufions may formerly have impofed on the world : may have inipofed on the man himftlf. But all illufion then vanilhes. The real character comes forth. Tiie eflimate of happinefs is fairly formed. Hence it has been Juflly faici, that no man can be pronounced either great or happy, until liis laft hour come. To that kft hour, what will bring fuch faiitfac- tion, On Fortitude. 205 tion, or add ^o much dignity, as the reflection, on having fur- mounted with firmnefs all the difcouragements of the world, and having perfevered to the end in one uniform courfe of fidelity and honour? We remarked before, the magnanimous behaviour of the Apoftle Paul, when he had perfecution and diftrefs in full view. Hear now the fentiments of the fame great man, when the time of his laft fuffering approached ; and remark the majefty, and eafe with which he looked on death. / mn mix) ready to be offered J and the time of departure is at hand. 1 have fought the good fight. I have fimjlied my courfe. I have kepi the faiths Henceforth there is bid up for vie a crown of rigkteoufnefs .^ How many years of life does fucli a dying moment overbalance? Who would not chufe, in this manner, to go on the ftage, with fuch a fong of triumph in his mouth, rather than prolong his exiftence through a wretched old age, ftained with fin and iliame > Animated by thofe confiderations, let us nourifh that fortitude cff mind, which is fo eflemial to a man, and a Chriftian. Let no difcouragement, nor danger, deter us from doing what is right. Through honour and dijhonour, through good report and had report ,. let us preferve fidelity to our God and our Saviour. Though an hoft encamp again/} us, let us not fear to difcharge our duty, God affiles us in the virtuous eoiiflid ; and will crown the conqueror with eternal rewards. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will' give ihee a crown of life. To him that Qvercometh, faith our bleffed Lord, / will grant to fit with me on my throne ; even as I alfo overcatne, ^nd am fet down with my Father on his throne, f SER- * 2 Tim. iv. 6; 7. t Rev. ii, 10.— iii. 21, C 206 5 SERMON XXXVIIL On Envy. i'j; 'j!t -^ »-^ U'^ I Corinthians, xiii. 4, Chanty envieth « is a difpofition altogether unnaiural; it luits not the human con- Ititution, and partakes more of the rancour of an evil (pirit. Fence, the character of an envious man is univerfally odious. All dilclaim it; and they who feel themfelves under the influence of this paflion, carefully conceal it. But it is proper to confider, that among all our pafTions, both good and bad, there are many different gradations. Sometimes they fwim on the furface of the mind, without producing any internal agitation. They proceed no farther than the beginnings of paf- fion. Allayed by our conftitution, or tempered by the mixture of ether difpolitions, they exert no confiderable influence on the temper Oh Envy, 207 temper. Though the character in which envy forms the ruling paiTion, and reigns i.i all its force, be one too odious, I hope, to be common ; yet lome fhade, fome tindure, of this evil difpofition, mixes with molt charadlers in the world. It is, perhaps, one of the'moft prevailing infirmities to which we are fubjcd:. There are few but who, at one time or other, have found fomewhat of nature flirring within them; fome lurking uneafinefs in their mind, when ihey looked up to others, who enjoyed a greater fhare than had fallen to their lor, of fome advantages which they wirtied, and thought themfelves entitled to pofFefs. Though this fhould not embitter their difpofition ; though it lliould create the uneafinefs only, without the malignity of envy ; yet ftill it is a diilurbed ftate of mind ; and always borders upon, if it adually include not, fome vicious affections. In order, as far as poffible, to remedy this evil, 1 fliall now confider what arc the moil gene- ral grounds of the envy which men are apt to bear to others; and lliall examine what foundation they afford, for any degree of this troublefome and dangerous paffion. — The chief grounds of envy may be reduced to three : Accomplifhments of mind ; ad- vantages of birth^ rank, and fortune; fuperior fuccefs in worldly purfuits. I. Accomplishments, or endov^ments of the mind. The chief endowment for which man deferves to be valued, is virtue. This unqueftionably, forms the moft eftimable diftlndion among mankind. Yet this v;hich may appear furprifing, never forms any ground of envy. No man is envied for being more juft, more generous, more patient, or forgiving, than others. This may, in part, be owing to virtue producing in every one who beholds it, that high degree of rcfpedt and love, which extinguilhes envy. But probably, it is more owing to the good opinion which every one entertains of his own moral qualities. Some virtues, or, a^ leaft, the feeds of them, he finds within his breaft. Others, he vainly attributes to himfelf. Thofe in which he is plainly defici- ent, he undervalues ; as either not real virtues, or virtues of very inferior rank ; and refts fatisfied, that, on the whole, he is as wor- thy and refpeclable as his neighbour. The cafe is different, with regard to thofe mental abilities and powers which are afcribed to others. As long as thefe are exert- ed ^o^ On Erwy, ed in a fpliere of afllon remote fro;n ours, and not brought into competiuicn with talents of the fame kind, to which v^e have pre- tentions, they create no jealoufy. I'hey are viewed as diftant objeds, in which we have not any concern. It is not until they touch bur own line, and appear to rival us in what v;e wifh to excel, that they awaken envy. Even then, envy is, properly fpeaking, not grounded on the talents of others. For here, too, ^ur felf-coiiiplacency brings us relief; from the perfuafion, that were we thoroughly known, and full jullice done to us, our abi- lities would be found not inferior to thofe of our rivals. What properly occafions envy, is the fruit of the accomplifliments of o- thers; the pre-eminence which the opinion of the world beftovvs, or which we dread it will beftow, on their talents above ours. Hence, diftinguiihed fuperiority in genius, learning, eloquence, or any other of thofe various arts that attract the notice of the world, often become painful grounds of envy ; not indeed to all indifferently, but to thofe who follow the fame line of purfuit. Mere rivality, infpired by emulation, would carry no reproach ; were not that rivaiity joined with obliquity, and a malignant fpi- rit ; did it not lead to fecret detradion, and unfair methods of diminiOiing th^ reputation of others. Too frequently has fuch a fpirit tarniihed the character of thofe who iought to fhine in the elegant arts ; and Vv'ho, otherwife, had a juft title to fame. — Let fuch as are addicted to this infirmity, confider how much they deo-rade themfelves. Superior merit, of any kind, always refts on jtfelf. Confcious of what it deferves, it difdains low competitions and jealoulics. They who are flung with envy, efpecially when they allow its malignity to appear, confefs a kn^e of their ov.n inferiority ; and, in effed, pay homage to that merit from which they endeavour to detrad. But in order to eradicate the pafilon, and to cure the difquiet which it creates, let fuch perfons farther confider, how inconfider- able the advantage is which their rivals have gained, by any fupe- rioritv over them. They whom you envy, are themfelves infe- rior to others who follow the fame purfults. For how few, how very few have reached the fummit of excellence, in the art or fiu dy which they cultivate ? Even that degree of excellence which tbey have attained, how feldom is it allowed to them by the world, till On Envy. 2^^ till after they die? Public applaufe is the moft fluctuating, and uncertain of all rewards. Admired, as they may be, by a circle of their friends, they have to look up to others, who ftand above them in public opinion ; and undergo the fame mortifications which you fuifer in looking up to them. Confider what labour it has coft them to arrive at that degree of eminence tlify have gained ; and after all their labour, how imperfed their recompence is at laft. Within what narrow bounds is their fame confined? With what a number of humiliations is it mixed ? To how many are they abfolutely unknown ? Among thofe who know them, how many cenfure and decry them? — Attending fairly to thefe confi- derations, the envious might come in the end to difcern, that the fame acquired by any accompli Ihment of the mind, by all that fliill can contrive, or genius can execute, amounts to no more than a fmall elevation ; raifes the poiTeffor to fuch an inconliderable height above the crowd, that others may, without difquiet fit down contented with their own mediocrity, II. Advantages of fortune, fuperiority in birth, rank and riches, even qualifications of body and form, become p^rounds of envy. Among external advantages, ihofe which relate to the bo- dy ought certainly, in the comparative eftimation of ourfelves and others, to hold the loweft place ; as in the acquifition of them we can claim no merit, but muft afcribe them entirely to the gift of nature. Yet envy has often fliowed itlelf here in full malignity ; though a fmall meafure of reflexion might have difcovered that there was little or no ground for this palTion to arife. It would have proved a blelfing to multitudes, to have wanted thole advan- tages for which they are envied. How frequently, for inilance, has Beauty betrayed the pcirtflbrs of it into many a fnare, and brought upon them many a dilailer > Beheld v>'ith fpireful eyes by thofe who are their rivals, they, in the mean time, glow with no lefs envy againlt others by whom they are furpi-ilTed ; while, in the midif of their competitions, jealouiies, and concealed enmities, the fading flower is eafily blalted ; fiiort lived at the beif; and trifling, at any rate, in comparifon with the higher, and more lafting beauties of the mind. But of all the grounds of envy among men, fuperiority in rank and for tune is the jfloll general, Hsnce, the malignity which the poor 210 On Envy, poor commonly bear to the rich, as ingrofilng to themfelves sll the comforts of life. Hence, the evil eye with which perfons of infe- rior ftation fcrutinife thofe who are above them in rank; and if they approach to that rank, their envy is generally {tronged a- gainftfuch asarejuft one flep higher than themfelves. — Alas! my friends, all this envious difquietude, which agitates the world, arifes from a deceitful figure which impofes on the public view, Falfe colours are hung out : the real ftate of men is not what it leems to be. The order of fociety requires a diflinftion of ranks to take place ; but in point of happinefs, all men come much nearer to equality than is commonly imagined ; and the circun){iances which form any material difference of happinefs among them, are not of that nature which render them grounds of envy. The poor man polTenTes not, it is true, feme of the conveniences and plea- fures of the rich ; but, in return, he is free of many embarr?.ir- ments to which they are fubjeft. By the fimplicity and unifor- nnty of his life, he is delivered from that variety of cares, which perplex thofe who have great affairs to manage, intricate plans to purfue, many enemies, perhaps, to encounter in the purfuiu In the tranquillity of his fmall habitation, and private family, he enjoys a peace which is often unknown at courts. The gratifica- tions of nature, which are always the mod fatisfactory, are pollef- fed by him to their full extent; and if he be a llranger to the refined pleafures of the wealthy, he is unacquainted alfo v. ith the defire of them, and by confequence, feels no want. His plain meal fatisfies his appetite, with a relilh, probably, higher than that of the rich man, who fits down to his luxurious banquet. His deep is more found; his health more firm ; he knows not what fpleen, langor of lidlefTnefs are. His accudomed employments or labours are not more opprcilive to liim, than the labour of attendance on courts and the great, the labours of drcfs, the fatigue of a. niufements, the very weight of idlenefs, frequently are to the rich. In the n^ean time, all the beauty of the face of nature, all the enjoyments of domeitic fociety, all the gaiety and cheer- fulnefs of an eafy mind, are as open to him as w thofe of the high- eft rank. The fplendor of retinue, the found of titles, the ap- pearances of high refpe^L, arc indeed footliing, for a lliort lime; to the great. i3ut Ipecome familiar^ they are foon forgotten, Cudom On Envy^ 2it Cuftom effaces their impreflion. They fink into the rank of thofe ordinary things, which daily recur, without raifing any fenfation of joy. Ceafe, therefore, from looking up with difcontent and envy to thofe who.u birth or fortune have placed above you. Ad- juft the balance of happinefs fairly. When you think of the en- joyments you want, think alfo of the troubles from which you are free. Allow their juft value to the comforts you poflefs ; and you will find reafon to reft latisfied, with a very moderate, thougli not an opulent and fplendid condition of fortune. Often, did you know the whole, you would be inclined to pity the ftate of thofe whom you now envy, III; Superior fuccefs in the courfe of worldly purfuits, is a frequent ground of envy. Among all ranks of men, competitions arife. Wherever any favourite objeft is purfued in common, jea* loufies feldom fail to take place among thofe who are equally dc- firous of attaining it ; as in that ancient inftance recorded of Jo- feph's brethren, who hated iheir brother, becaufe their father loved him more than all the reji* " I could eafily bear,'' fays one, " that fome others fhould be more reputable or famous, fhould be *^ richer or greater, than I. It is but juft, that this man fliould en- ** joy the diftindlion to which his fplendid abilities have railed him, *« It is natural for that man, to command the refped: to which he " is entitled by his birth or his fank. But when I, and another, " have ftarted in the race of lite, upon equal terms and in the '« fame rank ; that he, without any pretenfion to uncommon merit, <« fhould have fuddenly fo far outftripped me ; flionld have en- ^' grolTed all that public favour to which I am no lefs entitled << than he; this is what I cannot bear ; my blood boils, my fpiric " fwells with indignation, at this undeferved treatment I have *< fuffered from the world.'' Complaints of this nature are often made, by them who feek to juftify the envy which they bear to their more profperous neighbours. But if fuch perfons wiih not to be thought unjuft, let me defire them to inquire v.'hether tfiey have been altogether fair in the comparifon they have made of their own meiit with that of their rivals; and whether they have not themfelves to blame, more than the world, for being left behind in the career of fortune. Th« world is not always B b blind * Cen^ XXX vii. 4. > 212 On Envy. blind or unjuft, in conferring its favours. Inflances indeed, fome. times, occur, of deferving perfons prevented, by a fucceflion of crofs incidents, from rifmg into public acceptance. But, in the ordinary courfe of things, merit, fboner or later, receives a re- ward ; while the greater part of men^- misfortunes and difappcint- ments can, generally, be traced to fome mifcondud of their own. Wifdom hringetb to. honour: The hand of the diligent maketh rich; and, it has been faid, not altogether without reafon, that, of his own fortune in life, every man is the chief artificer. If Jofeph was preferred by the father to all his brethren, his fubfequent conduct fhowed how well he merited the preference. Supposing, however, the world to have been unjuft, in an uncommon degree, with regard to you, this will not vindicate ma- lignity and envy towards a more profperous competitor. Ycu may accufe the world; but what reafon have you to bear ill-will to him, who has only improved the favour which the world fliow- cd him ? If, by means that are unfair, he has rifen ; and, to ad- vance himfelf, has acled injurioufly by you, refentment is jufli- fiable ; but if you cannot accufe him of any fuch improper con- dud:, his luccefs alone gives no faijclion to jour envy. You, perhaps, preferred the enjoyment of your eafe, to the ftir of a buly, or to the cares of a thoughtful life. Retired from the world, and following your favourite inclinations, you were not aUvays attentive to feize the opportunities which offered, for doing juftice to your charader, and improving your fituation. Ought you then to complain, if the more aclive and laborious have acquired what you were negligent to gain? Confider, that if you have ob- tained lefs preferment, you have poflefled more indulgence and €afe. Confider, moreover, that the rival to whom you look up with repining eyes, though more fortunate in the world, may perhaps, on the whole, not be more happy than you. He lias all the viciiliiudes of the world before him. He may have much to encounter, much to fuffer, from which you are proieded by the greater obfcurity of your flation. Every fituation in life, has both a bright and a dark fide. Let not your attention duell only on what is bright on the fide of thofe ycu envy, and dark on your own. But bringing into view both fides of your refpec- tive conditions^ eltimate fairly the fum of felicity. Thus On Envy, 213 Thus I have fuggefted feveral confiderations, for evincing the unreatbnablenefsof chatdifquietude which envy raifes in our brealb; confiderations which tend at leaft to mitigate and allay the work- ino-s of this malignant pafTion, and which, in a fober mind, ought totally to extinguiih it. The fcope of the whole has been, to promote, in every one, contentment with his own ftate. Mar.y arguments of a different nature may be employed againft envy ; fome taken from its fmful and criminal nature ; fome, from the mifchiefs to which it gives rife in the world ; others, from the raifery which it produces to him who nourifhes this viper in his bofom. But, undoubtedly, the moft efficacious arguments, are fuch as fliow, that the circumftances of others, compared with our own, afford no ground for envy. The miftaken ideas which are entertained, of the high importance of certain worldly advantages and diftinaions, form the principal caufe of our repining at our own lot, and envying that of others. To things light in them- felves, our imagination has added undue weight. Did we allow reflexion and wifdom to correft the prejudices which wehive im- bibed, and to difperfe thofe phantoms of our own creating, the aloom which overcafts us would gradually vanifh. Together with returning contentment, the fliy would cigar up, and every objedt brighten around us. It is in the fullen and dark fhade of difcon- tent, that noxious pafTions, like venemous animals, breed, and prey upon the heart. Envy is a pafTion of fo odious a nature, that not only it is con- cealed as much as pofTible from the world, but every man is glad to diffemble the appearance of it to his own heart. Hence, it is apt to grow upon him unperceived. Let him who is defirous to keep his heart chafte and pure from its influence, examine himfelf ftriclly on thofe difpofitions which he bears towards his profperous neighbours. Does he ever view, with fecret uneafinefs, the merit of others rifing into notice and diftindion ? Does he hear their praifes with unwilling ear ? Does he feel an inclination to deprecate, what he dares not openly blame ? When obliged to commend, does his cold and aukward approbation infmuate his belief of fome unknown defers in the applauded charader ? From fuch fymptoms as thefe, he may infer that the difeafe of envy is forming ; that the poifon is beginning to fpread its infedion over his heart, Tks '214 On EfWyl The caufes that nourifh envy are principally two ; ancj'two which, very frequently, operate in conjundion ; thefe are, pride and indolence. The connexion of pride with envy, is obvious and direct. The high value which the proud fet on their own merit, the unreafonable claims which they form on the world, and the injuftice which they fuppofe to be done to them by any preference given to others, are perpetual fources, firft of difcontent, and next of envy. When indolence is joined to pride, the difeafe of the mind becomes more inveterate and incurable. Pride leads men to claim more than they deferve. Indolence prevents them from obtaining what they might juftly claim. Difappointments follow; and fpleen, malignity, and envy, rage within them. The proud and indolent, are aUvays envious. Wrapt up in their own im- portance, they fit ftill, and repine, becaufe others are more prof- perous than they ; while, with all their high opinion of themfelves, they have done nothing either to deferve, or to acquire, profperi- ty. As, therefore, we value our virtue, or our peace, let us guard •gainfi: thefe two evil difpofitions of mind. Let us be mo- defl in our own efteem, and, by diligence and induftry, ftudy to ac- quire the efteem of others. So fliall we fhut up the avenues that ^ead to many a bad paffion ; and fliall learn, in -whatfotverftaie ive are, therewith to be content. Finally, in order to fubdue envy, let us bring often into view thofe religious confiderations which regard us particularly as Chriftians. Let us remember how unworthy we all are in the fight of God ; and how mush the blefhngs which each of us enjoy, are beyond what we deferve. Let us nourifh reverence and fubmifllon to that Divine government, which has appointed to every one fuch a condition in the world as is fittefl for him to pofTefs. Let us recoiled how oppofite the Chriftian fpirit is to envy ; and what facred obligations it lays upon us, to walk in love and charity towards one another. Indeed, when we reflect on the many miferies which abound in human life ; on the fcanty proportion of happinefs which any man is here allowed to enjoy ; on the fmall difference which the diverfity of fortune makes on that fcaniy proportion ; it is furprifing, that envy fliould ever have been a prev^alent paffion among men, much more that it fliould have prevailed among Chriflians. Where fo much is fuffered in common On Fortitude, 215 common, little room is left for envy. There is more occafion for pity and fympathy, and inclination to afTift each other. To our own good endeavours for redifying our difpofitions, let us not forget to add ferious prayers to the Author of our being, that he who made the heart of- man, and knows all its infirmities, would thoroughly purify our hearts from a palTion fo bafe, and fo crimi- nal, as envy. Create in me, God, a clean heart ; and renew a right fpirit within me. Search me, and knoiv my heart. Try me, and know my thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everla/iing.* * Pfalm, li. 10 ; cxxxix. 23, 24. SERMON SERMON XXXJX. On Idleness. n -&^"^ -cE'-n -^-"^ Matthew xx. 6. Why ft and ye here all the day Idle? IT is an obfervation which naturally occurs, and has been often made, that all the reprefentations of the Chriftian life in fcripture are taken from aclive fcenes; from carrying on a warfare, running a race, driving to enter in at a ftrait gate,' and, as in this context, labouring in a vineyard. Hence the conclufion plainly follows, that various aflive duties are required of the Chridian ; and that floth and indolence are inconfiftent with his hope of heaven. But it has been fometimes fuppofed, that induftry, as far as it is matter of duty, regards our fpiricual concerns and employments only; and that one might be very bufy as a Chriftian, who was very idle as a man. Hence, among fome denominations of Chrif- tians, an opinon has prevailed, that the perfection of religion was to be found in thofe monaftic retreats, where every aclive funflion of civil life was totally excluded, and the whole time of men filled up with exercifes of devotion. They who hold fuch opinions pro- ceed on the fuppofition that religion has little or no concern with the ordinary affairs of the world ; that its duties ftand apart by themfelves ; and mingle not in the intercourfe which men have with one another. The perfect Chriftian was imagined to live a fort of angelic life, fequeftered from the bufinefs or pleafures of this contemptible (late. The gofpej, on the contrary, reprefents the religion of Chrift as intended for the benefit of human fociety. It aflumes men as engaged in the bufmefs of active life ; and di- rects its exhortations, accordingly, to all ranks and ftations ; to the magiitrate and the fubjed, to the mafler and the fervant, ta the rich and the poor, to them that buy and them that fell, them that On I^ktje/s, 2iy that ufe and them that ahufe the world. Some duties, indeedj re- quire privacy and retreat. But the mofl: important muft be per- formed in the midft of the world, where we are commanded to flj'ine as lights^ and by our good works to glorify our Father which is in heaven. This world, as the context reprefents it, is God's vine- yard, where each of us has a tafk alfigned him to perform. In every ftation, and at every period of life, labour is required. At the third, the fixth, or the eleventh hour, we are commanded to work, if we would not incur, from the great Lord of the vine- yard, this reproof, Why /land ye here all the day idleP — We may, I confefs, be bufy about many things, and yet be found negligent of the one thing needful. We may be very active, and, withal, very ill employed, But though a perfon may be induftrious without being religious, I muft at the fame time admonifli you, that no man can be idle without being finful. This 1 fhaH endeavour to fhow in the fequel of the dilcourfe ; wherein I purpofe to reprove a vice vi'hich is too common among all ranks of men. Superiors admonifli their inferiors, and parents tell their children, that idlenefs is the mother of every fm ; while, in their own pradice, they often fet the example of what they reprobate feverely in others. I fhall (ludy to Ihow, that the idle man is, in every view, both fooli(h, and criminal; that he neither lives to God ; nor lives to the world; nor lives to himfelf. I. He lives not to God. The great and wife Creator certainly does nothing in vain. A fmall meafure of refledlion might con- vince every one, that for fome ufeful purpofe he was fent into the world. The nature of man bears no mark of infignificancy, or negled. He is placed at the head of all things here below. He is- furniihed with a great preparation of faculties and powers. He is enlightened by reafon with many important difcoveries ; even taught by revelation to eonfider himfelf as ranlomed, by the death of Chriit, from mifery ; and intended to rife, by gradual advances^ to a ftill higher rank in the univerfe of God. In fuch a fiiua- tion, thus dillinguiihed, thus favoured and affifted by his Creator, can he hope to be forgiven, if he aim at no improvement, if he purfue no ufeful defign, live for no other purpofe but to indulge in floth, to confurije the fruits of the earth, and to fpend his days ia a dreaiii of vanity I Exiitence is a facred truft j and he who ^i8 On Idlenefs, wlio thus niifemploys, and fquanders it away, is treacherous to rrt Author. — Look around you, and you will behold the whole uni- verle full of active powers. A6lion is, to fpeak fo, the genius of nature. By motion and exertion, the fyftem of being is preferv- ed in vigour. By its ditterent parts always ading in fubordina. tion one to another, the perfedion of the whole is carried on. The heavenly bodies perpetually revolve. Day and night inceflantly repeat their appointed courfe. Continual operations are going on in the earth, and in the waters. Nothing (lands ftill. All is alive, and flirring, throughout the univerfe. — In the rnidft of this animated and bufy fccne, is man alone to remain idle in his place \ Belongs it to him, to be the fole inactive and flothfnl being in the creation, when he has fo much allotted him to do ; when in fo many various ways he might improve his own nature, might ad. vance the glory of the God who made him ; and contribute his part to the general good \ Hardly is there any feeling of the human heart more natu- ral, or more univerfal, than that of our being accountable to God. It is, what the mofl profligate can never totally erafe, Almoft all nations have agreed in tlie belief, that there is to come fome period, when the Almighty will ad as the judge of his crea- tures, Prefentiments of this, work in every breaft, Confcience has already ercded a tribunal, on which it anticipates the fentence which at that period fhall be pafied. Before this tribunal let us fometimes place ourfelves in ferious thought, and confider what account we are prepared to give of our condud: to Him who mp.de us. " 'I placed you," the great Judge may then be fuppofed to fay, " in a ftation where you had many occafions for action, « and many opportunities of improvement. You were taught, <^ and you knew, your duty. Throughout a ccurfe of years I << continued your life. I furrounded you with friends, to whom <^ you might be ufeful. I gave you health, eafe, leifure, and va- '« rious advantages of fituation. — Where are the fruits of thofe « talents which you polTefled ? What good have you done with <^ them to yourfelves? what good toothers? How have you filled *' up your place, or anfwered your deflination in the world? <' Produce fome evidence, of your not having exited altogether << in vain,'^ — Let fuch as are now mere blanks in the world, and On Idlcneff, It^ and a burden to the earth, think what an anfwer they will give to thofe awful queftions. II. Thk idle live not to the world, and their fellow-creatures around them, any more than they do to God. Had any man a title to Ibnd alone, and to be independent of his fellows, he might then coniider himfelf as at liberty to indulge in fijlitary eafe and (loth, without being refponfible to others for the manner in which he chofe to live. But, on the face of the earth, there is no Rich perfon, from the king on his throne, to the beggar in his cottage. We are all connedled with one another, by various relations ; which create a chain of mutual dependence, reaching from the hip;heft to the loweil: flation in lociety. The order and happinefs of the world cannot be maintained, without a perpetual circula- tion of adtive duties and offices, which all are called upon to per- form in their turn. Superiors are no more independent of their inferiors, than thefe inferiors are of them. Each have demands and claims upon the other ; and he, who in any fituacion of life* refufes to a6l his part, and to contribute his fiiare to the general flock of felicity, deferves to be profcribed from fociety, as an un- worthy member. If any man will not ivork, fays the Apoftle Paul, neither pall he eat* If he will do nothing to advance the purpof- es of fociety, he has no title to enjoy the advantages of it. It is fometirnes fuppofed, that induflry and diligence are duties required of the poor alone, and that riches confer the priviledge of being idle. This is fo far from being juftiHed by reafon, how often foever it may obtain in fad, that the higher one is raifed in, the world, his obligation to be ufeful is proportionably increafed. The claims upon him, from various quarters, multiply. The fphere. of his adlive duties widens on every hand. Even fuppofing hija exempted from exerting himfelf in behalf of his inferiors, fuppofing the relation between fuperiors and inferiors aboliOied, the relation among equals muft ftiU fubfift. If there be no man, however high in rank, who ftands not frequently in need of the good of. fices of his friends, does he think that he owes nothing to them in return? Can he fold his arms in felfifii indolence, and exped to be ferved by others if he will not exert himfelf, in doing fervice to any?— Were there no other call to iiiduilry, but the relation C c h\ * 2 rhef, iii, ic. 110 On Idlenefs, in which every one rcands to his own family, (he remembrance of this alone, fhoulcl make the man of icilenefs blufli. Pretends he to love thofe with whom he is connected by the deareft ties, and yet will he not beflir himfelf for their guidance, their fupport, or their advancement in the world? How immoral, and cruel, is the part he acis, who (lumbers in fenfual eafe, while the wants and demands of a hclplefs family cry aloud, but cry in vain, for his vigorous exertions ? Is this a hufband, is this a father, that deferves to be honoured with thofe facrcd names? How many voices will ije lifted up againft him, at the laft day ? Let inch perfons reniem- .ber the awful words of fcripture, and tremble. It is written in the Firft Epiflle to Timothy, the fifth chapter, and eighth verfe, Jf any provide not for his own, andfpecially for thofe of his own houfe^ he hath denied the faith, and is worfe than an wfideL III. The idle man hves not to himfelf, with any more advan- tage than he lives to the world. It is indeed on a fuppofition en- tirely oppofite, that perfons of this character proceed. They ima- gine that, how deficient foever they may be in point of duty, they at leaft confult their own fatisfadion. They leave to others the drudgery of life; and betake themfelves, as they think, to the quarter of enjoyment and eafe. Now, in contradidion to this, 1 afTert, and hope to prove, that the idle man, firft, fliuts the door againfl all improvement ; next, that he opens it wide to every de- flrudive folly ; and laftly, that he excludes himfelf from the true enjoyment of pleafure. First, He fhuts the door againfl improvement of every kind, whether of mind, body, or fortune. The law of our nature, the condition under which we were placed from our birth, is, that no- thing good or great is to be acquired, without toil and induftry. A price is appointed by Providence to be paid for every thing ; and the price of improvement, is labour. Induftry, may, indeed^ be fometimes difappointed. The race may not be always to thefwijt, nor the battle to the ftrong. But, at the fame time, it is certain that, in the ordinary courfe of things, without ftrength, the bat- tle cannot be gained ; without fv/ifmefs, the race cannot be run with fuccefs. In all labour, fays the wife man, there Is profit ; but the foul of the fluggard defireth, and hath nothing,* If we confult either * Prjry. xiv. ^3. xiii. 3. On Idknefs. ■22t either the improvement of the mind, or the health of the body, it is well known that exercife is the great inftrument of promoting both. Sloth enfeebles, equally, the bodily and the mental powers. As in the animal fydem it engenders difeafe, fo on the faculties of the foul it brings a fatal rull, which corrodes and waftes them ; which, in a (liort time, reduces the brighteft genius to the fame level with the meaneli underftanding. The great differences which take place among men, are not owing to a diftin(lVion that nature has made in their original powers, fo much as to the fuperior diligence with which fome have improved thefe powers beyond o- thers. To no purpofe do we polTef* the feeds of many great abi- lities, if they arefuffered to lie dormant within us. It is not the latent polFeflion, but the adive exertion of them, which gives them merit. Thoufands, whom indolence has funk into contemp- tible obfcurity, might have come forward to the higheft diftindion, if idlenefs had not fruftrated the efFed of all their powers. Instead of going on to improvement, all things goto decline, with the idle man. His character falls into contempt. His for- tune is confumed. Diforder, confufion, and embarralTment^ mark his whole fituation. Oblerve in what lively colours the ftate of his affairs is defcribed by Solomon, / went by the field oj the ftoth-^ fulj and by the vineyard of the man void of under]} anding. And lo / it was all grown over with thorns ; and nettles had covered the facs thereof ; and the ft one wall thereof was broken down. Then If aw and cmfidered it well. I looked upon it, and received inftru^ion.-^ In the niidft, too, of thofe diftrelFes which idlenefs brings on its vota- ries, they muft fubmit to innumerable mortifications, which never tail to attend their fliameful conduct. They muft reckon, on fee^ ing themfelves contemned by the virtuous and wife, and flighted by the thriving part of mankind. They muft expe(^ to be left behind by every competitor for rank or fortune. They will be obliged to humble themfelves before perfons, now far their fupe- riofo in the world, whom, once, they would have difdained to acknowledge as their equals. — Is-it in this manner, that a man lives to himfelf ? Are thefe the advantages, which were expected to be found in the lap of eafe ? The down may at flrfl have appear- ed fofc : But it will foon be found to cover thorns innumerable. Hovj^ t Prov. xjciv, 30; 3 1; 32. 222 On Jdkucfs, How long 'Milt thoujlcepf Jluggard P IV hen wUt thu arife out of thy Jleep P Yet a little flcep ; yet a little (lumber , a little Joldhig of the hands to fkep. So f mil thy prverty come a; one that travelltth ; and ihy want as an armed man.X — ^JUt this is only a fmall part of the evils which peiTons of this deftription bring on themftlves : Yov, In the fecond pince, while in this manner they Hjiu the door ajrainil every improvement, they open it wide to the moll de- itruclive vices and lollies. 1 he liunian mind cannot remain al- ways unemployed. Its paflions muft have iome exercife. If we fupply them not Vv'ith proper employment, they are fnre to run loofe into riot and diforder. While we are unoccupied by what 3S good, evil is continually at hand ; and hence it is laid in Scrip- ture, that as fcon as Satan fctnul the houfe empty, he took poflef- fion, and filled it with evil fplrltsA Every man vvlio recolleds his condudi, may be fatisfied, that his hours of idlene's have al- ways proved the hours mod dangerous to virtue. It was then, that criminal defircs arofe ; guilty purfuits were iljggefled ; and defigns were formed, which, in their iflue, have difquieted and embittered his whole life. If feafons of idlenefs be dangerous, Avhat muft a contitnued habit of it prove? Habitual indolence, by a filent and fecret progrcfs, undermines every virtue in the Ibu). More violent pa(ilor:S run their courfe, and terminate, Tliey are like rapid torrents, which foam, and fvv-ell, and bear down every thing before them. But after having overflowed their banks, their impetuofity fubfides. They return, by degrees, into their natu- lal channel; and the damage which they have done, can be re- paired. Sloth is like the fiowly. flowing, putrid flream, which flngnatcs in the marfh, breeds venomous animals, and poifonous plants ; and infecls with peftilential vapours the whole country round it. Having oikc tainted the foul, it leaves no part of it found ; and at the fame time, gives not thofe alarms to confci- cncc, vvhith the eruptions of bolder and fiercer emotions ofren oc- cafion. llie difcafe which it brings on, is creeping and infidious; and is, on that account, niore certainly niortal. One conftant effect of idlenefs, is to nourilh the paflions, and, of courfe, to heighten our demands for gratification; while it un- happily withdraws from us the proper means of gratifying thefe demands X Proi\ xxiv. 33, 3.]. § Ulatth, xii, 4.4. On iMenefs^ 223 demands. If the defires of the induftrious man be fet upon opu- lence or rank, upon the conveniencies, or the fplendour of life, he can accoinplifli his defires, by methods which are fair and allow- able. The idle man has the lame defires v/ith the indiillrious, but not the fame refources for compaHing his ends by hoaourable means. He mull therefore turn himfelf to feek by fraud, or by violence, what he cannot fubmit to acquire by indullry. Hence, the origin, of thofe multiplied crimes to which idlenefs is daily giving birth in the world ; and which contribute fo much to vio- late the order, and to difturb the peace, of fociety — In general, the children of idlenefs may be ranked under two denominations or clalTes of men ; both of whom may, too jufdy, be termed. The children of the devil. Either, incapable of any effort, they are fuch as fmk into abfolute meannefs of character, and content- edly wallow witii the druT'.kard and debauchee, among the herd of the fenfual ; until poverty overtake them, or difeafe cut them off: Or, they are fuch as, retaining fome remains of vigour, are im- pelled, by their paffions, to venture on a defperate attempt for re- trieving their ruined fortunes. In this cafe, they employ the art of the fraudulent gameiter to enfnare the unwary. They iiTue forth with the highv.'ayman to plunder on the road ; or with the thief and the robber, they infeft the city by night. From this cbfs, our prifons are peopled ; and by them the fcafTold is furnifa- ed with thofe melancholy admonitions, which are fo often deliver- ed from it to the crowd. Such are frequently the tragicaj, but well known, confequences of the vice againft v/hich I now warn you. In the third, and laft place, how dangerous foever idlenefs may be to virtue, are there not pleafures, it may be faid, which attend it ? Is there not ground to plead, that it brings a releafe from the oppreilive cares of the world ; and foothes the mind with a gentle fatisfaction, which is not to be found amidftthe toils of a bufyand a6live life? — This is an advantage which, lead of all others, we admit it to poQefs. In behalf of inceiTant labour, no man con- tends. Occallonal releafe from toil, and indulgence of eafe, ij» what nature demands, and virtue allows. But what we aifert is, that nothing is fo great an enemy to the lively and fpirited enjoy- ment of life, as a relaxed and indolent habit of mind. He whe knows «24 ^^ Idlenefs, knows nol what it is to labour, knows not what it is to enjoy reff.' The fehcitj; of huruan Jife, depends on the regular profecution of Ibme laudable purpofe or object, which keef)S awake and enlivens all our powers. Our happinefs confiib in the purfuit, much more than in the attainment, of any temporal good. Reft is agreeable; but it is only from preceding labours, that reft acquires its true reliih. When the mind is fufTered to remain in continual inac- tion, all its powers decay. It foon languiflies and fickens; and the pleafures which it propofed to obtain from reft, end in tedi- oufnefs and infipidity. To this, let that miferable fet of men bear witnefs, who, after fpending great part of their life in aftive in- duftry, have retired to what they fancied was to be a pleafing en- joyment of themfelves, in w^ealthy inadlivity, and profound repofe. Where they expeded to find an elyfium, they have found noihing but a drearj^ and comfortlefs wafte. Their days have dragged on, in uniform langour; with the melancholy remembrance often returning, of the chearful hours they paffed, when they were en* gaged in the honeft bufmefs, and labours of the world. We appeal to every one who has the leaft knowledge or obfer- vation of- life, whether the bufy, or the idle, have the moft agree- able enjoyment of themfelves? Compare them in their families. Compare them in the focieties with which they mingle ; and re- mark, which of them difcover moft cheerfulnefs and gaiety ; which polTcfs the moft regular flow of fpirits ; whofe temper is moft equal . whofe good humour, moft unclouded. While the adive and di- ligent both enliven, and enjoy, fociety, the idle are not only a burden to themfelves, but a burden to thofe with whom they are conneded ; a nuifance to all whom they opprefs with their company. On whom does time hang fo heavy, as on the flothful and lazy? To whom arc the hours fo lingering? Who are fo often devour- ed with Ipleen, and obliged to fly to every expedient which can help them to get rid of themfelves ? Inftead of producing tranquil- lity, indolence produces a fretful rcftlefsnefs of mind ; gives rife to cravings which are never fatisfied; nourilhesa fickly efleminate delicacy, which fours and corrupts every pleafure. Enough has now been faid to convince every thinking perfon of the folly, the guilt, and the mifery, of an idle ftaie. Let thefe admonitions ftir us up, to exert ourfelves in our different occupa- tions On Idknefs. ^ig tionswitli that virtaous activity which becomes men andChriftians, Let us arife from the bed of floth ; diftribute our time with atten- tion and care; and improve to advantage the opportunities, which Providence has beftowed. The material bufinefs in which our fe- veral ftations engage us, may often prove not fufFicient to occupy the whole of our time and attention. In the life even of bufy men, there are frequent intervals of leifure. Let them take care, that into thefe, none of the vices of idlenefs creep. Let fome fecon- dary, fome fubfidiary employment, of a fair and laudable kind, be aUvays at hand to fill up thofe vacant places of life, which too ma- ny afTign, either to corrupting amufements, or to mere inadion. We ought never to forget, that entire idlenefs always borders either on mifery, or on guilt. At the lame time, let the courfe of our employments be order- ed in fuch a manner, that in carrying them on, we may be alfa promoting our eternal interell. With the bufinefs of the w orld, let us properly intermix the cxercifes of devotion. By religious duties, and virtuous adions, let us ftudy to prepare ourfelves for a better world. In. the midft of our labours for this life, it is ne- ver to be forgotten, that we mwUfirJi feek the kingdom of God, and his right eoufnefs ; and give diligence to make our calling and ele^iion fare, Otherv^ife, how adive foever we may feem to be, our whole ac- tivity will prove only a laborious idlenefs: We fhall appear in the end, to have been bufy to no purpofe, or to a purpofe worfe than none. Then only we fulfil the proper charader of Chriilians, when we join that pious zeal which becomes us as the fervants of God, with that induftry which is required of us, as good mem» bers of fociety ; when, according to the exhortation of the Apolllc;, we are found ml Jlothful in hufmefs, and at tlie lame time, ferv^rj in ffirit y ferving the Lord^^ SER. * Rom, xii, 11, I 226 ] SERMON XL. On the Sense of the Divine Presence, Psalm Ixxiii. 23. 1 am continually with thee ' w 'E live in a world which is full of the divine prefence and power. We behold every where around us the tr?.ces of that fupreme goodnefs, which enlivens and fupports the univerfe. Day utterethjpeech of it to-day; and night fl^oiueth kmvjJedge cj it to.mght. Yet, furrounded as we are with the perfedions of God, meeting him wherever we go, and called upon by a thoufand objecfts, to confefs his prefence, it is both the misfortune and the crime of a great part of mankind, that they are flrangers to Him in whofe ■world they dwell. Occupied with nothing but their purfuits of intereft and pleafure, they pafs through this world, as though God were not there. The virtuous and reflecting are particular- ly diflinguilhed from the giddy and difiblute, by that habitual fenfe of the divine prefence which characterifes the former. To them, nothing appears void of God. They contemplate his perftctions in the works of nature ; and they trace his Providence in the in- cidents of life. When retired from the world, he often employs their meditations. When engaged in adion, he always influences their condudl. Wherever a pious man is, or whatever he does, in the ftyle of the text, he is continually with Cod. The happy efFev^ of this fentiment on the heart, is fully dif- played in the context. We fee it allaying all the difquiet which the Pfalmifl, in the preceding verfes, defcribes himlelf to have fuffered on account of the profperity of the wicked. The firfb refleclion which reftored tranquillity to his mind, was the remeni- kr^nce of the prefence Ql God. Nevcrthchf^, I am continually ; with On the Serif e of, kc. !i27 'whh thee ; thou hofl holden me by my right hand. He became fen* iible, that whatever d iltrefies the righteous might furfer for a time, they could not fail of being compenfated in the end, by that Al- mighty Proteflor, whofe propitious prefence ever contitiued to furround them. Whereupon follow thofe memorable exprelhons pf his truft and joy in God. Thou fh alt guiae me •with thy counjd ; and afterwards receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee f and there is none upon earth I defire hejides thee. There are principally two effeds, which the fenfe of the di- vine prefence is fitted to produce upon men, — One is, to reiirain them from vice ; the other, to encourage their virtue. Its ope- ration, as a check upon the finner, is obvious. The perpetual prefence of fo powerful and venerable a witnefs, is one of the nioft awful confideraiions which can be addrefTed to the diffoluie. It removes all the fecurity which fecrecy can be fup^jofed to give to crin)es. It aggravates the guilt of them, from being commit- ted in the face of the Almighty ; and has power to (tnke terror into the heart of the greateft criminal, in the midft of his mil'. deeds. — While this principle of religion thus checks and terrifies the finner, it produces alfo another effed, that of ftrengthenhig and comforting the good man, in the pradice of his duty. It is the influence of the divine prefence on good men, which, in con- fequence of the Pfalmift's fentiment, I purpofe to confider. To their charader, it belongs to he continually -AJith God. I fliall en- deavour to fliow the high benefit and comfort which they derive from fuch a habit of mind ; and fnall^ for this end, firfi confider their internal moral ftate ; and next, view them as they are aU feded by feveral of the external accidents and fituations of jife. Let us begin with confidering them in their internal ftate. The belief of the divine prefence ads upon them here, firit, as an incitement to virtue. The prefence of one whom we highly efleem and revere, of a fovereign, for inffance, a father, or a friend, whofe approbation we are folicitous to gain, is always found to exalt the powers of men, to refine, and improve their behaviour. Hence, it has been given as a rule by ancient moraiifh-, that, in order to excel in virtue, we fnould propound to ourfelves fome. perfbn of eminent and diltinguifhed worth ; and fhould ^c- E) d cullorn 223 On the Senft rf cuflom ourfelves fo a£l, as if he were {landing by, and beholding us. l^o the efteem and approbation of their fellow-creatures, none are irifenfible. There are few v;ho, in the confpicuous parts of their life, when they know the eyes of the public to be fixed on them, a6l not their part with propriety and decornm. — But wh'at is the obfervation of the public, what is the prefence of the greateft or wileft man on earth, to that prefence of the Divi- Jiity which conftantly furrounds us ? The man who realifes tc his mind this augult prefence, feels a conflant incentive for ac- quitting hiinfelf with dignity. He views himfelf as placed on an illuilrious theatre. To have the Almighty for the fpe(51ator and witnefs of his conduct, is more to him than if the whole world were afTembled to obferve him. Men judge often falfely, always imperfectly, of what paiTes before them. They are impofed on by fpecious appearances ; and the artful carry away the praife which is due to the deferving. Even fuppcfing them to judge fairly, we may want the opportunity of doing juftice to our cha- racter, by any proper difplay of it in the fight of the world. Our fituation may bury in obfcurity, thofe talents and virtues v.hich were entitled to command the higheft efteem. But he, in whofe prefence the good man a6ts, is both an impartial, and an unerring judge of worth. No fallacious appearances impofe on him. No fecret virtue is hidden from him. He is attentive equally to the meaneft and the greateft; and his approbation con- fers eternal rewards. The man, therefore, vihofits the Lord ai- rways before hbrij is prompted to excel in virtue by motives which are peculiar to himfelf, and which engage, on the fide of duty, both honor and intereft. / kavc kept thy precepts^ fivJ thy tejiu monies ; jor all my ways are before thee, * Supposing, however, his virtuous endeavours to be faithful, many imperfections will attend them. A faultlefs tenor of un- blemifhed life, is beyond the reach of man. Pallions will fome- times overcome him ; and ambition or intereft, in an ur.guarded hour, will turn him afide into evil. Hence, he wall be afiiamed of himfelf, and difquieted by a fenfe of guilt and folly, in this ftate, to which we are often reduced by the weaknefs of human nature, the belief of God's coniiiiual prefence brings relief lo the * Pfa/m cxix. i68. the Divine Pre fence. 229 the heart. It acted before as an animating principle. It now acts as a principle of comfort. In the midft of nKiny imperfec- tions, a virtuous man appeals to his divine witnefs, for the fin- cerity of his intentions. He can appeal to him who knows his framCy that in the general train of his conduct, it is his ftudy to keep the law of God. Mere law, among men, is rigid and inflexible. As no hu- man law.giver can look into the hearts of his fubjects, he cannot, even though he were ever prefent with them, eilimate their cha- radler cxadly. He can make no allowance for particular fitua- tions. He muft prefcribe the fame terms to all whom he rules ; and treat all alike, according to their outward adtions. But eve- ry minute diverfity of character, temper, and fiiuation, is known to God. It is not only from what hisfervants do, but from what they feek to do, that he forms his judgment of them. He atteiids to all thofe circumiiances which render the trial of their virtue, at any time, peculiarly hard. He hears the whifper of devotion as it rifes in the foul. He beholds the tear of contrition which falls in fccret. He fees the good intention flruggling in its birth ; and purfues it, in its progrefs, through thofe various obftacles which may prevent it from ripening into adion. Good men, therefore, in their moft humbled and dejeded Ifate, draw fome confolation from his knowledge of their heart. Though they may fom.etimes have erred from the right path, they can look up to him who is ever with them, and fay, as an apoille, who had grievoCifly offended, once faid to his great Mafter; Lord thou kmiveji all things ; thou knoweji that 1 love ihee^* Appealing thus to their omnifcient witncfs, they are natural- ly foothed and encouraged by the hope of his clemency. At the fame time, it is the peculiar advantage of this fentiment of tiie di- vine prefence, that it prevents fuch hope from flattering them too much, or rifmg into undue prefumption. For while it encourages, it tends alfo to humble, a pious man. If it encourage him, by the reflection on all his good difpofitions being known and attend- ed to by God, it humbles him, by the remembrance, that hisjecret fins alfo are ever In the light of ihe divine countenance. So that, by dwelling under the fenfe of God being continually with us, we keep * John xxi. I, 2 no On the Senfe of keep alive the proper temper of a Chriftian in the foul ; humility, without dejedion ; fear, mingled with hope. We are cheered, without being lifted up. We feel ourfelves obnoxious to the all- obferving eye of juQice ; but are comforted with the thoughts oi" that mercy wliich, through Jefus Chrift, the Difcerner of all hearts holds forth to the fincere and penitent. Such are the blefs- ed eftefts which this principle of religion produces upon the in- ward moral Hate of a good man. Let us now, In the fecond place, confider his external circumftances ; and examine the influence which the fame principle has upon his hap- pinefs, in feveral different fituations of life. Let us firil view him in what the vi^orld calls profperiry; when his cuTumftances are eafy or affluent, and his life flows inafmooth untroubled ilream. Here, it might be thought, that a fenfe of the divine prelCiice could operate upon him only, or chiefly, for promoting temperance, and reitraining the diforders incident to a profperous ilate. Valuable effedls, indeed, thefe are ; and mofl conducive to the true enjoyment of all that is agreeable in life. But thougii it, doubtlefs, does exert this falutary influence, yet it Itops not there. It not only preferves the virtue of a good man amidfl the temptations of pleafure, but it gives to his profperi- ty a fecurity, and a peculiar relifli, which to others is ui.kimwn. Ke who is without a kn^Q of God upon his mind, beholds in hu- man affairs nothing but a perpetual fluduation, and viciflltude of events. He h furrounded with unknown caufes, which may be working his deftruclion in fecret. He cannot avoid perceiving, that there hangs over him the irrefidible arm of that Providence, whofe difpleafure he has done nothing to flay or avert. But he who,' in the day of profperity, dwells with God, is delivered from thofe difquieting alarms. He dwells as with a friend and prote<5lor, from whom he conceives his bleffings to proceed. He can appeal to him for the thankfulnefs with which he receives them ; and for his endciivours to employ them well. He trulls, that the God whom heferves will not forfake him ; that the good- nefs which he has already experienced, will continue to blefs him ; and though he believes hmdelf not exempted from the changes of the world, yet, in the midft of thefe, he has ground to hope, that fources of comfort and hanpinefs fliall always be left open to him. ' Morkover^ the Divine Prefence, 231 Moreover, the pleafures of life, while they laft, are unfpeak- ably heightened by the prefence of that Benefactor who beftows them. The pleafing emotion of gratitude to the giver, mingles with the enjoyment of the gift. W hile to the mere worldly man, the whole frame of nature is only a vaft irregular fabric; and the courfe of human affairs no more than a confufed fucceffiott of fortuitous events; all nature is beautified, and every agreeable incident is enlivened, to him who beholds God in all things. Hence arife a variety of pleafing fenfations, to fill up thofe folitary hours, in which external profperity fupplies him with no enter- tainment. In the fmiling fcenes of nature, he contemplates the benignity of its author. In ies fubliaie obje(^s, he admires his majefty. In its awful and terrible ones, he adores his power. He dwells in this world as in a magnificent temple, which is full of the glory of its founder ; and every where views nature offering up its incenfe to him, from a thoufand altars. Such ideas exalt and ennoble the human mind ; and refledt an additional luftre on the bright nefs of profperity. From the profperous, let us next turn to the alBi He enjoys the fatisfadion of thinking, that though he may be negledcd by men, he is not forgotten by God. Inconfi- derable as he is in himlelf, he knows, that he will not be overlook- ed by the Almighty, amidfl the infinite variety of beit)g, or loft in the immeniity of his works. The poor man can, with as much en- couragement as the rich or great, lift up his eyes to heaven, and fay, NeViTikeleJs^ Lord, I am cm'imtijHy with thee : Thou hoUeJt me by my right hand. The gracious pretence of that Supreme Being is afrcded by no diverfity of rank or Tortune. It imparts itfelf alike to all the virtuous and upright ; like its gloriousimage, the fun in the iiriaament, which Iheds its rays equally upon the humble cottage, and 23 1 On the Senfe rf and upon the palace of kings. In the prefenceof the great Lord, of heaven and earth, all the diilindions which vanity has contriv- ed to make among men, totally difappear. All ranks are on a le- vel. The rich and the poor here indeed meet together ; without any other diftindtion than what arifes from the heart and the foul. The fenfe of this, lifts the poor man above contempt; fupports his fpirits when apt to be dejefted ; and beflows dignity on the part which he acls. How inconfidcrabie foever that part may ap- pear in the eflimation of an injudicious world, it is ennobled when virtuoufly performed, by the approbation of his divine witnefs. He can bear with indifference the fcorn of the proud, as long as he knows, that there is one higher than the higheft to regard him. He can enjoy himfejf with pleafure in his mean habitation, becaufe he believes that Goii dwells with him there. The Divine prelence chears to him the moft lonely retreat. It accoaipanies his freps to the moft diiiant regions of the earth, If he fhould be driven in- to exile from all his friends, and obliged *o dwell in the uttermnj} part oj the fea, even there God's hand would hold him, and his right hand would guide him. Though left without companion or friend, he never thinks himfelf defulate, as long as he can fay, 1 am Jtill ivith God. But though raifed above obfcurity or poverty, yet, in any fi- tuation of fort^ne, calumny and reproach may be the lot of the fervant of God. His good intentions may be mifconftrued ; his character unjuftly traduced ; and, to the open reviling of enemies, the more bitter unkindnefs of friends may fometimes be joined. In this fitustion, when wounded in fpirit, and, perhaps, unable to make his innocence appear, to whom Ihall he have recourfe for defence, to whom make his laft appeal, but to that God who is ever prefent with him, and who knoweth his heart ? How fre- cjuently, amidft the injuftice and opreilion of the world, has dif- trelTed innocence had no other relief but this ? " God is my wit- '* nefs. God is my avenger. He hath feen it; and he will re- *' pay.'' A good confcience, it is true, is, of itfelf, a powerful fupport. But God is Lord of the confcience ; and it is only when €onne<^ed with a fenfe ot divine prelence and approbation, that a good confcience becomes a fteady principle of fortitude in the mind, under all difcouragements. HencC; a virtuous man poflels- the Divine Prefence, 233 cs a high degree of independence, both on the pralfe, and on the cenfiire of the world. It is enough to him, if, when undergo- ing the fame reproaches which Job fuffered froiii his niiftakeii friends, he can fay with him, Behold my witnefs is in heaven^ and my record is on high,* He afFed^s not to divulge his good deeds to the world. He is without concern whether the world be ac- quainted with them, or not. He icnoweth, that his Father which is in heaven feeth in fecret ; and that his prayers and his alms come up in grateful memorial before him. With me, it is a/mall thing to he judged of you ^ or of man's judgment ; he that judgeth me is the Lord.\ He /hall bring forth my righteoufnefs , at laft, as the light ^ and my judgment as the noon-day. In this confcioujnefs of integrity, he looks down with indifference, as from a fuperior ftation, upon the harlh cenfures of a giddy and ignorant world. The fenfe of be- ing continually with God diffufes over his foul a holy calm, which unjuft reproich cannot difturb. In the prefence of that auguft and venerable witnefs, all the noife and clamours of men, like the niurmurings of a diftant ftorm, die away. Lastly, Suppofmg the chara6ier of a good man to be untaint- ed by reproach, fuppoiing alfo his external fitu^tion to be opulent or diilinguilhed, many, notwithftanding, and fevere, are the di- ftrelTes to which he may be expofed. Secret griefs may be prey- ing upon him ; and his heart left to feed in filence on its own bit- ternefs. He may labour under fore difeafe, and difcern his e,irth- ly frame gradually mouldering into dufl. He may be deprived of thofe friends and relatives who had been the chief comforts of his itate ; or may be obliged to prepare liimfelf for taking fare- wel of them for ever. In the midft of thefe vaiious afHiding fcenes of human life, no confolation can be mere powerful than what arifes from the prefence of a divine protector and guar- dian, to whom our cafe, with all its forrows, is perfectly known. To him^ fays the Pfalmirt, / poured out my complaint. I Jhowed before him my trouble. I looked on my right hand and vie^djed ;, but behold there was no man who cared for my foul, f (aid unto thee, Lord, thou art my rejuge. When my fpirii was overwhelmed with' in mff then thou knewej} my path.§ * Job. xvi. i9» f I Cor. iii, ^. § Pfalm cxhi, 2; 33 4. 234 ^^ ^^^^ ^^^fi ^f We all know, that to communicate our grief to a falthfnl friend, often gives eafe and relief to the burdened heart. Such communication we are encouraged to make, and luch relief we may expecfl: to find, in pouring out our heart before that God in ivhom compajpion flow. We may have no earthly friend to whom we can with full confidence difclofe all our forrows ; or we may want words in which to exprefs them. But God is the fearcher of all hearts; and the hearer of all prayers. To the iecret anguifli of the foul, he is no innattentive witnefs. Every groan which is heaved from the labouring bofom, though heard by no human ear, reaches his throne. As he knows our /rame, fo he remembers we are dufi ; and thenc« light ar'ifes to the upright in darknefs. For the hope naturally fprings, that this beneficent being will pity them, as a j other pitieth his children ; and in the midfl: of thofe diOrelTcs which the prefent circumftances of man render unavoidable, will fend them help from hisfandiuary. Surrounded with this companion- ate prefence of the Almighty, good men never viev/ themlelves as left in this vale of tears, to bear, folitary and alone, the whole weight of human w oe. In their dark, as well as in their brighter hours, God is with them. Even in that valley of the fliridow of death, where no friend, no comforter, can go along to aid them, he is with them ftill. In the laft extremity of nature, the rod and Jiaffofthe Shepherd of Ifrae I Juppori them. Thus I have fhown, though in an imperfecl manner, what benefits holy men derive from a habitual ieufe of the divine pre- fence. It animates and ftrengthens their virtue. It enlivens and brightens their profperity. — Under various forms of adverfi- ty, it affords them confolation and relief. Such confiderations, undoubtedly, form a Ih-ong argument in favour of a devout fpi- rit, and a virtuous life. But they are confiderations which may, probably, be regarded by fome, as ideal and vifionary ; requir- ing aid from a heated, or enthuliaftic fancy, in order to give them force. 1 readily admit, that amidft the hurry and turbu- lence of the world, it may be difiicult to bring thefe relig ous fentiHients as fully into view, as is necefiary for their making a juft imprelTion on the foul. This requires the effort of an in- icUigent and feeling mind ; and therefore cannot be expe(ftcd to be commonly found. To the uiirefieding crowd, noihii.g appears the' Divine Prefence* 235 appears real, but what is expofed to fenle. What is invifible, is the fame to them, as if it had no exiftence. But by ihe grofs- nefs of their own conceptions, they have no title to meafure thofe of others. While they affedt to treat ail conliderations taken from the fenle of the divine prefence, as vifionary and enthuliaftic, ic can, on the contrary, be clearly fhown, that they are founded on the mod certain and unqueftionable principles of reafon. They ef- fentially belong not only to revealed, but to natural, religion. Their reality can be denied by none, but thofe who deny that God ex- ifts, or that he governs the world. For, if he exilt, he muft un. doubtedly pervade and infpe^ the world which he governs. He muft know what is going on throughout his own univerfe ; and ei- pecially muft know what paffes within the hearts which he has made, and of which he is to judge. To be every where prefent, is the attribute of his nature, which, of all others, is the moft necefTa- ry to his adminiftration of the univerfe. This, accordingly, is an attribute which all religions have afcribed to him. All nations have believed in it. All focieties appeal to it, in the folemnities of an oath, by which they determine controverfies. This attri- bute being once admitted to belong to the Deity, the confequences which I have deduced from it, plainly and naturally follow : And every good man has ground to fay, Lord I am continually u^ith thee. c T- R E e S E R" "«r C ^3^ ] SERMON XLL On Patience. Luke xxi. 19. Th your patience po/fe/s ye your fouls. THE pofftjfion of our fouls is a very emphatical exprefTion. It defcribes that ftate in which a man has both the full com- mand, and the undifturbed enjoyment of himfelf ; in oppofition to his undergoing fome inward agitation which difcompofes his powers. Upon the leafl reflexion, it muft appear, how eflentisl fuch a ftate of mind is to happinefs. He only who thus pojejjes his foul, is capable of poflefTmg any other thing with advantage ; and in order to attain and preferve this felf-pofl'effion, the moft import- ant requifite is, the habitual exercife of patience, I KNOW that. patience is apt to be ranked, by many, among the more humble and obfcure virtues ; belonging chiefly to thofe who groan on a fick-bed, or who languifh in a prifon. If their fitua- tion be, happily, of a different kind, they imagine that there is no occafion for the difcipline of patience being preached to them* But I hope to make it appear, that, in every circumftance of life, PiO virtue is more important, both to duty and to happinefs ; or more requifite for forming a manly and worthy character. It is not confined to a fituation of continued adverfity. It principally, indeed, regards the difagreeable circumflance which are apt to occur. But, in our prefent ftate, the occurrence of thefe is fo fre- quent, that, in every condition of life, patience is inceA'antly call- ed forth. Profperity cannot be enjoyed, any more than adverfi- ty fupported, without it. It muft enter into the temper, and form the habit of the foul, if we would pafs through the world with tranquillity and honour. What I purpofe is, to point out fome of the chief occafions on which patience is required ; and to recom- mend On Patience* 237 n-end and enforce the exercife of it, in order to cur pojjtjjing our Jouls. I. Patience under provocations. The ^ide circle of human fo- eiety is diverfified by an endlefs variety of chara(^ers, difpofitions and paiTions. Uniformity is, in no refpe6l, the genius of the world. Every man is marked by fome peculiarity which diftingui flies him from another : and no where can two individuals be found who are exadlly, and in all refpeds, alike. Where fomuchdiverfity ob. tains, it cannot but happen, that, in the intercourfe which men are obliged to maintain, their tempers fhall often be ill adjufted to that intercourfe ; fliall jar, and interfere with each other. Hence, m every ftation, the higheft as well as the loweft, and in every con- dition of life, public, private, and domeftic, occafions of irritation frequently arife. We are provoked, fometimes, by the folly and levity of thofe with whom we are conneded ; fometimes by their indifference or negleft ; by the incivility of a friend, the haughti- nefs of a fuperior, or the infolent behaviour of one in lower fta- tion. Hardly a day pafTes, without fomewhat or other occurin^r, which ferves to ruffle the man of impatient fpirit. Of courfe fuch a man lives in a continual ftorm. He knows not what it is to enjoy a train of good humor. Servants, neighbours, friends, fpoufe, and children, all, through the unreftrained violence of his temper become fources of difturbancc and vexation to him. In vain is affluence, in vain are health and profperity. The leaft trifle is fuf- ficient to difcompofe his mind, and poilon his pleafures, His very amufements are mixed with turbulence and paflion. I WOULD befeech this man to confider, of what fmall moment the provocations which he receives, or at leaft imagines himfelf to receive, are really in themfelves ; but of what great moment he makes them, by fuffering them to deprive him of the pofleffion of himfelf. I would befeech him to confider, how many hours of happinefs he throws away, which a little more patience would allow him to enjoy ; and how much he puts it in the power of the moft infignificant perfons to render him miferable. " But '* who can expea,^' we hear him explain, '^ that he is to poflefs " the infenfibility of a ftone ? How is it poflible for human nature to *' endure fo many repeated provocations? or to bear calmly with fuch " unreafonable behaviour?''— My brother! if you can bear with no 233 ^« Patience, no inftance of nnrea Ton able behaviour, withdraw yourfelf from the world. You are no longer fit to live in it. Leave the intercourfe of men. Retreat to the mountain, and the defert ; orfliutyour- felf up in a cell. For here, in the niidll of fociety, ojfences muji come. Yen mi'^ht as well expc<.% when you behold a calm atmof- phere, and a clear Iky, that no clouds were ever to rife, and no winds to blow, as that your life was long to proceed, without re- ceiving provocations from human frailty. The carelefs and the imprudent, the giddy and the fickle, the ungrateful and the inter- elled, every where meet us. They are the briars and the thorns, with which the paths of human life are befet. He only who can liold his courfe among them with patience and equanimity, he who is prepared to bear what he nmft exped to happen, is worthy of the name of a man. Did you only preferve yourfelf compofed for a moment, yoa v/ould perceive the infignificancy of moft of thofe provocations which you magnify fo highly. When a few funs more have roll- ed over your head, the ftorm will have, of itfelf, fubfided ; the caufe of your prelent impatience and difturbance will be utterly forgotten. Can you not, then, anticipate this hour of calmnefs to yourfelf; and begin to enjoy the peace which it will certainly bring ? If others have behaved improperly, leave them to their own folly, without becoming the vi6lim of their caprice, and pu- nifliing yourfelf on their account. — Patience, in this exercife of it, cannot be too much (ludied by all who wifh their life to flow in a imooth ftreani. It is the reafon of a man, in oppofition to the pallion of a child. It is the enjoyment of peace, in oppofition to uproar and confuiion. He that hath no rule over his own fpirit, is like a ciiy that if broken down, and without walls, *-r^Tht next im- portani: exercife of patience is, II. Patience under difappointments, Thefe will often hap, pen to the belf and wifeft men. Sometimes, to the wifeft and hc(t concerted plans. They may happen too, not through any impru- dence of ihofe who have devifed the plan, not even through the malice or ill defign of others ; but ^lerely in confequcnce of fome of thofe erofs incidents of Hfe which could not be forefeen. On fuch occaiions, perfons of a warm and fanguinc tcn.per are pro- fit inly * Prov, x\v, 2S, On Patioise. 239 fently in a ferment. They had formed their hopes, as they think, upon the julteft grounds. They had waited long for fuc- cefs ; and borne with many delays. But when their defigns are brought to fo unexpeded an iHiie ; when, without any fault of their own, they find their hopes finally blafled, all patience for- fakes them ; they no longer poflfefs their fouls ; the moft paflion- ate exclamations break forth, '* To whom, except to them, *' could fuch a difappointment have happened? Since the crea- *^ tion of the world, was fuch a combination of difaftrous incidents *' ever beheld I Why are they doomed to be fo unfortunate be- *' yond all others?'^ ^Alas ! how unfkilfully have you calcu- lated the courfe of human events? How raflily and prefumptuouf- ly had you trufted to fuccefs? To whom was it ever given, to guard againft all the vicifTitudes which the fluctuating fafhhn of the world is incefTantly bringing about ? If one friend, to whom you looked up, has died, or another has loll: his influence and power ; if the opinion of the public is changed, and its favour has been withdrawn ; if Ibme miftakes have occurred to lefTen the good-will of a patron on whom you depended ; if, through the concurrence of thefe, or fuch like circumffances, a more fortunate rival has prevailed againft you ; what is there in all this, that dif- fers from the ordinary lot of man ? Are we not, each in his turn, doomed to experience the uncertainty of worldly purfuits? Why, then, aggravate our misfortunes by the unreafonable violence of an impatient fpirit ? If our defigns have failed through rafhnefs or mifconducl, let us blame ourfeives. It they have failed through circumftances which we could not prevent, let us fubmit to the fate of man ; and wait, with patience, till a more favourable op- portunity fhall occur of regaining ibccefs. Meanwhile, let us turn to the other fide of the profped:; and calmly confider how dubious it was, whether the fuccefs which we longed for, would have proved a blefTing. IVho knowdh what is good for man in this life? Perhaps, the accomplifliment of our deligns might have been pregnant with mifery. Perhaps, from our prefent difappointment, future profperity may rife. Of luch unlooked for ifllies, we all know there have been many examples. Who can tell; whether our cafe may not add one to the number I —At '^4^ ^^ Patience, — At any rate, let us recolJecl, that there is a Supreme Ruler, who tlifpofes of the affairs of men ; under whom, all fecond cauf- es work only as fubordinate agents. Looking up to that irrefifta- ble arm which is llretched over our heads, let us be calm ; let us fuhmit and adore. Either to defpsir or to rage, under difap- pointments, is finful. By the former, we injure ourfelvcs. By Tche latter, we infult Providence, and provoke its difpleafure to continue. To poffcf: our/ouls 'ni patience is, at once, our wifdom as men, and our duty as Chridians. The benefits of this virtue are fo often reaped in this world, that good policy alone would recommend it to every thinking man. Difappointments derange, and overcome, vulgar minds. The patient and the wife, by a proper improvement^ frequently make them contribute to their high advantage. -^Let me next recommend, III. Patience under reftraints. Numerous are the reftraintsim- pofed on us, by the nature of the human condition. To the re- ftraints of authority and law, all muft fubmit. The reftraints of education and difcipline lie on the young. Confiderations of health reftrain the indulgence of pleafure. Attentions to for- tune reflrain expence. Ptegard to friends, whom we are bound to pleafe j refpcd to eftablifhed cuftoms, and to the opinions of fo- ciety, impofe reflraints on our general behaviour. There is no man, in any rank of life, who is always at liberty to ad according as he would incline. In fome quarter or other, he is limited by circumftances, that either adually confine^ or that ought at lead to confine and reftraiu him. These reftraints, the impatient are apt to fcorn. They will needs burft the barriers which rcafon had erecled, or their fitua- tion had formed ; and without regard to confequences, give free fcope to their prefent wiili. Hence, many dangerous esceffes flow ; much confufion and mifery are produced in human life* Had men the patience to fubmit to their condition, and to wait till it fliould allow them a freer ir.dulgencc of- their defires, they' might, in a fliort time, obtain the power of gratifying them with fafety. If the young, for infiance, would undergo, with pati- ence, the labours of education, they would rife, at a proper period, to honour, riches, or eafe. If the infirm would, vv'ith patience_> bear the regulations which their conflimtiou demands, they might On Patience^ 24 1 i^gain the comforts of health. If perfons of ftraitened fortune had patience to conform themfelves to their circumitances, and to abridge their pleafures, they might, by degrees, improve and ad- vance their ftate. Whereas, by eagernefs of temper, and pre- cipitancy of indulgence, they forfeit all the advantages which pa- tience would have procured ; and incur the oppofite evils to their full extent. In the prcfent ftate of human affairs, no lefTon is more necef- fary to be learned by all, to be inculcated on the young, and to be praclifed by the old, than that af patient fubmiflion to necef- fity. For under the law of necefilty, we are all inevitably placed. No man is, or can be, always his own mafter. VVe are obliged, in a thouland cafes, to fubmit and obey. The difcipline of pa- tience preferves our minds eafy, by conforming them to our ftate. By the impetuofity of an impatient and unfubmitting temper, we fight againft an unconquerable power; and aggravate the evils we muft endure. — Another important exercife of the virtue concern- ing which we difcourfe, is, IV. Patience under injuries and wrongs. To thefe, amidft the prefent confufion of the world, all are expofed. No ftation is fo high, no power fo great, no character fo unblemiflied, as to exempt men from being attacked by ralhnefs, malice, or envy. To behave under fuch attacks with due patience and modera- tion, is, it muft be confeiTed, one of the moft trying exercifes of virtue.—- But, in order to prevent miftakes on this fubjed:, it is necefTary to obferve, that a tame fubmiffion to wrongs is not re- quired by religion. We are, by no means, to imagine, that re- ligion tends to extinguifli the lenfe of honor, or to fupprefs the exertion of a manly fpirit. It is under a falfe apprehenfion of this kind, that Chriftian patience is fometimes ftigmatifed in difcourfe, as no other than a different name for cowardice. On the contra- ry, every man of virtue ought to feel what is due to his charac- ter, and to fupport properly his own rights. Refentment of wrong,^is an ufeful principle in human nature; and for the wifeft purpoles, was implanted in cur frame. It is the neeeflary guard of private rights ; and the great reftraint on the infolence of the violent, who, if no refjftance were made, would trample on the gentle and peaceable. Re- •242 ^« PatleMCe, Resentment however, if not kept within due bounds, is \n hazard of rifing into fierce and cruel revenge. It is the office of patience to temper relentment by realbn Iry this view, it is rnofl: properly defcribed in the text, by a man's pojpjjnig hisjoul; act- ing the part which felf-dcfence, which juftice or honor, require him to a6l, without being traniportcd out of himfelf by the vehe- mence of anger ; or infilling on fuch degrees of reparation as bear no proportion to the wrong that he has fufFered. What propor- tion, for inftance, is there between the life of a man, and an af- front received by fome rafli exprelTion in converfation, which the wife would have flighted ; and which, in the courfe of a few weeks, xvould have been forgotten by every one ? How fantaflic^ then, how unjuftifiable, are thofc fuppofed laws of modern ho- nor, which for fuch an affront, require no lefs reparation than the death of a fellow-creature; and which, to obtain this repara- tion, require a man to endanger his own life? Laws, which as they have no foundation in realon, never received the leaft fanc- tion from any of the wife and poliflied nations of antiquity ; but were devifed in the darkefl ages of the world, and are derived to us from the ferocious barbarity of Gothic manners. Nothing is fo inconfiftent with felf-poirellion, as violent anger. It overpowers reafon ; confounds our ideas, diftorts the appearance, and blackens the colour, of every objedl. By the {lorm which it raifes within, and by the mifchiefs which it occafions without, it generally brings on the paflionate and revengeful man, greater mifery than he can bring on his enemy. Patience allays this deftruftive tempefl, by making room for the return of calm and fober thought. It fufpends the blow which fudden refentrnent was ready to inflicl. It difpofes us to attend to the alleviating circumftances, which may be difcovered in the midft of the wrongs we fuppofe ourfelves to have fuffered. Hence, it naturally inclines us to the moderate and o-entle fide ; and while it allows all proper meafures to be taken, both for fafeiy and for juft redrefs, it makes way for returning peace. Without fome degree of patience exercifed under injuries, human life would be rendered a flate of perpetual hoftility ; offences and retaliations would fucceed to one another in endles train ; and the world would become a field of blood. — It now reaiains to recommend, V. Patience On Pattenee* §4 j Vi Patience under adverfity and afHi£lIon. This is the moll common fenfe in which this virtue is underftood ; as it refped:^ difeafe, poverty, old age, lofs of friends, and the other calamities which are incident to human life. Though a man live many y^ars, and rejoice in thetn all, yet let him remember the days of darkntfsy for they fh all he many.* The various duties to which patience, un- der this view, gives rife, afford a larger fubjed to difcourfe than I am atprefent topurfue. In general, there are two chief exercife^ of patience under advernty ; one refpedling God, and another re- fpeding men. Patience, with refpeft to God, mufl:, in the days of trouble, fupprefs the rifmgs of a murmuring and rebellious fpirit. It mnft appear in that calm refignation to the will of heaven, which is exprefled in thofe pious fentiments of ancient good men: I nvas dumb ; I opened not my mouth, hecaufe thou didjJ it. It is the Lord, let him do what feemeth good in his eyes. Shall we receive good at. the hand of the Lord, andfoall we not receive evil alfo P This is loy- alty to the great Governor of the univerle. This is that reverer.Le which ^o well becomes creatures who know they are dependent, and who muft confefs themfelves to be fmful. Such a fpirit is fitted to sttra6t the favour of Heaven ; and to bring the fevere vifitation fooner to a clofe. Whereas the ftubborn and impatient, who fub- mit not themfelves to the decrees of the Molt High, require to be humbled and fubdued by a continuance of chafbfenient. Patience in adverfity, with refpe£l to men, muft appear by the compofure and tranquillity of our behaviour. The loud complaint, the querulous temper, and fretful fpirit, difgraee every charader. They Ihow a mind that is unmanned by miifortunes. We weak- en thereby the fympathy of others ; and eftrange them from the ofEces of kindnefs and comfort. The exertions of pity will be feeble, when it is mingled with contempt. At the fame time, by thus weakly yielding to adverfity, we allow its weight to bear us down with double prelfure. Patience, by preferving compolure within, refills the impreflion which trouble makes from without. By leaving the mind open to every confolaticn, it naturally tends to alleviate our burden. — To maintain a fteady and unbroken mind, amidft all the fliocks of the world, forms the higheft honour of a F f man. * Ecckf xi. 8. ^44 On Patience, man. Patience, on fuch occafions, riles to magnanimity. It /hows a great and noble mind, which is able to reft on itfelf, on God, and a good confcience; which can enjoy itfelf amidft all evils ; and would rather endure the greateft hardlhips, than fubmit to what was difhon Durable, in order to obtain relief. This gives proof of a ftrength that is derived from Heaven. It is a beam of the Im- mortal Light, fliining on the heart. Such patience, is the mofl complete triumph of religion and virtue; and accordingly it has ever charadterifed thofe whofe names have been tranfmitted with honour topofterity. It has ennobled the hero, the faint, and the martyr. We are troubled on every fide, yet not dtjlrejjed; ive are perplexed, hut not hi defpair ; perfecuted, hut not forfaken ; cajl down, hut not dejlroyed.* Thus I have traced Patience through feveral of its moft important operations, in different circumftanccs of life; under provocations; under difappointments ; under reftraints ; under injuries ; and un- der afflidions. We now fee, that it is a virtue of univerfal ufe. No man, in any condition, can pafs his days with tolerable com- fort, who has not learned to pradife it. His profperity will be continually difturbed ; and his adverfity will be clouded with double darknefs. He will be uneafy and troublefome to all with whom he is conneded; and will be more troublefome to himfelf than to any other. — Let me particularly advife thofe who wifli to cuL tivate fo neccffary a virtue, to begin their cultivation of it, on oc- cafions when fmall offences and provocations arile. It is a great, but common, error to imagine, that we are at liberty to give loofe reins to temper, among the trivial occurrences of life. No excufe for irritation and impatience, can be worfe, than what is taken from the perfon being inconfiderable, or the incident being flight, which threw us off our guard. With inconfiderable perlbns we are furrounded. Of flight incidents, the bulk of human life is com. pofed. In the raidft of thefe, the ruling temper of the mind is formed. It is only by moderation and felf-command then acquir- ed, that we can inure ourfelves to patience, when the great con- junctures of life fliall put it to a feverer trial. If neglected then, we fhall afterwards folicit its return in vain. If thou haft run with footmen, and they have wearied thee, how canfi thou contend with horf- €SP * 2 Cor, iv. d, 9, On Patience,. 245 es? And if in the land of peace, wheftin thou truflefi, ihey wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the fwellings of Jordan ?f In order to alTid us in the acqivfition of this grace, let ns often contemplate that great model of it, which isi difplayed in the whole life of our Saviour Jefus Chrift. Whofe temper was ever tried by more frequent provocations, more repeated difappointments,more flagrant injuries, or more fevere diftrefs? Yet, amidfl them all, we behold him patiently enduring the contradicHon of [inner 5 ; to their rudenefs, oppofing a mild and unruffled, though firm, fpirit : and, in the caufe of mankind, generoufly bearing with every in- dignity. Well might he fay. Learn of me, for I am meek and low- ly in heart. ^ Having fuch a high example before our eyes, let us be afhamed of thofe fallies of impatience which we fo often fuffer to break forth, in the midft of profperity. By a more manly tran- quillity and felf-comm^nd, let us difcover to the world, that, as men^ ^nd as Chriftians, we have learned in patience to pojfcfs our fouls ^ SER« •j- Jer, xil. 5^ § Maith. xi. 29* S E Pv M O N XLIL On Moderation, »— — c£'-^-^--n—^-"^-^ PhILIPPIANS IV. 5. Lei your moderation he known unto all men, — — THE prefent flate of man is neither doomed to conftant mife- ry, nor defigned for complete Iiappinefs. It is, in general, z mixed ftate, ot comfort and forrow, ot profperity and adverfity ; riCitber brightened by uninterrupted funfhine, nor overcaft with perpetual Oiade ; but fubjecl to alternate fucceflions of the one and the other. While fuch a (late forbids defpair, it alfo checks prefump- tion. It is equ?.lly adverfe to defpondency of mind, and to high ele-. vation of fpirits. The temper which befl: fuits it, is exprefled in the text by moderation; which, as the habitual tenor of the foul, the apoA tie exhorts us to difcoverin our whole condud ; let it be known unto cdl men. This virtue confifts in the equal balance of the foul. It imports fuch proper government of our pafTions and pleafures, as jfliall prevent us from running into extremes of any kind ; and ihall produce a calm and temperate frame of mind. It chiefly re- fpe6lsour conduft in that ftate, which comes under the defcription of eafe or profperity. Patience, of which I treated in the pre- ceding difcourfe, direds the proper regulation of the mind, un- der the difagreeable incidents of life. Moderation determines the bounds within which it fhould remain, when circumftances are agree- able or promifing. What I now purpofe is, to point out fome of the chief inftances in which Moderation ought to take place, and to ihew the importance of preferving it. I, Moderation in our wifhes. The active mind of man fel- dom or ne\*er refts fatisfied with its prefent condition, how prof- perous foever. Originally formed for a wider range of objeas^ tor a higher {inhere of ej^joyments, it finds irfelf, in every fituation of On Moderation, 247 of fortune, ftraitened and confined. Senfible of deficiency in its ftate, it is ever fending forth the fond defire, the afpiring wifh, after fomething beyond what is enjoyed at prefent. Hence, that refllefsnefs which prevails fo generally among mankind. Hence, that difguft of pleafures which they have tried ; that pafiion for novelty ; that ambition of rifing to fome degree of eminence or felicity, of which they have formed to themlelves anindiflinclidea. All which may be confidered as indications of a certain native, ori- ginal greatnefsin the human foul, fwelling beyond the limits of its prefent condition ; and pointing at the higher objeds for which it was made. Happy, if thefe latent remains of our primitive ftate ferved to dired our wilhes towards their proper deftination, and to lead us into the path of true blifs ! But in this dark and bewildered flate, the afpiring tendency of our nature untortunately takes an oppofite direction, and feeds a very mifplaced ambition. The flattering appearances which here prefent themfelves to fenfe ; the diftindlions which fortune confers; the advantages and pleafures which we imagine the world to be capable of beflowing, fill up the ultimate wifh of moft men. Thefe are the objeds which engrofs their folitary mufings, snd ftimulate their a6live labours ; which warm the bread of the young, animate the induftry of the middle aged, and often keep alive the pafTions of the old, until the very clofe of life. Afluredly, there is nothing unlawful in our wifliing to be freed from whatever isdifagreeable, and to obtain a fuller enjoyment of the comforts of life. But when thefe wifhes are not tempered by reafon, they are in dan- ger of precipitating us into much extravagance and folly. Defines and wifiies are the firft fprings of adion. When they become ex- orbitant, the whole charader is likely to be tainted. If we fuf- fer our fancy to create to itfelf worlds ot ideal happinefs ; if we feed our imagination with plans of opulence and fplendour far beyond our rank ; if we fix to our wiflies certain ftages of high advancement, or certain degrees of uncommon reputation or dif. tinftlon, as the fole (lations of felicity ; the afTured confequence vv'ill be, that we fiiall become unhappy in our prefent ftate ; unfit for adling tiie parr, and difcharging the duties that belong to it ; we fhall difcompofe the peace and order of our minds, and fo- nient many hurtful pafiions. Here, then^ let Moderation begin its reign; 24B On Mode rat tort . reign ; by bringing within reafonable bounds the wifhes that we form. As foon as they become extravagant, let us check them by proper reflexions on the fallacious nature of thofe objedts, which the world hangs out to allure defire. You have ftrayed, my friends, from the road which conduces to felicity ; you have diflionored the native dignity of your fouls, in allowing your wifhes to terminate on nothing higher thaa worldly ideas of greatnefs or happinefs. Your imagination roves in a land of fliadows, Unreal forms deceive you. It is no more than a phantom, an illufion of happinefs, which attrads your fond admiration ; nay, an illufion of happinefs which often conceals much real miiery. Do you imagine, that all are happy, who have attained to thofe fummits of diftinftion, towards which your wiflies afpire? Alas! how frequently has experience fliewed, that where rofes were fuppofed to bloom, nothing but briars and thorns grew ? Reputation, beauty, riches, grandeur, nay, roy- alty itfelf, would, many a time, have been gladly exchanged by the pofTefibrs, for that more quiet and humble ftation, with which you are now difiatisfied. With all that is fplendid and ihining in the world, it is decreed that there ihould mix many deep fhades of woe. On the elevated fituations of fortune, the great calami- ties of life chiefly fall. There the ftonn fpends its violence, and there the thunder breaks ; while fafe and unhurt, the inhabitant of the vale remains below. Retreat, then, from thofe vaia and pernicious excurfions of extravagant defire. Satisfy your^ felves with what is rational and attainable. Train your minds to moderate views of human life, and human happinefs. Remem" ber, and admire, the wifdom of Augur's wifli. Remove far from me vanily and lies. Give jne neither poverty nor riches. Feed me 'with fjod convenient for tne : Left 1 he fully and deny thee, and fay, who is the Lord? or left 1 be poor, andfteal, and take the name of my God in vain.* Let me recommend, II. Moderation in our purfuits. Wiflies and defires reft within. If immoderate and improper, though they taint the heart, yet fociety may not be affeded by them. The obfcure and harm- lefs individual may indulge his dreams, without difturbing the public peace. But when the adive purfuits in which we engage, rife * Prov, XXX, H, a. On Moderation. 249 Tjfe beyond moderation, they fill the world with great diforders ; often with flagrant crimes. This admonition chiefly refpects the ambitious men of the world. I lay not, that all ambition is to be condemned ; or that high purfuits ought, on every occafion, to be checked. Some men are formed by nature, for rifing into con- fpicuous ftations of life. In following the impulfe of their minds, and properly exerting the talents with which God has blelTed them, there is room for ambition to a6l in a laudable fphere, and to be- come the inftrument of much public good. But this may fafely be pronounced, that the bulk of men are ready to over-rate their own abilities, and to imagine themfelves equal to higher things than they were ever defigned for by nature. Be fober, there- fore, in fixing your aims, and planning your deftined purfuits. Beware of being led afide from the plain path of found and mode- rate condu(^, by thofe falfe lights which felf-flattery is always ready to hang out. By aiming at a mark too high, you may fall fliort of what it was within your power to have reached. Inflead of attaining to eminence, you may expofe yourfelves to derilion j nay, may bring upon your heads manifold difaflers. J fiy to e- very man that is amori.g you, not to think of himjdf more highly than hs ought to think f hut to think fober ly.* Whatever your aims be, there is one exercife of modera- tion which muft be enjoined to thofe of the greateft abilities, as well as to others ; that is, never to tranfgrefs the bounds of mo- ral duty. Amidft the warmth of purfuit, accuftom yourfelves to fubmit to the reftraints vhich religion and virtue, which propri- ety and decency, which regard to reputation and charadler, im- pofe. Think not that there are no barriers which ought to flop your progrefs. It is from a violent and impetuous fpirit that all the evils fpring, which are fo often found to accompany ambition. Hence, in private life, the laws of truth and honor are violated. Hence, in public contefts, the peace and v/elfare of nations have been fo often facrificed to the ambitious projeds of the great. Tlie man of moderation, as he is temperate in his wifhes, fo in his purfuits he is regulated by virtue, A good confcience is to him more valuable than any fuccefs. He is not lo much bent ©n the accomplifliment of any defign, as to take a difhonourable flep * Rom* xii. 3. 2£o On Moderation, ftep in order to compafs it. He can have patience. He can broc^k difappointments. He can yield to unfurniountable obftacles; and, by gentle and gradual progrefs, is more Hkely to fucceed in the end, than others are, by violence and irnpeiuonty. In his high- eft: enterprife, he wilhes not to have the appearance of a meteor, which fires the atmofphere ; or, of a comet, which aftonifhes the public, by its blazing, eccentric courfe ; but rather to refemble thofe ft:eady luminaries of heaven, which advance in their orbits, yN\i\\ a lilent and regular motion. He approves himfelf thereby to the virtuous, the wife, and difcerning ; and, by a temperate and unexceptionable condud, efcapes thofe dangers which perfonsof an oppofite defcription are perpetually ready to incur. HI. Be moderate in your expedations. When your flate is flourifhing, and the courfe of events proceeds according to your wifh, fuffer not your minds to be vainly lifted up. Flatter not yourfelves with high profpedsofthe increafmg favours of the world> and the continuing applaufe of men. Say not within your hearts. My mountain JiandsJJrongy and fo all never he moved. 1 fhall never fee adverfity. To-morrow Jim!/ be as this day, and more abundantly^ — You are betraying yourfelves ; you are laying a fure founda- tion of difappointment and mifery, when you allow your fancy to foar to fuch lofty pinnacles of confident hope. By building your houfe in this airy region, you are preparing for yourfelves a great and cruel fall. Your truji is the fpider^s weh. You may lean on your houfe ; but it fall not f and. Tou may hold it fa fi ; but it f? all not indure. For, to man on earth it was never granted, to gra- tify all his hopes; or to prelerve in one trad: of uninterrupted profperity, Unpleafing viciflitudes never fail to fucceed thofe that were grateful. The fafljion of the -world, how gay or fmiling fo- ever, pajfdh, and often palTeth fuddenly, away. By want of moderation in our hopes, we not only increafe de- iedion when difappointment comes, but we accelerate diiappoint- raent ; we bring forward, with greater fpeed difagreeable changes in our ftate. For the natural confequence of prefumptuous expec- tation, is rafhnefs in condud. He who indulges confident fecuri- ty, of courfe neglects due precautions ag;iinft the dangers that threaten him; and his fall will be forefeen, and prcdis^ed. He not only expofes himfelf unguarded to dangers, but he mukiplie? them On Moderation. 251 lliem ngainft himfflf. By prefumption and Vanir)^ he either pro- vokes enmity, or incurs contempt. The arrogant mind, and the proud hope, are equally contrary to religion, and to prudence. The world cannot bear luch a fpl- rit ; and Providence feldom fails to check it. The Almighty be- Iiolds with difpleafure thofe who, intoxicated with profperity, for- get their dependence on that Supreme Power which raifed them up. His awful government of the world, has been in nothing more confpicuous than in bringing /ow the lofty looks of man, andfcatter- ing the proud in the imagination of their minds. -^Is not this the great Babylon y which 1 have built by the might of my power, and /or the honour of my Majefiy .. meddle with his joy^ IT is well known, tl-iat men have always been much inclined to place their happinefs in the advantages of fortune, and the didinc- tions of rank. Hence thefe have been purfued by the multitude with fuch avidity, that every principle of honour, probity, and virtue, have been facrificed to the attainment of them. At the fame time, many circumftances might have convinced men, that fuppofmg them to be fuccefsful in the purfuit, it by no means fol- lowed, that happinefs was to be the reward. For if happinefs be, in truth, elTentialiy conneded with fplendid fortune, or exalt- ed rank, how comes it to pafs, that many in the inferior ftations of life, vifibly fpend their days with more comfort than they who oc- cupy the higher departments of the world ? Why does the beg- gar fmg, while the king is fad > A fmall meafure of refledion on our nature might fatisfy us, that there are other principles of hap. pinefs or mifery, too often overlooked by the world, which im- mediately afFea the heart, and operate there with greater force and power, than any circumftances of rank or fortune. This is the obfervation of the wife man in the text ; and what I now pur. pofe to illuftrate, I (hall take a view of the chief fources of that bitternefs which the heart knoweth, and of thatyoy with which ajlran- ger doth not intermeddle; and then fliall point out the proper im- provements to be made of the fubje«2:. If we inquire carefully into the fources of the joy or bitternefs of the heart, we fhall find, that they are chiefly two ; that they arife either from a man's own mind and temper ; or, from th& conne(5tiou ^5^ ^^ '^^ J^y^ <:onne(^ion in which he (lands with fome of his fellow-creatures. In other words, the circumftances whieh moft efientially affed e- very man's happinefs are, his perfonal charadler, and his fecial feelings. I. Every man's own mind and temper is, necefTarily, to him- felf, a fource of much inward joy or bitternefs. For every man, if we may be allowed the expreflion, is more conneded with him- felf, than with any external objedt. He is conftantly a companion tohimfelf in his own thoughts; and what he meets with there, muft, of all things, contribute moft to his happinefs or his difquiet. Whatever his condition in the world be, whether high or low, if he find no caufe to upbraid himfelf for his behaviour : if he be fatisfied that his condudl proceeds upon a rational plan ; if, amidft the failings incident to humanity, his confcience be, in the main, free from reproach, and his mind undifturbed by any difrnal pre- fages of futurity ; the foundation is laid for a placid and agreeable tenor of life. If to this you add a calm and cheerful temper, not eafily fretted or difturbed, not fubjed: to envy, nor prone to vio- lent pafiTion, much of that joy will be produced, which it is faid in the text, a Jlranger intermeddleth not with. For this is an intrinfic joy, independent of all foreign caufes. Tke upright man, as it is written, is fatisfied from himfelf. Undifturbed by the vexations of folly, or the remorfe of guilt, his nights will be peaceful, and his days ferene. His mind is a kingdom to itfelf. A good con- fcience, and a good temper, prepare, even in the midft of poverty a continual feafi. But how fadly will the fcene be reverfed, if the firft thoughts, which occur to a man concerning hmfelf, fliall be of a gloomy and threatening kind ; if his temper, inftead of calmnels and felf-en- joyment, fliall yield him nothing but difquiet and painful agitation ? In any i-ituation of fortune, is it poflible for him to be happy, whofe mind is in this troubled ftate? The fpir it of a man -will J uf urn kis infirmitiei ; hut a wounded fpirit, who can bear ? Vigour of mind, may enable a man tofuftain many fliocks of adverfity. In his fpi- rit, as long as it is found, he can find a refource, vvben other aux- iliaries fail. But if that which fliould (uftain him be enfeebled and broken ; if that to which he has refource for the cure of other for- rows, become itfelf the wounded part j to what quarter can he turn for relief? The and the Bitternefs of the Heart. 257 The wounds which the fpirit fuffers are owing chiefly to three caufes ; to folly, to paflion, or to guilt. They frequently origi- nate from folly ; that is, from vain, and improper purfuits, whicli^ though not directly criminal, are wnfuitable to a man's age, cha- rafter, or condition, in the world. In confequence of thefe, he beholds himfetf degraded and expofed ; and fufFers the pains of many a mortifying reflexion, and many a bumbling comparifon of himfelf with others. The diftrefs occafioned by a fenfe of folly, is aggravated by any violent paflion being allowed to take pofieliion of the heart. Even though it be of the clafs of thofe which are reckoned innocent, yet, if it have entirely fiezed and overpow- ered a man, it deftroys his tranquillity, and brings his mind into a perturbed fl ate. But if it be a paflion of the black and vicious kirfcd;, it is fufficient to blaft the moft flourifhing condition, and to poifoo all his joys. If to thofe wounds inflidled by folly, or by paflion, you add the wound of guilt, the remorfe and fear produced by criminal deeds, you fill up the meafure of pain and bitternefs of heart. Often have the terrors of confcience occafioned inward paroxyfms, or violent agitations of mind. A dark and threaten- ing cloud leems, to the confcious finner, to be hanging over his head. He who believes himfelf deipifed, or hated, by men, and who dreads, at the fame time, an avenging God, can derive lit- tle pleafare from the external comforts of life. The bitternefs of his heart infufes itfelf into every draught wiiich pleaPjre offers to his lips. The external misfortuue of life, difappointments, poverty, and ficknefs, are nothing in comparifon of thofe inward diflrefs- cs of mind, occafioned by folly, by palfion, and by guiit. They may indeed prevail in different degrees, according as one or other of thofe principles of bittemeh is predominant. But they are feldom parted far afunder from one another ; and when, as it too often happens, all the three are complicated, they complete the mifery of man. The diforders of the mind, having then arifen to their height, becomes of all things the moft dreadful. The fliame of folly, the violence of paflion, and the remorle of guilt, ading in conjunclion, have too frequently driven men 10 the laft and abhorred refuge, of feeking relief in death from a life too eai« tittered to be any longer endured. I proceed to confider, II. ^58 Cn the Joy, II. Other troubles, and other joys of the heart, arifing from fources different from thofe that I have now defcribed ; founded in the relation or connexions which we have with others, and fpring- jng from the feelings which thefe occafion. Such caufes of forrow or joy are of an external narure. Religion does not teach, that all the fources of inward pleafui'e or pain are derived from our tem- pers and moral behaviour. Thefe are indeed the principal fpring of bitternefs and joy. In one way or other, they affcd all the plea- fures and pains of life ; but they include not, within themfelves, the whole of ihem. Our Creator did not intend, that the happinefs of each individual Pnould have no dependence on thofe who are around him. Having conneded us in fociety by many ties, it is his de- cree, that theie ties (liould prove, both during their fubfiftence, and in their dilTolution, caufes of plcafure or pain, immediately, and often deeply, afFecling the human heart, P^Iy doctrine, there« fore, is not, ih^iibe bitternefs which the hart knoweth as its own, and the joy with which a fir anger intermeddleth not, is independent of e- very thing external. What I alTert is, that this bitternefs, and this joy, depend much more on other caules, than on riches or poverty, on high or low ftations in the world ; that, equally in the conditions of elevated fortune, and of private life, the moft material circumftances of trouble or felicity, next to the ftate of our own mind and temper, are the fenfations and affections which anfe from the connedtions we have with others. In order to make this appear, let us fuppofe a man in any rank or condition of life, happy in his family and his friends; foothed by the cordial intercourfe of kind affections, which he partakes with them; enjoying the comfort of doing them good offices, and receiving in return their fincereft gratitude ; experiencing no jea- loufy nor envy, no difquiet or alienation of atfedion, among thefe with whom he is conncded ; how many, and how copious fources of inward joy open to fuch a man ! how fmooih is the te- nor of a life that proceeds in fuch a courfe ! What a fmiling a- fpea does the love of parents and children, of brothers and lifters, of friends and relations, give to every furrounding objecl:, and e- very returning day! With what a luftre docs it gild even the fmall habitation where fuch placid intercourfe dwells; where fuch fcenes of heart- felt fatiefiK^ion fucceed uninterruptedly to one an- other! ~ • ^^'T and the Billcjnefs of the Heart, 2^9 But let us fuppofe this joyful intercourfe to be broken off, in an untimely hour, by the cruel hand of the laft foe; let us ima- gine the family, once fo happy among themfelves, to behold the parent, the child, or the fpoufe, to whom their hearts were at- tached by the tendereft ties, ftretched on the cold bed of death ; then, what bitternefs does the heart know ! This, in the Uri^leffc fenfe, is its own bitternefs ; from which it is not in the power of a- ny external circumftance whatever to afford it relief. Amidft thofe piercing griefs of the heart, all ranks of life are levelled ; all di- flind:ions of fortune are forgotten. Unavailing are the trophies of iplendid woe, with which riches deck the fatal couch, to give the lead comfort to the mourner. The prince, and the peaianr, then equally feel their own bitternefs. Dwelling on the melan- choly remembrance of joys that are paft and gone, the one for- gets his poverty ; the other defpifes the gilded trappings of his ftate. Both^ in that fad hour, are fully fenfible, that on the fa- vours of fortune it depends not to make man happy in this world. But it is not only the death of friends, which, in the midft of a feemingly profperous ftate, is able to bring diftrefs home to the heart. From various failures in their conduct when living, arifes much of the inward uneafmefs we fufFer. It will, in general, be found, that the behaviour of thofe among whom we live in nenrcon^ nedion, is, next to perfonal chara£ler and temper, the chief fource, either of the pleafures or of the difquietudes, of every man's life* As, when their behaviour is cordial and fatisfa6lory, it is of all external things the moft foothing to the mind ; fo, on the other hand, their levity, their inattention, or occafional harflmefs, even though it proceed to no decided breach of friendfliip, yet rujffles and frets the temper. Social life, harraiTed with thofe petty vex- ation?, refembles a road which a man is doomed daily to travel ; but finds it rugged, ^nd ftony, and painful to be trod. Thk cafe becomes much v/orfe, if the bafe and criminal con- duct of perfons whom v.e have once loved, diflblve all the bonds of amity, and iliow that our confidence has been abufed. Then are opened, fome of the deeped fprings of bitternefs in the human heart. Behold the heart of the parent, torn by the unworthy behaviour and cruel ingratitude of the child, whom he had trained up with the fondefl hopes; on whom he had laviflied his whole af- H h fection l6o On the yoy, fedtion ; and for whofe Take he had laboured and toiled, through the courfe of a long life. Behold the endearments of the conjugal liate, changed into black fufpicion, and miflruft j the afFedionate fpoufe, or the virtuous hufband, left to mourn, with a broken heart, the infidelity of the once-beloved partner of their life. Be- hold the unfufpeding friend betrayed, in the hour of danger, by the friend in whom he trufted; or, in the midll of fevere misfor- tune, meeting nothing but cold indifference, perhaps fcorn and contempt, where he had expeded to find the kindeft fympathy. Are thefe, let me afk, uncommon Icenes in the world? Are fuch dirtrefTes peculiar to any rank or ftation ? Do they chiefly be- fal perfons in humble life, and have the great any prerogative ■which affords them exemption ? When the heart is forely wounded by the ingratitude or faithlefTnefs of thofe on whom it had leaned with the whole weight of aflfedlion, where fliall it turn for relief? Will it find comfort in the recollection of honours and titles, or in the contemplation of furrounding treafures? Talk not of the honours of a court. Talk not of the wealth of the eafl, Thefe, in the hour of heart-bitternefs, are ipurned, as contemp- tible and vile; perhaps curfed, as indirect caufes of the prefent difirefs. The dart has made its way to the heart. There, there, it is fixedt The very feat of feeling is affailed ; and in propor- tion to the fenlibility of the fufferer^s heart, and the tendernefs of his affedions, fuch, unfortunately, will be his degree of an- guifb, A good confcience, and hope in God, may indeed bring him confolation. But under fuch diflrefs of the heart, as I have defcribed, fortune, be it as fiourifhing as you will, is no more than an empty pageant. It is a feeble reed, which affords no fupport. It is a houfe of flraw, which is fcattered before the wind. Thus you fee this doctrine meeting us from many quarters, that the heart knows a bitternefs and a joy of its own, altogether diltind from the uneafinefs or the pleafure that is produced by the circumftances of external fortune ; arifing either from perfon- al charader, and the flate of a man's own mind; or from the alfedions excited by the relations in v.hich he itands to others. This joy, and this bitternefs, are, each of them, of fo much greater confequence than any diftindions of fortune, that bleffed with and the BlUernefs of the Heart. 261 with the former, one may be happy, as far as human happinefs goes, in a cottage ; and affli^nied with the latter, he muft be mife- rable in a palace. Let us now proceed to an important part of the fubje<5t, the practical improvement to which this doftrine leads. First, let it ferve to moderate our pafTion for riches, and high fituations in the world. It is well known, that the eager pnrfuit of thefe is the chief incentive to the crimes that fill the world. Hence, among the middle and lower ranks of men, all the traud, falfehood and treachery, with which the compe- tition for gain infefts fociety. Hence, in the higher ftations of the world, all the attrocious crimes flowing from ambition, and the love of power, by which^jthe peace of mankind has fo often been broken, and the earth ftained with blood. Had thefe coveted ad- vantages the power, when obtained, of enfuring joy to the heart, and rendering it a ftranger to bitternefs, fome apology might be offered for the violence to which they have given occafion. The price might be fuppofed worthy of being acquired at a high ex- pence, when fo much depended on the attainment. But I have fhown, I hope with fatisfa^tory evidence, that the contrary is the truth. I fay not, that the advantages of fortune deferve no re- gard from a wife or a good man. Poverty is always diftreffmg. Opulence and rank are both attended with many comforts, and may be rendered fubfervient to the moft valuable purpofes. But what I fay is, that it is a great error to rate them beyond their juft value. Secondary advantages, inferior affirtances to felicity, they are ; and no more. They rank below every thing that im- mediately affedts the heart ; and that is a native fource of joy or bitternefs there. If a man be either unhappy in his difpofitions, or unhappy in all his connedions, you heap upon him in vain, all the treafures, and all the honours, which kings can beftow. Di- ved thefe things, then, of that falfe glare which the opinions of the multitude throw around them. Contemplate them with a more impartial eye. Purfue them with lefs eagernefs. Above all, never facrifice to the purfuit any degree of probity or moral worth, of candor or good affedlion ; if you would not lay a foun- dation for that bitternels of heart, which none of the goods of fortune can either compenfate or cure. Secondly, ^62 On the Joy% Sfxondly, Let the obfervations which have been made, cor- red: our miftakes, and check our complaints, concerning a fuppof- ed promifcuous dirtribution of hyppinefs in this world. The charge of injufiice, which fo often, on this account, hath been brought againft Providence, refts entirely on this ground, that the happinefs and mifery of men may be eftimated by the degree of their external profperity. This is the delufion under which the multitude have always laboured ; but which a jufl: confidera- tion of the invifible fprings of happinefs that affect the heart, is fufficieiit to correct. If you would judge whether a man be real- ly happ)^, it is not folely to his houfes and his lands, to his equi- page and his retinue, you are to look. Unlefs you could fee farther, and difcern what joy, or v^'hat bitternefs, his heart feels, you can pronounce nothing concerning him. That proud and vicked man, whom you behold furrounded with ftate and fplen- dor, and upon whom you think the favours of Heaven fo impro- perly laviflied, may be a wretch, pining away in fecret, with a thoufand griefs unknown to the world. That poor man, who appears neglecled and overlooked, may, in his humble ftation, be partaking of all the moral, and all the focial joys, that exhilerate the heart ; may be living chearfu!, contented, and happy. Ceale, then, to muniuir againft difpenfations of Providence, which are, to us, fo imperfedly known. Envy not the profperity of finners. Judge not ot the real condition of men, from what floats merely on the furface of their ftate. Let us rather, Thirdly, Turn our attention to thofe internal fources of hap- pinefs or mifery, on which it hath been fliown that fo much de- pends. As far as the bitternefs or joy of the heart arifes from the firft of thofe great fprings which I affigned to it, our own condud and temper, fo far our happinefs is placed, in fome mea- fure, in our own hands. What is amifs or difordered within, in confequence of folly, of paffion, or guilt, may be redified by due care, under the afiiflance of divine grace. He who thereby at- tains to a tranquil and compofed ftate of heart, free from ill-hu- mour and difguft, from violent pafTions, and from vexing re- rnorfe, is laying a foundation for enjoyment of himfelf, much forer and broader, than if he were amaffing thcufands to in^ creafe his eftate. With and the Bltternefs of the Heart » 263 With regard to the o^her fpriiig of joy or bitternefs of heart, arifing froni our conneiflions with others, here indeed, we are more dependent on things not within our power. Thefe connec- tions are not always of our own forming; and even when they have been formed by choice, the wifeft are hable to be difappoint- ed in their expe^lations. Yet here too it will be found, that the proper regulation of the heart is of the utmoft importance, both for improving the joys which our fituation affords, and for miti- gating the griefs which our connexions may render unavoidable. As far as the choice of friends or relatives may depend on onrfelves, let their virtue and worth ever diredi: that choice, if we look for any lafting felicity from it. In all the habits and attachments of fecial life, after they are formed,^let it be our ftuJy, to fulfil pro- perly our own part. iJet nothing be wanting on our ^Ade, to nourifli that mutual harmony and afFedionate friendfliip which, in every fituation of life, as has been fliown, is of fo great confe- quence to our peace and fatisfa(5lion. It is not, indeed, in our power to preferve always alive thofe friends, in whom our hearts delight. It is often not in our power to prevent the ingratitude and unworthy behaviour of other friends, from whom we once expelled comfort. But under thofe aiflidling incidents of life, much may be done by proper employment of the thoughts, and direction of the aflfedions, for obtaining relief. To a purified and well-regulated heart, reafon and religion can bring many aids for healing its wounds, and reftoring its peace; aids which, to the ne- gligent and vicious, are wholly unknow^n. The greater experi- ence we have of the viciflitudes of human life, with more weight will that precept of the wife man always come home to our re- membrance ; Keep thy heart 'with all diligence ; for out of it are the i^Jiics of life* — Hence arifes, In the fourth and lad place, another inftruilion, that is of the utmoft importance to us all; — frequently to look up to Him who made the human heart ; and to implore his afliffance in the regu- lation and government of it. Known to him, are all the fources of bitternefs and joy by which it is afFeded, On him it depends, to let them forth, or to fliut them up; to increafe, or to dirainifh them, at his plcalure. In a ftudy fo infinitely important to happi- ncfs_, * Prov. iv. q. l6/i On the Joy, nefs, as that of the prefervation of inward peace, we cannot be too earneft in befeeching aid from the great Father of Spirits, to enable us to keep our hearts free from diflrefs and trouble. — Be- fides the affiftance which we may hope to derive from divine grace, the employments of devotion themfelves, form one of the moft powerful means of compofing, and tranquillifingthe heart. On va- rious occafions, when the fources of heart-bitternefs have been xnoft overflowi=ng, devotion has been found the only refuge of the fufferer. Devotion opens a fancluary, to which they, whofe hearts have beeVr mod deeply wounded, can always fly. Within that quiet and facred retreat, they have often found a healing balfam prepared. When grieved by men, they have derived, from the afcent of the mind towards God and ceUftial objects, much to footh them at prefent, and much to hope for in future. Let us, there- fore, negled no mean with which religion can furnifh us, for pro- moting the joys, and alTuaging thebitternefs of the heart. Amidft the frailties of our nature, the inconftancy of men, and the fre- quent changes of human life, we fliall find every afTiftance that can be procured, little enough, for enabling us to pafs our few days with tolerable comfort and peace, SER. L ^^>5 3 SERMON XLIV. On Characters of Imperfect Goodness, Mark x. 12, Then Jefits, beholding him, loved him. THE characters of men which the world prefents to us are in- finitely diverfified. In feme, either the good or the bad qualities are fo prodominant, as ftrongly to mark the character ; to difcriminate one perfon as a virtuous, another as a vicious man. In others, thefe qualities are fo mixed together, as to leave the charadler doubtful. The light and the (hade are fo much blend- ed, the colours of virtue and vice run in fuch a manner into one a- nother, that we can hardly diftinguifh where the one ends, and the other begins ; and we remain in fufpence, whether to blame or to praife. While we admire thofe who are thoroughly good, and deteft the groflly wicked, it is proper alfo to beftow attention on thofe imperfed charadlers, where there may be much to praife, and fomewhat to blame ; and where regard to the commendable part fhall not hinder us from remarking what is defedive or faulty^ Such attentions will be found the more ufeful, as chara6lers of this mixed fort are, more frequently than any other, exhibited to us in the commerce of fociety. It was one of this fort, which gave occafion to the incident recorded in the text. The incident feems to have been confider- ed as remarkable, fince it is recounted by three of the evangelical writers ; and by them all, with nearly the fame circuinftances. The perfon to whom the hiftory relates was a ruler ; one of high- er rank and ftation than thofe who ufually leforted to Jefus, He was a rich man: He vjdisayoung man. His whole behaviour was prepofTeiTing and engaging. He appears to have conceived a high opinion of our Lord, He addrelTed him with the uimoft refpe6t; and ^66 On the Characters and the queftion which he put to him was proper and important^ He kneeled to him ; andfaidy Good Majier^ what fljall 1 do that 1 may inherit eternal life F His conduct in the world had been regular and decent. He could prcteft, that he had hitherto kept himfelf free from any grofs vice ; and in his dealings with others had ob- ferved the precepts of God. Our Lord, beholding him, is faid to have loved him; whence we have reafon to conclude, that he was not hypocritical in his profefTions ; and that his countenance car- ried the exprcilion of good difpofuions, as bis fpeech, and his man- ners were altogether complacent and gentle. Yet this perfon, amiable as he was, when his virtue v^as put to the left, difappoint- ed the hopes which he had given reafon to form. Attached, in all probability, to the indulgence of eafe and pleafure, he wanted fortitude of mind to part with the advantages of the world, for the fake of religion. When our Lord required him to fulfil his good intentions, by relinquidiing his fortune, becoming one of his followers, and preparing himfelf to encounter fufferings, the facrifice appeared to him too great. Impreflions of virtue, however, flill remained on his mind. He was fenfible of v/hat he ought to have done; and regretted his want of courage to do it. He was fQrrowful: He was grieved: Yet he went away. Persons ot a charader fomewhat refemblingthis, all of us may have met with; efpecially, among the young; among thofe who have been liberally educated and polifhed by good fociety. They abhor open vice, and crimes that tlifturb the world. They have a refpeft for religion. They are willing to receive inftruclion for their condud. They are modeft and unaiTuming ; refpectful to their fuperiors in age or ftation ; gentle in their addrefs ; inoffenfive and courteous in their whole behaviour. They^re fond of oblig- ing every one; unwilling to hurt or difpleafe any. — Such perfons we cannot but love. We gladly promife well ot them : and are difpofed to forward and alfut them. Yet fuch is the weaknefs of our nature, that at the bottom of this characler there may lie, as we fee exemplified in the inftance before us, fome fecret and njaterial defects. That vigour of mind, that firmnefs of prin- ciple, may be wanting, which is rcquifite for enabling them to act with propriety, when their virtue is put to a decifive trial. The foftnefs of their nature is unfavourable to a fteady perfever- ance rf tmperfeSi Goodnefs. 26j pcrfeverance in the courfe of integrity. They poflefsthe amiable qualities; but there is ground to llifpefl, that in the eOimable ones they are deficient. While, therefore, we by no means clafs the^i among ths bad, we dare not give them the full praife of virtue. When they fet out in the world, we cannot pronounce with confidence, what confirmed features their character will af- fume ; nor how far they can be depended upon, in future life- Allow me now to point out the dangers which fuch perfons are moft likely to incur ; and to fiiow what is requifite for them far- ther to ftudy, in order to their fulfilling the part of good men and true Cbriftians. I. Persons of this defcription are not qualified for difcharging aright many duties, to which their fituation in life may call them# In certain circumftances, they behave with abundance of propri- ety. When all is calm and fmooth around them ; when notliing Occurs to agitate the mind, or to difturb the tenour of placid life^ none of their defeats come forward. They arc beloved ; and they are ufeful. They promote the comfort of human fociety 5 and, by gentlenefs and courtefy of manners, ferve to cement men together in agreeable union. But to fail on the tranquil fur- face of an unruffled lake, and to fteer a fafe courfe through a troubled and ftormy ocean, require different talents. Alas ! hu- man life oftener refembles the ftormy ocean, than the unruffled lake. We fliall not have been long embarked^ without finding the refemblance to hold too clofely. Amidst the buflle of the world, amidft the open contentions and fecret enmities, v/hich prevail in every lociety, mildnefs, and gendenels alone, are not fufficient to carry us, with honour, through the duties of our different ftations ; as heads of families, citizens, fubje£ls, magiftrates, or as engaged in the pnrfuits of our feveral callings. Difturbances and trials arife, which demand vigorous exertions of all the moral powers ; of patience, vigi- lance, and felf-denial; of conftancy and fortitude, to fupport us under danger and reproach ; of temperance, to reftrain us from be- ing carried away by pleafure ; of firm and determined principle, to make us defplfe the bribes of fin. Thefe manly difpoGtions of mind are indifpenfci-bly neceffary to prepare one for furmounting the difcouragements of virtue ; and for ftruggling honourably through the hardfiiips of life. Unlefs he be thus armed and fortified, I i whatever 268 On Characters whatever good intentions have been in hrs heart, th^y are like!/ to be fruftrated in adion. Nothing that is great, can be underta- ken. Nothing that is difficult or hazardous, can be accompliflied. Nor are we to imagine, that it is only in times of perfecution, or war, or civil commotions, that there is occafion for thofe ftrong- er efforts, thofe mafculine virtues of the foul, to be difplayed. The private, and feeniingly quiet, ftations of life, often call men forth, in the days of peace, to fevere trials of firmnefs and con- (lancy. The life of very few proceeds in fo uniform a train, as not to oblige them to difcaver, in fome fituation or other, what portion they poflefs of the eflimable qualities of man. Hence it fometirnes happens, that perfons, whofe manners were much lefs promifing and engaging than thofe of others, have, neverthelefs, when brought to adt a part in critical circumftances, performed that part with more unfullicd honour, and firmer integrity, than they. II. Persons of the charadler I have defcribed are ill fitted, not only for difcharging the higher duties of life, but alfo for re- fiftino- the common temptations to vice. With good difpofitions in their mind, with adefire, like the young ruler in the text, to know what they fhall do, to inherit eternal life ; yet, when the terms required of them interfere with any favourite enjoyment, like him, they are forrowful ; and go away. The particular trial to which he was put, may appear to be a hard one, and to ex- ceed the ordinary rate ot virtue. Our Lord, who difcerned his heart, faw it to be necelTary, in his cafe, for bringing his cha- racter to the teft. But in cafes where trials of much lels difficulty prefent themfelves, they who partake of a character fimilar to his, are often found to give way. The good qualities which they poflefs, border on certain weaknefles of the mind ; and thefe weakneflcs are apt to betray them infenfibly into vices, with which they are conne£led. Good nature, for inftance, is in danger of running into that unlimited complaifance, which afTimilates men to the loofe man- ners of thofe whom they find around them. Pliant, and yielding in their temper, they have not force to ftand by the deeifions of their own minds, with regard to right and wrong. Like the animal which is faid to afifume the colour of every object to which jt is applied, they lofe all proper charader of their own, and are formed by the characters of thofe wiik whom they chance to afTo- ciate. (f lmperfe6} Coodnefs, 2^79 ciate. — The mild are apt to fink into habits of indolence and floth. The cheerful and gay, when warmed by plcafure and mirth, lofe that fobriety and felf-denial, which is eflential to the fupport of virtue. Even modefty and fubmiffion, qualities fo valuable in themfelves, and fo highly ornamental to youth, fome- times degenerate into a vicious timidity ; a timidity which re- ftrains men from doing their duty with firmnefs ; which cannot fiand the frown of the great, the reproach of the multitude, or e- ven the ridicule and fneer of the fcorner. Nothing can be more amiable than a condant de^re topleale; and an unwiHingnefs to offend or hurt. Yet in charaders where this is a predominant feature, defeats are often found. Fond al- ways to oblige, and afraid to utter any difagreeable truth, fuch perfons are fometimes led to diflemble. Their love of truth is facrificed to their love of pleafing. Their fpeech, and their man- ners, aflume a ftudied courtefy. You connot always depend on their fmile; nor, when they promife, befure of the performance. They mean and intend well. But the good intention is temporal ry. Like wax, they yield eafiiy to every impreflion ; and the tranfient friend fliip coiitraded with one perfon, is effaced by the next. Undiftinguiflied defire to oblige, often proves, in the pre- lent ftate of human things, a dangerous habit. They who can- not, on many occafions, give a firm and fteady denial, or who cannot break off a connexion, which has been haftily and impro- perly formed, ftand on the brink of many raifchiefs. They will be fcduced by the corrupting, enfnared by the artful, betrayed by thofe in whom they had placed their truft. Unfufpicious theni- felves, they were flattered with the belief of having many friends around them. Elated with fanguine hopes, and cheerful fpirits they reckoned, that to-morrow would be as this day, and more a* bundant. Injudicious liberality and thoughtlefs profufion, are the confequence, until, in the end, the f^raits to which they are re- duced, bring them into meaner difiionourablecourfes. Through innocent but unguarded weaknefs, and from want of the feverer virtues, they are, in procefs of time, betrayed into downright crimes. Such may be the conclufion of thofe, who, like the young ruler before us, with many amiable and promifing difpo^ Utions, had begun their career in life, III, Such 2JQ On Characlers III. Such perfons are not prepared for funaining, with f5ro- priety and dignity, the diHrelTes to which our (late is hable. They were equipped for the feafon of funlhine and ferenity ; but when the flvy is overcad:, and the days of darknefs come, their feeble minds are deftitute of fijelter, and ill provided for defence. Then is the time, when more hardy qualities are required ; when courage mult face danger, conftancy fupport pain, patience polleis kfelf in the nm\\i of diicouragements, magnanimity difplay its con- tempt of threatenings. If thofe high virtues be altogether flran- rrers to the mind, the mild and geritle will certainly fink under the torrent or difafters The ruler in the text could plead, that bis behaviour to others, in the courfe of focial life, had been unex- ceptionable. So far, the refie(5lion on his ccndu6l would afford him comfort amidO: adverfity. But no man is without failings. In the <^ejeding feafon of trouble, it will occur to every one, that he has been guilty of frequent trangreiTion ; that much of what ought to have beerj done, was neglefted ; and that much of what has been done, had better have been omitted. In fuch fituations, -yvhen a thoufand apprehenfions arife to alarm confcience, nothing is able to quiet itsuneafinefs, except a well-grounded trufl- in the mercy and acceptance of Heaven. It is firm religious principles, aeling upon a manly and enlightened mind, that gives dignity to t^ie character, and compofure to the heart, under all the troubles of the world. This enables the brave and virtuous man, with fuccefs to buffet the fiorni. While he, who had once fparkled in fociety with all the charms of gay vivacity, and had been the de- light of every circle in v( hich he was engaged, remains difpiriied, overwhelmed, and annihilated, in the evil day. Such are the failings incident to perfons of mixed and imper- fed: goodnefs: fuch the defe6LS of a charadler formed merely of the amiable, without the edimable qualities of man. It appears from this, that we muft: not place too much truft in the fair appearances, whicha charadier may at firfl exhibit, Injudg. ing of others, let us always think the bed, and employ the fpirit of charity and candour. But in judging of ourfelves, we ought to be more fevere. Let us remember him whom our Lord beheld, and loved; and who yet fell fliort of the kingdom of heaven. Let us not forget, that fomething more than gentlenefs and modefty, than couiplaccncy of temper and affability of manners; is requifits to of ImperfelSi Goodnefs, lyi to form a worthy man, and a true Chriftian. To a high place in our efteem, thefe qualities are juftly entitled. They enter eflen- tially into every good man's charader. They form fome of its nioit favourable diiliactions. But they conftitute a part of it ; not the whole. Let us not, therefore, reft on them entirely, when we conceive an idea of what manner of perfons we ought to be. Let piety form the bafis of firm and eftabliflied virtue. If this be wanting, the character cannot be found and entire. Moral virtue will always be endangered, often be overthrown, when it is feparated from its fureft fupport. Confidence in God, ftrengih- ened by faith in the great Redeemer of mankind, not only, amidil the feverer trials of virtue, gives conflancy to the mind, but, by nourilhing the hopes of immortality, adds warmth and elevation to the affedlions. They whofe condud: is not animated by religious principle, are deprived of the moft powerful incentive to worthy and honourable deeds. Let fuch difcipline, next, be ftudied, as may form us to the aclive and manly virtues. To natural good affedlions, we can ne- ver entirely truft our condudi:, Thefe, as has been fhown, may fometimes be warped into what is wrong ; and often will prove, infufficient for carrying us rightly through all the duties of life. Good affed:io!is are highly valuable ; but they muft be fupported by fixed principles, cultivated in the underftanding, and rooted in the heart. Habits muft be acquired of temperance and felf-denial, that we may be able to refift pleafure, and endure pain, when ei- ther of them interfere with our duty, that we may be prepared to make a facrifice of any worldly intereft, when the voice of God and confcience demand it. Let us always remember, that with- out fortitude of mind, there is no manhood ; there can be no per- feverance in virtue. Let a facred and inviolable regard for truth reign in our whole behaviour. Let us be diftinguifned for fideli- ty to every promife we have made ; and for conftancv in every worthy friendfhip we have formed. Let no weak complaifance, no undue regard to the opinions of men, ever make us betray the rights of conlcience. What we have once, upon due confideration, adopted as rules of condudl, to thefe let us adhere unlhaken. How ever the world may change around us, let it find us the lame in profperity and adverfity ; faithful to God and virtue ; faithful to the convictions of our osvn heart. What our lot in the world may be, is 272 Oj2 CharaSiers is not ours to forefee or determine. But it is ours to refolve, that ■whatever it iliall be, it (hall find us perfevering in one line of up- rightnefs and honour. By fueh difcipline, fuch attentions as thefe, we are to guard againft thofe failings which are fometimes found to (lain the moft engaging charaflers. Joining in proper union the amiable and eftimable qualities, by the one we fhall attract the good ; and by the other, command refpedlfrom the bad. We fhall both fecure our own integrity, and (hall exhibit to others a proper view of what virtue is, in its native grace and majefty. In one part of our charaiSer, we fhall referable the flower that fmiles in fpring ; in another, the firmly-rooted tree, that braves the winter ftorm- For, remember we mufl, that there is a feafc^T of winter, as well as, of fpring and fummer, in human life; and it concerns us to be equally prepared for both. A HIGHER and more perfed example of fuch a charafler as I now recommend, cannot be found, than what is prefented to us in the life of Jefus Chrift. In him we behold all that is gentle, unit- ed with all that is refpedable. It is a remarkable exprellion, which the Apofiie Paul employs concerning him ; / befeech you by the meeknefs and gentle nefs of Chrlft.* Well might thefe qualities be iingled out, as thofe for which he was known and difiinguiflied. We fee him in his whole behaviour affable, courteous, and eafy ofaccefs. Heconverfed familiarly with all who prefented themfelves; and defpifed not the meanefl:. With all the infirmities of his difciples be calmly bore ; and his rebukes were mild, when their provoca- tions were great. He wept over the calamities of his country^ which perfecuted him ; and apologifed and prayed for them who put him to death. Yet the fame Jefus we behold, awful in the Itridnefs of his virtue; inflexible in the caufe of truth ; uncom- plying with prevailing manners, when he found them corrupt; ^gu ting his face boldly againfl the hypocritical leaders of the people; over-awed by none of their threatenings ; in the moft indignant terms, reproving their vices and ftigmatizing their characters' We behold him gentle, without being tame; firm, without being flern ; courageous, without being violent. Let this mind be in us -which was alfo in Jefus Chrijl ; and we fliall attain to honour, bc'.h with God and with man. * 2 Cqv, X, I, S E R- C 2/3 3 SERMON XLV. On the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, as a Preparation for Death. Preached at the celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, ^ ••^"$"»-^-»-^— — Matthew xxvi. 29. But I fay unto yoUy Ivaill not drink he?ice forth of this fruit of the vine ^ until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. X^ITH thefe words of our blefTed Lord, the Evangelifl: con- ' ^ eludes his account of the inftftution of the facramcnt of the Cupper. It is an inftitution which, folemn and venerable in itfelf, is rendered ftill more fo, by the circumftances which accompanied it. Our Lord had now, for about three years, continued to ap- pear in his public chara(5ler, in the land of Judea. He had, all along, been watched with a jealous eye, by his enemies ; and the time was come, when they were to prevail againft him. A few friends he had, from the beginning, feledted, who, in every viciffitude of his (bte, remained faithfully attached to him. With thefe friends he was now meeting for the laft time, on the very evening in which he was betrayed and feized. He perfedly knew all that was to befal him. He knew that this was the laft meal in which he was to join with ihofe, who had been the companions of all his labours, the confidence of all liis griefs ; among whom he had pafled all the quiet and private moments of his life. He knew, that within a few hours, he was to be torn from this loved fociety, by a band of ruffians; and by to-morrow, was to be publicly ar- raigned, as a malefactor. With a heart melting with tendernefs, he faid to the twelve Apoftles, as he fat down with them at tables Vith defire I have defred to eat this pajfover with you before IfufferA And + Luke xxii. 15, - - 2Y4 ^^ ^^^ Sacrament of the Lord^s Supper y And then, having gratified himfelf for the laft time in their focietyj and having inftituted that commemoration of his death, which was to continue in the Chriftian church until the end of ages, he took a folemn and affedionate farewel of his friends, in the words of the text, I fay unto you, that I will not drink hencejorth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it neiv with you in my father^ s kingdom. As thefe words were uttered by onr Lord, in the profpecl of his fufFerings; when preparing himfelf for death, and looking for- ward to a future meeting with his friends in heaven ; let us, under this view, confider the facrament which he then inftituted, as a preparation for all the fufferings of life, and efpecially, a prepa- ration for death. It is fit and proper, that fuch folemn profpeds ftioiild enter into the fervice which we are this day to perform. We have no reafon to imagine, that they will render it a gloomy jfervice. A good and wife man is often difpofed to look forward to the termination of life. The number of our days is determined by God ; and certainly it will not tend ro Hiorren their number, that we employ ourfeives in preparing for death. On the contrary, while bur days laft, it will tend to make us pafs them more com. fortably, and more wifely. Let us now, then, as if for the laft time we were to partake of this facrament, confider how it may ferve to prepare us for the dying hour. I. It is a high exercife'of all thofe difpofitions and nfteclions, in which a good man would wifli to die. He would furely willi to leave this world, in the fpirit of devotion towards God, and of fellowlhip and charity with all his breti^ren on earth. Now, iheie are the very fentiments, which the facrament of the Lord's Sup- per in fpires into the heart of every pious communicant. It includes the higheft ads of devotion of which human nature is capable. It imports, a lively fenfe of the infinite mercies of Heaven ; of the gratitude we owe to that God, who, by the death of his Son, hath reftored the forfeited happinefs and hopes of the human rrxe. It imports, the confecration of the foul to God ; the entire reHg- nation of ourfeives, and all our concerns, into his hands ; as to the God whom we ferve and love ; the guardian in whom we confide. To thee, Lord, do I lift up my foul. I will go to the altar of Ced, to Cod my exeeeding joy^ J will come into thy houfe in the multitude of thy AS a Preparation for Death, 7y§ thy mercy ; and in thy fear, I will worjhip towards thy holy temple ^"^ These devout alfeclions towards God are, on this occafion, necefTariiy acconipanied with benevolent difpofitions towards men. Our communion is not only with God, but with one another. In this Iblemn fervice, the diftindion of ranks is aholifhed. We afTemble in common before our great Lord, profeiTing ourfelves to be all members of his family, and children of the fame Father. No feud, nor ftrife, nor enmity, is permitted to approach the fa- cred table. All within that hallowed fpace, breathes peace, and concord, and love. // thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberefi that thy brother hath ovght again ft thee ; leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way ; firf} be reconciled to thy bro. ther ; and then come and offer thy gift, f What can be more becoming men and Chriitians, than fuch fentiments of piety to the great Father of the univerfe; gratitude to the merciful Redeemer of mankind J and charity and forgivenefs towards all our brethren? Is not this the temper in which a good man would wifli to live ? more efpeciaily, is not this the frame of mind which will give both dignity and peace to his laft moments? How difcompofed and embittered will thcfe important moments prove, if, with a mind Toured by the remembrance of unforgiven injuries, with 2. brcafl: rankled by enmity, with a heart alienated from God^ and inlenfible to devotion, one be forced away from life ? Contemplate the manner in which our blefled Lord died; which the fervice of this day brings particularly into your view. You behold him, amidft the extremity of pain, calm and colic^- ed within himfelf^ pofTeffing hisfpirit with all the ferenity which fublime devotion, and exalted benevolence infpirc. You hear him, firft, lamenting the fate of his unhappy country ; next, v^hen he was faftened to the crofs, addrefliDg words of confolation 10 his affli(rted parent ; and laftly, fending up prayers, mixed with compaflionate apologies, for thofe who were (bedding his blood. After all thofe exercifes of charity, you behold him in an ^<\ of devout adoration and iruft, refigning his breath ; Father, into thy hands I commend my fplrit . Can any death be pronounced un- h..ppy, how diftrefsful foever its circumdances may be, which is thus fupported, and dignified? What could v. e v^ii'h for more in our laft moments, than with this peaceful frame of mind, this K k calm * Pfalm xliii. 4. v> ;> t lyJ^tthe-u) v. 7^, 2^, "X-]^ On the Sacrament of the Lord^s Supper, ca\jn of all the affedions, this exsltation of heart towards God, thrs difFufion of benevolence towards men, to bid adieu to the world ? If, in fuch a fpirit as this, we wonld all wifh to die, let iis think, that now is the time to prepare fo^* it, by feafonably culti- vating this fpirit while we live ; by imbibing, in particular, from the holy facrament, thofe difpofitions and affecftions which we would \vi(h to pofTcfs at our lateft period. It is ahogether vain to imagine, that when the hour of death approaches, we tliall be able to form ourfelves into the frame of mind which is then moft pYoper and decent. Amidft the ftruggles of nature, and under the load of ficknefs or pain, it is not time for unaccuflomed exer- tions to be made, or for new reformations to be begun. Suffd- entj and more than fufHcient, for that day is the evil thereof. It will be too late to affume then the hero, or the faint, if we have been totally unacquainted with the character before. The fenti- ments we would difplay, and the language we would utter, will be alien and Grange to us. They will be forced, and foreign to the heart. It is only in confequence of habits acquired in former and belter days, that a temper of piety and charity can grow up into fuch flrengih, as to confer peace and magnanimity on the concluding hours of life. Peculiarly favourable to the acqufition cf fuch a temper, are the devotions of this day. In this view, let us perform them ; and ftudy to be at the table cf the Lord, vhat we would wiOi to be when thefummons of death fhall corae. II. This facram.ent becomes a preparation for death, by lay- ing a foundation for peace with God. What is important at the clofe of life, is not only the temper in which we leave the world, but the fuuation in which we ftand with refpet^l to that great Judge, before whom we are about to appear. This view of our fuuation is apt to efcape us, during the ordinary courfe of life. Occupied with the affairs and concerns of this world; flattered by thofe illufive colours of innocence and virtue, in w hich i'elf- love drefies up our charafter, apprehenfions ot guilt create little uneafmefs to the multitude ot men. But, on the approach of death, their ideas change. As the inquiiiiion of the Supreme Judge daws nigh, remembered tranfgrelfions crowd upon the mind ; Guik becomes itrongly reaiifed to the in)agination; and alarms, before unknov^n, begin to arife. Hence that anxiety, intheprc- ipefl of a future invifible world, which is fo often feen to attend • , the _-' as a Preparation for Death, 177 the bed of deathi Hence thofe various methods which fuperfti- tion has devifed for quieting this anxiety ; the trembling mind eagerly grafping every feeble plank on which it can lay hold ; and flying for protection to the moll unavailing aid. The Uouteil fpi- rits have been then known to bend ; the proudeft hearts, to be humbled. They. who are now moft thoughtlefs about their fpi- ritual concerns, may, perhaps, be in this itate before they die. The difpenfation of grace, difcovered in the gofpel, affords the only remedy againft ihofe terrors, by the promife of pardon, extended to the penitent, through the merits of our Lord Jefus Chrid. It is the very elTence of this facrament, to exhibit this promifed grace to mankind ; " My body which was broken for ** you^ my blood flied for many, for the renuiFioD of fms.'^ Here, fliines from above, the ray of hope. Divine juftice, we are afllired, is not inexorable. Divine mercy is acceflible, to all n'ho believe and repent. The participation of this facrament, therefore, naturally imparts comfort to the worthy communicant; as it luppofes, on his part, a cordial compliance withthofe terms, on which pardon is offered by the gofpel to mankind. I MEAN not to fay, that the participation of this facrament, how pious and proper foever our difpofitions at the time may be, is, of itfelf, fuHicient to infure us of comfort at death. It were unwarrantable to flatter Chriftians, with hopes to this extent. No fmgle a6l of the moft fervent devotion can afford affured hopes of peace with Heaven, until thefe hopes be confirmed by the fuc- ceeding tenor of a good life. But what may fafely be afferted is, that communicating in a proper manner, makes way for fuch hopes. It is an introdu6lion to that ftate of reconciliation with God, which will give you peace in death. It is the beginning of a good courfe, which, if duly purfued, will make your latter end bleiTed. It is the entrance of the path of the juji- -^ the morn- ing of that light luhich Jhineth more and more unto the per feci day* For this holy facrament is a profeffed renunciation of the vices and corruptions of the world. It is a profeffed dirfflidion cf former evil habits; a folenm return, on our part, to God and virtue, under the firm truil, that God will, through Jefus Chrift, fhow mercy to the frailties of the penitent^ If you continue to lupport the charafter x<1iich you tfiis day affume, the invifible world will no longer prcfcnt to you a fcene of terrors, You will be com- forted nyt On the Sacrament of ihe LordU Spppfr, forted with the view of goodnefs and compafilon, as predominant in the adminiftration of the univerfe. After havino; finiflied a virtuous courfe, you will be able to look up to that God whom you have woi ihipp/<;d, and to fay, 1 know In whom 1 havs trujhd^ Though I -walk through ihe vaiky of ihe /Jjadow of death ^ I will fear no evil; fir thou art with me. Thy rod and thy Jlaff floall comfort mc. III. This facramenr prepares us for a happy death, by ftrength- eriinvr the conueclion between Chriftians, and Chrift their Saviour. This is a connection which, in various ways, redounds to their benefit j and will be found particularly confolatory at the hour of death. The awful Majefty of Heaven is in danger of overwhelm- ing; the niiad in the feeble moments of departing life. The re- verence it infpires is mingled with fenfations of dread, which might be too ftrong for us then to bear. When we look up to it, through a Mediator and Intercefror,that Majefty alfumes a milder al^Dcd, and appears to invite our approach. Whatever, there- fore, forms a coune^lion with this great Mediator, this powerful friend and patron of the human race, muft be moft defjrable to every one, efpecially to the dying man. Now, this facrament unites us clofely with him. It is the oath of our allegiance. It is the ad of inlifting ourfelves under the banner of this divine Leader. Of courfe, it ftrengthens our faith in him, as our guide through life, and our guardian and protector in death. It gives us a title to look up to him, under the confidence of that recipro- cal ergagement, which fidelity on the one hand is always un» derilood to imply, of proteSion on the other. His participation of our nature conveys a degree of encc^irage- ment, which we could derive from no being altogether celeRial, how gracious or benign foever. In our utmoft extremity, we can have rccourfe to his fympathizing aid, who had expCx-ierce both of the diftrcfles of life, and of the terrors of death. V/e be- hold, in tlic text, with what tirm tranquillity he looked forward to his approaching fufFerings. Sincere attachment to our great Mafier, miiy be cxpe<^cd to infufc into us fome degree of the fame happy compofuve of mind. It is owing to our lofmg out of view this pcrfeft n)odcl ; to our following the crowd, and adopting the common fpirit of the world, that we become niean-fpirited and bafe % fervilely at- tached to life, and afraid to die. Did we, according to our engage, ments at the Lord's tabic, keep our eye fixed on our divine Lead- er, as a Preparatmn for Dettth. 279 »r, and attempt to follow his fteps, a portion of his fplrlt would defcend upon us at the hour of death. It would be as the man- tle of Elijah, falling on a chofen difciplc; and would enable us, as it did Elijah of old, to fmiie, and divide the waters. — We believe our Saviour now to rule in the world of fpirits. The grave, therefore, bars not his followers from accefs to hioi. In the grave, for our fake, he once lay down, that he might difpel the gloom which appears to us to cover that formidable manfion. In a Ihort time he arofe from it, in order to alTure us, that the dark and narrow houfe was not to confine his followers for ever. Bf his death, he conquered death ; and him that had the power of it j and his voice to us is, Bccaufi I live, ye /hall live alfo. Hence, as long as we prcferve that attachment to him which we this day pro- fefs, we are furniflied with a variety of confidcrations proper, for fupporting us in the profpetS of our dilTolution. — This leads me to obferve, IV. That the facrament of which we are to partake, prepares us for death, by confirming and enlivening our hope of immor- tality. In this facrament, my friends, you a6t for both worlds. As inhabitants of the earth, you are on this day to look forward, with care, to your future behaviour in it. For you arc not, by any means, difcngaging yourfelvcs totally fram this life, and its concerus. On the contrary, you are forming, and even ftrength- fining, thofe connexions which virtue requires you to maintain with your friends, and tellow-crcatures around you» At the fame time, you are not to confider yourfelvcs as citizens of this earth only ; but alfo as cTTizens of heaven. You are to recognife, on this occafion, your relation to a higher and better country, with which you are connedlcd by the molt facred ties ; and from which you derive thofe coniforts and hopes, that will both purify your life, and render your death happy. The facrament of the fupper is, in tl^s view, an afcent of the mind above terreftrial things. At the Lord's table, we aflTociate ourfelves, in fome degree, with fpirits of a more exalted order. Wc declare, that we are tend- ing towards their focieiy; and have 6Kcd our final reft within the veil. This view of the iaftitucion, fb comfoi'^table to thefaft pe- riod of lite, is plainly given us in the words of the text. For it is worthy of particular obfervation, that, as foon as our Lord had inftitufed this facrament, he ftraightway leads the thoughts of his diftiple;- to a (Lite of fuiuff* exigence. Employing that metapho- rical tiHo On the Sacrament of the Lor^s Supper, rical flyl-s, which the occafion naturally fuggefted, he telfs them, that though he was not henceforth to drink of ihe fruit of the vine on earth, yet a day was coming, when hecu'as again to drink 5l -with them ; to drink it, in bis Facker^s kingdom. Two diftipct ideas are, in thefe vvords, prefented to us. One is, the abode into which ©ur Saviour was to remove; his Father^ s kingdom. Theo- ther, the fociety which he was there to enjoy ; 'jjith you, in my Fa- therms kingdom. Thefe corrcfpond to the two views, under which death is moft formidable to men ; both of which he intended to banifli, by the inftitution of this facramcnt : firll, that death is a tranvition to a new and unknown world ; and next, that it is a final ^ieparation from all the friends whom we have loved on earth. First; if death terminates our exigence here, the abode to which it tranflates the faithful followers of Chrift, is the kingdom of his Father. The inftitution of this facrament, difpels all the gloomy ideas of annihilation, of non-exiftence, of total darknefs, •which our imagination is ready to alTociate with the grave. We are here alTured, that, to good men, death is not the clofe of being, but a change of llate; a removal from a diftant and obfcure province of the univerfe, into the city of God, the chief feat of their Father's kiugdom. They have every reafon to believe, thac the objeds which are to meet them there, how new and unknown foever, Ihall all be propitious and friendly. For into the kingdom of his Father, their Lord has declared, that he is entered as their Jorerunner. 1 go to my Father, and your Father s to my Cody and your Cod. In my Father* s houfe are many man/tons, I go to prepare a place for you. I will come again, and receive you to myfelf thai ivhere I am, tijere you may be alfi. What reafonings, what fpe- culations, can have pover to impart {o much peace to the dying man, as a promife fo direct and explicit, coming from 'him who is truth itfelf, and cannot lie ? Ij it were notfo, I would have told you. * The profpcd becomes Oiil more chearing and relieving, when we include, Tkh: other circumllance mentioned in the text ; the fociety to be enjuDyed in that future ftate of being. With you, J Jhall drink of the fruit of the vine in my Father^ s kingdom. In how amiable a light does onr Saviour here appear, looking forward to a future reunion with thofe beloved friends^ whcm he was now leaving. as * Job xiv, 2. as a Vreparai'im for Death. 28; as to a circumftance which fhould increase both his own Felicity and theirs, when they met again in a happier world ! I'hus, in the mod affeclionate manner, cheering their drooping and dejedled fpirits ; and, by a fimilar profpecft, providing tor the comfort of his followers in future generations, when they Ihould he about to leave the world. The exprelTions in the text plainly fuggeft a joyful intercourfe among friends, who had been feparated by death : and therefore feem to give much confirmation, to what has always been a favo- rite h(5pe of good men ; that friends Ihali know and recognife each other, and renew their former counedions, in a future fbteof exif^ tence. How many pleaiing profpects does fuch an intimation open to the mind ! How much does it tend to compenfate the vanity of life, and to mitigate the forrows of death I For it is not to be de- nied, that one of the moft bitter circumftances attending death, is the final feparation from beloved friends. This is apt equaliy to wring the hearts of the dying, and thefurviving ; and it is an an- guiOi of that fort, which defcends moft deeply into the virtuous and worthy bread. When, furrounded with an alfedionate family, and weeping friends, a good man is taking his lad adieu of ail whom he held moft*dtE'ar on earth ; when, with a feeble voice, he is giving them his bluffing before he leaves them for ever; when, for the laft time, he beholds the countenance, he touches the hand, he hears the voice, of the perfon neareft his heart ; who could bear this bitternefs of grief, if no fupport were to be mini- dered by religious hope I If there v/ere no voice to whifper to our fpiriis that, hereafter we, and ihofe whom we love, ihall meet again in a more blifsful land ? -What higher viev/ can poffibly be given, of the benefit redounding from this divine inditution, than its affording us confolation in fuch (ituations of extreme dif- trefs) by realizing to our fouls the belief of an immortal date, in vi'hich all the virtuous and worthy (hall be re-united in the prefence of their common Lord > Thus I have fet before you many confideritions, arifing from the facrament of our Lord's fupper, which render it a proper pre- paration, not only for a good life, but for a comfortable and hap- py death. The great improvement to be made of the fubje*5l is, to bring to the altar of God fuch difpofitions of hearr, as may give us ground to hope fur this bleiTed effed:. Let us approach to the facrament 5 §2 On ihe Sacrament of the LoraU Supper , facrament with the fame ferkmfnefs of frame, as if it were the laft time we were ever to partake of it ; as if we were now mak- ing provifion for a journey to that land whence none return ; as if we were never to drink, in this manner, ** of the fruit of the *' vine, until that dajr when we drink it,'' with thofe whom we have loved, " in our Father's kingdom.'^ — God only knows lo whom this may be truly fpoken ! God knows who, of this alTenibly, fliall never have opportunity to approach again to the facred table, and to meet with their brethren on fuch an occafion, in the courts of the Lord's houfe! — Whatever our doom is to be, whe. iher we are appointed for life or for death, fuch is the frame of mind which now bcft becomes, and will moft improve us, in par- taking of the holy facrament. Let me caution you, before I conclude, againft judging of the propriety of your difpofiiion in this folemn ad of worfhip, folely by the warmth of your affeclions, and the fervour of your devo- tion. This ftate of heart, how defirable foever it may be, can- not be at all times poflelTed, It depends, in fome meafure, on natural fenfibility. All are not equally enctovved wiih warm and tender feelings. Even they who are fufccptible of the higheft de- grees of pious and virtuous fenfibility, cannot, on every occafion, command that happy temperature of mind. We are not, therefore, to judge unfavourably of ourfelves, if this be not always the pri- vilege of our devotions. It ischiefiy a fedate and compofcd frame of fpirit, that we muft ftudy to cultivatn ; arifing from grave and fober thoughts; from ferious and penitent recollection of pafl er- rors ; from good purpofes for the future ; and a deep fenfe of the approaching events of death and im.mortaiity. Penetrated with fuch difpofitions, you have ground to come to the altar of God with humble truft and joy ; under the belief that you Pre approach- ing, through the great Redeemer, to that merciful Creator to whom, In ihe high and holy place of eternity , the devout afpirations of bis lervants on earthy are ever acceptable and pleafing. S E R- C 283 ] SERMON XLVI. On the Use and Abuse of the World. ^-"^-.^s-n- •»"•»•■■«•. I Corinthians vH. 31. They that ufe this world, as not abitjing It. . THE world is always reprefentecf in Scripture as the great fcene of trial to a Chriftian. It fets before him a variety of du- ties, which are incumbent on him to perform ; and, at the lame time, furrounds him with many dangers, againft which he has to guard. The part which is proper for him to adt, may be com- priied in thefe two expreinve words of the text; njing the wo?'/d, and not abujing it ; the fignificancy and extent of which, I purpofe now to explain. The fubjed is of the higher importance, as in the world Vv?e muft live ; and according as we ufe, or abufe it, it will prove either our friend, or our greateft foe. It is natural to begin with obferving, that theCbriftian is here fuppofed to ufe the world; by which we mud certainly underftand the Apoftle to mean, maintaining intercourfe and connection with the world ; living in it, as one of the members of human fociety; alluming that rank which belongs to his ftaiion. No one can be fiiid to ufe the world who lives not thus. Hence it follows, that fequeilration from the world is no part of Chriifian duty ; and it appears ftrange, that even among thofe vw'ho approve not of mo- rjailic confinement, feclufion from the plealures of fociety fiiould have been fometimes confidered, as belonging to the charadei of 2 reiigious man. They have been fuppoled to be the beft ier- vants of God, who, conlecrating their time to the exercifes of de- votion, mingle leaft in the ordinary comsnerce of the world ; and efpecially, who abftain moft rigidly from all that has the appear- ance of amufenient. But how pious and fnicere foever the inten- tio^ns of fuch perfons may be^ they certainly take not the proper- ly 1 elt 284 ^« the Ufe cfl: method, either for improving thcmfelves, or for advancing religion among others. For this is not ufing the world, but re- jinquifhing it. Inftead of making the light of a good example iliine v;ith ufeful Iplendor throughout the circle of fociety, they confine it within a narrow con^pafs. According to the meta- phor employed by our Saviour, after the candle is lighted, they put it under a hufi^el, Inftead of recommending religion to the world, they exhibit it under the forbidding afpecl of unnetelTary aufterity. Inftead of employing their influence, to regulate and temper the pleafures of the world, by a moderate participation of thofe that are innocent, they deliver up all the entertainments of fociety, into the hands of the loofe and giddy. The various dangers which the world prefents to one who is defirpus of maintaining his piety and integrity, have given rife to this fcrupulous caution concerning the ufe of the world ; and lb far, the principle is commendable. But we muft remember, that the virtue of a Chriftian is tobelhown, in furmounting dan- gers which he is called to encounter. Into the poft of danger we were ordered by Providence, when we were brought into this -world. We were placed as foldiers, on the field of battle. It is there, that our fidelity to our great Commander mufl appear. The mofllignal virtues which adorn and improve the human cha- radler, are difplayed in adive life. There, the ftrength of the mind is brought forth, and put to the teft. There, all the amia- ble difpofitions of the heart find their proper exercife : humani- ty is cultivated ; patience, fortitude, and felf-denial, come for- ward in all their fornis ; and the light of good men's works fo iliine before others, as to lead them to " glorify their Father *' which is in heaven/' IT may be afTuFned, therefore, as a princple juftified by the text, and by the whole ftrain of Scripture, that to vfe, and in a certain degree to enjoy, the vjorld, is altogether confiftent with religion. According to the rank which men poflefs in fociety, according to their age, their employment and connections, their interconrfc with the world will be more or lefs extended. In private life, they ufe the world with propriety, who are active and induftrious in their callings ; juft and upright in their deal- ings ; fober, contented, and cheerfu' in their flation. When the circumftances of men allow them a N\ider command of the enjoy- me ins and Ahufe of the World. 285 ments of the world, of thofe enjoyments they raay freely par- take, within the bounds of temperance, moderation, and decen- cy. The higheft fituations of rank and opulence, ought to be diftingniflied by dignity of charafter; by cxtenfive beneficence, ufefiilnefs, and public fpirit; by magnificence without oftenta- tion ; and generous holpitality, without profufion. We fliall have a clearer view of the proper ufe of the world, when we contraft it with that abule of the world, which we too often obferve. Thofe abufes manifeft themfelves in various forms; but in general may be clafled under three great heads. I. They are abufers of the world, who intemperately give themfelves up to its pleafures, and lead a life of licentioufnefs, riot, and diffipation. Amidft the wealth and luxury of the pre- fent age, it will be admitted, rhat perfons of this defcription are not unfrequent, who, being opulent in fortune, and perhaps high in rank, think themfelves intitled to pafs their days in a carelefs manner, without any other object in view, than the gra- tification of their fenfes and paflions. It (hall be granted, that they are not obliged to that exadt oeconomy and attention in their manner of living, which the ftate of fortune may require ot others. Gaiety Ihall be permitted to them ; change of fcene, and variety of amufements. But let them not forget, that as men and members of fociety, not to fay profeflbrs of the Chrifti- an faith, they are bound to ftop Ihort in their career of pleafure, as foon as it becomes difgraceful to themfelves, and hunful to the world. By the train of life which they lead, they defeat every parpofe for which Providence beffowed on them the blefC- ings of prolperity. They fink every talent which they poflefs, into ufelefs infignificancy. They corrupt the public manners by their example ; and difFufe among others the fpirit of extrava- gance and folly. They behave in a manner altogether unfuitable to the condition of the v/orld in which we live ; where we are expofed to fo much change, furrounded v/ith fo much diftrefs^ and daily behold fo many affeding fcenes, as ought to awaken ferious reflection, and chaften difiblute mirths With indignant eyes, the fober and thinking part of man- kind, view the luxury and riot of thofe abufers of the world. To them are owing the difcontents of the poor, their difaffedion to their luperiors, their pronenefs to difturb the peace of the world. When 286 On the Ufe When the poor behold v/ealth proper!}' iifcd, they look up with refpect to them who poiTefs it. They reft contented in their fta- £ion ; and blefs the juft and the generous, from whole munifi- cence they receive employment and reward. But when they be- hold thofe men of pleafure, diflipating, in vice and folly, the fortune which their forefathers had honorably earned ; when they behold them opprefling all their dependents, merely that they may revel in luxurious extravagance, then their hearts fweil within them ; with murmurs of fuHen grief, they eye their own mean habitation, and needy family ; and become prepared for robbery, tumult, fedition and every evil work. The conduct of fuch abufers of the world, is not only perni- cious to the welfare of fcciety, and to the interefts of virtue; it is equally ruinous to tbemfelves. I fliall not infiit on the lofs of reputation, the wafte of fortune; the broken health, and debili- tated frame, which are the well-known confequences of a life of iniempcrate pleafure. I fliall not recount all the better and more fub{l:;ntial er-joyments which they forfeit. Amidft the tur- bulence of riot, and the fumes of intoxication, unknown to them are the rational entertainments of regular life; the enjoyment of the face of nature ; the pleafures of knowledge, and an im- proved mind ; the pleafures of private friendfnip, and domeftic Ibciety ; the confcious fa/isfadion which accompanies honourable labours, and the juRly acquired efteem of ihofe who furround them. All thefe they have thrown away ; and in their room have fubftituted, what they think ujore high and vivid pleafures. But of what nature are thofe pleafures ? Even in laughter the heart is Jorrowjul; and the end of that mirth is heavine/r* At the bottom of the hearts of all men, there lies a fecret fenfe of propriety, virtue, and honour. This ieni't niay be fo far blunted, as to loofe its influence in guiding men to what is right, while yet it retains its power of making them feel that tliey are ading wrong. Hence remorfe often knaws the heart, which afR-c^s to appear light and gay before the world. Among the croud of amufements, the voluptuary may endeavour to ftifle his uneafiiiefs; but through all his defences it will penetrate. A confeious fenie of his own infignificance, when he lees others di!- tinguifhed for acting a manly and worthy part ; refieflion on the time * proverbs xiv. 12. and Jbufe of ike World, 2S7 time he has waifted, and the contempt he has incurred; tlie gall- ing remembrance of his earlier and better days, when he gave the fair promife of accomplifhments, which now are blalled, have frequently been found to fadden the feilive hour. The noife of merriment n)ay be heard ; but heavinefs lies at the heart. While the t ibret and the viol play, a melancholy voice founds in his ears. The wafted eftae, the negle^ied halls, and ruined manfion of his fathers, rife to view. I'he angry countenances of his friends, feem to ilare him in the face. A hand appears to come forth on the wall, and to write his doom. Kktrf;at, the 1, from your difhonourable courfes, ye who by licentiouinefs, extravagance, and vice, are abufers of the v^orld! You are degraduig, you are ruining yourfelves. You are groiily mifemploying the gifts of God ; and the Giver will not fail to pu- nilh. A wake to the purfuits of men of virtue, and honour. Break loofe from that magi;^ circle, within which you are at prefent held. Rejed the poifoned cup which the enchantrefs Pleafure holds up to your lips. Draw afide the veil which llie throws over your eyes. You will then fee other objects than you now behold. You will fee a dark abyfs opening below your feet. You will fee virtue and teaiperance marking out the road, v/hich conducts to true felicity. You will be enabled to difcern, that the world is enjoyed to advantage by none but fuch as follow thofe divine guides ; and who confider pleaiure as the feafoning, but not as the bufinefs, of life. II. The world is abufed, not only by an intemperate pur- fuit of its pleafures, but by a fordid attachment to its gains. This refpects a fet of men of very different defcription from the former ; more decent in their carriage, and lels flagrant in their vices ; but corrupted by the v/orld in no lefs a degree. For the world is oft- en abufed by the men of bulinefs, as much as by the men of plea- fure. When worldly fuccefs becomes the fole object of their life ; when the accumulation of fortune fo engrofTes them, as to harden their heart againffc every feeling of moral obligation; when it renders them infenfible to the calls of affection, and to the impreiTions of piety and religion ; they then come under the clafs of the covetous, whom, it is faid, the Lord abhor ret h.-\ The world, with its advantages^ is a lawful objecf of purfuit to t Pjalm X. 3, 288 CnikeUfe to a Chridian. He may feek, by fair indullry, to render his cir- cumfhnces affluent. Without reproof, he may aim at dirdndion and confideration in the world. He may beftow a confiderablo portion of his time and attention, on the fuccefsful management of his worldly interefts. All this is within the limits of that al- lowable ufe of the world, to which religion gives its fandtion. But to a wife and good man, the vvorld is only a fecondary ob- jecl. He remembers there is an eternity beyond it. His care is, not merely to amafs and pofl'e fs, but to ufe his pofFeflions well, as one who is accountable to God, He is not a (lave, either to the hopes, or the fears of the world. He would rather forfeit any prefent advantage, than obtain it at the expenie of violating the divine law, or negledling his duty. This is ufing the world like a good man. This is living in it, as a fubjed of God, and a member of the great community of mankind. 'J o fuch a man, riches are a bleffing. He may enjoy them with magnificence ; but he will ufe them with liberality. They open a wide field to the exercife of his virtue, and allow it to fiiine with difFufiive iuHre. Very oppofite to this, is the charader of the worldly-minded. To them, the mere attainment of earthly pofleffions, is an ulti- mate aim. They cannot be faid to ufe the world; for to poflefs, not to ufe or enjoy, is their object. They are emphatically faid in Scripture, to had themfelves luith thick clay.X Some fort of a- pology may be framed for them who feek to extract from the vvorld, pleafure of one kind or other. But for thofe who know no pleafure, farther than add'wg houfs to houje, and field to field, and. calling them their own, it is hardly poflible to frame any apology. Such perfons are idolaters of the worft kind ; for they have made the world their God. They daily worflfip and bow down be- fore it; and hold nothing to be mean or bafe, which can pro- mote the enhiriienient of their fortune. — He is an abufer of the world, let \\\s poffellion of it be ever fo ample, who knows nothing higher tlinn the gains of the world. He is an abufer of the world, who fatrifices probity, virtue, or humanity, to its interefts. He is an abufer ot tiie v,-orld, who cannot occafionally retreat from, it, to coiifider what charader he bears in the fight of God ; and to wliar idue his co. duel will bring him at laft. In a word, the world is then properly ufcd, when it is genercufly and beuGficent- ly enjoyed; neither hoarded up by avarice, nor fquandered by odentation, HI. X Hahakuk ii, 6. and Ahujc o/" the World, 289 III. The world is abufed, by thofe who employ its advantages to the injury or opprellion of tiieir bretliren. Under this clafs are included, the worft and mol'l criminal abuiVrs of the world j who turn againft their fellow-creatures, thole advantages with which it has pleafed Heaven to diliinguifli them. It is a clafs which comprehends, the fovcreign who tyrannifes over his people ; the great man who opprefTes his dependents ; the mafter who is cruel to his fervants; every one, in fine, who renders his fuperiority of any kind, whether of wealth or power, unnecelTarily grievous to thofe who are his inferiors : Whofe fupercilioufncfs dejects the modeft; whofe infolence tramples on the poor ; whofe rigour makes the widow and the orphan weep. Pcrfons of this charac- ter, while thus abufmg the advantages oF the world, may, for a while, enjoy their triumph. But let them not think their tri- umph is always to laft. Their turn fhall come to be humbled as low as thofe whom they now opprefs. For there is a vigilant eye in the heavens, attentive to obferve their procedure. There is an impartial ear, which liftens to every juff complaint prefer- red againd them. There is an irrefidible arm itretched over their heads, whofe weight they fhall one day feel. The Sovereign of the univerfe charaderifes himfelf in thefacred writings, as peculi- arly an adverlary to the infolent and haughty. " For the op- *' preflion of the poor, for the fighing of the needy, now will I <^ arife, faith the Lord ; I will fet him in fafery from him that ^' pufFeth at him.f I will come near to you in judgment; and *^ 1 will be a fwift witnefs againft thofe who opprefs the hireling '^ in his wages, the widow, and the fatherlefs, and that turn afide '* the ftranger from his right.:}: He that opprelTeth the poor, re- " proacheth his Maker § The Lord will plead their caufe; and " fpoil the foul of thofe that fpoiled them,"|| After hearing thefe awful words, is it not ftrange, O men, at onee infatuated and cruel! that you cannot ufe the world without abufmg it, to the diftrefs af your brethren I Even fup- pofmg no punifhment to be threatened, no arm to be lifted up a- gainft you, is there nothing within you, that relents at the cir- cumftances of thofe below you in the world ? Is it not enough, that they fufFer their own hard fate, without its being aggravat- ed by your feverity and oppreflion? Why muft the aged, the poor, t T^fdm xii. 5. :f MaU iii, 5. J FrQv^ xiv. 31. U Prov? x:gi, 23. ^go On the Ufe poor, and the friendlefs, tremble at your greatnefs? Cannot yon be happy, unlefs you make them eat their fcanty morfel in bitter- nels of heart ? You happy ! profane not the word — what is fuch happinefs as yours, compared with that of him who could fay, '^ when the ear heard me, then it blefled me ; and when the eye '^ faw me, it gave witnefs ro me; becaufe i delivered the poor ^^ that cried, and the fatherlefs, and him that had none to help *' him. I was a father to the poor. The blelilng of him that ^' was ready to periiii, came upon me ; and I caufed ihe widow's '* heart to fing for joy,''* How properly did fuch -i man u/e the world, and with what juft honour did he flourifli in it ! '* Unto me *' men gave ear; they kept filence, and waited for my cnunfei. " The princes refrained talking. The aged aroie, and itood up, «^ Pvly root wasfpread out by the v/aters ; and the dew lay upon '^ my branch." Not only unknown to you are fuch pleafures of vtrtuous profperity ; but, even previous to prepared puniih- ment, be alFured, that remorfe is approaching to wring your hearts. Of the world, which you now abule, in a flicrt time nothing fhall remain but the horror arifmg from remembered crimes. The wages you have detained, the wealth you have fqueezed from the needy, fliall lie heavy on your fouls. The ftately buildings which your pride has erected, by means of vio- lence and oppreiT.on, ihali feem haunted by injured gholls. ^' The Itone ihall cry cut of the wall ; and the beam out of the <* timber fhall anfwer it.''"f When you lie on the bed of death, the poor, whom you have oppreffed, imW appear to you, as ga- thered together ; iilretching forth their hands, and lifting up their voices againft you, at the tribunal of Keaven. *' 1 have ken <* the wicked great in power, and fpreading iiimfelf like a green « bay. tree. But he paffed away, and was not. I fought Inm, <' but he could not be found. They are brought down to defola- ** tion in a moment, and utier'y confumed with terrors. As a dream ** when one awaketh, ^o, O Lord, when thou awakelt, ihou <* fhalt defpife their im.age.''.t Thus I have fliown what it is to iif:^ and what to ahuje the world. When according to our different ftations, we enjoy the advantag- es of the world with propriety and decency ; temperate in our pleafures 5 * Jo/; xxix. II. — 1 6. I HahaL ii. II, % Pfalm Ixxvii, 35, Ixxiii. 19. and Ahufe of the JVorld, 291 pleafures ; moderate in our puriuits of intereft ; mindful of our duty to God, and, at the fame time, juft, humane, and generous to our brethren ; then, and then only, we ufe the world, as be- come men, and Chriftians, Within thefe limits, we may fafc- ly enjoy all the comforts which the world affords, and our ftation cllows. But if we pafs beyond thefe boundaries, into the regions of diforderly and vicious pleafure, of debafing covetoufnefs, or of oppreflTive infolence, the world will then ferve only to cor- rupt our minds, and to accelerate our ruin. The licentious, the avaricious, and the infolent, form the three great clafles of abufers of the world. Lf,t not thofe who are in wealthy and flourifliing circumftanc- es, complain of the reftraints which religious dodrines attempt to iajpofe on their enjoyments. For, to what do thefe redraints amount ? To no more than this, that,, by their pleafures, they would neither injure themf?lves, nor injure others. We call not on ihe young, to relinqui/h their gaiety ; nor on the rich, to fore- go their opulence; nor on the great, to lay afide their ftate. We only cali on them, not to convert gaiety into licentioufneis ; not to employ opulence in mere extravagance ; nor to abnfe greatnefs for the opprefTion of their inferiors: While they enjoy the world, not to forget that they are the fuhjec^s of God, and are foon to pafs into another ftate. Let the motive by which the Apoftie en- forces the exhortation in the text, prefent itfelf to their thought; Ufe this world as mt ahufmg it; for the jafnon of the world paffeth away. Its pomp and its pleafures, its riches, magnificence, and glory, are no more than a tranfient fhow. Every thing that we here enjoy, changes, decays, and comes to an end* All floats on the furface cf a river, which, Vv'ith fwift current, is running towards a boundlefs ocean. Beyond this prefent fcene of things, above thefe fublunary regions, we are to look for what is perma- nent and ftable. The world paiTes away ; but God, and heaven, atid virtue, continue unchangeably the fame. We are foon to enter into eternal habitations : and into thefe, cur works fhall follow us. The confequecces (IrAl forever remain of the part which we have acled as good, or bad men ; as faithful iubjedls of God, or as fervants cf a vain world. M in S E R. SERMON XLVII. On Extremes in Religious and Moral Con- duct. Proverbs iv. 17, Turn not U the right hand, nor to the left, — — I WILL hehtrue myfeJfvjifely, faid the Pfalmift David, k a per* fe^ way.* Wifdoni is no lefs neccflary in religious and moral, than in civil condud. Unlefs there be a proper degree of light in the underftanding, it will not be enough, that there are good difpofitions in the heart. Without regular guidance, they will often err from the right fcope. They will be always wavering and unfteady ; nay, on fome occafions, they may betray us into evil. This is too much verified by that propenfity to run into ex- tremes, which fo often appears in the behaviour of men. How many have originally fet out with good principles and intentions^ \vho, through want of difcretion in the application of their prin- ciples, have in the end injured themfelves, and brought difcrcdit on religion ? There is a certain temperate mean, in the obfervance of which, piety and virtue confill. On each fide there lies a dan* gerous extreme. Bewildering paths open ; by deviating into ^hich, men are apt to forfeit all the praife of their good intentions ; and to finifh with reproach what they had begun with honour, T his is the ground of the wife man's exhortation in the text. I^et thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyt'Uds lookjlraight before ihee. Pander the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be efiahlifh. ed. Turn not to the right handy nor to the left ; remove thy foot from evil. In difcourfmg from thefe words, I purpofe to point out fome of the extremes into which meir are apt to run in religion and morals ; and to fuggeft diredions for guarding againft them. With * Pfulm ci. 2«^ On Extremes, &c. 193 With regard to religious principles in genera), it may perhaps be expected, that I fliould warn you of the danger of being, on one hand, too rigid in adhering to it ; and, on the other hand, loo eafy in relaxing it. But the diftindion between thefe fuppof- ed extremes, I conceive to have no foundation. No man can be too ftridt in his adherence to a principle of duty. Here, there is no extreme. All relaxation of principle, is criminal. What confcience didlates, is to be ever obeyed. Its commands are iini- verfally facred. Even though it fliould be mifled, yet, as long as we conceive it to utter the voice of God, in difobeying it we fin. The error, therefore, to be here avoided is, not too fcru- pulous or tender regard to confcience, but too little care to have confcience properly enlightened, with refpedt to what is matter of duty and of fin. — -Receive not, without examination, whatever human tradition has confecrated as facred. Recur, on every oc- cafion, to thofe great fountains of light and knowledge, which are opened to you in the pure word of God. Diftinguilh, with care, between the fupcrftitious fancies of men, and the everlafting commandments of God. Exhauft not on trifles that zeal, which ougbt to be refcrved for the weightier matters of the law. Over- load not confcience, with what is frivilous and unnecefTary. BuE when you have once drawn the line, with intelligence and preci- fion, between duty and fin, that line you ought on no occafion to tranlgrcfs. Though there is no extreme in the reverence due to confci* ence, there may undoubtedly be an extreme in laying too much ftrcfs, either on mere principle, or on mere practice. Here we muft take particular care, not to turn to the right band, nor to the left ; but to hold faith and a good confcience united, as the Scripture, v;ith great proriety, exhorts us.* The error of refting wholly on faith, or wholly on works, is one of thofe fcdudions, which moft eafily miflead men ; under the femblance of piety on the one hand, and of virtue on the other. This is not an error peculiar to our times. It has obtained in every age of the Chriftian church. It has run through all the different modes of falfe re- ligion. It forms the chief diftindlion of all the various feds which have divided, and which ftill continue to divide the chuixh ; ac- cording * I Tim, i, 19. 294 ^^ Extremes in cording as they feave leaned mod to the fide of belief, cr to the lide of morality. Did we lifcen candidly to the voice of Scripture, it would guard us agaiiill eitlier extrense. 1 he Apoftle Paul every where teflifies, that by no vvorki, of our own, we can be juftified ; and that, without Jahh it is impnjjible to pleafe God. The Apoft'e James as clearly fhows, that faith, if it be unproductive of good works, juflirie:j no man. Between thofe fentiinents, there is no oppofition. Faith, without works, is nugatory and infignificant. It is a foundation, without any fuperftru6ture raifed upon it. It is a fountain, which fends forth no ftream ; a tree, which neither bears fruit, nor affords (hade. Good works, again, without good principles, are a fair, but airy ftruclure; without firmnefs or fta- bility. They refemble the houfe built on the fand ; the reed which Ihakes with every wind. You niuft join the two in full union, if you would exhibit the character of a real Chriftian. Ke vi'ho fets faith in oppofition to morals, or morals in oppofition to faith, is equally an enemy to the interefls of religion. Jle holcis up to view an imperfed and disfigured form ; in the room of what ought to command refped from all beholders. By leaning to one extreme, he is in danger of falling into vice ; by the other, of running into impiety. WHATb:vER. the belief of men be, they generally pride them^ felves in the pofleflion cf fome good moral qualities. The ienfe of duty is deeply rooted in the human heart. Without iovr.e pretence to virtue, there is no felf-efteem ; and no man willies to appear in his own view, as entirely worthlefs. But as there is a conftant flrife between the lower and higher parts of our na- ture, between inclination and principle, this produces muchcon- tradi61ion and inconfiltency in condudf. Hence arife melt of the extremes into which men run in their moral behaviour ; refting their whole worth on that good quality, to which, by conflitu- tion or temper, they are molt inclined. One of the firft and moft common of thofe extremes, is, that of placing all virtue, either in juftice, on the one band ; or in gene.'-ofity, on the other. The oppofition between theie, is moil difcernabk among two difTcrcnt clafles of men in fociety. They Religious and Moral Conclu^. 295 They who have earned their fortune by a laborious and induQri- ous life, are naturally tenacious of wl.at they have painfully ac- quired. To juftice, they confider themfelves as obliged ; but to go beyond it in acts of kindnefs, they confider as fuptrlluous and extra vagant. They will not take any advantage of others, which confcience tells them is iniquitous ; but neither will they make any allovv-ance for their necellities and wants. They con- tend, with rigorous exaclnefs, for what is due to themfelves. They are fatibfied, if no man fuffer unjuflly by them. That no one is benefited by thein^ gives them little concern, An- other fet of men place their whole merit in generofity and mer- cy ; while tojullice and integrity they pay fmall regard, Thefe are perfons generally of hivrher rauk, and of eafy fortune. To them, jullice appears a fort of vulgar virtue, requilite chiefly in the petty tranfadtions, which thofe of inferior ftation carry on witii one another. But humanity and liberality, they confider as more refined virtues^ which dignify their character, and cover all their failings. They can relent at reprefentations of diflrefs; can beftow with oftentatious generofity ; can even occafionally (hare their wealth vviih a companion of whom they are fond ; while, at the fame time, they withhold from others what is due to them ; are negligent of their family and their relations; and to the juil demands of their creditors give no attention. Both thefe dalles of men run to a faulty extreme. They di- vide n)oral virtue between them. Each takes that part of it only which fuits his temper. V/ithout juiiice, there is no virtue. But without huiuanity and mercy, no virtuous character is complete^ The one man leans to the extreme of parfimony. The other, to that of profufion. The temper of the one is unfeeling. The fenfibiiity of the other h thoughtlels. The one you may in fome degree refped ; but you cannot love. The other may be loved ; but cannot he refpe^led : and it is difficult to fay, which chciracler is moft defective. -—We mud undoubtedly begin with being ]vS\., before we attempt to be generous. At the fame time, he who goes no farther than bare juflice, ftops at the begin- ning of virtue. We are comoianded to do jujily ; but to love mercy\ The one virtue, regulates our actions. The other, improves our heart and aiFedions. Each is equally neceffary to the hap- pinefs "29^ On Extremes In pinefs of the world. Juftice is the pillar, that upholds the whole fabric of human fociety. Mercy is the genial ray, which cheers and warms the habitations of men. The perfedion of our fecial charafter confifts, in properly tempering the two with one ano- ther ; in holding that middle courfe, which admits of our being juft, without being rigid ; and allows us to be generous, without being unjuft. We mud next gUard againft either too great fcveriry, or too great facility of manners. Thefe are extremes, of which we every day behold inftances in the world. He who leans to the fide of leverity, is harfh in his cenfures, and narrow in his opi* ens. He cannot condefcend to others in things indifferent. He has no allowance to make for human frailty ; or for the difference of age, rank, or temper, among mankind. With him, all gaiety is finful levity ; and every amufcment is a crime. To this ex^ treme, the admonition of Solon)on may be underllood to belong; Be not righteous over much-, neither make thyfelf overw'ife» Why Jfl:Qulc(f} thou dejlroy thyfelj P* When this feverity of manners is hypocritical, and afTumed as a cloak to fccret indulgence, it is one of the worft: prollitutions of religion. But I now confider ir, not as the cflTeft of deHgn, but of natural aufterity of temper, and of contraded maxims of conduft. Its influence upon the perfon himfelf, is to render him gloomy and four ; upon others,^ to alienate them both from his fociety, and his counfels ; upon re- ligion, to fet it forth as a niorofe and forbidding principle. The oppofite extreme to this is, perhaps,, ftill more dangerous; that of too great facility, and accommodation to the ways of others. The man of this charader, partly from indolent weak- nefs, and partly from foftnefs of temper, is difpofed to a tame and univerfal alTent. Averle either to contradict or to blame, he goes along with the manners that prevail. He views every cha- rafter with indulgent eye ; and with good difpofitions in his breafl, and a natural relu6lance to profligacy and vice, he is entic- ed to the commiilion of evils which he condemns, merely through want of fortitude to oppofc others. Nothing, it muft be confefled, in moral condudl, is more difficult, than to avoid turning here, either to the right hand or ta the Jejt. One of the greateft trials both of wifdom and virtue is^ * Eccl, vii. 16. to Religious an J Moral CQndu&. 297 to preferve a juft medium between that harfhnefs of aufteniy^ which difgufts and alienates mankind, and that weaknefs of good- nature, which opens the door to finful excefs. The one lepa- rates us too much from the world. The other connects us too clofely with it ; and feduces us to folh-u) the multitude in doing evil. One who is of the former charader, lludies too little to be agree- able, in order to render himfelf ufeful. He who is of the latter, by ftudying too much to be agreeable, forfeits his innocence. If the one hurt religion, by cloathing it in the garb of unnecefTary ftri, therefore, would the fcolfer deride, what the loud voice of nature demands and juftihcs. He ere<5ls himfeU. againft the general and declared fenfe of the human race. But apart from this couGderation, 1 mufl call on him to at- tend to one of a i^ill more ferious and awful nature. Ey his li- centious ridicule of the duties of piety, and of the inflitutions of divine worfliip, he is weakening the power of confcience over men; he is undermining the great pillars ot fociety ; he is giving a mortal blow to public order, and public happinefs. All thefe reft on nothing fo much as on the general belief of an all- feeing witnefs, and the general veneration of an Almighty Governor. On this belief, and this veneration, is founded the whole obliga- tion of an oath ; without which, government could not be admi- niftered, nor courts of jufrice ad; controverfies could not be de- termined, nor private property be preferved fafe. Our only fe» curity againft innumerable crimes, to which the reflraints of hu- jTian laws cannot reach, is the dread of an invifible avenger, and of thofe future punifiiments which he hath picpsred for the guil- ty. Remove this dread from, the rninds of men, and you ftrength- ^n the hands of the wicked, and endanger the fafety of human fociety. But how could impreifions [o ncceiTary to the public welfare be On Scoffing at Religion, 30*5 he prcferved, if there were no religious aflemblies, no facred in- ftitutions, no days fet apart for divine worfhip, in order to be fo- lenin remembrancers to men, oftheexiftence,and the dominion of God ; and of the future account they have to give of their ac- tions to him ? To all ranks of men, the fentiments which public religion tends to awaken, are falutary and beneficial. But with rerpe(El to the inferior clafTes, it is well known, that the only principles which reftrain them from evil, are required in the religious afTcmblies which they frequent. Deftitute of the ad- vantages of regular education ; ignorant, in a great mcafure, of public laws; unacquainted with thofe refined ideas of ho- nour and propriety, to which others of more knowledge have been trained, were thofe facred temples deferted, to which they now refort, they would be in danger of degenerating into a fe- rocious race, from whom lawlcls violence was perpetually to be dreaded. He, therefore, who treats facred things with any degree of le- vity and fcorn, is ading the part, perhaps without his feeing or knowing it, of a public enemy to fociety. He is precifely the madman defcribed in the book of Proverbs,* who caftetb fire- branch, arrows , and death ; and Jaith, am I not in J port P We fhall hear him, at times, complain loudly of the undutifulnefs of children, of the difhonefty of fervants, of the tumults and info- lence of the lower ranks ; while he himfelf is, in a great meafure refponfible for the diforders of which he complains. By the ex- ample which he fets, of contempt for religion, he becomes accef^ fary to the manifold crimes, which that contempt occaGons among; others. By his fcoffing at facred inftitutions, he is encouraginjy the rabble to uproar and violence ; he is emboldening the falfe witnefs to take the name of God in vain ; he is, in efFed", put- ting arms into the hands of the highwayman, and letting loofe the robber on the flreets by night. We coine next to confider that great clafs of duties which re- fpe«a our condud: towards our fellow-creatures. The abfolute neceility of thefe to general welfare is fo apparent, as to have fecured them, in a great degree, from the attacks of the fcoffer. He who fliould ittempt to turn juftice, truth, or honeRy, into ri- dicule, - Prov. xxvi. 1 8. 2c6 Cn Scoffing at Rdiglon* dicule, would be avoided by every one. To thole who had any remains of principle, he would be odious. To thofe who attended only to their intereft, he would appear a dangerous man. But though the focial virtues are treated in general as refpedable and facred, there are certain forms and degrees of them, which have not been exempted from the fcorn of the unthinking. That ex- tenfivegenerofity, and high public fpirit, which prompt a man to facrifice his own intereft, in order to promote fonae great general good ; and that ftridland fcrupulous integrity, which will not al- low one, on any occafion, to depart from the truth ; have often been treated with contempt by thofe who are called men of the world. They who will not ftoop to flatter the great ; who dif- dain to comply with prevailing manners, when they judge them to be evil ; who refufe to take the fmalleft advantage of o- thers, in order to procure thegreateft benefit for themfeves ; are reprefented as perfons of romantic chara6ler, and vifionary no- tions, unacquainted with the world, and unfit to live in it. Such perfons are fo far from being liable to any juft ridicule, that they are intitled to a degree of refpecf, which approaches to veneration. For they are, in truth, the great fupporiers and guardians of public order. The authority of their character over- awes the giddy multitude. The weight of their example retards the progrefs of corruption ; checks thatrclaxationof morals, which is always too apt to gain ground infenfibly, and to make encroach- ments on every department of lociety. Accordingly, it is this high generofity of fpirit, this inflexible virtue, this regard to principle, fuperior to all opinion, which has ever marked the characiers ct thofe who have eminently diftingulfhed themlelves in public lite ; who have patronifed the caufe of juftice againft powerful opprelT- ors ; who, in critical times, have fupported the falling rights and liberties of men ; and have refledled honour on their nation and country. Such perfons may have been fcolFed at by fome among whom they lived ; but pofterity has done them ample juflice ; and they are the perfons whofe names are recorded to future ages, and who are thought and fpoken of with admiration. The mere temporizer, the man of accommod^-iting principles, and inferior virtue, may fupport a plaufible character for a v/hile among his friends and followers ; but as foon as the hollownefs of his Cn Scoffirtg at Rdigkn. ^07 his principles is detciftecl, he finks inro contempt. They who are prone to deride men of inllexiblc integrity, only betray the littlenefs of their minds. They (how that they underiland not the fbblime of virtue ; that they have no difcernaient of the true excellence of man. By affeding to throw any difcouragemems on purity and ilriclnefs of morals, they not only expofe themfcives to juic contempt, but propagate fentiments very dangerous to fo- ciety. For, if we loofen the regard due to virtue in any of its parts, we begin to Hip tiie whole of it. No man, as it has been cfti^m faid, becomes entirely proHigate at once. He deviates, flep by Hep, from confcience. if the loofe cafuiftry of the fcolfer were to prevail, open dilhonefly, falfehood, and treacliery, would fpeedily grow out of tho(e;^on)piyJng principles, thofe relaxations of virtue, which he would reprefent to be necelTary for every man who knows the world. THElaft clafs of virtues I am to mention, are thofe which are of a perfonal nature, and which relpect the government to be exerciled over our pleafures and paflions. Here, the fcoffer has always confi- dercd himlelf as having an ample field. Often, and often, have fuch virtues as fobriety, temperance, modeily, and chalVuy, been made the fubjecl of ridicule, as monkifn habits, which exclude men from the company of the fafhionable and the gay ; habit.% which are the ellecT: of low education, or of mean fpirits, or of mere feeblenefs of conllitution ; while fcofFers, waikhigj as it is too truely faid of them by the Apoftle, ajter their lujls, boaft of their own man» ners as liberal and free, as manly and fpifited. They fancy them- felves raifed thereby much above the crowd ; and hold all thofe in contempt, who confine themfelves within the vulgar bounds of regular and orderly' life. Infatuated men ! who fee not that the virtues o'i which they make fport, not only derive their authority frojn the laws of God, but are moreover effentially requifite both to public, and to pri- vate happinefs. By the indulgence of their licentious pleafures for a while, as long as youth and vigour remain, a few pafling grati- fications may be obtained. But what are the confequences? Sup. pofe any individual to perfevere unre(trained in this courfe, it is certainly to be followed by difrepute in hisch^racler, and diforder ia his affairs; by a wafted and broken conSiuuion; and a fpccd/ O o anil 3o8 On Scoffing at Religion. and mifersble old age. Suppofe a fociety to be wholly formed of fiich perfons as the fcofFers applaud ; fuppofe it to be filled with none but thofe whom they call the ions of pleafure ; that is, with the intemperate, the riotou?, and dilTolute, among whom all regard to fobriety, decency, and private virtue, was aboliflied ; what an odious fcene would fuch a fociety exhibit? How unlike any civilized or well-ordered ftatc, in which mankind have cho- itn to dwell? What turbulence and uproar, what contefls and quarrels, would perpetually reign in it? What man of common underftanding would not rather chufe to dwell in a defert, than to be affociated for life with fuch companions ? Shall, then, the IcofFer prefume to make light of thofe virtues, without which there could be neither peace nor comfort, nor good order^ among ma-nkind ? Let him be defired to think, of h'rs domeftic fituation and con- nections. Is he a father, a hufband, or a brother? Has he any friend or relation, male or female, in whofe happinefshe is interefted ?-— XiCt us put the queftion to him, whether he be willing that intem- perance, unchaftity, or diflipation of any kind, fhould mark their character? Would he recommend to them fuch excefles ? Would he chufe, in their prefence, openly, and without difguife, to feoff at the oppofite virtues, as of no eonfeqijenGe to their welfare? — If even the moli licentious fluidders at the thought; if, in the m^idft of his loofe pleafures, he be delirous that his own family fliould re- main untainted ; let this teach him the value of thofe private vir- tues, which, in the hours of diflipation, in the giddinefs of hJs mind, he is ready to contemn. Bani(h fobriety, temperance, and purity, and you tear up the fouLidations of all public order, and all domeftic quiet. You render every houfe a divided and mifera- ble abode, refounding with terms of fbame, and mutual reproach- es of infamy. You leave nothing refpedable in the human cha- racter. You change the man into a brute. The conclufion from all the reafonings which we have now purft]- ed is, that religion and virtue, in all their forms, either of doc- trine or of precept ; of piety towards God, integrity towards men, or regularity in private conduct; are fo far from affording any grounds of ridicule to the petulant, that they are entitled to our highefl On Scoffirjg at Rdigkn, 009 higheft veneration ; they are names, which fliould never be men- tioned but with the utmoft honour. It is faid in fcripture, Fools make a mock at Jin.\ They had better make a mock at pedilence^ at war, or famine. With one, who (hould chufe thefe public calamities for the fubjedl of his fport, you would not be inclined to aflbciate. You would fly from him, as worfe than a fool ; as a man of dirtempered mind, from whom you might be in hazard of receiving a fudden blow. Yet certain it is, that, to the great fociety of mankind, fin is a greater calamity than either peftilence, or famine, or war. Thefe operate, only as occalional caufes of mifery. But the fins and vices of men, are perpetual fcourges of the world. Impiety and injuftice, fraud and falfehood, intempe- rance and profligacy, are daily producing mifchief and diforder; bringing ruin on individuals ; tearing families and communities in pieces; giving rife to a thoufand tragical fcenes on this unhap- py theatre. In proportion as manners are vicious, mankind are unhappy. The perfedlion of virtue which reigns in the world a- bove, is the chief fource of the perfed blefftdnefs which prevails there. When, therefore, we obferve any tendency to treat religion or morals with difrefped: and levity, let ushjold it to be a fure in- dication of a perverted underftanding, or a depraved heart. In the feat of the fcorner, let us never fit. Let us account that wit contaminated, which attempts to fport itfelf on facred fubjedts. When the fcoffer arifcs, let us maintain the honour of our God, and our Redeemer ; and refolutely adhere to the caufe of virtue and goodnefs. The lips of the wife utter knowledges but the mouth of the foolifh is near to deflruciion. Him that honoureth God, God will honour. The fear of the Lord is the beginning ofwifdom; and he that keepeth the commAndment, keepdh his own fouU S E R. f J?rov> xiv, 9, S 'E R M O N XLIX On the Creation of the World. ;!t-rJ-4-r"4--¥""^' Genesis i. j. hz ihs beginning Cod created the Heaven and the Earth, UCH is the commencement of the hiftory of mankind ; an sra, to which we muPt ever look back with folenm awe and ve- neration. Before the Um snd the moon had begun their couriei before the found of the human voice was heard, or the name of man was known ; In the bfglnnlrig Cod created the heaven, and the earth,—- — To a beginning of the world, we are led back by every thing that now exifts ; by all hidory, all records, all monuments of antiquity. In tracing the tranfactions of paft ages, we arrive at a period, which clearly indicates the infancy of the human race. We behold the world peopled by degrees. We afcend to the origin of all thofe ufeful and necellary arts, without the knowledge of which, mankind could hardly fubfift. We difcern fociety and ci- vilization arifingfrom rude beginnings, in every corner of the earth; and gradually advancing to the ftate in which we now find them : All which afford plain evidence, that there was a period when mankind began to inhabit and cultivate the earth. What is very remarkable, the moft authentic chronology and hiftory of moft nations, coin- cides with the account of Scripture ; and makes the period du- ring which the world has been inhabited by the race of men, not to extend beyond (m thoufand years. To the ancient philofophers, creation from nothing appeared an unintelligible idea. They maintained the eternal exiflence of matter, which they fuppofed to be modelled by the fovtreign mind of the univerfe, into the form which the earth now exhibits. But there is nothing in this opinion which gives it any title to be oppofed to the authcirity of revelauon. The dodrine of two felf- exiftcnt^ On the Creation of the World, 311 eMident, iiKlef>endcnt principles, God and matter, the one acHiive, the other paifive, is a hypothelis whicii prefents difficulties to human reafon, at leaft as great as the creation of matter from nothing. Adhering then to the teftimony of Scripture, we believe, that in the beg'miiing God created^ or from non-exiftence, brought into be- ing, the heaven and the earth. But though there was a period when^this globe, with all that we fee upon it, did not exiil, we have no reafon to think, that the wifdom and power of the Almighty were then without exercife or employment. Boundlefs is the extent of his domi- nion. Other globes and worlds, enlightened by other funs^ may then have occupied, as they ftill appear to occupy, the ini- nienfe region? of fpace. Numberlefs orders of beings, to us un- known, people the wide extent of the univerfe ; and afford an endlefs variety of objeds to the ruling care of the great Father of all. At length, in the courfe and progrefs of his government, there arrived a period, when this earth was to be called into ex- illence. When the fjgnal moment, predeftined from all eternity, was come, the Deity arofe in his might; and with a word creat- ed the world, What an illuflrious mon.ent was that, when, from non-exiftence, there fprang at once into being, this mighty globe, on which fo many millions of creatures now dwell !~No preparatory meafures were required. No long circuit of means was employed. He /pake ; and it was done : He commanded ; and it Jlood fajh The earth was at nrft, "without form , and void; and darknef; was on the face of the deep. The Almighty furveyed the dark abyfs; and fixed bounds to the feveral divifions of nature. He faid, Id there he light ; and there was light. Then appeared the fea, and the dry land. The mountains rofe ; and the rivers flowed. The fun and moon began their courfe in the flcies. Herbs and plants clothed the ground. The air, the earth, and the waters, were flored with their refpedive inhabitants. At lad, man was made after the image of God. He appeared, walking with countenance eredl; ; and received his Creator's benediction, as the lord of this new world. The Almighty beheld his work, whan it wasfinilhed; and pronounced it good. Superior beings faw with wonder this new acceiiion to exigence. The morning J^ars fang together; and all the fans of God Jhouted for joy * * Job xxxviii. 7. But, jf 2 On the Creation cf the World, But, on this great work of creation, let us not merely gaze wiih artonifliment. Let us confider how it iTiould affed our conduct, by prei'enting the divine perfections in a light which is at once edifying, and comforting, to man. It difplays the Creator ss fupreme in power, in wifdom, and in goodnefs. I, As fupreme in power. When we confider with how much I'abour and difiiculty hies the bounds of thei?^ habltathrii' If their lot appear to them ill-lorted, and their condition hard and unequal, let theni only put the queftion to their own minds. Whether ii be moft probable, that the great and wife Creator hath erred in his diftri- bution of human things, or that they have erred, in the judgment which they formed concerning the lot afTigned to them? Can they believe that the divine Artift, after he had contrived and iiniflied this earth, the habitation of men, with fuch admirable wifdom, would then throw it out of his hands as a neglected work ; would fufFer the affairs of its inhabitants to proceed by chance; and would behold them without concern, running inro milrule and diforder? Where were then that confiltency of condudl, which we difcovef in all the works of nature, and which we cannot but afcribe to a perfedt Being? — My brother! when thy plans are difappoint* ,€d, and thy heart is ready to defpair ; when virtue is opprefled^ find the wicked profper around thee; in thofe moments of difturb- ance, look up to liim who created the heaven and the earth; and ■confide, that he who made light to fpring from primeval darknefs, will make order at laft toanfe from the ieeming confufion of th« world. Had any one beheld the earth in its flate of chaos ; when the ele- ments lay mixed and confufed ; when the earth was imthout form an^ vo'ii]^ and darknefs was on the face of the dap ; would he have believed, that it was prefently to become fo fair and well ordered a globe as we now behold ; illuminated with the fplendour of the P p fun. 3 T 6 ^« the Creation of the Worfcl, fun, and decorated with all the beauty of nature ? The fame po"^- erful hand, which perfe6led the work of creation, fliall, in dus time, difembroil the plans of Providence. Of creation, we can judge more clearly, becaufe it ftood forth at once ; it was perfect from the beginning. But the courfe of Providence isprogrefiive. Time is required for the progrelhon to advance ; and before it is finidied, we can form no judgment, or at lead, a very impeifed one, concerning it. We muft wait until th€ great sera arrive, when the fecrets of the univerfe fhall be unfolded ; when the di- vine defign fhall be coniiimmated ; when Providence fliall bring all things to the fame completion which creation has already attained. Then we have every reafon to believe, that the wife Creator fliall appear in the end, to have been the wife and juft rnier of the world. Until that period come, let us be contented and pa- tient* let us fubmit and adore. Although thoujayejiy thou palt not fee hhn, yet judgment is be/ore him ; therejore, trufi thou in hi^n. % This exhortation will receive more force, when we, III. Considf:r creation as a difplay of fopreme goodnefs, nolefs than of wifdom and power. It is the communication of nunjberlefs benefits to all who live, together with cxiftence. Juflly is the earth laid to ht full of the gor^dnejs of the Lord Throughout the whole fyftem of things, we behold a manifefl tendency to promote the benefit either of the rational, or the animal creation. In fome parts of nature, this tendency may be lefs obvious than in others. Objects which to us feem ufelefs, or hurtful, may fome- times occur ; and ftrange it were, if in fo vafl and complieated'a fyitem, difficulties of this kind fhould not occafionally prefent themfelves to beings, whofe views are fo narrow and limited as ours. It is well known, that in proportion as the knowledge of na- ture has increafed among men, thefe difficulties have diminiflied. Satisfactory accounts have been given of many perplexing appear- ances. Ufeful and proper purpofes have been found to be pro- moted, by objects which were, at firft, thought unprofitable of noxious. Malignant nuift be the mind of that perfon ; with a diffort- ed eye he muft have contemplated creation, who can fufpedl, that it is not the production of infinite benignity and goodnels. Ho^' many f Job XXXV. J 4. On the Creation of the World, tiy jnany clear marks of benevolent intentions appear, every where around us? What a profalion of be^tuty and ornamemt is poured forth on the face of nature? What a magnificent fpcdacle prefent- ed to the view of man? What fupply contrived for his wants? What a variety of obj^ds fet before him, to gratify his fenfes, to employ his underftanding, to entertain his imagination, to cheer and gladden his heart ? Indeed, the very exigence of the univerfe is a Handing memorial of the goodnefs of the Creator. For nothing, except goodnefs, could originally prompt creation. The fupreme Being, ielf-exiltent and all-lufficient, had no wants which he could feek to fupply. No new acceliion of felicity or glory was to refult to him. from creatures whom he made. It was goodnefs communicating and pouring itfelf forth, goodnefs delighting to impart happinefs in all its forms, which in the beginning created the heaven and the earth* Hence, thofe innumerable orders of living creatures with which the earth is peopled ; from the low- cil clafs of fenfative being, tothefaigheft rank of reafon and intelli- gence. Wherever there is life, there is fome degree of happinefs ; there are enjoyments fuited to the different powers of feeling ; and earth, and air, and water, are, with maguiiicent liberality, made to teem with life. Let thofe ftriking difplays of creating goodnefs call forth, on Ofur part, refponilve love, gratitude, and veneration. To this great Father of all exigence and life, to Him who hath raifed us ixp to behold the light of day, and to enjoy all the comforts which his world prcfents, l«t our hearts fend forth a perpetual hymn of praife. Evening and morning let us celebrate Him, who maketh the morning and the evening to rejoice over our heads; whoo/>f«» eth his handg and fatis^etb the d^Jirc of every iivlng thing. Let us rejoice, that we are brought into a world, which is the produc« tion of infinite goodnefs; over which a fupreme intelligence pre. fidei ; and where nothing happens, that was not planned and ar- ranged, from the beginning, in his decree. Convinced that he hateth not the works which he hath made, nor hath brought crea- tures intoexiftince, merely to fufFer unnccelTary pain, let us, even in the midltof forrow, receive, with calm fubmifTion, whatever he is pleafed to fend ; thankful for wh*t he bellows ; and fatislv ed, that, without good reafon, he t^kes nothing away. cijg Oti the Creation of the World, Such, in general, are the efFe£ts \i hich meditation cntliecrea.^ tion of the world ought to prodoce. It prefents fuch an aftonifh- ing conjunction of power, wildom, and goodrjefs, as cannot be be- held without religious veneration. Accordingly, among nil na- tions of the earth, it has given rife to religious belief and wcrfiiip. The mofl ignorant and favage tribes, when the}' locked round on the earth and the heavens, could not avoid afcribing their origin to fom« inviiible defigningcaufe, and feeling a propenfity to adore. They are, n)deed, the awful appearances of the Creator's power, by which, chiefly, they have been imprelTed ; and which have in- troduced into their worfhip fo many rites of dark fuperftition. When the ufual courfe of nature feemed to be interrupted ; when loud thunder rolled above them in the clouds, or earthquakes (hook the giound, the multitude fell on their knees, and, with trembling liorror, brought forth the bloody facrihce to appeafe the angry di- vinity. But it is not in thofe tremendous appearances of power merely, that a good and well-inflrucled man beholds the Creator of the world. In the conttant and regular working of his hands, in the Client operations of his wifdom and goodnefs, ever going on throughout nature, he delights to contemplate and adore him. This is one of the chief fruits to be derived fron) that more perfedt knowledge of the Creator, which is imparted to us by the Chnllian reveiation. Impreffing our minds with a juit fenfe of all Ills attributes, as not wife and great only, but as gracious and iTierciful, let it lead us to view every objed: of calm and undiifurbed nature, with a perpetual reference to m Author. We Ihali then behold all ths fcenes which the heavens and the earth prefent, with more refined feelings, and fublimer emotions, than they who regard them folely as c)bj<»ds of curiofity, or amufement. Nature will appear animated, and enlivened, by the prcfence of its Au- thor. When the fun rifes or fets in the heavens ; when fpring paints the earth, when fummer fhines in its glory, when autumn pours forth its fruits, or winter returns in its awful forms, we fiiall view the Creator manifeftlng himfelf in his works. We fliall meet his prefencein the fields. We (hall feel his influence in the cheer- ing beam. We fiiall hear his voire in the wind. We fhall behold •Urfelves every where furrounded with the glory of that unive^^ fal On ihe Creation af the World. 319 fal Spirit, who fills, pervades, and upholds, all. We fhall live in the world as in a greacand auguft temple; where the prefence of the divinity, who inhabits it, infpires devotion. Magnificent as the fabrick of the world is, it was not how* ever, intended ior perpetual duration. It was ere£ted as a tem- porary habitation for a race of beings, who, after adting there a probationary part, were to be removed into a higher ftate of ex- igence. As tliere was an hour fixed from alJ eternity for its crea- tion, fo there is an hour fixed for its dilToiution ; when the hea- vens and the earth ihail pals away, and their place fhall know them no more. The confideration of this great event, as the counterpart to the wprk of creation, fliall be ;he fubjedl of the ftiiowing difcourfe. SER. SERMON L. On the Dissolution of the World. 2 Piter iii. lo. But the Jay of the Lor J wilJ come as a thief w the night ; In the which the heavens /hall pafs away with a great mije, and the ele^ ments fl^sll melt ivith fervent heat ; the earth alfo, and the worH that are therein, fiat/ be burnt up. THESE words prefent to us sn awful view of the final cata- ftrophc of the world. Having treated, in the preceding dif- courfe, of the commencsment, let us now contemplate the clofa- of all human things. The diOolution of the material fyltem, is an article of our fa;th, often alluded to in the Old I'eitament, and clearly predi(fled in the New, It is an article of faith, fo far from being incredible, that many appearances in nature lead to the belief of it. We fee all terreftrial fubftances changing their form. Nothing that confilfs of matter, is formed for perpetual duration. Every thing around us, is impaired and confumed by time ; wax- es old by deorees, arad tends to decay. There is reafon, there- fore, to believe, that a ftrudure fo complex as the world, muft be liable to the fame law ; and fliall, at fome period, undergo the fame fate. Through many changes, the earth has already palTed; many fliocks it has received, and ftfil is often receiving. A great portion of what is now dry land appears, from various tokens, to have been once covered with water. Continents bear the marks of having been violently rent, and torn afunder from one another. New iflands have arifen from the bottom of the ocean, thrown up by the force of fubterraneous fire. Formidable earthquakes have, in divers quarters, (haken the globe ; and at this hour ter- rify, with their alarms^ many parts of it. Burning mountains have, On the Dilution of the World, jC?! have, for ages, been difchargirg torrents of flame; and frona time to time renew their explolions, in various regions. All thefe circumftances fliow, that in the bowels of the earth, the inftru- nients of its diflolution are formed. To our view, who behold only its furface, it may appear fii m and nnfhaken ; while its de- (irudion is preparing in fecret. The ground on which we tread is ujiderrnincd. Ccmbuftiblc materials are ftored. The train is laid. When tiie mine is to fpring, none of us can forefee. AccusTuMJ D to heboid the courfe of nature proceedii3g in re- gular order, we indulge, meanwhile, our plea fures and purfuiis with full fecurity ; and fuch aweful ftenes as the cunvulfion of the elements, and the diflolution of the world, are foreign to our thoughts. Ytt, as it is certain that foine generation of men muft wittefs this great catadrophe, it is fit and proper that we fliould fo!i>eiiines look forw ard to it. Such profpecis may not, indeed, be alluring to the bulk of n}en. But they carry a grandeur and ibleinnity, w}\ich are congenial to fome of the njofi dignified feel- ings in our nature ; and tend to produce elevation of thought. Amidll the circle of levities and follies, of little pleafures and lit- tle cares, which fill up the ordinary round of life, it is nccefTary that we be occalionaily excited to attend to what is ferious and great. Such events as are now to be the fubjed: of our medita- tion, awake the flumbering mind ; check tlie iicentioufnefs of idle thought, and bring home our recoUe(5tion to what raoft concerns us, as men and Chrilbans. Let us think what aftonifhment would have filled our mind*, and what devout emotions would have fwelled our hearts, if we could have been fpeciators of the creation of the world ; if we had feen the earth when it arcfe at firft, 'without form and vend, and beheld its parts arranged by the divine word ; if we had heard the voice of the Almighty, calling light to fpring forth from the darknefs that was on the face of tne deep ; if we had f«en the iun ariling, for the firft time in the eaft, with majeftic glory, aiKl all nature inftantly beginning to teem with life. This wonder- ful fcene, it was impofiible that any human eye could behold. It was a fpeciacie afforded only to angels, and fuperior fpirits. Bi7t to a fpedacleno le(s aOonifhing, the final dilTolution of the world we know there fhall be many human witnefi'es. The race ot men living /jj^i On the Dtffoluim tf the World, living ?n that laft age, fhall fee the prefages of the approaching fatal day. Tliere fliall bey/^nj in the fun, as the Scripture in- forms us, and figns in the moon, andftars ; upon the earth, dijirefs ef nations f -with perplexity ; the fea and the wave^ roaring, ^ They fhall clearly perceive, that univerfal nature is tending to ruin. They fhall feel the globe (hake ; fhall behold their cities fall, and the final conflagration begin to kindle around thera. Kca- lifing then this awful fcene ; imagining ourfelves to be already fpedators of it, let us, J. CoNTEiMPLATE the Supreme Being direding the diflblu- tlon, as he direcled the original formation of the world. He is the great agent in this wonderful tranfadion. It was by him forefcen. It was by him intended ; it entered into his plan from the moment of creation. This world was defined from the be- ginning to fulfil a certain period; and then its duration was to terminate. ISlot that it is any pleafure to the Almighty, to dil- play his omnipotence in deih'oying the works which he has made; but as tor wife and good purpofcs the earth was formed, fo for wife and good ends it is diflblved, when the time mofl proper for its termination is come. He who, in the counfels of his Provi- dence, brings about fo many revolutions among mankind ; who changeth ibe times and the feafons ; who raifes up empires to rule, in fuccelTion, among the nations, and at his pleafure puts an end to their glory; hath alio fixed a term for the earth itfelf, the feat of all human greatnefs. He faw it meet, that after the pro- batiojiary courfe wasfinifhed, which the generations of men were to accopnplilh, their prefect habitation Ihould be made to pafs away. Of the fealonablenels of the period when this change fhould take place, no being can judge, except the Lord of the uni- verfe. Thefe are counfels, into which it is not ours to penetrate. But amiJfl this great revolution of nature, our comfort is, that it is a revolution brought about by Him, the meafures of whole go- vernment are all founded in goodncfs. It is called in the text, *< the day of the Lord ;*' a day pecu- liarly his, as known to him only ; a day in which he iliall ap- pear with uncommon and tremendous majefty. But though it be the day of the terrors of the Lord, yet from ihefc terrors, his up- right * Luke xxi. 2c, On ike Diffolution of the World,. 323 tight and faithful fubjeds fhall have nothing to apprehend. They may remain fafe and quiet Ipec^ators of the threatening fcene. For it is not to be a liene of blind confufion ; of univerial ruin? brought about by undeligiiing chance. Over the fhock of the ele- ments and the wreck of nature, Eternal Wifdom prelides. Ac- cording to its dirediion, the conflagration advances v.'hich is to confunie the earth. Amidft every convulfion of the world, God fhall continue to be, as he was from the beginning, *' the dvvcll- *' ing-place of his fervants to all generations.*' The world may be loft to them ; but the Ruler of the world is ever the fame, un- changeably good and juft. This is the high tower, to which they can fly, and be fafc. " The righteous Lord loveth righteouf- *' nefs ;'* and under every period of his government, '^ his coun- <^ tenance beholdeth the upright. II. Let us contemplate the diffolution of the world, as the end of all human glory. This earth has been the theatre of many a great fpectacle, and many a high atchievement. There, the the wile have ruled, the mighty have fought, and conquerors have triumphed. Its furface has been covered with proud and ftately cities. Its temples and palaces have raifed their heads to the fties. Its kings and potentates, glorying in their magnificence, have erected pyramids, conftru^^ted towers, founded monuments, which thej^ imagined were to defy all the affaults ot time. " Their '^ inward thoughts was, that their houles were to continue for *' ever, and their dwelling-places to all generations.'' Its philo. fophers have explored the fecrets of nature; and flattered them- felves, that the fame of their difcoveries was to be immortal. * Alas ! all this was no more than a tranfient fhow. Not only *' thefalTiion of the world," but the world itfelf, " paffeth away.*- > The day cometh, when all the glory of this world fhall be re- - niembered only as *^ a dream when one awaketh." No longe f Ihall the earth exhibit any of thofe fcenes which now delight cc ^r eyes. The whole beautiful fabric is thrown down, never mo re to arife. As foon as the deftroying angel has fc.unded the hiil trumpet, the everlafting mountains fall ; the foundytions of the world are fhaken ; the beauties of nature, the decorations of art, the labours of induitry, periOi in one common flame. The globe itfelf fhall either return into its ancient chaos, ^^ without foroj 324 Cn the Diffolutton of the Woria, ^' and void ;'> or, like a ftar fallen from the heavens, fiiall be ef- faced from the univerfe, and ** its place fliall know it no more." This day of the Lord, it is foretold in the text, " will come " as a thief in the night j" thnt is, fudden and unexpected. Man- kind, notwithftanding the prefages given them, fliall continue to the laft in their wonted fecuriiy. Our Saviour tellsus, that "as in '^ the days of Koah before the flood, they were eating and drink- *' ing, marrying and giving in marriage, until the flood came " and took them all away ; fo Hiall alfo the coming of the Son of " Man be."f —How many projeds and defigns fhall that day fuddenly confound ? VV hat long-contrived fchemes of pleafure iball it overthrow? What plans of cunning and ambition fhall it utterly blaft? How raiferable they, whom it fhall overtake in the rnidft of dark confpiracies, of criminal deeds, or profligate plea- fures? In what ftrong colours is their difmay painted, when they arc reprefented in the book of Revelations, as calling " to the " hills and mountains to fall on them and cover them V^ Such defcriptions are apt to be confidered as exaggerated. The imprefhon of thole awful events is weakened by rhe great dif- tance of time, at which our imagination places them. But have not we had a ftriking image fet before us, in our own age, cf the terrors which the day of the Lord fliall produce, by thofe par- tial ruins of the world, which the vifitation of God has brought on countries well known, and not removed very far from our- felves? When in the midft of peace, opulence, and fecurity, fud- denly the earth was felt by the terrified inhabitants, to tremble, with violent agitation, below them ; whsti their houfes began to fliake over their heads, and to overwhelm them with ruins ; the flood, at the fame time, to rife from its bed, and to fwell around jthem ; when encompafTed with univerfal defblation, no friend could aid another ; no profpecl of efcape appeared ; no place of refuge remained ; how limilar were fueh fcenes of defirudion to the terrors of the lafl day ? What fimilar fenfations of dread, and remorfe, and too late repentance, niufl: they have excited among the guilty and profane ? To fuch formidable convulfions of nature, we, in thefe happy ill.inds, through the blefling of Heaven, are flrangers; and ilran- gers ■\ Matt. xxiv. 38. On the Dlffolution of the U^orld, 32 J gers to them may we long continue ! But however we may efcape partial ruins of the globe, in its general and final ruin, we alio mufl: be involved. To us mnft come at lall that awful day, when the fun fhall for the laft time arife, to perform his concluding cir- cuit round the world. They how bleft, whom that day fhall find employed in religious ads, or virtuous deetk ; in the confcien- tious difcharge of the duties of life ; in the exercife of due prepa- ration for the conclufion of human things, and for appearing before the great Judge of the world ! Let us now III, Contemplate the foul of man, as remaining unhurt m the midft of this general defolation, when the whole animal creation perifhes, and the v/hole frame of nature falls into ruins. What a high idea does this prefent of the dignity pertaining to the rational fpirit. The world may fall back into chaos; but, fu- perior to matter, and independent of all the changes of material things, the foul continues the fame. When " the heavens pafs *^ away with a great noife, and the elements melt with fervent " heat,'' the foul of man, (lamped for immortality, retains its ftate unimpaired ; and is capable of fiourifhing in undccaying youth and vigour. Very different indeed the condition of human fpirits is to be, according as their different qualities have marked, and prepared them for different future manfions. But for futurity, they are all deflined. Exiftence, ftill, is theirs. The capacity of permanent felicity they all pofTefs ; and, if they enjoy it not, it is owing to themfelves. Here, then, let us behold what is the true honour and excel-, lence of man. It confifts not in his body ; which, beautiful or vigorous as it may now feem, is no other than a fabric of duft, quickly to return to dufl again. It is not derived from any con- nection he can form with earthly things; which, as we have feen, are all doomed to perifh. It confiflsin that thinking part, which is fufcepiible of intellectual improvement and moral worth ; which was formed aft€r the image of God ; which is capable of perpetual progrefs in drawing nearer to his nature ; and fliall partake of the divine eternity, when time and the world fhall be no more. This is all that is refpedable in man. By this alone, he is railed above perifliable fubftances, and allied to thofe that are celeftial and 326 On the DlJJhluiion of the World, and immortal. This part of our nature, then, let us cultivate with care; and, on its improvement, rell our I'elf-eftima- tioD. If, on the contrary, fuffering ourfelves to be wholly iin- merfed in matter, plunged in the dregs of fenfuality, we behave as if we were only made for the body, and its animal pleafures, how degenerate apd b?.fe do we become? Deflined to lurvive tliis whole material fyfletn, fent forth to run the race of inunor- rality and glory, fhall we thus abufe cur Maker's goodnefs, de- grade our original honour, and fink ourfelves into deferved niife- ry ? h remaini-, that, IV. We contemplate the dilTolution of the world, as the intro- duction to a greater and nobler fyitem, in the government ot God. /F^, according fj his promife, look for new heavens and a new earth , wherein dwtikth right eoujnefs.* Temporal things are now to give place to things eternal. To this earthly habitation is to lucceed the city of the living God, The earth had completed the purpofe for which it was created. It had been employed as a theatre, on which the human c^enerations were fucceflively to co'V:e forth, and to fulfil their term of trial. As long as the period of trial conti- nued, much obfcurity was of courfe to cover the counfels of Pro- vidence, It was appointed, that all ihtngi fiiould appear as com- ing alike tQ all \ that the righteous fliould feem often negleded by Heaven, and the wicked be allowed externally to profper : ii) order that virtue aijd piety might undergo a proper telt ; thai it might be Ihown who were fjncere adherents to confcience, and who were mere followers of fortune. The day v. hich terminates tiie duration of the world, terminates all thofe fecn)ing diforders. The time of trial is concluded. The final difcrimantion of cha- raclers is made. When the righteous go toeverla(ting happinefs, and the wicked are difnjilled into the regions of punilhment, the whole mydery of human affairs is unravelled ; and the conduct of Providence is juftified to man. Suited to a condition of trial was the ftate and form of the world, which we now inhabit. It was nor deligned to be a man- lion for innocent and happy fpirits; but a dwelling for creatures of fallen nature, and of mixed characters. Hence, thofe mixtures of pleaiure and pain, of diiorder and beauty, with which it abounds. Hence, * 2 Pet, iii. 13. On the Dtffoluiion of the Worid, 327 Hence, fome regions of the earth, prefenting gay and plcafing fcenes ; others, exibiting nothing but ruggednefs and deformiiy ; the face of nature, fometimes brightened by a ferene atmofphere, and a fplendid fun ; fometimes disfigured by jarring elements, and overcaft with troubled ikies. But far unlike fliall be the everlaft- ing habitations of the juft: Though how they are formed, or what obje^s they contain, is not given us now to conceive; nor in all probability, would our faculties be equal to the conception. The emblematical defcriptions of them in Scripture, are calculat- ed to excite high ideas of magnificence and glory. This one par- ticular we kno^v with certainty, thai therein dwelleth right eoufnefs - that is, complete virtue, and eternal order ; and wherever thefe are found, the moft perfect fources are opened of joy and blifs. This earth was never intended for more than the outer court, the porch, through which the righteous were to pafs into the temple and fanduary of the Divinity. '^ When that which is '* perfed is come, that which is in part (hall be done away," The inference which follows from what has been faid on this fubje6l, cannot be fo well exprefTed as in the words of the Apoftle, in the verfe immediately following the text j '* feeing that all thefe *' things Ihall be diflolved, what manner of perfons ought we to *^ be in all holy converfation and godlmefs?'' Ought not the im- portant difcoveries which have been made to us, of the deligns of the Almighty, and of the delhiiy of man, to exalt our fentiments, and to purify our life from what is vicious or vain ? While we purfue the bufmeis and cares of our prefent ftation, and partake of the innocent pleafures which the world affords, let us maintain that dignity of character, which becomes immortal beings; let us act with that circuti^fpeAion, which becomes thole who know they are foon to (land before the judgment-feat of the Son of God, In a v^ord, let us fludy to be what we would wifli to be found, if to us the day of the Lord Ihould come. I KNOW it will occur, that the profped of that day cannot be expefted to have much influence on the prefentage. The events of which I have treated, muft needs, it will be faid, belong to fome future race of men. Many prophecies yet remain to be ful- filled. Many preparatory events mud take place, before the world isrioe (q-: fi-ul J'li- neiii. — Whether this be the cafe or not, none of 31 S On the DiJJolut'm of the World. of us .vith certainty know. — But allow me to remind you, that to eacli of us, an event is approaching, and not fardiftant, which fliall prove of ilie f^me effed:, with the coming of the day of the Lord. The day of death is, to every individual, the fame as the day of the difTolution of the world. The fun may continue to fhine j but to ihem who are hid in the grave, his light is finally extinguifhed. The world may remain adive, bufy, and noify ; but to them all is filencc. The voice which gives the mandate. Return again to jfMr (lud^ is the fame with the found of the laft trumpet. Death lixes the doom of every one, finally and irrevocably. This fure- 3y is an event which none of us can remove in our thoughts to a remote age. To-morrow^ to-day, the fatal mandate may be if- lued. IVatchj therefore; he fiber and vigilant ; ye know not at "what hour the Son of Man comeih. Having now treated both of the creation and difTolution of the world, I cannot conclude, without calling your thoughts to the jnagnificent view, which thefe events give us of the kingdom and fnall. be finiihed, then, as a fiiepherd leads his flock from one pafture to another, fo the great Creator leads forth the fouls which he has made, into new and prepared abodes of life. They go from tiiis esrth to a new earth, and new heavens ; and ftill they re- move, only from one province of the divine dominion to another. AmidR ail thofe changes of nature, the great Ruler himfelf re-. mains Cn the Dijpjhtiion of the World, 329. mains without varlahknefs or Jhadow of turning. To him, thcfe fuc- ceflive revolutions of being are but asyeflerday ihhen it ispajl. From his eternal throne, he beholds worlds rifing and palling away; meafures out, to the creatures who inhabit them, powers and fa- culties Ibited to their (late ; and diflributtc among them rewards and punifhments, proportioned to their adions. — VVhat an aftonifh- ing view do fuch meditations afford ot the kingdom of God ; in- finite in its extent; everlafting in its duration; exhibiting, in e- very period, the reign of perfect righteoufnefs and wifdom ! " Who <^ by fearching can find out God ? Who can find out the Almighty '' to perfedion? Great and marvellous are all thy works, Lord <' God Almighty ! Juft and true are all thy ways, thou King of '' faints!'' N I S.