,%^
?^
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. Thef<Sf
B are
fo On the proper Efilmate
are objects on which, as on diftant meteors, they gaze from afar,
without drawing perfonal inflrudion from events fo much above
them. But, alas! when we defcend into the regions of private
h"fe, we find difappointment and blafted hope equally prevalent
there. Neither the moderation of our views, nor the juftice of
our pretenfions, can enfure Ibccefs. But time and chance happen to
all. Againft the ftream of events both the worthy and the unde-
ferving are obliged to druggie ; and both are frequently over-
borne alike by the current.
Besides difappointment in purfuit, difiatisfaclion in enjoyment
is a farther vanity to which the human flate is fabjedl. This is the
fevered of all mortifications, after having been fuccefsful in the
purfuit, to be baffled in the enjoyment itfelf. Yet this is found to
be an evil (till more general than the former. Some may be fo
fortunate as to attain what they have purfued ; but none are ren-
dered completely happy by whac they have attained. Difappoint-
ed hope is mifery ; and yet fuccefsful hope is only imperfed: blifs.
Look through all the ranks of mankind. Examine the condition
of thofe who appear mod profperous ; and you will find that they
are never juft what they defire to be. If retired, they languifij
for aftion ; if bufy, they complain of fatigue. If in middle life,
they are impatient for diftinftion ; if in high ftations, they figh af-
ter freedom and eafe. Something is ftill wanting to that pleni-
tude of fat-isfacLion which they expeded to acquire. Together
with every wifli that is gratified, a new demand arifes. One void
opens in the heart, as another is filled. On wiflies, wilhes grow ;
and to the end, it is rather the expedation cf what they have not,
than the enjoyment of what they have, which occupies and intereffs
the moft fuccefsful.
This dilfatisfaclion, in the midfl of human pleafure, fprings part-
ly from the nature of our enjoyments themfelves, and partly from
circumftances which corrupt them. No worldly enjoyments are a-
dequate to the high defiresand powers of an immortal fpirit. Fan-
cy paints them at a diftancc with fplendid colours ; but pofTefiion
unveils the fallacy. The eagernefs of paflion beflows upon them
at firft a brifli and lively relidi. But it is their fate always to pall
by familiarity, and fometimes to pals from fatiety into difguft. Hap-
py would the poor man think hin;felf if he could enter on all the
treafures
<f Hitman Life, 1 1
treafures of the rich ; and happy for a (hort while he might be ;
but before he had long contemplated and admired his ftate, his pof-
feflions would feem to lefTen, and his cares would grow.
Add to the unfatisfying nature of our pleafures, the attending
circumftances which never fail to corrupt them. For, fuch as they
are, they are at no time polTelTed unmixed. To human lips it is
not given to tafte the cup of pure joy. When external circum-
ftances fliow faireft to the world, the envied man groans in private
under his own burden. Some vexation difquiets, fome paffions cor-
rodes him ; fome diftrefs, either fdt or feared, gnaws, like a worm,
the root of his felicity. When there is nothing from without to
difturb the profperous, a fecret poifon operates within. For world-
ly happinefs ever tends to deftroy itfelf, by corrupting the heart.
It fofters the loofe and the violent pafTions. It engenders noxious
habits ; and taints the mind with a falfe delicacy, which makes it
feel a thoufand unreal evils.
But put the cafe in the moft favourable light. Lay afide from
human pleafures both difappointment in purfuit, and deceitfulnefs
in enjoyment; fuppofe them to be fully attainable, and complete-
ly fatisfadiory ; ftill there remains to be confidered the vanity of
uncertain poflTefTion and fhort duration. Were there in worldly
things any fixed point of fecurity which we could gain, the mind
would then have fome bafis on which to reft. But our condition
is fuch, that every thing wavers and totters around us, Boaft
not thyfdf of to-morrow ; for thou knovjpft not what a day may bring
forth. It is much if, during its courfe, thou hearefi; not of fome-
what to dif(]uiet or alarm thee. For life never proceeds
long in an uniform train. It is continually varied by unexpeded
events. The feeds of alteration are every where fown ; and
the fun-fhine of profperity commonly accelerates their growth. If
your enjoyments be numerous, you lie more open on different fides
to be wounded. If you have pofTefTed them long, you have great-
er caufe to dread an approaching change. By flow degrees prof-
perity rifes ; but rapid is the progrefs of evil. It requires no pre-
paration to bring it forward. The edifice which it cofl much time
and labour to ered, one inaufpicious event, one fudden blow, can
level with the duft. Even fuppofmg the accidents of life to leave
us untouched, human blifsmuft ftill betranfitory ; for man chang-
es
12 On the proper Ejllmaie
es of himfelf. No courfe of enjoyment can delight us long.
What atDufed our youth loofes its charm in maturer age. As
vears advance, our pov\er5; are blunted, and our pleafurable feel-
jiin;s decline. The filent lapfe of time is ever carryiisg fomewhat
from us, till at lengih the period comes when all muft be fvvept a-
^vay. The prorpec!^ of this termination of our labours and pur-
fuits is fufficient to mark our ftate with vanity. Cur days are a
hand^breadth^ and our age is as nothing. Within that little
fpace is all our enterpriie bounded. We crowd it with toils
and cares, vith contention and ftrife. We projed great deilgns,
entertain higii hopes, and then leave our plans unfinilhed, and
fink irfto oblivion.
1'his much let it iuffice to have faid concerning the vanity of
the V. orld. 1 uat too much has not been faid, muft appear to e-
very one who confiders how generally mankind lean to the oppo-
fiie iiJe ; ar.d how often, by undue attachment to the prefent llate,
they both feed the moft {\\\\\:!^.y^A^\c^x\%,2iX\di pierce ihenifc Ives through
with many Jmrro-jjs , Let us proceed to enquire,
II, How this vanity of the world can be reconciled with the;
perfedions of its divine Author. This enquiry involves that great
d.fficulty which has perplexed the thoughtful and ferious in every
3gt ; If God be good, whence the evil that fills the earth? In an-
i\ver xo this interefting queftion, let us obferve,
In the firil place, that the prefent condition of man was not his
original ur primary llate. We are informed by divine revelation,
that It is the confequence of his voluntary apoftacy from God and
a tliite of innocence. By this, his nature was corrupted ; his pow-
ers v\ ere enfeebled ; and vanity and vexation introduced into his
lire. Ail nature be:ame involved in the condemnation of man.
The earth was curfed upon his account, and the whole creation
made U) grocin and travail in pain.
How myiterious foever the account of this fall may appear to us,
tna»y circu rdanres concur to authenticate the fdd:, and to fliovv
that hu'nan nature and the human (late have undergone an unhap-
py change. The belief of this has obtained in almofl all nations
and religions. It can be traced through all the fables of antiqui-
ty. An o'ofcure tradition appears to have pervaded the whole
f srth, that man is not now what he was at firfl ; but that, in con-
fequence
of Human Life. 13
/equence of fpme tranlgrelTion againfl bis great Lord, a ftate of de-
gradation and exile fucceeded to a condition that was more flou-
ri filing and happy. As our nature carries plain marks of perver-
fion and diforder. To the world which we inhabit bears the fymp-
toms of having been convulfed in all its frame. Naturalilfs point
out to us every where the traces of fome violent change which it
has fuffered. Iflands torn from the continent, burning mountains,
fliattered precipices, uninhabitable wafles, give it all the appear-
ance of a mighty ruin. The phyfical and moral flate of man in
this world mutually fympathize and correfpond. They indicate
not a regular and orderly (trudure either of matter or of mind,
but the remains of fomewhai that once was more fair and magni-
ficent. Let us obferve,
Ik the fecond place, that as this was not the original, fo it is not
intended to be the final (late of man. Though in confequence of
the abufe of the human powers, fin and vanity were introduced
into this region of the univerfe, it was not the purpofe of the Cre-
ator that they fhould be permitted to reign for ever. He hath
made ample provifion for the recovery of- the penitent and faith-
ful part of his fubjecls, by the merciful undertaking of that great
Reftorer of the world, our Lord Jefus Chrift. By him life and im-
mortality were both purchafed and brought to light. The ytew hea-
vens and the new earth are difcovered, wherein dwelleth righteoufnefs ;
where, through the divine grace, human nature fhall regain its
original honours, and man fliall return to be what once he was in
Paradife. Through thofe high difcoveries of the Gofpel, this
life appears to good men only in the light of an intermediate and
preparatory ftate. Its vanity and mifery, in a manner, difappear.
They have every reafon to fubmit without complaint to its laws,
^nd to wait in patience till the appointed time come for the rejlitu-
iion of a\i things. Let us take notice,
It! the third place, that a future ftate being made known, we
can account in a fatisfying manner for the prefent diftrefs of human
life, without the fmalleft impeachment of divine goodnefs. The
fufferings we here undergo are converted into difcipline and im-
provement. Through the bleffing of Heaven, good is extraded
from apparent evil ; and the very mifery which originated from
14 On the proper Efiimait
fin, is rendered the means of correcting finful pallions, and prepar-
ing us for felicity. There is much reafon to believe that crea-
tures asimperfeiH: as we are, require Ibme fuch preliminary ftate of
experience before they can recover the perfedion of their nature.
It is in the midd of difappointinents and trials that we learn the
infufficiency of temporal things to happinefs, and are taught to
feek it from God and Virtue. By thefe the violence of our palFions
is tamed, and our minds are formed to fobriety and refledion. In
the varieties of life, occafioned by the viciflitude of worldly for-
tune, we are inured to habits both of the active and the fufFering
virtues. How much foever we complain of the vanity of the world,
fads plainly fhow, that if its vanity were lefs, it could not anfwei*
the purpofe of falutary difcipline, Unfatisfadory as it is, its plea-
fures are flill too apt to corrupt our hearts. How fatal then muft
the confequences have been, had it yielded us more complete en-
joyment ? Jf, with all its troubles, we are in danger of being too
much attached to it, how entirely would it have feduced our affec-
tions, if no troubles had been mingled with its pleafures.^
Thefe obfervations ferve in a great meafure to obviate the dif-
ficulties which arife from ihe apparent vanity of the human ftate,
by fliewing how, upon the ChrilUan fyftem, that vanity may be re-
conciled with the infinite goodnefsof the Sovereign of theuniverle.
The prefent condition of man is not that for which he was originally
defigned ; it is not to be his final ftate ; and during his pallage
through the world, the diftrefTes which he undergoes are render-
ed medicinal and improving. After having taken this view of
things, the cloud which, in the preceding part of the difcourfe,
appeared to fit lb thick upon human life, begins to be diflipated.
We now perceive that man is not abandoned by his Creator.
We difcern great and good (rlefigns going on in his behalf. We
are allowed to entertain better hopes ; and are encouraged to en-
quire, as was propoled for the
Hid Head of difcourfe, Whether there be not, in the pre-
fent condition of human life, fome real and fulid enjoyments
which come not under the general charge of vanity of vanities.
The dodrine of the text is to be confidered as chiefiy addrefTed to
worldly men. Them Solomon means to teach, that kll expedati-
ons of blifs, which reft iblely on earthly poUeffions and pleafures
ftiall
%f Human Life* 15
fliall end in dlfappointment. But furely he did not intend to af-
lert, that there is no material difference in thepurfuiis of men, or
that no rael happinefs of any kind could now be attained by the
virtuous. For befides the unanfwerable obje6lion which this
would form againft the divine adminiftration, it would dircclly
contradict what he elfewhcre aflerts, that while God giveth fore
travail to the (inner, he giveth to the man that is good in his fight,
luifdom, and knowledge y and joy*. It may, it muft indeed be ad-
mitted, that unmixed and complete happineis is unknown on
earth. No regulation of condud can altogether prevent pafiions
from difturbing our peace, and misfortunes from wounding our
heart. But after this concefTion is made, will it follow that there
is no obje£l on earth which deferves our purfuit, or that all enjoy-
ment becomes contemptible which is notperfed? Let us furvey
our ftate with an impartial eye, and be juft to the various gifts of
Heaven. How vain foever this life, confidered in itfelf, may
be, the comforts and hopes of religion are fufficient to give fo-
lidity to the enjoyments of the righteous. In theexercife of good
affections, and the teftimony of an approving confcience ; in the
fenfe of peace and reconciliation with God through the great
Redeemer of mankind ; in the firm confidence of being conduct-
ed through all the trials of life by infinite wifdom and goodnefs ;
and in the joyful profped; of arriving in the end at immortal feli-
city, they poffefs a happinefs which, defcending from a purer
and more perfedt region than this world, partakes not of its vani-
ty-
Befides the enjoyments peculiar to religion, there are other
pleafures of our prefent ftate, which, though cf an inferiour
order, muft not be overlooked in the eftimate of human life. It
is neceffary to call attention to thefe, in order to check that repining
and unthankful fpirit to which m.an is always too prone. Some
degree of importance muft be allowed to the comforts of health,
to the innocent gratifications of fenfe, and to the entertainment
afforded us by all the beautiful fcenesof nature ; fome to the pur-
fi>its 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<T fcene of any courfe of adion in which we have been eno;ai;ed
with pleafure, even tlie laft fight of objccls which we have been
long accuflomed to behold, fcldom fails of flriking the mJnd wiih
painful regret. How many circumilances will concur to heighten
that regret, when the time comes of our bidiiing an eternal adieu to
the light of day ; to every purfuit which had occupied our atten-
tion as citizens of the world ; and to every friend and relation
who had attached our hearts ? How dcjecTiing is the thouglit to the
greateiL part of men, that the fun Ihall rife, and the feafons fliall
return to otliers, but no n)ore to them ; and that, while their
neighbours are engaged in the ufual affairs of life, they (hall be fluit
up in a dark lonefome m;^nrion, forgotten and cut off fromi among
men, as though they had never been ! 1 /aid, in the cutthig iff my
days J J Jhall ro to ih gates of the grave. I am deprived of the rtfidue
of ',ny years. 1 Jhall not fee the Lord again in the land of the living.
J fhall behold man no more with the inhabitants of the zuorld,*
Let us now obferve, that the dejeclion into which we are apt
to fink at ffich a juncture, will bear proportion to the degree of our
attachment to tlie objects w hich we leave, and to the importance
of thofe refources which remain with us when they are gone. He
who is taking farewel of a country through whicli he had travel-
led with fatisfadlion, and he who is driven from his native land,
with which he had connected every idea of fettlement and comfort^
will
* Ifalahj xxxviii. lo^ ii.
On Death, 29
will have veiy ditFerent feelings at the time of departure. Such is
the difference which, at the hour of death, takes place between
the ri'dneous and the ungodly. The latter knows nothing higher
or better than the prefent Itate of exiftence. His interelfs, his
pleafures, his exped:ations, all centered here. He lived folely for
the enjoyments ot this world. Dreadful, therefore, and infupport-
able mud be that event which feparates him from thefe for ever-
Whereas the culture of religion had previouQy formed the mind ot
a chriilian for a calm and ealy tranfition from this life. It had in-
liruc^ed him in the proper eftimate of fublunary happinefs. It
had kt higher profpects before him. It had formed him to a more
refined tafte of enjoyment, than what the common round of
worldly amufements could gratify. It gave him connexions and
alliances with fpiritual objeds, which are unknown to the men
of the world. Hence, though he be attached to life by the natu-
ral feelings of humanity, he is raifed above the weak and unman-
ly regret of parting with it. He knew that it was intended as pre-
paratory only to a fucceeding ftate. As foon as the fealon of pre-
paration fiiould be finifhed, he expected a removal; and when
Providence gives the fignaljhe bids adieu to the world with com-
pofed refolution and undilturbed heart. — What though deatii
interrupt him in the middle of his defigns, and break off the plans
which he had formed, of being ufeful to his family and the world?
All thefe he leaves with tranquillity in the hands of that Provider.ce
to which he has ever been accuftomed to look up with relignation ;
vhich governed the world wifely and gracicufly before he exiiied ;
and which he knows will continue to govern it with equal wifdom
and benignity when he fhall be in it no more. The time of his de-
parture was not left to his own choice ; but he believes it to be the
iTJoft proper, becaufe it is the time chofsn by Him who cannot err.
Honourable age is rfn that ivhlch Jianckth in length of time, nor that
which Is nicnfured by mimbsr of years. But wifdom is the grey hair to
7nan; and an unfp-jtted life is old age.* When he beholds his
friends and relations mourning around him, his heart may melr,
but will not be overpowered ; for it is relieved by the thought thac
he is bidding them only a temporary, not an eternal farewel. He
commends them in the mean time, to the blefling of that God
whom
^^ U'lfdoin of Sok-monj iv. 8^ 9,
30 On Death.
whom he has fervccl ; and while lie is parting from them, hehenrs
a voice wliich fooths his fpirit witli thofe comforting words. Leave
thy fatherlefs chilch en ; I w'lll preferve ihcm alive ; and let thy ivi-
do'jj truji in mc*
But death is more thn.n the conclufion of human life. It is the
gate which, at ilie fame time that it clofes on this world, opens
into eternity. Under this view, it has often been thefubjed of ter-
rour to the ferious and refledting. The tranfition they were about
to make was awful. Before them lay a vaft undifcovered region,
from whofe bourn no traveller ever returned to bring information
of the reception which he f>)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 ima<Tination, and encouraging to our hopes. It reprefents
it as fully fecured by the gracious undert^kipg o(- the Saviour
of the world. It defcribes it as an hihciitr.nce, to which he
has given his followers a right and title. Ke is faid to have
taken pofi^fhon of it in their nanie. He rofe from the grave as
ihefrji fruits rf ihcm that fcep ; and u.ulcr the ch^-jrader of their
fore- runner^
On Death, 33
fire-rufmer, entered into the heavenly regions. / am the re/ur-
re£iion and the life. He that helieveth on me, though he were dead,
yet fJmll he live, I give unto my /beep eternal life, 1 ajl\nd to my
Father and your Father, to my Cod and your Cod. *
Hence, to thofe who have lived a virtuous life, and who die in
the faith of Chrilt, the whole afpect of death is changed. Death
is to them no longer the tyrant who approaches with his iron rod,
but the nieflenger who brings the tidings of life and liberty. The
profpeds which open to them cheer their minds. Even in the
valley of death's (liade, green paJJures appear to rife. They view
themfeJves as going forth, not to lie lilent and folitary in the dark*
nefs of the grave, not to wander forfaken in the wide deferts of
the univerfe, not even to pafs into a region where they are alto-
gether Grangers and unknown ; but to enter on a land, new in-
deed to fight, but by faith and hope frequented long before ; where
they fliall continue to be under the charge of him who hath hither-
to been their guardian, be re-united to many of their ancient and
beloved friends, and admitted to join the innumerable multitude, ga*
thered out of all nations, and tongues, and people, who /land before the
throne of Cod, They leave behind the dregs of their nature ; and
exchange this confined and gloomy apartment of the univerfe, for
the glorious manfions of their Father's houfe. BlefiTed furely are
the dying in this hope, and hleffed the dead in this fruition, rtjiing
from their labours, and followed by their works. Good men are de-
tained at prefent in the outer court of the temple : Death admits
them into the holy place. As yet they fojourn in the territories
of pilgrimage and exile : Death brings them home to the native
land of Spirits. In this world they are divided from one another,
and mingled with the worthlefs and the vile : Death unites in one
alTembly all the pure and the juft. In the fight of the univerfe they
fcemed to die, and their departure was taken fr utter defifu£lion*
But they are in peace, Their reward alfo is with the Lord, and the
care of them with the Mo/t High, f — Death J where is now thyftingf
Crave ! where is thy vi^oryF Where are the terrours with which
thou haft fo long affrighted the nations? Where are thy dreary and
defolate domains, the haunts of fpedres and fbades, the abhorred
dwellings of darkneis and corruption? At the touch of the divine
rod, thy vifionary horrcurs have fled. The Ipell is broken. The
E dawn
* John, X!, 25. — XX. 17. f IFifdcm of Solomon, iii, 2, 3. — v. 15.
24 , Ort Death »
dawn of the celeftial morning has difpelled thy difmal gloom ; and,
iijftead of the habitations of dragons, appears the paradife of God.
But fuppofing both the regret of quitting life, and the dread of
entering into a future ftatc to be overcome, there is ftill one cir-
cumftance which renders death formidable to many ; that is, the
fhock which nature is apprehending to fuftain at the feparation of
the foul from the body. Formidable, 1 admit, this may ju%
render it to them whofc languifhing fpirits have no inward fund
M'hence they can then draw relief. Firmnefs and ftrength of mind
is peculiarly requilite for the fupport of nature in its laft extremi-
ty ; and that Urength is fupplicd by religion. The teflimony of a
<Tood confcience, and the remembrance of a virtuous life, a well-
grounded truft in the divine acceptance, and a firm hope of future
felicity, are principles firfncient to give compofure and fortitude to
the heart, even in the njidft of agony. In what a high degree they
can fufpend or alleviate the feelings of pain, has been fully demon-
flrnted by the magnanimous behaviour of fuch as have fuffered
death in the caufe of confcience and religion. How often has the
world beheld them advancing to meet that fuppofed king of ter-
rours, not with calmnefs only, but with joy ; raifed by divine
profpc(fls and hopes into an entire neglect and contempt of bodily
iuffering?
It is not without reafon that a peculiar afTiftance from heaven is
looked for by good nien at the hour of death. As they are taught
to believe, that in all the immergencies of their life divine goodnefs
has watched over them, they have ground to conckide, that at
the laft it will not forfake them ; but that, at the feafon when its
.lid is moft needed, it fnall be mod liberally conmiunicated. Ac
cordingly, a perfuafion fo congruous to the benignity and compaf-
fion of ihe Father of mercies, Iws been the comfort of pious men
in every age. My flcfi and my heart faileth ; but God is ihe
flrergth of my heart. In ihe valley of the fkadow of death 1 -will fear
m evil, for thou art with ?7ie. When the rod andf/affoi' this Shep-
herd of Ifrael are held forth to his expiring fervants, declining
nature needs no other fupport. The fecrct influence of his
reviving fpirit, is fuflicient for their confolaticn and firength,
while th« painful ftrnggle with mortality laPis; till at lengthy when
the
Cn Death, 35
the moment arrives that the fiber cord mufl he loofed, and the gold-
en bowl be broken, their Almighty Proteftor carries ofF the immortal
fpirit unhurt by the fall of its earthly tabernacle, and places it i::
a better manfion. — How refpedlable and happy is fuch a contlufi-
on of human life, when one in this manner quits the ftage of time,
honoured and fupported with the prefence of his Creator, and en-
joying, till the laft moment of reflection, the pleafing thought, thac
he has not lived in vain ? " I have fought a good fight ; I have
(inifhed my courfe ; I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid
for me a crown of righteoufnefs, which the Lord the righteous
Judge fhall give me at that day.*
After the view which we have taken of the advantages polTefs-
ed by good men for overcoming the fears of death, the firft fenti-
ment which fiiould arife in our minds, is gratitude to heaven for
the hopes which we enjoy by means of the Chriftian religion. How
deprefifed and calamitous was the human condition, as long as the
terrour of death hung, like a dark cloud, over the inhabitants of
the earth ; when, after all the toils of life, the melancholy filence
of the grave appeared finally to clofc the fcene of exiftence ; or,
if a future ftate opened behind it, that ftate teemed with all thofe
forms of horrour which confcious guilt could fugged to a terrified
imagination ! The happieft change which ever took place in the
circumftances of the human race, is that produced by the difco-
veries with which we are blefifed concerning the government of the
liniverie, the redemption of the world, and the future deftination
of man. How much dignify is thereby added to the human cha-
racter and (late I What light and cheerfulnefs is introduced into our
abode ! What eternal praife is due to him who, according to hh a^
hundant mercy, hath begotten us again into a lively hope, by the rejur^
region of Jefus Chrijl from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible^
undefiled, and that fadeth not away, referved in heaven ?
The next efFecT: which the fubjed we have confidered fiiould
produce, is an earneft defire to acquire thofe advantages which good
men enjoy at their death. The road which leads to them is plain
and obvious, A peaceful and happy death is, by the appointment
of
♦ 2 Tim* iv. 7, 8.
^6 On Death,
of Heaven, connected with a holy and virtuous life. Let us re-
nounce criminal purluits and pleafures; let us fear God and keep
his commandments ; let us hold faith and agoodco*ifcience, if we hope
for comfort at our laft hour. To prepare for this laft hour, eve-
ry wife man Ihould confider as his moft important concern. Death
may julily be held the teft of life. Let a man have fupported his
charader with efteem and applaufe, as long as he a^led on the bu-
fy Itage of the world, if at the end he finks into dejedlion and ter-
rour, all his former honour is effaced ; he departs under the im-
putation of either a guilty confcience, or pufillanimous mind. In.
the other parts of human condud, difguife and lubtlety may im-
pofe on the world ; but feldom can artifice be fupported in the hour
of death. The maik moft commonly falls oft, and the genuine
charader appears. When we behold the fcene of life clofed with
proper compofure and dignity, we naturally infer integrity and
fortitude. We are led to believe that divine affiftance fupports
the foul, and we preflige its tranfltion into a happier manfion*
I^lark the per f eft man^ and behold the upright ; for the end of that
man is peace, ^
The laft inftrudion which our fubjec'l points out, refpeiSls the
manner in which a wife and good man ought to ftand affedted to*
wards life and death. He ought not to be fervilely attached to
tlie one. He has no reafon abjedly to dread the other. Life is
the gift of God, which he may juflly cherilh and hold dear. Nay,
he is beund by all fair means to guard and preferve it, that he may
continue to be ufeful in that poft of duty where Providence has
placed him. But there are higher principles to which the love of
life (hould remain fuuordinate. Wherever religion, virtue, or
true honour, call him forth to danger, life ought to be hazarded
without fear. There is a generous contempt of death which fhould
diftinguilh thofe who live and walk by the faith of immortality.
This '\i the fource of courage in a Chriftian. His behaviour ought
to Ihew the elevation of his foul above the prefent world ; ought
to difcover the liberty which be poffefles of following the native
fentiments of his mind, without any of thofe reftraints and fetters
which the fear of death impofes on vicious men.
At
* Pfalm, xxxvii. 37,
On Death, 37
At the fame time, this rational contempt of death niuft carefully
be diftinguifhed from that inconfiderate and thoughtlefs indiffer-
ence, with which fome have affected to treat it. This is what
cannot be juftified on any principle of reafon. Human life is no
trifle, which men may play away at their pleafure. Death, in every
view, is an important event. It is the moft folemn crifis of the
human exiftence. A good man has reafon to meet it with a calm
and firm mind. But no man is entitled to treat it with oftentatious
levity. It calls for manly ferioufnefs of thought. It require* all
the recolledion of which we are capable ; that with the proper dif-
pofition of dependent beings, when the dull is about to return to
its du/it we may deliver up the fpirit to Him who gave it^
SERMON
C 38 3
SERMON XXIV.
On the Happiness of a Future State.
Preached at the Celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper.
-^ »-» -»-^-^-^-
Revelations vii, 9.
j0er this I beheld y an J, lo ! a great multitude, vjb'ich m man could
Tiumher, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, j} 00 d
before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes,
and palms in their hands,
IN this myfterious book of Scripture many revolutions are fore,
told, which were to take place in the church of God. They
are not indeed fo foretold as to afford clear and precife information
concerning the lime of their coming to pafs. It would have been,
on many accounts, improper to have lifted up too far that awful
veil which covers futurity. The intention of the Spirit of God,
was not to gratify the curiofity of the learned, by difclofing to them
the fate of monarchies and nations, but to fatisfy the ferious
concerning the general plan, and final ilTue, of the divine govern-
ment. Amidft thofe diftrelTes which befel Chriftians during the
firft ages, the difcoveries made in this book were peculiarly feafon-
able; as they (hewed tliat there was an Almighty Guardian, who
watched with particular attention over the interefts of the church
which he had formed ; who forefaw all the commotions which were
to happen among the kingdoms of the earth, and would fo over-
rule them as to promote in the end the caufe of truth. This is the
chief fcope of thofe myllic vifions with which the Apoftle John was
favoured; of feals opened in heaven ; of trumpets founding ; and
vials poured forth. The kingdom of darknefs was to maintain for
a while a violent ftruggle againft the kingdom of light. But at
the
On the Ilapp'mcfs of a Tuiure State. 39
the conclufion, a voice was to be heard, as " the voice of many wa-
" ters and of mighty ihnnderings, faying, Allelujah, fcr the Lord
'' God omnipotent reigneth. 1 he kingdoms of this world are be-
*' come the kingdoms of our Loid and of his Chrill, and he fliall
*' reign for ever,^^* Such is the profpecl with which the divine
Spirit at intervals enlightens, and with which he finally terminates,
the many dark and direful fcenes that are exhibited in this book.
In clofmg the canon of Scripture, he, with great propriety, leaves
upon our miiid deep imprefllons of the triumphs of righteoufnefs,
and of the blefiednefs of the redeemed. " After this I beheld,
'^ and, lo ! si great multitude, which no man could number, of
*^ all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, flood before
'* the throne, and before the Lauib, clothed with white robes and
" palms in their hands/'
Thefe words prelent a beautiful defcription of the happinefs of
faints in heaven ; a fubjed: on which it is, at all times, both
comfortable and improving to mieditate. On this day, in parti-
cular, when we are to commemiOrate the dying love of our Sa-
viour, we cannot be better employed than in contemplating what
his love hath purchafed; in order both to awaken our gratitude,
and to confirm our attachment to him. The facramentof the fup-
per is the oath of our fidelity. Let us difpofe our f elves for cele-
brating it, by tailing a view of the rewards which await the faith-
ful. I lliall, for this end, in feveral obfcrvalions from the words
of the text, taken in connection with the context, endeavour
toilluftrate, in fome imperfect degree, the profped which is here
afforded us of a ftate of future felicity ; and then fliaJl make prac-
tical improvement of the fubje(f|-, ^
L What the words of the text moft obvioufly fuggefl is, that
heaven is to be confjdered as a (tate of blefied Ibciety. J multitude,
a numerous afiembly, are here reprcfented as fharing together
the fame felicity and honour. Without fcciety, it is impofliblc
for man to be happy. Place iiim in a region where he was fur-
rounded with every pleafure ; yet there, if he found himfelf a
folitary individual, he would pine and languiHi. They are not
.inerely our v.'ants, and our mutual dependence, but our native in-
ftincls alio which impel us to afFcciate together. The intereourfe
whicli
* R£i\ xix, 6. — xi. 15,
4^ Oh the Happinefs
\vhich we here maintain with our fellows, is a fource of our chief en-
joyments. But, alas ! how much are thefe allayed by a variety of difa.
greeable circuniflances that enter into allour connexions! Sometimes
we iuffer from the diftrefles of thofe whom we love ; and fometimes
from their vices or frailties. W here friendlhip is cordial, it is ex-
poled to the wounds of painful fynipathy, and to the anguiih of
violent feparation. Where it is fo cool as not to occafion fympathetic
panis, it is never produclive of much pleafnre. The ordinary com-
n^erce of the world confilts in a circulation of frivolous intercourfe,
in which tlie heart has no concern. It is generally infipid, and
often foured by th? fliahteft difference in humour, or oppofition
of- intercih We fly to company, in order to be relieved from
V earilome correfpondence with ourfelves ; and the vexations which
we meet with in fociety drive us back again into folitude. Even
among the \'irtuous, dilTenfions arife ; and difagreement in opinion
too often produces alienation of heart. We form few conne<5lions
where lom.ewhat does not occur to difappoint our hopes. The be-
ginnings are often pleafing. We flatter ourfelves with having found
thofe who v.ill never give ns anydifguft. But weaknefTes are too
loon difcovered. Sufpicions arife; and love waxes cold» We
sre jealous of one another, and accuftomed to live in difguife. A
iiudied civility afTumes the name without the pleafure of friendfliip;
and fecret aniuiofity and envy are often concealed under the carefs-
fs of diiTembled affedion.
Hence the pleafure of earthly fociety, like all our other pleafure.%
is extremel}^ imperfecl ; and can give us a very faint conception of
the joy that mult arife from the fociety of perfecl: fpirits in a happi-
er vvorld. Here, it is with diinculty that we can feled from the
corrupted crowd a few with whom we wifli to affociate in ftrid:
union. 1 here, are afTembled all the wife, the holy, and the juft,
who ever exifted in the univerfe of God; without any diflrefs to
trouble their mutual blifs, or any fource of difagreement to inter-
rupt their perpetual harmony. Artifice and concealment are un-
known there. 1 here, no competitors druggie, no factions con-
tend ; no rivals fupplant each other. The \oice of difcord never
rifes, the whifper of fufpicion never circulates, among thofe inno-
cent and benevolent fpirits. Each, huppy in himfelf, participates
in the happinefs of all the reft; and by reciprocal cominunications
of
(if a Future State, 4 1
of love and friendfliip, at once receives from and adds to the fum
of general felicity. Renew the memory of the molt aftedlionate
friends with whom you were bleft in any period of your lite. Di.
veft them of all thofe iniirmities which adhere to the human cha-
rader. Recal the moft pleafing and tender moments which you e-
ver enjoyed in their fociety ; and the remembrance of thofe leni'a-
tions may afiift you in conceiving that fcliwity which is poflelTtd by
the faints above. The happinefs of brethren dwtU'ing iogtther in
unity, is, with great juftice and beauty, compared by the Pfahnift
to fuch things as are moft refrefliing to the heart of man ; to the
fragrancy of the richeit c^dours, and to the reviving influence of
foft aetherial dews. " It is like the precious ointment poured on
" the head of Aaron ; and like the dew of Hermon, even the dew
'' that defcendethon the mountains of Zion, where the Lord com-
** mandeth the blelTing, even lite evermore."*
Befides the felicity vhich fprings from perfect love, there are
two circumftat'ces which particularly enhance the bleflednefs of that
multitude who Ji and before the throne ; thefe are, accefs to the moft
exalted fociety, and renewal of the moft tender connexions. The
former is pointed out in the Scripture by "joining the innumera-
*' ble company of angels, and the general aflembly and church of
'^ the firft-born ; by litting down with Abraham, and Ifaac, and
" Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven ;"t a promife which opens the
fublimeft profpeds to the hi mm mind It allows good men to
entertain the hope, that, feparated from all the dregs of the humjii
mafs, from that mixed and polluted crowd in midft of which
they now dwell, they Ihall be permitted to mingle with prophets,
patriarchs, and apoftles, with legiflators and heroes, with all thofe
great and illuftrious fpirits, who have (hone in former ages as the
fervants of God, or the benefacflors of men; whofe deeds we arc
accuftomed to celebrate; whofe fteps we now follow at a diftance -
and whofe names we pronounce with veneration.
United to this high aflembly, the blefied at tlie fame time renew
thofe ancient connexions witn virtuous friends which had been dif-
folved by death. The profpedt of this awakens in the heart the
moft pleafing and tender fentiment which perhaps can fill it, in this
mortal ftate. For of all the forrows w hich we are here doomed
to endure, none is fo bitter as that occafioned b^ the fatal ftroke
F which
* Pfalm cxxxiii. i. f Heb. xii. 22; 23. Matth, viii. 11.
42 On the Happinefs
which feparates us, in nppearance, for ever, from thofe to whom
either nature or friendf]}ip had intimately joined our hearts. Me-
mory, from time to time, renews the anguifii ; opens the wound
which feemed once to have been clofed ; and by recalHng joys that
are part and gone, touches every fpring of painful fenfibility. In
thefe agonizing moments, how relieving the thought, that the re-
paration is only tenjporary, not eternal ; that there is a time to
come, of re-union with thofe with whom our happieft days were
fpent ; vvhofe joys and forrows once were ours ; and from whom,
after we (hall have landed on the peaceful Ihore where they dwell,
no revolutions of nature fliall ever be able to part us more I — Such
is the fociety of the blelfed above. Of fuch are the multitude
compofed who fiand bejore the throne. Let us now obferve,
II, That this is not only a blefledbuta numerous fociety. It is
called a multitude y a great multitude^ a great multitude which no man
could number. Thefe expreillons convey the moft enlarged views
of the kingdom of glory. Difmay not yourfelves with the appre-
henfion of heaven being a confined and almoft inaccelTible region,
into which it is barely poffible for a fmall handful to gain admif-
fion, after making their efcape from the general wreck of the hu-
man race. In my Father^s houfe, faid our Saviour, there are 7nany
mar.fmis. That city of the living God towards which you profefs
to bend your courfe, is prepared for the reception of citizens in-
numerable. It already abounds with inhabitants; and more and
more fliall be added to it, until the end of time. Whatever diffi-
culties there are in the way which leads to it, they have been often
furmounted. The path, though narrow, is neither impaflable, nor
untrodden. Though the gate (lands not fo wide as that which o.
penj into hell, yet through the narrow gate multitudes have en-
tered, and been crowned.
It is much to be lamented, that, among all denomination!
of Chriftians, the uncharitable fpirit has prevailed of unwarranta-
bly circumlgribing the terms of divine grace within a narrow circle
cf their own drawing. The one half of the Chriftian world has
often doomed the other, without mercy, to eternal perdition.
Without the pale of that church to which each fcdl belongs, they
feem to hold it impofTible for falvation to be attained. But is this
the genuine ipirit of ths Gofpel \ Can a Chriiliau believe the ef-
fevls
nf a Future State. 43
fe(fcs of the fulTerlngs of Chnft to be no greater than thefe? For
this did the Son of God dcfcend from the highefl: heavens, and
pour out his foul unto the death, that only a few, \\ho adopt the
fame modes of expreffion, and join in the fame forms of worlhip
with us, might be brought to the kingdom of heaven? Is this all
the deliverance he has wrought upon the earth? He was with child;
he was in pain; and fli all he not fee of the travail of his foul ^ and
be /atisfiedP Surely, the Scripture has given us full ground to con-
clude, that the trophies of our Redeemer's grace fhall correfpond
to the greatnefs of his power. ''The Captain of our falvation
*' fliall bring many fons with himfelf to glory. The pleafure of
<' the Lord fliall profper in his hand. He fliall fee his feed ; He
*' fhall juftify many. Men Ihall be blelTed in him, and all nati-
<' ons fliall call him bleffed." For our farther encouragement,
let us obferve,
III. That the heavenly fociety is reprefented in the text, as
gathered out of all the varieties of the human race. This is inti-
mated by the remarkable expreflions of a multitude which no man
could number, of all nations and kindreds , and people and tongues ; as if
defigned on purpofe to corred: our narrow notions of the extent
and power of divine orace. They whom diftant feas and regions
now divide, whofe languages and manners are at prefent ftrange
to one another, Hiall then mingle in the fame aflembly. No fitu-
ation is fo remote, and no ftation fo unfavourable, as to preclude
accefs to the heavenly felicity. A road is opened by the Divine
Spirit to thofe blifsful habitations, from all corners of the earth,
and from all conditions of human life ; from the peopled city, and
from the folitary defert ; from the cottages of the poor, and from
the palaces of kings; from the dwellings of ignorance and fimplicity,
and from the regions of fcience and improvement. They fall come ^
fays our blelTed Lord himfelf, Jrom the eaft and from the wefy from
the north and from the fouth, andfet down in the kingdom of God.*
Such difcoveries ferve both to enlarge our conceptions of the
extent of divine goodnefs, and to remove thofe fears which are
ready to arife from particular fituations in life. Were you per-
mitted to draw afide the veil, and to view that diverfified aflem-
bly of the blcffed who furround the throne, you would behold a-
mong
* Luke, xiii 29-.
44 ^'i f^^ Fappinefs
niong them nmibers who have overcome the fame difficuhies which
eiicouijrer yuu, and which you dread as infuperable. You would
behdld there, the uninftrudted, with whom an upright intention
fu;-)p]ied the pla^e of knowledge; the feeble, whom divine grace
had Itrcngrhened ; and the mifled, vihom it had brought back into
the right path. \ ou would behold the young uho had furmount-
ed the allurements of youtiiful pleafure, and the old who had borne
the diftrcfles of age with undecayed conftancy ; many whom want
could not tempt to diflioneily, many whom riches did not feduce
into pride or impiety ; many who, in the molt difficult and enfnar-
ing circu nflances, in the midft of camps and armies and corrupt-
ed courts, had preferved unfullied integrity. In a word, from a!l
k'wdreds and pfopk, that is, from all ranks of life, and all tribes af
men, even frotn among publicans and jinntrs, you would behold
thnfe whom divme alfiitance had conduded to luture glory. — And
is not the fame aflilhnce, in its full extent, offered alfo to us ? En-
compaiTed, while we run the Chrillian race, with this cloud of wit-
rtjfes who have fiiuihed their courfe with fuccefs ; animated,
unile ^^ fght the good fght, with the (liouts of thofe who have
overcome and are crov. ned, Piiall defpair enervate or dejedl our
minds? From the happy multitude above, there ifiues a voice
"which ought to found perpeaually in the ear of faith. '^ Be ye
^' faithful unto the death, and ye fliiili receive the crown of life ;
<* Be Ih'ong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ; Be fol-
*^ lowers of us who through faith and patience are nov/ inheriting
** the promifes.'' Confider,
IV, The defcription given in the text of the hnppinefs and
glory of the heavenly fociety. I'hey were beheld by the apoftle
Jianding before tke throne, and before the Lamby clothed with white
r'jbesy and palms in their hands. All that thefe palms and white
robes import, it is not given us now to underlfand. We know
thjt among all nations they have been ufed as enfigns of joy and
vic^on^; and are undoubtedly employed here to reprefent that
diflinguilhed feliuiy and honour to which human nature fliall be
then advanced. But we mult be endowed with the faculties of the
buned, in order to comprehend their employments and pleafures;
and inerefore on this part of the fubjf 61 I fliall not attempt to en-
large, 'i'he filence of humble and refpedfuj hope better becomes
us
of a future State, 45
VK than the indulgence of thofe excurfions of fancy, which degrade
the fubjedt they endeavour to exalt.
One circuniftance only cannot fail to attract particular attention ;
that the blelfed are here defcribed asf/anding he/ore the throne and
before the Lamb ; that is, enjoying the imn^ediate prefence of the
great Creator, and of the mercifal Redeemer of the world. The
unhappy diftance at which we are now removed froru God, is the
fource of all our woes. Thofe territories which we inhabit, are
not His abode. They are regions of exile. They are the dwell-
ings of a fallen race ; and are condemned to be invefted with
clouds and darknefs. Here, God llandeth dfar off. In vain we
often purfue his prefence through his works, his ways, and his re-
ligious inftitutions. He is faid to be a God that hldeth himjtlf. He
dwelleth, as to us, hi the fecret place oj thunder. He hoideth back the
face of his throne, and fpreadtth a thick cloud upon it. The manifeft-
ation of his prefence fliall be the fignal for the renovation of all
things. Wiien that ^S^wo/ righteoufnefs breaks forth from the cloud
which now conceals hitn, forrow and fni, and every evil thing, fhall
fly away before the brightnefs of his face. For neither guilt nor
niifery can remain where God dwells. As the riling of the fun
transforms at once the face of nature, and converts the whole ex-
tent of fpace, over which his beams are fpread, into a region of
light ; fo (hall the divine prefence, as foon as it is revealed, dif-
fufe univerfal blifs over all who behold it. It imports fulnefs of
joy, and pleafure for evermore. The infpired writer of- this book
thus defcribes its effects : " There Ihall be no more death, nei-
** ther forrow, nor crying, nor pain ; for the former things are
" pafled away. He that lat upon the throne faid, Behold 1 make
" all things new. They fhall hunger no more, neither third a-
<* ny more. But the Lamb which is in the midft of the throne
^' fhall feed them, and fhall lead them unto living fountains of
" water. God fhall wipe away all tears from their eyes.'' But,
defcending from this too fublime theme, let us
V. Turn our attention to a circumftance in the ftate of future
happinefs, more commenfurate to our prefent concepiiotis, which
is fuggefced by the commentary upon the words of the text given
in the fequel of the chapter. " And one of the elders anfwered,
" faying unto me, What are thefe which are arrayed in white
*^ robes ;
46 On fhe Happwefs
*^ robes; and whence came they? And I faid unto him, Sir, thoiT
** kngweft. And he laid nnto me, Thefe are they which came
"^ out of great tribulation.''* This explanatory circumftance may
relate particularly to the cafe of thofe primitive fufferers who en-
dured levtre perfccution in the caufe of the gofpel. But, in ge-
neral, it prefents this natural and beautiful view of the future fe-
J icily ot good men, that it is their reft from the troubles and toils
of life. For, to all, even to the happieft, human life is tribula-
tion and conflict. No man is thoroughly at eale in his condition.
Purfuits fucceeding to purfuits keep us in conftant agitation ; while
fiequent returns of difappoiritment break our plans, and opprels
our fpirits. — Fatigued by fuch a variety of toils, mankind have e-
ver looked forward to reft as their favourite objecl. Throughout
all their ranks, from the higheft to the loweft, they are in perpe-
tual chace of it ; and it perpetually files before them. It is an ob-
ject which here they are doomed always to leek, and never to en-
joy.
The nature and laws of our prefent ftate admit not the gratifi-
cation of this favourite widi. For, befides the necefljty of trouble
in order to fulfil the purpofes of difcipline and improvement, our
very happinefs, fuel] as it is in this world, requires a circulation of
labours. Our enjoyment conilfts in purfuit, not in attainment.
Attainment is with us, for moft p^irr, the grave of pleafure. Had
we no objecl: to excite freih activity, and to impel us to new
toils, human life would quickly ftagnaie in melancholy indolence.
At the fame time the current of all our wilhes tends to repole. I-
Mjnginary forms fioat inctfi'antly before our view, of the happinefs
which is 10 be enjoyed in reft : And from this conflict between our
uiflies on the one h.Tnd, and our acT:i>al 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 fubje<fi; of this difcourfe, which leads to the confidera-
tion of a virtue highly important to us, both as Chriftians, and as
members
^2 On Canckur.
niptnbers of fociety. I fliall endeavour, firll, to explain the tem^
per here pointed out, Iry Ihewing what this defcription of charity
imports, tliat // thinketh m evil; and then to recommend fuch a dif-
polition, and to (hfplay the bad eftetts of an oppofite turn of mind.
I. Let us confider what this defcription of charity imports.
You will eafily perceive that the exprefTion in the text is not to be
janderftood in a fenle iihogether unlimited ; as if there were no oc-
cafion on which we are to rhink unfavoursbly of others. To
view all the anions of men with the fame degree of complacency,
would be contrary both to common underftanding, and to many
expjefs precepts of religion. In a world where fomuch depravity
abounds, were we to think and fpeak equally well of all, we mull
either be infenfible of the diiVndion between rightand wrong, or be
iidiifcrenttothatdiiiinclion when we perceived it. Religion renders
it our duty to abhor that which is ei>ii ; 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<fled from a candid tern-
per. Whatever is amiable in manners, or ufeful in fociety, na-
turally and eafiiy ingrafts itfelf upon it. Gcntlenefs, humanity,
and compalTion, flow from it as their native fpring. Open and
cheerful in itfelf, it difFufes checrfnlnefs and good-humour over
all who are under its influence. It is the chief ground of mutual
confidence and union among men. It prevents thofe animofities
from arifing which are the offspring of groundlefs prejudice ; or>
by its benign interpofition, allays them when arifen. In the roa-
giftrate, it tempers juftice with lenity. Among fubje<fls it promotes
good order and fubmiffjon. It connec^-s humanity with piety. For
he who is not given to think evil of his fellow-creatures, will not
be ready to cenfure the difpenfations of his Creator, Whereas
the fame turn of mind which renders one jealous and unjuft to-
wards men, will incline him to be querulous and impious towards
God.
In the fecond place, as a fufpiclous, uncharitable fpirit is in-
confillent with all fecial virtue and happinefs, fo, in itfelf, it is
unreafonable and unjufh In order to form found opinions concern-
ing characters and actions, two things are efpecially requifite, in-
formation and impartiality. But fuch as are moft forward to
decide unfavourably, are commonly deflitute of both. Inftead
of poflefflng, or even requiring, full information, the grounds on
which they proceed are frequently the moft flight and frivolous*
A tale, perhaps, which the idle have invented, the inquifitive
have liftened to, and the credulous have propogated, or a real in-
cident which rumour, in carrying it along, has exaggerated and
Jifguifed, fupplies them with materials of confident aflertion, and
decifive judgment. From an adion they prefenlly look into th»
heart, and infer the motive. This fuppcfed motive they conclude
to be the ruling principle ; and pronounce at once concerning the
whole charadter.
Nothing can be more contrary both to equity and to found rea-*
fon, than fuch precipitate judgments. Ary man who attends to what
paifes within himfelf,may eafiiy difcern what a complicated fyftem
ihe hijmaij char?ftsr is, and what a variety of circumftances muft
be
c<) Dn Candoufi
be taken into the account, in order to cftimate it truly. No fingk
inftance of conduc'l whatever, is fufficient to determine it. A»
from one worthy action, it were credulity, not charity, to con-
clude a perfon to be free from all vice ; fo from one which iscen-
furable, it is perfed:ly unjuft to infer that the author of it is with-
out confcience and without merit. Did you know all the attend-
ing circun)ftanccs, it might appear in an excufable light ; nay,
perhaps, under a commendable form. The motives of the ador
njay have been entirely different from thofe which you afcribe to
him ; and where you fuppofe him impelled by bad defign, he may
have been prompted by confcience and miftaken principle. Ad-
mitting the action to have been in every view criminal, he may
have been hurried into it through inadvertency and furprife. He
may have fineerely repented ; and the virtuous principle may
have now regained its full vigour. Perhaps this was the corner
of frailty ; the quarter on which he lay open to the incurfions of
temptation; while the other avenues of his heart were firmly
guarded by confcience.
No error is more palpable than to look for uniformity from hu-
man nature ; though it is commonly on the fuppofition of it that
our general conclufions concerning character are formed. Man-
kind are confiltent neither in good, nor in evil. In the prefent
Hate of frailty, all is mixed and blended. The ftrongefl contra-
rieties of piety and hypocrify, of generofity and avarice, of truth
and duplicity, often meet in one character. The pureft human
virtue is coniiitent with fome vice ; and in the midft of much vice and
diforder, amiable, nay refpe6table, qualities may be found. There
are few cafes in vvhich we have ground to conclude that all good-
nefs is loll. At the bottom of the charadter there may lie fome
fparksof piety and virtue, fuppreUed, but not extinguiflied ; which,
kept alive by the breath of heaven, and gathering ftrength in fe-
crei from reficction, may, on the firft favourable opening which
is afforded them, be ready to break forth with fplendour and force.
— Placed, then, in a fiiuation of fo much uncertainty and dark-
refs, where our knowledge of the hearts and characters of men
is lb limited, and our judgments concerning them are ib apt to err,
what a continual call do we receive either to fufpend our judgment,
or to give it on the favourable fide? efpecially when we confider
that, as through imperfect information we are unqualified for de-
ciding
On CanJoUi'. ^y
tiding foundly, fo through want of impartiality wc are often tempt*
cd to decide wrong. How much this enforces the argument for
candour, will appear by confidering,
In the third place, what the fources are of thofe fevere and un-
charitable opinions which we are fo ready to form. Were the
mind altogether free from prepofleflion and bias, it might avail it*
felf to more advantage of the fcanty knowledge which it pofiefTes.
But this is fo far from being the cafe, that on every fide we are
encumbered with prejudice*, and warped by palTions, which exert
their influence in nothing more than in leading us to think evil
of others. At all times we are juftly faid io fee through a glqfs,
darkly I but paflion and prejudice, looking through a glafs which
diftorts the form of the obje6ls, make us alfo fee falfely.
It is one of the misfortunes of our prefent fituation, that fome
of the good difpofitions of human nature are apt to betray us in-
to frailties and vices. Thus it often happens, that the laudable
attachment which we contrad: to the country, or the church, to
which we belong, or to fome political denomination under which
we clafs ourfelvcs, both confines our afFedions within too narrow
a fphere, and gives rife to violent prejudices againft fuch as come
under an oppofite defcription. Not contented with being in the
right ourfelves, we muft find all others in the wrong, Weclainj
an exclufive poflefTion of goodnefs and wifdcm • and from ap-
proving warmly of thofe who join us, we proceed to condemn,
with much acrimony, not only the principles, but the characters
of thofe from whom we differ. Hence perfons of well-difpofed
minds are too often, through the flrength of partial good affec-
tion, involved in the crime of uncharitable judgment. They rafli-
\y extend to every individual the fevere opinion which they have
unwarrantably conceived of a whole body. This man is of a
party wbofe principles we reckon flavifh ; and therefore his whole
fentirqents are corrupted. That man belongs to a religious fedt
which we are accuftomed to deem bigoted ; and therefore he is-
incapable of any generous or liberal thought. Another is con-
neded with a fedl which we have been taught to account relaxed ;
and therefore he can have no fandtity, — Are thefe the judgments
of candour and charity ? Is true piety or virtue fo very limited in
Its nature, as to be confined to fuch alone as fee every thing with
H ©ui:
/)3 On Canchut\
our eyes, and follow exactly the train of our ideas? Was there c-
ver any great community fo corrupt as not to include within it in-
dividuals of real worth ?
Befides prepofllflions of this nature, which fcmetimes miflead the
honeft mind, there are other, and n.uch mere culpable caufes of
uncharitable judgment. Pride is hurt and wounded by every ex-
cellence in which it can claim no fliare ; and from eagernels to dif-
cover a blemifli, reft upon the ftightell appearance ot one, as a fa-
tisfying proof. When rivalry and competition concur with pride,
cur dfcfjre to efpy defects increafes, and, by confequence, the grounds
of cenfure n^ultiply. Where no oppofition of interefts takes place,
envy has too much influence in warping the judgment of many.
Even when none of thefe caufes operate, the inward confcioufnefs
of depravity is fufiicient to fill the nnnd with evil thoughts of o-
thers. Whence Ihculd a man fo readily draw his opinion of men
as from tliat charadcr with which he is beft acquainted, becaufe
it is his own ? A perfon of low and bafe mind naturally imputes
to others the fentiments which he finds congenial to himfelf ; and
is incredulous of every excellency which to him is totally unknown.
He enjoys, befides, confolation in the thought that others are no
better than himfelf; that his weakneUes and crimes are ihofe of
all men ; and that fuch as appear moft diftinguifned for virtue pof-
fefs no real fuperiority, except greater dexterity in concealing their
vices. Soothing themfelves with this dodrine in fecret, too many
fofter and ftrengthen the bad opinion which they entertain of all
mankind. Rarely, if ever, have you ground to think well of that
man's heart who is on every occafion given to think the worft of
others. Let us oblerve,
In the fourth place, that fuitable to the fources whence a jea-
lous and fufpicious temper proceeds, are the efi^ecls which it pro-
duces in the world^ the crimes and mifchiefs with which it fills foci-
ety. It pcflefies this unhappy diftinction beyond the other failings
of the human heart, that while if impels men to violent deeds, it
justifies to their own apprehenfion the excefies which they commit.
Amidft the uproar of other bad paffions, confcience a61s as a re-
ftraining power. As foon as the tumult fubfides, remorfe exerts
its influence, and renders tjie finner fenfible of the evil which he
has done. But the uncharitable man is unfortunately fet loofe
from
On Candow\ d-^
from any fuch check or controul. Through the infatuation of pre-
judice, his judgment is perverted ; confcience is mifled ; the light
within him is turned into ^arknefs'. Viewing the objeds of his dif-
pleafure as evil men, he thinks himfelf entitled to give that dif-
pkaftire full vent; and in committing the mod inhuman adlions,
may fometimes imagine that he is doing good fervice to God.
The firfi: fruits of an evil-thinking fpirit are calumny and ^e~
traiStion, by which fociety is fo often embroiled,, and men are fet
at variance with one another. But did it proceed no farther than
cenforious fpeech, the mifchief would be lefs. Much greater and
more ferious evils frequently enlue. What direful efFedts, for in-
flance, have often flowed from rafh and ill-founded jealoufy in pri-
vate life ? No fooner has one allowed that daemon to take poflef-
fion of his mind, than it perverts his underftanding, and taints all
his faculties. Haunting him by night and by day, bringing per-
perpetually before him the odious and difquieting forms vv'hich it
had raifed up, it blackens every appearance to his view ; gives to
trifles^ which are in themfelves light as air, the weight of full
confirmation ; till v/hat was at firft a dubious furmife, or a flight
difpleafure, riles at length into full belief and implacable fury.
Hence families torn with the moft violent convuifions ; the hulband
armed againft the wife, the father againft the fon, the friend a-
gainft the friend ; the plan of treachery and affaflination contriv^
ed, and the dagger plunged into the bofom of the innocent. — In
public life, how often have kingdoms been fliaken with all the
violence of v/ar and rebellion, from the unjuft fufpicions which
fubjeds had conceived of their rulers ; or the rafh jealoufy which
princes had entertained of their people? — But it is in religious dif-
fenfions chiefly, that the mifchievous power of uncharitable pre-
judice has difplayed its full atrocity, Relig^n is always found to
heighten every pafTion on which it ads, and to render every con-
tefl into which it enters, uncommonly ardent ; becaufe the objects
which it prefents are of fuch a nature, as ftrongly to feize and
engage the human mind. When zeal for their own principles has
prompted men to view thofe of a different perfnafion in the odious
lights which bigotry fuggefls, every fentiment of humanity has too
often been extinguiflied. The mild influence of that religion^
which breathes nothing but gentlenefs, has proved too feeble to
reftrain the violent and bloody hand of perfecution ; and the un-
charitable
70 Oft Candour.
charitable fpirit, raging among contending parties, has filled the
world with fuch calamities and crimes, as have brought difgrace
oil the Chriftian name.
Let us attend particularly to one awful inftance of the guilt
which men may contract, and of the ruin which they may bring
upon themfelves, through the want of fairnefs and candour. The
nation of the Jews were almofi noted for a narrow and unchari-
table fpirit. When John the Baptili, and our blefled Lord, ap-
peared among them, becaufe the former was auftere in his tern -
per and retired in his life, they pronounced of him that he had
an evil fpirit : and becaufe the latter was open and lociable in his man-
ners, they held him to be deditute of that fandity v^hich became
a prophet. Their prejudice againit our Lord took its firft rife from
a moft frivolous and contemptible caufe. Is not this the fon of the
carpenter r' Can any good thing come oiit of Nazareth P \V hen his mi-
racles repelled this reproach, and fufficiently proved the eminence
of his character, ftill they foftered their prejudices by this moft fu-
tile reaioning, Haiw any of the rulers believed on him P Obftinate in
their attachment to a temporal Meffiah, and continuing to view-
all our Saviour's conduct with an evil eye, when he converfed
■with bad men, in order to reclaim them, they treated him as a
companion of puhlicans and finners. Becaufe he difallowed their
groundlefs traditions, they held him to be a breaker of the Sab-
bath, and a contemner of religion. Becaufe he prophefied the
dcftruftion of their temple, they accufed him of being an enemy
to his own nation. Till at laft, through their perpetual mifcon-
flruclion of his actions, their paflions became fo inflamed as to make
them cry out witli one voice, Away -mth this man to the death, and
give us Barabbai the robber, — Viewing in this dreadful event the
confequences of want of candour, let every man tremble to think
evil raflily of his brother. No one can tell how far uncharitable
prejudices may carry him in guilt, if he allow them to harbour
and gather ftrcngth within his breaft. The cloud which rofe
from the fed, no bigger thanaman^s handy may loon fwelland fpread,
till it cover the whole horizon, and difcharge with moft deftruc*
live violence the gathered ftorm.
In the fifth place, as a fufpicious fpirit is the fource of fo many
crimes and calamities in the v.orld^ fo it is the fpring of certain
mifery
On Candour, 7 1
tnifery to the perfon who indulges it. His friends will be few ;
and fmall will be his comfort in thofe whom he poflelTes. Believ-
ing others to be his enemies, he will of courfe make them fuch.
Let his caution be ever fo great, the afperity of his thoughts will
often break out in his behaviour; and in return for fufpe6ting and
hating, he will incur fufpicion and hatred. Befides the exter-
nal evils which he draws upon himfelf, arifing from alienated
friendfhip, broken confidence, and open enmity ; the fufpicious
temper itfelf is one of the worfl evils which any man can fulFer.
If in all fear there be torment, how miferable rauft be his (late who,
by living in perpetual jealoufy, lives in perpetual dread ? Looking
upon himfelf to be furrounded with fpies, enemies, and defigning
men, he is a ftranger to reliance and truft. He know s not to whom
to open himfelf. He drefles his countenance in forced fmile.*^, while
his heart throbs within from apprehenfions of fecret treachery.
Hence fretfulnefs and ill-humour, difguft at the world, and all the
painful fenfations of an irritated and embittered mind.
So numerous and great are the evils arillng from a fufpicious dif-
pofition, that of the two extremes it is more eligible to expofe our-
felves to occafional difad^^antage from thinking too well of others,
than to fufFer continual mifery by thinking always ill of them. It
is better to be fometimes impofed upon, than never totruft. Safe-
ty is purchafed at too dear a rate, when, in order to fecure it, we
are obliged to be always clad in armour, and to live in perpetual
hoftility with our fellows. This is, for the fake of living, to de-
prive ourfelves of the comfort of life. The man of candour en-
joys his fituation, whatever it is, with cheerfulnefs and peace.
Prudence directs his intercourfe with the world ; but no black fuf-
picions haunt his hours of reft. Accuftomed to view the charac-
ters ot his neighbours in the moft favourable light, he is like one
who dwells amidft thofe beautiful fcenes of nature, on which the
eye refts with pleafure. Whereas the fufpicious man, having his
imagination filled with all the (hocking forms of human falfehood,
deceit, and treachery, refembles the traveller in the wildernefs,
who difcer.is no objects around him but what are either dreary or
terrible ; caverns that open, ferpents that hifs, and beafts of prey
that howl. Hence in him are veriiaed thofe defcriptions which
the Spirit of God has given us of the mifsry of the wicked. They
Jhall have no peace. They fJmll be like the troubled fea, when it can-
not
7^ On Candour.
not refi. The Lordfi^all give them a irenibliyig heart, and failing of
eycsy and Jorro'jj of mind : And they J): all fear day and nighty and
have none aj/urance cf heart. — I add,
In the fixth and laft place, that there is nothing which expofes
men in a more marked and direvSi: manner to the difpleafure of the
Almighty, than a malignant and ccnforious fpirit. I infift not
now on the general denunciations of divine wrath againft njalice
and hatred. Let us only confider under what particular defcrip-
tion the Spirit of God brings this crime of uncharitable judgment.
It is declared to be an impious invafion of the prerogative of God^
to whom alone it belongs to fearch all hearts, and to determine
concerning all characters. This privilege He often appropriates
cxprefsly to himfelf, on purpofe to redraia the rafhnefs of cen-
fure among men ; requiring us to leave the judging of others to
Him, and to attend to our own bufinefs and duty. IVho art thou
that judge/} another man' s fervant P To his own mafier, hejiandeth
or falkth. "judge nothing before the time ; until the Lord corns, who
fnall make m.anifefi the counfels of the heart, "^ ^
It deCerves our mod ferious attention, that, in feveral pafiages
of Scripture, the great Judge cf the world is reprefented, at the
day of final retribution, as proceeding upon this principle, of ren-
dering to men according to the manner in which they have
afted towards their brethren. JVith the merciful, thou wilt Jho\\>
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 unexpe<fled ends by the moft impro-
bable means ; obliging the -wrath of man to praife him ; fometimcj
humbling the mighty, fometimes exalting the low ; often fnaring
the wicked in the dojices which their hands have wrought, Refpedful
acknowledgment of this divine government, controuls the difor-
ders of inferiour paffions. Reverence for the decrees of Heaven
infpires patience and moderation. Truft in that perfect wifdom
and goodnefs which dire(^s all for the beft, diminiflies the fliock
which
^ Jofiph. $5
which worldly difafters occafion. The irritation of pafTion and
refentment will always bear proportion to the agitation which we
fufFer from the changes of fortune. One who conneds himfelf
with nothing but fecond caufes, partakes of the violence and irre-
gularity of all the inferiour movements belonging to this great
machine. He who refers all to God, dwells, if we may fpeak fo,
in that higher fphere where motion begins; he is fubjed to fewer
Ihocks and concuiTions, and is only carried along by the motion of
the univerfe.
How can mildnefs or forgivenefs gain place in the temper of
that man, who, on occafion of every calamity which he fuffers
from the ill ufuage of others, has no fanftuary within his own
breafl to which he can make retreat from their vexations; who
is poflefled of no principle which is of fufficient power to bear down
the rifing tide of peevifh and angry pafTions? The violence of an
£nemy, or the ingratitude of a friend, the injuftice of one man,
and the treachery of another, perpetually dwell and rankle in his
thoughts. The part which they have afted in bringing on his
diftrefs, is frequently more grating to him than the diftrefs itfelf.
Whereas he who in every event looks up to God, has always in
his view a great and elevating obj^d which infpires him with mag-
nanimity. His mind lies open to every relieving thought, and is
inclined to every fuggeflion of generofity. He is difpofed to fay
with Jofeph, it was not you thatfent me hither y kutCod; with Da-
vid, it is the Lord; let him do what Jeemeth good in his eyes; and
v/ith a greater Perfonage than either of thefe, the eup which my
Father hath given me to drink , Jhali I not drink it? Hence arifes fu-
periority to many of the ordinary provocations of the world. For
he looks upon the whole of his prefent life as part of a great plan
which is carried on under tlie diredlion of Heaven. In this plan,
he views men as ailing their feveral parts, and contributing to his
good or evil. But their parts he confiders as fubordinate ones;
which, though they may juftly merit his affection, and may occa-
(ionally call forth his refentment, yet afford no proper foundation
to violent or malignant palTion. He looks upon bad men as only
the rod with which the Almighty chaftens ; like the peftilence, the
earthquake, or the ftorm. In the midlt of their injulhce and vi-
olence he can pity their blindnefs ; and imitate our blefled Lord
in praying, Fat her ^ forgiue them-, for they knoiu not what they do.
C S6 ]
SERMON XXVII.
On the Character of Hazael.
2 Kings, viii. 12, 13.
Jnd Hazael f aid f Why iveepeft my LordP And he dnfivered, Be-
cauje I know the evil thai thou wilt do unto the children of IfraeL
Their Jlrong holds wilt thou fet on fire, and thdr young men wilt
thoujlay ivith the fword, and wilt dafli their children^ and rip up
their women with child. And Hazael f aid, But what, is thyfer-
vant a dog, that he JIjouUI do this great thing? And Elifnaan/wer-
ed, the Lord hath fnewed me that thoujludt be kirg ever Syria.
IN the days of Jora m king of Ifrael flouriflied the prophet Eliflia.
His character was fo eminent, and his fame fo widely fpread,
that Benhadad thekiiig of Syria, through an idolater, fent to con-
I'ult him concerning the iffus of a diftemper which threatened
his life. The meiTenger employed on this occafion was Hazael,
who appears to have been one of the princes, or chief men of the
Syrian court. Charged with rich gifts from the king, he prefects
himfelf before tlie prophet ; and accofls him in terms of the
higheft refpefl. During the conference which they held together,
Eliilia fixed his eye ftedfaflly on the countenance of Hazael ; and
diicerning, by a prophetic fpirit, his future tyranny and cruelty, he
could not contain himfelf from burning into a flood of tears. When
Hazael, in furpi-ife, inquired into the caufe of thisfudden emotion,
the prophet plainly informs him of the crimes and barbarities
which he forefaw that hereafter he fliould commit. The foul of
Hazael abhorred, at this time, the thoughts o'i cruelty. Uncor-
rupted, as yet, by ambition or greatnefs, his indignation arofeat
being thought capable of fuch favnge adlions as the prophet had
mentioned ; and, with much warmth, he replies, But what, is thy
fervant a dog, that he JJrjuld do this great thing ? EliOia makes no
return
On the CharaSfer of Hazael. 87
return but to point out a remirkable chanj^e which was to lake
place in his condition ; The Lord hath /hewed me that thou Jhalt he
king over Syria. In coarfe of time, all that had been predicted
came to pafs. Hazael afcended the throne ; and ambition took
polTefTion of his heart. He fmote the children of Ifrael in all their
coajis. He opprejfed them during all the reign of King Jehoahaz;*
and, from what is left on record of his actions, plainly appears to
have proved what the prophet fore fa vv him to be, a man of vio-
lence, cruelty and blood.
In this pail age of hiitory, an obje£l is prefented which deferves
our ferious attention. We behold a man who, in one ftate of
life, could not look upon certain criaies without furprife and hor-
rour ; who knew fo little of himfelf, as to believe it impolTible for
him ever to be concerned in committing them ; that fame man,
by a change of condition, transformed in all his fentiments, and
as he rofe in greatnpfs rifing alfo in guilt ; till at laft he complet-
ed that whole character of iniquity which he once detefled. Hence
the following obfervations naturally arife. I. That to a mind
not entirely corrrupted, fentiments of abhorrence at guilt are na-
tural. II. That, notwithftanding thofe fentiments, the mind
may be brought under the dominion of- the vices which it had moft
abhorred. III. That this unhappy revolution is frequently owing
to a chano-e of men's external circumftances and condition in the
world. Thefe obfervations are to make the fubjefl of thf prefent
dilcourfe ; and will lead us to fuch a view of human nature, as, it
is hoped, may be of general ufe.
I, Sentiments of abhorrence at guilt are natural to the hu-
man mind, Hazael's reply to the Prophet fliews how ftrongly he
felt them. Is thy fervant a dog^ that he Jhould do this great thing P
Is he, or can he ever be, fo bafe and wretched as to perpetrate
crimes which would render him unworthy of bearing the name of
a man ? This is the voice of hur.-nan nature, while it is not as yet
hardened in iniquity. Some vices are indeed more odious to the
mind than others. Providence has wifely pointed the (harpeft
edge of this natural averfion againft the crimes which are of moft
pernicious and deltrudtive nature ; fuch as treachery, oppreflion,
and
* 2 King^f xiii. 22. *
•S8 Oil the Chameier
and cruelty. But, in general, the diftindion between moral good
and evil is fo (Irongly marked, as to flamp almoft every vice with
the chara<Sl:er of lurpiiiide. Prelent to any man, even the mofl:
ir^norant and untutored, an obvious inftance of injnftice, falfe-
!iood,or knpiety ; let him view it in a cool moment, when no paf-
Tion blinds, and no intere(t warps him ; and you will find that
liis mind immediately revolts againft: it, as fhameful and bafe, nay,
as deferving puniflmient. Hence, in reafoning on the characters
of others, however men may midake ;is to facts, yet they general-
ly praife and blame according to the principles of found morality.
With refpecl to their own charader, a notorious partiality too
generally mifleads their judgment. But it is remarkable, that no
ilnner ever avows direftly to hiinfelf, that he has been guilty of
grofs and downright iniquity. Even when engaged by his pafii-
ons io the commifllon of the greateft crimes, he always palliates
them to his own mind by fome extenuation or apology, fome pre-
tended neceiTityjOi'fome borrowed colour of innocence. Such pow-
erthe undeniable dignity of virtu?,and the acknowledged turpirude
of vice, pclTei's over every human heart. 1 hefe fentiments are
the remaining inspreflions of that law, which was originally writ,
ten on the mind of man. They are gleams of that light which
once flione clear and ftrong within us ; and which, though it be
now greatly obfcured, yet continues to flioot a feeble ray athwart
the darknefs of human nature. — But whatever fentiments of ab-
horrence at vice we may at any time entertain, we have no rea-
fon to build upon thefe a prefumptuous conh'dence of our conti-
nuance in virtue. For the next inftruclton which the text fug-
gefts, if,
II. That fuch is man^s ignorance of his own character, fuch the
frailty of his nature, that he may one day become infamous for
thofe very crimes which at prefent he holds in deteftation. This
obfervation is too well verified by the hiitory of Hazael ; and a
thoufand other inllances might be brought to confirm it. Though
there is nothing which every perfon ought to know fo thoroughly
as his own heart, yet from the conduct of men it appears, that there
is nothing with which they are lefs acquainted. Always more
prone to fhtter themfelves, than defirous to difcover the truth,
they
of JazacL 8t?
fhcy trufi to their being poirefTed of every virtue which has noc
been put to the trial; and reckon themlelves fecure againft every
vice to which they have not hitherto been tempted. As long aa
their duty hangs in fpeculation, it appears fo plain, and lb eligible,
that they cannot doubt of performing it. The fufpic ion never enter*
their mind, that in the hour of fpeculation, and in the hour of prac-
tice, their fentiments may differ %»idely. Their prefent difpofi-
tion they eafily perfuade thenifelves will ever continue the fame;
and yet that difpofiiion is changing with circumftanccs every mo-
ment.
The man who glows with the warm feelings of devotion, ima-
gines it impoiTible for him to loofe that fenfe of the divine good-
nefs which at prefent melts his heart. He whom his friend ha^
lately faved from ruin, is confident that, if fome trying immcrgency
fliall put his gratitude to proof, he will rather die than abandon
his benefa^ior. He who lives happy and contented in frugal in^
duftry, wonders how any man can give himfelf up to difiblutc
pleafure. Were any of thofe perfons informed by a fuperior
fpirit that the time was fliortly to come when the one fhculd prove
an example 6f fcandalous impiety, the other of treachery to his
friend, and the third of- all that extravagant luxury which difgrac-
6s a growing fortune j each of them would teltify as much fur-
prife and abhorrence as Hazae! did, upon hearing the predictions
of the prophet. Sincere they might very pofhbly be in their ex-
prelTions of indignation ; for hypocrify is not always to be charg-
ed on men whofe conduct is incunfiiient. Hazael was in earned,
when he refented with fuch ardour the imputation of cruelty. The
Apof^le Peter was fincere when he made the zealous profefTion^
that though he (hould go to prifon and to death with his matter^
he would never deny him. They were fincere; that is, they
fpoke from the fulnefs of their hearts and from the warmth of the
prefent moment ; but they did not know themfelves, as the events
which followed plainly fliowed. So falfe to its principles, too frc^
quently, is the heart of man ; fo weak is the foundation of human
virtue ; fo much reafon there is for what the gofpel perpetually
inculcates concerning the neceflity of diftrufting ourfelves, and
depending on divine aid. Mortifying, I confefs, is this view of
human nature ; yet proper to be attended to by all, in order to
elcapc
^o On the Charader
efcape the moO: fatal dangers. For, merely through unguarded
conduct, and from the want of this prudent fufpicion of their own
weaknefs, how many, after the luoft promifmg beginnings, have
gradually apoftatized from every principle of virtue : until, at laft,
it has become as difficult for one to believe, that thty ever had a-
iiy love of gcodnefs, as it would have been once to haveperfuad-
ed themfelves that they were to advauce to luch a height in
wicked nefs ?
In fnch cafes as I have defcribed, what has become, it may be
enquired, of thofe fentiments of abhorrence at guilt which were
once felt fo ftrongly ? Are they totally erafed \ or, if in any de-
gree they remain, how do fuch perfons contrive to fatisfy them-
felves in adinga part which their minds condemn ? — Here, there
is a myftery of iniquity which requires to be unfolded. Latent and
fecret is the progrefs of corruption within the foul ; and the mere
latent, the njore dangerous is its growth. No man becomes of a
fudden conipletely wicked. Guilt never fhows its whole deformi-
ty at once ; but by gradual acquaintance reconciles us to its appear-
ance, and imperceptibly difilifes its poifon through all the powers
of the mind. Every man has fome darling paflion, which gene-
rally affords the firft inirodudion to vice. The irregular grati-
fications into which it occafionally feduces him, appear under the
form of venial weaknefies ; and are indulged in the beginning,
with fcrupuloufnefs and referve. But, by longer pra6tice, thefe
reftraints weaken, and the power of habit grows. One vice
brings in another to its aid. By a fort of natural affinity they
conned and entwine themfelves together ; till their roots come to
be fpread wide and deep over all the foul. When guilt rifes to
be glaring, confcience endeavours to remonflrate. But confcience
is a calm principle. Paffion is loud and impetuous; and creates a
tumult which drowns the voice of reaibn. It joins, belides, arti-
fice to violence ; and feduces at the fame time that it impels. For
it employs the underftanding to impofe upon the confcience. It
devifes reafons and arguments to juftify the corruptions of the
heart. The common pradice of the world is appealed to. Nice
diflinctions are n:ade. NIcn are found tobe circumflanced in fo pe-
culiar a manner, as to render certain anions cxcufable, if not
blanieiefs,
o/ llazach 91
blamelcTs, which, in another fituation, it is conftfieJ, would
have been criminal. By fuch a proccfs as this, ihcre isreafonto
believe, that a great part cf mankind advance troni (tep to f!:ep
in (in, partly hurried by padion, ar.d pardy blinded by felf.deceit,
without anyjnft- fenfe oi" the degree of guilt which they contract.
By inveterate habits, their judgment is, at length, perverted,
and their moral feelings are deadened. They fee now with odier
eyes ; and can look without pain on evil actions which they for-
merly abhorred.
It is proper, however, to obferve, that though cur native
fentiments of abhorrence at guilt may be fo borne down, or fo
eluded, as to lofe their influence on conduct, yetth©fe fentiments
belonging originally to our frame, and being never totally eradi-
cated from the foul, will flill retain fo much authority, as if noc
to reform, at leaft, on fome occafions, to chaften thefinncr. It
is only during a ccurfe of profperity, that vice is able to carry on
its dulufions without difturbance. But amidfl the dark and
thoughtful fituations of life, confcicnce regains its rights; and
pours the whole bittcrnefs of remorfe on his heart, who has apofta-
tized from his original principles. We may well believe that, be-
fore the end of his days, HazaePs fird imprellions wculd be made
to return. In the hour of adverfity, the remembrance of his
conference with the venerable Prophet would fting his heart.
Comparing the fentiments which, in thofe his bitter days, he felt
with the atrocious cruelties which he had afterwards committed,
all the honours of royalty would be unable to fave him from the in-
ward fenfe of bafenefs and infamy.
From this view which has been exhibited of the prcgrefs of
corruption, and of the danger to which we are expofed, of fall-
ing from principles which once appeared firmly ellablilhed, let us
receive ufeful admonition for our own conduci:. Ld not him th^J
glrdeth on his harnefs^ hoajl like him that putteth it off. Let no mar^
place a rafli and dangerous confidence in his virtue. But let kim
that thinkcth he ftandcih, take he^.d left he fall. Never adventure
on too near an approach to what is evil. Familiarize not your-
felves v/uh it, in the fi'iglitcfl: inftances, without fear. Lillen
with reverence to ^'>fzr^ 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
</ Hazaet. ^^
€ircumftances that appeared at firft moft unpromifirrg and adverfe,
often brings forth in the iiTue both temporal and Ipiritual felicity.
H'''ho knoweth what is good or a man in this life, all the day j of his vain
life, which he fpendeib as a Jhadow ? When we confider the dark-
nefs of our prelent flate, the imbecility of human nature, and rhe
doubtful and ambiguous value of all that we call profperity, the
exhortation of the Plalmift comes home with great force on every
reflecting mind, Commit thy way unto the Lord* Forjn thy mea»
lures with prudence; but divert thyfelf of anxiety about the ifTue.
Inftead of feeking to order thine own lot, acquiefce in the ap-
pointment of Heaven, and follow without hefitation the call of
Providence, and of duty. In whatever fituation of life God fhall
place thee, look up devoutly to him for grace and afTiftance ;
and ftudy to a6l the part afligned.thee with a faithful and upright
heart. Thus (halt thou have peacewithin thyfelf, while thy
courfe is going on ; and when it draws towards a clofe, with
fatisfadtion thou flialt review thy conduft. For, after all the
toils and labours of life, and all the vain ftruggles which we main-
tain for pre-eminence and diftindtion, we Ihall find, at the conclu-
fion of the whole fcene, that to fear Ced and keep his command'
ments is the whole of man.
M SERMON
* Pfalm xxxvii, 5.
SERMON XXVni,
On the Benefits to be derived from the
House of Mourning.
ECCLESIASTES, vii. 2, 3, 4.
7/ is better to go to the houfe of mournlngy than to go to the houfe of
jeajiing ; for that is the end of all 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 better. The heart of the wife
is in the houfe of mourning ; but the heart of fools is in the houfe of
mirth,
MANY of the maxims contained in this book of EGclefiaftes
will appear ftrange fayings to the men of the world. But
when they refled on the chsracler of him who delivers them,
they cannot but admit that his tenets deferve aferiousand attentive
examination. For they are not the doclrines of a pedant, ^Aho, from
an obfcure retirement, declaims againft pleafures which he never
knew. They are not the invedives of a difappointed man, who
takes revenge upon the world, by fatirifmg thofe enjoyments
which he fought in vain to obtain. They are the conclufions of
a great and profperous prince, who had once given full fcope to
his defires ; who was thoroughly acquainted with life in its mod
flattering fcenes ; and who now, reviewing all that he had en-
joyed, delivers to us the refult of long experience, and tried wif.
dom. None of his principles feem, at firfl: view, more dubious
and exceptionable than thofe which the text prefents. To affert
that forrow is preferable to mirth, and the houfe of mourning to
the houfe of feafting ; to advife men to chufe mortification and
fadnefs when it is in their power to indulge in joy, may appear
harfh and unrcafon^ble doctrines. They may, perhaps, be ac-
counted
On the Benefits, &:c, loi
counted enemies to the innocent enjoyment of life who give
countenance to fo fevere a fyftem, and thereby increafethe glooai
which already fits fufficiently heavy on the condition of man.
But let this cenfure be fufpended, until wc examine with care
into the fpirit and meaning of the fentiments here delivered.
It is evident that the wife man does not prefer forrow, upon its
own account, to mirth; orreprefent fadnefs as a ftate more eligi-
ble than joy. He confiders it in the light oi difcipline only. He
views it with reference to an end. He compares it wuh certain
improvements which he fuppofes it to produce ; when the heart
is made better by the fadnefs of the countenance, and the living to lay
to heart what is the end of all men. Now, if great and lafting be-
nefits are found to refult from occafional fadnefs, thefe, fure,
may be capable of giving it the preference to fome fleeting fenfa-
tions of joy. The means which he recommends in order to our
obtaining thofe benefits^ are to be explained according to the
principles of found reafon ; and to be underftood with thofe limi-
tations which the eaftern ftyle, in delivering moral precepts, fre-
quently requires. He bids us go to the houfe of mourning ; but he
does not command us to dwell there. When he prefers forrow
to laughter, he is not to be underftood as prohibiting all mirth ; as
requiring us to wear a perpetual cloud on our brow, and to fe-
queftrate ourfelves from every cheerful entertainment of fecial
life. Such an interpretation would be inconfiftent with many
other exhortations in his own writings, which recommend tempe-
rate and innocent joy. It would not fuit with the proper dif-
charge of the duties which belong to us as members of fociety ;
and would be moft oppofite to the good nefs and benignity of our
Creator. The true fcope of his dodrine in this pafTage is, that
there is a certain temper and ftate of heart, which is of far
greater confequence to real happinefs, than the habitual indulgence
of giddy and thoughtlefs mirth ; that for the attainment and cul-
tivation of this temper, frequent returns of grave refledtion are
neceflary ; that upon this account, it is profitable to give admiifion
to thofe views of human diftrefs which tend to awaken fuch re-
flexion in the mind ; and that thus, from the viciflTitudes of for-
row, which we either experience in our own lot, or fympathife
with in the lot of others, much wifdom and improvement may be
derived.
102 On the Benefits to be derived
derived. Tbefe are the fentiments which I purpofe at prefent to
juflify and recommend, as mod fuitable to the chara^er of men
and ofChriftians ; and not in the leaft inconiiftent with pleafure,
rightly underftood.
Among the variety of difpofitions which are to be found in the
vorld, fome indeed require lefs of this difcipline than others.
There are perfons whofe tender and dehcate fenfibility, either de-
rived from nature, or brought on by repeated afflictions, renders
them too deeply fufceptible of every mournful imprefiion ; whofe
fpirirs ftsnd more in need of being fupported and cheered, than
Oi being faddened by the dark views of human life. In fuch
cafes we are commanded to lift up the hands ivhich hang down, ci7id
to confirm the feeble knees.* But this is far from being the com-
mon difpofiiion of men. Their minds are in general inclined to
levity, much more than to thoughtful melancholy ; and their
he.irts more apt to be contracted and hardened, than to relent with
too much facility. I fhall therefore endeavour to fhew them,
vhat bad inclinations their compliance with Solomon's advice
would correct; what good difpofitions with refped to God, their
neighbours, and themfelves, it would improve ; and how, upon
the whole, his doctrine is verified, that by the fadnefs of the counte-
nance the heart is made better,
I BF.GIN by obferving, that the temper recommended in the
text fuits the prelent conftitution of things in this world. Had
man been deftined for a courfe of undifturbed enjoyment, perpe-
tual gaiety would then have correfponded to his ftate , and pen-
fiv^ tnought have been an unnatural intrufion. But in a ftate
where all is chequered and mixed, where there is no profperity
without a reverfe, and no joy without its attending griefs ; where
from the houfe of feifting all muft, at one time or other, pafs
into the houfe of mourning, it would be equally unnatural if no
admiffion were given to grave reflection. The mind of man
muft be attempered to his condition. Providence, whofe
wildom is confpicuous in all its works, has adjufted with exaCt
proportion the inward powers to the outward ftate of every
rational being. It has for this purpofe implanted the ferious
and
* JJaiahy xxxv. 3. Heb. xii. 12.
from the Houfe of Mourning. toy'
and fympathetic feelings in our nature, that they might corrcf-
pond with the vicilhtudes of forrow in our lot. He who en-
deavours to repel their influence, or toftifle them in unieafonable
mirth, adsa violent and unnatural part. He ftrives with vain effort
againft the current of things ; contradids the intentions of his
Maker, and counterads the origmal impulfes of his own heart.
It is proper alfo to obferve, that as the fadnefs of the counte-
nance has, in our prefent fituation, a proper and natural place ;
fo it is requifite to the true enjoyment of pleafure. Worldly and
fenfual men often remark not till it be too late, that, by the
ftudied efforts of conftant repetition, all their pleafures fail.
They draw them off fo clofe to the dregs, that they become infi-
pid and naufeous. Hence even In laughter their heart is forrowfJ,
and the end of their mirth is heavinefs.* It is only the interpofal
of ferious and thoughtful hours, that can give any lively fenfation
to the returns of joy. I fpeak not of thofe thoughtful hours,
too well known to (inners, which proceed from guilty remorfe ;
and which, inftead of preparing for tuuure pleafure, damp and
ficken the moment of enjoyment ; but of thofe which take rife
from the mind retreating into itfelf, and opening to the fenti-
ments ot religion ^nd humanity. Such hours of virtuous fadnefs
brighten the gleams of fucceeding joy. They give, to the tem-
perate enjoyments of the pious and humane, a refined and deli-
cate rehfli, to which the hardened and infenfible are entire
Grangers, For it will be found, that in proportion as the tender
affedions of the foul are kept awake, how much foever they may
fometimes diftrefs the heart, they preferve it open likewife to the
moft agreeable fenfations. He who never knew the forrows of
friendfliip, never alfo knew its joys. He whofe heart cannot
relent in the houfe of mourning, will, in the moft focial hour of
the houfe of feafting, partake of no more than the loweft part
of animal pleafure. Having premifed thefc obfervations, I
proceed to point out the dired effeds of a proper attention to the
diftreffes of life upon our moral and religious charader.
Int the firft place, the houfe of mourning is calculated to give
a proper check to our natural though tlellnefs and levity. The
indolence
* Prov. xiv. 13.
I04 On the Benefits to he derived
indolence of mankind, and their love of pkafiire, Ipread tlirough
all charadlers ap.d ranks foiDe degree of averfion to what is grave
and ferious. They grafp at any object, either of bufinefs or
amufemerjt, wliich makes the prefent moment pafs fmoothly a-
way ; which carries their tlioughts abroad, and faves them from
the trouble of refiedling on theiiifelves. With two many, this
pafles into a habit of conftant diflipation. If their fortune and
rank allow them to indulge their inclinations, they devote them-
ielves to the puriuit of amufement through all its different forms.
Thefkilful arrangement of its fuccelTive fcenes, and the preparato-
ry ftudy for fhining in each, are the only exertions on which
their underftandii;g is employed. Such a mode of life may keep
alive, for a while, a frivolous vivacity. It may improve men in
forae of thofe exteriour accon)plifJiments, which fparkle in the
eyes of the giddy and the vain ; but it muft link them in the
efteeiTi of all rhe wife. It renders them Grangers to themfelves ;
and ufclefs, if not pernicious, to the world. They lofe every
manly principle. Their minds become relaxed and effeminate.
All that is great or refpf^^able in the human charader is buried
under a mafs of trifles and follies.
If fome mealbresouglu robe taken for refcuing the mind from
this difgraceful levity ; if fome principles muft be acquired,
which may gi\'e more dignity and (leadinefs to cojiduft ; where,
I pray you, are thefe to be looked for ? Not furely in the houfe
of feafting, where every objecl flatters the fenfes, and ftrength-
ens the feduclions to which we are already prone ; where the
fpirit of dilTipation circulates from heart to heart; and the children
of folly n»utuaily admire and are admired. It is in the foberand feri-
ous houfe of mourning that the tide of vanity is made to turn, and
a new diredlion given to the current of thought. When fome
affcdling incident prefcnts a flrong difcovery of the deceitful nefs
of all worldly joy, and roufes our fenfibiliry to human woe ;
when we behold thofe with whom we had lately mingled in the
houfe of feafting, funk by fome of the fudden viciifitudes of life
into the vale of mifery ; or when, in 'i-^d iilence, we fland by
the friend whom we loved as our own foul, flretched on the bed
of death ; then is the feafon when the world begins to appear in a
new light ; when the heart opens to virtuous feiuiments, and i:i
led
from the Hovfe of Mounung. 105
led into that train of refleflion which ought to direct life. He
who before knew not what It was to commune with his heart on
any ferious fubjeifl, now puts the queftion to himfelf, for what
purpofe he was fent forth into this mortal, tranfitory ftate ;
what his fate is likely to be when it concludes ; and what jadg.
ment he ought to form of thofe pleafures which amufe for a lit-
tie, but which, he now fees, cannot fave the heart from anguidi
in the evil day ? Touched by the hand of thoughtful melancholy,
that airy edifice of blifs, which fancy had raifed up for him, vanifli-
es away. He beholds, in the place of it, the lonely and barren
defert, in which, furrounded with many a difagreeable objed:, he
is left muting upon himfelf. The time v^hich he has mif-fpent,
and the faculties which he has mifemployed, his foolifh levity and
his criminal purfuits, all rife in painful profped before him.
That unknown ftate of exiftence into which, race after race, the
children of men pafs, ftrikes his mind withfolemn awe. Is
there no courfe by which he can retrieve his pad errours ? Is
there no fuperiour power to which he can look up for aid ? Is
there no plan of condudl which, if it exempt him not from for-
row, can at lead procure him conlblation aniidft the diftrefsful ex-
igencies of life ? Such meditations as thefe, fuggefted by the
houfe of mourning.^ frequently produce a change on the whole
character. They revive thofe fparks of goodnefs which were
nigh being quite exiinguifhed in the diillpated mind ; and give
rife to principles of conduct more rational in themfelves, and
more fuitable to the human ftatc.
In the fecond place, impreffions of this nature not only produce
moral ferioufnefs, but awaken fentiments of piety, and bring men
into the fan^tuary of religion. One might, indeed, imagine that
the blefhngs of a profperous condition w ould prove the moft natu-
ral incitements to devotion ; and that when men were happy in
themfelves, and faw nothing but happinefs around them, they
could not fail gratefully to acknowledge that God who giveth the??t
all things richly to enjoy. Yet fuch is their corruption, that they
arc never more ready to forget their benefador, than when load-
ed with his benefits. The giver is concealed from theircarelefs
and inattentive view, by the cloud of his own gifts. When their
life
io6 On the Benefits to be derived
life continues to flow in one fmooth current unruffled by any
griefs ; when they neither receive in their own circumftances, nor
allow themfelves to receive from the circumftances of others, any
admonitions of human liability, they not only become reganilefs
of Providence, but are in hazard of contemning it. Glory in
their Ifrength, and lifted up by the pride of life into fuppofed in-
dependence, that impious fentiment, if not uttered by the mouth,
yet too often lurks in the hearts of many, during their flourifhing
periods, What is the Almighty that we Jl^ould ferve him, and in hat
profit fioould -we have if we pray unto him P
If fuch be the tendency of the houfe of feafting, how neceflary
is it, that, by fome change in their fituation, men fliould be oblig-
ed to enter into the houfe of mourning, in order to recover a
proper fenfe of their ciependcnt ftate ? It is there, when forfaken
by the gaieties of the world, and left alone with God, that we
are made to perceive how awful his government is ; how eafily
human greatnefs bends before him ; and how quickly all our de*
fignsand meafures, at his interpofal, vaniih into nothing. There,
when the countenance is fad, and the affections are foftened by
grief; when we fit apart, involved in ferious thought, looking
down as from fome eminence on thofe dark clouds that hang over
the life of man, the arrogajfice of profperity is humbled, and the
heart melts under the impreffions of religion. Formerly we were
taught, but now we fee^ we feel, how much we ftand in need
of an Almighty Protector, amidft the changes of this vain world.
Our foul cleaves to him who defpifes noty nor abhors the affli^ion
of the affli^ed. Prayer flows forth of its own accord from the
relenting heart, that he may be our God, and the God of our
friends in diflrefs; that he may never forfake ui while we are fo«
journing in this land of pilgrimage ; may ftrengthen us under its
calamities, and bring us hereafter to thofe habitations of reft,
where we, and they whom we love, may be delivered from the
. trials which all are now doomed to endure. The difcoveries of
his mercy, which he has made in the Gofpel of Chrift, are viewed
with joy, as fo many rays of light fent down from above to dif-
pel, in fome degree, the furrounding gloom. A Mediator and
Interceflbr with the Sovereign of the univerfe, appear comforta-
ble names, and the refurredion of the juft becomes the powerful
cordial
from the Houfe of IMournhig. loy
cordial of gi ief. In fuch moments as thefe, which we may juft-
ly call happy mopients, the foul participates of all thepleafures of
devotion* It feels the power of religion to fupport and relieve.
It is foftened, vvithwut being broken. It is full, and it pours it-
felf forth ; pours itfelf fourth, if we may be allowed to ufe the
exprefTion, into the bofom of its merciful Creator.
In the third place, fuch ferious fentiments produce the happieft
effed upon our difpofition towards our fellow-creatures, as
well as towards God, It is a common and juft obfervation, that
they who have lived always in affluence and eafe, ftrangers to the
miferies of life, are liable to contrad: hardnefs of heart with re-
fped to all the concerns of others. Wrapped up in themfelves,
and their own pleafures, they behold with indifference the mod
afFecling fcencs of diftrefs. Habituated to indulge all their defires
without controul, they become impatient of the leaft provocation
or offence ; and are ready to trample on their inferiours, as if they
were creatures of a different fpecies from themfelves. Is this an
amiable temper, or fuch as becomes a man ? When appearing in
others, do we not view it with much difpleafure ? When imputed
to ourfelves, can we avoid accounting it a fevere reproach?
By the experience of diftrefs, this arrogant infenfibility of tem-
per is mod effedually corredled ; as the remembrance of our own
fufferings naturally prompts us to feel for others when they fuffer.
But if Providence has been fo kind as not to fubjed us to much
of this difcipline in our own lot, let us draw improvement from
the harder lot of others. Let us fometimes ftep afide from the
fmooth and flowery paths in which we are permitted to walk, in
order to view the toilfome march of our fellows through the thor-
ny defert. By voluntarily going into the houfe of mourning ; by
yielding to the fentiments which it excites, and mingling our tears
with thofe of the afflifted, we fliall acquire that humane fenfibili-
ty which is one of the higheft ornaments of the nature of man.
Perceiving how much the common diftrelles of life place us all ou
a level, and render the high and the low, the rich and the poor,
companions in misfortune aad morality, vwe fliall learn to fet no
man at nought, and, leafl of any, our afflided brother. Preju-
slices will be extinguifhed, and benevolence opentd and enlarged^
N \ wHien
Io8 C'ft the Benefits to be derived
when looking around on the multitude of men, we c on fid er them
2^ a band of fellow-travellers in the valley of woe, where it
ought to be the office of every one to alleviate, as much as poflible,
the common burden. While the vain and the licentious are
revelling in the midft of extravagance and riot, how little do they
think of thofe fcenes of fore diltfefs which are going on at that
moment throughout the world; multitudes ftruggling for a poor
fubfiftence to fupport the wife and the children whom they love,
and who look up to them Vv'ith eager eyes for that bread which
they can hardly procure ; multitudes groaning under ficknefs in
delblate cottages, untended and unmourned ; many, apparently
in a better fituation of life, pining away in fecret with concealed
griefs ; families weeping over the beloved friends whom they have
loft, or in all the bitternefs of anguifh, bidding thofe who are
juft expiring the laft adieu I
May we not appeal to the heart of every good man, nay al-
raoft to the heart of every man who has not diverted himfelf of
his natural feelings, whether the adaiilFion of fuch views of hu-
man life might not, fometimes at leaft, furnilh a more worthy
employment to the mind, than that mirth of fools, which Solomon
compares to the crackling of thorns under a pot ;* the tranfient
burft of unmeaning joy ; the empty explofion of giddinefs and le-
vity I Thofe fallies of jollity in the houfe of feafting are often
forced from a troubled mind ; like flaflies from the black cloudj
which, after a momentary effulgence, are fucceeded by thicker
darknefs. Whereas companionate alfedions, even at the time
when they draw tears from our eyes for human mifery, convey
fatisfadtion to the heart. The gracious appointment of Heaven
has ordained that fympathetic pains fhould always be accompanied
with a certain degree of pleafure; on purpofe that we might be
more interefted in the cafe of the diftrelTed, and that, by this
myfterious bond, man might be linked clofer to man. The in-
ward latisfacftion which belongs to the corapalTionate affedions is,
at the fame time, heightened by the approbation which they re-
ceive from our reafon ; and by the confcioufnefs which they af-
ford us of feeling what men and Chriftians ought to feel.
In
* Ecc/ef vii. 6. '
fr(^m the Houfe of Mourmvg, 109
In the fourth place, the difpofition recommended in the text,
not only improves us in piety and humanity, but likewife aflTifts us
in felf government, and the due moderation of our defires. The
houfe of mourning is the fchool of temperance and fobriety.
Every wife man will find it for his intereft to enter into it fome-
times of his own accord, left otherwife he be compelled to
take up his d.yelling there. Seafonable interruptions of our plea-
fures are neceflary to their prolongation. For, continued fcenes
of luxury and indulgence haften to a melancholy ilTue. The
houfe of feafting too often becomes an avenue to the houfe of
mourning. Short, to the licentious, is the interval between
them ; and fpeedy the tranfition from the one to the other.
But fuppofmg that, by prudent management, the men of plea-
fure could avoid the pernicious effects which intemperance and
diflblutenefs are likely to produce on their health or their fortune,
can they alfo prevent thofe diforders which fuch habits will intro-
duce into their minds ? Can they efcape that wrath of the Almigh-
ty, which will infallibly purfue them for their fins both here
and hereafter ? For whence, fo much as from the unchecked
purfuit of pleafure, do all thofe crimes arife which ftain the cha-
racters of men with the deepeft guilt, and expole them to the fe-
vereft judgments of Heaven ? Whence, then, is the corredive of
thofe mifchiefs to be fought, but from fuch difcipline as fhall mo-
derate that intempeiate admiration of the world which gave rife
to the evil ? By repairing fometimes to the houfe of mourniog, you
would chaften the loofenefs of fancy, abate the eagernefs of paf-
fion, and afford fcope to reafon for exerting her reftraining pow-
ers. You would behold this world ftripped of its falfe colours,
and reduced to its proper level. Many an important inflruaion
you would receive from the humiliation of the proud, the morti-
fication of the vain, and the fufferings of the voluptuous, which
you would fee exemplified before you, in the chambers of forrow,
of ficknefs, and of death. You would then be taught to rejaice
as though you rejoiced not, and to weep as though you weeped not ;
that is, neither in joy, nor in grief, to run to ty^ztk-, but to vfe
this world fo as not to ahufe it; contemplating //s^ fajlnon thereof as
pciffing away.
Moreover, you would there learn the important lefion^of fbit-
ing
I lo On the Benefits to he deiived
ing your tniiui, before-hand, to what you had reafon to expect
from the world ; a lefTon too fcldom (iudied by mankind, and to
the neglecl: of which, much of their mifery, and much of their
guilt, is to be charged. By turning away their eyes from the
dark fide of hfe, by looking at the world only in one light, and
that a flattering one, they fornj their meafures on a falfe plan,
and are neceflarily deceived and betrayed. Hence, the vexation
of fucceeding difappointment and blafted hope. Hence, their cri-
minal impatience of life, and their bitter accufations of God and
man ; when, in truth, they have reafon to accufe only their own
folly. Thou who wouldft acl like a wife man, and build thy
houfe on the rock, and not on the fand, contemplate human life
not only in the funihine, but in the fnade. Frequent the houfe
of mourning, as well as the hoai't; of mirth. Study the nature
of that ftate in which thou art placed ; and balance its joys
-aith its forroA's. Thou feefl that the cup s\iiich is held forth to
the whole human race, is mixed. Of its bitier ingredients, ex-
pc(Sl: that rhou art to drink thy portion, l^hou feeft the florm
hovering every where in the clouds around thee. Be not furprif-
cd if on thy head it fiiall break. Lower, therefore, thy fails.
Difmifs thy florid hopes; and come forth prepared either to acft
or to fufter, according as Heaven li^all decree. Thus (halt thou
be excited to take the properefl meafures for defence, by endea-
vouring to fecure an interelt in his favour, who, in the time
cf trouble y can hide thee in his pavilion^ Thy mind fliall adjuft it-
felf to follow the order of his providence. Thou flialt be ena-
bled, with eqinnimity and fleadinefs, to hold thy courfe through
life.
In the fifth place, by accuftoming curfelves to fuch ferious
views of life, our excefiive fondnefs for life itfelf will be mode-
rated, and our minds gradually formed to wifii and to long for
a better world. If we know that our continuance here is to be
fliort and that we are intended by our Maker for a more lafling
itate, and for employments cfa nature ahogether different from
thofe which nov,' occupy the bufy, or amufe the vain, we mufl:
fnreiy be convi:ice(i tiiat it is of the higheft confequence to pre-
pare curfelves for fo in^portant a change. This view of our du-
from the Houfe of Mourning, 1 1 1
ty is frequently held up to us in the facred writings ; and hence
religion becomes, though not a morofe, yet a grave and folemn
principle, calling ofTthe attention of men from light purfuits ta
thole which are of eternal moment. What is a man profited if he
fl^all gain the whole worU, and lofe his own foul ; if he fliall lead a
life of thoughtlefs mirth on earth, and exclude himfelf from eter-
nal felicity in heaven? Worldly afFedion and lenfual pleafure
deprefs all our higher powers. They form an unnatural union
between the human foul and this earth, which was only defigned
for its temporary abode. They attach it too ftrongly to objeds
from which it muft fhortly parr. They alienate its defires from
God and heaven, and deje£t it with flavifh and unmanly fears of
death. Whereas, by the difcipline of religious ferioufnefs, it is
gradually loofened from the fetters of fenfe. AlTifted to difcover
the vanity of this world, it rifes above it ; and in the hours of
fober thought, cultivates connexion with thofe divine and im-
mortal objeds, among which it is defigned to dwell.
Enough has now been faid to convince'any thinking perfon of the
juftice and reafonablenefs of the maxims in the text ; and to fiiow,
that, on various occafions, forrow may be better than laughter,
Wouldft thou acquire the habit of recollecTtion, and fix the prin-
ciples of thy coudu6l ; wouldft thou be led up to thy Creator and
rledeemer, and be formed to fentiments of piety and devotion ;
wouldfi thou be acquainted with thofe mild and tender afFedions
which delight the companionate and humane; wouldft thou have
the power of fenfual appetites tamed and correded, and thy foul
raifed above the ignoble love of life, and fear of death ? Go, my
brother, go — not to fcene« of pleafure and riot, not to the houfe
of feafting and mirth — but to the filent houfe of mourning ; and
adventure to dwell for a while among objedts that will foften thy
heart. Conteaiplate the lifelefs remains of what once was fair
and fiourifhing. Bring home to thyfelf the vicifTitudes of life.
Recal the remembrance of the friend, the parent, or the child,
whom thou tenderly lovedft. Look back on the days of former
years; and think on the companions of thy youth, who now fleepiu
the duft. Let the vanity, the mutability, and the forrows of the hu-
man ftate, rife in full profped before thee ; and though thy couffte-
nance
J 1 2 On the Benefits to be derived, Bcc.
nance may be made fad, thy heart /hall be made better. This fadnefs,
though for the prefent it dejects, yet fliall in the end fortify thy
fpirit ; infpiring thee with fuch fentiments, and prompting fuch
refolutions as Ihali enable thee to enjoy, with more real advan-
tage, the red of life, Difpodtions of this nature form one part
©f the charader of thofe mourners whom our Saviour hath pro-
nounced bkjfed ; and of thofe to whom it is promifed, that fovj-
ing in tears they Jh all reap in joy ."^ A great difference there is be-
tween being ferious and melancholy ; and a melancholy too there
is of that kind which deferves to be fometimes indulged.
Religion hath on the whole provided for every good man
abundant materials of confolation and relief. How dark foever
the prefent face of nature may appear, it difpels the darknefs,
when it brings into view the entire fyflem of things, and extends
our furvey to the whole kingdom of God. It reprefents what
we now behold as only a part, and a fmall part^ of the general order.
It affures us, that though here, for wife ends, mifery and forrow
are permitted to have place, thefe temporary evils fliall, in the
end, advance the happinefs of all who love God, and are faithful
to their duty. It fliows them this mixed and confufed fcene va-
nifliing by degrees away, and preparing the introdudion of that
ftate, where the houfe of mourning fliall be (hut up for ever ;
where no tears are {Qe\), and no groans heard ; v/here no hopes
are frullrated, and no virtuous connections diflblved ; but where,
under the light of the divine countenance, gocdneJs fliall flourifli
in perpetual felicity. Thus, though religion may occafionally
chalten our mirth with fadnefs of countenance, yet under that
fadnefs it allows not the heart of good men to fink. It calls up-
on them to rejoice, becaufe the Lord reigneth who is their Rock, and
the mojl high God who is their Redeemer. Reafon likewife joins
her voice with that of religion; forbidding us to make peevifh
and unreafonable complaints of human life, or injurioufly to af-
cribe to ic more evil than it contains. Mixed as the prefent
ftate is, fhe pronounces, that generally, if not always, there is
more happinefs than mifery, more pleafurs than pain, in the con-
dition of man.
SERMON
* Matth, V. 4. Pfahn cxxvi. 5.
[ lOO ]
SERMON XXIX.
On the divine Government of the Passions
of Men.
^ •^--^•"^-•^•^ft -^
Psalm Ixxvi. lo.
Surely the wrath of man Jhall pralfethee ; the rematnd^ of wrath
jhalt thou rejirain^
THIS Pfalm appears to have been compofed on occafion of
forne remarkable deliverance obtained by the Jewifh nation.
It is generally underftood to have been writing in the reign of
Hezekiah, and to refer to the formidable invafion of Judsea by
Sennacherib ; when the angel of the Lord, in one night, difcom-
lited the whole Aflyrian hoft, and fmote them with fudden deftruc-
tion. To this interpofition of the divine arm, thofe exprcflions in the
context may naturally be applied ; Then brake he the arrows of the
bow, thefhield, the /word, and the battle, TheJlout-heariedarefpoUed:
they have flept their Jleep; and none cf the men of might have fQund
their hands. At thy rebuke, God of Jacob, both the chariot and
the horfe are caji into a dead fleep. In the text we have the wife:
and religious reflexion of the Pfalmift upon the violent de^
figns which had been carried on by the enemies of his country,
and upon the ifTue to which Providence had brought them. Sure^
ly the wrath of man fhall praife thee. By the wrath of man, we
are to underftand all that the impetuofity of human palTions can
devife or execute; the projeds of ambition and refentment, the
rage of perfeeution, the fury of war; the diforders which vio-
lence produces in private life, and the public commotions which
it excites in the world. All thefe (hall praife Cod, not with their
mtention and dellgn^ nor b/ their native tendency ; but by thofe
wife
1 14 On the divine Government, &c.
wife and good purpofes, which his providence makes them acrom-
plilh ; from their poifon extradling health, and converting things
which in themfclves are pernicious, into inftruments of his glory,
and of public benefit : So that, though the wrath of man worketh
riot the right eoufnefs of God, it is neverthelefs forced and compelled
to minilter to his praife. The Pfalmifl adds, the remainder of
-<uraih fjialt thou refirain ; that is, God will allow fcope to the
wrath of man as far as it anfwers his good purpofes, and is fub-
fervient to his praife; the reft of it Ihall be curbed and bound up.
When it would attempt to go beyond itsprefcribed limit, he fays
to it, as to the waters of the ocean, '♦ Hitherto flialt thou come,
" but no farther ; and here fliall thy proud waves be flayed.'^
All this diall be fully verified and declared by the laft iffue of
things ; when we (hall be able more clearly to trace the divine
adminirtration through its leveral fteps, by feeing the confumma-
tion of the whole. In fome cafes, it may be referved for this
period to unfold the myfterious wifdom of Heaven. But in ge-
neral, as much of the divine conduct is at prefent manifeft, as
gives juft ground for the alTertion in the text. In the fequel of
this difcourfe, I fliall endeavour to illuftrate and confirm it, I
fliall fhow in what nianner the wrath of man is made to praife the
power, the wifdom, the juftice, and the goodnefs of God.
I BEGIN with this obfervation, That in order to accomplifh the
great purpofes carried on by the Government of the Univerfe, it
is neceflary that the divine perfedions be difplayed before man-
kind in a fenfible and ftriking manner. We are not to conceive
the fupreme Being as hereby feeking praife to himfelf, from a
principle of oftentation or vain-glory. Independent and felf-
fufficient, he reils in the enjoyment of his own beatitude. His
praile eonfifts in the general order and welfare of his creation.
This end cannot be attained, unJefs mankind be made to feel the
fubje(5tion under v. hich they are placed. They muft be taught to
admire and adore their Sovereign. They mnft be overawed by
the view of a high hand, which canatpleafure controul their ac-
tions, and render them fubfervient ro purpofes which they nei-
ther forefaw nor intended, Heiice the propriety of God's mak-
ing the wrath of man tQ praife him. We eafily conceive in vvhar
manner
Qf the Paffions of Men, , 1 1 r
manner the heavens and the earth are faid to praife God, as they
are ihnding monuiiients of that fupreme perfection which is di(-
played in their creation. The virtues of good men obvionfly
praife him, by exhibiting his image, and refleding back his glory.
But when even the vices and inordinate paHions of bad men are
made to praife him, in coniequence of the ufeful purpofes which
they are compelled to accompli fli, this, in a particular manner,
diftinguiflies and fignalizes a divine hand ; this opens a more
vvonderfnl profped of the adminiftraticn of Heaven, than if all
its fubjefts had been loyal and willingly obedient, and the courfe
of human affairs had proceeded in a quiet and regular tenour.
I. The wrath of man redounds to the praife of divine power. It
brings it forth with full and awful lufire, to the view of man-
kind. To reign with fovcreign command amidft the moft turbu-
lent and dilbrdered ftate of things, both in the natural and moral
world, is the peculiar glory of omnipotence. Hence God is de-
fcribed in Scripture as ** fitting on the flood, riding on the wings
" of the wind, dwelling in the darknefs and the tempeft ;" that
is, making the moit violent powers in the uuiverfe minifter to his
will, giving them fcope, or reftraining them, according as fuits
the purpofes of his dominion. As he fiills^ at his pleafure, <^ the
*' raging of the feas, and the noifeof their waves," in like man-
ner " he (tills the tumults of the people.'* When the pafllons of
men are molt inflamed, and their defigns jult ripe for burning
into execution, often^ by fonie unexpeded interpofition, he calls
upon the world to obferve that there is one h'gher than the high-
eft on earth, who can frufl:rate their devices in a moment, and
command " the earth to be (till before him." Proud fleets, de-
ftined to carry defl ruction to neighbouring kingdoms, may rover
t^e ocean. He blows with his wind, and they are fcattcred.
Mighty armies may go forth to the field in all the glory of human
ftrength ; but the ilTues of battle are with him. He fufpends on
high the invifible b.ilance which weighs the fate of nations. Ac-
cording as the fcale inclines, he gives to fome flight event the
power of deciding the contelt. He clouds ihe iliy willi darknefs,
or opens the windows of heaven to let forth their flood. He
•lejeds the hearts of the brave ivith fudden terrour, and renders
O the
1 1 6 On the divine Government
the hands cf the (Irong \wak and unperforming at the critical
moment. A thoufand unfeen ininiflers Hand ready to be the in-
flruments of his power, in humbling the pride, and checking the
efforts of the wrath of man. Thus, in the inftance of haughty
Sennacherib, and that boafled tempeil of wrath which he threat-
ened to pour upon all the Jewifii nation ; '^ I will put my hook,''
fays the Almighty, " in thy nofe, and my bridle in thy lips, and
*' I will turn thee back by the way by which thou earned."* In
that night the deftroying angel Imote the hoil, and he ^' departed
<' with fhame of face to his own land. When the heathen rage,
'' and the people imagine a vain thing ; when the kings of the
'* earth fet themfelves, and its rulers take council together. He
** that fitteth in the Heavens (hall laugh ; the Lord (hall hold
** them in derifion.'^f
n. THEiurath of man is made to pra'^^e the wifdom as well as
the power of God. Nothing difplays more remarkably the ad-
mirable council of heaven, than its arranging the train of events
in fuch a manner, that the unruly paffions of the wicked fliall contri-
bute to overthrow their own deligns. Hiftory abounds with ex-
amples of their being rendered the unconfcious minifters of Pro-
vidence, to accomplilh purpofes diredly oppofite to thofe which
they had in view. Thus the cruelty of the fons of Jacob, in pur-
fuing the deftru6tion of their brother Jofeph, became the means
of effeding his high advancement. 1 hus the wrath of Pharaoh
^gainft the Ifraelites, and his unjuft attempts to detain them in
bondage, proved the occafion of bringing them forth from the land
of flavery, with fignal marks of the favour of Heaven. Thus
the inhuman plan which Haman had formed for ruining Mor-
decai, and extirpating the whole Jevvilh nation, paved the way
for Mordecai's high promotion, and for the triuniph of the Jews
over all their enemies.
After this manner the Almighty " fnareth the wicked in the
<< works ot their hands ;" and ereds his ov/n council upon the
ruin of theirs. Thofe events which, viewed apart, appear as
fpots in the divine adminiftration, when confidered in connexion
with all their confequences, are often found to give it additional
luttre.
* Kings f xix. 28. f Pfalm ii, i, 2, 3.
of the Paffims of Men, 117
Wire. The beauty anj magnificence of the univerfe are much
heightened, by its being an extenfive and complicated fyftem ; in
which a variety ot fprings are made to play, and a multitude of
different movements are, with moft admirable art, regulated and
kept in order. Interfering intcrefts, and jarring pafTions, are in
iuch manner balanced againft one another ; fuch proper checks
are placed on the violence of human purfuits ; and the -wrath of
man is made fo to hold its courfe, that how oppofite foever the
feveral motions feem to be, yet they concur and meet at laft in
one direction. While, among the multitudes that dwell on the
face of the earth, ^on-\2 are fubmiirive to the divine authority ; fome
rife up in rebellion againft it ; others, abforbed in their pleafures
and purfuits, are totally inattentive to it ; they are all fo moved
by an imperceptible influence from ajbove, that the zeal of the du-
tiful, the wrath of the rebellious, and the indifference of the carelefs,
contribute finally to the glory of God. All are governed in fuch
away as fuits their powers^ and is confiftent with rational free-
dom, yet all are fubjeded to the neceffity of fulfilling the eternal
purpofes of Heaven. This depth of divine wifdom in the admi-
niftration of the univerle, exceeds all human comprehenfion, and
affords everlafting fubjed of adoration and praife.
III. The wrath of man praifes the juftice of God, by being
employed as the inftrument of infliding punifliment upon (inners.
Did bad men trace the courfe of events in their life with attentive
eye, they might eafily difcover the greateft part, of the difafters
which they fuffer, to be brought upon them by their own ungo-
verned pafFions. The fucceffion of caufes and effcdis is fo contrived
by Providence, that the wrath which they meant to pour forth
on others, frequently recoils, by its effeds, upon themfelves.
But fuppofing them to efcape thofe external mifchiefs which violent
pafiions naturally occafion, they cannot evade the internal mifery
which they produce. The conftitution of things is framed with
fuch profound wifdom, that the divine laws, in every event, ex-
ecute themfelves againff the (inner, and carry their fandtion in
their own bofom. The Supreme Being has no occafion to unlock
the prifons of the deep, or to call down the thunder from heaven,
in order to punifh the wrath of man. He carries on the admini-
ftration
1 1 8- On the divine Government
llr.uioij of juflice with rnce fimplicity and dignify. It is fuf-
ficienr that he allow thole fierce pafllons which render bad men
tne diiliirbers of others, to operate on their own hearts. He deli-
vers them up to themfelves, and they become their own tormen-
tors. Before the world they may dilgiiife their fiifierings ; but it is
well known, that to be inwardly torn with defpite, revenge, and
wrathful paffions, is the moft intenfe ot all milery. In thus con-
necting the puniihment with the crime, xht'w ownvslckednefs tore-
prove them, and their hackjlidings io chrrtii them, the avenging
hand of a righteous Governour is confpicuous ; and thus the ob-
fervation of the Pfalmift is fully verified ; " the wicked have
*' drawn out their fword and bent their bow, to caffc down the
" poor and needy; but their fword fliall enter into their own
« heart."*
The wrath of man alfo praifes the juflice of God in the punifh-
ment of other criminals, as well as of the wrathful themfelves.
Ambitious and lawlefs men are let loofe upon each other, that,
without any fupernatural interpofition, they may fulfil the juft
vengeance of heaven in their mutual deftruclion. They may oc-
cafionally be cemented together by confpiracy againft the juft;
but as no firm nor lading bond can unite them, they become at
laft the prey of m.utual jealoufy, ftrife, and fraud. For a time
they may go on, and feem to profper. The juftice of Heaven
may appear to flmiber ; but it is awake, and only waits till the
mealure of their iniquity be full. God reprefents himfelf in Scrip-
ture as fometimes permitting wickednefs to arife to an overgrown
height, Of) purpofe that its ruin maybe the greater, and more
exemplary. He fays to the tyrant of Egypt, that /or this canfe
he had raifed him up, that is, had allowed him to profper and be
exalted, '^ that he miglu fliew in him his power; and that his
" name might be declared throughout all the earth.^f The di-
vine adminiib'ation is glorified in the punifhment contrived for
the workers of iniquity, as well as in the reward prepared for the
righteous. " This is the purpofe which the Lord hath purpofed
" upon all the earth; and this is the hand that is fli etched forth
" over all the nations. '^t
IV. The wrath of man is made to praife the goodnefs of God.
This
* P/alm xxxvii. J 4, 15. f Ev.zd. ix. j6. % Jfaiah, xiv, a6.
o/ the Paflons of Men. 1 19
This is the moft unexpcvSted of its effects ; and therefore requires
to be the moft fully illultrated. All the operations of the govern-
ment of the Deity may be ultimately refolved into goodnefs. His
power, and wifdom, iuid jnftice, all conduce to general happinefs
and ord?r. Among the means which he ufes for accomplidiing
this end, it will be found, that the wrath of man, through his
over-ruling diredion, polTelTes a confiderable place.
Firil, it is en}ployed by God as an ufeful inftrument of difci-
pline and corredion to the virtuous. The ftorms which ambition
and pride raife among mankind, he perm.its with the fame inten-
tion that he fends forth tempefts among the elements ; to clear the
atmofphere of lioxious vapours, and to purify it from that cor-
ruption which all things contrad by too much reft. When wick-
ed men prevail in their defigns, and exercife the power which
they have gained with a heavy and oppreffive hand, the virtuous
are apt to exclaim, in bitternefsof foul, Where is the Lord? and
where the fceptre of righteoufnefs and truth ? Hath God forgotten
I0 be graclou? P or doth he indeed fee, and is there knowledge in the
Moji High ? Their oppretTors are, in truth, no more than the
minifters of God to them for good. He fees th^t they ftand in
need of corretftion, and therefore raifes up eriemies againft them,
in order to cure the inte-nperance of profperity ; and to produce,
in the ferious hours of affl.dion, proper reflexions upon their du-
ty, and their pad errours.
In this light the diflurbers of the earth are often reprefented
in Scripture, as fcourges in the hand of God, ensployed to inflift
chaftifement upon a degenerating people. They are commifnoned
for the execution of righteous and wife purpofes, concealed from
theinfelves ; and when their commifiion is fulfilled, they are re*;
called anddeftroyed. Of this we have a remarkable example in theufe
which God made of thekingof AlTyria, with refped: to the people of
Ifrael : " I will fend him againft an hypocritical nation, and a-
'* gainft the people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to take
^- the fpoil, and to take the prey. Howbeit, he meaneth not fo ;
'"'^ neither doth his heart think fo ; but it is in his heart to deftroy,
'^ and cut otf nations not a few. Wherefore it fhall come to pi.fs,
" that wheti the Lord hath performed his whole work upon
'^ mount Zion and on Jerufalem, I will punifh the fruit of the
" ftout
12© Of4 the divine Goverwnent
'* ftout heart of the king of Aflyria, and the glory of his high
'* looks.''* In vain, then, doth xhcwrath ^f man hft itfelf up a-
gainft God. « lie faith, by the ftrength of my hand I have done
** it, and by my wifdoin, for I am prndent. Shall the ax boaft
" itfeif againft him that heweth therewith ? or fliall the faw
'^ magnify itfelf againfl him that (baketh it?'' All things, whether
tliey will it or nor, mufi wgrk together jor good to tktm that love
Cod. The wrath of man, among the reft, fills up the place ailign-
ed to it by the ordination of Heaven. The violent enemy, the
proud conqueror, and the o}>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 relpe<fls,
from religious knowledge and belief ? It is obvious, that all in-
creafe of knowledge is improvement to the underftanding. The
more that its fphere is enlarged, the greater number of objedts
that are fubmitted to its view, efpecially v/hen thefe obje6ls are
of intrinfic excellence, the more muft thofe rational powers^
vshich are the glory of man, be in the courfe of attaining their
proper ftrength and maturity. But were the knowledge of religion
merely fpecul^tive, though the fpeculation mufl be admitted to be
noble, yet lefs could be faidof its importance. We recommend ic
to mankind, as forming the heart, and direfling the life. Thofe
pure and exalted conceptions which the Chriftian religion has
taught us to entertain of the Deity, as the univerfal Father and
righteous Governour of the univerfe, the Standard of unfpotted
perfection ; and the Juthor of every good and ferjefi gift ; con-
ducting his whole adminiih-ation with an eternal regard to order,
virtue, and truth ; ever favouring the caufe, and fupporting the
interefis, of righteous men ; and applying, in this dire(5lion, the
whole might of omnipotence, and the whole council of unerring
"ivifdom, from the beginning to the end of things; fuch concep-
tions both kindle devotion, and ftrengthen virtue. They give
fortitude to the mind in thepraftice of righteoufnefs^ and eftabJifh
the perfuafion of its beiiig our higheft intereft.
All the docT:rines peculiar to the Gofpel are great improvements
on what the light of nature had imperfectly fuggeftod. A high
difpenfation of Providence is made known, particularly fuited to
the exigencies of man ; calculated for recovering him from that
corrupted flare into which experience bears wirnefs that he is
fallen, and for rt'lioring him to integrity, and favour with his
Creator. The method of carrying on this great plan is fuch as
gives us the moll: ffriking views of the importance of righteouf.
nefs or virtue, and of the high account in which it ftands with
God. The Son of God appeared on the earth, and fuffered as a
propitiation for the fins of iiie world, with thisexprefs intention^,
that
Reftghits Knowledge to Mankind. 131
that he might bring in everlajiing nghteoufuefs ; tliat he n)io;ht
purge our confciences from decid works to Jervs the llv'wg Cod ; that
he niiglic " redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himfelf
<^ a peculiar psopls zealous of good works.'* Such a merciful in-
terpofition of the Creator of the world, while it illuftriouily dif-
plays his goodnefs, and fignalizes his concern for the moral inter-
efts of mankind, affords us, at the fame time, the molt faiisfying
ground of confidence and truft. It offers an object to the mind
on which it can lay hold for the fecurity of its future hopes ;
when, with a certainty far beyond what any abftraft argument
could yield, it appeals to a diftinguifhed fad; and is enabled to
fay, " He that fpared not his own Son, but delivered him up
" for us all, how (hall he not with him alfo freely give us all.
things V*
While the divine government is thus placed in a light the moH:
amiable, and mofi encouraging to every virtuous mind, there is
at the fame time fomething extremely awful and folemn in the
whole do(ftrine of redemption. It is calculated to (Irike the
mind with reverence for the divine adminiftration. It points at
fonie deep malignity in fm, at ibme dreadful confequences flow-
ing from guilt, unknown in their caufes and in their whole effecfts
to us, which moved the Sovereign of the world to depart from
the ordinary courle of Providence, and to bring about the le-
ftoration of his f:illen creatures by a method fo aftonifhino-.
Mankind are hereby awakened to the moil ferious refiedions.
Such views are opened of the fandity of the divine lav/s, of the
ftridtnefs of the divine juftice, of the importance of the part
which is affigned them to a6f, as ferve to prevent their trifling
with human life, and add dignity and folemnity to virtue. Thefe
great purpofes are farther carried on, by the difcovery which is
made of the fixed connexion in which this life flands with a fu-
ture eternal (late. We are reprefented ^s /owing now, what we
are to reap hereafter ; uudergoing a courfe of probation and trial,
which, according as it terminates in our improvement, or leaves
us unreformed and corrupted, will difmifs us to laftii'g abodes, ei-
ther of punifhment or reward. Such a difcovery riles far above
the dubious conjeclures, and uncertain reafonings, which mere
Q^ natural
* R^m. viii. 32.
1^2 On the Importance of
natural light fnggefts concerning the future condition of mankind.
Here we find, what alone can produce any confiderable influence
on praflice, cxphcit proiiiife and threatening ; an authoritative
fanction given to a law ; the Governour and Judge revealed ; and
all the motives which can operate on hope and fear, brought
home to the heart, with Thus/aid the Lord of Hofls. In a v^ ord,
a great and magnilicent plan of divine adminiftration is opened to
us in the Gofpel of Chrift ; and nothing is omitted that can im-
prefs mankind with the perfuafion of their being all, in the
AriJteii fenfe, fubjec^s of the moral government of God.
Though the bonds of this Difcourfe allow us to take only 3«
iinperfed view of the principles of Chriftian do6lrine, yet the
hints which have been given, lay a fufficient foundation for ap-
pealing to every impartial mind, whether the knowledge and
belief of fuch principles be not intimately conncdled with the
improvement, and, by confequcnce, with the happinefs of man ?
I reafon now with luch as admit, that virtue is the great fource
both of improvement and happinefs. Let them lay w hat flrefo ihey
pleafe iipon the authority of confcience, and upon the force and
evidence of its dictates ; can they refufe to allow that the na-
tural tendency of the principles which I have mentioned, is to
fupport thofe dictates, and to confirm that authority ; to excite,
on various occafions, the inoft ufeful fentiments ; to provide addi-
tional reftraints from vice, and additional motives to every virtue?
Who dares pronounce, that there is no cafe in which confcience
(lands in need of fuch afhltance to dircifl^, where there is fo much
uncertainty and darknefs ; and to pronipt, where there is fo much
feeblenefs and irrefolution, and fuch a fatal pronenefs to vice and
folly ?
But how good foever the tendency of religious principles may
be, fome will ftill call in queftion their adual fignificancy, and
influence on life. This tendency is by various caufes defeated.
Between the belief of religious principles and a correfpondenx
praflice, it willbe alledged that frequent experience fliews there is
no neceflary connexion; and that therefore the propagation of
the one, cannot give us any alTurance of proportionable improve-
ments following in the other. — This, in part^ is granted to be
true ;
Religious Knowledge to Mankind, i-i^
tme ; as we admit that religious knowledfre and belief are fufcep-
tible of various degrees, before they arrive at that real Chriftian
faith which the Scripture reprelents as purlfing the heart. But
though the connexion between principle and pradice be not ne-
ceiTary and invariable, it will not, I fuppofe, be denied, that
there is fome connexion. Here then one avenue to the heart is
opened. If the tendency of religious knowledge be good, wif-
dom muft direct, and duty oblige us to cultivate it. For tenden-
cy will, at leaft in fome cafes, rife into e^e^ ; and, probably, ia
more cafes than are known and obferved by the world. Befides
the diftinguilhed examples of true religion and virtue which have,
more or lei's, adorned every age of the Chridian aera, what num-
bers may there be, in the more filent and private fcenes of life,
overlooked by fuperficial obfervers of mankind, on whofe hearts
and lives religious principles have the mod happy influence ?
Even on loofe and giddy minds, where they are far from accom-
plifliing their full effed:, their influence is, frequently, not altoge-
ther lort. Itnprellions of religion often check vice in its career.
They prevent it from proceeding its utmoft length ; and though
they do not entirely reform the offender, they ferve to maintain
order in fociety, Perfons who are now bad, might probably
have been worfe without them, and the world havefuffered more
from unreflrained licentioufnefs. They often fow latet-t feeds of
goodnefs in the heart, which proper circumftances and occafions
afterwards ripen ; though the reformation of the ofFt iider may
not be fo confpicuous as his former enormities have been. From
the native tendency of religious belief, there is reafon to conclude,
that thofe good effects of it are not fo rare as fome would repre-
fent them. By its nature and tendency, we can belter judire of
its eifeds, than by obfervations drawn from a fuppofed experience,
which often is narrow in its compafs, and fallacious in its conclufions.
The a6tual influence of principle and belief on mankind, ad-
mits of clear illullration from uncowtefted matter of fad. They
who hold the good effeds of Chriftian principles to be fo incoiifi-
derable, as to render the propagation of thim of fmall impor-
tance, will be at no lofs to give us inflances of corrupt principles
of belief having had the moft powerful influence on the world.
Loud complaints we hear from this quarter of the direfu' effeds
which
134 ^-^^ i^^^ Impart a fice of
which fupcrflition and enthufiafra have produced ; of their hav-
ing poifoncd the tempers, and transformed ihe manners of men ;
of their having overcome the ftrongeft rellraints of law, of rea-
fon, and humanity. Is this then the cafe, that all principles,
except good ones, are of fuch mighty energy ? Strange ! that
falfe religion (hould be able to do fo much, and true religion fo
little ; that belief, fo powerful in the one cafe, fliculd be fo impo-
tent in the other. — No impartial inquirer, furely, can entertain this
opinion. The whole hiftory of mankind Ihows that their religi-
ous tenets and principles, of whatever nature they be, are of
great influence in forming their charadler, and direding their
conducT:. The mifchief which falfe principles have done, affords
a good argument to guard carefully againft errour ; but as it is
a proof of what belief can do, it gives ground to hope the more
from ir, when rightly dire6ted. The fame torrent which, when
it is put out of its natural courfe, overflows and lays wafie a
country, adorns and enriches it, when running in lis proper
channel. If it be alledged that fuperiiition is likely to be more
powerful in its elFecls than truth, becaufe it agrees better with the
follies and corruptions of the world, we may oppofe to this, on
the other hand, that truth has the divine blefling and the counte-
nance of Heaven on its iide. Let us always hope well of a caufe
that is good in itfelf, and beneficial to mankind. Trutii is migh-
ty, and will prevail. Let us fpread the hicjrruptible feed as
widely as we can, and trud in God that he will give the increafc.
Having thus fnewn the importance of religious knowledge to
mankind in the way of improvement, let us,
In the fecond place, confider it in the lignt of confolation ; as
bringing aid and relief to us amidfl the dillreffes of life. Here
religion incontcA.ibly triumphs ; and its happy efft:6ls, in this re-
i^^t^, furnilii a Itrong ai-gument to every benevolent mind for
wilhing them to be farther diffufed throughout the world. For
without the belief and hope afforded by divine Revelation, the
circumffances of man are extremely forlorn. He finds himfelf
placed here as a nrangcr in a vaft univerfe, where the powers
and operations 'of nature are very imperfedly known ; where
both the beginnings ar^d the ilRies of things are involved in myl-
terioas
Rdigious Knowledge to Mankind. 135
terious darknefs ; where he is unable to difcover, with any cer-
tainty, whence he fprung, or for what purpofe he was brought
into this ftate of exiftence ; whether he be fubjeded to the go-
vernment of a mild, or of a wrathful ruler ; what conftruclion
he is to put on many of his difpenfations of the providence ; and
what his fate is to be when he departs hence. What a difconfo-
late fii nation to a ferious inquiring mind ! The greater degree
of virtue it poITelFes, its fenfibility is likely to be the more op-
prefled by this burden of labouring thought. Even though it
were in one's power to banifli all uneafy thought, and to fill up
the hours of life with perpetual amufement, life fo filled up would,
upon refledion, appear poor and trivial. But thefe are far from
being the terms upon which man is brought into this world. He
is confcious that his being is frail and feeble ; he fees himfelf be-
fet' with various dangers ; and is expofed to many a melancholy
apprehenfion, from the evils which he may have to encounter,
before he arrives at the clofe of life. Jn this diftreffed condi-
tion, to reveal to him fuch difcoveries of the Supreme Being as
the Chriftian religion affords, is to reveal to him a Father and
a Friend ; is to let in a ray of the moH: cheering light upon the
darknefs of the human edate. He who was before adeftitute or-
phan, wandering in the inhofpitable defert, has now gained a
fhelter from the bitter and inclement blaft. He now knows to
rvhom to pray, and in whom to truft ; where tounbofom hisfor-
rows ; and trom what hand to look for relief.
It is certain, that when the heart bleeds from fome wound of
recent misx^ortune, nothing is of equal efficacy with religious com-
fort. It is of power to enlighten the darkeft hour, and to alTuao-e
the fevered woe, by the belief of divine favour, and the prof-
peel of a bleffed immortality. In fuch hopes the mind expatiates
with-joy ; and, when bereaved of its earthly friends, folaces it-
felf With the thoughts of one Friend, who vv/ill never forfake it.
Refined reafonings concerning the nature of the human condi-
tion, and the improvement which philofophy teaches us to make
of every event, may entertain the mind when it is at eafe ; may
perhaps contribute to footh it when (lightly touched with forrow.
But when it is torn with any fore diftrefs, they are cold and fee-
ble, coaipared with a direct proiiiife from the word ot God.
This
136 On the Importance of
This is r,n anchor to thsj^jul boih/ure and Jledjafl, This has given
confolation and refuge to many a virtuous heart, at a time when
the moll cogent reafonings would have proved utterly unavailing.
Upon the approach of death, efpecially when, if a man thinks
at all, his anxiety about his future interefts niuft naturally in-
creafe, the power of religious confolation is fenfibly felt. Then
appears, in the mod ftriking light, the high value of the difcove-
ries made by the Gofpel ; not only life and iminortality revealed,
but a Mediator with God difcovered ; mercy proclaimed, through
him, to the frailties of the penitent and the humble; and bis pre-
fence promifed to be with them when they are paffing through the
valiey of iheJJwdow of death, in order to bring them fafe into un-
feen habitations of reft and joy. Here is ground for their leaving
the world with comfort and peace. Eutin this fevere and trying
period, this labouring hour of nature, how (liall the unhappy man
fupport hirnfelf, who knows not, or believes not, the difcoveries
of religion ? Secretly confcious to himfeif that he has not acled
his part as he ought to have done, the fins of his paft life arife
before him in fad remembrance. He wiflies to exift after death,
arid yet dreads that exiftence. The Governour of the world is
unknown. He cannot tell wheth^^r every endeavour to obtain
his mercy may not be vain. All is awful obfeurity around him ;
and in the midft of endlefs doubtsand perplexities, the trembling,
reluclant foul is forced away from the body. As the misfortunes
of life muft, to fuch a man, have been moft opprefTive, fo its end
is better. His fun fets in a dark cloud ; and the night of death
clofes over his head, full of mifery. — Having now fliewn how'
important the knowledge of the Lord is, both to the improvement
and the confolation of man, confidered as an individual, I am
next to fiiew,
II, How important this knowledge is to him as a member of
fociety. This branch of the fubjeft is in part anticipated by what
has been faid. For all the improvement which man receives as
an individual, redounds to the benefit of the public. Society
reaps the fruit of the virtuous of all the members who compole
it ; and in proportion as each, apart, is made better, the whole
iimCt flour ifh.
But
Religious Knoijuledge to Mankind, I j;
But befides this effed:, religious knowledge has a clirecl ten-
dency to improve the Ibcial intercourfe cf men, and to affift theiri
in co-operating for comnion good. It is the great i^iarnnient of
civilizing the multitude, and forming ihem to union. It tames
the fiercenefs of tlieir paiiions, and foftens the rudenefs of their
manners. There is much reafon to doubt whether zny reoujar
fociety ever fubfifted, or could fubfjli, in the world, deiUruie of
all religious ideas and principles. They who, in early times,
attempted to bring the wandering and fcattered tribes of men
from the woods, and to unite them in cities and comiiumiries,
always found it neceilary to begin with fume inUitution of reli-
gion. The wifeft legiHators of old, through the whole progrefs
of their fyftems of government, confidered religion as effentiai to
civil polity. If even thofe imperfea forms of it, loaded with fo
much fuperftition and errour, were important to the welfare of
fociety, how much more that reafonable woriliipof the true God,
which is taught by the Gofpel ? True religion introduces the
idea of regular fubjeclion, by accuftoming mankind to the awe of
fuperiour power in the Deity, joined with the veneration of fu-
periour wifdom and goodnefs. It is by its nature an alTociating
principle ; and creates new and facred bonds of union among men.
Common aflemblies for religious wodhip, and joint homage offer-
ed up to one God ; the fenfe of being all dependent on the faiiie
protedion, and bound to duty by the fame ties, Iharers in the
fame benefits of heaven, and expedtants of the fame reward
tend to awaken the fentiments of friendly relation, and to con '
firm and firengthen our mutual connexion. The doftrine of
Chriftianity is moft adverfe to all tyranny and opprefiion, but
highly favourable to the interefts of good government among
men. It reprefles the fpirit of licentioulnefs and fedition. It
inculcates the duty of fubordination to lawful fuperiours. It re-
quires us to fear Cod, to honour the king, and not to meddle with
them that are given to change.
Religious knowledge forwards all ufeful and ornamental im-
provements in fociety. Experience (hows, that, in proportioa
as it diffufes its light, learning flouriHies, and liberal arts are cul-
tivated and advanced. Juft conceptions of religion promote a
free and manly fpirir. They lead men to think for themfelves;
ts
T38 On ihe Imparlance of
to form their principles upon fair enquiry, and net to refign their
confeience to the dictates of men. Hence they naturally infpire
averfion to flavery of every kind ; and promote a talle for liber-
ty aF:d hws. Defpotic governments have ge;ierally taken the
firmeft root air.ong nations that where blinded by Mahometan or
Pa^an darkntfs ; where the throne of violence has been fupport-
ed by ignorance and falfe religion. In the Chriftian world, dur-
ing thole centuries in which grols fuperitiiiun held its reign un-
difturbed, cpprelTion and flavery v.ere in its train. The cloud of
ignorance fat thick and deep over tlie nations; and the world
v/as threatened with a relapfe into ancient barbarity. As foon
as the true knowledge of the Lord revived, at the aufpicious sra of
the Retormation, learning, liberty, and arts, began to lliine
forth with it, and to relume their luftre.
But the happy influence which religion exerts on fociety, ex-
tends much farther than to etFecls of this kind. It is not only
fubfidiary to the improvement, but neceffary to the prefervation
of fociety. It is the very bafis on which it refts. Religious prin-
ciple is what gives men the fureft hold of one another. That
laft and greatefl pledge of v^eracity, an oath, without which no
fociety could fubfifr, derives its whole authority from an efta-
bliilied reverence of God, to whom it is a folemn appeal. Ba-
nilh religious principle, and ycu loofen all the bonds which con-
red: mankind together ; you (hake the fundamental pillar of mu-
tual confidence and trufl ; you render the fecurity arifing from
laws, in a great meafure,' void and i-nefTeflual. For human laws,
and human i'ancl'ons, cannot extend to nuniberlefs cafes, in which
the fafety of mankind is deeply concerned. They would prove
very feeble inftruments of order and peace, if there were no checks
upon the conduct of men from the fenfe of divine legiflation ;
if no belief of future rewards and punifliments were to overawe
confeience, and to fupi>Iy 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 <Ji a man famous,
without rendering his character truly honourable. To many brave
men, to many heroes renowned in ftory, we louk up with won-
kier. Their exploits are recorded. i heir praifes are fung.
They fiand as on an eminence above the lett of mankind. 1 heir
Piiiiiience, neverthelefs, ntay not be of that lort before vvhich
we bow with invvard eitc^ein and refpecl. Something more is
wanted for that purpoie than the conqueiing arm and the intre-
pid mind, llie laurels of tije warrior nuiit at all times be dy-
ed in blood, and bedewed vviih the tears of the widow and the
orphan. But if they have been Ilained by rapine and inhuniani-
ty ; if fordid avarice has marked his ciiaracter ; or low and grofs
ienfualiry lias degraded his life ; the great htj-o links into a little
man. — What at a diitaiice, or on a luperhcial view we admired,
becomes mean, perhaps odious, when we examine it more clofe-
ly. It is like the Coloflal fiatue, whole imnjenfe fize flnick the
fpeclator afar elf with aftonifliment ; but when nearly viewed, it
appears difproportioned, unihapcly and I'Cidc.
OBsr.ilVATi02\S of the fame kind may be applied to all the re-
putation derived from civil accomplilhiiitnti ; from the relined
politics of the itateiman ; or the literary eifbrts of genius and e-
rudiiion. Thefe beftow, and, within certain bounds, ought to
bellow, eminence and diilindtion on men. They difcover talciits
which in ihemfelves are lliining ; and whidi become highly va-
luable
of Man, 145.
liKiblt?, when employed in advancing the gooA of mankind,.
Hence they frequently give rife to fame. Eur a dillinc^ion is ro
be made between fime nnd true honour. The former is a loud-
and noify applaufe : The latter, a more filenc and internnl ho-
mage. Fame floats on the breath of the multitude : Honour reds on
the judgment of the thinking. Fame njyy give praifc while i'j
with-holdsefteem : True honour implies eltcem mingled with rc-
fpe(5t. The on.e regards particular dillinguifiied talents : The o-
ther looks up to the whole charader. Hence the (latefmTn, the
orator, or the poet, may be famous; while yet the man himfclf
is far from bei'ng honoured, "We envy his abilities. We wif]} to-
rival them. But we would not chufe to be clafTed with him who
polll'ilcd them. Inihnices of this fort are too often found in eve-
ry record of ancient or modern hiilory.
From all this it follows, that in order to difcern where man's
true honours lie, we mufl look, not to any adventitious circum-
Ibnce of fortune % not to any fingle fparkling quality -, but to tlie
whole of what forms a man ; what in titles him, as fuch, to
rank high among that ciafs of beings to which he belongs; in a
word, we muft look to the mind and tlie foul, A niind fu-
perior to fear, to felfiHi intereft and rcrruption ; a mind go-
verned by the principles of uniform reclitude and integrity ; the
fame in profperiry and sdverfity ; which no bribe ca-n feduce,
nor terror overawe; neither by pleafure melted into effeminacy^
nor by diffrefs funk into dejediion ; fuch is tlie mind which forms
the ditlindlion and en7inence of man. One, v. lio in no fituation
of life is either afliamed or afraid of difcharging his dufy, and ac"t-
ing his proper part with firmnefs and conilarcy ; true t»uhe God
whom he worfhips, and true to the faith in whicli he profefTes to
believe; full cf affection to his brethren of mankind ; faithful tcv
his friends, generous to his enemies, warm with compaflion ta
the unfortunate; felf-denying to little private interefls and plea-
fures, but zealous for public interefl and hanpinefs; magnanimoiis
without being proud ; hun^ble without being mean ; juil: without
being harfh ; fmiple in his manners, but manly in his feelings-
on v\ hole word you can entirely rely ; whofe countenance never
(leceivcs you ; whofe profeffions of kindneis are the effufions of:
his
146 On the True Honour
his heart: One, in fine, whom independent of any views of scJ-
vancage, you would chufe for a fuperiour, could truft in as a
friend, and could iove as a brother: This is the man, \\hcm^
in your heart, above all others, you do, you muft, honour.
Such a characlcr, iinperfeclly as it has now been drawn, all
mun acknowledge to be formed folely by the influence of fteady
relio-ion and virtue. It is the eflfct of principles which, operat-
ino- on confcisnce, determine it uniformly to purfue whatfotver
things are iriiSj wbatfoevdr things are hmefl, whatfoever things are
jujQf i&jhatfoever things are pure, whatfotver things pre lovely y what'
focver thijigs are of good report^ if there he any virtue, and if there
be any traife* By thefe means, wijdom, as the text alTerts, bring-
eth us to hciiour.
In confirmation of this doctrine it is to be obferved, that the
honour which man acquires by religion and virtue is more inde-
pendent, and more complete, than v.'hat can be acquired by any
other means. \x. is independent of any thing foreign or external-
It is not partial, but entire refpecl, which it procures. Where-
ever fortune is concerned, it is the ftation or rank which com.-
uiands our deference. Where fome fliining quality attracts ad-
miration, it is only to a part of the charader that we pay homage.
But when a perfon is difringuirned for eminent worth and good-
nefs, it is the man, the whole man, v;l:om v^e refpecl. The ho-
nour which he poiufies is intrinfic. Place him in any lituaiion of
life, even an obfcure one; let room only be given for his virtues
to come forth and Ihow themfelves, and you Vvill revere him ; as
a private citizen ; or as the father of a family. If in higher life
he appear more iHuflrious, this is not owing merely to the refped
created by rank. It i?, becaufe t'nere a nobler fphere of action
is opened to him; becaufe his virtues ?.re brought forth into
luore extended exertion ; and placed in fuch conrpicuous view,
that he appears to grace and adorn the (Nation which he fills. E-
ven in the fjience of retirement, or in the retreat of old age,
fuch a man finks not into for;^-o:tcn cbfcurity. His remembered
virtues coiiinue to be honoured, when ihcir a^iive excriions are
over;
* Philip, iv. 8.
^Ver ; and to the lad ftage of life he is followed by public cfteerri
ami relpedt. Whereas, if genuine worth be wanting, the ap-
plaiife which may have attended a man for a while, by degrees
dies away. Though, for a part of his life, he had dazzled the
World, this was owing to his deficiency in the elTential qualities
having not been fufpeded. As loon as the impoltot* is difco-
vered, the falling ftar finks in darknefs.-^There is therefore a
ftandard of independent, inrrinfic worth, to which we mult bring
in the end whatever claims to be honourable among men. By
this we muft mealure it ; and it will always be found, that no-
thing but what is effential to rnaii^ has power to command the
refpeft of man's heart;
It is to be farther obferved, that the liniverfal confent of man*
kind in honouring real virtue, is fufRcicnt to Ihow that the ge-
nuine fenfe of human nature is on this fubjedl. All other claims
C)f honour are ambulatory and changeable. The degrees of rc-
fpect paid to external ftations vary with foi-ms of government,
and falhidns oi the times; Qualities which in one country are
highly honoured, iii another are lightly cftecmed. Nay, what
in fome regions of the earth diftinguiihes a man aboVc others,
might elfewhere expofe him to coritempt or ridicule. But where
was ever the nation on the face of the globe, who did not ho-
nour unblemiflied Worth, unaffedted piety, fledfalt, humane, anJ
regular virtue? To whom were altars ereded in the Heathen
world^ but to thofe who by their merits and heroic labours, by
their invention of ufeful arts, or by fbme fignal ads of benefi-
cence to their country, or to mankind, were found worthy, iii
their opinion, to be transferred from among men, and added to
the number of the gods?— ^— Even the counterfeited appearances
of virtue, which are (o often found in the world, are teflimoni-
ous to its praife. The hypocrite knows that, without afluiiiing
the garb of virtue, every other advantage he can poflefs is infuf-
ficient to procure him efteem. Interference of intereft, or per-
verfity of difpofition, may occafionally lead individuals to oppofe^
even to hate, the upright and the good. But however the cha*
raclersof fach perlbns may be miflaken, or mifreprelented, yet,
as far as they are acknowledged to be virtuous, the profligate
8i.irc not traduce them. Genuine virtus has a language that fpea.U
14.8 On the True Honour
to every heart throughout the. world. It is a language which rs
iinderflood by all. In every region, every clime, the homage
paid to it is the fame. In no one fcntiment were ever mankind
more generally agreed.
Finally, the honour acquired by religion and virtue is ho-
nour divine and immortal. It is honour, not in the eftimation of
men only, but in the tight of Cod ; whofe judgment is the (land-
ard of truth and right ; whofe approbation confers a crown of
glory that fadeth fiot away. All the honour we can gain among
men is limited and confined. Its circle is narrow. Its duration
is fliort and tranfitory. But the honour which is founded on true
goodnefs, accompanies us through the whole progrefs of our ex-
igence. It enters with man into a future ftate ; and continues
to brighten throughout eternal ages. What procured him re-
fpe£l on earth, fhall render him eftimablc among the great af-
fembly of angels, and fpirlts of jufi men made perfe^ ; where,
we arcaffurcd, they who have been eminent in righteoufncfs fliall
Jhine as the krighinefs ef the firmament, and as the pars for ever
and ever,* Earthly honours are both fliort-lived in their conti-
nuance, and, while they laft, tarniflied with fpots and ftains. On
fome quarter or other, their brightnefs is obfcured ; their exal-
tation is humbled. But the honour which pi^ceeds from God,
and virtue, is unmixed and pure. It is a luftre vv'hich is derived
from heaven ; and is likened, in fcripture, to the light of the
morning , when the fun rifeth ; even a m.ormvg without clouds ; to
the light which fiineth more and more unto the per fe 61 day.f Where-
as the honours which the world confers refemble the feeble and
twinkling flame of a taper; which is often clouded by the fmoke it
fends forth; is always wafting; and foon dies totally away.
Let him, therefore, who retains any fenfe of human dignity ;
who feels within him that defire of honour which is congenial to
man, alpire to the gratification of this paflion by methods which
are worthy of his nature. Let him not reft on any of thofe ex-
ternal diftinftions which vanity has contrived to introduce, Thefe
can procure him no more than the femblance of refped. — Let
him not be flattered by the apphufe which fome occafional dif-
play of abilities may have gained him, — That anplaufe may be
mingled
* Daniel xi'u 3. f 2 Sam. xxii. 4. Prov. iv. i8.
of Man, j^^
mingled with contempt. Let him look to what will dignify his
charaaer as a man. Let him cultivate thofe moral qualities
which all men in their hearts refped. Wifdom fhall then g\ve to
his head an ornament of grace; a crown of gkry fhall Jhe deliver
to him. This is an honour to which all may afpire. It is a prize
for which every one, whether of high or low rank, may con!
tend. It is always in his power fo to diftinguiOi himfelf by wor-
thy and virtuous conduft, as to command the refpea of thofe a-
roundhim; and, what is higheft of all, to obtain praife and ho-
nour from God.
Let no one imagine that in the religious part of this charadler
there is any thing which cafts over it a gloomy fliade, or dero-
gates from that efteem which men are generally difpofed to yield
to exemplary virtues. Falfe ideas may beente^ained of religion -
as falfe and imperfeft cmiceptions of virtue Jiave often prevailed
in the world. But to true religion there belongs no fullen gloom -
no melancholy aufterity, tending to withdraw men from human
fociety, or to diminiOi the exertions of adive virtue. Onthecon-
trary, the religious principle, rightly underftood, not only unites
with all fuch virtues, but fupports, fortifies, and confirms them.
It IS fo far from obfcuring the luftre of a character, that it height-
ens and ennobles it. It adds to all the moral virtues a venerable
and authoritative dignity. It renders the virtuous charafler
more auguft. To the decorations of a palace, it joins the majefty
of a temple. -^ ^
He who divides religion from virtue, underftands neither the
one, nor the other. It is the union of the two which confum-
mates the hu,n,„ character and Ibte. It is their union which has
d.ft.ngu,lhed thofe great and illuftrious men, who have ftone with
io much honour in former ages; and whofe memory lives in the
rememhrance of f„cceeding generations Ic is their union
^vh.ch forms that wifdom ^hich h from abov. ; that wifdom to
wh>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 fatisfa<!lion to others. Often it is in his power, in one way or
other, to fcoih the afflicted heart; to carry feme confolaticn into
the houfe of woe. In the fcenes of ordinary life, in the domeftic
and fecial intercourfes of man, the cordiality of his affedions chears
and gladdens him. Every appearance, every defcription of innocent
happinefs is enjoyed by him. Every native expreflion of kindnefs
and afFedion among others is felt by him, even though he be not
the objecT: of it. Among a circle of friends, enjoying one another,
he is as happy as the happieft. In a word, he lives in a different
fort of world from what the felfifh man inhabits. — He pcilefles a
new fenfe, which enables him to behold cbjecls which the felfifli
cannot fee. At the fame time, his enjoyments are not of that
kind which remain merely on the furface of the mind. They pe-
jietrare the heart. They enlarge and elevate, they refine and
ennoble it. To all the pleafing emotions of affedion, they add
the dignified confcioufnefs of virtue. Chilclren of men ! Men form-
ed by nature to live and to feel as brethren ! How long will ye
continue to eP.range ycurlelves from one another by competitions
and jealoufies, when in cordial union ye might be fo much more
blefl? How long will ye feek your happinefs in felfifii gratifications
alonCj negle^ling thofe purer and better fources of joy, which flow
from the affedtions and the heart?
Having now explained the nature, and fiiown the value and
high advantages of true fenfibiliiy, I proceed to point out fome
of the niiftaken forms, and abufes of this virtue. In modern
limes.
On Senfihiltty, jcj
times, the chief improvement of which we have to boaft, is a
fenfe of humanity. This, notwithftanding the felfifliners that
ftill prevails, is the favourite and diftinguifliing virtue of the age.
On general manners, and op feveral departments of fociety, it has
had confiderable influence. It has abated the fpirit of perfecution :
It has even tempered the horrors of war ; and man is now more a-
flnmedthan he was in fome former ages, of adingasa favage toman.
Hence, fenfibih'ty has become (o reputable a quaUty, that the appear*
ance of it is frequently aflumed when the reality is wanting. Soft-
nefs of manners mull not be miilaken for true fenfibility, Senfi-
bility indeed tends to produce gentlenefs in behaviour; and when
fuch behaviour flows from native afFedion, it is valuable and ami-
able. But the exterior manner alone may be learned in the fchool
of the world ; and often, too often, is found to cover much un-
feeling hardnefs of heart. ProfefTions of fenfibility on every tri-
fling occafion, joined with the appearance of exceflive foftnefs,
and a profufion of fentimcntal language, afford always much
ground for diftrufl. They create the fufpicion of a fludied cha-
racter. Frequently, under a negligent and feemingly rough man-
ner, there lies a tender and feeling heart. Manlincfs and fenfi-
bility are fo far from being incompatible, that the truly brave
are, for the mofl: part, generous and humane ; while the f oft and
effeminate are hardly capable of any vigorous exertion of affedion.
As fenfibility fuppofes delicacy of feeling with refpecl to others,
they who aifed the higheft fenfibility are apt to carry this delica-
cy to excsfs. They are, perhaps, not incapable of the warmth
of difinterefled friendfhip ; but they are become ^o refined in all
their fenfations; they entertain fuch high notions of what ought
to correfpond in the feelings of others to their own ; they are fo
mightily hurt by every thing whi.:h comes not up to their ideal
flandard of reciprocal affection, as to produce difquiet and uneafi.
nefs to all with whom they are conneded. Hence, unjufl fufpici-
ons of their friends ; hence, groundlefs upbraidings, and com-
plaints of unkindnefs ; hence, a pronenefs to take violent offence
at trifles. In confeqnence of examining their friends with a mi-
crofcopic eye, what to an ordinary obferver would not be unpleaf-
ing, to them is grating and difgufting. At the bottom of the
character of fuch perfons there always lie much pride, and atten-
tion to themfelves. This is indeed a falle fpecies cf fenfibility.
I:
158 Cn SenfibilUy.
It is tlic fubftltution of a capricious and irritable delicacy, in the
room of that plain and nntive tendernefs of heart, which prompts
men to view others with indulgent eye, and to make great allow-
ances for the imperfeitlons which are li)metimes adherent to the
mod amiable qualities.
Tiierc are others who affect not fenfibility to this extreme, bu^
who found high claims to themfelves upon the degree of intereft
which they take in the concerns of others. Although their fen-
fibility can produce no benefit to the perfon who is its objed, they
always conceive that it entitles themfelves to Tome profitable returns.
Thefe, often, are perfons of refined and artful charader ; who
partly deceive themfelves, and partly employ their fenfibility as a
cover to intereft. He who acts from genuine affection, when he
is feeling along with others in their joys or forrows, thinks not
of any recompence to which this gives him a title. He follows
the impulfe of his heart He obeys the dictate of his nature ; juft
as the vine by its nature produces fruit, and the fountain pours
forth its ftreams. Wherever views of intereft, and profpe6ls of
return, mingle with the feelings of aiTedion, fenfibility ads an im-
perfect part, and entitles us to fmall {bare of praife.
But fuppofing it to be both complete and pure, I mufc caution
you againft reding the whole merit of your charader on fenfibility
alone. It is indeed a happy confliiution of mind. It fits men for
the proper difcharge of many duties, and gives them accefs to ma-
ry virtuous pleafures. It is requifite for our acceptance either
\%'ith God or man. At the fame time, if it remain an inftindive
feeling alone, it will form no more than an imperfecl characTier.
Complete virtue is of a more exalted and digniiied nature. It fup-
pofcs fenfibility, good temper, and benevolent affedions : It in-
cludes them as efiential parts ; but it reaches farther : It fuppofes
them to be ftrengthened and confirmed by principle ; it requires
them to be fupported by juftice, temperance, fortitude, and all
thofe other virtues which enable us to ad with propriety, in the
trying fituations of life.
It is very poffible for a man to pofTefs the kind aftedions in a
Ifigh degree, while, at the fame time, he h carried awr.y by paf.
fion and pleafure into many criminal deeds. Almoft every man va-
lues himfelf on poffeffing virtue in one or other of its terms. He
\,viihes to lay claim to lome quality which will render him ePiim^'
able
On Scnfibiliiy. irg
l)Je in his own eye, as well as that of tlie public. Heoce, it is
common for many, efpecially for thofe in the higher clalTes of
Jife, to take much praife to themfelves on account of their fenfi-
bility, though it be, in truth, a fenfibility of a very clefeclive kind.
They relent at the view of mifery when it is flronaly fet before
them. Often too, afFeded chiefly by the powers of defcription, it is
at feigned and pidured diitrefs, more than at real mifery that they
relent. The tears which they flied upon thefe occafions they con-
fider as undoubted proofs of virtue. They applaud themfelves
for the goodnefs of their hearts ; and conclude that with fuch feeU
ings they cannot fail to be agreeable to Heaven.— At the fame
time, thefe tranfient relentings make (light imprenions on their
conduft. They give rife to few, if good deeds; and foon after
fuch perfons have wept at fome tragical tale, they are ready to
ftretch forth the hand of opprellion, to grafp at the gain of injuf-
tice, or to plunge into the torrent of criminal pleafures. This fori:
of fenfibility affords no more than a fallacious claim to virtue, and
gives men no ground to think highly of themfelves. We muft
enquire not merely how they feel, but how their feelings prompt
them to a6l, in order to afcertain their real character.
I SHALL conclude with obferving, that fenfibility, when genu-
ine and pure, has a ftrong connexion with piety. That warmth
of affedlion, and tendernefs of heart, which lead men to feel for
their brethren, and to enter into their joys and forrows, ihould
naturally difpofe them to melt at the remembrance of the divine
goodnefs; to glow with admiration of the divine majeOy ; to
lend up the voice of praife and adoration to that Supreme Being
who makes his creatures happy. He who pretends to great fenfi.
bility towards men, and yet has no feeling for the high objeds of
religion, no heart to admire and adore the great Father of the u-
niverfe, has reafon to diftruft the truth and delicacy of his fenfi-
bility. He has reafon to fufpec% that in fome corner of his heart
there lodges a fecret depravity, an unnatural hardnefs and callouf-
nefs, which vitiates his charaaer.—Let us ftudy to join all the
parts of virtue in proper union ; to be confidently and uniformly
good ; JLhI and upright, as well as pitiful and courteous ; pious, as
well as fympathifmg. Let us pray to him who made the hearty
that he would fill it with all proper difpofitions; reftif; all its er-
rors ; and render it the happy abode of perfonal integrity and io-
£!al tendernefs^ of purity, benevolence, and devotion.
[ i6o ]
SERMON XXXIIL
On the Lmprovement of Time.
Genesis xlvii. 8.
And Pharaoh fa'id unto Jacob, Hovj old art ihou ?
TIME is of lb gre:it importance to mankind, that it canno':
too often employ religious meditation. There is nothing in
the management of which 'vifdom is more requifite, or where
mankind difplay their inconfiftency more. In its particular par-
cels, they appear entirely carelefs of it; and throw it awny with
thoughtlefs profufion. But when colle«^cd into fome of its great
portions, and viewed as the meafure of their continuance in life,
they become fenfible of its value, and begin to regard it with a
ferious eye. While clay after day is wafted in a courfe of idle-
nefs or vicious pleafures, if fume incident (hall occur which leads
the moft inconfiderate man to think of his a?re, or time of life ;
how much of it is gone ; at what period of it he is now arrived ;
and to what proportion of it he can with any probability look for-
ward as yet to come ; he can hardly avoid feeling fome fecre: com-
punction, and reflecting feria'afly upon his itate. Happy, if that
virtuous impreifion were not or momentary continuance, but re-
tained its influence amidil the fucceeding cares and pieafures of
the world! To the good old Patriarch mentioned in the text we
have reafon to believe that fuch impreflions were habitual. The
quefl:ion put to him by the Egyptian monarch produced, in his
anfwer, fuch refleclions as were nalurally i'uited to his time of life,
And Jacob fald unto Pharaoh y the dayi of the year J of my pilgrimage
are an hundred and thirty years : few and evil have the dnys of the
years 0/ my life been^ and have ndt attained unto the days of the years
of ike life of my fathers J in the day^ of their pilgrimage. But the
peculiar
Cn the Iniprovc-meni of Time, ' l6t
peculiar circuniftance; cf the Patriarch, or the number of his years,
are not to be the fbbj€(^ of our prcTent confideraticn. My pur-
pole is, to fliow how we flioukl be affeded in every period of hu-
man life, by reflediion upon our age, whether we be young, or
advanced in years; in order that the qucAion, Hoiv old art thou?
may never be put to any of us without fome good effed. There
are three different portions of our life which fuch a queftion na-
turally calls to view; that part of it which is pafi: ; that which is
now prefent ; and that to which we fondly look forward as fu-
ture. Let us confider in what manner we ought to be affedled
by attending to each of thefe,
I. Let us review that part of our time which is pad. — According
to the progrefs which we have made in the journey of life, the field
which paft years prefent to our review will be more or lefs extenfive.
But to every one they will be found toafTord iufEcient matter of humi-
liation and regret. For where is the perfon, who having acled for
any time in the world, remembers not many errors and many follies,
paft behaviour? Who dares to fay, that he has improved, as he
might have done, the various advantages which were afforded
him ; and that he recalls nothing for which he has reafon either to
grieve, or to blufn? When we recoiled tke feveral ftages of
life through which we have pafTed ; the fuccefTive occupations in
which we have been engaged, thedefigns we have formed, and the
hopes and fears which alternately have filled our breail ; how bar-
ren for mofl part is the remembrance ; and how few traces of
any thing valuable or important remain ? Like charaders drawn on
the fand, which the next wave waflies totally away, fo one trivial
fuccefHon of events has effaced the memory of the preceding; and
though we have feemed all along to be bufy, yet for much of what
we have adled, we are neither wifer nor better than if fuch actions
had never been. Hence, let the reirofpedt of what is pafl pro-
duce, as its lirft effect, humiliation in our own eyes, and abafement
before God. Much do human pride and felf-complacency require
fome corredion ; and that corredion is never more effeciually ad-
miniftered, than by an impartial and ferious review of former life. •
But though pafl time be gone, we are not to confider it as Ir-
redeemably loO-. To a very prcfitnble purpofe it may yet be ap-
plied; if we l?y hold of it v.hile it remains in remembrance, and
^ oblige
i62 r« the iniprovcment of Tin:e,
oblige it to ccrtribute lo future improverncnr. If you have gaih'*
ed nothing mere by the years that are pall, you have at leaftgain^
<£A experience ; and experience is the mother of wifdom. Yoit
have feen the weak parts of your charadtr; and may have difco-
vered the chief fources of your mifconduct. To thefe let your at-
tention be directed ; on thefe, let the proper guards be fet. If
you have trifieil long, refolve to trifle no more. If your palfions
have often betrayed and degraded ycu, fludy how they ujay be
Iiept, in future^ under better dilcipline. Learn, at the fame time,
never to iruit prefumptuouily in your own wifdom. Humbly ap-
ply to the Author of your being, and befeech his grace to guide
you fafely throu'Th thofe fiippery and dangerous paths, in vhich
experience has fliown that you are fo ready to err, and to fall.
In reviewing paft life, it cannot but occur, that many things
now appear of inconfidcrable importance, which once occupied and
attached U3, in the hightil degree. Where are thofe keen com-
petitions, thofe mortifying difappointments, thole violent ennfities,
thofe eager purfuits, v.hichue or.ce thought were to laft fcre\er,
2nd on which w^e confidered our whole happinefs or mifery as fuf-
pended ? We look back upon them now, as upon a dream which
has palled awav. None of thofe mighty confequences have fol-
lowed which we had predicted. The airy fabrick has vanilhed,
and left no trace behind it. We fmile at our former violence ;
and wonder how fuch things could have ever appeared fo llgnifi-
rant and great. We may refl alfnred, that what hath been, fliall
again be. When Time fnall once have laid his lenient hand on
the pafTions and purfuits of the prcfent moment, they too fliall
lofe that imaginary value wliich heated fancy now beftows upon
them. Hence, let them already begin to fubfule to their proper
level. Let wifdom infufe a tincture of moderation into the ea-
gernefs of contell, by anticipating that period of coolncfs, which
the lapfe of time will, of itfelf, certainly bring. When we look
back on years liiat are pad, how fwiftly do they appear to have
Heetcd away? How infenfibly has one period of life llolen upon
VIS after another, like the fucccflive incidents in a tale that is tclJ P
Before we w ere aware, childhood had grown up into youth ; youth
liad palTed into manhood ; and manhood now, perhaps, begins to
af7unx the gj-Fv iiair, and to decline into old age. When we are
carry ing
On the Imprmement of Time. 1 63
carrying our views forward, months and years to come feem 10
ftretch thro'7gh a long and extenfive fpace. But when the time
fliall arrive of our looking back, they fliall appear contracted with-
in narrow bounds. Time, when yet before us, feeras to advance
with flov/ and tardy fteps; no fooner is it paft, than we difcern
its wings.
It is a remarkable peculiarity in the retrofpeft of former life,
that it is commonly attended with fome meafure of heavinefs ot
heart. Even to the moft profperous, the memory of joys that
are paft is accompanied with fecret forrow. In the days of former
years, many objects arife to view, which make the moft unthinking,
grave; and render the ferious, fad. The pleafurable fcenes of
youth, the objeds on which our affedions had been early placed,
the companions and friends with whom we had fpent many happy-
days, even the places and the occupations to which we had been
long accuftomed, but to which we have now bid farewel, can hardly
ever be recalled, without fottening, nor fometimes, without pierc-
ing, the heart. Such fenfations, to which few, if any, of my hearers,
are wholly ftrangers, I now mention, as affording a ftrong proof
of that vanity of the human ftate, which is fo often reprefented
in the facred writings : And vain indeed mufl that (late be, where
iliades of grief tinge the recoUedion of its brighteli fcenes. But,
at the fame time, though it be very proper that fuch meditations
ihould fometimes enter the mind, yet on them 1 advife not the gen-
tle and tender heart to dwell too long. They are apt to produce
a fruitlefs melancholy; to dejed:, without bringing much im-
provement ; to thicken the gloom which already hangs over hu-
man life, without furnifliing proportionable afliitance to virtue.
Let me advife you, rather to recall to view fuch parts of for-
mer conduft, if any fuch there be, as afford in the remembrance
a rational fatisfadion. And what parts of condud are thefe? Are
they the purfuits of fenfual pleafure, the riots of jollity, or the
difplays of fliow and vanity ? No ; I appeal to your hearts, my
friends, if what you recollect with moft pleafure be not the in-
nocent, the virtuous, the honourable parts of your paft life; when
you were employed in cultivating your minds, and improving
them with ufeful knowledge; vhen, by regular application and
perfevering labour, you were laying the foundatio;! of future r^
-U ' gutation
j/)4 ^« '^^^ 7mp7'0vemeni of Time,
putation and advancement ; when you were occupied in difcharg-
ing with fidelity the duties of your flation, and acquiring the ef-
teem of the worthy and the good ; when in fome trying fituation
you were enabled to ad: your part w ith firmnefs and honour ; or
had feized the happy opportunity of afliftingthe delcrving, of re-
lieving the diftreffed, and bringing down upon your heads the
blejf-vgs of thole that -were ready to pcriJJ?. Thefe, thefe are the
parts of former life which are recalled with nioft fatisfadion ! On
them alone, no heavinefs of heart attends. You enjoy them as a
treafure which is now ftored up, and put beyond all danger of be-
ino- lolt, Thefe chear the hours of fadnefs, lighten the burden
of old age, and, through the moitifyiiig remembrance of much
of the pail, dart a ray of light and joy. From the review of
thefe, and the comparifon of them with the deceitful pleafures of
fm, let us learn how to form our eftimate of happinefs. Let us learn
what is true, w'hat is falfe, in human pleafures ; and from expe-
rience of the paft, judge of the quarter to which we muft in fu-
ture turn, if we would lay a foundation for permanent fatisfadion.
After having thus reviewed the former years of our life, let us
confider,
II. What attention is due to that period of age in which we
are at prefent placed. Here lies the immediate and principal ob-
ject of our concern. For the recolledlion of the pad is only as
far of moment, as it aOs upon the prefent. The pail, to us now
is little; the future, as yet, is nothing. Between thefe two great
gulphs of time fubfiilsthe prefent, as an ifthmus or bridge, along
which we are all pafhng. With hafly and inconfiderate iteps let us
not pais along it ; but remember well, how m.uch depends upon our
lioldjpg a fteady, and properly conducted courfe. JVkatfoever thine
handfindeth to doy do it now with all thy might ; for now is the accept-
ed time ; now is the day of Salvation, Many diredions might be
given for the wile and religious improvement of the prefent ; a
few of which only I fliall hint.
Lkt us begin with excluding thofe fuperfluous avocations which
unpiofiiabiy confume it. Life is il^ort ; much that is of real im-
portance resiiains to be done. If we fuffer the prefent time to be
wafi-ed either in abfolute idlencfs, or in frivolous en^plcyments, it will
Jiereaftcr call for vengeance againll us. Removing therefore what
is
On the Improvement of Time, i6"5
is merely fuperfluons, let us bethink ourfelvesof what ismoft ma-
terial t© be attended to at prefent : As, firft and chief, the great
work of our falvation ; the difcharge of the religious duties which
we owe to God our Creator, and to Chrift our liedeemer. Cod wait-
eth 2S yet to he gracious ; whether he will wait longer, none of us
can tell. Now, therefore, feek the Lord while he may be founds callup*
on him while he is near. Our fpiritual interefts will be beft promoted
by regular performance of all the duties of ordinary life. Let thefe^
therefore, occupy a great fliare of the prefent hour. Whatever
our age, our character, our profefTion, or llation in the world,
requires us to do, in that let each revolving day find us bufy.
Never delay till to-morrow what reafon and confcience tell you
ought to be performed to-day. To-morrow is not yours; and
though you fhould live to enjoy it, you muft not overload it with
a burden not its own. Sufficient for the day wiil prove the duty,
thereof.
The obfervance of order and method, is of high confequence
for the improvement of prefent time. He who performs every
employment in its due place and feafon, fuffers no part of time to
'efcaps without profit. He multiplies his days; for he lives much
in little fpace. Whereas he who neglects order in the arrange-
ment of his occupations, is always lofing the prefent in returning
upon the pad, and trying, in vain, to recover it when gone. Lee
me advife you frequently to make the prefent employment of time
an objed of thought. AGc yourfelves, about what are you now
bufied ? What is the ultimate fcope of your prefent purfuits and
cares? Canyoujuftify them to yourfelves? Are they likely to pro-
duce any thing that will furvive the moment, and bring forth fome
fruit for futurity ? He who can give no faiisfa61:ory anfwer to fuch
queftions as ihefe, has reafon to fufpeft that his employment of
the prefent is not tending either to his advantage, or his honour.
Finally, let me admoniili you, that while you Andy to improve,
you fliouid endeavour alfo to enjoy the prefent hour. Let it not
be difturbed with groundlefs difcontents, or poifoned with foolilh
anxieties about what is to come : But look up to Heaven, and ac-
knowledge, with a grateful heart, the actual bleflings you enjoy.
If you mud admit, that you are now in health, peace, and fafety 9
without any particular or uncommon evils to afHicl your condition ;
what more can you reafonably look for in this vain and uncertain
world ?
1 66 On the Improvement of Time.
world? How little can the greatefl profperity add to fuch a (late?
Vv ill any future lunation ever make you happy, if now, v/ith fo
few caufes of grief, you imagine yourfelves miferable ? The evil
lies in theftate of your mind, not in your condition of fortune; and
by no alteration of cireumftances is likely to be remedied* Let
us now,
III. Consider with what difpoGtlons we ought to look for-
ward to thofe years of our life that may yet be to come. Mere-
ly to look forward to them, is what requires no admonition. Fu-
turity is the great objeft on which the imaginations of men are
en. ployed ; for the lake of which the paft is forgotten, and the
prefent too often neglected. All time is in a manner fwallowed
up by it. On futurity, men build their defigns ; on futurity,
tney reft their hopes ; and though not happy at the prefent, they
alv/ays reckon on becoming fo, at fome fubfequent period of their
lives. This propenfity to look forward, was for wife purpofes
implanted iri the human breaft. It ferves to give proper occupa-
tio .• to the active po^vers of the mind, and to quicken all its exer-
tions. But it is too often immoderately indulged, and grofsly a-
bu.cd. The curiofity which fometimes prompts perfons to enquire,
Ipy unlawful methods, into what is to come, is equally foolilh and
finful. Let us rettrain all defire of penetrating farther than is al-
lowed us, into that dark and unknown region. Futurity belongs
to God : And happy for us is that myftericus veil with which his
tvifdom has covered it. Were it in our power to lift up the
veil, and to behold what it conceals, many and many a thorn we
would plant in our breafts. The proper and rational conduct o^
men with regard to futurity, is regulated by two confiderations :
Firit, that much of what it contains, muft remain to us abfolutely
unknown ; next, that there are alfo fomc events in it which may
be certainly knov.'n and forefeen.
First, much of futurity is, and muft be, entirely unknown to us.
When v.e Ipeculatc about the continuance of our life, and the events
which are to fill it, we behold a river which is always flowing ; but
which foon efcapes out of our fight, and is covered with mift« and
darknefs. Some of its windings we may endeavour to trace ; but it
is only for a very fiiort way that we are able to purfue them. In
endlefs
On the Improvement of Time. 167
tsndlefs conje£lures we quickly find ourfelves bewildered ; and, of-
ten, the next event that happens baffles all the reafonings we had
formed concerning the fucceffion of events. The confcquence
which follows from this is, that all the anxiety about futurity, which
paiTes the bounds of reafonable precaution, is unprofitable and vain.
Certain mea lures are indeed neceflary to be taken for our fafety.
We are not to ruih forward inconfiderate and headlong. We
mull make, as far as we are able, provifion tor future welfare ;
and guard againft dangers which apparently threaten. But hav-
ing done this, we mull flop; and leave the refl to Him who dif-
pofeth of futurity at his will. He who fitteth in the heavens laughs
at the wifdom and the plans of worldly men. Wherefore hoaft
not thyfelf of to-morrow ; for thou knowejl not what a day may
bring forth. For the fame reafon, defpair not of to-morrow ; for
it may bring forth good as well as evil. Vex not yourfelves with
imaginary fears, The impending black cloud, to which you look
up with fo much dread, may pafs by harmlefs; or though it fhould
difcharge the florm, yet, before it breaks, you may be lodged in
that lonely manfion which no florms ever touch .
In the next place, there are in futurity fome events which maybe
certainly foreieen by us, through all its darknefs. Firfl, it may be
confidently predicted, that nofiiuation into which it will bring us,
fliall ever anfwer fully to our hopes, or confer perfedhappinefs. This
is as certain as if we already faw it, that life, in its future periods, will
continue to be whatit has heretofore been; that it will be a mixed
and varied flate ; a chequered fcene of pleafures and pains, of fugitive
joys and tranfient griefs, fucceeding in a round to one another.
Whether we look forward to the years of youth, or to thofe of man-
hood and advanced life, it is all the fame. The world will be to
us, what it has been to generations pafl. Set out, therefore, on
what remains of your journey under this perfuafion. According
to this meafure, eflimate your future pleafures; and calculate your
future gains* Carry always along with you a modefl and a tem-
perate mind. Let not your expeftations from the years that
are to come rife too high i and your difappointments will be few-
er, and more eafily fupported.
Farther; this may be reckoned upon ascertain, that in every
future fituation of life, a good confcience, a well-ordered mind,
and
l68 On the Improvement of Time.
and a humble trufl in the favour of Heaven, will prove the eflen-
tial incrredients of your ha^ipinefs. In reflecting upon the pafl:,
you have found this to hold. Allure yourfelves that in future, the
cafe will be the fame. The principal correctives of human vani-
ty and diftrefs, mnft be fought for in religion and virtue. Enter-
ing on paths which to you are new and unknown, place yourfelves
under the conduct of a divine guide. Follow the gve^itjhepherd
of Jfrael, who amidft the turmoil of this world, leads his flock
into green paftures, and hy theJJilUvaters, — As you advance in life,
ftudy to improve both in good principles, and in good pr^ftice. You
will be enabled to look to futurity without fear, if, >Ahatevcr 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 <?i;i/ coinmunkations gradually undermine, and at laft deftroy
good manners, or (which here is the proper fignification of the ori-
ginal word) good morals. It is indeed diiagreeable to contemplate
human nature, in this downward courfe of its progrefs. But it
is always profitable to know our own infirmities and dangers. The
confideration of them will lead me to luggell (ome of the means
proper to be ufed for preventing the mifchiefs arifing from evil
communications.
Agreeably to what I obferved of certain virtuous principles
being inherent in human nature, there are few but who fet out
at firlt on the world with good difpofitions. The warmth which
belongs to youth, naturally exerts itfelf in generous feelings and
fentiments of honour ; in flrong attachment to friends, and the
other emotions of a kind and tender heart. Almoft all the plans
with which perfons who have been liberally educated begin the
world, are connedied with honourable views. At that period,
they repudiate whatever is mean or bale. It is pleafing to them
to think, of commanding the efteem of thofe among whom they
live, and of acquiring a name among men. But alas ! how foon
does this flattering profped: begin to be overcaft. Defires of
pleafure uflier in temptation, and forward the growth of difor-
derly palTions. Minifters of vice are feldom wanting to encou^
rage, and flatter, the paffions of the young. Inferiors fludy to
creep into favor, by fervile obfequioufncfs to all their defires and
humours. — Glad to find any apology for the indulgences of which
they are fond, the young too readily liften to the voice of thofe
who fuggeft to them, that ftrift notions of religion, order, and
virtue, are old fafhioned and illiberal ; that the reftraints which
they impofe are only fit to be prefcribed to thofe who are in the
iirft flage of pupillage ; or to be preached to the vulgar, who
ought to be kept within the clofefl bounds of regularity and fub-
jeclion. But the goodnefs of their hearts, it is infinuated to them,
and the liberality of their views, will fully juftify their emanci-
pating themfelves, in fome degree, from the rigid difcipiine of
parents and teachers.
ipo On the Prrrrfjs of p'lce.
Soothing as fuch infinuations are \h the youthfnl, and incon-
fiderate, their firfl: fteps, however, in vice, are cautious and ti-
mid, and cccafionally checked by reniorfe. As they begin to
mingle rr-ore in the v/orld, and eiiierge into the circles of gaiety
and pleafure, finding ihefc lo^fe ideas countenanced by too gene-
ral pracflice, they gradually become bolder in the liberties they
take. If they have been bred to bufinefs, ilicy begin to tire of
indullry, and look with contempt on the plodding race of citi-
zens. If they be of fuperior rank, they think it becomes them to
refemble their equals ; to aflljine that freedom of behaviour, that
air of forwardnefs, that tone of diiTipation, that eafy negligence
of thofe with whom they converfe, which appear fadiionable in
high life, If affluence of fortune unhappily concur to favor their
inclinations, amufcments and diverfions fucceed in a perpetual
round ; night and day are confounded ; gaming fills up their va-
cant intervals; they live wholly in public places; they run into
many degrees of excefs, difagreeable even to thcmfelves, merely
from weak complair;ince, and the fear of being ridiculed by their
ioofe affociates. Among thefe alTociates, the mofl hardened and
determined always take the lead. The refl: follow them v>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 «<?/.———
ENVY is a fenfation cf uneafincrs and difquiet, srifing from
the adv'antages which others are fupj ofed to pc iTeis above us,
accompanied with malignity towards thofe who pofleis them. "J Ids
is nniverfilly admitted to be one of theblickeit paHions in the hu-
man heart. In this world, we depend much on one ai.ott-er.
and were therefore formed by God to be mutually ufeful and aflift-
ing. The inftind of kindnefs and compaflion which belong to our
frame, Hiow how much it was the intention of our Creator, that
we Hjould be united in the frienddiip. If any infringe this great
law of nature, by acls of cauielcfs hoitility, rcfentment may
juitly arife. No one is to be condemned for defending his rights^
and fiiowing dilpleafure againlt a malicious enemy. Eut to con-
ceive ill-wili atone who has attacked liOne of our rights, nor cone
us any injury, folely becaufe he is uiore proi'perous than we are>
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<n:ed condi-
tion of a good man. For, as profperity may, affliction certainly
will, at one time or other, be his lot. It enters into the appoint-
ed trial of his virtue ; and, in one degree or other, is the <looni
of all. Here we (hall find various (iiuations occur, in vvhich no
relief is equal to what a virtuous and holy man derives from a fenfe
of the perpetual prefence of God.
Is he, for itiflance, thrown into an obfcure condition in the
world, without friends to affift him, or any to regard and confider
his ftate > 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 .<?* Thus exclaimed the prefumptuous mo-
narch, in the pride of his heart. Brut, lo ! when the word was
yet in his mouth, the vifitation from heaven came, and the voice was
heard ; 0, Nebuchadnezzar / to thee it isfpoken ; thy kingdom is de^
parted fr 0771 thee, — He that exalt eth himfelf]J}mllbe humbled ; and he
that humbletb himfelf Jhall be exalted. f A temperate fpirit, and mo-
derate expedlations, are the beft fafeguard of the mind in this un-
certain and changing (late. They enable us to pafs through life
with moft comfort. When we rife in the world, they contribute
to our elevation 5 and if we mud fall, they render our fall the
lighter.
IV. Moderation in our pleafures is an important exercife of
the virtue which we are now confidering. It is an invariable law
of our prefent condition, that every pleafure which is purfued to
excels, converts itfelf into poifon. What was intended for the cor-
dial and refreflimenc of human life, through want of moderation,
we turn to its bane. In all the pleafures of {tvSc, it is apparent,
that only when indulged within certain limits, they confer latis-
fadlion. No fooner do we pafs the line which temperance has
drawn, than pernicious eftedts come forward, and diow themfelves.
Could I lay open to your view the monuments of death, they
would read a ledture in favour of moderation, much more power-
ful than any that the moft eloquent preacher can give. You would
behold the graves peopled with the victims of inie.Dperance. You
would behold thofe chambers of darknefs hung round, on every
iide^ with the trophies of luxury, drunkennefs, and lenfuality. ^o
G g numerous
* Daniel iv. 30, f ^^^^^ xiv. U'
•252 On Moderation.
nuuierous would yon find thofe martyrs of iniquity, that it may
fafely be aiTerted, where war or peftilence have fiain their thou=
fands, intemperate pleafure has (lain its ten thoufands.
While the want of moderation in pleafure brings men to an
untimely grave, at the fame time, until they arrive there, it pur-
fues and afflidts them with evils innumerable. 7 o what caufe, fo
much as to this, are owing, faded youth, and premature old age ;
an enervated body, and an enfeebled mind ; together with all that
long train of difeafes, which the indulgence of appetite and fenfc
have introduced into the v/orld? Health, cheerfulnefs, and vigor,
are knov;n to be the offspring of temperance. The man of mode-
ration brings to all the natural and innocent pleafures of life, that
found, uncorrupted relifii, which gives him a much fuller enjoy-
ment of them, than the palled and vitiated appetite of the voluptu-
ary allows him to know. He culls the flower of every allowable
gratification, without dwelling upon it until the flavour be loft, He
tafles thefweet of every pleafure, without purfuing it till the bitter
dregs rife. Whereas the man of oppofite charader dips fo decp^
that he never fails to ftir an impure and noxious fediment, which
lies at the bottom of the cup. — In the pleafures, bcfides, which are
regulated by moderation, there is always that dignity which goes
along with innocence. No man needs to be afliamed of them. They
are confiftent with honor ; with the favour of God, and of man. But
the fenfualift, who difdains all reftraint in his pleafures, is odious
in the public eye. His vices become grofs; his character, contemp-
tible ; and he ends in being a burden both to himfelf and to foci-
ety. Let me exhort you, once more,
V, To moderation in all your paffions. This exercife of the
virtue is the more requifite, becaufe there is no pafijon in human
nature but what has, of itfelf, a tendency to run into excefs. For
all paflion implies a violent emotion of mind. Of courfe, it is apt
to derange the regular courfe of our ideas ; and to produce ccn-
fufion wiihin. Nothing, at the fame time, is more feducing thau
pallion. During the time when it grows and fwells, it conftant-
ly judifies, to our apprehenfion, the tumult which it creates, by
means of a thoufand falfe arguments which it forms, and brings
to its aid. — Of fome paffions, fuch as anger and refentment, the
excffs \i fo obvioufly dangerous, as loudly to call for moderation.
He
, On Moderaihn. 253
^e who gives himfelf up to the impetuofity of fuch pafnons, with-
out reftraint, is univerfally condemned by the world ; and hardly
accounted a man of found mind. But, what is lefs apt to be attend-
ed to, fome even of thofe palTions which are reckoned innocent;
or whofe tendency to diforder and evil is not apparent, Hand, ne-
verthelefs, in need of moderation and reftraint, as well ns others.
For, fuch is the feeblenefs of our nature, that every pafTion which
has for its objed: any worldly good, is in hazard of attaching us
too ftrongly, and of tranfporting us beyond the bounds of realbn«
If allowed to acquire the full and unreftrained dominion of the
heart, it is fnfficient, in various fituations, to render us mifcrable;
and almoft in every fituation, by its ingroifing power, to render
us negligent of duties which, as men or Chriftians^ we are bound
to perform.
Of the infidious growth of pafTion, therefore, we have great
reafon to beware. We ought always to have at hand confidera-
tions, which may affift us in tempering its warmth, and in regain-
ing pofleflion of our fouls. Let us be perfuaded, that moments
of paflion are always moments of delufion ; that nothin-g truly is
what it then feems to be j that all the opinions which we then
form, are erroneous; and all the judgments which we pafs, are
extravagant. Let moderation accuftom us to wait until the fumes
of pafTion be fpent ; until the mift which it has raifed begin to be
dilTipated. We fhall then be able to fee where truth and rio-bc
lie ; and reafon fliall, by degrees, refume the afcendant. On no
occafion let us imagine, that ftrength of mind is fhown by violence
of paflion. This is not the ftrength of men, but the impetuofity
of children. It is the ftrength of one who is in the delirium of
a fever^ or under the difeafe of madnels. The ftrencrth of fuch
a perlon is indeed increafed. But it is an unnatural ftrength ; vvhich
being under no proper guidance, is directed towards objeds that
occafion his deftruftion. True ftrength of mind is Ihown in go-
verning and refifting paffion, not in giving it fcope, in reftraining
the wild beaft within ; and aaing on the moft trying occafions,
according to the dilates of confcience, and temperate reafon.
Thus 1 have pointed out, in feveral inftances, how moderation
ought to be difplayed. Moderation in our wiflies; moderation
m ourpurfuits 5 moderation in our hopes ; moderation in our plea-
fures ;
#^^4 ^« Moderation,
fures ; moderation in our paflions. It is a principle which fliould
habitually influence our condud, and form the reigning tempera-
ture oi" the foul.
The great motive to this virtue is fuggefted by the words im-
mediately following the text; the Lord is at hand. The judge is
coming, who is to clofe this temporary fcene of things, and to in-
troduce a higher flate of exiftencc. The day is at hand, which
will place the great concerns of men in a point of view very dif-
ferent from that in which they are at prefent beheld ; will ftrip the
world of its falfe glory ; will deted: the vanity of earthly purfuits;
and dilclofe objeds which have the proper title to interefta rational
mind. Objeils acquire power to engage our paflions, only in pro.
portion as they are conceived to be great. But great, or little, are
no more than terras of comparifon. Thofe things which appear
great to one who knows nothing greater, will fink into a diminu-
tive fize, when he becomes acquainted with objedls of a higer na.
ture. Were it oftener in our thoughts, that the Lord is at hand,
none of thofe things which now difcompofe and agitate worldly
men, would appear of fufHcient magnitude to raife commotion in
our breafts. Enlarged views of the future deftination of man, and
of the place which he may hope to polTefs in an eternal world^ na-
turally give birth to moderation of mind. They tend to cool all
mifplaced ardour about the advantages of this ftate ; and to pro-
duce that calm and temperate frame of fpirit, which becomes men
and Chrirtians. They give no ground for entire difregard of
earthly concerns. While we are men, we muft feel and aft as fuch.
But they afford a good reafon why they who believe the Lord to hs
at hand, fhould let their moderation appear, and k known unto ail
men,
SER»
Z ^55 1
SERMON XLIIL
On the Jov, and the Bitterness of the Heart,
— — i^-^--j!j-^-^»3jE-n .
Proverbs xiv. lo.
The heart knovueth his own hitternefs, and a Jlranger doth not lnter->.
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<flnefs ; the other, by unwarrrantable compliance, itrengthens
the power of corruption in the world. The one borders on the
charader of the Pharifee ; the other, on that of the Sadducee.
True religion enjoins us to ftand at an equal diftance from bothj
and to purfue the difficult, but honourable aim, of uniting good-
nature with fixed religious principle ; affable manners, with un-
tainted virtue.
Farther ; we run to one extreme, when we contemn altoge-
ther the opinions of mankind; to another, when we court ihe4f
praife too eagerly. The former difcovers a high degree of pride
and felf-conceit. The latter betrays fervility of fpirit. We are
formed by nature and Providence, to be connected with oneano-
ther. No man can fland entirely alone, and independent of all
his fellow-creatures. A reafonabie regard, therefore, for their
cfteem and good opinion, is a commendable principle. It flows
from humanity, and coincides with the defire of being mutually
ufeful. But, if that regard be carried too far, it becomes the
fource of much corruption. For in the prefcnt ftate of mankind,
the praife of the world often interferes with our ading that ftea-
dy and confcientious part, which gains the approbation of God.
Hence arifes the difficulty of drawing a proper Ihie between the
allowable regard for reputation, and the excelTive defire of praife.
On the one fide, and on the other, dangers meet us; and either
extreme will be pernicious to virtue.
He who extingui flies all regard to the fentlments of mankind,
fupprelTes one incentive to honourable deeds; nay, he retnove^
one of the ftrongeft checks on vice. For, where there is no de-
fire of praife, there will be alfo no fenfe of reproach and fliame;
and when this fenfe i« deltroyed, the way is paved to open profli-
gacy.
298 Oh Extremes in
gacy. On the other hand, he who is aduated folely by the love cf
human praile, incrcaches on the higher refped: which he owes 10
confcience, and to God. Hence, virtue is often counterfeited;
and many a fplendid appearance has been exhibited to the world,
which had no balls in real principle, or inward affection. Hence,
religious truths have been difguifed, or unfairly reprefented,
in order to he fuitcd to popular tafte. Hence the Scribes and
Pharifees reje(5led our blefied Lord, beeaufe they Iwed the pralfe of
men more than the pra'ife of Cod. — Turn, therefore, neither to
the right hand, mr to the left, Affed not to defpife what the
world thinks of your conduft and character; and yet, let not the
ientiments of the world entirely rule you. Let a defire of eOcem
be one motive of your condu(51: ; but let it hold a fubordinate
place. Meafure the regard that is due to the opinions of men,
by the degree in which thefe coincide with the law of God.
Allow me next to fuggeft the danger of running to the ex-
treme of anxiety about worldly interefts on the one hand, and of
negligence on the other. It is hard to fay which of thcTe extremes
is fraught with moft vice, and moft mifery. Induftry and dili-
gence are unqueftionable duties, ftri^ily enforced on all Chrillians ;
and he who fails in making fuitable provifion for his houfliold and
family, is pronounced to be worfe than an infidel. But here are
bounds, within which our concern for worldly fuccefs muft be
confined. For anxiety is the certain poifon of human life. It
debafes the mind ; and Ih^rpensall the pafTions. It involves men
in perpetual diflradions, and tormenting cares; and leads them
afide from what ought to be the great fcope of human a6lion.
Anxiety is, in general, the effeft of a covetous temper. Negli-
gence is commonly the offspring of licentioufnels ; and always,
the parent of univerfal diforder. By anxiety, you render your-
felves miferable. By negligence, you too often occafion the ru-
in of others. The anxious man, is the votary of riches ; the ne-
gligent man, the votary of pleafure. Each offers his miflaken
worfhip at the flirine of a falfe deity, and each fliall reap only
fuch rewards as an idol can beftovv; the one facriticing the
enjoyment and improvement of the prefent to vain cares about
futurity; the other, fo totally taken up in erjoying the prefent,
as to ft Of e the future wlih certain miferies. — True virtue hcids
a tern-
Religious and Moral Gondii^. ^90
3 temperate courfe between thefe extremes; neither carelefs of
to-morrow, nor taking too much thought for it ; diligent, but
not anxious; prudent, but not covetous; attentive to provide
comfortable accommodation on earth, but chiefly concerned to lay
up treafures in Heaven,
I SHALL only warn you further againft the extreme of engag-
ing in a courfe of life too bufy and hurried, or of devoting your-
felves to one too retired and unemployed. We are formed for a
mixture of action and retreat. Our connexions with fociety, and
the performance of the duties which we owe to one another, ne-
celTarily engage us in a(5tive life. What we owe to ourfelves, re-
quires occafional retirement. For he who lives always in the buftle
of the world, cannot, it is to be feared, always preferve his vir-
tue pure. Sentiments of piety will be deprived of that nouriih-
nient and fupport, which they would derive from meditation and
devotion. His temper will be often rufHed and difturbed. His
paffions will be kept too much on the llretch. From the conta-
gious manners which every where abound, he will not be able to
avoid contracting fome dangerous infedlion. — On the other hand,
he who flies to total retreat, in order either to enjoy eafe, or to
efcape from the temptations of the world, will often find difquiet
n)eeting him in folitude, and the worft temptations arifing from
within himfelf. Unoccupied by active and honourable purfuits;
unable to devote his whole time to improving thoughts, many an
evil paffion will ftart up, and occupy the vacant hour. Sullen-
nefs and gloom will be in danger of overwhelming him. Peevifli
difpleafure, and fufpicions of mankind, are apt to perfecute thofe
who withdraw themfelves altogether from the haunts of men. — -^
Steer therefore a middle courfe, between a life opprelTed with bu-
finefs on the one hand ; and burdened, for the burden is no lefs,
with idlenefs on the other. Provide for yourfeives matter of
fair and honeft purfuit, to afford a proper objedl to the active pow-
ers of the mind. Teniper bufinefs with ferious meditation ; and
enliven retreat by returns of adion and induftry.
Thus 1 have pointed out fome of thofe extremes into which
men are apt to run, by forfaking the line which religion and wif-
dom have drawn. Many more, I am fenfible, might be fnggeft-
ed ; for the field is wide, and hardly is there any appearance of
30O On Extremes y Scc
piety, virtue, or good condu6l, but what the folly of men is r.pt
to pufli into undue excefs, on one or the other fide. What I have
mentioned, will be fufficient to fliow the neceffity of prudent cir-
cumfpedion, in order to efcape the dangers which befet us in this
flate of trial. Let us ftudy to attain a regular, uniform, confiftent
charader; where nothing that is excefTive or difproportioned flial]
come forward to view ; which fliall not plume itfelf with a fair
fliow on one fide only, while in other quarters it remains una-
dorned, and blemifhed ; but, where the different parts of worth
and goodncfs fliall appear united, and each fliall exert its proper
influence on conduft. Thus, turning neither to the right hand, nor
io the left, we fliall, as far as our frailty permits, approach to the
perfcdion of the human charafter ; and fliall have reafon not to
be ajhamed when we have equd\re/p€(^ to all Cod^s commandments.
SER.
C 301 3
SERMON XLVIII.
On Scoffing at Religion.
^-K{ n c^-»'^ ^-. —
2 Peter iii. 3.
— There fhall come in the laji days Scoffers. —
AS the Chriftisn religion is adverfe to the inclinations and
paiTions of the corrupted part of mankind, it has been its
fate, in every age, to encounter the oppofition of various foes.
Sometimes, it has undergone the ftorms of violence and perfecu-
tion. Sometimes, it has been attacked by the arms of falfe rea-
foning, and fophiftry. When thefe have failed of fuccefs, it has
at other times been expofed to the fcofFs of the petulant. Men
of light and frivolous minds, who had no comprehenfion of thought
for difcerning what is great, and no folidity of judgment for de-
ciding on what is true, have taken upon them to treat religion
with contempt, as if it were of no confequence to the world.
They have affecfted to reprefent the whole of that venerable fabric,
v^hich has fo long commanded the refpedt of mankind ; which, for
ages, the learned have fupported, and the wife have admired, as
having no better foundation than the gloomy imagination of fan-
cies and vifionaries. Of this character were thofe /coffers, pre-
difted by the Apoflle to arife in the loft days ; a prediction which
we have feen too often fulfilled. As the falfe colours which fuch
men throw on religion, are apt to impofe on the weak and un-
wary, let us now examine, whether religion affords any juft
grounds for the contempt or ridicule of the fcoffer. They muft
be either the doctrines, or the precepts of religion, which he en-
deavours to hold forth to contempt.
The doctrines of the Chriftian religion are rational and pure.
All that it has revealed concerning the perfections of God, his
moral
OQ2 On Scoffing at Religion,
moral government and laws, the deftination of man, and the re-
wards and punidiments of a future (hte, is perfecftly confonant
to the moft enlightened reafon. In fome articles which tran-
fcend the limits of our prefent faculties, as in what relates to the
elTence of the Godhead, the fallen fiate of mankind, and their
redemption by Jefus Chrift, its do£!rines may appear myflerious
and dark. Againft thele, the fcofier has often direded his at-
tacks ; as if whatever could not be explained by us, ought upon
that account to be exploded as abfurd.
It is unneceiTary to enter, at prefent, on any particular de-
fence of thefe doctrines, as there is one obfervation, which, if
duly weighed, is fufficient to filence the c?.vils of the fcoffer. Is
he not compelled to admit, that the whole fyflem of nature around
Iiim is tull of myltery? What reafon, then, had he to jfunpofe,
tliat the doclrines of revelation, proceeding from the fame Au-
thor, were to contain no myflerious obfcurity? All that is requi-
fite for the conduct of life, both in nature and in religion, divine
■wifdom has rendered obvious to all. As nature has afforded us
fufficient information concerning what is neccllary for our food,
our accommodation and our fafery ; fo religion has plainly inftrudl-
ed us in our duty towards God, and our neighbour. But as foon
as we attempt to rife towards objedts that lie beyond our immedi-
c^iate fphere of aftion, our curiofity is checked ; and darknefs
meets us on every fide. ^What the eflence is of thofe material bo-
dies which we lee and handle ; how a feed grows up into a tree;
how man is formed in the womb ; or how the mind acts upon the
body, after it is formed ; are myfteries of which we can give no
more account, than of the moft obfcure and difficult parts of re^
velstion. We are obliged to admit the exiftence of the fadt, though
the explanation of it exceeds our faculties.
After the fame manner, in natural religion, queflions arifc
concerning the creation of the world from nothing, the origin of
evil under the government of a perfedl Being, and the confiften-
cy of human liberty with divine prefcience, which are of as in-
tricate a nature, and of as difficult folution, as any queftions in
Chriftian theology. We may plainly fee, that we are not admit-
ted iiiio thefecrets of Providence, anymore than into the myfte"
ries
On Scoffing at Religion, 30J
ries of the GoJhead. In all his ways, the Almighty is a *' God
*' that hideth himfelf. He maketh darknefs his pavilion. He
'^ holdeth back the face of his throne ; and fpreadeth a thick cloud
" upon in/' — Inftead of its being any objedion to revelation, that
feme of its doctrines are myfterious, it would be much more
flrange and unaccountable, if no fuch doctrines were found in it.
Had every thing in the Chriftian fydem been perfe6tly level to
our capacities, this might rather h^ve given ground to a fufpicion,
of its not proceeding from God ; fince it would have been then
fo unlike to what we find, both in the fyftem of the univerfe, and
in the fyftefn of natural religion. Whereas, according as matters
now (land, the gofpel has the fame features, the fame general
charader, with the other two, which are acknowledged to be of di-
vine origin ; plain and comprehenfible, in what relates to prac-
tice ; dark and myfterious, in what relates to fpeculation and be-
lief.* The cavils of the fcoffer, therefore, on this head, are fo
far from having any juft foundation, that they only difcover his
ignorance, and the narrownefs of his views.
Let us next proceed to what relates to practice, or the pre-
ceptive part of religion. — The duties which religion enjoins us to
perform towards God, are thofe which have ofteneft furniflied mat-
ter to the feoffs of the licentious. They attempt to reprefent
thefe as fo idle and fuperfluous, that they could owe their birth
to nothing but enthufiafm. — For, is not the Deity fo far exalted
above us, as to receive neither advantage nor pleafure from our
worihip ? What are our prayers, or our praifes, to that infinite
mind, who, refting in the full enjoyment of his own beatitude, be-
holds all his creatures pafling before him, only as the infeds of a
day? What but fuperftitious terrors could have dictated thofe forms
of homage, and thofe diftindions of facred days, in which vulgar
minds delight, but which the liberal and enlarged look upon with
fcorn ?
Now, in return to fuch infults ot the fcoffer, it might be fuf-
ficient toobferve, that the united fentiments of mankind, in eve-
ry age and nation, are againft hiiii. Thoughtlefs as the bulk of
men
* Sf;e this argument fully pur fued, and -placed in a Jlrong light, by
the mafterly hand of^ Bifhop BuTLER, in bis Analogy of Natural
and Revealed Religion.
304 On Scoffing at Religion,
men are, and attacned only to objects which they fee around
them, this principle has never been extinguifhed in their breafts,
that to the great Parent of the human race, the univerfal, though
invifible, Benefador of the world, not only internal reverence,
but external homage is due. Whether he need that homage or
not, is not the queiiion. It is what, on our part, we undoubted-
ly owe; and the heart is, with reafon, held to be bafe, which fti-
fles the emotions of gratitude to a Benefador, how independent
foever he may be of any returns. True virtue, always prompts
a public declaration of the grate-ful fentiments which it feels ; and
glories in expreffing them. Accordingly, over all the earth,
crowds of vi^orihippers have afl'embled to adore, in various forn)s,
the Ruler of the world. In thefe adorations, the philofopher,
the favage, and the laint, have equally joined. None but the
cold and unfeeling can look up to that beneficent Being, who is
at the head of the univerfe, without foine inclination to pray, or
to praife. In vaii>, 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 h<Jman power performs its inconfiderable
works ; what time it cofts to rear them, and how eafily, when
reared, they are dedroyed; the very idea of creating power,
overwhelms the mind with awe. Let us look around, and fur-
vey this fUipendous edifice whic-h we have been admitted to in-
habit. Let us think of the extent of the different climates and
regions of the earth; of the magnitude of the mountains, and of
the expanfe of the ocean. Let us conceive that immenfe globe
which contains them, launched at once from the hand of the Al-
mighty ; made to revolve incefTantly en its axis, that it might
produce the viciflitudes of day and night ; thrown forth, at the
fame time, torunitsannual courfe in perpetual circuits through the
heavens; after fuch a meditation, where is the greatnefs, where
k the pride of man ? Into what total annihilation do we fink, be-
fore an omnipotent Being ? Who is not difpofed to exclaim.
Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him ; or the fin of man
that thou fkouldjl vifit himP When compared wllh thee, all men are
variity ; their ivcrks are nothing. Reverence, and humble ado-
ration, ought fpontaneoufly to arife. He who feels no propenfity
to worfliip and adore, is dead to all [eni'e of grandeur and majef^
ty ; has extinguilhed one of the mod natural feelings of the hu-
man heart. Know the Lord, that he is Gcd, we are all his people ; the
luorkmcinjhip of his hands. Let us worfhip and bow down. Let us
kneel before the Lord our Fvlaker.
' Of all titles to legiilation and rule, none is fo evident and di^
reft as that of a Creator. The convidion is felt in every breafl,
that he who gave us being, hath an abfolute right to regulate
our conduft. This gives a lanftion to the precepts of God, which
the mort hardened dare not controvert. When it is a Creator
and a Father that fpeaks, who would not liften and obey? Are
jullice and humanity his declared laws ; and fhall we, whom but
yederday he called from the duft^ and whom to-morrow he can
reduce
Cyt the Creation of the JVorld. ^ f jf
reduce into dull again, prefume, in contempt of him, to be un-
juft or inhuman ? Are there any little interefts of onr own which
we dare to ere6l, in oppofition to the pleafure of him who made
us I Fear ye not me, faith the Lord ; will ye not tremble at my pre^
fence, who have placed the find for the hound of the fea, by a perpe-
tual decree, that it cannot pafs it ; who. flretch forth my hand over
the earth, and none hinder eth P
At the fame time, the power of a Creator is encouraging, as
well as aweful. While it enforces duty, it infpires confidence un-
der affliction. It brings to view a relation, which imports ten-
dernefs and comfort; for it fuggefts the compaflion of a father.
In the time of trouble, mankind are led by natural impulfe, to
fly for aid to Him, who knows the weaknefs of the frame which
he has made; who remembers we are duf ; and fees the dangers
with which we are environed. " I am thine; for thou hall
'* made me : Forfake not the work of thine own hands," is one
of the molf natural ejaculations of the dilirefTed mind. Kcw
bleffed are the virtuous, who ean reft under the protetlion of that
powerful arm, which made the earth and the heaven ? The om-
nipotence which renders God fo awful, is to them a fource of
joy. In the whole compafs of nature, nothing is formidable to
them, who firmly repofc their truft in the Creator, To them,
every noxious power can be rendered harmlefs ; every threatened
evil, if not averted, can be transformed into good. In the Au-
thor of nature, they find not only the author of their being; but
their protector and defender, the lifter up of their heads. ** Hap-
** py is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help ; whofe hope
*' is in the Lord his God; which made heaven and earth, the fea,
'* and all that therein is ; whicb keepeth truth for ever.''*
II, The work of creation is the difplay of fuprerue wifdonr.
It carries no chara6ler more confpicuous than this. If, from the
ftrudture and mechanifm of fome of the moft complicated works of
human art, vre are led to high admiration of the wifdom of the
contriver, what afionifliment may fill our minds, when we think
of the ftrudure of the univerfe! It is not only the flupendoBs
building itfelf, which excites admiration; but the exquiiite fkill,
with which the endlefs variety of its parts are adapted to their
reipedive
* PJalm cxlvi. 5, 6,
2 14 On the Creation of the IVorld,
refpe(^lve piirpofes. Infomuch, that the ftudy of nature, which,
for ages, has employed the lives of To many learned men, and
which is ibll fo far from being exbaultcd, is no orher than the
ftudy of divine wifilom difplayed in the creation. The farther
our refearches are carried, more ftriidng proofs of it every where
meet ns. The provifion made for the conftanc regularity of the
univerfe, in the difpolition of the heavenly bodies, fo that in the
c(^.urfe of feveral thoufand years, nature fliould ever exhibit the
fame ufeful and grateful variety, in the returns of light and dark-
iiefs, of fummer and winter; and ever furnifh food and habita-
tion to all the animals that people the earth ; mufi be a lafiing
theme of wonder to every reileciing mind.
But they are not only the heavens that declare the glory of
Cody and the firmament that freiveth forth htr handy work. In the
moft inconfjderable, as well as in the mod illudrious works of the
Creator, confummate art and defign appear. 1 here is not a
creature that moves, nor a vegetable that grows, bur, when mi-
nutely examined, furnifiies materials of the higheft admiration.
The fame wifdom that placed the fun in the centre of the fyifem,
and arranged the feveral planners around him in their order,
has no lefs ihovvn iifelf in the provifion made for the food and
tlvveliing of every bird that roams the air, and every beaft that
wanders in the dcfert ; equally great, in the fmalleit, and in the
moft mapniriceni objects ; in the ftar, and in the infecl ; in the
elephant, and in the fly ; in the beam that fnines from heaven,
and in the grafs that clothes the ground. Nothing is overlooked.
Nothing is carelefsly performed. Every thing that exifts, is a-
dapted with perfedf fymmetry to the end for Vvhich it was de-
figned. All this inlinite variety of particulars muft have been
prefent to the mind of the Creator; all beheld with one glance of
his eyfe ; all fixed and arranged, from the begitming, in his great
deiign, when he formed the heavens and the earth. Juilly may
we exclaim with the Pfalmift, ** How excellent, O Lord, is thy
*' name, in all the earth! How manifold are thy v.'orks ! In wil".
<* dom haft thou made them all. No man eon iind out the work
** that God maketh from the beginning to the end. Such know-
•Medge is too wonderful for us. It is higli ; v.s cannot atcain
'* unto it.''
This
•Cn the Creation of the Wijrld. 515
This wlfdom, difplayed by the Almighty in the creation, was
not intended merely to gratify curiofity, and to raife wonder.
It ought to beget profound fubmiflion, and pious truft, in every
heart. It is' not uncommon for many who fpeuk with rapture of
creating wifdom, to be guilty, at the fame time, of arraigning the
conduct of Providence. In the ftru£turc of the univerfe, they
confefs that all is ypod\y and beautiful. But in the government of
human affairs they can fee nothing but dilbrder and confufion. —
Have they forgotten, that both the one, and the other, proceed
from the fame Author ? Have they forgotten, that he who balanced
all the heavenly bodies, and adjufted the proportions and hmits
of nature, is the fame who hath allotted them their condition ia
.the world, who diftributes the meafures of their profperity and ad*
verfity, and fi>ies 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
<lominion of the Almighty. With reverence we contemplate his
hand in the fignal difpenfations of Providence among men ; deciding-
the fate of battles; raifing up, or overthrov^'ing empires; cafting
down the proud, and Hfting the low from the duft. But what are
fuch occurrences to the power and wifdom which He difplays in
the higher revolutions of the univerfe ; by his word, forming,
cr diil'oiving worlds; at his pleafure, tranfplanting his creatures
from one world to another ; that he may carry on new plans of
v.ifdom and goodnefs, and fill all ipace with the wonders of crea-
tion ? SuccclTive generations of men have arifen to pofiefs the earth.
By turns they have pafl'ed away, and gone into regions unknown.
Us he hath raifed up, to occupy their room. We too fiiall ihortly
difappear. But human exiftence never perifiies. Life only chang-
es its form, and is renewed. Creation is ever filling, but never
fill:. When the whole intended courfe of the generations of mei>
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.