# //.iL^.O^r. Srom f^e &i6targ of (profefiBor ^amuef (Qliffer tn (Jllemorg of 3ubge ^amuef (Qliffer (grecftinrtbge (Jjresenfeb 61? ^amuef (ttttffer (grecfttnribge feong fo f^e feifirarg of (Princeton C^eofogicaf ^eminarg I SERMONS ^ ^ '" ^M^^^ SEVERAL SUBJECTS. BY THE RIGHT REVEREND BEILBY PORTEUS, D. D. BISHOP OF LONDOK. First American from the Ninth London Edition. HERTFORD : PRINTED FOR OLIVER D. COOKE, BY LINCOLN & GLEASON. 1806. TO THE KING. SIR, X. HE only grounds on which I can presume to entreat Your Majesty's favorable acceptance of this Volume of Sermons are, that a great part of them was preached in Your own Royal Chapel at St. James' ; and that my intention in publishing them ■was to serve (as far as a situation of much labor and little leisure would allow) the cause of that holy religion, to which Your Ma- jesty lias ever approved Yourself a sincere and cordial friend. An intention of this sort, however feebly executed, will, I am per- suaded, be considered by Your Majesty as the best and most be- coming return I can make, for those spontaneous marks of Your goodness to me, which have impressed the warmest sentiments of gratitude on the mind of, SIR Your Majesty's Most humble and most dutiful Subject, and Servant, B. Chester. CONTENTS, SERMON I. On the love of God. Preached at St. James' Chapel, Feb. 10, 1774. Mark xii. 30. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, an^ with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength ; this is the first and great comina,ndinent. p. 1 SERMON II. On the causes of unbelief. Preached at St. James' Chapel, l'?72, John iii. 19. This is the condemnation, that light is come into the workU and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. p. 13 SERMON III. The possibility of resisting temtitation asserted and proved. Preached at St. James' Chapel, Feb. 1 1, 1770. James i. 13. Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God : for Cod cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempieih he any man. p. 25. SERMON IV. The same subject continued^ and the same text. Preached at Lambeth, April 6, 1777. p.:6 SERMON V. VI. VII. A summary vieiv of the natural., moral, and scrifitiiral evidences of a future life, and a future retributioji. Enlarged from three sermons, preached at Lambeth, 1774, 1775, and 1776. Matth. XXV. 46. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment ' but the righteous into life eternal. p. 48, 65 and 73 CONTENTS. y SERMON VIII. On the advantages of an academical education. Preached before the University of Cambridt^e, on Commence- ment-Sunday, July 5, 1767. Titus ii. 6. Young men likewise exort to be sober-minded. p. 91 SERMON IX. jl serious and devout obsn-vatioji of the Lord^s Day evforced. Preached at St. James' Chapel, March 18, 1781. Peut. v. 12. Keep the Sabbath-day, to sanctify it, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee. ^ p. 107 SERMON X. The doctrine of Christ crucified no just cause of offence to tmbc' lievers. Preached at St. James' Chapel, March 24, 1782. 1 Cor. i. 22, 23, 24. The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom: but wc preach Christ crucified, unto tlie Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. p. 118 SERMON XI. The necessity of national reformation. Preached before the Lords spiritual and temporal, on the general fast, Feb. 10, 1779. Jeremjah xviii.part of the 11th verse. Thus saith the Lord, Behold I frame evil against you. Return ye now every one from his evil way, and nuke your ways and your doings good. p. 132 SERMON XII. Christianity vindicated from the charge of cruelty. Matth. X. 34. Think not that I am come to send peace on earth : I come not to send peace, but a sword. p. 144 SERMON XIII. The pacific and benevolent temper of the Clmstian religion^ proved from Scripture and from facts. Preached at Lambeth Chapel, Dec. 23, 1764. jLuKEJi. 14. On earth peace, good-will towards men. p. 159 SERMON XIV. An immoderate love of diversions inconsistent Kith the duties of a Christian. Preached at St. James' Chapel, Feb. 10, 1771. 2 Tim. iii. 4. Lovtri of pleasures more than levers of God. p-. 173 Vi CONTENTS. SERMON XV. XVI. Universal obedience to the laws of Christ necessary to salvation. Enlarged from one Sermon, preached at St. James' Chapel, Feb. 15, 1775. James ii. 10. Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in-^one point, he is guilty of all. p. 181 and 197 SERMON XVII. The civilization.) improvei>ient, and conversion of the A'cfro-slaves in the British West India islands recornmended. Preached before the Incorporated Society for the propagation of the Gospelin foreign parts, Feb. 23, 1783. X.VKE iv. 17, 18, 19, 20. And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Esaias, and when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written. The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he liatli anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor, he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised ; To preacli the acceptable year of the Lord. And he closed the book, and he gave it again to the minister, and sat down : and the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him. p. 207" SERMON XVIII. On the nature and the characteristic marks of a Christiayi friendship . Preached at St. James' Chapel, March 16, 1777. John xiii. 23. Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom, one of his disci' pies whom Jesus loved. p. 227 SERMON XIX. Cheerfidness a distinguishing feature of the Christian religiov . Philippians iv. 4. Rejoice in the Lord alway : and again I say, Re- joice, p. 23S 6ERMON XX. On the Christian doctrine of Redemfition. 1 Cos. i. 20- Where is tlie wise ? where is the scribe ? where is the dispii- ter of this world ? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ? p. 251 SERMON XXI. The same subject continued.) and the same text. p. 265 SERMON XXII. Self-communion recommended. Psalm iv. 4. Commune with your own heart, and in your chamber, and be stiU. p. 279 CONTENTS. vii SERMON XXIII. The character of David, King of Israel, itn/iartially stated. 1 Sam. xiii. 14. The Lord hath sought him a man after his own heart, and the Lord hath commanded him to be captain over his people, p. 292 SERMON XXIV. Furitij of manners no less necessary to a Christiaii character than beiievolence. James i. 27. Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world. P- "^^^ SERMON XXV. Preached at the anniversary meeting of the Sons of the Clergy, May 9, 1776. i. Kings iv. 1. Thy servant my husband is dead, and thou knowest that thy servant did fear the Lord : and the creditor is come to take unto him my two sons to be bond-men. P- ^20 SERMON XXVI. Marly piety enforced. EccLESiASTEs xii. 1. Remembef nov/ thy creatcrr in the days of thy youth. P- 334 SERMON XXVII. Partial faith and fiartial obedience not pernntted by the Christian religion. \ Kings xviii. 21. And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions ? if the Lord be God, follow him ; liut if Baal, then follow him. P- 344 SERMON XXVIII. Preached before the House of Lords, January 30, 1778. PsAtii xxii . 28. The kingdom is the Lord's and he is the governor among the nations. P> -^^S SERMON XXIX. TJie mperior excellence of Christ's preaching, and the causes of it explained, Luke iv, 32. And they were astonished at his doctrine ; for his word was with power. P- 366 SERMON XXX. Preached at the yearly nneeling of the Charity Schools in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, May 2, 1782. Luke vii. 22. Then Jesus answering, said unto them, Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard, how that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers arc cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, to vh« poor the jospel is preached. P- 375 viii CONTENTS. SERMON XXXL e The government of our passions an indispensable duty. I Cor. ix. 25. Every man that striveth for the inasteiy is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an in- corruptible, p. 388 SERMON XXXir. The character of our Lord-, as delineated in the Gospel, one convin- cing proof that he was the Son of God. Matthew xxvii. 54. Truly this was the Son of God. p. 398 SERMON XXXIIL Preached at St. Paul's, on the Thanksgiving-day for his Majesty's recovery, April 23, 1789. Psalm xxvii. 16. O tarry thou the Lord's leisure ; be strong, and he shall comfort thine heart ; and put thou thy trust in the Lord. p. 410 SERMON XXXIV. The one thing needful. Luke x. 41, 42. Jes»s answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things : But one thing is needful ; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. p. 420 SERMON XXXV. The manxj various opportunities of doing good. Pko VEUB5 iii. 27. Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, whea . it is in the power of thine hand to do it. p. 433 SSSk SERMON L Mark xii. 30. Thou shall love the Lord thy God ivith all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and tvith all thy strength. This is the Jirst commandment. THE LOVE OF God, so forcibly inculcated in this and other passages of Scripture, is a sentiment purely evangelical ; and is one of those many pecilliar circumstances which so eminently distinguish the doc- trines of the gospel from the dry unanimated precepts of the ancient heathen moralists. We never hear them urging the love of God, as a necessary part of human duty, or as a proper ground of moral obUgation, Their religion being merely ceremonial and political, never pretended to reach the heart, or to inspire it with any sincerity or warmth of affection towards the Deity. Indeed how was it possible to have any love for such gods as tiVey worshipped : for gods debased with eve- ry human weakness, and polluted with every human vice ? It was enough surely to make the people wor- ship such a crew. To have insisted upon dieir lo\ing them too, w^ould havd exceeded all bounds of modesty and common sense. But Christianity having given us an infinitely great and good and holy God to worship, very naturally requires iVom us the purest and devoutest sentiments of affection towards him ; and with great justice makes the love of our Maker an indispcnsible A 2 SERMON I. requisite in religion, and the grand fundamental dtrty of a Christian. Surely then it concerns us to enquire carefully into the true nature of it. And it concerns us the more, because it has been unhappily brought into disrepute by the extravagant conceits of a few devout enthusiasts concerning it. Of these, some have treated the love of God in so mystical and refin- ed a way, and carried it to such heights of seraphic ecstasy and rapture, that common minds must for ever despair either of following or understanding them ; whilst others have described it in such warm and in- delicate terms, as are much better suited to the gross- ness of earthly passion,, than the purity of spiritual affection. And what is still more deplorable, the love of God has been sometimes made the scourge of man ; and it has been thought that the most effectual way to please the Creator, was to persecute and torment and destroy his creatures. Hence the irreligious and pro- fane have taken occasion to treat all pretence to piety as fanatical or insincere ; and even many of the wor- thier part of mankind have been afraid of giving way to the least warmth of devout affection towards the great Author of their being. But let not the sincere Christian be scared out of his duty by such vain ter- rors as these. The accidental excesses of this holy sentiment can be no just argument against its general excellence and utility. As the finest intellects are most easily disordered and overset ; so the more gen- erous and exalted our affections are, the more liable are they to be perverted and depraved. We know that even friendship itself has sometimes been abused to the most unworthy purposes, and led men to the com- mission of the most atrocious crimes. Shall we there- fore utterly discard that generous passion, and consid- er it as nothing more than the unnatural fervor of a romantic imagination ! Every heart revolts against so wild a thought. And why then must we suffer the love of God to be banished out of the world because it has been sometimes improperly represented, or indis- creetly exercised ? It is not eitlier from the visionary SERMON L 3 mystic, the sensual fanatic, or the frantic zealot, but from the plain word of God, that we are to take our ideas of this divine sentiment. There we find it de- scribed in all its native purity and simplicity. The marks by which it is there distinguished contain no- thing enthusiastic or extravagant. The chief test by which the gospel orders us to try and measure our love to God is, the regard wic pay to his commands. " He " that hath my commandments, and keepeth them,'' says our Lord, " he it is that loveth me."* " This is " the love of God," says St. John, " that we keep his " commandments."!' And again, in still stronger terms : " Whoso keepeth God's word, in him verily *' is the love of God pcrfectcd.'^^X Had a proper atten- tion been paid to such passages as these, we should have heard nothing of those absurd reveries which have so much disgraced this doctrine. Yet, while wc thus guard against the errors of over- strained pietism, let us take care that we fall not into the opposite ex- treme of a cold and cautious indifference ; that, as others have raised their notions of this excellent qual- ity too high, we, on the other hand, sink them not too low. Because the Scriptures say, that to keep the commandments of God, is to love God, therefore too many are willing to conclude that no degree of inward aftection need accompany our outward obedience ; and that all appearance of devout ardor is a suspicious and even dangerous symptom. But this notion is to the full as groundless and unscriptural as those above- mentioned ; and needs no other confutation than the very, words of the text. We are commanded not mere- ly to loiic God, but to love him To'ith all our hearty and soul., and mind., and strength. Since then our obedi- ence must be, as we have seen, the measure of our loi}e., we are plainly bound by this command to obey him also with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and strength ; that is, with zeal, with alacrity, with vigor, with perseverance, with the united force of all our fa- culties and powers, with one universal bent of the • Jobn i:iv. 21. f 1 John v. j. | 1 John ii. 5. 4 SERMON I. whole man towards God. The love of our Maker, then, is neither a mere unmeaning animal fervor, nor a lifeless formal worship or obedience. It consists in devoutness of heart, as well as purity of life ; and from a comparison of the text with other passages of Scrip- ture, we may define it to be, " such a reverential ad- miration of God's perfections in general, and such a grateful sense of his infinite goodness in particular, as render the contemplation and the worship of him de- lightful to us ; and produce in us a constant desire and endeavor to please him in every part of our moral and rehgious conduct." This it is that the Scriptures mean by the love of God ; and it is nothing more than what every man may, if he pleases, very easily acquire. It is not a new perception, of which we never experienced any thing before ; it is not an unintelligible, mysterious, or supernatural impression upon the soul : it is only a purer degree of that very same affection, which we frequently entertain for some of the most v\ orthy of our own species. This sentiment religion finds already existing in our minds, and all that it does is to give it a new direction, and to turn it upon God, as its high- est and properest and most adequate object. If then we wish to know still more clearly in what the love of God consists j and what share of it we ourselves pos- sess ; we must consult our own breasts, and consider a little how we feel ourselves affected towards the emi- nently great and good among our fellow creatures. Now, when we observe any one of this character going, on steadily and uniformly in one regular even course of upriglit, noble, disinterested, benevolent conduct, making it the chief study and business of his life to promote the comfort and happiness of every human being within his reach ; we can no more help esteem- ing and loving and reverencing so excellent a person, than we can forbear desiring food when we are hun- gry ; even though we ourselves are not in the least ben- efited by his goodness. But, should we be so fortu- nate as to live under his ir.fiuence, and to be interested SERMON I. $ in his virtues ; to have him for .our friend, our bene- factor ; our parent, guardian, governor, or protector ; then it is scarce possible for language to express the emotions of affection, gratitude, and delight, which we feci in contemplating his goodness, and even in the very mention of his name. In cases like this (and such cases do, God be thanked, sometimes exist) how does our heart burn ivithin iis^ how restless and impatient are wc, till we find some better way than that of words to express the sense Ave have of our benefactor's kind- ness towards us ? With what solicitude do we study every turn of his countenance, and endeavor to prevent his very wishes ? We not only do what he desires, but we do it M iih alacrity and ardor. W'e love to speak of him, to think of him, to converse with him, to imitate him. ^\ c never mention him but in terms of rever- ence and respect. We arc jealous cf his reputation ; we cannot bear to hear it lightly treated, We enter heartily into his interests, and adopt his sentiments. We love Avhat he loves, we hate \\ hat he hates, we are ready for his sake to do any thing, to relinquish any thing, to suffer any thing. These arc the sentiments we entertain, and this the conduct we observe towards those that we love on earth ; and in this manner does Christianity expect us to love our Father that is in heaven. If this sincerity and ardor of affection arc justly esteemed both natural and laudable in the one case, why are they not at least equally so in the other ? Why may they not \\ ithout any stretch of our faculties, or any imputation of hypocrisy or enthusiasm, be ex- ercised tov.'ards Him, who is the very perfection of every thing that is great and good ; who is in reality, and in the strictest sense, our friend and benefactor, our parent, guardian, protector, and governor all in one ? It is true, indeed, there is one difference, and that, as some think, a Aery material one, between the tAvo cases. Our earthly friends are seen, our heavenly one is unseen. But Avho Avill pretend to say that aac can have no love for those Avhom avc liaA^e never seen ? Do Ave not often concciAC the hip-hest rec-ard and ven- 6 SERMON I. eratlon for the worthies of past ages, whom we know only by the portraits that history draws of them ? And even with respect to persons of distinguished excel- lence in our own times : it is not always necessary that we should see in order to love them. It is enough that we feel that they are present with us, by that most pleasing and convincing of all proofs, the benefits they confer upon us. Now we know that God is eve- ry where present ; tliat, " he is not far from every *' one of us;" that in him we most literally "live, *' and move, and have our being." Though we see not bhn, yet his kindness and bounty to us we see and feel every moment of our lives : and die invisibility of the giver is amply compensated by the inestimable value of his gifts. By him we were first brought into being ; by his power that being is continually upheld ; by his mercy in Christ Jesus we are redeemed from sin and misery ; by his grace we are excited to every thing that is good ; by his providence we are hourly protected from a multitude of unseen dangers and ca- lamities ; to his bounty we owe the various comforts and delights that surround us here, and the provision that is made for our everlasting happiness hereafter. Is it possible now to receive such favors as these, without sometimes thinking of them ; or to think of them with- out being filled with love and gratitude towards the gracious Author of them ? If they affect us at all, they must affect us strongly and powerfully. For, although the love of God is not a sudden start of passion ; but a sober, rational, religious sentiment, acquired by re- flection, and improved by habit ; yet, as 1 before ob- served, it must not be so very rational as to exclude ^// affection ; it may, and it ought to produce in us a steady and uniform, a sedate yet fervent sense of grat- itude towards God ; exerting itself in acts of adoration and praise, and substantialized in the practice of every Christian virtue. Have you then (ask your own hearts), have you ever given these practical, these only decisive proofs, that you really love God, as the text requires you to do, SERMON I. 7 with all your heart, and soul, and mind, and strengdi ? Have you made his precepts the first and principal ob- ject of your care, and pursued other things only in sub- ordination to that great concern ? Have you not only admired and adored his perfections, but, as far as the infirmity of vour nature, and the infinite distance be- twQcn God and man would allow, endeavored to imitate them ? Have you delighted to think and to speak of him, and never thought or spoke of him, but with the utmost veneration and awe ? When you have heard his holy name profaned, or seen any of his ordinances or laws insulted, have you always felt and expressed a proper abhorrence of such unworthy behavior ? Have you sacredly observed that holy day which is set apart for his service, and not only attended public worship yourselves, but taken care that all under your roof and under your protection should do the same ? Have you brought up your children " in the nurture andadmoni- " tion of the Lord* ;" and amidst all the fine accom- plishments, amidst all the prudent maxims with which you have furnished them, have you taught them that *' wisdom which is from above," and formed them to shine in another world as well as this ? Have you gladly seized all opportunities of conversing with your Maker in private and in domestic prayer ; of pouring out your soul before him on all occasions, whether of sorrow or of joy, intreating pardon for your offences, and implor- ing his assistance for your future conduct ? Have you for his sake been content sometimes not only to forego many worldly comforts and advantages, but even, if necessary, to encounter ridicule, reproach, and injuri- ous treatment ? Have you cheerfully sacrificed to his service, when called upon, your health and your re- pose, your amusements and pursuits, your favorite pas- sions and your fondest wishes, the pleasures of youth, the ambition of manhood, the avarice of old age ? Have you borne with patience and resignation all the disap- pointments, losses and afflictions, that have befallen you ? Have you considered them as the corrections of • E[)be5ian8 vi, 4. i SERMON I. his fatherly hand, and submitted without a miirriiut to' all the dispensations of bis providence ? Have you, in iine, entirely subdued all anxious and fretful thoughts' about your temporal aifairs, and acquired that absolute composure and serenity of mind in every condition of life, which nothing but religion can give, and nothing but guilt can take away ; committing yourselves and all your concerns to the great Disposer of every human €vent ; with a perfect confidence in his infinite wisdom and goodness, and a firm persuasion that every thing will work together ultimately for your good ? By questions such as these it is^ that you must try and examine yourselves whether you really love God or not. In all this there is nothing visionary or fanatical, nothing but what the coolest heads and the calmest spirits may easily rise to, nothing but what reason approves and the gospel enjoins, nothing but what we ourselves should in a proportionable degree require from those who pretend to liave a sincere regard and affection for us. What answers you can give to these questions your own consciences ean best tell. But what a very great part of mankind can say to them, one may but too well imagine. Some there arc, who, far from hav- ing any love for God, affect to doubt his very existence, and professedly make a jest of every thing that looks like religion. Others, immersed in the pursuits of pleasure, of interest, of ambition, have no time to waste upon their Maker, and hardly know whether they be- lieve a God or not. And even of those who profess both to believe and to reverence him, how few are there that know any thing of that inward and hearty love for him which leads to universal holiness of life ? If they main- tain an external decency of conduct, are just in their dealings, and generous to their friends, they think that all is well, and that they are in the high road to salvation. All their notions of duty terminate in themsehes, or xht'iv fel!o\\} creatures, and they seem to have no appre- hensions of any peculiar homage or service being due to tiieir Creator. They can therefore, without any re- morse of conscience, make a 'v\ anion and irreverent use SERMON I. 9 cf his holy name, in oaths and execrations, which can answer no other purpose but tliat of insulting God, and £^i\ ing pain to every serious mind. Not content with the ample provision of six days out of seven for their business and amusement, they must have the seventh too, or they are undone. They grudge their Maker even that slender pittance of time which he has reserved to himself; they prostitute the whole, or the greater part of it, to the most trifling or most unworthy purpo- ses ; and think it much fitter that he should be robbed of his worship than they of their pleasures and pursuits for a day, or even for an hour. Much less can they aftbrd to spend a few minutes every day in private medi- tation and prayer ; and as to family devotion^ it would, they think, absolutely ruin their character, and expose them to everlasting contempt. Or if by chance they do go so far as to worship God both in public and at home, yet with what visible languor, and coldness, and indifference, do they often labor through this heavy task ; and how apt are they to deride and stigmatize with opprobrious names those who show any unusual marks of seriousness and devotion ? They think it a dreadful crime to be righteous oiier-much^ but none at all to be righteous over-little. They are terribly afraid of being called bigots and enthusiasts ; but think there is no danger of falling into the opposite extreme, of lukewarnmess and want of piety. They profess per- haps sometimes, andperhaps too persuade themsehes, that they reall)^ love God; but they give no demonstra- tive proof that their persuasion is well-grounded, and their professions sincere. If they have the for7n of godliness, they too commonly want the poxver of it. 'I'heir piety is in general exterior and local, confined to the ordinary offices of devotion, and the walls (jf a church; not considering that God is equally present every where ; that the \vhole world is his temple, and tile sanetity of our whole lives his worship. But their lives are consecrated to far other puri^oses. Their af- fections are not set on things above, their views do not tend there, their hopes are not centered there, " Uieir B iO SER]\ION I. " treasure is on earth, and tliere is their heart also." The main end, the frreat and nkimatc aim, of all their actions and designs, is not to please God, but to please ' themsches ; to advance their power, to enlarge their fortunes, to multiply their amusements. Their love of God is only secondary, and subservient to these pri- mary considerations ; just as much as is commodious and easy^ and consistent with all their favorite pursuits. Satisfied wiUi " eschewing evil," they do not go on ^' to do the thing that is good;" they do not press for- wards towards those sublime and exalted virtues, that preference of God to every w^orldly consideration, that entire resignation to the divine will, that perfect trust and reliance upon Heaven, which are the surest proof, and the fairest fruit, of true genuine piety. In prospe- rity, their hearts are lifted up, and they forget God ; in adversity, they are cast down, and dare not look up to him. Or if, when misfortunes press hard upon them., they are at length brought do^vn upon their knees before him ; yet this is commonly an act of fear rather than of love, of necessity rather than of choice ; after experi- encing \vhat every human being will experience in his turn, the instability of worldly happiness, and the weakness of itv^xy earthly support. What then can be said for those who fall under this description, and what excuse can they ?nake for the neglect of so important a duty? For, whatever they may think of it, how-ever lightly in the gaiety of their hearts they may treat the love of their Maker, }'et it is confessedly the first and great command, and stands at the head of every Christian virtue. If you ask, i:jhy it is thus distinguished, the answer is obvious. It is plainly reasonable and right ; it is conformable to all our ideas of order and propriety, that the Supreme Lord of All, the first and greatest and best of Beings, should have ^hit first place in our regards, and that those duties which respect him as their immediate object, should have the precedency and command over every other. But besides this natural fitness, there is another I'ery important reason why the love of God is called in SERMON I. U the G ospel the first a n d cheat c o IvI m and. And that is, because among all the incentives to virtue, it is the only one whose operation is sufiiciently efiectual and extensive, the only one that can reach to every instance of duty, and produce an uniform, consistent character of goodnes s . It is the prand, leading prlncipk of^ right conduct, the original source and fountain from which all Christian graces flow; from whence the " living wa- ters" of religion take their rise, and.branch out into all the various duties of hv.man life. Other motives may frequently lead us to what is right. Instinct, constitu- tion, prudence, convenience, a strong sense of honor and of moral rectitude, Vvill in many cases prompt us to worthy actions ; but in cdl cases they will not, especial- ly in those of great danger, and difiiculty, and self-deni- ■ al ; \vhereas the love of God, if it be hearty and sincere, will equally regulate the vc hole oi our conduct; will, on the most delicate and trying occasions, engage us to renounce our dearest interests and strongest inclina- tions, M'hen conscience and duty require it at our hands. A man ^vithout any religion at all may do good occa- sionally, may act laudably by chance ; his virtue may break out sometimes in sudden temporary gleams ; but whoever wishes to be habitually and uniformly good, must have the vital principle of piety working at his heart, and by a constant, regular v»'armlh producing constant and regular fruits of righteousness. Let not then cither the sober moralist, or the gay man of the world, any longer treat this m^ostholy affec- tion with derision ar.d contempt, as a mere ideal, unin- telligible notion, fit only for the cloystered monk, or the superstitious devotee. It is, on the contrary, one of the most useful, one of the most practical sentiments belonging to our nature, adapted no less to active than to contemplative life, and entirely calculated to promote all the great purposes of social happiness and universal good. This is not a time, God knows, for weakening any of those ties, ^vhich bind men do'an to their duty, much less for dissolving that strongest of all bonds, af-, "^ lectionatc allegiance to the great Soverign of the uri;-. 12 SERMON I. verse ; ^Yhich, as the Scripture expresses it, constrains us to every thing that is right and good, from this pow- erful, this irresistible motive ; because the author of our being, the author of every blessing we enjoy, de- mands it from us, a proof of our gratitude, as the best, the only return we can make to his unbounded good- ness. Without this, every system of ethics, however specious or plausible it may seem in theory, will be found on trial imperfect and ineffectual. And it is one of the many invaluable benefits we owe to the Gospel ; that by the addition of this goDcin'mg principle^ this master affection^ to all the other groimds of moral ob- ligation, it has given virtue every assistance that heaven and earth can furnish ; it has given iis the completest and most efficacious rule of conduct that was cvef pffered to mankind. ■SBBSiasnnBi SERMON II. John iii. 19. This is ihe condemnatio?!, that light is come into the nvorld^ aiid men loved darkness rather than light, because their dccdi were evil. WHEN the several parts of the text are reduced to their proper order ; they give us the four following distinct propositions. That light is come into the world. That men have preferred darkness to thisliglit. That the reason is because their deeds are evil. And that the consequence of this choice will be con^ demnation. It may be worth our while to bestow a little consid- eration on each of these particulars. In this enlightened age, it will be thought no para- dox to assert that " light is come into the \\orld." The position is true in more senses than one ; but there is only one that can suit this passage. The light here meant can be no other than that divine one of revela- tion, which " brought life and immortality*" along with it. The Christian dispensation is constantly and imiformly described in holy writ under this figure, from the time that the first faint glimmerings of it ap- peared at a distance, till it shone forth in its full lustre find glory under the Gospel. Indeed there seems to * 2 Tim. i. 10. 14 SERMON II. be scarce any other image that could so fitly and ad- equately represent it to us. It is of the same use to the spiritual, that the light of the sun is to the natural world. It gives life, health, and vigor, to God's new creation ; it makes the " day of salvation*" to dawn upon us ; it opens to us the prospect of another and a better life ; " it is a light to our feet and a lantern to our " pathsf," and guides us in the way to happiness and glory. I'he next assertion contained in the text, that " men '■ have preferred darkness to this light," may seem to require a proof. To " love darkness rather than light" is so opposite to our nature, so inconsistent with our general manner of proceeding, that it seems at first incredible. If it really is the case, so perverse a choice was never made but in religion. Every oth- er kind of light men catch at with the utmost eagerness. The light of the heavens has been ever esteemed one cf the greatest blessings that Providence has bestowed upon us, ^v•ithout which, even life itself would be Iiardly thought worth possessing. The love of knowl- edge, that light of the mind, appears in us as early, and operates in us as strongly, as any one principle in our nature ; and, in every instance, the human understand- ing naturally lays hold on every opportunity of infor- mation, and opens itself on every side to let in all the light it is capable of receiving. How then comes it to pass that with a mind thus constituted, thus thirsting after light, men can some- times bring themselves to do such violence to their nature, as to chuse darkness, in that very point where it is of the utmost imxportance to have all the light they can possibly get ; where every step must lead to hap- piness or misery, and every error draw after it the most fatal and lasting consequences ? Yet our Saviour tells us, that this was actually the case in his days, and would God that daily experience did not show the possibility of it, in our own ! But when we seethe various artifi- ces widi w'hich revelation is every day assailed ; when * 2 Cor. vJ. 2. t I'bal. c.\ix. 105. SERMON II. 15 we see one man * most ingeniously reasoning lis out of every ground of certainty, and every criterion of truth ; involving self-evident axioms in obscurity and confusion ; and entangling our understandings in the gloomy intricacies of scholastic subtilty and metaphys- ical abstraction ; when we see anothcrt exhausting all the powers of a most fertile genius in ridiculing the dispensations of the God that gave it ; making the most awful subjects of religion the; constant sport of liis licentious wit ; and continuing to sit with unabated levity in '* the seat of the scorncr," till he drops from it into the grave ; u'hen we see a third J, with the strongest professions of sincerity, and good faith, pro- posing most humbly what he calls his doubts and scrit- ples^ and thereby creating them in the minds of others ; extolling one part of Christianity in order to subvert the rest ; retaining its moral precepts ; but rejecting its miracles and all its characteristic doctrines ; eivincc an air of speciousness to the wildest singularities by the most exquisite graces of composition, and insidi- ously undermining the foundations of the Gospel, Avhile he pretends to defend it : when, I say, our adver^ .'varies assume such diiferent shapes, and set so many engines at work against us ; what else can this mean but to take from us ail the sources of religious informa- tion, and bring us back again to the darkness and igno- rance of our Pagan ancestors ? It is to no purpose to tell us here of the light of nature. It is an affront to our senses, to offer us that dim taper, in the room of the " sun of righteousness^." Whatever may be said (and a great deal has been said) of the modern im- provements of science, the discoveries of philosophy, and the sagacity of human reason, it is to revelation only we are indebted for the superior light we now * Hume ; whose uncomfortable and iinin»vlligihls system nf PynhonisTn has been exposed with great spirit and eloquence in Du. Beat'i ie"s Elisa^i ov. the nature and hnmutability of Truth : in which (as well as in all tliC other jn-odiictions of the same excellent writer) the reader will hnJ that union so rarely to be met with, of u clear head, a fine iina?;ination, a correct taste, and a heart thoroughly warmed with the love of truth and virtue. t Voltaire, ♦ Rovsseai'. ^i Mai. iv. 2. ye SERMON IL boast of in religion*. If nature could ever have point- ed out to us right principles of belief, and rules of con- duct, she might have done it long ago ; she had four thousand years to do it in before the coming of Christ. But v/hat little progress was made in this vast space of time ; what egregious mistakes were committed, not only in the speculative doctrines of religion, but in some of the most essential points of practical mo- rality, I need not remind you. How comes it then to pass, that this blind guide is at last become so quick- sighted ? How comes her eye on a sudden so strong and clear, as to see into the perfections and will of God, to penetrate into the dark regions of futurit}^ to take in at one view the whole compass of our duty, and the whole extent of our existence ? It is plain some friendly hand must have removed the film from her eyes ; and what other hand could this be than that gracious and beneficent one, which gave eyes to the ])lind, and feet to the lame ; which helped the impo- tence, and healed the infirmity, of nature in every in- stance, in none more than in this ? It is in short from the sacred sources of the Gospel, that reason drew that light she now enjoys. Let then men walk, if they voiil be so perverse, " by this lesser *' LiGHTf," which was only intended " to rule the " nighty." of heathenism ; but let them be so honest as to confess that it is only a borrowed, a rejiecled light ; that it owes much the greatest part of its present lus- tre to THAT GREATER, THAT B E TTE R L I G H T of the Gosijel, whose province it is " to govern the dayli," and to ligliten every " man that cometh into the " \vorId*«-." Let us however suppose for a moment (what can ne\cr be proved) that mankind are novv- much better able to investigate truth, and to find out their duty by themselves, than they were in former ages ; and that reason can git^e us (the utmost it ever did or can pre- * Mr. R(nisseaii himself confesses, that nil the fine morality disj)layed in r'lTTtc of our modern publicutions, is derived no? from philfsophy, but from ih'.- Gohptl. Vol. i.\-. ]). 71. t Gen i. 16 \ 11... % lb. ='* Jch. i. 9. SERMON li. 17 tend to give) a perfect, system of moralit}-. But what will this avail us, unless it could be show n that man is also perfect and uncorrupt ? A religion that contained nothing more than a perfect system of morality might perhaps suit an angel : but it is only one part, it is only a subordinate part, of the religion of a man and a sinner. It would be but very poor consolation to a criminal going to execution, to put into his hands a complete collecUon of the laws of his countrj^ when the poor wretch perhaps expected a reprieve. It could serve no other purpose than to embitter his agonies, and make him see more clearly the justice of his con- demnation. If you chose to do the unhappy man a real service, and to give him any substantial comfort, you must assure him that the olience for which he was going to die was forgiven him ; that his sentence was reversed ; that he would not only be restored to his prince's favor, but put into away of preserving it for the future ; and that if his conduct afterwards was hon- est and upright, he should be deemed capable of enjoy- ing the highest honors in his master's kingdom. But no one could tell him this, or at least he would credit no one that did ; except he was commissioned and authorised by the prince himself, to tell him so. He might study the laws in his hands till the very moment of his execution, without ever linding out from them that he should obtain a pardon. Such, tlic Scriptures inform us, ivas the state of man before Christ came into the v.orld. He had fallen from his original innocence. He ^vas a rebel against God, and obnoxious to his wrath. Tlie sentence of dtaih had passed upon him, and he had no plea to offer to arrest the execution of it. Reason, you say, gives him a perfect rul-e to walk by. But he has already transgressed this rule ; and if even this transgres- sion w ere cancelled, yet if left to himself, he may trans- gress it again the next moment. He is uneasy under his sentence, he wants forgiveness for the past, assist- ance for tl:e future ; and till vou can cjive him this, it IS an insult upon his misery to talk to him of a pcr- C 18 SERMON IT. feet rule of action. If this be all that reason can givd him (and it is really much more than it can give him) he must necessarily have recourse to Revelation. God only knows, and God only can tell, whether he "wiU forgive, and upon what terms he will forgive the offences done against him ; what mode of worship he requires ; what helps he will afford us ; and what condition he will place us in hereafter. All this God actually has told us in the Gospel. It was to tell us this, He sent his Son into the world, whose mission was confirmed by the highest authority, by signs from Heaven, and miracles on earth ; whose life and doctrine are deliv- ered down to us by the most unexceptionable wit- nesses, who sealed their testimony with their blood ; who were too curious and incredulous to be themselves imposed upon, too honest and sincere, too plain and artless, to impose upon others. What then can be the reason that men still refuse to see, and persist in " loving darkness rather than light?'*' They M'ill tell you, perhaps, that it is because the Gos- pel is full- of incredible mysteries; but our Saviour tells you, and' he tells you much truer, that it is " because " their deeds are evil." The mysteries and difficulties of the Gospel can be no real objection to any man that considers what m.ysteries occur, and what insuperable objections may be started, in almost every branch of human knowledge ; and how often we are obliged, in our most important temporal concerns, to decide and to act upon evidence, incumbered with far greater diffi- culties than any that are to be found in Scripture. If we can admit no religion that is not free from mystery, Ave must, I doubt, be content without any religion at all. Even the religion of nature itself, the whole constitution both of the natural and the moral world, is full of mystery* ; and the greatest mystery of all v\'ould be, if, with so many irresistible marks of truth, Chris- tianity should at last prove false. It is not then be- cause the Gospel has too little light for these men that * vide Voltaire, ^lestions stir P Encyclopedia, V. i. p. 190. Rmisscciv., T. 7- p. ire. ^T.Q. p. 17, 26, 32, 4:^—12°, 1762, Fran.fort. SERMON 11. 19 ihcy reject it, hut because it has too much. '' For every -' one that doth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to '• the light, lest his deeds should be reproved*." The light ot" the Gospel is too prying and inquisitive for such an one. It reveals certain things which he could wish to conceal from all the world, and if possible from himself. Nor is tliis all ; it not only reveals, but it reproves them. It strikes him with an evidence he cannot bear ; an evidence not only of its own truth, but of his unworthy conduct. The Gospel does in- deed offend him ; but it is not his understanding, it ig his conscience, that is shocked ; he could easily credit what it requires him to believe ; but he cannot, or rather he will not, practice what it comrnands him to do. It is plain that such a man cannot possibly admit a Revelation that condemns him ; and it is as plain that the man of virtue cannot spurn the hand that is graciously stretched out to reward him. If he is a truly virtuous man, that is, one who sincerely labors to kno^v his duty, and sincerely intends to perform it, he cannot but wisJi for more light to guide him in the investigation, more assistance to support him in tlie discharge of it, more happiness to crown his perseverance in it, than bare reason alone can afford him. This is what all the best and wisest Heathens most ardently desired, what nature has been continually looking out for with the utmost earnestness of expectation. \\^hen with a mind thus disposed he sits down to examine the Gospel, suarsest to me the least shadow of a reason ^hv he should reject it. He finds in it a religion, pure, holy, and benevolent, as the God that gave it. He finds not only its moral precepts, but even its sublimest myste- ries, calculated to promote internal sanctity, vital piety, unbounded philanthropy. He finds it throughout so great and noble, so congenial to the finest feelings, and most generous sentiments of his soul ; that he cannot but imsh it may be true ; and never yet, I believe, did any good man wish it to be true, but he actually found * John iii. 20. $b SERMON II. it so. He sees in it every expectation of nature answered, every infirmity supported, every want sup- J>lied, every terror dissipated, every hope confirmed ; nay, he sees that God has done exceeding abundantly above all that he could either ask or think ; that he has given him (what reason could hardly have the idea of) eternal happiness in a life to come. Vvill this man *' love darkness rather than that light ?" Will he choose to pursue virtue, with much pains, little suc- cess, and no other voag.es than deat/j ; or to be led to her through a safe and easy path by an infallible guide, who does not desire him to " serve God for nought ?" Let me not however be understood to assert, or to represent the text as asserting, that all unbelievers are without exception absolutely wicked men. There are some, no doubt, who lead, what is called, good moral lives. Yet, if you examine even these very strictly, you will, I believe, seldom find that their vir- tue is so pure, so uniform, so extensive, so complete in all the several branches of duty, as that of a truly de- vout Christian. And it should be observed also, that men may reject the Gospel, not only because they are dissolute in their conduct, but for various other rea- sons : because, perhaps, they are too busy, or too idle, to examine carefully into the truth : because like Gal- lic, " they care for none of these things," and like him *' drive them away" with contempt " from the judg- *' ment-seat*" of their own mind ; because they giv6 themselves up to a warm lively imagination ; and are impatient to show that they have more depth of thought, more freedom of spirit, and elevation of mind, than the rest of the world ; because, in fine, they are ambi- tious to figure at die head of a sect, to enjoy the de- lightful triumph of beating down long-established opin- ions, and erecting upon their ruins a little favorite system of their oun. Nou- all thc;;c causes of infideli- ty, though less culpable tlian downdiight profligacy, arc yet evidently great fauils, and indicate moie or less a depra^•ed turn of mind ; and from iniir;craUties of * Acts -wiii. 16. SERiMON II. 21 iJj'is kind ?X least scarce any sceptics are entirely free. Or, admit that some arc ; yet thei;e instances are con- fessedly very r.r.e ; and a prudent man \\'Ould no more chuse to embark his morality on so precarious a bottom, than he would venture to v.alk in the dark amidst rocks and precipices, because some perhaps have done it without receiving any harm. In general, therefore, the ground of unbelief laid down by our Saviour in the text is undoubtedly a true one ; and if a man shuns the light, it is an almost certain sign that his deeds are, in some sense or oilier, in a greater or a lesser degree, evil, and consequently his condemnation just. Yet how can this be ? you u ill perhaps say. Can God punish his creatures for v/alking by that light which he himself has set up in their own minds, though he has at the same time perhaps revealed a ful- ler light from Heaven-^- ? Most certainly he can ; for the A'cry same reason that a prince might punish his subjects for acting by the law of nature, instead of gov- erning themselves by the civil laws of the land. It is not a matter of indifference, whether you embrace Chris- tianity or not. Though reason could answer all the purposes of Revelation (which is far, very far from being the case) yet you are not at liberty to make it your sole guide if there be such a thing as a true Reve- lation. We are the subjects of the Almighty : sind whether we will acknowledge it or not, we live, and cannot />/// live, under his government. His will is the law of his kingdom. If he has made no express dec- laration of his will, vre must collect it as well as v.e can from what we know of his nature, and our own. But if he has expressly declared his will, that is the law we are to be governed by. AVe may indeed re- luse to be governed by it ; but it is at our peril if we do ; ibr if it proves to be a true declaration of his will, to reject it is rebellion. But to rejet or receive it, you may alledge, is not a thing in your own power. IBelief depends not on your • De quoi puis-je etre coupable en servant Dicu relon les Liimieres qu'il donne a mon esprit, S; selon l;s scntinicns qu'il iiisiirc a monCeur ? ko.isseau, r: 8 ft. 6r. 22 SERMON II. will, but your understanding. And will the rii^hteous " Judge of the earth condemn 3^ou for want of under- standing^ ? No ; but he may and will condemn you for the vjrong conduct of your understanding. It is not indeed in your power to believe whatever you please, whether credible or incredible ; but it is in your power to consider thoroughly, whether a sup- posed incredibility be real or only apparent. It is m 3 our power to bestow a greater or less degree of atten- tion on the evidence before you. It is in your power to examine it with an earnest desire to find out the truth, and a firm resolution to embrace it wherever you do find it; or, on the contrary, to bring with you a heart full of incorrigible depravity, or invincible pre- possessions. Have you then truly and honestly done e\'ery thing that is confessedly in your power, towards forming a right judgment of Revelation ? Have you ever laid before yourself in one view the xvhole collec- tive evidence of Christianity ; the consistence, har- mony, and connection of all its various parts ; the long chain of prophecies undeniably completed in it ; the astonishing and well attested miracles that attended it ; the perfect sanctity of its author; the purity of its precepts; the sublimity of its doctrines ; the amazing rapidity of its progress ; the illustrious company of confessors, saints, and martyrs, ^\ ho died to confirm its truth ; together vvith an infinite number of collateral proofs and subordinate circumstances, all concurring to form such a body of evidence, as no other truth in the world can shew ; such as must necessarily bear down, by its own weight and magnitude, all trivial ob- jections to particular partsf ? Surely these things are not trifles ; surely they at least demand seriousness and attention. Have you then done the Gospel this com- mon piece of justice ? Have you ever sat down to con- sider it with impartiality and candor ; v. ithout any fa- vorite vice or early prejudice, without any fondness " * Est on maitre de croirc, ou de ne pas croire ? Est ce un crinie dc n'avoir pas subien argumenter ! Jfnmseau, tvin. 6. p. 305. ^• See Dr. Pidey's View of the Evidences of Clnijiianity, and a short and ckgant Summavy of tkembyDu. Be.^ttie. SERMON II. 23 for applause, or novelty, or refinement, to mislead you ? Have you examined it with the same care and diligence, that you would examine a title to an estate ? Have you enquired for proper books ? Hdve you read the de- fences of Revelation as well as the attacks upon it ? Have you in difficult points applied for the opinion of wise and learned friends ; just as you would consult the ablest lawyers when your property was concerned, or the most skilful physicians when your hfe was lit stake ? If you can truly say, that you have done all these things ; if you have faithfully bestowed on these enquiries, all the leisure and abilities you are master of, and called in every help within your reach, there is little danger of any material doubts remaining upon your mind. But if after all there should, be not afraid ; trust in God and beat peace; *' if your own heart *' condemn you not, then may you have confidence to- *' wards God*." You are in the hands of a gracious Master, who will not require more of you than you are able to perform. To the modest, the humble, the diligent, the virtuous enquirer ; who labors after con- viction, but cannot thoroughly arrive at it ; whenev- er attempts or wishes to infuse his scruples into others ; %vho earnestly strives, who fervently prays for more light and strength ; crying out wiih all the passionate bincerity of an honest heart, " Lord, I believe, help *' thou mine unbelieff ;" to him every equitable allow- ance will undoubtedly be made, every instance of compassionate tenderness be shown. " For like as u *' father pitieth his own children, even so is the Lord *' merciful to them that fear himi." But to them w ho neithcv Jcdr nor regard him : to the bold unbelieving libertine, who is against the Gospel, because the Gos- pel is against him ; to the man of pride and paradox, Avho burns to distinguish himself from the vulgar by the novelty of his opinions, and would disdain to follow tlie common herd of mankind, even though he knew lliey were leading him to Heaven ; to the subtle minute pliilosopher, who refines away every dictate of common • 1 Joliu iii. 21. f :.!ark i::. 2-1. ,*: Pi. c'.ii. U. 24 SERMON 11. 0ense, and is lost in the dark profound of his own wretch- ed sophistry ; to the buffoon, who laughs and takes pains to make all the world laugh at every thing serious and sacred ; to the indolent, negligent, superficial free- thinker, who reads a little, takes for granted a great deal, and understands nothing thoroughly ; to the man of pleasure and amusement, \vho treats all these things with a giddy, wanton, contemptuous levity ; and thinks that the whole fabric of Revelation may be overturned, by a silly cavil or a profime jest, thrown out in the gay moments of convivial mirth ; to these I say, and all like these, the Almighty will one day most assuredly show, that his gracious offers of salvation are not to be des- pised, and trampled upon, and ridiculed with impunity. Consider then, you, who reject the Gospel (if any such be here) consider, I intreat you, on ivbat grounds you reject it ; and think a little seriously on these things once more in your lives, before you resolve nev- er to think again. Look well into your own hearts and see whether you are really, M-hat perhaps you pro- fess to be, unbelievers on conviction, or whether you have taken up your infidelity, as some do their faith, upon trust. It becomes not ns X-O \'^'^%^ you unchar- itably ; but indeed it becomes you to examine your- selves very strictly. You may easily deceive the world; you may, if you please, deceive yourselves ; but God you cannot deceive. He, to whom all hearts are open as the clay, he knows whether you are conscientious and honest doubters, or careless, prejudiced, profane despisers of his word. " It is a small thing for you *' to be judged of man's judgment ; he that judgeth " you is the Lord* ;" and,by the unerring rules of his justice you must finally stand or fall. Think then v;hethcr you can face that justice without dismay ; whether you can boldly plead before the tribunal of Christ the sincerity of your unbelief as a bar to your condemnation. That plea may possibly in some cases be a good one. God grant it may in yours ! But re- member this one thing ; that you stake your own souls lipon the trLitli of it. » 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4. SERMON III. James I. 13. Let no man saij, nvhcn Iw h temfited, I am temfitcd of God ; for God ca7mot be trwiited nvith eiil, nciiher tcmfitcth he any man. NOTWITHSTANDING this general prohibition, there is one sense in which it is \ery allowable to say (for the sacred writers themselves have said it) that men are sometimes tempted of God. And that is when by tempting any one is meant only iryiiig him, putting'his sincerity, his obedience, his faith, or any of his other virtues to the test. In this sense God tempted Abraliam, when he commanded him to offer up his son*. In this sense he may be said to have tempted the Israelites in the wildei'ness, on purpose (as Moses expressly tells us) to proi:e them ; "to know *' what was in their hearts, whether they would keep " his commandments or nof." And in the same man- ner he every day suffers good men to f' nature or solicited by temptation, loudly intimate to us that it w'i\s in our jiowcr to ha\c done otherwise ; for wliat is naturally iiupossible^ can never be imputable, either here or ]\erealter. The truth ' is, these specious pretences of u'ngovernabic passions and invincible temptations cannot stand the test even at the partial tribunal of our own licarts; and how xhcn shall they appear before tiiat most awful and impar- tial one, THE JuDGjrr. Tv'T-sr.AT or God ? Let us not, then, nn^" lonpcr delude ourselves, and affront our Maker, by throwing all the blame of our misconduct on the strength of temptation or the frailty of our nature. It is enough that we have acted wick- edly, let us not go on moreover, " to cliarre God *' foolishly." Let us rather, vrith the royal ptalmist, " confess our wickedness, and be sorry for our sins." . A casual Inpse, or a distressful surprise, God may and will, no doubt, upon our sincc.-c repentance, forgive ; Si SERMON If I. but a cool deliberate defence of our impiety, is an in- sult upon Heaven, which can hope for no mercy. Ta accuse our constitution, is to accuse the author of that constitution ; to say we are by any means compelled to sin, is in fact to say, *' we are tempted of God ;" an assertion not only repugnant to the plainest de- clarations of Scripture, but to the plainest dictates of common sense. It is not God that tempts, but man that will be tempted. It is not by God's ap- pointment, but by man's own negligence and su- pineness, that temptation becomes too strong for his virtue. The growth of the passions is gradual, and may be seasonably checked ; the approach of temp- tation is visible, and may be easily guarded against. But, instead of that, we generally invite the danger, and court our own ruin ; we foster up some favorite appe- tite by constant indulgence, and then mistaking, wil- fully mistaking, this monstrous production of habit for the genuine child of nature, very disingenuously com- plain of our passions and constitutions. We see the enemy of our salvation approaching at a distance, and, instead of preparing to make a vigorous resistance, or (what is generally the safest way) a timely retreat, wc either sit still in stupid indolence and suffer ourselves to be subdued, or we run to meet the destroyer with open arms, and make haste to be undone. That some men are by nature more prone to vice than others, and that there is a difference in the origin- al frame and temperament of our minds, as there cer- tainly is in that of our bodies, is not perhaps to be ab- solutely denied ; but it must at the same time be allowed, that a bad constitution of mind, as well as of body, may, b}'' proper care and attention, be greatly if not wholly amended. And, as it sometimes happens that they who have the weakest and most distempered frames, by means of an exact temperance and an un- shaken perseverance in rule und method, outlive those of a robuster make and more luxuriant heakh ; so there are abundant instances, M'here men of the most depraved turn of mind, by keeping a steady guard up- SERMON III. 55 on Aeir weak pra'ts, and gradually but continually cor- recting their defects " going on from strength to " strength," and from one degree of perfection to an- other, have at length arrived at a higher pitch of virtue than those for whom natm-e had done much more, and who would therefore do but litde for themselves- It is said of the great Athenian philosopher, that he was by nature the very reverse of all those virtues which afterwards shone so conspicuous in his conduct ; that he was born one of the worst, and lived and died one of the best of men. This at least is certain, tb,-^, whatever may be the corruption of our nature, \. hat- ever the |X)wer of pain to stagger our virtue, or of pleasure to seduce it, it is impossible we can be so (brmed, or so situated by a just and good God, as to be under an absolute necessity of transgressing those laws \v hich he has laid down for the regulation of our con- duct. We may rest assured that he will give us pow- ers, either natural or supernatural, to balance our de- fects. In the common trials of our virtue, the common efforts of Iraman nature, and tlie common influences of the Holy Spirit, will be able to support us: "if any " temptation take us, more than is common to man,'* God will send us, provided we desire, and endeavor to deserve it, more than common assistance ; for his strength is made perfect in our weakness, and we may in this sense, most truly say with the apostle, " that " when we are weak then in reality are we strong*." We are not, however, to conclude from hence, that God will deliver us out of temptation without any trouble on our part. As without /6i;7z we can do nothing, so neither will he do any thing without us. His grace is not intended to supersede, but to co. operate with, our own most earnest endeavors ; and the most effect- ual method of securing to ourselves the divine assist- ance, is to make a speedy and vigorous use of all those means with which we are furnished, for working out our salvation. What these means are, and how we may apply them to the best advantage, will be consid- ered in a separate discourse. » 2 Cor. x». 10. SERMON IV, James i. 13. l,et 710 man saij, nvhenlie is temjited^ I am temjited of God ; for Gcd camiot bs tcmfxtcd ivith evil, yieithcr ler.iptethhe aivj man. IN the preceding discourse I attempted to show, that to throw all the blame of our vices on the infirmity of our natural constitution, is in fact to say that we are " tempted of God ;" that this indirect accusation of our Maker is as groundless as it is impious ; that the notion of ungovernable passions and irresistible temptations, contradicts our clearest apprehensions of the Divine nature and perfections, the most express declarations of Scripture, the testimony of past ages, and even our own daily experience. And, although this might be deemed sufficient for the conviction of any reasonable man, yet, in a point of such great impor- tance, I shall readily be excused for pursuing the same subject a little further, and for going on to show, not only that temptations may be subdued, but bow they may be subdued ; what those means are, in short, which reason and religion have put into our hands, for combatting these enemies of our salvation ; for it must at last be owned, that the most effectual way of prov- ing any end to be attainable, is to point out the path that leads to it. I. The first step, then, towards resisting temptations, ]s to regulate our notions ;• and before we can hope to SERMON IV. ff ticl virtuous]}", we must learn to think justly. The faurprising influence which worldly allurciucnts have over our minds, is in a great measure owing to the high opinion wc entertain of the jileasures or advantages 4hey set before us. Tliat restless power of the mind, THE IMAGINATION, -whicli is " only evil continual- ly*," is for ever leading us beyond the bounds of truth ; and, by raising up before us certain visionary scenes of happiness, so excites our expectations and inflames ■our desires, that we w ait with impatience for an oppor- tunity of gratifying them, and are very easily induced to pursue, and to seize with eagerness, what we have been accustomed to contemplate with so much plea- sure. We must therefore keep a steady eye on this licen- tious wanderer, and never suffer it to fix our attention so long on improper objects, as to delude us into a false opinion of their excellence, and an insatiable desire to attain them, as indispensibiy necessary to our happiness. Had the wretched Ahab, ^vhen he was struck vvitli the beauty and the convenience of Naboth's vineyard, called in a little timely reflexion, and a little common sense to his aid ; had he for one moment represented to himself the folly of supposing that the acquisition of a few acres of land could add any thing to the real com- fort of a man \vho was already in possession of a king- dom, and of every enjoyment that regal power could command, he might, in this instance at least, have es- caped that heavy load of guilt and misery which he and the vile partner of his throne and of his crimes, brought dov/n upon their own heads. But the proximity of this vineyard to his own house had, among other circum- stances, captivated his fancy ; and instead, of resisting the first impression, and bringing his silly passion to the bar of reason, he indulged and cherished, it till he began to think it absolutely impossible for him to live Aviihout that favorite spot, which he wanted, it seems for ?i garden of berbsf. Unable to accomplish this im- ^)ortant purpose, " he laid him down on his bed an^ • Gen. yi. 5. f 1 Kings xx;. 2. 38 SERMON IV. *' turned aw^^y bis face, and would eat no bread*." This heavy affliction, however was soon removed. His wife gave him, as she had promised, the vineyard, which she purchased by a murder, and he went down with joy to take possession of it. But his joy, as is commonly the case with such triumphant sinners, was of very short duration. He was met on the very spot with that severe rebuke, to which his own conscience must have given irresistible force. " Hast thou killed, '' and also taken possession ? Thus saith the Lord, in " the place where dogs licked the blood of Naboth, *' shall dogs lick thy blood, even thinef." Let this memorable example teach us, as well it may, not to allow our imaginations to overbear our judg- ments ; not to give more importance to the objects of our wishes than their real intrinsic worth deserves ; not to persuade ourselves, in short, as we are but too apt to do, that the whole happiness of our lives depends on the possession of the merest trifles. To secure ourselves against this fatal error, let us learn to look on things in that true unerring light in which the Gospel of Christ holds them out to us ; and in estimating the value of earthly enjoyments, let us be careful to consid- er, not merely the present pleasure or profit attending them, but every diminishing or debasing circumstance which naturally belongs to them ; the shortness of their duration, the pains it generally costs us to obtain them, the substantial happiness of which they frequently de- prive us ; and the shame, ignominy, remorse, and mis- cry, which almost constantly succeed to the indulgence of every guilty passion. If all these appendages are not taken into the account, we shall make but a very unfair and imperfect estimate ; and if they are, there will be no danger of our setting too high a value upon worldly gratifications. It is for this reason, that when St. Paul is arming his Christian soldier for this very combat against sinful propensities and allurements, the first direction he gives him, is, to ha^e his loins girt about wit/j triithX ,- • 1 Kings xxi 4. f lb. ver. 19. t Epl'-f s. vi; 14. SERMON IV. ^ that is, to prepare himself for the conflict by strength- ening and confirming his mind uith true Gospel no- tions of the world and its enjoyments. This he will always find to be one of the strongest barriers against the inroads of vice, one of the most effectual means to confine his passions within their due bounds, and to restrain him from those immoral principles and irregu- lar practices, which arc the mo&t certain consequences, of wrong opinions. II. When our notions are thus regulated, our desire* will of course be much abated ; for they are generally proportioned to the supposed value of the desired ob- ject. But in order more effectually to break and sub- due them, we must inure them to an early obedience, and a patient submission to restraint. The man of the world affirms that temptations are irresistible ; and so indeed ke may sometimes find them ; but it is only because they meet with inflamed appetites, and desires made untractable by habitual indulgence. Let the same solicitations assault a man with the same natural inclinations, but humbled and chastised by an early discipline ; and these formidable assailants shall be- come weak and impotent things ; and we shall plainly see the difference between one who seeks all occasions to excite and exasperate his passions, and one who takes every opportunity to check and to control them. It is indeed our misfortune, that, for the first part of our lives, w^e are almost entirely under the dominion of our natural appetites and desires ; which have therefore the advantage of making tlie earliest impressions upon the mind, and gaining an ascendency over us before the light of reason, or the more glorious light of Revela- tion, breaks in upon the soul. And it is never to be enough lamented, that they who have the first care of our persons, and v;ho ought to train up the soul tohalj- its of self-government, by seasonable denials and well- judged severities ; that these I say, through ignorance, inattention, or ill-timed ttnderness, too often betrcsy that most important trust. By indulging every iVow- ard wish, cverv wi;v\\ard humor of the infant mind. 40 SERMON IV. they frequently sow deep in our hearts the seeds of vicej " and cherish, instead of checking, those turbulent de- sires, which, first trying their strength in trifiirig, and therefore disregarded instances, afterwards break out into the most mischievous excesses, to the disturbance of our own happiness and the peace of mankind. It will therefore require some assiduity and address to correct this unhappy defect of our constitution, and die still more unhappy consequences of our education. ' We must watch the first motions, and suppress the first risings of our irresrular desires. \Ve must, from the moment that reason takes the reins into her hands, assert her natural sovereignty over the soul, and, by a timely and vigorous display of her power, strike a ter- ror into her seditious subjects, and awe them at once into submission. We must be daily confirming her superiority, by exerting it on all occasions, and making use even of the slightest advantages over the passions. For every victory of reason over appetite, however in- considerable in itself, yet by animating the one, and dispiriting the other, adds nevv' strength to the mind ; and insensibly habituates it to resist the strongest solicit- ations that can assail our virtue. It is with this view, and this only, that the Gospel of Christ so warmly and so wisely recommends to us, the much neglected duties of lioluntary mort'ificaiion and sdf-demal. Christianity is of too tender and com- passionate a turn, to delight in the misery of its dis- ciples, or to take an ill-natured pleasure in thv.'arting our inclinations, and counteracting our nature. It never enjoins a hardsliip merely to see how ^vell v.e can bear it, but in order to prepare us for some great- er trial which we must necessarily undergo. Our ])lesscd Lord vstil knew what was in man, and what kind of management was the prcperest for him.. He knew, that if we never denied our passions before it was absolutely necessary, tliey would not be denied when it was s:o; and that, unless we strengthened the governing powers of the soul, by frequently e:^:ercis!^g tiicir authoritv in lerscr mattC!s, tlicv would net be SERMON IV. 41 able to maintain it in the weightier matters of the law. When therefore we are commanded in Scripture, ** to deny ourselves ; to take up our cross and follow " Christ ; to mortify our members which are on the *' earth ; to beware of conformin,^ to the world ; to *' pluck out a right eye or cut off a right hand that *' offends us,*" these expressions do by no means imply what some have chosen to infer from them ; that we are to renounce the world, and all its pleas- ures, employments, connexions, and concerns ; to bury ourselves in cloisters or deserts ; to forego every thing that is cheerful or agreeable to our nature, and consume our whole life in solitude, abstinence, de- votion, and unremitting austerity. This is an idea of our religion which nothing but the strangest mis- conception of it by its friends, or the grossest misre- presentation of it by its enemies, could possibly have suggested. According to the fairest and most es- tablished rules of interpretation, when applied to the strong figurative language of the Orientals, these phrases and many others of the like import in the sacred writings, mean nothing more than (what every wise moralist must approve, and every man of experience must know to be absolutely necessary to the preserva- tion of our virtue in the midst of a corrupt world) a constant habit of vigilance, circumspection, and self- government ; a cautious and jealous attention to the movements of our minds and the progress of our pas- sions ; a discreet and sober, not a criminal and un- bounded conformity to the world ; a renunciation of oursehcs, that is, of all selfish and sordid "y^Vu'^ that in- terfere with the conscientious discharge of every reli- gious obligation ; a strict abstinence from all irregular and immoral gratifications, without either declining any of the duties, or sullenly withdrawing from the harm- less enjoyments, conveniences, and comforts of social life. It is true, in short, that an exact, or, if you please, rigorous discipline, is required of every man, • Luke be. 23. Col. iii. 5. Rom. xli. 2. Matt. v. 39, oO. F 42 SERMON IV, who enlists under the banners of the cross. " He- ''must endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus " Christ*." And although this has been made a fre- quent topic of ridicule or of complaint among those who call themselves philosophers, and has been repre- sented as a grievous burthen too heavy for human na- ture to support ; yet this moral discipline of the soul is grounded on the same reasons, and justifiable on the same principles, as that strict military discipline, to which it is frequently compared in Scripture ; and which every wise commander finds it necessary to ex- act and to maintain among his soldiers. It may appear to them sometimes harsh and severe, but it leads to or- der, ease, security and victory. The case is the same in our Christian warfare. Every restraint which the Gospel imposes on us tends ultimately to make our *' yoke easy and our burden light," and its very cruel- ties if we may call them so, are in fact tender mercies. We must therefore submit with patience to the sacri- fices it demands from us, and we shall be amply repaid for the transient uneasiness which at first perhaps they may give us. We must, in compliance with its in- junctions, not only abstain from those lusts which " openly war against the soulf," but, like them who strive for the mastery in the combat or the race, must be *' temperate in all things J ;" must train up ourselves for the good fight of faith by frequent preparatory ex- ercises, must, " keep the body under, and bring it into " subjectionTI" by timely precautions, and judicious restraints, that, when temptation calls upon us for the trial of our virtue, our desires may be found patient of control, and able to support a disappointment. III. There are two extremes to be equally avoided in our moral conduct, because, though opposite to each other, they may prove equally fatal to our virtue ; a too high opinion of our adversary's strength, or a too great confidence in our own. If once we are per- suaded that all resistance is vain, we shall never call forth the strength that God has put into our hands, » 2 Tim. ii. 3. f 1 Pet. n. 11, + 1 Cor. ix. 25. 1 lb. \x. ^7. SERMON IV. 43 but tamely give ourselves up on the first appearance of danger ; or if, on the contrary, we flatter ourselves that no resistance is necessary, " a sudden destruction" shall come upon us unawares, and we shall fall into what may be properly called " our om'U mischief." To steer then discreetly between these two opposite points, is what demands our utmost care and attention. We must, on the one hand, possess ourselves with a prop- er sense of our own natural resources, a firm trust in God's supernatural assistance, and a thorough convic- tion that our endeavors, if honestly and earnestly ex- erted, " shall not be in vain in the Lord ;" and on the other, from a due consciousness of our own weak- ness and corruption, neglect no precaution in our pow- er, nor wantonly or heedlessly expose ourselves to un- necessary danger. This indeed is the more common error of the two, and therefore to be the more care- fully guarded against. Men are much more apt to have too high, than too low, an opinion of their own for- titude, and so fall through want, rather than excess, of caution. It ^\ ill, therefore, generally be the safest way to distrust our own courage and resolution, and to avoid rather than to provoke temptation ; for we may often save ourselves by a timely retreat, when wc should have made but a weak and inglorious defence. It is indeed always our own fault if ever we find our- selves beset with solicitations, which prove too strong for our virtue. We may generally recollect a time, when, if we had but exerted the least resolution, they must have vanished before us. But we indolently give way to one wrong compliance after another, which we might easily have resisted at first ; and then, when it is too late to exert the strength which our Maker has given us, we boldly reproach him with having given us none at all. There is, in short, a point at ^vhich we have it in our power to stop ; but if, through a fatal negligciice, or a false security, we let that opportunity slip ; if we suffer ourselves to be drawn a little further, and still a little further on, whatever snares we may afterwards be entangled in, \\e can have no reason to 44 SERMON IV. complain of being surprised by stratagem, or over- come by superior force. IV. But in order to guard against temptation still more effectually, take unto you, my burthen, the SHIELD OF FAITH* ; for this, as St. John assures you ; " is the victory that overcometh the world, even our " faithf." And the apostle might well promise these great things of faith, since it is this which supplies us with one of the principal things we want, a counter- poise to the pleasures and the interests of this life. For by faith is here meant a firm, a rational, and a vital belief of the being of God, of the religion taught by Christ, and the truth of his promises and his threaten- ings as declared in the Gospel ; a persuasion that God w, and that he is through his blessed Son, " a reward- *' er of all those that diligently seek him J." It is this persuasion, and this only, which in certain cir- cumstances can preserve our integrity and our inno- cence unshaken. When this world, as it sometimes happens, spreads before us on a sudden its most pow > erful allurements and advantages, and every thing con- spires to make them operate with their full force upon the heart ; what is there that can destroy the influence of such dangerous attractions, and rescue us from pres- ent ruin ? Can honor, can interest, can reputation, or those most watchful natural guardians of our virtue, pride and shame ? These, alas, whatever they may do in some trifling instances, are found to be weak and slender ties, " as flax burnt with fire^," M'hen opposed to the violence of some passions, and the shock of some temptations. It is here then faith steps in to our relief, and interposes, between us and danger, that HEAVENLY SHIELD, which is proof against all as- sailants, or, to use the more forcible and expressive language of Scripture, " wherewith we shall be *' able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked " one**." Of this every sincere believer may have, whenever he pleases, experimental conviction. For if he will but frequently and seriously meditate on those * Eph. vi. 16. 1 1 John v. 4. j Heb. ii. 6. % Judges xy. 14. ** Eph. vi. 1€L SERMON IV. 4^ awful doctrines which the Christian revelation sets be- fore him : that there is a moral governor of the universe, infinite in wisdom, justice, power, and holiness ; that in his presence we continually live and act ; that his all- seeing eye is constrantly fixed upon us, *' is about our *' bed, and about our path, and spieth out all our " ways ;" that there is not so much as " a word in our " mouth, or a thought in our heart, but he knoweth it " altogether* ;" that, when the glory of this world has passed away, there will be a general resurrection to an- other, a future state of existence, a most solemn day of retribution ; that our great Judge will then require a strict account of all our thoughts, words, and actions, and will make it known to the whole world, that, " ve- *' rily there is a reward for the righteous, doubtless " there is a God that judgeth the earthf :'* if, I say, the sincere Christian will but take care, by frequent meditation and recollection, to impress a deep sense of these momentous truths upon his soul, and render them familiar to his thoughts, he will by degrees so encrease his faith, and so accustom himself to this train of reflec- tions, that the moment temptation assaults him, they will habitually and mechanically recur to his mind ; the rewards and punishments of a future world will instant- ly present themselves to his view ; the fear of the Lord will come upon him, and he will say with the patriarch on a like occasion, " how can I do, this great wicked- " ness, and sin against God| ?" V. There is still one thing more remaining, which, though occasionally touched upon before, is of such great importance as to require in this place a distinct consideration, since without it all our other resources will be ineffectual, and that is theassistanca of God'sHo- ly Spirit. To our great comfort we are assured, that akhough the pov.crs of our ow n weak and corrupt na- ture may frequently be insuflicient to carry us success- fully through the difllculties we have to encounter, yet the grace of God will be at all times, and in the great- est exigencies, sufficient for us|i. This divine and • Psalm cxxxix. 3, \. f Piulm Iviii. 11. + Gen. \xxix. 9. (| 2. Cor- xii. 9. 46 SERMON IV. powerful instrument of our deliverance is, as we are informed, always to be obtained by prayer. *' Our heavenly Father will give his Holy Spirit to *' them that ask him. Whatsoever we ask in prayer, *' believing, we shall receive*." But then it is not in time of need only we must " seek the Lord ;" in the moment of danger we may be reduced to such straits that nothing but a miracle can save us. We must therefore make God our friend long before, and provide against the evil day while it is yet afar off, and all seems peace and security around us. His Holy Spirit is not to be made subservient to a present purpose, to be in- voked in our necessity, and slighted in time of safety ; he must either abide constantly with us, or for ever re- main a stranger to us. It is not an occasional ejacula- tion, vented by accident or extorted by fear, that will bring him down from heaven ; it is only upon repeated solicitations, and a due preparation for his reception, that this divine guest will condescend to take up his abode with us. We are, as the apostle expresses it in his strong manner of speaking, " to pray always with *' all prayer and supplication, and watch thereunto with *' all perseverancef." And this v/ill not only draw down upon us a plentiful effusion of divine grace, but improve and confirm our own internal strength ; will engage our attention, excite our industry, encrease our caution, and even suggest to us every human means of deliverance. For prayer has of itself a natural tenden- cy to obtain its own purposes, and we grow insensiblj better whilst we wish to be so. It is, in short, on our own vigilance, circumspec- tion, and self-discipline, added to our most earnest pray- ers for the divine assistance, that all our virtue here, and all our happiness hereafter, through the merits of our Redeemer, entirely depend. If a man ivill throw himself in the way of danger^ and venture to the very brink of vice ; if he ivill suffer his thoughts to v\ ander, or dwell upon improper objects ; if he knows his weak parts, and yet leaves them without defence ; if he sees * Liikc xi. 33. Matt, xxi 22'. t Ep'«- vi. 18. SERMON IV. 47 a growing appetite, and instead of checking, seeks eve- ry opportunity to feed and to inflame it ; if he confines his vie^^ s to present enjoyments, nor ever spends a thought upon futurity ; if, in fine, he lives without God in the world, without any awe of his presence, any trust in his assistance, or any fear of his judgments, he must expect that the sUghtest temptations will get the better of his virtue, already half subdued. But if, on the contrary, he sets himself seriously and in earnest to search out and to correct his infirmities ; if he flies at the first approach of temptation, and takes alarm at the most distant intimation of danger ; if he curbs that busy dangerous power, the imagination ; ** if he keeps his heart^with all diligence*," and guards the issues of life ; if, as the apostle advises, he takes unto him the shield of faith, opposing the joys of heaven to the pleasures of sin, and having less regard to a present gratification than the future recompence of reward ; above all, if he never ceases importuning the throne of Grace for the assistance of God's Holy Spir- it to purify his soul, invigorate his resolutions, and sup- port him under all the difliculties and discouragements of his Christian AAarfare ; he may depend upon it, that whatever may be his constitution, Nvhatever the nature or degree of the temptations he is exposed to, not all the powers of darkness shall be able to prevail against him. Though he may perhaps accidentally fall, yet he shall *' never be cast away ; for the Lord upholdeth him with his handf." • Pi-ov. iv. 2J. t Pial. xx7:vii. 24. SERMON V. Matthew xxv. 46. And these shall go aivay into everlasting fnaiishntent : but the righlr eous into life eternal. THIS is one among numberless other passages in lioly writ, in which a future judgment, and an eternal state of existence hereafter, are clearly and posi- tively announced to us ; and it is from these declarations of the Gospel, and these only, that we derive the certain expectation of immortal life. To pretend, therefore, as some have done, that we had already sufficient no- tices of this important truth from the light of nature, and that the conviction, produced by these notices, is so complete as to supersede the necessity of any fur- ther information, is to give nature a degree of merit to which she is far from having any just pretensions, and to make a very ungrateful return for the invaluable advan- tages we have received, in this and many other respects, from the Revelation made by Christ. But yet to as- sert, on the other hand, that natural religion gives us not the smallest ground to hope that we shall survive the grave, and that every argument for it, except those which Scripture supplies, is perfectly vain and nuga- tory, and unworthy of the least regard, is surely running into another extreme, no less destitute of foundation, and no less hurtful in its consequences than the former. ^- * It has been very justly observed, that some writers, by exalting the pow- ers of reason, in matters of religion, too high, have destroyed the necessity of Revelation, and others, by degTading them too low, have risqued the rea- sonableness oi It. Div. Leg. vol, ii. p. 26- SERMON V. 49 The nLiLural and moral evidences of anotlier life after this, tliough confessedly inferior, very greatly inferior in authority and force, to those of Revelation, yet un- doubtedly have their proper weight and use ; and to depreciate their just value, and sink them as much as possible in the estimation of mankind, is to do no real service (althoiigli there may have been a sincere inten- tion of doing it) to the cause of Christianity ; which has no need, in this or in any other instance, to rise on the ruins of human reason. On the contrary, it dis- dains not to receive reason as its friend and ally, and occasionally to elucidate and confirm both its doctrines and its precepts, b}- such collateral arguments as that faculty is capable of supplying. In the present case more especially, the consideration of a future state is a subject so full of comfort and satisfaction, that the mind of man must necessarily love to dwell upon it ; must wish to contemplate it in every point of view ; to ex- amine it in every liglit, \^ hether natural or revealed ; to let in conviction from every quarter ; and must be sooth.ed and delighted to find that so important an ar- ticle of belief, on which so much depends both in this; life and the next, is perfectly conformable to the nat- ural sentiments of the human heart, and the justest conclusions of the human understanding. This must be the case, even with the sincerest believers. But tliereare some also (as is but too vrell known) in every Christian country, who are ?2or believers, and yet pro- fess to receive, on the principles of natural religion, the doctrine of another life, and a day of recompcnce. Now, no one, I think, would wish to deprive even these of their persuasion, on whatever grounds it rests, that they are formed for immortality, and that they are responsible for their conduct here, at the bar of their Cieator hereafter. There are other unbelievers (for they arc divided into many different sects) who, though not )'^et convinced of a future state of existence, arc willing to listen to the natural and moral evidences in its favor, and to no others. These, surely, it is of great importance, both to society and to themselves, to G BO SERMON V. bring-^ if possible, to the acknowledgment of a future retribution. This acknowledgment will, even on their own principles, bind them down to a course of action very different from that which a contrary persuasion would have been apt to produce ; and will, moreover, in all probability, pave the way for their entire belief oi a religion which they will find so perfectly harmoniz- ing with their favorite oracle, Reason, in this most in- teresting point, and which professes to give them the most authentic information concerning that unseen world, the reality of which they already admit to have been proved*^. Whereas if, on the contrary, widi a view of convert- ing the Infidel to Christianity, and impressing him with a high sense of its dignity and importance, you set out with assuring him that reason gives us not the slightest hops of immortality ; th.it soul and body perish together in the grave, but are both raised to life again at that general resurrection which the Gospel prom- ises ; he will assent probably, without scruple, to the former part of your proposition, but will never be per- suaded, on the sole authority of a Revelation which he rejects, to listen to the concluding part. It may therefore contribute not a little, both to the satisfaction of the Christian, and the conviction of the imbeliever, to state, in the first place, vvilh as much brevity and perspicuity as the nature of the enquiry will admit, some of the plainest and most obvious of those proofs of a future existence, which our own rea- son is capable of suggesting to the mind, and then to proceed to those which arise from the Christian Revelationf. * That fundamental doctrine of religion (a future state) would, if believed, open and dispose the mind seriously to attend to the general evidence «/" the ■whole. Butler's Anal. c. 1. + The substance of this and the two following sermons was written and preached several years ago. The discourse novvr before us is not, I confess, of that kind which I should have selected for publication. But the progress which the doctrine oi materialism has already made on the continent, and is now endeavoring to make in this kingdom, induced me to think, that a, compendious view of the most intelligible arguments for the immateriality and natural immortality of the soul, as well as of the other principal eviden- ces of a future state, both moral and scriptural, would not be at this time either unseasonable or uuuseful. 'il\\i youv.g rcst/tr, at least, for whose use SERMON V. 51 The first question that naturally presents itself on this subject, is, whether that percipient and thinking accent within us, which we usuall}^ call the soul, is only apart of the body, or whether it is something to- tally distinct from it ? If the former, it must necessa- rily share the extinction of die body by death ; and there is an end at once of all our natural hopes of im- mortality. If, on the other hand, the latter supposition of its distinct subsistence be the true one ; it is plain that there will then be no reason to presume, that the intellectual and the corporeal part of our frame must perish together. That fatal stroke which deprives the latter of life and motion, may have no other effect on the former, than that of dislodging it from its present earthly tabernacle, and introducing it into a different state of existence in another world. Now, whatever difference of opinion there may have been among speculative men, either ancient or modern, concerning the specific nature of the human soul ; yet in this they have all, "with very few exceptions, uni- versally agreed, that it is a substance in itself, actually distinct and separable from the bedy, though in its ])resent state closely united with it. This has been the invariable opinion of almost all mankind, learned or unlearned, civilized or savage, Christian or Pagan, in every age and nation of the world. There is scarce any one truth that can be named, which has met with so general a reception as this. We discover it in the earliest authors extant, both poets and historians ; and it was maintained by every philosopher among the an- cients (except by Anaximander, Democritus, and their followers*) as well as by all the primitive Christian these three discourses were principally intended, will here find (what can alone bs expected, on so cxtens' e a subject in so short a compass) some general and leading principles to direct his judgment on a question of no small importance ; to guard him against too hasty a desertion nf the receiv- ed opinion concerning it ; and to ])repare him for a more profound and ac- curate investigation of it, if ever he should feel himself disposed to pursue the enquiry any farther. • See Cudworth's Intellectual System, vol. i. b. i. c. i. and ii. and c. v. p. 836—841. Cicero (Tusc. Qjixst. I. i. c. 22.) mentions no more than two philosophers, Dic?earchu8 and Aristoxerus, who maintained that man had no soul ; and 52 SERMON V. writers, without, I believe, a single exception. Even they who supposed the soul to be material (which was undoubtedly supposed by several Pagan philosophers, as well as by two or three of the Christian fluhcrs) yet uniformly held it to be a substance distinct from the body. They supposed it to be air, or fire, or harmo- ny, or a fifth essence, or something of a finer, purer, more aetherial, texture than gross matter ; and many of them conceived it also to be immortal, or capable of becoming so. Nor was it only the polished and en- lightened nations of Greece and Rome, of Egypt and Asia, that believed man to be a compound being, con- sisting of two separate substances, but even the rudest and most barbarous tribes, of whom history has pre- served any traces. And it is well known, that wher- ever curiosity, commerce, or the spirit of adventure has extended modern discoveries, this notion has been found existing. It has been found as prevalent through- out the vast continents of India and America, and the various islands of the Atlantic Ocean, and the south- ern hemisphere, as in every other quarter of the globe*. So general a suffrage of almost the whole human race, in favor of this opinion, is surely a very strong pre- sumption of its truth. It proves it to be no less con- formable to the first natural apprehension of the untu- tored mind, than to the soundest principles of philoso- piiyf. And it will, I apprehend, receive no small confirmation from considerins; some of the more remar- kable operations of the soul itself. It is evident, that the intellectual part of our frame exercises a superintending and sovereign conmiand over the body. It moves, directs, controls, supports, he gives their reason for tl.is opinion — c/uia dlfficUis crct cnlvii quid et qua- ils sit intelligentia. This principle, if tanit'd to its full extent, would, I am afraid, prove equally that we have no bodies ; because, as the greatest of our philosophers, Newton, L,ocke, &c. have repeatedly asserted, it is full as difncult to comprehend the nature of :i. corporeal as of "an incorporeal suh- stance. Yet this principle seems still to have no small vvcij^lit with the patrons of Materialism. * See all the late voyages to those parts, by Captain Cook and other navi- gators. f Omni in re consensio omnium gentium le.-c haturai: putanda es^, ffusca. Q^UKst. 1. i. SERMON V. 55 •protects, and .s^overns the whole corporeal system. Now, in other cases, we bce that the moving pgwer is something dificrent from the machine it actuates. We are therefore led by analoo^y to conclude, that the soul is as distinct from the body, as the fjrce of gravi- ty is from the clock which it sets in motion, or the wind that fills the sails, and the pilot that sits at the helm, from the vessel wlich tlxC oi^e steers and the other impels. And indeed the soul itself gives, in various instan- ces, very strong indications that this is actually the case. That power which it sometimes exerts, when immersed in profound thought, of abstracting itself, of being absent as it were from the body, and pa} ing no regard to the impressions made upon it by external dejects ; that authority by which it corrects and over- rules the reports made to it by the senses, for m hich it frequently substitutes the conclusions of its own, judgment ; that facility with which, by turning the mental eye inward, and contemplating itself and all its wonderful operations, in the management of its inter- nal stores, it forms a v.tw set of ideas peculiarly its own, purely intellectual and spiritual* ; that vigor v\ hich it sometimes manifests in the most excruciating dis- orders, and even at the approach of death, when its earthly tenement is all shattered and decayed ; the es- sential difference there is between the pains and pleas- ures of the body and of the mind ; the emotions often raised in us, without any external impression, by the eminent virtues of great and good men, in distant ages and countries ; the astonishing activity and vivacity, the fertility of invention, and rapidity of transition, which the soul frequeritly displays in dreams, when the body, and all its senses and powers, are benumbed and locked up in sleep ; tlic variety of unexpected scenes which it then, by a kind of enchantment, raises up to view ; the strange and unheard-of persons, places incidents, and conversations, it sometimes creates, to- tally unconaected with any occurrences of the precc- Lcchc, b. ii. ch. 1. s. 4. 54 SERMON V. ding day, and of which not the smallest traces are to be found in the memory ; and above all, that astonish- ing, j^et well-attested phenomenon of sleep-walk- ing, where, though the eyes are insensible to all ex- ternal impressions, and sometimes entirely closed, yet the SOMNAMBULIST directs himself with unerring cer- tainty through the most intricate windings, and over the most dangerous precipices, and, w ithout any ap- parent assistance from the organs of sense, has been known to read, write, and compose -^"^ ; all these cir- cumstances taken together, must be allowed to form a very strong accumulation of evidence, that our think- ing part is something more than mere organ'ical me- chanism^ something, in short, distinct, and capable of acting separately from our corporeal framef. It is true, indeed, there are many cases in which the mind appears to be considerably affected by the state and circumstances of the body. But all these appear- ances will admit as easily a solution from the hypothe- sis of two distinct essences, closely united, and power- fully sympathizing with each other, as from the sup- position of our being one single, simple, uncompound- ed, homogeneous substance. If then the preceding remarks ha^•e rendered it highly probable that we are endued v.ith a principle of percep- tion distinct fi-om the body ; the main point, respecting the capacity of the soul to survive the grave, is estab- lished ; and, although it may be extremely useful and satisfactory to the mind, yet it is not absolutely essential to the argument, to prove that the soul is formed of a different kind of substance from the body, or in oilier words that it is immaterial. For even granting for a mo- ment, (v.'hat I trust will very soon appear to be inadmis- sible) that it is nothing more than a system oforganized ■* See a most extraonlinaiy and well-authenticated instance of this in the Encyclopedie, article Soinnarnhide. t Even one of the inany circumsta'iccs here collected together, viz. tlie vigor and vivaciy which the mind iVcquently displays, when the body is al- most worn out with pain, sickness, and old age, had force enough to con- vince a celebrated vrit, infidel, and libertine of the last century (but who af- terwards beame a sincere convert to Christianity) that the soul was a sub- stance totally distinct from the bodv, Bee Bp, Burnzi's accur.t of Lard Ro- chester, 5th 'ed. p. 20. 21. SERMON V. 55 matter ; yet, since it is, by the supposition, distinct from the body, it docs by no means follow, that ^vhen the body dies, tlie sentient system ^vill also be dissolved and perish. The same Almighty Being that could superadd to dead matter, so extraordinary and so un- likely a power as that of thought, could also, if he pleased, with precisely the same ease, superadd to it the still fiuthcr power of surviving the grave. A ma' terhi/ soul, therefore, muy still, for any thing we know to the contrary, be an i?nmortal one. But at the same time, it must be confessed, an incorporeal essence bids so much fairer for immortality, ancl is v, ithal an opin- ion which has so much better grounds to support it, that I shall intreat your patience, while I just touch as concisely as possible, on a fev/ of the principal argu- ments w hich are usually adduced in favor of this doc- trine. It has been repeatedly shown, by some of the ablest philosophers and metaphysicians, that the complex na- ture, the di\ isibility, and the inertness of matter, are totally inconsistent -with perception, thought, con- sciousness, spontaneous motion, and all the other active and simple powers which evidently distinguish our mental part ; that all the possible arrangements, com.- binations, and modifications of figure aiid motion, can generate nothing but figure and motion, andthat it is just as credible, that the union of a taste and color should produce a sound, as that any thing so totally remote from all resemblance to the pjoperties of body, as in- telligence plainly is, should result from the mechanic- al operations of any corporeal system, however curi- ously contrived, disposed, or organized. Arguments of this kind, if unfolded and pursued to their full extent, would afford very satisfactory proofs of an incorporeal percipient. But I forbear leading you further into such discussions ; not only because they are unsuitable to this place, and would bewilder us in an endless labyrinth of minute and abstruse investiga- tions, but also for this plain reason ; because, after all, it might be said, that, although peiceplion and ref.ec- 56 SERMON V. tion cannot perhaps be ih^ natural result of mereniattef and motion, yet God certainly may, if he thinks fit,- superjiaturally annex them to a system of organized matter, such as the medullary substance of the brain probably is. Now it woiild undoubtedly be presumptous in man to decide with peremptory boldness, what is, or what is not, possible for his Creator to do, and to prescribe bounds to his almighty power ; but thus m.uch we may be allowed to say, that Omnipotence itself cannot work a contradiction ; and to our weak apprehensions it has very much the appearance of a contradiction, to ingraft self-motion, activity, intelligence, volition, conscious- ness, simplicity, and indivisibility, on a dead clod of earth ; on a substance, which if ^ve may either credit our senses, or the sentiments of the most eminent plii- losophers, is a solid, extended, compound, divisible mass, incapable of changing its own state, and making resistance to motion*. For, refine and subtilize matter as much as you please, yet still it must retain its essen- tial characteristic properties ; and it is not very credi- ble that it should have two diilerent sets of properties belonging to it, equally essential, and diametrically op- posite to each other. Of such an union as this, we have no instance in nature, nor is there any analogy that can lead us to expect it, or think it possible. No- thing less, one should think, could induce any one to adopt so harsh a conclusion, than tlie clearest and most clecishc ei}iclc?ice that there cannot possibly be any such thins: as an immaterial substance. But so far is this o from being capable of proof, that the actual existence of such substances is a truth wliich rests on the highest ^ The reader will perceive that here, and in other parts of this discourse, I adhere to the received opinion of the solidity, impenetrability, and vis inertiie of matter. At the same time, I am not ignorant that it has of late been con- troverted, and a very dift'erent system advanced, by men of considerable abil- ity. But, notwithstanding the great ingenuity of their arguments, I must confess myself not very willing to abandon the principloi of such men as Locke, Clarke, Newton, Maciaurln, 8cc &c'. ; and perhaps the intelligent reader will be disposed to think this attachment to old opinions, something more than early prejudice, when he has perused with care Mr. De Lite's Letters Morales et Physiques, torn. i. D. 10, 11, 13, 13, 14 ; wh.ere he will find this very abstruse r[uestion discussed, and in my conception decided, with a truly phylosophical penetration, clearness, and precision. SERMON V. 5? authority, and is supported by arguments which have never yet been overthrown. In the very first dawn of philosophy, two sorts of sub- stances, essentially difterent from each other, were sup- posed to exist, which were distinguished by the names of MIND and BODY. This distinction was expressly maintained by Plato, Aristotle, and almost all the an- cient Theists, from Thales down to Seneca. Many of them held also, that body, or matter, was in its own nature essentially passive, inert, and incapable of moving itself, and that the only active power in the universe ^vas mind, or incorporeal substance*. This great principle they supposed to be diffused through every part of nature f ; they conceive it to be the im- mediate cause of vegetation, and animal life, and intel- ligence, and they seem to have thought it impossible that there ever should have been any such thing as motion in the world, had there never been any substance existing in it but matter .t. This idea instead of being reprobated by the won- derful discoveries and superior lights of modern philo- sophy, receives, on the contrary, the amplest confirma- tion from them. It is well known to be an establish- ed principle of this philosophy, to be laid down as the * ^Inetvuletlex, hS^dyJai '■^v^/i Tm TTdvluv Tr^iToifJoc})}, 'yDief/.svT} re cc°X''> MiTfi-iuc,. Plato de Leg. I. x. /i. 952. Ed. Fie. Tii$ jttsv wAjjs to TTxe-^eiv iri aeci to xmi"6cir to S'e y.iviiv y.cu to Troieii tTi^ct^ ^vicciuuT. Aristotle de Qcn iJf Corn/fit. l. h. c. 9. ft. 407. Sec alio F/iys. I. viii. c. 5. p. 325. cifid Metaliliij.^ics I. xU. c. l.fi. 741. And in his book de Anim. 1. i. c. 2. he gives the opinions of several antient philosophers concerning mind, of whom the greater part agree in making it the principle of motion. ■\ See those well-known and beautiful lines in Virgil : Prlncipio aelum n terras, etc. En. l. \\.v. 724. And again, Deum naiwiue irt psr oituies, etc. Georg. iv. 1). 221. J On these principles of the ancient philosophy, is founded the plastic NATURE of the profound and learned Cudworth ; and also that hypothesis of the universal dominion of mind, and the existence of a distinct, internal, active principle in every part of nature (not excepting even inanimate sub- stances) which is maintained by the very ingenious author of a book latelr published, entitled Antient Metaphysics. This system few, I conceive, will be disposed to admit in all its extent ; but yet the lovers of antient learning and philosophy will receive from it much curious information ; and the advocates for immaterialism will find in it some new arguments ioi that doctrine welt worthy their attention. H 58 SERMON V. first and fundamental law of nature, tliat matter is irt itself perfectly mact'ii^s^ and incapable cf changing the state it happens to be in, whether of motion or of rest ; and that consequently all the motion now in the world (unless you suppose it to have been eternal) must have derived its origin from an immaterial agent. Nor is this all. Some of the most illustrious disciples of the Newtonian school contend llirther, that not only the origin of motion, but the continuance of it also, requires the perpetual agency of something difterent from, and superior to, matter. They think it clear to demonstra- tion, that all the great movements of the universe are both produced and carried on by the unremitted exer- tions of some immaterial power ; and that the existence and operation of such a power is not only probable but certain, and even absolutely necessary for the preserva- tion of the course and order of nature*. The great Author of nature himself, is confessedly an incorporeal being. He was acknowledged to be so by the most sagacious of the antient metaphysicians! ; and the most celebrated of the modern, not only thought that the immateriality of the Supreme Being was demonstra- ble, but that he had himself demonstrated itf . Assuming it therefore as an undoubted truth, that there is one incorporeal Being at least in the world, it follows that there may he more. And when we con- sider by what gradual and easy steps the scale of ex- istence ascends from inanimate matter up to man ; and • See Clarke's Dem. p. 74. D°'sEvid. of Nat. and Rev. R.cligion, p. 14, 22. lOih ed. And Maclaiirin's Account of ijir Isaac Newton's Philosophv, b. iv. c 9. s. 12, 13 p. 387. Add to this, what has been asserted, and I think proved, by writers cf considerable eniineiKC, that the properties of corpuscular attraction and re- pulsion, observable in all material substar.ces, and appealed to sometimes as proofs of their acnvity, are not powers inherent in the substances them- selves (which in that case must, in contradiction to an established rule in philosophy, act luktre-thej are not, that is, at a distance fioin their own sur- faces) bur the eft'ects oi some actl'ce principle, entirely distinct and essentisUjT different from matter. Sir Isaac Newton himself seems to have had some idea of this kind in his thoughts. Optics 2d ed. p. 376, 377. t A)ist. Metaphv I. xii. c. 7. p. 742, and lU^t Z-^-wwr, p. 944. Nee vero Deus ipse alio nnodo intelligi potest, nisi mens soluta queedam & libera. Tusc Qiixst. 1. i. c 27. X iVlr. Locke's Essav en Hum. Und. b. iv. c. 3. s. 6 ; no;e p. 167 ; and b, iv. c. 10. p. 245- 250. SERMON V. 50 what an infinite number of crcaturer; of diflcrent or- ders and properties are comprehended within these limits, it is very natural to concUide, that, in the in- visible world above us in tl^ie inmieasurable dis- tance between us and the father of spirits, there is a fur longer series and progression of spiritual beings, each rising above the other in pu- rity and perfection, than of material substances below us. This idea of the invisible world is well suited to our conceptions of the wisdom, power, and goodness of our almighty Creator, and to tliat grandeur, regu- larity, order, and harmony, which reign throughout the universe-^'. Let us now see the result of this enquiry. It may be drawn into a very narrow compass. It appears that there are the best grounds for assert- ing, not only the possible^ but the actual, existence of INCORPOrvEAL SUBSTANCES. It is certain also, that such substances are capable of active and intellectual powers ; for of such powers, infi- nitely ex..lted, is the Supreme Being himself possessed. At the same time, we sec around us other substan- ces of a very differe:it nature, whicli we call material or corporeal ; and which not only evidently appear to our senses to be inert, sluggish, passive bodies, utterly void of sensation, intelligence, and spontaneous motion, but have, by the most diligent enquiries into nature, been pronounced absolutely incapable of those properties. Now to one of those two classes of substances must that active, lively, conscious, thinking, reflect- ing power within us, which we call the soul, belong. Let reason ; let the common sense of mankind deter- mine which of them it is. On this short simple issue, must the question be- fore us ultimately rest. We leave it to every man to decide for himself, and a plain unbiassed understand- ing cannot decide wrong. Difficulties, it must be allowed, there are, attend- ing even the most probable of these two opinions, * Essay on Hum. Und. b. iii. c. 6. s. 12. m SERMON V. that of an immaterial soul. But in the apprehension of most men, I believe, they are not to be compared with those that encumber the contrary system. To suppose that the human mind, with all its wonderful faculties and powers, is formed of materials essentially the same with the pebble we tread under our feet ; and that a mass of lead, if properly organized, is capable of the sublimest flights of imagination, and of all the various attainments and exertions of the most active, vigorous, and comprehensive understanding ; is sure- ly more repugnant to the natural conceptions of man- kind, and does more violence to the very first princi- ples of what has been hitherto deemed the soundest philosophy, than any difficulties that may embarrass the doctrine of an incorporeal percipient. Even Mr. Locke himself, who had certainly no unreasonable prejudices against the capacities of matter, and must therefore be allowed to be a very impartial as well as a very able judge of the point now before us ; even he, after maturely weighing the arguments and objections on both sides of the question, acknowledges it to be m the highest degree probable^ that the soul of man is immaterial^. We may therefore safely venture to pronounce tliis opinion to be most consonant to reason and philoso- phy, as vvell as to the most received notions of man- kind. The necessary consequence of this is, that a man is a compound beings consisting of a material body, and an immaterial soul, intimately and vitally united together ; each preserving its own powers and attributes distinct, yet acting in perfect concord and harmony with each other, In what manner, and by what means, they are so united, and how two such dissimilar substances can reciprocally influence and act upon each other, is indeed more than we are able * Essay on Hum. Und. b. Iv. c. 3. s. 6. Note, p. 141, and 143. Wliilst I know, by seeing or hearing, &c. that there is so.ne corporeal being without ine, the object of that sensation, I do inore certainly hnov:, that there is some ^pi'iturd being within me, that sees and hears. This I Tiiiist be convinced caU' not be the action of bare insensible matter ; nor ever could be, -witiJout an iirt: inatcriai thinkivg being. lb. b. xj. ch, 23. s. 15. p. 255, SERMON V. 61 to comprehend. But this can never be justly urged against the reality of such an union, unless it be laid down as a maxim in philosophy, that the strength or weakness of our conceptions is the measure of truth and falsehood, and that every thing which we do not perfectly understand is therefore impossible. We can just as easily conceive the connexion and mutual influ- ence of soul and body, as we can explain how the mi- nute component particles of matter cohere so firmly to- gether, as to form what wc call solid extension ; how the whole process of vegetation is carried on through all its successive stages ; how the food of animals is converted into nutriment, and contributes to their sup- port and grow th ; how finite matter can be infinitely divisible ; and how two mathematical lines, indefinite- ly produced, can be for e\er approaching each other, and yet never meet*. When these, and a thousand other truths, equally incomprehensible, yet incontro- vertible, in almost every branch of science, and eve- ry part of nature, are made perfectly clear and intelli- gible, it will then be time enough to show how the soul and body are linked together, and rendered capa- ble of acting on each other. In the mean while, it is evident, that in the wide range of creation there was sufficient room for such a combination as this ; and reasoning from analogy, it was natural to suppose that there should be, somewhere or other, such a complex being as man, composed of a material body and an immaterial soul, and thus uniting together the visible and invisible world ; just as, in the various orders and gradations of beings ascending up to man, we see that in passing from one class of exist- ence to another, there is always some one species that * Nous ne savons ni comment nous recevons la vie, ni comment nous la donnons, ni comment nous croissons, ni coiriment nous digerons, ni com- 7nent nous dormons, ni comment nous pensons, ni comment nous sentons. Notre nature, celle de I'univers, celle de la moindre plante, tout est pbnge pour nous dans un gouffre de tenebres. Voltaire, ^cstions sur r£ncyciope- die, article Ame. p. 176, 190 !sit not astonishing ihataman, whocould thus frankly acknowledge the inscrutable mysteries of nature, in almost every part of the universe, should yet object to and ridicule the mysteries of |est. t. i. c. 22. -J See ubovc, n. i'd. 64 SERMON V. cr. A being such as this, let the nature of the hiiman soul be what it will, can raise it, if he pleases, from any supposable situation after death, to another state of existence, and restore to it that perception of its identity, that consciousness of its former sentiments and conduct, which will render it a proper subject of punishment or reward. Should it therefore appear (as in the two following discourses I trust it will) that from considering the nature and attributes of God, the faculties of man, and the constitution of the world in which he is placed, there are the best grounds for be- lieving that he is an accountable beings we may rest assured, that of ivhate'uer materials his sentient part is composed. Omnipotence will not w^ant the means of placing him hereafter in an accountable state. SERMON VI. Mattkew XXV. 46. And these shall go aivay into everlasting fiunishment : but the righteous into life eternal. THE arguments advanced in the foregoing dis- course, are, I conceive, sufficient to shew, that, as far as Ave are able to comprehend the nature of the human soul, we have reason to conclude it is a distinct and an immaterial substance, and of course capable of surviving the dissolution of the body. But these, as I have already observed are far from being the only or the most decisive proofs of a future existence. There are other still plainer and more satisfactory evidences of that important truth, discoverable even by the light of nature, which I shall now proceed to open and lay before you. I. Consider, in the first place, the many excellent fiiculties of the human soul; the imagination, memo- ry, reason, judgment, will ; the vast variety and rapidity of its operations ; the power it has of receiving such a multitude of ideas from external objects ; of de- positing them in the store-house of the memory for many years; of drav/iiig them out again for use when- ever it thinks fit ; of comparing, arranging, combining, and diversifying them in such an infinite number of ways ; of reflecting, meditating, and reasoning upon them ; of comprehending such a prodigious number ofdiflcrent arts and sciences ; of creating the exquisite beauties and refined delights of music, painting and I 66 SERMON VI. pioetry * of carrying on, through a long train of tTc- pendent propositions, the most abstruse and intricate speculations; of extracting, from a few plain, self- evident axioms, a demonstration of the most sublime and astonishing truths ; of penetrating into every part of the material, the vegetable, the animal, the intellectual world ; of conceiving and executing so many wise and beneficial designs ; of turning its eye inward upon itself; of observing and regulating its own movements; of refining, purifying, and exalt- ing its affections ; of bringing itself, by a proper course of discipline and self-government to bear with patience the acutest pains and the heaviest afflictions : to face with intrepidity the greatest dangers ; to restrain its strongest passions ; to resist the most inviting tempta- tions ; to exert, upon occasion, the most heroic forti- tude ; to renounce, for the sake of conscience and of du- I ty, all that this world has to eive ; to abstract itself from all earthly enjoyments ; to live as it were out of the bo- dy ; to carry its views and hopes to the remotest futu- rity, and raise itself to the contemplation and the love of divine and spiritual things. Consider, now, wheth- er it be probable, that a being possessed of such aston- ishing powers as these, should be designed for this life only ; should be sent so richly furnished into the world merely to live a few years in anxiety and misery, and then to perish for ever ? Is it credible, is it possible, that the m.ighty soul of Ne^vton should share exactly the same fate with the vilest insect that crawls upon the ground ; that, after having laid open the mysteries of nature, and pushed its discoveries almost to the very bour.d:.ries of the universe, it should on a sudden have all its lights at once extinguished, and sink into ever- lasting darkricss and insensibility ? To what purpose all this waste and profusion of talents, if their operation is to be limited to this short period of existence? Why are we made so like immortal beings, if mortality is to be our lot ? ^Vhat need was there, that this little vessel of ours should be fitted out and provided with stores sufiicient to carry it tlirough the vast ocean of eternity^ SERMON VI. 67 if, at the same time, its voyage was meant to be confin- ed v. ithin the narrow straits of the present life ? In- stinct \\ ould have served for this purpose as well as reason, would have conducted us through the Morld Avith as much safety, and with less pain, than all our boasted intellectual endowments. II. Another presumption in favor of a future state, is the perpetual progress of the soul towards perfection ^ and its endless capacity of further improvements and Lirger acquisitions. This argument has been set in so strong and beautiful a light, by one of our finest writers*, that it is hardly possible to' do justice to it in any other words than his own. " A brute," says he, *' arrives at a point of perfection, which he can never pass. In a i^w years, he has all the endowments he is capable of, and were he to live ten thousand more, he would be tlie same thing he is at present. Were a human soul thus at a stand in her accomplishments ; were her fac- ulties full blown, and incapable of further enlargement ; I could imagine she might fall away insensibly, and then drop at once into a state of annihilation. But who can believe that a thinking being, which is in a perpetu- al progress of improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfection, must perish at her first setting- out, and be stopped short in the very beginning of her enquiries ? Death overtakes her, while there is yet an unbounded prospect of knowledge open to her view, whilst the conquest over her passion is still incomplete, and much is still wanted of that perfect standard of vir- tue, which she is always aiming at, but can never reach. Would an infinitely wise Being create such glorious creatures for so mean a purpose ; or can he delight in the production of such abortive intelligences ? Would he give us talents, which are never fully to be exerted, and capacities which are never to be filled ? Is it not far more reasonable to suppose, that man is not sent into the world merely to propagate his kind ; to provide himself with a successor, and then to quit his post : but, that those short-lived generations of rational * Mr. Addisou. 68 SERMON VI. creatures, which rise up and disappear in such quick succession, are only to receive their first rudiments of existence here, and then to be transplanted to some more friendly climate, where they may spread and flourish ; where they may go on from strength to strength ; where they may shine for ever with new ac- cessions of glory, and brighten to all eternity* ?" III. There is, in the human mind, a constant and a natural tendency towords futurity. Our thoughts are perpetually Vv^andering from the present moment, and looking forwards to something that is to take place here- after. Be our happiness ever so great, yet it is not suf- ficient to gratify and content the soul. There is always a void left in it, which can never be filled up without calling in the aid of futurity, without the anticipation of something more than we at present possess. Whatever may chance to be our ruling passion, whether it be the love of wealth, of power, of honor, of pleasure, we are scarce ever satisfied with that share of it which we en- joy ; but are always thirsting and reaching after more, are perpetually forming projects from which we pro- mise ourselves greater satisfaction than any we have yet experienced. There is constantly some favorite ob- ject in view, some point to be obtained ; and " we are continually hurrying over some period of our existence, in order to arrive at certain imaginary stations or rest- ing-places," where we hope to find that quiet and con- tent which has hitherto eluded our search. - We reach those wished-for situations, but " we find no rest for the sole of our feet -j-." The imaginary horizon of our project flies before us as we advance ; no sooner do we gain one eminence, than another instantly appears be- yond it ; and when that is passed, still others present themselves in endless succession to our view. Thus are we continually drawn on through life with the same delusive -expectations. We live upon the future, though the future constantly deceives us ; we continue grasping * spectator. No. 111. The whole of this inimitable paper (of which the substance only, with a few variations, is here given) is highly v,-crthy of the attention of the reader. f Geiiesis viii. 9. SERMON VI. 69 at distant happiness, though it always escapes out of our hands, and go on to the very end, pressing forwards towards some imagined good, with the same eagerness and alacrity as if we had never suffered the least disap- pointment in our pursuit. There are two other passions, that respect futurity^ belonging to our constitution, no less remarkable; and these are, the love of life^ and the desire of fame. The former of these is common to all mankind. There is a natural dread of extinction planted in every human breast. The soul shrinks back with horror from the thoughts of annihilation. It cannot bear the idea of sinking into nothing, and sharing the fate of that body which it used to animate and inform. There may indeed be some men so profligate as to pleajje themselves with the thought of having their Vvhole existence terminated in the grave, and of re- nouncing all expectation of a future reviviscence. But the reason of this is, not because they have no desire to continue in being, but because tlie}^ dread 7Z(7;z-existence less than a miserable existence, m hich, if there be another state, they are sure must be their lot. It is this fear which over-rules their natural love of hfe. Take away this, and they would be as averse to anni- hilation as the rest of mankind*. Akin to this desire of continuing our existence, is the desire of continuing our memory beyond the grave. This was the chief source of all those noble disinter- ested, and public-spirited actions, which vrc admire so much in some of the antient Pagans. We^ indeed, \\)ho kiioiv^ that, " if our earthly house of this taber- *' nacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, *' a house not made with hands, eternal in the heav- *' ensf," and that consequently our name is not the only part of us that shall escape the hand of death * This dread of extinction, and passionate love of life, seem to have op- crated with surprising force on the minds of the antients, and are expressed by them sometimes in the stronq;est and most emphatical terms. That fa- mous vvish of Meca:nas, Debilcm Jcicitovianu, c'c. which Seneca, who quotes it, justly calls, Turpis.iimimi votum, is not the only instance of thij kind. Vid. Senec. Ep. 101. aiid Lipsius's notes on the passage, t 2 Cor. V. 1. 70 SERMON VI, have much higher and more powerful incentives to vir- tuous conduct than the prospect of an ideal immortal- ity. Yet still, ideal as it is, and utterly unworthy to be compared with that substantial and truly glorious eternity which is reserved for us in the heavens, it has notwithstanding no small influence upon our hearts. Nor is this the case only with men of exalted minds and cultivated understandings, but in some degree even with the lowest and most ignorant of mankind. Al- most every one is desirous of leaving a reputable char- acter behind him, of being celebrated after he is gone, by the little circle of his friends, for his good sense or his good humor, his charity or hospitality, his honesty or fidelity ; and every church-yard we see is full of the iittle artifices of humble ambition to secure some small portion of posthumous renov/n. There are perhaps a i'tw, who, during their lives may be, or seem to be, indifferent as to the judgment of posterity concerning them. But yet even these, when they are on the point of leaving the world, are commonly as solicitous as any others to clear up any thing that effects their char- acter, and to guard their memories v/ith all the care they can against misrepresentation and calumny. Al- though they may have no desire of a great name, yet they cannot forbear wishing to have a good one, or at least not to have a bad one ; a clear proof that they are far from being unconcerned about their future reputa- tion. We may therefore safely affirm, that the love of fame is in some degree or other universal. We are al- most all influenced by it to do things from which we can reap no present credit or advantage, and of which, perhaps, the Vv-orld v/ill know notliing till after our de- cease. When our own times are unjust to us, we ap- peal to future ages for redress ; and we have always some kind friend on whose care and tenderness we rely for the vindication of our conduct, if it should stand in need of it when we are gone. Takins: then toQCther all that has been said on this strong leaning of the soul tovoards futurity ; its con- stant dissatisfaction widi present enjoyments, and in- SERMON VJ. 71 cessaiit pursuit of distant happiness ; its strong desire of life and immortality, and its fondness for the good- will and applause of posterity ; w hat shall we infer from tliis remarkable construction of the human mind ? Has a wise and a good God furnished us with desires which have no correspondent objects, and raised ex- pectations in our breasts, with no other view but to disappoint them ? Are we to be for ever in search of happiness, without arriving at it, cither in this world or the next ? Are we formed with a passionate longing for immortality, and yet destined to perish after this short peciod of existence ? Are we prompted to the noblest actions, and supported through life, under the severest hardships and most delicate temptations, by the hopes of a reward, which is visionary and chimer- ical, by the expectation of praises of which it is utterly impossible for us ever to have the least knovvledge or enjoyment*? These suppositions are utterly irrecon- cilcable with our apprehensions of God's moral per- fections, and his usual method of treating us. *' It is net his way to lead us by illusions and deceits. He has not, in any other instance, given us natural propensi- ties, Mhich he knew at the same time there was no possibility of gratifying, nor filled us with unavoidable apprehensions of what should never come to passf." Why then should we imagine th'St he has done so in llie case before us, and in that only ? Is it not infinitely more reasonable to conclude, that our appetite for im'- ir:ortality has, like all other appetites, its pro]:er means of gratification ; that the natural bent and tender.cy of the soul towards futurity is a plain indication, that to futurity it is consigned ; that it is intended for another state of existence, where it v.ill find that satisfaction it looks for here in vain ; and where hope will at length be swallowed up in enjoj'ment : * It was cvidciv.ly the opinion of the excellent Archbishop Seeker, that ve shall in another state be b, 4( 4. t Clarke. 72 SERMON VI. IV. The same conclusion follows from viewing man on the moral side. That variety of faculties with which he is endowed, and the circumstances in which he is placed, plainly prove him to be an accmtntahle be- ing. Human actions are evidently distinguishable into two sorts, between which there is an essential and un- alterable difference. Some are naturally riglit and good, others naturally wrong and evil. God has im- pressed upon our minds a strong internal sense of this difference, together with an approbation of what is right, and a disapprobation of what is wrong. He has also given us reason to direct us, where natural sentiment happens to fail, and, by the joint operation of these two principles, he has clearly intimated to us what course of action he requires us to pursue. Hence arises a plain rule for the direction of our mor- al conduct. Appetite, passion, temptation, prompt us to transgress this rule ; instinct, reason, interest, duty, lead us to conform to it. We have undeniably the power to chuse which side we please ; can either give way to irregular desires, or control and over-rule them by superior considerations. Now, if we were to suppose a being, purposely framed in such a manner as to be justly accountable for its proceedings, one cannot imagine any constitution better adapted to this end, than that of man which we have just described. And when to this you add, that there is a superior who has a right to call him to an account, a Superior v.'ho gave him a rule to walk by, and to whom it can- not be indifferent whether he transg-resses that rule or o not ; who can have a doubt, but that God will in some other state examine into the use he has made of his talents in this ? V. If, from considering man, we ascend to God, the evidence for a future state rises considerably in its importance and strength. If he is possessed of all those perfections which we usually and justly ascribe to him, he cannot but approve virtue and abhor vice, and cannot but give the plainest indications that he does so. His holiness must incline him to love and SERMON VI. 73 favor the good, to detest and discourage the bad. His justice must naturally lead him to distinguish be- tween his faithful and his rebellious subjects, ami to make a wide difference in his respective treatment of them. His wisdom must prompt, and his power ena- ble him to assert the dignity of his government, and the authority of his laws, by rewarding those ulio ob- serve, and punishing those who transgress them, in such a manner as to convince the whole world, that every human being shall be a gainer by obedience, and a loser by disobedience. Now it is a truth universally admitted, that the virtuous are not always rewarded, nor the vicious punished in this world, agreeably to their deserts. For although the natural effect of virtue is happiness, and of vice misery ; and although, in ge- neral, these effects do follow even here, yet in several instances they most evidently do not. We sometimes see men of the very worst principles and practices go- ing on in a full tide of worldly prosperity, enjoying a large share of every thing this life has to give, riches, honors, rank, power, health of body and cheerfulness of mind, " coming in no misfortune like other folk," and not " plagued" with cares and aiHictions " like other men^." On the other hand, we may observe but too often, that the best and worthiest of mankind are destined from their earliest years to struggle with the severest hardships and calamities ; with poverty, disappointments, undutiful children, unkind friends, inveterate enemies, perhaps too with strong passions, constitutional distempers, and a depression of spirits, w hich embitters every enjoyment, and would render the most prosperous conditioi\ of life insupportable. I'heii' principles too, and motives, are frequently misrepre- sented, their purest and most bene^-olent intentions rendered odious, and those actions which dcser\c the applause and admiration of mankind, expose them per- haps to the g;T)ssest obloquy, persecution, and distress. When the anlient Pagans beheld such instances as these, they cried out immediately. Where are the gods ? • I'salin Ixxiil. 5. K U SERMON VI. Who will ever believe that Providence concerns itself in human affairs ? Who indeed Vvdll believe it, if these disorders are permitted, without any notice taken of them here, or any intention to rectify them hereafter ? Is it possible to conceive that the wise, and righteous, and all-powerful Governor of the universe, will suffer his laws to be trampled under foot, his religion ridi- culed and despised, his faithful servants calumniated, insulted, oppressed, and yet never once stretch forth his arm to chastise the bold, triumphant offender, and to recompense the injured helpless man ; to vindicate his reputation in the eyes of all mankind ; to make his " righteousness as clear as the light, his just dealing as " the noon-day;" and to make him ample amends in another life, for the indignities and afflictions he has un- dergone in this ? That such a retribution will actually take place, we shall have still further reason to conclude, if we con- sider, VI. Sixthly, that the constitution of this world is exactly such as might be expected, if it vvas to be fol-^ lowed by another. Supposing a future judgment to be a thing certain and allowed, it would then be natural to imagine, that our situation here would be such as should be a proper trial and ])robation, and preparation for that future judg- ment. Now this, we find, is actually the case. This life has every conceivable appearance of being a scene oi trial ^n<\ probation y intended to fit and train us up, by a proper course of exercise and discipline, for ano- ther and a better state of existence. The faculties we are furnished with, and the constitution of the world we are placed in, precisely answer to this idea, and to no other. Good and evil are placed before us, we have a power of chusing which VvC please, and we know all the consequences of our choice. A system of affec- tions is given us, to excite us to action ; a variety of objects is distributed around, to work on these affec- tions ; we have opportunities of indulging, and we have motives for restraining, them. We are allured bv SERMON VI. 75 pleasure, by interest, by power, with no other view but to give proof of our moderation, our integrity, our dis- interestedness. The provocations, injuries, and aflionts we constantly meet with, are so many trials of our tem- per,, forbearance, and placability: the afflictions and calamities of various kinds, \vhich fall to our lot, are only instruments in the hands of Providence to exercise and improve our patience, fortitude, humility, meek- ness, resignation. Whatever road of life we take, ob- structions and inconveniencies, cares and difficulties, quickly start up before us, to oppose our progress, and to render necessary the utmost exertions of our pru- dence, circumspection, industry and perseverance. Even those irreligious and licentious writings that do so much mischief, give occasion, at the same time, to the friends of religion, to manifest their zeal and their abilities in the d^ence of insulted decency, and of di- vine truth. That unequal allotment also of worldly blessings, which is so constant a subject of discontent and complaint, is only a part of the same general plan of moral improvement and probationary discipline. The ^vealthy and the indigent, the high and the low, the powerful and the weak, are brought together on the same great theatre of action, in order to " provoke one " another to good w^orks," and to be the mutual instru- ments of drawing forth the good qualities suited to their respective stations. And in the same manner, through- out the whole intercourse of human life, the collision of opposite tempers, situations, employments, interests, passions, and pursuits, strikes out of our souls those sparks of virtue, which would otherwise, probably, never have been called forth to view*. It is a fact, then, which will admit of no dispute, that we are actually tried, here, almost ever}' moment of our lives. We ourselves, in common speech, call our afflictions trials ; and we feel, to our cost, that they are really so. If this be granted, it follows that this world is confessedly a state of probation ; the necessary consequence of which is, a state of retribution. For, * See Dr. Ilorbcn'a Sermons, D. 15. 76 SERMON VI. it would be as absurd to suppose, that we should be tried, without being rewarded or punished, as that we should be rewarded or punished without giving any proofs that we deserve either. These two things are correlatives, and mutually infer each other. They are evidently parts of the same design, the beginning and the end of one wise plan of government, which we cannot suppose to be left imperfect or incomplete, Mdthout arraigning the wisdom and the justice of its divine author. It is not his custom to do his M'ork by halves. Whatever he enters upon he will accomplish. Every thing we know of him, and his proceedings, convince us that he must, and he himself declares to all the world that he M'ill. " When I begin," says he, *' I will also make an end*.'* VIL Strong as these arguments are in themselves in favor of a future state, it is no small confirmation of them, that there has been a general propensity and in- clination in almost all mankind, in every period and every country of the world, to believe the existence of the soul after death, and to entertain some notions, however imperfect and confused, of a future recom- pence. With regard to the anlient Heathens, we have the testimony of one of the greatest men amongst themf , that there was an universal agreement of all people upon the earth, in this great point ; and he makes this common consent one of his chief proofs of the immortality of the soul. And from that time to this, amidst all the discoveries that have been made, in every part of the globe, there has never yet, I be- lieve, been found one single nation, ho\vcver savage or barbarous, that has not had some apprehensions or suspicions of another state of being after this. Even those that are said (though but on very doubtful evi- dence) to have no notion of a Supreme Being, and to be destitute, not only of religious principle, but also, in some respects, of moral sentiment ; yet all concur f 1 Sam. iii. 12. f Cicero. Tusc. Qusest. 1. i. SERMON VI. 77 in believing the existence of the soul after death*. It is true, indeed, that there \vere, among the antient Pagans, some sects of philosophers who doubted, and others who denied, a future retribution. But the number of these, in comparison of the whole class of the common people who believed it, was but small. And nothing ought to be concluded against the preva- lence of a natural sentiment, from the fanciful notions of a few conceited sophists ; whose pride it has ever been to show their ingenuity in combating the plainest truths, merely because they iverc plain, and to check the voice of reason and of nature, by perplexing sub- tleties, and unintelligible refinements. But the human understanding left to itself, and free from all artificial bias and constraint, has a very strong propensity to the belief of a future judgment. And, although in the notions both of the antient Heathens, and of our mod- ern savages, concerning it, there is great obscurity, imcertainty, and confusion, with a strange mixture of the most absurd and fabulous imaginations, so as to produce little or no effects upon their hearts and lives ; yet still they all tend to evince the natural tendency of the human mind to this opinion. And the happy re- gions of the Thracianf, the sensual paradise of Ma- homet, the elysium of the Greeks, and the pleasant mountains of the Indians, all agree in one common principle, the continuation of our being after death, and the distribution of certain rewards and punishr ments in another life. • See Locke's Essay on Hum. Und. h. i. c. 3- s. 9. Robertson's Hist. oF America, b. iv. p. 389. Account of Voyages to the Southern Hemisphere, published by Hawkesworth, vol. ii. p. 236 — 239, 4to. 1st ed. Tillotson, sermon. 174. It is remarkable, that the immortality of the soul is believed by all the savage tribes of America, from one end of that immense comi- fieut to the other. f bpe Herodotus, i. iv. p. 252, ed. Gronov. I iiiiiiiwijnwan— amLWBg. uBig'ijijiJjAJWf SERMON VII. Matthew xxv. 46. And these shall go away into everlasting punishmcJit : but the righteous into life eternal. I HAVE now given you a general delineation of the natural and moral evidences for the immortali- ty of the human soul, and a state of future recom- pence ; and although each of them, singly considered, cannot be said to be absolutely conclusive, yet, when taken collectively they amount to a very high degree of probability ; a degree which would render it the extremity of folly for any one to act (which yet is but too common a case with those who reject revelation) as if it Vv'as a decided pointy that there is no state of existence but the present. How totally opposite such an assumption would be to every dictate of nature and reason, will appear still more evident, if we now very briefly dra^v together into one point of view the several arguments that have been stated in the two preceding discourses, and then see how the case stands on the two contrary suppositions, that there is, and that there is 7iot^ a future state of retribution. In the first place, then, if we admit that this life is the whole of our being, what a strange and unac- countable scene of things presents itself ? We have in that case an active principle within us, which has every imaginable appearance of being distinct from the body, immaterial, indiscerptible, and indissolu- ble ; yet it turns out to be nothing more than mere SERMON VII. 79 matter, endued with qualities diametrically opposite to its most essential properties ; it is dissolved with the body, and loses all sensation, consciousness, and reflection for ever, in the grave. We are evidently distinguished from, and raised above, the brutes, by a variety of astonishing faculties and powers, which seem plainly designed for some nobler scene of action than this ; yet with the brutes xve perish, and all the rich endowments of our minds are wasted on us to no purpose. We are daily mxking advances both in knowledge and virtue ; we have a large field of improvement, both moral and intellectual before our eyes ; yet in the very midst of our progress we are stopped short by the hand of death, and never reach that state of perfection, of which wc seem capable, and which we ardently desire. We are formed with ideas and expectations of hap- piness, which arc everlastingly disappointed ; with a thirst for future fame, of which we shall never be conscious ; with a passionate longing for immortali- ty, which Avas never meant to be gratified. Every part of our constitution shovvS that we arc accountable for our conduct, every remorse of con- science is a proof that we are so ; there is a superior, \vho has given us a rule to walk by, v\ho has a right to enquire w hcther we have conformed to that rule ; yet that cnquir}' is nc\:cr made. The world in vvhidi we are placed is one continued scene of probation. W'e appear to be sent into it with no other view, but to shew how we can behave, uiider all that variety of dimcult and distressful cir- cumstances into which, by one means or other, Vvc are continually tlirown. Yet our behavior passes totally unregarded. We perform our j-»arts, but the Judge who has tried us forgets to perform his. Our trial is finished, and no consequences follow ; no sen- tence is pronounced ; v.e are neither rewarded for hiiving acted well, nor punished for having acted ill. 80 SERMON VII. We conceive ourselves to he the subjects of an Almighty governor, who has given us a system of laws for our direction. Yet he appears to be perfectly in- different whether we observe those laws or not. His iriends and his enemies fl\re frequently alike. Nay, the former are often punished with the heaviest afflic- tions, and the latter rewarded with every earthly enjoy- ment. There has, in fine, been, frotn the first ages of the world down to this moment, an almost universal agreement and consent of all mankind in the belief or apprehension of a future state of existence ; and yet this turns out to be nothing more than a delusive im- agination, though impressed so deeply by nature itself on every human breast. What now can be imagined more strange and in- explicable ; more absurd and inconsistent ; more replete with disorder, confusion, and misery; more unworthy the wisdom, the justice, the goodness of the Supreme Being, than the frame of man, and the constitution of the world, according to the re- presentation here given of them ? But when, on the other hand, you extend your view beyond the limits of this life, and take in the con- sideration o^ another, what an alteration does this iii- stantly make in the appearance of every thing within and without us ! The mist that before rested on the face of the earth vanishes av\'ay, and discovers a scene of the utmost order, beauty, harmony, and regularity. The moment our relation to another world is kno^^ n, all perplexity is cleared up, and all inconsistencies are reconciled. We then find ourselves composed of two parts, a materiiii body and an immaterial soul ; and the seem- ingly incompatible properties of matter and spirit in- stead of being intermixed and incorporated together in one substance, have each their distinct province assign- ed them in our couipound frame, and reside in sepa- rate substances suited to their respective nati.'ires. But though diftlrent from each other, they are closely \ini- SERMON Vir. 81 ted together. By this union we are allied both to the visible and invisible, the material and the spiritual world, and stand as it were on the confines of each. And when the body reverts to earth, the soul betakes itself to that world of immortal spirits to which it be- longs. Those extraordinary faculties and powers of the hu- man mind, which seem far beyond what the uses of this short life require, become highly proper and suitable to a being that is designed for eternity, and are nothing more than what is necessary to prepare it for that hea- venly country which is its proper home, and is to be its everlasting abode. There they will have full room to open and expand themselves, and to display a degree of vigor and activity not to be attained in the present life. There they will go on improving to all eternity, and acquire that state of perfection to which they are always tending, but have not lime in this world to ar- rive at. When once it Is certain that we are to give an account of ourselves hereafter, there is then a plain reason why we are free agents ; why a rule is given us to walk by ; why we have a power of deviating from, or conforming to it ; why, in short, we undergo a previous examina- tion at the bar of our consciences before we appear at the tribunal of our great Judge. Our earnest thirst for fame, for happiness, for immor- tality, will, on the supposition of a future existence, serve some better purpose than to disappoint and dis- tress us. They are all natural desires, with objects that correspond to them ; and will each of them meet with that gratification in another life, which they in vain look for in this. Nay, even that unequal distribution of good and evil, at which we are so apt to repine, and those heavy af- flictions that sometimes press so hard upon the best of men, are all capable of an easy solution, the moment we take a future life into the account. This world is then only part of a system. It was never intended for a state of rctributiouj but of probatioju Here we arc L S^ SERMON VII. only tried ; it is hereafter we are to be rewarded or punished. The evils we meet with, considered in this light, assume a very different aspect. They are wise, and even benevolent provisions, to put our virtues to the proof ; to produce in us that temper, and those dis- positions, which are necessary preparations for immor- tal glory. Thus does the supposition of a future state clear up every difficulty, and disperse the darkness, that other- wise hangs over this part of God's creation. Willi this light of immortality held up before us, we can find our way through the obscurest parts of God's moral go- vernment, and give a satisfactory account of his deal- ings with mankind. It is therefore a most convincing proof of the reaHty of a future state, that it answers so many excellent purposes, and seems so indispensably necessary to give harmony and regularity to the designs of the Almighty in the formation of this globe, and its inhabitants, and to be the finishing and winding up of one uniform and consistent plan of divine conduct. For, as in the material ivorld, ^vhen we find that the principle of gravitation, upon being applied to the se veral parts of the universe, explains, in thejustest and most elegant manner, the situations, appearances, and influences of the heavenly bodies, and even accounts for all the seeming irregularity and eccentricity of their motions, we make no scruple of allowing the existence and the operation of such a pov.er : so in the moral system^ when we see that the admission of another life gives an easy solution of the most surprizing and other- wise unaccountable phenomena ; and is, as it were, a master key, that unlocks every intricacy, and opens to us the great plan of Providence in the administration of human afiairs ; we can no longer, without doing vio- lence to every rule of just reasoning, refuse our assent to the truth and reality of such a state. From this collective view of those argyments fi^r a future existence, which are the result of our ov. n re- searches on the subject, it appears, that when combined together, they form a very strong body of evidence in support of that great truth. SERMON VU. J8S . Tliis evidence has, Indeed, as I before observed, been represented by some to be so forcible and decisive, as to render the aid of Revelation on this point totally un- necessary. But so far is this from being the case, that (Jje very clearness with which ^\ c are now enabled to de- duce the reality of a future retribution from the princi- ples of reason, will itself lead us to a very convincing proof of the absolute necessity there was for some su- perior light to instruct and direct mankind, in this and other doctrines of the utmost importance to their pre- sent and future happiness. It has been shown that in every age and nation of the world, the belief of another lif;^ after this, has been strongly and universally impressed on the minds of the common people. It has been shown also, that besides these natural impressions, we may, by a proper exer- tion of our reasoning pov/ers, and by considering the question attentively in various points of view, draw to- gether a great number of strong presumptive proofs in support of the same important truth. From these pre- mises one should naturally conclude, that all the great sages of antiquity, those wise, and venerable^ and learn- . ed men, who cultivated letters and philosophy with so much reputation and success, who were the guides and luminaries, the instructors and legislators of the Hea- then world, Vvould have been among the very first to embrace the idea of a future retribution ; to see more clearly, andfeclmorcforcibly, than any others, the united testimony of nature and of reason in its behalf; to rec- tify the mistakes and refine the gross conceptions of the vulgar concerning it ; to clear away the rubbish with which the fictions of the poets, and the superstitions of the people, had cloggecl and corrupted the genuine sentiments of nature ; and, by delivering, in their wri- tings, a clear, consistent, rational, methodical exposi- tion of this great truth, to establish it for ever in the minds of men, and convert an article of popuhu" belief into a fundamental tenet of the reigning philosophy. This, I say, it was natural to expect frow them; and had they done this, there might have been some pre- 84 SERMON VII. tence for asserting that there was no need of any fur- ther light on this subject. But what is the real state of the case ? Look into the writings of the antient phi- losophers, respecting a future retribution, and (with kw if any exceptions) you see nothing but embarrass- jnent, confusion, inconsistence, and contradiction. In one page you will find them expatiating with apparent satisfaction on the arguments then commonly produced for the immortality of the soul, and a state of recom- pence hereafter ; answering the several objections to them with great acuteness, illustrating them with won- derful ingenuity and art, adorning them with all the charms of their eloquence, declaring their entire as- sent to them, and protesting that nothing should ever wrest from them this delightful persuasion, the very joy and comfort of their souls. In another page the scene is totally changed. They unsay almost every thing they had said before. They doubt, they fluctuate, they despond, they disbelieve*. They laugh at the popular notions of future punishments and rewards, but they substitute nothing more rational or satisfactory in their room. Nay, what is still more extraordinary, al- though they all acknowledged, that the belief of a future life and a future recompence, was an universal princi- ple of nature ; that it was what all mankind with one voice concurred and agreed in ; yet, notwithstanding this, many of them seem even to bave taken pains to stifle this voice of nature within them ; and considered it as a 'victory of the greatest importance to subdue and extinguish those notices of a future judgment, which, in despite of themselves, they found springing up with- in their own breasts, f What now shall we say to this remarkable fact, this singular phenomenon in the history of the human * Necio qqomodo, dum lego, assentior ; cum posui librum Sc mecum ipse de im mortalitate animoi-umcaepi cogitare, assensio omnis illabitur. 71«c. ^(est. I. i. c. 11. And again, Dubitans, circumspectans, hsesitans, multa adversa f revertens, tanquam ratis in mari immenso nostra vehitur Oratio c. 30. — A most lively picture of the fluctuation and uncertainty of their minds on this subject. t See Virgil Georg. ii. v. 490. Lucretius, 1. i. v. 80. and 1. S. v. oT ; and Tusc. Qufcst. 1. i. c. 21. J Reverens. Lavis. SERMON VIT. 85 mind ? Can there possibly be a more striking proof that Philosophy, divine philosophy (as it is sometimes call- ed) which is now frequently set up as the rival of Rev- elation, was in general utterly unable to lead men to the acknowledgment of one of the plainest, and most important, and most rational truths in natural religion ; that, instead of aiding the suggestions of nature, and confirming the dictates of reason, it perplexed the one, and resisted the other ; and that some of the greatest and most learned men of antiquity, exactly answered the description given of them in Scripture ; " profess- *' ing themselves to be wise, they became fools*:" Though superior to all the rest of the world in philo- sophy and literary attainments, yet in some great points of religious knowledge, they sunk frequently even be- low the meanest of the people. They ran counter, in short, to the common sense of mankind, and philoso- phized themselves out of truths, which we novj see, and which the bulk of men even tJje?! saw, to be con- formable to the most natural sentiments of the human mind. It was therefore highly proper, it was indispensably necessary, that God himself should interpose in a case of such infinite importance ; that Revelation should come to the aid of nature and of reason ; should restore them to their original force and po\A er ; should rescue them out of the hands of science, falsely so called ■[, whose province, in matters of religion, it has common- ly been to spoil mankind with vain deceit J, and to lead those wrong, whom their ov/n good sense and uncor- rupted judgment would probably have directed right. The truth is (but it is a truth which the Freethinker has always been very unwilling to admit) that Christian- ity has, in fact, contributed very greatly to that impro- ved state, and advantageous point of view, in which na- tural religion now appears to us ; and many of those who reject the authority of the Gospel, are, without knowing it perhaps, most certainly without owning it, Jliade wiser by its discoveries. In the present instance, * Rom. i. 23. f 1 Tim. vi. 20. + Col. ii. 8. B6 SERMON VII. particularly, the divine light of Revelation has thrown a brightness on the distant prospect beyond the grave j which has brought out to view, and rendered more dis- tinct, even to the eye of reason^ a variety of obscure points, which w'ere before invisible to her unassisted sight. Hence the remarkable difference there is be- tween the reasonings of the antients and the moderns on this question. Hence the force, the clearness, the decision, that appear in the one ; the perplexity, fee- bleness, and uncertainty that distinguish the other. Of this, no other probable cause can be assigned, than that the Pagan philosopher had nothing but the ivisdom of this ixiolrd to guide his researches into a future state ; whereas the Christian, and even the Deistical philoso- pher, comes to the enquiry with his mind full of those ideas, which an early acquaintance with Revelation has imperceptibly impressed upon him. To explore a road, which is entirely unknown to us, by a feeble and a dubious light, is a totally different thing from endeavoring to trace it out again by the same light, after it has been once shown to us in broad and open day. The former is the case of the antients, and the latter of the moderns, in respect to a future life. But besides the beneftt derived from Revelation in this respect, there are other advantages, of the utmost impotance, which the Gospel doctrine of life and IMMORTALITY brings along with it ; and which gives its evidences an infinite superiority over those of na- tural religion. . The principal of these are, 1st. The certainty and authority of ito proofs. 2dly. Their plainness and perspicuity. 3dly. The nature and duration of its rewards. 1st. The certainty and authority of its proofs. After giving every possible advantage to the natural evidences of a future state, it must be acknowledged, that they amount to nothing more than great probabil- ity. They cannot afford that demonstratrce certainty and assurance of this great truth, which is essentially necessary for the complete satisfaction and comfort of SERMON VIL 87 the mind, in so very interesting a point, and for ren- dering this doctrine a motive of sufficient weight to influence the hearts and regulate the conduct of man- kind. Neither of diese eftects could nature and rea- son (universally as they had difiuscd the belief of a fu- ture existence) produce in the heathen world. This the writings of their philosophers, and the manners of their people, inconteslibly prove. To the Gospel a- lone we are indebted, for the ejit'ire removal of all doubt and uncertainty on this subject ; for raising hope into confidence, and a mere specidathe notion into a vi- tal and most powerful principle of action. It is evi- dent, that nothing less than an express Revelation from God himself could do this. He who first brought us into being, can alone give us authentic information^ how long that being shall be continued, and in what manner he will dispose of us hereafter. This infor- mation he has given us in the Scriptures, and has giv- en it in such plain and explicit, and awful terms, as must carry conviction to every unprejudiced under- standing, and lecivc the deepest and most useful im- pressions on every well-disposed mind. 2. Another benefit we derive from Revelation on this head, i,., x[-\q. plainner.s and perspicuity of its proofs. A great part of those evidences of a future state, which reason furnishes, require a considerable degree of atten- tion and consideration, and are therefore better adapted to men of a contemplative, philosophic turn, than to the generality of mankind, who have neither leisure, nor in( lination, nor abilities, to enter into long and ab- struse disquisitions on this or any other question of im- portance. But the arguments of the Gospel are (and thanks be to God that they are) of quite a different sort. It sets before us die declarations of God him- self, " That there shall be a resurrection of the dead, '•' both of the just and the unjust ; that God hath ap- *' pointed a day in m hich he will judge the world in "righteousness; and that we must all appear before " the judgment-seat of CI. rist, that every one may re- " ceive the things dene in his body, according to that 88 SERMON VII. " he hath done, whether it be good or bad*.'' Ttf convince us, not only of the possibility, but of the certainty, of so wonderful an event, it appeals to facts ; it shews us Christ himself, " risen from the dead, *' and become the first fruits of them that slept.'* It afterwards exhibits him to us in a still more il- lustrious point of view. It represents him as " com- *' ing in the clouds of heaven, with power and great *' glory, to judge the world. The trumpet sounds, *' and the dead, both small and great, are raised up ; *' and before him are gathered" (what an awful and astonishing spectacle !) " all the nations of the *' EARTH ; and he separates them one from another, *' as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. *' The books are opened and he judge th them out of *' the things that are written in the books, according to *' their works ; and the wicked go away into ever- *' lasting punishment : but the righteous into life *' eternal f." These are not profound and curious speculations, beyond the reach of common apprehensions. They are plain facts^ and solemn denunciations from the "very highest authority, speaking with equal force to all ranks of men, and, by their simplicity and dignity, adapted no less to the capacity of the illiterate than to the most exalted conceptions of the learned. Hence it has come to pass, that these divine truths being preached to the poor as well as to the rich (a circumstance peculiar to the Gospel, and therefore mentioned as one of its dis- tinguishing characteristics J,) have conveyed to the ve- ry humblest disciples of Christ far clearer ideas, and juster notions, of a future state, than were to be found in all the celebrated schools of philosophy at Athens or at Rome. 3. But there is still another point, and that of tiie utmost consequence, respecting a future state, in which tlie infinite superiority of Revelation to the light of na- * Acts xxiv. 15 ; xvU. 3 ; 2 Cor. v. 10. ^ Matt. x.\iv. 30. xxv. 32. 46. 1 Cor. sv. 52. Rev. xx. 13. \ Matt. xi. 5. SERMON VII. • 89 ture must evidently appear. And that is, the nature arid duration of the rewards which it i:>roniises. The utmost that reason can pretend to is, to prove that we shall survive the grave ; that we shall exist in another world ; and that there the w icked shall be pun- ished according to their demerits, and the good re- warded with such a degree of happiness, as their vir- tues and their sufll'rings here seem in justice to require. This is all that is necessary to vindicate the ways of God to mankind ; and therefore beyond this, our own reasoning powers, and our natural expectations, can- not go. Indeed the very best aiid wisest of the Pa- gan philosophers did not go near so flir as this. Some of them, although they believed the existence of the soul after death, yet denied that it would exist for ev- er^. Odiers admitted its eternity, but did not allow- that it passed into a state of rewards and punishments. They supposed it would be resolved into the univer- sal SPIRIT from which it was originally detached. And even of those who acknowledged a future retri- bution, many asserted that the punishments only were eternal, the rewards of a temporary naturef i And in- deed it must be owned, that there are no prhiciples of natural religion, which give us any ground to hope for a state of felicity hereafter, unmixed and perfect in its kind, beyond all conception great^ and in duration endless. It is from Revelation only we learn \h^Xsuch shall be the rewards " of the righteous ; that God *' shall \A'ipe away all tears from their eyes, and there " shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying; " that he will give them glory, and honor, and im- " mortality; that they shall go away into life eternal, " and enter into the joy of their Lord; that in his " presence there is fullness ofjoy, and pleasures forever- *' more ; that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nei- " ther have entered into the heart of man, the good " things which God hath prepared for them that ^love *' hinij". Stoici — din mansuros aiiint animos, semper negant. Tus. Qiirest. '• "'• ^^- 1^- t Div. Leg. vol. ii. p. 109. \ Rev vii. 27 ; Horn. ii. 7 ; Matth. v\v. 21. 36 ; Psalm xvi. 11 ; 1 Cor. n. y. jH m SERMON VII. In these, and many> other passages of the same na^ ture, we are expressly assured, that both our exist- ence and our happiness hereafter shall be, in the strict- est sense of the word, e-uer lasting. This, none but God himself could promise, or when promised, fulfil. It is more than the utmost sagacity of human reason could discover, more than the utmost perfection of hu- man virtue could claim. Eternal life, therefore, is constantly and justly represented in Scripture as the GIFT, the FREE GIFT of God, througli Jesus Christ* ;^ and were it on this account only, it might be truly said, " that life and immortality were brought to light " through the Gospel f." Mark then, I entreat you, in conclusion, mark the difference between the ivisdom of man. and that imsdom ijohieh is from aboise. The former, as you have just seen in the instance of the antient philosophers, does violence, by its false refinements in some of the most essential truths of religion, to the clearest principles of nature and of reason. The latter illustrates, corrobo- rates, improves, and perfects them. This has been shown to be the case in one very important doctrine, and might be shown in more. Our divine Master is indeed, in every instance, and especially in that we have been now considering, " the way, the truth, " AND the life X ;" and whenever we are tempted to desert this heavenly guide, and to go away, either to philosophy or to any other instructor, we have our an- swer ready prepared for us, in that noble and afiecting reply of St. Peter to Jesus, " Lord, to whom shall we *' go ? Thou hast the words of eternal life : and " we believe and are sure that thou art that christ, *' the son of the living god *[[." ♦ RoiM. V. 18 ; vi. 33. f 2 Tim. i. 10. \ John xiv. 6. % lb. vi. 68, 6?. SERMON VIII. Titus ii. 6. Yotmg men li/ceivite exhort to be sober-minded. THERE is scarce any subject of exhortation so ne- cessary to youth, as that which is here recom- mended by St. PauL i\,lacrity, emulation, benevolence, frankness, generosity, are almost the natural growth of that enchanting age. What it chiefly wants is some- thing to regulate and temper these good qualities ; and to do that is the province of sober-mindedness. Let not the young man be frighted with the solemnity of the name. It implies nothing unsuitable to his years, or inconsistent with his most valuable enjoyments. It tends to improve his cheerfulness, though it may re- strain his extravagancies ; to give the warmth of his imagination and the vigor of his understanding a right direction ; to single out such enterprizes for him as are M'orthy of his natural vivacity and ardor ; to prevent his talents and industry from becoming mischievous, his pleasures from proving ruinous, and to render his pur- suits subservient, not only to present delight, but to substantial and permanent happiness. It is evident that there is both a moral and an intel- lectual sobriety; a modest reserve, a rational guard upon ourselves, not only in acting, but in thinking : and the original word cn^tp^ovav, which we translate, to be sober -minded., includes both these kinds of sobriety. Its primary signification is, to be wise, prudent, temperate; and this wisdom chiefly consists, ©2 SERMON Vlir. I. In the government of the passions. II. In the government of the understanding. First then, we are commanded to teach youn^^ncn the government of their passions. " To flee youthful *' lusts*," is an apostolical admonition, not very grate- ful, perhaps, to youthful ears ; but so indispensably re- quisite both to temporal and eternal happiness, that it must, at all events, and by every possible means, be inculcated and enforced. It comprehends all those ir- regular desires, to the influence of which is owing much the greatest part of the vice and misery that desolate mankind. " From whence come wars and fightings " among you ? Come they not hence, even of your *' lusts, which war in your members t •'"' From whence (mavweadd) come murders, frauds, breaches of trust, violations of the marriage- bed, the ruin of unguarded and unsuspecting innocence, the distress and disgrace of worthy families, the corruption and subversion of whole kingdoms ? Come they not all from one and the same impure source, from the violence of headstrong and unruly appetites, which, in pursuit of some unlaw- ful object, burst through all rcstntints of decency, jus- tice, honor, humanity, gratitude ; and throw down ev- ery barrier, however sacred, that stands between them and the attainment of their end ? The passions, then, must be governed, or they will govern us ; and, like all other slaves when in posses- sion of power, will become the most savage and merci- less of tyrants. But at what time shall we begin to go- vern them ? The very moment, surely, that they begin to raise commotions in the soul ; the moment we know, from conscience, from reason, from revelation, that the gratifications they require ought not to be granted. This period may in some be earlier than in others ; but it can scarce ever be later in any, than the usual time of being transplanted to this place %- Here then you ought at once to enter on the disposition of your studies and the regulation of your desires. There is no danger of your undertaking so arduous and necessa- * 2 Tim. ii. 22. f James iv. 1. :j; Cambridge ; where this sermon was prcrvclicd. See table of contents. SERMON VIII. 95 ly a task too soon. If you hope to acquire any autho- rity over \'our passions, you must inure them to early obdRience, and bend them to the yoke m hile they are yet pliant and flexible. It will, even then, indeed be a difiicult task. But what is there worth having that is to be obtained without difticulties .'' They are insepara- ble from a state of probation, and youth is the proper time for subduing them. In other instances, the ob^ structions you encounter serve only to stimulate your industry and animate your eflforts ; and why then not in this ? Be the discouragements what they will, the consequence is not, that you ought to desist from tiie attempt, but that you ought to begin the sooner. For these obstacles, instead of lessening, v. ill grow upon your hands ; every moment you delay, ^^'ill but rivet your chains the faster, and give habit time to strengthen appetite. Besides, you have here advantages and helps towards this great work, which no other place, no other time, can afford. The retirement you cnjor from the great world, and the admirable order here estabiished, were purposely meant to assist you in the science of self-government, no less than in the acquisition of learning. The exclusion of all the most dangerous al- lurements to vice, of those amusements w hich excite die softer passions, of those cares and contests Vv-hich provoke more violent emotions ; the frequent gnd sta- ted returns of divine v.-orship, the exact distribution of time, the allotment of almost every hour to its proper employment, the necessity of a modest and uniform ap- parel, of temperate and public meals, of reposing at night under one common roof; all these things are most wisely calculated to keep the attention fixed on ir.nocent and useful objects, to curb the imagination, to restrain extravagant desires, to induce habits of modesty, hu- mility, temperance, frugality, obedience ; in one word, SOBER-MINDEDNESS. It may be thought, perliaps, that the regulation of dress, and diet, and amusement, and such-like trifles, are below the notice of a great and learned body. But it is a mistake to think so. O-dcr und regularity in the minutest points, tend to introduce. S4 SERMON VIII. them, nay, are necessary to introduce them, in th« greatest ; accustom the mind to restraint, and insensi- bly form it to the practice of vigilance and self-denial. It is, in short, the excellent discipline established in these societies, which is their greatest glory, and must be their firmest support. It is what most eminently distinguishes the universities of Great Britain from all others in the world, and justly renders diem the admira- tion of every one whom curiosity draws from other climes to visit them. This distinction, then, so honor- able to ourselves, so beneficial to those we educate, it is of the utmost importance for us to maintain with in- flexible firmness and resolution. We cannot, without some hazard, give up the smallest article of good gov- eniment : but in those points which relate immediately to morals, the least relaxation must tend to subvert our credit, and even endanger our existence. In a place sacred to virtue and religion, no species of vice, no kind of temptation to vice, can, for one moment, be tol- erated or connived at. We shall not be allowed to say in our defence, that we only keep pace with the man- ners of the age : this will be deemed our reproach ra- ther than our excuse. It ?.s our business, not meanly " to follow a multitude to do evil ;" not to conforra to the corrupt fashions of the times, but by our precepts and our. example to fortify our young disciples against them. It is evident that the world expects from us a more than ordinary degree of watchfulness over our conduct. It expects that the correction of national abuses should beghi here. And the expectation is not unreasonable. Whence should ireneral reformation take its rise, if ever it rise at all, but from the two great sources of Learning and Religion ? We are as lights set on an eminence, shining at present indeed, hi n dark place^ in the midst of luxury and profusion, but able, perhaps, by degrees, to disperse the gloom of the sur- rounding prospect. If we cannot check the excesses of the present age, we may at least crush future extra- vagancies in their birth, by infusing into our youth those lessons and those habits of frugality, abstinence, and SERMON VIII. 9S sober-mindedness, which are essential to the welfare both of the universities and of the state. II. The other great branch of sober-mindedness, which we must recommend to young men, is the gov- ernment of the understanding. There is a great variety of intellectual errors, into which, without a proper conduct of the understanding, or, in other words, without a sound and well- cultiva- ted judgment, the young student will be extremely apt to fall. Of these I shall single out only one, a- gainst which it seems at present more peculiarly ne- cessary to caution him, and that is an insatiable thirst for noi^elty. The Athenians, wc know, in the decline of their state, '' spent their time in nothing else but " either to tell or to hear some new thing*". In this respect, whatever may be the case in others, we fall very little short of that elegant but corrupt people ; and the greater part of those who write for popular ap- plause, are determined at any rate to gratify this ex- travagant passion. For this purpose they hold it ne- cessary to depart, as far as possible, from the plain direct road of nature, simplicity, and good sense ; which being unfortunately pre-occupied by those great masters of composition, the antients, and such of the moderns as have trod in their steps, leave them no room in that walk for the distinction at which they aim. They strike out therefore into untried and path- less regions, and there strain every nerve, and put in practice every artifice, to catch the attention and excite the wonder of mankind. Hence all those various cor- ruptions in literature, those aftectations of singularity and originality, those quaint conceits, abrupt digres- sions, indecent allusions, wild starts of fancy, and every other obliquity of a distorted wit, which vitiate the taste, corrupt the morals, and pervert the princi- ples of young and injudicious readersf . Hence too all those late profound discoveries — that to give youth * Acts xvii. 21. t Certain eccentric compositions are here alluded to, which were at that time (1767) inuch in fashion, and have as usual produced a multitude of wretched imitators of a specie« of writing which does not admit> and is not worthy, of iinitatioit. 96 SERMON Vllt. a religious education is to fill them with bigotry anci prejudice ; that the right way to teach morality is to make vice appear amiable ; that true wisdom and phi- losophy consist in doubting of every thing, in com- bating all received opinions, and confounding the most obvious dictates of comm.on sense in the inexplicable mazes of metaphysical refinement ; that all establish- ments, civil or religious, are iniquitous and pernicious usurpations on the liberties of mankind ; that the on- ly v/ay to be a good Christian, is to disbelieve above one half of the Gospel ; that piety and self-govern- ment are duties not worth a wise man's notice ; that benevolence is the sum of all virtue and all religion, and that one great proof of our benevolence is to set mankind afloat in uncertainty, and make them as un- easy and hopeless as we can. When these positions are thus collected together, and proposed without sophistry or disguise to a plain understanding, they appear more like the feverish dreams of a disordered imagination, than the serious assertions of sober and reasonable men. And yet they are notoriously nothing more than a faithful com- pendium of what some of the most favorite authors of the age, both foreign and domestic, avowedly re- commend to us, as maxims of wisdom and rules of conduct. Were they actually adopted as such by the bulk of the people, it is easy to see what wild w^ork they would make in society. In effect, the recent op- portunities we have had in this island, of observing the ridiculous extravagancies resulting from those principles, and the infinite absurdities of a practice formed on the too- pre vailing system of modern ethics, are abundantly sufficient to convince us of their utter unfitness for the uses and the duties of common life, as well as for the purposes of the life to come. It be- hoves us, therefore, to guard our young disciples, with the utmost care, against this visionary fiintastic philosophy, which owes its birth to the concurrence of much vanity and little judgment with a warm and ungoverned imaginatiouj and is studious to reconi" SERMON Vlir. 97 mend itself by the united charms of novelty and elo- quence. Tliese are indeed to youn<^- minds attractions almost irresistible ; but yet a riglit culture of the un- derstanding will be an effectual security against them ; and, with some few improvements, there cannot, per- haps, be a better for that purpose, than the course of study marked out by the wisdom of the university to the youth of this place ; and which, to their praise be it spoken, is pursued by them with astonishing applica- tion and success. That judicious mixture of polite letters and philo- sophic sciences, which is the necessary preparative for their first degree, is admirably calculated at once to refine their taste, enlarge their notions, and exalt their minds. By beginning in the first place with classi- cal LITERATURE, and improving the acquaintance they have already made with the best and purest wri- ters of antiquity, they will insensibly acquire a relish for true simplicity and chastity of composition. They will learn strength and clearness of conception, accura- cy, order, correctness, copiousness, elegance and dig- nity of expression. They will find that the most justly approved writers of our own times hiZvc formed themselves on those great models ; and (as one, who well understood what originality was, expresses him- self ) they will perceive that, "a true genius is not any bold writer, who breaks through the rules of de- cency to distinguish himself by the singularity of his opinions ; but one who, on a deserving subject, is able to open new scenes, and discover a vein of true and noble thinking, which never entered into any im- ngination before ; every stroke of whose pen is worth all the paper blotted by hundreds of others in the whole course of their lives*. The cultivation of Locie, at the same time, and the most useful and practical branches of the mathe- matics (which are excellent examples of severe rea- soning and sagacious investigation) will also be of sin- * Swift's proposal for correcting, improving, and ascertaining the Eng- liili ton;jue ; in a letter to lord Oxford. N 98 SERMON VIII. gular use in preserving our youth from error, in every subsequent part of knowledge. It will teach them to arrange, and methodize, and connect their thoughts ; to examine the arguments of others with a nice and critical penetration ; to pursue them through a long- concatenation of dependent propositions, and discover whether any link in the chain of proofs be wanting ; to distinguish sense from sound, ideas from words, hasty and peremptory decisions fom just and legiti- mate conclusions. It w ill put them upon their guard against bold and novel opinions, especially if address- ed to the imagination by strokes of \vit, or to the heart by affecting descriptions, rather than to the un- derstanding by sound and conclusive reasoning. By keeping their judgment in constant exercise, it will improve and strengthen that excellent and useful, but little regarded, faculty. It will instruct them in the several degrees of certainty, and the various kinds of proof, of which different subjects are capable ; the just grounds of doubt, assent, or disbelief; the true limits and extent of the human understanding ; that precise point, in short, at which our curiosity ought to stop, and beyond which, all is uncertainty, conjecture, and darkness. The first suitable employment of our minds, thus improved, is to turn their new-acquired sagacity in- ward upon themselves, and, with the help of the best ethical writers, antient and modern, to make a careful inspection into their own wonderful fnime and consti- tution. This leads us into the province of moral PHiLosorHY ; by the aid of which we shall perceive more distinctly the nature and true value of the ration- al, the social, the selfish principles of action within us, and what tenor of life they point out to us as best ac- commodated to our circumstances, and calculated to produce the most substantial happiness. By leading young people early into such enquiries as these, many things may be taught them of unspeakable use to them- selves and others, and many admirable rules suggested to them for the regulation of their future conduct. SERMON VIII. 99 After this survey of the moral, it is time to contem- plate the wonders of the material world. The great volume of nature is therefore now open upon the stu- dent. He is led by the hand of science through all the astonishing and sublime discoveries of the Newtoni- an PHILOSOPHY. He is made acquainted with the se- veral properties of matter, in all its various forms and modifications, on this globe of earth ; and furnished Avith principles for increasing and improving the con- veniences of common life. He is then transported to distant planets and other worlds. He investigates the laws that p-overn their revolutions, and the forces that retain them in their orbits. " He considers the sun *' when it shineth, and the moon v.-alking in bright- " ness*," and all the host of heaven standing in array before him : and sometimes extends his thoughts even beyond these, beyond the reach of sense, to new firma- ments and new lights, rising up to his imagination, in endless succession, through the regions of unbounded space. But so far is he from being "• secretly enticedf ," as some have formerly been, to convert his admiration of these glorious luminaries, into an impious adoration of them, that they serve only, as they naturally should do, to ciirry him up to their great Author, even the " Father of lights ±." He sees the deity plainly writ- ten in these splendid characters, he derives from them thejustest and most magnificent conceptions of his na- ture and attributes, and thus lays a firm and solid foun- dation for the superstructure of natural religion, which forms the next great object of his attention. In the pursuit of this most important branch of know- ledge, he will perceive how far the powers of nature and of reason are capable of going, in establishing those great fundamental truths of religion ; the being of a God, a superintending Providence, a moral govern- ment of the universe, the essential and unalterable dif- ference between right and wrong, virtue and vice, a fu- ture state of existence and of retribution, and the obli- gations which such a system of things imposes on every * Job xxxi. 26. f lb. xxxi. 27. X James i. If. 100 SERiMON VIII. rational agent to conform his conduct to the will of the Creator ; as far as it can be collected from the consti- tution of the world, from the genuine sentiments of na- ture, the faculties of the human mind, and the attributes of the Deity himself. In these researches, he will find light enough to determine an honest and unprejudiced mind to the belief of all the above-mentioned momen- tous doctrines, and obscurity enough to make him ear- nestly wish for clearer evidence, and more authentic information, on subjects of such infinite importance. After these enquiries, the student's next advance is to METAPHYSICAL SPECULATIONS. TllCSC, it mUSt be owned, have been but too often employed in under- mining and subverting the clearest principles of mora- lity and religion. But when carried only to a certain point, under the direction of a sound judgment and an honest mind, some knowledge of them may be attend- ed wdth singular advantages*. It will secure the young student from beins: cauQ-ht in the snares which sonhists sometimes wxave out of those slender materials ; will teach him to abstract and generalize, and simplify his ideas ; will qualify him to drag out falsehood and scep- ticism from the midst of those obscure, and intricate, and crooked mazes, in which they love to wander ; to detect the endless errors, into which excessive subtilty and false refinement must necessarily lead us ; to per- ceive that a quick understanding may as easily miss the middle point where truth resides, by going beyond it, as a dull one, by falling short of it ; and that there are in religion, as in all sciences, certain primary and funda- mental truths, which are only obscured by much rea- soning, and which, after having been once firmly es- tablished, should bo laid up as first principles in the mind, where no subtle objections or acute distinctions should be allowed to weaken or destroy their force. * A verey convincing proof of this we have lately had, in that most mas- terly piece of reasoniag, called Divine Benevolence asserted, &.c. by Dr. Bal- guy. Whoever has read this with the attention it requires and deserves, will most earnestly v/ish that nothing may prevent the learned author from gratifying the public with that larger ivorkf of which the treatise we are speaking of is only a small specimen. SERMON VIII. 101 Thus do each of the several branches of learning, AA hich compose the plan ofediication in this jilace, con- tribute something towards the sober-mindedness recommended by St. Paul. And, what is of still greater importance, the fund of knowledge which our youth will probably acquire in tlie prosecution of these stu- dies, nay even the very diliicultics wluch may sometimes obstruct their progress, ^vill gradually prepare their un- derstandings for the admission of still nobler ideas, and sublimer contemplations. In their pursuit, more espe- cially, of moral and religious truth, they will fmd, as I before remarked, so much wanting to give complete satisfaction to the mind, that they cannot but see the absolute necessity of some more perfect system of doc- trines and of duties, to supply the many defects of na- tural religion, to strengthen its obligations, to enforce it with proper sanctions, and to give it a viial and ef- fectual influence upon the heart. Under the impressign of such reflections as these, it is obvious that there cannot be a more proper time for carrying the young academic still one step further, and giving him some insight into the nature, the design, the evidences, and the precepts of the christian reve- lation. But here unfortunately we are obliged to stop. For this most important part of education no adequate^ no public provision is yet made in this university. Reveal- ed religion has not yet a proper rank assigned it here among the other initiatory sciences ; is not made an indispensable qualification for academical honors and re- wards ; has not, in short, all that regard paid to it, which its own intrinsic worth, and the peculiar circum- stances at- present attending it, seem to demand. It is well known, that an unbounded freedom is now indulged to the publication of the most licentious opin- ions ; and that these are'not, as formerly, confined to bulky volumes of infidelity, or to dull and phlegmatic reasoners; but ate dispersed throughout the nation in the most commodious and pleasing vehicles, in works offiincy and amusement, and even useful information, 102 SERMON VIII. which diffuse irreligion almost imperce[|>tibly through the kingdom, and on which men of real genius do not scruple to waste their time and misapply their talents. These are the books most likely to fall into the hands, and to captivate the hearts, of young men of rank and fortune at that very dangerous period of life, when they first leave their colleges to mingle in the great world ; and on these, if they have not here been taught sound- er principles and better things, they will most probably form their notions of religion, and regulate their fu- ture conduct. x\dd to this that a very great part of those who are bred up among us to the church, and from whose pious labors we must chiefly hope for a re- medy to these evils, are frequently obliged, by the straitness of their circumstances, to enter on the mini- sterial office within a very short time after they have ta- ken their first degree, and are, many of them, immedi- ately engaged in large and laborious cures. If therefore, they have not before this time acquired some tolerable knowledge of their profession, hovv' can they undertake to explain the Gospel to others, and defend it against so many formidable opposers ? In the two other learned professions, law and physic, a regular course of study in the theory of each is generally deemed requisite, before those who engage in either think it safe or creditable to venture on the prac- tical part of their business. And it ^vill be diffi, cult, I conceive, to assign a satisfactory reason, why a competent fund of professional knowledge is not equally necessary to the divine, previous to his embark- ing in the various and laborious functions of his. sacred calling ; unless it be maintained, that the future salva- tion of mankind is a matter of less importance than their temporal property or their bodily health. Does it not then seem highly adviseable for us to turn our thoughts a little more towards this great ob- ject than has been hitherto deemed requisite ? It is true, indeed, that some acquaintance with the abstru- ser sciences may be a very proper foundation even for theological learning. But it cannot surely be necessa- SERMON VIII. 103 ry to la)'' this foundation so exceedingly deep as is here generally done. It cannot be necessary to consume the flower and vigor of the youthful mind, in the very first stage as it were of its literary progress ; to occu- py it wholly for three entire years in these preparatory studies, when it should be going on to the " principles" and elements at least " of the doctrine of Christ* ;" should be advancing gradually from the foundation to the superstructure ; should be learning under wise and experienced " master-builders," to erect that sacred edifice of divine knowledge, ^v•hich must he its strong hold and fortress against the many adversaries it will soon have to contend w iih. If this great w ork is not carried on to a certain point, during the course of ed- ucation in this place ; when can we hope that it ever w ill ? They who come here with a view to the means, not of acquiring, but of adorning a fortune, no sooner quit this literary retirement, than they engage with ar- dor in the various pursuits of fashionable life, and have, seldom either inclination or leisure for studies of a seri- ous nature. They who are destined to secular profes- sions, or odier active employments, find themselves, after leaving this place, so fully occupied, first in learning, and then discharging, the duties of their re- spective vocations, that they can scarce ever bring themselves to bestow tliat degree of attention on reli- gious enquiries which their importance deserves. It is here, then, or no where, that this great object must be brought home to their thoughts, and msde a part, wi essential part, of their academic acquirements. And this necessity (as I have already remarked) is still more apparent with respect to those \\\\o are sent here to qualify themselves for the pastoral office ; whose pe- culiar province and business it will be to insti'uct the . people committed to their care *' in the words of eter- '* nal life," and who must therefore never expose themselves to the hazard of that insulting question, *' Thou that teachest another, tcachcst ihou not first thyself:" *Heb. yi. 1. 104 SERMON Vill. It must be acknowledged, indeed, and it is ac- knowledged with pleasure, that in many private col- leges, the great outlines of the Christian dispensation are, by the excellent tutors with which this place abounds, explained and illustrated in a very able man- ner, to their respective pupils. But if there be any weight in what has been here suggested, it will be well worthy of our consideration, whether something more than this is not now become necessary ; whether it will not be highly suitable to the dignity, the sanctity of this truly respectable and learned body, to lend the whole weight of their authority to so good a cause ; to assist private instructions by public incitement ; to give some signal academical encouragement to this branch of knowledge, something that should make the cultivation of it not only highly reputable but indis- pensably necessary. And, fortunately for us, the way is easy and open to the execution of any such design. That noble spirit of emulation, which so eminently distinguishes the youth of this place, and pushes them on to the most wonderful attainments in the abstrusest sciences, affords us an opportunity, which no other seminary in the world can furnish, of raising whatever fruit we please from so generous a stock. We have only to make revealed religion an essential pan of unique rsity learnings and assign to it a proper share of the usual honorary reward?,, ar*^J * it wi)I soon be pursued with the same ardor of mind and vigor of application, as all the other parts of litera- ture. The current of study amongst us, which was generally thought to run too strongly towards ma- thematical subjects, has of late years, by means of the excellent institutions in favor of classical learning, been, in some degree, diverted into another and more useful course. By the method here proposed, (or any other of the same tendency which should be judged more eligible) there would be one more, and that a still nobler channel opened to it : and some few of those many hours, and those fine talents, which are still, I fear, too lavi^Iily v/asted here on abstract SERMON VIII. 105 speculations, in the most precious and improveablc part of life, would be then more profitably employed in learning the rudiments of evangelical truth ; and thereby enabling one part of our youth to preserve their religious principles uncorruptcd by the artifices of infidelity, in their future commerce with the world ; and the other part to become powerful defenders and successful dispensers of the word of God*. This university had, in the conclusion of the last century, the honor of giving birth to a stupendous sys- tem of philosophy, erected by its great disciple New- ton, on the immoveable basis of experiment and de- monstration ; which, by degrees, supplanted and over- threw a visionary though ingenious representation of nature, drawn by fancy, and supported by conjecture. Animated with this success, let it now endeavor to push its conquest still further into the regions of ignorance and error, to banish from the kingdom the extrava- gant conceits of modern scepticism, no less destitute of all foundation in truth, utility, and sound reasoning, than the philosophical romance of Descartes ; and to establish for ever in the minds of the British youth, a, religion founded not on " the enticing words of man's *' wisdom," but on '' demonstration of the spirit and of *' the power of God t«" This will be to promote, in the most eftectual man- ner the benevolent purposes of those great and pious benefactors we are now going to commemorate ; whose frst object in these magnificent foundations was, un- * Since the first publication of this sermon, some advance has been made towards the accomplishment of the Author's wishes. Mr. Norris, a gentleman of fortune in Norfolk (into whose hands some extracts from this discourse happened to fall) left by his will, a few years ago, a rent- charge of a hundred guineas a-year for the establishment and maintenance of a Professor in the university of Cambridge, for the sole purpose of read- ing lectures to the students there, on tlie Christian Revelation. To this he added twelve pounds a-vear for a medal and some books, as a premium for the best prose English essay on the same subject. It would be a real conso- lation to the friends of religion, and es}>eciaUy to those whore: province it is to exainine candidates for orders, if these well-meant institutions, in con- junction with any other subsidiary one which the wisdom of the university- might think lit to adopt, should in due time eiTectually answer the gvcatpiVr- poses enlarged ujjon and recommended in the preceding pages. •| 1 Cor. ii. 4, 5. o L X06 SERMON VIII. doubtedly, the advancement of religion ; who, w ith a true greatness of soul, carried their views forward into eternity y and plainly meant that in these elegant retreats y we should not only lay the foundations of immortal fame on earth, but qualify ourselves for obtaining, through the merits of our Redeemer, a real and truly glorious immortality in heaven. SERMON IX. Deuteronomy v. 12. Keej} the Sabbath-day^ to sanctify it, as the Lord thy God hath com- manded thee. THE appropriation of one day in seven to the pur- poses of religion, is a practice peculiar to the Je\vish and the Christian revelations. And it is a prac- tice so full of wisdom, utiHty, and humanity, that it may well be produced as one argument, among many others still more convincing, of their divine original. By comparing together the primary institution of the sabbath, as related in the Book of Genesis, and the alterations it afterwards received from our Saviour and his apostles, it is evident that the Cbistian sabbath is to be considered under two distinct points of view. First. As a day of rest from labor. Secondly. As a day set apart for the public wor- ship of God. I. As a day of rest from labor. This rest was, by the Mosaic law, so rigorously ex- acted, that the violation of it was prohibited under no less a penalty than that of death*. Our divine Mas- ter, in this as well as in many other instances, greatly softened the severity of that law. But yet it was plain- ly his intention, that there should be a general cessation of labor on this day. The original reason for this part Gf the institution still subsisted in his days, and musi * ExoJ. XXXV. 2. 108 SERMON IX. subsist till the end of time ; namely, that it might be a standing memorial of the great nork of creation, from which the Almighty Author of it rested^ or ceased, on the seventh day, and therefore he blessed and sanctifi- ed that day for ever. To this Christ himself added another reason, of a similar nature ; having on the following day rested from the great work of redemp- tion, which he completed by rising from the dead. Our abstinence, therefore from the ordinary occupations of life on the Lord's Day, is a tacit kind of acknowledg- ment that we were created by God, and redeemed by Christ, and that we are duly sensible of the duties re- sulting from those relations. It appears, moreover, that our Lord himself very religiously observed the rest of the sabbath ; which he no otherwise interrupt- ed than by miracles of mercy and compassion. And we may most certainly conclude, that the very same benevolence of disposition which dictated these hu- mane exceptions, would prompt him also to improve and enforce, both by his doctrine and example, the ge- neral rule o^7-esting on the seventh day. For never was there any injunction so replete with kindness and com- passion to the whole human race, especially to the low- est and most wretched part of it, as this. There can- not be a more pleasing or a more consolatory idea pre- sented to the human mind, than that of 0J7e imhersal pause of labor throughout the whole Christian world at the same moment of time ; diffusing rest, comfort, and peace through a large part of the habitable globe, and affording ease and refreshment, not only to the lowest part of our own species, but to our fellow- laborers in the brute creation. Even these are enabled to join in this silent act of adoration, this mute kind of homage to the great Lord of all ; and although they are incapa- ble of any sentiment of religion, yet by this means they become sharers in the blessings of it. Every man of the least sensibility must see, must feel the beauty and utility of such an institution as this ; and must see, at the same time, the cruelty of invading this most valua- ble privilege of the inferior class of mankind, and SERMON IX. 109 breaking in upon that sacred repose, which God him- self has, in pity to their suflerings, given to those that stand most in need of it. It was a point in which it higlilv became the majesty and the goodness of heaven itself to interpose. And happy m as it for the world that it did so. For, had man, unfeeling man, been left to himself, with no other spur to compassion than na- tural instinct, or unassisted reason, there is but too much ground to apprehend he would have been deaf to the cries of his laboring brethren, would have harassed and M'orn them out with incessant toil ; and when they implored, by looks and signs of distress, some little in- termission, A\'ould perhaps have answered them in the language of Pharaoh's task-masters, " Ye are idle, ye *' are idle. There shall not aught of your daily tasks " be diminished ; let inore ivork be laid upon them, " that they may labor therein*-." That this is no uncandid representation of the natural hardness of the human heart, till it is subdued and sof- tened by the influences of divine grace, we have but too many unanswerable proofs, in the savage treatment which the slaves of the antients, even of the most civ- ilized and polished antients, met with from dieir unre- lenting masters. To them, alas ! there was no sab- bath, no seventh day of rest ! The whole week, the whole year, was, in general, with but few exceptions, one uninterrupted round of labor, tyranny, and op- pression. To these inliumanities the merciful temper of our religion has in a great measure put an end ; but there are others, arising from the most shameful intrusions on the sacred leisure of the sabbath, which it has not yet been able to overcome. Look into the streets of this great metropolis on the Lord's Day, and see whether they convey the idea of a day of rest. Do not our servants and our cattle seem to be almost as fully occupied on that day as on any other ? And, as if this was not a sufficient infringement of their rights, we contrive, by needless entertainments at home, and * ExoJ. V. 9. 11. 17. no SERMON IX. needless journies abroad, M^hich are often hy choice and inclination reseriicd for this very day, to take up all the little remaining part of their leisure time. A sabbath- day's journey was, among the Jews, a proverbial ex- pression for a very short owc^. Among us it can have no such meaning affixed to it. That day seems to be considered by too many, as set apart, by divine and human authority, for the purpose, not of rcst^ but of its direct opposite, the labor of travelling ; thus ad- ding one day more of torment to those generous but wretched animals whose services they hire ; and who, being generally strained beyond their strength the oth- er six days of the week, have of all creatures under heaven, the best and most equitable claim to suspen- sion of labor on the seventh. Considerations such as these may perhaps appear to some below the dignity of this place, and the solemnity of a Christian assem- bly. But benevolence, even to the brute creation, is, in its degree, a duty, no less than to our own species ; and it is mentioned by Solomon as a striking feature in the character of a 'righteous man, that " he is merci- " ful even to his beast." He, without whose permis- sion " not a sparrow falls to the ground, and who feed- ^' eth the young ravens that call upon him," will not suffer even the meanest work of his hands to be treat- ed cruelly with impunity. He is the common father of the whole creation. He takes every part of it under his protection. He has, in various passages of Scrip- ture, expressed his concern even for irrational crea- tures, and has declared more especially, in the most explicit terms, that the rest of the sabbath was meant for our cattle and our servants^ as well as for ourselves. II. But cessation from labor is not the only duty of the Lord's Day. Although it is to be a day of rest^ yet it is not to be, what too many seem willing to make it, a day of indolence and iimctimty. There are employments marked out for it of a very important na^ ture J and of these the first and most essential is, SERMON IX. Ill THE PUBLIC WORSHIP OF GoD. It is evident, both from reason and Scripture, that public worship is a most useful and indispensable duty. It is equally evident, that if this duty is to be performed, some fixed and stated time for performing it is absolutely necessary : for w ilhout this it is im- possible that any number of persons can ever be col- lected together in one place. Now one day in seven, seems to be as proper and convenient a portion of our time, to be allotted to this use, as any other that can be named. " Tl>e returns of it are frecjucnt enough to keep alive the sense of religion in our hearts, and distant enough to leave a very sufficient interval for our worldly concerns." If then this time was fixed only by the laws, or even by the customs of our country, it would be our duty and our wisdom to comply with it. Considering it merely as an antient usage, yet if antiquity can render an usage venerable, this must be of all others the most venerable : for it is coeval with the world itself. But it had moreover, as we have seen, the sanction of a divine command. From the very beginning of time God blessed and sanctified the seventh day to the pur- poses of religion*. That injunction was again re- peated to the Jews in the most solemn manner at the promulgation of their law from mount Sinai f, and once more urged upon them by Moses in the words of the text; "Keep the Sabbath-day, to sanctify it, as> *' the Lord thy God hath commanded thee." After our Lord's resurrection, the first day of the week was, in memory of that great event, substituted in the room of the seventh ; and from that time to the present, that is, for almost eighteen hundred years, it has been constantly set apart for the public worship of God by die whole Christain world. And, whatever difference of opinion there may have been in other respects, in this all parties, sects, and denominations of Christians have universally and invariably agreed. By these means it comes to pass, that on this day » Gen. ii. S. f Exodus xx. 8, 9, 10, 11. 112 SERMON IX. many millions of people, in almost every region of the earth, are at one and the same time engaged in prostrating themselves before the throne of grace, and offering up their sacrifice of prayer, praise, and thanksgiving to the common Lord of all, "in whom *' they live, and move, and have their being." There is in this view of the Lord's Day something so wonderfully awful and magnificent, that one would think it almost impossible for any man to resist the inclination he must find in himself to join in this general assembly of the human race ; " to go with the *' multitude," as the psalmist expresses it, " into the " house of God," and to lake a part in a solemnity so striking to the imagination, so suitable to the majesty of Heaven, so adapted to the wants, the necessities, the infirmities, the obligations and the duties of a created and a dependent being. That they who avow an open contempt of all reli- gion, and j&ro/^^-^ to live without God in the world, witlwut any belief of his existence, or at least of his providential superintendence ; that these, I say, should think it a very needless waste of time to attend divine service, can be no wonder. But that any person viho calls himself a discinle of Christ, or even a believer in one Supreme Being, should either totally neglect, or but rarely frequent the public worship of God on that only day which laws, both human and divine, have ap- propriated to it, is an instance of contempt for the most sacred and most useful institutions, which one should hardly be disposed to credit, if constant and melan- choly experience did not too clearly prove the reality of the fact. We see continually that the most trivial pretences of weather, of indisposition, of business, of comf)any ; pretences which would not be suffered to interfere one moment w ith any favorite pursuit, or amusement ; are thought reasons of sufficient weight to justify us in slighting the express com- mands, and deserting the service of our Maker and our Redeemer. And it is greatly to be lamented, that these neglects have generally been observed to be most SERMON XL 113 prevalent among those whose education and rank in hfe should have iurnished them with the best principles and the completcst kno\vled|2;c of their duty ; whose ex- ample is most open to observation, and has the great- est influence on pul)lic manners ; whose large propor- tion of worldly blessings demands a more tlian ordina- ry warmth of gratitude to Heaven ; and whose situa- tion exposes them to such a variety of trying circiun- stances as require a more than ordinary share of divine assistance*. But supposing our attendance on the house of God to be such as it ought, there still remains a question of no small importance : How are we to employ the re- maining part of the Lord's Day ? Are u c to dedicate it altogether to private devotion and religious medi- tation, to seclude ourselves from all society, and to assume an affected gloom of countenance and severity of deportment ; or, may we freely give the reins to our inclination for pleasure, and indulge ourselves without reserve in all the usual gayeties and amuse- ments of the other six days in the week ? Both these extremes may be seen among different denominations of Christians in foreign kingdoms ; and they have each, at different periods, been adopted in this. At the be- ginning of the last century, a book of sports and pas- times for Sundays was set forth, and recommended to the good people of tliis land by a princef , who has been sometimes celebrated for his wisdom, but who in this instance certainl)^ was not wise. It gave great, and, it must be owned, just offence to the rising sect of Puritans ; who, in the next reign, thinking it im- possible to recede too mucli from the former profana- tions of the Lord's Day, ran with too much vehemence into the opposite extreme ; and converted the most joy- ful of all festivals into a day of silent, sullen, austere * It must be acknowledged, indeed, that the present remarkable thinncsf. of our churches on Sundays, at the East as well as the West end of die loww (more especially at the time of trccniiig servicg, which is now but too gene- rally given tip as q'litc supert^uous) is a ].>roof, that neglect of divine worship is-not conlined to she great, but has pervaded almost erery class ©f people \.\ this capital, f James the First. P 114 SERMON IX. reserve, and a rigorous abstinence from every thing that had the smallest tincture of good luimor. When all tliese extravagancies had subsided, and the constitution, both civil and ecclesiastical, recovered its antient form, the Church of England, with that Avisdom and moderation which have generally govern- ed its decisions, took a middle course with respect to the observation of Sunday. In conformity to antient statutes and usages, it discouraged all public spectacles and diversions, but allowed the more rational pleasures of society, and the cheerfulness of friendly intercourse and conversation ; thus drawing the line, with a dis- creetand a skilful hand, between the two opposite ex- tremes of pharisaical prcciseness, and secular dissipa- tion. This prudent medium has now for many years been preserved among us ; but how much longer it will be preserved, seems at present no easy matter to say. The licence of the times, however daring in other re- spects, had hitherto spared the day consecrated to our Maker. But it has now carried its oiUrages even irtto that once awful sanctuary. In the very midst of all our dangers and distresses, v, hen it did not seem to be quite the time for setting Heaven at defiance, new in- vasions of the Sabbath have sprung up with surprising eHVontery ; and we are rapidly departing from that sim- plicity, sobriety, and purity, in which this holy festival has been delivered down to us by our ancestors. Va- rious places of amusement for the Sunday evening, un- known to former ages, unknown, I believe, to any oth- er Christian country, have been openly announced, and to the disgrace of our religion and our laws, have been as openly frequented*. But how can we wonder at these strange extravagan- cies in the louer classes of the people, when they only * Since this was written, the wisdom of the legislature has, by an express act of parliament, effectually suppressed these nuisances ; some of which, from the best and most authentic information, I have reason to believe •were nurseries of popery, infidelity, and vice. It is to be hoped, that the same high authority will, at aproper time, proceed to the correction of vari- ous other abuses, that still infringe, in a flagrant degree, the rest and the de- votion of the Lord's Day, but which it was thought not prudent to include ir the abore-inentioned act. SERMON IX. 115 improve a- little on the liberties taken by too many of their superiors r If they see magnificent gaming-houses erected, and publicly resorted to on d:ie Lord's Day ; if they see that pernicious amusement admitted on the same day even into private families ; if they see nume- rous and splendid assemblies disturbing the repose, and violating the sanctity of the Sunday evening, what do we think must be the consequence ? Is it not appa- rent that they will learn from their betters the fatal les- son of insulting the most venerable customs of their country, and the most sacred ordinances of Heaven ? that diey will soon even excel their masters, and carry their contempt of decency far beyond the original ex- amples of it, which made the first impression on their minds ? But apart from tliese consequences, which are al- ready but too visible, it behoves every man, who indul- ges himself in any unwarrantable freedoms on the Lord's Day, to consider very seriously, " what spirit he is of,'* and what the turn of mind must be from a\ hence such conduct springs. If, after having spent six days out of seven in a constant round of amusements, he cannot exist without them even on the seventh, it is high time for him to look to his own heart, to check his greedy appetite for pleasure, and to put himself, without delay, under the direction of higher and better principles. If v.e cannot give up these follies one day in the week, how shall we bring ourselves to part with them, as at last we must, for ever. ? Would it not be infinitely more wise and prudent to disentangle ourselves from them by degrees, and to try whether it is not possible to ac- quire a relish for worthier enjoyments ? To assist us in this most useful work, and to put this world, and all its frivolous pursuits, for a few moments, out of our thoughts, was one great purpose of the Christian Sab- bath ; and it is a purpose for which we of the present times ought to be peculiarly thankful. For a day of rest from diversions, is now become as necessary to one part of the w-orld, as a day of rest from labor is to the other. Let us then give ourselves a little respite, a lit- 116 SERMON IX. tic refreshment from the fatigue of pleasure. Let us not suffer diversions of any kind, much less of a suspi- cious and a dangerous kind, to intrude on that small portion of time which God hath appropriated to himself, The whole of it is barely suflicient for the important uses to which it is destined, and to defraud our Maker of any considerable part of it is a species of sacrilege. ' But how then (you will say) shall we fill up all those dull, tedious hours, that are not spent in the public ser- vice of the church ? How shall we prevent that almost irresistible languor and heaviness which are so apt to take possession of our minds, for want of our usual di- versions and occupations on this day ? Surely it can require no great stretch of invention or ingenuity to find out means of employing our vacant time, both innocently and agreeably. Besides the soci- ety and conversation of our friends, from which wc arc by no means precluded, might we not for a few hours find amusement in contemplating the wisdom, the jiow- er, the- goodness of God in the works of his creation ? And might we not draw entertainment, as well as im- provement, from some of the sublimer parts of that sa- cred volume which contains " the words of eternal life," and with which therefore it surely concerns us to liavc some little acquaintance ? Or, if more active recreations are required, what think you of that which you may make as active as you please, and which was in fact the supreme delight of our divine Master, the recreation of doing good? If, for in- stance, it be at all necessary (and when was it e\ er jiiore necessary ?) to instil into the minds of your chil- dren sound principles of virtue and religion ; if you have any plans of benevolence to form, any acts of kind- ness or compassion to execute ; if you have commit^- ted injuries which ought to be repaired ; if you have received injuries vJiich ought to be forgiven ; if friends or relations are at variance, vv-hom by a reasonable in- terposition it would be easy to reconcile ; if those you most esteem and love stand in need of advice, of reproof, of assistance, of support ; if any occasions, in short, SERMON IX. 117 present themselves of convincinp; the unbeliever, of re- claiming the sinner, of saving the unexperienced, of instructing the ignorant, of encouraging the penitent, of soothing the aliiicted, of protecting tlie oppressed ; Iiow can you more profitably, or more delightfully, cm- j)loy }'our Sunday leisure, than in the performance of such duties as these ; in demonstrating your piety and gratitude to God, by diffusing joy and comfort to every part you can reach of that creation, v. hich was the work of his hands, and from ;\ hich he rested on the seventh day ? Occupations like these are in their own nature cheer- ful and enlivening, infinitely more so than that most gloomy of all amusements, which is too often substitu- ted in their room. They are suited to the character of the day. They partake in some measure of its sanctity. They are (as all the amusements of such a day ought to be) refined, intellectual, spiritual. They fill up with propriety and consistency, the intervals of divine wor- ship, and in concurrence w ith that, \vill help to draw off our attention a little from the objects that perpetually surround us, to wean us gradually and gently from a scene which we must some time or other quit, to raise our thoughts to higher and nobler contemplations, *' to *' fix our affections on things above," and thus qualify lis for entering into that heavenly sabbath, that EVERLASTING REST, of vvhich the Christian Sabbath is in some degree an emblem, and for which it was naeant to prepare and sanctify our souls. I a-iui«— — a SERMON X. 1 Cor. i. 22, 23, 24. The Jevjs require a sign^ and the Greeks seek after wisdom : but ive preach Christ crucified ; unto the Jews a stianbling-block^ and unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them which are called.) both Jews aiid Greeks, Christ the power of God, aiid. the wisdom of God. I ^NE of the principal causes of the disgust which many persons have taken at the Gospel of Christ, is the very common, but very unfair practice of judging of it by preconcehed expectations. They are not content to take what God thinks fit to give ; to consider what it is that the Christian Revelation really pretends to, what the ends are which it has in view, and how those pretensions are supported and those ends answered : but they sit down and fancy to themselves what kind of religion the Almighty ought to propose,, and ihey should chuse to receive ; and then, not finding Chris- tianity correspond to these imaginations, they are dis- appointed and oftended, and reject the offer of salva- tion made to them, because it is not made precisely in their own way. Many instances of this unreasonable and perverse conduct might be produced from the wri- tings both of ancient and modern infidels. But we need go no farther than the text for a very remarkable one ; which will at once confirm the truth of the gen- eral position here advanced, and suggest some useful and seasonable reflections. SERMON X. 11hen they asked a sign, was, " An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after " a sign, and there shall no sign be given it, but the " sign of the prophet Jonas±." By which figurative allusion, he meant to signify his own death, burial, and resurrection. This was in effect saying to them, " You ask a sign from hea^ven ; but the only sign, I * J.Iatth. xxiv. 3. 30. f lb. xvi. 1 ; xii. 38. John ii. 18, 19, 20. \ Matrh. xii. 39 ; xvi. 4,. SERMON X. 121 ^hall vouchsafe to give you will be a sigu from the earth. Instead of descendin,c^ from above, as you ex- pect, in visible pomp and triumph I shall rise w ilh still greater triumph from the grave, after being numbered three days with the dead." Still however they persisted in demanding their favorite sign ; and with this fiiise idea of the Messiah's character in their mind, which could never be rooted out, it is easy to see how very ill disposed they must be to receive and acknowledge a humble, suffering, crucified Redeemer. That he was " the son of a car- *' penter ; that he was born at an inn, and laid in a " manger ; that he eat and drank with publicans and *' sinners, and had not where to lay his head," these were circumstances of themselves fully sufficient to shock their prejudices and disgust their pride. But when he -\vas moreover betrayed into the hands of his enemies, Avas mocked, and buffetted and scourged, and at length nailed to the cross ; this they must consider as the most undeniable proof of his being an impostor, and would as soon have believed Barabbas to have been their Messiah as him. If, indeed, even then, he wqmW have given them what they wanted, a sign frov.i heaiicn ; if he would have come down from the cross, w^ould have made his appearance again, 2L^from heaven, with every external mark of celestial magnificence, and restored the kingdom again to Israel, they declared that they would still have believed on him. "If he " be THE KING OF ISRAEL," Said they, "let him " now come down from the cross*." let him openly shew his real power, " and we will believe him." He saved others, it is true, he worked many astonishing miracles ; but, unless he saved himself too, unless he answered their exalted notions of the Messiah, he could not possibl}' be the Son of God. His miracles must ' have been \vrought by Beelzebub, and he as little wor^ thy of credit as the malefactors who suSered with him. Such were the prepossessions which made Chri si- crucified A STUMBLING-BLOCK TO THE JEV>^S. The * Matth. ^xr\.A2. Q 122 SERMON X. prejudices which made him toolishness to thk^ GREEKS were of a different nature. The Greeks were' at that time, \\'hen the Gospel was first preached to them, as they had been long before, the polite scholars vstd the fashionable philosophers of the age. The great bu- siness and delight of these men \vas to speculate on nice metaphysical points, such as, the first principles and elements of things, the nature of the gods, the na- ture of the human soul, the chief good, the several di- visions of virtue, the origin of good and evil, and other subjects of the same kind. In these disquisitions, all that they aimed at was, not to arrive at certainty (for that many of them declared to be absolutely impossible) much less to apply the result of their disputations to any one useful purpose of life ; but merely to indulge an insatiable appetite for something ?ie%Vj to gratify an idle and vain curiosity, to amuse themselves and others with subtle arguments and acute distinctions, to shew tlieir ingenuity in managing a dispute, in proposing cap- tious and artful questions, in creating doubts and rai- sing difiiculties on the plainest points, in refining and explaining away every topic they discussed into per- plexity and confusion, and leaving the mind more dis- satisfied and uninformed at the conclusion than it was at the beginning of the debate. This the}' imagined, lik« many other philosophers in our own times, to be the very perfection of human wisdom ; they thought it worthy of the gods themselves ; and that of course, whoever came commissioned from Heaven to teach re- ligion to mankind, would teach it in all the forms of the schools, v/ith the subtlety of a sophist, and the el- oquence of a rhetorician. It is easy to conceive, then, how exceedingly they must be disappointed, ^\'hen a new religion was proposed to them, consisting chiefly of a few plain facts, and practical precepts, calculated, not to amuse the fancy, but to reform the heart ; deliv- ered without method or ornament, by a set of artless unlearned men, who only related vvhat they had seen and heard, and proved the truth of what they said, not SERMON X. 123 ■by fine-spun arf^iiments, or florid declamations, but in a plain unfashionable kind of way, by sacrificing all that was dear to them, and laying down their lives in testimony to their doctrines. As far, indeed, as those doctrines were new, they would be well received. For the Athenians, as we learn from the highest authority, *' spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or '' to hear some new thine;*." When therefore St. Paul came to Athens, and preached to that celebrated school of philosophy " Jesus and the resurrection," they were extremely ready to give him the hearing, and brought him to the Areopagus, saying, '* May we " knov,- what this new doctrine whereof thou speakest ■*' is ? for thou bringest certain strange things to our " earsf." But when they heard what these strange things were, belief in one supreme author and GOVERNOR OF THE WORLD, REPENTANCE, AMEND- MENT OF LIFE, CHRIST CRUCIFIED AND RAISED FROM THE DEAD, A GENERAL RESURRECTION, A ruTURE JUDGMENT, f Strange things indeed to the ears of an Athenian) some " mocked him," laughed at the seeming incredibility of what he told them ; oth- ers said, " We will hear thee again of this matter| ;" not probably with any view of enquiring into the evi- dence of facts (the very first and principal enquiry that was necessary to be made) but of entering into long and learned disquisitions on the nature and the fitness of the truths in which they were instructed. They ex- pected to have all the difficulties relating to Jesus and THE RESURRECTION, clcarcd up to them in the most pleasing and satisfactory manner, to have all the reasons on which God acted, laid open before them, and all his proceedings with mankind justified on the principles of human wisdom. Till this were done the doctrine ofcHRisT crucified ^vould always appear *' foolishness to the Greeks." The pride of philoso- j)hy, aird the self-sufficiency of learning, would never submit to believe that a man who suffered like a coni- • Acts xvii. 21. + lb. xvii. 19, 20. \ Acts xvii. 32. 124 SERMON X. mon malefactor, could be a teacher sent from God ; that the death of so excellent and innocent a person could be of any benefit to mankind ; that God would make use of means to accomplish his ends, so totally different from those which a Greek philosopher would have fixed on ; and that no better and more credible method 'of instructing and saving the world could have occurred to Infinite Wisdom. The seeming absur- dity of ail this would shock the Pagan, no less dian the ignominy of it did the sons of Abraham. Show us the meaning and propriety of this plan, said the Greek : show us the dignity and splendor of it, said the Jew : prove to us, said the one, the consistency of these doctrines with the magnificent descriptions of the Mes- siah, by the prophets ; reconcile it, said the other, to the principles of reason and common sense. And in what manner now does St. Paul treat these objections to the doctrine of the cross ? Does he go about to accommodate and bring it down to the temper of his opponents ? Does he endeavor to palliate auj.1 soften, to conceal or pass slightly over, to explain away or apologize for, this ofiensive article ? No such matter. Notwithstanding these well known prejudices against a crucified Redeemer, we find him constantly and boldly, and in the m.ost express terms, asserting that the Saviour whom he preached, whose disciple he was, and on whom he wished all mankind to believe, was put to death upon the cross, and gave himself a sacrifice for the sins of the whole woild. He well knew how shocking thisMvould sound to some, and how absurd to others ; but he persisted in his course ; he felt the truth and importance of the fact ; and regard- less of consequences, he declared it every where aloud and left it to work its own way. " I am not ashamed," says he, " of the Gospel of Christ ; for it is the power " of God unto salvation, to every one that believelh, " to the Jew first, and also to the Greek*." " God " forbid that I should glory," says he, in another place, '^ save ill the cross of our Lord Jesus Chirst, by whorn * Rom. i. 16. SERMON X. 125 '' the world is criicifiedunto me, and I unto the world*." And it is evidently in the same strain of triumph ^nd exultation, that he speaks of tliis doetrinc in the text. " The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek " after wisdom ; but we " (regardless of both) " preach *' Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and *' to the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them which are " called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of " God, and the wisdom of God.'" The inferences I mean to draw from the preceding observations, are these two that fol'ow : I. The first is, diat the friends of Revelation have no need to be disturbed or alarmed at a circumstance which has been sometimes dwelt upon with exi:>res- sions of surprize and concern ; namely, that all those virtuous and learned philosophers, who lived in the first ages of the Gospel, and *' adorned the times in which they flourished, such as Seneca, the elder and tiie younger Pliny, Tacitus, Plutarch, Galen, Epictetus and Marcus Antonius, either overlooked or rejected the evidences of the Gospel ; and that their language or their silence equally discovered their contempt for the Christians, who had in their time diuuscd themselves over the Roman Empire f ." The simple fact, that these eminent men did not em- brace Christianity, is admitted ; and concerned^ undoubt- edly, every compassionate mind must be at so unhappy an instance of perseverance in error ; but whoever re- flects on what has been said above, \\\\\ not be much surprized^ that Christ crucified should be fool- ishness to the Roman sage as well as to the Greek. That same i)hilosophy which, we are told, " had puri- fied their minds from the prejudices of superstition," had substituted in their room certain other prejudices, that would eflectually prevent them from embracing the Gospel, if ever tliey condescended to bestow a single thought upon it, or to make the least enquiry into it ; • Gal. vi. 14. f See the History of the Dcdine and Fall of the Roman Empire, vol. p. 51G. 126 SERMON X. which is far from being certain. Full of system and of science, of the all-sufficiency of reason, the dignity of human nature, and the absohite perfection of Stoi- cal wisdom and virtue, they must needs regard with supercilious contempt an unsystematical and unscienti- fical religion, first promulged in an unpolished and un- lettered corner of the world, by the son of a carpenter, \A'ho never studied at Athens or at Rome : preached afterwards by illiterate fishermen and mechanics, and received with eagerness by the illiterate populace. They would never endure a religion that rejected the aid of eloquence and learning, in the pursuit of which they had spent their lives ; a religion that laid open the weak- ness and depravity of the human heart, and the insuffi- ciency of our own powers, either to lead us to a just knowledge of our duty, or support us in the due per- formance of it, without supernatural aid ; v. hich incul- cated the necessity of a mediator, a redeemer, a sancti- fier, and required the 'uery unphilosophical virtues of meekness, humility, contrition, self-abasement, self- de- nial, renovation of heart and reformation of life ; which taught the doctrines of a resurrection from the grave, and an eternal existence in another world, doctrines that appeared to them not only perfectly ridiculous, but even impossible^; which " chose the foolish things of the " world to confound the wi^^," (a title peculiarly arro- gated by the Stoics) " and the weak things of the world " to confound the things that are mighty f ; casting *' down imaginations, and every high thing that exal- *' teth itself against the knowledge of God, and bring- " inginto captivity every thought to the obedience of '' Christ |.." These wers doctrines to Vvhich not even a Stoical slaiie^ much less a Stoical Emperor ^ could ever submit to listen with any degree of patience. Where then can be the wonder, that, on minds labor- ing under such strong prepossessions as these, neither the internal excellence, nor the external proofs, of the Christian Revelation, could ever make the smallest impression ? * Acts xvii. 32. Plin. Nat. Hist. ii. 7- f 1 Cor. i. 2" % 2 Co!> x. 5. SERMON X. \21 il. The next inference I would offer to your con- skleration is, tiiat althouf.';h the doctrine of (Christ crii- c'lficd is one of those -which ;ire the most offensive to the ]:)hiIosoj:)hers and dispulers of this world, j'et wc should not be in the least dismayed by their opposition to it ; nor remit any thinj^ of our diligence and earnest- ness in asserting; tlie truth, and insisting on the im- portance of this fundamental article of our faith. We have seen that at the very iirst publication of the Gos- pel, thb doctrine gave the utmost scandal to the pride of the Jew, and the wisdom of the Greek. We have seen too what little regard was paid to them by the great apostle of the Gentiles. The same prejudices do in some measure still subsist ; and deserve to meet with the same treatment. There are Jews and Greeks still to be found in every Christian country. Utibeliei)- ers, I mean, who in their ^^•ay of thinking and reason- ing on the subject of Revelation resemble both ; who are, like the former, shocked at the seeming ignomi- . ny of the cross, and, like the latter, disgusted with the absurdity of supposing, that the sufferings and the death of an unoffending individual, and of one too that pretended to be nothing less than the Son of God, could in any way contribute to the salvation of a guilty world. It concerns not us to satisfy these fastidious reasoners. The only proi:)er ansv.er to them is, that our faith "does not stand (and was YlOX. designed lo *' stand) in the wisdom of men, but in the power of " God*." All that -lyr have to do, is to content our- selves with flicts, and to receive with thankfulness the doctrine of Rtdemption, as we find it delivered in the plain, and express, and cmphatical words of Scrip- ture. We may safely trust oursehes in the hands of God, and rely on his \visdom for the best methods of redeeming us. His dealings with mankind are truly great and ivisc, but he does not conduct himself on the i^rinciples of vjorhUy grandeur, or ivorldly wisdom/ On the contrary, it is plainly his intention, in this and a thousand other instances, to humble, and mortify, • 1 Cor. ii. 5. 128 SERMON X. and confound them both. We have, therefore, no reason to be afraid of either, " for the foolishness cf *' God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is *' stronger than men*." Artful and ingenious cavillers will attempt to lead us into long disquisitions and subde speculations on the subject. They will start innumerable difficulties, pro- pose ensnaring questions, and urge us with a variety of seeming absurdities. But, unmoved by all their artifices, let us hold fast the profession of our faith, without wavering, and without philosophizing. Unless w^e are admitted into the counsels of God, it is impos- sible for us to comprehend all the reasons which indu- ced him to prefer that particular method of redeeming us which he has chosen. But yet what we may un- derstand of it is sufficient to convince us, that it is ad- mirably well calculated for the purposes v.hich it seems designed to answer ; and that although the doctrine of the cross is "to them that perish, foolishness," " yet " to them that are called," that is, to all who are sin- cerely disposed to embrace the ofTers of divine mercy made to them in the Gospel, it is, as the text affirms it to be, " Christ the power of god, and the "wisdom of god." To enter into the proof of this at large would require a volume. But the slightest and most superficial view of the subject v.ill be suffi- cient to show, what great, and important, and seem- ingly opposite ends were answered by the death of Christ upon the cross. By this extraordinary event, the power of death itself, and the dominion of Satan, " the prince of this ^vorld," were, as the Scriptures inform us, at once destroyedf. It gave occasion to that most astonish- ing miracle, the resurrection of our Lord from the dead. It was a seal and confirmation of the new covenant of mercy between God and man, as covenants used ancientl}' to be confirmed by sacrifices. It was a completion of the ancient prophecies concerning our Saviour, and reconciled that apparent contradiction * 1 Cor. r. 25. t 2 Tim. i. 10. Hcb. ii. 14. SERMON X. 129 between the conscription of his temporal sufFerings and his spiritual glories, which so much perplexed and confounded the Jews. It taught mankind that hardest of all lessons (a lesson which is, God knows, but too necessary for every human being in his passage through the world) to bear the cruellest indignities, the heaviest afflictions, and thcacutest sufferings, with composure, patience, meekness, and resignation to the will of Heaven. It effected, what of all other things seemed the most difficult, the salvation of re- penting sinners, without either punishing them, or weakening the authority of God's moral government ; and, while it afforded assurance of pardon for past of- fences, gave no encouragement to future transgres- sions. And what completes the whole is, that this (loctrhie of the cross, which by the proud reasoners of that age was called foolishness, did notwithstanding make its way in the world with incredible rapidity, and produced such a reformation in the hearts and lives of men, as all the eloquence and subtilty of the o-reatest philosophers could never accomplish. When we reflect on these things, we must surely allow, that although there may be many things in the doc- trine of redemption to us inexplicable, yet it appears plainly, even from our imperfect conceptions of it, to have been a most eminent proof both of the ^visdonl and the power of God. The more we examine into it, the more we shall be convinced of this great truth. But as there is now no time for any furdier enquiries of this nature, I shall dismiss the subject with this one observation — That there is so far from being any thing in the doctrine of the cross that ought to shock our understandings, or stagger our faith, that, on the contrary, it affords us the strongest evidences of the truth of our Saviour's pre- tensions. He well knew that the Jews expected in their Messiah a splendid victorious deliverer, and that the heathens loved to be amused with philosophical dis- ]Hitcs and oratorical harangues. Had he therefore been an impostor, he would most certainly have accommo- R 130 SERMON X. dated his appearance and his doctrines to these expcctav tions. But by teaching, living, suffering, and dying, in direct contradiction to these deep-rooted preposses- sions, he plainly shewed that he depended, not on the favor of man, but on the force of truth, and the power of God only, for the success of his mission. In the same manner, after his ascension, when the Apostles found that the doctrine of Christ crucified gave the ut- most offence to their hearers, was to the " Jews a stum- *' bling- block, and to the Greeks foolishness ;" had they acted on the principles of mere worldly policy, they would quickly have changed their tone, would have dissembled, or softt^ned, or concealed this obnoxious article. They would have made use of art and manage- ment, similar, perhaps, to that which the Jesuits in China are said to have adopted. It is a charge brought against those missionaries by some writers, and believed by others of considerable authority, that, finding the people of that country exceedingly scandalized at the doctrine of a crucified Redeemer, they thought it pru- dent to deny that Christ was ever crucified. They af- firmed, that it was nothing more than a calumny invent- ed by the Jews, to throw a disgrace on Christianity. And what did they gain by this ingenious piece of craft? Did they secure a better reception for the Gospel, and establish themselves more firmly in die good opinion of mankind ? Alas I Christianity no longer exists in Chi- na, and they themselves no longer exist as a society. Sucli are the effects of worldly policy, and worldly wis- dom. And had the Apostles acted on the same princi- ples, they would have met with the same success. But they pursued the maxims of " that wisdom which is *' from above." Undismayed by the offence taken at the doctrine of the cross, they continued to preach Chrisi crucified. They disdained all the little tempori- sing arts of accommodation, all unworthy compliances with the prejudices of mankind. They loudly declared to the Vkhole world that they believed the doctrine of the cross to be a divine truth, and that they thought it their bounden duty to persist in preaching it, vvithout SERMON X. 131 fear, without disguise, and \Aithout reserve. They \vcTC persuaded that God would some May or other take cai-e to prosper his own work, and that, notwidistand- ingall opposition to the contrary, " their labors should " not be in vain in the Lord." The event showed that their reasoning was just, and that they judged right in obeying God, rather than humoring the prejudices and caprices of men. The successful and triumphant man- ner in w hich the Gospel made its way, notwithstanding it went bearing the cross of its divine Author, and had all the power, and wealth, and eloquence of the world to oppose it, was an irresistible proof, that it was the design of Providence,- not " by the enticing words of man's v.isdom, but by demonstration of the Spirit, and of power, to save them that believe ; and, by what was called the foolishness of the cross ; to destroy the wisdom of the wise, and bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent^"." * 1 Cor. ii. 4. and i. 19. SERMON XL Jeremiah xviii. Partof the 11th Verse, 37ms saiih the Lord ; beheld I frame evil against you. Return y» noiv ei-'ery one from his evil luay, and make your ways and your doings good. WE are now once more assembled together, to humble ourselves before Almighty God* : and, since we first met here for that purpose, a most awful and alarming change has taken place in the situation of our affairs. A few successes in the beginning have been followed by a series of misfortunes. Our dangers and distresses have multiplied on every side. All our efforts to extricate ourselves from the difficulties with which we are surrounded, have proved ineffectual. And the prospect before us is upon the whole sufficiently dark and uncomfortable. Let us turn our eyes from it to another object ; to ourselves I mean, to our own conduct. Will that af- ford us any consolation ? " When the judgments of *' the Lord are in the earth,-' we are told that " the *' inhabitants of the world will learn righteousnessf." Have those judgments which now press so heavy upon us, taught us this most useful lesson ? In proportion as our calamities have multiplied, has the warmth of our piety encreased, and our sins and our follies melted away before it ? Twice already have we, in this place, and on this very occasion, addressed ourselves to the Throne of Grace ; have, with every appearance of sor- * On the general fast in 1779, \ Isaiah xxvi. 9. SERMON XI. 133 row cind contrition, confessed our sins, and acknow- ledged that they have most deservedly brought down upon us the heaviest marks of God's displeasure. We have entreated pardon, we have besought compassion, we have implored assistance and protection ; and in re- turn have, in the most solemn manner, vowed repent- ance and reformation. Have that repentance and refor- mation followed ? Has one single article of luxury been retrenched (retrenched, I mean, from principle) one fa- vorite vice renounced, one place of amusement, one school of debauchery or of gaming, shut up ? Do we keep a stricter guard upon all our irregular appetites and desires, and restrain them within the bounds of tempe- rance, decency, and duty ? Are the obligations of the nuptial vov/ more faithfully observed, and fewer appli- cations made to the legislature for the dissolution of that sacred bond ? Is there a more plain and marked differ- ence in our behavior towards the virtuous and the pro- fligate ; and have we set ourselves with greater earnest- ness to repress the bold effrontery of vice, by treating it, wherever it is found, with the indignation and con- tempt which it deserves ? Are we become in any de- gree more religious, more devout, more disengaged from this world, more intent upon the next'? Are our hearts touched with a livelier apprehension of heavenly things, with \varmer sentiments of love and reverence for our Maker ; and do we demonstrate the sincerity of that love, by a more exact obedience to his commands, and a more serious regard to that sacred day, which is peculiarly dedicated to his service ? Happy would it be for every one of us, could these questions be answer- ed truly in the affirmative. But if they cannot, for what purpose have we again resorted to this solemnity ? Do we think that the abstinence, the sorrow, or the supplications of a day^ will avail us ? In a country so enlightened as this is, it is impossible that any one can deceive himself with such imaginations as these. If we come here to say a form of prayer for mere form's sake ; if our devotion is put on for the occasion ; and put off the moment we leave this place ; if we are serious for 134 SERMON XT. a few hours once in a year, and as dissipated as ever all the rest of our lives ; such annral slion's cf piety, such periodical fits of devotion, instead of being a humilia- tion before God, are a mocker}^ and insult upon him ; and our very prayers will be among the sins for \\ hicli we ought to beg forgiveness. The prayers to which he listens, are those only that spring from a broken and a,j contrite heart : the sorrow that he accepts, is that only which worketh repentance: the abstinence which he requires, is abstinence from sin. Unless we renounce each of us our own peculiar wickedness, our profes- sions here do nothing : they do worse than nothing ; they add hypocrisy to all our other sins. " This peo- ^' pie," says God on a similar occasion, "draw near " to me with their mouth, and with their lips do honor " me, but have removed their heart far from me : and *' their fear towards me is taught by the precept of men. *' Their goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the " early dew itgocth away. When they fast, I will not *' hear their cry, and when they offer an oblation, I will " not accept them*^. Because I have called, and ye *' refused, I have stretched out my hand, and no man " regarded ; but ye have set at nought my counsel, and *' would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your *' calamity, I will mock when your fear cometh. When '^' your fear cometh as a desolation, and your destruc- " tion cometh as a whirlwind, when distress and an- " guish cometh upon you ; then shall they call upon ^' me, but I will not answer, they shall seek me early, *' but they shall not find me ; for that they hated know- *' ledge, and did notchuse the fear of the Lord."f All this, I am aware, when applied to ourselves, Vvill be considered by many as nothing more than the usual language of the pulpit ; as a little pious declamation, necessary to be used on such occasions as this, but meaning nothing, and calculated only to strike super- stitious minds, which see divine judgments in every common occurrence of life. * Isa. xxix. 13. Hos. vi. 41, Jer. xiv. 12. t ^i-ov. i. 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29- SERMON Xr. 135 This is neither the time nor the place for entering in- to any controversy on such subjects. We are come here, I apprelienci, not to dispute God's moral p^ov- ernment of the world, but to acknowledge it. They who do not acknowledge it, have no concern here. Yet even these, when they happen to reflect a little se- riously on w liat we \vcre a very few years ago, and w hat we now are ; ^vhen they consider the means by whicli this sudden and surprising revolution has been brought about ; when they look back to the origin, and trace the whole progress, . of that unhappy contest, in which we have been so long engaged, find them- selves obliged to own, that there is something very ex- traordinary in it ; that it has in many instances gone far out of the usual track of human affairs ; " that the causes generally assigned, are totally inadequate to the effects produced ; and that it is altogether one of the most amazing scenes that \vas ever presented to the ob- servation of mankind. They allov/ it is impossible to account in any common way, for every thing that has happened in the various stages of it ; and talk much of accident, ill-fortune, and a certain strange fatility (as they call it) which seems to attend even our best- concerted measures. Let those who can, digest such reasoning as this, and disguise their ignorance of the truth, or their unwillingness to own it, under the shel- ter of unmeanino; names, and imacrinarv beines of their own creation. But let us, \\ho are, I trust, a little better informed, confess, what it is in vain to deny, that the hand of God is upon us ; that \ve wanted hum- bling, and ha\e been most severely humbled. The successes of the last war * were too great for our feeble virtue to bear. The immense wealth that they poured in upon us from every qu;,irter of the globe, bore down before it every barrier of morality and religion, and produced a scene of wanton extravagance and wild ex- cess, which called loudly for some signal check ; and that check it has now received. It would be the ex- tremity of blindness not to see, in those calamities tliat ♦ That which was concluded by the peace of 1763. 136 SERMON XI. have befallen us, the workings of that over- ruling power, " which chiises the foolish things of the Vvorld " to confound the wise, and the weak things of the *' world to confound the things that are mighty ; that *' no flesh should glory in his presence*." It is plain- ly the voice of God that speaks to us, in the sublime and tremendous language of Scripture ; " Hear this, " thou that art full of stirs, a tumultuous city, a joyous " city; thou that art given to pleasures, that dwellest *' carelessly, and sayest in thine heart, lam, and none *' else beside me ; Though thou exalt thyself as the *' eagle, and though thou set thy nest among the stars, *' thence will I bring thee down, saith the Lprd. Cau *' thy heart endure, or can thy hands be strojig, in the "days that I shall deal with thee? I the Lord have " spoken it, and will do it. I will mingle a ^perverse " SPIRIT in the midst of thee, I will cause thee " TO ERR IN every WORKf." Whether we have not thus erred, I leave you to judge ; and if our errors are here referred to their right source, we know the remedy. It is, God be thanked, in our own hands : it is what this day's so- lemnity was meant to remind us of ; it is what the test itself very distinctly points out to us. "Return ye " now every one from his evil way, and make your " ways and your doings good." Listen then, I be- seech you, to this most salutary advice, and " humble " yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that he " may exalt you in due timei." But is any one then (we shall be asked) so weak as to imagine, that immediate reformation will be follow- ed by an immediate declaration of Heaven in our favor, and that the moment we become religious and virtu- ous, we shall be secured from danger, and rewarded with success ? The best, indeed the only proper answer to such a question as this, is — make the tri- al. It may be made without either expense or * 1 Cor. i. 27, 29. f Isaiah xxii. 2 ; xlvii. 8. Obad. 4. Ezek. xxii. 14. Isakih xix. 14. t 1 Pet. V. G. SERMON XI. 137 iiazard ; and surely, in our present situation, every thing that afibrds the least shadow of relief, deserves our notice. Expedient after expedient has been tried, and failed. Above all things, we have tried what iRRELiGioN will do for US ; and we have no reason, I think, to be proud of the experiment. It is then high time, surely, to discard a physician that has done us so little good, to make a change in our medicines, and put ourselves under a diUb-rent regimen. And what other regimen can we adopt but that \vhich is recom- mended to us by the great physician of our souls ? It is RELIGION, "pure undefiled religion," that will strike at the root of our disorder, and nothing else can. To see its influence suddenly and universally restored, is more, perhaps, than we can expect. As the depra- vation of our manners, and the decay of vital piety amongst us, has been a gradual work, the recovery of them must be so too. But let every one begin to do something towards it ; let all parties and denomina- tions of men, instead of inveighing against each other, without mercy and without end, reform themselves ; and the restitution of reli.sjious sentiment, and virtuous practice M'ill not be so difHcult an achievement as is imagined. It behoves us, in the first place, the minis- ters of the Gospel, from the highest to the lowest, to redouble our attention to every branch of our sacred functions, and to take the lead, as we arc bound to do, in the great work of reformation. As an indespensa- ble requisite towards it, let us be careful to impress deeply both upon our own minds and those of our hearers, the absolute necessity of faidi in Christ, cf Icrvent love towards God, of internal sanclincation by his Spirit ; and on this foundation, the only solid and substantial one that can be laid, let us erect the super- structure of a holy, religious, Christian life. Let those uho direct our public measures remeniber, that their success must, in a great degree, depend on the purity and integrity, not only of their political, but of their moral and religious conduct ; and th?.t " except S 138 SERMON Xr. " the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but " in vain*." If therefore they leave the Supreme Governor of the world out of their counsels, and form plans independent of him and his providence, there is but too much reason to fear, that all the efforts of hu- man wisdom and power, the most vigorous exertions of national strength, the best appointed fleets and ar- mies, will avail them nothing; for " the battle is not " their's, but God'sf." Let their opponents, on the other hand, be no less attentive to the regulation of their own hearts, than to the conduct of those who gov- ern ; and contend with them not merely for the vain distinctions of rank, or wealth, or power, but for that noblest object of human ambition, pre-eminence in virtue.' To all this, let those who are distinguished by their birth and fortune, add the weight, the almost irresistible weight, of their example ; and manifest their public spirit in the most useful way they can, by letting the light of their truly illustrious conduct " shine *' before men," and by being models of every thing that is great and good. Let parents, in fine, while they are so anxious to embellish the manners, and improve the understandings, of their children, pay » little more attention than they have hitherto done, to the cultiva- tion of their hearts. From their infancy to their man- hood, let them be brought up " in the nurture and ad- *' monition of the Lord j." Let those grand corrup- ters oftheir unguarded innocence and simplicity, licen- tious NOVELS, licentious histories, and licentious systems of PHILOSOPHY, which (not to mention those of our own growth) have constituted a large and most pernicious branch of our commerce with a neighboring kingdom ; let these, I say, be for ever banished from the hands of our youth, and in their room, let that long- neglected, and almost forgotten thing, revealed re- ligion, make a fundamental part of their education. Let them not be left (as is too much, God knows, the case) to pick it up themselves, as ^veil as they can, from * Psalm cx;cvii. 1. t 2 Chron. xx. ii. \ Epb. vi 4. SERMON XL 139 sasual information, or a few superficial unconnected in- structions ; but let it be taught them systematically and methodically ; let the first rudiments of it be instilled as early and as carefully into their minds, as those of every other science ; let its evidences and its doctrines be gradually explained to them, in the several semina- ries of learning through which they successively pass, in proportion as their judgments ripen, and their un- derstandings unfold themselves. Let them, in short, be made not only great scholars, and accomplished gen- tlemen, but, what is of inlinitely more importance, both to themselves and to the public, honest men, and sin- cere Christians. By means such as these, together with our most ear- nest prayers for the assistance of Divine Grace to co- operate with our own endeavors, there is little doubt but a great and a blessed change may in time be brougiit about, in the manners even of the present ge- neration, and still more of the rising one. And when once the sense of religion is effectually awakened in our souls, we have every reason in the world to expect the happiest consequences from it. The declarations of Scripture on this head are pe- remptory and decisive. " At what instant," (says God) " I shall speak concerning a nation, and concern- *' ing a kingdom, to pluck up and to pull down, and *' to destroy it, if that nation, against whom I have " pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the " evil which I thought to do unto them*." But, be- sides the reviving hopes which these promises may well inspire, there are other very important advantages that Vviil naturally and spontaneously flow from a sincere belief in the doctrines, and a general obedience to the laws, of the Gospel. I. In the first place, true Christianity will produce TRUE PATRIOTISM AND PUBLIC SPIRIT. By its Com- manding influence over the soul, " it will keep under, *' and bring into subjection f," all those irregular pas- ' Jer. win. /, *?. " | | Cor. i.\, 27. 140 ' SERMON XI. sions which render men rapacious, sordid, selfish, and corrupt, indifferent and inattentive to the public, devo- ted solely to the pursuit of some favorite object, or the gratification of some implacable resentm.ent, to "which they are at any time ready to prostitute their conscien- ces, and sacrifice the true interest of their country. From all these vile impediments to the discharge of our duty, Christianity sets us free, and substitutes in their room, the noblest and most generous sentiments. It gives that dignity and elevation of soul, which is supe- rior to every undue influence, either of popularity or of power. It lays down, as the foundation of all disinter- ested conduct, that great evangelical virtue, self-de- nial ; it teaches us to deny, to renounce ourselves; to throw entirely out of our thoughts, our own preju- dices, interests, and passions ; and in every public question, to see nothing, to regard nothing, but the real welfare of our country, and that plain line of duty, which no honest man can mistake. To this it adds unbound- ed love for all, but especially " the brotherhood* ;" that is, the community of which we are members. It extends our prospect beyond the present scene of things, and sets before us the recompences of a future life ; which, as they make us richer^ enable us to be more generous, than other men. They whose views are vi'hol- ly centered in this world, will too often prefer the emo- luments of it to every other consideration ; but they who look towards an inheritance in another state of ex- istence, can afford to give up to the general welfare, a few advantages in this. II. When once we have thoroughly imbibed the true spirit and tem.per of the Gospel, it will soon produce what is essential to our preservation, unanimity ; will compose all those unhappy dissensions which have so long torn the state in pieces ; which have been one principal cause of our present evils ; and,' if not timely extinguished, or at least greatly mitigated, will proba- bly lead (as in all great empires they ha^e universally * ! Pet. ii. ir. SERMON XI. 141 led) to final ruin. Now the source of this dreadful mis- chief lies where few seem to suspect, in the want of RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. Had Hot all sidcs departed, in a greater or less degree, from those heavenly precepts of gentleness, humility, meekness, placability, brother- ly kindness, moderation, equity, and integrity, which the Gospel prescribes, it is utterly impossible that our divisions could have arisen to their present alarming height. But the misfortune is, we are apt to think our- selves dispensed with, in matters of state, from all those rules of morality, which, in every other case, we deem it our duty to observe ; and, what is quite astonishing and unaccountable, the very same persons, who in pri- vate life are considerate, reasonable, impartial, good- natured, and humane, will, in public affliirs, be impetu- ous, veliement, acrimonious, censorious, ungenerous, and unjust. On what grounds they establish this strange distinction, and why they conceive all the obhgations of Religion to hold good in the one case, and entirely to vanish in the other, is to me, I own, utterly incom- prehensible. The Gospel, I am sure, knows nothing of any such exceptions as these. It lays down the same rules of behavior for all men, in all relations, and cir- cumstances of life ; and grants no dispensation, in any one supposable instance, from the eternal and invariable laws of evangelical rectitude. It is Charity, in short, true Christian Charity, diffusing itself through our v.hole conduct, public as well as private, that can alone restore harmony and union to this distracted kingdom. Let her mild conciliating voice be once heard and at- tended to by all ranks of men, and she will say to their rufiied passions, as our Saviour did to the troubled waves, " Peace, be still :" and the consequence will be the same : " there will be a great calm^'^" Lastly, A consciousness of having discharged our duty, of being at peace with God, and of living under his gracious superintendence, will give us a spirit, a nuMNEss, AND INTREPIDITY OF SOUL, w hich no- thing else can inspire. * Mark iv. 39. 142 SERMON XI. Valor indeed, it has been said, is no Christian vir- tue ; and it is very true ; for, considered simply in it- self, it is no virtue at all. It is a mere personal qual- ity, depending principally on constitution and natural temperament, but improved by education, discipline, and habit ; and can be no otherwise moral or immoral, than as it is well or ill directed. But supposing all other circumstances equal, the sincere Christian ^^'i^ have many incitements to face danger with a steady countenance, which the irreligious cannot have. Un- der the defence of the Most High, he has less cause to fear the worst, and more reason to hope the best, than those that live without God in the world. " The wick- *' ed therefore flee when no man pursueth, but the ** righteous are bold as a lion*." Even death itself has to the real Christian, no terrors. The only sling it has, is sin, and of that sting he has disarmed it. Instead of being to him, as it is to the worldly man, the extinction of his hopes, it is the consummation of them, and puts him in possession of those heavenly treasures on which his heart is fixed. He therefor^ goes on with cool undaunted composure to the dis- charge of his duty, M'hatever difficulties, whatever dan- gers, may stand in his way ; conscious that he is act- ing under the eye of an Almighty Being, who can both protect and reward him; who has commanded him, if it be necessary, "to lay down his life for his breth- *' renf ;" and who will never suffer him to be a loser in the end, even by that last and greatest sacrifice to th« public good. Such are the effxts, the genuine and natural efFccts, of RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE on the human mind. It will give us, as we have seen, every tiling which our present situation seems more peculiarly to require ; PUBLIC SPIRIT, UNANIMITY, AND UNSHAKEN FOR- TITUDE. Embrace then, with thankfulness, the sup- port which Chistianity offers you, and which you have hitherto sought elsewhere in vain. Amidst so many * Proy. xxviii. 1. ■\ 1 John iii. 16. SERxMON XL 145 enemies, take care to secure, at least, one friend. By obedience to the Divine laws, recommend yourselves to the Divine protection ; and then remember those most comfortable expressions of the Almighty to an- other people : " How can I give thee up, Ephraim ? *' my soul is turned within me. I will not execute " the fierceness of my anger ; for I am God, and not *' man*." *' In a little wrath I hid my face from thee " for a moment, but with everlasting kindness will I " have mercy on theef." * lies. xi. 8, P. I. Is. Ur. I SERMON XII. Matth. X. 34. Tlunk not that I am come to send peace on earth; I ca?ne not t& send peace, but a sword. WE may, without the smallest hesitation, con- clude, that the words of the text cannot possibly have that signification which, at the first view, and as they here stand single and unconnected, they appear to have. It would be the extremity of weak- ness to suppose, that he whose whole life and doctrine breathed nothing but peace and gentleness, and who declared at another time, in the most positive terms, that " he came not to destroy men's lives, but to save *' them *," should here mean to denounce war and desolation to the human species. And that, in fact, this is not the real import of the words before us, will be evident to any one v/ho considers, with the least degree of attention, the whole passage from which they were taken, and the occasion on m hich they were spoken. It will be evident that they relate solely to the Jirst preachers of the Gospel., to w horn our Lord was then delivering their evangelical commission ; and were intended to apprize them of the calamities and persecutions to Avhich the execution of that commission would infallibly expose them. " They v.'cre sent forth " as sheep among wolves ; they were to be delivered " u{) to the councils, to be scourg-ed in the svnajroeues, " to be brought b-cfore governors and kings, to be * I.iilie Jx. 55. SERMON Xir. 145 *•' hated of all men for Christ's sake *:" a treatment so totally opposite to that which their early prejudices led diem to expect under the Messiah, the trince OF PEACE t, that it was highly necessary to set them right in this important point ; and to forew arn them in plain terms, that although the idtimate effect of Chris- tian ty would indeed be peace in its utmost extent, and in every sense of the word, yet that to those who \\ ere charged with the first promulgation of the Gos- pel, it would bring not peace, but a sword. But whatever interpretation may be given to these words, say the adversaries of our faith, they are eventu- ally applicable to Christianity in their most obvious meaning. The Gospel did in fact send a sword^ and a most destructive one, upon oarth. It has deluged die world with blood. It has been the parent of as much misery and devastation, as if it had been purposely in- tended to harass and torment mankind, and has given rise to more dissensions, wars, and massacres, than any other single cause tliat can be named :j:. This it must be owned, is a formidable charge. But formidable as it is, and heightened, as it seldom fails to be, with all the invidious colorings of false rhetoric and false wit, we need not fear to meet it in its full force. It will, I apprehend, be no difficult matter to convince every dispassionate enquirer, that when it is examined more closely and minutely, when it is di- vested of all the adventitious terrors with which it has been so industriously surrounded, and when all the abatements and deductions are made, vvhich truth de- mands and candor must admit, it will be reduced to an objection of litde or no importance. I. Whenever the cruelties exercised by Christians against unbelievers, or against each other, are men- • M?.M.h. X. IG— 22. t Isaiah ix. 6. \ This argument is so great a favorite with all our philosophical sceptics, that it is every clay dressed up in some new form, and repeated incessantly with an air of peculiar triumph and exultation. It i:; indeed in its veiy na- tiu-e calculated to strike more generally, and to make deeper impressions, than any abstract rcasonint^ ; and has, I believe, in fact, created stronger prejudice a;jainst the G'jspel, tlian all the other cavils cf infidelity put to. gether. For these reasons it seciv.ed to deserve particular consideration, T 14:6 SERMON XII, tioned, it is generally insinuated at the same time',- that they are not to be paralleled in any other religious persuasion, and that it was Christianity which first in- troduced the detestable practice of persecuting on ac- count of religion. But how unfair such representa- tions are, the most superficial acqaintance with history is sufficient to convhice us. From the remotest ages down to the present, men of almost every sect and persuasion have treated those of contrary sentiments with no small degree of bitterness and inliumanity. It is well known, that Jews, Pagans, and Mahometans, have each in their turn made use of violence and coer- cion in matters of religion ; and that the early Chris- tians suffered the severest persecution from the two for- mer, long before they began to inflict it on others. This indeed is no vindication of those Cliristians that had recourse to it ; nor is it intended as such. No- thing ever can vindicate or justify them. But it may serve to show that others ought to bear a large share of that odium which is generally thrown exclusively on the discrples of Christ ; and that it is not Christianity, but human nature, that is chargeable with the guilt of persecution*. The truth is, religion, or the pretence of religion, has in almost all ages and all nations, been one cause, among many others, of those numberless dissensions and disputes which have laid waste the species : and although it may be matter of surprize to- some, and of indignation to all, that what was intended for the protection and solace of mankind, should be * Even Pagans have persecuted Pagans on the score of religion, with the fitmost bitterness and rancor. Besides the memorable instance of So- crates, and the several holy or sacred luars among the Grecian States, which had so7ne mixture of superstitious zeal in them, we find that in Egypt the worship of difierent deities produced the nnost implacable hatred and most sanguinary contests between their respective votaries ; that in Persia the diciples of every other religion e;vcept that of Zoroaster were punished, and almost exterminated, with the ntiTiost cruelty ; and that in later times the kings of Siam and Pegu contended for the honor of possessing a certain sacred relique, (of a nature too contemptible to be named here) with as much fury and obstinacy, as if the safety of their whole kingdoms, and ev- ery thing valuable to them, had been at stake. See Plutarch in Solon. Thti- eyd. I. i. yuvenal Sat. xv. Decline and Fall tif the Roman Empire, vol. i./>» ^OB. and Mickk's translation of the LiisiadofCamocr.s, Introdiict- p. 94.nor«. SERMON XII. 147 'Converted to their destruction, yet it may be accounted for on the most common principles of human conduct. The attachment of men to any particular object, will always increase according to the real or supposed value of that object ; and their zeal in defending it from in- jury or corruption, will rise in the same proportion. Hence religion, which has ever been esteemed the most important of all human concerns, has for that very rea- son given the keenest edge to human resentments, and has wound up the passions of men to a degree of phrcn- zy, to which no motive less weighty was capable of raising them. And yet, at the same time, if we com- pare the dissensions and cruelties occasioned by chil zealy with those occasioned b)' religions zSal, we shall find the latter to bear a much less proportion to the for- mer than is generally imagined, and frequently insiim- ated^. By far the greatest number of wars, as well as the longest, most obstinate, most extensive, and most sanguinary wars wc know of, have been owing to causes purely political^ and those too sometimes of the most trifling nature ; and if we can allow men to harass and destroy one another for a mere point of honor, or a few acres of land, why should we think it strange to see them defending, with the same heat and bitterness, what they conceive to be the most essential requisite to happiness, both here and hereafter ? If we will but con- sider religion in that single point of view, which is the only one tliat has any relation to this question, as an ob- ject which men have very ranch at heart : and ^vill admit ihe operation of the same passions and prejudices as are excited by any other object that they have at heart, we shall no longer be at a loss for the source of those mis- chiefs that have been ascribed to it. II. As the nature of tlie human mind furnishes a very obvious reason for religious bigotry, and cruelty * " Political Society, en a moderate calculation, has been the means of rnurdering several times tlie number of inhabitants now upon the earth." See that admirable piece of irony, A Vindication of Natural Society, by the iate Mr. Edmund Burke; in which the argument against Christianity, .drawn froivi the mischiefs occasioned by religious bigotry and persecution, !s most ingeniously and completely wcrthrown. IW SERMON XII. in general, so may we, from the peculiar circumstan- ces and situation of the earlier Christians, account for the origin of their propensity to it in particular. Excess of happiness, or excess of misery, is fre- quently observed to give a savage turn to the temper. From the one, the mind is apt to contract a kind of hardness, and from the other a wantonness, which ren- der it equally insensible to the feelings of humanity. It was from the agonies of a death-bed, amidst the pains of a most loathsome disease, and the still more insupportable torments of a wounded conscience, look- ing back on a life full of iniquity, that Herod gave or- ders for all the principal Jews to be massacred the mo- ihent he expired*. And it was, on the contrary, from the midst of a luxurious and a voluptuous court, aboun- ding with every thing that could minister to ease, mag- nificence, and delight, that the scourge of the last cen- tury, Louis the XlVtli, gave orders for turning into a desert, the country of a prince, whose only crime it was to be his enemy f. So similar are the effects which flow from these two opposite extremes. Both these extremes the Christian cluu'ch experien- ced, about the time we arc speaking of, and, what was still more trying, experienced them in a very quick succession. The members of that church, from be- ing persecuted, tormented, afflicted, and treated as the off-scourings of the earth, became on a sudden the lords of it. Some, perhaps, 772^77 have fortitude enough to support great misery, or, what is perhaps no less difficult, extreme happiness, without any in- jury to their tempers. But it is very few that can bear a rapid transition from the one to the other, from indi- gence, distress, and oppression, to ease, security, and power. It was too much for the disciples even of the meek and humble Jesus. One might have thought, * Josephus. Antiq. 1 xvii. c 6. •}• Voltaire, though a Frenchman, and of course an adnoirer of Louis, yet Speaks of this barbarous devastation of the Palatinate in the terms it de- serves. The natural and affecting picture he draws of that shocking scene* must strike every heart with horror, Essai sur I'Hkioire Generale, torn. \. c. 16. SERMON XIL 149 perhaps, that upon the civil establishment of their re- ligion, the recent sense of iheir own sufferings would have taught them a lesson of mildness and moderation towards others. But it unhappily taught them the very- same lesson that it has generally taught to every other people in the same circumstances, in all ages of the world. For it is a fact too notorious to be denied, that in most contentions for superiority, whether religious or civil, the suffering party, when raised to power by a reverse of fortune, has scarce ever Hiiled to adopt that inhumanity under which they so lately groaned ; and it is not so much oppression that is crushed, as the op- pressor that is changed. Every one will, upon this occasion, recall to mind the well-known sanguinary struggles for power between the two rival states of Greece, and the still more sanguinary revolutions in the latter periods of the Roman republic ; where the only contest seemed to be, which should exceed the other in cruelty ; and where the remembrance of for- mer massacres was obliterated, not by acts of mercy and forgiveness, but by massacres still more furious and unrelenting, by the almost entire annihilation of the vanquished faction. When, therefore, our adversaries say that the Christians made no other use of the new-acquired as- sistance of the civil arm, than to harass one another, and oppress their enemies, what else do they say, than that Christians were men ;, that they only did what men of all rcl'igions and deriom'mat'wns have commonly done under the same circumstances and tem.ptations ; and that the spirit of the Gospel v;as lost in the corruption of human nature--'. * We find that even Julian, \\\& philosophic Julian, though not a Christian, yet by some means or other became a most zealous bigot and persecutor. He was of opinion, it seems, that a frantic patietit (that is a Christian) ■might sometimes be cured by salutary violence He apjjlied this remedv himself with no small degree of alacrity and vigor, and in some parts of his dominions allowed his jirovincial ministers to exercise the most brutal acts of cruelty towards the Christians with impunity, nay sometimes witli applause. He even added insult to ojipression. lie condescended to em- ploy against the detested Galileans (as he was pleased to call the Christians) the acrimony of his imperial pen, and made them feel, not only the whole weight of his sovereign power, but the utmost severity of his ironical and 159 BERMON XII. It might have been expected, indeed, thnt the ex- cellence of their religion would have restrained them from the common excesses of their species, and ren- dered them as much superior to other men in humanity and tenderness, as the benevolence of the Gospel was to that of every other religious institution in tlie world. And certain it is that Christianity did by degrees sof- ten and mitigate the ferocity of the human mind. But this was not to be done one the sudden, in large bodies of men and extensive empires. It could not, without a miracle, instantaneously change the temper of the times, and bring about in a moment an entire revolu- tion in the prevailing disposition and established char- acter of those ages. The Roman emperors and their armies had for many centuries been accustomed to vio- lence, war, dissension, and tumult. They had been accustomed also to see every thing bend to their power, and obey their commands. When, therefore, they be- came ligislators in religion, as well as in every thing else, they would carry the same ideas along with them, even into that subject. They would expect a submis- sion as complete and absolute in that point as in every other ; and, if the smallest resistance was made to their sovereign will and pleasure, they would be very apt to apply the same means to subdue stubborn con- sciences, which they had found so successful in subdu- ing provinces and kingdoms. Thus did force come to be considered as t!ie properest and most effectual argu- ment in religious as well as in civil contests. The ec- clesiastics would naturally be carried away in the gener- al current, with all the other subjects of the Roman empire, and adopt the predominant sentiments and habits of their countrymen. And it would require a sarcastic luit. The causes of those instances of intolerance, are not sureljr to be sought for in the religion of Christ. See Mr. Gibbon's Hist, of the Decline, Sec. vol. ii. p. 370. to 409- T\iq philosophers were the chief instiga- tors of the persecution of the Christians under Dioclesian ; and Mr. Hume acknowledges, that the most refined and philosophic sects, are constantly the most intolerant. With what justice then can "philosophy alone beast that her gentle hand is able to eradicate from the human mind the laient tind deadly principles of fanaticism I" H». vol i, ch. 8. n. 24. vol. ii. p. 50i. *nd vol. i. p. 560, SERMON XII. 151! consklcrablc length of time, and much juster concep- tions of the true character and genius of the Gospel than many of its teachers then entertained, to correct those inveterate prejudices, and subdue those turbu- lent passions, which had taken such firm hold upon their minds. III. With these obstacles in the waj^ it was hardly- possible for the mild and benevolent principles of Chris- tianity to produce any immediate effect. And their operation was most unfortunately still further obstruct- ed by another cause which took place in the succeed- ing ages. Those northern barbarians, who, not long after the civil establishment of Christianity, invaded and overran the western empire, brought in with them a spirit of cruelty and martial violence, which was pro- pagated with their dominions, and communicated from the conquerors to those they conquered. Their savage manners added fresh fuel to that sternness of disposition wliich had descended to the Christians of those ages from their Roman ancestors. At the same time, by declaring open war against all learning, sacred or pro- fane, they in a great measure precluded those whom they had vanquished from the only cScctual remedy that could be applied to that barbarity which they taught them. They rendered it almost impossible for them to acquire a complete knowledge and a right appre- hension of the true temper of the Gospel, whose mild and gracious influence could alone rectif}^ their errors and puiify their hearts. No wonder then, that when this influence was in a great measure lost, when the Scriptures were shut up in an unknown tongue, \vhen the cultivation of letters, and especially of all critical and biblical learning, was at an end, ^\ hen Gothic bru- tality Avas ingrafted on Roman fierceness, and every thing tended to inflame and exasperate the most furi- ous passions of the soul ; no wonder that the benefi- cent genius of Christianity could not operate with its full and genuine force on the manners of those times. Yet still, notwithstanding all those disadvantages, when tlie barbarians themselves became converts to the faith. 152 SERMON XIL it did in fact produce an effect, which no other cause was powerful enough to produce ; it moiUfied, in many important instances, the ferocious temper of those sa- vage conquerors, who were thus in their turn subdued by the religion of these very enemies whom they had vanquished in the field*. And though, for the reasons above assigned, the spirit of intolerance continued to prevail, and even gradually to gain ground ; yet it was not till about the beginning of the thirteenth century, in which darkness and barbarity overspread the face of the whole earth, that this evil arrived at its utmost height. It was not till then that the inhuman wars against the Albigenses first began, that Christendom became for a long time one continued scene of desola- tion, that persecution was reduced to a regular system, and murder made legal by that dreadful instrument of human fury, the inquisition ; in all which, Chris- tianity had just as much share, as ignorance, enthusi- asm, bigotry, and superstition, have in the composi- tion of genuine Christianity!. And although to us these wild excesses of mistaken seal do nov/ justly appear in the most odious colors, yet, as they w^ere only of a piece with the general practice of those ages in other instances, they did not then excite in the minds of men any peculiar degree of astonishment or horror. At a time v/hen m/ilitary ideas predominated in everything, in the form of government, in the temper of the laws, in the tenure, of lands, and even intheachnin- istration of justice itself, it could not be matter of much surprize that the church should become military too. And to those who were accustomed to see (as they then frequently did) a ci\'il right or a criminal charge, nay, even an abstract point of law J, decided by a combat or a fiery ordeal, instead of a legal trial, it would not • See History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ,vol. iii. p 533. 633. f Most of the bitter invectives, and eloquent declamations of both foreign and domestic philosophers against the mischievous effects of religion, ars not objections to Christianity but to pnpery ; and though they may em- barrass a Romish divine, yet seldom create any difficulty to a Protestant one. + Some very curious instances of this may be seeii in Dr. Robertson's History of Chailcs V. vol. i. note 22. p. olS. fcivo. SERMON XII. 153 seem at all extraordinary to teacli men Christianity by fire and faGfsrot, instead of arp-ument and reason. IV. There is still another very material considera- tion to be taken into the account. It is beyond a doubt, that a large part of those dissen- sions, wars, and massacres j which have been usually stiled religious, and with the entire guilt of which Chris- tianity has been very unjustly loaded, have been altoge- ther, or at least in a great measure, owing to political causes. Nothing has been more common, in all ages, than to see faction and ambition assuming a mask of religion, and pretending to fight in die cause of God and his church, when they had in reality nothing else in view but to create confusion or establish tyranny. It is well known, for instance, that the crusades them- selves, which are generally styled, by way of eminence, the Holy Wars, took their rise not from zeal for the Gospel or reverence for the Holy Land, but from the ambition, avarice, and rapacity, of two most turbulent Pontiffs* ; that the war of the League, and other civil wars in France, which were commonly supposed to have religion for their only subject, were in foct originally kindled, and principally fomented, by the restless in- trigues and personal resentments of the princes of the blood, and other great leaders of opposite flictionsf ; and that the dreadful distractions in this country, during the last century, were not (as one of our historians affirmsj) owing chiefly to religious controversy, but to political causes. By what he calls, the infusion of theological hatred, the sore was not made, but only inflamed ; and although Cromwell, with much solemnity, aftccted, in every stage of his guilty progress, to be only seeking the Lord, yet it soon appeared that he was in truth seek- ing, what he ultimately obtained, the subversion of the constitution, and the acquisition of sovereign power. From these, and innumerable other instances of a similar nature, which might be produced, it is evident * Gregory the Vllth, and Urban the lid. t See Davlla throughout ; but particularly B. i. and vi. in which he invce- tigates with great sagacity the secret springs of those disturbances. 1 Hume, Hist, of England, dto. vol. v. ]}. 255. u 154 SERMON XII. that difference of opinion in matters of faith, has mucli oftener been the ostensible than the real cause of thd • calamities which have been ascribed to it. But were we even to allow that it has been the true and only source of those calamities^ yet still the Gospel itself stands perfectly clear of all blame on this account. Whatever mischief persecution may have done in the world (and it has, God knows, done full enough) it was not Christ, but some mistaken followers of Christ, that brought this sword upon earth j' and it would be as injurious to ascribe to Revelation the false opinions and wronj^ practices of its disciples, however pernicious, as to impute to the physician the fatal mistakes of those who administered his medicines. The very best laws are liable to be perverted and misinterpreted. It was the fate of the evangelical law to be so. Its spirit was misunderstood, and its precepts misapplied, by some of its avowed friends, and its authority made use of as a cloak for cruelty and oppression by some of its se- cret enemies. But the Gospel all the while was guilt- less of this blood. It disclaimed and abhorred such unnatural supports, which it was as far from wanting as it was from prescribing. It authorized the use of no other means of conviction, but gendeness and persua- sion ; and if any of its disciples were, by a misguided zeal, betrayed into violent and sanguinary measures, the blame is all their own, and it is they must answer for it, not Jesus or his religion*. V. That this is a true representation of the case, ap- pears not only from the example and the declarations of our divine lawgiver, and the endless exhortations in the sacred writings to peace, love, mercy, compassion, and brotherly kindness towards all men ; but from this consideration also, that in proportion as the Scriptures came to be more studied, and Christianity of course better understood, intolerance lost ground continually, and grew less violent in every successive age. And no sooner did the revival of letters, and the reformation of * To impute crimes to Christianity is the act of a Novice. ' See the K. *f Prussia's Works, vol. xi p. 171, SERMON Xli. 155 some parts of the Christian church, disperse that yEgyp- tian darkness in which all Europe had been so long in- voh'cd, that juster notions, and milder sentiments of re- ligion, began immediately to take place. That hideous spectre persecution, which had terrified all the world during the night of universal ignorance, now shrunk at the approach of day : and when, upon the translation of the Bible into several languages then in vulgar use, every Protestant, with delight and astonishment, heard the Scriptures speak to him, in his own tongue wherein he was ^orn^-, he immediately felt the heavenly influ- ence upon his soul ; and, as the sacred writings opened more and more upon him, found his heart gradually melt within him into tenderness, compassion, and love towards every human being, of whatever denomination, party, sect, or persuasion. VI. From that time to the present, the divine prin- ciple of charity has been continually acquiring fresh strength. In every reformed, that is, in every enlight- ened country, the native mildness of Christianity has evidently shown itself in a greater or a less degree ; and by subduing, or at least greatly mitigating the spirit of intolerance, has demonstrated to all the world, that the genuine tendency of its doctrines and its precepts, when rightly understood, is not to bring destruction but peace upon earth. These happy consequences of a better acquaintance with Revelation, seem to be gradually making their way into other kingdoms. Even that church which was the original parent, and is still in some countries the chief support, of persecution, has of late appeared to feel some small relentings of humanity, and to abate a litdeof its native implacability. One of the firmest supporters of its tyranny, the society of Jesuits, is now no more, and many other of its religious com- munities are approaching gently to their dissolutionf. • Acts ii. 8. f In France, Germany, Venice, and many parts of Italy, several religious liouses have within the last ten or twenty years been suppressed. Smaller communities have been thrown together. In some, none are allowed to tai.m. 2.>. z 186 SERMON XV. one and the snme authority of God. Therefore, every offence against any of those laws is a contempt of the authority upon which they all depend, and consequent- ly every act of (iisobedience is a breach of the whole law, because subversive of that authority on which the whole law stands. But to this interpretation it has been observed tliat there is one insuperable objection. It is evidently lia- ble to all the diiiiculties of the stoical paradox, that all oifences are equal. For if the guilt of sin depends not upon the nature and circumstances of the sinful action, but upon the authority of the lawgiver, then c^ery sin being an offence against the same authority is of the same guilt and heinousness, and consequently v.'ili be subject to the same degree of punishment in a future state : which is clearly repugnant to every idea of equi- ty and justice, and (as we shall see hereafter) to the ex- press declarations of holy writ. We must therefore look to some other explanation of this confessedly diffi- cult passage more consonant to reason and to Scripture. Now the most probable way of arriving at the true sense of it, is, I conceive, to take into consideration the whole of the context, the persons to whom the Apos- tle's admonition is addressed, the particular object he " had in view, and the particular doctrine which that ob- ject required him to establish. The persons to whom this Epistle of St. James was addressed, were, as he himself tells us, the twehe tribes that vjei-e scattered abroad* ; that is, to those who had been converted from Judaism to Christianity, and who of course still retained several of their old Judaical pre- judices. Some of these Jewish Christians had, it seems, been guilty of making very invidious and grating distinc- tions between the rich and th.e poor in their religious assemblies ; had treated the former with the most flat- tering marks of respect, and the latter with harshness , and contempt. For this the Aposde in the verses pre- ceding the text, very severely reproves them, upbraids * James i. 1. SERMON XV. 187 them with the gross partiality they had shown on this occasion, and tells them, thai however trivial this sort of injustice might ai)[)ear to them, it was in fact a very serious offence, because it was a breach of the great evangelical law of charity, which forbids every kind of insult or injury to our poorer brethren*. " If, says he you fulfil the royal.law according to the Scripture, (that is, the la\v which says, then shall loi^e thy neighbor as thyself J y ye do well, but if ye have respect of persons, ye commit sin, and arc convinced of the law as trans- gressors, transgressors of the great royal law of Chris- tian charity or universal love. To this the Jcwisii convert would have an answer ready, founded on a re- ceived maxim, of his former religion. For the Jews entertained an idea that the reason why God gave them so many commandments was, that by keeping any one of them they might be saved. This therefore they would urge to the Apostle in their o\vn defence, and w^ould say — " Admitting that we have oiTended against the law of Christ in one instance, yet as we have ob- served it in another of great importance, ^ve shall still be entitled to the pardon of our sins, and the rewards of our virtue in a future state." A doctrine so false and pernicious as this, St. James would of course most strenuously oppose, and would naturally express his disapprobation of it in the strongest possible terms that language could supply. No, says he, so far is it from being true, that the observance of one single precept will save you, that the direct contrary doctrine is the true one. " For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point he is guilty of all." This is undoubtedly a very strong expression, but the peculiar circumstances of the case called for it ; and it must be understood, like many other concise and proverbial " St. Austin confines the Apostle's meann\^ entirdy and exclusively to of- fences against this great important law of Christian charity, which both lit. James and St. Paul say h the fiilf.Uing of the law. Plcnitndo legis est charitas, ac per i\oc qui totam legem servaverit si in nno oflenderit tit omnium reus, quia contra charitatem facit umle tota lex pen- 'as the only doctrine which he was called upon and which lie meant to es- tablish ; and in fact it is the doctrine which he does es- tablish in the verse immediately following the text, which clearly explains the meaning of tlie text itself, and by the illative particle for, was evidently intended to explaiii it. For, (says he,) He that said, do not commit adultery, said also, do not kill : nov/, if thou commit no adulter}^ yet if thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the hnv. This vis all that he asserts. But if it had been his intention to prove that he who offended in one point, was, strictly speaking, guilty of offending in all points, his conclusion would have been very different; it would have been this. If thou com- mit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art become a trans- gressor of the vJhok hn\)^ in every branch of it. But he SERMON XV. 189 says no such thing. He says only, tbou art become a transgressor of the Lto) ; and must consequently expect the punishment due to that transgression, notwithstand- ing thy observance of it in other respects. And as this verse must in all fair construction be considered as a comment on the text, it clearly ascertains the meaning of it to be what is here stated, and nothing more.* From this examination and elucidation of the pas- sage before us, the following conclusions may be drawn. First, that the offences which the Apostle had in view throughout the whole of his reasoning, and of which he speaks in the text, were offences against some impor- tant branch of the evangelical law, such as that of Christian charit}', for that is the very instance which he himself specificsf. 2d. The offences he alludes to are not casual trans- gressions arising from ignorance, inadvertence, sur- prize, or mere human infirmity, but wilful and pre- sumptuous sins habitually indulged^ . For that viola- lation of Christian charity v.ith w hich St. James char- *The truth of the interpretation here given, receives great confirmation from some remarks lately communicated to me by a very learned and in- genious friend of mine. He observes, that the concluding clauses of the 9th, 10th, and 11th verses of the 2d Chapter of St. James, (which we have been here considering) must necessarily be considered as Cfuivalent to each other. These three verses are as follows : V. 9. If ye have respect of persons, ye commit sin, and are convinced of ■ the law an transgressors. V. 10. For, whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, be is giji(ty of' ail. V. 11. For, he that said. Do not commit adultery, said also. Do not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the law. To every one that considers these three verses attentively, as connected with each other, and j)articularly the force of the illative particle for, in the two last, it will be evident that the 10th is meant to prove the truth of the 9th, and the 11th of the 10th. But the proof entirely fails, and the 10th and 11th verses are left without meaning, unless the clauses in each verse, which are printed in italics, were intended to convey precisely the satne idea. If this be admitted, the sense affixed to the te.\t, in this discourse, is fully es- tablished. t Hoc vult Jacobus. — Si quis observato rcliquo Evangelio prseceptum unum in re magni inoouc' ti ueg\)g:it (quale est prxceptum caritatis quo proximum ijoccre ve'amur) perinde cjse ac si alia etiam ncglecta esseut. Le Clerc. in Loc. Offendat in uno ; ntmpe eorum quibus poena capitalis constituta est. Grotiws. \ Seeker's Sermons, vol. vii- s. 3- p. 45, 190 SERMON XV. ges the Jewish converts appears to have been their con- stant practice. 3d. That although he who offends in one point will not be deemed equally guilty, or be subject to equal punishment with him who offends in all points ; yet still the consequences of indulging himseireven in o?ie favorite sin will be sufficiently dreadful to deter him from such a practice, and to induce him without delay to repent and reform. If he does not, he will in some material respects experience the same consequences, and be treated in the same manner as if he had been actually guilty of offending in all points. For in the first place, he will be excluded from those gk)rious rewards hereafter, which, through the merits of our Redeemer, arc promised to those that to the best of their power pay a uniform obedience to all the laws of Christ. The gates of heaven are shut against every habitual and unexpiated sin. He who lives and dies in the constant commission of any one presumptuous sin, shall have no more title to a future recompence than if he had been guilty of every sin ; and in this sense, by offending in one point, he may not improper- ly be said to be guilty of all ; for the consequence to him with regard to future happiness, will be the same as if he actually had been so. In the next place, he who is wilfully and habitually guilty of any one presumptuous sin will be certainly doomed to some degree of future punishment, as if he had transgressed every divine command instead of one. The Scriptures denounce irihulation and anguish against e'very soul of man that cloetb e'uii'^'. This indeed seems the natural consequence of being excluded from reward. For in our Lord's representation of the last judgment, there are but two classes into which all man- hind are divided, the wicked and the good, those who are punished and those who are rewarded. Between tliese there does not appear to be any middle rank, any Reutral set of beings, who are neither punished nor re- ivarded. The sbecp are placed on the right hand, and * Rem. ii. 9. . SERMON XV. 191 tile goats on the left, but we hear of none who have at station assigned them between both. They who da not *' go away into life eternal," are ordered to depart into a state of everlasting punishment. And since the offender in one point, cannot be among the first, he must necessarily be among the last. In this then, as well as in the loss of heaven, he shares the fate of him who is guilty of all. Thus flir, then, the partial and the universal sinner agree. They are both excluded from happiness : they are both sentenced to future punishment. But here the resemblance between them ceases, and the parallel must be pushed no further. Here begins the parting point, the line of separation, between the two cases. Here that limitation of the text takes place, which common jus- tice and common sense require. Though the offender in one point, and the offender in all, are both doomed to punishment, yet it is by no means to equal punish- ment. It may be, and probably is, the same in hin(U but it cannot possibly be the same in degree. V.'c liave every assurance which reason and Scripture can give, that the future sufferings of sinners will be exact- ly suited to their respective crimes. The Judge of all the earth will assuredly do right, and all the world shall see and acknowledge the perfect impartiality of his pro- ceedings. Proportionable rewards and punishments, are every A\here announced in the Gospel in the clear- est and most explicit terms. We are toM, that *' some " shall be beaten witli many stripes, and sonie \\\i\\ *' few*," and that " it shall be more tolerable for cer- " tain persons in the day of judgment than for othersf," who shall receive " a greater condemnation." Who- ever therefore thinks himself authorized by the text to go on from sin to sin, and to accumulate one crime upon another, from a presumption that he shall not suf- fer more for offending in all points than for offending only in one ; and that, after the first deviation from vir- tue, every subsequent vice may be practised with im- • punity, will find himself most fatally deceived. As * Lnke xii: 4, 48> f Matt. x. \i. 1D2 SERMON XV. sure as God is just, and the Gospel is true, so surely will the judgments of the last day be inflicted on all im- penitent offenders, not promiscuously and indiscrimi- nately, but in weight and measure precisely balancing their several demerits. And although from the text we may collect, that any one vice, habitually indulged, will as effectually exclude us from reward, and sub- ject us to punishment, as if we had been guilty of cuery vice ; yet the degrees of that punishment will be exact- ly proportioned to the number and the magnitude of the sins we have committed. That the sense here given to St. James' words is the true one, must, I think, be allowed by every one that will take the trouble of casting his eye on the chap- ter from whence the text is taken, and that which im- mediately precedes it. He will see that the apostle's reasoning, throughout a great part of these chapters, is directed against that most dangerous notion, which the heart of man has been at all times but too apt to entertain, and which the Jews more especially, car- ried to a most extravagant height, that imhersal holi- ness of life is not necessary to salvation ; that a partial obedience to the divine law is sufficient to secure both impunity and reward ; and, that many virtues will cover and excuse one favorite vice. This was the error which the apostle undertook to combat ; and in order to do this, it was not (as I have already observed) necessary for him to prore, that he who offends in one point is, literally and strictly speaking, guilty of all. This was going not only beyond all bounds of credibility and truth, but beyond every thing that this argument required. All that this naturally led him to prove was, that no i?n- penitent offender^ even though he offended in one point on- ly^ shoidd either obtain reward or escape punishment. Accordingly, it is this doctrine which he endeavors throughout the whole context to establish. It is this which he lays down with peculiar emphasis in the text ; it is this which he inculcates a few verses before, in words nearly as forcible as those in the text, and which will assist us in confirming the interpretation here giv- SERMON XV. 193 en of it. The words I mean are these : "If any man among you," says he, " seem to be religious, and *' bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, '■^ that mail's religion is lia'in^.''^ Here, you see, isa« specification of one particular point (that of habitual eml-speaking^ in all the worst senses of that word) in which lie supposes that a man, in other respects. reli- gious and unblameable, offendsf. And what does he say of that man ? Why, that his religion is vain, is un- profitable, is useless to him, will in the last day avail him nothing, will neither entitle him to reward, nor exempt him from punishment. When therefore, within a few verses after this, he resumes the argument, and says *' Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend *' in one point, he is guilty of all," who can have any doubt that he means nothing more than to express, in stronger and more comprehensive terms, the very same doctrine which he had just before laid down with re- gard to one particular case ? The clearness of the former passage reflects light on the obscurity of the lat- ter; and when St. James says, "Whosoever shall " keep the whole law% and yet offend in one point, he " is guilty of all,^^ it is exactly the siime as if he had said, " Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet " offend in one point, that man''s religion is vain :" wdll be of no benefit to him in the great day of retribution. He will be as far from obtaining either impunity or re- \vard, as if he had been guilty of every sin instead of onej. The justness of this explanation will, I apprehend, appear in a still stronger light, if we try it (as all expla- nations of Scripture ought to be tried) by considering in one view the whole passage from whence the text is * James i.' 26. f- See Benson in Loc. \ There is a vet-y ingenious conjecture of Baulacre's, in Wet- stein, on the text in question, James ii. 10. Instead of thQ com- mon reading, y.-yovs 7rx)irm evo^e? , he proposes (with a very small variation) yeyovs ttmtox; iwy^t^ : tliat is, he is undonbudhj guihy, he is charl'j a transgressor oi the law. Just as it is said, Acts xxviii, 4. Tlccvru? ithout reluctance, and are as ready to break any of God's law s at their sug- gestion, as to observe them. Let us bring this matter home to our own l:)Osoms, let us judge from our own sentiments and feelings on similar occasions. Should we think that man a sincere \Y\i^\Y\ to us, who, \\\\Qxc it coincided with his natural propensities, where it flattered his \anity or indulged Bb 202 SERMON XVI. his pride, where it served his ambition or promotecf his interest, would very readily show us any mark of kindness and regard ; but, where it thwarted any of these views, would most shamefully desert us, although in the utmost need of his assistance ? Or, should we think that servant worthy of his hire, and of our fa- vor, who, although in other points he behaved well, yet in one material part of his business, where his ser- vice was most necessary, and most acceptable to us, acted in direct opposition to our express orders ? Should we not call the one a deceitful friend, and the other a worthless servant, and renounce them both, with the contempt and indignation they deserved ? And how then can we imagine that God will accept such a service at our hands, as the meanest man amongst us w^ould tliink an insult upon him ? How can we suppose that he w ill be content with the leavings of our passions ; will be satisfied with our observance of those laws which we have not perhaps the least inclination or temptation to transgress ; and overlook our disobedi- ence in that only pomt where we can show the sincerity of our attachment to him ; ^vhere our passions and our interests interfere with our duty, and strongly prompt us to rebel against our Maker ? " Let then every one that names the name of Christ " depart from iniquity*" of every kind. Let him " eschew his own peculiar wickedness.'* Let him take a resolution of immediately repenting of and re- linquishing that favorite sin which does most easily be- set him ; and if his repentance is sincere, and his re- formation effectual, his past offences ^viil for the sake, and through the merits of Christ (who came into the world for the very purpose of saving sinners) be for- given and blotted out ; and he will be restored to the favor of God, and received into the arms of his mercy. But if on the contrary he wilfully and obstinately per- sists through life in any one presumptuous and habitual bin, he will be as effectually excluded from reward, and * 2 Tim. ii. 1-1. SERMON XVI. 203 subjected to some degree of luinibhment, as if he had of- fended in lill points instead of one. This is die true, the genuine doctrine of holy writ. The doctrine of the world, I know, is of a very differ- ent complexion ; and we have been favored with sys- tems of morality, and plans of education, of a much more compliant, and commodious, and indulgent tem- per*. The substance of them is comprized in a few Mords; " adulation to those we despise, courtesy to " those we hate, connections without friendship, pro- " fessions without meaning, good humor without be- *' nevolence, good manners \\ithout morals, appear- *' ances saved and realities sacrificed." These are the maxims which are now to enlighten and improve man- kind ; and as they come recommended with every ad- vantage that wit, and ease, and elegance of composition, can give them, there is but too much reason to appre- hend that a large part of the rising generation will receive these oracles with implicit faith^ and consider tlieir authority as sovereign and supreme in some of the most essential articles of moral conduct. The times did not seem to call for any new encouragements to licen- tiousness. But what else can be expected, when (as the prophet complains) " men forsake the fountain of liv- " ing water, and hew them out cisterns, broken cisterns, *• that can hold no waterf ;" when, deserting the plain road of moral rectitude which Revelation sets before them, they strike out into devious and crooked paths, and form a fanciful system of their own, in which every thing is modelled exactly to their mind ; in which vi- ces are transformed into virtues, and virtues into vices, just as it happens to suit their particular taste and con- venience ? Can there possibly be a more convincing proof of the utter inability of hunian Avisdom, even in its most improved and exalted state, to undertake the direction of our moral behavior, and the absolute ne- cessity of light from above to guide our steps aright, * The well-known letters, of a deceased nobleman to his son, were puL- lished a few months before this Ecmnon was ])reached at St. James'. •J- Jeremiah ii. 13. 204 SERMON XVI. even In what we are pleased to call this enlightened age ? Can any thing more clearly show the infinite obligations we are under to Christianity, for taking this important business out of the hands of man, and placing it in the hands of God ; for marking out to us one straight undeviating line of conduct, and forbid- ding us, under the severest penalties, to turn aside from it " to the right hand or to the left ?" Who does not now see the wisdom, the reasonableness, the utility of the doctrine in the text, that " whosoever shall keep "the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is " guilty of all ?" Who does not see, that to recede one tittle from, the true meaning of this declaration, is to open a door for the admission of every imaginable in- iquity ? When once we begin to question the necessi- ty of imi'versa/ holiness ; a^ hen once we begin to make laws for ourselves, and to determine peremptorily that this virtue is illiberal, and that impracticable, this vice a pardonable frailty, and that a necessary accomplish- ment, it is easy to perceive, that there must soon be an end of all distinction between right and wrong. If one man, for instance, tliinks that adultery and hy- pocrisy are in certain circumstances, and on certain oc- casions allov/able ; w by may not another claim the like indulgence for anger, pride, ambition, or revenge, and rank them also in the number of genteel and reputable vices ? There is, in fact, hardly a crime in nature which has not somewhere or other a patron and de- fender. And thus, if every man, instead of eschewing his own peculiar wickedness, is to have an exemption granted him from every restraint \vhich he happens to think inconvenient, the duties of religion will be all picked cut of the gospel one by one, till there is not a single virtue left, w hich may not be evaded whene- ver we think fit. This instance then, among a thousand others, may serve to convince us, how dangerous it would be to al- low the smallest latitude in the terms ar.d measures of pbedience ; and how necessary it is for those, who ar^ SERMON XVI. 205 the appointed guardians of evangelical truth, to natch over it with unremitted vigilance. ; and on no account to lower the sublime tone of Gospel morali- ty, in order to make it speak a softer language, and accommodate it to the fanciful conceits and corrupt casuistry of \\ orldly wisdom. Men may undoubtedly act by \\ hatever rule they please ; but the rule by w liicli they will be judged is that of the gospel ; and all that %vc can do is to lay it plainly and fiirly before them, and warn them loudly of the danger of following any other guide. They may ftncy, if they will, that improved and elevated minds are above ijulgar re- straints ; that what is vice in a low station, by ascend- ing into a superior region, leaves its dregs behind, and is sublimated into virtue ; that dissimulation, though a base coin, is a necessary one- ; and that the grossest irregularities, \\ hen ihey help to embellish our man- ners, are not vices of the heart, but little infirmities of youth, which are sure to meet with indulgence here, and impunity hereafter. If men of ingenuity chuse to amuse themselves with such imaj^inations as these ; and if others think it prudent to take them for their guide rather than God^ they must do it at their own peril. But they w'ho pretend to any principle, or any religion, will do \A'ell to remember, that He who has the sole right of regulating our conduct, and who alone can inform us on what terms he will receive or reject us for ever. He has prescribed to us a very diiferent course of behavior. He requires from us, not merely the appearance^ but the reality ; not the " form only, " but the povrer of godliness." He holds out the same rule of life to high and low, to rich and poor : " He re- *' gardeth not the persons of men ;" and if he has gi- ven any onehum.an being '' a licence to sin," let that licence be produced. He commands us not to con- form to a corrupt world, not to flatter and dissemble^ m order to please and deceive all mankind, but, "in * A heathen vnr,\-z\\!,t was, however, it seems of a different opinion. Ex omni vita simulatio &. dissimulatio tollsnda est, Cic De Off. 1. iii. c. 15. 206 SERMON XVI. " SIMPLICITY AND GODLY SINCERITY tO haVC OUF "conversation in the world*." What 5i97?7^ call par- donable infirmities, He calls vices of the heart ; and plainly tells us that they defile the man\. And to cut off all hopes of indulgence to any favorite sin. even though surrounded with a constellation of virtues, he declares, that "whosoever shall keep the whole law, ^' and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." * 2 Cor. i. 12. t Matth. xv. IS. SERMON XVII. Luke iv. 17, 18, 19, 20. ^ind there Tcas delivered unto him the book- of the profihet Esaias i and ivhen he had ofiened the book., he found the ^dace ivhere it •was written^ The spirit of the Lord is ji/ion ;«e, because he hath anovited me to jireach the Gospel to the poor ; he hath sent me to heal the bro- ken-hearted., to preach deliverance to the captives., and re- covering of sight to the blind ; to set at liberty them that are bruised^ To preach the acceptable year of the Lord. ,ind he closed the book., and he gave it again to the 7?iinister, and sat doivn I and the eyes band, wife, and infant children, to be sold separately. It obliges the owners to maintain their old, infirm, and decrepid slaves. It forbids them the use of torture, or of immoderate and inhuman punish- ments. If the Negroes are not fed and clothed as the laws prescribe, or if they are in any rcspct cruelly treated, they may apply to the Procureur, who is obliged by his office to jirotect and redress them. Such is the humane at- tention of the Fvencli nation to their slaves. Many excellent laws have also been made in favor of the Indians employed !>y the Spaniards in South America. And besides these, every district of Indians has a protector ; clergvmen, paid by government, are appointed to instruct them ; and the princij)al ecclesiastics are empowered to inform and admonish the civil ma- gistrates, if any Indians are deprived of their just rights. The Negroes live there not only in ease but in luxury. See Robertson''s History of America, 1st edit. 4:o. vol. ii. p. ooO, 368, 374, o77, 4So. 214 SERMON XVII. ill the Islands, have of late begun to see this matter in the right point of view. They have given repeated injunctions to their agents and manaoers, both to iiut- igate the hardships and promote the instruction of their Negroes ; and the planters in general are no longer alarmed with an imagination which was former]}' en- tertained, that when their Negroes become Christians, they cease to be slaves ; and that in proportion as they are more religious, they grow less faithful, active, and industrious. Add to this, that the last war, amidst a multitude of evils such as war necessarily produces, has been attended with one accidental eifect, which whatever may be thought of it in a commercial view, I do not scruple, in a religious one, to call a blessing. It has very greatly impeded and diminished that oppro- brious traffic, in which this country has for a long time taken the lead, the sla'uc- trade on the coast of Africa. The consequence of this has been that several of the West India planters have been induced to treat their slaves, especially the females and their children, M'ith more than ordinary tenderness and indulgence, in order to supply their v;ant of Negroes by their ov. n natural population.* Should thise wise and humane practice become an established and universal custom, it would exceedingly facilitate the work both of instruction and conversion, by furnishing a succession of young Ne- gro catechumens, well acquainted with the English iancruasre, f imiliarised to the Enp-lieh customs, and imcorrupted by those heathenish principles and savage TJ'-inners with which tlie constant importation of fresh * There can be lit'h doubt but that this might easily be efFected by proper C2XC and attention, Ijy granting particular privileges, rewards, and even free- Jom, to the mothers ai large families ; by allowing more ease and belter uourishnient to the Negroes ; by impressing early and strongly upon their minds the belief and the practice of the Christian religion, which can alone veitrain that unbounded and promiscuous commerce with their women, which (by the acknowledgment of the jilanters themselves) is the principal ob- stacle to their natural increase ; and by a variety of other expedients, which humanity and sound policy would naturally dictate. And although this might be attended perhaps at first with some trifling expense, . and with some small abatement of present exertion; yet all this would be amply- overpaid by the prodigious savings of what is usually expended in the pur- chase of fresh slaves, and by the great and acknowledged siqjeriority of liome-born Negroes to those imported from Africa. See Long's Hhtory e/~ Jamaica, p. 436, 437, 439. SERMON XVII. 215 slaves from Africa has never failed to infect them, and to obliterate in a few weeks all those sentiments of morality and religion Vvhich it had been the work of years to impress upon their minds. These surely arc considerations which afford the Society much fairer prospects of success than it has ev- er yet had. The harvest in this quarter ]:»romises to be much more plenteous than we have hitherto found it, and may well encourage us to bestow more of our at- tention upon it, and to send more laborers into it. — Whenever this resolution is taken, we shall undoubt- edly think it necessary and right to begin with the Ne- groes on our trust-estates in Barbadces*^ ; to try how far the work of conversion can actually be carried, to put in practice every possible expedient, first to civil- ize, and then to make them, what they undoubtedly may be made, not merely nominal, but real Christians. The Society has indeed ahvays shewn a most laudable solicitude both for the temporal and eternal welfare of tlie slaves employed on their plaiitations. They have given the most positi\'e and peremptory orders to their managers to treat them with the utmost tenderness and humanity. They have appoiuted a catechist for the sole purpose of instructing them in the doctrines and duties of Christianity. They have taken care that their Negroes shall be regularly sumnioned to divine worship, and enjoy, without interruption, the sa- cred rest they are entitled to on the Lord's Dav. For this purpose they have allowed them for their own use the afternoon also of the preceding day ; and their jour- nals are full of the strongest and most earnest injunctions to their catechist to exert his utm.ost zeal in impress- ing a right sense of religion on the minds of their slaves ; a point which the Society 'declare in their let- ters that it is impossible for them cDer to gii^e up\. These, it must be ov.ncd, are wise and truly Christiaa regulations, and highly suitable to the chara'cter of this venerable Society. But it is greatly to be doubted * Certain lands in Barhadocs, bequeathed to tlie Society by General Ccd- dringtci! ;';/ trust for particular uses speciik-d in his \s\\\. \ See the Society's Jniinals, irught by Biitish merchants. The .tonstant annual importation, and of course the annual cansumptiun, of Ne- frroes in America and the West Lnlies, is supposed to have been of late years, on an average, about 60,0J0. 'I'he Abbe Rasnal states the total ini- _j3ortation from Africa, since the hrst beginning of the slave-trade, ntne nut' APPENDIX TO SERMON XVII. 223 Let then our countrymen make haste to relieve, as far as they are able, the calamities they have brought on so larjre a part of the human race ; let them enoea- vor to Wipe aA\ ay the reproach of having deliverer over so many of their innocent fellow-creatures to u most heavy temporal bondage, both by contributing to soothe and alleviate that as much as possible, and by endeavoring to rescue them from the still more cruel bondage of ignorance and sin. Let them, in short, concur, with the generous efforts of the Society " ^to " heal tiie brohcn-hcartcdy to preach deliverance to tnc " capthcs, and recovery of sight to the bl'iml to set at •' liberty them that are bruised, to preach the accepta- "■ ble year of the Lord." APPENDIX TO SERMON XVII. THAT the slave-trade to the coast of Africa might without any material injury to our islands be abolished bv one of the methods mentioned in the last note to the preceding sermon p. 222, has been repeatedly, and I think very satisfactorily proved. The attempts, however, that have been made to carry into efiect any mode of abolition, have for the present failed, and the question is now probai)ly at rest for many years. But although the main object of this great and memorable contest lias been unfortunately lost, and tlie. eftcrts of those truly great men, who to their immortal honor contended for the extinction of this odious traffic, have not been attended with that complete success ^vhlch might have been expected from the justice of their cause, the weight of their arguments, the splendor of Hans of slaves. Ifht. Pli/. vol \v. v- 134. Surely it dcscnes conEkleration again and again, whether this cruel havock might not be prevented, ^itbo>a tiny injury to the idands, by some one of the methods above suggested ; ei- iher bv trying to cultivate the sugar-cane by enfranchised blacks, or by the abolition cf the slave-trade, at a certain distant jiericd, or by giving suctt encoura.qCTnent to the population of the Negroes in our i-slanUs, a& inig^ render their increase equal to the demand of the plantauons, and prcauac the Hccesbiry of an/further importation from Africa. 224 APPEXDIX TO SERMON XVII. their talents, and the unrivalled power of their elo- quence, yet still many important advantages have inci- dentally arisen from the agitation of the question, and the cause of humanity has upon the whole been a con- siderable gainer by the conflict. In the first place, many excellent regulations have been made respecting the vessels in which the negroes are conveyed from Africa to the West Indies, and the mode of treating them during their voyage ; which have contributed most essentially to the preservation of their lives, and to the alleviation of the extreme mis- ery they formerly endured in passing from one country to the other. 2. Since the discussion of this question, the condi- tion of the negro slaves in the British West India isl- ands, has been considerably ameliorated. A much greater degree of lenity and gentleness has been exer- cised towards them, by the greater part of the West In- dia proprietors, than is said to have generally prevailed in the islands twenty years ago. Their ease and com- fort have in several instances been very humanely con- sulted, and some very salutary laws have been enacted for their protection, and security, especially in die Isl- ands of Jamaica, and Grenada. 3. Another most important advantage, resulting from this contest, is that in the course of it, the nature of the slave-trade to the coast of Africa, has been fully laid open to the world ; all its horrors have been drag- ged forth to public view, and tlie grand point in dis- pute, on which the controversy chiefly turned, and the truth of which was for a long time most strenuously denied by the opposers of the abolition, I mean the in- justice, the inhumanity, and the immorality of that trade, has been at length given up, even by several of the West India proprietors themselves, and those too of the most respectable characters and talents. I appeal in the first place, to the full, explicit, and honorable confession of the late Mr. Bryan Edwards (the celebrated historian of the West Indies, and an enemy to the abolition of the slave-trade) in his speech APPENDIX TO SERMON XVII. 225 delivered at a free conference between the council and assembly of the island of Jamaica, on the 19th of No- vember, 1780. The passage I allude to is as follows. *' I am persuaded diat Mr. Wilberforce, has been very rightly informed, as to the manner in which slaves are generally procured. The intelligence I have collected from my own negroes abundantly confirm Mr. Wil- berforce's account ; and I have not the smallest doubt that in Africa the effects of this trade are precisely such as he represents them to be. Sir, the whole or greatest part of that immense continent is a field of \varfare, and desolation ; a wilderness in which the inhabitants are wolves toward each other. That this scene of oppression, fraud treachery, and blood, if not originally occasioned, is in part (I will not say wholly) upheld by the slave-trade, I dare not dispute. Every man in the sugar islands may be convinced that it is so, who will inquire of any African negroes, on their first arrival, concerning the circumstances of their captivity. The assertion that a great many of them are criminals and convicts, is a mockery and insult ; nor can any thing be more fallacious than a comparative reference to the number of felons transported annually from England." Mr. Edward'' s speech at a Free Conference, ^c. p. 10. In the next place, I appeal to the motion made by Mr. Charles Ellis, in the bouse of commons, April 6, 1737, for adopting such measures as might gradually diminish the necessity of the slave-trade, and ultimate- ly lead to its complete termination ; which motion (as we are informed by one of the speakers in that debate] was, much to their honor, made at the general and al- most unanimous desire of the whole West Indian body in the house of commons, afeer many and deep con- sultations*. In the debate on this motion, Mr. Ellis candidly confesses that the slave-trade could not be considered in any odier light, than as a necessary cDil\ ; and that if the-questions were changed to a deliberation, wheth- ■' Mu Barhain's speech. -;\ 56. •<. Mr. Ellis's speech. p- 38. E e 226 APPENDIX TO SERMON XVII. er a system should or should not now be established, which must depend for its future existence on a trade in slaves, the discussion might then be confined to the merits of such a trade ; and arguing simply on that principle, it would be impossible for any man of com- mon humanity^ to hesitate in foregoing whatever advan- tages might be expected from such a system*. It appears then from this speech of Mr. Ellis, and still more from that of Mr. Edwards, that the merits of the trade are completely abandoned, and the pro- priety of putting a termination to it admitted. The question is therefore, now brought into a very narrow compass, and reduced to this single point ; what is the best and safest and most eifectual mode of remov- ing this dreadful scourge of so large a part of the hu- man race. This will be the sole subject of consider- ation, if ever this great question shall be again resum- ed ; and when all the ability and wisdom of the two houses of parliament are directed to this single point now at issue, we may reasonably flatter ourselves that the decision of it will not meet with much difficulty or much delay. • Mr. Ellis's speech, p. 2. SERMON XVIII. Jqhn xiii. 23. J^'bw there nvan Imnwg' on Jesus' bosom one of his discijiles, xvhom Jesus loved. nj'^HE person here described, is St. John die Evan- JL gelist, die author of diat Gospel whicli bears his name, and from Avhich the text is taken. It was he ■who enjoyed the honorable distinction of being placed next to his di\'ine Master, and of leaning on his bo- som at supper. He was, moreover, always one of those Avhom our Lord admitted to his most confiden- tial conversations and most interesting transactions, es- pecially in the last awful and affecting scenes of his life ; and he is scarce ever mentioned by any other name than that of the disciple whom jesus lov£d*. These circumstances plainly mark die favorite and the friend : and, on the other hand, if w'e advert a little to the conduct of St. John towards our Lord during the course of his sufferings, the very time when true friendship would be most apt to show itself, we shall discover in it plain indications of a strong and tender affection. When cur Saviour was betrayed by Judas, and ap- prehended by the Jews, though St. John had at first, Avith all the other disciples, forsaken him and fled ; yet his affection soon got the better of his fears, and prompted him to follow his Lord, at the utmost hazard of his own life, into the palace of the high-priestf. • John xiii. 23 ; xix. 26 ; xx. 2 ; xxi. 7- 30. \ See Le Clerc, DoddiLdge, and other commentators on John xviii. 15, 1*. 228 SERMON XVIII. \ St. Peter did the same, but in a very short time after- wards, exhibited a melancholy instance of human in- firmity, and notwithstanding the most vehement and passionate professions of inviolable attachment to Je- sus, he denied him three times with execrations and oaths. St. John's way of manifesting his sincerity was not by words, but by deeds. He faitlifully ad- hered to his divne Master in the very midst of his en- emies, and with fond anxiety pursued him through all the various events of this distressful period of his life. — After Jesus was condemned and hung upon the cross, casting his eyes down from that dreadful eminence, he saw among the crowd " the disciple whom he loved *' standing by*." It does not appear from the history that there were any other of the Aposdes that attend- ed him in this last melancholy scene except St. John. — ■ They were terrified, it should seem, vv ith the danger of openly espousing him at so critical a time. But, unawed by any such apprehensions, which all gave way to the ardor of his friendship, and the extremity of his grief, our evangelist placed himself as near as he could to the cross, to catch the dying looks, and to wait the last commands of his Lord and friend. Those commands were soon given him, in the most affecting terms ; and the trust then reposed in him was of such a nature as plainly showed what unbounded confidence his dying Master placed in his fidelity and affection. For our Lord observing several women, and among them his mother, standing near his cross, fixed in grief, horror, and amazement, at that dreadful specta- cle, he said to his mother, " Woman, behold thy son !" then, turning towards St. John, *' Behold thy moth- e injudicious encom- iums of heathen moralistc had raised to a romantic and a dangerous height. Car divine lawgiver showed his w isdom equally in what he enjoined, and what he left unnoticed. He knew exactly, what no Pagan philos- opher ever knew, where to be silent and where to speak. It was not his intention, it v.as Indeed far below his dignity, to say fine things upon popular subjects ; pleasing perhaps to a few, but utterly useless to the bulk of mankind. His objec: was of a much more important and extensive nature : to inculcate the plain, humble, practical duties of piety and morality ; the du- ties that were of universal concern and indispensible obligation, such as were essentially necessary to our well-being in this life, and our everlasting happiness in the next. Now the warmest admirers of friendship cannot pretend to raise it into a duty, much less into a duty of this high rank. It is a delightful, it is an ami- 232 SERMON XVIII. able, it is often a laudable attachment ; but it is nat a necessary requisite either to the present welfare or the future salvatiyn of mankind in general, and conse- quently is not of sufficient importance to deserve a distinct place in the Christian system. The utmost that could be done there was to show (and it was suffi- ciently shown by the example of our Lord) that a vir- tuous friendship does not militate against the spkit of his religion ; but is, on the contrary, as we shall see presently, improved and exalted b}^ its precepts, and finds in them its best foundation and its firmest support. From the mere silence then of the Gospel on this subject, no inference can be justly drawn against the lawfulness of friendship. But it is urged further (and it is a circumstance which seems to have had much weight with some very ingenious defenders of Revela- tion*) that it was one great object of the Christian religion to introduce into the world a temper of uni- versal benevolence and good- will ; and with that view its business was, not to contract^ but to expand our af- fections as mucli as possible ; to throw down all the little mean fences and partitions, within which the hu- man heart is too apt to intrench itself, and lay it open to nobler vievi'S, and a larger and more liberal sphere of action. Hence it is imagined, that friendship must necessarily be inconsistent with the genius of that reli- gion, because it lavishes on one object all that kindness and affection which ought to be diffused among the whole human race. And, indeed, if friendship would be content v.ith nothing less than the surrender of our whole stock of benevolence, without the least reserve for the rest of our fciiow creatures, it might v, ell be deemed a monopoly altogether incompatible with that free and general commerce of good offices, which the Gospel certainly meant to extend to every quarter of the globe. But this surely is far from being a true state of the case. We may discharge every tender office that friendship can demand, without neglecting any of those social duties vrhich Revelation enjoins. * Partiailarlv the late Mr. Scame Jin; ns. SERMON XVIIT. 233 There are various gradations of afTection, correspond- ing to the various relations of life, all in perfect con- cord one ^vith another, and contributing each their respective parts towards the ccn^posilion of that harmo- ny which ought to reign tiiroughout the whole. Con- nubial tenderness, filial affection, fraternal fondness, parental ]r /e, all these are /?a;v/<:7/ attachments, no less- tlian friendship, yet these most certainly the Gospel does not forbid. Why then should friendship be thought less reconcileable than these with the temper of our religion ? The truth is, the design of Chris- tianity was not to extinguish^ but to regulate orAy, and reduce to their proper dimensions, all our private and personal connections. Within the wide circumference of Christian charity, it allow s us to form as many smaller circles of bene\^oIence as we please. It requires only that our affections 5>hould move in them under the control of that sovereign law of universal love, which, like the great principle of attraction iri the nraterial world, is diffused throughout our moral svs- tem, to guide, direct, and regulate the whole, and to restrain within proper limits every subordinate senti- ment and inferior movement of the soul. Under these restrictions, so far is Christianity from being nd- "oerse to any virtuous connections, that it actually pro- vides a remedy for the greatest imperfection under which they labor. It does, what in the fond hour of affection has been often wished, but, till the Gospel appeared, wished in vain ; it renders our friendsliips immortal. Itrevi\'es tlii.t uiuon which death seems to dissolve ; it restores us again to those whom we most dearly loved, in that blessed society of " just men *' made perfect," which is to form, probably, one great part of Gurfelicitv in heaven. IF. But secondly ; llie cxar.^.ple of our Lord, in se- lecting one beloved disciple, does not only give liis snidion tofriendsliip, but it teaclics us also' what sort of friendship it is that he allov.s and authorizes. Tor, whatever those qualities were v. Iiich attracted his no- tire, and conciliLited his affection, In the person of St. F f 234 SERMON XVIII. John, these, we may be sure, are the pfoiper constitir-- ents of a legitimate, a Christian friendship. Now it does not appear that St. John was distinguished by any of those showy intellectual accomplishments which are of all others most apt to strike our fancy and captivate our hearts, although, in fact, they are often much bet- ter calculated for the amusement of a convivial hour, than for that constant fund of comfort and satisfaction through life, which we naturally expect from a well- formed friendship. That which principally attracts our notice, in his \vritings, and in his conduct, is a sim- plicity and singleness of heart, a fervent piety, an un- bounded benevolence, an unaffected modesty, humili- ty, meelmess, and gentleness of disposition. These are evidently the great characteristic virtues that took the lead in his soul, and break forth in every page of his Gospel and his Epistles. These then are the qual- ities we ought principally to regard in the choice of our friends, and to cultivate in ourselves, if we would t^.onciliate and preserve their affections. Now it is very observable, tliat these qualities are the very virtues which are properly styled eiiangelkaly which the Chris- tian revelation more particularly recommends, and which distinguish it from all other religions that ever appeared in the world. A friendship, tiierefbre, foun- ded on these principles, is, strictly and properly speak- ing, a Christian fricruhbip, and it Aviii be the direct opposite of those celebrated instances of Pagan friend- ship, of which we hear so much in ancient story. The characteristics of these commonly were, a haugh- ty and overbearing spirit ; a vindictive, implacable, and ininetucus tem.per; an intrepidity superior to every danger, and every consideration of justice, hon- «.'sty, and humanity, in behalf of those partners in their iniquity v.'hom they chuse to call their friends. Such wild extra varancies as these, as well as those - confederacies in vice, Mhich young men, even now i:0metime3 compliment \\ii\\ tlie name of friendship, are indeed diametrically opposite to the genius of Chris- tianity. But it Arould be as unfeir to take our ideas of SERMON XVIII. 235 friendship from llicsc corrupt perversions of it, as to form our notions of liberty from the excesses of a lawless rabble, or our sentiments of religion from the ravings of a delirious enthusiast. To know what friendship really is, we must look for it in that sacred repository of every thing great and excellent, the Gos- pel of Christ. We shall there not only see it actually existing in its utmost perfection in the person of Christ and his beloved disciple ; but ^ve shall find that almost all the virtues on which his religion lays the greatest stress, have a natural tendency to generate it in our souls. Examine only the several branches of benevolence, as they lie in the sacred writings, and especially in that exquisite picture of charity which is drawn by the masterly hand of St. Paul*, and you will perceive that nothing is more easy than to graft upon them a firm and lasting friendship. They contain all the right princii^les and rudiments of that delightful sentiment ; and these being once fairly laid before the world, every man was left (as it was fit he should be) to make the application of them himself, at his own dis- cretion, to the purposes of friendly union, according a,s inclination led, or opportunity invited him. There can want nothing more than the concurrence of two congenial minds, to kindle these sparks of friendship, into a flame, much purer, I apprehend and brighter, and more permanent, than ever glowed within the breast of a heathen. From the whole then of this inquir}', it appears, that whoever cultivates the duties prescribed by the Gospel, will be of all others the best qualified for a vir- tuous friendship. But what is of far more consequence to the world in general, he will also be the best qualifi- ed to live happily without it. Friendship is a blessing, which like many others in this world, falls to the lot of few. It depends so much on constitution, on accident, on a concurrence of circumstances which so rarelv meet, and which no one can command, that by fin- the .greater part of mankind pass through the world, and • 1 Cor. xiii. 236 SERMON XVIII. pass through it very comfortably too, without ever hav- ing the good fortune to find that person whom they can ^vith strict propriety cali a friend. Had then the Gospel given ever so many precepts or directions on the subject of friendship ; to a few refined philosophic minds they might perhaps have been of some use. But it was not for these only, it was for the multitude also, for the people at large, that the Gospel was de- signed. And to these it must be no small satisfaction to find, that a connection which they often want the inclination, and oftener still the power, to form, is not enjoined, is not recommended, is not even mention- ed, in the Gospel, and that they may go to heaven extremely well without it. A faithful friend is indeed, as the son of Sirach no less justly than elegantly ex- presses it, the medicine of life'-. And happy they are %vho find it. But to those who do not, or by any fatal accident are deprived of it, Christianity has other med- icines, other consolations in store. It has pleasures to bestow, which will amply countervail those of the sin- cerest and firmest friendship. It gives that peace of mind, which nothing in this Vvorld, not even friendship itself can give. It secures to us the favor of that Be- ing, who is able to be our friend indeed. Our earthly friends may deceive, may desert us, m.ay be separated from us, may be converted into our bitterest enemies. But our heavenl}^ friend has declai'ed (and he is one that may be trusted) that if we adhere faithfully to him, he will never leave us nor forsake usf . It is, in short, in every man's pov.er to be, if he pleases, though not precisely in the same sense that St. John was, yet in a very important sense, the friend of Christ. We have our Saviour's own word for it. " Ye are my *' friends," says he to his disciples, " If ye do vvhat- *' soever I command you;]:." Nay, he has assured us that he vvill consider e\ery real Christian as united to him by still closer ties. This assurance is given us in one of those noble strains of divine eloquence which are so common in the sacred writings. Our * Eccles. xi. 16. X ^'^'^- '^"i- ^' 4 J°^"^ ^^'' ■^^'* SERMON XVIII. 237 Lord being- tolcl tliat his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him, he gives a turn to this httle incident, perfectly new, and inexpressibly- tender and affectionate. " Who is my modicr ?" says he, " and who are my brethren ? And he stretched *' forth his hand towards his disciples, and snid, Behold *' my mother, and my brethren. For whosoever shall *' do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the " same is my brother, and sister, and mother*." • Matth. xii. 46—50. ffga»qf»^Bag»a>g— »7WBi^r— hen he found himself at length obliged to explain to them the hardships they were to undergo for his sake, the conclusion was, " In *' the world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good " cheer; I have overcome the world*." The same spirit diffused itself to the apostles, evan- gelists, and disciples, who maintained, throughout the whole course of their ministry, a certain vigor and vi- vacity of mind, which no calamity could depress. Their writings are full of exhortations " to rejoice " evermore ; to show mercy with cheerfulness ; to " count it all joy, even when we fill into temptation." The language of the text, the language of the whole Gospel, is, " Rejoice in the Lord ahvay : and again I " say. Rejoice." Hence it is plain, that a constant cheerfulness is the distinguishing character of the Christian religion : that it animated both the precepts and the conduct of those who taught it, and was con- sidered by them as a necessary concomitant in the per- formance of every part of our duty. But the Gospel does not stop here. It not only commands us to be cheerful ; this it might very easily do ; but what is of still more importance, it assists us^ in becoming so ; it affords the best and most effectual helps toward obtaining that happy and satisfied temper, that constant serenity and composure of mind, with- out which ail the v/ealth and grandeur of the world are insipid and worthless things. I. The first assistance of this kind it gives us is, that constant and enlivening employment which it finds for our thoughts. The human mind, we all know, is rest- less and active ; and if not otherwise engaged, wilt turn its activity inward, will prey upon and devour it- self, and become the destroyer of its own happiness, A very large proportion of the evils which press the heaviest upon us, are purely imaginary, are the creation of our own hands, and arise from no other cause thaii^ * John xvi. irS. SERMON XIX. 243 the having nothing else to do, l^ut to sit clown and make ourselves as miserabl, as u e possil^ly can. One great means, therefore, of promoting cheerfulness is, to keep our thoughts constantly and usefully employed. The pursuit of any important and worthy object is in itself enlivening. Every advance we make in it, is a new accession of pleasure ; we feel ourselves animated with a grraving de'igl't ; and go on with increasing ar- dor and alacrity to the attainment of the end we have in view. A succession of worldly pleasures and oc- cupations may, for a time, engage our attention ; but that delusion is soon over, and they leave a void behind which nothing can fill up, but those great and noble purposes of action which the Gospel presents to our minds : the conquest of our passions ; the improve- ment of our nature ; the exaltation of our affections ; the diffasion of happiness to every human being within our reach ; the attainment of God's flivor and protec- tion here, and of everlasting glory and happiness here- after. These are objects worthy of a rational and im- mortal being ; these wilt find ample employment for all the fliculties and powers of his mind ; and the high- er his rank and abilities are, the more will his duties multiply upon him, and the sphere of his activity en- large itself. Whoever, in short, engages in earnest in the Christian warfare, whoever presses on with zeal and ardor towards the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, and " forgetting those " things that are behind, reaches forth to those that '* are before," will never find either his attention or his spirits droop. He will be continually animated with new prospects, elated with new acquisitions, re- warded with new triumphs, and will know nothing of that langour and flatness, that gloom and melancholy, which are so apt to seize upon unoccupied minds. II. Whoever suffers himself to be brought under the dominion of any malignant passion, envy, malice, hatred jealousy, or revenge, must from that moment, bid adieu to peace and cheerfulness. These odious tyrants arc all most fatal enemies to our repose. They thro\v the 244 SERMON XIX. mind into a perpetual ferment and agitation ; they ha- rass it with a succession of malevolent sentiments and vindictive designs ; they keep it in a constant fever of resentment, and allow it no rest. The man possessed by these wicked spirits " sleeps not, except he has *' done mischief : his sleep is taken away, unless he ** cause some to fall*^." Everyone must see, that a state of mind like this must exclude all enjoyment of life ; must produce a sullen gloominess of disposition, which no ray of cheerfulness can penetrate or enliven. When, therefore, Christianity exhorts us to put away "all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, evil-speak- ing, and malice," it prescribes one most effectual re- medy against disquietude and dejection of mind. And when it further recommends, in the room of these pas- sions, to substitute sentiments of mercy, kindness, meekness, gentleness, compassion, brotherly affection, charity ; when it commands us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and pour oil into the wounds of the afflicted and distressed, it points out to us the most effectual means, not only to make others happy, but ourselves also. In fact, true Christian charity, in all its extent, is a never-failing fund of pleasure to the soul. The joy resulting from the diffusion of blessings to all around us, is the purest and sublimest that can enter the hu- man mind, and can be conceived only by those who have experienced it. Next to the consolations of di- vine grace, it is the most sovereign balm to the mise- ries of life, both in him who is the object of it, and in him who exercises it ; and it will not only soothe and tranquillize a troubled spirit, but inspire a constant flow of good humor, content, and gaiety of heart. III. Another source of cheerfulness to be found in the Gospel is, that most comfortable doctrine of a par- ticular Providence, which is there set forth in the clear- est and most unequivocal terms. It is impossible for any thinking man, who supposes that the world, and all its affairs, are under no other direction than that of * Proverbs iv. 16. SERMON XIX. 245 chance and fortune, to enjoy any true and permanent tranquillity of mind. There is such a variety of mi- series to which human nature is continually exposed, and which no human prudence can cither foresee or avert, that, \\illiout a firm confidence in some power- ful superintendent, who is both able and willing to pro- tect us, we must live under perpetual apprehensions for ourselves and those who are most dear to us. From tliis most painful solicitude (which was in fact, a source of endless uneasiness to the Pagan world) the Gospel eficctually relieves us. It informs us, that "we are un- der the constant guardianship of an Almighty Friend and Protector, who sees the very minutest events, and governs the most casual ; who, in the immense range of creation, does not overlook the least or meanest of his creatures ; who commands us, " to take no thought " for the morrow," but to cast all our care upon him, for this most substantial and satisfactory reason, " be- " cause he careth for us;" \; ho has declared, that, " if we seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, " all those things (that are really necessary) shidl be " added to us ;" and that, in the great variety and seemingly discordant mixture of human events, " he *' v.ill make every thing work togedier (ultimately) " for good to them that love him*." Here, now, is a firm and adequate foundation for enjoyment of the present moment, and indifference about the next. Under the persuasion that no disaster can reach us without his permission, who watches over us with an eye that never slumbers, and a tenderness which no- thing but guilt can wididraw from us, we can face those unknown terrors from w hich Pagan Philosophy turned away dismayed ; can look forward, unmoved, into futurity, and contemplate all the possible contin- gencies that may beful us, with intrepidity and uncon- cern ; with the cheerfulness of a mind at perfect ease, reposing itself in full confidence and security on the great Disposer of all human events. • Mat'.h, vi. 35. 1 Pet. v. 7. Rom. viii. 28. 246 SERMON XIX. IV. That future state of existence, of which Chris- tianity first gave us a clear and distinct view, affords a prospect to us that cannot well fail to cheer and enliven our hearts, and even bear us up under the heaviest pressures of affliction. Without this support, there are, it must be owned, calamities sufficient to break the highest spirits, and to subdue the firmest minds. — When the good and virtuous man is unjustly accused and inhumanly traduced ; when enemies oppress and friends desert him ; when poverty and distress come upon him like an armed man ; vihen his favorite child, or his beloved companion, is snatched from him by death ; when he is racked with incessant pain, or pining away widi incurable disease ; when lie knows, moreover, that he can have no rest but in the grave, and supposes that this rest is the absolute extinction of his being ; no wonder that he sinks into melancholy and despair. But let the divine light of immortality break in upon him, and the gloom that surrounds him clears up. Let this day-star arise before him, and it will shed a brightness over the whole scene of his ex- istence, which will make every thing look gay and cheerful around him. He is no longer the same being he was before. A new set of ideas and sentiments, of hopes and expectations, spring up in his mind, and re- present every thing in a point of view totally different from that in which they before appeared to liim. What he had been accustomed to consider as insupportable misfortunes, he now sees to be most salutary clias. tisements. This world is no longer his home. It is a scene of discipli-ie, a school of virtue, a place of education, intended to fit him for appearing well in a far more illustrious station. Under this conviction he goes on with alacrity and steadiness in the patlis of duty, neither discouraged by difficulties, nor depressed by misfortunes. He is a citizen of a heavenly countrj', towards which he is travelling : his accommodations on the road are sometimes, it must be owned, wretch- ed enough ; but they are only temporary inconvenicn- cies ; they are trivial disquietudes, which are below SERMON XIX. 247 his notice ; for at home he knows every thing ^^ill be to his mind. The blessings which there await him, and on which his heart is fixed, inspire him with an ardor and alacrity that carry him tinough every obsta- cle. Even under the most calamitous circumstances, he supports himself with this reflection, more pregnant V ith good sense and solid comfort, than all the vast volumes of ancient Philosophy or modern Infidelity, that " these light afflictions, w hich are but for a mo- *' ment, shall work for him (if he bears them with *' Christian patience) a far more exceeding and eternal *' weight of glory-." V. There remains still another ground of joy pe- culiar to the Gospel ; and that is, the consolation and assistance of the Holy Ghost. It is a circumstance of wonderful beauty and utility in the Christian dispensa- tion, that one of those three divine persons, who each bore their share in the great work of our redemption, condescends to contribute also to our present tran- quillity : to abide with us here constantly upon earth ; to assume the endearing name, and perform the truly benevolent office, of a Co.mporter. Under this character and title, the Holy Spirit was promised to tlic apostles by our Savour, in his last affecting address to them, in order to alleviate their grief foi' his approach- ing departure. This promise was most punctually arid amply fulfilled on the day of Pentecost ; and from that time \\e see the influence of this heavenly Paraclete most eminently displayed in that astonishing and al- most instantaneous turn which it gave to the sentiments, the language, and the conduct of the apostles. From being timorous, dejected, and perplexed, shocked at the ignominious end of their Lord, afraid to appear in public, dubious, hesitating, and indecisive ; on a sudden they become courageous, undaunted, cheerful. 1'hey openly aA ow, and boldly preach, that once oflfen- sive doctrine of a crucified Saviour. They profess themselves his disciples : they call upon all men to be- lic\ e in him ; and set before them, with ;:!! the powers • 2 Cor. It. 17. 248 SERMON XIX. of the most masculine eloquence, the evidences and the doctrines of the Christian faitli. No complaints from that time ; no dejection of spirits ; no discontent. Though they were persecuted, afflicted, tormented, yet it was all joy, and triumph, and exultation of heart. *' We are troubled," says St. Paul, " on every side, *' yet not distressed ; W'eare perplexed, but not in des- *' pair ; as dying, and behold we live ; as chastened, *' but not killed ; as sorrowful, yet alvvay rejoicing; *' as poor, yet making many rich ; as having nothing, *' and yet possessing all things ; and though our out- *' ward man perish, yet our inward man is renewed day *' by day*." Even St. Peter himself, he who had the weakness to deny his blessed Master in the extremity of his distress ; even he, after the descent of the Holy Ghost, was the very first to rise up in his defence, and in a long and spirited speech to vindicate his pre- tensions, and assert the truth of his doctrines. Tlie same alacrity and jo}'fulness spread itself to all the converts. " For they that believed were together, and *' had all things common, and sold their possessions *' and goods, and parted them to ail men, as every man *' had need ; and continuing daily with one accord in *' the temple, did eat their meat with gladness and *' singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor " with all the peoplef-" Such were the cheerful scenes which the first dawn of the Gospel, and the first appearance of the com- forter, present to us : and although these were indeed, preturnatural effects, arising from such extraordinary eifusions of the Spirit, as were peculiar to those times, and not to be expected in our own ; yet in some de- gree, his sacred influence will still remain ; and to every one that is worthy of his consolations, we will still be a comforter. We are assured by the best au- thority, " that he will abide with us for ever ; that he *' will dwell with us ; that he will be with us ahvays to " the end of the \vorld ; that the fruit of the Spirit is ** love, joy, peace ; that the kingdom of God is right- • 2 Cor. iy. IS. ' f Acts W. 46, 47. SERMON XIX. 249 " eolisncss, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost*.'* If, therefore, we constantly and devoutly pray for his di- vine assistance ; if we do not grieve him by any sinful thoughts and actions ; if we endeavor, by the most imblemished purity of mind and sanctity of life, to render ourselves fit temples for him to inhabit ; we may depend upon it that he will be our guide and com- panion, our comfort and support ; will, in temptation, give us fortitude, in affliction patience, in prosperity thankfulness, in poverty content ; will, in every condi- tion and circumstance of life, impart to us that peace OF God, that heartfelt joy and satisfaction, which pass- es all understanding and all description. Before I conclude, I must beg your attention to one short, but, as I conceive, important observation, re- sulting from the foregoing discourse. We of this kingdom have been repeatedly stigma- tized by the other nations of Europe as a melancholy, dejected, gloomy people. The charge, I fear, is up- on the whole but too well founded ; and the proofs too visible, and sometimes too dreadful, to be evaded or denied. It behoves us therefore, surely, to inquire u little into the true causes of this national malady ; and to consider, whether one of these causes may not be a contemptuous disregard, or, at least, a cold indiffer- ence for that most pure, and holy, and enlivening Re- ligion, which contains the only true remedy for our disease. Instead of this, we have too commonly re- course to a very different mode of relief, to those per- nicious cordials of unbounded pleasure and endless dissipation, which though like other cordials, they may raise our spirits for the moment, yet afterwards sink and depress them beyond recovery, and leave the un- happy patient infinitely more in distress and danger than they found him. If this be the case we know what we have to do. We must fly to a totally oppo- site regimen ; to that purity of mind, that sanctity of . manners, that self-government, that moral discipline, that modesty of desire, that discreet and temperate en- * John xiv. 16 ; Rom. viiJ. 9 ; Matth. xxviii. 20 ; Gal. Y. 22 ; Rom. xiv. 17. H h ^SO SERMON XIX. joyment of the world, that exaUed piety, that active benevolence, that trust in Providence, that cxhilirating hope of immortality, that reliance on the merits of our Redeemer, which the doctrines and the precepts of the Gospel so powerfully impress upon our souls, and which, as we have seen, are the best and most ef- fectual preservatives against all depression of spirits. It is here, in short, if any where, true cheerfulness is to be found. To those, indeed, who have been long dissolved in luxury and gaiety, that moderation in all things which Christianity prescribes, may, at first, ap- pear a harsh and painful restraint ; but a little time, and a little perseverance, will render it as delightful as it is confessedly salutary. Be prevailed on then, for once, to give it a fair trial ; and accept, w^ith all thankfulness, that most gracious invitation of our blessed Redeemer, *' Come unto m.e all ye that labor and are heavy la- " den, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon *' you, and learn of me, and ye shall find rest untoyouF " souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burthen is *' light*." * Matth. xi, 28—30. SERMON XX. 1 Cor. i. 20. JtTierc is the ivise ? vjhere is the scribe ? where is the dis/mter of t/ds world ? Hath 7iot God made foolish the ivisdom of this nvorld ? THE subject on which St. Paul is speaking in this chapter, and which drew from him the exclama- tion in the text, is the doctrine of the Cross : that is, the atonement made for the sins of mankind by the crucifixion of our blessed Lord. This is a topic on which he always speaks with an air of peculiar triumph and exultation : and in this chapter more especially, he enlarges upon it with unusual strength of argument and eloquence. He was not ignorant that this doc- trine ga\'e the utmost offence both to the Jew and to the Greek : but notwithstanding this, he asserts, " that " it was the power of God unto salvation'*." He was no stranger to the numberless objections made to it by the profound reasoners and the fashionable philoso- phers of the age, who are here distinguished by the appellation of the inise, the scribe^ the disputer of this ivorld ; but their wisdom, their learning, their skill in disputation, had no weight with him. He considered their idle cavils and subtilties as utterly unworthy of his notice. He affirmed, that their boasted science and erudition never had been, never could be, of the least use to mankind, in leading them to the knowledge and practice of true Religion ; " and that the world by * Romans i. 16. 252 SERMON XX. *' wisdom," fhy such wisdom as they possessed) *' knew not God :" whereas, what they called the fool- ishness of preaching* ;" the foolishness of preaching the great doctrine of Redemption, had already enligh- tened the mkids, and reformed the hearts of a prodi- gious number of people, and thus made " foolish the *' wisdom of this world ;" had shewn the weakness and impotence of worldly wisdom, when compared with the rapid and astonishing effects produced by the so much derided doctrine of Redemption. Trans- ported with these ideas, the apostle breaks out into the sublime apostrophe of the text : *' Where is the *•'• scribe ? where is the wise ? where is the disputer *' of this world ? Hath not God made foolish the wis- *' dom of this world ?" Since the time of this great apostle, his argument, drawn from the inefficacy of Rabinical learning and Gentile philosophy, compared with the consequences of the Christian revelation, has acquired additional force by the propagation of the latter, and the reformation wrought by it through a large part of the world, and the light diffused by it into almost every other part ; whilst the wise and the disputers of this world have never been able to work any considerable change in the dispositions and manners of a single cit}^, or even a single village, throughout tlie earth. Yet, notwith- standing this apparent superiority, there are not want- ing persons who are full of objections to the Gospel of Christ ; and especially to that capital and fundamental article of it of which we have been speaking, the doc- tr'me of atonement by the death of Christ. If (say these disputers) it was God's purpose to res- cue mankind from the dominion and the punishment of sin, what need was there of so many strange expedi- ents, and such a long course of laborious and uncouth arrangements, for the accomplishment of this design ? What necessity was there, that no less a person than the Son of God himself should be sent from heaven to this lower world to take upon him our flesh ; that his very • 1 Cor. i. [21. SERMON XX. 253 birth should be a contradiction to the common course of nature ; that he should be allied to mean and indi- gent parents, live for many years an obscure life, then go about preaching a new Religion, full indeed of ex- cellent precepts, but abounding also with mysterious, and unintelligible, and seemingly useless doctrines ; that he should go through a long series of indignities and sufferings, which he might easily have avoided ; should at length submit to a most painful and igno- minious death ; should afterwards rise from the grave, ascend into heaven, there sit down at the right hand of God, and then send another divine person, called the Holy Ghost, to finish what he had left undone ? What necessity, it is asked, could there possibly be for such a complicated piece of mechanism as this ; for such a multiplicity of instruments, and such a va- riety of contrivances, as are here set in motion, to effect one single, and, to all appearance, very easy purpose, the pardon of a few wretched criminals ? Why could not God have done this at once, by one decisive and gracious exertion of mercy and of power ; by pub- lishing, for instance, an act of general indemnity and oblivion for past offences, on condition of sincere re- pentance and amendment of life ? Is not this a plain, simple, and natural manner of proceeding, and far more worthy of the wisdom and the majesty of the Supreme Being, than that intricate, operose, and circuitous kind of process in the work of our Redemption, which the Gospel ascribes to him ? In answer to all these specious cavils, it might be sufficient to say, " Who art thou, O man, that re- *' pliest against God ?" Shall the sinner that is saved, Bay to him that redeemed him. Why hast thou re- deemed me thus ? " As well might the thing formed, *' say to him that formed it, W hy hast thou made me " thus* ?" Objections of such a nature, and from such a quarter, prove nothing more, than that man is as presumptuous as he is ignorant and weak. That the method which God made use of to redeem man by the death of Christ, is very different from that • Rom. xix. 20. 254 SERMON XX. which a modern Philosopher would have made use of, may be very safely admitted, without in the least im- peachint^ either the propriety or the wisdom of that method. That God's proceedings are always infinite- ly wise, is most ceartain ; but he does not conduct himself on the principles of mere human wisdom. *' His ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as *' our thoughts." It is not always in man to perceive the fitness of those means which God makes use of to obtain his ends ; though there can be no doubt but they are the fittest that could have been imagined. Who could have supposed, that the way to exalt Jo- seph to the highest pinnacle of worldly grandeur and prosperity, was to sell him as a slave to a company of travelling Ishmaelites* ? What apparent probability was there, that Goliah, the great champion of the Philistines, should fall by the hand of a stripling, un- used to arms, and furnished only with a stone and a sling ? How indignant v/as the mighty Syrian, Naa- man, when he was told that, in order to be cured of his leprosy, he must wash himself seven times in Jordan ? He expected something very different from this. " Behold, 1 thought," says he, " that the *' Man of God will surely come out to me, and stand *' and call on the name of the Lord his God, and *' strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper. " Are not Abana and Pharphar, rivers of Damascus, *' better than all the waters of Israel ? May I not wash "'^ in them, and be cleanf?" So reasoned this wise man ; and so would any other wise man of modern times have reasoned on this occasion. But it proved in this, as it will in every other instance, " thefoolish- '* ness of God was wiser than men ; and the weakness "" of God was stronger than men J." He washed in Jor- dan, and was clean. * In this, and perhaps one or tv/o other places, a few remarks from other authors liave, I believe, (in tlie course of my reading many years ago) in- sensibly mingled themselves with my own. But who those authors were I cannot at tliis distance of time distinctly recollect. t 2 Kings V. 11. t 1 Cor. i. 25. SERMON XX. 253 Nay, even in the ordinary course of God's provi- dence, what a number of things do wc see conducted in a manner totally different from what one should nat- urally expect r To instance only in that daily bread, which is the chief support of life. How comes it to pass, may the disputers of this world say, that so much trouble and pains are requisite to produce so es- sential an article for our sustenance as this ? What oc- casion can there be, that it should go through so te- dious a process, such a long train of pre])aratory ope- rations, before it becomes fit for use ? How strange does it seem, that the grain, which is to be our food, should first of all be buried in the ground ; there re- main for some time invisible and useless, and apparent- ly dead* ; then spring forth with fresh life, and in a new form ; arrive by slow degrees, to a state of ma- turity, and afterwards employ a prodigious number of hands ; undergo a great variety of changes, and assume many different appearances, before it can be manufac- tured into that solid substance, which affords so much strength and nourishment to man ? Might not Provi- dence have obtained the same end by much more ob- Tious and expeditious means ? Might not our daily bread be rained down upon us at once from heaven, like the manna of the Israelites ; or be made to vegetate on trees, as is the case in some parts of the southern hemisphere, where nature has left no other trouble to man but to gather his bread and eat it, whilst we are forced to labor after it through innumerable difficulties and delays ? These questions are just as modest and as proper as those w^e are apt to ask concerning the mode of our Redemption. And as we find that Providence has • Apparently dead. The sacred writers say, that the grain actually dies+ : and Voltaire, in his ^hiestiom- snr /' EncyclopedJe\ triumphs not a little in this supposed error. But a much better physiologist than Mr. Voltaire ( I mean Mr. Bonet, of Geneva) affirms, that the position may be justified as philo- sophically true. The exterior integument of the grain docs most certainly coiTupt and die. It is the germ only, or principle of vegetation, -which re- mains and lives. " L'Envcloppe du grain perit, & de sou " interiuer sort une plante bien differente de cettc enveloppe." Essin Analytique, &c. par Mr. Bonet, &, Bibliotbeque des Sciences, im. Prem. part. p. 145. t X Cor. XV- 36. + Article Agriculture. 256 SERMON XX. not thought fit to humor our prejudices, and conforni to our ideas, in the one case, why should we expect it in the other ? We may, in both cases, with equal truth and justice, say, " Where is the wise ? where is the *' scribe ? where is the disputer of this world ? Hath " not God made foolish the wisdom of this world* :'* But let us descend a little more to particulars. We are told, that to save mankind from the punish- ment due to their sinSj the promulgation of a free par- don, on the part of God, would have been fully suf- ficient. Let us suppose then for a moment, that this had ac- tually been the case. Let us suppose, that the Son of God, or some other divine messenger, had been sent on earth merely to tell mankind, that they need be un- der no apprehensions about the consequences of their sins, for that they would all be freely forgiven : and that, provided they behaved better for the future, they would be received into the favor of God, and re- warded with everlasting life. What do you think must have been the consequence of such a general un- qualified act of grace and indemnity as this ? Would it not have given the world reason to imagine, that God was regardless of the conduct of his creatures, and that there was little or no danger in transgressing his laws ? Would not this easiness of disposition, this facility in pardoning, have given men encouragement to continue in their sins ; or, at least, to have returned in a short time to their favorite and long-indulged habits, in a certain expectation of meeting with the same gentle treatment which they had already experienced ? And does not every one see, that this would have quickly extinguished all the little remains of virtue that were left in the world ? There was, indeed, I allow, some ground to hope, that a God of infinite mercy and goodness would find out sofnc means of saving a guilty world from destruction. But no man of common sense could imagine, that he would do this in such a manner as should be inconsistent with his other attributes ; * 1 Coi-inth. i. 20. SERMON XX. 257 those attributes, which are as essential to his nature as his goodness and his mercy ; 1 mean, his justice, his wisdom, his authority, as the moral governor of the universe. All these must have been sh«ken to their very foundation, had he pardoned mankind M'ithout some satisfaction made to him for their disobedience ; without some mark of his abhorrence stampt upon guilt ; without some public exercise of his coercive power, which might prevent the sinner from flattering himself, that he might go on transo;ressing with im- punity, and might safely presume on the mercy of Godj even in prejudice to the great ends of his moral go- vernment. But repentance, you say, would of itself have answer- ed all diese purposes ; would have been a sufiicient atonement for past offences, a sufiicient satisfaction to God's justice, and a sufficient security to the sinner against the future effects of God's displeasure. Admitting all this for a moment to be true, there is still another question of some importance to be asked and answered, and which yet is commonly quite left out of the account. What reason have you to think, that had Christ done nothing more than offered to the Heathen world a free pardon of their sins, on condi- tion of repentance, they would have accepted and per- formed that condition ; in other words, that, without some signal indication of God's abhorrence of sin, to strike their imagination, to affect their hearts, and rouse their consciences to a just sense of their guilt, they would ever have repented at all ? Consider only for a moment what the condition of mankind was, when our Lord made his appearance on earth. Their corruption and profligacy had grown to so enormous an height, and ran out into such a variety of horrible vices, as even in these degenerate days would appear shocking and portentous. They were, as St. Paul assures us in a letter addressed to those very Romans of whom he is speaking, " they Avere filled " with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, *' covetousness, maliciousness : full of envy, murder, li 258 SERMON XX. " debate, deceit, malignity ; whisperers, backbiters, *' haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors *' of evil things, disobedient to parents, without un- *' derstanding, covenant breakers, without natural af- *' fection, implacable, unmerciful*." What now do you think of such a race of monsters as these ? Do you think it possible, that mere exhort- ation alone, or even the most awful denunciations of punishment, would ever have brought such miscreants as these to real repentance and vital reformation ? Wiiat little probability there was of this, you will judge from what St. Paul further tells you in the same epistle that they not only did these things themselves, but took " pleasure in those that did themf." Iliey were delighted to see their friends, their neighbors, and even their own children, grow every day more profligate around them. " They became vain in their imagina- *' lions, and their foolish heart was darkenedj." " They were alienated from the life of God, through *' the ignorance that was in them, because of the blind- " ness of their heart ; they were past feelings and "[rave themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work " all uncleanness with greedinessll." This shows, that the num!:)er and the grossness of their crimes had effaced all their ideas of guilt, and " had seared their *' consciences with a hot iron§." Add to this, that their philosophers and their priests, who ought to have restrained their vices, did themselves, by their own example, encourage them in some of their worst. Many parts even of their religious worship, instead of purifying and reforming, tended to corrupt and debase their hearts with the grossest sensualities ; and the very gods whom they adored were represented as guilty of crimes too shocking to be s^^cified, but which all who sor.ght their fovor would certainly take care to imitate.^ You see then what little prospect there was, that men under such circumstances should ever be prevailed on, • Rom. i. 29, 30, 31. + Rom. i. 32. | Rom. i. 21. II Ei)h. iv. 18, 19. § 1 Tim. iv. 2. \ Ego homuncio liCC non facerem ? See the whole passage. Terent. Eiiu. iii. V. 43. SERMON XX. 259 by a mere preacher of righteousness (even thou^^h sent from the rcahris, and cnrlued with the eloquence, of heaven) to repent and reform. Before they could do either, they must be sensible that they were acting wrong. But they, on the contrary, thought themselves right. They not only acted wickedh', but acted so on ]:)rinciple. Their moral sense was inverted, " The *' light that was in them was become darkness." They had no check within to stop their mad career of ^\ ick- cdness ; and every thing without, every thing that ought to have taught them a better lesson, their phi- losophers, their priests, their religion, their v. orship, their gods themselves, all contributed to confirm and strengthen them in their corrupt practices, and to bar up every avenue to reformation. It is therefore evident, that, without some awake- ning call, some striking and astonishing, and extraor- dinary event, (like that of the crucifixion of Christ) to affect the hearts and alarm the fears of the ancient Pagans, and to impress them with a strong sense of God's extreme indignation against sin, it was morally impossible they could ever have been brought to a se- rious, effectual, and permanent amendment of heart and life*". It is in vain, then, to talk of the great efScacv of repentance in averting the anger of the Almight}', and atoning for past offences. You ought first to settle the previous question, whether, if this had been all the expiation required, there would have been any repent- ing sinners in the world to have tried the experi- ment ? But to grant all this power of expi.uion to repent- ance, is grimting a great deal more than truth will war- rant. * I: is a singular circumstance, which I have from unquestionable author, ity, and which tends very iiuicli to show tl'.e powerful influence of a cruci- fied Redeemer, that in almost every ])art of the world, from Greenland to the West India islands, those Ileatliens, that have been proselyted to Chris- tianity, were principally and most elfectually wrou;^ht upon by the history of our Saviour's sullerings, as recorded in the Gospel. VVhen these were for- cibly staged, and repeatedly impressed on their minds, they scarce ever failcJ to produce in them both a lively faith and a virtuous life. " ,jg60 SERMON XX. For from whence do you learn, that repentance alone will obliterate the stains of past guilt ; will undo every- thing you have done amiss ; will reinstate you in the favor of God ; will make ample satisfaction to his in- sulted justice ; and secure respect and obedience to his authority, as the moral governor of the world ? Do the Scriptures teach you this ? No. They plain- ly tell you, that " without the shedding of blood, there *' is no remission of sins*." But, perhaps, you col- lect it from the very nature of the thing itself. Con- sider then W'hat repentance is. It is nothing more than sorrow for what we have done amiss, and a resolution not to do it again. But can this annihilate what is past ? Most assu- redly it has no such power. Our former transgressions still remain uncancelled. They are recorded in the books of heaven ; and it is not our future good deeds alone that can wipe them out. They can only an- swer for themselves (if they can do that) : they have no superabundant or retrospective merit to spare, as a cover to past offences. We may as well affirm, says a learned divine, ■' that our former obedience atones for "•' our present sins, as that our present obedience makes *' amends for antecedent transgressions." If you think this doctrine harsh and unnatural, see whether your own daily experience, whether the ordi- nary course of human affairs, w'ill teach you a different lesson. Look around you, and observe what is passing eve- ry moment before your eyes. You see men frequently destroying by sensuality, by intemperance, by every act of profligacy, their health, their fortune, their cha- racter, their happiness here and hereafter. You see them, perhaps, afterwards most heartily sorry for what they have done ; sincerely repenting of their wicked- ness ; resolving for the fiUure to lead a virtuous and religious life, and perliaps fulfilling that resolution. But does this always restore them to their health, their fortune, or their good fame ? No : they are often ^onc * Kcb, IK. 23, SERMON XX. 261 for ever, lost beyond redemption, notwithstanding their utmost efforts to recover them. The wretch that has committed a murder, may be struck with the deepest remorse and horror for his crime, and may most seri- ously determine to make every amends for it in his power. Bu». does this save him from the hand of jus- tice, from die punishment denounced against his of- fence by huv ? We know that it does not. Unless some powerful mediator or friend interpose to obtain his pardon, he will fall by the hand of the executioner. And in a multitude of other instances, nothing but the generous kindness of our friends, and their readiness to encounter great inconvenience, expense, trouble, and misery, for our sakes, can avert the fatal conse- quences which our indiscretions, follies, and vices would, in spite of the sincerest repentance and re- morse, infallibly bring upon us*. Since then, notwith- standing the mercy and the goodness of God, repentance does not prevent the natural penal consequences of our crimes in this world, what reason is there to think, that it will avert the vengeance due to them in the next, which is under the government of the same Almighty Being ? That it is incapable of producing this effect, will ap- pear further from the consideration, that the sincerest repentance and reformation must necessarily be in seme degree imperfect, mixed with failings, and subject to occasional relapses ; and therefore, instead of atoning for past transgressions, must themselves stand in need of indulgence and forgiveness. If repentance placed us in a state of moral perfection and unsinning obedi- ence, there might be some pretence, perhaps, for ascri- • It is remarkable, that our Lord himself ccrr,pa«es his interposition to save us from ruin to the generous interference of a man to rescue his friend from destruction. "Greater love hath no man ; ban this, that a n'an lay " down his life for his friends^ ;'' ulUidirig, e\ ideifriy, to ihis instance of his love for us. This, perhaps, might euggest the ide;i of that ncble prin- ciple of analogy, by which Bishop Bui ler hr.s so admirably illustraied, and so unanswerably defended the great Scripti:;^! doctrine cf cnr Rcdemptirrn, by Christ interfering as a friend in t^iir behalf^ and voluniaiily iubbtituliiij jiimself for us on the cross. t John XV. 13. 262 SERMON XX. bing to It a considerable degree of expiatory virtue. But let the truest and devoutest penitent look impar- tially into his own heart, and then let him fairly say, whether this is actually the case. Has he so complete- ly washed his hands in innoccncy, and purified his soul irom sin, that not a single evil propensity remains within him ? Has he entirely subdued every inveterate habit, every inor-dinatc passion, every sin that did most easily beset him ? Is it all calmness, composure, peace and order within ? Is all rancor and malice laid asleep in his breast ? Can he forgive the grossest insults, the crudest calumnies, and the most unprovoked inju- ries ? Do his thoughts never \vander beyond the limits of his duty, nor his eye delight to dwell on improper objects ? Are his affections detached from this world, and fixed entirely on things above ? Does his heart glow with unbounded love towards his neighbor, and is it touched with the hallowed flame of piety and devotion towards his Maker ? "When he can truly say, that this is a genuine picture of his soul, he may then, if he thinks fit, reject a crucified Redeemer. But till then, he will do well not to lean too confident- ly on repentance as his ojily stay. If, then, neither Scripture nor experience teach us, that repentance alone will avilfor our pardon Vv'ith God, does the light of nature assure us that it will ? To know what are the genuine dictates of nature, you must not look for them in a land enlightened by Rev- elation ; you must go back to those ages and those countries, where nature was. indeed, the only guide that men had to direct their ways. And v/hat was then their opinion of the efiicacy of repentance ? Did the ancient Pagans entertain such high notions of it, as some theologians, in the present times, seem to have taken up ? By no means ; we scarce ever hear tbem talking of repentance. When they had olTended their gods, they thought of nothing but oblations, expiations, lustrations, and animal sacrifices. These were the ex- pedients to which they always had recourse to regain the forfeited favor of their deities. This universal SERMON XX. 265 practice of shedding blood to obtain the pardon of guilt, most clearly shows what the common apprehensions of mankinil were on this subject, when under the sole direction of their own understanding : it shows, they thought that something else was necessary, besides their own repentance and reformation, to appease the anger of their gods. They drought that, after all they could do for thcmsebes, something mu5t be done or sufllred by some other being, before they could be restored to the condition they would have been in if they had never forfeited their innocence. Nay, some of the greatest, and wisest, and best among them de- clared, in express terms, " that there was wanting *' some iinhersal method of dxlfccring men* s seids which " no sect of Philosophy had ever yet found out"'^-." This unhersal method of delhering men's sords^ (as it is here most properly and most emphatically called) was at length made known to mankind by the Christian Rev- elation which we have been here considering. Our bles- sed Lord was himself the great, the all-atoning Victim, oiFered up for the whole world upon the cross. " He *' was wounded for our transgressions, and on him the *' Lord hath laid the iniquity of us allf." *' He bore our " sins in his own body on the tree, that we being dead to *' sin should live unto righteousness^." He was, in short, the very Paschal Lamb, w hich \\'as slain for us from the foundation of the world. He was the great uni- versal Sacrifice to \a hich all the prophets, from the fall of Adam to the birth of Christ, uniformly directed their viev/s and their predictions and of m hich all the sacrifices under the Jewish law were only types and emblems. They w^ere the shadow : Christ was the substance. And, as the writer to tlie Hebrews justly observes, *' if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the " ashes of an heifer, sprinkling the unclean, sancti- " lied to the purifying of the flesh ;" (that is, released the oftender from legal uncleanness and temporal pu- nishment) " how much more shall the blood of Christ, * Porphyry, as quoted l>y Austin, de Chitate Dei. I. 10. c. 32. t Isaiah liii. 5, G, \ 1 Peter ii. 24. 264 SERMON XX. *' who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself *' without spot to God, purge your consciences from *' dead works, to serve the living God* ?" This is, in a few words, the sum and substance of the great mystery of our Redemption. That it is a mystery, a great and astonishing mystery, we readily acknowledge. But this was naturally to be expected in a work of such infinite difficulty, as that of render- ing the mercy of God, in pardoning mankind, consist- ent with the exercise of his justice, and the support of his authority, as the moral Governor of the world. Whatever could effect this, must necessarily be some- thing far beyond the comprehension of our limited understandings ; that is, must necessarily be mysteri- ous. And, therefore, this very circumstance, instead of shocking our reason and staggering our faith, ought 'to satisfy the one, and confirm the other. What remains further to be said on this interesting and important subject, I shall reserve for a separate discourse. * Heb. ix. 13,14. 'The Soc'mians say, that the expressions in Scripture, which seem to prove the death of Christ to be a real sacrifice for sin, are nothing more than figurative allusions to the animal sacrifices of the Mo- saical law. But it has been well observed, that the very reverse of this is the truth of the case. For these Mosaical sacrifices were themselves allu- sions to the great all-sufficient Sacrifice, which was to be made by our Sa- viour on the cross. SERMON XXI. 1 Cor. i. 20. iVIiere is the Tjise ? ivhere is the scribe ? lohere is the disfiuter of this world ? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ? FROM the train of reasoning pursued in the prece- ding discourse, it has, I trust, been made evident, that tliough repentance and reformation are without doubt indisputably necessary towards procuring the pardon of sin, fso necessary, that without them not all the sacrifices on earth, nor all the mercies of heaven^ can avail to save us) yet they are not of themsehes suf- ficient to wash away the stains of past guilt, to satisfy the justice of an offended God, and restore a wicked and rebellious Morld to his protection and favor. It appears, boUi from the nature of the things them- selves, from the clearest deductions of reason, from the ordinary course of human affairs in the present world, from the common apprehensions, and the uni- versal practice of mankind, before the appearance of Christ upon earth, and above ail, from the positive de- clarations of God himself, both in the Old and New Testament, that, besides the contrition of the sinner himself, something must be done or suffered by some other being on his account ; some sort of expiation must be made for him, and accepted, before he can be exonerated of guilt, and redeemed from punish- ment, and stand justified in the eyes of his oftcnded Maker. Kk 266 SERMON XXL This principle being established ; (and it appears to' me incontrovertible) who shall afterwards presume to say, that the particular kind of expiation, or, in other words, the particular mode of Redemption, which God actually fixed upon for the preservation of mankind, was not the best and fittest that could be devised ? If some victim, so?}7e propitiatory sacrifice, was plainly necessary for this purpose ; who shall undertake to affirm, that the very individual sacrifice appointed l^y God himself, was not the properest and most effectual to answer the end proposed ? If commutative punish- ment and vicarious suffering appear not only to have prevailed among all Heathen nations from the earliest ages, and to have been established among the Jews by the express appointment of God, but even at this hour to make a part of the ordinary dispensations of God's providence in the present world, (where we contmually see men rescued from ruin by the interposing kindness, the generous exertions, and the voluntary sufferings of others on their account) ; who shall say, that there was either cruelty or injustice, in appointing Christ to die, much less in his voluntary consent to die, *' for us men and for our salvation ?" If, in fine, the value of the victim oiTered was usually proportioned to the magnitude of the offence, and the number of the offenders ; why should it appear in the least incredible, that when the inhabitants of a whole world, (perhaps of many worlds and systems of worlds) and all their generations, from the very fiill of our first parents to the end of time, were to be cleansed from guilt, no- thing less than the blood of the Son of God himself, should be thought to possess sufficient purifying pow- ers to wash away stains of so deep a dye, and so vast extent ? It is evident, then, that all the . plausible, objections of "the wise, the scribe, the disputer of. this world,." against the Scripture doctrine of Redemption, founded on the nature of the sacrifice made by our Lord, on the dignity of his person, on the union of tlie divine na- ture with the man Christ Jesus, or anv other circum- SERMON XXI. 267 stances of that naturo, are utterly void of all founda- tion in truth, in reason, in experience, and in the ac- tual course of human aifairs in God's administration of the universe. We may,«therefore, safely dismiss them without further notice : and may assume it as an un- doubted truth, that though we ourselves could not, with our short-sighted faculties, discover the smallest traces of wisdom or propriety in the Redemption of the world by the death of Christ, yet that it is in fact the \visest that could be chosen ; that the difficulties at- tending it arise only from that imj)ehetrable darkness whicli surrounds the throne of the Almighty, and must necessarily rest on many of his works, both of nature and of grace ; and that it is, notwithstanding, as the Scripture most accurately and sublimely expresses it, *' the wisdom of God in a mystery*." Yet still, by contemplating this mystery attentively, we may, even with our limited understandings, discover some marks of divine w isdom ; some reasons, which might induce the Almighty to prefer this method of redeeming the world to any other ; reasons sufficient at least to show, that when the veil is wholly \vithdrawn, \^ hen v.e no longer " see through a glass darkly," but are admit- ted to contemplate " in open day" the whole plan and the entire system of our redemption, we shall have as much reason to reverence the depth of the counsels of the Almighty, as we confessedly have, even at present, with all our ignorance, and all the natural obscurity of the subject, to adore his goodness. Out of many of these marks of divine wisdom, in the mode of our Redemption, which might be produ- ced, I shall select only a kw of the most important. I. In the first place, it has often been, and cannot be too often, renicu-ked, that the atonement made on tlic cross for the sins of man, removed a difficulty, which " the wise, the scribe, the disputer of this ♦' world," with all their wisdom, ^vcre ne\er able to surmount. It reconciled a contradiction, which to eve- ry human understanding appeared insuix^rable. It re- • 1 Cor. ii. 7. ?68 SERMON XXI. conciled the mercy and the justice of God in his treat- ment of mankind. It gave salvation to a guilty world, without either inflicting on the offenders the punish- ment justly due to their offences, or giving counte- nance and encouragement to sin. By accepting the death of Christ instead of ours, "by laying on him " the iniquity of us all," God certainly gave us the most astonishing proof of his mercy : and yet, by ac- cepting no less a sacrifice than that of his own Son, he has, by this most expressive and tremendous act, sig- nified to the whole world such extreme indignation at sin, as may well alarm, even while he saves us, and make us " tremble at his severity, even while we are *' within the arms of his mercy*." II. The appearance of Christ in the form of man, and the death he suffered for our sakes, did not only make our peace with God, but it also enabled him to afford us the strongest possible proof of that most com- fortable doctrine, our resurrection from the dead, by his own return to life again after lying three days in the grave. It was, therefore, a most eminent proof of divine wisdom, that the very same event, the death of Christ, should answer two such important purposes ; should both afford us the means of reconciliation with God, and at the same time give birth to another great event, which fills us with the joyful hope and the cer- tain expectation of everlasting life. Nay, even the public and ignominious manner in which our Lord ex- pired, and which has sometimes b^en a ground of ob- jection and of reproach, was in reality an additional indication of divine wisdom. For had our Lord's death been less public and notorious, and had his per- son been in his last moments less exposed to the obser- vation of mankind, the proof of his resurrection from the dead would have been considerably weakened. Had his death been private and silent, and after the or- dinary manner of men, the reality of it would very soon have been questioned ; and consequently his re- surrection would have been represented as a gross frau(?. * Scott's Christian Life, b. 3, SERMON XXI. 269 and a scandalous imposition on the credulity of man- kind. But his crucifixion in the face of day, and in the presence of an immense concourse of people, took away every pretence of this nature, and gave a strong and irresistible confirmation to the truth of that aston- ishi;!g .niracle which followed ; which is the foundation of all our hopes, and the great corner-stone of our whole Religion. III. Before the appearance of our Saviour on earth, there was a notion universally prevalent in every part almost of the known world, that sin could no other- wise be expiated than by animal sacrifices. And this at length was carried so far, that in some extraordina- ry cases it was thought that the death of brute animals was not sufficient. Human sacrifices became neces- sary ; and the more near and dear the person sacrificed was to them, the more valuable Avas the offering thought ; so that they frequently slaughtered their sons and daughters, more especial I3' their first-born, on the altars of their gods. Now the death of Christ, at the same time that it was a gracious condescension to the prevailing opinion of the necessity of sacrifice, put an entire end (through a great part of the world) to that sanguinary species of devotion, by rendering it totally useless and inefficacious. For " Christ ^vas offered " once for all ; by one offering he perfected for ever *' them that are sanctified*;" and obtained, by one single act, that \\ hich mankind had, from the beginning of the world, been endeavoring in vain to accomplish, by innumerable and continual sacrifices, namely, the pardon of their sins, and reconciliation with God. Af- ter this universal and effectual expiation, no other was of the least use or value. Accordingly, in every coun- try that embraced the Gospel, all sacrifices, both animal and human, immediately ceased ; and a sudden and absolute period was put to that incredible effusion of blood, which had deluged the world almost firom the very creation down to that time. • Hebrews x. 10. 14;. 270 SERMON XXI. IV. At the same time, that the sacrifice made by Christ upon the cross put an end to all other sacrifices, it gave (what they could never give) an absolute cer- tainty of pardon, on the condition of repentance and reformation of life. This it was impossible that any one could rationally expect from the slaughter of an innocent animal, much less from that of a humarr be- ing. Both these acts seemed in themselves, rather calculated to increase guilt than to take it away. God might, indeed, if he pleased, accept the commutation of one life for another ; and it was on this presumption that the Heathen world adopted the custom of sacrifices. But this was certainly a mere presumption. Without an express revelation of the divine will in this respect, no one could be absolutely sure that such a substitu- tion would be accepted. But God has now actually declared in the Gospel, that he does accept the death of Christ as a propitiation for our sins. And to put this beyond all doubt, he has ratified and confirmed that acceptance by a public, significant and decisive act of approbation, the act of raising him from the dead. V. The death of Christ is also a seal and confirma- tion of the new covenant betwixt God and man. For it was the custom of almost all ancient nations, both Jews and Gentiles, to ratify their treaties and covenants by sacrifices. Of this you may see instances in various parts of Scripture^, and in several Heathen historians!. In condescension therefore to the manner of men, and to confirm their faith in his promises, God did, by the sacrifice of Christ, seal and ratify his new- covenant of mercy with mankind ; upon which account the death of our blessed Lord is called (as the Jew ish sacrifices also were) " the blood of the co'ueiiantX-'''' This, thjKrefore, is another excellent purpose answer- ed, by that method of redeeming us which God was pleased to fix upon : that it is conformable to all those Ibederal rights by which men were wont to confirm their * Gen. xv- Jerem. xxxir. f Livy, lib. i. c. 24. &c. &.c. + Heb. X. 20 \ xii. 2\. Ex. XAiv. 8- SERMON XXI. 271 covenants with each other; and thus gives us every possible assurance, not only by words, but by the most expressive actions, that God ^^ ill perform all h.s gra- cious promises made to us in the Gospel, provided we lalfil the conditions on which alone those promises are made. , . , ... .. » , These are somco^ die reasons which mightj possibly induce our Maker to fix on the death of his Son as the • best method of redeeming mankind ; and there may be, and undoubtedly are, many other reasons for that choice, unknown to us, still more wise and more be- nevolent than those already specified. \et these are abundandy sufficient to convince us, that the redcmp- tion wrought for us by Christ upon die cross, carries in it the plainest marks of diMue wisdom. _ Still, however, it may be urged, and it often is urged with ^reat confidence, that even admitting the force ot everv thing here said, admitting the necessity of some sacrifice for the expiation of sin, and a sacrifice too ot o-rcat value and dignity ; yet after all, it seems utterly incredible, that the death of no less a person than the Son of God himself should be necessary for this pur- pose ; and that he, in uhom all the fulness of the god- head dwelt, should ever consent and condescend to be- come that sacrifice, and to expire in agonies on the cross for such a creature as man, who occupies so small ana and seemingly so inconsiderable a place in the immensi- ty of the universe. • There is undoubtedlv something very astonishing in this circumstance. But there are not wantir.g con- siderations, which may, in some degree, tend to ac- count even for this acknowledged difficulty. ^ In the first place, there is a very extraordinory per- sonage mentioned in Scripture, uhose existence it is the fashion of die present day to doubt and to deride, and to explain a^^•ay some of the most striking eftects of his power into allegory, metaphor, vision, and ima- irination. He is, notv. id^.standing described by the Sicred writers in the plainest v.nd the clearest terms, and represented as a beln- of high rank, of great pow- 2n SERMON XXI. er, and prodigious art and strength. The names there given him are, Satan, Beelzebub, the Devil, and the Prince of the Devils ; and he appears to be in a state of perpetual hostility against (5od and Christ, and this lower world, over which he has very considerable in- fluence. He is described by our Saviour under the image of a strong man^^ \\'hom it was necessary to bind before you could spoil his house. He is called the Prince of the Power of the Airf ; the Prince of this World|; and, by St. Paul, the God of this Workl||. He is represented as being at the head of a numerous and formidable host of wicked spirits ; to whom St. Paul gives the title of principalities, and powers, and rulers of this world §. And in another place they are said to be his angels*[[. To this malignant and insidi- ous Being was owing the fall of our first parents, and all the tragical consequences of that fetal event, the in- troduction of death and sin, and every kind of natural and moral evil, into the world. On these ruins of hu- man nature did this tremendous spirit erect his infernal throne, and established an astonishing dominion over the minds of men, leading them into such acts of folly, stupidity, and wickedness, as are on no other prin- ciple to be accounted for ; into the grossest super- stitions, into the most brutal and senseless idolatry, into the most unnatural and abominable crimes, into the most execrable rites and inhuman sacrifice**. Nay, what is still more deplorable, he gave the finish- ing stroke to the disgrace and humiliation of mankind, by setting up himself -Ci^ the object of their adoration, and that too (to complete the insult) under that very form which he had assumed to betray and to destroy them ; I mean that of the serpent ; the worship of which disgusting and odious animal, it is well known, prevailed to an incredible degree in almost every part of the Pas^an world, and is still to be found in some * Matth. xii. 29. + Ephes. ii. 2. 1 John xii. 31. }| 2 Cor. iv. 4. § Ephes. vi.,12. \ Matth. xxv. 41. ** Nothing less than diabolical influence can account for the almost uni- versal custom of human sacrifices, and the attrocious outrages on ail decency perpetrated in some of the sacred rites of Egypt, Greece, and Hiado&tati.. See Maurice's Indian Antiquilies, vol. i. p. 256, 2r4. SERMON XXI. 273 parts of Africa*. In this manner did Satan lord It over the human race, till our blessed Saviour appear- ed on earth. At that time his tyranny seems to have arrived at its utmost height, and to have extended to the bodies as well as to the souls of men, of both which he sometimes took absolute possession ; as we see in the history of those unhappy persons mentioned in Scripture, whom wc call Demoniacs, and who were truly said to be /JC5^(r^^iiv'. 19. SERMON XXIII. 303 and comfort of that most useful, though too often most UTetched, pnrt of the species, slaves and servants, are entirely worthy of a law that came down from Heaven. That absolute and unlimited power over the lives of slaves indulged to their tyrannical masters by almost all Heathen lawgivers, a i)o\ver most scandalously abused to the disgrace of all humanity, w-as cffectualv restrained by the Jewish law, which punished tlic murder of a slave with the utmost rigor*. The kindness enjoin- ed towards hired servants is most remarkable. " Thou *' shalt not oppress a hired servant that is poor and *' needy ; whether he be of thy brethren or of thy ** strangers that are in the land within thy gates. At " his day thou shalt give him his hire ; neither shall *' the sun go down upon it ; for he is poor and set- " teth his heart upon itf Thou shalt not rule over " thy brother with rigor J." The injunctions res- pecting Hebrew slaves were no less merciful. *' If *''thy brother, a Hebrew man, or a Hebrew woman, *' be sold unto thee, and serve thee six years, in the *' seventh year thou shalt let him go free from thee ; *' and thou shalt not let him go away empty ; but thou " shalt furnish him liberally out of thy flock, and out *' of thy floor, and out of thy wine press : and of that ** wherewith the Lord thy God hath blessed thee, thou *' shalt give unto himj|." It should seem also, as if all other bondmen or slaves (even those that were cap- tured in Avar or brought from the neighboring Heathen nations) A\ere to be emancipated in the year of the Jubilee; that is, every fifdeth year: for it is said imiver- sally, " Yc shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim *' liberty throughout all the land, to all the inhabitants *' thereof^." The utmost care, in short, is taken throughout to guard against every species of tyranny • Ex. XX i. 20. t Deut. xxiv 14. 15. \ Lev. x.w. 43. 1} Deut. XV. 12, 1.1. Other instances of this humanity in the Jewish law, may be seen in Dc.it. x::ii. 6. 8. xxiv. 5, 6, 12, 13, to the end. Rosseau him- atlf {Kinii'e, lib. 5. p. 6.) commends the benevolent spirit of the law men- tioned Ex. xxii. 26, 27. See also on this point the ancient part of the Universal Ilistory> vol. iii. 8vo, p. 136, note b. and p. 152. . 304 SERMON XXIIL and oppression, and to protect the helpless and weak from the wanton insolence of prosperity and power. The tenderness of the divine legislature thought no creature below its notice ; and extended itself to the minutest articles of social and domestic life, which, though unnoticed by less benevolent lawgivers, do, in fact, constitute a very great and essential part of human happiness and misery. With such heavenly institutions as these (which we shall in vain look for in any Pagan government) is eve- ry page of the Jewish law replete. It is from these we are to form our judgment of the Jews, of their Religion, and its Divine Author* ; and if these had their proper effect on the manners of the people, they must have produced upon the whole a constant and habitual (though, perhaps, from the very nature of their situa- tion, a confined) benevolence, much superior, not only to that of their rude cotemporaries, but to the boasted lenity of much later and more polished na- tions. It will be readily understood, that every thing wliich has been here said to vindicate the Jewish nation in general from the charge of disthigu'ished cruelty^ is ap- plicable to King David in particular. But he may also lay claim to some peculiar indulgence from the singu- larity of his own circumstances, which were frequently very unfavorable to humanity. It was his fortune to pass through almost every scene of life, and to meet with almost every incident in his way, that could be injurious to his temper, or give an edge to his resent- ments. Extremes of happiness or misery, sudden transitions from the one to the other, the persecutions of enemies, and the unkindness of friends, are cir- * A consideration of the general temper and disposition of law will be found of great advantage to civil life ; and will supply us with very useful theory. It is reaching the heart in the first instance, and making ourselves masters of the genius of a whole people at once, by reading them in that glass virhich represents thein best, the turn of their civil institutions. There is scarce a passage in all antiquity more happily imagined, than that where Demosthenes tells us, that the laws of a country were considered as the mo- rals of a state, and the cliaracter of a'whole people taken collectively. Hr. Taylor's Elcvicnt^ (>f Civil Lai", 3tl edit. p. 160. SERMON XXIir. 505 Gumstanccs which seldom fail of hurting the mind, and vitiating the most benevolent disposition. All these did David experience in quick succession, and in their fullest extent. He was originally nothing more than a shepherd ; and at a time when his youth and inexperience seemed to disqualify him for any more important business than that of feeding a flock, he broke out at once die cham- pion and preserver of his country. Transplanted on a sudden from a cottage to a court, he experienced al- ternately the smiles and the frowns of a capricious mo- narch ; was sometimes flattered with the hope of being united to him by the closest bonds of aflinity, and sometimes in danger of being struck by him with a javelin to the wail. Driven at length from his pre- sence, and torn from the arms of those he loved, *' his ** soul was hunted from city to city ;" and after suf- fering the last distresses of human nature, he was not only restored to the honors he had lost, but seated on the throne of Israel. And here, though surrounded with all the pleasures and magnificence of an Eastern mo- narch, yet was he at the same time not only harassed with the common uneasinesses of life, and the cares in- separable from royalty, but experienced a succession of the bitterest sufferings and the heaviest domestic cala- mities ; was once more driven from Jerusalem, deserted by his friends, cursed by his enemies, and persecuted by his darling son ; whose death did indeed put a peri- od to his public calamities, but plunged him in the deepest affliction, and was very near bringing down his grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. When to these private considerations we add those more general ones above-mentioned, we can hardly be surprized at any excesses of severity that King David occasionally gave way to. We shall rather be surpri- zed to find, in so tumultuous and military a kind of life, many striking instances of humanity, many amia- ble tendernesses, many uncommon and heroical exer- tions of generosity, which j)lainly indicated a temper constitutionally good and rieht, but laboring under 306 SERMON XXIIL the weight of numberless disad\'r.ntages, which some- times dragged it from its true bias, and forced it to take a turn directly opposite to its natural bent. His cir- cumstances exposed him to a variety of injuries and in- sults ; the liveliness of his sensations made him feel them, the impetuosity of his passions made him resent them, too strongly. And yet, though every thing thus concurred to stimulate his revenge, though the guilt of indulging it was not then so apparent and so acknowledged as it now is, yet did he, on one memo- rable occasion, resist the strongest impulses of this importunate and ungovernable passion, though tempted to gratify it by the most inviting opportunity on his in- veterate enemy, whose past conduct would almost have justified any extremity ; and whose removal would not only have put an immediate end to his distresses, but, in all appearance, opened his way to the attainment of his utmost wishes, and raised him at once from an ex- ile to a king*. It is but justice also to add, that this prince had a sen- sibility of soul, which, though it gave too keen an edge both to his relish of pleasure and his resentment of injury, yet gave at the same time an uncommon fer- vor to his repentance, a peculiar vigor and vivacity to all his virtues ; rendered him most feelingly alive to the noblest and the tenderest sentiments ; and inspired him with every liberal and social affection that can warm the human breast. "O Absalom, my son, my son," are words that will go to every parent's heart that has experienced the same misfortune, and speak to it with a force and eloquence that has never yet been equalled. He had, moreover, as his inimitable writings abundant- ly testify, a most ardent spirit of devotion, and a bound- less zeal for the honor of God and the interests of his Religion ; and the general tenor of his conduct, when left to its own natural course, very clearly evinced, that he was, upon the whole, a conscious observer and a strenuous asserter of the Divine laws, a most disinter- * 1 Sam. xxiv. Vide Peters on Job, p. 352. SERMON XXIIL 307 csted and active patriot, the tende/est of parents, and the most affectionate of friends. At the same time, however, that we do justice to the virtues of King David, we must acknowledge and la- ment his faults, which were undoubtedly great, and in one flagrant instance more especially, justly subject him to the severest reproach. But while we censure him on this account, as he deserves, it will be our wisdom to look w^ell also to ourselves. To the Infidel it is mat- ter of unspeakable triumph, that the man after God's own heart should have been betrayed into such (head- ful crimes. But to the Christian it must be a subject of most serious concern and alarm, to observe so stri- king aproof of the frailty and weakness of human nature, even when strengthened by mature years, and confirm- ed by early habits of virtue and religion. It holds out to him a most awful lesson, how indispensably neces- sary it is, even for men of the best dispositions and most exalted piety, to keep their hearts with all dili- gence ; to watch and to guard those passions, which they feel most predominant in their souls, with unre- mitting vigilance, to the latest period of their lives ; and to apply most fervently and frequently for that help from above, which is promised in the Gospel to every sincere believer, and without w-hich our utmost efforts and our firmest resolutions will, in some unguarded and unsuspected moment, give way to the impetuosity of passion, and we shall be unexpectedly plunged into an abyss of guilt and misery. But, above all things, let us beware o£ per-verting the example of David to our own ruin, and of considering his deviations from duty, not as they truly are, a warn- ing to us against danger, but as an encouragement to lis to tread in the same unhallowed paths of vice. Let us not flatter ourselves, that because he, so devout, so religious, so distinguished by the favor of Heaven, was once most fatally seduced into sin, that we may there- fore commit the same or similar crimes with impunity. On the contrary, if these crimes appear so odious and detestable, even in a Jewish monarch, who had to "308 SERMON XXIII. plead in his excuse (though all excuse was vain) the temptations of a court, the manners of the times, the peculiarity of his own circumstances, and the liberties too often taken by men in his situation ; they must as- sume a much more frightful aspect in a private Chris- tian, who has none of those mitigating pleas to offer, who lives in much more enlightened and civilized times, has much stricter rules of moral conduct presented to him in the Gospel, is called to a much higher degree of purity and holiness, has far more powerful aid from Heaven to support him in his duty, more terrible pun- ishments to work upon his fears, and more glorious rewards to animate his hopes. Let it be remembered too, that the offences of Da- vid were by no means passed over with impunity ; that he was severely punished for them by the remorse of his own conscience, by the deep affliction into which they plunged him, by the wretched consequences they drew after them, and by the heavy and positive penalties denounced and inflicted upon him by God himself. Hear how the repenting monarch bemoans himself in the anguish of his soul, and then say, whether his situation was an enviable one ; whether you would chuse to imitate his misconduct, and take the conse- quences. *' Have mercy upon me, O God, after thy great " goodness, according to the multitude of thy mer- *' cies do away mine offences. Wash me thorough- *' ly from my wickedness, and cleanse me from my *' sin ; for I acknowledge my fault, and my sin is ever " before me. Make me a clean heart, O God, and *' renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away " from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit ^' from me. Thy rebuke hath broken my heart, I am *' full of heaviness ; I looked for some to have pity on " me, but there was no man, neither found I any to *' comfort me. My God, my God, look upon me : " why hast thou forsaken me, and art so far from my *' health and the words of my complaint. I cry in the " day-time, and thou hearest not ; and in the night- SERMON XXIII. ^00 «* season also I take no rest. Turn thee unto me, and *' have mercy upon me, for I am desolate and in mise- " ry. The sorrows of my heart arc enlarged, O bring *' thou me out of my troubles. Look upon my adver- *^ sity and misery, and forgive me all my sin. Thine *' arrows stick fast in mc, and thy hand prcsseth me " sore : for my wickednesses are gone over my head, **■ and are like a sore burthen, too heavy for me to *' bear. I am brought into so great trouble and mise- *' ry, that I go mourning all the day long. My heart *' panteth, my strength faileth, and the sight of mine '* eyes is gone from me*." It is hardly in the power of language to express greater agony of mind than this ; and no one, surely, that reads these passages can wish to undergo the mi- sery there described. It is impossible for him, if he is of a sound mind, to make so wretched a bargain for himself, as to plunge voluntarily into the crimes of the royal penitent, that he may afterwards taste the bitter fruits of his contrition and remorse ; or, (what is still worse, and what no sinner can be secure against) that he may die without repenting at all, and rush into the unceasing torments of " a worm that never dies, and *' a fire that is never quenched." * Ps. li. Ixix. XXV. xxxvin. &c. 5;c. CQE SERMON XXIV. James i. 27. Pure religion^ and undefiled before God caid the Father, is this ., to visit the Jatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keeji himself unspotted from the world. IT should seem as if Religion was here made to con- sist only of two parts; Charity or Benevo- lENCE respecting others, and Purjty or Self-Go- VERNMENT respecting ourselvcs. The first of these, Benevolence, is characterized to us by singling out one of the strongest of our social affections, compas- sion towards the distressed, which, in the beautiful lan- guage of Scripture, is called 'visiting, that is, relieving *' the fatherless and widows in their affliction ;" a mode of expression very common to the sacred wri- ters ; especially when they are describing the virtue of Charity, which is almost constantly represented by one or other of its most striking features. The other part of Religion, here specified Self- Gov- ernment, is very distinctly marked out by the phrase of "keeping himself unspotted from the world ;" which plainly means a total abstinence from the immo- ral practices and unlawful pleasures of the world ; a strict command over our irregular appetites and pas- sions ; an abhorrence of every thing that tends to de- base our nature, and contaminate our souls. But it must immediately occur to every one, that, besides the two branches of Religion here enumera- ted, there is a third, of which St. James takes no notice. SERMON XXIV. 311 • And it may appear, at first sight, a little extraordinary, that an Apostle of Christ, w hen he seems to be giving a formal definition of his Master's Religion, should omit what has ever been esteemed a most essential part of it. Piety ^ OT the lon^e of God. But, although this du- ty is not expressly mentioned, yet it is evidently im- plied, in the text, which reeommends such Religion only as terminates ultimately in God, such as is pure and undefiled " before God and the Father." And the reason why St. James did not more particularly insist on this point was, because he had no occasion to press it on the persons to A\hom he was writing. That acts of piety were necessary, they readily owned ; but they were too apt, it seems, to think, that scarce any thing else was necessary ; and that, provided they were punctual and exact in their devotional exercises, they might be allowed to relax a litde in the govern- ment of their passions, and the duties owing to their neighbor. St. James, therefore, pointing the whole force of his admonition against this dangerous error, and pas- sing over those religious observances, on which they were already disposed to pique themselves too much, reminds them in the text, that although God was in- deed to be worshipped, yet it was to be not only with their lips, but in their lives ; that Religion, that even Devotion itself, did not consist merely in calling up- on God's name, but in obeying his laws ; in acts of kindness to their fellow:- creatures, and an unspotted sanctity of manners. Let no one, therefore, infer, what some have been too willing to infer, from the passage before us, that an inoffensive, beneficent, and tolerably good moral life, is the whole of Religion ; and that the love of God con- stitutes no part of our duty. It is, on the contrary, our principal and most important duty, or, as the Scrip- tures express it, the first and great co7nmandmcnt. And as, without Piety, there can be no Religion, so w ithout belief in the Son of God, there can be evi- dently no Christianity. Unless our virtue is built on this foundation, unless it be grounded on true cvange S12 SERMON XXIV* Jical principles, it may be very good Pagan morality, but it is not Christian godliness. And M^hatever other rewards it may be entitled to, it can have no claim to that eternal one, which is not a matter of right, strictly due to our services, but the free gift of God to those only that embrace the offers of salvation made to them in the Gospel, on the conditions of a right faith, as well as of a right conduct* Yet it has become of late but too common, not only to treat the peculiar doc- trines of Christianity with contempt, and to set up practical morality as the sum and substance of all reli- gion ; but what is still more extraordinary, men have frequently thought, or pretended to think, that even morality itself was not necessary in all its extent ; and that of the two duties mentioned in the text, CnARixt and Self-Government, it was fully sufficient to cul- tivate that which best suited their own constitutions or inclinations. Accordingly, they have very seldom paid a due regard to both these at the same time ; but slight* ing each of them in their turn, haye persuaded them- selves, that the observance of the one would atone for the neglect or violation of the other. These assertions might very easil}'^ be proved by facts ; and it would be no unpleasing, nor perhaps un* profitable speculation, to trace the various revolutions that have happened in the opinion and the practice of mankind with regard to these two Christian virtues. But it is sufficient for my present purpose to observe, that as the distinguishing character of our forefathers in the last age was preciseness and severity of manners ; Me, their descendants, on the contrary, have taken up Be- nevolence for ou?' favorite virtue : and that the same vigor of mind, and national vehemence of temper, which carried them such remarkable lengths in the rugged paths of moral discipline, has with us taken a different direction, and a gayer look ; is stirring up all the humane and tender affections within our souls, and urging us on to the noblest exertions of generosity and beneficence. SERMON XXIV. 3 IS For to our praise it must be owned, that it will not be easy to fijicl any age or nation in which both private and public benevolence was ever carried to so high a pitch, or distributed in so many different channels, as it is amongst ourselves at this day. Numerous as the evils are to which man is naturally subject, and indus- trious as he is in creating others by his own follies and indiscretions, modern charity is still equal and present to them all, and accommodates itself to the many vari- ous shapes in which human misery appears. It feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, visits the sick, protects the widow, relieves the stranger, educates the orphan, instructs the ignorant, reclaims the sinner, receives the penitent. So far, then, you have done well ; you have discharged, perhaps, one branch of your duty, but how have you performed the others ? What regard, more espec'.ally, have you paid to that virtue which is linked with charity in the very words of the text ? Whilst you *' visit the fatherlessand widows in their affliction, do you " keep yourselves unspotted from the world ?" Are you plain and simple in your diet and your attire ? Are you sober, chaste, and m.odest ? Are you temperate in your pleasures, and discreet in your amusements ? Do you mingle solitude and reflection with business and with society ? Do you bridle your tongues, and moderate your desires ? Do you keep your bodies under and bring them into subjection ? Do you crucify the flesh with all its aflTections and lusts ? Do you carefully avoid every thing that may inflame and stimulate your pas- sions ? Are you, in short, as rigorous to yourselves as you are benevolent to others ? If to these questions your consciences can answer, with truth, in the affirma- tive ; and if to all this you have added the sincerest sentiments of love and gratitude to your Maker, your Redeemer, your Sanciifier, then, indeed, you have been good and faithful servants to your heavenly Mas- ter ; then may you safely call yourselves disciples of Christ ; and with humble reliance on his merits, not your own, may expect to enter into the joy of your Lord. Qq iU SERMON XXIV. But if, on the contrary, there are but too evideiiC marks among certain classes of men of an inextinguish- able thirst for pleasure and amusement, and those toa not always of the most innocent and reputable nature ; if luxury not only prevails as a fashion, but is studied as a science ; if charity is in some persons nothing more than a cloak for voluptuousness ; if benevolence is industriously and ofiiciously, I had almost said in- vidiously, cried up, and magnified as the only duty of a man, nay, even of a Christian ; whilst purity is ridi- culed and set at nought, as a sour, unsocial, unhumani- zed virtue ; is called austerity, preciseness, puritanism, or any thing but what it really is ; if the natural conse- quences of this licentious doctrine are but too visible in that rapid growth of dissoluteness anjongst us, which seems to threaten the extinction of every moral and re- ligious principle ; if, in fine, the grossest violations of decency, nay, even of connubial fidelity, are often treated with levity and gaiety, as subjects rather of pleasantry than of reproach ; and are not only commit- ted without scruple but avowed, and sometimes defen- ded too, without a blush ; if this be a faithful portrait of our manners, what infinite cause have we, amidst all our boasted charities, to tremble at the danger of our situation I It is incredible, k is impossible, that the righteous Governor of the Universe can be an uncon- cerned spectator of such wickedness as this ! But is our Benevolence then you will say, of no avail ? Will not that shelter us from punishment ? For charity, we are told, *'shall coverthe multitude of sins*:" and, accordingly, we take effectual care that it shall have a multitude to cover. But whose sins does St. Peter say that charity shall cover ? Our own, or those of others ? He may only mean, that a charitable man "will not wantonly dhu/ge, but will coDer, w ill throw a veil over, the failings of his neighbor. But supposing, what is most probable, that our own sins are meant, what sort of sins do you think that charity shall cover ? Not, surely, those gross, presumptuous habitual ones,. • 1 Pet iv. 8. SERMON XXIV. 315 which we would gladly shelter under it ; but those ca- sual slips and inadvertencies, those almost unavoidable errors, weaknesses, and imperfections, to which the very best of men are subject, and which are almost the only sin^> that a truly charitable man can have to cover. For what is this charity, at last, of which such great things are said in Scripture ? Read over that well- known, and most eloquent description of it by St. Paul, and you w ill f^nd it to be something very differ- ent from that false inuige of it which the philosophy of this world has set up to worship. From thence, from the whole tenor of Scripture you will find it to be not merely an easay, undistinguishing good nature, or a thoughdess, profuse, pernicious liberality ; but an in- ward principle of universal kind affection, founded in nature, improved by reason, and perfected by grace ; restraining us, in the first place, from doing harm ; then projTipting us, on every occasion, and towards ^very person, to do all the good we possibly can. This is the oiily charity thvit the Gospel is acquainted with ; the only one, that in conjunction with repentance, and iaidi in our Redeemer, can in the least contribute to obtain pardon for our failings and render us meet to be partakers of the kingdom of Heaven. In \\ hatever sense, then, we understand the expres- sion o^ charity co-verhig our sins, the sensualist can never avail himself of that protection, because he acts in direct contradiction to the very first principles of true Chris- tian charity. " Love worketh no ill to his neighbor," says St, Paul ; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law ; and therefore he who works such ill to his neigh- bor, as the voluptuary does every day, (by destroying the innocence, the peace, the comfort, the happiness, temporal and eternal, of those very persons for whom •he professes the tendcrest regard,) must be an utter stranger to, real philanthrophy. Though he may feed the hungry and clothe the naked, and visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction ; yet, if to gratify his -own passions, he plunges those who have never offend- ed him in misery and disgrace, he is a hurtful membe;- 316 SERMON XXIV. of society. Nay, perhaps his very liberality and good- nature serve only to render him the moVe hurtful. They throw a lustre over the criminal part of his character, and render him an object of admiration to the crowd of servile imitators, who not having the sense to separate his vices from his accomplishments, from their con- duct upon his example in the gross, and hope to be- come equally agreeable by being equally wicked. And, as if it was not enough to have these patterns before our eyes in real life, tlficy are once more served up to us in the productions of some modern writers, who, to the fond ambition of what they call copying after na- ture, and of gaining a name, are content to sacrifice the interests of virtue, and to lend a willing hand to- wards finishing the corruption of our manners. Hence it is, that in several of our most favorite works of fan- cy and amusement, the principal figure of the piece is some professed libertine, who, on the strength of a pleabing figure, a captivating address, and a certain amiable generosity of disposition, has the privilege of committing whatever irregularities he thinks fit, and of excusfing them in the easiest manner imaginable, as the unavoidable effects of constitution, and the little foibles of a heart intrinsically good. Thus, whilst he delights our imagination, and wins our afiections, he never fails, at the same time, to corrupt our principles. And young people, more especially, instead of being inspir- ed with a just detestation of vice, are furnished with apologies for it which they never forget, and are even taught to consider it as a necessary part of an accom- plished character. It becomes, then, every sincere Christian to oppose to the utmost this prevailing licentiousness, which in- sinuates itself into the manners and minds of men, un- der the protection of some engaging qualities, with ^ which it sometimes w, but much oftener affects to be, imited. And the only way of putting a stop to this mischief, and of restoring that union which the text enforces, and which ought always to subsist between the two great branches of practical morality, is to sho\r SERMON XXIV. 31T by our example (the most intelligible and convincing of all proofs) that Benevolence is then most lovely, when joined with its true ally, its proper companion, Self-Government ; that, in order to form a pleas- ing character, it is by no means necessary to throw into it any impure alloy ; but that on the contrary, a truly pious and strictly moral Christian, will not only be the most virtuous, but the most amiable of men. Unhappily, indeed, a contrary opinion has too long and too generally prevailed amongst us ; and licentious wits have taught great numbers to believe that purity of manners is a vulgar and a contemtpil)Ie virtue, and that all pretence to it is in general nothing more than hypocrisy and grimace. But let us not be frightened by a few hard \\ ords and a little witless buffoonery, from pursuing steadily the invariable rule of moral rectitude. As sure as God himself is all purity and perfection, there is such a thing as real purity of heart and life ; and it is one of the most exalted virtues that can dig- nify human nature. It gives that strength and vigour and masculine firmness to the mind, which is the foun- dation of every thing great and excellent. It has pro- duced some of the noblest struggles, and most heroi- cal exertions, of soul, that the world ever saw, and is, perhaps, a more convincing, more unequivocal proof of our sincerity in religion, than even benevolence it- self. When it is considered how many inducements, how many temptations^ there are to acts of humanity, to which nature prompts, to which fashion draws, to which vanity, interest, popularity, ambition, some- times lead us, one cannot always be sure that they proceed from a truly Christian principle. But he who combats his darlin«- passions, and gives up the fondest wishes of his soul ; who keeps a constant guard upon all his thoughts, words, and actions ; intrepidly with- stands the most alluring temptations, and taken up his Cross to follow Christ ; this man cannot well be in- fluenced by any thing but a strong sense of duty, and an undissembled conviction that he is bound to obey even the severest precepts of the Gospel. His good 518 SERMON XXIV. actions are neither seen nor applauded of men. They are performed in secrecy and in silence without osten'- tation, without regard, save only the approbation of that all-seeing God, who is witness to the bitter con- flicts of his soul, and will one day make him ampl© amends in the sight of angels and of men. Let it not, however, be supposed that any thing here said is meant to depreciate that most heavenly virtue, charity, or to rob those that exercise it of that fair fame, that heartfelt satisfaction, and those glorious rewards hereafter, which through the merits of their Redeemer cannot fail to recompense their generous labors. May every branch and species of benevolence for ever flou- rish and abound. May its divine and blessed influence spread continually wider and wider, till it takes in every creature under heaven, and leaves not one misery un- alleviated, one grievance unredressed. But all exceU lent as it is, let not this, let not any single virtue, en- :gross our whole attention. Let us not confine our- selves to the easy, the delightful, the reputable works of beneficence, and neglect the other great branch of moral duty, Self-denial ; no less necessary and impor- tant, but much more difHcuIt, and which, therefore, ■stands in need of every possible argument in its favor to recommend and support it. Let us no longer make inviduous and unjust distinctions between these two kindred virtues. In nature, in reason, in the sight of God, in the Gospel of Christ, sen"- government is of equal value with social duties. They equally tend to tlie perfection of our own minds and the comfort of our fellow-creatures. The same rewards are in Scripture promised to both ; the same penalties are denounced against the violation of both ; and ther^ is so strict and intimate a union between them, that the. cultivation or neglect of the one, must necessarily lead, and has, in fact, always ultimately led, to the improvement or de- privation of the other. What then God and nature, as well as Christ and his apostles, have joined together, let no man dare to put asunder. Let not any one Matter himself with the hope of obtaining the re^vards^ SERMON XXIV. 319 or even escaping the punishments of the Gospel, by- performing only one branch of his duty. Let him not imagine, that the most rigorous severity of man- ners can excuse him from the exercise of undissembled love to God and to mankind ; nor, on the other hand, let him suppose, that under the shelter either of devo- tion or of benevolence, he may securely indulge his favorite passions ; may compound, as it were, with God for his sensuality by acts of generosity, and pur- chase by his wealth a general license to sin. Let him not, in short, content himself with being only half a Christian. Let him visit, as often as he pleases, the fatherless and the widows in their affliction. Let his piety be fervent, and his faith sincere. But let him, at the same time, take care, as he values his salvation, that he keep himself unspotted from the world. SERMON XXV*. 2 Kings iv. 1. Thy servant my husband -'s dead, and thou knoivesi thai thy servant did/ear the Lord ; and the creditor is come to take unto him my two sons to be bond-meii. THE unhappy sufferer, who makes this most mo- ving complaint, was the widow of one of the sons of the prophets, whose distress Elisha immediately re- lieved by the miraculous increase of her pot of oil. It will not be easy to find in any writer, sacred or profane, a more piteous story, or a case more applicable to the occasion of the present meeting. I cannot therefore do better than leave it upon your minds in that concise and affecting simplicity in which it is here related, whilst I proceeded to recommend the distressed Widows and Children of the English Clergy to your benevolent pro- tection. The nature and designof the several charitable in- stitutions, which have now brought us together, are, I presume, so well understood in this place, that there can be no need to take up any of your time in explaining themf. The generous support they have hitherto met * Preached at the anniversary meeting of the Sons of the Clergy, May 9, 1776. t Biit it may not perhaps be generally known that there are three distinct societies formed for the benefit of the indigent widows and children of the Clergy, and all clo.-rly connecfed with each other S The first and principal is The Corporation for the Relief of the poor Wi- do-ws and Children of CiergiVien, established by charter in the reign of King Cbarles the Second, '1 he funds of this charit/ are employed chiefly in giving peniiions to the widows of the clergy. SERMON XXV. 321 with demands our most grateful acknowledgments ; and in order to keep this friendly dispositions towards us alive and warm in your breasts, I shall attempt to show that the clergy of the Church of I'^ngland have, both on account of their public sewicesy and (with respect to too large a part) their prroatc necessities^ a peculiar claim to your kind attention and assistance. If we go back to the early ages of Christianity our own Ecclesiastics had their share, widi others of the sacred order, in first introducing the light of the Gos- pel into this country, and in sacrificing to its advance- ment their ease, their health, their fortunes, their lives. When in after-times, by a variety of concurrent causes, this kingdom was, in common with all its neighbors, overwhelmed with the most deplorable darkness and ig- norance ; and when that stupendous fabric of popish tyranny and superstition ^vas, like another Babel, raised up with incredible art and diligence, to the very skies ; yet still the Christian clergy in general, and ours among the rest, were of no small benefit to the community. It is acknowledged by an historian, ^vho has never be- trayed any partiality to our order, that in the period we nre speaking of, " the profession and (let me add) the *' disposition of the churchmen, averse to arms and vio- *' lence, tempered the general turn to military enter- *' prises, and maintained even amidst the shock of ** arms, those secret links without which it is impossi- The second, which rose not long after, is, The Society of the Feist of the Sons of the Clergy, consisffrig of the company annually assembled under that name at St. Paul's Church, and Merchant-Taylors Hall. The money- collected at those two places is wholly expended in apprenticing out the chil- dren of necessitous clergymen. The expenses of the music and tlie feast are generously defrayed by the stewards of that society. The third, is The Society of Ste-wards and Suhscribers for tnnintai^-.itig and educating the poor Orphans of the Clergy till rf age to be pin Apprentices. This society was formed in the year 1749. It is comj)osed of those who have been stewards of the former society, and any others who chuse to be- come members of it. It is supported by annual subscrii)tions of one guinea each, and maintains two schools, one for boys, and the other for girls, in which the orphans of the clergy are educated till they are of sufficient age to go out to apprenticeships. It might be of use if a short and clearaccount of these societies was print- ed in a small tract, de.scribing their nature and design, together with the proper time and method of applying to them for relief, and the persons t© whom such applications should be made. Rr 322 SERMON XXV; *' ble for human socie^^ to subsist*." Nay, even ma- ny privileges of the order that were justly looiied up- on with a jealous eye, yet proved, in those turbulent ages, a check to the despotism of our monarchs, and at the same time kept the community from fiillingto pieces by the Mictions and quarrels of the nobles. And it ought never to be forgotten, that for what we call our Mag- na Chart A, that main foundation (as it is generally held to be) of our free constitution, we are principallv indebted to the eloquence, the spirit, and the activity of an English primatef, assisted and supported by al- most the whole body of his clergy. It is true, indeed, in other respects the conduct of our Ecclesiastics was not always so irreproachable as might have been wish- ed ; for they must needs partake in some degree of the corruption and barbarity which then generally prevailed. Yet great numbers of them, did notwithstanding, pre- serve themselves pure and undefiled from the vices of the age, and were exemplary in their manners, tempe- rate, charitable, meek and heavenly-minded. Their cloysters were a retreat not merely, as is commonly supposed, for the idle and dissolute, but for the studi- ous, the afllicted, the penitent and the devout. They afforded support to all the neighboring poor, and in those dnys of lavv'lcss violence, were extremely useful as places of refuge and security to the defenceless and the weak. In them too were deposited many of those precious remains of antiquity which we TiOw peruse with so much delight, ancl which, had it not been for the protection they found in religious houses, wouldj in all probability, ha\c perished by the hands of those barbarians that spread ruin and desolation over Europe. * Iliime's Hist, of EnglaiiLl, Hen. HI. vol. ii. p. 10. 1st edit. 4to. 17'62. -{- Stephen Langton, archbishop of Caiiterburv ; " a man whose memo- " ry," savs the historian above ir.entioned, " ought always to be respected " by the English." Vol. 1. p. 382. In the following i-eign the abbots and prelates v.'ere very instrumental in obtaining the same security from Hen. III. and they endeavored to guard ar-ainst all future vicladons of it by a most tremendous ceremony. Thej- stood i-ound theGfiKAT Charter, v.hilst it was read in parliament, wiih burning tapers in their hands, and denounced the sentence of excommunica- tion against every one that should thenccf'.nnh dure to infringe that funda- B-icntal Taw. lb. Vol II. p. 25, 26. SER?^ION XXV. 525 In these peaceful sanctuaries, the leisure and tranquilli- ty which the monks enjoyed, enabled them not only to record (however uncoiithly) the transactions of their own times, but to transcribe the compositions of for- mer and more valuuble writers. Nor w as this th.e only ol:'ject of their attention. They found time to culti- vate even some of the finer arts. Those sublime pow- ers of harm.ony, \\hich ha\'e been thisVcry dav so no- bly and laudably exerted in the cause of the fatherless and the widow, owe their birth in this country to mo- nastic diligence and ingenuity. Both the theory and the practice of music \vere iirst studied and taught here, and in other parts of Europe, by the regular clergy* ; and what is now the delight and amusement of all ranks of people, was originally the offspring of Religion, and appropriated solely to the purpose of animating devotion, and giving dignity ixnd solem.nity to the service of the church. The monks drew up a large number of treatises on this subject, which not- withstanding the barbarism of the times, v.ere v. ritteri with great perspicuity, method, and precision ; and they had seminaries of young people under their care, whom they instructed in the rudiments of this science. Libraries were also formed in all the monasteries, and schools founded in them and near most of the cathe- drals, for teaching the literature of the tim.est. -'^"d thus was learning kept alive at least, though in a very languid state, till the art of printing was found out. Even that most useful art itself was, according to the opinion of some learned men, which seems to be well founded, first brought into our island by the care and generosity of an English primate.1:. In the restoration of letters, which quickly followed, the Ecclesiastics • See Dr. Eiirney'b Hist, of Music, vol. ii. p. 68. And Sir John Hawk- in's Preliminary Disc. p. 48 to 53 : and vol. v. p. 112, 113. f Vide Moshemii Hi.st. Ecclcs. sec. vi. par. ii. c. 1. p. 237- + Archbishop Bouvchier; who persuaded Henry VI. to furnish one Mr. Robert Turnour with a thousand marks (tov,-urd.s which the archbishop con- tributed three hundred), and to send liini privately to Harlem, in company with Caxton, in order to fetcli fron\ thcncc tlie iicw-invented art cf print- ing ; which he did accordingly, by bringinq; over to England Frederick Cor- seilis, one of tlie coinnoiitors at Haileiu. Sec Biograph. Uritann. art. 324 SERMON XXV. took the lead, and contributed more than any other set of men to introduce a true taste for every branch df polite and useful learning into this country. From that period to the present, they have always made a distin- guished figure in the whole circle of sciences and arts ; their writings have ever ranked amongst the purest of their times ; and let the occasion excuse me if I add, (the proofs of what I say are before the world) that our profession is at this very day adorned by men, who, in genius, learning, judgment, taste, and elegance of composition, have few if any superiors. Whoever, then, is a friend to literature and the fine arts, must be a friend to the English clergy, and will cheerfully contribute to the relief of that order which has so largely contributed to his information and amuse- ment. But they have still more substantial services than these to plead. To them you stand principally indebted, not only for the restoration of letters, but the revival of true Religion. For although the first oppo- sition made here to the usurpations of the Church of Rome took its rise from the passions of an impetuous prince, yet the work of reformation itself was undoubt- edly begun, carried on, and completed by the hands of the English clerg}^ In this glorious cause they wrote with irresistible strength of argument, and suffered AA ith invincible fortitude of mind. To their labors, their piety and learning, their judgment and modera- tion, you owe that pure mode of worship, and that ex- cellent form of public prayer you now enjoy ; the con- stant use of which in the Church of England, has un- doubtedly, in more respects than one, been of infinite service to the people of this kingdom. And when, at a subsequent period, our religious as well as civil liber- ties were in the most imminent danger of being destroy- ed by the intemperate zeal of a bigotted and despotic monarch, then again did the clergy courageously step forth in defence of both. From them originated one Bourchier. Dr. MidiUeton, indeed, and others, have endeavored to disprove the truth of this story ; but their most material objections to it have been well answered by Mr. Meerman, in his very curious and learicred work, en- tiik-d, Ori^ines Typogra})hica:, vol. ii. SERMON XXV. 325 of the very first parliamentary checks to the violences of lames II.* By their excellent discourses and writings against popery, the people were first roused to a just abhorrence of that dangerous superstitionf. By their decent, yet manly fitraness, in supporting their invaded rights, the rest of the nation v;as inspired with a similar resolution to resist the precipitate and unconstitutional measures of an infatuated court; and diroughout the whole of that memorable and glorious: transaction, their behavior was at once so prudent uiid ir.trc pid, so suitable to their p'ol'ession, and so fi iendly to the righte- ous cause of genuine liberty and pure r(lii;lon, that they received one of the highest and most flattering re- wards with which a Biitish subject can be honored, the unanimous thanks of the Commons of Great Bri- tain in Parliament assembled^. These, perhaps it will be said, though important, are past services, and are calculated to prove, not what we ourselves, but what our predecessors have done for the public. Yet surely they are reasons for esteeming the order in general, for bearing testimony to the me- rits of those who have formerly adorned it, and for ex - -ercising every act of kindness and humanity towards • Henry Compton, bishop of London, in the name cf his brethren, iriacle a motion in the House of Lords to take into consideration King James' fa- inous speech in the second session of parliament, in which he signihcd his intention o( disfieiish^ with the Test-acts. The bishop's n^.otion was carried. Hume's Hist. vol. vi. p. '390. — I have referred to this historian all along, for no other reason, than because his testimony, when given in y«it,r of the clergy (whom he sincerely hated) is unexceptionable. ■f To the same eminent persons we owe the subversion cf tlic whole system of Atheistic Philosophy, from its very foundations. See the Bishop «f Worcester's Sermons. S. i. p. 23. ^ Journals of the House of Commons, Feb. 1, 1688. Among other instances of cool yet resolute f;]>];osition to the despotism of James by the prelates and clergy cf the Chuicl-. cf England at tl::s mo- mentous period, the reader will recollect with pccul'ar venera'inn and grati- tude, Bishop Compton's refusal to comply with the king'.^ illigal crder to suspend Dr. SUarp, for preaching against poperj- ; tie resistance niade by Dr. Hough, and the Fellows of Magdalen College in Oxford, to the king's arbitrary mandate in favor fyf a popish jjresident ; ai.d ihc truly noble and patriotic conduct of the seven Bishops who were sent tc the Tower, and brought to a public trial for their petition to the throne against the seccnd Declaration of Indulgence founded on tLe Dis/cnshg Fiv.tr '1 1 tse ads of magnanimity on the part of the Er.gli.sh clergy, indiiputably prepared and led the way to the great and glorious events which soon after fclkwed. ^26 SERMON XXV. the persons who succeed them in their ministry. And even these, v;e hope, have something to plead in their behalf. They have not, we trust, materially departed from the principles of their ancestors. The Enj^lish clergy, we do not scruple to say, are still zealously at- tached to the interests of virtue and religion ; are still in general, faithful, diligent, and regular in the dis- charge of their sacred functions. They are still sin- cere friends to real consihutional freedom ; and the very same love of it, v»'hich at the Revolution led them to refuse a slavish and unlimited obedience to the illegal mandates of arbitrary power., induces them now to pro- mote, both by their doctrine and their example, that dutiful respect, and conscientious submission to all lawful authority', which the Gospel most peremptorily enjoins ; the extreme want of which is at present but too visible, and yet without which no true liberty can long subsist. But although, on these grounds, they have judged it expedient to throw- their weight into the scale of government, yet they have done this with- out any unbecoming vehemence or heat ; and amidst all the violent dissensions which have lately agitated this kingdom they have, as a body, conducted them- selves with a degree of prudence, temper, mildness and moderation, v/hich must do them no small credit in the eyes of every unprejudiced observer*. And that, in other respects, their talents, their learning, and their morals, are such as have gained them general approba- tion and esteem, may be collected from this single cir- cumstance ; that when you want to find out proper in- structors for your children, you namrally turn your thoughts to the clergy ; and it is in their hands, in their houses, you chuse to place whatever you hold most dear and valuable in the world. To them, in short, has long been, and still is, confided that most important trust, the education of youth ; a trust which it is no vain boast to say, they have discharged with fidelity • These remarks, thoiirh first made in the year 177&, are no less true at tlie present momsiit. SEI^MON XXV: 327 and nbllity*^. Under their direction, the schools and universities of this kingdom have acquired an acknow- ledged superiority over all the other seminaries of Eu- rope. In their colleges have been formed most of those gieat and illustrious characters that have contributed to the glory and prosperity of this country : and even among that large number of persons here present, there are few I apprehend, who have not, at some period of their lives, derived considerable benefit from the instruc- tions of our order. These known and undeniable facts arc, we conceive, very unequivocal proofs of our good condivct and good estimation ; and ought greatly to outweigh all those un- merited calumnies wliich are so often thrown both npoa the order in general, and the individuals of which it is composed, by those who know very little of eitherf. That there arc in ours, as in every other j)rofession, se- veral unworthy members, it is in vain to deny ; and where can be the wonder, if in so very numerous a so- ciety some apostates should be found ? But take the \vhole in one collective view, and it may v/ith the great- est truth be affirmed, that you will no vvhcre fmd, either in ancient or modern times, a body of more than ten thousand persons, situated in the midst of a populous,, rich, commercial, luxurious kingdom, surrounded with every temptation, and every danger to which virtue can be exposed, whose morals are so blameless, and so lit- tle injured by the general contagion, as those of the • How well qualined they are for this employment, has been fully shown by a consummate judge of the subject of education, in the Dialogue* on the Uses of Foreign Travel, 1st ei. Dial. 2. p. 183. The attentive perusal of these inimitable Dialogues is strongly recommended to all those who prefer a foreign university to our own, or who suffer their sons to ranibl't over Europe at an early and most dangerous period of life, not only without a clerical governor, but even sometimes without any governor at all. t " The n-aC," says a great and good prelate, '« which most of our ad- " versaries seem to have set themselves is, to be at all adventures as bitter " as they can ; and they follow it not only beyond truth, but beyond proba- ** bihty ; asserting the very worst things of us without foundation, and ex- " aggerating every thing without mercv ; iinputing the faults, and some- " times imaginary faults of particular persons, to the whole order ; ancf •' then declaiming against us all promiscuously with such wild vehemence,, " as, in any ca^e but ours, they themselves would think in the highest ue- " grce cruel and unjust." Sechr^t Cbar~es, p. 5. S28 SERMON XXV. English clergy. With respect to that part of them, more especially, whose families (wheK they themselves shall be no more) will probabl}'' want the protection of this charity, it is but justice to them to say, that their conduct renders them worthy of every act of kindness which their poverty may require. Contented, humble, modest, patient, and laborious, their lives are divided between fulfilling the duties of their profession, and struggling with the difficulties of their situation. Nay, it is to their virtue chiefly that these very distresses are o\\'ing. They are formed with the same passions and propensities as other men ; and were they as little scrupulous, about the means of gratifying them as oth- ers too commonly are ; had they adopted that very com- modious system of modern ethics, which ranks hypoc- risy and adultery among the requisites of a good educa- tion, there Viould certainly be no need for us ever to become your petitioners for their widows and children. But as they have been trained up in a religion which requires unblemished purity of manners and of heart, they think themselves boimd to keep within the limits prescribed by their heavenly Master, and to allow themselves no gratifications but those which he has pronounced lavrful and honorable. Hence they arc of- ten induced to contract early marriages, and find them- selves surrounded by a numerous family before they are provided Vv^ith the means of supporting them. At the same time they are expected to live creditably, and to maintain a decent hospitality amongst their neighbors. To them the poor, the sick, the distressed part of their flock, naturally look up, as their chief refuge and sup- port ; and in some small villages (if you except paro- chial relief) the minister of the parish is almost the only resource they have. These demands he is commonly inclined to answer to the utmost of his power. Per- haps, too, he may have the misfortune of a little taste for books, which is not indulged without expense ; and from his acquaintance with the best and purest writers of antiquity, as well as from the habits and connections of his early years, he may have acquired sentiments SERMON XXV. 32f and feelings far beyond the straitness of his circum- stances, and the humility of his condition. Hence, besides the large sums which he is often obliged to ex- pend on the necessary repairs of his parsonage, he may possibly be induced to add a few conveniences to it; he may cx'cn be tempted, by the natural beauties of its situation, to expend more in improving and adorning his little territories, and in rendering them comfortable and defightful to himself and those that follow him, than in strict prudence he ought. In a few years his sons must be sent to schools and universities, or to trades and professions : and if, perchance, he should be ambitious of giving his daughters also a few useful ac- complishments, let us pardon him this wrong ; it is the only fortune he can give them. These expenses neces- sarily oblige him to anticipate his narrow income, and to contract, perhaps a considerable debt ; a load which often lies so heavy upon his mind, that it brings him prematurely down with sorrow to the grave. Then it is that his wife and children find themselves plunged not only in the severest affliction, but in embarrass- ments out of \\'hich they are utterly imable to extricate themselves. It is then the widow may, with but too much propriety, address herself to every one of us in the words of the text, " Thy servant my husband is *' dead, and thou knowcst that thy servant did fear the *' Lord, and the crcdior is come to take unto him my *' two sons to be bond-men." Her children cannot, indeed, in this land of freedom, be literally carried into bondage ; but it is necessary, both for their subsistence and her's, that they should all, in one way or other, be taken away from her, and subjected probably to much harsher usage than they had hitherto experienced. The head is gone, and the little society is dissolved ; they must quit the beloved mansion where they have spent their lives, and which they have made so neat and cheer- ful at their own cost, perhaps Vv-ith the labor of their own hands. The small remnant of i)ooks and furniture, that constituted all their wealth, iht y see disposed of for the benefit of their creditors ; and tlien — tiicy ha\e no- Ss 330 SERMON XX^. thing to do but to disperse themselves where they caw to seek support. In this critical moment it is that these charitable es- tablishments open their friendly arms to receive them and each bears its respective part in ministering to their necessities*-. The Incorporate Society takes the wi- dow under its immediate protection, and allows her a decent pension so long as her condition and her cir- cumstances continue unchanged. The Society of Steiv- ards and Subscribers, instituted in the year 1749, un- dertakes the maintenance and education of her children, till they are of age to be apprenticed ; and when they are of sufficient age, The Society of the Feast of the So?is of the Clergy provides them w|th proper masters, and puts them into a way of obtaining a comfortable subsistence, and becoming useful members of society. Thus you see, each of these excellent institutions has its proper use and peculiar department ; and all of them concur in forming one noble comprehensive plan of national charity. But this plan can never be carried into execution without the aid of the wealthy and the great. The Corporation has indeed a fund of its own ; but this fund, without occasional donations and bene- factions, would be very inadequate to the objects that stand in need of its assistance. As to the other two humane societies, one of u hich educates the poor or- phans w hich the other places out in the world, these I say, are entirely supported by voluntary contributions and subscriptions ; and you will not, I am sure, through an ill-judged parsimony, " suffer any of our " little ones to perishf." Yet, notwithstanding the apparent utility, and even necessity, of these benevolent foundations, their friends have with no small concern observed, that they ha\'e for some time past been rather losing ground than gaining it. For this, various reasons have been as- signed ; but none, I apprehend, of sufficient Aveight to abate any thing of our ardor in support of such gen- erous designs. It has been thought by some, that ' Sec the note above page 320, 321. f Matt. ::Yiii. 14. SERMON XXV. 531 ithere is now the less need for a (general contribution of this nature for the widows and children of the cler- gy, because there are in particular dioceses several lo- cal institutions of the same kind. It is true there are ; but they are not near so universal as might be wished : they reach only, 1 conceive, to a small part of the kini^*- dom, and their. operation is of course confined within a narrow compass. But were they much more nume- rous tiian they are, were they even spread through every part of the island, yet still this original parent of them all ought to be preserved and fostered with religious veneration and care. For the growing increase of ex- pense in many necessary articles of life, makes a pro- portionable increase in the wants of the poorer clergy, which by this means keep pace with the provisions made in their f ivor ; and they can but ill spare the loss of any assistance, whether general or local, which •they have been accustomed to receive. There is still another circumstance which may have contributed to the decrease of our collections, and that is the great number of other public charities of various kinds, which have of late years been established in this kingdom. And if this is really the case, we must not, we do not, complain. If others cannot be benefited but by our loss, we are content. But when we find ourselves in the very center of the richest commercial city in the world*, we cannot possibly entertain the least apprehensions on this head. In any other place^ perhaps, there might be room to fear that the stream of beneficence, v.hen divided into several new channels, might forsake the old. But be these channels ever so numerous, your liberality can fill them all. It is as in- exhaustible as your wealth, which is daily flowing in upon you from every quarter of the globe, and can en- rich and fertilize a vast variety of different regions at the same time. Let then other charities spring up in whatever numbers they will ; we look not upon them with an envious or a jealous eye ; we consider them • This sermon was preached in St. Paul's cliurch, in the presence of the iiord Mayor, Alderniaii, &c. of the city of London. 532 SERMON XXV. not as rivals, but as sharers, in your bounty, which is able to embrace both them and us. Far from wish- ing to discourage, far from wishing to depreciate, other benevolent institutions, and to form invidious compari- sons between them and ours, we sincerely wish them^ on the contrary, all imaginable success, in full confi- dence that in a capital like this it will not, it cannot,, be any obstruction to our own. You yourselves are our witnesses, that there are none more ready ta coun- tenance every humane design than the English clergy*. There is hardly one public charity to be named that has not some of our order amongst its friends and sup- porters ; and if we have any gifts of eloquence, any powers of persuasion to boast, they are always ready at your call to recommend every generous plan that you think fit to patronize ; your schools, your hospi- tals, your sick, your prisoners, your poor. That as- sistance, then, which we are ever disposed to give, we now hope in our turn to receive. Strike out into as many different paths of benevolence as you please ; yet desert not, we beseech you, the old, the tried, the ap- proved one, to which you have been so long accus- tomed. This charity! has always been your favorite child ; it has been born and bred amongst you ; yoii have hitherto nursed and cherished it with the tendcrest care ; do not now abandon it to the wide world, where it is not yet strong enough to make its way without your help. You have seen, I trust, upon the whole, that they for whose families we beg relief, " are worthy for *' whom you should do thisj:'^ that those on whom they depended for support and whose help they have lost, were, both by profession and by principle, most useful members of society ; and yet were unable to leave their children any other inheritance than that of * One very recent and remarkable proof of this ought not to be passed over in silence. Mr. Hetherington, a private clergyman, gave birth, within, these few years, to a new and most judicious species of charity. He es- tablished an annual provision for fifty blind persons, and appropriated, in bis: Ufe-time, to this excellent purpose, a fund of twenty thousand pounds. •}• Icluding the three dififerent branches of it abovenieationed, p. i)2Q, S22,. 1 Luke vii. 4. SERMON XXV. 333 extreme poverty, aggravated by the remembrance of happier days, and by minds susceptible of the keenest feelings. May these considerations have their due in- fluence on your hearts ! And may u e, my reverend brethren, never forget that it is in our power, by our future conduct, to give these considerations whatever weight we think fit ! If we do not give them all we can ; if, in proportion as we stand more in need of public favor, we do not redouble our endeavors to de- serve it ; by a discreet inoffensive behavior and con- versation, by residence on our preferments, by a close attention to tlie proper studies and functions of our profession, by fervent piety, by extensive charity, by meekness and humility, by a disinterested and ardent zeal for the advancement of religion, and the salvation of mankind ; if, I say, by these, and such-like evan- gelical virtues, we do not support the credit of our character, and by real usefulness acquire veneration and esteem ; we shall be no less blind to our interest, than unmindful of our diity both to God and man*. • See Archbishop Seeker's trtily pastoral Giiarges throughout ; which well Reserve the serious attention of every sincere and conscientious clergyman i* tfye^ rank of the profession. '"•II SERMON XXVL EcCLESIASTES XH. 1. Reineniber now thy Creator in the days of thy yonth. THE reason why we are here, and in other places of Scripture, more particularly enjoined to remember God in our youth, is obvious ; it is, because we are then most apt to forget him. Indeed, in every stage of life as well as this, the cares and pleasures of the world too often engross our chief attention, and banish for a while the remembrance of our Maker. But it is in youth only we seem to be sunk in a total forget- fulness of Religion, and " to have not God in all our "thoughts." In a more advanced age, reason becomes so strong, or appetite so weak, that even in the busiest and the gayest scenes, we must have some intervals of thinking, we must have our solitary and serious mo- ments, in which the idea of a God will recur and force itself upon our minds. The calamities and disappoint- ments which we meet with, as we travel forwards in this vale of tears, the loss of friends or of fortune, acute pains, and lingering diseases, are so many awakening instances of our weakness and dependence, and compel us, in spite of indolence or pride, to look up to Hea- ven, and our Father that is in Heaven, for assistance and protection. But in youth, these faithful monitors are wanting ; there are, then, generally speaking, no cares or afflictions to remind us of our Creator, and bring us to a just sense of our duty. The novelty of the objects that successively surround us at our first entrance into life, supplies us with a perpetual fund of SERMON XXVI. 335 CTitertainment ; and an uninterrupted fio\v' of health and spirits *' fills our mouth with laughter, and our tongue •' with joy." We find ourselves happy, and consider not who it was that made us so ; we find ourselves in a wide theatre of action, and without thinking how we are to perform our respective parts upon it, survey with rapture those enchanting scenes that every where open to our view, and launch out in pursuit of the pleasures that are before us with so much eagerness and prccipi- tation, as to leave no time either to trace them back- wards to their source, or forwards to their consequences. From these false steps in our setting cut, flow most of the fatal errors and miscarriages of our future conduct; and for want of a little recollection when we are young, we too often lay up a store of misery for the remaining part of our existence here, and for all eternity here- after. Since, then, in our early years, we are for the most part destitute of those useful mementos, and those favorable seasons of recollection, ^hich occur so often in the other parts of life; and are, therefore, more particular- ly prone to forget our Maker at a time when it least becomes us so to do, the admonition contained in the text must seem highly proper, and cannot be too often inculcated, in orcler to supply, in some measure, that unhappy insensibility, that inattention to every thing serious and religious, which is so generally observable, and so much complained of, in youth. No man could be more sensible of this, or more seriously lament it, than the royal preacher from whom these words are taken. He saw a melancholy instance of it in the conduct of his own son, who bei'-an now probably to give some indications of that fiery and ungovernable temper, which afterwards proved so fatal to himself, and to his kingdom. He, therefore, urges the necessity of remembering God in our youth, not only with ail the authority of an experienced sage, and an inspired writer but v^ ith all the' tenderness of a parent solicitous for the welfare and prosperity of his child. 556 SERMON XXVI. And this may, perhaps, be one reason of those fre- quent and pressing exhortations to an early piety, which are every where scattered up and doAvn in his writings. They had, however, no doubt, a view to the depravity of youth in general, as well as of Reho- boam in particular ; and as we may, I think, venture to say, that there is at least as much occasion for a re- peated injunction of this duty in the present times, as in the days of Solomon, it shall be the business of this dis- course to recommend and enforce an early piety, by showing, first, the reasonableness and propriety of it j and, secondly, by pointing out some of the principal advantages which vvill attend the practice of it. I. First, then, I am to show the reasonableness and propriety of remembering our Creator in the days of our youth. And here it is evident, that by remembering our Creator, we are not merely to understand a habit of re- calling the bare idea of him to our mind, or a cold, lifeless contemplation of his existence, but such a fer- vent, affectionate, grateful remembrance, as is some- times kindled in our breasts by thinking on an absent or a departed friend, when every tender circumstance of that endearing connection rushes in upon the soul, and all his friendly offices, all the pleasing instances of his love and kindness towards us, present themselves at once to our view. We must not only remember that he is, but that he is our Creator, and that with all those sentiments of piety and love, which such a relation na- turally suggests. We must remember that he gave us life and all its blessings, all that we actually enjoy here or hope to enjoy hereafter ; and we must show the reality of this remembrance by making a suitable return for such invaluable favors. For even in the m(>st familiar forms of speaking, to remember a kindness is to re- quite it ; and the only return that a creature can make to his Creator, is an uniform obedience to his will, and a punctual observance of all his kins. But that v.hich the text more particularly recommends to the young man, is the remembrance of Gck.1 as bis Creator, rot SEnMON XXVI. 337 bnly because the communication of existence of course includes every other blessing, but because this considera- tion is more peculiarly adapted to the circumstances of those to whom the precept is addressed. For if even when life is become familiar to us, ^vhen we have tasted its sorrows as Avell as its joys, the remembrance of our Creator is yet apt sometimes to excite the warmest re- turns of gratitude and devotion, how ought this reflection to work on the hearts of those who are,-as it were, fresh from the hands of their Maker, and unacquainted with every thing in life but its blessings ? How can the young man forbear breaking out with the' royal psalm- ist into that passionate overflowing of a grateful heart ; *' Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within " me praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my *' soul, and forget not all his benefits : who forgi- *' veth all thy sins, and healeth all thine infirmities ; *' who saveth thy life from destruction, ,and crowneth " thee with mercy and loving kindness ; who satisfieth *' thy mouth with good things, making thee young and " lusty as an eagle*." One would imagine, indeed, that instead of thinking it could ever be too soon, men should rather fear it would be always full late, to remem- ber their Creator, and that life itself would be short enough for making returns to his unbounded mercies. Yet such is the strange perverseness, shall I call it, or thoughdessness of youth, that the goodness of God gen- erally produces a quite contrary effect ; and that profu- sion of happiness, which ought t6 bind them for ever to his service, is the very thing that supplants him in their affections, and banishes the remembrance of him from their minds. Their pleasures and pursuits follow so close upon one another, as to leave no room for any se- rious reflections to intervene ; or if, by chance, any religious thought intrude upon the series of their joys, they instantly dismiss the unbidden, unwelcome guest, with the answer of Felix to Paul ; " Go thy way for *' this time, when we have a convenient season we will ** send for thee." But let not the young man flatter him- • Psalm ciii. 1, 2, 3, 4. 5. T t S38 SERMON XXVL self that any season is so convenient as the present, of that God will be content with the dregs of life, and the refuse of his years ; let him not foolishly imagine, that after having spent his best days in the service of sin, the wretched remains of them are an offering fit for his Creator ; or that a soul polluted with guilt, and a body emaciated with disease, will be accepted at the al- tar of the Almighty. No ; he demands the first and foirest of all our days, the first and purest motions of the heart ; the first fruits " of that vineyard which his *' right hand hath planted, and of the branch that he *' made so sti*ongfor himself*." It can be, indeed, but little proof of our loyalty not to rebel against our Sovereign, when we have not strength to take up arms, and there are no temptations to make us swerve from our allegiance ; but if, when we are in our full strength and vigor ; when the danger is near, and the enemy at the gate, trying every method to subdue our virtue, and corrupt our fidelity ; if we then withstand in the evil day, reject his offers, re- pel his violence, elude his stratagems, and baffle all his attempts, we shall then, indeed, show ourselves good subjects and faithful soldiers of our heavenly Master ; we shall have fought the good fight of faith ^ and v/hen death shall release us from our station, may humbly hope to receive, through the merits of our Redeemer, the wages of our Christian warfare ; not those perishable crowns, and that visionary immortali- ty, which are the poor rewards of earthly heroes, but a crown of glory that fadeth not away, a real immortality of happiness in Heaven. But this consideration more properly belongs to the second head, under which I proposed to consider some of the principal advantages arising from a course of early piety. li. And first ; he M'ho remembers his Creator in the days of his youth, may depend upon it, that his Cre- ator will not forget him all the days of his life. A reli- gious young person is above all others, peculiarly ac- » Piial. Ixxx. 15. SERMON XXVI. 539 ceptable to the Almighty ; an object upon which he looks down Avithaneyc of uncommon favor and appro- bation. There cannot, indeed, be conceived a specta- cle more great and lovely, than to see a young man struggling with the temptations of the world, the ty- ranny of custom, the solicitations of evil company, and the strength of evil passions. To see him not " mean- " ly following a multitude to do evil," but bravely stemming the popular torrent ; and whilst those around him deviate either on the one hand into the beaten road of vice, or on the other into the endless mazes of gaiety and folly ; to see him left standing alone with virtue in the midst, and daring to be singularly good. To see the >'igor of his understanding not sunk in sen- suality, or dissipated in trifles, but rising to the noblest pursuits after truth and ^'irtue ; and the alacrity of his spirits not exhausted in the wild sallies of intemperate mirth, in ruining his own and others' innocence, and disturbing the peace and order of society ; but exert- ing itself in the most lively display of every generous and social duty, in giving life to his devotions, and achieving the conquest over his passions. To see him, in short, sacrificing the flower of his days, his gaieties, his pleasures, and diversions, at the altar of his Crea- tor ; and in spite of the impotent wit and raillery of his gay companions, in spite of all the obstructions that the wickedness of man, or the deceitfulness of his own heart, can throw in his way, steadily and resolutely per- severing in a uniform course of piety and virtue to die last. It cannot fail, but such an one must, in the ordinary course of things, draw down upon himself the choi- cest blessings of Heaven. He sets out in life with fair- er prospects and greater advantag;es than all liis rival contemporaries, with tlie blessing of God upon all his undertakings, and a moral assurance, that whatsoever he doeth, it shall prosper. And it must surely be a most comfortable reflection to him, that " he thus ." grows under the defence of the Most High, and ** flourishes under the shadow of the Almighty." It 34Q SERMON XXVI. must give life to all his designs, inspire him with a manly fortitude in all his resolutions, and diffuse an even cheerfulness and composure through his whole deportment, whilst, like his blessed Master in the same period of life, " he grows in stature and in wis- *' dom, and in flivor with Gotl and man*-." 2. By remembering God in our youth, we save the pains of recollecting him in old age, " when the evil "days come," (as come they assuredly will) "in *' which we shall say, we have no pleasure in them.'* If religion is a lesson we must some time or other learn, we cannot begin too soon. It is not a thing to be taken up at our leisure, a work to be done when we have nothing else to do ; but will find full employment for all the time and pains we^ can bestow upon it. Youth is the time when the seeds of every Christian grace and virtue are to be sown in our hearts. If we neglect this favorable season, and suffer the tares to spring up in their room, we shall not only have the painful task of implanting new affections and new de- sires in a worn-out soil, but of eradicating the old ones ; and that, too, when they have grown up with us so long, and are so interwoven with our very con- stitutions, that to rend them away from the soul, will be like plucking out an eye, or tearing off a limb from the body. The Scriptures have labored to express, i|i the strongest terms, t'^e extreme difficulty of such an undertakinQ-, and made use ot" the boldest figures to in^press a deep sense of it upon our minds. They call such a reformation in an advanced age, " beco- *' ming a new creature, putting off the old man and put- *' ting on the new," and compare it to " the leopard " changing its spots, and the Ethiopian his skinf." Indeed the great hardship of the task may well justify such expressions ;, and if any one considers what pains it costs him to wean himself even from the most whimsical and trifling customs which he has accident- ally acquired and long indulged, he will easily con- ceive what inward pangs and agonies he must undergo, * Luke ii. 52. t 2 Cor. v. 17. Ephes. iv. 22. 24. Jer. xiii. 23- SERMON XXVI. 341 before he can entirely eradicate habits that are grafted on the strongest natural desires ; and effect such a to- tal change in the whole frame and temper, in the color and complexion of his mind, as is absolutely necessary to render his reformation effectual. We are told, indeed, in Scripture, that " the ways *' of Religion are ways of pleasantness, and that all her *' paths are peace ;" and so they most certainly are ; but it is to those only who have been accustomed to walk in them from their youth up. The gate that leadeth to this way is narrow and strait, and the road, at first, so rugged and uneven, that if we do not enter upon it till " the day is far spent, and the night draweth *' on," we shall neither have time nor strength to sur- mount the many obstacles we shall meet with. But if the young man sets out in the morning of life, the freshness of his strength and spirits, aided by the in- iluences of divine grace, M'ill carry him through every difficulty. As he advances forwards, his toil grows less ; the asperities of the way gradually disappear ; the path grows w ider, and the prospect opens, till he sees at last, with the eye of faith, that land of promise to which he hastens ; a sight that cheers and revives him ; when after the labors of his journey, his soul begins to faint within him. And this suggests to us a third advantage resulting from an early sense of Re- ligion, namely, the satisfaction and comfort it will af- ford us on the bed of death. 3. However the young libertine may now^ boast him- self, and triumph in his impiety, and laugh at the scru- pulous timidity of those who deny themselves a tliou- sand pleasures, which he boldly snatches without hesi- tation or remorse, yet there will come a time, and God knows how soon it may come, when his heart will quake for fear, when he will believe and tremble. Nor must he vainly flatter himself that the evil day is far off, or that when it does come, he shall face it with the same steadiness and intrepidity with which he now affronts his Maker. For whilst he sees " thousands even of >' his own age, fall beside him, and ten thousand at his 342 SERMON XXVI. " right hand," how can he be sure that the danger will not come nigh him, especially as he takes the surest method to bring it near him, ;ind to quicken the pace of death by his intemperance. It must, however, at last overtake him ; and when it does, all his vaunted courage will at once desert him. The stoutest hearts will fail, and the fiercest spirits will be broken^ when that dreadful day arrives. Our own history, and that of other nations, will furnish us with abundant instan- ces, where the boldest chiefs in iniquity, who have glo- ried in the most open and avowed contempt of Reli- gion, have yet been so utterly dismayed at the approach of death, as to sink into the most abject superstition and unmanly complaints. It is not that enterprizing spirit which carries a man so successfully through this ■\vorld, that will avail him in his entrance on the next. Nothing can then support him amidst the terrors of dissolution, and the pangs of parting with all that is dear and near to him, but the reflection on a well- spent life ; and as we shall stand in need of every possible increase of comfort, we ought to sweeten this reflection all we can, by beginning early to remember God, For we must not imagine, what some are willing to per- suade themselves, that a death-bed repentance will have the same effect upon our minds in our last moments, as a life of early piety or early repentance. They who think so, show themselves to be utter strangers to the real situation of a dying man. They know not the terror and amazement, the fears and apprehensions, of a soul that stands tremblins; on the brink of eternity, and whose salvation depends on a death-bed repentance. He fears, he knows not what, about the sincerity of that repentance ; he fears his contrition may not have been deep enough, his amendment not complete ; that some crimes may not have appeared to him in their full guilt and baseness, and some may have entirely es- caped his search. He enhances every real danger, and creates to himself a thousand more ; and whatever may be the eflicacy of that repentance, with regard to his future co:idition, it cannot in Mi's present yield him that SERMON XXVI. 343 comfortable hope, that humble conficlcnce in the me- rits of his Redeemer, which is absoliltely necessary to the quiet of the mind, in so interesting a point. This can only be the result of a life, in which, upon the most important review, there appears nothing to lument but those frailties and infirmities \; hich man cannot but sometimes fall into, and which God, through the me- diation and death of Christ, has most graciously pro- mised to forgive. And in this review, the further we can cast our eyes backwards on our sincere, though imperfect endeavors after holiness, and the nearer we can trace up the beginning of our religious obedience to the beginning of life, the more pleasing will be the retrospect, the more unallajed our satisfaction. Every impulse of passion we have subdued, every tem.ptatiou we have resisted or escaped, every evil thought we have restrained, and every good one we have encoura- ged, will then each rise up to befriend us, and speak peace to our affrighted souls. And though the reli- gious young man may now, perhaps, complain of the difficulties he hath to struggle with, yet let him remem- ber, that the bitterer his present sensations are, the more joyful will be his reflections at that momentous period. It is then, in short, and only then, we see the true difference between hiih that serveth God in his youth, and him that serveth him not ; and whoever compares their different circumstances and behavior on that trying occasion, will most sincerely >wish " that *' he may die the death of the righteous, and that his *' latter end may be like his." But let us remember, that it is not a mere inactive ivisb alone that can pro- cure us this inestimable blessing ; let us remember, that if we would die the death of the righteous, we must seriously resolve and endeavor from our youth up, to live his life, and that the best preparation for a latter end like his, will be to take care that our early years be like his also. SERMON XXVII, 1 Kings xviii. 21, Jnd Elijah came unto all the people^ and said, How long halt ijr between two ojiivions ? If the Lord be God, follow him ; hut if Baal, then follow him. NOTWITHSTANDING the many expres,s com- mands given to the Jews to worship the one only true God, and the many admirable provisions mflde in their law to preserve them from the adoration of any other; yet it is notorious, that from the time of their lea- ving Egypt, down to the Babylonish captivity, they were frequently falling into idolatry. It must be observed, however, that this idolatryof theirs, wicked and inex- cusable as it undoubtedly was, did not consist in abso- lutely renouncing the worship of the true God, but in joining with it the worship of false gods. This they did in imitation of the heathen nations around them, who, like all other pagans, though they had each their peculiar tutelary deities, yet made no scruple of asso- ciating those of any other people along with them. In conformity to which accommodating temper, the Jews themselves probably considering the God of Israel as their national God, imagined that their allegiance to him was not violated by admitting other local deities to a share in his worship. It was this absurd and im- pious custom of joining the adoration of idols to that of the true God, against which we find so many precepts and exhortations in the Old Testament directed, and SERMON XXVII. 345 such severe punishments denounced. And in opposi- tion to this strange practice it was, that Ehjah proposes to the idolatrous ^Vhab and his people, an effectual me- thod of deciding which was the true God, Jehovah or Baal ; and he introduces his proposal a\ ith that spirited expostulation, contained in the words of the text. " How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord " be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him." This was in effect, saying. How long will ye act this base disiTigenuous part, of attempting to serve two masters, and to worship at once both the Lord and Baal ? The Lord is a jealous God, He demands your whole affection. He will not be served by halves ; he will not accept of a divided empire with Baal. Chuse ye, then, whom you will serve, and no longer halt be- tween two directly opposite and inconsistent opinions. If you are persuaded (and never had any people more reason to be persuaded) that the Lord Jehovah, the great Creator of Heaven and earth, is the only true God, act agreeably to such persuasion. Follow him, and him only ; serve him sincerely, uniformly, and entirely, ' with all your heart, and soul, and mind, and strength : and live a life of virtue and holiness, in obedience to his commands. But if, on the contrary, you can, in op- position to the plainest and strongest evidence, bring yourselves seriously to believe that Baal is God, follow him. Follow him (if your nature recoil not at it) through all those impure and detestable practices which his ^vorship authorizes and requires. But come not thus reeking with idolatry to the altar of the Lord. He will accept of no sacrifices from such polluted hands. Baal is then your God, and you are his people. To him alone offer up your vows ; from him only expect the supply of all your wants, and deliverance from all your calamities. The observation naturally arising from the text thus explained, is this : That as God would not allow a par- tial worship under the Mosaic dispensation, neither will he admit of partial faith, and parlial obedience, un- der the Christian covenant. Uu 346 SERMON XXVII. He w]io was the God of the Jews, is also the God of the Christians ; has from the same invariable pre emi- nence of his divine nature, the same claim to our entire and unreserved submission to his will, is equally jea- lous of his own glory and of our allegiance, and equally averse to any rival in our affections, and our services. It was the duty of the Jew to believe and obey the whole law of Moses. It is the duty of the Christian to believe and obey the whole law of Christ. In op- position to the doctrines and duties of the Mosaic law, stood the extravagant conceits of Gentile theology, and the execrable impurities and barbarities of idolatrous worship. In opposition to the doctrines and duties of the Gospel, stand the fanciful refinements of modern philosophy, and the allurements of a sinful world, which are now too frequently distracting the belief, and di- viding the obedience of Christians, as superstition and idolatry did formerly those of the Jews. And it is no more allowable to halt in our belief between deism and revelation, and in our practice betv/een God and" Mam- mon, than it was in the Jews formerly to foliov/ at once both the Lord and^ Eaa.L The text, therefore, when divested of all peculiarity of circumstance, and brought home to ourselves, affords this general and use- ful principle, that we should not v,'aver between two systems, and endeavor to serve at the same time two masters ; but entirely devote ourselvqs either to the one or the other, and stand to all the consequences of our choice. This admonition seems not improperly calculated for the state of Religion among ourselves at this day, and may be applied Vvith equal justice both to our faith and practice. But I shall, in this discourse, confine my obser- vations almost entirely to the latter, as being the most useful, and the best suited to the business of this place. For although much might be said respecting strange conceits in matters of faith ; although there are, it is well known, in this cormtry, as well as in others, a few individuals who think themselves at liberty to select out of the Gospel, fur their creed, just what happens to SERMON XXVir. 347 suit their particular humor or cr,pricc, and to reject all the rest, and may therefore very justly be said to " halt *' between two opinions ;" yet the number of these per- sons is so inconsiderable, and the reception their te- nets meet with is so very unpromisini^, tiiat to bestow much of our attention upon them, \\ould be a very needless waste of time. Much less can it be necessary to enter here into any confutation of their fanciful opi- nions. They have been confuted, most effectually confuted, above seventeen hundred years as^o, and that, too, by a book whicli is, or ought to be, in the hands of every Christian ; 1 mean the Bible: • Every page of that sacred voUime bears testimony, against them ; and it is utterly impossible for any man of a plain under- standing, and of an unprejudiced mind, to look into the Gospel without perceiving, that all those great and important doctrines, wliich our philosophic Christians are pleased to reject (and which, in fact, amount to al- most every peculiar doctrine of the Gospel, except tliat of tlie resurrection) arc taught and repeatedly in- culcated in the sacred ^vritings, in terms as clear, ex- plicit, and unequivocal, as it is in the power of language to express. They are, in fact, so interwoven with the very frame and constitution, with the entire substance and essence of Christianity, that they must stand or fall together. They are found in the same Gospel, and are intimately blended and incorporated with those moral precepts, and those evidences of a resurrection and a future state, which are on all sides allowed to be divine ; and there is no such thing as separating them from each other, no such thing as dissolving the con- nection between them, witiiout undermining the whole fabric of Christianity, and defeating the chief purposes for which Christ came into the world. Let no one, then, that professes himself a disciple of Christ, ever be induced to fluctuate thus between two systems. Let him never listen to any such de- ceitful terms of accommodation with "the vain phi- " losophy of this world," nor suffer himself to be led ?.way by " the delusions of science, falsely so called." 348 SEKMON XXVII, i;et him never consent to maim and mutilate that com^ -plete and perfect body of Christian doctrine, which *' is so fitly framed together, and compacted by that *' which every joint suppheth," that to take away any one member, is to destroy the beauty, strength, and stabihty of the whole. Thus much may suffice at present for those who, in ■the language of the text, may be said to halt between (%vo opinions, between the Religion of nature and the Religion of Christ. I now hasten to that which is the principal object of this discourse, the j&r^c^/V/]:/ incon- sistencies with which some men are chargeable. For, among the professors of our faith, there are too many who, though their speculative opinions may be right »nd uniform, yet in their practice halt between two opposite modes of conduct, and endeavor to serve at the same time two masters, God and Mammon. Isay nothing here of those who are professedly men of the world, who disclaim all belief in the doc- trines of the Gospel, and all obedience to its laws. These men have taken their part, have adopted a sys- tem. A miserable one, indeed, it is ; but it is, how- ever, a decided one ; and whatever other guilt they may be chargeable with, inconsistence certainly is not one of their faults, In this respect the children of this world are in their generation commonly wiser than the children of light, among whom, unfortunately, the same undeviating uniformity of conduct is not often to be found. Of those who acknowledge Christ to be their lord and mas- ter, how few are there that adhere to him invariably throughout, without ever revolting from their allegi- ance, and devoting themselves to another sovereign, *' the prince of this world !" One man finding it said in Scripture, that charity shall cover a multitude of sins, without ever once gi- ving himself the trouble to examine into the true meaning of that doubtful expression, takes refuge un- der the letter of it, and on the strength of a little osten- tatious generosity, indulges every irregular passion SERMON XXVIT. 349 ivithout control, and fancies himself all the while a seri- ous sober Christian. A second, rather shocked at this, keeps clear of all gross and flagrant enormities ; but hopes that a few se- cret and less presumptuous sins will be easily forgiven him. A third, still more modest and more scrupulous, contents himself u ith one favorite vice, and makes not the least doubt but that his exact observance of the di- vine law, in other respects, will amply atone for his fail- ure in this single instance. A fourth advances one step further than this ; he in- dulges himself in no gratification that seems to deserve the name of sin ; but, at the same time, allows the gaieties, the amusement, the business or the cares of life, to take entire possession of his soul, to shut out, in a great measure, all thoughts of God and Religion, and steal away his affections from Heaven and heavenly things. Lasdv ; there is another class of men ^vho are irreproachable in their morals, and sufficiently tempe- rate, perhaps, in their pursuits of business or of amuse- ment, but yet fall short of that steady and affectionate attachment to their divine Master, which his Religion inculcates, and his kindness demands. They want that zeal and fervor, that earnestness and activity in his service, that absolute resignation to his will, that per- fect confidence in his infinite wisdom and goodness, that freedom from all immoderate anxiety and solici- tude, hope or fear, exultation or disappointment re- specting the various events of the present life, which are the surest and most unequivocal proofs, that this world has little or no share in our affections, but that our treasure is in Heaven, and there is our heart also. Thus it is, that too many in almost every denomina- tion of professed Christians do, in one way or another, in a greater or less degree, '* halt between two oppo- " site rules of life," divide their attention between the commands of Christ, and the criminal, or the trifling enjoyments of the present scene, endeavor to accom- .350 SERMON XXVII. modate matters as commodiously as possible, between things temporal and things eternal ; and to take as much as they can oF this world, without losing their hold on the rewards of the next. But let no man im- pose on himself with these delusive imaginations. Such duplicity of conduct is as evidently contrary both to the letter and the spirit of Christ's Religion, and as justly obnoxious to the reproof conveyed in the text, as the fault already touched upon of " halting between " two opinions." Whoever looks into the Gospel, with the least degree of attention, must see, that it re- xjuires us to give up our whole soul to God, and pay an unreserved and undivided obedience to all his com- mands. The language of Christianity to its disciples is like that of Solomon in his Proverbs, " My son give '' me thine heart*." We are commanded " to set our *' affections on things above, and not on things on the *' earth : to have our conversation in Heaven ; to love " God with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and *' strength ; to take up our cross and follow Christ ; to " leave father, mother, brethren, sisters, houses and " lands, for his name's sake, and the Gospel'sf." These, and such like expressions, are, it is well known, perpetually occurring in the sacred writings. And al- though ^ve are not to understand them so literally, and so rigorously, as to conceive ourselves obliged to re- nounce the world absolutely, and all its rational and innocent enjoyments, to retire into deserts and caves, and think of nothing but the concerns of eternity ; yet, if we allow these phrases any meaning, they cannot im- ply less than this ; that our chief and principal con- cern, beyond all comparison, must be to please and obey our Maker in all things ; that we must seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness ; that we must look up to his law^ as the great guide and govern- ing principle of our lives ; that we must not vibrate perpetually between two masters, between two oppo- site modes of conduct, between vice and virtue, be- * Prov. xxiii. 26. f Col. iii. 2. Phil. iii. 2\ Mark xii. 30. Matlh. xvi. 24 xix. 29. SERMON XXVir. 551 tu'een piety and pleasure, between inclination and duty, between this life and the next ; but devote ourselves heartily and sincerely to the service of our heavenly Father, and suffer no one earthly object to estrange or draw away our affections from him. The only way, then, for a wise and a good man to take, is to preserve that uniformity and consistence, and dignity of character, both in opinion and in prac- tice, which is in all cases respectable ; in the Christian Religion essential and indispensable. You must, in short, as Joshua said to the Jewish people, " you must " chuse, this day, whom you will serve." You must take your part, and adhere to it steadily and invariably throughout. If, in the first place, with respect to doctrines and matters of belief, you think that you are innocent and ])erfect creatures, that } ou stand in need of no Re- deemer, no Mediator, no expiation for your past, no assistance for your future conduct ; that revelation is needless, and reason alone sufficient for all the good purposes of this life and the next, then follow reason, and be consistent \\ith yourselves. Do not repose the least part of your hopes on Christ. You have nothing to do vv'ith him or his Gospel. You can claim nothing under his name ; by your ov\n merits you must stand or fall ; must go boldly and with confidence up to the throne of God, and demand from his justice, as a matter of right, that pardon and those rewards which you dis- dain to receive from his mercy as a matter of grace. But if your minds revolt against such presumption as this; if you feel yourselves corrupt and sinful, the children of vanity and the sport of passions, continually transa:ressinG: the dictates even of your own reason, and of course continually deserving punishment from the Giver of that reason ; if you find that something more than mere modern philosophy is necessary to heal the depravity of your nature, to reconcile you to an oiTend- cd God, to assist you in the performance of your duty, to support you under the severest afflictions, and to satisfy the cruvin'js of vour soul ^\ ith that fulness of 352 SERMON XXVII. joy which the world, and all the world's wisdom, can never give ; if, in fine, you perceive that the Gospel of Christ contains every thing you want, and that the truth of its pretensions is founded on such sort of evidence as no man upon earth was ever yet deceived by trusting to in any other case, then follow Christ ; take him for your only guide in religious knowledge, and repose an entire and absolute confidence in his holy word. When once you are persuaded that he is an inspired teacher, and that he and his Religion came from God, no doctrines, however difficult or mysteri- ous, how much soever they transcend reason, if not re- pugnant to it, will be any obstacles in your way. You will receive them all with implicit reverence and sub- mission, on the sole ground of his testimony. The only question to be asked respecting such doctrines is this : Do they actually exist in the Gos.pel ? Is there sufficient evidence for the authenticity of that Gospel ? If there be, and this we have ail along supposed, the dispute is decided, and you can no longer hesitate re- specting the admission of truths grounded on such authority. In the same manner, with respect to practice. If you admit the reality of a future existence, and a fu- ture day of recompence, and if after deliberately com- paring this life with the next, you do, in your best and soberest judgment, think that present enjoyments are more valuable than future and eternal happiness, and a little self-denial in this world more insupportable than everlasting misery in the next, then let this world be the sole idol of your hearts ; to this devote yourselves without reserve. It would then be folly to sacrifice any pleasures, any advantages to the commands of your Maker, or to let one thought about futurity disturb you.r tranquillity, or interrupt your pursuits. But if you find this to be impossible ; if you feel Yourselves to be designed for immortalitv ; if you can- not forbear looking perpetually forward into futurity ; if to these sentiments of Nature, Reason adds her voice, and l\e\ elation confirms it bv evidence that is irresisti- SERMON XXVir. 353 blc ; if, moreover, on a fliir estimate of the respective value of things temporal, and things eternal, you are convinced that the pains and the pleasures of this world are not worthy to be compared with the rewards and punishments of the next ; if, in fine, the limited na- ture of the human faculties, the contrary tempers of mind, and courses of action, which contrary pursuits require, and the express declarations of Christ him- self, prove incontestably that we cannot serve God and Mammon, canfiot reconcile tvvo opposite modes of conduct together; what, then, is the course ^^hich a prudent and considerate man has to take ? Why, evi- dently, to devote himself absolutely and entirely to the service of his one Lord and Master, and to suffer nothing to interfere with that great object of his atten- tion. If there really is a future scene of existence, and if the rewards promised to the righteous, and the punishments denounced against the wicked, are as great and as durable as they are represented to be, there is no sacrifice in this life which a wise man would not make to them. If they are worth any thing, they are worth every thing. Be, then, not only almost, but altogether Christians. Let no enticing words of man's wisdom put you out of conceit with the divine truths of the Gospel, and make you halt between two opin- ions ; let no one favorite vice, no worldly pursuits, no vain amusements, draw you off" from any part of your duty, and divide your obedience between God and Ba- al. If you have chosen the other world for your por- tion, cling not any longer fondly to this ; if you have set your hand to the plough, look not back to the vani- ties you have renounced. Be not irresolute, waver- ing, and indecisive ; be not governed by the opinion of the day, nor the temptation of the moment. Do not so divide yourselves between two masters, as to please neither the one nor the other ; do not manage so wretchedly as to lose at once what little this world, has to give, and all the glorious rewards which the other holds up to your view. " Chirse ye, in short, " this dav, whom ye will serve." If the Lord be Ww 354 SERMON XXVIL God, and not Baal, be resolved at once ; take a manly- and a decided part ; fix your affections immoveably on heavenly things ; pursue, with unremitting attention, your best and truest interest ; give up yourselves, body and soul, into the hands of your Maker, and persevere imiformly in his service to the end of your lives ; that having thus finished your course, and kept the faith to the last, you may receive " the prize of your high " calling in Christ Jesus ; and when your flesh and *' your heart shall fail, may find God to be the strength " of your heart, and your portion for ever." SERMON XXVIII ^ Psalm xxii. 28. The kingdom is the Lord's, and he is the governor among the nations^ THE doctrine conveyed to us in these words is that of A NATIONAL PROVIDENCE ; and it is a doc- trine no less consonant to reason than consolatory to the human mind. It must therefore aftbrd us the high- est satisfaction, to find this truth confirmed by the sa- cred writers in the clearest and the strongest terms. The Scriptures are full of the most gracious promises to righteous nations, and of the. most dreadful denuncia- tions against wicked and impenitent kingdoms ; and it is well known, that neidier these promises nor these threatenings were vain. . The history- of. the Jewish people, more especially, is scarce any thing else than the history of God's providential interposition to punish or reward them, according as they obeyed or disobey- ed his laws. And althoufi-h we should admit that on account of the peculiar circumstances of that people, and the unexampled form of their theoretic government, their case cannot be drawn into a parallel with that of other nations, yet there are not w anting some which may. Those four celebrated empires of antiquity which rose up one after another, and successively filled the world with astonishment and terror, were nothing more than mighty engines in the hand of God to exe- cute his various dispensations of mercy or of justice on the Jewish nation, and other civil communities ; and * Preached before the House of Lords, Jiiauaiy 30^ 1778. 356 SERMON XXVIII. to prepare the way gradually for the introduction of another kingdom of a very different nature, and su- perior to them all. Their rise and fall were predicted in the sacred writings long before they existed*, and those extraordinary personages, Nebuchadnezzar, Cy- rus, Alexander, Augustus, Vespasian, and I'itus, were, though unknown to themselves, the agents of the Almighty, raised up at certain appointed times, and furnished with every requisite qualification to " per- *' form all his pleasuref ," and fulfil his views. " I am ■'the Lord that maketh all things; that stretcheth " forth the heavens alone ; that spreadeth abroad the *' earth by myself; that frustrateth the tokens of the *' lyars, and maketh diviners mad ; that turneth wise ■ ' men backward, and maketh their knowledge foolish ; *' that confirmeth the word of his servant, and per- *' formeth the counsel of his messengers. I form the *' light and create darkness ; I make peace and create " evil : I THE Lord do all these things|.'* Thus we see, that what is considered as the common vi- cissitude of human affairs, peace and war, pestilence and famine, political changes and national revolutions, the passionsof the wicked, the machinations of the crafty, the virtues of the good, the errors of the weak, the pru- dence of the wise, the shining qualities of the great ; every thing, in short, that the world calls accident, chance and fortune, are all, in fact, under the control of an invisible and over-ruling hand ; which, without any violation of the lav/s of nature, or the freedom of human actions, renders thcin subservient to the gra- cious purposes of divine wisdom in the government of the world. In the instance above adduced of the four great mo- Tiarchies, we see this sublime truth exemplified in the most striking manner. They form as it v/ere, one vast map of providential administration, delineated on so large a scale, and marked with such legible charac- ters, that they cannot well escape our notice. But al- • Daniel v'li. and viii. f Isaiah xliv. 28. ^ Isaiah xliv. 24, 25, 26 ; and a!v 7. . SERMON XXVIII. 357 thougli this is very properly hung up for the observa- tion of mankind in general, yet there are other ex- amples of a national Providence which to us may be jnore interesting, as coming more home to ourselves. We of this kingdom have been most remarkably favor- ed with the visible protection of Heaven ; and there are in our own history so many plain and unequivocal marks of a divine interference, that if we do not ac- knowledge it, we arc either the blindest or the most un- grateful people on earth. Let me more particularly call your attention to the following very singular cir- cumstances, in some of the greatest events that dignify tlie annals of this country. Our separation from the church of Rome was begun by the passions of a prince, who meant nothing less than that reformation of Religion which was the conse- quence of it. The total dispersion and overthrow of what was profanely called the invincible Armada, was effected almost entirely by winds and tempests. That dreadful popish conspiracy, which seemed guarded by impenetrable darkness and silence against all possibili- ty of detection, was at last casually discovered by a letter equally indiscreet and obscure. At a time when there appeared no hope of ever recovering our ancient form of government, it suddenly rose fiom the ruins in which the tragedy of this day had involved it ; under the auspices of a man who had helped to destroy it, and who seemed almost to the last moment undecided whe- ther he should restore or destroy it again. And to crown all, our deliverance in a subsequent reign from the attempts of a gloomy tyrant to enslave both body and soul, was brought about by a concurrence of the most surprising incidents co-operating, at that very critical moment on which the whole depended, \\ ith the noblest efforts of true patriotism. Let now the hardi- est sceptic consider only these few remarkable facts, selected from a multitude of others scarce less extraor- dinary, and then let him deny, if he can, the evident tra- ces they bear stamped upon them of some superi- or POWER. 358 SERMON XXVIII. It may seem, indeed, as if the very times to which the present solemnity carries back our thoughts, were a contradiction to the doctrine here advanced, were a strong and melancholy proof that God's providential care was then at least withdrawn, and "the Hghtof his *' countenance turned away" from this island. The murder of a virtuous though misguided prince, and the total subversion of the constitution, may be thought ut- terly inconsistent with the notion of a divine super- intendence. But it is not surely to be expected, that throughout the whole duration of a great empire, any more than throughout the whole life of an individual, there is to be one uninterrupted course of prosperity and success. Admonitions and checks, corrections and punishments, may be, and undoubtedly are, in both cases sometimes useful, perhaps essentially necessary ; and the care and even kindness of Providence may be no less visible in these salutary severities, than in the distribution of its most valuable blessings. Both private and public afflictions have a natural tendency to awaken, to alarm, to instruct, to human- ize, to meliorate the heart of man ; and they may be ultimately attended with other very important and be- neficial consequences. This was eminently the case in that turbulent period we are now commemorating. The convulsions into which the nation was then thrown, seem to have been the efforts of a vigorous though at that time disordered constitution ; which shaking off in those violent agitations some of its most malignant humors, acquired in the end a degree of health and soundness unknown to it before. These however might, by a skilful management, have been much soon- er established. The lenient remedies of law and PARLIAMENTARY AUTHORITY, which WCrC at first applied, had made so great a progress in subduing the maladies of the state, that there was all the encourage- ment in the world to persevere in that regular and pru- dent course. But most unfortunately for the nation, it was too hastily relinquished ; and ih an evil hour re- course was had to that most dangerous and desperate SERMON XXVIIL 359 of all experiments, ^vhich nothing but extreme ncces- sitv can justify, MILITARY roRCE. ^ They who set out with the very best prmciples, and the purest intentions, were insensibly led by aiew art^ ful incendiaries into excesses of which at one time they would have thought themselves utterly incapable. In their haste to reform every thing ^^^y/'?^^^^ foro-ot that the other two branches of tne legisla uie th'e kiko and the lords, had rights as sacred and as essential to the public welfare, as those of the com- mons ; and that it was no less injurious and Danger- ous to violate the constitution, for the sake ot ad- vancing the power of the people than for the purpose of extending the prerogative of the crow;n Heated with those visionary plans which they had formed of absolute perfection in church and state, they thought it allowable to promote such righteous ^^^^s by the most unrighteous means ; by trampling on all those sacred laws of truth, justice, equity, chanty and hu- manity, which were undoubtedly meam (however little we may regard that meaning) to govern our po^ Meal as well 2.s"prhatc conduct : and which can never be transgressed, not even in pursuit of liberty itselt, .without the most pernicious effects. No wonder, then, that these effects followed in the present instance, and that the Almighty pursued such unchristian practices with the most exemplary ven- geance. It is, indeed, very remarkable, that every one Sf those parties which bore a share in this miserable contest, king, nobles, commons, puritans, and patriots were disappointed of their aim, and found ever) thing faU out the very reverse of what they expected l.ach in their turn became the victim of their own devices ; and the new race, which sprung up from their dregs, exhibited to the world a most singular but at the same time most instructive spectacle. Instead of that unli- mited freedom, temporal andspiritual,Avhich they con- ceived themselves commissioned by Heaven to esta- blish ; confusion and bloodshed, tyranny and anarchy, tvery folly and every extravagance which enthusiasm 560 SERMON XXVIII; could engender, followed each odier in quick succes- sion. Ashamed and tired of such disgraceful and ca- pricious insults, the nation was at length roused, and with one voice recalled ihe exiled monarch to the throne. - But as if it was meant by Providence that every part of this unexampled scene should hold forth some useful lesson to mankind, it appeared from the conclusion no less than from the whole progress of it, how completely all immoderate vehemence of temper and conduct defeats its own purposes, and by grasping at too much loses every thing. For, as one extreme naturally begets another, excessive rigor to the father produced excessive indulgence to the son ; and in one fond moment of joy was lost the fruit of all the prece- ding struggles against the exorbitant claims and en- croachments of the crown. But when, in the following reign, a different conduct was observed, the event was also different, and Heaven gave its sanction to the glorious work. At that memo- rable period all the injustice and oppression wns on the part of the sovereign, ail the forbearance and modera- tion on the part of the subject. For although the in- vasions made both on our civil and religious rights, by James the Second, were far bolder and more alarming than those attempted by his unhappy father, yet they produced no hasty, no licentioivs excess among the people. Every legal, every constitutional mode of re- dress was first tried, and when those failed of success, more vigorous and efficacious measures became neces- sary. Yet even these were conducted with the most consummate prudence and circumspection ; and the wisdom, the calmness, the firmness, the temper, the sobriety, with which our illustrious ancestors proceed- ed on that occasion, form a most striking contrast to the rashness, the passion, the wild impetuosity, the fa- natic fury, with which Cromwell and his associates set themselves to tear up the abuses of government, and government itself along with them, by the roots. The great authors of the revolution, on the contrary, disdaining all the usual artifices of faction to inflame SERMON XXVIII. 361 and mislead the multitude, and leaving every otie to his own natural sense and feeling of the injuries he sustained ; without calumny or falsehood, without in- vective or misrepresentation, without the horrors of a civil war, without a single battle, almost without the loss of a single life, effected every thing they wished. Because botii the end they pursued, and the means they employed, were reasonable and just. Providence crown- ed their eflforts with success, and gave diem the glory of establishing the rights of the people, not on the ru- ins of the constitution, but on the nice adjustment and exact counterpoise of all its several component parts. We have then the strongest reason to conclude, that there is a Power on high which watches over the fate of nations^ and which has in a more especial manner, in a manner plainly distinguishable from the ordinary course of events, and the common effects of human policy and foresight, preserved this kingdom in the most critical and perilous circumstances*. Does not this then afford some ground to hope, that if we endeavor to render ourselves worthy of the divine protection, it will be once more extended to us ; and that by a speedy and effectual reformation of our hearts and lives, we may remove or lighten those heavy judgments which our iniquities have now most justly drawn down upon us. This, I know, is holding a language which they who compliment themselves with the .name of PHILOSOPHERS will treat with sovereign contempt. But let them enjoy their triumph ; and let them allow us, who think Christianity the best philosoph}^ to con- sole ourselves, amidst the gloom that at present sur- rounds us, with those reviving hopes which the belief • 1 have often observed, (says an eloquent writer) that " when the ful- *' ness and nnaturity of time is come that produces the greater convulsions " and changes in the world, it usually pleases God to make it appear, by the «' tnanner of them, that they are not the effects of human force or policy, " hut of the divine justice and predestination. And though we see a man " striking as it -were, the hour of tliat fulness of time, yet our reasoit must " needs Ue convinced, that his hand is moved by soine secret, and, to us " who stand witliou', invisible direction." Covile/* Diicourst on the Govern- ment of Oliver Croviivelt. This observation is, I apprehend, strictly applicable to thoie in8tan«*8#f • JWvisJBi.E DIRECTION wViich havc been here produced. X X 362 SERMON XXVIII. of God's providential government presents to us*. If this be superstition, it is so delightful a superstition, that it would be inhuman to deprive us of it. But we hww in whom we trust ; we know that this trust rests on a foundation which cannot be shaken. It rests, as we have seen, not only on the express declarations and promises of holy writ, but on the many remarkable in- stances of a supernatural agency w hich occur in the history of mankind, and above all in our own. In every one of the extraordinary national deliverances above- mentioned, the dangers that threatened this island were of a much greater magnitude, and more formidable as- pect, than those which now seem to alarm us. Why, then, may we not again indulge ourselves with tlie same expectations ? A series of past favors naturally begets a presumption of their continuance ; and it must not be wholly imputed to the laudable partiality which every honest man entertains for his own country, if we give way to a persuasion, that God will still vouchsafe his accustomed goodness to this favored land. Yes, we ^ui// sooth ourselves with the belief, that a nation so distinguished as this has been with happier revolu- tions, and greater blessings, than any other ever expe- rienced, will not be at this time deserted by its gracious Benefactor and Protector. It is here that civil liberty ha^ fixed her throne ; it is here that Protestantism finds its firmest support ; it is here that the divine principle of toleration is established ; it is here that a provision is made by government for the poor ; it is here that they are Avith a boundless munificence relieved both by private charity and public institutions ; it is here, in fine, that the laws are equal, wise and good; that they are administered by men of acknowledged ability, and unimpeached integrity ; and that through their hands the stream of justice flows with a purity un- known in any other age or nation. Nor have Vvc only the happiness of enjoying these unspeakable advanta- * "We may, I trust, on the sair.e grounds, entertain even now the ^ame reviving hopes. Indeed inuch of the reasoning made use of in this dis- course-applies n^ost rcmarkablj' to the present circumstances cf this coun- 'tf}'. SERMON XXVIIL 363 gcs oin-sclves ; \;'C have had the glory (a glory supe- rior to all conquests, to all triumphs) of diffusing a large proportion of them over the remotest regions of the glol:)e. Wherever our discoveries, bur commerce or our arms have penetrated, they have in general car- ried the laws, the freedom, and the religion, of this country along with them. Whatever fliults and errors we may be chargeable with in other respects, for these gifts at least, the most invaluable that one country can bestow upon another, it is not improbable that both the eastern and the western world may one day acknowledge that they were originally indebted to this kingdom. Is it then a vain, is it a delusive imagination, that after having been made the chosen instruments of Provi- dence for such noble, such beneficial purposes, there is some degree of felicity still in reserve for us, and that the illustrious part we have been appointed to act on the great theatre of the world is not yet accom- plished ; What may be in the councils of the MOST high; what mighty changes he may be now meditating in the svstem of human afFaii-s, he alone can tell*-. But in the midst of this awful suspence, ^^ hile the fate of empires hangs trembling on his resolves, of one thing at least we are absolutely certain ; that it is better to have him for our friend than our enemy. Wliich of the two he shall be, depends entirely upon ourselves. If by our infidelity, our impiety, our liber- tinism, our ill-timed gaiety and wanton profuseness in the very face of public distress, we audaciously insult his admonitions, and brave his utmost vengeance ; what else can we expect but that every thing which ought naturally to be the means of our stability, will be con- verted into instruments of our destruction ? That im- mense dominion, of which we shall then be no longer worthy, will be gradually rent away from us ; and it may even become necessary for the welfare of man- kind, to cut off our communication with distant coun- * What mighty changes in the system of human aftairs have since this period (1778) actually taken place both in Auisiicx and in Europe, thf rfadcr need not be informed. 364 SERMON XXVIII. tries, lest they be infected with the contagion of owr sins. But if, on the contrary, by reverencing the judgments of God, and returning to that allegiance which we owe him, we again put ourselves under his protection ; he may still, as he has often done, dispel the clouds that hang over u& : or if, for wise reasons^ he suffer them to gather and darken upon us, he may make even this in the final result, conduce ta our real welfare. There is, in fact, no calamity, private or public,, which under his gracious direction, may not eventually prove a blessing. There are no losses, but that of his favor, which ought to sink us into despair* There is a spirit in freedom, there is an energy in vir- tue, there is a confidence in Religion, which will ena- ble those that possess them, and those only, to rise superior to every disaster. It is not a boundless ex- tent of territory, nor even of commerce, that is essen-, tial to public prosperity. They are necessary, indeed > to national greatness, but not to national felicity. The true wealth, the true security of a kingdom consists in frugality, industry, temperance, fortitude, probity, pie- ty, unanimity. Great difficulties, more especially, call for great talents and great virtues. It is in times such as these that we look for those noble examples of self- denial and PUBLIC spirit, which bespeak true greatness of mind, which have sometimes saved king- doms, and immortalized individuals. Let, then, all- the wise and the good in every party and denominatior^ of men among us (for they are in every one to be found), stand forth in the present exigency as one man, to ad-, vise, direct, assist, and befriend their country ; and as the Roman triumvers gave up each his friend for the destruction of the state, let every one now give up his favorite prejudices, systems, interest, resentments, and connections, for the preservatiofi of it. Let us not, for God's sake, let us not waste that time in tearing an<^ devouring one another, which ought to be employed in providing for the general welfare. Unjust suspi- cious, uncandid interpretations, mutual reproaches^, and SERMON XXVIII. 365 endless altercations, can answer no other purpose but to embitter our minds, and multiply the very evils we all wisli to remove. From beginnings such as these arose the calamities we are now met to deplore ; and the conclusion was, not liberty, but tyranny in the ex- treme. Can there possibly be a stronger motive for us to moderate our dissensions, and compose our pas- sions, before they grow too big for us to manage and control ? On the "same bottom are we all embarked, and if, in the midst of our angry contentions, the ves- sel perish, we must all perisli, with it. It is therefore our common interest, as it is our common duty, to unite in guarding against so fatal an event. There can be no danger of it but from ourselves. Our worst, our most formidable enemies, are our own personal vi- ces and political distractions. Let harmony inspire our councils, and Religion sanctify our hearts, and we have nothing to fear. Peace abroad is undoubtedly a most desirable object. But there are two things still more so, PEACE with one another, and peace WITH GojD, SERMON XXIX. Luke Iv. 32. And they were astonished at his doctrine : for his word was with power. IT is evident from this, and many other similar pas- sages of the New Testament, that our blessed Lord's discourses made a very uncommon and wonderful im- pression on the minds of his hearers. We are told, in various places, " that the common people heard *' him gladly ; that they wondered at the gracious ** words which proceeded out of his mouth, and de- ** Glared, with one voice, that never man spake like ** this man*." Expressions of this sort, whicli con- tinually occur in relation to our Saviour's preaching, we never find applied in Scripture to any other teacher of Religion ; neither to the prophets who preceded, nor to the apostles that followed him. And we may be sure, that the effects of his doctrine must have been y^ry extraordinary indeed, when it could draw such strong language as this from the Evangelists, who, in gene- ral, express themselves with much calmness and sim- plicity ; and frequently describe the most astonishing miracles, and deliver the sublimest doctrines, without any apparent emotion, or remarkable energy of dic- tion. What, then, could it be which gave such surpri- zing force to our Saviour's instructions, such power * Mark xii. o7. Lulce iv, 2^. John Cii. 2?. SERMON XXIX. .^er to his words ? He employed none of those rhetorical artifices and contrivances, those bold figures and un- expected strokes of overbearing eloquence, which the most celebrated ivorldly orators have generally made use of, to inflame the passions and gain the admiration of the multitude. These, certainly, m ere not the in- struments employed by our Saviour to command atten- tion. The causes of these surprizing effects which his preaching produced, were of a very different na-^ turc. Some of these I shall endeavor to enumerate and illustrate as concisely as I can. 1. The first was, the infinite importance and dignity of the subjects he discoursed upon. He did not, like many ancient and many modern philosophers, consume his own time, and that of his hearers, with idle, fruit- less speculations, with ingenious essays, and elabo- rate disquisitions on matters of no real use or moment, with scholastic distinctions, and unintelligible refine- ments ; nor did he, like the Jewish rabbins, content himself with dealing out ceremonies and traditions, Avith discoursing on mint and cummin, and estimating the breadth of a phylactery ; but he drew off the atten- tion of his followers from these trivial, contemptible things, to the greatest and noblest objects that could engage the notice, or interest the heart of man. He taught, in the first place, the existence of one supreme Almighty Being, the creator, preserver and governor of the imiverse. To this great Being he taught men how to pray, to worship him in spirit and in truth, in holiness and purity of life. He laid open nil the depravit}^ of human nature ; he pointed out the only effectual remedy for it ; belief in himself, the way, the truth, and the life ; repentance and amend- ment ; an entire and absolute renovation of heart, and unreserved submission to the will and the la\\- of God. The m.orality he taught was the purest, the sound- est, the sublimcst, the most rational, the most per- fect, that had ever before entered into the im:igination, or j)roceeded from the lips of man. And the uniform tendency of all his doctrines, and all his precepts, was 368 SERMON XXIX. to make the whole human race virtuous and happy ; t(^ compose them into resignation and content ; to inspire them with sentiments of justice, equity, mildness, moderation, compassion, anrl idBTcction towards each other ; and to fill them with sure hope and trust in God for pardon of their sins, on most equitable terms, and the assistance of his holy spirit to regulate their future conduct. And, finally, to give irresistible force to his com- mands, he added the most awful sanctions, the doc- trines of a future resurrection, a day of judgment and of retribution, a promise of eternal reward to the good, and a denunciation of the most tremendous pun- ishments to the wicked. 2. Such was the general matter of his instructions ; and, in the next place, his mafiner of conveying them was no less excellent, and no less conducive to their success. What, for instance, could be more noble, more af- fecting, than the very first opening of his divine com- mission ? " The spirit of the Lord is upon me, be- *' cause he hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to *' the poor \ he hath sent me to heal the broken-heart- *' ed, to preach deliverance to the cnpti\es, and reco- *' vering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them diat " are bruised ; to preach the acceptable year of the " Lord*." These were the gracious declarations with which he began his ministry, and in the same spirit he continu- ed it to the very last. Though he invited all men, without distinction, high and low, rich and poor, to embrace the gracious offers of salvation ; yet he ad- dressed himself principally to the ignorant, the indi- gent, the publican, and the sinner. *' He broke not *' the bruised reed, nor quenched the smoaking flaxf ;'* that is, he bore not hard on any that were boAved down with a sense of their unworthiness, nor extinguished by discouragement the faintest spark of returning vir- tue ; but, on the contrary, invited to him those *' that • Luke iv. 18. t Matth. xii. 20. SERMON XXIX. 369 *' were heavy laden with sin, that he might give them «' rest." His discourses were perfectly adapted to these gra- cious purposes. They were mild, tender, cncou- rai^ing. They were such as the most learned and best informed might listen to with benefit and delight, yet such as the weakest and most ignorant might easily comprehend. He did not deliver a regular, dry, me- thodical system of ethics, nor did he enter into all the little minute divisions and subdivisions of virtue. But he laid down in the first place, the two great leading fundamental principles of love to God, and love to mankind, and thence deduced, as occasions presented themselves, and incidents occurred, which gave pecu- liar force and energy to his instructions, all the princi- pal duties respecting God, our neighbor, and our- selves. Whenever he made use of the common di- dactic method, as in his discourse from the mount, the doctrines he taught, and the precepts he delivered, were short, sententious, solemn, important, full of Vv is- dom and of dignity, yet intelligible and clear. But sen- sible how much this formal mode of teaching v.as apt to weary the attention, and die away out of the me- mory, he added two others, much better calculated to make deep and lasting impressions on the mind. The first was, conveying his instructions under the cover of similitudes and i)arables, drawn from the most ob- vious appearances of nature, or the most familiar oc- currences of life. The other was the use of certain significant emblematic actions, such as that of washing his disciples' feet, by which he expressed his meaning more clearly and emphatically than by any words he could have employed for that purpose. 3. Another circumstance which gave force and ef- ficacy to our Saviour's preaching was, that he appeared to be perfectly impartial, and to have no respect to persons. He reproved vice in every station, wherever he found it with the same freedom and boldness. He paid no court either to the multitude on the one hand, or to the great and vvealthy on the other. Though he Yy 370 SERMON XXIX. ate and drank, and conversed widi publicans and siri- ners, yet it was not to encoiuiige and indulge them ill their vices, but to reprove and correct them ; it was because they were sick, and wanted a physician, and that physician he was. In the same manner, while he •taught the people to render unto Cassar the things that were Ctcsars, to honor those to whom honor was due, and to pay all proper respect and obedience to those who sat in Moses' seat, yet this did not prevent him from rebuking the Eiders and the Rulers, the Scribes and the Pharisees, with the greatest plainness, and with the utmost severity, for their hypocrisy and insincerity, their rapacity and extortion, their zeal for trifles, and their neglect of the weightier matters of the law. — This intrepidity and impartiality in his instructions, and in the distribution of his censures and Lis admo- nitions, evidently shewed that he had no private ends to serve, that the salvation of men was his only object, and that he was not to be deterred from pursuing it by the fear of consequences. All which could not fail to impress his followers with the utmost respect, awe, and reverence, both for his person and his doctrines. 4. Every one that hopes to w^ork any material change, any effect Uctl reformation in the hearts of those whom he addresses, must endeavor to find out, as well as he is able, their real sentiments and habits of think- ing, their tempers and dispositions, their peculiar fail- ings and infirmities, their secret wickednesses, and un- witnessed transgressions. There are a thousand artifices by which men are able to conceal their corruption and depravity from the eyes of others, and sometimes, alas ! even from their own. And it has been affirmed by some very sagaciou9 observers of hum.an nature, that no one ever yet dis- covered the bottom of liis heart, even to his most inti- mate and bosom friend. But it was inipossible for any wickedness, however secret, or however artfully disguised, to escape the all-seeing eye of the Son of God. He saw, at one glance, the inmost recesses of tiie soul. He discovered every thought as it rose in SERMON XXTX. 571 tnc mind. Ke detected every irregular desire !)cforc it ripened into action. Hence he wns iihvays enabled to adapt his discourses to the particular circumstances and situation of every individual that heard him, and to ap- ply such remedies, and i^ive such directions, as the peculiar exigences of their case required. Hence, too, his answers to their questions and enquiries were fre- quently accommodated more to what they thought, than what they said ; and wc find tiiem going away from him astonished, at perceiving that he was perfectly well acquainted with every thing that passed within their breasts ; and filled v/idi admiration of a teacher possessed of such extraordinary powers, to whom all hearts were open, and from whom no secrets were hid. It is evident what a command this must give him over the affections of his hearers, and what attention and obedience it must secure to all his precepts and ex- hortations. 5. The same effects must, in some degree, l3e pro- duced by the A'arious proofs he ga\e of the most perfect Avisdom in solving the difficulties that were proposed to him, and of the most consummate prudence and ad- dress, in escaping all the snares that were laid for him. Even when he was but twelve years of age, he was able to converse and to dispute witli the most learned ex- pounders of the law, and all that heard him were as- tonished at his understanding and his answers. After- wards, during the "lA'hole course of Ifis ministry, the Rulers, and Scribes, and Pharisees, that is, tlie men of the greatest learning and ability amonp:st the Jews were perpetually endeavoring to entangle him in his talk, to perplex and harass him \vith insidious questions, and to draw him into absurd conclusions, and hazardous situ- ations. But he constantly found means to disengage himself both from the dilemma and the danger ; to form his determinations with such exquisite sagacity and judgment, and sometimes to propose to them, ih his turn, difficulties so much beyond their ingenuity to clear up, that diey generally " marvelled, and left .him, *' and went their ^\ay. Not one amongst them was 372 SERMON XXIX. *' able to answer him ; neither durst any man, from *' that day forth, ask him any more questions." 6. It is evident to reason, and it is confirmed by in- variable experience, that the purest and the sublimest precepts, if not enforced by a correspondent example in the teacher, will avail but little with the generality of mankind. It is equally certain, that tht re scarce ever existed a public instructor, whose practice, hoMever laudable in general, did not fall far below the rules he prescribed to others, and to himself. Here our blessed Lord stood unrivalled and alone : he, and he only, of all the sons of men, acted up in every the minutest instance to what he taught ; and ex- hibited, in his own person, a perfect model of every virtue he inculcated. He commanded, for instance, his disciples " to love God with all their heart, and *' soul, and mind, and strength*," and in conformity to this law, he himself manifested, through his whole conduct, the most ardent love for his heavenly Father, the most fervent zeal for his honor and glory, for the advancementof his Religion, and the establishment of his kingdom throughout the earth. His meat and drink, indeed, was to do the will of him that sent him. He commanded them again " to love their neighbor *' as themselves!;" and his own life was one continued exercise of love, kindness, and compassion to the uhole human race. He required them to be meek, humble, gentle, and peaceable to all men|. And how did he teach them this important lesson ? " Learn of " me," says he, "for I am meek and lowly, and ye *' shall find rest unto your soulsj|." He exacted of them the most unblemished purity and sanctity of man- ners ; a severe demand ! but he had a right to make it; for he himself was " pure, holy, harmless, and un- *' defiled : he did no sin, neither was guile found in his *' mouth §." He enjoined them to '* deny themselves " and take up their cross^." But it was to follow /i'f»3 who had denied himself almost every comfort and con- *Markxii. 30. •»- Matth. xix. 19. | Tit. ili. 2 y Matt. xi. 29. § Heb. vii. 26. 1 Pet. ii, 22. H Matt. xvi. 24. SERMON XXIX. 373 venience of life ; and for the joy that was set before him, " endured the cross, and despised the shame" of an ignominious death*-. He required them " to love ** their enemies, to bless those that cursed them, and *' pray for those that despitefully used and persecuted *' themf." A hard saying this, and of all others, per- haps, the most revolting to human nature. But how could they refuse to give even this last and most pain- ful proof of their obedience, who saw that their divine Master, when he was reviled, reviled not again ; but, in the very midst of his agony, prayed for his enemies ^nd persecutors J. No wonder that every word from such a teacher as this should sink deep into the hearts of all who heard them, and engage their affections, as well as convince their understandings. 7, and lastly. To the influence of example, he added the authority of a divine teacher. The best and wisest of the ancient philosophers could do nothing more than give good advice to their followers ; and uc all know, from sad experience, w hat mere advice will do against strong passions, establish- ed habits, and inveterate corruptions. But our great Lawgiver, on the contrary, delivered all his doctrines, and all his precepts, in the name of God. He spoke in a tone of superiority and com- mand, which no one before him had the courage or the right to assume. He called himself the Son of God ; and he con- stantly supported, in his words as well as in his actions, the dignity and the divinity of that high character. Not to mention all his astonishing miracles, he showed even in his discourses, that " all power in Heaven and " in earth was given unto him, and that he and his Fa- '* ther were on(j|." In the very beginning of his ser- mon on the mount, to the poor in spirit, to the merci- ful, to the pure in heart, to the peace- makers, and ma- ny other descriptions of men, he took upon him to • Heb. xii. 2. + Matt. v. 44. \ IPet. ii 23. Lukexxiii. 54. .^ H Matth. xxviii. 18. John x. 30- 574 SERMON XXIX. promise the kingdom of Heaven*. When he v.'as ex. posing the vain traditions of the elders, he opposed to their feeble reasonings, ?nd miserable casuistry, his own authoritative edict. " But /saj unto you, swear *' not at all ; /say unto you, resist not evil ; / say *^ unto you, love your enemiesf." When the Phari- sees rebuked his disciples for plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath, he silenced them with declaring, " that *' the Son of Man was Lord also of the SabbathJ." When he healed diseases, his language was, ".I will ; *' be thou clean jj." When he forgave sins, "be of ** good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee. Thy fiuth *' hath made thee whole. Go in peace, and sin no " more§." And when he gives a description of the last day, he represents himself as an Almigiity Sove- reign, sitting on the throne of his glory, Avith all the inhabitants of the earth standing before him, to whom. he distributes everlasting rewards and everlasting pu- nishments, according to tlieir dcserts*l[. Well then, might they say of him, " tliat his word was with *' pov/er, and that he taught th.cm as one having au- *' thority, and not as the Scribes-^'*." These, then, were the principal causes which gave such force and success to our Saviour's instruction, and compelled even his enemies to acknov.'ledge, that, *' never man spake as he spake." The consequence *' was that all men sought him," and all who lieard him, and were not blinded by their prejudices, " forsook their *^ sins; and follov.-ed himif f." It is evidently our duty to do the same : for the same causes, which gave such efficacy to our Saviour's preaching, do in a great degree* still subsist in the Gospel, and ought to produce the same effects. In one respect, indeed, we fall short of those who heard him. He is not personally present ■with us, nor has he " taught in our streets." Here it must be owned the first disciples had som.e advantage over us. They who had the happiness to see and to * Matt V. 3. 12. f Matth.v. 34-, 39, 44. X Mark ii. 28. ll Matth. viii. 3 I Matth. ix. 2. Mark v. 31. t Matth. .xxv. 31. •* Matth, vii. 23. tt Lukciv. 42, Marly i. 18. SERMON XXI5:. 375 hear him, w hose senses were charmed, whose hearts were subdued by the venerable mildness of his look, the gracious mujesty of his gestures, the awfully pleas- ing sound of his voice, to vvhom all he had said and clone, with the very mdnncr of his saying and doing it, v.'as occurring every moment, and continually present in reality or in imagination ; these, undoubtedly, must be moved and affected to a degree of v\hich we can hard- ly form afiy just conception. Yet still his words carry u divine power along with them, sufficient to convince every understanding, and to subdue every heart that is not hardened against conviction. We have still before our eyes, in the histories of the Evangelists, the sub- lime and heavenly doctrines which he delivered, the pa- rables he uttered, the significant actions he made use of, the instructions and the reproofs he gave to sinners of every denomination, the triumphs he obtained over the most artful and insidious of his enemies, the unri- valled purity and perfection of his example, the divine authority and dignity with which he spoke, the awful punishments he denounced against those who rejected^ and the eternal rewards he promised to those who re- ceived his words. These things still remain, and must for ever remain ; must for ever give irresistible force and energy to every word that is recorded as proceed- ing from the m.cuth of Christ, and must render it " quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged *' sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul *' and spirit*." If eloquence, such as this, does not make a deep, and lasting, and vital impression upon our souls ; if we do not find it to be, indeed, the pow- er of God unto salvation, we shall be left without ex- cuse. Let us then, in the languao:e of our church, most earnestly beseech Almighty God, that those sa- cred words which we have now, or at any other time, heard with our outward cars, may, through his grace be so grafted inwairdly in our hearts, that they may bring forth in us the fruit of good living, to the honor and praise of his name, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' • Hwl*. iv. 12. '"■' ' i * SERMON XXX*. Luke vii. 22* TheJi Jesus ansivering.^ said unto them^ s^o ijour ivay, and tell John •what things ye have seen and heard ; hora that the blind seey the lame ivalk^ the lejiers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is fireached. YOU will immediately recollect the occasion on which these words were spoken. They make a part of the answer which our Saviour gave to the two disciples whom John the Baptist sent to him, to ask whether he was the Great Deliverer that was to come, or they were to look for another. The whole passage is a remarkable one, and affords ample matter for ob- servation ; but the particular circumstance to which I mean to draw your attention at present, is the last clause of the text, in which we are told, that " to the *' poor the Gospel is preached." That our Lord should appeal to the miracles which he had wrought before the eyes of the two disciples, as an incontestible proof that he was the Messiah, will be thought very natural and proper ; but that he should immediately subjoin to this, as an additional proof; and a proof on which he seems to lay as much stress as on the other, that " to the poor the Gospel was preach- " ed," may appear, at the first view, a little extraor- dinary. We shall, however, soon be satisfied that in * Preached at the Yearly Meeting of the Charity Schools, in the Cathe- dral Church of St. Paul, May 2, 1782. SERMON XXX. 377 this, as well as in every otlier instance, our tlivine Master acted with consummate wisdom. He was speaking to Jews. His olijcct was to convince them, that he was the Messiah. The obvious way of do- ing this was to shew, that he corresponded to the de- scription which their own prophets gave of that great personage. Now they speak of him as one, who should not only give eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, feet to the lame, and speech to the dumb, but should also " preach good tidings to the meek and the poor*." These were two distinct and separate marks by which he was to be known, and it was therefore as proper and necessary for our Saviour to refer to the one as to the other. Whoever pretended to be the Messiah, must unite in himself these two great discriminating pecu- liarities, which, taken together, form one of the most illustrious and beneficent characters that can be ima- gined ; a character distinguished by the communica- tion of the greatest of all earthly blessings to two de- scriptions of men, who stood most in need of assist- ance, the diseased, and the poor. To the former, the promised Saviour of the world was to give health ; to the latter, spiritual instruction. In this manner was the great Redeemer marked out by the prophets, and this glorious distinction did Christ display and support in his own person throughout the whole course of his ministry. That he was infinitely superior to every other teach- er of religion in the number, and the benevolent nature of his miracles, is well known ; and that he was no less distinguished by the circumstance of " pre.aching " to the poor ;" that there was no one either before or after him, who made it his peculiar business to instruct them, and jxiid such constant and condescending at- tention to them as he did, is equally certain. The an- cient prophets were usually sent to kings and princes, to the rich and the great, and many of their prophecies were couched in sublime figurative language, beyond the comprehension of the vulgar. There were, in- " Isalali x:;L\-. 18, 19. xxnv. 5, 6. Ixi. 1. Z2 378 SP:RM0N XXX. deed, other parts of tlie Jewish scriptures siifficeintly plain and intelHgiblc, aud adapted to all capacities ; but even these the rabbies and the scribes, the Gjreat ex- pounders of the Ian among the Jews, contrived to per- plex and darken, and render almost useless by their vain traditions, their absurd glosses, and childish in- terpretations. So far were they h'om bho\vii)g any par- ticular regard or tenderness to the common people, that they held them in the utmost contempt ; they con- sidered them as accursed^, because they knew not that law, which they themselves took care to render impen- etrably obscure to them. " They took away the key " of knovv'ledge ; they entered not in themselves, and " those that were entering in they hinderedf." It m as even a proverbial saying among them, " that the Spirit " of God did not rest but upon a rich man J." Sa different were the maxims of the great Jewish teach- ers from the sentiments and conduct of that heavenly Instructor, who openly declared, and gloried in the declaration, that he came " to preach the Gospel to the " poor|j." Nor did the lower ranks of mankind meet with better treatment in the heathen a\ orld. There were among the ancient Pagans, at different periods, and in differ- ent countries, many excellent moral writers of fine talents and profound knowledge; but their composi- tions were calculated not for the illiterate and the indi- gent, but for men of ability aixl erudition like them- selves. They thought the poor below their notice or regard ; they could not stoop so low as to accommo- date themselves to the understanding of the vulgar. Their ambition, even in their ethical treatises, was to please the learned few. To these the Dialogues of * John vii. 48, 49. t Luke xi. 52. % Grotius on Matth. xi. 5. II It may be alleged, that by the poor, to whom our Lord preached the Gospel, the saered writers meant not the poor in circumstances, but the poor in spirit. The truth is, they meant both ; by our Saviour's conduct both senses were equally verified ; and these two sorts of poverty are so frequently found united, tliat it is scarce necessary, at least in the present instance, to distinguish between them. For more complete satisfaction on this and some other points (of which but a very imperfect view is given here) sec Bishop Hurd's admirable sermon on Matth. v. 3. s.-S. SERMON XXX. ' 379 Plato, the Ettiics of Aristotle, tlic Offices of Cicero, the Morals of Seneca and of Plutarch, mii^ht afford both entertainment antl information ; but had they been read to a Grecian or a Roman peasant, he would not, I conceive, have found himself either much enlightened or much improved by them. How should he get wis- dom from such sources " that holdeth the plough, and " that giorieth in the goad ; that driveth oxen, and is " occupied in their labors ; that giveth his mind to " make furrows, and is diligent to give the kine fod- " der*." Very different occupations these from the studies of the philosopher or the metaphysician, and not very well calculated to prepare the mind for the lec- tures of the academy, the lyceum, or the portico. The truth is, there was Aot a single book of mo- rality at that time written solely or principally for the use of the ignorant and the poor ; nor had they their duty explained to them in any other mode of instruc- tion adapted to their capacities. They had no lessons of conduct given them so plain, so familiar, so forcible, so authoritative, as those which are now regularly dis- pensed to every Christian congregation ; nothing that made the smallest approach to our Saviour's divine discourses, (especially that from the Mount) to the ten commandments, to the other moral parts of the Old and New Testament, or to the practical instructions and exhortations given weekly to the people by the ministers of the Gospel. They were left to form a system of morality for themselves as well as they could ; in which they were so far from being assisted by their national Religion, that both the mode and the objects of their worship, were of themselves sufficient to cor- rupt their hearts, and to counteract any right opinions or virtuous inclinations that might casually spring up in their minds. In this situation did our blessed Lord find the inferi- or class of mankind when he entered upon his minis- try. He found them without guide, instructor, coun- sellor, or friend. He saw them (to use the affecting * Ecclcs. xxxvUi. "5, 26. 380 SERMON XXX. language of Scripture) " fainting and scattered abroad *' as sheep having no shepherd, and he had compassion *' upon them*." He took them instantly under his protection, he shared with them the miseries of their condition. He assumed the form of a servant, submit- ted to all the hardships of that situation, and frequently *' had not even where to lay his head." Although he did not reject the wealthy and the great, but, on the contrary, received them with the utmost kindness, whenever they showed any marks of a right and teacha- ble disposition, yet " not maiiy noble, not many mighty, " were at first calledf." It was from among fisher- men and mechanics that he chose his companions and apostles. It was to the poor he chiefiy addressed his discourses. With these he principally lived and con- versed ; and to their understandings was the greater part of his parables, his allusions, his reasonings, his ptecepts, and his exhortations, most kindly accommo- dated. Thus did our heavenly Instructor most exactly fulfil the predictions of the prophets and his own declarations that he would evangelize to the poor. The conse- quence was what might naturally be expected from a measure as full of wisdom as it was of humanity, al- though totally opposite to the usual practice of moral teachers. In a short space of time that Gospel, which was at first .preached more particularly to the poor, was embraced also by the rich ; and became, in' a few centuries, the established Religion of the most powerful and extensive empire in the world, as it now is of all the most civilized and most enlightened kingdoms of the earth. Whereas the renowned sages of antiquity, by pursuing a contrary course, by making it their only object to please, amuse, and inform the learned and the great, were never able, with all their \visdom and elo- quence to enlighten or reform a single province, or even a single city of any note or magnitude:}:. * Matrh. ix. .'36. f 1 Cor. i. 26. I Hence it is obvious to remark, how very unfortunately those writers against Christianity have enri ployed their time and labor, \vho have taken so much pains to prove, that amo^ig the first converts to that Ri-Iigion, thero SERMON XXX. 381 We have here then, the utmost encouragement to tread in the steps of our divine Lawgiver, and to imi- tate, as far as v.e are able, that method of propagating his Religion which he adopted, and which was attend- ed with such signal success. Although it is un- doubtedly our duty " to preach the Gospel to every *' creature*," to press it on all ranks of people, high and low, rich and poor ; yet the example of our Lord plainly calls upon us to show a peculiar attention to those whom Providence has placed in the humble con- ditions of life. The reasons for this are obvious : they are the same which probably influenced our Saviour's conduct in this respect, and they still subsist in their full force. The poor have in general much fewer op- portunities of learning their duty themselves than the wealthy and the great : their education seldom quali- fies them, and their constant cares and labors leave them but little leisure, for acquiring sufficient religious knowledge without assistance. Their spiritual as well as temporal necessities are but too often overlooked, and disregarded by their superiors, and yet they form by far the largest and most necessary part of the communis ty. Add to all this, that they are commonly much freer from prejudice, much less wedded to systems and opinions, more open to conviction, more anxious to obtain information, and more ready to embrace truth, than the higher ranks of men. These circumstances evidently point them out as objects highly worthy of our utmost care and diligence, in furnishing their minds with those sacred truths, those rules of moral and re- ligious conduct, which are necessary to render them " wise unto salvation." were but few in proportion of any considerable rank: or fortune. This is a charge which the lirstpreackers of the Gospel were so far from wishing to deny or dissemble, that they openly avowed and gloried in itf- Their suc- cessors have as little reason to be afraid, or ashamed of acknowledging the fuct as they had They justly consider it as one proof, among many others of that aivitie viisdtnn which superintended and conducted the progress of Chris- tianity in a way so difierent from vshat Korhily vcisdc^ii would have dic- tated ; beginning with the cottage and ending with the imperial throne. lalse religion has generally reversed this order, and has succeeded ae» euadingly. t 1 Cor. i. 26. • Mark xvi. 15. 382 SERMON XXX. With this view it was, that The Society for Promo- ting Christian Kjiuwledge was first instituted. It breathes the true spirit ol" Christiaiiity, and follows, at a humble distance, the example of its divine Author, by diffusing the light of the Gospel more especially among the p.oor. Tliis is its peculiar province and employment ; and there are tv.o ways in v.hich it car- ries this benevolent purpose into execution. The first is, by encouraging the erection of charity, schools in every part of the kingdom, and by supply- ing them afterwards \\ ith proper religious instructions and vvholsome rules for their direction and good go- vernment. Tiie fruit of these its pious labors and ex- hortations in this cit_y, and its neighborhood, you have now before your eyes. You here see near five thou- sand children collected together from the charity schools in and about London and Westminster. A spectacle this, ^^ch is not perhaps, to be paralleled in any other country in the v/orld ; which it is impossible for any man of the least sensibility to contemplate without emo- tions of tenderness and delight ; which we may ven- ture to say, that even our Lord himself (who always showed a renrarkable affection for children) would liave looked on with complacency ; and which speaks more forcibly in favor of this branch of the Society's pater- nal care and attention, than any arguments for it that words could convey to you.* I shall therefore, only observe on this head, that large as the number is of the charity children now present in this place, it bears but a small proportion to the whole number in the schools of Great Britain and Ireland, which exceeds forty t/jou- sand. And when you consider that this Society was the original promoter, and has been the constant patron and protector of these schools, which have subsisted * The Trustees of the charity-schocih obtahied permission this year, for the first time, to range the children (amounting to near five thousand) in a kind of temporary amphitheatre under the dome of St. Paul's where the ser- vice was performed, and the sermon preached, the congregation occupying- the area. The effect of so large a number of children, disposed in that form, and imiting with one voice in tlie responses and in the psalin-singing, was wonderfully pleasing and affecting. This practice has since been continued annually. SERMON XXX, 385 now for near a century ; that the children educated in them are taken from the most indigent and helpless class of people ; that, consequently, uithout these scliools, they w oiild probably have had no education at all ; and that nothing is so likely to preserve them from idlciKss, beggary, profligacy and misery, as impressing early and strongly on their unoccupied and uncorrupt- cd minds sound princij)les of piety, industry, honesty, and sobriety ; you will be sensible that the Society has adopted a plan no less beneficial to the public, than coniformable to the sentiments of tlie great Author of our Religion, in recommending charity-schools as one very eftectual method of" preaching the Gospel to the *' poor." But the Society goes still further than this. It does not confine its cares merely to the childhood oi the. poor ? it follows them, with unremitted kindness, through every subsequent period of their lives. It is the guard of their youth, the companion of their manhood, the comfort of their old age. The principal part of its employment is to provide, at a very considerable ex- pense, and to disperse among the lower people of all ages and occupations, a very large number of Bibles, Common Praver- books, and small tracts on a variety of religious subjects, composed purposely for their use by men of eminent piety and ability, adapted to their capacities, and accomnwdated to all thtir various spirit- ual wants. In tlieseare explained to them, in the clear- est and most familiar terms, the first grounds and ru- diments of their faith, the main evidences and most essential doctrines of Christianity, the several duties ' they owe to God, their neighbor, and themselves, and the nature and benefits of the two Christian sacraments. By these, also, they are assisted in the service of the church, in their j^rivate devotions, in reading, under- standing, and applying the Holy Scriptures ; are sup- ported under afilictions, are guarded against temptation, and fortified more especially against those vices to uhichthe poor are most subject, and furnished with 384 SERMON XXX. proper cautions and arguments, to preserve them from the artifices of popery, and thedehisions of enthusiasm^ This is a short sketch of the several objects to which the governing members of our Society have directed their attention, and the provision they have made for the instruction of the ignorant and the poor. Of the little treatises here alluded to, some might undoubtedly be much improved, and some, perhaps, might be spa- red. But many of them are excellent, the greatest part extremely useful, and calculated to do essential service to that rank of men among whom they are distributed. Nor is the benevolence of our Society restrt.ined within the limits of this island only. Its principal object is, indeed, as it certainly ought to be, the instruction of our own poor ; but it has occasionally extended its kind assistance to other countries, both neighboring and re- mote. It has established schools and missions in vari- ous parts of the East Indies, for the conversion and in- struction of the Heathens ; and has dispersed among them many religious tracts in the Malabar language. It has carried its regard to the Greek church in Pales- tine, Syria, Mesopotamia, Arabia, and Egypt. For this purpose it has printed the New Testament and Psalter in Arabic, and has already sent a large number of both, with some other tracts, into Persia and India. It has published tliree several editions of the Bible in the Welsh language, and distributed them through eve- ry part of Wales, to the amount of fifty thousand copies. It has made provision for the education of youth, and the due celebration of divine worship, in the Scilly islands, where there was the utmost need of both ; and it has likevv'ise printed and dispersed over the Isle of Man many thousand copies of the Old and New Testament, of the Common Prayer, and other religious books^ in the vulgar language of that island. By this constant attention of the managers of the So- ciety to the spiritual wants of the poor in many differ- ent parts of the ^^•orld, as well as at home, the number of religious tracts and books which they have distribu- ted, from their first institution to this day, is so im- SERMON XXX.! 385 Tnensely great, as almost to exceed belief*. And al- though, in some mstances, the success of their endea- vors lias not fully answered their expectations, yet there can be no doubt but that upon the whole their labors have done infinite service to the cause of Religion. In- deed, all the clergy who are members of the Society, and have made a constant and discreet use of their tracts, can bear, and many of them ha'oe borne, ample testimony to the advantages resulting from them. Next to the stated offices of divine worship, and the regular instructions from the pulpit, it is evident, that nothing can contribute more to excite and keep alive a due sense of Religion in the minds of the common people, than supplying them constantly with a variety of well- composed and well-chosen religious treatises, each of them judiciously adapted to their respective necessi- ties. It supplies, in some degree the want of that most useful branch of ministerial duty which has, I fear, of late years, grown but too much into disuse, personal conference ivith our parishioners ; for which, unless we have some such substitute as this, we shall find, proba- bly, that our public instructions will produce much less effect than they naturally ought. There is another argument for the distribution of small religious tracts among the common people, which has, I think, considerable weight. It appears, that this is the very mode made use of by the adversaries of our Religion, in order to undermine and destroy it. They consider small tracts of infidelity, as the best and most effectual method of disseminating irreligion among their readers and admirers ; and accordingly, have cm- ployed all their talents in composing, and all their in- dustry in dispersing them over the A\orldf. • Even within the last fifty years, the numbor of hooks and tracts distrl- Wuted by them has amounted lo no less than 2,834,ori. t It is certain, that M. Voltaire, in particular, has written innumerable little pieces against Revelation ; that he prided himself greatly in having found out this method of enligbtening the world : and that he was highly ap- plauded by Mr. D'Alembert and others for the wisdom and prudence of his conduct in this respect. Aaa 386^ SERMON XXX. Let us then endeavor to foil our enemies at tlielr own weapons, which will surely prove more powerful, and more successful, in the hands of truth, than in those of error ; and let us with that view, give all pos- sible encouragement to a Society, which is instituted for the very purpose of furnishing us with a constant supply of the best helps towards counteracting the per- nicious designs of those who " set themselves against ^' us;" who make use of every artifice to deprive us of all Religion, or to introduce a corrupt one. Inconsiderable and trivial as the little treatises dis- persed by the Society may seem, yet it is by the re- peated efforts of such small instruments as these, that the greatest effects are often produced,- Their num- bers, their plainness, and their cheapness, will give them a force and efficacy, and extent of circula- tion, which much more voluminous and more labored compositions may not be able to acquire ; just as we see that the lowest and humblest, and most numerous bodies of men, not the opulent and splendid few, are those that constitute the real strength and wealth of the community. It has been frequently asserted, that it is philosophy, modern philosophy, which has enlightened and im- proved mankind. But whom has it enlightened and improved ? A small knot, perhaps, of wits and philo- sophers,, and learned men ; but how have the multitude^ the bulk of the people, those who really constitute the world, been enlightened and improved ? Do they read the works of Boiingbroke, of D'Alembert, of Hume, or of Raynal ? Thanks be to God those elaborate and bulky compositions are equally beyond their under- standings to comprehend, their leisure to peruse, and their ability topurchase. And even the smaller pieces above-mentioned of Voltaire and others, are not cal- culated for the loix)est classes of mankind, but for men of some education and some talents. And their ob- ject is not to inform, but to perplex and mislead ; not to convince by argument, but to entertain with strokes of wit and buffoonery. Most fortunately for mankind^ SERMON XXX. 387 the miscliicf of such writings is confined (compara- tively speaking) to a very narrow circle, which their admirers, however, are pleased to dignify with the name of the ivorld. The vulgar, the vile populace, so far are those great philosophers from desiring to in- struct and reform, that they think them utterly unwor- thy of a reasonable reiigio?i. This the most eminent of their fraternity has declared in express terms*. On the other hand, the Author of our Religion declares, that he came '*to preach the Gospel to the poor." — Here, then, you see opposed to each other the spirit of Christianity and the spirit of Philosophy. Judge ye for yourselves, which is most worthy of God and be- neficial to man, and make your choice accordingly. If you take Philosophy for your guide, you will despise the humble employment of diffusing religious know- ledge among the common people ; but if you chuse Christ for your master, you will give a proof of it this day, by patronizing a Society that forms itself on his model, and professes to carry on the great work of reformation which He begun, in the very Avay \\ hich he pointed out, " by preaching the Gospel to the poor." • M. Voltaire, speaking of certain superstitious sects in China, has these very remarkable words : " Ces sectes sont tolerees a la Chine p(Air /' usage *' du Vulgairi, comme des alimens grossiers faits pour le nourrir ; tandis *• que les magistrals and les lettres, separes en tout du peuple, se nourissent *' d'une substance plus pure. Ilsemble en effect que la populace ne tnerite pat ** laie reli^on raisomiable." Essw sur I'Histoije GeneraJcj torn. i. p. 33, 34. SERMON XXXL 1 Cor. ix. 25. Every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things - novj they do it to obtain a corriijitible cro-iVn, but ive an incor- ruptible. THE design of this passage is plainly to recommend the great Christian duly of being " temperate in all things;" that is, of obtaining an entire command over our passions ; or, as it is expressed a few verses after, of " keeping under our bodies, and bringing *' them into subjection." This self-government is in- dispensably necessary, both to the real enjoyment of the present life, and to the possession of everlasting hap- piness in the next. But then, like every thing else that is valuable, it is as diihcult to acquire, as it is useful and excellent ; and it stands in need of the most power- ful arguments to recomm.end and enforce it. One of the strongest is here urged by St. Paul. To raise the courage and invigorate the resolution of the Corinthi- ans, to v/hom the Epistle is addressed, and of all others engaged in the same state of warfare with their corrupt inclinations, he reminds them of the immortal prize they are contending for, that crown of glory which is to recompence their virtuous conflict. And to give this still greater weight, he compares their rewards with those proposed to the competitors in the well-known games or sports which were celebrated near Corinth, In these, all that was contended for, was nothing more than " a corruptible crcwn," a wreath composed of SERMON XXXr. 389 perishable leaves : whereas, the prize of the Christian is an incorruptible one, a crown of glory that fadeth not away, an eternity of real and substantial happiness in Heaven. And yet, poor and contemptible as the re- ward was in those games, they who strove for the mas- tery in them, were temperate in all things, were con- tent to exercise the strictest discipline and abstemious- ness, to abridge themselves both in the quantity and the quality of their diet, to renounce every pleasure and every indulgence that tended to weaken the body, and voluntarily to undergo many hardsiiips in order to prepare themselves for the contest, and " to run so that *' they might obtain." How is it possible, then, after this, for the Christian to complain of the difficulties he has to encounter in this his state of probation, and when celestial rewards are held up to his view, to shrink from the severities throuQ-h which he must arrfvc at them ? If he has any honest ambition in his nature, will he not emulate the ardor and activity of these Gre- cian combatants ? Will he not cheerfully go through a similar course of preparatory discipline ? Will he not impose upon himself a little moderation in his plea- sures, a little self-government and self-denial ? Will he not contentedly give up a few trivial indulgences, and transient gratifications, in order to secure a prize infi- nitely more glorious than theirs ; a croAvn incorruptible, felicity eternal, commensurate to the existence, and suited to the capacity of an immortal soul ? To this irresistible strength of argument St. Paul subjoins, as an additional motive, his own example. *' I therefore," says he, " so run, not as uncertainly," not heedlessly and ignorantly, but with a perfect know- ledge of the course I am to pursue, the rules I am to observe, the prize I am to aim at, and the conditions on which it is to be attained. I do not act at random, but upon sure grounds. My views are steadily fixed on the grand point, and I press forwards in the way marked out with unwearied vigor and perseverance. -" So fight I, not as one that beateth the air." In this Christian combat I do not mis- spend my activity, arid S90 SERMON XXXI. exert my powers to no purpose ; I do not fight with my own shadow, or with an imaginary antagonist*, wasting my strength on the empty air ; but I strive for the mastery in good earnest ; I consider myself as ha- ving r€al enemies to combat, the world, the flesh, and the devil ; I know that my life, my salvation, my all, is at stake ; and therefor€, in imitation of the competi- tors in the Isthmian game, I exercise a strict govern- ment over myself; I subdue my rebellious passion^ by continual acts of self-denial ; " I keep under my bo- " dy, and bring it into subjection," lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway. Such is the reasoning of this eloquent apostle at large ; and it behoves us all to pay due attention to it ; for, though in one circumstance we do not all resemble him, are not all appointed to preach to others ; yet are we all, like him, engaged in the Christian conflict with passion and temptation ; and must, like him, either come ofli* victorious in it, and gain the prize, or be sliamefully subdued, and lose our own souls. Ever since the unhappy fall of our first parents, and the confusion introduced by it into our moral frame, the passions have acquired so much strength and bold- ness, that they aspire to nothing less than an absolute sovereignty over the soul ; and we are reduced to the necessity of either governing them, or being governed by them. This is literally the choice proposed to us at our first entrance into life ; and it concerns us to weigh and consider it well ; for we can never de- cide on a question of more importance. It is this chiefly that must determine us to virtue and happi- ness, or to vice and misery. For nothing can be more clear, than that far the greater part of the evils we suffer ourselves, and of those we bring upon others, arise from the dominion of our passions. " From whence come wars and fightings among you ? ^' Come they not hence, even of your lusts, which *' war in your members ?" From whence come mur- le in this life, but which they find in the end to be delusive and un- satisfactory ? It is, in short, a vain and a foolish attempt to think of separating, in any instance, great labor and difficulty from great attainments. And the more vaUiable the acquisition, the more • severe are the hardships that obstruct the way to it. The lowest mechanic arts can never be carried to any degree of perfection without much toil ; works of imagination, intellectual accom- SERMON XXXI. 395 plishments, require still more ; virtue and religion, as being the greatest ornaments of our nature, most of all. But then the reward is in proportion to the labor ; and to renounce the one through a cowardly fear of the other, is one of the meanest thoughts that can enter the human mind. It is hard sometimes, it-is conftfssedly hard, to deny a craving appetite, and to subdue a' vicious habit ; but is it not still harder to lose everlasting happiness for a momentary indulgence ; and, like the wretched Esau, to sell Heaven in reversion for a mess of pottage ? Let us eat and drink, says the voluptuary ; let us in- dulge without delay, and without reserve, every appe- tite of our nature, for *' to-morrow we die," to-mor- row we may cease to exist, and all possibility of any further enjo}^ment will be for ever gone. Let us, then, take our full measure of it while we can. " Let us "enjoy the good things that are present. Let us fill " ourselves with costly wines and ointments ; and *' let no flower of the spring pass by us. Let us " crown ourselves with rose-buds before they be " withered. Let none of us go without his part of " our voluptuousness. Let us leave tokens of our " joy fulness in every place ; for this is our portion, ** and our lot is this*." This language cannot be wondered at, from the man who rejects all idea of a future existence. But it would be folly and madness in him, who believes the Christian doctrine of a re- surrection, and a retribution in another world. To him the conclusion, from the very same premises, must be a directly opposite one. It must be plainly this ; Let us keep our hearts with all diligence, and restrain our passions within the bounds of duty, for to-morrow we may die ; to-morrow we may be called to give an ac- count of our moral conduct to the great Sovereign of the Universe, who has peremptorily commanded us to be temperate in all things. Let this consideration, then, be deeply fixed in our hearts, and be constantly present to our thoughts, and it will, in the hour of trial, add • Wisdom ji. 6. 10. 396 SERMON XXXI. strength to our resolutions, and fortitude to our souls. It is not, it must be confessed, a very easy task to keep that strict and steady command over ourselves which Christianity requires. But we must not be much surprized, if the rewards of Heaven are not to be had for nothing. Immortal glory, and everlasting felicity, are not such very trivial things, as to be ob- tained without any exertions on our part. Some price must surely be paid for such an acquisition, something must be given up in present for an inheritance of such infinite value in future. " There is but one paradise *' for men," said Mahomet, (turning away his eyes from the tempting prospect of Damascus) " there is *' but one paradise for men, and, fo? my part, I will *' not take mine in this world*." If this sensual im- postor could, in this instance at least, sacrifice present gratification even to his false notions of future happi- ness, well may we be content to endure a litde tempo- rary self-denial for the sake of a recompence hereafter, perfect in its nature, and endless in its duration. It is true, indeed, that taking all things into the account, the yoke of our divine Master is easy, and his burthen is light. Yet still there is a yoke, there is a burthen to bear. We are to take up our cross, and on that cross we are to crucify our affections and lusts. In the suc- cessive stages of our existence here, successive adver^ saries rise up to oppose our progress to Heaven, and bring us into captivity to sin and misery. Pleasure, interest, business, power, honor, fame, all the follies and all the corruptions of this world, each in their turn, assail our feeble nature, and through these we must manfully fight our way to the great end we have in view. But the difficulty and the pain of this contest will be infinitely les- sened, by a resolute and vigorous exertion of our powers, jind our resources at our first setting out in life. If we strenuously resist those enemies of our salvation that present themselves to us in our earliest youth, all the rest that follow in our mature age will be an easy con- quest. On him, who in the beginning of life has kept * Maundrell, p. 121. SERMON XXXr. 397 himself unspotted from the world, all its subseo/ient attractions and allurements, all its magnificence, Avealth, and splendor, will make litde or no impression. A mind that has been long habituated to discipline, re- straint, and self-command, amidst far more powerful temptations, will have nothing to apprehend from such assailants as these. But our great and principal secu- rity is assistance from above, which will never be denied to those who fervently apply for it. And with the om- nipotence of divine grace to support us, and an eter- nity of happiness to reward us, what is there that can shake our constancy, or corrupt our fidelity ? Set yourselves, then, without delay, to acquire an early habit of strict self-government, and an early in- tercourse with your Almighty Protector. Let it be your first care to establish the sovereignty of reason, and the empire of grace, over your souls, and it will soon be no pain to you ; but, on the contrary, a real pleasure " to be temperate in all things." Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit yourselves like men, be strong, be resolute, be patient. Look frequendy up to the prize that is set before you, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds. Consider, that every pang you feel on account of your duty here, will be placed to your credit, and increase your happiness, hereafter. The conflict with your passions will grow less irksome every day, a few years will put an entire end to it, and you will then, to your unspeakable comfort, be enabled to cry out with St. Paul, " I have fought a good fight, " I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. *' Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right- " eousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall '* give me at that day." SERMON XXXII. Matthew xxvii. 54. Truly this tuas the Son of God. WE have here a testimony of the divine character of our blessed Lord, which must be considered as in the highest degree impartial and incorrupt. It is the testimony not of friends, but of enemies ; not of those who were prepossessed in favor of Christ and his Religion, but of those who, by habit and education, were prejudiced, and strongly prejudiced against them. It is, in short, the voice of nature and of truth ; the honest unpremeditated confession of the heathen centu- rion, and the soldiers under him, whom the Roman governor had appointed as a guard over the crucifixion of our Lord. So forcibly struck were these persons with the behavior of Jesus, and the astonishing cir- cumstances attending his death, that they broke out involuntarily into the exclamation of the text, *' Truly *' this was the Son of God." Different opinions, it is well known, have been en- tertained by learned men concerning the precise sense in which the centurion understood Christ to be tbe Son of God. But without entering here into any critical niceties (which do not in the least affect the main ob- ject of this discourse) I shall only observe in general, that even after making every abatement which either grammatical accuracy, or parallel passages, may seem to require, the very lowest meaning we can affix to the SERMON XXXII. 399 text, in any degree consistent with the natural force of the language, and the magnitude of the occasion is this:, that the centurion, comparing together every thing he had seen, and rising in his expressions of admiration, as our Lord's encreasing magnanimity grew more and more upon his observation, concluded him to be not only a person of most extraordinary virtue, and most transcendent righteousness, but of a nature more than human, and bearing evident marks of a divine original. That his conclusion went at least so far as this, will appear highly probable from considering the two dis- tinct grounds on which it was founded. The first was, the attention with which the centuri* on appears to have marked the whole behavior of our Lord during the dreadful scene he passed through, from the beginning to the end of his suftbrings upon the cross. He placed himself, as St. Mark informs us, over against Jesus. From that station he kept his eye constantly fixed upon him, and observed, with anxious care, every thing he said or did. And when he saw the meekness, the patience, the resignation, the firmness, with which our Lord endured the most ex- cruciating torments; when he heard him at one time praying fervently for his murderers ; at another dis- posing, with dignity and authority, of a place in para- dise, to one of his fellow-sufferers ; and, at length, with that confidence which nothing but conscious vir- tue, and conscious divinity, could, at such a time, in. spire, recommending his spirit into the hands of his heavenly Father ; from these circumstances, what other inference could the centurion draw than that Jesus was not merely a righteous but a heavenly-born person ? But there was another, and that a still more power- ful proof of our Lord's celestial origin, which offered itself to the centurion's notice ; I mean the astonishing events that took place when Jesus expired ; the agita- tion into which all nJ\ture seemed to be thrown, the darkness, the earthquake, the rending of rocks, the opening of graves, miracles which the centurion con- 400 SERMON XXXII. ceived, and justly conceived, were not likely to be wrought on the death of a 7nere mortal*. And, indeed, it must be acknowledged, that the miracles recorded, and the prophecies accomplished, in iJie history of Christ, are the two great pillars on which our faith in him must principally rest. But as an enquiry into this sort of proof, would lead us into an argument much too extensive and too complex for our present purpose, I shall content myself with en-- larging a little on that other kind of evidence above- mentioned, the character and conduct of our divine Master. Of this the centurion saw nothing more per- liaps than the closing scene. And if this operated so forcibly, as it seems to have done, on his mind, how powerfully must ours be affected, b}^ taking into the ac- count the virtues which Jesus displayed through life, as well as those he manifested at his death ? We may reasonably expect, that it will at once confirm the feith of those who believe, and produce conviction in those who do not. Were we only to say of our Saviour, what even Pi- late said of him, that we can find no fault in h'lm^ that the whole temper of his soul, and the whole tenor of his life, were absolutely blameless throughout; that from the first moment of his birth, to his last agony on the cross, he never once fell into the smallest error of conduct, never once spake unadvisedly with his lips ; were we, I say, to confine ourselves solely to this nega- tive kind of excellence, it is more than can be said of any other person that ever }'et came into the world. But great and uncommon as even this sort of perfec- tion is, it forms but a very small part of that which belonged to Jesus. He was not only exempt from eve- ry the slightest failing, but he possessed and practised every imaginable virtue that was consistent with his situation ; and that^ too, in the highest degree of ex- cellence to which virtue is capable of being exalted. That idea of complete goodness which the ancient phi- loso])hers took so much fruitless pains to describe, and * Sec Dr. Dodilridje's n'Jte fioni^F.Kiier in his exposition of this passage. SERMON XXXII. 401 which they justly thought would so strongly attract the affections of men if it could be made visible, was in the person of the Holy Jesus, and /;/ }jim only^ since the world began, presented to the eyes of mankind. His ardent love for God, his zeal for the service, his resignation to the will, his unreserved obedience to the commands of his heavenly Father ; the compas- sion, the kindness, the solicitude, the tenderness, he showed for the whole human race, even for the worst of sinners and the bitterest of his enemies ; the perfect command he had over his own passions ; the consum- mate prudence with which he eluded all the snares that were laid for him ; the wisdom, the justness, the deli- cacy of his replies ; the purity and the gentleness of his manners : the sweetness yet dignity of his deportment; the mildness with which he reproved the mistakes, the prejudices, and the failings of his disciples; the tem- per he preserved under the severest provocations from his enemies ; the patience, tlie composure, the meek- ness, with which he endured the cruellest insults, and the grossest indignities ; the fortitude he displayed un- der the most painful and ignominious death that hu- man ingenuity could devise, or human malignity inflict; and that divinely charitable prayer w hich he put up for his murderers in the very midst of his agony : " Father, " forgive them, for they know not what they do :" all these, and a multitude of other peculiar excellencies in his character, (which it is impossible here to enume- rate,) concur to render him, beyond comparison, the greatest, the wisest, and the best, of men. Considered more particularly as a public teacher, what an understanding must that have been, and whence enlightened, from which so sublime and perfect a sys- tem of piety and morals, as that of the Gospel, proceed- ed, excelling not only all the discoveries of men, and the most perfect systems of Pagan morality, but all the revelations of God made before him*. • For the principal and most valuable part of the six following- pages, I am iiidcWteJ to my Ivite «.\tellent friend and patron Archbi»hop Seeker. C c c 402 SERMON XXXTL But farther still. How astonishing, and from what source inspired, must the mind of that man be, who could entertain so vast a thought in so low a condition, as that of instructing and reforming a %vhole world ; a \\ orld divided between atheism and superstition, but imiversally abandoned to sin ; of teaching the whole race of mankind to live soberly, righteously, and godly here, and leading them on to an eternity of happiness hereafter ? How contemptible a figure do they, who affected to be the conquerors of the world, make, when compared Vvith him who undertook to be the saviour of it ? Then, in the execution of this immense design, what condescension without meanness, what majesty without pride, what firmness without obstinacy, what zeal without bitterness or enthusiasm, what piety with- out superstition ; how wonderful a combination of seemingly most opposite, if any cQuld be opposite, vir- tues ; how exact a temperature of every thing great^= and venerable, and lovely, in his soul ! And another very important and remarkable consideration is, that all these admirable qualities appeared perfectly easy and natural to him, and seemed not to require the least exer- tion of his mind to produce or to support them. And the case was the same in his discourses and his instruc- tions. No emotion when he delivered the most sublime and affecting doctrines,- the most comfortable or most terrifying predictions. The prophets before him faint- ed and sunk under the communications which they re- ceived from above. But truths that overwhelmed the ser'Qants of God, were familiar to his Son, Composed on the grestest occasions, respectable even on the least,, he was at all times the same ; and the uniform dignity and propriety of his behavior throughout, evidently flowed from the inbred grandeur and rectitude of his mind. Tried he was every way (and that in so public a life perpetually) by wicked men, by the wicked one, by friends as well as by enemies ; but far from being overcome, never once disconcerted, never once embar- rassed, but calmly superior to every artifice, to every temptation^ to every difficulty.. SERMON XXXII. 403 Well, then, may we ask, even after this ^'cry short and very imperfect sketch of our Saviour's character, *' \s hence has this man these things, and what wisdom *' is this, that is given unto him f" He had evidently none of the usual means or opportunities of cultiva- ting his understanding, or improving; his heart. He was born in a low and indigent condition, without ed- ucation, without learning, without any models to form himself upon, cidier in his own time, and his own country, or in any records of former ages, that were at all likely to fall into his hands. Yet notwithstanding this, he manifested and supported invariably through life such wisdom and such virtue as were never before found united, and, we may venture to say, never will be again united in any human being. The conse- quence, then, is unavoidable, and one of these two things must be true. Either the character of our Lord, as drawn in the Gospels, must be absolutely ideal and fictitious, existing no where but in the imagination of those who drew it ; or else the person to whom it re- ally belonged must be endowed with powers more than human. For never did mere mortal man either speak or act as Jesus did. If we take the former part of the alternatixe, and affirm, that the portrait of our Saviour, as drawn in the Gospels, is an ideal one ; where, in the first place, shall we find the man that could draw it ? where shall we find the man, mIio, by the mere force of ima- gination, could invent a character at once so abso- lutely perfect, and so truly original ? The circumstan- ces of his uniting the divine and human nature in one person, and of his being at one and the same time the Messiah of the Jews, and the Instructor, the Redeemer, the Mediator, and the Judge of Mankind, are so very peculiar, and so perfecdy new ; and yet all these seve- ral parts are so well supported, and preserved so dis- tinct, and every thing our Saviour said or did is so ad- mirably accommodated to each, that to form such a character as this, without any original to copy it from, exceeds the utmost stretch of human invention. Even 404 Sermon xxxii. the best of the Greek and Roman writers never pro duced any thing to be compared with it, either in point of originality or of excellence, though they frequently exerted themselves to the utmost in forming beautiful J portraits of wisdom, greatness, and goodness of mind, sometimes in the v\'ay of compliment, sometimes of instruction. But however some extraordinary genius, I in the polite and learned nations of the world, might have succeeded in such an attempt, let it be remem- bered that the historians of Jesus were Jews, natives of a remote, and, in general, unlettered corner of the world. How came they by such extraordinary powers of invention ? They have never show n such powers in any other instance. Not even the sublimest of their own sacred books equal, in this respect, the history of the Gospel ; much less their apocryphal writings, much less Philo and Josephus, though instructed in Pagan literature and philosophy. And as to the succeeding rabbies, they have not given the history of a single person that is not over-run with w ildness and absurdi- ty. Or if w^e think it possible, that o7ie Jew, at least, might be found, who, with the help of extraordinary talents, and a better education than any of the rest ever had, might do so much more than any of the rest ever did, what color can there be for applying this to the Evangelists, to those who have been so often and so opprobriously, called the publicans, the tent-makers, and the fishermen of Galilee ? TJjcy had never studied at Athens or at Rome. They had no superior talents, no learning, no education, no skill in designing or co- loring ideal characters. It is not most assuredly, it is not men such as these that indent. Nay, further still, had they been ever so capable of forming such a character as that of our Saviour, what reason in the world is there to imagine, that they would have ascribed it to their Messiah. They expected him to be of a spirit and a behavior widely different from that of the meek, and humble, and passive Jesus. They expected an enterprizing and prosperous warrior, avenging the injurious sufferings of his countrymen, SERMON XXXlI. 405 trampling the nations under his feet, and establishirg the Jewish empire, and with it the Jewish law, throuirh. out the world. Possessed as they were with these no- tions, instead of drawing for their promised Deii\ erer such a portrait as the Gospel presents to us, had they seen it ready drawn, and been asked whose it was, he would have been the last person upon earth for whom they would have conceived it intended. Besides, what conceivable inducement could the sa- cred historians have to impose an imaginary persoi-age upon the world ; and ^rhy, above all, should they per- severe in this imposition, when they saw and fell that hatred, and persecutions and death, were the certain consequences of their maintaining the reality of a cha- racter, which they knew all the m hile to be a mere phantom of their own creation, and could have saved themselves by confessing it ? But even if it were pos- sible that human creatures might, contrary to all hones- ty, and all interest, be thus unaccountably bent on de- ceiving, we have as full evidence as can be, that the Evangelists were not so. There is manifestly an air of simplicity and godly sincerity, of plain, unorna- inented truth in every thing they relate ; nothing wrought up with art, nothing studiously placed in the fairest light to attract the eye, no solicitude to dwell even on the most illustrious parts of our Saviour's cha- racter ; but on the contrary, so dry and cold a manner of telling the most striking facts, and most affecting truths, as furnishes ground to apprehend that they them- selves did not always distinctly perceive the divine wis- dom and excellence of many things said and done by Jesus, and recorded in their books. At least, they have by no means brought them forward into view as they well deserved, and as men w ho n rote imth a design would most certainly have done. This very circum- stance, added to the whole turn and tenor of their \\y\- tings, most clearly proves, that they follow ed v ith re- ligious care, and delivered with scru[ulous fidelity, truth and fact^ as it appeared to them, and iicthing else. 406 SERMON XXXII. It is evident, therefore, upon the whole, that our blessed Lord was, in reality, the very person that he is represented to be in the Gospel. And as he is represented to have possessed a degree of perfection, both intellectual and moral, far beyond what human nature is capable of arriving at, and that, too, without any of the common me^ns of acquiring such perfec- tion, the conclusion can be no other than this, that both he and his religion came from God. But it may still, perhaps, be said, that there is no necessity for supposing any thing supernatural in the case. He was only one of those wonderful and extra- ordinary characters that sometimes appear even in the very lowest stations ; and by the force of great natural talents, and a native dignity of mind, and a constitu- tional goodness of disposition, break out from the ob- scurity of their situation, and rise superior to all the rest of mankind. But besides what has been already insisted on, that no such character as that of Christ is to be found in any nation of the world, in any period of time, or any sit^ nation of life, it must be remembered, that our Lord /jimsel/' \i\ld claim to something ??jore than the character of a great and a good man. He laid claim to a di'vine ori- ginal. He affirmed, that he was the Son of God, and that He and his Father were One. If therefore, this was not the case, he must have been either an enthusi- ast or an impostor. In other words, he must have been a very weak, or a very wicked man. But either of these suppositions is utterly irreconcilable with the description that has just been given of him, with every idea of wisdom and of goodness, which yet he has been proved, and is allowed to have possessed, in their ut- most extent. Whoever, then, acknowledge-s him to be a great, a wise, and a perfectly good man, ??2ust al- so, on his o%vnpri?iciples allow him that divinity which he claimed. Here, then, is a proof of the divine authority of our Lawgiver, and our religion, which every one may com- prehend, and which it will not be easy for any one t© SERMON XXXir. 470 withstand. Some allcdge that they want leisure, and others that they want learning or ability, to investigate with sufiicient care and accuracy, the prophetic, the mi- raculous, and the historical evidences of our fliith*. This indeed, is commonly nothing more than mere pretence. But even this pretence is taken away by the argument here offered to their consideration. It is involved in no difficulty, and requires no laborious or cruical exa- mination, no uncommon degree of sagacity or ability to decide upon. Nothing more is requisite than to lay open the Bible, and to contemplate the character of our Lord, as it is there drawn with the most perfect fairness and honesty by the evangelists. Whpever can judge of any thing, can judge of this ; and we know by expe- rience, that it is calculated to carry conviction even in- to the most wnviU'ing minds. We have seen, that even a Pagan centurion, when he beheld Jesus expiring on the cross, could not forbear crying out (and many oth- ers with him) " Truly this was the son of God." And it is very remarkable, that the contemplation of the ve* ry same scene, as described in the Gospel history, ex- torted a similar, but still stronger confession of Christ's divine nature, from one of the most eloquent of modern scepticsf, who has never been accused of too much credulity, and who, though he could bring himself to resist the force even of miracles and of prophecies, 5^et was overwhelmed with the evidence arising from the character, the conduct, and the sufferings of Christ, *' Where," says he, " is the man, where is the phi- losopher, who can act, suffer, and die, without weak- ness, and without ostentation ? When Plato describes his imaginary just man, covered with all the opprobri- um of guilt, yet at the same time meriting the subli- mest rewards of virtue, he paints precisely every feature in the character of Jesus Christ. The resemblance is so striking, that all the fathers have observed it, and it is • The proofs of Christianity depend on the laborious investigation of his- toric evidence, and speculative theology. History cf the decline of thc'Itonia* Evipini, vol. 3. [i. 366. t Rosseau. 408 SERMON XXXIL impossible to be deceived in it. What prejudice, what blindness, must possess the mind of that man who dares to compare the son of SophroniscustotheSonof Mary ! What a distance is there between the one and the oth- er ! The death of Socrates, philosophizing calmly with his friends, is the >.Liost identic that can be wished ; that, of Jesus expiring in torments, insulted, derided, and reviled by all the people, the most horrible that can be imagined. Socrates taking the poisoned cup, blesses the man who presents it to him ; and who, in the very act of presenting it, melts into tears. Jesus, in the midstof the most agonizing tortures, prays for his en- raged executioners. Yes, if the life and death of Soc- rates are those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus are those of a God*." It is not, then, the prejudice (as it has been called) of a Christian education, it is not the mere dotage of su- perstition, or the mere enthusiasm of pious affection and gratitude towards our Redeemer, which makes us discover in his character plain and evident marks of the Son of God. They have been discovered and ac- knowledged by men who were troubled with no such religious infirmities ; by one man who was a professed Pagan, and by another man who, without professing it, and perhaps without knowing it, was in fact httle better than a Pagan. On the strength of these testimonies, then, added to the proofs which have been here addu- ced, we may safely assume it as a principle, that Jesus is the Son of God. The necessary consequence is, that every thing he taught comes to us with the weight and sanction of divine authority, and demands from every sincere disciple of Christ implicit belief, and im- plicit obedience. We must not, after this, pretend (as is now too much the prevailing mode) to select just what we happen to like in the Gospel, and lay aside all the rest ; to admit, for instance, the moral and precep- tive part, and reject all those sublime doctrines which are peculiar to the Gospel, and which form the wall of partition between Christianity, and what is called natu- * Emilc, V. 2. p. 16r, SERMON XXXIt. 409 \'d\ religion. This is assuming a liberty, and creating a distinction, which no believer in the divine authority of our Lord, can on any ground justify. Christ de- livered all his doctrines in the name of God. He re- quired that all of them, without exception, should be received. He has given no man a licence to adopt just as much, or as little of them, as he thinks fit. He has authorized no one human being to add thereto, or di- minish therefrom. Let us, then, never presume thus to new model the Gospel, according to our own particular humor or ca- price, but be content to take it as God has thought fit to leave it. Let us admit, as it is our bounden duty, on the sole ground of his authority, those mysterious truths \\ hich are far beyond the reach of any finite understanding, but which it was natural 2C[i^ reasonable to expect, in a revelation pertaining to that incompre- hensible Being, " the High and Lofty One that inhabit- *' eth eternity*." " Let us not exercise ourselves in " great matters, which are too high for us, but refrain " our souls and keep them lowf." Laying aside all the superfluity and all the pride of human wisdom, " let *' us hold fast the profession of our faith without wa- " vering," without refining, without philosophizing. Let us put ourselves, without delay and without reserve, into the hands of our heavenly Guide, and submit our judgments, with boundless confidence to his direction, who is " the way, the truth, and the life|." Since we hw%v in whom we believe ; since it has been this day proved by one kind of argument, and might be proved by a thousand others, that he is the Son of God ; let us never forget that this gives him a right, a divine right, to the obedience of our understandings^ as well as to the obedience of our 'wills. Let us, therefore, resolutely beat down every bold imagination, "every " high thing that exulteth itself against the knowledge " of God ; bringing into captivity every thought to the " obedience of Christ, and receiving with meekness the " ingrafted word, that is able to save our souls§-" • Iraiah Ivii. 15. \ Ps. cxxxi 1. \ John x:v. 6. § James i. 21. D d d SERMON XXXIII*. Psalm xxvii. 16. tarry thou the Lord's leisure ; be strong, and he shall cotn^ fort thine heart ; and put thou thy trust in the Lord. THAT this life is not, and was not intended to be, a state of perfect happiness, or even of constant ease and tranquillity, is a truth which no one will be disposed to controvert. That we are beset with dan- gers, and exposed to calamities of various kinds, which we can neither foresee nor avert, is equally certain. It is a fact, which, probably, most of those who now hear me know too well, from their own experience ; and the rest will most assuredly know it, full time enough: for there cannot be a weaker or more childish imagina- tion, than to flatter ourselves with the hope of passing through the world without our share of those calami- ties, which are inseparable from mortality. Affliction, then, of one kind or other, being unavoidable, it is evi- dently a matter of the very last importance to every human being, to enquire carefully what are the best and most solid supports and consolations under it ; where they are to be found, and how lo be secured. Now, the shortest and most effectual way of obtaining satisfaction on these points is, to apply to men of the best judgment, and most experience in the case; to those who have themselves passed through the greatest variety of sufferings, have sought for every possible • Preached at St. Paul's on the Thanksgiving day, for his Majesty's re- •overy, April 23, 1789. SERMON XXXIII. 411 alleviation of them that could be found, and a^etherc- fore the best able to decide on the value and the effica- cy of the remedies they have actually tried. If we turn our thoughts to men of this description, we shall find few persons better qualified to give us complete inform ition on this head, than the Royal Author of the text before us. He was initiated early in the school of adversity ; and though he was afterwards raised, by the hand of Providence, to a throne, yet, in that exalt- ed situation, he experienced a long succession of the severest trials, and the bitterest afflictions, that are incident to human nature. How much he felt on these occasions, is sufficiently evident from his writings, in which he gives vent to the distress and agony of his soul in the strongest and most impassioned language that grief can dictate. Yet with these complaints are mingled generally the warmest expressions of gratitude and thankfulness, for the unspeakable comforts he fre- quently experienced under these calamities, and the hopes he entertained, not only of being enabled to bear them patiently, but of finally triumphing over them. From whence, then, were these comforts and these hopes derived ? This is the great question ; the great object of our present inquiry. And the answer to it is infeu^ words. They were derived from trust in God. This it was w^hich he declared to be his great refuge in distress, his shield, his rock, his castle, his house of defence, his best and firmest stay under all his various misfortunes. This holy confidence is, in- deed, the most striking and prominent feature in his character. It discovers itself in every page of his writings. It sometimes throws a ray of cheerfulness even over his gloomiest moments, and unexpectedly turns his heaviness into joy. *' In the Lord put I my *' trust," says he, *' how say ye then to my soul, that ** she should flee as a bird unto the hill ? The Lord is *' my refuge, and my God is the strength of my con- *' fidence. In the multitude of the sorrows that I had " in my heart, thy comforts have refreshed my soul. 412 SERMON XXXIII. " They that know thy name will put their trust in thee, " for thou, Lord, hast never failed them that seek *' thee*." And again, in the words of the text, " O *' tarry thou the Lord's leisure ; be strong, and he " shall comfort thine heart ; and put thou thy trust «' in the Lord.'* This great example, then, is a powerful recommen- dation of that sovereign medicine to the afflicted soul, TRUST IN God. But does Christianity also encou- rage us to have recourse to it ? And does it promise us the same consolation that the Royal Psalmist derived from it ? It promises to us, that if we faithfully serve the great Author and Preserver of our being, he will permit nothing to bcfal us but what is upon the ijohole beneficial to us, and that " he will make all things *' work together for good to them that love himf." He expressly tells us, that " whom he loveth, he *' chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he re- *' ceivethj." Afflictions, therefore, far from being any marks of God's displeasure, are proofs of his kindness to us. They are fatherly corrections, they are friendly admonitions, they are salutary, though un- palatable medicines. They are, in short, instruments in the hands of our Maker, to improve our minds, to rectify our failings, to detach us from the present scene, to fix our affections on things above, and thus form in us that humble and devout temper of mind, and unblemished sanctity of life, which are necessary to qualify us for the great purpose of our creation, the attainment of everlasting happiness in another and a better world. These considerations are a solid ground for that firm TRUST in the wisdom and the goodness of God, which wll be sufficient to support us even when his hand lies heaviest upon us. And we know, in fact, that it has supported the greatest and the best of men under the severest pressure of affliction. But great as this consolation is, our divine Religion has greater still in store for us. We are encouraged to * Vs. xi. 1. xciv. 23. ix. 10. t Rojn. viii. 28. \ Heb. xii. 6. SERMON XXXIII. 413 hope not only for comfort and assistance under affliction, but sometimes also for relief, and even deliverance out of it. We are commanded " to be careful for nothinj^; *' but in every thing by prayer and supplication to make *' our requests known unto God. We are assured, '" that the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man " availeth much ; that the eyes of the Lord are over " the righteous, and his ears arc open to their prayer; " that godliness is profitable unto all things, having " the promise of the life that now is, and of that which " is to come ; and that if we seek first the kingdom of " God, and his righteousness, all other things shall be " added to us*." But how, says the disputer of this world, can these things be ? How is it poLsible that God should thus interpose in behalf of individuals, or even of nations, vi'ithout either interrupting the course of nature, or over-ruling the free agency of his rational creatures ? Admitting for a moment, this supposed difficulty ; who shall presume to say, that the great Governor of the Universe may not, if he sees fit, suspend, or alter, for an instant, those general laws, which he has him- self established ? Who will venture to affirm, that on great and momentous occasions, which involve the fate, not only of the greatest persons, but of the greatest empires upon earth, he may not, even by extraordinary means, bring about such events, as he sees requisite for the general good ? But these suppositions are unnecessary. There are, undoubtedly, a thousand ways in which the Supreme Lord of all may, without the least violation of the or- dinary course of nature, give a new turn to human af- fairs, and produce unexpectedly, the most disastrous or most beneficial effects. He can render the most regular operations of the material world, and the freest actions of his creatures, subservient to his will ; and by the instrumentality of second causes, can accomplish every purpose of his wise and righteous government. He can, for instance, at particular periods, raise up ♦ Phil. iv. 6. James v. 16. 1 Pet. iii. 12. 1 Tim. iv. 8. Matth. vi. 33. 414 SERMON XXXIII. persons with dispositions and talents peculiarly adapted to the execLition of his designs. He can place them •in circumstances and situations, and present to their minds objects and incitements calculated to promote the gracious ends he has in view. He can so dis- pose, adjust, and combine the common occurrences of life, as to draw from them whatever consequences he thinks fit ; and (as almost every day's experience may convince us) he can, by incidents the most trivial, and apparently the most fortuitous, give birth to the most important changes and revolutions on the great theatre of the world. That by these and various other means (utterly be- yond the reach of our conceptions) he both may, and will, whenever he sees it expedient, interpose in the concerns of men ; and that he will more particularly sometimes rescue his faithful servants from impending misery and ruin, is so far from being incredible, or even improbable, that it would be injurious to the honor and dignity of his government, it would be re- pugnant to all our ideas of his moral attributes, and even to the clearest principles of reason and sound phi- losophy, to suppose the contrary. It would be preposterous to maintain, that he has so entirely given up the reins of government out of his hands, so irrevokably bound himself by fixt and im- mutable laws and ordinances, that he can never, in any circumstances, or on any emergency, show him- self plainly to be the Sovereign Ruler of the World. That he should thus manifest himself at proper inter- vals to the sons of men, not only to protect the good, but to awaken the thoughtless from that forgetfulness of him, into which they are but too apt to fall, seems highly requisite, and worthy of him who is the great Lord of the Universe. All ages, and all nations, have concurred in believing such interpositions of the Al- mighty, and have applied to him on that belief; and Revelation places the doctrine beyond all controversy. And, thanks be to God, these conclusions of reason, and these promises of Scripture, have been happily con- SERMON XXXIII. 415 firmed to us by our own repeated experience. There is not a nation upon earth, that has been favored with a greater nunil)er of provic'ential deliverances than our own ; and there are none of these that are impressed with plainer and more unequivocal marks of a divine interposition, than that \\hich is now the subject of our thanksgivings to Heaven. Incredulity itself has been compelled to own, that the hand of God has been visi- ble on the present occasion ; nor is the joy of the nation more universal, than its belief of that great and important truth. But above all the heart of our Sove- reign is deeply impressed with this conviction, that IN God w^as his help ; and that, ro his peculiar bles- sings on the means used for his recovery, that recovery is to be ascribed. Throughout the whole of his severe trial, his trust in God never forsook him : and be- fore that God he now appears in this holy and venera- ble structure, surrounded with his faithful and affec- tionate subjects, to offer up in the most public manner, and with a seriousness and a solemnity suited to the occasion, his praises and thanksgivings for those sig- nal mercies, which have been so recently vouchsafed to him, and through him to his whole kingdom. A spectacle more striking, more awful, more dignified, more interesting, more edifying, has scarce ever been presented to the observation of mankind. I know not w hether we are to except even that celebrated one recorded in the first book of Kings, where a great and a pious monarch, in the presence of his whole kingdom, prostrated himself before that magnificent edifice, which he had just erected to the honor of his Maker, and then spreading forth his hands towards Heaven, poured out the devout emotions of his soul, in that inimititble prayer delivered dou n to us in the sacred v\ritings*. This, it must be confessed, was a scene most eminently calculated to raise the soul to- wards Heaven ; to fill it w iih the sublimest concep- tions of the Leity, and to impress it w iih the live- liest sentiments of veneration, piety, devotion, and ' 1 Kings viii. 1Z. 416 SERMON XXXIII. gratitude. And surely effects of a similar nature, and little inferior in degree, may be expected from the pre- ^nt awful solemnity* For though the two occasions are, it must be owned, in some respects dissimilar ; though we are not now met to dedicate a temple to God ; yet we are met, I trust, for a still nobler dedi- cation, for the dedication of a whole people, with their sovereign at their head, to their Almighty Pro- tector, their common Benefactor, and Deliverer ; for the dedication of ourselves, our souls and bodies, throughout the whole course of our future lives, to his worship, his service, his laws, and his religion. No- thing less than this can be any adequate return to our heavenly Father, for raising up our beloved Sovereign from the bed of sickness, and preserving to us, in his person, every thing that is dear and valuable to us, as Men, as Britons^ and as Christians. For how is it possible, on such an occasion as the present, not to remember, or not to acknowledge, the many other in- valuable blessings we possess, as well as that which completes and confirms them ail, that which we this day commemorate ? Are we not as a people West be- yond example, and almost beyond belief? Do we not enjoy the purest mode of worship, the best constituted form of government, the most eciual laws, the most able and most upright administration of justice ? Are we not perfectly secure in our persons, our properties, our civil and relisrious liberties ? Are not ourmanufac- o tures flourishing, our population encreasing, our pub- lic burdens gradually lessening, our agriculture highly improved, our commerce boundless ? Are not the marks of jjeace, of comfort, of cheerfulness, of afflu- ence, visible on every side ; and are not our credit, and reputation abroad, commensurate to our prosperity and happiness at home ? If this be a true picture of our situation, how* can we ever express, as we ought, our thankfulness to the gra cious Author of all these mercies ? It is not the observance, it is not the de/otion, however ardent, of a simple dav, that can be a sufficient evidence of our SERMON XXXIir. 417 gratitude. The only sure and certain proof of onr sin- cerity, is the reformation of our hearts, and the fut/jre holiness of our lives. This is a language which ea\^noc be mistaken ; a language which speaks to the senses of mankind, and is sure of being heard and accepted at the Throne of Grace. In the exterior acts of v\ orship, our hearts may not always accomjxmy our lips. We may be lukewarm, inattentive, or insincere. Rut he, who from a principle of gratitude to Heaven, renounces diose flu'orite sins, which most easily beset him, and devotes himself to the service of his Maker, can never be suspected of pretended sanctity or hypocritical devo- tion. Here, then, at this solemn hour, and in ^his sa- cred place, when we are offering up our thanksii'vings to God, let us, at the same time, sacrifice, at the foot of his altar, our vices, our follies, our passionate fond- ness for diversions, our excessive attachments to any pursuits that tend to draw oif our afi^etions from Hea- ven and heavenly things : and more especially our fre- quent, our growing profanations of that sacred day which our Maker claims as his own ; whieh is the great security and bulwark of our Religion ; the great barrier against the inroad of secularity and dissipation ; which ought never to be debased by unbecoming levi- ties, by worldly occupations, by dangerous amusements, by any thing, in short, that tends to desecrate the Chris- tian Sabbath, to obliterate that mark of discrimination, which divine authority, and primitive usage, have stannped upon it, and to sink it into the common mass of unhallowed days. It is a festival, we own, it is a most joyful festival ; but it is a religious one too ; and it should be observed, not with inteniperate gaiety, nor yet with a gloomy and austere superstition, but widi that rational piety, that decent, modest, chastised, and sober cheerfulness, wliich so w ell becomes the charac- ter of the day ; and which (\\ith some exceptions) has, in fact, usually distinguished it in this kingdom. It is a distinction whiehdoes honor to us as a people. It is what few odier Christian countries can boast. It is E ee 418 SERMON XXXIII. altogether worthy of the first Protestant Church in Eii-» rope ; and no reasoning, no ridicule, no false ambition to imitate the freer manners of our neighbors on the continent, should ever induce us to give it up. But, at the same time, let not external observances constitute the ixihole of our Religion ; let us be Chris- tians, not in name and appearance only, but in deed and in truth ; and, above all, let us cultivate that hea\;,pnly spirit of meekness, gentleness, forbearance, candor, equity and charity, which is the distinguishing character of the Gospel, and which ought to mark distinctly every part of our conduct, both public and private. Let it instantly banish from our hearts " all bitterness, *' and wrath, and clamor, and anger, and evil speaking, " with all malice ;" and let us become, what we have every reason upon earth to become, a contented, a thankful, a united, a virtuous, a religious people. Let this place be the grave of every unchristian sentiment and passion ; let this day be the aera of general harmony and concord. We have met here in joy ; let us depart in peace. Let us, both as individuals and as members of the community (for the precept applies to us in both capacities) be " kind and tender-hearted one to- *' wards another," watchful over ourselves, respectful and dutiful to all our lawful superiors, grateful and obedient to God. If these be our resolutions respecting our future con- duct, we may then safely apply to ourselves that sub- lime benediction with which Solomon dismissed the people, when the great business of the dedication was closed. " May the Lord our God be with us, as he was *' with our fathers; let him not leave us nor forsake *' us. That he may incline our hearts unto him, to *' walk in all his ways, and to keep his command- *' ments, and his statutes, and of his judgments, which " be commanded our fathers. And let these my words, *' wherewith I have made supplication before the Lord, *' be nigh unto Uie Lord our God, day and night, that " he may maintain the cause of his servant, and the SERMON XXXIII. 419 *' cause of his people, at all times, as the matter shall " require. That all the people of the earth may know *' that the Lord is God, and that there is none else. *' Let your heart therefore be perfect with the Lord *' our God, to walk in his statutes, and to keep his com- *^ mandments as at this day*." • 1 Xings, viii. 57—61. SERMON XXXIV. Luke x. 41, 42. Jesus ansvjered and said unto her., Martha^ Martha^ thou art care- ful and troubled about many things ; but one thing is nee df id : and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken a'ivay from her, E are now once more arrived at the commence- ment of that season*, which the Church of Eng- land has sei apart for the purpose of enquiring into the state of our account with God, of reviewing our past and present way of thinking and acting with a critical and searching eye ; of looking well if there be any way of wickedness In us, of turning from it if there be, of confessing and lamenting our disobedience and ingrati- tude to our heavenly Father, of imploring his pardon, of entreating the assistance of his holy spirit, and under his guidance forming the inost serious resolutions to correct and amend, without delay, whatever we find amiss in our temper, principles, and conduct. This is the true spirit and meaning of the religious solemnity of this dayy , and the holy season which follows it ; this is the substance and the essence of what is called in Scripture language, and in the epistle we have just heard, " turning to the Lord with weeping, fasting, and *' mourninp-." And what is there in all this, but that sort of solicitude concerning our spiritual condition, and our future prospects, which every man of common • Lent. \ Ash Wednesday. SERMON XXXIV. 421 sense, if he thinks them worth his notice, must see to be not only highly reasonable, but indispcnsni^ly neces- sary ? Is there a man who has any important end in view for the advancement of his fame, his fortune, his rank or consequence in life, who does not frequently think and reflect upon it, who does not give up a large share of his time and attention to it, who does not often shut himself up in his closet to consider whether he is in the right road to it, whether he is taking the most efficacious means to accomplish his end ? We all know that this, and much more than this, is, and must be done, in such cases. And yet, in a case of in- finitely greater moment, we conceive all this care and attention to be perfectly needless. We expect to go to Heaven without so much as giving our- selves the trouble to inquire, at proper intervals, whether we possess the qualifications required of all who are allowed to enter there ; whether the course of action we are pursuing will lead us to the point we profess to have in view. The church calls upon us to give up a few hours at stated times, for a few weeks, to those great objects which \^e all acknow- ledge to be the most important that can engage the at- tention of a human being. But the world calls us another way ; it calls us a thousand different ways ; and which call is it that we obey ? Look around and see what it is that occupies, and is likely to occupy, for the next six ^veeks, the greater part of the inhabi- tants of this gay and dissipated metropolis. Is it re- tirement, is it prayer, is it self-examination, is it re- pentance, is it prostration and humiliation of their souls before God ? It is almost preposterous to ask the question. Some, it is true, there are, and, I trust, not a few, that have not yet bowed the knee to Baal ; who have not yet fallen down before those idols of sin, of plea- sure, of interest, of ambition, which the world has set up to worship ; who love God with all their heart, and soul, and mind, and strength ; who dedicate not only this day and this season, but a large proportion of every day to his service, and pay aa uniform and con- 422 SERMON XXXIV. stant obedience to his commands. But great numbers, it cannot be denied, (would to God it could) pursue a very different course, and think it meanness to adore the God that made them. Far from rending eithef their hearts or their garments on such occasions as the present, they treat, with sovereign contempt, every ordinance of the church to which they belong ; and this, above all others, they affect not only to despise, but to detest. They cannot bear, it seems, they shud- der at the very thought, they cannot bear to draw down imprecations, such as the service of this day contains, on themselves and their neighbors, and to pronounce their own condemnation with their own mouths. Absurd and thoughtless men ! Do they, then, imagine, that if these imprecations are not sanctioned by their own lips, they will be of no avail ? From whom do they originally proceed ? From God himself. They are the terrors, not of man, but of the Lord. And do the threatenings of God want the confirmation of man, before they can take effect ? Will not the un- merciful, the drunkard, the extortioner, the fornicator, the adulterer, the murderer, the curser of his father and his mother, will not these, and all the rest of the black catalogue of sinners enu merated this day, receive their due punishment hereafter, if you are only so ten- der-hearted, and so indulgent, as not to pronounce their sentence here ? Alas ! that sentence is already pronounced by their Almighty Judge. It is recorded in the books of Heaven ; and though every tongue on earth were silent, nay, though every tongue should join in glossing over, and even justifying all or any of these crimes, that sentence will assuredly be pronounced on all impenitent offenders. Deceive not, then, yourselves with any such vain imagination, as if any thing you could say, or forbear to say, would alter one iota in the judicial decrees of the Almighty Sove- reign of the universe. There is, indeed, one thing that can change them. But that depends not on you, but on the sinner himself. It depends not on what he says, baton what he does. " When the wicked man SERMON XXXIV. 425 " turneth away from his wickedness that he hath com- *' mitted, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he *' shall save his soul alive*." This is the only way of averting those dreadful maledictions you have this day heard denounced ; and it is to bring men to this way, to stamp upon their souls a strong conviction of the danger of sin, and the necessity of a speedy repent- ance, that our church has thought fit to make use of such strong and impressive terms. It does not, it must be owned, prophesy smooth things. It does not, in a mortal disease, deceive and flatter the patient with soft and soothing palliatives. It tells him what, in his condition, it is highly fitting he should know, the plain truth in plain words. It selects, out of Scrip- ture itself, the most awakening admonitions which that sacred book contains. It makes use of that inspired language which is quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword, which probes our wounds to the bottom, and reaches the most secret maladies oi* the heart. In fact, almost the whole of the service of this day, which has been so often, and so unjustly cen- sured, is expressed in the very words of Scripture ; and whoever thinks fit either to condemn or to ridicule it, is not condemning the English liturgy, but the word of God. But I am, perhaps, taking up too much of your time in combating this pretended objection to the forms of the day. The real objection, I apprehend, does not lie here. It lies much deeper. When so much pains are taken to find fault with words and phrases taken from holy writ, it creates a strong suspicion, that all is not as it should be in another place. Let us con- fess liie truth. The fault is not in our Common Pray« er-books, but in our hearts. " My brethren, if our " hearts condcnm us not, then have we confidence " towards Godf ;" then shall we have confidence to look his terrors steadily in the face, and to join, with- out fear, in the stronj^est dcnujiciations against sin that the church can prescribe to us. But if our hearts con- • Kzek. jviii, '27, f 1 J^lm, lii. 21. 424 SERMON XXXIV. demn us, if they reproach us with habitually indulging irregular desires of wealth, of pleasure, or of power, with neglecting or insulting our Maker, and trampling under foot his most sacred laAvs, no wonder that our lips tremble, and our souls shik within us, while we repeat his awful judgments against such offences. The true way, then to remove all obstacles to a proper inter- course between God and us at this time, and at all times, is to pluck up from our hearts those evil habits, and criminal passions, that bar up our access to the throne of grace. The chief impediments to this intercourse are vice, pleasure, and business. The two first of these 1 have considered in some former discourses from this place*. The last will be the subject of what I have now to offer to your consideration. With this view I have chosen the history of the two sisters Martha and Mary ; a history with a\ hich you are all so perfectly well acquainted, that it is needless to recite the particulars of it. Martha, we know, was so overwhelmed with family cares and embarrassments, so immoderately anxious to provide an entertainment wor- thy ofher illustrious guest, so cumbered, as our version very energetically expresses it, ivitb much serving, that, like many others engaged in the bustle of active life, she conceived the business she was employed in to be the most important of all human concerns. She fanci- ed that every thing else ought to give way to it, and that her sister Mary was most miserably wasting her time by sitting at the feet of Jesus, and listening to his hea- venly conversation. How astonished, then, and mor- tified must she be, when, on calling out for her sister to help her, she received from our Lord, that v»'ell- known reproof, mingled, however, with the most affec- tionate and salutary advice lo her, and to all those that happen to entertain similar sentiments, and to be in similar circumstances, with herself. " Martha, Mar- ^' tha, thou art careful and troubled about many things, *' but one thing is needful ; and Mary hath chosen that *' good part, which shall not be taken a^^•ay from her." * See Sermoni 14 and 31. SERMON XXXIV. 425 The one thing needful, then, we see, is an earnest desire of spiritual instruction and spiritual improve- ment, or, in other words, a serious and constant regard to our everlasting welfare. But how few are there, in comparison, who uniform- ly act on these principles ; and what multitudes, on the contrary, are there who are so completely entangled in the various occupations of a busy and a tumultuous life, that, they are, like Martha, much more disposed to cry out for help in their worldly employments, than to take away any part of their attention from them to bestow on the concerns of another life. ,:^- That the pursuits these people are engaged iiVrii;^y be both important and necessary, I mean not to contro- vert or deny ; but the question, then, is, which is most important and most necessary, the business of this life, or the business of the next. If our temporal and spi- ritual interests happen to interfere, we are not, I think, any where commanded to give the preference to our worldly concerns. It may be said, perhaps, that it would be very ridiculous to sit still, and leave our tem- poral affairs to Providence, expecting that God should feed and clothe us, as he feeds the fowls of the air, qhc^ clothes the lilies of the field. But it would, I am sure, be more ridiculous, and mucb more dangerous, to leave our spiritual welfare to God, that we might, in the mean while, carry on our worldly business without in- terruption. We have abundantly more reason to hbpe, that life may be supported without incessant toil and drudgery, than that we should arrive at heaven without setting one foot forwards ourselves in the way that leads to it. We are told by Christ himself, that if we seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, all those things (that are really necessary) shall be added' unto us*. But we are no where told, that if wc seek first the things of t!us world, tiie kingdom of God, and' all its immortal glories, shall ht thrown into our hands, without any efforts on our part to obtain them. Eter- nal life, and endless felicity, are not things of such very • MaitV. vi.33. F f f 426 SERMON XXXIV. small consequence as to be given us gratuitously over and above what we can acquire in this world, by be- stowing our whole attention upon it. Let it be remembered, too, when we are comparing this life and the next, that in pursuit of our present in- terests, be our industry ever sogreat, we may chance to fail of success. The most indefatigable worldling that ever lived, may, after all his drudgery, be disappointed of his aim ; may, by a thousand accidents not in his power to foresee, or prevent, be deprived of the fruits of his labors, or rendered incapable of enjoying them. And when he has lost this world, he has lost every thing. He has no share or inheritance in the next. He has taken no pains concerning it, and can therefore expect nothing from it. He can draw from it no sup- port or consolation under the loss he has sustained. Whereas the truly devout and religious man has no reason to be in any pain about his temporal aftairs. If they succeed, it is very well ; it is so much clear gains : he has only given them a second place in his thoughts, he has lost nothing for the sake of them ; his condition, in this life, is so much the better ; his prospects here- after not at all the worse. If his views here are frus- trated, he has something to comfort him ; he has se- cured a happiness in reversion which cannot be taken away from him ; he is not afraid of any evil tidings» for his heart standeth fast and believeth in the Lord. Nay, even supposing the very worst that can happen ; supposing he should, by his attention to Religion, be reduced to the most deplorable condition that can be- lal mortality, so as that the body should perish, whilst he is consulting the health of his soul ; the only con- sequence of this last and most grievous calamity would be, to put him in inmiediate possession of that trea- sure, which he had been so industriously laying up in hea\en. But if the man of business, on the contrary, whilst he is heaping together the good things of this world, should receive his final summons to another, it then beho^'cs him to consider not only " whose those *' things shall be which he has provided," but what SERMON XXXIV. 427 tiie lot of his soul shall be for which nothing is provi- ded. It is a serious, it is an alarming consideration, to be summoned unexpectedly to answer for his con- duct, without having once examined it ; to enter upon a state of eternity, without the least preparation made for it. Yet such is but too often the case of that in- fatuated man, who (as it is expressed in the parable) Jayeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich towards God ; who, in the foolish security of his heart, says to his soul, *' Soul, thou hast much jjjoods laid up for '* many years, take thine ease, eat drink, and be mer- ** ry." But in the very midst of this his senseless con- fidence, and visionary plans of future happiness, he is snatched away with that deserved and dreadful taunt, (the prelude only of something still more dreadful) "thou *'• fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee*." If, then, either our temporal or spiritual interests must be entirely neglected for the sake of advancing the other, there can be no doubt which ought to give place. But the truth is, they are both perfectly con- sistent, and may, with the utmost ease, be carried on very amicably together. The Scripture no where forbids us to make a comfortable provision for our- selves, our families, and our friends : on the contrary, it enjoins it. What it condemns, is only such an in- temperate pursuit of M'orldly things, as is destructive of all Religion, and not such a prudent and moderate regard to them as the calls of nature, of justice, and of humanity, demand. These calls must be pro- perly attended to, these duties must be fulfilled, to render us capable of any others ; and all the Gospel requires is, that they should be made subservient to our everlasting happiness. It is true, that some men must necessarily, from their indigence in private, or their elevation in public life, I)e more involved in cares than the rest of the world. But still we may, in the busiest scenes, find certain breaks and intervals, or if we do not find^ we -ought to viakc them, which eagerly seized, and pro* • Luke xii. 20. 428 SERMON XXXIV. perly applied, will, through the merits of our Redeemer, make our final calling and election sure. Some of the most essential duties of Religion con- sume no time at all. To keep ourselves unspotted from the world, to abstain from intemperance and sen- suality, from falsehood and detraction, to do no injury to our neighbor, to suppress all anger, malice, and re- venge, does not, in any degree, interfere with our usual occupations. We may do a kind action just as easily and expeditiously as we can do a cruel one ; nay, ge- nerally, with infinitely less pain and trouble to our- selves ; and, by a charitable donation judiciously be- stowed, we may make a fellow -creature happy in an instant, without the least interruption to business. By selecting the best and worthiest men for the manage- ment of our concerns, we may give countenance to virtue, and fix a brand upon vice. By renouncing all the secret craft of the world, and all the sinister, though not unusual, methods of accumulating wealth, we may give the strongest proofs of our integrity. By content- ing ourselves with the reasonable emoluments of our professions, and our employments, we may make our moderation known unto all men. By refusing to take advantage of public scarcity and distress, and disdain- ing to raise ourselves on the ruin of our fellow creatures, we may display to the whole world a generous and dis- interested love of our country. We may, in short, by a thousand instances of this kind, " make to ourselves *' friends of the mammon of unrighteousness," and w^hether we eat, or drink, or work, or whatever v^ e do, may do it all in such a manner as to promote the glory, of God, and the salvation of our own souls. Then, as to the positive duties of Religion, and the offices of piety and devotion, we can all of us spare one day in seven, at least, for the performance of them. By this we lose no ground in the race for riches and ho- nors, because most of our competitors lose equally ; and they who spend it in idleness ajid debauchery lose more. We can all of us snatch a little time at mor- ning, and at evening, and at noon-day, for conversing SERMON XXXIV. 42"9 with our Maker and ourselves. We can all of us, in the very midst of our hurry, send up a short prayer, or a silent ejaculation to the throne of grace ; whilst our hands are employed, our hearts may be with God ; whilst our conversation is on earth, our thoughts and affections may be in heaven. No man, in short, can possibly, except by his own fault, be so circum- stanced as to want the time that is indispensably ne- cessary for working out his salvation. In cases of ne- cessity, we must do what we can when we cannot do all we wish. We are sometimes obliged to give up to business part of the time allotted for the refreshment of our bodies ; but still we take care to give them what is absolutely necessary for their support. In the same manner, though we cannot always indulge our- selves in long and regular exercises of piety and devo- tion yet should we never fail to feed and keep alive, at least, our sense of Religion by occasional supplies of spiritual nourishment. Such transient refreshments are often the sweetest, because we come to them with an appetite, and more will be sometimes done in thcni by men of quickness and dispatch, than in whole years languished out by the monastic drone in solitude and indolence. But instead of making use of every opportunity that offers ; instead of conforming to those occasional sea- sons of retirement which the church has thrown in their way, men of business are apt to deceive them- selves with resolutions of retreating some time or other from the ^^ orld in order to give themselves up to God and Religion without interruption. Under this per- suasion, they postpone the settlement of their accounts with Heaven, till the wished-ibr time arrives, when they shall have nothing else to engage their thoughts. This is an error so very common, even to men of the best sense and the best intentions, that it well deserves a moment's consideration, before we dismiss this subject. And yet, it is very surprising, that so many should fall into this snare, when every one may see, from dai- 430 SERMON XXXIV. enevolent man, is to do harm to no one. Then let him go on to do good to as many as he can. And he may do jjood to more persons, and in more cases, than he is perhaps aware of. What numberless opportunities, for in- stance, are there of making others happy in the dail}- commerce of life (especially in its nearest and tendcr- est connections) by an easv, affable, condescending, gentle, encouraging behavior and conversation. We may say and do the most trivial things, in such a manner as to give almost as much pleasure to those with whom we constantly live and converse, as we could do by the most substantial acts of kindness. And let not this be thought unv/orthy the attention of a Christian asr gembly. Scripture itself commands us to he courteous^ ^ * 1 Pet. ill. 8. SERMON XXXV, 437 and the manners of our blessed Lord were not only mild and gentle, but graceful and captivating. This was the natural result of his unbounded benevo- lence, which is indeed the best, the only sure and solid foundation of true urbanity. Without real, undis- sembled good- will to others, either from principle or constitutidii, there can be no such thing as a constant desire to please ; and without such a desire always present to our minds, it is impossible we should please. AV^hoever, therefore, wishes to render himself uni- versally beloved and admired, must not merely seem benevolent ; he must be really so. When once he is, every thing else will generally follow of course, without difficult}^ without eftbrt, with the least occasion for art, disguise, or management*. When all is goodness within, all must be gracious and enga- ging without. Wlien there is a fountain of genuine kindness in the soul, it will naturally and spontaneously diffuse itself to every the minutest part of our behavior. III. They who have had much experience in the world, may be of infinite use to those who have had but little, by giving them wise, and seasonable, and saluta- ry advice ; by rectifying their crude mistaken notions of men and things ; by instructing them in the real value of the blessings and the evils both of this life and the next ; by pointing out to them the road they are to take, the objects they are to pursue ; by guarding them against those hasty friendships, and ruinous connec- tions, which they are but too apt to form ; by teaching them, in fine, to distinguish properly between trivial, showy, superficial accomplishments, and those solid, substantial attainments, both intellectual, moral, and religious, which ought to engage the chief attention of a rational and immortal being. This \vorld is a wide and turbulent ocean, full of rocks and shoals ; and there cannot be a kinder or more useful thing than tQ furnish those who are ready to launch out upon it with a proper chart and compass to direct their course. There are few persons who have not, in some part of • Such as we see recommendsd in the letters cf a late noble Earl to his Sqjsi. 438 SERMON XXXV. •their lives, abundant opportunities of exercising their benevolence and good- nature, in this way, towards the thoughtless and inexperienced. And they must havejittle feeling indeed, who can see a poor gickly wretch running headlong down a precipice, without stretching out a friendly hand to snatch him from de- struction. ^ IV. But if we are afraid of being thought meddling and officious, and of provoking enmity, where friend- ship only was meant, there is another method of in- structing and benefiting others, which cannot possibly give offence; and that is, a good example. A regu- lar, virtuous, religious life, besides all the good it does in other respects, is a constant lesson of morality to all around us. It is a silent, insinuating kind of advice, which steals unobserved into the mind ; and its opera- tions, though imperceptible, are commonly most ef- fectual. Living under the influence of a bright exam- ple is to the soul, what breathing a pure and whole- some air is to the body. We find ourselves mended and improved and invigorated by both, without any sen- sible impression made upon us, without perceiving how the happy change is brought about. When people oiferus advice in form, it seems to argue a kind of su- periority which sometimes piques and offends us. We are apt to set ourselves, out of mere pride, to fence and light against it, and can scarce ever be ingenuous enough to own ourselves in the wrong when any one presumes to tell us that we are so. But we cannot possi- bly be angry at a man for taking care of his own con- duct, for going on in the right road himself, and lea- ving us to follow him or not, as we think fit. When virtue is thus made vissible in human form, its charms are too powerful to be resisted. Instead of applying to the understanding, it makes its way directly to the heart ; and when that is once gained over, all difficulty is at an end. Here then, is a way of doing good, which is equally in the power of the greatest man and the meanest. He has nothing to do but to go quietly on in the path of duty, and he will be followed by multitudes, SERMON XXXV. 439 on wh6m neither argument, nor persuation, would ever have made the shghtest impression. But though every one may thus make his light shine most usefully before men, yet the higher this light is placed, the wider will be its sphere, and the more ex- tensive its influence. They therefore, who^y their birth, their station, their power, their wealth, their pro- fession, their abilities, are set, as it were, upon an emi- nence, and held up to the observation of the world, are more especially bound to take heed to their ways, since the good or the harm they m^iy do by their conduct is inconceivable. It is very well known, that the lower orders of men almost constantly lake the cast and color of their lives from tliose above them. The manners of the people, therefore, are to a great degree in the hands of their superiors, and may be moulded by them into whatever form they please. What a noble oppor- tunity of doing good does this afford to those superi- ors ! An opportunity which to every man of benevo- lence, of public spirit, nay, even of any honest ambi- tion, must be such a temptation to right conduct, as one would think it impossible for him to withstand. What a fair and obvious path to reputation and ap- plause is here marked out to the uj'tper part of the world ! How easy is it for them to merit, and to obtain, aplace amongst the most distinguished friends and bene- factors of mankind, merely by living as they ought ; by being as eminently good, as they are eminently- great. There are it must be confessed, numbers who are really so ; and were those numbers to encrease in the proportion they might and ought, we should soon see the infinite utility of such examples. It is an ex- periment that well deserves to be tried in its utmost ex- tent, and the reward ^vould amply repay the labor. For surely there is no gratification that wealth or power can bestow, equal to the feelings which they must have, who see multitudes of their fellow-creatures growing' every day better and happier under their hands. It can be exceeded only by the unspeakable joy they will experience hereafter, when they perceive themselves 440 SERMON XXXV. surrounded in tlie realms of light by those who have been brought there principally by their means ; whose grateful transports will overwhelm them with delight, and for whose virtues they will be rewarded as well as for their own. V. Another very easy and unexpensive method of being very serviceable to others is, by vindicating the characters of those that have been unjustly defamed and traduced. If the injured persons are strangers to us, it is generous and noble to stand up in their defence. If they are our friends, we are bound by the most sa- cred ties to repel the insults offered to their good name. If they are set in authority over us, it is our duty to rescue them from the obloquy which we know they do not merit. In all these respects we have, it must be owned at present, an ample field for our benevolence to work in. With opportunities of doing good in thisw^y^ we are, indeed, most liberally furnished by the licence and malevolence of the age. For surely it is doing it no injustice to say, that one of its most distinguishing features is an intemperance in calumny, an indiscriminate wantonness of defamation, of which no other country, no other period, even in this country, furnishes any example. It becomes, then, every friend to humanit}'^, or even to common justice, to set him- self with the utmost earnestness against this most un- christian fury of detraction. He can hardly do a greater kindness to individuals, or a more substantial service to the public, than by discouraging and repres- sing to the utmost every groundless slangier, every un- merited reproach, let who will be the object, whether in the highest employments or the most private stations of life. VI. But though in these and many other instances that might be mentioned, we may do most essential service to our fellow- creatures, yet they who have the strongest claim on our benevolence, are undoubtedly the afilicted and distressed. To these, w^hen pecunia- ry relief is all they want, it should certainly be admin- istered in proportion to their necessities, to our circum- SERMON XXXV. 441 stances, and the right they have to expect assistance from us. But it frequently happens, that the kind- ness they stand in need of is of a very different nature. Sometimes they require nothing more than a Httle sup. port and countenance against some petty tyrant, that " dcviscth mischief continually*." Sometimes they have undeservedly lost the affections of their best friend, whom they wish to regain. Sometimes they seek in vain admission to those who can alone effectually as- sist them. Sometimes a load of grief lies heavy on their minds, which calls for some compassionate hand to lighten or remove it, by consolation, by advice, by encouragement, by sympathy and condolence, by every tender care, every soothing expression that humanity can dictate. In all these cases, and a multitude of others that might be mentioned, true benevolence will accommodate itself to the various distresses that fall in its way ; will, with a versatility truly admirable, " be- " come all things to all men," and assume as many different shapes as there are modes of misery in the world. It will compose the differences of friends ; it will arrest the violence of enemies ; it will bring back the ungrateful child to a sense of his duty, the offend- ed parent to the feelings of affection ; "it will visit " the fatherless and widows in their affliction ; it will " rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them " that weep ;" it will protect the helpless and the weak ; will exert its influence, will exhaust its powers in re- dressing their injuries, and vindicating their rights ; it will facilitate their access to the seats of justice ; it will knock for them at the doors of the great ; it will raise them up friends, where they could never have thought of looking for them ; it will be as Aaron was to Moses, " a mouth to themf ;" it u ill speak those wants which they are unable to represent, and plead for tliem with an eloquence which nothing can resist. The man of charity, in short, will not merely content himself with giving; alms ; he will give what people are often more unwilling to give, his attention, his thoughts, his care, * Proverbs vi. 14. t Ex. iv, 16. H h h 442 SERMON XXXV, his friendship, his protection. These are so many in- struments of beneficence that God puts into our hands for the benefit of others. These were intended to sup- ply the place of wealth ; and will, in many cases, re- lieve distresses which wealth cannot reach. To enter into a minute detail of all the various ways in which we may benefit mankind would be endless, and, indeed, in a great measure needless. For who- ever is possessed with a sincere desire to do good, will have no occasion for a monitor to suggest to him when and where he shall exert it. He will be no less quick in discerning, than eager in embracing every opportu- nity of exercising his benevolence. I shall therefore content myself with mentioning in conclusion, only one more way of manifesting our good will to man- kind ; which is in a very high degree important and beneficial ; which lies as much within the reach of the lowest as the highest ; and which yet both high and low are, I fear, but too apt to neglect; I mean, re- commending OUR BRETHREN TO GoD IN PRAVER. Let not the Philosopher smile at this ! It is not to him I speak. He, I know, is infinitely above the mecinness of paying any homage to the great Creator and Governor of the world. He disdains to pray even for his own welfare ; how, then should he ever think of imploring blessings upon «ithers ? How can he be expected to love his neighbor better than himself! He laughs at the idea of a particular providence, Vvhich regulates the minutest movements both of the natural and the moral world, and consequently looks on prayer as the idlest and most useless employment in which a human creature can be engaged. Let us leave him, then, to the enjoyment of that comfortable state of which lie has made choice ; turned adrift (as he must suppose himself) into a wide world, and abandoned to thf caprice of chance and fortune, without protector, guide, or comforter ; without any Almighty Friend to api^ly to for himself, or those he holds most dear, when exposed to dangers, or involved in calamities, ^vhere all hurr.an help is vain. Here, I say, let us leave him ; SERMON XXXV. 44S and let us devoutly thank God that we are not Philoso- phers. Let us diank God that our belief of this most important doctrine of a particular providence is found- ed, not on the cobweb subtleties of human science, but on that solid, immoveable rock, the Gospel of Christ. The Scripture informs us, that he who first created the world, still continues to preserve it ; that he is '' about our path and about our bed, and spieth out all '* our ways* ;" that, without his knowledge not a " sparrow falls to the ground, and that the very hairs *' of our head are all numberedf." To this gracious and Almighty Being we are commanded to pray, and that not only for ourselves but for others also. " Pray '* one for another," says St. James. *' Let supplica- " tion, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be *' made for all men|." *' Seek the peace of the city " where you live, and pray unto the Lord for it|l." What a pleasing, what a spacious field of benevolence is here opened to the Christian, from which the unbe- liever (who yet, of all others, boasts the most of his benevolence) absolutely shuts himself out. We think it a strong mark of our regard, to recommend those we love to some great and powerful friend, who is able to support and advance them in the world. But, -what earthly support or protection is to be compared to his, who has all the powers of nature, and all the events of futurity, at his command, who has the hearts of all men in his hand, and " turneth them whithersoever he ** will§." What a privilege, what iin honor, what an indulgence is it, that we are allowed to commit those we love to his care and guardianship; and that we can do it without raising up a rival in h^s affections ! In the arms of his mercy there is room for all. He can em- brace in them, at once, the whole race of mankind ; and the more we intercede in our prayers for others, the surer are we of his kindness to ourselves. To him we seldom fail to have recourse in our own distress. There are cases in w hich we fly to him by a kind of • Psalm cxxxix. 3. ■{• Mauh. x. 29. c>Q. \ 1 Tim. ti. 1. II Jer. xxix 7. § Prov, xxi. 1. 444 SERMON XXXV. instinctive impulse ; in which without the utmost violence, we cannot restrain ourselves from prayer. If then we have any real good will to our fellow- creatures, we shall implore the same mercies, and with the same earnestness, for them that we do for ourselves. If we have any love for our country, we shall not fail to give it a place in our devotions, and to pray most ardently for the prosperity and stability of our Jerusalem. In what manner our prayers can be granted, or by what means God can avert calamity from those we re- commend to his protection, without doing violence to what is called the ordinary course of nature, it is no concern of ours to enquire. If God has com- manded us to pray for others, it is our business not to philosophize, but to obey. Let us give ourselves no trouble about the course of nature. It is perfectly safe in the hands of its divine Author. There may be no difficulties to Omnipotence, where we see nothing but impossibilities. Let us leave God to manage his own world, aiid perform his promises, as he certainly will, in his own way. All we have to do is, to make a faithful use of that valuable privilege of INTERCESSION, which he has graciously allowed us for the benefit of our fellow-creatures. The most indigent man may say to his neighbor, as St. Peter did to the cripple at the gate of the temple, "silver and *' gold have 1 none ; but such as I have, give I thee*." My v\ ishcb, mv intercessions, my prayers you shall have. On earui. indeed, I can do nothing ; but I will try to move heaven in your favor. This puts it in thf power of the n eanest member of society, if he is but religious and devout, to be as essentially useful, both to individuals aid to the community, as those that fil! tilt highest and n ost active stations of life. From the deepest solitute, and from the humblest cell, his prayers may reach the throne of God ; may there touch oiic of those celestial springs that set the world in motion ; may be among the reasons that in- duce the Almighty to give a new turn to the great Ac;.s iii. 6. SERMON XXXV. 445 wheels of the universe, and to rescue individuals, fami- lies, and empires, from destruction. In)proh;iI)k-, and even ridiculous, as this may seem to the jjrofound rca- soners of this world, the Scriptures, both of the Old and New Testament, are full of the powerful preva- lence and astonishing effects of prayer ; and unless we absolutely renounce all faith in the Gospel, and all con- fidence in the promises of Christ, we must admit the truth of this doctrine ; Ave must acknowledge, that *' the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man," either for himself, or for others, " availeth muclr*." Let then, every sincere Christian, unmoved by the cavils of the sophist, or the insults of the scoriitrr, steadily and resolutely persevere in that most benevo- lent office of INTERCEDING for all mankind. Let him beseech the great Sovereign of the Universe to enlighten the ignorant, to strengthen the weak, to con- firm the doubtful, to convert the infidel, to reclaim the profligate, to soften the unmerciful, to restrain the vio- lent and vindictive, to redress the injured and op- pressed, to protect the innocent ; to reconcile the in- terests and calm the passions of contending individu- als and hostile nations ; to avert from this hitherto favored land those bitter evils with which other coun- tries are now so cruelly desolated and overwhelmed ; to direct the councils and prosper the just designs of those whom Providence has set over us ; to unite the hearts of those they govern, as the heart of one man, in sentiments of Christian charity, and constitutional obedience. Let him implore, in fine, (as he naturally will) the pecular blessing of the Almighty on those he holds most dear; that, as our Liturgy very sublimely expresses it, "through his most mighty protection, " both here and ever, they may be preserved both in " body and soul ; and that he being their ruler and " guide, they may so pass through things temporal as *' finally to lose not the things that are eternal." * James v. 16. riNIS. '^ '^M '. ^. ■^'i.'V^'' Wr ,. •■''