•d'',' & ^ PKINCETON, N. J. \ Presented by Mr Samuel Agnew of Philadelphia, Pa. Agnczv Coll. on Baptism, No, sec S E R M O N S VA R I O ir S S U B J E C T S O C C A S I O N S. SERMONS FURIOUS SUM_ 207 SERMON XIV. ON CONTENTMENT. [Preached at an annual distribution of charity money.] Acts vi. 1 . And in those days rvheyi the nmnber of the disciples was multiplied, there arose a viur- mmnng of the Grecians against the Hebrews, because their widows were neglected in the daily juinisfration .-__-- 221 SER- CONTENTS. XI SERMON XV. ON INDIFFERENCE. rage St. Luke vii. 32. JVe have piped to you, and ye have not danced ; tee have mourned to yoUf and ye have not xvept ----- 239 SERMON XVI. ON THE SERVICE OF GOD. Romans vi. 16. Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey - _ » - 053 SERMON XVII. BEFORE A SACRAMENT. 2 Kings V. J 2. Are not Jbana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them and be clean ?---__-_ 269 SERMON XVIII. ON PENITENTIAL AFFECTION. S^ Luke vii. 42. Tell me which of them will love him most ? - - . _ _ -.cjss ■ SER- XXi CONTENTS. SERMON XIX. ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. Pa-e Sr. Lulce xxiv. 1 1 . Their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not 301 SERMON XX. ON THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES. Fast Sermon, 1807. St. Matthew xvi. 3. (^ }/(■' hypocrites, ye can dis- cern the face of the sky, but can ye not discern the signs of the times - - - - 3 17 SERMON SERMON ON CONFIRMATION Acts xv. 41. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, confirm- ino the Churches. *^i> "When we consider the barrenness of information, relating to the internal con- dition of the Church, in the age of the Apostles; and that almost all our know- ledge is to be gleaned from the scanty re- cords that St. Paul and St. Luke have left us ; that the one wrote principally to record the miracles by which our faith was established, and to enforce the truth of Christianity ; and that the other en- deavoured to reclaim, from the errors of paganism and the prepossessions of the Jews, the churches to which his epistles are addressed ; and more to inculcate fun- B damental 2 On . Conjirniation . damental doctrines than to prescribe ex- ternal rites, or rules of disci [)iine ; we shall have no cause to wonder, that the service and ordinances of the priujitive Church are so little known, and must be traced with such difticulty. By the adventitious lights, however, which these writers, and others of less npte, have thrown on the first pages of ecclesiastical historv, we can plainly discern the vestiges of those rites, in which the great majority of chris- tians have invariably walked ; wliich are not less necessary than ancient, not less valuable for their use, tlian venerable for their antiquity. It is true, that many corruptions crept in during a long night of ignorance; while superstition clouded the face of truth, and made the Church of Christ ap- pear more as the gloomy sepulchre of hu- man happiness, than as an edifice raised to the glory ol' God, and the security and solace of his creatures. But we have long, by Cod's assistance, rent the veil which obscured the sun of righteousness, and thrown off ti)ose oallins: fetters which On Confirmation. S which enslave the mind, and tie it down to the footstool of a weak and falUble mortal. The Established Church of this kingdom owns no rule of life but the Gos- pel ; no mode of discipline, no rites or ceremonies but such as are built on the precepts of Christ, or the practice of his Apostles. And it has been conceded by almost every sect of christians, by what- ever name they have been known, or whatever may have been their prejudices, that whatsoever can be fairly traced to the times of the Apostles, and can be proved to have been their practice or opinion, is to be regarded with reverence, and observed with scrupulous attention. Whoever duly considers the office of these holy men, the authority by which they spake, and the sanctity of their charac ters, will not hastily treat their opinions with neglect, or their practice with le- vity. Their credentials were so clear, their fame so spotless, their faith so sub- lime, and yet so simple, that to reject or question the importance of their precepts, would be little less than an open denial B 2 of 4 On Covifir motion, of the faith, and could proceed from nothino; else but the arrooance of men, the intluence of corrupted humanity. Confirmation, to the use and impor- tance of whicli I wish, at present, to fix your attention, is a rite so plainly derived from the practice of the Apostles, that for several ages it was universally, and is still, by a large proportion of christians, considered as a sacrament; as a necessary means of obtaining the favour of God, and a visible conveyance of the blessings of the Gospel ; and is now held by our- selves as of cliief importance to the cre- dit of the Church, and the spiritual wel- fare of a christian. In the observance of this rite, as practised by tiic Church of England, we discern no useless parade or trifling ceremony, all is plain, significant, and simple. The form is borrowed, or rather continued, from the usage of those, whose practice it should be our study to imitate, and whose mandates are of per- petual obligation. We not only read in the words of the text, that vSt. Paul, after the conversion, and consequent baptism of Oil Conjirmation. 5 ■of many of the inhabitants of Syria and Ciciha, went through those provinces coti~ Jirming the Churches ; but in another chap- ter of the Acts a still earlier, and, per- haps, a stronger instance of the observ- ance of this rite, is recorded of Peter and John, who had been sent as delegates from the apostolical college, for the express purpose of confirming the Samaritans in the faith, and to lay t/ieir hands upon them, after they had received the word of God, and had been admitted as converts to Christianity by baptism ; which, in that age of christia!» purity, was the imme- diate consequence of a profession of faith in our Saviour, and was administered to those who could not have had time or op- portunity to understand the whole doc- trine of Christ, or of hearing every par- ticular relating to their Redeemer. To confess their faith in Christ crucified ; to acknowledge him as their Lord and onlv Saviour; to believe in his death and re- surrection ; seem to have been the only conditions which were required of the disciples on their conversion. / believe B 3 that 6 Oil Confirmation. that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, was the profession of the eunuch, which St. Philip accepted as a sufficient testimony of his faith, and a proper title to the sacrament of baptism. It was, however, expedient, that some farther instructions should be given to those who had sHghtl}^ or par- tially, heard the word of God, and who longed for fuller information. This instruction, accompanied with lavino; on of hands, was attended with the most important and beneficial con- sequences, and conveyed blessings, which as much surpassed the ordinary benefits conferred on man, as they exceeded the power of any mortal. Every sincere christian, therefore, was anxious to par- take of these blessings, and crowded with eager joy to the Apostles to receive im- position of hands, and to avow his faith in the Gospel. In after ages, when the extraordinary operation of the Holy Spirit had ceastxi ; when there was less need of supernatural agency (for infinite wisdom decreed, that miracles should become inore rare in exact proportion to the ne- cessity On Coiifirmation. 7 cessity of einplojing tliem), the vite of imposition cf hands was continued, but confined to the highest order of the Church ; either because none had been ac- customed to use it but the Aposties, or, perhaps, to intimate, that as it was the first and most striking, so it should be re- served as the last and most solemn me- thod of imploring the divine blessing on the heads of the faithful. If we look in- to the earliest dawn of history, we shall not be able to discover any ceremony more ancient than this, nor can any be more significant or natural. It was prac- tised by the patriarchs of old, to express the earnestness of their prayer to God for the safetj^ and welfare of their offspring, as well as the assurance, that tiiey acted by divine authority. In this manner did Moses bless Joshua; and, by the positive command of God, constitute him leader of the Israelites. In this manner did Ja- cob bless Ephraim and Manasseh ; in this manner did our blessed Lord himself heal those that had infirmities, and bless the children that were brought unto him. B 4 Very 8 On Confirmation. Very pro'perly, therefore, did the Apostles institute this solemn ordinance ; and con- sider it as an essential part of the office of Confirmation, which was known, for many centuries, bv a name expressive of this ceremony. I do not insist here on the doctrine of hying on of liands, men- tioned by the Apostle in his epistle to the Plebrews, which text has been often ad- duced to prove the pristine use and au- thority of this rite : but as it may, per- haps, with equal propriety, be applied to the office of ordination, I purposely wave its support, being unwilling to bring for- ward an V passage of Scripture, or other document, which is not perfectly clear and free from all doubt, or shadow of litigation. It is not, however, of equal importance to consider the propriety or efficacy of imposition of hands in past ages, as its use, application, and expediency, as practised in our own. It is accompanied by a form of prayer, short and concise, very comprehensive, and easy to be un- derstojjd : and whoever wishes to be in- formed On Confirmation. 9 formed of the use and necessity of Con- firmation, has only to open his prayer- book and peruse, with candour and se- riousness, the form prescribed by our Church. This is more immediately in- cumbent on those vvho are soon to be admitted to this rite ; who will then per- ceive, that they are about to undertake a charge the most serious in the life of man, and most important in its consequences; — to confirm and ratify the engagement which their godfathers and godmothers promised for them in baptism. The very- nature and name of an engagement, ne- cessarily implies a mutual agreement be- tween two parties ; and, in this case, in- cludes an assurance of reward, and an obligation of obedience. The person, or rather Everlasting Father, as we are allowed to call Him, with whom we enter into a covenant, which is renewed and ratified by Confirmation, is no otlier than our Creator and continual Preserver; Llie most just, the most iujiy, and powerful of Beings; of whose transcendent mercy it iti, that he condescends to enter at aU into 10 Oji Confirmation. into covenant with his creatures ; whose justice is daily respited in our favour; in favour of those who ungratefully reject his bounty, and audaciously brave his cor- rection : whose holiness must be hourly offended by impiety, by the wickedness of creatures, who were raised from nothing by his goodness ; who are continually up- held by his mercy ; and whom he has re- deemed by his blood : whose power is disregarded, and often defied by those who are defended by his fatherly hand ; whose life and preservation are every hour sustained by his care, and inces- santly depend on his will. The ineffable majesty of Him, who deigns to accept the imperfect obedience, and too often negligent homage of sinful men, would be enough, one would think, to inspire us with awe and reverence, when we approach him in any serious act. But these sentiments of seriousness and fear must surely be greatly heightened, when we consider, that in the rite of Con- firmation we undertake an engagement to pursue a line of conduct to which all % have On Confirmation, 11 have found it difficult to adhere ; to which the propensities of our nature are ad- verse ; from which the world, inclination, and appetite, constantly allure us; and which is still necessary to the favour of the Almighty, and our eternal peace. In this solemn ordinance, every one openly, " in the presence of God, and of the " congregation, renews the solemn pro- " mise and vow, that was made in his " name at his baptism ; ratifying and ** confirming the same in his own person, " and acknowledging himself bound to " believe and to do all those things which " his godfathers and godmothers then *' undertook for him." This surely is not of trifling concern; this is not an empty form, an unn>( aniiig ceremonial act of devotion ; but comes home to the breast of each individual. The question is important, comprehensive, and clear; and the answer admits ot no reserve, no ambiguous turn or chance of equivocation. The simple reply, " I do," will not only be the most solemn, but also the most momentous act of your whole lives, 12 On Confirmation. lives. J do renew my baptismal vows; 1 do, in the most ample manner, in tlie presence of God and man, ratify and con- firm them : I do acknowledge myself bound to believe all the articles of the christian faith, and to act according to God's will here, as I hope to attain eter- nal joys, through the merits of my Re- deemer hereafter. These are the con- ditions of salvation ; this is the import of that rite in which you are soon to bear a part, which will either promote your spi- ritual welfare and eternal happiness, or aggravate your guilt, and consequently accelerate your condemnation. With regard 1o the benediction pro- nounced by thx Bishop, on the head of each person, it would be difficult to com- pose any more proper for the service, cer- ,, tainly none more adapted to our wants, or more consonant to the principles of. the Gospel. AW have need of defence and spiritual protection ; all are assailed by temptations, insidious in their nature, destructive to their peace, and peculiar to their situation. Every condition of human On Confirmation. 15 human life has seductions peculiarly its owp, independent of the common allure- ments of sin, by which man is beguiled, and of which few can resist the attrac- tion. The life and circumstances of each individual create a series, a constant suc- cession of trials peculiar to his own case, and which are the more dangerous, as they arc frequently unperceived by him- self, till they have become superior to his strengtli, and have subdued his virtue. To solicit defence, therefore, is requi- site at all times, and never more so than when we profess to take the sword of the Spirit ; when we are left without the guidance of those who promised to in- struct us in infancy, and train our minds to piety and innocence; when we must no lonoer be esteemed as babes in Christ, but as the champions of the cross: when we, in our own persons, declare, that we will continue Christ's faithful soldiers and ser- vants unto our lives end. But to expect to be defended by the heavenly grace of God, while we ourselves are found sin- ners i while our minds are ruffled by the wish. l-i On Confirmation, wish, or polluted by the enjoyment of* vicious pleasure, is as preposterous as it is sinful. The grace of God is not of Such little value as to be conferred, indis- criminatel}^ on the pious and profane ; on those who seek the Lord, and strive after holiness ; and on those also who despise his threatenings, who heedlessly slight the rewards of Heaven, or im- piously reject them. We must not expect to " continue the Lord's for ever," if we at present follow the dictates of corrupt passions, while we suffer ourselves to be seduced by vice, by the example of evil company, by the society and conduct of those who oppose his government, and who, too often, deride his power, and scoff at his name. We must not look forlio;ht from Heaven, while we willingly tread the paths of darkness; we nmst not hope for reward, we cannot but expect punish- ment, if we forsake the guide of our youth, and forget the covenant of our God : we cannot " increase in his holy Spirit more and more," while we wickedly neglect the means of favour, but must necessarily sink On Cojijirmation. 15 sink into grosser iniquity, and be visited by eternal pain : we cannot " come into his everlasting kingdom," if our actions have been uniformly adverse to his glory ; if our thoughts are continually opposite to his purity, and our hearts estranged from his love. There are certain periods in the life of man, when he rests, as it were, from past action ; when he may be said to pause as a traveller at the end of a stage, and is left at liberty to choose the different paths into which the high road of life is divided. There can be no stage more obvious and general, certainly none at which it will be more proper to refresh the mind with religious aliment, and to strike into the paths of righteousness, than that at which the young are invited to stop, and many of you are now arrived. Youth, indeed, is not often the season of thought, al- though opinions then sink deep into the mind, and are seldom relinquished till we have experienced their fallacy. Of the insufficiency of sensual pleasure, we are not often convinced till appetite is palled, and 16 Oil Confirmation. and sometimes the wish exceeds the power of gratification. Conviction may not ar- rive till the mind is too much warped by- vice, to resume again the plain surface of virtue. The first attacks of sin are, there- fore, the easiest to resist, and are weak in proportion to their infancy. When the insidious reptile is admitted early into the human breast, it soon vitiates the moral sense, it expels every finer feeling, and, at length, coils itself so closely round the heart, as to suffer it not to expand, or be touched by any thing good, generous, or laudable. When the soul is familiarised to guilt, it loses the hope with the clue of salvation, and, at the departure of hope, commences the reign of terror, and the want of consolation. Nothing is more pleasing than the language of hope, or natural than to hope what promises fe- licity. The best of us, when we think of our Creator and Judge, are too apt to lose sight of his attributes, in the contem- plation of his works of creation; we for- get his laws, and dwell with pleasure on the proofs of his mercy. Of his justice we On Coiifinnation, 17 we shall hereafter receive the fullest proof; in this world it is not so conspicu- ous as the exercise of clemency ; for of his clemency alone it is, that we are per- mitted to continue upon earth. If the administration of divine justice were rigid, direct, and immediate, we should at once feel the penalties of vice ; the sin- ner would be swept off in the instant perpetration, or sudden consequence of guilt, and would have no leisure to re- peat offence, or even time to sue for pardon. Good reason, therefore, have we to ad- mire and to praise the covenant which infinite love has established ; by which, sealed as it is, by the blood of an imma- culate Saviour, we are allowed to expect reward for a willing, though imperfect, obedience ; and surely our gratitude can never be more warm, piety more pure, or sincerity more expedient, than when we ratify this holy covenant, as ye are now called to do, in the Office of Confirma- tion. By this ordinance, as I trust has been shewn, ye renew in your own per- c sons, is On Confirmation. sons, by your own free will and consent^ and in the most efl'ectual and solemn man- ner, your oaths of fidelity, and the com- pact of your salvation. By tliis ordinance is obviated every obstacle which the ma- lice of infidelity, every cavil which the perverseness of ignorance has alledged against the baptism of infants, since its manner is as plain, and its obligations as binding and important, as the Office of Baptism; since it has been practised in the earliest and purest ages of the Church, and is not less useful in its effects, than holy in its principle. With full persuasion then of its im- portance; with pure and devout senti- ments of gratitude, do ye, my young friends, approach the altar of the Lord^ and with sincerity and godly love ac- knowledge the benefits of your redemp- tion, and avow yourselves the servants of Christ; earnestly endeavouring to con- form your minds and manners to the commands and example of your Saviour and future Judge. Let this period be the happy crisis of your everlasting peace > 6 let On Confirmation, 19 Jet it be unto you the epoch of righteous- ness, the commencement of a life of ho- nesty, faith, and virtue. And when ca- lamity shall befall, or death itself ap- proach you, ye shall think of this season with holy and pleasing recollection, and may continually cherish the hope, that " Almighty God will direct, sanctify, and " govern your hearts and bodies in the " ways of his laws, and in the works of *' his commandments ; and through his " most mighty protection, both here and " ever, ye may be preserved in body and " soul, through our Lord and Saviour " Jesus Christ/' c 2 SERMON SERMON II. ON DIVINE MEDITATION. Psalm Ixxvii. 3. When I am in heaviness^ I will think upon God. X HE beauties so thickly interspersed in the book of Psalms, are frequently over- looked in familiar perusal, and the excel- lence of their advice and doctrine, by long and early acquaintance, is too often passed over with negligence and slight. It is certain, however, that the instruc- tions they contain are above the power of human abilities, and must be accounted as the immediate and o;enuine dictates of God. Many passages in them are so clearly prophetical, and so minutely illus- trative of events, which have been long since accomplished, that we cannot ques- tix)n their authority ; and others afford c 3 such 22 On Divine Meditation, such estimable rules of practice and con- duct, in every relation of life, that \A/ho- ever reads and considers them with atten- tion, cannot restrain his admiration of their authors, nor withhold his confession of their worth. In the Psalm, of which the text is a part, the writer manifests a firm trust in the Almighty protection; and inti- mates, that in every calamity, to which human nature is subject in this world, we should always rely and think upon God, on whom no one ever too implicitly de- pended, or too confidently clung. So va- rious, and often so sudden are the vicissi- tudes of life, that we are never secure from misfortune ; so liable are we to be deceived by false appearances of friend- ship, and by delusive hopes of protec- tion, merely human, that all who have ever tasted the bitter cup of calamity, must have experienced the truth of that assurance of the Psalmist, it is better to trust in the Lord than to put any confidence in man. Before On Divine Meditation. 23 Before the promulgation of the Gospel, when men were bewildered by perplexed axioms of philosophy, and the conceits of their own fancy, there was no steady beacon to look up to, nor any ground of salvation on which they could tread with safety. Even among the Jews, whose re- ligion contained in it the promises and covenant of the highest, there were va- rious disputes concerning points of doc- trine of very material tendency ; of a re- surrection to come, and a future judg- ment. And we are told, that a very con- siderable sect of them, among whom too were some of their most learned teachers, positively denied a resurrection ; taught that there was neither Angel nor Spirit ; considered this life as the ultimate end and only residence of the soul ; and as- serted that it, as well as the body, was annihilated by death, and irremediably sunk to corruption. On those who were influenced by such opinions, the hand of sorrow must have fallen with an heavy weight, bereft of all the comforts which tliis world can afford, what must be the c 4 feelings 24 On Divine Meditation. feelings of him who has no hope in the next ? When man is converted into an enemy, what resource has he, who cannot think upon God as a friend ? And we find, by melancholy experience, that to a large majority of human beings, this lile pre- sents nothing but disease, remorse, and distress. Penury and labour have ever been, and must be, the lot of the mul- titude; and when sorrow intrudes into the doors of him, who has no means of flight or exclusion ; who has no protector on earth, and dares not think npon God; to what can he have recourse to alleviate trouble, and render him again tranquil and composed? To the rich and power- ful, grief, perhaps, is still more pungent; accustomed to gratify g^-ery inclination, to have even their wishes anticipated, and to riot on the good of the land ; when struck by the iron hand of disease or sor- row, they are appalled at the blow, and if not accustomed to think upon God, are the most proper objects of pity. In whatever condition of life distress or mis- fortiuie mjiy befal us, to complain is use- Jess, On Divine Meditation. 25 ]ess, although heaviness is unavoidable; it is to God only that we can cry, with any hope of attention or expectation of relief. Rut before we consider the use and propriety of thinking upon God in the hour of heaviness, it may not be im- proper to take a view of the duty of Divine Meditation in every condition of life, as well in the hours of gaiety and mirth, as in the day of heaviness and de- jection. The lot and circumstances of no man are so stable and prosperous, as to be free from the attacks of accident, and not liable to change; whatever we possess, and whatever we desire, must be con- fessed to proceed from Him, upon whose bounty we can have no claim ; who con- stantly protects us from evils which we can never avert, and seldom foresee, and who often confers benefits on those who are least solicitous of his favour, and least mindful of his love. And it is a fact too deplorable to escape observation, too notorious to be denied, that the tem- poral gifts of Providence, instead of in- citing 56 On Divine Meditatioji, citing the mind to gratitude, have a ten- dency to choke the seeds of piety, render the heart callous to the distresses of its fellow-creatures, and heedless of its God. When the mind is clouded by opulence, seduced by appetite, or over-ruled by passion, to think upon God must neces- sarily be deemed an unpleasing and an irksome task, for divine contemplation will tell the profligate, that they are wan- dering out of the straight path; that their understandings are darkened, and their hearts corrupt. And yet the only method of counteracting the impression, which a crowd of worldly objects is perpetually making upon the senses, is sometimes to banish the thoughts of this world from our hearts, to tJiink upon God, and con- sider the importance of those eternal ob- jects, which cannot fail to be of conse- quence to a soul framed for immor- tality; and which, however we may now drive them off by vanity and dissipation, will certainly recur at a time when they will be least welcome; when we sliall be least prepared to consider them; when they On Divine Meditation, 27 they will too probably distract our thoughts and embitter recollection : for he who neglects to think upon God in the days of health and vigour, can never hope for his favour and assistance in the hour of distress and calamity. On the opinions and habits of thinking, which we indulge, and which influence our con- duct in this life, depend, more than most men seem to be aware of, their eternal condition in the next ; Whatsoever a man sowetJi, that shall he also reap. No one be- lieves if he sows thistles, he shall reap corn : of thorns men do not gather Jigs, nor of a bramble bush gather they grapes : and the laws of God are as sure and immuta- ble as those of nature. He whose life is vicious, cannot expect the rewards of vir- tue : to speak of God with irreverence, or not to think of him with thankfulness, is manifest impiety, and will surely entail upon us great and deserved punishment : not to acknowledge his goodness is highly criminal ; and a fixed habit of thinking upon God is absolutely necessary to our future happiness. No one can pretend to 28 On Divine Meditation, to learning and information without ap- plication and study ; no one can expect to arrive at knowledge without the means of attaining it: if we hope to reach the heights of science, we must begin with its very rudiments, and pursue it with as- siduity and perseverance: in like manner, if we hope to attain the joys of Heaven, we must begin in this life to think upon God, and accustom ourselves early and often to seek his favour, implore his as- sistance, and celebrate his praise. And when temptation assaults us, when appe- tite solicits to impurity, and passion in- cites us to guilt, let us for a moment think upon God, and we shall quickly find, that passion will abate, and temptation flee before us. Let it not be thought, that Divine Meditation will repress pleasure, or at all induce melancholy or dejection : cheerfulness and serenity are its genuine offspring; the spirits of the pious are en- livened by devotion ; the heart expands, and is capable of as much, or more real piety, in the hours of delight, and amidst the On Divine Meditation. 29 tlie beauties of nature, as in the cell of a recluse, or the convent's denser gloom. When in heaviness, to think upon God, is not only highly rational and consohng, but most natural to a soul formed for im- mortality. When friends forsake, and the world looks blank around us, what can afford such real satisfaction, as the rays of celestial comfort; which no cloud of adversity can darken, nor any change of fortune contract. While the mind is oppressed by sorrow, it is always more prone to dwell on evils that are past, than to fix its attention on blessings which God may furnish hereafter : but to regret con- tinually the loss of what can never be re- gained, unceasingly to lament those who are for ever snatched from us by death, or to suffer our spirits to sink under the pres- sure of sudden or unexpected ill fortune, argues a mind destitute of those helps and advantages which God has promised and supplies, which are in the hands of every disciple of our Lord, which religion only can give, and of which guilt alone can deprive us. Amidst the troubles and vicissi- 30 Oti Divine Meditation, vicissitudes of life, it is not possible to keep the mind in constant tranquillity; it must be jarred by the crush of disease, the loss of friends, or the declension of fortune: but to all these calamities the Gospel affords a sure and speedy relief; at no season of life, in no condition of hu- manity, does religion withhold its support; heaviness may endure for a night, hut, to a sincere disciple of Christ, joi/ cometh in the morning: and it is as much our duty as it must be our inclination, to dispel those mists which are produced by worldly dis- tress ; which hang about the soul, and eclipse the prospect of immortality. Ha- bitual heaviness is a disposition which does not affect our happiness more than our virtue ; it is an affection which it is fruitless to yield to, and criminal to gra- tify ; wherefore should a living man com" plain ? If we be poor, we see that it is the let of thousands, and our poverty cannot deprive us of the favour of our Maker, render us less dear to our friends, or less protected by Providence. Though the world may treat us with disregard, the proud On Divine Meditation* 31 proud with scorn, and the vain with in- sulting levity ; yet if we believe in his name and word, we may always think upon God with cheerfulness, assured of his help and consolation. If your spirits are de- pressed by the recent loss of a beloved friend or relative, if you tlunk upon God, you must be sure that he ordereth all for the best, that you shall see them again, and your joy no man taketh from you. Heaviness is not unfrequently produced by illness and infirmity; but even in this case, which is often pleaded as an excuse for the lan- guage of complaint, and a life of inaction, to think upon God is the surest, the only remedy to cheer our souls, and drive off languor and dejection. Multiplied and solid are the pleasures which may be ex- perienced, far fro;n the shout of merri- ment or the tumult of diversion: and however vain would be the thought, to expect amusement amidst the gloom of sickness, or the hours of infirmity, yet from the sick, heaviness may be chaced, to the dying, comfort may be adminis- tered. Reflections on the goodness of God, 32 On Divine Meditation. God, and a future immortality, afford subjects of delight as pure as they are in- exhaustible; and although the prospect of death has often silenced the wit, per- plexed the sceptic, and subdued the hero, yet for the innocent and humble there will always be found comfort and pleasure in thinking upon God, in the contempla- tion of his works, and assurance of his mercy. Thus, a habit of thinking upon God will, in every station of life, in every con- tingency of fortune, produce comfort and happiness, and promote most power- fully the effects of quietness and assurance for ever. If, then, this truth be so unde- niable and certain; if the consequences of thinking upon God tend so plainly and directly to ensure the tranquillity of the individual, and the good of society; why, it may be asked, is it so seldom resorted to, to heel those troubles with which all are necessarily, in some part of their lives, afflicted; which all agree in la- menting, and from which not one is ex- empt* Is it that any of us can suppose, that On Divine Meditation, 33 that when we are in heaviness God can want the power or the will to console us ; or that our condition and welfare are in- different to him; that he has ceased to direct the affairs of this world; that he has forgotten to he gracious, and watches not over the children of men? An unwil- lingness to think upon God, perhaps, proceeds oftener from a fear of his jus- tice, than a disbelief of his power to save us; it is an assurance, that we have more reason to expect mental uneasiness, than to hope for consolation; it is the con- sciousness, that we have been seldom em- ployed in confessing his benefits, and thankino' him for mercies which have been always unmerited, and often unask- ed ; it is the certainty of having deserved punishment, that makes us backward in confiding in his favour, and soliciting his aid. When life has been passed in dissi- pation, riot, and intemperance ; w^hen the mind has been corrupted by vice, by every depraved affection, by the influ- ence of passions to -which every inhabi- tant, and every votary of Heaven must D be 34} Oji Diviiie Meditation. be a stranger ; when the heart is puffed up by long uninterrupted prosperity, steeled by the wish or gratification of vin- dictive hatred, and void of that purity and holiness, without which no man shall see the> Lord; when the soul is thus polluted, it must indeed be brought to think upon God with reluctance and alarm. How can he hope for mercy from his Creator, who has denied it to his fellow-men? How can he look up to Heaven for relief and pardon, by whom relief to his poorer brethren has never been administered, by whom intreaty has been contemptuously rejected, and pardon withheld ? Pitiable indeed is the condition of him who holds another in detestation, and knows not how to forgive : for the time will as- suredly come, when himself will plead most earnestly for forgiveness, to a Being whose laws he has repeatedly and grossly violated, whose promises and covenant he has refused to accept, and w^hose power he has defied. And it is a melancholy truth, that few, if any, are fixe from guilt, which (if the laws were rigorously adminis- On Divine Meditation. 35 adfiihiistered, by which we must acknow- ledge our conduct should be regulated, and by which we must be tried) could not fail to draw down upon us punishment, as durable as it is exemplary, as dreadful' as it is just. It is certain that there is no one, however temperate his practice, how- ever bright his fame, whose life can claim the reward of Heaven; who has not, in some part of his life, either by word, by thought, or by deed, proved an ingrate to his Redeemer, a rebel to his God. Are we then for ever cut off from salva- tion ? Is there no halm in Gilead ? Is there no Phi/sician there ? Yes ! we have the sovereign balm of the Gospel ; an uner- ring Phj'sician irl Christ : a Saviour, who knows all our wants, our distresses, and our crimes ; who has promised consola- tion to the bumble, peace to the afflicted, and pai'don to the sinner ; who invites us to sue to him for protection without fear or distrust: Come unto me, saith he, all i/e that labour and are heavy laden, and I u;ill give you rest ; take my yoke upbn you and learn of me, and ye shall find rest unto your D 2 souls; S6 On Divine Meditation. souls ; for ?ni/ yoke is easy^ and my burden is light. In Him we have a comforter, on whose promises no one can ever too surely rely; who extends pardon to the guilty penitent, to the meek and lowly consola- tion and peace. Do not then reject his proffered kindness ; do not forsake your Redeemer, He will never abandon you. Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God by stubbornly refusing his mercy, and im- piously defying his law ; but walk ye in the right pafh; adhere to those rules of salvation ; lay up those treasures of com- fort and immortal happiness which have been purchased for you, and are commu- nicated by your Saviour^ and when you are in heaviness you may, with confi- dence, think upon God ; when you are vexed you may aptly complain. SERMON SERMON III. ON PETER S DENIAL OF CHRIST. St. Matthew xxvi. 72. / do not know the man. Little knowledge of Scripture is ne- cessary to remind us of the occasion on which these words were uttered : the cir- cumstances which gave rise to them ex- hibit a melancholy instance of human in- firmity, when a disciple, who had ap- proved himself most zealous in the ser- vice of his master, seemingly most at- tached to his person, and most obedient to his commands ; in the critical hour of his trial and examination, utterly denied all intimacy and acquaintance with him. It is, indeed, lamentable to reflect, that he, who had all {vlong continued a zealous D 3 follower 38 On Peter's Denial of Christ, follower of Christ; who had withstood the calls of interest, the effects of early prejudice, and the censure of his coun- trymen ; should, at the time when his Lord had apparently most need of the as- sistance of his friends, cast off all con- nection with him, and pretending indig- nation that he should be suspected as an accomplice and friend of a malefactor, should repeatedly declare, I do not know the man. The behaviour of St. Peter may serve to exemplify the difference, which has often been found to exist, between aenu. ine fortitude and mere personal braver3\ At the time of the apprehension of our Lord, when they came out with swords and staves to take him, Peter was the first to §tand up in his defence, and eagerly de- sirous of displaying his zeal and attach- ment ; he did not hesitate, although he knew he was the only one armed among the Disciples, to draw his sword, and smite a servant of the High Priest, and cut off hi^ ear. He was willing to fight and ex- pose his person and his life for the pro- tection On Peters Denial of Christ. 39 lection of his master, but he could not resist the reproach of being considered as the friend of one, who was then in the character of a dehnquent; whom he saw treated by the magistrate as a criminal, and b}' the people with scorn. His va- lour, which would have been sufficient to have carried him through every personal danger, as appears by his readiness to contend with those who were sent to ap- prehend our Saviour, was not proof against the contempt and ridicule of the world ; and in the very room in which the examination of Jesus was conducted, which nothing but his affection could have induced him to enter, he solemnly, and with an oath declared, I do not k7iozi the 7nan. There can be none, who have ever heard or read of Peter's denial of Christ, but must lament his weakness, and con- sider it as a crime : and there may be some Avho may think, that if placed in similar circumstances, they would have suffered the danger and penalties of being ;i follower of Jesus, and would havp P -i gladly 40 On Peters Denial of Christ, gladly seized the opportunity of ap- proving their faith : but if we rightly con- sider the practice of Christians in ge- neral, we shall, I fear, have little reason to condemn the behaviour of St. Peter, as singularly flagrant or unnaturally ab- surd : there was, indeed, much more ex- cuse for him, than there could be for any professor of Christianity in the present day: he had, indeed been present when most of Christ's miracles had been per- formed; he had, it maybe said, felt in his own person, the miraculous power of our Saviour, when he was enabled to counteract the force of the elements, and to walk upon the sea ; but when had he seen the great chain of prophecies com- pleted, which has now been the case for many centuries ? when had he been in- structed by 07ie zc'ho had risen from the dead, and been taught, that reliance on a crucified Saviour, which is the only sure guide of our feet and lantern to our paths? The person on whom his whole confidence was placed, was, at that very time, taking his ^ria] fov sedition, and was about to suffev On Peter's Denial of Christ. 41 suffer an ignominious death; bereft of those hopes, and that assurance which had supported him through three years of wandering penury, he gave way to v/eak- ness, temptation, and fear; and where is the man who can confidently assert, thjit his own faith and virtue would have sup- ported him under similar circumstances ? Where are we now to look for him, who has uniformly and steadily withstood the allurements of pleasure, the solicitations of interest, and the fear of scorn ? The conduct of the generality of professed Christians, gives us little room to hope, that, were they assailed by such strong temptation as was St. Peter, they would have replied with greater iirmness, or acted with more fidelity and zeal. It is not possible for any of us to be placed in precisely the same predicament as the Apostle, but we have all of us good grounds continually and earnestly to pray, that God would deliver xis from temptalion. We may not have the guards of a tem- poral governor to appease, nor the threats of legal punishment to avert ; ive have Jaw, 42 On Peter's Denial of Chrht. law; government, and reason, all on the side oi' our faith and virtue: but these, it is too often proved, are but ^veak sup- ports against the tem[)tations of avarice, the dread of ridicule, and the pressure of distress. No man can reasonably plead, that there do not happen frequent opportu- nities of evincing his fidelity to his Sa- viour, either actively or passively, at least hy the restraint of appetite, if not by po- sitive acts of faith. No one is so situated in this world, as not to be able to prove the sincerity of his religious attachment; and if not zealously impressed with Jove and gratitude to his Redeemer, may, of- tener than we may now suppose, incur the guilt of the crime which becajne a stumbling-block to St. Peter; I do not mean a professed disbelief of our Saviour, but a tacit refusal of obedience, and the little respect we pay to his commands. Although he has solemnly declared, he that denieth me before ?}ieii, him ziill I also deny before my Father; we sliidl, I feaj', Lave little difficulty in discovering, that there On Peter's Denial of Christ, 4:5 tiiere are few of us who are free from the guijt of wilfully rejecting the influence <3f Ills Gc-'^el, and of virtually denying his Hame. In return for the great blessings derived to us from the rehgion which Christ has established, it is expected that we should be grateful, and at all 'iines confess his power, and reverence his lav/s. In the early ages of Christianity, the profession of the Gospel was attended with great distress and danger, and was often fol- lowed by a violent and cruel death. We read of many, who not only gave up their whole property and goods of this world for his names sake and the Gospel, but joyfully confessed the name and re- ligion of Jesus under the most agonizing tortures, even when their sufferings might have been escaped by a seemingly trivial compliance with the rites of Paganism. Would they but bow the knee to Jupiter, and throw incense on the altars of the Heathen Deities, they might have lived iu security and peace, free from violence, distress, and persecution. But the primi- tive 44^ On Peters Deukd of Christ. tive Disciples of our Lord and his Apos- tles, had not so learned Christ ; they were too well instructed in the principles of their faith, had too great reverence for their holy Redeemer, to deny, that through his mediation only they hoped for peace and consolation beyond the grave. Firmly convinced of the truth of their religion, no porsuasion could entice, ' no menace or torture could intimidate them, from professing their assurance in the merits of their Saviour, their sure trust in the promises of their God. They were well aware, that he required from them, not merely an inward belief in his Divinity, but an avowed and public con- fession, that He is the Lord, the Holy One, the Creator of Israel, their Kins'. When Christianity became the esta- blished religion of the empire, its pro- fessors were, of course, seciu'e from per- secution, and were protected by the laws; but it is a melancholy truth, that as the profession of C'liristianity advanced, faith and piety declined ; and we need not look far to perceive, that among those that On Peters Denial of Clirht. A5 that profess themselves Christians, there are few v/ho are ready, on account of their religion, to encounter distress or in- convenience, and fewer still who would think themselves happy, when 'persecuted for righteousness sake. A sincere profession of Christianity does not merely imply a v/illingness to enter into a Christian com- munity, but a readiness to undergo, for its sake, if necessary, reproach and in- jury, and death itself. But how few do we see, who are willing to sacrifice the smallest part of their pleasure or repose to the honour of their Saviour ; how often are we obliged to witness lukewarmness and indifference among those, who pre- tend to be his disciples, and see them join in the impious laugh of the profli- gate, and the jests of the profane ? How many are there, whose lives, perhaps, are morally good and virtuous, who yet know- little of that love of God, which Christ has declared to be the first and great com- mandment, which every sincere Christian will ardently cherish, and must most pow- erfully feel ? How many are there, who yet 46 On Teiefs Denial of dhht yet believe in a future state (and who is there, who thinks at all, that can reject it?) wiiose hearts are httle iniiaenced by the promises of their Savioui', wlio disre- gard hh> mediant! on, and indilferently va- lue his lave ? They would attain the joys of immortality by any means but those prescribed by Christ; they would enter into tiie Kingdom of Heaven they care not how ; they would be saved, it matters not by whom; absorbed i« the commerce and avocations of thi,: world, they pay no attention to that state which is to be eternal. Though^ they are tokl in the Gospel, through which (if they admit the most simple tenets of Christianity) they must admit their salvation cometh, that they are bought with a price, they prize not the benefit; they disregard or discre- dit their Saviour; they dehght and m- dulge in those sins which are obnoxious to his purity ; and, for the atonement of whicli, he voluntarily suffered and died. A steady and uniform profession, that we are indeed the servants of Christ, is . more particularly incumbent on us in 2 these On Peter s Venial of Christ, 47 these days, as it is no longer infamous ta reject revelation, deride its doctrines, and treat it as al)surd and fabulous. Till within these very few years, a professed atheist was considered as little better than a madman ; as one who strove to conceal crimes under the panoply of cliaotic darkness ; avIio wished religion to be false, because he knew he must suffer eternally if it were true; whose reason had been warped by a continued blaze of impiety, and who, as he was the avowed foe of his Maker, could never be regarded as the friend of man. But within our own me- mories, the lofiomkss int has sent forth a pestilential vapour, which, as the smoke of a great' fnniace, has overspread many of the nations qf the earth, and deeply tinged the manners and sentiments of every country, wherever the breath of impiety has driven it. We ourselves have seen infidelity rear its head with boldness, and in a nation which boasts of superior refinement, triumph for some time over every thing divine and sacred ; and if she be now again rejected by the law of every regular 4^ On Vetera Denial of Christ: regular government, it cannot, I fear, be said, that her influence has decreased. Her votaries, though perhaps less bold, may not be less numerous or less active. It is certain, that an appearance of piety is now often scandalized as hypocrisy, and that there are many who would blush to be thought uniformly religious, or piously inclined. The prevailing and characteris- tic vices of every age, must necessarily change with its manners, and with the condition of the people. In the time of our Saviour, a religious deportment was the common, and, perhaps, the only means of acquiring respect and au- thority : his reproach^is, of course, fell on those chiefly who aftected more religion than they felt. In later times, when wealth, power, and consequence, are to be attained by methods in which i^ligion has little share, we do not see men so for- ward in pretending to that which can pro- cure them no temporal rccompence, and may, by the world, be treated wit!) de- rision and contempt. So On Peters Denial of Christ. 49 So far from affecting superior sanctit}^ many do not hesitate to throw off all re- gard for usages which their forefathers beheld with reverence, and which have been ever entitled to respect and venera- tion. That decent humility in the en- quiry after divine truth; that becoming reverence which was formerly observed in. the research and examination of things, which must always remain above mortal sense and comprehension, is now ex- changed for pert interrogation, or petu- lant denial and abuse. It is no longer shameful to stand in the way of sinners, or to sit in the seat of the scornful: to insult or deride religion, is often deemed, among the unthinking, and this I fear will in- clude a large proportion of mankind, a mark of genius, and of a mind that would soar above those fanciful and need- less scruples, as some affect to call them^ which have been known to stop heroes in the career of victory, and which, God be praised, are still held by the majority in awe, E It 50 On Peters Venial of Christ. It is undoubtedly the duty of every inan, carefully to guard against those sins which are most prevalent, and into which he is most likely to fall : and since irre- ligion is so common, since many in this age of levity disregard alike the promises of the Gospel and its menaces ; since some have so far abandoned the doctrine and fellowship of Christ as to mock at his ordinances, and openly declare, I do not know the man : it is more immediately in- cumbent on his followers to hold fast the profession of their faith without wavering ; and if we should unfortunately meet with those who deny or dispute any of those truths which Christ has established, and profanely jest at any of tli« doctrines of his Gospel, let us not follow a multitude to do evil, but assert, with honest zeal, the honour of our Saviour^ and cheer our- :5elves with the reflection, that he that con- fesseth Christ before men, him will He also confess before His Father^ which is in Heaven. SERMON SERMON IV. ON THE DEATH OF THE SOUL. St. Matthew viii. 22. Bat Jesus said unto him, Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead. Among the numerous precepts, Speeches, and observations, recorded in the New Testament, it is remarkable, and did we not know they proceeded from the Father 6f lights, it would be surprising, that they are all so plainly intelligible to the most simple understanding, and the most uncultivated mind. Though many bf them are cast in the richest mould of imagery ; though they almost all indulge in the metaphors, and allude to the man- ners of the East, none of them are in- volved in perplexity^ nothing more is !vanting to comprehend their use or in- E 2 tention, 53 On the Death of the SouL tention, than an unprejudiced apprehen- sion and an honest lieart. 'J'heir language is concise, their sentiments luminous, and their meaning plain. This is more espe- cially observable in the speeches of our Saviour: whoever attends and adheres to his directions, will never be without a guide to direct him through every diffi- culty or danger, or contingency of hu- man life ; and will pass with comfort and tranquillity from the cradle to the grave. His precepts are alike plain and peremp- tory ; are never to be infringed or com- promised in any accident or temptation ; nor are they liable to be mistaken by any but those who pietend ignorance to avoid obedience, and misconception to conceal a crime. Yet there have been, and ever will be, some, who affect to misunderstand the language of Scripture ; and are never more happy than when they are employed in discovering in it any seeming dis- crcpaiicy ; they eagerly seize the most flimsy thread of contradiction, which tlioy can assume us a clue to error, or spin into On the Dealh of the Soul 53 into a veil to obscure the light of the Gos^- pel, and ciTibarrass its disciples v\'ith dark- ness and doubt. These cavils are some- times so absurd, as more properly to ex- cite ridicule than alarm in the breasts of the religious, did not reverence for the word of God, and compassion for the souls of these thoughtless infidels, forbid us to be amused with any thing which intrenches on the dignity of our Creator, or tends to drag down the guilty soul into deserved punishment and endless pain. However paradoxical the words ot the text may appear, at the first glance, yet the slightest examination will convince us, that they contain matter which is at once simple and important. Let the dead Oiiri/ their dead. No one can be so stupid as to suppose, and few will be so perverse as to affirm, that these words are to be taken in a literal sense. The dead here, as in many other places in Holy Writ, must be under- stood to mean those \vho are dead in tres- passes and sins, who are alienated from the life of God, and whose minds are as cor- E 3 ]upt 54 On the Death of the Souh nipt as their bodies will become after the separation of the soul, which will then return unto, and be judged by, God who save it. That this is the true and plain meaning of the words of the text will appear, not only from a comparison of them with other passages of Scripture, but from a consideration of the scene and circum- stances in which our Saviour gave this charge to the disciple. The occurrence which gave rise to our Lord's expression was briefly this : Our Saviour had been preaching on the banks of the lake of Gennezareth, and had attracted vast multitudes to hear him, by the clearness of his arguments, as wefl as the importance of the subject of v.hich he spake. To avoid the crowd, and pur- sue his journey without impediment, he determined to pass over to the other side; but having previously observed a young man of good disposition, and who had been particularly attentive to his instruc- tions, he invited him to become his fol- lower, and to embark in the propagation of On the Death of the Soul. 56 of his Gospel, which would, perhaps, en- tail oil him much danger and difScuitv, and necessarily occasion him absence from his home. But this disciple, though seemingly anxious for the promotion of religion, and the salvation of the souls of men, was unwilling to sacrifice his tem- poral prospects, and leave his family and his father, who, Ave have no reason to suppose, was already dead, and who would, probably, have been enraged at his desertion, and considered his deter- mination to follow Christ as a wild ad- venture, which would procure him neither honour nor advancement, and which would probably end in the derangement of his temporal affairs, and consequently was below the ambition of the worldly, and unworthy of the wise. But the zris- dom of this uorld is fooUshue^ with God, Could this disciple have insured this world's good, he meant in earnest to have applied to the concerns of the next. Suf- fci' me, said he, to go and bury my father; let me wait till his death shall have se- cured to me all I want as to temporal pos- E 4 session ; 56 On the Death of the SouL session ; let me arrange my affairs in such a manner, as to prevent their loss or di- minution, and I shall then be at leisure to attend to thee, to follow thy person^ to listen to thy precepts, and, by thy me- diation, enter at last into eternal bliss. But Jesus said, follow me, and let the dead bury their dead : let those who are careless of the honour of God, and are indiffer- ent to the success of his religion ; let them pursue such things as occupy their minds, harden their hearts, and render them unfit for the Kingdom of Heaven. But do thou, who hast already made some progress in the road to virtue, who hast begun to follow my footsteps, and felt desire to attain those joys that will never fade ; do thou pursue, with unde- viating constancy, the path thou hast al- ready entered, no man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God : leave for others the brit- tle toys of wealth, the delights of the lux- urious, and the grandeur of the proud ; suffer not these phantoms of happiness to obscure the rays of the sun of righteous- ness ; On the Death of the Soul, 57 pess; leave thy father, thy home, t'.iy friends, and thy worldly inheritance, and follow me ; follow me, if my cause is worth defending, if my promises are sure, if my rewards are precious, and if you rely on my word ; Follow luc, and kt the dead bury their dead. We are not informed wh.at effect the words of our Saviour had on the disciple, but as the Evangelist has taken no farther notice of him, we may reasonably con- clude, that he returned to his father's house, and could not so far divest himself of prejudice, and a love of temporal ease, as to follow our divine rvlaster. althouoh his former conversation and behaviour in- dicated a belief in our Saviour, and hope of acceptance through his name. He chose to finish life as he had begun it; to pass his days in waiting for his paternal inheritance; in the acquisition of wealth, in a constant vicissitude of worldly amuse- ment and care; in longing for, and at length, perhaps, attaining an inheritance that fast fadeth away ; in the acquii-emcnt o^ opulence that brgcts envy, creates fear. 58 On the Death of the Soul. fear, and perpetual solicitude; in the pursuit of amusements which can only interest the worldly, and gratify the vain ; in cares that perplex, and designs that vitiate the mind; that choke the growth of knowledge, and throw obstacles in the road to the kingdom of God. These were his inducements to forsake Christ. And if we take into our consideration the inchnations and propensities of the great majority of the world in the present day, Ave shall have little reason to charge him •with eccentricity, and be convinced, that he is not the only one, by innumerable multitudes, of whom ft may be justly said, that he is dead white he liveth. It would be equally tedious and need- less to dwell here on the vanity of the or- dinary pursuits of mankirjd, and the uni- versal necessity of a death' unto sin, and a new birth unto righteoLisness. I shall, therefore, in the remainder of this dis- course, point out a few df the leading evidences of sin, by whi ch every one may convince himself, wliether he can rationally hope for eternal life, or whe- ther On the Death of the Soul. SQ tber he shall remain in the congregation of the dead. The principal criterions and proofs of sin or righteousness, must be collected from the conversations of men, their opinions, and their lives. By conversa- tion, in the common acceptation of the word, is meant their language, their ha- bitual discourse, their accustomed and most agreeable style and manner of ex- pression. It is as much by this as by any other test, that we can judge of the in- ward temper and disposition of all men : Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. Seldom can any one long con- ceal, or constantly feign, sentiments fo- reign to the disposition of his mind. Education, intercourse with good com- pany, and a respect for the persons who compose it, may often and generally pre- vent coarse and improper language ; but this reverence will never be perpetual, and must be always evidently forced. If the mind is fraught with error, arrogance, or impiety, it will naturally, at some time or other, discharge itself, as it will con- stantly 60 Ofi the Death of the Soul stantly Jong to be at ease. By his com- panions, therefore, every man's prevail- ing inehnation must be soon known, and justly appreciated. It does, indeed, some- times happen, that men affect less regard for religion than they feel ; and in order, as they vainly think, to shew their wit; their superiority to fear and prejudice; their contempt of every thing that can tend at all to fetter, as they term it, their understanding or their will ; they pretend more aqdacity than they possess ; feign a disbelief of ordinances they clan- destinely reverence; and deny revelations to which they secretly cling. I know not a greater sin, a surer test of having the understanding darkened, of being alienated from the life of God, and of blindness of heart, than thus to lend oneself to the cause of infidelity ; and, for the sake of being thought above the fear of eternal punishment, to incur the guilt of other mens sins, forfeit the hopes of immortal happiness, scoff at our Kedeemer, and, as the Apostle to the Hebrews strongly expresses it, put him to an open ahame. It is On the Death of the Soul. 61 is certain, that nothing tends so much to wear off religious sentiments, as the con- stant attrition of lax and faithless conver- sation : the flame of infidelity is kept alive and nourished by incessant sparks of impious revelry, profane ridicule, and af- fected scorn. What must be the hope and last feelings of him, who has thus perverted the gift of speech, and the in- tellect his Creator bestowed upon him, may be easily conjectured : on the bed of death he will remember, in bitter dis- traction, the language in which he wick- edly gloried ; he will anxiously, but how impotently, catch at the once rejected offers of redemption ? He will vainly strive to regain assistances he has for ever lost ; he will seize every broken reed, that had ever the possibility of saving him, as an exhausted swimmer clings to the ves- sel that is sinking, in the mad expecta- tion it will bear him above the surge. Yet it is by conversation chiefly, that we can judge of the opinions of mankind; and, by our own opinions can w^e esti- mate, most fairly, our hopes of salvation, and 62 On tJie Death of the Soul and the real state of our souls. Some affirm, that they Cannot think as they hkcj that thoughts an'sfe ^v•hich they know to be vicious, and sentiments obtrude them- selves which they have often found to be wrong. This is not moi'e owing to the proneness of the human mind to vice, the necessary consequence of a corrupt na- ture, than to an indulgence of evil habits, to a criminal reluctance to receive con- viction, to stubbornness, and foolish pride. If our th-nights be evil, our con- sciences cannot be clear • and we might; with equal propriety, expect an unsullied stream to flow from a miry pool, the sink of filth and corruption, as that sentiments of purity should arise in the breast of the profligate, or pious affections be expressed from his tOnsiueo The due regulation of our thoughts is as important to our pre- iicnt comfort as our future salvation t in every condition of human life, they cori- tribute to our happiness not less than our virtue ; they are the harbingers and pa- rents of every sin we commit, of every good work we perform, and of eyavy evil we On the Death of the Soul 65 we look for. If they be corrupt, we may be sure they are the fruits of the Spirit that worketh in the children of disobedience; that if indulged, they infallibly produce sin, and death by sin ; that they proceed from a depraved heart, or, perhaps, are the suggestions of that evil spirit, who is con- tinually on the watch to take away the rmrd out of our hearts, lest we should be saved : they are the sure prognostics of the death of the soul, for to be carnally minded is death. But if the thoughts of our hearts be pure ; if they incline to and produce gratitude, humility, and devotion to God; and charity, candour, and good-will to man ; we may be equally certain, that they are the fruits of righteousness, and that they will have a happy influence on the temper, the disposition, and the con- duct of our lives. Forj by our lives at last it is, that we tiiust let our light shine before men, and glo^ rify our Father, who is in Heaven. Divine wisdom has pointed out the clearest evi- dence of virtue ; ye shall know them by their fruits. The life of (^yery man forms '3 the 64 On the Death of the Soul the truest mirror of the state of his heartl- and the condition of his soul : utterly im- possible is it for him, whose hopes are fixed on a life to come, to pursue, or be pleased with, the vicious indulgences which the world calls pleasure, which a depraved appetite covets as the summit of human happiness, but which are con- stantly rejected by those who strive to be virtuous, and which are, in reality, de- tested by the good. It is certain, that when the mind is framed to goodness, when we are in the habit of adding to our faith, virtue; the pleasures of sense ap- pear dull and insipid, a life of luxury be- comes tedious, and sensuality disgusting. Those who reckon themselves to he dead in- deed unto sin, hut alive unto God through Jesus Christ, have wishes, joys, and com- forts, to which the worldly and sensual must be for ever strangers ; which they, at all times, affect to call weak, and some- times extravagant and wild. But a con- vincing proof of the weight and reality of religious enjoyment, is found in its effi- cacy in lightening the pangs of diissolii- tious 0)1 the Death of the Soul. 65 lion, and in alleviating distress. All fly to the Gospel for relief, when they can procure it no where else. And though their lives may have been passed in early ])rof]igacy, in confirmed and habitual wickedness, and in old and protracted de- bauchery; yet they still expect to find comfort in religion, as soon as they choose and can condescend to turn to it ; and presumptuously hope for mercy in a Sa- viour they have continually derided, and in a God, whose clemency and patience they have abused. These are the hopes of the hypocrite ; tliese are expectations of a fool. As the tree fails, so it must lie : there is but a step between this world and the next. The instant the soul quits this frail tenement of clay, she knows her irrevocable doom; she resides among the spirits of just men made perfect; she partakes of the enchanting scenes, and joyful presages of perennial and in- creasing felicity; or is continually tor- mented by the ever-new aivd terrifying horrors of perdition, amidst the moanings of anguish, and the bowlings of despair. f If 66 On the Death of the Soul. If a conviction of this important truth* were impressed indelibly upon our minds; if we ever suffered the idea of death and its consequences to arise, and affect us a:s it ought ; is' it possible that we should think so ill, and act so wickedly ? Must Tre not acknowledge ourselves dead to every principle of true religion, to every pious affection, to every hope of Heaven, and even to the fear of eternal, and ac- tually threatened punishment; when our thoughts are engrossed by the wish and acquisition of this world's' good ? when our conversation is constantly frivolous, and often profane ? when our lives are spent in wickedness, folly, and dissipa- tion? The confession of spiritual death is, indeed, but rare, but the frequency and reality of it is certain : the malevo- lence, rancour, pride, avarice, and pro- fligacy, which we daily see around us, are so many symptoms, not only of the general decay of piety, but of the spi- ritual death of each individual; of that eternal destruction described and threat- ened On the Death of the Soul 67 ened by our Saviour, when he says, Fear not them that kill the hody^ but are not able to kill the soul ; but rather fear Him, which is able to destroij both body and soul in hell; yea, I say unto you, fear Him, F 2 SERMON SERMON Y ON ANGER. Genesis xlix. f; Gdr.sed be their anger, for it was fierce, and their zvrath, for it teas cruel : I wilt divide ilicm in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel. X. HE words of the djnng have, in all ages, been listened to with attention, and their exhortations regarded with reverence and respect: and it is an opinion, not les^ universal than antient, that at the time of their departure out of this world, good men have been indulged with a presci- ence of futurity, and have obtained a glimpse of those scenes in which their descendants were to act. There are ex- tant many instances, even in profane his- tory, of those who have predicted cir- cumstances, which must have been, at F 3 the 70 On Answer* C3' the time, improbable ; and which it must have been impossible that human know- ledge should foresee. Whether the pre- dictions of pagan heroes and philoso- phers have been verified by subsequent events, it is not my present intention to inquire; I have mentioned them only to prove the universality of this opinion, which could have proceeded only from tradition, that the early inhabitants of the world were enabled, at the close of life, to predict events wdiicli their posterity would perform, and Providence decree. It can never be supposed, that the blessings pronounced by the Patriarchs on their posterity were conferred by ca- price, allotted by favour, or governed by human whim : temporal blessings were indeed attached to, and conveyed by, the blessings of the Patriarchs; but a su- perior power influenced their minds, and directed their tongue ; their last words w^re received by their children as their testament; and to secure the ultimate blessing of their father, was the anxious wish of every descendant of Abraham, 2 of On Anger. 71 of whose posterity the Almighty was known to be pecuharly careful, and on whom he had promised his choicest bles- sings should be shed. It is apparent, that Jacob spoke by the immediate direc- tion of God ; for how, otherwise, can we account for his intimate knowledge and description, not only of the genius and disposition of his children, but the future condition of their posterity ? Human sa- gacity could never discover, human intel- lect would never have imagined, that the descendants of any man would all retain the same inclinations, habits, and tem- per, which had characterised their pro- genitor : yet Jacob not only evinced the most marked and clear acquaintance with the dltferent minds and disposition of his children, but even foretold the character and condition of their remote posterity; when the customs of the world would be chansied, when the usas^es of their fore- fathers would be neolected, and his own simple manners forgotten. In the hasty, but comprehensive sketch, Avhich Moses has given us of the manners F 4 of 72 On Anger. of this early period, we discover the same passions and sentiments which have since disturbed the quiol oi' society, and have been ever known to intiuencc tiie conduct of man. lie describes events and cha- racters with a fairness and accuracy wliicli constitute at once the beauty of his his- torjs and the seal af its credibility ; and which afford the strongest proof, that he had less regard for the veneration in which himself and. his ancestors were to be held in future ages, than for the sanc- tity of truth. Himself a descendant of Levi, he records, with scrupulous exact- ness, the failings and vices of his ances- tors, and the futuie fate of his family : the prophecy was literally accomplished ; the tribes of Simeon and Levi having no particular jiortion of the promised land allotted to them ; the inJieritance of Simeon being 'Within the inheritance of the children of Jidah; and tradition reports, that this tribe vras at length reduced to such nar- row circumstances, that most of them ob- tained their livelihood by instructing the children of the rest. The curse on the tribe On Auger. 75 tribe of Levi in consequence, it would seem, of their zeal for God's honour, ma- nifested at the descent of Moses from Mount Sinai, was, indeed, soon after converted into a blessing, being accepted by God instead x)f the first born, and sanctified as a family of priests. But still their condition corresponded with tlie malediction of their progenitor; their habitations being dispersed throughout the portions of the other tribes, they were literally divided in Jacobs and scattered in Israel. 1 have been led into this description of the fate of the sons of Levi and Simeon, in order to point out to you the heinous light in which their crime was considered by the Almighty, and to impress on your minds, by the example of their punish- ment, the enormity of their offence. There can be little need, I trust, to enter fully into the circumstances under which they acted, and which entailed on their j)osterity dispersion and want. It may be sufficient to niention, that a vindictive temper and settled hatred was the cause of 74 On Jngeir. of their punishment and the motive of their crime. To reveno-e the violation of their sister, they were guilty of the most dehbcrate cruelty, which stained the re- putation of their families, and exposed them to the malediction of their father, and the anger of their God. How a being could have been formed as a free agent, without passions prompt- ing him to action, and liable to excess, it is not easy to conceive : v/ithout them, indeed, society could not exist; and it is the proper direction and guidance of these passions, that create our virtue and our happiness: noi^e of them, Avhen pro- perly applied, are without their use or gratification ; the least gratifying to a be- nevolent mind, though, perhaps, under due correction and restraint, not the least useful, probably is Anger. So seldom, indeed, does the influence of this passion tend to the happiness of an individual, or the welfare of society, that philosophers, of no mean estimation, have maintained it to be, in all cases, faulty and blame- able; we wish not, however, to concern ourselves On Anger. 75 ourselves with the conceits of those whose maxims and precepts, however wise and admirable they may appear, when con- sidered as the deductions of human intel- lect, cannol be compared, in theoretic excellence or practical utility, with the commands and example of Almighty God. That Anger is not at all times sin- ■ ful, we may be assured, not only from the precept of the Apostle, be ye angrif and sin not, but from the manner in which it is sometimes mentioned i\\ other places of Script i;., and from examples written for our learning, of its operation on the language and conduct of those, whose characters are held up for our imitation, and whose practice, under the influence of a just indignation, is mentioned, not only without censure, but with praise. AVlien Moses descended from Mount Sinai, and beheld the children of Israel defiling themselves with idolatry, and worshipping a golden calf, at the very time when their Creator, who had so lately brought them out of the house of bondage, had given him laws and or- dinances 76 On Angef\ diuanccs to check their waywai-d pnssionsy and lead them to happiness : when he perceived them so forget i"ul of the bene- fits of God, as to reject his Government, and shelter, so ungrateful to their Divine Protector as to frame a golden idol, and imitate the nations around them in their impious rites and practices ; z^hcn he scm\ it is recorded, tlw golden calf and the dancing, his anger waxed hot, and he cast the tables out of his liand, and brake them beneath the Mount : so far was the anger of Moses, in this instance, culpable in the sight of God, that it, was not but for his earnest and repeated prayer and sup- plication, that He pardoned their inifjuitif and their sin, and took them again for his inlieritance. Another and still more satisfactory proof, that a sucklen feeling and exj)res- sion of resentment is not at all times sin- ful, may be collected from the example of Him, who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth; whose life was one continued scene of n^eekness, benevo- lence, and good will ; xcho, when he zms reviled^ On Anger. 77 reviled, reviled not ao-ain ; zcJicn he suffered, though possessed of omnipotent power, threatened not; u'ho zcas meek and loulij ; and who, even in the hist agonies of the Cross, prayed for his murderers ; — even the example of our blessed Saviour; wlio, when struck b}^ a servant of the High Priest, answered in a strain of just re- proach and mild resentment, If I have spoken evil, hear witness of the evil ; but if well, z^h)/ smitest ihou me ? No passion cer- tainly is criminal, except when carried to excess; they were all given for wise and benevolent purposes, to carry us witli s-teadiness and virtue through this vrorld, and to fit us for the happiness of that which is to come: and it is no more na- tural or commendable not to feel anger under an unjust accusation or unworthy treatment ; than to resist the influence of otiier passions, to repress admiration at the sight or recital of a benevolent action, or to subdue fear when sinking in a bois- terous sea. But although we have so high au- thority for the sense and exercise of a just 78 On Anger, just indignation, we must by no means suppose, that a settled indulgence of it is allowable, or that it is likely that any man should give way to the emotions of Anger, without transgressing those rules, which secure to society its happiness, and to individuals repose. So difficult is it to he angry and sin not ; so easily are we led into error by the corrupt passions of hu- man nature, that amidst the multiplied contentions, which we all must have ob- served among our neighbours, none of us can, perhaps, remember a single instance, in w^hich any one, who surrendered him- self to the guidance of this passion, did not also violate the bounds of charity, and had reason to repent of actions or language, which no sense of injury could warrant, which no resentment could jus- tify, or reason excuse. It is pretended by some, who are not ashamed to call themselves passionate, that the ebullitions of Anger are irresistible ; that their feel- ings are so finely woven, their nerves so delicately strung, the}^ are unable to stem the tide of passion, cannot bridle intem- perate On Anger. 79 perate sallies of reproach, and mnst utter threats of vengeance, which no one would think of executing, and which themselves, in a calmer moment, would condemn. It is to be lamented, that a being who is in- dued with, and deservedly boasts of rea- son, should be obliged to have recourse to such weak and shallow arguments to palliate the aberration of it, and should seek to excuse the errors of the under- standing, by confessing itself incapable of directing its application and use. It should be considered too, that the tem- per, which is so commonly called passion- ate, and which is, I know not for what reason, not only defended, but often frankly avowed, is, in its efiects, most injurious to society, and to the comfort of private life ; and is that which pro- duces, in its own bosom, the most fre- quent occasions of regret and remorse. It is, I bqlieve, generally admitted, that exevy one is chiefly happy or miserable at home. If then, by intemperate and causeless ebullitions of An:;cr, a man makes his family miserable around him, and 80 On Ano'cr. and learful without dcsion of oftendino- him, his wife, his cljildren, or his ser- vants, feel themselves happy in his ab- sence, and too often dread his approach ; he himself poisons the springs of domes- tic felicity, and dams up those inlets of pleasure, which afford to the virtuous the most chaste and rational gratification, the most perpetual and cahnest delight. He distresses those whom it is his duty and interest to console and protect; he won- ders that he finds so little comfort in the world, when himself is tlie parent of un- happiness, and forms the leaven of the discontent and dissatisfaction that sur- rounds him, and which* he complains of in the rest. But the pride of humanity has pro- duced, in conjunction with Anger, ano- ther piission, more black in its nature, and more dreadful in its effects; a passion which, when fostered in the mind of any man, supersedes every other emotion; deafcp.s the voice of charity, and renders him, shunned by his neighbours, and un- happy in himself: jig one, I believe, ever felt On Ansei\ 81 "to felt himself happy when in anger, or guiltless in the gratification of revenge: the latter is, indeed, a propensity so ut- terly dissonant to every good principle ; so repugnant to that peace and serenity, ■which the good have always aspired after, and which even the wicked hope to attain, that it destroys every vestige of happiness, as well as of virtue, and would, indeed, seem unnatural, did not the various and multiplied crimes of mankind assure us of the corruption of our nature, and loudly tell us, that without the guidance and protection of the Holy Spirit of God, we should invariably glide down the stream of iniquity, and become the wil- ling slaves of wickedness and vice : for however natural and gratifying it may seem to a sinful creature, to return pain to him that has inflicted it, yet morality, as well as religion, will teach us, that the wish itself is criminal ; that it is a passion not implanted in man by his Creator, but one of those which his corruption has in- troduced. To exult in the pain or pu- nishment of an enemy; to contrive plans G of §2f Oil Anger. of mischief, and meditate revenge, is surely more congenial to the disposition of those spirits, whose senses are infu- riated by the sufferance and certainty of eternal misery, than of man who hopes himself for pardon ; who daily enjoys blessino's which he must confess his trans- gressions have forfeited, but which his Creator does not cease to bestow. He that duly considers his own weak- ness and frailty, will not long cherish sen^* timents of hostility : when our feelings are hurt by insolence, or our persons in- sulted by offence, we almost always feel more than was intended to be inflicted :- and although no sores are more inveterate than those that affect the mind, we can- not experience pleasure more genuine, than when we have conquered a dispo- sition of resentment; the heart expands, and is enlivened by the glad assurance, that we have acted as we ought, that we have gained a victory over a sinful pas- sion, and overcome evil with good. Tliere is no crime more strongly reprobated in the Gospel, than cruelty or deliberate re- venge ; On Anger, 83 Venge ; none renders us more unworthj^ of, or unfit for, the enjoyment of Heaven; none is so opposite to that peace and tranquillity, which the Christian trusts hQ shall enjoy hereafter ; none more conge- nial to those spirits, who are reserved in chains of darkness for the great day. How, indeed, can we expect happiness in a fu- ture state, the pleasures of which are directly contrary to that disposition of mind and course of action, which, in this ]ife, we have cherished and indulged? How can we be pleased with celebrating the praises of a Benefactor, when we have been accustomed to be gratified by the punishment of an enemy : if, indeed, there can be any real gratification in the indulgence of a passion, so hostile to hu- manity. It has been said, that revenge is sweet, but surely its sweetness is like that of a poisonous drug, which never fails to corrupt and corrode the heart of him that feeds on it. It was this malignant and vindictive disposition, tliat brought upon the tribes of Simeon and Levi the malediction of G 2 their 84? On Answer, their father; and it is this ternper of mind, against which we are most particu- larly guarded in Scripture, and which we are chiefly bound to repress and subdue, as it tends, more than any other passion, to vitiate the soul, and to extirpate those seeds of goodness which have been im- planted by our Heavenly Father, and never fails to generate those evil and cor- rupt principles, which not unfrequently produce crimes, at which humanity shud- ders, and on which everlasting punish- ments are denounced: it is a passion most destructive to the peace of the individual ■who indulges it ; it admits of no commu- nion with other affections : charity, gra- titude, and benevolence are for ever swept away, and borne down by its force : no wonder then our blessed Saviour, in almost every discourse and communica- tion which he is recorded to have had with his disciples, most earnestly recom- mends and inculcates the doctrine of for- giveness, since it is so immediately con- nected with our present and eternal hap- piness; since it is an attribute of the Deity On Anger, 85 Deity on which we look with most com- placency and hope, and trust, that through the merits and intercession of our Redeemer, our tre^*passes will he for- given, even as we have jorgiven those who have trespassed against us. G 3 SERMON SERMON VL ON THE CONDUCT OF ST. PAUL. Acts xxvi. 24-. Paulf thou art beside thyself, much karning doth make thee mad ! Men have ever been ready to impute folly and absurdity to others, whose sen- thuents or conduct have been discordant to their own. The remark, that the in- tellect of one man is weak, and the opinions of another fallacious, is repeated go often, and with so little justice, that it is, as it should be, perhaps, heard with inattention, and makes but little impres- sion on those to whom it is addressed. Inconsistency in opinion and practice, is now, indeed, so common, that when we observe any one pursuing a course of G 4 life 88 On the Conduct of St, Paul life different from the principles he is known to allow and profess, it excites lit- tle or no surprise; but when he sets up to publish new dogmas of faith, or fresh deductions of the understanding, all, who oppose his tenets, at once declare, that he is either influenced by interest, or led away by fanaticism. That the former was not the case of St. Paul, has been proved too often and ably by others, to allow me to hope to adduce any farther refutation of it: it may not, however, be uninter- esting to enquire into the justice of the reasons which induced the Roman Go- vernor to suppose, that his prisoner was beside himself; and thus, by a reviewal of the conduct and professions of St. Paul, we shall obtain full assurance of the pu- rity of his faith, and of the certainty, not only that he was himself convinced of the truth of the cause in which he was en- gaged, but of the wisdom and justice of his abandoning his former habits and avowed opinions, and of embracing a re- Jiffion which he had before despised, and of On the Cmdiict of St. Paul S§ of which he had been so violent a per- secutor. When we consider the state of Chris- tianity at the time of St. Paul's con- version ; the danger it brought upon its disciples, and the contempt with which it was almost every where received, we sliall not wonder that Festus, or any other heathen, should suppose any one to be mad who forsook fortune, fame, and au- thority, for the sake of a belief, whicli could not fail to bring on him disgrace and danger, and probably would produce to him extreme misery and death. It is, indeed, one of the strongest arguments in favour of Christianity; that it in- creased neither the power nor the reputa- tion of its proiessors, but was sure to ex- pose them to suiierings wliich they would otherwise have avoided, and which could only be endured in the hope of a crown of glory in another world : ?f hi this life only we have hope, sajs St. Paul, we are of alt men most miserable. It is true there have been men who, wound up to a high pitch of religious frenzv, 90 On the Conduct of St. Taul frenz}', rather than renounce their errors, have sustained the most painful tortures; and there mav, perhaps, have been in- stances of some who have endured, and even courted persecution, in support of a cause which thev knew to have been a bad one; hut noi.e ever broached or pro- pagated an imposture, without some temptation to deceive, some allurement to seduce thetu, sonic prospect of honour or advantage, that might soften their suf- ferings, and encourage them to bear their miseries with constancy and courage. The compassion and veneration of the multitude ; the hope of rendering their cause and characters illustrious among their co-temporaries, and respected by posterity, may have induced some to en- dure great temporal hardship, and death itself, with fortitude, and even with joy. But St, Paul had none of these incen- tives to allure him to the profession of the Gospel, the sect of wliich he became a member every where was spoken against, and whatever merit he might acquire by the patient endurance of sufferings, he wa^ On the Conduct of St, Paul. Ql was not likely to be reverenced or yjiticd by foreign nations, and he was sure of being execrated by his own. That a man should thus brave danger, and set his own nation, nay, the whole civilized world at defiance, for the sake of a cause which he did not himself be- lieve to be true, is so very incredible, and the improbability of it has been so fully exposed by much abler hands, that it would be needless in me to notice the ar^ guments which infidelity has brought for- ward to prove, that St. Paul was an im- postor, that he did not really believe what be so strongly asserted, and maintained with so much resolution and zeal, I shall therefore confine myself to the charge of religious insanity brought aganist him by the Roman Proconsul, and in the follow- ing discourse, adduce one or two instances drawn from the conduct and conversatiou of this Apostle, which, I trust, will fully establish the fact, that he was so tar hoai being justly charged with insanity or fa- naticism, that he often employed means, which were the result of the most wary prudence m On the Conduct of St. Paul prudence and caution, and which would never have been resorted to by any one, whose reason and intellect were not per- fectly calm and clear. There is no surer symptom of fanati- cism or religious insanity, than headstrong rashness in asserting its tenets, and un- bending obstinacy towards those who op- pose or discredit them. St. Paul, it will be owned, could seldom be accused of this imprudence; his reasoning was mild, steady, and convincing; his conduct to- ■wards his opponents firm, calm, and dig- nified ; and though he suffered perils with- out number, and without end, he never needlessly exposed his person to danger, cr his doctrine to abuse. In the Scripture History of his travels and apostolical labours, there are not wanting instances of his condescension to the scruples, and even the prejudices of his auditors; and whenever he could do it without betraying the interest or credit of the cause he so ardently longed to establish, he availed himself of every occasion and circumstance which might securq On the Conduct of St. Paul. ()3 secure him from disgrace or clanger, and used means which, to an enthusiast, would seem improper and unfair. When at Athens, he was arraigned before the Areopagus, a court purposely instituted for the suppression of Heresy, which took cognizance of every departure from the established worship, and punished every innovation on the rehgious customs of their forefathers with imprisonment and death. It consisted of men, who were fully persuaded of the evil tendency of suffering novel doctrines to be promuU gated ; and who, though they perhaps allowed of different modes of w^orship- ping the gods of their ancestors, yet con- sidered rehgion as of the first importance, both to the interest of the individual, and the welfare of the state. Before such judges an enthusiast would have thought himself happy to be admitted to publish his tenets, and would have eagerly caught at the opportunity of signalizing himself by a contest with men, whose persons and characters were sacred, and wopld have hoped to have renclered his naipe and cause 94 On the Conduct bf St. Paul cause illustrious by opposition to a courtj which was the dread of the tumultuous citizen, and the admiration of the world. AVhat was the behaviour of St. Paul when accused before this celebrated as- seii.bly, as a setter forth of strange Gods, and of disturbing the peace of the city, by the promulgation of doctrines of which no one knew the nature or the end ? Did he, as fonatics have ever done, endeavour to vindicate himself by load- ing his enemies with calumny and intem- perate abuse ? Or did he meanly shrink from examination, and seek his safety by a recantation, or a confession of the charge ? No, he exhibited neither the timidity of guilt, nor the pervcrseness of fanaticism. lie had observed, in hi$ visits to the different places of worship at Atfiens, an altar, inscribed " to the un- known God/' and availing himself of the ignorance and blind idolatry of his ene- mies, afhrmcc!, that this was the Deity he preached; zcJwm. ijc Ignorantly worship^ him dedarc I unto you. And this he might do without the imputation of deceit or false- 2 hood ; On the Conduct of St. Paul. QB hood ; Christ was indeed the " unknown God/^ who had created and preserved them, to whom their prayers and thanks- givings of right belonged, and who, how- ever despised and neglected by these vain and self-sufficient idolaters, had all along watched over their city, and kept them from injury and harm. Was this insanity ? Would an enthu- siast have submitted to employ such a de- fence against his accusers ? and to such an expedient of clearing himself from a charge he could not repel, and the truth of which could not otherwise be contro- verted or denied ? It has ever been the practice of enthusiasts to treat their op- ponents with indecent insult and scorn ; and far from yielding to the passions of individuals, or the temper of the times^ they have always represented their adver- saries as men, with whom it did not be- come tl>em to argue, and whom it was useless to labour to convince. But St. Paul's defence was at once ingenious and dignified ; it did not tamely surrender the point in dispute, nor rashly provoke the malice §6 On the Conduct of St. PauL malice of his enemies ; it was calculated to calm their fury and sooth their preju- dices ; it partook not of the wild rant of an enthusiast, but was the genuine dic- tate of soberness and truth. Nor is this the only instance recorded in Scripture, of the caution and prudence of St. Paul : when brought before the great council of the Jews, he perceived that one part were Sadducecs, and the other Tharisees, He did not fail to avail him- self of their dissention ; and aware of the rancour that subsisted between them, on account of controverted points of doc- tnne, and principally concerning the re- surrection of the dead, he hoped, that by declaring himself decidedly against the opinion of one party, he should in- duce the other to regard him with more favour and complacency. Instead, there- fore, of at first avowing, in terms which would hfive been offensive to both par- ties, that he had returned to Jerusalem to preach Jesus, whom they had crucified, which must have inflamed against him the whole council and nation of the Jews, Ae On file Conduct of St. PauL 97 he cried out, I am a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee, of the hope arid resurrection of the dead, I am called in question. By thus claiming kindred to the most considera- ble party, he averted the sentence and indignation of tlie Sanhedrim, and evinced, that his conversation and con- duct was not hurried away by the rude gust of intemperate passion, but was re- gulated by the sober rules of prudence and good policy. No one will deny, that this conduct was the farthest removed from that which an enthusiast would adopt; and there are some, even in this age of lukewarmness and loose principles, who would scruple to employ, what they might affect to call, a subterfuge, too mean for one whose life was dedicated to the service of the Gos- pel. But St. Paul, through the whole course of his ministry, exhibited a mind too noble and generous, too brave and inflexible, to be ever influenced by timi- dity or the fear of death: and the most that can be said of his thus endeavouring to obtain the good-will of a great part of H this 98 On the Conduct of St. Paul this council, is, that whenever opportu- nity occurred, without endangering the cause he preached so zealously, and giving up a material point of doctrine, he was more willing to conciliate favour than awaken malignity, and would rather win disciples by persuasion, than aAve them by reproach. None are cherished with more warm affection than the children of the fancy ; and as it sometimes happens in the na- tural warld, the more deformed and mon- strous the production, the dearer it be- comes to those who have begotten it and brought it up. This is assuredly the case with the offspring of the brain : when^ ever any one has formed an opinion which he thinks is all his own, and which has never before been heard of, he makes it the sole business of his life to cherish and support it; and to no opinions are men attached with more fond credulity, than to tliose which are engendered by error, and fostered by pride. St. Paul was, perhaps, freer from this weakness than any man we can recollect to have heard On the Conduct of St. PailL p^ heard or read of. Naturally of a warm and sanguine temper, he became closely attached to the principles in which he had been bred ; he did not, as is the practice of too many in the present day, run after novel doctrines, having itching ears, Init firmly convinced of the truth of his religion, he thought it his duty to pro- mote its establishment and security, and to persecute all v/ho opposed it^ even nnto strange cities. Here, perhaps, he might have been liable to blame ; but if we con- sider the state of the heathen world at the time in which he lived ; the abomina- ble absurdities of every religion of the Gentiles ; their obscene rites, and the evil tendency of many of their doctrines ; his hatred to every other mode of worship but his own, which was certainly the only one pure, and of divine original, cannot appear unreasonable or unjust; and in a Jew, who conscientiously adhered to the religion of his forefathers, his persecution of the Christians, whom he justly cort- FJdered as the most formidable enemies of H 2 Judaism, iOO On the Conduct of St. Paul Judaism, cannot be imputed to enthu- siasm or distempered zeal. When in consequence of the visible and direct rays of ineffable glory, shining full upon the soul, and illuminating the whole mind of St. Paul, he became a convert to Christianity ; his deportment and disposition were conformable to the liabits and character he had exhibited while acting under his former principles; he was equally zealous in the cause which he was now convinced he had unjustly persecuted; indefatigable in his endea- vours to promote it, in labours more abun- dant than even the original Apostles of our Lord, and patient under the most im- minent perils and most grievous cala- mities : yet was he free from violence of temper, from that extravagance and bigotry which have ever been the most pumnnent features ni the character of enthusiasts ; his demeanour to his judges at once evinced the most cahn urbanity, and the brightest innocence ; he fre- quentl}^, by the elegance of his manners, bespoke On the Conduct of St. Paul. 101 bespoke the favour and esteem of his au- ditors, and generally prefaced his defence by a happy compliment on the person or station of liis judges. / think myself hap- py that I shall ansii)er before thee, was his address to Agrippa, who he knew must have been his enemy, being equally prompted by his duty as a king, and swayed by prejudice as a Jew, to wish for and promote the suppression of his cause and doctrine; as it tended, he sup- posed, to subvert established usages, and disturb the public peace. Such then was the conduct and con- versation of this holy Apostle, and such will ever be the effects of Christianity, on the minds of all who thoroughly compre- hend its nature and its principles, and such surely ought to be the uniform prac- tice of every man who profcss(^s to be a sincere disciple of our Lord, and to rest his hope of salvation on a steady com- pliance with the |)recept3 of that religion, v/hich will best promote his happiness in this life, and assuredly bring him peace at the last. n 3 SERMON SERMON VIl. ON THE NECESSITY AND BENEFITS OF BAPTISM. St. Matthew iii. 15. Suffer it to he so now, for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness. When Jolm the Baptist " came preaching in the wilderness of Judea/' the solemnity of his appearance, the no- velty of his character, and his command- ing eloquence, attracted great multitudes to hear him, and induced many, who seem to have had a very imperlect know- ledge of his preparatory mission and per- sonal qualities, to prooiise obedience to the commands of God, a ad to receive the baptism of repentance. The young and the aged, the needy and the powerful, the Scribe and the Pharisee, all iiocked to the H 4? wUder-^ lO-i- On the Necessity and v/ilderness to hear, perhaps, " some new thing," or ,to be convinced, by the evi- dence of their own senses, of the excel- lence of his doctrine, and the autliority by which he spake. So great and extra- ordinary do thes^ appear to have been, that we read they all confessed hun to have been a prophet, and readily em- braced that baptism which, though it was to be followed by the more efficacious and holy Baptism of Christ, obliged them to repentance, and was considered as the beginning of amendment of heart, and as an avowal of the expectation of that prophet 7i)ho should come into the zi)orld. At length " Jesus conieth to John to be bap- " tised of him ;" who, being fully aware of the superiority of his person, his total ex- emption from sin, and of course of the inutility of baptism, exclaimed, with sur- prise and humility, I have need to be bap- tised of thee, and comest tliou to me. Jesus did not reprove bis prejudice, nor deny the justice of jiis observation ; but in or- der to comply with the customs and man- ners of the Jews, or, peihaps, rather to atibrd Benefits of Baptism. 105 afford John an opportunity of behokling the Divine evidence, by whicli he was to be assured that Jesus was indeed the Christ, and which followed immediately .after his ascension from the water, re- plied, suffer it to be so nozi\ for thus it he- co)neih us to fulfil all righteousness. There is no greater proof of the cor- ' ruption and perversity of human nature, than the joropensity which man has, in every age, betrayed to pervert tlic plain sense of scripture, to distort tl;c niC^t positive precepts and clearest doctrines of our Saviour, and to make the oblL^atioii to fulfil all righteousness, a matter of pert debate and frivolous enquirj^ Were our knowledge of the Deity, and of our con- dition in a life to coiiic, to be collected only from the discoveries of unassisted reason, it would, indeed, be small and unsatisfactory ; but our beneficent Cre- ator has given us every assistance to dis- cern, and every aid to practise, the doc- trines and dictates of purity and virino: there needs little instruction to make us understand, that man is fai removed from liis 105 0)1 the Necessity and his original innocence ; we need not search the scriptures to be inlbrnied, that though God 7nade mem in his own image, yet he has sought out to himself man?/ inven- tions : the inward workings of our minds, the most common propensities, the or- dinary thoughts and feehngs of every man, when left without a guide to assist him, are, it must be confessed with sor^ row, oidij evil continurdhj. Philosophers may boast of the depth of their research, and the progress they have made in po- litical science and moral equity; but when did man, by natural instinct, b}^ the mere light of reason, publish or com- plete any code of precepts which was suited to prevent or check the evil pro-^ pensities of corrupted nature; which would lead him to happiness, or prescribe laws for perfect morality ? Which of the sages of antiquitjs so famed for their maxims, their ethics, their directions for virtue and social duty, ever propagated a precept so plain, so simple, so well adapted to the capacity and condition of ■every man, as that divine rule edited by our Benefits of Baptism, 107 jL>ur Saviour: — Whatsoever you would that men should tlo unto you, even so do unto them? No; the taint of the sin of our first parents has too deeply tinged the na^ ture and understanding of their posterity to suffer them to discover, much less to practise, without the aid of their Maker, the purity necessary for partaking or en- joying the delights of Heaven, even tha wayward passions of infancy too surely prove, that the confession of the Psalm- ist is applicable to every man : — Behold, I Z0as shapeji in wickedness, and in sin did my mother conceive me. The doctrine of orioiinal sin, if it be not admitted as a fundamental article of our religion, must, at least, be allowed to afford the best and most satisfactory ac- count of its deceitfulness and frequency; and if this consideration be properly acted upon, it will best promote a desire of amendment, will repress presumption, and animate us with gratitude to our Re- deemer, and love for our God. He that confesses an inclination to sin, and its propinquity to our nature, will certainly be 108 On the Necessity and be most ready and vigilant in ofuardinsc against its insidious approach; and how much soever this doctrine may have been regarded by the heedless with contempt? and by the proud with disdain, we can no otherwise understand the propriety or beneficence of the Gospel institution ; on no other principle can we reconcile the humiliation, death, and sufferings of Jc~ suH Christ tl it righteous, with the justice of God, his mercy, or his love. And how can we otherwise account for that general neghgcnce in the practice of duties, by which the protection of Heaven is pro- pitiated, and favour secured ; when such negligence can neither promote pleasure nor procure advantage ? How can we, in any other way, explain that sluggish re- luctance to devotion, so generally prac- tised, and so justly deplored, than by the melancholy conviction, that there remains in the mind*abiasto impurity; that an address to our Maker, and the considera- tion of his goodness, is often less gratify- ing than the most vain and idle amuse- ments, and even the lassitude of sloth ? But Benefits of Baptism. 109 But many are unwilling to admit tlic actual corruption of man, on the supposi-^ tion that this opinion would loosen the bands of amity, and would rob them of that genuine pleasure which is produced by supposing that mankind, in general, are virtuous and benevolent, ready to assist the weak, and comfort the miser- able; that if men were so far gone in original impurity, the heart would be in- capable of those generous feelmgs and liberal principles, which often do honour to our nature, and produce the most en- larged sentiments of benevolence and social love. This objection is defeated, I will not say by the general practice of the world, but by the reflection and the knowledge of our redemption from sin and corruption by the death and merits of our Saviour, for it is God that zcorketh in ns both to i^ill and to do of his good plea- swe. Whatever, therefore, is praise- Avorthy in our life or nature, whatever inclinations we may feel in our hearts of piety to God, or charity to man, must be attributed to his influence, and to him the glory 110 On the Necessifi/ and glory of them is due. They do afford iis^ indeed, at the time, and in the recollec- tion, the greatest and most rational de- light; as they are the best and most con- vincing proofs that the mind is inclined to virtue and godliness, and most power- fully promote the assurance that we are the children of God, aq^ heirs of eternal life. The doctrines, and the practice of Christianity, are so intimately blended, that they cannot be separated, or be cherished apart. The faithful and humble Christian will never be bereft of the glad assurance, that his duty is in unison with Lis happiness; in every condition of life he will be comforted and guided by the aids of the Gospel, and the consolations of religious hope. It is this, indeed, which renders the state of the faithful, in apparently the most calamitous circum- stances, so much superior to that of the infidel, whose only hope is in the shade of everlasting night, and whose more certain fear is the gleam of fire which is vmqueuchablc. Our I Benefits of Baptism. Ill Our Heavenly Father, pitying liis de- generate creatures, beneficently inclined to pardon their propensity to sin, and determined to reclaim them from universal wickedness and consequent misery, hath, with the most unspeakable mercy, adopted us as his children, after we, by our own iniquity, had forfeited his fatherly pro- tection, and impiously distrusted his love. He hath bij the precious blood of Christ appointed the means of restoration to his favour, and reinstated us in the same rank and similitude which our first parents so bountifully enjoyed, and so deservedly lost. For notwithstanding we are the offspring of a guilty lineage, notwith- standing the influence of our passions continually soliciting and betraying us to transgression, and to rebel against our Maker ; notwithstanding the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, notwithstanding the multiplied and numberless instances of rebellion and ingratitude to our Creator, open insults of his powxr, and impious profanations of his name, the Almighty still condescends to adopt us again into his il2 On the Necessilij mid his familj^ to admit us to the privileges of children of God by faith in Jesus Christ. For as mamj of you as have been baptized into Christ have put f.- Chiisf. This pavfion anrl adoption cannot be supposed to be g'':inted v.ithout some acknowledgment on our part, some con- fession of his kmdness, some promise of obedience to bis word. Accordingly at our baptism, which is to be regarrded as ^ a federal I'ite, which gives us the privileges and title of the children of God, and inheritors of the kingdom of Heaven, we on our part make by our s})onsors a full renunciation of sin, whether produced by an invisible and subtile adversary, or whether it be the effect of a weak and depraved appetite. We are required to " renounce the Devil and all his works, " the vain pomp and glory of the world, *' with all covetous desires of tiie same, " and the carnal desires of the flesh/* To be utter strangers to the corrupted aliections incident to man, or to be com- pletely exempted from their influence, is not tp be expected ; nor is it, perhaps, attainable Benefits of Boptism, US attainable by a Imman and a fallen crea- ture : we are only required, according to the excellent and rational form prescribed by our chuich, to promise that we " will " not follow nor be led by them." Which promise may be made with confidence, and be kept with ease by those who riglitly employ the blessings procured for them by the death and mediation of Jesus Christ. To those, indeed, who attend rigidly to the consequences of sin, who ivithout reflecting on the love and super- abundant merits of their Saviour, have yielded to an overweening fear of the effects of corruption, and are too apt to distrust the protection and mercy of the Almighty: the conditions of the new covenant may, perhaps, appear harsh and severe. Conscious of the multiplicity and strength of the enemies of godliness, aware that we have to oppose and over- come the urgent calls of corrupted appe- tite, the tendency and allurements of bad example, and I fear, I may add, the general practice of the world, strengthened by the wiles and efforts of an insiduous I spiritual 114 On the Necessity and spiritual enemy ; many weak, though very pious, minds have suffered apprehensions which must ever be needless, and are totally unscriptural, which the word of God is expressly promulged and is adapted to lighten ; and from the objects of which it affords the most ample defence. When we are required to renounce the world, it cannot be understood to mean, that the blessings which the Almighty has spread in infinite profusion on this lower creation, are to be refused with mortify* mg self-denial, and regarded with con- tempt; they were all given for the use and comfort of man, and it is only the abuse and excessive indulgence of them tiiat is detrimental to our spiritual welfare. And it is no less certainly than wisely ordered that the inordinate indulgence of pleasure is not more sinful in the sight of God, than pernicious to our future happi- ness, and even to our present repose. While our passions are kept under the guidance and influence of religion, they form the firmest band of social and moral excellence, and contribute alike to our prosperity J Benefits of Baptism. 115 prosperitv and our virtue. A renunciation of them would, indeed, be slaverj? ; and might with justice be considered as an abdication of the privileges of our nature, as d voluntary and galling servitude which could neither promote the glory of God, nor the happiness of his creatures. It will conduce much to the right understanding of the sacrament of bap- tism, and will best explain its use and necessity, if we consider the ordinance it superseded. When the Almighty vouch- safed to enter into a covenant with Abraham^ and to adopt his family as his peijuhar inheritance, he appointed cir* cumcision as the seal and token of the compact, which was to secure to his pos- terity blessings superior to their fellow- creatures, and assure them of his fatherly protection and love. The analogy betweert. circumcision and baptism will be more apparent if we consider that each of them was applied, when we enter into an agree- ment with God to forsake sin, in order to obtain pardon of guilt, and future pro- tection by faith in his word, and obedience I 2 to Il6 On the 'Necessity and to his law. Jt is not the least weighty of the arguments in favour of Christianity, that its doctrines are so closely woven, not only with each other, but with all preceding revelations of God, that we can reject none without weakening our faith in the rest. Thus to understand the necessity of baptism, to comprehend the use and efficacy of entering into a cove- nant with our Maker, we must admit and believe the doctrine of original sin, and the fatal consequences of the corruption of our first parents. As Christianity has followed, and is built on the faith of the Jews, so has baptism superseded and annulled the necessity of circumcision, Judaism must be considered as the parent stock, and Christianity as the branch that beareth the fruits of righteousness. They are, indeed, so intimately blended, that their doctrines form necessarily one con- nected volume of faith. The religion of Christ is so closely engrafted on the his- tory of the people of Israel, that it is impossible to understand the one without y^ome knowledge of the other. And as the Benefits of Baptism. 1 17 the initiatory rite of reception into the Jewish religion was established as the seal of the old covenant, so must baptism be regarded as the circumcmon made with- out hands in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ. No one, I apprehend, will deny, that our Creator has an absolute right to our obedience without any promise of reward or expectation of advantage. In him we live and move, and have our being; from him is derived every blessing we enjoy, and every good we hope for. It is a subject of unbounded thankfulness and praise, that he has vouchsafed at all to enter into covenant with his creatures, and assure them of reward if they abstain from evil, love God, and keep his com- mandments. And so mild is his law, and so infinite his mercy, that although the precepts of the Gospel teach tliat it be- Cometh us to fulfil q}\ righteousness ; yet the Almighty, who knoweth what is in man, will, on the involuntary and hasty com- mission of sin, pity our weakness and pardon our infirmity. But the knowledge X 3 of 118 On the Necessity and of this weakness, instead of providing an excuse for our errors, ought in justice to make us more vigilant and careful : we are aware of, and have been cautioned against the danger, and it behoyes us to avoid and resist it. I'hough the approach to the maze of wickedness may be spread with flowers which seem to invite repose, and to promise delicious security; yet when we are assured that the path termi- nates in darkness, to hesitate is folly, and to advance is destruction ; the declivity of t!ie way may at first be easy and gentle^ our progress will be seldom perceived, and is scarcely resistible: the senses soon become intoxicated with the changes or repetition of vicious indulgence, the dancrer is not discovered till we find our- selves on the brink of the pit of unending misery, where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. It should never be forgotten, that every sin we commit is a direct violation of our baptismal covenant, that we thereby re- nounce and abandon all claim and expec- tation of assistance from God, and of the blessings Benefits of Baptism. II9 blessings which every sincere disciple of Christ must confess to constitute his truest happiness, and his greatest good. Th-e Gospel dispensation allows of no reserva- tion of offences, to which passion may solicit, which custom may seem to pal- liate, and which, by the world, may be called venial; every direct and known transgression of the law of God is as much an affront to the Majesty of Heaven, and as justly obnoxious to his wrath, as any of those crimes which arc punished by laws which men have framed for the defence and good of society. ** He that " offendeth in one point" saith St, James, " is guilty of alh'* He that deliberately and calmly executes or meditates any action, which he knows is adverse to the precepts and laws of his Saviour, sets at nought the whole system of the Christian covenant, violates the purity of the Gospel, and denies or contemns the justice and the power of God. The servants of Christ must unavoidably incur the displeasure of their Lord, if they serve the Prince of Parkness, and by voluntarily engaging in 1 4t guilt, 120 On the Necessity and guilt, directly or virtually declare, that they feel more pleasure in the service of siij, than in the assurance of his favour, arid obedience to his word. St. Peter assures us, that the baptism •which doth save us is not only the putting away of the filth of the flesh, hut the answer of a good conscience towards God: which answer can only be given by those who earnestly and devoutly strive to conform to the example of their Saviour, who faithfully adhere to that engagement which was made at their baptism, and who cou7it all things but loss for the excel- lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus ouTt Lord. The outward ordinance, therefore, however useful and necessary it may be, and certainly is towards accomplishing the obligation to fulfil all righteousness, will not, by its own intrinsic excellency, pro- pure for the abandoned profligate, the hardened sinner, or the disdainful infidel, inheritance into the kingdom of Heaven. The service of God, into which they once professed to enter, will make their enor- mities more palpable and glaring; the remembrance B,enefits of Baptism, 121 remembrance and knowledge of the bene- fits which they have forsaken will poisoa their peace, render their pleasures taster less, and tlieir life a burden : and when they find themselves descend in": into that state when sensual pleasures pall, and the light of truth breaks in and astounds them, they will feel bitterly the loss of those consolations which the sacraments of God bestow, and which, through his mercy, they might have confidently hoped for by the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. SERMON A SERMON VIIL ON OUR EARTHLY PILGRIMAGE. Genesis xxiii. former part of verse 4 I am a strcmger and a sojourner with you^ X. HESE words were uttered by one whose wliole life bad been passed in tra- velling from one country to another, who had scarcely ever possessed any settled habitation, and who, though blessed by the Almighty with the most brilliant pros- pects of future greatness, had seldom known the comforts of kindred society, or experienced those delights, which men naturally hope for, and expect from their home. So forcibly does this expectation operate, ^nd so universally is it felt, that when Abraham had occasion to requchi a favour from the sons of Heth, he knew he 324 On our Earthly Pilgrimage. he could not awaken their pity more- efFectualJj, than by declaring himself liomeless and a stranger : I am a stranger and a sojourner with you ; give me a pos^ses- $ion of a burying place with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight. In every age and country of civilized man, a stranger has been considered as entitled to protection, and has been al- lowed to claim from the benevolent pity and respect. There have been, indeed, and I lament to add, there still are na- tions, where the name of stranger is sy- nonimous with that of enemy, where benevolence is considered as a weakness, and compassion as a crime: but these are countries in which human nature is sunk to its lowest ebb, where man only proves his superiority over the brute creation, by being more subtle in pursuing and en- trapping his adversary, by being more triumphantly savage, more ingeniously cruel. The mind of every man, when he first feels himself absent from his friends and country, becomes sensibly enervated, and shrinks On our 'Earthly Pilgrimage. 12d shrinks from evils which were before un- known, and are, perhaps, imaginary ; for it has been often proved that those who have been foremost amidst their com- panions to brave hardship, and defy dan- ger, when alone in a strange country have felt themselves feeble and defenceless, and have sunk under misfortunes, which might otherwise have appeared trivial. Almost every man is more affected by adventitious circumstances, than he is often himself conscious of, or than he is ever willing to own ; when left unexpect- edly by our friends, we naturally feel disconsolate, and in the midst of those, with whose language, disposition, and manners, he is totally unacquainted, the bravest man has confessed himself forlorn and deserted; has called to remembrance a thousand nameless comforts of which he before neither knew the value nor the existence, has felt that we all depend on each other for convenience and for happ - ness, has caught at every mark of friend- ship offered to him by a stranger, and hailed the meanest individual as a comrade and 126 On our Earthltf Titgnmagt^ and a friend. The slightest vesti2;e of hunianity on a desert shore cheers the heart of the shipwrecked mariner, and the mute signs of cordiality^ indicated by a savage, awaken tiie memory of kind- nesses which endear to him his family and home. When the Almighty selected Abraham from amidst his idolatrous brethren, and promised to him blessings, which as much surpassed ihe ordinary benefits conferred on the human race, as they must have done his own hopes and expectations : he did not bestow on him complete tem- poral happiness : the life of the Patriarch, though generally prosperous, was che- quered by many of the troubles which in this world will ever be incident to rnan* Though blessed with numerous and in- creasing flocks, the only source of opu- lence at that time known in the world, he by no means tasted the full measure of happiness ; nor were his habits and cir- cumstances likely to bestow it, for although the pastoral life may have afforded the most pleasing subjects for the poet and 8 the On our Harthly Pilgrimage. 127 the painter, and the most admired com- positions of antiquity have certainly been adorned by images drawn from the early and roving condition of our forefathers ; yet it is evident that the interests nor the pleasures of society are not to be attained or pursued in the tent or the field. When families become numerous, their wants and views are increased, the strong will be ambitious of dominion, and the weak will solicit support ; the active, and, per- haps, natural spirit of emulation, will not be confined to the benevolent purposes of mutual assistance: and when pre-eminence cannot easily be attained by honesty and labour, recourse will ever be had to hos- tility and force. The simple manners, and quiet deportment of Abraham and Lot, could not restrain the turbulent and emulous disposition of their servants from breakino; out into contention ; and the peaceful temper of Abraham induced him rather to part with a rich and fertile possession, than to live among his neigh- bours in discord and strife. That a life of wandering was not agreeable to his temper, appears 125 On our Earthly TilgnmagL appears by the manner in which he men- tions it, he is endeavouring to excite the compassion oi" the children of Ileth, when he declares, / am a stranger and a sojourner with you. These words must surely be considered as the language of complaint, and are not confined to the case and condition of the Patriarch, but may be extended, and have been repeatedly applied to the cir- cumstances of all men, and to signify the uncertainty and limited duration of human life. No one, who either hopes or fears a hfe hereafter, will hesitate to confess that here we have no " abiding city," that we are literally strangers and sojourners upon earth. Every object which can attract our attention, every creature which creeps in our path, must forcibly impress on the mind the fixed and determinate truth, that this world is not our habita- tion, or our place of rest. Even to our pagan ancestors, this world appeared by no means as the settled and proper re- sidence of the soul, to some indeed it presented amusement and gaiety, but to the On our Earthlij Filgi-iniage, li29 the far greater part of liuman kind, it was always a place of labour, vexation, and distress. Some of the philosophers of old pretended to teach the certainty, or at least the probability of a future existence, and held up to their followers the hopes of immortality and eternal bliss: but when they attempted to look beyond the grave, all was dark and interminable, they could discern nothing but the terrific phantoms of fancy, obscured by the clouds of perplexity and doubt; till the sun of righteousness arose, and clearing the celestial prospect, presented to the eye of faith the vast realms of immor- tality ; and though it may not at once have discovered the last seat of divinity, it pointed out the most prominent objects in the distance, and directed our attention to the surest grounds of credibility and the brightest beacons of our hope. Yet though the prospect of another life is clear, thouoh we be certain that another world is prepared for us, that according to our behavionr in this state of probation, our future and eternal condition will be K dcterijiiued. 130 On GUT Earthly Pilgrimage. determined, and that everasting happiness or m-ecry is now within our grasp ; hovv few are there, who reguhate their conduct by rules which are plain and easy, which have been prescribed by infinite goodness, and by a steady adherence to which, our Saviour lias promised that happiness which all believe to be attainable, but which few, it would seem, think worthy their pursuit. Though we feel ourselves stran- gers in this world, we are at no pains to seek for and secure a home in the next : so fascinated are we by the brittle enjoy- ments of this temporary scene, that ^Ve seldom think of those joys that the Lord hath prepared for those that love him. Most of us, indeed, are so much engaged in the acquisition of wealth, of power, or pro- motion, so universally are the goods of this world valued, and so greedily are they sought, that we have no time to consider or to prize the eternal rewards of the next. And when men have attained as much or more of this world's good, as would, it might be thought, glut andoition .ftud satisfy avarice, they value it so highly, 4 and, On our EarfJiIi/ Titgr image, 131 and, tlioLigli it maj, perhaps, afford tbeni little real enjoyment, they esteem it so precious and durable, that all thoughts of leaving it seem distant and improbable ; and this vain hope of lasting possession increases with the time which should render it more weak : how frequently do we hear old age garrulous in the praise of that, which it is so soon to part with ; how often does it attempt to build new" pinacles on the towers of human amljition, when the pile itself is tottering, and the base on which it rests is fa^t fallins; to decay. Tlie assurance that we are strano^er'-' and sojourners upon earth affords to the poor and miserable as much real comfort, as it does to the rich and sensual, appre- hension and alarm. When we are con- fident that this life is but a passage to another, we are of course little anxious about our present enjoyments: when our attention is fixed on another country, and that an heavenly, the delights of this life pass by us unheeded and unprized. To those then whose present situation is K 2 pitiable, 132 On our Eartlily Pilgrimage, pitiable, the view of immortality must ])resent the surest ground ot" consolation, the most pleasing prospect of hope. Wliat- ever calamities may befall him, whose wishes arc centered beyond the present transitory scene, they are borne not only with patience but even with joy; he is sure that his patience will be eternally rewarded, that he is but a stjYinger and a sojourner upon earth ; he is certain that the joys of a terrestrial paradise are as evanescent as they are glittering, and considers those who now bask in the sun- shine of prosperity, as the fluttering in- sects of a da}^ as summer flies, which the first blast of adversity will drive away, the first change of season disperse : his own views are not terminated by the bounds of mortality, but extend to the regions of celestial happiness, he waits with meek and grateful hope for an eternal mansion purchased and provided for him by his Saviour, lie looks to his home, which he knows is prepared for him, to a ciiij which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Such On our Earthly VUgr'image. 133 Such being confessedly our real condi- tion, and such llic benefits accruing iVoni a right estimate of human life; let us frequently retiect on the important change, which our departure out of this worhl will make on the temper of our minds, and on our eternal interest; let us consider that the more disastrous has been our journey through this life, the more sweet and comfortable Avill appear our home in the next; let not the false joys of this transitory existence so far dazzle our senses, as to prevent us from steadily beholding the rewards which immortality has to offer, but let us, as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from flesltly lusts, zt'ldch war against the soul; forgetting those things, zihich are behind, and reachirp: forth unto those things which are before ; let us press towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be ascribed all honour, j)ower, majesty, and dominion, now and for ever. K 3 SEHMON SERMON IX. ON THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST. 1 Tim. iil. \6, frithout controversy great is the mystery of god^ Uness : God was manifest in thejiesli, X FIERE are few texts in Scripture more full and important than the one I have BOW recited ; and though to many the truths of Christianity may appear strange and mysterious; yet to an unprejudiced and impartial mind, to every candid and ddigent enquirer, they will never seem contradictory or inconsistent ; for, how- ever some particular passages, ill-under- stood or interpreted, may at first sight, or to a mere cursory reader, a{)pear to mili- tate against this assertion ; yet to every one who owns the Scriptures as the oracles of God, as tiic suie, express word of K -i revelation. 136 On the Dkinihj of Chmf. revelation, they will always, on a furtlier insight, become reconcileable, if not plain and perspicuous; and it is no weak aro^u- nient of their authenticity and worth, that the more closely they are studied the more evident they become, the more steadily we view the great luminary of truth, the stronger and moie brilliant will be its lustre; and though the blaze may be too dazzling for those who have been long confined in the dark and gloomy caverns of superstition and ignoiance; yet to those who have been accustomed to search tlie sacred records, tliey afibrd a clear and steady light, which \\\W never fail to conduct them through all the mazes of difficulty, and all the intricacies of doubt. With those who expect to find the great and infinite scheme of redemption adapted to the v/cak and limited comprelicnsion of every dull investigator, it would be need-^ ]ess and absurd to argue or attempt to convince. But I now, 1 trust, address myself to those, among whom, though there may be some, who may want the means On the Divinity of Christ. 137 means or the leisure to study profoundly the mi/steri/ of godliness, yet (here aie none, who are witliout the will, to become wise unto salvation. It has never been my aim or my wish to load religion with difficulty, or perplex the minds of any with deep and intricate points of theology, nor would I now treat of the abstruse parts of Christianity; did not my duty dictate to me, that to be silent, with respect to the nature of this festival '^, would but corroborate the doubts of the wavering, and afford to the- infidel matter of exultation and triumph. I have, therefore, selected this text purely with a view to confirm and illustrate some of the leading points of our religion, and to refute some of those pernicious doctrines which are now so prevalent among us. In other times it might, per- haps, have been sufficient to treat of the more familiar parts of our religious belief: but at a period like the present, when the very vitals of Christianity are attacked, * Trinity Sunday. M'heii 138 On the Divinitij of Christ* when heresy stalks abroad in every varied shape, puts on the mask of candour, and assumes the disguise of moderation, bene- volence, and good will. When vice, schism, and infidelity have entered, as it were, into one comm.on league to crush every religious establishment, and to extirpate godliness and virtue from the earth ; it becomes every one to rally round the standard of his faith, to assert with con- fidence, and defend with boldness, the o-reat truths on which his best, his dearest hopes are built, and on which he relies for endless happiness, immortality, and peace. In the single verse before us, St. Paul has enumerated many, and those the most striking features of our redenjption ; he does not pretend, that the vast and mag- nificent designs of Omnipotence, are open and level to every capacity : no; it has been the wise and benevolent intention of Providence to veil from the eyes of mortals the ineffable brightness of his glory, lest, like Moses, they should fear exceedinghj and quake : for if, it is probable, the grand scheme On the Divinitij of Chrht. 139 scheme of Omnipotence had been at once unrolled, the scene would have been too great for our groveling intellect; our limited faculties would be lost in con- templatrng the transcendent fulness of the godhead, and we should at last be com- pelled to exclaim, Oh, the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God: hozp unsearchable are his judgments^ and his ways past finding out. How absurd is it then to reject any of the revelations of God, and discredit every thing, which Ave cannot reconcile to our own gross understand ings,- we may be sure, that in due time, God will reveal whatever is necessary and proper for us to know; but that to scrutinize the dis- pensations of his providence, his power, and godhead, must be vain and impious; and to reject or dispute what wx may not now be able fully to understand, or to treat as iaise or extravagant, things that Angels desire to look into, cannot fail to draw down upon us tlie just and tremen- dous vengeance of Heaven. St. Paul, in the words of the tci^t, plainly and une~ cj^uivocally 140 0)1 the Dmnitij of Christ, quivocally asserts the divinity of our Saviour, avers that God was manifest in the flesh, and affirms that Christ is our God, as well as our Redeemer and our Judge. This passage, indeed, must be convincino; to those who admit the in- spiration of St. Paul, and will be of con- siderable weight whether we oppose the subtle, and, to many, specious arguments of the Arian, or the bolder heresy of Socinus, God, manifest in the flesh. It would, I think, require more wit, or more eflrontery, than even the free-thinkers of the present day possess, to point out at what time, or in what particular manner, God, the supreme, infinite, and eternal author of our existence, was ever manifested in the flesh, without admitting that Jesus, our Saviour and Mediator, was God and man ; and, indeed, to those who allow, and who believe this twofold nature of Christ, that he voluntarily took our nature upon him, and bore our sins for us, there will be nothing in this passage offensive or re- pugnant. The incarnation of the Son of God, On the Bmnity of Christ. 141 God, liis humiliation, and appearance, in the flesh, has been admitted in the purest ages, and in every part of the Christian Avorld ; and it is only by the ignorant, the imthinking, or those whose wish it is to throw obstacles in the way of the sincere believer, that it has been questioned or denied. God, manifest in the flesh. If this had been the only passage in Scripture in which the incarnation of our Lord had been declared to us, we should even then have been bound to believe it : for it has been always acknowledged, that St. Paul wrote by the immediate influence of the Ploly Spirit; and though he sometimes speaks of worldly matters, and refers to particular times and circumstances, and to the private condition of individuals ; yet the grand aim and principal object of his writings is confessedly to elucidate and explain the mystery of godliness : his style was adapted to the persons and churches to whom his epistles are addressed : the inspiration with which he was furnished was that, which secures from error, not that 142 On the Bivinibj of Christ, that which dictates tlie whole. If then we believe him to have been an inspired apostle, we must believe the doctrines he taught; we are not allowed to discredit one part of his writings, and build our faith upon the rest; we must not reject as untrue the mysteries of our redemption, because they are not to be fathomed by human understanding. Before God, with astonishing beneficence, condescended to reveal the great truths of the Gospel, all ideas of his power, goodness, and mercy, were dark and obscure ; now that we approach nearer in our researches to the divinity, and are allowed to explore more fully the hidden riches of his glor}^ : men are unwilling to believe more than they can comprehend, professing themselves uise they become fools : in other sciences they are satiiied with a limited knowledge, in the arts of civil life ; in medicine and philosophical research, they admit that they know but in part, and that they have still much to learn ; but in divinity, in the science in which beings of a superior nature are unlearned, they expect more ample On the Dkhuhj of Christ. 143 ample information, and clearly to perceive celestial objects, which are not to be dis- covered by human intellect, nor taught by human skill. The Apostle adverts, in the^verse before us, to the most known and acknowledged circumstances of our Saviour's life and mission ; and no one who has ever read the holy Scriptures, or has ever heard the solemn truths contained in the Gospel, can be at a loss to perceive ; and few, one would think, would hesitate to confess, that the person in whom these qualities unite, and to whom these aftlrmations belong, can be no other than Jesus, whom the Apostle here explicitly pronounces to be God himself, the sole, independent principle of all things: the most august and beneficent of beings, who created, redeemed, and preserves the world, who first formed man, and afterwards bought him w ith his blood ; that man who now denies his power, and would diminish his glory, who attempts to debase his dignity, and vilify his name. Nor 144 On the Bivimil) of Christ, Nor is this the only passage in St. PauFfj epistles in uhich the divinity of our Sa- viour is affirmed : in the epistle to the Romans he cails him, Christy ivho is ove^: all, God blessed for ever. So full, so ex- press, so positive an affirmation of Christ's divinity by an inspired writer, would it might be supposed be sufficient to con- vince the most prejudiced Socinian, but to those who garble the holy writings at their pleasure, distort the plain meaning of the scriptures, and zcrest them to their own destructiony notliing is explicit, nothing is positive, nothing is plain. But we need not rest our belief of this great, this fundamental article of our religion, on the bare authority of St. Paul, (neither have I instanced all the passages in his Epistles in which this doc- trine is discussed) the Evangelists are full of this important truth. And our Saviour has, in his Gospel, several times declared his divinity, and equality in the godhead with the Father, I and the Father are one : it is not possible in English to render the full meaning of this expression, in the original On the Divinily of Christ, 145 orioinal there is a clear and manifest dis- tinction between the personality and unity of God. Besides, it is apparent that Christ does not speak of an unity of will and agreement only, but of power and authority : for when tlie Jews accused him of blasphemy, and were irritated that by his words, he made himself God, he did not evade the charge, nor seek to repel the accusation, by saying that he only conspired with the will of God, and was the humble instrument of his pleasure: but boldly appeals to the miracles, which he had performed in their sight, which he wrought, said he, that ye may know and he- lieve, that the Father is in me and I in him; which is a plain declaration, that his authority was not merely a delegation, but ^n unity of power with the Father. In another place he assures his disciple«, that he would grant their requests, not bj intercession and mediation with any supe- rior being, but by his own almighty will and authority. If ye shall ask any thing in wy name, I xvill do it. What can be a more explicit declaration of his divinity, L and 146 On the Divinity of Christ. and existence in the godheiul, than his answer to Philip, who presumptuon?Iy demanded a proot" of his mission more convincing and irrelVagable, than it was proper tor a disciple to ask, or, perhaps, possible for a mortal to leceive. Lordy shew us the Father^ and it sufficeth us I Have I been so long, time with you, and yet hast thoti not knoiiii me Philip '^ He that hath seen me, halh seen the Father, and how sayest thou then shew us the Father ? And since all jndgmeRt is committed to the Son, he must have a perfect know- ledge, not only of the outw ard and visible actions of men, but their \QYy hopes and designs ; for how otherwise, can he bring every secret thought into judgment, how bring to light the hidden thijigs of darkness, or manifest the eounstls of the heart ? To. be able to pry thus into, the schemes and intentions of men, to mark their inmost 'vvishes, and discover their criminal, though abortive designs, must be the property of Him only wlio is every where present, and omniscient, who knows and tan an- swer the petitions of his servants in the remotest 2. On the Diviniti/ of Christ. 147 remotest regions of the earth, who supplies their wants, and preserves them from evils, which they cannot foresee, and if foreseen could not avert. How these things can be understood, or accomplished hy any, but the Holy One that inhabiteth eternity, is surely as great a mystery as the blessed Trinity itself. That Christ was God^ manifest in the fleshy is not only apparent from the ap- jDcllatioiis given him in scripture, but from the attributes ascribed to him, and from the worship we are bound and enjoined to pay him. We are commanded to render that honour to him, which can only be due to the great Creator of Heaven and earth. It has been the opinion of the wisest men in all ages, confirmed by the fundamental law of true religion^ that it is the grossest impiety to adore any created being : and it is one of the earliest and clearest precepts of our Hea- venly Father, that to him all reverence is due; for I am God, said he, and t herds none else ; I am God, and there is none like me. . JBut we are commanded to honour L 2 the 148 0)1 the BivlnUij of Christ, the Son, even as we honour the FaHier, to own him as our Creator and Preserver, in whose power is our everlasting happiness, or our eternal death and misery, and we naturally pray to him to bestow on us the benefits we wish, and to avert the evils which we fear; to pardon our offences, and to receive us into glory. We are authorized in thus adoring and supplicat- ing the holy Son of God by the example and practice of the first preachers and propagators of our religion: for to invoke the name of Jesus Christ was, in the first ages of the church, the peculiar mark and test of true believers; to pray for grace and peace from oar Lord Jesus Christ, was the constant practice of ihe Apostles, and to dispense these inestimable gifts, to possess the holy spirit without measure, to communicate and apportion it to hrs chosen servants, is the especial property of supreme divinity,, and can never belong to, or be enjoyed by, any, tlie most exalted created being. Well then, may Christ expect and command the most unreserved homage, and implicit obe- dicnce> On the Divinity of Christ. 14.9 dience, since all the augrh of God zcorship him, since in Him the Almiohiy Father shines, and reigns in jov ineffable, in never- endinie up earlj/ in the morning, and offered burnt offerings for his family, which were prompted by a heart teeming with gratitude to that beneficent Creator who had On the Conduct of J oh, 157 Iiad given liim all tilings richly to enjoy. His happiness seemed firmly established ; nothing was likely to mar his repose, or to disturb that peace which he had en- joyed so long and deservedly. lie had every reason to hope that h'\s> days would glide prosperously down the unruffled stream of time, till they at length reached the ocean of a blessed eternity. Unin- terrupted success is apt to make the heart proud, the spirits feeble, and unable to bear up against sudden or unexpected calamity : and surely none could have less •expectation of distress than holy Job, who was enriched by the greatest temporal good, who was respected by his servants, beloved by his family, and happy in his home. Before we proceed it may be proper to observe, that the book of Job must be considered as a relation of actual events, and that we have no warrant from scrip- ture, or reason to suppose, as some scep- tical writers have affirmed, that it is no more than a fictitious narration, or dra- matic 158 On the Conduct of Job, matic. allegory *. Such notions are utterly inconsistent with the reverence we should entertain of holy writ, and will never be indulged, or admitted by any, who have a proper sense of the contents, or writers of the sacred volume : as they tend to oJDen a door to fancies which would Weaken, if not expel, those inviolable si^ntiments, which are implanted by our holy faith, and which every well-instructed Christian has been taught to form of a religion which is supported by evidence too firm and sacred to be treated with indifference, or to suffer the slightest abro- gation. The authenticity of the book before us is supported not only by internal fevidfetice, but by the sanction of those whose testimony should have the greatest Iveight, and whose authority is unques- tionable. The eloquence of the Prophet, and the precept of the Apostle, equally assure us of the existence of the person of Job, and of the truth of his charact:er, Bt James and Ezekiel both mention him * Vide Gray's Key to the O. T. p* 230, in On the Conduct of Job, 159 in terms that afford indubitable confirma- tion to the history : his patience and suf- ferings must, therefore, be considered as real occurrences, for ue have no more licence to regard them as fabulous, than any other matter of fact, tlie relation and credit of which has stood the lapse of time, and the test of experience. In the midst of Job's prosperity, while he thought of nothing less than the approach of distress, or the pressure of misfortune; while his children were feast- ing in their elder brother's house, while his friends partook of his fare, were en- livened by his presence, and happy in his conversation, he received an account that his property was irrecoverably lost, his means of living gone, and that his whole family has perished in a whirlwind. His grief must have been proportioned to the magnitude of his loss, and heightened by the extreme difterence of a state of in- digence with the prosperous condition in which he had been accustomed to live^ and in which distress and penury had found him. His calamities were lightened by l€Q On the Conduct of Jok bj no feeling eye, no friend synipatliisec! With his distress, no voice of consolation gladdened his ear, or strove to raise his ejes from the blank and mournful prospect around him. And, at length, when he must have supposed that he had reached llie bottom of the pit of sorrow, that he had borne all that want, devastation, and distress, could heap cm a wretch whose all was gone beyond possibility of re- covery, he felt he had still farther to fall, and a still greater distress was about to overwhelm him. His spirits were weakened bj disease, he became an object of avoid- ance, and all who saw beheld him with aversion. His body was the loathsome abode of a soul wearied with sorrow, and borne down with accumulated woe, pain, and affliction. In this state of misery he exclaimed in a tone of anguish. Have pity on ?/?6, have pihj on me O ye myfriemhy for the hand of God hath touched me. Nothing is more grating to the mind of the elevated, nothing more repugnant to that generosity, which often gives birth toijentiments and actions, which exalt the soul, On the Conduct of Job. l6l sou], and have done honour to humanity, than the indulgence of complaint, and the cry of supplication. To sue for pity is to renounce the rights and feelings of man, to confess mental weakness, and to acknowledge subjection. It is, therefore, the last resource of the miserable, and is often more dreaded than all the attacks of violence, or even the terrors of dissolu- tion. In the height of prosperity, while his people awaited his nod, were anxious to prevent his wants, and anticipate direc- tion, the mind of Job, probably, would have spurned the idea of dependance, scofted at pity, and would have racher met the dart of death, than the voice of command, or the eye of a superior. We have no reason to suppose that Job was divested of passions, which all are known to possess, and which are conunon to Imman nature : the poignancy of his misery proves the contrary, and affords the strongest evidence, that as he felt acutely the icy gripe of distress, he must have enjoyed proportionably the sunshine of prosperity. If he had been insensible to M the iG'2 On the Conduct of Job. the ojood thinos of life, and the blessinG;s \Vliicli God had bestowed upon him, his patience would not liave been a subject of praise, nor his constancy a virtue. But his affliction arose not merely from the deprivation of temporal support, the pain of disease, or the loss of good for- tune : his sufferino-s were considered as a chastisement ; as the just and penal consequence of latent guilt, which, though it had escaped the knowledge of the world, could not be hid from the eye of the Almighty. His friends, whose errand was to con>fort him, and alleviate his distress, could not otherwise account for its acute- ness and severity. They knew not that 7iho?n the Lord lovcth he chasteneth, and scourgetk every son whom lie receiveth. This treatment of Job from his friends would afford an excellent lesson in almost every circumstance of human life : there are few conditions, indeed, to which some part of the Bible is not adapted, and yet there is no book which in the present day is read with more neo-lio^ence or inatten- tiou. To read without understanding is absurd. On the Conduct of Job. ]G3 absurd, to understand without reflection is useless, and to reflect without improve- ment is criminal. If the perusal of th^ ^vritings w.hicli God inspired does not make us wiser men, and better Christians, the fault is in our ourselves. Instances of almost every character and condition in human nature have been there didac^ tically written, and miraculously preserved; they have withstood the attacks of vio- lence, the rust of time, and the proud and stupid disdain of bigoted ignorance. And if we do not attend seriously and devoutly to the lessons the holy writings^ every where inculcate, and often instil almost insensibly, we are guiit}^ of the Avorst of negligence, of no less a crime than a contempt of the w'ord of God, an unwillingness to share his benefits, and a refusal to come to the lio-ht lest our deeds should he reproved. Various are the ways by which God invites us to instruction* The history of Job, to which I wish at present principally to fix your attention, is fraught alike with precept and amuse- ment, and if it did not form a part of M 2 that iG^ Oil the Conduct of Job. thai book, which is acknowledged ta come from God, and which contains the words of eternal life, would be read with avidity, and listened to with admira- tion. But so infatuated are the senses, so perverse the disposition, and so depraved is the nature of man, that its usefulness and sanctity are, perhaps, the only causes why it is neglected « Is then the subject uninteresting, because it is exalted ? Is the matter incomprehensible, because it is important? Is the language unintelli- gible, because it is sublime ? Are verity, sublimity, and excellence, no recommend- ations to attention ? Are they qualities so- very common as to excite no admiration ? ' Or are they found more frequently, or in greater perfection amidst the v/orks of fiction, and the pages of the novelist, than in the revelations of omnipotence, aiid the scriptures of truth ? No, most nien are afraid to dip into the sacred volume, because they know it will hold up a mirror in which they will discern their own deform it}^ lest conscience should whisper to them unpleasant truisms, and compel On the Conduct of Job. l65 compel them to turn their attention from frivolity and guilt, to seriousness, and a certain and fearful eternity. The history of Job is tiie more remark- able, because it records a character of excellence, which was long misunderstood. Patience is a virtue of slow growth, and of unpleasant cultivation. At the time of the existence of Job, it was considered rather as a mark of pusillanimity, than as a subject of praise, or as worthy of imitation. And though the patience of Job is become proverbial, and was cer- tainly more constant than most men of the present day would exercise, yet he often indulges complaint, utters loudly the cry of distress, and sighs for com- miseration. His merit consisted chiefly in refusing to charge God foolishly : his behaviour, though highly praise-worthy, must not scrupulously be imitated, as what was meritorious in him, who had no other guide but nature, or the glimmerings of light, which tiie fall of man had ob- scured, and almost annihilated, would by no means entitle those to commendation, M 5 . who 166 On the Conduct of Job, Avho possess knowledge and comforts, of * which he knew not the use, and which are afforded by Him who hath brought life and immortality to light, but on whom his confidence must have been faint, and unsteady his expectation. He hoped liis distress would have an end, he trusted in God, and relied on his mercy and protec- tion. But his spring of comfort had almost failed, he had not access to that well of zvater springing up unto eternal life. To the consolations of the Gospel he was a stranger : yet so great was his reliance on Divine Providence, that in his extreme distress he cried, the hand of God hath touched me. It was this confident assurance that he was in the hand of a merciful God, that kept him from despair, that buoyed up his soul amidst a sea of trouble, and enabled him to encounter the wiles of Satan, and the loss of every thing which is most anxiously cherished and most tenderly loved. It is this reliance on the Almighty that has ever proved most effectual to alleviate pain, remove distress, and On the Conduct of Job. I67 and Gombat persecution. It is this re- Ijiince on the Almighty that can alone support us in all cases of danger and difficulty. It is this only that can conduct us safely through the temptations of the AvorJd, and bring UvS to the haven zchere tee Zividd be. It is the knowledoe that God is every where present, that he counieth our steps, and spieth out all our paths, that should keep ns in the right path, and make us thankful that h,e does not piunisli lib instantly for crimes which we by word, by thought, or by deed, are perpetually committing against him. And let us not suppose, because we abstain from actual offences, that we can escape his all- searching eye, or his all-hcijiring.ear ; there is not a word in our tongue, nor an inclina- tion in our soul, hut He hioii:eth it altogether. To confine our wickedness to the njind, to pamper our thoughts with the remem- brance of vicious pleasure, or secret wish of impurity, is to the full as criminal, as to suffer appetite to break out into action, and well deserves the reproach of our Saviour, Ye are like niito zc^hited sepulchres, M 4 Tchich, 168 On the Conduct of Job. which, indeed, appeal- beautiful zmthouf, hut within are full of dead mens bones, and of all uncleanness. It has been said that the world cannot he known but by a change of fortune, the same may with equal truth be affirmed of the human heart. While fortune favours us, wliile all things succeed to our wish, and sometimes beyond our ex- pectation, to sustain the character of virtue and equanimity is not a matter of difficulty, nor is the merit great. Patience and sufferins fortitude are sometimes de- cried by men who have never had occasion to exercise these virtues ; and, on the contrary, vaunted by others whose situa- tion hi life renders them incapable of practising their performance, or of pro- perly understanding their Avorth. Such an accumulation of distress, as Job ex- perienced, is no less uncommon than the exercise of similar patience: convinced that the world must be conducted by the same divine power which so wonderfully created it, he never gave into those loose opinions which would teach us that the On the Conduct of Job. I69 the Almighty had abandoned his work, that we and all our affairs are iinchn- the dominion of tatalitv, or are effected and governed by chance. The peace of the world is, indeed, often disturbed by cir- cumstances of which we cannot compre- hend the source or utility, and may, per- haps, scetn ibrtuitous, and even injurious to the honour, and contrary to the will of Omnipotence: yet they all will ©ne day vindicate his power, and proclaim his justice, it will at last appear that they all proceed from the same continual stream of bounty, and have been necessary to assert the glory of God, and promote the happiness of his creatures. The persuasion of hol}^ Job that the hand of God had touched him, supported him in all his trials. He knew that what- ever deprivation of comfort he might sustain, whatever distress might befall him, still he was in the hands of a mercitul God, who had previously given him all things. Pie knevv^ tlie same hand had often before delivered him from dangers, which would otherwise have been inevit- ^ able. 170 On the Conduct of Job, able, of which the world had not thought* to which God alone was privy, and which, perhaps, himself had forgotten. To attribute our condition, our plea- sures or our pains to chance alone, is an absurdity to be equalled only by its im- piety. Our happiness and misery depend more on ourselves than we generally imagine. Temperance is almost always the parent of health, and virtue will en- sure us tranquillity, which, indeed, is sometimes disturbed by events which can- jiot be foreseen, and, therefore, cannot be prevented ; but these must not be re- garded as casual, but as the visitations of Him ri'ho turncth about the world by his counsels, and causeth them to come, whether for correction, or for his land, or for mercy. If affliction be a punishment, it is g, punishment we have deserved, if it be e^ ■^varning, it is a warning we all need, if it be a lesson, it is a lesson for which we should be thanlvful. We know from whom cometh every good, and every perfect gift ; ^nd when oppressed by affliction, may be equally sure, that nothing is ordered in vain, On the Conduct of Joh. 171 vain, that the hand of God hath touched us, of that Almighty Being whose pro- vidence conducts, Avhat his power at first created, zoho covcrcth the Heaven zmth clouds^ and prepareth rain for the earth, and maketh the g?'ass to grow upon the mountains, and Jierhfor the service of men. Who givcth fodder to all cattle, and feedeth the young ravens that call upon him, SERMON SERMON XI. ON PATRIOTISM*. 2 Sam. x. 12. Be ye of good courage, and let tts play the men for our people, and for the cities of our God, and the Lord do that which seemeth him good. When the Ammonites had invaded the Land of Promise, and had procured succours from their neighbours to dethrone David, and crush the house of Israel, the kin or sent out Joab with the most vahant of his people to fight and repel them. Joab seems to have been a man perfectly qualified for the trust reposed in him, and to have had a proper sense on his mind of the importance of his command, and an humble confidence in the infinite power and protection of tlie Almighty. He re- presented to his soldiers in his speech * .Fast Day, 1806. before 174 On Tat riot ism. before the battle, which was usual at that time, the necessity o^ a good coiiy(i€;c ; the reasons they had for supporting the cause, for which they were tlien drawn out, and for which many of them would probably lose their lives. The Ammonites had most grievously and wantonly insulted the ambassadors of David, and shewed, by reiterated marks of ill-usage and contempt, that they wished for an opportunity of attacking liim, and of driving him from his throne. The character of David is too well known, and his pious disposition and firm reliance on the providence of his Maker, are too fully and repeatedly demonstrated in the book of Psalms, to render it necessary for me to enlaroe on the humble confi- dence, the sure trust, and fervent piety of that holy monarch : I will only remark, that m all his troubles and afflictions, his private sorrows and public calamities, there never escaped him any expression that betrayed distrust of his God, or of bis want of power to relieve him ; all his speeches breathe the, hallowed strain of piety; On Patriotism. 175 piety ; and whatever was his fortune, God was his high tower and his deliverer, his shield, and him in whom lie did trust. And it is certain, that the more numerous were his enemies, the more disastrous his con- dition, and the more gloomy his prospects • — the closer did he cling to the hope of deliverance from his God, the stronger "H'as his faith, the more earnest was his prayer. It is not, however, my present intention to dwell on the character and conduct of the holy Psalmist : the text is part of the speech of Joab to his followers, to ad- monish them for what they were about to fight, and to exhort them to behave as men, who were true to their cause, and faithful to themselves, their country, and their God. JBe ye of good courage, and let us play the men for our people, and for the cities of our God, and the Lord do that which seemeth him good. The Israelites, at the time this speech was addressed to them, were truly a mili- tary people ; they had been compelled to fight for whatever they possessed ; they 3 were 176 On Vatriotism, were surrounded bj powerful and warlike neighbours, who viewed them with jea- lousy, and took every opportunity to harass and distiess them; and whatever they possessed had been obtained by the sword. A people so accustomed to war- fare were not, it may be supposed, much alarmed at threats of invasion, and were well prepared to rcp?l and defeat the designs of a national and open foe. This, however, is not our case; this country has not, within memory of the oldest inhabitant, known the evils which necessarily waste and distiess the seat of war: while other nations have drunk deep of the cup of trembling, we have been secure ; while disorder, plunder and rapine have made havock in other countries, we have heard the din of ar.archy from afar; we have risen and laid down in peace, we have reaped the fruits of our industry in quiet, while other nations have been over- whelmed in consternation and dismay. Thouo;h we shared in common with other countries in the dearth and scarcity which so lately prevailed in Europe, we reaped the On Patriotism. 177 the fruits of far distant countries ; and though many of us must have felt the hard pressure of poverty and scanty sea- sons, few, I trust, experienced the misery of absolute and urgent want. We have hitherto, by God's assistance, baffled the designs of our enemies, we have been viewed by surrounding nations with reve- rence and fear, and induced some of them, by an example of steady valour, to repel, though I confess ultimately without suc- cess, the daring efforts of an insulting foe. When other people have been menaced with tyranny, invasion, and rapine, they have looked up to this country as to the beacon of a troubled world, and sought in our exertions security and peace. Peace at length we sought. But peace did we find ? No ! Peace brought us nothing but insult and treachery. At the very time when we were employed in drawing up articles of peace, when we were purchasing, by the cession of hard- earned conquests, long wished-for peace and fancied security, our adversaries were planning schemes of insidious perfidy, or N open 178 On Patriotism, open war. We looked for peace, hut m good came, for a time of health, but behold trouble. I wish not to enter on the wide and thorny field of civil government: this is neither the time nor the place to treat of the plans of a ministry, or the politics of a slate: my only aim at present is, to convince you of your danger, your duty, and your hopes. Your danger, which unless opposed with steadiness and forti- tude, is alarming and inevitable: your diity, which is broad and clear : and your hopes, which, if built on a right founda- tion, will, I trust, be found just and sure. Few, who think at all, will hesitate to own that our condition is alarming, and our perils great. Our enemies are active and \varlike, their armies composed of veteransj, and their resources infinite : their sole aim is the subjugation of this country ; their whole force will be employed in this enterprise: to this is all their courage roused, to this are all their endeavours bent : if their design has been for some months deferred, it is far from being abandoned. On Patriotism. 179 abandoned. We are not now, as formerly, to contend for remote possessions, to ac- quire or defend a distant colony, or a commercial right. Our all, our country, our very existence as a nation is at stake. In former wars, we might fear the loss of a distant fortress, or of some island, which might produce wealth to individuals, or revenue to the state. We now contend for our own island, our native soil, our property, and home. Think not that I wish to aggravate misfortune, or exagge- rate the dangers which so nearly approach us; my only wish is, to impress upon your minds a lively picture of our situa- tion, and to throw off that sluggish apathy in which some of us are immersed. Many of us are rash enough still to think, that our enemies do not really design to invade us, or that if they do, their at- tempts will certainly be frustrated, and that on the onset they must meet with defeat : these men will be the first to de- spond in the hour of danger, and will shrink from battle as they did from thought. Others there are, who through N ^ a fond 180 Oh Patriotism. a fond persuasion of their own courage, and that of their countrymen, wish them to land, that they may experience the valour of Englishmen, and be convinced how futile were their hopes. But these surely do not consider the confusion, that even a small force, were they to effect a landing, would create, the horrible crimes they would commit, the disorder they would introduce, the carnage that would ensue. There may be some, but I trust they are very few, and am not sure that there are any, that care not which way the scale turns ; they may think that they "would live as comfortably under another government, as under this; that the only dijfference would be, that they would then pay taxes to a foreigner, instead of their anointed king. But these people, if any there be, grossh^ deceive themselves; they know not the practice of these invaders, they cannot have heard, or cannot have believed, the oppression, cruelty, and exactions, which they liave exercised in every country that has submitted to their yoke : wherever they have spread their banners. On Patriotism. 181 banners, there have always followed havoc, rapine, and unbridled lust; and there is no country through which their armies have passed, but has drunk deep of the cup of trembling, and fallen an inglorious prey to rapacity and spoil. Alliance has not been less ruinous than hostility. Look at any nation which has been compelled to receive them as guardians, or hail therr^ as friends. Look at Holland, look at Switzerland, look at any other land, in ■which they have been saluted as brethren, or admitted as allies. They have all suffered the extremity of slavery, have felt the full weight of a tyrant's, a foreign master's yoke, and have been compelled to provide, and purchase tlie thongs Avith which thej^have themselves been scourged. These, and worse than these, are the evils with which we are now menaced ; for it is certain, that no people arc hated by them with so much rancour, for none have opposed them with so much success; none have been so true to their cause, none have fought so bravely, none have iield out so long. Every calamity which N 3 can 182 On Patriotism. can befall a conquered people, if the threats of our enemies are carried into execution, and their attempts succeed, will fall on this nation with its utmost weight ; every insult that cruelty can per- petrate, or triumphant malignity devise, will be offered to this hitherto happy country, and must be most keenly felt. What instigates them to invasion ? What is their niotive to attempt descent ? The hope of plunder. The expectation of revenge. Revenge, which has long been rankling, and which can be satiated but by our defeat. In such a situation, is it necessary to enquire what is our duty ? What the line of conduct we ought to pursue.'* There are implanted in the mind of every man certain instinctive affections, which grow up with our frame, and leave us but with our existence. Among these Patriotism holds a high rank : this generous principle is diffused through the whole human race. There is no nation so bar-, barous, no country so savage, »o people so mean and poor, as not to entertaia sentiments On Patriotism, 183 sentiments of love and affection for their native soil, even to countries where it would seem nature had denied every com- fort, and those governments are most tyrannical, we have seen the inhabitants attaclied, and ready to fight and die in defence of their country and home. How strong then should this spirit be in us, whose country is rich and powerful, who enjoy every comfort that civilized man can possess or desire, whose government is most mild, whose religion is most pure, whose constitution is the pride of its own people, and the admiration of the world ! If a man will not submit to temporary inconvenience, and the chance of battle, and of death, in defence of all that is dear and near to him, for the protection of those who cannot protect themselves, in whose society he has passed all his joyous, all his happy days, he is not worthy to enjoy domestic comfort, and is in heart a slave. There is not, perhaps, a man among us, who has not some one who looks up to him for support, for safety, for defence. Some have parents, ■^ 4i by 184 On Patriotism. by whose care and fond solicitude during the helpless period of infancy they have been nurtured and kept from harm. Others have wives and children, who constitute their happiness, and whose welfare they prize, or ought to prize, as dearly as their own. Can any one look in the faces of his little ones, where he reads nought but innocence and filial love, and pot feel his spirit burn within him, and his soul roused to their protection and support ? But there are other and equally cogent arguments to incite us to act with alacrity and zeal. We have not o\\\y to play the 7nen for our people^ hwt for the cities of our God. Never had any nation more reason to be grateful to Providence than our- selves, nor had we ever greater need of his immediate and signal help. In nq country Avas religion ever possessed in greater purity, and, I trust I riiay add, taught with greater zeal. We have had every spiritual comfort we could wish, and much more than we deserve. Our ancestors suffered much to establish this, purity in our religioq, and frequently defended On Tairiotism, 185 defended it at the expence of life. Let it not be said that we are negligent of our salvation, and are departing away from our God, Let us convince our enemies, who seem to suppose that we are mean enough to crouch to theii' tyranny, and be ranked among their slaves : let us convince them, that we are actuated by the manly spirit of our forefathers, which has so oi'tcn repelled attacks, chastised their violence, and defied their power. That we still feel within us those inbred sentiments, wiiich are the truest guardians of our liberty, the faithful and active monitors of all that is generous and free, and liberal in man : that we will preserve to our latest breath those holy institutions, those char- tered rights, which are the dearest in- heritance of our ancestors, in the esta- blishment of which they cheerfully en^ dured every hardship, and for which many of them suffered the pains of exile, and of death. We are now obliged to stand up in defence of every thing that piety holds most sacred, that freemen hold most dear. We are called upon by Q\cvy prin- ciple 186 On Fatriotism, ciple of duty to adhere to and protect our families, our country, our sovereign, and the cities of our God. What we owe to our families, our own liearts will be the most ready prompters ; we surely owe to our king and country the support of our persons and property ; and we must well perceive, that, whatever exertions we may use for our country, whatever sacrifices we may now make for its defence and preservation, will be ultimately heaped upon ourselves, and will at length procure for us prosperity and peace. At the present moment it is doubtless our plain and urgent duty to unite with heart and hand to strengthen the lawful authority of government, and assist with dispatch and energy the measures it is compelled to use, in order to repel a formidable and insulting foe. If we keep these objects steadily in view, if we uniformly act as honest men, and good Christians, we may indeed look up with confidence and hope. Thank God, we are not yet bereft of hope, nor can we be, while we know we are On Patriotism, Iff are in the hands of a merciful Providence, This trust in the Almighty protection must be our anchor of the soul both sure and stedfast. However great may be our exer- tions, without Him we can do nothing: and, God be praised, we have great reason to hope, that, if our efforts are vigorous, our hearts sincere, and our trust in the Ahnighty firm. He will protect us now, as He has ever done, and our hearts shall have cause to rejoice and overflow with gratitude to Him, who has in repeated and signal instances preserved this country from desolation and distress. We are none of us, I trust, so senseless as to imagine that God is careless of his crea- tures, and watches not over the children of men. We are taught, and we must believe, if we are Christians, that the hairs of our head are all numbered, that itot a sparrow falls to the ground, without the immediate direction or permission of our Almighty Father: how much more are we bound to trust in his favour, and confide in his love : we are of more value than many sparrows. Let us not be scared at 188 On Tafrwthm. at the liitiierto good fortune of oiir ene- mies, their numbers, or their might : we know tliat the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong: that whatever be our dangers, the Almighty can deliver us out of all ; and we may surely cherish the hope, that our earnest petitions will bring duwn a blessing on our exer- tions, and that God uill bless us, and with hi$ favour compass us, as with a shield. We are engaged in a righteous cause, in a war of just defence, tor the support of our laws, our property, and our reli- gion. Our enemies are lawless invaders, whose cruelty and crimes will never be washed from the memory, or tradition of men. They have sworn the subjugation of our nation; their aim is plunder, their •means destruction, their resources wrung from the hands of the poor, miserable, pillaged couTitries, which have yielded to their arms. We fight /or our own people, and the cities of our God. Tiiey overturn every thing sacred and honourable. Our prayers are offered up to Heaven for pro- tection, and we humbly implore the as- sistance On Patriotism, igj distance of Flim, who is able to save and defend us, for vain is the help of man. While their religious assemblies resound with blasphemous adulation to their im- perious tyrant : ours, we trust, are filled with devoiit petitions to our Saviour, that he would defend our country, our altars, and tlie pure profession of our holy faith. But let us not deceive ourselves, nor trust in any merit of our own, or that we have any claim to expect that the scourge that has visited other nations, should not fall upon ourselves. Suppose ye that they were sinners above all Europeans, because they suffered such things? I tell you., Nay, but except ye repent, except your principles be pure, except your practice accord with the professions ye have made this day in jour religious assemblies, ye shall all like^ wise perish : ye shall be engulphed in as hopeless miser}^ as those nations, of whose consternation and overthrow jq have heard : and whose fate ye shall fare, unless ye turn from your evil ways, unless yQ strive in some sort to deserve the title, as ye have long unthankfully experienced the 190 0?i Patriotism, the benefits of the peculiar favourites of* Heaven : for such certainly must be those who have been exempted from miseries, which have pervaded almost every other nation on the globe ; such certainly must be those, who have so long, and so suc^ cessfully, withstood the attacks of enemies^ whose armies have triumphed over a prouder foe : who hstve so lately trampled over ensigns, which were consecrated by the respect of ages : whose moderation tas been affectedly admired, while they were sweeping from the earth authorities, formidable to every other people, and Tendered sacred by time; whose glory ^ad been till now untarnished, whose dominions were fixed and extensive, whose power was equal, and whose rank was coeval, and superior to our own. The surest ground of hope is sober re- flection, and sweet is that reflection, which is not mingled with remorse. A proper view of our past conduct and future in- tentions will best discover our real situa- tion. It is not an overweening confidence, it la not refusal of thought, or rejection ? of On Patriotism, 191 of alarm, that will effect our security, diminisb our danger, or stave off our fear. It is a scrutiny of ourselves, it is a proper reliance on our Saviour, it is the united exertion of piet}^ and vigour, that can alone deliver us. It is not a comparison of our local advantagjes with those of other states ; but a comparison of what we have, and might have, done ; of what we are, and ought to be, that can at all avail us now. Though our religion has been professed, perhaps, in greater purity, have our crimes been less ? Have we been thankful for the many peculiar blessings we have enjoyed, and owned with heartfelt gratitude } that the bounty of our heavenly Father is infinite, and undeserved ? Or have we considered his blessings as indifferent, or as things of course ? If this be the case, if we have stupidly slighted the blessings of Heaven, or unthankfully received them: our threatened punishment must be con- fessed to be well merited, and our correc- tion just. I am unwilling to press this matter too close, lest we sink into des- pondency. We know we have all of- fended. 192 0)1 Patriotism, fended, have all deserved the severity of God's wrath. Let us, therefore, most humbly implore pardon for our offences, and by hearty repentance of what is past, render ourselves more deserving of future blessings ; so shall we face danger with greater bravery, and go forward to meet our national enemy, in the sure confidence, that if we fall, we fall in a good cause, respected by our country, and at peace with our God. SEHMON SERMON XII. ON PERVERSENESS. St. Luke xvi. 31. If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead. It will be at once perceived that these words are the conclusion of a most im- pressive and interesting parable, delivered by our Saviour to his disciples : in which he points out to them the certainty and justice of future rewards and punishments, and warns them in the most urgent manner to take heed lest they also come into a place of future torment. It is not my intention to enter fully into the circumstances Oi the parable, or detain you with a laboured explanation of it ; the parable itself, and o its 194 On Verve rseness, its application^ must be familiar to tlie recollcclion of every one who lieais me : I am only solicitous, at present, to call your attention to the verse more imme- diately under review. If they hear not Aloses and the Frophets, neither will they he persuaded though one romfrom the dead. Never had any people more reason to believe and obey the great Creator of the universe, than those to whom this parable was addressed ; never was there a time vvhen they had greater reason to expect their 4oiig--hoped for Messiah : but never vrere they, perhaps, moi-e unfit to receive the doctrines he taught, or to credit the character he assumed. Every doctrine of their religion, every precept of their law, every object which presented itself to the eyes of this people, forcibly recalled to their minds the wonderful instances of the favour and protection of God, of his prophecies, and promises of future bless- sings. It was their greatest pride that they were confessedly the favoured people of God, and though for their multiplied crimes and horrid impieties, he had re~ peatcdly On Perverseneis. 195 peat^dly withdrawn his assistance; yet he never left them without assurance of his protection and paternal care. It may not be uninteresting, or unin^ structive, to enquire, why this people, who all, at this time, anxiously expected their Messiah, whose advent was foretold by prophecies most plain, and which too they regarded as sacred and authentic ; why they rejected, and contemned him, after the many astonishing miracles he wrought in proof of his divine mission, and the unanswerable evidence, that he was indeed the Son of God. His whole conversation tended to instruct them, to ameliorate and soften their dispositions, to incite them to deeds of beneficence and love: his conduct and habits of life were such as to impress every one, who knew him, M^ith sentiments of reverence for his cha- racter, and affection for his peison : all his discourses were directed to promote peace and good- will to men, and whatever transactions he had with others were al- ways intended for th^^ir good, and con- 9. stantly 196 On Ferveraeness. stantlj produced it. Why then, why did they reluse to believe hirn ? Becau^ie his precepts were opposite to their prejudices ; because they did not undcTstand the doctrines he taught ; be- cause tlicy were dissonant to those lofty expectations, which they had vainly con- ceived of their nation, and of their own worth: ; because he preached to them the insuUiciency of animal sacrifices, and the rites of the temple worshi[); and demanded from them, not the firstlings of their Hocks, nor the payment of mint and cummim, but the pure and simple offer- ing's of o;enuine devotion and a contrite heart. The Jew^s affirmed, and most of them believed, that they obeyed the laws of Moses with sincerity, and observed with great strictness the ordinances of their lawgiver. Tliey did, indeed, observe with scrupulous exactness the ceremonial part of their religion, but were utter strangers to true piety. Their law was given to separate them from all other nations, and their ceremonies ordained and On Ferverseness. 197 and defined, that tliey sliould not mix with the worshij) of the true God the idolatrous rites of the nations by whom they Avere surrounded. 'I'he ceremonies established by God himseif, tiiey, it must be owned, rehgiously observed, and from the time of the Babylonish captivity to the advent of Christ kept them all pure and unviolated. But these ceremonies alone were never meant to constitute tlie whole, or the greater part of religious worship; the seat of religion is the heart, it is there that piety resides, and influences the opinions and the conduct of men. Most of the Jewish ceremonies Avere merely types of future blessings, the sacri- Jices that were offered year bij year con- tinually could not ??iake the comers thereunto perfect : they were, indeed, necessary to keep alive in the hearts of the people, the necessity of an atonement for their crimes, but could never of themselves procuie the salvation, or expiate the sins of their offerers. The same prophets who exhorted them to preserve the law of Moses whole and o 3 without 198 On Perverseness. without variation, also preached most earnestly the necessity of a good and pious life. But their exliortatiuns to piet^' and godluiess of life were not, it seems, so well received, or so generally kept as the ceremonies they enjoined. They were opposite to the pride and self-righteousrf ness, which were the prominent features of the Jewish character: for this people, it appears, would rather be subject to a perpetual round of rites, thau be at the pains of purifying their minds ; they had the most convincing proofs, thijt the men who exhorted them to holiness, were teachers sent from God, and were well assured that their doctrine was holy, just, and true, but these humble means of obtaining the favour of God were too grating to their stubborn dispositions ; and whatever evidence a prophet might exhibit, that he was commissioned by the Almighty to instruct, to reform, and to save them, yet if he contradicted theip vicious propensities, or required a renewal of heart, and genuine repentance, he was fit once deserted and despised, Moses and On Pe/'verseness. 199 and the prophets had done every thing that persuasion, punishment, and exhorta- tion, could do, to turn them from their evil ways, and lead them into tlie paths of piety and virtue: they had confirmed their authority and doctrine b\^ the most astonishing display of divine p{>\ver and assistance, but their precepts, svhh regard to morality and virtue, were disregarded and unheard. The rich man in the parable is not accused of any violation of the law, or of his religion as professed by the Jews ; he was, probably, strictly observant of the traditions of his fathers, and was esteemed, perhaps, among his cotemporaries, a wor- thy and good man ; but wliatever might have been his outward behaviour, his observance of the forms of wojship, he was miserably deficient in the essentials of religion: liis heart did not glow with to o that charity and love of Ins neighbour which is the lile and soul of all religion ; which was warmiy mculcated by the law he professed to observe, and which has been since still more stiougly enforced in the Gospel. o 4 Neither 200 On Perverseness. Neither was he absolutely destitute of natural affection, for though he could behold the wretched Lazarus at his gate hungry and full of sores, without pity, or a wish to relieve him, probably because such sights were faniiliar to him, yet he ■was solicitous that his brethren should be exhorted to a good and holy life, by argu- ments more convincing, than those, to which he had refused to listen, and be- sought xVbraham to send a messenger from the dead, to preach to them of their evil ways, that they might be converted and ]ive. But Abraham told him they had every inducement to virtue, that uian could receive, or God would olier ; ihey have Moses and the Prophets, let them hear thnn, if they hear not Moses and the pro- phets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. If we turn our eyes from the state of the Jews to other nations, from the times of our Saviour to our own, we shall readily perceive the justice of Abraham's remark, and have occasion to lament most feel- ingly, that we are as criminal, if not more sps Oil Perverscness. 201 so, than the Jews themselves. We have all the inducements to believe and obey the ordinances of God, which were offered to them, and a much more eloquent preacher than Moses, or the prophets, to warn us of our danger, and assure us upon our repentance of pardon and peace. We have been bought and redeemed from sin and misery, if vvc will accept so great salvation, by the death and sufferings of the Son of God. We have not to wade through an useless round of ceremonial observances, but have only to keep our- selves pure and pious ; and are assured that through the merits of Jesus Christ, and through faith in his blood, our sins will be foro'iven us, and we shall be re- ceived into those mansions of eternal happiness which Christ has purchased for us. We are all ready enough to condemn the Jcvv's for rejecting their Messiah, and for refusing to believe and obey the doc- tiines he taught, and the precepts he en- joined ; we consider them as bigotted, perverse, and obstinate, as deafened by prejudice, and blinded by sin ; but seldom compare 205 On Perverscness. compare their opinions and practice with our own ; we think them most criminal in rejecting the oiBfers ot" redemption, in their attacliment to the traditions of men, rather than the commands of their God ; we think them most perverse, in refusing to credit the divine mission of our Saviour, though he had done .so niauif miracles before them; and most guilty and cruel, in caus- ing him to suffer a shameful and agonising death. Upon consideration it will, per- haps, be found, that we ourselves are not entirely free from any of their crimes. Those who reject the Gospel, or those who refuse to regulate their lives by the precepts il prescribes, are surely as cri- minal as those who would not hear Moses and the Prophets : for we in tiiese later ages have still more ample testimony of the truth of the Holy Scriptures, more ready means of instruction, and a iuller completion of the prophecies, to assure us of their authenticity, and confirm us in the faith. To convince us of the cer- tainty of a future judgment, and a resur- rection to come, One has risen from the dead ; On Ferverseness. 203 «jead ; has given the strongest possible proof that our souls and boriies siiail re- unite, and reap the fruits of our laitii and righteousness, or suffer the penalties we liave deserved. No other exhortati(m can be ^expected, for none more forcible can be offered : no farther proof will be added, for none more convincing can be adduced. In compassion to the weakness of man, and even in condescension to his preju- dices, God Incarnate explained his own ],aws; and by a voluntary humiliation, bore our sins lor us, and redeemed us from the necessary consequences of a corrupt and sinful nature. If then there be any who kIU not he persuaded though one rose from the dead, if they will reject the most pressing assur- ances of the divine nature and doctrine of our Saviour : what punishment, think you, they deserve? What w'ill they re- ceive ? Vic are assured that the regards and punishments of the next vrorld will be infinite and endless ; how great then is the necessity of securina the one, and of ^verting the other. But these punishments are 204 On Fciverseness. are not denounced on those only, wlio obstinately refuse to believe the divine mission of Clirist, who impiously des})ise his counsels, and set at nought his com- mands ; but on those also, who profess to believe every truth of our hoiy religion, but whose lives and practice are contrary to their profession. It would seem in- credible, were there not instances of it most glaring and frequent, tliat any one, who sincerely believes the Gospel, should be guilty of sins which it expressly forbids, and on the indulgence of which it pro- nounces most severe and endless punish- ment. But so fascinating is vice, so strong our passions, or so weak our faith, that though men profess, and, perhaps too, persuade themselves, that their belief in the Gospel is steady and sincere ; they do not suffer themselves to be at all influenced by the motives to piety which it so strongly holds up. Too many of us suppose, if we be not guilty of any flagrant crime, or are the slaves of vicious habits, that all is well, and that God expects, and can fairly claim On Perversencss. 205 claim no more ; they are too apt to say within themselves, " Whom have I in- "jured? Of what have I been guilty? *' JVhose o.v have I stolen ? Or zchom have I *' defrauded? My life is regular, and my " morals pure, why then ma}' 1 not expect " reward, why not claim the blessings " reserved for the righteous ?" The answer is obvious. How have you deserved them ? If you arc a sincere Christian, you must confess them to have been purchased by the death and merits of Jesus Christ. Have you been his faithful servant? Have you been at all times thankful for your re- demption, and delighted to think of his love ? Have you always made his service your pride and pleasure, and never, through fear of reproach or ridicule, hesitated to confess his power, and reverence his name? Amidst all your transactions with the world, nay, even amidst your devotional exercises, have you Jiever suffered worldly thoughts to intrude, and take off your affections from your Saviour and your God ? No, not one among us w ill be so rash and daring, however virtuous may have 206 On Perverseness. have been his life, however chaste hi^ principles, no one dares declare that he deserves eternal recompence; happy shall we be if we escape eternal punishment ! The lives of the most innocent among us, were they weighed in the scales of truth and rigid justice, would be found sinful and corrupt ; and it is only by the free grace of God, and through the merits of Jesus Christ, that we can hope for pardon of the many sins, which however we may now conceal from the world, and even from ourselves, would, if divine justice were not tempered with a Redeemer's Jove, be sufficient to drag us down to endless misery and deserved disgrace. But thanks be to God, his justice is tempered with mercy, and we have full assurance that if our endeavours after purity be hearty, if our faith in Christ be steady and sincere, our sins will be blotted out by Him who has risen from the dead, and who invites every repentant sinner to return tmto the Lord, and he mil have mercij upon him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon. SERMON 2 SERMON XIII. ON THE PROPvVGATION OF THE GOSPEL. Acts xlx. 20. So mightilif grew the uord of God and prevailed, X HIS reniark naturally flowed from the pen of the sacred writer, while he was recording the amazing increase and eager reception of that religion, whose founder had been so recently executed, wdiose votaries had been dispersed, and whose very name was supposed to have been crushed and annihilated. Independent of the proofs of our religion which are afforded by the completion of the pro- phecies relating to the birth, person, and character of the ]\Iessiah ; independent of the wonderful mnacles and holiness of our Lord him^^elf, sufHcient evidence of its truth and divine authority may be collected 208 Oil the Propagatioji of the Gospel, collected from its success and prevalence : and few arguments can be adduced more strong and convincino; than those which arc drawn from its early growth and rapid propagation. For although we must ever be careful to distinguish successful error from simple truth, although prosperity can never justify deceit, nor success sanc- tify imposture, yet the circumstances which attended the publication and pro- cress of Christianity, are so singular and remarkable, that no one, who considers them with candour and attention, will scruple to own, that its preachers were incited and supported by authority from Heaven ; that no man, or set of men, could have overcome the obstacles by which the apostles were opposed, unless the Almighty had protected their cause, unless the Lord had worked with them^ and confirmed the word with signs following. It must be confessed, that the common, or universal prevalence of any sect or opinion, though a strong argument in its favour, is not of itself sufficient to esta- blish its truth. The aifairs of this world are On the Propagation of the Gospel. 209 are so conducted, that the most vicious men often enjoy the best fortune, and the most extravagant tenets oiten receive most support from a depraved and corrupted community. We are naturally inclined to credit that which promises much, and lias been proved to have been successful. Pleasure, interest, and ambition, arc powerful advocates ; and when they unite to teach any doctrine adorned by novelty, and adapted to the common piopensities of nature, it is no wonder that men arc pei'suaded to follow that which is so well reccuii mended. But the Gospel had no sucli sup{)ort, all the power, all the learn- ing, the prejudices, the interest, tiie in- clinations of mankind were adverse to its cause, and emplo^-ed in its e:\tirpation; its preachers were illiteiate. poor, and every wheie despised, its doctrines were opposite to the passions, the received inaKnns, and the dispositions of men; its j)rinciples were vilified as a new and per- nicious superstition, as destructive of social order and established law. and its votai'ies ^s tjeditious, disaiiected to legal govern- p ment. 210 On the Tropogation of the Gospeh itient, disturbers alike of private happiness and the public peace. The account of the first preaching of Christianity after the ascension of our Saviour as given ia the Acts of the Apos- tles, is so simple, so clear, and every way convincing of the truth of their cause, and the sanctity of their characters, that it at once commands our attention by its importance, and charms by its simplicity. The sacred writer has given us a brief and plain account of the early progress and reception of our religion, and though thQ matter be complex, and the events various and multiplied, the story is neither crowded by circumstantial and redundant detail, 3U)r weakened by an abridged and hurried relation. He sets forth in true and glowing colours the perverscness of the Jew, and the ignorance of the Gentile, he clearly discovers to us that Christianity had to Avade through difficulties, which could neither be surmounted by patience, nor overcome by human ability : besides the- obstacles which were raised by the vices* and corruption of the worlds it had to subdue On the Propagation of tJie Gospel 211 ' subdue scorn, and awaken indilTeience, till at length penetiating the mists of prejudice a!id error, it wanned the hearts of the sensible, and ilJuniined the under- 'standino; of the learned. The cause of the Gospel had no fortu- nate events to further its propagation, no adventitious aids to support its truth. Jt made its way by its own intrinsic excel- lence, through the most powerful opposi- tion which the craft and authority of man could devise or execute, or the gates of Hell advance. It was only requisite that it should be understood to be beheved, and when believed, it was found to be an inexhaustible spring of comfort in every change of fortune, and the most pressing exigencies of distress. For three centuries after its publication, it was uniformly followed by affliction, the early Christianrj were marked objects of oblo(|uy, and were ever regarded with detestation and contempt; they rested their cause on cir- cumstances which appeared absurd and unnatural ; and their virtues liad nothing of that dazzling brillianc}^ wliich captivates p 2 tUe 212 On the Fropagalion of the Gospel. the senses of the inuUitude, and which so often irresistibly commands respect. The Gospel not only did not excite men to tlie perpetration of actions which Avere universally considered as great and illus- trious, but condemned them : it repelled the proudest boast of the Pagan, and chastised that loftiness of spirit, that ad- mired and fjcry ariogance which has ofteit raised the hero through scenes of sur- rounding calamity, and which is built on the domination and the misery of man. It resisted all sentiments and aims of superiority over beings who have been created by the same Lord, whose souls have been ransomed from endless misery by the same Redeemer, and been bought at the same price. It rejected all pre- eminence but that of virtue, its mild and charitable spirit was far from teaching that revenge could ever be considered as a ground of conunendation, or cruelty as the parent of iCiiOwn. Tlie (qualities and sentiments required of a sincere Christian are diametrically opposite to the virtues Uiost comaicnded by the ancients, and if we On the Tvopngatlon of the Gospel. 213 we may judge by tlie general subjects of applause, most congenial to the human heart. Intrepidity, implacable resent- ment, vindictive and ferocious hatred, arc among the virtues most celebrated by the best authors of antiquity, and which even now frequently inspire esteem, when cha- racters wliicii have been produced by them are listened to in narration, or re- presented in our siglit. Toil and unre- mitted perseverance in the pursuit of a criminal passion, or danger in the acquisf- tion of wealth, almost always excite senti- ments of praise even from those who profess themselves the disciples of him, Avho was meek and lowlv, and who tauo;ht that gentleness, patience, and forgiveness, are the genuine offspring of liis religion, and the brightest gems in the Christian's crown. In the interval between the crucifixion of our Lord, and the day of Pentecost, the disciples sliewed no indications of that resolution, zeal, and undaunted fortitude, which distino-uished their characters dur- ing their subsequent preaching and dis- p 3 tress. 214 On the Vropagation of the Gospel. tress. They all seem to have been of a meek anxl simple temper, and the most unlikely of all men to have entered into a combination to deceive. Their personal courage v.as questionable, even St. Peter, who Vvas alv^ays most forward in the cause of Christ, felt such alarm at being dis- covered as his companion and pretended accomplice, that the question of a servant maid induced him to disov.n that holy and beneficent master whoni he had promised he would die with, rather than deiiy. And after the resurrection of our Saviour, when, it might have been supposed, their spirits would be enlivened, and their hopes animated by his promised return to life ; when cruelty had exhausted its power, wdien in proof of the divinity of our Lord, the giave had abandoned its vic- tor}', and death been deprived of its sting. Even at this glorious evidence of the authority and divine character of Christ, the disciples were still alarmed, and r/.s- semhled in secret. The change, which w^as exhibited in their minds and conduct afterwards, must then have been effected by On the Propagation of the Gospel. 215 by a supernatural power, by means as mighty, as they were extraordinary. For no one by the mere force of reason, by a sudden effort of courage or resolution, or by any of tlie powers cf the mind, no one has ever beon known to drive away, or overcome, the apprehension of death and torture, and so soon evince fortitude ^vhich surpassed the powers or the imagi- nation of man. To pursue a line of con- duct which would certainly lead to dis- grace and misery, without any expectation of reward, or assurance of protection, argues the wildest insanity ; a single at- tempt of this nature, without any ack- nowledged or visible inducement, would have warranted the conclusion of the Jews at the day of Pentecost, that the Apostles were all of them bereft of their senses, or •were /'w// of new wine. For a long time previous to the advent of Christ, the power of miracles had ceased, and the voice of prophecy had been dumb. From the death of Malachi to the appearance of the -angel Gabriel to Zacharias, the favoured people of God p -i . had '2l6 On the Fropagafion of the Gospel. had waited in awful and anxious expecta- tion for tiie acconiplisliment of the pro- phecies, which nere i)ig with their future fate, and v.iiich all arkiiovvledged to be divine. None had been blessed or oratified with any extraordinary comniunicalion iVoni the Almi^lity. Tiie miracles of our Saviour, therefoic, and his apostles, must Jiave been most striking, and b}^ frequency could liave lost none of their weight. Their nature, their circumstances, and tendency, were suthcient to have con- vinced any whose hearts were not callous to every persuasion or argument, which the mind of man can feel, or the Almighty lias ever vouchsafed to apply. So con- vineino', so beneficent, and extraordinary, were the miracles which were wrought by our Saviour, that the most wary and con- firmed hostility, the most vigilant circum- spection could neither deny their efficacy nor their truth. His opposos, therefore, and iliesc consisted of the wisest and most respected of the Jewish jieopie, were com- j^clled to attack the power i}y which tiiey were aifccted ; and, by a most impious, as well On the Propagation of the Gospel. 217 well as absurd accusation, affirmed that the most strikino' miracles, \he most trans- cendant instances of the power and mercy of God were wrought by the Piince of Darkness: those stupendous acts of good- ness by which disease was chaccd from the couch of the impotent, by which Satan was de[)rived of his power, and Death of his prey. This wretched subteifuge of attributing to an evil being the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit, was employed by the enemies of our faith to defeat the influence, and impair tlic credit of the miracles, whicli the apostles were enabled to perform by the power and in the name of Christ, as it had been before against those, which were wrought by his own Al might}^ word. There is little need of argument or con- sideration to shew or perceive, that the miracles which the apostles were enabled to execute, were benevolent in their ten- denc}', and in their nature divine: they sufficiently establisiied their character, and iriefragably confirmed the assertion, that their comuiission and authority proceeded from 218 On the Tropagation of the Gospel. from Haaven, and that they were done in demonstralion of the spirit and power of God, Their miracles, tliough sometimes momen- tarily effected, were at all times open to examination, and permanently felt : they consisted not in a sudden and transitory effect on the senses, hut extended to the perfect cure of complaints of long stand- ing, restored the form of the distorted, and healed the infirmity of the sick: they cured diseases which were coeval with the birth of the patient, they caused the lame to walk, the deaf to hear, and the blind to see. They required no force of fancy to make them believed, no favourable circumstance, no happy coincidence, to render them effectual, or to forward their Success. The astonishino; effects of the name of Jesus of Nazareth are without parallel in history, and exceed the imagi- nation as much as they surpass the ability of man. They were not confined to the restoration of health from disease, or from bodily or natural infirmit}^ the \G\y ele- meuts confessed the authority of their Maker, On the Propagation of the Gospel . 21^ Maker, and submitted to tlie power of their God. Among the miracles which formed the evidence of the truth of Christianity in the early pciiods of its publication, we must not pass over the amazing ibrtilude and supernatural patience which an in- jiumerable muhitude of martyrs displayed in the midst of suiferings that the most refined malice could invent, and which wearied the cruelty of those who felt a ])ride in searching out and applying new ij]struments of torture, in exciting more acute sensibility of anguish, and a larger variety of pain. Unassisted humanity could not haveendurcdsuchagoniesamidst the insults and mockery of enemies, but must have unavoidably sunk under the pressure, and have giadly caught at any means of deliverance, es])ecially when deliverance might often, if not always, have been obtained by a slight mental reservation, or a seeming compliance with visages, which many of them had them- selves been brought up to reverence, and which would have procured not only im- mediate 220 On the Tropagaiion of the GospeL tnediate rescue from death and torture, but the support of the magistrate, the favour of the powerful, and the approba- tion of the crowd. We do, indeed, read, and are convinced of instances of fortitude and intrepidity, that have attended the deaths of savages, that excite the wonder of the civilized, and the admiration of the brave. The orio-inal inhabitants of o the other hemisphere have been known to xlisplay such stubborn patience, and in- vincible constancy under tortures, which, probably, equal those under Avhich the martyrs expired, that a consideration of "them may, perhaps, tend to weaken the impression, that the relation of the deaths of these holy men would otherwise make, and may seem to overthrow the assertion, that the early Christians could not have displayed such constancy, unless they had been supported by the interposition and the power of God. But this objection will disappear when we bear in mind the different circumstances and feelings under which the savage expires in America, and those that led to and accompanied the Christianas On the Fropagatioji of the Gospel, 221 Christian's death. The former is employed to the last in contending with his enemies, and glories as much in cndurino; torments with constancy, as their revenge is gratified by inflicting them. The martyrdom of the primitive Christians was attended with every addition of disgrace and insult, their sufierings were heightened by mockery, their patience regarded as pusillanimity, their names were classed with those of the vilest malefactors, and if remembered were tlie objects of scorn. A more permanent, if not a stronger, operative cause of the rapid progress which attended the preaching of the Gos- pel, may be traced to the purity of the manners of the early Christians, and the innocence of their lives. It v/as contrary to sense and experience that men should endeavour to propagate imposture by means which could raise them to no earthly eminence, which did not elevate their character, nor promise them renown. Their virtues were not of a glittering- nature, they broke not out in sudden temporary gleaaas, but shone with steady lustre. 222 On the Propagation of the Gospel. lustre, as well amidst the gloom of distress, as the admiration of the multitude, or in the performance of a miracle. So irre- sistible is the force of truth, so clear and convincing is the uniform, yet not osten- tatious, exhibition of virtue, that the enemies of Christianity could not with- liold admiration, and were prompted to investigate the cause of that chano^e of ha])it and opinion so opposite to. their mode of education, or the usages of the world. The prominent features of their conduct and character did not betray the appearance of guilt. Their actions could not be imputed to improper motives. To what could they attribute their meekness, their indifference to personal advantage, but to the little value they set on this world, and their disregard to things tem- poral in comparison to things eternal ? How could they otherwise account for that charity and universal benevolence which characterized their words and ac- tions, but to a constant attention to the precepts, and a strict observance of the example of him who died for ally that thei/ which On the Propagation of the Gospel. ^23 which live should not henceforth live for them- selves^ hut unto him which died for them. h\ searching after the spruigs and motives of the conduct of the early Ciinstians, i^ was soon discovered that tliough their portion was distress and persecution in this world, they were not without comfort; nor were their lives passed in perpetual mortification : it was soon perceived, that religion afforded joys, to which the proud and faithless must ever be strangers, that enjoyment consisted not in the indulgence of passion, in th^ riot of sensuality, or in luxurious ease. The heart of the sincere Christian was ever calm and ur.ruffled, was often the seat of the purest delight, and never the abode of mental misery and pain. It contained a treasure zi^hicli neither moth nor rust could corrupt, and through which no thieves could break nor steal. Tlie happiness of the gayest is faint, and aims of the most ambitious are mean, compared 'with the hopes of him whose prospects are immortal, whose wishes are built on the promises of his Saviour, and whose life is regulated by the law of his God. During 224 On the Propagation of the Gospels During the persecution which the early disciples of Christ underwent in the publi- cation oftlie Gospel, they were continually animating and supporting each other with the tradition and memory of the example of our Saviour and his apostles: every circumstance of their lives, as well as the patient firmness displayed at their deaths, afforded amj)le matter of discourse, was cherished with earnest solicitude, and remembered with veneration. Ignorant how soon, or by what way they should depart out of this world, their first concern, and principal occupation, Mas a prepara- tion for the next. Hence the sanctity of their lives, hence those lively expressions of faith and religious confidence which break out continually in the writings of the primitive Fathers, hence the purity of their manners, and hence too the success of their preaching, and the rapid pro- pagation of the Gospel. How differently are the professors of Christianity in the present day affected ])y the perusii! and the knowledge of the great truths of the Gospel. How cold and On the Propagation of the Gospel. 225 find inanimate are the emotions which are produced by considering, if indeed they can be brought to conj^ider, the death of Christ, and the preaching of his apostles? How faint are the impressions Avhich re- ligion makes on the practice or opinions of men ? How dissimilar to that love of God which is dechired to be the fust and great commandment, and which gave birth to such noble instances of magna- nimity in the primitive Christians ? IIow aj)t, how forward are we to complain, if called npon to perform any duty whicJi requires the least abasement or self-denial, or even to abstain from positive guilt, or the gratification of a criminal wish or appetite ? If our holy faith vras planted in a soil enriched w^th the blood of martyrs, if such excellent viitues were exhibited in the conduct and character of its fust preachers, if no le^s a sacrifice than the Son of God himself v.as required to redeem our souls, and purchase for us eternal rest and glory : it must surely be our urgent duty to manifest our fidelity and gratitude by prompt obedience, and Q earnest 226 On the Propagation of the GospcL earnest and hearty devotion. Utterly dead must he be to every impulse of sensdnlity, to eveiy noble faculty of the mind, to every good or luUural atfeetion ; vho can conit nijolaie wiih mdiffeiencc, or hear with unaitiied composure, the un- speakable mercies ot Christ ; who, when he thinks on his Redeemer, does not teel faith, hope, and charity, spring uj) within him; who does not fervently j)ray that the Gospel may be soon universally extended, that the sound of if may go out into oil lands, and the words of it unto the ends of the xvorld. SERMON SERMON XIV. • ON CONTENTMENT*. .Acts vi. I. And in those days Zihcn the number of the dis- c'lples was multiplied^ there arose a murmuring of the Grecians agaijist the Ilebrexvs, because their widows were neglected in the dailj/ minis" tratiofi. JL O understand dearly this, and many other passages of scripture, it is necessary to compare them with other parts of sacred history, and to consider the parti- cular circumstances of those whose state and condition it concerns. We read that there arose a murmn ins^ of the Grecians against the Hebren^s. Who these Grecians were, it is of Httle importance to enquire ; whether be meant those Jews who, after * Preached at the annual distribution of charity money, Q 9i the 228 On Conientment. tlie dispersion of tlie ten tribes, lived among and spake the language of the Greeks, or whetlicr they were Gentiles by descent, and afier having become pro- selytes to Judaism, had embraced Christi- anity, and were, tlierefore, termed Gre- cians, to distinguish them from those who boasted of their descent from Al:>raham : it is sufficient for us to know, that they were received as members of the Christian church, and became entitled to every privilege, which that religion bestows equally on all its sincere and faithful votaries. In this early stage of the religion of our Saviour, when its doctrines were as yet new, and made more impression on the minds and lives of its disciples, than, it is lamentable to own, it has ever since been known to do in after times ; the condition of their poorer brethren was matter of seiious concern to the rich, and fully aware of the inestimable value of the blessings of a future existence, they made no scruple of parting with their temporal possessions'; and were willing to submit On Contentmeni. Q^g submit to every inconvenience to wliich penury is exposed in this world, to be deemed worthy of partaking of the re- wards, which Christ has promised to the meek and charitable in the next. But whatever influence the precepts of the Gospel may have had on the temper and the practice of its professors, it cannot, or it does not, at once divest them of those prejudices which have ever been found more inveterate and difficidt to eradicate, or overcome, than occasional, or even habitual vice. Almost every man is too apt to consider his own happiness as abridged by the superior or equal happiness of his neigidv^ur, and to be iinwiUing to admit others to privileges, which he has been taught to consider as peculiar to his nation or himself. The widozm of the Grecians zicre neglected in the dalbj ministration : it was, indeed, a pre- possession most dear to every individual of the Jewish nation, that they themselves were the peculiar and^the only favourites of Heaven, and had a right to e.\[)Cct, and to claim blessings from the Almighty, Q 3 uf 230 Bn Conknt merit i of which the rest of mankind, to ulmn Hie promises zvere never macki were unworthy and exempt. This exemption was openly avowed by every descendant of Israel before the pro- mulgation of tlic Gospel, and was the last and narrowest national prejudice which the Jewish disciples of Christ were persuaded to give up. AVhen, therefore, the ahns and possessions of the first Christian societies were distributed, the Jewisli Christians, who were by far more numerous than their Grecian brethren, and to whom, it^is probable, the oflice of ministration was confined, evinced much and marked partiality, and by an unecjual partition of the necessary provisions, dis- covered that they thought themselves superior to the rest. This explanation of the temper and opinions of the Judaising Christians will serve to account for their ckiims of supe- riority, and the dissention which thus un- happily disturbed the peace of the first Christian community, will by thus con- sidering the circumstances of its members, 4 more On Contentment. ^31 more powerfully excite our lamentation than surprise. In the review of the senti- ments of the primitive Cliristians, we dis- cern with painful reluctance the vestiges and etlects of those passions, which it was the professed object of the author of Christianity to extirpate, and which all his disciples at their baptism are bound to renounce. In the infancy of the church every member, we are told, abandoned his private property, and readily surrendered his share of teniporal possessions for the use of the community : theij had all things conunon. Although this practice certainly was huuhible, and highly useful in a conhned and infant society, we find no precept or warrant ibr its use and imitation in the doctrine of our Saviour, whose knowledge of the world, and of human nature, was too clear and perfect, to allow him to enjoin or to approve an absolute e()uality of the lichcs of the earth: an ecpial participation of pioperty he well knew was impracticable, and tends directly to break uj) the basis on which civil society rests : and we perceive by Q -i this S32 On Contentment, this early ficcount of the first belicversy that a common div-iion of the couve- iiiences, oi', perhaps, merely of the ne- cessaries of iife, occasioned a dissention even amonost those who had abandoned o every hoj^e of temporal grandeur, and surrendered their whole pioperty for the use of the comnuinity and the public good. But tliOugh an equality of property be not expedient or possible, it by no means f )]lows that there shouhl not be an equality of hnppiness in the earth. Every station of iile has comforts which are peculiarly irs own; the shattered roof, which partially shelters its humljle inhabitant, secures him more effectually from malice and envy, than the proud and lofty turrets of the I'ich. If his pleasures are more cir- t:umscribed, his cares also and his wants iire less. The injunctions and promises^ of the Gospel alford him comfort and consolation, while in the rich and sensual tlicy cannot iail to excite sentimcjits of renu)rse and a[)prehension, which must, cmjjitter the luxuries they at ^iresent taste, artd On Contentment. 233 and of the future must poison the hope. For the consolations of reliizion are offeied to those only ^vhose dispositions in this workl are humble, and whose lives iue pure : the thoughts of another life to him, who is pampered with the good tilings of this, must threaten rather tlian console. He, whose life aii'.i age have been pas;ied in giddy scnbuaiity, is surely rather an object of compassion, than of envy, and his Lastendmustbeconteinphitedwitii mingled pity and contempt. Iv en in this v/orld his condition is iar from being desirable, ibr he, who is idle in a cojistant- roand of dissi[)ation, will be poor in the midst of wealth. When temporal pleasure is per- petual, it necessarily becomes insipid ; fatigued with the repetition of the same amusements, the votary of intenjp.crance must often feel disoust, when the nioht is passed in riot, the day is spent in trouble, and the repose which cheers and recruits the spirits of the wearied labourer, often refuses to visit the couch of the gay and wealthy voluptuajiit. On S34' On Contentment. On occasions like the present, we must all or us, I trust, feel grateful for the happy influence of the Gospel on the dispositions of those who, not content with deeds of charity in their Own generation, have con- sidered the condition of the poor and needy, when their characters, and, per- haps, their names, must have long since sunk from the memory, and it may be from the tradition of men. Of the person whose bequest has invited the present congregation to assemble themselves be- fore God, and to celebrate his praise, I can, indeed, say little, none of us being able to remember his person or his cir- cumstances, but of the disposition of his heart we can all form a judgment, from the benevolent use to which his property was applied : upwards of a century has now elapsed when the poor and friendless first met together in this place to be re- lieved by his posthumous bounty, and to excite each other to deeds of benevolence and good will, hy the participation of a gift, which however scanty it may appear ill these days of expence and luxury, was, i« On Contentment, 235 in the age in which it was bestowed, enough to cheer the mind of the indigent^ and make glad the heart of man. No senti- ment can be so proper, surely none can so naturally arise and be cherished at this time than gratitude to our common and Almighty benefactor, who disposes the hearts of the pious to the relief of their poorer brethren : who is the author and finisher of every good and righteous affec- tion, and wlio would, if we would follow his gracious direction, at all times lead u% on to sentiments and deeds of charity and lovcw The murmuring nhich arose of the Gre- cians against the Hebrews certainly was harmless, and trivial compared with those which are in our times so frequently ex- cited by a greediness of wealth: and the slight intimation of the early dis[)utcs of the primitive Christians ma}^ aflord us a lesson of moderation, and teach us to check those passions which may be truly considered as the parents of crimes, which have been the bane of social l)aj)piiiess, and have most frequently and jK)werfully disturbed 236 On Conienfmcnt. disturbed the peace of the world. Avarice, sclilsiiness, aud pride, are the most active disturbers of private as well as public tranquillity, and arc the most common and frequent errors into which human nature can fall. Tliey are those too which are must opposite to the spirit of Christi- anity, from which -our Saviour in his simple and subUrae Sernion on the Mount most earnestly warns his disc iples, and on •which the threats of Omnipotence are expressly denounced. Let not then the man in humble life any longer complain of liis condition, or murmur that he is neglected in the dai/i/ gnhiisf ration of Providence : even in this world he is, probably, much happier than those who put their trust in their goods, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches : he may be well assured that con- tentment is not only a strict and positive duty, but the purest comfort, which is seldom enjoyed by the rich, and never by the ])owerfill. And v.hen it shall happen that his jK)verty is relieved by public charity or private beneficence, he ought On Contcnlmcnt. 237 oncbt surely to conyratulate liimself on being born in a coiintiy where acts of charji y are more coiriHion, and wliere the doctrines of the Gospel are better uncier- stoocl and jnactiscd, than v,e may exidt- ingly and «;raiet"uliy affirm is the case in any otlier nalicm on tiie earth. Above all, siionld cive nnrei;>;ned tlianks to Ins Al- niigiity and nisucaried Benefactor whose gooduess is the sole strcnglh of oin- hea?f, and which we trust tlirough the merits of Christ will be our portion for ever. SERMON S E R M O N XV. OX INDIFPEREKCE, St. Luke, vii. part of 32d verse. JVe have piped to yoii^ and yc Jiave not danced ; ue have mourned to you, and yt have nut ijveyt. 1 r is an excellence peculiar to the writings ot' the New 'leslanient, that they unite the perspicuity of biographical narration with the force and energy of eloquer.ce ; they afford the brightest example, and the clearest precepts of virtue : the plan on uhich they are written admits of the bold imagery and vivid colouring which distin- guish the ablest authors of antiquiby, while it adheres to the i)lain and uniform system of nanative and truth. The fio;ures used to elucidate the doclrines of the Gospel are at once easy and elegant; and though they may sometimes rise beyond the imagiiiatiou of every writer that 240 On Indifference. that has preceded or lollowed their publi- cation, they never S(;nr above the com- prehension cyf tiie most illiterate Christian, or the humblest capacity. The allusions eniploj'ed by our Saviour are so striking, that tlicy cannot fail to obtain admiration;,. and y^'X so familiar as, at the sanie time, to excite our affection, and captivate the heart. '11)6 propriety of this remark is abun- dantly exemplified in the words of the text, where by an apt and beautiful simi- litude, our Lord compares the Jews, whose infatuated i)erverseness counteracted every ir.ethod employed by the Ahnighty to instruct and to save them, to children sitting in the market-place, and complain- ing to their companions, whose iioward and stubborn tempers no fondness could conciliate, no condescension engage ; We have piped to ijoiiy say tliey, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not z^cpt. The particular occasion that drew this severe rebuke from our Saviour was a message from John the Baptist, to enquire Avliether \vliiethcr he were indeed the Messiah they Expected, and whose immediate advent he foretold : and this he did, it should seem, hir»re to gratify the pious curiosity of his followers, than to satisfy any doubts or suspicions of his own. He knew that Christ was indeed come, the kingdom of Heaven already published, and took this metiiod to convince his disciples, that himself was not the true Messiah, which it seems some of them fondly imagined^ but sent them to Jesus, that they might be sure from a display of his superior power, and astonishing miracles, that He zms indeed that prophet that should come into the world. Our Saviour applied the comparison in the text to those who perversely rejected the preaching of John, because his doc- trines were discordant to their early pre- possessions and criminal attachments, be- cause he led a life of severe self-denial^ and preached the necessity of repentance and a godly life, and who represented him as a wild enthusiast^ or as in the language of scripture " possessed with a devil :" and R who 542 On Indifference, ivho yet, when our Lord himself m'ltei with the habits and conversation of the world, and partook of the innocent enjo}'^- ments bestowed upon us by our Creator for our comfort and happiness; because he went to marriage feasts, and let no opportunity escape him of instructing tlie Jews in the great truths of the Gospel, whether of mourning or of joy, at a funeral or a feast ; declared him to be a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber. The precepts of John were severe and rigorous, he himself set them the example of penitentiary discipline, and led the life of a recluse. The life and conversa- tion of our Saviour were more agreeable to the habits and manners of society: he taught them, that external appearance of repentance was of no avail, while the mind remained polluted ; that the most rigid habits of mortification were less gratifying to God, than a meek and patient temper, and a contrite heart. From such a doctrine, so mortifying to the pride, and opposite to the expectations of the Jewish people, they turned aside 4 with On indifference. t)4g With incredulity and disgust. « If," said they, " He be indeed the Messiah, the " Son of the blessed, let him exhibit " some token worthy of his high preten* ** sions, and our own hopes : let him " display tl.e banner of Omnipotence, " and expel from our hitherto favoured " country the Romans who now hold us *' in subjection ; let him raise again our " military character, and deliver us from " a foreign yoke. Instead of attempting *' to free us from the tribute and exactions *' of our Gentile masters, he associates " with their officers, and strives by per- " suasion and mild deportment to render ** them his disciples, and win them to his " cause. Far different are the expecta- " tions we have been taught to form of ** our true and long hoped-for Messiah ; ** his reign, we are convinced, will be " triumphant, his aspect imperious, under " him we shall take ample vengeance on " our enemies, and establish an universal *' empire upon earth. By becoming thq *' disciples of Jesus, we shall attain no " personal glory, nor exalt our national R 2 *' character: £44 On Indifference. " character : he does not even teach US' " to look up to him as the founder of a ** mighty kingdom, as we trust he will " be, whose character and office he would " assume : his manners and doctrine are '* totally dissimilar to what we expect ** from him, who should redeem Israel, *' and raise Jerusalem to the rank of ** metropolis, and mistress of the world. " Where is that regal port, that towering " majesty, which should characterise our " expected deliverer? Where, that lust " of dominion that marks a conqueror? ^* Where, that aptness to command that " bespeaks a king? The conduct of Jesus *• is calculated rather to conciliate favour, " than demand obedience; to convince " us by persuasion, than awe us by " superior sway/' Possessed of these notions of the tem- poral grandeur and authority of their Messiah, it is not surprising that the Jews discredited and despised the meek and humble Jesus, who preached the Gospel of peace, and taught, that deeds of chai'ity, and dispositions of benevolence, were On Indifference. 245 were more acceptable in the siglit of their (Heavenly Father, than the proudest acts of victory, or the most signal triumphs over those Gentiles, whom they had al- ways considered as vile and infamous, but who were now to be regarded with affec- tion and fraternal love. Even when they fouMu under the immediate direction of Providence, when their battles were con- ducted, and success secured, by the visible interposition of the Almighty, they be- trayed evident and avowed symptoms of rebellion and discontent, When led by the divine influence forty years through the wilderness, fed by a continued miracle, and cheered by undoubted assurances of the protection of Heaven ; their perversa disposition discovered itself, and they openly murmured at the decrees of him, whom they could not but own as their deliverer, and revere as their God. Their stubbornness and hardness of heart, iu the generation which might have been blessed by the advent of Christ, is too clear and notorious to need demonstation ; and it is certain, that at no former period R 3 was 246 On Indifference. was the comparison in the text so fully exempUfied, neither could it ever be ap* plied with more propriety and force. It were to be wished that its justice and propriety were confined to their age or nation, and that we ourselves were not included in the severity of the reproach. For however we may condemn the Jews for ingratitude, perverseness, and pride, our own manners, our own sentiments, and declarations, too strongly prove, that ■we are in general actuated by the same principles and modes of faith : their great error lay in confiding in their own worth and righteousness, and in expecting those benefits, as the just consequences of their own desert, which ought ever to be re^ garded and hoped for, as the free and unmerited gifts of God. Far from ac- l^nowledging that we daily receive more than we have any right to expect, more than we either '' desire or deserve,'' we, as well as they, think ourselves aggrieved, if we are not gratified in any wish or petition, however absurd in its object, or pernicious in its tendency, ^nd when, not with" Oft Indifference. 247 notwithstanding our unworthiness, our Heavenly Father vouchsafes to render or continue to us blessings, of which, though we have loi|g possessed them, we rarely know either the value or the use ; how often does it happen, that we slight what ought to have worked our salvation, and turn what might have been, and was intended, for our benefit, into the means of our destruction ? How often within our own memories has God graciously intervened, and saved this nation from misery, subjugation, and extreme distress? Plow frequently, during the course of the last ten years, have we felt in our hearts, and confessed with our lips, ^Hat we have been providentially saved from the de- vastation and misery which pervaded almost every other country in Europe, and that we alone have enjoyed in quiet and security the fruits of our labours, the advantages of a tolerant and reformed religion, and all those comforts which other nations so ardently sigh for, but which, it may be truly said, have been Tv 4 possessed 248 On Indifference^ possessed hy scarcely any other but ou|* own ? It might be useful, but I fear lamentr able, to enquire, whether we have regarded these blessings >vith due thankfulness to the gracious Author of them, or whether we have not accounted them as our ii:^- heritance and right. If we have thus despitefully treated the blessings of our Lord, if we have not owned ther^ wdth grateful acknowledgment, or, perhaps, not considered them as proceeding from liim, from v/hom cometh every^ good mid every perfect gift; how great is our in- gratitude, how heinous our sinj Surely our hearts are not so much choaked with X\\e good things of this world, as Xo be entirely insensible of those benefits, whicl^, though they have been long continued to us, are not on that account less estimable, but which we ouglit ever to acknowledge as our most precious privilege, and our greatest good. Where are the people on the face of the globe, who have possessed such invaluable advantages, whose pro- perty has been so safe, whose homes are SQ On Indifference^ ^49 SO justly dear to them, whose personal xights are so well guarded, whose laws are so equitably administered, whose faith is so pure ? Qur condition as individuals will not be found, I fear, more favourable to piet}^ pr less deserving of the rebuke contained in the text, It may truly be said of a large proportion of our countrymen, that they are little affected by the success or depression of Christianity, and hear with equal indifference, whether the religion they protess, and which the Son of the Highest died to establish, has in tlieir age been propagated and extended, or whether infidelity has increased. If worldly bles- sings are continued to them, it matters little, whether their faith flourishes, or is suffered to languish. They are heedless of the promises and invitation of their 3aviour. If he pipes to them, with stupid carelessness they are averse to dance ; if he mourns to them, they are too unfeeling to weep. Alike insensible of the present success of the Gospel, and their own future happiness, they go on in the same dull 250 On Indifference. dull round of amusement, and view the advancement or diminution of public virtue, v/ith the same apathy as the rude and tasteless savage listens to the monoto- nous roar of the water-fall, or the sighings bf the coming storm. If this be a faithful picture of our condition and character, (and that it is, our own consciences too plainly tells us, and our manners and vices loudly pro- claim,) how serious is the reflection, and how thankful ought we to be, that our Maker has not yet given us up to the punishment which befel the Jews, which we ourselves so richly merit, and which does indeed hang over our heads, and threatens to fall upon us before the next sabbath arrives. We all know and feel that we have in repeated instances rejected the most gracious calls to repentance, despised the fatherly correction of our Creator, and if not in words, at least by our actions, have clearly intimated, that we care not for the threatenings of Omni- potence, nor are at all thankful for his love, Na On Indifference, 251 No crime is more universally detested in society than ingratitude, or gives more pain to our own bosoms : he who is in- sensible and does not acknowledge benefits that are past, is always considered as un- worthy of those that might ibllow here- after, is necessarily unhappy in himself, is shunned by the virtuous, and is not courted by the bad. If then this be considered as so criminal among our fellow-men, how atrocious must it be -when manifested against Him, on whose beneficence we can have no claim, and from whose unmerited, and often un- solicited mercy, we can only receive the benefits we wish, or can be protected from the evils which we fear ; whose purity we have all provoked by sin, which we are perpetually committing, whose holiness we have all offended, but who ceases not to pour down blessings upon us, and to give us proofs of his unwearied tenderness and care. To in numerate the acts of beneficence which God has be- ;stowed on the human race, would be endless, and far beyond my capacity or skiU. 262 On Indifference,, skill. Every one whose heart is not al- together alienated from the love and fear of God, must be sensible that every thing which affords him comfort here, or on which he builds his hopes of happiness hereafter, proceeds immediately from his Creator; and will readily and devoutly confess that the Lord God is full of com- passion and mercy, long-suffering, plentcQns in goodness and truth. SERMON SERMON XVI. 0>T THE SERVICE OF GOUr Romans vi. \6. Know ye not that to zvhom ye yield yourselves to obey, his servants ye are to lohom ye obey. However mortifying to the pride, and contrary to the professed sentiments of mankind, especially in the present age, may be the doctrine, that we must all be considered as servants : yet reason, revela- tion, and experience, alike assure us, that no man, however exalted be his rank, or refined his understandiiig, can be said to be exempt from the service of his Maker, or the yoke of iniquity. Man was ori- ginally placed upon earth, as much to execute the service of God, as to promote his own happiness. Happiness he soon deservedly lost, by impairing the glory of his 55-i On the Service of God. Ills Creator, by rebelling against that fiist and simple command, the obedience or violation of which was appointed to be the trial of his virtue, and the test of his fidelity. It is not of the smallest con* sequence of what this test consisted. Whether it was comprised in a constant exercise of labour, or only in the cropping of a flov.er, the violation of the law of his Creator was equally express, and equally sinful. We well know, that the wit of the infidel^ and the coarse raillery of the profane^ have been often pretend- edly excited by the description of the act of primeval iniquity. The majesty of God offended by so seemingly trivial a fault, as the plucking and taste of for- bidden fruit ; paradise, innocence, and immortality, forfeited, and man seduced with an apple, has been often deemed by the faithless " worth their laughter." But our opinion of this action will be much more just and apposite, when we consider, that this was the only sin which our fore- father had any temptation to, or perhaps could possibly coiiimit; that he had been sufficiently On the Service of God. ^qj sufficiently warned of the consequences, and knew that he was thereby forfeiting all claim to the protection of God, violating his single injunction, and disobeying his only prohibitory law. And to those who desire not so much to pry into the impene- trable secrets, the incomprehensible coun- sels of the Almighty, as to attain his promises, and secure their own salvation, the description of the fall of our first parents must appear as the gracious com- munication of Him, who xmrketh all things, after the counsels of his czcm will, and they may with propriety reply to the sneers of the unbeliever in the words of Job, know, that God eocacteth of thee less than thine, iniqidtij deserveth. It is not, however, to explain or treat of the doctrine of original sin, but to con- ^'ince you of the present stale and real condition of all men, that I have selected the words of the text; which were not less repugnant to those to whom they were originally addressed, to the proud, triumphant, and haughty Roman, to tUe conceited philosophers, the arrogant con- querors ^56 On the Service of (rod. querors of the world in the time and cotirt of Nero, tlian to the sceptical, self-wise infidel of the modern school. For what can be more repugnant to the generally avowed opinions, what more coiitrary to the spirit of the present times, than a, confession of obedience ? To serve, even our Maker, is too frequently considered as the proof of an abject spirit, of pusil- lanimity, and abject fear. Wliat is mor6 generous, say the men of this world, than the gratification of appetite ? What more noble than freedom of sentiment and conduct.^ What more galling than the sensation of restraint? What more con- temptible than a sense of awe? Yet a sense of false shame, a sense of honour^ as it is often called by the world, influences, ahnost every man who pretends to eleva- tion of sentimolit, or even the character of worth and honesty. So unwilling are we to walk in the path of righteous-ness, so sore under a reasonable, and, one might say, an imaginary burden, that we fre- quently enrol ourselves among the bands of sin, and becoiiic the faithless disciples of On the Service of GocL ^^J of a vain pliilosophj, rather than be thought to be checked in our conduct, or influenced in opinion, by the precepts of our Redeemer, and the words of our God. We seem not to knowj that to whom we yield ourselves servants to obeij, his servants we are to whom we obey. For no man ever lived, who could so far divest ijimself of tlie shackles of the world, who was so entirely free from the necessary contin- gencies which all feel, and none caa foresee; no one ever lived, who could positively affirm, that he was free from the influence of passion, and not subject to inclinations and appetites, which he did not then or afterwards know to be vicious, or found to be faulty. Not only our own feelings, if properly weighed and remembered, but the experience of the world, and the conduct of other men, ^vill convince us, that v/e are more fre- quently led away insensibly by passion, and a fondness for sensual objects, than directed by reason, or guided by any rule of moral excellence. This is evident not less from the profane history of past ages, s and 2.58 On the Service of God, and a due observance of our own, iimm from examples record edj and precepts m scripture written for our learning; which ought surely to have more weight than all the deductions of human reason, or the longest, and most constant experience of man. But to speak plainly, so bad are the times, so faithless and perverse is the present generation, that many would rather derive information from any other source than the Bible, and wish to exalt their own understandings, their own frail, finite intellect, at the ex pence of revela- tion, and even in opposition to the words of their God. Even among those who wish to be thought, and perhaps really esteem themselves disciples of Christ, there are some who will not receive any doctrine that is not in unison with that standard which they have themselves chosen as the limit of devotional con- formity, and the barrier of religious truth. "Without considering, or v.hich is worse, -without allowing, and, therefore, denying, tliat all scripture is given from inspiration of God,, and, consequently, cannot be broken^ 5 they On the Service of God. ' 559 they garble llie holy scriptures at their pleasure, they reject as obsolete, or despise as absurd, whatever militates against their own opinion of truth and rectitude. And some .have gone so far as to put aside whatever was not, as they say, insisted on immediately by our Saviour. Thus they think it no sin to dispute, and arro- gantly deny many passages in St. Paul's epistles, because, say they, they were WTitten by a mortal, and cannot be proved to have been taught by our Lord durino- the continuance of his ministry, nor were uttered or written while he himself re- mained upon earth. But this wretched subterfuge carries with it not less absurdity than irreverence, it bears on the very face of it the stamp of infidelity, and forms for its followers the most tiin]sy apology, the most artificial and feeble defence. Better had they at once avow themselves the servants of sin, better had they throw off entirely all profession of religion, and substitute morality, or reason, or senti- ment, or any other title the God of this world may choose to be worshipped, in s 2 its 260 On the Service of God. its stead. The smallest consideration will- serve to convince us, that the rejection of any part ol" canonical scripture must in- volve in it consequences most pernicious to the credit of the Gospel^ and constitutes a crime of the greatest magnitude. Many of the epistles were written much earlier tlian the works of the Evangelists, and ought and must be regarded as the genuine precepts of the Holy Spirit. Every part of the Bible was written by holy men of Cod, who recorded and spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost, The rejection, therefore, of any part of prophecy or scripture approaches, more nearly thaii most men seem to be aware, to that mo- mentous guilt, that dreadful sin, which ahall not be foriiiven unto men. The horrible consequences of which have led me into a digression from a close interpretation of the text, but which at no time can be void of interest to those who regard the scrip- ture with reverence, or an aberration of duty with fear. uSince servitude then is the lot and in- heritance of man, it is of the first import- anca On the Service of God. 2Gl ance to find a master whose service is eas}', and whose burden is lio;ht. Faithful service is proved by obedience : if we pretend to be the servants of God, and yet obey tlic will and direction of other masters, our obedience is eye-service, and our ])ro- fession of attachment not from the heart. Nothing is more easy than the knowledge of our duty, and nothing more gratifyuig, to the truly pious, than its uniform pursuit. Our service is, indeed, as our liturgy aptly expresses it, perfect freedom. This will be clearly manifest, and abundantly cheer- ing, when we recall to our recollection, what it is that God requires from us, what we are to execute, and what we are to gain. He recjuires from us nothing hard or painful, nothing that does not promise and afford the truest happiness, and will ensure to us eternal peace. His service consists in humble devotion, willing obe- dience, and earnest and grateful praise. Yet no one can be devout who is not faithful, nor faithful who is not thankful for the bounty of his Creator, and willingly o-bedient to his law. Faith consists not s 3 in 262 On the Service of God. ill a mere historical belief that certain events have happened, and certain persons existed : this even the devils believe, and therefore do they tremble. But the faith by whicii zoe have boldness and access to our Lord, is a rooted conviction that we are by nature corrupt, and by inclination sinful : that we are all shapen in iniquity, and justly liable to divine wrath, not only as the posterity of guilty parents, but for the proneness, the innate disposition of every one, to stray from the law of his Creator, and pursue those practices, and indulge such opinions, as are derogatory to his dignity, and directly tend to dis- honour hi^ name. It is a firm persuasion, that through the merits and intercession of Him who hath redeemed us from the curse of the laze, being 7nade a curse for us ; we are justified by his blood, and shall be saved from zcrath through him. Where is boasting then ? 1 1 is ei eluded, for if righteousness come by the law, then is Christ dead in vain. Taith then is the only refuge, the only true prop and consolation of a Christian, •without which every action of our lives must On the Service of God. 203 must be imperfect, and even our seem- ingly good opinions will, if duly traced and sifted, be ever found to have a taint of sin, and a bias to corruption. We must be convinced, as much by the coji- versation of the world, and the practice of its votaries, as by the express word of revelation, that zee arc not sufficient of our- selves to think any thing as of ourselves, but our sufficiencij is of God. How strictly incumbent on us is it then, to strive con- tinually to please, and dutifully to serve him, to make his service the principal business of our lives, the chief object of our endeavours, and tiie pride of our affections. Then shall we no longer dread or deserve the reproach which our Lord uttered by the mouth of his prophet against his chosen people. //* / /jc a father, where is mij honour? If I be a master, where is mi/ fear? The service of God requires also mental gratitude, as well as positive and visible acts of devotion. We cannot be said readily to yield ourselves servaids to obey Him, who cannot claim, and does not s tt receive. 26'i On the Service of God. receive, the sen ice of the heart, as \vc1I as the calves of the lips. "We cannot be said to be true disciples of Christ, unless we delight in the law of God after the inward man. Our lives may be moral, our practice temperate, and our manners charming, but unless we feel in our hearts, and are convmced in our minds, that from God alone comcth every perfect gift, that without his almighty and paternal aid, our condi- tion would be wretched, our minds callous, and our life a burden ; we have not attained that frame and disposition of heart which the pious feel, which Christ inculcated, and which is requisite before we can be admitted into those joys which God hath prepared for those that love him. This temper of mind is no less necessary for the enjoyment of Heaven, than its attain-^, jnent: without it even the charms of paradise would pall, the praises of God become a task, and eternal life distasteful: and if even we anticipate, or faintly conceive celestial happiness, it is when our souls are transported with a sense of ilm goodness of the Lord, our thoughts occupied Cn the Service of God. SG3 occupied in the contempkition of his mercy, and in earnest attempts to glorify his name. To be convinced of the use and pro- priety of thankfuhiess, and to be excited to feel and express it, notliing more is necessary, than just sentiments, and re- collections of tlie blessings which God bestows ; the continuance of which solely constitutes our happiness, and the want or even intermission of which would at once leave us without support or consola- tion ; without the means of averting the miseries of human life, and without the spirit to encounter them. Every con- venience we possess, every delight we feel, and every good we hope for, must proceed primarily from Him, whose ser- vants we are, whose omnipotence we should invariably adore, whose bounty we should freely confess, and whose mercy we should continually praise. This is the most indispensible, the least return we can make for benefits which are almost always misapplied, and which too oitvn eerve to pamper pride, and engender malignity ; ^66 On the Service of God. malignity ; but which were bestowed on us for very different purposes. It is not, indeed, to be expected, that those who yield themselves servants to obey the world and all its train of vanities and dissipation, should properly apply the means which God affords to the consolation of their poorer brethren, to the service of right- eousness, or the advancement of truth. Yet the many active monitois of the un- certainty, and short duration of human life, the sting of remorse, the gripe of disease, and the unwelcome, though un- conquerable, sense of eternity, would ex- cite them to thoughts more adapted to their real condition, if ever they suffered themselves to meditate, to commune with their own hearts ; if they were not the constant, the willing slaves of sin, and had not truly and heartily entered into the service of Manunon. May all of us duly consider, and pro- perly estimate the duties and rewards which are attached to the servants of Christ ; may we never lose sight of that recompense which is inestimable, eternal, and On the Service of God. 267 and certainly our own, if we earnestly endeavour to obey the commands of Hini who is at once our Maker, our Redeemer, and our Judge. So may ^ve humbly and piously hope, when we have completed our service in tiiis life, to hear those en- chanting sounds, JFell done thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joij of Ihjj Lord, SERMON SERMON XVII. BEPORE A SACRAMENT. 2 Kings, v. 12. ^re not AbanaandPharpar, rivers of Damascus^ better than all the zmters of Israel ? may I not wash in them, and be dean ? So perverse is the disposition of man, and so powerful his prejudices, that what- ever he cannot reconcile to his own reason, or belief, however calculated it may be for his interest, or prompted by duty, he is apt to disregard and despise. Buoyed up with the consciousness of our supe- riority over other animals, and many of us with our advantages over other men ; we too often imagine ourselves competent to judge of things which are naturally above our sense and comprehension, and think that we have a rio-ht to demand explanation of the means and reasons of those 270 Before a Saa^ament, those blessings which we ou^ht to receive with mute humihty and a thankful heart. While we continue to receive blessinirs from our Creator, it matters not to us, what are the methods he employs, in order to convey to us assurances of his paternal love and protection. We know that they are all undeserved, that we have nothing to claim from his justice, but much to ask from his merc}^ Even the ordinary bless- ings which are daily showered down upon us in plentiful profusion, call for our constant gratitude and praise ; how much more then do those signal instances of mercy, which we have all received at his hands. There are none, I trust, so stupid and ungrateful, as to deny that they have received many blessings which have as^ sured them of the watchful care of Pro- vidence, and ought to have taught them reverence for his power, and respect to his commands. There is not, I firmly believe, one Avho has attained the age of manhood, but can recollect some instance of the peculiar care of his Almighty Father, Before a Sacrament. 271 Father, some wonderful deliverance from accident, some narrow evitation of danger which conld only be effected by the im- mediate interposition of Heaven, and which oblioed him to confess at the instant, that to infinite and immortal power alone, he owed his escape. We know that the designs of God are inscrut- able, and so must be the means by which he effects them : we surely should not refuse to credit their efiicacy, because we cannot discover their nature or their use. But many of us are perverse enough to neglect the means of salvation, because they are easy and simple ; because we cannot tell, how by such facile methodsy such great and momentous designs can be brouo;ht about. This was the case with Naaman in the text. lie had been lono- and grievously afBicted with the leprosy ; a disorder which had baffled the powers of medicine, and from which it seems he despaired of relief; till he had heard from one of his slaves, of the extraordinary cures wrought by Elisha, the servant of a God he despised, and whose existence he Mas 272J Before a SacranieriL ■was not disp6sed to credit. Willing^ however, to let no chance of recovery escape him, and persuaded by the report of his wonderful miracles, lie determined to visit this strange Prophet, and travelled with a lar2;e suite of servants, and immense loads of wealth to recompense EHsha for the trouble^ which he supposed he must take in restoring him to health. He ex-* pected, no doubt, that his recovery must be effected by long and repeated trials of art and medicine, or that the Prophet would have enjoined him some strict regimen which would, if adhered to, at length effect his cure. lie was willing to submit to the most nauseous and severe expedients, which miglit tend to deliver him from a disease that had been declared incurable, and which deprived him of the enjoyment of his ample fortune, and of every comfort of life. When arrived at the habitation of Elisha, he was displeased that lie paid so little respect to one who was so honourably attended, and that he answered by the mouth of his servant the enquiries and request of Naaman, whose before a Sacrament. 275 eagerness to be admitted into the presence of Elisha, it may be supposed, was pro- portionable to his solicitude for his re- covery, and the hopes he entertained of the success of the means which EUsha would prescribe. AVhen, therefore, he found that the Prophet neither came out to meet him, nor invited him into his house, v/hich he refrained to do, in all likelihood, in order to make trial of his faith, and convince him it was not by natural means that he would effect his cure, and that he had no occasion to see or converse with him ; but that whatever he accomplished was done by prayer and intercession with his God. When Naaman had heard that he prescribed to him a method of cure, which might not be purchased by wealth, and v>'hich he could not obtain more easily, than the meanest of his slaves. When he received the command to go and wash seven times in Jordan, a river whose waters contained nothing medicinal, he felt provoked at the directions he had received, and con- vinced, perhaps by sad exj)erience, of the T inefficacy 274 Before a Sacrament, inefficacy of a bath, lie incredulously es:- claimed : Arc not Ahana and Pharpar., rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel ? may I not wash in them, and he clean? And he turned and went away in a rage. There are, perhaps, few in this assembly, who are not ready to condemn the in- credulity and impetuous scorn of Naaman, and were there any glaring instance of a man of the same intemperate passion, he would, probably, be the object of their pity or contempt. But, perhaps, it may be found, that Naaman's is by no means, even in this age or nation, an uncommon character. Many who profess themselves Christians, are conscious of crimes which they know deserve punishment, are sin- cerely desirous of reconciling themselves to their Creator, and earnestly wish to he washed from their iniquity, and cleansed from their sin : yet refuse the means prescribed by Him, whom they own to be their Lord and Saviour; and although he invites them by the most endearing persuasion to attend his holy table, and promises that by means 7 of Before a Sacra^uent. 275 of this divine ordinance, they shall receive remission of their sins, and assurance of pardon, 3^et they wilfully, not to say in- credulously, turn from the blessings held out to them, and like the faithless Naaman perversely refuse to wash and he clean. When we consider the importance of this sacrament, and call to our remem- brance those awful and positive words of our Saviour, eicept ye eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you; and reflect on the vast number of those, who profess themselves Chris- tians, wdio, so far from embracing every opportunity, of celebrating the sufferings of Christ, and of partaking of the bless- ings of his death and resurrection ; never have partaken of the communion in their lives : we should be almost tempted to think, that they really did not believe the Gospel, or that they considered the sacra- ment of the body and blood of Christ as by no means " necessary to salvation/* And the latter of these is too often actually the case. Many suppose that their duty is fully performed, if they attend regularly - T 2 some 276 Before a Sacrament. some place of public worship on a Sunday, and refrain on the other days of the week from any notorious sin : if they live among their neighbours with honesty and decorum, they think they have done all that is required of them. But however they may now reconcile this rejection of the invita- tion of their Saviouj', this refusal to partake of the benefits which Christ purchased for them by his blood, this tacit confession of their hope, that there may be some other way found out, by which they may obtain the benefits of Christ's death without obedience to his commands : yet there will a time come, when their refusal to attend the Sacrament will be remembered Avith the keenest anguish, and the most bitter remorse. In the days of health and prosperity we too often disregard the most simple and easy means of reconciling our souls to God, and are too much influenced by pride and worldly avocations to con- sider these rejections of God's mercy and covenant, as positive and heinous crimes. But in a dying hour cur sentiments of their guilt and baseness will be far more just Before a Sacrament 277 just and terrible, they will then rise up as the ghosts of sins long past, and appear among the number of those crimes which have been lono; ag-o committed and for- gotten ; but which will then rear their hideous heads, and rise on the surface of the memor}^ as sunken rocks are seen above the waters at the departure of the ebbino; tide. Our Saviour has positively declared, wJioso eateth my flesh, and drinJceth mif blood, hath eternal life : and these words, in every nation of Christendom, and in every age of the church, have been under- Stood to apply to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper : by a worthy reception of which, all our sins are blotted out ; and we are made by a mystical union members of the body of Christ : we du'ell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his spirit. How this union is effected, it is not our business to enquire; all we have to do is to prepare our minds to receive worthily these inestimable benefits. It does become us curiously to investigate the jiianner how our souls are purified by the T 3 reception 37S Before a Sacrament, reception of the Holy Communion, but to accept the blessing with pious gratitude and meek devotion. We are sure that he who ordained this sacred rite, is holy, just, and true, and would never have holden out to us promises which he will not amply fulfil. I am the more earnest in impressing upon your minds the necessity of sacra- mental communion at this time, as a great part of the present congregation have recently bound themselves to obey all the ordinances of the Lord, and promised in the face of the Church, at the time of their Confirmation, to cast off the shackles of sin, and by every means in their power endeavour after a life of purity and in- nocence. They may be sure no means are so proper, efficacious, or sure, as those appointed by Chri>t himself: and that if they do not eui brace the earliest oppor- tunity of attending at his holy table, there will aiise in their minds a repugnance, a negligence to receive this benefit, which is not Itss culpable, because it assumes the shape of fear, is clad sometimes by the Before a Sacrament. 279 the great adversary of man in the garb of humiHty, and puts on the semblance of meekness and despondent virtue. An unwilhngness to partake of the Supper of the Lord must either proceed from a con- viction of unworthiness, or a disbelief of the })enefits which God has promised. The criminality of those who live in the <{uiet continuance of either of these errors, is great and palpable. If they be un- worthy, the greater need have they to stop in their career of sin; their refusal to comnmnicate only indicates a deter- mination to be sinful. If they disbelieve the promises of God, if they do not credit the words of their Saviour, better had they not pretend to the name of Christians, or ever come where they may hear his Gospel ; for they must listen only to their condemnation, and learn with sensible remorse and reluctance that God is not mocked, for whatsoever a man sozoethy that shall he also reap. It has been objected by some defamers of our holy religion, that the doctrine of remission of sins by a participation of the T 4 Communion, 280 Before a Sacrament. Communion, tends to favour the cause of immorality, that if a man can procure absolution of his offences, by the mere act of eating and drinking of consecrated ■viands, he will sin with a high hand, and think himself, whilst in health at least, safe and secure; and be tempted to com- mit the most heinous crimes, when he has so easy assurance of pardon. But this objection has been unjustly urged ; no one ever pretended that the simple act of eating bread, and drinking wine, conferred on the impenitent sinner pardon or peace. He who approaches the holy table without a thorough conviction of the baseness of his past sins, and a steady resolution to forsake them, commits an act of insult and mockery in the more immediate pre** sence of his Saviour, and is guilty of a crime which he can only hope to expiate by a long course of penitence and prayer. No sin certainly can be more dreadful and daring, than to approach the Lord's Table with a design of repeating our of- fences, and a wish cf returning like a dog tQ Before a Sacrament. 281 io his vomit again, and like a soz£) that wai washed to her zmlloxdng in the 7nire, But the apprehension of committing this crime, is no excuse for absentino- ourselves, since by our constant absence vfe only proclaim to the world, and avow to our Almighty Father, that we are wedded to our vicious habits, and are determined to continue in the indulcrence of them, that we have no inclination to forsake our sins, and are not yet willing to wash and he clean. Let no one then pretend that his absence from the altar of the Lord arises from a dread of offending him, and that he is deterred from partaking of the Lords Supper, because he fears he has not on the wedding garment ; let him rather say, that he does not credit the promises of his Saviour, that he hopes to avoid the terrors of another world, and to attain a state of happiness by other methods, than those prescribed by Christ himself, that he is prompted to exclaim with Naaman: Are not Abana and Fharpar rivers of Da^ fnasciis^ 282 Before a Sacrament. wasctiSf better than all the waters of Israel f may I not wash in them, and be clean ? I hope I have sufficiently pointed out the folly and impiety of this sentiment, and convinced you, that through faith in the promises of Jesus Christ, a hearty resolution of amendment, and sincere repentance, we all have it in our power to be reconciled to our Creator, who now invites you to his table, and earnestly :|fequests you to wash and be clean. SERMON SERMON XVIII. OX PENITENTIAL AFFECTION. St. Luke vii. 42. Tell me xchkh of tlieizi "lvUI love him most ? 1 O reform mankind b}^ conciliation, and teach religion by persuasive address ; to inculcate purity by example, and mildly reclaim men from vice, is a distins-uishino" feature in the Gospel, the peculiar cha- racteristic of Christ. During our Saviour's ministry on earth, he did not confine his attention to the synagogue, or stated assemblies of the people, but in common conversation, and in the ordinary course of life, mixed religion with familiarity, and enforced virtue and godliness as much by his manners and conduct, as by the authority of his preach- ing, and the efficacy of his word. Al- though his eloquence must be supposed tQ f S-i- On Penitential Jfection. to have been singularly strong and con-' vincing, although he confirmed the ex- cellence of his doctrine by a most astonish- ing display of miracles, although his auditors confessed that never man spake like this man ; he was not less willing to aflford instruction in private houses, than to a crowded audience in the temple : he was not more ready to pubhsh the Gospel of Peace to an eag-er and admirins: as- jjcmbly, than in the dwelling of an humble individual; he drew his arguments not jnore frequently from the authenticated pages of the prophets, and the ac- knowledged history of the Jewish people, than from the passing incidents of the day, and the ordinary occurrences of private life. His precepts are all of im- portance, and none of them can ever justly suffer neglect or abrogation ; for though many of them refer to the private history of those to whom they were spoken, none of them are void of interest or use: they tend alike to the promotion of domestic happiness and public virtue, to the welfare of every man, and every pommuniiy, On Penitential Affection. 285 community, to the establishment of social happiness, and universal peace. With a view to extend more widely the advantages of his Gospel, and to render his religion more generally known, and more chear- fully embraced ; he frequented the house of every one who was ready to I'eceive him, he conversed freely with every rank of society, and to those who were not offended with his mean appearance, and did not disdain the humble character in which he walked in this world, he readily communicated his doctrine and instruc- tions: he assumed not the austere manners of a sage, nor the vain arrogance of a scribe, but reproved vice, and preached righteousness with the benignity of a parent, and the admonition of a friend. While he remained in the house of a Pharisee, who had '' desired that he would " eat with him," there entered a woman, who was a sinner, and who besides the most lively testimonies of faith in his character, and reverence for his person, evinced the strongest penitence for her past transgressions, and earnest wishes for 286 On Venitential AfecHon. for pity and forgiveness. The Pharisee, who could not, perhaps, accuse himself of any direct violation of the law, or of morality, felt offended at the freedom ■with which our Saviour permitted her to approach him, and supposed that the easiness with which he treated her, be- trayed an ignorance of her character, and was a proof that he could not be the prophet he pretended, nor entitled to the authority he assumed. He expected no doubt that Jesus would have reprobated her past conduct, spurned her with in- dignation, and reproached her with her crimes. His own strict virtue and self- righteousness could not stoop to converse with, or to pity the distressed slave of iniquity ; she had fallen from innocence, and was, therefore, in his opinion, un- deserving of compassion, and was the proper object of punishment and hate. Her case was, probably, similar to that of many others of the daughters of infamy, who are compelled to v/ander in the maze of wickedness, because they have slipped off the path of virtue, who are obliged to associate On Penitential Affection, 287 associate with the infamous, because they are abandoned by tlie chaste. On our Saviour her distress, her tears, and contrition, excited sentiments of an opposite nature, and produced expressions of a far ditferent tendency. Thougli her sins might have been as scarlet, yet wlien washed in the tears of sincere repentance, they became in the eyes of him, who givdh liberal!}/, and uphraickth net, as wliite as snow; though they might have been red like crimson, by faithful hope, and real penitence, they became as wool Christ called not for austere demeanour, affected righteousness, and stated forms of devo- tion, but sincerity of heart, repentance for past transgression, and a steady and earnest purpose of amendment. He preached the necessity of ilmt faith zchich worketh by love : and declared the love of God to be the first and great command- ment, the surest title to eternal favour, and the most active motive to obedience. Nothing, indeed, more distinguishes the Gospel from every other religion, or code of morality, which has been obtruded oa the ^^BS On Tenitential Ajfeciion. the world either before or since its publi* cation, than its influence on the feelings of man, his gratitude, and affection. While other rehgious systems have affected to guide and elevate the reason, and some even to indulge the vicious propensities of nature, this addresses itself directly to the heart. And not only arrests the sinner when harbouring a criminal desire, or meditating on any wicked action, but in the stillest life, in the most humble con- dition of our nature, will interest, and comfort, and exercise the soul; and if not impeded by vicious habits and confirmed iniquity, will not fail to form the plastic mind of man into the divine semblance and image of his Maker. In order to convince the Pharisee of the justice and propriety of pardoning the penitent, and of commiserating the lot of contrite humility, our Saviour introduced the short and simple parable of a cr editor ^ which had two debtors, one owed him Jive hundred ijence^ and the other fifty : and when they had nothing to pay^ he frankly forgave them both. It must be apparent to On Penitential Affectioiu 289 to the meanest capacity that the creditor jnust here be understood to represent the Lord of heaven and earthy and by the debtors are meant all or any of the children of men. That all mankind are indebted to their Creator, none, I trust, will deny; and \Q\y will scruple to own, that besides the continual, and too often forgottetx blessings of provision, and hourly protec- tion from evil, and from threatened or accidental calamity ; we liave all reason to admire and acknowledge the long suf- fering patience of God, who does not immediately punish guilt at its instant perpetration, who does not at once chastise those sins and criminal affeqtions to which all are incident, and from which not even the purest are free. For such is the cor- ruption, such the frailty of man, that the most devout have confessed that their devotion is often disturbed and weakened by the intrusion of some worldly thought, or impure desire, which will arise in the mind without their consent or inclination, which seem to creep upon them clan- ^destinely, and which can only be accounted u fgr 290 Oh Feiutoiiial Affection, for or excited by ihe gmiid adversary of man. [kit sentiments of impurity, ii'not liarboured in the heart., nor iiidul^ed with. ' CD gratification ; it" driven out as soon as they are perceived by religious contemplation; if expelled as soon as they arise by those means which Christ has atibrded, which the Gospel immediately furnishes, and, which it was directly promulged to bestow. In this case, instead of vitiating the mind,, or rendering it unfit ibr Heaven, they may tend to its purification, and may be thought to have a similar eflect on the soul as a physical phmt has on the body,, if eaten largely and ^(^(X upon, it will necessarily produce death and corruption, but if taken medicinally, and succeeded by wholesome ailiment, will contiibute to cleanse and purify the frame, and establish its health and preservation. The Pharisee, on our Saviour's })roposing to him this parable, immediately perceived and confessed the justice of his reasoning, though not directly his ultimate drift and design. And on beii^-g questioned which •of the debtors of the indulgent creditor would OnPenlteiitial Jfftction, og i -would love him most? At once declared, I suppose him to whom he forgave ino^t. Which was precisely the answer our Saviour wanted, and which, indeed, na^ turallj sprung from the interrogation, and the circumstances of the case. From the positive assent which our Saviour gave his answer. Thou hast rightly judged, may be collected the comfortable assurance of remission of sins upon sincere repentance, and that the humble thankfulness, and meek contrition of a guilty penitent, is more acceptable in the sight of God, than the strict, and too often uncharitable virtue of a rigid moralist. It is this assurance of mercy, that lightens the load of afflic- • tion, and buoys up the soul, which would otherwise sink amidst the waters of strife and despair, with a well-founded hope of pardon and forgiveness. There are, it is well known, many who wish to reduce Christianity into a dry insipid system ^ii ethics, who would make the mission and , doctrine of Christ to consist merely in the publication of moral precepts, and in- :junctions of virtue; who assert that im- u 2 partial 292 On Vcnimitial Affection. partial justice to society, a strict undeviat- ing attention to the principles of honesty and honour, is the sum and substance of all religion, the only title to divine favour^ and the whole, the aggregate duty of man. ]5ut these people grossly deceive them- selves, and do as much injury to the cause of real goodness, as they underrate and desj)ise the sufferings and merits of our Saviour; and were they to consider or be told of the multiplied and shameful enor- mities which have been practised and authorized by the best and purest teachers of moral rectitude, they would be com- pelled to confess, that the love of virtue for its own sake is a brittle shield when opposed to the shafts of interest, that we all meet with temptations, from which a firm trust in the Almighty can alone de- liver us, that the love of this world, the insidious wiles of pleasure, the blandish- ments of loose gratification, can only be effectually resisted by the helmet of salva^ fio?}, and the szi'ord of the spirit^ which is the zi'ord of God. It On Penitential Affection, 293 it is an unhappy and very common -^rror of the present day to be swayed as much in opinion as practice, by prejudice, interest, and pride. And when any doc- trine is promulgated, however opposite it may be to Revelation and the Scripture, which either flatters our self-consequence, or relieves us from obligation, it is always well received, and strenuously supported' and is often set up against the precepts of the Gospel, and the law of Christ. And scarcely any doctrine of our faith has met with more opposition, or been exposed to more contention and ridicule, than the great article of the corruption of our nature, and the Fall of Man. Few are willing to confess their propensity to evil habits, and the necessity of a Saviour to redeem them from sin, and deliver them from its fatal consequences. But to esti- mate aright the love of God to sinful man, we must not onlv consider the oreat bless- •J ~ ings of creation, and continual preserva- tion from the various ills of this life, but we must take into the account, and suffer it to sink deeply into our memories, the u 3 wonderful 294 On Feiufential Affecikn. wonderful love of Christ, who died for our sins, and rose again for our justifica- tion, who has not only rescued us from the guilt of retaining the- corrupt affec- tions, which are the offspring of the sin of our first parents, but by his precious blocKl-shedding has secured to us pardon upon our sincere repentance, even of actual and premeditated guilt. It must be confessed, indeed, that some very well disposed men, by suffering tiieir minds to dwell too long and intensely on the cor- ruption of their nature, the baseness of sin, its cognate relation to man, and the deseit of eternal punishment, have fallen into errors which Christianity disowns and abhors, such are the impossibility of pardon after deliberate transgression, and eternal reprobation. Our faculties are, indeed, too narrow and confined to per- ceive directly the grand designs of our Maker : human intellect is too contracted to comprehend without close thougul, and elaborate enquiry, the great doctrine of atonement : neither is it necessary, or proper, to dwell too much on doctrines which Oil penitential Affection. 295 ^viiich are, and must be in their nature, too abstruse, too dazzling and briiliaut, td be viewed with steadiness and precision by the finite sense of a human creature. By thinking perpetually and separately on any article oi' our religion, which is confessedly mysterious, we shall find our- selves invariably involved in doubt and uncertainty: we shall not fail to collect clouds of obscurity and horror, which will inevitably darken the intellectual horizon, and screen those rays of comfort which would otherwise direct our steps, and illumine our path to a blessed eternity. But independent of those truths which however mysterious, are sure, and im- portant, and undeniable, there are olher^ which every one must perceive and know by his own sense and experience. Sin is plainly universal, and punishment with- held. And we cannot too powerfully feel the kiiivd mercy of our Creator, or too frequently enforce or consider the neces- sity of redemption througli Jesus Christ: since the denial of it is one of tlic mo^t u 4 prevailing '2j6 On Ttnitential Affection. prevailing errors which characterise this ase or nation : men have been always - p ready enough to consider and to prize their own abihties, their virtues, and their worth : but it was reserved for this faiths less, licentious, and ungi-ateful period to deny the merits of our Saviour, to call in question the corruption of man, and the congeniahty of sin to his nature. It v/as left for these our days openly to extenuate tliC necessity, and to underrate the value of redemption. And though we have not yet gone so far, as to throw off entirely the form of godliness, though we have not yet professed, that the love of God is useless and absurd ; it is much to be feared that the blood of the covenant is counted by many an ynholi/, or at least a trivial thing. If wu sfii/ that 'we have no sin, zi'e dtctive ourselves, and deny the ne- cessit}' of an advocate with the Father Jesits Chriat the righteous. And the stronger the convictiun of the want and advantage of a crucified Redeemer the warmer will be our love, and the more prompt and steady our obedience. It is not an ostentatious display On Penitential Affection, 297 display of unbiassed virtue, it is not vast professions of strict morality, tliat cleanses the heart, and inaketh it pure in the sight of God. It is not a vain and too often unfair comparison of our own merits with the vices of other men: it is not a plausible and specious appearance of honesty, or of that watch-word of infidelity, honour, that will procure us the favour of God, It is that meekness of temper, that humility of heart, and sincere endeavour to frame our minds according to the precepts of the Gospel, that God accepts, and will most richly reward. If we think that the purity of our morals, the regularity of our Jives, the fairness of our reputation, will be a sufficient passport to the realms of .eternal felicity; if we suppose that we can barter our own works at the gate of Heaven, and purchase with them a secure and honourable seat in the presence of pur Mcjiker; if we think ourselves unfairly dealt with, if our deservings are not ac- knowledged and approved by the justice of the Deity, if we disclaim all reliance on the mercy of Cinist, all desire to be included 298 On Fenitential Affection. included in liis comprehensive lenity, all wish for pardon, and all hope in his love ; we have, indeed, reached the summir, the very apex of impiety, and have been set by the tempter on the highest pinacle of the temple of sin, from which he will easily persuade us to cast ourselves down, and plunge into the abyss of destruction. The love of God then, and a candid and grateful acknowledgment of what Christ hath done and suffered for us, is the purest spring of piety, and the most holy as well as the most natural affection of the human heart. It is also the most powerful in- ducement to practise devotion to our Maker, and charity to man. If one man considers the comforts and blessings which he enjoys in this life, as his desert and inheritance, and supposes lie may justly claim them, unless he be guilty of some flagrant enormity, or atrocious violation of the laws of man or of morality. If he think that his nature demands, and his worth deserves, pleasure and prosperity in this world, and immortal happiness in the next. And if another with meek contrition and On Penitential Affection. 299 and humble gratitude confess, that all he receives, and all he hopes for, is the free unmerited gift of our beneficent Almighty Father, that he is corrupt by nature, prone to evil, sold under sin, tliat under the ad- ministration of rigid justice, he could expect no comfort in this Jife, and could have no hope in the next, but that through the sufferings, death, and mediation of Jesus Christ, through faith in his merits, and obedience to his word, he hopes his sins may be pardoned, and that he shall at length be received into the mansions of eternal bliss. Tell ?nc, uhich of them will love him most ? SERMON SERMON XIX. ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. St. Luke xxiw 11. Their words seemed to them as idle tales, and thei^ believed them not. Whatever influence the doctrine and conduct of our Saviour might have had on his disciples during his abode with them on earth ; and however strong might have been their faith, and sanguine their hopes, while they beheld him healing disease with a touch, and stilling the tempest by his word : yet he was no sooner apprehended and delivered into the hands of the magistrate as a criminal, than the}/ all forsook him : unable to bear this ap- parent subversion of their hopes, this seemingly entire defeat of their master's power and authority, they were struck with 302 On the Resurrcctian of Christ. with dismay and astonishment: and at the tina! ruin of his cause as they esteemed it by his crucifixion, thej dispersed in despair, or if they met to bewail their misfortune, it was sccretlij for fear of the Jezn's : having now no dependance on their Lord who had died and was buried,. and who, they supposed, was unable to afford protection to his disciples ; as he had himself suffered every pain and insult Tv'hich human power could execute, or malignant cruelty invejit. So sui^k, indeed, was their confidence, and so languid their faith in their crucified Redeemer, that when the women returned, who had carried to the sepulchre spices to embalm his body, and reported that he was risen, and that they had seen a vision of angels, ■ their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. This slowness of heart in the disciples to believe the resurrection of our Saviour may be accounted for by considering the perplexed state of their minds and cir- cumstances, and their entire relinquish- ment of hope. They had, it seems, aown, required of him a sign, seeing that he did these things, he replied, destroy this temple, and in three dai/s I zcill raise it up : no one can doubt, or deny, that this j)redicted his resurrection from the grave, and was an express avowal of divine authority; for the Evangelist immediately subjoins, But he spake of the temple of his hodij, which was, indeed, the most holy temple that ever was, or could be raised, since in it dxoelt the fullness of the godhead : and the disciples applied these words, and construed them as a prophecy and pro- mise of his return to life again, for in the verse immediately following we read, that when he was risen from the dead, they re- inembered, that he had said this unto them, and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had said. The resurrection of our Saviour afibrd^ the strongest assurance that we ourselves shall not for ever sleep in the chambers of X 4 death. SI 2 On the Resurrection of Clirist. death, and furnishes the most serious and important reflections on the consequences of a life to come, and a resurrection to judgment. Without an express revelation from Heaven confirmed to us by the resurrection of Christ, we could have had no proof that we should ever return to life again, after having once sunk to the grave: however strong and probable might have been the conjecture, from the state of mankind in this world, we could have liad no positive evidence of it. Reason, perhaps, might, and we read, did, some- times discover a distant gleam, did cherish an uncertain hope of immortality; the promiscuous, and seemingly unequal dis- tribution of happiness, the frequent pro- sperity of the wicked, and the calamities of the good, afforded to contemplative minds a strong presumption, that there must be anotlier world : here all things, cqme alike to all, there ii> one event to the riMeous and to the mchcc], vice is often triumphant, and virtue oppressed ; it is necessary, therefore, for the vindication of divine justice, that there should be another On the Resurrection of Christ. 313 another existence, Avhere there will be an equitable distribution of reward, and a just discrimination of punishment. A stedfast expectation of that awful day in which we shall hear the voice of the Son of man, and come forth either to the resurrection of life or of damnation, cannot fail to have the most powerful influence on the opinions of men, their conduct, and their minds. If we look forward to another world with hope, that hope must be built on the inestimable benefits which Christ has purchased for us ; we know, assuredly, that without holiness no man shall see the Lord, and that holiness is only to be attained by a prompt obedience to the commands of our Redeemer, and a fixt belief in his almighty name. We are told in scripture that by no other name, but that of Jesus Christ, can we be saved. If we have trusted in the name or in- fluence of any other, if we have built up a fabric of ostentatious virtue, and relied on any thing we have done ; at the resur- rection we shall find ourselves miserably deceived ; our pile of goodness will share the 214 On the 'Resurrection of Christ. the fate of that house which tlie foolish man built upon the sand. If we have been ambitious only of being esteemed good moral characters, and taken credit to ourselves that our neighbours haye suffered from us no injury; if Ave claim or expect reward for having been honest in our dealings, and honourable in our Jives : if we think morality, even of the purest nature, will avail us any thing at the bar of Christ, or at all counter-balance neglect of his worship, or disbelief of his word; the day of resurrection will be to us a day of dismay, and anguish, and shame. If we have gone farther, and have so far trifled with the truths of the Gospel, as to deride the religion of our Saviour, and thereby made a mock at his sufferings, and impiously scofled at his name ; our misery before our final de- parture from this world will, probabl>% begin ; no rebel against his Maker was ever undaunted while he lingered on tlie bed of death; all props from earthly heroism at the hour of dissolution are vain, the derider of Christianity is then left On the Resurrect io7i of Christ. 315 left destitute of those supports which were wont to spur him on to a contempt of his Redeemer, and to glory in his crime : his spirits are tlicn feeble and confused, to him who in health regarded religion as an idle tale, futurity must be blind, as he lived without faith, without hope he can- not but die : and at the resurrection how will his sou] sink within him, how severe will be his anguish ! when he shall behold arrayed in all his glory the Creator he abandoned, the Redeemer he despised, the God he wished to crush ; no longer the meek and suffering Jesus, the patient and pitying Saviour : but an awful, up- right, and impartial judge, from whose enquiring eye are no crimes concealed, no thoughts unknown, no secrets hid ; at whose keen glance the guilty tremble, at the loud pealing of whose voice the sinner stands appalled, and even the sons of righteousness are dumb. But here I pause, nor dare I attempt to paint the tremendous visage of avenging omnipo- tence. Afar 5l6 On the Resurrection of Christ, A far different prospect does the resur- rection afford to them, who hy patient coU" iinuance in well doing, seek for glory and honour and immortality : to those who have endeavoured to obey the precepts of Christ, and to form their lives by his example, the day of retribution has no terrors, relying on the merits and media- tion of Jesus Christ, they look up with humble confidence to the throne of grace, and behold with meek devotion and stedfast hope, their Saviour distributing equal justice tempered with mercy : aware that their own merits can never entitle them to the joys of Heaven, they rest their hopes of salvation on the mercy of their judge; and through his clemency alone they hope to receive those crowns of glory which he purchased for them by his blood, when their souls will thrill with extacy at the publication of these words of comfort. Come ye blessed children of my Father, receive the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the zcorld. SERMON SERMON XX. St. Matthew, xvi. latter part of verse 3. O ye hi/poc?it€s, ye oan discaii the face of the sky, but can ye not discern the signs of the times. After the fame of our Saviour's mira- cles and preaching had extended over the whole land of Judea, and all men had been struck with the coincidence of his character with the pi'ophecies relating to the promised Messiah : the Pharisees and Sadducees came to him, tempting him, and desired that he would shew them a sign from heaven. This they did, not in the expectation that he would gratify them in their request, but in the hope * Fast Sermon, tS07. that 318 On the Sigfts of the Times. that he would fail in the attempt, and thus furnish them with indubitable evidence of the imposition of his character, and the fallacy of the people's hopes. He an- swered them with a familiar allusion to the common prognostics of the weather, and reprehended them for their pi'etended knowledge of the seasons, the uncertainty of which has been ever provei bial. and their ignorance of the sio-ns of that ex- traordinary season which gave birth to events long before predicted, at that very time ardently expected, and on which the hopes, not only of the Jews, but of re- mote and dissimilar nations had been fixed. The signs of the advent of the Messiah had been distinctly foretold, and were then clearly visible, the prophecies were literally accomplishing, the scepter was departing from Judah, and the period appointed by the prophet Daniel was supposed, and justly to have elapsed. Yet was their incredulity insuperable : the Jews suffered the punishment of their perverseness, and were soon after over- whelmed in long menaced destruction, and On the Sfgm of the Times. SlQ and unparalleled distress. The Jewish people, at the time of" the destruction of Jerusalem, were besotted with wickedness, and blinded by excess. The signs of the coming of the Son of man were direct and clear, and blazoned in their siglit; yet they remained impenitent, obstinate, and unconvinced. Thinking men of every age since the destruction of the state, and the dispersion of the Jewish nation, have reprobated their perverseness, wondered at their incredulity, and have affected to treat their conduct and opinions as the effects of the most unexampled blindness, infatuation, and unbelief. Their conduct, however, and their prejudices, were as much the natural consequences of habit and vicious propensities, as of any mistake "^in the prophecies, and we are compelled sometimes to confess by a recollection of the practice of past ages, and a due reflection on our own, that the behaviour and the fate of the Jews were not Jess natural, than dreadful, were not more closely coincident with former predictions, than tho proper consequence^ 3^0 On the Signa of the Times. consequence of corruption, and tlid merited penalty of guilt. It is not, however, to call your attention to the fate or corruption of the Jewish nation, that we are now assembled, but to deprecate the vengeance of Heaven for our own evil practices, to confess guilt, and beseech the protection of the Al- mighty, as much to prevent us from fall- ing into vice and habitual depravity, as to implore success in our national enter- prises, the security of our domestic com- forts, and the preservation of our common- wealth. I know of no greater induce- ment to practise holiness, to enter earnestly into supplications for divine mercy and forgiveness, and to consider justly the rational grounds of national and religious hope, than a review of the signs of the times, of these eventful times, big with. the fate of empires, stained with apostacy, and loaded with guilt. If we had been left without any pre- diction of apostacy, if we lived in an age when every thing passed, and was con- ducted in regular uniformity, and events happened On the Sigfis of the Timesi 391 happened in ordinary and common course, a consideration of the prophecies relating to the latter times would be unseasonable and unavailing, as all conjectures of the future will be in some measure fanciful^ and must be ever uncertain. But the signs of these times are so marked and uncommon, and so unaccountable from any ground of reason or nature, that the most indifferent among us is prompted to enquire whether such events as have of late years past before us, and are no^v filling us with alarm and astonishment, were ever expected, whether there ever lived any set of men, or any single man, whose fancy conceived, or who ever ventured to predict^ the fall of ancient and seemingly stable governments, an almost general defection from Christianity, and a period of triumphant infidelity and crime. That such men have lived, that such times have been predicted* no one can be ignorant who is acquainted with his Bible ; and it is only necessary to enquire whether their predictions have been ac- Y complished. 322 Oil the Signs of the Times, complisbed, or are now accomplishing, whether they seem yet remote, and to b© expected in a future age, or whether the events appear to be near us, and ar© fulfilling in our own. We need not search deep into the sacred volume to discover predictions, of which the events now passing before our eyes appear to be ac- complishments. The first and most pro- minent feature in the class of prophecies which remain to be fulfilled, as well as that which commands particular attention, is conceived in the words of our Saviour. It has been the general belief in all nations and ages of Christendom, that the pro- phecy which our Saviour uttered before his last entrance into Jerusalem had a double intention, a two-fold application, and related as much to the end of the world, the consummation of all things, as to the circumstances of the destruction of the holy city, the disperson of the Jewish people, and the ruin of the Jewish statye. And however absurd would be the con- duct, to give up ourselves to anxiety and despair, to relinquish all attention to secular On the Signs of the Times. 323 secular concerns, and leave our temporal interests to chance and disorder, yet it would evince obstinacy as inveterate, security as false, and, perhaps, 1 may say, infidelity as sinful, to deny that the face of the political ski/ is darkened with signs portentous to every nation in the universe, destructive to their peace, indefinable in their consequences, and surpassing all human calculation. We hear of wars, and of rumours of wars : of wars not entered into, and con- ducted to obtain or defend a disputed territory, to secure hereditary succession, or establish national superiority, but of wars, the motives and consequences of which are the extinction of national exist- ence, the attainment of universal empire, and the extermination of independent states. That wars of recent date, and those which are now waging before us, are permitted by divine Providence wc are sure ; how far they may tend to the accomplishment of prophecy, how far they may be directed by the guidance of Almighty wisdom, it is not tor us to say, Y 2 or 324 On the Sigiis of the Times, or to conjecture. Because the armies of our enemies are commanded, and, per- haps, it may not be unfair to affirm, generally consist of those whose cruelty and crimes have astonished the nations of Europe, and have tarnished the name and character of man, we must not cherish the hope that therefore their arms are unassisted, that therefore their aims are obnoxious to the supreme Governor of the world, and cannot be ultimately crowned with success. The same may be said of them, and, probably, with equal propriety, that God declared by the mouth of Moses to the people of Israel, 7iot for thy right- eousness, or for the uprightness of thy heart, dost thou go to possess their land ; but for the ziickedness of these nations, the Lord thy God doth drive them out from before thee. And it is certain, that the wickedness of the nations which have suffered most from the arms of invaders has been great and notorious. Without being biassed by the belief and opinions of Protestants, that these calamities have been produced ohietly by the errors, and are the proper consequences On the Signs of the Titnes. S2j consequences of tlie corruptions of the papacy, which, indeed, the present war may seem in some measure to contradict, we may safely aver that every people which have been overrun by the arms of our enemies have been famous for apos- tacy, have produced many champions of infidelity, and have nurtured, and been seduced by, the disciples of a false philo- sophy, subversive of the honour, and hostile to the religion of Christ. It was principally in the countries which are now drinking the bitter waters of affliction, that those schools and societies were formed, whose object, and too often whose successful employment, it was to crush the religion of our Saviour, and to rear in its stead systems of a false and specious morality, which gave birth to, and sup- ported, those pernicious doctrines that have fostered the spirit of discontent, anarchy, and misrule, by which the pre- sent times are distinguished, and which has deluged the continent ofEurope with wars, massacres, and outrages, unpre- cedented in history, and such as language Y 3 has 526 ' On the Signs of the Times* lias not power, nor humanity the nerves to describe. It is in consequence of the doctrines edited by tliese societies, that mens hearts are now failing them for fear. It is in consequence of plans formed by the disciples of modern ethics, misnamed pliilosoph}^ that these signs have appeared on the earth, distress of nations, with per- plenti/. It is, we trust, in consequence of this nation's general, I should rejoice to have said universal, rejection of these impious doctrines, that we have hitherto been spared from the swords, the insults, and rapine, of our enemies, and that the Almighty has not yet given us ever as apreij unto llieir teeth. I3ut the manners and conversation of our own people too closely correspond with the character given by the apostles of the latter times, to suffer us to claim an exemption from the general charge of apostacy ; and are of themselves sufficient to fill the pious with lamentation, and the considerate with dread. We have not only to regret, that in our age perilous times arc come, but that the behaviour and 3 • conversation On the Signs of the Times. 527 conversation of the world at large evince a lukewarmness of religion, a decay of piety, and a want of zeal for the Christian faith. Into what company of those who profess themselves Christians can we enter in which a thankfulness of the Almighty protection is expressed ; in which, if a subject of a religious tendency is by any chance started, if an instance of the merciful kindness of Providence is nar- rated, is not immediately superseded by the garrulity of the frivilous, or if pursued and tolerated is not soon checked by the coldness of disgust. Is not this a proof, that the men of tlie present generation are lovers of their ownselves, unthankful^ unholy^ high-minded, lovers of pleasure, more than lovers of God. This inaptitude to ascribe unto God the honour due unto his name, this reluctance to engage in serious conversation, is too universal, too cha- racteristic of the present age to escape the observation of any one ; and it is this indifference to every subject pertaining to God and righteousness, that renders days of abstinence particularly necessary. An unwilHngness StS On the Signs of the Times. unwillingness to own, and to rely on the superintendence of God, is not less com- mon than impious, and betrays a hardiness of soul, a blindness to every thing relating to godliness, that cannot but give pain to every considerate mind : and this too amidst multiplied and continual evidences of an over-ruling Providence. Eight days have not yet passed away, since our own neighbourhood witnessed the power and displeasure of him, " who rides in the " whirlwind, and directs the storm*;" since the fury of the elements afforded a melancholy proof of Almighty correction, of the vanity of human security, and the futility of human hope. Our shores are still strewed with fragments of the most perfect models of mortal invention, the most compacted structures of art. It would be folly, it would be arrogance, it would be little less than absolute atheism, to deny that these were not the visitations of unerring Justice, that they were in- stances of the power of the highest, the * February 18, 1807. manifttet On the Signs of the Times, 329 manifest dispensations of Providence, and, it may be, the warnings of woe. With equal facility could the Ruler of the universe have swept this whole land with the besom of destruction, and filled the heart of every inhabitant with consterna- tion and dismay. Have we a settled con- fidence, a well grounded hope, that this shall not be our fate "^ Are we entitled to think, or to persuade ourselves, that this nation is not reserved as the last, the most terrible example of Almighty vengeance ? We do, indeed, annually assemble to appease the justice, and sue for the mercy of God. But do we afford any proof that our hearts become more pure, are our manners more amiable, our disposi- tions more charitable, our lives more vir- tuous, or our corruptions less ? There are not a few among us, who cannot remember a year, with but one single exception, that we have not been called together as a whole people, to bewail our infirmities, to confess our guilty practices, to promise obedience for the future as well implore forgiveness for the past. Have 330 On the Sig7is of the Times. Have these days of abstinence, and na- tional contrition, bad their proper effects, in rendering us move humble, more pious,- more strongly impressed with the necessity of the protection of God, of more uniform obedience, and of reformation of heart? How these questions can be answered, our own consciences can best tell. It surely behoves us to confess not only in this day of national humiliation, but in stedfast contrition and humility, and in our private as well as public devotions, that although we have been visited beyond other nations with many spiritual and temporal blessings we have forgotten, that it is God's hand from which they flow, and that he would by goodness and long suffering lead us to repentance. Let us not gaze with stupid wonder, but look with awful reverence, and a hope of divine protection, on the Signs of the Times. Let us earnestly implore our beneficent and Almighty Father to " give us all grace to " walk in the ways of our holy profession, " that he may delight to dwell among us, " and to do us good : and that his holy " worship On the Signs of the Times ^ 331 " worship and service, which we now *' enjoy, may, through his Providence and *' mighty protection, be continued to us, " and our posterity in tliis his house for " ever. Grant this, O Lord, for Jesus *' Christ's sake, our only Mediator and ** Advocate." THE END. yriated by Law and Gilt>:rt, St. John's-S^aare, CleikcaweU. BOOKS pri77 fed for Y. C. and 3. RiviNGxdN, No.62f St. PauFs Chiirch-Tjard. LECTURES on the ACTS of the APOSTLES, delivered, in the Parish Church of Stockton-upon-Tees, during Lent, in the Years 1803, 1804, 1805, and 1806". By the Rev. John'Bue\vster, ^LA. Redor of Redmarshall, Durham. In two \oiunies, Octavo, with three Maps, illustrating the Travels of the Apostles. Price, in boards, lis. The iMEDITATlONS of a RECLUSE: chiefly on Re- ligious Subjects. By the Rev. John Buewster, M. A. The third Edition, " in one Volunie, Octavo. Price, in boards, 7s. The WORKS of the Right Hon. ED?^IUND BURKE. In eight Volumes, Octavo. Price, in boards, 21. I6's. A COLLECTION of SONGS, Moral, Sentimental, Instructive, and Amusing; selected and revised by the Rev. Jamks Plumptke, INL A. Fellow of Clare-hall. Elegantly printed in tv.-o large Volumes, 12nio. Price, in boards, 14s. These Volumes contain the words of upwards of five hundred Songs; some of them original, but principally selected from the v.oiks of the most approved writers, divested of every thing which has any tendency to indecency and profaneuels."' With an introductory Letter, and a new Preface. 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