i MAY 31 ^969 ^ j sec- S. E R I\I O N S ON THE DIGNITY OF M A N, THE VALUE OF THE OBJECTS PRIXCIPALLY RELATl-XG TO H UMA N II A PFI NE SS. Fccm the German of thejite REV. GEORGE JOACHIM ZOLLIKOFER, Miniller ot the Relbriued Congregation at Leipfick. Bi/ the llev. William Toohr, F.R,S\ IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: PRINTED BV A. STRAHAN, PRINTERS STREET, FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND O, REES, PATERNOSTER ROW, MDCCCli. CONTENTS OF THE SECOND V O I. U ^t E. SERMON XXVI. The Valiw of Social and Public Worjhip, p6Al.M xxviL 4. — One thing have I defired of the Lord, which 1 will require : even that I may dwell in the houfe of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to vifit his temple. »----.-«• Page i SERMON XXVn. The Value of Solitude. Mark i. 12.— And immediately the fpirit driveth him into the wildernefs. ----,-----..« 21 SERMON XXVin. The Value of Social Life. Ephes.v. 15, 16. — Sec then that yewjdk circumfpeftly, not as fools, but as wife, redeeming the time, becaufe the days are evil. 4» iv CONTENT^, SERMON XXIX. ' The Value of Social Life, continued. Ethes. v. 15, 16. — Sec that ye walk circumfpeftly, not as fools^ but as wife, redeeming the time, bccaufe the days arc evil. 63 SERMON XXX. The Value of a Bufy Life. RoM.xii. II. — Not flothful in bufiiicfs. ... i- - . 85 SERMON XXXI. The Value of Commerce, . Isaiah xxiii. 8. — Whofe merchants are princes, whofe traffickers are the honourable of the earth. ------. 102 SERMON XXXII. The Value of a Country-Life, or the edifying Sojourn in the Country, Matth. xiv. 13. — Jefus departed thence into a defart place, apart. 1x8 SERMON XXXIII. The Value of Domejiic Happinefs, Matth. xxI. 17. — And he left them, and went out of the city into Bethany, and he lodged there 135 C O N T E N T S, V SERMON XXXIV. The Value of Fricndjiyip. pROV. xviil. 2^. — There .is a friend that flickcth clofer than a brother. '57 SERMON XXXV. The Value of civil and religious Liberty. I. Cor. vii. 23. — Be not ye the fervants of men. - - - iSi SERMON XXXVI. The Value of Learning. I Kings x. 8 Happy are thy rrten, happy are thefe thy ferrants, which ftand continually before thee, and that hear thy wifdom. 208 SERMON XXXVII. The Value of more enlightened Times. Ephes. v. 8. — Now are you light in the Lord : walk as childrea ©flight - - . _ . 232 SERMON XXXVIII. . The Value of Afflictions and Tribulations. HEBREWS xii. II. — No chafteningfor theprefent fecmeth to be joyous, but grievous : neverthelefs, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteoufnefs unto them which are exercifed thereby. ---.r. •----«--- 26d vj CONTENTS. SERMON XXXlX. The Value of a good Reputaiiofi* Proverbs xxii. i. — A good name is rather to be chofen thari great riches, and loving favour rather than filver or gold. 284 SERMON XL. Of Conveffton from a badCourfe of Lfe. Luke xv. iR, 19 — I vi^ill arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him, Father, I hare finned againft heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy fon ; make me as one of thy hired fervants. ---.--... ^07 SERMON XLL The Bleffednefs of Beneficence* Acts xx. 35,— It is more bleffed to give than to receive.* 350 SERMON XLIL The Value of Human Happinefs itfelf Psalm civ. 24.— The earth is full of thy riches* - • - 354. SERMON XLUL Settlement of our Notions concerning Human Happinefs, Luke xii. 15. — A man's life confifteth not in the abundance of the things which he poffefFcth • 376 CONTENTS. vii SERMON XLIV. The Difference between 'Pro/pent^ and Happincfs, Prov. iv. 20, 21, 2 2 — My fon, attend to my words; incline th-iie ear unto my fayings. Let them not depart from thine eyes ; keep them in the midft of thine heart. For they are Hfc unto thofe that find them, and health to all their flelh. 393 SERMON XLV. View of the Sources of Htvnan Happinefs, Psalm xxxiv. 8. — Oh tafte and fee how gracious the Lord is ! SERMON XLVr. The ChriJIian Doclrine concerning Happinefs, Matth.v. 2, 3, 4 — ic. — And he opened his mouth and taught them, faying, BlefTed are the poor in fpirit : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. BlefTed are they that mourn : for they fhall be comforted. Blefled are the meek : for they fliall in- herit the earth. BlefTed are they which do hunger and thirfl after righteoufnefs : for they fhall be filled. BlefTed are the merciful : for they fhall obtain mercy. BlefTed are the pure ia heart : for they fhall fee God. BlefTed are the peace-makers : for they fhall be called the children of God. BlefTed are they which are perfecuted for righteoufnefs' fake : for theirs is the ^ingdopi of heaven. - ,.,. 427 SERMON XI.VII. Argiunents againfl Vanity. pHJLipp. ji. 3.-^L€t nothing he ^one through Tain glory. 44J viii CONTENTS. SERMON XLVIII. Rules for rightly appretiating the Value of Things. Psalm iv. 6 — There be many that fay, Who will flicw us any good ? -- 467 SERMON XLIX. The Vanity of all Earthly Things. EcCLES. i. a. — Vanity of vanities, faith the preacher, vanity of vanities, all is vanity. ----..-.-- 484 SERMON L. Of the pradical Charader of Jefus Chrijl, Philipp. ii. 5. — Let this mind be in you, which was alfo in Chrift Jelus 504 SERMON LI. Of the Imitation of the Example of jfefus. Philipp. ii. 5. — Let this mind be in you, which was alfo iii Chrift Jefus. »__.-.-------j29 SERMON LIL Of the Pafioral Office. Ephesians iv. 1 1.— He gave fome — pailors and teachers. 548 SERMON SERMON XX\1. The Value of Social and Public Worjhip, OGOD, to meditate on thee, to worfhlp thee, to have communion with thee, how honourable, how blefled an employment ! How far it exalts us above the other inhabitants of the duft ! How near it brings us to thy worfhipers in heaven, and to thee thyfeif, who art all in all both to them and to us ! Yes, in meditating on thee, we meditate on all that is good, that is great, that is exalted, that is vene- rable and amiable ! In praying to thee, v/e pray to the creator and fovereign of the univerfe, the wife and benign ruler, the gracious father, the great benefador of us and of all mankind ! In having communion with thee, we have communion with the eternal, inexhauflible fource of all light, of all life, of all happinefs ! In employing ourfelves in thy fervice, we feel the whole dignity of the man and of the chriftian j feel that we are thy offspring, VOL. u. 9 thy 2 TKE VALUE OF thy children, that we are capable of high employ- ments, and are ordained by thee for fuch ! Oh might then the fentiment of thee and of communion with thee ever be and procure to us what it may and fliould be and procure to mankind and to chrif- tians ! Oh might we never enter the place which is confecrated to this divine employment v/ithout reve- rence, and never leave it without a blefling ! Let us then, o Omniprefent, let us here ever intimately feel thy prefence, and ever powerfully experience the influences of thy holy fpirit ! Let light and life, and energy and comfort flow down upon us from thy throne, when in the fentiment of our manifold and urgent necefllties, we here invoke thee for fup- plies of thy bounty. Let it be our conftant aim in aflembling here in thy prefence, ever more plainly and convincingly to difcern the truth, to confirm ourfelves in the belief in thee and in thy fon Jefus, ever to advance in piety and goodnefs, in content and fatisfaftion, to confolidate our hopes, to bring us nearer to our vocation, and to become conflantly more capable of the fuperior life; and let this be the fruit we ihall reap from our attendance in this place ! Teach us, to that end, ever to gain jufter conceptions of the value of focial and public wor- ship, ever higher to prize it ; and ever to make a more faithful application of it. Blefs even now our refledlions on thefe important objects, and hearken to our prayer, through Jefus Chrift, in whofe name we farther addrefs thee, faying ; Our father, &c. SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. PSALM XXVU. 4. One tiling have I defired of the Lord, which I will requiie: even that I may dwell in the houfe of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to vifit hie ■temple. OOCIAL and public worfhip, as employing both *^ the mind and the heart of man, and that with the important do6lrines of religion, is a matter en- tirely peculiar to chrillianity. Every religion had it-s rites, its folemnities, its feftivals ; all of them aflem* bled their confefTors at flated times, and on certain occafions, in their temples and at the altars of their gods ; all of them fpread fear and terror, more or lefs, about them; all of them employed and dazzled the fenfes of their worfhipers with more or lefs pomp and magnificence. But in none of them was found and wholefome nourifhment adminiftered to the mind and heart of thinking and fentimentalperfons; none provided for their information and inftrudion, for their moral improvement, for their comfort and repofe. No where was man made acquainted with his end and origin, informed of his duties, and guided in his conduft ; no where taught the rational worihip and adoration of God; no where incited to virtue and directed to happinefs. All this is the peculiar boaft of the religion of Jefus. And how B 2 great 4 , THE VALUE OP great are not thefe advantages ! Who can efllmatc all the good that has accrued from them, and ftill accrues ? — I am fenfible that public and congrega- tional worfhip, even where it is the leail perverted from its proper objed, is not always productive of what it might effed. It is adminillered by men ; and who knows not how frequently the beft and mo ft excellent inftitutions of creatures, fo liable to fall into error, may be mifapplied ? And as it is difpenfed by men, fo is it likewife attended and ufed by men ; and how eafily do we not lofe fight of the true end of things, and make them adminifler to our indolence or our pafTions ! But is it reafonable to deny any thing its value, becaufe of eventual abufe ? No ; public and focial worfhip is undoubt- edly of very great value, be it as frequently and as fhamefully abufed as it may. It is, and will ever re- main an excellert means of inftrudion, of improve- ment, of comfort, of awakening and exercifmg devotion and piety, of ferving the caufe of hu- manity, and of promoting univerfal and brotherly love. And, if the pfalmifl in our text could luilly fay: " One thing have I defired of the Lord, which I will require : even that I may dwell in the houfe of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to vifit his temple,'* v/e, chriflians, have greater, far greater, reafon to prize our national, eflabhfhed, focial wor- fhip, and to frequent it with inward fatisfadion and delight ! Of this I heartily hope to convince you in SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. 5 tny prefent difcourfe. To this end, let me examine with you, the value of focial and public Avorfliip. But let us, in the refearch proceed with the greater caution and impartiality, as we are very liable to be mifled in it by fupcrflition and prejudice. Let us, therefore, at the fame time fee, as well, wherein the value of worfiiip cannot confift, as likewife wherein it aftually does confifl ; or, as well what it cannot be and cannot perform,, as what it really is and does afford. Social and public worfhip, as well as all worfliip in general, has no value whatever as an ultimate end, but only as a means to fome higher purpofe. As eating and drinking, bodily motion and exercif^^ are not ends, but means of preferving our terrefiirial life, of eftablifhing our health, and of improving our faculties j fo likewife inftru6Hon and refledion, all worfhip and exercifes of piety, are no more than means of nourilhing our fpirit, of infpiring us v/ith defire and ability to goodnefs, and thereby of pro- moting our perfedion and happinefs. The fame holds good of private worfhip, and of all that we obferve and pradife in divine fervice. We there worfhip God, not for the fake of worfhiping him ; for he wants not our homage and our fervice : but we worfhip him, from the deep and lively fenfe we have of his greatnefs and perfedion, and our de- pendance upon him, to invigorate ever}'- pious fenti- ment, to vanquifh every turbulent pafTion, to difmifs every corroding care, ?.nd to increafe our readinefs B 3 and 6 THE VALUE OF and aptitude to do what is juft and good, what is generous and great. We there pray, not for the fake of praying ; for God knows what we want, ^nd does continually what is befl: : but we pray, for the fake of elevating our mind, of purifying and compofing our heart, and of rendering ourfelves fitter for the mercy of God, and more fufceptible of the influence of his fpirit. We allow ourfelves to be in- ftrucled there in our duti^, in the defign of our exiftence, and in the will of the Moft High, not for the fake of being inflrufled in thefe matters : but that we may the better fulfil our duties, more cer- tainly anfwer the end of our being, and more faith- fully comply with the will of our Lord. We there refleft upon the doftrines of religion and chriflianity, not for the fake of reflefting on them, but to expe- rlence their force to our tranquillity and amendment by thefe refleftions. W^e there renew our moft fa- cred refolves, our moft folemn vows, not fo much for the fake of renewing them, as to imprint them the deeper in our hearts, and to reduce them to praftice with more fer\^our and zeal. We there make a public profeffion of our belief and our hope, not for th^e fake of making this profeflion, but there- by to confirm ourfelves in that faith, to ftrengthen our confidence in thofe promifes, and to live more conformably to them both. And thus are the feveral acts of worftiip not ends but means. We ufe them, not on their own account, but for the good effeds and confequences they may and ought to have. In SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. ^ In thefe, and not in thofe, confifts all the value of worfliip. It poflefles this vaUie, fecondly, only in fo far as It is rational, fo far as it is founded on truth, on jufl conceptions of God and his will and our relations towards him, and on fuch difpofitions as are con- fonant to thefe conceptions ; only in fo far as it em- ploys the underflanding and the heart of the wor* Ihiper in a manner worthy of his nature, and the ends of his creation. The worfhip of the chriflian muft be rational, his adoration of God muft be in fpirit and in truth. A worfliip which only occupies and amufes the fenfes, which dazzles or beguiles by art and ornament, by pomp and found, which con- fifts in empty ceremonies and rites, affords nothing for the mind to think on, and communicates no true, no generous, no noble feelings to the heart ; fuch a worfliip can poflefs no higher value than other thea- trical exhibitions, which attract the eyes of the mul- titude, and furnifli them with entertainment or dif- traftion. Sdll lefs real value does a fuperllitious worfliip poflefs, which gives us low and falfe con- ceptions of the deity ; which fpreads fervile fears and flavifli terror among its followers ; conceals the Father of mankind fronv their figlit, and fubfliitutes in his place an aufl:ere and implacable defpot, an in- exorable judge ; at the fame time flattering their paflions, emancipating them from indifpenfable duties, prefendng them with the palliatives of falfe repofe, and attributing a force and efficacy to mere B 4 out- 3 THE VALUE Of outward a6lions and bodily exercifes, which thev have not and cannot have. It is written, " In vain do they worfhip me, teaching for doclrines the commandments of men/* As Httle advantage, thirdly, can we derive from our worfliip, if we have not regard to the difpofition of mind in which we frequent it, the views we have therein, and the ufe to which we apply it. It is not our attendance on its offices, but the folid purport of this attendance, that renders it agreeable to God, and a fource of bleffings to ourfelves. A£ls of de- votion do not operate upon us Hke the incantations of magic, without our participation or concurrence ; they improve us neither againfl our will, nor without our co-operation j they are performed in the prefence of God, the fearcher of hearts ; and he is not to be impofed on by outward appearance, like men. No, only the confcioufnefs and the confideration, the earneflnefs and the reflection, with which we per- form our devotions ; only reverence for God, love towards him, delight and confidence in him; the defire to pleafe and to refemble him ; only pofitive purpofes of becoming wifer and better : only thefe can confer any real value on our ads of devotion. Hence therefore it follows, that our worfhip can neither repair our former tranfgrefTions, nor fupply the place of a virtuous and pious Ufe, nor procure us particular bleffmgs and teflimonies of favour from God, without regard to its confequences and effeds. He that expeds thefe from divine worfhip, 3t afcribet SOCIAL AND PUBLIC "V^'ORSHIP. 9 afcribes to It a power -which It does not poflefs ; he therefore forms fuperftitious notions both of its de- ftlnation and its value. To fuch an one is applica- ble the addrefs of God- by the prophet. " To what purpofe is the multitude of your facrificcs unto mer'* To what purpofe is the hypocritical reverence you Ihew me? Your worfliip is difagreeable to me, I am weary to bear it. " And when ye fpread forth your hands, 1 v/ill hide mine eyes from you : yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear ; your hands are full of blood;" ycur hearts and your lives are contaminated with vice. No, neither pray- ing, nor fmging, nor communicating, nor keeping feflivals; only adtual amendment, only reftitution cf property unjuflly obtained, only earnefl endeavours to counteract every Idnd of depravity, and to corred it as much as pofTibly, only this can efface our fms, and remove their pernicious effeds from ourfelves and from others. Only redoubled induflry in virtue and piety can in fom^e degree conpenfate for the negligence we have hitherto fliewn. Only inno- cency of heart and probity of life, only uprightnefs and integrity, can render us capable of the favour of God, and partakers of his diftinguifned bleflings. Take heed then, my pious hearers, of expefting from worfhip in general, and from public and fociai worfhip in particular, more than it is able to per- form, and of thus afcribing to it a value which it does not poflefs. Learn rather its true, its peculiar worth, and drive ever more fully to enjoy the benefits lO THE VALUE OF benefits it is able efFeclually to procure you. Wherein then confifls this worth ? What are the benefits it pi*ocures us ? Inflrudion, amendment, ferenity and comfort, the incitement and the exer* cife of devotion, the promotion of humanity, and univerfal brotherly love : this is what we may rea- fonably expe£l from public and focial worfhip. And what a great and, inellimable value mud not this confer upon it ! Firft then initruclion, and that on the mofl im- portant matters, matters of the highefl concern to all mankind ; inflrudion concerning God, his will, our own deftination, our duties, and the way to happinefs ; inftrudion on what God is in regard to us, and what we are in refpect to him, on what we at prefent are, and what we fhall hereafter be ; inftrudion in all that can captivate the curiofity of man and mod agreeably employ both his under- ftanding and his heart. Let thefe inflrudions be as defective as they may; let them be never fo much mingled with error : yet how much is not the knowledge of truth and the conviftion of truth, confidered at large, promoted thereby ! How much light is thus diffufed amongft all clafies and condi- tions of men ! what incitement to refleclion, what diverfified exercife does it not occafion to the mental powers ! One perfon is reminded of what he al- ready knew and believed, and will thus be con- firmed in his knowledge and faith ; another will clearly perceive what was totally concealed from him before. SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. II before, or only floated about in the obfcurer recedes of his mind ; a third will be rendered attentive to fome doctrine of importance, feel the full weight of its truth, and be led to think it over again; a fourth views fome truth he had already difcovered in a clearer light, on a different fide, in other and more various connetlions, and thus acquires a plainer and completer knowledge of it; another combines it with his habitual way of thinking, learns to apply it more pointedly to himfelf, and thus to turn it to the beft account. One is freed from a doubt, and an- other from an error. A carelefs rnd inattentive per- fon is brought to refleft, and indifference is quick- ened into concern. At Icaft fome fort of imprefiion. muff be made of God, of religion, of duty and vir- tue, of our future expeftations, and the ultimate end of man. And how is it poffible for imprelTions fo frequently retouched and repaired to be totally obliterated and effaced? Certainly no truth, no found and wholefome doiSlrine delivered with energy can be delivered abfolutely in vain. They are grains of wheat ftrewn by the fervants of the Lord of the church under his own infpedion, which will fpring lip, fome fooncr, and others later, and produce fruit, more or lefs, according to the richnefs of the foil into which they are caff ; and at the day of the har- vefl it will be feen how well-founded were the hopes of the fower, and how prolific the feed he fowed. Encourage- 1Z THE VALUE OF Encouragement and incitement to duty and virtue is another advantage we may expert from our at- tendance on divine worfliip, and which undoubtedly gives it a great value. And in how many various ways are Vv-e not there incited and encouraged to duty and to virtue! The commands, the promifes, the denunciations of Godj the benefits and example of Jefus; the fitnefs and reafonablenefs of duty; the beauty, the amiablenefs, the necefiity of virtue ; the infamy and pernicious effeds of vice ; the dignity of man, and the dignity of the chrillian; joyful and ter- rifying views of the prefent and the future life ; the inward fentiment of what is right and goodj our own experiences and thofe of others ; felf-love ; defn-e of applaufe ; philanthropy ; hope and fear j life and death ; mifery and happinefs ; what motives to duty and virtue are not here difplayed and en- forced 1 What motives of the human mind not fet in motion ! What emotions of the human heart not excited ! What pafTions are not in unifon with vir- tue and truth ! And what prejudices againfl pradi- cal chriilianity are here left unconquered, what pre- tences of lloth not refuted, what cavils and evafions unanfwered ? And if, in addition to this, the pofli- bility and eafmefs of the m.atter is (hewn, the way and manner in which it is to be performed pointed out, and the bell means provided to that end : muft not all this be productive of good, of much good ; mufl it not be highly advantageous to the performance of dutv. SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. 13 duty, and to the praftice of virtue? muft it not oc- cafion thoufards and thoufands of good fentimcnts and adions amongft mankind ? ■ Indeed experience allows us as little to doubt of it as the nature of the cafe itfelf. No, all do not • depart unimproved from thefe fchools of chriflian wifdom and virtue. Many have to thank them for inducement and excitation to amendment, many for their return to the way of duty, many for precau- tions againa fm, for tafte and inclination to good- nefs. How often does fome truth, important to the religion or the morals of a man, dart- like a pure ray of light into his benighted foul, touch him to the quick, thoroughly affea him with hope or fear, with trouble or with joy ; difcover to him the true ftate of his heart, the real frame of his life ; beget in him the nobleft wifhes, the bed refolutions; accompany him home, attend him in all his affliirs, purfue him in all the companies he frequents, and let him have no reft till he furrender himfelf to its influence, and fully experience its improving and bleffing energy 1 — How many a wicked purpofe is rendered abor- tive, becaufe he who conceived and cherilhed it in his breaft, led by the kindnefs of providence exaaiy to hear fome certain dodrine or precept of religion, particularly fulted to him, delivered with fentiment and force, is ftruck and alarmed by it, brought to refleaion, and moved to an alteration of mind! How many a good and chriftian deed, how many a reconciliation with adverfaries and foes, how many V refolution 14 THE VALUE OF refolution to lead a new life, how many a Hep to- wards virtue, how many ads of liberality have been occafioned by fuch difcourfes and afts of worfhip ! How many fallies of violent, brutal paffions been thus prevented ! And even if thefe efFeds fall out but rarely, if it be only now and then that a •wielded perfon is induced to forfake the error of his ways ; yet who can deny his having been flreng- thened by thefe means in good purpofes, that he has been rouzed to zeal and perfeverance in good- nefs, that he has been made happy in the more lively fentiment of his truly chriftian difpofitions, the comfort of an approving confcience, the aflur- ance of divine approbation and favour, has a fore- tafte of the blefled reward of his fidelity, and thence feels the acquifition of frefh courage and refolution to complete the work he has begun, to purfue his courfe with confidence, and to allow nothing to de- prive him of the prize appointed for him that over- comes ? Yes, it is indifputable, that public and fe- cial worfliip throws the mofl falutary impediments in the way of wickednefs and vice, and prevents numberlefs diforders and crimes in human fociety ; it is not to be denied, that it animates the true chriftian to more ftrenuous efforts in goodnefs and virtue, and keeps him from becoming weary and difheartened in integrity and beneficence. And what great advantages are not thefe ! How much tranquillity and comfort docs not, thirdly, this worfhip diffufe over the hearts of men ! How SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. 1$ How many anxious cares, how many confuming vexations, does it net moderate or remove ! How differently do they not there often learn to judge of the world and their own condition ! How totally different to think of what are ufually termed fuccefs and misfortune ! How much more calmly and re- fignedly to bear their troubles, how much more con- fidently and chearfully to hope in God in the midft of want and mifery, how much more undifmayed to encounter every danger and even death, when all thefe things appear to them in the light of religion and chriflianity, when they have learnt to confider them in their dependency on the will of the all-wife and all-gracious ruler of the world, and in their con- nexion with human perfeftion and happinefs i And when forgivenefs of fms is there anounced to the contrite and returning fmner, the promifes of ailiflance and fupport held out to the feeble, a better and an eternal life difplayed before the wretched, a compen- fation and reward beyond the grave affured to the oppreffed and innoc-ent fufferer, what a heahngbalm, what refrefliment and reftoration, muft not this Ihed into the foul that is thirfting and panting after con> fort! I here addrefs myfelf to your own experience, ye who in fmcerity of heart and defign frequent the public worfhip. Say, my chridian brothers and fif- ters, have ye not often come into the affembly of the worfhipers of God, with heavy hearts and troubled jninds ? Has not often a fecret pain, a forrow of foul. l6 THE VALUE OF foul, attended you thither? Were ye not often languifhing in fearch of comfort and repofe ? and have ye not there often found this comfort, this re- pofe ? Has net the burden that opprefled you, there fallen off from your heart ? Has not a chearful beam proceeded thence, that has enlightened your gloomy path, and Ihewn you an iffue from the labyrinth in which you were involved ? Have ye not often re- turned home, comforted, flrengthened, and revived? — And what well-difpofed chriftian has not there re^ joiced in the paternal love of God, in the fraternal afiedion of Jefus, in his relation towards God and Jefus, in his deftination to a bleffed immortality, in his approximation to the mark of his high calling ; and, in the enjoyment of thcfe delights, has he not learnt to endure, to defpife, to forget all the troubles, all the fufigrings, all the evils of the prefent life ? Oh, who can recount all the comfort and ferenity of mind that mankind have derived from chriftian wor-. fhip, all the tears of forrow and pain which there have ceafed to flow, all the chearful and blefled fen^ fations which have there been taught to rife : what a diminution of human mifery, what an augmenta- tion of human happinefs has not arifen on all hands, in cottages and in palaces, among all claifes and con- ditions of men ; and what an inellimable value muft: not this confer on public worfbip in our fight ! Public and focial worfhip acquires, fourthly, a new value, as it kJndles and enflames our devotion, and gives m.ore life and dignity to our perfonal worfhip. What SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. 1 7 What 13 not the folemn and public worfhip capable of producing, and how much does it often adually produce ! How often does it infpire even the vola- tile and giddy with ferioufnefs, the fcofier with rever- ence, and the infenfible and carelefs with fentiment and refledion ! How readily does it impart fenti- ments ; how principally the fentiments of piety and devotion ! Like an electrical fire they frequently feize on men of the moft different tempers and opi- nions, infufmg into their hearts a fpiritual life. And, if I attend a worfhip where prayer, pfalmody, the difcourfe of the minifler, all combine to imprefs me with pious fentiments and reflections ; where a pro- found filence, a general and continued attention prevails around me, drawing off my mind by de- grees from all outward things, and fixing it entirely on itfelf and on. God; when I there perceive my friends and acquaintance, or even unknown perfons, of every age, either fex, and each condition of life, abforbed in ferious meditation, and impreffed with pious emotions ; when I join there a great aflembly, a whole congregation, humbly proilrate before the be- ing who dwells in heaven, and who fills with his majefly both heaven and earth, imploring grace and mercy and help of him from one mouth ; when I fee them, under a lively fenfe of their weaknefs and their manifold fpiritual wants, open their hearts and minds to the influence of chriflianity and religion, and with eagernefs of foul imbibe light and confola- tion and repof? and pov/er to gccdnefs j when I hear VOL. II. G them l8 THE VALUE OF them celebrate the praifes of the All -bountiful and All-wife for their exiftience aud his bounties, rejoice in their connection with him, and renew their vows of fidelity and obedience : what an impreflion muft it not make upon me ! How forcibly mufl I not ihen feel my own imbecility, my entire dependance on that fovcreign fpirit, how intimately feel his pre- fence ! Plow llrongly feel myfdf penetrated with reverence, with love towards him, with fubmiflion to his will, with confidence in him, with joy at all the inftances of his mercy ! Hovv important mufl: not religion then appear to me ! How light and chearful muil not I there find myfelf, humbling my- felf in the duil, with all my brethren and fillers, high and low, rich and poor, in the prefence of our com- mon creator and father, adoring his infinite greatnefs, and drawing life and happinefs from his fufRciency ! And mufl not this incitement, this ardency of de- votion, though it fhould not always have place iji an equal, and ftill lefs always in a fuperior degree, mufl; it not give a great value to public and focial worfliip ? What a value, in fliort, mmfl: it not receive from hence : that by it the fentiment of the natural equa- lity of mankind and their mutual affinity, is main- tained and invigorated, and that they are brought into fo clofe a connexion and fo intimate a union to- gether by its means i Every thing that is here tranf- aAed -md tar.ght reminds us of our common origin, of our common wants and infirmities, of our com- mon SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. I^ mon deflination. Every thing that paffes here mufl humble the pride of the great, and infpire courage and confidence into them of low degree ; every thing muft promote the interefts of humanity and love. And what binds men more together than the community of faith, of hope, of religious worfhip ? Here we all prefent ourfelves as feeble, dependent creatures, as creatures that are in want of inftrudion, of ability, of fupport and affiftance, who cannot fub- fifl: of themfelves ; all as frail, fmful beings, who are- afking for grace and pity. Here we all humble our- felves before him who only is wife, only mighty, only great, and to whom all men, all nations, all worlds, are as nothing. Here we all eat of the fame bread, drink of the fame cup, and, as the children of one father, all enjoy at one table the repaft of chriflian love. Here the diftindion of rank and dignity falls totally away, or meets with no peculiar regard. We are here, and feel ourfelves, not as powerful or weak, not as fuperior or inferior, but as men, as chriftians; are all fubjeds, all children of God, all the redeemed of Jefus, the prince as the vaflal, the rich as the poor, the learned as the ignorant. The prince now hears himfelf thus addrefled : — Thou art a go4 upon the earth, but thou wilt die like any child of man. Abufe not thy power, for thou haft a mafter, a judge, in heaven, with whom there is no refped of perfons. And the pooreft, the lowcft of the people, is thus at the fame time admonifhed : — Even thou art formed after the image of thy God, thee too hath Jefus re- c 2 deemed 2CJ THE VALUE OF deemed, and thou art immortal ; thee likewlfe an eternal life awaits ; forget not thy dignity, and by a generous and independent condud fhew thyfelf wor- thy of thy origin and thy deftination. — And a divine fervice, which may contribute, and actually does contribute fo much to our inRruclion, to our im- provement, to our repofe, to the exciting and inflam- ing of our devotion, to the advancement of humanity and brotherly love, mufl furely poffefs a great, an ineflimable value. Yes, ever fball ye be hailed, ever blefied fliall ye be of me, ye places confecrated to the adoration of God, ye folemn afl'emblies of his v/orfhipers on earth ! With the profoundell reverence, wdth a, thankful and chearful heart will I enter your gates, and celebrate with my brethren the worthieft, the nobleft folemnities that mankind can perform on earth. Here will I wholly furrender myfelf to the fentiment of what God is and of what he is to me ; and while I fulfil the duties of a worfhiper and a child of God, will at the fame time enjoy the blelTednefs cf being fo. Here will I enter into the clofefl bands of affection with all who know and love God, and Jefus Chrift whom he has fent, and enjoy my own felicity and theirs. Here will I feek nourifhment for my mind and my heart, deeply imprint every lefTon of truth, every word of exhortation, of comfort and peace, that (hall be delivered to me, and thence re- turn to my bufmefs in the world with invigorated powers, more joyfully difcharge every duty of hfe, and SOCIAL AND PUBLIC WORSHIP. 21 and bear every burden of it with more fubmiflive refignation. Here will I take on my pilgrimage, the comforts that refrefli and reflore my foul ; I will confider my way, reprcfent to myfelf the prize for which I am ftriving, and then with new courage pur- fue my courfe. Here will I enjoy in foretafle the , bleffednefs of that better world, where I fliall be fur- rounded by a purer emanation of day, where my faith fhall be changed into fight, where, with the julb made perfect, with fpirits of a fuperior order, I fliall adore him, and celebrate his praifes who lives for ever and ever ! Thefe, my dear brethren, mufh be the fentiments with which you are imprefled by the confidera- tion of the great importance of focial and public worfliip ; thefe the difpofitions and views in which you muft frequent it ; this the generous fruit you will gather from it. So will it conflantly become more eftimable, more venerable, more delightful to you, never be irkfome or unpleafant, and will procure you never-ending felicity and blifs. C3 SERMON XXVII. The Value of Solitude. f~\ GOD, thou haft elevated us to the rank of ^^-^ intelligent beings, made us creatures who have a clear inward .confcioufnefs of themfelves and their condition, who can aft with confideration and from perfpicuoufly know^n principles, who can make ever farther progrefs in wifdom and virtue, who can feel thy being and thy prefence, and have communion with thee the father of fpirits. Oh that we might never miflake thefe our privileges, never leave them unemployed, and conftantly make the beft ufe of them ! We are ftill, alas, oppreffed by the yoke of fenfuality, we flill too often and too eafily are in- duced to withdraw from ourfelves and from thee our creator and father, and wander about, unconfcious of ourfelves, beguiled by fenfual lufts among things that have more femblance than reality ! Alas, but too feldom THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 2^ feldom is it fo bright in our mind, fo filent in our heart, fo quiet around us, that we can thoroughly rejoice in thy exiftence and our own, thoroughly feel our fupei-ior deftination, and think and act in complete confidence with it ! O God, the father of our fpirits, grant us then more to feel, more highly to prize our connexion with thee, and render us more fufceptible of thy influence upon us, more fre- quently to colledt our fcattered thoughts, to feek re- tirement, to exercife ourfelves more in reflecdon and thus to come nearer to thee and to our fuperior ap- pointment. Teach us to be jealous of the preroga- tive we poiTefs as intelligent creatures, and let us find fo much pleafure and happinefs in the proper appli- cation of it, that we may never be v/anting in incite- ment and inchnati jn to it. Strengthen alio now our mind that it may perceive the truth intended to in- form and to improve it, in a perfpicuous light ; let it diffipate our prejudices and errors, and enable us by its luflre, more fecurely and happily to continue and to complete our journey of life. We afti it of thee in the name of Jefus, faying : Our father, &c. c 4 24 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE, MARK, 1. 12. And nnmediately the fpirit driveth him into the wiiderncfs, /CONVERSE with mankind, and converfe with ^^ onefelf ; the gaiaties of focial, and the feriouf. nefs of folitary life ; diffufive, beneficent activity among many, and the application of the entire at- tention on onefelf ; vivacity in bufmefs and vivacity in refieftion ; noife and filence ; diffipation and re- colledion ; are always to be interchangeably follow, ed, if we would attain the true end of our being, ful- fil our feveral duties, and arrive at a certain degree cf wdfdom and virtue. If we confine our exiilence to either fort exclufively of the other, we fhall neg- lect either our own mofl important concerns, or the concerns of our brethren. In the uninterrupted buille of bufmefs and diffipation, we may eafily for- get ourfelves ; and by too fevere a purfuit of folitary filence, wc may as eafily become indifferent and in- fenfible to ethers. But,- if we combine them botl} together, we iliall live as much for others as for our- felves, promote as far as we are able our own feli- city no lefs than that of other men, and fliall neither be feduccd to folly by levity and habitual diflradion, nor to mifanthropy by the gloomy and querulous auflerity TIIJi VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 25 auflerity of the reclufe. Two fide-ways, by which too many have miffed of the proper end of their be- ing, and (till millake it, with only this difference^ that now the one and then the other has been more thronged and frequented. At prefent, at leafl in our regions of the world, thofe times are pafl, when the foHtary life, devoted to meditation, was fo highly efteemed, and a total feclufion from the world was thought the fole means of accefs to heaven. Now the oppofite path is more univerfally trodden : com- pany is. every thing; and filence and retirement are fallen, with the majority, into evil report. But whe- ther they merit this report ? Whether, under pro- per limitations, they ftiil are not worthy of the ufe and efleem of the fage and the chriftian ? Whetlier we have not caufe, in this particular likewife, to imi- tate our faviour Jefus, and like him to be led of the fpirit, to be led by the fentiment of our fpiritual wants, into the wildernefs, or into retirement ? This, my pious hearers, is what we fliall now endeavour to difcufs. I mean to difcourfe to you on the value and the difcreet ufe of folitude ; firft flating the fubjefl:, then fhewing its utility, and laftly adding a few rules for the prudent employment of it. By the folitude I recommend, I mean not a life paffed in abfolute feclufion from all commerce with the world and all intercourfe with mankind, not the life of the coenobite, nor that of the hermit. Such a life is plainly in oppofition to the deftination and felicity of man, and at mofl is adapted only to the feeble. 26 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. feeble, fuch as the weight of misfortunes has entirely borne down and rendered unfit for the bufinefs and joys of fecial life. And he who thinks by fuch a life to ferve God, or to promote the falvation of his foul, neither knows God, nor underflands what the term of faving his foul implies, and cannot be acquit- ted of the charge of fupcrfUtion. ITo, to ferve God means, from love and obedience to him, to ferve his creatures of the human race, and to fulfil all the du- , ties of life ; and the faving of the foul confifls in the application of all our faculties and powers to do the will of our creator ; and by the befl and molt ufeful m.eans to effect as much good with them as we always are able. • No, the folitude I mean is every place, every re- treat, where a man, for a longer or a fl:iorter time, is alone and apart from the company of other per- sons, that he may be at liberty to make reflexions on himfelf and his mxre important concerns, whe- iL be in a fmall room of his houfe, or in the fpacious and open plain ; in the blaze of the meridian fun, or by the mikkr light of the notlurnal moon. Nei- ther darknefs nor confinement, but filcnce and free- dom from fuch matters and abfence of fuch perfons, as might interrupt or dillurb our thoughts, is the ef- fence of folitude. The more extenfive however the fphere of our fight and fentiment ; the farther our eyes can reach ; the freer our brcafl can refpire ; the more our heart can comprehend, and the more un- impeded it may expand : fo much the more produc- tive T?IE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 2/ tive to US is folitiide in great, in generous, in pious thoughts and fentiments ; fo much the more likely is it to be and to procure us what it ought to be and to procure. Even the prefence of a mind in har- mony with ours, of "a heart purfuing and loving fiich objeds as our own, is frequently, not only no hin- drance, but rather an advantage to it. To fuch a folitude we afcribe great worth and manifold utility. And this for various reafons. In folitude we think, more fedately, more undif- turbed and free ; and thinldng, m.y pious hearers, is the grand prerogative of man, the foundation of his utmoft perfection and happinefs. In fociety, and in the midfl of our affairs, it frequently happens, that, in this refpeft, we are more pafHve than active. We muft take the impreffions of outward things as they fall upon us ; our mental reprefentations will be ex- aftly modelled on what furrounds as, on whatever we fee and hear, on what we have to do. They com- monly glide away from before us as quickly as they arife ; one preiTes upon the other ; their impetuous torrent carries us away with it. But feldom can we chufe from among them ; but feldom can we detain fuch as are mod agreeable and important to us ; fel- dom can we difmifs fuch as promife us neither profit nor pleafure ; but feldom can we diltinguirn between truth and falfehaod, between reality and appearance. "We there collect more materials for thought, than we are able to give our mental application to in all its force. When 28 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. When we enter into retirement ; Avhen we pafs into folitude : we are then, in regard of thought, more a£live than paffive. We a6l more fi-om ourfelves, and by our proper energy, than allow other things to a6l upon us. Our attention is iefs interrupted, is more continued and ftrong. We may fele£t from among the objects of our reflection ; tarry as long as we will with thofe that, in prefent circumftances, are mofl profitable and pleafant ; confider them on more fides than one, in more than one combination ; com- pare them with our farther perceptions, with our other thoughts ; apply them more calmly to ourfelves ; imprint them deeper in our memory and our heart ; and revolve them fo long and in fuch various ways, till they diifufe a pure light upon our minds, and fhed a genial warmth into our hearts, and thus be- come fo fixed that they cannot be forgotten. Thus may we, by filent, folitary refledtion, one while ex- tend and rectify certain notions in religion, at ano- ther unravel feme difficulties which perplexed our mind on the theatre of the world, now quiet our troubles and cares by a clearer conception of their caufes, and the befl grounds of comfort, then collect new forces for the performance of our duty, and for making progrefs on the way of perfection, then again, by more attentively confidering our worldly affairs and concerns, learn more wifdom and prudence for carrying them on. At all events, we exercife and llrengthen our mental powers ; many obfcurities that render our path hard to purine, difperfe and retire ; and THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 29- and we return, with more chearfulnefs and content, to aftive and fecial life. The fphere of our fight becomes enlarged by refleftion ; we have learnt to furvey more objeds, and to conneft them together ; we carry with us a clearer fight, a jufter judgment, and firmer principles, into the world wherein we live and ad ; and are then able, even amidll various dif- tra6:ions, fo much the longer to arrefl our attention, and to think and determine more rightly, in propor- tion as we have accuilomed ourfclves to this exercife in retirement. In the filence of folitude, we have, fecondly, a more intimate confcioufnefs of ourfe Ives, of our ex- iftence, of our faculties, of our dignity. How often arid how eafily do we fc^rget ourfelves in the hurry of bufmefs, in the diflraclions of company, in the eddy of a buftling life ! How apt are v/e there to exift far more in others than in ourfelves, to efteem far more the judgments and approbation of others, than the judgment and approb'dtion of our hearts, take far more pains to give fatisfaftion to others than to fatisfy ourfelves, rejoice much more in being thought wife and good, rich and great, by others, than in the intimate conviction that we intrinricaily are fo ! But, the more a man exifts and hves in public and the lefs to himfelf: fo much the lefs frequently and lefs perfeftly does he enjoy his life ; fo much the more does it refemble a dream ; and fo much the more eafily will he be deceived by every error and appearance that oifers. Whereas ^Q THF VALUE OF SOLITUDE. Whereas in folitude, my dear brethren, our mind, as it were, returns home ; there (he colleds her fcat- tercd forces, and concentrates them within herfelf. There we wake, as it were, from a dream ; there we feparate ourfelves from all that is without us and is not properly our own ; there we feparate our very thoughts from that which thinks within us. There we intimately feel, that we are, that we live, that we think, that we are intelligent, free, fpontaneoufly- acting creatures, capable of great things, immortal. And what a bleifed fentiment is not this ! It is the joyful fentiment of one awakening from a trance, v/hofe fenfes had been fall locked up, who had lod all arbitrary movement, all confcioufnefs, and now opens his eyes to the clear light of day, is fenfible to- his internal faculties, exerts them freely and with perfplcuous confcioufnefs, and, imprefled with thefe delicious fcnfations, pralfes his great preferver, that he flill exiils and hves, and can in fpirit raife hiuifelf to him ! How much nobler, how much morebleffed is this fentiment of ourfelves and our ability, than the de- ceitful view of cur figure, om- apparel, our outward circumflances, our riches, our borrowed beauties and prerogatives, which fo frequently tranfports us from ourfelves, without allowing us to difcern what aftu- ally belongs to our proper being, what gives us our true worth and dignity, from am.ong the multitude of things to which we falfcly attribute them ! And when thus, in rhe folemn hour of folitude, the fenti- zi ment THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 3 1 meht of felf is quick within us ; when thus the daz- zling glare of what is foreign to us, what is only for a fhort period conneded with us, vanifhes from be- fore our eyes ; when thus our mind, as it were, looks into the depths of its nature : what capacities, what powers, what difpofitions for higher perfefticn and happinefs, does it not difcover in itfelf ! With what a lively fentiment is it not then convinced, that its prefent (late is not the complcateft mode of its exig- ence, not the ultimate end of its being ; that it is not and becomes not here, what it may be and become ; that an ever aftive faculty dwells within it, conftant- ly embracing m.ore, and conflantly aiming at remo- ter things, which is ever flruggling to buril its nar- row bounds, and to produce, in other circumllances, in other connedions with tlie vifible and v/ith tlie fpiritual world, totally different effefts, and to pro- cure for itfelf the enjoyment of quite other fatisfac- tions and fruitions ! And what a glorious prefenti- ment is this ! What views it opens of everhiiling being, and of everlafling progrefs ! Yes, then does a man truly rejoice in his exiftence and" his life ; re- joice in them far more than in all the externals that belong to him ; feels his entire vv'orth, his inherent dignity, feels what he is capable of doing and per- forming; and feels himJelf fufficiently flrong to ac- compliih every duty of life, to fuftain its afflidions and troubles, to bear every privation of outward things, and to quit this life itfelf, the firfl ftep of his exiftence, without reluftance, and prefs for- w ard, 32 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. ward, with refolution and ardour, into the fuperiof life. In the filence of folitude, we not only acquire and keep up a more intimate confcioufnefs of ourfelves in general, but we learn llkewife, thirdly, to know ourfelves, and particularly our failings and infirmities,. far better than in the tumult of fociety. "What a number of checks and hindrances does not this fa- lutary knowledge of ourfelves meet v/Ith in focial life 1 Here are multifarious and intricate affairs j there alluring diverfions and fafcinating pleafures, which entirely draw off our attention from ourfelves, and fix it aitos:ether on externals. Here we meet with flatterers, who, from interefted views or from weaknefs and exuberant complaifance, pronounce us to be better than we are ; there partial judges, who think to excufe their own faults and extrava- gancies by juftifying ours. Kere are teftimonies of politenefs and others of triendfliip which bias our judgment of ourfelves and our adions. Here are pre- vailing maxims and culloms ; there fafcinating exam- ples, which prevent us from infpeding our failings and feeling our defefts. On coming into filence, on entering into folitude, the illufions of felf-love difperfe. The attention is fixed en ourfelves : the flatterer holds his peace : no partial or corrupted judge, no civil friend takes our judgment by furprize : the force of example is weakened or evaded : the common excufes lofe all their validity. A man is more familiar with him- felf. THE VALUE OF SOLITUDH:. 33 felf, Inveftigates cloler, fcrutinizes deeper, tries him- felf upon founder principles, and pronounces more impartially on the value of himfclf and his adions. There he will neither be led into error by the dread of betraying himfelf before others, nor by the hope of obtaining from them a more advantageous opinion of him. There felf-conceit gives way to rational felf-love. There nothing is more natural than for a man to afk his own heart : Am I really that for which I am taken ? The wife, the virtuous, the fm- cere, the upright, the beneficent, the well-diipofed, the ufeful man, which I am reputed to be by my friends ? Have I done fo much good, have I per- formed fo much fervice to fociety as they afcribe to me ? Am I a«^:ually exempt from thofe failings, which I know how to conceal in company, and from which I am thought to be exempt ? Are thefe failings fo. infignificant, are they fo unavoidable, fo infeparable from human infirmity, as they are faid to be ? Can I refleft on my felf and on my moral condition with as much complacency, and be as fa- tisfied with myfelf and my condud, when I am not diflurbed in refleding on them, when nothing be- guiles me, nobody flatters me, when I confider what I am and what I do, in the clear light of truth, in the prefence of him who fees in fecret ? Oh how totally diffei-ent, my dear brethren, do we not ap- pear to ourfelves, how many weak places in our heart, how many infradions in our virtue, how many defeds in our befl difpofitions and anions, do VOL. II. D we 34 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. we not then perceive, which we almofl always over- look in the ordinary diffipations of our lives, or only difcern them, as it were, in the lliade ! And mud not fuch difcoveries as thefe be of inellimable mo- ment to us, mull they not render folitude, which enables us to m.ake them, del!s:htfui to us ? But folitude mufl become fliil dearer to us, if we confider, in the fourth place, that we there feel the being of God and his nearnefs, far m.ore intim.ateiy and acutely than it is poffible for us in other cir- cumftances to do. Indeed he is every where prefent, every where near, near to every one of us, he per- vades and animates all, he works in all and by all ; and the fentiment of him never abfolutely forfakes the wife man and the chriftian, even in the noife and hurry of an active and fecial life. He has the Lord alway before him and walks continually in his pre- fence. But how frequently will this greateft, this mod bleifed of all fentiments, be obfcured by the unavoidable diflraftions and bufmelTes which engrofs our whole attention ! How feldom can we entertain it properly, or dwell long enough upon it ! How much oftener is it then only like a feeble, tranfient gleam, or the cold, unfruitful light of the moon, than the ftrong beams of the fun, warming, invigo. rating, illuminating, and enlivening nature ! No, only in the filence of folitude, only in thofe folemn hours and moments, when all around us i» ftill, \vhen we hear nothing in nature but the voice of God, the voice of God in our hearts, the voice t4 of THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 3^/ of God in his word, only there do we learn to ob- ferve the revelations of the deity within us and with- out us, fee ourfclves furrounded with the effedts of his power and goodnefs, and cordially feel that he is not far from every one of us, that he i§ all in all. There our refiedions are perfpicuous and certain : If I be, then God is ; if I be and operate here, then God is and operates here, 15^ whom I fublifl and live. Am I encompaiTed by creatures all around me. by beaudes, by bleffingS and powers ? Then am I encompafyed all around by God, the father of thefe creatures, the fource of thefe beauties and powers, the giver and prefervei* of thefe bounties. Where force, where motion, where life, where intelligence, where freedom and adivity is, there is God, there he reveals himfeif, there he afts ! How nigh, how inexprefTibly nigh then muft he not be to me, and to every thing that is and lives and thinks and moves ! What can I be and think and will and do and enjoy, that does not afford me a demonftration of the exiflence and the prefence of God, without whom nothing is and no- thing will be, nothing can be, and nothing happen? No, I have no need to foar into the heights of heaven, to fearch for him, the Omniprefent, nor to dive into the abyffes of the deep, neither to look for him in the fplendor of the fun nor in the darknefs of the night, neither through the boundlefs regions of the fky nor in the temples of his votaries, neither in this nor in that peculiar fpot of his immeafurable D 2 domain i 36 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDB. domain ; he is in the height and in the depth, ir\ the fplendor of the fun and in the obfcurity of night, among the hymning choirs of fuperior fpirits, and in the midfl of his worfhipers on earth ; he is here and at the fame time there, in me and in each of his creatures, is every where, and every where equally great, equally powerful, equally good, every where perfedion and love itfelf ! Nothing can con- ceal me from his infpedion, nothing deprive me of his vivifying and bleffing influence, nothing of his paternal tendernefs ; nothing remove and part me from him, without whom I fhould not be, and with- out whofe power and will I could not continue for a moment ! — And now when thefe thoughts are (Irong and vigorous in me ; when I thus feel the nearnefs of my God, my creator and father ; feel that I live and move and am in him : what a light muft not then diiFufe itfelf upon all things round me, what brightnefs in my mind ! What are the cares and what the troubles that will not then vanilh away ! What flrife of the pafTions v/ill not then fubfide ! What tumult not fmk into peace ! What hopes, what aflurance, what joy will not animate and pervade my frame ! What a foretafle not blefe- me of purer and everlafling pleafure ! And fhall not the folitude that promifes and procures me fuch advantages be dear to me ? O folemn filence, be thou hailed of me ! Hail, facred folitude ! facred to wifdom, to felf-poffeffion, to fupernal joys, facred to the complacency of God: ever THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE.' 37 ever be thou bleffed of me, ever let me find thee the rellorative, the comfort, the folace of my foul I Take me into thy bofom, when {tunned with the noife of the world and weary of its pleafures, I am only alive to my intelledual wants 1 Oh flied thy mild reviving influence on me, when I feel the wearinefs of the traveller, overtaken by night, while yet a great way from the place he endeavoured to reach, or has had the misfortune to dray from his path ! Shield me from the derifion of the vain, from the unmerited fcom and the uncharitable judgment of the envious, from the melancholy view of the follies, the crimes, and the miferies, which fo often dif- ftgure the fcene of bufy and focial life ! Be thou my fanauary and refting place againft the hoflile at- tacks of infidelity and doubt ; dart light around me when my path is obfcure •, appeafe my fwelling heart, abate the rage of every wild and furious pafiion, eftablilh ferenity in my breaft ; give me to feel the intimate prefence of my creator and father, to tafte the ravilliing joys of exalted devotion, and be to me the gate of heaven ! But, wouldfi: thou, my chriflian friend and bro- ther, wouldft thou that folitude Ihould be and pro- cure to thee what it is and procures to the wife man and the chriflian ; then let the following maxims of prudence be recommended to thee in the ufe of it. Seek not folitude from difguft or mifanthropy ; not that thou mayft give freer fcope to thy fullen and gloomy refleaions, or the furious fallies of thy D -; wounded 38 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. wounded pride, thy affronted vanity ; not for break- ing forth in fad complainis, or for indulging fome fecret forrow or fome unruly paflion ; not for with- drawing thyfelf from thy brethren, for diffolving thy intercourfe with them, and depriving them, as unworthy, of thy fervices and converie. No, this were to profane the folemn ftlence that furrounds thee, -a criminal abufe of fo excellent a means of im- proving and calming thy heart : and every foil) thou committed: there ; every depraved fentimcnt or fen- fation thou indul.,efl: there, will fo much the more degrade thee, as it was more eafy for thee to avoid or to fupprefs it. Seek not folitude, when thy duty, the diity of thy ftation and calling fummons thee to active life, when thy friend, thy brother, is in need of thy fuccour, when thou canft perform fomething ufeful to fociety. To do good is always better than to think well : ufeful employment preferable to the loftieft repofe ; a magnanimous facrifice for the benefit of others more meritorious than the nobleft fentiments. Be- ware then of preferring the pleafures of folitude, in- nocent and refpeftable as they are, to the pleafures of beneficence, and, under the pretence of promot- ing thy own internal perfeftion, to negledt the ad- vancement of the general welfare. Seek not folitude, thirdly, as a punifliment on thyfelf, as a penance for thy numberlefs diffipations and amufements. Thus it would foon become bur- denfome to thee. Thus it could neither be ufeful nor " THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. 39 nor agreeable to thee, and the oppreflive languor that would haunt thee there would foon deliver thee a prey to every fooUfli and dangerous dilTipation and pleafure, that bids fair to free thee from this hateful incumbrance. No, the fentiment of thy fpiritual wants, the fentiment of thy fuperior vocation, the defire of becoming wifcr and better, and of having more communion v/ith God, fhould drive thee into retirement, and fliould direct thy thoughts and thy employment there. It fhould be the nourifhment and recreation of thy mind and heart, the foother of thy cares, the reward of thy induftry and fidelity in bufniefs, thy refrefhment after wearifome afliduity, and thy preparative and ftrengthener to every frefh exertion requifite to thy flation in life. If in thefe views thou enter into folitude, then let thy thoughts and fentiments flow unrepreffed, fo long as they are innocent and good, fuitable to thy prefer t temper of mind and thy immediate neceffities. Lay no reftraint upon thyfelf, unlefs particular pur-* pofes require it. Let the fentiment of thyfelf, the clear internal confcioufnefs of what thou art and doft, be a6live in thee ; hide thee not from thyfelf: repell no fentiment or thought merely becaufe it is flrange or unufual to thee ; let thy mind exert its vigour without reftraint. The more freely, naturally and calmly thou thinkeft and feeleft : the more will the recefles of thy heart difclofe themfelves to thee ; truth will fliine upon thee with a brighter beam ; and the farther advances wilt thou make in felf-know- isdge, in wifdom and virtue. D 4 Laflly, 40 THE VALUE OF SOLITUDE. Laflly, never depart out of folitude without taking with thee into fecial and adtive life fome good and lucid notion, fome noble and pious fcntiment, fome virtuous refolution, or fome ground of comfort. Retirement fhould not be fo much an ultimate end as a means to higher aims. Let not thy attachment to folitude render thee morofe and querulous, dif- fpirited in goodnefs, fullen, or unfocial, fhy and unfriendly to mankind. Return to thy brethren ■with an open countenance, a chearful heart, and with firmer affedion ; and then apply the force thou haft collefted, the perceptions thou haft acquired, ihe ferenity thou haft reftored within thee, the fatif- faflion and hopes thou haft confirmed, the fentiment of the divine prefence and nearnefs wherewith thou haft imprefted thy heart ; apply all thefe to the more ready and chearful profecution of thy bufinefs, to greater circumfpedion in thy conduft, to a happier enjoyment of the bounties of thy God, apply it to the purpofes of beneficence and the advancement of human happinefs. Proceed on thy v/ay tcv/ards the mark of the prize of thy high calling, which now fliines brighter before thee ; proceed undifmayed and firm, and pra£life, as thou goeft, what thou haft learnt in this fchool of wifdom and virtue. So wilt thou completely fulfill thy vocation, and neither be llothful and idle in folitude, nor trifling and negligent in the hurry of the world. ^ SERMON XXVffi. T'he Value of Social Life, f~\ GOD, who art the father of us all, how clofely ^•^ haft thou not conneded us with each other! How intimately, how indiflblubly interwoven our concerns, our wants, our forrows and joys together! No one can difpenfe with others ; no one can be ac- compHfhed and happy for himfelf alone ; every one may be ufeful to others in numerous ways. How were it pofiible for us here, moft merciful father, to miftake thy call to be kindly affedioned one to an- other with brotherly love, and our deftination to fe- cial life ? No, it is thy appointment that we fliould confort together along the path of life, mutually bear each others burdens and facilitate the way to each other, that we fhould commute thy various gifts and blefTings with one another, impart to others of our fubftance and mutually rejoice in the inter- change 42 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. change of benefits. By planting ftrong fecial dif- pofitions in our hearts, what fources of generally ufeful activity and of generous pleafure haft thou not made them ! Oh that no fordid felfifhnefs, no mif- anthropic pafTion might weaken or difturb thefe fources of fatisfaftion and delight ! Might they ever flow more clear and pure, ever ilfue more copioufly, and diffufe around abundance of true happinefs and joy ! Do thou then grant us the underftanding, the wifdom, the integrity and virtue which in this refpect we want. Do thou penetrate and replenijfh our hearts with the gentle, generous, affedionate emo- tions and difpofitions, with the zeal to ferve and benefit others, with that w^arm participation in the profperity and adverfity of all, which alone can con- fer a real value on focial life. Let us more and more plainly perceive and prize this value, and be- have in regard to it as is agreeable to thy will and to our vocation. Blefs to that end the reflections we are now about to begin on that fubjeft. Let us thoroughly com.prehend the leffons of wifdom that are to be delivered to us, impartially apply them to ourfelves, and make a faithful ufe of them in our future conduft. For thefe bleflings we implore thee, fully trufting in the promifes given us by Jefus, and, as his followers, farther addrefs thee, in filial confi- dence, as, Our Father, Sec. TH£ VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFS. 43 I'PHES. V. 15, 10. See then tliat ye walk circumfpedly, not as fools, but as wife, redeeming the time, becaufe the days are e^•il. THERE are bleffings known, efleemed, admired, and ufed by all, and in the ufe of which every perfon finds pleafure and profit, to the ufe of which therefore none need excitation or encouragement, and yet which require a certain recommendation if we would perceive their entire value, ufe them in the beft manner, and obtain as much pleafure and profit from them as they are calculated to afford. Of this kind, undoubtedly, is fecial life. Who does not know and feel that man is formed for intercourfe with his brethren, for communicating to them of what he is and has, for the exchange of his thoughts and fentiments with theirs ? Who has not tailed the pleafures and joys of fecial life, and been charmed with the fweets of them ? Who does not prefer it to abfolute and conftant folitude ? Who then does not find in himfelf fufiicicnt impulfe to the ufe and enjoyment of it ? How feldom is it necef- fary, comparatively fpeaking, to caution our ac- quaintance againfl too flrong a propenfity to retire- ment, or to exhort them to go into company, in the 44 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. the ordinary fenfe of the word ! How much more eafily, and how much more frequently, upon the whole, do we not run into the extreme on this fide than on the other ! But whether this fociability is and procures us all that it might be and procure ? Whether we prize and afFed it, not merely from blind impulfe, not merely to fly from ourfelves, not merely for follow- ing the prevailing fafliion, but on plain and acknow- ledged principles ? Whether we underlland and feel what it is that gives it its really great value ? And whether it is of that value to us, or affords us all thofe fatisfaclions and advantages, which we may feek in it and expecl from it ? Thefe are matters whereon, notwithftanding the univerfally ftrong prcs. penfity to fecial life, perhaps but few people ever re- fieft, and in regard to which probably but few are able to give themfelves a fatisfaftory account. Man is a focial being, fince he naturally polfeffes difpofir tions and capacities for fociety, and finds pleafure in it ; fince he hears fociability praifed, and readily complies with the fafhion that is mofl prevalent at certain tim.es and among particular people. But, whether he be focial in the beft and moft honourable manner to the wife and virtuous man, to the chrif- tian, and reap from his fociable turn the greatefl utility poffible, the moft harmlefs and mofl noble pleafures, about this he too feldom concerns himfelf ; and hence it is that this very inftinft is fo often a burthen, even to its admirers and encomiafls, and fo. feldom THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 45 feldom comes up to their expedations. My defign at prefent is to give you a few directions in refied- ing on fociablenefs, towards a founder judgment and a better ufe of it. Accordingly, we will in- veftigate together the value of focial lire. For more accurately afcertaining it, w^ihall have two queflions to anfwer. The firft is : How mufl focial life be managed in order to render it of a cer- tain value ? The other : What gives it this value, or, wherein confifts the value of it ? Thefe inveftigations will teach us how we are to walk circumfpe«5lly, according to the apoilolical exhorta- tion in our text, and not to behave as fools in regard of focial life, but as wife, adapting ourfelves to times or circumflances, and making the bed ufe of both. Sociablenefs, my pious hearers, is always better than unfociablenefs ; a defective ufe of this natural impulfe, or this propenfity founded in education and improved by intercourfe, is better than the total dif- ufe of it. But all fociablenefs is not rational and chriflian, every kind of focial life is not of great value. Neither all fociablenefs nor every kind of fo- cial life is able to procure us lading advantage and real pleafure. Principally, by the abfence and avoidance of feveral defeats and imperfeftions ; prin- cipally by the prefence and the united activity of feveral good properties and virtues, does focial life become and afford what it may and ought ; by this means does it principally acquire that value which renders it worthy of our high efteem and participa- tion. 4^ THE VALUE Of SOCIAL LIFE. tion. And what are then the good properties, the virtues, we are to bring with us into focial life, and exert therein ; what the faults we have to avoid, if we would have it of great value to us ? Honefty and opennefs of heart is th'e firft good property, the firft virtue we muft introduce v/ith us and exercife in focial life ; to be deilitute of all re- ftraint and all circunifpe£lion, is, on the other hand, the firft fault we mull avoid, and therewith the groffnefs which is its infeparable attendant. To be fociable implies to communicate to one an- other our thoughts, our fentiments, to compare together our opinions and views, to barter them againft each other, and to redtify and improve them by each other. Would you reap this benefit from it, my pious hearers ? Then muft truth be in your difcourfes, in your geftures, in your looks, in the tone of your voice, and in your whole attitude and behaviour ; then muft you actually think and feel what you pretend to think and to feel, be that in reality for which you are defirous to be taken. Then muft you therefore not lock up your thoughts within your own breafts, and not rejed every reflec- tion and fentiment, every opinion Vv^hich is not yet marked with the ftamp of the mode, or the prevail- ing fafhion of the day, and is not thoroughly and univerfally current ; then muft you not feduloufly ftrive to conceal yourfelf from others ; not torment yourfelf with a fcrupulofity that kills all the vivacity and fprightlinefs of converfation, at every word you utter. THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 47 Utter, every fentiment that arifes in youf bofom, every feature of your face, every gefture of your body, as if you were afraid of betraying the true ftate of your mind; then mufl you neither regard focial Hfe as an intercourfe of impoflures, nor ufe it as a fchool of diflimulation. — This would not be a fair, honourable and obliging commutation of what we are and have, but an artful, and fraudulent in- tercourfe, impoling upon others what we are not and do not poflefs, and yet would appear to be and to have. By this means focial life would be turned into a low farce; and what value could it then be of to thinking and fenfible men ? Beware, however, of imagining that honefly and opennefs of heart is incompatible with circumfpe6lion. and prudence. Though you communicate freely and honeilly with others, you have no need on that account to repofe a blind confidence in all you meet; to difclofe to every one the inmoll thoughts and fen- timents of your heart. Though you do not dif- femble, do not give yourfelf out for better than you are, you are not therefore unnecelTanly to reveal all your infirmities and failings. Though you fay to others nothing but what you think and feel, you need not therefore diredly tell every one whatever you think and whatever you feel. Though you fhun the anxiety of exceffive fcrupulofity about whatever you fpeak and do, you need not therefore fpeak and act \dthout prudence and circunifoection. Other- 48 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. Otherwife you will injure many, give offence to many, keep numbers of weak but well-intentioned perlons aloof from you, prevent many good defigns, but not yet ripe for execution, from coming to effed:, caufe the truth to be fufpe£ted which is not comprehenfibie to every one, and bring contempt on your ill-timed expreilions of fentiment. Your frank- nefs will become folly, and your fmcerity degenerate into rudenefs. The ufe of a generous freedom is another good property, another virtue, which v/e mufh take witli us and difplay in focial life ; abfolute licentioufnefs and effrontery, on the other hand, is another fault we mull avoid. Would you run no rifk of finding focial life burdenfome to you ; would you have it to be not fo much labour and toil as refrefhment and recreation : then, by all means, you fhould breathe freely, think freely, judge freely, a£l freely ; you fhould venture, in mofl cafes, to foUov/ your own innocent ' humour and your irreproachable inclinations ; you fliould not decline to appear what you are, and to do what you find agreeable ; you fhould not think yourfelf bound to comply with the felf-concelt and the humour of others, to model yourfelf by other perfons in all things, and abfolutely to fay and to do nothing but what has been heretofore received and is handed dov/n, or what every one fays and does. This would be introducing an infipid uniformity and an oppreffive languor into focial life. But, THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 49 But, on the other fide, if you would have it as little burdcnfome and difagreeable to your company as to youifclf ; then you muft not pretend to prelide alone, not conflantly lay down the law, not always endeavour to arrange and controul the pleafures, the affairs, and the connections of others ; you muft allow others the fame liberty you ufe yourfelf, and they allow, make them the fame little: facrifices of complaifance and indulgence whch they at other times make you ; and therefore interchangeably direct and obey, now follow others, and then be followed. In ihort, you muft fet bounds to the ufe of your freedom, whenever it would be injuri- ous to others, or they might reafonably take offence at it ; particularly whenever it might have a ten- dency to lead the younger members of fociety into error or fm. The unHmited ufe of one's liberty in focial intercourfe is criminal licentioufnefs, is actual tyranny and difgufting arrogance. Graceful, pohte, and agreeable manners are a third requifite which we ftiould carry into focial life, and attend to the obfervance of; artificial con- ftraint, on the contrary, and a ftiff and formal car- riage, ijs a third fault we are to avoid ; and even the chriftian, who in every refpect ought to be the moft accompHflied as well as the beft of men, ftiould not imagine that matters of this kind are indifferent to him, or unworthy of his attention. To be agreeable to others, and even to pleafe by the ex- voL. II. E terior. so THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. terior, is a purpofc of focial life, and one of the principal fources t^f the pleafures it procures us. The eye muft not there be hurt by any thing re- pugnant and ihocking in mien, geftures, or in apparel ; no harfli, difcordant, ihrieking tones muft grate upon the ear ; the tafte for the beautiful muft be fatisfied and entertained, by the natural, the be- coming, the proper, the captivating, in the figure, the pofture, the voice, the garments, and the whole 4emeanor. Would you, my pious hearers, attain and promote^thefe views ; then adorn your perfons, but overload them not with borrowed ornaments : follow the fafliion fo far as is confiilent with pro- priety and a cultivated tafte 5 but run not into the extravagant or ridiculous ; let a graceful eafe and a noble freedom, not an artificial formality, a childifh levity, or an ofFenfive ferocity, be the rule of your m-ovements and outward appearance. Let the tone of your voice be natural and firm and foft, and fuitably modulated to the fubjeQ: of your dif- courfe, but never fo as to become inaudible by an exceliive modefty, or difgufdng by an affefted fua- vity : ftudy to acquire elegant and complacent man- ners, but let ta.em be your ozvn, and not a clofe, fervile, and thereby a ridiculous imitation of ex- traneous behaviour. Whatever relates to decorum and outward addrefs mufl not be the eifed of affec- tation and artifice, but the genuine refult of an in- ward fenfe of the beautiful; and becoming, andTe- 1 4 ceive THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 5I 1 ceive animation from that fentiment alone; and even the outward deportment, the very garb of wifdom and virtue, mud give a luftre to intrinfic worth, and thus render it more amiable. Benevolence and philanthropy is a fourth good property, a fourth virtue, which we mufl carry with us and pradife in focial life ; envy, coldnefs, in- difference, and jealoufy, on the contrary, or flat- tery and affeded fenfibility, com.pofe a fourth clafs of the faults we fhould there avoid. And, indeed, would you receive pleafure from the countenance of vour brethren, and from your converfation with them ; then mufl you enjoy their welfare, and be delighted with their good fortune. Otherwife every better quality you percei\e in them, ever)^ mark of approbation conferred on them by others, every praife they obtain, mull give you uneafmefs. Would you have your intercourfe with them not irkfome or painful, would you fupport it with pleafure : then mufl you take part in all that relates to them ; you fhould not be indiflerent to whatever befalls them, whether good or bad ; then mufl you rejoice Mith them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. Would you procure fuflenance and employ- ment for your heart by your converfe with others : then mufl you expand it to the feelings of humanity and friendfhip ; then mud you let it be animated by correfpondent eflimation and love ; then mufl felf- interefl, felf-love, and mifanthropy be eradicated E 2 from 52 ' THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. from it. Coldnel'^, indifferency, infenfibilltyj^envy, hatred, are the death of all foclal pleafures ; are what conllantly, more or lefs, impair and weaken thefe fatisfaclions, and are the caufes that difguft, difpleafure and languor fo often prevail in com- pany. But in avoiding tlicfe milfakes, take care not to boaft; of difpofitions which are foreign to you, or to tellify a fenfibility which you do not polfefs. Seek not to compenfate the defects of your benevolence and afieclion by the bafe arts of flattery. Put not on the femblances of gladnefs, or forrow, while your heart neither feels the one nor the other. -Accofli not with pretended friendfhip thofe from whom your heart is averfe. Feign not to flied tears of compallion, of fympathy, of joy, or of tendernefs. Be not lavifli in particular prdteftations of friendfliip to any man that is not the friend of your foul, the confident of your heart. Rarely can artifice conceal the defecls of nature and the want of veracity ; and people in general would rather you let your coldnefs appear, than be duped by the femblance of a cordial concern. Would you avoid thefe errors ; then be chriflians, for the chriitian is animated by unfeigned love ; that is the prime mo- tive of all he thinks and fpeaks and does. Affability is a fifth good quality, which we fhould bring and employ in fociai life ; loquacity, on the contrary, is a fifth failing which we fliould avoid. The THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 53 The affable man entertains, but the loquacious confounds. The former fpeaks with refleftion, and felefts the moft profitable and ligreeable from what he has to fiiy : the latter delivers every thing that comes into his mind without confideration or choice, and Ihakes out his wallet of good things and bad, proper and improper, windy conceits and flupid dreams, in every man's face he meets. The former actually converfes with others 5 and hearkens when they fpeak with the fame attention he, in his turn, requires from them : the latter is conftantly fpeak- ing, never has time to hear, and his perpetual tor- rent of words ruflies over all, like a deluge, de- prives the intelligent of the defire and the opportu- nity to fpcak, and both the wife and the unwife of all power to hear. Tlie former, in fhort, knows the fit time for holding his tongue, and is not afhamed of his filence : the other had rather have recourfe to idle reports, or flandcr, or lies, than allow himfelf to be robbed of the imaginary honour of polfefling an inexhauPdble fund of en- tertainment. Strive therefore to maintain and heighten the pleafures of fociety by a rational and difcreet affa- bility ; but do not heedlefsly fpoil them by loquacity. Learn to hear as well as to fpeak. Diftinguifli your- fclf more by the truth, the juflnefs, the moral good- nefs of what you fay, by the delicacy of your re- marks, and the fit manner in which you produce E 3 them 54 THE VALUE OE SOCIAL LIFE. them, than by the redundant verbofity, and flupi- fying vehemence of your fpeech. Let your dil- courfes be feafoned 'with fait, according to the pre- cept of the apoftle ; let them be ever inofl'enfive, conducive to edification, and conftantly fo ordered, that the claims of truth, of virtue, of religion, of chriitianity, be never infringed. Be not diflreffed in thofe moments when the vivacity of converfation gives place to profound filence, frequently unavoid- able, and often fo. falutary to the fupport and im- provement of reflection. Rather fubmit to the re- proach of unfociablenefs, or of poverty in materials of entertainment, than efcape this reproach at the expence of truth or philanthropy, virtue or de- cprum. Mirth^ harmlefs, temperate mirth, is a fixth good quality v/hich we fliould carry with us into focial life, and put in pradlice there ; diifolute mirth, on the other hand, and extravagant jollity, is a fiXth fault we have to avoid. The former, de- cent mirth, recreates and ftrcngthens both the health of tiie mind and that of the body ; it is really re- creation ; is even worthy of the wife man and the chriftian ; and gives to every thing that is fpoken or tranfac?ced an agreeable afpedt, a heightened value : the other, diffolute mirth, ener\'ates and perplexes the mind, frequently dillorts the body, commonly debafes the character, excludes every finer and more generous fatisfaction, corrupts the tafte, and leaves THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. ^^ leaves nothing behind but confufion and wild uproar. Avoid thefe faults, and acquire thefe good qua- lities, if you would give and receive much real pleafure in focial life. Let ferenity accompany you in the fociety of your brethren ; let gaiety and chearfulnefs animate you there ; let inofFenfive wit and harmlefs raillery feafon your converfation j en- joy allowable and innoxious mirth. But enjoy them with prudent moderation. Beware of every thing that benumbs your reafon, that deprives vou of the confcioufnefs of yourfelf and the refpedl that is due to others, of every thing that diflreffes others or degrades them in their own eyes, Of every thing that is in oppofition to the dignity of the man and tlie chriflian. Rejoice in the Lord alway ; that is, conftantly fo as becomes a chriflian. Only that chearfulnefs which is confident with the thoughts of God and your duty, and which you will refledl upon - with pleafure in the filence of retirement, or at leaft in your hours of folitary meditation will not be a c'aufe of regret ; only this chearfulnefs fhould be approved, fought after, enjoyed, and encouraged by you. If we take with us thefe good qualities, thefe virtues, into focial life, and exercife them there, at the fame time avoiding their oppofite defe£ls ; if therefore fmcerity and franknefs, but not indifcre- tion and rudenefs; generous freedom, but not li- centioufnefs and arrogance ; graceful, refined, and E 4 agreeable $6^ THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. agreeable manners, but not foppery, afFedation and incivility ; benevolence and philanthropy, but not coldnefs and jealoufy, or flattery oiid artificial fenli- biljty ; affability, but not garrulity ; mirth, but not licentioufnefs ; prevail in fucial life : then certainly it has a ^rcat value, it then procures us complete and diverfified pleafures, fohd and lafling utility. However, the more particular (latement of the plea- fures and benefits arifrng from fociabllity, and the arrangement of them in their proper light, as the matter is fo copious, we mull defer to another op- portunity. In the mean time, we will jufl draw a few inferences fforn what has been already re>? marked. Colleci from the foregoing caufes, how it hap* pens that fociety is fo often irkfome to you ; that it fo feldom aufwer^s your expe6;ations ; that you fo firequendy go into company, as it were againft your inclination ; and much oftener leave it, with a heart difTatisfied or totally empty. Either you ycurfelf are deficient in thofe good qualities and virtues, to which focial hfe is indebted for all its value, or you mifs them in others. Either you fulfer yourfelf to -be bverlakcn and beguiled by thofe failings, which diminifii or deflroy the pleafures of fociety, or you are obliged to experience tlie difagreeable ciFefts of them in others. More carefully combat or avoid thcfe failings, more ftrenuouHy flrive to acquire thofe good qualities and virtues, and exer- cife yourfelf in the pradiice of them j fo will the principal THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 57 principal caufes of languor and difguft be certainly banifhed from your converfe with others, and that fource of fatisfadlon and pleafure will be open to you. Learn farther from what has been obferved, that, although, to the beil ufe and moft folid enjoyment of focial life, outward appearance, genteel and agreeable manners, and what is only to be acquired by frequenting polite circles, are very requifite; yet that iikewife thefe things do not conilitute the fole, nor even the principal requihtes ; but that de- pends on good moral quahties, on real virtues, on chriftian difpofitions, on adtual and diftipguilhed merit both of mind and heart. Thence conclude, that he who comes to his brethren with an empty head and a cold heart, has no reafon to expeft either pleafure or profit from his intercourfe with them, and that he who biings with him no difpoli- tion for harmlefs elegant gaiety, can Iikewife have no pretenfions to the enjoyment of fuch fatisfac- ^ions, and has no right to complain at the want of them. Forget not, that the fatisfa6lions and plea- fures of focial life confifl in the mutual interchange and communication of what each perfon pofi'efies and knows that is eminently beautiful, good, and agreeable ; that they depend on a reciprocal giving and receiving ; and that he who has nothing, or but little, to give, is only capable of receiving as little, and has no right to require any more. The greater ftock, therefore, the mere wealth in good thoughts. 5^ THE VALUE OF SOCIAL HFE. thoughts, fentiments, opinions, perceptions, various kinds of knowledge, views and accompliflinients, you take with you, lb much the more opportunity and means will you meet with for exchanging your riches againft the commodities that others poflefs, and at the fame time improve and augment your flock. Lean?, thirdly, from what has been liiid, that the wife, the virtuous man, the real chriilian, whether in fociety or folitude, is in his proper place ; that he conftantly carries about him the mod copious fources of pleafure, which he imparts to others and enjoys himfelf; that he every where runs the leafl hazard of either doing or fuifering wrong, of affronting others or of being affronted by them-; that he is every where eminently good and eminently happy ; and that he has always the means at hand, in his refleding mind, his honed heart, and his contented difpofition, of rendering very indifferent, and in many refpects dilagreeable company, pretty tolerable. His trained under- flanding finds even there more materials for thought, his benevolent and philanthropic heart difcovers there more of the beautiful and the good, over- looks and excufes more failings and follies, enjoys every pleafure and fatisfadlion in greater purity and perfection ; and his temperate defires, his modefl pretenfions, are far more eafily fatisfied, than if he brought with him into company an empty head, a drowzy mind, an auRere or envious eye, a mifan- thropical, •?H£ : yM-.lIiE) .0I?< .SCfCiUX LIFE* 59 rhroplcal, difconteiited heart, or ungoverjaed de- fires aud proud^pretenfions,. Learn, laflly, that folitary. and focial lite muft be mutually interchanged for each other, if we would receive the -greateft poflible advantage from both, and' that the focial alone, without the folitary Hfe, can have no great value. In the filence of folitude we Ihould qualify ourfelves.for the.fatisfaclions and pleafures of fociety. There v/e fhould learn to think judicioufly in the'chriftian fenfe of the term, if we would here fpeak rationally and agreeably. We fhould there colled and adjuft the knowledge, acquire the virtues and the good qualities we are here to ufe, and by which we are to merit efteem and approbation and love. There we fliould form our tafle to the beautiful and good, which we are here to cherifh and apply. We muft there procure our heart that peace, and fill it with thofe benevo- lent, generous fentiments and difpofitions, which we find fo neceflary here, and afford fo much fatis- faclion and delight both to ourfelves and to others. We fliould there fight againft the obftacles and temptations which may here lead us into error or plunge us into guilt. Combine them therefore to- gether, and labour in folitude at the cultivation of your undeiftanding and the improvement of your moral condition, with fo much the more zeal, as it is fo neceflary to you in focial life, that you may be fo much the more ufeful and agreeable to others, and that you may reap again in return more profit and 66 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. and fatisfadion from your intercourfe with them. Yes, believe me, my dear friends, wifdom and virtue and piety, are and continue in all places, at all times, in all circumflances, in domeflic and in focial, as well as in folitary life, the bell, the furell guides of man, the moft folid bails of his fatisfac- tion, the richefl, the only inexhaufdble fources of his pleafure and his happinefs. SERMON XXIX. The Value of S.oda! Life, coiitinued. /^ GOD, how much more might we not be and ^-^ aiFord to others than we actually are and do ! How much more contented and chearful and happy might we live together than it commonly happens ! How much farther proceed in virtue and perfection! What incitement, what means and opportunities to that end haft thou not granted to us in focial life ! Every reciprocal office we perform, every bufmefs that we purfue in common, and every pleafure that we com- monly enjoy, might and fnould at the fame time be an exercife in virtue and an approximation to perfec- tion ; every affiflance we afford our brethren, every fatisfadion we procure them, at the fame time be a benefit and a bleffmg to ourfelves ! Yes, if we fo much more efteemed each other as we might and fhould, fo much more loved each other, fo much more readily ferved each other, fo much more clofely conneded 62 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. conneded our wants and bufinefles and pleafures together ; if fmcerity and aJfFeflion accompanied us in every fociety, there animated all our difcourfes and actions ; if we there looked not merely at our own things, but alTo and flill more on the things of others, and our thoughts and fentiments were con- ftantly in unlfon with our words and deeds : what a fource of virtue and" happinefs would not fociallife be to us ! What a preparation to that better fupe- rior life, thit v/ill unite all wife and good perfons to- gether, that kingdom of reafon and virtue to come ! O God teach us then properly to underfcand and to ufe our advantages. Grant us ever more and more to be kindly affeclioned one to another. Infpire in- to us all a conftantly greater avidity and zeal to ferve and to affiil each other, and to promote our recipro- cal happinefs to the utmoll of our power. Grant that we may ever take a greater intereil in the con- cerns and fortunes of our brethren, and fo cordially rejoice Vv?ith them that do rejoice and weep with them that weep. Let our intercourfe with each other be conftantly more edifying, more ufeful, and the fatis- faftions we mutually enjoy, be conftantly more inno- cent, more generous and fruitful in good works. Gh that in this refped the fpirit of chriftianity nlight animate and guide us, and dignify all that we think and do ! Biefs to this end the confiderations in which we are now to be eitiployed, and hear our prayer through Jefus Ghrift:;^ Our lord, in whofe name we fatther implore thee, faying : Our father, &c. THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFT.. 6^ EFHES. V. 15, 16. See that yc walk circumfpeftly, not as fools, but as wife, redeem- ing the time, becaufe the days are evil. nPHAT focial life has a particular value, that it is -^ Sfood and defirable, is a matter whereof no one doubts ; of this, my pious hearers, our own experi- ence affures us. But how it is to be ordered, what we are to obferve, and what avoid in it, if we defire it to be of great value : and what peculiarly gives it this value, are queftions we do not often enough con- fider, though the folution of them is of the utmoft importance in the ufe and enjoyment of it. The firll of thefe queftions I have anfwered in my preced- ing difcourfe. We thence faw what good qualities-, what virtues, we are to bring with us into focial life, and there employ, and at the fame time what faults we fhould avoid, if we defire it to aiford us real plea- fure and folid advantage. It muft be, namely, ho- nefty and opennefs of heart, but not rudenefs ; ge- nerous freedom, but not licentioufnefs and arrogance; polite, elegant, engaging manners, but not foppifli- nefs or formal and conftrained behaviour ; it muft be benevolence and philanthropy, but not coldnefs and jealoufy, not flatter}^, not artificial fenfibility j it muft ^4 TH£ VALUE OF SOCIAL Lift. be rational and dir*:reet affability, but not babbli-ng and loquacity ; innocent mirth, but not petulance and dilTolute merriment ; that muft prevail in fecial life, if it be to procure us pleafures no lefs diverfified than pul-e," advantages no lefs durable than folid. The queftions that fiill remain to be anfwcred are. What confers this value on focial life? Wherein does it confift ? What is the utility, what are the pleafures it procures us ? To reply exprefsly to thefe queftions is the ob]e£l of my prefent difcourfe. Happy he who fliall learn from it more juflly to prize, and more circumfpedly to ufe, the value of the riches it poffeffes, the means of improvement and happinefs it offers 1 Social life is, lirff, the mod natural and the mofi abundant fource of the knowledge of mankind. And, without the knowledge of charadcers, we can neither be fo ufeful to our brethren nor they to us, as our duty and our common interefl require. The fage> wdio in the filence of retiremxcnt retlecls upon man- kind, and at the fame time narrowly obferves himfelf, may certainly make great progrefs in the knowledge of human nature : he may make acute and juft re- marks on the capacities and powers of the human mind, on the procefs and conneclicn of its ideas, on its prefent and future defdnation, on human paffions, prejudices, virtues and vices ; he may invefligate the motives of human adions, and weigh the intrinfic value of their fentlments and actions. But it is only in intercQurfe with them, it is only in focial life, that he THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. , 6^ he will learn to apply the principles and rules by which he judges of mankind, to a thoufand particu- lar perfons and occurrences, and put their precifion to the proof. There xvill he firft learn to judge of the infinite variety of human minds, the difference of manners, of human difpofitions and tempers^ There he perceives every feature of human nature multi- plied and diverfified a thoufand ways, fees every fa- culty of the human mind as differently exerted ; every human propenfity and pafTion fliewitfelf under the moil variegated and dillimilar afpeds, and pro- duce as manifold and different elTedis. 'There will he find combinations and mixtures of flrength and weaknefs, of wifdom and folly, of good and bad qua- lities, of virtues and failings, which, remote from the adual world, he would fcarcely have thought pofli- ble. And how much mufl not this extend and rec- tify his knowledge of mankind ! How many ph^e- nomena in the moral world will it not elucidate, how many my.O:eries unravel, which v^ere inexplica- ble to him, and which by mere meditation he could never have folved ! In fociety we learn, not only to know manldnd in general, but in particular thofe perfons amono- whom we live, and with whom we are obliged to af* fociate, our acquaintance, our fellow -citizens, our friends, every perfon with whom we are conneded by bufmefs, by office and employment, and by or- dinary affairs. There, on numberlefs occafionsy their principles, their prejudices, their errors, their VOL. II. r , propenfities, 66 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. propenfities, their paflions, their found and their weak fide, difcover themfelves to us by degrees. There we learn to know the mcafure of their mental faculties, the fphere of their comprehcnficn, their way of acting, the proportions of their ftrength or their weaknefs, the avenues to their heart, and the influence \^'hich certain perfons or things have on them. There we may confequenlly learn, hov/ far we may reckon upon them, or whether reckon upon, them at all, trtift ourfelves to them or not, what we have and what we have not to expefl; from them.. And how ufeful, how necelfary to us is this know- ledge, if we would neither deal unjuffcly by ourfelves or others, require neither too much nor too little of any, injure none by ungrounded diflrufl, nor by too much confidence tempt or perplex them, If we would profecute our affairs with prudence and fuccefs, dif- charge our duty towards every man by the fitteft means, make ufe of others to promote our defigns, and in return contribute our means to the advance^ ment of theirs, afford others the mofl ufeful fervices, and obtain fimilar feiTices from them ! . From hov/ many miflakes and errors Ihould we not be faved by fuch a knowledge of mankind ! How much more fpeedily and fecurely, in numberlefs cafes, fhould we not gain our ends ! How much more certainly know where to be firm, and where to yield ; when we fhould go flrait forward, and where reach our aim by a circuitous way ; what maxims we fhc^uld heie Ajfe,-aiid what there, for producmg the befl ef- fects J THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE* €j feels ; how take in h^^nd fuch a cafe, how manage fuch a biifinefs, how deal with fuch a perfon, how behave in fuch an occurrence ! With how much greater eafe and fafety difcharge our duty on one hand, and on the other promote our own lawful and honeft defigns ! How much more good be able to perform, and how much more to enjoy ! And muft not then the focial life that enables us to acquire this knowledge of mankind be of great vakie to us ? Yes, certainly great is its value ! For, at the fame time that it improves us in the knovv^ledge of m.an- kind, it in the fecond place fupplies us with the mod excellent means of exercifmg our mental faculties, of enlarging the fphere of our viev/s, of redifying and bnnging into adion the knowledge we have al- ready acquired, and of increafmg it with nevv'' difco- veries. If we wifh to impart our fentiments on any fubje£l to others, in a manner fatisfadory to them : then we muft reprefent the cafe at the fame time in a more perfpicuous method to ourfelves, and more precifely difcriminate our conceptions of it, and weigh them apart, than we commonly do tvhen we reflecL upon them only for ourfelves. If we would hearken to others with intelligence, perfeftly under- ftand them, and apprehend their opinion or their judgment on anyfubjetSii v/Ith full conviction, or op- pofe them with folid arguments : then muft we more ftrenuoufly exert our attention, and more ftrlctly in- veftigate the matter, than if we wer^ to determine upon it merely for ourfelves by the fuggeftions of F 2 fenfations 68 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LlFt, fenfations that are at orice imperfed and obfciire. If we would accompany others in their train of reflec- tions, or follow them in their arguments : then we mufl: place ourfelves, as it were, in the orbit of their view, and thus alter or enlarge our own. If we be defirous that others fhould readily communicate their reflexions to us ; then mufl we let them fee that we perceive the truth and juflnefs of them, and mufl repay them by fome equivalent thoughts of our own. Generally fpeaking, in focial life we bar- ter our experiences, our perceptions, our knowledge, againfl thofe of others, while all are gainers by this fpecies of traffic, not excepting even him who gives far more than he receives ; becaufe we can never teach others, without learning ourfelves, and becaufe every pcrfon in his line and circumflances has feen much, heard much, experienced much, c©nfidered much, that another in a quite different line, and quite other circumflances, could not have feen, not have heard, not have experienced, and not have thought on. We there learn to fee things on new fides, unobferved by us before, in new conneclions and different relations ; learn to judge of them more liberally, and therefore with lefs pai'tiality and injuf^ tice. We there meet with opportunities of freeing ourfelves from numberlefs prejudices againfl certain flations, or bufmeffcs, or pleafures, or modes of life, or other objefts, by which fuch as live at too great a diflance from the world are fliackled and led into miflake ; Ve learn to compare more things together, to THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 6c) t© comprehend more and to furvey more objeds at once, and thus likevvlfe to judge more juftly of the whole. And how frequently. In foclal life, does not one intellect rouze and excite another ! How often one light kindle another, one brilliant thought elicit ano- ther ! How oft does a fplendid ray of light, a vivid particle of celeftial fire, dart into a mind v/here dark- nefs and cold had fixed their reign, and awaken all its torpid powers to motion and aOivity ! How often does even a penfive and enlightened head there find the folution of fome diiiiculty, or the clue to fome labyrinth of human thought, which it had long been feeking for in vain ! — And at what point does the feries of refledions (lop, that a happy moment, an animated converfation with fome friend to truth, has once given rife to ? What fentiment is there that does not beget a thoufand others ; which does not multiply itfclf a thoufand-fold in every head that* ad- mits and comprehends it ; which does not return upon the mind ten thoufand times, as occafion of- fers, influencing its ideas and judgments ! How fre- quently does it not happen, that fome juft and good fentiment, fome right and proper judgment,fome gene- rous principle, fome important rule of^prudence, fome pious fentinlent or emotion, uttered by the wife man, the chriflian, in converfation with his brethren, how oft does it not fmk, imperceptibly even to ourfelves, into our hearts, and there germinate id concealment, like '4 rich grain of wheat, and fooner or later F 3 " bear 7© THE TALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. bear f' -'ts of wifdom, of virtue, of happinefs, in an increafe of an hn.ndred-fold ! How oft does not fome good word of this kind enlighten, direct, animate, determine us, long after it was mentioned in familiar converfation, and to which we afterwards paid no farther regard, and now prefents itfelf to us in all its energy and truth, as a friend, as a counfellor, as a guide ! Hov; manifold, in fliort, how copious are not the materials we mere colletl for our own reflec- tions, which we may work up afterwards in retire- ment as our views and wants require ! Certainly, if folitude be indifpenfable for giving juftnefs and folir dity, firmnefs and confiftency, to our re{letl:ions ; focial life is no lefs fo for addinp- to the numJcer of iheir objecls, for giving perfr.'cuity to them, and Tor rendering them, ferviccable by their proper applica- tion. A third circumflance with confers a great value on fecial life is this : by it we are brought nearer to- gether, gala the affe6lion, and learn how to obtain more reciprocal fatisfaclion from each other. When a man Hves remote from his fellow -creatures, he is apt to judge too harllily of them ; feldom takes much intereft in what concerns them, and his heart very often retires from them in proportion as he withdraws himfelf from their fociety and converfe. Humanity, human affairs, human mifery, human happinefs, in general and in the aggregate are nothing more than barren ideas, frequently mere words, which leave the Vieart unmoved and cold, uniefs at th^ fame time they THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. '] I they prefent us with lively images of feveral particular perfons who' fliare in this humanity, to whom thefe concerns are of confequencCj who groan under this mifery, or rejoice in this happinefs. Thefe ideas only then become living motives to generous fentiments and adions. But this vivacity and this energy they can fcarcely otherwife acquire than by means of fo- cial life, and the clofer connexion we thereby con- traft v/ith our fellow-creatures. There alone we feel how much we all poflefs in common ; how little cne man can difpenfe with the help of another ; of how^ much value one is to the other ; how important this link is of the great chain which embraces and holds them all together. There we mutually difcover many good qualities, many huippy difpofitions, many capa- cities and abilities, much acutenefs and aptitude, which v/e did not fulpcd: in each other ; and how much rauft not this contribute to increafe our reci- procal efleem and affeQion ! Hov/ much generous fatlsfatStion procure us ! There we frequently hear , individuals of each condition, each age, each fex, each way of life, deliver fuch juft opinions, exprefs ''^ fuch truly chriflian fentiments, and fee them condudl themfelves fo prudently, that our mind energetically feels its affinity, and our heart entirely fympnthizes with them ; and how clofely, how intimately muft not this conneft us together ! Hov/ extenfively pro- mote the caufe of humanity cind brotherly love ! In focial life v/e likevvife learn to thirli iro-e rca- fonably of the weakneffes, the failings, and the aber- r 4 rations 7ii THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. rations of our fellow-niortals ; we learn to confider tliem not only in and of themfelves but in relation to the particular individual, to the fituation and cir- cumdcinces of that individual ; we ieani to judge of them by their grounds and occafions ; we learn to compare them with the good that fo often counter- balances, nay, which fo often outweighs them ; and how much more difpofed mufl not this render us to each other, to bear and to pardon one another in chriilian love, and to admoniih one another in meek-, nefs of fpirit ! By focial life we acquire more fociable difpofitionS|, tranfa£l more focial affairs, enjoy more focial plea- fures and fatisfactions, encourage ourfelves more by common profpefts and expeftations ; and by all this we are undoubtedly brought much clofer together, into ftrider and more intimate connexions, and are therefore, if we be well-difpofed and inclined, far more ready to fcrve and afliil one another, and to promote our mutual happinefs. To the calls of hu- manity, to the arguments of religion and chriftianity, are there fuperadded the particidar impulfes of ac- quaintance and, frequent intercourfe, the facred impulfe of friendlhip, the impulfp of focial plea- fures, and the comLnon honour of fpciety ; and how much more mufl not the united force of all thefe arguments and incentives effeft in the man who does not harden his heart againfl them, than if he were reduced barely to follow the general and fold precepts of reafon ! In THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 7-^ In focial life we have, fourthly, the mofl diverfified opportunities for exercifing ourfelves in many good >lifpofitions and virtues ; and every thing that con- iirms us in good difpofitions and induces us to prac- tife the virtues, is indiiputably of very great vakie. In the ftillnefs of retirement I certainly may and fhould reduce the propenfities of niy heart to order, give them all their proper diredion, kindle and inflame my love for whatever is true and beautiful and good ; that is, to virtue. But only in focial life, in converfe with my brethren, can I confirm my propenfities in this good direction, and fettle my love of truth, oi moral beauty, of virtue, by a ready and faithful obe- dience to its precepts. Good fentiments that remain locked up in the heart, virtues that nevfr exhibit themfelves in aftion, can poffefs no iignal value, hut may cafily appear better and greater than they really are. In focial life they are put to the tell: ; there we are fummoned to bring them forth ; there, in tlic praftice of them, we meet with obflacles to vanquifh, difficulties tq furmount, and oppofitions to encoun- ter ; and the oftener we ftaod out thefe triads, obey thefe fummons, and come off viftorious, or at lead: niaintain our ground, fo much the better and more virtuous fhall we be, and fo much the more fafely may we rely on our virtue. And how various are the opportunities thus afford- ed us in focial life ! Here are weak brethren, whom I may eafily oftend, and who therefore exercife me in circumfpedion in my difcourfes and judgments : there 74 THIi VALUL OF SOCIAL LIFE. there are numb^rlefs clefeds and failings, which call for my little forgivenefie.^, my patience and indulg- ence. Here I perceive emi;ient qualities of mind and heart, the advantages of perfon, of fLation, of fortune, which rajfe others above me, \vhich I Ihould refpeft and admire without jeaioufy or envy, but with in- ward fatisfaction, with hearty delight : there I dif- tinguifh myfelf from ethers by fimilar advantages, receive approbation from others, conciliate their af- feftion ; and this efteem and afredion fhouid neither fubjecl; me to a falie humility, nor lead me into fool- if]-i pride. H>ere I may be furprifed into difpleafure, betrayed into anger, into violence, or ill-humour, and Ihould iearn ficm thence to govern myfelf: there irregular defrrcs and concupifccnce may be ex- cited in me, which I fliould encounter and fiibdue. Here I may be called upon to fpeak with undaunted refolution in fome good caufe, to be afliamed of the truth bef^^re no man, to plead the caufe of theper- fon unjufrly accufed or calumniated, v^^ithout refpeO: of perfons : there v/ill prudence and humanity im- pofe an uninterrupted faience on m.e, bidding me re- prefs any fally of wit, though never fo happy, any jell, though never fo pleafant, which may vex or in- jure another: Here I m.eet with a perverfe being, to whom I mult yield for the fake of peace ; there a quarrelfome perfon, whofe paffion I muft reflrain. Here fome great or proud man, before whom I (hall not cringe ; and there an humble, timid creature, whom I m.uft not defpile or confound. Here a man of THZ VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 75 of lii^h defer!, whom I fliail refpect, though deftitutc of rank or ftrAion ; there an injurious, a contempt- ible perfon, whom I (hall not flatter though fur- rounded bv ;^ littering pomp. Here I have an oppor- tunity to let another iliinc when I might fliino my- fclf : there an opportunity to facrince my own plea- fure and conveniency to the pleivfure and conveni- ency cf another, an-d thus to exercife m-yfelf in ftlf- denial and magnanimity. And who can reckon up ?iii the opportunides and oecafions that prefent them- felves in focial life for confirmin^^ us in fome good fcndment, for excrcifing curfclves in fome virtue, fo^* refifting and weakening fome bjd propenfity, and thereby for promoting cur intrinfic, our fpiiitual per- fedion ? Certainly he who makes his own amend- ment hJs main concern, will find opportunities and incentives to it in every comDanVj in Lis interccurfe with every perfon. No lefs numerous are, fifthly, my p'ous hearers, the opportunities afforded us by fecial life for beinfr nfeful to others in various ways ; and this alfo mud give it a great value in the eyes of the benevolent and alTeflibnate man. And, in reality, how vail: a mul- tiplicity of fervices may we not there render to each other, and thus advance our mutual welfare ! And hov/ important are they not frequently in their con- fcquences ! We are there enabled, by inflruaive, entertaining, and familiar difcourfe, to free one per- fon from an error, to clear up fome doubt to anor ther, and to remove from a third fome fcruple that "/G TilE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIPI. gave him pain, conduvTi: a fourth into the track of truth, and furnifh him with an elucidation of mat- ters it highly concerned him to know. There may we often raife the dejected, encourage the timorous, chear thte defponding, advife tlie wanderer, give re- folution to the irrefolute, information to the ignorant, •^rarmth to the cold, and frefh vigour to the almod expiring. There may v.-e. often bring the giddy to reflection, the flothful to activity, tlie frail to the fen- timent and abhorrence of their failings, comfort the fallen, and animate thofe that are humbled by their fall to a chearful profecution of their courfe. There one while, a prudent and timely admonition, at another an affectioiiate fuggeition, at another a friendly intreaty, at another a difcreet remonflrance, at anoth-sr deferycd praife, at another a powerful \vord of comfort, at another an encouraging and ani- mated addrefs, at another a hearty concurrence in the defiQ^ns, an interefl in the concerns and actions of others, may obviate many faults and tranfgref-. ilons, may ward off many a misfortune, prevent many an uneafmefs, reftrain ^nd abate many a hurtful paf-^ fion, or occafion and reward many a good deed, unite many hearts together, and open to them vari- pus fources of happinefs and joy. There often, by the prefence and operation of eminent!}'' intelligent and virtuous men, the noblcfl qualities of the human heart are difplayed, and purpofes brought to matu- rity in actual effects, which otherwife would have remained in the intention alone. And how much may THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE, 7/ ■Jiiay v;e not there effectuate by our example ! What mfluence may we not obtain on others I When they fee and ^Dbferv^e the beauty, the ccmplaifance, the generofity, the gentlenefs of virtue, in the lineaments of our face, in our judgments, in cur whole deport- ment ; when they perceive the harmony fubfifting in all the parts of our conducu, how tranquil, how fa- tisfied, how chcarful the enjoyment of a good con- fcience and the affurance of the divine approbation render us ; how chearful our hopes, and rational our devotion; hov/ refpedable, how amiable, muil not virtue and piety appear to them ! what an imprelTiott muft not thefe obfervations, this fight, m^ake on the good and the bad, on the ftrong and the weak, on the wavering and the refolute ? What a falutary compundion muft it not excite in one, what a gene- rous emulation in another., what firmjiefs and perfe- verance in a third i Social life, in fhort, when properly ufed, is pro-* duciive of very many innocent and real pleafures to us. The various advantages it procures us, is al- ready the richeft and the pureft fource of them. This greater knowledge of mankind, this extenfion of our perceptions and fphere of obfervation, this approximation of our hearts and minds to each other, this inward fentiment of our mutual relation- fhip, this difcipHne in ' the nobleft fentiments and virtues, this opportunity to do good and to promote felicity ; what pleafure muft it not procure to the friend of truth, the friend of virtue, the friend of manldnd ! 73 THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFH, manldnd 1 And how mziny other fources of plea- fure are not opened to us by the reciprocal confi- dence, the greater freedom, the natural endeavour to pleafe, and to prefent ourfelves on the mofl ad- vantageous fide, the various exertions and proofs of the benevolence of our brethren, the gaiety cf con- verfat^n, the charms of mirth, the many agreeable occupations and amufcments of our fenfes and minds, which are tlie property of focial life and give it all its worth ! And how the prudent, confcious, and fentimental enjoyment of thefe pleafures re- frelhes- and revives our hearts! It recruits our fpirits after finifhing fome laborious work ; it re- wards us for our induftry and fidelity in the prof^- cuiion cf an arduous caihng and the duties of life ; it furnifhes relaxation to our affiduous intelleft, by giving a freer and eafier fcope to its adivity. It is repofe, and yet not an inactive, not an irkfome reft ; it is employment, and yet not violent, not tcilfome bufinefs. We there enjoy our exiftence in cGmmcn, our dillinclions,. our goods, our prof- ped:s and conne£lion§ ; v/e there enjoy in common and with gladncfs of heart, the various gifts and re- creations which providence has granted us to enjoy; we there feel the value of the mutual efleem and affedion and friendftiip, that connects us together ; we there find ourfelves encouraged and recompenfed by the applaufe that is given to our projects, our fentiments and our anions ; we there calm and de- light ourfelves in the idea of the manifold affiflances and THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. ^g and fervices we rfiay expect from each other, and the number of things we may accomplilh by united efforts ; we there find a variety of feed for cur tafte, for our mind ; we there walk a fmooth and pleafant path, bcilrewed -vi'ith flowers, and thus acquire frefh chearfulnefs and vigour for purfuing the rougher and thorny parts of our progrefs. And mud not this be an agreeable mode of exigence, a defirable enjoyment of a diverliiied and fubftantial pleafure ? Muft not the fecial life be of great value which procures all thefe advantages ? Judge then for yourfelves, my dear brethren, what fecial life might be and procure to us, what a fchool of wifdom and virtue, what a fource of hap- pinefs it is capable of being rendered, if we con- flantiy turned it to the bed account : and thence you will conclude, that it is commonly our own fault, when it is comparatively of fmall advantatre to us. In the mean time, you are not to require of it all thefe benefits, all thefe pleafures, in an unin- terrupted fuccefii-on, and always in an equally high degree. In that cafe your expeftations would fei- dom be fully fatisned, and focial life would become ungrateful to you. It is fufficient, that it is adapt- ed to- procure us thefe advantages and pleafures, and a£tuaily does, in a greater or his proportion. Nothing more is requifite for demonft rating us ex- cellent worth. Feel and confefs then this value of fecial life. Rejoice in the natural faculties and difpofitions the 2t Creator S6 tHE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. (Creator has granted you for it. Beware of flight- ing or rejedling what is fo deeply implanted in the nature of man, and is fo well calculated to promote his perfection and happlnefs. Much rather follow this impulfe of your nature. Give into the enjoy- ment of focial life ; but ufe and enjoy it & as be- comes the wife man, the chrifHan; Never let either the affairs of yoiir vocation, or your domeftic du- ties, or your chriftian profcffion, or the prudent pratStice of filent contemplation and rational devotion be injured by it. Call yourfelf frequently to ac- count concerning the temper of mind you carry with you into focial life and in which you partake of it, upon the advantages and pleafures you pro- cure from it. Be not negligently and coldly con- tented with every little advantage, with every trifling pleafure you may there obtaiij by chance* Endeavour to extrad from it all the benefit, all the pleafures it is able to yield. Provide therein not only for your fenfes, but likewife for your heart, for your underftanding, for your reflexions and feelings ; and reap from focial life fuch fruits as may be ferviceable to you in your bufmefs, and fo- lace you In retirement. Beware of confidering fecial life as a matter to the ufe and enjoyment whereof neither attention nor confideration, neither wifdom nor virtue are re- quired, to which every one is equally adapted and prepared, and from which every one ma^ promife hinifeif a like advantage. No, only the attentiv; and' THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. 0 1 and thoughtful, only the good, the fenfible, the virtuous man, can enjoy all the benefits and plea- fures of focial life which we have been confidering, or even in a fuperior degree. The benefits and pleafures which the thoughtlefs, the giddy, the wicked man enjoys therein, are commonly very deceitful, or are of no great value. Connexions that are founded on felf-intereil, on hum.our, or difhoneft proje£ls, are of no long duration ; they are as fuddenly impaired or dillblved as they arofe. Pleafures that proceed not from a good, humane and tender heart, which depend merely on chance, tend folely to paflime, and to foo thing the fenfes ; pleafures wherein virtue and friendlhip are uncon- cerned, may pofTibly be innocent, but can never be defirable in any important degree, never wholly employ the foul in any worthy and honourable manner. No, ufe focial life to the end to which it is adapt- ed and ordained. Strive by it to increafe and to redify your knowledge of manldnd, to enlarge the ' circle of your obfervation, to enrich your flock of ufeful notions, and to confirm you in every worthy fentiment, to difcipline yourfelf in every virtue. There learn to enjoy the intercourfe with your fel- low-creatures ; learn to love them, fhew them your afFedion by numberlefs fervices and various gratifi- cations ; coinmunicate freely and abundantly and generoufly to others of what you pofTefs, if you would partake in what they have to beflow. There VOL. II. Q enjoy SZ THE VALUE OF SOCIAL LIFE. enjoy the pleafure of inflrudive, entertaining dif- courfe, the pleafure of friendlliip and confidence, the pleafure of focial gladnefs in the bounties of God ; exalt and fanftify thefe pleafures, by the chearful recolleftion of God, the donor of them ; and then let the benefits and pleafures you obtain from mutual converfe v/ith your brethren, give you frelh incitement and vigour to the difcharge of every duty of bufy, of domeftic, of folitary life. So will your turn for fociety be not only harmlefs, but every way profitable to you. So will it fit you for entering hereafter, in a higher flate, into a clofer and more blifsful connection with the wifefl and befl of men, and from your intercourfe with them draw ftill more copious portions of perfection and happinefs. ^=y SERMON XXX. The Value of a Bufy Life. OGOD, thou haft ordained us all to an a£Hve5 bufy life. To this end thou haft granted us all the neceflary capacities and powers and thfe ftrongeft incentives. To this end haft thou fub- jedled us to fo many wants, and rendered their de- mands fo urgent in us. To this end haft thou con- neded tis-all fo clofely together, and placed us in fuch a ftate of dependence on each other. It is thy gracious appointment that we, as rational and free agents, flionld enjoy the honour and the pleafure, of being, under thy infpedion and by thy afliftance, the ftay and benefadors of our brethren, and that by doing good we ftiould refemble thee, who from eternity to eternity art always doing good and con- ftantly the beft. Far be it then from us to mifem- ploy thefe advantages or to leave them unemployed! G 2 Far 84^ THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. Far be it from us to addi£t curfelves to a flothfulj, inadive, idle life ! Far be it from us to be ever weary in v/ell-dcing ! No, to ufe the capacities and energies which thou hail imparted to us, and ever to ufe them in the befl and worthiefl: manner, to perform the bufmefs thou had given us to do, and to perform it with diligence and fidehty ; ever to cffed and to promote more good among mankind ; that fhould be our pleafure and our boaft, as the way on v/hich we fhould flrive after perfedion and happinefs ! Strengthen us thyfelf, o merciful God, in thefe good difpofitions, and grant that they may be brought into action in deed and in truth. Let us even now be convinced of the advantage of a condud fo confident with fuch difpofitions, that we may be awakened and powerfully excited to it, or confirmed in it. Blefs in this view our re- flexions on the dodrines that are now to be deliver- ed to us, and hearken to our fupplications, through Jefus Chrill, our bleffed Lord, in whofe name wp farther addrefs thee, faying, as he taught us ; Our father, Sec, T«E VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE* 8^ kOM. Xil. II. Not flothfal in bufinefs. T>UT too many people figh after reft as their -■^ fupreme felicity, complain of the multiplicity of affairs and concerns that prefs upon them ; wifh they were difcharged from them ; long to be freed from all neceflity of employment in any ftated way ; that they might apply their time and their faculties to fome agreeable purfuit, and make fuch a ufe of them as might be moft conformable to their tafte and difpofition. Such men feidom know rightly what it is they would have j they commonly wifh to exchange a few light and very tolerable incum- brances and evils for a far greater burden. Reft is indeed a very defirable objedl j but it confifts not in indolence, in flothful inaction. It is founded on moderation, on regularity, on inward contentmenti It is confiftent with the bufieft life ; and no man underftands and enjoys it lefs than the idle and un* employed. No, to a man that is in poffefiion of his health and faculties, a life of bufmefs is far pre- ferable to one fpcnt without occupation. It pro- cures him infinitely more fatisfa<^ions and pleafures, G 3 and S^ THt \'ALUE OF A BtJSV LIFE^ and tends more to his perfeftion and happinefs. The facred writings therefore, which know our real wants, and befl underftand.what can make us good and happy, every where incite us to induftry, to diligence, to the exertion of our abilities. " Be not flothful in bufmefs,'* fays the apoftle Paul in our text. Perform the bufmefs of your office, of your calling, not from compulfion, not with re- luctance, not in an indolent, negligent way ; but execute it with care and zeal. Let us, my pious hearers, in order to awaken in us a more ready obedience to this apoftolical precept, confider the great valu^ of a bufy life ; and to that end, firfty inquire how fuch a hfe fhould be conducted for having a great value ; and then, what confers this value on it, or wherein it confifts. By a bufy life we are to underftand a life wherein, by our ftation, our office, our calling, and our connexion with other perfons, we have to manage and execute fuch works and bufmefles, moflly ftated, as our time and abilities will allow us to ma- nage and execute. In order that fuch a life may be really and highly valuable to us, in the firfl place, thefe works and bufmefles mufb be proportionate to our powers of mind and body. We fhould know and underftand what we have to do and to manage ; we Ihould poflefs the capacities, the abilities and the fkill> that are requifite ; we ihould, at leaft generally fpeakingj be able to proceed with facility and a certain THE VALUE OE A BUSY LIFE. 87 certain confidence in ourfelves ; we fhould therefore have been long and early exercifed in them, fo as to have acquired a certain dexterity in them. If we are plagued and perplexed and obliged to flop every moment, as it were, in our work and affairs, either through ignorance of what they demand of us, or from hefitations and doubt concerning the befl method of beginning or of profecuting a matter, or from the fentiment of our inability to complete it t fuch a Hfe can indeed be of no great value to us ; it is a burden, an opprefTive burden, under ''^hich we may eafily fink. In order, farther, that a life of bufniefs fhould be highly valuable to us ; the bufmefs we carry on mufl be lawful, and we mufl be fully convinced of the lavt'fulnefs of it. We mufl be able to tranfad: it without inward uneafmefs, without any reproaches of confcience, without any fervile apprehenlion of God. Neither mufl it give us caufe to be afliamed before men ; and we have no occafion to be fo, whenever our work or employment is neither at variance with integrity nor with the love of our neighbour, neither in oppofition to divine nor hu- man laws, let it be in all other refpefts as mean and infignificant as it may. On the contrary, if we are entang-led in affairs which our own confcience difapproves, or which we cannot in diredl terms pronounce to be right ; in affairs on which we dare not befpeak the approbation and blefUng of the fupreme being; and while employed in them G 4 jnuft 88 THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFZ. muft drive oiF all thoughts of him, and his prefence ; in affairs which are held to be degrading and diilionourable by all mtelligent and honefl men, or are reckoned unworthy of the pains and the tipie we bellow upon them : then, indeed, fuch a life has fo much the lefs value for being fo bufy. Affairs which a man is forced to conceal from the face of God, from the world, from himfelf, the fcope and defign whereof he mufl; cover with the veil of fecrecy, of artifice, of mifreprefentation ; of which a man dare not give account to others and fcarcely to himfelf j and from which he has reafcn to fear, fooner or later, difgrace or punifh- ment ; fuch affairs mufl neceffarily embitter the whole life of the wretch that is engaged in them, and can produce nothing but trouble and remorfe» For rendering a bufy life highly valuable, thirdly, regularity fhould prefide in our affairs. We fiiould_ know how one bufmefs follows on another, how they are conjoined together, how one is complicated in the other, how one conduces to the alleviation, the difpatch and the execution of another. We ihould be able to take a jufl, and as far as poffible a complete furvey of the whole, and know deter- minately what we have to do and to provide for in every portion of time, in every place, in every de- partment, in every refpeft. Regularity lightens even the mofl complicated and the mofl trouble- fome affairs. With that they feldom come upon us unawares, feldom find us unprepared j and even the THE VALUE OF A- BUSY LIFE. 89 the accidental and uncxpe6led always find lelfure and room where regularity prevails. Regularity en- ables us to do all things with eafe, compofure, and calmnefs ; and no labour exhaufls us lefs, none bet- ter fucceeds, than what we perform in this temper of mind. On the other hand, where all is in dif- order, there perplexity, contradidion, vexation, and difcord, eflablifn their fway ; there a man knows not where to begin, how to proceed, or when to leave off ; there one bufmefs crowds upon another ; there one is forgotten, and another neglected; there a man will be one while over-hurried, and at an- other overloaded with bufmefs ; there a man has fo many forgotten or neglected aiiairs to recollect, that he can fcarcely attend to the prefent ; there a man mufl at one time exert himfelf till he is fatigued and cxhaufted, and knows not at another what he Ihall firil undertake j there a man has no fixed point to which he tends, and knows not how near he is to the end of his labours ; and all this mufl neceffarily render his bufmefs difagreeable and difficult to him. Would we, laflly, have a life of bufmefs to be of great value to us, then mufl we purfue fuch affairs as we may probably expe£l will be productive of utility to ourfelves or to others ; though it is by no means neceffary that we fhould forefee and previoufly afcertain this utility, or always immediately or vifibly reap from it proportionably to our defires and endea- vours. Conflantly to be running on the courfe at random, and without hopes of reaching the goal, at length 90 THE VALL^E O^' A BUSY LIFE. length mufl weary the moil indefatigable racer. To be always working and never to fee the fruit of our labour advancing to maturity, never to be able to gather it, mufl at length render the mofl induftrious, the mofl perfeverlng workman dull and difpirited. It feldom however happens, and feldom v/ithout our fault, that lawful bufmefs, conduced with prudence, ivith application and regularity, can fail of being ufeful to ourfelves and to others. Only v/e mufl be neither felfifh nor covetous: not look folely to our own advantage, but alfo to the general good; not only to outv/ard, vifible, prefent advantage, but alfo take into the account the remoter good confequences of our affairs, and their influence on our fpiritual perfection; and then, with a very moderate fliare of fuccefs, we can neither fail of an incitement to bufi- nefs, nor of the rewards attending it. If then a life of bufmefs be fo framed, if the affairs incumbent on us be proportionate to our faculties and powers ; if they be innocent and lawful ; if we carry them on with order and regularity ; if we may promJfe ourfelves advantage from them : then we mufl afcribe real and ^eat value to fuch a life; we mull prefer it infinitely to a life of indolence. And now what gives it this value ? Wherein does it confifl? That we may be able to anfwer thefe queflions, we have only to weigh the confe- quences and effefts of a life thus employed. A bufy life is, ■ in the firfl place, the beft, the only fure prefervative from that languor of mind we feel THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. 9I feel whenever time hangs heavy on our hands ; and that languor is inconteftably a grievous burden. Never is the bufy man at a lofs to know how he fhall employ the prefent day, the prefent hour, with what he fliall employ or amufe himfelf. No fooner does he awake from deep but he goes to his daily labour, fees it already before him, and difpofes and conneds the feveral parts of it together. Every period of the day has its particular allotment ; one bufmefs fucceeds another, one is conllantly replaced by the next in order ; every hour brings with i^. as it were, its particular contribution ; and the leifure his affairs allow him, is ufually too fhort to let him fail in the opportunities and means of pafTmg it both pleafantly and profitably. And thus the hours, the days, the weeks, the years elapfe, without ever being tedious, ever being burdenfome to him ; and yet are they by no means vaniflied away ; he knows he has ufed them, that he has employed them 'n^ a lav/ful and beneficial way, that he has turned them to an honed and juft account, and that, in regp.rd to their confequences, they are not loft. — - On the other hand, how unhappy is the indolent man and the loiterer ! How often is he utterly at a lofs to know with what he fliall begin the day, how he fhall pafs the firft, the beft, the moft of its hours ! How anxioufly does he ftrive to divert himfelf! How reftlefs, how difpirited does he run from one objed to another, from one place to another, from one bufinefs to another, now beginning this, then that, finds nothing to his tafle, and is fatisfied with none ! 93 THE VALUE OF A SUSY LirEj none ! How much do his gratifications and plea- fures depend on the moft trifling accidents, and how eafily does the privation of any of his cuftomary dif- fipations and diverfions render him wretched ! How hard is he often put to it, to what dreadful labour is he often reduced, for driving on, or, as he calls it himfelf, for Idlling his time ! How impatiently does he long for the hour when he may lay down the load of dulnefs he has endured all day, and fmk into the arms of fleep, if haply he may even there enjoy repofe! A bufy life is, farther, a fure prefervative from a thoufand fcjllies and fmful excefles, which the man who leads an indolent and lazy life can feldom avoid. He that has no fettled bufmefs, who is con- fequently opprefled and perfecuted by languor of mind, who feels himfelf unhappy, readily falls into every thing that promifes him didraftion, enter- tainment, or pieafure, into any thing from which he may hope for an alleviation of his condi- tion. And, fmce he has fo many hours, whole days and weeks and years to occupy, he need not be nice in chufmg the means and the per- ■ fons that may affifl him in this defign j muft often while away his time with the lowed and muft infipid amufements, and feek a kind of fatisfaftion from the groffeft of pleafures ; and, fmce the better^ the bufy clafs of mankind, neither wifh nor venture to affociate with him, he is generally confined to the company and converfation of fuch as, like him, are a burden to themfelves and to others, who are as ignorant as himfelf how to make a good and worthy THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. 93 ufe of their fi^culties and their time. And from what follies and extravagances can fuch an one be fafe ? Into what folly, into what vice will he not readily plunge, whenever they prcmife him paf- time or fport ? Far different is the cafe with the bufy man, as above defcribed. His bufmefs allows him too little leifure, and gives his mind too manly, too ferious a turn, to let him fall into the temptation of mifapplying the few minutes he has to fpare. The love of order that accompanies him in his affairs, forfakes him not in his periods of re- creation. And chefc, from his good character and conduft, he may pafs in the company of the bcfl and moft deferving perfons, which he necelfarily prefers to the converfatlon of the foolilli and the fri- volous, with men who muft appear to him contemp- tible and noxious. A bufy life is, thirdly, the mod powerful incen-^ tlve, and the befi; means of unfolding our abilities, of difplaying, of exercifmg, and of invigorating our faculties, and accordingly of promoting our real perfedion. Without attention, without confidera- tion, without refleclion, without comparing and conne£ling feveral tilings together, without a con- ilant reference to the pafl and the future, no bufi- nefs that is not merely mechanical can be efFedualiy carried on; and the more complicated, the more multifarious, the more important it is, the more un- yemittedly mull we confine our attention and reflec- tions to it, and keep all our mental powers in adion. Neither 94 THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. Neither are the obftacles and difficulties that accom- pany, more or lefs, every' fpecies of affairs, ever to be conquered, without induftry, without regularity, without perfevering patience, without firmnefs, with- out forefight and prudence. How powerful then muft not the motives of duty, neceffity, profit and honour, be to the application, and not unfrequently to the exertion of our abilities ! And how much farther muft we not proceed in the good, in the befl apphcation of them ; how much more juflly fhall we learn to think ; how much more intelligent, cir- cumfpecl, prudent, difcreet, wary, dextrous and virtuous, fhall we not become ; how much more ufeful to others than we could pofTibly by a lazy and inaftive life ! How much does the man of bufi- nefs learn to comprehend with his underftanding, to retain in his memory, and to execute with his powers ! How rapidly and how eafily does lie fur- yey, as it were at one glance, a long train of events, a whole feries of things ! How juftly does he not hit the point in which they all unite ! How perfpi- cuoufly does he unravel the mofl intricate matters ! How many events and revolutions of things does he not forefee; and how much does he adopt in his plans and projeds, which would frighten the igno- rant or inexperienced, and throw them into pale aflonifhment ! And what obftacles will he not at length overcome, what difficulties will he not van- quifti, by courage and confidence ! And muft not thefe advantages be held for defirable by all men r ",t - Will THfE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. 95 Will they be too dearly purchafed by a bufy, a la- borious life ? Can we exerciie out powers without the exertions to which they are adapted, and can we- flren^then and imDrove them without exercife ? Are capacities and powers, which we pofTefs indeed, but do not manifeft, do not apply, do net know how properly to ufe, of any great value ? Does not our inward fpiritual perfeclion coniift in the fitteft, eafieft, beft, and happiefl ufe, in the greateft poili- ble improvement of them ? Is it not the only fpe- cies of perfection that remains with us for ever ? And fnall we rather let thefe noble powers, powers by which v/e are able to cfTedl fo much, fhall W3 rather let them fleep and ftagnate, than awaken and invigorate them by activity and induftry ? A life of buiinefs is, fourthly, the befl means of being ufeful to others in numberlefs ways, and of having a great and manifold influence on the general welfare. For the fubfiflence and advantage of fociety it is neceiiary that various bufmeffes and works .be executed by its members, and that they be executed with afiiduity and falthfulnefs. The one mull in this manner, and the other in that, provide for the wants, the conveniences, the elegances, and the pleafures of his brethren. The more works and bufi- jieflfes of thefe kinds, therefore, we undertake and complete : fo much the more ufeful are we to fo- ciety; fo much the more ferviceable do v/e render ourfclves to it ; fo much the m.ore ample is the con<- tribution we bring to the common welfare. The bufy g6 THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. bnfy man alone is grateful to the community which fupports and protects him, and procures him a thou- fand advantages ; he repays, and often repays with intereR:, the fervices it does him. Whereas the un- employed, the idler, is a mean-fpiiited creature, who is always receiving, and never gives, who is profitable to none, and yet requires fervice from all men ; an abject debtor, daily increafmg his debt, and never intending to pay it. — And how exten- fively does the bufy man operate around him ! for what numbers of his brethren, near him and afar off, known to him and unknown, of all claifes and conditions, mediately or immediately, does he not think and provide and labour ! What fervices does he not render them, by his counfel, by his affiftance, by his perceptions, by his dexterity, by his induftry, by his integrity ! How many others does he not fet on to the moft ufeful activity by means of his own bulinefs ! Hov/ much evil does he not thus prevent, how much good not promote ! How often is he by this means the benefador, not only of the prefent race of men, but alfo of future generations ! And mull not fuch a life be of great value, muft it not be far preferable to a hfe of inaction and idlenefs ? But, if a life of bufmefs be highly ufeful, fo mull it alfo, fifthly, on that very account, be an abundant fpring of pleafure and happinefs to ourfelves. And in faft, my pious hearers, how great the pleafure to exert our talents to difplay our abilities with fkill, and in the m.oft generally ufeful way! What a plea- THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. 97 pleafure to vanquifii impediments, to conquer diffi- culties, to plan extenfive projcfts, to finifh ufeful works, to bring good defigns to perfection ! What a pleafure, when a man makes out his reckoning to himfelf at the end of the day, or the week, or the year, of the application of his faculties and his time, and can confole himfelf in the reflexion that he has not fufFered them to lie idle, that he has not fquan- dered them away, that he has not mifemployed them, but has made them anfwer to the will of God) and has accomplifhed many good and ufeful matters with them ! What a pleafure, when a man can fay to himfelf, that he has difcharged his duty, worthily filled his pofl, that he has ferved and afTifted many of his fellow-creatures, that he has been the bene- faelor of his brethren ! What a pleafure, when a man may promife himfelf the refpe6l, the affedion, the gratitude of the whole fociety, and can accept and employ their reciprocal fervices, their teflimonies of efteem, and the reward of his merits, with a good confcience, and with the grateful fentiment that he is not unworthy of them ! And how greatly muft not all thefe pleafures contribute to the felicity of the man ! How pleafant to him muft be the retro- fpeft on his paft, the enjoyment of his prefent, and the profped of his future life ! With what con- fidence may he not think on God, and how freely and openly converfe with men ! How contented, how fatisfied muft he not be in the confcioufnefs of his growth in inward perfedion, and the furvey of VOL. II. H the oS THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE* the good he has effeded about hhn ! How fweet muft not each longer or fhorter recreation be to him, the enjoyment of each innocent pleafure, either fen- fual or intelledual, to which he has obtained a right by ufeful employment, and to which his appetite is not blunted by too copious an indulgence in this feafoning of life ! Pure advantages, pure pleafures and joys, unknown to the unemployed and the idle. To them their faculties and powers are often a downright burden. To them every day, every week, every year of their lives, is alike empty oiF adions and events that might gladden and refrefh their minds. Them the pafl afflicts, the prefent perplexes, and the future confounds. And as often as they are forced to reflect upon themfelves, they mufl fland afhamed before God and man. Their very pleafures are uniform and taftelefs. And how often mufl they be an incumbrance, how often dif- guftful to them ! How great then muft be the ad- vantage in this refpe£t of the induftrious over the idle ! To conclude, a bufy life, condu£ted with intelli- gence, with regularity, confcientioufnefs, and direct- ed to the common welfare, is the beft preparation for a fuperior, a more perfect, and a more blifsful (late in the future world. The more we here unfold our faculties, and elevate and improve our talents by pradice ; in fo much greater and more important matters (hall we there employ them ; fo much the. more fliall we there be able to do with them ; fo much THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. 99 much the more quickly and eafily Ihall we there proceed towards the mark of fupreme perfedlion. The more carefully and earneflly we do in this pro- vince of the kingdom of God, what he has delivered us to perform; fo much the more will he confide to us to tranfad and to ufe in other provinces of his kingdom. The more extenfively we here operate about us in views of general utility ; fo much the larger is the fphere of operation he there will aflign us. The better we here allow ourfelves to be edu- cated and formed by our heavenly father, the better will he be able to employ us there when we fhall have exchanged this ftate of childhood for the manly 5ge. Reft and refrefhment without previous toil, payment without fervice, perfection without the befl and faithfulleft ufe of our powers, blifs without an adive, bufy life, can no more be thought of in heaven than it can upon earth, can there no more exift than here. What an encouraging profped for the man that leads a life of bufinefs ! And what a comfortlefs, melancholy idea for the flothful, who pafles his days in loitering and idlenefs. And now take all this into your minds at one view. Refled that a bufy life exempts a man from the oppreffive load of languor of fpirits j that it fe- cures him from a thoufand follies and finful ex- cefles ; that it moft cogently incites him to unfold his capacities, to exert and exercife his faculties, and thereby to advance his perfedion j that it fur- nilhes him with means and opportunities of being H « ufeful top THE VALUE OF A BUSY LIFE. ufeful to mankind in the greateil variety of ways^ and of acquiiing a vail influence on the general wel- fare : that it is a rich fource of pleafure and happi- nefs to himfelf ; that, in fhort, it prepares and fits him for a higher and better ftate : and fay, after all, whether a life of bufmefs is not of real and of great value ; whether it is not far preferable to an inac- tive, unemployed, and lazy hfe. Certainly, my dear brethren, this is the beft and nobleft ufe of life. Hereto are we ordained and called ; hereto has God entrufted to us capacities and powers, and given us fo many urgent wants. By this alone can we become as perfe6t, as happy as man can be in the prefent flate of things, and extra^here far from any one of us. His exiftence is there more certain to us ; it is demonilratively apparent ; and all doubts., that may pcilibly arife in us at other times, here lofe their force. God is, and he is the Creator and Father of thee, and of all beings ; this e^'ery thing around us declares in a language that cannot be miiiaken. We ther'e fee him, in a manner, acting, working, imparting of himfelf^ and diflufmg benefits about him with a liberal hand, and employed in the prefervation and welfare of every thing that exifls and lives. The lefs we be- hold of human art, the more we fee of nature, and the more beautiful fhe prefents herfelf to us, the iuore does flie lead us up to God ; the more do all objects animate and exalt our ideas and fentiments of him. Every blade of grafs, every flower of the field, every plant, every tree, every infeft, every beait, the rifmg and the fetting fun, the mild re- frefhing breath of evening gales, and the-majeflic violence THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY-LIFE. I 25 rJoIence of the dorm, the ferenely fniiling fky, aiid the dark tempefluous night, — all, all announce to us the prefence of the Almighty, the fupremely wife, the fupremely good ; all render him, as it were, fenfibie and apparent ; all call us to bow down before him, to adore his fovereignty, and to rejoice in his cxiftence. There every thought on -God will, with the good and fenfibie man, be ac- companied by correfpondent feelings ; and every fentiment on fupreme wildom and goodrjefs muil be attended by reverence, by love, by gratitude, by joy, by hope and confidence, And here interrogate thyfelf, o man, o chridlan, how near or how remote, how natural, or how foreign to thee is the fentiment of God, what im- prefiicn it makes upon thee, what other reflections and fentiments it excites within thee. Afk thyfelf: how v.-ert thou difpofed, what didil thou think, how didft thou feel, as thou walkedfl alone acrof;> the fmiling fields, or through the flowery mead, or \3own the verdant lawn, or along the fliady grove, or by the ferene and placid lultre of the moon. Did not a gentle reverential tremor, did not the facred fentiment of the proximity of thy God, affed thee ? Did it never happen to thee as if thou fawell the Lord, as formerly he was feen in paradife, walking araongft his creatures, as if thou heardeft him talking to thee, and explaining to thee his wiii and his deligns r And if this holy femiment have fallen 126 THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY-X.Il'B. fallen to thy fh'are, if it have ever penetrated thy heart ; what love to thy Creator and Father, what truft in his benignity and providence, what zeal to do his will and to promote his views, what benevo- lent difpofitions towards all thy fellow-creatures, what afpi rations after fuperior perfection and blifs, muft it not have excited in thee ! Ilappy they, who are able to recollect many fvich blefled mo- ments ! To them the thought of God is not a fo- reign thought. It lives and governs in their foul, and fccarcs them a fucceflion of complete fatisfac- tions and of unfullied pleafures. Rural life is, fecondly, very in(lru£tive in regard to the real worth and deflination of man. Here, my chriftian brother, here man appears to thee more in the cliaracter of man, (tripped of all out- v/ard and dazzling- difrinctions ; here mayfl thou better learn to elteem him for what he is ; learn what is properly his own as a huriian creature, what gives him real worth. A robull and healthy body ; a found and vigorous mind ; a chearfal tem- per ; an honefl heart, glov;ing \vith love tov/ards God and man j a prudent and a£live induftry in his profeJdion ; wifdom, fouiided on years and ex- perience ; virtue that confifh more in actions than in words ; piety, not indeed making us more learned, but better and more tranquil : thefe are of greater account than birth and raiik and Ration, fuperior to all the borrowed fplendour, with which the rich and great THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY-LIFE. tiy great make fuch parade ; and thefe alone, both here and every where, compofe the true worth of man. Learn tlien to efliniate thyfelf and the inhabitants of towns by this ftandard ; fo wilt thou judge different- ly and far more jilftly both of thyfelf and others. No em-pVf pride in things that are not of thyfelf will inflate thy mind ; no excefllve admiration of merely outward diftinciions will degrade thee into a flatterer and a Have. Thou wilt efleem and love every one as thy brother v/ho afts and thinks like a man, and acknowledge only intrinfic and fub- ftantial excellence as honourable in thyfelf and others. But there mayft thou likewife learn more juftly to judge of the deftination of man. When thou there confiderefl how many and how various the toilfome and continued labours, hcw^ many the hands and faculties that are requifite for fertilizing the earth, for procuring food and cloathing for its inhabitants, and for fupplyhig their primary moil prefling wants ; canfl thou then poffibly doubt that man was defigned for an active and bufy life, for a juft and due application and exertion of his powers! Canft thou then poffibly think, that he fufficiently fulfills the intention of his being, when he fedulouf- ly Ihuns whatever bears the name of labour ; accounts all ftatcd and renewed work for violence and trouble ; pafTes his days in flothful eafe, in a delicate refervation of his faculties j or employe himfelf 128 THE VALUE OF A COUNTRV-LIFE. himfelf barely in fruitlefs fpeculations or idle re- fearches, which have no influence on the wcli'are of human fociety ? Canft thou pofiibly imagine that men who thus think and aft can claim any juft pre- cedence above the huPoandman ? Or canft thou then doubt of the great importance both of him and his vocation ? Canft thou refufe him the ef- teem and the gratitude he deferves ? No, the cul- tiTation of the earth is the iirft, the moft natural , the moft neceffary, the nobleft and moft honour- able condition and calling of man ; and he that defpifes this ftation of life, defpifes the ordinance of God, and forgets to Vvhat purpofes man was de- figned by his Creator. O thou who confumeft in town the produ£ls of the countiy, forget not from whence the food thou enjoyeft, the beverage that refreflies thee, the cloathing thou weareft, p:-oceed, whence and by whom they are prepared and adapted to thy ufe ; and defpife them not who render thee this effential, this indifpenfable fervice ! Honour the huft)and- man as thy fteward and provider ; opprefs him not with hard fervices, with fevere exaftions, and ft ill iefs with the burden of contempt, fo hard to be borne j for he too has the manly, the moral- fenti- nient, and that very frequently Iefs impaired or vi- tiated than the generality of the inhabitants of po- pulous towns. Honour him as thy elder brother, who pro\id«s for the whole family, profecutes their 4t moft THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY LIFE. . 1 29 mofl: laborious affairs, and thereby leaves his younger brethren time and leifure and ability, to provide for the conveniences rather than the neceffaries of life, and to invent and to enioy a variety of more re- fined pleafures. Yes, honour agriculture, as the prime, the peculiar fource of wealth, as the firmed fupport of the commonweal, without which neither arts, nor fciences, nor trade, without which even thy city luxury and fplendor could not fubfifl j and, if thou haft no means, no calling, no occa- fion, to purfue arts and fcienceSs trade and com- merce, or to ferve in what are termed the higher circles of the world ; then hafte thee back to thy primitive vocation, to the culture of the ground ; and believe that thou art more agreeable in the fight of God, thy Lord, and far more honourable in the eyes of thy intelligent brethren, than if, replete with vanity and pride, thou fquander away thy time and thy faculties, and require to reap where thou haft not fown ! This is not all, my chriftlan brother ! Even in refpeft to the fuperior deftinatiOn of man v^hen we have done with this terreftrial life, our fojoum in the country, and our converfe with its inhabitants, may be very inftrudive. How many mental powers, how many great and happy difpofitions, how many generous fentiments, wilt thou not there difcover, of which, in their confined and narrow fphere, in their fimple and uniform train of affairs, but few VOL, II. K can 130 THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY LIFE. can be exerted, applied, employed, or ufed In the degree and extent to which they are adapted \ How many heads, which for fagacity, for ingenuity, for docility, for extending or improving fome of the fciences, or by flate-policy, would have rendered themfelves confpicuous, had they been produced in different circumflances, and in other connections t How many hearts, fufceptible of the nobleft and moil effedive benevolence, which might have felt and provided for the happinefs of many thoufands, if they were not thus totally deflitute of the proper means and opportunities ! How many perfons, who live and die in the deepeft obfcurity, that would have attra£ted the attention or admiration of all be- holders, had they been placed on a more fpacious ftage ! And fhall not thefe powers, thefe difpofi- tions, be unfolded in another life ? Shall thefe ge- nerous fentiments never be able to exert themfelves in adlion ? Shall all thefe atlive and improvable minds, all thefe fenfible hearts, all thefe eminently good and ufeful human creatures, fhall they never be what, from the ground plot of them, they might be and become ? Has their Creator made fuch great preparatives for fo poor a purpofe ; can he have laviflied away fo much power of production for fuch trifling effeds ? Couldfl; thou exped this of him whom all nature proclaims^ to be fupremely Vvife ? No, the more undeveloped capacities, the more rellrided faculties, the more unfinilhed human intellects, THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY LIFE. 13I intellefls, thoii meeteft among thy brethren ; fo much the more certain mayfl thou be of their im- mortality and of thine own, of their and thine ever- lafting progrefs towards higher perfection* Very inftruftive to the refledling man, is, thirdly, his abode in the country, in regard to what is termed happinefs. Here feeft thou, o man^ thou- fands of thy brethren and fifters, dwelling not in palaces, not in houfes adorned with the beauties of art ; who partake of no coftly diflies artificially pre- pared ; who wear no fumptuous and fplendid ap- parel ; who loll on no luxurious couches ; who yet in their humble cottages, with their ordinary food, in their fimple attire, on their hard beds, find much comfort and joy and nourishment and recreation, who probably find in all thefe a greater relifh, than thou in the enjoyment of affluence and fuperfluity. Here feeft thou thoufands of thy brothers and fifters, who are daily employed in the moft laborious, toil- fome, and which appear to thee the moft difagree- able and painful occupations j and who yet are chearful at their work, and contented with their condition : perfons who are totally unacquainted with all thy exquifite delicacies, and with the gene- rality of thy refined pleafures ; and yet complain neither of languor, nor of the want of pleafures and paftimes : men whom the glad fentiment of their health and powers, the view of beautiful na- ture, the profpeft of a plentiful harveft, an abund- ant production of the fruits of the orchard, the K. 2 peaceful 132 THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY LIFE, peaceful enjoyment of the rcfrefhing evening breeze, the familiar table-talk, and the animated rejoicings on feflivals and Sundays, more than compenfate for the want of thy fplendid diflindions ; men, in fhort, who may be very confined even in their religious notions, and probably are erroneous in many re- fpeds ; but adhere to what they know and believe, and confole and refrefti themfelves by meditations on God and the world to come, on numberlefs oc- cafions, wherein thou who knoweft, or pretended to know more, art driven and tofled from doubt to doubt, and no where findeft peace. Here oh learn what real happinefs is, by what means and in what path thou may (I feek and find it. Here learn that happinefs is not confined to affluence; does not confifl in outward glare ; not in rank and titles ; not, in a foft, luxurious, idle, and inaftive life ; not in an eternal round of diverfions ; not in the unhappy means of hearkening to every childifli foolifh fancy, and in exploring the methods of its gratification. No, learn to find it in the chearful fentiment, and the alert application of our powers, in an a£Uve and bufy life, in the due difcharge of the duties of our calling, in fetting bounds to our defires, and in the diminution of our artificial wants ; to know that it confifts in contentednefs of heart, and in comfortable reflexions on God, and on the better world of futurity; that it therefore is far more dependent on ourfelves and our manner of •feeing and judging of things, than on our outward circum- THE VALUE OF A COUNTRY LIFE. I'33t circumflances and the regard we draw ; and that no man is utterly fecluded from the pofleflion and en- joyment of it, be his ftation in life what it may. Learn therefore to difmifs thy complaints, and no longer accufe the Creator and Father of the world ; accufe thyfelf and thy froward tafte, and thy irregu- lar defires, and thy fervile propenfity to imitation, and thy falfe, perverted judgment on the worth of things, and the weaknefs by which thou fuft'ereft thyfelf to be deceived by appearance and fhow, or fwayed by the fenfelefs fafhion of the times, and the wafle or abufe of thy more extenfive knowledge — of thefe things thou mayfl complain ; but, from complaints proceed to alteration and amendment, if thou art not happy, or only happy in a flight de- gree ; fince thou mayll drink at every fource of happinefs v;hich nature, art, fociety, and religion, open to thee. And when thou haft learned this, thou haft learned the fcience which is the moft im- portant of all, the fcience of being chearful, pleafed, and happy, and of ever becoming more fo. So inflruclive, my pious hearers, may the time we pais in the country be to us, and fo inflrudive it actually is to reflecting perfons. To fuch an one what appears to be no more than recreation and pleafure, will prove a copious fpring of wifdom. Thus will he at once invigorate both his mind and his body, the health of the one, and at the fame time the health of the other. Thus does he draw nigh unto his Creator, his Father, his God j learns K3 to 134 THE VALTJE OF A COUNTRY LIFE. to behold and feel him in all his works ; and redi- fies his judgment on the worth and deflination of man, and on his real felicity. May we all reap thefe experiences from our excurfions into the country ; and on every fre|h pccafion in more abund- ant meafure! S=C SERMON XXXIII. The Value of Domejiic Happinefs, f^\ GOD, the eternal, inexhauftlble fountain of ^^ all comfort and happinefs, how various, how abundant are the fources of fatisfadion and pleafure which thou haft opened to us thy children, and to the enjoyment whereof thou inviteft us by thy good providence ! If thou have befet our path of life with numerous impediments and difficulties for our difcipline and corredion, yet haft thou embelliftied it with numberlefs beauties and fatisfadtions which impart to us courage and energy to overcome thofe difficulties. If thou lay upon us fometimes heavy duties, toilfome bufmefles, fevere afflictions ; thou fofteneft and alleviateft them to us by ftill more va- rious and greater recreations and comforts. Yes, we may, we ftiould be even here on earth contented and happy j and if we are not fo, it is by our own K 4 fault. 136 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. fault. In capacities, in means, in opportunities, in encouragements to it, thou lettefl none of us be Wanting. But too frequently we let ourfelves be wanting in the wife and faithful ufe of that which can and fhould make us happy according to thy will ! But too often we allow ourfelves to be cheated by the femblance of things ; flight truth and wifdom and virtue, the only fure guides to hap- pinefs ; and let ourfelves be mifled by error, by folly and vice on the road of trouble and mifery. And then we doubt of thy goodnefs, murmur at thy decrees and difpenfations, and complain of the la- mentable lot of humanity ! O God^ how unjuft are v/e frequently againfl thee, and how inimical to ourfelves ! Ah, forgive us our tranfgreilions, moft merciful father, and lead us back from our devia- tions. Let the light of truth dilTipate the errors and prejudices that fo often mifguide us. Teach us ever better to know and more worthily to ufe the wife and kind difpofitions thou haft made for our happinefs. Grant that we may ail feek and find it there where thou wilt that we fhould feek and find it, and let us all become conflantly more intelligent and good, and thereby more capable of its enjoy- ment. Blefs to this purpofe the meditations that are now to employ our thoughts. Let us perceive the happinefs of domeftic life, to which we are called by thee, in its real form, and derive from it all the "bleffednefs that it i$ capable of procuring us. Grant our THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. I 37 our requefts, thou father of mercies, which we im- plore of thee in the name of our faviour Jefus, and, entirely relying on his promifes and refigned to thy will, we farther addrefs thee as : Our father, &c. MATTH. xxi. 17, And he left them, and went out of the city into Bethany, and he lodged there. TT not unfrequentiy happens, that a man is look- -*- ing at a diftance for what lies by him, for what is inviting him at home to immediate enjoymxcnt ; and this is commonly the caufe that he either does ' not find what he feeks for at all, or not fo complete as he could wifh. Thus all mankind are in queft of fatisfadion and happinefs. But probably they lead fearch for it where it would be the mofl eafily, the moft certainly, and the moil completely found. They overlook or defpife the fources of it which lie nearefl to them, and are already in their poflef- fion ; which no man can fhut up from them, no man can render taflelefs or conteflable ; which flow indeed without noife, but in a copious and uninter- rupted ftream: and rove about in anxious per- 4t plexity 138 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. plexity after others, which can only be difcovcred with great labour, only fparlngly enjoyed, from which they cannot always, from which they can but feldom draw undifturbed, can never entirely flake their thirft, and often run the hazard of taking in bitternefs and death with the waters of them. I will fpeak without a metaphor. Mankind too oft^n feek their principal pleafure, their whole felicity, iu what is called the great world, in numerous and brilliant companies, in diftrafting and fafcinating diverfions, in extenfive connections with fuch per- fons as are dillinguiflied by their rank, their train, their opulence, their luxuries, and their magnifi- cence, and live fumptuoufly every day, or rather fe€m as if they lived. Too often do they run from one fuch glittering circle to another, from one fuch company of counterfeit freedom and joy to another, in hopes of affuaghig their thirfl after pleafure and happitiefs. But how feldom do they find what they feek ! How much feldomer do they find it fo pure, fo complete, as they expected ! How oft do they there miftake the fhadow for the fubftance, appear- ance for reality, and find themfclves lamentably and ihamefully deceived in their moil flattering hopes ! And how much more eafily and fatisfac- torily, how much more fincerely and completely might they have found and enjoyed this pleafure and happinefs, if they had been contented to look for it, not fo far ofl, but nearer at hand ; not in noife, but in quiet ; not in what depends on mere accident. THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 1 39 accident, but is in their own power ; in fliort, if they had fought for it in domeflic life ? Yes, in this little unrenowned circle, there is far more real, folid joy, than in grand and brilliant companies ; more happinefs and greater variety of it is to be found in this fmall round of employments and pleafures than on the vail theatre of glaring ihows and tumultuous diverfions. Here, in the enjoy- ment of domeflic happinefs, it is that the wife man, the chriflian, principally feeks and finds refrefhment, recreation, and pleafure. Here even our Lord, whofe tafte and fentiments were in all refpeds fo humane and generous, fought and found them. Wearied by the labours of the day, and the contra- didions of his enemies, he left them, as our text in- forms us, and went out of the city into Bethany, there to participate in the peace and comfort of a family united together by the tendereffc affeftion, the family of Lazarus and his fillers, and to increafe their fatisfaclions by his prefence and converfe. This humble abode of domeflic happinefs he pre- ferred to the lofty palaces of the great, to the felli- vities of the rich and the riotous mirth of the volup- tuous. Happy they, who in this refpedl likewife are fo minded as Jefus was ! They can never be deficient in real felicity. Yes, my dear brethren, great, uncommonly great, is the value of domeflic happinefs ! But infinitely greater to them who know it by experience, than to fuch as are only acquainted with it from defcription. May T40 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS, May I be enabled to do juftice to k at Icail in my reprefentation ! In order to this, let us enter upon two inquiries. The jfirfl, how fliould domeflic Hfe be conftituted, that it may have a great value ? The .other, what gives it this value; or, wherein does it confifl ? Domeflic life, like all other external goods, is not neceflarily and of itfelf, but only under certain conditions, in particular circumfhances, a real ad- vantage and a fource of actual felicity. Home is but too frequently rendered the feat of tirefomenefs and diiguft ; the fcene of low and ungoverned paf- fions ; the abode of vexation, of ill-humour, of vari- ous diffentions, of petulance and malice; not feldom an actual place of torment. This is always more or lefs the cafe, where wifdom and virtue are not of the party, and do not animate the bufineiTes and pleafures of domeflic life. Only there v/here wifdom and virtue dwell, where intelligent and good perfons live together, only there dwell peace, fatisfaftion, and joy ; it is they alone that render either a cottage or a palace the receptacle of pleafure ; only by their means is any family, whether greai or fmall, ren- dered capable of happinefs. For only the intelligent and good can tell what folid happinefs implies; none but they have either the tafle or fentiment proper for it ; it is they alone that eftimate things by their real value, and know how to enjoy above all things what is true and beautiful and good, unefleemed and un- known as it may be in the great world, and among fuch THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 14! fuch as are not fufceptible of the more delicate fen- fations. To them a word that overflows from the fullnefs of the heart, a look that indicates the foul, an inconfiderable but guilelefs a£lion, an unimport- ant kindnefs but performed from real affedion, a calm and filent fentlment of friendfhip, a free eftu- fion of one's thoughts and fentiments into the bofom of one*s family, is of more worth than the reiterated proteflations of civility and regard, than all the flat- tering encomiums and blandiflnnents, than all the friendly miens and geftures, than all the fplendid en- tertainments in which the glory and happinefs of the generality of large companies confifl:. Wherever domeftic happinefs is found, it fliews us perfons who are connected together by real, in- trinfic love and friendfliip, who live entirely by each other, and who feek their happinefs, their honour, and their force, in the mutual union of their hearts. Only to perfons of this defcription can and mufl: every thing be of importance which each has and fays and does and enjoys, how he is inclined, and whatever befalls him. They alone know how to confider the advantages of one with undeviating complacency; to obferve the infirmities and failings of another without diflike ; to reprove the indifcre- tions of a third with inoffenfi ve gentlenefs ; to under- ftand the looks of each; to prevent the w-ants and wifties of all ; mutually to comply with the defigns of each other; to harmonize with the feelings of the reft ; and to rejoice heartily in all the fuccefl"es, even E42 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. even the moft incorifiderable, that happen to each other. Wherever frigidity of temper and untrafta- blenefs, where jealoufy and envy prevail, there no real happinefs is poffiblei in the narrow circle of daily intercourfe. Laftly, domeftic happinefs fuppofes a tafle for truth, for nature, for a noble fimplicity, for ferene repofe ; as they are in contraft with error and art, lludied and forced pleafures, and the more oflenta- tious and poignant diverfions. That pure and gene- rous tafte alone can give any value to the comforts of domeftic life, and, to fuch as underftand and en* joy it, render all its concerns important and delight- ful, as the fources of fatisfaclion and pleafure. For, in this cafe, they arife, not fo much from the objeft, as from the eye that beholds them and the heart that feels them; not fo much from the importance of the tranfaftions and incidents themfelves, as from the natural and fpontaneous manner in which they arife, and the pleafmg intereft taken in them. To perfons of a found judgment and an uncorrupted heart, the chearful countenance of the fpoufe, the iifping of the infants, the piirthful fports of the children, the fight of reafon in its bud and in its blofibm; to them the earneft curiofity of one, the innocent vivacity of another, the growth and improvement of a third, the contentednefs of all, is a fcene far preferable, with all its privacy and fimplicity, to any other however intricately con- ducted or fplendidly performed j to them the filent and THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 14-3 and placid exiftence in a fociety of open afFedion, of unreftrained and unobtrufive benevolence and love, to hearts that are able to melt, is a kind of being which they would not exchange for any of thofe that are fo much prized and envied by the multitude. This once premifed, the happinefs of domeftic life has doubtlefs a great, a confpicuoufly great value. Let us now fee what gives it this value, or wherein it confifts. The comfort of domeftic life is, In the firft place, the moft agreeable relief from the burden and heat of the day and its frequently tirefome bufmefs ; the fweetefl recompence for the work we have finiihed, probably after much toil, great exertions, much op^ pofition, and at laft finifhed without fuccefs. Here peace, recreation, and repofe, await the father, the mother, the individuals of the family, after they have finiflied, perhaps in the fweat of their brow, the labours of the day. And the cool dufk of the evening ,cannot be more "Welcome to the w^ary tra- veller than the relaxation they enjoy in the bofom of their family. Here the man of profound fcience un- bends his mind, amufes himfelf with the agreeable images he receives from without ; lowers himfelf to the comprehenfion of the chattering infant, to the underftanding of each of his children ; watches and cherifties every indication of a found mind and a good heart as it fprings forth, and accommodates himfelf to every thought and fentiment that unex- pectedly prefents itfelf to him. Here the man of bufmefs 144 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. bufinefs forgets his Intricate concerns ; difmifles his troubles for a time ; if he cannot entirely banifh them, receives comfort and encouragement from the partner of his foul; and his heart expands, his coun- tenance brightens, and troubles and cares flee away, till he has collected frefh vigour to refume his bur- dens, or rid himfelf of them. Here the fcholar breaks off the thread of his invefligations ; fteps out of the labyrinth in which he had probably entangled himfelf; and often finds, in the enjoyment of the in- nocence and noble fimplicity of his offspring, more truth and more tranquillity, more aliment for his mind and heart, than all the learning and all the arts in the world could give him. Here every man fees and is fenfible for whom he has been at work, for whom he has been exerting his faculties ; and re- joices the more over what he has done, as thofe who are to reap the fruits of it are the dearer to his foul. Here every man receives the praife and applaufe he deferves, and receives it from the perfons whofe ap- probation and praife are every thing to him. Here the drooping are raifcd, the faulty correded, the flothful excited, the afflicled confoled, and fatisfac- tion, by degrees, is diifufed over all. And where, then, my friend and my brother, where wilt thou, where canfl thou feek and find this happinefs, this recreation, this reward, if thou find it not in domef- tic life ? The happinefs of domeflic life is, farther, quiet, peaceful felf-enjoyment j a ftU-enjoyment that is multiplied THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 1 45 multiplied and ennobled by the intimate participa- tion of all the concernments of this trufly fociety. Here a man returns from dillradion and diflipation to himfelf ; feels his exiftence ; has a clear, diftind, internal confcioufnefs of what he is and polTefles, and Hves more in himfelf and for himfelf, and in them and for them who are neareft to his perfonal being, than in outward things. Here what we are with regard to the fociety at large, and for which we mufl fo often forget what we are in and of ourfelves, comes into no confideration ; we put oft our titles and polls and dignities alid borrowed diflindions, as robes of ceremony, which are as often an incumbrance as an ornament to us j we re- . turn to our natural Hate of liberty, play no artificial character, reprefent no ftrange perfonage; think, fpeak, ad entirely according to our own peculiar turn, as our fenfations arife, and appear what we aftually are, and nothing elfe. Here a man feels and prefents himfelf as a man, the fpoufe as the fpoufe, the parent as the parent, the child as the child, the friend as the friend ; but no one as fove- reign or as fubjedl, no one as the llatefman, or as the prelate, or as the pubHc teacher, or as the mer- chant, or in any other reference to ilation and call- ing. And how bleffed is not this inward unadul- terated fentiment of humanity, this ferene enjoyment of real intrinfic perfedion and dignity, independent on outward things ! How much more blefted than any participation in the fallacious turbulence and '^"OL. II. L dazzling 14^ THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPIN-ESS. dazzling fplendour of the great world ! How many innocent, humane, and generous emotions here arife and are difplayed, which, in the ordinary hurry of bufmefs and diffipation, flumber in the recefies of the foul, as if in covert from the fcorn and derifion of the vain or the wicked ! And is not this to be properly called living, fully to enjoy one's life, and to be glad and rejoice in it, like a rational being, with confcioufnefs and confideration ? The happinefs of domeflic life is thirdly the delight- ful, free, and intimate aflbciation between harmonious and mutually loving fouls. Hence vanifli all the conftraints of ait, of fafliion, of received ufages and ceremonies ; all fear of cruel cenfure, of galling re- proof, or biting jeers ; all uneafy conflraint ; all wearifome attention to a thoufand indifferent, infig- nilicant things. Here every one fiiews himfelf in his ov»"n native colours, without needing to conceal even his harmlefs weakneffes, his adual imperfeftions and failings. Here one heart unfolds itfelf to another ; and every refledion, every fentiment, is transferred, undifffuifcd, unaltered in its full truth and force, from one to the other. Here no forrow, no care, no wifn, no joy, no hope, remains fhut up in the recefles of the lieart ; but, by free and reciprocal- communication, every forrow is mitigated, every care diminiihed, every worthy defire encouraged, every joy redoubled and heightened, every hope be-- €omes actual enjoyment. Here each exchanges what he has for what another poiTelTes, alternately beliowmg THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. I47 befi:o^\ing and receiving information and comfort and force and fatisfa£lion, and fcrenity ; while all feel themfelves. richer and greater and flronger and happier, for what they are and poflefs in common. And where, I befeech yoa, where can thefe effufions, thefe communications of the heart have place, with fo much carelefs freedom, and to fo wide an extent, as in domeflic life ? 'What a value then mud not the happinefs of it thus acquire in the eyes of every man who loves nature and truth, who has a humane, a tender, a communicative heart, and yet finds fo little matter for its nourifnment be- yond the circle of his familiar friends ! And ftill how many more agreeable circumftances and advantages are not connefted with this happinefs, which greatly enhance the value of it ! The happinefs of domeftic life is, fourthly, inex- hauflible. It renews itfelf daily, it multiplies itfelf without end. As much as nature is more diverfified and richer than art, fo much more various and abun- dant in pleafures and joys is this happinefs than any other. Here are no fettled boundaries, no determi- nate way and manner, hov/ and to what extent a irnn {hall pleafe and delight himfelf. As various as are the employments, the tranfadions and the events of human life, and as various as the revolutions that daily obtain in regard of all thefe things j jufl fo various alfo are the objects of friendly intercourfe, and the familiar converfe of domeftic life. As in- exhauflible as the thinking principle of the human L 2 mind. 148 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC KAPPINES3. mind, and the fenfitlve fiiculty of the human heart, fo inexauftible are the fources of delight that here ftand open. Here no good word that is uttered falls to the ground ; here no effecl is without its reciprocal confequence ; no fentiment that is not conceived, no teflimony of afFeclion that is not re- turned, no civility that is not repaid, no fatisfadlion that is not enjoyed by all, no emotion that is not transfufed into every heart. Here the recollection of the pafl and the profpe£l of the future are inti- mately combined in the enjoyment of the prefent; all together form but one highly interefting whole ; all take a lively part in all : and how much mud not the agreeable employment and the pleafures of each by this means be multiplied ! How much more than there, where only certain kinds of plea- fures or am-ufements are to be found, which always wear the fame afpe^St, and always return with the fame reftridions ; where a man is fo feldom thoroughly underftood; mufl fo often give his words to the wind J fo often exhibits thoughts and feelings, wherein none coincide either in fentiment or fenfa- tion ; fo often excites envy by his contentednefs, and dark looks by his chearful mien ; and where commonly the mofl feparate, and not unfrequently the mofl oppofite interefts adluate all the individuals of the fociety ! No wonder then, if pleafure often fails, and its dull monotony renders it flill oftener jnfipid ! The THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 149 The happinefs of domeflic life compenfates the want of any other ; but no other can compenfate the want of that. Let the world, let thy country- men withhold from thee the juftice, the refpecl, and efleem that are due to thy ^nerits ; repay thy fervices with indifference and Ingratitude : how fpeedily wilt thou forget thefe flights, or thefe mjuries, on return- ing to the bofom of thy family, on being received by them with open arms and open hearts, and in paffing among them for what thou really art, obtain- ing the approbation which is truly thy defert, and ' in feeling the whole worth of their attachment and love ! Has all the glittering tinfel of the great world, all the magnificence of the court, iall the triumph of eminence and power, left thy heart empty and cold; has the farce of difTunulation, of artifice, of falfliood, of chlldifh vanity that was there performed, wearied and difgufled thee : how foon does thy deadened heart expand itfelf as thou entered the doors of thy houfe ; how foon does it feel a mild and genial w^armth in the circle of thy wife and thy children and friends ; how foon* do the fmcerlty, the frank- nefs, the affability, the innocence which there pre- vail, reflore thy foul, and reconcile thee to the hu- man race ! — On the other hand, be as full as thou wilt of the bounties of fortune ; be the darling of the great ; be the idol of the people ; be the oracle of the politefl companies ; be even great and rich thyfelf J prefide over as many others as thou canff ; L 3 but 150 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. but if thy habitation be the feat of difcord and jea- loufy, and thy domeflic Hfe deny thee the peace, the fatisfadion, the pleafure it yields to the wife and good : how httle will evefy outward and dazzling circumftance of fortune make thee amends for this effential imvard defe£t ! How much will this one defed embitter the enjoyment of every fpecies of fuccefs ! How hard and intolerable will the burden of it be ! Hence it is, that the enjoyment of domeftic hap- pinefs is always not lefs edifying and ufeful than pleafant. It is here a man learns the true ends of his being ; here he is taught rightly to appreciate the value of ail . the goods of hfe ; here he is con- vinced of the emptinefs of grandeur, of pomp, of rank and flation. Here he is taught to think, and feel, and aft like a reafonable creature ; learns to forget his outward didindions, and to fee them in their proper light, more as toys and baubles, or even incumbrances, than as things in themfelves covet-^ able. Here all hearts are united, and ever uniting clofer ; the one becomes flill dearer to the other, each is ever more ready and willing to aflift and ferve the reft ; all colleft new avidity and new powers to fulfil the duties of their calling, more and more to deferve the efteem and applaufe of the others, and thereby to promote the welfare of the whole community, which is but one heart and one foul. VvHth what zeal muft not the father, and the mother of the family be animated in their affairs, of what THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 15! what perfeverance will they not be capable, v/hile they tafle the fruit of their induftry in the enjoyment of domeftic happinefs, in jocund converfe with their children, and provide themfelves daily, by continued induftry, with fucceflive pleafures and renewed de- lights ! What an incitement mud not this be to the faithful difcharge of their duties ! And mufl not thofe pleafures be of extraordinary value, which in- {lru6l and improve whofoever enjoys them ? Still more. To the enjoyment of domeftic hap- pinefs, no troublefome, no expcnfive preparations and arrangements are needful. It may be enjoyed at all feafons, in every moment of life. No fooner does the hour of focial recreation, the hour of meet- ing again, the moment of finifned labour arrive, but with them enter chearfulnefs and mirth into this happy circle. No fooner does the want of this plea- fure make itfelf felt, but the means of fatisfying it are ready at hand. Selfifimefs and ill-humour, and a thoufand pretended or real obftru£tions and re- Uraints, which defeat the fchemes of pleafure among people of fafhion, have little influence here. The inclination of one is the inclination of the other. This chearfully bellows what he has, and as chear- fully and gratefully accepts what another gives him. When one is glad, gladnefs infpires them all ; when one of them enters to the reft with a brightened af- pe£t, joy beams from the faces of all. When one has done fome good or obtained fome fuccefs, and imparts it to the objects of his affeftion, it is as if all L 4 as 152 THE \"ALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. as well as he had done or enjoyed it. What advan- tages have not fuch pleafures and joys above thofe that often require whole weeks to be fpent in plan- ning, arranging, and expecting them ; then by ca- price or accident are ftill longer poflponed ; and at lafl:, in a few hours, are over and gone, and very feldom produce what they proniifed ! To the enjoyment of domeftic happinefs as little of art and dexterity is requifite as of preparation and. arrangement. It is entirely the work of nature and fmcerity j not the effect of preconcerted devices, of fludied parts, of a troublefome obfervance of the rules of behaviour, and the modes that prevail for the day. A found mind, and a good aifeftionate heart, is all, my dear brother, that is required to the enjoyment of this felicity. The lefs conftraint thou here putteft on thy mind and thy heart j the more freely thou ailowcft them both to act : fo much the more purely and perfectly wilt thou enjoy this happinefs. Though, in the great world, both of them mud crouch under the yoke of fafliion, and the mind can feldom venture to think aloud, and the heart feldom dares refign itfelf to its feelings; yet here they may both follow their bent unimpeded and free, and exert their powers and qualities, in fuch manner and degree as is fuitable to the inward impulfe and the prefent occafion. This alfo, my pious hearers, gives the happinefs cf domeftic life a great advantage, that the enjoy- ment of it is never attended by furfejt or difguft, by forrow THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 1 53 forrow or remorfe. It Is real enjoyment ; and the lincerity of it conftantly maintains its worth. It is innocent enjoyment ; and innocence fears no re- proach. It is foclal, affeftlonate enjoyment, which excites no jealoufy, and attra£ls no envy ; by which no one is injm*ed, with which none are unfatlsfied, from which none are fent empty away, and all are contented with each other. It is an enjoyment that is grateful to our Father in heaven, which is not dif- turbed but exalted by reflecting on his prefence, and which often confifts' in pious joyfulnefs for his bounty, in the heart-felt worfhip and praife of the Supreme eternal fource of being. After this pure enjoyment, thefe lofty pleafures, you have nothing to fear in calling yourfelf to account ; you need not be afhamed of what you have fpoken or done ; you Vv^ill have no caufe to think of appeafing thofe you have affronted, or of repairing the injury you have done to your brother; will chearfully think on God, on your immortality, and on the world to come. Reft and fleep will not fhun your embraces ; but you will the more completely relifli the comforts of them both, and delightful vifions of the innocent plea- fures you have enjoyed will frequently even there be floating in your mind. — And can you boaft of this, you that feek your folace and happinefs principally in great and fhining companies, in loud tumultuous pleafures, in places of thronged refort? Have ye never lamented the preparatives, the expence, the time, the pains you have bellowed upon them? Are 154 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. Are ye not frequently far more languid and heavy on returning from them than when you went to them? Have not often perturbation and concern about the confequcnces of what has pafled, or re- proaches for your indifcretions, accompanied you to your dwelling? Have they not often, for a longer or a fhorter time, deflroyed your peace ? Have they not often incapacitated you for prayer, or rendered it irkfome to you ? And if you have experienced this, and do fo fliil, then confefs the advantages which the quiet, innocent joys of domeflic life pofl'efs over yours. Laftly, the happinefs of domeflic life Is reflrifted to no clafs of men. It is attached neither to flation, nor to opulence, nor to elevation and power ; con- fined neither to the palace nor to the cottage. It maybe enjoyed by all manldnd, by perfons of every rank, of every age, in every place. The fources of it fland open to all ; to the poor no lefs than to the rich, to the low as well as to the high, to youth and age alike ; every one may draw from thefe wells, and every one draw pleafure to his heart*s defire. And which Is that external boon that In this refpect may be compared to the happinefs of domeflic life ? How few perfons are able to acquire an afcendency over others ! How few to fhine in the fplendours of exalted flation ! How few to obtain wealth and opulence ! How few to raife themfelves above others by perfonal diflinclions, or by arts and erudition, or by great and heroic exploits, and folace themfelves with THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. I 55 with the applaufe and adiniralion of their contem- poraries ! But all intelligent and good perfons, the fervant as well as his lord, the countr^anan as well as the citizen, the unlearned as well as the fcholar, all may enjoy the happinefs of domeftic life, and may enjoy it in its full perfection. It is human fentiment, it is human happinefs, which every creature that is human has an equal right to enjoy, and the fame means to obtain. And what a great, what an emi^ nently great value muft not this confer upon it I Now lay all this together. Confider what an ?igreeable relaxation from labour, and requital for jt, what a fdent and ferene felfrcnjoyment, what a free delightful communication of our inmofl thoughts and feelings, the enjoyment of domefiic happinefs is ; confider that it is as diverfified as inexhauftible ; that it makes up for the want of every other happinefs, but can never be itfelf fup- plied by any ; that while it is fo pleafant, it is alfo inllruftive and ufeful j that to the enjoyment of it neither great preparations nor peculiar dexterity and addrefs are required ; that it draws after it nei- ther difguft nor remorfe ; and that, in fine, it is peculiar to no condition of men, but is capable of being enjoyed by all ; and fay, after all this, whe- ther you know of any other external that has a greater worth than this, or even a worth fo great ? No, my dear brethren, if you would enjoy plea- fure, innocctit, pure, daily-renewing, never difgrac- ing 156 THE VALUE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. ing, never cloying ; delights worthy of the man and the chriflian : then feek them not at a diftance from you, fmce they lie at home ; feek them not in things which are not in your power, but in what is more your o-wm ; feek them in the happinefs of domeflic Hfe. If you may venture to expecl them any where, it is certainly there they muft be found i SERMON XXXIV. The Value of Friendjhip. /^ G OD, the eternal, inexhauftibie fource of all ^^ afFedlion and happinefs, what joys, what felicities hafl thou not prepared for us, by making us capable of affeftion towards each other, and of elevating that aifedion to pure and generous friendfhip ! What a counterbalance to all the troubles and burdens of life haft thou not given us therein ! Affording us a genial light through the rougheft and gioomieft paths of it ! Yes, all the difpofitions, all the ener- gies, all the propenfities and inftindts which thou haft planted in our nature, are good; they all teftify that thou loveft us with parental tendernefs, that thou haft not ordained us to grief, but to joy; not to mifery, but to happinefs ! Might only all thefe difpofitions be unfolded, thefe energies be fo exerted, thefe propenfities acquire fuch a diredion, vvA thefe inftinds 158 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. Inftiiids be fo ennobled as is conformable to thy gracious and paternal intentions towards us! Might wifdom and virtue, might the hght of religion dired and guide us all in this, and lead us all to the per- fection and happinefs whereof we are capable i Ho\v many unjufli and criminal complaints of human mifery would not then be done away ! How fatisfi- ed, how blefled fhould we not then be in the focial and chearful enjoyment of thy bounties ! How greatly facilitate to ourfelves by mutual affeCtion and friendfhip our progrefs on the way of duty and virtue, and how much more certainly and completely reach the end of our being ! O God, do thou fend the fpirit of love, of pure and generous love, into our hearts ! Open them to the charms of virtuous friendfhip. Enable us clearly to perceive and inti- mately to feel its great value ; and purify us from ^11 low, felfifli inclinations and paffions that are in oppofition to it. O God, to approach nearer to thee, the father of fpirits, and to unite ever clofcr the one to the other, is what all intelligent, fenfible beings are perpetually ftriving after, is alfo longed for by human fpirits ! May we ever be becoming more fufceptible of this happinefs in both rcfpeds, and be ever drawing more felicity from this fource of life. Blefs to that end the contemplations we now propofe to begin upon it. Strengthen our re- flections, and enable them to penetrate us with vir- tuous, generous fentimsnts and feelings. For this we THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 1 59 we prefent our fupplications to thee, as the votaries of thyfon Jefus, our ever blefled deliverer and lord; and, firmly relying on his promifes, addrefs thee farther as he prefcribed : Our father, &c. pRov. jcvm. 24. There is a friend that fticketh clofer than a brother. /CHRISTIANITY has frequently been reproached ^^ as unfavourable to friendfliip, fince it does not exprefsly inculcate it ; prefcribing indeed to its fol- lowers benevolence towards all, unlverfal kindnefs and brotherly love, but not difcriminate friendfliip. Friendfliip, however, is not properly a duty, not an indifpenlable obligation for all ; it is not to be com- manded, like juftice and general kindnefs ; its rife, its diredion very frequently depends on circumfl:ances and incidents that are not in our own power ; and even very intelligent and w^orthy perfons, of a fenfible and friendly heart, may and often mufl:, without any fault of theirs, forego the happinefs of friendfliip, I mean Und: and cordial friendfliip. At the fame time it mufl: be confefled, that the more a man opens his heart to univerfal benevolence, to philanthropy and brotherly love, thofi great commandments of 2 the l5o THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. the chriftian law ; the more he allows himfelf to be governed by the fpirit of them : fo much the more adapted and difpofed will he be to even the mofl noble and moft exalted friendihip. Nay, friendfhip would be a very general virtue, and the whole foci- ety of chriflians a band of friends intimately united together, if they all inviolably conformed to the precepts of that do£trine which they confefs, and fufFered themfelves to be animated by its fpirit. Of this, what we know of the founder of chrifli- anity and of its primitive confelTors, will not allow us to doubt. When we fee Jefus repay the gentle, tender, afFeftionate difpofition of his difciple John with diflinguiflied affedion and confidence, when we fee this difciple fo often leaning on his bread, and hear him continually called the difciple whom he loved, when we fee our Lord fele£ling the houfe of his friend Lazarus as his place of refuge and recrea- tion ; when we hear him fay to his attendants, " Our friend Lazarus fieepeth, but I go to awake him ;'* ■when he afterwards haftens to his grave, weeps at the fight of his body, and the beholders exclaim, *' See how he loved him !" how can we entertain the leafl doubt of the friendly difpofition of Jefus, or think that fuch a difpofition is at variance with his fpirit and his dodlrine ? — And the connexion that fubfifled between Jefus and his difciples and follow- ers in general, certainly prefents us .with an example of the mofl generous friendfhip. How indulgent, how affedionate, how familiar, was his converfe with them I fHE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. l6l tliem ! How great his concern for them ! "If ye feek me,*' faid he to the guards who came to feize him, " then let thefe go their way." It is recorded of him, that, " having loved his own, he loved them unto the end.'* And, when he was fhortly to be feparated from them, how he foothed, comforted, encouraged them ! How he feemed entirely to for- get himfelf and his mod important concerns, in his attention to them ! How tenderly he takes leave of them at the laflfupper, and enjoins them the com- memoration of him ! How he bears them in mind even during the whole courfe of his fufFerings, and in the laft fad fcene of them interefls himfelf in their welfare ! And how he haftened, as it were, on his refurredion from the dead to fiiev/ himfelf to them, and to dry up their tears ! Was not this friendfhip, was it not the mod exalted friendfhip ? • — And the firft chriftians, who, animated and infpired by the fpirit of chriftianity, were but one heart and one foul, who had all things, as it were, in common, who were daily of one accord together : did they not compofe a band of the moft intimately conneded friends, ce- mented together by the love of God and the love of Jefus and the love of each other ? No, chriflianity is by no means unfavourable to real, virtuous friendfliip. It, on the contrary, infpires us with all the difpofitions, incites us to all the ac- tions, and makes us ready for all the facrifices wherein the charaderiftics and the glory of friendfhip confifl. Only we mull learn how properly to under- voL. II. M ftand S62 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. fland and appreciate It. And this is the purport of my prefent difcourfe. In it 1 will- inquire with you into the value of friendfliip, one of the greatefl blelT- ings of life. To that end I will firfl fhew you, how friendfliip fliould be conftituted in order to have a great value ; then, wherein the value of it confifl:s j and, laflly, how we fliould behave in regard to it, in order that it may be and procure to us what it is capable of being and procuring to us. This will enable us to feel the truth of Solomon's Tentence which we have taken for our text : " There is a friend that fl:icketh clofer than a brother." Friendfliip, what a facred, what a venerable name, • — and how abufed and profaned 1 Now the moft captivating garb of virtue : now the maflv of vice. Now the indiflfoluble band of generous and noble fouls : and now the mofl: dangerous fnare of the be- trayer of innocence. Here the parent of truth, of franknefs, of fmcerity ; there the difguife of the mofl artful treachery, and the deepcfl cunning. One while a powerful incentive to the fairefl: and mofl magnanimous atchievements j at another, the fordid means of profecuting and attaining the mofl felfifh defigns. And all this while, real friendfliip fliill main* tains her fl:ation and fupports her dignity. She pre- ferves the exalted place flie has obtained among the virtues and prerogatives of human nature, among the fources of our felicity. But not every thing which bears her name, not every thing that borrows her garb, is Ihe herfelf. Let us therefore, for her vin- dicatioHj THE VALUE OF FRiENDSHIPk l6^ dkation, rightly difcrimlnate between appearance and reality. When I fpeak of the value of friendfhip, I mean not to comprehend under that term what the general abufe of it implies ; not every extenfive or more li- mited connection that may be founded on relation- Ihip, or on bufmefs, or on conviviality, or on focial refort to pleafures and diverfions, wherein neither intrinfic affection, nor tendernefs, nor confidence, has part. This is generally nothing more than a fel« filh intercourfe of trifling civilities and fervices, in which the heart has little or no concern ; and often a low traffic of mutual profit, which fubfifts for fo long a time as each can find his account in it. No, real friendfhip is pure and generous afFedion, is the clofe and complete union of hearts, which is teflified by an adual participation in all the joys and forrows of the other, a mutual and unreferved confidence, and the mofl difmterefted officioufnefs, and fo con- neds a man with his friend in regard to fentiments and fenfations, that they both of them make but one felf. Neither is fimilarlty or conformity of difpofition, of tafte, of propenfities and purfuits, nor the flrong attachment thence arifrng, the only, nor even the principal material for raifing the ftruclure of that friendfhip which truly deferves the name* This fimi- larity, this conformity, this mutual propenfity, may likewife fubfifl among fools and rogues, and do con- ned them together for a longer or a Ihorter time. Ma But l64 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. But who will decorate fuch combinations and con- nexions as thefe with the facred name of friendfhip ? They are not unfrequently confpiracies againft the general welfare, confederacies for focial depredation or debauchery. No, it is only the fimilarity of dif- pofition and fentiment, grounded on mutually good inclinations and propenfities, on generous and bene- ficial defigns and purfuits, that can fo draw men to- gether, and unite them fo intimately to each other, that they Ihall become in a manner one heart and one foul ; and only in this union can real and exalt- ed friendfhip confift. In order then that friendfhip fhould have a great and folid worth, it muft be built on real excellencies of mind and heart ; on intelligence and virtue, and on reciprocal efteem. Both heart and mind are alike necefiary to it. The good heart alone Is not fufficient to the happinefs of friendfhip. It mufl be guided by a found, well-regulated mind, if we would not frequently occafion our friend, againfl our will, more diffatisfa^lion than comfort, more harm than profit. The light that fhould enlighten us, and the warmth that fhould animate us, as friends, muft not be like the dazzling flafh of the lightning and the fcorching heat of the fummer's fun,- but like the light of the day and the mild and chearing breath of the fpring. — But even the befl regulated underflanding and the mofl foft and tender heart are but weak and frai! fupports of friendfhip without the aid of virtue. The friendfhip which is not founded on virtue, on reciprocal THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 165 reciprocal love to all that is beautiful and true and right and good, cannot be of long {lability. It is in- capable of any generous and magnanimous facrifice. The unprincipled man is always at certain periods interefted and felfifh. His vie^vs, his preferences, change with his inclinations, and take the colour of his pafTions ; and as often as thefe prefs into action, the voice of friendihip is heard no more, and its mod facred rights are trampled under foot. Friendfliip between the bad only lafts till one has had his ends of the other in the profecution of his plan, in the gratification of his fenfual defires, or in the oppref- fion and the ruin of a third. Only the virtuous man remains true to his friend even when he can procure him no more profit, and afford him no more affifl- ance, when he has nothing left to return him for all his civilities and fervices, but a heart that confeffes and feels their value. It is virtue alone, in fine, that can beget in me a folid and lading efteem towards my friend. And what is friendlhip without efteem? The creature of felf-intereft, of humour, of fenfuality, or of a bhnd mechanical impulfe, that is liable to as many alterations and accidents as the foundation^ whereon it reds. Farther : if we would render friendfhip of a^luai and great value, it mufl be difinterefted, generous, and at the fame time impartial. He that courts my friendfliip, only that he may promote and effetSl, through my means, certain purpofes advantageous to him, or hope§ to execute fome plan of ambition u 3 with i66 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. with greater facility ; who is only fo far and fo long my friend as he finds his account or his pleafure in, it ; he profanes the venerable name under which he conceals his bafe and felfifh fchemes. The true friend looks mo:e to the welfare of his friend than to his own, and feels himfclf much happier when he can give him any thing, can help him, can work for him, or fuffer for him, than when he receives aififtance or benefits from him. He honours and reveres the mind, the heart of his friend, that which makes him a refpedable and amiable man, and not his flation, his wealth, his figure, his influence over others, or any outward advantages. But, with all this, he is impartial. He overlooks not the greater accomplifh- ments and merits of others with whom he is lefs clofely conneded ; does them ample juflice ; fhews them, if they deferve and want it, flill more refpe£l, flill more reverence, flill more afTiflance, than to the friend of his heart ; places them, not only in thought but in deed, above him, and furthers their views and their profperity, even to the apparent detriment of his friend, whenever truth and juflice and the common interefl, require it of him. Yes, in order that friendfliip fhould be truly and highly valuable, fhould be morally good, then, third- ly, it need not be at variance either with general hu- manity, or with the benefit of the whole fociety of which I am a member, or with the particular relations wherein I fland towards my parents and family, and my fellow-citizens. Friendly affedion, any more thai^ The value of friendship. 167 ihan patriotifm, aeed not degenerate into mifan- thropy. I am neither to facrifice to my friend my duty, nor the claims of the innocent, nor thofe of the public welfare ; not fo exclurively to attach my- felf to him, and to live for him alone, as to deprive of my efleem and afteSion, my benevolence, or my converfe and fer vices, others who have equal de- mands upon them. This neither will nor can be required by the friendihip that is founded on wifdom and virtue ; nay, it would be injured, dilhonoured, difgraced, by fo doing. On the contrary, the more pleafure generous friends fhall facrifice to their duty; the more worthily each maintains his pofl in human and in civil fociety : fo much will the tye of friend- ihip, that holds them together, be more clofely draA^Ti. Laftly, friendfhip receives its greateft value from real heart-felt piety. This binds a man to his friend by all that is venerable, holy, and comfortable in re* ligion. This renders every thing that is of mofl confequence to mankind, their common concern.. This cleanfes their hearts from all fordid motives and low propenfities. This binds them together as feljow-worfhipersof God, as fellow-difciples of Jefus, as co-heirs of the future felicity, by the ftrong ce- ment of faith and hope. This opens to them a profe) pe6t into a fuperior ftate, where affedion will be everlafling, and where they will inceflantly be ftriv- Lng after perfedion with united powers. And of vhat fidelity, of what facrifices muft this not make M 4 thein 108 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. them capable ! What grand exalted fentiments in- terchangeably impart to them ! What a value muft it communicate to their friendlliip ! Friendfl ip thus framed, and refling on fuch a bottom, has a great, an ineflimable value ! Let us fee what gives it this value, or wherein it confifts. In the tirft place, friendfhip is the mofl intimate and. happy conjunftion of two fouls of the fame ge- nerous temper in heart and mind. All things in nature, my pious hearers, as well in the fpiritual as in the material world, are continually ftriving to unite, to obtain a clofer and completer union. As all the particles of matter reciprocally follow the law of attraction ; fo do fpirits likewife, fo do hu- man fouls ; fo all things tend and endeavour to af- fnnilate with whatever is or appears to be homoge- neous to them. This is the foundation of love ; this the ground of friendfhip. Some have fenfual and grofs, others fpiritual and noble conjunftions in view. The wifer, better, and more perfed two friends may be, fo much the more perfeQ: is their union alfo. When both of them are of a found and vigoroufly refie6:ing mind, have a capacious and fentimental heart ; when both have a widely extended knowledge, great and elevated notions, pure and generous fcclini^s ; both great activity in goodnefs : they then pclfefs, as it were, more points of contaft, fo much the greater fimilarity or homo- geneity, inceifantly drawing them clofer, and bind- ing them more indiifolubly together. They fee fo many THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 1 69 many objeas on the fame fide, from the fame point of view, in the fame combinations ; they thii^k and judge of fo many imporiant matters in the fame way ; they are on fuch a number of occafions pene- trated by the very fame fentiments ; employ them- felves fo frequently and fo earneftly about the very fame things : that each fees the other in himfelf ; is fenfible to himfelf in the other, and both fo think and will and feel and acl:, as though they were but one. Friendfliip is, in fiict, a reduplicated or mul- tiplied mode of exiftence, and of effecting and en- joying good. Each exiils at the fame time in the other, is operative and efiedive by him. The good which one does, is done by both ; the fatis faction that one enjoys, is enjoyed by the other likewife ; the merit of one is alfo fet down to the account of the other. Both are animated by the fame com- mon intereft, and are fet upon the mod diverfitied activity. And hov/ much mufl not all this concur to unite like conflltuted fouls ; and how happy mull not the fentiment, the enjoyment of this union be ! True friendfhip is, farther, the mod intimate community of all the joys and forrows of life ; a community, vvhich as much improves and heigh- tens the one, as it dlminiflies and alleviates the other. No joy is of any great value which remains entirely locked up within miy heart, which I cmnot impart to a being of my kind, which I cannot en- joy with him ; even the moft exalted, the divineft of all joys, even the joys of piety, would ceafe to be I/O THE VALUE OF FPvIENDSHIP. be what they are, if I. could not enjoy them In the fentiment of the prefence of God, and of my con- nection with him ; and every even the flighted forrows may become oppreflive, may be intolerable, if I be forced to bear them alone, if none of ail that furround me will fuffer with me, or if I am not fupported under them by the fentiment of the prefence of the Almight}^ But what joy will not be improved and multiplied, what joy will not fre- quently be augmented into tranfport, by communi- cating it to the friend of my heart, when I know that he feels it as much as I do myfelf, that he will call my attention to every circumftance, every con- fequence, every efFe£l; of it, that can increafe its value, and that he will, for me and with me, give praife for it, from the fullnefs of my heart, to God, the giver of joy ! And what folid and good reflec- tions, what humane and generous fentiments, what honourable purpofss, v/hat ufeful employments, what circumi*pe6l profecution of them, what inno- cent enjoyment of nature, what improvements in knowledge or in virtue, what progrefs towards our common aim, mufl not this produce in friends thus connedled together, and augment their fatisfa£lions in it ! How mufl not all be ennobled in their eyes by the pleafure they mutually take in it, by the heart of fentiment and aifeftion wherewith they en- joy it ! — And their forrows, how much more toler- able, how much lighter, mufl they not be to them, by not being abandoned to tlieir own violence and fury, THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 171 fury, by their not remaining locked up in the re- cefles of the heart, where they would rankle and the more deeply infiid their ftlngs, but are fliaken forth from the bofom of the one Into that of the other ; all that tormented and pained him Is entrufl- ed to the other without refjrve, not even concealing that which probably no danger, no torture, would have extorted from him ! No, neither fuffers for himfelf alone ; neither bears alone the burden that opprefles him ; each obtains from the other all the comfort, all the counfel, every afh (lance he ever has it in his power to give him. And what a Rvec l is friendfliip able to infufe even into the bitterefl forrows of human life ! What a light it diifufes over the darknelles that furround it ! What vi- gour and courage it infplres into the weary and heavy-laden heart ! What little circumftances does it not apply to chear and revive It ! With what a lenient hand it binds up Its wounds ! What attention, what ofhcioufnefs, what complacency, what indulgence, what facrifice, is too trouble- Ibme or too dear to this end ! And what re- pays and rejoices them more than when they fee the fuffering friend fuiTer lefs, fuifer more compofed- ly, or fuffer no more ^ when they can fee him re- ftored, flrengthened, cheared, and fatisfied, again in pofleffion of the comforts of life .? Real, virtuous friendfhip is, thirdly, an united purfult of one and the fame end, an animated en- (ieaYOur after ever iiicreafmg perfedion. And he w Hiuch 172 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. much muft not their united endeavours be thus faci- litated in the glorious attempt ! Hand in hand they walk the path of wifdom and virtue ; with united hearts, with combined forces, they labour at their improvement and happinefs. One quickens and encourages the other to proceed ; one incites the other to induftry and perfeverance, one kindles the other to generous and noble deeds. Each watches over the other, as much as over himfelf; warns him of this danger, reminds him of that duty, fup- ports him in each toilfome, each painful enterprife, 2.f:d afFeclIonateiy recalls him from every IndireO: and devious way. If one flunible or fall, the other ralfes him again ; If one grow flack and weary on his courfe, he is infpired with new firmnefs and courage by the voice and the example of the other. Each finds in the other the {kill, the ability, the dexterity, on a hundred occafions, which he would never have found in himfelf. They never are weak- ened or retarded by low felf-interefl ; but a generous emulation animates them both, and allows neither one or the other to be left behind. They fight in conjundion againfb every diforderly pafiion that flirs v/ithin, againfl every attack of envy and derifion, againft the baleful influence of prevailing principles and practices, againft every carking care and every mining forrow. And how much muft not this faci- litate the conqueft over ail their foes ! The more impediments and perils they meet with on the way, the more difficulties they have to encounter: fo much THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. I73 much the fafter will the knot that conne£ls them be drawn ; fo much the more will their fidehty be exercifed and fecured ; fo much the more poignant will the mutual fentiment of friendfhip be ; and fo much the more effectual their united efforts to van- quifh every obflacle, to furmount every difficulty, and to force their way through dangers and calami- ties to the prize of their high calling, and to feize it with concurrent ardour. The fevereft penury, the moil manifefl danger, the hardefl and mofl coflly facrifices, are at once the fuflenance and the left of their generous friendfhip ; and the more a friend can do and rilk and facrifice and fulFer and laborioufly acquire for his friend, fo much the hap- pier is he in the fentiment of his friendfhip. And of what adions and what enterprifes are not fuch friends capable ! What degree of virtue, what per* fedlion is unattainable to them ! And what a value, what an ineflimable value muft not all this confer on friendfliip ! What ler- reftrial happinefs, what outward diflindlion, can be compared to it ! None 5 it is of. far greater value than wealth and honour and elevation and power and all the fplendour of earthly thrones. With it, a man may be deprived of them all, and yet be happy; without it, though he had them all, his heart would never be fatisfied, nor his thirft after happinefs be afliiaged. — Even love muft yield the palm to friendfliip. Senfual love is confumed and deftroyed by enjoyment j and when it is not raifed 3 upon 174 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. upon frlendfliip, or does not change into it, it in- evitably draws after it fatiety, difguft, and averfion* The joys of friendihip alone neither droop nor de- cay, and the fruition of them never deadens defire. If friendfhip be lefs lively and vehement than love, it is therefore the more lafting and pure. Its ob- jects are capable of continued advancement, of in- ceflfant perfeftion ; on which new beauties, new- charms, new bloiToms and flowers, for ever appear. It combines not flowers which bloom to-day and are withered to-morrow; it incorporates ^not frail ma- terials of dufl: and corruption : but its conne£lions are of fouls, of fpirits, of immortal beings ; beings for ever ralfmg themfelves higher above the dufl:, for ever approaching nearer to the Father of fpirits, the original fource from whence they fprung. Love generally dies on this fide the grave : but friendfhip extends to the regions beyond it, into the better world to come ; death only tranfplants it into a new fcene, where its fatisfaftions will be purer and more perfed:, and it will difplay itfelf in fl;ill nobler efforts and more glorious aftions. Great as the value of friendfhip is, however en- viable the perfon that enjoys it, yet is it by no means the prerogative of the darling of fortune, a benefit to which only perfons of fuperior flations can make fjretenfion. No, friendfiiip feldom takes up her abode with the rich, flill feldomer with the high and mighty. She prefers the cottage to the palace, the fimple manjiers of the private perfon contented with THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP* 175 vlth his moderate circumftances, to the pomp and luxuries of the great ; often does flie rather chufe the houfe of forrow than the feat of feflivity. Men of the inferior claffes keep more together, are more fenfible to their natural equahty, crofs and circum- vent each other lefs in their views and enterprifes, are lefs frequently competitors for the fame pre- eminence, are not fo diilipated and relaxed, nor fo often forget themfelves amidil a multitude of extra- neous objeds : and the fufferer is m want of a fyra- pathifmg being, one into whofe breafl he may pour out his forrows, whofe prefencc and participation will comfort and chear him, and in whofe conver- fation he may forget his diftreffes and his pains. Thus friendfhip very frequently is a counterpoife to mifer)% while the want of it deprives the mofl: fhining circumflances of the greatelt part of their worth. Plain confiderations ; which will not allow us to doubt that friendfiiip is a highly covetable blef- fmg, that it is the choicefl and beft privilege of life. Happy he who polfefles this rare advantage, who has learnt to prize it as it deferves, and is fenfible to the fehcity it confers. To him it is a never-failing fpring of tranquillity and comfort, of fatisfadion and joy. To him mufl the path of life be far fmoother, more luminous and pleafant, than to the "wretch who is obliged to wander through his courfe, without a companion, without a friend to obferve his ways and partake of his pleafures, who mufl: bear lyS THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. bear Its troubles -without afTiftance, and may often fall for want of a fupport. Wouldfl thou, my chrifllan brother, know the happinefs of friendfhip from experience^; then be cautious in chufmg thy friend. Herein let wifdom and virtue condutl: thee. Let not the outward graces, nor friendly looks, nor a fmiling counte- nance, nor flattering fpeeches, nor fludied civilities, nor the firfl impreffion of complacency, nor every flmilarity in fentiment or tafle, beguile thee. Give not carelefsly thy heart to any one that applies for it, or who procures thee prefent pleafure. Place not thy confidence in any thoughtlefs, inconfiderate perfon, any convivial jefter, any witling, any fcorner of religion and fevere morality. Ccnneft not thy- felf with any to whom the band of wedlock, the ties of domeftic and of focial life, and the dill more awful relation that unites the creature with the Creator, are not facred. In thy choice, prefer underftanding and probity to all the glare of riches and the pomp of ftation, candour and opennefs of heart to the mofl polifhed fentiments and the moft amufing wit ; prefer even the fevereft reprover to the mofl agreeable flatterer. Chufe for thy friend, the friend of truth, the friend of virtue, the friend of humanity, the friend of God. Rather forego a ■while longer the happinefs of friendfliip, than run the leafl: rifli of finding wretchednefs and mifery where thou foyghteft for the pureft of human de» lights ! Wouldft THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 1 77 Wouldft thou, farther, enjoy the happinefs of friendfliip, and that in a rational and lafting manr ner ? Then form no extravagant, no romantic con- ■ceptions of it. Amufe not thyfelf with the notion of a friend that no where exifled, or who mufl have been a ufelefs or a worthlefs member of fociety if he did fo exiil. Be reafonable in thy demands on thy friend. Require no perfection more than hu- man, no infaUibiHty, of him. Forget not that he is a man, a frail circumfcribed creature, liable like thee to err and to miflake, and m-uft and will be fo while he is a man. Forget not that he is a father, a hufband, a brother, a citizen, head or member of fome larger or lefs fociety, and {lands in various conneiiions with a thoufand others. Require not therefore that he (hould always judge exactly right, give thee conftantly the beft advice, have his coui;- tenance always equally bright, his behaviour always alike agreeable and pleafmg, his heart ever equally open and fenfible, or his interest in whatever con- cerns thee equally a£liye and warm. Demand not of him that he fhould live only for thee, converfe with thee alone ; ftill lefs, that he fnould wound his confcience for thy fervice, or facrifice to thee the welfare of thofe who look up to him for pro- tection and fupport. No, the firmeft tie of friend- ship is mutual exactitude and integrity in the dif- charge of our duties, as well as mutual indulgence and patience. VOL. II. H Wouldft 178 THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. WoLildfl thou, thirdly, render the enjoyment of this happinefs lafling as well as complete ?" Then deal circumfpedlly with thy friend. The flower of friendfliip mufl be reared and tended v/ith a gentle hand ; it has need of nurture and refrelhment, to preferve it from fading and v/ithering away. Bear then with the harmlefs weaknefl'es of thy friend, though probably diflafteful to thee. Impofe on him no burden that he may find difficult to bear. Give him as freely, at leafl:, as thou receiveft of him. Put him not to trials which may imply dif- trufl or awake fufpicion. Extort no fervices or at- tentions ; and force not from him the fecret with which he is not willing to entruft thee. Beware of imputing to him each look, each word, each trifling adion, which might not, probably, have been ac- companied with a fufficient degree of energy, as a breach of friendfhip, when thou art once become fure of his heart. Let not the power thou haft over him degenerate into authority and rigour ; or the freedom and familiarity that fubfifts between you, into a total negiedt of the rules of good breeding and propriety. Wouldft thou, laftly, enjoy the happinefs of friend- fhip, and learn its full value from experience ; then be pundual and exa£t in the difcharge of all the duties thou oweft to thy friend. Pay a fedulous attention to his wants, his views, and his connec- tions ; think nothing that concerns him to be in- different to thee, but confider his interefts as in. feparable THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. 1 79 feparable from thy own. Be before-hand with him, as often as thou canft, in what he may exped ov require from thy friendfhip ; and let chearfulnefs and pleafure accompany and animate whatever thou doll in his behalf. Thank him for the civilities and fervices he accepts from thee, as much as for thofe thou receivefl from him. Above all things be fcrupuloufly exa£t and faithful In the mod important and generous demonftrations of virtuous friendfhip. Exhort, incite, encourage, and ftimulate him to every thing that is laudable and good ; and be not deterred from it by the fear of forfeiting his efleem and affection. The friendfhip that will not fland this trial, that will not be the firmer for it, is not deferving of that honourable name, deferves not to be cherifhed with all poffible care, as the chiefefl felicity of life. Indeed, thou mufl not be difcou- raged by the firfl unfuccefsful attempt. Thou muft even endeavour to procure admiflion and audience to thy admonitions, thy warnings and thy reprehen- fions, by every thing that is perfuafive and prevail- ing in friendfhip. Thou muft even repeatedly bear with the difpleafure of thy once more equitable friend, and bear it with undiminifhed affedtion. But, when he will by no means allow himfelf to be admonlfhed, to be cautioned, to be reprehended by thee, if he will only endure to be flattered ; then '— let the bond of attachment between you be can- celled for ever. It was not didated by wifdom and virtue, and might eafily have led thee into a fnare. — N 2 But, l8o THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP. But, if thou art juftified in requiring this of thy friend, then Hkewife, on the other hand, take the admoni- tions, the fuggeflions, the remonflrances and reproofs of thy friend in good part, and with a grateful re- fentment. Refpe£t and love him the more, that he may have lefs frequent occafions of giving thee fuch teflimonies of his efteem and affection ; and fo run with him towards the mark of human perfection, to which every virtue, every fpecies of happinefa, d.m\ therefore friendfliip, infallibly conducts, SERMON XXXV. The Value of civil and religious Libert f^ /~\ GOD, the creator and father of mankind, far ^^ haft thou elevated us above the beafts of the field ! Of greater perfeftion and happlnefs haft thou rendered us capable ! Thou haft imparted to us reafon and liberty. And what bleffings haft thou not granted us by them ! What means of becoming ever better, ever Mailer, ever happier ! Yes, thou haft formed us after thy own image, and imprinted on us, thy children, evident marks of our origin from thefe. By reafon and liberty we can have commu- nion with thee, and ever approach nearer to thee, ever gain a greater refemblance to thee, the firft, the moft perfed being. O God, with what privileges haft thou not endowed us, the inhabitants of the earth! How happy are we, in being that which thy love has ordered us to be 1 Oh might we but N 3 ever l82 THE VALUE 6f LIBERTY, ever become more intimately fenfible to our dignity and that of our brethren, and ever think and a£t in greater conformity with it ! We are all thy children, all of divine defcent, all endowed by thee with the fame privileges, all ordained by thee to perfection and happinefs. And as fuch we (hould all elleem ^nd love each other, all live together as brethren and fillers, and none miflead another from his vocation or degrade him from his dignity, but all be aiding to each other towards the attainment and mainte- nance of it. This is thy will, thou gracious parent of us all ; and to do thy will is our glory and our fe- licity. Oh teach us then, with ever increafmg fide- lity to accompliih thy will, and ever more completely to enjoy that felicity. Worthily to ufe our own li- berty, and to refped and promote the liberty of our brethren, jfhould be the honour, the moft zealous endeavour of us all ! Do thou, mofl merciful father, put a flop to the opprefTion and tyranny of every kind under the burden whereof fo many of thy chil* dren on earth continue to figh ; break the bonds that disfigure and degrade the work of thy hands j revive and raife the fentiment of their dignity almofl cxtind in fuch numbers of mankind, and let the triumphs of freedom over thraldom be more con- fpicuous and glorious from day to day. Blefs the meditations on thy word which we are now about to begin. Teach us all duly to eftimate the value of liberty, and let the fentiment of it infpire us with all generous difpofuions, with difpofitigns worthy of the man CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. 183 man and the chriftian. Difpell by thy holy fpirit «very prejudice that may weaken thefe good effects of truth ; and hear our prayer, through Jefus Chrift, by whom thou hafl called us to the glorious liberty of the fons of thee, our God. With filial confidence we implore it of thee, as his difciples, and addrefs thee farther in his name : Our father, &c. I COR. vii. 23. Be not ye the fervants of men. ^ I ^HE fpirit of chriftianity is a fpirit of liberty. -*- Of this its dodrines, its precepts, as well as the character of its founder, and the whole temper it communicates to its true profefTors, allow us no room to doubt. Where the fpirit of the Lord is, fays the apoflle, there is liberty. Chriftianity pro- motes liberty of each kind, civil as well as religious, among mankind. — If it any where is not fo appar- ently favourable to it ; if any where it feems to re- quire of its followers an unlimited and implicit obe- dience towards magiftrates and governors ; this was extremely neceffary in the primitive times for the con- firmation and extenfion of it. The chriftian doc- trine muft have been clear of ever}^ thing that might N 4 excite 184 THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, excite fufpicion of worldly aims, or fear of civil com^ motion. It muft firfl dilTeminate more inftrudion and morality among mankind, before it had need to give incitement and encouragement to the vindica- tion of their rights. A vigorous and lively fentiment of liberty in men, who are but little cultivated, and have no firm principles, is often, generally fpeaking:, more prejudicial than ufeful. But the fpirit of chrif- tianity, the whole fyftem of thought and temper it inculcates, has indifputably the advancement of both kinds of liberty in vieAV. No do6lrine whatever caufes a man to feel more forcibly his natural equa- lity with all others ; none more exprefsly preaches to him humanity and brotherly love, univerfal kind- nefs and beneficence and generofity ; none infpires him with a livelier fentiment of his dignity as a man; none is more fertile in great, generous, and elevated thoughts and fentiments of mind and heart ; none teaches a man to confider death with greater com- pofure, and to meet it with more firmnefs ; none makes him readier to die for his brethren and for the public good, as Jefus died for mankind : and who fees not that no difpofitions can be more manifeflly at variance with flavery and bondage, and none more favourable to freedom than thefe ? Oh were they but more general among chriflians, and that even rulers and governors would but learn to think in a more chriflian manner I How much advantage would accrue to the caufe of freedom, and confe- quently of human happinefs ! Far be it from me to preach CIVIL AND REL-IGIOUS. 1^5 preach diforder in the ftate, or difunion and fchifin in the church ! But to preach and to promote li- berty, and to render the greater or the Imaller pro- portion of it you enjoy the dearer to you, is a duty of mankind, a chriftian duty ! and to contribute fomething to the difcharge of this duty is the fcope of my prefent difcourfe. In it I fliall inquire into the value of liberty, civil and reIi:j;ious, and its influence on human happinefs, and therein lay before you the importance of the apoftohcal admonilion in oiir text: " Be not ye theferyants of men." In this defign, I fhall, firfl, make a few obfervations for afcertaining the true notion of liberty and its real value ; then ex- amine into the peculiar value of the two kinds ; and laftly fubjoin fome fuggeftions in regard of our be- haviour towards it. Civil liberty is therein its greateft perfection where we are only fubjeft to the laws, and chufe our own reprefentatives in enaOiing thofe laws. In other con- ftitutions of government there exifts always fo much the greater or iefs degree of freedom as the laws more or Iefs bear fway, and as even the arbitrary will and power of the ruler is circumfcribed by them. So likewife religious liberty is there in its greateft per- fection where a man is fubjedt in religious matters, to no other laws than the precepts of reafon and his own confcience, and unimpededly may follow their impulfes and injundions. And when hkewife here limitations are fet, then does fo much more or Iefs liberty of this kind obtain as fuch limitations are more extenfive 1 85 "fHE VALL^fi 0? LIBERTV, extenfive or confined, as they felate to eflentlal or uneflential matters. That we may rightly eftlmate the value of this li- berty, it is necelTary to make feveral remarks, and accurately to diflinguifh it from what is often called, but is not, liberty. Liberty, in the firil place, is not licentioufnefs, not anarchy. To be free, does not imply, to acl with< out principles, without views, according to the dic- tates of unbridled inclination ; not to break through and defpife all reftraints ; not to reckon every law as a violent impofitlon and burden, and to rejed It as foon as we think or feel it In the leafl degree incon- venient to us ; not to fet afide all that is fit, and to get over all that is decent j not to exift and live barely for onefelf, without regard to others. No, laws, accurately defined, inviolable, obligatory on all flates and conditions of men, on princes and magif- trates as well as on fubjefts, are the firft and firmed foundation of liberty. Wouldfl thou enjoy a liberty controuled by no law, limited by no authority. In the full power of doing merely what thou art pleafed to do ; then get thee from the fociety of men ; re- turn to the woods, to the pretended (late of nature ; live among the animals thy relations, the beafts of the field ; or lead the life of a hermit, divefl thyfelf of all the privileges, and renounce all the comforts of focial life. For, where men live together, and would live fecurely and happily together, there mufl be law, there mufl law bear fvvay, there mufl every one CIVIL AND PvELIGIOUS. ^ 1^"^ one facrlfice a part of his natural liberty to the peace- ful poiTeffion of what he retains. No, the greater the freedom of the citizen ; fo much the more facred fhould all the laws of the ftate, the firil as well as the lad, be to him. The more freely the worihiper of God may think, the lefs he is tied to forms and confeffions ; fo much the ftrider and more confci- entioufly fhould he conform to the eternal and un- changeable laws of reafon, and be guided by the pre- cepts of a revelation which he confefles to be divine. Farther. The love of liberty is not a querulous difpofition, is not a fpirit of oppofition to all laws and ordinances, to all received notions and dodlrines, a repugnance to all inflitutions, eftablifliments, and ufages, introduced into civil life and the public wor- ihip. No, the more fenfible a perfon is to the value of his own liberty ; the lefs will he be difpofed au- thoritatively to fet bounds to the liberty of others. The more unmoleftedly he may follow the dictates of his own confcience ; fo much the more does he refpe(5l the confcience, even the erroneous confcience, of his brother. The lefs he is tied down to opinions and formularies of dodrine himfelf, and the more fenfibly he is hurt when his faith and his perfuafions are made the objefts of derifion ; fo much the more indulgent is he to the opinions and perfuafions of others, and the lefs will he allow himfelf to contro- vert or to redify them otherwife than by argument, and in the fpirit of humility and meeknefs. The unfeafonable reprover, the biting fcgffer in this way, 3 . Js 100 THE VALVE OP LIBERTY, is not folicitous fo»the caufe of liberty, but for bi« own ; he is not animated by the love of liberty, but by pride and the luft of dominion. Laflly, it is with liberty, as with all the other blefT- ings of life ; it is only of great value to them who know how to ufe it properly. Often is it made a fertile fource of difturbance, divifion, tumult, and confufion to the citizen as well as to the worlhiper, in the church no lefs than in the (late. Often is it made inftrumental to the paffions, to pride, to vanity^ to felf-intereft, to pertinacity, to ambition ; often does it degenerate into arrogance, into licentioufnefs, into fury : and then it can certainly produce no- thing but mifery. In the hands of weaknefs and vice, every thing becornes dangerous, even wifdom itfelf. But this detrads nothing from the value of liberty any more than of wifdom. No, great, ineftimably great, is the value of it \ The happinefs it procures or promotes, far outweighs the accidental evils that attend it. The fubfequent conderations, intended to fet its value in a proper light, cannot fail to convince us of this truth. Liberty is the natural ftate and the warmeft wifh of man. Every thing that lives and thinks is pant- ing and ftriving after freedom. The beafl bears not the trammel without violence, and flruggles under the yoke we lay upon his neck ; and the more fenti- ment of felf, the more reflexion a man poflefles above a bead, fo much the more oppreffive and intolerable muft it be to him to bear fimiiar or heavier fhackles, andt CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. 1 89 and to figh under a fimilar or a more galling yoke. No, man is not born for flaver)'-, he is not defigned for bondage. This appears from his difpofitions, his capacities, his faculties, and the confcioulhefs he has of them all, and the voluntary and deliberate ufes to which he can apply them. Every man has thefe difpofitions, thefe capacities, thefe faculties, and this confcioufnefs, in common with all other men. No man is eflfentially diflinguifhed from the others. No one belongs to a higher fpecies or order of beings. All are equal with each other, as men ; all are bro- thers and fillers in the properefl fenfe of the words. To determine ourfelves, to aft by our own percep- tions, is what exalts mankind above the beafts of the field, and makes us what we are. He who defpoils him of this liberty, or arbitrarily circumfcribes it, therefore degrades and debafes hum^anity, and ren- ders himfelf guilty of treafon againft the human race. He ufurps a pre-em.inence over his brethren, over creatures of his kind and nature, which only beings of a fuperior order to m^n can claim, like that which man maintains over the beads of the field. This natural equality of men, and the rights that are grounded on it, are undeniable and unalienable. The unefl'ential but accidental difference of weak and ftrong, of greater or lefs m.ental and bodily powers of men, may and ihould occafion mutual dependence, various connections and regards, but not tyranny and ilavery. Even the feebleft, the mod limited man. Is ftill a man, who indeed is in want of a guide, a counfellor, ig<^ THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, counfellor, an overfeer and provider, but not a ty- rannical lord. Civil as well as religious fociety ihould be that in the large, which domeilic fociety is in the little. In them, as in this, fliould be father and children, teacher and fcholar, leader and fol- lower, head and members, lawgiver and fubjeccs j but neither there nor here fhould tyranny and bond- age be. This is the voice of nature, fpeaking aloud to all intelligent beinn;s, and her behefts and decrees fhculd ever be facred to every one who is ftill alive to the fentiment of himielf. Liberty, civil and religious liberty, brings, fecondly, the mental powers of men into greater play, fets them in greater and more diverfified adion, and thus furthers their perfection. Tlie more diverfified and important the affairs which occupy the human mind, and whereon it is free to think, to judge, and to difcourfe ; the more incitement has it from within and from without, to difplay, to ufe, and to exert its powers, and to flrengthen them by thefe ufes and exertions. And what can be more important to a man than the concerns of the ftate to which he be- longs on one hand, and the concerns of the religion he profeffes, on the other ? To whom can his own perfonal happinefs, and to whom can the means and ways by which it is advanced or retarded, be indif- ferent ? And who can refle6t and difcourfe on thefe fubjecls, if he be allowed to do fo at all, without great attention and participation, without a manifold ap- plication and exercife of his mental powers ? He, indeedj CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. I9I indeed, who is not allowed to think and to know more of matters of ftate or religion, than it is held expedient to let him think and know ; he who is obliged to judge of what is true and right and good by prefcriptions and fixed formularies ; he has foon excogitated the matter ; he will fhortly become in- different both to the ff ate and to religion ; will let others think and determine for him ; will decline all refearch after truth ; will fupprefs every doubt ; and his mind foon fmks, in regard to his mofl important concerns, into a carelefs flumber, into abfolute in- action. Only where freedom reigns, only there reigns the true life of the mind. - There all its con- ceptions are brought forth, all its capacities unfolded and applied. There it takes a cordial interefl in whatever happens, in all that relates to mankind. There it fhrinks from no obflacle, is deterred by no difficulty that it meets with in its reflections and fcru- tinies, by no chimera of fuperflition, by no dread of man. There is unimpeded communication, unem- barraffed circulation of every truth, of every doubt, of every thought, that once excites attention ; and each ray of light is reflected on a hundred benighted minds, each fpark of celeflial fire is communicated to a hundred generous hearts ; one mind afFifts ano- ther in its inveftigations and efforts. And if mental perfection be thus promoted among mankind, who can refufe to acknowledge the value of liberty by jneans of which it is efieded i* Liberty, 19^ THE VALUE OF LIBERTY. Liberty, civil as well as religious liberty, is, in the third place, the only efficacious prefervative againil fervility, with ail its baleful and degrading cbnfequen- ces. Where the former, where civil liberty is want- ing, there ftation and rank fupply the place of merit, gold and filver, greatnefs and power, dignities an4 titles avail much more than the intrinfic qualities of the man whom they decorate or invefl ; there abfq- lute command ufurps the place of reafon, arbitrary punifliments and prefents that of all inward incite- ment and proper determination to a£l in this manner or in that ; there the lov/ly crouch before the lofty, the poor in the prefence of the rich, and the fubject flands terrified at his prince ; there one blindly ap- proves what is faid and admires what is done by the other y there each thinks and lives far more in the opinion and the judgment of others than in himfelf and from his own feelings ; there the art of flatter- ing, the art of diifembUng, the art of mifreprefenting, are the mofl important arts of life ; there no one undertakes or performs more for the national benefit than he is abfolutely obliged to do ; there every one feeks to evade the laws, to negledt his duty, to fhrinj?: from his obligations with impunity, and to feize on the rewards of merit without defert ; there men who ^re in all refpecls equal, there brethren live fo toge- ther as if they were perfectly alienated froni each other, as if they were creatures of a quite different kind. And how can this fail of ftifling in the very bud every fpecies of generous fentiment and action j how CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. I93 how effeflually mufl it not eradicate all philanthropy and patriotifm ! — Where the other, where religious liberty is wanting, there religion appears generally under a gloomy and a horrid afped ; there is {he by no means the familiar friend of man, his beft and firmed comforter, but a woeful difturber of his peace, a fevere and haughty defpot ever threatening and dilating, and arrogating an implicit credulity, an implicit obedience ; there mull her confefTors be conflantly doing violence to themfelves, fupprefling their natural feelings, and contradifting and counter- ading the plained declarations of their reafon ; there mufl they be filled more with a flavifh dread of God and of the future world, than with filial love towards their heavenly father, and cheared by delightful prof- pe£ls in a better life ; there mufl they teflify to men, as weak and as frail as themfelves, the reverence and fubmifTion which are only due to God and truth ; there will a man be often in thraldom to the mofl fhameful fuperflition, and mufl groan under all the terrors and humiliations of it. And how can reli- gion appear venerable and amiable to him ? How can it be and afford to him what it is ordained to be and to afford to mankind ? — No, there alone where civil liberty prevails, a man is of that confequence a man ihould be; there underflanding and honefty pafs current for more than all outward diflindions ; there mankind live together as fo many brothers and fiflers ; there every on? (hews himfelf for what he is, and is accordingly efleemed ; there truth and open- VOL. II. o nefs 194 THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, nefs in the vifage and in the manners, in words and deeds, may venture to appear ; there, by a fecret impulfe, the laws are honoured and obferved ; there manly, generous, and patriotic fentiments prevail ; there each man underllands and promotes, accord- ing to his means, the public welfare, and offers up to it, with fatisfadion, his perfonal advantages and ^leafures. — There alone, where religious liberty pre- vails, will religion be truly important to the under- ftanding and the heart of man ; there it employs them both ; there it coincides with his whole fyftem of fenfation and thought ; there it gives light and animation to them both ; there it may become the conftant guide and conductor of mankind, having reafon and liberty for its companions ; there it calls around neither fears nor terrors, but imparts courage and confidence to its votaries ; there it exalts the mind of man, and expands and compofes his heart ; there it condefcends to his comprehenfion, is in no contradidion to the adual world, with his natural feelings and experiences, requiring nothing of him which he is unable to grant, and interdicting him no- thing that is harmlefs and good ; there it ennobles all things in his eyes, infpires him with comfortable and filial fentiments towards God, and makes him regard every duty as a pleafure. And how diftant is not all this from that fervility which is one con- fequence of oppreflion and bondage ! And what a value mull it not give to liberty ! For CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. I95 For the fame reafon, liberty is, fourthly, favour- able to every fpecies of virtue. A flave, as fuch, cannot be virtuous. He can obey ; but he obeys, not from inclination, but from compulfion. He can abftain from evil and do good ; but he has neither an inward abhorrence of the one, nor a preponder- ant love to the other. He abftains from the wrong and does the right, only infomuch as he is obliged to abftain and compelled to do. Thus does the man who is not animated by liberty obferve the laws of the ftate, thus does he obferve the precepts of .reli- gion. Both are oppreffive, as a heavy burden forced upon him, which he would fain fhake off if it could be done without danger. He accordingly difcharges himfelf of it as often as he is unobfei-ved, and can indulge the hope of efcaping corre£lion. — No, liberty is the principle, the foul of all real virtue, of all great endeavours and truly glorious actions. When I may myfelf examine and judge what I do or neglect, what I think and believe, what I am authorized to hope and what I ought to fear ; when I may convince myfelf by rational and free difquifition, of the truth of my belief) of the equity and reafonablenefs of my duties, of the folidity of my hope or my fear, and then may follow my perceptions and convictions : then it is my own heart that impels me ; then I adhere firmly to that which I acknowledge for truth ; then I do that which I ought to do, willingly and readily, according to jny beft abilities ; then a£lual hatred arifes in me Sigainft every thing^vil j and real, cordial love to- 0 2 wards 19^ THE VALUE OF LIBERTY^ wards whatever is beautiful and right and good j then I am deterred neither by obftacles nor difficult ties from hearkening to confcience, from the difcharge of my duty ; then do I, not barely that which I am t)bhged to do, but all that I am able to perform ; then I think and act in fecret, jufl; as in the fight of the world ; then harmony fubfifts in all that I think and will and do ; then I flrive conflantly after purer and higher perfedion ; and then alone I ad virtu- oufly and am truly virtuous. And where has virtue ihone in greater luflre, where has Ihe undertaken and atchieved more glorious deeds, where has her lenfe and fpirit more generally prevailed, where has ihe left fairer monuments of difmtereftednefs, of ge- nerofity, of fortitude, of painful and magnanimous facrifices, of mofl extraordinary vigour and greatnefs of mind, than in places where fire has enjoyed the benign influence of liberty, and been totally animated by its energy ? Liberty, civil as well as religious liberty, is, fifthly, the parent, the guardian of arts, of fciences, of every kind of public and private profperity. He that would attain to any confiderable degree of proficiency in Ibme liberal art, or carry it to a certain degree of perfection, mufl have a free and generous mind ; his underflanding mufl: not be fettered by prejudice, his genius not cramped by any dread of man-, nor re- tarded in its arduous flight by traditional authorities. He mufl; give full fcope to his reflections, to his feel- ings, and to his fancy ; mufl go in quefl; of truth, of CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. l^ of beauty and perfe£Hon,on all fides, with unbounded liberty ; their images, their prefence alone Ihould in- fpire him with refped, their laws alone be facred to him. — With the moft important, the mod exalted of all fciences, with the fcience of religion, the cafe is precifely the fame. All violence, conftraint and coercion are averfe to her fpirit. She is the daugh- ter of heaven, and allows of no controul from men. The friend of liberty is her friend. To him (he con- fides her fecrets ; to him fhe appears in her native, her celeflial form. The flave only perceives her in a tawdry difguife, tricked out in a garb of human texture, under which her true figure is concealed. There alone where reflexion on religious matters is not confined by eftablifhed rules, not chained to hu- man confeffions of faith ; there alone where the right of free inquiry is retained by her confeflbrs : there alone can the knowledge of religion be conflantly becoming plainer, more corre£l and complete ; there alone can it be purified from human interpolations, fecured againfl human abufes, and become that uni- verfal difpenfer of light and life it was ordained to be. — And, as religion, as arts and fciences flourifh under the foftering energies of liberty, fo alfo every fpecies of public and private profperity is cherifhed by the fame genial influence. She communicates life and aftivity to all. She ftrengthens the weak, {he quickens the flothful, fhe encourages and requites the adlve and induflrious, facilitates and promotes the effecls of all -public-fpirited undertakings, the 9 3 fuccefs 198 THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, fuccefs of all kinds of manufadures and trade, and ihews us fertile and fmiling fields, and diligent and chearful employment, where before was the gloomy wildernefs and the uninhabited defert. Yet more. Only in the fentiment and enjoyment of liberty, of civil as well as religious liberty, can a man fupport his real dignity as befeems the man and the chriftian. What more diflinguifhes the man from the brute ? What is his boafled pre-emi- nence, if it be not liberty ? That he needs not blindly follow an irrefiftible inflind ; that he is not obliged merely to move by mechanical laws ; that he can confider, refled: and chufe ; that he can re- folve and do that which he accounts the befl accord- ing to his perceptions : is not this the true dignity of man? And how can the flave affert and enjoy it ; the flave who is loaded with ponderous and op- preflive chains, who mufl implicitly follow the will of another, who feels himfelf thwarted in thought and manacled in a£lion, by arbitrary prefcriptions and controul ? — How differently is the dignity of the man and the chriftian fupported by him who knows the happinefs of liberty ! The freer a man is as the member of a community, the ftronger, the greater, the weightier, is tfie confcioufnefs of him- felf. Whatever he thinks and fays and does, as fuch, acquires thereby a certain value. He is no indifferent or ufelefs member of the ftate ; he takes an intereft in all that happens to it ; has an influence, or thinks be has an influence, on it all j feels the profperity 3 of CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. I99 ©f the whole fociety as if it were his own, and the damages it fuftains as a detriment to himfelf ; he works and toils for pofterity as well as for his con- temporaries, and hopes, in his defcendanis, or by his public-fpirited inflitutions and enterprifes, to be the benefactor of his brethren long after his death. And how great mufl he not thus feel himfelf to be ! What a dignity mufl it not give him in all his labours and adions ! — And thus likewife it is with religious liberty. The freer a man is as a worfhiper of God, as a chriflian, fo much the more is he alive to the privilege of being fo, fo much the more worthily will he fupport it. He alone worfliips God in fpirit and in truth, with underflanding and fentiment. He alone is impelled by his real wants to all the duties of religion and worjQiip, to every ad of piety, and every exercife of devotion. He alone completely feels the happinefs and the honour of the relation in which he ftands with the Creator as his creature. To him alone is it the true food and recreation of his fpirit, when he is bufied in filent meditations on religion, when, with a, tranquil mind, with a mind unfettered by prejudice and the dread of man, he can proceed farther and facther in invefligating and applying the mofl important truths, when he can elevate himfelf with joy and reverence to the firfl and mofl perfeft being, and can entirely repofe in Ijis idea of him and' in the fentiment of his love. •< — The more freely mankind in general think and aft, fo much the more intimate and chearful confciouf- 0 4 nefs 20O THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, nefs have they of the faculties and aptitudes of their nature, of their grand deflination, of their affinity with beings of a fuperior order, and with the deity himfelf, of all that they at prefent are and fhall here- after be. And fhould not the liberty that exalts them thus, which unfolds and maintains tliis con- fcioufnefs in them, be of infinite value in their eyes ? Liberty is lallly the trueft, the mofl comfortable enjoyment of life. No flave can be thoroughly fa- tisfied with his life ; too often it is a burden to him ; too often does he voluntarily call it off, as an in- fupporliOole load ; his faculties, his goods, his time, his very life is not his own ; the polTefrion, the ufe, the continuance of them depend upon the caprice of his lord. What he yeflerday earned by the fweat of his brow, is ravifhed from him to-day; and the plans and defigns he is bufied with to-day will be defeated and fruftrated to-morrow. He is and has and does and enjoys only what his owner will have him to be and to have and to do and to enjoy. What great value then can any thing be of to him ! How taftelefs, or rather how bitter to him mufl not the enjoyment of them be ! No, none but the free man can peaceably enjoy and thoroughly relifh their fweets. If he have civil liberty ; then as a man. and a member of the community he has neither violence nor oppreffion to fear, while he is obedient to the laws. What he is and has, that he is and has, not for the flranger, but for himfelf and his. V/hat he has invented, wrought, or earned, is his, of it he reaps CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS, 201 reaps the fruits. He can purfue any lawful employ- ment without moleftation, profecute any innoxious ilefign at pleafiire, and, even when he is working for his defcendants, for futurity, has even then a far greater aiTurance that his labours will not be in vain, that his purpofe will not be defeated. He is neither forced to fwell the treafures of the tyrant, nor to fatiate the rapacity of his fer- vants, nor to confuine his faculties and his life in low and creeping flavery. He can dwell in his hut in fecurity and peace, follow his employment in the calm of obfcurity, enjoy at his eafe the comforts of domeftic and fociai life, and is not tormented with fears of being ar reded unawares by fome arbitraiy order of the government, or of being defpoiled, by the machinations of any fecret and powerful adver- fary, of his goods, of his honour, of his children, or the natural ufe of his freedom. Does he enjoy liberty of religion and confcience ; then the religion he profelTes is aftuaily his own religion, and the confcience he reveres is likewife his own. The con- fiderations and reafons that have led and determined him, are his own confiderations and reafons. His faith is the effeft of his reflexions, the refult of his conviction. He needs not be alarmed at every error, at every doubt, at every novel idea, at every devia- tion from the beaten track, at every unufual eluci- dation fo terrifying to the fervile formalifl. He is neither affrighted at the gfiaftly fpeClre of error, nor the fuperior brightnefs of truths but little known. He has principles to which he adheres, by which he tries 202. . THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, tries all things, which confole him and guide him liifely, even while they leave him undetermined and doubtful. Whatever he loiows of religious matters, he knows thoroughly ; whatever he believes, he believes firmly ; whatever he hopes he hopes with confidence ; whatever he thinks and does in all thefe refpeds, he thinks and does v/ith earneftnefs and joy. And thus does the happy man, who has been nurfed in the lap of liberty, who enjoys his propqr freedom as a man and as a chriHian, pafs his hfe in chearfulnefs and comfort, ufes and enjoys the goods and advantages of it with confidence and courage ; and in that enjoyment has no fear of being dif- turbed by the arbitrary orders of a fpiritual or tem- poral fuperior. And now, my dear brethren, judge for your- felves, whether liberty, whether civil and religious liberty, be not of great value, fmce it is the na- tural flate of man, and the waimefl wifli of his heart ; fmce it fo much promotes the activity and perfe6tion of his mental faculties ; fmce it fecures him fi'om all fervility ; fmce it is fo favourable to virtue ; fmce it is the parent of arts, of fciences, of public and private profperity ; fmce it is the firmed fupport of the dignity of man and of the chriflian, and the moft delicious enjoynient of life. Yes, liberty is an ineflimable blefling ; a polTefTion without wiiich almofl all other? would lofe the greateft part of their worth, and by which they are all of them multiplied and enhanced. But CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. 203 But the knowledge, the convidion of the vakie of liberty, fhould not lie dormant in ouf breads ; it fhould have an influence on our conduft. If ye confefs and feel the value of liberty, my pious hearers, patronize and proteft it wherever it fubfifts ; enjoy your own happinefs, but feek not to deftroy or circumfcribe the freedom of others. He that by any means undermines or diniinifhes liberty ; he that forges fetters for his brethren, or brings them under a yoke, or prevents them from breaking and cafting it off ; is an enemy of mankind, a traitor to the human race, an ignominious flave, who would fain reduce and debafe all men to the fame fervile difpofitions with himfelf. No, the li- berty of our brother fhould be juft as facrcd to us as his property, as his honour, as his life, as his fum of happinefs ; fmce, that once gone, all the others lofe frequently the whole of their value. Of all criminals, the tyrant is the mofl atrocious, the little tyrant as well as the great, the fervant of the prince as well as the prince himfelf; and no crime muft draw after it more humiliation and fhame and torment, in the future world, than this, as none is more manifeftly in dired oppofition to the will of God, to all his views and commands, to thefpirit of true religion and chriftianlty, to the whole of hu- man happinefs, than this. This, however, is not enough. If you confefs ihe value of liberty, then alfo promote and advance it. 204 THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, it. Do fo efpecially, you who fliine in poliflied circles, who fill the higher ftations, you that are in the clafTes of the learned, who are teachers and guides of the people, who as fine writers influence the tafle and the principles of the times, or are dif- tinguifhed above others by fuperior talents, and more generous fentiments. It is an indifpenfablc duty incumbent on you to fupport and advance the caufe of liberty. You are the curators of the nation, the guardians of its conflitution, the interpreters of its laws, the arbiters between the government and the fubjed ; and fad is your cafe if you do not em- ploy the deference and refpeS: and authority you poiTefs, to the ends for which the Father of man- kind, the Judge of the world, has inverted you with them ! Maintain then and proted the unahen- able rights of mankind ; defend and fupport the equally facred rights of confcience. Neither degrade yourfelves by a blind and flavifh obedience, nor by a fuperftitious fubmiflion, to the ordinances and tra- ditions of men. Beware of becoming, either in one refpe£t or the other, the fervants of men. In both refpecls try all things, and cleave to that which, according to the foundeft dictates of your judgment, is the beft. Shew refped to the great and mighty of the earth ; but flatter them not ; flirink not in their prefence, as if they were creatures of a fuperior order. Judge of their a£lions with difcretion ; but judge of them by the felf-famc laws as you pronounce upon CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. 205 upon the aaions of other men ; and neither applaud nor approve of any thing merely becaufe it has been faid or done by a man that is furrounded by parti- cular pomp. Reverence the religion of the realm, and its teachers, and its rites. But decline not to examine the doftrines of that religion, to difcufs the decifions of thofe teachers, and to judge of the pro- priety or impropriety of thofe rites. Allovv- full fcope to the progrefs of human knowledge; difcounte- nance no decent invefligation of received maxims and doarines, be the confequence what it may. Truth can at length be no lofer by it ; and one perfpicuous thought, thoroughly underftood and deeply felt, is of more value, and does more good, than ten others, heard of one man and repeated to another, and underftood of neither from principle and convi(Slion. liaftly, the more liberty ye enjoy, the more let It efFecl that good which it is able and ought to pro- duce. If you may worlhip God after your own principles, then worlhip him with fo much the greater chearfulnefs and ardour ; adore him fo much the more in fpirit and in tmth, with underftanding and fentiment. Are you allowed to think and to judge for yourfelves in religious matters ; then re- fle£t fo much the more on thofe important concerns; let it be fo much the more your moft pleafant em- ployment to explore and to know them ; then en- deavour the more to aflure yourfelf of your faith by reafon. Co6 THE VALUE OF LIBERTY, reafon. Woe to him whom freedom to think, whom~Hberty of rehgion and confcience, renders indifferent to religion and truth, or inattentive to the voice of iponfcience ! Inftead of being free, and of being better and happier by liberty, he only bar- ters to his lofs one flavery for another ; and though he be not opprefled by man, yet is he in bondage to his own lufls and paffions. No, he who would not render himfelf unworthy of the privilege of fee- ing with his own eyes, and of purfuing his obje£t in the way he has chofen for himfelf, fhould ufe his eyes with fo much the more alTiduity, and walk on his way with the greater circumfpeclion. •— Do you enjoy civil liberty ; then obferve the laws of the flate and of the fociety to which you belong, with fo much the readier and ftridler obedience ; for the maintenance and obfervance of the laws is the ground of all freedom. Promote the welfare of that flate, of that fociety, with fo much the more zeal, as it is the more intimately conneded with your own, as you have and may have fo much the more influence on its profperity, as you find and enjoy in it fo much the more protedion and peace, fecurity and happinefs. Think and a6: in all re- fpefts with fo much the more liberality and public fpirit, the farther you are exalted above the flate of flavery. — Strive all of you, in the lafl place, my dear brethren, after that greater, that flill more ef- fential liberty of the wife man and the chriflian, of hini CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS. 207 him who governs hlmfclf, who controuls his defires and paHions, feeks his happinefs, not fo much in externals as in his intrinfic perfedion, forgets not his dignity, fupports it in every condition, uninter- ruptedly follows the precepts of his reafon and his confcience, and wills nothing but what God wills, and does nothing but what is in conformity to the will of God. Yes, this is the liberty which will compenfate the vant of any other, and will be con- ftantly bringing us nearer to the mark of our high %'ocation. SERMON XXXVI. The Value of Learning. f^ GOD, from thse proceed intelligence and ^^ wifdom ; from thee proceed all the knowledge and fciences which lead and condu£l mankind; which blefs and rejoice them in numberlefs ways. From thee, who dwelleft in inacceflible light, and art thyfelf pure light, pure truth and perfedion, from thee flow light and truth and happinefs on us and on all intelligent beings ! Thou haft planted in us all an ever a£live curiofity, a burning thirft after the knowledge of truth ; given us all capacities and powers for feeking and inveftigating it ; opened to us all various fources for afTuaging our thirft, Aad how many benefits, how many recreations, hov many fatisfadions, how many blefllngs, have no thy children of mankind, already drawn from thet fources j and how much bleffing and delight do THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 2O9 do they not daily and hourly draw from them ! Thanks and praife be to thee, the father of all beings, of all fpirits, for having made us rational, intelligent creatures, capable of knowledge and wif- dom, and ajEForded us fo many incentives and means for conftantly more unfolding thefe our noblefl ca- pacities, and for proceeding ever farther in know- ledge and wifdom i Still indeed, in various refpcds, vailed and opprefled by night and darknefs ; flill often deceived by fenfuahty and error ; flill only lifping children, ftill only feeble beginners in the fcho£)l of wifdom ; yet capable of an incelTant pro- grefs, of an ever advancing perfeftion ! And what does not this allow us to hope ! What profpeds ^oes it not open to us in all future times and eter- hities ! Yes, the truth that comes from thee and leads to thee, fliould be ever dearer to us, its in- veftigation and its knowledge be ever more import- ant ; and nothing fliould render us difpirited and flothful in our purfuits after higher attainments in Ivifdom and perfection ! And the more perfect here our knowledge is, the iefs we here can quench our thirft for truth and our longing after thee, its eter- nal fourc€ : fo much the more fhould we rejoice in the hope of immortality to which thou hafl raifed us through Jefus Chrifl ; fo much the more zealouf- ly ought we to flrive, by the befl, the mofl faith- ful ufe of the light thou haft now caufed to fhine upon us, to render ourfelves capable and worthy of a far greater and brighter light in the future VOL. II. p world. 210 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. world. Teach us thyfelf, o gracious God, ever to value more juftly the worth of the advantages thou haft at prefent in this refpeft vouchfafed to us, ever to prize them higher, and ever to apply them more to the greateft poffible promotion of human happi- nefs, Blefs to this end the confiderations we pur- pofe now to begin upon this fubjecl, and let our prayer be well-pleafing in thy fight, through Jefus Chrift our Lord, in whofe blefled name and words we fum up all our petitions, faying : Our father, 8ic*^ 1 KINGS, X. 8. Happy are thy men, happy are thefe thy fervants, which ftand continually before thee, and that hear thy wifdom. T EARNING, like the other prerogatives and -*— ' advantages of mankind, is feldom judged of vnth ftri6b propriety, is feldom taken for what it adtually is. It has its panegyrifts, who exaggerate its value, as well as its ignorant or haughty defpifers, ivho refufe it the importance it deferves. Confider- ed in its univerfal extent, to fpeak impartially, i; has occafioned as much harm as good j has fo fre- quently appeared under the moft venerable afpefl:, and fo frequently in the moft ridiculous figure; and THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 211 and is compounded, in fa£l, of fuch a curious mix- ture of important and unimportant matters ; that, as well in regard to the various fides it has, and the various efFe£ls it produces, as in refpeft to the va- rious perfons that profefs it, it mufl neceflarily un- dergo various and oppofite fentences, one while de- ferving applaufe and admiration, and at another re- proach and contempt. — Taken at large, it feems to have been more highly prized, and more honour- ed, in the early ages of antiquity, than in modern times. Probably becaufe it was lefs common ; pro- bably becaufe the neceflity and utility of it were in many refpefts more readily felt, and the helps it af- forded were more indifpenfable ; or, perhaps, be- caufe it wore a more venerable or more myflerious countenance, and was attributed to a fublimer ori- gin. Accordingly, the queen that we read of in our text, as coming from the wealthy Arabia to converfe with Solomon, had a very high opinion of its value. She left her throne and her people, to hear and to improve by the wifdom, or, which in the language of thofe times is jufl the fame, the learning of that monarch. Report having brought the fame of it into thofe diftant regions, it at once excited her appetite for novelty and inflru^lion ; and now, on finding the truth of the r\atter to ex- ceed even what report had made it, fhe exclaims in admiration, " Happy are thy men, happy are thefe thy fervants, which ftand continually before thee, and that hear thy wifdom I" Thus fhewing that p 3 fhe 212 THE VALUE OF LEAANINO. fhe preferred the erudition of Solomon before all his treafures, before all the fplendour and magnifiGence of his court. And this judgment does her the more honour, as it is fo very feldom that the great and mighty of the earth are impartial enough to do juf- tice to eminent endowments of the mind, and to efleem them more than their own dazzling dif- tindions. Let us, then, my pious hearers, endeavour alfo to fettle our judgment on this matter. Many of my audience are learned themfelves, or make hterature their principal employment ; and moft of the reft have much connexion and ihtercourfe with that defcription of men. For both the one and the other it is highly important to acquire a due eftimation of iearning ; and though I may polfefs but a fmall ihare of it myfelf, yet its properties, nature and quality, and its influence on human happinefs, can- not be utterly unknown to me ; and it is more than poflible that I may be able to pronounce the more impartially upon it, by renouncing, on that fcore, all pretenfions to fame. Let us, therefore, invefti- gate the value of learning ; and to this end, firfl, make fome remarks for properly flating its worth ; then fet that value in its proper light ; and, laftly, thence draw fome rnles for our conduct towards it. By erudition or learning, I here underftand the whole circle of human fciences and knowledge, that do not immediately relate to the fatisfying the firfl ■wants of nature j all knowledge and fciences- that are THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 213 are generally more neceffary and peculiar to a cer- tain clals or body of men, than to mankind at large j whether othervvife they be diflinguiflied for diverfity and extent, or for foiidity and method, be they of the hiftorical or philofophicai fpecies, and of more or lefs general utility. Every one that addicts himfelf to any one clals or kind of fuch knowledge and fcience, devotes the greater part of his time and faculties to it, and thus diftinguifhes himfelf above others, bears and deferves the name of a man of learning. And, for rightly appreciating the value of this learning, we mud previoufiy make feveral remarks. The firfh and mofl important is this : the value that learning has is no otherwife, for the greateft part, due to it, than as being a means to higher aims, and not as an ultimate object itfelf ; and this it has in common with the generality of the other privileges and advantages that relate to human happinefs. Particular kinds of knowledge, certain branches of learning, have, indeed, in themfelves, a value, an intrinfic and lading value ; but thefe are few in number. Under this head we may, perhaps, reckon moft of our mathematical and aftronomical knowledge, feveral of the deeper philofophicai ftudies, a part of our religious notions ; whatever is eternal, unalterable, and everlaftingly ufeful truth ; all propofitions and ideas that are of account in heaven as well as upon earth, among fuperior beings as well as among mankind ; and though we may p •' not 214 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. not poflefs a great many fuch proportions and ideas, yet are we not totally deftitute of them, and they indifputably compofe the moft precious part of our knowledge. All that falls under this denomination befides has no value whatever, as an end, but only as means. It is only fo far defirable, and is only fo far deferving of our efteem, of our attention and our application, as it exercifes the faculties of our min^, procures ourfelves and others innocent and elevated pleafures, guides us in the track of truth and facili- tates the loiowledge of it, diffufes activity among mankind, improves their outward welfare, provides for their accommodation, promotes their fecurity, and helps them in the profecution of their bufmefs, or procures them any other adventitious benefit. Hereto belong the generality of hiftorical^ moil of the mechanical and philological fciences, and the greatefl part of the learning of the theologian, the phyfician, and the lawyer. They are only means, no more than implements, by which we may for- ward and attain certain good purpofes in our prefent ftate ; and which, when thefe ends are once ob- tained, lofe abfolutely all their value, and become ufelefs, like old fcaffoldings. That man, however, would think foolifhly, who fliould fuppofe we might defpife and rejed them, while they are neceffary to the profecution of the building we are canning on, before the ftrufture be completely finifhed. Hence fpontaneoufly arifes a fecond rule, of fer* vice to us in forming a right judgment of learning, and THE VALUE OP LEARNING. 215 and the feveral branches of it. It is this: the greater fervice and general utility it is of, the greater is Hke- wife its value. Studies, abfolutely unprofitable, when confidered at leaft as means to farther views, are, indeed, no part at all of learning ; many parts of it, however, are unworthy of the painful and in- defatigable induftry, the great application of time and abilities that are bellowed upon them. Many debafe and weaken the mind of a man, inftead of elevating and flrengthening it ; and benumb and contrad; his heart, inftead of enlarging it, and quickening it to great and generous fentiments. Many lead off fuch as employ themfelves in them from the defign of their creation, from their proper perfeftion, rather than facilitate them in the pro- fecution of it. Such learned attainments and occu- pations are, indeed, of but trifling value ; often of much lefs value than the attainments and occupa- tions of the artificer or the labourer ; and he that mak^s them his principal employment has no right to complain, if he be neither more refpecled, nor more happy, than fo many others of the unlearned, who trifle away their time like him, and diflipate their powers. No, he alone deferves to be fo, and that in a high degree, whofe learning is, in any ob- fervable way, beneficial and generally ufeful ; who can give an account to himfelf, and to others, of what he has done and performed for the advantage of his fellow-creatures ; who effedually has kindled more light, and called forth more a(5tivity, in him- p 4 felf 2l6 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. felf and about him ; who has learnt to think and to live better himfelf ; and has hkewife, mediately or immediately, been tke occafion that others think more juflly, and live more prudently or happily. A third circumftance, which falls under confider- ation in our refearches into the real value of learn- ing, efpecially in regard to particular perfons, is this : the more modefly and true wifdom it has to accompany and guide it, fo much the greater ic its value. If learning allow room lo pride, it foon de- generates into arrogance and tyranny ; not unfre- quentiy prevents its poffeflbr from maldng greater progrefs in knowledge and fcience ; often renders it unferviceable to others, or of but httle uie ; and how very much muft this detraft from its worth ! Still lefs value has the learning which has no morally good influence on the mind and temper of the learned man ; which allows him to think as meanly, and to a6l as perverfely and foolifhly, and as flaviflily to follow the calls of his lulls and paflions, as the ignorant and the unlearned ; and in proportion as it procures but little real and durable advantage to himfelf, fo much mufl this defed: diminifh its utility in regard of others, and weaken its influence on human happinefs. No, then alone does learning difplay herfelf in her native dignity, in her full fplendor, and fuffer none to doubt of her high value, when fhe appears in the company of modefly and wifdom ; when fhe is not blind to her own in- firmities and failings, and is not afhamed of her limitations; THE VALUE OF LEAR>nNG. 217 limitations ; when flie readily communicates herfelf to others ; when Ihe rather informs in the fpirit of meeknefs, than decides in a haughty imperious tone; when flie exerts herfelf in generous fentinients, in a beneficent aad adive zeal in the caufe of truth, of virtue, of liberty, of human happinefs, and by an eminently wife, manly, virtuous behaviour, worthy of the enlightened man. This once premifed, let us more clofely examine wherein the real value of learning confifts, and on what grounds it merits our refpeft. Erudition is, firft, mental perfeftion, and pro- motes mental perfection ; and, if this be a real and covetable privilege of mankind, then muft erudition be fo too. The man of learning, who deferves that name, knows more of truth, fees farther into the principles and connections of truths, goes more furely to work in the inveftigation of them, and is therefore lefs liable to be impofed upon by appear- ance. His acuter fight takes in more objects, his trained eye explores much farther ; he thinks more perfpicuoufly, m^ore profoundly, more juftly, than the generality of mankind can do ; and who but muft confefs this to be a perfection, a prerogative ? Allow that he fometimes mifles of his mark ; allow that he is liable to falfe conclufions and errors ; let the whole amount of the highly ufeful truths he has made out, clearly explained, or firft difcovered, be, comparatively, never fo fmall ; yet he has been all that time exercifing his mental powers, learning to 21 8 THE VALUE OF LEARNING, to ule them better, to ufe them with greater dexte- rity, and has thereby been advancing their eflential and lafting perfedlion. — A thoufand things, it muft: be readily confeiTed, a thoufand things that relate to grammar, to the hiflory of nations, of nature and arts, and to other fciences, the knowledge of which comes under the article of learning, are in and of themfelves not at all deferving of any pains in the fludy and Invefligation of them ; but, not to men- tion the clofe connexion wherein they frequently ftand with other more important matters, they can- not be inveftigated and known, cannot be refleded on, methodized, combined, and applied, without employing our underftanding, our acutenefs, our wit and our memory, without exercifmg our mental faculties and flrengthening them by that exercife ; and this, undoubtedly, gives a great value and uti» iity to every kind of knowledge which we acquire, not barely in a mechanical and thoughtlefs way, but by confideratlon and refle£lion; it muft give it a value and utility which will ftill abide by us, even when that very knowledge has vanifhed from our remem- brance, and palTed into complete oblivion. Thus, we all learn, in our younger yeai^s, numberlefs things which we can turn to no account whatever when we are advanced in life, and yet the learning whereof has been of great confequence to us, as we at the fame time learned to think, to draw inferences, to determine, to revolve many fubje^ls, to compre- hend many, and conne<5t many together. — Never negled THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 219 negle£l then, oh Ingenuous youth, to learn any- thing that exercifes thee In thought, if thou have time and faculties and opportunity for it, though thou perceive not the utility it may be of to thee, and though probably thou may not ufe it. The real, the greatefl utility it can be of to thee is, that, at all events, thou wilt be the more rational and the wifer for it. — Therefore, let no man peremptorily defpife him who is apparently purfuing with too much ear- neftnefs, and too much induftry, matters that, in and of themfelves, are utterly infignificant, and pro- mife no pleafure or advantage to any. All depends on the way and manner in which he employs himfelf about them. If he do it with intelligence and re- fledlon, he may thereby learn to think as confecu- tively and juflly as another, who bufies himfelf on the mofl elevated objects. In this refpedl, even an inferior art, an ordinary trade, may be as profitable to the man that duely exercifes and carries it on as learning itfelf. Both the one and the other are, in more than one confideration, nothing elfe but the fcaffold, whofe value muft be adjufted by the edifice to the building whereof it ferves. Learning acquires, fecondly, a great value from the noble and never-ceafmg pleafure the invefliga- tion and the knowledge of truth brings with it. So great as the pleafure of the traveller is, who leaves a perplexed and tortuous way, overgi-own with thorns and briars, through a difmal and mazy foreft, for an even and lumiiwus path, or after the darknefs of the 220 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. the night perceives the firft rays of the fun ; fo great, and far greater ftill, is the pleafure of the thinldng man, on perceiving light and order and confiflency in his reflexions, and that he can there- by proceed nearer to the knowledge of truth. And this pleafure the man of learning enjoys, not indeed abfolutely, but in an eminent degree. Every appli- cation of his mental faculties that is not totally fruit- lefs, every enlargement of his horizon, every aug- mentation of his knowledge and perceptions, every adjuftment of his ideas and conceptions, every addi- tional view he gets into the immenfe regions of truth, and every ray of light thence falling on his eyes, procures him this pleafure. And how diverfified, how inexhauftible it is ! Each ftone, each mineral, each plant, each animal, each man, each part of man, the v/hole material and fpiritual world, the vifible and the invifible, the paft, the prefent and the future, the poflible and the adual, the creature and the Creator; all charm, all employ the curiofity, the fpirit of obfervation and inquiry of the thought- ful fcholar ; all guide him forward on the track of truth ; all point out to him more or lefs of it ; all fhew him arrangement and harmony in the whole and in the parts ; all lead him to the prime, eternal fource of being, of hfe, of power, of perfedion ; and by thefe very means procure him fatisfadion, the pureft, the noblefl pleafure, A pleafure that often rifes to extafy, when he has overcome any material impediment that retarded him in his reflect tionS;^ THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 221 tions, has obviated fome difficulty that bewildered him, folved fome knotty point on which he had ex- ercifed his perfpicacity in vain ; when he is enabled to fill up any confiderable chafm in his knowledge, to fee through a feries of ideas with greater clear- nefs, to comprehend more fully fome part of human fcience, to find fome important and fertile argument or expofition, to make any (Iriking application, any profitable ufe of his knowledge, or to detect a trace of the truths that enfure him a remarkable progrefs in tilling the field he has chofen to cultivate. How often, and how amply, mufl thefe pleafures requite the naturalift, the aftronomer, the geometrician, the philofopher, the chemift, and every other inquifitive mind, for all its exertions and toils in the fearch after truth ! And how little has fuch an one to fear, left the fources of thefe pleafures fliould ever fail, or the enjoyment of them be turned into dif- guft ! No, here ai'e fountains of pleafure that never fail, which flow through all times and all eternities, and become the more bounteous, the more pellucid and pleafant, the bftener and more copioufly we draw from them. And muft not learning, which procures us pleafures of this kind, be of great value? Learning, thirdly, poflelfes a great value, as a means whereby the general welfare of the vi'hole community is promoted. How greatly have naviga- tion and commerce been benefited by aftronomical obfervations ! How much have chemical refearches contributed to the improvement and perfedion of manu- 222 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. manufactures ! How much are architedure, tadics, and every fpecies of mechanical knowledge, indebted to mathematics ! What implement is there of the artill, of the artizan, or of the hufbandman, that is not more or lefs improved and perfected by them ? How many productions of nature are underftood, wrought up, and rendered ufeful to many important purpofes, by the induftry of the naturalift ! What beneficial inftitutes in common and civil life, what conveniences in regard of lodging and furniture, of order and fafety, of trade and barter, are we not in- debted for to learning, and particularly to geometry and the fciences related to it ! How much is due to the fludy of law for peace and quiet, and to medi- cine for life and health, however great the inconve- niences of the one may be, and the imperfedlions of the other ! How much agreeable and ufeful know- ledge, how many means of refined focial pleafure, and noble entertainment, have not been diffufed from all thefe fources among all clafles and condi- tions of men ! Compare the condition of a country where ignorance and fuperftition prevail, with the ftate of another where learning and fciences flourifli : how much more barbarifm and ferocity, how much more imperfection and confufion, will ye not find in one than in the other ! How many channels of in- duftry, of art, of pleafure, of domeftic and focial happinefs are not clofed to the former, which run and difperfe themfelves throughout our happy coun- try, bringing life and activity, profit and fatisfaClion, into THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 22^ into all our borders ! And how much more profit and pleafure of thefe various kinds may not the whole fociety promife itfelf in future from learning, fmce all men are at prefent far more difpofed to render it more generally ufeful and more ferviceable, to all ranks and defcriptions of perfons than ever they were before. Sound learning has, fourthly, a great value, as a means of fecurity againfl all Idnds of fuperftition and fanaticifm. It cherilhes and extends the light of truth, which that brood of darknefs cannot endure, and which often fcares it back into the obfcurlty from whence it fprung. It promotes clear thought, nice inveftigation, fagacious doubt, modeft and dif^ paffionate inquiiy into the caufes, the defigns, the connexion of things. It arms us againfl the decep- tions of the fenfes, of the imagination, of the feelings; againfl the fallacious charms of the extraordinaiy, the wonderful, the myfterious ; againfl the impofmg vizor of a peculiar penfivenefs and hidden wifdom, under which ignorance and fanaticifm fo often lurk. Wherever real learning and folid fcience lofe their refpecl and influence, fuperftition is fure to rife upon their ruins, with all its lamentable and difaflrous at- tendants, ignorance, daftardly fear, intolerance, the fpirit of domination, perfecution, fpreading terror and thraldom and mifery of various kinds throughout a land. Curiofity never totally forfakes the human mind. If a man cannot employ it in regular and rational meditation, he endeavours to fatisfy it by con- 3 ceits 224 TKfe VALUE OF LEARNING. ceits and reveries. The invifible, the world of fpirlts , the future, are always momentous to him. If, in his flights into that world unknown, he has not for his guide an enlightened and trained reafon, but trufts only to obfcure fenfations, he is then liable to follow every bye-way, every devious track that offers ; he runs the hazard of becoming the fport of every artful deceiver, or every dupe of impoflure. But who can think on all the hurtful and ruinous effeds of fuperftition and fanaticifm, and not af- cribe great praife to erudition, which is always counterading them, and fetting bounds to iheir dominion ? Yet more. Confidered as a flay of religion, learn- ing which is not unworthy of that appellation, is of very great value ; and this fhould render it eminently dear to us, who profefs and revere religion. The credibility and the divine authority of the chriflian doftrine reft at leafl in part on hiflorical arguments ; and thefe can neither be defended nor known, nor duly weighed, without ^he help of learning. The underflandjng of the facred books, which we revere as the fources of this do6lrine, prefuppofes a know- ledge of languages, of antiquity, and of many other kinds within the province of learning. If we wifh to fee thefe do6trines defended againfl the objections of the infidel and the fcorner ; if we would fee their reafonablenefs evinced, fee them purified from all human commixtures ; more unfolded and reduced to a conneded and coafiftent. whole j delivered in a manner THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 22^ manner fuitable to the wants of mankind and the exigencies of the times ; and if we would have them likewife worthy of all acceptation to the deep-think- ing man and the mind addided to doubt ; would we hope to fee them in fecurity from all abufe : our hopes and defires would be vain, without the means of various forts of learned knowledge ; they can never be accomphfhed without the alfiftance of philofophi* cal perfpicacity, without an enlightened and habitu- ated reafon. Were it not for learning and folid fcience, religion would fpeedily degenerate into fu- perflition and fanaticifm. Whereas, the more flourifhing and the more general they become, in a country or among a people : fo much the greater light is diifufed over religion ; fo much the more is it cherifhed in its native fimplicity and its majeftic dignity ; and fo much the more general muft its in- fluence be on human perfection and happinefs. Is religion founded on truth, and does it comprehend all truth ? Then every thing muft of neceffity be favourable and helpful to it, by which the fcrutiny and the knowledge of truth is generally advanced. And what a value muft accrue from hence to eru- dition, in the fight of every man to whom religion and truth are not indifferent objeds I Laftly, learning, when it is and effects what it may and ought to be and effect, is an excellent prepara- tive to the employment and pleafures of a higher condition after death. Much, perhaps even the greateft part, of our knowledge, and the fciences as VOL. II. f^ they 226 THE VALUE OF LEARNING* they are termed, will fall away as totally ufelefs in the future life, as the toys and playthings of our childiih years ; yet mufl much of the reft ftili remain, fuch as are of a nobler kind, of eternal, unchangeable truth, of univerfal utility; and afford them, who take them with them into that better world, a greater or . lefs advantageous out-fet, beyond thofe who are def- titute of them. Though, for inftance, what the af- tronomer knows concerning the heavenly bodies and their relations towards each other, be ever fo little in comparifon with what in the immenfe fyftem of the univerfe is concealed from him, yet at leaft he underftands fome few letters in the alphabet of the 'fkies, and feems in thofe fuperior regions fomewhat lefs a ftranger than the abfolutely ignorant. But, if this be no more than a mere flight of fancy, yet, in all cafes, the fcholar, who in fa 61 fupports that name, is always exercifmg his mental faculties in a far fuperior degree ; learns to furvey, to comprehend, to combine more things together ; raifes himfelf in meditation farther above M'hat is fenfible and vifible 5 habituates himfelf to more intelleftual employments and nobler pleafures ; acquires a greater love for truth than for all things elfe ; finds in the refearch and knowledge of it the pureft delight ; feels more fenfibly the vanity and emptinefs of all earthly things j feels himfelf more forcibly attracted towards the things that are invifible, towards fuch as are infinite and eternal, towards God, the original fource of all light and all truth, and proceeds on his way to his fupei'ior THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 21^ fuperlor flate with brighter profpeds, with greater expectations. And muft not this be a very fuitable preparative to it ? If fuch be then the cafe, my pious hearers ; if learning be an excellent l)abit and perfection of the human mind ; if it procure a man real pleafure, and the nobieft and purefl kinds of pleafure ; if it pro- mote, by various ways, the general welfare of fociety ; if it be an efficacious prefervalive from fuperflition and fanaticifm ; if it be a fupport to true religion, and a means of advancing it in the world ; if it be adapted to fit us, in more than one refpeCl:, for our future fupv^rior Hate ; then is it inconteftable that it is of real and hirh value, that it may contribute and actually does contribute greatly to human happi- nefs. And, now, how ought we to behave in regard to it ? The learned, as well as the unlearned, have feyeral duties incumbent on them in this refpedt. In conclufion, ^llow me to addrefs a few words to the confiderat'on of them both. You, therefore, my dear friends, who devote your- felves to learning, or employ yourfelves in it, take it for neither more nor lefs than it really is. Prize and pronounce upon it, in the whole, as in its particular parts, according to their proper worth ; nit it accord- ing to its true deftination. Acknowledge that the generality of it, though ferviceable, and in many re- fpeCts ufeful and necefTary, yet is not near fo import- ant as prejudice and felf-iove would probably induce 0^2 you 228 tHE VALUE OF LEARNING. you to believe. Know and feel and confefs the int"- perfe6lIon, the uncertainty of all human knowledge and fcience. Frequently balance what you know, againft what you do not and cannot know ; what you know with affurance, againft what is only hypo- thetical and flightly probable ; what you can adually make ufe of, againft what is barely inftrumental and matter of exercife, or even deception and error ; what you may hope to carry with you into eternity, , againft what will be buried with you, and be loft in the night of oblivion : and let all this teach you mo- defty and meeknefs. Let the found intellect, the uncorrupted feelings of the heart, the wifdom that is grounded on experience, and ftiews itfelf in an ac- tive and bufy life, have ample juftice. Reverence and purfue learning only fo far as it makes you bet- ter, more intelligent, more wife, and more ufeful; and prefer the important to the lefs important, the fer* viceable to the lefs ferviceable, as often and as much as your circumftances and the duties of your vocation will allow. Be not jealous of your acquirements, nor parfimonious of your information ; rather ftudy to incorporate all you know that is good and ufeful, every truth that is of fervice to mankind, by all the ways and means in your power, into the common ftock of human knowledge. Let that greater light, which gladdens you, enlighten others alfo ; and hide it not, out of flothfulnefs or timidity, or felf-interefted motives, from the eyes of the world. Herein, how- ever, take heed that you do not fliake the founda- tions THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 229 tions of morality, or weaken the bands of religion. This, as the friend of mankind, you would not venture to do, even though you were perfuaded that the former were falfe and the latter chimerical ; at leaft, not till you could furnifh your brethren with more flable fupports to their faith and repofe. No, whatever promotes human perfection and happinefs fhould be facred to you ; and true religion, which certainly promotes it mod, lliould be moft facred. — Content not yourfelf fmiply with being learned, but endeavour to be fo in a refpeftable and amiable manner. Beware of the ordinary failings attendant on learning ; of unfociablenefs, of mifanthropy, of defpifmg and depreciating whatever lies not within your fphere, or relates not to your purfuits. Be not haughty nor domineering ; bear with the weak, the ignorant, the erroneous, in the fpirit of love ; put them not to fhame, but convey to them initrudion ; decide not on all things, and never decide without rcafon 5 lower yourfelf to each man's capacity ; hearken to their modefl contradidions with calm- nefs ; and learn, even from the unlearned, as readily as you teach others. Refped the perceptions, the advantages, the ufeful occupations of other perfons, though they fhould even feem ftrange to you. Do honour, in fine, to learning, by the falutary influence you allow it to have on your character and condu<5l; diftinguifh yourfelf even more by generous fentiments and employments of general utility, than by difl:ufive 0^3 fcience 5 230 THE VALUE OF LEARNING. fcience; and ever prefer doing to underftanding, that is, virtue to knowledge. And you, my friends, who belong not to the clafs of the learned, defpife not that with which you are unacquainted, or of which you have only a glimmer- ing and faint conception. Rather efteem and prize that of which you are able to difcern a little by a few ref]e£lions, fufficient however to fliew you that it is of great aiid various fervice to you and to the whole community. Contemn not the thing ilfelf, becaufe of its accidental abufes. Attribute not the faults and jmperfedicns of the learned to learning itfelf. Re- quire not ci perfons, who, in general, lead and are forced to lead a fohtary life, and who ieldom have a inind totally free, the vivacity, nor the polifhed breed- ing, nor the rigreeable manners, nor the inte"eft in all ihat pafics, which you may expert from perfons who live in the great world, and are prefent in all public diverfions and pleafures. Refpeft the body of the learned, though perhaps all that belong to it are not refpeclable. Countenance and promote learning of every kind, by the eflcem you fiiew to the learned, by the helps you afford them, by the afliflance wherewith you facilitate their frequently cxpenfive undertakings and purfuits, by the' honour and rewards you befuow on their induftry, and for the -fervice they render the public. But profit, like- wife, by the greater light which learning difFufes around you. Avail yourfelves of it for rectifying and extending: THE VALUE OF LEARNING. 23I extending your knowledge, as far as is confident with your calling and your other duties. But ftrive not after iuch leuninig, as in your ilation cannot be acquired witiiout neglcding your moil important oc- cupations and aflairs, and which, in the degree you would probably wifli to polfefs it, would more con- fufe than fettle you, would be of more prejudice than benefit to you. Nei.ther pretend to an acquaint- ance with fuch kinds of knowledge and Icience as are either totally unknown to you, or of which you fcarcely know more than the name ; at moil, have only fome general notions. In many cafes, it is iar better to be ignorant, and not to be afliamed of one's ignorance, than to put up with fuperficial knowledge, and then to be as proud of it as if it. were real learning. Laflly, let all, both learned and unlearned, fo think and fo live as men fedulous to promote the benefit of one and the fame family ; as members of one body, whereof one is the eye, another the ear, a third the hand, and a fourth the foot, and who are all equally neceffary to the fupport and well-being of the whole body, whereof none can difpenfe with any of the others. So fhall we all fulfil our duty, all worthily maintain our Ilation, and reach the fu- perior defign of our exiflence ; all learn to love and efleem each other more and more, and each by peans of the other become conilantly more happy. CL4 SERMON XXXVII. The Value of more enlightened Time^. /^ GOD, the father of lights, from whom every ^^ good and every perfed gift proceeds, we like- wife, furrounded by thy light, are cheared by the light of truth as well as by the light of the fun : and how much brighter fhines not the former among us, than among fo many other people and nations, who fcarcely difcern a few faint emanations of it. Yes, thou haft imparted to us, as men and as chriftians, many eminent means of inftrudlion, of knowledge, of ever increafmg improvement and intellectual perfection! Thou haft tranfplanted us from the kingdom of darknefs into the realms of light. And how much happier are we not thus become, and how much happier may we not be | How greatly has thy kindnefs thus facilitated to us the path of Jife, alleviated the accomplifliment of our duties, the THE VALUE OF, 8cC. 233 llie attainment of our deftination ! From what tor- menting folicitudes, from what oppreffive burdens^ from what fervlle fear, from what terrors has it not freed us ! By having brought u? to the hght, thou hail called us to liberty, to ferenity of mind, to purer virtue, to higher happinefs. If this light be yet not fo generally diffufed among us, not fo un- clouded, not fo flrong as entirely to difpel the dark- nefs, ftill the dawn allows us to hope for the bright rays of the morning, and then for the meridian fun. Yes, thanks be to thee, o Father of light, for the chearful rifmg and the gradual progrefs of it. Oh caufe it to fhine ever brighter, to fpread ever farther; and grant us by its influence to become ever wifer and better ! Grant that none of us may ever fhut their eyes againfl it ; none of us hinder its activity and progrefs ; none of us abufe it to fm, none of us walk in darknefs ! But let each of us zealoufly flrive to advance ever farther in the knowledge of the truth, and by the truth to become ever more free, ever more virtuous, and ever more accomplifh- ed ! Let each of us in his place, and according to his ftation, prove a burning and a fhining light en- lightening far around him, and promoting the greater intelleftual improvement of his brethren as far as he is able ! AfTift us powerfully to this end, mod gracious Father. Teach us to underftand our privilege, and ever more faithfully to ufe it. Grant that we may all walk before thee as childrert of light, and thus affert the dignity to which thou haft raifed 234 THE VALUE OF niifed us as men and as chriftians. Blefs tlie reflect tions we are now about to make on thefe important objecls. Let them awaken in us the- fentiments of gratitude and joy for them ; let them excite in us a defire and zeal in the unwearied endeavours after our proper perfeclion. Thefe our fuppHcations we offer up unto thee in the name of Jefus ChriH, our lord; and, ftedfaflly relying on his promifes, ad- drefs thee farther as he prefcribed us : Our father. EPHES. V. 8. Now are you light in tlie Lord : walk as children of light. HE times wherein we live are frequently called enlightened times ; and, in fatt, they are not abfolutely undeferving of that epithet. Lefs igno- rance in general prevails at prefent, lefs fuperftition and blind credulity, than in the days of our fore- fathers. At prefent, undoubtedly, far more per- fons refledl upon moral and religious fubjefts than perhaps ever did before. There are now a hundred perfons who employ themfelves in reading, and in acquiring fome notions and fcience, for one that did fo, I will not fay in the days of yore, but even at the MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 235 the commencement of the prefent, and in the courfe of the hifl century. Many kinds of knowledge are now difleminated amongft all clalTes and conditions of men, which were heretofore confined to the learn- ed. In our times a man is alhamed of many errors, pany prejudices, many fuperflitions, childilh opi- nions and ufages, which formerly were held facred by princes as well as their fubjeds, by nobles as well as the vulgar. At prefent the purfuit of truth, and the free invefligation of it, are more general than for- merly. Accordingly there actually is more intellec- tual light, there is a greater proportion of knowledge, there are more means and incentives to it among mankind, though neither the one nor the other be near fo great and fo general as numbers pretend. <— But does this greater intellectual light give our times a real precedence above the foregoing ? Are they aftually more valuable on that account ? On this head the judgments are extremely various, according to the point of view from which the matter is teheld. • Indeed this accelTion of light, particularly at firll, and before it bs come to a certain degree of perfec- tion, is attended v/ith many evils of various magni- tudes. It excites doubt j it makes the faith of many ■weak perfons to totter ; it puffs up the proud ; it often begets fcoffers ; it occafions at times fad con- fufions and diflurbances ; it is often mifufed by the wicked, for excufmg and palliating their vices and follies J in fome refpeds it promotes or favours a dif- pofition 23^ ^HE VALUE OF pofitioii to luxury and oftentatlon, too gi'eat a pro- penfity to diffipation and public diverfions ; it pro- bably weakens and enervates many, by refining their taile, and employing their mind to the detriment of their body ; it milleads numbers to meddle witii things quite out of their fphere, with which they have no concern whatever, and thereby to negle£b more important affairs ; it frequently renders certain fer- viceable and ufeful inftitutions, methods, cuftcms, and writings lefs effective, as people are enabled to fpy out their defeats and faults, but are not yet able to fupply their places with better. All this is unde^ niable. And yet the greater proficiency of a nation m knowledge remains, notwithflanding, a real and defirable advantage ; it is always far preferable to its oppofite. The evils of the former are not general ; they are at leaff only tranfient, and will be far over- balanced by the good which is the natural confe^ qiuence of that proficiency. And this, my pious hearers, is the matter that I intend now to diicufs. We are doubtlefs a people greatly enlightened, and we begin to enjoy the advantages of our proficiency. As the apoftie in our text fays to the chriflians : — *- Now are you light in the Lord : walk as children of light :" as chriflians ye are brought to the know-^ kdge of truth, think and live as perfons who know the truth ; fo may we alfo addrefs you : as men and as ehriftiarvs, you are. in poffelTion of more means of inflruftion and improvement than many other, per- haps than the generality of perfons and nations j you ar^ MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 237 ure already, then, capable of being farther enlight- ened than they ; it, therefore, behoves you. to con- dutl yourfelves conformably to thefe privileges. In order to incite you to this, I will reprefent to you the value of the greater intellectual improvement of a people or community ; and then draw from it a few rules for your condud. The gradual improvement of mankind is a natural effe(El of the difpofitions and arrangements which God has eftablifhed in the world, and the courfe he has prefcribed to the human mind. As, in nature, the dawn fucceeds the night, which likewife gives place to the fliining day, and every creature feels itfelf produced anew to life, incited to the frefli ex- ertion of its powers, and proceeding nearer to the defign of its exiflence : fo likewife the knowledge and perceptions of mankind are ever increafmg in extent and perfpicuity, and their minds are conilantly driving after greater adivity, after higher perfeclion, whenever the progrefs of the former and the en- deavours of the latter are not forcibly impeded and limited. This general proficiency in knowledge is therefore perfecilly in the order of providence, as a part of the plan laid down by God, in his govern- ment of the world. It muft, therefore, be good ; it mufl have a real and great value, even though we fliould not allow it. In this manner are we taught by religion to judge of it, and our reflexions con- vince us that this judgment is true. For, what vari- ous and confiderable advantages accrue from a more copious 238 THE VALU£ OF copious accefllon of light to mankind, to the natloii that has it to rejoice in ! Firft, wherever it exids, it begets a far greater and more complete exertion and application of the facul- ties of the human mind. This no man will deny. But is not this ufe, this exercife, this improvement of our nobleft faculties, highly defirable ; and muft: it not be highly defirable in regard of all mankind ? Is not the deftination of all mankind, in eifentials, the fame ? Are they not, in this ilage of their ex- igence, to rife from fenfual to rational creatures ? Are they not all to think, juftly and truly to think, and to ftudy to raife themfelves more and more above the vifible and the prefent ? Arc they not all capable of a continual progrefs ? Have they not all the fame natural difpofitions, capacities and powers ? Can that which brings thefe difpofitions into form, which unfolds and exercifes thefe capacities and powers, be bad and hurtful ? Or are they only to be formed, to be unfolded and exercifed by the learned, by men of fuperior flations ? Why then do all men poifefs them in common ? jOr is it right and fit that formation, this expanfion, this exercife of the powers of the human mind, fliould be arbi- trarily limited and controuled ? Who may arrogate to himfelf this right over his brethren ? Do not thefe limitations, fo far as they are jufl or expedient, necef- farily arife from the particular condition of perfons, of times, of circumflances, of means, and the a<5tual ilate of things ? And if, in general, thefe limitations were MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 239 were more dilated, what harm would enfue ? Or Is truth perhaps the exclufive property of the learned, or of the ruler, or of the opulent and noble ? Is not every man ordained and called to the knowledge of truth ? Is it not honourable and falutary to every man ? Granting that it is liable to be miflaken by fome, to be abufed by others. Is it always to be miftaken, always to be abufed ? Does not the morn- ing fucceed to the dawn, and to that again the full light of noon ? Should there be then no dawn, left any, deceived by its feeble light, fhould flumble, or lofe their way ? Is then the night more favourable to the traveller than the dawn ? Is error, is igno- rance, aUvays harmlefs ? Are not the evils that at- tend them much greater, and more various, than thofe that may arife from the mifufe of truth ? No, "whoever efleems and loves mankind, his brethren, who underflands their nature and appointment, will fpread light around him whenever he can, and is unconcerned about the confequences it may produce; fmce this he knows for certain, that light is better than darknefs. No, it is only the impoflor, only the tyrant in the ftate and in the church that are in- terefted in it ; it can only be neceflary to the attain- ment of their defpotic defigns, that men {hould be kept in bhndnefs and error, fhould be withheld from approaching the light, left they ftiould fee through the vail flung acrofs their intentions and aftions. It is written, and may well be applied to this fubje£l, « Every one that doeth evil, hateth the light, neither 4 cometh 240 THE VALUE OF Cometh to tlie light, left his deeds fliould be reproved.*' And for the fame reafon it is, that he hindereth others from coming to the light, as far as lieth in his power. Farther. Where a greater improvement of the intelleftual faculties prevails, there is a more com- plete and more elevated ufe and enjoyment of the beauties and blefling? wherewith God has embelliflied our earth, and by which he has revealed to us his greatnefs and glory. "What are all the beauties, all the Wonders of nature, all its bounties and delights, to the unthinking man, who lives amongft an unen- lightened people ! How little will they be obferved by him I How much lefs will they be enjoyed in rational confcioufnefs and chearful elevation of the mind to God 1 How feldom ufed to the ends for which they prefent and offer themfelves to him I How vainly do the heavens and the earth declare to him the glory of God, the Creator and Father of the world ! Cold and thanklefs he fees them with bar- ren furprize ; he diverts himfelf with them, indeed, as a child is amufed with the bright fparks he per- ceives in the finnament at night, and the variegated colours with which the face of the earth is adorned ; he tramples under foot, with equal indifference, plants and flowers and creeping things ; and tal.es no farther intereft in them all, than as they bring im- mediate advantage or detiiment to him. " His belly cleaveth unto the ground," and fo does his fpirit alfo f he feldom raifes himfelf above the vifible and the MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. ^41 the prefcnt ; and remains much clofer allied to the beads of the field than to fpirits and fuperior beings* Confined to the narrow circle of his terrene occupa- tions, and the pleafures of fenfe, he leaves the fun and the moon and the ftars to rife and fet, the parts of the day and the feafons of the year to perform their ftated revolutions, one wonderful difplay of tjie fcenery of nature to follow on another, without afk- ing himfelf a fmgle queftion about the caufes, the defigns, and the connexions of thefe things ; with- out rejoicing in them with confcioufnefs and reflec- tion ; without being fenfible to the greatnefs of God, to the bounty of his heavenly Father, and to his own happinefs. And is this truly a ftate, this the beha- viour worthy gf a man ? Does he thus maintain the pod he fills on earth as a rational creature, as the priefl of nature ? Does he thus, indeed, reach the end for which God has encompalfed him with fo many beauties and blefiings, with fo many demonf- trations of his power, of his wifdom and of his good- nefs, and granted him a mind to underftand them, and a heart to feel them ? And mufl not the grea- ter intelleclual improvement, which promotes this end, and opens to every not abfolutely inattentive man, at once the book of nature and his own eyes to perufe it, be conformable to the will of the Crea- tor, and to the nature of man ! Mull it not pofTefs a real and great value ? A greater intelleftual improvement, thirdly, de- livers mankind from many of the degrading and VOL. II. . R cppreflive 24^ THE VALUE OF opprefilve fliackles of fuperflition and fervile fear. Allow, if we mufl allow it, that the lower and more numerous clafs of men require narrower limits and a tighter rein, if we would have them not abufe their faculties, nor negled their duties : yet to this end neither fuperflition nor thraldom are necelTary, and evils that could only be guarded againfl by fuch means would ceafe to be evils. No, even in this re- fpe6t we are not permitted to do evil that good may come. Superflition and bondage far too deeply de- grade the human creature ; obfcure by far too much the image of God, his Creator, in him ; keep him by much too remote from the end of his being ; are much too manifeflly at Itrife with his perfection and happinefs : for us not to prize, revere, and promote, as matters of the higheil moment, whatever can fe- cure or deliver him from them ; and this a greater degree of light undoubtedly does. It diffipates a thoufand and a thoufand idle terrors, which formerly perplexed and tormented mankind ; a thoufand kinds of impofture and error which formerly held them in cruel bondage. It is only by fuch intellec- tual improvement, that the childifh and pernicious belief in fpeftres, in necromancy and witchcraft, in fupernatural arts and fciences, in the authority and influence of evil fpirits, is weakened and deflroyed. And how much does not this belief difhonour and dif- grace the man, the chrillian, the woriliiper of the only true God ! Kow contradi61:orily does it not caufe him to think, and how inconfiftently and fool- ilhly MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 243 iflily to aft ! How often does it not deprive him of all fpirit to good aftions, and how often lead him to {hocking crimes ! What anxious perturbations tor- ment him on all lides, and how feldom can he re- joice in exiftence ! — And how can true religion and folid piety fmd place, where fuperftition and fervile dread prevail ! But are true religion and folid piety, are filial love to God and filial fatisfaftion in him, is the rational and chearful enjoyment of life, the heri- tage of only a chofen few, or, at moft, of fome ranks and clafles of men ? Are they not the property of manldnd as men ; of the chriftian as a chriftian ? Can their fway become ever too general, or be too firmly eflabliflied ? Can their influence on human condud' and on human happinefs ever be too great ? And, if that be not pofiible, v/ho can deny the value of that intelleftual improvement, whereby they are fo much r Ivanced, or who fhall prefumeto prefcribe it bounds ? No, whoever does fo, mufl himfelf, though probably he will not confefs it, muft himfelf doubt of the truth, and hold the grounds of religion to be very fluftuating and uncertain, or the fear that either the one or the other might fuffer by it would never enter his mind. The more the times are enlightened, the more fa- vourable they are to true religion. Indeed, not to every religion ; not to the appendages by which even the true religion has been in all times encum- bered and disfigured. Thefe mufl alTuredly by de- grees fall off, where greater lights and free invefli- R 2 gation 244 TI^E VALUE OF gation obtain. But is this to be fet to the account of profit or lofs ? Is it to be dreaded or defired by ■the friend of truth, the friend of mankind ? Is it not the additions of men which fo much reftrain and enfeeble the effeds of true religion, that render what is called religion fo unproductive, and to many even hurtful ? Examine the religion of an unen- lightened nation, of a nation where implicit faith prevails. In regard of the generality of its profeD- fors, is it any thing more than a firing of fentences repeated by rote, a round of ceremonies, lip-fervice, and felf-deceit? The grofl'eft conceptions of ^ the deity, with a low, fcrvile, and childilh conduct to- wards him ; the moft fuperflitious notions gf the miraculous effect of certain words and folemn rites and outward actions, and a totally blind confidence in thefe words and rites and a£lions ; a tormenting fcrupulofity about indifferent things, and inconfi der- ate difregard to the moft important , flavifh fears and idle hopes ; zeal without knowledge ; faith without virtue ; devotion vvithout philanthropy ; auftere ob- fervance of arbitrary imjrofitions and injunctions-, and a general relaxation of indifpenfable obligations : this is, generally fpeaking, the religion of every na- tion where men (Hun the light, and refufe it admiflion to the human mind. And is, then, fuch a religion indeed fo refpedable, fo falutary, that I fhould efteera it inviolable and unimprovable, that it muft be fe- cured againft all free inveftigation, and guarded iiroili the light? Admit, to our fcrrow, that this inveftigation. MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 245 inveftlgation, that this light, may be attended by un- belief in one perfon, a difpofition to cavil in another, and in a third indifFerency. Will this be the fruit of them in all men, muft they have thefe effeds for ever ? Will they not produce in many, will they not probably in time be produdive of found know- ledge of the truth, and of inward convidion of it, in the generality of men ? And do we not find, that where darknefs and ignorance prevail, as much at leaft is found of unbelief, of doubt, of indifFerency in regard of the mofl effential points, and perhaps flill more ? And if the num.ber of the outward pro- feiTors of religion were reduced, what would it lofe by the defedion of fuch falfe or cold friends ? Would not the rational faith, the belief, founded on difcuflion and convidion, of the refl, be produdive of more benefit, promote real virtue and happinefs in them and around them, fo much the more ? — No, true religion needs never to fhun the light ; and he that diifufes this, is at the fame time extending the reign of happinefs and virtue. The chriflian, fays our text, is light in the Lord ; if, then, he would maintain this charader, he muft behave like a child of light, as a friend and promoter of it. Enlightened times are, fifthly, favourable to vir- tue. It is true, that proficiency in knowledge and virtue do not always proceed with equal pace. Nay, the former may eventually be detrimental to the lat- ter : but affuredly not upon the whole. The virtues of the coenobite, the virtues of the hermit, the virtues R3 of 246 THE VALUE OF of the fanatic of every denomination^ if any will call them by that name, are confefledly fufferers by the diffemination of knowledge ; they are plants that thrive better in the bofom of darknefs than by an influx of light. But certainly not the virtues of the ufeful citizen, of the fenfible man, of the true chrif- tian ! What is virtue, if it be not founded on fcru- tiny and choice, but is the effeft of necellity, of con- ftraint, of fervile fear, or merely of mechanical habit? Does it deferve that venerable name ? Is it indeed confident with itfelf ? Can it have much inward ftrength and firmnefs ? Does it confer any honour upon a man ? Will it guide and govern him in con- cealment as well as in the eyes of tfie world, in com- mon and familiar life as well as in the folemn offices of devotion or in civil affairs, in the enjoyment of liberty and pleafure as well as under the heavy hand of povv er, or beneath the preffure of misforiunes ? No, only that virtue is thoroughly deferving of the name which is a daughter of hght, the refult of plain refearch and intimate convi(5lion, which is founded on a true knowledge of our nature, our prefent and future appointment, our condud; towards God and man, towards vifible and invifible things. She alone is always equal 5 refts upon firm, immoveable foun- dations ; is ever the fame in all times, in all places, in all conditions ; exalts and dignifies whatever a man does •, accompanies him wherever he is, and never deprives him of her counfel and fupport. She alone wants neither outward coercion nor mechani- cal MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 247 cal impulfe, and finds in herfelf inducement and ability enough for doing conitantly what is right and good, what is fair and generous, what is the beft in every event. Admit that we may fuppofe fuch a virtue where there is no great degree of intellectual improvement : but mull not whatever promotes and extends the latter be, fooner or later, favourable to the former ? How much more fenfible and tender muft the moral fenfe, the confcience of the enlight- ened man, be ! How many more arguments, and how much higher and nobler arguments muft he not bring forv/ard to his mind, as often as he has to chufe between good and evil, or betv/een good and better ! How much farther muft not his fight pierce into the remoter confequences of his undertakings and adions ! How much more accurately muft he not apply the general rules of his condud to every particular circumftance ; how much more eafily con- ned the prefent with the future ! How much more nicely will he not difcern femblance from truth, what has only the looks of virtue, from virtue herfelf! How much lefs will he be faiisfied with only the in- ferior degrees of it ! No, fear not, ye friends of Virtue, that the refped of your friend can be dimi- nifhed among mankind, or her dominion contraded, by your enlargement of the kingdom of light. Truth and virtue are fifters, they are infeparably conneded together ; the true votaries of the one are alfo true votaries of the other ; the prevalence of the latter is fo much the more unreftrained, by how much R4 the 248. THE VALUE OF the former is extended and advanced ; their empire is one and the fame. In enlightened times, fixthly, mankind are more Ipciable, are brought nearer together, connect them- selves more intimately with each other, and by more various tics. Their manners are rendered milder, more agreeable ; their converlation more entertain- ing; their intercourfe more pleafant and afFeftionate; their defires and endeavours to ingratiate themfelves with each other are greater. The higher and lower ilations and clafies of men are lefs diflevered, in- term-ingle more, have more common purfuits and pleafures; and thus the pride of the one is abated, and the decent confidence of the other encouraged. Social pleafures are multiplied, refmed, and dignified in enlightened times. They are, in part, derived from fources abfolutely fiiut up to an unenlightened people. The hiflory of nature and art, of the gene- rations of men and the planting of nations, perfonal and foreign experiences and obfervations, in one cafe, furnifii the richefl and moft ample materials for dif- courfe, for a ufeful as well as agreeable exercife of the underftanding, the fagacity, the difcernment, the wit, the imagination, for the maintenance and fupport of rational chearfulnefs and mirth. Every man is more earnefl to prefent himfelf on the moft favourable fide, to exchange information of one kind for in- formation of another, and to impart as much fatif- faftion and delight, as to receive. And muft not this be a covetable privilege above the condition of imen» MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 249 unenlightened men, whofe manners are generally rude and ferocious, whofe pleafures are altogether fenfual, whofe diverfions are m.erely riotous and noify, \Thofe perceptions are to the lall degree con- tra£led, whofe converfations are commonly trifling, whofe mental faculties are undeveloped and unexer- cifed, and whofe deportment is feldom agreeable, . but much oftener arrogant and difgufling ? — And mud not the advantages of the former be in perfect harmony with the intentions of religion and nature ? Is it not the aim of both to unite men progreifively more, to infpire them with more and more love and efleem for each other, to render them continually more ufeful and agreeable to one another, e\'er more inclined to unfold their mutual capacities and powers by focial wants and propenfities, by focial bufmeiles and pleafures, by all thefe means to im- prove the fum of their focial happinefs, and thus conftantly to approximate them to the purpofes of their exillence, as one fmgle clofely connefted fa- mily of relatives, dwelling together and making each other happy ? Grant, however, that this greater focia- blenefs, this refinement of manners, this intermixture of ranks, this extended a6tion and aftivity, may have their unavoidable inconveniences and difadvan- tages. Grant that they often degenerate into vanity and frivolity ; that they frequently are accompanied by diffimulation and falfehood ; allow that they dif- fipate too much the attention and the faculties of many J 2^0 THE VALUE OF many ; allow that at times they infringe on the rules of ftrift propriety. Upon the whole, they al- ways effect by far more good than harm, occafion far more happinefs than mifery; are always a ftep in advance towards the perfection of human nature, an alleviation and fweetener of the troubles of this ter- reflrial life. Enlightened times are productive of ftill more good. The Itations and aifairs of men are more dignified ; jand therefore we have frelh incitements to fxll more worthily the former, and better to tranf- a£t the latter. Indeed the firll beams of ftronger light often produce quite contrary effefts. The youth who has acquired fome knowledge, and thinks he has refined his tafle, may eafily be induced to defpife the condition and calling of his fore- fathers, and to negled; their concerns, as thinking Iiinifelf capable of greater and more elevated affairs. But is this evil, v/hich only obtains in particular oc- currences, and for the moil part is foon remedied by the punifhment that follows it, or by maturer judgment, is this to be compared with the general and lafting evils which the defect of improvement in this refpeft naturally brings on ? How deplorable is the moral condition of a people, where no one fees farther than the contracted fphere of his own art, his own work, or his own trade ; where none is interefled about what happens otherwife than as it regards himfelf j none thinks on the connection of the MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 251 the whole, and on his o\xti influence upon it ; none acquires any knowledge but what he abfolutely mud ; none ventures to tread out of the road which his fires and grandfires trod before him : where every one works and employs himfelf more by com- pulfion than inclination ; where every one is only animated by felf-interefl, and guided by cuflom ; and if he have any more time or means than what his me- chanical labours require, he knows not what to do with either, and lofes them both ! But, on the other hand, let light but once have made confider- able progrefs amongfl a people ; let men of all clafles and conditions have learnt to refieft more ; let them have acquired greater knowledge of their appoint- ment and that of their brethren; be better acquaint- ed with the wife oeconomy of God upon earth, with the true value and coherence of things ; be better informed in what real honour and dignity, in what perfedion and happinefs confiil ; let them fet about whatever they undertake and do, lefs mechanically, with more rational confideration : how quickly will every man learn to prize his flation, to underftand the needfulnefs and utility of it, to carry on the bufmefs it requires in a more liberal manner, to en- joy the benefits it procures him more rationally and chearfully, and to be in all refpefls more ufeful to the community ! And how much more will he thus promote his fatisfadion and his mental perfec- tion ! How differently will he find himfelf repaid for his diligence and induilry ! When can he be deficient 252 THE VALUE OF deficient In opportunities of ufeful employment, and fources of elevated recreation, even out of his peculiar circle ! How important, how agreeable mufl the labours and affairs of the countryman, the artift, the merchant, the artizan, by this means be- come, when he profecutes them with a liberal mind, free from prejudices, with a cultivated underftand- ing and accuftomed to ref]e£lion, and feels the value of all he does ! And how confiderably will not all thus be gainers ! Indeed we are flill very far fhort of this degree of culture. But, if it be defirable, then mufl likewife the way that leads to it be good, though it be befet with many obilacles. Even the bed field is not free from every kind of weeds; much lefs that v/hich has fo long lain fallow, which has fcarcely been begun to be tilled, and which is fown with grain that can never be perfedlly clean and unmixed. More enlightened times are, laflly, preparative to that better ftate which awaits us after death ; and this fo furely as, in that flate, knowledge of truth and fpiritual perfection are the foundation of our fu- parlor felicity. I am fenfible that at prefent we can frame but ver)' dark and indefinite conceptions of our future ftate, and can know but extremely little of the peculiar occupations and pleafures of it. I am firmly perfuaded, as I obferved in a late dif- courfe, that moft of our knowledge, confidered as knowledge, of whatever fpecles or kind it may be, mufl there fall away as totally ufelefs; and that, in MORE 'ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 253 in this refpeft, the enlightened man, the man en- riched with all the treafures of learning, will have no great advantage over the unlettered and ignorant. This, however, is very certain, that our future life is connefted to the prefent, ;hat it is a fequel of it, that the degree of inward perfedion we here attain will determine the point of perfection of which we fhall there be capable. This is very certain, that in that, as well as in the prefent flate, we {hall think, fliall flrive to find out truth, fhall advance in the knowledge of truth ; that we Ihall do all this as men, and that it will be fo much the more eafy or difficult for us to do ; that we fhall advance more rapidly or more flowly, as we have more or lefs ex- crcifed ourfelves in them here : accordingly, what- ever exercifes us in thought, whatever promotes in- ward fpiritual perfection ; therefore greater profici- ency in intellectual improvement as the ftrongefl in- centive and the befl means to that end, muft be preparatives to that fuperior ftate; therefore mufl enlightened times have a real and great value in this refpeCt alfo. Are we already, in this world, the children of light ; do we here already live in the ' kingdom of light ; are we eager to imbibe every ray of it, however feeble : then mufl we become the fit- ter for its brighter influx, for its perfect fplendor, in a better world ! This will fufHce for difplaylng the great value of a confiderable progrefs in intellectual acquirements, and place it beyond all doubt. I fliall now prqcecd to 254 THE VALUE OF to draw from it a few fuggellions in regard to our conduct. If you are fenfible to the worth of this advantage, then ufe all diligence to turn the portion you are blefi'ed with of it to the moil profitable account; and let it, by your means, be produdive of that good it may and ought to produce. The more enlightened the times and the men, in which, and among whom you live ; fo much the more {hould you be afhamed of ignorance, of fuperftition, of blind faith, of thoughtlefihefs and indifl'erence in refpect to matters which it behoves all men, and confequently you, to know. Therefore, fhut not your eyes againfl the ■light that fhines around you. Walk not in darknefs, fince the day begins to appear. In regions where all is dark, where ignorance and fuperftition prevail without controul : there no man indeed need be afhamed of being ignorant and fuperftitious, to grope his v/ay in the dark, and to ftumble or fall at every ftep he takes ; for there one is as weak and wretched as another, and yet neither believes himfelf either wretched or weak. But, to prefer darknefs to the light that beams upon our eyes ; to ftumble and to fall in a path enlighiened by the fun, as though it were flirouded in the deepeft night ; to remain ftill •ignorant and fuperftitious amidft all the means to knowledge and a rational faith ; this indeed degrades a man, this renders him grofsly criminal. And this, my dear friends, may be more or lefs the cafe with you. " The night is far fpent," may we likewife 4 exclaim MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 255 exclaim to you with an apoftle, the night is far fpent; " the day is at hand," the dawn has already appeared : " it is high time to awake out of fleep." The time is over and gone, when free rejBe£lion and inquir)'' was a crime, and implicit belief meritorious: none of you, except by his own fault, can be defi- cient in means and inducements to refledion, to re- fearch, to the augmentation and improvement of his knowledge. Avail yourfelves of thefe means and inducements, ufe them like men endowed with rea- fon, and as chriftians who are rouzed to freedom. Remain not fupine on the couch of tradition, in the place where prejudice and former inflruftion left you, as if they were the boundaries of all human knowledge. Implicitly follow no human leader ; from children proceed to be men, who thinking for themfelves, go alone, and have learnt to proceed with a firm and fteady flep along the path of truth. To think and act upon thoroughly tried and fure principles ; confiantly to be ftriving after greater light, after farther certainty ; to love truth above all things, and to receive it with an open heart, with- out regard to prevailing opinions and outv/ard cir- cumflances, as it is exhibited to you; is what fhould diftinguifli you from lefs enlightened men, and your times from the times of ignorance and darknefs. Farther. If you confefs the great value of intel- ledual improvement to a nation, then let every one promote 256 THE VALUE OF promote it accordl.ig to his flation and in proportion to his abilities. Particularly you who are teachers of the people, or are farther advanced in knowledge than the reft. But do it with that prudence and af- fedion, which fliouid guide and animate us in all our affairs, and mod in the moft important. Every man is not capable of every truth. Every manner of producing and of diiTeminating even the moft ge- nerally ufeful truths, is not the beft. Few perfons are ftrong and liberal minded enough at once to comprehend and adopt and rightly ufe truths hither- to unknown to them, or even a confiderable part of them. A bright effulgence of light, not making its approaches by degrees, but fuddenly intromitted in all its force, frequently dazzles more than it en- lightens. No, in the moral as well as in the natural world, the tranlition from the darknefs of night to the full blaze of noon niuil come on by degrees, if we would have mankind enjoy that light, and not be forced to ftiut their eyes againft it. Take heed then not to favour fallliood and error by any means ; and ftill more, not to profefs and to teach them as truths. This is an infamous aft of high- treafon againft truth, and debafes every man that does fo, even if he do it in really good intentions. But you need not therefore directly contend againft every error ; not furioufiy attack every thing that either is or appears to you to deferve that name : otherwife, you may at the fame time iliake the foundations MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 257 foundations of truth, which is often in more than one refpe£l connedled with error, and thus prevent its admiflion into the heart. As little may you ven- ture to beflow or to obtrude every truth, without diflin6lion or exception, on ever)' human mind. As every kind of grain will not flourifh in every foil, fo neither is every truth adapted to the comprehenfion of every perfon. Even the proper field requires previous culture before it can be fown with any rea- fonable expectation of a copious harveft, — If you would contribute to the intelleftual improvement of your brethren, begin by fetting t^eir attention and curiofity in motion ; bring them to the fentiment of their imperfeftions and intelkciual wants ; induce them to think, and aflift them in their thoughts ; condu£l them into the footfteps of truth, and re- move thje pnncipal impediments out of their way ; make them fee what they already know and believe in a clearer light, or underftand it with greater per- fpicuity, and thus accuftom them to clear and calm reflection, which will incite an eagernefs after greater information. By this means you will bell carry on your attacks againft levity, floth, fenfuality, inditfci'- ency in religious matters, the low, fervile fear of man, falfe fcrupulofity, hypocritical piety ; and thus flop up the fprmgs of error and fuperllition. Ren- der truth refpedable and amiable to all men, by the modefly and meeknefs with which you deliver it, by the hilarity and ferenity with which you poflefs and difplay it, by the influence it has on your temper VOL. II. s and 258 THE VALUE OF and manners. Recommend and difperfe all good writings, that promote refledion among mankind, and are favourable to the knowledge of truth. Pay particular attention to the inftruclion and formation of young perfons, and thus lay the foundation of greater proficiency for the next generation. In fine, if you confefs the value of greater intel- lectual improvement, and actually enjoy the benefits of it, then walk, as we are exhorted to do in our text, as children of light. Let your light fo fhine before men, that they, feeing your good works, ^lay glorify your father who is in heaven. Conduct yourfelves as men who profefs the truth, and are become wife and free by the knowledge of it. Let its light not merely have an influence on your mind, but let it govern your heart and aduate your whole behaviour. Live as you think. Exhibit your cha- racter as much, and even more, by generous fenti.» ments and good deeds, than by jufl conceptions. Light, that does not at once animate, warm and fertilize, knowledge that does not make us wifer and better, is of no great value, is frequently more prejudicial than ufeful to us. Your progrefs in knowledge fhould be not fo much an ultimate ob- ject, as means to higher aims j means to purer vir- tue, to greater perfection and happinefs. The truth that prevails in your ideas mufl likewife pre- vail in your feelings, in your views and endeavours, in your difpofitions and actions, in your whole de- portment. Only by judging in every concern, by being MORE ENLIGHTENED TIMES. 2$g being dlfpofed In every circumflance, and by ad- ing in every occurrence, as the nature of it requires, and is confiftent with your correlative fituation, will you be ever drawing nearer to perfeftion and to its fupreme and eternal original, the deity; only thus the knowledge of truth can and will become to you a never-failing, a conftantly augmenting fource of happinefs. s z SERMON XXXVin. The Value ofAfflidlons and Tribulations^ /^ GOD, thou hafl placed us here in a flate of ^-^ difcipline and exercife. Here we are never entirely that which, according to our difpofitions, ac* cording to our faculties and capacities we may an4 ihould be. But it is thy gracious will that thefe dif^ pofitions, thefe faculties, thefe capacities fhould here be gradually unfolded, formed, and brought into ac- tion. Here we are in the flate of childhood, but by it we are gradually to grow up to maturity, Yes^ here thou wouldfl educate us for a better, a fuperior life, and prepare us, by various exercifes to the em- ployments and bleflings of it. All that we here are ?ind do, that we enjoy and fuffer, ^11 that happens to us, are fo many means to this exalted purpofe. All is calculated to render us more intelligent, wifer, better, more perfect. In this view hall thou, in thy wifdom. tHE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 26l wifdom, fubjefted us arid all that is around us to fo many accidents arid viciflitudes, for our trial and ex- ercife. To this end haft , thoii ftrewn our courfe with fo many difficulties and impediments that call forth every effort every exertion of our faculties* To this end haft thou fo clofely and fo variouily in- terfperfed hght and darknefs, joys and forrows, pro^ grefs and oppofition, profperity and adverfity in our prefent ftate, leading us to our deftination one while on a plain and even path and then by rugged ways. Oh might we fuffer ourfelves ever to be led and guided by thee, our Father, as obedient children ! Even then fubmit to thy guidance^ when it is at va- riance with our inclinations and defigns, when we are unable to difcover the end and aim of it ! Know- ing that even thy fevereft coi^reftion is the cofredion of a father, of the wifeft and kindeft of fathers ; af- furedly convinced that thy purpofe can never fail, and that thy purpofe is and can be no other than to render us happy ! Yes, In this affurance we will refign ourfelves entirely to thee with filial confidence ; entirely reft in thee and thy will ; and thankfully receive from thy hand as benefa£lions, good and evil* joys and forrows. Oh lead and guide us by thy counfel ! Thy counfel is ever wife and good. Con- duced by thee, we (hall never go aftray. Under thy protection and thy guidance we fhall infallibly reach the mark of our high calling. O God, firengthen and confirm in us thefe pious fentiments, and grant that the meditations we are now about to begin in <5 3 this 252 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. this yiew may be bleffed. This we implore of thee as the votaries of thy fon Jefus, who has taught us to know and to love thee as our common parent, in- cluding our petitions in his words : Our father, &c. HEBREWS Xll. II. No ch^ftening for the prefent feemeth to be joyx)US, but grier- ous : neverthelefs, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteoufnefs unto them which are exercifed thereby. /^ OD loves his creatures of the human race. ^^ This all nature proclaims aloud. This is de- clared by all the capacities and powers that God has given us, all the arrangements he has made in the: moral and the phyfical world, Happinefs is our true, our total deftination ; the deflination of all that exifts and lives, and is fufceptible of hap- pinefs. To this end has he made us ; to this end has he affigned us this part of his dominion for the place of our abode, and embellifhed it with fo mnny beauties and bleffings ; to this end^ has he placed us in the various connexions, wherein We Hand with the material and the fpiritiuvl, "^prld. He has likewife excited in us all a third:, sp, ardent thirfl after happinefs 5 and how is it pofTibl^e th^t h^ the THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 263 the All-gracious, fhould have raifed in us this thirft, and not have furnifhed us with the means of afluag- ing it ! — No, we are furrounded on all fides with fources of pleafure and delight, inviting us to enjoy- ment, no lefs diverfified than copious, and which we can never entirely exhauft, nor each of their feveral kinds. And yet man, this creature fo beloved of God, and fo evidently ordained to happinefs, frequently meets with grievous afflictions ; and no one yet of all our race has ever pafled his life without having fuffered more or lefs. Are then thefe afflictions at ftrife with our deflination ? Do they block up our way to fehcity ? Do they defeat the gracious defigns of our Creator, the plans of almighty goodnefs ? No, that is impoffible ; even thefe affliftions mufi: tend to fomething good, muil poflefs a certain value, mud contribute to the advancement of our happi- nefs : otherwife God, who loves us with paternal tendernefs, and would have us happy and joyful as his children, certainly would never allow them to befall us. And thus the matter ftands. Even afflictions, even tribulations are good ; are benefadtions of our heavenly Father. They are means, harfli and un- pleafant indeed, but efficacious and falutaiy means, for our purification, for our amendment, our higher perfection. They lead us a rough and dreary way^ a way often moiflened with tears and the fweat of our brows j but a way that terminates in happinefs. S4 Of 264 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. Of this cur own reafon and experience will not per- mit us tc doubt ; and the facred books confirm what they teach us, in a manner the mofl exprefs. " No chailening," fays the apoftle in our text, " for ihe prefent feemeth to be joyous, but grievous :" all fe- verity is repugnant and difagreeable to us wliile we feel it. " Neverthelefs, afterward it yieldeth the ^peaceable fruit of righteoufncfs to them which are exercifed thereby :" in the fequel it produces the bed effects to them who allow themfelves to be cor- rected by it, Ivy rendering them good and virtuous. " It is good ioi me," fays the pfalmift, " that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy llatutes." And the apofUes of Jefus, in their own name and in that of their feIlow-chrifti?u>, glory alfo iri tribulations, knowing that " tribulation worketh patience ; and patience, experience ; and experience, hope ; and hope maketh not afhiimed." May we then, my dear friends, learn to take the afflictions and tribulations of our lives, no lefs than the proper bleifrngs and joys of them., -for what they are and may become, and apply them to the advancement of our happinefs ! My defign is, by my prefent difcourfe, to give fome direction to your refledions upon them. To which purpofe I fl/cill examine with you the value of afflic- tions and tribulations in regard to human happinefs, and to that end firfl fliew, how and to what amount afflictions and tribulations have a real value j and then, what gives them that value, wherein it confifls, how they may further our happinefs. J Afflidions THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. ^6$ Affli<5lions and tribulations have no value as ulti- mate objects, but only as means. They are not in- and of themfelvcs either good or wholefome, but only in regard of their efFeds. Afili£lions are and mud ever continue to be afflidions ; difagreeable, painful fenfations. Tribulations are and muft ever remain tribulations ; accidents and occurrences that are adverfe to our nature, and hoflile to cur views and defires. While they are prefent, we think them unpleafant and grievous ; and this, of themfelves, they actually are. They are medicines, bitter medi- cines, which are not prefcribed on account of the plea- fantnefs of their tafte, but only as good againft difeafes, and which probably we mull be long plagued and tormented with before we are completely recovered. They are exercifes, not enjoined us on their own ac- count, but for the fake of their effefts. The fchools, confidered as fchools, have no great value. It is not the reflraints they impofe on cur liberty ; it is not the toilfome apphcation they at one time induce and at another compel us to exert ; not the chaftifement they beflow on the negligent fcholar, for his punifh- ment and corredlon, that make them defirable. It ii3 only the good confequences of thefe hard reflraints, of this laborious affiduity, of this grievous chaflen- ing : only the ufeful knowledge, the better difpofi- tions, the good habitudes, we thereby acquire, that give its whole value to every thing we do and fuffer there. . So alfo ficknefles, misfortunes, loffes of gcods and honours, iofles of patrons and friends, the failure 265 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS* failure of plans and undertakings, poverty, humilia- tions, perfecutions, and whatever elfe opprelTes and allli£ls mankind, have only lb far any real worth, as by their means we become wifer and better and happier. Hence it naturally follows, fecondly, that they ac- quire this value only by the ufe we make of them. Not every m^ui to whom medicine is adminiflered, or who voluntarily taJtes it of himfelf, will thereby be healed. There mull be vital powers yet remain- ing in him ; he muil not purpofeiy hinder and di- miniih the effedls of the medicine he has taken ; he muft do or abflain from many things, which at other times he need not do or abflain from, and fo frame bis whole conduct as is befitting his prefent condi- tion. Not every one who frequents the fchools, and allows himfelf to be inflrudted or is forced to be taught, vnW learn what they are adapted to teach. Many a one will leave them as ignorant and unqua» lified, probably more corrupted and vicious, than he was before. It is only the attentive, the fludious, the obedient fcholar, who willingly imbibes inflruc- tion and profits by difcipline, that returns from them enriched with the treafures of wifdom, and blefTes the man that entered him there. If we would have af- flidions and tribulations to be of real value to us ; then we mull ufe them aright : we mufl account them for what they are ; mufl confider them in their dependency on God and his will ; mufl refie£l upon them, vie^ff tliem oa their moral fide, attend to the. defign tHE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 267 defign of them, and demean ourfelves in all refpe£ls according to our fituationj as it is altered by them. In fhprt, ^fili£tions and tribulations have a value only comparatively, only inafmuch as they fnatch us from the dangers of an uninterrupted proiperity, and teach us what that cvuld never inform us of, or lead us to a point of wifdom and virtue to which prof- perity could never condu£l us. On this principle, they are not necelTary to all men in the fame kind and t;o the fame degree. There are children who may be educated by pure affeftion ; ther^ ar« others that require a ftri<^er difcipline. The former have a tender and fentimental heart ; feel the whole value of every kindnefs Ihewn to them j think nobly ; and find no duty^ no facrifice, too painful whereby they may teftify their gratitude to their benefafl:or§» their friends, their tutors and guides : the latter fort are obftinate, felfwilled, and per\'erfe ; are by far lefs traceable, much harder io be governed, and therefore require to be more, forcibly agitated, mufl be oftea feelingly ghaftifed, before they can be brought to i^iibmiffion and obedience. So likewife there are men of generous and noble fouls, whom profperity neither fafcinates nor hardens, neither fcducing them into folly, nor plunging them in vice ; who hnd, in every 'benefit thjey receive from the hand of God, frefh in-i citeraent to juftice, and frefh energy to beneficence ; and who, thoroughly imprefled with the love of Gcd and man, require no other motives to make the beft, the moll, generally ufeful application of all that they are 268 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. are and have. But poflibly there may be a much greater proportion of fuch as know not how to bear uninterrupted fuccefs, who by it would run the rifk of lofing all fentiment of duty and virtue, all regard for religion, and all the feelings of humanity, and fall by little and little into the mod abandoned pro- fligacy : and, if thtfe perfons are fnatched from this danger by affli£tions and tribulations ; if by their means every deadened fentiment to what is beautiful and good be reftored to motion ; then certainly muft SLfflid-ions and tribulations be to them of far greater value than the mofl flourifhing profperity. And this, my pious hearers, is the true ftate of the cafe. To convince ourfelves of it, we need only pro- ceed to examine a little more circumflantially what it Is that gives human fufferings and tribulations this value, or wherein it confifts, and how they can ad« vance our happinefs. Afflidions and tribulations are, in the firft place^ much adapted to lead a man to ferious reflexions on himfelf, on his dellination, on his condition and the way to happinefs, to imprint thofe refledions on his mind, and aftually to fet him forward on that way.- How rarely are thefe refledions made amidft the cap- tivating fplendour, amidft the confufed noife, the dizzinefs, the deceitful charms, the intoxication, that commonly attend on profperity ! How feldom there can ferious thoughts obtain a hearing ! How quick- ly are they feared away by the oftentation of the vain,- the feoffs of the wanton, or the voice of the flatterer 1^ How THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 269 How feldom there does a man de'cend into himfelf ! How eafily does he overlook and forget all his inwai-d defeds, all his fpiritual wants, in the pofleflion and enjoyment of fo many outward advantages ! How apt is he there to exchange reality for appearances, to confound what he is with what he has, and to lofe fight of himfelf and his proper felicity amidll the en- chanting vifions that float upon his mind ! — But, when the fcene changes ; when all thefe fhining images difappear from his view ; when the compa- nionable buffoon, the fcoffer, the fycophant, the falfe friend, forfake his unhappy houfe ; when all is hufli and quiet around him, and all things awe him into folemn gravity : then he Hands flill, awakes from his dream, grows attentive to himfelf, difcovers the emp- tinefs of his heart, and the inftabillty of fortune ; and what is more natural than for him to enter upon thefe or fmiilar confiderations : What is it then properly that is fo much altered within me, or of me, or about me ? Is it myfelf, or is it the things t^at are without me ? Do they elfentially belong to Rie, or do they only fland in a certain relation to- wards me for a period of time ? Does my whole, does my principal happinefs confift indeed in them ? Is .the lojfs of them utterly irreparable ? The riches I poffefled, were they myfelf? Were the honours and the magnificence that furrounded me, were they me? My ruined health, was that myfelf? Am I not jufl what I was yeflerday and the day before ? Juft as fenfible, or juft as fenfelefs, jufl as good, or juft ^7© tHE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. juft as bad, as heretofore ? And what is, now, the purport of my exigence ? Am I here that I may be rich and great, that 1 may fhine and glitter among rhy brethren, that I may gratify all my fenfual de- fres, that I may^fare fumptuoufly and live joyoufly every day ? That does not depend upon me, that is fubjed to a thoufand accidents i That neither can all men be and do ! That neither can any be and do fo long as they could wifh ! Would providence have permitted all thefe things to be liable to fo many revolutions and changes, if they were our fo- vereigh good, if we w6re to fulfil the defign of our being on earth by the poffeffion and enjoyment of them ? No, that mufl be attainable in every Ration; it muft be within the reach of the poor as well as the rich, of the low as well as the high, of the fick as well as the healthy, of the unfortunate as well as the profperous ; it muft therefore confift in more ellential, more permanent thiilgs. And muft not" wifdom and virtue, muft not fpiritual perfedion, be this fovereign good ? They are indeed intimately' and infeparably connected with' niyfelf, with me. Of them no misfortune can I'ob rfie! They neceffarily adhere neither to riches nor to f>o\^erty j neither to inferior nor to fuperior ftation, neither to health nor ficknefs ! Thefe I may poftefs, enjoy, and infinitely augment, in the humbleft obfcurity as well as in the blaze of a court, in a cottage as S^qW as in a palace, in folitude as well as in the moft' ilurtierous and brilliant affemblies ! They can render me ferene, contented. THE VALUfi OP APFLICTIONS. 27I contented, happy, in every condition ! Even death itfelf cannot deprive me of them ! I take them with me into the grave and into the future world ! And can I then purchafe them at too dear a rate ? Can that be detrimental to me, can that be a misfortune -which makes me a fharer in thofe goods, or which allows me to enjoy them more, and to a larger ex- tent ? — If then tribulations, my pious hearers, rouze and lead a perfon to fuch reflexions, to fuch confi- derations, to fuch conclufions, what a valiie mufl they not be of to him ! Afflidions and tribuTations teach us, farther, to prize more juftly the goods of the earth, to moderate cur defires after them, and our Ic^ve for them. How many a perfon, whofe heart was entirely wrapped up in thefe goods, who was the flave of them, who knew no happinefs but what they procured or promifed him, has learnt in this fchool to efteem them as what they actually are !' When, confined to the bed of ficknefs, and tormented with pain,, he can no longer £njoy them ; when trouble and anxiety render them taftelefs and infipid ; when he fuffers under the lofs of them ; when a change of circumftances has fhaken the proud edifice of his fortune, and threatens him with its fall ; when death has ravifhed from him his patron or his friend : then the fcales fall off from his eyes ; he then intimately feels how much thefe goods were tranfitory and worthlefs, how incapable they are to render a man wholly and conftantly happy, and how inadequate to the vehement endeavours that 272 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. that are made to procure them. Now the bonds that bound him to them are unloofed. Now he trufts no longer to the fupport of a frail reed, as though he leaned againfl a rock. Now he depends no more upon goods that w^ere only lent him, as if they were his unalienable property ; confides no more in cif- tindions that every accident may annul, in flrength that may fo fuddenly be lofl, in men that may cli^ to- day, in a life that is fo fhort and uncertain. And, fince his avidity for happinefs ftill remains equ^illy keen, equally infatiable ; he therefore directs it to- wards other goods, that are more durable, and more worthy of his endeavours. Now he learns to pi efer internals to externals, wifdom and virtue before ho- nours and wealth, intellectual joys before fenfual pleafures, the invifible to the vifible, the Creator to the creature. And how greatly mufl he not thus be the gainer ! How much feldomer now does he exert his faculties in vain ! How much more rarely do his hopes and expedations fail him ! How much firmer is his welfare fixt ! And mufl; not the tribu- lations which have helped him to this fituation, be of great value to him ? In like manner, afflidions and tribulations very frequently teach us temperance, felf-government, and the art of difpenfmg with many things. This we r.re firfl: forced to by necelTity. We cannot, we fhould not any longer do certain things, any longer lead a certain kind of life, any longer partake of certain amufements. We have lofl the means and the right to THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. I^'i^ tn them. We mufl now fubmit to certain reftric- (ions. By degrees we become ufed to them ; they grow eafy, agreeable to us ; we find many confider- able advantages in them. Now we aft from inclina- tion, from principle ; we now feel ourfelves more free, more independent on outward things ; find our- felves lefs affeded by the inconftancy, and lefs liable to the ftrokes of fortune ; learn to endure quiet, to efteem privacy, to love and profit by retirement, and by all tliefe things become better and more accom- phfhed. What numbers have for the firft time learnt to govern themfelves, and to underlland and _enjoy true freedom, in thefe fchools of tribulation ! What numbers have been fnatched, indeed a^rainft their will, but to their real happinefs, from a round of deceitful diflipations and diverfions, where they could ;iever be right-minded, could never enjoy their lives in complete confcioufnefs, never be chearful like rational beings, where they were the lamentable fport of their own pafTions and the pafTions of others ! How many have there been taught to fubdue thofe defires to which they were fonnerly forced llavifhly to obey, and to deprive themfelves of a thoufand things, and to forego them without uneafmefs, which till now were to them urgent wants ! They are now, in feveral refpefts, more circumfcribed, but on the whole, more free ; are left more alone, but are more fatisfied with themfelves, and happier in the filent enjoyment of their own hearts. VOL. II. T Aifliaions 274 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. Affllcllons and tribulations are, fourthly, very often a fchool of humanity, and the milder virtues of focial life ; and what a value mufl this alfo confer upon them 1 But too frequently does uninterrupted fuc- cefs render us obdurate, infenfible, unfeeling to the neceffities of others. The profperous man can fel- dom form to himfelf a jufl reprefentation of the mi- feries of the diftrefled ; his ftation, his affairs, his companies, keep him commonly far away from the fight of them. The healthy and robufl very fre- quently imagine the complaints of pain and difeafe to be exaggerated or affeded, have had no fimilar fenfations, and, if they do not abfolutely difpute thofe of others, yet their flrong nervous fyflem is but little moved at the recital of them. He with whom all things fucceed, is but too apt to blame another, who laments over defeated plans, thwarted expe£l:ations, or fruftrated labours and endeavours, and to charge him with imprudence and bad management. And how much mufl this not weaken his compafTion ! — But the man that has fuffered himfelf, my dear friends, oh he feels the forrows of his brother in a diiterent way ; he fmarts at the very fight of the fuffsrer of pain, he mingles his tears with the tears of the mourner, he feels every ftroke that falls on another^, as if he were fmitten himfelf. Every fear his pad fufFerings have left upon his heart pains him afrefh^. and gives him fo quick a fcnfe of the fufFerings of another, as will certainly not leave him either indif- ferent or ina(3:ive. He who has himfelf borne the burdea THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 275 burden of misfortune, feels alfo how hard it preiTes when he hears another groan beneath it, and finds within him the flrongeft impulfe to alleviate that burden, if he cannot totally remove It. He who has himfelf experienced how eafily the wifefl; plans may be fruftrated, how often the beft undertakings fail, how often fwiftnefs will not fucceed in the race, nor flrength in the conflift, nor prudence in bufmefsj how much in all tliefe refpefts depends on fortune and favourable circumftances, he will certainly deem otherwife of him who aftually fuflers under thefe experiences, will judge him with much more lenity^ hot condemn him with feverlty, not impute his mif- fortune to him as a crimen and not Ihut up his heart to companion for him. He who has himfelf experi-* enced how fweet the participations, the comfort, the affiftances of a friend are in dlftrefs ; how the heart is thus relieved, the profpe(fl cleared up, the hopes revived, when a man can pour out his forrows into the bofom of another, when he feels that he is not abandoned by all men, that he is not left to fulfer alone, and may venture to afiure himfelf of a guide and fupport even along the ruggedefl path of life * whoever has made trial of this, oh how v.ill he run to open his heart to the fuft'erlngs of his friend and his brother, to give him a vent for his forrows, to receive his complaints, and to dry up his tears ; how eagerly will he do all that in him lies to throw fome light upon his darknefs, and to confolc and revive him ! And how gentle, how complacent, how fer- T 3 viceablcj 2/6 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS-. viceable, how humane, how beneficent, mufl not thefe experiences and I'enfations render him in gene- ral to all mankind ! Afflictions and tribulations are often a fchool of many other virtues, and particularly of the fincereft devotion. How can we better learn rcfignation, ab- folute, unlimited fubmiffion to the will of God, than when his will is in oppofition to our own, and he demands of us the facrifice of fuch things as had the whole attachment of our heart ; and yet we fubmit to his will, and acltnowledge his will to be right and good and unblamable ; and yet without hefitatron make him thefe facrifices, let them be never fo dear to us, and--fay to him in fentiments of the mofl per- feft fmcerity : — " Father, not as I will, but as thou wilt — Father, thy will be done !" How can we more flrongly tePcify our confidence in his fovereign wifdom and goodiiefs, how fhew our filial and full compliance with all his arrangements and difpenfa- tions, how our convi£lion that his thoughts and ways are far, far exalted above our thoughts and ways, and are infinitely better and more perfect than ours; than w;hen, even in the midfl of misfortunes, we adore him as the all-wife and the all-bountiful, accept without relu6lance whatever he ordahis, or permits, or does, and compofe ourfelves by reflexions on his fuperintendency, that he has nothing but perfeftion and felicity in view, and that his purpofes can never fail ! How can we exercife ourfelves more in faith towards the Almighty, than when we hold it fafl and will THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 277 uill not let it go, even when reduced to the depth of diflrefs, even then bcileve end hope, though we do not fee, though all about us is darknefs, though we feem to be forfaken by all, and every thing threatens us with perdition and ruin ? And if we are thus exercifed and ftrengthened, by fufierings and tribu- lations, in refignation to the will of God, in con- fidence in him, in fatisfaftion with his ways j if, by their means, we learn the hardell, but at the fame time the nobleft kind of obedience, the rarefl but the pureft devotion ; mufl not this evidently promote our advantage and perfection ? Muft it not bring us nearer to the deity, and render us more fit for his complacency and for the. tokens of his favour? Mull it not prepare an ample recompeiicc for our fidelity in a better v/orld ? And mufl not this p-ive a great value to every affliclion and tribulation ? Yet more. How important, how dear to a man mufl afflidions and tribulations render the doctrines nnd comforts of religion ! Religion, to which he formerly perhaps paid little regard, probably reftri di- ed it to certain opinions, or cere^nonies and pradices, which he but too often thought he could very well difpenfe with, or which only prefented itfelf to him under a gloomy and uninviting form, and which he never underflood as the friend, the guide," and the comforter of the human '-ace ! When we are af- flifted, what is more natural than to look out for help ? And how fel^om with any certitude can we €xpe6t it from men ! How much feldomer do we T 3 adually 2/8 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. aftually obtain it from that quarter ! And to whom then fliall we tipply for it but to him who alone can conftantly and certainly ajibrd affiflance, and does jnofl readily grant it ? Yes, Lord, when tribulation comes on, then docs a man turn himfelf to thee ! Then does the fentiment of an almighty, an all-wife, an all-gracious ruler of the world, a father in heaven, which had probably long lain dormant in the foul, ?igain revive ; then the inclinations and dehrcs once more take their natural turn ; they tarn to their creator and preferver, to the eternal fource of being and be- nignity, to him in whom we live and move and are ! Now has the troubled fpirit, the foul toffed to and fro upon the billows of adverfity, once more found a fixed point, to which flie may adhere, from vi^hence fhe may proceed, and to which fhe may return, a prop on which flie can rely, a fource of comfort from which fhe may draw rcfrefliment. How dif- ferently does file now feel her dependance on the fo- vereign being, and the Intimate and bleifed relation that fubfills between tlie creature and the Creator [ She is now no more forfaken, no longer forcibly toru and fevered from her former connedlions, no more a fclitary exiftence in the land of the living ! She has now the Lord alway before her, and knows and feels that file walks in his fight, and is prote6led by his arm, that fhe lives in his kingdom, is one of his chil- dren and fubjecls, and is aifociated in the moft vari- pus and intimate manner with the vlfible and the invifible, the material and the fpiritual world, by him THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. 279 who comprehends and unites all things in himfelf. in what an altered light miiil flie now view the doc- trine of an all-direfting Providence and the govern- ment of the Mod High ! What comfort muft fhe be infpired with, which fhe never tafled before ! She now no longer appears to be the fport of chance and the creature of fortune ; no more complains in fulleii murmurs of the injuftice fhe has undergone ; is no longer tormented by rage and rancour againfl the proximate caufes of her fuflerings ; no longer har- raffed by forming plans and devifmg means of re- quiting evil with evil. No, it is the Lord's doings all things are under his fupreme controul ; he dif- tributes both profpelity and adverfity, riches and poverty, health and ficknefs, hfe and death, accord- ing to his good pleafure, amongfl the children of men ; he elevates and he depreiles, he wounds and heals, condufts to the grave and out of it again, and what he ordains and does mufl neceflarily be rioht and good, mufl, fooner or later, in this way or in that, turn to my advantage, and to the advantage of his whole family on earth ! And this, my dear friends, this tranquillizes ! This pours balm into the wounded heart ! This gives all our fufferings a quite different, a much lefs terrible afped ! And how important, hov/ precious mufl not the doctrine of our immortality, of the future and better life, be to the f^.ifferer ! When he io acutely feels the emptinefs and inlufficiency of the prefent, with ?.ll its goods and advantages and joys j when {o T 4 many 28o THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. many ties that bound him to it are difiblved or re- laxed ; vvhen the part of his comfe that ftill Hes be- fore him is lofl in obfcurity and darknefs ; when he meets with fo many ftumbling-blocks, fo many im- pediments and difficulties in it : how revivmg mufl be the profpeft into a fuperior and a better hfe ! As reviving, as when the weary, fainting, perfecuted traveller, defcries from afar the term of his pilgrim- age, the fpires of his native land. And with how much greater eafe, with hov/ much greater fortitude, will he not now bear the troubles of Hfe ! How much m.ore flrenuoufly and chearfully will he not now complete his courfe, when he runs, not as un- certainly, but expects at the end of it the richefl re- compence for ail^ the glorious reward of his faith and perfeverance ! Oh what a value mud religion hence acquire in his fight ! And whar a value muft afflic- tions and tiibulations have, which difcovered to him the excellency of it, and caufed him to apply to its comforts ! Alilictions and tribulations are, laftly, often the moft efficacious means of improving mankind in ge- neral, of roufmg them to a total change in their minds and manners. What all the arguments of reafon and religion, what all the bounties of God, what all the remonilrances, exhortations, and in- treatiey of teachers and friends, what neither the ftill, fmall voice of confcience, nor its louder alarms and reproaches could ever effeft ; has often been done by afflictions and tribulations. The former not un» frequently THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS. sSl frequently Aide over the heart of the thoughtlefs and hardened oliender, like water over the fmooth fur- face of a rock, and leave no trace behind. The lat- ter terrify and flop the inconfiderate wretch that is running headlong to dcflrudion ; they forcibly and fuddenly arrefl him in his wicked carreer ; they ftrike more deeply into the recefles of his heart ; they withdraw, obfcure, and diffipatc, like dull before the wind, all the vifionary forms of happinefs that floated in his mind and cheated his hopes ; and wi\^ permit him no longer to doubt that he is not what he took himfelf for, that he has not what he thought he had, that he is unhappy and wretched. His feducers for- fake him, or laugh at his diPirefs ; his flatterers are fdent, and take themfelves avv'ay ; the fnares that furround him ftand expofed to his view ; the pre- cipice he was approaching firikes him dumb with amazem.ent. He fbands petrified with horror ; he turns his eyes inward ; he muft bethink himfelf, mufl retreat, muft feek other comforts, other plea- fures, other friends, muft find out fome other way to happinefs. No longer dazzled and deceived by outward things, he is and fees himfelf full of defects and infirmities, fees himfelf all diforder and confufion. And now, when reduced to this condition, with fuch experiences and feelings, if he hear the voice of re- ligion, if her calls to amendment ftrike upon his mind, encouragement and inftrudion enter ; if the good providence of God fupply him with fome pecu- liar affiftance, commiffion to him fome meficngef of peace. 282 THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS, peace, fend to him fome hearty and honeil friend : how much more difpofed mufl he not be to hften to that voice, to follow that call, and to employ thefe means to his amendment ! — I will not, however, .pretend, that afflictions and tribulations do always, that they -^.ery often, produce fuch efFefts in vicious men. They frequently exafperate, frequeiuly harden, frequently pervert them ftill more. Yet many have got the rudiments of reileclion and amendment in this fchool. Many have here received the primary incitement, many have embraced the firft refolves, have made the firft fteps of their return to the path of duty and virtue. Many have been forced to ex- claim with the pfalmlfl ; It is good for me that I have been afflicted. Before I was afflided I went wrong, but now have I learnt thy judgments. I thank thee, o Lord, for having humbled me by fuf- ferings, for having thus mortified my vanity, taught me to tame my violent paffions, brought me to a lively fenfe of my weaknefs and imbecihty, and in- ftrufted me to keep thy ftatutes. Thus chaftening is productive of falutary effects in them that are exercifed thereby, by rendering them virtuous and good. Thus, therefore, even afflidtions and tribulations are of real and often of very great value. Thus* are they the benefactions of Providence, and fources of happinefs. If ftorms and tempefts in the natural world drive de(tru6tive difeafes away from our dwellings, and bring life and health and fertility with them j fo likewife may the blafls of misfortune THE VALUE OF AFFLICTIONS, 283 misfortune in the moral world roufe the fupine from their dangerous {lumber, drive away mifts and va- pours from the eyes, and awaken the torpid to nev/ powers and a£tion, fharpen the dull feelings of the palfied fmner, and reflore to life the fpiritually dead. Far be ;t then from us to let fufferings and tribula- tions flacken our confidence in the unalterable and never-failing goodnefs of our Fiuher in heaven ! No, even they are efFefts and proofs of it. No, with filial reverence will we accept the cup of forrow from his parental hand, and never doubt, even whilft drink- ing out its bitter dregs, that it is wholefome medicine, jby which he reftores us to health and life. SERMON XXXIX. Tide Value of a good Reputatio) GOD, who art the father and benefa£lor of us all ; who hafl given us and ftill art ever giv- ing us, poor and mean as we are of our ourfelves, fo many proofs of thy peculiar elleem and provi- dence, intimating thereby that we fhould likewife mutually efteem, cordially love, and reciprocally promote, as far as in us lies, the happinefs of each other, as thy children, as members of one family. To this end hafl thou fo intimately connected us to- gether; made us all in fo many refpe(Sls dependent on each other, and planted in our hearts fo power- ful an impulfe to fympathy and benevolence. How kind and righteous is thy will, o God, and how happy were it for us, if we conflantly fulfilled it with pleafure and fidelity ! Forgive us, merciful Father, that we fo frequently behave as difobedient children THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. zB ^ children towards thee, and as foes to each other. Teach us better to imderftand our common connec- tions and our proper advantages, and more (IriCtly to obferve the duties of juftice, of equity, of hu- manity. Replenifli us with a fmcere eftcem for whatever our brethren may pofTefs of good and ex- cellent; and grant that we may never be milled by levity, by envy, by hatred or by vanity, to fpeak or to do any thing that may difturb them in the pof- felTion of the endowments and blefTmgs bellowed on them by thee, or may injure or offend them in any other refped:. Blefs to this end the meditations we are now about to begin. Caufe us to be fo con- vinced of the value of the good reputation of our neighbour, that we may henceforth make it to us an inviolable law never purpofely to injure it in any manner whatever. This we implore of thee as the difciples of Jefus Chrift, our bleffed lord and faviour, humbly concluding our petitions in his name and words : Our father, &c. £86 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. PROVERBS XXll. I* A good name is rather to be chofen than great riches, and loving favour rather than fdver or gold. T T'ERY often it happens that a man Is negligent ^ and carelefs about matters of great importance, only becaufe he is ignorant of their value, or not fuf- ficiently attentive to it ; or becaufe he conceives not the privation of them to be fo prejudicial and irre- parable as it really is. This is but too frequently the cafe in regard to the time allotted us to pafs oil earth. It is not believed or confidered to be deftined to affairs, on the fuccefsful tranfading v/hereof, not only our welfare in this world depends, but hkewife our condition in that which is to come. It is not believed or confidered, that this precious time is very liable to be loft, that loft time can never be re* called, and that the benefits which we fuffer to efcape us by the wafte or the abufe of it can be compenfated by nothing. It is not believed or con* fidered, that each day, each hour of life, when re- garded in its connection with futurity, is of the ut- moft importance, that It may frequently be decifive. Hence it is that moft men are fo prodigal of their time; hence fo great a part of it is trifled away either in doing nothing, or in childlfli amufements ; hence THE VALUE OF A RGOOD EPUTATlON. 28/ hence it is that concerns of the greatefl confequence are fo much neglefted ; hence it is that one Uay is fuffered to pafs after another, one month after an- other, one year after another, before a man ferioufly fets about his improvement and his everlafting falva- tion. Juft as we do with our time, fo do we not unfre- quently with the good name of our neighbour. It not always happens, it happens indeed but rarely, that we fay and do fuch things as are prejudicial to our neighbour's hme from wickcdnefs and a defire to hurt. But it is not believed or confidered that fo much depends upon it ; that it is fo eafily injured or loft, and that this damage can fo feldom be repaired or made good. It is not believed or confidered, that thereby not only the v/ell-being and comfort of the particular perfons againft whom the offence is committed are difturbed, but even the good of the whole fociety is injured in various ways. Hence it is, that a man fo often gives full licence to his tongue in judging of his neighbour ; fo often facri-' fices truth to wit, and chriftian affection and for- bearance to the defire of pleafmg ; fo often utters harmful or ambiguous expreiiions- of others, without being fully perfuaded that they are well-founded, or making himfelf the flighteft reproaches thereon. This being the cafe, my friends, there can be no better means of attacking this failing, and of ren- dering us more circumfpeft on this matter, than by reprefenting it in its real complection, and thus to 2- excite £58 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATIOK* excite in our minds a lively fentiment of its import- ance» This is what I now purpofe to attempt. I will fliew you the great value., of a good reputa- tion, and remind you of the duties we owe in this refpedt to ourfelves and to our neighbour. This confideration vvill, I doubt not, thoroughly convince you of the truth of Solomon's expreffion in our text: " A good name is rather to be chofen than great riches, and loving favour rather than filver or gold.'* By the reputation or good name of a man, I un- derftand the general confideration wherein he {lands with all thofe that know him perfonally or by the report of others ; and this confideration is grounded on the good opinion the public has of his under- flanding, of his integrity, of his temper and way of thinking, of his (lull in certain bufineifes, arts, and fciences, or is fupported by other advantages and merits attributed to him. On this good charaQier, I fay, extremely much depends ; it is of very great value ; for by it we are rendered much happiei", much more generally ufeful, and not unfrequently morally better, than we fhould or could be with- out it. Our good name, in the firfl place, promotes our happinefs, efpecially, fo far as it depends on our out- ward welfare. To this happinefs thoufands of perfons mull contribute out of what they have. It is a large and fpacious edifice, that we indeed mud plan our- felves-, muft lay the foundation of, to the carrying on and confolidation whereof we muH conflantly labour ; we *riIE VALtJE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. 289 vje can neither bring to any confiderable degree of perfedion without the afliflance of others, nor properly maintain it when finifhed. One while we are in want of the fagacity and advice, then of the greater abilities and force, now of the afliflance and fupport, then of the encouragement of our fellow- beings, for effeQirg our defigns, for fuccefsfully profecuting our affairs and undertakings, for quietly enjoying our poffeflions and profits, or for conlbling us under adverfe events. But fhall our fellow-creatures ferve us with their perceptions and advice ; flinll they employ their abi- lities and force to our benefit ; lliall they aflifl, fup- port, and encourage us ? Then mull they have a ftronger incitement to it than mere felf-interell can give them. Thefe advantages are not always ; they are but feldom ; and fome of them can never be purchafed. They are the fruit of the efleem and the benevolence with which our brethren are affect- ed towards us ; and this efleem, this benevolence, is founded on the good opinion they entertain of us. In proportion as this good opinion is counterafted and enfeebled, as fufpicion or difefleem take place 5 in the fame proportion will their readinefs and ardour to promote our happinefs be diminiflied, and their benevolence and obliging behaviour towards us will change into coldnefs and indifference. Only put the queflion to yourfelves, my friends : why do you fo readily, why is it fo agreeable to ycu to af- ford all pofTible fervice to certain perfons j and why VOL. II. u do 290 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. do you find it fo unpleafant, why are you forced to ufe fo much conflraint and felf-denial, to do for others any thing beyond what the ftrideft juflice re- quires of you ? Does it not principally proceed from this, that you have a good opinion of the for- mer, and a bad opinion of the latter ; that you efteem the one fort, and defpife the other ? How readily does a man communicate his intelligence and his bell advice to him whom he accounts a fenfible and an honeft man, that knows how to efteem and to ufe good counfel ! How chearfully does a man lend a part of his confequence or his property to the perfon on whofe fmcerity and uprightnefs he can fafely depend ! How willingly do we afford help and fupport to him whom we beheve to have no other than lawful intentions and projects, and would be ready, in fnnilar cafes, to afford the fame help and fupport to us ! How heartily does a man com- fort him whofe misfortunes cannot be imputed to his own faulty condud, but to unavoidable and un- accountable events, and whom he could fmcerely wilh to have been fuccefsful, for the fake of his good qualities and deferts ! On the other hand, who would offer advice to the fool, or open himfelf to the artful ? Who would truft his property or his countenance to the deceiver ? Who would readily ailbrd help and fupport to the bafe or the ungrate- ful ? Who would endeavour to comfort the wilful tranfgreffor ? Certainly then a great part of our happinefs or of our outward welfare, depends on 3 the THE VALUE OF A GOOD RF.PUTATIO^f. 29I the behaviour of our fellow-creatures towards us ; certainly likewife their behaviour towards us is de- termined by the good or the bad reputation we have in their eflimation. This is not all. We are defigned for fecial life, for intercourfe with other perfons, for participation in our reciprocal joys and pleafures. Apart from all our rational fellow-creatures, fecluded from their fo- cieties and pleafures, left alone to curfelves and our folitary reflections and feelings, we could either not be happy at all, or not in fo high a degree. The genial fentiment of benevolence and friendfhip, that pure and abundant fource of pleafure, would foon be extinct, for want of a fupply ; and the oppofite fenfations of fpleen, vexation, and mifanthropy, would fucceed in its place. But if focial life fliould have charms for us ; if intercourfe with others fhould be agreeable, if they are to take part in what befalls us, and to admit us to a fhare in their joys and their pleafures; then muft we ftand in good repute with them. They muft afcribe to us fuch qualities or difpofitions as are of fome value in their eyes, that render us not unworthy of their friendfliip and con- verfc. At leaft, they muft not charge us v.^ith any thing, they muft not believe us to be capable of any thing, that merits contempt or abhorrence. A natural and unconftrained behaviour, a free and eafy communication of our fentiments and feelings ; a frank but not injurious opinion of what we fee and hear, of what is faid and done j a mutually earneft, u 2 but Cg2 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. but not a ftudied and troublefome endeavour to be agreeable : are undoubtedly the real delights of fo- cial life, the greatefl charms of friendly intercourfe. But can thefe fubfift where the members of the fo- eiety are not conneded by reciprocal efteem ? Will any one, who, whether by his own fault or not, ftands in bad repute among the reft, be admitted to the enjoyment of thefe fatisfaftions ? Will not people fhun the converfation of one that lies under the imputation of a weak underftanding or a wicked heart, who is reckoned a hypocrite, or a flanderer, or a harih and farcaftic cenfor, or a fower of diffen- tion, or to whofe charge any other bad difpofitions or actions are laid ? And if we cannot abfolutely avoid his company on account of our circumftances and fituation, can it be imagined that we fliall take much pains to promote his pleafure ? Will people do juftice to his charadler, his judgments, and his conduct ? Will people fliew themfelves to him in their natural colours, and by that means furnifli him •with opportunity and encouragement to do fo too ? Will they not rather interpret his moft indifferent geftures, his moft harm.lefs words and aftions, nay his m.oft infignlficant looks, by the prepofleflions they have imbibed againft him ? Will not his ac- quaintance be either utterly cold and referved to- wards liim, or, by a forced regard and friendfliip, rather confound than comfort him ? Certainly, let a man have what eminent capacities and endowments of mind, what good quaUiies, what great merits fo- ever j THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. 293 ever; but let malice or levity fpread injurious reports about him, reports which poffcfs a certain degree of credibility ; and he will foon be deprived of the bed part of the focial fatisfadlions and pleafures which his talents, his qualities, his deferts, gave him great right to expeft : he will probably foon be reduced to live entirely alone, or at leaft to confine his con- verfation to the perfons dependent upon him ; and how much muft not this impair his happinefs, how many fources of it muft it exclude him from enjoy- ing ! While to him, on the other hand, who is in poffeflion of a good reputation, all thefe fources of pleafure and delight ftand open; and he may even with far lefs talents and merits, with far greater fail- ings and infirmities, than the other has, receive from them various kinds of fatisfaclion and happinefs. So certain is it that a good name is preferable to w^ealth, and favour to filver or gold. But, as a good reputation contributes much to our happinefs, inafmuch as our outward welfare and our intercourfe with others depend upon it, fo fhall we thereby become more generally ufeful than we other- wife could be, and may contribute much more to the happinefs of others, than w^e otherwife could do ; and this in various ways. For being ufeful to fociety, it is not enough that we poflefs certain capacities and Jkill in many re- fpe£ls ; that we are mafters of certain arts or fciences, or certain kinds of trade and commerce ; that we execute with induftry and punctuality the concerns u 3 intruftecl 294 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION, intrufted to us ; but others mufl likewife believe and know that we have thefe capacities and aptitudes, that we underfland thefe matters, and that we may fafely be trufted with them. And, as generally fpeaking we are not the only perfons who can ren- der thefe or other fervices to fociety, then mankind mufl be induced to accept them at our hands ; and to this end they muft afcribe to us fuch qualities and diftinctive merits by which we may attract their re- gard and conciliate their efteem. At leaft, we mufl: not have a bafe or doubtful character in the eye of the public, and our conduvt mufl: be irreproachable, if our fervices are to be preferred to thofe of others. We mufl: therefore have a good name among our fellow-creatures ; they mufl: have a good opinion of us. Of what fervice, in this refpeft, is wifdom to the wife, to the fcholar his learning, to the patriot his vigilant and generous ardour for the -common wel- fare, if men will not eled them to fuch offices, and place them in fuch flations, as may enable them to fhew their wifdom, their learning, their patriotic difpofitions, and apply them to purpofes of import- ance ? But will men ordinarily confer thefe offices and pofls upon them, if they entertain a mean opi- nion of them ; if they take the wife man for an ob- ftinate and fantaflical fellow, the fcholar for a crofs- grained, upfl:art pedant, the patriot for a felf-in- terefled or ambitious pretender; or though they fhould indeed allow their eminent qualities, yet at the THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. ■ 295 the fame time (liould charge them with any fuch blcmiflies in their character as fiiould take away- all their luflre ? The cafe is exaQly the fame with the artifl:, with the artificer, with the merchant, with the lawyer, and others. That the artift or the artificer may exert himfclf in his art or profcilion ; that he may bring himfelf to a certain degree of perfedion in it, and fo render himfelf truly ufeful to fociety : he muft have m.uch work of art or induftry to execute ; and this will not be given him, if they who are to employ him have not a good opinion of his talents or his {kill,- or a regard for him on account of his pcrfpnal or moral qualities. That the merchant may purfue his aiiairs with fuccefs ; that, by an extenfive and gain- ful commerce, he may promote the welfare of his countrymen, and of human fociety in general : he muft be taken, both at home and abroad, for an in- telligent, fagacious, active, and upright man ; he muft be thought to underftand his bufmefs well, and to tranfafl it with carefulnefs and caution ; and in the degree that this belief is weakened or diminiflied, to the fame degree will his activity for the general advantage be reduced, and his influence on the whole be leflened. That, laftly, the lawyer may be really ufeful by his knowledge of the laws of the land, and of the manner of proceeding in htigations, or even by his eloquence : he fliould ftand, with the parties as well as with the bench, in the reputa- tion of a well-informed, acute, and folid man, as a u ^ friend 296 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. friend to truth and juftice, as a foe to all fmlfler evafions, every fpecies of fubterfuge and corruption; and the more general and unqueflioned this reputa- tion is, fo much the more is he in a capacity, by difcreet diffuafions frorn perilous fuits, or by friendly accommodations of controverfies already begun, or by a refolute profecution of right, to contribute to the common good. In (hort, without the help of a good reputation, no m.an will eafily find opportunity to afford confiderable*fervice to human fociety; and by the lofs of it, all the capacities and means a man may pofTefs to that end will generally be rendered ufelefs. Still more. Though by means of the place w^ hold, or the office we fill in fociety, we have the mofl frequent occafions of applying our talents to the general welfare ; yet we fhall feldom be able to do fo with fuccefs, unlefs we bear a good reputation. The purity of our intentions will always be called into doubt ; our bed propofals will be rejefted. Our mofl public-fpirited endeavours will fail, for want of countenance and fupport, or will even be attacked by violent and obdmate oppofition. We fhall very frequently exert our abilities and faculties in vain, and always, even with the mofl fmcer^ application of them, elfe£l comparatively but little. Whereas the better the opinion men have of us; the more confidence they repofe in our ikill and in- tegrity: with fo much better fuccefs fhall we do what we ought in virtue of our office and vocation ; fQ THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. 297 fo much the fewer hindrances and difficulties (hall we meet with in the execution of our good defigns, or in the profecution of falutary projedts. Good men will fupport and animate us in them according to their means ; and bad men will not cafily venture to commence hollilitics with us. Of how great importance, in this refped, for ex- ample, is the good tame of a prince, of a miniiler, or a magiflrate ! So long as the ruler or the perfons entrufted with the public adminiftration are reputed to be the wife and good fathers of the people ; fo long as the public afcribe eminent abilities and vir- tues to them ; fo long as they are generally thought to be honefl and faithful : fo long will it be eafy for them to govern the fubjefts according to their plea- fure ; to give currency and weight to their laws and ordinances; to accomplifh their aims without oppofi- tion ; and to unite, if not all, yet the majority of the members of the flate, in the profecution of them. But do men once begin to doubt of their abilities, or of their fleadinefs and integrity, and thefe doubts become general j do men once charge them with felf-intereftednefs, or tyrannical difpofi- tions, or even indifferency to the common welfare : they will find but little fupport, even though they are fincerely acting confidently with their duty, and are labouring for the profperity of the country ; but will meet with much oppofition. Mankind will not trufh to their mod exprefs declarations and affer- tions J will find fault with their wifefl meafures; de- fpifc 298 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. fpife and tranfgrefs their mofl falutary laws ; mur- mur at their mod reafonable demands ; and pay them no other than a forced, and of confequence a very impcrfcd: and defedive obedience. How much J in this refpeft, depends on the re- pute wherein a pubhc teacher of reKgion flands with liis auditory ! Do they doubt of his integrity ; do they think they difcover a contradidion between his doftrine and his condu6l ; does he fall under the reproach of a hireling, who, for the fake of lucre or of ap. empty honour, maintains what he does not believe, and extols what he does not chufe to per-- form : then, let his talents be never fo eminent, his difcourfes be never fo excellent and melting, his diligence and zeal in difcharging the duties of his function be never fo great ; yet with all this he will accomplifli but little ; it is likely he will effect not half fo much as another, who, with far meaner talents, difcourfes not near fo elegantly compofed and delivered, and exerting a far more moderate zeal and indullry, has a reputation for fmcerity and an exemplary conduct. And the cafe is juft the fame with us all, my friends, in whatever ftation we are placed. The better the opinion mankind entertain of us, the more eafdy and effeftually may we be ufeful to others, and promote the general welfare ; fo much the readier acceptance will our advice obtain ; fo much the deeper impreffion will our exhortations, admonitions and corrections, make j fo much the greater in- fluence THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. 299 fluence will our good example have. Let the man who has once loft his good name, who, for inftancc, has once been pronounced a bigot or a hypocrite, let him perform never fuch generous aftions ; let him never fo feelingly exhort to virtue and piety ; let him exhibit never fo much devotion, or meek- nefs, or moderation, in his words and deeds, whom will all this move ? Whom will it allure to imita- tion ? On the other hand, who does not account it his glory to follow him whom he him.felf efleems, and on whom a favourable judgment is paifed by the whole community ? So very much depends the fuccefs of our endeavours, of the beft ufe of our ca- pacities and powers, and the ability of doing as much good in the woild as we arc able, on the good or bad repute wherein we ftand! Hence, in fine, it arifes, that a good reputation may even contribute much to our moral improve- ment and perfection ; and that, on the contrary, the lofs of it often miileads a man into the grofieil pro- fligacy, into a completely immoral and difiblute condutl. This, my pious hearers, is a circumftance that deferves your utmoft attention, and fets the great value of a good reputation beyond all manner of doubt. If we know that we are generally allow- ed to poiTefs certain abilities, good qualities, and virtues ; that we are held incapable of any unjuft, or bafe, or fmifter actions ; that much good is faid of our underftanding and our heart; that we are ac- knowledged to be upright and eftimable members of fociety : 300 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION, foclety: what a ftrong incitement muft it be to exert thefe abilities and good qualities ; aftually to exercife thefe virtues; carefully to avoid thefe bad adions; to do honour to our underflanding and our heart ; and to preferve the efhimation wherein we ftand by an inoffenfive and a praife-worthy conduQ: 1 I am not ignorant, that he who is incited to goodnefs, and refrains from wh.,t is wTong, from thefe confiderations alone, does not yet deferve the name of a virtuous man ; we neither can, however, nor ought to be indifferent to the judgment of our fellow-creatures ; and when the concern for the prefervation of our good name is accompanied and fupported by fome more noble motives, it may very lavv'fully be a means of facilitating us in the difcharge of our duties, and fo, by rendering us more atten- tive to ail our difcourfes and aftions, promote our perfe£lion. At leaft, the v/rong is left undone, and the good is done j and the more frequently, even in views that are not of the very firfl quality, we omit the one and do the other, fo much in proportion mufl: our difpofition to the one be weakened, and our aptitud^e to the other be increafed, and fo much the more eafily fhall we be aded upon by the nobler in- citements to integrity and virtue. * On the other hand, is the good name once lofl ; then, with moft men, that is lofl which to them was the flrongeft prefervative from follies and fins. They had before abflained from many obliquities of condud to which they had fufficient inclination and appetite. THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION, 30I arpetite, for the fake of pfeferving the chara£ter of honed men, or of being refpeded by others ; they probably have done violence to themfelves j have performed many a juft, reafonable, beneficent, ge- nerous aftion, in dire£t oppofition to their own principles and propenfities ; have probably, at dif- ferent times, made a furrender of their private ad- vantage to the public benefit, for the pleafure arifing from fame ; they have, at loaft, avoided every thing that might be cffenfive to others and excite indigna- tion. At prefent, finding they have mifled of their aim, fince mankind refufe them what they had a right to pretend to as a compenfation for the vio- lence they did to themfelves ; fince they are judged and treated as if they had done juft the reverfe ; they now no longer keep any meafures, but wholly abandon themfelves to their propenfities and paffions. They at once give up all hope of maintaining the re- putation of honefl:, vv'orthy men, and ufeful citizens; concern themfelves no mpre therefore about their fcime ; defpife the cenfures of their fellow-beings j and never inquire any more whether an adion be offenfive or inoffenfive, laudable or fcandalous; and thus, by conftantly making farther advances in fol- lies and diforders, they are ever becoming more averfe to all good, and more incapable of it, till at length they fink into a fi:ate of Infenfibility and hardnefs of heart, that renders their amendment nearly impoflible. So much depends in this refped likewiTe on the prefer vation or the lofs of a good name J 302 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. name; and fo certain is it that the worth of it far exceeds that of riches and all other outward poffef- fions and advantages. And now what conclufion are we to draw from all this ? How ought we to frame our behaviour according to this truth, which we cannot deny ? It impofes a variety of important duties upon us j and I will wind up this difcourfe with a few words of exhortation to the obfervance of them. Is a good reputation of fo great a value ? Does it contribute fo much to the promotion of our wel- fare and pleafures ? Without it, can we, even with the beil intentions, neither duly exercife our gifts and abilities, nor be really ufefui to mankind ? Oh flrive then to your utmofl to preferve this precious jewel, you that are in poiTelTion of it ! Set a watch, in this refpeft, over all your words and adions, and feduloufly avoid every thing that may weaken the good opinion you hold in the minds of others. Sup- pofe not that this concern is unbecoming a virtuous and noble-minded man. It will be unbecoming if the defire of pleafmg be the great motive of your actions ; if you only regulate your behaviour, with- out regard to the rules of juflice and equity, by the judgment of other men ; or if you prize their efteem and their applaufe more than the approbation of your confcience and the favour of God. No, our firft quellion muft ever be, What is right ? What is good ? What is confident with my nature and the will of God ? What is my obligation as a man. THE VALUE OF A GOOD r.rPUTATlON. 303 man, as a chriftian, as a citizen, as a father of a fa- mily ? And, in determining thefe quellions, neither the approbation nor the cenfure of mankind muft be of any account whatever. We mull a6l by certain principles, and to thefe we mnft ever adhere. By this means, hovvever, we fliall Infallibly fecure to our- felves the efleem of the beft and worthiell: part of the community, and, in the generality of occafions, fhall obtain their approbation, without anxioufly fceldng it, or making it our principal aim. But, an aftion in regard to that falls under no particular law, that we may either perform or negleci, wherein we may proceed in this manner or in that ; if in that cafe we .direct our conduct fo as beft to conduce to the confirming of our good reputation : by fo doing, we not only are not chargeable with any criminal pafTion for fame ; we act not only with prudence, but in perfect confiitence with our duty, which enjoins us to do ever)- thing by which we may mediately become ufeful to others, or acquire a greater and furer influence on the advancement of the general good. A good name may be weakened and loft not only by the a£tual commiflion of evil, but even by the appearance of it j not only by unjuft and bafe, but even by innocent yet imprudent dif- courfes and adions. Abftain then from all appearances of evil, and walk, as the apoftle recommends, with clr- cumfpedion and prudence ; not as fools, but as wife. If, farther, a good reputation be fo highly valu- able, then imprint it deeply on your minds, that ycu cannot 304 THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION". cannot attack the good name of your neighbour, cr bring it by any means into contempt, without caufmg great harm to the whole fociety, and rendering your- felf guilty of the molt crying injuftice, and frequently of the uttermoft degree of inhumanity and cruelty. Rather rob your neighbour of his goods ; wound him in his perfon ; plunge him into poverty and in- digence ! You will generally hurt him Icfs, and do him a more fupportable injury, than by infamoufly depriving him of the efteem he poifeifes amongfl his fellow-beings. By this efteem he may repair the other wrongs you do him ; without it, as it fre- quently happens, neither opulence, nor flation, nor life itfelf, have any charms for him. Regard not, therefore, the reputation of your brother, be his condition in life what it may, as a matter of fport, as a fubjecl for merriment, on which we may boldly difplay our wit. Conflantly refled how eafily the good name of the inoffenfive may be injured, and how difficult it is to heal the wounds we give it. An ambiguous word, a myflerious look, an eloquent filence, a fneering fmile, a malicious but, is more than fufficient to make the moft unfavourable im- preffion of the charader or the condu£l of a perfon on the unthinldng, the credulous, or the malicious hearer, to occafion the mofl difadvantageous reports, or to undermine the credit of a harmlefs or deferving member of the community. Unhappily fuch a re- port may fo quickly fpread, the raifed fufpicion may fo rapidly gain confirmation, it may colled fo many circumltances *fHE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION. ^0^ clrcumftances together which render it credible, that It is often immediately no more in your power to repair the injulLiee you have done. In vain would you now recall your imprudent exprefiions ; in vain attem.pt to flur over the matter as a mifundei (landing, an inadvertent efcape, a jeft, or an infignificant Ipor- tive conceit; in vain will you evenim-plore forgivenefs of the injured man ! Pi-obabiy this alteration of your language or your behaviour will be attributed to fear, or to complaifance, or to felf-love, or to cer- tain private agreements or comproniifes fmce made; it will be long ere you can effect a perfLWulon that there was nothing at all in the m:atter, and probably it may require whole years before you can, even by the mod earnefl endeavours, be able to efface the imprefTion you have made upon others to the preju- dice of your rielghbour. And if, with all your pains, you are unable to do this ; — then have you, pro- bably for ever, deflroyed the peace of an innocent man ; fapped the foundation of his happinefs and of thofe that belong to him. ; rendered a ufeful member of civil fociety unprofitable or of I'ttie fcrvice ; you have probably deprived him of all heart to amend- ment had he been fo inclined ; and him, whom a concern for his good name retained within the bounds of moderation and honour, you have rendered alike indifferent both to honour aiid to fname. What a flagrant enormity ! IIow dreadful will it be to you in the hour of ferious refledion, or in your dying moments \ Can we then ever be too circumfped, VOL. II. X too o 06 THE- VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION* too confcientious, when we have to do with oar neighbour's fame ? Surely no ; the greater the va- lue, and the more irreparable the lofs of it, fo much the more facred fliould it be to us ; and fo much the more fhould we abftain from every thing that may leifen or impair it. Let us then bridle our tongue and keep a watch at the door of our lips, and banilh from our heart all envy, all hatred, all bitter- nefs and animofity againfl our brethren. Let us ab- hor and deteft not only manifefl lying and flander- ing, but likewife regard and avoid all bafe defamation, all hard and fevere judgments on our neighbour, as fms v/hich can by no means be made to confifl with the philanthrophy and the charader of a real chrif- tian. Let us put on the bowels of compaflion, friend- linefs, meeknefs, gentienefs and patience, as becomes the children of God and the difciples of Jefus j bear- ing and forgiving one another with the mofl cordial affection ; and fo aft with all men, and fo judge of every one, as we fhould defire, in fimilar circumftan- ces, that they would a£t by us and judge of our be- haviour. But, above all things, let us clothe om'- felves with love, which is the bond of perfection. SERMON XL. Of Converfton from a bad coiirfe of Lifd f^ GOD, we prefent ourfelves before thee this ^-^ day to acknowledge our fins and tranfgref- fions. We would not conceal them, we would not attempt to juftify ourfelves in thy fight ; we could not anfwer thee one of a thoufand. Notwithftanding all that thou haft done for us, mod merciful Father, to draw us to thee by making our duty a delight, we have yet refufed to obey thee, and have fwerved from thy commandments. Virtue and religion are not of fo much weight with us as they ought to be with the wife, with chriflians ; fenfuality, unbelief and doubt have weakened their refpe£l and rendered fome of us indiiferent towards them ; the world and its deceitful, fugacious pleafures too forcibly attra£t our inclinations and defires ; we are more bent upon X 2 gratifying 308 OF CONVERSION FROM gratifying our inordinate lulls and palTions than om rendering ourfelves worthy of the glorious name of chriilians. We are thy creatures ; but rebellious and guilty creatures : we prefume to call thee our Father ; but we are nioflly difobedient, ungratefuP children, who will not fubmit to thy chaflening hand, who offend thee in thought, in words, in deeds. Neither thy benefadions nor thy chaftifements have, been eifedtual to bring about thy gracious defigns upon us. Often have w"e vowed amendment ; but our vows yet remain unpaid.. Often havp we at- tempted to fet about the performance of our good refolves ; but they flill remain unperformed. O God, of what unfaithfulnefs, of what reiterated fins and tranfgreflions are we not guilty in thy fight ! Ye^ we confefs them, we bewail them, we are afhamed of them. Our own confciences condemn us. How then could we fubfiil before thee, wert thou to enter into judgment with us ; before thee,, who art a righteous judge, and of purer eyes than to behold iniquity ? Lo, as criminals worthy of death,, we proftrate ourfelves at the foot of thy throne. Spare us, o Lord, and be gracious unto us ! Remit the punilhment we deferve for our fins, and deliver us from the power and dominion of them. Thou defireil not the death of the finner, but that he fhould be converted and live ; thou rejedlefl not the prayer and fupplication of thofe who flee to thee for fuc- cour : thou haft fent thy fon into the world, that the^ world by him might be faved : let us alfo be partakers A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 309 partakers of his falvation, and, for his fake, forgive us all our tranfgreflions ! And th[\t we may no more have the misfortune to difpleafe thee, o God, grant us the afliftance of thy holy fpirit ! That it may operate and refide within us, diflipatc all our prejudices and errors, cleanfe and fandify all our inclinations. Do thou eradicate from our hearts whatever is difpleafmg to thee j refcue us from the violence of all bafe, inordinate lulls and paflions, let the fmcere, effedive defire, the earnefl endeavour to pleafe thee and to do thy will, govern the whole of our future behaviour. Remove from us, by thy wife and kind providence, all temptations and allurements to fm ; and, if we be tempted, grant that we may not fall under the temptation, but that, ftrengthened by thy fpirit, we may conquer all and perfevere to the end in our fidelity to thee. Hearken to our fupplications, o merciful God, for the fake of thy everlafling love, by Jefus Chrift, in whofe com- prehenfive words we conclude our prayers : Our father, &c. X3 310 OF CONVERSION FROM LUKE XV. 1 8, 19. I will arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him, Fathef^ . I have finned againfl heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy fon : make me as one of thy hired, fervants, TT would lead us too far from the particular ap-^. ^ pointment of this day, were we to enter upon a circumllantial invefligation of the prejudices and er- rors which furniilied our Saviour with an occafion for delivering the parable to which our text belongs. Let it fuffice in general to obferve, that Chrlfl: jufti- fies himfelf by it againfl the unjull accufatlons of the Scribes and Pharifees, who imputed it to him as a crime that he converfed with fmners, took a con- cern in their condition, and vouchfafed them his in- fl;ru£tion. And how could our Lord better refute the unfounded fufpicion of a criminal intercourfe with fmners which that accufation was intended to excite, and at the fame time more confound his ma- licious accufers, than by Ihewing them in feveral eafy, beautiful and aifeding parables, that nothing is in flrider conformky with found reafon, with the fenti- ments and conduO: of all mankind, than to be prin- cipally concerned about that which is loft, to take all pollible pains to recover it, and, when that objedt is A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 3II is attained, to rejoice more over it, than over what we have long quietly poflcfled ? Who muft not, judging impartially, naturally draw this conclufion, that it was by no means unbecoming in the Saviour of the world to concern himfelf about the informa* tion, the improvement and the confolation of fuch perfons as were utterly defpifed and negleded by their hypocritical teachers, though, as it appears, they were more fmcerely defirous of the falvation of God, than their haughty defpifers ? Was not Chrill fent into the world by God for the very purpofe of preaching to the wretched, of announcing good tid- ings to the meek, of binding up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and to feek that which was loll ? Was it not rather the fick and the infirm that were in need of a phyfician, than the really or imaginary healthy and (Irong ? This, my dear hearers, is the connexion wherein the Vv^ords of our text Hand with the purport to which they were delivered by our divine inflruftor. Let us now pro- ceed to make a more general application of them, by confidering the narrative of the forlorn fon as the fnnilitude of a penitent and converting fmner. This edifying parable contains three particulars extremely interefling. The firft comprehends what paffed previous to the return of the prodigal fon to his father. This will afford us an opportunity to fpeak of the motives to converfion, and of the pre- paratives to it. The fecond particular relates the actual rt;turn of the lofl fon to his father, and the X 4 manner 3^2 OF CONVERSION FROM manner and nature of it. This will teach us wherein true penitence and converfion properly confift. The third particular, laftly, reprefents to us the happy confequences of this converfion ; and this reprefen- tation will inform us of the various and great advan- tages of true penitence and converfion. O God, let us not receive this inftruclion in vain. Grant that we may attend to it with dili^^ence and with an unfeigned defire of falvation. We are thy ■children, but children that have rebelled againfl thee, their lord and father, that have foifaken thee, whofe loving-kindnefs is better than life, and thus rendered themfelves, without thy aid, undone. Ah grant that v/e may return to thee again, earneflly implore thy pardon, heartily apply to the performance of negle£led duties, and henceforth pay thee a grateful obe-* dience. " When he came to himfelf," fays the parable, " he faid, How many hired fervants of my father's have bread enough and to fpare, and I perifh with hunger. I will arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him. Father, I have fmned againft heaven, and before thee." This, my dear brethren, it was that incited the forlorn fon to his return ; and thefe or fipriilar fentiments and emotions are what awaken the finner to converfion, and prepare him for it. The loft fon firft becomes fenfible of his mifery. Till now he thought himfeif happy in having fhaken off the authority and withdrawn himfelf from the vigilance of his father. The unbounded freedom he A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 313 h^ enjoyed, the extravagant and diflblute life he led, the tumultuous pleafures he met with on all hands, flattered his appetites. ,They beguiled his foul ; they concealed futurity from his view, and he thought he had no reafon to repent of his fenfelefs choice. But now having run through all his means, fallen into the extremes of poverty and contempt, obliged to put up with the vilefl fi^rvitude, and to content himfclf with the ccarfefl fare, and with all fcarcely able to fupport his life : he wakes from his wretched delufion. The intoxicating vifions of plea- fure and happinefs by which he has been hitherto deluded, are now vanifhed away. He finds himfelf cheated in his expeftations. He can no longer con- ceal his wi'etchednefs from himfelf. He feverely feels the deplorable confequences of his foolifh con- dud ; he groans under the burden of it ; and thefe painful fenfations compel him to think ferioufly on freeing himfelf from them. Juft fo it is with the man that awakes from the le- thargy of vice. He proceeds for a long time fecure and carelefs in his wicked ways, breaks every tie of religion and virtue, refufes due obedience to his Crea- tor and Lord, and takes that for freedom which is in fa6l the hardeft and mofl infamous bondage. The fmful appetites which he bhndly follows, captivate him with their deceitful charms ; they promife him a round of pleafures and joy ; and he fondly imagines he has found out the way that leads to true felicity. The violent calls of paffion ftifle the voice of reafon and 314 <5P CONVERSION FROM and confclence ; the affairs and dilTipatlons of this world guard the entrance to his foul againfl all fedate refledion, and, like a man intoxicated with the fumes of drink, fees not the danger that awaits him. But when the poifon of fm has had its effed ; when dif- quiet, vexation, and difguft, take place of pleafure ; when pain and ficknefs, or other adverfe events, fti- jiiulate him, as it were, to reflect on himfelf and his moral condition ; when the lofs of his property, the fudden death of his friend, the unexpected failure of his plans, or other ftriking occurrences fill him with difmay ; when the light of truth, in this fufpenfion of the paffions, in this filence of the heart, darts upon his mind, and the darknefs of prejudice and error, which had hitherto blinded him, is difpelled : he then begins to underiland the deceitfulnefs of fm, then its fafcinating charms are diiTipated before him. It appears to him in all its deformity, as ghaftly and deteftable as it really is ; and he is feized with the utmoit aftonifhment that he could ever be impofed on by fuch empty impoflures. He now feels the de- grading, the cruel fliackles by which he is bound, and fees that he, who thought himfelf erewhile fo free, is in fa£l the moft wretched of flaves. He now taftes the bitternefs of the fruits of lin, and experien- ces what forrow and anguifh of heart it occafions when a man forf^kes the Lord his God, and efteems any thing but him as his fovereign good. His falfe- repofe is now conle to an end ; his fecurity makes way for trouble and affright j his foolifh hopes are vaniflied } A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 315 vanlihed ; his confcience goads and condemns him. He now fliudders at the danger he before derided vv'ith arrogant fcorn ; he feels the manifold mifery he has brought on himfelf by his fms, and the dif- order that prevails in his foul ; he confelTes that no- thing can render him more deplorably wretched than he is ; and this confeiTion begets in him an carneft defire to be delivered and happy. But to make this acknowledgment elieclive, and thefe defires wholefom.e, he mufl now faithfully fol- low the light that has dawned upon him. He mufl carefully cherifli the good emotions that have fuc- ceeded to his infenfibility, and apply himfelf to fuch confiderations as may move him to adopt firm and un- changeable refolutions. The poor unhappy youth in the parable was not only fenfible to his mifery, but he compared his forlorn condition with the va- rious and great advantages which he might have en- joyed in the houfe of his father. " How many hired fervants," fays he, " of my father, have bread enough and to fpare, and I perifh with hunger !" If he had gone thoughtlefsly on before, he now reflects with the greatefl concern on the pafc, the prefent, and the future. How happy, thought he, how happy I formerly was, when I lived in my father's houfe, and under his infpection, when I was che- riflied by his complacency, and nurtured by. his care! How tender was his affeftion for me ! How active &nd unwearied his zeal for promoting my welfare! What would have been wanting to my happinefs, had 3l6 OF CONVERSION FROM had I but known how to prize and employ my ad- vantages ! How tranquil, how fecurely, how con- tentedly, could I have pad my days, had I but been prudent ! Difmal refieftion ! How fadly are my circumftances altered ! How low am I fallen ! The purfuit of imaginary freedom has made me a Have; my contempt for paternal authority has fubjeded me to the dominion of a ftrange and fevere contrcul ; my difcontentednefs with what I had has brouo-ht me to O the extremefl diftrefs. And what dreadful profpects lie before me ! Soon mufl I periili with hunger. Death approaches me with hafly ftrides ; and I per- ceive him in his mofl dreadful form. Yet I ftill live ; all hope of deliverance is net yet extinft. I flill difcern a little efcape before me, by which I may perhaps avoid my ruin. Have I not a father ; and is not a father endowed with indulQ:ence and com- o pallion ? Had I not better try all things, than give myfelf up to defpondency, or fmk into comfortlefs defpair ? So thought the loft: young m.an ; and fo the re- pentant fmner thinks, who is in earneft, and anxious about his falvation. What a bleffing, fays he to himfelf, have I voluntarily rejefted by my fins and my follies ! Happy had it been for me, if I had hearkened to the voice of God and of my confcience, if I had obferved their aifedionate admonitions and fuggeftions, if I had retained my innocence, and re- mained faithful to my duty ! How rational, how equitable, how reafonable are all the commands of God, A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 317 God, and how happy would the obfervlng of them have made me i The ineflimable favour of the Su- preme Being, peace of mind, contentment of fpirit, the confcioufnefs of my integrity, the efleem and love of all the good, the certain hope of everlafting hap- pinefs, would have delighted all my days ; they would have fweetened the cup of life, and have alle- viated the burden of its cares ; they would have flied divine tranfport upon my foul. Under the protec- tion of my heavenly Father I fliould have dwelt i» fafety ; and in the fhadow of his wings have had no want or misfortune to fear. And thefe bleffings o have I facriiiced to the fallacious pleafures of fin ! I have fliaken off the m.ild authority of my creator and benefactor, and am now Under the cruel fway of the mofl fhameful and the mofl corrupt defires. All tlie povt'ers of my mind are debilitated ; diforder and contradiction dlilurb my foul ; wickednefs Is become, as It were, a fecond nature to me ; and I feel myfelf too weak to enter the lids againft: it, and recover the freedom I have loft. God has hid his gracious countenance from me. I have brought upon myfelf his terrible difpleafure, and live at a mofl deplorable dlftance from him. And what will become of me if death overtake me in this condition, if I am cited to appear In this fad condition before the judge of the living and the dead ? How can I fupport his look ? How can I Hand before him, the Omnifcient ! With what excufes can I palliate my premeditated and fo often ^iS OF CONVERSION FROM often repeated violations of his law, or extenuate my ingratitude and my defeftion ! What a fevere but righteous condemnation have I to dread ! How hor- rible will be my portion for eternity ! Oh that I had never finned I Oh that I had never forfaken my Father and my Redeemer ; never call off" the fear of God ! Who vv'ill now redeem me from this mifery ! Where fliall I find help and deliverance ! — But, continues the contrite fmner, is there then no precious gleam of hope, no ray of comfort, to my amazed foul ? Is no remedy at hand to refcue me from deferved condemnation, for fliil becoming- happy ? Oh, I have read that the Lord is gra- cious, long-fuffering, and plenteous in mercy ; that he will not defpife the broken and contrite heart ; that fuch as return to him he will in no wife call out j that he will gracioufly look to him that is poor and of a contrite fpirit, and trembles at his word. I have read that he fent his fon to be the faviour of men ; and that all who trult in him, and follow his facred precepts, he will again receive as his children? Perhaps then he will have compaflion on me, and give me grace for juftice, if 1 humble myfelf before him, and turn to him with my whole heart. No, my mifery is too great ! The danger I am in is too imminent, to allow me room to hope that any thing can fnatch me from it. Sucli are the agitations and fears of the returning finner ; till, his fpirit worn out with woe, his eyes 2 dilfolved A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 31^ diffolved In tears, ?.nd .his heart all rent with com- pundion, he takes up the refolution which wc may confider as the third flac;e of his converrion. " I will arife," fays the contrite youth, " and go to my father, and will fay unto him, Father, I have fmned againft heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy fon ; make me as one of thy hired fervants.'* I will immediately enibr?.ce the only means ftill left me to employ, for avoiding utter ruin, before it be too late and all repentance be in vain. I will exert the little ftrength I have re- maining, to haften from the abyfs that lies open be- fore me. The fmalleft delay may be fatal to me. To regain my loft contentment fhall from this inftant be my fole concern ; and nothing Ihall be too hard for me to undertake that can favour my defign. Let the fhame and confufion be as great as it may, into which the confcloufnefs of my follies and the fight of my injured father will throw me ; let the re- proaches I have to exped from him be as cutting as they will to my vanity and pride ; coft what labour and felf-denial it may at firft to renounce my wicked habits, and to fatisfy my fo long neglefted duties : nothing fhall prevent me from returning to him whom I have fo fenfelefsly forfaken, and alkmg fuc- cour of him who alone is difpofed and able to help mc. I will go and throw myfelf at his feet ; I will prevent his reproaches by an humble and frank con- fefTion of my tranfgrefTions and failings ; and, inftead of thinking on evafion or excufe, will condemn my- felf. $,io OF CONVERSION FROM felf, and cafl myfelf entirely on his mercy. It is no^ an auftere, an inexorable mafter ; it is a compaflion" tite and tender father with whom I have to dow What has not a fon to hope for from fuch a father ? Yes, his own heart will fpeak pity for me, he will fliew mercy towards me ; and this fhall be my in- ducement to teflify my gratitude to him by a willing and faithful obedience, and to render myfelf worthy of his favour by a total alteration of my fentiments and my condud. The repentant fmner takes up the fame refolutlons.- He trufls not to a deceitful and inefficient forrow. He is not contented witl| making bitter lamentations on his wretched condition, or barely wifliing to be- com.e better, without putting his hand to the work. He walles not, his time in ufelefs doubt or in danger- ous hefitation. My life, fays he, is paffmg quickly away ; it may unexpedlcdly come to an end. Death, judgment, and eternity, are ever advancing towards me ; they may feize me at unawares. Shall not I tlien haften to deliver mv foul ? Shall I not work while it is day, ere the night come when no man can work ? There is but one way left to avoid perdi- tion. Shall I hefitate one moment about betaking myfelf to it ? IJfe and death, blelTmg and curfmg, are now before me. Still I have an opportunity of chufmg between them. Vv^ho can tell whether that will continue to me if I Hand longer doubting ? Is it difncult for me now to fubdue my fmful dcfires, to quit my bad habits, break with my bad compa- nions^ A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 3^1 hions, and reform my diiTolute life : will it not every day become (lill harder ? Will not my fervitude be growing conftantly more fevere, my propenfity to vice more ftrong, my foul more corrupt, and con- fequently my amendment ftill more impracticable ? Shall I not by thefe means be heaping fin upon fm, and punifliment upon punifhment, and fo at length deprive myfelf of all hope of forgivenefs ? No ! to- day, that I hear the voice of God, while his grace is yet offered to me, to-day will I follow his affec- tionate call, and earneftly implore that divine com- paflion which alone can make me happy. My re- folution is taken, and nothing fliall hinder me from bringing it to effe£t. I will arife and go to my hea- venly Father, from whom I am now at fo great a diftance, whofe favour and protection I have fo madly caft off. I will bow myfelf before his of- fended majefty, acknowledge my tranfgreffions, and intreat his compaiTion with a broken and a contrite heart. I will folemnly renounce every fm, and de- vote myfelf to the fervice of God and the practice of virtue. Have I hitherto fhaken off his juft and gentle authority ; it Ihall now be my greatefl delight and my glory to pay him an unreferved obedience, and faithfully to fulfil the duties of a fubjecl in his kingdom. Have I hitherto directed my life by my Irregular defires and the corrupted principles of the men of the world ; henceforward the law of the Moft High fhall be the fole and unalterable rule of iny condird:. Have I hitherto provided only for my VOL. II. Y body 3-2 OF CONVERSION FROM body and my earthly condition ; henceforward, the care of my foul, and my happinefs in the future world, Ihall be the ultimate aim of all my endea- vours. The fupport which God has promifed to the fnicere will be mighty in my weaknefs. He will affifl m.e in conquering every difficulty ; and I trull affuredly that I (liali find his yoke to be eafy, and his burden hght ; that I {liall experience that his com- mandments are not giievous. If the refolutlons of the repentant fmner be thus formed ; if they be grounded on felf-infpe^lion, on confideration and fiiTn conviction ; if they be taken ■with ferioufnefs and fmcerity ; then will they cer- tainly be brought to effeft. The loft: fon fufFered himfelf not to be turned afide from his purpofe. He immediately began to put it in execution. He arofe and came to his father, and faid unto him, " Father, I have fmned againll heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy fon." I have outrageoufly oftended both God and thee ; I have rendered myfclf utterly unworthy of thy parental love. Thus did he humble himfelf before his father. He acknowledged his pall offences, and fought no fubterfuges, no extenuations of his guilt, but con- feued them for what they really were. He owned that he had forfeited all pretenfions to the privileges he had before enjoyed in his father's houfe. He manifefted a fmcere remorfe at his enormities, and petitioned for grace and pardon. He fubmitted him- felf anev/ to the difcipline and authority of his father, promifed A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 323 promifed frefli obedience to all his commands, and returned efFeftively to his duty. And in this particu- lar confifts the true repentance and converfion which God requires from man. He muft confcfs the mul- titude, the greatnefs, the enormity of his fins ; and, inftead of thinking on his juflification, mufl difplay in the moft fubmiffive humility all the circumftances that render his guilt mod deteflable. In the utmoft dejedion of foul he mufl cafl himfelf down before his fovereign judge, addrefs himfelf to his juflice, and acknowledge that he has defer ved nothing but difpleafure and indignation, death and condemnation. He muft confefs his tranfgreftions to the Lord, and give himfelf up to the fliame and confufion which the fight of them produces in him. It muft be a fenfible afiiiftion to him, that he has thus offended fo good, fo gracious, fo amiable a being j that he has affi^onted his creator, his father and be- nefador ; that he has tranfgrefled fuch righteous, fuch wife, fuch reafonable laws ; that he has coun- teracted the great end of his exiftence, fo perverted and degraded his nature, and fo far negkcled the purpofes for which God created him. Thefe con- fiderations muft fill him v/ith unfeigned and painful remorfe at his fins. They muft incite him to take refuge in the mercy of God, and to implore his grace and pardon. They muft infpire him with a deep abhorrence of all iniquity, a mortal averfion to vice. They muft ftrengthen him in the refolution of quit- ting the fervice of fin, and of living to righteoufnefs; Y 2 and 324 OF CONVERSION FROM and to the execution of this purpofe he mufl now fet immediately and earneftly to work. He muft cffedually ceafe to do evil, and ftudy to do good. He mufl fettle his condu(St on quite other principles and rules ; or, in the figurative language of the fcrip- tures, become a new creature. Nothing now mull be of fo much confequence to him, as to combat tlie unruly appetites and paffions that have hitherto had the dominion over him, to fulfil the duties he has hitherto neglefted, and to exercife himfelf in all the virtues, though never fo much againfl his corrupt propenfities and his worldly advantages. This, my brethren, this is the eifential article of converfion, without which all previous fentiments and practices of repentance will be utterly vain. The unjufl man mufl reflore the property he obtained by unlawful means to Its rightful owner ; the unchafle, the adul- terer, mufl burfl the chains with which his lufls have bound him, mortify his defires, and cleanfe himfelf from, every defilement of flefli and fpirit ; the avari- cious man mufl alter his terreflrial difpofition, mufl learn to regard the treafures of the earth with a ge- nerous difdain, and diredl his thoughts, his wifhes, and defires to invifible things ; the haughty mufl be- come humble, the rancorous gentle and forgiving, and the worldly become heavenly-minded. Thus ' mufl every one abandon the perverfe ways he has hitherto walked,' forfake the vices and fins he has hitherto ferved, avoid all inducements and oppor- tunities to them, and flrive after holinefs in the fear of A BAD COURSE OP LIFE. ^25 cf God. That is what God, by the prophet required of his people. " Wafh ye," fays he, " make you clean ; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes ; ceafe to do evil, learn to do well, feek judgment, relieve the oppreffed, judge the fatherlefs, plead for the widow. Then come, and let us reafon together, faith the Lord : though your fms be as fcarlet, they fhall be white as fnow ; though they be red like crimfon, they fhall be as wool." Yes, when our converfion is thus effedied, when it brings forth the fruits of amendment and righteoufnefs ; then may we promife ourfelves the greatefl benefits from it. We learn from the parable, that the ready return of the prodigal fon was productive of the mod happy effeds. He found himfelf not difappointed in his hopes. On the contrary, the kind reception his fa- ther gave him far furpalfed his raofl fanguine expec- tations. No fooner did this tender parent defcry his fon, " w^hile he was yet a great way off, but he was moved with compafTion towards him. He ran to meet him, fell on his neck, and kiffed him." He forgot all his failings and tranfgreflions. He Imme- diately provided for all his wants. He reftored him to his forfeited right of filiation, {hewed him the mofl pofitive marks of his paternal clemency and love, and his heart overflowed with- the liveliefl em.otions of latisfadion and joy. — " Like as a father pitieth his children, fo the Lord pitieth them that fear him. He is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, y 3 and 326 OF CONVERSION FROM and faveth fuch as be of a contrite fpirit. Though he dwell in the high and holy place, yet with him alfo that is of a contrite and humble fpirit, to revive the fpirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite. He looketh on him that is poor and of a contrite fpirit, and that trembleth at his word. He is inclined to pity and to fpare. He hath no plea- fure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live." " Is not Ephraim my dear fon," fays God to his people, " is he not a pleafant child ? Since I fpake againft him I remem- ber him ftiil j therefore my bowels are troubled for him ; I Vv'ill furely have mercy upon him, faith the Lord." As foon as the linner draws nigh unto God with a truly repentant heart ; as foon as he forfakes his fmful courfes, and turns himfelf wholly to him ; fo foon does God alfo gracioufly turn towards him. He forgives him his fins, he remits the evil confe- quences of them, he takes them again into favour, and imparts to him, as his fon, the free enjoyment of the goods of his houfe. And how manifold, how great, are the benefits and bleffings this happy altera- tion procures to the convert ! His guilt is effaced, his fins are done av/ay, his iniquities are pardoned, and will be remembered no more. His confcience is reftored to peace. God vouchfafes him his compla- cency. Accefs to the throne of grace is open to him, and there he may and will find help and com- fort fo often as they are needful to him. The inha- bitants of heaven rejoice at his converfion ; they rejoice A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 327 rejoice at having in him a new iliarer in their blifs. Heaven is now no longer fhut to him. Death and the grave have laid by their terrors for him. t'utu- rity is no longer dreadful to him. It fhews him the immarceffible crown of glory in the hand of his re- conciled judge. It promifes him a felicity which no mortal eye has feen, which no ear has heard, and which is above the conceptions of the human mind. It affures him of the plenitude of joy and an eter- • nity of blifsful exiftence at the right hand of God. In the mean time, till his glorious hopes be fulfilled, the convert lives more fecurely, as he lives in inno- cence* Peace and contentment accompany him, fince he has God for his protector and friend, and is confcious of the reditude of his heart. His moral corruption will daily decline, and every victory he gains over it gives him frefh caufe to extol the grace of his Redeemer, and to feel the value of his re- gained freedom. His ability to goodnefs is ever in- crealing, and the practice of it grows daily more eafy •and pleafant. He advances from one degree of per- fection to another ; his habits of virtue will be con- tinually improving ; and with his virtue, his plea- fares and his hopes increafe. Happy fituationl Ineftimable advantage ! Who would not take all poffible pains to obtain it ! Who would delay one moment to enter upon the way of repentance and converfion, which alone conducts us to the pofTeflion of this felicity ! May we, my brethren, readily and Y4 in 328 OF CONVERSION FROM in folemn earneftnefs refolve upon it. May we all put this refolve into immediate execution, and from this inilant walk the path of virtue and piety with perfevering fidelity. How blefled will then this day be to us ! In what tranquil delight will the reft of our lives flow on ! How fedately may we fee our diffolution approaching ! How confidently may we expeft the glorious recompences that are prepared for the righteous in heaven ! Every thing calls us to hearken to the voice of God, fo afFeftionately inviting us to repentance and amendment. We yet live to hear this voice ; but how long it may be allowed us, none of us can tell. Woe to us if we put olF from day to day, till it be too late to devote ourfelves obediently to it ! Only with him, only in his fervice and in compliance with his commands, are light and life and joy and felicity to be found ; remote from him, darknefs and bond- age, mifery and death, are our only portion. Mei- ciful father, into what perils has not fin beguiled us I We hafle to efcape from them, and to feek grace and help from thee who alone canft help and fave. Lo, we return to thee, unworthy to be called thy fons, but firmly refolved by a better conduft to ren^ der ourfelves deferving of that glorious name. We are thine, o Lord, thine by creation, and thine by redemption. We will give ourfelves up to thee as our only proprietor. Thee will we only and con- ftantly obey. In thee will we feek our whole felicity. Oh A BAD COURSE OF LIFE. 329 Oh do thou fupply our weaknefs ; keep us by thy mighty arm from faUing back into Cm ; grant us to advance in goodneis, give us to overcome the world, ^nd by thy fupport to perfevere unto the end, Preached on a Tajl-day, SERMON XLI. The Blejfedncjs of Beneficence. GOD, who art all benignity and love, who art always more ready to blefs than to punifh, and difplayefl thy infinite greatnefs by infinite bounty; daily and hourly openeil thou thy liberal hand and filled all things living with plenteoufiiefs. Daily and hourly giveft thou to us frefh proofs that thy mercy is over all thy works ; that thou loveil us with parental tendernefs ; that as a father thou pro- videfl for us and our real welfare. Lord, with ad- miration and humility we adore the riches of thy grace and love ; we rejoice in the multitude and the exceeding value of the unmerited gifts of thy bounty ; we are ready to render thee the thanks for them which thou requireft of us. Thou required, as a proof of our acknowledgment, that we fliould be kind, companionate, charitable and bountiful, like 5 thee J THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 33I thee; that we fliould be followers of thee as dear children ; that we fliould fliare, as it were, with thee, the bleflednefs of beneficijnce. To obey thee, o God, is our glory and our happinefs. Thy com- mands are life and peace to all tliat keep them. Ah let us ever confcfs it, and ever willingly be faithful to that confefilon. Do thou eradicate all feeds of avarice, of felfifhnefs, of obduracy and cruelty from our hearts ; aiid fill them with the gentle, compaf- fionate, affeclionate, officious and difrntereiled difpo- fitions which alone can render us worthy to be called thy children and difciples of thy fon. Blefs, in tliis view, the leffons we are now to receive from thy word, and let the efficacy of them be manifefl in abundant fruits of chridian beneficence. Thou Fa- ther of an infinite majefty, let thefe our fupplications find acceptance with thee, for the fake of Jefus Chrift, thy honourable, true and only fon, our mediator and redeemer, in obedience to whofe exprefs command we addrefs thee thus : Our father, &c. ^^2 THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE^ ACTS XX. ^^, It is more blcfTed to give than to receiv?. ''I \HERE are times and circumftances, when we, -^ your minifters, afcend this place with heavy hearts, as having but little hope of the defired fuc- cefs in delivering to you the word of truth, and of reaping much fruit from our labour. This happens whenever our office, and a zeal for your real wel- fare, require us to lay before you your fms and fail- ings, and among them fuch particularly as are the moft rife amongft us, which are the leaft condemned by the world, and in behalf whereof felf-love, pride, cuftom, and fafhion, have invented the mofl ex- cufes, and the mufl plaufible palliations. It hap- pens whenever we have to deliver to you fuch doc- trines and precepts as are manifeflly at variance with the prejudices of the times in which we live, with the prevailing manner of thinking and acting ; and of fuch doQrincs and precepts chriftianity, which derives its origin from heaven, and is ordained to condud us thither, comprifes not a few. It happens cfpecially whenever we labour to infpire you with the humble, the gentle, the compaffionate, the hea- venly difpofitions, which are the diilindive charac- teriftics THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 333 teriftlcs of the difclples of Jefus, and which yet arc fo rarely found among thofe who call themfelves his difciples. In thefe and the like cafes, we are tempted at times to defpondency, as having but little hope of reaching the aim of our exertions. And whence does this proceed ? Our own fad experience but too ftrikingly informs us, how much the corrupted heart, and the unruly paffions of men, oppofe thefe doctrines and precepts ; and how quickly the good imprefllons, they may occafionally make upon us irt the houfe of the Lord, are obliterated in the tumult of the world. But there are likewife other times, my beloved, when with bold and chearful fpirits we appear before you, becaiife animated with the pleafmg expectation, that we fhall effeCl our good defigns, if not with all, yet certainly with many. In fuch a frame of mind, in fuch delightful hopes, I meet you in this facred place to-day. I am to be the advocate, the intercef- for, with you, for the poor, the friendlefs, and the wretched : I fhall apply to you in their name ; in their name did I fay, I fliall apply to you in the name of Jefus Chrift, who owns thefe needy for his bre- thren, and in the mofl forcible manner recommends them to you, in the name of that exalted and bene- ficent Lord, our unalterable Saviour, I fliall inter- cede with you in their behalf. I fliall in particular recommend to you the encouragement of "a very neceffary and ufeful inflitution ; I mean, the proviiion now fet on foot for the corredion of the diifolute, and the 334 I'HE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. the maintenance of the poor in this place : certainly a generous and agreeable employment ! Happy fhall I be, happy will it be for you, if I execute it with that fuccefs I promife myfelf from your chriftian tender- nefs I Nay, I know that there are many compaflion- ate hearts among you, to whom difcipline and order, religion and virtue, and the happinefs of mankind that is founded upon them, are no indifferent things. I have on fmiilar occafions addreiTed you with fimi- lar petitions ; and, to the honour of your chriftian profeffion, you have not been regardlefs of them/ Why then may I not hope, under the bleffing of the Almighty, to reach my defign to-day ? In the mean time, though 1 prefume upon thefe beneficent and generous difpofitions in the generality of you, it will not be ufelefs to employ the remainder of the time ufually allotted to thefe difcourfes in endeavouring to confirm them in our hearts, and to awaken them in thofe with Vv'^hom they are ftill dormant. And how can we better do this, than by calling to mind the blefiednefs of beneficence ? To this end the confideration of the beautiful faying of our Saviour in the text may greatly conduce : " It is more blefled to give than to receive." We will firft flate to you the juO:ncfs of the aifertion, and then reply to fome objeSions that may be brought againft it. It is m.ore bleffsd to give than to receive, is now become, as it were, proverbial among chriftians-; fo little is the truth of it in general called in quefiion. Is it not then, may fome one probably think, is it not THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 33^ not unneceflary to deinonftrate a propofition which every one holds for proved and undeniable ? No, my friend, that is by nc means the cafe with fuch general propofitions and rules of condutl. In order that they fliould have a due influence on our be- haviour, and on that every thing depends, it is not enough that the truth of them is not doubted, the reafons fliould be often and forcibly flated why they are held to be true ; we fliould examine the parti- cular ideas they comprehend, or the obfervations and experiences whereon they reftj we fhould bring home the application of them to ourfelves ; we fliould view them in a various and penpicuous light, if we would be convinced, affefted, animated by them. And this is the purport of my following confiderations. It is more bleffed to give than to receive; fmce the former, in the firft place, implies a happier condition than the latter. To the former belonsrs a certain o degree of power, of affluence, of independence; the latter has weaknefs, want, penury, dependence, for its foundation. I will not fav, that a man mav not be happy in all flations. No, fear God ; keep his commandments ; maintain a good confciencc ; fecure yourfelf of the grace and loving-kindnefs of the Almighty; follow temperance and keep content; think and Hve like perfons who have here no abid- ing city, and whofe country is heaven : fo will you never be deficient in true felicity, be you otherwife high or low, rich or poor, in abundance or in want. But 33^ THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE* But certain as this is, fo certain is it likewife, that he is ftill the happier who, with all thefe eflential advantages, has ahb the means of doing good to others in a larger or fmaller proportion. In what does the fupreme felicity of God confifl ? Un- doubtedly in this, that his power of doing good is infinite, and that he continually exerts it in the bed and moll perfect manner. Undoubtedly in this, that, from hisexaUed throne, full flre^ms of benefits and bleliings inceflantly flow on every part of his im- menfe domain, devolving light and life, joy, energy and blifs, on all the inhabitants of it. Wherein confifls the happinefs of the righteous in the future world ? An enlarged capacity of doing good and of communicating with others in the moil ufeful manner, will undoubtedly compofe a confiderable portion of it. Here it not unfrequently happens, that men of the moft humane, the mod benevolent, the moft patriotic fentimicnts, are deflitute of almofl all the means for ading in conformity to them; and, if they had lefs veneration for the difpenfations of divine providence, would probably be often tempted to complain of the nan-ow limits that are prefcribed them in thefe particulars. Yonder, in that better world, all thefe limitations will not indeed be re- moved; they, however, will be confiderably en* larged. There will thefe generous fpirits unimped- edly purfue their beneficent mclinations, and be able to apply in a far vvorthier manner all 'their faculties to the benefit of their lefs perfect fellow-creatures. As *rHE BlESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 337 As having been faithful in the adminiftration of the little that was entrufted to them, they wHl be ap- pointed to the management of much. They will reign with Chrift, and fiiare in his glory, his power of doing good. The more therefore a man can dif- penfe here on earth about him in any refpeQ: to the benefit of his brethren ; the more ferviceable he can be to them ; the lefs need he has to fct bounds to his genernfity ; the greater means he has of encreaf- ing the worldly or the fpiritual, the temporal or the eternal welfare of his neighbour, and of diffufmg comfort, fatisfa6l:ion and joy around him : fo much the nearer does he bring his condition to that of the blefled in heaven ; fo much more refplendent in him is the image of God and Chrift ; nay, fo much the greater part has he even in the felicity of the firfl and mod perfe£l of beings. It is more bleffcd to give than to receive ; the for- mer being, fecondly, combined with a various, with a truly godlike pleafure, whereas the latter is com- monly conne£led with unpleafant and painful fenfa- tions. How extremely grating is it not often, even to the humbleft of thofe who fuffer penuiy and in- digence, how diftrefling is it not to them to make known their penury and their indigence, to aft: for fuccour and relief, and thus to expofe themfelves to the riik of harfli cenfures, of cutting reproaches, of bitter feoffs, and at length to a iharp refufal of all pity and afliilance ! What wretchednefs, w^hat mi- fery, therefore, do they not often prefer to fuch VOL. II. z dreadful 338 THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. dreadful fituations as thefe, which opprefs their fouls, and fill them with grief and difmay ! Never forget this, ye whom God has blelTed with earthly goods, and thereby conftituted you, as it were, the guardians and fathers of the poor and needy. Ren- der not the load that already opprefTes them ftitl heavier by your unfriendly and cruel- behaviour. They are already enough to be pitied, that they are obliged to be dependent on you, who are men as well as they. Oh let them not feel this dependence in a manner injurious to human nature, and offen- five to their creator ! Beware that at the very time when you are granting the fuccours they implore, you degrade and infult them ; and attach not your benefa£lions to fuch conditions as deprive them of all their value. Though they be benefadions in re- gard to thofe to whom you fhew them ; they are not fo in regard to God, who has impofed them as a duty upon you. Though your necelTitous bre- thren cannot demand them of you as their due, yet God, from whom you have received whatever you polTefs, has a right to demand them of you, and he actually does demand them. But the mere ad alone cannot fatisfy him, the Omnifcient, only the man- ner in which you perform it can procure you his ap- probation. Give therefore freely ; give liberally ; give in pure and good intentions j give in a generous and engaging manner; give as one fnend gives to another, as a father gives to his children : then, and not till then, will you tafte the pleafure which is con- TH£ BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 3^9 conneiEled \vith fuch bounty. And how diverfified, how great, how fublime, is not that pleafure ! You know it J, chrifllans, you who exercife yourfelves in beneficence with genuine chriftian fentiments ; you know what your hearts enjoy, what pure and hea- venly tranfports pervade them, when you weep with them that weep, and are fo happy as to dry up the tears of the mourner ; when you can take the for- faken to your care, and can adminifler help to the deftitute ; when you have an opportunity to refcue the innocent, to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirfly, to alleviate the diftrefles of the poor, to mitigate the pains of the fick and to afluage the an- guifh of the afflicted foul ; when you can compen- fate as much as in you lies, the widow for the lofs of her fpoufe, and the orphan for the privation of his parents ; when you convey fome rays of light, of comfort, of hope, of fatisfaction, into the abodes where darkncfs, difmay and wretchednefs, prevailed. You recollect the feelings of your heart, what dreams of pure and facred tranfports filled it, when you have been able to contribute fomewhat to the ad- vancement of difcipline and order, of the glory of God and of religion, to the inftruclion, to the im- provement, to the correction, to the fpiritual and everlafting happinefs of your brethren ; and theik formed an idea of the blefled confequences thefe labours of love might have, and, under the blefling of the Moft High, infallibly will have, in all the ge- nerations to come. Oh then it was you truly felt z a the 340 THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. the exquifite worth of the earthly goods wherewith God has bleffed you ; then you thanked him with tears of joy for the honour and happinefs of being permitted, as it were, to occupy his place among mankind, and in his flead to revive them with what his providence has been pleafed to grant you ; then your heart expanded, and could fcarcely con- tain the heavenly delight that rufhed into it. Where, where is there an earthly, fenfual pleafure to be found, that can be brought into comparifon with this ! It is, laftly, more bleffed to give than to receive ; it having, when properly performed, the moft glo- rious retributions to expeO: both in the prefent and in the future world. Already the pleafure that is conneded with it, and which I have now rather pointed at than defcribed, fince it admits of no defcription ; this pleafure alone, to a fenfible and generous heart, is reward enough. But the merci- ful God, to whom beneficence is fo highly grateful, has decreed it flill greater advantages and bleffings. Hear how the Pfalmiil defcribes them : " Unto the upright," fays he, peculiarly to the humane and boun- tiful, " there arifeth light in the darknefs ! he is merciful, loving and righteous : the Almighty com- fiprts him in his afflidions, and delivers him out of them all." " Happy the man who pitieth and lendeth, and guideth his words with difcretion ; for he (hall never be moved : the righteous fhall be had In everlafting remembrance. He will not be afraid at 3 any THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE, 34I any evil tidings, for his heart flanJeth faft and trufteth in the Lord. His heart is llablifhed, and will not flirink. He hath difperfed abroad and given to the poor : his righteoufnefs remaineth for ever ;" the blefiing of his beneficence abides ever upon him ; " his welfare fliall be exalted with ho- nour.'* And all this, my friends, is but little in comparifon with the glorious rewards which the bountiful man may promife himfelf in the future world. ^ Reprefent to yourfelves that awful day, the day of judgment and of retribution vihich (hall de- cide our lot for ever; and admire the glory and feli- city that will then be the portion of chriflians who hatvehere employed themfelves in a£ls of beneficence. The judge of the world, the fon of God, will fay to them, before the whole aflembly of angels and of mankind : " Come, ye blefl'ed of my Father, in- herit the kingdom prepared for you from the begin- ning of the world. For I was hungry, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirfty, and ye gave me drink ; I was a ftranger, and ye took me in ; I was naked, and ye cloathed me ; I was fick, and ye vifited me ; I was in prifon, and ye came to me. — • Verily I fay unto you, inafmuch as ye have done it unto one of the leaft of thefe my brethren, ye have done it unto me.'* Oh tranfporting fcene ! oh inex- preffible reward ! Let us then do good, my bre- thren, and never be weary, that we may reap, in due time, this glory and this felicity. Let US not reckon that for loft which we give to the z 3 poor 342 THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. poor and needy, but for gain ; fince certainly it is: far more blefled in all refpects to give than to re- ceive. Unhappy men, by whom this is neither felt nor underftood, who flart objections againft the per- formance of that duty which of all others is the moft a<::reeable and blefled ! However, we will hear your objections ; we will try them -, probably we may be fo fortunate as to convince you of the weak-r nefs and futility of them. It is true, you probably imagine, it is more blefl*ed to give than to receive. But, if we guide ourfelves by this maxim, if we follow our propenfity to bene- ficence, we fhall injure ourfelves and our families ; inllead of increafing our property, we fhall diminifh It. Yes, my friends, fo you would, if the preferva- tion and the augmentation of your fubftance de- pended folely on yourfelves ; folely on your diligence, on your dexterity, on your frugality, your objedion would be well founded. But if, as both reafon and fcripture aflure us, moft, if in fome fort all depends on the blelling of the Almighty ; if without it the moft fedulous application, the utmoft dexterity, the ftrideft frugality, are utterly fruitlefs ; and if this blefling be annexed to beneficence : then this objec- tion lofes all its force. And, for the confutation of it, may I not venture to appeal to your own obfer- vation and experience ? Do you know any perfon, who, merely by beneficence duly allied with pru- dence, has fallen into indigence or poverty ? M^y you THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 343 you not, on the contrary, be acquainted with feveral, who have conflantly fought their fatisfaclion in bene- ficence, and yet, by the blefling of heaven, have not only preferved, but confiderably augmented, their property ? No, " he that giveth to the poor," fays the wife man, " fhall not lack." " There is that fcattereth, and yet increafeth; and there is that with- holdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty.'* Suppofe, however, that it Ihould not feem good to the Almighty to reward your beneficence with worldly profufion ; fuppofe, that you leave behind you no great riches for your children ; is it then neceflary for their happinefs that they Ihould inherit large pofTeffions from you ? Are they always truly happy, who enjoy great wealth ? Does not experi- ence rather teach you the contrary? How dangerous to children at all times, how ruinous often, are the treafures they inherit from their parents ! Are there not far more honefl, ingenious, ufeful, virtuous and profperous men, among thofe who are indebted to their fathers and mothers for little more than a good education and a virtuous example, than among thofe who have received from them much property, or even great affluence? Is not this property, is not this affluence, mofl commonly a fnare to them? Do they not ufually hinder them from employing their natural capacities and talents, and from becoming as ufeful and deferving members of fociety as they might have been f 24 O ye 344 THE BLESSEDNESS OK BENEFICENCE. O ye whom God has blefled with children, and who fo tenderly love your offspring as to be ever afraid they fhould mifs of any thing, bequeath them the invaluable blefllng that God has annexed to beneficence ; leave them the love and the pious V'iflies of the wretched whom you have revived, of the infirm whom you have fupported, of the inno- cent whom you have delivered, of the poor whom you have relieved, of the forlorn whom you have adopted, of the orphans who, by your affiflancej have been rendered ufeful members of the commu- nity, of the low among the people, whom you, by inftruiSlion, by prudent counfel, by effedive fuc- cours, have lifted from the duft; leave tbem the ex- ample of the fear of God, of induftry, of content, ednefs, of difcretion, of modefty, of moderation : fo may you be far more certain of their future pro- fperity ; fo may you hereafter part with them with a far more tranquil mind, than if, with the want of thefe advantages, you left them the greatefl treafureSc Thefe treafures may, as the wife man fays, take to themfelves the wings of an eagle, and quickly for- fake them ; nay, on the fllppery path of life they may eafily overfet them and plunge them into ruin. But that blefling of the Lord endures for ever; thofc pious wifhes open to them the treafures of heaven ; thofe j>oor and mean, thofe wretched and forlorn, who have fo much to thank you for, who ftand in- debted to you for their prefervation, or their welfare, will afford them numberlefs agreeable and ufeful fervices j THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 345 ferviccs ; thofe examples of virtue and piety will fecurc them from innumerable deviations, and make them wife to everlafting felicity. Neither let it be faid: It is true, it is moreblefled to give than to receive, but the times are no longer of fuch a complexion, as to allow us to diftribute rehef with a liberal hand among the poor and nectfiitous. One ij; obliged to retrench in all manner of ways ; we are forced to deny ourfelves a great many convenien- cies and pleafures, which we might otherwife have en- joyed without hefitation ; and therefore it is perfectly natural for a man to confine his liberality to narrower bounds. But, my dear friend, if you are obliged to retrench, and actually do limit yourfelf in all man- ner of ways and in all refpedis ; if you do and are obliged to do this in reg:\rd to your table, to your furniture, your cloaths and your pleafui es : then we neither will nor can impute it to you as a fm, if the fame thing happen, in due proportion, " n regard to your alms and your afts of charity. But, if you do this barely, or principally, in this and not in the other refpedls ; if you are as profufe for yourfelf and your family in all, or in the generality of particulars, as your better days allowed you to be, and are only become more frugal ^md fparing in regard to the poor and needy : then, my beloved, you undoubt- edly commit a crime that no circumftances of time are able to excufe. You feize on the fubftance of the poor, on that portion of what you have in trull, to which your iefs profperous brethren have, both from 34^ THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. from nature and religion, the mofl righteous claim, and of which you cannot, without crueky, deprive them. You can no longer be called true and faith- ful flewards of the goods committed to your charge, fmce you employ them folely to your own advantage^ and not to the benefit of thofe, whom he to whom they abfolutely belong, has exprefsly recommended to your providence and help. The chriflian, who rightfully bears that title, the chriftian in whofe foul the genuine love of his neigh- bour abides and prevails, in fimilar cafes ads quite otherwife. If the circumftances of the times require him to limit his expences : he complies, he does it without reluctance ; becaufe he has learnt to be con- tent with his lot, and to be fatisfied under all events: he begins not, however, with the poor and needy ; he begins with himfelf. He rather difpenfes with many fuperflucus delicacies, many unneceflary ac- commodations, many innocent, but merely fenfual and fugacious pleafures, than while he is in the en- joyment of plenty, the wretched fhould be left, who fly to him as a fhelter from the florm and a refuge from diftrefs, fhould be left to their mifery ; and he hirnfelf be deprived of the godlike pleafure of reliev- ing them. No, nothing but neceffity, nothing but adual indigence, can force him to do fo much violence to his humane and benevolent affeftions, and to neg- led that which has hitherto been his purell, his fu- preme delight. Lafllv, THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 347 Laftly, let it not be faid : True, it is more bleficd to give than to receive ; but who knows, whether thofe to whom we give will make the beft, that they will make a proper ufe of it ? Wl.o knows whether the noble inftitutions we are called upon to fupport are effedually of that utility we are promifed will arife from them ? Who knows v/hether in times to come they may not be perverted to quite other defigns ? Oh, my friends, in what a lament- able plight fliould we be, if God, u'hom we are bound to imitate as his children, were to deal with us according to thefe leffons of parfmiony ! Do we always employ the bounties of his munificent hand to the ends for which they are beftowed ? Do we manage them fo carefully, fo faithfully, fo confcien- tioufly, as we might and ought to do ? Would not numbers, would not the majority, nay, would not all of us, be diverted of the capacities, the faculties, the goods of fortune, the privileges, we poflefs, if God ihould refolve to ftrip us of all that we do not con- flantly employ to the befl, or even that we at times employ to evil purpofe ? And yet this kind and clement God leaves us thefe capacities, thefe faculties, thefe goods of fortune, thefe privileges ; and yet he gives us from day to day frefli tokens of his unwearied beneficence. And fhould we be fo much more au- ftere with our fellow-creatures, with our brethren, than God is towards us, his creatures and fubjeds ? Shall we, merely for fear left they fhould mifemploy pur bounty, with-hold our hand from doing them good ? 348 TflE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. good ? Shall we leave numbers, languifiiing in mifery ■without their fault, uncomforted and unre- lieved, becaufe there are criminals who deferve no comfort and no relief? Shall we punifli the inno- cent, the upright, at once with the wicked, becaufe we cannot at all times dillinguifli the one from the other ? Shall we refufe to fupport noble eftablifh- nients and public fpirited inftitutions, to the utmoll of our ability, becaufe we have no complete aflurance, that the views to which they are deftined will be at- tained, or that thefe eftablifhments will in all future times be conduced on the moft excellent rules ? No, my friends, this as chriflians you will not, you can- not do. Make ufe of a prudent circumfpedion in the diftribution of your bounty ; this is your duty. Be obdurate, be inexorable towards thofe who you know for certain will mifemploy it ; this the fafety and welfare of human fociety demand. But be not rafli in the judgments you form concerning the de- ferts, the fentlments and views, of the neceflltous. Be not an auftere, but a compaflionate and indulgent cenfor of your brother's condud ; judge him fo as; you may reafonably defire that God fhould judge you. As it is far better that ten guilty fhould be abfolved, than that one innocent perfon fhould be condemned j fo it is likewife far better that you fhould do good to ten undeferving perfons, than, for the fake of avoiding this pofTibility, that you fhould let one worthy fufferer that applies to you for relief, be fent away without it= Require not, in fme, THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 349 fine, that human inftitutions and eflablilhments, (hould attain to a perfedion which perhaps may ex* ceed our human fiiculties ; and refufe not to pro- mote and encourage things which are good or gene- rally ufeful, becaufe they might perhaps be better and more generally ufeful. 'Confider too, that God, whofe good pleafure mujfl be always of the utmoft moment to us, looks more to the pious and chriflian intention in which we diftribute our benefactions, than to the effedts they adlually produce -, and thatj in his retributions, he guides himfelf more by them than he does by thefe. Our good works in number* lefs inflances refemble the feed that lies long con- cealed in the ground, and which at length flioots up- ward, and brings forth fruit, though even we may probably have forgot that ever we fowed it. Let us but do our dutv ; let us do it with chearfulnefs and without being weary^ and leave the confequences of it to that God who knows and governs all thing5, and under whofe admmiftration no good deed cau be done in vain. Let us then at prefent make no account of thefe futile objections that arife from avarice or unfeafon- able parfimony, but fulfil the fweet and bleffed duty of beneficence, according to our utmoft abilities, now when I have to recommend to you a contribution towards the erection of work-houfes and houfes of correction — now, vs^hen the foundation of an eflab- liftimcnt is to be laid, which many of you, with the greatefl reafon, have fo often wifhed for, and the utility 350 THE ELESSLGNESS OF BENEFICENCE. Utility whereof may extend to all future times, be- coming greater and more various from day to day* And what arguments are wanting, on this occafion^ to be liberal, and to lead us to expect from our liber- ality the moft bleffed effe6ls ? The harder the times, and the dearer provifions may be ; the more certain it is that numbers of the poor look out for work in vain, and the more cafily may they be tempted to unlawful attempts, and to predatory attacks on the public fafety : the more undeniable, in fhort|, it isj that wicked or unhappy men, by painful and igncM minious punifliments, ufually become ftill more wicked and unhappy, and, on the other hand, by dif- cipline and labour, often better ; fo much the more needful are inftitutions like the prefent, and fo much the lefs fliould we flirink from contributing of what we poiiUs to the foundation and endowment of them. The poor, who from no fault of their own are poor, and would wilhngly work had they the means and opportunity, mofl certainly compofe a clafs of human fociety that is entitled to all poflible confider- ation and regard : but alfo thofe, who by their own inadvertencies, or from the want of a good educa- tion, are fallen into poverty, or even by poverty have been betrayed into ads of injultice and theft, are not totally unworthy of our care and compaffion. They may probably be flill capable of amendment j they may probably lliil be made ufeful members of foci-*- ety f they may at leaft be checked in their diforderly courfe THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 35! Courfe of life, and be preferved from yet greater and more flagrant enormities. They have like us im* mortal fouls that are capable of everlafting happi- nefs ; and thefe fouls may be brought to reflection by difcipline and labour, may be penetrated with re- morfe and repentance at the fight of their fins and vices, a^vakened to better and more chriflian fenti- ments, and thus be refcued from that horrible per- dition which awaits the hardened and impenitent fmner. And fiiall we not chearfully do all that in us lies to the promotion of this generous defign ? Wherein can we better employ the goods that God has given us, than in providing for and in reforming fo many poor and wretched objeds, who are ftill our brethren, both as nien and as chrifl:ians ? Indeed, what we are now able to do cannot at once, and pro- bably can never wholly, fupply the various wants of this too numerous clafs of mankind. Indeed, the fruits of the good inftitutions we are now to promote cannot be fo remarkably abundant in the firfl: years of their foundation. But do not the befl: human regulations and attempts only by degrees attain to their perfe6tion ? Mud we not firfl; fow, before we can reap ? May not that, which at its commence- ment can only be ferviceable to a feu-, in the future be ufeful and a blefllng to thoufands ? Would not almofl: every charitable inflitution, and generally ufe- ful efliabUfliment, have foon fallen to the ground, if it had not been fupporttd from other motives than the complete aflurance of the befl: effe(51:s ? Oh 2^2 THE BLE^SfiDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. Oh let us then look not only at the prefent, but alfo at the future ; and place our perfc6t confidence in the providence of God, that whatever Is good he win certainly profper. Let us frequently Indulge in fuch animating refle61:ions as thefe : I am now com* niitting good feed to the earth, I now contribute, with an honeft heart and in fmcere intentions, what I can to the maintenance of difcipline and order ; that idlenefs, and the innumerable miferies and crimes that grow out of it, may be reftralned j that the in- nocent may be refcued ; that the tranfgrefTor m.ay be chaftened and reformed ; that the poor who is in want of bread, or Is obliged to acquire It by beg- ging, may find a proper fupport. What numbers may hereafter blefs the kind inftitutions I am now encouraging, that his dreadful pains and torture did not quite overwhelm him *, and that his innocence was brought forth as clear as the day. What num- bers will owe it to thefe inftitutions, that they were deterred from the ways of fin and ruin, or recovered from them ; that they were fnatched from the ex- treme of mifery and from defpair ; that they found food for their body, and help and deliverance for their foul. What profpefts ! Who can remain un- moved and cold at the bare idea of the manifold good that may and will arife from thefe inftitutions ? What generous, what chriftian heart will not make it his duty and his joy to contribute what he is able * Xhe abolition of the torture in 1771 gave the firft occafion to the eredion of thefe houfes of corredion and work-houfes. to THE BLESSEDNESS OF BENEFICENCE. 353 to the realizing of thefe glorious hopes ? This is what you will do ; I exped it from your chriflian and beneficent difpofitions : and if ye do it heartily and in fmcere intentions, I can confidently promife you, in the name of God, who through me is incit- ing you to beneficence, that you will be acceptable to him, and that he will give you his bleffing. vot. n. A A SERMON XLII. The Value of Human Happinefs iff elf. f~\ G OD, the eternal, Inexhauftible fource of al! ^^ life and happinefs, on us thy children, Hfe and happinefs of various kinds and in rich abundance inceflantly flow down from thee ; and in which we here rejoice before thee ; for this we thank thee with united hearts. No, thou hafl not doomed any of thy creatures, any of mankind, to mifery ; thou haft devoted and called them all to happinefs : and even the mifery that with or without our fault befalls us, inuft be and is the means and way to that defired end. This we are taught by the various difpofitions and capacities of our nature j this we learn from the feveral arrangements that thou hafl made in the ma- terial and in the intelledual world j of this we are certified by what thy fon Jefus has communicated to US and done for us. Innumerable fources oi plea- fure Human happiness itself. 35^ fure and delight are daily opened around us, whence we may all draw, and which we never can exhauft. We daily receive from thy liberal hand innumerable benefits and blellings, demanding of us gratitude and joy. And if fometimes thofe fources of delight are troubled by our tears, and thefe benefits lofe a part of their value to us by fufferings ; yet the agree- able and the good with which thou doft blefs and gladden us, retains a great preponderance over the difagreeable and evil that thou findefl good to dif- "^enfe among us. Yes, o God, thou art love itfelf ! Thy will and thy operations tend folely to happinefs; and thou doft will and efFe6t it even when we leaft think fo. Thanks and praife and adoration ever be to thee, the All-gracious, the Father of mankind 1 Happinefs and falvatlon to us and all thy creatures in heaven and on earth ! Oh that we were ever more attentive to thy bounties, ever more fociable in the enjoyment of them, ever. more fatisfied with thy difpenfatlons and ordinances, ever more faithful and blithe in the ufe of thy benefits. May even now our reflexions on thefe important fubjedls fhed a clear light upon our minds and much ferenity and joy into our hearts ! Blefs them to thefe ends, o gracious God, and hearken to our prayer through Jefus Chrift, our Lord, in whofe name we farther addrefs thee, faying : Our father, &c. A A 2 SS^ THE VALUE OF, PSALM CIV. 24* The earth is full of thy riches. T is a matter of great confequence to know how to form a right eftimate of human happinefs, or of the flock of delight and pleafure, of the fum of agreeable fenfations fubfifting among mankind. He that makes the amount of it too great, he that looks on the earth as a paradife, and the prefent flate of man as a flate of continued enjoyment, mufl be fo often and fo grievoufly deceived in his expedations as to become difpirited and impatient. On the other hand, he who overlooks, if not the whole, yet at leafl the greatell part of the various kinds of bene- fit that are in the world and amongfl mankind, or does not afcribe to them the value they really de- ferve ; he that imagines he perceives, on all fides, nought but imperfedion, wretchednefs and want, near and at a diflance, around him ; who fees, as it were, tears gufhing from every human eye, and fighs sirifmg from every human bread ; how can he revere the creator of himfelf and all mankind as the all- bountiful parent of the world ! How can he rejoice in his exiftence, and the exiflencc of his fellow-crea- fciires ! How enjoy the advantages and benefits, the fatisfa^ons HUMAN HAPPINESS iTSELF. ^^y fatisfadions and comforts of life, with a grateful and a chearful heart ! And how pi-ejudicial rt^ufl not this be to his virtue and piety, to his inward per- fecSlion ! How neghgently at times will he fulfil his duties ! How eafily will he grow languid and weary in ads of juftice and beneficence ! We fliould be on our guard againft this gloomy and pernicious way of thinking, my pious hearers, if w$ would enjoy our lives, and faithfully fulfil the duties of them. Let us not charge God, the bed, the mofl beneficent being, the father of mankind, with being deficient in kindnefs. Let us not fhut our eyes and our hearts to the beautiful and good that Is diffufed throughout the world and diftributed among mankind, nor mif- apply our difcernment to the viHfication of it. Let us appreciate human happinefs for what it actually is, and in the fentiment of its copioufnefs and mag- nitude exclaim with the pfalmifl in our text, " The earth is full of thy riches." Indeed it is difficult, it IS even impofTible, e:5j:adlly to weigh the fatisfaftioa and the difgufl, the pleafure and the pain, the hap- pinefs and the mifer)^, which fubfifl among mankind, againft each other, fo as to obtain the jufl amount of either. This can only be done by him who holds in his hand the balance that contains them both, who proportions thepi among his creatures accord- ing to his wife and good pleafure, who comprehends them both in his almighty mind, and perceives all their pofTible and aclual eifeds in every event. We may, however, form a jufler eflimate of human hap- A A 3 pinefft ^5^ THE VALUE OF pinefs than Is ufually done. We may furvey it on many fides but little noticed, and dired our attention to many collateral circumilances and things which •we probably have hitherto overlooked. And this is the defign of my prefent difcourfe. I would cfFer you a few fuggeftions on the proper evaluation of human happinefs. To this end I fhall do two things i firft, lay before you fome confiderations on the na- ture and magnitude of human happinefs in general ; and then deliver you a few rules for rightly apprer dating it In particular occurrences. There is, abfolutely, happinefs among mankind. Of this our own experience, of this what we fee and obierve in regard to 6thers, will not permit us to harbour a doubt. For, how can we refufe to fay. We and other men have various agreeable concep-r tions and fenfations ; we fee, hear, feel, think and perform many things with fatisfadion and delight ; we and others frequently enjoy pleafure and mirth ; we and others are often contented with our condi- tion, and we are comfortable in the confcioufnefs and contemplation of it ? And is not all this, when taken together, happinefs ? Indeed human happinefs is not unalloyed ; it is not perfectly pure. Not one of us all poiTefies purely agreeable conceptions and fenfations ; no one enjoys pure pleasures and delights j no one is perfectly and at all times fatisfied with whatever he is and does, and with every thing that befalls him ; no one expe- riences purely defirable occurrences. To every per- fon HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 359 fon is diflributed his meafure of diflike, of dlfplea- fure and pain from adverfe events. Every one mull tafte of the cup of forrow as well as of the goblet of joy. Even our moft agreeable reprefentations and feelings are adulterated with a greater or lefs com- mixture of ingredients that are diftafteful and bitter. But this is the neceffaiy and unavoidable confequence of our nature, and the prefent conftitution of things; and fo mufl it be, unlefs it were proper for man to be dazzled by happinefs and intoxicated with joy. As human happinefs is not unalloyed, fo neither is it uninterrupted. It does not fill up each day, each hour, each moment of our earthly exiftence. As light and darknefs alternately fucceed each other in the natural world, fo likewife in the moral, but much feldomer, bad days fucceed to good, and niifery to happinefs. Pleafure and pain, joys and forrows, tread verf clofely on each other; often • fuddenly interchange, and often arife from each other. Exceflive pleafure becomes pain ; immoderate joy turns into forrow ; fuper-abundant happinefs is fre- quently overwhelming. Our connexions with out- ward things, their relation to us, and their influences upon us, are not always the fame, may to-morrow be quite different from what they yeflerday were ; and thefe veiy things are all fluauating, tranfitoiy, and of fliort duration. So far as our happinefs is built on outward things, fo far mufl it be frequently interrupted. And even in ourfelves, in our train of thought and difpofitions, in our own mutability, are A A 4 caufes 3^0 THE VAL^E OP caufes already fufficient to prevent its confifling in a ftated, firm, and linked feries of purely agreeable reprefentations and feelings. Human happinefs is, thirdly, not equally great to all men, and cannot be fo. All cannot inhabit the fame zone, and enjoy the fame goods and the fame amenities ; all cannot have the fame education, be invefted u^ith the fame ftation, carry on the fame bufmefs, or attain to the fame degree of politenefs and intelligence. All have not the fame difpofition and capacity for purfuing, for finding and for enjoy- ing, a certain greater proportion, or certain nobler kinds of happinefs ; as all have not the fame atten- tive and regulated underflanding, the fame formed and refined tafle, the fame fentimental and partici- pating heart. All, in fine, do not condudl them- felves in the fame manner ; and but too many think and a6t in fuch a way as if they were determined by no means to be happy, but ever to become more "wretched. As great, therefore, as the difference is between all thefe circumftances and things, fo great muft likewife be the difference of the portions of happinefs among mankind. But even the fame perfon Is not always equally fenfible to the happinefs allotted him, nor always alike fatisfied with it. Time and enjoyment but too often weaken the fentiment of the goods we poffefs. Little uneafmeffes and vexations not unfrequently deprive all the advantages and comforts we have in our power of their value. And, then, neither our body HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 361 body nor our mind Is conilantly attuned to the fame lively and vigorous fenfations, as to enable us to en- joy, with confcioufnefs to enjoy, the beautiful and the good within us and without us, at all times alike. In this refpeft all depends either on the degree of our natural fenfibility, or on the particular humour and temper of mind in which we are at the time. But though human happinefs be neither un- mingled, nor uninterrupted, nor equally great, for every man, nor even for its pofiefTor equally fenfible and fatisfying at all times ; yet it is fllll real ; it is manifold ; it is great, abundantly great ; It is capable of a conftantly progreflive augmentation. Four par- ticulars that will place its nature and value in a clear point of view. It Is real. Human happinefs is neither fancy, nor impofture, nor felf-deceit. It Is founded on repre- fentatlons and feelings, of which we are as pofitively and intimately confcious as we are of our exiflence and our life ; and when thefe reprefentations and feelings are agreeable, when they occafion us fatis- faiSlion and pleafure, then no man will make It a mat- ter of difpute, that It is well with us, that we are Hiore or lefs happy. And where Is he that has not had, that has not frequently had fuch reprefentations and feelings, and has not felt himfelf happy In the confcioufnefs of them ? Human happinefs will alfo fland the tefl of reflection and confideration. It is not the work of deception, not an agreeable dream, ihdt on our awaking vanilhes away. It does not fliun 3^2 The value o;f fhun fcrenity and filence, willingly takes reafon £01* its companion, and always remains what it previoufiy was. Nay, only under thefe circumflances does it appear to the thinking and fentiniental man in its full capacity and its real magnitude. Recount, o man, recount, in fome calm and tranquil hour of life, all the benefits thou pofleiTefl:, and which endow thy mind, thy perfon, and thy outward flation ; all the advantages in temporals and fpirituals thou haft, and mayft acquire ; all the pleafures and delights thou enjoyeft, and art capable of enjoying ; all the good that is in thee, and is effected by thy means ; all the profpefts into a better futurity that lie open before thee : reckon all thefe together, examine them as feverely, as impartially, as thou wilt ; afk thyfelf whether thefe benefits are not real benefits, thefe advantages not real advantages, thefe pleafures and delights not real pleafures and delights, this good not adually good, thefe profpe£ls not defirable and confoling ; and if thou canft not deny it, then it remains clear, that the happinefs flowing from them is real happinefs. No lefs diverfified is human happinefs than it is real. It is as diverfified as the neceffities, the capa- ciLies, the incHnations, the behaviour, the temper, the circumflances, of mankind require. A thoufand kinds of benefit and advantage are common to us ail J a thoufand fources of fatisfaclion and pleafure (land open to us all. Are we not all enlightened by the fame fun ? Are we not all cheared by its light and HUMAN HArPINESS ITSELF. 363 and its heat ? Are not the beauties of nature dif- played before us all in their fplendour and glory ? Are we not all tranfported with the view of thtin, when we regard and obferve them ? Does not every thing that lives and moves infpire us with joy, when we open our ears and our hearts to its voice. Does not every thing elevate our mind to the creator and father of the world, and invite us to praife him as the all-bountiful God ? Do we not all fmd the m.oft ' agreeable, mofl delicious tafte in the food and the drinks which his providence has granted us for our recreation and refrefhment ? Are v.-e not fufceptiblc of numberlefs agreeable fenfual impreffions and feel- ings ? Are not thoufands and thoufands of the crea- tures of the univerfe of fervice to us all ? Are not earth, water, air, fire, are not all the powers of na- ture devoted to our w^elfare, and employed in the advancement of it ? Are we not all a thoufand times gladdened by the fhining fl^y, the mild refrefh- ing breeze, the field cloathed with food and fmiling with plenty, the tree fragrant with bloifoms or laden v.'iih fruits, the fnady forefl, the limpid ftream, the rifing joy of every living thing? And hcv/ varie- gated is the pleafure that we all enjoy ! Do we not all enjoy the pleafure of life, and of free and -voluntary motion ; the pleafure of thought and coii- fideration, of invefligation and difcovery ; the plea- fure of labour and of reft ; of prudent defigns, and of their fuccefsful execution; the pleafure of the re- tired enjoyment of ourfclvcs, and of fecial converfe witli 3^4 THE VALUE OF with Others ; the pleafure of received or afforded affiilance ; the pleafyre of cautioufly avoided or of heroically conquered danger ; the pleafure df love and of friendfhip ; the pleafure of rational piety and devotion ? What fources of happinefs ! How dif- ferent, and yet how rich and common ! From whom are they totally debarred ? What man has not ufed them ? Who may not daily draw from thefe foun- tains of pleafure ? And how various mufl not the happinefs be that is daily drawn from them ! — Does not each age, each fex, each ftation, each courfe of life, each charge, each connexion ; does not every feafon of the year, every climate, every country, every greater or fmailer fociety, derive from them it^ pe- culiar advantages, pleafures and joys, its own caufes of agreeable fenfations, of happinefs ? And who, amid this diverfity of fources and means of pleafure and good, need go empty away ? Who, but by his own fault, can be wholly unhappy ? No j Lord, the earth is full of thy riches ! If human happinefs be various, fo likewife is It great, abundantly great. Great in regard of the multitude of agreeable fenfations ; great in regard of the vivacity and ftrength, as well as of the continu- ance of them. V/ho can enumerate the agreeable conceptions and fenfations, which only one man has in one year, which only one man has in the whole courfe of his life ? Who is able to reckon up the multitude of aiij^reeable ideas and fenfations which at once exifl in all living men in every hour, in every I moment. HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 365 moment. To what a fum of happlnefs mufl not the whole refult amount ! And how often do not thefe fenfations proceed to tranfport ! How often do they not hurft forth in tears of joy, in hearty mirth, in fhouts of jubilation ! And how often do not whole years, and flill longer periods of life, ghde away in calm fatisfadlion to a man, wherein he conflantly feels pleafed with his exiflence, and finds no caufe of diifatisfadlion or complaint ! Indeed, at the fame time, a thoufand forts of unpleafant ideas and feel- ings take place among mankind ; indeed, at the fame time the tears of pain and forrow are flowing from a thoufand and a thoufand eyes ; but if this feem to diminifh the bulk of human happinefs, yet does it not remove it ; it ftill remains not only great, but preponderatively great. Where is the man, who, in the aggregate, has had more difagreeable than agree- able ideas and feelings, that has experienced more pain than pleafure ? And if there be fuch perfons, how fmall is their number in comparifon with the number of thofe that have had the contraiy to rejoice in ! No, the preponderance of happinefs above that of mifery is great ; and fo fure as that there is more life than death, more health than ficknefs, more fu- perfluity and fatiety than hunger and want, more free and unimpeded exertion of mental and bodily powers than total inaction or painful reftridlion of them, more love than hatred, more hope than fear, more defire for prolongation of life than for its ab- breviation, amongfl mankind I No, for one mourn- ful $66. THE VALUE OF f ul hour we pafs In fighs, we may ferenely and chear- fully live an hundred ; for one tear extorted by pain, we may fhed a thoufand tears of generous fenfibility, or of fedate and pious joy : for one misfortune that happens to us, a thoufand of known and unknown benefits fall to our lot. Laftly, human happinefs Is capable of an ever pro» greflive increafe. And this uncommonly enhances its worth ; this puts all complaint of (liort forrows and tranfient mifery to filence. Human happinefs is not confined to the narrow limits of this hfe ; it is immortal, Hke the man that enjoys it. The happi- nefs we here enjoy, enjoy as rational and good be- ings, is the path to ftill purer and higher happinefs In a better world ; and the enjoyment of that capa- citates us for the enjoyment of this purer and fuperior happinefs. Let, therefore, human happinefs be never fo maich alloyed at prefent, never fo much inter- rupted, never fo m.uch circumfcribed, what an im- portance, what a fweetnefs mufl it not receive from the profpe6l of its never ceafmg, but always continu- ing, always improving, always becoming greater and more perfeft, and at length totally vanquilhing all evil and mifery ! Thefe, my pious hearers, are the general ideas which reafon and experience give us of the nature and magnitude of hurhan happinefs. Allow me to fubjoin a few rules for rightly appreciating and judg- ing of it in particular cafes, or in regard to particular perfons. Woulda HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 367 Wouldft thou, then, my chrifllan brother, wouldfl: thou juftly pronounce on the value of human happi- nefs in particular cafes, and poize it againfl human mifery ; then confound not profperity and happinefs together. Argue not from the defe£l of the one to the want of the other. That is far more rare than this : that confifts in outward advantages and goods that adorn us, and are fometimes beneficial to us, and fometimes hurtful ; this, in images of the mind and fenfations of the heart, which procure us fatisfac- tion and pleafure ; that is not in our power, this de- pends greatly on ourfelves : either may fubfift inde- pendently on the other, they are often divided afunder ; and as profperity is not ah^^ly3 attended by happinefs, fo neither is the former a neceiTaiy re- quifite of the latter. Indeed, if only the rich, the eminent, the great, the mighty, only fuch as are fur- rounded by fplendour and opulence, only them that fare fumptuouily every day, and pafs their lives in tumultuous pleafures, are to be and to be accounted happy, then wilt thou find but little happinefs amongft the fons of men ; for, comparatively, but few can be rich and eminent and great and mighty ; but few can diftinguifh themfelves from others by pomp and fplendour, or by a luxurious and voluptuous life. If, however, there be but few fuch darlings of fortune, then are there fo many more happy, fo many more chearful and cTontented perfons j and whom thou mayfl find in every flation, among all the clafles of mankind j whom thou mayfl and wilt very often find in 368 THE VALUE OF in the meaneft cottage of the countryman, In the un- omamented habitation of the artificer, not unfre- quently in the tattered garb of poverty, and even under the fquahd appearance of woe. Wouldfl thou, farther, judge rightly of human happinefs in particular inilances ; then take as much care, on the other hand, not to account misfortune and unhappinefs as one and the fame, or always, from the prefence of the one, to conclude on the prefenca of the other. No, misfortune does not al- ways imply, does not with v/ife and good perfons imply unhappinefs ; and our heavenly Father, who has ordained us to happinefs, has fo conflituted our nature, and the nature of things, that we may expe- rience much misfortune and yet be happy, and flill rejoice in his bounty and in our prefent and future exiflence. Let it be, that, by untoward events, I fuffer lofs in my property, in my outward diftinctions, in my health, in my fame, that fome fources of niy pleafure fail, that my friends and intimates forfake me ; let it be, that all thi's fhakes the ftem of my happinefs, that it weakens and brings it to the ground ; is it therefore wholly and for ever deftroyed and overthrown ? May it not ftill, like the tree which has been bent by the florm to the earth, lift up its head again, and again be rich in biofibms and fruits, when the tempefl is over and gone, and ferenity and peace are once more reftored ? Have I, then, by thefe adverfe events, loft all the agreeable ideas and feelings I formerly had ? With thefe outward goodi HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 369 goods and advantages, am I then likewife defpolled of my inward fpiritual perfeftion, and the confciouf- nef& of what I am, and fhall hereafter be ? Are, then, my relations with God and the future world, which afforded me fo much comfort and repofe, dif- folved ? Do not, then, a thoufand other fources of delight and joy flill (land open to me ? Do not time and refleftion and bufinefs heal the mod painful wounds inflided by misfortune ? Beware, then, of fupponng every unfortunate man to be unhappy ! Misfortune is tranfitory : happinefs can fland out a thoufand attacks of it, ere it can be torn from the fpot where it has once taken root. On the fame principle, beware too of always fuppofmg trouble and mifery to be wherever thou feed; tears to flow. They flow as often, and probably oftener, from fources of delight than of pain ; and we have commonly mingled fenfations, in which the difagreeable is far over-balanced by the pleafant ; fenfations arifmg from the moft cordial feelings of benevolence and affeftion to the human race, of virtue and greatnefs of mind, and not unfrequently are conne6led with the moft enchanting recollections of blefiings already enjoyed, and with the moft delightful profpecls of future blifs. Wouldft thou, thirdly, my chriftian brother, judge rightly of human happinefs in particular cafes, and in regard of particular perfons, and not overlook the greater proportion of it ; then do not dwell merely, not principally on the extraordinary, the fhining VOL. II. B B kinds Zyo THE VALUE OF kinds and fcenes of happinefs, which attraft the eye of every beholder, — they are not indeed extremely frequent in the world, — but take likewife, and flill more, into confideration, the placid, domeftic plea- fures and joys which lie concealed from the view. Bring into the account the permanent advantages and benefits a man enjoys, though becaufe of their being conftant, they excite in him no very ftrong emotions of joy and delight. Seldom indeed can we enjoy the lively pleafure of returning health and of reftored hfe ; but daily the calmer pleafure of the uninterrupted continuance of both. Seldom indeed are we able to bring great matters to effect, rarely to tafte the delioht of beinc^ the benefactor and the re- deemer of our brother ; but daily may we comfort and chear ourfelves in the reflexion on having per- formed fomething good and ufeful in our ftation and calling. Rarely indeed can we accomplifh fuch re- markable and defirable alterations in our condition, as fhali fill us with a peculiar and hitherto unknown delight ; but daily may we enjoy the innumerable agreeableneffes and advantages of it. Seldom can we, perhaps, partake of public diverfions, more rarely approach the bright and dazzling luftre of the fa- fhionable circles of perfons far above us in rank ; but daily may we enjoy the pleafures of domeflic life, of familiar intercourfe, and the friendly converfatlon of our family, walk daily in the genial light which peace and fatisfaftion fhed around us. Seldom, per- haps, does our devotion kindle into tranfport ; but daily hUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 37 1 daily may it procure us comfort and repofe and tran- quil joy. And is only that, is not this likewife hap- pinefs ? Shall the good and the agreeable that we may fo often, that we may daily enjoy, lofe its value for the very reafon that it fo often, that it daily pro^ cures us fatisfa^lion and pleafure ? Ought not this circumftancc to render it fo much the more precious to us ? Does it not therefore contribute fo much the more to the fum of our agreeable ideas and feelings, and therefore to our happinefs ? AVouldfl thou, fourthly, my chriftian brother, rightly appreciate and rightly judge of human hap- pinefs, and that efpeciilly in regard of particular cafes and perfons ; then confider man not merely as a fenfual, but likewife as an intelligent and moral creature, and take alfo into the account the benefits, the advantages, the pleafures, he enjoys as fuch. Or have we only then agreeable reprefentations and feehngs, are we happy only then, when our fenfes procure us pleafure and delight, when our appetites are flattered, when our animal cravings are fatisfied^ when we feel and enjoy the value of health, of bodily llrength, of riches, and outward welfare ? Are we not as much, and more fo, as often as we apply our mental faculties with confcioufnefs, and not without fuccefsful effects ; as often as we meditate on im- portant matters, or matters we hold to be important; as often as we difcover any traces of truth ; as often as we adjufl or increafe our knowledge of whatever kind ? Are we not alfo happy as often as we feel BB2 the 372 THE VALUE OF the dignity of our nature, the grarrdeur of our defli- nation, our blefled connedlions with the deity ; as often as we maintain, hke free and rational beings, the dominion over ourfelves, and over the things that are without us ; as often as we thence obtain a vidory over evil ; as often as we obferve that we are drawing nearer to chriilian perfeftion ? Are we not fo, as often as we form a good defign, or bring it to effect ; as often as we are actuated by benevolence and affedion towards others ; as often as we are em- ployed in beneficence ; as often as we have com- pleted fome ufeful work, or faithfully difcharged our duty ? Are we not fo even then when we facrificc fomething to duty and to virtue, or to the com- mon intcrefl ; when we bear and fuffer for others from magnanimity or friendfiiip ; when we endure adverfity and misfortunes v/ith fortitude, and become wifer and better by them ? Oh, how much more contented, how much more happy is, frequently, the obfcure, but reflecting and virtuous moraliit, the fuffering but pious chriflian, than the opulent and dignified voluptuary, who is all flefh, and knov/s no other pleafures than what his fenfes procure him ! How much more real and lading pleafure does often one hour of calm and clear contemplation on im- portant objeds, and the fedate enjoyment of our mental powers, afford us, than whole days of noify and tumultuous joys ! How much more does one generous or beneficial deed contribute to our fatis- fadion, than the rulhing torrents of fcnfual amufe- ments. HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. 37^ ments, which quickly pafs away ! And yet how feldom are thefe purer pleafures, thefe lublinier joys, brought into the account, in taking eftimates of hu- man happinefs ! Wouldft thou J laftly, o man, evaluate properly thy own and thy brother's happinefs ; then confider the human creature not barely in certain epochas or times, but in the whole capacity of his life and for- tunes. Conned the pajfl, the prefent and the future, fo together in thy thoughts, as in the nature of things they are connected together. If this or that period of the life of a man appears cloudy and wretched, another will cafl the more light upon it, and evince more happinefs enjoyed. The firfl entrance on bu- fmefs, on a6live life, is generally difficult and toil- fome, and its progrefs brings comfort and pleafurc. Sometimes youth, and fometimes manhood, is weal- thier in happinefs. Often is there more enjoyment in this life, often more qualification and preparation for future enjoyment. Wouldft thou (late the fum of thy own or thy brother's happinef? ; then fet all thefe againft each other, reckon all agreeable and chearful fenfations together, the innocent fportive delights of childhood, the livelier joys of youth, the more rational, nobler pleafures of the mature and advanced age. Think on all thou haft enjoyed, and flill enjoyeft, of agreeable and good, and alfo what thou mayft hope to enjoy in future ; on all that thou art and haft and doft, that is good and prolitable, and that thou mayft and wilt be and have and do in BB3 all 374 THE VALUE OF all fucceeding times. Forget not that thou art im- mortal, that thou art ordained to everlaftino- hao- pinefs, that thou art already happy in hope ; and, from the firfl-fruits, conclude of the full harveft ; from the fweets of the foretafle, of the delicioufnefs of complete fruition. Thefe rules will guide thee fafely in appreciating human happinefs, and enable thee to perceive its true nature and magnitude. On the whole, my chiiftian brother, conclude, that man was not made for mifery by his creator and father, but was formed for happinefs : that to this end he is endowed with difpofitions and capacities for it ; that he finds in himfelf and without him the mod various and abundant fources of fatisfaftion and pleafure ; and that it is almofl always his own fault when he does not draw from them contentment and joy. Farther conclude, that human happinefs is no infignificant, contemptible matter, as the unfor- tunate and the melancholy at times reprefent it to be, that none but the mifanthropift can wholly be blind to it, none but the inconfiderate and thoughtlefs can hold it for a trifling objeft. And aifuredly con- clude, that there is far, far more agreeable" than dif- agreeable fenfation, far more happinefs than mifery among mankind, far, far more good than evil in the ■world. In fine, exalt this comfortable idea by the juft and grand fentiment j that in the kingdom of God, the God of love, happinefs will always abide, and be augmenting and fpreading ; and that, on the other hand, mifery will be ever diminifliing and at length HUMAN HAPPINESS ITSELF. ^7 5 length entirely ceafe, ?.nd be fucceeded by perfection and blifs. So wilt thou think worthily of God, and juflly of the flate and deftination of man. So wilt thou be always chearful in the prefent life, and be conllantly more fitted for the future. BB 4 SERMON XLIII. Settlement of our Notions concerning human Happinefi. GOD, the eternal, inexhauflible fource of life, of joy, of happinefs, from thee flow life and joy and happinefs on every part of thy immenfe creation. Whatever thou, All-gracious, haft created, thou haft formed for happinefs, and thy wifdom never fails of its ends. However various the methods by which thou leadeft thy creatures to their deftination, they by one way or another, fooner or later, infallibly reach it. Us too, thy children on earth, haft thou, our merciful Father, deftined to happinefs, made us fufceptible of it, and pointed out and opened to us numerous and rich fources both within us and without us, from which we may draw fatisfadion and pleafure. To none of us all are thefe fources entirely fhut, none draw from them in yain. Might we but feek our happinefs there alone TRUE NOTION OF HUMAN HAPPINESS. ^77 alone where it Is really to be found, and as worthily ufe, as thankfully and chearfully enjoy, that portion of it which thou haft decreed to each of us, as is fiecelTary to thy views and to our welfare ! Might we ever better underftand, what human happinefs really- is, ever form founder notions of the way that leads to it, rightly diftinguiftiing it from femblance and deception, and learn with ever greater circum- fpeftion to walk that way ! Might we even now, that we are about to meditate on this fubjeQ, purfue our reflexions with that ferioufnefs and attention which the importance of the m.atter demands. En- lighten us by thy light, and guide us by thy holy fpirit. Let thy truth diffipate our prejudices and errors, and grant that we may obediently follow its direftions and precepts. Oh hearken to our fuppli- cations, which we prefent unto thee in the name of our lord and faviour Jefus Chrift, repofmg our en- tire confidence in his promifes, and farther invoking thee in his words : Our father, &c. 37S TRUE NOTION OF HUMAN HAPPINESS. LUKE Xli. 15. A- man's life confifleth not in the abundance of the things whick he pofTefTeth. T? VERY living and thinking creature, my pious -*^ hearers, is ftriving and panting after happinefs, childhood and youth, maturity and hoary age, the rough uncultivated man of nature and the more civilized and polifhed member of fociety, the igno- rant as well as the learned, the volatile as well as the grave, he who has reflected on happinefs and explored its various fources, as well as he to whom both the term and the idea are alike unknown and ilrange. Every one is defirous to rejoice in the Hfe and the faculties which he feels within him ; every one to enjoy as much property, as many accommo- dations and pleafures, as he knows and can acquire; every one abhors and fhuns all difagreeable, painful ideas and feelings; every one, on the other hand, wifhes to augment the fum as well as the vivacity and force of his agreeable ideas and feelings. If the one acls with confcioufnefs and confideration ; the other, in the fame purfuit, follows merely an in- ward irrefiftible inftinft, an obfcure fenfation. If the one ads upon principles and determinate views ; the other futfers himfelf to be blindly led by the impref- fions TRUE KOTION OF HUMAN HAPPINESS. 379 fions and colllfions of outward things, or by his fenfual animal feelings. All run after the fame ob- jeS: : but the ways they ftrike into to that end, tend very far afunder. None even entirely mifs of their purpofe : but mod of them attain to it along very toilfome roads, after long and dangerous deviations, after many vexatious difappointments ; attain to it only late, only very imperfectly, and pains and for- rows mark moft of the fleps they have made. But, fmce the longing and the endeavouring after happinefs is fo natural to man, and is fo intimately blended v/ith all that he thinks and wills and does ; it is undoubtedly of the utmoft moment, that he ihould give them the proper direction ; that direction whereby he may the moft certainly, the mod: fafely, the moft completely accomplifh his defire. Who- ever is once arrived at that ftage of human culture that he can reflect on happinefs and mifery, and on the means and fources of it, and is frequently and cogently fummoned to reflect upon them, fhould not fatisfy himfelf with obfcure and confufed ideas on thefe fubjeds. Otherwife he would be ftill far- ther from the mark than his unenlightened, entirely fenfual brother. He fhould rather ftrive to adjuft and ever more accurately to afcertain his ideas on thefe important matters. We, my pious hearers, we are at that ftage of civilization : as perfons who ^ are acquainted with their intelledual faculties and underftand the ufe of them j and as chriftians, who have a fuperior light to enlighten and to guide them 4 on ^So TRUE NOTION OF HUMAN HAPPINESS. *on the way of truth. Let us alTert our privileges by- forming to ourfelves jufl conceptions of human hap- pinefs. This is the defign of my prefent difcourfe. A man's Kfe confiils not, fays Jefus in our text, no man Hves, no man is rendered happy, by the abundance of his polfelTions. This expreffion of our divine teacher points out to us the track by which we are to feck, or not to feek our happinefs. Let us purfue this track by circumflantially weigh- ing wherein our happinefs confifts or does not con- fift, and by what way we may mofl furcly arrive at it. Subjects of refleftion, certainly meriting our ut- jnofl attention and our moil cordial participation. ; A man's life confilleth not m the abundance of his poiTeiTions ; therefore, human happinefs confifts not in tiie poiTeiTion of outward goods and advan- tages, not in wealth and affluence, not in elevation and power, not in thofe things that mankind reckon worldly profperity. Experience teaches us that a man may have all thefs things, that he may pofTefs them in an ample, a fuperfiuous degree, and yet be unhappy ; and that on the other hand he may .be deflitute of all or of the greateft part of thefe things, and yet be happy. Or, are all, are even moft of the rich and great and powerful happy : Are they content, pieafed, fatisfied ? Are they truly comfort- able in what they have and polTefs ? Do they find in the ufe and enjoyment of it, all that they hoped and expected from it ? Do they enjoy it without apprehenfions and without cares ? Do thefe advan- tages TRUE NOTION OF FIUMAN HAPPINESS. 38 I tages fhield them from all the troubles and vexations of life, from pains and ficknelTcs, from the effects of envy and jealoufy, from the pernicious violence of inordinate and corrupt paifions ? Are not their wants very often only fo much the more numerous and great, their defires and appetites the more vio- lent and infatiabie, in proportion as they have more means and opportunities to comply with them, and to give ear to their im.petuous cravings ? Does not frequently their dependence on others, their bond- age, their a6:ual flavery, increafe in proportion as they want more things and perfons to the gratifica- tion of their defires and to the execution of their projects ? On the other hand, are all thofe un- happy, who live in an inferior flation, who are defti- tute of the goods of fortune and outward advan- tages? Are all, are many of the fources of plea- fure, fhut up againil them ? Are peace of mind, content, delight unknown and foreign to them ? Do they not frequently enjoy them in a far fuperior degree, far more carelefsly and freely, than thofe pretended favourites of fortune ? Does not the low- linefs and obfcurity of their ftation fecure them from a thoufand dangers and troubles ? Have they not all that nature and religion offer to the man and the chriftian, in common with the rich and the mighty? Is not generally their tafte lefs vitiated, and their fenfibility flronger and more lively ? Is not their happinefs lefs dependent on accidents and vicifli- tudes ? Cannot frent, may and mufl be prefently difcovered by every reflecting perfon. Reflefting, however, as well as unthinking perfons but too frequently confound words and things in their minds and judgments, in their difcourfes and ac- tions ; and thus the former as well as the latter, though in an infeiior degree, are led into numberlefs errors, falfe and fhallow judgments, into tranfgref- fions and follies, into anxieties and troubles. Who- ever fhould conflantly avoid this confufion, avoid it 4 in 39^ THE DIFFERENCt BETWEEN in thinking as well as in fpcaking, in common lifs as well as in fcientific exercifcs ; whoever in this re- fpe£t ftiould think precifely and fpeak precifely : fuch an one would certainly, in point of fatisfaction and happinefs, of wifdom and virtue, far excell every other who fhould not do fo. The fubject therefore well defcrves that we fiiould employ ourfelves fome- •what longer upon it. It fcems at firfl: to relate merely to words ; but they are words that "have an extraordinary influence on morals, that do far, far more good or harm among mankind, than is ufually imagined. And therefore the Xignincation and ufe of them is not an objecl of idle curiofity, but muft Hand in the clofeft connection with whatever we are moft concerned in. May thefe remarks excite you to attention, to continued attention to my prefent difcourfe and to the careful application of it ! My defigTi is accurately to flate the manifold and eflen- tiai difference between profperity and happinefs and the v/ords and objects relating to them ; and then point out to you, what a beneficial influence this dif- tinclion muft have on your judgments, difpofitions and actions. If, in purfuance of the admonition in our text, in this refpect too, we let not wifdom de- part from our eyes ; if we hearken to her dictates, and follow her precepts, we fliall be prudent and happy, or intelligent perfons. By profperity we underftand all outward goods and advantages, all viciflltudes and events that are conformable with our v;ifhes and viev/s, that can promote PROSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 397 promote our welfare, that promife us the gratification of our wants, or the removal of our troubles and the ceflation of our fufferings, or means of accommo- dation, of pleafure and joy ; and the greater and more covetable thefe things appear to us, the more we feel the want of them, the lefs reafon we have ro expect them, and the more unexpectedly they fall to our lot : fo much the greater, in our eftimation, is the profpcrity that we experience. To fuch goods of fortune belong riches, fuperfluity, ftation, rank, eminence, power, honour, authority, health, ftrength, fuccefs in our bufmefies and undertaldngs, deliver- ance from danger and diflrefs, execution of our pro- jefts, attainment of our views, and the like. ' Ad- verfity is the oppofite to all this. It is lofs of our property and advantages, lofs in health and ftrength, in influence and power : it confifts in adverfe events, unforefeen impediments and difticulties, in pain and fickneffes, enemies and perils, and the like. — Hap- pinefs or unhapplnefs, on the contrary, is the ftate of pleafure or difpleafure, of content or of difcon- tent, in which the man is ; and which is principally determined by the thoughts, fentiments, defires, pro- penfities, views, appetites, that predominate in him and over him, by the degree of his moral goodnefs and perfection. Hence, my pious hearers, it already plainly appears, that profperity and adverfity, happi- nefs and.unhappinefs, are not neceffarily connected together, that they are not the fame things, that they rather are eflentially different from each other. There ar9 398 THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN are cafes enough where every man makes the proper ciiftindion between thefe words, becaufe there the mutual interchange of them would be too glaringly abfurd ; and this flie\vs, that they are really diflin£l from each other, and in like manner in all other cafes ought to be diftinguilhed. Let us now confider this difference on feveral other fides, in order to im-. print them more deeply on our minds, and then proceed to draw from them confequences of the greateft importance to us, which may have the mofl influence on our judgments and on our behaviour. Profperity and adverfity are fomewhat without us ; happlnefs and imhappinefs fomewhat that is within us. Riches and poverty, elevated aftd humble fta- tion, health and ficknefs, progrefs and oppofition^ are without us, relate to our outward condiii -n, to the relations and connexions in which we flana to- ward the reft of mankind and vilible things, to our body, which is not ourfelf^ but which our foul at prefent inhabits and employs as its inftrument. Plealure and difpleafure, on the other hand, content and difcontent, are within us, relate to our internal condition, to the way of thinking and temper of our foul, to its relation towards truth and virtue, towards God its creator, and the invifible the fpiritual world t they are peculiar to our fpirit, and determine its be* ing, its life, its aftivity. Again : Profperity and adverfity depend not al- ways, and never entirely on ourfelves, on our o\vn win and endeavour, but on a thoufand accidental circumflances PROSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 399 circumftances and things, that are not in our power, that we can feldo.m forefee, feldom bring to pafs, feldom combine with our views, and as feldom em* ploy to the furtherance and attainment of them ac- cording to our wifhes. It never depends on us in what flation we Ihall be born and educated, in what charader we fhall appear on this fcene of things ; and feldom, extremely feldom is it, to any confider- able degree, in our choice, to become as rich, as powerful, as great, to be as healthy and ftrong, and to purfue cur way to this or the other aim, as un- impeded, as we might wifh. Neither profperity nor a4verfity is fo combined with the moral character and the moral conduct of mankind, as to enable us to draw conclufions from the one to the other, and to confider them both as caufe and effed:. They are goods and evils diftributed by the Father of man- kind, among his children, from reafons very diverfe, and for the mod part concealed from us. Happi- nefs and unhappinefs, on the other hand, depend moftly, depend in fome fort entirely upon us. Ac- cording as we think and judge thus or otherwife, are thus or otherwife difpofed, thus or otherwife behave towards God and man : fo are we pleafed or dif- pleafed, contented or difcontented ; fo all furround- ing objeds appear to us thus or otherwife, with a brilliant or with a gloomy afpe£t ; fo troubles and evils change for us into advantages and benefits, but likewife goods and joys into want and pain. Though it frequently does not depend on us to be profperous. 40O THE DIFFERENCE BETVl'EEN profperous, that is, to be rich, eminent, or mighty ? yet it certainly depends on us to be happy, that is^ to be contented and pleafed, and to rejoice in our lives. Though we cannot avert and remove frorri us all misfortune, all adverfe events, yet certainly we can avoid unhappinefs or mifery, if we do but . earneflly refolve on it. If we are not able to change ' outward things according to our pleafure ; yet can we fo alter pur reprefentations of them, our whole turn of thought and temper, as reafon and our own benefit require us to do. Yet more. Profperity and adverfity are fomewhat tranfitory, fomewhat extremely changeable and traj;;- fient : happinefs and unhappinefs, on the other handj are far more ftationary and lafting. The afpeft and the worth of the former vary Avith every alteration of age, of health, of mode of life, of taile, of the outward connections and relations of the man. Ac^ cording to the varit^ty of thefe circumftances, prof" perity often changes into adverfity, and the latter into the former. Power and dilHndions are fre^ quently but fplendid burdens, and the lofs of them procures freedom and repofe. And is not all that is termed profperity and adverfity fubjccl to the greatefl inftabiiity, to the moil various and fudden viciffitudes ? Is it not entirely confined to this ter- reilrial life ? Will not both of them be buried with us ? Do not both the one and the other remain be- hind, on our pafiing over to ancther fiate ? Happi- nefs and unhappinefs, on the other hand, how much more rkOSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 40I iiiore unchangeable and laftlng ! Pleafure and dif* pleafure are and remain eveflaftingly pleafure and difplcafure, in rccolledion as in enjoyment j content and difcontent are and remain everlaftingly content and dilcontent, in every age, in every ftation, iri every mode r f life, in every connexion, while? we live and when we are dyiug, on this fide and beyond the grave, in this and in the future world. The habit of mind and temper of the man alter not fo eafily as his outv/ard condition. The former make, deeper, more durable inipreffions on his foul than the latt^: 5 inipreffions which neither death nor the grave efface, which accompany him into eternity, and there form the bafis of his fuperior felicity, br his greater mifery. Be We as fortunate or unfor* tunate as we rnay, yet we muft at one time ceafe^ yet we mufl foon ceafe to be fo ; happy or unhappy we may be and continue for a whole eternity. Not profperity, but happinefs, paffes over with us in all future worlds and eternities : not adverfity, but unhappinefs and mifery, can alfo purfue us thilher. This is not all. Profperity and adverfity have their flated magnitude, a highefl fummit, which they cannot overtop. The nearer they approach to that, the nearer they draw to their end, the more fure and infallible is the declenfion of one and the ceffation of the other. Happinefs, on the other hand, knows no bounds ; it is, like the perfection whereon it refls, capable of an augmentation and elevation to infinity. The fources of pleafure and vot. II. DD ©f 402 THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN of content are no lefs various than inexhauftible to every intelligent mind, that has learnt to prize and to ufe them ; and their enjoyment is not attended Vi'ith fatiety andfurfeit, while the pofleffion of prof- perity eafily excites languor and difrelidi. But like- wife unhappinefs may arife to a very high degree, fo as to exceed by far all the hardfhips and prelfures of adverfity. It can overpower all the capacities and faculties of the man, and fill them all with pain and Jinguiih. It attacks him ia his very heart, and is as clofely, as intimately conne£led with him as his own thoughts and fenfations. , To conclude : Profperity is a means ; happinefs is an ultimate end. Happinefs is the mark, at which we all run ; unhappinefs the ab}'fs we all endeavour to avoid. We feek I'iches, honour, and various out- ward advantages, in order to be happy ; we fhun poverty, lownefs of flation, contempt, and the like, in order to be not unhappy. We feek thofe goods, and fhun thefe evils only in fo far as we hold them to be fit means for leading us to that m^ark, or for preferving us from this abyfs. As certainly, then, and eifentially, as means and end, mark and way to the mark, are different from each other ; fo certainly and effentially are profperity and happinefs, adverfity and unhappinefs different from each other. From the difference between thefe words and ob- jefts, which, after confidering it on various fides, we have found to be undeniable on all, let us proceed to deduce feme of the niofl important of confequen- cesj PROSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 403 ces, and make the application of them to our judg-. ments and our behaviour. One perfedly natural confequence of the differ- ence we have obferved between thefe words and the objefts fignified by them is this : Not every one can be profperous ; but every one can be happy. Not every one can efcape adverfity, or remove all adverfity from him ; but every one can avoid unhap- pinefs, and defend himfelf from mifery. The mat- ter is felf-evident, and needs no demonftration. Not every one can be healthy, ftrong, beautiful, rich, powerful, great ; but every one can think reafonably and judge juilly, every one can learn to will and to feek only what is bed, every one can get the maflery over himfelf and his fenfual appetites, fquare his life by the precepts of wifdom, addid himielf to virtue and piety, and by thefe means lay a firm foundation for lading content and durable pleafure. Not every one can avert from him want, lofs, meannefs of con- dition, fcorn, pain, bondage, adverfe events ; but every one can weaken the unpleafant, hurtful effeds and imprefTions of thefe things upon him, can learn to bear them with patience and fortitude, can ufe them to his moral improvement, and maintain, not- withftanding them, the chearfulnefs of his mind and the ferenity of his foul. If profperity and adverfity ■depend on a thoufand accidental things that ar^ without us ; yet happinefs and unhappinefs d<^p^(i en our own choice, on our own will and endeavoiirj D D 2 purely 404 THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN? purely on things that belong to ourfelves, an(f over wlilch we have at lead more power than over any thing elfe. Another confequence, flowhig no lefs naturally from it, is this : The profperous man is not always happy^ and the unhappy not always unprofperous.- If the nature of the thing itfelf did not inform us of this, hiflory and experience would not allow us to doubt it. Or is tben every rich, every powerful, every titled, every healthy and flrong man happy ? Is, on the other^hand, every poor, every indigent, every low, every fick and M^eak man, every man-fer- vant, every maid-fervant, all of thofe called the vul- gar, unhappy ? Are then the former always con- tent and pleafed, always brifk and merry ; and the latter always difpleafed and difllitisfied, always fad and dejected ? How frequently do not the former envy the better lot of the latter. How often do they not wlih to exchange their fplendid mifery,- th^eir glittering burdens for the feeming penury and the unnoticed obfcurity of the latter 1 How frequently does not the gaiety, the tranquillity of mind, the un- folicitous content of tkefe, put to fname the corrod- inrr care and difquietude, the anxious folieitude, that prey upon the others. No, here femblance and reality, form and fubftance, are not ahvays, perhaps, but rarely, found together. So eafily do profperity* and adverfity blind and deceive us, fo eafily do hap- piuefs and uuhappinefs lie concealed from our eyes- The PROSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 405 Tihe former attrad: and affe6l obfervation and noife : the latter love and feek filence and retreat, and are apt to withdraw from every prying obferver. A third confeqiience from our foregoing remarks is this : The profperous may indeed be at the fame time happy, but he will not be fo and is not fo merely by the pofleflion of his good fortune : whereas the happy man is not neceflarily in want of profpe- rity in order to his happinefs ; he can be happy without it. Indeed tlie rich, the powerful, the great iiian, may be alio happy, he may be pleafed and con- tented. But he is not and will not be fo, at lead he is not and will not be fo for any long time, not in a lading and fubflantial maimer, merely becaufe he is rich, becaufe he Is powerful, becaufe he is great. In order to be and to become thus happy, he mufl be alfo intelligent and wife, virtuous and pious, he mufl underfland, poifcfs and enjoy nobler, more durable goods and advantages, he mull make the bed, the v/orthiefl ufe of his outward profperity. Whereas, if the man, by a juft, noble way of think- ing and ading, by well regulated affedlions and appetites, by an innocent, virtuous life, by true, chriilian piety, has brought peace and fereaity within, and expanded his heart to the influences of the love of God and man : then he needs neither to be rich, nor powerful, nor great, nor healthy and ftrong, nor to poifefs other outward advantages, in order to be happy, and to be ever becoming happier. He can .difpenfe with all thofe things, can be di veiled of DD -i them 406" THE DIFFEr>.ENCE BETWEEN them all, and yet be at his eafe ; and yet be con- tented, chearful and gay. Not profperity therefore, this is a fourth confe- quence, not profperity, but happinefs, is the mark after which we fliould ilrive ; not adverfity, but un- happinefs is the evil that we fhould fliun and avoid with all our care. Unlefs we obferve this diflinc- tion, and regulate our behaviour accordingly, we fliall waile our powers to no purpofe, we fliall mifs of our aim, and Ihall fooner or later repent of our error. Thus it frequently happens, that we drive with unwearied efforts after riches and abundance, as after the fovereign good of man. But are then riches and abundance one and the fame thing with happinefs ? Can we then tell before hand, whether riches and abundance will be profitable or pernicious to us, whether we can and fhall, with them, be happy, pleafed and contented ? Thus we frequently exert all our faculties, in working upwards from obfcurity and humblenefs of ftation, and to rife mto eminence, as though we could only live and be happy in that eminence. But is then eminence and happinefs one and the fame thing ? Do v/e then know before hand whether eminence or lownefs of ftation be better for us, whether we Ihould not turn giddy on the pin- nacle of profperity, and tumble headlong down in fliame and mifery. No, my dear brethren, would ye make the proper ufe of thefe confiderations ; then never confound the means with the end, the mark with the way to the mark. PROSPERITY AND HAPPINESS. 407 mark. Strive more after happinefs than after prof- perity. Seek the former as your uhimate objed, the iatter as means. At no time facrifice the former to the latter. Be more afraid of unhappinefs than of adverfity. Never confider that as a nccefiary con- fequence of this, and never this as a neceffary caufe of that. Therefore do not immediately think your- felf unhappy, when adverfuy meets you ; fancy not that you have loft all, not the principal, by the lofs of outward goods and advantages ; do not refufe yourfelf to all the fources of pleafure, if by chancQ fome of them are drained or troubled. Neither, however, rejoice at every profperous event, as you would have reafon to rejoice at true and lading hap- pinefs. Carefully difcriminate profperity and liappi- nefs, adverfity and unhappinefs, in your reflections and judgments, as well as in yoifr efforts. This is the foundation of all true wifdom, of all genuine virtue, of all lading content. Do the fame alfo in the judgments you form con- cerning others. Edeem, if ye will, the rich, the pov/erful, the great as profperous ; but efleem them not happy. With all their advantages, they may as probably be wretched as happy, if they are deficient in wifdom and virtue and piety, So, on the other hand, pity the poor, the indigent, the low-conditioned man as unprofperous, as a man to whom outward circumftances are not favourable. But pitv him not as unhappy. With all thefe deficiences, he may ftill be pleafed and contented^ may be happy, if he D D 4 have 4o8 THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN have wlfdopi and virtue and piety for his companions on the road of life. Oh may they accompany and guide us all on our plain or rugged, our obfcure or Ihining path ! How totally otherwifc, how much more juflly fhall we then regard riches and poverty, elevation and lownefs, health and ficknefs, Hfe and death ; how differently fhall we learn to judge of them, to defire or to dread, to feek and to ufe them! How certainly and fafely attain to the goal of hap- pinefs ! SERMON XLV. View ofih? Sources ofHtman Happinefs. /^\ GOD, our moil gracious and affectionate pa- ^-^ rent, how happy might not we all be even here on earth, did we but fo prize and employ the fources of fatisfaftion and pleafure which thou openefl to us, as men and ^s chriftians, in a manner fuitable to their deflination and to thy gracious will ! Kow manifold, how rich, how inexhauftible are thefe four- ces ! How great the preponderance of the agreeable and good over the difagreeable and evil, that fubfifls in the natural and in the moral world, within us and without us ! Yes, on all fides we are furrounded by the moft' diverfified, the mofl glorious demonftra- tions of thy paternal providence and love. On all fides we behold thee, the All-bountiful, diffufing life and energy and joy of numberlefs kinds, over all thy creatures. On all fides we find the commodi- ous. 4IO VIEW OF THE SOURCES OF ous, the agreeable, the delightful, iiithnately con- neded with the necelliiry and indifpenfable. Heaven and earth, manldnd and brutes, nature and relio-ion, reflection and experience, all exclaim with an audi- ble voice, that perfection and happinefs is the ulti- mate, the only aim of all that thou ordained and doft, that thou doft decree and permit, that thou commanded and forbidded, that thou gived and taked away. Yes, thou wouidd that we fliould all be happy, that we iliould be already fo even here on earth, and if we are not fo it is folely by our own fault. Alas, hovv'- often do the pured, the riched fources of fatisfadion and pleafure, invite us to en- joyment in vain, how often do they flow by us un- ufed and unobferved, or are rendered turbid and tadelefs to us by follies and fms ! — Oh might we better underdand our riches, and more worthily ufe them ! Might we more plainly perceive, more fen- fibly feel the multitude and the value of the benefits, with which thou art daily and hourly blefFmg us, and honour thee by a chearful and grateful enjoy- ment of them ! Blefs then, mod gracious God, blefs the confiderations which we are proceeding to enter upon concerning thefe objefts. Let them call forth our utmod attention to the manifold and abun- dant fources of happinefs which thou had prepared for us, and quicken us to a diligent and faithful ufe of them. We afk it of thee in filial confidence, as the votaries of Jefus, and addrefs thee farther in the form he gave us : Our father, Szc, HUMAN HAPPINilSS. 4^1 PSALM xxxiv. 8. Oh taRe and fee how gracious the Lord is 1 lUT too often, my pious hearers, a man reckons himfelf poor, becaufe he is ignorant of his wealth, or has not learnt to prize it, and to calculate it properly. But too often he accounts himfelf not happy, or even unhappy, merely becaufe he does not obferve, or does not attend to the various, ever flow- ing fources of fatisfaclion and pleafuve that are open to him on all fides, and fecks with great trouble at a diftance what lies clofe befide him, offering itfelf to his enjoyment. But too often he reckons only par- ticularly fortunate incidents, particularly dehrable and fatisfaftory events, only exceedingly agreeable ideas, or rapturous, extatic fenfations, as formino- M'hat he terms his happinefs, without taking inio the account a hundred other things, which juft as well, though in an inferior degree, procure him fatisfaftion and pleafure. If he hav^ furmounted obftacles, or conquered difficulties, which he held to be unfur- mountable and unconquerable ; if he be freed from certain troubles and affliclions that preiTed him long and pained him forely ; if he obtain fome particular advantage for which he had been hitherto longing to 4.12. , VIEW OF THE SOURCES OF to no purpofe ; if fome of his peculiar hopes be ful- filled, the accomplifliment whereof he could not think very probable ; if certain events happen, which he wifhed indeed, but could hardly expecl ; if he enjoy pleafures and delights that captivate his whole foul, and in the moment of enjoyment leave him no- thing to wifh for more ; yes, then, bu* only then, he thinks himfelf happy. All thefe things, hov/ever, cannot frequently happen, can but feldom occur. Not every day, not even every year of our life on earth, can be marked by fucli fortunate events, by fuch wiihed for occurrences, by fuch ravilhinr; joys, by fuch fignal alterations in our conditions and for- tunes. Therefore the man in whol-^ eyes this alone IS happinefs, peihaps accounts himfelf, during the greater part of his life, to be not happy, or even to be unhappy. And all this while there (land open before him and befide him, always, to-day as yefter- day, and to-morrow as to-day, fources of fatistaction and pleafure, no lefs pure than copious, courting him to enjoyment. Bat he eileems them not, overloolvs them, paifes by them, or draws from them vv^ithout clear confcioufnefs, without confideration. Would we be happy, my dear friends ; then let us avoid thefe but too common errors and millakes. Let us, to this end, take a flight view of the principal fources of our happinefs, and calculate the amount of our aclual riches : omitting all the unufual, the extra- ordinary and rane, from the account, and only fetting down what is conflantly in our poiTeflion, what is always ^UMA-Nf HAPPINESS. 4I3 always In our power, what can daily procure us fa* tisfadion and pleafure. So fliall we certainly, ac- cording to the expreflion of our text, tafte and fee how gracious the Lord is, how bountiful and kind our maker is, and how liberally he has provided for the happinefs of his intelligent creatures. The confcioufnefs of felf ; the aftual ufe of our faculties ; the enjoyment of nature ; the pleafure of refledion ; the pleafure of virtue and beneficence ; the aqreeablenefles of fecial, the comforts of domef- tic Hfe ; and the joys of pie'^y : thefe, my pious hearers, are the chief fources of our happinefs ; fources that ftand open to us all, and from whence we may draw fatisfadion and pleafure from day to day. Firft, then, the confcioufnefs of felf, or the fenti- ment of what we are, and what we may and fhould become ; the fentiment of the natural and moral en- dowments that we have, the faculties and capacities that we poflefs, the relations wherein we ftand with God and with the world -. what an abundant, never failing fource of agreeable ideas and fenfations, of happinefs, muft it not be to perfons of reflection! As the rich man is flattered in counting his riches, in meafuring his acres> in reckoning up his means of pleafure ; fo much and greatly more muft it rejoice the receding man, when he feels the dignity of his nature, and holds himfelf to be that which he really is. But would we draw pleafure and delight from this fource, my pious hearers j then fliould we fre- q^uently 414 VIEW OF THE SOURCES OF quently refle<5t upon ourfelves ; we fliould not, m the multitude of outward objects that occi'.py and diftraft us, lofe fight of ourfelves ; we iliould not, like the generality of mankind, exill and live more without than within us. We fiiould rather cherifli and fliarpen, by refledlion, the confcioufnefs of felf. We fliould frequently fay to ourfelves, in filence : — What am I, vvhat have I, what can I not do, how- ever little and mean, however weak and feeble I may be ill other refpefts I What powers, what advan- tages, do I not poflefs, as a man, as a reafonable, free, and moral creature, as a citizen, as a member of a poliilied, enlightened fociety, as a chriftian, as an heir of immortality and of everlafting life ! How far does not all this raife me above the whole inani- mate and the brute creation ! How far even above a confiderable part of my brethren on earth, who are lefs fortunate than myfelf ! And of what enterprifes and affairs, of Vv^hat great matters, of what ever pro- greffive improvement, am I not capable ! To what lengths may I not proceed in the knowledge of truth, in the command of myfelf and of outward things, in the m.ofl arduous and generous virtues ! And fnall I know and feel this, without hearty fatisfaftion, without chcarful gratitude to God, my creator and fadier ! And fiiall I not daily rejoice in it, fmce all this elTentially appertains to me, fmce I have and am and remain all this, at one time as well as at another, let my condition and my outward circumftances be conflituted and alter as they may. 4 Another HUMAN HAPPINESS. 415 Another fource of our happinefs Is the manifold uclual ufe of our capacities and abilities, and the pleafure that is connected with the legitimate, ufeful application of them, and particularly with an induf- trious, bufy life. What alterations and effeds, within and without us, may we not all, each in his flation and in his place, with our intelle£tual and corporeal faculties, daily produce ! IIow^ many matters, ufeful to ourfelves and to our brethren, commence, continue, and complete! When paffes a day, In which we cannot think, contrive, do, promote, perform much real good ! And if w-e did it with more confciouf- nefs and confideration ; if we felt and reflected more that we are the favoured, the eminently endowed creatures, that can think and contrive and do and perform all this ; if we more frequently thence dixw conclufions of the excellency of our nature, of our dlfpofidons, of our capacities and powers, of the gran- deur of our deflination, and more refigned ourfelves to the joyous prefentiments, the beautiful profpecls into futurity, which this yields and opens to our view : how very much v/ould not the fum of our agreeable ideas and fenfations be augmented ! How much happinefs fhould we not already enjoy in the proper ufe, in the good application of our capacities and faculties, without regard to the confequence ! How feldom fhould we then complain of exertion, toil and labour! How much pleafure fhould we not find even in this exerdon, this toil and labour ! How eafily fhould we pacify ourfelves on every fruit- Ids 4l6 VIEW OF' tHE SOURCES OF lefs or apparently fruitlefs undertaking or utten'ipt> by the refledlon : I have, however, thought and ?i6led as an intelligent, reafonable being ! I have^ however.^ fcit my pre-eminence over the inferior claiTes of creatures and my relationfliip with fpirits of a higher order ^ I have maintained the poll allot- ted me by my maker ; exercifed the faculties he fr^ve me, and flrengthened them by exercife ; la- boured at my improvement, and forwarded myfelf more or lefs towards my completion ! And may not the enlightened, the reflecling, the well-difpofed man, daily fay this, and daily find fatisfaclion in the fentiment ! Let him be ctherwife bufied as he will,, employing his faculties to what purpofe he will, whe- ther he perform much, or little, or nothing with them : yet he has ufcd them conformably to the ends for which they were given, conformably to the will of God ; and if he do it with intelligence and €onfideration, then he has not employed them in vain, he has thereby furthered his perfeftion, and this is the flraiteft, the furcft way to happinefs. A third fource, in confluence with the la ft men- tioned, is refledion ; the retlcClion on whatever we feel and think and do, on whatever v/e fee and hear and learn, on all that furrounds us and happens to us. The more we reflect on a:l things ; fo much the more light is flied on all ;■ fo much the more do chimerical and imaginary difficulties vaniflT from be- fore our eyes ; fo much the brighter and plainer is the p4th of ouj life ; fo much the more connetHoi* and HUMAN HAPPINESS; 4^7 and order and wife defign do we difcover in what otherwife would perplex and diflurb us. This re- flexion, when we are once expert in it, and havfe tailed its fweetnefs, is a perpetually flowing fource of happinefs, in the profoundeft filence as well as in the midfl of noife and tumult, in the moll perfect folitude as in the moll numerous company, in the darkeft night as in the fplendour of the meridian fun. It is the fource of delight, which lead of all depends on outward things, on events and turns of fortune ; is mod of all in our own power ; is continually neareft at hand ; is mod feldcm and never entirely dried up ; to the ufe whereof we lead of all are in want of extraneous help, and the enjoyment whereof mod of all makes us feel our dignity, raifes us highed above vifible and tranfitory things, and brings us n eared to fuperior beings ^ even to the deity himfelf. From this fource have all the , wife and good of every age and every nation, drawn that repofe and contentment, that confclation and joy, by which they didinguidied themfelves from other men, by which they were enabled to difpenfe with and to lofe fo many things, without uneafmefs and without regret, to bear and to fuffer fo many things with calmnefs and ferenity of mind, to do and to perform fo many things with complacency and delight ; and, in every dation, in all the viciffi- tudes of outward fortune, to be pleafed and happy. Oh draw from this fource, all ye who live amongd polite and enlightened perfons, and have fo many vol,, li. E E means 4iS VIEW OF THE SOURCES OF means and incentives to reflexion. Cultivate your underftandings, cultivate all your mental faculties with diligence and care ; give a new edge to your attention and your obfervation, be on your guard againft heedleilhefs and levity; viev/, remark, enjoy, do all things as thinking, rational creatures ; purfue every ray of light that touches you, every track of truth that prefents itfelf to you ; fo will you never experience the oppreflive burden of languor and dif- guft, fo doftrudlive to happinefs ; fo will you under- ftand how to be continually employed, and how to be ever agreeably employed ; and, inllead of lead- ing a dream-like life, your life will be truly joyous in the clear confcioufnefs of what you think and do. The pleafure of virtue and of beneficence is a fourth fource of human happinefs, which Hands open to us all, and whence we may daily draw. And how pure, hov/ abundant is this fource ! What day paffes by without affording us an opportunity of ilrengthening ourfelves in fome good difpofitionj of combating and controuling fome bad propenfity, of flifling fome inordinate inclination, fome corrupt paflion in its very rife ; of gaining fome viftory over ourfelves and the world ; of exercifmg ourfelves in fome manly virtue, in the fulfilment of fome arduous or painful duty ; of bringing fome offering to God, of making fome facrifice to confcience ; and thereby of giving proof of our faithfulnefs and integrity, and likewife of advancing our moral perfe£tion ! What day affords us not opportunity for doing vai'ious of- fices HUMAN HAPPINESS. 41^ fices of civility and ads of kindnefs to others ; for freeing them from fome difficulties and burdens; foir alleviating their troubles, their labours, their bufi- nefles in various ways; for contributing, now in this manner, then in that, one while more, at another lefs, to their fupport, to their comfort, to their plea- fure, to their fatisfadion ; and therefore of being varioufly ufeful and beneficial to fociety in general, and to many individuals of it in particular ! And, if we underfland and feel the worth of virtue, the worth of a generally ufeful life, how much folid and pure fatisfadion mufl not every vidory gained over ourfelves, every duty faithfully difcharged, every good deed performed, every proper application of our faculties and ingenuity, every greater or fmaller contribution to the happinefs of a brother, every ap- proximation to perfedion, procure us ! And how very much does not the enjoyment of this fource of happinefs depend on our own behaviour ! How much more is it not in our power, than all outward goods and diflindions, after which we fo ardently ftrive, and which we yet fo feldom obtain ! A no lefs copious fource of fatisfadion and plea- fare, is, fifthly, the contemplation and the enjoy- ment of the beauties and produdions of nature. And furely, whoever pays attention to the energies, the adivity, the courfe, the defigns of nature, in the whole and in the parts ; whoever confiders her works with open eyes and an attentive mind, and has a tade and feeling for her no lefs ftriking than E E 2 number- 410 VIEW of tHE SOURCES OF numberlefs beauties and charms ; whoever, with 2t benevolent and expanded heart, takes an intereft in the exiftence, in the life, in the manifold occupations and pleafures, in the various exhibitions and expref- fions of joy of all living creatures j whoever opens his heart to the agreeable fenfations which the view of the heavens and the earth, which the fcenery and adivity of the day, and the folemn flillnefs of the night, which every revolution of the fun and the moon, every return of the feafons, which the breath of the fpring, the magnificence of the fummer, the profuficn of the autumn, and the greater repofe of the winter, excite in fentimental fouls, and then raifes his thoughts to God, the creator, the gover- nor, the father of the world, and beholds him dif- penfmg all around with fo liberal a hand, life and energy, bounties and joys, of innumerable Idnds, over all his creatures : what fources of fatisfaclion and delight mufl not offer themfelves to him which way foever he turns his eyes ! With how much greater alacrity and fatisfadion muft he not continue to purfue the path of his life ; how many more agreeable ideas and fenfations mufl not offer them- felves to him, and as it were prefs upon him, than if he did not attend to all this, did not fet any value upon it, and walked with an inattentive mind and an infenfible heart among all the bounties and beau- ties of nature, without acknowledging and honour- ing the traces of the benign prefence of their author ! No, my dear brethren, would you tafte and fee how HUMAN HAPPINESS. 42i how gracious the Lord is ; fo far from being indif- ferent to his works in nature, the frequent, attentive contemplation of them, and their filent enjoyment fliould be one of the principal fources frorn whence you derive your happinefs. It ftands open to the poor as well as to the rich, to the lev/ as well as to the high, refrefhing and rejoicing every one who feeks from it refrefhment and joy. Add to this a fixth fource of human happinefs, I mean the various comforts and fatisfadions of focial life. A fource of delight, entirely fhut againft no man, and which ftands more open to us, who have attained to a higher degree of cultivation, and live in the middling ftations, than to many others, if v/ithal we are truly fociable, and fufceptible of the nobler fatisfadions arifnig from focial intercourfe. Yes, my pious hearers, if we frequent the fociety of our brethren with a capacity for happinefs ; that is, with an unenvious, benevolent, affeftionate heart, with a heart that takes an interefl in all that others have and Means to happinefs are not happinefs ; and the more eafily thofe means may be mifemployed, fo much the farther do they commonly lead men off from that object. No, biefied are the poor, for their's is the kingdom of heaven. Though wealth, as wealth, excludes no man from the kingdom of heaven ; though of itfelf it renders no man either incapable of being a chriftian, or of enjoying the blifs of the fu- ture life : yet it renders both difficult to but too many of its poiTeflbrs. To too many it is a burden, indeed a fplendid burden, (till however a burden, that weighs them to the earth, renders their progrefs on the path of life extremely dangerous, caufing them to make a thoufand trips, and mifleading them into the grofieft iniquities. To them the injundions of CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. 43;^ of chriflianity are but too often an infupportable yoke, its promifes have but few charms for them, and their ftnfaal, worldly tafte incapacitates them for the enjoyment of the purer delights of heaven. And when chriflianity brings fufferings on its confeffors, when it requires coftly facrifices of them, it mufl be extremely difficult for the rich man, it mufi: be often impoffible for him to prefer his duty to all things elfe, and by felf-denial and fidelity to fecure to hinifelf the recompenfes of the future world. It As well for the poor in fpirit at fuch times, well for them whofe defire of riches is moderate, whofe hearts cleave not to earthly things, who know how to be content with a little ! Their expectations will far feldomer fail them, their defires are far more eafily and completely gratified. Their road is free from a number of fnares and floppages j no anxious cares purfue them on it ; to them the commands of chrif- lianity are far eafier ; to them no facritice of earthly goods, that virtue or religion may require, appears too burdenfome ; to them the better futurity prefents itfelf in the moft charming form, and the treafures of heaven even now attract their principal inclinations. Perhaps you think, (celeflial wifdom farther ad- drelTes us by Jefus,) perhaps you think, that they alone deferve to be accounted happy, who live fump- tuoully and convivially every day, who fhun every ferious thought, every fentiment of fadnefs and woe, who turn away their eyes and their heart from every thing like trouble and mifery, who are con- voL. 11. F F tinually 434 CHRISTIAN BOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. tinually roaming about in a larger or fmaller circle of noify and fafcinating amufements, and as it were Iport, laugh and trifle away the whole of their lives* But be not deceived j this is not the road to real, lading happinefs. Levity is the character of fools, flind folly degrades and lelTens the man, and punifhes him fooner or later with remorfe and trouble. Merc fenfual pleafure is feldom harmlefs, ftill feldomer Jailing, is frequently pernicious. Wild tumultuous joys are generally attended with fuifeit, difguft, pain- ful fufferings ; and all thefe things, even when they are the moft innocent, leave the heart empty, and never fatisfy the mind, which requires nobler food and employment. No, bleifedare they that mourn: for they Ihall be comforted. Blelfed is the man to whom ferioufnefs and reflexion are neither flrange lior burdenfome, who frequently in the folemn hour of folitude bewails his fms and failings and thofe of his brethren, is indifferent and infenfible to no fpecies of human mifery, is not alhamed of the tears of repentance and remorfe, of grief, of pity, of af- fection, which a tender confcience, a fenfible, a fym- pathifmg heart and the ardent afpiration after fupe- rior perfedion, fo frequently caufe him to fhed! His ferioufnefs promifes and procures him far more real unadulterated pleafure than the levity and wan- tonnefs of the fool, His forrow will procure him lading joy ; his generous and humane tears wiU open to him the richeft fources of comfort. The tefUmony of a good confcience will blefs him,- peace mi CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. 435 and ferenlty will reign within his breaft ; and, when the world with its lufts is paffing away and the plea- iure of the fmner is changing into pain, then will joy embrace him, and his happinefs will begin to be truly gi'eat. Perhaps you think, thirdly, my pious hearers, that, in order to be happy, in order to maintain our confequence and to live fecurely in the world, we fhould not patiently put up with any injur)'-, fhould let no affront pafs unrefented, fliould fubmit to none, yield to none, affert all our rights to the uttermoft, and hearken to the demands of every roufed or irritated paffion. But be not deceived, calls Jefus to us ; this is not the way that leads to con- tent and peace of mind. Thus you will open to yourfelves inexhauflible fources of difquietude, of trouble, of perplexity and remorfe. Thus will you repulfe your brethren from you and clofe their hearts againfl you. Thus you can never have the true enjoyment of life. No, bleffed are the meek, for they fhall inherit the earth. Bleffed is the man, who has the command over himfelf, who knows how to controul his anger, to fubdue his averfions, and is not under the authority of any violent paf. lion ! Bleffed is he who is of a friendly, meek and inoffenfive fpirit, who has learnt to have indulgence, to overlook failings, to fupport loffes, to fuffer wrong, to forgive injuries ! He will live far more fecurely, will enjoy his life far more quietly and fully, will love more and be more beloved j and the F F 2 bleffed- 436 CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. blelTednefs of love and the fweetnefs of peace of mind and the elevating fentiment of felf- command, "will make every facrifice eafy to him and fuperabun- dantly compenfate every lofs. Perhaps you may hold, fourthly, all the bounds in general which the precepts of religion and virtue fet to your appetites and paflions, as troublefome, as obflacles to your happinefs ; perhaps you may ima- gine, that you would be completely happy, if you could with impunity break thefe bounds, if you could entirely give the rein to your defires and en- deavours after worldly goods, after outward diflinc- tions, after fenfual pleafures, if you could throw off the reftraints of religion and virtue ; perhaps you pity them as unhappy who have nothing fo much at heart as to be ever becoming wifer and better and more pious. But how little are they, how much are you to be pitied ! You feek your liberty in bondage, your honour in what degrades mankind, your fatiety in things that are ever whetting your defires, but never fatisfy them. No, blefled are they which do hunger and thiril after righteoufnefs : for they fhall be filled. BlefTed are they who underfland the whole value of virtue and piety, feel their entire beauty and lovelinefs, refign themfelves entirely to their fervice, with whom their intrinfic fpiritual perfedion is every thing, and who as earneftly long after it and as ftrenuoufiy flrive after it, as the hungry and the thirfty after food and refrefhment. Their defires are directed towards the worthiefl obje<^S5 towards ob- je(^s CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. 437 je£ls that are worthy of their moft cordial afFe£lIoii and their moft zealous endeavours, and never are thefe noble defires deceived, never does God, the proteftor and revi^arder of righteoufnefs and virtue, allow them to want means for their gratification. They are fure not to mifs of the mark after which they ftrive, and as they eternally proceed from one ftage of perfection to another, fo they advance from one degree of happinefs to another. Perhaps, fifthly, (celeftial wifdom addrelTes us by Jefus,) perhaps you imagine, that the man who would be happy fhould think merely on himfelf, care folely about himfelf, concern himfelf about others only in fo far as his own interefts permit, jfhut his heart againft all difagreeable fenfations which the fight of mifery may excite in him, and not fuffer himfelf to be difturbed in the enjoyment of pleafure by any participation in the diftreffes of another. But be- lieve me, this is not the way to happinefs. By this means you contraft your heart and the fphere of your ^divity. By this means you exclude yourfelves from many ample and pure fources of pleafure. By this means you can neither promife yourfelves the good pleafure of God nor the love and afliftance of your fellow-creatures. No, blefled are the merciful : for they fhall obtain mercy. BlefTed is the man whofe heart is pervaded by benevolence and com- panion and officioufnefs towards all his brethren, is moved at the mifery of another as at his own, who Js apt to weep with them that weep, haftes to relieve F F 3 the 438 CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. the wants of the poor and needy, and does good to all men accordmg to his ability. Thus both his heart and his fphere of operation expand alike, he lives in others as well as in hiinfelf, multiplies as it were his exiftence, and he enjoys the pureft, the divinefl joys ; the joys of beneficence. Him God will not be extreme to judge, him will the merciful parent of mankind treat far more gracioufly and in- dulgently flill than he treated his brethren, and all his fellow-creatures will vie with one another to fhew him juftice and indulgence, and to afford him help and relief in the time of need. Perhaps you think farther, my pious hearers, that a continued attention to one's-felf, an unremitted vigi- lance over all the defires and appetites of our hearts, the care to fubmit them all to the will of God and to keep them all innocent and pure, the defeat and mortification of all inordinate fltflily lulls, Vv'hich re- ligion and virtue enjoin, that thefe are endeavours and performances that fet the moll grievous bounds to your pleafure and are not compatible with your happinefs. But from what folHes and iniquities, from what enormities, from what thraldom and what mifery will you be fecure, unlefs order, innocence, purity prevail in your minds, unlefs you keep your heart, that prirnary fource of human happinefs and human mifery, with all diligence ? No, bleifed are the pure in heart : for they Ihall fee God ! Bleffed are they who keep free from evil thoughts and de- fires ^s well as from bad words and works, who war 3 agaifift CHRISTIAN DOCTUINE OF HAPPINESS. 439 agalnfl all falfehood and Impurity, who think and live in a godly manner, keeping clean from all filthi- nefs of the flefli and fpirit ! Their virtue is not mere cutfide (how ; it is real and effedive ; it is firmly grounded, is immovable; andjuftas real and durable Is the peace of mind and the happlnefs that accom- pany it. They may comfort themfelves with the eminent favour of God, the pureft and holiefl be- ing, are capable of his more intimate communion, of his peculiar influence, and will hereafter in a better world be among his confidents, and be vouchfafed a nearer accefs to him, the fountain of all truth andl perfection. Perhaps you think, feventhly, you who wifh and ftrive to be happy, that the peaceablenefs which religion and virtue recommend is incompatible with this happinefs, that it betrays weaknefs of mind, that you cannot thus be fure t)f your property, of your honour, your diftln^ions, that for the prefervatioa of them you fhould avoid no uneafinefs, no troubles, no ftrife or contention, that by patience and forbear-, ance you debafe yourfelves and fhould demand fa-» tisfaftion for every injury. But miflake not, (fays Jefus, the teacher of happinefs fent from God,) this way can never lead to that obje<5t. It will carry you ever farther from it. Every advantage that you thus acquire, that you purchafe with the lofs of your peace of mind, the violation of your brotherly love, which is fo rich in bleflednefs both to you and ta your brethren j and ftrife and difcord are inexhauft- ? f 4 ibb 440 CHRISTIAN DOCTjI^NE OF HAPPINESS. ible fources of confufion, of trouble, of mifery. No, bleffed are the peacemakers : for they.fhall be called the children of God. Bleifed are they who have pa- tience with the failings and infirmities of their neighr bour, who love and promote concord, to whom all that connefts man with man and confirms reciprocal love and harmony among them is facred, and who are ever ready, even at their own coft, to cement again the friendfhip that has been dilTevered, and to knit falter the tie that binds friends together. They are like-minded with God, the parent of us ail, in regard to mankind they imitate him, the original of all perfection ; they are ever gaining a nearer refem* blance to him in benignity and love ; they are liis followers, are his children in an eminent fignification, and as fuch may alTure themfelves of his peculiar favour, Perhaps you think, (heavenly wlfdom thus addrelfes us by Jefus,) perhaps you think, that every lofs of worldly property, every trouble, every affliction is in direct oppofition to happinefs, and that the ad- vantages and fatisfaCtions of virtue and piety are much too dearly purchafed by the facrifices they fometimes demand of their votaries. You lament over the virtuous, the pious, when under the preiTure of unmerited poverty and contempt, if they are ri- diculed, flandered, perfecuted, if they are obliged to take up their crofs and follow their mafter in pati- ence and fufferings. But how little do they ftand in need of pity even when God leads theip along dark and CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. 44! and rugged ways to perfeftion ! How much happier are they even then than the voluptuary, who views every affli£lion with horror, finks under every bur-, den, confines all his hopes and profpeds to this mo- rnentary life, and for every trifling advantage or tranfient pleafure denies the truth and a6ls againll his confcience ! No, blelfed are they which are per- fecuted for righteoufnefs' fake, for their's is the king- dom of heaven ! Bleffed are they who adhere faith- fully to truth and virtue, to whom no affliction, which they cannot avoid without fm, is too heavy, no facrifice which God and their 'confcience demand of them, is too dear ; who look more at invifible things than at vifible, more at the crov/n of the con- queror than at the pains and toil of the confli£t, and count all things for gain which brings them nearer to the mark of perfedion. Great hereafter will be the reward of their fidelity, exuberant the compen- fation for the lofTes they have fultained, glorious the recompenfe of their fufferings, the prize of their for- titude and perfeverance ! To fhare in the privileges of the vi£tor will be their portion ; lofty, divine joys will they reap from having fown in tears, be the mofl blifsful among the bleffed, and take the highefl ranks of honour, of power, of glory, in the kingdom of God. Thefe, my dear friends, thefe are the lefTons, thefe the declarations of the teacher fent from God, the reflorer of human happinefs. What conclufions are we nov/ to draw from ail this ? How learn from it the 442 CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. the way that leads to real happinefs ? How follow along it our divine leader and precurfor ? — Learnj — ? thus all thefe his leflbns and declarations fay to uSj^ •—learn rightly to difcriminate betwreen profperity and happinefs, between profperous and happy perfons. All outward diftinftions and property are profperity; all inward perfection and the content and fatisfaftion founded upon it is hap^ pinefs. Jefus is not our conduftor to profperity ; his do£trine promifes us neither riches, nor high fta- tion, nor power and authority, nor a foft, voluptu- ous life. ' But he is our conduftor to happinefs ; his doftrines procure us reft, content, fatisfaclion, fpiritual perfedtion. Profperity, of all changeable inconftant things, is t;he moft changeable and incon-. ftant ; it falls to the lot of the fool as well as to the wife, to the wicked as to the good ; forfakes the man frequently in his life-time, forfakes him certainly at liis death, remains for ever locked up in his grave,, and nothing but the good ufe of it accompanies him into the future worlds Happinefs is the end of the pofTefllon and the enjoyment of all the goods of for- tune J the only thing that is entirely and for ever our*s ; the only thing that can be the exclufive prp* perty of the wife and good ; the only thing that, if it be once firmly fixed, neither death nor the grave can ravifli from us ; the only thing that we can take with us into eternity, and that we there may incef- fantly enjoy, inceifantly increafe. Strive therefore not fo much to be profperous as to be happy. The former CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. 443 former rarely depends, the latter always depends on ourfelves. The forrrer is a gift of providence, generally difpenfed without regal'd to merit ; the lat- ter is the fruit and reward of wifdom and of virtue. Seek therefore your happinefs, not in earthly, tranfitory things, not in riches, not in elevation and power, not in a foft voluptuous life. Seek it within you, and not without you. Seek it in the qualities &nd advantages of your mind and your heart, and not in the advantages of flation, of rank, of honour and of refpett. Reduce your appetites, your defires, your inclinations, your paflicns to order. Submit them all to the laws of truth and of chriflianity. Set bounds to your defires in regard to worldly things, give all your inclinations the beft direction, let rea- fon, let the love of God and man bear rule over all your paffions. Seek your happinefs in virtue, in the willing and refolute performance of your duty, in the unremitted endeavour after higher perfeftion, in innocence of heart and purity of life, in a meek and gentle fpirit, in the enjoyment and promotion of peace and con- cord, in benevolence and beneficence towards all men, in magnanimous facrifices for truth and inte- grity. — Seek it in whatever is profitable to you and promifes you pleafure, not only in this world, but alfo in that which is to come, in whatever has the approbation of your confcience, the approbation of all the wife and upright, the approbation of God, and fecures to you the loving-lyndnefs ^nd the graT cious 444 CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF HAPPINESS. cious retributions of your lord and judge, your father in heaven. Seek, in fhort, not to feem happy, but actually to be fo. Be not fo merely in the opi- nion and in the judgment of others, but in deed and in truth. Prefer the quiet, unobferved, enjoyment of real arid lading goods and advantages, the enjoy- ment of rational, fedate and chearful refledion, the enjoyment of a good and quiet confcience, the enjoy- ment of a virtuous heart and life, the enjoyment of the fatisfaftions of beneficence, the enjoyment of a fervent devotion, the enjoyment of an affured and joyful profpe£t into a better world, prefer thefe en- joyments to all the marks of refpe6t, all the pleafures and amufements that occupy the fenfes more than the mind, gratify the eyes more than the heart, af- ford more tumult than ferenity, and flied more falfe luftre than gentle light around them. Seek only that, revere and love only that, flrive only after that which can calm, rejoice, and blefs you at every time, in every ftate, in filence as well as in noife, in the hour of reflection and devotion as in the hour of re- creation, in death as in hfe, in the future as in the prefent world. By thefe means, with fuch fentiments and efforts, ye will as certainly be happy and ever become more happy, as certainly as God, the father and giver of all happinefs, has promifed it by his fon Jefus. SERMON XLVU. Arguments againjl Vanity. /^ GOD, our deftination Is great ; and thy good- ^^ nefs leaves us In no want either of means or encouragements for being and ever more completely becoming that to which thou haft deftined us. In- telligent, wife, virtuous beings ; creatures, raifing themfelves from one ftage of perfection and bleifed- nefs to another, thus ever coming nearer to thee their creator and father, and ever farther capacitating themfelves for a fuperior better life, and for commu- nion with thee : Is what we all might and fhould be- come. Hereto haft thou called us as men and as chriftlans. Hereto haft thou given us, in thy fon Jefus, the moft perfect precurfor and leader. But alas, too frequently, o God, too frequently we lofe fight of him and of our deftination, and of the dignity of our nature and the grand defigns of thy wifdom and bounty j 44^ ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. bounty ; unmindful of what we are and ought to be J think, judge, a6l, as ignobly, as meanly as though we were creatures of a quite different, far inferior Idnd ; inftead of allowing ourfelves to be guided by that generous, ambition, that avidity for real, durable perfeftion, which thou haft planted in our hearts, fubmitting to be governed by childifh vanity ; and thus, inftead of rifmg, are ever falling lower ! O God of all mercies, do thou preferve our nature, the work of thy hands, from its total downfall. Do thou raife it again, by teaching us to think more juftly, to ftrive after better and worthier objefts, and to haften with unabated ardour towards the glorious mark which thou haft fet before us. Let us ever perceive more plainly the folly and the danger of whatever might remove us from it, and ever avoid it with greater caution. Blefs to this end the leflbns now to be delivered. Grant that we may thoroughly perceive and feel their truth, accept them freely, lay them up in a good heart and make a faithful ufe of them. For all this we befeech thee as the votaries of thy fon Jefus, addreffing thee farther in his name 5iad words : Our father, &c. A1?.GUMENTS AGAINST VANITY, 44/ PlilLLIPP, 11. 3^ Let nothing be done through vain-glotys '"TPKERE are faults and vices, which fo manlfeftly •^ appear to be what they really are, and the ftiameful nature and injurious efFeds whereof prefent themfelves fo clearly to the eyes of every perfon not totally deftitute of thought, that none will venture a word in their behalf; which all men, every where> wherever they are found, and under whatever form they alTume, immediately pronounce to be faults and vices, and abhor them as fuch, or at leafl account them worthy of deteftation and abhorrence. This is the cafe, for example, with robbery, murder, per- jury, avarice, lying, open vengeance, the grofTer and more depraved kinds of gluttony and voluptuoufnefs. Their very name is infamy j the bare fufpicion of them pollutes ; and their baleful influence on the welfare of the whole community is fo undeniable and apparent, that they are ever oppofed by the majority, and therefore can never become univerfally preva* lent, nor dare to hold up their heads in public with- out exciting horror. But there are alfo other faults and vices, my pious hearers, that are fo feldom entirely taken for what they 44^ ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANlTV* they are ; that artfully lurk under fuch a variety of* harmlefs, or agreeable, and feducing forms ; and whofe pernicious confequences are fo little flriking, and fo little affed the generality of mankind : that we fee them fpring up, extend, multiply, and by little and little become more prevalent and univerfal, without fhewing the fmallefl: concern whether fo- ciety in general, or individuals in particular, are likely to be injured by them. To this clafs, for in- ftance, belong levity, a propenflty to a life of diffi- pation, an extravagant fondnefs for focial pleafures and paftimes, pomp, luxury, pride, vanity. All of them faults and vices which the more eafily flrike root, and may the more furely become predominant, as their exterior is fo very deceitful; as the ideas we are apt to form of them are fo vague and fiuduac- ing ; as they excite fo little dread and deteflation, and confequently meet with fo little refiftance. But do they therefore ceafe to be what they are ? Do they therefore effecl lefs mifchief, becaufe they do not occafion it directly, not immediately, not in fo Ihocking and difgufling a way, but more filently, more flowly, and more unobfervedly ? Are not their attacks on our welfare fo much the more dangeroiis, as they do not openly lay fiege to it, but undermine it by ftealth ? And now, if, underltanding all our fecurity and indifference, there be flill real danger, nearer or remoter danger, ought not, at leaft, the public teachers of wifdom and religion to advertife us of it? Nay, they fhould not only watch with us. ARGUMENTS AGAIirST VANITY. 449 Us, but even for us ; and watch even then when the generality abandon themfelves to an improvident and heedlefs flumber ! Well then, allow me to do m)^ duty this day in regaixi to one of the fore-mentioned faults; and this fault is Vanity. To me it appears more dangerous than perhaps it may feem to you. Probably I may have refleded more upon it, and more impartially thaii many of you. At lead, it is my duty to tell you what bad and mifchievous effects I fear it may occafion ; and it is your pans to fee, that thev be prevented or removed. — It is not petulance, but love, that may you firmly believe, fmcere and real love for you, my dear hearers, an earnefl defire of promoting your intrinfic perfedion, which has fug- gefted to me all I have to fay on the fubject ; and in fame difpofitions I hope you will hear and emiploy it. I fliall by all means avoid particular applications. They Ihall be entirely left to your own judgment. The faults of which the apoflle Paul v/arn^ cliriftians in our text, are the faults whereof I intend to warn vou. He fays to them, " Let nothinc; be done through vain-glory," or from a vain propenfity to pleafe. For making the propereft ufe of this admo- nition, I fliall now do two things: firft, ihew what vanity is, how it exhibits itfelf, and how it becomes criminal and vicious ; and then lay before you its miicliievous effefts, and thus provide you with ihe neceifary weapons for warring againft it. C\:)n{bund not vanity v/ith allovv^able and generous emulation. This impels us along the way of wil- VOL. II, c G dom. 450 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITV. dom, of virtue, of a beneficent and generally ufeful life, with a laudable ardour for obtaining the efleem of our countrymen and of mankind, or rather to make ourfelves worthy of it, whether we fucceed or not : the other, vanity, inclines us to feek pre-emi- nence in all things, and particularly in trifling, little- eflimable, or quite infignificant matters ; to be ever hankering after approbation and praife; and accord- ingly to place every thing that has any value only in regard to us, and only in any way belongs to us, or (lands in connexion with us, in the moll favour- able point of view, and by all manner of means to give it confequence. Confound not likewife vanity with pride or haughtinefs. They are both faults, but faults not entirely alike ; and do not ahvays go together. Each may fubfifl of itfelf alone. If pride be not un- frequently conne£led with vanity, yet does it as of- ten, probably liill oftener, exclude it ; as vanity, in return, is very frequently, nay, generally, without pride. Many are too proud to be vain : many, very many, are only therefore vain, becaufe they are not proud enough, or have not materials enough for pride. Pride founds itfelf more on the fentiment of inward power, and is the exceffive dignification and evaluation of it : vanity has more to do with outward things, which do not belong to ourfelves, and pof- fefs no intrinhc value. It is on this account a Hill meaner fault, a flill more ignoble quality than pride, a:nd, on the whole, occafions much more harm. However, the boundaries of thefe two faults cannot alwavs ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 45 1 always be defined with exa£l precifion ; they fre- quently run into one another ; are often confounded together in common converfation ; and, if in com- bating them we fhould likewife confound them, we fliall always be only taking one foe to our welfare for another, but never miftake a foe for a friend. Therefore, to the point ! What is vanity, and how does it appear ? Vanity has a very ample range ; it fhews itfelf in very va- rious ways. It in general confifts in the fondnefs for and the endeavour to attraft regard, to be diftin- guifhed from others, to fet its advantages in the fullefl: light, and to give them an air of importance. As various as thefe advantages are, fo various are the kinds and exhibitions of vanity. Thus the witty caufe their wit, the rich their riches, the great their grandeur,^ to lliine before men. Thus will beauty make others feel its fway, accomplifliments their charms, talents their claims on admiration, fcience its influence on the human mind, and, at times, even virtue her inherent authority over the human heart, and by the difplay and ufe of their privileges demand efleem, approbation, praife, fubmiflion, reverence ; apd if from fuch motives, and in fuch views, they fpeak, keep filence, act, and fhew themfelves, then vanity mixes with the behaviour of the virtuous, the learned, the fkilful, the accomplifhed, or the fair : and, if thefe motives, thefe views determine fre- quently, if they habitually influence their difcourfes. and anions, if they have greater weight with them, G G 2 and 45^ ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. and ad more forcibly upon them, than love towards what is good and true, more than the defire to pleafe God, and to be ufeful to their fellow-beings ; then does this vanity with them become a vice, and deprive their advantages of the greatell part of their value. We fhould clofely attend to this diftinQion, my pious hearers. The defire of pleafing is natural to us all ; it incites us all to fliew ourfelves to others on the beil fide ; and to it we are undoubtedly in- debted for many gratifications and advantages, more efpecially in regard to focial intercourfe. It prevents many fallies of bafe and hurtful paflions ; fpares us the difgufting fight of many indecent and vulgar fcenes ; leflens the number of fcandals and offences in the world ; frequently gives rife to good actions ; may even, by imperceptible degrees, have a falutary^ influence on the difpofitions of mankind ; and is al- ways a homage we pay to virtue and to the dignity of our nature. So long as this propenfity is not the principal, not the predominant propenfity, in our foul ; fo long as it is kept in due fubordination to what we owe to God and to religion, to truth and to duty ; fo long as it employs no unlawful means of gratification, none that injure and difunite man- kind : fo long may we account it a good principle of action, and need not pronounce it criminal vanity. But if this lufl of pleafing has once got fo far the command over us, that we no longer alk, what is true, ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 45^ true, what is right, what is agreeable to the will of God and to our particular duty; but only, what will pleafe ; what will procure us approbation and praife; what will fet our advantages in the mod favourable light j if it govern us fo, that we flrive to pleafe every man, the fool as well as the wife, the vicious no Ms than the virtuous, fuch as are children in underflanding, as well as thofe that think hke men ; does it govern us fo that we endea- vour not only to difplay our advantages, but at the lame time to obfcure and diminifli the advantages of others, and to bring them into fufpicion j does it govern us fo as that we make ferious bufinefs of whatever relates to outward figure, ornament, pre- fentation and addrefs, or the like, and beflow much time and care on fuch generally infignificant things; does it, in fine, fo govern us, that, for the fake of pleafing others, we allow ourfelves to be perfuaded to do even what is bad, at leaft what is ambiguous, that we dare not fay and do what is right and fit, becaufe probably it is not quite current, and adapted to the tafle of the multitude, and not perform the duty, not adequately perform it, the negleft and omiffion whereof is probably thought an honour : then, indeed, our defire of pleafing, and of difplay- ing our advantages is highly criminal; then is it bafe and mean vanity ; vanity that is totally unwor- thy of the man and the chiiftian ! And now how much do I wifh to convince vou, my pious hearers, of what a multitude o^ corrupt ("'G ^ and 454 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. and baleful confequences are produced by vanity in general, and in particular the propenfity to pleafe^ by outward things ! Accompany me in thefe con- fiderations with filent attention, and thus lay up ma- terials for farther refieftion. Vanity commonly deprives a man of what he in- herently poffeffes, of that originality which makes him to be perfo,nally that and no other individual y the turn of mind which caufes him to view and to judge and to treat the things that are without and around him, on this and not on another fide, and whereby he accordingly gives occafion to others to confider hundreds of things on a new and unob- ferved fide, or in new and unufual combinations, and by that means to enlarge their horizoUj to cor- redl; their judgment and their taite, and the hke ; all this is generally impraclicable among men that are fwayed by vanity. No one v/ill venture to be and to appear, that which he actually is ; fo to fee, to judge, to treat other men or things as they all actu- ally appear to him ; fo to walk and to behave, as prompted by his fagacity, his difpofitions, his tafte, and his wants. Each will direct himfelf by the pre- vaihng fafliion ; each will be, or appear to be, what others are, or feem to be. Accordingly, one will judge as the other judges ; and all of them fo, as fome few perfons do, whofe hap it is to prefcribe the tone. Accordingly, one will behave himfelf 'like the other, manage his looks like the other, drefs himfelf like the other j and all fo as chance, or the ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. . 455 the humour of fome unknown perfon, or the folly and levity of a ilranger, has thought fit to determine that men fhall behave, and demean, and drefs them- felves. Accordingly each man a hundred and a hundred times belyes his tafte, his underftanding, his feelings, for the fake of doing what others do ; is thoroughly fenfible of the burden that opprefles him ; fighs under it in fecret ; knows not properly who it was that laid it upon him ; and yet does not dare to cafl it from him. Accordingly, he always frames and models himfelf by others j is continually circumfcribing himfelf on all fides more and more ; allows himfelf continually to be bound with more bands ; is continually becoming more and more un- like himfelf; and fhews himfelf a hundred times in his borrowed mafk, for once that he appears in his natural mien. And hence neceffarily arifes a tire- fome, difgufting uniformity in difcourfes, converfa* tions, judgments, manners, and ufages; a pernicious flop, or a very flow progrefs, in the development of the human faculties and capacities : nature is ftifled by art, and the man is loft under the multitude of cafes and coverings in which he is enveloped and dif- guifed. Vanity, particularly in regard to outward and borrowed things, ufually implies weaknefs, want of real merit, a deficiency in truly refpedable qualities; it is almoft always the fault of empty heads, and little fouls. Whoever is alive to perfonal worth, as a G G 4 man 45^ ARGUMENTS AGAINST' VANITY. man, as a citizen, as a chriftian, as an upright father of a family, as a worthy miflrefs of a houfe, whoever knows and feels that he duly fills his ilution, does honour to his office, confcientioufly difcharges his duty, performs ufeful fervice to fociety : he like- wife knows and feels, that he merits approbation, cfteem and honour; he therefore does not feek it with anxiety, makes no parade of outward, little, infignificant advantages, which, when brought into competition with the former, are mere nothings, and which he himfelf can never regard as meriLorioua. But whoever is deftitute of fuch real advantages; feels no inv.'ard vigour and force in himfelf; diflin- guifnes himfelf from others, neither by wifdom, nor virtue, nor Ti generally ufeful life; pofleffes no actual merit; and fmds himfelf neither fitted nor inclined to acquire them, and yet would make fome figure in human fociety, play a certain part, and force him- felf into attention and regard : he muft indeed have recourfe to fuch httle artifices, ?Jid endeavour, by his pomp, ms garb, his decor3,tipns, his figure, his qutw'ard carriage, to conceal, or in fpme meafure to compenfate, the wajit of real advantages and intrin- fi" defert. A confideration that ought to deter every perfon, in v/hom one fpark of gtjnerous fire is left, any fentiment of native dignity and power, from all vanity, and cover him with fhame as often as he is tempted to feek his worth or his fame, in out- ward accidental thingSj that form no part of himfelf. Vanity ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 457 Vanity is, thirdly, the parent of innumerable er- rors ; it hinders a man from rightly perceiving and appreciating the value of things, and from honour- ing himfelf and other men according to the proper ftandard, and from judging of every object by what it really is. Vanity is the fworn enemy of truth, and the manly fentiment. Wherever that prevails, there will all deceive, and all be deceived; there femblance will rarely be diflinguiflied from reality ; evei*y one is dazzled by fhow, takes art for nature, grimace for fmcerity, lives more in an imaginary than in an a£lual world. What does not glitter is defpifed, rejected, though it were even the moft pre- cious of gems ! That alone which flrikes the eye, which fparkles, is efteemed and prized, though it were even the flimfieft tinfel ! Where vanity pre- vails, there w^ill wifdom, in her fnnple attire, there will virtue in her native beauty, pafs unnoticed and unknown ; and if they venture to ftep forth into ob- fervation, they run the hazard of being hooted and derided. But folly, in her party-coloured, tawdry drefs, and vice in her pomp, and wdth her gorgeous train, will command attention, approbation, efteem, encomiums and reverence, from all ranks and con- ditions of the vain unthinking crowd. 1 will fpeak more plainly. Where vanity prevails, and gives the law, there will a man not be efteemed as a man; * there the rich man will be refpefted becaufe he is rich, and the poor man be flighted becaufe he is poor J there no inquiries will be made about wif- dom. 458 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. dom, none about virtue, but about appearance, in- comes, and refined, engaging manners ; there it is a matter of no concern, v/ho is the humanefl perfon, the ufefuleft citizen, the beft chriftian, but who is the mod agreeable companion, has the fined tafte, is the m-oft perfed echo of the prevaiUng fafhion ; there no one entertains a thought about merit, but about the femblance of merits ; there the cloaths de- termine the worth of the man ; there are amiable vices, and odious virtues ; there wiH ten moral faults, ten really bad actions, be more readily over- looked, than one fin againfi; the rules of good-breed- ing and failiionable deportment. Vanity is, fourthly, a manifeft and continued af- front to the whole fociety. The vain man is feek- ing for ever to blind us, to impofe upon us, and to lead us into errors ; to diflort, to difguife every objeft, and to exhibit it in a falfe point of view. We are to take him for more than he is worth ; to at- tribute to him more than he has ; to trull him be- yond his means ; to have a better opinion of him than he deferves. He is ever bufied in extorting from us the eiieem and reverence due only to merit; ever driving to appropriate the deference and refpe<5l, wliich of right belong only to wifdom and virtue, to himfelf and his cloaths and his equipage and his borrowed outward fplendour ; or to deal away him- felf and his perfon from our merited contempt, amidd the budle and glare that furrounds him. Certainly an affront that fliould induce every wife and ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 459 and good man to be fo much the more on his guard not to fufFer himfelf to be cheated, and never to bow the knee before the idols of vanity. This is not all : vaijity enervates a man : renders him delicate and foft ; deprives him of all tafte for what is really great, v. hat in itfelf, and at all times, is beautiful and refpedable, the tafte for a noble and exalted fimplicity ; it unfits him for all difficult, toilfome, magnanimous anions, from M'hich no praife, no renown is to be expected, all the domeftic tranquil virtues, all generally ufeful activity in con- cealment ; fupports and feeds him with imperti- nences and trifles ; teaches him to play vvith words and fentiments with which he has no concomitant thoughts and feelings ; deludes him with lying flat- teries ; conceals from him the deficiences and wants of his underftanding, and robs him at length of all fentiment of intrinfic dignity, and a fuperior deftina- tion. It keeps him conftantly amufed with airy bubbles ; ever artfully rendering them of greater im- portance, and by that very means making what is really important ever more indiiferent or more diffi- cult to him. It gives every trifle, every tranfient glare, every fleeting charm, fo much value in his eyes, that he has neither time nor abilities left for caring about any thing of confequence, any thing lafting, any thing valuable. Hence it follows, fixthly, that vanity, and in par- ticular that which regards externals, degrades the 5 nian. 4^0 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. jnaii, and is in oppofirion to his dignity. And in- deed, my pious hearers, when I reprefent to myfelf a creature fuch as man, a creature that is formed after the image of God, that is fo capable of greater tilings, that is immortal, that is ordained to ftri\^e after ever-improving perfection ; a creature that is able to proceed fo far in knowledge and in virtue, and may make fuch various, noble, and in their con- fequences unceafingly profitable ufes of his time and his faculties : when I reprefent to myfelf man, as he truly is, and then call to mind one who employs a great part of the day, and confequently a great, and that the befl part of his life, in attending to his periihable body, in giving his figure fome additional charm, in properly adjufting himfelf in regard to his drefs, his decoration, his whole exterior, exactly ac- cording to the newefl predominant tafte and fafhionj how earneftly he reflects, attentively confiders, adr ¥ifes with himfelf, chufes, rejeds, and chufes again : . when I thus figure to myfelf a man, I mufl avow it — I am tempted to be afliamed of this man, of my brother ; I pity him for being fo deeply fallen from his dignity ; fo far beneath his deftination, fo very forgetful of his high defcent, of his affinity with fu^ perior beings, and with God himfelf, and that he is fo little that which he might and was defigned to be ! Yet more. Vanity, particularly in regard to out- ward thing.s, is the flrongeft nomifhment to levity. He who has been frequently, fo long, fo earneftly, occuj^ed ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 46 1 occupied with trifles, who afciibes to them fo much value, is ever living and moving in trifles and among trifles, conftantly making them the fubje6l of his conceits and fancies, taking a zealous part in all the viciflitudcs they undergo, as well as in all kinds of fenfual amufements, often making them his principal bufincfs, how can he ever have a tafl;e for ferious, truly great and elevated objefts ? how perceive and feel their worth, their importance ? how ever become a man, and learn to think in a manly way ? Is not his life, how far foever he may have pafl the years of youth, a progreflive, an ever-renewing childhood ? How can the thoughts of God, of religion, of a fu- ture and better life, find accefs to him, acquire his utmoft attention, entirely occupy his thoughts, and prefent themfelves to his mind in their full ^effeft ? How can thefe thoughts conneft themfelves with all his affairs and bufinefs, with all he tliinks and does in ordinary life, at home and abroad, and thus be efficient to his improvement and happinefs ? — How often, on the contrary, will not his vanity call him off from the praftice of domeflic devotion ! How often prevent him from participating in the public worfliip of God ! How often diftrad him when there, and turn his attention to quite different objefts froiT^thofe to which it ous^ht to be directed ! How o quickly will the fight of fome object of vanity efface the good impreffions he has there received ! How infipid will every thing imperceptibly become to him, that does not relate to fplendour, fliow, gentility, elegance, 462 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. tlegance, fpoit, amr/ement, and the like! And •where levity prevails, how can a perfon become wife and virtuous, how a chriftian, how can he labour with intenfe application at his improvement, how attain the ends of his being, how o^^ualify and pre- pare himfelf for that fuperior life, which mod aflur- edly does not confift in fopperies ? Where vanity prevails,- my pious hearers, and this too is a highly corrupt effeft of it ; where vanity prevails, there alfo prevails envy, jealoufy, harCi judgment, and flander. The man will not only ihine, but he will (hine more than others, he will fhine alone. He will have the handfomefl figure, the moil agreeable manners, the genteelefl carriage, the finefl tafle, the bed manner of life, the neweft mode ; is determined to out-do, but not to be out- done. With what acute and piercing eyes does he therefore contemplate thofe who have the fame pre- tenfions ! Hov/ curioufly does he fpy out their fail- ings ! How eagerly fwell them ! How willingly does he hearken to the ill that is faid of them ! How artfully does he diminifli or difguife what is good or beautiful, or eminent in them ! And when he is not able to do this, when he is forced to do tliem juftice, whether he will or no ; does he fee them with the fame hearty, brotherly benevqience with which the wife man and the chriftian behold whatever is beautiful and good ? Does he then feel no mortifications of his felf-love? Is he not thus frequently deprived of all fecial pleafure.^ And may ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY." 46J may then no emotions of hatred and anlmofity arife in his heart ? no fecret grudge have birth ? May not the affection we owe to each other, as men and as chriftians, be weakened ? Are not, however, all thefe low, difgraceful paflions; and mud not vanitv, which engenders and feeds them all, be low and dif- graceful too ? In fine, vanity is in direcb oppofition to the fplrit of chriftianity. Chriftianity, which eveiT where preaches to us modefly and meeknefs ; which requires us to be virtuous in filence, and to endeavour more at pleaf- Ing God than man, to look more at invifible than vifible things. What beautiful precepts on this head do the apoftles of our Lord particularly addrefs to the profeffors of the chriflian do6lrine that are of the fofter fex ! They are to diflinguifh themfelves from others, not by the putting on of coftly apparel, but by good and generous adions. And whoever does fo, whoever aims at this diftindion, needs none of the arts of vanity for procuring efteem and honour. They are to adorn the hidden man of the heart, that which is not corruptible, to adorn their minds with knowledge, with wifdom, with virtue, and to excell others in the ornament of a meek and quiet fpirit. This, fays the apoflle, is in the fight of God of great price; this is, even in his eyes, of great value; this pleafes him, on whofe judgment and complacency all depends. And what an example on this head has Jefus alfo left us I Not only of no foreign, borrowed, exterior privilege 4^4 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VAxNITVi privilege did he boafl ; no, he boafled not of even real, intriiiiic, aftually great prerogatives : he rather concealed them ; ufcd them not in empty views j never did any thing for the fake of being admired ; difplayed his wifdom and his fuperior perceptions, not for aflonifhing, but for awakening his hearers. — ■■ Were it poluble, that a vain man fliould poffefs but even a fmail portion of the power and prerogatives of Jefus, what regard, what noife, v.'ould not he ex- cite with it ! How much would he obfcure. con- found, and lay proflrate all about him! — How far was our Lord from all faults and weaknefles of this kind ! How juftly did he judge of the value of men and things ! No femblance could deceive him ; no approbation, no praife could dazzle him : truth, intrinfic goodnefs, fmcerity and uprightnefs, vv^ere all with him. And how little did he feek his own ! How much he forgot himfelf in his zeal for the fal- Yatiou of his brethren 1 «- — And we, how are we to be chriflians, the fcholars, the followers, the fi-iends of this Jefus, in fome fort filling his place among mankind, while we allow ourfelves to be governed by vanity ; while we are anxioufiy pro- truding and difplaying, by all pofTible means, every tiUt and falfe, every perfonal and borrowed advantage, and more particularly outward and moll infignificant things, and thus lofing time and ability and inclina- tion for better and more noble concerns, for truly chriftian exercifes and adions ! No, no, vanity is manifeftly in oppofition to chriftiauity, as well as to • reafon j ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. 465 feafon ; is in oppofition to the dignity of human na- ture, to our intrinfic perfedion, to the good of the whole communityi And now, let eVery man judge, whether it be fo flight a fault as is generally imagined ; whether it is not attended \\ith the moil corrupt and pernicious effeds ; whether we have not the weightieft reafons for cautioning fuch as we love from this terrible fource of folly and evil. — 1 am well aware that va- nity does not yet prevail among us to fuch a degi'ee as it may elfe where in cities and larger towns, and that therefore all its bad confequences are. not yet fo confpicuous among us as they may be there, and as I have reprefented them to be in its natural effeds. But, what it is not, and does not yet, it may and will, footier or later, become and do, if it meet with no reilraint. • — I likewife very well know, that the generahty of outward things, that, in particular^ whatever relates to dreffing and decorating the body, in and of themfelves are quite indifferent ; but in their principles, in the manner of regarding and treating them, and in the influence they may and actually have upon our way of thinking, they cer- tainly ceafe to be indifferent. — I, laftly, very well know, that the fmgle expreflion, " one fhould not diflinguifli one's-felf, one ought not to be particular," is fufficient of itfelf, with the generality, to defeat at once all that the teacher of wifdom and religion can fay on this fubjedt. But how pointlefs foon would all thefe terrible weapons of vanity be, if VOL, II. H H only 466 ARGUMENTS AGAINST VANITY. only a few, truly wife, good and refpeftable perfons would unite together to ftem the torrent, and con- tent themfelves with the fentiment of their own in- trinfic worth, and the approbation of a fmall num- ber of eminently intelligent and virtuous perfons I What a mortal blow would not thus be given to va- nity ! And may not this, foon or late, be expefted, be hoped for among chriftians ? — In the mean time, however, I will, as I faid at the beginning, make no particular application, cenfure none, prcr fcribe no laws to any, not peremptorily condemn or blame what, abftradedly confidered, is totally indif- ferent. My defign has been only to furnifh matter for refleftion to fuch as are able and willing to think, and to drew feed, that probably here and there may fall into fome generous hearts, there ftrike root, fpring up in concealment, and in time bear fruit. *' He therefore that hath ears to hear, let him hear.'* «s SERMON XLVIIL Rules for rightly appret'iathig the Value of Things* /^ GOD, who art pure love and benignity, and ^-^ intended only happlnefs, how many capacities^ how many means for being happy haft thou alfo granted to us ! Our fenfes and our mind, nature and religion, the vifible and the invifible, the pre- fent and the future, all open to us numberlefs fources of fatisfaftion and pleafure, all promife and procure us delight, all are ordained and adapted to render us conftantly more perfect and happy. Yes, thou, the affedionate, beneficent parent of the univerfe, provideft for our body and for our foul, for our ani- mal and for our intelledual wants, for our outward welfare, and for our inward perfedlion, for our firft, terreftrial, and for our fuperior, eternal life, for what may facilitate and render agreeable our courfe to the mark, and what can fecur^ to us the aftual H H 2 attaiu* 468 RULES tOR APPRETIATING attainment of it. O God, how gracious, how boun- tiful thou art ! How much has thou done for us I With what parental care provided for our welfare I Oh that we but loved ourfelves as thou lovefl us, and provided as carefully for our own happlnefs, as thou providelt for it ! Thou haft made us rational, freely acting creatures. It is our bufmefs to chufe between the good and the bad, between the better and the worfe, to diftinguifli between femblance and reality, to elevate ourfelves above the fenfible and the vifible, and to learn to connect the future v/ith the prefent. Our happinefs is to be the confe- quence of our wife and good behaviour ; and this muft give it firmnefs and ftabiilty, and fweeten to us the enjoyment of it. But we frequently err in our judgment and in our choice ; we frequently fuffer ourfelves to be deluded by the femblance of things ; we often let fenfuality get the better of our reafoci; often prefer deceitful, fugacious, tranfient goods and pleafures, to the moft elfentlal and dura- ble advantages and bleflings. And therefore it is that we are fo often difcontented and wretched ; therefore we are fo often compelled to complain of the want of fatisfaclion and happinefs. O God, o merciful God, lead us back from our deviations. Teach us better to underftand thy kind, beneficent defigns, and to think and a6t more conformably with them. Let the light of thy truth fhine con- ftantly more on the path of our life, that we may walk it with ever increafmg intelligence and fafety. Giant THE VALUE OF THIKCSJ 4^9 Grant that we may ever judge more juftly of the various goods and advantages that we meet with on it, offering us fatisfadion and pleafure, joy and feli- city, and learn ever more wifely to chufe between them. Blefs to this end our reflexions on the doc- trines of religion which are now to be delivered to us. Let us perceive and feel their truth, and make ufe of them as a light unto our feet and a lantern to our paths in the whole of our future deportment. We alk it of thee as chriftians with filial confidence, addrefTmg thee farther in the name of thy fon, after whom wc are called ; Our father^ ^Ci PSALM iv. 6, There be many that fay, Wlio will IheW u$ any good } MAN may pofTefs a variety of goods, enjoy many pleafures, acquire many advantages, feek and obtain many kinds of perfedion and hap- pinefs ; but all of them are not of equal value, and rarely can we polTefs and enjoy them all, and much feldomer all in the fame proportion or degree. Thefe goods, thefe pleafures, thefe advantages, thefe kinds of perfedlion and happinefs, are not always compatible with each other. The ac(jui(ition and H H 3 the 4-70 RULES FOR APPRETIATING the pofTeflion of one frequently militates with the pofleflion and the acquifition of another. The one frequently cannot be purchafed or acquired without the lofs or the voluntary facrifice of the other. There are cafes where I can neither duly cultivate and improve my mind, nor enjoy the pleafure arifing from the proper difcharge of my duty, without weakening my body and hurting my health ; cafes wherein I cannot maintain and fecure my peace of confcience and ferenity of mind, without manifeft lofs of many earthly advantages ; cafes wherein I mufl chufe between the good pleafure of God and the approbation and efteem of mankind, between in- ward perfection concealed from the notice of the world, and outward fplendid diflinftions ; between fenfual and intelledual pleafures, between prefent and future happinefs ; and mufl relinquilh one for the fake of the other. Perfbns who aft not upon firm principles, who negleft to take wifdom and vir- tue and piety for their guides, are very liable in fuch cafes to be confufed and thrown into diftrefs. The lefs a man knows of the value of things ; the more he fuffers himfelf to be dazzled by outfide appear- ance and fhow ; and the more wavering his fenti- ments and inclinations are : fo much the more un- certain will he be in this eleftion ; and fo much the oftener will he prefer the evil to the good, the worfe to the better. To guard you againfl this tormenting and dangerous uncertainty, and to furnifh you with fnxe motives of determination in fuch cafw, is the fcopc THE VALUE OF THINGS. 471 fcope of my prefent addrefs. Accordingly, I mean to anfwer the queftion in our text : " There be many that fay. Who will fhew us any good,** or What is good, What is the befl: on every occafion ? We have already, at various opportunities, poized the value of the principal objeds that relate to hu- man happinefs, or fuch as are generally thought to belong to it. We have inveftigated the worth and excellence of life, of health, of riches, of honour, of fenfual, of intelledual pleafure, of piety, of virtue, of devotion, of religion, of public worfhip ; we have examined the advantages of folitary, of focial, of bufy, of rural life, of domeflic happinefs, of friend- fhip, of liberty, of learning, and others ; and we have found that they all in and for themfelves deferve our regard and efteem, that they all more or lefs contri- bute to our happinefs, Let us now compare thefe things together, or fee which of them welhouldpre- fer to the other, which we ought to facrifice or re- linquifh for the fake of the other, when we cannot obtain or pofTefs them at once., Wouldfl thou pro^ ceed fafely i|i thy choice, my chriftian brother, then let the following rules and decifive arguments be the guides of thy conduct, In the firft place, prefer the neceflary to the agree-, able and convenient. That is the foundation of happinefs ; this a part of the ftrudure thou art to eredl upon it. Of that thou canft not be deprived, without being miferable ; the want of this only tffens thy profperity and thy pleafure, It i$ ^gree-, " H 4 able 472 RULES FOR APPRETIATING able to increafe riches and to live in opulence : but neceflary to have an unfullied confcience, and not to need be afhamed before God or man. It is agree? able to be efteemed by all men ; but neceffary tp be aflured of the good pleafure of Gcd, and to be fatisfied with one's felf. It is agreeable to acquire a various and extenfive knowledge of all that can con? tent and gratify the inquifitive mind ; but neceffary to be concerned about acquiring folid notions of the affairs of our flation and calling. It is agreeable to form various conneclions with many other people, and to enlarge our fphere of adion ; but neceffary confcientioufly to comply with the demands of the clofer connexions in which we ftand, as parents, as fpoufes, as citizens, and to be aftive and ufeful in the narrower circle wherein providence has placed us. It is agreeable to live long, and in the enjoyment of a vigorous health j but neceffary to live virtuoufly and pioufly and generally ufeful. It is agreeable to be decked with outward diftin£lions, and to be fur? rounded with a certain fplendour -, but neceffary tq acquire intrinfic perfedion, and to provide for its conftant improvement. It is convenient to be free from all Idnds of conffraint, to follow one's inclina- tions of every fort, to have others at one's fervice, and to divide one's time between pleafure and repofe; but neceffary to difcharge faithfully the duties of our flation and calling, and to repay, by reciprocal fer- vice, the fervices we receive from fociety. All the former we may difpenfe with, and not be unhappy i, but THE VALUE OF THINGS. 473 but with the latter not. Prefer, therefore, in sll cafes, what is neceflary, that without which thou canfl not be happy, to what is merely agreeable and convenient, what merely in certain refpefts increafes or raifes thy happinefs ; prefer a good confcience to all riches ; the being well-pleafmg to God, to all human applaufe j the knowledge neceflary to thy poft and calling, to every other kind, of knowledge ; thy domeflic and civil ccnneciions and relationfliips, to all other connections and relationfliips ; a vir- tuous and generally ufeful, to the longed and hcal- thieft life v/ithout virtue and general utility ; thy intrinfic perfeftion, to all outward diftindions ; thy duty, to all conveniences and independency : be ready to facrifice all thefe with joy whenever thou art obliged to chufe between them. The former are neceflary and eflcntial to thy happinefs ; of the latter thou canfl; be deprived and yet be happy. Prize, farther, if thou wouldfl; rightly judge and ichufe, prize thofe benefits and advantages which thou hafl: .thyfclf acquired as the confequences and recompence of thy wife and good behaviour, at a much higher rate than fuch as have fallen to thee, without thy procuring and without thy defert, bv means of feme favourable concurrence of outward things ; even though they may be in and for them- felves far greater and more brilliant than the former. A moderate livelihood, that thou hail earned by pru- dence and honed fl<:ill, by afliduity and labour, is of far more value than the greateft riches thou had in- herited, 474- RULES FOR APPRETIATING herlted, or haft acquired by any fortunate occurrence. The loweft dignity, the moft inconfiderable import- ance, to which thou art raifed by thy own abihties, and the fervices thou hafl rendered to fociety, con- fers upon thee more real honour than all the luflre accruing to thee, however great, by birth, or that can reverberate upon thee from the high and mighty with whom thou art connected. The advantages of mind and heart, which thou mayeft confider as the fruit of thy virtuous efforts, of thy unremitted ftrug- gles after higher perfection, fhould be dearer to thee than all the gifts and talents, though never fo great, for which thou art indebted to nature or the firfl ru- diments of education. The teftimony of a goo(J confcience, founded on the inward fentiment of thy integrity, and the recompence of thy blamelefs and prudent conduct, ihouid be of more account with thee than the flattering approbation and the loudefl applaufe of men, who feldom know thee thoroughly, and, who for the mod part, judge more from fem^ blance than from reality. The efleem and affedion {hewn thee on thy own account, on account of what thou actually art and doft, which is bellowed upon thee as an intelligent and good perfon, as a ufeful member of fociety, fnould be of far more worth to thee than the profoundefl reverence paid thee on account of thy quality, thy office, or thy wealth, For all the goods and diftinclions that accrue to thee more from thyfelf than from fortune, thou eanfl neither obtain nor preferve without the ufe and application THE VALUE OF THINGS. 475 application of thy nobler capacities and powers, with- out becoming a<5lually wifer and better, and more perfect ; and this wifdom, this moral benefit, this perfection, remains with thee for ever, abides by thee €ven when thou haft loft all thofe outward goods and privileges, when thou pafieft over into a ftate wherein they will no longer avail, and ceafe to have any worth. Prefer, thirdly, my chriftian brother, who wouldft form a right judgment of the goods, the pleafures, the advantages of this life, of what belongs or is deemed to belong to human happinefs, and wouldft chufe from amongft thefe things like a wife man, prefer what is in thy power to thofe things which depend not on thee, but purely on outward circum- flances and accidental caufes. After the former thou wilt not ftrive in vain ; they are what thou mayft affuredly, thou mayft conftantly have and enjoy: whereas, in purfuit of the latter, thou wilt frequently throw away thy time and dijfTipate thy faculties, and wilt never be fure of their continuance. It is in thy power to maintain the command over thyfelf, to {hake off the yoke of error, of prejudice, and of moral fervitude ; but it depends not on thee whether thou fhalt rule over others, or be in fubferviency to them; whether thou ihalt fill the poft of com- mander, or that of a fubordinate. It is in thy pov, er. by a wife and chriftian temper, to acquire the blefied- jaefs of a ferene and contented heart ; but it depends jiot on thee to enjoy the boon of wealth, of might, or 47^ RULES FOR APPRETIATING or of exalted ftation. It is in thy power to cultivate thy mind, to purify and to improve thy heart j but it depends not on thee to render thy outward cir- cumftances as flourifhing and brilliant as thou couldft "vvifli. It is in thy power to do what thy flation and caUing exatl, with confcioufnefs and integrity ; but it depends not on thee to cSgO: fo much good by it about thee, and to have fo much influence on the general welfare, as thou fain wouldft. It is in thy power to diftinguifh thyfelf above others by fmcerity and virtue ; but it depends not always on thee to exalt thyfelf over them by extraordinary talents and endowments, or by peculiar merits. It is in thy power to enjoy the complacency of God, thy fove- reign ruler and judge, and to rejoice in his favour; but it depends not on thee to obtain the applaufe of thy contemporaries, or to fecure the favour of the great and powerful of the earth. It is in thy power to gain the love of thy fellow-creatures by gentlenefs, kindnefs, and beneficence ; but it depends not on thee to be honoured, admired, or promoted by them, or even to be eiLcemed and rewarded according to thy defert. It is, finally, in thy power to live virtu- ouily and piouily, and thus to prepare thyfelf for a fuperior Hate ; but it depends not on thee to perform a great and Ihining part on the theatre of this world, or to attain to the extremeft pinnacle of the age of man. Wafte not, therefore, thy time and thy abili- ties in driving after goods, after eminencies, after pleafures, that depend not on thee, and which as often THE VALUE OF THINGS. 477 Dften and ftlll oftener fall to the lot of thofe who have never fought nor deferved them, than to fuch as have earned them, and to whom they are due : but apply them to what is in thy power ; fo wilt thou never employ them in vain, and thy aim, thy felicity, will infallibly be thy reward. Prefer, fourthly, if thou wouldfl: judicioufly deter- mine between the objefts that relate to human hap- pinefs, or are reckoned of that number, prefer ac- tivity to reft. Reft, inaftive reft, is properly only defeat, only limitation, only the efFecl and indication of weal^nefs, Adivity alone is life, is enjoyment, is happinefs. The more adive thou art, and the more prudent, the more beneficial thy activity is ; fo much the more perfed art thou, fo much the more doft: thou refemble the deity. Wilt thou then triumph in exiftence, wilt thou be happy, and happy in an eminent degree ; then ft rive not after reft as thy obje^:, but enjoy Jt only as the means to greater ac- tivity ; and prefer always that which occupies thy faculties in a proportionate degree, and which pro- mifes thee recompence and enjoyment after labour .jand toil, to that which leaves thy powers unem- ployed, which lulls thee into floth, and promifes thee pleafure or beiaefit that cofts thee nothing. Think therefore for thyfelf, and decline not ftudy and re. iearch, rather than barely let others think for thee, and fimply repofe in their opinions and decifions. Rather labour thyfelf, and by labouring exercife thy talents, ihm merely let others labour for thee, and enjoy the fruits 47^ RULES FOR APPRETIATING fruits of their labours in indolent repofe. Prefer a bufy mode of life, an office, a truft, that keeps thy mind in greater activity, and leaves thee little lei- fure, to any other mode of life, to any other charge that employs thee but little, or not at all, even though this be far more profitable and confiderable than the other. Prize the pleafure that is the na- tural fruit of thy refledion and induflry, that thou haft purchafed with labour and toil, in the fv^^eat of thy brow, lar before any other prefented thee by chance, and which thou mayft fmiply enjoy, with- out any previous preparation and any defert of thy own. The former will render thee far more per- 'fed, far more contented and happy, than the latter; and no endeavours, no toil is loft, whidft conduces to this end ; but thou wilt find it gain, and gain ftill abiding with thee, when the languor of inactive re- pofe, and its furfeiting enjoyment, leaves thee no- thing but melancholy refleftions behind. Wouldft thou, fifthly, my chriftian brother, learn rightly to deem of the goods, the privileges, the pieafures, that conftitute human happinefs, or are reputed to do fo, and wouldft chufe be- tween them as a prudent man; then prefer the in- telleftual to the fenfual, that which renders thy fpirit more contented and perfect, to what procures thee pleafure and delight by means of thy fenfes alone, or promotes thy outv/ard welfare. Animal life, health, and vigour of body, abundance of eaiihly go., is, are undoubtedly defireable things; I but THE VALUE OF THINGS. 479 but intellectual life, health and vigour of mind, riches in knowledge, in wifdom and virtue, are far, far more defireable. The former may as eafily be- come prejudicial as profitable to us ; may as pro- bably render us wretched as happy, and a thoufand accidents may deprive us of them ; thefe are and conflantly remain fubftantial goods ; can never be pernicious to us ; but render us continually and for ever happy. The former are without us, belong not neceffarily to ourfelves ; are only conneded with us for a longer or a fhorter time : thefe belong cflentially to felf, are indilTolubly conneded with us, and fubfifb as long as we ourfelves fubfift. Never hefitate, then, to facrifice the health of thy body to the health and the hfe of thy foul, the riches that confifl in gold and filver to the riches of wifdom and virtue, thy outward circumftances to thy inward perfe£lion, if thou art obliged to chufe from between them, if thou canfl not pofTefs and preferve them to- gether. The former are only the occafions, the means of happinefs : thefe are happinefs itfelf. Be- ware of preferring the means to the end, or of driv- ing as earneftly after them as after thefe. Station, rank, might and authority, are certainly brilliant diftindions; but a cultivated underftanding, pre- ferved integrity, uncorrupted faith, pious, chriftian difpofitions, a pure heart, a blamelefs, beneficent life, greater fimilarity to Jefus, greater fimilarity to God, are far, far more valuable diftinaions. The jformer belong to thy outward condition, and change imme- 480 RULES FOR APPRETIATING immediately with it : thefe adorn thy fpirit, Jtnd arey like thyfelf, immortal. Let not them then, but thefe' be the ultimate aim of thy endeavours and defires. Senfual pleafures are undoubtedly real pleafures, and, uhen they are moderate and harmlefs, are worthy of thy wiflies and thy proportionate endea- vours : but far purer, far nobler ftill are the plea- fures of the mind and the heart; the pleafure which the knowledge of truth procures, the difcharge of our duty, beneficence towards our brethren, ad- vancement in goodnefs, communion with God, and gladnefs in him, the animating profpeft of a better life. The former we hold in common with the beaf[:s of the field ; the latter conned us with fu- perior exiflences^ and with the deity himfelf. Thofe frequently leave heavinefs, difgufl, and pain behind them ; thefe are as beneficial as innocent, and never lofe of their value nor their fweets. Therefore let them not hinder thee in the acquifition and enjoy- ment of thefe ; let not fenfuality, but reafon, be thy guide in the feledion of thy pleafures ; prize that which fatisfies and chears thy mind and thy heart far above all that flatters thy fenfes ; and make no hefitation to offer up thefe when thou canfl not en- joy them both. So wilt thou prefer reality to ap- pearance, the eflential to the agreeable, and fix thy happinefs on a foUd bafis. Wouldfl thou, in the lafl place, rightly appretiate th^ advantages, the pleafures that relate to human happinefs, and difcreetly chufe between them, in cafes tHE VALUE OF THINGS. 48 1 tafes where they cannot fubfift together ; then pre- fer the durable to the tranfient, the eternal to the temporal. Thou wifheft, not merely for a few days or years, thou wifhefl to be happy for ever. Seek therefore thy happinefs, not in what lafts only for a few days or years, and then vanifhes away ; feek it principally in fuch objedls as are unfading and ever permanent. All outward things, that now favour and pleafe and delight thee, are tranfitory, and of fhort duration ; only thy inward perfedlion, the per- fedion of thy fpirit, remains for ever. What is more uncertain than the pofTeffion of riches ? What more tranfient than earthly elevation, than the re- fpe£t and the honour of men ? What is more de- ceitful than their favour ? What more fleeting and vain than fenfual pleafure ? What more perifhable than health and flrength, than life itfelf ? To what accidents, what changes and revolutions, are not all thefe advantages and polfeffions liable ? Who can confide in them but for a year, but for a day, but for an hour, with perfed affurance ? And how in- evitable is, fooner or later, their total lofs ! Nothing of them all will remain with thee in death and in the grave ; nothing of all thefe will accompany thee into eternity; nothing of all thefe will retain even the fmallefl value in that better world to which thou art haftening ! No, thither thou wilt be only at- ^nded by thy intelledlual advantages, thy good dif- pofitions and actions j there nothing will avail thee except wifdom, virtue, integrity, a found under- voL. II. ' 11 (landing. 482 RULES FOR APPRETIATING (landing, a well regulated heart, and a happy alacrity in the exercife of juflice and mercy. Thefe alone are lading advantages and pofieffions ; advantages and poiTelHons that are not fubjecl to the viciflltudes of things, which neither death nor the grave can ra- vifh from thee. If thou leam here to think ration- ally and nobly ; if thou learn here to govern thyfelf, to conquer thy lulls j if thou learn here to ufe all thy faculties and capacities according to his will who gave them to thee^ and to the good of thy brother ; if thou learn to love God above all things, and thy neighbour as thyfelf; if thou acquire here an abun- dant, eifedive inclination to all that is right and good, to all that is beautiful and great ; if thou niake at prefent the difcharge of thy duty thy joy, and beneficence thy pleafure : then art thou happy, and wilt remain fo for ever, even though thou art neither rich, nor great, nor powerful, nor healthy, nor vigorous, nor of long life. Oh never forget tlien that all vifible things, however brilliant and charming, are tranfient, and only remain for a little while ; but that thy mind is immortal, that thy fu- ture deflination is great, that this life is only a pre- paration for a higher, and that therefore, in regard to thy real felicity, thy whole concern is this, that thou advance the perfedion of thy mind, anfwer to thy grand deflination, and render thyfelf capable and worthy of that fuperior life. And thefe, my pious hearers, are the decifive reafons, thefe the rules that fhould guide us* in our judgment THE VALUE OF THINGS. 483 judgment and our choice of the objects which relate to human happinefs, or are fo reputed, and will cer- tainly guide us aright. If, in regard to all the goods, the affairs, the advantages, the pleafures and joys of this life, we prefer the neceflary to the mere- ly convenient and agreeable, what we acquire by re- flexion and Ikill to what accident and fortune be- llow, what is in our power to what does not depend upon us ; if we prefer activity to reft, the fpiritual to the fenfible, the lafting to the tranfient, and eternals to temporals : then fhall we make no ftep in vain on the way that leads to happinefs, and as certainly lay our hand on the glorious prize, as we purfue that way. II 2 SERMON XLIX. The Vanity of all earlbiy Things /^\ GOD, the inexhaiiilible fountain of being, of ^^ life, of happinefs, thee we adore in the pro- founded humlHty as the One Eternal and Immuta- ble; and the 'thought of thee, our creator and fa- ther, prevents us, even under the deepeft conviftion of our vanity and the vanity of all earthly things, from being fpiritlefs and dejeded. Yes, we feel that we are extremely feeble and frail, and that all that furrounds us, is as weak and tranfitory as our- felves. By every day that we pafs we approach nearer the term of our courfe, and with it the mo- ment, when every thing vifible vaniflies from our view and finks into night. 1'hough here thou con- ferreft on us many bleffmgs, many fatisfaftions and pleafures ; yet their pofleflion is extremely uncer- tain, their enjoyment is but of fliort duration. No- thing THE VANITY OF EARTHLY THINGS. 485 thing could confole us amidfl this manifold vIcifTi- tude, nothing fatisfy our minds ever panting after happinefs, were* we unacquainted with thee and thy gracious difpofitions towards us, did we not believe and know that thou art goodnefs and love from everlafting to everlaRing. Yes, in this fentlment we have a firm, immovable ground of ferenity and con- tent. By thee we are, by thee we fubfifl, by thee we already enjoy innumerable benefits, and by thee we may hope to continue eternally and to be eter- nally happy. Oh might this grand, this blefled fen- timent be conftantly prefent to us ; miglit it be cur guide, our teacher, our comforter on every path of our lives ! How juftly fhould we not then judge of all things, how wifely ufe all things, how fafely and confidently proceed to our deilination ! Oh teach us then to hold the things of this world for what they are, to moderate our wifhes ^nd defires in re- gard to them, and to look more <^t the invifible than at the vifible. Blefs likewife to the promotion of thefe views the meditations we are now about to begin. Lead us to know thp truth, aad by the knowledge of it to become wife and blelfed. We implore it of thee with filial confidence, as the votaries of Jefus ; and, repofing a firm faith in his promiies, farther acjdrefs thee, faying : Our father, &c, JU 486 THE VANITY OF EARTHLY THINGS. ECCLES. 1. 2. Vanity of vanitits, faith the preacher, varvity of vanities, all is vanitv. OOME truths there are which e\'ery perfon allows *^ to be as certain as they are important : and yet, in regard of mofl men, are as barren and unfruitful as if they deemed them trifles, or doubtfu} hypo- thefes. We ought not to be furpri^ed at this. Man, corrupted man, is a creature feldoin con- fident with himfelf, and whofe a£tions are gene- rally in contradi£lion to his knowledge. Whence does this arife? He hardly flops at common notions, which, becaufe they are common, affedl him but little, or even not at all. He lofes himfelf amidft the prodigious multitude of the objects to which they relate. He gives himfelf no concern about the particular relation every truth has to him and his moral fituation, knowing beforehand that fuch in- vefligations mufl end in his humiliation, his con- fufion, his embarrafTment, and his difquiet. — Who doubts, (that J may explain what I advance by a fa- miliar example), who doubts for a moment about the vanity of all earthly things ? Who does not bcr lieve that our lives are uncertain and fliort j that all the pre-eminences, poflelTions and pleafurfes of the earth. THE VANITY OF EARTHLY THINGS. 487 earth, are frail and tranfient ; and that, at length, the figure of this world pafles away ? But, does the acquiefcence that all men give to thefe truths produce the fruits of virtue and piety it is fo na- turally adapted to bring forth ? Does it, in general, render them humble, and heavenly minded ? Does it moderate their attachment and love for that which is vifible and tranfitory ? Does it teach them to make a faithful and confcientious ufe of the advan- tages which God has given them, and of the inefti- mable time he affords them ? Does it infpire them with a true zeal in providing for futurity, and in- duce them to prepare for that never-ending life, to which they are eveiy hour, ever)'^ moment approach- ing ? Does it move them to hold fuch a conduct as becomes the citizens of heaven and the candidates for a bleffed immortality ? No, the moft woeful ex- perience demonftrates the reverfe. Thefe truths are fufficiently believed ; but they are not thought upon with ftedfaftnefs and frequency enough ; they are too foon loft fight of; they are fpmetimes purpofely banifhed from the mind ; at leaft, we do not often with fufficient attention and impartiality turn our re« fledions on ourfelves and our conduct : and hence it arifes, that we feel not their falutary influence, . — I conceive it, therefore, my duty, pious hearers, to admonifli you and myfelf of thefe truths ; and to devote the prefent moments to the fubje