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 C. K. OGDEN
 
 [ORAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL 
 
 STIMATES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 JTATE AND FACULTIES 
 
 O F 
 
 M 
 
 AND OF THE 
 
 NATURE AND SOURCES 
 
 O F 
 
 UMAN HAPPINESS. 
 
 SERIES OF DIDACTIC LECTURES, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 [NTED FOR B. WHITE AND SON, AT 
 HORACE'S HEAD, FLEET-STREET, 
 MDCCLXXXIX.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 AS thefe lectures were delivered 
 occafionally, and not in the order they 
 here follow on each other ; fo even 
 now the whole circuit and aflbciation 
 of them is not fo clofely compacted 
 as it might have been, had fuch an ar- 
 rangement been previoufly defigneJ. 
 Hence the author conceives it not un* 
 likely that fome readers may obferve 
 at leaft two defects in the work be- 
 fore them ; one with regard to the 
 completenefs of the whole, and the 
 other to the connection of the fubjecls. 
 a 3 He
 
 He prefumes, however, that thefe two 
 deficiencies do not eflentially affect 
 the undertaking. . If every thing what- 
 ever that relates to human happinefs, 
 or is reckoned as pertaining to it, be 
 not fpecifically and exprefsly handled ; 
 yet no kind or clafs of thefe matters 
 is abfolutely overlooked. And the 
 order or fucceffion of them may the 
 more ealily be changed by every per- 
 fon, according to his mind, as they 
 are all diftincl: and feparate treatifes. 
 He does not fo much pretend to have 
 a complete fyftem of the doctrine of 
 happinefs, as to have difcufled the 
 moft important articles belonging to 
 it ; and he did his utmoft to treat his 
 /ubje&s in fuch a manner as was beft 
 adapted to a thinking, and, for the 
 moft part, an enlightened audience. 
 This laft circumftance will plead in 
 
 his
 
 his behalf, whenever fome pafTages 
 may appear more philofophicai and 
 abftra&ed than ufual. He had the 
 happinefs to addrefs himfelf to hearers, 
 who, in general, were fully com- 
 petent to fuch difquifitions, and could 
 turn them to account. The more 
 rare this happinefs is, the lefs ex- 
 cufable would he have been, had he 
 difcourfed to them as to children, 
 and not always endeavoured to lead 
 them to farther advances in know- 
 ledge. And there can certainly be 
 no harm in it, if the doctrines of re- 
 ligion and morality are delivered in 
 various ways; and, at times, even fo 
 as that men, more addi(fted to reflec- 
 tion, may be taken and fatisfied with 
 them, Experience, however, has 
 taught him, that even people of 
 more {lender knowledge, and of in- 
 a 4 ferior
 
 ferior cultivation, learn more from 
 fuch difcourfes, fo foon as they ceafe 
 to be ftrange to them, than from 
 others, compofed in a Hebrew-Englifh 
 dialed, and nicely fitted to the fcho- 
 laftic fyftem, on which, mod com- 
 monly, they never beftovv one thought. 
 Indeed difcourfes in general need not 
 always operate immediately on the 
 fpot, as in the cafe of charitable col- 
 lections, but fliould be calculated to 
 produce permanent effects on perfons 
 not totally ignorant, and incapable of 
 making reflections of their own. Let 
 a man preach to thefe as he will, 
 though they mould not perhaps take 
 in the whole fcope of the difcourfe at 
 one view, or even do not form to 
 themlelves clear conceptions of any 
 of its parts that are of coniiderable 
 length ; yet, here or there, they will 
 4 com-
 
 ( fr ) 
 
 comprehend fame detached matter or 
 other, fome thought that ftrikes them, 
 and will probably recollect it again as 
 occafions offer and. if only fo much 
 as this be effected, and that frequently, 
 then muft they be always confiderable 
 gainers by it. 
 
 Should feveral of the fubjefts here 
 treated of appear to others not cle- 
 rical, or not theological and biblical 
 enough ; in regard to the former, the 
 author intreats them to conflder, that 
 every clergyman has his own circle 
 of hearers, and that thefe hearers have 
 their own perfonal exigencies ; and, 
 in refpecl to the latter, to weigh in 
 their own minds whether any thing 
 that relates fo nearly to human per- 
 fection and happinefs, can be either 
 untheological or unbiblical. To the 
 
 author
 
 author at leaft, every truth is a reli- 
 gious and biblical truth, that has for 
 its object the fubftantial improvement 
 and the lading happinefs of mankind; 
 though it mould not, as it were, im- 
 mediately relate to God and to the 
 future world, and is no where ex- 
 prefsly and fcientincally treated of in 
 the Bible, which prefuppofes many 
 things, which but {lightly touches 
 upon others in few words, and leaves 
 the farther developement and applica- 
 tion of all to ourfelves, or which even 
 delivers the very fame things in a dif- . 
 ferent phrafeology. The force of the 
 fcriptural doclriiles by no means lies 
 in the words wherein they were an- 
 tiently promulgated to the Jews and 
 the Heathens, but in the truth and 
 the importance of the doctrines them- 
 felves. Thus, as the civilization, the 
 
 language,
 
 language, the manners and cuftoms, the 
 mode of thinking and of living, the 
 circumference of human knowledge 
 and of human exigencies, undergo al- 
 teration ; fo alfo may and mould, not 
 indeed the eiTentials, but the com- 
 pafs, the application, and the way of 
 delivering the doctrines of religion and 
 wifdom be altered and adapted. In 
 the article of the Chriftian paftoral 
 office, which is the laft in this collec- 
 tion, the author has more circumftan- 
 tially explained himfelf upon this 
 fubject. 
 
 For the reft, the greater the import- 
 ance of a right eftimation of things, 
 and the ftronger the certainty of the 
 fact, that it is the foundation of all 
 real? virtue and piety, and the furefr. 
 way to happinefs both in the prefent 
 
 and
 
 am} the future life, fo much the het- 
 ter grounded is the hope, that, under 
 the bleffing pf God, this labour may 
 not be without its ufe 
 
 CON-
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF TH E 
 
 FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Eftimate Page 
 
 J. Wherein the Dignity of Man con- 
 
 M*. l 
 
 II. What is in Oppojition to the Dig- 
 nity of Man. . 33 
 
 III. How and by what Means Chrif- 
 
 tianity rejlores tbe Dignity of 
 
 Man. 67 
 
 IV. *fhe Value of Human Life. 99 
 V. The Value of Health. 129 
 
 VI. The Value of Riches. . 163 
 
 VII. Tbe Value of Honour. . 193 
 VIII. ^he Value ofSenfual Pkafure, 224 
 
 IX. Tbe Value of Spiritual Pleafurcs. 261 
 X. The Value of Devotion* 295 
 
 ESTI-
 
 ESTIMATE I. 
 
 WHEREIN 
 
 THE 
 
 DIGNITY OF MAN 
 
 CONSISTS. 
 
 Thou haft made him a little lower than the angels, 
 and haft crowned him with glory and honour. 
 
 Pfalm viii. 5. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 C 3 3 
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN 
 
 CONSISTS. 
 
 TV /TAN may be confidered two different 
 -*^-*- ways. In one we find him a very 
 limited being ; feeble and defective. Lit- 
 tle fuperior, at beft, to the beafts of the 
 field, in many refpects he feems below 
 them : more circumfcribed, more im- 
 potent, more unhappy than they. Con- 
 iidered in another light, he difcovers the 
 fairefl difpofitions, and the greateft ca- 
 pacities. Look at the effects of his ex- 
 ternal force ; they indicate a being far 
 more elevated than the inanimate or the 
 animal creation. He performs adtions 
 B 2 which
 
 4 WH E R E I N T H E D I G N ITY 
 
 which excite and deferve univerfal admira- 
 tion -, but the operations and produc- 
 tions of his mind, give demonflrations of 
 his affinity with the Father of Spirits, and 
 prove him to be, in the higheft fenfe of 
 the word, the fon of GOD. 
 
 Conlidered on one fide, human nature 
 appears an object of compaffion. And 
 they who thus view it, take all poffible 
 pains to difmay us by derifion, by repre- 
 fenting our pretenfions to dignity as the 
 fancies of a foolim pride. On the other 
 fide, man feems to merit the greateft efteern 
 and veneration. And fuch as regard him 
 in this light, exalt him far above all fur- 
 rounding creatures, make him capable of 
 every excellence, and fitted for the higheft 
 grandeur. 
 
 Now, which way lhall we contemplate 
 
 man ? Doubtlefs, we Ihould ftudy and un- 
 
 derftand him in both, if we would judge 
 
 a rightly
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 
 
 rightly of the ends for which he was made; 
 if we would neither be rafh through pride* 
 nor difheartened by eonfcious abatement. 
 
 It feems to me, however, as if human 
 nature was not frequently enough con- 
 fidered on its fair and advantageous fide ; 
 though it fhould oftener be fo than on the 
 other. Limitations* weaknefies, defeats, 
 and imperfections, never allow themfelves 
 to be forgotten ; the fentiment of them is 
 too painful, and too importunate, and their 
 baneful influence on our felicity is too 
 multiform and too apparent for us to deny 
 But talents that are not drawn forth, fa- 
 culties that are not exerted, abilities that 
 are not exhibited in action, or only operate 
 in filence and obfcurity, may eafily be over- 
 looked, may eafily be neglected. And 
 then there is a vaft difference between thefe 
 two fides, both in fcope and duration. In* 
 firmities, weakneffes, and imperfections* 
 which may be often corrected, and which 
 B 3 may,
 
 6 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 may, in part at leaft, be removed ; which 
 belong not fo efTentially to human nature, 
 deferve not therefore fo much attention, as 
 capacities, and faculties, and prerogatives, 
 which not only at prefent carry importance 
 with them, but go with us into eternity, 
 and conflantly effect greater perfection, 
 and more exaked happinefs. Certainly 
 then the man that accuftoms himfelf to 
 confider human nature, rather on this fide 
 than the other, will judge more rightly, 
 think far more nobly, act far better and 
 more virruoufly, than he who fuffers the 
 fentiment of his meannefs and imperfec- 
 tions to be ever before him. Well then ; 
 we will chufe the reprefentation that pro- 
 mifes us the moft advantage and the 
 greateft happinefs. 
 
 We will confider the dignity of man; 
 I have difcourfed to you of it before. Oft 
 have I encouraged you to the fentiment and 
 the eftimation of it. But, perhaps, this 
 
 com-
 
 OFM AN CONSISTS. 7 
 
 comprehenfive term has not always excited 
 the cleareft reprefentations in your mind. 
 We will now more diftindtly difcrimirtate 
 the principal matters wherein it confifts. 
 
 By the dignity of man, we are, in ge- 
 neral, to underftand, whatever is eminently 
 great and honourable in his nature, his 
 iituation, and his vocation ; all that gives 
 him a confcious value in the fight of God 
 and of all rational beings. A dignity 
 which is grounded on his intrinfically no- 
 .ble and generous fentiments, his privileges 
 and his powers, and the peculiar manner 
 wherein he difplays the excellency of his 
 intelled and his power of a&ion. A dig- 
 nity which forces from us fome fuch ex- 
 clamations to the Deity a"s thofe of the 
 Pfalmift : " Thou haft made him little, 
 lower than the angels, and haft crowned 
 him with glory and honour !" 
 
 B 4 Wherein,
 
 8 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 Wherein, then, does the dignity of man 
 confift ; or what gives him the dignity he 
 has ? And how, and by what means does 
 he exhibit his dignity ; or what occafions 
 it in him, and what produces it forth ? > 
 Thefe are the principal queftions we have 
 now to anfwer. 
 
 Underftanding, freedom, aftivity, an 
 always progreffive perfe&ion, immortality ^ 
 the regard wherein he ftands towards GOD, 
 and towards his fon Jefus, the jftation he 
 fills on the earth, and what he does in re- 
 gard to all thefe : this compofes the dig- 
 nity of man ; this gives him his principal 
 value. 
 
 Man is enobled by underftanding and 
 reafon* This is the firft and chief ground 
 of his dignity. This exalts him far above 
 all the other creatures of the earth. By 
 this he is in relationlhip with fpiritual 
 beings ; by this he takes his flight to the re- 
 gions
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. # 
 
 gions above, and foars to the feat of GOD. 
 He is neither altogether material nor alto- 
 gether fpirit ; not, like the beafts of the 
 field, attached to the earth ; not incapa- 
 ble, like them, of refilling the impreffion 
 of external things. He can lift up his 
 eyes on high, and roam in fpirit above 
 terreflrial and vifible objects ; he can in- 
 .veftigate himfelf ; diftinguifli himfelf from 
 every thing around him, and fecern his 
 thoughts from that which thinks within 
 him, can difcriminate the prefent from the 
 future in the conceptions of his mind : has 
 an inward and clear confcioufnefs of his 
 exiftence, and his actions ; can inquire into 
 the caufes and motives of events, invefli- 
 gate their proportion and affinity to each 
 other, examine their connections and con- 
 fequences ; and, from what he knows and 
 fees, can judge in a thoufand cafes of 
 what he knows and fees not. And how 
 compreheniive is his intellect ! How far 
 does his reafon venture, and how often 
 does it fucceed in its boldeft refearches ! 
 
 Who
 
 tO WHEREIN THE DIGttlTr 
 
 Who can relate the numbcrlefs images, 
 judgments, conclusions, remarks, and ob- 
 fervations which arife in the human mind, 
 which aflbciate, concatenate, or interweave 
 themfelves during its ihort fojourn on this 
 terreflial globe, and fupply it with matter 
 for everlafting reflections ? And what is 
 there in the heaven above, or in the earth 
 beneath, in the Tea, and in all deep places, 
 in the vifible or the invifible world, in the 
 region of poffibilities and action, in the 
 obfcurity of the paft, and in the night of 
 the future, what is there that the curiofity 
 of the human fpirit does not ftrive to pof- 
 fefs, that its powers cannot frame, that it 
 does not endeavour to know, to fathom 
 and to explain, that it does not long to 
 compare or to combine with what it al- 
 ready knows ? Allow that it frequently 
 miftakes, that it often takes appearances 
 for truth, that it difcovers and knows com- 
 paratively but little, that in more than one 
 refpeft it is totally ignorant : yet, who can 
 fail of perceiving the value of what it really 
 
 does
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. II 
 
 does know and reach, by its faculties? who 
 the ftill greater value of its inceflant en- 
 deavours after what it knows not yet, and 
 cannot reach ? Who can deny the dignity 
 it receives from hence ? 
 
 
 Freedom, moral freedom, is another 
 oharacteriilic of man; another fource of 
 his dignity. While the fun, the moon, 
 the flars, and all the hofl of heaven, me- 
 chanically execute their unknown laws, 
 and roll about in the regions of fpace; 
 while the animals blindly purfue their irre- 
 fiftible impulfes, and are entirely depen- 
 dent on impreffions from without ; man is 
 not abfolutely fubjede'd to thofe laws, nor 
 obliged by thefe inilinds. He can con- 
 troul, alter or decline thefe laws in a thou- 
 fand different ways, in regard to his affec- 
 tions , and actions: he can withstand, or 
 totally furmouqt thefe inftin<fts. He can 
 confider, compare, felecl, conclude, ex- 
 ecute his refolves, or reliaquim and 
 
 change 
 
 3
 
 12 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 change them for others. He diilinguifhes 
 .truth from error^ good from bad, and 
 lemblance from reality ; fuffers not himfelf 
 to be impofed on by a dazzling outfide, a 
 deceitful luftfe, a defireable^ or terrific ap- 
 pearance : he flops not at the prefent mo- 
 ment ; fees to the remoteft confequences of 
 things ; and is neither neceffitated blindly 
 to truft to the informations of his fenfes, 
 nor implicitly to follow his feelings as they 
 arife. He chufes and does that which he 
 finds to be right and good, and beft for the" 
 occaiion ; he rejects and avoids that which 
 he holds to be unjuft and bafe, or produc- 
 tive of harm ; and directs himfelf in his 
 choice and his conduct, by the fagacity of 
 his intellect, and by the light of his reafon. 
 This fagacity indeed may often deceive 
 him ; this light may fometimes lead him 
 wrong. But then the way is not fhut to 
 his return. He can difcover the deceit, be 
 aware of his error, repent of his miftake, 
 alter his conduct, and learri by thefe fad 
 
 experiences,
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 1 3 
 
 experiences, to a<ft more prudently and 
 more cautiouily for the future. He thus 
 guides, directs, and governs himfelf ac- 
 cording to the circumftances of external 
 things. Thus is he neither a rotatory 
 being in the fyft m of the world, nor the 
 ilave of his own judgement, nor the fport 
 of outward caufes and events. Thus he 
 does nothing but what he wills, and no- 
 thing can compell him to will any thing 
 but what he at that time holds for the beft. 
 And what a high privilege does this give 
 him over all the inanimate as well as the 
 merely feniitive but irrational creation ! 
 What importance, what dignity muft all 
 his conclusions and actions acquire from 
 hence, that they are peculiarly his own re- 
 folutions, his own actions, the principles, 
 aims, connftency, and connection whereof 
 he knows, and can give an account of to 
 himfelf and to others ! How much more 
 valuable muft one fingle good action of a 
 man be, than the whole benign influence 
 
 of
 
 14 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 of the fun, unconfcious of itfelf and of 
 all its effects diffufed throughout the fyf*. 
 tern. 
 
 Activity, the moft diverfified, the moft 
 indefatigable activity, is a third charac- 
 teriftic of man, a third fource of his dig- 
 nity. Indeed every thing in nature is in- 
 ceffandy moving ; the inanimate as well as 
 the living, the animal no lefs than the ra- 
 tional world. Every thing has force, and 
 all force effects what it can and mufl pro- 
 duce. Perfect inactivity, immoveable floth, 
 compleat death, feem to be excluded from 
 the creation of GOD. But where fhall we 
 find greater and more diverfified activity 
 than in man ? And where activity, with 
 confcioufnefs, with reflection, and defign, 
 but in him ? When does the human fpirit 
 ceafe from thinking ? And how rapidly, 
 how innumerably do its thoughts fucceed 
 each other ! When does it ceafe from pro- 
 ducing revolutions within and without? 
 
 How
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 15 
 
 How much good, how much mifchiefj 
 how much general advantage, how much, 
 general harm is often occafioned by a 
 thought, a word, a look, a geflure, an 
 emotion of man ! And how far, how im- 
 meafurably wide is the influence of what 
 he does extended through time and fpace ! 
 r How various, how connected, how in- 
 tricate, how compreheniive, how exten- 
 five are often his occupations and enter- 
 prizes ! What does he not produce, effect: 
 and controul within the fphere of his ac- 
 tion ? What is there that exifts, what hap- 
 pens, wherein he does not concern himfelf 
 by a thoufand means, which does not ex- 
 ercife his bodily, or his mental powers ? 
 And what obflacle, what difficulties 
 pan effectually keep him from them, or 
 totally quench the ardour of his activity ? 
 What is more hateful to him than inac- 
 tion and death ; what more defirable in his 
 eyes than diverfified life and difTeminated 
 pro iu&ion? Is not this the fcale by which 
 
 he
 
 l6 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 be meafures the value of himfelf and others, 
 and all external things ? And a creature 
 of to inceflant, fo unwearied an activity, 
 tvith an inward fentiment of himfelf and 
 the faculties which produce that activity, 
 muft be eminently fuperior to beings of 
 fmalier activity, or beings unconfcious of 
 their exigence. Does not he acquire 
 very confiderable dignity from this alone? 
 
 But, fourthly, a capacity continually 
 advancing, and conftantly acquiring new 
 degrees of perfection, difcovers to us a 
 frefh ground of his pre eminence and 
 dignity. The fun is glorious to behold', 
 fair is the moon, fair are the flars, beau- 
 tiful the vegetables and plants that 
 adorn the furface of our earth; each 
 of them is good and perfect in its kind : 
 but they remain as they are ; their figure, 
 their beauty, their motion, their operation 
 is invariably the fame. They are abfo- 
 lutety that which they are and muft be. 
 
 No
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS* 1^ 
 
 Not fo is man. He is not abfolutely what 
 he may and can be. He is confined by no 
 fpace; no time can fet bounds to his ac- 
 tion. One degree of perfection leads him 
 on to another : he {lands not fo high, but 
 he may flrive to be higher. His capacities 
 develop, his powers increafe in proportion 
 to his application and exertion of them : 
 and the circle of his views and operations 
 enlarges according to the degree by which 
 his capacities unfold, and his powers im- 
 prove. When has he learnt fo much, that 
 he fees nothing farther to learn ? When 
 does he know and underftand all that he 
 may underftand and knovv ? When has he 
 proceeded fo far in wifdom and virtue, that 
 he can make no farther progrefs in them ? 
 When has he performed fo much, and 
 acted fo beneficently about him, that he is 
 capable of doing no more, and has no more 
 beneficence to perform ? And when do 
 his aims and endeavours ceafe ? Who, in 
 all thefe regards, can fet bounds to the 
 VOL. I. C human
 
 2O WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 of the deity ; his activity fomething fimi- 
 lar to that of God ; his capacity of becom- 
 ing conftantly more perfect, is a capacity 
 of approaching nearer to the divine nature; 
 his immortality is a fimilitude of the inter- 
 minable duration of the Sovereign Being, 
 and the means of an everlafting fellowfhip 
 with him, As often as he thinks of truth ; 
 as often as he is inclined to good,nefs, and 
 brings it to effect; as often as he perceives, 
 admires, and promotes order and harmony ; 
 as often as he fpreads love, and joy, and 
 happinefs around him : fo often does he 
 think, and will, and perform, and feel, and 
 act in a godlike manner ; fo often does he 
 purfue the work of his creator, and father; 
 Ib often does he promote the defigns of 
 the Sovereign Being ; fo often does he ob- 
 tain a tafte of pure divine felicity; and 
 the more he does fo, the oftener he acts in 
 this manner, the greater is his fimilitude 
 with God, the brighter does the image of 
 God Ihine in him, the lefs are we able to 
 
 mi (lake
 
 OFMANCONSISTS. 21 
 
 miftake his high defcent, and to overlook 
 the dignity of his nature. It is then that 
 God vifibly adts, as it were in him and 
 through him; by him he gives teftimony 
 of the truth ; he inftrufts and reveals him- 
 felf to mankind by him ; by him he main- 
 tains the caufe of virtue ; by him he fpeaks 
 comfort to the afflicted ; by him he pours 
 balm into the wounded heart ; by him af- 
 fords help and fupport to the wretched, 
 diftributes bread to the hungry, and 
 gives flrength to the weak ; his world is 
 improved by him ; and through him he 
 fpreads life and joy more diffufively around. 
 And to be fuch an inurnment in the hand 
 of God; to have fuch a fimilitude with 
 him, the moft perfect, the moft glorious 
 Being ; to approach fo near to the divinity, 
 and, in a manner, to Hand in his place 
 upon the earth ; muft not this confer 
 a great, or rather the greateft dignity on 
 man ? 
 
 C 3 This
 
 3.0 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 of the deity; his activity fomething fimi- 
 lar to that of God ; his capacity of becom- 
 ing conftantly more perfect, is a capacity 
 of approaching nearer to the divine nature; 
 his immortality is a fimilitude of the inter- 
 minable duration of the Sovereign Being, 
 and the means of an everlafting fellowfhip 
 with him. As often as he thinks of truth ; 
 as often as he is inclined to good,nefs, and 
 Brings it to effecl; as often as he perceives, 
 admires, and promotes order and harmony ; 
 as often as he fpreads love, and joy, and 
 happinefs around him : fo often does he 
 think, and will, and perform, and feel, and 
 aft in a godlike manner ; fo often does he 
 purfue the work of his creator, and father; 
 ib often does he promote the deiigns of 
 the Sovereign Being ; fo often does he ob- 
 tain a tafte of pure divine felicity ; and 
 the more he does fo, the oftener he afts in 
 this manner, the greater is his fimilitude 
 with God, the brighter does the image of 
 God fhine in him, the lefs are we able to 
 
 mi Hake
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 21 
 
 miftake his high defccnt, and to overlook 
 the dignity of his nature. It is then that 
 God vifibly adts, as it were in him and 
 through him ; by him he gives teflimony 
 of the truth ; he inftrudts and reveals hhn- 
 felf to mankind by him ; by him he main- 
 tains the caufe of virtue ; by him he fpeaks 
 comfort to the afflicted ; by him he pours 
 balm into the wounded heart; by him af- 
 fords help and fupport to the wretched, 
 diftributes bread to the hungry, and 
 gives ftrength to the weak ; his world is 
 improved by him ; and through him he 
 fpreads life and joy more diffufively around. 
 And to be fuch an inftrument in the hand 
 of God; to have fuch a fimilitude with 
 him, the moft perfed:, the moft glorious 
 Being ; to approach fo near to the divinity, 
 and, in a manner, to (land in his place 
 upon the earth ; muft not this confer 
 a great, or rather the greateft dignity on 
 man ? 
 
 C 3 This
 
 22 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 This circumftance it is that brings him 
 fo near to the only begotten of the Father, 
 to his fon Jefus ; this it is that connects 
 him fo clofely, fo intimately with him 
 in whom the Father is well pleafed, whom 
 he has conflituted Lord of all, and is the 
 Jiigheft pattern of all human perfection. 
 And what a dignity does man acquire from 
 his relationship to Jefus, whom he reveres 
 as his reftorer and chief ! To have him, the 
 mod complete image of the Father, the 
 beam of divine effulgence, for his relation, 
 his biother, his friend, his captain and 
 leader, his Lord ; to be as ftruftly, as in- 
 dhTolubly united with him, as the mem- 
 bers of the body are united to the head ; 
 to be fo beloved pf him as no friend ever 
 loved another, or can love him, to be fo 
 unanimous with him, and to carry on the 
 fame defigns, to work with him as he does 
 with the Father ; in more than one refpedt 
 to reprefent him on the earth among man- 
 kind, and to forward the purpofes he be- 
 gan;
 
 OF MAN-CONSISTS. 23 
 
 gan ; how much muft this exalt the dignity 
 of man ! What honour, what fplendor, 
 what eminence muft it give him ! What 
 may not creatures, whom God has fo highly 
 favoured, expedt at his hands ! What de- 
 gree of perfection and blifs may not be at- 
 tainable by them ! 
 
 Laftly, conlider man in his outward 
 figure, and his ftation in the world. Con- 
 fider the place he fills upon the earth ; 
 what he is and does with all its other in- 
 habitants ; and in this regard alfo you can- 
 not miftake his dignity. See how man 
 ftands, full of confcioufnefs, amidft all in- 
 ferior creatures ; how exalted and eminent 
 he is above them ; how all proclaim him 
 the fovereign of the globe and its inhabi- 
 tants, the fubftitute of its author, and the 
 pried of nature ! With what a comprehen- 
 five view does he furvey, diftribure, order, 
 connedt, and apprehend ; now darting his 
 eye from earth to heaven, and then look- 
 C 4 ing
 
 24 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 ing down from heaven upon the earth with 
 fentiments of delight; affectionately che- 
 rilhing every thing that lives and moves ; 
 his fendmental heart expands to the innu- 
 merable dreams of pleafure and joy, which 
 from all fides flow to meet him, till he is 
 loft in the fweeteft fentiments of love and 
 adoration ! 
 
 How beautiful, how elevated his mien ! 
 How fignificant and expreffive every fea- 
 ture of his face, every petition, every 
 movement of his perfon ! How forcible is 
 the language of his eye ! How he difplays 
 his whole foul by a glance of it, and with 
 an irrefiftible energy at one time commands 
 reverence, at another fubmiilion and obe- 
 dience, and at another love ; now infpiring 
 courage and refolution, then pleafure and 
 fatisfadtion in all about him ! How often 
 does he confound wickednefs by a look, 
 defeat the fchcaies of injuflice, drive for- 
 row from the breaft of the mourner, and 
 
 dart
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS, ffj 
 
 dart life and heavenly joy where darkncfs 
 and diftrefs prevailed. Who can here 
 miftake the elevation and the dignity of 
 man! 
 
 And who can deny, that all things on 
 the earth relate to man, that all are ani- 
 mated, beautified, and connected as the 
 means of human happinefs, and for. the 
 glory of God? How exteniively do the 
 influences and operations of man, either 
 mediately or immediately prevail ! What 
 does he not extort from the very elements 
 and the abfcondite powers of nature ! And 
 what revolutions and productions does he 
 not bring forth ! What defert does not be- 
 come a paradife by his prefence and induf- 
 try ; and what paradife not more paradifai- 
 cal when he builds his habitation in it ! 
 Repreient to yourfelf the earth without 
 mankind, without rational creatures on it, 
 and what do you difco^er it to contain ? 
 Certainly ftill many great beauties; but 
 
 more
 
 26 WHEREIN THEDIGNITY 
 
 more favage than gentle, more dreadful 
 than delightful beauties; ftill indeed much 
 life, but life without confcioumefs, with- 
 out refle&ion, without appropriate enjoy- 
 ment, without recollection of the great 
 Author of it. No; nature is beautiful, 
 enchantingly beautiful ; but man adorns it, 
 collects all the fcattered and fingle beauties 
 about him, and fees and feels, and enjoys 
 them, and delights in them. Nature is 
 fruitful, inexhauftibly fruitful ; but man 
 improves her fertility, guides it, and gives 
 it its rnoft generally ufeful direction. Na- 
 ture is full of life; but man diverfifies, 
 elevates, and ennobles this life, and is 
 happy in the enjoyment of it. Thus is he 
 the lord of this part of the creation -, the 
 prieft of'nature, from whofe heart, from 
 whofe lips the thankfgiving and praife of 
 all inanimate and all living creatures, af- 
 cend to heaven; the central point in which 
 all that furround him unite, and all attain 
 their completion and perfection. Would 
 
 you
 
 OF M.A N CONSISTS. 27 
 
 you eftimate his powerful and benign in- 
 fluence on all tnings-, then only compare 
 the regions inhabited by man with thofe 
 wherein he has not fixed his abode ; com- 
 pare the European and Afiatic luxuriance 
 of gardens and fields, with the wilds of 
 America. Here nature languilhes for want 
 of cultivation : there plenty and joy meet 
 the traveller with fmiles. Here impene- 
 trable forefts, and vail impaffable marfhes 
 cover the earth ; its undirected and ufelefs 
 fertility, flifles and deftroys itfelf; and 
 peftilential vapours obfcure its furface : 
 there the fun, unimpeded, diffufes its light 
 and heat; the waters flow in pleafant 
 flreams ; the noifome vapours are difperf- 
 ed ; the winds are admitted to refrefh and 
 purify the atmofphere ; and the weeds arc 
 eradicated from among the ufeful plants. 
 Where man is not, and does not adt, there 
 are track lefs waftes; there froft, and chear- 
 lefs filence, and dreadful death prevail : 
 where man appears, where he lives and
 
 28 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY 
 
 adfo, there he makes him paths, there he 
 decks the earth with flowers and fruits, 
 there the air brings health and ftrength, 
 and pleafant odours with it, there he ani- 
 mates and gladdens all, there you hear the 
 lowing herds and the expreflive joyfulnefs 
 of man. And how much more beautiful, 
 more glorious is nature now ; how rich 
 and beneficent under the guiding hand, 
 and the genial attentions and culture of 
 man ! All is now the mirror of the deity, 
 the fchool of wifdom, the fource of plea- 
 fure, the means of exercife and perfection, 
 the foretafte of purer joys and higher l v*p_ 
 pinefs! How connected now is the vifible 
 with the invifible, the prefer with the fu- 
 ture, the terreftrial world .ch the world 
 of fpirits, and the creature with the cre- 
 ator ! 
 
 And man, who effects and produces all 
 
 this ; man, who poflefles fuch an under- 
 
 ftanding, fuch a freedom, fuch a&ivity^ 
 
 2 fuch
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 20 
 
 fnch capacities for ever tending to perfec- 
 tion i a being immortal ; a being in the 
 fimilitude of God, fo intimately conne&ed 
 with his fon Jefus Chrift ; and fuftaining 
 fuch a part upon the globe, and filling 
 fuch a character in regard to the other 
 creatures ; muft not man poflefs great dig- 
 nity in the fight of God, a pre-eminent dig- 
 nity in his fight, and in that of all rational 
 exigences ? 
 
 Judge then more juftly of mankind, 
 judge more juftly of thyfelf, O thou, who 
 probably only beholdeft thyfelf on the fide 
 of weaknefs and im perfection, and con- 
 fidereft not the fuperiority and the excel- 
 lency of thy nature ! Treat mankind, and 
 treat thyfelf conformably with truth. De- 
 bafe not the human race, under pretence 
 of exalting their fovereign and father, 
 God ; and when thou fpeakefl of his cor- 
 ruption and mifery, forget not however 
 that he is the work of the Almighty's hand, 
 that the ignominy of the creature can ne- 
 ver
 
 3<D WHEREINTHE DIGNITY 
 
 ver redound to the glory of the creator ; 
 forget not, that dimnefs of fight is not to- 
 tal blindnefs, that fhades give relief to 
 light, that great mifufe of power implies 
 great power, that the firft adt of life is not 
 the whole of life, that the tottering, feeble 
 infant will arrive at manhood, and then 
 will accomplifli much ; and that the God, 
 who, on the revifion of all, that. he had 
 made, pronounced it good, and beheld it 
 with delight j will certainly conduct all 
 things to their proper ends, to the fummit 
 of perfection. 
 
 No; confefs and feel thy ' dignity, O 
 man ! thy faculties, thy privileges ; and 
 feel and confefs them with a chearful 
 and a grateful heart ! It is not imagi- 
 nation, it is not pride ; it is fentiment 
 founded on truth. Pride will ruin this 
 fentiment of thy dignity, fo long as it pre- 
 vents thee from feeing, that in every in- 
 ftant thou art to ufe thefe faculties, capa- 
 cities.
 
 OF MAN CONSISTS. 3! 
 
 cities, and prerogatives, to thy own eleva- 
 tion, in all thou art and doft. No; feel, 
 and acknowledge the whole value of thy 
 reafonable nature, the whole worth of thy 
 fuperlative powers ! Elfe, .canft thou not 
 ufe them worthily; elfe canft thou not do 
 and enjoy, that which thou mayeft do and 
 enjoy by thy nature, and thy appointment; 
 thou canft not render^thy creator the gra- 
 titude, nor perform the fervice to thy fel- 
 low-creatures, which thou oweft to him 
 and to them. No; thou muft reverence 
 thyfelf, and all men muft be honourable 
 to thce. Each is an important, a neceffary 
 link in the chain of things ; each an efien- 
 tial, indifpenfable being, on which all 
 things operate, and which operates again 
 on all; whofe influence, however narrow 
 the fphere of it may feem, is immenfely 
 large, and its activity continuing for ever. 
 
 But let not the knowledge of thy dig. 
 nity be a bare rcprefentation of thy mind. 
 
 Let
 
 32 WHEREIN THE DIGNITY, &c* 
 
 Let it animate all thy reflections, enlarge 
 and warm thy heart, and difplay itielf in 
 all thy actions. Think juftly and greatly; 
 act freely and generoufly, be conftantly 
 more and more active in juftice and bene- 
 ficence ; ftrive unremittedly after higher 
 perfection ; live like a creature that is not 
 wholly to die, that is to live for ever ; en- 
 deavour to acquire daily a nearer refem- 
 blance with God, and to approach nearer 
 to the model of his fon Jefua Ghrift j ful- 
 fill the functions appointed thee on earth, 
 there act and rule with wifdom and loving 
 kindnefs, and continually difTcminate more* 
 life and joy and happinefs around thee. So 
 wilt thoii do honour to mankind, and to 
 God their creator and father, and incon- 
 trovertibly evince, that God has crowned' 
 thee with glory and honour, and has only 
 imde thee lower than the fpirits of blifs for 
 this period of time. 
 
 ESTIMATE
 
 WHAT IS IN 
 
 OPPOSITION 
 
 TO THE 
 
 DIGNITY OF MAN. 
 
 I'hou haft made him a little lower than the angel, 
 and haft crowned him with glory and honour. 
 
 Pfalm viii. 6, 
 
 VOL. I. t)
 
 r 35 
 
 WHAT IS IN 
 
 OPPOSITION 
 
 TO THE 
 
 DIGNITY o F M AN. 
 
 THE greater man's dignity is, fo 
 much the more highly is he en- 
 gaged to preferve it lincontaminated, and 
 to think and adt in conformity to it. The 
 greater his dignity, the more does every 
 thing that is in oppofition to it, that leflens 
 or obfcures its fplendour, debafe and de- 
 grade him. Better, far better would it 
 be to fill the lowed place, than to be ex- 
 alted above others, and to difgrace him- 
 felf by low fentiments and lhameful ac- 
 D 2 tions-
 
 36 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 tions : better, far better, to live in ob- 
 fcurity, and be loft in the crowd, than 
 to be confpicuous beyond others, and 
 to walk in the light, but by error, folly, 
 and vice, to betray a greater love for dark- 
 nefs : better, far better, to have meaner 
 faculties and far lefs elevated powers, than 
 great powers and exalted faculties, to mif- 
 appiy them, or not ufe them at all : better, 
 far better, ta poflefs no prerogatives, than 
 to degrade them by unworthy behaviour, 
 or by negligence to render them of na 
 effect. And may not this be the cafe with 
 numbers of mankind, and poffibly with 
 fome among us ? We all enjoy great pri- 
 vileges, as men, great abilities and pow- 
 ers : we all difpiay a fuperiority in various 
 ways, over the other inhabitants of the 
 earth ! we all fill a more elevated rank in 
 the fcale of exiftencies, live and act in a 
 higher and a larger fphere than they : we 
 are all endowed with a certain nobility, a 
 certain peculiar dignity which exalts us 
 
 far
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MA*. 37 
 
 far above every thing about us. No one 
 that has impartially considered the nature 
 and the destination of man, and knows and 
 feels himfelf, is able to contradidt this 
 fadt Reflect upon our laft inveftigation 
 of this fubjedt. Which of us then did not 
 perceive the dignity of man, did not ad- 
 mire it, did not rejoke in it? But how 
 feldom is it difplayed in its perfect purity, 
 in all its luflre ! How oft is it veiled, like 
 the fun, with thick and gloomy clouds, 
 or obfcured by the impenetrable opacity 
 of matter ! How often does man forget, 
 belie, and debafe his dignity ! How often 
 does he think and adt in fuch a manner as 
 if he were not that reafonable, that free, 
 that active, that emulative, that immortal, 
 that godlike creature ; as if he were not 
 the wife and beneficent ruler of the earth, 
 the pious prieft of nature; but exactly the 
 contrary to all this ! and how low muft it 
 fink him in the eyes of all intelligent crea- 
 tures, how low in his own, when he compares 
 D 3 what
 
 38 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 what he is and does with what he might 
 be, and is able to do ! would he but 
 frequently make thefe comparifons, and 
 not decline the falutary ihame and con- 
 fufion it muft neceflarily produce ! My 
 prefent defign is to facilitate this method 
 to fuch of you as are fallen from your dig- 
 nity, or have much leflened or obfcured 
 it by your fentiments and your conduct. 
 
 To this end, I lhall fhew you what is 
 derogatory to the dignity of man. 
 
 Let every one compare his own fenti- 
 ments and his own actions therewith ; 
 judge them both with flridt impartiality ; 
 let him not quickly turn his eyes away 
 from thofe things which degrade and de- 
 bafe him, and which he muft immediately 
 feel to degrade and debafe him, and by 
 that means let him rouze himfelf as foon 
 s poffible to become what he is not yet, 
 
 anc}
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 39 
 
 and immediately t6 fet about doing what 
 Jre has hitherto left undone ! 
 
 A man adh inconfiftently with the lofty 
 underflanding and reafon of his nature; he 
 a&s againft his own dignity, debafes and 
 degrades himfelf whenever he does not 
 cultivate his underftanding and his reafon, 
 when he does not life them to thofe pur- 
 pofes for which the Creator beflowed them 
 on him ; when truth and error, appear- 
 ance and reality, are things indifferent to 
 him, when he is contented with fmaller 
 or more trifling knowledge and purfuits, 
 than fuch as he might acquire and purfue 
 by his abilities, his faculties, his fitu- 
 ation, by the peculiar means and oppor- 
 tunities he has or -may have tp that end. 
 Where is then your dignity, O human 
 creatures ! How does your nobility appear, 
 if you avoid that filence and retirement 
 which is fo favourable, and generally fo 
 indifpenfably neceflary to continued reflec- 
 D 4 tion ;
 
 4O, WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 tion ; you who benumb your fpirit by aq 
 unceafing round of diffipation, diftradtion, 
 and tumultuous pleafure ; who feldorn 
 attain to any clear and intimate confciouf- 
 nefs of yourlelves and your condition ; wh 
 feldom exercife yourfelves in confideration 
 or reflection, turn your thoughts conftantly 
 more without than within ; exift more by 
 the opinions and judgements of others, 
 than live in that felf-fentiment which is the 
 neceflary concomitant of habitual medita- 
 'tion ? Where is your dignity, how does 
 your nobility appear, you who reft merely 
 in what you fee, and hear, and feel, who 
 fo feldom inquire into the caufes and 
 grounds, and views of things ; and, like 
 the beafts of the field, are occupied in en- 
 joying the prefent moments, forgetful of 
 the paft, and lofing fight of the future ? 
 Where is your dignity, how does your no- 
 bility appear ? you, who find it fo diffi- 
 cult to raife yourfelves above vifible and 
 earthly things, who fc- foon feel weary and 
 
 difgufte^
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 41 
 
 difgufted of any feriqus reflection on God 
 $nd religion, on duty and virtue, on death 
 and immortality, on the vocation and the 
 important concerns of man ; to whom ra- 
 tional piety, that nobleft elevation of the 
 human mind, is fo little agreeable and 
 pleafant, and are more delighted with what 
 affects and flatters the ferries, than with any 
 communications with the world of fpirits, 
 and with God, the Father of all fpirits ? 
 Where is your dignity ? how does your 
 natural nobility appear ? you, who, with 
 the beft means and opportunities of invef- 
 tigation and advancement in knowledge, 
 only think and talk in the fentiments of 
 others ; you who allow yourfelves to be 
 governed merely by the prejudices of 
 education, of appearance, of falhion, who 
 blindly embrace and revere every prevail- 
 ing opinion ; who are conftantly whirled 
 round in the fame narrow circle of falfe, 
 obfcure, and extremely defective concep- 
 tions and notions ; who ftUle your natural 
 
 curiofity j
 
 42 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 curiofity ; who neither acquire nor feek 
 any better information ; who remain ig- 
 norant in regard of fo many important 
 matters, and probably applaud yourfelves 
 for your ignorance ; and, therefore, in ge- 
 neral take fo little pains to cultivate your 
 underftanding', and to enlarge and rectify 
 your knowledge ? Is not this egregioufly 
 to belie your noblefl privileges, to pervert 
 or difufe them ? 
 
 Would you maintain your dignity, you 
 -muft ufe the underftanding and reafon 
 which God hath granted you, and whereby 
 he hath fo far exalted you above all the 
 other inhabitants of the earth; cultivate 
 it with care, let the adorning, the invi- 
 gorating, and the elevating of your mind 
 be at leaft as much your earneft endeavour, 
 as the nourifhment and the embellishment 
 of your perfon ; exercife your reflection on 
 -all that you fee and do ; conftantly prer 
 ferve the clear confcioufnefs of yourfelf, 
 
 and
 
 THE DIGNITY O? MAN. 
 
 and avoid every thing which benumbs and 
 opprefies that fcntiment ; reft not in the 
 femblances of things, in their outward ap- 
 pearance, their firft impreffions ; ftrive to 
 find out their true qualities, dive into their 
 motives, into their aims, and their inten- 
 tions, confider them in their connections 
 and confequences ; dired; frequently your 
 eyes and your heart on high, raife them to 
 the firft, the eternal caufe of all things, 
 keep up your clofe correfpondence with 
 the Father of fpirits, and thereby perform 
 what no other creature oh this terreftrial 
 globe can do; let not the fenfibility of 
 your fpirit be kept down upon the earth ; 
 let not floth hinder you from invefHgating 
 the truth ; and be faithful in the ufe of 
 all the means which providence hath af- 
 forded you, to the exteniion of your views, 
 and the increafe of your knowledge. 
 
 Farther, every thing that oppofes the 
 freedom of man, whatever contracts and 
 
 prevents
 
 44 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 prevents its ufe, militates againft the dig- 
 nity of man ; difhonours and debafes him, 
 and renders him unworthy of the ftation he 
 fills among the creatures of God. Be yc 
 free indeed ; maintain by your freedom the 
 dignity of man, ye who cannot withstand 
 any impreffion, any charm, any ftrong at- 
 tack of outward things, who do only what 
 is agreeable in your eyes and pleafant to 
 your heart ; ye who never refufe or refift, 
 or cannot refufe and refift, without conflicl: 
 and violence, what gratifies your palate, 
 flatters your fenfes, or fatisfies your animal 
 cupidity. Be ye free, maintain, by your 
 freedom, the dignity of man, ye who 
 fcarceiy ever behold with your own eyes, 
 aft from your own lights, who have fcarce 
 any fettled principles, and follow no fixed 
 rule in your condudt; you who are blindly 
 fwayed by the prevalency of cuftom, the 
 tyranny of falhion, and the force of ex- 
 ample ; are conftantly inquiring after, and 
 conftantly directing yourfelves by, what is 
 
 held
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 45 
 
 held to be true, and beautiful, and right, 
 and good, more than by what is really and 
 intrinfically true, and beautiful, and right, 
 and good. Be ye free, maintain, by your 
 freedom, the dignity of man, ye who fuf- 
 fer yourfelves to be dazzled by the luftre 
 of gold, the fplendour of ftation, the rich- 
 nefs of drefs, to be captivated by every 
 fair appearance, to be deluded by every 
 impofture, to be deceived by every pre- 
 tence, to Hart at every fancied terror, 
 to follow every lure ; who can furmount 
 no confiderable hindrance in your way, nor 
 withftand any uncommon temptation to 
 vice. Be ye free, maintain, by your free- 
 dom, the dignity of man, ye whofe love 
 and hatred, whofe hope and fear, whofe 
 joy and forrow, whofe good or ill humour, 
 whofe opinions and conclufions, whofe 
 whole behaviour in general depends on 
 mere outward things ; almoft on every ac- 
 cident, on every company, on every flight 
 alteration in the body or in the weather, fo 
 
 as
 
 46 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 as one while to make you think thus, and 
 at another otherwife ; who are feldom in 
 agreement with yourfelves, fo feldom do 
 that which you had refclved to do, and to 
 leave off that which you had determined to 
 forfake. Be free, maintain, by your free- 
 dom, the dignity of man, ye who are in 
 bondage to vice; who fuffer yourfelves to 
 be fo tyrannized by fome bafe inordinate 
 paffion, that ye follow its impulfes with 
 implicit obedience, comply with its orders 
 to do fuch things as your hearts rife up to 
 condemn, which your reafon and confcience 
 tell you are unrighteous and wrong. Be 
 free, maintain, by your freedom, the dig- 
 nity of man, ye who forget the rights of 
 mankind, and their natural equality; who 
 obfequioufly bow down before greatnefs 
 and power, who blindly fubmit to their 
 judgments, their actions, and their orders; 
 who tremble at every frown, at every threat, 
 of the mighty; who purchafe their favour 
 by cringing flattery, by criminal compla- 
 cency,
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 47 
 
 cency, and are entirely dependent on the 
 looks and difpofitions of feeble mortals. 
 
 No ; your freedom, that noble, that in- 
 eftimable privilege of man, is by this, at 
 leaft, much weakened, if not totally ob- 
 fcured ; is more natural temper and com- 
 pliance, than operative, active energy. Ye 
 are Haves, Haves to the fenfes, flaves to ac- 
 cident, flaves to men, Haves to your cupi- 
 dity ; and, fo long as you are fo, you re- 
 duce yourfelves to the level of the beafts 
 of the field, fo long is the dignity of man 
 fcarcely to be diftinguifhed in you; only 
 now and then a feeble ray appears through 
 the thick veil which covers it. Would 
 you have it fhine forth again in all its 
 fplendour ? O, then, break the chains of 
 your bondage by which fenfuality binds 
 you down ; make ufe of the reflection which 
 God has given you ; learn to a<ft with 
 thought and confideration ; truft not to the 
 firft impreffions of things, to the firft fug- 
 
 geftions
 
 48 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 geftions that arife within you ; in all yout 
 determinations confult experience, reafon, 
 and the will of God ; hearken to the voice 
 of your confidence; and aft hot againft 
 your own conviftion, nor do contrarily to 
 what you mull acknowledge to be good 
 and proper. Endeavour to acquire a 
 certain firmnefs and confiftency in your 
 thoughts, your inclinations, and actions, 
 which is the foundation of all true free- 
 dom, the completed fecurity againft all 
 fervitude arid bondage, an infallible cha- 
 rafteriftic of human dignity. 
 
 If that natural activity, which is con- 
 ilantly more or lefs operative in man, and 
 can never be entirely deftroyed, be another 
 charafteriitic of his dignity, then, thirdly, 
 every thing muft be contrary to it which 
 enervates, fuppreffes, reduces, or perverts 
 ir, and gives it a wrong direction. And 
 what numberlefs faults are men guilty of 
 in this refpect, by which they dcbafe them- 
 
 felves^ 
 3
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 49, 
 
 felves, and degrade their nature \ On one 
 hand, are men who avoid all attentive and 
 ferious consideration, all exertion of their 
 bodily or mental powers, all that requires 
 any trouble, any pains, or any deep invefti- 
 gation ; who ihudder alike at any labour, 
 or any intricate bufinefs, or any confiderate 
 undertaking-, always imagining their fa- 
 culties to be more fe'eble than they are, 
 almoft entirely neglect to ufe them for 
 fear they ihould be exhaufted ; are afraid 
 of the remoteil danger to their lives or 
 their health, to give up the flightefl con- 
 veniencies, to facrifice any trifle to duty, to 
 the opportunity of doing good, and to be 
 ufeful to the community ; who are ever 
 languilhing after reft, and feek their feli- 
 city in wealth, or in other external things, 
 and pleating themfelves in imagining they 
 poiTefs them, without employing them to, 
 ufeful purpofes, or once considering that it 
 is more blefled to give than to receive ; 
 men, who complain, and probably make 
 : VOL. I. E it
 
 5 
 
 it a reproach to Providence, that man Is 
 ordained to eat bread in the fweat of his 
 brow; that all he has is to be acquired, 
 purchafed, earned, and laboured for by 
 painful induftry ; that he has fo many ob- 
 flacles to furmount, fo many difficulties to 
 encounter, fo many foes to contend with, 
 in his way to peace and happinefs, that he 
 muft often watch, and think, and confider, 
 and care for others. On the other hand 
 are men who employ the greateft activity 
 and powers, wherewith they might do fo 
 much good to themfelves and to others, 
 direct it to mere trifles, and diffipate it all 
 upon them ; ever bufy, ever full of tur- 
 moil, and yet bring nothing to effect that 
 is worthy of them, nothing that is ufeful 
 to fociety, nothing that can chear them in 
 the hour of death, or be rewarded in the 
 day of judgement ; men, who, as if they 
 were always children, trifle, and loiter, and 
 fport, and throw away their whole liveg^ 
 employed barely in what relates to the or- 
 namenting
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 51 
 
 lamenting their perfons, in making a parade 
 of their exterior attractions, and fhming as 
 a figure in the falhionablc circles of fociety, 
 and thereby neglect their moft important 
 concerns. Others there are, who are very 
 active, but active in wickednefs ; \vho 
 bring much to pals, but feldom any good ; 
 who fovv peftilential feed en all (ides, lay 
 ftumbling-blocks in the way of the iimple, 
 fpread fnares for unfufpecting integrity, 
 deflroy domeilic and focial harmony, fan 
 and feed the fire of difcord, meddle with 
 all things and perplex them all ; who, 
 from a mifplaced activity, would do every 
 thing themfelves, and thereby prevent 
 others from doing it better. 
 
 Ye who think and act in this manner, 
 who fo fupprefs your propeniity to action, 
 or give it fo wrong a direction, awake from, 
 your flumbers, be aihamed of your floth, 
 if you would maintain the dignity of your 
 nature. At prefent your life is no more 
 E 2 than
 
 52 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 than a dream ; you can have no rational 
 joys; you poffefs your eminent powers in 
 vain, or you pervert them by mifapplica- 
 tion. To live like a man, means, to ufe 
 our a&ivity, to be confcious of our adtions, 
 and to do as much good as we can. To 
 reft like men, does not mean to be idle, 
 does not imply inaction, but to turn from 
 hard to lighter employments, and to rejoice 
 in the fuccefs of our endeavours. Would 
 you not vegetate like plants, nor exift like 
 the inferior animals, but live like rational 
 creatures, and enjoy that honourable repofe 
 which is worthy of man ; then be adtive, 
 and augment your induftry, but be adtive 
 and induftrious in virtue ; then lead a bufy 
 life, but be buiy in beneficence ; then ufe 
 and ir/jprove your faculties till they be in- 
 defatigable, and decline not the greateft 
 exertions when duty and philanthropy de- 
 mand them of you. 
 
 If
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 53 
 
 If capacity, ever increafing, ever tend- 
 ing to perfection, be a fourth charafteriftic 
 of man, then muft every tiling be in op- 
 pofition to his dignity which hinders the 
 difplay of that capacity, which checks 
 him in his endeavours after higher perfec- 
 tion, that puts him back, or fatigues and 
 difpirits him in it. And with what num- 
 bers : of people does this capacity remain 
 nothing but .capacity ? How few unfold 
 and bring the powers into action as much 
 as they might and ought ! Or, is that to 
 flretch forwards, is that ever to improve 
 and perfectionaje our faculties, is that pro- 
 perly to ufe them, when we are ib eafily 
 fatisfied with what we know, what we are, 
 and what we do ; when we indeed prefer 
 the good to bad, but fo feldom the better 
 to the good ? when we reckon ourfelves 
 fufficiently wife fo foon as we undcrftand 
 the bufinefs of our ftation or calling, and 
 have learnt to at our part with tolerable 
 decency in focial life ; when we imagine 
 E 3 our-
 
 54 WHAT IS IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 ourfelves virtuous and pious enough fa 
 long as we keep from open tranfgreffions, 
 from flagrant and fhameful vice ? when we 
 c'o not laugh at religion, while we fre- 
 quent the public worlhip, and maintain the 
 character of an honefl and harmlefs man ; 
 while we confine our beneficence merely to 
 almfgiving, to general courtefy and polite- 
 nefs ; but are lothe to facrifice any thing, 
 cr deny ourfelves in the ilighteft inftance 
 for others, from a generous and a bene- 
 ficent fpirit ? Is that to be called ftretching 
 forward, always ftriving after perfection, 
 duly to ufe our faculties, and thereby 
 maintain the glorious privileges of man, 
 when we are afraid of being wifer and 
 better than others, of fhewing our fupe- 
 riority by a founder judgement, nobler 
 fentiments, and a purer virtue ? when we 
 will not undertake to leave the common, 
 the beaten path, will not rife above pre- 
 vailing prejudices and cufloms, from a 
 dread of being charged with affectation 
 
 and
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 55 
 
 and fingularity, and are contented to re- 
 gulate and frame ourfelves by others, and 
 commonly by people of moderate talents 
 and feeble hearts ? Is that to be termed 
 flretching forwards, is that to be called al- 
 ways ftriving after perfection, and pro- 
 perly to put our powers in action, when 
 we fuffer every obllacle we meet with in 
 our way to perfection, every thwarting 
 temptation, every trip, every defire of out- 
 ward things, every fneer of the fool, every 
 jeft of the felf- conceited, to fcare us from 
 the purfuit of our aim, or make us abandon 
 our good refolves ? . 
 
 No; would you like wife in this refpedt 
 maintain the dignity of your nature ; firs, 
 you muft allow neither your floth nor the 
 example of others to fway you with an ar- 
 bitrary controul. Think not that you are 
 wife and virtuous, and pious to a degree 
 of fufficiency, that you have already done 
 good' enough, and have rendered ample 
 E 4 fervise
 
 56 WHAT IS IN OPPOSTIOU TO 
 
 fervice to the world ; regard no height of 
 knowledge, of wifdom, of virtue and 
 piety as properly unattainable ; and reckon 
 what you already know, already poflefs, 
 already can do, and already have done, as 
 the leaft part in companion of what you 
 ilill may hope to know, to attempt, and 
 to perform. To be all and to do all 
 that man is capable of doing and be- 
 coming, and to perform whatever depends 
 on human ftrength, let that be the exalted, 
 the glorious aim of your ftedfaft endea- 
 vours ! an object you are conftantly to 
 ftrive to attain, but which you will never 
 completely reach. 
 
 Then, firs, you are immortal. And 
 this gives you a dignity which eminently 
 raifes you above the whole inanimate and 
 traniitory creation. Oh, beware of every 
 thing that is at variance with this your ex- 
 cellency, or can obfcure the luilre of it ! 
 O man, thou art immortal, thpu ihalt con- 
 
 tinue
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 57 
 
 tinue, thou {halt live, thou malt be happy, 
 for" ever! and doft thou ftill confine thy 
 vie\vs to the prefent, doll thou attend only 
 to the moments of this Ihort life, doft 
 thou let thy whole heart depend on what 
 is tranfient and earthly, and feek thy whole 
 felicity in things which death will take 
 thee from, which are allowed thee to ufe 
 only for fome few days or hours ! Thou 
 art immortal ; thou ihalt remain, live, aivd 
 be happy, for ever; and doft thou ftill 
 live fo, .as if thoju wert altogether fleflj, 
 altogether to fee corruption; as if thou 
 hadft nothing to expert beyond the grave, 
 and nothing then to fear ; as if no judge- 
 ment and no fentence, no reward or'pu- 
 nilhment, awaited thy ipirit; as if thy pre- 
 fent conduct ftood in no connection with 
 thy future lot ! Thou art immortal ; thou 
 fhalt fubfift, live, and be happy for ever ! 
 And ftiil haft thou fo little regard for the 
 future! And uill doll thou fo feldom fa- 
 crifice the deceitful pleafures of this pre- 
 fent
 
 fent moment to the everlafting joys of 
 heaven ! And (till doft thou fo frequently 
 complain of that which prepares and con- 
 duds thee to fo exalted a ftate ! Still does 
 every misfortune flrike thee down ! and 
 flill does every terreftrial defire as deeply 
 affedt thee as if thou hadft no other and no 
 greater fatisfactions to expedt ! And ftill 
 doft thou tremble at the approach of 
 death, which is to put thee in poffeffion 
 of fuch great felicity ! And flill doft thou 
 ihudder and flart back at the fight of the 
 opening grave, as if thou and all thy com- 
 forts were there to be abforbed and anni- 
 hilated for ever ! What inconfiftency ! 
 What felf-degradation ! Doft thou thus 
 confider, and thus treat the dignity of an 
 immortal Being, as if it were nothing 
 fuperior to the duft of the earth ? Are thefe 
 the judgements, the fentiments, the incli- 
 nations, the concerns, the joys, the cares, 
 th folicitudes, befitting a man who has 
 
 fuch
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 59 
 
 fuch a profpedt before him, who has an 
 everlafting life in view ? 
 
 No ; wouldft thou fupport thy dignity, 
 O man ! %hen never forget that thou art 
 ordained to eternal life. This confidera- 
 tion muft often flrike thee, both in the tu- 
 mult of fociety, and in the -filence of fo- 
 litude ; in the midft of thy pteafures, and 
 in the midft of thy bufinefs, muft call out 
 to thee with a piercing voice : let 'not thy 
 heart be attached to things which thou 
 muft certainly lofe, which thou probably 
 muft leave fo foon ! Treat not with mdif- 
 ferency things that infallibly influence for 
 ever thy future lot ! Confine not thy de- 
 fires, thy endeavours, thy hopes, to the 
 prefent moment, when thou feed an eter- 
 nity before thee ! Negleft not for the af- 
 fairs and diftradtions of this fhort and un- 
 certain life, the far more weighty concerns 
 of thy foul, which fliall live for ever ! 
 3-et the profpecl of the future be the rule 
 
 of
 
 4b WHAT is IN OPPOSITION.^TO 
 
 pfthy bufinefs and thy behaviour for the 
 prefent. Bear and forbear, as one whorp, 
 no forrows and fufferings upon earth can 
 fink or abafe, whon} nothing can terrify 
 or allure from his high donation. Give 
 ^and forgive, and facrifice, a$ one whofe 
 riches are jnexhauftible, and whole hap- 
 pinefs can never be deftroyed .' Enjoy thy 
 fatisfadtions, thy delights, as one who ex- 
 peds purer fatisf actions and far nobler de- 
 . lights ! vJonftantly chufe, , and .ppnftantly 
 ,do that which will never caufe thee re- 
 morfe, that which thou wilt for ever en- 
 joy ! So will the nobility, the dignity, the 
 majefty, of an immortal being be re- 
 fplendent in thee in all thy thoughts and 
 in all thy deeds, in what thou fuffe reft, and 
 in what thou doft enjoy, and give a value 
 to thy life which nothing betides can give. 
 
 Wouldfl thou maintain thy dignity, O 
 man ! then, fixthly, beware of whatever is 
 in oppofition to the clofe and blefTed re- 
 gard
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 6l 
 
 gard in xvhich thou ftandeft towards God 
 and Jcfus, of all that may weaken, ob- 
 fcure, or deftroy thy fellowlhip with Chrift. 
 Reverence thy fpirit, by which thou art 
 not only related to angels, but art the 
 offspring of God ; and beware of mifufing 
 its faculties, for that is to mifule what is 
 moft glorious in thee, what brings thee 
 into affinity with God. Beware of every 
 error, and of every fin ; for error and fin 
 remove thee from God, and make thee lefs 
 fit for fellowihip with him. Beware of 
 every thing that is contrary to the mind of 
 Jefus, that pattern of human dignity, that 
 perfect image of the Father. Beware of 
 hindering the beneficent views of God to- 
 wards man, and the great work of his de- 
 legate on earth, in promoting infidelity or 
 fuperftition by corrupt example, or un- 
 righteous actions, and by rendering his 
 doctrines vain as far as in thee lies. Ra- 
 ther feek thy whole comfort in them, to 
 will as God wills, to be|fo minded as Jefus 
 
 was,
 
 62, WHAT IS'lJI OPPOSITION TO 
 
 was, to act as thou feeft thy Almighty Fa- 
 ther a&, and fo to walk as Jefus alfo 
 walked. So will the fpirit of God, the 
 fpirit of his fon Jefus, be vifible in thee^ 
 and aft in thy adtions. So wilt thou be 
 in the hand of God towards thy brethren, 
 what that extraordinary teacher formerly 
 was, what thofe heavenly meflengcrs were, 
 and what the apoflles of our Lord have 
 been. So wilt thou have the honour to 
 be called, in the higheft fenfe of the word, 
 a fon^ a daughter of God ; the honour of 
 being a brother, a filler, of Jefus, the firft 
 born of the Father, ever .improving in ca- 
 pacity and worth. And what a glory will 
 this confer upon all thou art, and upon all 
 thou doft ! 
 
 Laftly, O man ! there is dignity and 
 grandeur in thy outward form j beware 
 then left any degrading fentiments, any 
 imfeemly grief and forrow, any violent 
 inordinate paffions fhould tarniih or im- 
 pair
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN.' 6$ 
 
 pair it. Let the nobility of thy fpirit 
 animate and exalt the beauty of thy per- 
 fon. Let thine eyes fpeak neither falfliood 
 nor artifice, neither envy nor hatred ; thy 
 lips neither treachery nor lies ; but both 
 they and thefe, limple truth, and fimple 
 love. Let thy look be friendly to man- 
 kind ; let thy countenance be open ; and 
 all thy mien and gefture exprefs thy cul- 
 tivated under (landing, thy kind and ge- 
 nerous heart ! 
 
 And thou, the principal, the chief in- 
 habitant of the earth ! rule and govern, 
 O man ! in the name of thy Great Su- 
 perior ; and if thou wouldft maintain the 
 dignity of God's vicegerent in this pro- 
 vince of his dominion, then rule and go- 
 vern with tendernefs and wifdom. Be not 
 the tyrant, be the guardian, the protector, 
 the leader of all inferior creatures ; drive 
 them not from thee, but draw them to 
 
 thec
 
 $4 WHAT is IN OPPOSITION to 
 
 thee with complacency, with compafliorlj 
 with fuccour. Slay and deftroy them not 
 without neceffity ; and when thou haft need 
 of them, when thou canft not even fpare 
 their lives, at leaft forbear to multiply 
 their fufferings, and to augment their pain J 
 torment them not, to prolong thy favage 
 pleafure, or to gratify thy faftidious ap- 
 petite. Do not defolate and ravage the 
 earth, which thou art to improve and 
 to adorn. Spread not death and deftruc- 
 tion, but life and joy around thee. Be 
 principally the benefactor of thy brethren, 
 of whatever nation, of whatever condition 
 they may be. Defpife none -, injure none ; 
 let none feel thy power, or thy pre-emi- 
 nence, but as the tokens of thy beneficence 
 and love; lay not the fhackles of bondage 
 on. any, for all have the fame pretenfions 
 to freedom as thou ; difturb none in their 
 innocent pleafures ; refufe to none that help 
 which thou art able to afford ; hinder no 
 man in his endeavours after perfection ; 
 7 and
 
 THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 65 
 
 and let the pofieffions, the wealth, the li- 
 berty, the privileges, the joys, of every 
 man, be facred to thee ! 
 
 Art thou the priefl of nature ? and 
 wouldft thou maintain this dignity ? Then 
 be not indifferent, be not infenfible to the 
 wonders of almighty wifdom and goodnefs 
 which furround thee on all fides. Hearken 
 to the voice of nature, take up her fong 
 of praife ; feel the joy of every living 
 thing, and let thy heart imbibe, and thy 
 tongue pronounce, what it can neither ex- 
 prefs nor feel, and offer up thankfgiving 
 and praife, in the name of all, to him who 
 made both thee and them, who hath ex- 
 alted thee fo highly, and to whom all glory 
 and praife belong for ever. 
 
 VOL. I. F E S T I-
 
 ESTIMATE III. 
 
 HOW AND BY WHAT MEANS 
 
 CHRISTIANITY 
 
 DIGNITY OF MAN. 
 
 Thou haft made him a little lower than the angels, 
 and haft crowned him with glory and honour. 
 
 Pfalm viii. 6. 
 
 F 2
 

 
 ( 69 ) 
 
 HOW AND BY WttAT MEANS 
 
 CHRISTIANITY 
 
 RESTORES THE 
 
 DIGNITY OF MAM. 
 
 . . 
 T is certain, that man pofleffes a great 
 
 A intrinfic dignity, and let him be ever fo 
 flight an obferver, he cannot be totally blind 
 to it. It is no lefs certain, that error and 
 vice, fuperftition and flavery, have very 
 much obfcured its native fplendor ; and 
 there have been times when the pre-emi- 
 nence, and the nobility of man, when his 
 relationlhip to God, and his deftination to a 
 higher perfection, were hardly difcernible. 
 Into what a condition of weaknefs and de- 
 bility, and felf-degradation, hath he not 
 formerly been, is not ftill funk^ in many 
 F 3 nations
 
 70 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 nations of the world ! And how much 
 deeper yet would he not have fallen from 
 that dignity, if God had left him to him- 
 felf ; if he had not put a flop to his pro- 
 greffively increafing corruption and mifery [ 
 But what has not God done in this refpedt 
 for man, in every age, and in every nation ! 
 How often has he raifed up, among his 
 brethren, fouls of a finer and a nobler fen- 
 timent, fpirits of a deeper penetration,- of 
 more eminent powers, and more extenfive 
 operation; who have been fhining lights iti 
 their generation, for infpiring a new life 
 into multitudes that were dead in trefpafles 
 and fins, for communicating to them a 
 frefti activity in goodnefs, and for reaching 
 out a hand to fenfual men, for lifting them 
 above their fenfuality, and for recalling 
 them nearer to their high vocation ! Ho\v 
 much has not God in particular done by 
 his fon Jefus, for the reftoration of the hu- 
 man race ! was not this the ultimate fcope 
 J of
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 7.! 
 
 of the whole of his great work on earth ? 
 How much has God honoured and exalted 
 man by his intimate relationftup and con- 
 hecYion with his fon, the nrft-born among 
 all creatures ! And what noble fentiments 
 does Christianity infpire into its true con- 
 fefTors! How much does it extend the cir- 
 cle of their view, and the fphere of their 
 adlion ! What great atchievements does it 
 not render them capable of, and how it 
 ennobles all they think and do ! Certainly, 
 a Chriftian, who is fo in deed and in truth, 
 is one that, above all men, difplays the 
 dignity of man in its brighteft fplendourj 
 in it mod various arid mod noble effects ! 
 O Sirs! could I but give you all, who 
 bear the name of Chriftians, the convi<fiion 
 of this truth-, how fuperfiuous then would 
 demonflrations be ! Grateful joy < at our re- 
 flored dignity, and incitements to preferve 
 it, Would then be our only employment. 
 But we mult proceed to fet the argument 
 arifing from the pre-eminent dignity of the 
 F 4 Chriftian,
 
 72 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Chriftian, in its true point of view. And 
 this fhall be the fubject and aim of my 
 prefent difcourfe. I will endeavour to an- 
 fwer the queftion : how, and how far, hath 
 Chriftianhy rekindled in man the fenti- 
 ment of his dignity, flrengthened and 
 guided him to the maintenance of it ? 
 
 Chriftianity places our conduct towards 
 God in the fulleft light ; it teaches us, 
 how great an intereft God takes in the 
 welfare of man, and how much he has 
 done, and ftill does for him ; it informs us 
 of providence and the government of God, 
 of his constant prefence every where; of 
 his fovereign infpeclion over all things ; of 
 his influence upon all things ; and pro- 
 mifes us his particular affiftance as often as 
 we ftand in need of it; it fets confpicu- 
 oufly before us the dignity of man in the 
 perfon of Jefus, in his conduct, and his 
 fortunes , and points out to us thereby 
 what the nature of man is capable of; and 
 
 to
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 7* 
 
 to what degree of perfection it is able to 
 arrive ; it declares to us an immortality, 
 everlafting life, a never-ending, an al- 
 ways increafing felicity ; it acquaints us 
 with the clofe connection of our prefent 
 with our future condition ; and by all thefe 
 means Chriftianity promotes the fentiment 
 and the reftoration of the dignity of man. 
 
 Firft, I fay, Chriftianity places our con- 
 duct towards God in its fulleft light ; and 
 thereby gives man the fentiment of his 
 dignity, and enables him to maintain it. Is 
 man then to imagine himfelf the work of 
 blind chance, or a fon of the earth, in the 
 ftricteft fenfe of the word ; may he boaft 
 of no other origin than that of the plants ; 
 is he derived, like the infedts, from foul- 
 nefs and corruption ? Can he not elevate 
 himfelf by meditation and faith, to God 
 himfelf; or does he not know this God 
 as the Creator of the world, as the Father 
 of mankind ? How little value then muft 
 2 his
 
 74 SY WHAT MEANS CHRIST I AN JT? 
 
 his exigence and his nature be of in hie 
 iight ! What is more infignificant than the' 
 fport of hazard, which deflroys to-morrow 
 what it produced to-day, which does not 
 adt by defign and rule, and is continually 
 in contradiction with itfelf ! What is more 
 empty and vain, than the exigence of a 
 heap of duft in this or the other form ; 
 which, being nothing but duft, muft fooner 
 or later be wholly dccompofed, and fall 
 for ever into duily atoms ! And were not 
 thefe the low reprefentations made by 
 numbers of the wife and the unvvife among 
 the heathens, concerning man and his ori- 
 gin ? How totally opponte is the inftruc- 
 tion Chriftianity gives us on this matter ! 
 It proclaims aloud to every one of its con- 
 feflbrs ; God, the only, the eternal, the 
 fupremely perfect God, is thy Creator and 
 Father, as well as the Creator of the world, 
 of all the hoih of heaven, and of all the 
 inhabitants of the earth. Neither chance 
 nor fate called thee into being ; but fu- 
 
 preme
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. yj 
 
 preme wifdom and goodnefs gave thee life 
 and breath, and all things. Thou art no 
 earth-born creature : thou art the Ton, the 
 daughter of God, the moft high ; thou art 
 of divine defcent, created in the likenefs 
 of God, capable of communication with. 
 him, and of a greater fimilitude with 
 his perfections! Thou art not altogether 
 duft; thou art only at prefent covered by 
 a veil of matter; the fpirit which it cloaths, 
 is exalted far above the dufl ; is ordained 
 for a higher, a more important ftation ; and 
 depends no more on accident for its dura- 
 tion than its production, but upon the 
 will of him who loves thee with the ten- 
 derneis of a father, and afluredly will not 
 deftroy the work of his hands ! And the 
 God who has formed thee is likewife thy 
 preferver, thy fovereign, thy infpedtor, thy 
 judge, and hereafter will be thy rewarder. 
 If man then ftand in fuch regard towards 
 God ; if he be fo intimately connected with 
 the being fupremely perfect, with the cre- 
 ator
 
 7 6 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIAN ITT 
 
 ator and fovereign of the world ; if he be his 
 child, his moft beloved, his mod favoured 
 child, what a value muft this give him in his 
 own eyes \ how far is his nature above all in- 
 ferior creatures! what a fentiment it gives 
 him of his dignity ! How can he boaft of his 
 defcent, and of his fellowihip with God, if 
 he degrade himfelf by unworthy fentiments 
 and ignoble actions ? How can he fup- 
 port the dignity of the reprefentative of 
 God, if he have not the ornaments of wif- 
 dom and virtue ? How can he reflect on 
 his intimacy with the Supreme Intelli- 
 gence, the pure fonrce of light, and yet 
 walk in darknefs ? 
 
 Chriftianity teaches us farther, how great 
 an intercft God takes in human events, 
 ?.nd how much he has done and (till does 
 for our welfare; and what a grand idea 
 muft this give us of our dignity ! how 
 forcibly mnft it urge us to the maintenance 
 of it ! According to the doctrine of Chrif- 
 tianity,
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 77 
 
 tianity, we are not the creatures of a God 
 who taketh no care of his creation, and 
 leaves the beings he has formed to them- 
 felves ; we are not the offspring of a father 
 who difowns his children, who does not 
 concern himfelf about them, and is in- 
 different to their happinefs or mifery. No ; 
 God does not, according to this comfort- 
 able doctrine, leave ^man unnoticed ; does 
 not deny him his fatherly tendernefs and 
 love ; does not leave the fortunes of his 
 feeble, helplefs, untutored children, to 
 blind fate, or abandon them to their ig- 
 norance. No ; from their firft progenitor, 
 downwards to the lateft pofteirty, has he, 
 he himfelf, provided for their fupport, 
 their inflruction, their guidance, their edu- 
 cation, their advancement to a higher per- 
 fection. He has conftantly revealed him- 
 felf to them in various ways ; conflantly 
 ihowered unnumbered benefits upon them -, 
 fometimes chaftifing them in love, and 
 fometimes bleffing them with his bounty ; 
 
 he
 
 yS BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 lie has constantly been near to them, an,d 
 lias left no means untried for the improve- 
 ment of their minds, and the amelioration 
 of their hearts. When has he withheld his 
 fructifying influence from nature ? when 
 has he denied his invigorating power to the 
 human fpirit ? when withdrawn from it 
 the incitements, tlve ftrongefl incitements to 
 its developement and proficiency ? At 
 what time has he covered the earth, or 
 even any region of it, with fuch total 
 darknefs, as not to afford one ray of light ? 
 or>e "pure beam to penetrate the gloom ? 
 When did fuch univerfal corruption pre- 
 vail upon it, that nothing happened to 
 weaken or controul it ? How often has he 
 lent wife and good men as his delegates to 
 their brethren ! How frequently has his. 
 providence, by various ways, united brighter 
 countries with thofe that lay in darknefs, 
 mi:yed enlightened perfons among the raw 
 untutored vulgar, and the befl with the 
 worfi of men ! How full of wifdom and 
 
 good-?
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAX. 79 
 
 goodnefs were bis dealings with the pof- 
 tenty of Jacob, the education he gave 
 them, and by their means to fo many other 
 nations ! And how much, how inexpref- 
 fibly much, has he done at length for man 
 by his fon Jefus ! What a teacher of truth, 
 what a fafe and fure guide in the way of 
 virtue and happinefs has he fent us in him ! 
 What a mighty helper and deliverer; 
 what a bountiful lord and king ! What re- 
 velations of his will, what aflurances and 
 proofs of his favour and love, what pro- 
 mifes and views of futurity, what comfort, 
 what new powers has he not fent down 
 from heaven by this exalted perfonage, 
 his glorious reprefentative ! And fhall man, 
 for whom God cares fo much ; fhall man, 
 for whom he has done and ftill does fo 
 great things ; fhall man, for whom God 
 raifed up the fon of his love, and for con- 
 firmation of his truth, allowed him to die; 
 is this man a contemptible, an infignificant 
 creature ? Muft he not be of great value, 
 
 muft
 
 80 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 muft he not have a pre-eminent dignity ? 
 Muft he not feel this dignity ; muft he not 
 be happy in the fentiment of it whenever 
 he meditates thereon ; when he considers 
 how much he is efteemed of his God, how 
 gracioufly the Moft High is difpofed to- 
 wards him, and with what paternal tender-* 
 nefshe cares for him ? Caufe and effe&, means 
 and end, are in the clofeft connection in the 
 mind of God ; and whatever he favours with 
 fuch peculiar attention and regard m it cer- 
 tainly be, either in itfelf and its aature, or 
 in its deflination, of the guaiieft, of the 
 utmoft importance. 
 
 Farther : Chriftianity places; thirdly, the 
 dodtrine of the divine providence and go- 
 vernment of the world in the cleareft light ; 
 jt proclaims to us the conftant prefence of 
 God with all things, his fupreme infpedtion 
 over all, his influence in all, and promifes us 
 his particular affiftance as often as we have 
 occafion for it. And how much muft this 
 caufe a man to feel his own dignity and 
 
 worth !
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. Si 
 
 worth ! how forcibly muft: it urge him to the 
 maintenance of it ! By this doctrine, all that a 
 man does and all that befalls him, every thing 
 that happens in the world, wears another 
 afped:, and becomes of more importance 
 than it otherwife could. Thefe doctrines 
 fpread the cleareft light on every thing that 
 elfe would be attributed to chance and the 
 fortunes of mankind, and which muft lower 
 a man in his own eyes, To be left to 
 himfelf, without the fuperintendance of 
 the great Regent, without the illumination 
 and guidance of an Almighty and bene- 
 ficent Father ; placed upon fo changeable 
 and fo perplexed a fcene ; fo many dangers 
 to undergo; under no direction but the 
 caprice of chance, unfheltered from the at- 
 tack of artifice and iniquity ; deftitute of 
 all refuge in adyerfity, of all affifbnce in 
 perils ; how weak, how mifcrable, how 
 contemptible, muft man become ! how 
 often would he be tempted to envy the lot 
 of the beafts of the field ! Bur, irradiated 
 as he is by the light, how can he do other- 
 VOL. I. G wife
 
 82 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 wife than exalt his fpirit ! what peace, 
 what courage, what confidence, mutt not 
 this afford him ! what defign, what con~ 
 necYion, what order, does it not fhevv him, 
 where every thing before appeared in con- 
 fufion, in contradiction, and at open ftrife ! 
 The Chriftian may now hold this language 
 to himfelf : God, the omnifcient, the all- 
 bountiful, who rules my lot, the lot of all 
 mankind, and of all worlds ; he fur- 
 roundeth all, overfeeth, diredteth, and 
 conducteth all, the fmall as well as the 
 great, the evil as well as the good ; in his 
 hand are all animate and all inanimate 
 creatures, all caufes and powers, and with- 
 out his will no atom can. change its place, 
 no hair fall off from my head, no man do- 
 me harm, no pleafure, no misfortune at- 
 tend me ; and all that he wills and ordains, 
 is right and good,- and conftantly the beft. 
 He fees in the cleareft light, where I am 
 furrounded by the deepeft darknefs ; he 
 provides for me where I can find nothing to 
 7 pro-
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. S? 
 
 +J 
 
 procure ; nnd makes that to be the means 
 of my perfection and happinefs, which 1 
 thought calamity and diftrefs. He, the 
 Almighty, the moft bountiful," is con- 
 flantly near me with his help, is ac- 
 quainted with all my wants, hears all my 
 lighs, manifcfts his flrength in my weak- 
 nefs, guides and conduces me by his fpirit, 
 carries on his defigns on earth by me, and 
 is ever ready to do more in us and by us 
 than we are able to afk or think. He, the 
 omnifcient, the omniprefcnt, is ever with 
 me, is ever about me. He knoweth my 
 heart, is the infallible witnefs of all I 
 think and do, he feeth in fecret, and will 
 reward that openly which was done in pri- 
 vate. His judgement is pure righteoufnefs 
 and truth, his approbation is conftantly 
 fincere, and is of immenfely more value 
 than all the applaufe of the world, than, 
 all the pofleffions and all the glories of 
 the earth. And how awful then muft be 
 the deflination of the man, who believes 
 G 2 fueh
 
 84 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 fuch a providence, who thus walks under 
 the infpection of God, who thus acts in 
 his prefence, who efteems himfelf an in- 
 ftrument in the hand of God, a means to 
 the execution of his defigns ! how im- 
 portant mult he confider the bufinefs he 
 has to tranfact upon the earth ! how 
 itrong muft he feel himfelf intheaffurance 
 of divine fupport ! what power and cou- 
 rage muft he find in himfelf to do every 
 good action under the eyes of his Father 
 and Judge ! how generoufly, how greatly 
 will he think and adt even in the abfence 
 of all human witneffes, when deftitute of 
 all human approbation, and even amidft 
 the ingratitude of the world ! how un- 
 clifmayed will he be amidft the changes and 
 chances of this mortal life ! how tranquil 
 and confident will he lift up his eyes on 
 high in reverence to God, as the belt and 
 wifeft ruler and Father of him and the 
 whole creation t 
 
 2 Chrif-
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. B 
 
 Chriftianity difplays clearly to us, in the 
 fourth place, the dignity of man in the 
 perfon of Jefus, his reftorer and chief, in 
 his conduct and the events in which he 
 was concerned, and teaches us therein, in 
 as compreheniible, as incontrovertible a 
 manner, what human nature is capable of, 
 and to what height of perfection it may 
 afcend. Yes, Sirs, in Jefus, our relation, 
 our brother, our friend, whofe life is fo 
 clofely connected with our lives, his for- 
 tunes fo infeparably united to ours, in 
 him our dignity appears in its unfullied 
 purity, in its perfect fplendour. What 
 wifdom, what virtue, what piety, did he 
 not difplay ! what love towards God and 
 man did not animate him! what did he 
 not perform ! and how pure, how bene- 
 ficent were all his views in whatever he did ! 
 what did he not endure; and how wil- 
 lingly, how ftedfaftly, how piouily, did he 
 exer ile his patience ! what condefcen- 
 tions, what facrifices, what uninterrupted 
 G 3 obedience
 
 86 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 obedience to his heavenly Father, what 
 indefatigable zeal in beneficence, what 
 inceflant endeavours to reach the end 
 of his high calling, did he not teftify 
 during the whole courfe of his life on 
 earth ! what temptations were ever able 
 to conquer him, what wrongs could irri- 
 tate him, what dangers alarm him, what 
 difficulty difcourage, or what fufferings 
 make him impatient ! and to what a 
 pitch of power, of honour, of glory, by all 
 this did he attain ! how great, how im- 
 menfely great, is now his fphere of action ! 
 how illuftrious is manhood now exalted to 
 the right hand of the Father ! how fhould 
 not now, and hovvlhould not hereafter, every 
 knee fubmiffively bow to him our chief, 
 and every tongue confefs that he is Lord, 
 to the glory of God the Father ! Ac- 
 knowledge here, O man, the dignity of 
 thy nature ! here feel what thou, as man, 
 mayeft do, what thou mayeft endure, what 
 thou mayeft withftand; to what a height 
 
 thou
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. B 
 
 I 
 
 thou haft power and capacity to raife thy- 
 felf to, as man ! feel the whole value of 
 the privilege whereby God has honoured 
 man, in the perfon of his chief and re- 
 llorer ! That Jefus, who is now exalted 
 far above all, who fo widely rules and ads, 
 is flefli of thy flefh, is thy brother, was a 
 man like thee, was tempted as thou art, 
 was acquainted with grief like thee, and 
 entered into glory through obedience and 
 forrow ! What exercifes and trials can 
 : now affright thee, what conflicts difmay 
 thee, what facrifice coft thee too much, 
 what difficulties flop thee in thy courfe, 
 what pitch of wifdom and virtue, what de- 
 gree of felicity, can now feem unattainable 
 to thee ! Look at him, thy leader and chief, 
 tread in his footfteps, and flrive to emulate 
 him \ through him thou mayeft poiTefs all 
 things , with him be exalted over all, with 
 him prevail and triumph, and hereafter 
 behold and enjoy the glory which the 
 Father hath bellowed on him, and in him 
 G 4 on
 
 88 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 on all mankind who maintain the dignity 
 of their nature ! 
 
 Laflly, Chriftianity has revived in man 
 the fentiment of his dignity, and given 
 him the moft powerful incitements to 
 maintain it, by the grand doctrine of im- 
 mortality and everlailing life, which it 
 places in the moft confpicuous light, and has 
 connected in the clofeft manner with what 
 we are and do, and all that happens to us. 
 Though man pOiTefied ever fo great pri- 
 vileges over the beafts of the field; though 
 he felt in hirnfelf ever fo great powers and 
 faculties for the nobleft undertakings ; 
 though he could bring fo much to pafs, 
 and execute fo much good ; how little 
 would* all this appear to him, if thefe pri- 
 vileges, thefe powers, thefe faculties, this 
 noble activity, were to be loft to him in a 
 few uncertain quickly-fleeting years, if he 
 rnuft be deprived of them all for ever by 
 death ; had he no fruit to expect from all 
 
 he
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 89 
 
 he has here learnt, and done, and fuffercd, 
 and facrificed, and pradtifed ! how little 
 Rourifhment for his nobler fentiments, how 
 little incitement to generous actions, to hard 
 but beneficial undertakings, what poor en- 
 couragement to inceffant endeavours after 
 higher perfection, would man find in his 
 prefent: iituation, if death were the period 
 of his exiftence, if the grave and corrup- 
 tion were the term of all his hopes and ex- 
 ertions ! how foolilh muft the generality 
 of his facrifices to integrity and virtue ap- 
 pear I and how wife the faying of the fool : 
 " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we 
 < J die!" -But now, enlightened by the 
 bright beams of the Gofpel, animated by 
 the hope of a bleffed immortality, how to- 
 tally different is the cafe with man ! what a 
 fentiment of his dignity, of his greatnefs, 
 of his future exaltation, muft it awaken in 
 him, when he can fay to himfelf, I live, 
 I think, I labour, I endure, I fuller, I ex- 
 ercife myfelf for eternity ! my prefent fitu- 
 
 ation
 
 90 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 ation is only a prelude to the future ! my 
 future fixation, the continuation and reward 
 of the prefent ! Whatever I do here draws 
 confequences, unterminating confequences, 
 after it. The worthy and generous actions 
 that I now perform will ftill rejoice and 
 blefs me, after thoufands and millions of 
 years. The light which I here fpread 
 around me will enlighten me and my 
 brethren beyond the grave ; the good of 
 every kind, I here effect in others and by 
 their means, wi'l proceed in action from 
 everlafting to everlafting, and be always 
 producing more good in infinite progref- 
 flon ; and all that I here meet with has 
 sn influence on my future deftination for 
 ever. What now oppreffes me, and what 
 the world calls misfortune and diftrefs r 
 may be to me the inexhauftible fource of 
 pleafure and profit in future, The vio- 
 lence I now do to myfelfj the hardfhips, the 
 forrows I now endure for the love of God 
 and of my fellow-creatures, work together 
 
 for
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 9! 
 
 for my everlafting good. What can I vo- 
 luntarily furrender for the fake of God and 
 my confcience, which I lhall not receive 
 an hundred fold ? what can I give to my 
 brethren, from a right chriftian heart, that 
 I lhall not receive again with ufury ? what 
 can I facrifice to' my duty, that will not be 
 amply rewarded ? Nay, the more I here 
 beftow, the greater will be my gains, and 
 the more I lhall have to beftow again. 
 The more I here improve in knowledge, 
 in wifdom, and in virtue, the fafter then 
 {hall I proceed from one degree of perfec- 
 tion and happinefs to another ; the nearer 
 fhall I approach to Jefus my chieftain and 
 Lord, and, through him, to God fupreme. 
 Here I learn to be, and to do, and to en- 
 joy, what in that nobler life I ihall more 
 perfectly be, and do, and enjoy. This is 
 the time for fowing, planting, working, 
 and conflicting; then will be the time of 
 harveft, of enjoyment, of repofe, and tri- 
 umph ! No ; my exiitence is not confined 
 
 to
 
 92 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 to this fleeting moment : it will continue 
 for ever ! my activity is not bounded by 
 the narrow circle in which I now live and 
 move; it 'will always be opening wider, 
 always become larger, and be more diver- 
 fified. My fpiritnal powers are not to be 
 loft in diffolution and decay like duft -, they 
 fhall continue in operation and effect for 
 ever ; and the moie I exert them here, the 
 better I employ them, the more I improve 
 them, fo much better fhall I ufe them in 
 the future world, fo much the more fhall 
 I be capable of flill farther improvement. 
 I fee before me an unterminating extenfion 
 of my fight and action, an inceflant in- 
 creafe in knowledge, in virtue, in activity, 
 and in blifs ; the whole immenfity of 
 God's creation, the whole unnumbered 
 bolt of intelligent, thinking beings, all the 
 hidden treafures of wifdom and knowledge 
 in Jefus Chrift, the unfathomable depths 
 of divine perfection : what noble employ- 
 ments, what difplays of my powers, what 
 
 pure
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAN. 93 
 
 pure joys, what everlafting progrefs, dd 
 thefe afford to ray expectations ! And, in 
 fuch views, in fuch expectations, muft I 
 not feel myfelf happy ! can I miflake my 
 relationfhip with the Supreme Being, my 
 fellowfhip with Chrift and with God? 
 With fuch profpects, with fuch expecta- 
 tions, how can I degrade myfelf by folly 
 and fin, by folly and fin leave my high 
 deftination ! With fuch profpects and fuch 
 expectations ihall I be difcouraged, and 
 weary of purfuing the great aim of my vo- 
 cation by acts of beneficence and mercy ! 
 ihall i fpare myfelf in any confiderable ef-* 
 fort of my faculties, complain of any fa- 
 crifice, which God and confcience order 
 me to make ; avoid any opportunity of 
 fowing good feed, and leave any means 
 unemployed of augmenting the harveft of 
 my future wealth ! With fuch a profpect, 
 with fuch expectations, fhall I be terrified 
 at any misfortune, or tremble at the fight 
 of death and the grave ! Can either mis- 
 fortune,
 
 94 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 fortune, or death, or the grave, deftroy 
 me? Are misfortune, and death, and the 
 grave, any thing but the means and the 
 way to a higher and a greater felicity ? 
 No ; every exercife of my powers, every 
 opportunity of doing good, muft be wel- 
 come to me. Every misfortune, that makes 
 rne uifer and better, is a bleflbg to me, 
 and the fummons of death is a fummons 
 to me, to enter on a better life. O Sirs, if 
 we think fo, and fo aft, then do we think 
 and adt as Chriftians how full of light, 
 how important are all things to us! what 
 a value all that we are, and all we do, and 
 all that happens to us, receive from hence ! 
 how operative, how effective, muil the 
 fentiment of our dignity be ! 
 
 Wouldft thou then feel and maintain 
 thy dignity, O man ! wouldft thou difplay 
 it in all its luflre ! then be a Chriflian, be 
 wholly Chriftian, be wholly animated by 
 the fenfe and fpiri r . of Chriftianity, believe 
 
 its
 
 RESTORES THE DIGNITY OF MAtf. 95 
 
 its doctrines with thy whole heart, follow 
 its precepts with ftedfaft fidelity, firmly re- 
 pofe on its prorr.ifes, frame thyfelf upon its 
 founder, Jefus ! The fpirit of Chriflianity 
 will remove every lower fentiment, every 
 unworthy defire from thy foul ; will ele- 
 vate thy fpirit, enlarge thy heart, make 
 thee feel thy powers, and ever tranfmic 
 thee new ; it will raife thee above all that 
 is vifible and earthly, will conflantly give 
 thee a greater refemblance to Jefus, the 
 pattern of all human perfection, and con- 
 flantly unite thee more intimately with 
 God. Animated by the fpirit of Chrftianity, 
 thou wilt juftly efteem every faculty, every 
 talent, every power that God hath given 
 thee, carefully incite and exert them, and 
 conftantly produce as much good by them 
 as thou canft at prefent. Informed by the 
 fpirit of Chriftianity, thou wilt not adt like 
 a ilave ; thou wilt not allow thyfelf to be 
 governed by any fenfual object, or any 
 
 unruly
 
 96 BY WHAT MEANS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 unruly paflion ; thou wilt not cringe with 
 fervility before any mortal ; thou wilt con- 
 ftantly think and aft with generality and 
 freedom. Animated by the fpirit of Chrif* 
 tianity, thou wilt ever be more active, 
 more indefatigable in goodnefs, wilt never 
 be weary in ftriving after the prize that 
 awaits the conqueror. Animated by the 
 fpirit of Chriftianity, thou wilt already 
 t-iink and act, in this the day of thy mor- 
 tality, like an immortal being; and wile 
 perform a thoufand acts of goodnefs, and 
 enjoy a thoufand comforts, which he can 
 neither perform or enjoy who is not fen- 
 lible of his immortality, or cannot rejoice 
 therein. O noble and divine fpirit of 
 Chriftianity ! thou fpirit of wifdom and 
 power, of love and felicity ! may ft thou 
 quicken, warm, and penetrate us all by 
 thy animating influence ! rouze us to the 
 nobleft fentiments of ourfelves ! animate us 
 with a godlike energy, with the moft active! 
 
 zeal
 
 THE DIcrT OF MAN* 97 
 
 zeal in goodnefs, penetrate and warm us 
 witji love towards God and man ! How 
 great, how illuftrious will then our dig- 
 nity be, and how much greater and more 
 illuftrious will it become, from one period 
 of .our lives to another, and from eternity 
 *o eternity ! 
 
 VOL.;. H
 
 ESTIMATE IV. 
 
 THE 
 
 O F 
 
 HUMAN LIFE, 
 
 Let my foul live, and it ftiall praife thee. 
 
 Pialm cxix. 175
 
 THS 
 
 V A L U t 
 
 HUMAN L i F & 
 
 TH defire to live is natural to all 
 men. Neither grief, nor pain, nor 
 misfortune, can totally fupprefs it ; and the 
 generality of men would rather begin agairt 
 their courfe on earth, however globmy, 
 wearifome, or perilous it may have been,- 
 and pafs again- through all its difficulties 
 arid dangers, than have them ended by 
 the lofs of life. Seldom is the burden of 
 mifery fo heavy, aiid the fentiment of it fo 
 troubleforne ; feldorri do paflion and errof 
 Vlind him fo far as tO ; make him re*
 
 102 THEVALUE OF 
 
 fer death to life, and non-entity to ex- 
 ift nee. Very rarely do we find him fo 
 pious and fo holy as to fay from his "heart, 
 with the apofije, " I have a defirc to be 
 " diflblved, and to be with Chrift, which 
 fi is far better." Let us admire a"nd adore 
 the wife goodnefs of our Creator, who hath 
 given us fo innate an attachment to life, fo 
 interwoven and connected it with our na- 
 ture, and thereby fuch a powerful, fuch 
 an- irreiiflible inducement to preferve it! 
 But let us dignify this defire to live, by 
 inveftigating the ground of it, that we may 
 make it ftand the teft of the founded rea- 
 Ibn. To love, and to wilh for life, with- 
 out knowing why or wherefore, is mere 
 animal inftincl: ; but to love it on true and 
 folid principles, and to wifli for it in the 
 mod upright views, will be no diferedit to 
 the philofopher and the chriilian. Thus 
 the Pfalmiit is defirous of it in our text. 
 Let my foul live, fays he to God, Let my 
 foul live, and it ihall praife thee. Would 
 
 we
 
 HUMAN LIP E. 103 
 
 \ve do fo likewife, Sirs, would we thtii 
 wifh for life, that we might truly rejoice 
 in, and praife God for it, then we mufl 
 learn the real value of human life. We 
 muft neither efteerh it as better or a 
 poorer, neither as more important nor 
 more infignificarit, neither as more happy 
 nor more unhappy than it actually is. In 
 one cafe our attachment to it will be too 
 ftrong, in the other not ftrong enough, 
 In both cafes we Ihould more or lefs mif- 
 take its deftination, and feldom make fo 
 good a ufe of it as we might. 
 
 Well then, let us turn our reflections to- 
 day on the value of human life, that we 
 may difcover why, and to what purpofe, we 
 fhould wifh to live. For examining this 
 matter properly, we muft do two things. 
 Firfl mew, what is implied if we would 
 have human life of value, and indeed of 
 great value to us ; and then what gives it 
 H 4 this
 
 ro4 
 
 this value, or, what makcy it defirable aft 
 eftimable to us. 
 
 - If we would have our lives to be of real 
 value to us, and rightly appreciate that 
 value, we muft learn to underitand ir, wff 
 muft feriouity reflect upon it, we rnuft 
 eoniider it on every fide and in its whole 
 circuit ; we muft regard it, not under any 
 falfe appearance which prefent or paft r 
 pleafant or unpleafant fenfations, any for- 
 tunate or unfortunate, accidents may throw 
 upon it. We muft therefore bring into 
 the account its joys as well as its forrows, 
 it's fatisfadtibris as well a* its hardlhips, its 
 days of delight and pleafure, as well as its 
 hours of pain and grief, the good we en- 
 joy or may enjoy, as well as the evil that 
 befals us. We muft confider it, not as 
 the whole of our exiftence, not as the ca- 
 pacity and mcafure of our whole felicity ;- 
 but only as the beginning, as the lowermoft 
 ftep of our rational being, as the prepara- 
 tion
 
 LIFE. 105 
 
 tion to a greater and higher happinefsj 
 and be thereby induced to lay our foun- 
 dation, not on prevailing prejudices, but 
 on iuft experiences, obfervations, and prin- 
 ciples. Whoever, deceived by certain de- 
 fc;iptions, reprefents this earth to himfelf 
 as an inhofpitable defert, as a vale of tears 
 and forrow, as the abode of darknefe aikl 
 mifery ; whoever, in oppofition to univcrfal 
 experience, imagines thst its evils pre- 
 dominate over its &tisfations whoever,- 
 from mifanthropy, or ill- humour, at one 
 time thinks that all mankind are fools, and 
 at another knaves; forgetful of his origin 
 and his vocation, finks him beneath the 
 beafts, or confiders man only as a come- 
 dian that has a part to per-fornv without 
 any farther confequence or view; and when 
 this part is played, falls back to his pri- 
 mitive nothing -, he who comprehends all 
 his profpedb and hopes within the mo- 
 ment of prefent circumilances : for himr 
 thii life can indeed liave no great value, 
 
 to
 
 106 THE VAt IT Cf 
 
 to him it muft be a contemptible object, 
 ivhofe prefervation is of no importance, 
 and the lofs of it not to be lamented. But 
 is this a true reprefentation of human life ? 
 Has then this earth, which God has adorned 
 with fuch numberlefs beauties and pleafures, 
 has it the appearance of a defert ? Is weep, 
 ing and wailing fo frequent or fo loud 
 upon it, that the voice of joy and glad- 
 nefs is no where to be heard ? does not 
 man pafs far more hours in health than in 
 ficknefs ; does he not experience far more 
 bright than gloomy days ? In the whole 
 amount, does not the fum of his agreeable 
 fenfations very far exceed the fum of his 
 tineafy and painful feelings ? Amongft 
 the fools, are there not like wife many in- 
 telligent men, and amongfl the wicked 
 many good ? Is not, upon the whole, much 
 more good than evil pradMfed by them ? 
 And how can the philofopher, the chrif- 
 tian, miftake th* dignity, the nobility, the 
 vocation of man, I mean his reafon, his 
 
 capacity
 
 HUMAN LIFE. 
 
 capacity of conftantly becoming more per- 
 fect, his immortality, and the connexion 
 between what he now is and does with 
 what he is to be and to do for the future ; 
 snd if he does not miftake them, what a. 
 value muft this give to his prefent 1'ife ! 
 
 Should this life then be of great and 
 real value to us, and fhould we confefs and 
 feel that value; then muft we properly 
 employ it, and ufe it to the beft and the 
 moft rational purpofes. We muft live 
 with confcioufnefs, with confederation, upon 
 certain principles and in fettled views. We 
 muft be as aftive as poffible, and active in 
 the beft and the moft generally ufeful man- 
 ner. To live, to live a,s men, does not 
 imply (imply to exift, not barely to have 
 power, but to exert and improve this 
 power, to at inwardly and outwardly, in 
 receiving and communicating happinefs, 
 and to be confcious of it. He who leads 
 a vegetative or an animal life ; he who 
 
 Heeps,
 
 THE VALITE Ofr 
 
 ileeps, dreams, trifles, or diflipates his life 
 away; who lives for the day, without re- 
 flection or thought j who furrendefs himfelf 
 up to idlenefs and floth, or is induftrious 
 \vithout aim or defigh ; exerts his pbwers 
 without any particular view ; is always 
 bufy,and yet does nothing with all his buftle, 
 always feeking happinefs, but never finding 
 it ; to fuch indeed this life muft be an in- 
 iignificant matter. And how great is this 
 laft clafs of men, the clafs of bufy idlers 
 in the world ! men that feem to be for 
 ever employed, and yet in fact do nothing, 
 bring nothing to effeft ; nothing of any 
 importance to themfelves or to others ; 
 nothing that can fecure them any lafling 
 fatisfaction and joy. Free from any fettled 
 employment, from the duties of any par- 
 ticular bufinefs, they undertake now one 
 thing, and then another, and are foon weary 
 fcf both ; they run from one company to 
 another, from one amuferhent to another^ 
 ever raifing great expectations from them, 
 and ever deceived in "their expectations, 
 
 get
 
 HUMAN L IFE^ 109 
 
 get jiothjng from thefe companies, and ac- 
 quire no re'compenfing reflections from the 
 enjoyments of thefe pleafures ; can give 
 no account to themfelves of this applica- 
 tion of their time and of the ufe of their 
 powers ; and, as often as the fentiment,. 
 as ot'u-n as the clear confcioufnefs of their 
 condition arifes within them, fo often do 
 they f' j el the emptinefs of their hearts, the 
 weurilome monotony, that diflatisfaction, 
 the vanity of their pleafures ; are difgufted 
 with life and all its joys, and then exclaim, 
 not from wiidom, but from the involuntary 
 fentiment of their folly, in the words of 
 Solamon, " All, all is vanity!" What great 
 value can there be in life to fuch men as 
 thefe! how much more natural is it that 
 it ihould be a burden, a martyrdom to 
 them! how many have hence been induce4 
 to lay it down as a load they could no 
 longer bear ! No ; for him alone who 
 knows and conftantly purfues the true ends 
 of life ; who has a determinate occupation ; 
 
 who
 
 1 10 TH VALUE F 
 
 who .exerts his powers with confcioufnefs, 
 upon (olid principles, and does good with 
 them ; who can give himfelf a latisfaftory 
 account of what he does and accomplifties 
 with them , who by every ftep he takes, 
 by every day he furviyes, approaches nearer 
 to perfection; who, like a reafonable crea- 
 ture, like a chriftian, fees not barely the 
 prefent, but is continually regarding the 
 future ; lives not barely for this prefent 
 moment of time, but for the unending ages 
 of eternity. The other, the unwife, the 
 fool, the bufy idler, wanders about ii> 
 error, and muft neceflarily at length be 
 weary of his wanderings : while this, the 
 wife man, the chriflian, has a firm period 
 in view, worthy of the ardour with which 
 he purfues his courfe ; he never lofes it 
 from his figlit, and the nearer he ap- 
 proaches it, the brighter it appears be- 
 fore him. 
 
 Laftly,
 
 N LIFE. IW 
 
 ly, if this life is to be of great and 
 real value to us, and if we would know 
 and be (enable of its worth, we muft ef- 
 fedhially enjoy, and enjoy with confciouf- 
 fl.eis, the goods and fatisfadtions it affords. 
 We muft be at leaft as fenfible and fufcep- 
 tible of the good and agreeable, as of the 
 evil and dilaftrous it contains. If we pafs 
 through the world as if our fenfes were 
 ufelefs, or with unfeeling and hardened 
 hearts ; a thoufand beauties that furround 
 us will be unobferved, a thoufand fources 
 of pleafure that invite us to partake of 
 them will be left unexplored ; or if we had 
 rather fcrutinize for defedts, than lookout 
 for perfections ; then, indeed, muft this 
 life appear to u.s under a dark and mourn- 
 ful afpedt, and contain but little value for 
 us. But does any thing lofe of its real 
 value, merely becaufe we do not obferve 
 or negledt to make ufe of its advantages ? 
 No ; we muft open our hearts and our 
 lenies to agreeable impreffions 5 to the im- 
 
 preflions
 
 JI2 THE VALUE OP 
 
 preffions which the advantages, the plea- 
 Aires, the joys of life are endeavouring tp 
 make upon us ; we muft fee, and feel, and 
 ufe, and enjoy the beauties, the beffings, 
 that prefent themfelves to us in fuch di- 
 verfified forms, and invite us to ufe them 
 in fuch various ways ; we muft not trample 
 on the flowers we meet with in the path of 
 life, with haughty difdain; we muft not 
 ungratefully reject the recreations and re- 
 campences of which our heavenly father 
 hath not fuffered the rougheft way tp be 
 totally defthute, and never turn our eyes 
 from that glorious profpedt which termi- 
 nates our view. Only thus ihall we rightly 
 eitimate the intrinfic value of life, and learn 
 to reckon it of high importance, and 
 worthy of our concern. 
 
 And what gives it now this great value ? 
 
 What makes this life fo momentous and 
 
 important ? In-this life we may learn much 
 
 truth and goodnefs j attempt and execute 
 
 i many
 
 H 17 M A N L I f E. ^13 
 
 many good undertakings, enjoy many blef- 
 fings ; and by acting and enjoying render 
 ourfelves fit for (till better and greater 
 things in the future world. 
 
 Four articles which muft give great value 
 to this life, in the eyes of all refle<ling 
 perfons, imperfect as it is. 
 
 Our life is therefore of great value ; firtf, 
 as we may learn in it fo much truth and 
 goodnefs, and may fo much advance our 
 ipiritual perfection. All that concerns us y 
 all the events that befall us, indigence and 
 infirmity, bufinefs and pleafures, joys and 
 forrows, unite themfelves in this regard 5 
 every thing is either caufe, or means, or 
 incitement to improve, to rouze, to exert, 
 to perfectionate our fpiritual powers ; every 
 thing teaches us to think, to conlider, to 
 invefligate ; every thing is ordained and 
 adapted to make us rational of fenfual 
 creatures, of relations to the beads to make 
 
 VOL. I. I us
 
 114 THE VALUE OF 
 
 us the kindred of angels. And how many 
 ideas, how much knowledge, how much 
 illumination of every kind, may we collect 
 in this life by experience, by obfervation, 
 by reflection, by inftmcYion, and by con- 
 verfation \ how the fphere of -our view 
 and comprehension is enlarged every year ! 
 how confiderable is the circuit and extent 
 of human knowledge ! indeed, what xv 
 .know is entremely little in cornparifon with 
 what we do net and cannot know ; but ftill 
 of itfeif is much, much for creatures who 
 are only at the fir ft period of thought ; 
 much fo,r fchblars, for beginners, who only 
 live and think from yefterday, and who are 
 to live. and think for ever. How high has 
 the human fpirit foared in numberlefs re- 
 fpets ! how far has it raifed itfeif abpve 
 vifible things ! it has rifen even up to the 
 divinity, to the fir ft, the eternal caufe of 
 all things, and feels itfeif happy in the 
 adoration of fupreme perfection : Low , 
 much does it comprehend, furvey, and 
 
 compare,
 
 HUMANLIKE. 115 
 
 compare, by meditation ! and where are 
 the limits that it cannot tranfcend ! When 
 has man learned fo much, and fo much 
 cxcrciied himfelf in thought, that he has 
 not much more dill to learn, and may not 
 employ himfelf much better ? Who can 
 reckon up the number of reprefentations 
 that find place in one human mind of or- 
 dinary capacity? and when is the fum total 
 of them fo great, that it may not yet be 
 immenfely increafed ? Indeed, we neithgr 
 can nor ought to be all fcholars, all apply 
 the greateft part of our lives to the invefti- 
 gation of truth, to reflections on invifible 
 things, to the improvement and the aug- 
 mentation of our knowledge. But we 
 may all learn much, actually learn much, 
 and all advance by many considerable ftrides 
 on the way of knowledge and fpiihual per- 
 fection. We may all learn to think, to 
 think with confcioufnefs, to think rati- 
 onally : and if we be wife men, if we be 
 chrifiiaris, \VQ learn to foar above, the 
 I 2 fenfes,
 
 Il6 THE VALUE OF 
 
 fenfes, and to govern ourfelves ; we j earn 
 to be virtuous, to be pious, to adt upon 
 found principles,, from pure and generous 
 motives ; we learn to know God, to love 
 him, to converfe, and to have communi- 
 cations with him ; and the longer we live, 
 and thus employ our lives, fo much the 
 better do We learn all this, fo much the 
 apter are we in all thefe matters, fo much 
 the eafier, and with fo much the better ef- 
 fect, ca'n we apply our mental powers to 
 them ; fo much -the more do we heap up 
 treafures of ufeful knowledge, and jufter 
 views ; fo much the nearer do we approach 
 to perfection. Something may be added 
 to our improvements every year, every day, 
 every hour, and it is purely our own fault 
 when this is not the cafe. Who would 
 not then in this view cry out, with the 
 Pfalmift, " Lord, let my foul live, and it 
 " lhall praife thee !" that it may ever ad- 
 vance in the knowledge of truth, in the 
 knowledge of thee who art the fountain 
 
 of
 
 HUMAN LIFE. II? 
 
 of all truth ; that it may ever be improving 
 its thoughts, and ever learn to employ a\\ 
 its powers in a better and a worthier 
 manner. 
 
 This life is, farther, of great value : it 
 is highly eftimable, as we may attempt 
 and execute much good therein. And, in 
 fact, Sirs, how much may we not do for 
 ourfelves and for others, for the large and 
 the little fociety to which we belong ! how 
 far, either mediately or immediately, may 
 we operate about us ! what a manifold in- 
 fluence, and of what immenfe extent, may 
 we have on the happinefs of our brethren ! 
 and to this purpofe, we nee,d neither be 
 fovereigns, nor minifters of flate, nor he- 
 roes, nor inventors of new difcoveries, nor 
 leaders and teachers of the people i in 
 every condition, in every ftation, in every 
 walk of life, in every lawful vocation, we 
 may daily and hourly effect fome good. 
 We have only to fulfil our duties, to dif- 
 . I 3 charge
 
 llS THE VALUE OF 
 
 charge them continually in the beft man- 
 ncr, conftantly to purfue the path of chrif- 
 tian integrity and virtue, and in every cir- 
 cumftance to do what the love of God and 
 man invites us to ; ib fpread goodnefs in 
 general all around us, afflicting none, and 
 hurting none, but rejoicing thoufands, and 
 being ufeful to thoufands more; What a 
 beneficent influence has order, application, 
 induflry, fidelity, and confcioufnefs in af- 
 fairs, upon all thofe with whom we have 
 to do, who {land in a near or remote con- 
 nection with us ! what a genial light, 
 what a brightnefs does every good, every 
 generous action, throw around it ! and how 
 fruitful is it frequently in as good as ge- 
 nerous actions ! How much may we do by 
 words and works, by our behaviour among 
 the members of our family, our acquaint- 
 ance, our friends, and our fe!lo>v-citizenss, 
 and again by them among others', and pro- 
 bably among people utterly unknown to 
 us, and far diftant from us ! Who can 
 
 number
 
 HUMANLIFE. 119 
 
 number all the blefled confequences often 
 produced by a prudent piece of advice, a 
 word well-fpoken with feeling and energy, 
 a good chriilian dealing, an admonition 
 properly introduced, a magnanimous fa- 
 crifice of fome fuppofed advantage, a pub- 
 lic-fpirited undertaking and will produce 
 in future ? And when are we wanting of 
 an opportunity either to comfort the 
 mourner, to chear the wretched, to affift 
 the indigent, or to fupport fome poor 
 and needy perfon ? When is there a fear- 
 city of opportunities for giving inftrudtion 
 to the ignorant, for the amendment and 
 converfion of the wicked, for confirming 
 and delighting the good, for encouraging 
 and fupporting public eftablifhments for 
 the common good, and by all thefe means 
 to provide for our own ? How few days, 
 how few hours of our lives, without our 
 own fault, pafs quite deftitute of cccalions, 
 quite void of incitements to do fome kind 
 of good, to further our beneficent clefigns, 
 14 or
 
 I2O THEVALUEOF 
 
 or to bring them to effect about us ! May 
 not therefore every day, every hour, we 
 pafs as wife men, as chriftians, increafe 
 the quantity of the good we do, and the 
 fum of human happinefs promoted by our. 
 means ? and how great muft this fuin be 
 in the courfe of a whole life fpent accord- 
 ing to the precepts of chriflian wifdom and 
 virtue ! What think ye, Sirs, is a life, that 
 may be fo rich in good confequences and 
 effects, without any worth ? may it not be 
 of the higheft value ? may not a man fay, 
 upon the foundeft principles, " Let my 
 " foul live, and it fhall praife thee," that 
 it may glorify thee by righteoufnefs and 
 beneficence, and that it may produce more 
 joy and felicity around it ! 
 
 This life has, thirdly, a great value : it 
 is highly eftimable, as we may enjoy fo 
 much good in it. How manifold, how 
 rich, how inexhauftible, are the fources 
 of pleafure, delight, and joy, which God 
 
 kith
 
 HUMAN LIFE. 12 f 
 
 hath opened and fupplied to us, in nature, 
 in religion, in domeftic, in civil, and in 
 human fociety ! Of what various and in- 
 exhauftible impreffions and feelings are we 
 not rendered capable by our fenfes, our 
 undemanding, and our heart ! Certainly, 
 if we were lefs inconliderate, lefs cold and 
 infenfible, than we fo . frequently are, we 
 ihould be aftoniihed at the number of 
 bleffings we daily and hourly enjoy ; we 
 fhould acknowledge, and feel at our hearts, 
 the fuperabundance, the great and mani- 
 feft fuperabundance of good over evil in 
 life ; and, full of admiration and gratitude, 
 fhould exclaim, Lord ! the whole earth, 
 and our whole lives, are full of thy good- 
 nefs ! What delightful fenfations have we 
 had, during the greateft part of our lives, 
 from our health and vigour ! what plea- 
 fure there is connected with eating and 
 drinking, with waking and fleeping, with, 
 employment and reft, with the ufe of our 
 organs of fenfe. and the application of 
 
 our
 
 122 THE VALUE OF 
 
 our mental powers! what delight does 
 filence, and the meditations of retirement, 
 afford us ! and what delights in focial con- 
 vcrfe and the imparting of our thoughts 
 and feelings to others ! what joys do not 
 the father and the mother of a family feel 
 in the comforts of their dwelling, in the 
 enjoyment of domeftic felicity ! what joys 
 are felt by the friend of the heart, and in 
 the fociety of a friend ! and what purer, 
 what higher joys, does the man, the chrif- 
 tian, imbibe, by the pious exaltation of his 
 heart to God, by the public and private 
 adoration of the Moft High, by his com- 
 munications with the fpirit of fupreme per- 
 fedHon ! what fatisfa&ion, what agreeable, 
 what delightful fenfations are we not in- 
 fpired with by every labour fuccefsfully 
 ended, every vanquiihed weaknefs, every 
 furmounted forrow, every good adlion, 
 every advance to perfection, every view of 
 our future felicity ! -and how much' alle- 
 viation of toil, how much animation and 
 
 comfort
 
 H U M AN LI F E. 123 
 
 comfort in forrows, how much help in the 
 hour of need , how much exertion or courage 
 and Strength, in danger, does not a wife and 
 kind providence impart in us, or communi- 
 cate to us ! and how much light is med even 
 on all the gloomy and lefs formnate periods 
 of our lives, nay, what day, what hour of our 
 lives, does not bring with it foms kind of 
 fatisfad;ion and pleafure, either in regard 
 to the goodnefs of our author and pre- 
 ferver, or to the recreation of the wife 
 man, that is, the Chriftian ! And if fome 
 gloomy hours, fome difmal days fucceed, 
 how are they loll among the far, far 
 greater number of more happy, more de- 
 lightful days and hours ! But how much 
 value muft fuch a life be of, that is fo 
 rich in fatisfaclions and joys, to every man 
 of reflection and fentiment ! what a nob!e 
 prefent muft the prefervation and continu- 
 ance of it be in his fight ! and how much 
 reafon has he to pray to God in the words* 
 of the Pfalmifi, " Let my foul live, and it 
 
 " ihall
 
 124 THE VALUE OF 
 
 " fhall praife thee !" that it may enjoy thy 
 bounty, and praife thee with gladnefs and 
 delight ! 
 
 But that which gives the greateft weight 
 to thefe arguments for highly prizing hu- 
 man life, what renders it mod eflimable, is, 
 that during the courie of it we may fit 
 and capacitate ourfelves for better and 
 greater objects in the world to come. 
 Without this profpect, our knowledge and 
 fpiritual perfection would have but little 
 value, our virtue but little attraction and 
 compenfation, our joy but little fatisfac- 
 tion, and Hill kfs continuance. Chiefly 
 by the connection of the prefcnt with the 
 future, by the influence this has upon that, 
 all we now are, and do, and enjoy, is of 
 real importance, and brings unending con- 
 fequences after it. At prefent we can do 
 nothing for becoming wifer, better, and 
 more pious, which does not prepare and 
 fmoothen the way for us to a higher dfe- 
 
 sree
 
 HtfMAM LIFE. 1 2,5. 
 
 grec of perfection and happinefs in the 
 future world. \Ve can now perform no 
 good action which does not produce evcr- 
 lafting fa 1 5 sf act ion. We no-v enjoy no in- 
 nocent, generous delight, which does not 
 render us capable of Hill greater delights, 
 and fecure them to us. We are now work- 
 ing and labouring for eternity. We can 
 now turn our endeavours and toils into 
 pleafurc, forrows into joys, and loifes into 
 gains. Here we may learn ; and there we 
 ihall put what we h.tve learnt to the beft 
 and higheft ufe: here our powers g 
 ftrong by practice ; there they will be ap- 
 plied to loftier things : here we fow good 
 feed ; there we {hall reap of it happinefs 
 and glory : here we make ourfelves fit for 
 ccnverfe with more exalted fpirits ; there 
 we {hall actually enjoy their- converfe : here 
 we m y refemble Jefus, our chieftain and 
 Lord, in virtuous and pious fentiments; 
 there be one with him in glory and blifs : 
 here fatisfy our wilhes by approaching 
 7 nearer
 
 126 THE. VALUE OF 
 
 nearer to the Deity ; there in intimate com- 
 munications with him. The longer then 
 we live in this world, the more good we 
 
 o 
 
 imagine, and perform, and promote, and 
 enjoy here, the greater perfection aud fe- 
 licity await us hereafter. The purer and 
 richer our fowing here, the richer and 
 more glorious will be our harveft hereafter. 
 Thus may every day and every hour of 
 this life contribute to lay the foundation 
 of immarcelFible honours, of ever bloom- 
 ing joys. And Ihall fuch a life, a life fo 
 .great in its conferences, and of everlaft- 
 ing duration, ihail fuch a life be of no 
 great value in our eyes r Shall it not in- 
 fpire us with the wifh of the Ffalrnifl.: 
 " Let my foul live, O God ! and it fhall 
 te praifethee !" that it may here be expert 
 in thy praife, and thereby more worrhily 
 praife thee hereafter ! 
 
 Yes, Sirs, human life is inconteilably 
 of great and real value : a defire of its 
 
 prefervatioa
 
 HU M A N L I F E. 127 
 
 prefervation and continuance is not un- 
 worthy cither of the wife man or the chrif- 
 tian. Tt is the ichool of wifdom, the 
 .fchool of virtue, the firfl flep to our per- 
 fection, an inexhauilible fource of pleafures 
 and joys, the preparatory ftation to a more 
 exalted, to an everlafting life. Rejoice 
 then in it, rejoice in your lives , thank God 
 daily for thefe prefents of his bounty; ac- 
 knowledge and feel its value and its high 
 
 o o 
 
 deftination ; fupport, and fnpport it care- 
 fully ; ufe it worthily ; purfue its affairs 
 with pleafnre and fidelity; enjoy its fatis- 
 fadions and delights with grateful and 
 joyful hearts; bear its hardships and for- 
 rows without murmuring; exercife your 
 gifts and powers ; ftrive conftantly to learn 
 more ufeful knowledge, conftantly to do 
 more good, to enjoy more pure and more 
 generous fatisfadtions, conftantly to become 
 wifer and better, and a greater bleffing to 
 all about you. Never be weary in well- 
 doing, and in promoting the happinefs of 
 
 your
 
 J2$ THE VALUE, &C. 
 
 your fellow-creatures and yourfelvcs, that 
 you may hope inceflantly to reap in due 
 time ; work, like our great leader and pre- 
 curfor Jefus, while it is day, that the 
 night may not come upon you before your 
 taflt be finifhed ; redeem the time with care, 
 and mark as much as poffible every day 
 of your lives with fome good action ; re- 
 gard and treat all things according to their 
 reference with the future, and let the fub- 
 lime, the joyful confideration of a better 
 and an everlafting life be conftantly prefent 
 with your fpirit. 
 
 ESTI-
 
 ESTIMATE V. 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 o p 
 
 HEALTH. 
 
 No man ever yet hated his own flelh ; but nou? 
 fiftieth and cheriflieth it, &c. Ephefi v. 29. 
 
 VOL. I, K
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 O F 
 
 HEALTH. 
 
 IT feems fuperfluous to admoniih man- 
 kind of the great value of health, and 
 to induce them by arguments to fulfill the 
 duties incumbent upon them in this refpedh 
 Who does not readily fhun every thing 
 that is called forrow and pain ? who does 
 not hold his health in high eflimation ? 
 who is not defirous of maintaining and pre- 
 ferving it unimpaired even to extreme old 
 age ? who will flight any thing that he is 
 certain will be prejudicial to him in this 
 regard ? No man, fays the apoftle, ever yet 
 K 2 hated
 
 132 
 
 THE VALITE 
 
 hated his own fkfh ; but nourifheth and; 
 cherifheth it. All this, Sirs, generally 
 {peaking, is very true. But probably we 
 do not confider the matter fufficiently as a 
 duty. Perhaps we do not fet a fufficient 
 value upon health, or not upon right prin- 
 ciples. Perhaps we do not plainly per- 
 ceive how important Chriftianity is in this 
 regard to its true confefTors. And from 
 all thefe caufes we fall into many errors, 
 which, if we had a plainer and jufter con- 
 ception of them, we fhould certainly avoid. 
 Well then, let me fubmit a few fuggeftions 
 to your configuration hereupon. And to 
 this end, let us examine into the value of 
 health ; then confider the duties we have 
 to fulfill in that refpeft ; and, laftly, we 
 will ponder the chriilian dodtrine, to fee 
 how it much is adapted to affift us in the 
 performance of thefe duties, and to pro- 
 mote our felicity even in that refpecl:. 
 
 Heaklr
 
 OFHEALTH. 133 
 
 Health is, doubtlefs, of great value to 
 sis. It is the firft and principal of all the 
 outward bleffings we enjoy ; the ground 
 ; and means of the free enjoyment and beft 
 ufe of all the reft. It far excels all riches, 
 all power, and honour, and every fplendid 
 pre-eminence; which, by the lofs or de- 
 cay of this, muft lofe almoft the whole of * 
 their value. This is a matter which neither 
 : our own experience, nor that of others, will 
 allow us to doubt of. Would you fenfibly 
 feel this truth ? you have only to recoiled: 
 the hours, the days, you have probably paft 
 in ficknefs and pain ; the hours and the 
 days in which you have been difpirited, 
 enfeebled, and utterly unfit for all ufeful 
 occupation; on all the incapacity and aver- 
 iion for the enjoyment of every pleafure 
 and fatisfadtion of life, when you were 
 iighing on a gloomy couch, and under- 
 went, with every returning day, with every 
 returning night, full of reftlefsnefs and 
 anxiety, frefh pains and forrows, and had 
 K 3 to
 
 '34 
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 to dread the total diffblution of your body. 
 And then compare fuch fituation with the 
 activity and chearfulnefs that now animate 
 you while ypu are in health j the delightful 
 fentiment you have of your powers -, the 
 facility and freedom with which you move 
 and ufe your body, and all its members ; 
 the vivacity wherewith you undertake and 
 perform your bufinefs ; the relilh with 
 which you can enjoy the pleafures of life ; 
 the undifturbed tranquillity with which at 
 night you throw yourfelf into the arms 
 of ileep, and the chearful ferenity with 
 which you behold the riling day Or, if 
 you have been fo happy as to have had no 
 perfonal experience of pain and ficknefs, 
 then confider your friends and acquaint- 
 ance, who groan under the burden of fuch 
 afflictions, or lead a life of infirmity and 
 langour, and for a moment place yourfelf 
 in their condition, and fet their circum- 
 ftances againfl your own : and, unlefs you 
 are totally void of fenfibility, a genial con- 
 
 fcioufnefs
 
 OFHEALTH. 135 
 
 fcknifnefs of the high worth of health will 
 flow over your heart, accompanied by the 
 fincereft gratitude towards God ; you will 
 look upon it as the richeft cordial of life, 
 and acknowledge it to be the comfort, with- 
 out which all others have hardly any value. 
 
 And indeed, without health, what are 
 all the beauties, all the bounties, all the 
 delights of nature, and all the joys of fo- 
 cial life ; when all nature appears in feital 
 fplendor to the man in health ; while the 
 unclouded iky, and the variegated earth, 
 enamelled by a thoufand flowers, expand 
 his heart; while he unites in the jubilations 
 of all living creatures rejoicing in existence, 
 with a gladfome fpirit ? The man labour- 
 ing under ficknefs and infirmity difregards 
 ^11 this as nothing, or prizes it at a flender 
 rate. Every thing appears to him in a 
 mournful garb; all nature feems clad in 
 ibrrow, and the world about him empty 
 : iind dead ; the earth without form, and 
 K 4 void,
 
 1^ THE VALUE 
 
 void, and darknefs upon the face of crea- 
 tion. And if he cannot flifle the fweet 
 founds of joy that burft upon his foul ; yet 
 he hears them with inward fadnefs, and 
 feels the irkfomenefs of his life and his 
 own deficiency of joy but fo much the 
 deeper. While the man in health is dif- 
 playing his faculties and powers to the 
 pleafure and advantage of fociety, and 
 bringing his defigns to effect j thereby mag- 
 nifying the value of them even in his own 
 eyes; while he is enjoying the molt di- 
 verfified pleafures, the efteem and love, 
 the friendship of his a cquaintance ; is- 
 finding on all fides entertainment to his 
 mind, food for his fpirit, and comfort to 
 his heart ; and, in all thefe refpects, is able 
 to give as much as he receives : all this 
 time the fick and infirm is confined to his 
 clofe apartment, to his difmal couch, to a 
 fmali circle of people, who probably at- 
 tend him more out of obligation and ne- 
 than from affection, and is perhaps 
 
 a bur-
 
 OF HEALTH. 137 
 
 a burden to himfelf and to others ;; and 
 how eafily may he fink under the weight 
 of unealinefs and forrows, if he has not 
 learnt to find fources in himfelf of fatisfao 
 tion and joy ! No ; without health, there is 
 no real enjoyment of life, no inward chearful 
 fentiment of the faculties of either foul or 
 body, no free and confident exertion of 
 their abilities ; but, inftead, a difmal con- 
 fcioufnefs of infirmity and pain, gloomy 
 recollections of the paft, and anxious con- 
 cerns about future fufferings, dreadful fen- 
 timent of declining faculties, and fear of 
 the conftant threats of their total decay. 
 .And who can reprefent to himfelf thefe 
 difmal circumitances to which mankind is 
 doomed, without feeling the value of their 
 contrails, the importance of health ? 
 
 Health has farther a great value, as a 
 means to higher purpofes, as a means of 
 promoting our intrinfic perfection, and our 
 wfefulnefs in the world. How much are 
 
 3 we
 
 THE V AZ-VE 
 
 we abk to do, if we be but in health! 
 how we are encouraged and animated to all 
 things ! for what labours and what under- 
 takings do we think we have not fufficient 
 ftrength ! what difficulties or obftacles do 
 we allow .to deter us from them ? how 
 much eafier is reflection and every applica- 
 tion and ufe of our mental powers ! how 
 much happier do all our enterprifes tend 
 to fuccefs ! what efforts, and what inde- 
 fatigable perfeverance, does it not allow us 
 to exert ! how little do we make o^ dan- 
 ger I how many adverfe events does it not 
 enable us to bear, without being much 
 <3ifmayed at them ! how capable are xve 
 likewife of performing all the duties of our 
 Ration, even the hardeil, with chearfulnefs 
 and pleafure, and of labouring at our owu 
 felicity, as well as that of our brethren, 
 ivith activity and iuccefs ! how ready to 
 fpread happinefs and joy, of various kinds f 
 on ail around us ! 
 
 How
 
 OF HEALTH. 
 
 How very different is the cafe in general 
 with fuch as are in the oppoiite condition ! 
 how various and how great are the pre- 
 judices which infirmities and the lofs of 
 health draw after them to ourfelves, and 
 to others, in regard of morality, and the 
 performance of the duty of general utility ! 
 The want of health moft commonly weakens 
 and deftroys our fpirits alfo. And when it 
 threatens the ruin of the former, it likewife 
 threatens this with lethargy, inactivity, and 
 lifelefsnefs ; either totally incapacitating 
 us for deep and continued reflection, or 
 making it extremely difficult. It darkens 
 and confufes our former conceptions and 
 ideas, and lays terrible difficulties in the 
 way of every attempt to ftrengthen and im- 
 prove our faculties. It frequently eclipfes 
 every light and truth, and certainty, before 
 our eyes. Darknefs and doubt obfcure 
 pur weakened fpirit ; and our deadened 
 heart can feel the influence of no chearing 
 Jiope, and every femiment of the higher 
 
 and
 
 Z4O THE V A I. US 
 
 and nobler kinds is totally excluded. How 
 
 ofr and how eafily are we reduced by the 
 
 want of health to a gloomy and repining 
 
 temper, to impatient murmurings, to dif- 
 
 contentednefs with our condition, and the 
 
 methods of providence! and how eafily 
 
 may ail this difpirit us in the pnrfuit of a 
 
 fuperior perfection ! how fadly impede us 
 
 from becoming fo wife and fo good as we 
 
 otherwife might i 
 
 I am not ignorant that fufferings, and 
 that of every kind, when rightly deemed 
 of and properly applied, contribute much 
 to our fpiritual perfection, that they are 
 adapted to render us wifer and better. 
 But we need not be afraid, that we ihall be 
 deprived of the advantages of aifluftions, 
 though we perfectly underftand the full 
 value of health, and fulfill our duties in the 
 prefervation of it in ever fo confcientious 
 a manner. The inconftancy of all worldly 
 things, the iiiftability of fortune, the part 
 
 we
 
 07 HEALTH. 141 
 
 take in the welfare of others, fo many 
 unfuccefsful labours, difappointed expec- 
 tations, and in furmoun table difficulties, 
 will always furnifh us with opportunities 
 enough for improvement in the wifdom and 
 virtues of Chriftianity. And then certainly 
 the fruit produced by a ftrong and healthy 
 tree from its natural foil, will be founder, 
 riper, and of a finer flavour, than that 
 which is forced by artificial heat into aft 
 unnatutal maturity. 
 
 This is not all. Still more various and 
 more grievous is the damage occafioned by 
 the lots of health to ourfelves and to 
 others, when we ourfelves are guilty of *t. 
 And we mufl undoubtedly be affe&ed if 
 we examine and judge of the matter on "its 
 moral fide, as in that refpedt it is of the 
 utmoft importance. If we hurt or ruiri 
 our health, we not only inflict a misfortune 
 on ourfelves thereby, but are likewife cruel 
 to thofe who are connected with us, or de- 
 pendent
 
 142 THE VALUE 
 
 pendent on us. We fpread concern, afflic- 
 tion, and grief on all about us, in a nar- 
 rower or a larger circle, according to our 
 fituation in life. We wound and afflidt 
 fome, and drive others to impatience, to 
 anger, and to guilty violation of their duties. 
 Nay, more ; we thereby hurt the whole 
 fociety in wnich we live. We rob it of 
 our fervices, or add to their burdens who 
 had already enough to bear. We deprive 
 ourfelves of the means and the opportu- 
 nities of being ufeful to others, or of pro- 
 moting their advantage in a higher degree. 
 We, perhaps, flop Ihort in the faireft and 
 moft laudable courfe, and leave our befl 
 works and undertakings unfmifhed. And 
 what fources of fatisfaction and pleafure 
 for future times, and even for eternity, do 
 we thus exclude ourfelves from ! 
 
 By impairing and ruining our health, we 
 not unfrequently do an irreparable injury 
 to fuch as have the juftefi title to our whole 
 
 affection,
 
 OF HEALTH. 143 
 
 afFeclion, as being connected with us in 
 the clofeft ties. We cut them off from 
 the advice, the protection, the affiftance, 
 the provifion, they have the ftrideft right 
 to expect from us, and which they cannot 
 fo confidently hope to receive from any 
 other. We thereby plunge them, perhaps, 
 into the utmoft want and diftrefs, bring 
 them to the brink of perdition, and leave 
 them a prey to poverty, fedudion, and 
 mifery. Let parents particularly reflect 
 on this ; and when they are inclined to ex- 
 travagance, intemperance, and pleafure, to 
 violent paffions, or to any thing that may 
 be hurtful to their health, let them caft 
 one ferious compafiionate look at their un- 
 educated, helplefs infants, or children who 
 Hand ftill more in need of their advice and 
 care ; and it muft bring them back to the 
 difcharge of their duties, and make it 
 
 again their delight ! 
 
 t 
 
 Nay,
 
 142 
 
 tHE VALUE 
 
 Nay, it happens not unfeldom, that he 
 who impairs or deflroys his health by irre- 
 gular living, renders himfelf guilty of a 
 crime againft his pofterity, and diffufes 
 mifery and death upon thofe who open 
 their eyes to the light of the world long 
 after he is no more. Children produced 
 from infirm, unhealthy parents, commonly 
 become parents to children ftill more un- 
 healthy and infirm, and thcfe have again 
 a like pofterity, till the race, finking deeper 
 and deeper under the burden of its various 
 difeafes and infirmities, at length dies out 
 and is extincl. 
 
 So variously and fo widely extend the 
 injuries that proceed from, the impairing 
 and the ruining of our health to ourfelves 
 and others, that our account muftbe heavy 
 when we have rendered ourfelves guilty 
 
 of it.- 
 
 
 
 And
 
 OF HEALTH. 145 
 
 And now, Sirs, will any man feek his 
 honour and renown in fuch a practice ? 
 will he venture to call it true courage, or 
 reckon it ftrength of mind, to defpife all 
 care of his health, or not to regard it; to 
 truft to his youth or his ftrength, and at- 
 tack it on purpofe by irregularity and riot, 
 and flight the admonitions of prudence ? 
 No : it is rafhnefs ; it is folly. Undoubt- 
 edly it is folly, for a man willingly to en* 
 danger the lofs of fo invaluable, fo indif- 
 penfable a bleffing as Life, and to occafion 
 fuch manifold, and frequently fuch irre- 
 parable injuries to himfelf and others.. 
 Confider this, all you that are ftill m the 
 bloom of life, and in the pofleffion of all 
 your vigour. Reflect upon it not barely 
 as to the prefent, but alfo to the future. 
 Practife not with your health and flrength, 
 as if they could never be weakened or worn 
 out. Lavifh them not away in the fervice 
 of vice, or a loofe and inordinate conduct. 
 Forget not, that, in advanced years, many 
 
 VOL. I. L occu-
 
 146 THE VALUE 
 
 occupations and duties, many hardfllips 
 and fufferings, await you, which will then 
 fall heavy or gently upon you, as you hav* 
 managed your early years and your youti 
 ful vigour. 
 
 And let no man fay, when he tranfgrcflcs 
 the bounds of moderation in eating and 
 drinking, in the indulgence of anger or 
 any other paffion, "That is my bufmefs ; if 
 I do an injury I do it to myfelf alone ; it 
 is I that muft fuffer and do penance for my 
 folly." Certainly thou wilt, whoever thou 
 art that thinkeft and fpeakeft thus ; thou 
 wilt fuffer and do penance for it, and pro- 
 bably much more, and much longer than 
 thou doft at prefent imagine ; and thou 
 wilt fuffer what thou haft deferred. But 
 thou canft not fuffer alone, others muft 
 fuffer with thee ; and they innocently fuller. 
 Is this no injuftice ? no crime ? does this 
 deferve no punifhment ? or how can a pa- 
 rent, how can any perfon who ftands in 
 
 rela-
 
 OF HEALTH. 147 
 
 relationship to others, weaken his health 
 and deflroy his faculties, and thus render 
 himfelf unfit for his bufinets and the duties 
 of his calling, without injuring at the lame 
 time many others, directly or indirectly, 
 at prefent, or in the fequel, in body or in 
 mind, without diminishing the quantity of 
 abilities, and the good arifing from them 
 -to the common welfare ? 
 
 Can we poflibly reflect upon all this, 
 and entertain the fmalleft doubt that health 
 is of the utmoft importance ; that the abufe 
 of it is highly criminal, and that it is by- 
 no means indifferent how we behave in re- 
 gard ot it ? And how then muft we con- 
 dudt ourfelves in this regard ? what are 
 the duties and obligations we here lie 
 under ? 
 
 We muft, above all things, efteem health 
 
 as a gift of the divine bounty, and as 
 
 granted us for the moft important pur- 
 
 L 2 pofes,
 
 148 THEVALtTE 
 
 pofes, connected as it is with our perfec- 
 tion and happinefs. And here we are to 
 avoid certain falfe conceptions of the little 
 value and low deftination of the human 
 body ; conceptions by which it is not un- 
 frequently reprefented as the prifon, as the 
 dungeon of the foul, the greateft impedi- 
 ment to its perfection. All fuch repre- 
 fentations are the offspring of a gloomy and 
 murmuring turn of mind, or of a heated 
 and fanatical imagination, which mifteads 
 the man to pretend to be more than he is 
 or can be, and, diffatisfied with the rank 
 afligned him by his maker, will exalt him- 
 felf into a totally different clafs of beings* 
 Hence it is, that fenfual defires and plea- 
 fures are confounded with finful defires and 
 pleafures ; and man is delivered over to per- 
 dition for the former as well as the latter, 
 and the body, as the caufe and the inilru- 
 ment of it, is confidered as fomething vile 
 and detrimental to our perfection. No, 
 Sirs, the body, at leaft in our prefent flate, 
 belongs as eflentially to the nature of man, 
 
 as
 
 OF HEALTH. 
 
 as the foul, and the connection of both, 
 makes man to be what he is. As the 
 body, without the foul, would not be a 
 man, but an inanimate, organized body ; 
 fo the foul, without the body, would not 
 be a man, but a fpirit or rather a fpiritual 
 being, whofe thinking faculty would pro- 
 bably never be brought forth into aftion 
 without this connection. Thus the chrif- 
 tian doctrine, that heavenly wifdom is 
 fully adapted to this idea. It always con- 
 fiders man as man, and treats him as man, 
 as a compounded being, and not as a fpirit, 
 confined to this earthly {hell during a feries 
 of years, for its torment. It enjoins us to 
 govern our body and our fenfual defires, 
 but not to defpife and fpoil the one, or 
 exterminate the others. It gives us to ex- 
 pect, after this life, a new, but a more 
 perfect and more durable manfion, of a 
 different kind from the prefent. Neither 
 
 reafon nor fcripture. therefore, command 
 
 
 ps to contemn our body and its welfare ; 
 L 3 but
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 but we are taught by both to prize and ten 
 rcj ice in the health and ftrength of it, as 
 an ineflimable prefent of divine muni- 
 ficence. 
 
 But, if it be fo great a privilege, fo great, 
 a prefentj then is it further our duty, on 
 one hand, to avoid all things that may de- 
 prive us of it, or difturb us in the poflef- 
 fion or enjoyment of it , and, on the other, 
 to negleft nothing that may- maintain or 
 improve it. On this head you do not cer- 
 tainly exped: me to give particular pre- 
 fcriptions. Every one muft judge for him. 
 felf, according to the nature of his con-' 
 ftitution, paffions, bufinefs, obfcrvations, 
 and experience. 
 
 Every perfon mud in this refpect pay at- 
 tention to himfelf ; obierve the noxious or 
 \vholefome efT-its, which outward things, 
 as well as the inward changes of his tem- 
 per, have upon his body and his health ; 
 
 his
 
 OF HEALTH. 
 
 his ccnftitution, his faculties, his affairs, 
 his circumftanees, mult be compared and 
 contrafled together; and he muft then con- 
 dud: himfelf by the judgements arifing 
 from repeated and careful obfervations. 
 We mult however, and this is what, as 
 a teacher of religion, 1 am to enjoin you, 
 and I can, with the greateft affurance do 
 it, we muft ftudy temperance, peace of 
 mind, and fatisfadtion ; we muft follow a 
 bufy, a laborious, and innocent life, free 
 from all anxious and unchriftian cares : we 
 muft judge of the good or bad condition 
 of things, of their utility or their hurtful- 
 nefs, not barely from their prefent effects, 
 but from their future confcquences, what, 
 fooner or later, they may, and probably 
 will produce ; we muft lay it down as an 
 inviolable law, never, never, for the fake 
 of a Ihort prefent pleafure, to run the 
 hazard of impairing our health, or of lay- 
 ing the foundation of longer fufferings in 
 future, or of continued infirmity ; fo 
 L 4 neither
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 neither muft we ever fhun any matter 
 merely becaufe it is at prefent difagreeable 
 and difficult, or lays fome reftraint upon 
 us; we mud, in fine, .never forget that 
 our powers are circumfcribed, that we can- 
 not exhauft them without detriment and 
 danger, that we muft deal ceconomically 
 with them, and that we lhall always be 
 able to execute more by them, if we ufe 
 them for a confiderable feries of years with 
 prudent moderation, than if, by a too fe- 
 vere and uninterrupted exertion of them, 
 we fhould Ihortly render them utterly un- 
 ferviceable. 
 
 Again, we muft not, and this is a third 
 duty we have to obferve in this refpedt, 
 we muft not pamper our body, not leave 
 our powers to ftagnate for fear of exhauft- 
 ing them ; never decline any duty for fear 
 of hurting our health ; and, if we do but 
 lead a temperate and regular life, not fre- 
 quently, notanxioufly dwell on all the poffi- 
 ble confequences of every, even the fmalleft 
 
 and
 
 OF HEALTH, 153 
 
 and moft indifferent action of our lives, or 
 on every fcarcely perceptible alteration in our 
 body. Leaft of all muft we be fwayed by 
 this timidity, or this anxiety, in our moral 
 conduct, in what we owe to God and to 
 our neighbour. No ; our duty muft be 
 the weightieft of all weighty concerns. 
 This we muft punctually endeavour to dif- 
 charge, as often as it comes in our way 
 and we have ability for it, even though the 
 confluences of it, in regard to our health, 
 ftiouJd not always be the beft. Thefe 
 confequences we muft cheerfully confign 
 to our Father in heaven, who has laid 
 thefe duties on us, and has given us that 
 power and opportunity to fulfill them, and 
 leave it entirely to his pleafure, how long 
 or how fhort, and in what meafure we may 
 promote his views in the world, and the 
 benefit of our fellow- creatures. Eftimable 
 as health and life may be, yet both of them 
 Jofc their value, when they are purchafed 
 by an intentional omiffipn of duty, by a 
 
 conduct
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 conduct in oppofitlon to the will of God, 
 and, therefor: at the expence of his good 
 pleaiure and a quiet confcience, or are to 
 be preferved by becoming an inactive, 
 ufelefs,. or a hurtful member of human 
 fociety. Even in this refpedt may it be 
 faid, Whofoever will fave his life (by the 
 facrifice of his confcience and his duty) 
 fliall lofe it ; and \\ hofoever will lofe his 
 life for my fake (for the fake of integrity 
 and virtue) fhall find it. 
 
 This is the rational, the chriftian con- 
 cern for our health ; a concern that is ade- 
 quate to the great value of it. 
 
 If we would fulfill our duties in general 
 relative to this fubjedt, we muft take the 
 dodtrine of Jefus to our affiftance. It is 
 in an extraordinary manner adapted to fa- 
 cilitate our performance of thefe duties, 
 and to promote our happinefs in this re- 
 
 gard.
 
 OF p E A L T H. 155 
 
 gard. A few fhort obfervations will fet 
 this matter beyond a doubt. 
 
 The great command of the chriftian 
 doctrine is love, love towards God and man. 
 It propofes this as the foundation ot all our 
 duties, and builds our whole felicity upon 
 it. If then we faithfully apply ourfelves 
 to this injunction : if we are fincerely ani- 
 mated by this love ; the health of our 
 body mud neceflarily gain gready by it. 
 For envy, hatred, anger, malice, and re- 
 venge, are not only ruinous to our fpirit, 
 jjut deftrudtive to our body ; and, in like 
 manner, love, kindnefs, gentlenefs, and 
 friendship, are beneficial and chearing to 
 them bDth. As uny bafe and violent paf- 
 fion, like a m^rp poifon, excites diforder 
 and tumult in th^ human frame, and fe^s 
 not only the thoughts, but likewife the 
 blood and mufclcs in the mod hurtful 
 commotion, and at the fame time keeps 
 them in a conllant fermentation ; io, on 
 
 the
 
 156 THE VALUE OF 
 
 the contrary, the gentle and humane dif- 
 pofitions of benevolence and love, produce 
 peace and tranquillity, regularity and har- 
 mony in the body as well as the foui ; al- 
 low no inordinate emotion to fwell into vi- 
 olence, but diffufe life and joy. like a pre- 
 cious ointment, over all the human crea- 
 ture. And how beneficent, how falutary 
 muft the love of God likewife be in this 
 refped: ! If we meditate upon him with a 
 fteady complacency, with delight and filial 
 affurance ; if we conftantly enjoy his bounty, 
 and are ever perceiving and feeling frefh 
 teilimonics of his fatherly providence ; if 
 we revere his hand in all that happens, as 
 the hand of the wifeft and molt gracious 
 parent of the univerfe j if we never forget 
 that we live under his guardianfhip and in- 
 fpection ; if we expect of him only good, 
 and what we are convinced muft be the 
 beft for us ; and he who loves God does 
 all this ; how much courage, how much 
 life and joy mufl this infufe into our frame ! 
 
 From
 
 OF HEALTH. 157 
 
 From how many gnawing cares, from how 
 many anxious troubles, muft this fecure 
 us ! how many kinds of fear and terror 
 muft this preferve us from ! how very 
 much muft it alleviate the unavoidable 
 hardfhips of life ! and who but muft per- 
 ceive what a falutary influence all this muft 
 have on the maintenance of our powers, 
 the chearfulnefs and health of mankind ? 
 
 Chriflian love inculcates temperance 
 upon us. Not only temperance in regard 
 to eating and drinking, and all other kinds 
 of fenfual pleafure; but moderation alfo 
 in regard of our deiires and endeavours 
 after riches .and honour, after importance 
 and power, and all other external advan- 
 tages. It teaches us not to look upon 
 thefe things as our fupreme felicity, not as 
 neceffary and indifpeniable parts of our 
 happinefs, not as the ultimate object of 
 our hopes and wiihes : and if we do wifh 
 for them and feek them, yet our defires 
 
 will
 
 I/;8 THE VALUE OF 
 
 will not turn into paffions, and our en- 
 deavours will not be accompanied by rell- 
 lefs anxiety, i o whom is k not apparent, 
 how advantageous fuch a moderation muft 
 be even in regard to his health ? When 
 any one, with u paffionate ardour, drives 
 after riches and honours, or other tranfi- 
 tory goods, his ftrength is foon exhaufted ; 
 and when he meets with any difappoint- 
 ment, any unexpected obftacle, any tri- 
 umph of his adverfary or competitor, he 
 is on every fuch occafion thrown out of his 
 temper, his blood becomes feverilh and 
 inflamed, or he finks into a dark and 
 gloomy defpondency, which, like a fubtile 
 poifon, undermines his health. At all this 
 the man of chriflian moderation is un- 
 moved. He has learnt with the Apoftles,. 
 in the fchool of Jefus, to be fatisfied with 
 whatever he has ; how to fuffer want, and 
 how to abound, and withal to be content. 
 The repofe of his mind may at times be 
 ruffled, but never deftroyed. At times he 
 
 may
 
 OF HEALTH. 159 
 
 may feel ftronger and inordinate emotions 
 and fenfations, but they will never fwell 
 into ungovernable and deftru&ive paffions. 
 And now man} dangers he thus avoids, in 
 regard to his health, and his life ! 
 
 The chriftian doftrine excites its fol- 
 lowers to chearfulnefs and joy, and fupplies 
 them with the belt motives thereto. It 
 frees them from all needlefs cares, and 
 infpires them with a genial courage. It 
 teaches them to be fatisfied with God, with 
 themfelves, with the world, with the flate 
 in which God hath placed them ; it ac- 
 cuftoms them to fix their attention more 
 upon the good than upon the evil that is 
 in the world and amongft mankind, and 
 to enjoy all the good they can whenever 
 and wherever, and with whomfoever, they 
 find it. And this keeps their mental powers 
 clear, and opens to them, on all fides, 
 fources of fentiments as virtuous and in- 
 nocent as they are lull of joy. Now, afk 
 
 the
 
 l6o THE VALVE OP 
 
 the phyfician how much fuch a ilate of 
 mind and fpirits contributes to the main- 
 tenance or reftoration of health and ftrength, 
 He will tell you, that in moft cafes, what 
 his whole art has not been able to effedt 
 in many years, ferenity of mind and chear- 
 fulnefs of fpirit has brought to pafs in a 
 few months, or ftill fewer days. 
 
 The chriftian doftrine gives us, in fhort, 
 great and certain hopes in regard to fu- 
 turity. It promifes us the affiftance and 
 protection of the Almighty in whatever be- 
 falls us. It opens to us the faireft prof- 
 peels in a better and an everduring life 
 after death. It therefore defpoils this 
 enemy of its terrors, and tranquillizes us in 
 every misfortune and difafter by the expec- 
 tation of a felicity, which fatisfies all our 
 defires, and amply makes up for all the 
 v/ants and all the fufferings of this mortal 
 life. And no difpofition of the foul, ac- 
 cording to the belt judges of human nature. 
 
 3 is
 
 is fo adapted to the comfort and fupport 
 of our faculties and health as hope which 
 is not counteracted or diminifhed by any 
 anxious doubts, as the chearful view into 
 futurity incapable of failure or decay. 
 
 We muft conclude from all that has 
 been faid, how comfortable the dodtrine 
 of Jefus is. Probably you have never re- 
 flected on the vaft influence it may have on 
 your bodily health. And yet nothing is 
 more certain. Nay, it renders the whole 
 man, I mean the man whofe fpirit is ani- 
 mated and governed by it, it renders him 
 wholly happy in body and foul, both in 
 the prefent and the future world. Oh, let 
 this confirm and firengthen you in efteem 
 and love for that divine dodtrine to which 
 you are indebted for it. Make yourfelves 
 more and more acquainted with its maxims, 
 which exalt the foul, comfort the heart, 
 and perfect the entire man ; follow its 
 precepts more firmly and faithfully, which 
 
 VOL. I M all
 
 162- THE VALUE 
 
 all tend to your felicity. Let the love of 
 God and man refide and predominate in 
 you; exercife yourfelves in chriftian mo- 
 deration ; endeavour to kindle and improve 
 in you, by a right way of thinking, by an 
 innocent and virtuous life, a fettled and 
 chearful confidence ; fix your hopes more 
 ftrongly on a bleffed immortality, and learn 
 to enjoy your future happinefs by antici- 
 pation : fb will you fecure the health and 
 ftrength of your body, as well as promote 
 the health and ftrength of your foul, re- 
 move a thoufand dangers and calamities 
 far from you, be lefs fenfible to the un- 
 avoidable inconveniences and hardfhips of 
 life, much more fully enjoy its fatisfac- 
 tions and pleafures, and by every poffibie 
 means be happy* 
 
 ESTI-
 
 ESTIMATE VL 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 OF 
 
 man's life confifteth not in the abundance of the 
 things which he pofleffeth. Luke xii, 15. 
 
 M 4 THE
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 RICHES. 
 
 THE judgements that mankind have 
 pa{Ted upon the value of riches have 
 been in all times very various ; and are 
 even {till as different as the views, the 
 cupidity, the circumftances, the wants, 
 and underftandings of men. With fome, 
 riches are accounted every thing; with 
 others, they are held for nothing. To 
 thofe they are the mofl eflential, the moft 
 excellent good; to thefe, the moft con- 
 temptible tram ; to thofe, the means of 
 ]iappinefs nay, happinefs itfelf j to thefe, 
 M 3 the
 
 1 66 THE VALUE 
 
 the way to perdition, the fource of cares 
 and mifery. Some maintain the moft ftre- 
 nuous endeavour after riches to be a worthy 
 and an honourable employment ; others 
 think they would leflen and degrade thcm- 
 felves by the purfuit of them. The former 
 have the votes of the greateft part of man- 
 kind in their favour ; while the latter have, 
 indeed, all the philofophers on their fide, 
 but very few of the other defcriptions of 
 men. They are both, Sirs, in the wrong. 
 The one fort attribute too much to riches ; 
 and the other afcribe them too little value. 
 The one turns what only is and can be a 
 means to happinefs, into happinefs itfelf ; 
 and the other confounds riches with ava- 
 rice, or with their abufe. Mankind have 
 generally beheld, and they flill for the 
 moft part behold, riches in the view of pof- 
 feffion, not in the ufe of them, and regu- 
 late their judgements accordingly ; and, 
 then the fevere moralift is undoubtedly 
 more in the right than his opponent, 
 
 3 The
 
 OF RICHES. 167 
 
 The value of riches, in this refpeft, 
 namely, in regard to pofleffion and ufe, 
 is otherwife and generaly better eftimated, 
 than it was twenty, or, perhaps, ten years 
 ago. It happens now, comparatively, but 
 feldom, that riches are amafled merely for 
 the fake of amaffing, that men ftrive to be 
 rich, or heap together, only that tHey may 
 poflefs much. At prefent all are inclined 
 to enjoy, all make ufe of their poffeffions 
 or their wealth. And in all probability, 
 if the prefent tafte continues, fome thirty 
 or forty years hence, very few immenfely 
 rich perfons will be feen among us. At 
 any rate, the prefent is the fmaller error 
 of the two. Enjoyment is better than pof- 
 feffion. A moderate property that a man 
 makes ufe of, is better than a greater un- 
 employed. But every kind of enjoyment 
 and ufe is not equally innocent ; every one 
 is not worthy ; only one can be the right. 
 And then likewife this judgement of 
 the value of riches, however juft it may be, 
 M 4 is
 
 l68 THE VALUE 
 
 is not therefore complete. We muft con- 
 iider them, not only in regard to pofleffion 
 and enjoymeur, but alfo to their acquifi- 
 tion ; not barely attend to their influence 
 on our outward circumftances, but like- 
 wife to their influence on our natural and 
 moral perfection ; and then pafs judge- 
 ment on them, not in refpedt of ourfelves^ 
 but of fociety at large. 
 
 Our Saviour gives us in the text the 
 true ground for fixing the value of riches. 
 A man's life confiileth not jn the abun- 
 dancce of the things which he poflefleth. 
 That is, No one will be happy merely be- 
 caufe he is rich. And yet, fuch numbers 
 of perfons think, perhaps, the generality 
 of mankind, that nothing, abfolutely no- 
 thing but riches is wanting to make them 
 happy ? But Jefus knows us, and all our 
 wants much better than we commonly do 
 ourfelves. To be happy, it is neceflary 
 that we fh^uld Jiavc a found and a right 
 
 under-
 
 OF RICHES. 
 
 '69 
 
 vmderftanding, a tender, pious, and con- 
 tented heart ; and he that pcffeiTes fuch a 
 mind and fuch a heart, is happy, be he 
 poor, or be he rich ; and he to whom thefe 
 are wanting, can never be happy, even 
 though he abound in all manner of plenty. 
 We will not, however, reft merely in this 
 declaration, however true and important 
 it be, but endeavour to make the matter 
 clearer, by ftating the nature and texture 
 of it. 
 
 Riches, confidered in themfelves, with- 
 out regard to their ufe and employment, 
 have no value whatever, This is clear to 
 every reflecting perfon. What would it 
 avail me, who at the utmoft can only hope 
 to live feventy or eighty years in the world, 
 if I could heap together and put into fafe 
 cuftody fo great a flock of provifions, of 
 raiment of every kind, of the implements 
 of conveniency and pleafure, as in the 
 fpace of two or more centuries I could 
 
 neither
 
 170 
 
 THE VALUil 
 
 neither confume, nor ufe, nor enjoy ? Sup- 
 pofe now money, gold and filver, in the 
 {lead of thofe provifions, thofe cloaths, and 
 thofe inftruments of conveniency and plea- 
 fu re;, will they have acquired a greater 
 value becaufe I have changed them into 
 metal ? Is this metal any thing but the 
 mark or token of my pretenfions on fo 
 much provifion, cloaths, and the means of 
 conveniency or pleafure? and is not the 
 token as infignificant to me as the mate- 
 rials themfelves, if I do not or cannot ufe 
 them ? Should I not be in the fame fitua- 
 tion as a man who would have daily an 
 hundred difties placed before him at table, 
 all prepared and kept for him alone, and 
 yet could only dine on one, and that a little 
 one ? or of a man who pofleffed a hundred 
 convenient and elegant manfions of his own 
 property, and yet could only dwell in one ? 
 This then is a plain proof, that riches, 
 without regard to the ufe of them, are 
 coining ; deferve not the fmalleft eftima- 
 
 tion.
 
 F RICHES. 171 
 
 tion, nor are worth the leaft endeavours to 
 obtain. And on this fide muft the gene- 
 rality of philofophers, antient and modern, 
 have considered them, when they pro- 
 nounced them to be only falfe appearances, 
 and enjoin their difdples to defpife them 
 altogether, or to behold them with in- 
 difference. 
 
 But there is undoubtedly another and a 
 better fide, whereon they appear a real 
 bleffing, or as the means for procuring us 
 true and iolid bleffings ; a fide on which 
 they deferve the efteem and moderate en- 
 deavours of the wife man, and even to the 
 chriftian are not to be held indifferent. 
 On this fide we will now confider them, 
 for fixing their real value. We will fee 
 what they are and may be in refpecl: to 
 their pofleflbr, and what in refpecl to the 
 whole fociety. 
 
 In
 
 172 THE VALUE 
 
 In regard to their pofleflbr, riches that 
 have been earned have a greater value than 
 thofe obtained by inheritance. I pre-fup- 
 poie that a man has employed the lawful 
 means, without wounding his confcience, 
 or neglecting his higher duties ; and that 
 he has procured them not by one or a few 
 fortunate circumftances, but by a regular 
 and continued induftry. He that arrives 
 at opulence by this means, cannot but 
 have promoted his real intrinfic fpiritual 
 perfection thereby ; and in the very ob- 
 taining of it has found an actual and laft- 
 ing benefit thereby, without any regard to 
 the pofleffion or enjoyment of it. For by 
 thus procuring wealth he exercifes his 
 mental faculties, excites, improves, and 
 ftrengthens them. The bufinefs he carries 
 on ; the plans he forms ; the experiments 
 he makes ; the connections he enters into 
 with others, and which they maintain with 
 him ; the favourable or unfavourable cir- 
 cumitances that arife ; the various difpo- 
 
 fitions
 
 OFRICHES. 173 
 
 fitions of the perfons with whom he has to 
 do; the multifarious revolutions in tafte 
 and fafliion, fometimes advantageous, and 
 fometimes adverfe to him ; the fudden and 
 unexpected turns that certain things and 
 bufinefies take ; the dangers which threaten 
 him; the delightful profpefts that open 
 to his view ; the frequent changes of for- 
 tune, and the uncertainty of all human af- 
 fairs; all thefe excite obfervation, reflec- 
 tion, attention, confideration, perfpicuity, 
 forefight, courage, fortitude, difcernment 
 of character, and knowledge of the world. 
 He muft compare a hundred and a hundred 
 things with each other, combine them, and 
 never loie them from his %ht. He muft 
 lay plans, execute them as time and occa- 
 fions ferve, alter them, contract, extend, 
 and leave them to their courfe. He muft 
 fee at once the paft, the prefent, and the 
 future ; muft now work without vifible 
 profit, now purpofely fuffer lofs, that he 
 may thereby aiiure himfelf of greater ad- 
 vantage
 
 174 THE VALUE 
 
 vantage or gain hereafter; muft now retreat, 
 and now ftand ftill; now refolve on the fpot, 
 and then deliberate warily ; now repair paft 
 errors, and then beware of frefli miftakes. 
 And what a multitude of mental exertions 
 does all this require ! how much more 
 confident, acute, and confiderate, muft he 
 be, how much greater knowledge both of 
 men and things mufl he have, who has 
 been twenty, thirty, or more years in ac- 
 quiring riches, and that by hard and toil- 
 fome means ! I fay, how much farther 
 mufl he be advanced in all thefe refpe<ffo, 
 than he would have been, if he had pafied 
 all this time in inactivity, or had only earned 
 a bare fubfiftence by an eafy and flight em- 
 ployment ! And if he be at the fame time 
 a virtuous and pious man, what opportu- 
 nities, and demon ft rations and experiences 
 of fincerity, fidelity, equity, philanthropy, 
 greatnefs of mind, beneficence, integrity, 
 moderation, conflancy, difcretion, and con- 
 fidence in God, muft he have had all this 
 time, which 5 in the oppofue fituation, he 
 
 could
 
 OF RICHES. 175 
 
 could not have met with ! and how much 
 mull he be ftrengthened and confirmed 
 in all thefeVirtues ! Certainly the acquiring 
 of his wealth muft have been of great and 
 real value to him ; and if, through fome 
 unavoidable accidents, he fhould come to 
 lofe the fruits of his induftry, yet will his 
 principal advantages ftill remain with him ; 
 he will thereby have improved and pro- 
 moted his fpiritual perfe&ion for all future 
 times. 
 
 But as the acquiring of riches is an ex- 
 cellent means for the difcovery and appli- 
 cation of our mental faculties ; fo is the 
 temperate ufe and the prudent employment 
 of riches, once acquired, no lefs, and 
 thereby alfo become of real value to the 
 polTefTor. What advantage, what actual 
 and lafting advantage, will they not fecure 
 him, if he employ them in a wife and chrif- 
 tian manner ! How many means of inftruc- 
 tion, and mental pleafure, may he by their 
 
 mean
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 means obtain, which without them he muft 
 abfolutely forego ! how much time may 
 he employ in the cultivation of his mind, 
 in the augmentation of his knowledge, in 
 the improvement of his tafte, in the amend- 
 ment of his heart, which he was before ob- 
 liged to confume in hard, difpiriting, and 
 fervile labours ! how many inftrudtive con- 
 verfations with wife and good men may he 
 now enjoy, to whom hitherto he probably 
 could never gain accefs ! how many con- 
 veniencies and delights of domeftic and 
 focial life may he now be blefled with, 
 which hitherto he had no right to pre- 
 tend to ! 
 
 And what ihall I fay of the pleafures of 
 beneficence ? What value have riches to 
 him who knows how to employ them 
 aright ! hoiv much more comfort, and help, 
 and life, and joy, may he fpread around 
 him! how many more tears may he wipe 
 from the eyes of the poor and needy ! how 
 
 much
 
 OFRICHESt 177 
 
 much oftener may he be fight to the blind, 
 feet to the lame, a father to the orphan, 
 and a fupport to the widow ! how much 
 more frequently may he fupply the place 
 of Jefus, the helper and faviour of men, 
 among his brethren ! how much more fub- 
 ftantially may he eftablilh and fupport ufe- 
 ful inftitutions for the public good, than 
 when he was neceffitous himfelf, or was 
 forced to confine his gains to the fupply of 
 his own perfonal wants ! and when he may 
 do this, and actually does it, and has a 
 heart to feel the charms of doing good, 
 how dear, how ineftimable muft his riches 
 be to him, as often as he employs them 
 to fuch noble purpofes ! what a fource of 
 felicity, of pure human and godlike joy, 
 muft they then prove to him, which, while 
 they lay unufed, or mifem ployed in folly 
 and vice, had not the fmalleft worth ! 
 
 In fliort, Sirs, riches have, in another 
 
 point of view, a very great value in regard 
 
 VOL. I. N of
 
 178 THE VALUE 
 
 of their pofleflbr, only, however, in re- 
 gard to the beft and vvorthieft of fuch as 
 have them. Riches are the means of the 
 moft perfect independency, and thereby of 
 freedom of judgement concerning truth 
 and falfehood, right and wrong, honour 
 and fhame ; the means of a firm and manly 
 behaviour towards high and low, fuperiors 
 and inferiors; 'a means of fupporting and 
 promoting civil and religious freedom. 
 The lefs a man is concerned about his 
 own fupport and advancement in the world, 
 the lefs his circumftances depend on the 
 approbation and opinions of others; the 
 more he can facrifice of his own fortune 
 and not feel the lofs of it, the more he can 
 fpare without becoming poor, or fuffering 
 want j fo much the lefs temptation has he 
 to flatter others, to debafe himfelf before 
 the great and mighty by any cringing car- 
 riage, implicitly to fubfcribe to their judge- 
 ments, or feek to gain their favour by cri- 
 minal compliance or flavilh obedience ; fo 
 
 much
 
 OFRICHES. 179 
 
 much the more freely can he think and de- 
 termine for himfelf, and follow his own 
 underftanding, his own feelings, and his 
 own delires ; fo much the more is he at>le 
 to fupport the feeble, to comfort the weary, 
 and to relieve the opprefled ; fo much the 
 more forcibly can he take the part of the 
 innocent; fo much more courageoufly can 
 he with (land the mifufe of power, the" 
 fchemes of arti0ce, the attacks and the 
 confederacies of the wicked ; fo much the 
 lefs will he fcruple to oppofe prevailing 
 prejudices, diforders, and follies, and dif- 
 tingutih himfelf from others by an undi- 
 minilhed love of truth, an unmaken in- 
 tegrity, by a free and impartial eflimation 
 of men and things, and by a (Iriit, or, if 
 you pleafe to call it fo, an auftere courfe 
 of virtue. Happy, refpedtable men, who 
 thus employ your wealth, on vvhofe prin- 
 .ciples and condufl it has this effecvt ! To 
 them it is an ineftiuiable gift of Pro- 
 N 2 vidence;
 
 l8o THE VALUE 
 
 vidence ; to them it is affuredly of a great 
 and never-ending value ! 
 
 
 
 But riches unquestionably are of great 
 value in refpedt of the whole community 
 at large ; that is, it is ufeful and profitable 
 to fociety, that what are called the goods 
 of fortune are not to be diftributed in equal 
 parts among the members of it, but that 
 fome fhould poflefs a fuperfluity of them. 
 The wealth that is not fuffered to lie idle, 
 but is employed in acquiring more, or is 
 difperfed abroad and kept in circulation, 
 in'creafes the flock of life and activity among 
 mankind. It promotes induftry and la- 
 bour, and the diligence of the whole fo- 
 ciety. Here it calls forth mechanical, 
 and there mental powers, to the advance- 
 ment of the general good. To thofe it is 
 an incitement and means to the difcovery 
 of ufeful and agreeable things ; while it 
 furniihes an opportunity to thefe for fuit- 
 able imitations and improvements of the 
 2 materials
 
 OFRICHES. iSl 
 
 materials of conveniency and pleafure al- 
 ready difcovered. 
 
 The more rich members and men of 
 property any fociety has, fo much the lefs 
 has the hufbandman, the artificer, the artift, 
 the merchant, or the fcholar, to fear left 
 his labour fhould be in vain ; fo much the 
 more encouragement have they all to pur- 
 fue their works with joy, to exert their 
 talents and dexterity to the utmofl, and to 
 carry their workmanfhip and commerce to 
 the higheft degree of perfection. 
 
 By riches many of the pleafures and con- 
 veniences of life are rendered more com- 
 mon ; the tafte is refined for what is beau- 
 tiful, folid, and good , the flock of ufeful 
 knowledge is increafed ; the roughnefs of 
 manners is foftened ; and all thefe advan- 
 tages extend themfdves gradually farther 
 and wider even among thofe ranks and 
 dalles of men which are not rich, but are 
 N 3 yet
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 yet capable of greater improvement, and 
 a pleafanter kind of exiftence. 
 
 By riches various nations and countries, 
 fome near and fome remote, are more 
 clofely connected together. They have 
 more fellowfhip with each other, can mu- 
 tually impart their goods and produce, the 
 fruits of their induftry, the works of art, 
 - the light of the fciences, and a thoufand 
 thing? which promote their perfection and 
 happinefs; where formerly every nation, 
 every country, every man was confined to 
 what his own ground, his own induftry, his 
 own (lock of talents and powers, was able 
 to produce. By the circulation of wealth, 
 therefore, every one works for all, and all 
 for every one ; and hence the produces of 
 the moft diftant regions, the works and 
 manufactures of the remotefl nations, the 
 thoughts and intelligence of the wife of 
 countries feparated by the largeft continents 
 or feas, are improved a thoufand ways, 
 
 dif-
 
 i8 3 
 
 difleminated, tranfplanted, multiplied, em- 
 bellifhed, and bring forth on every fide, in 
 a greater or lefs degree, in one manner or 
 another, lire, activity, pleafure, joy, know- 
 ledge, and the enjoyment of good. 
 
 How many difficult, but important and 
 ufeful matters, in fhort, could neither be 
 undertaken, nor completed, without the 
 help of riches ! matters, in the undertaking 
 of which a man mufl venture much, in the 
 profecution of them mufl long remain 
 without profit or reward, which muft be 
 both begun and profecuted in the bare 
 hope of a future, far diftant, and uncertain 
 utility ! how many good eftablifhments 
 would never have been founded, how many 
 products of nature would never have been 
 wrought up, how many kinds of induilry 
 would never have been difcovered or pur- 
 fued, how many branches of commerce 
 would never have been cultivated or rei.- 
 dered flourifhing, if fociety had contained no 
 N 4 wealthy
 
 184 THE VALUE 
 
 wealthy members, who, from benevolence 
 towards their brethren, or even from felf- 
 intereft and the defire of renown, or only 
 from an uncommon degree of activity, had 
 not undertaken and promoted fuch things, 
 and employed and devoted coniiderable 
 fums to the planning and commencing the 
 profecution and completion of them ! 
 
 Riches have undeniably a real value, no 
 lefs in regard of their poffeffbr than of fo- 
 ciety at large. They are capable of pro- 
 moting the actual benefit and advancing 
 the happinefs of both in various ways. 
 Confidered in this manner, they are no 
 falfe ornaments, but a fubftantial good. 
 They are by no means to be defpifed and 
 rejected as fuch, but merit the efteem and 
 the temperate endeavours of the wife 
 
 But what is the confequence, Sirs, of 
 this flatement of riches, if we reckon them 
 for exactly what they are ? 
 
 It
 
 OF RICHES. 185 
 
 It follows from thefe principles, that 
 riches, to them who barely poflefs them, 
 without ufing them, or without ufmg them 
 aright, have no value whatever they are 
 neither profitable nor honourable to them. 
 Neither their underftanding nor their heart 
 is the better for them ; they are neither 
 more perfedt, nor more happy. What- 
 ever means we may have in our power, fo 
 long as they are not employed to that pur- 
 pofe, are the fame to us as if we had them 
 not. Such a man's wealth, therefore, gives 
 him no real pre-eminence , and if, not- 
 withftanding, he applauds himfelf for it, 
 and boafts of it, he fuiFers himfelf to be 
 deceived by a vain appearance, and boafts 
 that he, according to his circumftances, 
 might and fhould be more enlightened, 
 better, and happier, than he really is. 
 
 It follows farther, that wealth, when 
 once earned or otherwife obtained, pro- 
 cures the greatefl advantages, at leaft to its 
 
 wife
 
 l86 THE VALUE 
 
 wife and worthy pofleffor, and thence to the 
 xvhole fociety wherein he lives ; that, there- 
 fore, its advantage confifts more in the ho- 
 nour of being the acquirer, the collector, 
 the manager, the keeper, and the dif- 
 tributor of them, than in their exclufive 
 enjoyment. For the rich man can only 
 enjoy the leaft part of what he has. He 
 muft always, whether he will or no, allow 
 others to enjoy the greateft ; nay, abating 
 only his unreafonable and hurtful fatisfac- 
 ttons, he can enjoy nothing, but what others 
 in fome way or other muft profit by. He 
 therefore, generally fpeaking, is not de- 
 ferving of envy, nor to be reckoned a 
 noxious member of fociety. Efteem and 
 thanks are much rather due to him, for 
 the benefits he communicates to others ; 
 for the provifion and affiftance they ge- 
 nerally receive from him in penury and 
 want. 
 
 It
 
 F K I C H E S. 187 
 
 It follows, thirdly, that a moderate in- 
 , which is well earned and properly 
 employed, is of much greater value, as 
 well to the man that has it, as to the fo- 
 ciety in which he lives, than the greateft 
 poffeffions, which are not fo acquired, or 
 fo employed. What, in the hands of (loth, 
 ignorance, folly, gluttony, and luxury, 
 fades, corrupts, perverts, empoifons, and 
 kills ; in the hands of wifdom, virtue, in- 
 duftry, and philanthropy, multiplies, im- 
 proves, and ennobles ! how much life, and 
 activity, and joy, does it not produce ! Let 
 not then the man of moderate fortune com- 
 plain that he is uot rich ; let him not de- 
 lay the good employment of what he has 
 till he become fo. Let him do at prefent 
 all that his means allow him to do, and do 
 it with prudence and perfeverance ; and he 
 will thus be as ufeful as if he were actually 
 rich, and probably more fo. 
 
 Lattly,
 
 l88 THE VALUE 
 
 Laftly, it follows, from what has been 
 obferved of the value of riches, that we 
 are not to honour the rich man, becaufe 
 he is rich, but only as he has acquired and 
 employs his riches in a laudable manner. 
 
 None, therefore, fhould reverence the rich 
 man merely becaufe he has inherited riches, 
 till he renders himfelf worthy of his for- 
 tune by a proper employment of it. And 
 if he does not, let him be treated, not only 
 in our private eilimation, but in our out- 
 ward behaviour, and in our public judge- 
 ments as inferior to an honeft day-labourer, 
 or any poor pcrfon who is not poor by his 
 vices ; and thus let him perceive that fo- 
 ciety is jbftly fcandalized, at feeing a mem- 
 ber of it receiving fo much, and diftribut- 
 ing fo little, requiring fo much fervice, and 
 performing hardly any, and puffing him- 
 felf up with pretenfions, while he is in- 
 debted only to chance, or rather to Pro- 
 vidence, for what he has, and which that 
 
 Providence
 
 OF RICHES. 189 
 
 Providence would never have bellowed 
 upon him, if wealth were intrinfically im- 
 portant or honourable, or if it were always 
 the token and the reward of merit. 
 
 None can refpecl: that rich man, who, 
 with all the means and opportunities for 
 cultivating his underftanding and ameli- 
 orating his heart to the capacity of elevated 
 pleafures, remains unimproved, ignorant, 
 vicious, full of low defires, and knows no 
 other merit, no greater joy, than what his 
 pofleffions give him, and the heaping of 
 treafure upon treafure ! 
 
 None can reverence the rich man who 
 is rich only to himfelf, who is deaf to the 
 voice of poverty and woe ; and whofe heart 
 is fhut to companion, and his hand to 
 charity! 
 
 None can efleem the rich man who is 
 proud of his riches, who reckons himfelf 
 
 on
 
 190 THE VALUE 
 
 on that' account better than his poor bre* 
 thren , and who proportions his confidera- 
 tion and regard to others accord ng to the 
 degree of their greater or fmaller income ! 
 
 In fhort, none can reverence riches in 
 the hands of the fool, the nnjuft, the 
 haughty, the epicure, the hard-hearted, 
 and the mifamhropift ! For riches can 
 neither change the nature of folly, nor of 
 injiiftice, nor pride, nor hardnefsof heart, 
 nor inhumanity. And though they may 
 conceal thefe vices and defeats at times, it 
 is only from the view of weak and filly 
 men, who know not how to difcern be- 
 tween femb lance and reality, and fuffer 
 themfelves to be cheated by every im- 
 pofture. 
 
 But every one, Sirs, every one muft 
 efteem the mrui, who, by his underfland- 
 ing. his ind'jftry, his activity, and his pru- 
 dence, by a faithful and confcientious em- 
 
 . ployment
 
 OF RICHES. 
 
 ployment of his gifts and faculties, is be- 
 come rich ! 
 
 All men refpedt the rich man who makes 
 a good and generous ufe of his riches, who 
 employs them in promoting and encourag- 
 ing the induflry of his fellow citizens, 
 opens branches of ufeful commerce, en- 
 courages arts and fciences, fupports good 
 inftitutions, rewards beneficial difcoveries, 
 and publimes them for the general advan- 
 tage, and at the fame time, though in the 
 midft of opulence, lives within the bounds 
 of moderation and reafon, and never lofes 
 light of his higher deflination ! 
 
 In fhort, all men refpedt the rich man 
 who drives to be rich in good works, in 
 works of beneficence and mercy, who is 
 rich more for others than for himfelf, who 
 heartily gives and heartily helps ; who can- 
 not think himfelf rich but when he is 
 giving and helping , who finds his joy 
 
 and
 
 1^2 THE VALUE, &C. 
 
 and blifs in it ; and, in fo doing, like his 
 heavenly Father, God, is never difcouraged 
 or weary ! Yes, every man loves and re- 
 veres him, as the friend and benefadtor of 
 his brethren, as the fubflitute of Jefus, as 
 the image of God! 
 
 ESTI-
 
 ESTIMATE VIL 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 O F 
 
 HONOUR. 
 
 Render therefore to all their dues honour to 
 vhom honour. Rom. xiii, 7. 
 
 VOL. I. O THE
 
 [ "95 ] 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 E 
 
 O F 
 
 HONOUR. 
 
 ^MULATION, Sirs, is natural to all 
 ^ men ; and nothing but the fupreme 
 degree of inienfibility, of levity, or of 
 vice, can render us wholly indifferent to 
 honour and fiiame. Indeed this fentiment 
 is not equally active and ftrong in all. The 
 degree of its ftrength and activity in each 
 perfon is frequently determined by his na- 
 tural difpofltion, his education, his man- 
 ner of life, his company, his connections, 
 and other peculiar circumftances ; but in 
 none is it totally idle or inactive. It muft 
 O2 be
 
 196 THE VALUE 
 
 be conferTed that this fentiment is the 
 caufe of much harm to mankind is the 
 parent of many follies, many vices, and 
 much mifery. But it likewife occafions 
 no lefs, it caufes far more good, and is 
 the fertile fource of much wifdom, many 
 virtues, and much happinefs. All de- 
 pends upon the proper direction of it, upon? 
 the choice of its objefts, and its being 
 guided in its aims by reafon and religion. 
 
 If we would have this to be the cafe 
 with us, we muft acquire a right concep- 
 tion of honour, and the value of it, of the 
 grounds whereon it is defirable ; and on 
 thefe feveral articles the generality of men 
 fall into grofs miflakes. Honour, no lefs 
 than wealth, has an outward glare, a cer- 
 tain glofs, that plays round its real and 
 efTential condition. Dazzled or blinded by 
 this, few men think of exErmnli-g and dif- 
 covering what may lie hid behind it. 
 Hence fuch different, fuch oppofite judge- 
 ments
 
 O F HO N U R. 197 
 
 Clients are pafled on the value . of ho- 
 nour, as well as of wealth. Hence the 
 exceffive efteem and admiration of it by 
 fome, and the abfolute contempt of it by 
 others. Hence the ardent, unabated en- 
 deavours of fome after every thing that is 
 called honour, and the carelefs, and even 
 derifive indifference of others towards it. 
 Hence, in ihort, that manifefl variance, 
 or that feeming contradidion between the 
 maxims of the world, and thofe of religion 
 and philofophy- mere error, prejudice, 
 confufion, and extravagance, ariiing from 
 a deficiency of reflection and confederation. 
 Happy fhall I think myfelf, if by my pre- 
 fent attempt I can contribute any thing 
 towards lefTeng thefe faults and defeats of 
 the human underflanding and heart; if I 
 can lay before you any impartial and fatis- 
 factory obfervations on this matter, for 
 your judgements upon it. 
 
 O 3 My
 
 198 THE VALUE 
 
 My defign is, to give you clear and 
 right notions of the value of honour. Af- 
 ford me then your cuftomary ferioufnefe 
 and attention. 
 
 Whe the apoflle exhorts the chriftians 
 at Rome to five to all their dues, honour 
 to whom honour is due, he plainly mews, 
 that honour is not in oppofition to chrif- 
 tianity j that it has a certain value, is due 
 to certain perfons, and that to teftify it is. 
 a duty incumbent on us. On the fame 
 principle, he admonifhes the chriftians, on 
 other occalions, to prefer one another in 
 honour ; that they mould all endeavour 
 after the honour that proceeds from good 
 aclions. Chriftianity condemns neither 
 honour nor the ftriving to obtain it ; but 
 requires of its confefibrs, in this article, 
 likewife temperance and moderation, to 
 dired: their ambition towards the moil im- 
 portant and moil excellent objects, and to 
 look upon honour not as an end, but only 
 
 as
 
 OF HONOUR. 
 
 as a means. And when our Saviour for- 
 bids his difciples the allowing of them- 
 felves to be called mafter and rabbi, and 
 tells them that the greateft among them 
 ihall be as the leaft, and the chief of them 
 as the fervant of all ; when he thus appears 
 utterly to difcard all honour, every mark 
 of diftin&ion, and every token of reve- 
 rence ; yet the attentive reader of thefe 
 precepts will eafily perceive that his de. 
 ' fign in giving them was no other than to 
 free his difciples from the idle expectation 
 of eminent dignities and confpicuous fla- 
 tions in the kingdom of the Meffiah ; and 
 to fhew them that they were not to be 
 guided by a party-fpirit, and to erecl: 
 themfelves into chiefs among mankind ; 
 but that they were to afcribe all to him, 
 as the .fole chieftain and lord of his con- 
 gregation. The thing itfelf then is inno- 
 cent and good, even according to the doc- 
 trine of chriflianity ; and all we have to do is 
 04 fo
 
 20O THE VALUE 
 
 fo to regard and fo to ufe it as is becoming 
 the true nature and condition of it. 
 
 By honour, we are to underftand all 
 tokens of consideration fhewn us by fociety 
 in preference to others ; all outward pre- 
 cedence it grants or allows us, whether it 
 conftfts in dominion and power, or in rank 
 and titles, or in pofts and dignities, or in 
 an exemption from certain hardfhips and 
 reftraints, or in other privileges of the like 
 kind. Now, for rightly adjufling the 
 worth of thefe things, we muft in the firit 
 place difcrimin^te between hereditary ho- 
 nours, and fuch as are acquired. 
 
 Hereditary honours, pre-eminences de- 
 rived to us from our parents and anceftors, 
 have no folid intrinfic value on our account, 
 and bear the name of honours in regard to. 
 us in but a very improper fignification. 
 This will immediately be perceived by any 
 one that is not blinded by the glare of thefe 
 
 pre
 
 F HO N Q U R. 2O I 
 
 pre-eminences. For, what advantage is it 
 to me, that my forefathers, in antient or 
 in modern times, by mental abilities, by 
 virtues, by praife- worthy deeds, or by bo- 
 dily ftrength, have diftinguifhed them- 
 ielvis from others ; or that it happened to 
 them probably by fome fortunate accident, 
 probably by fome fervice they performed, 
 though flight in itfelf, yet done in favour- 
 able circumftances, and which they per- 
 haps never intended ; probably even by 
 bafe and low intrigues, by the arts of flat- 
 tery, procured the good-will of fome fu- 
 perior, or bought a title and precedence 
 with money ? what have I to do in all that ; 
 I, who then had no exigence ; I, who pro- 
 bably, were I in their fituation, would not, 
 or could not have done as my forefathers 
 did ? have I, therefore, the fmalleil merit 
 in it ? am I become the betcer, or the 
 more honourable, becaufe fome of my an- 
 ceftors railed themfelves above their con* 
 temporaries by being real heroes, or favage 
 
 warriors,
 
 202 THE VALUE 
 
 warriors, or highway robbers, or court fy. 
 cophants ; that they acquired diftindions 
 either by drift goodnefs, or by downright 
 wickednefs, or by fome accidental event ? 
 Probably, it is true, probably I may have 
 had the happinefs of a better education on 
 this* account. But is a good education, 
 then, a merit in me, for which I am to be 
 honoured by others ? is it not a benefac- 
 tion, for which I Hand indebted to others, 
 and which none can reckon meritorious 
 in me, till I have {hewn the good ufes I 
 make of it ? 
 
 Hereditary honours and diftindtions, or 
 precedencies by birth and pre-eminencies 
 by defcent, are then only ib far valuable, 
 as they incite me to render myfelf worthy 
 of them, and to obtain more rewards of 
 fociety by good, generous, and ufeful ac- 
 tions ; fo much the more cautioufly to avoid 
 every thing unworthy and fhameful ; and 
 to raife myfelf as much above others by 
 
 my
 
 OF HONOUR. lO^ 
 
 my fentiments and behaviour as I am in 
 rank and titles. He on whom it has not 
 this influence, he who does the reverfe, if 
 he has otherwife a found underftanding, 
 and is capable of reflection, muft feel him- 
 ielf afliamed as often as he thinks upon 
 his outward diftin&ion ; it mufl be bur- 
 denfome to him, like a load of debt which 
 he has not discharged. He muft, in thofe 
 moments of felf inveftigation and felf-sb- 
 horrence, wilh that he had been born in 
 an humbler ftation ! Reflcd: on this par- 
 ticularly, ye youths who bear the ftyle of 
 honourable! if ye be not honourably 
 minded and honourably mannered, no wife, 
 no intelligent man, will reverence you 
 merely on account of your name ; and 
 every bale, every degrading action you 
 commit, will load you with tenfold mame ! 
 
 Acquired, rightly acquired honour, on 
 the other hand, is a real honour, and has 
 
 a great
 
 204 THE VALUE 
 
 a great value, both in regard to the pof- 
 feflbr, and to the whole fociety. 
 
 In regard to the poffeflbr, its value con- 
 fifts in the manner by which it is obtained, 
 by which it is fupported, and how it is 
 ufed or applied. In all thefe refpe&s it 
 promotes his real fpiritual perfection. 
 
 The duly acquiring of honour therefore 
 principally does thisj the acquiring of 
 honour, not the honour that is acquired 
 by purchafe, by flattery, by prefumption, 
 or impudence ; but is grounded on fu- 
 perior talents, on good and glorious ac- 
 tions, on real benefits done to fociety. He 
 that acquires honour in this manner, mud 
 thereby become better and more perfedt. 
 For, what will it not generally demand tq 
 advance onefelf before the reft of mankind, 
 to get diftinguifhecl from them, to furpafs 
 them, to excell them in a remarkable, 
 linking, and imiverfally approved manner ! 
 
 what
 
 OF HONOUR. 205 
 
 what does it not- require to reach a certain 
 mark which we have propofed, frequently 
 very diftant, and often not clearly difcern- 
 ible ; to be getting conftantly nearer it, 
 and to pnrfue it with conftancy till it be 
 attained ! how many impediments have we 
 not to get over, how many obftacles to 
 avoid, and how many competitors -to fur- 
 pafs, how difficult, how complicated, how 
 prolix is frequently the matter itfelf by 
 \vhich this honour is to be acquired ! I 
 mean the arts and fciences, military fer- 
 vice, civil or mercantile affairs, wherein 
 we ftrive to be diftinguifhed ! and how 
 much harder do all thefe things become 
 by circumftances not dependent on our- 
 felves, by the poverty wherein we may be 
 born, by the little inflrudtion we have pro- 
 bably had in our younger years, by the 
 oppofition all men have to .encounter, by 
 the jealoufies and envy we excite, by the 
 unavoidable miftakes we commit ! what 
 ftruggles, what various exertions of our 
 
 mental
 
 2O6 THE VALtJE 
 
 mental faculties does it not require, to force 
 a paffage through all thefe difficulties, to 
 combat and conquer them all ! But is not 
 this the way that leads to higher perfec- 
 tion, to wifdom, and to virtue ? 
 
 No more, Sirs, can we worthily main- 
 tain our honour ib acquired without thereby 
 promoting our perfection. Would we fe- 
 cure the prize after which we flrive, from 
 being ravrmed from us ? Then we muft 
 never ftand idle much lefs retreat we 
 muft conftantly ftretch forwards, always 
 labour to make farther advances in what is 
 beautiful and praife-worthy. Wife, good, 
 and ufeful adlions, which are not followed 
 by fimilar adtions, merits which are not 
 augmented by new ones, fcon fink into 
 forgetfulnefs, foon become a burden to us, 
 then render us lefs refpeChbic, and at 
 length call us into con:;-rmpt. What does 
 it not require for this refpefted man to pre- 
 ferve the good opinion, the clleeni, and 
 7 the
 
 OF HONOUR. 207 
 
 the confidence of fociety ; if he would not 
 have them repent the precedence they have 
 allowed him, the honour they have Ihewn 
 him ! what circumfpedtion in all his ac- 
 tions, even the leaft of them ! what cir- 
 cumfpeclion and prudence in whatever he 
 does, and whatever he declines ! what fa- 
 crifices of his conveniencies, his pleafures, 
 and his profits ! what practice of the "vir- 
 tues ! what an active and bufy life, what 
 indefatigable endeavours, does it not de- 
 mand after higher perfection. 
 
 In Ihort, we cannot poflefs and enjoy 
 honour in a noble manner, without thereby 
 becoming better, happier, and more ufeful 
 to mankind. What a mighty incitement 
 to the faithful difcharge of our duty, to 
 the moft unfhaken integrity, muft it be to 
 fuch a one who feels its value and the ob- 
 ligations it lays him under ! how much 
 eafier is it in general for men to a<3: up. 
 rightly and juftly, generoufly and nobly, 
 
 in
 
 2O3 THE V A L tf E 
 
 in the light of an univerfal efteem, by the 
 fplendor of renown, than when they h?.ve 
 to aft in obfcurity, without witnefles, with- 
 out fpectators, and without judges ! 
 
 Again, honour procures us admiffion to 
 the wifeft and the bed of men ; it furmfhes 
 us with the opportunity for procuring us 
 their efteem, their confidence, and their 
 friendlhip. And how much may we then 
 learn of them, how much (Irengthen our 
 
 * O 
 
 fpirit, how warm pur heart, and how much 
 happinefs enjoy in their converfation ! 
 
 By honour and efteem we far more rea- 
 dily find help and encouragement in our 
 greateft and hardeft undertakings, and 
 more furely complete our defigns, than 
 when we are unhonoured and unknown. 
 Mankind have already a good opinion of 
 us, have great confidence in our un'der- 
 fhnding and our heart, believe our inten- 
 tions to be honeft beforehand^ and Ihew, 
 
 them-
 
 OF HONOUR. 209 
 
 themfelves ready to withftand the oppofi- 
 tions we meet with, and to remove the im- 
 pediments that lie in our way. We may, 
 therefore, undertake greater matters, ope- 
 rate farther and wider, have more influ- 
 ence on others, and thereby perform and 
 promote more good. Our opinions meet 
 with greater approbation ; our advice 
 is more readily taken ; will be more wil- 
 lingly fupported ; and will unite far more 
 heads and hands in their execution. Oh 
 what is there that a man, who ftands in 
 great and merited efteem, cannot under- 
 take for the good of his brethren ! What 
 may not a man poffefled of eminent pre- 
 cedence, of high rank, inverted with an 
 exalted charge, and is wife and virtuous 
 withal, what may he not perform- for their 
 advantage ! what a benefactor to the pre- 
 fent and to many future generations may 
 he be ! and what a pure and godlike plea- 
 fure mud he procure himfelf in fuch a 
 ufe of his honour ! how vaftly mufl he 
 VOL. I. P thereby
 
 410 THE VALUE 
 
 thereby difplay his fitnefs for (till higher 
 dignity, for flill greater activity in a better 
 world ! 
 
 But, if honour and pre-eminence, rightly 
 acquired, worthily maintained, and duly 
 employed, have a certain value in regard 
 of their pofleflbr ; they afiuredly have as 
 great, and even flill greater, in refpect of 
 the whole fociety. They promote its ad- 
 vantage in various ways. 
 
 It is a good thing in general, when there 
 are certain perfons in it who may ferve as 
 an example to others, in a fociety, and 
 indeed among all clafles and orders of men ; 
 and this they are able the better to do, 
 when they {land higher than others, when 
 they may be diftinguifhed from others by 
 their outward characters, when they are 
 known and refpected by every man through- 
 out their fphere of action, when every 
 one's eyes are directed towards them, when 
 
 what-
 
 whatever they fay and do quickly comes 
 to every man's knowledge. The judge- 
 ment, the approbation, the teflimony, the 
 example of one who ftands high in the ef- 
 teem and the deferved refpeeT: of the fo- 
 ciety, has indifputably far more weight, 
 far more influence and efficacy, than the 
 judgement, the approbation, the teflimony, 
 and the example of another, however wife 
 and virtuous, who lives in obfcurity, and 
 is loft in the multitude. Indeed, if all 
 men had good principles, and afted upon 
 them, if they all were animated by the 
 fpirit of religion, they would not be in need 
 of this comparatively feeble fupport. But 
 iince, in the prefent Situation of things, 
 this is not to be expected, it is of infinite 
 iervice to the world, that the light which 
 enlightens refpectable perfons, the radiance 
 they fpread around, the efteem that is paid 
 them by all, Ihould, in fome degree, fup- 
 ply the place of thofe principles, thofe 
 Dobkr motives. 
 
 P 2 Honour
 
 212 THE VALUE 
 
 Honour rightly acquired, and worthily 
 maintained, is, farther, a powerful incen- 
 tive to others to ftrive after honour by the 
 fame laudable means. All men cannot, 
 perhaps only a few can, difpenfe with thefe 
 incitements to eminently good and great 
 enterprifes, at leaft, in the beginning. 
 Firft, muft the prize, the crown, that 
 fparkles at the end of their courfe, awaken 
 them from their floth, call them to com- 
 mence the glorious career, and help them 
 to furmount the firft obftacles in it. By 
 degrees their fatisf actions grow purer, and 
 give place to nobler views and more ge- 
 nerous motives. They find, that truth, 
 virtue, integrity, public utility, are in 
 themlelvcs worthy and excellent things ; 
 they employ themfelves wholly in them, 
 purfue their progrefs, flrait forward, un- 
 difmayed, without feeing farther on it, or 
 perceiving a more exalted and grander 
 mark beyond it ; do all that is excellent 
 and of good report, without thinking on 
 
 the
 
 OF HONOUR. 213 
 
 the praife and glory that is to follow ; do, 
 from a hearty love towards God and man, 
 what they at firft performed out of cu- 
 pidity and ambition : and all this they pro- 
 bably would not have done, their capa- 
 cities and abilities would not have been 
 excited, at leaft to this degree ; if they 
 had not been kindled by the view of more 
 honourable, more refpectable perfons, or 
 by the report of their deeds, and by the 
 defire to do like them or to go beyond 
 them ; if the firft fpark'of this active life, 
 this greater utility, thefe nobler fentiments, 
 thefe endeavours after extenficm and ac- 
 tivity which lay fmouldering in their breails, 
 had not been thus blown up into a flame. 
 And, if this were not the cafe, how many 
 noble powers would probably never have 
 been fet in motion, how many feeds of 
 good actions would never have come to 
 maturity, how many ufeful labours would 
 never have been undertaken! 
 
 P 3 Honour.
 
 214 -/REVALUE 
 
 Honour, rightly acquired, and worthily 
 maintained, receives a great value in regard 
 of the whole community, as by means of 
 it many very important matters are brought 
 to effect thereby, which otherwife would 
 not be, or far feldomer, and not without 
 the greateft labour and perfeverance. 
 Without the influence of honour, how 
 could the contradictory opinions, and the 
 oppofite means and aims of the great mul- 
 titude of mankind, be brought into unifon, 
 and made to tend to one and the feme object ? 
 how will any patriotic and arduous under- 
 taking be maturely brought forth, wifely 
 flated, and firmly executed ? whofe coun- 
 fel would be hearkened to in times of fear- 
 city or diltrefs ? who could acquire the 
 confidence needful in times of danger ? who 
 could, in fuch circumftances, infpire the 
 ignorant, the feeble, the timid, and the 
 narrow-minded, the greateft part of fociety, 
 with courage and obedience, when a man 
 cannot divulge the reafons for what he 
 
 does
 
 O HONOUR. 215 
 
 does and what he expects, or, if he can, 
 cannot make them underftood ? In Ihort, 
 how can the prince, the magiftrate, the 
 judge, the teacher, the father of a family, 
 the chieftain, the infpector, difcharge the 
 duties of his office or his calling with good 
 effect, unlefs the honour he enjoys, the 
 efteem wherein he ftands, gives a peculiar 
 weight to all he fays and does, to whatever 
 he commands, and advifes, and defires ? 
 
 It is therefore plainly apparent, that the 
 hcinour which is duly obtained and pro- 
 perly employed, has a true and lafting va- 
 lue, both in regard of its poffeflbr, and of 
 fociety at large, inafmuch as it furthers 
 and promotes the perfection and happinefs 
 of both. Let me now conclude, with 
 pointing out to you a few ftiort rules of 
 conduct in refpect to your opinion of ho- 
 nour, and your endeavours after it. 
 
 P 4 Firft,
 
 l6 THE VAMTE 
 
 Firft, learn to diftinguifti between true 
 and falfe, perfonal and borrowed honour ; 
 prize each according to its worth, but 
 never confound them. All titles, rank, 
 and pre-eminence, which is obtained by 
 birth, derived from our anceftors, and 
 comes to us by defcent, is borrowed and 
 accidental honour ; this befpeaks no merit, 
 but is an obligation and incitement to ac- 
 quire merit, and thereby to obtain a pro- 
 perty in that precedence. 
 
 All honour acquired by undue and de- 
 bafing means, which is founded on artifice, 
 on treachery, on oppreffion, or extortion, 
 or on mere impudence, or bafe and un- 
 righteous ah of any kind ; all honoor that 
 is abufed to the purpofes of pride and ar- 
 rogance, to the overthrowing or diminifh- 
 ing of human and civil liberty, to the en- 
 forcing of unlawful purpofes ; all honour 
 that is fought for by fmifter or oblique 
 3 way?,-
 
 OF HONOUR. 
 
 ways, by pomp and luxury ; is falfe ho- 
 nour it is real difgrace. 
 
 Let no man, therefore, debafe himfelf 
 by teftifying his reverence towards him. 
 who only fhines by borrowed honour, 
 which is only due to the man of real merit, 
 who has procured it to himfelf, or has ren- 
 dered himfelf worthy of it! Let no man 
 affront himfelf fo far as to fofter the pride 
 of the wretched creature who is proud of 
 furreptitious honour, or afford the leail re- 
 fpect to vice, though invefted with t" B 
 richefl robe of dignity ! but let every man 
 be zealous to teflify honour to whom ho 
 nour is due ; let every man confefs and re- 
 fpect, and revere whatever he perceives of 
 good, and ufeful, and honourable in his 
 brethren, let their ftation be what it may ! 
 this is the duty of the man, the duty of 
 the citizen, the duty of the chriftian ! 
 
 Let
 
 Let not your emulation degenerate into 
 ambition. The former is allowable, is na- 
 tural, and the germ of virtue, the other is 
 a criminal and fhameful vice, a corrupt 
 paffion, and the death of all real virtue. 
 So foon as a man makes honour the ulti- 
 mate, the higheft aim of his purfuits j fo 
 foon as he refolves at any rate to diftinguifh 
 himfelf from others, to force himfelf above 
 them, to gain reverence, authority, and 
 power, approbation and applaufe, let it 
 cod what it will ; he immediately runs the 
 rifk of lofing the path to real honour, and 
 to entangle himfelf in the labyrinth of cun* 
 ningand falfhood will be capable of every 
 vice, of every wicked deed, even the loweft 
 and moft difgraceful actions, if by their 
 means he can but further hisdefigns. Be- 
 ware of this tyrannical paffion ! it is a pef- 
 tilence in human fociety, and always, whe- 
 ther fooner or later, rewards its votaries 
 with fhame and mifery ! 
 
 Give
 
 O F H N O U R. 219 
 
 Give your emulation the beft, the no- 
 bleft direction. Regard the privileges of 
 mind and heart, as fuperior to all the pri- 
 vileges of rank and ftation, wifdom and 
 virtue, to all titles and dignities, the filent 
 a&s of philanthropy and beneficence to all 
 noify but lefs ufeful deeds ! 
 
 Strive not fo much after the efteem of 
 the multitude, as after that of the wifeft 
 and beft among mankind. Let the appro- 
 bation of one wife, one virtuous, one real 
 chriftian, be of more value to you than 
 the applaufe of thoufands, whofe judge- 
 ment depends on accident and humour ! 
 
 Go ftill farther ; purify and exalt your 
 emulation yet more. Seek not honour 
 from men, but aim at the honour which 
 only God can give. The approbation of 
 the Omnifcient and Omniprefent, who feeth 
 in fecret 'feeth what is good as well as 
 what is bad, and what is bad as well as 
 
 what
 
 220 THE VA'ttTJfe 
 
 what is gr.od, the will as well as the deed, 
 the motive as well as the effedt- to pro- 
 cure his approbation, to become ever more 
 capable and more deferving of it, let this, 
 let this be the ultimate aim of your emu- 
 lation ! 
 
 Strive not fo much after honour, as after 
 that which conduces to honour, that which 
 is truly honourable ! not after praife, but 
 what is praife-worthy ! not after approba- 
 tion and applaufe ! From him who feeks 
 honour with anxiety, from him it com- 
 monly flies. He who does that which is 
 attended by honour, and does it in honeit 
 fimplicity of heart, becaufe it is right and 
 good, he will, for the moft part, find ho- 
 nour and approbation, even though he did 
 not feek it. Refllefs, anxious luft of ho- 
 nour, a nice and delicate adaptation of 
 every word, every ftep, every adtion to the 
 fevereft rules of honour, cannot by any 
 means confift with the character of a truly 
 
 great
 
 O E HONOUR, 221 
 
 great and noble foul, with a truly chriftiaa- 
 minded chriftiaru The noble foul, the 
 great man, the real chrlftian, are fo em- 
 ployed in effectual fervice, in better and 
 more perfed: practice of what is fair, and 
 great, and chriftian are ever feeing before 
 them ftill greater and weightier things to 
 do, are fo pre- occupied with truth, and 
 virtue, and the public benefit, fo pene- 
 trated with the love of God, and of their 
 brethren, that they forget themfelves, and 
 find fufficient impulfe and reward in righ- 
 teoufnefs and beneficence, and prize not 
 the honour they receive from men as their 
 end and aim, but at moft as inftruments 
 and means. This, Sirs, is true greatnefs, 
 true nobility of fpirit, the ground and fit- 
 nefs for ever-during honour ! 
 
 Purfue the path of duty and honour, en- 
 deavour to make the beft, the moft bene- 
 ficial ufe of your gifts and faculties, and 
 though you Ihould ftill have no outward 
 
 <Uf-
 
 222 THE VALUE 
 
 diflin&ions, and your merits Ihould be un* 
 acknowledged by fociety : oh, let not this 
 lead you into miftake, confidently purfuc 
 the path you have begun ; the end of it 
 will bring you to greater perfection and 
 blifs. Complain not of injuftice and in- 
 gratitude, if unfavourable and adverfe cir- 
 cumftances ravifh from you the honour you 
 have deferved. It cannot conflantly be 
 conferred on merit. Its judges, its dif- 
 tributers, are men, fallible, miftaking, 
 paffionate men ! Numbers are likewife fre- 
 quently aiming at the fame mark with you, 
 come to the full as near, and yet only one 
 can gain the prize. But let this ferve you 
 as a caution, not to make honour your ul- 
 timate fcope, or you may eafily mifs of it 
 without your fault. Only the approbation 
 of our confcience, the approbation of God, 
 is what no man can deprive us of without 
 our fault. After thefe let us ftrive, and 
 we lhall never labour in vain, nor fail in 
 our attempt. 
 
 Laftly,
 
 OF HONOUR. 223 
 
 Laftly, herein condudt yourfelves, as 
 chriftians, by the example of Chrift ; let 
 him be your model. He fought not ho- 
 nour from men ; reckon that which glitters 
 and glares in your eyes as of little import : 
 he never boafted of his pre-eminence ; he 
 fuffered neither praife nor blame to turn 
 him afide from the path of rectitude and 
 truth ; but all that was honourable and 
 good, that did he, and that without re- 
 miffion. All his difcourfes, all his adtions, 
 w'ere conformable to his dignity j all tended 
 to the promotion of human felicity. He 
 neither faid nor did any thing that could 
 weaken his influence or enervate his doc- 
 trine, or fruftrate his benevolent labours. 
 The good pleafure of his heavenly Fa- 
 ther, he prized above all things, and ftrove 
 with unabated ardour after the honour of 
 being the faviour, the deliverer of many, of 
 all men. And in this way he attained to 
 the higheft glory, was exalted high above 
 all, and received a dignity above all dig- 
 nities j
 
 224 THE VAL U E, &C. 
 
 cities; to whom all mankind now bow and 
 obey, and acknowledge him for thtir Lord. 
 Him, Sirs, him let us follow, become con- 
 Itantly more like him in fentiments and ac- 
 tions. The way which he has trod before 
 us is the way that leads to the highcft ho- 
 nour ! 
 
 EST1
 
 ESTIMATE VIIL 
 
 THE 
 
 O F 
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 
 
 Every creature of God is good, and nothing to be 
 refufed, if it be received with thanksgiving. 
 
 i Tim. iv. 4* 
 
 VOL. I. Q THE
 
 C "7 ] 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PLEASURES OF SENSE. 
 
 IN the two preceding difcourfes I have 
 fpoken of the value of riches, and of 
 the value of honour. To-day I fliall ad- 
 drefs you on the value of pleafure ; and 
 particularly of what is called fenfual plea- 
 fure. Falfely and partially as men are apt 
 to judge of the value of riches and honour, 
 fo falfely and partially do they deem of the 
 value of fenfual. pleafures. But too fre- 
 quently have they been abfolutely con- 
 demned as unworthy of rational and im- 
 mortal beings, of chriftians called to the 
 2 vocation
 
 228 THE VALUE OP 
 
 vocation'of virtue ; and for this condemna- 
 tion of them, uniform appeals have been 
 made to religion and chriftianity. And how 
 lamentably have both religion and chrif- 
 tianity been by this means difcredited in 
 the minds of many ! what numbers have 
 been terrified from the love and practice 
 of them ! how often have thefe bell friends 
 and comforters of man been fhewn us un- 
 der a gloomy and joylefs afpedl ! how 
 much have religion and chriftianity been 
 mifreprefented and injured thereby ! what 
 abufe of their moft facred names ! how far 
 are they from interdi&ing us any innocent 
 pleafures, any harmlefs joys of whatever 
 kind, and from rendering the draught of 
 life more bitter and unpleafant than it is 
 by the inftitution and order which God 
 hath eftablilhed in nature ! how far, I fay y 
 are they from this ; they, who have nothing 
 in view but to lighten the load of life, and 
 to infpire us with a firm and chearful cou- 
 rage, and to make us know and feel the 
 
 good-
 
 SEN'SUAL PLEASURE. 229 
 
 geodnefs of our heavenly Father, in all 
 that furrounds and befalls us ; and to ren- 
 der us, not only in the future, but likewife 
 in the prefent world, as happy as it is pof- 
 fible for us to be ! 
 
 No ; as religion and chriftianity neither 
 forbids us from ftriving to acquire riches 
 by lawful means, or Yrom endeavouring 
 after true honour by the way of wifdom 
 and virtue ; fo neither do they forbid us to 
 yield our bodily organs ' to the agreeable 
 impreflions made upon them by external 
 objects, and therefore to enjoy fenfual plea- 
 fures. Indeed they warn us not to hurt 
 ourfelves and others by their improper ufe, 
 not to be immoderate *in their enjoyment, 
 and not to indulge an excefllve love to- 
 wards them. But even herein they provide 
 for our pleafures, for the higher enjoyment 
 of them, for their longer duration, for 
 their accommodation with the pleafures of 
 the mind and heart, of which we are as 
 
 0.3 fof-
 
 230 THE VALUE OF 
 
 fufceptible as of thofe, and which are ftill 
 more defirable. We muft only, according 
 to their prefcriptions, fo ufe the world, and 
 the good things thereof, as not abufing 
 them. We muft only take heed that we 
 do not leave God without our witnefs that 
 he fends us fo much good from heaven, 
 and fills our hearts with food and gladnefs, 
 not fuffer them to Bear us from him, but 
 to lead and bring us nearer to him. We 
 may enjoy, without referve, all that God 
 has made, and whatever he has allowed 
 us by his conftitution of the world, for our 
 enjoyment, but all with prayer and thankf- 
 giving for a fenfibility to the kindnefs of our 
 iupreme benefadtor, and thus to fandtify 
 them to us. Accordingly the apoftle ex- 
 plains hirnfelf on this matter in his letter 
 to Timothy. Every creature of God, fays 
 he, every thing that God has created, every 
 pleafure of which he has made us capable, 
 is good, and nothing to be refufed, if it 
 be received with thankfgivlng ; we may 
 
 enjoy
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 231 
 
 enjoy them all without fin, if the enjoy- 
 ment does not make us forget our God, and 
 withdraw our hearts from him. For mak- 
 ing this appear undeniable, we will now 
 endeavour to inveftigate the matter more 
 clofely, and fo get a complete conception 
 of it. And in this defign we mall 
 
 Firft make a few obfervations on plea- 
 fure in general, and the various kinds of it 5 
 
 Then, Hate the value of fenfual plea- 
 fures in particular ; and 
 
 Lafily, give fome rules for our conduct 
 in relation to it. Every pleafure, even 
 fenfuai pleafure, has in and of itfelf, fome- 
 thing good. In this refpec! it is eflentially 
 different from riches and honour. They 
 receive their whole value from the ufe a 
 man makes of them, from the effects they 
 produce, from the good their poffefibr per- 
 forms by their means. But pleafure is of
 
 Tfifi VALUE 6? 
 
 itfelf, without regard to efFedb and con- 
 fequences, agreeable and good ; an agree- 
 able fenfation, an agreeable difplay of em- 
 powers, an agreeable fentiment of our ex- 
 iftence, and of our prefent fuuation. 
 
 It mufl however be confeffed, that every 
 pleafure is not defirable in like manner ; 
 but fo neither is every real good abfolutely 
 fo, and in the fame degree. The poffef- 
 fion of one good often militates with the 
 pofleffion of another; the enjoyment of 
 one pleafure may often not confift with the 
 enjoyment of another. One pleafure is al- 
 ways purer, nobler, greater than another; 
 one pleafure even remains a pleafure in its 
 coniequences ; another foon ceafes to be a 
 pleafure, and changes into pain or dif- 
 guft. There are pleafures which are bought 
 inuch too dear, and the trouble a man muft 
 beftow upon them is not repaid him, be- 
 caufe they almoil immediately ceafe to be 
 pleafures ; there are others which are worth 
 
 every
 
 SENStTAL- PLEASURE. 
 
 every toil, every preparation, every endea- 
 vour, and always perform more than they 
 promife. We muft therefore chufe from 
 among our pleafures ; they cannot all be 
 alike enjoyed, they may not all be enjoyed 
 at any time ^ many muft be denied and 
 difmified, that we may be capable and 
 partakers of others. Every pleafure is 
 good, is delirable ; but each in its proper 
 time, in its due degree, according to its 
 kind. Even the meaneft, the loweft fort 
 of them have the preference, at certain 
 times and in certain places, to the nobleft 
 and the moft exalted. Thus we may, nay 
 we muft not unfrequcntly prefer the fatis- 
 fadtion of a degrading animal appetite, or 
 the reft and inactivity necefiary to the fup-' 
 port of our frail body, to the pureft and 
 fublimeft joys of devotion. In general, 
 they are all either ennobled or debafed, 
 either weakened or invigorated, according 
 to the difpofition whereia the man enjoys 
 
 them,
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 them, the views he has therein, and the 
 ufe to which he turns them. 
 
 Farther, every pleafure, even what are 
 called fenfual pleafures, is properly a fpi- 
 ritual pleafure : that is, our fpirit has the 
 fentiment, the confcioufnefs of the agree- 
 able alteration externally produced in the 
 body, or in the vifible world, as well as 
 the agreeable rcprefentations, which, inde- 
 pendent on all externals, we excite and 
 profecute in ourfelves. Pleafure and dif- 
 pleafure, delight and difguft, are no more 
 than different fituations of our mind, dif- 
 ferent ways wherein we feel our exiftence 
 and our difpofition in regard to the fore- 
 mentioned things, whether the ground and 
 the occafions of them be within or with- 
 out us. 
 
 We diftinguilh them only in regard to 
 the means whereby thefc revolutions and 
 reprefentations exift in us ; or in regard to 
 
 the
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 235 
 
 the fources from whence we draw thefe 
 agreeable fenfations. 
 
 Whether it be our organs of fenfe which 
 procure them to us; whether beautiful 
 images received by the eyes, melodious 
 founds by the ear, delightful fmells by the 
 noftrils, delicious impreffions by means of 
 the palate and tongue, agreeable thrilling 
 emotions and fenfations, which by fenfi- 
 bility reach the foul ; they are all called 
 fenfual pleafures, though it is always our 
 fpirit that has and enjoys them. They may 
 even fometimes in a purer, higher, nay, in 
 the peculiar fignification of the word be- 
 come fpiritual ; when, by the confidera- 
 tion and fentiment of the true, the beau- 
 tiful, and the good in nature, we are 
 thence led to the flill more elevated con- 
 iideration and adoration 'of the great arti- 
 ficer and his goodnefs. Or, more efpe- 
 cially, when we reflect thereupon, com- 
 pare them together, and combine them 
 
 with
 
 THE VALUE 6>F 
 
 with former fentiments and rep refentat ions, 
 draw conclufions from them, and proceed 
 from particulars and individuals to ge- 
 nerals and univerfals, and at length, as far 
 as our imagination allows, get a concep- 
 tion of the whole, and thus ufe and exer- 
 cife all our mental faculty, and this withr 
 out laborious exertions, and with bene- 
 ficial effe&s. 
 
 And alfo herein confifts fpiritual plea- 
 fure in the ftricteft fenfe of the term, and 
 in oppofition to fuch as are properly called 
 fenfual. We name them fpiritual, inaf- 
 much as they do not confift in prefent im- 
 preffions made on our fenfual organs, but 
 chiefly, or entirely in the fole operation of 
 our fpirit, and are a fruit of its reflections, 
 its confiderations and refearches relate 
 more to invifible than to vifible things, and 
 are grounded on the knowledge and con- 
 templation of truth, on the fenfarions of 
 moral beauty and harmony, on the fenti- 
 
 ment
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 237 
 
 ment of our perfonal, inward, and ever- 
 increafing perfection, on adoration of God, 
 on joy in him, and a chearful profpeft of 
 futurity. 
 
 Thefe, the more fpiritual, or the abfo- 
 lutely fpiritual pleafures, have undoubtedly, 
 of all others, the greatefl value. They 
 are of their own nature inexhauftible. No 
 man can ever enjoy all the pleafures of this 
 kind of which he is capable; and neither 
 can he fo fully enjoy as that he may 
 not more fully enjoy them. Here one 
 pleafure is continually fpringing out of 
 another ; and even that which we have the 
 rnoft frequently enjoyed never lofes of ita 
 value thereby, will never be taftelefs, is 
 continually acquiring new charms and ever- 
 frelh delights, conftantly Ihews itfelf in 
 new directions, and in new combinations 
 of pleafure., The materials of thefe plea- 
 fures are as immenfc as the kingdom of 
 truth, as unbounded as the world, and as 
 infinite as divine perfection. Thefe plea- 
 3 fures
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 fures are likewife far more durable than 
 all others. They do not vanifh with the 
 light of the day; they do not difappear 
 with the outward afpect of things, do not 
 turn to corruption with our bodies in the 
 grave. They remain with us as long as 
 \ve remain. They abide by us under all 
 the changes and revolutions of our prefent 
 and future condition. They compenfate 
 the deficiencies of the whole vifible world ; 
 they accompany us in the darknefs of the 
 night, in the abfence of all fociety, in the 
 lonelinefs of the grave.- On this very ac- 
 count are they likewife pleafures which 
 bring us nearer to the end for which we 
 were made. They tranfplant us from the 
 clafs of merely animal, to that of fpiritual 
 beings. They conned: themfelves imme- 
 diately with the pleafures we expect in a 
 better life, render us fitter for the enjoy- 
 ment of them, and become the foundation 
 of them, as they are but a continuance of 
 thefe. 
 
 But,
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 239 
 
 But, certain as all this is, Sirs, fo cer- 
 tain it is likewife, that fenfual pleafures 
 have neverthelefs their value, that we are 
 not by any means to defpife and refufe 
 them, that we are much rather to prize, 
 to feek, and to enjoy them. And wherein 
 then peculiarly confifts the value of fenfual 
 pleafures ? 
 
 That it confifts in an agreeable fenfation, 
 in a pleafant mode of exiftence, and there- 
 by, like every other pleafure, has an in- 
 trinfic value, infeparable from the enjoy- 
 ment of it, is, what we have already re- 
 marked, and is not capable of any farther 
 definition, as a matter entirely belonging 
 to the province of fentiment and experi- 
 ence. But when it is innocent and tem- 
 perate, it receives a ftill greater value by 
 the good confequences it produces, by its 
 e Sects on our whole outward ilate. 
 
 Th
 
 40 THE VALUE OF 
 
 The moderate and chearful enjoyment 
 of fenfual pleafures fupports our life, and 
 promotes our health. By giving a fironger 
 ftimulus to the folids, and a quicker cir- 
 culation to the fluid part of our body ; by 
 the diverfity of movements occafioned 
 thereby ; by the ceflktion of all laborious 
 and fatiguing exertions, either of the par- 
 ticular nerves devoted to fixed and earneft 
 reflection, or of the veflels and mufcles 
 adapted to hard mechanical labour ; by the 
 relaxation of nerves too ftrongly moved* 
 and the moderate employment of the fibres 
 that have lain too long inactive, by giving 
 us a brighter view of objects, by the in- 
 citement and enjoyment of agreeable fen- 
 fations : by all thefe means the flighter 
 diforders of the body are removed, their 
 farther progrefs flopped, the order, har- 
 mony, and equipoife of its various parts 
 and their capacities are reflored, and new 
 life and new powers infpired into the whole 
 machine. And this is frequently better 
 
 effeded
 
 IS ENS UAL PLEASURE. 24! 
 
 by walk-ing abroad, recreating 
 jonrnies, company, converfation, diver- 
 lions, dancing, feftivities, and the like, 
 than by merely mental pleafurcs; under 
 which our bodies would link, at leaft in 
 their prefent flare^ if they were not relieved 
 by fuch reitoratives, as loon as under the 
 oppreffion of too full a meal. 
 
 But if our bodies {land in need of" fuch 
 refrefhments and recreations, our fpirit no 
 lefs requires and finds them in the innocent 
 and moderate enjoyment of fenfual plea- 
 fures. Its attention is thereby directed to 
 other matters lefs ferious and auftere. Its 
 faculties are at the fame time ilackened in 
 their tenfion, expand themfeives with 
 greater freedom ; are no longer confined to 
 the profecution of .one particular defign ; 
 employ themfelves on new ones, more 
 lightly ranges ever a variety of objects and 
 fentiments, or roves more eafily from one 
 to another, without remaining on any fo 
 
 VOL-. I. R long
 
 24 2 . THETVALUE OF 
 
 long as to feel fatigue. And thus out 
 fpirit acquires new life, new ftrength, new 
 capacities to its powers', when our duty and 
 vocation, and our thirft after higher per- 
 fection, demand them, frefh vigour for new 
 exertions, purfued with delight, and at- 
 tended by good effects. 
 
 Innocent fenfual pleafures contribute 
 like wife to the more ciofely connecting 
 mankind with each other, and the im- 
 provement of focial life. Social pleafure 
 draws all within the fphere of its operation 
 to it ; brings every part of it nearer to- 
 gether. All mutually give and receive, 
 interchangeably beftow and enjoy; every 
 man contributes more or lefs to the plea- 
 fures of the reft; and this muft render 
 them all fenfible of their reciprocal de- 
 pendency, and their mutual wants, and 
 thereby make them more valuable and more 
 dear to each other, 
 
 Innocent
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE* 
 
 Innocent fenfual pleafure, and the fo- 
 fcial enjoyment of it; alfo mitigates all af-" 
 perity in the judgements and manners of 
 men ; makes men perceive more goodnefs^ 
 more pleafant and amiable qualities in each 
 other ; gives even virtue a brighter afpect, 
 to prudence a more chearful mien, thus 
 gains more profelytes to both, and pro-* 
 cures them both a larger and more unim- 
 peded operation* 
 
 Innocent fenfu'al pleafure expands the 
 heart with benevolence towards all men^ 
 caufes us to take greater intereft in every- 
 thing about us, makes us fenfible to the 
 wants of others, and may frequently excite 
 us to many beneficent and general actions* 
 No man that is worthy the name of 
 that has fentiments of humanity about 
 but is more ready to help his brethren, and 
 to do them good, when he feels his own 
 good fortune and happinefs, and is pleafed 
 and chearful in the enjoyment of it. 
 
 R * Innoce?
 
 Innocent fenfual pleafure is properly 
 tained by honeft perfevering induftry ir. 
 our calling, and is, at the fame time, the 
 due reward of it : a reward of which per- 
 fons even in the lowefh ftations of life are 
 capable, and probably are moft in want 
 of; a reward that fupports them by its ex- 
 pedtation in their moil laborious toils, and 
 renders the moft difagreeable and the mod 
 painful employments eafy and light. 
 
 And how adapted is the enjoyment or 
 innocent fenfual pleafure to raife the heart 
 of the rational, the true chriilian, to God, 
 the author and giver of pleafure ! It re- 
 plenifhes him entirely with the fentiment 
 of his bounty. It infpires him with in- 
 ward love and gratitude towards his bene- 
 ficent creator and father. It awakens in 
 him a pure, exalted, ehearftil piety. Ir. 
 allows him to hope for more and larger 
 difplays of bounty from the Moft High ;. 
 and opens to him the brighteft profpe&s 
 
 of
 
 UAL PLEASURE. 45 
 
 cf higher, nobler 'kinds of pleafure, in a 
 more per fed: flate. 
 
 All thefe confequences and effects, which 
 attend on innocent and temperate fcnfual 
 pleafure, muft certainly give it a mani- 
 fold real value. And we muft either be 
 ignorant of the neceffities of man, if we 
 forbid it him altogether, or if we account 
 it to him for a iin, that as a fenfual being 
 he Ihould enjoy fenfual pLeafure. No ; 
 every creature of God is good, 'and nothing 
 to be r-efufed, if it be received with thankf- 
 giving. 
 
 Permit me now, Sirs, to give you a few 
 rules which may be of fervice to you in 
 the ufe and enjoyment of fenfual pleafure, 
 and fecure you from miftakes. 
 
 Think not, that becaufe I pronounce all 
 
 pleafures to be really pleafures, and do 
 
 riot, as ufual, condemn them altogether, 
 
 R 3 that
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 thai; you are therefore to purfue every 
 fure without fcruple, and enjoy them at aU 
 .times, and in every agreeable manner. All 
 pleafures are really and actually fo ; they 
 produce in us all kinds of agreeable fenfa- 
 tions. But all pleafures are not allowed; 
 all are not harmlefs ; all are not noble ; all 
 may not be enjoyed at all times, in all cir- 
 cumftances, and in the fame proportion. 
 The generality of fenfual pleafures are de- 
 ceitful ; that is, they promife more than 
 they perform ; they but feldom come up 
 to our expectations , they excite agreeable 
 fenfations within us, but not fo highly^agree- 
 able, fuch ravifhing fenfations, as we per- 
 haps cpnc.lu.deci they would ^ they com. 
 monly are far lefs durable, than vve defire. 
 Every, even the mod innocent pleafure, 
 may be cdnverted intq actual pain, by tcp 
 frequent, tco long, and too continued en- 
 joyment ; when vye make them to continue 
 by violence, and endeavour to prolong 
 ijieir duration by force, when it is not the
 
 247 
 
 ftmple exigency of nature, but an artificial 
 requifite of our refined imagination. Se- 
 veral kinds of pleafure are abfolutely inter- 
 difled ; as all thofe that are deftru&ive to 
 eur bodies or our minds ; all that are in- 
 jurious to our neighbour, in his health, his 
 honour, his property, his reafonable plea- 
 fures, or in his circumflances ; all that 
 render us unfit or indifpofed for the focial 
 duties we are bound to perform. Others 
 are allowable, but only as they are en- 
 joyed at proper feafons, and are not dif- 
 qualifying or detrimental to the relifli of 
 more pure and exalted pleasures. 
 
 Be, therefore this is my fecond rule 
 be prudent, careful, and confcientious in 
 the choice of your pleafures. Do not 
 imagine the firft that folicits you to be 
 the beft. This is to do like children, who 
 are yet defective in that which generally 
 diftinguifhes men from the inferior ani- 
 mals, J mean judgement, and follow in. 
 R 4 ftinft
 
 THE. VALUB OF 
 
 more than consideration and reflec- 
 tion. . Men are to diftinguifh themielves 
 from children by the fek'ction of their 
 pleafures. Suffer no plcafure to impofc 
 upon you, to perfuade or beguile you, to 
 which of yourfelf you are not inclined ; or. 
 which, according to time, and your pre- 
 fent diipofition, you had rather change for 
 another perhaps fame nobler plealure. 
 Examine the pleafare that intices you, by 
 the rules of vvifdom, of prudence, of re- 
 ligion, and of chriflianity ; by your pre- 
 fent wants and circumftances. Afk your- 
 felf i By this pleafure lhall I do no in- 
 jultice to any one, hurt none, neglect no 
 peceffary, indifpenfable duty towards my 
 parents, my children, my family, my fel- 
 low-citizens, or my fellow-creatures ? Will 
 not my worldly affairs be hurt by it ? will 
 it be prejudicial or ferviceable to my health? 
 will it wound my peace, or promote it ? 
 will it administer temptation and charms 
 to fin and vice, or afford encouragement 
 
 and,
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 249 
 
 and incitement to virtue ? will it tend to 
 fit or to unfit me for the difcharge of my 
 duty, to make me more flothful or more 
 ndtive ? will it lead me off from God ; or, 
 by a rational and difcreet enjoyment of his 
 bounty, connect me clofer to him ? will it 
 deprive me of my tafte for ferious occu- 
 pations, for fublimer pleafures, of all re- 
 lifh for the \vorfhip of God and the prac- 
 tice of piety, or infpire me with new eager- 
 nefs and powers thereto ? am I fure that it 
 will never caufe me remorfe-and mental 
 pain ; that I mall always recoiled: it with 
 fatisfaction and with thankfulnefs to God 
 who allowed me to enjoy it ? ihall I not 
 lay a Humbling in the way of any one, or 
 iieedlefsly give him pain by the indulgence 
 of this gratification ? mall I not probably 
 thereby induce others of the fame flation 
 with myfelf, but not in fuch good circum- 
 ilances, to follow my example, and fo pre- 
 judice themfelves and others ? and am I, 
 in ihort, actually in wanr of this pleafure ? 
 
 have
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 have I fell deferved it by fome ufcful a(N 
 tions, by a faithful and diligent obferva- 
 tion of my duty ? have I fo confurned my 
 ftrength by labouring in my vocation, or 
 by any other laudable means, that I am in 
 'want of this recreation ? for, as it is faid, 
 ^ He that will not work, fo neither fhoulcl 
 ff he eat-," much rather may it be faid, " He 
 ^ who hath not worked, is not authorifed 
 " to take any pleafute, neither can he com* 
 fc pletely enjoy it." -Whoever earneftly 
 makes thefe reflections, will certainly in- 
 dulge himfelf in no pleafures that are not 
 permitted, or that may be manifeftly de- 
 trimental to himfelf or to others, wilj 
 feldom err in the choice of his pleafures, 
 and never tranfgrefs the bounds of modera- 
 tion , and they will constantly be to him, 
 vi'hat they were intended to be in the gra- 
 cious defigns of their bountiful Creator 
 not the bufinefs, not the main concern, not 
 the end and aim but the fupport, the re- 
 creation, the animation, encouragement,
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 2fl 
 
 and incitement to duty, the path to higher 
 perfection. 
 
 A third rule, that may affift us in the 
 choice of our pleafures, is this : always pre- 
 fer thofe pleafures and diverfions which 
 are at the fame time profitable, to fuch as 
 are limply pleafures and diverfions, or the 
 advantage whereof is very remote and al- 
 mod imperceptible. In this view, the 
 mote mental pleafures have a manifeft pre- 
 ference to the barely fenfual. When t_ 
 pleafe my palate by well-tailed, or charm 
 it by generous and racy wine ; when I flat- 
 ter my olfadtory nerves by aromatic and 
 delicious odours ; when I delight myfelf in 
 the fenfations of a genial warmth, a re- 
 frefhing breeze, or other gentle impref- 
 lions on the organs of feeling ; when I be- 
 guile the tedioufnefs of time by honeft di- 
 verfion ; when I totally unbend, and yield 
 alternately to the fweet impreflions of out- 
 ward things ; all this is real pleafure j but 
 
 it
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 it is merely pleafure, nothing but pleafure, 
 that is fometimes advantageous in its con- 
 fequences, but never of itfelf, As often, 
 on the other hand, as I engage in ufeful 
 and infhruCtive converfation, or fenfible dif- 
 courfej as oi r ten as I contemplate the beau- 
 ties of nature, or the harmony of founds, 
 or the works of art, with carneftnefs and 
 fcntiment ; as often as I adminifter whole- 
 Jbme food to my mind., my fagacity and my 
 fallibility, by reading or hearing ; as often 
 as I employ myfelf in reflection or devo- 
 tion, or in the works of beneficence ; fo 
 often I enjoy pleafure, actual pleafure, but 
 not merely pleafure. I at the fame time en- 
 joy a ufeful exercife of my .mental powers, 
 of my tafte, my fenfibility, and my talents 
 and accordingly forward my perfection and 
 felicity. Therefore continue no labour to 
 abfolute fatigue, till you are quite weak- 
 ened ana exliaufted, and fo force yourfelf 
 to feek mere pleafure, or rather a not dif- 
 agreeablc inactivity and repofc, for attend- 
 ing
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 253 
 
 ing to your health or your life. If then 
 the choice of your pleafures depends on 
 yourfelf, and you may enjoy one as well as 
 another without detriment ; prefer that: 
 which by a moderate employment afford* 
 you recreation and cxercife at once, to that 
 which barely gives you reft, or barely plea- 
 fure, or infpires you with new 
 and vigour only in its 
 
 Fourthly, let no fenfual pleafure become 
 a pafiion, if you would not run the hazard 
 of lofing your freedom, and of falling into- 
 the moft lamentable bondage, lie that 
 indulges himfelf as frequently in fenfuai 
 pleafure as he has the means and opportu- 
 nities for it, will foon find that he cannot 
 forego it without uneaiincfs and pain : and 
 he who cannot deprive himfelf of it. with- 
 out thinking himfelf miferablc, will foort 
 find it become a pafiion ; that is, he will 
 no longer be able towithlland the calls and 
 allurements of it will prefer it to all other 
 j kicds-
 
 $54 THfi VALUE 0"F 
 
 kinds of pleafure, facrifice them all to that 
 one, and think himfelf happy in the en- 
 joyment of that alone. And when he once 
 is fo far gone, how can the man flill pre^ 
 ferve his freedom ? how will he be able 
 to do that which reafon and confcience in 
 all events enjoin him to perform as the' 
 fitteil and beft > how often will he neglect 
 the moft urgent affairs, and violate the moft 
 facred duties, for purfuing this pleafure 
 which is every thing to him ! how often 
 will the bare want of this, or the impof- 
 fibility of enjoying it, render him averfe 
 and unfit to any other exertion of his fa- 
 culties, indifpofe him for any ferious bu- 
 finefs, for any neceflary employment! 
 and how can a man in this fituation be 
 happy ? nay, the oftener he muft deny 
 himfelf the pleafure he fo paffionately pur- 
 fues (and neither his own nature, nor the 
 nature of other things and other men, will 
 allow him fo frequently to enjoy it as he 
 would wifh) the oftener therefore he iiraft 
 
 deny
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 
 
 deny hifhfelf to it, fo much the oftener 
 niuft he, more or lefs, be miferable. 
 Would you then avoid this bondage and 
 this mifery ? thert fuffer not the inclination 
 to fenfual pleafure to get the command 
 over you ; allow it not to become fo violent 
 as thac you cannot withftand it. To this 
 end, accuftom yourfclves to abflinence 
 from this kind of pleafures. Enjoy them 
 not fo frequently as circumstances and time 
 permit ; not fo frequently as you have op- 
 portunities and inclination thereto. Break 
 off from them at times, on purpofe, that 
 you may learn to be deprived of them 
 without anxiety or vexation ; merely that 
 you may maintain the command over your- 
 felf, and the rights of your reafon and li- 
 berty ; merely that you may not become 
 the Haves to fuch things, as you probably 
 muft, one time or other, relinquifh whether 
 you will or no, and the privation of which 
 would render you unhappy, if you had 
 
 pre.-
 
 THE VALUE O P 
 
 previoufly accuftomed yourfelf to it. Hard 
 as the obfervance of this rule may appear, 
 Sirs, it. is abfolutely neceffary for every 
 man who would be wife and virtuous, arid 
 capable of lailing peace and a folid felicity. 
 
 Laftly, for the . enjoyment of fenfual 
 pleafure, however innocent they may be^ 
 neglett not the loftier and purer pleafures 
 of the mind. Let them not render you 
 unfit for thefe. Let thefe ever have the 
 precedence over them. They are deceitful, 
 tranlient, and of Ihort duration ; thefe arc 
 altogether what they feem ; perform all 
 that they promife, and even more; are in- 
 corruptible and eternal. The former we 
 can only enjoy fo long as we have thefe 
 organs of fenfe ; with the death of our body 
 they fall totally away. The latter abide 
 by us after we have paft the grave, and 
 gate of death ; we can enjoy them as long 
 a* our fpirit exifts, and lives, and acls. 
 
 The
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURES. 
 
 The knowledge of truth will be a joy to 
 us for ever, yield us inexhauflible mate- 
 rials for reflection and pleafure, and raife 
 us continually to higher knowledge. Good- 
 nefs, virtuous difpofitions, actions, and ap- 
 titudes, will never ceafe from bleffing us 
 with the delighful fentiments of perfec- 
 tion and intrinfic value. Communion with 
 God will be to us an inexhauftible fource 
 of the moft elevated pleafure and joy. But 
 thefe fpiritual pleafures can only then be fo, 
 after we have known, and loved, and 
 fought and enjoyed them here, and pre- 
 ferred them to every other pleafure. He 
 that has confined himfelf here to merely 
 fenfual pleafures, muft neceflarily be mi- 
 ferable in the future flate. He brings with 
 him the eager defire of pleafure, and all 
 the means for gratifying it are gone. Can 
 you reprefent to yourfelves a ftate of greater 
 torment than this ? 
 
 VOL, I. S Beware
 
 258 THE VALUfi OF 
 
 Beware, Sirs, of this ; purify and exalt 
 yourtafte, frequently reflect on your future 
 lot ; fay oft to yourfelves ; No, I am not 
 wholly duft, not totally to undergo cor- 
 ruption ; lam not merelv an animal man. 
 There is a fpirit within me capable of a 
 rational and undecaying happinefs, and a 
 greater felicity j a fpirit, whofe life and 
 nutriment confifts not in meat and drink, 
 not in fenfual defire, but in knowledge and 
 virtue, and love towards God and man ; 
 a fpirit, whofe future deftination is filled 
 with fueh pleafures, as I at prefent moft 
 feek, moft value, and moft love. Mere 
 fenfual pleaftires cannot fatisfy it; they 
 follow it not into its higher ftate ; it cannot 
 tranfport them with it into a better world. 
 No ; I will even now endeavour to allure 
 myfelf of thofe nobler pleafures, thofe 
 purer joys, to which I am invited as a 
 m^n and a chriftian ; will at prefent prac- 
 tife every thing that can render me ca- 
 pable
 
 SENSUAL PLEASURE. 259 
 
 pable of that expectation ! Then, let all 
 fenfual earthly pleafures be as fliort, as 
 imperfedt. and tranlient as they may, how- 
 ever foon to be torn from me, I ftill know, 
 that quite other fatisfa&ions await me, 
 heavenly> godlike, and eternal, which 
 Will immensely compenfate for the lofs of 
 them; 
 
 ESTI-
 
 ESTIMATE IX. 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 O F 
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 
 
 Be filled with the fpirit. 
 
 Ephef. v. 18. 
 
 THE
 
 C 263 3 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 O F 
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 
 
 FREQUENTLY have I already recom- 
 mended fpiritual pleafures to you, as 
 the pureft, the moft noble, and the moft 
 iafting of all others. Frequently have I 
 reprefented them to you as the moft worthy 
 pf us, both as men and as chriftians, as 
 the moft adequate to our high deftination, 
 and the fitteft preparation for our entrance 
 on the future ftate. Often have I encou- 
 raged and exhorted you to give them the 
 preference to all other kinds of pleafure, 
 with the affurance that yqu will not be 
 S 4 forry
 
 264 THE VALUE OF 
 
 forry for your choice. Even in my laft 
 difcourfe when we . handled the value of 
 fenfuai pleafures, I demonftrated thofe of 
 the fpirit to be far more excellent. And 
 this they certainly are ; as certainly and 
 indifputably as our fpirit is of a nobler na- 
 ture and frame than our body ; as certainly 
 as things undecaying are better than tranfi- 
 tory, infinite greater than finite, eternity 
 of more confequence than time ; as cer- 
 tainly as that our affinity with fpiritual fub- 
 ftances, with Jefus, and with God himfelf r 
 is nobler and more refpedtable than our 
 analogy with the plants and the beafts of 
 the field. He that is acquainted with thefe 
 fpiritual pleafures, who knows them by 
 experience, and has often enjoyed them, 
 can never relinquifh them ; they will be as 
 urgently necelTary to him as eating and 
 drinking to the ienfual man ; and he runs 
 fo little riik of loiing his relifh for them, 
 that, on the contrary, he will have caufe 
 to beware left he Ihould utterly dcfpife and 
 3 reject
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURE. 265 
 
 reject all other pleafures of an inferior or^ 
 der, the enjoyment of which is not only 
 allowed, but is often needful and whole- 
 fome. 
 
 And yet there are comparatively but a 
 fmall number of perfons who' are of this 
 opinion. Senfual pleafures are in general 
 far higher prized, far more ardently fought 
 after, far more ftedfaftly purfued than fpi- 
 ritual. The former will- find a hundred 
 admirers and encomiafls, where the latter 
 will fcarcely have one. The former make 
 a hundred times the fubjeft and joy of fo- 
 cial conventions ; while the latter arc 
 fcarcely mentioned, I mean mentioned with 
 truth and fentiment. Every one praifes 
 the former, both young and old, whether 
 he partakes of them or not ; while the latter 
 are but feldom noticed, and declared to be 
 what they really are. 
 
 And
 
 2.66 THE VALUE OF 
 
 And whence does this arife ? Does it 
 not, partly at leaft, proceed from hence, 
 that tbefe pleafures are not fufficiently 
 known ; that we do not rightly underftand 
 what they are, what they produce, what 
 they infure to us, and wherein their pro- 
 per value confifts ? Indeed the effence of 
 pleafure, of whatever kind, or that which 
 caufes pleafure to be fo, is not to be de- 
 icribed, not ftrictly to be defined. Plea- 
 fure is fentiment. He that would properly 
 know it, he that would tafte its fweets, 
 muft himfelf experience, muft himfelf en- 
 joy it. Let us, however, inveftigate the 
 fources of thefe pleafures, and difplay their 
 fruits and effects. Something, at leaft, may 
 be fajd of their nature and frame. And 
 thereby a greater attention may be excited 
 towards them, and a greater defire of at- 
 taining to them. Probably a refolution 
 may be wrought in us to become better 
 acquainted with them by a diligent exami- 
 nation of their merits. 
 
 And
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 267 
 
 And this is what I am defirous of doing 
 at prefent in regard of fpiritual pleafures. 
 I may, perhaps, contribute either to render 
 fuch to whom they are ftrange, or not fuf- 
 ficiently familiar, more attentive to them, 
 or to ftrengthen and confirm the avidity 
 and love of them in fuch as have already 
 directed their tafte that way. 
 
 This is, if not the only, at leaft an in- 
 difpenfable means of obeying the apoftle's 
 injunction, when he exhorts the chriflians 
 to be filled with the fpirit. Be impreffed 
 with the fpirit of religion ; open your un- 
 derftanding and your heart to its influence ; 
 let that which makes you wife and upright 
 chriflians, which infpires you with pru- 
 dent and virtuous difpofitions, which will 
 give you a fpiritual life, fpiritual faculties, 
 and fpiritual joys, be much dearer to you 
 than any other gratifications. Seek them 
 with infinitely greater ardour than fuch as 
 degrade your fpirir, and may eafily lead 
 
 you
 
 268 THE VALUE Og 
 
 you aftray. We fhall not therefore depart 
 from the purpofe of the apoftolical exhor- 
 tation, if we 
 
 Acquaint you with the qualities of fpi- 
 ritual pleafures, and their excellent value. 
 To this end, I Ihall, 
 
 Firft, make fome general reflections on 
 fpiritual pleafures; and 
 
 Then- go through the principal kinds of 
 them in particular, and point out their 
 value. 
 
 You know, Sirs, from my lad difcourfej 
 what we are to underftand by fpiritual plea- 
 fures ; namely, pleafures which our fpirit 
 procures to itfelf, which are produced 
 more by its own activity than by the im- 
 reffions made externally on our fenfes. 
 Our fenfes indeed afford ns the materials 
 thereto, they give our fpirk the firft ideas 
 
 of
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 
 
 of them, and they are improved and ncm- 
 rifhed by their miniftration. But our fpirit 
 employs thefe materials, arranges, fepa- 
 rates, and combines them ; it reflects upon 
 that which we perceive and experience 
 by our fight, by our hearing, and by our 
 feeling. Proceeds from particulars to ge- 
 nerals> from vifible to invifible ; and when 
 it difcovers order, truth, beauty, goodnefs, 
 and perfection, it forms mental reprefenta- 
 tions of them, more or lefs active and ap- 
 parent, and can withal make returns upon 
 itfelf and its powers with confcioufnefs. 
 Or whenever it can exert and difplay its 
 proper powers eafily and effectually in a 
 manner adapted to its views and delires 
 let the things wherein it is employed be 
 either true or not true, good or evil ; it 
 then enjoys what we term fpiritual plea- 
 fure. It has. 3 pleafant fenfation of its ex- 
 iftence, of its prefent condition, which is 
 founded on this fentiment and diiplay of 
 
 its
 
 4 7 THE VALUE OF 
 
 its capacities and powers, and its reference* 
 to the whole material and fpiritual world. 
 
 Thefc fpiritual pleafures are frequently 
 divided into pleafures of the underftanding 
 and pleafures of the heart. The pleafures 
 of the underftanding are founded on know- 
 ledge, clear penetration on plain and com- 
 prehenfive conceptions, and a luminous en- 
 trance into the unlimited regions of truth ; 
 on the great multitude of ideas, which, 
 however aftonifliing in number, have no 
 common connection between them; on 
 eafy, quick, and happy turns of wit, on 
 the imagination, and on reafon. The plear- 
 fures of the heart conftft more in lively 
 fentiments, the demonftration and difplay 
 of what is true, beautiful, good, generous, 
 or great and extraordinary ; but princi- 
 pally in benevolence and beneficence. 
 In fa<ft, they are not properly to be fepa- 
 rated, they are all operations of one and 
 the fame fpiritual power, the underftand- 
 ing
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 2J t 
 
 ing having generally an equal fhare in each, 
 and they cannot be farther diitinguifhed. 
 
 Every fpiritual, as well as every fenfual 
 pleafure, is real pleafure, is, for the time, 
 a really agreeable fenfation, whether mo- 
 rally good or evil, innocent or criminal. 
 When the envious and malevolent man 
 divulges any fecret infirmity of his brother, 
 drags into view his imperfections and fail- 
 ings, and delights in difplaying them to 
 the world, when he indulges his rancour 
 on the misfortunes of an enemy, and enjoys 
 the defcription of them with all their la- 
 mentable effects ; he receives a real plea- 
 fure, he actually feels agreeable fenfations. 
 But his pleafure is fo far from being ea- 
 viable, that it is deteftable, fhocking, 
 and diabolical ; a pleafure that debafes and 
 deftroys the man ; a pleafure, that fooner 
 or later will repay him with pain and re- 
 morfe, will deprive him of a thoufand 
 
 nobler
 
 Z72. THE VALUE OF 
 
 nobler pleafures, and make him at length 
 incapable of them. 
 
 Hence it follows, that there are like- 
 wife fpiritual pleafures that are unlawful 
 and guilty. All of them are not harmlefs, 
 all of them are not noble, or worthy of the 
 man and the chriftian. To devife diffufive, 
 complicated, and artful fchemes for coiu- 
 paffing the hurt of another, and to execute 
 them efFe&ually, notwithstanding all the 
 obftacles and difficulties a man meets with 
 in his dark, finifter, and perilous way, to 
 employ his fagacity in exciting perplexity 
 and doubt on matters of ferious concern - 
 to torture the innocent by his wit, to 
 tarnifh the merit of the deferving, to make 
 refpeclable things ridiculous, to give free 
 fcope to his humour in writings or dif- 
 eourfe, howevtr it may wound or difpkafe ; 
 all this is fpiritual pleafure, but low, dif- 
 graceful, guilty pleafure. Pleafure that 
 can excite agreeable fen fations only in the 
 
 heart
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 273 
 
 h'eart of ungenerous, evil-minded, and vi- 
 cious men. 
 
 Still farther. Even harmlefs, exalted 
 fpiritual pleafures may become hurtful 
 when immoderately enjoyed, when conti- 
 nued till they exhauft our powers, deilroy 
 our health, or even fhorten our life. Even 
 innocent, noble pleafures may become cri- 
 minal, when by our inflexible adherence 
 to them we are prevented from difcharging 
 the duties of our ftation, our office, or our 
 vocation ; when they deprive us of the fo- 
 ciety and converfation of our fellow-crea- 
 tures; when, by too itriclly avoiding all 
 fenfual or fociai pleafures, we bring wif- 
 dom, virtue, and prudence, into difrepute. 
 Thus will even the pleafures of piety be 
 hurtful and guilty in refpec"t of a man, 
 who Ihould negledt the affairs of his calling 
 for them, or omit his duty towards his 
 parents, his children, or his family. Thefe 
 obfervations, Sirs, will be fufficient for 
 VOL. I. T gi v ' in g
 
 274 THE VALUE OF 
 
 giving you a conception of fpiritual plea- 
 lures in general, and to keep you from 
 mifapplying thefe juft reprefentations of 
 them. 
 
 Every application of our fpiritual powers 
 that is performed without violence, or 
 wearifome efforts, with eafe and effect, 
 procures us fpiritual pleafures, be the ob- 
 ject what it may, important or unim- 
 portant, great or fmall, whether it relate 
 to religion or the fciences, or the arts, or 
 to common life. Whenever we frame in 
 our minds clear reprefentations of things, 
 difcriminate them more or lefs by our 
 ucutenefs, difcover their principles and 
 connections by our reaibn or, by our 
 imagination, make what is abfent to be pre- 
 ient to us, render the invifible vifible, give 
 a reality in our minds to what is barely 
 poffible ; and thus, as it were, create new 
 worlds of our own : whenever we manifefl 
 our powers in this or any fimilar manner, 
 
 and
 
 SPIRITUAL PL EASURES. 275 
 
 and are confcious of it to ourfelves, we im- 
 mediately experience a pleafmg fentiment 
 of exiftence, and of our adual condition. 
 We are rejoiced to feel that we have this 
 power, that we exert it, that we are able 
 to employ it in fuch various ways, and 
 with fuch good effects, that we can apply 
 it to thefe or other matters. And this fen- 
 timent of our faculties muft bo fo much 
 the more delightful to us, muft communi- 
 cate fo much greater value to our plea- 
 fures, fo much clearer conviction, that 
 they eflentially belong to our Self, and are 
 a far more folid ground of our perfection 
 and happinefs, than all the outward things 
 that we poffefs and eileem. 
 
 We therefore farther enjoy fpiritual 
 pleafure when we labour at the augmenta- 
 tion and rectification of our knowledge, and 
 are employed to this end in reading or re- 
 flection, or in both of them at once. And, 
 in faft, Sirs, what a pleafure muft it pro- 
 T 2 cure
 
 276 THE VALUE F 
 
 cure us when we confider the works of na- 
 ture ; when we inveftigate the plants, the 
 animals, and man, their various powers, 
 faculties, views, connections, operations, 
 and objects ; when we contemplate the di- 
 verfity, the greatnefs, the order, the beau- 
 ty, the harmony of all the Creator's works ! 
 every where life, activity, and action 
 every where defign, principles, and means 
 of felicity and joy, or actual enjoyment, 
 enjoyment infinitely diverfified of happinels 
 and delight ; on all lides fo great and fuch 
 various powers arifing, unfolding them- 
 felves, and operating in their allotted 
 fphere; operating in fuch various, in fuch 
 oppoiite directions, and ever contributing 
 to the fupport and advantage of the whole ! 
 What a pleafure, when we lift up our- 
 felves in thought from the earth to the 
 ikies, and are loft among the number- 
 lefs multitude of funs and- worlds, of fources 
 of exigence .and life, of new theatres of 
 the n.ajcfty and glory of God, and foar 
 
 from
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 277 
 
 from one part of his immeafurableUdng- 
 -dom to another, and never difcover either 
 border or limits to his power and wifdom ! 
 when we find the Creator of the world 
 every where great, immenfely great in 
 every part as in the whole, in a grain of 
 fand as in the, fabric of the world, im- 
 menfely great, and immenfely good ! What 
 a delightful, what a ravifhing fentiment of 
 our powers, of our exiftence, of our rela- 
 tionfhip with the world and its author, muft 
 thefe confiderations and profpedts excite in 
 ,our hearts ! With what a pure and fpiri- 
 tual pleafure muft we be filled ! and this, 
 in a greater or a lefs degree, muft every 
 enlargement of our views, every addition 
 to our knowledge, every not totally fuc- 
 cefslefs inveftigation of nature and the de- 
 fign of things, produce ; every ftep where- 
 by We appro'ach to the difcovery of truth, or 
 which gives us a plainer and clearer concep- 
 tion of the truths we already know. This 
 is produced in particular by the confidera-. 
 T 3 tion
 
 2/8 THE VALUE OF 
 
 tion of the doctrines of religion, as God 
 himfelf has revealed them in his word, and 
 principally by Jefus. The purer, the 
 richer, the more certain the fources of this 
 knowledge be, the more muft they fatisfy 
 our thirft after illumination, and truth, 
 and afTurance ; the more true and lading 
 pleafure muft we acquire from them. 
 
 A third fource of fpiritual pleafure lies 
 particularly in reflections on ourfelves, on 
 our nature, our powers and faculties, our 
 prefent and future condition. Certainly, 
 a wide and fruitful field of meditation, 
 xvhich, if we love goodnefs, with all our 
 faults and infirmities, opens to us far more 
 pleafant than unpleafant views, fupplies us 
 with far more materials for agreeable than 
 difagreeable fenfations. What man but 
 muft rejoice in his exiftence, when he 
 knows and feels it, when he has learnt 
 what is, and has been, and will be; when., 
 with all his imperfections and weakneiTes, 
 
 he
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 279 
 
 he evidently difcovers in himfelf the linea- 
 ments of the image of God, the germ of 
 future dignity and grandeur ; when he fees 
 how much he may increafe from everlaft- 
 ing to everlafting, in knowledge and vir- 
 tue, and activity, and blifs ! when we re- 
 flecl what God has already done for man 
 by Jefus, and how much greater things he 
 allows him to hope for in the future world ! 
 What prolific difpofitions, what great, and 
 as yet almoft unopened abilities, what ac- 
 tive and effective powers, but at prefent 
 circumfcribed and limited on all fides, and 
 reftrained and comprefled, does he find in 
 himfelf, when he at times investigates the 
 texture of his foul, and obferves the ac- 
 tivity and career of his fpirit ! then how 
 muft his appointment rejoice him ; and 
 how much greater and nobler muft this joy 1 
 be than all fenfible and tranfient things can 
 give him ! 
 
 T 4 Fourthly,
 
 THE VALUE OF 
 
 Fourthly, it is a great fpiritual pleafure, 
 when we labour at our moral improvement, 
 and find our labour attended by happy 
 effects. What a delightful fenfation we 
 feel when we have avoided one temptation 
 to fin, or fortunately conquered another ! 
 when we form a good purpofe and carry it 
 into execution ! now, no more to commit 
 a fault that ufed fo often and fo fuddenly 
 to furprize us, no longer to fubmit to its 
 ftrong attractions ! then to perform with 
 readinefs and joy fome good and generous 
 action, which ufed to feem fo hard, to 
 which, we were much averfe, and muft be 
 urged to it by compulfion ! What a plea- 
 lure when we perceive a greater degree of 
 truth, order, -and harmony conftantly pre- 
 iiding over our difpofitions, our fentiments, 
 our opinions, and our adions , that we are 
 ever niore fcldom liable to error and fin, 
 feldomer deceived by fenfual delires, or 
 driven about by inordinate paffions ; that 
 pur love pf goodnefs i$ always improving in 
 
 ftrength
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 2 8 1 
 
 ftrength and activity ; that .we are con- 
 flantly advancing towards chrillian perfec- 
 tion and freedom, and thereby to a nearer 
 refemblaRce with Jefus, our leader and 
 lord, and ever more fit to be in fellowship 
 with God himfelf ! to conquer onefelf, and 
 to overcome the world ; to be able to 
 tranfport onefelf from bondage to freedom; 
 to feel new life, new ftrength within ; to 
 be proceeding on the way of wifdom and 
 virtue ; to be conftantly advancing nearer 
 to the mark of our high calling, what in- 
 triniic, what pure delights mufl a man 
 procure himfelf thereby, who feels his own 
 dignity, and ftrives after perfection ! and 
 how much more value muft thefe pleafures 
 Acquire in his eyes, as all of them are 
 adapted to procure him riches and honour, 
 to improve his circumftances,and to give 
 him fenfual pleafures ! 
 
 We .enjoy, fifthly, fpiritual pleafures, 
 when we hold ufeful and iuftruftive dif- 
 
 courfc
 
 2S2," THE VALUE OF 
 
 courfe with others ; when we reciprocally 
 impart our obfervations, our doubts and 
 experiences to each other ; confirm one 
 another in our good and chriftian difpofi- 
 tions ; when in this communion we deli- 
 berate on our affairs and profpects both in 
 the prefent and the future world ; and this 
 in the fpirit of love ; in the language of 
 confidence, and in the abundance of our 
 heart ! Then one thought brings forth and 
 develops another ; one fentitnent excites 
 and corroborates another, one heart warms 
 and rejoices another. One helps another 
 forward in the way of improvement, of 
 \vifdom, of happinefs and virtue. Each 
 partakes of the light, of the warmth, of 
 the life, and the powers of the reft. And 
 what is more bleffed, than in this way to 
 give and to receive, and thereby to unite 
 onefelf more clofely with wife and good 
 men ! how far muft this noble fpiritual 
 pleafure, which is never exhaufted and 
 never infipid, which brings after it neither 
 
 vexation
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 2$g 
 
 vexation nor remorfe, how far muft it iex- 
 cel every other, every fmaller kind of fpi- 
 ritual focial pleafure ! 
 
 A fixth fource of fpiritual pleafure, no 
 lefs rich, and ftill purer than the former, 
 is a general hearty benevolence towards all 
 mankind. How delighted muft this make 
 the fpirit of the man, of the chrirtian ! 
 what mild and genial fenfations muft it ex- 
 cite a-nd fupport ! he fees his brethren and 
 lifters in all the human race, creatures and 
 children of his heavenly Father ; fharers 
 in his immortality, and the glories of ever- 
 lafting life ; how pleafant then muft their 
 countenances be to him ! how much beau- 
 ty, goodnefs, and amiablenefs, muft he fee 
 in them, which is and remains invifible to 
 the eyes of the envious, the malicious, and 
 the thoughtlefs man! how great a fhare, 
 how agreeable, and delightful a fhare does 
 he take in their fortunes, their merit, their 
 fuccefs, and their advances in the way of 
 a per-
 
 24 THE VALUE OF 
 
 perfection ' how heartily does he rejoice 
 therein ! how bleffed in them and with 
 them ; while all is indifferent to the unfeel- 
 ing man, who finds nothing in it for his 
 thoughts or his fenfations ! 
 
 And when lie proportionably exerts his 
 benevolence, and is actually beneficent to- 
 wards his brethren, in ferving and helping 
 them, in comforting and chearing them, 
 in lefTening their mifery, in advancing their 
 happinefs ; when he in general leads a ufe- 
 ful life, and is productive of goodnefs 
 about him : how happy is he then ! what 
 pleafures ftream into his heart, and what ftill 
 purer has he not to hope for, what inex- 
 hauftible fources of pleafure in futurity, in 
 the profpedt of all the good confequences 
 of his beneficent deeds ! 
 
 Laftly, Sirs, the nobleft and moft ex- 
 alted kind of fpiritual pleafure, are doubt- 
 lefs the pleafures of piety. Represent to 
 
 your-
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 285 
 
 yourfelves, that at leaft you may acquire 
 fome conceptions of this pleafure ; repre- 
 fent to yourfelves a man, who raifcs him- 
 felf with his whole fpirit to the Moil High, 
 whofe whole foul is penetrated with thoughts 
 of God, who feels the prefence of him 
 with ftronger vivacity than ordinary, per- 
 ceives his power, his vvifdom, his goodnefs 
 on all fides, in the cleareft light, feels 
 thatj in this God he lives, and moves, and 
 has his being, that his God is his cre- 
 ator, his protedtor, his father, his bene- 
 fadtor, and will be fo for ever; that 
 through him he fubfifts, and thinks, and 
 a&s, and is happy ; a .man who rejoices in 
 his God, and enjoys a clofe and intimate 
 connection with him, experiences the 
 highefl, and conftantly efficient benevo- 
 lence of this God towards him, meditates 
 on all the goodnefs he has received of him, 
 .and expects, in perfect confidence, dill 
 larger fupplies of bounty from him; a 
 that proflrates himielf before the great 
 
 parent
 
 286 THE VALUE OF 
 
 parent of the world, in ientiments of fe* 
 verence and love, addrefles him as the 
 Being from whom all things proceed, and 
 to whom all things belong, loies him- 
 lelf in reflexions on his majefty and iplen- 
 dor, repofes entirely on his will, in perfect 
 confidence furrenders to him the guidance 
 and direction of his life, lays all his 
 thoughts, his fentiments, his defires, his 
 wants, his cares, his hopes, without dread 
 or hefitation, before him, and from the 
 fuhiefs of divine power and love imbibes 
 and enjoys whatever can ftrengthen and 
 comfort, and improve, and blefs him ; a 
 man who reprefents this God to himfelf, 
 as he is revealed to us by Jefus, feels the 
 entire felicity of his near connection and 
 reiationiliip with the only-begotten of the 
 Father, with the Saviour and deliverer 
 of men, the entire felicity of a redeemed 
 of the Lord, of being a member of his 
 fpirkual body, of being a ehriftian, and of 
 thus having fellowship with the Father, 
 and with Jefus his fon ; a man, who, in 
 
 thefe
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 287 
 
 thefe bleffed views, thcfe inward fenti- 
 ments of the Godhead, unites himfelf with 
 all his brethren upon earth in the prefence 
 of their common father, who embraces them 
 all, like him, in the arms of his benevo- 
 lence and love, who ftrives to bring them 
 all with himfelf to a nearer approximation 
 to him, to render them more well-pleaiing 
 in his fight, and to enlarge their capacities 
 of his dile&ion andgoodnefs; a man, in 
 fhort, who lofes from his fight what is ter- 
 reftrial and tranfient, already tranfports 
 himielf in Ipirit 3 into his future and better 
 ftatc, ]oms the lociety of juft men made 
 perfedt, ioars to the abodes of fuperior 
 fpirits, already taftes fomething of their 
 purer felicity, and enjoys beforehand the 
 pleafures he is hereafter to receive ; repre- 
 fent to yourfelves, I fay, fuch a man, fuch 
 a chrillian, and pronounce whether fuch 
 practices of piety do not render him happy 
 in a high degree; whether the pleafure, 
 the fatisfacYion, the joy they procure him, 
 
 mull
 
 288 THE VALUE OF 
 
 muft not be the greateft, the moft exalted, 
 the mod excellent of all the pleafures 
 whereof he is capable. 
 
 - Behold then fo many abundant fources 
 of Ipiritual pleafures that fland open to 
 you ! You may all draw water out of thefe 
 wells of lalvation ! draw joy and felicity 
 from them ! Spiritual pleafures are not 
 referved exclufively to the fcholar or the 
 divine. No , they are adapted to you all ! 
 None are deficient in all the faculties and 
 means for the enjoyment of them ; none 
 can neglect them without manifeftly injur- 
 ing his happinefs. But indeed they are not 
 alike copious to all, equally lively, equally 
 agreeable and delightful. Indeed they muft 
 be almoft wholly unknown and foreign to 
 you, if you do not exercife your fpiritual 
 powers, if you do not elevate them above 
 fenfible things, if you do not accuftom 
 yourfelves to refiedl upon what you fee, 
 what you hear, what you do, and what 
 
 you
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 28$ 
 
 you experience ; if you ftudioufly avoid 
 retirement and filence, the parent of the 
 pureft of fpiritual pleafures ; or if you 
 regard knowledge, and wifdom, and vir- 
 tue, as indifferent things. 
 
 Avoid thefe miftakes, Sirs, if you would 
 underftand what fpiritual pleafures are, and 
 enjoy them when underftood. Exercife 
 yourfeives in whatever may procure you 
 fuch pleafures, though at firft they fhould 
 feem hard or difagreeable to you. As 
 there are various kinds of fenfible pleafures 
 of which we cannot partake, unlefs we have 
 learnt and pra&ifed them ; fo likewife muft 
 our capacities be drawn forth and exercifed 
 to fpiritual pleafures, our tafte muft be 
 framed to them, we muft know them, muft 
 ufe the proper means to acquire them, 
 muft enjoy, and learn to enjoy them more. 
 
 Learn to reflect, to think with confci- 
 
 oufnefs and confideration, think on what 
 
 VOL. I. U you
 
 T&E VALUE OP 
 
 you have thought of, again and again, till- 
 it be clear and plain to your underftanding, 
 and important to your heart. Study to- 
 read, to hear, to feel, and to obferve, with 
 attention, reflection, and intereft. Lean* 
 to collect your thoughts, and prevent their 
 difperfion. Frequently call them off from 
 outward things, and direQ: them to your- 
 felf, to your present condition, and your 
 future Hate. Learn particularly to con- 
 verfe with God, in all iituations to think 
 of him and to behold him, to triumph in 
 his exiftence, his prefence, and his bene- 
 factions. Learn to pray, .and thereby to have 
 communion with . him. Do this, though 
 never fo imperfedily at firft, in ever fo 
 ihort, fo interrupted, and fo irkfome a way, 
 from your infirmity and want of practice. 
 But do it frequently ; devote certain hours 
 and times thereto; return to it again i let 
 not your weakneffes terrify you from it ; 
 think not to reap before you have fown. 
 The oftcner, the more iedulouily you do 
 
 this,
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. ' 2<?I 
 
 this, fo much the eafier and the more 
 chearfully will you do it, fo much the 
 more pleafure will you procure and find, 
 ib much the higher relilh for this kind of 
 pleafures ; and foon you will not be able to 
 do without it, you will prefer it infinitely 
 beyond any thing elfe. 
 
 I will not fay, that you mufl relin- 
 quilh all fenfual pleafures, for feeking 
 and enjoying only fiich as are fpiritual. 
 No ; you may enjoy them both ; but thefe 
 are much purer, nobler, and more lafting 
 than the others ; thefe will render you far 
 more perfedt and happy than they can do ; 
 they muft be of infinitely greater value to 
 you, if you would be what you are or- 
 dained to be as men, and as chriftians. 
 
 And herein, Sirs, you mufl take Jefus, 
 our great captain and guide, for your pat- 
 tern, who has gone the way of wifdom and 
 happinefs before you. He enjoyed like- 
 U 2 wife
 
 292 THE VALUE O? 
 
 wife fenfual pleafures ; fat down to feafls ; 
 allbciated with men of various kinds j ate 
 and drink, as he fays himfelf, like other 
 folks, without diftinguifhing himfelf from 
 them by an extraordinary auflerity. But 
 fpirkual pleafures had infinitely the pre- 
 ference with him. To do the will of him 
 that fent him, and to finim his work, and 
 to be ufeful to his brethren, was his 
 food, his pleafanteft, his darling bufinefs. 
 The pleafure of doing good was peferred 
 by him to all the conveniencies of life, to 
 fleep, to reft, and to every other comfort. 
 He pafl whole nights in prayer and thankf- 
 giving ; not from compulfion, not becaufe 
 it was his duty ; but becaufe it was his de- 
 light, and his real life. He took part in 
 all that happened around him ; but always 
 fo that his fpirit was bufy in it, reflecting 
 upon it, and feeking to apply it by fome 
 means or other to the inftrudtion and ad- 
 vantage of fuch as flood by. God, fu- 
 turity, his million from the Father, his re- 
 turn
 
 SPIRITUAL PLEASURES. 293 
 
 turn to him, his grand, beneficent work 
 on earth, were ever before his eyes, and 
 ver in his heart. Love towards God, his 
 heavenly Father, and love towards men, 
 directing and bleffing him at every ftep, 
 were the foul of all his fentiments and ac- 
 tions, the fource of his fublime, his god- 
 like joy ! Endeavour to referable him in 
 this, all of you who endeavour after chrif- 
 tian perfection and happinefs, Confider 
 yourfelves not barely as fenfual creatures ; 
 not merely as mortal, but alfo as immortal 
 men ; not merely as Grangers and pilgrims 
 on the earth, but likewife as the citizens 
 of heaven ; confine not your views to things 
 vifible and tranfhory, but extend them to 
 the invisible and eternal ; flrive to fulfill 
 your whole vocation, and fo poflefs every 
 real joy, every kind of felicity which God 
 hath prepared for you, .both in this and 
 the future world. 
 
 E S T I,
 
 ESTIMATE X. 
 
 THE 
 
 O F 
 
 Be filled with the fpirit. 
 
 EpheC Y. 1 8, 
 
 -U4 THE
 
 C 297 ] 
 
 THE 
 
 VALUE 
 
 O F 
 
 DEVOTION, 
 
 DEVOTION, this nobleft of all fpiri- 
 tual pleafures; devotion undergoes 
 the reproach, not only of confefledly wicked 
 men, but at times likewife of better dif. 
 pofed perfons, as promifing more than it 
 performs, as being more cried up than its 
 merits deferve. The principles, however, 
 on which thefe judgements are founded are 
 very different. The former, the vicious 
 man, has no fentiment, no feeling for re- 
 fined fpiritual pleafures. God, and reli- 
 gion, and lilent meditation upon them, arc 
 
 matters
 
 -98 THE VALUE 
 
 matters of no importance to him ; often,, 
 perhaps, irkfome or frightful to him. He 
 -therefore rejeds every thing he hears faid 
 .and reported of the jx>ys of this nature, as 
 the effects of fancy and felf-deceit. The 
 latter, the well-difpofed man, does' not 
 .proceed fo far. The .exercifes of religion 
 are not indifferent to him. He has fug- 
 geflions and prefentiments in their favour, 
 that they may be ufeful and agreeable. . He 
 has obferved thefe exercifes not abfolutely 
 without pleafure. But prejudices, want 
 of experience, imperfeft examinations of 
 the fubjeft, prevent him from taking them 
 for what they really are, from enjoying 
 what others pretend to enjoy therein ; 
 and the fufpicion of their being lefs im- 
 portant, and lefs productive, is continually 
 increafing upon him. I have frequently, 
 fays he to himfelf, I have frequently heard 
 of .the value, the excellency, and the uti- 
 lity of devotion. Deuotion, it is Taid^ 
 
 diffufes
 
 OF DEVOTION. 
 
 jdiffufes the cleared light pvef the undcr- 
 ftanding of man ; warms his heart with . 
 the nobleft fentiments, with the moft de- 
 lightful fenfations of the love of God and 
 man ; is his belt comforter in all the*cares 
 and troubles of life ; procures him the 
 pureft and the fublimeft joys ; and brings 
 him conftantly nearer to the divinity. I will 
 believe it, fays the miftaken or the feeble 
 chriftian, fince people fay fo. The tefti- 
 mony is of weight with me. But my experi- 
 ence, I muft confefs, is not in correfpond- 
 ence with it. I pray, I read too ; I attend 
 the church fervice ; and I do all this with 
 attention, and in the view of becoming 
 better and happier. But the illumination, 
 the pleafure, the joy, which others boaft, 
 I feel nothing of. On the contrary, the 
 performance of thefe duties is frequently 
 burdenfome to me, I am often forced to do 
 violence to myfelf, if I would avoid dif- 
 tradion on fuch occalions ; and, after thefe 
 
 exercifes.
 
 ' THE VALUE 
 
 exsrcifcs, I commonly find myfelf neither 
 better, nor more at reft, nor more fatif- 
 fied than I was before. Let a ftrong temp- 
 tation prefent itfelf, I fall as diredtly under 
 it. If any misfortune befalls me, it as 
 quickly overfets me. If I fuffer any con- 
 fiderable lofs, I can fcarcely fupport it. Am 
 I to make any facrince to virtue, to forego 
 all thoughts of revenge, or to do good 
 to my enemy ? I am deficient in power and 
 inclination to it. If I fall into danger, I 
 no more know what part to take, or whom 
 to truft. Where then is the mighty ad- 
 vantage, the great blefiing of devotion ? 
 Is it not all, perhaps, fanaticifm and fancy ? 
 No; that it is not, my chriflian brother, 
 my chriftian filler! it is truth and reafon ? 
 it is really and truly what fuch as under- 
 fland aud revere it, give out that it is. 
 The deficiency of thy experience cannot 
 demonftrate the contrary. It only demon- 
 ftrates, that thy devotion is not what it 
 might and what it ought to be. 
 
 Every
 
 Of DEVOTION. 30! 
 
 Every thing that pafles for devotion is 
 not truly fuch. No term perhaps is more 
 lavilhed, mifapplied, and prophaned than 
 this. One while it is made to fignify 
 outward, ceremonious, ufages and folem- 
 nities. At another, the merely being pre- 
 fent at the public worfliip. Sometimes a 
 cold reading or repeating of certain forms 
 of prayer. And fometimes every reflection, 
 however erroneous, in God or religion, is 
 honoured with this refpectable name. 
 Yet ail this is not devotion. At moft, it 
 is only fomething like devotion, or fome- 
 thing that may excite it. It can therefore 
 poflefs none of the value, procure none of 
 the advantages, nor afford us any of the joys 
 which devotion confers upon us. No; 
 this is not what the words of the apoftle 
 imply, the being filled with the fpirit. 
 The fignification of this is much larger. 
 It means a heart thoroughly imprefled with 
 the doctrines of religion and chriftianity, 
 
 and
 
 302 THE VALUE 
 
 and a perfed: confidence in them. To fet- 
 tle your notions on this matter, to warn 
 you againft mifconceptions about it, and 
 to give fome fuggeftions to worthy and 
 fruitful devotion, is the defign of my pre- 
 fent difcourfe. To this end I fhall do two 
 things. 
 
 Firft, point out to you what devotion is-, 
 wherein its value confifts, what benefit it 
 procures to mankind; and 
 
 Then, what is required of a man, what 
 he muft do, wherein he muft exercife him- 
 felf, of what he muft beware, for obtain- 
 ing the advantages of it, and in particular 
 for enjoying the pure pleafure we are pro- 
 mifed from devotion, and for conftantly 
 improving that enjoyment. 
 
 Devotion is not fo much a duty, as the 
 prerogative and the reward of duty. It is 
 not to be commanded; not to be extorted ; 
 
 all
 
 OF DEVOTION. 
 
 at! men are not capable of it ; all cannot 
 enjoy it in the fame manner, and to the 
 fame degree. It is the property rather of 
 the confirmed and trained than of the weak 
 and unfettled chriilian. It befpeaks an en- 
 lightened mind, a good, well-regulated 
 heart, an innocent condudt, free from all 
 intentional tranfgreffions and iniquities, a 
 certain exercife and fkill in ^efle&ing on 
 fpiritual matters, a confirmed tafte for 
 them j in fhort, a certain avidity for re- 
 tirement, and for felf-inveftigation. When 
 the man, the chriftian, who finds himlelf 
 in pofleffion ofthefe, collects hi mfe If from 
 diftraclion, betakes himfelf to retirement, 
 and there directs his meditations towards 
 God and facred things, the attention, he be- 
 ftows on thefe matters is devotion. Thefe 
 things will be of the utmofl importance to 
 him ; his heart will take the greateft, the 
 ftrongefl intereft in them ; hence will pro- 
 ceed fentiments of reverence, of love, of 
 gratitude towards God, a hearty confidence 
 
 in
 
 THE VALUE 
 
 in him, a perfect fubmiffion to his will, 
 fentiments of joy, of hope, of affiance, of 
 afpirations after purer and more exalted 
 virtue and happinefs, after a clofer con- 
 nection with God, a more intimate union 
 with Jefus, as the chieftain and head of the 
 chriftian fold. And then he enjoys the be- 
 nefit of devotion, the advantages and the 
 pleafures it procures its friends and con- 
 fidents. And how great are thefe advan- 
 tages ! how diverfified thefe benefits and 
 pleafures ! 
 
 Nothing elevates and fortifies the fpirit 
 of a man more than devotion. He lifts up 
 himfelf to God, and meditates on his great- 
 nefs and glory ; he exalts himfelf to the 
 Father of fpirits, to the eternal fource of 
 light, of power, of truth, of beauty, and 
 perfection. He feels his connexion, his 
 intimate, indhToluble, his blefled connec- 
 tion with this firft, and greateft, and bcft 
 of beings. He fees and confiders all things 
 
 around
 
 OF DEVOTION, 305 
 
 around him, as the work of his hands, as 
 the obje&s of his prpvidence and his boun- 
 ty. He fees and coniiders himfelf as his 
 creature, as his rational fubjedfc, as his 
 eminently favoured child, as the objeit of 
 his loving-kindnefs and mercy, as an inftru- 
 ment of his all-quickening fpirit, his ever- 
 operating power. And when he thus ap- 
 proaches his Creator and Father, and has 
 fuch a communion with him, -how much, 
 more juftly, generoufly, and nobly does 
 he learn to think, and judge, and feel! 
 how readily does he perceive the tvretched- 
 r.efs of all human grandeur ! how far does 
 he foar above the thoufands of little terref- 
 trial concerns, fo many infignirkant ob- 
 je<fts of the envy, the jealoufy, ami the 
 diflentions of mankind ! how is he occu- 
 pied with more and much loftier things, 
 in clofe participation, with delight and 
 love ! and what ilrength mufl this impart 
 to his fpirit ! how innnitely muft it enlarge 
 he fphere and the comprehenlion of his 
 VOL, I. X under-
 
 306 THE VALUE 
 
 underfiaiuling ! how much the fenfibility of 
 his heart ! how much more noble, more 
 'heavenly, more godlike fentiments, muft 
 it give him ! 
 
 For thefe reafons, nothing carries a man 
 farther on his progrefs in virtue than de- 
 votion. It makes him more acquainted 
 with God, the original of all that is beau- 
 tiful, and good, and eftimable, and lovely, 
 It renders him more intimate with Jefus, 
 the vifible likenefs of his Father, the fum 
 and fubftance of all human perfection. It 
 ppens to him on all fides greater difplayf 
 of truth, and order, and goodnefs in every 
 part of the immenfe kingdom of God, in 
 the government of the Moft High. It 
 makes him feel the dignity of his nature, 
 and the grandeur of his vocation. It kin- 
 dles and inflames his ardour to become 
 what he is capable of being. It tranfports 
 him over the boundaries of death and the. 
 grave, and there gives him a glimpfe of 
 7
 
 OF DEVOTION. 507 
 
 the glorious confequences of his endea- 
 vours, to think and to act well, and to do the 
 will of his God. And muft not this make 
 virtue ever the dearer to him, the practice 
 of it conilantly eafier, and all the facrifices 
 it calls him to much more agreeable ? 
 Muft not this kindle in him an ardent zeal 
 to acquire a nearer and nearer refemblance 
 to Chrift, to imitate God, his heavenly 
 Father, and to fit himfelf 'for that future 
 life in which his faculties will be improved, 
 and his virtues exalted ? 
 
 Nothing likewife affords a furer refuge 
 to the pious againft the troubles and vexa- 
 -tions of life than devotion. In the folema 
 hours of devotion, he fees every thing in 
 quite another light, in connections totally 
 different. Then many evils ceafe to be 
 evils in his light, and are transformed hro 
 bleffings. Many a gloomy period of his 
 life then brightens up, and that which ap- 
 peared to him a rough and devious way, 
 X 2 becomes
 
 308 THE VALUH , 
 
 becomes a flraight and even path. He 
 then learns to underftand his appointment, 
 though not in its entire confiftency, yet he 
 fees and understands that it has a confiftency, 
 and that the wifeft and beft. Then he ap- 
 proaches with filial freedom to his Father 
 in heaven, opens his heart before him, cafts 
 all his cares upon him, repofes himfelf 
 entirely on the will of him, who cor.ftantly 
 wills and does the beft. In his prefence 
 he fears no evil ; under his protection he 
 dreads no danger ; his gracious and pa- 
 ternal countenance has nothing terrible and 
 revengeful in it, even when he flumblcs* 
 and falls -, he fees in it, as well as in the 
 impreffion of it, the countenance of Jefus, 
 nothing but commiferation and grace ; 
 nay, when he looks up unto him, ever. 
 death lays by its terrors ; how can it 
 tear him from the hands, from the heart 
 of his Father, whofe love he fo intimately 
 feels, and whofe love is as everlafting as 
 himfelf. 
 
 Nothing
 
 OF DEVOTION. 
 
 Nothing, in ihort, yields purer and Tub- 
 lim-er joys to the pious than devotion. 
 When fhall a man more rejoice in his ex- 
 iftcnce, when is he to give fuller fcope to 
 his joy, than when he thinks on his inti- 
 mate connection with his Creator and Fa- 
 ther, and his being prefent with him ? 
 When has he more caufc to be delighted 
 with life, and fatisfied with his lot, than 
 \vhen he is fenfible to the dignity and hap- 
 pinefs of a creature formed after the image 
 of God, of a chriftian whom a bleffed im- 
 mortality awaits ; than when the lovelieft 
 profpecls in a better world lie open to his 
 view; when he is animated by the moft 
 infallible hope of being more clofely united 
 with Jelus, and of always approaching 
 nearer to God ; when he feels what perfec- 
 tion he is capable of, and what bleflednefs 
 awaits him ? And what pleafures can be 
 more defirable or more pure than thefc, 
 which I may enjoy in the moft lonely fo- 
 Htude, and in the loweft circumflances ; 
 X 3 which
 
 3IO THEVALUB 
 
 which I may enjoy when I am abandoned 
 of ail that is without me, of all that fur. 
 rounds me, when every creature refufes 
 me its comfort, its help, its fuppprt, when 
 I am furrounded by darknefs and death ? 
 And all this I may protsife myfelf from the 
 pleafures of devotion ? on this the pious may- 
 build in fafety. It will never deny him its 
 fupport and afliftance. This fandtuary 
 fhmds always open, and never will he flee 
 to it in vain. So great, Sirs, is the value, 
 fo manifold are the advantages of devotion. 
 
 Would you now enjoy thefe benefits, 
 thefe advantages, thefe pleafures of devo- 
 tion ? it is then by no means indifferent in 
 \vhat manner you begin. A man may fa- 
 cilitate the bufinefs ; and he may likewife 
 render it difficult. Herein his own expe- 
 rience will be the beft inflructor. We 
 may, however, preferve you from many 
 miftakps and omifjions ; we may afford you 
 foaie aiHihaces ; we may call your atten- 
 tion
 
 OF DEVOTION. 311 
 
 tion to the beft way of treating the .matter. 
 And to this end, I fhould hope, the fol- 
 lowing reflections and rules will be of con- 
 fiderable fervice to you. 
 
 The devotion which is to procure us 
 pleafure and joy mud, in the firft place, 
 be founded on a right knowledge, on juft 
 conceptions of God. If thou art weak and 
 unhappy enough, O mortal, to imagine 
 God to be a fullen being, unconnected 
 wiih the world and his creatures, who has 
 once given them certain powers, prefcribed 
 them certain laws, affigned them a certain 
 place in the territory of his wide domain, 
 and then ftands in no farther connection 
 with them, has no influence upon them, 
 and no concern about them ; or, if 
 thou thinkeft God to be only Almighty, 
 high above all as their Creator and Lord, 
 Lefore whom all worlds and all mankind 
 are nothing, and whofe power no creature 
 is able to refilt ; -or, if thou conceiveft 
 X 4 him
 
 312 THE VALUE 
 
 him to be a fevere, inexorable, unforgiv- 
 ing Being, who holds every fin to be an 
 infinite affront to his majefty, which can 
 never be repaired, never remitted, never 
 forgiven, xvhich he muft neceflarily punifh,, 
 and is continually ready to punilh ; as a 
 feeing that requires more of us than we are 
 able to perform, who has configned the 
 greateft part of his rational offspring to 
 everlafting perdition, and in whofe domi- 
 nion more evil than good, more rnifery 
 than happinefs prevails ; if thou makefl 
 fuch reprefentatiohs to thyfelf of thy God; 
 then certainly thy exercifes of devotion can 
 have no pleafure, no joy, for thee. The 
 thought of thy God muft terrify thee, and 
 the more deeply it is imprinted on thy ioul, 
 the longer thou dwellefl upon it, the more 
 difquietude and torment mull come upon 
 thee. Thou wilt tremble btrore God as 
 thy fovereign and judge, thou wilt feel his 
 authority over thee, and thy dependence 
 on him ; but thou canft not enjoy it. 
 
 Would'it
 
 OFfcEVOTION. 
 
 Would'ft thou do fo ? Then muft thou form 
 
 _ * 
 
 more juff, more honourable conceptions 
 of this awful Being. Thou rriuft be ac- 
 quainted with God as thy Father ; revere 
 him as love itfelf, as him who delighteth 
 in the fatisfacYions of his creatures, who 
 hath defigned them all for hnppinefs, 
 \vho governs them with mercy and com- 
 paffion ; who is rot only righteous towards 
 them, but long-fuffering, gracious, and 
 merciful, and Itadeth all to perfection that 
 are capable of it, though by various ways. 
 Thou muft know and revere him, as he is 
 publifhed to us by Jefus, as a God who 
 will not have us to fear him like Haves, 
 but to love him like children, who allows 
 us all free accefs to him ; who receives and 
 blefies us as fons, and does not treat us 
 like bondfmen j who forgives all men their 
 fins, and will remember them no more, 
 fo foon as they lament and forfake them ; 
 as a God, who cannot be better and more 
 worthily honoured than by placing our con- 
 fidence
 
 314 THE VALUE 
 
 Science in him, and by expelling real ad- 
 vantages, pure goodnefs from him. Otily 
 then, O chriftian ! when thou haft thus 
 .learnt to think of God ; and makeft thy- 
 felf confident by thefe reflections j only 
 then can he fatisfy and rejoice thy heart ; 
 only then will every elevation of thy foul, 
 every exercife of devotion be a comfort 
 and a happinefs to thee ! 
 
 Would wej farther, enjoy frequently 
 the advantages and pleafures of devotion, 
 and enjoy them in a higher degree ; then 
 mud religion and virtue be the conftant 
 companions and guides of our life. They 
 inuft animate us at all times, in all places, 
 in all our bufinefles and in all our pleafures. 
 They muft never totally ceafe from acting 
 upon us. The pious man fets the Lord 
 always before him. The thoughts of God 
 are neither flrange to him> nor at a diflancc 
 from him. He hath fo interwoven them 
 with the whole texture of his mind, and in 
 
 fuch
 
 OF DEVOTION. 
 
 fuch various ways, that every thing re-^ 
 minds him of his heavenly Father, every 
 thing calls him to him, fo that thefe re- 
 flections dart a living light around his foul, 
 and render thofe things habitually im- 
 portant to him wherein mankind in ge- 
 neral lee not the leail occafion of con- 
 cern ; where they will pronounce him a 
 fool for taking any intereft in them. Thefc 
 thoughts thus often fill him in the mo- 
 ments of facred filence, and of internal ex- 
 altation of his heart to God, amidft the 
 buille of fociety, in the bufinefs of his vo- 
 cation, and thereby teach him to enjoy fo- 
 cial pleafures with more chearfulnefs and 
 innoccncy, and to fulfill more faithfully 
 the duties of focial life. Thus often does 
 he feel the intimate prefence of his God, 
 comprehend diftinftly the language of his 
 wifdom and goodnels in every plant, in 
 every tree, in every animal, in every re- 
 gion, in the dawning of the morn, in the 
 itiinmcr's day, in the folitary bower, by 
 
 the
 
 THE VALU r. 
 
 the brink of the placid ftream, in the av/-. 
 u) gloom of the foreft ; and there eredls 
 altars to the God whom h- has not feen, 
 but has intenfely thought of and fenfibly 
 felt, monuments in his heart which in a 
 thovifand fimilar circnmftances, fimilar re- 
 flections, and fenfations, he raiies within. 
 |-!e fees and hears, ?,s it were, his Maker, 
 in the rufhing of the torrent, in the howl- 
 ing of the winds, in the murmurs of the 
 breeze, in the approach of the ftormy 
 cloud, in the flalh of the vivid lightning, 
 and the majeilic founds of thunder, in the 
 mild refrelhingfhower, and in the more co- 
 pious falls of rain ! He fees and hears him 
 with flill greater 1 energy in mankind, his 
 image, when he difcovers truth, and good- 
 hefs, and benevolence, generous fcntimcnts, 
 and cordial love in the features, the looks, 
 the difcourfes, the notions of his brethren. 
 ^ And thus never is God far from him. 
 He leeks and he finds him, and enjoys his 
 prefencc, be he where he may, bufied 
 
 how
 
 OF DEVOTION. 
 
 how he will, alone or in company, fur- 
 rounded by animate or inanimate creatures. 
 He exifts and lives, and moves in God. 
 And, \vhen he colleds his fcattered 
 thoughts, and directs his whole attention 
 to him whom his foul loveth, and whole 
 favour is its life, and can do this without 
 interruption from external things, how 
 blefled muft thefe hours, thefe moments 
 be ! how much muft thefe meditations ex- 
 pand and warm his heart ! what lofty 
 flights his fpirit takes ! what lively fenfa- 
 tions aft upon his frame ! how nearly it 
 brings him to the prime fource of light 
 and felicity ! 
 
 Would'ft thcu therefore underftand, and 
 learn to enjoy the pleafures of devotion, O 
 thou whocomplaineft of the want of them; 
 then make the thoughts of God familiar 
 ro thee. Send him not away when he pre- 
 fents himfelf to thy fpirit ; he can accom- 
 ts himfelf with all thy other thoughts, 
 
 thy
 
 318 TH E VALUE 
 
 thy fentiments, thy employments, and thy 
 pleafures, if they be but moderate and in- 
 nocent. Solace thyfelf much rather in 
 thefe meditations ; cherifh. and fuppott 
 them as often as thou can ft ; imprint them 
 deeply on thine heart, if thou wonld'ft en- 
 joy them by recollection, even when they 
 are pad. Do fo likewife with every thing 
 that relates to religion, with every dodtrine, 
 every command, every promife, and every 
 example of chriftianity. Do fo particu- 
 larly with the reflections on Jefus, our Savi- 
 our and leader, the fimilitude and the vice- 
 gerent of God, our Lord, and our King. 
 Let his image, the image of his wifciom, 
 his ferene and exalted devotion, his gt nerous 
 philanthropy, his noble fentiments and 
 kind behaviour, be frequently before thine 
 'eyes, be often prefent, and, as it were, 
 vifible to thee. Make thyfelf constantly 
 more and more familiar with thefe thoughts 
 and fenfations ; bind them ftill clofer and 
 clofer with all that thou thinkeft and feeleft 
 
 bcfides,
 
 OF DEVOTION. 319 
 
 befides, with whatever is in any way im- 
 portant to thce. Thus, when thou uruler- 
 takeft any peculiar exercife of devotion, 
 thou wilt undertake no bufmefs that is fo- 
 reign to thee ; thou wilt not be going into un- 
 known regions, but entering thy own pof- 
 feffions ; perfevere in that which at firfl thou 
 canft only endure for a moment, and enjoy 
 that pleafure in a greater degree, in com- 
 pleter freedom, which may fweeten every 
 day of thy life, but which now enhances 
 the value of only fome inftants of it. 
 
 Would you, in the third place, enjoy 
 the advantages and the pleafures of piety, 
 and not be deceived in your expectations, 
 then do not defire to enjoy them always 
 in the fame degree. By fo doing, you 
 would endeavour after what is impoffible, 
 what is contrary to the nature of man, and 
 of devotion itfelf, and thus your hopes 
 would often fail you. Ourcomprehenfions 
 even of the moil important matters, can- 
 
 aoc
 
 320 THE VALUE 
 
 not always poffefs the fame degree of pre> 
 cifion ; our fenfations cannot at all times 
 have the fame degree of vivacity and force. 
 Light and heat have their various changes, 
 their alternate revolutions in the moral as 
 well as in the natural world, and in every 
 particular perfon, as in human fociety at 
 large. So when we direct our thoughts to 
 God and jeligion, to the mod important 
 and moil exalted objects, how much de- 
 pends on the temperament at that particular 
 time, on our outward circumftances, on 
 -the affairs we have been purfuing, on the 
 perfons we have feen and converged with, 
 on the books we have read, or are then 
 employed in reading ! How different are 
 even the doctrines of religion which we 
 make the fubject of our meditations or our 
 pious exercifes ! how various are the fides 
 on which we may behold them ! and how 
 different therefore the impreffions they muft 
 make upon us ! all of them cannot move 
 us alike, all of them cannot charm us ; 
 s all
 
 OF DEVOTION. $21 
 
 all of them cannot draw'forth the tears of 
 grief, of tendernefs, or joy. One while 
 our underftanding is moft employed ; at 
 another, our heart ; and fometimes both 
 at once. Now, the fenument of our tranf- 
 greffions and failings bows us down to the 
 abyfs, pierces us with fhame and remorfe : 
 at another time, we as fincerely confefs, 
 and abhor, and condemn them, but with- 
 out the fame painful fenfttion. Now, the 
 thoughts of God, of his majefty and 
 greatnefs, fb fully poflefs us, make all 
 the conceptions and fentiments that be- 
 long thereto at once fo predominant and 
 active, fets all that is connected with it 
 in our whole fyftem of thought and len- 
 timent fo much in motion, that we are to- 
 tally loft in aftonilhrnent and adoration : 
 at another time lefs copious rays from the 
 fplendor of the glory of God flream about 
 our -eyes, we conlider them with more 
 compofure, diftiilguifti them with greater 
 VOL. I. Y facility
 
 222 THE VALUE 
 
 / 
 
 facility and clearnefs; and this, though 
 not with tranfporting, yet with pure and 
 veal joy. One while we are more difpofed 
 to refledt on the dodtrines of religion with 
 a tranquil fpirit, to rectify our conceptions 
 of them, to penetrate deeper into their 
 principles and connections, and then com- 
 monly experience no vehement fenfations : 
 at another, we make a more immediate 
 ufe of thefe doctrines, apply them diredtly 
 to our quiet, to our comfort, or our en- 
 couragement, confider and treat them fo, 
 as if they were promulgated merely for us, 
 and were only to be applied to the prefent 
 event; and thereby tafte and enjoy their 
 Iweetnefs and efficacy the more, and are 
 warmed and cheared by livelier fentiments. 
 But are not the one fort as profitable and 
 as neceffary as the other ? Can we ever 
 jreprefent to ourfclves clearly and plainly 
 what is true and good ? can we ever prove it 
 with reflection and fentiment ? can we ever 
 think on God and his preience with a quiet 
 
 mi ad,
 
 OF DEVOTION. $23 
 
 , or feel it more intimately, without 
 Ipeing .the better, the more tranquil, and 
 the more happy for it ? or does pleafure 
 ceafe to deferve that name becaufe it does 
 not produce t ran fports in us? Is ferenity 
 and peace not a pleafant anddefirable ftate, 
 becaufe it does not break out in the rap- 
 tures of joy? And if our exercifes of de- 
 votion are at times unfruitful, and neither 
 our mind nor our heart are ftrongly and 
 extraordinarily interefled in them, will 
 they not Hill always be good and profitable, 
 to us, for the renewal of certain important, 
 fhlutary reprefentations, principles, and 
 conclufions, and for rendering us thereby 
 lefs unmindful of them t 
 
 This will happen to you at times, how- 
 ever fincerely you may wifh to glow with 
 the ardours of devotion, to enjoy the fub- 
 Vimeft plcafures of it ; how much foever 
 you may have actually enjoyed 'them z.t 
 other times. Then torment not yourfelres 
 Y 2 ar
 
 324 
 
 THE V AL 
 
 at this cafuai want of it-, think it nota cri- 
 minal hardnefs of your heart ; let it not . 
 lender you dilmayed or dejected. The 
 very difquietude it caufcs you, the un- 
 eafinefs you difcover about it, are evident 
 teftimonies that this kind of unfeelingnefs, 
 or of lefs acute fenfibility, is no confe- 
 quence of your faulty behaviour, but the 
 effect of outward accidental caufes, or of 
 the infirmity and limited powers or" human 
 nature. Therefore, expedt not of devo- 
 tion more than it promifes. It promifes 
 you advantage, pleafure, and joy ; but not 
 always the moft evident advantage, the 
 moft fertile enjoyment; not always the 
 moft lively pleafuf e ; not always a tranf- 
 . porting joy. As various as the natural 
 difpofitions, capacities, and abilities, the 
 conftitution- and temper, and the outward 
 circumftanccs of the pious are ; fo dif- 
 ferent likewife are, not the effentjals of 
 piety, but the force and degree of its eft 
 fedb upon them. 
 
 This
 
 OF DEVOTION. 325 
 
 This leads me to a fourth confederation, 
 which is neither lefs true nor of lefs im- 
 portance. It is this : variation, relaxation, 
 and freedom, contribute much to the ad- 
 vancement of devotion. We mufl not 
 flavifhly bind ourfelves to any prefcrip- 
 tions ; be fcrupulous followers of any pat- 
 tern ; burden ourfelves with any unnecef- 
 fary injunctions; not require that the 
 thoughts and fentiments fhould follow each 
 "other in a certain predetermined order, not 
 with a fixed folicitude, or with a miftaken 
 confcientioufnefs, determine to undertake 
 and to do firfl this, and next that part of de- 
 votion, and not depart from it till we have 
 reached our aim, and compleated our de- 
 ijgn, or are forced to leave off by languor 
 and fatigue. No, every human intellect 
 has its own courfe, its own train of thought; 
 no other human intellect can ferve it al- 
 towether for director and guide. And even 
 
 C> O 
 
 the courfe our fpirit purfues of its own 
 election, is not always the fame. Atone 
 
 tim
 
 526 f H E V A L'U E 
 
 time it is more difpofed to one way, and 
 then to another, of employing its powers : 
 EOW more inclined to r.efiedtiqn and invcf- 
 tigation, then more to contemplation and 
 fcndmcnt now fqme religious doctrines, 
 views, difpofitipns, or hopes, are of moil 
 importance, and then others : at one time 
 it can more readily embrace a number of 
 objects at once, than at another ; at one 
 time can take a loftier flight above vifible 
 things than it can at another. 
 
 The pious man has a wide field before 
 him, no lefs delightful than fertile. In 
 which are a hundred pieafurable paths that 
 invite his fteps, of unnumbered beauties 
 that he may contemplate, of various fruits 
 that he may enjoy. He cannot puriue, en- 
 joy, or profit .by them all at once, nor all 
 indifcriminatcly at every time. One while 
 his eye furveys one beautiful profpeft, and 
 then another : now the enjoyment of one foit 
 of pleafant fruit refrefhes and ilrcngthens 
 3 him,
 
 OF 'DEVOTION. 327 
 
 him, at another time another. The pious 
 man betakes himfelf to retirement. Here 
 he may prefer various exercifes of religion. 
 He can employ himfelf in reading, or in 
 meditation, or in both of them at once : 
 he can dwell more on his pad conduct than 
 on, his prefsnt. condition. He can yield 
 more to his aftonifhment at the divine ma- 
 jefty, or to fentiments of the goodnefs and 
 bounties of his God ; indulge himfelf more 
 in adoration and praife, or in thankfgiv- 
 ing ; more in laying open his own wifhes 
 and views with filial freedom, or employ 
 himfelf in affectionate petitions for his bre- 
 thren : can exalt himfelf more in fpirit to 
 the invifible God, or hold converfe with 
 his Son and melTenger to the human rice, 
 Jefus, our Lord and King : can difpofe 
 himfelf more to exercifes of repentance, 
 or faith, or love. The pious man cannot 
 perform them all at once. To do them all 
 in fucccffion, in a certain appointed feries, 
 is a fort of violence that is at variance both 
 
 with
 
 328 THE VAtUE 
 
 with the nature of man and the nature of 
 devotion. He therefore does that to which 
 his heart, or the fentiment of any parti- 
 cular want, or a particular occafion, in- 
 duces and impels himj he likewife quickly 
 paffes from one to another ; by no means 
 endeavour to force any fentiment ; but ra- 
 ther gives free fcope to his honed afpira- 
 tions and thoughts ; and at all times en- 
 joys that pleafure which follicits him, and 
 in the plan which it prefcribes ; and thus 
 the pleafure of devotion ever retains its 
 value, receives new charms, multiplies to 
 infinity, and never allows enjoyment to 
 turn into difguft. 
 
 Let fuch of you as are defirous of expe- 
 riencing this, obferve the rules I have now 
 delivered. Learn to formjuft and worthy 
 reprefentations of God, and your beha- 
 viour towards him ; learn to know and to 
 revere him as love itfelf ; render thcfe- 
 reflections familiar to you ; let them con- 
 tinually
 
 OF DEVOTION. 337 
 
 tinually be prefent with you ; bind them 
 conftantly clofer and clofer with what- 
 ever you fee and hear, whatever you 
 think and do, whatever you fuffer and en- 
 joy. Alpire not always to the fupreme 
 degree of fpiritual plcafure, and of pious 
 joy ; affiift not yourfelves at the imper- 
 fection, the weaknefs and limitation of 
 your faculties, which you have in com- 
 inon with all mankind, even the belt of 
 men ; lay no unneceffary reftraint upon 
 yourfelves ; introduce a greater variety into 
 your exercifes of devotion ; and avail your- 
 felves therein of every kind of chriftian- 
 freedom ; fo will devotion moil certainly 
 be. to you what it is to all its adherents and 
 friends ; the noblcft application of our 
 higher faculties ; the firmeft ground of 
 ferenity of mind and a virtuous conduct ; 
 the ftrcngth and nourifhmcnt of our fpirit; 
 the joy of our folitary hours, and our com- 
 fort in all our forrows ; the immediate 
 VOL, I. / anc j
 
 338 THE VALUE, c\C. 
 
 and moft delightful means of commun 
 with God and with his fon Jefus ; 
 neareft way, the beft preparative, for hig 
 perfection ; the ftveetefl foretafte of 
 better and happier life hereafter ! T 
 is the true chriflian devotion ; an'd, if 01 
 you poffefs it, it will be conftantly beco 
 ing, from day to day, more complete. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 A 000136448 8
 
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