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 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE, 
 New-Street-Square.
 
 XAM 3BI(0)WILBT. IQJ.IB).
 
 SUNDAY LIBRARY; 
 
 THE PROTESTANT'S MANUAL FOR THE 
 SABBATH-DAY : 
 
 BEING A SELECTION OP 
 
 SERMONS FROM EMINENT DIVINES 
 
 OF 
 
 i&ty Cjwrcl) of nslanfc, 
 
 CHIEFLY WITHIN THE LAST HALF CENTURY ; 
 
 WITH OCCASIONAL BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES AND 
 NOTES. 
 
 BY THE REV. T. P. DIBD1N, D.D. 
 
 R.KCTOK OP ST. MARY'S, BRYANSTON SQUARE ; AND CHATLAIM 
 IN ORUINAIiY TO HIS MAJESTY. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOB 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN, 
 
 PATEHNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1835.
 
 HONOUR ALL MEN: LOVE THE BROTHERHOOD: FEAR COD: 
 HONOUR THE KING. 
 
 1 Tot. ii. 17.
 
 SOITR FRONT OF LAMBETH PALACE. 
 
 HIS GRACE 
 THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. 
 
 MY LORD, 
 
 I HAVE ventured, without the per- 
 mission of your Grace, to dedicate this work to 
 YOURSELF. Such a dedication would seem to 
 imply a pledge that the doctrines which it im- 
 parts are worthy of the best principles of our 
 A 3
 
 VI 
 
 Church, and illustrative of the most vital in- 
 terests of our Religion. The established repu- 
 tation of those Authors, from whose works the 
 present selection is made, can scarcely fail to 
 assure the unprejudiced reader that such will 
 be the probable issue. Under this impression, 
 which induces a well-grounded hope of ob- 
 taining your Grace's sanction, I hasten to sub- 
 scribe myself, with much truth, 
 
 Your Grace's obedient 
 
 and faithful humble Servant, 
 T. F. DIBDIN. 
 
 December 14. 1830.
 
 ADDRESS. 
 
 AT a moment when knowledge of almost every 
 description, in a form at once pleasing and 
 cheap, is made familiar to the understandings 
 of all classes of society, it will not appear to 
 be an improper diversion of such channels of 
 useful intelligence, if they are made instru- 
 mental to the propagation of MORAL AND RE- 
 LIGIOUS TRUTHS. Accordingly, the proprietors 
 of this work are induced to present the public, 
 at reasonable intervals, with a Manual of Re- 
 ligious Edification, more especially adapted for 
 the LORD'S DAY ; as containing the sentiments 
 of many of the more eminent Divines of the 
 Church of England in the Discourses delivered 
 from their pulpits.
 
 For the purposes of domestic instruction in 
 the truths of religion, especially among the YOUTH 
 of both sexes, it is presumed that few sub- 
 stitutes will be found more effectual than that 
 now proposed. Each volume will contain a 
 suitable variety both of subjects and of authors ; 
 while the long-established reputation of those 
 Divines, living and deceased, whose discourses 
 find a place within the pages of this work, can- 
 not fail to insure to the public the dissemination 
 of edifying and ORTHODOX doctrines. 
 
 It is very probable that some learned and 
 pious readers might wish for the introduction 
 of a few more authors, and a few other topics ; 
 but it must be remembered that the plan of 
 the entire work can scarcely be developed in 
 the first volume. Many important subjects of 
 Doctrine will necessarily find a place in those 
 which follow. The leading events of the LIFE 
 OF CHRIST cannot also fail to have a large 
 share in them. In the mean time, the topics 
 here disclosed may be said to lay a solid found- 
 ation for those which are about to be super- 
 added ; and till the whole scope of the work 
 appear in a more intelligible form, the task
 
 IX 
 
 of criticism must be necessarily imperfectly ex- 
 ercised. 
 
 At all events, let it be especially impressed 
 upon the minds of Christians, of EVERY per- 
 suasion, that at NO moment can a work, similar 
 to the present, have stronger claims upon their 
 attention and support, than at this precise period, 
 when the elements of civil society seem to be 
 agitated in a variety of directions, and when a 
 sound and sober exposition of Scriptural Truths 
 may essentially contribute to the support of the 
 best interests of the COUNTRY.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE SUNDAY LIBRARY will, it is presumed, be 
 found to contain a series of Discourses, which may 
 not only be applicable to " all sorts and condi- 
 tions of men," but which, in the multiplied wants 
 and necessities of such conditions, may also be 
 serviceable to the administering of " patience under 
 suffering," cheerfulness under despondency, and 
 strength and courage of heart under the severest 
 dispensations of Providence. At the same time, 
 in a course of life where events are of an even 
 and prosperous tenour, it is not less confidently 
 hoped that these Discourses may teach the Chris- 
 tian moderation in prosperity, and gratitude to 
 THE GIVER of all good gifts, as a primary and 
 indispensable duty. Above all things, and in 
 every vicissitude of existence, may they impress 
 upon him the conviction, that, as he is a frail 
 and dependent creature, it is not less his duty to
 
 Xll PREFACE. 
 
 show " good-will towards men," than submission 
 and thankfulness towards his Maker. In all the 
 public and private relations of life, an adherence 
 to the maxims which these Sermons disclose, or to 
 the truths which they unfold and inculcate, will be 
 found essentially serviceable to the enquiring and 
 unsophisticated mind of a Christian. They will 
 teach him, in good earnest, to " HONOUR ALL MEN : 
 
 tO LOVE THE BROTHERHOOD ; to FEAR GoD ; and 
 HONOUR THE KlNG." 
 
 In matters of what may be considered of equally 
 vital importance, in matters connected with Re- 
 ligious Principles and Points of Faith, the Editor 
 cannot but anticipate a like favourable result. He 
 has been desirous, from the beginning to the end of 
 this Body of Sermons, to avoid all fanciful hypo- 
 theses, all forced constructions, and all bewildering 
 explanations. To uphold and to disseminate " the 
 TRUTH as it is in CHRIST JESUS," appeared to 
 him to be best accomplished by bringing to bear 
 upon that momentous subject much that had been 
 urged by Divines of the Church of England, not less 
 remarkable for a spirit of dispassionate enquiry, than 
 for deep learning and sound ratiocination. It is 
 hardly necessary for him to add, that in thepages of this 
 Work will be found specimens of eloquence and per- 
 suasion abundantly confirmative of this remark. To
 
 PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 cheer, rather than to depress, to compose, rather 
 than to distract, to beat down presumption, and to 
 root out vanity, to unmask hypocrisy, and to make 
 the hardened sinner tremble as he feels the up- 
 braidings of his own heart, these are among the 
 objects sought to be effected by a steady perusal of 
 the contents of these Volumes. While all approach 
 to harshness of controversy* is studiously avoided, 
 the great leading features of the CHRISTIAN RE- 
 DEMPTION are duly and zealously displayed. The 
 inefficacy of human merit, bereft of Faith in the 
 Atonement, is not less inculcated, than the danger 
 of a torpid faith which moveth not to good works. 
 
 It is true that, in the Selection here submitted 
 to the consideration of the Public, some very few 
 of these Sermons j- have been taken from the 
 Writings of Divines not of "the established Church:" 
 but the matter of them must be their own passport, 
 their own letter of recommendation to the 
 Reader's approbation. 
 
 The Editor might, indeed, avail himself of an au- 
 thority of no mean weight, by observing, that he did 
 
 * The only Sermons which approximate to controversy are, 
 that of Archbishop Lawrence upon Predestination, and that of 
 Mr. Irvine on the Millennium. See Vol. II. p. 309. Vol.V- 
 p. 199. 
 
 t Two from Dr. CHALMERS, and one from the late ROBERT 
 HALL. See VoL V. 65112. 137., &c.
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 " not so much consider the quarter from whence the 
 matter was taken, but whether it was good, and 
 suited to his purpose ; it being a circumstance of 
 indifference to him whether it was of Paul, or 
 Apollos, or Cephas, provided it was of CHRIST*," 
 still, it would be no difficult matter to bring himself 
 to the persuasion that, in the Divines of his own 
 Church, all that is essential to HUMAN SALVATION 
 were not amply and powerfully developed. It has 
 been therefore, rather to gratify a variety of literary 
 tastes, than from a conviction of the absolute neces- 
 sity of introducing the few Sermons here alluded to, 
 that such a plan has been adopted. 
 
 A few words may now be submitted upon another 
 topic. It was supposed, on starting with this plan, 
 that the Editor had made it too limited, by con- 
 fining the " Selection" to divines " chiefly within 
 the last half century -f-;" but repeated reflection, now 
 supported by the experience of its success, has 
 confirmed him in its propriety. For judgment 
 in the selection he is, therefore, exclusively respons- 
 ible : and he cannot dissemble the conviction which 
 operates in his own mind, that, whoever is disposed 
 
 * BISHOP WATSON. Preface to his Collection of Theological 
 Tracts. 
 
 f The only (two) Divines who may be said to be a little 
 beyond the strict boundary of this plan, are ARCHBISHOP 
 BISHOP NEWTON. See Vols. V. and VI.
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 to cast a careful eye over the names of those au- 
 thors from whom this selection has been made, 
 will find abundant encouragement to peruse the 
 specimens subjoined of their ability and zeal, if not 
 to cultivate a further acquaintance with their works. 
 Nor can it be denied that whoever carefully examines 
 the contents of these Volumes, must admit that, 
 within a small compass, and at a very reasonable 
 cost, here is a PORTABLE LIBRARY of Divinity (as 
 it respects Sermons), which may be conveniently 
 carried from place to place, distant or near, 
 capable, in all places and in all seasons, alike, of 
 affording instruction and consolation. To have un- 
 necessarily extended this Selection, would not only 
 perhaps have been adding to what may be con- 
 sidered the growing evil of the day an interminable 
 publication but would, in fact, have answered 
 no essential object whatever. Such as these volumes 
 are, they will be found in all respects to have ac- 
 complished the end for which they have been chosen. 
 Another consideration, of no secondary import- 
 ance, has also had its weight with the Editor. While 
 he has felt a conviction that the sermons of Barrow, 
 South, Tillotson, Atterbury, Seed, Sherlock, Jortin, 
 and many others, are already before the public in 
 numerous forms and, moreover, that the spirit and 
 style of the greater part of these Sermons may be
 
 XVI PREFACE. 
 
 said not to be in exact conformity with the tastes 
 of the majority of hearers of the present day (for 
 it should seem that there is a fashion in Pulpit 
 Divinity, as in every thing else) while the Editor 
 has been influenced (justly or not) by a reflection 
 of this nature he has been also influenced by one 
 which he deems to be of a higher cast of character. 
 He has been urged to make this selection, as the 
 Reader has it before his eyes, from a conviction 
 that modern days are not exempt from the display 
 of GREAT TALENTS in almost every department of 
 clerical labour ; and that, if our present Sermons are 
 less learned, less elaborate, less divided and sub- 
 divided into various branches of enquiry, they are 
 eminently distinguished for strength, compactness, 
 and perspicuity of style, with earnestness and even 
 eloquence of persuasion. There is also, generally 
 speaking, more unction more spiritual consolation 
 in the majority of them. 
 
 If, on the one hand, there be nothing in the range 
 of modern divinity, as it respects Sermons, com- 
 parable with the magnificent imagery and prodigal 
 copiousness of Jeremy Taylor, or with the acute 
 reasoning and energetic diction of Barrow, or with 
 the solid learning and masculine vigour of Sherlock ; 
 so, on the other hand, may we challenge the " olden 
 school" to produce compositions more sweet, more
 
 PREFACE. XVll 
 
 winning and instructive, than those of HORNE and 
 PORTEUS ; or more luminous and convincing than 
 those of HORSLEY and PA LEY. And if a spirit of 
 meekness, and of almost apostolic primitiveness of 
 character, added to deep learning and harmonious 
 style, be sought for, who, in times gone by, shall we 
 place above the late gentle and lamented HEBER ? 
 It were bad taste, perhaps, to eulogise the living ; but 
 the Editor is much deceived, if, in the pages of this 
 " Selection," there be not found specimens of sound 
 scriptural analysis, accurate reasoning, aiid powerful 
 declamation, which yield to no productions of a 
 similar nature that have preceded them. The Editor 
 takes leave of the " gentle Reader" in the language 
 of one of the brightest ornaments of the English 
 Bench * : " I shall only crave leave that I may 
 " remember Jerusalem, and call to mind the pleasures 
 " of the temple, the order of her services, the beauty 
 " of her buildings, the sweetness of her songs, the 
 " decency of her ministrations, the assiduity and 
 " economy of her Priests and Levites, the daily 
 " sacrifice, and that eternal fire of devotion that 
 " went not out by day nor by night. These were 
 
 * JEREMY TAYLOR, Collection of Offices or Forms of Prayer, 
 <c. 1658. 8vo. Preface. The Author is speaking of the 
 excellence of the LITURGY or THE CHURCH or ENGLAND. 
 
 VOL. i. a
 
 XV1H PREFACE. 
 
 " the pleasures of our peace ; and there is a rema- 
 " nent felicity in the very memory of those spiritual 
 " delights which we then enjoyed as antepasts of 
 " heaven, and consignations to an immortality of 
 " joys." 
 
 %* It may be essential to state that, in the 
 prefix to the first volume, some mention was made 
 of incorporating several events in the LIFE OF 
 CHRIST in the course of these Sermons. If few or 
 none of these events are found in them, it arises, 
 as will be immediately seen, from the Editor's in- 
 tention of writing a LIFE OF OUR BLESSED SA- 
 VIOUR, as the first of a series of volumes (being 
 a COMPANION to the present Work) under the de- 
 nomination or title of " CHRISTIAN CLASSICS."
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 Introductory Remarks 1 
 
 Christ's Sermon on the Mount BP.PORTEUS 8 
 
 concluded 32 
 
 Choice of a Religion BF. BLOMFIELD 57 
 
 Taste for Devotion PALET 77 
 
 Seriousness in Religion PALET 93 
 
 On Prayer ...t Bp. BLOMFIELD 117 
 
 The Fear of God C. WEBB LE BAS ... 1S7 
 
 The Love of God C.WEBB LE BAS ... 154 
 
 On the Redemption of Time Bp. HORNE 173 
 
 Life a Journey BF. HORNE 189 
 
 Observance of the Sabbath BP. HORSLEY 207 
 
 concluded ..; 222 
 
 Pride contrasted with Humility ... BP. MANT 245 
 
 On Spiritual Pride BP. MANT 261 
 
 Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil 
 
 P. N. SHUTTLE WORTH 273 
 Christ's yoke easy, and burden light 
 
 P. N. SHUTTLEWORTH 300 
 
 The Existence of Difficulties in the Scriptures not incom- 
 patible with their object as a religiously instructive Work 
 
 C.BENSON 325 
 
 Anniversary Sermon for the Sons of the Clergy 
 
 Bp. HORSLET 350
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 IN the selection of such sermons as may help to pro- 
 mote the best interests of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION, it 
 cannot be matter of surprise that the incomparable 
 SERMON ON THE MOUNT, by the blessed author of that 
 religion, should stand foremost in the list. The eulo- 
 gies bestowed upon that discourse may be said to be 
 without limits and without number. To particularise 
 them were unnecessary. From the days of the Fathers 
 of the church, to the more recent effusions of modern 
 divines *, the strain of panegyric has been uniformly 
 warm and consistent. But among 'those who have 
 predicated upon the leading features of its excellence 
 at least among those whose labours have come under 
 my own observation none have accomplished this task 
 with more skill and effect than the eminent prelate 
 from whose justly popular " Lectures" the ensuing 
 two discourses are selected. The earnest attention of 
 the reader is requested to such an admirable illustration 
 of the incomparable original. 
 
 A preliminary observation or two may not, however, 
 be unacceptable. Our blessed Lord, having afforded 
 unequivocal proofs of his divine mission by his baptism 
 and resistance to temptation, proceeds at once to the 
 fulfilment of his appointed ministry ; and the first step 
 towards its successful execution is, the reformation of the 
 lives of human beings by the amendment, or rather by 
 the reconstruction, of the whole code of their morals. 
 
 * " Think, I would beseech you, upon the Sermon on the Mount W 
 there have words that were spoken with authority ; words, such as nevef 
 man spake ; words, that ccme home to the heart, and bring it into caj 
 livity." LE BAS, Bishop of London's Visitation Sermon, 133UL 
 VOL. I. , \ B
 
 2 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 Till these points were effectually discussed and estab- 
 lished on their proper basis, he well knew that those of 
 faith would only perplex and bewilder. His task, 
 therefore, was not less arduous than it was bold and 
 original ; but he shrunk not from its execution. " Seeing 
 the multitudes," seeing the great throng which had 
 been naturally collected to attend the steps, and witch 
 the conduct, of so extraordinary a personage, our Sa- 
 viour ascends an eminence, and addresses them through 
 his disciples, who more immediately surrounded his 
 person. " He opened his mouth, and taught them, 
 saying" all those simple, perspicuous, forcible, and 
 effective maxims for the regulation of their moral con- 
 duct which occupy the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters 
 of St. Matthew's Gospel. 
 
 The first thing discernible in these " sayings" is, their 
 originality and boldness ; and the marvellous effect 
 which the delivery of them, from so high an authority, 
 must have necessarily produced upon minds stubbornly 
 attached to, and deeply prejudiced by, Judaical rites and 
 ceremonies and principles of moral government. No- 
 thing equivocal or compromising belongs to our Saviour's 
 doctrines. In an address, remarkable for the pregnant 
 brevity of its style, the plain bold truth is fearlessly told, 
 and the hearers are left to reflect or not upon its force. 
 It was impossible for them to hear and not to reflect. 
 
 A second thing discernible in these " sayings" is, 
 the frequently utter contrariety of the doctrines con- 
 tained in them to those in which the hearers had been 
 brought up, and of which they are reminded at the 
 very commencement of their announcement. Our blessed 
 Saviour sometimes begins, " Ye have heard that it hath 
 been said by them of old time," that it was thus and 
 thus " but I say unto you "and then he proceeds to 
 tell them that they must reject what they had before 
 heard, and attend exclusively to what they were about 
 to hear, if it was their desire to benefit by his instruc-
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 3 
 
 tion : so that the firmness and fearlessness of the great 
 Teacher of Israel are equally discernible. 
 
 A third thing of which these " sayings" are emi- 
 nently characteristic, is their FORCE ; and by their force 
 I mean also to infer their SALUTARY EFFECT. The 
 sequel of their delivery is the best confirmation of this 
 remark. " And it came to pass when Jesus had ended 
 these sayings, the people were ASTONISHED at his doctrine." 
 Why were they astonished ? Because the Author of 
 them gave proofs of any thing but a slavish subserviency 
 to TRADITIONARY doctrines. He taught " as one having 
 authority, and not as the scribes." But had his 
 " sayings" been marked by nothing more than their 
 opposition to established rules of morality, this asto- 
 nishment might have been of a very qualified descrip- 
 tion, and even terminated in disgust. It was clearly, 
 therefore, the purity and the truth of these doctrines, 
 as well as their novelty and force, which gave them so 
 ready an admission into the HEARTS of their hearers. 
 Happy the Christian who allows the same salutary 
 effect to reach and to meliorate his own heart. Upon 
 such a foundation, FAITH, HOPE, and CHARITY can 
 scarcely fail to be substantially built, and to bring forth 
 their proper fruits. 
 
 B L l
 
 BEILBY PORTEUS, 
 
 BISHOP OP LONDON. 
 
 BEILBY PORTEUS, bishop of London, was the eighteenth 
 child of parents who were natives of Virginia; but who, in 
 order to give their children the advantages of a better edu- 
 cation, established themselves in this country. The bishop 
 was educated at York and at Ripon ; and became a sizar of 
 Christ's college, Cambridge. His first claim to public notice 
 and applause was the obtaining of the Seatonian prize (an 
 English poem), on the subject of " Death." In this poem 
 the author gave proofs of very rare poetical attainments ; and it 
 may be questioned whether the conclusion of it has been ever 
 surpassed in the same department of prize poetry. Certain it 
 is, that, in the bishop's subsequent compositions (which, how- 
 ever, were entirely in prose,) there are scarcely any traits of that 
 intensity of feeling and felicity of expression (by which true 
 poetry must be ever distinguished), which characterise the poem 
 in question. The ordinary style of the bishop was neat and 
 polished: rarely copious and eloquent. In 1767 doctor 
 Porteus became rector of Lambeth. In 1769 he was made 
 chaplain to his majesty, and master of the hospital of St. Cross, 
 near Winchester. In 1776 he was promoted to the bishopric 
 of Chester; and in 1787, on the death of doctor Lowth, he 
 was recommended by Mr. Pitt (then prime minister) to the 
 Bishopric of London. He filled and adorned that eminent 
 station the last twenty-two years of his life; dying in 1809, in 
 the seventy-eighth year of his age. 
 
 If popularity be estimated by success as a preacher, Bishop 
 
 Porteus was among the most popular of bishops who ever 
 
 filled the see of the metropolis. To a person slender, and 
 
 scarcely above the mean stature, he added a physiognomy of 
 
 B A
 
 6 BEILBY PORTEUS, 
 
 no small power of expression; arising from a delicacy of 
 features, indicative of intellectual cultivation, and charac- 
 teristic quiet and sedateness. His eye was blue and trans- 
 parent j and his whole countenance, during the delivery of his 
 discourse, was usually animated and interesting ; never, how- 
 ever, agitated from great excess of feeling, or vehemence of 
 gesture. His voice was perhaps one of the principal causes of 
 the general admiration which attended his preaching. It was 
 not of great compass, but it had, what musicians call, a texture, 
 or tone of sweetness, accompanied by an unusual distinctness 
 of enunciation. Large and lofty as was the parish church 
 (St. James) in which his memorable " Lectures " were deli- 
 vered, there was scarcely an auditor within it, however remotely 
 situated, arid possessed of the ordinary capacity of hearing, 
 who did not catch the sounds as they fell from his lips. It is 
 chiefly by these LECTURES that their author's fame will descend 
 to posterity. To the divine, his Charges, Discourses, and Evi- 
 dences, may probably afford tests of a more discriminating 
 judgment, and of a more varied erudition : but if that earthly 
 fame be, as it ought to be, the most to be desired which arises 
 from the quantity of GOOD produced, the Lectures of Bishop 
 Porteus have obtained a reputation which can yield to none 
 built on a similar basis. 
 
 The Times were singularly adapted to the right reception 
 of the important truths conveyed in these Lectures. They were 
 awfully critical. The French revolution was still in a state 
 of considerable fermentation ; and the leaven of atheism, by 
 which that immense mass of popular effervescence was at 
 times fearfully agitated, had extended in part to our own 
 shores. The truths of religion began to be, in consequence, 
 both doubted and scoffed at ; and as the metropolis of the 
 empire is the usual focus in which the greater quantity of 
 good or evil is concentrated, it was an undertaking of equal 
 wisdom and magnitude, in the Bishop, to make an effort that the 
 former should greatly preponderate over the latter. Under 
 this impression, these LECTURES were preached on Friday during 
 the Lent of four successive years. " It pleased God (says the
 
 BISHOP OF LONDON. 7 
 
 Bishop in his preface) to bless the attempt with a degree of 
 success far beyond any thing I could have expected or ima- 
 gined." It should seem, that some " who came to scoff, 
 remained to pray:" for, adds the Bishop, "I have been 
 assured that several, even of those amongst my audience that 
 disbelieved or doubted the truth of Christianity, were im- 
 pressed with a more favourable opinion both of its evidences 
 and doctrines, and with a higher veneration for the sacred 
 writings, than they had before entertained." At no period, 
 and under no circumstances, can these Lectures cease to interest 
 and to edify ; and the brief portion of them, here selected, as 
 explanatory of Christ's Sermon on the Mount, will, it is pre- 
 sumed, afford abundant proofs of the truth of these pre- 
 liminary remarks.
 
 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 CHRIST'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 MATTHEW V. 
 
 OUR blessed Lord having by his miracles esta- 
 blished his divine authority, and acquired of course 
 a right to the attention of his hearers, and a powerful 
 influence over their minds, proceeds in the next 
 place to explain to them in some degree the nature 
 of his religion, the duties it enjoins, and the dispo- 
 sitions it requires. This he does in what is com- 
 monly called his sermon on the mount; which is a 
 discourse of considerable length, being extended 
 through this and the two following chapters; and 
 we may venture to say it contains a greater variety 
 of new, important, and excellent moral precepts, 
 than is any where to be found in the same compass. 
 At the same time it does not pretend to give a 
 regular, complete, and perfect system of ethics, or 
 to lay down rules for the regulation of our conduct 
 in every possible instance that can arise. This 
 would have been an endless task, and would have 
 multiplied precepts to a degree that would, in a 
 great measure, have defeated their utility and 
 destroyed their effect.* Our Lord took the wiser 
 and more impressive method of tracing out to us 
 only the great outlines of our duty, of giving us 
 general principles and comprehensive rules, which 
 
 * Vide John, xxi. 25.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 9 
 
 we may ourselves apply to particular cases, and the 
 various situations in which we may be placed. 
 
 He begins with describing those dispositions and 
 virtues which mark the Christian character, in which 
 the Gospel peculiarly delights, but which the world 
 despises and rejects. 
 
 " Blessed," says he, "are the poor in spirit, for 
 theirs is the kingdom of God. 
 
 " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be 
 comforted. 
 
 " Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the 
 earth. 
 
 " Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst 
 after righteousness, for they shall be filled. 
 
 " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain 
 mercy. 
 
 " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see 
 God. 
 
 " Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be 
 called the children of God. 
 
 "Blessed are they which are persecuted for right- 
 eousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 " Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and 
 persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil 
 against you falsely for my sake; rejoice and be 
 exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven.* " 
 
 It is evident that our Lord here meant, at the 
 
 very outset of his public instructions, to mark at 
 
 once, in the strongest and most decided terms, the 
 
 peculiar temper, spirit, and character of his religion; 
 
 * Matt. v. 3 12.
 
 10 Christ's Sermon on tlie Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 and to show to his disciples how completely opposite 
 they were to all those splendid and popular qualities 
 which were the great objects of admiration and 
 applause to the heathen world, and are still too 
 much so, even to the Christian world. " There 
 are (as a very able advocate for Christianity well 
 observes*) two opposite characters under which 
 mankind may generally be classed. The one pos- 
 sesses vigour, firmness, resolution, is daring and 
 active, quick in its sensibilities, jealous of its fame, 
 eager in its attachments, inflexible in its purposes, 
 violent in its resentments. 
 
 " The other, meek, yielding, complying, forgiving ; 
 not prompt to act, but willing to suffer ; silent and 
 gentle under rudeness and insult ; suing for recon 
 ciliation where others would demand satisfaction; 
 giving way to the pushes of impudence ; conceding 
 and indulgent to the prejudices, the wrongheaded- 
 ness, the intractability of those with whom he has 
 to deal." 
 
 The former of these characters is and ever has 
 been the favourite of the world ; and though it is 
 too stern to conciliate affection, yet it has an appear- 
 ance of dignity in it which too commonly commands 
 respect. 
 
 The latter is, as our Lord describes it, humble, 
 meek, lowly, devout, merciful, pure, peaceable, 
 patient, and unresisting. The world calls it mean- 
 spirited, tame, and abject ; yet notwithstanding all 
 this, with the divine Author of our religion this is 
 * Dr. Paley, vol. ii. p. 30.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 1 1 
 
 the favourite character ; this is the constant topic 
 of his commendation; this is the subject that runs 
 through all the beatitudes. To this he assigns, 
 under all its various forms, peculiar blessings. To 
 those who possess it, he promises that they shall 
 inherit the earth ; that they shall obtain mercy ; 
 that theirs shall be the kingdom of heaven ; that 
 they shall see God, and shall be called the children 
 of God. 
 
 The recommendation of this character recurs fre- 
 quently in different shapes throughout the whole of 
 the Sermon on the Mount, and a great part of that 
 discourse is nothing more than a comment on the 
 text of the beatitudes. On these, and a few other 
 passages which have any thing particularly novel 
 and important in them, I shall offer some observ- 
 ations. 
 
 But before I quit this noble and consolatory ex- 
 ordium of our Lord's discourse, I shall request your 
 attention to one particular part of it, which seems to 
 require a little explanation. 
 
 The part I allude to is this: " Blessed are the 
 meek, for they shall inherit the earth." 
 
 The blessing here promised to the meek seems 
 at first sight somewhat singular, and not very appro- 
 priate to the virtue recommended. 
 
 That the meek of all others should be destined to 
 inherit the earth, is what one should not naturally 
 have expected. If we may judge from what passes 
 in the world, it is those of a quite opposite character, 
 the bold, the forward, the active, the enterprising,
 
 12 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 the rapacious, the ambitious, that are best calcu- 
 lated to secure to themselves that inheritance. And, 
 undoubtedly, if by inheriting the earth is meant ac- 
 quiring the wealth, the grandeur, the power, the 
 property of the earth, these are the persons who 
 generally seize on a large proportion of those good 
 things, and leave the meek and the gentle far be- 
 hind them in this unequal contest for such advan- 
 tages. But it was far other things than these our 
 Lord had in view. By inheriting the earth, he 
 meant inheriting those things which are, without 
 question, the greatest blessings upon earth, calmness 
 and composure of spirit, tranquillity, cheerfulness, 
 peace and comfort of mind. Now these, I appre- 
 hend, are the peculiar portion and recompence of 
 the meek. Unassuming, gentle, and humble in their 
 deportment, they give no offence, they create no ene- 
 mies, they provoke no hostilities, and thus escape all 
 that large proportion of human misery which arises 
 from dissensions and disputes. If differences do 
 unexpectedly start up, by patience, mildness, and 
 prudence, they disarm their adversaries, they soften 
 resentment, they court reconciliation, and seldom 
 fail of restoring harmony and peace. Having a very 
 humble opinion of themselves, they see others suc- 
 ceed without uneasiness, without envy : having no 
 ambition, no spirit of competition, they feel no pain 
 from disappointment, no mortification from defeat. 
 By bending under the storms that assail them, they 
 greatly mitigate their violence, and see them pass 
 over their heads almost without feeling their force.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 13 
 
 Content and satisfied with their lot, they pass qui- 
 etly and silently through the crowds that surround 
 them ; and encounter much fewer difficulties and 
 calamities in their progress through life than more 
 active and enterprising men. This even tenour of 
 life may indeed be called by men of the world, flat, 
 dull, and insipid. But the meek are excluded from 
 no rational pleasure, no legitimate delight ; and as 
 they are more exempt from anxiety and pain than 
 other men, their sum total of happiness is greater, 
 and they may, in the best sense of the word, be 
 fairly said to inJierit the earth. 
 
 I shall now proceed to notice such other passages 
 of this admirable discourse, as appear to me to de- 
 serve peculiar attention and consideration. 
 
 The first of these is that which begins with the 
 21st verse: "Ye have heard that it was said by them 
 of old time, thou shalt not kill ; and whosoever shall 
 kill shall be in danger of the judgment : but I say 
 unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother 
 without a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment ; 
 and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall 
 be in danger of the council ; but whosoever shall 
 say, thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire." And 
 again in the same manner at the 27th verse : " Ye 
 have heard that it was said by them of old time, 
 thou shalt not commit adultery : but I say unto you, 
 that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, 
 hath committed adultery with her already in his 
 eart." 
 
 I put these two instances together, because they
 
 14 Christ's Sermon on t/ie Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 both enforce the same great leading principle, and 
 both illustrate one great distinguishing excellence 
 of the morality taught by our Saviour ; namely, that 
 it does not content itself with merely controlling our 
 outward actions, but it goes much deeper, it imposes 
 its restraints, it places its guard exactly where it 
 ought to do, on our thoughts and on our hearts. 
 Our Lord here singles out two cases, referring to 
 two different species of passions, the malevolent and 
 the sensual ; and he pronounces the same sentence, 
 the same decisive judgment on both ; that the thing 
 to be regulated is the intention, the passion, the 
 propensity. Former moralists contented themselves 
 with saying, thou shalt not kill. But / (says our 
 Lord) go much farther ; / say, thou shalt not in- 
 dulge any resentment against thy brother, thou shalt 
 not use any reproachful or contemptuous language 
 towards him ; for it is these thing that leads and 
 provoke to the most atrocious deeds. Former mo- 
 ralists have said, thou shalt not commit adultery. 
 But / say, let not thine heart or thine eye commit 
 adultery ; for here it is that the sin begins ; and here 
 it must be crushed in its birth. 
 
 This is wisdom, this is morality in its most perfect 
 form, in its essence, and in its first principles. Every 
 one that is acquainted with men and manners must 
 know that our Lord has here shown a consummate 
 knowledge of human nature ; that he has laid his 
 finger on the right place, and exerted his authority 
 where it was most wanted, in checking the first 
 movements of our criminal desires. Every one
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 15 
 
 must see and feel, that bad thoughts quickly ripen 
 into bad actions ; and that if the latter only are for- 
 bidden, and the former left free, all morality wiL 
 soon be at end. Our Lord, therefore, like a wise 
 physician, goes at once to the bottom of the evil ; 
 he extirpates the first germ and root of the disease, 
 and leaves not a single fibre of it remaining to shoot 
 up again in the heart. 
 
 It was obvious to foresee that the disciples, and 
 the people to whom our Saviour addressed himself, 
 would consider this as very severe discipline, and 
 would complain bitterly, or at least murmur se- 
 cretly, at the hardships of parting with all their 
 favourite passions, of eradicating their strongest 
 natural propensities, of watching constantly every 
 motion of their hearts, and guarding those issues of 
 life and death, those fountains of virtue and of vice, 
 with the most unremitting attention. But all this 
 our divine Master tells them is indispensably neces- 
 sary. All these cautions must be used, all this 
 vigilance must be exercised, all this self-government 
 must be exerted, all these sacrifices must be made. 
 It is the price we are to pay (besides that price 
 which our Redeemer paid) ; and surely no unrea- 
 sonable one, for escaping eternal misery, and ren- 
 dering ourselves capable of eternal glory. He 
 therefore goes on to say, in terms highly figurative 
 and alarming, but not too strong for the occasion, 
 " If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast 
 it from thee ; for it is profitable for thee that one 
 of thy members should perish, and not that thy
 
 16 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy 
 right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from 
 thee; for it is profitable for thee that one of thy 
 members should perish, and not that thy whole body 
 should be cast into hell." * Every one must imme- 
 diately see that the eye to be plucked out is the eye 
 of concupiscence, and the hand to be cut off is the 
 hand of violence and vengeance ; that is, these pas- 
 sions are to be checked and subdued, let the conflict 
 cost us what it may. 
 
 This naturally leads our divine Teacher, in the 
 next verse, to a subject closely connected with one 
 of our strongest passions, and that is, the power of 
 divorce. Among the Jews and the heathens, but 
 more particularly the latter, this power was carried 
 to a great extent, and exercised with the most ca- 
 pricious and wanton cruelty. The best and most 
 affectionate of wives were often dismissed for the 
 slightest reasons, and sometimes without any reason 
 at all. It was high time for some stop to be put to 
 these increasing barbarities, and it was a task worthy 
 of the Son of God himself to stand up as the de- 
 fender and protector of the weak, of the most help- 
 less and most oppressed part of the human species. 
 Accordingly he here declares, in the most positive 
 terms, that the only legitimate cause of divorce is 
 adultery. " It has been said, whosoever shall put away 
 his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement. 
 But I say unto you, whosoever shall put away his 
 wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her 
 
 * Matt. v. 29, 30.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on tJie Mount. 17 
 
 to commit adultery ; and whosoever marrieth her 
 that is divorced, committeth adultery." * This 
 has, by the experience of ages, been found to be a 
 most wise and salutary provision, and no less con- 
 ducive to the happiness than to the virtue of man- 
 kind. And we are taught by the fatal example of 
 other nations, that wherever this law of the Gospel 
 has been abrogated or relaxed, and a greater facility 
 of divorce allowed, the consequence has constantly 
 been a too visible depravation of manners, and the 
 destruction of many of the most essential comforts 
 of the married state. 
 
 The passage to which I shall next advert is the 
 following : " Ye have heard it has been said, an eye 
 for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But / say unto 
 you, that ye resist not evil ; but whosoever shall 
 smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other 
 also ; and if any man will sue thee at the law, and 
 take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also : 
 and whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go 
 with him twain." f 
 
 By the Mosaic law, retaliation was permitted ; an 
 eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, might legally 
 be demanded. \ Among the ancient heathens, pri- 
 vate revenge was indulged without scruple and with- 
 out mercy. The savage nations in America, as well 
 as in almost every other part of the world, set no 
 bounds to the persevering rancour, and the cool de- 
 liberate malignity, with which they will pursue, for 
 
 * Matt. v. 31, 32. 
 
 f Matt. v. 38 41. \ Lev. xxiv. 20. Deut xix. 21 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 years together, not only the person himself from 
 whom they have received an injury, but sometimes 
 every one related to or connected with him. The 
 Arabs are equally implacable in their resentments ; 
 and the Koran itself, in the case of murder, allows 
 private revenge.* 
 
 It was to check this furious ungovernable passion, 
 so universally prevalent over the earth, that our 
 Saviour delivers the precepts now before us. " I 
 say unto you, resist not evil ; but if any one smite 
 thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." 
 No one can imagine that this injunction, and those 
 of the same kind that follow, are to be understood 
 strictly and literally ; that we are to submit, without 
 the least opposition, to every injury and every insult 
 that is offered to us, and are absolutely precluded 
 from every degree of self-preservation and self- 
 defence. This can never be intended ; and the ex- 
 ample of St. Paul, who repelled with proper spirit 
 the insult offered him as a Roman citizen, very 
 clearly proves that we are not to permit ourselves 
 to be trampled on by the foot of pride and oppression, 
 without expressing a just sense of the injury done 
 to us, and endeavouring to avert and repel it. It 
 cannot, therefore, be meant, that if any one, by a 
 cruel and expensive litigation, should deprive us of 
 a part of our property, we should not only relinquish 
 to him that part, but request him also to accept 
 every thing else we have in the world. Nor can it 
 be meant, that if a man should actually strike us 
 * Koran, v. 2. c. 17. p. 100.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 19 
 
 on one cheek, we should immediately turn to him 
 the other, and desire the blow to be repeated. This 
 could not possibly answer any one rational purpose, 
 nor conduce in the least to the peace and happiness 
 of mankind, which were certainly the objects our 
 Saviour had in view ; on the contrary, it would tend 
 materially to obstruct both, by inviting injury, and 
 encouraging insult and oppression. Common sense, 
 therefore, as well as common utility, require that we 
 should consider the particular instances of behaviour 
 under the injuries here specified, as nothing more 
 than strong oriental idioms, as proverbial and figur- 
 ative expressions, intended only to convey a general 
 precept, and to describe that peculiar temper and 
 disposition which the Gospel requires ; that patience, 
 gentleness, mildness, moderation, and forbearance, 
 under injuries and affronts, which is best calculated 
 to preserve the peace of our own minds, as well as 
 that of the world at large ; which tends to soften 
 resentment and turn away wrath ; and without which, 
 on one side or the other, provocations must be end- 
 less, and enmities eternal. 
 
 All, therefore, that is here required of us is plainly 
 and simply this, that we should not suffer our re- 
 sentment of injuries to carry us beyond the bounds 
 of justice, equity, and Christian charity ; that we 
 should not (as St. Paul well explains this passage) 
 recompense evil for evil*, that is, repay one injury by 
 committing another ; that we should not take fire at 
 every slight provocation or trivial offence, nor pursue 
 * Rom. xii. 17. 
 c 2
 
 20 . Christ's Sermon on tfie Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 even the greatest and most flagrant injuries with 
 implacable fury and. inextinguishable rancour ; that 
 we should make all reasonable allowances for the 
 infirmities of human nature, for the passions, the 
 prejudices, the failings, the misapprehensions, of 
 those we have to deal with ; and, without submit- 
 ting tamely to oppression or insult, or giving up 
 rights of great and acknowledged importance, should 
 always show a disposition to conciliate and forgive ; 
 and rather to recede and give way a little in certain 
 instances, than insist on the utmost satisfaction and 
 reparation that we have perhaps a strict right to 
 demand. 
 
 The chapter concludes with another remarkable 
 precept, which may strictly be called a new com- 
 mandment; for in no moral code is it to be found, 
 till our Lord gave it a place in his. 
 
 The precept is this: "Ye have heard it has been 
 said, Thou shall love thy neighbour, and hate thine 
 enemy. But / say unto you, Love your enemies, 
 bless them that curse you, do good to them that 
 hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use 
 you, and persecute you; that ye may be the 
 children of your Father which is in heaven ; for he 
 maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, 
 and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." * 
 
 So noble, so sublime, and so benevolent a precept, 
 was never before given to man; and it is one strong 
 proof, among many others, of the originality of our 
 Saviour's character and religion. 
 * Matt. v. 4345.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on tfie Mount. 21 
 
 The Jews were expressly commanded to love 
 their neighbour; but this injunction was not ex- 
 tended to their enemies, and they therefore thought 
 that this was a tacit permission to hate them; a 
 conclusion which seemed to be much strengthened 
 by their being enjoined to wage eternal war with 
 one of their enemies, the Canaanites, to show them 
 no mercy, but to root them out of the land. In 
 consequence of this they did entertain strong pre- 
 judices and malignant sentiments towards every 
 other nation but their own, and were justly re- 
 proached for this by the Roman historian; "apud 
 ipsos misericordia in promptu, adversus omnes alios 
 hostile odium*:" that is, towards each other they 
 are compassionate and kind ; towards all others they 
 cherish a deadly hatred. But it ought in justice to 
 be observed, that this remark of Tacitus might have 
 been applied, with almost equal aptitude, both to his 
 own countrymen the Romans, and to the Greeks ; for 
 they gave to all other nations but themselves the 
 name of Barbarians; and having stigmatised them 
 with this opprobrious appellation, they treated them 
 as if they were in reality what they had wantonly 
 thought fit to call them. They treated them with 
 insolence, contempt, and cruelty. They created 
 and carried on unceasing hostilities against them, 
 and never sheathed the sword till they had exter- 
 minated or enslaved them. 
 
 In private life, also, it was thought allowable to 
 pursue those with whom they were at variance with 
 * Tacit. Hist. v. 5. 
 C 3
 
 22 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 the keenest resentment and most implacable hatred ; 
 to take every opportunity of annoying and dis- 
 tressing them, and not to rest till they had felt the 
 severest effects of unrelenting vengeance. 
 
 In this situation of the world, and in this general 
 ferment of the malevolent passions, how seasonable, 
 how salutary, how kind, how conciliatory, was the 
 command to love, not only our friends, not only our 
 neighbours, not only strangers, but even our enemies ! 
 How gracious that injunction, " /say unto you, Love 
 your enemies ; do good to them that hate you ; bless 
 them that curse you ; and pray for them that des- 
 pitefully use you, and persecute you ! " And how 
 touching, how irresistible, is the argument used to 
 enforce it ; " That ye may be the children of your 
 Father which is in heaven ; for he maketh his sun 
 to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth 
 rain on the just and on the unjust !" 
 
 It is remarkable, that the philosopher Seneca 
 makes use of the same argument, not exactly for 
 the same purpose, but for a similar one : "If (says 
 he) you would imitate the gods, confer favours even 
 on the ungrateful; for the sun rises on the wicked, 
 and the seas are open even unto pirates : " and again, 
 " The gods show many acts of kindness even to the 
 ungrateful." * It is highly probable that the phi- 
 losopher took this sentiment from this very passage 
 of St. Matthew; for no such sublime morality is, I 
 believe, to be found in any heathen writer previoui 
 to the Christian revelation. 
 
 * Sen. de Benef. lib. 4. c. 26. and c. 28.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 23 
 
 Seneca flourished and wrote after the Gospels 
 were written, and after Christianity had made some 
 progress. Besides this, he was brother to Gallic, 
 the proconsul of Achaia, before whose tribunal St. 
 Paul was brought by the Jews at Corinth. * From 
 him he would of course receive much information 
 respecting this new religion, and the principal cha- 
 racters concerned in it ; and from the extraordinary 
 things he would hear of it from such authentic 
 sources, his curiosity would naturally be excited to 
 look a little farther into it, and to peruse the writings 
 that contained the history and the doctrines of this 
 new school of philosophy. This, and this only, can 
 account for the fine strains of morality we sometimes 
 meet with in Seneca, Plutarch, Marcus Antoninus, 
 Epictetus, and the other philosophers who wrote 
 after the Christian era, and the visible superiority 
 of their ethics to those of their predecessors before 
 that period. But to return. 
 
 It has been objected to this command of loving our 
 enemies, that it is extravagant and impracticable ; 
 that it is impossible for any man to bring himself to 
 entertain any real love for his enemies ; and that 
 human nature revolts and recoils against so un- 
 reasonable a requisition. 
 
 This objection evidently goes upon the. supposition 
 that we are to love our enemies in the same manner 
 and degree, and with the same cordiality and ardour 
 of affection, that we do our relations and friends. 
 And if this were required, it might indeed be con- 
 
 Acts, xviii. 12. 
 
 c 4
 
 24 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 sidered as a harsh injunction. But our Lord was 
 not so severe a task-master as to expect this at our 
 hands. There are different degrees of love, as well 
 as of every other human affection ; and these degrees 
 are to be duly proportioned to the different objects 
 of our regard. There is one degree due to our 
 relations, another to our benefactors, another to our 
 friends, another to strangers, another to our ene- 
 mies. There is no need to define the precise shades 
 and limits of each, our own feelings will save us that 
 trouble; and in that only case where our feelings are 
 ^kely to lead us wrong, this precept of our Lord 
 will direct us right. 
 
 And it exacts nothing but what is both reasonable 
 and practicable. It explains what is meant by loving 
 our enemies in the words that immediately follow: 
 " Bless them that curse you ; do good to them that 
 hate you ; and pray for them that despitefully use 
 you, and persecute you : " that is, do not retaliate 
 upon your enemy ; do not return his execrations, 
 his injuries, and his persecutions, with similar treat- 
 ment ; do not turn upon him his own weapons, but 
 endeavour to subdue him with weapons of a celestial 
 temper, with kindness and compassion. This is of 
 all others the most effectual way of vanquishing an 
 enraged adversary. The interpretation here given 
 is amply confirmed by St. Paul in his Epistle to the 
 Romans, which is an admirable comment on this 
 passage : " Dearly beloved," says he, " avenge not 
 yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath ; for 
 vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 35 
 
 Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he 
 thirst, give him drink. Be not overcome of evil, but 
 overcome evil with good."* This then is the love 
 that we are to show our enemies ; not that ardour of 
 affection which we feel towards our friends, but that 
 lower kind of love which is called Christian charity 
 (for it is the same word in the original) and which we 
 ought to exercise towards every human being, espe- 
 cially in distress. If even our enemy hunger, we are 
 to feed him; if he thirst, we are to give him drink; 
 and thus shall obtain the noblest of all triumphs, " we 
 shall overcome evil with good." The world if they 
 please may call this meanness of spirit ; but it is in 
 fact the truest magnanimity and elevation of soul. 
 It is far more glorious and more difficult to subdue 
 our own resentments, and to act with generosity 
 and kindness to our adversary, than to make him 
 feel the severest effects of our vengeance. It is 
 this noblest act of self-government, this conquest 
 over our strongest passions, which our Saviour here 
 requires. It is what constitutes the highest per- 
 fection of our nature; and it is this perfection which 
 is meant in the concluding verse of this chapter ; 
 " Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father which is 
 in heaven is perfect f;" that is, in your conduct 
 towards your enemies approach as near as you are 
 able to that perfection of mercy which your heavenly 
 Father manifests towards his enemies, towards the 
 evil and the unjust, on whom he maketh his sun to 
 rise as well as on the righteous and the just. This 
 * Rom. xii. 1921. f Matt. v. 48.
 
 26 Christ's Sertnon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 sense of the word perfect is established beyond con- 
 troversy by the parallel passage in St. Luke ; where, 
 instead of the terms made use of by St. Matthew, 
 "Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father which is in 
 heaven is perfect," the evangelist expressly says, 
 " Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is 
 merciful." * 
 
 This, then, is the perfection which you are to exert 
 your utmost efforts to attain; and if you succeed in 
 your attempt, your reward shall be great indeed; 
 you shall, as our Lord assures you, be the children 
 of the Most High, f 
 
 Having now brought these lectures to a con- 
 clusion for the present year, J I cannot take my leave 
 of you without expressing the great comfort and 
 satisfaction I have derived from the appearance of 
 such numerous and attentive congregations as I 
 have seen in this place. That satisfaction, if I can 
 at all judge of my own sentiments and feelings, does 
 not originate from any selfisl^gratincation; but from 
 the real interest I take in the welfare, the eternal 
 welfare, of every one here present; from the hope 
 I entertain that some useful impressions may have 
 been made upon your minds ; and from the evidence 
 which this general earnestness to hear the word of 
 God explained and recommended affords, that a 
 deeper sense of duty, a more serious attention to 
 the great concerns of eternity, has, by the blessing 
 of God, been awakened in your souls. If this be so, 
 
 * Luke, vi. 36. f Matt. v. 45. 
 
 |_This Lecture was preceded by five others. ED.]
 
 PORTEUS.I Christ's Sermon on t/ie Mount. 27 
 
 allow me most earnestly to entreat you not to let 
 this ardour cool ; not to let these pious sentiments 
 die away ; not to let these good seeds be choked by 
 the returning cares and pleasures of the world. 
 But go, retire into your closets, fall down upon 
 your knees before your Maker, and fervently im- 
 plore him to pour down upon you the over-ruling 
 influences of his Holy Spirit; to enlighten your 
 understandings, to sanctify your hearts, to subdue 
 your passions, to confirm your good resolutions, and 
 enable you to resist every enemy of your salvation. 
 
 The world will soon again display all its attractions 
 before you, and endeavour to extinguish every good 
 principle you have imbibed. But if the divine truths 
 you have heard explained and enforced in these Lec- 
 tures have taken any firm root in your minds ; if you 
 are seriously convinced that Christ and his religion 
 came from heaven, and that he is able to make good 
 whatever he has promised and whatever he has 
 threatened, there is nothing surely in this world 
 that can induce you to risk the loss of eternal hap- 
 piness, or the infliction of never-ceasing punishment. 
 
 Least of all will you think that this is the precise 
 moment for setting your affections on this world and 
 its enjoyments ; that these are the times for engag- 
 ing in eager pursuits after the advantages, the ho- 
 nours, the pleasures, of the present life ; for plunging 
 into vice, for dissolving in gaiety and pleasure, for 
 suffering every trivial, every insignificant object, to 
 banish the remembrance of your Maker and Re- 
 deemer from your hearts, where they ought to reign
 
 28 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 unrivalled and supreme. Surely amidst the dark 
 clouds that now hang over us*, these are not the 
 things that will brighten up our prospects, that will 
 lessen our danger, that will calm our apprehensions, 
 and speak peace and comfort to our souls. No, it 
 must be something of a very different nature ; a deep 
 sense of our own umvorthiness, a sincere contrition 
 for our past offences, a prostration of ourselves in all 
 humility before the throne of grace, an earnest ap- 
 plication for pardon and acceptance through the 
 merits of Him who died for us (whose death and 
 sufferings for our sakes the approaching week will 
 bring fresh before our view), an ardent desire to 
 manifest our love and gratitude, our devotion and 
 attachment to our Maker and our Redeemer, by 
 giving them a decided priority and predominance in 
 pur affections and our hearts ; by making their will 
 the ruling principle of our conduct ; the attainment 
 of their favour, the advancement of their glory, the 
 chief object of our wishes and desires. These are 
 the sentiments we ought to cultivate and cherish if 
 we wish for any solid comfort under calamity or 
 affliction, any confidence in the favour and protec- 
 tion of heaven ; these alone can support and sustain 
 our souls in the midst of danger and distress, at the 
 hour of death, and in the day of judgment. 
 
 And how, then, are these holy sentiments, these 
 heavenly affections, to be excited in our hearts? 
 Most certainly not by giving up all our time and all 
 our thoughts to the endless occupations, the never- 
 
 * In March, 1798.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 29 
 
 ceasing gaieties and amusements, of this dissipated 
 metropolis ; but by withdrawing ourselves frequently 
 from this tumultuous scene, by retiring into our 
 chamber, by communing with our own hearts, by 
 fervent prayer, by holding high converse with out 
 Maker, and cultivating some acquaintance with that 
 unseen world to which we are all hastening, and 
 which, in one way or other, must be our portion for 
 ever. 
 
 Many of those whom I now see before me have, 
 from their high rank and situation in life, full leisure 
 and ample opportunities for all these important pur- 
 poses ; and let them be assured, that a strict account 
 will one day be demanded of them in what manner 
 and with what effect they have employed the talents, 
 the time, and the many other advantages with which 
 their gracious Maker has indulged them. 
 
 And even those who are most engaged in the busy 
 and laborious scenes of life, have at least one day in 
 the week which they may and which they ought to 
 dedicate to the great concerns of religion. Let, then, 
 that day be kept sacred to its original destination by 
 all ranks of men, from the highest to the lowest. 
 Let it not be profaned by needless journeys, by 
 splendid entertainments, by crowded assemblies, by 
 any thing, in short, which precludes either ourselves, 
 our families, or our domestics, from the exercise of 
 religious duties, or the improvement of those pious 
 sentiments and affections which it was meant" to in- 
 spire. Let me not, however, be misunderstood. I 
 mean not that it should be either to the rich OF
 
 30 Christ's Sermon on tiie Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 the poor, or to any human being whatever, a day of 
 gloom and melancholy, a day of superstitious rigour, 
 and of absolute exclusion from all society and all 
 innocent recreation. I know of nothing in Scripture 
 that requires this; I know of no good effects that 
 could result from it. On the contrary, it is a festi- 
 val, a. joyful festival ; a day to which we ought always 
 to look forward with delight, and enjoy with a 
 thankful and a grateful heart. But let it be re- 
 membered, at the same time, that it is a day which 
 God claims as his own; that he has stamped upon it 
 a peculiar mark of sanctity ; and that it ought to be 
 distinguished from every other day, in the first place, 
 by resting from our usual occupations, and giving 
 rest to our servants and our cattle ; in the next, by 
 attendance on the public worship of God ; and in 
 the remaining intervals, by relaxations and enjoy- 
 ments peculiarly its aton; not by quotidian tumult, 
 noise, and dissipation ; but by the calm and silent 
 pleasures of retirement, of recollection, of devout 
 meditation, of secret prayer, yet mingled discreetly 
 with select society, with friendly converse, with 
 sober recreation, and with decent cheerfulness 
 throughout the whole. 
 
 It was to draw off our attention from the common 
 follies and vanities of the week, and to give the soul 
 a little pause, a little respite, a little breathing from 
 the incessant importunities of business and of plea- 
 sure, that this holy festival was instituted. And if 
 we cannot give up these things for a single day, if 
 we cannot n.ake this small sacrifice to Him from
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 31 
 
 whom we derive our very existence, it is high time 
 for us to look to our hearts, and to consider very 
 seriously whether such a disposition and temper of 
 mind as this will ever qualify us for the kingdom of 
 heaven. 
 
 " Could ye not watch with me one hour ? " said our 
 divine Master to his slumbering companions.* Can 
 ye not give me one day out of seven ? may he now say 
 to his thoughtless disciples. Let none of us, then, 
 ever subject ourselves to this bitter reproach. Let 
 us resolve from this moment to make the Christian 
 sabbath a day of holy joy and consolation ; a day of 
 heavenly rest and refreshment ; and above all, a day 
 for the attentive perusal of those sacred pages which 
 have been the subject of these Lectures, and of your 
 most serious attention. It is to be hoped, indeed, 
 that we shall not confine our religion and our de- 
 votion to that day only ; but even that day properly 
 employed will in some degree sanctify all the rest. 
 It will disengage us (as it was meant to do) gradually 
 and gently from that world, which we must soon 
 (perhaps sooner than we imagine) quit for ever ; it 
 will raise our thoughts above the low and trivial 
 pursuits of the present scene, and fix them on nobler 
 and worthier objects ; it will refine and purify, exalt 
 and spiritualise our affections ; will bring us nearer 
 and nearer to God, and to the world of spirits ; and 
 thus lead us on to that CELESTIAL SABBATH, that 
 EVERLASTING REST, for which the Christian sabbath 
 was meant to prepare and to harmonise our souls. 
 
 IVlark, xiv. 37.
 
 32 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 CHRIST'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT 
 
 [CONCLUDED.] 
 MATT. VI. AND VII. 
 
 IN these two chapters our Lord continues and con- 
 cludes his admirable discourse from the Mount. 
 
 The first thing to be noticed here is a strong and 
 repeated caution to avoid all show and ostentation 
 in the performance of our religious duties. 
 
 The three instances specified are the acts of 
 giving alms, of praying, and of fasting. 
 
 The direction with regard to the first is, " Take 
 heed that you do not your alms before men, to be 
 seen of them, otherwise ye have no reward of your 
 Father which is in heaven. Therefore when thou 
 doest thy alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, 
 as the hypocrites do in the synagogues, and in the 
 streets, that they may have glory of men ; verily I 
 say unto you they have their reward. But when 
 thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what 
 thy right hand doeth, that thine alms may be in 
 secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret him- 
 self shall reward thee openly." * 
 
 In the same manner with regard to prayer ; the 
 rule is, " When thou prayest thou shalt not be as 
 the hypocrites are, for they love to pray standing 
 in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, 
 
 * Matt. vi. 1 4.
 
 .] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 33 
 
 that they may be seen of men ; verily I say unto 
 you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou 
 hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in 
 secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall 
 reward thee openly." * 
 
 Lastly, a similar precaution applies also to the 
 act of fasting ; " When ye fast, be not as the 
 hypocrites of a sad countenance, for they disfigure 
 their faces that they may appear unto men to fast ; 
 verily I say unto you, They have their reward. 
 But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy head and 
 wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men 
 to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret ; 
 and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward 
 thee openly." -f- 
 
 In all these passages the point to be noticed is a 
 strong and marked disapprobation of every thing 
 that looks like ostentation, parade, vain-glory, in- 
 sincerity, or hypocrisy, in the discharge of our 
 Christian duties. They show in the clearest light 
 the spirit and temper of the Christian religion, 
 which is modest, silent, retired, quiet, unobtrusive, 
 shunning the observation and the applause of men, 
 and looking only to the approbation of Him who 
 seeth every thought of our hearts, and every secret 
 motive of our actions. 
 
 They establish this as the grand principle of 
 action for every disciple of Christ, that in every 
 part of his moral and religious conduct he is to 
 have no other object in view but the favour of God. 
 
 * Matt. vi. 5, 6. f Matt. vi. 1618. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34- Christ's Sermon on the Mmtnt. [BISHOP 
 
 This is the motive from which all his virtues are 
 to flow. If he is actuated by any other; if he 
 courts the applause of the world, or is ambitious to 
 acquire, by a show of piety, a character of sanctity 
 among men, he may perhaps gain his point ; but it 
 is all he will gain. He will have his reward here ; 
 he must expect none hereafter. 
 
 Having made this general observation upon the 
 whole, I shall now proceed to remark on the parti- 
 cular instances t adduced, in order to establish the 
 leading principle. 
 
 And first, we are directed to give our alms so 
 privately, that (as our Lord most emphatically and 
 elegantly expresses it) " our left hand shall not 
 know what our right hand doeth." This evidently 
 implies the utmost secrecy in the distribution of 
 our charity; and this is undoubtedly the rule we 
 are in general to observe. But it is by no means 
 to be inferred from hence that we are never, on 
 any occasion, to give our alms in public. In some 
 cases, publicity is so far from being culpable, that 
 it is necessary, useful, and laudable. In contri- 
 buting, for instance, to any public charity, or to the 
 relief of some great calamity, private or public, we 
 cannot well conceal our beneficence, or if we could, 
 we ought not. Our example may induce many others 
 to exert a similar generosity ; and besides this 
 there are persons in certain situations who are 
 expected to be charitable, and who should 'give 
 proofs to the world that they are so. And accordr 
 ingly in these and hi such like cases we are re-
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 35 
 
 quired to make our " light so shine before men, 
 that they may see our good works, and glorify our 
 Father which is in heaven." * As far, therefore, as 
 the reason of this command goes, it is not only 
 allowable, but our duty, to let our generous deeds 
 be sometimes known to the world. But then we 
 ought to take especial care at the same time that 
 we bestow a much larger proportion of our alms in 
 secrecy and in silence ; that we suffer no one to 
 witness our beneficence but Him who must see 
 every thing we do ; and that we have no other 
 object whatever in view but his approbation, and 
 his immortal rewards. 
 
 The next instance adduced to confirm the 
 general principle of seeking the approbation not 
 of men but of God, is that of prayer. 
 
 "When thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the 
 hypocrites are ; for they love to pray standing in the 
 synagogues and hi the corners of the streets, that 
 they may be seen of men ; verily I say unto you, 
 They have their reward. But thou, when thou 
 prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast 
 shut the door, pray to thy Father which is in 
 secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall 
 reward thee openly." 
 
 This passage has been made use of by some 
 writers as an argument against all public prayer, 
 which they say is here plainly prohibited. But for 
 this there is not the smallest foundation : it is of 
 private prayer only that our Lord is here speaking ; 
 
 * Matt. v. 16. 
 D 2
 
 36 CJirist's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 and the hypocrites whom he condemns were those 
 ostentatious Jews who performed those devotions, 
 which ought to have been confined to the closet, in 
 the synagogues, and even in the public streets, that 
 they might be noticed and applauded for their ex- 
 traordinary piety and sanctity. But this reproof 
 could not possibly mean to extend to public devo- 
 tions in places of worship. This is evident from 
 the corners of streets being mentioned ; for those 
 are places in which public devotions are never 
 performed. But besides this, we find in Scripture 
 that public worship is enjoined as a duty of the 
 highest importance. It made a considerable part 
 of the Jewish religion, and the Mosaic law is filled 
 with precepts and directions concerning it. God 
 declares by the prophet Isaiali, "that his house 
 shall be called a house of prayer for all people." * 
 Our Saviour quotes these very words when he cast 
 out those that polluted the temple ; and was him- 
 self a constant frequenter of divine worship, both in 
 the temple and in the synagogues. He taught his 
 disciples (as we shall soon see) a form of prayer, 
 which though very proper to be used by any single 
 person in private, yet is throughout expressed in 
 the plural number, and adapted to the use of 
 several persons praying at the same time. " If two 
 of you," says he to his disciples on another occa- 
 sion, " shall agree on earth touching any thing that 
 they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my 
 Father which is in heaven ; for where two or three 
 * Isaiah, Ivi. 7.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 37 
 
 are gathered together in my name, there am I in 
 the midst of them." * By St. Paul we are com- 
 manded "not to forsake the assembling of our- 
 selves together, as the manner of some is." f And 
 we find, that after our Saviour's ascension, his 
 followers " continued stedfastly in the apostles' 
 doctrine and fellowship, and in prayer and suppli- 
 cation, praising God, and having favour with all 
 the people." J 
 
 It is, therefore, incontestably clear that our Sa- 
 viour could not possibly mean to forbid that public 
 worship which he himself practised and com- 
 nanded. His intentions could only be to confine 
 aur private prayers to private places, in which we 
 are to keep up a secret intercourse with our Maker, 
 withdrawn from the eye of the world, and un- 
 observed by any other than that Almighty Being 
 to whom our petitions are addressed. 
 
 The last instance produced by our Saviour is 
 that of fasting. "When ye fast, be not as the 
 hypocrites of a sad countenance ; for they disfigure 
 their faces that they may appear unto men to fast ; 
 verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But 
 thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy head and wash 
 thy face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, 
 but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy 
 Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee 
 openly*" < 
 
 There is very little necessity to dwell on this 
 precept here; for there are scarce any in these 
 
 * Matt, xviii. 19, 20. f Heb. x. 25. \ Acts,ii. 42.47. 
 D 3
 
 38 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 times and in this country who seem disposed to 
 make a slum of fasting, or to be ambitious of ac- 
 quiring a reputation for that kind of religious dis- 
 cipline : on the contrary, it is by great numbers 
 entirely laid aside, and too frequently treated with 
 derision and contempt. Yet from this very passage 
 we may learn that it ought to be considered in a 
 much more serious light ; for although our Saviour 
 did not command his disciples to fast whilst he was 
 with them, yet he himself fasted for forty days. He 
 here plainly supposes that his disciples did some- 
 times fast ; and gives them directions how to per- 
 form that duty in a manner acceptable to God. 
 And it appears also, that if they did so perform it, 
 if they fasted without any ostentation or parade, 
 with a design not to catch the applause of men, but 
 to approve themselves to God, he assured them 
 they should have their reward. 
 
 Before we quit this division of the chapter, we must 
 go back a little to that admirable form of prayer 
 which our Lord gave to his disciples, after cautioning 
 them against all ostentation in their devotions. 
 
 This prayer stands unrivalled in every circum- 
 stance that constitutes the perfection of prayer, and 
 the excellence of that species of composition. It is 
 concise ; it is perspicuous ; it is solemn ; it is com- 
 prehensive ; it is adapted to all ranks, conditions, and 
 classes of men ; it fixes our thoughts on a few great 
 important points ; and impresses on our minds a deep 
 sense of the goodness and the greatness of that 
 Almighty Being to whom it is addressed.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ s Sermon on the Mount. 39 
 
 It begins with acknowledging him to be our most 
 gracious and merciful Father ; it begs that his name 
 may every where be reverenced, that his religion 
 may spread over the earth, and that his will may be 
 obeyed by men with the same ardour and alacrity 
 and constancy that it is by the angels in heaven. 
 It next entreats the supply of all our essential wants, 
 both temporal and spiritual ; a sufficiency of those 
 things that are absolutely necessary for our sub- 
 sistence ; the forgiveness of our transgressions, on 
 condition that we forgive our brethren ; and, finally, 
 support under the temptations that assault our 
 virtue, and deliverance from the various evils and 
 calamities that every where surround us ; expressing 
 at the same time the utmost trust and confidence in 
 the power of God, to grant whatever he sees it ex- 
 pedient and proper for his creatures to receive. 
 
 The full meaning, then, of this admirable prayer, 
 and of the several petitions contained in it, may 
 perhaps be not improperly expressed in the fol- 
 lowing manner : 
 
 O thou great Parent of the universe, our Creator, 
 our Preserver, and continual Benefactor, grant that 
 we and all reasonable creatures may entertain just 
 and worthy notions of thy nature and attributes ; 
 may fear thy power, admire thy wisdom, adore thy 
 goodness, rely upon thy truth ; may reverence thy 
 holy name, may bless and praise thee, may worship 
 and obey thee. 
 
 Grant that all the nations of the earth may come 
 to the knowledge and belief of thy holy religion ;
 
 40 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 that it may every where produce the blessed fruits 
 of piety, righteousness, charity, and sobriety ; that by 
 a constant endeavour to obey thy holy laws, we may 
 approach, as near as the infirmity of our nature will 
 allow, to the more perfect obedience of the angels 
 that are in heaven ; and thus qualify ourselves for 
 entering into thy kingdom of glory hereafter. 
 
 Feed us, we beseech thee, with food convenient 
 for us. We ask not for riches and honours ; give us 
 only what is necessary for our comfortable sub- 
 sistence in the several stations which thy providence 
 has allotted to us; and, above all, give us contented 
 minds. 
 
 We are all, O Lord, the very best of us, miserable 
 sinners. Be not extreme, we beseech thee, to 
 mark what we have done amiss, but pity our in- 
 firmities, and pardon our offences. Yet let us not 
 dare to implore forgiveness from thee, unless we 
 also from our hearts forgive our offending brethren. 
 
 We are surrounded, on every side, with tempt- 
 ations to sin ; and such is the corruption and frailty 
 of our nature, that without thy powerful succour we 
 cannot always stand upright. Take us then, O gra- 
 cious God, under thy almighty protection ; and 
 amidst all the dangers and difficulties of our Chris- 
 tian warfare, be thou our refuge and support. 
 Suffer us not to be tempted above what we are able 
 to bear ; but send thy Holy Spirit to strengthen our 
 own weak endeavours, and enable us to escape or to 
 subdue all the enemies of our salvation. 
 
 Preserve us also, if it be thy blessed will, not only
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 41 
 
 from spiritual, but from temporal evil. Keep us 
 ever by thy watchful providence, both outwardly in 
 our bodies, and inwardly in our souls ; that, thou 
 being in all cases our ruler and guide, we may so 
 pass through things temporal, as finally to lose not 
 the things eternal. 
 
 Hear us, O Lord our governor, from heaven thy 
 dw.elling place ; and when thou hearest, have regard 
 to our petitions. They are offered up to thee in the 
 fullest confidence that thy goodness will dispose, 
 and thy power enable thee to grant whatever thy 
 wisdom sees to be convenient for us, and conducive 
 to our final happiness. 
 
 The next thing which peculiarly demands our 
 attention in this chapter is the declaration contained 
 in the 24th verse, which presents to us another fun- 
 damental principle of the Christian religion ; namely, 
 the necessity of giving \hejirst place in our hearts 
 and our affections to God and religion, and pursuing 
 other things only in subordination to those great 
 objects. " No man," says our Lord, " can serve 
 two masters : for either he will hate the one, and 
 love the other ; or else he will hold to the one, and 
 despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and 
 mammon." * 
 
 The word mammon is generally interpreted to 
 mean riches only ; but the original rather directs us to 
 take it in a more general sense, as comprehending 
 every thing that is capable of being an object of 
 trust or a ground of confidence to men of worldly 
 * Matt. vi. 24.
 
 42 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 minds ; such as wealth, power, honour, fame, business, 
 sensual pleasures, gay amusements, and all the 
 other various pursuits of the present scene. It is 
 these that constitute what we usually express by the 
 word world, when opposed to religion. Here, then, 
 are the two masters, who claim dominion over us, 
 God and the world; and one of these we must serve; 
 both we cannot, because their dispositions and their 
 commands are in general diametrically opposite to 
 each other. The world invites us to indulge all our 
 appetites without control ; to entangle ourselves in 
 the cares and distractions of business ; to engage 
 with eagerness in endless contests for superiority 
 in power, wealth, and honour ; or to give up our- 
 selves, body and soul, to gaiety, amusement, plea- 
 sure, and every kind of luxurious indulgence. These 
 are the services which one master requires. But 
 there is another master, whose injunctions are of a 
 very different nature. That master is GOD ; and 
 his commands are, to give him our hearts ; to love 
 him with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and 
 strength ; to be temperate in all things ; to make 
 our moderation known unto all men; to fix our 
 affections on things above ; to have our conversation 
 in heaven; to cast all our care upon him; and to 
 take up our cross and follow Christ. 
 
 Judge now whether it be possible to serve these 
 two masters at one and the same time, and to obey 
 the commands of each ; commands so perfectly con 
 tradictory to each other. 
 
 Yet this is what a great part of mankind most
 
 POUTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on tJie Mount. 43 
 
 absurdly attempt ; endeavour to divide themselves 
 between God and mammon, to compromise the 
 matter as well as they can between the commands 
 of one and the seductions of the other ; to vibrate 
 perpetually between vice and virtue, between piety 
 and pleasure, between inclination and duty ; to 
 render a worldly life and a religious life consistent 
 with each other ; and to take as much as they can 
 of the enjoyments and advantages of the present 
 world, without losing their hold on the rewards of 
 the next. 
 
 Yet, in direct contradiction to so extravagant and 
 preposterous a system as this, Christ himself assures 
 us here that we cannot serve two masters ; that we 
 cannot serve God and mammon. Our Maker ex- 
 pects to reign absolute in our hearts ; he will not 
 be served by halves ; he will not accept of a divided 
 empire ; he will not suffer us to halt between two 
 opinions. We must take our choice, and adhere to 
 one side or the other. " If the Lord be God, follow 
 him ; but if Baal, then follow him." * 
 
 But what then are we to do ? Are we to live in 
 a state of perpetual warfare and hostility with that 
 very world in which the hand of Providence has 
 placed us, and which is prepared in various ways 
 for our reception and accommodation ? Are we 
 never to taste of those various delights which our 
 Maker has poured so bountifully around us ? Are 
 we never to indulge those appetites which he himself 
 has planted in our breasts ? Are we so entirely to 
 * 1 Kings, xviii. 21.
 
 44 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 confine ourselves to the paths of righteousness, as 
 never to enter those that lead to power, to honour, 
 to wealth, or to fame? Are we to engage in no 
 secular occupations, to make no provision for our- 
 selves and our families ? Are we altogether to 
 withdraw ourselves from the cares, and business, 
 and distractions of the world, and give ourselves 
 wholly up to solitude, meditation, and prayer ? Are 
 we never to mingle in the cheerful amusements of 
 society? Are we not to indulge ourselves in the 
 refined pleasures of literary pursuits, nor wander 
 even for a moment into the delightful regions of 
 science or imagination? 
 
 Were this a true picture of our duties, and of the 
 sacrifices which Christianity requires from us ; were 
 these the commands of our divine Lawgiver, well 
 might we say with the astonished disciples, " Who 
 then can be saved ? " 
 
 But the God whom we serve is not so hard a 
 master, nor does his religion contain any such severe 
 restrictions as these. Christianity forbids no ne- 
 cessary occupations, no reasonable indulgences, no 
 innocent relaxations. It allows us to use the world, 
 provided we do not abuse it. It does not spread 
 before us a delicious banquet, and then come with 
 a " touch not, taste not, handle not." * All it 
 requires is, that our liberty degenerate not into 
 licentiousness, our amusements into dissipation, our 
 industry into incessant toil, our carefulness into 
 extreme anxiety and endless solicitude. So far 
 * Coloss. ii. 21.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 45 
 
 from forbidding us to engage in business, it ex- 
 pressly commands us not to be slothful in it*, and 
 to labour with our hands for the things that be 
 needful ; it enjoins every one to abide in the calling 
 wherein he was called f, and perform all the duties 
 of it. It even stigmatises those that provide not 
 for their own, with telling them, that they are worse 
 than infidels. J When it requires us " to be tem- 
 perate in all things," it plainly tells us that we 
 may use all things temperately ; when it directs us 
 " to make our moderation known unto all men ||," 
 this evidently implies, that within the bounds of 
 moderation we may enjoy all the reasonable con- 
 veniences and comforts of the present life. 
 
 But how, then, are we to reconcile this partici- 
 pation in the concerns of the present life, with those 
 very strong declarations of Scripture, " that we are 
 not to be conformed to this world ; that the friend- 
 ship of the world is enmity with God ; that we are to 
 take no thought for the morrow ; that we are to lay up 
 treasures no where but in heaven ; that we are to 
 pray without ceasing ; that we are to do all things 
 to the glory of God ; that we are not only to leave 
 father, mother, brethren, and sisters, for the sake 
 of Christ and his Gospel, but that if we do not hate 
 all these near and dear connections, and even our 
 own lives, we cannot be his disciples?" ^[ 
 
 * Rom. xii. 12. 1 Cor. iv. 12. f 1 Cor. vii. 20. 
 
 \ 1 Tim. v. 8. 1 Cor. ix. 25, || Phil. it. 5. 
 
 f Rom. xii. 2. James, iv. 4. Matt. vi. 20. 34. 1 Thess. 
 v. 17. Ephes. vi. 18. 1 Cor. x. 31. Luke, xiv. 26.
 
 46 Chrises Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 These, it must be acknowledged, are very strong 
 expressions ; and, taken in their strict literal sense, 
 do certainly imply that we are to abandon every 
 thing that is most dear and valuable and delightful 
 to us in this life, and to devote ourselves so entirely 
 to the contemplation and love and worship of God, 
 as not to bestow a single thought on any thing 
 else, or to give ourselves the smallest concern about 
 the affairs of this sublunary state. 
 
 But can any one imagine this to be the real doc- 
 trine of Scripture ? You may rest assured that no- 
 thing so unreasonable and extravagant is to be fairly 
 deduced from these sacred writings. 
 
 In order, then, to clear up this most important 
 point, three things are to be considered : 
 
 1st, That were these injunctions to be under- 
 stood in their literal signification, it would be utterly 
 impossible for us to continue a week longer in the 
 world. If, for instance, we were bound to pray 
 without ceasing, and to take no thought whatever for 
 the morrow, we must all of us quickly perish for want 
 of the common necessaries of life. 
 
 2dly, It must be observed that all oriental writers, 
 both sacred and profane, are accustomed to ex- 
 press themselves in bold ardent figures and meta- 
 phors, which, before their true meaning can be 
 ascertained, require very considerable abatements, 
 restrictions, and limitations. 
 
 3dly, What is most of all to the purpose, these 
 abatements are almost constantly pointed out by 
 Scripture itself; and whenever a very strong and
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 47 
 
 forcible idiom is made use of, you will generally find 
 it explained and modified by a different expression 
 of the same sentiment, which either immediately 
 follows or occurs in some other passage of Scrip- 
 ture. 
 
 Thus, in the present instance, when Christ says, 
 " Ye cannot serve God and mammon ; therefore 
 take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat and 
 what ye shall drink, nor yet for your body, what ye 
 shall put on ; " this is most clearly explained, a few 
 verses after, in these words : " Seek ye first the 
 kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these 
 things shall be added unto you." * The meaning, 
 therefore, of the precept is evidently this ; not that 
 we are absolutely to take no thought for our life, 
 and the means of supporting it ; but that our thoughts 
 are not to be wholly or principally occupied with 
 these things. We are not to indulge an immoderate 
 and unceasing anxiety and solicitude about them ; 
 for that, indeed, is the true meaning of the original 
 word fAtpifjivau. In our English Bible that word is 
 translated take no thought; but at the time when 
 our translation was made, that expression signified 
 only be not too careful. Our hearts, as it is expressed 
 in another place, are not to be overcharged with the 
 cares of this lifef, so as to exclude all other con- 
 cerns, even those of religion. 
 
 In the same manner with respect to pleasures, we 
 are not forbid to have any love for them ; we are 
 * Matt. vi. 25. 33. t Luke, xxL 34.
 
 48 Christ's Sermon on t/te Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 only commanded not to be lovers of pleasure more 
 than lovers of God. * 
 
 When, therefore, it is said, ye cannot serve God 
 and mammon, the point contended for in respect to 
 God is not exclusive possession, but exclusive do- 
 minion. Other things may occasionally, for a cer- 
 tain time, and to a certain degree, have possession 
 of our minds, but they must not rule, they must not 
 reign over them. We cannot serve two masters ; 
 we can serve but one faithfully and effectually, and 
 that one must be God. The concerns and comforts 
 of this life may have their due place in our hearts, 
 but they must not aspire to the first; this is the 
 prerogative of religion alone ; religion must be su- 
 preme and paramount over all. Every one, it has 
 been often said, has his ruling passion. The ruling 
 passion of the Christian must be the love of his 
 Maker and Redeemer. This it is which must prin- 
 cipally occupy his thoughts, his time, his attention, 
 his heart. If there be any thing else which has 
 gained the ascendency over our souls, on which our 
 desires, our wishes, our hopes, our fears, are chiefly 
 fixed, God is then dispossessed of his rightful domi- 
 nion over us ; we serve another master, and we shall 
 think but little of our Maker, or any thing belonging 
 to him. 
 
 His empire over our hearts must, in short, at all 
 events be maintained. When this point is once se- 
 cured, every inferior gratification that is consistent 
 with his sovereignty, his glory, and his commands, 
 
 * 2 Tim. iii. 4.
 
 PORTEUS.] Chris? s Sermon on the Mount. 49 
 
 is perfectly allowable ; every thing that is hostile to 
 them must at once be renounced. 
 
 This is a plain rule, and a very important one. 
 It is the principle which our blessed Lord meant 
 here to establish, and it must be the governing 
 principle of our lives. 
 
 Next to this in importance is another command, 
 which you will find in the 12th verse of the seventh 
 chapter ; " All things whatsoever ye would that men 
 should do to you, do ye even so to them ; for this is 
 the law and the prophets." As the former precepts 
 which we have been considering relate to God, this 
 relates to man ; it is the grand ' rule by which we 
 must in all cases regulate our conduct towards our 
 neighbour; and it is a rule, plain, simple, concise, 
 intelligible, comprehensive, and every way worthy 
 of its divine Author. Whenever we are deliberating 
 how we ought to act towards our neighbour in any 
 particular instance, we must for a moment change 
 situations with him in our own minds, we must 
 place him in our circumstances, and ourselves in 
 his, and then whatever we should wish him to do to 
 us, that we are to do to him. This is a process, in 
 which, if we act fairly and impartially, we can never 
 be mistaken. Our own feelings will determine our 
 conduct at once better than all the casuists in the 
 world. 
 
 But before we entirely quit the consideration of 
 this precept, we must take some notice of the ob- 
 servation subjoined to it, which will require a little 
 explanation. 
 
 VOL. i. E
 
 50 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 " Whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
 you, do ye even so to them ; for this is the law and 
 the prophets." 
 
 The concluding clause, this is the law and tlie pro- 
 phets, has by some been interpreted to mean, this is 
 the sum and substance of all religion ; as if religion 
 consisted solely in behaving justly and kindly to our 
 fellow-creatures, and beyond this no other duty was 
 required at our hands. But this conclusion is as 
 groundless as it is dangerous and unscripturaL 
 
 There are duties surely of another order, equally 
 necessary at least, and equally important with those 
 we owe to our neighbour. 
 
 There are duties, in the first place, owing to our 
 Creator, whom we are bound to honour, to venerate, 
 to worship, to obey, and to love with all our hearts 
 and souls, and mind and strength. There are du- 
 ties owing to our Redeemer, of affection, attachment, 
 gratitude, faith in his divine mission, and reliance 
 on the atonement he made for us on the cross. 
 There are, lastly, acts of discipline and self-govern- 
 ment to be exercised over our corrupt propensities 
 and irregular desires. Accordingly in the very 
 chapter we have just been considering, we are com- 
 manded to seek first the kingdom of God and his 
 righteousness. We are in another place informed, 
 that the love of God is the first and great command- 
 ment, and the love of our neighbour only the second ; 
 and we are .taught by St. James, that one main 
 branch of religion is to keep ourselves unspotted
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ s Sermon on the Mount. 51 
 
 from the world.* It is impossible, therefore, that 
 our blessed Lord could here mean to say, that our 
 duty towards our neighbour was the whole of his 
 religion ; he says nothing in fact of his religion ; he 
 speaks only of the Jewish religion, the laiv and the 
 prophets, and of these he only says, that one of the 
 great objects they have in view, is to inculcate that 
 same equitable conduct towards our brethren which 
 he here recommended, f 
 
 Let no one then indulge the vain imagination, 
 that a just, and generous, and compassionate con- 
 duct towards his fellow-creatures constitutes the 
 whole of his duty, and will compensate for the want 
 of every other Christian virtue. 
 
 This is a most fatal delusion ; and yet in the pre- 
 sent times a very common one. Benevolence is the 
 favourite, the fashionable virtue of the age : it is 
 universally cried up by infidels and libertines as the 
 first and only duty of man ; and even many who pre- 
 tend to the name of Christians, are too apt to rest 
 upon it as the most essential part of their religion, 
 and the chief basis of their title to the rewards of 
 the Gospel. But that Gospel, as we have just seen, 
 prescribes to us several other duties, which require 
 from us the same attention as those we owe to our 
 neighbour ; and if we fail in any of them, we can 
 have no hope of sharing in the benefits procured for 
 us by the sacrifice of our Redeemer. What then 
 
 * James, i. 27. 
 
 f See chap. xxii. 40. Rom. xiii. S. Gal. v. 14., and Gro- 
 tius on this verse. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [BISHOP 
 
 God and nature, as well as Christ and his apostles, 
 have joined together, let no man dare to put asunder. 
 Let no one flatter himself with obtaining the rewards, 
 or even escaping the punishments, of the Gospel, by 
 performing only one branch of his duty ; nor let him 
 ever suppose, that under the shelter of benevolence 
 he can either on the one hand evade the first and 
 great command, the love of his Maker; or on the 
 other hand, that he can securely indulge his fa- 
 vourite passions, can compound as it were with God 
 for his sensuality by acts of generosity, and purchase 
 by his wealth a general licence to sin. This may be 
 very good pagan morality, may be very good modern 
 philosophy, but it is not Christian godliness. 
 
 As it is my purpose to touch only on the most 
 important and most generally useful parts of our 
 Saviour's discourse, I shall pass over what remains of 
 it, and hasten to the conclusion, which is expressed 
 by the sacred historian in these words : " And it 
 came to pass, that when Jesus had finished these 
 sayings, the people were astonished at his doctrine ; 
 for he taught them as one having authority, and not 
 as the scribes." * Both his matter and his manner 
 were infinitely beyond any thing they had ever heard 
 before. He did not, like the heathen philosophers, 
 entertain his hearers with dry metaphysical dis- 
 courses on the nature of the supreme good, and the 
 several divisions and subdivisions of virtue ; nor did 
 he, like the Jewish rabbies, content himself with 
 dealing out ceremonies and traditions, with dis- 
 
 * Mart. vii. 28, 29.
 
 PORTEUS.] Christ's Sermon on the Mount. 53 
 
 coursing on mint and cummin, and estimating the 
 breadth of a phylactery ; but he drew off their at- 
 tention from these trivial and contemptible things, 
 to the greatest and the noblest objects ; the exist- 
 ence of one supreme Almighty Being, the Creator, 
 Preserver, and Governor of the universe ; the first 
 formation of man ; his fall from original innocence ; 
 the consequent corruption and depravity of his 
 nature ; the remedy provided for him by the good- 
 ness of our Maker and the death of our Redeemer ; 
 the nature of that divine religion which he 1 himself 
 came to reveal to mankind ; the purity of heart and 
 sanctity of life which he required ; the communica- 
 tions of God's Holy Spirit to assist our own feeble 
 endeavours here, and a crown of immortal glory to 
 recompense us hereafter. 
 
 The morality he taught was the purest, the 
 soundest, the sublimest, the most perfect, that had 
 ever before entered into the imagination or pro- 
 ceeded from the lips of man. And this he delivered 
 in a manner the most striking and impressive ; in 
 short, sententious, solemn, important, ponderous rules 
 and maxims, or in familiar, natural, affecting simili- 
 tudes and parables. He showed also a most con- 
 summate knowledge of the human heart, and dragged 
 to light all its artifices, subtleties, and evasions. He 
 discovered every thought as it arose in the mind ; 
 he detected every irregular desire before it ripened 
 into action. He manifested at the same time the 
 most perfect impartiality. He had no respect of 
 persons. He reproved vice in every station wherever 
 E 3
 
 54 Christ's Sermon on the Mount. [PORTEUS. 
 
 he found it, with the same freedom and boldness; 
 and he added to the whole the weight, the irresistible 
 weight, of his own example. He, and he only, of all 
 the sons of men, acted up in every the minutest 
 instance to what he taught ; and his life exhibited 
 a perfect portrait of his religion. But what com- 
 pleted the whole was, that he taught, as the evan- 
 gelist expresses it, " with authority," with the 
 authority of a divine teacher. The ancient philo- 
 sophers could do nothing more than give good advice 
 to their followers ; they had no means of enforcing 
 that advice ; but our great Lawgiver's precepts are 
 all DIVINE COMMANDS. He spoke in the name of 
 God : he called himself the Son of God. He spoke 
 in a tone of superiority and authority, which no one 
 before had the courage or the right to assume : and 
 finally, he enforced every thing he taught by the 
 most solemn and awful sanctions, by a promise of 
 eternal felicity to those who obeyed him, and a de- 
 nunciation of the most tremendous punishment to 
 those who rejected him. 
 
 These were the circumstances which gave our 
 blessed Lord the authority with which he spake. No 
 wonder then that the people " were astonished at his 
 doctrines ; and that they all declared he spake as 
 never man spake."* 
 
 * John, vii. 46.
 
 CHARLES JAMES BLOMFIELD, D.D. 
 
 BISHOP OF LONDON. 
 
 From a Volume entitled " Sermons preached in the Parish 
 Church of St. Botolph Bishopsgate. By Charles James 
 Blomfield, D.D. Rector, now Bishop of London. 1829."
 
 <BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion* 57 
 
 CHOICE OF A RELIGION. 
 
 JOSHUA, xxiv. 15. 
 
 And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you thu 
 day whom ye will serve. 
 
 \\ HEN Joshua gave this direction to the children 
 of Israel, he did not intend to say, that they were at 
 liberty to choose between the gods whom their 
 fathers, in times of ignorance, had served, or the 
 gods of the Amorites, and the Lord who had de- 
 livered them out of Egypt, as though no very im- 
 portant consequences depended upon the choice ; 
 but that it was necessary for them to adopt a de- 
 cided line of conduct ; and either to devote them- 
 selves in good earnest to the service of Jehovah ; 
 or to be considered as choosing the service of " other 
 gods," whom their fathers had served, who " dwelt 
 on the other side of the flood in old time * ; " to 
 follow the idoktrous practices of the people amongst 
 whom they lived ; and to take the consequences. 
 It was as if he had said, You may perhaps repine 
 at the strictness of that law which the Lord has 
 imposed upon you, the burdensome ceremonies, 
 and multiplied observances, which it requires. If 
 
 * Josh. iv. 2.
 
 58 Choice of a Religion. [BISHOP 
 
 you think that these are not more than counter- 
 balanced by the advantage of having the Lord him- 
 self for your king and protector, you can, and pro- 
 bably will give way, to the idolatrous errors and 
 abominable indulgences of your heathen neighbours. 
 Be it so : you will then have made your choice, and 
 you know what reward to expect. But do not 
 flatter yourselves that you can serve both the true 
 God, and the gods of the Amorites, at one and the 
 same time ; the two services are utterly incom- 
 patible. Therefore make your choice once and for 
 all. Mine is already made : " as for me and my 
 house, we will serve the Lord. And the people 
 answered and said ; God forbid that we should 
 forsake the Lord to serve other gods." 
 
 I come now at once to the application of this 
 text ; and intend to show, that what Joshua called 
 upon the children of Israel to do, must be done by 
 every reasonable creature ; at least, by every one 
 who has ever heard of revealed religion. To all 
 such, it is the language of reason, as well as of 
 the Scriptures, as soon as they are able to discern 
 between moral good and evil; " Choose you this 
 day whom ye will serve." 
 
 Unless a man is certain, which he never can be, 
 that his soul wfll perish together with his body, 
 religion can never be a matter of indifference to 
 him. In any case he must choose between religion 
 and no religion. Even the people of the heathen 
 world, who had no knowledge of revelation, had yet 
 such a knowledge of God, as rendered them account-
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 59 
 
 able to him for their actions; and consequently 
 made it imperative upon them to choose their reli- 
 gion ; and for choosing wrongly they incurred the 
 just displeasure of the Most High ; " because, when 
 they knew God, they glorified him not as God, 
 neither were thankful but became vain in their 
 imaginations and changed the glory of the in- 
 corruptible God into an image made like to cor- 
 ruptible man, and to birds, and to four-footed beasts, 
 and to creeping things." * 
 
 It is evident, that if God has been pleased to 
 make a revelation of his will and purposes to man- 
 kind, that revelation is the only sure guide to which 
 they can look in matters of religion. If God has 
 told them that they must believe certain truths, 
 and practise certain duties, in order to secure his 
 favour, no man can expect to escape his just anger, 
 who disbelieves, or disobeys his words : and if there 
 be in the world any religion, which is authenticated 
 by sufficient evidence, as having been revealed to 
 mankind by God, it cannot possibly be a matter of 
 indifference with any man, to whom that religion is 
 proposed, whether he receive it or not. No reason- 
 able being is at liberty to pass it by, as of no im- 
 portance ; or to say, that he will not trouble himself 
 to consider whether it be true or false. For the 
 question, whether it be true, involves another most 
 awful one, that of salvation or condemnation ; and 
 he who refuses to look at it, or neglects to walk by 
 it, does yet in effect make his choice : he chooses 
 
 Rom. i. 21. I
 
 60 Choice of a Religion. [BISHOP 
 
 for himself condemnation. When the souls of all 
 mankind shall be assembled before the judgment- 
 seat of Christ, none may appeal from that tribunal, 
 upon the plea, that they never considered the law 
 of God proposed for their acceptance, nor made any 
 choice of religion. The not having done so is itself 
 a sin deserving of punishment. 
 
 There are various grounds of conviction and be- 
 lief, upon which religion may be embraced. All 
 men are not affected in like manner by the same 
 arguments and motives ; but there must always be 
 conviction and belief; there must always be a choice. 
 If religion be embraced at all, it must be both by the 
 understanding and the heart. It requires sacrifices ; 
 it promises rewards : the will must be interested in 
 the question ; and therefore there must be a choice. 
 We say, then, that unless a man have chosen his 
 religion, he has, in fact, no available religion at all ; 
 and we fear this is the case with too many persons 
 in the world. It is to be feared that there are 
 many, who have never seriously laid this question 
 to heart, " What must we do to be saved ? " for that 
 is in fact the same thing as considering what religion 
 we shall choose. 
 
 When Christianity was a new religion, and before 
 it was firmly established and extensively received ; 
 while the profession of the Gospel was attended 
 with great peril of persecution, and even of death, 
 those persons who embraced it, did so upon deli- 
 berate consideration and conviction : it was with 
 them a matter of the most serious and determined
 
 BLOMFJELD.] Choice of Religion. 61 
 
 choice. On the one hand, Jesus Christ invited them 
 to escape from the wrath to come ; to repent and 
 believe in him, and be saved. On the other hand, 
 the world held out, not only its present enjoyments 
 to those who adhered to it, but its menaces of po- 
 verty and persecution to those who renounced it : 
 and although many remained in the service of the 
 world, without paying any attention to the message 
 delivered to them from God, yet all who did take 
 up the cross must have done so from conviction and 
 choice. But no such alternative is now presented 
 to those who live in a country which has for many 
 ages received the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Chris- 
 tianity is no longer persecuted; it is not even 
 denied or called in question, except by a few miser- 
 able sinners, who have no influence upon public 
 opinion. So that in fact there is no question raised, 
 at least men are not compelled to make an open 
 choice, between Christianity and any other religion. 
 But one evil consequence, which results from this 
 general and unresisted predominance of Christianity, 
 is this ; that men become Christians as a matter of 
 course, without enquiring why they are so ; and, 
 consequently, without a thorough understanding of 
 that great and vital truth, that " there is none other 
 name under heaven given among men whereby we 
 may be saved," but only the name of the Lord 
 Jesus. 
 
 Now we maintain, that religion is still a matter oJ 
 choice. If you are not called upon to choose be- 
 tween Christianity and paganism, or any other false
 
 62 Choice of a Religion. LBISHOP 
 
 religion ; yet still you must make your election be- 
 tween Christ and the world ; between a carnal and 
 a spiritual state : and it must be a deliberate choice; 
 made after a due consideration of the advantages 
 which each has to offer ; or at least from a sincere 
 feeling of heart which prompts you to prefer cut- 
 to the other. A state of careless neutrality is not 
 permitted ; " he that is not with me," said our Sa- 
 viour, " is against me ; and he that gathereth not 
 with me, scattereth." * He who is not decidedly a 
 Christian, is no Christian at all ; at least as far as 
 his own prospects of salvation are concerned. All 
 attempts to compromise the question, and to serve 
 Christ, just so far as his service does not interfere 
 with that of the world, will be fruitless ; " ye cannot 
 serve God and mammon." 
 
 Yet we see too much reason to fear, that this is 
 the actual state of a very great number of profess- 
 ing Christians. They are well content to bear that 
 name ; and see no reason why they should lay it 
 aside. It subjects them to no particular incon- 
 venience ; they take good care that it shall not 
 debar them from any of the profitable or honour- 
 able things of this world; nor from many of its 
 customary pleasures. They attend, with decent 
 regularity, the ordinances of their religion, except 
 such as they imagine may require of them a more 
 than ordinary degree of self-denial : and thus they 
 endeavour to make Christianity, which is the purest, 
 the most uncompromising, the most heart-control- 
 
 * Matt. sii. SO.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 63 
 
 ling of all religions, compatible with just as much 
 pleasure and indulgence as is not inconsistent with 
 outward decency. This profane hypocrisy, or, to 
 call it by a gentler name, this miserable self-deceit, 
 in the most important of all concerns, arises simply 
 from this; that such men have never made choice 
 of their religion. They never " choose whom they 
 will serve." 
 
 Ask of yourselves whether it be not so. To some, 
 at least, of those who hear me I may propose the 
 question, Have you ever, since you have arrived at 
 years of discretion, applied yourselves in good earnest 
 to consider whether you should embrace religion or 
 not ? Have you ever taken a careful and deliberate 
 survey of the various paths, which profess to conduct 
 mankind to happiness, and selected that which leads 
 to life eternal ? When was it that you retired within 
 yourselves, to meditate upon the certainty of your 
 being accountable to an almighty and omniscient 
 God, for every part of your conduct, and to consider 
 by what methods you might hope to escape from 
 his just indignation ? Did you ever say to yourselves, 
 " I know that I must inevitably go either to heaven 
 " or to hell ; that the strait path and the wide way 
 " are both before me to choose, and that choose I 
 " must? I know that I may be saved by Jesus 
 " Christ ; for he is ' the way, the truth, and the 
 " life * ; no man cometh unto the Father but by 
 ." him : ' but then I must come unto him heartily and 
 " resolutely. I am sure that I cannot be saved by 
 
 * John, xiv. 6.
 
 64? Choice of a Religion. [BISHOP 
 
 " the world ; because the world and all that it con- 
 " tains will pass away, and the ' very elements will 
 " melt with fervent heat,' when my soul shall receive 
 " its eternal doom from the mouth of the supreme 
 " Judge. Nothing can make amends to me for the 
 " loss of life eternal : for ' what is a man profited, if 
 " he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? ' * 
 " On the other hand, if I determine to embrace the 
 " Gospel, and to follow Jesus Christ, I know that I 
 " must submit to many temporal inconveniences ; 
 " to much self-denial at least, perhaps to much en- 
 " durance, and many costly sacrifices. Can I make 
 " up my mind to relinquish those indulgences, for 
 " which the natural man pleads so strongly, rather 
 " than injure the welfare of my immortal soul ? Can 
 " I resolve to despise the scoffs of profane com- 
 " panions, the false opinions of the world, the sor- 
 " did pursuit of gain, the charms of convivial inter- 
 ** course, the reputation of talent, and more than all 
 " this, rather than swerve, in the slightest degree, 
 " from my Christian integrity ? Can I do all this ? 
 " and what is more, do I feel, in the very depth of 
 " my heart, my own sinfulness of nature and in- 
 " firmity of purpose ? Am I prepared to lay aside 
 " all overweening confidence in my own wisdom 
 " and goodness, and to ' receive with meekness ' the 
 " revealed word and will of God, and his free, unre- 
 " quited mercy ; and to seek for his grace by all 
 " the appointed means? Dare I engage myself, by 
 " a solemn compact and covenant with the Searcher 
 * Matt. xvi. 26.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 65 
 
 " of hearts to do, .or to attempt all this ? Shall I 
 " make religion my choice, and from henceforth 
 " consign myself unreservedly and implicitly to the 
 " service of Jesus Christ, and the guidance of his 
 " Holy Spirit ? Yes, verily, by God's help I will." 
 
 Have any such thoughts as these at any time oc- 
 cupied your minds, and produced their due im- 
 pression on your hearts? Some process of this 
 kind must be gone through, before your religion 
 can be such as may be depended upon ; before you 
 can be genuine, consistent disciples of that Master, 
 who claims your best affections, your undivided 
 allegiance. This is an act of choice ; such an act 
 as will be likely to fix religious principles in your 
 heart ; to fit it for the reception of grace ; and to 
 prepare you for every good word and work. The 
 want of such an act is discernible in the inconsist- 
 ency of men's practice with their outward profes- 
 sion of the Gospel, their cold and heartless prayers, 
 their unfrequent and negligent reading of God's 
 word, their disregard of his ordinances, their exces- 
 sive love of pleasure and amusement, or their exclu- 
 sive devotion to worldly business. Whensoever 
 these symptoms are plainly discoverable, there has 
 been no choice of religion. 
 
 But, again I repeat it, the choice must be made. 
 It must be made some time or other. If it has 
 been forgotten or neglected in early life, it must be 
 made at a later period ; and will be made, when 
 once the heart is really touched with a sense of its 
 own condition and its wants. But it ought undoubt- 
 
 VOL. i. F
 
 66 Choice of a Religion. [BISHOP 
 
 edly to be made in the morning of life ; as soon as 
 the reason is sufficiently matured to discern between 
 good and evil. One of the most touching features 
 of the commendation bestowed by St. Paul upon 
 his youthful friend, is this ; " From a child thou 
 hast known the Scriptures, which are able to make 
 thee wise unto salvation, through faith which is in 
 Jesus Christ." * 
 
 Religion is the proper business of our whole lives. 
 We are placed in this world for the express purpose 
 of being religious ; and every part of our existence, 
 which is not employed in the business, either of 
 preparation, or of actual religion, is so much time 
 lost. Every person to whom the Gospel is proposed, 
 as the way of salvation, ought very early to give it 
 his most serious consideration, and to " choose whom 
 " he will serve." It is too much the fault of parents 
 that this is not done more frequently and more se- 
 riously than it is: and it is indeed a fault a sin I 
 should say of no trifling magnitude. What a 
 strange and sad inconsistency there is in the conduct 
 of many Christian parents ! They know perfectly 
 well that there is nothing in the world of so great 
 consequence to their children as that they should 
 be fixed betimes in religious principles and habits ; 
 and yet they take little or no pains to effect it. 
 They are for the most part contented to leave the 
 religious instruction of their children to their teachers 
 and spiritual pastors ; .whereas it is their own parti- 
 cular and 'sacred province to watch, with jealous 
 
 2 Tim. iii. 15.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 67 
 
 care, over the growth of principles and motives in 
 the minds of their children ; to give them an early 
 insight into the peculiar doctrines and duties of the 
 Gospel ; to direct their attention, while young, to 
 the immense difference between things temporal 
 and things eternal ; and to familiarize them, even ia 
 their childhood, with their holy but merciful and 
 kind Redeemer. 
 
 But, alas ! the usual course of education, usual 
 tenour of parental instruction, is not much cal- 
 culated to produce religious seriousness. The young 
 Christian is accustomed to hear a great deal con- 
 cerning the advantages and enjoyments of the 
 present life, and the best mode of securing them for 
 himself. * These are the ordinary subjects of con- 
 versation, the objects at which all the world seem 
 to be aiming : the tide and current of human life, 
 and the breath of popular opinion, are all moving in 
 one direction. Christian parents manifest great 
 anxiety, and take infinite pains, to place their sons 
 in lucrative situations ; and if a young man is fixed 
 in a post which gives him a fair prospect of a pro- 
 vision after a few years, his friends think they have 
 done their duty, and for the rest he must look out 
 for himself. But does he perceive any thing of the 
 same watchful solicitude about the concerns of his 
 soul? Do his parents exhibit the same intense anxiety 
 respecting his choice of the religion upon which his 
 salvation depends, as they manifest about his election 
 of a business or profession ? Is it made a topic of 
 
 * See Paley's Sermons, p. 7. 
 F 2
 
 68 Clurice of a Religion. [BISHOP 
 
 rejoicing and congratulation, if he should give de- 
 cided evidence of his having, like Mary, " chosen 
 the good part ? " Alas ! the contrary is notori- 
 ously the case. 
 
 Why does it happen, that when the Church invites 
 her younger members to come forward, and make an 
 open profession of their allegiance to Jesus Christ, 
 and of their devotion to his service, " Choose this 
 day whom ye will serve," so many still hang back, 
 from ignorant timidity or bashfulness, or from a 
 worse cause, an entire carelessness and unconcern ? 
 Why, but because they have never been made to 
 feel the indispensable importance, the absolute ne- 
 cessity of choosing their religion once for all ? and 
 the fault rests too commonly with their parents. Yet 
 it is the duty of their parents, in a far higher degree 
 than it is the duty of their minister, to make their 
 children Christians in understanding, and on prin- 
 ciple, as well as by name. What a dreadful respons- 
 ibility is theirs, who neglect any probable means of 
 putting their children into the way of salvation ! 
 What anguish will pierce their hearts, if at the 
 judgment-day their child shall cry out against them, 
 My father and my mother forsook me ; they kept 
 me back from Christ ; they gave me no preservative 
 against sin ; I perish by their neglect ! 
 
 But it is no less incumbent upon you, Christian 
 masters and heads of families, to direct your ser- 
 vants, and the younger inmates of your house, in the 
 choice of their religion. When Joshua had pro- 
 posed to the children of Israel, in the words of the
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 69 
 
 text, " Choose you this day whom ye will serve," 
 he concluded by declaring, " as for me and my house- 
 hold, we will serve the Lord." It is a part, a most 
 important part of your duty towards your servant, 
 to assist them, either by your own instructions, or 
 by procuring for them that of others, in forming 
 clear and active notions of religion. It is a part of 
 the duty which you owe to the Church, of which you 
 are members, to bring them into her bosom, and to 
 enable them to profit by her ordinances and means 
 of grace. 
 
 To you, my younger friends, let me say, with all 
 the earnestness and sincerity of a real concern for 
 your salvation, " Choose you this day whom ye will 
 serve." You are old enough to discern between 
 the good and the evil : both are set before you ; and 
 God expects that you will make your choice. Do 
 not flatter yourselves that you can remain, for a 
 certain number of years, in a state of neutrality and 
 indifference, and then make your election ; for that 
 will be in effect choosing at once to serve the world 
 rather than Christ ; and you will hereafter be not only 
 less qualified, but less inclined to enter into the service 
 of your Redeemer. Remember, that you have been 
 already solemnly dedicated to him ; given to him ; 
 redeemed from your lost state ; made capable of 
 sanctification, and, in due time, of advancement to 
 glory. This is the great purpose of your life, and 
 ought to be the main object of the whole and every 
 part of it. To choose between Christ and the world, 
 that is, the sinful pleasures of the world, is to choose, 
 F 3
 
 VO . C/toice of a Religion, [BISHOP 
 
 in all probability, between happiness and misery in 
 this life, but certainly between eternal bliss and woe 
 in that which is to come. If yon confess not Christ 
 before men, if you make not an open choice of the 
 Gospel, neither will he confess you before his Father 
 in heaven ; and if you mean to confess him at all, 
 which you must do, to be saved, can there be any 
 period of life so proper for it, as that, when you are 
 first able to form a right judgment of the privileges 
 and blessings which he offers to you? Believe me, 
 he expects you to come to him now ; to bring him 
 the first-fruits of your life ; to consecrate to him your 
 reason, yet unperverted; your affections, yet un- 
 corrupt : and in return, he will extend over you the 
 arm of his protecting love ; will pour his grace into 
 your hearts ; will give you a relish for the things of 
 God ; will enlighten you more and more in the 
 saving truths of his Gospel ; and will strengthen you 
 to withstand the trials to which your age is most 
 exposed. 
 
 But what I say to you, I say to all those who 
 have no fixed, and well considered, and heartfelt 
 principles of religion ; " Choose you this day whom 
 ye will serve." You think, perhaps, that you are 
 serving God : but it is not serving him, merely to 
 attend the ordinances of public worship, and to ab- 
 stain from the commission of the more flagrant sins, 
 unless you serve him on principle; from a steady 
 regard to his honour, and a sense of gratitude for 
 the mercies which he has wrought for you in Jesus 
 Christ. It is not serving him, unless you are con-
 
 BLOMFIELD.] Choice of a Religion. 71 
 
 sistent in your profession and practice ; devout in 
 your own closet and in the bosom of your family, as 
 well as at church ; diligent to read the word of 
 God as well as to hear it ; actively charitable and 
 beneficent, as well as strictly just and honest ; pure 
 and holy in your secret practice and thoughts, as 
 well as in outward appearance ; observant of all the 
 ordinances of religion, and not of some only, to the 
 neglect of others ; cheerfully and devoutly acknow- 
 ledging the unspeakable mercy of God in the work of 
 your redemption, not only in the ordinary solemnities 
 of public prayer, but in the more characteristic and 
 peculiar act of Christian worship, appointed by the 
 Lord Jesus himself. Certainly no man who has 
 really chosen his service, can refuse him that mark 
 of honour and thankfulness, or deny himself that 
 source of grace and strength. 
 
 May the Lord give us grace, seriously to con- 
 sider the actual state of our souls ; to feel the 
 necessity of choosing, sincerely and resolutely, whom 
 we shall serve ! May he take away from us all luke- 
 warmness and indifference, in the momentous question 
 of salvation, and dispose us by his grace to come 
 unto him once and for ever ! " Lord, to whom shall 
 we go ? thou hast the words of eternal life : and we 
 believe and are sure that thou art the Christ, the 
 Son of the living God.* Lo ! we forsake all and 
 follow thee ! " f 
 
 John, vi. 68. t Matt. xix. 27. 
 
 F 4-
 
 WILLIAM PALEY. 
 
 WILLIAM PALEY, among the recent boasts of the university 
 (Cambridge) in which he was educated, and among the brightest 
 ornaments of the country which gave him birth, was born at 
 Peterborough in 1743. Like bishop Porteus, he was a sizar 
 at Christ College, and took his first degree in 1763. He 
 afterwards became an assistant at an academy at Greenwich, 
 and curate of the parish ; but his taste and cast of studies little 
 suiting with the bustling avocations of such a situation, he 
 returned to Cambridge in 1765, and gained the first prize for an 
 Essay on the Comparative Merits of the Stoic and Epicurean 
 Philosophies. The year following he was elected Fellow of 
 his college, and took his master's degree. For the next ten 
 years he resided wholly at the university ; laying in that large 
 stock of general intellectual attainment, and cultivating in 
 particular that taste for close, ethical analysis, which gave such 
 a mastery in style, as well as in sentiment, over the subjects 
 on which his pen was afterwards exercised. In 1776 he was 
 inducted to the united vicarages of Dalston in Cumberland, and 
 Appleby in an adjoining county. In 1780 he became a pre-
 
 74f WILLIAM PALEY. 
 
 bendary at Carlisle; in 1782 archdeacon, and in 1785 chan- 
 cellor, of that diocese. In this latter year he published his fa- 
 mous work upon Moral and Political Philosophy : a work, which 
 was eagerly expected, and as eagerly criticised; which struck 
 out a new path in academical studies, and taught the great 
 reading mass of mankind how to reason upon the important 
 truths which it involved. This is not the place to descant upon 
 its multifarious merits : to say that it has long become a class- 
 book with the university where its author was educated, is to 
 speak in sufficiently limited terms of praise of its value. It is 
 a TEXT-BOOK, for the reading and meditation of all enlightened 
 minds and all virtuous hearts. 
 
 The fame acquired by this admirable performance made the 
 public look forward to every subsequent effort of its author 
 with increased delight ; and the Horas Paulina, which followed, 
 showed that they had good reason to be sanguine in their 
 expectations. Of all Paley's works, this is doubtless the 
 most original and convincing. The mutter of it may be con- 
 tained in a nut-shell ; but the mode in which that matter is 
 treated, the acute detection and powerful bearings of evidence 
 which it developes, is something perfectly out of the ordinary 
 mode of treatment of scriptural subjects. The logician admits 
 the force of its inferences : the Christian rejoices in the 
 triumphs of its truths. 
 
 Promotion, as well as general fame, quickly followed these 
 publications ; and the same year in which he was appointed to 
 the prebend of St. Pancras, in the diocese of London, Paley 
 put forth his Evidences of Christianity : a work of truly sterling 
 merit a standard book for students diligently to peruse, and 
 for proficients never to neglect. No candidate for holy orders 
 ought to be made to dispense with it. Christianity has few 
 human props of greater power than these " Evidences" of her 
 imperishable truths. In 1 795, after becoming sub-dean of Lin- 
 coln, Paley took his doctor's degree on obtaining the valuable 
 preferment of Bishop Wearmouth, where he wrote his last, 
 and not the least celebrated, of his works Natural Theology.
 
 WILLIAM PALEY. 75 
 
 The ground-plan of this work had been supplied by Derharn 
 (P/tysico- Theology) ; and the anatomy of Cheselden and Keill 
 furnished the principal physiological details from which our au- 
 thor's illustrations were drawn. But there was a boldness and 
 originality of manner in which he predicated upon his premises 
 that belonged peculiarly to himself; a style, without inversion 
 or obscurity every word occupying its precise and proper 
 place ; old truths wearing the alluring semblance of new ; and 
 deductions and conclusions drawn in all respects worthy of 
 the philosopher and the divine. This admirable work had a 
 great sale, and a widely and justly extended reputation. The 
 author survived its publication only ten years. 
 
 The SERMONS of Paley were chiefly a posthumous publica- 
 tion. They were preached to, as they were written for, a 
 country congregation ; they are therefore divested of studied 
 ornament of style, and elaboration of argument. But they 
 bear the peculiar impress of the author's own powerful and unso- 
 phisticated mind ; and for strength of conception, and clearness 
 and sometimes vigour of expression, it may be questioned 
 whether many passages in them have been ever surpassed. 
 They are not, strictly speaking, eloquent ; but there is a force, 
 as well as a novelty of treatment, in many of them, that put 
 them above all comparison. They are familiar without coarse- 
 ness, and terse without obscurity. Their main charm may be 
 said to consist in the simplicity and strength with which 
 religious and moral truths are handled ; the uncompromising 
 and straightforward manner in which human frailties and sins 
 are exposed ; the kindliness of exhortation to repentance and 
 godliness of living ; the power, purity, and comfort of the 
 Gospel-dispensation ; and, above all, the perfect absence of 
 fanaticism, of an overheated fancy, and of a persecuting spirit. 
 But these qualities, which so eminently distinguish the writer, 
 ought in some degree to possess the reader, of the sermons in 
 question. For the kindly reception of the scriptural truths 
 enforced by Paley, there must be nothing ascetic, nothing 
 morose nothing self-willed and intolerant, in the mind of him
 
 76 WILLIAM PALEY. 
 
 who sets himself in right earnest to the task of their perusal. 
 In like manner, all highly wrought, impassioned, and uncon- 
 trollable emotions, which carry the infatuated understanding 
 into a wide and wild sea of doubt and distraction, must be 
 absent from the reader. It cannot be dissembled that, when 
 read with a proper spirit, we rise from the perusal of Paley's 
 Sermons not less convinced of the necessity of putting a guard 
 upon the unruliness of our passions, than of living in peace, 
 good will, and brotherly love with all mankind. 
 
 It remains to be seen how the two sermons here selected jus- 
 tify the eulogies conferred upon their author.
 
 Taste for Devotion. 77 
 
 TASTE FOR DEVOTION. 
 
 JOHN, iv. 23, 24. 
 
 But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall 
 worship the Father in spirit and in tiulh : for the Father seeketk 
 siich to worship him. God is a spirit ; and they that worship 
 him, must worship him in sjririt and in truth. 
 
 A. TASTE and relish for religious exercise, or the 
 want of it, is one of the marks and tokens by which 
 we may judge whether our heart be right towards 
 God or not. God is unquestionably an object of 
 devotion to every creature, which he has made 
 capable of devotion ; consequently, our minds can 
 never be right towards him, unless they be in a 
 devotional frame. It cannot be disputed, but that 
 the author and giver of all things, upon whose will 
 and whose mercy we depend for every thing we 
 have, and for every thing we look for, ought 'to live 
 in the thoughts and affections of his rational crea- 
 tures. " Through thee have I been holden up ever 
 since I was born : thou art he that took me from 
 my mother's womb : my praise shall be always of 
 thee." If there be such things as first sentiments 
 towards God, these words of the Psalmist express 
 them. That devotion to God is a duty, stands upon 
 the same proof as that God exists. But devotion is
 
 78 Taste for Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 an act of the mind strictly. In a certain sense, 
 duty to a fellow-creature may be discharged, if the 
 outward act be performed, because the benefit to 
 him depends upon the act. Not so with devotion. 
 It is altogether the operation of the mind. God is 
 a spirit, and must be worshipped in spirit, that is, 
 in mind and thought. The devotion of the mind 
 may be, will be, ought to be testified and accom- 
 panied by outward performances and expressions : 
 but, without the mind going along with it, no form, 
 
 no solemnity can avail, as a service to God The 
 
 question is, whether their mind, and thoughts, and 
 affections, accompany the mode which men adopt, or 
 not. I do not say, that modes of worship are indif- 
 ferent things ; for certainly one mode may be more 
 rational, more edifying, more pure than another; 
 but they are indifferent in comparison with the 
 question, whether the heart attend the worship, or 
 be estranged from it. 
 
 These two points, then, being true ; first, that de- 
 votion is a duty ; secondly, that the heart must par- 
 ticipate to make any thing we do devotion ; it fol- 
 lows that the heart cannot be right toward God, 
 unless it be possessed with a taste and relish for his 
 service, and for what relates to it. 
 
 Men may, and many undoubtedly do, attend upon 
 actg of religious worship, and even from religious 
 motives, yet, at the same time, without this taste 
 and relish, of which we are speaking. Religion has, 
 no savour for them. I do not allude to the case of 
 those who attend upon the public worship of the
 
 PALEY.] Taste for Devotion. 79 
 
 church, or of their communion, from compliance 
 with custom, merely out of regard to station, for 
 example's sake merely, from habit merely ; still less 
 to the case of those, who have particular worldly 
 views for so doing. I lay the case of such persons 
 for the present out of the question, and I consider 
 only the case of those, who, knowing and believing 
 the worship of God to be a duty, and that the wilful 
 neglect of this, as of other duties, must look forward 
 to future punishment, do join in worship from a 
 principle of obedience, from a consideration of those 
 consequences, which will follow disobedience ; from 
 the fear, indeed, of God, and the dread of his judg- 
 ments (and so far from motives of religion), yet 
 without any taste or relish for religious exercise 
 itself. That is the case I am considering. It is not 
 for us to presume to speak harshly of any conduct 
 which proceeds, in any manner, from a regard to 
 God, and the expectation of a future judgment. 
 God, in his Scriptures, holds out to man terrors, as 
 well as promises ; punishment after death, as well 
 as reward. Undoubtedly he intended those motivesj 
 which he himself proposes, to operate and have 
 their influence. Wherever they operate, good en- 
 sues ; very great and important good, compared 
 with the cases in which they do not operate ; yet 
 not all the good we would desire, not all which is 
 attainable, not all which we ought to aim at, in our 
 Christian course. The fear of the Lord is the be- 
 ginning of knowledge ; but calling it the beginning
 
 80 Taste for Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 implies that we ought to proceed further ; namely, 
 from his fear to his love. 
 
 To apply this distinction to the subject before us ; 
 the man who serves God from a dread of his dis- 
 pleasure, and, therefore, in a certain sense, by con- 
 straint, is, beyond all comparison, in a better situ- 
 ation, as touching his salvation, than he who defies 
 this dread, and breaks through this constraint. He, 
 in a word, who obeys, from whatever motive his 
 obedience springs, provided it be a religious motive, 
 is of a character, as well as in a condition, infinitely 
 preferable to the character and condition of the 
 man, whom no motives whatever can induce to per- 
 form his duty. Still it is true, that if he feels not 
 within himself a taste and relish for the service 
 which he performs, (to say nothing of the consider- 
 ation, how much less acceptable his service may 
 be,) and for devotion itself, he wants one satisfactory 
 evidence of his heart being right towards God. A 
 further progress in religion will give him this evi- 
 dence, but it is not yet attained : as yet, therefore, 
 there is a great deficiency. 
 
 The taste and relish for devotion, of which we 
 are speaking, is what good men, in all ages, have 
 felt strongly. It appears in their history : it appears 
 in their writings. The book of Psalms, in par- 
 ticular, was, great part of it, composed under the 
 impression of this principle. Many of the Psalms 
 are written in the truest spirit of devotion, and it is 
 one test of the religious frame of our own minds to 
 observe whether we have a relish for these com-
 
 PA LEY.] Taste for Devotion. 81 
 
 positions ; whether our hearts are stirred as we read 
 them ; whether we perceive in them words alone, a 
 mere letter, or so many grateful, gratifying senti- 
 ments towards God, in unison with what we our- 
 selves feel, or have before felt. And what we art- 
 saying of the book of Psalms, is true of many reli- 
 gious books, that are put into our hands, especially 
 books of devotional religion : which, though they 
 be human compositions, and nothing more, are of a 
 similar cast with the devotional writings of Scripture, 
 and excellently calculated for their purpose. * We 
 read of aged persons, who passed the greatest part 
 of their time in acts of devotion, and passed it with 
 enjoyment. " Anna, the prophetess, was of great 
 age, which departed not from the temple, but served 
 God with fastings and prayers night and day." 
 The first Christians, so far as can be gathered 
 from their history in the Acts of the Apostles and 
 the Epistles, as well as from the subsequent ac- 
 counts that are left of them, took great delight in 
 exercises of devotion. These seemed to form, in- 
 deed, the principal satisfaction of their lives in this 
 world. " Continuing daily with one accord in the 
 
 * Amongst these, I particularly recommend the prayers and 
 devotions annexed to the New Whole Duty of Man. Bishop 
 Burnet, in speaking of such kind of books, very truly says, 
 " By the frequent reading of these books, by the relish that 
 one has in them, by the delight they give, and the effects they 
 produce, a man will plainly perceive, whether his soul is made 
 for divine matters or not ; what suitableness there is between 
 him and them, and whether he is yet touched with such a sense 
 of religion as to be capable of dedicating himself to it." 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 Taste far Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 temple, and breaking bread," that is, celebrating 
 the holy communion, /' from house to house, they 
 eat their meat with gladness and singleness of 
 heart, praising God." In this spirit Christians 
 set out, finding the greatest gratification they were 
 capable of in acts and exercises of devotion. A 
 great deal of what is said in the New Testament, 
 by St. Paul in particular, about " rejoicing in the 
 Lord, rejoicing in the Holy Ghost, rejoicing in 
 hope, rejoicing in consolation, rejoicing in them- 
 selves, as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing," refer to 
 the pleasure and the high and spiritual comfort 
 which they found in religious exercises. Much, I 
 fear, of this spirit is fled. There is a coldness in 
 our devotions, which argues a decay of religion 
 amongst us. Is it true that men, in these days, 
 perform religious exercises as frequently as they 
 ought ; or as those did who have gone before us in 
 the Christian course? that is one question to be 
 asked : but there is also another question of still 
 greater importance, viz. Do they find in these per- 
 formances that gratification which the first and best 
 disciples of the religion actually found ? which they 
 ought to find, and which they would find, did they 
 possess the taste and relish concerning which we 
 are discoursing, and which if they do not possess, 
 they want one great proof of their heart being right 
 towards God. 
 
 If the spirit of prayer, as it is sometimes called, 
 if the taste and relish for devotion, if a devotional 
 frame of mind be within us, it will show itself in
 
 PALEYI] Taste for Devotion. 83 
 
 the turn and cast of our meditations, in the warmth, 
 and earnestness, and frequency of our secret appli- 
 cations to God in prayer ; in the deep, unfeigned, 
 heart-piercing, heart-sinking sorrow of our confes- 
 sions and our penitence ; in the sincerity of our gra- 
 titude and of our praise ; in our admiration of the 
 divine bounty to his creatures ; in our sense of par- 
 ticular mercies to ourselves. We shall pray much 
 in secret. We shall address ourselves to God of 
 our own accord, in our walks, our closet, our bed. 
 Form, in these addresses, will be nothing. Every 
 thing will come from the heart. We shall feed the 
 flame of devotion by continually returning to the 
 subject. No man, who is endued with the taste 
 and relish we speak of, will have God long out of 
 his mind. Under one view or other, God cannot be 
 long out of a devout mind. " Neither was God in all 
 his thoughts," is a true description of a complete 
 dereliction of religious principle ; but it can, by no 
 possibility, be the case with a man who has the spirit 
 of devotion, or any portion of that spirit, within him. 
 But it is not in our private religion alone that the 
 effect and benefit of this principle is perceived. The 
 true taste and relish we so much dwell upon will 
 bring a man to the public worship of God ; and, 
 what is more, will bring him in such a frame of 
 mind, as to enable him to join in it with effect ; with 
 effect as to his own soul ; with effect as to every 
 object, both public and private, intended by public 
 worship. Wanderings and forge tfuln ess, remissions 
 and intermissions of attention, there will be ; but 
 G 2
 
 84" Taste for Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 these will be fewer and shorter, in proportion as 
 more of this spirit is prevalent within us ; and some 
 sincere, some hearty, some deep, some true, and, as 
 we trust, acceptable service will be performed, be- 
 fore we leave the place ; some pouring forth of the 
 soul unto God in prayer and in thanksgiving ; in 
 prayer, excited by wants and weaknesses, I fear 
 also, by sins and neglects without number ; and in 
 thanksgivings, such as mercies, the most undeserved, 
 ought to call forth from a heart filled, as the heart 
 of man should be, with a thorough consciousness of 
 dependency and obligation. 
 
 All forms of public worship must, by their very 
 nature, be in a great degree general, that is, must 
 be calculated for the average condition of human 
 and of Christian life ; but it is one property of the 
 devotional spirit which we speak of, to give a par- 
 ticularity to our worship, though it be carried on in 
 a congregation of fellow-Christians, and expressed 
 in terms which were framed and conceived for the 
 use of all. 
 
 And it does this, by calling up recollections, which 
 will apply most closely, and bring home most nearly 
 to ourselves, those terms and those expressions. 
 For instance, in public worship, we thank God in 
 general terms, that is, we join with the congregation 
 in a general thanksgiving ; but a devout man brings 
 to church the recollection of special and particular 
 mercies, particular bounties, particular providences, 
 particular deliverances, particular relief recently ex- 
 perienced, specially and critically granted in the
 
 Taste for Devotion. 85' 
 
 moment of want or danger, or eminently and super- 
 eminently vouchsafed to us individually. These he 
 bears in his thoughts : he applies as he proceeds ; 
 that which was general he makes close and circum- 
 stantial ; his heart rises towards God, by a sense of 
 mercies vouchsafed to himself. He does not, how- 
 ever, confine himself to those favours of Providence 
 which he enjoys above many others, or more than 
 most others ; he does not dwell upon distinctions 
 alone ; he sees God in all his goodness, in all his 
 bounty. Bodily ease, for instance, is not less valu- 
 able, not less a mercy, because others are at ease as 
 well as himself. The same of his health, the use of 
 his limbs, the faculties of his understanding. But 
 what I mean is, that in his mind he brings to church 
 mercies in which he is interested, and that the most 
 general expressions of thankfulness attach with him 
 upon particular recollections of goodness particular 
 subjects of gratitude, so that the holy fervour of his 
 devotion is supported ; never wants, nor can want, 
 materials to act upon. It is the office, therefore, of 
 an internal spirit of devotion to make worship per" 
 sonal. We have seen that it will be so with thanks- 
 giving. It will be the same, likewise, with every 
 other part of divine worship. The confession of 
 sins in our liturgy, and perhaps in all liturgies, is 
 general; but our sins, alas! are particular: our 
 conscience not only acknowledges a deplorable weak- 
 ness and imperfection in the discharge of our duty, 
 but is stung also with remembrances and compunc- 
 tions, excited by particular offences. When we 
 G 3
 
 86 Taste for Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 come, therefore, to confess our sins, let memory do 
 its office faithfully. Let these sins rise up before 
 our eyes. All language is imperfect. Forms, in- 
 tended for general use, must consist of general terms, 
 and are so far inadequate. They may be rehearsed 
 by the lips with very little of application to our own 
 case. But this will never be so if the spirit of de- 
 votion be within us. A devout mind is exceedingly 
 stirred when it has sins to confess. None but a 
 hardened sinner can even think of his sins without 
 pain. But when he is to lay them, with supplica- 
 tions for pardon, before his Maker ; when he is to 
 expose his heart to God; it will always be with 
 powerful inward feelings of guilt and calamity. It 
 hath been well said of prayer, that prayer will either 
 make a man leave off sinning, or sin will make him 
 leave off prayer. And the same is true of confession. 
 If confession be sincere, if it be such as a right ca- 
 pacity for devotion will make it to be, it will call 
 up our proper and particular sins so distinctly to 
 our view, their guilt, their danger, their end ; whither 
 they are carrying us ; in what they will conclude ; 
 that, if we can return to them again without molest- 
 ation from our conscience, then religion is not within 
 us. If we have approached God in his worship so 
 ineffectually as to ourselves, it is because we have 
 not worshipped him in spirit ; we may say of all we 
 have done, " We drew near with our lips, but our 
 hearts were far from him." 
 
 What we have said concerning thanksgiving and 
 confession is likewise true of prayer universally. The
 
 PALEY.] Taste for Devotion. 87 
 
 spirit of devotion will apply our prayers to our wants. 
 In forms of worship, be they ever so well composed, 
 it is impossible to exhibit human wants otherwise 
 than in general expressions. But devotion will apply 
 them. It will teach every man, in the first place, to 
 know how indigent, how poor a creature, without a 
 continued exercise of mercy and supply of bounty 
 from God, he would be ; because when he begins to 
 enumerate his wants, he will be astonished at their 
 multitude. What are we, any of us, but a compli- 
 cation of wants, which we have not in ourselves the 
 power of supplying ? But, beside those numerous 
 wants, and that common helplessness, in which we 
 all partake, every man has his own sore, his own grief, 
 his own difficulties ; every man has some distress, 
 which he is suffering or fearing. Nay, were worldly 
 wishes satisfied, was worldly prosperity complete, he 
 has always what is of more consequence than worldly 
 prosperity to pray for, he has always his sins to pray 
 against. Where temporal wants are few, spiritual 
 wants are often the most and the greatest. The 
 grace of God is always wanted. His governing, his 
 preventing, his inspiring, his assisting grace is always 
 wanted. Here, therefore, is a subject for prayer, 
 were there no other ; a subject personally and indi- 
 vidually interesting in the highest degree ; a subject, 
 above all others, upon which the spirit of devotion 
 will be sure to fix. 
 
 I assign, therefore, as the first effect of a right 
 spirit of devotion, that it gives particularity to all our 
 worship. It applies and it appropriates. Forms of 
 G 4
 
 88 Taste far Devotion. [WILLIA.V 
 
 worship may be general ; but a spirit of devotion 
 brings them home, and close to each and every one. 
 
 One happy consequence of which is, that it pre- 
 vents the tediousness of worship. Things which in- 
 terest us are not tedious. If .we find worship tedious, 
 it is because it does not interest us as it ought to do. 
 We must allow (experience compels us to allow) for 
 wanderings and inattentions, as amongst the infirmi- 
 ties of our infirm nature: but, as I have already said, 
 even these will be fewer and shorter, in proportion 
 as we are possessed of the spirit of devotion. Weari- 
 ness will not be perceived, by reason of that succes- 
 sion of devout feelings and consciousnesses, which the 
 several offices of worship are calculated to excite. 
 If our heart be in the business, it will not be tedious. 
 If, in thanksgiving, it be lifted up by a sense of 
 mercies, and acknowledge from whom they proceed, 
 thanksgiving will be a grateful exercise, and not a 
 tedious form. What relates to our sins and wants, 
 though not of the same gratifying nature, though 
 accompanied with deep, nay, with afflicting cause 
 of humiliation and fear, must, nevertheless, be equally 
 interesting, or more so, because it is of equal con- 
 cernment to us, or of greater. In neither case, there- 
 fore, if our duty be performed as it ought to be, will 
 tediousness be perceived. 
 
 I say, that the spirit of devotion removes from the 
 worship of God the perception of tediousness, and 
 with that also every disposition to censure or cavil at 
 particular phrases or expressions used in public wor- 
 ship. All such faults, even if they be real, and such
 
 PA LEY.] Taste for Devotion. 89 
 
 observations upon them, are absorbed by the im- 
 mense importance of the business in which we are 
 engaged. Quickness in discovering blemishes of this 
 sort is not the gift of a pious mind ; still less either 
 levity or acrimony in speaking of them. 
 
 Moreover, the spirit of devotion reconciles us to 
 repetitions. In other subjects repetition soon be- 
 comes tiresome and offensive : in devotion it is dif- 
 ferent. Deep, earnest, heartfelt devotion naturally 
 vents itself in repetition. Observe a person racked 
 by excruciating bodily pain ; or a person suddenly 
 struck with the news of some dreadful calamity ; or 
 a person labouring under some cutting anguish of 
 soul ; and you will always find him breaking out into 
 ejaculations, imploring from God support, mercy, and 
 relief, over and over again, uttering the same prayer 
 in the same words. Nothing, he finds, suits so well 
 the extremity of his sufferings, the urgency of his 
 wants, as a continual recurrence to the same cries, 
 and the same call for divine aid. Our Lord himself, 
 in his last agony, affords a high example of what we 
 are saying. Thrice he besought his heavenly Father, 
 and thrice he used the same words : repetition, there- 
 fore, is not only tolerable in devotion, but it is na- 
 tural : it is even dictated by a sense of suffering, and 
 an acuteness of feeling. It is coldness of affection, 
 which requires to be enticed and gratified by con- 
 tinual novelty of idea, or expression, or action. The 
 repetitions and prolixity of pharisaical prayers, which 
 our Lord censures, are to be understood of those 
 prayers which run out into mere formality and into
 
 90 Taste far Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 great length ; no sentiment or affection of the heart 
 accompanying them ; but uttered as a task, from ah 
 opinion (of which our Lord justly notices the ab- 
 surdity) that they should really be heard for their 
 much speaking. Actuated by the spirit of devotion 
 we can never offend in this way : we can never be 
 the object of this censure. 
 
 Lastly, and what has already been intimated, the 
 spirit of devotion will cause our" prayers to have an 
 effect upon our practice. For example ; if we re- 
 peated the confession in our liturgy with a true peni- 
 tential sense of guilt upon our souls, we should not, 
 day after day, be acknowledging to God our trans- 
 gressions and neglects, and yet go on exactly in the 
 same manner, without endeavouring to make them 
 less and fewer. We should plainly perceive that this 
 was doing nothing towards salvation ; and that, at 
 this rate, we may be sinning and confessing all our 
 lives. Whereas, was the right spirit of confessional 
 piety, viz. thoughtfulness of soul, within us at the 
 time, this would be the certain benefit, especially in 
 the case of an often repeated sin, that the mind would 
 become more and more concerned, more and more 
 filled with compunction and remorse, so as to be 
 forced into amendment. Even the most heartfelt con- 
 fession might not immediately do for us all that we 
 could wish ; yet by perseverance in the same, it would 
 certainly, in a short time, produce its desired effect. 
 For the same reason, we should not time after time 
 pray that we might thenceforward, viz. after each 
 time of so praying, lead godly, righteous, and sober
 
 PALEY.] Taste for Devotion. 91 
 
 lives, yet persist, just as usual, in ungodliness, un- 
 righteousness, and intemperance. The thing would 
 be impossible, if we prayed as we ought. So like- 
 wise, if real thankfulness of heart accompanied our 
 thanksgivings, we should not pray in vain, that we 
 might show forth the praises of God, not only with 
 our lips but in our lives. As it is, thousands repeat 
 these words without doing a single deed for the sake 
 of pleasing God, exclusive of other motives, or re- 
 fraining from a single thing they like to do out of the 
 fear of displeasing him. So again, every time we hear 
 the third service at church, we pray that God would 
 incline our hearts to keep his commandments ; yet 
 immediately, perhaps, afterwards allow our hearts 
 and inclinations to wander, without control, to what- 
 ever sinful temptation enticed them. This, I say, all 
 proceeds from the want of earnestness in our devo- 
 tions. Strong devotion is an antidote against sin. 
 
 To conclude : a spirit of devotion is one of the 
 greatest blessings, and. by consequence, the want of 
 it one of the greatest misfortunes, which a Christian 
 can experience. When it is present, it gives life to 
 every act of worship which we perform : it makes 
 every such act interesting and comfortable to our- 
 selves. It is felt in our most retired moments, in 
 our beds, our closets, our rides, our walks. It is 
 stirred within us, when we are assembled with our 
 children and servants in family prayer. It leads us 
 to church, to the congregation of our fellow-Chris- 
 tians there collected ; it accompanies us in our joint 
 offices of religion in an especial manner ; and it re-
 
 92 Taste for Devotion. [WILLIAM 
 
 turns us to our homes holier, and happier, and better ; 
 and, lastly, what greatly enhances its value to every 
 anxious Christian, it affords to himself a proof that 
 his heart is right towards God ; when it is followed 
 up by a good life, by abstinence from sin, and en- 
 deavours after virtue, by avoiding evil and doing 
 good, the proof and the satisfaction to be drawn from 
 it are complete.
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 93 
 
 SERIOUSNESS IN RELIGION. 
 
 1 PETER, iv. 7. 
 
 He ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer. 
 
 A HE first requisite in religion is seriousness. No 
 impression can be made without it. An orderly life, 
 so far as others are able to observe, is now and then 
 produced by prudential motives or by dint of habit ; 
 but without seriousness there can be no religious 
 principle at the bottom, no course of conduct flow- 
 ing from religious motives ; in a word, there can be 
 no religion. This cannot exist without seriousness 
 upon the subject. Perhaps a teacher of religion has 
 more difficulty in producing seriousness amongst his 
 hearers, than in any other part of his office. Until 
 he succeed in this, he loses his labour : and when 
 once, from any cause whatever, a spirit of levity has 
 taken hold of a mind, it is next to impossible to 
 plant serious considerations in that mind. It is sel- 
 dom to be done, except by some great shock or 
 alarm, sufficient to make a radical change in the 
 disposition ; and which is God's own way of bringing 
 about the business.
 
 91 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 - One might have expected that events so awful 
 and tremendous, as death and judgment ; that a 
 question so deeply interesting, as whether we shall 
 go to heaven or to hell, could in no possible case, 
 and in no constitution of mind whatever, fail of ex- 
 citing the most serious apprehension and concern. 
 But this is not so. In a thoughtless, a careless, a 
 sensual world, many are always found, who can 
 resist, and who do resist, the force and importance 
 of all these reflections ; that is to say, they suffer 
 nothing of the kind to enter into their thoughts. 
 There are grave men and women, nay, even middle- 
 aged persons, who have not thought seriously about 
 religion an hour, nor a quarter of an hour, in the 
 whole course of their lives. This great object of 
 human solicitude affects not them in any manner 
 whatever. 
 
 It cannot be without its use to enquire into the 
 causes of a levity of temper, which so effectually 
 obstructs the admission of every religious influence, 
 and which I should almost call unnatural. 
 
 1st. Now there is a numerous class of mankind, 
 who are wrought upon by nothing but what applies 
 immediately to their senses ; by what they see or 
 by what they feel ; by pleasures or pains, or by the 
 near prospect of pleasures and pains which they 
 actually experience or actually observe. But it is 
 the characteristic of religion to hold out to our con- 
 sideration enquiries which we do not perceive at 
 the time. That is its very office and province. 
 Therefore if men will restrict and confine all their
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 95 
 
 regards and all their cares to things which they per- 
 ceive with their outward senses ; if they will yield 
 up their understandings to their senses both in what 
 these senses are fitted to apprehend, and in what 
 they are not fitted to apprehend, it is utterly impos- 
 sible for religion to settle in their hearts, or for them 
 to entertain any serious concern about the matter. 
 But surely this conduct is completely irrational, and 
 can lead to nothing but ruin. It proceeds upon the 
 supposition, that there is nothing above us, about 
 us, or future, by which we can be affected, but the 
 things which we see with our eyes or feel by our 
 touch. All which is untrue. " THE INVISIBLE 
 
 THINGS OF GOD FROM THE CREATION OF THE 
 WORLD ARE CLEARLY SEEN, BEING UNDERSTOOD 
 BY THE THINGS THAT ARE SEEN ; EVEN HIS 
 ETERNAL POWER AND GODHEAD ; " which means, 
 
 that the order, contrivance, and design, displayed 
 in the creation, prove with certainty that there is 
 more in nature than what we really see ; and that 
 amongst the invisible things of the universe there is 
 a Being, the author and origin of all this contrivance 
 and design, and, by consequence, a being of stu- 
 pendous power, and wisdom, and knowledge, incom- 
 parably exalted above any wisdom or knowledge, 
 which we see in man, and that he stands in the 
 same relation to us as the maker does to the thing 
 made. The things which are seen are not made of 
 the things which do appear. This is plain; and 
 this argument is independent of Scripture and reve- 
 lation. What further moral or religious consequences
 
 96 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 properly follow from it is another question ; but the 
 proposition itself shows that they who cannot, and 
 they who will not, raise their minds above the mere 
 information of their senses, are in a state of gross 
 error as to the real truth of things, and are also in a 
 state to which the faculties of man ought not to be 
 degraded. A person of this sort may, with respect 
 to religion, remain a child all his life. A child 
 naturally has no concern but about the things which 
 directly meet its senses ; and the person we de- 
 scribe is in the same condition. 
 
 Again : There is a race of giddy thoughtless men 
 and women, of young men and young women more 
 especially, who look no further than the next day, 
 the next week, the next month ; seldom or ever so 
 far as the next year. 
 
 Present pleasure is every thing with them. The 
 sports of the day, the amusements of the evening, 
 entertainments and diversions occupy all their con- 
 cern ; and so long as these can be supplied in suc- 
 cession, so long as they go from one diversion to 
 another, their minds remain in a state of perfect in- 
 difference to every thing, except their pleasures. 
 Now what chance has religion with such dispositions 
 as these ? yet these dispositions, begun in early life, 
 and favoured by circumstances, that is, by affluence 
 and health, cleave to a man's character much beyond 
 the period of life in which they might seem to be 
 excusable. Excusable, did I say ? I ought rather to 
 have said that they are contrary to reason and duty 
 in every condition and at every period of life. Even
 
 PALEY.J Seriousness in Religion. 97 
 
 in youth they are built upon falsehood and folly. 
 Young persons, as well as old, find that things do 
 actually come to pass. Evils and mischiefs, which 
 they regarded as distant, as out of their view, as be- 
 yond the line and reach of their preparations or their 
 concern, come they find to be actually felt. They 
 find that nothing is done by slighting them before- 
 hand; for however neglected or despised, perhaps 
 ridiculed and derided, they come not only to be 
 tilings present, but the very things and the only 
 things about which their anxiety is employed ; be- 
 come serious things indeed, as being the things 
 which now make them wretched and miserable. 
 Therefore a man must learn to be affected by events 
 which appear to lie at some distance, before he will 
 be seriously affected by religion. 
 
 Again : The general course of education is much 
 against religious seriousness, even without those who 
 conduct education foreseeing or intending any such 
 effect. Many of us are brought up with this world 
 set before us, and nothing else. Whatever pro- 
 motes this world's prosperity is praised ; whatever 
 hurts and obstructs and prejudices this world's pros- 
 perity is blamed: and there all praise and -censure 
 end. We see mankind about us in motion and 
 action, but all these motions and actions directed to 
 worldly objects. We hear their conversation, but 
 it is all the same way. And this is what we see 
 and hear from the first. The views which are con- 
 tinually placed before our eyes, regard this 'life 
 alone, and its interests. Can it, then, be wondered 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 at, that an early worldly-mindedness is bred in our 
 hearts, so strong as to shut out heavenly -mindedness 
 entirely ? In the contest which is always carrying 
 on between this world and the next, it is no difficult 
 thing to see what advantage this world has. One 
 of the greatest of these advantages is, that it pre- 
 occupies the mind ; it gets the first hold and the 
 first possession. Childhood and youth left to them- 
 selves are necessarily guided by sense ; and sense 
 is all on the side of this world. 
 
 Meditation brings us to look towards a future life ; 
 but then meditation comes afterwards ; it only comes 
 when the mind is already filled, and engaged, and 
 occupied, nay, often crowded and surcharged with 
 worldly ideas. It is not only, therefore, fair and 
 right, but it is absolutely necessary, to give to reli- 
 gion all the advantage we can give it by dint of 
 education ; for all that can be done is too little to 
 set religion upon an equality with its rival ; which 
 rival is the world. A creature, which is to pass a 
 small portion of its existence in one state, and that 
 state to be preparatory to another, ought, no doubt, 
 to have its attention constantly fixed upon its ulte- 
 rior and permanent destination. And this would 
 be so, if the question between them came fairly 
 before the mind. We should listen to the Scrip- 
 tures ; we should embrace religion ; we should enter 
 into every thing which had relation to the subject 
 with a concern and impression, even far more than 
 the pursuits of this world, eager and ardent as they 
 are, excite.
 
 PA LEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 99 
 
 But the question between religion and the world 
 does not come fairly before us. What surrounds us 
 is this world; what addresses our senses and our 
 passions is this world ; what is at hand, what is in 
 contact with us, what acts upon us, what we act 
 upon, is this world. 
 
 Reason, faith, and hope, are the only principles to 
 which religion applies, or possibly can apply ; and it 
 is religion, faith, and hope striving with sense, 
 striving with temptation, striving for things absent 
 against things which are present. That religion, 
 therefore, may not be quite excluded and overborne, 
 may not quite sink under these powerful causes, 
 every support ought to be given to it, which can be 
 given by education, by instruction, and, above all, 
 by the example of those to whom young persons 
 look up, acting with a view to a future life them- 
 selves. 
 
 Again : It is the nature of worldly business of all 
 kinds, especially of much hurry or over-employment, 
 or over-anxiety in business, to shut out and keep 
 out religion from the mind. The question is, whe- 
 ther the state of mind which this cause produces 
 ought to be called a want of seriousness in religion ? 
 It becomes coldness and indifference towards re- 
 ligion ; but is it properly a want of seriousness upon 
 the subject ? I think it is ; and in this way ; We 
 are never serious upon any matter which we regard 
 as trifling. That is impossible. And we are led to 
 regard a thing as trifling which engages no portion 
 H 3
 
 100 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 of our habitual thoughts, in comparison with what 
 other things do. 
 
 But further : The world, even in its innocent pur- 
 suits and pleasures, has a tendency unfavourable to 
 the religious sentiment. But were these all it had 
 to contend with, the strong application which reli- 
 gion makes to the thoughts, whenever we think of 
 it at all ; the strong interest which it presents to 
 us, might enable it to overcome and prevail in the 
 contest. 
 
 But there is another adversary to oppose, much 
 more formidable ; and that is sensuality ; an ad- 
 diction to sensual pleasures. It is the FLESH which 
 LUSTETH AGAINST the SPIRIT; that is the war 
 which is waged within us. 
 
 So it is, no matter what may be the cause, that 
 sensual indulgences, over and above their proper 
 criminality, as sins, as offences against God's com- 
 mands, have a specific effect upon the heart of man 
 in destroying the religious principle within him : or 
 still more surely in preventing the formation of that 
 principle. It either induces an open profaneness of 
 conversation and behaviour, which scorns and con- 
 temns religion ; a kind of profligacy, which rejects 
 and sets at nought the whole thing : or it brings 
 upon the heart an averseness to the subject, a fixed 
 dislike and reluctance to enter upon its concerns in 
 any way whatever. That a resolved sinner should 
 set himself against a religion which tolerates no sin, 
 is not to be wondered at. He is against religion,
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 101 
 
 because religion is against the course of life upon 
 which he has entered, and which he does not feel 
 himself willing to give up. But this is not the 
 whole, nor is it the bottom of the matter. The 
 effect we allude to is not so reasoning or argument- 
 ative as this. It is a specific effect upon the mind. 
 The heart is rendered unsusceptible of religious im- 
 pressions, incapable of a serious regard to religion ; 
 and this effect belongs to sins of sensuality more than 
 to other sins. It is a consequence which almost uni- 
 versally follows from them. We measure the im- 
 portance of things, not by what, or according to 
 what, they are in truth, but by and according to the 
 space and room which they occupy in our minds. 
 Now, our business, our trade, our schemes, our pur- 
 suits, our gains, our losses, our fortunes, possessing 
 so much of our minds,, whether we regard the hours 
 we expend in meditating upon them, or the earnest- 
 ness with which we think about them ; and religion 
 possessing so little share of our thought either in 
 time or earnestness ; the consequence is, that worldly 
 interest comes to be the serious thing with us, reli- 
 gion comparatively the trifle. Men of business are 
 naturally serious ; but all their seriousness is ab- 
 sorbed by their business. In religion they are no 
 more serious than the most giddy characters are ; 
 than those characters are which betray levity in all 
 things. 
 
 Again : The want of due seriousness in religion 
 is almost sure to be the consequence of the absence 
 or disuse of religious ordinances and exercises. I 
 H 3
 
 102 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 use two terms ; " absence" and " disuse." Some 
 have never attended upon any religious ordinances, 
 or practised any religious exercises, since the time 
 they were born ; some, a very few times in their 
 lives. With these it is the " absence " of religious 
 ordinances and exercises. There are others (and 
 many we fear of this description), who, whilst under 
 the guidance of their parents, have frequented re- 
 ligious ordinances, and been trained up to religious' 
 exercises, but who, when they came into more public 
 life, and to be their own masters, and to mix in the 
 pleasures of the world, or to engage themselves in 
 its business and pursuits, have forsaken these duties 
 in whole, or in a great degree. With these it is 
 the " disuse" of religious ordinances and ex- 
 ercises. But I must also explain what I mean by 
 " religious ordinances and exercises." By " reli- 
 gious ordinances" I mean the being instructed hi 
 our catechism in our youth ; attending upon public 
 worship at church ; the keeping holy the Lord's 
 day regularly and most particularly, together with a 
 few other days in the year, by which some very 
 principal events and passages of the Christian his- 
 tory are commemorated ; and at its proper season 
 the more solemn office of receiving the Lord's Sup- 
 per. These are so many rites and ordinances of 
 Christianity, concerning all which it may be said, 
 that, with the greater part of mankind, especially 
 of that class of mankind which must or does give 
 much of its time and care to worldly concerns, they 
 are little less than absolutely necessary, if we judge
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 103 
 
 it to be necessary to maintain and uphold any sen- 
 timent, any impression, any seriousness about re- 
 ligion in the mind at all. They are necessary to 
 preserve in the thoughts a place for the subject ; 
 they are necessary that the train of our thoughts 
 may not even be closed up against it. Were all 
 days of the week alike, and employed alike ; was 
 there no difference or distinction between Sunday 
 and work-day ; was there not a church in the na- 
 tion ; were we never from one year's end to another 
 called together to participate in public worship ; 
 were there no set forms of public worship, no par- 
 ticular persons appointed to minister and officiate, 
 indeed, no assemblies for public worship at all, no 
 joint prayers, no preaching ; still religion, in itself, 
 in its reality and importance, in its end and event, 
 would be the same thing as what it is ; we should 
 still have to account for our conduct ; there would 
 still be heaven and hell, salvation and perdition; 
 there would still be the laws of God, both natural 
 and revealed ; all the obligation which the authority 
 of a Creator can impose upon a creature; all the 
 gratitude which is due from a rational being to the 
 Author and Giver of every blessing which he enjoys ; 
 lastly, there would still be the redemption of tire 
 world by Jesus Christ. All these things would, 
 with or without religious ordinances, be equally 
 real, and existing, and valid; but men would not 
 think equally about them. Many would entirely 
 and totally neglect them. Some there would always 
 be of a more devout, or serious, or contemplative 
 H 4
 
 104 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 disposition, who would retain a lively sense of 
 these things under all circumstances and all disad- 
 vantages ; who would never lose their veneration 
 for them, never forget them. But from others, 
 from the careless, the busy, the followers of pleasure, 
 the pursuers of wealth or advancement, ^hese 
 tilings would slip away from the thoughts entirely. 
 Together with religious " ordinances " we men 
 tioned religious " exercises." By the term religious 
 " exercises " I in particular mean private prayer 
 whether it be at set times, as in the morning and 
 evening of each day, or whether it be called forth 
 by occasions, as when we are to form some moment- 
 ous decision, or enter upon some great undertaking ; 
 or when we "are under some pressing difficulty or 
 deep distress, some excruciating bodily pain or heavy 
 affliction ; or, on the other hand, and no less pro- 
 perly, when we have lately been receiving some 
 signal benefit, experiencing some signal mercy ; 
 such as preservation from danger, relief from dif- 
 ficulty or distress, abatement of pain, recovery from 
 sickness : for by prayer, let it be observed, we mean 
 devotion in general ; and thanksgiving is devotion 
 as much as prayer itself. I mean private prayer, as 
 here described, and I also mean, what is, perhaps, 
 the most natural form of private prayer, short, eja- 
 culatory, extemporaneous addresses to God, as often 
 as either the reflections which rise up in our minds, 
 let them come from what quarter they may, or the 
 objects and incidents which seize our attention, 
 prompt us to utter them; which, in a religiously
 
 PA LEY. ] Seriousness in Religion. 105 
 
 disposed mind, will be the case, I may say, every 
 hour ; and which ejaculation may be offered up to 
 God in any posture, in any place, or in any situation. 
 Amongst religious exercises I also reckon family 
 prayer, which unites many of the uses both of public 
 worship and private prayer. The reading of reli- 
 gious books is likewise to be accounted a religious 
 exercise. Religious meditation still more so ; and 
 more so for this reason, that it implies and includes 
 that most important duty, self-examination ; for I 
 hold it to be next to impossible for a man to meditate 
 upon religion without meditating at the same time 
 upon his own present condition with respect to the 
 tremendous alternative which is to take place upon 
 him after his death. 
 
 These are what we understand by religious exer- 
 cises ; and they are all so far oftthe same nature with 
 religious ordinances, that they are aids and helps of 
 religion itself; and I think that religious seriousness 
 cannot be maintained in the soul without them. 
 
 But again : A cause which has a strong tendency 
 to destroy religious seriousness, and which almost in- 
 fallibly prevents its formation and growth in young 
 minds, is levity in conversation upon religious sub- 
 jects, or upon subjects connected with religion. 
 Whether we regard the practice with regard to those 
 who use it, or to those who hear it, it is highly to be 
 blamed, and is productive of great mischief. In those 
 who use it, it amounts almost to a proof that they 
 are destitute of religious seriousness. The principle 
 itself is destroyed in them, or was never formed in
 
 106 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 them. Upon those who hear, its effect is this. If 
 they have concern about religion, and the disposition 
 towards religion, which they ought to have, and 
 which we signify by this word seriousness, they will 
 be inwardly shocked and offended by the levity with 
 which they hear it treated. They will, as it were, 
 resent the treatment of a subject, which by others 
 has always been thought upon with awe and dread 
 and veneration. But the pain with which they were 
 at first affected goes off by hearing frequently the 
 same sort of language ; and then they will be almost 
 sure, if they examine the state of their minds as to 
 religion, to feel a change in themselves for the worse. 
 This is the danger to which those are exposed who 
 had before imbibed serious impressions. Those, who 
 had not, will be prevented by such sort of convers- 
 ation from ever imbibing them at all ; so that its in 
 fluence is in all cases pernicious. 
 
 The turn which this levity usually takes, is in jests 
 and raillery upon the opinions, or the peculiarities, or 
 the persons of those who happen to be more serious 
 than ourselves. But against whomsoever it happens 
 to be pointed, it has the bad effects both- upon the 
 speaker and the hearer which we have noticed. 
 It tends to destroy our own seriousness, together 
 with the seriousness of those who hear or join in such 
 sort of conversation, especially if they be young 
 persons : and I am persuaded that much mischief is 
 actually done in this way. 
 
 It has been objected, that so much regard, or, as 
 the objectors would call it, over-regard for religion,
 
 PALEY.*] Seriousness in Religion. 107 
 
 is inconsistent with the interest and welfare of our 
 families, and with success and prosperity in our 
 worldly affairs.* I believe that there is very little 
 
 * [I subjoin a beautiful passage, upon the nature and ten- 
 dency of the subject above treated, from a sermon of the same 
 author, upon " Religion, not a mere feeling, but an active prmr 
 dple," Matt. vii. 21. WORKS, vol. i. p. 129 133.] 
 
 " Sometimes also, without any external causes, or any cause 
 that we are acquainted with, strong impressions of futurity, 
 awful apprehensions of our great change, come over the mind. 
 The things of this world are diminished to nothing, when we 
 place them by the side of that great event which will arrive, 
 and in a short time, to all of us. Life appears what it is a 
 span ; inconsiderable at the longest ; liable every day to be put 
 an end to : what shadows we pursue, what shadows we are ! 
 The unsatisfactoriness of all our worldly enjoyments, the un- 
 certainty of all our worldly hopes, seizes the imagination with 
 irresistible force. Here then again the soul turns to God. 
 Beaten and repulsed from every other source of confidence 
 and contentment, it seeks them in the future mercies of a 
 faithful Creator. 
 
 " Or again, it may and does happen, that a sudden glow, a 
 certain warmth and elevation of heart, as to the concerns of 
 religion, spring up at particular times in our breast ; we cry 
 ' Lord, Lord ! ' with rapture the promises, the views, the 
 consolations of Christianity, fill our hearts; we rejoice (as 
 Saint Paul, who felt much of this animation, expresses it) hi 
 the hope of our calling, and in the joy of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 " Now, concerning all these various states of mind and 
 affection, the first thing to be said is, that they are all good. 
 Whatever draws the soul to God, whether it be reflection upon 
 the astonishing history of our Lord Jesus Christ, the ardour of his 
 love, the patience of his sufferings, undertaken and undergone 
 for our sakes ; whether it be some outward visitation and dis- 
 comfiture, some stroke of Providence, which brings us to our-
 
 108 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 ground for this objection in fact, and even as the 
 world goes ; in reason and principle there is none. 
 
 selves, which makes us serious in the business of religion; 
 whether it be some inward sinking and misgiving of the mind, 
 some cloud which overcasts the spirits; or whether, on the 
 contrary, we be raised and lifted, as it were, towards heaven by 
 the life and flow of our devotion, still all is good. We ought 
 to regard and accept these stirrings and motions of 'the mind 
 towards religion, from whatever cause they proceed, as favour- 
 able and hopeful intimations of a righteous principle forming 
 within us. We are to invite, cherish, and cultivate them ; wait 
 and desire the return of them ; above all, be thankful for them, 
 and account even calamities as blessings, when they tend to 
 make us religious. It is a sorrow not to be repented of, when 
 it leads to salvation. 
 
 " Nothing that our Lord says in the text ought by any 
 means to be construed to the undervaluing or discouraging of 
 devout feelings of any kind, or from any cause : but the great 
 misfortune is, these thoughts are apt to be short-lived ; they 
 are wont to be soon forgotten, and forgotten entirely. In the 
 night we cry, ' Lord, Lord ! ' in the morning we return to 
 our sins ; that world, with its pleasures, and honours, and cares, 
 and contentions, which we lately thought so little worth our 
 strife and our anxiety, courts us again with new temptations, 
 and is pursued with fresh eagerness. That enduring imperish- 
 able soul, the saving of which we judged the only concern we 
 need to care about or to be afraid about, obtains not our con- 
 sideration amongst the multitude of thoughts which crowd 
 upon us ; those prospects of everlasting happiness in heaven, 
 which awhile ago opened so bright upon our view, are again 
 shut- out ; some loose, sinful pursuit, some mean advantage, 
 gets hold again of our hearts, and closes up that passage where 
 religion was entering in. This is precise! y the weakness which 
 our Lord was aware of, and which the words of the text were
 
 PA LEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 109 
 
 A good Christian divides his time between the duties 
 of religion, the calls of business, and those quiet re- 
 intended to warn us against. To make good thoughts effectual 
 to salvation, we must so work them into the frame of the mind, 
 so knit and weave them into the very substance of the heart 
 and disposition, that they be no longer merely thoughts, or 
 merely occasional ; but they have a steady influence upon our 
 behaviour, that they take hold of our conduct, that they be at 
 hand to check and pluck us back when we would go about 
 any wicked design, and that they be at hand also to remind us, 
 and to put us forward when any good thing falls in our power 
 to do. 
 
 " This it is to become a Christian ; and this indeed is the 
 diffi culty of the work. The passage from thought to action, from 
 religious sentiments to religious conduct, seems a difficult at- 
 tainment. I said before, the very beginnings are blessings. Holy 
 thoughts, though occasional, though sudden, though brought on, 
 it may be, by calamity and affliction, though roused in us we 
 do not know how* are still the beginnings of grace. Let no 
 man, therefore, despise serious thoughts ; let no man scorn or 
 ridicule them in others: least of all the man who has none 
 himself ; for there is still a wide difference between him who 
 thinks, though but occasionally, of his duty and of his salva- 
 tion, and him who never permits himself to entertain such 
 thoughts at all. One, it is true, may be far from having com- 
 pleted his work : the other has not begun his. Those very 
 meditations which he despises in other men, because he sees 
 that they have not the influence which they ought to have upon 
 their lives and conversation, are, nevertheless, what he himself 
 must begin with, what he himself must come to, if ever he enter 
 truly upon a Christian course. It is from good thoughts and 
 good resolutions that the Christian character must set out ; it 
 is with these it must begin ; it is by these it must be formed. 
 We cannot, however, always be thinking about religion. That
 
 110 Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 laxations which may be innocently allowed to his cir- 
 cumstances and condition, and which will be chiefly 
 in his family or amongst a few friends. In this plan 
 of life there is no confusion or interference in its 
 parts ; and unless a man be given to sloth and lazi- 
 ness, which are what religion condemns, he will find 
 time enough for them all. This calm system may 
 not be sufficient for that unceasing eagerness, hurry, 
 and anxiety about worldly affairs, in which some men 
 
 is true : but the thing wanted of us, the thing necessary for us, 
 the thing required in the text, is, not that religion be constantly 
 in our thoughts, but that it have a constant influence upon our 
 behaviour ; and that is a very intelligible distinction, and takes 
 place in common life. Avarice and pecuniary gain shall have 
 a constant influence upon a man's behaviour, that is, his actions 
 shall constantly draw and tend to that point, and yet it may not 
 be that his thoughts are always employed in calculating his 
 profits, or reckoning on his fortune. And that influence which 
 a worldly principle often possesses, a religious principle may 
 acquire. The making sure of heaven may be to one man as 
 strong and steady a motive of action as the making a fortune is 
 tc another. Pleasing God by doing good to man, may be as 
 fixed a point in the mind of a disciple of Jesus Christ, as the 
 compassing some scheme of wealth or greatness is frequently to 
 the children of this generation. The fear of offending our 
 Maker may be as great and powerful a check upon a religious 
 man's actions, as any consideration whatever can be in the pur- 
 suits of worldly prosperity. The matter, and what in a great 
 measure forms the business, and the greatest difficulty of re- 
 ligion, is to bring our minds to this that devout thoughts 
 draw from us not only words, but actions ; not only make us 
 call upon him, but do his will ; not only lift up our hearts to 
 heaven in particular seasons of meditation, but that at all 
 seasons they keep us back from sin."
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. Ill 
 
 pass their lives ; but it is sufficient for every thing 
 which reasonable prudence requires : it is perfectly 
 consistent with usefulness in our stations, which is a 
 main point. Indeed, compare the hours which serious 
 persons spend in religious exercises and meditations, 
 with the hours which the thoughtless and irreligious 
 spend in idleness and vice and expensive diversions, 
 and you will perceive on which side of the com- 
 parison the advantage lies, even in this view of the 
 subject. 
 
 Nor is there any thing in the nature of religion to 
 support the objection. In a certain sense it is true, 
 what has been sometimes said, that religion ought to 
 be the rule of life, not the business : by which is 
 meant, that the subject-matter even of religious 
 duties lies in the common affairs and transactions of 
 the world. Diligence in our calling is an example 
 of this ; which, however, keeps both our heads and 
 hands at work upon business merely temporal ; yet 
 religion may be governing us here meanwhile : God 
 may be feared in the busiest scenes. 
 
 In addition to the above, there exists another pre- 
 judice against religious seriousness arising from a 
 notion very commonly entertained, viz. that religion 
 leads to gloom and melancholy. This notion, I am 
 convinced, is a mistake. Some persons are constitu- 
 tionally subject to melancholy, which is as much a 
 disease in them as the ague is a disease ; and it may 
 happen that such men's melancholy may fall upon 
 religious ideas, as it may upon any other subject 
 which seizes their distempered imagination. But this
 
 US Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 is not religion leading to melancholy : or it some- 
 times is the case, that men are brought to a sense of 
 religion by calamity and affliction, which produce at 
 the same time depression of spirits. But neither 
 here is religion the cause of this distress or dejection, 
 or to be blamed for it. These cases being excepted, 
 the very reverse of what is alleged against religion is 
 the truth. No man's spirits were ever hurt by doing his 
 duty. On the contrary, one good action, one tempt- 
 ation resisted and overcome, one sacrifice of desire 
 or interest, purely for conscience-sake, will prove a 
 cordial for weak and low spirits beyond what either 
 indulgence or diversion or company can do for them. 
 And a succession and course of such actions and 
 self-denials, springing from a religious principle 
 and manfully maintained, is the best possible course 
 that can be followed as a remedy for sinkings and 
 oppressions of this kind. Can it then be true that 
 religion leads to melancholy? Occasions rise to 
 every man living ; to many very severe as well as re- 
 peated occasions, in which the hopes of religion are 
 the only stay that is left him. Godly men have that 
 within them which cheers and comforts them in their 
 saddest hours ; ungodly men have that which strikes 
 their heart like a dagger in their gayest moments. 
 Godly men discover, what is very true, but what, by 
 niost men, is found out too late, namely, that a good 
 conscience and the hope of our Creator's final favour 
 and acceptance are the only solid happiness to be 
 attained in this world. Experience corresponds with 
 the reason of the thing. I take upon me to say, that
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 113 
 
 religious men are generally cheerful. ' If this be not 
 observed, as might be expected, supposing it to be 
 true, it is because the cheerfulness which religion 
 inspires does not show itself in noise, or in fits and 
 starts of merriment, but is calm and constant. Of 
 this, the only true and valuable kind of cheerfulness, 
 for all other kinds are hollow and unsatisfying, re- 
 ligious men possess not less but a greater share than 
 ethers. 
 
 Another destroyer of religious seriousness, and 
 which is the last I shall mention, is a certain fatal 
 turn which some minds take, namely, that when 
 they find difficulties in or concerning religion, or 
 any of the tenets of religion, they forthwith plunge 
 into irreligion; and make these difficulties, or any 
 degree of uncertainty, which seems to their appre- 
 hension to hang over the subject, a: ground and oc- 
 casion for giving full liberty to their inclinations, 
 and for casting off the restraints of religion entirely. 
 This is the case with men, who, at the best, perhaps, 
 were only balancing between the sanctions of reli- 
 gion and the love of pleasure or of unjust gain ; but 
 especially the former. In this precarious state, any 
 objection, or appearance of objection, which dimi- 
 nishes the force of religious impression, determines 
 the balance against the side of virtue, and gives up 
 the doubts to sensuality, to the world, and to the 
 flesh. Now of all ways which a man can take, this 
 is the surest way to destruction. And it is com- 
 pletely irrational ; for when we meditate upon the 
 tremendous consequences which form the subject 
 
 VOL. I. 1
 
 114- Seriousness in Religion. [WILLIAM 
 
 of religion, we cannot avoid this reflection, that any 
 degree of possibility whatever, of religion being 
 true, ought to determine a rational creature so to 
 act as to secure himself from punishment in a 
 future state, and the loss of that happiness which 
 may be attained. Therefore he has no pretence for 
 alleging uncertainty as an excuse for his conduct, 
 because he does not act in conformity with that in 
 which there is no uncertainty at all. In the next 
 place, it is giving to apparent difficulties more weight 
 than they are entitled to. I only request any man 
 to consider, first, the necessary allowances to be 
 made for the short-sightedness and the weakness of 
 the human understanding ; secondly, the nature of 
 those subjects concerning whiqh religion treats, so 
 remote from our senses, so different from our ex- 
 perience, so above and beyond the ordinary train 
 and course of our ideas ; and then say, whether 
 difficulties and great difficulties also, were not to be 
 expected; nay further, whether they be not, in 
 some measure, subservient to the very purpose of 
 religion. The reward of everlasting life, and the 
 punishment of misery of which we know no end, if 
 they were present and immediate, could not be 
 withstood, and would not leave any room for liberty 
 or choice. But this sort of force upon the will is 
 not what God designed ; nor is suitable, indeed, to 
 the nature of free, moral, and accountable agents. 
 The truth is, and it was most likely beforehand that 
 it would be so, that amidst some points which are 
 dark, some which are dubious, there are many which
 
 PALEY.] Seriousness in Religion. 115 
 
 are clear and certain. Now, I apprehend, that, if 
 we act faithfully up to those points concerning which 
 there is no question, most especially, if we determine 
 upon and choose our rule and course of life accord- 
 ing to those principles of choice, which all men 
 whatever allow to be wise and safe principles, and 
 the only principles which are so ; and conduct our- 
 selves steadfastly according to the rule thus chosen, 
 the difficulties which remain in religion will not 
 move or disturb us much ; and will, as we proceed, 
 become gradually less and fewer. Whereas, if we 
 begin with objections ; if all we consider about reli- 
 gion be its difficulties : but most especially, if we 
 permit the suggestion of these difficulties to drive 
 us into a practical rejection of religion itself, and to 
 afford us, which is what we wanted, an excuse to 
 ourselves for casting off its restraints ; then the 
 event will be, that its difficulties will multiply upon 
 us, its light grow more and more dim, and we shall 
 settle in the worst and most hopeless of all conditions, 
 the last condition, I will venture to say, in which 
 any man living would wish his son, or any one 
 whom he loved, and for whose happiness he was 
 anxious, to be placed, a life of confirmed vice and 
 dissoluteness, founded in a formal renunciation of 
 religion. 
 
 He that has to preach Christianity to persons in 
 this state has to preach to stones. He must not 
 expect to be heard, either with complacency or seri- 
 ousness, or patience, or even to escape contempt and 
 derision. Habits of thinking are fixed by habits 
 i 2
 
 116 Seriousness in Religion. [PALE'Y. 
 
 of acting ; and both too solidly fixed to be moved 
 by human persuasion. God in his mercy, and by 
 his providences, as well as by his Spirit, can touch 
 and soften the heart of stone. And it is seldom, 
 perhaps, that without some strong, and, it may be, 
 sudden impressions of this kind, and from this 
 source, serious sentiments ever penetrate disposi- 
 tions hardened in the manner which we have here 
 described.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 117 
 
 ON PRAYER.* 
 PSALM Ixxxvi. 7. 
 
 In the day of my trouble I will call upon tliee ; for thou wilt 
 answer me, 
 
 OF the Psalms of David, which have been justly 
 designated, as far as doctrines and precepts are con- 
 cerned, an epitome of the whole Scriptures, none 
 are more beautiful than those which were composed 
 by that favoured servant of God in the dark seasons 
 of affliction. For this peculiarity, two reasons may 
 be assigned. In the first place, the language of 
 sorrow is the natural, unstudied language of the 
 heart; the expression of genuine sentiment and 
 feeling, undebased by affectation or conceit. The 
 heavy hand of affliction, while it crushes the grosser 
 appetites, and shuts out worldly thoughts and wishes, 
 forces into action all the gentler and purer affections 
 of the soul, and gives unwonted energy and richness 
 to the natural eloquence of the heart. In the 
 second place, there is a sound in the language of 
 genuine sorrow, which awakens an accordant tone 
 in the breasts of those who hear it. The calamities, 
 which call it forth, are the common lot of humanity. 
 They may soon be ours : or if not the same, yet we 
 * See page 55. 
 I 3
 
 118 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 too have our sorrows : and the expression of an- 
 other's woe is irresistibly affecting, when it serves 
 to remind us of our own. 
 
 This indeed is a peculiar and characteristic beauty 
 of those sacred songs of Zion, from which the text 
 is taken, that every servant of God may find in them 
 expressions of joy, or sorrow, suitable to his own 
 particular case ; by meditating upon which he will 
 be chastened and instructed, or supported and con- 
 soled. But the afflicted, more especially, may learn 
 from them the methods of a godly sorrow ; com- 
 bining a deep and almost overwhelming sense ot 
 personal sin, of human infirmity, and of the insta- 
 bility of worldly goods, with an humble but stedfast 
 trust in the goodness of God, and an anxious desire 
 to improve and profit by his fatherly correction. 
 By contemplating the portrait, which the Psalmist 
 has delineated of himself, of his principles, his emo- 
 tions, and his resources in the most trying emer- 
 gencies of life, we learn how to grieve, yet not 
 despond ; to lament, yet not complain ; to sigh for 
 the mercies of God, yet not to murmur at his cor- 
 rections ; to bewail our own sinfulness and weakness, 
 yet to recognise his hand interposed, to relieve us 
 from a burthen too heavy for us to bear. 
 
 And in thus applying, and appropriating to him- 
 self the sentiments and language of the Psalmist, 
 the Christian experiences a degree of refreshment, 
 perhaps exceeding even that which David himselt 
 enjoyed ; inasmuch as he has a clearer view of God's 
 providential government, a more certain knowledge
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 119 
 
 of his will, more abundant evidence of his love and 
 compassion, and a more distinct assurance of recon- 
 ciliation and forgiveness. The truths and blessings 
 of the Gospel, which the Psalmist beheld in pros- 
 pect, the Christian possesses in all their glorious 
 reality : and therefore, while he adopts the words of 
 the royal prophet, he adopts them in an enlarged 
 and exalted sense; makes the Gospel their com 
 rnentary, the Apostles and Evangelists their inter 
 preters, and " him that hath the key of David * " 
 the opener of his hid treasures. 
 
 The eighty-sixth Psalm is an earnest prayer to 
 God for deliverance from trouble, offered up in the 
 full persuasion that it would be answered; a per- 
 suasion, built upon the recollection of past vouch- 
 safements, the certainty of God's consistent and 
 unfailing goodness, and the consciousness of sin- 
 cerity and faith in the suppliant. The construction 
 of this Psalm deserves to be noticed, especially in 
 the first part, where the Psalmist reiterates his 
 prayer, and after each repeated entreaty, assigns 
 the reason why the Most High might be expected 
 to lend a gracious ear to hig petitions. " Bow down 
 thine ear, O Lord, and hear me ! for I am poor and 
 needy. Preserve my soul ! for I am holy. Be 
 merciful unto me, O Lord, for I cry unto thee 
 daily. Rejoice the soul of thy servant ; for unto 
 thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul. In the day of 
 my trouble I will call upon thee; for thou wilt 
 answer me. I will praise thee, O Lord my God; 
 
 * Rev. iii. 7. 
 
 i 4
 
 120 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 far great is thy mercy toward me : and thou hast 
 delivered my soul from the nethermost hell." We 
 have here set forth, in expressions the most simple 
 but pathetic, the chief reasons for the duty of prayer, 
 and the great encouragements to its performance ; 
 the weakness and helplessness of man ; the conde- 
 scending and willing mercy of God ; his acceptance 
 of the service ; and the experienced fulfilment of 
 his promises. 
 
 " Bow down thine ear, O Lord, and hear me ! " 
 God is described in Scripture, by images adapted to 
 human comprehension, as an almighty king, seated 
 upon his throne of glory ; surveying at a glance the 
 whole expanse of the universe ; seeing the actions, 
 hearing the words, and reading the thoughts of all 
 his creatures; bowing down his ear, in tender mercy, 
 to the humble, holy suppliant, and to the repentant 
 sinner; but turning away from the prayers and 
 offerings of the proud, the ungodly, and the care- 
 less. We are not indeed to conceive of him, as of a 
 being invested with a bodily form, or fixed in a par- 
 ticular locality; and yet some such personification 
 of the Deity, as the Scriptures abound in, seems to 
 be absolutely necessary, to fix the notions, and to 
 direct the aspirations of the earthly worshipper. 
 Certainly the expression, " bow down thine ear, O 
 lyord," conveys to ordinary minds a livelier image 
 of the gracious condescension of our heavenly Fa- 
 ther, than the mere abstract proposition, God is 
 merciful, and hears the prayers of his servants. Be 
 that as it may, the very first ingredient in prayer
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 121 
 
 should be, a deep and awful sense of the supreme 
 excellency, and majesty of God, and of the im- 
 measurable distance which separates us from him 
 whom we address. " He that cometh unto God 
 must believe that he is *," and that belief implies a 
 just idea of his nature, as the creator and governor 
 of the universe, in which the globe that we inhabit 
 occupies but a point, and each individual man is 
 but one of millions of reasonable creatures, equally 
 the work of his hand, and alike entitled, as far as we 
 can discover, to be the objects of his care. That 
 any one of the innumerable beings, who people his 
 creation, should be permitted to approach him, with 
 the certainty of attracting his notice, and obtaining 
 his gracious regard, is a mercy, which must be felt 
 before we can pray at all ; and which, when it is 
 indeed felt, cannot fail to excite our deepest admir- 
 ation and gratitude. " O Lord, who hast set thy 
 glory above the heavens; when I consider thy 
 heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the 
 stars which thou hast ordained ; What is man that 
 t\i& art mindful of him, and the son of man that 
 thou visitest him ? " f 
 
 Our sense of the divine goodness is enhanced, by 
 a consideration of the grounds upon which we are 
 permitted to claim it. " Bow down thine ear, O 
 Lord, and hear me:" Why? Because I deserve 
 that stretch of condescension ? because I have done 
 the Lord good service, and am of right entitled to 
 his consideration ? No : but " because I am poor 
 * Heb. xi. 6. t Psalm viii.
 
 122 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 and needy ; " for the very reason, which might be 
 thought to render me undeserving of his notice, and 
 to place me out of the sphere of his regard. But 
 this is a striking and characteristic feature of true 
 religion, and one which shows its adaptation to the 
 actual condition of man, and the requirements of his 
 nature, that it represents the Deity, as most regard- 
 ful of those, who stand most in need of his consider- 
 ation ; and brings the lowest, and the poorest, and 
 the most afflicted of mankind the nearest to the 
 throne of his mercy : far different, in this respect, 
 from Natural Religion, as it is called, the religion 
 of the philosophers, which makes the self-sufficiency 
 of wisdom a ground of confidence in approaching 
 God ; far different from the religion of the heathen 
 world, which gave to the rich and noble the almost 
 exclusive privilege of an intercourse with their 
 deities. But true religion, regardless of all secular 
 distinctions, all intellectual differences, makes hu- 
 mility the basis of true confidence ; represents the 
 universal Father and Ruler of the world as 'looking 
 down upon the children of sorrow with the eye of 
 tender pity; describes those, who stand most in 
 need of his assistance, as the most likely to obtain 
 it ; those dispositions of the heart being the pass- 
 ports to his favour, which affliction is calculated to 
 cherish and promote. 
 
 To have a title, then, to the merciful consider- 
 ation of God, we have only to be sensible that we 
 need it. The mere want of it will not insure our 
 obtaining it, nor the bare acknowledgment of want-
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 123 
 
 ing it ; but a genuine heartfelt conviction of our 
 own helplessness, and God's all-sufficient power ; of 
 our own absolute want of desert, and of God's free 
 and unbounded mercy. But let me not be mistaken. 
 When I speak of our having a title to his merciful 
 regards, I mean not a title intrinsically our own, 
 arising out of any quality inherent in ourselves ; but 
 that which God is pleased, of his mere mercy and 
 goodness, to constitute and consider as a title : and 
 in this sense, to be miserable, and to feel that we 
 are miserable, in the largest signification of the 
 words, is to be entitled to a favourable hearing from 
 God. " Bow down thine ear, O Lord ; hear me ; 
 for I am poor and needy : " poor and needy, not 
 merely as the children of this generation understand 
 the terms : but poor in merit, poor in righteousness, 
 poor in spirit: needy, not simply as standing in 
 need of worldly goods or comforts, but as being in 
 extreme and urgent need of his helping mercy; 
 sinking under the weight of our sinfulness, and the 
 fear of his wrath ; " Lord, save us ; we perish I " 
 Thus, then, it appears, that an awful sense of the 
 supreme excellency and greatness of God must be 
 accompanied by, or rather, I should say, that it will 
 be co-existent and co-ordinate with a deep con- 
 viction of our own necessity. The apprehension ot 
 our own danger, combined with the knowledge of 
 God's power and inclination to deliver us, will make 
 us importunate and eloquent in our supplications. 
 The deeper our humility, the more easily will our 
 hearts be lifted on the wings of hope towards the
 
 124 On Prayer. * [BISHOP 
 
 mercy-seat. The clearer our view into the depths 
 of our natural misery, the brighter will be our pros- 
 pects of the goodness and providence of God. 
 " Though the Lord be high, yet hath he respect 
 unto the lowly: but the proud he knoweth afar 
 off. " * 
 
 The second plea, which David urges for a favour- 
 able hearing, at first sight appears to be inconsistent 
 with that spirit of self-abasement, which has been 
 described as an indispensable qualification for him 
 who so prays as to be heard. " Preserve my soul ; 
 for I am holy : " or, as it is otherwise rendered in 
 the margin of our Bibles, " one whom thou favourest." 
 Taken in this sense, the expression has nothing pre- 
 sumptuous in it ; and even if we follow the common 
 version, " for I am holy," we are not to understand 
 that David lays claim to any holiness of his own, or 
 pleads it as a title to the divine favour ; but only as 
 declaratory of the diligence and sincerity with which 
 he had endeavoured to keep the commandments of 
 God, and to walk in his ordinances. How truly 
 sensible he was of his own want of righteousness 
 appears from the fifty -first Psalm : " According 
 unto the multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out 
 my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine 
 iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I ac- 
 knowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever 
 before me. Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; and 
 in sin did my mother conceive me. Behold, thou 
 desirest truth in the inward parts : and in the hidden 
 
 * Psalm cxxxviiL 6.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 125 
 
 part thou shalt make me to know wisdom." Truth 
 in the inward parts, then, that is to say, intrinsic 
 spiritual holiness, David altogether disclaims ; and 
 adds to his disclaimer a confession full of hope, that 
 whatever inward holiness he might possess (for that 
 is meant by wisdom) was given him of God. When, 
 therefore, he pleads his own holiness, as a ground 
 for his acceptance with God, he intends only to 
 urge it as a proof of his having heretofore found 
 favour with him, that he had been enabled to walk 
 uprightly before him, and to possess that principle 
 of holy obedience without which no man can see 
 the Lord. In this point of view, and in no other, 
 can we safely and piously contemplate our own 
 personal holiness as a ground of confidence towards 
 God. Of ourselves we are unable to do a good 
 deed, or to think a holy thought. Yet if God has 
 enabled us, in answer to our honest entreaties for 
 light and aid, to obey his commandments, imper- 
 fectly indeed, yet zealously and diligently, this is a 
 result of our faith, and an effect of his grace, which 
 we are permitted to regard with thankful pleasure ; 
 and to consider it as furnishing fresh motives to 
 prayer, and fresh grounds of assurance that our 
 prayers will be heard. " In the day of my trouble 
 I will call upon thee, for thou wilt answer me." 
 
 Another ground upon which David urges the 
 acceptance of his prayers is, his trust in God : " O 
 thou, my God, save thy servant that trusteth in 
 thee." It is obvious, that he who does not trust in 
 God, does not believe that he will hear him when
 
 126 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 he prays; and that is a frame of mind which is 
 utterly inconsistent with fervour, and earnestness, 
 and importunity in prayer. A want of trust in God, 
 as a hearer of prayer, is the great cause of formality 
 and coldness ; and it punishes itself; for the very 
 suspicion, that God will not listen to our prayers, 
 will prevent them from being answered by him. 
 Nothing more decisive can be said of the indispens- 
 ableness of an undoubting reliance upon the divine 
 goodness, than that promise of our blessed Lord, 
 " All things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, be- 
 lieving, ye shall receive : " a promise, which, indeed, 
 related, in the first instance, to those special inter- 
 ferences of divine power, by which the Gospel was 
 to be miraculously propagated through the world ; 
 but which places the necessity of faith in a very 
 striking point of view. If faith was requisite to the 
 obtaining even of those spiritual gifts, without which 
 the Apostles could not have executed their commis- 
 sion, it cannot be less requisite for obtaining an 
 answer to those prayers which relate to a far less 
 important object. 
 
 But here it is necessary to shut the door against 
 enthusiasm. The trust in God, which ought to be 
 felt by every one who approaches him in prayer, is 
 surely not a persuasion that he will answer every 
 petition which may be presented to him, or that he 
 will answer any, in the precise way which the 
 petitioner may think proper to point out ; but a 
 belief that he will forgive the ignorance which prays 
 amiss, and give us those good things which we
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 127 
 
 know not how to ask ; while he withholds from us 
 all that may be injurious to our final interests, how- 
 ever earnestly we may pray for it. But to expect 
 that God should determine any particular question, 
 in answer to prayer ; or that he should supply any 
 particular want, in the mode which we ourselves 
 desire, is to expect that he will interpose a special 
 providence in our behalf, and submit the compre- 
 hensiveness of his wisdom to the narrowness of our 
 limited and fallible understanding ; at the same time 
 superseding the use of reason, which he has given 
 us for a guide and counsellor, and which he will 
 strengthen and enlighten, but not constrain or nul- 
 lify, by the influences of his Spirit. 
 
 But there is still another ground upon which 
 David strengthens his prayer, and urges its accept- 
 ance with God ; the consideration, that it is not a 
 sudden and extraordinary overflowing of a devout 
 spirit, but its habitual expression : " Be merciful 
 unto me, O Lord ; for I cry unto thee daily." Since 
 " out of the abundance of the heart the mouth 
 speaketh *," where the spirit of prayer is, there will 
 be frequency, as well as fervency, in giving utter- 
 ance to it. It is a spirit which cannot slumber, nor 
 be restrained. It is awakened and invigorated by a 
 sense of sin, of helplessness, of ignorance. It is en- 
 couraged and animated, by a recollection of God's 
 promises, of his covenanted assurances. Equally 
 inconsistent with a spirit of pride and with a spirit 
 of carelessness, it rests not upon the false security 
 
 * Matt. xii. 34.
 
 128 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 of self-righteousness, nor is benumbed by the le- 
 thargy of an engrossing worldly-mindedness : but is 
 ever alert, and looking out towards God. It pre- 
 vents the night watches with holy meditations and 
 pious vows ; measuring the lapse of time by the 
 stated returns of its communings with Him who 
 inhabiteth eternity ; keeping its appointments with 
 God ; knowing that he waits for it at the times of 
 its refreshing. There can be no question, but that 
 prayer is as necessary to the spiritual sustentation 
 and health of the soul, as food and clothing are to 
 the body ; and if no day can safely be suffered to 
 pass, without paying a due attention to what we 
 eat, and drink, and put on, none certainly ought to 
 elapse unsanctified and unblessed by prayer. As- 
 suredly it was not without a pregnant signification, 
 that our Lord directed us, in his own simple, but 
 comprehensive, model of prayer, to acknowledge, by 
 implication, the necessity of a daily recurrence to 
 the giver of all good gifts : " Give us this day our 
 daily bread." The resurrection of the visible world 
 from the grave of night, and again, the departure of 
 the cheerful day, marked by sensible admonitions 
 and invitations to repose, so naturally lead the way 
 to devout thoughts and aspirations, that he who 
 prays at all, must at least pray then., Unholy is 
 the diligence, and unblessed are the slumbers, of 
 those, who " rise up early and sit up late, and eat 
 the bread of sorrows*," yet mark not the com- 
 mencement and the close of their daily intercourse 
 
 * Psalm cxxvii. 2.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 129 
 
 with the creatures, by a solemn act of homage to 
 the Creator. " When I cry unto God, he will 
 hear:" such is the language of confiding piety: 
 but who dares to use it ? He who can add, " Even- 
 ing, and morning, and at noon will I pray, and cry 
 aloud : and he shall hear my voice." * 
 
 And this reminds us, that another, and an indis- 
 pensable ground of confidence is, an earnest perse- 
 verance in prayer. Earnestness and perseverance 
 necessarily go together. In the Psalm, which we 
 are now considering, the expression, " I cry unto 
 thee daily," is also interpreted, " I cry unto thee 
 all the day." Our Saviour taught his disciples, that 
 men " ought to pray always," that is, perseveringly, 
 " and not to faint f ; " and instructed them, by the 
 parable of the unjust judge, that God will give to 
 pious importunity, that which he withholds from the 
 desultory petitions of the careless, or the hasty ex- 
 postulations of the impatient. Very emphatic are 
 the expressions of St. James ; " the effectual fervent 
 prayer of a righteous man availeth much." The 
 word which is translated effectual, means properly, 
 assiduously working. To be availing, therefore, the 
 prayer must be the prayer of a righteous, that is, a 
 sanctified heart ; it must be fervent ; and it must be 
 persevering. Still more pointed is the expression 
 of St. Paul to the Colossians ; " Epaphras, who is 
 one of you, a servant of Christ, saluteth you, always 
 striving [or wrestling] for you in prayer." Yet 
 this importunity, this fervency, this striving, are all 
 * Psalm lv. 17. t Luke, xviii. 1. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 consistent with the most unreserved submission, the 
 most perfect patience and resignation. " Behold, 
 as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their 
 masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand 
 of her mistress ; even so our eyes wait upon the 
 Lord our God, until that he have mercy upon us." * 
 " O my Father, if it be possible -J-," was the fervent, 
 earnest prayer of an agonized spirit : yet how was 
 it concluded ? " nevertheless, not as I will, but as 
 thou wilt." 
 
 The last motive to confidence, which I shall no- 
 tice, is the past experience of God's mercy. " Great 
 is thy mercy towards me ; and thou hast delivered 
 my soul from the lowest hell." 
 
 If we have been accustomed to seek the Lord in 
 prayer, we can scarcely have failed to notice the 
 returns which he has made to it ; not always such 
 as we expected, oftentimes widely different: but 
 generally such, as to manifest the hand of an all- 
 wise and all-merciful Father, controlling and direct- 
 ing the movements of our ignorance and infirmity, 
 and shaping the course of events to our good. 
 There is no man amongst us, who cannot look back 
 to deliverances from apprehended evil, and to con- 
 tingencies of unexpected good; and there is no 
 man, who will presume to say, that he either de- 
 served by his goodness, or was enabled by his wis- 
 dom, to avoid the one, or to obtain the other. If 
 these effects of the divine goodness have been 
 vouchsafed in answer to our prayers, they furnish 
 * Psalm cxxiii. 2. f Matt. xxvL 39.
 
 BLOMFIELD.] On Prayer. 131 
 
 an obvious ground of confidence in our renewed 
 approaches to the mercy seat of God. If they have 
 been freely bestowed upon us, without our seeking 
 them, are they not signs and tokens, that the Lord 
 only waiteth to be called upon, to give us a still 
 larger and more effectual measure of what is really 
 good for us ? He does indeed " give to all men liber- 
 ally, and upbraideth not." * "He maketh his sun 
 to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain 
 on the just and on the unjust." -j- His providence 
 comprehends, within the scope of its bounty, even 
 the thoughtless and the ungrateful: but his most 
 precious gifts, the gifts of spiritual wisdom, and 
 grace, and holiness, he giveth only " to them that 
 ask him : " yet his bountifulness in the one case is a 
 proof that he will readily listen in the other. 
 
 Such, my brethren, are some of the motives to 
 prayer, by which the faithful servants of God have 
 been animated and consoled in all ages of his church ; 
 such the methods by which he appears to stretch 
 out the arm of his paternal goodness, and to draw 
 his helpless, erring creatures to a near and familiar 
 communion with himself. To say that all these 
 motives subsist in their full force, and are appli- 
 cable to those who live under the Christian cove- 
 nant, is not enough. Every one of them is enhanced, 
 and strengthened, and made more influential, by the 
 peculiar disclosures and promises of the Gospel. 
 The divine goodness has been embodied and per- 
 sonified in Jesus Christ. God himself has " dwelt 
 
 * James, i. 5. . t Matt - v - 45 ' 
 
 K 2
 
 132 On Prayer. [BISHOP 
 
 among us, full of grace and truth." Is humility an 
 ingredient in the spirit of prayer? Christ has 
 taught us the sinfulness of sin, the true grounds of 
 humility, and its rewards. Is a holy confidence re- 
 quired? We have his promise, "Whatsoever ye 
 shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it 
 you." * Do we demand a proof of the divine love ? 
 " God so loved the world, that he gave his only-be- 
 gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
 not perish, but have everlasting life." f Must we 
 have some assurance of the future mercies of God, 
 from those which are past? All the grounds of 
 assurance are summed up and absorbed in this, " He 
 that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up 
 for us all, how shall he not with him also freely 
 give us all things ? " "J: 
 
 If a still further encouragement be needed, we 
 have it in the certainty, that our great High Priest, 
 who is entered into the holy place on our behalf, 
 now intercedes for us at the right hand of God. 
 " It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen 
 again ; who is even at the right hand of God, who 
 also maketh intercession for us." Let us endeavour 
 to obtain such a view of our Redeemer in that place 
 of glory, and that office of mercy, as may animate 
 our languid devotion, and cause us to delight in 
 prayer. Let us contemplate him in that heavenly 
 abode, where he is now waiting to hear, and to re- 
 ceive us : where he is now interceding for us ; from 
 
 * John, xvi. 23. f John, iii. 1 6. 
 
 \ Rom. viii. 32. Rom. viii. 34.
 
 BLOMFIELD.]] On Prayer. 133 
 
 whence he sends forth the influences of his Spirit 
 upon those who are met together in his name ; to 
 help their infirmities; to give earnestness and in- 
 tensity to their prayers; to sanctify their hearts; 
 to preserve them unblamable in soul and body ; and 
 to exalt them, through all the degrees of holiness, 
 to that place of light and glory where he himself is 
 set down with the Father.* 
 
 * Rev. iii. 21. 
 
 K 3
 
 CHARLES WEBB LE BAS, A.M. 
 
 From a Volume entitled " Sermons on various Occasions. 
 By Charles Webb Le Bas, A.M. Professor in the East India 
 College, Hertfordshire ; Rector of St. Paul, Shadwell ; and 
 late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. In two Volumes. 
 1828." 
 
 K 4-
 
 The Fear of God. 137 
 
 THE FEAR OF GOD. 
 PROVERBS, xvi. 6. 
 
 By tlie fear of the Lord men depart from evil. 
 
 JLHE fear of the Lord in this sentence may possibly 
 be used to express, generally, the principle of reli- 
 gion. And the sense may be, that this principle is 
 the only one which will cause men to forsake evil ; 
 in other words, that a reverent regard to the Divine 
 will is the only security for human virtue. And if 
 the text be so understood, we are not here to con- 
 sider the fear of God, as distinguished from the love 
 of God: but, rather, as embracing all the feelings 
 and motives, which tend to keep men separate from 
 every thing which God disapproves. 
 
 Nevertheless, when we come to analyse this 
 great principle, it is impossible to avoid the con- 
 viction, that the motive which drives men from what 
 is evil, may be very distinct from that, which causes 
 them to cleave -to what is good. In the order of 
 causes which act upon the human soul, the dread 
 of the Divine displeasure frequently stands first. 
 And its office is, to prepare the soul for the oper- 
 ation of higher and better feelings. In the first
 
 138 The Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 growth of the religious principle, fear is often the 
 predominant motive, and its effect is to cause a 
 movement from the way of destruction, towards the 
 way of life. But a departure of the feet from evil 
 is of little account, unless the heart abandon it also ; 
 and this it will seldom permanently and effectually do, 
 until a more heavenly influence than that of fear 
 has been shed abroad upon it. It will, therefore, 
 hardly be thought a deviation from the views of 
 the sacred writer, if we consider the " fear of the 
 Lord " as distinct, on the one hand, from that disre- 
 gard of Him, which marks the " children of this 
 world;" and, on the other, from that pure and 
 exalted love of Him which is the perfection of " the 
 children of light." 
 
 With those, indeed, who claim the latter of these 
 two characters, the fear of God, thus considered, is 
 a subject that may have lost much of its solemn 
 interest. Persons who have made some consider- 
 able advances towards Christian perfection are 
 likely enough to be impatient of " again laying their 
 foundation." The terrors of the Lord have long 
 ceased to agitate them ; and they are unwilling, 
 perhaps, to look back upon the painful and humbling 
 rudiments of their faith. And yet, I know not that 
 this fastidiousness is the sign of a spirit that hath 
 drank very deeply of heavenly things. It is well 
 known that some of the holiest men *, as they ad- 
 
 * " In my youth," says Baxter, " I was quickly past my 
 fundamentals, and was running up into a multitude of contro- 
 versies, and greatly delighted with metaphysical and scholastic
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 139 
 
 vanced in years, have gladly stooped from their 
 lofty and excursive flights, and have found no rest 
 for the sole of their foot, but in the prime and simple 
 verities of religion. The most worn and hacknied 
 truths often speak to the hearts, which have been 
 effectually roused from spritual death, a very dif- 
 ferent language from that which they convey to un- 
 awakened faculties. To the latter they are often 
 dull as the proverbial tediousness of a twice-told 
 tale. Nay, sometimes they may even have the 
 effect of spreading over the soul a heavier spirit 
 of slumber. To the others, they are always full 
 of deep and solemn meaning, which no repetition 
 can exhaust. A mind, on which the fear of the 
 Lord has ever had its due operation, will no more 
 recur to meditation on it, with weariness, than the 
 miser will be weary of surveying the locks and the 
 
 writings. . . . But the older I grew, the smaller stress I laid 
 upon these controversies and curiosities ... as finding far 
 greater uncertainties in them than I at first discovered, and 
 finding less usefulness comparatively where there is the greatest 
 certainty. And now it is the fundamental doctrines of the 
 catechism, which I highliest value, and daily think of, and find 
 most useful to myself and others. The Creed, the Lord's 
 Prayer, the Ten Commandments do find me now the most 
 acceptable and plentiful matter for all my meditations. They 
 are to me as my daily bread and drink. And as I can speak 
 and write of them over and over again, so I would rather hear 
 or read of them, than of any of the school niceties, which once 
 so much pleased me. And thus I observed it was with old 
 Bishop Usher, and with many other men." Extract from 
 Baxter's Life, Wordsworth's Eccl. Biography, vol. v. pp. 164, 
 165.
 
 14,0 The Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 bolts which guard his treasure from them that 
 break through and steal. By such a mind it will 
 never be forgotten that " the fear of the Lord is," 
 at least, " the beginning of wisdom ; " of that wis- 
 dom whose fruit is better than gold, and whose 
 revenue is more precious than the choicest silver. 
 
 But besides those to whom this text conveys no 
 valuable instruction, there is another class, more 
 to be dreaded, and certainly much more to be 
 pitied, who are disposed to censure it, as convey- 
 ing an expression positively wrong. Reason is the 
 power which persons of this stamp profess to wor- 
 ship; and Reason, as well as Religion, has, in all 
 ages, had her bigots, and her fanatics. The present 
 age has been by no means unfruitful in that " gener- 
 ation of vipers " (as the Baptist, were he now on 
 earth, would probably describe them). And re- 
 markable it is, how faithfully they copy the pro- 
 ceedings of the original tempter, " that subtlest of 
 all the beasts of the field." Their malice is guided 
 by the true serpentine craft. They apply their se- 
 ductions to the noblest faculties of man. They 
 address themselves to his thirst after the knowledge 
 of good and evil. They, accordingly, set at nought 
 the Tree of Life ; and they commend the Tree of 
 Knowledge, as alone able to "satisfy the cravings of 
 an immortal spirit. And when the precious fruit 
 hath been tasted, what is its effect ? 
 
 " They fancy that they feel 
 
 Divinity within them, breeding wings, 
 Wherewith to scorn the earth."
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 141 
 
 " They are drunk, but not with wine ! " And in 
 their moments of delirium their talk is such, as 
 fills all sober-minded persons with amazement and 
 sorrow. It may, however, be an instructive, though 
 melancholy task, to note down the reveries to which 
 they give utterance, in the dark season of their 
 insanity. 
 
 The fear of the Lord, then, they spurn, as a mo- 
 tive infinitely beneath them. All fear, they tell us, 
 is sordid and slavish. And all actions, which pro- 
 ceed from fear, must be sordid and slavish too. 
 Men, therefore, are not to depart from evil, from 
 the fear either of God or devil. They are to hear 
 of no reason for departing from it, but a native ab- 
 horrence of its turpitude. All virtue, in short, is 
 to be despaired of, which is not built on disinter- 
 ested feeling ; that is, on a complete independence 
 either of punishment or reward. 
 
 Now we have, here, neither more nor less than a 
 practical system of Atheism, though muffled up in 
 a disguise which, at first sight, has the semblance 
 of something noble and imposing. For after taking 
 away the fear of God, what safeguard have we left 
 for the integrity of man? They tell us, indeed, 
 that man is never without two faithful and trust- 
 worthy guides. On his right hand, is his moral 
 sense, his perception of right and wrong. On his 
 left, is his sense of what is useful and expedient. 
 And to these guides and supporters he may safely 
 be consigned ; and this, without the slightest refer- 
 ence to the will, or the power of an Almighty Judge.
 
 14-2 TJie Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 Let us see, then, whether the virtue of individuals, 
 or the peace of society, could be long secure in the 
 custody, to which these sages would deliver them. 
 
 1. Of the moral sense it would ill become us to 
 speak in any language that savours of doubt or of 
 disparagement. When man was created, it was his 
 privilege and his glory to bear the oracle of God 
 " upon his heart before the Lord continually." But, 
 alas ! the breath of a corrupt world hath passed 
 over this breast-plate of light and perfection *, and 
 hath dimmed its glory : and multitudes there are, 
 of whom it may be often said, that, when they con- 
 sult this oracle, " they look for light, but behold 
 obscurity; for brightness, but they walk in dark- 
 ness ! " That our nature is distinguished by a fa- 
 culty, whose office it is to refuse the evil, and to 
 choose the good, is unquestionably true. But then 
 it is also true, that this, like other human capacities, 
 hath deeply partaken of man's degeneracy. And if 
 we look to the actual history of the world for the 
 triumphs of this principle, we shall soon be con- 
 vinced, that the whole earth would become the 
 spoil of the mighty, were it left without the pro- 
 tection of any other law, but that which is written 
 in our hearts. The authority by which that law 
 was written \here, is constantly forgotten. And 
 the effect of this forgetfulness is just what might be 
 expected. The sense of moral fitness often dege- 
 nerates into a mere taste or impulse : a taste, too. 
 which is much more apt to exercise itself in the 
 * Levit. viii. 8.
 
 IE BAS.] The Fear of God. 143 
 
 safe retirements of contemplation, than to sally out 
 to a conflict with its adversaries. And accordingly 
 (" in the days of ignorance which God winked at ") 
 it founded schools of wisdom, where men, who 
 had wealth or leisure, met together, to gaze upon 
 visionary forms of virtue. Some happier and nobler 
 spirits, indeed, it may have urged to a " strife for 
 mastery " against fears and desires too strong for or- 
 dinary men. But where shall we look for its over- 
 ruling influence on the destinies of the human race ? 
 It might, perhaps, unaided, by any other principle, 
 do much to discountenance the grosser prodigies of 
 human selfishness. But how is it to arm us against 
 the daily and hourly incursions of temptation ? And 
 what can it be expected to accomplish in seasons of 
 bitter trial? Will it preserve the integrity firm 
 and upright, when the waters of adversity are out, 
 and all its waves are ready to go over us ? Will 
 the unaided moral sense accompany the children of 
 persecution to the mouth of the fiery furnace, and 
 walk with them in the midst of the flames ? When 
 virtue brings with her no dowry but poverty, or 
 scorn, or death, will the moral sense enable us to 
 choose her, in preference to iniquity, with her hand 
 lined with secret rewards? To depart from evil, 
 we all know, is sometimes a task so painful, that 
 nothing 1 can adequately illustrate it, but the cutting 
 off a limb, or the plucking out an eye. Will the 
 dictates of the heart alone brace us up to such a 
 sacrifice, unaided by the fear of Him " who is greater 
 than our heart ? "
 
 144 The Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 In the present enquiry, it should always be re- 
 membered that the advantages this world has to 
 offer are not clearly on the side of virtue. And if 
 such a state of things were to continue for ever ; if 
 virtue were to be always exposed to disadvantage, 
 without the hope of any recompense but that which 
 she dispenses to the conscience of the virtuous ; 
 man (as it has been justly said*) might have the 
 virtue to regret, that virtue was not made for him. 
 His moral sense, that generous instinct, might make 
 the practice of selfishness occasionally distasteful. 
 It might excite many a wish that we lived under a 
 dispensation, in which virtue could be something 
 more than a splendid vision. But would it give 
 him strength to forsake the course which it con- 
 demned? Nay, would it not be positively insane 
 to go over to the straight and narrow way, when 
 beset with nothing but loss, and contempt, and every 
 form of self-denial ? Would it not be to sacrifice 
 to what may be a mere impulse, one of the first 
 laws of nature ? Were virtue found to be at per- 
 petual variance with pleasure, or with safety, it is 
 absurd to imagine that she would long retain her 
 votaries. If " he that departeth from evil maketh 
 himself a prey," the followers of righteousness will 
 at last be wearied out. Whatever may be said of 
 her beauty and her dignity, men will desert to the 
 standard of worldly wisdom ; to a warfare, in which 
 they may hope to " have their portion with the 
 great, and to divide the spoil with the strong." 
 
 * Horsley, Serm. xxviii.
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 145 
 
 2. Let us next enquire whether that other guar- 
 dian of man, his sense of what is useful for the 
 general good of mankind, will do more for him, than 
 his sense of moral propriety and beauty? What, 
 then, are the fetters by which this principle can 
 bind down the unruly and depraved passions of our 
 nature ? Let us suppose each member of the com- 
 monwealth to be under an implied covenant with 
 his fellow-men, to abstain from actions which may 
 be at variance with the general interest. What is 
 there to secure this compact from daily and hourly 
 violation, when there is no witness to report it, and 
 no external power to control it ? Who but the man 
 himself is to interpret the rules of universal conve- 
 nience and expediency, in cases where doubt really 
 exists, or where selfishness raises the apparition of 
 a doubt ? Here then we have a law (if law deserve 
 to be so called) which is left to execute itself: or 
 rather we have a phantom which the folly of man 
 has drest up in the form and attributes of law, with- 
 out one atom of substantial authority to secure 
 obedience, or even respect. 
 
 What hope, then, is there that men will habitually 
 depart from evil, when they have delivered them- 
 selves from the fear of the Lord ? If a man hath 
 said in his heart, there is no God, or if he hath 
 once persuaded himself that the Lord shall neither 
 see nor regard, what is there to withhold his hand from 
 iniquity, when the eye of the avenger is removed? 
 What likelihood is there, that he will be induced to 
 cultivate and strengthen his moral taste, which can 
 
 VOL. i. j>
 
 14.6 TJie Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 but embitter his enjoyments with unavailing admo- 
 nition ? What prospect of his diligently studying 
 the law of public usefulness, which can be consulted 
 only to remind him, that the unbridled indulgence 
 of his passions will make him a traitor, and a con- 
 spirator against mankind ? And what must be the 
 state of that community which is intrusted to the 
 care of such powerless and shadowy guardians ! 
 
 But then, we are told, that the external and visi- 
 ble powers that be will come in aid of these powers 
 within us. But what, it may be asked, can human 
 laws do, if the powers of the world to come be 
 removed. Do we not know, that crimes are seldom 
 committed, but when there is some tolerable chance 
 of concealment ; that is, of evading the arm of the 
 law ? Do we not know, too, that there are number- 
 less abominations, fatal to private peace, and public 
 order, which no human law can ever reach ? And 
 do we imagine, that any law could long maintain its 
 authority, when deprived of its main support ; that 
 is, of a reference to a Supreme Will, the fountain of 
 all law throughout the universe ? 
 
 Equally rash and vain would it be to rely on the 
 fear of infamy to prevent disorder and crime. For 
 here again the hope of escaping discovery would 
 come in to pacify the apprehensions of disgrace. 
 Besides, what is it that wields this dreadful scourge 
 of public ignominy and scorn? What, but the 
 public opinion? And what is it that can make 
 public opinion a stern and -formidable executioner, 
 but the general prevalence of high moral feeling
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 147 
 
 the habit of looking upon a standard of virtue, lofty 
 and unattainable ; upon a form of excellence, which, 
 while it walks on earth, hides its head in the skies ? 
 To rely on the dread of disgrace as a preserver of 
 public peace, and individual innocence, is to take 
 for granted the whole matter in debate. It takes 
 for granted, that the sense of right and wrong, and 
 a regard to the public good, will, of themselves, be 
 sufficient to keep the public judgment pure and in- 
 corrupt : that is, to secure the integrity of the only 
 tribunal, by which, under such circumstances, the 
 quality of actions can be decided, and by which 
 sentence of infamy or acquittal must finally be 
 awarded ! 
 
 We dehy not. therefore, that there is what so 
 many have contended for, an eternal and essential 
 difference between right and wrong. We deny not, 
 that there is in man a power of perceiving that dif- 
 ference. We question not, that public usefulness 
 and expediency may be a very proper rule and line 
 whereby the fitness of actions may be measured, 
 and the conscience may be informed. And yet, 
 without denying these things, it may confidently 
 be affirmed, that there is wanting a much more 
 powerful, steady, and obvious motive for departure 
 from evil : a motive which may address itself at 
 once to the feelings and apprehensions of all ; a 
 motive which stamps wickedness with the character 
 of folly and of madness ; and which at once puts an 
 end to the conflict between self-interest and virtue. 
 The moral sense, and. the rule of public usefulness, 
 L 2
 
 148 Tlie Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 furnish, no doubt, very strong recommendations to 
 virtuous practice ; but nothing less than the fear of 
 an avenging Deity can ever generally enforce it. 
 The relish for vicious enjoyment may indeed be, 
 for some time, impaired by a sense of uneasiness 
 and remorse within ; but nothing will make it taste 
 of gall and wormwood, but this conviction, that the 
 day shall surely come when our sins shall find us 
 out, and our transgressions shall testify against us. 
 
 The reflections I have now offered, it will be per- 
 ceived, are not original or new. They are much 
 too important to have any novelty. They present 
 little but the convictions of many of the best and 
 wisest of mankind. The want of novelty, however, 
 is no good cause for omitting to stir up the minds 
 of men to an occasional recollection of these truths, 
 and to a sense of their immense importance. We 
 live in times which have been distinguished for 
 flagitious endeavours to persuade us that we may 
 throw aside all fear of the Lord: in times, there*- 
 fore, which assign to every individual a most mo- 
 mentous duty ; the duty of showing his abhorrence 
 and loathing for those false worms who, like the 
 first tempter, dare to say to us, Ye shall not surely 
 die, if ye cast away all fear of God, and all reverence 
 for his will ; but your eyes shall be opened, and ye 
 shall then be able clearly to discern between good 
 and evil, and ye shall be as gods ; as lofty and 
 spiritual beings, lifted far above the regions of mortal 
 prejudice and error. I say that it is a duty which 
 these times impose on every man, with a more
 
 LE HAS.] The Fear of God. 149 
 
 than common urgency, openly to trample on these 
 reptiles, who would thus bruise our heel, and in the 
 strength of the Redeemer to crush their head. And, 
 in the name of the Lord, I call more especially on 
 the fathers of families to do their utmost to guard, 
 by then- precept and example, the precious souls of 
 their children against these tremendous " evils 
 which the craft and subtlety of the devil or man 
 worketh against them ; " for thus only can they 
 hope to call down upon their household the blessings 
 of that providential goodness by which alone those 
 evils can be finally " brought to nought and dis- 
 persed." Let every man be, in his own household, 
 a priest of the Most High God. Let him show his 
 children that the fear of the Lord is the beginning 
 and the source of all his wisdom. Let his walk and 
 life be a perpetual comment upon the text ; so shall 
 he fix the religious principle of action with such 
 firmness in their tender minds, that no change of 
 situation or habit, no assault on the passions or the 
 reason, shall ever be able to dethrone it. So shall 
 he contribute his part towards preserving his country 
 from those horrors which, in time to come, must 
 shake it to its very centre, if the men of Belial 
 should succeed in persuading us, that we may walk 
 in safety without the fear of God. 
 
 And, in conclusion, I would ask, what on earth has 
 the man to boast of, who, from the pride of reason, 
 or the tyranny of his lusts, has been led to renounce 
 the fear of the Lord as the motive of action? 
 What has he to boast of, in becoming the wor- 
 L 3
 
 10 The Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 shipper of self, as he most infallibly will do, if he 
 discards all reverence for the Glorious Being in 
 whom all perfection is concentrated ? He affects to 
 believe, that the fear which religion impresses must, 
 in every stage of it, be an abject and slavish feeling. 
 To hear the cant of his desperate philosophy, one 
 would imagine, that all godly men were a faint- 
 hearted and feeble folk, incessantly goaded by the 
 fears of hell, and haunted by spectres of anguish 
 and of terror. Miserable and uncharitable igno- 
 rance ! The dread of eternal pains may, and un- 
 doubtedly often does, operate powerfully on minds 
 in a hardened and depraved condition. It some- 
 times awakens them to the folly of that desperate 
 game which is pursued by profligate and ungodly 
 men. It may introduce a state of the understand- 
 ing and affections in which more generous princi- 
 ples may take effect. They whose souls have been 
 struck down by these lightnings of the Divine wrath 
 often rise from their trance entirely different men. 
 Their agony of alarm is exchanged for solemn vene- 
 ration. Vice is no longer renounced from a low 
 and grovelling dread of vengeance ; but from a fear 
 of forfeiting the enjoyment of God's presence, and 
 losing the light of his countenance. Away, then, 
 with that perfidious lore, which, while it pretends to 
 exalt men into gods, would, in truth, degrade them 
 into daemons : which would deliver us from the fear 
 of Jehovah, only to consign us to the dominion of 
 " gods many and lords many ; " even to that legion 
 of follies and of lusts, which are sure to possess the
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 151 
 
 unsanctified heart, and to make it the haunt of all 
 abominations. 
 
 In urging this point, I have not been unmindful 
 of the Charity which now awaits the assistance of 
 this parish. * If the fear of the Lord be the begin- 
 ning of wisdom; if it lay the foundations of all hap- 
 piness and security in this life, and of blessedness in 
 the next ; if it be the guardian of states ; the very 
 life and spirit of all law ; if it be that without which 
 magistrates would be mere effigies of power, and 
 kings themselves little better than wretched actors 
 of royalty ; if it be that which holds society together, 
 and the want of which would soon convert all mortal 
 communities into scenes of mutual torment ; if all 
 this be so, how stupid must be the avarice which 
 throws away any occasion of giving a firm establish- 
 ment to this principle ; of laying, broad and deep, 
 this adamantine foundation of peace and happiness 
 in this our glorious and beloved country. I have 
 appealed to fathers in behalf of their own children. 
 I now appeal to citizens in behalf of the children of 
 the commonwealth, the sons and daughters of po- 
 verty ; that innumerable class which ministers to the 
 wants and the comforts of the community, and in 
 whose integrity and godliness the country, after all, 
 must look for its surest defence in the hour of peril 
 and calamity. I never raise my voice in behalf of 
 a charity school, but I feel as if I were begging of 
 my hearers to contribute to their own safety and 
 comfort, and that of their children after them. I 
 
 * This sermon was preached for Shadwell charity school. 
 L 4
 
 152 The Fear of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 never ask the assistance of any congregation for the 
 purpose of planting the fear of the Lord in the 
 breasts of the rising generation, without feeling as 
 if I were recommending them not to let their own 
 possessions lie waste for want of prudent care ; or 
 rather, as if I were urging them to prevent an enemy 
 from heaping up combustibles at the very found- 
 ation of their dwellings. We all know, that the 
 Lord never fails to glorify himself, in rewarding, for 
 Christ's sake, those who dedicate their possessions 
 to his honour. But if we become unmindful of his 
 honour ; if we think that the children of the poor 
 can be safely suffered to grow up in ignorance of 
 his name ; we do no less, than let loose all the 
 unruly elements of our fallen nature, to fight against 
 the ordinances of God, and the establishments of 
 man. We arm the powers of darkness themselves 
 against our altars and our homes. We sit watching 
 and counting our gains, while he, who was a traitor 
 and murderer from the beginning, is collecting and 
 piling up beneath our very chambers the materials 
 for our destruction ! If the fear of the Lord be the 
 only thing by which men depart from evil ; and if 
 the mass of our population do not learn the fear of 
 the Lord ; the inference is obvious to the dullest 
 head, and most callous heart. The multitude will 
 not depart from evil. They will live and move and 
 have their being in it. And if so, what a place 
 must this world become ! We see (as it is) suffi- 
 cient approaches to that misery, which is the heritage 
 of them that forsake not evil. We sometimes see
 
 LE BAS.] The Fear of God. 153 
 
 enough, almost to conjecture what must be the tor- 
 ment, and confusion, and anarchy of hell itself. We 
 see enough, surely, to convince us, that without some 
 commanding principle of restraint, all monstrous and 
 unutterable mischiefs would break loose, and make 
 this world a fit residence for none, scarcely, but 
 restless and impenitent spirits. And can we hesitate 
 for a moment to cherish those institutions, whose 
 object is (under the Divine blessing) to stop the 
 breaking forth of such ruin and desolation ? Can we 
 hesitate to consign ourselves to the protection of 
 Him, who alone is mighty to save ? And can we 
 dream that his arm will be stretched out, and his 
 hand uplifted, for our protection, if we adopt the 
 language of the adversary of God and man ; and 
 presume that the fear of the Lord may be forgotten, 
 in our designs for the prosperity and safety of our 
 country, or our neighbourhood? Let me remind 
 you, that every charity school, for the instruction 
 of the poor in the principles of our church, and for 
 their discipline in habits of industry and godliness, 
 is to be considered as one of the bulwarks of your 
 country ; as a fortress, which it would be madness 
 not to keep in repair ; as a monument of the zeal 
 and piety of your forefathers, which cannot, without 
 sacrilegious neglect, be suffered to decay. Blessed 
 be God, there never yet, within my recollection of 
 you, was an occasion, when such an appeal to your 
 Christian principles was made in vain : and I trust 
 it will not be made in vain this day.
 
 154 The Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOD. 
 
 1 JOHN, iv. 18. 
 
 There is no fear in love : but perfect love casteth out fear ; became 
 fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. 
 
 ON a former occasion it was my endeavour to 
 show, that no motives are sufficient effectually to 
 reclaim from evil, but the fear of the Lord. In 
 considering the subject, we admitted the essential 
 distinction between right and wrong, which so 
 many have contended for. We allowed, too, that 
 man might possess the faculty of perceiving that 
 distinction. And yet we could not but discern that 
 something more was necessary : that there was 
 wanting some grand overpowering principle, which 
 should secure to society the virtuous and steady 
 fidelity of her members, and to God their rea- 
 sonable service. We adverted to the moral sense, 
 on which many have professed themselves contented 
 to depend; and we found it, as it exists in the 
 generality of men, to be practically little better 
 than a taste, an inclination, an instinct ; or scarcely 
 any thing so strong or so unerring as instinct. We 
 considered, too, the rule of general usefulness and 
 expediency, and found it, at best, to be a law which, 
 however excellent, is left to execute itself; and
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 1J5 
 
 which can, therefore, do little to set men free from 
 the bondage of iniquity. Neither of these powers 
 can hurl back the fiery darts of the wicked one. 
 Neither of them can grapple with the powers and 
 principalities of darkness. The enemy of man has 
 their authority in derision. Nothing but the fear 
 of a Supreme and ever present Judge is ponderous 
 enough to overthrow the strong holds of vice and 
 wickedness, and shake them to their foundations. 
 Nothing but this can decide the contest between 
 self-interest and holiness, or stamp obstinate trans- 
 gression with the mark of insanity and desperation. 
 But though this assertion contains the truth, it 
 by no means contains the whole truth : it tells only 
 one portion, and that, perhaps, the least interesting 
 portion, of what concerns us, as beings that have to 
 meet their God at the bar of judgment. The fear 
 of the Lord, most assuredly it is, which drives men 
 from evil : but what is to enamour them of that 
 which is good ? The terrors of the Lord may 
 shake the inmost souls of those who are traitors to 
 Him ; but what is to bind men hi loyal and glad 
 submission to his service ? Never was it yet known 
 that fear alone wrought a hatred of sin, and a desire 
 of that which is opposite to sin. Another principle 
 must follow, or we remain in the gall of bitterness. 
 The love of God must be established in the soul, 
 or the agonies of alarm will have been endured in 
 vain. It is this which must heal the wounds in- 
 flicted by the fires of the divine wrath. It is this 
 which must raise up the soul from the ruin into
 
 156 Tlie Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 which it has been shaken by the thunderbolts of 
 God's righteous displeasure. It is this which must 
 repair and purify the shattered and polluted temple, 
 and make it meet for the residence of the consoling 
 and sanctifying Spirit. 
 
 If it were true, that the fear of the Lord is the 
 end, as well as the. beginning of wisdom ; that a 
 dread of vengeance is the only force by which the 
 Christian is impelled throughout the whole of his 
 career ; if this were true, there might be some rea- 
 sonable ground for a slander, sometimes directed 
 against the Gospel ; namely, that the virtue which 
 it teaches is taught upon low and abject motives : 
 upon motives little adapted to refine or to elevate 
 the soul, or to render it fit for the presence of Him, 
 who is the fountain of all perfection. But most in- 
 juriously do they degrade the worth of genuine 
 piety, who imagine it to consist in a cold and reluc- 
 tant choice of what is good, extorted from the fears 
 of a corrupt and selfish spirit. Most profanely, too, 
 do they deem of the Divine Nature, as disclosed to 
 us by revelation, who suppose that it can be satisfied 
 with a sordid and unwilling service ; with the ho- 
 mage of a soul still wedded to its own impurities ; 
 and regarding the rewards of heaven, not as a prize 
 and a crown of rejoicing, but merely as a lesser evil 
 than the penal sufferings of hell. A slave crouching 
 under the lash of an unfeeling master ; bound to 
 his service by no ties but those of terror and de- 
 spair; groaning under his daily toil with sullen 
 indignation ; this is no fit picture of the Christian
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 157 
 
 who does justly, loves mercy, and walks humbly 
 with his God ; whose heart has been visited by the 
 Spirit of adoption ; and who is a candidate for the 
 joys and the honours of immortality. In what can 
 a life, spent in belief and trembling, terminate, but 
 in a prospect of that abode, whose inhabitants are 
 doomed to believe and tremble to all eternity ? 
 
 I would gladly crave your attention, while we 
 endeavour to trace the progress of the soul in its 
 advance from that degraded condition, in which 
 fear is the only motive of reform, to that exalted 
 state, in which love constantly animates improve- 
 ment. The study will, I trust, not be unfruitful. 
 It will enable us potently to confute the miserable 
 calumny, which says, that the virtue of a Christian 
 is wholly dependent upon grovelling and unworthy 
 motives. 
 
 Let us, then, imagine the case of one, on whom 
 the waters of regeneration have been poured, to all 
 outward appearance, in vain : of one, who, though 
 brought into covenant with God, hath lived as an 
 alien from his church, and a rebel against his law. 
 And let us suppose him at length raised up from 
 his seeming death in trespasses and sins, by the 
 Sanctifying Spirit, speaking by the voice of a friend 
 hi loving admonition ; or of a teacher who is ho- 
 noured with the privilege of offering a word in sea- 
 son ; or, hi the secret upbraidings of conscience ; 
 or, in the more terrific accents of sudden calamity. 
 In the first moments of his awakening, he will be- 
 hold nothing but visions of terror. The powers of
 
 158 The Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 the world to come will appear arrayed against him, 
 and his spirit will be smitten down by the sight. 
 And in this period of his change, we shall look in 
 vain for an element of noble or generous feeling. 
 His alarm is that of a convicted criminal, awaiting 
 the sentence of the judge. His condition is alto- 
 gether abject and miserable ; for " fear is impotent, 
 and unable to advise itself." * But this tempest 
 of his soul may yet be ultimately succeeded by the 
 peace which passeth understanding ; for its first 
 effect is, at least, to recover the sinner from his 
 drunkenness. It may, therefore, enable him to survey 
 the perils which throng him ; to perceive the malig- 
 nant aspect of the foes that have conspired for his 
 perdition; to count the cost of that insane warfare, on 
 which he had gone forth to stake the concerns of 
 eternity, against the feverish joys of an hour ! He 
 may thus be persuaded to place the rewards of god- 
 liness on his right hand, and the wages of iniquity 
 on his left ; and then to weigh them in the balance, 
 one against the other. His " senses" may gra- 
 dually be " exercised to discern both good and 
 evil ( ; " to detect the " ingredients of the poisoned 
 chalice " when sin presents it, and to tell him that 
 death is in the draught ! The bitter lesson of self- 
 denial may thus, by degrees, be mastered ; till, at 
 last, there shall appear some semblance of reason- 
 ableness and truth in maxims, which before were 
 heard with coldness or scorn. The heart-stricken 
 man no longer bursts into mockery, when he is told 
 * Hooker. f Heb. v. 14.
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 159 
 
 that " the way of the transgressors is hard ; " that 
 " there is no quiet for the wicked ; " and that the 
 ways of heavenly wisdom are the only " paths of 
 pleasantness and of peace." 
 
 Hitherto, then, like the Prophet in the valley of 
 Vision *, we have witnessed the coming together of 
 the scattered ruins of the man. We have seen what 
 is little more than a meagre and lifeless image of the 
 perfect creature. But then comes the Spirit of Ho- 
 liness and Grace, the Lord and Giver of Life; and he 
 commands the wind (of which no man can tell whence 
 it cometh or whither it goeth) that it " breathe upon 
 the slain, that he may live." And when that breath 
 of life entereth into the reviving victim, what tongue 
 can tell the wonders of that resurrection ? Who can 
 set forth the train of heavenly hopes and desires, 
 which fill the dwelling, that before was tenanted by 
 all unclean and hateful things ? Who can trace out 
 the gradual change from darkness and confusion, to 
 the joys of that marvellous lignt which confers vivid- 
 ness and distinctness upon every object ? And, 
 above all, who can speak worthily of the first dawn- 
 ings of that celestial vision, in which Jehovah is seen 
 as the God who is love itself? When the sinner was 
 walking in the valley of the shadow of death, if he 
 saw God at all, he saw a God of terror, arraying 
 himself in wrath, against all who had sold themselves 
 to work iniquity and uncleanness. He now beholds 
 him as the gracious being, who is the shield, and the 
 exceeding great reward, of them that fervently seek 
 
 * Ezekiel, xxxvii. 7, &C.
 
 160 T/ie Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 the light of his countenance. He sees that the 
 avenger, whose rebuke is levelled against hardened 
 ungodliness, is the father and preserver of them 
 who are desirous to know, and resolved to do, 
 his will. Moral worth and goodness, therefore, 
 will henceforth be regarded by him, not merely 
 as the way by which to flee from the wrath to 
 come; but rather as the path which leads up to 
 the throne of God. The joys of heaven will be 
 coveted, not as the hire which bribes a venal spirit 
 to action or to endurance ; but as the state in which 
 this new-born taste and habits are to find their proper 
 indulgence, their most intense gratification. The 
 reward held out to his probationary sufferings and 
 exertions may indeed be infinite. But, then, the 
 very wish for the attainment of that reward is itself 
 the sign of purity and elevation of soul. It proclaims 
 that a mighty change hath been wrought in the in- 
 ward man. Glory, and honour, and immortality, are 
 now the prize for which he presses forward. And 
 who can believe that they are sordid or degrading 
 motives, which prompt a man to run for an incor- 
 ruptible crown ? What is the discipline by which 
 he must train himself for that glorious strife ? Must 
 he not lay aside the encumbering weight, and the 
 " besetting sin, and the filthiness of flesh and spirit ? " 
 Must he not have broken off all concord with Belial, 
 before he heartily engages in the service of Jehovah ? 
 Blessed be God, then, it is false that the obedience 
 of Christians to their Maker is either extorted or 
 bought. Our condition is not that of hirelings, or
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 161 
 
 of slaves. Let a fervid attachment to the service of 
 the Lord be once kindled in the heart, and it must 
 make all the affections of the heart alive to those 
 faithful promises, which point to an unfading enjoy- 
 ment of the light of His countenance. And what a 
 slanderer of God and man must he be,' who shall say 
 that such promises are addressed to mercenary 
 feelings ! If, indeed, it be mercenary for " flesh 
 and heart to cry out for the living God *," we well 
 may glory in our vileness ; and it may well be our 
 highest ambition to "be yet more vile." f The Chris- 
 tian who tints abases himself, may look with perfect 
 composure on all that men call dignified and honour- 
 able. He lusteth, it is true, after the " recompense of 
 reward," even as they that "fly upon the spoil." But. 
 his is a noble avarice. It is a hungering and thirst- 
 ing after all that is truly good. It is an appetite 
 that urges him towards the final perfection of his 
 nature. 
 
 But then we are sometimes told, that this love of 
 the Author of all Perfection is something too re- 
 fined and too lofty for human capacities : and that 
 men, by straining after it, have only worked them- 
 selves up into a fever of superstition, or have 
 dreamed away their existence in a sort of mystic 
 trance. And thus has contempt been often poured 
 upon all pretensions to this holy and disinterested 
 affection ; and the love of God, which casteth out 
 both servile fear and mercenary hope, has, with 
 heartless mockery, been, too often, driven out from 
 
 * Psalm Ixxxiv. 2. t 2 Samuel, vi. 22. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 T7te Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 
 
 real life, and banished to the regions of pious ro- 
 mance ! It has even been reprobated as the watch- 
 word of the deceivers and disturbers of mankind. 
 Of the state of mind which tempts men thus to scoff 
 at all that is pure and noble, and to slander all that 
 is too high for the reach of their own degraded 
 powers ; of this state of mind, it is not easy to speak, 
 without remembering the malice of him, who pre- 
 sented himself before the Lord, to ask, " Doth Job 
 fear God for nought ? " Would you truly ascertain 
 whether this love and devotion to the all-perfect God 
 is a fit object for human endeavours, enquire of your 
 own hearts, and see whether or not you find there 
 any thing which at all resembles it. Are there not 
 in all some elements, at least, of filial reverence and 
 affection ; of friendship, of faithfulness, of loyalty ? 
 Who is there that has not wept over many glorious 
 instances of disinterested devotion to some great and 
 good cause ; of generous attachment to some beloved 
 chief or sovereign ? Who has not felt his spirit ele- 
 vated and refreshed at the sight of these beacons, 
 which cast a cheerful blaze of light over that waste 
 of crime and folly, the history of mankind ? Why 
 then should we not imagine these emotions to be 
 combined, and consecrated to Him who, in the most 
 eminent sense, is our friend, our parent, our com- 
 mander, our sovereign ? Our nature unquestionably 
 is capable of veneration, of gratitude, of fidelity, of 
 allegiance. Why then should we not conceive them 
 to be directed to Him, who is infinitely more worthy 
 of them than any visible object of attachment ? It
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 163 
 
 is true that human nature is in ruins ; but search in 
 the midst of her ruins for the fragments of those high 
 and graceful qualities, those ennobling affections, 
 which we may well suppose to have belonged to it, 
 in its original brightness ; and out of these may be 
 composed an image, (a mutilated and imperfect one, 
 indeed,) but still an image of a true Christian ; that 
 is, of one sincerely devoted, with all his faculties, to 
 the Adorable Being who created, who preserves, and 
 who redeems him ! That philosophy is cold-hearted, 
 and vilely false, which looks scornfully on the dedi- 
 cation of all our powers to Him " in whom we live, 
 and move, and have our being." Do we reverence 
 the effigies and shadows of greatness here below ? 
 Is our ambition on the wing after the esteem and 
 favour of "man, whose breath is in his nostrils ? " And 
 shall our feelings slumber when they are courted 
 (with unspeakable condescension) by infinite wisdom 
 and benevolence ? They are not madmen, or 
 dreamers, " but speak forth the words of soberness 
 and truth," who affirm that no exercise can be so 
 healthful for an immortal spirit, so agreeable to all 
 its powers, so free from torment, so full of liberty and 
 blessedness, as a consecration of heart, and soul, 
 and strength, to an all-wise and merciful God ; and 
 that this is actually the condition to which every 
 sincere believer is incessantly pressing forward. 
 
 Observe this, I say, is the state, towards which 
 the Christian is constantly advancing. It is " the 
 haven where he would be ! " a haven, which, how- 
 M 2
 
 164; The I^ove of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 ever, cannot be reached without a frequent conflict 
 with tempest and darkness. In our passage through 
 this world, we have to sustain the buffeting of angry 
 elements, and sometimes to look upon the face ot 
 heaven, when the sun seems blotted out from it. 
 And often, when our affections would soar towards 
 the throne of God, they are beaten back by the 
 terrors of the storm, and " our souls are melted be- 
 cause of the trouble * " that environs them. And, 
 in those awful moments, we are tempted to believe 
 that the Lord hath forgotten to be gracious ; and 
 we cry to him " out' of the depths" with the voice 
 of agony and dismay. Thus much must, therefore, 
 be allowed to those who delight to look on the in- 
 firmity and humiliation of our nature, that in this 
 life no one ever was " made perfect in love." A 
 state of mind made up of fear, and hope, and love, 
 in every possible variety of proportion, must be the 
 lot of all, who are not living altogether without 
 God, so long as they breathe the heavy atmosphere 
 of this world ! But are we not told, that, of all the 
 heavenly graces, Love is the greatest, and the 
 noblest ? And can we doubt, that, of all conditions, 
 that is, beyond comparison, the most blessed, and 
 the most safe, and the nearest to perfection, in 
 which fear has the narrowest dominion, and love the 
 amplest? 
 
 The fear of the Lord, then, considered in its 
 sternest sense, as connected with notions of eternal 
 vengeance, is but the beginning of wisdom. It 
 
 * Psalm cvii. 26.
 
 LE BAS.] The Lave of God. 165 
 
 clears the ground for the reception of the divine 
 seed. It resembles the conflagration which sweeps 
 the face of the wilderness, which consumes its rank 
 and noxious vegetation, purifies its damp and deadly 
 atmosphere, and leaves behind it a rich and fruitful 
 mould, which will amply reward the toil of the 
 husbandman. But eternal barrenness and desolation 
 will still be its curse, if a generous culture does not 
 follow ; if those influences, which none but the 
 Holy Spirit can shed abroad upon it, be not invoked 
 and cherished. But if these be received into the 
 heart, there springs up a quick and vigorous growth, 
 which beautifies and enriches the ground, before 
 scarred with consuming fires, and bearing marks of 
 the " blasting of the breath" of heaven's displeasure : 
 till, at length, the " solitary place is glad ; the de- 
 sert rejoices and blossoms as the rose ; the glory of 
 Lebanon is given unto it, the excellency of Carmel 
 and Sharon ; it exults in the glory of the Lord, and 
 the excellency of our God. " * 
 
 Whenever, therefore, we hear it said, that the 
 loftiness and majesty of the Supreme Lord are pro- 
 per objects of profound reverence and fear, but that 
 it is presumption to talk of them as objects of love, 
 we may reasonably suspect, that a positive dis- 
 regard, or a total ignorance of God, lurks in the 
 secret mysteries of this philosophy. And we have, 
 then, nothing to do, but to turn to another philo- 
 sophy, derived from no human school, which asserts, 
 that " he who loveth not, knoweth not God, for 
 
 * Isaiah, xxxv. 1, 2. 
 M 3
 
 166 The Love of God. [c. WEBB 
 
 God is love." The Christian cannot, without re- 
 nouncing the privileges of his profession, hold con- 
 verse with such unfruitful notions and doctrines. 
 What is his adoption, what his access to a recon- 
 ciled God, if it does not deliver him from unholy 
 and degrading terror, and transplant him into the 
 regions of kindly and affectionate feeling ? To his 
 conceptions, the splendours of the Godhead are 
 softened by the incarnation of the Redeemer. In 
 the person of Jesus Christ, omnipotence is exhibited 
 to us in immediate communion with the tenderest 
 sympathies of humanity. Is any one, then, capable 
 of gratitude and confidence towards an earthly be- 
 nefactor ? (and who would be thought incapable of 
 them ?) Surely he must be capable of the same 
 emotions, towards the man Jesus Christ, who came 
 into the world as the friend and brother of mankind. 
 And how can he love this adorable Saviour, without 
 also loving the God who was " in Him reconciling 
 the world to himself? " We know that our prayers 
 and our services are presented before the Throne of 
 Grace by a Mediator who " was in all things tempted 
 like ourselves." Is there not, in this one consider- 
 ation, a virtue that banishes the tormenting spirit 
 of fear and bondage, and plants, in its stead, a holy 
 confidence, a filial reverence and attachment ? And 
 when once this dayspring has arisen in our hearts, 
 behold, is not the Spirit of Grace and consolation at 
 hand to carry on his own work, and to advance it 
 towards perfection ? 
 
 Would we know, of a truth, whether this prin-
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 167 
 
 ciple of grateful affection is alive, and progressive in 
 our hearts, let us examine ourselves by the simple 
 but unerring rule of inspiration. " This is the love 
 of God, that we keep his commandments ; " keep 
 them, as the rule and model on which our eye is to 
 be fixed, while our hand is labouring : for " he that 
 saith I know him, and keepeth not his command- 
 ments, the same is a liar ; and the truth is not in 
 him ; but whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is 
 the love of God perfected. And his commandments 
 are not grievous." No commandments can be griev- 
 ous which are obeyed from attachment, and grati- 
 tude, and admiration. I have said our obedience is 
 not that of hirelings and bondsmen. It is the obe- 
 dience of soldiers, who brave hardship and death, 
 Ivhen their heart is in the service ; and in this light 
 the Gospel uniformly represents it. 
 ' Let me conclude with one brief and simple word 
 of admonition. The Apostle, from whose writings 
 our text is taken, is more full and more affecting on 
 the subject of love to God than any other inspired 
 writer. His Epistle is supposed to have been writ- 
 ten in extreme old age, and when he was on the 
 very brink of eternity; on the confines of that 
 world, in which faith and hope shall no longer have 
 place, and in which love is all in all. So that we 
 may imagine the aged Apostle standing, as it were, 
 on the top of the spiritual Pisgah, surveying the glo- 
 rious inheritance of the blessed. And the airs of that 
 heavenly country seem to breathe upon him, and to 
 touch his spirit with the serenity and the mildness 
 M 4
 
 168 The Love of God* LC.WEBB 
 
 of a holier element. And can we wonder that his 
 speech should be of that temper, which formed the 
 bliss of the region he was contemplating ? Can we 
 wonder that his own near prospect of heaven should 
 deepen his anxiety for the eternal welfare of his 
 children in the Gospel ; that it should impel him to 
 remind them, that they would have to meet their 
 God at the consummation of all things ; and that 
 then would be seen the awful difference between 
 the spirit of bondage and the spirit of adoption? 
 " Herein," he says, " is our love made perfect, that 
 we may have boldness in the day of judgment." * 
 This is the end for which this frame of mind must 
 be cultivated. It is in the presence of the Judge of 
 all the earth that its triumph shall be displayed. 
 Think on this, ye " despisers, and wonder, and 
 (must I add ?) perish ! " f Let your privileges be 
 numbered, and weighed, and measured; and to 
 what do they amount ? He that is destitute of the 
 fear, or the love of God, may live boldly : perad- 
 venture, he may die boldly. But where are the 
 triumphs of such a life or such a death to be found ? 
 Where, but in the haunts of remorseless guilt? 
 Where, but in the chambers of wantonness and 
 unhallowed revelry ? Where, but in the assemblies 
 of men, who meet together to do the works of their 
 father, the devil? Where, but in the desperate 
 courses of those, to whom the death-bed of the im- 
 pious is a school of vicious hardihood, in which they 
 perversely edify themselves in sin ? Behold, here, 
 * Uohn, iv. 17. f Acts, xiii. 41.
 
 LE BAS.] The Love of God. 169 
 
 the triumphs of the scorners ! Behold the glories 
 of those who know neither reverence nor love for 
 Him, of whom the whole family in heaven and 
 earth is named ! And does not the aspect of this 
 unholy fortitude drive us back, and force us to seek 
 for another sort of courage ? a courage, which shall 
 enable us to stand firm and upright when the im- 
 penitent shall be taught, at last, to fear, and , shall 
 call upon the mountains to fall upon them ? Does 
 it not make us to rest, with tenfold thankfulness, on 
 the words of eternal life ; those words which point 
 out to us the only sure ground of a Christian's bold- 
 ness, the love of his Creator and Redeemer, mani- 
 fested in submission to the Divine will, and delight 
 in the Divine law ? Does it not warn us to flee, as 
 for our life, to the assurance, that there is a Spirit 
 of comfort and sanctification ; that He is ready to 
 shed abroad in our hearts the love which casteth 
 out fear ; and that all he demands of us is that, with 
 a teachable and lowly temper, we give ourselves up 
 to his influence ? And, finally, will it not compel 
 us to ask ourselves the same question, which has 
 been uttered by the voice of inspiration, " How 
 shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation ? " 
 
 This question, in the name of Almighty God, I 
 now solemnly repeat to you : may he impress it in- 
 delibly on your hearts. And be it our prayer, that 
 God the Creator and Avenger may awaken us to a 
 hatred of sin by a salutary fear of his Divine Majesty : 
 that God the Redeemer may save us from the 
 despair which, but for his mediation, the thought of
 
 170 The Love of God. [LE BAS. 
 
 offended Holiness must inspire ; and, that God the 
 Sanctifier and Comforter may soften our hearts to 
 that pure love of God and of his law, which casteth 
 out fear. To which adorable Trinity of persons, in 
 unity of Godhead, be ascribed all power and domi- 
 nion, now and for ever.
 
 GEORGE HORNE, D.D. 
 
 BISHOP OF NORWICH, 
 
 SUCCESSIVELY President of Magdalen College, Oxford ; Dean 
 of Canterbury ; and Bishop of Norwich. He enjoyed this 
 last preferment only three years; dying in January, 1792, in 
 the sixty-second year of his age, and in the twenty-fourth 
 of the Presidency of his college. Few are the divines of the 
 English church whose names are embalmed in a sweeter odour 
 than that of this exemplary prelate. Bishop Home fairly won 
 his way to all his honours by the admitted evenness of his 
 temper, the elegance of his taste, the charm of his professional 
 eloquence, and the almost poetical feeling with which he 
 treated the sacred doctrines on which he preached and wrote. 
 A primitive apostolical earnestness marked all his discourses ; 
 and in earlier manhood he was considered among the very best 
 preachers in the metropolis. There are yet those living who 
 have a vivid recollection of the impressive suavity of manner 
 which usually characterised his pulpit exertions. 
 
 On commencing his theological career he imbibed the 
 Hutchinsonian principles, and entered into controversy in sup- 
 port of their author. He afterwards measured a controversial 
 lance with the telebrated Dr. Kennicott, who had attacked the 
 Hutchinsonian principles ; and being a serious believer in the 
 mischief likely to ensue from the supposed discrepancies of the
 
 172 BISHOP HORNE. 
 
 sacred text, on a collation of the Hebrew manuscripts, Bishop 
 Home objected to the proposals of Dr. Kennicott, touching 
 his celebrated edition of the Hebrew Bible. The consequence 
 has proved the usual results of all similar warfare. The 
 good bishop's pamphlets, together with the Hutchinsonian 
 principles, are forgotten ; while the Bible of Dr. Kennicott is 
 justly contemplated as among the literary glories of the age. 
 Bishop Home was more successful in his attacks against the 
 infidelity arising from the writings of Hume; and all his 
 " Letters " on this subject are worthy the serious perusal of 
 both believer and sceptic. The published sermons of the 
 bishop are comparatively few, and too well known to be 
 particularly dwelt upon. Their leading feature is a certain 
 liveliness of imagery, and tenderness of expression. Harsh 
 thoughts terrible denunciations and unsparing invectives, 
 belong not to the effusions of this gentle prelate. But it is by 
 his Commentary on the Psalms that Bishop Home will be re- 
 membered by the latest posterity. For twenty years did this 
 celebrated work engage the anxious thoughts and the deep 
 concern of its author. His hours of rest and of labour were 
 devoted to give it its last polish, and to make it worthy of the 
 divine original on which it was founded. Setting aside quaint 
 and recondite lore, he strove only to make the strains of the 
 inspired lyrist comprehensible to the meanest comforting to 
 the most polished capacity; and he succeeded in the mi- 
 nutest particular. The manner in which, in his preface, he 
 dwells upon the continuation, and more particularly upon the 
 close, of his labours, can be read by no reflecting Christian 
 without a bosom warmed by something approaching to holiness 
 of feeling. Works like these are among the blessings which a 
 gracious Providence showers down upon a rising generation ; 
 and the authors of such works, exhibiting that purity of spirit 
 manifested in the conduct of Bishop Home, may be well nigh 
 confident of receiving, in the END, an " exceeding great re- 
 ward."
 
 Tlie Redemption of Time. 173 
 
 ON THE REDEMPTION OF TIME. 
 EPHESIANS, v. 16. 
 
 Redeeming the time. 
 
 JNiLAN is often in Scripture compared to a merchant ; 
 and there are three things more especially, which, 
 considered in that capacity, he is enjoined to pur- 
 chase at any rate. The first is the kingdom of 
 heaven, likened by our Saviour, in one of his para- 
 bles, to a " pearl of great price, which a merchant 
 having met with, went and sold all that he had, and 
 bought it." The second is truth : " Buy the truth," 
 saith Solomon, " and sell it not." The third pur- 
 chase we are to make is that mentioned in the text : 
 " Redeeming the time." And this, indeed, opens 
 the way to the other two ; since it is by a right em- 
 ployment of cur time that we come to a knowledge 
 and love of the truth, which leads us to the kingdom 
 of heaven, through him who is " the way, the truth, 
 and the life." 
 
 The phrase, " redeeming the time," supposes us 
 to have been formerly negligent in this sort of 
 spiritual traffic, and so to have suffered loss ; which, 
 therefore, we are to make up, by taking. every op- 
 portunity of trading to advantage for the future.
 
 174- The Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 The inestimable value and right improvement of 
 time are, therefore, the subjects suggested to our 
 meditations by these words of the Apostle ; in the 
 prosecution of which let us consider, why time 
 should be redeemed, and how it may be redeemed. 
 
 Time, little as men account of it, is the most 
 choice and precious thing in the world. " The mer- 
 chandise of it is better than the merchandise of 
 silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold." And 
 this God seems to have pointed out to us, by the 
 very manner of his giving it, so different from that 
 in which he vouchsafes his other gifts. For, whereas 
 he is graciously pleased to bestow many of them 
 upon us in large quantities, so that we can keep 
 some store of them by us, with time it is not so. 
 Of that there is but a moment in the world at once, 
 which is taken away when another is given. If, 
 therefore, the value of a thing rises in proportion to 
 its scarceness, what shall a man give, or rather what 
 shall he not give, for the redemption of time, which 
 is thus dealt out by Heaven, like some rich and in- 
 valuable cordial, in single drops, to the end, doubt- 
 less, that not one of them should be suffered to fall 
 to the ground ? We take no account of time, but 
 by the loss of it ; the clock which strikes, informs 
 us not that we have so much in our possession, 
 but that so much is gone from us ; for which reason 
 it hath been styled "the knell of a departed hour," 
 which rings out for the death of another portion of 
 our time, admonishing us to make a better use of 
 that which remains. The present moment only is
 
 HORNE.] TJie Redemption of Time, Ti75 
 
 our own. As to the future, God alone knows whe- 
 ther they will ever be present to us ; and for the 
 past, they are never more to return ; which is a 
 
 Second reason why time ought to be redeemed 
 by all means in our power, because, when once past, 
 it never returns. The merchant who knows that 
 there is a precious commodity to be purchased at a 
 reasonable rate, by which his fortune may be made 
 at once, and knows withal, that if he miss this he 
 .shall never have such another opportunity, what 
 pains will he not take ? How early will he rise ? 
 how late take rest ? How diligent will he be in 
 fitting out his vessel ? With what haste will he put 
 to sea ? With what earnestness and anxiety will he 
 watch the wind, and spread all his sails, to catch 
 every breath that may waft him in time to the port 
 for which he is bound ? This is our very case to a 
 tittle. Time is that precious commodity; by a 
 right use of which our fortunes are made for ever, 
 for ever and ever, to all eternity. And time, when 
 once gone, never returns. For where is yesterday ? 
 It is " with the years beyond the flood ; " and we 
 can as soon bring back one as the other. Were all 
 the princes of the earth to unite the wisdom of 
 their counsels, and the might of their kingdoms, 
 they could not recall one single moment. How 
 plain and obvious is this to the common sense of 
 every man ! But who is there that pays so much 
 regard to this well known truth as to regulate his 
 conduct by it, and to make his actions conformable 
 to his knowledge ? Where is the Christian who, in
 
 176 The Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 order to secure a portion in the glories of eternity 
 by a right employment of his time, useth half the 
 diligence which is commonly used by the merchants 
 of the earth to purchase an uncertain tenure of its 
 perishable goods ? But so it is, that, let us look 
 where we will, whenever the things of this world 
 are in view, we find men acting in their several 
 professions and callings according to the best and 
 most approved maxims of each ; projecting their 
 schemes wisely, and executing them vigorously ; in 
 a word, taking their measures as if they were in 
 earnest : whereas, behold the same men considered 
 as Christians engaged in the concerns of a better 
 world ; and a view of their conduct is really suf- 
 ficient to make a thinking unbeliever conclude, that 
 nine parts in ten of them either believe no more 
 than himself, or else that a statute of lunacy ought 
 forthwith to be taken out against them. If, there- 
 fore, we acknowledge that time once past never 
 returns, let us acknowledge, likewise, that this is a 
 good reason why we should redeem what is past, by 
 making a right use of what is present. And let us 
 act accordingly. 
 
 A third reason why time ought to be redeemed is, 
 the consideration that it must be accounted for. A 
 steward intrusted with the management of his lord's 
 goods, and a person employed to trade for another 
 should, of all men, be the most diligent and careful ; 
 seeing that, at a certain stated time, they are to 
 deliver in an account of what they received, and the 
 profits they have made ; upon the fidelity and ex-
 
 HORKE.] The Redemption of Time. 177 
 
 actness of which their future welfare is to depend. 
 By these two cases, our Lord has thought proper to 
 represent to us our state and condition in this life, 
 in the parable of the unjust steward, and that of the 
 ten talents. The goods and talents committed to 
 our trust, to manage and improve to the best ad- 
 vantage, are all the gifts of God, whether those of 
 nature, fortune, or grace ; that is, in short, every 
 thing we are, and every thing we have. Of the use 
 and improvement we shall have made of all these, 
 an account is to be delivered in at a day appointed; 
 and our eternal welfare depends upon its being such 
 a one as will abide the strict scrutiny of him who 
 committed them to us. The steward, who appeared 
 to have wasted his lord's goods, was dismissed from 
 his service ; and from the unprofitable servant, who, 
 instead of trading with his talent, buried it in the 
 earth, that talent was taken, and he was cast into 
 outer darkness, where was " weeping and gnashing 
 of teeth." Now time being, as I have shown, one of 
 the choicest and most precious gifts of God to men, 
 will, at the last great day, be accounted for with a 
 strictness proportionable to its value. Let us, there- 
 fore, take care that the accuser of the brethren, the 
 ever watchful and malicious adversary of our sal- 
 vation, have it not in his power to lodge an accu- 
 sation against us with our Lord, of our having 
 wasted that good thing committed to us ; of having 
 hidden that most precious talent in the earth, in- 
 stead of trading with it to the best advantage ; of 
 having killed and buried our time in sensuality, 
 VOL. r. N
 
 178 T/ie Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 sloth, and idleness. For this murder, like others, 
 will not always be concealed ; the hours destroyed 
 in secret will appear, when we least expect it, to the 
 unspeakable terror and amazement of our souls ; 
 they arise from the dead, and fly away to heaven 
 (whither they might have carried better news), and 
 there tell sad tales of us, which we shall be sure to 
 hear of again, when we hold up our hands at the bar, 
 and they shall come as so many swift witnesses 
 against us. The consideration, therefore, that we are 
 to account for our time will be allowed as a third 
 reason why it should be redeemed. 
 
 A fourth, and that no less strong and powerful 
 than the former, is the shortness and uncertainty of 
 human life. No man knows precisely when his 
 accounts will be called for ; but this he does know 
 most infallibly, that it cannot be very long, and it 
 may be very soon. " Why, alas ! does mortal man 
 think to live long, when he cannot promise to him- 
 self the next minute ! How many have lamentably 
 deceived their own hearts in this point, and been 
 suddenly snatched away 1 How often do we hear, 
 how often do we read, such a man is slain, another is 
 drowned, a third has broke his neck with a fall ; this 
 man died eating, and that playing ; one perished by 
 fire, another by the sword, another of a disease, 
 another was slain by thieves ! Thus death is quickly 
 the end of all, and man's life passeth away like a 
 shadow that departeth* ;" like a tale that is told ; 
 like a flower that fadeth ; like a post that hasteth 
 
 * Kempis.
 
 HOUNE.] The Redemption of Time. 179 
 
 by ; like a bubble that rises, and shines, and sinks 
 again into the common mass ; like a vapour that ap- 
 peareth for a little while, and then vanisheth. This 
 again is a truth universally acknowledged, insomuch 
 that it is difficult to be for an hour in company, 
 where the rapid progress of time is not made the 
 subject of an observation. And yet we are under 
 such a delusion in our reckonings of this matter, 
 that, although the time past be certain, and that 
 which is future be to the last degree uncertain, yet 
 we regard the former as nothing, and trust to the 
 latter as if we could demand at least half the days 
 of Methuselah, and had entered an effectual caveat 
 against any claim which death might have upon us, 
 until the expiration of four hundred years. Whereas 
 " though men be so strong, that" sometimes, and 
 that but very seldom indeed, comparatively speaking, 
 " they come to fourscore years, yet is their strength 
 then but labour and sorrow ; so soon passeth it away; 
 and we are gone." And what use does the Psalmist 
 make of this consideration ? It follows in the next 
 verse but one ; " Lord, teach us so to number our 
 days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom ;" 
 that is, teach us so to meditate on the shortness of 
 our time, that we may improve it aright to the pur- 
 poses of salvation. The same reflection, and the same 
 inference drawn from it, occur in the thirty-ninth 
 Psalm : " When thou with rebukes dost chasten man 
 for sin, thou makest his beauty to consume away like 
 as it were a moth fretting a garment : every man, 
 therefore, is but vanity." This thought melts the 
 N 2
 
 180 The Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 heart of the royal suppliant into a religious tender- 
 ness; and dissolved in penitential tears, he pours 
 forth the following most affecting strains, that should 
 be continually in the mouth of the Christian pilgrim : 
 " Hear my prayer, O Lord, and with thine ears 
 consider my calling ; hold not thy peace at my tears ; 
 for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all 
 my fathers were. O spare me a little, that I may 
 recover my strength, before I go hence, and be no 
 more seen." It may be farther observed, upon this 
 head, that we may learn an useful lesson from an 
 enemy. It is said of the devil, that " he is come 
 down upon the earth, having great wrath, because 
 he knoweth that he hath but a short time." Now, 
 if the shortness of the time allowed be an argument 
 with him for labouring hard to destroy our souls, 
 surely it ought to be one with us for labouring as 
 hard to save them ; especially if we consider what 
 that work is, and the difficulty of accomplishing it, 
 which shall therefore be the 
 
 Fifth argument adduced for the redemption of 
 time. Time ought to be redeemed, because of the 
 work we have to do, and the difficulty of doing it. 
 Did we see the husbandman dreaming away his 
 time, when all his fields lay uncultivated ; or the 
 generals of an army killing an hour at cards, when 
 the enemy was preparing to storm the camp ; or 
 a pilot asleep, when the ship was running directly 
 upon a rock ; and did all these allege, as the reason 
 of their behaviour, that they had nothing to do ; 
 we should think a madhouse the only proper place
 
 HORNE.] The Redemption of Time. 181 
 
 for them ; and we should think right. But why do 
 we not perceive, that there is not less of absurdity 
 and madness in the conduct of that Christian, who 
 wastes his precious hours in idleness, and apologises 
 for it by saying, in the same manner, that he has 
 nothing to do ; when perhaps the work of his sal- 
 vation, that greatest of all works, the very work 
 for which God sent him into the world, is not yet 
 so much as entered upon, or even thought of? The 
 heart lies fallow ; it is over-run with corrupt lusts 
 and evil affections ; the ground not yet broken up, 
 much less the seed sown ; and the time of harvest 
 approaching : the Christian husbandman, it seems, 
 is dreaming, for he has nothing to do. The world, 
 the flesh, and the devil, have united their forces, 
 and temptation is at the gates ready to carry all 
 before it : the Christian warrior is taking his 
 pastime, for he has nothing to do. The poor wea- 
 ther-beaten soul is driving, at the mercy of winds 
 and waves, upon the stormy and tempestuous sea 
 of this troublesome world, amidst rocks and quick- 
 sands : the Christian steersman is asleep, for he 
 has nothing to do. Our Lord bids us watch and 
 pray ; he orders us to strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate, by the narrow way ; he enjoins us to 
 labour for the meat that endureth ; his apostle 
 presses it upon us to work out our salvation ; yet 
 we can persuade ourselves, that we have nothing to 
 do. How is it then ? Are temptations fewer than 
 they were, so that there is no danger of falling into 
 them, though we do not watch and pray against 
 N 3
 
 182 l"he Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 them ? Is the gate grown wider, or the way made 
 broader, so that we may enter in without striving ? 
 Will the meat that endureth, any more than that 
 which perisheth, drop into our mouths without la- 
 bouring for it? Can we obtain salvation now, 
 without working it out ? Such news, perhaps, is 
 sometimes brought us, and it cannot but be agree- 
 able to flesh and blood. There is only one mis- 
 fortune, which is, that it cannot possibly be true, 
 the Gospel of Jesus Christ being intended for the 
 use of all ages and generations, and therefore re- 
 maining, like its divine Author, " the same yester- 
 day, to-day, and for ever." Nay, it seems to be a 
 truth as clear as Scripture and experience can 
 make any truth, that the world grows worse as it 
 grows older ; consequently, the difficulty of working 
 out our salvation is increased in proportion, and 
 fresh force is daily added to the apostolical argu- 
 ment ; " Redeeming the time, because the days are 
 evil." And thus much for the fifth reason why time 
 ought to be redeemed ; namely, the work we have 
 to do, and the difficulty of doing it. 
 
 The last reason shall be this : because we have 
 already lost so large a proportion of the time allowed 
 us for the purpose. For if we consider, how many 
 of our first years passed in a state of childhood; 
 how many more were played away in the heat and 
 folly of youth ; how long it was before we sat down 
 to reflect upon our true condition in this world, upon 
 the works which Christ had done for us, and those 
 which he had enjoined us to do, through his grace,
 
 HORNE.] The Redemption of Time. 183 
 
 for ourselves ; how high we might by this time 
 have stood in the scale of virtue, had we well em- 
 ployed the numberless hours which we certainly 
 might have well employed, and withal how low we 
 now stand, by having neglected so to employ them ; 
 I say, if we seriously consider these things (for very 
 serious considerations they are), we shall think it 
 but reasonable that we endeavour by double diligence 
 to repair former neglects reasonable, did I say? 
 We shall embrace every opportunity with joy, and 
 on our bended knees adore that mercy, so much 
 beyond all we could hope for, which has made it 
 possible for us by any means to redeem the time 
 we have lost. For although this loss, through a 
 strange thoughtlessness and blindness of mind, ge- 
 nerally troubles and afflicts us less than any other, 
 yet think what tribulation and anguish will seize 
 upon us, if by these means our work should be found 
 unfinished at the day of death ! How precious will 
 the hours then seem, that have formerly been thrown 
 away on trifles ! How many worlds shall we then 
 be ready to offer for one of them ? And who can 
 say that it will be granted ? Think on those wretched 
 spirits who mis-spent their time while in the body, 
 and are therefore now entered upon their portion of 
 everlasting sorrow. What would they give for the 
 opportunity vouchsafed us of being reconciled to 
 God, and bringing forth fruits meet for repentance ? 
 Could any of them be released from their prison- 
 house, and sent back into the world for one year, 
 in how holy and heavenly a manner would they 
 N 4
 
 18i The Redemption of Time, [BISHO* 
 
 spend it ! How deeply would they mourn for their 
 sins ! How fervently would they pray for pardon ! 
 How earnestly would they exhort others to do like- 
 wise ! What therefore they would do, to be de- 
 livered from the bitter pains of eternal death, let us 
 do to avoid falling into them. I shall close this head 
 with that amazing description given us by St. John, 
 in his Revelation, of a transaction which is one day 
 to happen : "I saw another mighty angel come 
 down from heaven, clothed with a cloud, and a rain- 
 bow was upon his head, and his face was as it were 
 the sun, and his feet as pillars of fire. And he set 
 his right foot upon the sea, and his left foot on the 
 earth, and cried with a loud voice, as when a lion 
 roareth ; and when he had cried, seven thunders 
 uttered their voices." But this wonderful and glo- 
 rious person has a message to deliver to the in- 
 habitants of the world, far more terrible than his 
 cry, or the seven thunders that followed it : " And 
 he lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by him 
 that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven 
 and the things that therein are, and the earth and 
 the things that therein are, and the sea and the things 
 that are therein, that THERE SHOULD BE TIME NO 
 LONGER." The proper inference surely is this ; 
 " While WE HAVE TIME, let us do good unto all men." 
 These, then, are the reasons why time should be 
 redeemed ; because it is the most choice and pre- 
 cious thing in the world ; because when once gone, 
 it never returns ; because it is to be accounted for ; 
 because it is so short and uncertain ; because of the
 
 BORNE.] The Redemption of Time. 185 
 
 work we have to do, and the difficulty of doing it ; 
 and because we have already lost so large a propor- 
 tion of the time allowed us to do it in. 
 
 In order to show how time may be redeemed, 
 permit me to lay down a few short rules for the 
 management and improvement of it. 
 
 First, Observe a method in the distribution of your 
 time. Every hour will then know its proper employ- 
 ment, and no time will be lost. Idleness will be 
 shut out at every avenue, and with her that nume- 
 rous body of vices that make up her tram.* This 
 method must vary, according to the different callings 
 and circumstances of mankind. They whom God 
 hath blessed with plentiful fortunes, which set them 
 above the necessity of engaging in any profession, 
 are happy in this respect, that they have more com- 
 mand of their time, and consequently may give a 
 larger proportion of it to the improvement of their 
 minds by reading, meditation, and prayer, as well as 
 to the employment of discovering and relieving the 
 wants of their poor neighbours. They, on the other 
 hand, who must go forth to their work and to their 
 labour, whether of mind or body, are happy in this 
 respect, that a great part of their time is laid out for 
 
 " It may be added, as a supplement to this rule Have al- 
 ways some work in hand, which may be going on during the many 
 intervals (for many there will always be) both of business and 
 pleasure. On this part of the subject read the Rambler, vol. iii. 
 No. 108. and consider well the instance of Erasmus, there 
 adduced. Read likewise Spectator, vol. ii. Nos. 93, 94., and 
 vol. iv. No. 316.
 
 186 The Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 them, and they are prevented from wasting it in 
 idleness, by the order of Providence. Be it their 
 care to consecrate their labour to God, by regarding 
 it as a penance imposed on them for sin, and per- 
 forming it in a spirit of contentment and resignation, 
 cheerfulness and joy ; even as Christ performed his, 
 looking for and hasting to that time when they shall 
 enter into the promised rest. In the morning let the 
 mind be seasoned with devotion and heavenly wis- 
 dom, to fit it for its employment ; and in the evening, 
 to prepare it for its repose. Let the Sabbaths and 
 the festivals of the church be in no sense days of 
 idleness, much less of vice and folly ; but given to 
 the works of religion and charity ; that they may be 
 to us, what they were designed to be to all, minute 
 representations of the Sabbath that remaineth for 
 the people of God ; little preludes to that everlasting 
 jubilee, that shall be one day celebrated in the 
 heavenly Canaan. Woe be to that man who wastes 
 these hallowed portions of his time upon the concerns 
 of the world and the lusts of the flesh, doing nothing, 
 or worse than nothing : stranger to the resurrection 
 of Jesus, the glories of the saints, and the joys of 
 heaven, he rejects the pledges of his eternal inherit- 
 ance, and throws those jewels into the mire, that 
 should have adorned his crown of righteousness. 
 
 Secondly, Be moderate in your recreations. Re- 
 creations, we all know, are necessary. It is the 
 Christian's concern to take care that they are inno- 
 cent ; which they will be, if they give rise to no 
 evil passion, such as anger, or avarice, too generally
 
 HORNE.] The Redemption of Time. 187 
 
 attendants upon games of all sorts ; and if no more 
 time be spent in them than is necessary to unbend 
 the mind, and fit it for a return to its employment. 
 But when recreation becomes, as of late in this 
 nation, a trade and a profession, and is made a means 
 of putting the soul upon the rack of contending pas- 
 sions, it no longer deserves the name, but is in reality 
 a drudgery imposed by the adversary of human hap- 
 piness upon those who will not give their time to 
 the service of their Maker. In one word, it is 
 Egypt and the taskmasters over again. From which 
 we have reason to pray that our good Lord would 
 vouchsafe to deliver us all ! 
 
 Thirdly, Cut off, as much' as may be, unnecessary 
 visits. Of all thieves, they are the worst who rob 
 us of our time, because for the loss of that no amends 
 can ever be made us.* And there are in every place 
 some who, being idle themselves, do their best en- 
 deavours to make others so ; in which work, partly 
 through a disposition in those others to be made so, 
 and partly through a false fear and shame, which 
 hinders them from fraying away such birds of prey, 
 they are too often suffered to succeed. An assembly 
 of such persons can be compared to nothing but a 
 slaughter-house, where the precious hours, and often- 
 times the character, of all their friends and acquaint- 
 ance, are butchered without mercy. And, perhaps, 
 there are few maxims that have more truth in them, 
 than one laid down by a great master in the art of 
 
 * On the Robbery of Time, see a most excellent paper in 
 the Idler, vol. i. No, 14.
 
 188 Tfie Redemption of Time. [BISHOP 
 
 Holy Living, " No man can be provident of his time 
 who is not prudent in the choice of his company." 
 
 Lastly, Examine, every evening, how you have 
 spent ilie day. For how can that man know the state 
 of his affairs who keeps no account ? The task, at 
 first, will be irksome, and the adversary will try 
 every way to make you neglect, and by degrees 
 drop, the practice. And why ? Because he knows 
 that no person who continues it will long remain 
 under his power. It will let you into some secrets 
 that will greatly shock and alarm you. But you 
 must know your follies ; how else can you reform 
 them ? Whereas, when a constant and faithful per- 
 formance of this exercise, the benefits and advan- 
 tages of which are without number and without end, 
 has brought you acquainted with your errors, every 
 day will correct those of the preceding. You will 
 find that God has given you time enough for every 
 good purpose *, but none to waste. You will soon 
 know the true value of time, and become an adept 
 in the management of it. And of this be assured, 
 for your comfort and encouragement, that the time 
 rightly employed, be it when it may, is with God 
 " an acceptable time ; " and that every day well 
 spent is to yourselves " a day of salvation." 
 
 * This seems to be intimated to us in that question of our 
 Lord, " Are there not twelve hours in the day ? " John, xi. 9.
 
 HORNE.] Lift <: Journey . 18& 
 
 LIFE A JOURNEY. 
 PSALM cxix. 19. 
 
 / am a stranger in the earth. 
 
 AND was it then peculiar to the son of Jesse, the 
 sweet Psalmist of Israel, to be so ? No, surely; it 
 is a character in which every son of Adam appears 
 and acts upon the stage of life. We have all a 
 home ; but that home is in heaven. We are stran- 
 gers in the earth ; we are here in a foreign land, 
 through which we travel to our native country, there 
 to possess everlasting habitations. The author of 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews having, in the eleventh 
 chapter, celebrated the Old Testament worthies, 
 and the wonders which they wrought, through the 
 * divine principle that was in them, sums up the 
 account in the following words : "These all died 
 in faith, not having received the promises, but 
 having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of 
 them, and embraced them, and confessed that they 
 were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they 
 that say such things, declare plainly that they seek 
 a country. And truly, if they had been mindful of 
 that country from whence they came out, they 
 might have had opportunity to have returned ; but 
 now they desire a better country, that is, an
 
 190 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be 
 called their God ; for he hath prepared for them 
 a city." 
 
 Agreeably to this account, if we look into the 
 story of those friends and favourites of heaven, the 
 ancestors of the Israelitish nation, we find them 
 sojourning in a land that was not theirs ; dwelling 
 only in tents, soon pitched, and as soon removed 
 again ; having no ground of their own to set their 
 foot on, save only a possession of a burying-place 
 (and that purchased of the inhabitants), where they 
 might rest from their travels, till they shall pass at 
 the resurrection of the just to their durable inhe- 
 ritance in the kingdom of God. 
 
 Such was Jacob's notion of human life, expressed 
 in his answer to the Egyptian monarch, who had 
 enquired his age "The days of the years of my 
 pilgrimage," says the patriarch, " are an hundred 
 and thirty years ; few and evil have the days of the 
 years of my life been, and have not attained to the 
 days of the years of the life of my fathers in the ' 
 days of their pilgrimage." 
 
 Look at the posterity of Jacob, the chosen people 
 of the Most High, after they had been delivered 
 from the house of bondage. View them likewise 
 dwelling in tents ; sojourning for forty years in a 
 vast and howling wilderness ; attacked by enemies ; 
 stung by serpents ; and in danger of perishing for 
 want of provisions ; but still supported by the hand 
 of Providence, and at length conducted to the land
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 191 
 
 of promise. Consider, O Christian, this history 
 and in it behold thy pictured life ! 
 
 When the children of Israel had taken possession 
 of Canaan, they might be said, in some sense, to 
 have obtained a settlement. But, in truth and pro- 
 priety, what settlement can any man be said to 
 have obtained, to whom will soon be brought (and 
 he knows not how soon) the message which was 
 brought to king Hezekiah, " Set thine house in 
 order, for thou must die ! " This was the case 
 with the Israelites, no less after their settlement in 
 the land of Canaan than before it. Notwithstand- 
 ing, therefore, the rest, which God had there given 
 them, you find David, in the ninety-fifth Psalm, 
 speaking of another future and distant rest, still re- 
 maining for the people of God, in a better country, 
 that is, an heavenly. And, accordingly, though 
 settled in the promised land, you hear him still 
 crying out, in the words of the text "I am a 
 stranger in the earth." 
 
 And what shall we say with regard to the Son of 
 God himself, when for us, and for our salvation, in 
 the form of man, he honoured this world with his 
 presence? Did he not pass through it as a fo- 
 reigner returning to the celestial mansions from 
 whence he descended? Did not he live and act as 
 such, and was he' not treated as such by those to 
 whom he came ? Yes, verily, he was a stranger 
 and a sojourner here below, as all his fathers ac- 
 cording to the flesh were before him, and as all his 
 children according to the spirit have been, and must
 
 192 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 be, after him upon the earth. The rule is a general 
 one, and admits of no exception. 
 
 A consideration thus striking and affecting, can- 
 not be without its use in the regulation of our man- 
 ners : and I have somewhere read of a pious old 
 man, who being desired by a young pupil and dis- 
 ciple to give him some one short precept which 
 might contain all religion in a little compass, and 
 serve, at all times, and in all places, for the direc- 
 tion of his conduct through life, replied " Only 
 remember that you are a stranger in the earth." 
 
 Let us, therefore, take this for our ground, that 
 life is a journey, and man a traveller ; and let us en- 
 quire, what manner of persons, upon this principle, 
 we ought to be ? 
 
 And here it will immediately occur to us, in the 
 first place, that wherever in the course of his jour- 
 ney a traveller may be, his heart is still at home. 
 Nothing can detain his thoughts, for any long time 
 together, from his country, his house, and his fa- 
 mily, to which he is returning. The spirit of man 
 is not a native of this lower world. It came origin- 
 ally from above ; and, upon the dissolution of the 
 body, will return to God who gave it, to its own 
 proper country, to the house and family of its 
 heavenly Father. These, then, are the objects, 
 which, if once we are accustomed to regard our- 
 selves as strangers and sojourners upon earth, will 
 continually employ our thoughts. 
 
 The end of our journey will ever be uppermost 
 in our minds, according to the precepts delivered
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 193 
 
 in the Scriptures, and the examples afforded us by 
 the prophets and apostles " Set your affections on 
 things above, not on things on the earth." " Seek 
 those things which are above, where Christ sitteth 
 on the right hand of God." " My soul hath a de- 
 sire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord ; 
 when shall I come, and appear before God 1" 
 '' I desire to depart, and to be with Christ." " Let 
 us go forth bearing our reproach ; for here we have 
 no continuing city, but we seek one to come." These 
 are the wishes and the expressions of men like 
 ourselves, encompassed with infirmities. Why, 
 then, are they not ours ? Plainly, because we mis- 
 take or forget our true condition in this present 
 world. We imagine ourselves to be at home, 
 when we are really abroad and upon a journey. 
 
 But although the traveller's first and chief delight 
 is the recollection of his home, which lies as a 
 cordial at his heart, and refreshes him every where 
 and at all seasons, this does by no means prevent 
 him from taking that pleasure in the several objects 
 presenting themselves on the road, which they are 
 capable of affording, and were indeed intended to 
 afford. He surveys, in passing, the works and beau- 
 ties of nature and art, meadows covered with flocks, 
 valleys waving with corn, verdant woods, blooming 
 gardens, and stately buildings. He surveys and 
 enjoys them, perhaps, much more than their owners 
 do, but leaves them without a sigh, reflecting on the 
 far greater and sincerer joys that are waiting for 
 him at home. Such exactly is the temper and dis- 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194- Life a Journey. [BISHOF 
 
 position with which the Christian traveller should 
 pass through the world. His religion does not re- 
 quire him to be gloomy and sullen, to shut his eyes, 
 or to stop his ears ; it debars him of no pleasure, of 
 which a thinking and reasonable man would wish to 
 partake. It directs him not to shut himself up in a 
 cloister, alone, there to mope and moan away his 
 life ; but to walk abroad, to behold the things which 
 are in heaven and earth, and to give glory to him 
 who made them ; reflecting, at the same time, that 
 if, in this fallen world, which is soon to be consumed 
 by fire, there are so many objects to entertain and 
 delight him, what must be the pleasures of that 
 world which is to endure for ever, and to be his 
 eternal home ! Flocks feeding in green meadows, 
 by rivers of water, remind him of the future happy 
 condition of the righteous, when " they shall hunger 
 no more, neither thirst any more, for the lamb which 
 is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and 
 shall lead them unto living fountains of water." 
 From fading plantations he carries his thoughts to 
 the paradise of God, where, in immortal youth 
 and beauty, grows the tree of life, whose tree never 
 withers, and which bears its fruit through the un- 
 numbered ages of eternity. Earthly cities and 
 palaces cause him to remember thee, O thou holy 
 city, heavenly Jerusalem, whose walls are salvation, 
 and thy gates praise, and the Lord God Almighty 
 and the Lamb are the temple in the midst of thee ! 
 He who sees the world in this light will draw its 
 sting, and disarm it of its power to hurt ; he will so
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 195 
 
 use it as not to abuse it, because the fashion of it 
 passes away ; he will so enjoy it as to be always 
 ready to leave it for a better ; he will not think of 
 settling at his inn*, because it is pleasantly situated. 
 He remembers that he is a traveller ; he forgets not 
 that he is a stranger in the earth. 
 
 We are not, however, to expect, that we shall 
 meet with nothing but pleasure and entertainment 
 on the road of life. The traveller knows he is to 
 look for difficulties and dangers upon a journey, 
 especially if it be a long one, and through an 
 enemy's country. The ways may be rough or deep, 
 the weather stormy and tempestuous, robbers and 
 murderers may attack him in the road, or wild 
 beasts spring upon him from the forest; and the 
 accommodations and provisions from which he is to 
 seek refreshment after his fatigue may prove very 
 ill qualified to afford it. Against all these incidents, 
 possible and probable, the wise traveller is fore- 
 armed with courage and patience, qualities with- 
 out which his expedition is likely to be very un- 
 comfortable. And here he finds his chief support 
 from the consideration, that all these inconveni- 
 ences will have an end ; that he is abroad upon a 
 journey, and that all he can suffer will be amply, 
 recompensed by the comforts and heartfelt joys he 
 is to experience at home. 
 
 Let the same mind be also hi the Christian tra- 
 
 * See a beautiful passage, applicable in the Christian sense, 
 Epict. b. ii. chap, xxiii. p. 212. Carter. 
 O 2
 
 196 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 veller, who is accomplishing his journey through 
 this world to another. 
 
 Let him not think to find the path always smooth, 
 or to tread continually upon roses. In a world like 
 ours, there are more thorns than flowers. Often, 
 in the concerns of life, will he find himself per- 
 plexed with doubts, and entangled in difficulties, 
 through which he must make his way with toil, 
 and not without pain. His passage will be ob- 
 structed by rocks of offence, at which, unless he 
 tread with skill and caution, he will stumble and fall. 
 Frequently, therefore, will he have occasion to cry 
 out, " Hold thou up my goings in thy paths, O Lord, 
 that my footsteps slip not!" " Give thine angels 
 charge over me, to keep me in all my ways ! " 
 
 As the road will not always be safe beneath, so 
 neither will the sun always shine upon him from 
 above. Life is a day, and in a day there are many 
 changes of weather. Youth is the morning, when 
 the sky, perhaps, is clear and serene ; every thing 
 smiles upon our traveller, and invites him to pro- 
 ceed. But, anon, all is overcast, and the heaven 
 grows black with clouds and wind. The hour of 
 prosperity is past, and the storms of adversity and 
 affliction gather round his head. The rain descends, 
 the lightnings flash, the thunder roars, and the 
 Almighty seems to set his face aginst him : " Fear- 
 fulness and trembling come upon him, horror 
 overwhelms him, and he says, O that I had wings 
 like a dove I for then would I fly away and be at 
 rest. Lo, then would I wander afar off, and remain
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 197 
 
 in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from 
 the windy storm and tempest." 
 
 Nor is this the whole of his danger. There are 
 those who lie in wait, at such dark seasons, to de- 
 spoil him of all that is truly dear and valuable. 
 Evil men and evil spirits endeavour td deprive him 
 of his honour, his virtue, his integrity, his religion, 
 his life his eternal life. The troubles of the world, 
 consuming cares, and envenomed passions, are in 
 motion, like the wild beasts of the forest, howling 
 and hissing at him from all quarters. Now he has 
 need of all his courage, and steadfastness, and it 
 behoves him to march on resolutely, holding fast in 
 one hand the shield of faith, in the other, the sword 
 of the Spirit, which is the word of God ; strength- 
 ening and comforting himself with those divine 
 words of the Psalmist, in the ninety-first Psalm 
 " Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder, the 
 young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under 
 feet. Because he hath set his love upon me, there- 
 fore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, 
 because he hath known my name. He shall call 
 upon me, and I will answer him ; I will be with him 
 in trouble, I will deliver him and honour him. With 
 long life will I satisfy him, and show him my sal- 
 vation." 
 
 Such are the dangers and hardships to be en- 
 countered by the Christian traveller, who, consider- 
 ing himself as such, and knowing he can no other- 
 wise attain to the end of his journey, encounters 
 them accordingly, and at length overcomes them all, 
 o 3
 
 198 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 upon the principle thus laid down by St. Paul 
 " Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 
 worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory ; while we look not at the things 
 which are seen, but at the things which are not 
 seen : for the things which are seen are temporal ; 
 but the things which are not seen are eternal. For 
 we know that if our earthly house of this taber- 
 nacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a 
 house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 On the same principle the Christian traveller, 
 like all others, takes up with the accommodations 
 he finds on the road, and learns to be " content 
 with such things as he hath." No traveller was 
 ever in greater straits than St. Paul. But hear 
 what he says of himself " I have learned, in what- 
 soever state I am, therewith to be content. I 
 know both how to be abased, and I know how to 
 abound ; every where and in all things I am in- 
 structed, both to be full and to be hungry, both to 
 abound and to suffer need." Were we settled upon 
 earth for ever, there would be some excuse for our 
 being solicitous where we lived, what we ate, what 
 we drank, and wherewithal we were clothed. But 
 when we consider in how very short a time it will 
 be exactly the same thing, whether we dwelt in a 
 palace, or a cottage ; whether we sat down to two 
 courses or two dishes ; whether our garments were 
 made of silk, or of wool; whether we were waited on by 
 twenty servants, or by one ; it is not worth while to 
 break the peace of our minds about such unessential
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 199 
 
 circumstances. If God vouchsafe us a share of the 
 good things of the world in our passage through it, 
 let us enjoy them with thankfulness, and let us be 
 charitable and kind to our fellow-travellers who are 
 not so well provided for. If such good tilings are 
 denied us, still let us be thankful for what we have. 
 It is far better to want them than to be wedded to 
 them. Let us not forget, that he who ti avels, as 
 well as he who " contends for the mastery," must 
 be " temperate in all things," if he would travel 
 with ease and pleasure : and therefore, considering 
 the difficulty of continuing so in the midst of plenty, 
 it is happy for us, generally speaking, when tempt- 
 ations to be otherwise are not thrown in our way. 
 " I beseech you," says St. Peter, " as strangers and 
 pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war 
 against the soul." We are strangers and pilgrims. 
 We must up, and be moving on. The Lord of life, 
 to show that on the earth he had no abiding city, 
 was born at an inn ; and there was no room for him 
 but in the stable. Such were the accommodations 
 with which he was content. What he once said 
 to his disciples, he says to all " Arise, let us go 
 hence." 
 
 But it is not enough that the Christian traveller 
 be content. Let him be cheerful, and beguile the 
 tediousness of the way with a sacred song 
 " Awake up, my glory ; awake, lute and harp I I 
 will praise thee, O Lord, among the people, I will 
 sing unto thee among the nations. For thy mercy is 
 great unto the heavens, and thy truth unto the 
 o 4
 
 200 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 clouds. I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live, 
 I will praise my God while I have my being. And 
 so shall my words please him ; my joy shall be in 
 the Lord." This is the language of the very same 
 person who says, in the text, " I am a stranger in 
 the earth." Thus it was, that he consoled himself 
 under the fatigues of his journey, and rejoiced even 
 in tribulation ; because every step he set, however 
 painful, brought him nearer to his eternal home. 
 Consider the case of those two travellers, Paul and 
 Silas, in the dungeon of a prison, at the dead of 
 midnight, with their feet fast in the stocks. And 
 in this situation how did they employ themselves ? 
 In groaning and lamenting ? No ; they " prayed and 
 sang praises unto God." Let us hear no more of 
 murmuring and complaining. In all things let us 
 give thanks ; and be able to say, with David, " Thy 
 statutes have been my songs in the house of my 
 pilgrimage." 
 
 It will greatly contribute towards relieving the 
 sufferings and hardships of our journey, if we can 
 have the company of some of like sentiments, tem- 
 pers, and dispositions, who are travelling the same 
 way, with whom we may converse about the country 
 to which we are all going, consult upon the best 
 means of arriving safely at it, and mutually com- 
 municate our observations upon the objects that 
 present themselves, and the incidents that happen 
 upon the road. " They that fear thee," says the 
 Psalmist, " will be glad when they see me, because 
 I have hoped in thy word. I am a companion of all
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 201 
 
 them that fear thee, and keep thy precepts We 
 
 took sweet counsel together, and walked to the 
 house of God as friends." He who travels alone will 
 often find himself weary and melancholy ; he will 
 often want help and assistance. As the wise man 
 observes, " Two are better than one ; for, if they 
 fall (and who can at any time be assured he shall 
 not ?) the one will help up his fellow." Much does 
 it concern us, in making our connections and choos- 
 ing our friends, to make and choose such as will 
 forward us on our way, and continue with us unto 
 the end; and it is happy for us when they, who 
 stand in the nearest relation to us, and with whom 
 we must, of necessity, spend the greatest part of 
 our time, are of this sort. Blessed are they who 
 thus go through life together, in peace and love, 
 comforting and encouraging one another, and talking 
 of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. 
 To these heirs of salvation angels delight to mi- 
 nister ; and that which happened to the two disciples 
 upon the road to Emmaus, will happen to them j 
 " Jesus himself," though they do not know it, " will 
 draw near, and go with them." 
 
 With such companions, and such a guide, our 
 journey will seem short, because it will become 
 pleasant ; and there will be nothing formidable even 
 in the last and worst part of it, death itself. In the 
 history which the Scripture gives us of good men in 
 old time, it is worth observing, that their dying 
 appears to have been a circumstance as easy and 
 indifferent to them as to the historian who relates
 
 202 Life a Journey. [BISHOP 
 
 it. With Moses it is only, Go up to mount Nebo, 
 and die ; with Aaron, Ascend to mount Hor, and do 
 the same. And before them, we find the holy 
 patriarchs, when the appointed hour came, calling 
 their children about them, bequeathing to posterity 
 the promised blessing of salvation by Messiah, 
 gathering up their feet into the bed, and dying with 
 the same satisfaction and complacency as they would 
 have fallen asleep. And why? but because having 
 been always accustomed to think of themselves as 
 strangers in the earth, they constantly regarded 
 death as a departure to that other and better coun- 
 try of which they lived in perpetual expectation, and 
 could not, therefore, be surprised or alarmed at 
 being called to take possession, as knowing they 
 began their journey in order to finish it. Could we 
 think as they did, we should live as they did, and 
 die as they did. Nor should we grieve for the dead 
 who have died in the Lord. They have only passed 
 us upon the road, and are gone, as it were, to pre- 
 pare for our reception. And surely, in the journey 
 of life, as in other journeys, it is a pleasing reflec- 
 tion that, whatever usage we may meet with abroad 
 (and strangers do not often meet with the best), we 
 have friends who are thinking of us at home, and 
 will receive us with joy when our journey is at an 
 end. And, lo, the heavens are opened, and the 
 habitations of the blessed disclose themselves to 
 view. The glorious company of the apostles, the 
 goodly fellowship of the prophets, the noble army of 
 martyrs ; all that have departed hence, from the
 
 HORNE.] Life a Journey. 203 
 
 beginning of the world, in the faith and fear of God, 
 a great multitude, which no man can number, are 
 seen standing in white robes, with palms in their 
 hands. They beckon us away 'to those blissful 
 regions from whence sin and sorrow are for ever 
 excluded, and into which they who are admitted 
 " go no more out." All once, like us, trod with 
 many a toilsome step this valley of weeping; all 
 once were " strangers in the earth." Now they 
 rest from their labours, and are entered into the 
 joy of their Lord. They have accomplished happily 
 their journey, and through faith and patience have 
 inherited the promises A seraph's voice, from the 
 eternal throne, calls to every one of us " Go, and 
 do thou likewise."
 
 SAMUEL HORSLEY, D.D. 
 
 BISHOP OF ST. ASAPH, 
 
 PREVIOUSLY Dean of Westminster, Bishop of St. David's, 
 and Bishop of Rochester. Born 1733; died 1806: after he 
 had been Bishop of St. Asaph only four years. Of the earlier 
 life of this extraordinary man very little is known with ac- 
 curacy, and even that little is divested of general interest. That 
 it was an active, if not an agitated, life, there is every reason- 
 able ground to imagine. Dr. Horsley lived in a period of 
 peculiar excitement; and whether that period be marked by 
 his studies as a scholar, a mathematician, a divine, a con- 
 troversialist, a senator, or a prelate, there is very much to 
 arrest our attention and elicit our applause. His earlier 
 efforts, ripened and matured in the magnificent publication of 
 Newton's Works (1779), of which he was the editor, were con- 
 fined chiefly to the mathematics. The Transactions of the 
 Royal Society exhibit his successful exertions in philosophical 
 research, while its annals make known the sturdy and un- 
 bending opposition which he displayed towards the president 
 and leading members of the council. An antagonist, of no 
 common calibre, quickly called his attention another way ; and 
 Dr. Priestley was doomed, by his own precipitancy and indis- 
 cretion, to receive one of the most extraordinary and tremen- 
 dous chastisements which was ever inflicted by one contro- 
 versialist upon another. The cause was vital in its literal 
 and most awful sense. Dr. Priestley came forward to strip 
 Christianity of its divine original, and to level its hopes with 
 those of the mere Socinian. If he was sincere in his belief,
 
 306 BISHOP HORSLEY. 
 
 he was greatly deficient in a knowledge of the grounds upon 
 which that belief was formed ; and his reading and reasoning 
 were alike attacked and overthrown by the profound learning 
 and irresistible logic of Dr. Horsley. Dr. Priestley returned to 
 the charge, and his antagonist was as quickly pressing upon 
 him. The contest was sharp and protracted : but there was 
 no approximation to equality of powers in the combatants. In 
 learning, in force of deduction, in eloquence of style, and 
 power of appeal, the victory was wholly Dr. Horsley's. 
 
 Such labours, in the cause of his profession, or, rather, in 
 that of the Christian religion, were rewarded as they well 
 merited to be. In 1 788, Lord Thurlow, the chancellor, re- 
 commended Dr. Horsley to fill the vacant bishopric of St. 
 David's ; and in 1 793 he was preferred, through the same 
 channel, to the deanery of Westminster and the see of Rochester 
 In 1802, he gave up all his other preferments on becoming 
 Bishop of St. Asaph. His charges as a prelate, and his 
 speeches as a senator have been greatly admired. They display 
 that strong capacity of reasoning, and of expression, not un- 
 frequently accompanied by dictatorialness of manner in the 
 delivery, for which this prelate was peculiarly distinguished. 
 The times were, however, feverish and out of joint ; and those 
 who might object to the violence of the dogma, could not but 
 admire the zeal and sincerity with which that dogma was de- 
 livered. The sermons of this eminent divine are, many of them, 
 of the very highest class. Uncompromising, stern, and dictatorial. 
 as may be the air of his more learned discourses, those, adapting 
 themselves to the understandings of ordinary readers, are em- 
 phatically marked by originality of thinking, strength of ex- 
 pression, power of persuasion, and, at times, an extraordinary 
 eloquence in the treatment of the more striking features of the 
 text The present century has produced no discourses which 
 exceed those of Dr. Horsley in the characteristics here ex- 
 pressed. The ensuing, and that with which the volume termi - 
 nates, are selected with a view to their general usefulness at th 
 present moment.
 
 207 
 
 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 
 MARK, ii. 27. 
 
 The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath. 
 
 WHAT is affirmed of the Sabbath, in these remark- 
 able words, is equally true of all the ordinances of 
 external worship. The maxim, therefore, is general ; 
 and, at the same time that it establishes a distinc- 
 tion between the primary duties and the positive 
 institutions of religion, it clearly defines the circum- 
 stance in which the difference consists. Of the 
 positive institutions of religion, even of those of 
 Divine appointment, whatever sanctity may be de- 
 rived to them from the will of God, which is indeed 
 the supreme rule and proper foundation of human 
 duty, whatever importance may belong to them, 
 as necessary means for the attainment of the noblest 
 end, the improvement of man's moral character, and 
 the consequent advancement of his happiness, 
 yet we have our Lord's authority to say, that the 
 observance of them is not itself the end for which 
 man was created : man was not made for these. Of 
 natural duties we affirm the contrary : the acqui-
 
 208 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 sition of that virtue which consists in the habitual 
 love and practice of them is the very final cause of 
 man's existence. The intrinsic worth and seemliness 
 of that virtue is so great, that it may be presumed 
 to be the motive which determined the will of God 
 to create beings with capacities for the attainment. 
 These, therefore, are the things for which man was 
 made : they were not made for him. They derive 
 not their importance from a temporary subserviency 
 to the interests of man in his present condition, 
 to the happiness and preservation of the individual, 
 or of the kind. They are no part of an arbitrary 
 discipline, contrived, after man was formed, for the 
 trial and exercise of his obedience. Their worth is 
 in the things themselves. In authority, they are 
 higher than law, in time, older than creation, 
 in worth, more valuable than the universe. The 
 positive precepts of religion, on the contrary, are of 
 the nature of political institutions, which are good or 
 bad in relation only to the interests of particular 
 communities. These, therefore, were made for man. 
 And although man hath no authority to give himself 
 a general dispensation from any law, which hath the 
 sanction of his Maker's will, yet, since God hath 
 given him faculties to distinguish between things for 
 which he is made and things which are made for him, 
 it is every man's duty, in the application of God's 
 general laws to his own conduct on particular oc- 
 casions, to attend to this distinction. If, by an af- 
 fected precision in the exercises of external devotion, 
 while he disregards the great duties of morality, he
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 209 
 
 thinks that he satisfies the end of his creation, if 
 he sets sacrifice in competition with mercy, as the 
 Jews did, when, under the pretence of rich offerings 
 to the temple, they defrauded their parents in their 
 old age of the support which was their due, and 
 when they took advantage of the rigour with which 
 their law enjoined the observance of the Sabbath, 
 to excuse themselves on that day from offices of 
 charity, while they could dispense with the institu- 
 tion for the preservation of their own property, 
 whoever, after these examples, thinks to commute 
 for natural duties by an exact observance of positive 
 institutions, deceives himself, and offers the highest 
 indignity to God, in believing, or affecting to be- 
 lieve, that he will judge of the conduct of moral 
 agents otherwise than according to the truth of 
 things, that he will prefer the means to the end, 
 the subordinate to the primary duties. On the 
 other hand, the wilful neglect of the ordinances of 
 religion, under a pretence of a general attention to 
 the weightier matters of the law, argues either a 
 criminal security or a profane indifference. No 
 one, whatever pretensions he may make, can have a 
 just sense of the importance and the difficulty of 
 virtuous attainments, who, in mere indolence, de- 
 sires to release himself from a discipline which may 
 diminish the difficulty and insure the effect : nor is 
 it consistent with just apprehensions of the Divine 
 wisdom, to suppose that the means which God hath 
 appointed in subservience to any end, may be 
 neglected with impunity. A neglect, .therefore, of
 
 210 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 the ordinances of religion of Divine appointment is 
 the sure symptom of a criminal indifference about 
 those higher duties by which men pretend to atone 
 for the omission : it is too often found to be the 
 beginning of a licentious life ; and for the most part 
 ends in the highest excesses of profligacy and irre- 
 ligion. 
 
 Having thus taken occasion from the text to ex- 
 plain the comparative merit of natural duties and 
 positive precepts, and having shown the necessity 
 of a reverent attention to the latter, as to means ap- 
 pointed by God for the security of virtue in its more 
 essential parts, I proceed to the enquiry which 
 the text more immediately suggests, the sanctity 
 of the Sabbath under the Christian dispensation. 
 The libertinism of the times renders this enquiry 
 important ; and the spirit of refinement and disput- 
 ation has rendered it, in some degree, obscure. I 
 shall, therefore, divide it into its parts, and proceed 
 by a slow and gradual disquisition. An opinion has 
 been for some time gaining ground, that the ob- 
 servation of a Sabbath in the Christian church is a 
 matter of mere consent and custom, to which we 
 are no more obliged by virtue of any Divine pre- 
 cept than to any other ceremony of the Mosaic law. 
 I shall first, therefore, show you that Christians 
 actually stand obliged to the observation of a Sab- 
 bath, that is, to the separation of some certain 
 day for the public worship of God; and I shall 
 reply to what may be alleged with some colour of 
 reason on the other side of the question. I shall,
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 21 1 
 
 in the next place, enquire how far the Christian, in 
 the observation of his Sabbath, is held to the ori- 
 ginal injunction of keeping every seventh day ; and 
 which day of the seven is his proper Sabbath. When 
 I have shown you that the obligation to the observ- 
 ance of every seventh day actually remains upon 
 him, and that the first day of the week is his proper 
 Sabbath, I shall, in the last place, enquire in what 
 manner this Christian Sabbath should be kept. 
 
 To the general question, What regard is due to 
 the institution of a Sabbath under the Christian 
 dispensation ? the answer is plainly this, Neither 
 more nor less than was due to it in the patriarchal 
 ages, before the Mosaic covenant took place. It is 
 a gross mistake to consider the Sabbath as a mere 
 festival of the Jewish church, deriving its whole 
 sanctity from the Levitical law. The contrary ap- 
 pears, as well from the evidence of the fact, which 
 sacred history affords, as from the reason of the 
 thing, which the same history declares, The reli- 
 gious observation of the seventh day hath a place 
 in the Decalogue, among the very first duties of 
 natural religion. The reason assigned for the in- 
 junction is general, and hath no relation or regard 
 to the particular circumstances of the Israelites, or 
 to the particular relation in which they stood to 
 God as his chosen people. The creation of the 
 world was an event equally interesting to the whole 
 human race ; and the acknowledgment of God as 
 our Creator is a duty in all ages, and in all countries, 
 equally incumbent upon every individual of man- 
 p 2
 
 212 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 kind. The terms in which the reason of the ordi- 
 nance is assigned plainly describe it as an institu- 
 tion of an earlier age : " Therefore the Lord blessed 
 the seventh day, and set it apart" (That is the 
 true import of the words " hallowed it.") These 
 words, you will observe, express a past time. It is 
 not said, " Therefore the Lord now blesses the 
 seventh day, and sets it apart ;" but " Therefore he 
 did bless it, and set it apart in time past ; and he 
 now requires that you his chosen people should be 
 observant of that ancient institution." And in far- 
 ther confirmation of the fact we find, by the six- 
 teenth chapter of Exodus, that the Israelites were 
 acquainted with the Sabbath, and had been accus- 
 tomed to some observance of it, before Moses 
 received the tables of the law at Sinai. When the 
 manna was first given for the nourishment of the 
 army in the Wilderness, the people were told that 
 on the sixth day they should collect the double of 
 the daily portion. When the event was found to 
 answer to the promise, Moses gave command that 
 the redundant portion should be prepared and laid 
 by for the meal of the succeeding day : " For to- 
 morrow," said he, " is the rest of the holy Sabbath 
 unto the Lord : on that day ye shall not find it in 
 the field ; for the Lord hath given you the Sabbath, 
 therefore he giveth you on the sixth day the bread 
 of two days." He mentions the Sabbath as a Di- 
 vine ordinance, with which he evidently supposes 
 the people were well acquainted ; for he alleges the 
 well known sanctity of that day to account for the
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 213 
 
 extraordinary quantity of manna which was found 
 upon the ground on the day preceding it. But the 
 appointment of the Sabbath, to which his words 
 allude, must have been earlier than the appointment 
 of it in the law, of which no part was yet given : for 
 this first gathering of the manna, which is recorded 
 in the sixteenth chapter of Exodus, was in the 
 second month of the departure of the Israelites from 
 Egypt ; and at Sinai, where the law was given, they 
 arrived not till the third. Indeed the antiquity of 
 the Sabbath was a thing so well understood among 
 the Jews themselves, that some of their Rabbin 
 had the vanity to pretend that an exact adherence 
 to the observation of this day, under the severities 
 of the Egyptian servitude, was the merit by which 
 their ancestors procured a miraculous deliverance. 
 The deliverance of the Israelites from the Egyptian 
 bondage was surely an act of God's free mercy, in 
 which their own merit had no share ; nor is it likely 
 that their Egyptian lords left them much at liberty 
 to sanctify the Sabbath, if they were inclined to do it. 
 The tradition, therefore, is vain and groundless : but 
 it clearly speaks the opinion of those among whom 
 it passed, of the antiquity of the institution in ques- 
 tion ; which appears, indeed, upon better evidence, 
 to have been coeval with the world itself: in the 
 book of Genesis, the mention of this institution 
 closes the history of the creation. 
 
 An institution of this antiquity and of this general 
 importance could derive no part of its sanctity from 
 the authority of the Mosaic law ; and the abrogation 
 P 3
 
 ^14- Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 of that law no more releases the worshippers of God 
 from a rational observation of a Sabbath than it can- 
 cels the injunction of filial piety, or the prohibitions 
 of theft and murder, adultery, calumny, and avarice. 
 The worship of the Christian church is properly to 
 be considered as a restoration of the patriarchal, in 
 its primitive simplicity and purity ; and of the 
 patriarchal worship the Sabbath was the noblest, 
 and, perhaps, the simplest rite. 
 
 Thus it should seem that Christians are clearly 
 obliged to the observance of a Sabbath. But let us 
 consider what may be alleged with any colour of 
 reason on the other side. Now, it may be said, that 
 the argument which we have used for the perpetual 
 sanctity of the Sabbath is of that sort which must 
 go for nothing, because it proves too much. If the 
 antiquity and the universality of the original insti- 
 tution be made the ground of a permanent obligation 
 to the observance of it, it may seem a consequence, 
 that the practice of the world, since the establish- 
 ment of Christianity, must have been far more defi- 
 cient than hath ever been suspected ; since, upon 
 this principle, mankind, it may be said, should still 
 be held to various ceremonies which for many ages 
 have sunk into disuse. Circumcision, it is true, will 
 not come within the question ; for though four, or, 
 perhaps, six centuries older than the law, it was only 
 a mark set upon a particular family. But the pro- 
 hibition of the use of blood in food bore the same 
 antiquity, it may be said, with respect to the second 
 race of men, as the Sabbath with respect to the first.
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 215 
 
 The prohibition of blood followed the deluge as 
 closely as the Sabbath followed the creation; the 
 one was no less general to all the sons of Noah than 
 the other to all the sons of Adam. The use of 
 animals at all for food is only to be justified by the 
 Creator's express permission ; and since the excep- 
 tion of the blood of the animal accompanied the 
 grant of the flesh, the prohibition, it may be said, 
 unless it was at any time solemnly repealed, must 
 be as general and as permanent as the license. In 
 the assembly of-the apostles at Jerusalem, of which 
 we read in the fifteenth chapter of the Acts, when 
 the question was solemnly discussed concerning the 
 obligation of the Jewish law upon the converts from 
 the Gentiles, the prohibition of blood was one of 
 three things specially reserved in the solemn act of 
 repeal in which the deliberations of that council 
 terminated. " It seemed good to the Holy Ghost 
 and to us," these are the words of the apostolical 
 rescript, " it seemed good to the Holy Ghost and 
 to us, to lay upon you no greater burden than these 
 necessary things, that ye abstain from meats 
 offered to idols, and from blood, and from things 
 strangled, and from fornication." It seemed good 
 to the Holy Ghost and to the apostles to lay no other 
 restraint upon the Gentile converts : but this re- 
 straint, of which an abstinence from blood made a 
 part, it seemed good to the apostles, nor to the 
 apostles only, but to the Holy Ghost also, to lay ; 
 and they declare that they laid it on as a necessary 
 thing : whereas, in this same decree, which so re- 
 p 4-
 
 216 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 markably reserves the abstinence from blood, the 
 Sabbath is not at all reserved as a thing either of 
 necessity or expedience. It should seem, therefore, 
 it may be said, that the prohibition of blood was an 
 ordinance of more lasting obligation than the Sab- 
 bath : the argument from antiquity and original ge- 
 nerality applies with equal force to both ; and the 
 prohibition is enforced by the authority of the 
 apostles, who mention no necessity of any observ- 
 ance of a Sabbath in the Christian church. Upon 
 what principle, then, is the sanctity of the Sabbath 
 maintained by those who openly disregard the pro- 
 hibition ? 
 
 I must confess, that had the Sabbath been a rite 
 of the Mosaic institution, or were any reason to be 
 assigned for the prohibition of blood which might 
 be of equal force in all ages, I should hold this ar- 
 gument unanswerable, and feel myself compelled to 
 admit that the disregard of the Sabbath were a less 
 crime than the use of blood ; but, as the apostles 
 assembled to consider whether the Gentile converts 
 were to be holden to any part of the Jewish ritual, 
 and if to any, to what part, it was beside their pur- 
 pose to mention any thing that was not considered 
 by those who consulted them as a branch of Judaism. 
 Fornication, indeed, they mention ; for it hath been 
 owing to that refinement of sentiment which the 
 Christian religion hath produced that this is at last 
 understood to be a breach of natural morality. In 
 the heathen world it was never thought to be a crime 
 except it was accompanied with injury to a virgin's
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 217 
 
 honour, or with violation of the marriage bed. Ab- 
 stinence in this instance was considered as a peculi- 
 arity of Judaism ; and had it not been mentioned in 
 the apostolical decree, the Gentile converts would 
 not have been very ready to discern that the prohi- 
 bition of this crime is included in the seventh com- 
 mandment. But with regard to the Sabbath, although 
 it was gone into disuse among the heathen long before 
 the appearance of our Saviour, yet the most ignorant 
 idolater observed some stated festivals in honour of 
 the imaginary divinities to which his worship was 
 addressed. When an idolater, therefore, was con- 
 verted, the natural consequence of his conversion, 
 that is, of his going over from the worship of idols to 
 the worship of the true God, the natural and im- 
 mediate consequence would be, that he would 
 observe the festival of the true God instead of the 
 festival of his idol. Thus the Gentile convert would 
 spontaneously adopt the observation of the Sabbath, 
 as a natural duty, a branch, indeed, of that most 
 general commandment, " Thou shalt love the Lord 
 thy God." It was, therefore, as little necessary that 
 the Sabbath should be expressly observed in the 
 apostolical decree, as that express reservation should 
 be made of any other of the ten commandments ; 
 nor is the neglect of the Sabbath more to be justi- 
 fied by the silence of the apostolical council con- 
 cerning the necessity of the observation, than idol- 
 atry or blasphemy is to be justified by their silence 
 about the second or the third commandment. 
 
 The argument, therefore, from the parallel anti-
 
 218 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHCP 
 
 quity of the inj unction of a Sabbath and the prohibition 
 of blood, rather goes to prove that the prohibition 
 is in force, than to invalidate the conclusion of the 
 perpetual sanctity of the Sabbath from the early 
 date of the institution. Accordingly, it hath been 
 the practice of very considerable men, within our 
 own memory, to abstain, from conscientious scru- 
 ples, from all meats prepared with the blood of ani- 
 mals, and from the flesh of animals otherwise killed 
 than by the effusion of their blood. The truth, 
 however, seems to be, that the two ordinances, the 
 observation of a Sabbath and abstinence from blood, 
 although they were equally binding upon all man- 
 kind at the time when they were severally enjoined, 
 differ, nevertheless, in this, that the reason of the 
 Sabbath continues invariably the same ; or, if it 
 changes at all, it hath been gaining rather than 
 losing its importance from the first institution. The 
 reason of the prohibition of blood was founded on 
 the state of mankind before the coming of Christ, 
 and was peculiar to those early ages. The use of 
 the Sabbath, as it began, will end only with the 
 world itself. The abstinence from blood was a part 
 of that hand-writing of ordinances to which sin gave 
 a temporary importance, and which were blotted 
 out when the Messiah made an end of sin by the 
 expiatory sacrifice of the cross. I have already had 
 occasion to remark, that it was the great end of the 
 numerous sacrifices of the Mosaic ritual to impress 
 the Jewish people (for a season the chosen deposit- 
 aries of revealed truth) with an opinion of the
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 219 
 
 necessity of a sanguinary expiation even for invo- 
 luntary offences, to train them to the habitual 
 belief of that awful maxim, that " without blood 
 there shall be no remission." The end of those 
 earlier sacrifices, which were of use in the patri- 
 archal ages, was unquestionably the same. To in- 
 culcate the same important lesson, in the earliest 
 instance of a sacrifice upon record, respect was had 
 to the shepherd's sacrifice of the firstlings of his 
 flock, rather than to the husbandman's offering of 
 the fruit of his ground ; and for the same reason, by 
 the prohibition laid upon the sons of Noah, and 
 afterwards enforced in the severest terms in the 
 Mosaic law, blood was sanctified, as it were, as the 
 immediate instrument of atonement. The end of 
 the prohibition was to impress mankind with a high 
 reverence for blood, as a most holy thing, conse- 
 crated to the purpose of the general expiation : but 
 this expiatory virtue belonged not to the blood of 
 bulls and of goats, but to the blood of Christ, of which 
 the other was by God's appointment made a tem- 
 porary emblem. As the importance, therefore, of 
 all inferior sacrifices, and of all the cleansings and 
 purifications of the law, ceased when once the only 
 meritorious sacrifice had been offered on the cross, 
 and the true atonement made, animal blood, at the 
 same time, and for the same reason, lost its sanc- 
 tity. The necessity, therefore, mentioned in the 
 apostolic rescript, so far as it regards the restriction 
 from the use of blood, can be understood only of a 
 temporary necessity, founded on the charitable con-
 
 220 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 descension which, in the infancy of the church, was 
 due from the Gentile converts to the inveterate 
 prejudices of their Hebrew brethren. Accordingly, 
 although we read of no subsequent decree of the 
 apostolical college rescinding the restriction, which 
 by the act of their first assembly they thought pro- 
 per to impose, yet we find what is equivalent to a 
 decree, in the express license given by St. Paul to 
 the Christians of Corinth, to eat of whatever meat 
 was set before them, provided they incurred not the 
 imputation of idolatry, by partaking of a feast upon 
 the victim in an idol's temple. With this excep- 
 tion, they had permission to eat whatever was sold 
 in the shambles, and whatever was served up at 
 table, without any attention to the legal distinctions 
 of clean and unclean, and without any anxious en- 
 quiry upon what occasion, or in what manner, the 
 animals had been slaughtered. 
 
 Thus it appears, that the prohibition of blood in 
 food was for a time, indeed, by the generality of the 
 restraint, binding upon all mankind : but, in the 
 reason of the thing, its importance was but tempo- 
 rary ; and when its importance ceased, the restraint 
 was taken off, not, indeed, by a decree of the 
 whole college of apostles, but still by apostolical 
 authority. The observation of a abbath, on the 
 contrary, was not only a general duty at the time of 
 the institution, but, in the nature of the thing, of 
 perpetual importance ; since, in every stage of the 
 world's existence, it is man's interest to remember, 
 and his duty to acknowledge, his dependence upon
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 221 
 
 God as the Creator of all things, and of man among 
 the rest. The observation of a Sabbath was ac- 
 cordingly enforced, not by any apostolical decree, 
 but by the example of the apostles, after the solemn 
 abrogation of the Mosaic law. 
 
 Thus, 1 trust, I have shown that the observation 
 of a Sabbath, as it was of earlier institution than the 
 religion of the Jews, and no otherwise belonged to 
 Judaism, than as, with other ordinances of the 
 patriarchal church, it was adopted by the Jewish 
 legislature, necessarily survives the extinction of the 
 Jewish law, and makes a part of Christianity. I 
 have shown how essentially it differs from other 
 ordinances, which, however they may boast a similar 
 antiquity, and, for a season, an equal sanctity, were 
 only of a temporary importance. I have shown that 
 it is a part of the rational religion of man, in every 
 stage and state of his existence, till he shall attain 
 that happy rest from the toil of perpetual conflict 
 with temptation, from the hardship of duty as a 
 task, of which the rest of the Sabbath is itself a 
 type. I have, therefore, established my first pro- 
 position, that Christians stand obliged to the ob- 
 servation of a Sabbath. I am, in the next place, to 
 enquire how far the Christian, in the observance of 
 a Sabbath, is held to the original injunction of keep- 
 ing every seventh day ; and which day of the seven 
 is his proper Sabbath. And this shall be the busi- 
 ness of my next discourse.
 
 222 Observance of the Sabbat/t. [BISHOP 
 
 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH 
 
 [CONCLUDED]. 
 
 MARK, ii. 27. 
 
 The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath. 
 
 THE general application of this maxim of our Lord, 
 as a rule establishing the true distinction between 
 natural duties and positive institutions, I have al- 
 ready shown. I have already shown you, that, 
 rightly understood, whatever pre-eminence in merit 
 it may ascribe (as it ascribes indeed the greatest) 
 to those things which are not good because they are 
 commanded, but are commanded because they are 
 in themselves good, it nevertheless as little justifies 
 the neglect of the external ordinances of religion as 
 it warrants the hypocritical substitution of instituted 
 forms for those higher duties which it teaches us to 
 consider as the very end. of our existence. In the 
 particular enquiry which the text more immediately 
 suggests, what regard may be due to the institution 
 of the Sabbath under the Christian dispensation, I 
 have so far proceeded as to show, in opposition to 
 an opinion which too visibly influences the practice 
 of the present age, that Christians are indeed obliged 
 to the observance of a Sabbath. It remains for me 
 to enquire how far the Christian, in the observance 
 of a Sabbath, is held to the original injunction of
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 223 
 
 keeping every seventh day ; and when I have shown 
 you that this obligation actually remains upon him, 
 I am, in the last place, to show in what manner his 
 Sabbath should be kept. 
 
 The spirit of the Jewish law was rigour and se- 
 verity. Rigour and severity were adapted to the 
 rude manners of the first ages of mankind, and were 
 particularly suited to the refractory temper of the 
 Jewish people. The rigour of the law itself was far 
 outdone by the rigour of the popular superstition 
 and the pharisaical hypocrisy, if, indeed, super- 
 stition and hypocrisy, rather than a particular ill 
 will against our Lord, were the motives with the 
 people and their rulers to tax him with a breach of 
 the Sabbath, when they saw his power exerted on 
 the Sabbath day for the relief of the afflicted. The 
 Christian law is the law of liberty. We are not, 
 therefore, to take the measure of our obedience from 
 the letter of the Jewish law, much less from 
 Jewish prejudices and the suggestions of Jewish 
 malignity. In the sanctification of the Sabbath, in 
 particular, we have our Lord's express authority to 
 take a pious discretion for our guide ; keeping con- 
 stantly in view the end of the institution, and its 
 necessary subordination to higher duties. But, in 
 the use of this discretion, I fear it is the fashion to 
 indulge in a greater latitude than our Lord's maxims 
 allow or his example warrants; and although the 
 letter of the Jewish law is not to be the Christian's 
 guide, yet, perhaps, in the present instance, the par- 
 ticular injunctions of the law, rationally interpreted
 
 224- Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 by reference to the general end of the institution, 
 will best enable us to determine what is the obliga- 
 tion to the observance of a particular day, what 
 the proper observation of the day may be, and 
 how far the practice of the present age corresponds 
 with the purpose and spirit of the ordinance. 
 
 The injunction of the Sabbath, in the fourth com- 
 mandment, is accompanied with the history and the 
 reason of the original institution. Both the history and 
 the reason given here are the same which occur in the 
 second chapter of Genesis. The history is briefly 
 this, that " God blessed the seventh day, and hal- 
 lowed it." "He hallowed it," that is, God himself 
 distinguished this particular day, and set it apart from 
 therest; and"heblessedit," that is, he appropriated 
 this day to religious exercises on the part of man ; and 
 he engaged, on his own part, to accept the homage 
 which should on this day be offered to him : he 
 promised to be propitious to the prayers, public and 
 'private, which should be offered to him on this day 
 in the true spirit of piety, humility, and faith. This 
 is, I think, the import of the phrase that God 
 "blessed the day;" he annexed the promise of his 
 especial blessing to the regular discharge of a duty 
 enjoined. The reason of this sanctification of the 
 seventh day was founded on the order in which the 
 work of the creation had been carried on. In this 
 business, we are told, the Divine power was active 
 for six successive days ; on the sixth day all was 
 finished ; and on the seventh God rested : his power 
 was no longer exerted in the business of making ;
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 225 
 
 the whole world being now made, arranged, and 
 finished. 
 
 From the reason thus assigned for the institution, 
 it is easy to understand that the worship originally 
 required of men on this day was to praise God as the 
 Creator of the universe, and to acknowledge their 
 dependence upon him and subjection to him as his 
 creatures ; and it is evident that this worship is due 
 to the Creator from all men in all ages, since none in 
 any age are not his creatures. The propriety of the 
 particular appointment of every seventh day is also 
 evident from the reason assigned, if the fact be as the 
 letter of the sacred history represents it, that the 
 creation was the gradual work of six days. It hath ever 
 been the folly or the pride of man to make a difficulty 
 of every thing of which he hath not the penetration 
 to discern the reason. It is very certain that God 
 needs no time for the execution of his purposes. 
 Had it so pleased him, the universe, in its finished 
 form, with all its furniture and all its inhabitants, 
 might have started into existence in a moment. To 
 say, " Let the world be," had been as easy to God as 
 " Let there be light ;" and the effect must have fol- 
 lowed. Hence, as if a necessity lay upon the Deity 
 upon all occasions to do all to which his omnipotence 
 extends, or as if, on the contrary, it were not 
 impossible that Infinite Power should in any instance 
 do its utmost, (for whatever hath been done, more 
 must be within its ability to perform, or it were not 
 infinite,) unmindful of these principles, some have 
 dreamt of I know not what figures and allegories in 
 
 VOL. i. Q
 
 226 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 that part of the Mosaic history which describes the 
 creation as a work performed in time and distributed 
 into parts ; imagining, in opposition to the letter of 
 the story, that the whole must have been instantane- 
 ously accomplished. Others, with more discernment, 
 have suspected, that when once the chaos was pro- 
 duced, and the elements invested with their qualities, 
 physical causes, which work their effect in time, were 
 in some measure concerned in the progress of the 
 business ; the Divine power acting only at intervals, 
 for certain purposes to which physical causes were 
 insufficient, such as the division of the general chaos 
 into distinct globes and systems, and the formation of 
 the first plants and animals. These notions are in- 
 deed perfectly consistent with sound philosophy ; 
 nor am I aware that they are in any way repugnant 
 to the sacred history ; but from these principles a 
 conclusion has too hastily been drawn, that a week 
 would be too short time for physical causes to ac- 
 complish their part of the business ; and it has been 
 imagined that a day must be used figuratively in the 
 history of the creation to denote at least a thousand 
 years, or perhaps a longer period. 
 
 In what manner the creation was conducted is a 
 question about a fact ; and, like all questions about 
 facts, must be determined, not by theory, but by 
 testimony ; and if no testimony were extant, the fact 
 must remain uncertain. But the testimony of the 
 sacred historian is peremptory and explicit. No 
 expressions could be found in any language to de 
 scribe a gradual progress of the work for six succes- 
 sive days, and the completion of it on the sixth, in
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 227 
 
 the literal and common sense of the word " day," 
 more definite and unequivocal than those employed 
 by Moses ; and they who seek or admit figurative 
 expositions of such expressions as these, seem to be 
 not sufficiently aware that it is one thing to write a 
 history and quite another to compose riddles. The 
 expressions in which Moses describes the days of 
 the creation, literally rendered, are these : when he 
 has described the first day's work, he says, " And 
 there was morning and there was evening, one day ;" 
 when he has described the second day's work, 
 " There was morning and there was evening, a 
 second day ; " when he has described the third day's 
 work, " There was evening and there was morning, 
 a third day." Thus, in the progress of his narrative, 
 at the end of each day's work, he counts up the days 
 which had passed off from the beginning of the 
 business ; and, to obviate all doubt what portion of 
 time he meant to denote by the appellation of " a 
 day," he describes each day of which the mention 
 occurs as consisting of one evening and one morning, 
 or, as the Hebrew words literally import, of the 
 decay of light and the return of it. By what de- 
 scription could the word " day" be more expressly 
 limited to its literal and common meaning, as de- 
 noting that portion of time which is measured and 
 consumed by the earth's revolution on her axis? 
 That this revolution was performed in the same space 
 of time in the beginning of the world as now, I 
 would not over-confidently affirm : but we are not at 
 present concerned in the resolution of that question ; 
 Q 2
 
 228 Observance of tine Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 a day, whatever was its space, was still the same 
 thing in nature, a portion of time measured by the 
 same motion, divisible into the same seasons of 
 morning and noon, evening and midnight, and 
 making the like part of longer portions of time 
 measured by other motions. The day was itself 
 marked by the vicissitudes of darkness and light ; 
 and so many times repeated, it made a month ; and 
 so many times more, a year. For six such days God 
 was making the heaven and the earth, the sea, and 
 all that therein is ; and rested on the seventh day. 
 This fact, clearly established by the sacred writer's 
 testimony, in the literal meaning of these plain 
 words, abundantly evinces the perpetual importance 
 and propriety of consecrating one day in seven to 
 the public worship of the Creator. 
 
 I say one day in seven. In the first ages of the 
 world, the creation of the world was the benefaction 
 by which God was principally known, and for which 
 he was chiefly to be worshipped. The Jews, in their 
 religious assemblies, had to commemorate other 
 blessings, the political creation of their nation out 
 of Abraham's family, and their deliverance from the 
 Egyptian bondage. We Christians have to comme- 
 morate, beside the common benefit of the creation, 
 the transcendent blessing of our redemption, our 
 new creation to the hope of everlasting life, of which 
 our Lord's resurrection to life on the first day of the 
 week is a sure pledge and evidence. You see, there- 
 fore, that the Sabbath, in the progress of ages, hath 
 acquired new ends, by new manifestations of the
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 229 
 
 Divine mercy; and these new ends justify corre- 
 spondent alterations of the original institution. It 
 has been imagined that a change was made of the 
 original day by Moses, that the Sabbath was trans- 
 ferred by him from the day on which it had been 
 originally kept in the patriarchal ages, to that on 
 which the Israelites left Egypt. The conjecture is 
 not unnatural ; but it is, in my judgment, a mere 
 conjecture, of which the sacred history affords neither 
 proof nor confutation. This, however, is certain, 
 that upon our Lord's resurrection, the Sabbath was 
 transferred, in memory of that event, the great 
 foundation of the Christian's hopes, from the last to 
 the first day of the week. The alteration seems to 
 have been made by the authority of the apostles, 
 and to have taken place on the very day on which 
 our Lord arose ; for on that day the apostles were 
 assembled, and on that day se'nnight we find them 
 assembled again. The celebration of these two first 
 Sundays was honoured with our Lord's own presence. 
 It was, perhaps, to set a mark of distinction upon 
 this day in particular, that the intervening week 
 passed off, as it should seem, without any repetition 
 of his first visit to the eleven apostles. From that 
 time, the Sunday was the constant Sabbath of the 
 primitive church. The Christian, therefore, who 
 devoutly sanctifies one day in seven, although it be 
 the first day of the week, not the last, as was origin- 
 ally ordained, may rest assured that he fully satisfies 
 the spirit of the ordinance. Had the propriety of 
 the alteration been less apparent than it is from the 
 Q 3
 
 230 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 reason of the thing, the authority of the apostles to 
 loose and bind was absolute. 
 
 I must remark, however, that their authority upon 
 this point was exercised not purely in consideration 
 of the expediency, but upon the higher consideration 
 of the necessity of a change, a necessity arising, 
 as I conceive, out of the original spirit of the insti- 
 tution. The original observation of a Sabbath on 
 every seventh day was a public and distinguishing 
 characteristic of the worship of the Creator, who 
 finished his work in six days, and rested on the 
 seventh. This was the public character by which 
 the worship of the true God was distinguished, that 
 his festival returned every seventh day ; and, by the 
 strict observance of this ordinance, the holy patri- 
 archs, and the Jews their descendants, made, as it 
 were, a public protestation once in every week 
 against the errors of idolatry, which, instead of the 
 true God, the Creator of the universe, paid its 
 adoration either to the works of God, the sun and 
 moon and other celestial bodies, or to mere figments 
 of the human imagination, misled by a diabolical 
 illusion, to imaginary beings presiding over the 
 natural elements, or the departed ghosts of deceased 
 kings and heroes, and, in the last stage of the cor- 
 ruption, to inanimate images, by which the supposed 
 influences of the celestial bodies and physical qua- 
 lities of the elements were emblematically repre- 
 sented, and the likenesses of the deified kings sup- 
 posed to be portrayed. To this protestation against 
 heathenism, the propriety of which binds the wor-
 
 IIORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 231 
 
 shippers of the true God in all ages to a weekly 
 Sabbath, it is reasonable that Christians should add 
 a similar protestation against Judaism. It was ne- 
 cessary that Christians should openly separate, as it 
 were, from the communion of the Jews, who, after 
 their perverse rejection of our Lord, ceased to be 
 the true church of God : and the sanctification of 
 the Saturday being the most visible and notorious 
 character of the Jewish worship, it was necessary 
 that the Christian Sabbath should be transferred to 
 some other day of the week. A change of the day 
 being for these reasons necessary, the choice of the 
 apostles was directed to the first day of the week, 
 as that on which our Lord's resurrection finished 
 and sealed the work of our redemption ; so that in 
 the same act by which we acknowledge the Creator, 
 and protest against the claims of the Jews to be still 
 the depositaries of the true religion, we might con- 
 fess the Saviour, whom the Jews crucified. 
 
 You have now seen that the Christian clearly 
 stands obliged to the observance of a Sabbath ; that 
 in the observance of his Sabbath he is held to the 
 original institution of keeping every seventh day ; 
 and that his proper Sabbath is the first day of the 
 seven. By keeping a Sabbath, we acknowledge a 
 God, and declare that we are not atheists ; by keep- 
 ing one day in seven, we protest against idolatry, 
 and acknowledge that God who, in the beginning, 
 made the heavens and the earth ; and by keeping 
 our Sabbath on the first of the week, we protest 
 against Judaism, and acknowledge that God who, 
 ft 4-
 
 232 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 having made the world, sent his only begotten Son 
 to redeem mankind. The observation, therefore, 
 of the Sunday in the Christian church is a public 
 weekly assertion of the two first articles in our 
 Creed, the belief in God the Father Almighty, 
 the Maker of heaven and earth ; and in Jesus Christ, 
 his only Son, our Lord. 
 
 I must not quit this part of my subject without 
 briefly taking notice of a text in St. Paul's Epistle 
 to the Colossians, which has been supposed to con- 
 tradict the whole doctrine which I have asserted, 
 and to prove that the observation of a Sabbath in 
 the Christian church is no point of duty, but a 
 matter of mere compliance with an ancient custom. 
 In the second chapter of that epistle, St. Paul, 
 speaking of " the hand-writing of ordinances, which 
 is blotted out, having been nailed to the Redeemer's 
 cross," adds, in the sixteenth verse, " Let no man 
 therefore judge you in meat or in drink, or in 
 respect of an holiday, or of the new moon, or of the 
 Sabbath days." From this text, no less a man than 
 the venerable Calvin drew the conclusion, in which 
 he has been rashly followed by other considerable 
 men, that the sanctification of the seventh day is 
 no indispensable duty in the Christian church, 
 that it is one of those carnal ordinances of the 
 Jewish religion which our Lord hath blotted out. 
 The truth, however, is, that, in the apostolical age, 
 the first day of the week, though it was observed 
 with great reverence, was not called the Sabbath 
 day, but the Lord's day, that the separation of
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 233 
 
 the Christian church from the Jewish communion 
 might be marked by the name as well as by the 
 day of their weekly festival ; and the name of the 
 Sabbath days was appropriated to the Saturdays, 
 and certain days in the Jewish church, which were 
 likewise called Sabbaths in the law, because they 
 were observed with no less sanctity. The Sabbath 
 days, therefore, of which St. Paul in this passage 
 speaks, were not the Sundays of the Christians, but 
 the Saturdays and the other Sabbaths of the Jewish 
 calendar. The Judaising heretics, with whom St. 
 Paul was all his life engaged, were strenuous advo- 
 cates for the observation of these Jewish festivals 
 in the Christian church ; and his (St. Paul's) admo- 
 nition to the Colossians is, that they should not be 
 disturbed by the censures of those who reproached 
 them for neglecting to observe these Jewish Sab- 
 baths with Jewish ceremonies. It appears from 
 the first Epistle to the Corinthians, that the Sunday 
 was observed in the church of Corinth with St. 
 Paul's own approbation. It appears from the 
 Apocalypse, that it was generally observed in the 
 time when that book was written by St. John ; and 
 it is mentioned by the earliest apologists of the 
 Christian faith as a necessary branch of Christian 
 worship. But the Sabbaths of the Jewish church 
 are abolished : nor is the Christian, in the observ- 
 ation of his own Sabbath, to conduct himself by 
 the childish rules of the old pharisaical superstition. 
 This brings me to consider, in the last place, the 
 manner in which the Christian Sabbath is to be kept.
 
 234? Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 As the reason of the institution rests on such 
 common benefits as the creation of the world and 
 man's redemption, it is evident that all descriptions 
 of men stand obliged to the duties of the day. No 
 elevation of rank may exempt ; no meanness of 
 condition may exclude ; no inexperience of youth 
 disqualifies for the task ; no decrepitude of age is 
 unequal to the toil ; no tenderness of sex can suffer 
 from the fatigue. Since the proper business of the 
 day thus engages every rank, every sex, and every 
 age, it is evident that it requires a suspension of the 
 ordinary business of the world ; for none can be 
 at leisure for secular employments, when all are 
 occupied, as they ought to be, in devotion. All 
 servile labour, and all worldly business, was accord- 
 ingly prohibited by the Mosaic law, under the 
 highest penalties ; and capital punishment was, in 
 an early instance, actually inflicted on a man who 
 only went out on the Sabbath to gather sticks for 
 fuel. Christian magistrates have not only the per- 
 mission, they have the injunction of our Lord, 
 they have the authority at least of inference from 
 the example of what he did himself, and what he 
 justified when done by his disciples, to remit much 
 of the rigour of this interdiction. Such a cessation, 
 however, of business and of pleasure should be 
 enforced,, as may leave neither necessity nor tempt- 
 ation upon any denomination of men in the com- 
 munity to neglect the proper observance of the 
 festival. It is to be remembered, that although 
 the worship of God is the chief end of the insti
 
 HORSI.EY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 235 
 
 tution, yet the refreshment of the lower ranks of 
 mankind, by an intermission of their labours, is in- 
 disputably a secondary object. " Thou shalt rest 
 on the seventh day," said the law, " that the son of 
 thy handmaid, and the stranger may be refreshed." 
 A handmaid, in the language of the Old Testament, 
 denotes a female slave: the son of a handmaid, 
 therefore, is the offspring of a female slave ; which, 
 by the laws of the Jews, as of all people among 
 whom slavery hath been allowed, was the property 
 of the master of the mother. The stranger seems 
 here to be set in opposition to the homeborn slave, 
 denoting a foreign slave, bought with money or 
 taken in war. These two descriptions of the home- 
 born and the foreign slave comprehend the whole of 
 that oppressed and helpless order of mankind. It 
 is expressly provided by the law, that on the 
 Sabbath day this harassed race of mortals should 
 have their refreshment. Now, as these injunctions 
 were evidently founded on the general principles of 
 philanthropy, it should seem, that allowance being 
 made for the difference between the rigour of the 
 Jewish, and the liberality of the Christian, dispens- 
 ation, and allowance being also made for the dif- 
 ferent circumstances of the ancient and the modern 
 world, these injunctions of the suspension of the 
 labours of the lower ranks are universally and per- 
 petually in force, in all parts of the world, and in all 
 ages ; the rather as they are no less calculated for 
 the benefit of the higher than for the comfort of the 
 lower orders. It is useful to both to be admonished
 
 236 Observance of tlie Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 at frequent intervals, the one for their consol- 
 ation, the other for the suppression of that pride 
 which a condition of ease and superiority is too apt 
 to inspire. It is useful to both to be reminded of 
 their equal relation to their common Lord s as the 
 creatures of his power, the subjects of his govern- 
 ment, the children of his love, by an institution 
 which, at frequent intervals, unites them in his 
 service. Under this recollection, the servant will 
 obey with fidelity and cheerfulness, and the supe- 
 rior will govern with kindness and lenity. It is of 
 the highest importance to the present good humour 
 of society, and to the future interests of men of 
 every rank, that these injunctions should be ob- 
 served with all the exactness which the present state 
 of society may admit. 
 
 The labour of man is not the only toil which the 
 Mosaic law prohibited on the Sabbath day. " On 
 the seventh day thou shalt rest, that thine ox and 
 thine ass may rest." It was a principle with some 
 of the heathen moralists, that no rights subsist be- 
 tween man and the lower animals, that, in the 
 exercise of our dominion over them, we are at 
 liberty to pursue our own profit and convenience, 
 without any consideration of the fatigue and the 
 miseries which they may undergo. The Holy Scrip- 
 tures reem to speak another language, when they 
 say, The righteous man is merciful even to his 
 beas\ ;' and as no reason can be alleged why the 
 ox or the ass of Palestine should be treated with 
 more tenderness than the kindred brutes of other
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 237 
 
 countries, it must be upon this general principle, 
 that mercy is in some degree due to the animals 
 beneath us, that the Divine legislator of the Jews 
 provided on the Sabbath for their refreshment. 
 This, therefore, like the former provision (allowance 
 still being made for the different spirit of Judaism 
 and Christianity), is to be considered as a general 
 and standard part of the institution, which is violated 
 whenever, for the mere pleasure and convenience 
 of the master and the owner, either servants, or 
 even animals, are subjected to the same severity of 
 toil on the Sabbath, which belongs to the natural 
 condition of the one, and to the civil rank of the 
 other, on the six days of the week. On the Sab- 
 bath, man is to hold a sort of edifying communion 
 with the animals beneath him ; acknowledging, by 
 a short suspension of his dominion over them, the 
 right of the Creator in himself as well as in them, 
 and confessing that his own right over them is de- 
 rived from the grant of the superior Lord, 
 
 It appears from what has been said, that the 
 practice, which is become so common in this country 
 among all ranks of men, of making long journeys on 
 the Sabbath day without any urgent necessity, is 
 one of the highest breaches of this holy institution. 
 It breaks in upon the principal business of the day, 
 laying some under a necessity, and furnishing others 
 with a pretence, for withdrawing themselves from 
 the public assemblies ; and it defeats the ordinance 
 in its subordinate ends, depriving servants and cat- 
 tle of that temporary exemption from fatigue which
 
 238 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 it was intended both should enjoy. This, like other 
 evils, hath arisen from small beginnings ; and, by 
 an unperceived, because a natural and a gradual, 
 growth, hath attained at last an alarming height. 
 Persons of the higher ranks, whether from a cer- 
 tain vanity of appearing great by assuming a pri- 
 vilege of doing what was generally forbidden, or for 
 the convenience of travelling when the roads were 
 the most empty, began within our own memory to 
 make their journeys on a Sunday. In a commercial 
 country, the great fortunes acquired in trade have 
 a natural tendency to level all distinctions but 
 what arise from affluence. Wealth supplies the 
 place of nobility ; birth retains only the privilege 
 of setting the first example. The city presently 
 catches the manners of the court ; and the vices of 
 the high-born peer are faithfully copied in the life 
 of the opulent merchant and the thriving trades- 
 man. Accordingly, in the space of a few years, 
 the Sunday became the travelling day of all who 
 travel in their own carriages. But why should the 
 humbler citizen, whose scantier means oblige him 
 to commit his person to the crammed stage-coach, 
 more than his wealthier neighbour, be exposed to 
 the hardship of travelling on the working days, 
 when the multitude of heavy carts and waggons 
 moving to and fro in all directions renders the roads 
 unpleasant and unsafe to all carriages of a slighter 
 fabric ; especially when the only real inconvenience, 
 the danger of such obstructions, is infinitely in- 
 creased to him by the greater difficulty with which
 
 HORSLEY.J Observance of the Sabbath. 239 
 
 the vehicle in which he makes his uncomfortable 
 journey crosses out of the way, in deep and miry 
 roads, to avoid the fatal jostle ? The force of these 
 principles was soon perceived ; and, in open de- 
 fiance of the laws, stage-coaches have, for several 
 years, travelled on the Sundays. The waggoner 
 soon understands that the road is as free for him as 
 for the coachman, that if the magistrate connives 
 at the one, he cannot enforce the law against the 
 other; and the Sunday traveller now breaks the 
 Sabbath, without any advantage gained in the safety 
 or pleasure of his journey, It may seem that the 
 evil, grown to this height, would become its own 
 remedy: but this is not the case. The temptation 
 indeed to the crime among the higher ranks of the 
 people subsists no longer; but the reverence for 
 the day among all orders is extinguished, and the 
 abuse- goes on from the mere habit of profaneness. 
 In the country, the roads are crowded on the Sun- 
 day, as on any other day, with travellers of every 
 sort: the devotion of the villages is interrupted 
 by the noise of the carriages passing through, or 
 stopping at the inns for refreshment. In the me- 
 tropolis, instead of that solemn stillness of the 
 vacant streets in the hours of the public service, 
 which might suit, as in our fathers' days, with the 
 sanctity of the day, and be a reproof to every one 
 who should stir abroad but upon the business of 
 devotion, the mingled racket of worldly business 
 and pleasure is going on with little abatement ; and 
 in the churches and chapels which adjoin the public
 
 210 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 streets, the sharp rattle of the whirling phaeton, and 
 the graver rumble of the loaded waggon, mixed with 
 the oaths and imprecations of the brawling drivers, 
 disturb the congregation and stun the voice of the 
 preacher. 
 
 These scandals call loudly for redress: but re- 
 dress will be in vain expected from any increased 
 severity of the laws, without a concurrence of the 
 willing example of the great. This is one of the 
 many instances, in which a corrupt fashion in the 
 higher orders of society will render all law weak and 
 ineffectual. I am not without hope that the exam- 
 ple of the great will not be wanting. I trust that we 
 are awakened to a sense of the importance of reli- 
 gious ordinances, by the dreadful exhibition of the 
 mischiefs of irreligion in the present state of the 
 neighbouring apostate nation ; and though our re- 
 covery from the disease of carelessness and indiffer- 
 ence is yet in its beginning, appearances justify a 
 sanguine hope of its continuance, and of its ultimate 
 termination, through the grace of God, in a perfect 
 convalescence. And when once the duties of reli- 
 gion shall be recommended by the general example 
 of the superior ranks, then, and not till then, the 
 bridle of legal restraint will act with effect upon 
 vulgar profligacy. 
 
 But, in the application of whatever means for the 
 remedy of the evil, whether of legal penalties, 
 which ought to be enforced, and in some cases 
 ought to be heightened, or of the milder persua- 
 sion of example, or of the two united, which
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of the Sabbath. 241 
 
 alone can be successful, in the application of 
 these various means, the zeal of reform, if it would 
 not defeat its own end, must be governed and mo- 
 derated by a prudent attention to the general spirit 
 of Christianity and to the general end of the insti- 
 tution. The spirit of Christianity is rational, man- 
 ly, and ingenuous; in all cases delighting in the 
 substantial works of judgment, justice, and mercy, 
 more than in any external forms. The primary and 
 general end of the institution is the public worship 
 of God, the Creator of the world and Redeemer of 
 mankind. 
 
 Among the Jews, the absolute cessation of all 
 animal activity on their Sabbath had a particular 
 meaning in reference to their history : it was a 
 standing symbolical memorial of their miraculous 
 deliverance from a state of servitude. But to man- 
 kind in general, to us Christians in particular, 
 the proper business of the day is the worship of 
 God in public assemblies, from which none may 
 without some degree of crime be unnecessarily 
 absent. Private devotion is the Christian's daily 
 duty ; but the peculiar duty of the Sabbath is public 
 worship. As for those parts of the day which are 
 not occupied in the public duty, every man's own 
 conscience, without any interference of public au- 
 thority, and certainly without any officious interpo- 
 sition of the private judgment of his neighbour, 
 every man's own conscience must direct him what 
 portion of this leisure should be allotted to his pri- 
 vate devotions, and what may be spent in sober 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 242 Observance of the Sabbath. [BISHOP 
 
 recreation. Perhaps a better general rule cannot 
 be laid down than this, that the same proportion 
 of the Sabbath, on the whole, should be devoted to 
 religious exercises, public and private, as every 
 man would spend of any other day in his ordinary 
 business. The holy work of the Sabbath, like all 
 other work, to be done well requires intermissions. 
 An entire day is a longer space of time than the 
 human mind can employ with alacrity upon any one 
 subject. The austerity, therefore, of those is little 
 to be commended, who require that all the intervals 
 of public worship, and whatever remains of the day 
 after the public duty is satisfied, should be spent in 
 the closet, in private prayer and retired meditation. 
 Nor are persons in the lower ranks of society to be 
 very severely censured, those especially who are 
 confined to populous cities, where they breathe a 
 noxious atmosphere, and are engaged in unwhole- 
 some occupations, from which, with their daily sub- 
 sistence, they derive their daily poison, if they 
 take advantage of the leisure of the day to recruit 
 their wasted strength and harassed spirits, by short 
 excursions into the purer air of the adjacent villages, 
 and the innocent recreations of sober society ; pro- 
 vided they engage not in schemes of dissipated and 
 tumultuous pleasure, which may disturb the sobriety 
 of their thoughts, and interfere with the duties of 
 the day. The present humour of the common 
 people leads, perhaps, more to a profanation of the 
 festival, than to a superstitious rigour in the observ- 
 ance of it ; but in the attempt to reform, we shall
 
 HORSLEY.] Observance of tlw Sabbath. 243 
 
 do wisely to remember, that the thanks for this are 
 chiefly due to the base spirit of puritanical hypo- 
 crisy, which in the last century opposed and defeated 
 the wise attempts of government, to regulate the 
 recreations of the day by authority, and prevent 
 the excesses which have actually taken place, by 
 a rational indulgence. 
 
 The Sabbath was ordained for a day of public 
 worship, and of refreshment to the common people. 
 It cannot be a day of their refreshment if it be 
 made a day of mortified restraint. To be a day of 
 worship, it must be a day of leisure from worldly 
 business, and of abstraction from dissipated pleasure. 
 But it need not be a dismal one. It was ordained 
 for a day of general and willing resort to the holy 
 mountain ; when men of every race, and every rank, 
 and every age, promiscuously, Hebrew, Greek, and 
 Scythian, bond and free, young and old, high 
 and low, rich and poor, one with another, 
 laying hold of Christ's atonement, and the proffered 
 mercy of the Gospel, might meet together before 
 their common Lord, exempt for a season from the 
 cares and labours of the world, and be " joyful in 
 his house of prayer." 
 
 R 2
 
 RICHARD MANT, D.D. 
 
 BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR. 
 
 From his " Sermons for Parochial and Domestic Use, chiefly 
 adapted to the Service of Particular Sundays in the Year. By 
 Richard Mant, D. D. (now Lord Bishop of Down and Con- 
 nor,) late Domestic Chaplain to His Grace the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury. 1823."
 
 247 
 
 PRIDE CONTRASTED WITH HUMILITY. 
 1 PETER, v. 5. 
 
 Be clothed with humility : for God resisteth the proud, and givetk 
 grace to the humble. 
 
 IT was one great intention of our holy religion, 
 considered as a rule of conduct, to give us clear 
 and correct notions of those qualities which con- 
 tribute to form the character of the human heart. 
 By the corruption of our nature, which ensued upon 
 the disobedience of our first progenitor, not only 
 our inclination to the practice of what is good, but 
 our power likewise of discriminating justly between 
 good and evil, was materially impaired. Hence 
 various qualities are continually exhibited to general 
 observation, by such as the world is contented to 
 esteem its masters of wisdom, in colours very dif- 
 ferent from those which properly belong to them ; 
 and they are accordingly valued in the general esti- 
 mation, and cultivated in general practice, with 
 degrees of respect very disproportionate to their 
 intrinsic merits. Captivated by specious appear- 
 ances, and insensible to substantial worth, the man 
 of the world places himself under the control of 
 qualities, vicious in their nature, and injurious in 
 R 4
 
 24>S Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 their tendency ; whilst he disdainfully rejects the 
 authority of those which alone can bear the test of 
 sober investigation ; and which are the main pro- 
 moters, under Providence, of the comfort and hap- 
 piness of mankind, as well as the most secure de- 
 fence, and the most delightful ornament, of their 
 possessor. 
 
 To counteract so formidable an error, Christianity 
 comes to our assistance. By the light of divine 
 revelation, it enables us accurately to discriminate 
 between good and evil, right and wrong : it teaches 
 us to see things according to their own nature, and 
 in their proper colours; to behold those qualities 
 which are really vicious deprived of the dazzling 
 brightness wherewith reason, impaired by passion, 
 had invested them ; and to contemplate those which 
 are virtuous, disencumbered from the clouds of 
 worldly prejudice, and arrayed in their native 
 beauty. In a word, it teaches us to see things as 
 they are in the sight of God, and not as they ap- 
 pear according to the erroneous conceptions of men. 
 
 The apostle, in the text, directs our attention to 
 two qualities of the human heart, respectively of 
 the different characters to which I have been allud- 
 ing ; the one of high estimation in a worldly view, 
 but branded by the Gospel with marks of especial 
 reprobation ; the other disdained, indeed, and de- 
 spised by the worldly man, but ranked, by the in- 
 spired ministers of God, among the most lovely and 
 the most valuable of Christian graces. In their 
 operation upon human life, and in their effect upon
 
 MANX.] Pride contrasted with Humility. 249 
 
 the blessings which we enjoy, and upon the dis- 
 tresses under which we suffer, these qualities are of 
 infinite importance to the peace and happiness of 
 individuals and of society. So that, indeed, in the 
 whole range of evil properties, which the holy 
 Scriptures instruct us to avoid, and of good proper- 
 ties which they exhort us to cultivate, it may be 
 doubted whether there be any which more power- 
 fully demand our attention in the large and com- 
 prehensive influence which they respectively main- 
 tain over our welfare, than pride and humility. By 
 considering them, as they are here set before us by 
 the apostle, in conjunction, and exhibiting the hate- 
 ful character of the one and the loveliness of the 
 other in the way of contrast, we shall probably be 
 the more strongly induced to adopt and observe the 
 precept, for the enforcing of which the qualities are 
 thus set in opposition. With the blessing of God, 
 therefore, I propose, in the present discourse, first 
 to bring the two qualities in succession somewhat 
 fully before you; and then to conclude with en- 
 forcing the precept, that you " be all clothed with 
 humility." 
 
 I. And, first, that we may take up the view of 
 pride from its origin, whence did it commence but 
 from him who is the author of all evil ? Pride is an 
 overweening opinion of our own dignity, and a pro- 
 portionate deficiency in due respect and esteem for 
 others. And what was it but this which filled the 
 heart of Satan, when, arrogantly rebelling against 
 Him who is King of kings and Lord of lords, he
 
 ZoO Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 strove to exalt his throne above the stars of God, 
 and to liken himself to the Most Highest? Of 
 those wonderful events which took place in the 
 invisible world, in the world of spirits, before the 
 creation of man, the word of truth supplies us with 
 no detailed information ; doubtless, because such 
 information would not be for our profit. Some par- 
 ticulars, however, are incidentally told us of the 
 fallen angels ; as that " they sinned, and kept not 
 their first estate or principality, but left their own 
 habitation ; wherefore God spared them not, but 
 cast them down to hell, and delivered them into 
 chains of darkness, to be reserved unto the judg- 
 ment of the great day * : " an awful warning to all 
 those to whom their fate is revealed ; a tremendous 
 example of the sinfulness and danger of pride, the 
 sin by which they fell. 
 
 2dly. As pride introduced rebellion into heaven, 
 so was it the passion by which the same dreadful 
 effect was introduced on earth. The devil, who had 
 fatally experienced its influence on himself, judged 
 that it might, with success, be exerted on our first 
 parents. " Ye shall not surely die," said he ; " for 
 God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then 
 your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, 
 knowing good and evil."f The experiment suc- 
 ceeded. Proudly desirous of rising to a degree of 
 distinction, which his bountiful Creator had not 
 seen fit to grant, man was guilty of disobedience : 
 and the first discovery which he made, a discovery 
 
 * Jude 6. t Gen. iii. 5.
 
 MANX.] Pride contrasted with Humility. 251 
 
 which, sooner or later, pride will always be brought 
 to make, was of his real weakness and misery. " The 
 eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that 
 they were naked."* 
 
 3dly. As pride, through the artifice of the devil, 
 brought disobedience and sin into the world, it has 
 ever been one of the leading principles by which 
 he has continued to actuate his children. Together 
 with " the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes," 
 in other words, sensuality and covetousness, there 
 is no passion which more powerfully works in the 
 children of disobedience, which more imperiously 
 rules over those who are devoted to the world, 
 than " the pride of life." You trace it in either sex 
 and in every age. Infinitely varied in its objects, 
 and exhibiting itself under a boundless diversity of 
 appearances, it bears sway in every worldly and 
 carnal heart. Superiority of bodily endowments, 
 health, strength, or beauty ; superiority of mental 
 distinction, more powerful talents or more exten- 
 sive acquirements ; the accidental superiority of 
 fortune, rank, honour, or power ; nay, what may 
 seem too incongruous to be supposed true, superio- 
 rity (at least a fancied superiority) in religious at- 
 tainments ; all supply food to pamper the insatiable 
 appetite of pride. Between the passion and its 
 stimulus there is a constant re-action. Pride is 
 flattered and encouraged by a real or fancied supe- 
 riority; and it is pride which prompts us to the exer- 
 tions by which that superiority is to be attained 
 
 * Gen. iii. 7.
 
 252 Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 4thly. A principle so extensive in its operation, 
 and derived withal from such an origin, cannot but 
 be powerful in its effects ; nor can those effects be 
 otherwise than of a malignant and noxious character. 
 Proud of their several accomplishments, the strong 
 oppresses the weak, the beautiful disdains the 
 homely, the learned derides the ignorant, the rich 
 and powerful trample on the humble and the poor ; 
 while he, who has made an imaginary progress in 
 spiritual improvement, looks scornfully on him whom 
 he esteems his less favoured brother, and puts him 
 away, with " Stand aside ; come not near me ; for I 
 am holier than thou." Look abroad into the world ; 
 examine the intercourse between man and man ; 
 trace the causes of evils which disturb the harmony, 
 and most powerfully contribute to the misery, of 
 society ; see whence arise schisms in the church, 
 and rebellions in the state : and among all " the 
 lusts which war in the members" of men, and give 
 rise to " the wars and fightings among them," what 
 more abundant, what more pestilential source is 
 there than pride? Pride first brought sin and 
 misery into the world ; and pride is one of the keen- 
 est incentives of all the evils, whether public or 
 private, national or domestic, ecclesiastical or civil, 
 which are now disseminated through it. 
 
 5thly. That such and so noxious a quality should 
 be pleasing to Almighty God, it were foolish and 
 impious to suppose. Prejudicial as it hath proved 
 itself to his glory, by introducing disobedience and 
 unhappiness among the works of his hands, it cannot
 
 MANX.] Pride contrasted with Humility. 253 
 
 but be displeasing in his sight. That it is so, the 
 word of God himself assures us. Of this quality 
 we are told, as of other worldly principles, that " it 
 is not of the Father ;" that it is hateful in the sight 
 of God ; and that it is the forerunner of destruction : 
 of those, who are actuated by this quality, it is told 
 us, elsewhere as well as in the text expressly, that 
 " God resisteth the proud;" that he " will destroy 
 the house of the proud;" that " he that exalteth 
 himself, shall be abased ; " that " every one that is 
 proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord." * 
 
 How should it be otherwise ? One of the distin- 
 guishing marks of those times of heathen depravity, 
 when " men did not like to retain God in their 
 knowledge," was pride, f One of the distinguish- 
 ing marks of that apostasy from truth, of which the 
 apostle prophesied, that " in the last days perilous 
 times should come," is pride4 Pride is the most 
 appropriate characteristic of that " man of sin, the 
 son of perdition ;" whom the apostle again foresaw 
 in the spirit, as " opposing and exalting himself 
 above all that is called God, or that is worshipped : 
 so that he as God, sitteth in the temple of God, 
 showing himself that he is God."$ It is of the 
 very essence of this hateful quality, to be estranged 
 from the knowledge, to be at enmity with the glory, 
 of the living God; how then can we suppose but 
 that God must hate and abhor it ? 
 
 * Prov. xvi. 5. t Rom. i- 28. 30. 
 
 | 2 Tim. iii. 1,2. 2 Thess. ii. 4.
 
 254- Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 II. From thus considering the character of pride, 
 let us return to the more pleasing view of its oppo- 
 site, humility; and see how in the various particulars, 
 to which our attention has been now directed, the 
 deformity of the one is contrasted by the loveliness 
 of the other. 
 
 First, therefore, let it be remarked, that as pride 
 cast Satan and his angels out of heaven, so it was 
 humility, which, by keeping the blessed spirits in 
 their allegiance to the Almighty, kept them also in 
 possession of their heavenly abodes. Superior as 
 they are to other created beings, and excelling in 
 strength, they are for nothing so much distinguished 
 by the Holy Scriptures, as for their dutiful submission 
 to, and performance of, the Divine will. " They do 
 the commandments of the Lord ;" they " hearken 
 unto the voice of his word ;" they "are his minis- 
 ters to do his pleasure * : " the alacrity and perfect- 
 ness with which they do the will of " our Father 
 which is in heaven" are set before us by our Saviour 
 as models for our conduct upon earth, t Nor can a 
 brighter instance of humility in a created being be 
 proposed for our admiration than that which the 
 beloved disciple beheld in the spirit, when the 
 blessed inhabitants of heaven, in token of the most 
 devout and lowly adoration of the Lord God Al- 
 mighty, " fell down before him that sat on the 
 throne, and worshipped him that liveth for ever and 
 ever, and cast their crowns before the throne. " J 
 
 * Psalm ciii. 21. f Matt. vi. 10. J Rev. iv. 10.
 
 MANT.] Pride contrasted with Humility. 255 
 
 2dly. Did pride occasion the fall of man ? It 
 was humility which reinstated him in 'God's favour : 
 humility, beyond all conception great ; for what idea 
 can be formed by man equal to that, which was ex- 
 hibited in the person of Him, " who being in the 
 form of God thought it not robbery to be equal 
 with God ; but made himself of no reputation, and 
 took upon him the form of a servant, and was made 
 in the likeness of men ; and being found in fashion 
 as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient 
 unto death, even the death of the cross."* God 
 manifest in the flesh and made man : He who made 
 the world, submitting to be imprisoned in the womb 
 of an earthly mother, and to be clothed with perish- 
 able flesh ; the Lord of all things demeaning him- 
 self to the condition of a servant ; the Judge of the 
 world suffering an agonising, an ignominious, a ser- 
 vile, an accursed death : O what a mystery of hu- 
 mility for the angels to . desire to look into ! O 
 what a lesson to fill us with shame of face and low- 
 liness of heart ; us, proud, weak, and sinful men ! 
 
 3dly. When pride had gained a conquest over 
 the allegiance of our first parents, did it continue to 
 reign in their descendants, a most powerful motive 
 in actuating the worldly man? Opposed to this 
 prevailing principle in the child of the wicked one 
 is that which actuates the faithful and consistent 
 follower of Christ. Redeemed from sin and death 
 by the infinite condescension of the Son of God, the 
 disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus, the worshipper 
 
 Phil. if. 8.
 
 256 Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 of a crucified Saviour, is well convinced that pride 
 was not made for man, much less for a Christian man; 
 but that humility is the very badge of his profession. 
 All those dispositions, which his Redeemer and 
 Master hath marked with especial approbation, and 
 hath made essential to the spirit of Christianity, are 
 inseparably interwoven with humility. Without hu- 
 mility, where is the love of God, which cannot exist 
 distinct from a dutiful submission to his command- 
 ments ? Without humility, where is the love of man, 
 that love which consists in the cultivation of charitable 
 affections, in the exercise of charitable services, from 
 one towards another ? Without humility, where is 
 poverty of spirit and contrition of soul ? where are 
 meekness and mercy ? where is purity of heart ? 
 where are peace and righteousness ? where is re- 
 pentance for sin, and faith, exclusive of every meri- 
 torious claim, faith in the blood of the Redeemer ? 
 
 It was an emphatical expression, and one which 
 comprehended within itself a wide range of Christian 
 duty, when the apostle Paul spoke to the Ephesian 
 church of " serving the Lord with all humility of 
 mind."* A proud Christian is a contradiction in 
 terms ; humility is of the very essence of the Gos- 
 pel. 
 
 4thly. Does pride abound in consequence, in- 
 jurious to the well-being of society? What more 
 effectual remedy than humility to heal the wounds 
 occasioned by an arrogant and imperious temper ? 
 Would men conform to the directions of the Gospel, 
 Acts xx. 19.
 
 MANT.J Pride contrasted with Humility. 257 
 
 and, in the true spirit of Christian lowliness, would 
 " each esteem other better than himself," how would 
 brother accord with brother, and man with man ; 
 how would brethren dwell together in unity, and 
 Christians take sweet counsel together, and walk in 
 the house of God as friends ; how would nation cease 
 to rise up against nation, and kingdom against king- 
 dom ; whilst mutual forbearance should pave the 
 way for mutual and universal harmony, and peace 
 should flourish out of the earth, and righteousness 
 should look down from heaven I First, the pride of 
 the devil, and then the pride of man, rendered a 
 Redeemer necessary for the salvation of the world. 
 He came, and wrought salvation by humility ; and 
 left a lesson to be learned by his disciples. O might 
 the example be copied ! O might the precept be 
 observed by those who call themselves by the name 
 of Christ ! the angelic hymn should then be realised 
 by the promotion of " God's glory in the highest, 
 of peace on earth, of good will among men." 
 
 Lastly, Is pride hateful in the sight of God? 
 What is more pleasing to him than humility ? " He 
 resisteth the proud: but he giveth grace to the 
 humble." Infinitely as he is exalted above the things 
 of earth, and incapable of being contained by the 
 heaven and heaven of heavens, he vouchsafes to 
 visit the lowly man with his especial favour, and to 
 choose him for his peculiar dwelling-place. " For 
 thus saith the High and Lofty One that inhabiteth 
 eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in the high 
 and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite 
 
 VOL. i. s
 
 258 Pride contrasted -with Humility, [BISHOP 
 
 and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, 
 and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."* 
 " Before honour," saith the wise king, " is humility." 
 And what honour is to be compared with that which 
 is attributed to the humble man, to have the Lord 
 continually nigh unto him, to be watched over by the 
 Most Highest, to be blessed with special visitations 
 of grace and mercy from above ! 
 
 And now, my brethren, having set before you two 
 opposite qualities, not perhaps in the colours in 
 which mankind in general survey them, but in those 
 which I apprehend are given to them by the Scrip- 
 tures of truth, I here leave them for your consider- 
 ation. It is for you, for each and all of you, to 
 choose between that quality which cast the devil 
 and his angels into hell, and that which hath pre- 
 served the angels of God in heaven ; between that 
 which wrought the disobedience of Adam, and that 
 which was perfected in the sacrifice of Christ ; be- 
 tween that which still reigns in the children of dis- 
 obedience, the servants of the devil, and that which 
 distinguishes the faithful follower of the meek and 
 lowly Jesus ; between that which propagates dissen- 
 sions and misery among mankind, and that which 
 for dissension and misery introduces happiness and 
 peace ; between that which is rejected by the Al- 
 mighty with abhorrence, and that which is fostered 
 by him with distinguished love. 
 
 If these things be true, and the word of God 
 teaches me to believe that they are so, no man, at 
 
 * Isa. Ivii. 15.
 
 MANX.] Pride contrasted with Humility. 259 
 
 least no reasonable man, can hesitate in his choice. 
 It is in fact equivalent with the choice which Moses 
 by command of God proposed to the Israelites, 
 " Behold, I set before you this day good and evil, 
 life and death, a blessing and a curse." Be ye 
 therefore clothed with humility, my brethren. 
 " Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God: 
 and be ye all subject one to another." Let humility 
 towards God prompt you to fear God, and to keep 
 his commandments with unqualified obedience ; to 
 pray to him, to praise him, and to thank him for all 
 his blessings ; to put your trust in his mercy for 
 salvation through the precious blood-shedding of 
 his Son : to rely for grace to serve and please him 
 on the sanctifying influence of his Holy Spirit. Let 
 your humility towards each other prompt you to 
 " love as brethren :" " in lowliness of mind each to 
 esteem other better than himself:" to " forbear one 
 another in love :" to " endeavour to keep the unity 
 of the Spirit in the bond of peace." Copy, in a 
 word, the humility of your Saviour ; and be encou- 
 raged and supported by the hope of receiving some 
 measure of his reward. For the exceeding great 
 humility, which he manifested in taking upon him- 
 self the human nature, and suffering therein for the 
 sins of men, " God highly exalted him" in the same 
 nature, " and gave him a name which is above every 
 name ;" and of those who follow after his great 
 humility, we are infallibly assured, that God will 
 visit them with his favour here, and make them par- 
 takers of his exaltation hereafter, 
 s 2
 
 260 Pride contrasted with Humility. [BISHOP 
 
 Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender 
 love towards mankind, hast sent thy Son, our Sa- 
 viour, Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh and 
 to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind 
 should follow the example of his great humility : 
 Mercifully grant, that we may both follow the ex- 
 ample of his patience, and also be made partakers of 
 his resurrection, through the same Jesus Christ, our 
 Lord : To whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost 
 be all honour and glory for ever. Amen.
 
 MANT.] On Spiritual Pride. 261 
 
 ON SPIRITUAL PRIDE. 
 
 LUKE, vi. 41, 42. 
 
 Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but 
 perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye ? 
 
 Either how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, let me pull out 
 the mote that is in thine eye, when thou thyself beholdest not the 
 beam that is in thine own eye 9 Thou hypocrite 
 
 THE character of our blessed Lord was distin- 
 guished for its mildness and gentleness ; and the re- 
 proofs, which he directed against the sinner, generally 
 partook of these his characteristic qualities. There 
 was however a particular order of men amongst the 
 Jews, in his censures of whom he appears to have 
 departed from this general spirit of forbearance, 
 and to have condemned them with unmixed se- 
 verity of manner and of language. In his conduct 
 towards other persons he mingled mercy with 
 justice ; he did " not break the bruised reed, nor 
 quench the smoking flax :" but upon the Pharisees 
 he poured out the vials of his hottest displeasure 
 and indignation. He called them, as his messenger 
 had done before, " serpents and a generation of 
 vipers*;" he charged them with folly and volun- 
 
 * Matt, xxiii. 33. 
 s 3
 
 262 On Spiritual Pride. [BISHOP 
 
 tary blindness, with outward purity and inward pol- 
 lution * : he denounced upon them woe, incurable 
 and reiterated woef : he threatened them with the 
 damnation of hell.J 
 
 Now for such appellations and such a sentence 
 as these to be drawn from the merciful lips of the 
 meek and lowly Jesus, there must have been some 
 extraordinary and urgent occasion. The Pharisees 
 must have been unusually depraved. Their sin 
 must have been of a very heinous character. And 
 yet the Pharisees were " of the very straitest sect 
 of the Jewish religion." They valued themselves 
 upon their descent from Abraham, the father of 
 the faithful, and upon their rigid and punctual ob- 
 servance of the law. They were diligent in the 
 practice of ceremonial righteousness. They were 
 remarkable for the decency of their outward be- 
 haviour. They avoided those moral delinquencies, 
 which are for the most part of evil report, " adultery, 
 injustice, extortion :" nay, it should have seemed 
 that their conduct was regulated by a religious 
 principle, for they thanked God for the possession 
 of superior sanctity. The fact however was, that 
 all this conduct, for which the Pharisees valued 
 themselves, was the very sin which rendered them 
 offensive in the eyes of God. The motive of their 
 behaviour was not a religious but a worldly and 
 selfish principle ; not a love of God, but a love of 
 themselves : in one word, it was pride ; pride of the 
 
 * Matt, xxiii. 27. f Matt, xxiii. 13 29. 
 | Matt, xxiii. 83.
 
 MANX.] On Spiritual Pride. 263 
 
 worst sort, spiritual pride : pride, the principal fea- 
 tures of which are delineated in the words of our 
 Saviour in the text ; pride, which exercises itself in 
 an hypocritical assumption of superior sanctity, to 
 which it has no real pretensions ; in a voluntary and 
 resolute blindness to the sins, of which itself is 
 guilty ; and in an uncharitable propensity to dis- 
 cover, to proclaim, and to magnify, the faults of 
 others. There were various particulars in the 
 practice of these self-righteous religionists, which 
 our Saviour at several times made the subject of his 
 censures ; but this hateful and noxious quality, 
 pride, appears to have been at the bottom of them 
 all, and to have diffused its leaven as it were 
 through the lump, and to have mingled itself with 
 all their actions. 
 
 The sinful character of the Pharisees, and the 
 woe denounced upon them by Christ, are recorded 
 for our instruction. And with reason. Pride is 
 natural to the human heart : it is a seducing and 
 dangerous' quality in its various forms ; but in no 
 one so dangerous as in the form of spiritual pride. 
 It soothes and flatters the weakness of our deceitful 
 hearts, to think that we, like the Pharisees, are re- 
 garded with signal and exclusive favour by the Al- 
 mighty ; that we, like them, are invested with 
 extraordinary holiness, and exempted from the 
 commission of sins, to which our brethren are 
 prone : and it is therefore no uncommon sight to 
 behold the professors of a religion, of which the 
 singular distinction is humility of heart, priding 
 s 4
 
 264> On Spiritual Pride. [BISHOP 
 
 themselves upon an assumed character for superior 
 sanctity ; " perceiving not the beam that is in 
 their own eye," resolutely blind to their own beset- 
 ting sins ; but at the same time eager to " pull out 
 the mote that is in their brother's eye," closely 
 scrutinising and condemning the faults of others. 
 Of such a spirit the danger must appear, from the 
 conduct of our Saviour towards those of his own 
 brethren after the flesh, who were actuated by it. 
 Let us direct our thoughts at present to its sinful- 
 ness, and to its inconsistency with the character 
 recommended to the Christian, under the three 
 several features, under which the text offers it to 
 our notice. 
 
 1. The first point of view in which spiritual pride 
 demands our attention, is its hypocritical assump- 
 tion of superior sanctity, to which it has no real 
 pretensions. 
 
 The word " hypocrite," which is of Greek ex- 
 traction, in its primary signification means one, who 
 personates a character that is not his own ; for 
 instance, like an actor in a play. In a religious 
 sense therefore we understand by it one who coun- 
 terfeits a character for piety and virtue, which does 
 not belong to him. The hypocrite is (if I may so 
 express myself) a practical liar. The liar is guilty 
 of falsehood by his mouth; the hypocrite by his 
 conduct: the liar speaks falsehood, the hypocrite 
 acts it. The main difference between the two 
 appears to be, that, whereas the liar may with occa- 
 sional falsehood unite a certain portion of truth,
 
 MANX.] On Spiritual Pride, 265 
 
 the whole life of the hypocrite must be system- 
 atically a tissue of delusion and deceit. Of such a 
 property as hypocrisy it were unnecessary to speak 
 at length, in order to show its sinfulness in the 
 eyes of God, and its inconsistency with the cha- 
 racter of a disciple of Christ. If truth be an attri- 
 bute of God *, hypocrisy, which is throughout at 
 variance with truth, must be hateful to him. If 
 God abhorreth a lief, he must abhor hypocrisy, 
 of which lying is the very essence and constituent 
 principle. If for this cause Christ was born and 
 came into the world, that he might bear witness 
 unto the truth J, how can hypocrisy, which is at 
 irreconcileable enmity with truth, be compatible 
 with his Gospel ? If it be the duty of his disciples 
 to have their conversation in the world and towards 
 each other in simplicity and godly sincerity , how 
 can the habitual dissembler have any station among 
 his followers ? If whosoever loveth and maketh a 
 lie is to be shut out of Christ's heavenly kingdom, 
 and to have his part in the lake which burneth with 
 fire and brimstone ||, what hope of escaping that 
 " second death" can be entertained by him, who 
 hath clothed himself with deceit as with a raiment ; 
 to whom falsehood is as the cloak that is upon him, 
 and as the girdle that he is always girded withal ? 
 2. Let us proceed to a second feature of spiritual 
 
 * Deut. xxxii. 4. t Prov. xii. 22. 
 
 f Jol?n xviii. 37. 2 Cor. i. 12. 
 
 II Rev. xxi. 8. xxii. 15.
 
 266 On Spiritual Pride. [BISHOP 
 
 pride, exhibited in the text, consisting in a volun- 
 tary and resolute blindness to the sins, of which 
 itself is guilty. " Why perceivest thou not the 
 beam that is in thine own eye?" 
 
 " Lord, I thank thee that I am not as other men, 
 extortioners, unjust, adulterers : I fast twice in the 
 week : I give tithes of all that I possess." Such is 
 the language of self-conceit, of self-righteousness. 
 Such is the language now, as it was heretofore, of 
 him who is a Pharisee in spirit. He avoids those 
 more prominent crimes, which obtrude themselves 
 upon the public eye, and reflect disgrace on those 
 who commit them ; but does he also pray and 
 strive to be cleansed from secret faults, to be 
 " kept back from presumptuous sins, lest they get 
 the dominion over him ? " He practises those cere- 
 monial observances which it were unlawful to omit ; 
 but is he equally diligent in executing " the 
 weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, 
 and faith?" In the discharge of his religious 
 duties, does he " worship God in spirit and in 
 truth?" in the exercise of brotherly love towards 
 his neighbour, does he endeavour to be " perfect 
 even as his Father which is in heaven is perfect ? " 
 in the control of his appetites and passions, does he 
 " purify himself even as God is pure ? " To pro- 
 secute the enquiry no farther than the very words 
 with which the Pharisee in the parable is repre- 
 sented as appearing before the Lord, is there no 
 arrogance, no presumption, in the affected humility 
 with which he thanks the Lord for his superior
 
 MANT.] On Spiritual Pride. 267 
 
 sanctity? Is there no uncharitableness in the 
 comparison which he institutes between himself 
 and other men ? Is there no reliance upon his own 
 worthiness, no ostentatious display of his own good- 
 ness, in the declaration which he makes of his per- 
 formance of religious offices? These were the 
 parts of his character, to which the Pharisee in the 
 parable, who is held up to us as an example of 
 the Pharisaical spirit, wherever and whenever it is 
 found, ought to have directed his attention : these 
 were " the beam in his own eye," which he, and 
 which others of the same spirit, ought to consider, 
 but are altogether unwilling to perceive. 
 
 This voluntary blindness to our own faults is 
 sinful in God's sight, and is especially unworthy of 
 a follower of Christ. It is required of us to " com- 
 mune with our own hearts," and to become ac- 
 quainted with the deceitfulness and wickedness of 
 them, in order that, with all lowliness and prostra- 
 tion of soul, we may bewail our own wretchedness ; 
 that we may acknowledge and feel the necessity of 
 a Redeemer ; that we may be (as far as it be pos- 
 sible) duly sensible of the infinite mercy of God in 
 sending his Son for our redemption ; and that we 
 may pray and labour fervently, that our hearts may 
 be cleansed and renewed under the sanctifying 
 influence of the Holy Spirit of God. But such 
 a sense of our own helplessness and misery, and of 
 the mercy of God in Christ; such humility and 
 devout gratitude; such repentance and sanctifi- 
 cation, cannot be attained, unless we be well con-
 
 268 On Spiritual Pride. [BISHOP 
 
 vinced of the hereditary corruption of our nature, 
 and of our own actual sins : nay, on the other hand, 
 by fixing our thoughts on what we fancy to be the 
 better parts of our character, which it is natural for 
 us to do, when they are thus diverted from, the 
 worse, we are supplying materials for that vain- 
 glorious disposition, which we derive by natural 
 descent from Adam, and are raising additional im- 
 pediments in the way of that humility and poorness 
 of spirit, which become us as followers of Christ. 
 
 3. But, thirdly, it is not only by shutting our eyes 
 to the sins of our own hearts and lives, that the 
 disposition passing under our review betrays itself: 
 blind as it ig in this respect, it is no less distin- 
 guished for its clear-sightedness in another. Like 
 " the moles and the bats " in discerning its own sin- 
 fulness, it has the keenness of an eagle's eye in 
 penetrating into the faults of its neighbours. 
 
 " Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy 
 brother's eye, but perceivest not the beam that is 
 in thine own eye? Either how canst thou say to 
 thy brother, Brother, let me pull out the mote that 
 is in thine eye, when thou thyself beholdest not 
 the beam that is in thine own eye?" The ques- 
 tion is in the words of our Saviour. Do we require 
 its answer? One will serve for each part of the 
 demand. Both our blindness in one case, and our 
 sharp-sightedness in the other, proceed from the 
 same cause, the sinfulness of our nature, and its 
 consequent disinclination to accommodate itself to 
 the laws of Christ.
 
 MANX.] On Spiritual Pride. 269 
 
 " Why perceivest thou not the beam that is in 
 thine own eye ? " Pride is the fatal cause : pride, 
 which thinks too highly of itself, and will not suffer 
 us to allow, that we are depraved and sinful crea- 
 tures. " Why beholdest thou the mote that is in 
 thy brother's eye?" Still pride is the cause ; pride, 
 which as it thinks too highly of itself, thinks also 
 too lowly and contemptuously of others : which, 
 as it forbids us to see our own depravity and sinful- 
 ness, magnifies at the same time the faults, probably 
 the less heinous faults, of others ; I say, probably 
 the less heinous faults of others, for such appears 
 to be the intention of our blessed Lord in the op- 
 position which he has introduced between the beam 
 in our own eye, and the mote in our brother's ; and 
 such appears also to be the purport of various de- 
 clarations hi the word of God, which, whatever sen- 
 tence it may pass upon other instances of human 
 corruption, expressly marks out the proud man as 
 the object of God's resistance.* 
 
 It is probably for this reason, namely, because 
 so hateful and noxious a principle as pride is the 
 foundation, that a censorious spirit, a disposition to 
 cull out and enlarge upon the follies and vices of 
 other men, is so severely reprehended in Holy 
 Scripture, and especially declared so much at en- 
 mity with the Christian spirit Of that spirit one 
 of the most prominent qualities, I believe our Sa- 
 viour's words will be my warrant in saying, that 
 the most distinguishing quality, is charity or bro- 
 
 * James iv. 6.
 
 270 On Spiritual Pride. [BISHOP 
 
 therly love : charity, of which the apostle says, 
 that, as on the one hand " it vaunteth not itself, is 
 not puffed up" by a contemplation of its own ex- 
 cellence, so on the other hand " it doth not behave 
 itself unseemly" by disparaging the characters of 
 others, but "believeth all things, hopeth all things" 
 in their favour. As children of a merciful Father, 
 as professors of a gospel of love, charity in all its 
 various bearings and departments, and among the 
 rest in thinking and speaking favourably of our 
 brethren, is enjoined upon us : and all uncharitable- 
 ness, of which a censorious disposition is a principal 
 ingredient, is as expressly forbidden : and, that the 
 commandments of God may not be without the 
 sanction of his promises and threatenings to enforce 
 them, we are warned to " judge not, and we shall 
 not be judged ;" to " condemn not, and we shall 
 not be condemned." 
 
 It remains, that a brief application be now made 
 of the remarks which have been laid before you, by 
 an appeal to the consciences of you, my brethren, 
 upon the subject. Ask your hearts then, and ask 
 them with faithfulness and sincerity, whether you 
 are clear of the offences, that have been now exa- 
 mined ; offences, so much the more to be dreaded, 
 as they are so flattering to the weakness and vanity 
 of man. Does no hypocrisy, no acting of a cha- 
 racter which does not really belong to you, enter 
 into your performance of the offices of religion ? 
 Are you satisfied with the outward appearance of 
 devotion, instead of being sanctified inwardly in
 
 MAXT.] On Spiritual Pride. 271 
 
 your hearts ? Do you worship God, not with your 
 lips only, but in your lives ; not only with the 
 ceremonies of religion, but in spirit and in truth ? 
 Do you cultivate the spirit of godliness, as well a> 
 observe its forms ? 
 
 How are you with respect to your own con- 
 sciousness of sin? Do you " perceive not the beam 
 that is in your own eye ? " Are you blind to your 
 manifold offences ? or do you humbly and contritely 
 acknowledge, that, whatever wickedness by the 
 grace of God you may be enabled to avoid, still you 
 have followed too much the devices and desires of 
 your own heart, you have offended against God's 
 holy laws, you have left undone those things which 
 you ought to have done, you have done those things 
 which you ought not to have done, and that there 
 is no health in you ? How are you with respect 
 to your brother ? Are you quick-sighted in " per- 
 ceiving the mote that is in his eye ;" in prying into 
 his faults, inferior perhaps to your own offences, in 
 magnifying them, and bringing them out to notice? 
 or do you tenderly throw over them the veil of 
 Christian charity, and mete them with that measure 
 which you would wish to be measured with your- 
 self? My brethren, as you value the blessing of 
 God, your characters as followers of Christ, and 
 your own salvation, refrain from that Pharisaical 
 spirit, which signally displays itself in a sanctified 
 hypocrisy, in a conceited admiration of its own 
 righteousness, and in censorious reflections upon
 
 272 On Spiritual Pride. [MAXT. 
 
 others : Be holy ; be humble ; be charitable. Such 
 dispositions are the most infallible stamp of a true 
 follower of Christ on earth ; and by such must we 
 be qualified to be admitted into his presence, and 
 to be made partakers of his joy in heaven.
 
 PHILIP NICHOLAS SHUTTLEWORTH, D.D. 
 
 WARDEN OF NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD. 
 
 From a Volume entitled " Sermons on some of the Leading 
 Principles of Christianity. By Philip Nicholas Shuttle- 
 worth, D.D. Warden of New College, Oxford; and Rector 
 of Foxley, Wilts. 1829." 
 
 To this Volume the following Advertisement is prefixed : 
 
 " THE greater portion of the following Discourses were de- 
 livered on various occasions before the University of Oxford. 
 The leading object of the Author in the selection of his sub- 
 jects was that of counteracting those popular arguments and 
 prejudices against the credibility of Revelation, which, how- 
 ever superficial, he conceives to stand not unfrequently most 
 seriously in the way of the religious belief of those young per- 
 sons, the eagerness of whose judgments has not yet been cor- 
 rected by persevering habits of impartial reflection. It is with 
 the hope that they may also be occasionally found serviceable 
 to others, besides those to whom they were originally ad- 
 dressed, that they are now laid before the public." 
 
 VOL.1.
 
 275 
 
 WOE UNTO THEM THAT CALL EVIL 
 GOOD, AND GOOD EVIL. 
 
 ISAIAH, v. 20. 
 
 Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil ; that put darkness 
 for light, and light for darkness ; that put bitter for sweet, and 
 sweet for bitter. 
 
 THE words of my text afford a salutary admonition 
 against one of the most prevailing and seductive 
 follies, to use no harsher an appellation, which 
 attach themselves to those peculiar states of so- 
 ciety, where large assemblages of persons of the 
 same age and class of life, particularly the YOUNG 
 and inexperienced, are much thrown together. Those 
 who from their accidental situation in life have not 
 had an opportunity of observing what are the par- 
 ticular seductions by which young and ingenuous 
 minds are, upon their first entrance into the world, 
 gradually led away from the strictness of their 
 early principles, and rendered callous to the feel- 
 ings of self-reproach, will hardly conceive how much 
 of the real profligacy, which too often disgraces and 
 embitters the maturer age of even the polished and 
 well-educated, owes its first origin to the abuse and 
 misapplication of words in questions of religion and 
 morals amongst the young. It is from a serious 
 T 2
 
 276 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 conviction of the fearful mischief thus occasioned, 
 that I wish to avail myself of the present oppor- 
 tunity of pointing out some of the many evil conse- 
 quences resulting from the indulgence of this per- 
 nicious habit ; in the hope that, if perchance there 
 should happen to be, amongst those who now hear 
 me, any who, from thoughtlessness, levity, or any 
 less venial motive, have been accustomed in the 
 hours of social conversation to attempt to confound 
 in the breasts of their companions, by sophistry or 
 by ridicule, those primary -notions of right and 
 wrong which every good and unhackneyed mind 
 feels strongly impressed upon itself, and the clear 
 apprehension of which is indispensably requisite for 
 purity of conduct, they will in mercy to themselves 
 and others learn to check a propensity which too 
 often leads to consequences far more destructive to 
 both soul and body than they themselves foresee or 
 even suspect. 
 
 Nothing, they may be assured, is so easy as to 
 entrap the understanding, when it is off its guard 
 in the hours of social relaxation, to the admission of 
 plausible but most pernicious fallacies on the sub- 
 ject of morals and religion. Man is so completely 
 a creature formed for society with his fellows, that 
 the substances of the natural world do not with 
 more mechanical certainty act and re-act upon one 
 another, than the habits of his mind, the tone of his 
 sentiments, and the associations of his ideas, depend 
 upon and are influenced by the companions with 
 whom he intercommunes, and the conversation in
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 277 
 
 which he indulges. In by far the greater propor- 
 tion of our waking hours we are all of us, per- 
 ceptibly or imperceptibly, acquiring something from 
 our neighbours, either by the gradual adoption of 
 their feelings, or by the unlearning the fixedness and 
 decision of our own. But by far the most influential 
 season for producing this effect is the one just now 
 alluded to, when the mind, disinclined to that rigor- 
 ous precision of thought which accompanies its more 
 studious hours, throws itself for repose upon those 
 desultory and playful associations, which give to the 
 unrestrained intercourse of social conversation its 
 most seductive charm. There is sure to be at such 
 moments a natural contagion of common feeling, 
 which it is difficult to resist ; precision and austerity 
 of sentiment then is, or at least appears to be, out 
 of place ; a spurious liberality, which in reality is 
 nothing more than laxity and mutual indulgence 
 for each other's vicious propensities, is then con- 
 sidered to be the fit tone of cultivated society ; the 
 world, it is urged, requires such and such sacrifices, 
 such and such relaxations of the unconciliatory 
 harshness of Christian ethics ; and thus, at a period 
 of life when the mind, from the diffidence natural to 
 youth, is most unwilling to run counter to what it 
 conceives to be the established feeling of those 
 whose good opinion it is anxious to conciliate, all 
 that the parent has so anxiously inculcated, all that 
 revelation enjoins under such solemn denunciations, 
 are to be surrendered to a confusion of idea, engen- 
 T 3
 
 278 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 dered by a conventional misapplication of the dis- 
 tinctive appellations of vice and virtue. 
 
 Those only who have been much occupied in the 
 investigation of truth are at all aware to what an 
 incredible degree the distinctness of our associations 
 and intellectual perceptions depends upon our cor- 
 rect use of the machinery of words. To think with 
 perfect accuracy and precision, is on no occasion an 
 easy, not to say a possible, task. Even in our more 
 serious studies we are continually confounding ana- 
 logies with resemblances, and resemblances with 
 identity : and this, even when we strive to approxi- 
 mate to truth, by comparing ideas directly with 
 ideas, without the intervention of language. But 
 the use of general and of equivocal terms, in conse- 
 quence of the inadequate conceptions afforded by 
 the former, and the false associations suggested by 
 the latter, add to this primary confusion in a tenfold 
 proportion. It is a dangerous mistake therefore to 
 imagine, that because words are not things, but 
 merely their conventional representatives, any in- 
 accuracy or misapplication in the use of them, what- 
 ever be the controverted proposition, can lead to 
 little inconvenience, provided the understandings of 
 the parties concerned have a sufficiently complete 
 knowledge of the real nature of the subjects under 
 discussion. This is not the place for a metaphysical 
 disquisition, otherwise the grossness of this fallacy 
 might easily be pointed out ; nor, considering who 
 the persons are whom I am now addressing, can 
 such a disquisition be necessary. By far the greater
 
 SHUTILEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 279 
 
 part of those here assembled must be aware, if not 
 experimentally, at least theoretically, of the painful 
 and almost inextricable uncertainty of ideas pro- 
 duced by the ambiguous acceptation of words in 
 those sciences of which the attainment of accuracy 
 and absolute truth are the object. Interchanging 
 our communications, as from the very commence- 
 ment of life we are obliged to do, through the me- 
 dium of language, we find from experience that 
 words from long usage become at length identified 
 in the mind with the things which we have accus- 
 tomed them to represent; and consequently that 
 where from early misapprehension a term has been 
 for any considerable time unduly used to express an 
 idea, a fallacious inference is frequently suggested, 
 which few persons have the penetration immediately 
 to discover, and still fewer the perseverance com- 
 pletely to correct. 
 
 It was, as is well known, in consequence of this 
 defect attaching to all existing languages, that an 
 attempt was made in the century before the last, 
 and has been revived from time to time since that 
 period, to invent a philosophical vocabulary for the 
 purposes of science, in which, each individual word 
 representing only one individual idea, the inaccuracy 
 of apprehension resulting from the use of equivocal 
 and analogous terms might be avoided. The ex- 
 periment, as might have been foreseen, fell to the 
 ground, from the impossibility of inventing or re- 
 taining in the memory the vast multiplicity of words 
 which such a language must necessarily have con-. 
 T 4?
 
 280 Woe unto tJtem that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 tained. But the fact, that so laborious and unin- 
 viting a project was ever seriously entertained by 
 men of real science is a decisive proof that the 
 tendency to inaccuracy of ideas from the unskilful 
 application of language has not been overstated. 
 
 Here then let me ask this question : If, in cases 
 with which the passions of mankind have nothing to 
 do, namely, in the investigation of abstract truth, the 
 intellectual efforts of acute men, aiming at one single 
 object without any undue bias to mislead them, 
 have been strained to the utmost for the purpose of 
 arriving at accuracy of apprehension, yet from the 
 mere defects attaching to the use of conventional 
 language that accuracy was found unattainable ; 
 what fatal confusion of ideas on the subject of 
 religion and morals may we not conceive to take 
 place in the minds of the young, and thoughtless, 
 and sensual, where language is deliberately misap- 
 plied for the express purpose of confounding the dis- 
 tinctions of right and wrong ; and where indolence, 
 and false shame, and the natural obliquity of the 
 human heart, give a false colouring to discussions in 
 which the different points of view which may be 
 taken of the same object are so many, and the 
 transitions between things really distinct are often 
 so gradual and difficult to trace ? * 
 
 * The extreme ambiguity of language as an instrument of 
 reason may be illustrated by a reference to any of the com- 
 monest objects of our experience. Take, for instance, the in- 
 finite variety of odours afforded by a single flower-bed. What 
 a multitude of distinct and delicately marked perceptions are
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 281 
 
 Of all matters of opinion, there are none, perhaps, 
 even where conviction and the establishment of 
 truth is the real no less than the ostensible object, 
 in which it is so difficult to persuade men to an uni- 
 formity of feeling, as questions upon morals. The 
 reasons for this difficulty are various. One of the 
 most obvious is, that, as ethical propositions are to 
 a great degree incapable of absolute proof, we can 
 often have no other arguments to adduce in favour of 
 our sentiments, where the express language of revela- 
 tion is silent, than that such is the light in which they 
 present themselves to our consciences. But then the 
 denial on the other side is just as easily made as our 
 own assertion ; and as there is no appeal from the 
 actual impression of each man's mind, it is evident 
 that the suggestions of worldliness and selfishness, if 
 acutely urged, may make as firm a stand in argu- 
 
 here suggested to the mind by the olfactory organs ! yet, if we 
 are called upon to designate each several sensation by words, 
 the epithets " sweet," " bitter," and perhaps half a dozen others, 
 would necessarily form the whole of our vocabulary, whilst 
 probably even those which we should be compelled to adopt, 
 would, like the two now given, be merely figurative. But the 
 ideas suggested by our moral and spiritual nature are as 
 numerous and as distinct from each other as those derived from 
 the material creation. Yet to express these we can still only 
 have recourse to the same instrumentality of language. It 
 requires a very slight acquaintance with the technicalities of 
 logic to perceive what a multitude of fallacies may thus be 
 enabled to steal into every argumentative discussion, which the 
 most suspicious and attentive disputant will scarcely be com- 
 petent to detect. ">
 
 282 Woe unto tJiem that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 ment as any that derive their origin from the sub- 
 limest and holiest aspirations of our nature. Add to 
 this, in the next place, how very small a proportion 
 of human beings, in discussing the great topics of 
 morals, bring a perfectly unbiassed mind to the 
 task. I am not here speaking of those profound and 
 elaborate controversies which are openly and pro- 
 fessedly connected with moral and theological pur- 
 suits. Few persons, I am willing to admit, who 
 have been either tolerably well educated, or are 
 tolerably well principled, when sitting down pro- 
 fessedly for the acquisition of information, have 
 any other object before them than the actual in- 
 vestigation of truth. But it is not at such mo- 
 ments that half those opinions which form our 
 character and influence our practice creep into the 
 mind. The real season for the reign of sophistry 
 and false reasoning is in the semi-vacant hour of in- 
 tellectual recreation ; in that middle state between 
 repose and mental activity, when the thoughts 
 rather trifle with the subjects of our contemplation, 
 than discuss them with precision ; when we are 
 more disposed to be amused with the ingenuity of an 
 author, than shocked by the falseness of his pro- 
 positions, and pardon the dangerous tendency of the 
 moral for the sake of the elegance of language and 
 of idea with which it is clothed. It is then I do 
 not say that our principles necessarily give way, but 
 that much of their unbending firmness is relaxed 
 that the follies and vices of the world appear less 
 repelling, as the eye grows more familiarised to them,
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 283 
 
 and we begin to doubt whether that rigour of virtue, 
 which in our more serious hours appeared to us as 
 the highest object of our pursuit, is really after all so 
 desirable as we had imagined. 
 
 But, above all, the time of danger is in the hour 
 of social and careless intercourse amongst the 
 young : and that, not merely where the profession 
 of immorality or irreligion is unblushingly brought 
 forward for there is something in the hardihood of 
 vice from which every delicate mind instinctively 
 recoils but scarcely in a less degree, where talents 
 and the powers of amusement are employed, as too 
 often they are employed, in trifling with the awful 
 solemnity of sacred subjects ; in supporting, perhaps 
 in jest, perhaps in earnest, paradoxes in morals, and 
 in treating with levity, perhaps with ridicule, that 
 deference to God's commandments in others, which, 
 if the whole of Scripture be not a fiction, ought to 
 excite no other feeling than that of respect. It were, 
 I suspect, impossible to exaggerate the mischief 
 which is often done to young and ingenuous minds 
 by society of this description, even where the authors 
 of the mischief have intended nothing worse than the 
 mere amusement of the passing hour. It is by such 
 means that the first freshness is rubbed off from the 
 simplicity and enthusiasm of the sincere and ardent. 
 Vice becomes gradually familiarised to their minds 
 before they are aware ; their best principles without 
 being deliberately attacked are notwithstanding 
 shaken from their original foundation; and, even 
 when not yet reconciled to sin, they are at all events
 
 284 Woe unto tJiem that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 rendered less eager in their admiration of what is 
 good. But the evil rarely stops here. Few young 
 men have the fortitude to dare to be unlike their 
 contemporaries. They soon proceed to talking as 
 others do, and end by thinking and acting accord- 
 ingly. Their former uncompromising sentiments 
 respecting morals are now looked back upon as the 
 crude speculations of inexperience ; their newly 
 acquired laxity of sentiment assumes the appearance 
 of kindness and good nature : the passions, glad to 
 find an excuse for that, to which they were pre- 
 viously but too well disposed, break the fetters in 
 which conscience formerly held them ; religion, 
 which affixes its anathema upon whatever is unholy 
 and unclean, is argued down as austere, fanatical, and 
 unfitted for the actual circumstances of society, and 
 infidelity enters by the gap which profligacy had 
 made. 
 
 Another reason for the tendency so natural to 
 thoughtless minds to confound the ideas of right and 
 wrong, may be found in the fact, that vice and 
 virtue, though essentially distinct as qualities, are 
 still, in many cases, nothing more than different 
 modifications of some common subject, and, con- 
 sequently, by the aid of a little exaggeration and 
 mis-statement, extremely liable to be substituted the 
 one for the other. All our passions we believe to 
 have been given to us by Providence for a good 
 purpose ; and vice and virtue are for the most part 
 but their due application, or their misapplication. 
 But the line which separates the use of a thing
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 285 
 
 
 from its abuse is not always strongly marked ; or 
 rather, I would say, is sufficiently indistinct for 
 those, who are determined not to see clearly, to 
 afford themselves something like a plausible justi- 
 fication for the aberration of their choice. Take, 
 for example's sake, a high sense of honour, ge- 
 nerosity in the disposal of wealth, and connubial 
 attachment, three qualities of mind which reason 
 and religion cannot but approve ; and oppose to 
 them their three kindred vices, namely, an eager 
 and unchristian impatience of injury, lavish and 
 foolish expenditure, and that profligacy which re- 
 sults from the illicit intercourse of the sexes. It 
 is obvious with how little effort the mind, whose 
 moral associations have been once shaken, may be 
 induced to dwell upon the seeming high-mindedness 
 of the first of these vices, without choosing to take 
 into consideration its unsocial and irreligious cha- 
 racter ; the seeming good nature of the second, 
 overlooking the waste and misery which follows in 
 its train ; and the affection and tenderness which 
 seems not incompatible with the last, though its 
 real characteristic is selfishness, and its necessary 
 result cruelty. Give, then, to these vices but plau- 
 sible names connected with this partial and per- 
 verted mode of seeing them, and they immediately 
 come forward, if not actually as virtues, still, at all 
 events, as foibles which it were harshness to vitu- 
 perate too severely ; and thus the duellist, the man 
 of pleasure, and the man of gallantry, occupy that 
 station in society which, in a less sophisticated and
 
 286 Woe unto tJiem that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 more religious age could be maintained only by the 
 really respectable. 
 
 That these and other vices prevail as they do, is 
 indeed owing, in the first place, to the corruption of 
 man's heart; but that prevalence undoubtedly is 
 not a little increased by the false liberality which 
 attaches epithets of commendation to habits incom- 
 patible with correct principle. It is one of the ten 
 thousand daily recurring proofs of the strange in- 
 consistencies of the human character, that the same 
 persons whose consciences will not recoil for a mo- 
 ment at the actual commission of deeds of sin and 
 atrocity, and who even appear to defy public opi- 
 nion in the conduct they are pursuing, will still, to 
 the last, shrink from the admission of those terms 
 which really characterise their conduct. It is the 
 appellation, and not the actual guilt, which to them 
 constitutes the disgrace.. This sense of shame, the 
 last which the most profligate persons put off, clings 
 to the hardened libertine with the tenacity of the 
 vital principle itself, though he is perfectly aware 
 that it cannot possibly succeed in blinding either 
 himself or others. A man will betray his nearest 
 and dearest friend ; he will pamper his own selfish- 
 ness at the expense of justice, and affection, and 
 mercy ; but still some lenient phraseology steps in, 
 not to close his own eyes or those of the world to 
 the real character of his proceedings, but merely, 
 by a kmd of conventional decorum, to retain those 
 vices within the circle of society which the cor-
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil ffood, and good evil. 287 
 
 ruption of mankind is unwilling to discard. Folly 
 and inconsistency of this kind is, indeed, so deeply 
 rooted in human nature, that, precisely as the world 
 now flatters and deceives itself in the midst of its 
 iniquity, so probably it will continue doing to the 
 latest day of its existence. No carnal mind will 
 ever willingly part with its favourite vices so long 
 as it can find a plausible excuse for retaining them : 
 and so long as palliatory expressions are easily in- 
 vented, and as easily accepted, a plausible excuse 
 never can be wanting. 
 
 All of us know the eager and favourable recep- 
 tion those writers have invariably met with who 
 have come forward for the avowed purpose of con- 
 founding the distinctions of vice and virtue, pro- 
 vided -only they have displayed in their composi- 
 tions that playfulness and gracefulness of talent, 
 without which, in a sensual and polite age, even 
 corruption itself cannot succeed. It is quite asto- 
 nishing to remark how little of sound argument, 
 what gross mis-statements of facts, what falsity of 
 reference, what misapplied ridicule, will pass under 
 the name of philosophy, even amongst the acute 
 and learned, provided only they come to flatter the 
 profligacy and irreligion of mankind. It is in vain 
 that such flimsy theories are overthrown again and 
 again ; they are as repeatedly and perseveringly set 
 up afresh, not because they convey solid conviction 
 to their admirers, but because they afford a kind of 
 indolent tranquillity to minds unwilling to enquire, 
 and who would gladly persuade themselves that
 
 288 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 their favourite sins are not so fatally destructive 
 as the uncompromising and searching severity of 
 revelation would have them believe. 
 
 Against such hardihood of mature profligacy as 
 I am now describing, any exhortation from this 
 place would, I hope and believe, be superfluous. 
 Still, however, human nature is the same in all its 
 stages, if not in degree, at least in essential cha- 
 racteristics. Here, accordingly, as elsewhere, false 
 ingenuity will occasionally be at work to display 
 its own acuteness in sophisticating upon the awful 
 subjects of moral obligation and religious belief; 
 here, as elsewhere, ridicule and successful satire, 
 not vented perhaps with any deliberate profligacy 
 of intention, but not, therefore, the less fearfully 
 mischievous in its effects, will be adding one vast 
 difficulty the more to the task of conscientious re- 
 straint ; here, as elsewhere, the commencing pro- 
 fligate will be recommending his own vices by 
 identifying them with high and generous feelings, 
 with which they have no real connection ; and here, 
 accordingly, as in the world at large, the timid, the 
 bashful, and the easy tempered, will be made ashamed 
 of that singleness of character to which a real friend 
 would entreat them to cling as the great security of 
 their principles and their religion. 
 
 The mischief which I am now lamenting, I have 
 already stated to be not unfrequently the result, as 
 I conceive, rather of momentary folly and thought- 
 lessness than of any determined profligacy of in- 
 tention. It is, accordingly, with the conviction that
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 289 
 
 such must, at least, be sometimes the case, and with 
 the accompanying hope, in consequence, that upon 
 persons, to whom these remarks may apply, the 
 remonstrance may not be thrown away, that I have 
 made the foregoing observations. To such, there- 
 fore, if present, let me now more directly address 
 myself. 
 
 Are there any here who, from motives of a mis- 
 taken liberality, or from a wish to stand well with 
 that society in which they are thrown, are in the 
 habit of justifying to themselves and others those 
 violations of God's law which revelation so inexor- 
 ably denounces ? let them recollect, that in so 
 doing they are but purchasing a spurious and short- 
 lived popularity at the risk of their own souls, and 
 of those of others ; and that, in denying the justice 
 of the declarations of Scripture, they are, what is 
 possibly the remotest thing from their intention, by 
 an obvious implication denying the authenticity of 
 those Scriptures themselves. To such weak and 
 irresolute persons, I would recommend that they 
 would lay to their consciences those fearful words 
 of our blessed Saviour himself ; " Whosoever shall 
 be ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous 
 and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of 
 man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of 
 his Father with the holy angels : " and -then ask 
 themselves, whether this denunciation is not literally 
 applicable to those who thus prefer the approbation 
 of a wayward world to the duty of religious obe- 
 dience ? Are there any here, who, aiming at intel- 
 
 VOL. i. u
 
 290 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP K. 
 
 lectual distinction, with that childish mistake so 
 common to young minds, have taught themselves 
 to consider all established wisdom, however sacred, 
 as trivial and obsolete, for no better reason than 
 because it is established, and who, consequently, 
 prefer paradox to truth, and brilliance of effect to 
 the quiet tenour of sober reason ? let such be 
 aware, that of all modes of glittering for a moment 
 in the eyes of the thoughtless the one in question 
 is the very easiest, as it is the most contemptible. 
 He who chooses to flatter the vices of his com- 
 panions will always find willing hearers : he who 
 wishes to perplex the cause of sound and whole- 
 some morality may always find something in ini- 
 quity itself sufficiently plausible to attract the ad- 
 miration of the worldly and unconverted heart : he 
 who chooses to start objections against revelation 
 may do so in a thousand different ways ; but not 
 more easily than the sincere and humble believer 
 himself could do, were he disposed rather to cavil 
 at what he does not yet comprehend than to 
 adopt with gratitude those hallowed truths of which 
 his heart feels the reality, even where his under- 
 standing is inadequate to their explanation. Let 
 them be assured, that it is a false and inferior 
 talent only which prefers this tortuous and per- 
 verted course. A person of a really strong mind 
 sees through the showy fallacies which mislead the 
 ignorant in questions of morals, making them too 
 often prefer the worse to the better cause, and by 
 sober and patient investigation points them out for
 
 SHUTTLEWORTIJ.] evil good, and goo d evil. 291 
 
 the benefit of others : he is aware that difficulties 
 of every possible description attach to all that we 
 see, and think, and do ; and he attributes the blame, 
 if blame it can be called, to the proper quarter, not 
 to the sublime mysteries of religion, but to the in- 
 firmity of man's limited understanding : recollecting 
 that if to start an unanswerable objection against 
 any circumstance of the creation be to refute its 
 possibility, objections of this description lie before 
 and around us in every direction, and in any quan- 
 tity we please ; and that we have, accordingly, only 
 to avail ourselves of them with that partiality of 
 selection which every person of the commonest 
 ingenuity knows how to adopt, and in so doing may 
 reject at once the belief of a God, of an universe, 
 and even of our own existence itself. 
 
 One other argument let me use to those whom 
 I am now more particularly addressing. That habit 
 of trifling with serious subjects which I so anxiously 
 deprecate may probably appear to the thoughtless 
 and easy temper of youth merely as one of the 
 incidental follies of that period of life which will 
 pass off and correct itself upon the approach of ma- 
 turer years and a more subdued judgment. True 
 it is, that, where the main principles are good, such, 
 we may hope, will possibly be the case. But is it 
 after all a trifling evil, that, when that maturer 
 judgment shall come, it will probably have cause to 
 lament over mischief, which, perhaps, the bitterest 
 repentance may be unable to cancel? Can any 
 thing be more acutely distressing to a person of a 
 u 2
 
 292 Woe unto them tJiat call [PHILIP N. 
 
 feeling mind than the recollection, that, though he 
 himself may have rejected the follies and sophistries 
 of youth, there are others, perhaps, irrevocably im- 
 mersed in the wickedness of a vicious world, to 
 whose passions his own suggestions afforded the 
 first aliment ; whose consciences he was the first to 
 lull to a false security ; the simplicity of whose 
 understandings he was the first to perplex ? Our 
 own sins may, if sincerely repented of, by the grace 
 of a merciful God, become as though they had 
 never been ; but our compunction reaches not the 
 faults of those early friends and companions whom 
 our wayward and misdirected imaginations may 
 have served originally to mislead. And thus, by a 
 fearful re-action, a delicate and a wounded con- 
 science may have justly to reproach itself in mature 
 age, for the communication of a moral contagion, 
 which all its subsequent endeavours may be inef- 
 fectual to check. 
 
 Extensive, however, as is the mischief resulting 
 from the too prevalent habit of diminishing our ab- 
 horrence of sin by attaching to it palliating and 
 delusive appellations, let us recollect that this is 
 still only half of the folly denounced in. my text, 
 which enjoins us not only to abstain from " calling 
 evil good," but also to be on our guard lest we " call 
 good evil ; " a tendency of our corrupt nature less 
 venial perhaps, because proceeding less from mere 
 thoughtlessness, and more from maliciousness of 
 purpose, than the former. He that justifieth the 
 wicked," says the book of Proverbs, " and he that
 
 SHUTTLEWORTII/J evil good, and good evil. 293 
 
 condemneth the just, even they both are an abo- 
 mination to the Lord." Having, however, already 
 detained you so long, I shall limit the ensuing ob- 
 servations on this latter propensity to as small a 
 compass as possible. 
 
 It is a melancholy proof of the natural evil dis- 
 position of man's heart, that our first impulse in the 
 application of even the best faculties of our nature 
 is often rather to their abuse than to their use. It 
 is thus with regard to those intellectual perceptions 
 which Providence has given us for discriminating 
 between right and wrong, and the regulation of our 
 consciences. Let us but examine the thoughts of 
 our own breasts with impartiality, and we shall find 
 but too much cause for asserting that our reasoning 
 powers are much oftener occupied in justifying our 
 continuance in some favourite sin than in suggesting 
 motives for our extrication. It is by a very obvious 
 double falsification of the fact that we succeed in 
 obtaining this deceitful tranquillity of the conscience. 
 We attempt, in the first place, by palliations and 
 mis-statements to render vice less odious than it 
 really is ; and, secondly, by attributing to them un- 
 worthy and corrupt motives, to render unamiable 
 that goodness in others which we want strength of 
 mind and of principle to imitate. From this latter 
 species of wickedness very few indeed probably are 
 the persons who stand perfectly clear. Which of 
 us, (let us put this searching question rigorously to 
 lurselves,) which of us at some period or other of 
 u 3
 
 291 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 our lives have never felt as a reproach the example 
 of principles better and holier than our own, nor 
 attempted in consequence to restore the equilibrium 
 of our self-respect, not by improving our own prac- 
 tice, but by depreciating and ridiculing that which 
 as Christians it was our duty to admire? Here 
 again the same easy delusion of the misapplication 
 of names lends its ready aid to mislead and flatter 
 our judgment. Affix but the words " enthusiasm," 
 " fanaticism," " austerity," to that sincerity of 
 disposition which is striving to regulate its con- 
 duct by the unbending Christian standard, and 
 we may go on indulging in all the worldliness of 
 our speculations undisturbed by so inconvenient 
 a precedent. But such has ever been, and ever 
 will be, the cry of those who would identify the 
 service of God and mammon, and reconcile sub- 
 mission to the tyranny of the usages of society with 
 their religious duties. 
 
 " This is an hypocritical age," says some popular 
 but profligate writer, and thousands who have not 
 yet thrown off the sense of religious obligation, but 
 for whose powers of moral resistance the enticements 
 of dissipation are too strong, join eagerly in the cry. 
 It is true indeed that few vices are more thoroughly 
 detestable than hypocrisy when really such ; and 
 few follies more pernicious to the morals and ci- 
 vilisation of the world than fanaticism properly so 
 called. But we should recollect, that it is at 
 the peril of our own souls that we affix these de- 
 nominations upon the conduct of those of whose
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 295 
 
 secret motives we are unable to judge. Piety may 
 be, and often is, injudicious as to the appearances of 
 conventional society ; it may, and too frequently 
 does, want that taste, and delicacy, and expansion 
 of thought, which mark a cultivated and an ac- 
 complished mind : but it may be real piety still ; 
 and piety, the valuable part of which those who 
 look down upon it with contempt might be proud 
 to imitate, and the profoundest philosopher to re- 
 spect. 
 
 Enough difficulty, we know from our own expe- 
 rience, lies in the way of every man's spiritual im- 
 provement, without our throwing in his path the 
 additional obstacles of ridicule, and contempt, and 
 odium, which few minds, even the most religious, 
 have sufficient fortitude to despise. And what 
 must be our tremendous responsibility, if, in addition 
 to our own personal imperfections, we are to be en- 
 cumbered with the heavy guilt of thus discouraging 
 others in their attempt to enter the narrow gate of 
 life ! " He casteth out devils through Beelzebub " 
 was the malicious interpretation affixed to our 
 blessed Saviour's miracles by the proud and envious 
 Pharisees ; and it is worthy of remark, that it was 
 on that occasion that he made use of the most 
 dreadful denunciation against the hardness of the 
 human heart to be found in the whole compass of 
 Scripture. I do not say that the sinful weakness 
 which I am now describing is equal in atrocity to 
 that which thus called forth the severity of our 
 Redeemer's indignation ; but it is enough to make 
 u 4-
 
 296 Woe unto them tliat call [PHILIP N. 
 
 us tremble at the recollection of the injustice of our 
 own judgments respecting others, that the sin now 
 described is the same in character, however inferior 
 in the degree of guilt, with the one so awfully con- 
 demned on that occasion. Even in that most signal 
 consummation of human wickedness, the crucifixion 
 of the Lord of life, a similar hypocrisy was the thin 
 veil which those same Pharisees attempted to draw 
 over the real malice and corruption of their hearts ; 
 and whilst their cry was, " Crucify him, crucify 
 him," their ostensible plea was the tranquillity of 
 mankind, the honour of the Almighty, and the pre- 
 servation of the integrity of the Mosaic institutions : 
 " He stirreth up the people." " He speaketh blas- 
 phemy." " It is expedient that one man should 
 die for the people, and that the whole nation perish 
 not." And such is at this moment the character of 
 mankind when they withdraw themselves from be- 
 neath the sheltering influence of true religion, and 
 surrender themselves to the fascinations of pro- 
 fligacy, and to the selfishness, and hardness of heart, 
 and moral blindness, which follow in its train. 
 
 Let us not flatter ourselves by a comparison of 
 former times and former enormities with the present 
 state of manners, more favourable to the world's 
 recent and probable future improvement than the 
 reality of the case will justify. There still is, and 
 ever will remain, much of the leaven of wickedness 
 in our nature, of which the conduct of the Jewish 
 hierarchy affords but too faithful a portrait, and 
 which, under a repetition of the same circumstances,
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil ffood, and good evil. 297 
 
 would, we may rest assured, lead to the same por- 
 tentous conclusion. So long as the higher spiritual 
 attainments of our neighbours shall convey a silent 
 reproach to the selfishness of our own hearts, and 
 refute that only and degrading excuse for our in- 
 dolence and sensuality which we are all too willing 
 to plead in the supposed total imbecility of our 
 nature, so long will a certain degree of jealousy and 
 misrepresentation attend the fervent Christian in 
 his progress from strength to strength. Be it then 
 our earnest, our most anxious endeavour, to crush 
 within our hearts, to tread down, to extirpate, every 
 the slightest recurrence of this incessantly reviving 
 feeling. Let us subdue it as we ought to do, and 
 as we can only effectually hope to do it, by pros- 
 trating ourselves in true Christian humility before 
 our Maker, and entreating him that the deadliness 
 of this corruption (for which of us stands perfectly 
 free from it ?) may not be laid to our charge. 
 
 In the next place, let us inculcate again and again 
 upon our recollection, that our business in this world 
 is not so much to speculate upon the conduct of our 
 neighbours, to appreciate their motives, and to pro- 
 nounce judgment upon their good or evil conduct, 
 as to regulate the purity of our own practice, and to 
 recommend our own consciences to the all-scruti- 
 nising eye of God. Our heavenly Father has in his 
 mercy impressed upon the moral feelings of every 
 one of us, and more amply developed in the page of 
 revelation, a distinct perception of right and wrong, 
 according to which it is our first duty to model and
 
 298 Woe unto them that call [PHILIP N. 
 
 to measure every circumstance of our actions. And 
 thus instructed, we must be blind indeed if we do 
 not find the commencement of the path of life easy 
 to discover, however difficult may be the attainment 
 of that perseverance which is necessary for pursuing 
 it with effect. But if, instead of fixing our attention 
 upon this the great purpose of our existence, we 
 begin to hunger after the seductions of this world, 
 to parley with our corrupt inclinations, to tamper 
 with the first principles of morals, and to persuade 
 ourselves that sin is not so very sinful, or that true 
 goodness is unattainable by man, it is evident that, 
 whilst such are our feelings, our noblest aspirations 
 must become debased, and our best energies en- 
 feebled. We may it is true continue to encourage 
 ourselves with the flattering delusion that all is well 
 with us ; and that mixed motives, a debased stan- 
 dard of morals, and relaxed exertions, are sufficient 
 for our purpose : we may turn the whole force of 
 our understandings to palliate vice, till we are half 
 convinced by our own fallacies ; and deny the ex- 
 istence of better principles, because they may be ill 
 adapted to the purposes of self-indulgence ; but still, 
 " He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh us to 
 scorn : " the purity of the divine nature will not- 
 withstanding remain the same ; the works of holi- 
 ness and purity will not the less inexorably at the 
 great day of our final account be required of us ; 
 nor the. uncompromising language of Scripture ac- 
 quire a laxer and more accommodating interpret- 
 ation in condescension to the degradation of our
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] evil good, and good evil. 299 
 
 views. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and 
 let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; 
 and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight 
 of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these 
 things God will bring thee into judgment."
 
 300 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 CHRIST'S YOKE EASY, AND BURDEN 
 LIGHT. 
 
 MATTHEW, xi. 30. 
 
 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. 
 
 THAT moral and virtuous habits are their own 
 reward even in this life, was, we know, frequently 
 attempted to be demonstrated by those enlightened 
 heathens of antiquity, who, not possessing the re- 
 velation of a future state of reward and punishment, 
 were still anxious to vindicate the cause of virtue, 
 and to point out its intrinsic superiority over vice 
 in its power of acquiring substantial happiness. The 
 objection to this theory unfortunately was, that it 
 did not in all respects hold good. The life which 
 is best spent will, it is true, even in this world, be 
 also in all probability the happiest : but still there 
 are cases, we know, in which the contrary principle 
 seems to prevail ; and in which that protection 
 which Providence might be expected to afford to 
 the just and pious appears for a moment to be 
 withdrawn. 
 
 To this objection indeed Christianity supplies a 
 most unexceptionable answer; not only by the revela- 
 tion of a future state of retribution which it affords, 
 but also by that most important doctrine which it so
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 301 
 
 repeatedly inculcates ; namely, that as our mortal 
 condition is a state of trial, it necessarily presupposes 
 a certain degree of doubt and suffering, from which, 
 as intended for their future benefit, it cannot be 
 expected, nor perhaps even wished, that the good 
 should be entirely exempt. Admitting, "however, to 
 the full this primary doctrine of our holy religion, 
 that the complete reward of the righteous is not to 
 be looked for in this life ; still we must, on the other 
 hand, allow, that there is, notwithstanding, much 
 valuable truth in the opinion of those enlightened 
 heathens whom I have just mentioned, namely, that, 
 were another world out of the question, habits of 
 morality and piety would still be the undoubted 
 interest of every rational being. 
 
 To the Christian, it is true that arguments derived 
 from the merely temporal advantages of a well 
 regulated life may appear to possess little weight ; 
 and when balanced against our spiritual interests 
 they deserve little : but still, on the other hand, 
 when we recollect that our eternal enemy is strong 
 chiefly from the false and meretricious colouring 
 which he throws over vice, and by which he deludes 
 the imagination of the young and inexperienced, 
 overpowering by the weakness of the flesh the will- 
 ingness of the spirit ; it cannot surely be amiss to 
 turn the weapons of his own warfare against himself, 
 and to show that, even amid all the disadvantages 
 of this imperfect state of existence, our chance of 
 whatever happiness the present constitution of our 
 nature is capable of, is in exact proportion as we are
 
 302 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 scrupulously zealous and persevering in the perform- 
 ance of our religious and social duties. 
 
 Such, then, is the conclusion to which, in this 
 discourse, I hope to arrive : and though I am aware, 
 that, in the progress of it, it may be necessary to 
 make many trite and common-place observations, 
 still, let it be remembered, on the other hand, that 
 the office of the preacher is not so much to instruct 
 as to remind ; and that, although there must be 
 many in this place to whom the profoundest ques- 
 tions of learned theology are familiar, there are still 
 many more who are at that critical moment of their 
 lives, when every additional support we can throw 
 in for the aid of religion, every argument, every ex- 
 postulation, every appeal, no less to the heart and 
 the feelings than to the understanding, are wanting, if 
 we would detect the sophistry of the passions, and 
 strip vice of those delusive attractions by which it 
 overcomes the resistance, and stifles the conscience 
 of the unwary. 
 
 It is to such, then, to those who, standing as yet 
 on the threshold of active life, may be for a moment 
 hesitating between good and evil, between the road 
 which leads to holiness, and that whose termination 
 is destruction, to such I would now more particu- 
 larly address myself; most earnestly exhorting them, 
 ere they begin to parley with their souls' enemy, and 
 from mistaken notions respecting the comparative 
 pleasures of a life of vice, or one of virtue, suffer 
 themselves step by step to deviate into sin, and 
 to do as others have done, that they will at least
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burdeti light. 303 
 
 fairly weigh, if not the hopes of another life, at least 
 the enjoyments of this : and that they will recollect, 
 that if he, " who, gaining the whole world, loses his 
 own soul," makes a ruinous and fatal bargain ; still 
 more ruinous and fatal must it be, if, in exchange for 
 his eternal hopes, he reaps even in this life only 
 shame, agony, and disappointment. 
 
 This then is the proposition which I would ad- 
 vance ; namely, that, even were the hopes and fears 
 of eternity out of the question, we should find our 
 best chance of temporal happiness in the practice of 
 those habits and duties which Christianity enjoins. 
 The hasty impressions of the young and confident 
 will, I am perfectly aware, suggest a contrary lesson. 
 To the highly excited and buoyant spirits of youth 
 there is an attraction in the very prohibitions which 
 they hear against vice : a vague and confused notion 
 that there is a freedom, a warmth, not to say a ge- 
 nerosity, of feeling in a course of profligacy, which 
 more than compensates for its aberrations. On the 
 other hand, they are apt to see, or to fancy that they 
 see, something repulsive in the habits of a moral and 
 well-disciplined life, which, however .well it may be 
 adapted for those whose passions have become 
 feebler, and whose judgments, sobered by the chas- 
 tening hand of time, can never, as they imagine, sit 
 suitably nor gracefully upon themselves. 
 
 To such shallow and delusive sophistry I would 
 only reply, "Debate the matter fairly: discuss it 
 not with petulance and sarcasm, which on such an 
 occasion must necessarily be out of place, but with
 
 304- Ckrisfs Yoke easy, [PHILIP K. 
 
 that impartiality and solemnity of feeling which the 
 most important of all important questions so ob- 
 viously requires ; ask yourselves, what, after all, your 
 notions of pleasure are ; what are the enjoyments 
 which in your opinions so thickly strew the ways of 
 vice, and are so incompatible with virtue and reli- 
 gion ; consult, if not the revealed word of God, at 
 least the practical book of the world ; mark there 
 the various allotments to which opposite descriptions 
 of character so uniformly lead, and make your 
 election accordingly." We smile at the ignorance 
 of the savage who cuts down the tree in order to 
 reach its fruits ; but the fact is that a blunder of 
 this description is made by every person who is over 
 eager and impatient in the pursuit of pleasure. To 
 such the present moment is as every thing, and the 
 future as nothing : he borrows therefore from the fu- 
 ture at a most usurious and ruinous interest ; and the 
 consequence is, that he finds the tone of his best 
 feelings impaired, his self-respect diminished, his 
 health of mind and body destroyed, and life reduced 
 to its very dregs, at a time when, humanly speaking, 
 the greater portion of its comforts should be still 
 before him. 
 
 From the world's beginning to the present mo- 
 ment, man's speculations have been employed in the 
 attempt to find out a shorter road to happiness, as 
 well as a shorter road to knowledge, than the hum- 
 ble constitution of our nature will allow. God has 
 impressed upon the human mind an apprehension 
 and desire of enjoyment far exceeding any thing
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 305 
 
 which the world is competent to gratify : and for a 
 wise and obvious reason ; namely, because eternity, 
 and not the contracted sphere of temporal objects, 
 is intended to be our final destination. But the 
 very excess and immensity of that apprehension is 
 a stumbling-block in the way of the thoughtless and 
 the sensual. Perceiving in those temperate and 
 subdued pleasures which are compatible with a well- 
 regulated course of life nothing which at all answers 
 to the highly excited expectations which they are 
 anxious to realise, they make their selection in that 
 total absence of moral restraint and indefinite vague- 
 ness of object which accompany a licentious career. 
 And the necessary result is, as might have been 
 foreseen, vexation, disappointment, and remorse. 
 Look at the supposed pleasures of the vicious, and 
 we behold a scene of riotous and joyless delirium, 
 with which every pure and high-minded feeling re- 
 fuses to participate : look again ; let but a few short 
 years, perhaps only months or days, intervene : all 
 is stillness and oblivion ; it is passed away and is 
 gone, and the place thereof knoweth it no more. 
 
 It requires indeed but a very few years' experience 
 of what passes in the busy scene of the world, to 
 convince us how very gross is the miscalculation 
 which leads so large a portion of mankind to take 
 their chance of happiness in those pursuits which 
 reason, conscience, and religion disapprove : how 
 wretched for the most part a life of libertinism is 
 whilst it lasts, and how very soon it is gathered to that 
 place, where, so far as this world is concerned, all 1 
 
 VOL. r. x
 
 306 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 things are forgotten, though an indelible record still 
 remains for the judgment to come. Unfortunately, 
 however, the young do not possess the experience 
 requisite to produce this conviction ; and, when op- 
 posed to the delusion of the passions, mere argument 
 has confessedly little weight. When the imagin- 
 ation has once dressed up vice in attractive colours, 
 however gaudy and ill-suited to the real circum- 
 stances of our nature, there is always an unwilling- 
 ness to enquire too closely ever some lurking 
 subterfuge of the mind, to justify to itself that 
 peculiar deviation from rectitude on which it has set 
 its wishes ; some half-formed calculation upon our 
 own fortune, that we at least may venture, without 
 material danger or serious contamination, to trespass 
 upon those slippery paths which have led to the ruin 
 of thousands. 
 
 But if the young mind is thus careless in weighing 
 its own eternal and temporal interests, it is therefore 
 most strongly the duty of the Christian moralist to 
 force upon its attention that which it is unwilling to 
 do for itself: if the sophistry of appetite be such as 
 to perplex the understanding, and to make the worse 
 appear the better cause, it is for him, when the 
 judgment is cool and the head is clear, to state the 
 matter fairly, and to point out the grossness of the 
 fallacy. Here then let me put the question, " What 
 is it which induces the youthful mind, at a moment 
 when its moral perceptions are, generally speaking, 
 more delicate than they will probably be after an 
 increased intercourse with the world, to step deli-
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 307 
 
 berately into that vice which the heart disapproves, 
 into that contamination which is ' the way to hell, 
 going down to the chambers of death ?' " The 
 answer will probably be, " that it is because such a 
 step appears to be productive of at least immediate 
 happiness." True : but supposing the case to be that 
 such indulgence is found to be perfectly incompat- 
 ible with other still more important enjoyment, (and 
 here I wish to be considered as speaking of the good 
 things of this world only,) let me again ask, whether, 
 admitting that the acquisition of the smaller neces- 
 sarily implies the forfeiture of the greater, we 
 should wish to purchase it at that price ? Because 
 a thing may for the moment appear to be desirable, 
 is it wise to give for it more than it may be worth ? 
 Would the sensualist himself recommend such im- 
 providence ? Most assuredly he would not, with 
 regard to what are generally considered as the things 
 of this world. Why then,in questions of morals and 
 religion, if the sacrifice of immediate happiness, 
 which we make for the sake of some vicious in- 
 dulgence, be greater than that resulting from the 
 indulgence so procured, are we to make our calcu- 
 lations by a different rule ? 
 
 Now, that the waste of temporal happiness in- 
 curred by a wicked and dissolute life is far greater 
 than the utmost enjoyment of the vicious can pos- 
 sibly replace, will be immediately evident to those 
 who will take the trouble to calculate in what 
 human happiness consists. The word happiness is 
 not a vague and indefinite term, to which we can 
 x 2
 
 308 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 attach no specific meaning. It must be something 
 which accords with our bodily and moral consti- 
 tution, or it is nothing. All beyond is the mere 
 exaggerated colouring of a fantastic imagination, 
 without base or substance. Now the necessary 
 constituents of earthly happiness, or, if we will, 
 that combination of circumstances, the partial or 
 total absence of which must render our present 
 existence partially or totally miserable, may, I con- 
 ceive, without fear of contradiction, be compre- 
 hended under the few following heads: In the 
 first place, " the internal peace and approbation of 
 our own breasts ; secondly, the external approba- 
 tion of the world ; thirdly, health of body, under 
 which head are included those sensations which 
 are denominated ' pleasure;' fourthly, competence 
 of the means of life ; fifthly, the esteem of our 
 friends and acquaintance, together with the cha- 
 rities and affections of domestic life ; and, finally, 
 the getting rid of the fears of death." Admitting 
 this enumeration to be complete (and I really can- 
 not see what we would wish to add to the list), 
 the only question before us will be, whether these 
 several requisites are more attainable by a life of 
 moral discipline and piety, or by what has been 
 more commonly, though less accurately, denomin- 
 ated a life of pleasure. Examine them impartially 
 one by one, and we cannot, I think, doubt to which 
 side the scale will incline. Taking them then in 
 the order in which they have been enumerated, let 
 us in the first place consider that purest and most
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 309 
 
 necessary constituent of human happiness, the in- 
 ternal peace and approbation of our own breasts. 
 
 Now, that a man cannot be said to be completely 
 happy, according to this world's happiness, who has 
 lost his own self-respect, is a truth too obvious to 
 require a comment. It were a childish question to 
 ask, whether we would rather approve or disapprove 
 of our own conduct. Yet, so long as we retain that 
 moral consciousness of right and wrong, which 
 Providence has given us, we must necessarily do 
 the one or the other. Let us not hope that we 
 shall be able to cull the apparent good from sin, 
 and to avoid the accompanying evil. If we will 
 deviate into conduct which the conscience disap- 
 proves, we may be certain that remorse will come 
 in her turn : or, at all events, woe indeed unto us 
 if she come not. But a state of moral self-reproach 
 is a state of cowardly disquietude and degradation. 
 Vice is naturally timid, solitary, and suspicious : to 
 it, every indifferent expression in the intercourse of 
 society is pregnant with allusion and mystery ; 
 every glance appears contemptuous ; every incident 
 full of peril. The glow of an approving conscience, 
 on the other hand, is a manly, a generous, an ex- 
 hilarating sensation. It is not indeed at the best a 
 consciousness of actual merit ; for what Christian 
 can look into his own breast, recollecting all that he 
 is pledged to do, and the little he has done, but 
 with feelings of humiliation and abasement ? Still, 
 however, it is in vain to deny the fact, that Provi- 
 dence has in its mercy attached to the imperfect 
 \ 3
 
 310 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 service of the humbly and sincerely pious, a peace 
 and cheerfulness of mind far more valuable as a 
 means of happiness than all that falls within the 
 ability of wealth or power to procure. And shall 
 we doubt which of these two opposite sensations we 
 ought to prefer ? Is it nothing to throw into the 
 opposite scale against the attractions of dissipation, 
 that we are, by a course of vicious habits, volun- 
 tarily putting ourselves into circumstances which 
 must either entirely preclude reflection, or to which 
 reflection is agony ? an agony from which, if we do 
 not contrive to escape by abandoning the evil of 
 our ways, we can only do so, by superinducing that 
 deliberate and wilful absence of self-respect and 
 self-approbation, that callousness and obduracy of 
 mind, which mark, if not the utmost acuteness of 
 actual misery, at least the lowest state of moral 
 and intellectual degradation of which our nature is 
 capable. 
 
 But if a vicious course of life be incompatible 
 with that first constituent of earthly happiness, the 
 internal approbation of our own breasts, it is no less 
 so with what I have considered as the next in order 
 and in value, namely, the external approbation of 
 the world. 
 
 This, again, is a truth so obvious as to require 
 little demonstration. Vicious as the individual 
 practice of mankind undoubtedly is, we may still 
 rest assured, that the general conclusions of so- 
 ciety with regard to others are for the most part 
 correct; and that the esteem which it allots to
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 311 
 
 them is duly apportioned to their actual moral 
 deserts. Self-love may blind us to our own defects, 
 but it can only serve to render us more quick- 
 sighted in detecting the failings of our neighbours. 
 Many, therefore, as are the supposed advantages 
 which our imagination may attach to an abandoned 
 life, it can never carry the illusion so far as to hope that 
 the esteem of our fellow-creatures will be amongst 
 the number. But it may be said that, after all, we 
 may do without that esteem ; and that, provided 
 we can enjoy the pleasures of vice, we may set at 
 defiance the taunts, and contempt, and pity of the 
 witnesses of our conduct. But to argue thus, were 
 to overlook one of the strongest propensities of our 
 nature. The dependence of our happiness upon 
 the esteem of society is far more complete than 
 the careless observer may be inclined to imagine. 
 We talk of the love of power ; of the love of wealth ; 
 of the love of knowledge : but the fact is, that 
 nearly the whole of these passions may be resolved 
 into the love of public approbation. Take away 
 from them the charm they possess over the ad- 
 miration of mankind, the good will, the applause, 
 the envy, they excite, and we reduce, at once, the 
 greatest earthly stimulus of human industry; all 
 that gives birth to the speculations of commerce, 
 or rouses the energy of nations, to the mere grati- 
 fication of a few natural wants, the assuaging of our 
 hunger, and the protection of our persons. Even 
 the sensualist himself, the slave of that public opi- 
 nion which he professes to disregard, wishes to be 
 x 4,
 
 312 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 envied for his own superior enjoyment ; and it is, 
 perhaps, this very perverted ambition, this desire 
 to be thought more happy than the rest of the 
 world, which gives to vice its greatest portion of 
 attraction. But he, and all who are sacrificing their 
 souls' health at the shrine of popular admiration, 
 would do well to consider that there is a surer and 
 a shorter road to the good opinion of mankind than 
 ambition, or avarice, or licentiousness, can hope to 
 point out. The display which attaches to mere 
 worldly splendour and success may fail of its object, 
 because the admiration so excited attaches not to 
 the possessor but to the thing possessed ; whilst 
 that which accompanies a well-spent life, on the 
 contrary, is directed to the person, and is therefore 
 secure. The worldly man seeks after it as the 
 greatest good which life affords, yet loses it, be- 
 cause he has taken the wrong direction in its pur- 
 suit: the good man is intent only on higher things, 
 and comparatively careless about what the world 
 may deem of his conduct ; but to him the esteem 
 of mankind, for the most part, comes unsought ; an 
 accession of happiness which he best can afford to 
 do without, and which never entered into his cal- 
 culation, yet which the wisdom of Providence has 
 attached to him alone as a permanent possession. 
 
 The next necessary constituent which I have 
 stated as forming part of our notions of temporal 
 happiness is bodily health. And here again there 
 can be no doubt to which of the two, to the vir- 
 $uous or to the vicious, this great blessing is more
 
 SHUTTLEWORTII.] and Burden light. 313 
 
 commonly allotted. A good man, it is true, may 
 labour under all the diseases of an originally infirm 
 constitution ; and from these occasional, and, where 
 they occur, truly severe, visitations, to which the 
 best men are exposed in this world, we derive one 
 of our strongest and surest natural arguments for a 
 more perfect future state. Still, however, those 
 inevitable accidents of this description which befall 
 the good, attach equally to the wicked; whilst in 
 that wholesome regimen of life which invigorates 
 the understanding, and corrects disease, which 
 heightens harmless pleasure where it exists, and 
 even affords our capacity for its enjoyment, sound 
 morals and sober discipline have an exclusive ad- 
 vantage. Many a frail temperament of body has 
 been rendered sound and athletic by preserving 
 regularity and restraint: but who, on the other 
 hand, shall count the myriads of originally strong 
 constitutions which intemperance and riot are daily 
 sweeping into an untimely grave ? 
 
 Is however worldly prosperity, which comes next 
 in our enumeration, allotted by the same rule ; or 
 has the worldly man on this point an advantage, as 
 some have hastily imagined, over those whose con- 
 duct is regulated by the unbending rules of piety 
 and good morals? What on this occasion is the 
 language of the Psalmist? I have been young, 
 and now am old, yet never saw I the righteous man 
 forsaken, nor his seed begging their bread." And 
 the wisdom of this observation is borne out by the 
 daily experience of life. Poverty, indeed, no less
 
 314 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 than disease, may be the accidental lot of the best 
 men ; but no one can doubt that the natural tend- 
 ency of well-regulated and pious habits is to escape 
 them both. " Length of days," says the inspired 
 writer, when speaking of that wisdom which is from 
 above, " is at her right hand ; and at her left, 
 riches and honour." " He who makes haste to be 
 rich," says the royal prophet, " is seldom innocent ;" 
 and we may venture to add to the observation, that 
 he also seldom attains to his object. Vice is almost 
 always indolent and desultory in its undertakings : 
 more apt to calculate upon lucky accidents and occa- 
 sional success than upon those habits of persevering 
 and sober industry which lead to honourable and 
 mutual confidence, and through mutual confidence 
 to permanent and substantial prosperity. A person 
 whose profligate career in the course of the last 
 century has procured for him a melancholy cele- 
 brity is said to have observed, that although he 
 was indifferent to the possession of a good name 
 for its own sake, yet he would gladly have pur- 
 chased it at a higher price for the sake of the 
 facility which it would afford him in the acquisition 
 of wealth. In his professed contempt for the mere 
 good opinion of others his assertion was unworthy 
 of credit, as it is probable that the human being 
 never existed who was totally careless of his repu- 
 tation in society : but in acknowledging the value of 
 a good name as a means of worldly success he was 
 in reality assenting to the most important truth, 
 that the moral feelings of mankind are perfectly
 
 SHUTTLEVVORTH.] and Burden light. 315 
 
 decided on the great questions of vice and virtue ; 
 and that, if we would gain their complete con- 
 fidence, we must at least have previously shown by 
 our conduct that that confidence would not be mis- 
 placed. 
 
 To the pleasures indeed arising from warm at- 
 tachments and zealous friendship, which come next 
 in our enumeration of the constituents of worldly 
 felicity, the licentious man of pleasure, it must be 
 owned, is in the habit of advancing a superior, if 
 not an exclusive, claim : and that with a degree of 
 confidence and plausibility well calculated to im- 
 pose upon the youthful and inexperienced. There 
 is an apparent openness and cordiality in the care- 
 less hilarity of the dissipated, which, to those who 
 have not yet learned from bitter experience to mis- 
 trust external appearances, contrasts most danger- 
 ously with the seemingly cold, cautious, and reserved 
 habits of the strictly and perseveringly moral. A 
 very little knowledge of mankind will indeed show 
 them how selfish, how hard-hearted, how merciless, 
 in all his dealings with others where enjoyment is 
 the object, is the mere sensualist ; how little to be 
 trusted the apparent good nature resulting from the 
 excitement of momentary indulgence : and, on the 
 contrary, what high-minded and deliberate self- 
 devotion, what cool sacrifice of their own private 
 interest for the benefit of others, may be calculated 
 upon from those inured by early discipline to the 
 habits of moral and religious forbearance. The mis- 
 fortune however is, that such experience frequently
 
 316 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 comes too late, and that the young man has made 
 his first step in life amongst the dissipated, has 
 made his selection of friends, has adopted their pre- 
 judices and language, and done as they have done, 
 solely from a mistaken idea that the generous buoy- 
 ancy of feeling which they profess is more than a 
 compensation for the absence of moral and religious 
 principle. But let him look to the termination, not to 
 the commencement, of such friendships : let him con- 
 sider them not in the excited exhilaration of joyous 
 health, when the mere exuberance of animal spirits 
 may pass amongst the undiscriminating for the 
 overflow of calculating benevolence ; but in those 
 gloomier moments of life, when man, helpless and 
 desponding within himself, naturally looks to his 
 fellow man for consolation ?md aid : let him con- 
 template them in all the peevishness of a shattered 
 constitution ; in the irritation produced by the col- 
 lision of rival interests : in that ruin of mind and 
 body which they have prematurely brought on : let 
 him trace them when labouring under obloquy and 
 adversity: that moment when virtuous friendship 
 draws together the closest, and for which it reserves 
 its highest energies: and let him witness their 
 mutual recriminations ; and he will then at least 
 learn, what a little reflection might have taught him 
 before, that it is not from those whose great ob- 
 ject through life has been the pampering their own 
 appetites ; the very definition of whose ideas of en- 
 joyment is selfishness; " whose god," to use the 
 expression of the apostle, " has been their belly,
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and JBurden light. 317 
 
 whose glory has been in their own shame;" that 
 he can hope for that generous interchange of dis- 
 interested kindness, without which life were a dull 
 and tedious journey, and the most crowded place of 
 public resort a desert. 
 
 The same observation will apply to all our do- 
 mestic relations. Where self-love is the ruling 
 principle (and be it remembered that self-love 
 however disguised is at the root of all immorality), 
 where self-love is predominant, there can be no real 
 affection ; and where the heart is depraved there 
 can be no substantial esteem ; no re-action of that 
 respect and approbation which we all look for. The 
 dissolute father wishes, as every father must, for 
 the respect of his children ; but they soon discover, 
 what he has himself long felt, that vice is not, and 
 cannot be, respectable. He has set them an exam- 
 ple in his own person, which, whether they avoid or 
 follow it, is to him alike a source of wretchedness. 
 If they are well principled, he has to endure the 
 agony of being ashamed in the presence of his 
 own offspring : if they are vicious, he has, provided 
 ne retain one spark of paternal feeling, to undergo 
 /he still severer agony arising from the reflection 
 that his instructions and his example may possibly 
 be leading to infamy and misery them and their 
 posterity, when his bones shall have long mouldered 
 in the grave. 
 
 One other requisite of happiness remains yet to 
 be alluded to, and then the enumeration which I have 
 given will be completed : it is, the power which a
 
 318 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 good life, and a good life only, affords us of getting 
 rid of that great imbitterer of this world's enjoy- 
 ments the fear of death. That our present state 
 of existence, and all that belongs to it, must shortly 
 pass away as though they had never been, is a 
 truth, the transient recollection of which is quite 
 sufficient to appal the sensualist in the midst of his 
 most delirious dream of pleasure. But when we 
 recollect still further, that this is not all ; but that, 
 as we have the most tremendous assurance for be- 
 lieving, after death comes judgment, a judgment 
 upon which must depend our eternal allotment of 
 happiness or misery, it is then that we turn away 
 with undissembled disgust at the follies in which 
 we have indulged, and ask ourselves the thrilling, 
 the agonising question, " What shall we do to be 
 saved?" The answer indeed is an easy one: let us 
 sincerely and patiently do the will of God, and then, 
 though it be our lot to walk through the valley of 
 the shadow of death, we need fear no evil, for God 
 is with us. The prospect must, it is true, be still, 
 even to the best men,one full of awe and solemnity ; 
 but it is an awe unconnected with terror; a so- 
 lemnity perfectly compatible with hope and cheer- 
 fulness. But the remedy of the vicious for these 
 apprehensions is full of desperation. It is either the 
 belief that such things are, yet the refusal to give 
 them a thought ; a condition of mind which fluctu- 
 ates between senseless obduracy, and the agony of 
 casual reflection ; or it is the still more desperate 
 attempt to persuade themselves that such things
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 319 
 
 are not ; and that in the narrow circle of this world 
 is comprised the whole object and end of their 
 being. And what are we to think of the state of 
 mind of those persons to whom the persuasion of 
 their own final mortality (that which is the very 
 worst which can possibly befall the good) can afford 
 their only stay of hope : and who, having once known 
 the value, the dignity, the thrill, of existence, can 
 find their sole refuge from absolute despair in the 
 degrading consolation of eventually becoming like 
 " the beasts that perish :" of literally saying " to 
 corruption, Thou art my father : to the worm, Thou 
 art my mother and my sister ?" 
 
 Here then is our enumeration gone through; and 
 such are their respective chances of the main con- 
 stituents of temporal happiness which God has in 
 his wisdom allotted to the virtuous and the vicious. 
 Should it however be observed, on the other hand, 
 that there are still enjoyments attached to a profli- 
 gate course of life exclusively and properly its own, 
 and which my present enumeration may have over- 
 looked, let the objector at least weigh in the oppo- 
 site scale the hurry and turmoil of spirits attendant 
 upon such pursuits : the waste of intellect ; the de- 
 based tone of moral feeling ; the jaded yet inces- 
 santly craving and unsatisfied appetites irritated by 
 systematic indulgence : and let him contrast these 
 with the equable tenour of mind, the liveliness ol 
 perception, the cheerfulness, the healthy self-pos- 
 session attendant upon a disciplined exercise oS 
 faculties, and he surely cannot hesitate for a
 
 320 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N. 
 
 moment in deciding to which side the balance wiL 
 incline. 
 
 Most miserable then and scanty, after such a par- 
 tition, are the wages allotted to sin: and yet it is 
 for these wages, wretched as they are, yet tricked 
 out with the gaudy colouring of a youthful imagin- 
 ation, that the giddy and inexperienced daily com- 
 promise the tremendous stake of their soul's health. 
 
 Still, however, let us recollect, that the prepon- 
 derance of enjoyment given to a moral life in this 
 world is only a general probability, not an inalien- 
 able certainty. As a proof that such habits accord 
 with the constitution of the universe and the will 
 of its Creator, that preponderance is quite suffi- 
 cient; but, if considered as the sole reward to which 
 the good may aspire, it is manifestly incomplete. 
 That we may not conceive this life to be all in all, 
 our wise Maker has still left the purest virtue and 
 the humblest piety to struggle occasionally with all 
 the accidents of fortune, with poverty, with disease, 
 with neglect, with infamy. But that which is at 
 present only a general preponderance, given to en- 
 courage us during the performance of our task of 
 obedience, will, we are assured, be one day complete 
 and adequate in all its parts. When the miseries 
 and imperfections of this state of trial shall be 
 withdrawn, and that glorious order of things, for 
 which all that we see at present is but a progressive 
 preparation, shall be brought to maturity, can we 
 doubt what will be the moral government of that 
 holy Being who even here has affixed his seal upon
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 321 
 
 the righteous man, and marked him for his own ? 
 Shall he who now looks up to his eternal Bene- 
 factor from the prison of the flesh, resting, even 
 amid doubts and tribulations, upon that rod and 
 staff of comfort which is his stay during his earthly 
 pilgrimage shall he in that great day be spurned 
 as a stranger and an alien ? Shall virtue and piety 
 take root and flourish in the bleak and barren soil 
 of this world, and shall we fear lest it suffer from 
 blight and mildew in the healthful regions of the 
 heavenly paradise ? A life of religion is in other 
 words a life of conformity with God's will, God's 
 government, and his ultimate and wise purposes, 
 and, consequently, befall what will elsewhere, it must 
 always be safe. Where the Creator is with us, the 
 creation over which he presides, and which he 
 disposes to do his pleasure, will not and cannot 
 be against us. What the Roman lyric poet de- 
 scribed as a poetical exaggeration of the security 
 of the good man, is to the Christian a plain 
 and literal truth : " The heavens shall indeed be 
 rolled together like a parched scroll, and the 
 elements shall melt with a fervent heat ;" but the 
 prayer of the humble believer, " Lord, help us, we 
 perish," shall then again as formerly be effectual, 
 and the violence of the storm be lulled at his 
 Master's bidding. 
 
 Till that awful day arrives, the path of our duty 
 is open before us, whilst the thorns by which it is 
 shut in are, blessed be God, chiefly painful to such 
 as would wander from their road. Would men but 
 
 VOL. i. Y
 
 322 Christ's Yoke easy, [PHILIP N 
 
 learn to know in what human enjoyment consists ; 
 would they but recollect that a person is not neces- 
 sarily happy because he is rich or powerful ; that 
 what is called a life of pleasure is for the most part 
 any thing rather than a life of gratification ; and 
 that the laugh of mirth, however it may conceal, 
 cannot prevent, the inward sickness of the heart ; 
 would they, in short, be convinced, that the true 
 constituents of happiness are in every body's power, 
 and that they are a matter rather of internal sens- 
 ation than of external display ; they would then 
 perhaps less frequently make shipwreck of them- 
 selves and of their souls. A correct and impartial 
 view of human life may do much to teach them 
 this important truth, in default of which they may 
 rest assured that it will be forced upon them by an 
 agonising experience ; but their best, their surest, 
 and their wisest instructor will be the holy book of 
 the Christian revelation. " They who would save 
 their lives," says our blessed Saviour, in allusion to 
 the mistaken worldly wisdom of the vicious, " shall 
 lose them ; and they who throw away their lives for 
 his sake and the Gospel's, the same shall find them." 
 And again, " Seek ye first," says he, " the kingdom 
 of heaven and its righteousness, and all these things 
 (that is to say, the good things of this world) shall 
 be added unto you." 
 
 Such, then, is the important conclusion which it 
 has been my object to establish ; in the hope that 
 the reflections it may excite may induce some at 
 least of my hearers, ere they step into the busy
 
 SHUTTLEWORTH.] and Burden light. 323 
 
 scene of life, to calculate the cost at which they 
 must purchase its delusions and vanities. And if, 
 in the course of the argument, I have appeared to 
 dwell more than becomes the office of a Christian 
 minister upon the merely temporal advantages of a 
 well regulated life, let it, as I have already ob- 
 served, be recollected, that, so long as by the misre- 
 presentations of the worldly mind those advantages 
 are made to appear as preponderating in the con- 
 trary direction, it cannot surely be otherwise than 
 serviceable to the cause of true religion to detect 
 the fallacy. As an inducement to the performance 
 of our duty, those advantages, when compared with 
 the glory which shall be revealed hereafter, must, it 
 is true, be of little moment ; but to creatures so 
 weak, so infirm of purpose, as we all are, every in- 
 ducement to a good life, however trifling, has its 
 value and its utility. To attempt to represent 
 morality as the whole of Christianity is indeed as 
 dangerous as it is mistaken; but it is surely not 
 less so to cherish the idea that Christianity may 
 exist whilst detached from morality. It is both 
 one and the other, the devotion of the heart, and- 
 the subjugation of the body, which constitutes the 
 whole duty of man ; the sum and substance of that 
 faith which is one day, we trust, to lead us onward 
 to perfection : and though the mercy after which 
 we all aspire can only, we are assured, be imparted 
 to us through the merits of Christ, yet it is our 
 duty to remember, that our obedience and our good 
 Y 2
 
 324? Christ's Yoke easy. [SHUTTLEWORTH 
 
 works, the disciplining of our passions, and the 
 purification of our thoughts, is a sacrifice and a 
 service, which, if there be any truth in the Gospel 
 dispensation, he has peremptorily required as the 
 proof of our submission, and the condition of our 
 redemption.
 
 CHRISTOPHER BENSON, M.A. 
 
 From a volume of Sermons entitled " On Scripture Difii- 
 culties. Twenty Discourses preached before the University 
 of Cambridge, in the Year 1822, at the Lecture founded by 
 the Rev. John Hulse, M. A." 
 
 V 3
 
 32? 
 
 SCRIPTURE DIFFICULTIES VINDICATED. 
 2 PETER, iii. 16. 
 
 In which are some things hard to be understood, 
 
 THAT in an ancient work composed by various 
 authors, and at various times ; a work written in 
 different and difficult languages, and upon the most 
 different and difficult subjects ; a work comprehend- 
 ing the history of all ages, and of many nations, 
 from the foundation of the world to the present 
 time ; and that not only a history of the ordinary 
 transactions between man and man, but also of the 
 extraordinary dispensations of Almighty God ; that 
 in such a work, when regarded as a mere human 
 composition, we should meet with many " things 
 hard to be understood," I have already shown to be 
 natural, and almost unavoidable. I have also shown, 
 that even if such a work, as inspired, were some- 
 thing more than a mere human composition, still 
 the mere fact of its inspiration would not render it 
 by any means necessary or expedient, that it shoulo. 
 be entirely destitute of those difficulties which, under 
 similar circumstances, would attend upon any ordi- 
 nary production of man. The existence of " things 
 hard to be understood " in the Scriptures, whether 
 Y 4
 
 328 Sci-ipture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 considered as a common work, or as one of the 
 inspired communications of the Creator to his crea- 
 tures, is, therefore, in both cases, clearly defensible. 
 
 But there still remains another point of view in 
 which the Bible may be contemplated, and without 
 the consideration of which, all other arguments 
 which apply to its difficulties would, however satis- 
 factory, as far as inspiration alone is concerned, be 
 deemed partial and inconclusive. The Bible, it will 
 be remembered, professes not only to have been 
 " given by inspiration of God," but to have been 
 inspired by God for the instruction of man ; that is, 
 " to have been written for our learning." * It is 
 under this double character, therefore, that it must 
 ever be viewed. Its difficulties must be shown to 
 be not only consistent with its nature as an inspired, 
 but also compatible with its object as an instructive, 
 work. For if there be any demonstrable incom- 
 patibility between the existing difficulties and the 
 intended instruction of the Scriptures, their defence 
 must, after all, be given up, however useful they 
 may be proved in any other respect. 
 
 This, then, is the last general argument against 
 which we have to contend in favour of " things hard 
 to be understood;" and in its fundamental prin- 
 ciples it is perfectly correct. Did the Jewish and 
 Christian revelations profess to lead us into " all 
 truth," without limitation or degree ; did they pre- 
 tend to open to us the recesses of every science, 
 and to make us wise upon all imaginable subjects in 
 
 * Rom. xv. 4.
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 32C 
 
 earth or heaven, then, no doubt, the existence of 
 " things hard to be understood," of whatever kind, 
 and to any extent, would be injurious to the end 
 proposed, and of course both inexpedient and im- 
 proper. If the Bible declared its intention of laying 
 down, without the possibility of being mistaken, 
 misinterpreted, or misapplied, all the endless va- 
 rieties of philosophical and literary edification, no 
 literary or philosophical difficulties whatever ought 
 to have a place in the table of its contents. But 
 this is very far indeed from being the case. The 
 only declared object of revelation is to make men 
 " wise unto salvation * ;" and, for that purpose, it 
 ministers not to questions of science, but of " godly 
 edifying," " that the man of God may be perfect," not 
 in all the varied branches of human research, but of 
 heavenly righteousness, and " thoroughly furnished," 
 not unto all literary, but " unto all good works."t 
 It distinctly claims, but it claims no more than to 
 teach us the words, and show us the way that 
 leadeth unto everlasting life. It is only, therefore, 
 when the difficulties which the Bible contains are, 
 either in their nature or degree, destructive of that 
 special and spiritual purpose, that they can be 
 deemed any serious obstacle to its professed in- 
 structive character. If its words be so extremely 
 liable to be misinterpreted or misunderstood, that 
 few, however anxious, can draw from them the 
 wisdom of salvation ; if the way which it points out 
 as the road to heavenly bliss, be so extremely in- 
 
 * 2 Tim. iii. 15 t 2 Tim. iii. 17.
 
 330 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 tricate and dark, that few, even of the most acute 
 and diligent, can find it ; if the facts, the doctrines, 
 or the precepts it proclaims, appear to the most 
 impartial enquirers unrighteous, or to the most en- 
 lightened irrational ; or if it be so confused, or con- 
 tradictory, or trifling, as to be useless for the great 
 end it assumes to have in view in all these cases, 
 of course, we must necessarily admit that its dif- 
 ficulties form a solid objection to it in its instructive 
 capacity; because they constitute a real objection 
 to its supposed intention of being the guide to 
 happiness, and rule of life. But if it be the " un- 
 learned and unstable " alone who " wrest the dif- 
 ficulties of Scripture to their own destruction;" if 
 when its meaning is hidden, it is hidden only " to 
 them that are lost," whose minds " the god of this 
 world hath blinded *, " that they should not see the 
 things that belong to their everlasting peace ; if, in 
 things essential, it be clear, and doubtful only in 
 matters of inferior import ; if there be no portion of 
 its contents which, when rightly interpreted, can 
 give an example of encouragement to an ungodly 
 life ; if there be no moral regulation which can 
 fairly be considered as defective or dangerous, and 
 no speculative proposition which may not be shown 
 reasonable in its own nature, or credible in con- 
 sequence of the authority of him who propounds it 
 then may we safely maintain that its partial 
 obscurity is not incompatible with its office as a 
 teacher of religious truth. Then, also, may we 
 
 * 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4.
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 331 
 
 safely conclude, that if there be no incompatibility 
 between the difficulties and the religiously instruct- 
 ive character of the Scriptures, it was not necessary ; 
 and, if not necessary, not expedient, to make every 
 thing they contain alike intelligible to the idle and 
 the industrious, the learned and the ignorant, in 
 every age, in every country, and under every mo- 
 dification of circumstances. For, by so doing, some 
 arguments of considerable weight in favour of the 
 probability of the genuineness, the authenticity, 
 and the divine authority of the Bible, would have 
 been lost : and nothing absolutely essential would 
 have been gained ; since all the fundamentals of 
 faith and practice, all that God imperatively de- 
 mands of his creatures, as the conditions of their 
 eternal happiness, are presumed to have been so 
 plainly and perspicuously revealed, that he who 
 runs with the greatest energy and rapidity towards 
 the mark of the prize of his high calling in Christ 
 Jesus, provided only that he run honestly and 
 sincerely, may both read and understand, believe 
 and do them. 
 
 That objection to the truth and authority of the 
 Scriptures which is founded upon the occurrence in 
 them of " things hard to be understood," is thus 
 ultimately found to resolve itself into these two 
 simple questions : First, Are the Scriptures suf- 
 ficiently clear upon all the fundamentals of religion, 
 to every willing and ordinary capacity? Secondly, 
 Amongst the various difficulties with which reve- 
 lation is acknowledged to abound, are there any
 
 332 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 which, when correctly explained, and temperately 
 and reasonably viewed, would lead a dispassionate 
 and well disposed mind from " the ways of God's 
 laws, and the works of his commandments ?" These 
 two questions form the whole of what we are ab- 
 solutely interested to determine ; for if the former 
 be affirmatively, and the latter negatively, answered ; 
 if the Bible do really contain with fulness, and 
 convey with clearness, all the essential principles of 
 faith and duty ; and if there really be no difficulties 
 which can be justly made to minister to ungodliness 
 in opinions or deeds, then most assuredly its dif- 
 ficulties, however numerous, or varied, or inexpli- 
 cable, are not destructive of its only important ob- 
 ject, as a religiously instructive work the spiritual 
 edification of such as study it as the repository of 
 saving truth, and apply to it as the fountain of eter- 
 nal life. Let us, then, proceed to pass these two 
 points, in succession, under our review, and con- 
 sider them with as much brevity as their nature 
 and importance will permit. 
 
 1. Let us examine whether the Scriptures be at 
 once both explicit and complete, upon all those 
 leading branches of speculative and practical theo- 
 logy, which are requisite to direct the efforts and 
 fulfil the wants of human nature, in her present 
 ruined condition and this transitory life. But upon 
 this subject it is really almost superfluous to debate. 
 Every part of the Gospel contains so much of the 
 great outlines of religion, and details them in such 
 easy and compendious terms, that we have but to
 
 BENSON,] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 333 
 
 open the New Testament, in almost any of its pages, 
 and draw forth a scheme which none could either 
 mistake or doubt. " God is a Spirit ; and they 
 that worship him must worship him in Spirit and in 
 Truth * is the fundamental verity of the Gospel, 
 and it " preaches repentance and remission of sins 
 in the namef" of the Son of God, declaring, at the 
 same time, that " neither is there salvation in any 
 other ; for there is none other name under heaven 
 given among men, whereby we must be saved J," 
 but only the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. It 
 therefore " commandeth all men every where to 
 repent and believe the Gospel ;" proclaiming, " that 
 whosoever believeth in the Son of God shall not 
 perish, but have everlasting life."|| Thus intelli- 
 gible are its doctrines ; and in its precepts, both 
 prohibitory and positive, it is equally distinct. It 
 affirms, that not only " the wicked shall be turned 
 into hell," but also, " all the people that forget 
 God."f It proclaims that neither " fornicators, 
 nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor 
 abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, 
 nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor ex- 
 tortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God."** 
 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, 
 whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things 
 
 * John, iv. 24. t Luke, xxiv. 47. 
 
 i Acts, iv. 12. Acts, xvii. 30. and Mark, i. 15. 
 
 | John, iii. 16. 1 P 831 vii - 17 ' 
 
 * 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10.
 
 334; Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever 
 things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good 
 report ; if there be any virtue, and if there be any 
 praise*," it beseeches us to "think on these things." 
 and to do them ; because he only will be saved 
 " who doeth the will of his Father which is in 
 heaven."-j- And, lastly, to enable and give encourage- 
 ment in the discharge of these duties, it promises 
 the Holy Spirit to help the infirmities of them that 
 pray for it, and to control the weakness of the flesh 
 in them that sincerely struggle against its lusts. 
 Thus intelligible are the terms, and thus full and 
 satisfactory the principles, which the Scriptures are 
 universally, and under every varied image, and in 
 every possible form of expression, enunciating and 
 inculcating upon the most unlearned and incapable. 
 Nor is this a mere seeming simplicity, or a religion 
 of barren and inoperative speculation. The fruits 
 are visible in the history of the religious opinions of 
 the world, wherever either the Jewish or Christian 
 revelations have been known. Compare the assur- 
 ance of the meanest Israelite upon the nature of 
 God, and what he requires from man, with the 
 doubts, and errors, and fluctuations, even of the 
 wisest of the heathen philosophers to whom the 
 law and the prophets were unknown, and the supe- 
 rior rectitude of views and sentiments in the uncul- 
 tivated disciple of Moses, over the most sagacious 
 scholars of Socrates, will stand forth wonderful and 
 confessed. Compare the first Tusculan Disputation 
 
 * Phil. iv. 8. f Matt. vii. 21.
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 335 
 
 of Cicero, with any of our commonest Christian 
 treatises upon the resurrection of the body and 
 the immortality of the soul, and the difference will 
 appear equally striking. Whilst the Roman orator 
 proceeds slowly and insecurely, faltering at every 
 step, and evidently doubtful to what his reasonings 
 may lead : the Christian enquirer assumes a bolder 
 and more erect attitude ; treads the ground as if he 
 felt conscious of its firmness; and keeping the con- 
 viction of the truth of a future and eternal life 
 steadily in his eye, as the end at which he aims, 
 hastens, sometimes almost too rapidly, to establish 
 the necessity and certainty of a retributive state. 
 The heathen seems always striving to learn what is 
 the opinion he ought to form. The Christian talks 
 as one who had already formed his opinion, and 
 was labouring only to find arguments to convince 
 others of its propriety. The one seeks for a con- 
 clusion, the other only for premises on which to 
 build it. Such is the change produced upon the 
 thinking and writing part of mankind, by the perusal 
 of the clear declarations of Holy Writ ; and the un- 
 thinking and merely reading or hearing classes of 
 the community have been equally benefited and 
 informed. WTierever and whenever the Bible has 
 been freely circulated, and its contents extensively 
 known, that age or nation will be found possessed 
 of proportionably sounder views in religion and mo- 
 rality than others ; and the ignorance of the Scrip- 
 tures and idolatry of the church in popish times, 
 when contrasted with the banishment of idolatry,
 
 336 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 or modified explanation of the use and object of 
 images, which has taken place since the spread of 
 the Scriptures by the Reformation, are as plain a 
 proof that the Gospel is the Gospel of the poor, and 
 that " the law of the Lord is an undefiled law, 
 and giveth wisdom unto the simple *," as any rea- 
 sonable enquirer would wish to possess. It cannot, 
 therefore, be fairly denied, that the Scriptures, 
 whatever other " hard things" they may contain, 
 are at least sufficiently full and clear upon all the 
 fundamentals of faith and practice to every willing 
 and ordinary capacity. Thus, then, may the first 
 question proposed be answered, as we wished it to 
 be, in the affirmative. In the principal and essen- 
 tial point, the Bible has " the words of eternal life," 
 and may be shown, by a reference, both to reasoning 
 and experience, to be " able to make men wise unto 
 salvation" by its leading doctrines, and "thoroughly 
 furnished unto all good works" by its leading precepts. 
 2. Having thus seen that, generally speaking, the 
 Bible is pre-eminently " profitable both for doctrine 
 and for instruction in righteousness," it only remains 
 for us to examine, secondly, whether, amongst its 
 difficult and mysterious passages, there be any which 
 are either so dubious or liable to perversion, as to 
 be of a dangerous or an immoral tendency ; for in 
 that case, and in that case only, can " things hard 
 to be understood" be regarded as injurious to the 
 object, and, therefore, indefensible in the pages of 
 a spiritually instructive work. In fact, it is not the 
 * Psalm xix. 7.
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 337 
 
 mere existence of some difficulties in revelation 
 which constitutes the real matter in dispute be- 
 tween the Deist and the Christian, so much as the 
 nature and extent of those difficulties which do 
 occur : and this the Deist himself, by his conduct, . 
 seems virtually to allow. For though he sometimes 
 talks of the Scriptures as " being written to be 
 understood, if they were written for any purpose at 
 all," and would thence seem to infer, that in all parts, 
 and upon all topics, they ought to have been so 
 written as to be thoroughly and universally under- 
 stood ; yet, by the frequency and earnestness of his 
 attempts to prove that particular passages, and pre- 
 cepts, and doctrines, are inconsistent with moral and 
 religious edification, it is in a great measure implied 
 that he is aware that such is, in reality, the only true 
 ground of objection. Else why employ so much 
 time in passing a censure upon insulated difficulties 
 as injurious to virtue and repugnant to the character 
 of a just and holy God, when, if the appearance of 
 any difficulties at all was altogether indefensible, he 
 might, by establishing that single point, have swept 
 away the whole in one general sentence of con- 
 demnation ? To this point, therefore, it is, that the 
 theologian isbound principally and seriously to attend. 
 Leaving the consideration of the mere abstract fact 
 of the existence of " some things hard to be under- 
 stood," as a fact whose propriety no reasonable man 
 w ould deny, he must go on to the more arduous and 
 
 * Ps. xix. 7. 
 VOL. i. z
 
 338 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 extensive labour of examining the Scripture diffi- 
 culties in detail, and vindicating the character and 
 tendency of each from the various aspersions and 
 misrepresentations with which they have been loaded 
 by the unbeliever. This is his peculiar and most 
 important task ; and this task, after having already 
 laid down those general arguments which serve to 
 establish the general expediency of difficulties in a 
 revelation, must hereafter also be mine. But before 
 I proceed to the examination of any particular ex- 
 amples of " things hard to be understood " I shall, 
 first of all, endeavour to facilitate the execution of 
 the laborious undertaking to myself, and prepare the 
 minds of others for a due apprehension of the argu- 
 ments I shall urge in each individual case, by laying 
 down those fundamental principles upon which our 
 attempts at the solution of all Scripture difficulties 
 ought uniformly to be conducted. I shall next en- 
 deavour to prevent the indulgence of those unreason- 
 able' expectations of universal success which are at 
 once so prevalent and prejudicial to the faith of the 
 world, by pointing out, as nearly as possible, that 
 precise degree of success which is probable and 
 necessary to be attained in such enquiries. Having 
 dismissed these preliminary considerations, and pre- 
 pared the way for a more detailed investigation of 
 the subject, I shall then give a compendious classi- 
 fication, and a comparative estimate of the import- 
 ance of the different kinds of difficulties in Scripture. 
 Finally, and because the sceptical perversions of the
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 339 
 
 contents of Holy Writ are so numerous and varied, 
 that, if all were to be answered, the world would 
 neither receive nor read the books that would be 
 written, I shall select some particular class for the 
 purpose of immediate illustration, and after having 
 shown in a few conspicuous instances the futility 
 of those objections which are usually urged with 
 such unhesitating boldness by the unbeliever, leave 
 the reader to form his own conclusions upon the rest, 
 and to wait with patience until the remaining dark- 
 ness of revelation shall have been gradually dissi- 
 pated by time, or the toil of succeeding enquirers. 
 
 Such is the plan it is my intention, with the 
 blessing of God, to pursue in the suDsequent 
 Lectures ; and I am led to it by motives both of a 
 private and a public nature ; both because it is pre- 
 scribed as one of the duties of my laborious office, 
 and because it seems more peculiarly called for in 
 the present day. " To wrest the Scriptures to 
 their own destruction" and that of others, has, no 
 doubt, in every period of the Church, been the mis- 
 fortune of the " unlearned" in godliness, and the 
 " unstable" in the faith. But the evil has been 
 more decidedly prevalent in these latter times, and 
 the reasoners against revelation have assumed a far 
 more positive and disrespectful tone than was ever 
 known or heard of before. There has sprung up in 
 these degenerate days a most pernicious class of 
 infidels, who, without deigning, if indeed they were 
 able, to enter into any serious reasoning upon the 
 subject of religion, have been bad and bold enough 
 z 2
 
 340 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 to adopt all the conclusions of their predecessors as 
 undeniably true. They scorn any longer to argue 
 the case as doubtful ; and assuming it as an admitted 
 fact that revelation is incapable of any rational de- 
 fence, they pour forth the torrent of their abuse in 
 language whose impiety and indecency I dare not 
 repeat. It would be a shame even to speak those 
 things, which these men glory in proclaiming openly 
 to the world ; which they utter in the streets, and 
 courts of justice, and by which they have insulted 
 the judges of the land, and would pollute the purity 
 of the female breast. To talk of the " impure morals 
 of the Bible Deity," and to pronounce the God and 
 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a God of " cruelty, 
 injustice, deceit, fraud, and the worst of human 
 vices," such is a specimen of the impieties which 
 they have dared to familiarise to the ears of a 
 Christian people : and as the servant is not greater 
 than his Lord, we cannot wonder, after this, to 
 find them accusing the purest and holiest of God's 
 saints as guilty of iniquities at which nature shud- 
 ders, and which morality refuses to name. I speak 
 not unadvisedly on this subject. They have been 
 painful hours which I have given to the examin- 
 ation of such writings ; but I have given my hours 
 to the task, because it was my duty to do so : and 
 (thank God and his protecting grace) the issue has 
 been, a conviction of nothing but the desperation of 
 those minds, the corruption of those tastes, and the 
 pitiable ungodliness of those hearts, which could 
 dare to be so light and lustful in a matter of such
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 341 
 
 unspeakble solemnity. Be it true, or be it false, 
 revelation is always serious itself, and has conse- 
 quently a right to demand seriousness from others : 
 and it is a mark either of an unsound head or an in- 
 sincere heart to meet it in the spirit of railing and 
 of ribaldry. Not only however do these enemies of 
 the truth revile and speak all manner of evil falsely 
 against the Gospel, but one of their basest and 
 principal efforts is, to pour their calumnies into 
 minds too weak to resist or refute them, and to 
 clothe them in such a fascinating garb, as may cap- 
 tivate the imagination and disturb the impartiality 
 of the reasoning powers. It is to the daughters of 
 our Israel that some specially recommend their im- 
 piety and impurity. It is in a form and language 
 which may be level to the means and capacities of 
 the less educated part of the community, that others 
 utter forth their notes of defiance against the God 
 of Israel and his saints : and it is with the charms 
 of poetic numbers, and in all the glowing colours of 
 poetic imagery, that one master-spirit has sought to 
 insinuate the poison of doubt and distrust with re- 
 gard to the mercy and the holiness of David's 
 Lord. Where are the marks of truth or of justice 
 in all this ? If men wished to beguile, and deceive, 
 and corrupt, this is the very mode they would pur- 
 sue. If men wished to turn away the thoughts of 
 their hearers and their readers from the real merits 
 of the question, and set the passions in array against 
 religion, and " make the worse appear the better 
 reason," this is the very course which subtlety 
 z 3
 
 342 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 would tempt them to adopt. Yet, suspicious as their 
 proceedings are, I presume not positively to say, 
 how much of ignorance, or insincerity, or unmingled 
 and unmitigated hatred to godliness may be in these 
 men's thoughts. There is one who knoweth, and 
 will judge them in the day of his wrath. Neither 
 know I to what degree of hardness they have grown, 
 nor whether it be yet possible that their consciences 
 may hereafter be stricken with a due sense of the 
 horrible thing they are attempting to work among 
 God's people. But, if it be possible that they should 
 hereafter look upon their present attempts to over- 
 throw the faith of thousands, in that light in which 
 they are now viewed by every Christian of real 
 piety, nay, even by every friend of sound morality, 
 it would require a pen more powerful than the best 
 of them can boast, a conception more sublime, and 
 expressions more energetic, than the noblest of their 
 leaders own, to estimate the load of unavailing and 
 irremediable regret which will weigh down their 
 minds in the day of their penitence, and hasten 
 their gray hairs into a sorrowful grave.* There is 
 
 * Since the last edition of these Lectures was published, 
 the NOBLE POET to whom this passage alludes, has died, and 
 " made no sign " of repentance for the evil his writings are 
 calculated, in so many instances, to produce. But I am not 
 inclined either to withdraw or alter the expressions I have used. 
 I would only add, that it appears from the history of almost all 
 authors, that those whose principles are not sufficiently pure to 
 prevent them from publishing what may be injurious to the 
 morals or faith of mankind, are seldom afterwards touched
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 343 
 
 something in the nature of intellectual and literary 
 iniquity which makes it impossible to obviate its 
 dreadful effects. If I oppress the weak by my 
 
 with a sense of their crime, or a feeling of remorse for what 
 they have done ; and a warning more awful against the slight- 
 est approach to such a crime it would be difficult to conceive. 
 
 [Thus far the learned and amiable author of the above Dis- 
 course. The reader will bear with me in a considerable 
 extension of this note. There has recently appeared a very 
 singular and interesting volume, entitled Conversations on 
 Religion with Lord Byron, by the late James Kennedy, M.D. 
 1830. 8vo. These conversations took place in Cephalonia, where 
 Dr. Kennedy was professionally settled, and about a fortnight 
 before Lord Byron quitted that place for Greece to assist in 
 the repulsion of the Turks. His Lordship died very shortly 
 after his landing there, and before any great contest had taken 
 place between the conflicting parties. It is clear, from the 
 commencement, that, although he despised the individual 
 Greek, he loved the country of Greece. One of bis earliest 
 and happiest effusions (the Giaour) contains a splendid and 
 well known comparative description of the ancient, with 
 the present faded, glories of that country. To his eye, of 
 which the vision was almost always poetical, the shores of 
 Greece were yet irradiated with a halo, the reflex of early 
 associations from early reading. To that same eye, although 
 Lord Byron, in common parlance, laughed at those who would 
 repeople Greece with the heroes recorded in Plutarch's pages 
 to that same eye, Leonidas was still fighting in the field, Pericles 
 still haranguing in the arsenal, and Alcibiades still revelling in 
 the banquet-room. 
 
 In such a state of mind, and with the prospect of evincing 
 something like an heroic achievement at a crisis of unusual 
 interest in that devoted country, Lord Byron, together with a 
 few of his friends, became acquainted with Dr. Kennedy. Re- 
 ligious discussions were professedly entered upon. The 
 Z 4
 
 344 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 power, by my power I can again repay him for his 
 sufferings. If by dishonesty I rise to wealth, I can 
 obliterate by liberality, when I repent, the greater part 
 
 friends of his Lordship, with one exception, evidently " halted 
 between two opinions." Lord Byron (then thirty-seven years 
 of age), confessed that he was " desirous of believing:" in 
 other words, that he was, at the time, no believer in Christi- 
 anity. At such a period of life, with such an extraordinarily 
 constructed mind in the individual who made this confession, it 
 required more than ordinary tact in his opponent, first, to 
 bring the mind into a right frame for the reception of the truths 
 of religion and, secondly, to press home, with a view of pro- 
 ducing their proper fruits, those truths themselves. Dr. Ken- 
 nedy appears to me to have failed in both points. At the same 
 time, I cannot express myself in words sufficiently strong in 
 the admission of the sweetness of his temper, the sincerity of his 
 piety, the fearlessness of his avowals, and his uncompromising 
 and ingenuous manner of uttering (according to his strict belief) 
 " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." That 
 Dr. Kennedy was both earnest and anxious to put his oppo- 
 nent " in the way which leadeth to life everlasting," there 
 cannot be a shadow of doubt. He was also an able appre- 
 ciator of the intellectual attainments of the noble poet ; and it 
 may be questioned whether his critical summary of them 
 (pp. 326 342.) has been yet equalled certainly not excelled. 
 But during the whole period of these " religious conversa- 
 tions," Lord Byron was thinking of Greece, 
 
 Dr. Kennedy appears to me to have frequently used im- 
 proper materials, whether by way of persuasion or of reply. 
 To begin with the recommendation of John Newton and Mr. 
 Scott (p. 40.), and to urge a serious perusal of " Boston's 
 Fourfold State" (p. 205.) with such a disputant as Lord 
 Byron, was surely bringing very feeble implements to make 
 an impression upon a mind constructed like his. It is clear 
 (p. 213.} that Lord Byron soon sickened of Boston. On the
 
 BENSON 7 .] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 345 
 
 of the evil consequences of the wrong I have done. 
 But the characters of impiety or impurity which my 
 hand has once traced and sent forth into the world, 
 
 contrary, such a writer as Paley, especially in his Evidences and 
 Horce Paulina and such a treatise as Michaelis upon the 
 Authenticity and Inspiration of the New Testament (with Bishop 
 Marsh's notes) would, I submit, have been more likely, first, 
 to have rivetted the attention, and, secondly, to have carried 
 conviction to Lord Byron's mind. His Lordship himself, who 
 frankly confessed his general ignorance of religious works and 
 who speaks of reading Barrow when a boy, in the habit of 
 going to church with his mother (p. 47.), and who afterwards, 
 coupling Barrow with Stillingfleet, asks Dr. Kennedy if he 
 was acquainted with them? had clearly no distinct recollections 
 of the substance of either of these authors. Those great men 
 wrote for matured and cultivated understandings in matters of 
 theological learning, and administered not " milk for babes." 
 Again, at p. 143-4. talking of Warburton's theory (which, 
 by the way> is no where fairly unfolded), Lord Byron admits 
 that " he had rather glanced over than read it." His mind was 
 naturally not inductive, but almost wholly imaginative. In 
 speaking of the Old Testament and of the Deity, Lord Byron 
 says he is most struck and gratified with the witch of Endor, 
 and with the notion of the devils being made to.tremble at the 
 nod of the Almighty : see pages 145 154. At page 147. we 
 are told that " Lord Byron expressed how much the belief of 
 the real appearance of Satan to hear and obey the commands 
 of God, added to his views of the grandeur and majesty of the 
 Creator ! " 
 
 Dr. Kennedy was also somewhat too hasty. He pressed his 
 adversary too closely, not with the arguments of the schools 
 or of the church, but with the recommendation of experiments, 
 which at least startled, and might have displeased, him. To 
 the interrogatory at page 173, Lord Byron replies, " This is
 
 316 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 no tears can wash out, no penitence can recall. 
 Like Pilate, what the unbeliever " has written, he 
 has written," and he cannot, if he would, either un- 
 do the deed, or frustrate its effects. The Spirit of 
 the Lord may come upon the infidel writer, and 
 bring his heart into a great and godly sorrow for 
 his sin. He may weep in holy penitence over his 
 
 going too fast." Again, at page 174-5. in the recommendation 
 of prayer " begin this very night to pray that God would par- 
 don your sins, and grant you understanding to find out the 
 truth, and continue praying on the one hand, and reading your 
 Bible on the other," &c. It was not likely that his noble op- 
 ponent would see much reasoning in this recommendation ; and, 
 truth to say, it was supposing effects to precede causes. Why 
 Bishop Watson (p. 14O.) is treated so lightly by Dr. Kennedy 
 in particular (for it is hardly fair to dwell upon Lord Byron's 
 opinion of divines) it were difficult to determine. That 
 strong-minded prelate struck a great stroke at a moment of the 
 most essential need. His Apology for the Bible annihilated the 
 blasphemy of the Age of Reason. To revert to Dr. Kennedy's 
 volume. The reader will be anxious to know what was THE 
 RESULT of these " Conversations." The answer must be 
 given in sorrow. In the two last letters of Lord Byron to 
 Dr. Kennedy (pp. 347. 351.) after his Lordship's settlement in 
 Greece, and not long before his death, there is nothing from 
 which we can infer that the latter had succeeded in his com- 
 mendable efforts. In Dr. Millingen's publication relating to 
 Lord Byron's death, the same truth is more unqualifiedly 
 told. The Christian who contemplates such a catastrophe, 
 turns in anguish of soul, and deepness of commiseration, from 
 the dying, to the Giver of life, and raises his heart with his 
 voice : " O holy and merciful Saviour, thou most worthy Judge 
 eternal, suffer us not at our LAST HOUR for any pains of death 
 to fall from THEE !" ED.]
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 34.7 
 
 past unbelief, and through a renewal of faith be 
 made again a partaker of the graces of redemption 
 and sanctification unto his own eternal glory. But 
 all his hope and assurance of salvation for his own 
 soul in the world to come, will never be able to take 
 away the fearful forebodings he must entertain of 
 the incalculable evil which his sceptical and ungodly 
 writings may have inflicted upon the souls of others 
 in the world that now is. Let the man of genius 
 who has perverted his talents be never so repentant 
 for the abuse of his powers, and never so certain of 
 having his pardon sealed to him through the blood 
 of Jesus, still he will feel, and feel wretched when 
 he thinks, that he has been guilty of a crime beyond 
 his abilities to repair. That is a worm which can 
 never die. For the invention of printing has given 
 such strength, and swiftness, and stability to the 
 thoughts and words of mankind, that when once our 
 opinions have been subjected to the operations of 
 the press, they are withdrawn for ever from our 
 grasp, and will work the work for which they were 
 originally sent forth, in defiance of all our efforts to 
 blot them" out. Nay, our very efforts to recall the 
 writings we have condemned will but, in many 
 instances, have a tendency to increase their circula- 
 tion, by more effectually stimulating the passions of 
 the corrupt, the interests of trade, and the curiosity 
 of the inquisitive, to preserve and study what the 
 author seems so anxious to destroy. Whatever then 
 may be the views with which these unbelieving and 
 ungodly writers have promulgated their rebukes and
 
 348 Scripture Difficulties vindicated. [CHRISTOPHER 
 
 blasphemies against the religion of the Son of God, 
 whether they be deceiving or only deceived, they 
 have done an evil which no subsequent exertions of 
 their pen or their penitence can ever obliterate. 
 Their souls, it is possible, may yet, if they repent 
 and turn to the Lord in faith, be saved ; but it is 
 impossible, even if their souls be saved, that their 
 consciences should not through life be irremediably 
 grieved by the melancholy reflection that they have 
 been preparing a mental poison for which their 
 feebleness can administer no certain antidote, and 
 mingling a cup of bitterness for generations yet un- 
 born. In that conviction they must die. By the 
 anguish of that reflection must their last hours be 
 embittered, and they must quit the earth and its 
 inhabitants conscious that they have sown the seeds 
 of infidelity, and eternal death, in many an unwary 
 and unstable soul. 
 
 Father of Mercies, save its from this woe, and 
 teach us ever to speak and to write such things only 
 as may be pleasing in thy sight, and profitable to 
 thy people ! Great Lord of Light and Life, thou 
 that art the Author and the Giver of all wisdom, 
 take away, we beseech thee, the darkness of our 
 minds ; enlighten and enliven us with the knowledge 
 of thy truth, and guide our pens, that they err not 
 against the holiness of thy law ! And thou, the 
 Eternal Spirit of the Father and the Son, thou that 
 art the Ruler and the Sanctifier of the heart, cleanse 
 us from all filthiness, both of flesh and of spirit, 
 quench in us the lust of curiosity and praise, " in-
 
 BENSON.] Scripture Difficulties vindicated. 34-9 
 
 crease in us true religion, nourish us with all good- 
 ness, and of thy great mercy " so govern and direct 
 the works of our understandings, that through them 
 may be ascribed unto the Father, unto the Son, 
 and unto the Holy Ghost, all power, might, majesty, 
 dominion, and praise, now, henceforth, and for 
 evermore ! Amen.
 
 350 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 ANNIVERSARY SERMON FOR THE SONS 
 OF THE CLERGY.* 
 
 DEUTERONOMY, xv. 1 1. 
 
 For the poor shall never cease out of the land : therefore I com- 
 mand thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy 
 brother, to thy poor and to thy needy in thy land.^ 
 
 SINCE civilised society is unquestionably the life 
 which Providence designs for man, formed, as he 
 evidently is, with powers to derive his proper happi- 
 ness from what he may contribute to the public good, 
 
 * Bishop Horsley's Sermons, (see p. 205. ante) vol. ii. p. 101. 
 
 f Preached at the Anniversary Meeting of the Sons of the 
 Clergy, May 18. 1786. 
 
 [Although, at first sight, the subject of the above sermon 
 may appear to be too exclusive for the generality of readers, and 
 therefore somewhat in disunion with the character of those 
 which have preceded it, yet a second reflection will, it is hoped, 
 reconcile it to every dispassionate Christian. It can be no 
 matter of indifference to a thinking and well regulated under- 
 standing, to place before it a concise view of the general lot 
 and character of those " MINISTERS OF CHRIST, AND STEWARDS 
 OF THE MYSTERIES OF GOD," by whose labours that word of 
 salvation has been illustrated and enforced from their pulpits. 
 If the pious reader have felt edification and comfort in a 
 perusal of any of the preceding discourses, he will not think
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 351 
 
 nor less formed to be miserable in solitude, by want 
 of employment for the faculties which something of 
 a natural instinct prompts him to exert, since what 
 are commonly called the artificial distinctions of 
 society, the inequalities of rank, wealth, and power, 
 must, in truth, be a part of God's design, when he 
 designs man to a life in which the variety of occupa- 
 tions and pursuits, arising from those discriminations 
 
 his time misspent in closing this volume after duly pondering 
 upon the contents of that which is now before him. 
 
 The sermon of Bishop Horsley, preached at a period (1786) 
 sufficiently remote to remove it from the operation of present 
 prejudices, is not less conspicuous for the forcible and con- 
 vincing manner in which it advocates the cause of the charity 
 for which it was undertaken, than for the spirited outline which 
 it exhibits of the different orders, bearings, and characteristics 
 of the ministers of the established church of England. There 
 nave been other sermons, perhaps, to the full as particular and 
 as convincing ; but the high, uncompromising character of the 
 prelate, from whom the ABOVE is selected, gives a force to his 
 representations, which, at the least, cannot be exceeded by the 
 efforts of more recent advocates. Nor will such a discourse 
 appear mistimed at the PRESENT MOMENT. It may teach others 
 to think and to act for themselves, from a cautious and honest 
 exercise of their own judgment, rather than to take up, at 
 second hand, the thoughts of the ignorant and artful, and to 
 imitate that conduct which is the usual result of such ignorance 
 and duplicity. It may induce the prejudiced to reconsider the 
 data on which their opinions have been formed : and, yet 
 happier result ! it may incline the sceptic to retrace his wan- 
 derings, and to believe, in sincerity and in truth, that those who 
 preach the word are NOT, knowingly, the expounders of " cun- 
 ningly devised fables." ED.]
 
 352 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 of condition, is no less essential to the public weal, 
 than the diversity of members in the natural body, 
 and the different functions of its various parts are 
 essential to the health and vigour of the individual, 
 since, in harmony with this design of driving man 
 by his powers and capacities, no less than by his 
 wants and infirmities, to seek his happiness in civil 
 life, it is ordained that every rank furnish the in- 
 dividual with the means, not only of subsistence, but 
 of comfort and enjoyment, (for although the pleasures 
 of the different degrees of men are drawn from dif- 
 ferent sources, and differ greatly in the elegance and 
 lustre of their exterior form and show, yet the quan- 
 tity of real happiness within the reach of the indi- 
 vidual will be found, upon a fair and just comparison, 
 in all the ranks of life the same,) upon this view 
 of the Divine original of civil society, with the in- 
 equalities of condition which obtain in it, and the 
 provision which is equally made in all conditions for 
 the happiness of the individual, it may seem per- 
 haps unreasonable, it may seem a presumptuous 
 deviation from the Creator's plan, that any should 
 become suitors to the public charity for a better sub- 
 sistence than their own labour might procure. Po- 
 verty, it may seem, can be nothing more than an 
 imaginary evil ; of which the modest never will com- 
 plain, which the intelligent never will commiserate, 
 and the politic never will relieve. And the com- 
 plaint, it may seem, can never be more indecent, or 
 less worthy of regard, than when it is used by those 
 who profess to be strangers and pilgrims upon the
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 353 
 
 earth, and to have a balm for all the evils of the 
 present world in the certainty of their prospects in 
 a better country. 
 
 Shocking as I trust these conclusions must be to 
 the feelings of a Christian assembly, it may never- 
 theless be useful to demonstrate, that they have no 
 real connection with the principles from which they 
 seem to be drawn, that they are not less contrary 
 to reason and to sound policy than to the feelings of 
 philanthropy and the precepts of the Gospel. For 
 although I shall not readily admit that the proof of 
 moral obligation cannot in any instance be complete, 
 unless the connection be made out between the action 
 which the heart naturally approves, and that which a 
 right understanding of the interests of mankind would 
 recommend, (on the contrary, to judge practically of 
 right and wrong, we should feel rather than philoso- 
 phise, and we should act from sentiment rather than 
 from policy,) yet we surely acquiesce with the 
 most cheerfulness in our duty when we perceive how 
 the useful and the fair are united in the same action. 
 
 I therefore undertake to prove these two things: 
 
 First, That poverty is a real evil ; which, without 
 any impeachment of the goodness orwisdom of Provi- 
 dence, the constitution of the world actually admits. 
 
 Secondly, That the providential appointment of 
 this evil, in subservience to the general good, brings 
 a particular obligation upon men in civilised society 
 to concur for the immediate extinction of the evil, 
 wherever it appears. " The poor shall never cease 
 out of the land." And for this especial reason, be- 
 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 354 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 cause the poor shall never cease, therefore it is com- 
 manded, " That thou open thine hand wide unto thy 
 brother ; that thou surely lend him sufficient for his 
 need, in that which he wanteth." 
 
 The distribution of mankind into various orders is 
 not more essential to the being of society, than it is 
 conducive to the public good that the fortunes of 
 every individual in every rank should be in a consi- 
 derable degree uncertain : for were things so ordered 
 that every man's fortune should be invariably deter- 
 mined by the rank in which he should be born, or 
 by the employment to which he should be bred, an 
 Epicurean indolence, the great bane of public pros- 
 perity, would inevitably take place among all ranks 
 of men ; when industry, of all qualities of the indi- 
 vidual the most beneficial to the community, would 
 lose the incitement of its golden dreams ; and sloth, 
 of all the vices of the individual the most pernicious 
 to the community, would be released from its worst 
 apprehensions. But to be uncertain in the degree 
 which the public weal demands, the fortunes of the 
 individual must be governed, as we see they are, by 
 an intricate combination of causes, of which no sa- 
 gacity of human forecast may predict or avert the 
 event. The consequence must be, that the indi- 
 vidual's means of subsistence will not always cor- 
 respond with other circumstances, that they will 
 sometimes fall greatly short of what belongs to the 
 particular sphere, which upon the whole he is best 
 qualified to fill with advantage to the community of 
 which he is a member. This is the evil to which the
 
 HORSLEY.] for tfie Sons of the Clergy. 355 
 
 name of poverty properly belongs. The man who 
 hath food to eat and raiment to put on is not poor, 
 because his diet is plain and his apparel homely; but 
 he is truly poor whose means of subsistence are in- 
 sufficient for his proper place in society, as deter- 
 mined by the general complication of his circum- 
 stances, by his birth, his education, his bodily 
 strength, and his mental endowments. By the means 
 of subsistence, I understand not the means of super- 
 fluous gratifications ; but that present competency 
 which every individual must possess in order to be 
 in a capacity to derive a support from his industry 
 in the proper business of his calling. In every con- 
 dition of life, something more is wanting to a man's 
 support than that he should earn by his industry, 
 from day to day, the price of lodging, food, and 
 raiment, for himself and for his family. The com- 
 mon labourer must be furnished with his mattock 
 and his spade ; the tradesman must have where- 
 withal to purchase the commodities from the sale of 
 which he is to derive his livelihood : in commerce, 
 a large capital must often be expended upon the 
 expectation of a slow and distant return of profit : 
 those who are destined to the liberal professions are 
 to be qualified for the part which they are to sustain 
 in life by a long and expensive course of education ; 
 and they who are born to hereditary honours, if they 
 succeed, as too often is the case, to estates encum- 
 bered by the misfortunes or misconduct of their 
 ancestors, are restrained, by the decorums of their 
 A A 2
 
 356 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 rank, from seeking a reparation of their fortunes in 
 any mercenary occupation. 
 
 Without something, therefore, of a previous com 
 petency, it is evident, that in every rank of life the 
 individual's industry will be insufficient to his sup- 
 port. The want of this previous competency is po- 
 verty ; which, with respect to the whole, is indeed, 
 in a certain sense, no evil : it is the necessary result 
 of that instability of the individual's prosperity which 
 is so far from an evil that it is essential to the 
 general good. Yet the difficulty is a calamity to 
 those on whom it lights, a calamity against which 
 no elevation of rank secures. 
 
 Nor is it any indication of inconsistency and con- 
 tradiction in the management of the world, however 
 it may seem to superficial enquirers, that the distinc- 
 tions of rank, which the purposes of civil life demand, 
 should be occasionally, as it may seem, confounded, 
 and the different orders mixed and levelled, by a 
 calamity like this, universally incidental. It is, in- 
 deed, by this expedient that the merciful providence 
 of God guards civil life against the ruin which would 
 otherwise result from the unlimited progress of its 
 own refinements. The accumulation of power in the 
 higher ranks, were they secure against the chances 
 of life and the shocks of fortune, that is, in other 
 words, were the constitution of the world such, that 
 wealth should always correspond with other advan- 
 tages in some invariable proportion, would so se- 
 parate the interests of the different orders, that every 
 state would split into so many distinct communities
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 357 
 
 as it should contain degrees : these again would sub- 
 divide, according to the inequalities of fortune and 
 other advantages which should obtain in each ; till, 
 in the progress of the evil, civil society would be 
 dissipated and shivered into its minutest parts, by the 
 uncontrolled operation of the very principles to which 
 it owes its existence. 
 
 Thus it appears that poverty is, indeed, a real evil 
 in the life of the individual ; which, nevertheless, the 
 common good demands, and the constitution of the 
 world accordingly admits. 
 
 But so wonderfully hath Providence interwoven 
 the public and the private good, that, while the com- 
 mon weal requires that the life of the individual 
 should be obnoxious to this contingency, the public 
 is nevertheless interested in the relief of real poverty, 
 wherever the calamity alights ; for Providence hath 
 so ordained, that so long as the individual languishes 
 in poverty, the public must want the services of a 
 useful member. This, indeed, would not be the case, 
 nor would the calamity to the individual be what it 
 generally is, were the transition easy in civil society 
 from one rank to another. But the truth is, that as 
 our abilities for any particular employment are ge- 
 nerally the result of habits to which we have been 
 formed in an early part of life, combined, perhaps, 
 with what is more unconquerable than habit, the 
 natural bent of genius, a man who is the best qua- 
 lified to be serviceable to the community and to 
 himself in any one situation of life, is by that very 
 A A 3
 
 358 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 ability the most disqualified for the business of any 
 other. 
 
 This is readily understood, if the supposition be 
 made of a sudden transition from the lower stations 
 to the higher. It is easily perceived, that the quali- 
 fications of a mechanic or a tradesman would be of 
 no advantage in the pulpit, at the bar, or in the 
 senate, that the clumsy hand of the common la- 
 bourer would be ill employed in finishing the delicate 
 parts of any nice machine. But though it may be 
 less obvious, it is not less true, that the difficulty 
 would be just the same in descending from the 
 higher to the lower stations ; as there is still the 
 same contrariety of habit to create it. At the trades- 
 man's counter or the attorney's desk, the accomplish- 
 ments of the statesman or the scholar would be 
 rather of dis-service : the mechanic's delicacy of 
 hand would but unfit him for the labours of the anvil ; 
 and he who has once shone in the gay circles of a 
 court, should he attempt in the hour of distress to 
 put his hand to the plough, would be unable to earn 
 any better wages than the ridicule of every peasant 
 in the village. 
 
 Thus, every man's ability of finding a subsistence 
 for himself, and of being serviceable to the public, 
 is limited by his habits and his genius to a certain 
 sphere, which may not improperly be called the 
 sphere of his political activity. Poverty, obstructing 
 political activity in its proper sphere, arrests and 
 mortifies the powers of the citizen, rendering him 
 not more miserable in himself than useless to the
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 359 
 
 community ; which, for its own sake, must free the 
 captive from the chain which binds him, in order to 
 regain his services. So that, in truth, when it is 
 said, as it is most truly said, that the evil of poverty 
 is a public good, the proposition is to be admitted 
 under a particular interpretation: the danger of 
 poverty threatening the individual is the good ; 
 poverty in act (if I may borrow an expression 
 from the schools) is to the community, as well as to 
 the sufferer, an evil ; and since, in the formal nature 
 of the thing, it is an evil from which the individual 
 cannot be extricated by any efforts of his own, po- 
 licy, no' less than humanity, enjoins that the com- 
 munity relieve him. 
 
 Nor will the argument from political experience 
 fail, if, in some instances of poverty, the evil to the 
 public must remain when the individual is relieved. 
 This is, indeed, the case, when the calamity arises 
 from causes which go beyond the obstruction of the 
 political activity of the citizen to the extinction of 
 the natural powers of the animal ; as when the 
 limbs are lost or rendered useless by disease, or 
 when the bodily strength or the mental faculties 
 are exhausted by old age. To deny relief in such 
 instances, upon a pretence that the political reason 
 for it vanishes, because the public can receive no 
 immediate benefit from the alleviation of the evil, 
 would be to act in contradiction to the very first 
 principles, or, rather, to the first idea, of all civil 
 association ; which is that of a union of the powers 
 A A 4
 
 360 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 of the many to supply the wants, and help the in- 
 firmities of the solitary animal. 
 
 Thus it appears, that the providential appoint- 
 ment of poverty as a means of public good brings 
 an obligation upon men in civil society to exert 
 themselves for the effectual relief of those on whom 
 the mischief falls. 
 
 I would now observe, that, sacred as this obliga- 
 tion is, it is rather a duty which all individuals ' owe 
 to the public than what the public owes to its mem- 
 bers. I mean to say, that the most natural and the 
 best method of relief is by voluntary contribution. 
 It may be proper that the law should do something 
 for the protection of the necessitous. The law 
 should be careful not to do too much : its provisions 
 should be such as may save poverty from neglect, 
 and yet leave the danger of poverty indiscriminately 
 impendent over every individual in every station, 
 that the community may receive the full benefit of 
 the universal dread of that contingency. Whether 
 this joint end, of removing the evil of actual poverty 
 from private life, without losing the public advan- 
 tage of the danger, may be attained by any laws 
 which give the poor a claim to a maintenance, to be 
 levied upon certain districts in proportion to the 
 wants of the poor which each shall at any tune 
 contain, when the effect of all such laws must be 
 to change the dread of want in the lowest orders of 
 the people into an expectation of a competency, or 
 of something which idleness will prefer to a com- 
 petency, is a question which it is not my pro-
 
 HORSLEY.] far tJie Sons of the Clergy. 3t>j 
 
 vince to discuss. The fact I may take leave to 
 mention, that the burden of the imposition in this 
 country is grown, as all know, to an enormous size : 
 the benefit to the industrious poor, I fear, is less 
 than the vast sum annually levied on the nation 
 ought to procure for them ; and the pernicious 
 effect on the manners of the lowest rank of peo- 
 ple is notorious. In another place the question 
 might deserve a serious investigation, how far the 
 manner of our legal provision for the poor may or 
 may not operate to increase the frequency of cri- 
 minal executions ? 
 
 Meanwhile, it is my duty to inculcate, that nei- 
 ther the heavy burden, nor any ill effects of the 
 legal provision for the poor, may release the citizen 
 from the duty of voluntary benefaction ; except, 
 indeed, so far as what the law takes from him di- 
 minishes his means of spontaneous liberality. What 
 the laws claim from him for public purposes, he is, 
 indeed, not to consider as his own : what remains 
 after the public claims are satisfied is his property ; 
 out of which he is no less obliged to contribute 
 what he can to the relief of poverty than if no part 
 of what is taken out of his nominal property by the 
 law were applied to charitable purposes. For the 
 fact is, that after the law hath done its utmost, that 
 most interesting species of distress which should be 
 the special object of discretionary bounty goes un- 
 relieved. The utmost that the law can do is con- 
 fined to the poverty of the lowest rank of the 
 people : their old age, or their debility, it may fur-
 
 362 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 nish with the shelter of a homely lodging, with the 
 warmth of coarse but clean apparel, and with the 
 nourishment of wholesome food: their orphans it 
 should cherish, till they grow up to a sufficiency of 
 strength, for the business of husbandry, or of the lowest 
 and most laborious trades. But to the poverty of 
 the middle and superior orders, the bounty of the 
 law, after its utmost exactions, can administer no 
 adequate relief. 
 
 Thanks be to God, that, heavy as our public bur- 
 dens are, of which the legal provision for the poor 
 is among the greatest, they seem to be no check 
 upon the charitable spirit of this country ; in which 
 free bounty is still dispensed with a wide and open 
 hand. Witness the many large and noble edifices, 
 the pride and ornament of this metropolis, many 
 raised, all enriched, by voluntary contribution and 
 private legacy, for the supply of every want, the 
 mitigation of every disaster, with which frail mor- 
 tality is visited, in every stage and state of life, 
 from helpless infancy to withered age : witness the 
 numerous charitable associations in all parts of the 
 country, among all descriptions of the people : wit- 
 ness the frequent and ample contributions to every 
 instance of private distress, once publicly made 
 known : witness the pious associations for the sup- 
 port of distant missions, and the promotion of Chris- 
 tian knowledge: witness this annual celebrity, the 
 prosperity of this charitable institution, and the 
 numbers now assembled here. For I trust it is less 
 the purpose of our present meeting to feast the
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 363 
 
 ravished ear with the enchanting sounds of holy 
 harmony, (which afford, indeed, the purest of the 
 pleasures of the senses,) than to taste those nobler 
 ecstasies of energising love, of which flesh and blood, 
 the animal part of us, can no more partake than it 
 can inherit heaven. They are proper to the intel- 
 lect of man, as an image of the Deity ; they are the 
 certain symptoms of the Christian's communion 
 with his God, and an earnest of his future trans- 
 formation into the perfect likeness of his Lord. 
 
 Although every species of distress, not excepting 
 that which may have taken rise in the follies and 
 the vices of the sufferer, is an object of the Chris- 
 tian's pity, (for the love of Christ, who died for his 
 enemies, is our example, and the beneficence of our 
 heavenly Father, who is kind to the evil and the 
 unthankful, is the model of our charity,) yet our 
 joy in doing good must then be the most complete, 
 when innocence is united with distress in the ob- 
 jects of our bounty, when the distress is out of the 
 reach of any other help, and when, in the exercise 
 of the general duty, we fulfil the special injunctions 
 of our Lord. In the distress which our present 
 charity immediately regards, we find these circum- 
 stances united. The widow and the orphan are our 
 objects ; their claim to misery is in the common 
 right of human nature ; it stands not on the ground 
 of guilt and ill desert : and for those widows and . 
 those orphans, in particular, whose cause we plead, 
 should we be questioned by what means their con- 
 dition hath been brought thus low, we will con-
 
 364 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 fidently answer, By no sins of their husbands, or 
 their parents, more than of their own. It is pecu- 
 liar to the situation of a clergyman, that while he 
 is ranked (as the interests of religion require that 
 he should be ranked) with the higher orders of the 
 people, and is forbidden by the ecclesiastical law, 
 under the severest penalties, to engage in any mer- 
 cenary business, which might interfere with the 
 duties of his sacred calling, and derogate in the 
 eyes of the multitude from the dignity of his cha- 
 racter, his profession, in whatever rank he may 
 be placed in it, the least of any of the liberal pro- 
 fessions furnishes the means of making a provision 
 for a family. It may be added, with great truth, 
 that what means the profession furnishes, the cleric 
 who is the most intent upon its proper duties, the 
 most addicted to a life of study and devotion, is the 
 least qualified to improve. Hence it will oftener 
 happen to the families of clergymen than of any 
 other set of men, and it will happen, perhaps, 
 oftenest to the families of the worthiest, to be left 
 in that state, which, by the principles established 
 in the former part of this discourse, is poverty in 
 the truest import of the word, to be left destitute 
 of the means of earning a livelihood in the employ- 
 ments for which they are not disqualified by the 
 laudable habits of their previous lives. 
 
 This evil in the domestic life of the minister of 
 the Gospel, I will venture to predict, no schemes of 
 human policy ever will remove. Grand in the con- 
 ception, noble in the motives which suggested it,
 
 HORSLEY.] far the Sons of the Clergy. 365 
 
 promising, perhaps, in its first aspect, but fraught 
 with ruin in its certain consequences had it been 
 adopted, was the plan of abolishing the subordinate 
 dignities of the hierarchy, in order to apply their 
 revenues to the better maintenance of the parochial 
 clergy. The parts of civil societies, as of all things 
 in this nether world, are severally wholes, similar to 
 the compounds. Every order of men in the great 
 society of a nation is but a smaller society within 
 itself. The same principles which render a variety 
 of ranks essential in the composition of a state, 
 require inequalities of wealth and authority among 
 the individuals of which each rank is composed. 
 These inequalities, to form a harmonised, consistent 
 whole, require a regular gradation between the oppo- 
 site extremes ; which cannot be taken away, but the 
 extinction must ensue of the whole description of 
 men in which the chain is broken. 
 
 Nor less fatal to our order would be any change 
 in the tenure of ecclesiastical property ; especially 
 the favourite project of an exchange of tithes for an 
 equivalent in land. Many of us here have felt, in 
 some part of our lives, the inconvenience of suc- 
 ceeding to dilapidated houses, with small resources 
 in our private fortunes, and restrained by the cir- 
 cumstances of a predecessor's family from the at- 
 tempt to enforce our legal claims. But what would 
 be the situation of a clergyman who, in coming to a 
 living, should succeed to nothing better than a huge 
 dilapidated farm ? which would too soon become 
 the real state of every living in the kingdom in
 
 366 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 which the tithes should have been converted into 
 glebe ; not to mention the extinction of our spiritual 
 character, and the obvious inconveniences to the 
 yeomanry of the kingdom, which would be likely to 
 take place, should this new manner of our main- 
 tenance send forth the spirit of farming among the 
 rural clergy. 
 
 The truth is, that the hardships of our order arise 
 from causes which defy the relief of human laws 
 and mock the politician's skill. They arise, in part, 
 from the nature of our calling ; in part, from the 
 corrupt manners of a world at enmity with God; 
 but primarily, from the mysterious counsels of Pro- 
 vidence, which, till the whole world shall be reduced 
 to the obedience of the Gospel, admit not that the 
 ministry should be a situation of ease and enjoyment. 
 The Christian minister, in the present state of 
 Christianity, hath indeed an indisputable right to a 
 maintenance, from the work of the ministry, for 
 himself and for his family ; as he had indeed from 
 the very earliest ages ; " for the labourer is worthy 
 of his hire." In a Christian government, he justly 
 may expect to be put, so far as the secular powers 
 can effect it, into the same situation of credit and 
 respect. which might belong to a diligent exertion 
 of equal talents in any other of the liberal professions. 
 Such provision for the maintenance and for a proper 
 influence of the clergy is at least expedient, if not 
 necessary, for the support of Christianity, now that 
 its miraculous support is withdrawn, and the coun- 
 tenance of the magistrate is among the means which
 
 HORSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 367 
 
 God employs for the maintenance of the truth. 
 Yet after all that can be done by the friendship of 
 the civil powers, since our Lord's kingdom is not of 
 the present world, it would indeed be strange, if his 
 service, in the ordinary course of things, were the 
 means of amassing a fortune for posterity, more than 
 of rising to hereditary honours. Our great Master, 
 when he calls us to the ministry, holds out no such 
 expectation. He commands us to wean our affec- 
 tions from this transitory world, and to set our 
 hearts upon a heavenly treasure, to be more 
 anxious for the success of our labours upon the 
 hearts and lives of men than for the prosperity of 
 our own families. He warns us, by his inspired 
 apostle, that all who will live godly in Christ Jesus 
 will more or less sustain a damage by it in their 
 temporal interests. Yet he promises, that " if we 
 seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, 
 ah 1 those things " that are necessary for our support 
 and consolation in our pilgrimage shall be added to 
 our lot, by him who feeds the fowls of the air with 
 grain which they neither sow nor reap, and arrays 
 the lilies of the field in a more elegant apparel than 
 the East manufactures for her kings. On this pro- 
 mise it is fitting we rely ; and in the effect of this 
 charity, and of similar institutions in different parts 
 of the kingdom, the clergy of the church of England 
 see its daily verification. 
 
 As the providence of God for the most part ef- 
 fects its purposes by secondary causes, the charity 
 of the church is the means which it hath appointed
 
 368 Anniversary Sermon [BISHOP 
 
 for the relief of her suffering ministers. The same 
 authority which commands us to be ready to forego 
 the enjoyments of the world, hath commanded that 
 the faithful bear one another's burdens. The same 
 authority which promises the faithful minister sup- 
 port in this world and enjoyment in the next, pro- 
 mises an equal weight of glory to him who shall 
 administer relief. Relying on these promises, se- 
 cure of our unwearied attention to the commands 
 of our invisible but not absent Lord, our departed 
 brethren (not insensibb in death to that concern for 
 their surviving families which they knew to be 
 sanctified by Christ's own example, when in his 
 agonies he consigned his mother to his favourite 
 disciple's care,) submitted with composure and com- 
 placency to the stroke which severed them from all 
 which in this world they held dear ; trusting to us, 
 as to God's instruments, for the support of their un- 
 provided families, destitute of other aid. Thus we 
 who remain are the guardians of the widows and the 
 orphans ; appointed to that sacred office by no vio- 
 lable testaments of mortal men, but by the inviolable 
 will of the Ever-living God. Let us see that \ve be 
 faithful, as the deceased were in their day, to a 
 trust which we may not decline ; looking forward to 
 the joys of that great day when tears shall be 
 wiped from every eye, and " he that hath received 
 a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a 
 prophet's reward," when his recompense in no- 
 wise shall be lost " who shall have given but a cup 
 of cold water only to one of these little ones in the
 
 IIOHSLEY.] for the Sons of the Clergy. 369 
 
 name of a disciple." In that day shall these sons 
 and daughters of the prophets be gathered round 
 the Son of Man, seated on his throne of glory ; and, 
 in the presence of the angelic host, bear their testi- 
 mony to this day's work of love. What, then, shall 
 be the joy of those to whom the King shall say, 
 " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; I was 
 thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; naked, and ye clothed 
 me ; sick, and ye nursed me. Verily, I say unto 
 you, as much as ye have done it to the least of 
 these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Come, 
 ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
 pared from the beginning of the world ! " O rich 
 requital of an easy service ! love the duty ; heaven 
 the reward 1 Who will not strive to be foremost to 
 minister to the necessities of the saints ; secure of 
 being doubly repaid, here, in the delight of doing 
 good; hereafter, in a share of this glorious bene- 
 diction ! 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 LONDON : 
 
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