YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

ACQUIRED BY EXCHANGE

SERMONS,

ON

VARIOUS SUBJECTS

BY THE LATE
RICHARD PRICE, D.D. F.R.S.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES,- ORME, AND BROWN,
PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1816.

P33I 1^ IG

PrinteclbyA. S«ah&n,
New-Stieet-Square, London.

PREFACE.

nPHE following Sermons have been selected
from the great number which Dr. Price
had left behind hira, as well on account of the
subjects of which they treat, as of the candid
and liberal spirit which is displayed in every
sentence of them. On the doctrmal parts of
the Christian religion, many and very opposite
opinions are entertained; but it is hardly pos
sible that there should be any difference of
opinion on the great and important truths con-
tained in the moral precepts of the gospel.
On these, all persons of every persuasion must
agree; and in the following discourses, which
are wholly intended to enforce the practice of
those precepts, I am not aware that any senti
ment will be found which can afford matter
A 2

iv PREFACE.
for controversy, or be rejected from the creed
of any one who believes that a virtuous con
duct is necessary to secure the approbation of
his Maker.
Having, in a late publication, endeavoured
to give an account of all that was most im
portant in the life and writings of the Author,
it will be unnecessary here to enter into the
farther discussion of them. Of the many
virtues which adorned and dignified his cha
racter, none shine more conspicuously in these
Sermons, than his candor, benevolence, and
piety. The same gentleness of spirit which
regulated every action of his life, is here dis
played with peculiar grace ; and happy would
it be for the world, if the like spirit tempered
the zeal of all the professors of religion.
I have only to observe farther, that these
Sermons have been copied literally from
Dr. Price's manuscripts, and that it is proba
ble, had he lived to have published them him
self, that they would have undergone many

PREFACE. V
corrections and additions. These I have
neither attempted, nor thought myself capa
ble of performing. Nevertheless, though the
evil could not be remedied, I did not think it
of sufficient magnitude to prevent this publi
cation ; being convinced that a few defects
will be much more than compensated by
the general excellence of these Sermons, and
by the honest warmth and energy with which
the great truths they contain are recommend
ed and enforced. W.M.

A 3

Lately published,
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF DR. PRICE,
By WILLIAM MORGAN, F.R.S,

CONTENTS.

SERMON I.
ON THE CHARACTER OF THE APOSTLES AND FIEST
DISCIPLES OF CHRIST, AND THE WISDOM OF PRE
FERRING THEM TO THE MORE WEALTHY AND
LEARNED MEN OF THE WORLD IN PROPAGATING
HIS RELIGION. Matthew, xi. 25.
At that time Jesus answered and said : I thank thee, 0 Father
qf heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from
the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.
Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight Page 1
SERMON IL
ANALOGY BETWEEN OUR PRESENT STATE AND A STATE
OF CHILDHOOD.
1 Corinthians, xiii. II.
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a
child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I
put away childish things . • . . 30

Vlll CONTENTS.
SERMON IIL
ON THE GREATER IMPORTANCE OF EIGHT PRACTICE
THAN OF A SOUND FAITH IN RELIGION.
Matthew, vii. 21.
Not eveiy one that saith to me. Lord, Lord, shall enter into
the kingdom of heaven ; hut he that doth the will qf my
Father who is in heaven. Many will say unto me in that
day. Lord, Ijord, have we not prophesied in thy name ?
And in thy na'nie done many wonderful works ? And then
will I profess unto them, I never knew you, — depart from
me ye that work iniquity . . . Page 51
SERMON IV.
Matthew, vii. 21.
Not every one that saith to me. Lord, Lord, shall enter
into, SfC SfC. . . . . .'71
SERMON V.
ON CONTENTMENT.
Phil. iv. 2.
/ have leamed, in whatever state Iam, therewith to he con
tent . . . . . ,88
SERMON VL
ON THE OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.
Jeremiah, xxii. 24.
Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him ?'
saith tlie Lord. Do not I fill heaven and earth ? saith the
^""-^ • .. , . . . 108

CONTENTS. IX
SERMON VIL
ON SELF-EXAMINATION.
Psalm cxxxix. 23, 24.
Search me, O God, and krum my hearts try 'fie and know my
thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and
lead me in the way everlasting . . Page 129
SERMON VIIL
ON HAVING OUR REJOICING IN OURSELVES.
GalAT. vi. 4.
But let every man prove his own work, and then shall he havc
rejoicing in himself alone, and not in another . .146
SERMON IX.
ON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN, AND THE PROPER
IMPROVEMENT OF IT.
Job, viii. 9.
For we are but qf yesterday, and know nothing . 164
SERMON X.
ON HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS. Heb. xi. 16.
Bia now fhey desire a hetter, that is an heavenly country i85

X CONTENTS.
SERMON XL
ON SPIRITUAL, OR INWARD LIBERTY.
2 Peter, ii. 1^.
WhUe they promise them liberty, they themselves are the
servants qf corruption ; for qf whom a man is overcome, qf
the same is he brought in bondage t Page 205
SERMON XIL
trust in god, the best support of the
righteous under afflictions.
Isaiah, 1. 10.
Who is among you that feareth the Lord, and obeyeth the voice
qf his servant, that walketh in darkness and hath no light ;
let him trust in the name qf the Lord, and stay upon his
God .... . . 226
SERMON XIIL
ON THE NATURE OP TRUE RIGHTEOUSNESS.
Matthew, xxv. 46.
And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the
righteous into life eternal . . , 246
SERMON XIV.
ON THE EVIL OF SIN.
Proverbs, xiv. 9.
Fools make a mock at sin , , ^ 2S7

CONTENTS. XI
SERMON XV.
ON THE EVIL OF SIN.
Proverbs, xiv. 9.
" Fools make a mock at sin" . . Page 281
SERMON XVI.
ON THE ETERNAL HAPPINESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS IN
A FUTURE STATE.
1 John, ii. 25.
" And this is the promise that he has promised, even Etemal
Life" ...... 301
SERMON XVIL
ON THE ETERNAL, AND ETERNALLY-IMPROVING HAP
PINESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS IN A FUTURE STATE.
1 John, ii. 25.
^ And this is the promise that he hath promised, even Eternal
Life' ..... 321
SERMON XVIIL
ON THE DUTY OF GIVING GLORY TO GOD.
1 Cor. X. 31.
Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do att
totheGloryofGod . . . .341

Xll CONTENTS.
SERMON XIX.
on the duty of imitating god.
Matthew, v. 48.
"Be ye therefore perfect as your Father who is in Heaven is
perfect" .... Page 363
SERMON XX.
ON THE FUTURE INHERITANCE OF THE RIGHTEOUS.
Rev. xxi. 7.
" He that overcometh shall inherit all things" . 383

SERMON I.

ON THE CHARACTER OF THE APOSTLES AND FIRST
DISCIPLES OF CHRIST, AND THE WISDOM OF
PREFERRING THEM TO THE MORE WEALTHY
AND LEARNED MEN OF THE WORLD IN PROPA-*
GATING HIS RELIGION.

Mathew, xi. 25.
At that time Jesus answered and said: I thank
thee, 0 Father of heaven and earth, because
thou hast hid these things from the wise and
prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.
Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in
thy sight.
THESE words are remarkable and strik
ing. In discoursing on them, my inten
tion is, 1st, to shew you who are meant in
them by the wise and prudent as opposed to
babes ; and 2dly, to enquire upon what par
ticular reasons the thanksgiving addressed by

2
9Ur Lord on this occasion to the Deity is
founded. In order to understand the opposite cha
racters here meant by the wise and prudent
and babes, it is necessary to consider the oc
casion on which these words were spoken.
They were uttered by our Lord, on hearing
the report which the seventy disciples made
to him of their success in preaching the gos
pel. In that hour St. Luke tells us, that is,
on hearing their report, he said, " I beheld
Satan fall down like lightning from heaven,"
and then broke forth into this acknowledge
ment of the wisdom of God, in using such in
struments as his apostles and first disciples
were, in propagating Christianity, and in re
vealing the mysteries of the kingdom of hea
ven to babes, that is to such plain men as his
apostles were, rather than to the wise and
prudent; that is rather than to any persons of
more learning and higher rank.
The wisdom ofthis appointment will appear
from the following considerations: in the
first place, such raen as our Lord's apostles
and first disciples were likely to be free from
all the prejudices of the wise and learned, and

therefore would necessarily be more open to
instruction, and less in danger of mixing any
thing foreign and corrupt with the Christian
doctrine. The apostles were indeed deeply
tinctured with the coraraon prejudices of the
Jews about the nature of the Messiah's king
dom, nor was it possible for them to escape
ihese. But as they were plain and artless
men, it was possible gradually to set them
right, and to bring them to a reception of the
naked facts of Christianity. This could not
have been so well done had they been men
of education and learning. Such men would
have been often disputing and cavilling. They
would have been starting many objections,
suggested by false science. They would have
stuck more obstinately to their prejudices, be
cause more conceited, and they would have
endeavoured to bring Christianity to a con
formity to their own ideas and notions. In
short, the minds of such men, being fuller of
false maxims, would have made more opposi
tion to the gospel, and rendered an adultera
tion of it less possible to be avoided. Sup
pose, for instance, that instead of such plain
and unlearned persons as the apostles, a
number of learned scribes and pharisees had
been chosen to be our Lord's attendants and
B 2

the preachers of his gospel ; how difficult
would it have been to engage them to follow
Jesus amidst poverty and reproach? How
backward would they have been in giving up
the traditions of the elders and all their pre
conceived notions? How apt would they have
been to colour over the truths of the gospel
in such a manner as might render thera raore
conforraable to their own prejudices and less
offensive to the taste of mankind; and with
what invincible aversion would they have con
sidered particularly the doctrine of a suffering
and crucified Messiah ?
The like raay be said, supposing a number
of sage philosophers or learned Platonists had
been eraployed in the office and duty of
Christ's apostles. These would have expect
ed nice metaphysical theories and subtle spe
culations in Christianity. They would have
been under teraptation to introduce into it the
wisdom they had learned in their schools.
Its genuine doctrine would have appeared
foolishness to them, and it would have been
scarcely possible for them to receive and teach
it without corrupting it. What I am now ob
serving, experience has proved to be true. It
is well known, that in the first centuries after
4

the establishment of Christianity, the intro
duction of the Grecian and Roraan learning
into it was the raeans of soon corrupting it.
The persons who were brought over to it
from the schools of the philosophers imported
with them the philosophical speculations to
which they had been accustoraed, and, in con
sequence of this, they blended with it many
unintelligible principles, and at last made it
nothing but a subject for controversy and a
heap of scholastic jargon, instead of a bond of
charity, and a systera of plain precepts and
facts. Such observations as these have, I
acknowledge, a tendency to sink huraan learn
ing in our esteera. But it should be reraera
bered, that it is the learning of the tiraes
of the apostles that I have chiefly in view.
This was indeed, for the most part, but little
better than deep-rooted prejudice and osten
tatious ignorance. St. Paul speaks ofit under
the titles of science falsely so called, and a wis
dom of words ; and he has observed very
strongly, " that it was necessary that those
who possessed it should throw it off, in order
to become truly wise." 1 Cor. xiii. 18. Let no
one, says he, deceive himself. If any man
among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let
him become a fool that he may be wise, for the
B 3

6
wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.
It is easy to see that it is raore desirable to be
quite plain and uncultivated as the apostles
were, than possessed of such learning. A
rude and plain raan, who is at the same tirae
sincere and honest, is infinitely better pre
pared for instruction, and more likely to re
ceive truth, and to hold it untainted, than a
man who is fraught with false speculations,
and arraed against truth by false learning.
There is the sarae difference between these
two raen, as there is between a sound eye and
an eye that has a disorder in it. The former
will easily admit the light, and convey just
impressions from external objects; but the
latter will either admit no light, or tincture it
with false colours. I will venture to add, that
this is true not only of the learning of the
times ofthe apostles, but also in some raea
sure of the learning of all tiraes. A great
deal of the learning of the world has always
been a mere wisdom of words, or a specious
sophistry, which has served no other end than
to blind the mind more, and to set it at a
greater distance from real wisdom. The
teachings in schools and universities have
commonly been, not an opening of the mind,
or a preparation of it for free and successful

enquiries into truth, but a contraction of the
mind, the instiling of falsehood and nonsense
into it, and the furnishing it with skill and re
solution to support them. Such has human
learning been, and such it still is too rauch.
But mistake me not. It is far from ray
intention to depreciate learning in general.
True learning, or real knowledge, is without
doubt a noble and divine talent. It is one of
the raind's chief excellencies, and life's chief
ornament and blessing; nor is it possible that
we should take too much pains to iraprove
in it. But that learning of which it has been
most usual to boast, and which hitherto has
been most valued and taught, is what I have
been describing; — the corruption ofthe mind,
and not its iraproveraent, — an increase of
its darkness and prejudices, and not the re
moval of them.
A little discernraent will, shew us, that even
in the present age there are not any errors
more strange, or any prejudices more pitiful
and unconquerable, than those of several learn
ed men; and, for my own part, were it offered
to my choice, whether I would have the void
mind of a common, but honest man of plain
B 4

8
sense, or a mind like to that of many a deep
professor of human learning: — were this, I
say, offered to my choice, I should, I hope,
without hesitation prefer the former.
Our blessed Saviour seems plainly to have
entertained sentiments of this kind, and to
have been led by thera to chuse a number
of unlettered raen, rather than any of the
wise and prudent, for the purpose of receiving
instructions in his gospel, and teaching it to
raankind. There can, therefore, be no reason for won
dering at his conduct in this respect. There
is no person who, were he to chuse one to
whom he would convey instruction on any
point, would not chuse one who knew nothing
bf the point, rather than one whose ideas
and opinions lie against it. Were he, for
instance, to chuse one whora he would instruct
in the true system of the world according to
the modern discoveries, he would sooner
chuse one who was a stranger to philosophy,
than one who had deeply imbibed a false
philosophy, and was skilled in all the me
thods of defending it. The former would
have nothing to do but to learn and improve :

the latter, on the contrary would have a great
deal to unlearn, and it would be necessary
to empty and to alter his whole mind be
fore he could be made a proper subject for
instruction, or a proper receptacle for truth.
But there 's another observation that de
serves here to be mentioned, in order to shew
the wisdom of Christ in the choice of his
apostles. It should be reraerabered, that it
was necessary that the persons whom our
Lord chose to propagate his gospel should
attend hira constantly, during the time of his
public ministry. Without this they could
not be duly prepared for their office, or be
proper witnesses of those grand facts of Chris
tianity which it was to be their chief business
to declare to the world. Now let any one
think whether a number of learned scribes
would have been so subject to restraint as the
apostles were, so likely to follow Christ
quietly and patiently for years, in the midst
of difficulties, and so capable of being held in
suspense with respect to the temporal king
dom ofthe Messiah, and of bearing to be at
last disappointed in their expectations.
Nothing is plainer than the reverse.

10
We find, that it was not always easy to
keep even the Apostles within due bounds.
They often wanted to engage our Lord to set
up his standard as the great prince and con
queror they expected in the Messiah. They
seem once to have concurred with the raulti
tude, in endeavouring to force hira to this ;
and one of thera at last grew so weary of his
master's delays, that he took the method of
betraying him into the hands of his enemies,
in order to put hira under a necessity of
either erecting his kingdom imraediately, or
consenting to be crushed and ruined. It is
evident, that raen of rank and learning would
have been rauch more prone to such conduct.
They would have been more ambitious and
more enterpriziug. They would have been
continually counteracting our Lord, and in
terrupting him in his ministry, by publishing
his real character to the world, and en
couraging insurrection in his favour. In a
word, it would have been either not possible
to keep them in that inaction with respect to
the temporal kingdora of the Messiah, which
was necessary, or they would have been of
fended in our Lord, and soon forsaken hira.
But there still remain some more observa-

11
tions, which are necessary to be attended to,
in order to have a full view ofthe wisdom of
Christ, in prefering the unlearned to the
learned in the choice of his Apostlies. It
should be considered particularly, how rauch
stronger the evidences of Christianity are ren
dered in consequence of this, than they could
have otherwise been. There is scarcely an
arguraent for Christianity which does not re
ceive additional strength frora the considera
tion of the meanness of the instruments by
which it was established in the world. Had
the wise and the prudent been eraployed to
preach it, there would have been roora for
saying, that it made its way by their address
and eloquence ; or, that it was a trick of state,
or contrivance of worldly policy, — and the
history of our Saviour, instead of being a
plain and simple narrative, would probably
have been written with eloquence, and drest
up in ornament. The consequence of which
would have been, the loss of one of the
strongest proofs of its truth. But there has
been no foundation left for any objections and
inconveniencies ofthis kind.
Though the excellent raoral precepts and
doctrines of Christianity m^t corae from

12

men of learning without supernatural aid, yet
it is very unlikely that they should come from
such men as the Apostles without such aid.
Though it could be supposed, that a character
so wonderful, so peculiar, and so well sup
ported, as that of our Saviour, raight be in
vented by the wise and the prudent, yet cer
tainly it could not be invented by the igno
rant and illiterate. The conversion of ray
riads of mankind to Christianity, in a few
years, in opposition to all the powers of the
world, by a set of poor mechanics and fisher
raen, without craft or force: — This is an un
doubted fact, which contains an arguraent for
Christianity of irresistible weight. But it is
plain that it would have had no weight, had
the Apostles been men of rank, or superior
knowledge and learning. What I am now
observing, St. Paul had plainly in view, when
he said, 1 Cor. i. 27, ''that God had chosen the
foolish things ofthe world to confound the wise;
the weak things of the world to confound the
mighty, and things which are not, to bring to
nought things that are.'" The reason of which
he intimates was, that the faith of Christians
raight stand on the power of God, and not
the wisdom of men ; or, as he elsewhere says,
the treasure of the gospel 'was put into

13
earthen vessels, that the excellence of the
power might be of God, and not of men.
2 Cor. iv. 7.
Upon the whole, an attentive person can
not, I think, but be engaged by all that has
been said to admire that part of the conduct
of Providence, with respect to the establish
ment of Christianity which I have been con
sidering. Justly, indeed, might our Lord
bless God on that account, and ascribe glory
to him for his wisdom in revealing the gospel
to such babes as the Apostles, and employing
thera to convey its truths and facts to the
world, rather than any of the wise and the
learned. But there is reason to think, that what I
have hitherto insisted upon, is not all that
our Lord had in view in the words I ara con
sidering. By the wise and the prudent, he
meant not merely such as possessed the wis
dom and learning of the tiraes, but also the
men who were proud and conceited on that
account, and under the influence of those
vices which are sometimes united to wit and
learning. By babes, on the contrary, it is
evident, that he meant not merely persons

14
destitute of the wisdom ofthis world, but also
the meek, the modest, and hurable ; or men,
who at the same time that they knew little of
the learning of the tiraes, possessed sira
plicity, honesty, and teachableness. He in
tended, therefore, in this passage, further to
praise God for so ordering the constitution of
his government, as that the siraple and lowly,
though unlearned, should be raore likely to
see the light of truth, and to receive his gos
pel, than any of the wise doctors and proud
sophists of the world. He did not raean to
prefer ignorance to true knowledge, or a weak
to a sound judgraent. It would be in the
highest degree unreasonable to suppose this.
But his intention was to express a preference
of honesty and siraplicity without learning,
to learning without honesty and simplicity ;
or, in general, to intimate this very important
truth, that the best qualification for religious
instruction, and our best recommendation to
the enlightening influence ofthe Deity, is an
upright and humble teraper, free from the
pride and learning, and the sinister views of
ambition. That our Lord meant persons of this temper
by babes, is plain, from Math, xviii. 1, 2, 3,

15
where we are told, that on occasion of a dis
pute between his disciples about the greatest
places in his kingdom, he calle4 a child to
him, and after placing him in the midst of
them, said, " Except ye be converted, and be
come as little children, ye shall not enter into
the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever, therefore,
shall humble himself, and become as this little
child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of
heaven ;" that is, except you divest yourselves
of ambition, and becorae like little children,
in an unaffected lowliness and docility, you
will have no share in the advantages of the
Messiah's kingdom.
Our Lord, during his public ministry,
always gave the preference to men of this
child-like character. He encouraged and re
ceived them, while he rejected the learned
Scribes and Pharisees. These were the per
sons whom he meant by his sheep, who would
hear his voice, and come to hira. It was be
cause his apostles were in this sense babes,
that he told them. Math. xiii. 11, "that to
them it was given to know the mysteries of
the kingdom of heaven." There is nothing
indeed that prepares us more for the recep
tion of truth than an honest simplicity. The

16
man who has this, be his parts ever so raean,
is more valuable in the sight of heaven than
the greates%.scholar or philosopher who is full
of his own wisdom. He has, in the probity
of his mind, and plain coraraon sense, a surer
guide to truth than all the learning in the
world ; the effect of which has often been to
confound and debauch the raind. One honest
and candid disposition is infinitely preferable
to the greatest stores of wit and literature,
and recoraraends us raore to the Deity.
What I am now saying, suggests to us two
reasons why such persons as our Lord calls
babes shall understand religious truth, while
those whom he calls the wise and prudent
shall remain in darkness. 1st, The natural
tendency of things renders this likely. The
man of plain sense and humble dispositions,
has less in hira to obstruct the entrance of
truth. He is more teachable, more willing
to hearken to instruction, and more open to
conviction. He has fewer errors and preju
dices to give up. His understanding is raore
free frora the influence of bHnding passions,
and therefore raore likely to be clear and
sound. In the 2d place, this raan possesses
particular security from the favor of God.

17
The candour and docility of his mind not
only gives it a particular aptness to discern
truth, and render the way easy for the intro
duction of truth into it, but also to draw into
it heavenly illuminations. In consequence,
therefore, of the righteous judgment of God,
as well as the necessary nature of things, this
man may expect that iraportant truths shall
be discovered to him, while they continue hid
frora the wise and prudent. Those who will
not hurable theraselves, and becorae as little
children, in seeking wisdom, cannot possibly
attain to it. God pours contempt on what
vain men reckon their superior knowledge,
and he often sees fit to punish the arrogance
of proud sophists, by suffering them to plunge
further and further into error, till they lose
entirely the light of truth. He takes delight
in setting up those that are low, but the under
standing of the 'prudent he brings to nothing,
and the wise he takes in their own craftiness.
1 Cor. i. 19.
A simple spirit is our chief excellence, and
it is this, chiefly, that gives to one human
being a preference to another in his estima
tion. He feeds the hungry with good things,
but the rich he sends empty dway. The

18
weak will he guide in judgment, and to the
upright will he teach his way. None of the
wicked shall understand, but the wise shall un
derstand. Dan. xii. 10.
We cannot but be sensible of the depend
ance of our minds upon the Deity for the dis
covery of truth, and the acquisition of wisdom.
We cannot, therefore, be too anxious about
bringing them under his favourable influence,
by emptying them of all self conceit, and
establishing in them a sincere affection to
truth, and a readiness to entertain it where
soever it can be found. The conduct of
Divine Providence, in the first establishraent
of Christianity, affords one remarkable in
stance of the peculiar favour shewn by
heaven to plain and siraple raen, in the com
munication of religious instruction. Such
were the men who at first were brought over
to Christianity, and not the learned doctors,
or sagacious politicians of the tiraes. To
the poor, our Lord tells us, the gospel was
preached. — God chose the poor of this world,
St. James says, rich in faith, and heirs of the
kingdom which he hath promised to those who
love him.

19
Not many wise men after the flesh, — not
many mighty ,^ — not many noble were called.
Indeed it was happy for Christianity that
many of these did not at first erabrace it.
For had this happened, it would have lost its
purity rauch sooner than it did ; and it would
not have been easy (as hath been already ob
served) to prove, that it made its way by
supernatural aid, and not by human power
and policy. This very fact, however, or the
general unbelief of the wise and prudent of
this world, in the first ages, has been turned
into an objection against Christianity ; and it
is very remarkable, that we find Christ, in my
text, glorying in the very circumstance which
some have considered as dishonourable to his
gospel. How much reason Christ had for
this, has, I hope, appeared sufficiently from
what I have been saying.
Those whom he means by babes, were much
better prepared for his religion than those
were, whom he means by the wise and pru
dent. The latter could not receive it without
laying down at the feet of Jesus those theo
ries and speculations in which they prided
themselves, — without renouncing all that ima
ginary wisdom, which they highly valued, and
c 2

20
accounting (like St. Paul) what they had
before learned, " loss and dung, for the excel
lence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus :" It
was not possible that a. doctrine, so plain and
simple as that of the gospel, should easily
gain the approbation of the self-sufficient
scribe, or the sophistical disputer of this
world. Salvation, through a crucified Messiah, was
necessarily to the Jews a stumbling-block,
and to the Greeks foolishness. No one, who
considers things properly, will think this to
be any just objection to Christianity. Truth
must be more unlikely to be received by the
falsely learned, than by any persons. Their
pride makes them less willing to be instructed,
and the arts of disputation which they have
learned, raake thera more capable of evading
evidence, and less ready to yield to it. Let
us suppose, that instead of religious know
ledge, Christianity had coraraunicated to the
world a system of philosophy, contrary to
that which was coraraonly received at the
tirae of our Saviour. Let us, for instance,
suppose that Christ and his apostles hadgone
about preaching the true Copemican system
of the world. .In that case, I am persuaded.

21
that whatever credentials they carried with
thera, they would have been treated every
where with conterapt. The doctrine, that the
sun was in the centre of the world, and that the
earth and planets moved round him, would
have been heard with as much prejudice as
Christ's cross was. But what I mean to ob
serve chiefly, is, that this would have been
particularly the case with the learned of the
time. Plain men being more hurable and
teachable, would have sooner laid down their
prejudices ; but the learned would have re
ceived with sovereign disdain such informa
tion. They would have looked down with
derision on the atterapts of such people as the
apostles, to instruct them. They stood guard
ed against the approaches of truth, by a false
wisdom. They had entrenched themselves in
subtle theories and hypotheses ; and invented
cycles and epicycles, by which they could ex
plain all the heavenly motions, and answer all
objections. Their resistance, therefore, to
Christianity, had it taught the true philoso
phy instead of the true religion, would have
been greater than that of any other men ;
and, most probably, they would have been the
last who would have embraced it. These ob
servations shew us, that we need not wonder
c 3

22
that raany of those whom our Lord means by
the wise and prudent, did not at first corae
over to Christianity. Real knowledge is al
ways a step to further knowledge, and a pre
paration for further light ; but false know
ledge of every kind, especially if it is accora
panied (as it generally is) with conceit and
self-sufficiency, turns the rainds of those who
have it, raore aside frora truth, and renders
them less susceptible of instruction and ira
provement than any persons.
What I have now said has gone on the
supposition, that few or none of the wise and
learned, embraced the gospel at the tirae of
its first establishraent. This, however, is not
true in the sense and degree in which sorae
raay be willing to think. Several persons of
improved talents, and ih the higher situations
of life, were converted to Christianity by the
preaching of the apostles. It would be easy
to shew this, by an enumeration of instances ;
but it is time for me to proceed to some re
flections which offer theraselves, and with
which I shall close the present subject.
In the first place, what I have been saying
should teach caution to those who think them-

23
selves wise and prudent. .They should be
very careful, lest what they call their learn
ing, should be nothing but delusion, and
prove the means of entangling them in worse
prejudices than those to which other men are
subject. This has, undoubtedly, been the case
with a great deal that has been admired in
the world, under the name of learning ; and
it is most melancholy to consider, how raany
of the laboured systeras, which have pre
vailed in different ages, have been all drearas;
and how frequently learned men, when they
have been triuraphing in their superior light
and sagacity, have been only enjoying the
paradise of fools. It is remarkable, what con
tempt our Lord poured on the wisdom of this
world, by chusing such men as the apostles
to instruct mankind in the truths of Chris
tianity ; and by calling into his church the
poor, while he rejected the wise and prudent.
It becomes us then to be upon our guard, re
membering what danger there is ; that while
we are labouring to furnish our minds with
science, we may be stuffing them with pride
and falsehood, and prejudice. It raust, how
ever, be acknowledged^ that after our utmost
care, we shall be in danger of having a great
deal ofthe light that is in us darkness. There
c 4

24
is 'no security to be obtained by any human
beins against mistakes. In these circum-
stances, it is comfortable to reflect, that if we
keep ourselves humble and upright, no mis
takes into which we raay fall, will prove of
any fatal consequence to us.
The great evil of false wisdora, is its filling
the mind with conceit, and arrogance, and
prejudice. It is not so much simple error
that can hurt us, as error accompanied with
these dispositions, and thus rendering us in
capable of instruction, and inaccessible to
truth. Let us then endeavour, as much as
we can, to avoid error, and to erapty our
minds of all false knowledge. But as we
cannot hope to do this effectually ; and as,
possibly, our most favourite opinions are not
right, let us above all things labour to acquire
humility and probity ; and to maintain a sense
ofour own fallibility, and a diffidence with
respect to our opinions. This will prevent all
the bad effects of error on our minds. Had
the learned of our Saviour's time done this,
they would not have rejected Christianity,
and lost its inconceivable advantages. Though
we cannot be infallible, we may be honest.
We may preserve free and candid minds.

25
We may be teachable, and open to convic
tion, and always ready to hearken to evi
dence and information, from whatever quarter
they may corae. If this is our teraper and
character, we possess the favour ofthe Deity,
and whether learned or unlearned, we are of
the number of those babes whom Christ ap
proves and loves ; and who are, by far, the
most valuable and worthy part of mankind.
But this leads me to desire you to reflect, par
ticularly on this occasion, on the great im
portance of humility and siraplicity. He
that possesses these, be his erudition ever so
small, may hope that (while the wise and
learned are, perhaps, plunging deeper and
deeper into darkness) he shall be led into all
necessary truth. Were Christ now in the
world to teach mankind, persons of this cha
racter would be chosen by him to be his dis
ciples in preference to any other persons. He
that feels most his own darkness is likely to
receive most light. He who thinks he knows
little is in the way to attain the greatest real
knowledge. Our Lord's general maxim holds
here as well as in numberless other instances.
" He that humbleih himself shall be exalted, and
he that exalteth himself shall be abased." The
world is apt to entertain high sentiraents of

26
the superiority of men of sense and learning,
and these sentiments have a just and proper
foundation. True science is a noble and di
vine thing ; but we should never forget that
there is one thing infinitely more noble, and
that is, that siraplicity and docility of dispo
sition which I have been speaking of, and
which will constitute us babes in Christ's
sense. This is our chief glory and truest or
nament. Without this our wisdom will be
folly, and our knowledge a curse. There is,
without doubt,no inconsistence between these,
though they are very often separated. The
best disposition of heart may be joined to
the richest furniture in the head. We may
be children in respect of modesty, and lowli
ness, and teachableness, and yet men in un
derstanding. We may be knowing and learn
ed in the highest degree, and at the same
tirae humble, meek, candid, and void of guile
and prejudice. Indeed, where there is the
truest wisdora there will be the raost of these
qualities; nor is any learning worth the wishing
for, which has not a tendency to promote
and improve thera. It is only that spurious
wisdora or science, falsely so called, which
our Lord had in view in ray text, that raakes
men vain, and arrogant, and dogmatical. As

27
far as any learning has this effect it only
renders a person more contemptible. But
superior knowledge joined to superior can
dors—the guileless siraplicity of a child united
to a real iraproveraent of the faculties by
learning — this forins a character corapletely
excellent and great. On the contrary, false
learning joined to ostentation and vanity — a
wisdom that is nothing but folly, and that
at the same time puffs up with pride, and pro
duces a contempt for instruction; — this is
truly one of the most laraentable objects that
we can think of Wheresoever there is such
wisdora, there is an incapacity for all iraprove
ment, and an end of trne wisdora. Such were
the wise and prudent to whom our Lord re
fers in my text. Such were the scribes and
pharisees, and in general the learned among
.lews and heathens. What advantages .were
they deprived of by these prejudices, which
caused them to be offended with our Saviour,
and to reject without examination his gospel ?
Let us take care that similar prejudices do not
in like manner mislead us, by causing us to
reject, without proper examination, any infor
mation that can be offered to us. Let us be
ready tp give a due hearing to all evidence,
howsoever contrary it may be to our precon-

28
ceived notions, and dread the thoughts of
acting as if we were so wise as to need no
further instruction. It is a general rule of
God's government, that it is by humbling our
selves that we shall rise and iraprove.
Blessed are all who love truth above all
things, and are willing to embrace and follow
it wherever they can find it. Blessed are all
who have cleared their minds of arabition
and pride and criminal prejudices : who are
thoroughly sensible of their own darkness,
who seek truth with the simplicity of chil
dren, and are inclined to receive with thank
fulness every help in discovering it; who lay
themselves down as learners at the feet of
Jesus, wishing for nothing but that they raay
be led to know and do the will of God.
These are Christ's babes, and so fit is it that
they should be favoured preferably to others
— so much superior subjects for instruction
are they, and so much fitter receptacles for
truth, that we may well join with our Lord in
ascribing glory to God for so ordering the
constitution of things, as that those should
corae at the knowledge of truth, and know of
Christ's doctrine whether it be of God, while
the wise and the prudent,- the men whd

29

value themselves on their sagacity and learn
ing, but want true candour and simplicity,
s'hall remain destitute of true wisdom, and
sink deeper into error and prejudice.

30

SERMON II.

ANALOGY BETWEEN OUR PRESENT STATE AND A
STATE OF CHILDHOOD.

1 Corinthians, xiii. 11.
When I zaas a child, I spoke as a child, I
understood as a child, I thought as a child.
But when I became a man, I put away
childish things.
T SCARCELY need tell you, that the apos-
-*¦ tie in these words speaks of our con
dition now, corapared with our condition
hereafter, and that they are intended to
represent the difference between these two
conditions as sirailar to the difference between
the condition of a child and that of a grown
man. They might, I believe, have been
better translated in the following raanner :
« When I was a child, I spoke as a child,
I was affected as a child, I reasoned as a child;
but when I became a man, I put away what

31
is childish." The apostle imraediately adds
in the next verse — " For now we see through
a glass darkly ; but then we shall see face to
face." These words, likewise, seera not to be
correctly translated ; for, in the tirae of the
apostles, dioptric glasses (that is, glasses for
the purpose of helping the sight, by looking
through them at distant objects)' were not in
vented. The glass, therefore, meant in these
words is a mirror, in which we see the images
of objects by a reflection of the rays of light;
and they might have been rendered; " Now
we see in an obscure manner as by means of
a rairror, but then we shall see face to face ;"
that is, " we shall then look at the objects
themselves, and not at those images, as we
do when we look at an object in a mirror."
He goes on; — " now I know in part, but
then I shall know as I am known; and now
abideth faith, hope, and charity, — these
three; but the greatest of these three is
charity." The original word translated cha
rity in the New Testament, almost every where
signifies the same with the word love or bene
volence in our language; and it would have
been better to have translated it thus, and
then these last words would have run thus: —
" and now abide ^ faith, hope, love^ — these

32
three; but the greatest of these is love." This
is a charraing passage; but ray present inten
tion is only to take notice of that part of it,
in which our present and future state are
corapared to a state of childhood and a state
of raanhood  " When I was a child, I spoke
as a child, I was affected as a child, I reason
ed as a child ; but when I becarae a raan I
put away childish things."
In speaking on these words, I shall endea
vour to shew you, in a few particulars, how
our present state answers to this account of it,
or to trace the analogy between it and a state
of childhood.
In a more loose way I might, on this sub
ject, observe to you, that our pursuits, our
cares, our sorrows, and our joys, are too often
like those of children, low, trifling, and frivo
lous. Were we properly affected and inform
ed, we should pursue nothing eagerly but vir
tue. We should be anxious about nothing,^
but acting well the part assigned us in life,
and we should place our chief happiness, and
found our chief joy in doing our duty, and
obeying our Maker: for nothing else bemg
very important to us, it is in this that all our

S3
tjares, and fears, and pursuits ought to centre.
But how far is this frora being the general
temper of raankind? How childish are they
in their sentiraents and conduct ? raistaking
continually falshood for sacred truth — pur
suing shadows as if they were realities, and
prefering what is shewy to what is solid and
eternal? Where can we find true raanliness
and integrity — a steadiness not to be shaken
by low passions — a love of truth, not to be
warped by silly prejudices, and an elevation
of mind, not to be depressed by the tempt
ations and trials of this world?
Children aro apt to be wayward, and fickle,
and capricious, — one moraent displeased with
what the raoraent before they adraired, — de
lighted with toys, and grieving when a foolish
fancy cannot be gratified. Such is also the case
with raen ; nor can I view a courtier, who sets his
heart upon a ribband, in any higher light than
I do a child who cries for a trinket, or is proud
of his fine cloaths. What ideas may we sup
pose, do superior beings entertain of us?
How childish must they think us? How ab
surd, and contemptible do most of our joys,
and fears, and employments appear to them?
Jn their eyes we never appear respectable, ex-
P

34
cept when we govern an irregular passion,
utter an hurable prayer, relieve the wants of a
fellow-creature, or in any other instance exer
cise a virtuous disposition. Our levities and
inconstancies, our variable and peevish hu
mours, our groundless attachments, our un
reasonable prejudices and gross mistakes, all
shew our weakness, and prove us to be in the
infancy of our existence. " We speak as chil
dren — we think as children — we reason as
children." But it will be proper to explain this sub
ject raore distinctly, and to carry our ideas
a little higher. Let us, therefore, consider,
1st, that our present existence, compared with
our future, is a childhood in respect of its du
ration. As the time of childhood is but a
small part of our present existence, so our
present existence itself is but a small part
of our whole existence. There is in reality
in this case no roora for coraparison. We
are to exist for ever. The sun and stars
will be extinguished, and the world itself be
dissolved, but we are to survive, and afler
the lapse of millions of future ages to feel our
selves the same beings that we are now.
What then is this life? How justly may it be
called our childhood? The strict truth is, that

35
it is no more than our entrance into being—
our birth into the vast creation — the first
gliraraering of light at the dawn of day. It
is difficult to consider this properly. Could
we obtain a due sense of it, and enter fully
into the reflection that we are to enjoy an ex
istence commensurate with that of the Deity,
and to partake of his eternity, it would ap
pear scarcely possible to be true, and our
faculties would be overwhelmed.
Again ; this life is our childhood in respect
of improvement. This is what the apostle
refers to, by saying that we think and reason
like children, and that now we know in part,
but that hereafter we shall know as we are
known. Childhood is a time of ignorance
and foUy. Our faculties are then opening,
and reason begins to shew itself. Suoh is
our whole present existence compared with
our future. At our best state in this world
we may say of ourselves, with the utraost
propriety, that we know nothing, and are no
thing. It is hereafter that we are to become
wise and knowing. We now mistake pre
sumption for knowledge, a strange iraagina
tion for a sound understanding, and the delu
sions of passion for the perceptions of truth.
d2

36
Hereafter our intellectual powers will ac
quire vigour. We shall wonder at our pre
sent follies as we now do at those of children.
We shall see intuitively those truths which we
now are obliged to raake out by long and in
tricate deductions. That eternal and infinite
mind, of which we have now only a glimpse,
will becorae raore an object of our discern
ment; and being no more confined to this lit
tle corner of the iraraense creation, we shall
see raore of it, and understand better its
structure and laws. What an iraproveraent
will this be ! What a happiness shall we ex
perience when we shall be delivered frora this
childish world! When the causes that now
orarap our powers, and obstruct our prospect
of the creation, shall be removed, and nature
be unveiled to us! — When, iir short, we shall
become men, know as we are known, and
feel and think as superior beings do !
I might go on to observe to you, that we
are now children in respect of power and
dignity. This is implied in what I have just
said. Fluctuating at best and very feeble is
our present condition. Hereafter our condi
tion will be more fixed and stable. Our
powers will be enlarged, and we shall rise to ¦
a dignity and weight inthe universe, of which

37
we can now form no conception. But it is
necessary that I should endeavour to give you
a yet more accurate view of this subject, by
observing to you, that this life answers to the
idea of a childhood, as it is an introduction
to, and a state of education for, another and a
higher state. It is in this, chiefly, that the
analogy consists between the present life and a
state of childhood; and, therefore, IwiU endea
vour to give you a particular explanation ofit.
Man, we see, is not made at once that crea
ture which he is designed to be. His exist
ence is progressive, and he is made to rise
by steps, and to pass through a succession of
stages, each one of which prepares hira for
the next that follows it. In the worab, we
are prepared for birth, and formed by a gra
dual growth frora the condition of an era
bryo, for that higher mode of existence which
begins when, in the condition of blind and
helpless infants, we draw with a cry our first
breath. Infancy prepares for childhood, and
childhood for manhood. As we pass through
these several stages, we are continually be
coming more and more familiarised to the
scene in which' we are placed. We acquire
increasing knowledge and experience, and
D 3

38
learn gradually those lessons and habits
which are necessary to qualify us for our
highest and best state in this world. And it
is easy to perceive, that were we to be brought
into life full grown, or to be raade raen with
out passing through infancy and childhood,
we should be totally incapable of relishing
life, and as unfit for it as we should be for
conversation, had we never been taught lan
guage ; or for enjoyraent and happiness, were
we destitute of senses. Thus is the begin
ning of our existence here, a natural and ne
cessary preparation for mature life ; and in
like manner, the whole of our mature life
itself is a necessary preparation for that future
life on which we are to enter at death. Were
we to enter at once on another world, without
having passed through this world, we should,
probably, be as incapable of existing in it, as
a child in the worab is of the existence of a
man. Should you ask me here, in what
manner, and by what means, this life is thus
an education for another? I would answer,
that it is so particularly by the instruction
and the habits which are the necessary con
sequence to all of passing through this life ;
but that it is so principally by that instruc
tion in righteousness, and those habits of self-

39
government and virtue, which we are put
upon acquiring in this life.
Virtue, you must always remember, is the
grand condition of happiness under the di
vine government. Without this, we cannot
be qualified for permanent existence, or any
honourable situation in the universe. It is
this, therefore, that we raust chiefly be placed
here to learn. It is self-evident, that a
righteous Being can favour none but the
righteous ; and, consequently, that an ex
istence hereafter, not only eternal but eter
nally iraproving (as all reasonable existence
must be, if continued) can be enjoyed only
by the righteous. It is proper to add, that
as the author of nature has so ordered our
circumstances in this world, as to make early
life fit to be an education for mature life, so
likewise has he so ordered our circurastances
in raature life, as to adapt it to the purpose of
an education in virtue. This we are con
tinually experiencing, as we pass through the
world. We cannot act an uniforraly right
part without constant attention and watchful
ness. We cannot proceed a step in life with
out finding opportunities for practising some
virtue, without being required to resist some
D 4

40
temptation, to check some wrong tendency,
to discharge some duty, to govern some pas
sion, to cherish some grace, or to stand sorae
trial. Our meekness, our pity, our tempe
rance, our benevolence, our patient resigna
tion are brought forth into exercise by num
berless events that are perpetually occurring ;
so that there is scarcely a moment of active
life which does not furnish us with the means
of moral iraproveraent. In prosperity as well
as adversity, in the cottage as well as the
palace, in health and in sickness, in youth
and old age, in private and in public life, in
every business that we can undertake, and
every profession and occlipation that can era
ploy us, our good dispositions are called forth,
and occasions given us for displaying and con
firraing thera. So excellently fitted is this
world for a school of virtue.
Another sense in which our education in
this world for another, corresponds with our
education in early or mature life, is the neces
sity we are under in both capacities of sub
mitting to strict, and, soraetimes, painful dis
cipline, the reason and uses of which we may
not be able to understand. Children are
trained up by restraint and correction, the

41
tendency of which they do not see, and which?
therefore, they are apt to think hard and se
vere. So it is with us, as probationers and
candidates for eternity. We have many hard
lessons given us to learn. We are often raade
to suffer a severe discipline, and, not distinctly
perceiving how it can be useful to us, we are
too rauch disposed to quarrel with it, and,
like children, to raurraur and repine. !6ut
the principal observation to my present pur
pose is, that the success of our education, in
both capacities, is raade to depend on our ac
tivity and industry. It is obvious, that our hap
piness when raen, depiends in a great degree on
our conduct when young ; and, that the turn
we take, the habits we contract, and the bent
that is given us as we grow up frora infancy
to raaturity, determine the colour and fate
of all our subsequent days.
Idleness and laziness in youth form a raan
hood void of worth and dignity ; and a
worthless and vicious raanhood forras a
wretched old age. On the contrary, virtuous,
faithful, raodest, sober, and well-educated
youths always come out with advantage into
the world. They recoraraend theraselves to
all who know them, and are sure of finding

42
encouragement in every walk of life for
which they may be intended. There are not,
indeed, any objects of more general delight
than such young persons. They are, there
fore, likely to rise to usefulness and credit ;
and to become happy in themselves, and bles
sings to society ; and when they have arrived
at old age, they will have laid up such a store
of blessings in a well-established character,
and the respect and consequence they will
have acquired, as will raitigate its inconve
niencies, support under its infirraities, and
make their last days tranquil and honourable.
Such is the dependence of our happiness
in the successive stages of the present life, on
our conduct in those which have preceded
them ; and such, likewise, is the dependence
of our happiness in our future stages of ex
istence, on our conduct in our present exist
ence. Every particular of what I have just
observed of the latter, holds with respect
to the forraer, and our seeing this to be the
order of the divine government in the one
case, should silence all objections to the cre
dibility of it in the other. As our interest in
this world, and, in some degree, even our ex
istence in it, depend on our diligence in early
life, so does our interest in another world

43
(and perhaps even the permanence of our
existence in it) depend on our diligence now.
As in the education we pass through in
youth, we may, by prudence and industry,
secure the best blessings, and the raost
honourable situations when we rise to man
hood, so in the more important education
which we pass through here, for a future
immortality, we may, by our virtuous exer
tion, and setting ourselves to acquire good
habits, and to improve in that perfectness of
character, which is the foundation of all per
manent bliss under the divine governraent,
fit ourselves for the highest posts hereafter,
and rise to inconceivable and eternal honour
and glory in the kingdora of heaven. Thus
is the issue of both educations coraraitted to
ourselves. Thus, in both the capacities I
have been speaking of, the divine constitu
tion has ordered, that it shall be left to our
own choice either to better our condition and
rise and be happy ; or to spoil our condition,
and sink and perish. This is the plan of God's
government. Dignity and bliss here and
hereafter are connected with our own en
deavours, and offered not to our acceptance,
but to our acquisition ; and we may be cer
tain, that this is the wisest and the best way of

44
treating moral agents ; and that, in the end,
it will produce a greater sum of happiness
than could be produced by any other consti
tution. But this leads me to mention an
awful consequence frora these observations ;
and that is, that the issue in both cases being
raade to depend on ourselves is precarious.
Our education in youth for manhood (we all
know) may miscarry, and through negligence
and vice leave us deficient, ignorant, worth
less, and unhappy ; or, on the contrary, it raay
attain its end, lay the foundation of subse^
quent honour, and make us wise, and worthy,
and respectable. The sarae is true of our
whole education here for eternity. This also
may miscarry ; and instead of qualifying us
for the habitations of the just, and a place
among superior beings, it may leave us fit
associates only for evil beings, or issue in our
ruin ; and one of the raost terrifying of all
reflections is, that in both cases, these rais
carriages are common. We see, continually,
schools and universities sending out pedants
and libertines, instead of honest and useful
citizens. We see dissipation in early life de
priving of all enjoyraent in subsequent life,
and often terrainating in disgrace and shame,
and untimely death. And we have reason to

45
believe, that what is analogous to this, is con
tinually happening with respect to our future
destination. This world, I have said, was de
signed to be a school of virtue, and an educa
tion for heaven ; but how frequently does it
prove a school of vice, and an education for
hell ! This is the consequence of that option
which, in this case, it was proper should be
given us ; and of the general rule of God's
government^ not to force happiness on intel
ligent beings, but to oblige them to earn it by
making it the Tesult of their own active in
dustry, assisted by his grace.
I shall conclude, with desiring your atten
tion to the following reflections, which offer
themselves to rae on the account now given
of huraan life :
1st. It leads us to teflect on the wisdora of
God, in ordering the scenes of our existence.
He causes us to rise gradually, and to qualify
ourselves for happiness, as a necessary condi
tion of obtaining it. He does not throw away
his blessings on the slothful and the unde
serving, but raakes them the rewards of pre
vious diligence, and virtuous labours. Before
he brings us to any higher spheres of actionj

46
he puts us into lower ones, and makes every
advance in existence to be the effect of a pre
paration for it, and an introduction to it in a
preceding period of our existence. We can
not conceive of a wiser or a better constitu
tion. Every situation of reasonable beings
implies and requires particular habits and dis
positions, which must be learnt in preceding
situations, in order to create a fitness for it,
and a capacity of enjoyment in it. That gra
dation of stages in existence, depending on
one another, and introducing one another,
which takes place in all that we see of nature,
is founded on the best reasons, and is a proof
both of the goodness and wisdora of the
Creator. To wish to be raen without passing
through childhood, or to be raade angels
without being subjected to the preparatory
discipline and trials of this world, is rauch the
same with wishing to run before we have
leamed to walk ; to possess knowledge with
out acquainting ourselves with the elements of
knowledge ; or to be scholars without being
taught letters.
2dly. The subject on which I have been dis
coursing, should teach us patience under tlie
trials of hfe, and reconcile us to all present

47
difficulties. There is, you have heard, a dis
cipline appointed by our heavenly Father to
form us for future happiness. Like the cor
rections of children, they are intended to
cure our follies, and to teach us those lessons
of obedience and duty, which are necessary to
oCir future welfare. It is true, that in the fu
ture state of happiness, there will be no such
afflictions as we now suffer ; but there may be
occasion for that temper of raind, which is
now formed by bearing them properly.
3dly. The observations I have made on the
subject of this discourse, should render us
earnest in our endeavours to make this life
what it is designed, — a preparation for a
better life, — an introduction to glory, — an
education for the joys of angels ; or, (to use
the metaphorical language of the New Testa
ment) a dressing time for the marriage feast
of Christ, and for a seat araong the general
asserably and church of the first-born, who
are hereafter to meet on Mount Zion. No
thing but this deserves our anxiety. Happy
are those who, by avoiding guilt and perse
vering in a course of weU-doing, answer the
end of their creation, and rise through the
trials of time to the riches of eternity.

48
Lastly ; let us bless God for giving us our
present existence. It will be our own fault,
if it does not prove a gift of unspeakable
value. We raay make it (through God's
help, which is never wanting to those who
seek it as they ought,) the first step of an
endless progress in dignity and happiness.
How pleasing is it to think ofthis? To look
forward to the time when we shall be deli
vered from the discipline of this life, and put
away every thing childish and foolish. To
consider that our souls (like seeds just sown)
contain in theraselves latent principles and
powers, which are hereafter to be displayed,
and which will be always laying the founda
tion of new enjoyraent and dignity. To re
flect that we have before us a boundless
world, and that in conjunction with the whole
universe of reasonable and virtuous beings,
we are to be brightening for ever, and im
proving for ever, under the eye and care of
the Almighty !
This is, indeed, a transporting prospect.
But remeinber, brethren, that the raore trans
porting it is, the more alarming is the re
flection, that, like the prospect granted to
Moses on Mount Pisgah of the land of Ca-
4

49
haan, it is a prospect of hapipiness that there
is •danger of .losing. God's goodness in giv
ing us our existence is, I have said, unspeak
able. But it is a gift thai raay possibly be
withdrawn. Vice throws a cloiuid over this
extatic prospect. The loss of those thoughts
that wander through eternity may be the ap
pointed punishment ofa course of wickedness.
Sorae, indeed, assert the contrary, and tell us,
that through the great Redeeraer there will
be (after a series of future punishments) a
final restitution of all to happiness. Nothing
can be more agreeable to my wishes and feel
ings than such a doctrine. But I raust not
suffer ray wishes to coraraand ray conviction.
I want raore evidence in this case. Though
eternal torments cannot take place under the
government of a benevolent Deity — final de
struction may. I tremble, indeed, when I
make these reflections. I am frightened when
I think of the possibility of their being just:
— " For what (as our blessed Lord says) shall
a man be profited, if he should gain the whple
world and lose hiraself?" There is one way,
and but one way of avoiding this danger. Ac
cording to all principles, religious virtue gives
the security. May Heaven keep us stedfast
in this, lest, by enjoying the hope of eternal

50
life and being put in the way to it, we should
sink at last, swallowed up andt lost in the
dark womb of uncreated night. May thfe God
of all mercy save us from this end, and bring
us to the happiness I have been describing !

51

SERMON III.
ON THE GREATER IMPORTAN'tE OF RIGIlT PRAC
TICE THAN OF A SOUND FAITH IN RELIGION.

Matthew, vii. 21.

Not every one that saith to me, Lord, Lord, shall
enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that
doth the will of my Father who is in heaven.
Many will say unto me in that day. Lord,
Lord,. have we not prophesied in thy name?
And in thy name done many wonderful works?
And then will I profess unto them, I never
knew you, — depart from me ye ihat work
iniquity.
THESE words are, in my opinion, some
of the most striking in the whole New
Testament. At the time our Lord spoke
them, he had no other external appearance
than that of a poor and persecuted man. The
E 2

52
son of a carpenter, destitute of every ad
vantage of birth, rank, and literature. He as
sumes, however, in them unspeakable dig
nity, and speaks in the character of the Son
and Messenger of the blessed Deity, who was
herieafter to judge mankind, and to decide
their eternal condition. He knew the ten
dency which there is in mankind to religious
hypocrisy and superstition. He saw how
prone they are to lay a stress for acceptance
on many things that have no connection with
true goodness ; and therefore he declares in a
manner the most plain and solemn, that
nothing but avoiding iniquity, and doing the
will of his Father, can be of any consequence
to our acceptance, or avail to preserve us from
condemnation in that day, when he shaU come
to call all nations before him to receive their
last sentences. In particular, he assures us,
that no invocation of his name, no honor we
can profess for him, no zeal in preaching his
religion, no extraordinary endowments or
abilities of any kind, will then recommend us
to favour, or do us the least service. We may
call him (he tells us) Lord, Lord. We may
prophesy in his name, and even cast out
demons, and work miracles ; but unless we do
10

53
God's will, we shall be disowned and rejected
by him.
The same doctrine has been taught us in a
variety of other places in the gospel history.
When a certain person asked our Lord, " Are
there few that be saved?" his answer was,
" Strive to enter in at the straight gate, for
many shall seek to enter in, and shall not be
able. When once the master of the house is
risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye
begin to stand without, and to knock at the
door, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us, he shall
answer and say, I know you not whence you
are. Then shall ye begin to say, we have
eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou
hast taught in our streets. But he shall say,
I know you not whence you are, depart from
me all ye workers of iniquity." When he was
informed once, that his mother and his bre
thren stood without, and desired to speak to
him, he took occasion to declare, that those
only he considered as his mother, brothers,
and sisters, (or as entitled to any particular
regard frora hira) who did the will of his Father.
When a certain woraan once called out in the
middle of the crowd, "Blessed is the worab that
bare thee, and the paps which thou hast
E 3

54
sucked," he replied, " Yea, rather blessed are
they who hear the word of God, and keep it.'*
When (he tells us^ in Matth. xiii. 41,) he
shall hereafter corae at the end of the world,
it will be «' to gather out of his kingdom all
things that oflfend, and them who do iniquity."
*' In every nation (as St. Peter has declared On
a very solemn occasion) he that feareth God,
and worketh righteousness, is accepted of
him." " Circumcision is nothing (says St.
Paul) and . uncircuracision is nothing ;" and
for the sarae reason, we raay say, " notions
and doctrines are nothing, but keeping the
commandments of God." " The kingdom of
God (he likewise says in Rora. xiv. 17,) is not
meat and drink," that is, it is not the observ
ance of any rites or cereraonies, but righte-^
ousness, and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost ;
and it is he only that in these things serveth
Christ, is acceptable to God. To the sarae
purpose, and in words that seera to allude to
those of my text, the apostle declares, in
1 Cor. xiii. that though he had the gift of pro:-
. phesy ing, and understood all mysteries, and
though he had all faith, so as to be able to
remove mountains, yet if he had not charity,
he was nothing.

53
The well known words of the prophet
Micah deserve further your particular recol
lection here. "Wherewith shall I come
before the Lord, and bow myself to the most
High God? Shall I come before hira with
bumt-offerings? Will the Lord be pleased
with thousands of raras, or with ten thousands
of rivers of oil ? Shall I give my first-born
for my transgression, — the fruit of my body
for the sin of my soul ? He hath shewed
thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth
the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, to
love mercyi and to walk humbly with thy
God." But there would be no end of re
citing to you all the passages of this kind in
the Bible. The uniform and constant doc
trine ofthe Scriptures is, that doing the will
of God, and avoiding iniquity, is the end, the
sum, and the substance of true religion ; and
that all we can profess, or know, or believe, is
vain and worthless, when considered as of
itself, in any degree a foundation of God's
favour, and of future happiness. In such
strong terras have the Scriptures asserted this,
and so much have they reprobated the con
trary doctrine, that I alraost wonder, that it
has been possible for Christians to make rites
and forms so much the object of their zeal^ or
E 4

56
or to lay so much stress as they have done on
faith and sentiments. This is truly a fact of
the most melancholy nature, ahd one ofthe
most pernicious of all errors ; and I hope you
will bear with rae while in what reraains of
the present time, I endeavour to prove this,
and to hold your attention to the nature,; the
evidence, the importance, and the conse
quence of the: following truth, that there, is
nothirig fundamental in religion besides] sin^
cerely desiring to know, and faithfully doing the
will of God..
Oh this subject I desire you would consider^
1st. That had any thing more than I have now
asserted, been fundaraental, our Lord would
certainly not have expressed hiraself as he
does in ray text. He would not have de
clared so absolutely as he does, that nothing
but doing the will of his Father was of any
value in his sight ; but he would have said,
what many of his followers are continually
saying, that holding the Catholic faith, and
receiving such and such doctrines, were like
wise necessary. Instead of representing him
self, as hereafter, dooming to misery only the
workers of iniquity, he would have repre
sented himself as also rejecting and condemn-

57
ing those who deny certain points of speculari
tion, and holding daranable errors and here*-
sies. In truth, siraple error, when not sepa
rated ifrom an hbnest heart, our Lord seems
never to consider as an pbject of dislike or
cdisure. Hebestowed the highest commen
dations on Nathaniel, atthe very time that he
believed he could not be the true Messiah,
from the influence of so poor a prejudice as
that nothing good could come out of Naza
reth. The apostles, also, were the objects of
his approbation and affection, though, inmany
points, grievously mistaken, and long before
they were set right in their notions of his
kingdom. He expressed a particular pre
ference of the Roraan centurion, mentioned
in Math. viii. 5, though a Gentile, and an
idolater ; and, on observing the excellence of
his disposition, took occasion to declare, "that
manv should corae from the east and the
west, and sit down in the kingdom of God,
while the children of the kingdom should be
cast out into outer darkness,"— plainly inti
mating to us, that goodness of heart and right
practice, and not any external profession, or
rectitude of sentiment are the grounds of
God's favour. You are, likewise, well ac
quainted with the history of Cornelius. So

58
acceptable was he even in the state of a
Pagan, that the most extraordinary raeans
were used to give him raore light. Nor can it
with any reason be doubted, but that if he had
lived before the appearance of Christ in the
world, and died in the state of a Pagan, he
would have been for ever happy.
But 2dly, consider that a sincere desire to
know and to do God's will is a certain pre
servative from all dangerous error. It would
be one of the grPssest reflections on the equity
and the goodness of God to suppose the con
trary, or to imagine that any one in whom this
qualification is found can be suffered to perish
for want of any necessary instruction or infor
mation. This would be to suppose, that he
has suspended our salvation on conditions
which he does not give us power to perform,
and that we may be the objects of his displea
sure, though faithfully attached to his laws, and
anxious to find out and to do all that he re
quires of us. Let no one entertain any such
apprehensions of the fountain of wisdom and
goodness. He who faithfully wishes to know
the truth, and who does his best to discover
and to practise it, must be approved by the
Deity, and cannot ppssibly mistake fundar

59
mentally. In all his enquiries he is under the
superintendency and protection -of heaven.
The criminality of error lies entirely in the
vicious passions from which it proceeds : but
such a person cannot be under the power of
any such passions. I had rather indeed in
finitely be in the wrong with a humble inqui
sitive, and honest mind, than be in the right
without it. No point of faith which a person
with such a temper caju reject is essential.
" The meek will God guide in judgment. To
the upright he will shew his way. The wise
shall understand, but none of the wicked shall
understand." " He that does the will of
God," our Saviour tells us, " shall kuow of the
doctrine whether it be of Gpd,"
3dly. A sincere disposition to receive what
ever inforraation God is pleased to give us,
may be considered as equivalent in all cases
to a right belief. It is an assent already pre
pared to whatever doctrines God has revealed,
and contains all the merit that there can be
in the actual reception of them. A person,
for instance, who takes the New Testament
for the rule of his faith, and studies to form
his opinions by it, may be said to believe
whatever is revealed, though it should happen

60
that there are particular doctrines there taught
to which (through unavoidable mistake) he
does not explicitly assent. By receiving the
book that contains such doctrines he gives a
virtual assent to them; and by meaning and
endeavouring to extend his faith as far as
God requires, or reason and evidence will
warrant, he possesses all that is necessary or
valuable in faith.
As the determination of the will to righte
ousness is the whole of genuine virtue, and
the very thing that constitutes virtue in every
action, so the deterraination of the raind to
truth is the whole of genuine faith, and the
very thing that gives faith its worth in every
point. And as, in order to a virtuous cha
racter, it is not necessary that every thing vir
tuous should be actually exemplified in our
conduct, so neither is it necessary to an accep
table faith, that an actual assent to every thing
that is true should take place in our minds.
The faith of some may be more just than the
faith of others, or it may include in it more
articles ; but as long as all have nothing but
truth ultimately in view, they are all pursuing
the same end, and have all one object of zeal
and attachment.

61
. You may observe, that I always speak on
the supposition that our desire to know God's
will is attended with faithful endeavours to
discover it. An affection to truth, that does
not put us upon doing our best to find it out,
can be nothing but a vain pretence ; and if,
indeed, any one neglects the proper means of
informing his judgment, or is criminally hasty
and careless in his enquiries, he is so far blame
able and guilty. But then I must beg leave
to add, that such a person is equally blame
able, whether in consequence of such causes
he happens to embrace truth or error. One
who enquires fairly and carefuUy before he
believes, may happen to be led to reject true
doctrines, which he would not have rejected
had he continued to swallow implicitly the
principles of his education. This I say, though
not likely to happen, may happen, and when
it does happen, there is in the one case per
fect innocence, nay merit, though the rejec
tion of truth has proved the effect of examina
tion; and in the other case there is guilty
though the eeception of truth has proved the
effect of the neglect of examination. All de
pends, you should ever remember, on the in
tention and bent of the heart. Where this is

62
turned towards truth, wrong opinions will he
accepted as if they were right, and on the con
trary, where the heart is not thus turned, or a
criminal negligence takes place, right opinions
wiU be conderaned as if they were false. In
this, as in all other instances, the will is accept
ed for the deed. In the soul where an affec
tion to virtue reigns, God sees every latent vir
tue that has not yet been called into action,
and also in the understanding where the de
sire of knowing God's will reigns, he sees every
part of the systera of faith to which, through
misapprehension or ignorance, the assent has
not been yet given. I wish with all my
heart, that those who are disposed to censure
others for their raistakes would consider this.
They will perhaps say, that it is not involun
tary raistake or siraple error that they con
deran in those who differ from thera, but that
neglect of the means of better information,
and that wrong obstinacy from which those
mistakes proceed. Those who talk thus shoidd
be certain that their own opinions are not de
rived from any such causes : for if they are, it
is out of doubt, that they are no less guilty
than the very person they censure, though
their opinions should be perfectly right.

63
4thly. In connection with what I have
now said, it should be remembered, that the
very purpose of all religious principles is to
produce that teraper of raind which I am re
commending, and that their worth consists
entirely in their tendency to this. Where
this temper is found, there the end of religious
truth is attained, and therefore nothing more
can be essential. As much as there is ofa
sincere desire to know and to do God's will,
in any opinions, so much have they of virtue
in them ; and, as much as they want of this,
so far they are in a moral account entirely in
significant. Seek this, then, in the first place.
Seek, above all things, humility, sincerity,
piety, and right practice, and then be satisfied
that you have reached the very excellence to
which all doctrines should bring you; and
without which, the most rigid orthodoxy is
vanity, and the most extensive faith nothing
but a system of notions floating in the head,
and leaving the soul miserable.
Again, let us consider on this subject,
what a dreadfid condition we should be in,
were not what I am now insisting upon true.
Our acceptance, in this case, would be con
nected with things entirely out of our power,

64
and on which our wills could have no influence.
It would depend on the extent of our know
ledge, and not on the rectitude of our con
duct, — on the soundness of our heads, and not
on the sincerity of our hearts, — on the accu
racy of our judgments, and not on the faith
fulness of our endeavours to learn and to prac
tise truth and right. How miserable a state
would this be ! To be subject to condemna
tion merely because we have mis-conceived
on certain points, or because some pf our
opinions happen to be wrong, — could any
thing be more discouraging ? Would it not
break all the springs of action in oux minds ?
Would it not render us incapable of
ever knowing when we are in a state of
safety. Once more, in order to be further confirmed
in the doctrine I ara inculcating, let me desire
you to look round the world, and to consider
the numberless diversities of opinions that
prevail among mankind. Can you possibly
imagine that God's favour is confined to only
one set of these opinions, and that all the rest
subject those who hold them to damnation ?
I know that some, without hesitation, will
avow this. There are Christians, who in their

65
religious exercises, are continually holding up
those who raaintain opinions different from
theirs, as enemies to God, and devoted to
destruction. This has even received the sanc
tion of public authority, and in the establish
ment it is raade to be a part of the national
devotion, to declare that all who do not re
ceive one particular creed, shall, without
doubt, perish everlastingly. But I know that
the persons to whora • I am now speaking,
must detest this uncharitableness. You can
not, I am persuaded, entertain any thought
so horrible, as that the little inclosure of your
own faith contains ih it all goodness, and all
that will be saved. Were this true of any re
ligious sect, God's favour would be, indeed,
extremely liraited, and we could not say with
St. Paul " that there is no difference between
the Jew and the Greek, fbr the sarae Lord
ovier all, is rich to all that call upon hira ; and
that glory, honour, and peace shall be to
every one who worketh good,, to the Jew first,
and also to the Gentile." Rora. ii. 10, and
X. 12.
But what I raean here chiefly to observe is,
that experience teaches us that true worth and
piety are not confined to any one rehgious
p

66
sect. That person cannot have conversed
much with mankind, who has not found that
there are good men of all persuasions ; that
many of those who come nearest to him in
sentiraents, are very wicked ; and, on the
contrary, that raany of those who differ most
widely from him are very worthy. Seldora or
ever can we conclude raerely from the mode
of faith and worship to which a raan is at
tached, what he is in his private character.
In the church, and out of the church, and
among Calvinists and Arminians, Quakers,
Baptists, Presbyterians, and Independents,
there are conscientious and excellent men.
Were I to infer from a man's opinions, that
he cannot be very zealous for right practice, I
should probably be disposed to think so of
one who believes that the eternal happiness or
misery of every huynan being was fixed before
he was born by an absolute deci^ee, without any
regard to his actions, — that we have no power
to do any thing that is good, — that there is no
such thing in nature as free agency, or a power
of self-dominion ; but that every thing we do is
the eff'ect of necessary causes, over which we
have no control, and that, consequently, every
man is Just what God made him to be, and does

67
what God appoints him to do, ^ thai personal
righteousness has nothing in it valuable in the
sight of God, and that we must be justified by
the righteousness of Christ imputed to us, and by
faith without works; but experience assures
rae, that in drawing such a conclusion, I
should be very wrong. I see and know, that
those who hold these doctrines, are not aware
of the consequences of thera, and that, like
the apostles and first believers, they can drink
a deadly thing, and not be hurt by it. I am,
therefore, seldora inclined to draw any con
clusion frora a person's opinions to his cha
racter. You will, perhaps, ask rae, on this occasion,
are there then no essential doctrines? Or is
it indifferent what opinions we hold ? I an
swer, that I have by no means intended to as
sert this. Saying that there are worthy
persons of all persuasions, and that every one
who is sincere in his religious profession, shall
be accepted, is not the sarae with saying that
it does not signify what our religious profes
sion is, or to what doctrines we give our as
sent. There is, without doubt, an iraportant
difference between doctrines. Some are ab
surd, and some are reasonable ; some are
F 2

68
liable to be abused to licentiousness, and others
have a tendency to promote true goodness.
It. is our duty to reject the former, and, as far
as we can, to receive only the latter. There
are particular points df faith, and raodes of
worship, for which I have myself a warm zeal,
and to which I think myself bound to adhere,
at the expence of all ray worldly possessions.
He that does not follow what appears to him
to be truth and reason, contradicts his con
science, and hazards his own salvation. I do
not, therefore, mean to exhort you to any in
difference with respect to the part you shall
take in religion, or the opinion you shall
adopt. Though I insist that our acceptance
does not depend on our taking always
the right side; yet I insist, also, that it does
depend on our taking always that side whicii
appears to us to be right, and not leaving
ourselves to be carried away carelessly to a
conformity in religion that our hearts disap
prove. As we value God's favour, we must follow
our judgments, and worship hira only in that
way which is most agreeable to our own con
victions, striving earnestly for what we appre
hend to be true religion, and the genuine

69
gospel of Christ, free from all human mix
tures and irapositions. But then we should
reraeraber to do this without raalevolence or
rancour against those whose raodes of faith
and worship are different from our own.
What we judge to be right, we should follow
earnestly, but, at the same time, amicably and
charitably, never condemning or censuring
any of our fellow Christians merely on account
of their opinions. Indeed, were the doctrine
I have been inculcating, properly impressed
on our hearts, this would be unavoidable*
Did we believe heartily that God is equally
the God of all, in all nations who act up
faithfully to the light they enjoy, it would not
be possible for us, however attached to our
own religious system, to regard with aversion,
or to treat with unkindness, any human
beings who receive and practise other systems.
But I may have occasion to say raore on
this presently. I have said, that I have ray
self a religious faith for which I am zealous ;
but I do not connect salvation with receiving
it, — God forbid that I should. I connect sal
vation only (as you have learned abundantly
from the present discourse) with faithfully
endeavouring to discover, and to do God's
P 3

70
will. I see that some of the best men differ
from me. My zeal I would temper with can
dour and love, to those who are attached to
<5ontrary principles, and with a perfect readi
ness to grant them the same liberty that I wish
for myself. I would maintain my own prin
ciples in such a manner as may shew, that I
think myself a fallible creature, — that I have
an open and catholic heart, and desire no
more than the quiet enjoyment of the rights
of private judgment, without molesting others.
Charity, and an unrestrained liberty of con
science, I consider as the first objects of all
just zeal. These I think of raore iraportance
than any raodes of faith or worship.
I should now conclude, with desiring your
attention to the use of the doctrine I have
been delivering, and to some inferences from it.
These are many and important, and shall be
the subject of my next discourse.

71

SERMON IV.

Matthew vii. 21.
Not every one that saith to me. Lord, Lord,
shall enter into, S^c. S^c.
TN my last discourse, I represented to you
-*• the nature and the evidence of the follow
ing truth, " that there is nothing properly fun
damental in religion, besides sincerely* de
siring to know, and faithfully endeavouring to
do the will of God." I shall proceed now to
desire your attention to the following uses of
the doctrine I have endeavoured to explain
and inculcate.
1st. Itis fitted to administer great corafort
to us, amidst the darkness of this world, and
the diversity of opinions among our fellow
Christians. Were our acceptance to depend
on the truth of our opinions, or the ortho
doxy of our sentiments, we might well trem-
p 4

ble, and say with Peter, Who then can he
saved? The best and wisest of us, after all
our care to inform ourselves, and after all our
supplications for light and direction, are mis
taken in many points. Sorae of our raost
favourite opinions are, probably, wrong, and
some ofthe doctrines which we hold raost te
naciously may be false. If there is any one
who doubts this, I pity hira. Of such a per
son it is most likely to be true. But let it be
true. There is joy in thinking that if we are
upright and faithful, it will not obstruct our
salvation. God has given no human being a
security against error ; nor was it possible he
should, without making us omniscient. But
he has done what is infinitely more desirable ;
he has given to every one who desires to
know, and to do his will, a security of his
favour, notwithstanding any raistakes into
which he may fall. The man who is right,
gains no merit on that account in his sight, if
he is so by chance ; and the raan who is
wrong, loses no raerit on that account, if he
is so involuntarily. He sees even the errors
of the diligent and well-meaning inquirer
with more approbation than all the sound
faith and right notions that are taken up care-
1

73
lessly and implicitly from a regard to fashion,
custora, education, and human authority.
I can scarcely think of any doctrine raore
corafortable than this. Araidst the noise of
controversy, and the contention of religious
sects, it sets a good mind entirely at ease.
It enables us to consider the character of the
Deity with more affection, — to survey our
own state with raore coraplacency, and to
pursue the path marked out for us by our own
judgment, with raore satisfaction and alacrity.
Whereas, were what some say of the neces
sity of receiving their faith — of coming over
to their church, — and ofthe damnableness of
heresy and schism, — were this true, our con
dition would be deplorable. We should be
distracted by the menaces of opposite parties,
and the Deity would appear to us in a cha
racter the most severe and discouraging.
2dly. The doctrine which I have been in
culcating, has a tendency to promote our
charity, and to reconcile us to all our fellow-
creatures. The chief cause of that aniraosity
which we see in raankind, (and particularly
in Christians) against one another, is differ
ence of opinion. They paint to themselves

all who hold tenets, or who practise forras of
worship different frora their own, in colours
the most horrible ; and, of course, are led to
hate them. But could they be convinced of
the truth of what I have been asserting, their
aversion would lose its ground, and their
benevolent affections would have free scope
to exert themselves. Nothing would appear
hateful to them, but want of charity, and
nothing damnable but a wicked life. They
would be ready to embrace all the world,
however distinguished into religious sects,
with unbounded good will, from a persuasion
that no sect enjoys a monopoly of God's
favour ; and that the inhabitants of the future
heavenly state will consist of a great multi
tude, gathered from all sects, and frora every
quarter and region of the earth. It is with
great concern that I soraetiraes see a worthy
person shewing enraity to some of his fellow
Christians, and looking at thera with disgust,
not because he dislikes their conduct or cha
racter, but because he dislikes some of their
opinions, — not because they do not worship
God according to the best of their own judg
ment, but because they do not worship him
according to his judgment.

There is scarcely any thing more pitiable
than this illiberality and contraction of soul.
It raakes religion appear very unamiable, and
miserably tarnishes a good character. It is
the effect of zeal without knowledge, and
generally prevails most where there is the most
absurdity. Witness, in particular, the Roraan
Catholic religion, — where is there so rauch
absurdity, and yet where is there so much
zeal ? Many of the professors of that religion
think the person little better than a demon,
and consign him to hell, who does not be
lieve that Christ gave his own body with his
own hands to his apostles to be eaten by
them ; and who does not join in worshipping
the blessed Virgin, the Pope, and the Host.
Too much of a like temper prevails in many
good Protestants, and I am afraid there are
several of them who will be not a little
shocked at the very Catholicism and the
charity I am now recoramending. But I can,
in sorae degree, excuse even this narrowness.
In many good men, it is chiefly an error in
judgraent, and a fault of the head more than
of the heart. Though always an unhappy
iraperfection, it is never a crime, except when
the effect of pride and malignity, and accom-

76
panied with a disposition to persecute. Were
those conscientious persons, whose characters
suffer by it, more enlightened, they would be
differently affected, they would lose this zeal
for rights, and forras, and notions, and lay
great stress upon nothing but the funda
mentals of a Christian life. That horror,
with which they now view raany about them,
would cease. Their benevolence would, ex
pand itself. They would enjoy more plea
sure in their fellow-creatures, and becorae un
speakably happier. Most ardently do I wish
this happiness to all good Christians and vir
tuous men, — and in order to it, I also wish
they were hetter acquainted with one another.
The best remedy for narrowness (next to a
correct judgment, and a candid heart) is a free
and open intercourse with persons of different
sentiments. We are like children wearing
different garbs in the middle of a mist. We
keep at a distance from one another, and
therefore appear to one another like monsters.
Did we come nearer to one another, and as
sociate more, our silly prejudices would abate,
and we should love one another better.
Sdly. The doctrine on which I have been
insisting, could it be instiled into every

77
human heart, would root out ofthe world all
intolerance and persecution, and, consequent
ly, do the greatest service to society. The
spring of all persecution is the persuasion that
the favour of God depends on the opinions we
embrace. Could this persuasion be exter
minated, and a conviction established in its
room, that every one is acceptable to God
who serves him according to the best light he
enjoys, persecution would be destroyed in its
birth, and no human being would ever wish
to lay any restraint on another with respect
to the religion he shall chuse and profess :
each religious sect would be satisfied with
quietly practising its own raodes of worship,
and (I will beg leave to add) that the civil
raagistrate would extend his protection equally
to all possible subjects of every persuasion,
without ever interposing his authority in re
ligious differences. How happy and glorious
a state of civil society would this be ? But,
alas, we know that the state of the world has
hitherto been very different. There has al
ways been in the spirit of religious sects, a
savageness which has led thera to wrong one
another, and the business of the civil magis
trate has been to foster this destructive spirit,
by taking the part of one sect against another ;

78
and employing force to plant aa uniformity of
faith and worship on the ruins of sincerity and
humanity. What can be more melancholy than this !
What can afford a more humiliating proof of
the weakness and blindness of human nature?
While men allow one another to differ about
points of faith, tranquillity and order take
place, and religion, by strengthening moral
obligations, and promoting benevolent affec
tions, is an unspeakable blessing to the world.
But when raen corae to annex notions of sacred
ness to particular formularies of faith, and to
think it their duty to do all they can to bring
men over to the belief of them : When they
come to look upon persons who do not re
ceive them with horror, and to consider them
as eneraies to the Deity, then the most horrid
evils begin, — the flames of persecution are
kindled, — nuraberiess innocent victiras are
sacrificed, — and religion becomes a cruel and
pernicious superstition.
Read ecclesiastical history, and you will be
raade thoroughly sensible of the truth of this
representation. You will there see religious
sects, and the rage for proselytisra laying
waste the earth. The sword of the magiis-

79
trate turned from its proper direction, and em
ployed, not to keep the peace, but to enforce
the decisions of tyrannical priests, and to sub
due the schismatic and heretic. The Chris
tian church converted into a field of blood,
and the disciples of the blessed Jesus tearing
one another to pieces, because not agreed
about his person, and nature, and offices,
Ecclesiastical history presents us with scenes
too tragical and humiliating to be easily
borne- It is but little more than a history of
the effects of some of the worst passions,
worked up to their highest virulence by reii
gious zeal, and of the tumults and wars occa
sioned by that most infernal of all monsters, —
religious bigotry.
Let us Christians carefully guard our
selves here. Let us extirpate frora our breasts
every tendency to this weakness, and strive
to work into our rainds a due conviction of
the truths I have been delivering. Reraem
ber that the religious principles most likely
to be true, are those which have the best
effects on the temper, and which render you
most hurable, catholic, and candid. Judge
always by this test of your religion, and learn
to reject every sentiment that makes you love

80
mankind less, and leads you to think hardly
of your Christian brethren, or that inclines
you to any degree of intolerance or uncha
ritableness. Exaraine how your heart stands
with respect to those who differ most widely
from you, and if you find yourselves disposed
to be out of huraour with them, or to wish
the smaUest infringeraent of their liberty,
give yourselves no rest till you have brought
yourselves to a better teraper. Such a dispo
sition raay increase to a fixed aversion, and is
nothing but the fire of persecution beginning
to-burn in the heart. It ought, therefore, to
be watched particularly, and to be stifled as
soon as it appears. If you allow yourselves
to be out of huraour with another, because he
does not believe and worship as you do, you
are in the way to think hira a miscreant that
ought not live. If you think that God is his
enemy, the next step will be, that you will be
his enemy, and endeavour, perhaps, to bring
him to a prison, or a stake.
I can hardly address you on a subject of
much greater importance than this. My
thoughts have carried rae far beyond the
liraits I at first intended on the present sub
ject, and it is time to come to a conclusion ;

81
and yet I do it with sorae pain, fpr I h3pe
that in this asserably there is but little occa
sion for it.
I cannot help adding one further observ
ation, which I think necessary. I have been
recommending to you charity and moderation.
There cannot be more iraportant or araiable
virtues ; but I raust warn you that they have
their counterfeits. There is a spurious kind
of these virtues, consisting in an entire indif
ference with respect to all religious principles.
In avoiding enthusiasra, raariy fall into a dead
languor, and with their bigotry lose their piety.
They become less devout, as they become less
superstitious, and act as if there was no me
dium between giving up all religion, and being
frantic in religion. Persons of this character
are now very coraraon in this nation, and I
think of them with particular concern.
Irreligion is as unreasonable as superstition,
and it is raore inexcusable. The poor bigot
who thinks that the whole world is going to
daranation, except the few who have the same
faith with hiraself, raay be conscientious and
worthy; — but the irreligious sceptic, who
never worships God or thinks of any future

82
•tate, neglects his duty in one of its most capi
tal instances, and raust want sorae of the best
affections of the huraan heart. — The former
may be only mistaken ; the latter (if he be
lieves there is a God to whom homage is due)
must be self-condemned.
Let us, fellow Christians, fly from both
these extremes, and while we avoid narrow
ness take care to retain piety. Let our reli
gion be liberal, and at the same time ardent,
remerabering that if we serve God faithfully
in the way our consciences approve, and with
perfect charity to all raankind, integrity and
uprightness will preserve us, and we shall
soon be raade happy in that everlasting king
dora of Jesus Christ, into which, not those
who call him Lord, Lord, but those only who
do the will of his Father, shall enter.
You, all of you, I trust, abhor the
fault I have been endeavouring to expose;
but there are none who have not the seeds
of it in themselves, and we cannot be put
too much on our guard. The best things
are apt to run into the worst extremes. Re
ligion is the best of aU things; but there is
no sraall danger of its running into enthu-

83
siasra, and being accompanied with an im
posing and damning disposition; and when
this is the case, it becomes a barbarism of
the raost horrid kind, and a dreadful pest to
society. — Such has been the religion of nura
beriess persons. Such was the religion of the
Pharisees among the Jews, and of those abet
tors of the ancient establishment, concerning
whom our Lord said, " that theji- would think
they did God service in killing his apostles."
Such is the religion now professed and esta
blished in Popish countries, and such also, too
much, is the religion of some protestants.
Let us study anxiously to avoid this horrid
perversion of religion ! Instead of being of
fended with those who belong to a different
religious persuasion frora our own, let us
esteem them as brethren, let us take them in
to our hearts, and encourage thera to follow
their own convictions, withdrawing our zeal
from rites, and forms, and doctrines, and de
testing the hypocrisy of those raen who can
be more easily reconciled to iraraorality than
heresy, and are more shocked at believing
wrong than doing wrong. Thus, shall we be
a credit to religion, and exhibit it to the world
as the benign and excellent thing which it
really is in itself, and consequently wipe off
G 2

84 ¦
in sorae raeasure the disgrace under which it
lies. Much has been said and written about fun
daraentals, and great pains have been taken to
settle the nature and the nuraber of thera.
For ray own part, I ara unwilling to apply the
terra fundaraental to any controverted doctrine
or any speculative opinions. There is pro
perly nothing fundaraental except an upright
heart. It is not speculation, but practice^ —
not knowing, but doing, that is raost necessary
to our acceptance. I do, however, acknow
ledge that there are fundaraental doctrines,
but none of the doctrines controverted araong
sincere enquirers, or of the peculiarities of
different sects, can be of this nuraber. What
ever is fundamental is so evident, that it must
be universally received.
I wUl beg leave to exemplify this in the
case of the doctrines of Christianity. — That
Christ was sent of God to be the Saviour of
the world — that he worked miracles — rose
from the dead, and ascended to heaven — that
he will hereafter appear to judge the world,
and that through hira raankind will be then
raised from death — the wicked punished, and

85
the virtuous established in a glorious iramor-
tahty — these are fundaraental doctrines of
Christianity ; — that is, they are so plainly re
vealed that they are not capable of being de
nied by any who receive the gospel history.
Christians of every name believe them, and are
agreed in expecting future salvation and eter
nal life, not as due to any huraan raerit, but
as the gift of God through Jesus Christ. This
is a centre in which all the professors of the
Gospel meet; and their agreement or coraraon
reception of the New Testament as the rule
of their faith and practice, and their comraon
hope, through Christ, of a resurrection from
death to an endless life of coraplete happiness,
should be a sufficient ground of the raost cor
dial affection and harraony araong them, not
withstanding all differences of opinion about
the points litigated between Calvinists, Ar
rainians, Unitarians, Socinians, and all the
nuraerous sects into which they are divided.
And with respect to those who are not Chris
tians — with respect to Jews, Mahometans,
Pagans, and all who have either never heard
of Christ, or who through unavoidable mistake
reject his mission — I think we ought to ex
tend our Catholicism so far as to believe that
no more is required of them than to act up to
G 3

86
the light they enjoy, and that as far as they do
this, and are equally virtuous with ourselves,
they shall at last be made partakers of equal
happiness, through that great Messiah who
tasted death for every man. — Thus should we
acquire a noble superiority to party preju
dices, and feel our hearts reconciled to men
of all nations and religions.
I wish I could infuse this liberality into
every human soul ! But this is infinitely above
my feeble powers, and can be accomplished
only by the particular providence and grace
of God.
Such is the iraperfection of the present
state, that the best inforraed judgraent will
not always preserve good raen frora an un
warrantable narrowness; and that a part of
our duty must consist in making allowances
for this weakness in our brethren, and in ex
ercising moderation and charity towards those
who want these virtues. The time however,
I persuade myself, is coming when a better
state of things will take place. Since the Re
formation, and particularly within this cen
tury, religious sects have been growing more
tolerant. The scripture prophecies lead us to

87
to expect that this amendment in the state of
the world will go on, and knowledge continue
to increase till a period arrives when spiritual
oppression shall entirely cease, and the earth
be full of the knowledge of the Lord — when
persons of opposite persuasions in religion
will dwell together in peace, and be no lohger
disposed to destroy one another; or, in the
figurative language of Isaiah, when the wolf
shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard lie
down with the kid — the cow and the bear feed
together — the lion eat straw like the ox, and
they shall not hurt nor destroy in all God's holy
mountain. May heaven hasten the approach of these
happy days, and soon put an end to the evils
which have arisen in society frora false zeal
and religious bigotry.

G 4

88

SERMON V.

ON CONTENTMENT.

Phil. iv. 2.

/ have learned, in whatever state I am, there
with to be content.
IT is a striking account which St. Paul, in
this passage, gives of himself. He had
received from the Philippians some contribu
tions for his support. He tells them, that
these contributions had given him much plea^
sure, as testimonies of their affection ; inti
mating, however, at the sarae tirae, that he
was so practised in contentment, as not to find
them necessary. "I rejoiced in the Lord
greatly, that now at last your care of me hath
flourished again, wherein ye were also careful,
but ye lacked opportunity. Not that I speak
4

89
in respect of want ; for I have learned, in
whatever state I am, therewith to be con
tent. I know both how to be abased, and I
know how to abound, every where and in all
things. I am instructed both to be full, and
to be hungry ; both to abound, and to suffer
need. I can do all things through Christ,
which strengtheneth me. Notwithstanding
ye have done well, that ye did communicate
with my affliction," verse 10, 14.
My present design in discoursing from this
passage on the duty of contentment, is to
give a suraraary account of all the principal
arguraents for it, hoping that by collecting
these arguraents, and laying thera in one view,
as .far as the liraits of a single discourse
will allow, a greater impression may be made,
and this united force be so felt, as to make
it less possible for us to avoid resolving in
earnest to practise contentment.
The first arguraents I shall mention are
those taken from the consideration of our duty
to God, and our condition as the subjects of
his perfect government. It is he that has
fixed our situation, and assigned our lot. Dis
content, therefore, is an act of disobedience

90
to him. It iraplies a censure of his provi
dence, and an opposition to his authority,;
Its language is, " I ara hardly dealt with, —
God shall not reign over me, — I will not
consent to his determinations, or submit to
his will." How shocking is such language in
such creatures of frailty, — such children of
the dust, — such ignorant and helpless beings
as we are? Has not he who created the
world, a right to govern it ? Has not he
who made us what we are, a right to dispose
of us as he sees best ? Has not he who has
given us all our enjoyraents, a right to con
tinue Or withdraw thera as he pleases ?
But this is a consideration that will acquire
more force, if we will add the recollec
tion that all the determinations of God's pro
vidence are under the direction of unerring
and perfect reason. It is not possible that he
should dispose of us amiss, or permit us to
suffer for a raoraent under any real grievance.
No pain, which (considered in its reference to
his adrainistration) is iraproper, can exist.
No advantage or relief, which rectitude re
quires hira to grant, can be denied us. No
event can take place, which he, as the suprerae
arbiter of all events, ought to have excluded ;

91
and this is just as certain as that he is a
righteous and benevolent being. Nothing
can place the unreasonableness of discontent
in a stronger light than these considerations.
They shew, that it is the folly of repining at
what is best, — the impiety of charging the
Deity with doing wrong, — the baseness of
desiring that perfect order that governs na
ture, should be broken. The course of things
is right, beyond the possibility of correction.
The constitution of the universe is just what
the best informed benevolence can wish it to
be. Nothing can happen, that is not under
the best superintendency, or that does not
derive itself either from the appointment or
the permission of infinite goodness ; and were
we wise enough, we should mind nothing but
exhibiting in our own conduct that righteous
ness which governs the world, take up our
rest in God at all tiraes, under a full convic
tion that the hairs of our head are nurabered ;
that not a sparrow falls to the ground without
him, and that the final issue of events will be
the production of the greatest possible good.
If, then, you have any regard to the duty
you owe to God, — any faith in his provi
dence, — any reverence for his authority, —
any just sense of your situation araidst his

92
works ; or any of that loyalty of heart to his
adrainistration which is your duty and your
dignity, you will be satisfied with your lot,
and practise contentraent.
All is well, — well for ourselves in particu
lar, if we are virtuous. But whether virtuous
or vicious, well for the world at large, and in
the great sura of events. We find ourselves
kindly provided for, — everlasting happiness
is offered to our acquisition. Neither capri
cious chance nor a blind fate have any thing
to do in the direction of our affairs. We see
an attention displayed in the arrangeraent of
dead raatter that excites our wonder, and ex
ceeds our coraprehension. This assures us
that there can be no such thing as negligence
in an arrangeraent of infinitely raore conse
quence. I mean, in the arrangement of the
lots of reasonable beings, and the adjustment
of events among them. In such a situation,
to be mal-contents, or not even religious, is to
be monsters of ignorance and ingratitude.
In short, the duty of contentraent is not an
obligation to break our rainds to the swav of
irresistible power, or the necessity of sub
raitting our wills to a lot which is hard but
unalterable ; though, were even this the case,

93
contentraent would be still a duty, for what
in such a case would be more proper, than to
raake the best of a hard lot, not capable of
being raended, by yielding to it as quietly as
possible ? But this, I say, is not the content
ment we are to practise. Our circurastances
are unspeakably different. All that is incum-
berit upon us is to wait quietly for a glorious
issue to present events, — to consent that the
best ends should be brought about by the best
raeans, and to fall in with the raeasures era
ployed by infinite wisdora and goodness, to
produce a happiness that will be infinite and
everlasting, and in which our own happiness
will be included, if we do not reject it, by
raaking ourselves unworthy of it.
These are the fundaraental reasons for con
tentment. But there are many other collate
ral reasons which ought to be raentioned, and
which I will now enuraerate. And here I
will first observe, that the following reason
ing on this subject often relieves and tran
quillizes ray raind. I ask myself whether I
do not receive more good than evil in life,
and whether therefore ray existence is not a
blessing to rae? In answer to this question I
always find myself ready to acknowledge, that

94
my enjoyments far exceed ray sufferings-—
that my life is a valuable gift, and that were
it put to my option, whether I would exist as
I am, or not exist, I should eagerly prefer
the former: — and, I believe, that there is
scarcely a huraan creature who would not
make the same acknowledgement, were he
properly inforraed, and did not labour under
a raorbid and delusive melancholy. Happy
then, in some measure, we feel ourselves, and
if we raake coraplaints, it must be because our
existence is not attended with a greater over
balance of enjoyments. But what can be
more absurd or perverse? If this is a just rea
son for being discontented, it is in the nature
of the thing impossible to satisfy us. Such a
reason for discontent must remain in every
state of existence ; for let its enjoyraents be
ever so great, there will be a possibility of a
greater. A person (let us suppose) in a low situation
finds upon coraparing his hours of health and
sickness, of ease and pain, the forraer to
predominate, and that his condition, though
low and attended with inconveniences, has
an excess of gratification in it, which makes
him chuse to retain it rather than be struck

95
out of being. He is, therefore, a gainer by
his existence, and has reason to be thankful
for it. If then he coraplains, it raust be be
cause he is not placed in a higher situation,
and is not a greater gainer by his existence.
Suppose this granted hira — the sarae cause
of complaint will reraain; for there will be
still higher situations ; and this would be the
case were he raised ever so high ; for still
higher there would be — and though placed
at the top of worldly grandeur and felicity,
he might raurraur, because he had been raade
a man, and not an angel, — or though made
an angel, he raight raurmur because he had
not been made an arch-angel.
You see, then, that discontent goes upon a
principle that would level the creation, and
sow uneasiness among all the inferior ranks
of beings. There raust be distinctions and
subordinations without end and without limits
in the universe. There raust be, amidst God's
works, a lowest as well as a highest, and if the
lowest have reason for being dissatisfied, all
the intermediate beings have equal reason,
and there would be nothing in the creation
but murmurs, jealousy, and raisery. In short,
the language of discontent is, " I will be at

96
the summit of created existence — I will be
satisfied with no happiness short of the high
est which divine power can bestow — I will ac
cept no advantages while there are greater to
be possessed." — A wiser and more just man
ner of determining would be the following.
Living and thinking as I now do, notwith
standing the sufferings to which I am subject,
I prefer, to the loss of life, thought, and con-
ciousness. I therefore bless God for giving
me rayself. If I ara dissatisfied, it raust be^
not because God is not good to rae, but be
cause he is not better — not because I ara not
happy, bu^ because I am not happier. But
this is presuraption and arrogance. There is
no being, however exalted, that may not on
the sarae ground be dissatisfied. I might,
without injustice, have had nothing ; I ought
therefore to rest contented with any thing.
Oh thou Authoi of my being, deal with me
as seeras best in thy sight. Having a right
to nothing, I claim nothing. Deriving 'all
from mere bounty, I pretend not to prescribe
how much I shall havq. I know that under
thy government I cannot be finally a sufferer,
or raeet with any treatraent that will not be
kind as well as just. Give me what portion
of good thou pleasest, and though I believe

97
this to be infinite, and that thou hast intended
me for an endless life beyond the grave, yet
should I at last find rayself deceived in this,
I wiU bless thee for the present life, and
esteem any little that shall be granted me not
a wrong, but a favour.
In the next place let me, on the present sub
ject, direct your attention to our unworthiness
and guilt. We have all of us sinned, and
broken God's laws. We have departed frpm
our duty, and by many inexcusable transgres
sions exposed ourselves to the displeasure of
our Maker. And is it for such offenders to
be out of humour, if they are not pleased in
all things? Is it for sinners to complain, if
they do not swim in plenty, or if they often
fall into troubles and meet with disappoint
ment? Should they notj even in the worst
circurastances, rather accuse and reproach
theraselvies, than exclaira against providence?
" Wherefore doth a living mari complain — •
a man for the punishment of his sins?" It is
in truth scarcely possible that discontent
should enter the mind of a person, who is duly
sensible of the guilt he has contracted, and the
moral evil by which he has stained himself?
H

98
Again, let rae desire you to consider the
state of the world about you, and the design
and nature of the present state. I have ob
served that the present life is a valuable gift,
and that we possess in it advantages and en
joyments, which make our existence upon the
whole a happy existence. But it should be
reraerabered, that this happiness is not an
unmixed happiness, or a clear sura of enjoy
ment, without any pains or sufferings. On
the contrary, it is (as I have intimated) only
an excess of pleasure above pain, or an over
balance of enjoyment. Frora the happiness
allotted us, there are deductions and abate
ments. Wisdom and goodness require these
abateraents, and without thera it is certain
that the absolute quantity of our happiness
would have been Jess than it is. We ought,
therefore, thankfully to subrait to thera, and
to endeavour to co-operate with our Maker,
by using them for the purpose he intended;
— that is, for the purpose of securing and in
creasing the quantity of happiness granted us.
Frora the cottage up to the throne, — from
feeble infancy to decrepid old age, there are
various pains and uneasinesses which it is
neither fit nor possible that we should escape.
There is no condition of life perfectly happy.

99
There are no enjoyments or pleasures per
fectly pure, and free from every aUoy. The
nature of the present state does not adrait of
this, and we should learn to take our state as
it is. On a sea that would stagnate were
there no wind or waves, is it reasonable to ex
pect, or even to wish, never to be tossed?
In a situation where showers of arrows are
flying round us, can we reckon upon being
never wounded ? Amidst the general crosses
and sufferings of our race, can we look for an
exeraption? Think, whenever discouraged by
disappointments, vexed by calumny, or de
pressed by sickness, that you are only suffer
ing a common lot. Look about you, and sur
vey the condition of others. Is there a human
being that enjoys an uniform happiness, whose
hours pass on always without disturbance, —
who never is tried by any sorrows, never feels
any distress, or suffers any pangs? Could you
find such a huraan being, you would find
(upon iriaking a just estiraate of his state) that
his exeraption was a calaraity to him, and that
the singularity of his case only made him less
a gainer by his existence. But no such case
can be found. All are sufferers in some way
or other. Many labour under great calamities,
and some under calamities, with which our
H 2

100
petty evils will bear no comparison. Did we
attend more to this, and instead of envying
those above us, turn our eyes to the millions
below us, we should be always more disposed
to praise than complaint. When you are suf
fering under any pain, or your temper is
fretted by any misfortune, think of those who
at the same time are just reduced by a bank
ruptcy, from opulence and comfort to penury
and want — or of those who are then burning
in a fever, rotting in a dungeon, or perishing
in a shipwreck.
Such reflections as these will tend more to
quiet you, if you add the reflection that these
greater sufferers may not be more undeserving
than yourselves — some of thera may be much
better. The wisest and the best have often
been obliged to struggle with dreadful evils,
and they may not have exceeded us more in
the excellence of their characters, than in tlieir
difficulties and trials. You may easily recol
lect raany instances of this. What a sufferer
was Christ hiraself? How was he vilified and
insulted— and at last nailed to the cross?
What right have we to better treatraent than
others? Are we oppressed, are we injured,
are we in pain? So are many more in the

101
world, so were many of the best men that
ever lived, — so was Christ himself, our glo
rious deliverer and Saviour.
The discontented mdn forgets what he is,
and where he is. He forgets this life to be a
state of trial and discipline. He forgets that
he is travelling to a country beyond the grave ;
and that in his journey he must expect, sorae
times, to meet with bad roads and inclement
weather. We are, I will suppose, calumniated. But
how can we wonder at this, in a world where
there are so many lawless tongues, and so
many contending interests and prejudices,
which render raen incapable of judging can
didly and impartially of one another. A
consciousness of our own integrity should be
sufficient to arm us against the attacks of ma
levolence and bigotry. When men censure
us unjustty, we should consider that it is not
us they censure, but a creature of their own
imaginations. We are, perhaps, crossed in
our undertakings ; but should we not reflect,
that all human scheraes are precarious in their
issue, and ought we not to have reckoned
upon this when we engaged in them ? What
H 3.

102
then does the disappointment we feel on such
occasions prove, but our own folly. Were we
truly wise, we could never be disappointed;
for we should place our happiness in doing
right, and not in any thing over which we
have no power. We are, perhaps, poor ; but
how little is the difference between the poor
and the rich, as to real enjoyment. A poor
man, who supports himself by honest in
dustry, and whose body is healthy, his sleep
sound, and his mind easy, is unspeakably hap
pier than the pampered voluptuary, who is
continually feeding his lusts, and rioting in
unlawful pleasures. If his rairaent is coarse,
it answers all the ends of rairaent as well as the
gaudiest. If he lives on a plain diet, it is
more conducive to health, and, consequently,
to enjoyment, than the most luxurious. He
has few wants and few incurabrances, and no
flatterers. In short, he is free from the num
berless cares and temptations to which riches
expose men, and which are continually dis
tracting the ambitious and the voluptuous.
Death, perhaps, has torn frora us a valuable
friend, or a dear relative, who was the cora
fort and the delight of our lives, and the recoL
lection raay be continually wringing oUr

103
hearts. Such calaraities are unavoidable in
this state of mortality ; and resignation to the
authority that appoints thera, is the best les
son we can learn. Repining under thera, is
the same absurdity with repining because a
river will flow, or a stone fall to the ground.
What is brittle will break. What is mortal
must die. Our friends are blessings lent us
for a season, and when taken from us, instead
of saying we have lost them, we should say,
we have returned them. We are all bound
the sarae way. We are all dooraed to the
sarae end. But we raay hope to raeet again
in a better state. Blessed, then, be the narae
of the Lord.
Let me further here direct your thoughts
to the short duration of this life, compared
with that for which we are ultimately intend
ed. Be our sorrows or our troubles what they
will, they cannot last long. Death will soon
end them, and amaze our souls with scenes
now unknown and incoraprehensible by us.
Let us prepare for that time, and mind less
every thing temporal. We are oit the
threshold of eternity. Let this quiet the tur
bulence of our passions, and awe our minds
into moderation, with respect to every world-
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104
ly interest. Indeed, could we with due faith,
attend to the transitoriness of this life, and
compare it properly with those boundless
ages which we have before us, and through
which we are to exist, every raortal scene
would vanish, every raortal care would be lost,
no worldly eraoluraents would be able to ex
tort a single wish, or worldly evils a single
groan frora us. Only one business would ap
pear important. But to proceed to one fur
ther argument for contentment. Let me de
sire you to consider the happiness content
raent will bring with it, and how raiserable
the want ofit will raake you. A discontented
man has always an unpossessed something
which corrodes and leavens all his enjoy
raents, however valuable or nuraerous. It
does not signify how rauch he has. Enough
with him is always more, and by pursuing that
unreasonably and eagerly, he often suffers the
loss of every thing.
A man in trade, is, perhaps, in possession
of a fortune, which, could he but think it
enough, would make him easy and respectable
through life. But he wishes to be still
richer. He strikes out into new paths. He
becomes an adventurer and speculator. He

105
hazards all, in order to get more. He
runs himself into difficulties, and at last,
involves in one cotnmon ruin, hiraself, his
family, his friends, and numberless innocent,
but too credulous sufferers. Thus does the
want of contentment lead raen into tempt
ations and a snare, which pierce thera through
with raany sorrows, and drown thera in per
dition. Many are those who are contented
with a little, but few with a great deal. How
happy, corapared with such persons, is he who
lies quiet in the vale of life, free frora worldly
ambition, secure against the storms which he
sees dashing the hopes of others, and anxious
about nothing but being good, and doing
good, and preparing for immortality. The
life of man, (our Lord tells us) that is, the
true happiness of life, does not consist in the
abundance of what he possesses. Godliness
with contentment (St. Paul tells us) is the
chief gain. We brought nothing with us into
the world, and if is certain we can carry nothing
out. Having, then, food and raiment, let us
be therewith content. This important virtue
wfill sweeten every blessing, throw new charms
on the face of nature, heighten the relish of
prosperity, lighten the strokes of adversity,
soften grief, and give us the full share of bliss.

106
intended for us here below. It is not pos
sible to describe properly its favourable influr
ence on our interest. On the contrary, dis
content withers every enjoyraent, darkens
nature, tui-ns plenty into poverty, increases
trouble, and inflaraes the wounds inflicted by
misfortune. If we have not contentment,
it signifies little what we have. Power, pomp,
titles, and all that we see the children of this
world so eagerly courting, will only render us
more deeply and illustriously wretched.
You have now heard enough to recoraraend
contentraent to you : Will you not, then, re
solve to practise it? How raad is it to pursue
the phantoras of arabition and avarice, while
this best reraedy for pain, this surest defence
against trouble, this sovereign cordial in the
cup of life, this choicest of heaven's blessings,
is rieglected? How raelancholy is it to observe
so raany wailing under imaginary evils, rest
less in the midst of affluence, contending (like
birds beating themselves against their cages)
with the necessary course of things, and living
in vexation and turault; whereas, would they
but erabrace this heavenly virtue, and rest
themselves on the wisdom and benignity of
God's universal government, every Teal evil

107
would shrink, every imaginary one would
vanish, every clamorous passion would be si
lenced, and every anxiety, except about do
ing our duty, would be annihilated. As you
love yourselves then. Christians, or the Being
who made you, study to acquire this virtue.
Forget not the reasons for it. which have now
been represented to you. Think that, having
no claim to existence, you might without in
justice have now ' been riothing. Think of
your own unworthiness and sinfulness. Think
of the less happy conditions of multitudes
about you. Think how momentary every
thing in this world is. Think of the misery
of discontent. Look to eternity. Trust in
God, arid whatever state of afflictiori you may
be in, coramit yourselves to hira, being assured
that all is rightly ordered under. his govern
ment, and remember that he has said, " he
will never leave nor forsake you." Thus in
the exercise of patience, contentment, and
hope, will you prove yourselves his dutiful
children; and his peace, which passeth all
understanding, will ever keep your hearts and
minds through Jesus Christ.

108

SERMON VL

ON THE OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.

Jeremiah xxiii. 24.
Can any hide himself in secret places that I
shall not see him ? saith the Lord. Do not I
flll heaven and earth ? says the Lord.
"jV /TY design from these words is to dis-
-*-^-^ course to you on the omnipresence of
the Deity. The descriptions which are given
us in the sacred writings of this attribute of
the Deity are very striking. " Hefllleth" my
text says, " heaven and earth." In other
passages \^ are told, " that the heavens, and
heaven qf heavens cannot contain him, — thaf
there is no darkness or shadow of death that
can hide us from him, — that his eyes are in
every place beholding the evil and the good —
that all things are naked and open to him, —
that there is not any creature that is not mani-

fest in his sight, and that in him we live, and
move, and have our being." But the most
striking representation of this attribute is in
the 139th Psalm from the 7th to the 12th
verse. " Whither shall I go from thy spirit ?
or whither shall I flee from thy presence ? If I
ascend up to heaven thou art there. If I
make my bed in hell thou art there. If I take
the wings of the morning, and fly to the ut
termost parts of the sea, even there shall thy
hand lead me. If I say, surely the darkness
shall cover me, even the night shall be light
about me; yea, the darkness hideth not from
thee, but the night shineth as the day. The
darkness and the light are both alike to thee."
In considering this subject I shall first give
you an account ofthe proofs of God's omni
presence ; 2dly, I shall offer some observations
on the mannerof it; and, lastly, raention the
influence which it ought to have on our tem
pers and conduct.
The proofs of God's jmnipresence are taken
chiefly frora the foUowing considerations ;
first. It is implied in his being the cause and
author of all things. It would be absurd to
•suppose that he can be excluded from any

nor
part of that universe to which he has given
existence. His presence raust be coraraensu
rate to his works, and these most probably
are boundless in extent. As there is no me
dium between saying that God created from
eternity, and saying that an eternity passed
before he created, so there is no raediura be
tween saying that the creation is boundless,
and saying that there is an infinity of space
in which nothing exists, and, consequently,
that the effects of divine power and goodness
actually displayed are npthing to those not
displayed. And since all that is finite is no^
thing to what is infinite, this is the sarae with
saying that the good done by divine goodriess
is nothing to that which might have been
done, and that perfect benevolence has been
from eternity an inactive and dormant prin
ciple. We may then reckon that there are
worlds, and systeras of worlds, which occupy
immensity and to which God as the Maker of
all things raust be present. I ara sensible
that this is a truth, which, when we closely
consider it, overwhelms and confounds us.
But it is forced upon us by some ofour clearest
ideas, and I do not see how we can avoid the
acknowledgment of it without running intp
contradictions. But setting it aside; let us
9

Ill
at present satisfy ourselves with considering
creation as limited. The argument now sug
gested, proves that God is present to the
whole of it, and this is sufiicient to all prac
tical purposes. It is necessary to add, that
his presence must not only be thus co-exten
sive with his works, but that they owe their
preservation to his presence; or, in other
words, that he is not only present, but actively
present in every part of nature, and that were
he for an instant to suspend his agency, the
whole frame of the world would fall to pieces,
and all beings expire.
His power, continually exerted, is the
source of all the efficacy in nature, the first
mover in every motion, and the life of all that
lives. This is implied in the nature of mat
ter as an inert substance, destitute of active
powers, and no lesa capable of changing its
own state of raotion or rest, than of changing
its own figure. This property of matter is the
foundation of aU sound philosophy. It is laid
down as the first principle, by the first and
greatest of all philosophers*. On this prin
ciple he builds his demonstratioris, and from
* Sir Isaac Newton.

112
it he has deduced those discoveries by which
the world has lately been so much enlightened ;
and if it is a just principle, as it undoubtedly
is, it follows certainly that matter can of itself
do nothing ; and that all the laws \by which
the order of the world is raaintained, raust be
derived frora a cause not material. That law
of gravitation in particular which makes all
bodies near the earth to descend to the earth,
and which keeps the raoon and the planets in
their orbits, must be resolved ultiraately into
the never-ceasing energy of the Maker of our
system ; just as the motion of every wheel in
a clock or watch depends ultimately on the
constant action of the spring or the weight.
The same observation is applicable to all the
other laws ofthe material world, and to all the
powers that operate in it. The self-raotion of
matter cannot produce those laws and powers,
because it is entirely passive; and were it
even otherwise, it would be irapossible for the
different parts ofit to conforra theraselves in
such a manner to their different situations,
and to act so much in concert with one
another, as to produce those laws and powers*
This, I say, would be impossible, even on the
supposition that matter is an active substance,
^nd capable of moving itself The velocity^

113
for instance, and the force with which the law
of gravity makes any given particle of matter
to move, depends on the number and the
situation of other particles at the distance of
millions pf miles from it ; and since it is not
present to those other particles, it cannot
possibly, were it even intelligent as well as
active, be capable of governing itself by their
number and situation, so as, by any energy of
its own, to be the cause of the motion com
municated to it. There is, therefore, an ani
mating principle distinct from raatter, and su
perior to it, and present to every atom of it,
which is continually acting upon it, which
preserves corporeal nature, and on whose
universal influence its order and existence
depend. Let us here pause awhile, and think what a
view this account gives us of the omnipresence
of the Deity. It was the hand of the Deity that
first formed the sun and other stars, and it is
in consequence of that energy of his which per
vades a,ll things that they are continually com
municating light and heat to numberless
worlds. It was his power that projected the
planets in their orbits, and that is always hold
ing them in by the force of gravity. It is by

114
Him that the moon perforras its revolutions and
raises the ocean in its course. It is frora Hira
that storms and earthquakes derive their
dreadful force. It is He that gives all the ele
ments their different qualities and uses, and
that is continually forraing the bodies of
plants and aniraals. Even a stone never falls
to the ground without Him. There are, it is
true, nuraberiess second causes, but they all
depend on Him ; and He is, in every event
that falls under our notice, the first cause.
There are, in the frame of the universe,
wheels within wheels, beyond our utmost
coraprehension. But the power that keeps
them always in motion, and the spring in
which they all terminate, is his agency. Those
laws, by which nature is conducted and raain
tained, are only his power acting every where
according to established rules. He is not
only the original giver, but the constant pre
server of life and raotion to every creature.
By Hira our puke beats, and our hearts dilate
and contract. By Hira we hear, we speak, we
feel, and see. The raechanisra of our bodies,
and the laws of union betweeri thera and our
souls, are perfect raysteries to us. We know
not how the impressions on our senses pro
duce the ideas accompanying them ; how

L15
memory is performed by the instrumentality
of the brain, or how our wills instantaneously
move our merabers ; but we know that the
unremitting influence of the Deity is the pri
mary cause. The whole of what we are de
pends absolutely upon Him; and that not
merely in the sense that he made us what we
are, and therefore can destroy us when He
pleases ; but in the sense that the exertion of
his power through our whole duration, is ne
cessary to our continuing what we are. Our
ruin would be the imraediate consequence of
his leaving us a moment to ourselves. It is,
in short, nothing to say that God is always
present with us. He is, likewise, always
working within and without us. In aU beings
He is inmost. The life of those lives, and the
soul of those souls ; the acting principle in all
material energies ; the light by which we see
light, and the ineffable and incomprehensible
spirit that moves, connects, and sustains the
vast creation.
With what propriety, then, is it said in my
text, that He fJUs heaven and earth, and, by
St. Paul, that " of Him, and to Him, and
through Him, are all things." His instant care
and omnipresent influence we are perpetually
I 2

116
feeling. He is the parent of bliss, the sup
porter of nature ; of Hira the whole world is
fuU; by Hira the whole world subsists, and to
Him be all glory and praise !
The reasoning I have now used, goes only
to prove that the presence of the Deity ex
tends as far as his works, and that, supposing
these bounded, it does not prove the strict
immensity of his nature, or his presence to
the whole infinity of space. The arguments
which demonstrate this, are more abstruse ;
but they are also more decisive, and will
assist us in gaining more correct and just
ideas of this attribute. I will, therefore,
hope for your attention while I endeavour
briefly to represent thera.
1st. It is iraplied in the idea of an unori-
ginated Being, that there can be nothing to
limit Hira. All liraitation requires a liraiting
cause, and therefore cannot be applicable to
that Being who is the cause of all causes.
This arguraent proves the infinity of all the
perfections of the Deity. Whatever He is. He
raust be perfectly so ; all imperfection im
plying contingency and dependence. But this
reasoning is applicable with particular clear-

117
ness to his omnipresence. Were his existence
determined to one place, rather than to
another, it must have been so deterrained by
sorae prior cause; and, consequently. He could
not have been the first cause.
2dly. That necessity by which the Deity
exists, can have no relation to one place more
than to another. It must be the sarae every
where that it is any where. This is perfectly
exemplified in the case of abstract and neces
sary truths. All such truths are equally
truths at all tiraes, and in all places ; and
were they not so, they would not be neces
sary but contingent truths. God exists np-.
cessarily in the same sense ; and it is no less
a contradiction to suppose his presence con
fined within any limits, than it is to suppose
that it is not true every where tliat the whole
is greater than a part. But it is proper that
I should just observe further, what is most of
all decisive and satisfactory in this instance,
that the infinity itself of space is npthing but
the infinity of the divine nature. There is,
in my opinion, no room for entertaining a
reasonable doubt about this. Infinite dura
tion and infinite space exist necessarily. It is
a contradiction to suppose them not to exist.
I 3

118
They are the foundation of all other existence.
They are, therefore, without doubt, the neces
sary nature of the Deity. They are his eter
nity and iraraensity. It is impossible that
any consideration should give us so striking a
view of the presence of God with us as this
does. He is the tirae and place in which we
exist ; and to think of flying frora his pre
sence, is the very same as to think of existing
no wher'fe, and being nothing. He presents
himself to us in every moment. He raeets us
in every thought. He is the power by which
we act, the vital energy by which we live,
and the very possibility of our being. In a
word, he is so near us, that (strange as it raay
seem) for this very reason, we do not perceive
him. He is so familiar to us, and intimate
with us, that we overlook him ; and so unwil
ling are we to believe that he is really so near
us as he is, that we are apt to run ourselves
into contradiction in order to avoid acknow
ledging it. I will just mention a proof of
this. God is present with us in tirae and
place, and, I will add, in all abstract truth
and possibles ; and such is their reality, that
no reality can be conceived without thera.
They are eternal, imrautable, self-existent,
and infinite. It raight be expected that such
1

119
properties should iraraedlately force every
man to acknowledge in them the divine
nature. But, instead of this, raany learned
raen have asserted that they have no existence-
I cannot think of a proof more mortifying of
the imperfection of the human understanding.
Thus it is, because every thing, the Deity be
comes nothing to Us.
But I have, I fear, entered much too far into
these disquisitions. In what follows of the
present discourse, I will endeavour to keep to
what is more obvious and practical. I pro
posed, at the beginning of this discourse, after
proving God's oranipresence, to offer some
observations on the manner of it. On this
subject I would desire you to consider :
1st. That God is to be conceived as pre
sent with us, in all we think, as well as in all
we do. The raotives of our actions, our most
secret views and purposes, and the inmost
recesses of our hearts, lie naked before Hira.
We are apt to think ourselves private within
the inclosure of our own breasts ; but even
here all is open to Him. He observes every
thought in its source, every sentiment as it is
fornled, every wish as it rises.
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120
2dly. He is present with us not only by
his inspection, but by his influence. Were
his presence no more than a presence of
notice, our annihilation would be the irarae
diate consequence. His hand is always work
ing to preserve us, and to keep up the springs
of life and motion within us. He is present
with the whole world by an influence which is
instant, all pervading, and all sustaining.
3dly. He is present with us, not only by
his notice and his influence, but by his sense.
It is true, in a strict sense, that we are apt to
believe that he is one with our natures. His
sense penetrates ours. It is, as I have already
said, no less in Him than by Him that we exist.
In other words, He is present with us not vir
tually only, but substantially. He is with us
in every raoraent that raeasures our duration,
and in every necessary truth that employs our
understanding. We see Him in every view
we take of places and distances. We are
conscious of Him in every idea that passes
through our rainds. We feel Hira in every
effort we make, in every breath we draw, and
in every object that gives us either pain or
pleasure; and the reason we do not more

121
recognize Him, is the mistake and inattention
which I have just mentioned.
4thly- It follows, from hence, that He is
present with us in a manner in which no other
being can be present with us. It is a pre
sence more real, more close, more intimate,
and raore necessary. The considerations I
have suggested plainly prove this. But we
might have known it without the aid of any
such considerations. For what can be more
likely, than that the presence of the Creator
to the creature, — ofthe first mind to the mind
derived frora it, must be different from any
other, and of a nearer and closer nature?
Once more, it is proper to observe, that God
is present alike in all places. His sense pene
trates alike all beings. It is here in you and
me. It is equally in every inhabitant of this
earth, in all creatures, in all worlds, in all
space. The only difference is, that to sorae
beings He manifests more of his presence than
to others ; or, that in some places the effects
of his presence are more felt. The scriptures
tell us, that " He is in heaven ;" but we raust
not understand this literally. As to his sen
sible presence. He is as much on earth as he
is^ in heaven. The difference, as I have just

122
said, is only in the representation and display
of it. In heaven, and among ahgels and
superior beings. He is raore recognized, and
his goodness is exhibited with a brighter
lustre. But the scripture language, when it
coraraands us to conceive of God as being in
heaven, raeans often, not so much as this. It
is intended chiefly to express (by a phrase
ology accoramodated to our conceptions) the
supreme dominion of the Deity, and his
sovereign authority over all beings. Thus,
the expression that Christ is gone into heaven,
and is at the right hand of God, certainly sig
nifies no more than that he is exalted to do
minion under God ; or, as it is elsewhere ex
pressed, that all power is given Hira in heaven
and earth.
The practical iraprovement of this subject
is very obvioUs, and I shall represent it in the
following inferences.
1st. Since God is equally present every
where, we ought not to imagine that our wor
ship of Him can be more acceptable in one
place than in another. A wretched supersti
tion of this kind has prevailed among man
kind, which we Ought carefully to iavbid, re-

123
mehibering that there is no consideration that
can draw Hira to any building we can erect for
Him, or any spot on which we may not with
equal advantage offer to Hira our prayers. A
sigh or a whisper addressed to Hira in the
fields, or in our closets, is no less regarded by
Hira, than if it was offered in a church, and
accompanied with ever so rauch pomp and
solemnity. To this purpose St. Paul preach
ed to the Athenians, Acts, xvii. 22, " Ye men
of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are
too superstitious. God, that raade the world
and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord
of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in teraples
made with hands, for He is not far from every
one of us, for it is in Him we live and raove
and have our beings." Were there any place
in which it can be justly said, that God is
more present than another, it is the breast of
a virtuous man. This is the temple that we
ought to erect for Him. This is the only
habitation in which He has any particular de
light, or to which He can give any preference.
2dly. Since God is the only being that is
present with us in the manner I have de-.
scribed, there can be no other being who is
the proper object of our prayers. It is, in-

124
deed, probable that we may be objects ofthe
inspection of many other invisible and spiri
tual beings, whose presence is extensive in
proportion to the superiority of their natures.
But we do not know enough of thera to war
rant any invocation of them. There is but
one Being concerning whora we are sure that
He is in such a raanner present with us, when
ever we utter any devout wishes, as to be
capable of hearing and answering thera ; and,
consequently, there is but one Being to whora
we ought to offer thera. All worship directed
to other Beings is idolatry.
3dly. The consideration of the constant
and intimate presence of the Deity with us,
ought to encourage us in our addresses to him.
He is, as you have seen, one with our natures,
and as mueh present with us as we are with
ourselves ; and He is withal our benevolent
parent, and therefore no pious wish of our
hearts, no virtuous breathings of our minds,
no desire of bliss that can be directed to Him,
can escape his notice, or fail of being properly
attended to» It is unpossible that any greater
encourageraent can be given us to pour out
our souls before Hira at all times with hope
and confidence.

125
4thly. A reverential fear should continu
ally possess us, since God is always with us.
In every place we should feel as the patriarch
Jacob did when he said of Bethel, Surely God
is in this place; how dreadful is this place!
Could we enter properly into the consider
ations I have suggested, this would necessarily
be their effect. Our minds would be open to
constant awe. The ground, wherever we
trod, would be the same to us with consecrated
ground, and every corner to which we could
go would be converted into a sanctuary.
Sthly. The presence of God with us should
deter us from sin. This, as the scriptures tell
us, is the abominable thing that his soul
hateth. Let us then avoid it in his presence.
Let no sinister view, — let no base desire or
evil passion shew itself under his eye. Think,
what the effect must be of incurring his disap-
'probation. Think that He sustains you, — that
on his influence all your pleasures and aU
your pains depend, and that He has an abso
lute command over all your powers; and think,
at the same time, that wherever He is, there
He is with all his attributes of perfect recti
tude, wisdom imraaculate, and justice in
flexible, and that, consequently, every wrong

126
thought indulged in his presence, and rauch
raore every criminal action done before Hira,
must (by offering Him an affront and an insult)
have a tendency to bring upon you all that is
dreadful. 6thly. The presence of God with us should
support us in the perforraance of our duty,
and quicken us in a virtuous course. When
eraployed in any acts of piety or charity, when
conscious of any honest purpose or effort, the
reflection on a present Deity should aniraate
us and render us superior to all difficulties,
knowing that He, the sovereign of nature,
stands by us and is pleased with us, and that
at last (whatever may happen to us) we raust
be distinguished by Hira frora the workers of
iniquity, and raade infinitely happy. Let us
suppose, that we were every moraent open to
the notice of all our fellow-creatures, and that
no thought or wish could rise within us with-.
out their knowledge and observation. It is
easy to conceive how careful this would ren
der us of our thoughts and actions. But the
truth is, that we are open to a notice which is
infinitely raore awfuls and infinitely more im
portant than the notice of the whole world.
Should not this render us unspeakably more

1^27
careful of our thoughts and actions. It is
possible, indeed, that there may be a crowd
of superior beings who are attentive to us, and
ready to salute us with their praises whenever
we make a virtuous effort, — but what is this
to that inspection of the Supreme Being which
we are sure of, and that favour which we may
expect from hira as far as he sees us virtuous
and worthy? Let this engage us to exert our
selves to the' utraost in every thing that is
praiseworthy. There is no arabition that is
not poor, that is not trivial, that is not con
teraptible corapared with this. If God loves
us, all wise and good Beings raust love us,
and the whole world will be raade to contri
bute to our happiness.
Once more, the consideration of God's pre
sence with us should encourage and comfort
us under every pain and trouble. A present
Deity is a present friend, and a present helper
in every time of need. He sees our suffer
ings and He made us to be happy, and there
fore we may be assured that He would not
permit any of our sufferings for a raoraent,
were they not proper to be perraitted. To
say no raore. There exists an eternal wisdora
and benevolence, which, in union with al-

128
mighty power, pervades all things, governs all
things, and presides over all events. No im
proper sufferings, therefore, can find admit
tance into nature, and all must end well.
Let us take shelter in this truth, amidst all
the trials of this life. It is indeed the raost
encouraging and the raost grateful of all
truths.

129

SERMON VIL

ON selp-examination.

Psalm cxxxix. 23. 24.
Search me, 0 God, and know my heart; try me
and know my thoughts; and see if there be
any wicked way in me, and lead me in the
way everlasting,
T^HIS psalm begins with a striking descrip-
-*- tion of the omnipresence of the Deity,
and concludes with the prayer now read.
The consideration that God is always inti
mately present with us, and with aU beings,
or as the Psalmist expresses hiraself, that he
knows our down-sitting and uprising, and un..
derstandeth our thoughts afar off, that he besets
us before and behind, and is acquainted with all
our ways: This consideration, I say, has a
particular tendency to engage us to pray to
hira in the words of my text, " that he would
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130
search us and know our hearts — that he would
try us and know our thoughts, and see if there
be any wicked way in us," or, in other words,
that he would assist us in discovering our own
characters and shew us wherein we do amiss.
My present design frora these words is to
discourse to you on the duty of self-exarain
ation. Were I raore anxious to entertain and
arause than to edify ray hearers, I raight, per
haps, chuse to decline such a subject, or at
least avoid treating it in that plain and serious
manner which I propose; for there are few
subjects to which many persons care less to set
their thoughts. But whether agreeable or
disagreeable, it is without doubt a subject
of the last iraportance. Little good can be
done to raen by public admonition till they
can be persuaded to exaraine theraselves, and
to apply what they hear to their own cases.
General exhortations to repentance and vir
tue must be useless, as far as those to whom
they are directed think (for want of due exam
ination) that they are already safe and virtu
ous, and therefore have no need of thera. Let
us, therefore, now for a few minutes employ
our thoughts in the work of self-examin
ation; and, in order to find out the true state
of our characters, let us consider what answer

131
We can give to such enquiries as the following ;
1st. We should ask ourselves, whether we have
ever had any serious thoughts about our own
condition ? I am afraid, that by putting this
single question to themselves, many persons
may imraediately determine that they have no
great reason to be pleased with themselves.
Multitudes seera to indulge an indifference
with respect to every thing religious; they go
on frora week to week, in carelessness and
levity, without feeling any solicitude about
their present characters and future hopes. Let
us then ask ourselves, have we ever thought
in earnest about being truly virtuous? have
we ever felt ourselves alarmed, and taken up
seriously the enquiry, " what shall I do to in
herit eternal life? Is it possible that those can
have repented of sin, who have never been
under any convictions of it ? — that those can
inherit eternal life who do not make it an
object of their attention; or that, contrary to
what takes place in this world, the enjoyments
and honours of another world are to be se
cured without preparing ourselves for them ?
In short, have we ever eraployed ourselves in
the duty of self-examination ? If not, let us
consider whether it is possible that we should
have acquired true goodness. In order to
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132
this, it is necessary that we should have
araended our faults, and in order to the
amendment of our faults, it is necessary there
should be a discovery of thera, and there can
be no discovery of thera without examination.
The like is to be said of any virtues we may
have wanted — of any good we may have left
undone, or any duty we raay have iraproperly
neglected. We have aU of us many deficiences,
and it is examination alone can inforra us
what they are, and how far they are, or are
not inexcusable and dangerous. But further
let us ask ourselves, whether in the coramon
course of our conduct we intend virtue as our
end ? Certain it is, that no one can be virtu
ous without designing it. But some there
are who do not seera to go so far in virtue as
even this. They are led alraost entirely by
views of interest, by the huraour of the rao
ment, or by natural teraper, without ever
setting before theraselves, the whole of good,
the obligations of raorality, the good of raan
kind, and the acquisition of future bliss, as the
guides and ends of their conduct. But let
us reckon the contrary to be true. Let us
suppose that the practice of religious virtue is
really raeant. It is obvious that this is only
the first necessary step to saving goodness.

133
We raust not only mean, but execute. We
must not only intend and resolve, but perse
vere and overcome, and make religious virtue
the principal concern and business of our
lives. Let us then ask ourselves, whether we
do this? whether we seek first the kingdom
of God and his righteousness ? whether we
take more pains to be honest than to be rich,
and prefer a consciousness of integrity to any
temporal advantage.^? These are the leading
points in our characters, and they ought to be
the principal objects of self-examination. Do
we give diligence to secure God's acceptance?
Do we shake off sloth, and press forward with
ardour towards the raark for the prize of the
high calling of God in Christ Jesus ? Or,
though we raean virtue, and look forwards to
eternity, do we sleep and loiter, and content
ourselves with languid wishes, low attainments,
and feeble efforts that are seldom effectual?
Do we think ourselves good because we have
some good in us, and possess perhaps even
some good qualities ? So far we are to be
honoured, but it ought not to satisfy us. The
most vicious men have some good in thera.
Libertines and profligates have often araiable
qualities. It is necessary that we should have
prevailing goodness. The virtuous principle
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134
must be the reigning principle in our hearts.
It is not enough that we love truth and right ;
but we must love them more than any thing
that can come in competition with them. It
is not enough that our attendance on the
duties of piety is constant, our faith sincere,
and our religious profession strict ; but our
profession, our faith, and religious services
must give efficacy to our good resplutions,
deliver us frora evil habits, and produce those
fruits of righteousness which are necessary to
adorn a religious character.
Let us, therefore, exaraine ourselves on
these points. Let us consider in what direc
tion our thoughts generally run, and what it
is that chiefly occupies thera. Let us con
sider whether, in every transaction of busi
ness, our attention is turned, not raerely to
what is raost profitable, but also to what is
most fair, raost equitable, and raost honour
able. The thoughts of a raan of pleasure, are
always taking a direction to pleasure ; of a
covetous raan to his treasures ; of an arabi
tious raan to his honours ; and the considera
tions that influence thera raust, in all their
undertakings, have their • tendency to those
ends. The like is true of a virtuous and reli-

135
gious man. His heart is engaged in his duty
as a moral agent, and an iraraortal being, and
it is this that chiefly employs his thoughts,
and determines his conduct. I am led from
hence, to mention to you two points, which,
when employed in self-examination, require
our particular notice. These are 1st. The
purity of our motives ; and, 2dly. The uni
versality of our obedience.
1st. The purity of our motives should be
particularly enquired into. You well know
that actions may have all the form of virtue
without any of its realities. Works of charity
may be nothing but ostentation and religious
zeal ; nothing but an attachment to opinions
taken up blindly and capriciously. Honesty
may be the effect of worldly policy; and
achievements the mot brilliant, the effect of
a passion for farae. Repentance raay proceed
more frora a sorrow for losses sustained, or
disgrace incurred, than frora a hatred of
vice as such, and shame for having done
wrong. Humility and benevolence are two of the
most amiable virtues. But the former may
be an abject serviUty of spirit, and the latter
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136
a kind instinct destitute of all moral raerit.
Courage raay be fool-hardiness, patience a
constitutional insensibility, and firraness of
mind a blameable obstinacy. A constant at
tendance on the public duties of religion may
be derived from a regard to fashion, to cus
tom, or to some secular advantages ; and the
most vigorous exertions of preachers may be
only a display of talents, and a pursuit of
popularity. In a word, there are scarcely any
virtues which have not their counterfeits ; or
any actions naturally good which may not be
the effect of indirect vice ; nor is it by any
means easy to enumerate all the ways in
which, by concealed principles producing false
appearances, we are liable to be deceived in
estimating our own virtues. Let us then
search diligently into the springs of action
within us, and labour to purify them as rauch
as possible. So far as vain-glory, self-love,
the fear of punishment, or any dispositions
entirely instinctive influence us, so far we
want the proper root of genuine virtue ;
nothing being raorally good, which does not
flow frora an inward relish for virtue on its
own account, and a regard to the will of God,
and the happiness of our fellow- creatures.

137
Such, indeed, are the different casts of
mind, turns of teraper, and varieties of good,
bad, and indifferent motives which are con
tinually influencing us, that it is often very
difficult to distinguish thera, so as to be able
to deterraine how far one or the other of
thera has been concerned in producing our
conduct; and this is, therefore, the most
intricate part of the duty of self-examination.
But it is a necessary part, and there are rules
for assisting us in it, which may lessen its
difficulty. A dis^tinct account of these rules
would be very useful ; but I can only give a
specimen of thera in the following instances.
A raan, who in any case prefers being good to
seeming good, and is private in his charities
and devotions, may be sure that so far he is
sincerely good, and does not act from osten
tation. A person who is naturally vehement,
if he is tractable ; a passionate raan, if he is
gentle ; a tiraorous man, if he is steady; a raan
naturally sour, if he is kind and obliging, raay
be sure, that his virtue is not owing to a happy
favourableness of constitution.
The second point which I have mentioned
as particularly requiring our attention, in ex
amining ourselves, is the universality of our
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138
obedience. This is a necessary test of the
purity of our motives. He that discharges
his duty frora right views, will endeavour to
discharge his whole duty. He that is truly
virtuous, must possess a zeal for aU virtue,
nor can he possibly satisfy himself with any
separation of the duties of morality frora one
another, or any selection of virtues. Genuine
goodness is always uniforra and consistent ;
and it cannot be so if, while sorae parts of
virtue are practised, others are neglected : for
the idea of virtue is the sarae in all its parts.
He that hath said, "thou shalt not steal,"
hath said also " thou shalt not speak evil of
thy neighbour, thou shalt not tell lies, thou
shalt not get drunk, thou shalt not take the
name of God in vain ;" and he that hath said
"thou shalt pray to God in private and in
public," hath also said "thou shalt honor
thy father and thy mother, thou shalt love
thy neighbour as thyself, thou shalt do good
to them that hate thee, thou shalt be fair in
all thy dealings, thou shalt be temperate,
chaste, and faithful." We must, then, if we
would acquire a just knowledge of ourselves,
bear this in raind, and examine whether we
have an impartial respect to all God's com
mandments ; whether we possess, though not

139
a perfect, yet an entire character of virtue j
whether there is any bosora vice that we prac
tise ; any crirainal passion that we indulge ;
any iraportant duty that we neglect.
I might now go on to raention some other
heads of self-examination, and when em
ployed in this way, to urge the necessity of
enquiring how far our hearts are engaged in
our duty, by the delight and ardour we feel in
well-doing, what time we devote every day to
the exercise of good affections before God,
and what endeavours we are using to grow
better, and to extirpate from our characters
every remaining defect and imperfection.
But chusing to confine myself to a single
discourse on this subject, I will only further
beg leave to remind you of the importance of
the duty on which I am insisting, and the
danger of self-deceit. Is it not self-evident,
that the knowledge most important to us is
the knowledge, whether the governor of the
world is pleased or displeased with us ? — the
knowledge whether we possess that righteous
ness of character which is the chief glory of
every reasonable being, and even of God hira
self; and, consequently, the knowledge
whether we are likely to rise or to sink

140
under the divine governraent, and to be
happy for ever, or lost for ever ? What pains
can be too great to answer such enquiries ?
What infatuation possesses us, that we can,
in this instance, act contrary to all the prin
ciples of coraraon sense, and all the dictates
of self-love and providence? If Christ is
coraing to judge the world, to give a triuraph
to virtue, and to punish and exterrainate vice,
should we not consider how we stand with
respect to a period so awful ; and what (should
death now seize us) our fate would then be ?
What pains do raen take in their worldly con
cerns to settle questions of law and property ?
What study is soraetiraes eraployed to dis
cover the sense of an ancient writing, or to
solve a frivolous problera ? How raelancholy
is it that we can be inattentive to a question
which involves our highest interests, and
about which, on the raost sceptical principles,
it becoraes us to be most inquisitive ? How
contemptible is it to study every thing but
ourselves, and to be inquisitive about every
thing but our own final destination ? Self-
enquiry is the proper eraployraent of a rea
sonable being. The capacity of reflecting on
ourselves, and of looking forwards to eternity,
is one of the distinguishing privileges of our

141
natures ; and it is sharaeful to suffer it to lie
dorraant, and to go on regardless of what is
passing within our own breasts, and what raay
happen to us in the vast and astonishing
eternity that lies before us. Think of the
advantages attending self-knowledge. It leads
directly to virtue and to glory. When we
know ourselves, the raptures of hope will
take possession of our minds, should we find
that though imperfect, we are prevailingly
virtuous, and have forsaken every wrong prac
tice. When we know ourselves, we shall
know where to direct our exertions, how to
avoid disappointment, what is requisite to
make us happy, what parts of our characters
are deficient, what faults we have to raend,
what virtues require our cultivation, what God
thinks of us, and in what state of security or
danger we are placed. Such knowledge is
infinitely desirable ; but it cannot be obtained
without an anxious and diligent self-exaraina
tion. Self-deceit is very coiriraon, and it raay
(if not Carefully guarded against) prove fatal.
There is a partiality to ourselves, and an un
wiUingness to look stedfastly at our own cha
racters, which are extreraely hostile to our trUe
interests ; and which, if indulged, raust render
us deaf to all warnings, and bring upon us,

142
while we are saying to ourselves peace and
safety, sudden destruction. In our spiritual
concerns, we often resemble decaying trades
men, who fearing a disagreeable discovery,
and chusing to be deceived, will not exaraine
their accounts. The consequence of which
always is, that bad grows worse, till at last
ruin becomes unavoidable.
Let us, fellow christians, avoid this folly.
Let us consider that our ignorance of our own
state will raake it, if bad, incapable of a
remedy, and expose us to a more dreadful
conderanation. Let us reraember, that to be
deceived here, is to lose the favour of God,
and the kingdom of heaven. Let us reraem
ber further, that a time is near, when God
himself will call us to account, and judge the
secrets of raen by Jesus Christ. Is it not
proper that we should anticipate this tirae by
now calling ourselves to account, and looking
over our own secret history ? My inclinations
lead rae to raention some rules for the per
formance of the duty I am inculcating ; but I
ara afraid of being too tedious, and therefore
shall only just intiraate, that in order to per
forra it profitably and successfully, we should

143
perform it frequently, impartially, and de
voutly. First, we should exaraine ourselves fre
quently. No day should be suffered to pass
without some self-enquiry. In the morning
we should resolve to be upon our guard
through the following day ; to speak evil of
no one, to be contented, patient, and good
tempered ; and in every transaction to main
tain an invariable regard to truth and right.
In the evening, we should recollect how far
we have kept the resolutions of the morhing ;
what indiscretions we raay have fallen into in
the course of the day; what good we have
done ; what teraptations we have resisted ;
or what sins we have coramitted : thus shall
we be advancing continually from strength
to strength in a Virtuous course, and find our
selves at the great day of account nunibered
among the faithful, and made partakers of an
honour and happiness, which are not now to
be conceived of
Again, we should examine ourselves im
partially. When thus engaged, we should
divest ourselves, as far as possible, of all
biasses which may lead us astray, and particu-

144
larly of that pride of heart and partiality to
ourselves which I have before raentioned,
reraerabering the reason we have for being
jealous of ourselves, and apprehending danger
from self-deceit.
Finally, we should examine ourselves de
voutly. I raean as in the presence of that
Being who knows our hearts, and with prayer
to hira that he would assist us in this work,
and not suffer us to fall into any dangerous
mistake. In this way let us be always watch
ing our conduct, and sifting our inclinations
and sentiraents. If we have hitherto neg
lected this duty, our case must be such as re
quires an imraediate application to it. Our
minds must lie waste, and delay may take
away all hope. Let us, therefore, determine
now, that we will take the first opportunity to
retire from the world, to examine our cha
racters, to ponder our steps, and to charge our
hearts with a sense of the necessity of casting
off sloth, and making religious virtue, as it is
our first good, our first pursuit. Let us re
solve, that whatever others do, we will no
longer reraain strangers to ourselves, or suffer
the momentary concerns of this polluted world
to divert our attention from that which alone
will bring us comfort at last.

145
Let us implore that Being, who sees the
inmost recesses of our minds, and to whose
eyes all things are naked and open, that he
would shew us ourselves ; save us from neg
ligence and inconsideration ; that he would
search us, and know our hearts ; try us, and
hnow our ways ; and see if there be any wicked
way in us, and lead us in the way ever
lasting.

146

SERMON VIIL

ON HAVING OUR REJOICING IN OURSELVES.

Galat. vi. 4.
But let every man prove his own work, and then
shall he have rejoicing in himself alone, and
not in another,
MY present purpose does not require me
to enter into any critical examination
of the meaning of these words as they stand
in the context. It is evident they iraply
that the best foundation of every raan's hap
piness is himself; that is, his own temper and
character, and not any thing external to him.
This is a most iraportant truth, and I shall
therefore take occasion frora these words,
1st. To represent to you what it is in our
selves that is the proper foundation of our

147
happiness. 2dly. To explain the particular
advantages that wUl arise from founding our
happiness on the internal causes I shall enu
merate. Let us first consider, what it is in ourselves
that is the proper foundation of our hap
piness ; and it raay be observed here in ge
neral, that it must be grounded on the good
order of the mind, and of its powers and
affections. There is a state of our powers
and affections, which is properly their orderly
state ; and that state must likewise be their
natural and right state: — and their natural
and right state must be that which is raost
favourable to the enjoyment and satisfaction
in which happiness consists. It must be that
which the Author of our minds intended. It
implies wisdom and vigour, and order and
harmony, and therefore it cannot but be the
greatest folly to expect to be happy out of
it. Confusion and discord and disease in a
society necessarily destroy its happiness. Their
natures are the sarae in a character, and
therefore their effect raust be the same.
But to be more particular : Let me desire
you to consider, that the supremacy of con-
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148
science and the subjection of the passions
are absolutely necessary to internal happiness.
Human nature is endowed with a variety of
passions and instincts. They are all by the
Author of our natures placed under the direc
tion of reason, and intended to be subject to
it. This is the proper order and economy
of human nature, and when this order is pre
served, when the passions keep their proper
places, and perforra their proper functions
without encroaching on the authority of that
reflecting faculty which gives raan his deno
raination and distinction ; then, and then
only, does all go on well within hira. Then
only does a man possess the superiority to a
brute, and preserve his rank and dignity.
Then only is he truly a rational being, and
capable of enjoying blessings suited to his
nature, and which can be no where found but
under the dominion of conscience. It is
coramon for men when they gratify their
passions in opposition to their reason, to con
sider themselves as following their nature.
But there cannot be a more absurd sentiment.
The nature of raan should certainly take its
denomination, not from its instinctive and
brutal part, but from its higher and intellec
tual part, — from that part which is immortal

149
and divine, from that moral faculty to which
it belongs to superintend and control all the
inferior powers, and which has been justly
called the Vicegerent of the Deity within us.
It is therefore he who foUows his conscience
that follows his nature. To gratify our
reason at the expence of our passions is
giving our natures their highest gratification ;"
but to gratify our passions at the expence of
our reason, is making ourselves the objects
of our own aversion, and giving our natures a
mortal stab ; for (as some of the ancient phi
losophers have observed) racks and tortures
are not so contrary to the nature of raan as
moral evil.
Such therefore is that internal state whicli
constitutes internal happiness. It includes
particularly the following causes of happiness:
first of all, the prevalence of the mild and
generous affections. There is a raanifest
difference between the several affections of
our minds in respect of their effect on our
happiness. Sorae of thera produce an im
raediate pleasure, and are by their nature
agreeable and delightful feelings. Others
are by their natures internal disturbances
and pains. Of the former kind are gratitude,
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150
benevolence, and compassion, and all th6
social and public affections. Of the latter are
resentraent, envy, and malice, and most ofthe
private and narrow affections. A mind where
the former prevail, has within itself a fund of
agreeable sensations. A grateful and inge
nuous and friendly disposition, so far as it
"forms a character, is so much enjoyment and
satisfaction. On the contrary, the selfish
and narrow affections, (envy, pride, revenge,
and raalevolence) are so much misery intro
duced into a character. The mind that is
under this power is so far a stranger to peace
and quietness and comfort.
Again, self-approbation is another cause of
internal happiness included in the supremacy
of conscience. " Let a man (says St. Paul in
my text) prove his own work;" or (as some
think the original words ought to be trans
lated) " let a man approve his own work, and
then shallhehave rejoicing in himself." "This
(says the apostle in another place) is our re
joicing, even the testimony of our consciences,
that in simplicity and godly sincerity, and not
with fleshly wisdom, we have had our con
versation in the world." Nothing is of so
much consequence to us, as to keep upon

151
good terms with our own reflections. If that
power within us which is appointed to be the
guide and judge of our conduct condemn us,
great must be our distress ; but if it applaud
us, we have a never-failing source of comfort.
A self-approving heart, a soul conscious of
upright views, raust be the seat of serenity
and delight. Agreeable to a coraraon raaxira,
" a good conscience is a perpetual feast." It
gives a feeling of satisfaction, and at the sarae
time of security under God's government,
that, is preferable to all the treasures of the
world. We are a race of frail creatures, just
brought into being in the midst of a scene of
which we see only enough to assure us that it
is vast and incoraprehensible. In this situa
tion it is not possible for us to deterraine
what particular raeasures the scheme of the
divine governraent requires, or what events
may arise as it advances and unfolds itself
But we knpw (and it is sufficient to all good
purposes of our present existence to know)
that whether we can see how or not, all is
rightly directed ; and also that when we fol
low our consciences, we go in that path which
has been marked out to us by our Maker,
and therefore in the path which, whatever
happens, must be most free from danger, and
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^ 152
most likely to end well ; and the conscious*
ness of this must be to a considerate man a
support and a cordial in all circurastances.
In connection with this, it is proper to raen
tion confidence in the Deity, contentraent
under his governraent, and resignation to his
will. It is needless to represent to you the
importance of these dispositions to our hap
piness. The belief that the sovereign power
which produced the universe is united to per
fect wisdom and goodness, is above all things
consoling and beautifying. It has a tendency
to banish from our breasts all disquieting
cares, to cheer us under every trouble, and to
engage us to commit ourselves joyfully and
triumphantly to Providence. Without this
belief every thing looks dark, and the world
becomes a desart, where we can find nothing
that we can contemplate without suspicion
and perplexity. But with it, and with that
acquiescence and confidence which it raust
inspire, all nature acquires a lustre, every sus
picion vanishes, every event appears a part of
a plan for producing universal good, every
thing hostUe takes a friendly forra. In every
storin, a voice is heard whispering peace, and
Our rainds, resting theraselves on the benevo
lence of the divine government, submit and

153
rejoice. What sources of happiness can be
like these ? and what a pity is it that there
should be any who through an unhappy scep
ticism are incapable of feeling it ?
I will only further mention the hope that
springs up in a well-regulated mind, as another
cause of its happiness. We are all of us sen
sible of the influence of hope on our enjoy
raents. It is one of the raost iraportant in
gredients in the cup of life. When it de
parts, the heart breaks, despair takes its place,
and all enjoyraent is lost. But there is no
Such hope as that I have now in view. It is
the hope of the favour of the Sovereign of
the World, and of the future effects of it in a
happy eternity. This is a hope which we
owe chiefly to that unspeakable gift of God
to dying raen, for which we cannot be suf
ficiently thankful. I raean the Christian
revelation. "By the resurrection of Christ
(St. Peter tells us) we have been begotten
again to a lively hope of an inheritance in
corruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not
away, reseirved for us in heaven." " This is
the record (St. John says) that God hath
given us eternal life, and this life is in his
Son." This is in truth an unbounded and

154
ravishing hope; nor is it possible that any
person who attends to it, and brings himself
properly under its influence, should be other
wise than happy. It makes the lot of hu
manity glorious, and furnishes us as it were
with wings, by which we are lifted up on
high, and enabled to look down on this vain
world by seeing even beyond the grave ; and
to consider ourselves as superior beings, the
future associates of angels, citizens of the
heavenly Jerusalem, heirs of God, and joint
heirs with Christ.
This then is the happiness which a man
who approves his own work enjoys, and the
seat of which is in himself alone ; and if you
would form a just idea of it, collect together
the particulars which I have recited, and think
of it as the result of a coraraanding reason
and obedient passions, of an applauding con
science and an honest heart, of a raind satis
fied with itself, and possessing health, order,
and independence ; of a teraper forraed by
the generous affections, of contentment, re
signation, trust in God, a sense of his love,
the belief that all is well under his govern
ment, and the hope of surviving death, and of
being raised up hereafter through the power

155
of Christ to a life of unchangeable and ever-
increasing happiness. Can you conceive of
any blessings equal to these, or of any hap
piness equal to that which they must pro
duce ?
In order to enable ourselves to conceive
how great this happiness is, let us recollect
the following advantages attending it: 1st.
Let us consider how firra and stable its foun
dations are. It raakes a part ofour conscious
ness, and is one with our natures, and there
fore while we retain our consciousness, and
continue to be ourselves, we raust enjoy it.
Being derived from a due order and influence
araong our inward powers, and grounded on
truth and reason, and the constitution of our
rainds, it cannot be fluctuating and preca
rious like other happiness, carrying it with us
in our bosoms, it goes with us every where,
into solitude and coinpany, into the desart
and the city, into houses of mourning as well
as of feasting, into the dark as well as the
bright walks of life, smoothing every rugged
path, throwing a reviving light over every
object, and giving additional pleasure to all
innocent gratifications. This happiness is in
reality best enjoyed in solitude ; for there we
. 2

156
are most left to our own reflections, and most
at liberty to derive from them the pleasures
they are capable of coramunicating : there we
can attend most to our own state and destin
ation and hopes, and consequently feel most
of the joy which in a well-ordered mind they
raust inspire. This proves, that the happiness
I am speaking of is independent of external
events. It is placed above the reach of
chance, and those vicissitudes and crosses
with which huraan life abounds. Being rooted
in our natures, and springing frora what we
are, and not frora what we have ; from our
characters and tempers, and not from our
possessions, it cannot be affected by what
happens to our possessions, or destroyed by
any accidents. Such a man may be poor, or
he may be sick, or he may be disappointed in
his undertakings, and yet be still happy, be
cause his chief good-will still reinains with
hira in the regularity of his passions, the ap
plauses of his conscience, the firraness of his
trust in the universal parent, and the raptures
of his hopes. The persecution of enemies,
the desertion of friends, the attacks of malice,
the violence of bigotry, the wars of eleraents,
and even the ravages of death will leave this
happiness a copious stream which will be

157
still /flowing vvhen the springs of inferior joy
are dried up, and will go on to flow till it
becoraes that fullness of joy, and those plea
sures for everraore Vhich are at the right
hand of God. Think not, fellow Chris
tians, that I am now making a visionary re
presentation to you. The reality of it has
been often experienced. May we so live and
act as to experience it, and find (as many
good men have done) our last days our best
days, and our last comforts our greatest
comforts !
But further, it is a particular recoraraend
ation of this happiness, that it is a pure hap
piness. The passions are fowl springs of
happiness. When gratified in the best raan
ner (that is, when gratified naturally and
raoderateiy) they have a debasing and ener
vating tendency. There is a sense of sharae
annexed to them, and there is no one who,
if he is uncorrupted, can value himself upon
the pleasures they afford, or who can wish to
be thought to place his happiness in them.
The contrary is true of the pleasures I am
describing. They are pure and refined. We
have a perception of dignity in thera, and
there is no man who does not reckon thera

158
(as far as he enjoys thera) his principal honour
and glory.
Once raore, I would* observe that the in
ternal happiness on which I have been dis
coursing, is not only raore stable, more con
stant, more independent, and more pure than
any other happiness, but also of a higher
nature. It is as much higher in its nature,
as what is intellectual and moral is higher
than what is corporeal and sensual, — the rea
sonable part of us higher than the animal
part, — the soul superior to the body, — and a
man superior to a beast. The sources of il
are the same with the sources of the happi
ness of angels. And it may be observed that
this happiness, consisting in a conforraity to
reason, in benevolent dispositions, in acting
like God, and in an assirailation ofour natures
to his nature, is truly and properly a sacred
and divine happiness.
It is indeed the only happiness we ought to
seek with any earnestness, and we have seen
where we are to seek it. It is to be found
no where but in ourselves. Here then let
us look for it. Let us not wander araong ex-
ternal objects in quest of what can exist

159
only in our own bosoms. Let us govern our
passions, raend our terapers, do our duty,
trust in God, and look to another world. If
this is not the foundation of our happiness, it
will not rauch signify what external advan
tages we enjoy. An internal passion will
debilitate and sicken all our powers. We
may be rich or great, or learned, but we
shall not be happy ; for without peace zmthin,
there can be no pleasure ; without a raind
satisfied with itself, there can be no enjoy
ment ; without the hope of God's favour,
there can be no true satisfaction. The tur
bulence of passion, the reproaches of con
science, and the forebodings of guilt raust
throw a cloud over every object, and erabitter
every advantage. Let us then study to guard
our minds against the intrusion of these ene
mies. Let us withdraw our ideas of good
from the vanities that engage the attention
of the children of this world, and fix them
to those blessings which defy the power of
time and chance. Those blessings which will
make our own reflections a paradise to us ;
those blessings which make angels happy ;
those blessings which are accorapanied with
the smiles of heaven, and will be a happy
foretaste of eternal joy.

160
What has been said teaches us to exalt
our ideas of virtue. All the happiness I
have been explaining is included in this one
word. Let us then practise virtue, and re
member that an essential part of virtue is
religion. I wish it was in my power here to
give a just representation of the happiness of
a virtuous man, as it may be deduced from
the observations in this discourse. He is, as
Soloraon says, " satisfied frora hiraself," or as
St. Paul says in ray text, "he has his re
joicing in hiraself" What a distinction and
superiority does this give hira ! What a pri
vilege is it, not to be obliged to search for
the happiness which all desire in creatures,
and the distracting pursuits of the arabitious
and voluptuous, but to find it in God and our
own hearts. Iraagine you see the raan who
is thus happy retiring into solitude, and there
shutting out the noise of this world, col
lecting his thoughts, and giving himself up
to meditation and devotion. Conceive of his
pleasure when he thinks that (however frail
and iraperfect) he is sincere in his attach
ment to the interest of virtue, and not con
scious of any indulged guilt ; and that there
fore he has reason to hope fpr the approba
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161
Beings, who reraembers we are dust, and will
make allowances for infirmities against which
we strive, and which are not inconsistent with
prevailing integrity. With what joy and
wonder does he direct his raind to that Being,
and consider hira as intiraately present with
hira ; the life by which he lives, the power by
which he acts, the reason by which he under
stands, and the very tirae and place in which
he exists. What gratitude and triuraph does
he feel when he reflects that he is the off
spring of infinite goodness, and that he has
been brought forth into an iraraense universe
in which, with innuraerable worlds of fellow-
creatures, he is intended for infinite happi
ness ! How in particular does he rejoice in
that assurance of raercy to sinful raen which
has been given in the gospel, and in that
Deliverer and Saviour who has given hira a
victory over death, and will hereafter " change
his vile body that it raay be like unto his own
glorious body, by that raighty power by which
he is able to subdue all things to hiraself"
He looks into himself; and though he finds
many foUies to lament, he finds at the sarae
tirae reason to believe that he has complied
with the terms of favour required of him.
He finds an honest and faithful heart, the
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162
power of sin broken, though not annihilated,
and ardent wishes to improve. He looks
back on past life, and recoUects raany exer
tions in the service of God and his fellow-
creatures, raany successful struggles in a vir
tuous course, many acts of generosity and self-
denial, raany irregularities of temper cor
rected, and many graces carefully cherished
and cultivated. He looks forward beyond
the grave, and there he sees that better
country into which he is soon to enter ; and
where a government of perfect and perraa
nent peace and virtue is to be erected. See
hira returning from his closet to the world,
and suppose him in prosperity. His supe
riority to the world gives hira the truest en
joyment of it. In health and aflluence every
pleasure is doubled to him by a contented
mind, and an easy conscience. The raodera
tion of his desires and expectations increases
his relish for coramon blessings ; and not
having placed his happiness in them, (that
lying safe within the inclosure of his own
breast,) he can lose them without disappoint
raent or regret. Place hira in adversity.
Conscious rectitude, the force of good princi
ples, and a reliance on the wisdom of God's
government, enable him to bear it with forti-

163
tude, and render hira, under the pressure of
outward evils, firra and cheerful. Bring hira
to his last struggles. Place hira on a sick and
dying bed. See hira even now (as far as the
nature of his distemper will allow) calm and
satisfied. Faith and hope support and ele
vate him. He expects a triuraph oyer death
through the great Redeemer. He falls asleep,
but awakes imraediately, shakes off the dust
of the grave, welcomes the return of light and
life, and rises new-made and glorious, to die
no more.
What a contrast to this representation is
the state ofa wicked raan, as wretched in him
self as the good man is happy ; his heaven-
born mind laid waste and ravaged, — tor
mented by sharae and self-reproach, — raade
to soar with angels, but groveling araong
worras, — God his enemy, — in life unhappy;
undone by death. Here a nuisance; here
after a victim of divine justice. And while
the good man carries a heaven within hira
now, which will terminate in exalted and
endless felicity beyond the grave ; he carries
a hell within him now, which wdl terminate
in a more dreadful hell hereafter.
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164

SERMON IX.

ON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN, AND THE PROPER
IMPROVEMENT OF IT.

Job, viii. 9.
For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing.
TV yTY design from these words is to lay be-
'^^¦^ fore you a general representation of
the imperfection of our knowledge ; and in
order to be sensible of this, let us first con
sider what we know of ourselves. This is the
subject we are most intiraate with, and which
therefore we ought to understand best ; but
yre are indeed in a state of very great igno
rance about it. We carry about with us
bodies curiously raade ; but we cannot see far
into their inward frame and constitution.
We often feel them out of order without

165
being able to tell the cause, or knowing how
to remove it. We experience the operation
of many powers and faculties, but understand
not what they are, or how they operate. We
find that our wills instantaneously produce
raotion in our members ; but when we en
deavour to account for this, we are entirely
lost. The connection, likewise, between cer
tain impressions on our organs of sense, and
the sensations they produce, — the original
springs of aniraal life within us ; the laws of
union between the soul and the body, and the
nature of death, and the particular state into
which it puts us : these and raany other par
ticulars relating to our own beings are abso
lutely incomprehensible to us. We are in
deed often disputing about sorae of them, but
this only proves more strongly our darkness ;
and our best way in general is to take the
frame of our natures as we find it, without
being very^ anxious about discovering the
hidden springs which actuate it. There is
not in short any circurastance of our exist
ence, or any one of our bodily or our raental
powers, which has not in it soraething to per
plex us ; and one of the greates mysteries to
man is man. M 3

166
But from ourselves let us advance to the
objects that surround us, and consider what we
know of this earth and its constitution and
furniture. Almost all that we see of things
is their outsides. The substance or essence
of every object is unintelligible to us. The
internal fabrick of the bodies around us, on
which their essential properties depend, is
concealed frora us. We cannot discern a mil
lionth part of the art and workmanship in the
lowest plant. Nay, there is not a particle of
dust which has not enough in it to puzzle and
confound the highest huraan understanding.
We dwell on this earth, but we know little
of it. There are many parts of it vvhich our
discoveries have not reached, and all below its
surface is necessarily hidden from us. We
observe the phoenomena of nature around us,
but know not whence they corae, or whither
they go. We see no raore than a link or two
in the iraraense chain of causes and effects.
There is not a single effect which we can
trace to its priraary cause. There is not one
event of which we can say that we are ac
quainted with all its connections and issues.
But suppose we were acquainted with the
whole of this earth, and with the causes of all
that happens in it, even this would be nothing.

167
For what is this earth to the whole solar
systera ? How little do we know of the sun
and of the worlds which raove round hira ?
What is light, and how does the sun dart it
forth on all sides with such inconceivable
velocity ? How are the^lanets furnished and
peopled ? What are the coraets, and for what
particular purpose were they created ?
But further; suppose we were acquainted
with the whole solar systera, still we should
know next to nothing ; for what is the system
ofthe sun to the systera of the universe?
A thorough coraprehension of the one would
help us but a little way towards comprehend
ing the other. There are nuraberiess systeras
besides this in which our lot is cast, many of
them probably more grand and beautiful. It
is not possible for us to iraagine what brighter
scenes enlighten other worlds. AVhat won
derful effects of infinite power, wisdora, and
goodness are displayed in the reraoter districts
of the creation ; or what new plans of nature,
and new scenes of being and bliss may take
place in the boundless regions of the uni
verse. But to proceed yet further : suppose
we could take in the complete prospect of
God's works, and were as well acquainted
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168
with the whole extent of created existence as
we can be with any single object in it, even
this would be coraparatively nothing ; for still
there would reraain unknown an infinity of
abstract truths and possibles. It cannot be
thought without the greatest absurdity, that
Almighty power has exhausted itself, or that
the whole of truth and existence are actually
exhibited in the present universe. There
must therefore reraain an infinity behind.
Though we had a perfect, knowledge of the
iraraense universe, and of its whole history ;
though we were acquainted with the whole
scale of being as it rises in endless gradation
above us, and with all created existence, it
would be still true that we knew nothing com
pared with what remained possible to be
known. It raay be worth while for us in this place
to attend particularly to our ignorance of the
plan and conduct of divine providence in the
governraent of the universe. That the course
of events is under the best direction, or in
other words, that there is a perfect order of
administration in nature ; this in general we
may know, and it is enough to comfort and
support us amidst all trials and difficulties.

169
But we cannot say wherein consists the fit
ness of raany particular dispensations of pro
vidence. We see little or nothing of the vast
scherae of the divine adrainistration. There
is a depth of wisdora in all God's ways, which
we are incapable of tracing, and though Judg
ment and Justice are the habitations of his
throne, yet clouds and darkness are round about
him. There are raany circurastances in the
present condition of raan which appear to us
strange and unaccountable. The origin of
evil, for instance, is a point which in all ages
has perplexed human reason. In the midst
of demonstrations of infinite skill and benevo
lence, difficulties continually occur to us ; nor
is there a single view of nature and provi
dence to be taken, which is not sufficient to
convince a considerate person that he is in
the highest degree an incorapetent judge of
thera. But in the last place, let us on this occasion
carry our thoughts to the Deity hiraself, and
consider what we know of Hira. It is nothing
to say, that our ideas of Him are imperfect
and inadequate. They are undoubtedly in
many particulars very erroneous. His nature
is absolutely unfathomable to us, and in the

170
contemplations of it we see ourselves lost.
What astonishing objects are self-existence,
absolute eternity, and immensity, and infinite
power and intelligence ? We know these to
be attributes of the Deity ; but when we re
volve them in our minds, they amaze and stun
us ; and in some respects we are scarcely able
to free our notions of thera from contradic
tions. The difficulties however which we
here raeet with are by no means to be won
dered at. I have already observed that we
cannot coraprehend the essence of the lowest
inaniraate object ; how incoraprehensible then
must the essence of the ever-blessed Deity
be ? The minutest effect in the creation is
above our faculties ; how much above them
must the Cause hiraself be ? We are over
powered and confounded by the view of
God's perfections as they appear to us by
reflection frora his works ; how is it possible
that we should be able to bear the direct and
iraraediate view of thera as they exist in his
nature ? Did we thoroughly coraprehend all
created existence, the Creator himself would
still be incoraprehensible. There would still
reraain in His necessary and boundless intel
ligence an infinity to which our understandings
could not reach.

171
You have now seen in sorae measure, how
great huraan ignorance is. Whether we con
sider ourselves, the objects raost farailiar to
us, this earth, the wide universe, or the pro
vidence and perfections of God, we see our
selves involved in impenetrable darkness.
The coraparison of what we know of the
world with what we do not know of it, is
enough to strike us with the deepest convic
tion of almost total ignorance. But if we will
corapare what we know with the whole extent
of possible as well as actual existence, or with
the infinity of abstract truth and the Divine
perfections, we shall find it to be strictly true,
that our knowledge bears just the sarae pro
portion to our ignorance that an instant does
to eternity, or a point to iraraensity.
After this representation of our ignorance,
let rae desire you in the next place to attend a
little to the foundation or reason of it. There
is no occasion for enlarging much here. That
imperfection of our knowledge which I have
described is plainly owing to the following
causes :
1st. The narrowness of our faculties. It
might be sufficient to say on this head, that

172
our capacities of knowledge are finite ; for it
appears frora what has been said, that this
alone lays the foundation of infinite igno
rance. But to say this of man would be very
frivolous ; for it would be saying no raore
than is necessarily true of the highest created
intelligence. We appear to be very low in
the rank of intelligences, and it raust there
fore be expected that our powers of percep
tion should be weak, and our inlets of know
ledge sdanty, in proportion to this our low
rank. So weak indeed are our intellectual
powers, and so iraperfect our reason, that we
see raen continually iraposed upon by every
specious appearance that offers itself; rais
taking shadows for realities, and erabracing
the grossest absurdities as the raost iraportant
and sacred truths.
But 2dly. Another reason of our ignorance
is the lateness of our existence. We are but
of yesterday. We are children lately intro
duced into the world, and therefore we think
and speak like children. We are not yet of
any standing in the creation. We have not
had time to see much of it, and on this
account it is irapossible that we should know
rauch of it. Our faculties are capable of un-

173
speakable iraprovement ; but they are now in
the first step of their progress, and conse
quently frail, and weak, and tender. The
light of reason is as it were but just kindled
within us, and therefore must be dim and
faint. Again, let us consider how disadvantageous
our situation is for observing nature and
acquiring knowledge. We are confined to a
point of this earth, which itself is but a point
corapared with the rest of the creation. It is
not possible for us to go abroad to visit any of
the remoter regions of nature. We there
fore see nothing of the world, and for this
reason can know nothing of it. The uni
verse is wide, and vast beyond any thing we
can imagine. The scheme of the divine
governraent is of unlimited extent. It is
made of nuraberiess parts, and reaches through
a long succession of ages. Of such a scherae
what can we be capable of knowing? What
can such short-sighted creatures, iraprisoned
in flesh, and shut up within the narrowest
limits of time and place, — what can children,
whose faculties are scarcely opened, and who
very lately were nothing, — what can such
beings know of the order of the immense

174
creation, of the plan of eternal Providence, or
of the unsearchable ways and attributes of the
Deity? If we attend to these observations, we raust
perceive that we cannot but be in a state of
the greatest' ignorance ; and we should re
member, that though some of them raay in a
lower degree be applied to all created intel-
gences, yet they are in a raore particular
manner applicable to ourselves. Other beings
have more perfect senses and higher powers ;
they are of longer standing in the creation,
and have seen more of the order of the world,
and the proceedings of Providence ; and there
fore they must be better acquainted with
truth, and with nature, and with Providence.
It is not indeed possible for us to conceive
how great and knowing and perfect some of
God's reasonable creatures raay be. What,
particularly, raust those creatures be who are
the first of God's productions, who frora the
beginning of time to the present moment
(that is, for nuraberiess ages) have been ob
serving the course of the Divine governraent,
and continually iraproving? Such beings
probably exceed us unspeakably raore than an
archangel exceeds a reptile in the dust. They
11

175
must have acquired a knowledge of infinity
with respect to us. But still even they are
nothing in respect of the Deity, and they may
be said to know nothing corapared with the
whole extent of infinite truth and possibility.
Though now iraproved to a degree that is en
tirely incomprehensible to us, they have still
room for further infinite iraproveraents ; and
they will have the sarae roora after the yet
higher iraproveraents of numberless ages to
come. What reflections are these ? What a
tendency have they to reduce us to nothing in
our own esteera ?
I shall now conclude this discourse with the
foUowing application of what I have said-
There are several iraportant uses to which we
may apply the account I have given of our ig
norance. In the first place, it is obvious that
it ought to teach us the profoundest humility.
There is nothing that we are raore apt to be
proud of than our understanding; but we
could not be capable of this, did we see our
ignorance as it is, or duly consider how little
we know, and how inconsiderable we are,
corapared with other reasonable beings. There
is not a more ridiculous object in nature than
a proud man, or a poor blind creature who is

176
but of yesterday vain of his understanding,
swelled with a conceit of his superior wisdora,
and fancying hiraself capable of judging ofthe
works and ways of the Deity. Let us endea
vour to be wise enough to avoid this raon
strous folly. The highest point of knowledge
to which we can attain is the knowledge of
our ignorance. This has been the effect of
true knowledge wherever it has been found.
Socrates was the wisest raan in the heathen
world. But he tells us that he had been pro
nounced by an oracle wiser than other raen,
only because he knew better his own igno
rance. The further we proceed in real ira
proveraent, the larger prospect we have of the
boundless fields of science, and of the occasion
and room there is for improvement. The
deeper we look, the raore we descry of the
fathomless abyss of truth. The more we
study the constitution of nature, and the dis
pensations of Providence, the more we raust
be convinced that they are above our facul
ties, and that the causes of the raost farailiar
appearances are unknown to us. None,
therefore, but shallow rainds can indulge
pride ; nor is there a stronger proof that a
raan has no reason to be proud, than his dis
position to be so. A set of beings, bom and

177
educated in a cave, might be led to think
that what they see in this one little cell was the
whole world. But take them out to the light
of day, and shew them the wide-spread earth
and the spacious firmaraent, and they will be
iramediately struck with a sense of their own
littleness and ignorance. True wisdora has an
effect on the raind similar to this. While in
the state of comraon raen or of half-thinkers,
we are apt to believe that we can account for
every thing, and that within the circle of our
own affairs is coraprehended in a manner the
whole creation. But as soon as the light of
true wisdora enters our rainds, and our views
are enlarged, we feel our own nothingness
and darkness. We are forced to despise our
selves for giving way to pride, and to fall
down in astonishraent at the depth of the di
vine councils, and the vastness of the creation.
I am led from hence to observe 2dly, that
the account I have given of our ignorance
may be of particular use in answering many
objections against Providence, and in recon
cUing us to the orders and appointments of
nature. We know enough to be sure that the
frarae of the world is the effect of infinite
wisdora. Every object we see displays in its
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178
structui*e so much inconceivable skiU as is
sufficient to demonstrate this. Whatever
difficulties therefore occur to us, in contera
plating the order of nature and the plan of
God's governraent, we ought in all reason to
lay to the account of our ignorance. It is
rauch less wonderful that we raeet with raany
difficulties in our enquiries, than it would be
if we should raeet with none. In a scherae
contrived by infinite wisdom, there raust be a
great deal that such beings as we are cannot
explain. An infant is not so incapable of
judging of the policy of a kingdora, or a
huraan hand of grasping the globe, as crea
tures of our standing and in our situation are of
comprehending the ways of Providence. The
very perfection of wisdom and goodness in
them cannot but make thera appear to us
irregular in numberless instances. Did we
indeed see the whole plan of nature, or were
we acquainted with all the ends, connections,
and dependences of the different parts of the
Divine providence and governraent, we raight
then be able to understand thera. But as we
see next to nothing of thera, it is one ofthe
most intolerable follies to set ourselves up as
judges of them, or to take upon us to censure
and condemn them.

179
3dly. As our ignorance thus furnishes with
an answer to the objections against Provi
dence, it has further a particular tendency to
teach us the calmest acquiescence in the dis
posals of Providence, and the profoundest
subjection to it. We know not how the
world ought to be governed. It is enough to
know that it is well governed. Let us rest in
this, — give up our affairs to the direction of
higher wisdom, and refer ourselves entirely to
the care of that great and good Being who
presides over all events, and whose ways are
past finding put. No teraper can becorae us
more than this. No teraper can be raore
corafortable to ourselves, or raore pleasing to
God. A child in a state of ignorance and
weakness ought to trust iraplicitly to the
wisdora of his parents, and never to dispute
the propriety of any of their dealings. This is
what we think a duty to earthly parents ; but
it is infinitely raore our duty to the all-wise
Parent and Ruler of the world.
There is an unsearchableness in God's ways,
and we ought not to expect to find thera
always free frora darkness. The unsearch
ableness in thera we raay be sure is an un
searchableness of rectitude and love. Let us
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180
therefore possess our souls at all times in
patience, and welcorae whatever comes to us
from the counsels of Providence, adoring
humbly where we cannot comprehend, — be
lieving firmly where we do not see, and re
signing joyfully where we are called upon to
undergo any sufferings.
4thly. What I have said of our ignorance,
should lead us to be contented with any real
evidence which we can get on every subject.
It will itself shew wretched ignorance to in
dulge discontent, because we often find our
selves puzzled, or to expect that all points
should be quite clear to us. It is true that
we ought to push our enquiries as far as we
can, and to endeavour to improve our know
ledge to the utraost ; but at the sarae tirae
we should reraeraber our own darkness, and
learn not to wonder at any difficulties we
raeet with in our enquiries ; always raaintain
ing modesty, diffidence, and submission to
Providence, from a deep sense of the imbe
cility of our understandings, and the shortness
of our views. Happy are those who in this
manner improve their ignorance. Certain it
is, that we have no right to more light than
we have, or are capable of attaining by the

181
faithful use of our faculties. All the light is
granted us that is necessary to enable Us to
answer the ends of our beings, and raore we
cannot claira without tacitly asserting that we
have a right to be omniscient.
Though we know so little of physical causes,
the scheme of the creation, and the counsels
of Providence, yet we know enough to di
rect our practice, and to assure us that it is
our duty and wisdom, in all circumstances,
and at any expence, to be strictly virtuous.
No one can have reason to coraplain of his
wanting light, because there is no one frora
whora more is expected than is suitable to
the light which he enjoys. But Christians
above all others would be inexcusable in
making such a complaint, because to thera
God has granted supernatural instruction.
They are blessed with the gospel of Jesus
Christ, where he that runs raay read and
understand all that is necessary to his salva
tion and eternal happiness. Let us, then,
instead of raurrauring against the Deity for
not granting us raore knowledge, bless him
for what we have, and endeavour to make the
most of it. Seeing our darkness isso great,
and our faculties so narrow, let us apply our
N 3

182
studies chiefly to such moral and religious
topics as lie raore level to our capacities, and
in which our interest is concerned. He that
could discover one new rule for raending the
heart, or furnish with one new help towards
governing passion and practising virtue, would
do raankind greater service than could be
done by any discoveries or iraproveraents of
any other kind.
Lastly. What has been said of our igno
rance, should lead our hopes and wishes to
that future world, where full day will break in
upon our souls, and the clouds which now
cover the dispensations of Providence will
vanish ; where we shall be always growing in
knowledge and bliss, and enjoy better oppor
tunities for observing the ways and works of
the Deity, and enriching our minds with
heavenly truth and wisdom.
We are now novices and infants. When
we have passed this imperfect state, and got
out of the night of this world; when we
have had longer experience, and seen the pro
cess of the Divine dispensation, we shall
know more than we now do, and be better
able to discern the perfect order and beauty

183
of nature. To continue always here would
be to continue always in darkness and igno^
rance. We now know in part, but when that
which is perfect is come, that which is in part
shall be done away. We now think and speak
and understand as children ; but we shall soon
become men, and put away childish things.
We now see through a glass darkly, but we
shall soon see face to face, and know even as we
are known. Oh glorious time, when our
faculties shall iraprove and ripen. When all
our present mistakes shall be rectified, and all
our doubts resolved ! When Christ and
angels shall assist our enquiries, and the
eternal fountain of truth be laid open to our
view ! Would you, brethren, be thus happy?
Would you some tirae or other exchange
darkness for light, and error for knowledge ?
Then apply your time to the cultivation of
your hearts, and the practice of piety. Be
virtuous now, and you shall be knowing
hereafter. All our present accomplishraents
of wit and learning will in a little time be
extinguished. All our present advances in
knowledge will (as I observed at the begin
ning of this discourse) be soon superseded by
higher knowledge. But our improvements
in goodness" will always reraain with us, and
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184
lay the foundation of a felicity that will never
come to an end. These considerations should
lead us to raind nothing in comparison with
saving our souls, and preparing them for the
inheritance of the saints in light.

185

SERMON X.

ON HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.

Heb. xi. 16.
But now they desire a better, that is an heavenly
country.
^ I ^HESE words are introduced bythe author
-*- of this epistle, after an account which he
has given of Abel, Enoch, Noah, and Abra
ham, who, after a course of virtue and piety,
had died in faith, not having received the
promises ; but being persuaded of them, and
trusting in them, had shewn that they con
sidered themselves as strangers and pilgriras
on the earth, and looked for a happier and
better, that is a heavenly country. The cha
racters here given of these good raen should
be applicable to us aU, and my present design

186
is to take occasion from it to deliver an ex
hortation to you on the subject of heavenly-
raindedness or (as it is expressed in ray text)
the duty of directing our desires and views to
a better, that is, an heavenly country ; or (as
St. Paul expresses it in Col. iii. 1st and 2d,
Cor. iv. 18.) the duty of " setting our affec
tions on things above rather than on things
on the earth, and looking not at those things
which are seen, but at those which are not
seen, the things which are seen being terapo
ral, but the things which are not seen being
eternal." In doing this, I shall first desire you to con
sider the nature and the raagnitude of that
bliss which is reserved for good men in that
better country towards which they are tend
ing. Some notion of it we raay derive fi-ora
considering the following particulars concern
ing it. It is to consist in seeing and knowing
God, in being raade better acquainted with his
ways and works and the wonders of the cre
ation, — in the highest intellectual and raoral
iraproveraents,-— in better opportunities of be
ing extensively useful, — in a fellowship with
the spirits of just men made perfect, and an in
nuraerable corapany of angels, — in living and

187
reigning with Christ, and sharing in that glory
to which he is raised as our Redeeraer. But
what most deserves our attention with respect
to this happiness is, that it will be eternal in
its duration. This makes the value of it pro
perly infinite. St. Paul refers to this when,
in the passage I have just quoted, he gives as
the reason of our obligation to look at the
things which are unseen, that they are eter
nal. The righteous (our Lord has told us)
are to go into life eternal. " We are begotten
again by the resurrection of Christ frora the
dead to the lively hope of an inheritance in
corruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not
away, reserved in heaven for us." We are to
outlive the sun and raoon and stars. Through
boundless ages we are to be improving and
rising under the eye and care of the Almighty.
I raust add that we have reason to depend on
this happiness as certain to be enjoyed. God,
who cannot lie, has proraised it to us, and his
Son carae into the world to acquire the power
of recovering us frora death and of introducing
us to it. " This is the proraise (St. John says)
that He has proraised even eternal life, and
that life is in His Son." John v. 11. The
faculties and powers of our iraraortal souls
are such as make us capable of it, and there

188
are many arguraents frora reason that lead us
to the expectation of it. But the Christian
revelation has put it out of dPubt. Fpr there
we are assured that " when Pur earthly house
of this tabernacle is dissolved, we shall have a
building of God, a house not raade with hands,
eternal in the heavens." This happiness is
further a happiness that is very near us. A
few raore steps in our journey through this
world will bring us to it. " For what is our
life? It is even a vapour that appeareth for
a little while and then vanisheth away." Our
days fly. Life wastes, and as soon as it is
over the virtuous will enter upon a new and
endless life. Think now what a happiness
this is. Need I ask you whether it does not
invite or demand your warmest ambition and
wishes? In order to render ourselves more
sensible of this, let us compare with it the
happiness we enjoy in this world, and the
circumstances of iraperfection that attend the
present state. It is an infant and probationary
state. We are only beginning to exist. It is
the dawning of day or a feeble childhood which
introduces us into the vast creation, and the
design of which is to prepare us, by proper
exercises and instruction, for future dignity.
It foUows from hence that it is a state of ig-

189
norance. We can see little in it of God, or
truth, or nature, or providence. The light of
reason being but just kindled in us, clouds
and darkness surround us, and almost every
object is a mystery to us. Our faculties be
ing not yet fully opened, and our situation
not adraitting of our looking far into the
creation, we understand nothing fully. Dif
ficulties obstruct us in our enquiries, and dis
tressing doubts often perplex us.
The present state is also a state in which
we are subject to much trouble; and dangers
surround us in it, against which we are obliged
to be perpetually on our guard. There is
littlp in it that is perfectly sound or pure.
Calaraity in nuraberiess shapes is continually
threatening us, and soraetiraes it breaks upon
us and involves us in raisery and wretchedr
ness. Our warraest hopes are frequently dis
appointed. Sorrow raeets us where we ex
pected nothing but pleasure, and our dearest
enjoyments and comforts are mingled with
pain and anxiety. Could we heap upon our
selves all that we can wish for of the pomps
and honours of this life, we should still find
ourselves dissatisfied. Our souls would starve
in the ' midst of this kind of plenty. Many

190
evils would still press upon us, and we raight
be forced to exclaira with Soloraon " that all
was vanity and vexation of spirit."
But what is worst of all is, that the present
world is a wicked world. It exhibits to us a
sad scene of guilt and degeneracy. Crimes of
the most detestable kind are continually prac
tised in it. Sorae we see stupefied by volup
tuousness, some stained with blood, and some
glorying in treasures obtained by fraud and
plunder. And even those virtuous men who
deplore the wickedness of the world, and are
rising out of its degeneracy to a better state,
how do they groan under the remains of sin
in theraselves ? What a strict and constant
discipline are they obliged to exercise over
their minds, in order to preserve thera in
tolerable order and peace? How do eager
passions often raislead thera, and vanquish
ed enemies renew their attacks? How apt are
reason and conscience to rerait their vigilance?
To what stumbles are they liable in the steep
ascent of virtue? What fickleness in their
resolutions and coldness in the best duties do
they complain of, and how hard do they
find it to raaintain an uniforra and consistent
course of goodness? I will add here, that
10

191
this life is of short duration. Were our hap
piness in it ever so great, the tirae for enjoy
ing it is short. The stroke of death will soon
raake an end of it. All our honours wUl
perish, and the clods of the valley will cover
us. " The fashion of this world passeth away,
and every thing in it is fleeting and tran
sitory." Such is the present state. What then
is it, when viewed in competition with that
which I have before described? Let us dweU
a little longer here, and go over again some
ofthe particulars that forra the contrast that
here presents itself to us. We are in this
world ignorant. In that world we shall
know as we are known. The secrets of na
ture, and the councils of eternal wisdora will
be laid rnore open to our exaraination, and
the darkness in which we are now involved
will be dissipated. In this world we are often
mournful and miserable. In that world all
tears will be wiped away frora our eyes. Rest
will succeed labour. Security wUl succeed
danger, and joy take place of sighing and
tears. In this world our brightest hopes are
damped by fears of disappointraent, our plea
sures raingled with many pains, our enjoy
ments precarious, and the tyrant death is
continually holding his dart over us, and

.192
threatening to tear from us our sweetest com
forts. But in that world there will be no
more death. Our pleasures will be solid and
eternal. Our hopes will be crowned with pos
session, and our enjoyments adequate to our
iraproved powers and faculties. Here vanity
(according to the decision of the wise raan)
is written upon every thing, and pride, and
discord, and lawless power are continually
spreading desolation around us. But into
that state malevolence, and vice, and tyranny
shall find no admission. Nothing that de
fileth shall enter, and all will be purity, and
peace, and righteousness, and love. Here
our virtue is very iraperfect, but there all
the causes that obstruct our progress in it
will cease to operate. Passion will not rise
in rebellion against reason. Foolish preju
dices will no more deceive us. That mor
tality which now weighs down our aspiring
minds will be swallowed up of life, and bet
ter opportunities will be given us of iraprove
raent. In short, we are here children under
discipline, there we shall becorae raen, and
put away childish things. Our present facul
ties will gain fuller scope for exertion, and
probably senses now latent will unfold them
selves. Our state of probation will be over.

193
Our sphere of action will be enlarged. The
prisons of clay that now confine our views
will be exchanged for mansions of honour,
and unclouded endless day open upon us.
Is it, fellow-christians, possible for us to
hesitate in determining to which of these
states we shall principally look? Does not
a child naturally look to manhood, and should
it not be his chief study to prepare for it?
Can we prefer darkness to light, tumult to
quietness, and slavery to liberty? Can we
avoid considering this world to be nothing,
and the next to be all that deserves our
anxiety ?
I am led from hence to observe to you,
Sdly, That an earthly-minded temper is low
and sordid, but that the contrary teraper con
fers the highest dignity and honor. Not to
aira at the perfection we are raade for, — •
to suffer ourselves to creep on the earth,
though capable of aspiring to heaven, — ¦ what
can be raore base? How unworthy is it of be-
ings intended to be happy in the Deity to
forget the end of their creation, and with
the boundless ages of eternity before thera, to
chuse to contract their wishes to a moihent !
Ohj Christians, let us elevate our minds*
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194
above this world, and not think of any thing
so ignominious as satisfying them with tem
poral good! Heaven is your home, there let
your affections be. Heaven is your country,
there let your desires tend. Be not so cruel
to yourselves as to suffer any temptation to
turn off your attention from your best and
highest good. Be not so ungrateful to God,
as, notwithstanding his goodness in designing
you for a glorious imraortality, to declare by
your actions that you care not for it.
But in proportion as worldly-mindedness
shews ingratitude and raeanness, heavenly-
raindedness is excellent and noble. Great is
the dignity which such a teraper bestows on
a character, and truly excellent is the per
son who always lives as one conscious that
he has citizenship above, who is ever becora
ing raore free frora the defileraents of sin and
the iraperfections of this mortal state. Rising
from the vanity of tirae to the riches of eter
nity, and thus shewing in hiraself a noble
ardor to grow raore like to God and more
naturalized to heaven.
4thly, I would point out to you the advan-
-tages, with respect to our present interest,
5

195
which will attend such a temper as I am re
commending. The seducements of the world
will have no effect on one who (like St. Paul)
is crucified to the world, and whose mind is
intent on infinitely nobler enjoyments than
any it can offer. The worst that can happen
to us here, will appear trifling to one who
considers with a lively faith that our present
afflictions, which are for a moraent, work for
us a far raore exceeding and eternal weight of
glory. Heavenly-raindedness, therefore, will
give the best support under afflictions. It
will administer the best consolation in a time
of grief and distress. It will mitigate adver
sity, and render prosperity more joyous, by
disposing our rainds to coraplacency and for
bearance; and thus increasing the relish for
every enjoyment, and laying us more open to
all agreeable sensations. Hope is in general
a raost enlivening principle, and the hope of
a better country beyond the grave, where we
shall find that all ends well under the divine
government, is the most enlivening and ani
mating principle that can possess the human
breast. Amidst the coraraotions and storms
of this world, it places us in the situation of
a person elevated to the upper regions of the
air, who there sees the clouds spread at his
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196
feet, and hears the thunder roar below hira.
There are certainly none who enjoy this life
raore than those who look to another life.
The reason why Christians are coramonly so
languid and comfortless as they are, is this
worldly-mindedness. Did they carry their
views more to their own dignity as iraraortal
beings, they would be raore joyful and hapjpy.
Teraptation would be disarraed. Their vir
tues would shine with a brighter lustre. They
would be raore stiraulated to noble exertion,
and be more ready to devote theraselves to
the service of their fellow-creatures, and to
raake a sacrifice of all their worldly interest
in the cause of truth and virtue.
In the next place, it should be considered
that heavenly-raindedness will be one of the
best proofs of our fitness for heaven, and title
to it. If you would know where your trea
sure is, you must enquire where your hearts
are ; for (as our Saviour has told us) " where
your treasure is, there will your hearts be."
One of the main points in which the difference
between good and bad raen consists, is the
different degree of their regard to this world
and another. Good raen are properly called
the children of light, because they love light

197
and look to the future world of light. Bad
men, on the contrary, are called the children
of the world, because they rest in the world
as their only portion. If you are immersed
in the cares of this life, and habitually inat
tentive to what lies beyond it, you belong to
this last class of men; and if you profess
religion, it raust be raore the shadow than the
substance; it must be a religion consisting in
outward forms and ritual services, and not
that reasonable service which it ought to be ;
for what makes it so, is its being a means to
an end; and its end is to iraprove us in vir
tue, and to form us to a meetness for glory
that is to be its reward.
Lai^tly, let rae set before you the particular
obligations we are under, as Christ's disciples,
to cultivate heavenly-raindedness. The de
sign, of the gospel is to draw off our affections
from things sensible and temporal. It teaches
us that we are strangers and pilgrims, and
therefore coraraands us to abstain frora fleshly
lusts. Its language is, " Love not the world,
neither-the things that are in the world. — If
any man love the world, the love ofthe Father
is not in him.: — Labour not for the meat that
perisheth, but for that whieh endureth to ever-
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198
lasting life. — Lay not up for yourselves trea
sures where moth and rust do corrupt, and
where thieves break through and steal, but lay
up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where
neither moth nor rust do corrupt, and where
thieves cannot break through and steal. — Ify^
be risen with Christ, seek those things which are
above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of
God. — Set your affections on things above, and
not on things on the earth." Such are the
exhortations of the New Testament.
We call ourselves Christ's disciples. Let
us act as such, by directing our views to him
as the author and finisher of our faith, and
fixing our hearts where he is; knowing that
our life is hid with him in God, and that
when he shall appear, we shall also appear with
him in glory. He has by his resurrection
froni death and ascension to heaven shewn to
our senses the path of life, and begotten us
again to a lively hope of an inheritance unde
filed and which fadeth not away, reserved in
heaven for us. How sharaeful will it be for
us, if, after such discoveries and after such
aids, we continue wedded to this worid, and
stake ourselves down to low and ignoble ob
jects ! He calls us out of this world. Let us

199
attend to his call, that we may enjoy that peace
which the world cannot give. He mentions
it as the character of his disciples, " that they
are not of the world." Let us prove by our
exaraple the truth of this declaration. There
is nothing that can raake us think raore
highly of the Christian religion, than that ele
vation or subliraity of spirit which it is fitted
to give. Its heavenly tendency proclairas
its heavenly extraction, and we dishonor it
miserably when we confine our views to tem
poral objects. It was excusable in heathens
to do this, for they did not know of that
grace which St. Paul tells us " was given to
mankind in Christ's gospel before the world
began ; but which was not manifested till the
appearing of our Saviour Christ, who has
abolished death and brought life and imraor
tality to light." 2 Tim. i. 10. But even in
this respect, some of thera have excelled many
Christians. There were among them sages
who, from a conviction of the immortality of
the soul, discovered a superiority to low-
minded cares and bodily pleasures, and taught
the necessity of living in simplicity and purity,
in order to get to the end of life upright and
pure, and fit for some better state.
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200
It has been objected to the duty I am re
commending, that it has a tendency to de
preciate virtue by malf ing it selfish and mer-
cenar3^ But this objection deserves little
notice. A prudent regard to our own in
terest is a duty; and a regard in our actions
to oUr final interest is one of the most im
portant duties ; and the more our actions are
gpverned by it, the more worthy we shall be.
It should be considered particularly on this
subject, that the future reward of virtue is
to be virtue, — the highest degree of moral
and inteUectual improvement, ; and a nearer
resemblance to the Deity. It is absurd to
call any conduct d^erived from the expect-
a,tion of such a reward mercenary. The gos
pel ^-pp resents heaven to us as a state wherein
dwells righteousness, and into, which nothing
that defileth, or that loveth or maketh a lie,
can enter. Vicious men can have no relish for
such a state ; and as far as any man is in
fluenced by the hope of it, he is influenced by
a virtuous raotive. Iri a word, since in all
cases a reasonable pursuit of our own happi
ness is coraraendable, it raust be evident that
the pursuit of such happiness as Christianity
proraises in another life, must be also cora
raendable ; and that in truth, so far frora de-

201
predating virtue, it implies virtue, and must
improve and exalt it. But to come to a con
clusion. Let me once more urge, you to this
duty. How happy should we. reckon our
selves that God will soon unbind our souls,
and deliver us into the glorious order of his
children. How should we rejpice that these
garments pf flesh are to be put off, and that
we are not always to dwell in the raidst of
darkness, fpUy, and sin ! Reraeraber, that it is
the relation bf this life to another thiat renders
it most valuable ; and in this view ofit, (that
is, when considered as a seed-tirae for a future
harvest,) it is indeed infinitely valuable ; and
the right stateof mind with respect to- it is,
(while we ai'e thankful to God for it even as
a present gift,) yet to value it principally as
a preparatory gift, and therefore to be willing
to quit it whenever called upon, — tojudge
of all that happens to us in it by its in
fluence on, or fitness for the life beyond it,
and to chuse that alone as our first good and
best portion. How honourable and amiable
would such a temper raake us ! But how
unhappy is the man who, by devoting his
life to low pursuits and criminal pleasures,
leaves himself nothing to expect beyond it,
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202
of his existence, — the loss of those thoughts
that wander through eternity, — to perish,
swallowed up, and lost in the worab of un
created night. Shocking prospect indeed ! —
May heaven defend us against it, and lead us
to true wisdora and virtue, that we may go
frora hence endowed with that righteousness
of character which is the necessary qualifi
cation for bliss hereafter; and in the mean
time partake of that peace of God which
passeth all understanding, and of that joy and
exultation which cannot but possess the
hearts of those who believe themselves on
the borders of a happy eternity ; and see the
period approaching when they shall be absent
from the body, and present with the Lord, —
when they shall take leave of sin and sorrow, —
have all their doubts resolved, — all their
pains removed, — and all their reasonable
wishes gratified. What a scene of tumult
and delusion is this world ! What a wea
riness is it, to see so many about us hunting
shadows as realities, — mistaking nonsense for
sacred truth ; sorae weeping over dead re
latives, and others over living ones ; sorae
hugging erapty farae as a solid good, and
others filthy lucre ; sorae wallowing in vo
luptuousness ; sorae, after clirabing to power

203
by intrigue, tumbling down again to disgrace.
Here a despot making war on liberty, —
there a band of patriots resisting him, and
perhaps crushed in the contest. Is it vi
sionary to expect a better world ? Has the
present state no reference to any thing be
yond it ? Are we all consigned to oblivion
and destruction at death? Are we then to
sink never again to rise ? This is what sorae
tell us. Such infidelity is the greatest mis
fortune ; and those who make a boast of it,
and labour to make converts to it, deserve our
scorn as men who are traitors to our species,
and enemies to our best hopes-andr^^mforts.
Leaving these raen to think as raeanly as
they please of theraselves, and as beings ofa
day, to eat and drink, and creep and grovel ;
let us, reraerabering our high destination,
labour to be stedfast and iraraoveable, always
abounding in every good work, forasrauch as
we know that our labour cannot be in vain.
Believing that we are iraraortal beings, let
us bestow such a constant attention on the
iraproveraent of our characters, as that (should
we be at any time asked " what are you
living for") we may be able to answer
that "we are living for eternity," — that "we
are preparing for a participation in the joys

204
of angels, and qualifying ourselves, by acting
the part of good citizens in this world, for
enjoying posts of honour and dignity under a
future perfect government in the heavens.
May God quicken us in this glorious work.
May he aid us in our endeavours to get this
perishing world under our feet. May he give
us the treasure of a mind easy within itself,
and ripe for iraraortality, and we need not
care what else we raay want. The raen of
this world are scrambling for placeSj honours,
and titles. Let us behold them with pity,
and raise our views and wishes to a place
hereafter, in the everlasting kingdom of our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

205

SERMON XL

ON SPIRITUAL OR INAVARD LIBERTY.

2 Peter, ii. 19.

While they promise them liberty, they themselves
are the servants of corruption ; for of whom
a man is overcome, ofthe same is he brought
in bondage.
IN the chapter frora which these words are
taken, the apostle Peter warns the Chris
tians to whom this epistle was written, against
a set of men who then did great mischief in
the Christian church. In the account he
gives of thera, they are represented as false
teachers and apostates, who occasioned dan
gerous factions, and by reason of whom the
way of truth was evil spoken of "They
walked," he says, " after the flesh, in lust and

206
uncleanness ; had eyes full of adultery, be
guiled unstable souls, denied the Lord that
bought thera, raade raerchandize through
covetousness of those that followed thera ;
and under a pretence of zeal for liberty,
despised governraent, and spoke evil of dig
nities." In the words of ray text he observes, that
the promises they made to their followers of
liberty, were inconsistent and delusive ; be
cause they theraselves were slaves, — slaves
of the worst kind, slaves of vice and corrup
tion ; and to prove his assertion, that the
tdcious are slaves, he adds the general ob
servation, that by whatever a man is overcome,
hy that he is enslaved ; " while they proraise
thera liberty, they theraselves are the servants
(or as the original word for servants raight
have been translated) they themselves are the
slaves of corruption ; for of whatever a man
is overcorae, of the same is he brought in
bondage." My text therefore plainly implies, that
vicious men are slaves ; that it is an absur
dity in thera to pretend to be advocates for
liberty ; and that consequently the practice of

207
virtue is necessary to give men true liberty.
The wicked raen that St. Peter had in view
opposed the restraints of law and authority, —
they vilified civil governors, — renounced the
obligations of righteousness, and practised
the worst irapurities and iraraoralities ; and by
doing this, they boasted that they stood up
for liberty ; not considering their own slavery,
and not distinguishing between licentiousness
and liberty. There have been in all ages
many persons of this stamp. We may find
them now in this kingdom. There are among
ourselves raany who appear as charapions for
liberty, and are continually haranguing in its
favour ; but who at the same tirae seera to
be totally ignorant of the true nature of
liberty. They are loose in their characters,
and have not principle enough to raake them
decent in their vices. They follow their lusts
and passions. They deny theraselves no un
lawful pleasures, and seera never to have at
tended to this important truth, " that the vir
tuous man is the free man, and that he only
can possess a just and consistent zeal for
freedom ;" in short (to repeat the words of
my text) they promise us liberty while they
themselves are the slaves of sin; for of whatever
a man is overcome, by that he is enslaved^

208
whether it be by a tyrant in the state, or by a
crirainal passion in the. character. Being,
therefore, slavfes, voluntary and wicked slaves,
they cannot be enemies o slavery.
You must be sensible, that these observa
tions imply, that there is a raoral slavery
which ought to be the principal object of our
detestation, and consequently a moral liberty
which ought to be the principal object of our
attachment. My present business will be to
explain this, and to shew its iraportance and
excellence. In order rightly to understand it, you must
consider what that is which is most properly
a marts self. The slightest reflection will
shew you, that it is, without doubt, not his
passions, but his reason or his judgment, pre
scribing what is right, and prohibiting what is
wrong. The conscience of a man is the man ;
the reflecting principle is our supreme prin
ciple. It is what gives our distinction as in
telligent creatures ; and whenever we act
contrary to it, we violate our natures, and are
at variance with ourselves. They are biasses
or deterrainations given us by the author of
our beings which we raight have wanted, and

209
which are. intended to be subordinate to
reason. Now liberty being an exeraption
frora all such force as takes away frora us the
capacity of acting as we think best, it is plain
that whenever any passion becoraes pre
dominant within us, or causes us to contra
dict our sentiraents of rectitude, we lose our
liberty, and fall into a state of slavery. When
any oneof our instinctive desires assumes the
direction ofour conduct in opposition to our
reason, then reason is overpowered and en
slaved, and when reason is overpowered and
enslaved, we are overpowered and enslaved.
On the other hand, when our reason main
tains its rights, and possesses its proper seat
of sovereignty within us ; when it controls
our desires and directs our actions so as never
to yield to the force of passion, then are We
masters of ourselves, and free in the truest
possible sense. A person governed by his
appetites is raost properly a slave. To will
(as St. Paul speaks) is present with him, but
hoxv to perform that which is good he knows not.
What he would, that he does not. But what he
hates, that he does. He delights in the law of
God after the inward man ; but he has another
law in his members warring against the law of

210
his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the
law of sin. Rora. vii. 22 and 23.
There is but one just authority in the
mind, and that is the authority of conscience.
Whatever conquers this, puts us into a state of
oppression. Every principle, except reason,
that can get an ascendancy within us is an
usurper, and all submission to it is a base
subraission to an usurpation. What I am
now saying, shews us how wrong wicked raen
are in sorae of the notions they are disposed
to entertain. They are apt to think thera
selves the only persons who possess liberty,
and to consider the virtuous as the only per
sons who are obliged to subrait to confine
raent and self-denial. But it plainly appears
that they are totally and essentially raistaken.
It is no raore true liberty to follow every
vagrant inclination that happens to prevail
within us, than it would be true liberty to
make ourselves the dupes of every ignorant
and insolent creature, who in our civil affairs
would claira a power to direct us. To be
carried away blindly by any thing contrary to
our own approbation, is to be reduced to cap
tivity and servitude. Every raan is a law to
hiraself As far as he has the ability of cora-

211
plying with this law, he has self-dominion
and is free. But as far as there are any
internal principles which overpower its in
fluence, so far he is in a violent and unnatural
condition. He reproaches and conderans
hiraself, and is conscious of giving up his
dignity and honour. I am sensible that doing
whatever our passions incline us to do, with
out regarding reason, has the appearance of
being the same with never denying ourselves,
and being free from all restraint. So the
generality- of men often talk and think. But
in truth, following passion wherever it carries
us, is being under the worst sort of restraint,
and practising the worst self-denial. It is
the same with being restrained from grati
fying our highest powers and doing what we
ought to do. A restraint laid upon con
science has certainly rauch raore in it of
what should be deeraed restraint to a rea
sonable being, than any restraint laid upon
passion. The latter can scarcely with any
propriety be deemed restraint at all. It is
only the power of following our judgraents,
and doing what our hearts approve and re
quire. When this power is lost, then and
then only are we most truly confined and
restrained. The dorainion of passion (as far
p 2

212
as it takes place within us) is a kind. of brute
force unsettling our resolutions, and shackling
our wills. It is licentiousness in the raind
which produces a like restraint upon liberty
and the sarae kind of evils, with licentious
ness in the state.
It has been often observed, that licentious
ness in a state is attended with an infringe
raent of liberty, and sorae of the greatest evils
of slavery. In such a state the rights of
every member are liable to perpetual inva-
' sion. Oppression and violence prevail, and a
riotous mob governs instead of a wise and a
good legislature. What is sirailar to this
may be said with great propriety of that
licentiousness which takes place in the raind
when the passions become turaultuous and
ungovernable. These observations prove that
the idea of confinement or restraint belongs
raost properly to vice only. Most certainly
that is the worst force we can be under, which
prevents us frora doing what our duty and
interest require. The like is true of self-
denial. It is not the raan who denies his
passions in obedience to his judgraent who
most properly practises self denial, but the
man who does the contrary, — the man who

213
denies his judgraent in obedience to his pas
sions. This man denies what alone is truly
himself . He denies his reason. He denies
his best and highest powers ; and subjects
hiraself necessarily to self-reproach and re
morse. To deny passion at the call of recti
tude is to gratify ourselves in the noblest
raanner ; but to deny conscience at the call
of passion, is to wound ourselves fatally.
It may appear to some, that the account
now given of moral liberty iraplies an incon
sistency between it and natural liberty ; but
there cannot be a raore wrong apprehension.
On the contrary, the forraer iraplies the
latter, and cannot exist without it ; for frora
this account it follows, that the raost perfect
moral liberty takes place where there is the
strongest attachment to rectitude, and the
least capacity of deviating from it ; and where
therefore there is the least degree of that in
difference in which sorae have said that
natural liberty consists.
But this objection is founded on a mistake
concerning the true notion of natural liberty.
It by no means signifies an indifference of will
with respect to the way in which we shall act ;
p 3

214
but merely the power of self-determination, and
it is alike coraraon to all agents as such, and
incapable of any variety of degrees. The
greatest certainty of acting in one way in
consequence of the influence of raotives can
never clash with it. If a being is the effi
cient of his own actions, or begins raotion in
hiraself, he is naturaUy free, whatever may
be true of his character and dispositions.
A person in his senses will not wantonly
throw himself into a fire and destroy hiraself
This is absolutely certain ; but it would be
absurd to suppose that in this instance he has
not natural liberty. We should say of a raan
on the top of a precipice, that he cannot jump
down ; and we should also say, if he were at
the bottom of the precipice, that he cannot
leap up. But every one must see that one of
these expressions is rauch raore proper than
the other, and that the two cannots have
totally different senses. The one is properly
no raore than a will not, the other is literally
a cannot on account of the want of power, or
a natural incapacity. The one is moral neces
sity, consistent with complete physical liberty,
and the other is a natural necessity which
utterly destroys all agency and liberty. But

215
this is a speculation that may be too abstruse
for this discourse, and into which therefore
I shall not further enter.
What I mean chiefly to observe is, that a
submission to reason is so far from being ca
pable of being considered in any way incon
sistent with liberty, that on the contrary it
supposes natural liberty ; and is the very idea
of that moral liberty which is ray present sub
ject. The raore we are in subjection to reason,
the raore power we have to do as we like.
The dictates of reason are the dictates of our
own hearts ; and obeying thera is following
the dictates of our hearts, and therefore the
very reverse of any thing that can be deemed
force or slavery. The absolute government
of reason would be an absolute dominion
over our resolutions and actions, and there
fore would be absolute and perfect liberty;
the absolute governraent of passion on the
other hand would be an absolute incapa
city of acting as we approve, and there
fore would be an absolute raoral irapo
tence, or complete slavery. To be governed
by our consciences is to be governed by
our own choice. To be governed by pas
sion, is to have a force put upon us in
p 4

216
opposition to our own choice ; for whoever
does wrong in compliance with passion, is
dragged in a manner to what he does. He
loaths it at the time he does it. He feels
himself not master of his conduct, and groans
under a sense of his raiserable weakness.
The observations I have now made shew
plainly that there is a considerable analogy
between civil and moral liberty ; and it may
not be araiss to proceed to what I further
intended in this discourse, to point out this
analogy to you.
In a kingdora enjoying civil liberty every
meraber is in possession of his just rights, and
keeps his proper place. He judges and acts
for himself, without being liable to any dis
turbances or encroachments from arbitrary
power. His person and his property are
secure against lawless insult and oppression.
He submits to no impositions or burthens but
such as he lays upon himself He is subject
to no laws but such as he has given his con
sent to. No rapacity or violence has the
power of controling him in his pursuits or of
unjustly breaking in upon his acquisitions and
enjoyments. Such is a state of civil liberty,
and such also exactly is that moral liberty

217
on which I am discoursing. He who is blest
with it, possesses the just rights and privileges
of a reasonable creature. Every power within
him keeps its proper place, and perforras its
proper functions without being allowed to
assurae raore than belongs to it, or to en
croach on any of his other powers. He judges
for himself, and acts agreeably to his judg
ment, without being subject to the control of
any lawless desires. He has no internal ty
rants and oppressors which break in upon his
quiet, and reduce him into captivity. His
soul is guarded against the rude attacks
and insolencies of every enemy that would
deprive him of his self-governraent and self-
dominion. The law to which he is subject
is no other than the law of his own mind —
a law to which he gives his willing and
hearty consent. He submits to no burthen,
but such as he thinks fit to take upon himself.
He is governed by the authority of reason,
and not by the violence and arbitrariness of
passion. Instead of going where humour and
inclination direct, and doing as they require,
he keeps in the path he approves, and does
as his own heart directs, never yielding to
any kind of usurpation, or suffering himself to
be carried by any thing contrary to the con
victions of his conscience. This is the true

218
and perfect notion of liberty, and such is the
liberty which is enjoyed by every virtuous
man, and to which we all ought to aspire.
What remains for rae to do in this dis
course, is to raention a few reasons in order
to recoraraend this liberty to you. The bare
description of it is indeed enough to make
every one to desire it earnestly. From the
account I have given of it, you must see that
it is replete with blessings and advantages.
Let me, however, desire you, 1st, To con
sider particularly what an honour there is in
liberty, and what a baseness in sin. That
liberty which I have explained implies in it
health and order of mind. All the faculties
of the man who possesses it are in their right
and sound state. The iraraortal and divine
part raaintains its just supreraacy, and the in
ferior principles are guided by it. A due
balance is. established araong the affections —
every desire raoves in its proper place, and
all the internal springs of action contribute
their proper share towards guarding, preserv
ing, and perfecting the soul. It follows frora
hence, that to be free in the sense I have ex
plained, is to possess the noblest vigour and

219
independence of mind, A free soul is firm,
active, and intrepid. It is independent of
the world, and superior to the assaults of every
enemy. It pursues an uniforra course of up
right conduct, unraoved by pleasure and un
daunted by] fear. Nothing can turn it aside
frora its duty : nothing baffle its resolution, or
bring it into any kind of bondage : no silly
prejudices warp it in the search of truth, nor
can any teraptations prevent its faithful ad
herence to truth. It is raanifest that there
is nothing so great and respectable as such a
mind. " He who ruleth his own spirit (as
Solomon tells us) is better than he who taketh
a city." One passion conquered gives a no
bler proof of true raagnaniraity than could be
given by the conquest of the world. To be
exerapted in our endeavours to find out truth
frora the influence of authority, education, and
interest — to enquire freely and to abide
steadily by what we think to be right — to be
able to restrain dr suspend as we please the
operations of our passions, and to prescribe
laws and liraits to our warraest appetites —
to stand firra and erect araidst trials and dan
gers — and in all circurastances to have our
own deliberate judgraent our only rule of con
duct — this is our best and raost honourable

220
state — this is the highest dignity and perfec
tion to which any being can attain.
But in proportion as this state is glorious
and honourable, the contrary state is mean
and despicable. To lose inward liberty is to
lose all that can procure esteera, and to be
corae poor, abject, and impotent. If we had
a proper sense of our distinctions and rights
as men, we could never bear to fall into such
a state. To be governed by raean prejudices
— to be the rainion of appetite — to be the
sport ofa brutal desire — not to be masters- of
our own purposes, but to behold our most
valuable privileges at the will of a passion —
this is the worst degradation and infamy into
which we can sink. We coraraonly think with
horror and detestation of civil slavery, but
this raoral slavery is infinitely a raore pro
per object of our horror and detestation. It
is the ruin of all that is raanly and worthy in
the raind.
But 2dly, Let me desire you to consider
what advantages and blessings liberty of mind
will bring with it. A free mind is no less
happy than it is great and honourable, and an
enslaved mind is no less wretched than it -is

221
base and abject. The discerning 'faculties of
the person who possesses this liberty must be
more clear than that of any other man. There
is nothing within him to interrupt the light of
truth, or to drown the voice of reason. He
hath calra and quiet enjoyraent of hiraself
He is a stranger to the cutting pangs of re
raorse, and the wild uproar of turaultuouslusts.
He is the seat of harraony, peace, and tran
quillity. The passions fulfil their proper ends
without exceeding their proper limits. They
produce pleasure and gratification without un
settling the adjustments of his raind, by be
coraing untractable and licentious. They aid
and quicken him in his pursuits, without
precipitating and endangering him. They are
like wind and tide, which carry on the vessel
of life without driving it on rocks, or causing
it to overset and sink. It is not indeed pos
sible to iraagine what satisfaction takes place
in a raind which has a full dorainion over it
self, and where the sacred blessing of liberty
sheds its influence. There is in such a raind
a consciousness of dignity, which is raore de
sirable than any sensual gratification, and
which cannot be given by the possession of
any worldly honors and titles. There are no
such sources of joy and rapture as a coramand-

222
ing reason and vanquished passions, and it is
here alone that we ought to seiek the happi
ness we universally wish for. But the slave of
passion — the raan who wants the ability of
doing as he approves and serves his lUsts,
what a miserable drudge is such a man?
what inward tortures does he endure?
We are all sensible pf the dreadful evils
coraraonly attending civil wars ; — but there
is no such civil war as there is in the soul of
such a raan. There is no such scene of riot,
disorder, and distress. Think here raore par
ticularly of the dreadful remorse which a per
son of this condition must feel. He is
asharaed of the indignity which he puts upon
hiraself, and under a sense of his own thral-
dora he cannot help hating himself and crying
out, " O wretched raan that I ara, who shall
deliver rae frora this bondage?" We should
reraeraber that reason when dethroned will
endeavour to regain its authority, and there
fore will produce tumults and insurrections.
If it is not allowed its just rights, it will avenge
itself by rending our souls, and obliging us to
turn our own tormentors.
Having thus endeavoured to explain spiri-

223
tual liberty, and to shew its importance, I
must beg leave now to enquire what you will,
do: — stand up for this liberty? or surrender
it to thp enemies of your happiness? Is it
possible that any of us should chuse to sacri
fice this liberty, and with it this honour, credit,
and happiness to base and wretched passipns?
How wonderful is it that there should be any
occasion for exhorting men to be free and not
slaves,; or in other words to be men and not
brictes? We aU of us, in this happy cpuntry,
glory in our privileges as free men. We often
hear the highest encoraiuras on liberty, and it
is without doubt irapossible to say too much
in praise of it.
Without natural liberty the whole creation
would be nothing but a system of dead and
worthless machinery. Without civil liberty
all comraunities would want order, dignity,
and virtue; and without raoral liberty all in
dividuals are blind, irapotent, and raiserable.
In every sense of the word, therefore, liberty
is one of the first and raost essential blessings.
We are all in this country justly zealous for
civil liberty. Would to God we were aU free
in the best sense! That civil liberty which we
so passionately adraire has nothing valuable

224
in it corapared with the liberty which I have
been explaining. To this then let us apply
bur warraest zeal. He who is conscious of
wanting this, should be asharaed of pretend
ing any zeal for the other. To have the soul
in shackles is infinitely worse than to have the
body in shackles. To subrait to the despo
tisra of debasing lusts is infinitely raore dis
graceful than to subrait to the despotisra of
a civil usurper, and he who does the one raay
without great difiiculty be drawn to do the
other. I am exhorting you, fellow-christians, to be
free. You may say that you are Britons, and
therefore in possession of freedom. But the
proper reply is that made by our Saviour to
the Jews " he that committeth sin is the ser
vant of sin." If in any instance you are sub
ject to your passions you are in slavery; for,
as St. Peter says in my text, " Of whom a
man is overcome, of the same is he brought in
bondage. Resolve then to guard against this
slavery. Happy the raan who has established
his raind in purity, who has raised hiraself
above low prejudices and appetites; and is in
dependent of the world and all its teraptations.
Such a man is the greatest of mortals. He

225
is under the protection of the Deity, and the
happiness he now enjoys will be continued to
him to all eternity.
It would be proper on this subject to give
an account of the best means for acquiring
and raaintaining inward liberty. But I shall
only mention the following direction. If you
would be free, put yourself under the influ
ence of the Christian religion, and attend to
its doctrines. In the truth of the gospel we
have the best means of success. Christianity
is the perfect law of liberty. It affords the
strongest motives to goodness, and those who
study it properly, cannot fail of recovering
theinselves from the bondage of corruption,
and attaining to the glorious attributes of the
children of God,

226

SERMON XIL

TRUST IN GOD, THE BEST SUPPORT OF THE
RIGHTEOUS UNDER AFFLICTIONS,

ISAIAH, L, 10.
Who is among you that feareth the Lord, and
obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh
in darkness and hath no light ; let him trust
in the name of fhe Lord, and stay upon his
God.
T 7ARI0US are the calamities to which
^ huraan life is subject, and it is irapos
sible to be better eraployed than in en
deavouring to alleviate thera by adrainistering
consolation under thera. There is no one
who has not something or other to disturb
his rest, and to try his patience. Many groan
under heavy trials and afflictions, and those

227
who are are now freest from trpuble, and most
prosperous and happy, know not how soon
the scene raay change, and sickness,
sorrow, and -adversity take place of health
and mirth and gaiety. Considerations, there
fore, which have a tendency to support under
trouble, or to prepare us for it, can never be
offered unseasonsably. In such circumstances
I cannot address myself to you in more
proper words than those of the prophet
Isaiah, which I have just read to you.
In these words three things offer them
selves to our consideration, ,1st. the ch
cumstances they describe, walking in darkness,
and seeing no light. 2dly, the very im
portant truth, that in such circumstances our
best relief is trusting in the name of ihe Lord,
and staying ourselves upon God; and 3dly,
this further truth, that the relief derived from
hence can be enjoyed only by those that fear
the Lord.
Let us first consider the circumstance ex
pressed by the words walking in darkness, and
having no light. This description is properly
applicable only to circumstances ofthe deep
est distress. In our darkest h,ours there are
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228
generally some rays of light left. If some en
joyments are withdrawn, others reraain. If
we suffer in one way, we receive pleasure in
another, Seldora does it happen that our
condition is so deplorable as to be entirely
glooray and wretched. I shall not, therefore,
confine this discourse to such a case, but con
sider the words as a general description of
those evils, great and sraall, which in the
present world involve the path of life in
darkness, and diminish the happiness allotted
to us. It would be vain to attempt to give
any particular account of the evils to which
hutnan life is subject. All things, the wise
man tells us, are full of labour, man cannot
utter it. Numberless are the afflictions in
body, mind, or fortune to which we are liable,
and under which mankind are continually
suffering. While some are coraplaining
of their losses, others are laraenting their
successes. While sorae are raourning over
dead relatives, others are raourning over
living ones. One was lately happy in a cora
panion and friend, — a wife perhaps, a hus
band, or a child who was the comfort and
delight of his life ; but he has been torn frora
hira by the stroke of death. He is left alone
to travel the journey of life. He recollects

229
with anguish the happiness he has lost, and a
black veil is spread over all his enjoyments.
Another has met with disappointments in his
pursuits, or misfortunes in business. He has
been crossed in his hopes, and has miscarried
in his undertakings. He is sunk under dif
ficulties, and reduced from ease and plenty
and affluence to perplexity and poverty.
One is languishing under a fatal distemper, —
his strength exhausted, and his spirits broken ;
the capacity of enjoying pleasure gone, the
king of terrors threatening him, and the
dreary grave opening to receive him. Another
is pining away in a deep raelancholy, ter
rified by apprehensions of iraaginary evils, a
stranger to every cheerful thought, anxious
and distressed he knows not why, every object
about hira thrown into a dismal shade, and
his whole soul wrapped up in darkness iand
horror. In such circumstances we are necessarily
led to look out for comfort. Our condition
would be dismal indeed had we nothing to
stay our minds upon, or no cheering reflec
tions to make in a time of private or public
distress, when perhaps all the help of raan is
vain. But this is not our case. There is an
Q 3

230
anchor of hope on which we raay always rely
when tossed on the tempestuous sea of this
world. There is a fund of consolation to
which we may always have recourse amidst
the calaraities to which we are liable, I mean,
trusting in the name of the Lord, and staying
ourselves upon God. This is the relief to
which we are directed by the words of my
text. Are then any of us dejected or un
happy? Is our prospect darkened by any
cloud, or are we discouraged by the prospect
of irapending evil ? Let us turn our thoughts
to the Deity, and refiect on his perfect
government. Let us consider that the Lord
reigneth, and that his righteous Providence
directs all events ; and that we cannot suffer
except by the will of a wise and faithful
Creator, This will throw a bright light into
our minds, and give us relief and support in
all circumstances.
In order to be more explicit here, I would
observe, 1st, that in such circumstances we
should consider, that the Deity is always inti
mately present with us, and sees all that passes
in the world. It is his constant influence that
preserves the world, and were he to withdraw
his hand, or to suspend his energy, all nature

231
would fall to pieces. He cannot, therefore,
be unacquainted with any thing we feel or
fear. He is indeed one with our souls ; the
first mover in every motion, and the ani
mating principle which gives efficacy to aU
the powers of nature,
2dly, In times of darkness it is proper we
should further consider that this Being who is
continually present with us, stands in the
nearest relation to us. He is our parent, —
we are his offspring. He is our maker, — we
are his creatures ; and it is impossible there
should be a nearer relation than that of
children to their parent, or of creatures to
their Creator. Frora Hira we derive all our
faculties, — to Hira we owe all we possess ;
the world is the work of his hands, and
through and to Hira are all things.
3dly. To these reflections, let us add that
this Being, thus present with us, and thus
related to us, is alraighty, all-wise, and all-
benevolent. He is alraighty, for it is self-
evident that He who made all things must
have an absolute comraand over all things.
This is is a sufficient reason for ascribing to
Him infinite power ; and in the same way we
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232
may be assured that he is all-wise. In the
structure ofthe world, and in the frame of all
the raeanest objects in it we observe proofs of
incoraprehensible contrivance and skill ; audit
follows from hence, with the clearest evidence,
that the Maker must be incomprehensibly
wise. God is the source of all the order, all
the nice adjustments, and all the regular syra-
raetry and beauty in nature ; and therefore so
perfect and exquisite, that it is irapossible to
conteraplate thera without adrairing and
adoring his. wisdora. He is in particular the
source of all the knowledge and wisdora which
are possessed by the different orders of
beings in the universe. To Hira all rea
sonable creatures owe all their ideas, all their
sagacity, and skill. What a vast sura of
knowledge would all the knowledge scattered
through the world raake, if collected and
united in one Being ? The Deity is that one
Being. He possesses in hiraself all their
knowledge, and infinitely more ; for he is the
unor igin ated spring of it all.
The cause of all order, the parent of all
raind, the giver of all knowledge, cannot be
iraagined to have exhausted hiraself by what
he has produced. AU that we or any of his-

233
creatures can see or conceive of intelligence
or wisdom can be no more than a faint shadow
of the fullness which dwells in his essence.
In short, he that wishes to obtain a lively con
viction that there exists in nature an alraighty
and perfect Reason which pervades and guides
all things ; let him look over the world, —
let him conteraplate its beauty and order, —
let hira reflect on the perfection of workraan
ship and art displayed in every plant and
insect, — let hira think of the knowledge
which exists in the various orders of beings
who corapose the system of the universe ;
and let him at the same time consider that
the cause must always be endued with a
higher degree of those perfections which exist
in the effect. And if, after this, he can want
conviction, or remain in the smallest degree
incredulous, he must have a raind strangely
blind and insensible.
But what is most of all important is, that
the Deity is all-benevolent as well as al
mighty and all-wise. There is, we have seen,
a self-existent Power and Intelligence which
gave birth to all things. Now benevolence is
a part of the idea of Intelligence ; for the fit
ness of the communication of happiness, or

234
the rectitude of benevolence is one of the
first truths, and raust therefore be one of the
first objects of intelligence, This raakes up
all that we can wish to be true, and finishes
the character of the Deity. He lives as
necessarily as he is truth and power. Infinite
power iraplies in it infinite intelligence, and
since raoral fitnesses are a part of truth, infi
nite intelligence implies in it perfect moral
rectitude, and particularly boundless benefi
cence. Infinite power, wisdom, and good
ness therefore form one idea, and are neces
sarily united in the first Cause, There is no
truth so important as this. It throws a lustre
on every object, and is enough to reconcile us
to every event. It is confirmed by the voice
apd testimony of all nature. Wherever we
see power displayed, there we see benevolence
displayed. Thewhole design of that adaptation of means
to ends, of that correspondence of objects to
one another, and of all that araazing skill and
harraony which we see in the constitution of
the world, is to provide for and to give sub
sistence to living beings, who are all the off
spring of benevolence. There is not a single
instance to be found in which the Author of

235
nature appears to have intended pain for its
own sake. The coraraon and ordinary state
of every living creature is a state of health,
and of some kind of enjoyment. A state of
suffering is always a violent state, or the con
sequence of throwing nature out of its proper
and usual course. Our pains are always either
necessary remedies for some disorders, or
necessary preservatives from sorae dangers, or
a necessary stiraulus to sorae useful exertion.
What wretched creatures should we be, did
We not continually receive the admonitions
given us by the pains of hunger and thirst, — •
of fear and anger and sharae ? The pain of a
wound or of a disteraper is intended for no
other purpose than to engage us to take care
of our own preservation. The pain of re
morse is intended to deter us from the com
mission of sin. The pain we receive from
the misconduct of relatives, — the troubles of
friends, or the calamities of our country, are
the necessary effects of those public affections
and kind instincts which link us to one
another, and without which we should lose
all the joys of society.
The like is true in every instance ; nor is it
possible to make the smaUest alteration in the

236
plan of nature^ without either losing some
greater good than that which we would securoj^
or producing some greater evil than that
which we would exclude. I know there are
men who think themselves wise enough to
discover errors in the constitution of nature,
and to be able to show how it raight have
been contrived in a better raanner. I wonder
at the folly and presuraption of these raen.
It would be strange indeed if they (poor, rep
tiles of the dust) could see further than the
Being that raade thera ; or were wiser than
that Nature to which they owe all their wis
dora. But all their objections have hitherto'
proved no raore than their ignorance. The
more the works of God have been enquired
into, the more their perfect order has been>
seen, and the raore reasonable it has ap
peared to ascribe all that puzzles us in thera
to the narrowness of our views, and the ira
perfection of our faculties.
How ridiculously arrogant does that king
appear to us (now that the true order of the
solar systera has been discovered) who said,;
that " if the Creator had consulted hira, he
could have directed to a better disposition of
the heavenly bodies." I have no- doubt, if

237 «
we had just views of Nature and Providence,
but that we should see all the faults that
atheistical raen have found with thera to be
equal proofs of presuraption and arrogance.
Nothing can afford such a ground for con
solation in seasons of darkness, as the reflec
tion on which I ara now insisting ; on this
joyful and glorious truth, that there exists in
nature a self-existent and perfect Reason,
which gave being to all things, — which per
vades, governs, and conducts all things to the
best ends. We cannot with proper attention
conteraplate nature without perceiving this,
and it gives a stay for our rainds which can
never fail or disappoint us. The immediate
and necessary inference from it is, that we
cannot possibly fall into any distress, or suffer
any evil which it is unfit we. should suffer.
This is just as certain as that there is a Deity
who is present with us, and knows what we
suffer ; that he is our Maker, and cannot see
what we suffer with indifference ; that he is
oranipotent, and able to reraove it — infi
nitely good, and incUned to reraove it. Re
member this, whenever any afflictions threaten
you. Look up then to the first Cause, and
consider that his goodness cannot but chase

238
out of nature every calarnity as soon as it
becoraes needless or iraproper.
My feelings have been sometiraes so shock
ed when I have seen a fellow-creature groan
ing under distress, that I have been ready to
cry out in ray haste, " how is it possible that
such sufferings should be consistent with the
goodness of the Deity?" But I have soon
corrected rayself by considering, whence did
I receive these feelings? Can I be raore
corapassionate than the Being who gave me
my corapassion ? Were he raalevolent, would
he have raade rae to detest raalevolence ? Is
it credible that he should have planted within
rae principles which render his own character
shocking to rae ? Let us then in every
season of private trouble, or public calaraity,
trust in the name of the Lord, and stay our
selves upon God. We exist not in a forlorn
or fatherless world. We are the care and
charge of infinite wisdora. All is well in
nature, and every event subject to the best
superintendency. We can wish for nothing
beyond this. In such circurastances, to re
pine and mourn would be folly intolerable.
It would be to repine and mourn because the
world is not governed according to our nar-
5

239
row views ; that is, because it is not governed
wrong. Could we work into our hearts these
convictions, or bring ourselves properly under
their power, we should receive every afflic
tion as a blessing ; and in the midst of a
storm or convulsion that may overturn a
kingdom, we should hear a voice whispering
peace to us, and assuring us of a favourable
and happy issue. In short, knowing that
every circurastance in the constitution of the
world, and the administration of events is
right beyond a possibility of cprrection, and
good beyond a possibility of improvement, we
should at all times take up the words of the
prophet Habbakuk, although theflg-tree should
not blossom, or fruit he in the vine, though the
labour of the olives should fail, and the flelds
yield no meat, and the flock be cut off from the
fold, and there should be no herd in the stall ;'
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, and glory in fhe
God of my salvation.
I cannot help observing here particularly,
that our confidence in the Deity ought to be
implicit ; and that no appearances of irregu
larity in the dispensations of his providence
ought to have any tendency to destroy it.
Such appearances are unavoidable to creatures

240
who see but a part of the plan of Providence,
and who are such incorapetent judges of it as
we are. There could not indeed be a stronger
objection to it than our finding it so level to
our capacities, that. nothing in it appeared to
us irregular or raysterious. This would be a
greater difficulty than any that now occurs to
us, in conteraplating God's governraent. It
would iraply, that the world was established,
and that the course of events is directed by a
wisdora no higher than our own.
In exaraining the works of a complete
artist, do you ever expect to understand the
propriety and beauty of every part of it ? In
order to this, ought you not yourself to be a
complete artist ? In reading a learned book,
do you not always reckon the obscurer parts
to be of a piece with the other parts — and
not conclude them to be nonsense, because
you do not understand thera ? In consider
ing also the raeasures of any huraan govern
raent, do we not always reckon the same kind
of allowance for our own ignorance to be
reasonable ? In the present instance there is
infinitely more reason for making such an
allowance ; for we are infinitely less qualified
to judge of the works of God and the scheme

241
of Providence, than the lowest of us are to
judge of the measures of the best-conducted
governraent. It is necessary I should add, that all the en
courageraents on which I have now insisted
are confirraed and encreased by the Christian
revelation. The arguraents I have offered prove
that we may assuredly expect an exemption
frora every evil that it is iraproper we should
suffer, and the possession of every good that
it is proper we should enjoy. The voice of
Revelation concurs with reason in giving us
this expectation. Christianity teaches us, that
" not a sparrow falls to the ground without
our heavenly Father, — that the hairs of our
head are all nurabered by hira, — that His
tender raercies are over all His works, — that
He never willingly grieveth any of us, — that
afflictions are sent by Him for our correction
and improvement, — that He only is wise and
righteous, and at the sarae tirae in such a
degree that it may be justly said that there
is none besides good, — and that, in particu
lar. He has displayed his goodness to us in
sending Christ, the great Messiah, into the
world to reveal His will to us, to deliver us
from death, and to bring us to a blessed and
B

242
glorious immortality." This is an inform
ation which raises our hopes to infinity; and
under the influence of this hope we are ex
horted to rejoice everraore, in every thing to
give thanks, and to welcorae tribulation as
working for us an exceeding and eternal weight
of glory.
The language which the Scriptures direct
us to adopt in times of darkness is such lan
guage as the following : " When my soul
fainteth I will remeraber the Lord, He is ray
light and ray refuge, therefore will I not fear,
though the earth be reraoved and the raoun
tains be carried into the raidst of the sea.
O Lord of hosts blessed is the raan that
trusteth in Thee ; he shall not be afraid of the
terror by night, or the arrow that flieth by
day ; no evil shall befal hira, neither shall any
plague corae nigh his dwelling."
3dly, It should be observed that the ex
hortation in my text is addressed only to the
pious and obedient, and it intiraates to us
plainly, that the trust in God, which gives
support in affliction, can be exercised only by
thera. It is in well-doing that we are com
manded to commit our souls to God. If we

243
practise iniquity we have nothing to look for
but his displeasure. The restraint of wicked
ness is one necessary instance of the perfect
righteousness of his administration. Exact
order takes place in the constitution of na
ture and the dispensations of providence, and
this order will appear in the treatraent we
shall receive. But then, it will appear only
in the happiness that will be dooraed us, or
the suffering that will be inflicted upon us.
God's governraent proceeds by judgraents as
well as by blessings, by punishments as well
as by rewards ; and this is absolutely necessary
to the production of the greatest good.
In forraing our expectations therefore from
the universal Parent, we raust exaraine our
characters, reraerabering always this fiinda
mental truth, that to every one shall he given
according to his works. If our trust is not
regulated by a regard to this truth, it will be
nothing but a dangerous delusion. We may
be assured that whatever is, is right; but at the
sarae tirae we should consider, that in the
case of vicious beings that right consists in
raaking thera exaraples ofthe pernicious con
sequences of vice. The order of the world,
and the very benevolence of the Deity re-
r2

244
(Juire this. How deplorable is such a con
dition? In the midst of the harraony of
nature, to have no reason for joy. To pos
sess principles and habits which are obstacles
to the Divine munificence, and to lose all
share in that boundless profusion of blessings,
which are distributed through the creation —
to be in a state which forces us to reflect with
terror on that governraent of the Deity which
is the spring and the security of all happi
ness, and to raake goodness itself our eneray
and avenger? What can be so horrible or
shocking !
But to come to a conclusion, we are,
fellow-christians, fallen into dark times; but we
should not suffer ourselves to despond. That
person has no reason to be afraid of evil
tidings whose heart is fixed, trusting in the
Lord. Should private or public adversity
come, we may be assured that all will be made
to end well, and to issue in the advancement
of truth and righteousness.
Under this apprehension, let us look up
with confidence to the Supreme Disposer of
all events, believing the doctrine on which
I have been insisting, " that infinite wisdom

245
and goodness govern the world — that every
thing takes place in nature which the raost
benevolent heart can justly desire, and that a
good man has nothing to do but to leave
events to God, and to wait quietly for his
salvation." Let others dance the round of pleasure —
Let others fly for relief to the dissipations so
prevalent among us — But let us follow the
advice in my text — Let us trust in the natne
of the Lord, and stay ourselves upon God.
This, I have shewn you, is the best relief in a
state of suffering, and the only ground of
peace, and hope, and joy in all circumstances.

R 3

246

SERMON Xin.

ON THE NATURE OP TRUE RIGHTEOUSNESS.

Matthew xxv. 46.
And these shall go away into everlasting punish'-
ment, hut the righteous into life eternal.
THESE few words express the most inter
esting and awful truths that can pos
sibly enter into the mind of man. They were
uttered by that person whom we all believe
to be the Son of God and our future judge.
They inforra us what the future lot is to be
of the whole human race. Sorae of them are
to go into everlasting punishment, and the'
rest into life eternal. By everlasting punish
ment here is plainly meant the sarae that is
elsewhere called everlasting destruction and
the second death, or the same with what our
4

247
Lord means, when in other places he speaks
of " burning up the chaff with unquenchable
fire," and " throwing the tares into a furnace
of fire, where is weeping and gnashing of
teeth." It would be extremely absurd to
understand such phrases in a sense strictly
literal. They can raean no more than a
miserable extermination, like that of chaff or
tares when thrown into an inextinguishable
fire which consumes them. On the contrary,
by everlasting life in my text is plainly raeant
preservation, in opposition to extermination, —
an everlasting existence in opposition to ever
lasting destruction, — a blessed iraraortality
in Opposition to a second death. These dif
ferent ends, our Lord tells us, are to await
men according to their different conduct and
characters; that is, the wicked part of man
kind, the goats whora he represents in the
preceding verses as rejected by hira, as turned
to his left hand and ordered into that fire
which was prepared for the devil and his
angels. These are to be sent into everlasting
punishraent, but the righteous, the sheep
whora he represents as placed on his right
hand, and as preserved and favoured — these
are to go into life eternal ; they are to go
into life, not into death, like the workers of
r4

248
iniquity ; into life eternal, a state of happi
ness where they shall exist and iraprove for
ever under the eye and care of the Alraighty.
It is of unspeakable iraportance to us to
possess clear ideas of the two opposite cha
racters here referred to, or of the principles
and qualifications which will constitute us in
our Saviour's sense those goats who are to be
rejected, or sheep who are to be preserved,
and raade happy for ever. Into these two
classes, or in other words into the righteous
and wicked, our Lord divides all mankind ;
and my business will be to endeavour to assist
you in forraing just ideas of this grand divi
sion, by shewing you what that is, which will
constitute us truly righteous, and the want of
which will prove that we ought to be classed
araong the workers of iniquity, I ara sensi
ble that this is a subject of a truly delicate
nature, and nothing could have led me to the
selection I have now made of it, but a con
viction of its particular importance. If too
loose an account is given of the essence of a
virtuous character, negligence and licentious
ness wiU be encouraged, and many perhaps
confirmed in mistakes concerning themselves
which will prove pernicious to thera. On the

249
contrary, if too strict an account is given, the
endeavours of men to acquire virtue may be
discouraged, and those who are in reality pos
sessed of it may be led to an unreasonable
despondence and scrupulosity, I think that
I shall avoid both these extremes by insisting
on the four following particulars, as necessary
to entitle us to the denoraination and cha-r
racter of righteous raen, 1st. The establish
ment within us of good principles, and act
ing from them. 2dly. The superior efficacy
of such principles within us to the efficacy
of all other principles. 3dly. The raanifest
ation of their superiority by avoiding all habi
tual guilt and practising all known duties :
and 4thly, a constant endeavour to grow
better, /
1st. The establishraent of good principles
within us, and acting from thera. The prin
ciples of action within us are various ; and
sorae of thera may produce a conduct out
wardly good, when at the same tirae there
may be no true goodness in the character.
Ofthis kind are the fear of the disgrace at
tending a vicious conduct, the love of peace,
and the desire of private eraoluraent. As far
as these or any such principles actuate us, so

250
far we cannot be deeraed virtuous. The
proper motives of virtue are the love of truth
and right, and a regard to God's will and
authority ; and it is only as far as we are in
fluenced by these motives that we are vir
tuous. The proper end of a raoral agent as
such, is virtue ; and nothing can be virtue but
what proceeds frora a love to it for its own
sake, and on its own account ; nor can any
thing be properly religion as distinguished
frora virtue, but what is done from a regard to
the Deity, and in obedience to his will and
authority. 2dly, The efficacy of these principles within
us must be superior to the efficacy of any
other principles. In other words, they must
not only exist within us and influence our
conduct, but they raust be predorainant. It
is evident that they may possess our hearts,
but not in a due degree. It is in truth im
possible that any one should be quite desti
tute of them. Though not predominant,
they will remain, and if they do not govern
they will torment. It is proper to observe
here that the huraan frarae is a coraposition
of various passions and affections answering
different purposes, and standing in different

251
relations to one another, but all under the
governraent of reason or of conscience.
This is the proper natural state of man, and
true goodness is nothing but the preservation
of it, by maintaining conscience and the Deity
in the throne of our minds, and keeping aU
the passions and affections in subjection to
them. Wickedness, on the contrary, is the
violation and loss of this sound and healthy
state by the tyranny of the passions, and the
disobedience of our lower powers to the au
thority of reason. This will shew us that
whenever any one of our passions gets the
ascendancy over us, and in any instance pro
duces a habit of conduct, we lose true good
ness, — the order of the soul is broken, God
and conscience are no longer possessed of
the suprerae controuling power within us,
and therefore our characters become properly
vicious. Would we then obtain a just know
ledge of ourselves, we must compare our
regard to the obligations of truth and righte
ousness with our regard to other objects, —
the influence of reason with the force of
passion. We must enquire whether there
is any one of our lower powers which con
quers and enslaves our higher powers. We
must place our love of God, our concern

252
about our eternal interest, and zeal for what
is holy and worthy in one scale, — and our
love of the world, our concern about our
teraporal interest and regard for fame and
profit and pleasure in the other scale, and
find which preponderates. If we find that
we are less attached to our teraporal than our
spiritual interest, — that we prefer the favour
of God and the joys of virtue to every thing
that can corae in corapetition with them, —
that we are ready to renounce all honour and
pleasure rather than give up our integrity,
and that all our affections are in a state of
subordination to that faculty which God has
made to be our ruling faculty : If, I say, we
find this to be true of ourselves, then is our
moral state good, our characters virtuous, and
our acceptance certain. Nor is it possible for
any considerate person to iraagine that less than
this can be sufficient to constitute a righteous
character. Can he be a good raan who loves
the world raore than his Maker ? who prefers
his raoney or his credit to his piety? who
minds teraporal raore than eternal things, —
or who has any one object of pursuit which
engages hira raore than the pursuit of virtue,
or any one propensity that is stronger than his
conscience ? It is indeed upon this point that

253
all turns in the present question. And till
the moral part gets the victory over the
aniraal part of our nature ; or in other words,
till the raan within us can controul the brute,
and the principles of piety and virtue obtain
sorae degree of real supreraacy, we must con
tinue among the votaries of vice, and in a
state of guilt and danger.
It is to be feared that some deceive thera
selves by concluding too hastily from the
operation of good principles within them, that
they are virtuous, without enquiring into the
degree of efficacy which these principles
possess, and considering that it is not those
who love God, but those who love hira above
all things, — not those who hate wickedness,
but those who hate it raore than any of the
evils that can be avoided by it, — not those in
whora good principles exist and operate, but
those in whora they direct and govern, who
are those righteous raen who will enjoy
eternal life. It is a very coraraon observa
tion, " that it is the riiling passion that deno
minates the character." The ruling love of
power denominates a man arabitious, — the
ruling love of praise, a vain man, — the ruling
love of pleasure, a man of pleasure, — the

254
ruling love of money a covetous man, — and
in like raanner, the ruling love of righteous
ness denorainates a righteous raan.
3dly, I have mentioned that the superior
efficacy of good principles within us raust be
raanifested by avoiding all known and ha
bitual guilt, and practising all known duties.
The strength of inward principles is only to
be deterrained by their effects on our con
duct, and the necessary effect of the princi
ples of virtue on our conduct is that now
raentioned, if they exist in their due strength ;
and whoever he be that allows hiraself in the
neglect of any important duty which he knows
he ought to discharge, or in the commission
of any known crirae, every such person
(though in other respects he may possess
many good qualities) wants true goodness ; a
regard to his duty has not its due force on
his heart, and it is evident concerning him
that he is under a different government from
that of reason and conscience. The duties
we are to discharge, and the sins we are to
avoid, are divided into those respecting God
and ourselves. A virtuous man raakes con
science of discharging equally all those duties,
and of avoiding all those sins.

255
I ara here led to take notice of two ex
tremes into which we are in danger of faUing,
both of them common and both pernicious.
One is the extrerae into which those persons
fall who magnify raoral and social duties, and
who think that because in the general course
of their lives they endeavour to perforra those
duties, and are harraless, peaceable, friendly,
sober, and honest, they are safe and happy ;
while at the sarae tirae they are conscious of
disregarding the duties of piety, and neglect
ing the worship and horaage due to the
Deity, These persons, as far as their con
duct in social life is unexceptionable, are
greatly to be esteeraed and adraired. But
should they not reflect that their duty to raan
is not their whole duty ? that there is a God
who made them, who clairas their first re
gard, and that by neglecting Hira they render
themselves blameable, and contract a guilt,
which, as far as it is indulged and continued
in, can no more be consistent with the su
periority of good principles within uS than
any other instance of known and deliberate
guilt. It is impossible to observe without grief
that irreligion which now prevails in this

256
kingdom, among even persons of decent
and reputable characters. Many of these
never think of worshipping the Being who
made and preserves them, and who guides
all events. They live as without God in the
world. There is surely a gross and funda
mental defect in their characters, and though
not so faulty as gross imraorality, it is an in
troduction to it, and very often terrainates in
it. For that decency of conduct and regard
to honour in social transactions, which wants
the aid and spirit of religion, is not likely to
be very stable or uniforra. Reraeraber, then,
that the addition of religion to raorality is
necessary to true virtue.
I need not here recite to you the particu
lars of the duties we owe to God. The chief
of thera are the reverential love of hira, — re
signation to his will, — trust in his good
ness, — the iraitation of his perfections, and
prayer to hira in private, in public, and in
our families. That raorality is miserably de
ficient which is not accompanied with the dis
charge of these duties. In truth, a regard to
the Deity ought to go with us through every
transaction of life ; it ought to be the ani
mating principle in all our virtuous actions.

257
But there is another branch of duty which
it is proper for me to mention here. I would
distinguish it by giving it the appeUation of
Christian duty, and I mean by it that duty
which results from our particular situation as
Christians, and the relations in which we
stand to Christ as the founder of Christi
anity, — the Mediator between God and
man, — the Prophet who came into the world
to teach us God's wUl, — the Deliverer who
died for us, — t^e Saviour who has rescued us
from death, and raised us to the hope of a
blessed imraortality, and the Lawgiver and
Judge who is hereafter to distribute rewards
and punishraents to all raankind according to
their works. It would be folly to pretend
that relations so important do not lay us
under particular obligations, or that they can
be innocently neglected, We ought there
fore to join the discharge of those duties with
the other duties of religion, by directing our
views to Christ, as being that to us which the
gospel reveals him to be, and which God has
made him to be, — by honouring and loving
him as our Lord and Saviour, — by keeping
his sayings, and complying with his institu
tions. Such are the duties incumbent upon
us in addition' to private and social duties,

258
and a faithful attention to which is necessary
to coraplete the character of a righteous raan
and sound christian.
You should recollect on this occasion that
our Lord raakes loving our neighbour as
ourselves subordinate to that of loving God
with all our hearts, and with all our strength,
w'hich he caUs the first and great coraraand
raent ; and also that he declares this to be
eternal life, " knowing the onfy true God and
Jesus Christ whora he hath sent ;" and that his
apostles are constant and zealous in repre
senting "repentance towards God, and faith
towards our Lord Jesus Christ as the grand
terras ofthe covenant of grace." But I have
said enough of the extreme into which those
persons fall who confine their attention to
morality without regarding religion. The
other extrerae which I proposed to raention
is that into which those fall who confine their
attention to religion and faith, without duly
regarding raorality. This is by far the raost
pernicious error of the two, and nothing is
more to be lamented than that there should
be so many who fall into it, and pretend to
be zealous for God and Christ, and all posi
tive and christian duties, but at the same time

259
want zeal for honour, and integrity of conduct
in social life. We all knew that there are
many who would not on any account neglect
prayer, break the sabbath, or orait a sacra
ment, who yet will not scruple what is worse,
I mean over-reaching and cheating, defaming,
lying, and slandering. What can be more
inconsistent, what raore shameful than this ?
Have such persons never attended to St.
Paul's declaration, that " now remaineth faith,
hope and charity ; but that the greatest of
these three is charity ?" Can they be igno
rant that our Saviour has told them that " the
weightier matters ofthe law are justice, truth,
and fidelity, and that these things they ought
to do, not leaving the others undone?" Do
they not know, that it is the design of religion
to mend us in every relation, — to make us
better masters and better servants, better
parents and better children, and raore indus
trious, peaceable, generous and worthy ; and
that a profession of religion which does not
produce this effect, only renders us raore in
excusable and wicked. Let none of us then
think of any thing so monstrous as a separa
tion from one another of religion and morality.
If they are not united, we can at best possess
only a partial goodness, and no such good-
s 2

260
ness will be accepted. I say not however
that such goodness can be of no use to us.
God will, it is certain, distinguish between
bad and worse, as well as between good and
bad ; and any degree of virtue in our cha
racter, however defective, will produce at
least this good effect ; it will (so far as it is
possessed) lessen the weight of our guilt, and
consequently of our future conderanation.
But, brethren, no religious goodness but that
which is coraraanding and prevalent, which ex
tends its influence to our whole duty, and which
excludes all indulged and habitual vice, — no
religious goodness but this can denorainate us
righteous men. St. Jaraes tells us, that he
who keeps the whole law, and offends in one
point, (that is, deliberately and statedly,) is
guilty of all. He that is honest and kind and
faithful, but at the sarae tirae a drunkard, a
garaester, or a scoffer at religion, is an en
slaved sinner as really as if he sinned in raore
points ; and the sarae is true of him who prays
and fasts, and attends divine ordinances, but
is not honest, kind, and faithful. The reason
of this is plainly, that an allowed breach of
any one of God's laws, or indulgence of any
one bosom vice deraonstrates that the balance
ofthe internal powers is on the side of vice.

261
and that if such a person had equal temptations
to offend in other instances, he would do it,
and become abandoned.
I hope you wUl not mistake me on this
subject. What I am now insisting upon is
totally different frora an exeraption frora
every fault. God forbid that this should be
necessary. It is an entire character that is
necessary, not a perfect character. Our vir
tue in order to be genuine raust be uniform
and consistent ; but it does not follow from
hence that it can never admit of any thing
irregular in the teraper or conduct. Sorae
infirraities wUl cleave to the best raen, while
they continue in this world. It is irapossible
that our passions should be so far conquered
as that they shall never hurry us to any thing
that our hearts shall disapprove. This would
iraply a total and complete conquest, to which,
God knows, we are not equal. An eneray
may be subdued perfectly, though still pos
sessed of power enough to raise disturbances,
and to give much trouble. In short, what
constitutes true goodness is the supreraacy of
good principles, manifested by a prevaUing
and universal obedience, and a freedora frora
all indulged and habitual sin. Wherever this
s 3

262
supremacy exists, there exists a virtuous cha
racter, though it may be attended with raany
weaknesses and infirraities. Of this supre
macy there are nuraberiess degrees, and these
degrees are what raakes a virtuous character
more or less virtuous, and consequently more
or less amiable and excellent.
This leads me to the 4th particular, which
I have raentioned as included in true virtue,
and that is a constant endeavour to get better.
Though we cannot attain to perfection, yet we
raust aira at it. He that rests in the good
ness he possesses, and thinks that he is good
enough, is raost probably not good at all.
He that in a virtuous course has no higher
ambition than just to get within the gates of
heaven, will probably never get there. Temp
tations raay sometiraes find a gopd raan off
his guard, and his passions may mislead hira.
But whenever this happens, he studies irarae
dlately to recover the ground he has lost.
He is put upon greater watchfulness, and he
is always raourning over the remains of raoral
iraperfection within hira, and labouring to re
raove thera. Such is the nature of true good
ness ; and now let us for a few raoraents turn

263
our reflections on ourselves, and exaraine our
own state.
Would you know to which class of men you
belong ? — the good or the badj — the righteous
or the wicked? Consider whether the par
ticulars I have been explaining are united in
your characters; consider whether you are
actuated by virtuous principles, — whether
their efficacy is superior to the efficacy of
any other principles, — and whether this
superiority shews itself by right conduct, and
an endeavour to be continually improving.
Consider in particular whether there is any
one evil passion or criminal habit that governs
yPur resolutions, and is above the controul of
conscience? Whether, though you are not
free from every fault, yet you are free from
every vice ? Whether, though your obedience
is hot sinless, yet it is sincere and uniform ?
Whether, though you cannot say that you
never sin, yet you can say that you do not live
in any course of sin? Whether you dis
charge your duty to God and raan and your
selves, — add raorality to religion, and religion
to raorality ; are charitable, corapassionate,
and faithful, as well as devout and pious, and
maintain a regard to the peculiar duties which
s 4

264
your knowledge and profession of Christianity
require from you ?
To this exaraination of yourselves, permit
me now at the conclusion of this discourse
earnestly to exhort you. It is impossible that
any thing should be of more consequence to
yOu. ' All that is valuable to you depends on
the issue of such an exaraination. Self-
deceit is very coraraon. Mistakes in this
case are very dangerous, and raany will be
undone by neglecting to examine theraselves,
and indulging careless and false hopes. Con
sider particularly that an awful period ap
proaches, when according to the represent
ation of which ray text is a part, every raan's
work and character will be tried, in order to
a deterraination of his final lot. Does it not
become us to ask ourselves how we are likely
then to appear? Is; it not proper that we
should anticipate that period by now trying
ourselves ? Is it not sad that we should be
capable of being so indolent as we are, when
we know not how soon death and judgment
raay come upon us, and eternity receive us ?
What considerate person can help laraenting
the inadvertency and sloth which prevail in
the world? These men believe not that a

265
state of just retribution is near them ; or (if
they did) would they not, if in their senses,
examine how they stand with respect to it ?
Would they not do this seriously, carefully,
and imraediately ? Self-enquiry is the proper
eraployraent of a reasonable being, and
nothing can render it disagreeable but the
fear of raaking discoveries that will shew us
our ill state. And is it not better that this
should be discovered now, when it may be
remedied, than hereafter when it will be too
late? Let us, then, brethren, think of our ways,
and live no longer in darkness about our
characters and expectations. Let us now
resolve that we will for the future study our
selves more, and never give way to careless
ness and sloth, Happy are those who are
often making the enquiries I have proposed,
and continually watching their characters, — •
who possess the comfort and triumph which
arises frora finding (upon making such en
quiries) that all is well with thera, — that they
are the children of grace, the true disciples of
Christ, and the heirs of everlasting glory !
This must give a new relish to all their pre
sent enjoyments, — make afflictions light,

^66
and reduce this vain world to nothing in
their estimation, God grant that this may
be our happiness, and that no one of us may
lack any thing necessary tp his acceptance.
Let us follow peace with all men, and wisdom,
without which no one shall see the Lord, look
ing diligently (as St. Paul speaks) lest through
some root of bitterness remaining within us, any
of us should fail of the grace of God.

267

SERMON XIV.

ON THE EVIL OF SIN.

Proverbs, xiv, 9.
Fools make a mock at sin.
1KN0W of no better way to prove the
evil of sin than by giving an account of
the nature of it. We have indeed no other
enemy under God's government but this, and
did we possess our rainds with just ideas of
its malignity, or properly understand what it
is, it would be impossible for us to raake
light of it, or not to study earnestly to avoid
it. In the following particulars I shall endea
vour to comprize all that is most necessary to
remember in considering what sin is, and by

268
attending to them we may, I think, be able to
fix in our minds a deep sense of its evil.
In the first place we raust consider sin as
a transgression of the eternal laws of truth
and righteousness. These are raoral obliga
tions or laws of rectitude which are founded
in the nature of things, and result necessarily
frora the different relations of agents and ob
jects. They have the sarae origin with the
self-existent reason of the Deity, and cannot
possibly be destroyed by any power, or even
dispensed with for a raoraent in any part of
the universe. They are of the sarae force in
all times and places, and bind alike all rational
beings. They are in particular the rule and
raeasure of all the actions of the Deity. By
them his will is always guided, and accord
ing to them He governs the world. They are
therefore in the highest degree sacred and
awful. To sin is to act in contradiction to
them, and therefore it is striking at what is
most of all important and sacred. It is to
set up our own will in opposition to the un
alterable nature of things. It is to do what
eternal truth and reason forbid. It is to trans
gress those rules of rectitude and equity to
which all creatures are placed in subjection,

269
and by which the Creator hiraself always
acts. 2dly. Sin is contrary to the order and con
stitution of the world. It is very evident that
He who raade the world and established the
present constitution of nature, intended that
righteousness should be practised, and that
this should be the lawof the creation. Then
only are beings and agents what they should
be, ^vhen the moral differences of things are
complied with; — when the rules of equity and
justice are observed, and all rainds pay hom
age to the obligation of virtue. To sin there
fore is to counteract the plan of nature, and to
break the order of the universe.
3ddy, Sin is contrary to every person's pri
vate judgment and conviction. It is doing
what the sinner knows he ought not to do,
and what he conderans and hates himself for
doing. It is disobedience to the dictates of
our consciences, and offering violence to our
best and highest powers.
From hence, 4thly, it follows, that sin is
contrary to the will of the Deity. He is him
self righteous, and therefore he must cora-

270
mand righteousness. By making things to
be what they are, — by establishing the pre
sent order of the world, — by giving us our
rational and moral natures, and placing us in
the relations in which we find ourselves. He
has in the clearest raanner signified that it is
His will that we should acknovyledge in our
actions things to be what He has made them
— that we should discharge those duties which
result frora the relations in which He has
has placed us, and pursue that course of con
duct to which we are called by the consciences
He has given us. He who practises virtue
obeys this will of the Deity, and walks in the
way raarked out to hira by his Creator: but
he who sins wilfully, offends and affronts the
Deity by counteracting and disobeying Hira.
His language is, " I will not have God to
reign over rae, or regard His law." It is im
possible there should be a worse aggravation
than this of the evil of sin. By it we resist
that will which reared the universe, and rise
up in rebellion against Oranipotence.
It iraplies ingratitude to the Author of all
happines — a base abuse of his goodness —
sedition under his government, and a defiance
of his holiness and justice. Thus then we see
5

271
that sin is 1st, a contradiction to truth and
right. 2dly, A contradiction to the consti
tution of nature. 3dly, A contradiction to
the frame and feelings of our rainds ; and
lastly, a contradiction to the nature and will
of the eternal Deity. In other words, it is
the absurdity of attempting to make things to
be what they cannot be — the presumption of
opposing ourselves to the order by which the
world subsists — the madness of violating our
inward convictions, and the impiety of with
drawing ourselves from our allegiance to God,
and throwing conterapt on his sovereign au
thority. Such is sin in its nature. I will next
desire your attention, while I endeavour to
shew what it is in its consequences.
It is easy to see that what implies so rauch
evil in its nature raust be productive of equal
evil in its effects. FrPm a root so deadly
must be derived fruits proportionably deadly.
I might here say all in one sentence, by ob
serving, " that it is the sole cause of all that
is evil in nature." There is nothing else to
which this term can be properly applied, or
which is a reasonable object of aversion. But
it is necessary that I should be more particu
lar on this subject.

272
1st. Sin has the raost pernicious effect on
our rainds. It pollutes and injures thera
in the worst manner. Then only is the soul
in its right state, when the faculty of reason
preserves its superiority over our other facul
ties, or when our different affections are not
only rightly balanced with respect to one ano
ther, but all subject to the direction and
controul of conscience. Sin destroys this in
ward order. It places the passions on the
throne of reason. It elevates the lowest, and
degrades and enslaves our highest powers.
That part of our nature which is iraraortal
and divine, it renders subservient to the bru
tal and abject part. It distorts therefore the
constitution of raan, and introduces into it
confusion, turault, and disease ; the conse
quence of which raust be, pain and torture.
A vicious soul has quitted a natural and
sound, for an unnatural and depraved state.
It is unclean, self-accusing, and impotent. It
has lost order, health, and dignity, and with
these must be lost peace and bliss. A rea
sonable being living in contradiction to the
reraonstrances of his reason, and opposing his
will to the nature of things, must be as
wretched and raiserable as he is deforraed
and raonstrous. Every act of iniquity gives

273
the soul a dreadful wound. He that in any
instance goes contrary to his sense of moral
good and evil, lays the foundation of un
speakable trouble. But indulged iniquity
and all habits of moral evil lay waste all that
is lovely and beautifying within us, and if
retained, must produce irretrievable ruin.
If you would have a more just sense of what
I am now saying, think of those pitiable crea
tures, so common in this world, who have no
other guide of life but blind appetite, who
are torn by passion, distracted by maliCe,
envy, pride, or arabition, — conscious of ill
desert, at variance with theraselves, con
demned by their own hearts, and full of fore-
toodings of future punishment. What crea
tures can you imagine more loathsorae, or
more wretched ?
You should remeraber here that our rainds
are ourselves, and that on this account sin, by
injuring our rainds, injures ourselves in a
more just and proper sense than any thing
else. Disease only injures our bodies : Scan
dal only injures our good narae, and worldly
losses and disappoiritmerits only affect our
fortunes. But they will not, except it be our
.own fault, do the least harm to what is prpr
T

274
perly ourselves. Nothing but sin can do
this, and in this lies the difference between it
and all besides that is called evil. While
other evils reach no further than those ob
jects which are external to us, and the ap
pendages of our being, sin reaches the soul
itself, and plants in it darkness, turault, and
death. Other evils are so only in appear
ance, and for a tirae. If they are real evils, it
is because they are blended with the evil of
sin, Disappointraents in our pursuits, and
distresses of fortune may in the end prove to
be the greatest blessings.
It may be well for us that we have been
sick, or poor, or defaraed ; but it can never
be well for us that we have violated our con
sciences, and acted basely. Vice, in the idea
of it, is nothing but debasement, folly, weak
ness, and misery. It is therefore really and
unalterably evil. It raust prove the bane and
curse of every raind as far as it is admitted ;
and the contrary is just as irapossible as that
causes should not produce their genuine ef
fects, that fire should not burn, or that poison
should not destroy. It may be proper to
add, that sin necessarily alienates the raind
from God, deprives it of his favor, and cuts it

275
off from the only rest and stay of reasonable
beings. There is an essential repugnance
between the nature of God and every kind of
moral evil. He can have no pleasure in ini
quity. It is (to use the language of one of
the prophets) the abominable thing his soul
abhorred. Light and darkness, spotless pu
rity and turpitude, must be the same, before
a vicious soul can have any coraraunion
with him. Sin therefore brings upon our
rainds the shocking calaraity of wanting the
protection of their Maker, of losing fellow
ship with the cause of all happiness, — of
being under the displeasure of God, and
having hira for their enemy.
Such are the effects of sin on the soul of
man. Let us next consider its effects on the
world around us. Of other systems and the
universe at large we can know little. There
is, however, one important circurastance re
lating to thera which we are capable of dis
covering with certainty : I mean, that in
whatever part of the world, or araong what
ever systeras of beings, the obligations of
righteousness are disregarded, this order is
subverted, and the foundations of happiness
are destroyed. This is a truth that is taught
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276
lis clearly by our ideas of the natures of
things ; nor is there perhaps a raore proper
raethod of gaining- a just sense of the evil of
sin than by reflecting, that were it to spread
through this wide and fair creation, it would
blast all its glory, tarnish all its beauty, and
convert it into a dark and dreary chaos.
But the general prevalence of sin through
nature is an event which we may be assured
can never happen under God's government.
We know, however, that the councils of Pro
vidence do not require the total prevention
of it ; for there is one part of nature into
which it has been permitted to enter. We
see that among raankind all flesh have cor
rupted their ways and come short of the
glory of God. Let us then, on this occasion,
take a view of the general condition of man.
What a scene of tumult and war is this earth ?
Who can think without pain of the labours,
diseases, and sorrows which dirainish human
happiness ? How is civil society continually
distracted by feuds and dissensions ? How are
the annals of past time filled with accounts of
fertile provinces laid waste, and kingdoras
overturned? Of bloody battles and horrid
slaughter, — of seditions, disasters, and tra^

277
gical revolutions ? How have the best bles
sings of life been converted into the worst
curses ? — order into licentiousness, — govern
ment into despotism, — and religion into a
glooray and vicious superstition ? Sorae pine
away in poverty, — some are racked by ex
cruciating torments. Sorae rave in the cells
of lunacy, — and sorae are rotting and perish
ing in loathsome dungeons. Here a band of
oppressors with haughty insolence tread
on those below them. There a body of re
volters rise up in their own defence, and hurl
vengeance on their tyrants. Here an army
of invaders attack the innocent and peaceful^
destroy their dwellings, and involve a happy
people in desolation and carnage. There a
famine or pestilence spreads terror every
where, and depopulates a nation. In one
country a king destroys the civil rights of raen,
and sacrifices raiUions to his folly, his pride,
or his avarice. In another, a priest destroys
their religious rights; and in many countries
the power of both unites in upholding and
enforcing error, in persecuting the sincere
enquirer after truth, and in enslaving the
human race.
But it is neither agreeable nor necessary to
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278
proceed with this detail, I have entered upon
it only to draw your attention to the origin of
all these evils. Did raankind pay a proper
regard to the obligations of righteousness,
huraan affairs would wear a very different
face, and this earth would be the seat of un
disturbed enjoyraent and happiness.
God is the best as well as the greatest of
beings, and the parent of nothing but good.
It is sin (that is, our own faulty choice) that
has brought forth evil. It is this that, by
counteracting the Deity, renders human life
miserable, and fills it with groans and lament
ations. This is the eneray that points the
arrows of adversity, that arras the eleraents
against us, that racks the body with pain,
and wrings the heart with anguish. This is
the incendiary that kindles the flaraes of war,
that erabroils society, and that stirs up ambi
tion and pride to depopulate and ravage the
world. This is the bitter fountain of every
danger that threatens you, of every calamity
you fear, of every tear you shed, and every
pain you suffer ; and if you would acquire a
just sense of its raalignant nature, gather to
gether all the heart-aches, the vexations, the
cares, the confusion, the agonies and dis-
6

279
tresses which it has occasioned araong man
kind. Could you do this fully, or trace in a
proper manner the calamities of raankind to
their sources in their follies and crimes, you
could not but be penetrated with the most
overwhelming sense of its evil.
But we must not stop here. All that we
now see of the effects of sin, is but the be
ginning of the raisery annexed to it. In this
world there are raany causes which prevent it;
from being always followed by its proper con
sequences. Though in general miserable,
and often extreraely so, yet it never produces
its full effects. The coraplete infliction of
the punishment due to it is reserved for
another world. There the wicked will be
gathered into one place, where they will be
made examples of divine justice. Could I
properly represent to you the horrors of that
world where joy is never known, and where
hope never comes, I should have it in ray
power to convince you effectually of the evil
of sin. But I cannot dwell on such a subject.
The sura of what has been said of the effects
of sin is this : It makes the soul the slave of
vile passions, and the seat of anarchy, remorse,
and shame. It darkens, pollute>>, and debases
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280
the human m,ind. It separates man from
God, brings his displeasure upon him, and
destroys all his hopes. It violates those
laws of righteousness by which Nature sub
sists, and it would, were it to become pre
valent, overturn all order, destroy all hap
piness, and involve the creation in one com
mon ruin.
After this account of sin, I need not ask
you whether it is not folly in the extreme
to raake a raock at it? May God impress
upon our hearts a due sense of the truths
which have now been delivered, and lead
us to such a hatred of sin as shall engage
us in our future conduct to flee from aU
the approaches to it, and to make this the
only object of our anxious concern and
study !

281

SERMON XV,

ON THE EVIL OF SIN.

Proverbs xiv. 9.
" Fools make a mock af sin."
T N a former discourse I endeavoured to
-^ represent the evil of sin, and in doing this
I represented it as contrary to the eternal
difference of moral good and evil — as incon
sistent with the plan and constitution of Na
ture — as a violence offered to our inward
feelings and convictions — as disobedience to
the Sovereign of the world — as our debase
ment and misery — and as destructive to the
order and welfare of the creation.
Upon considering this subject, it is a very
natural enquiry, " whence came this evil, and

282
why is it not excluded from the world?" " Is
not the Deity almighty, and able to exclude
it, and is he not also perfectly benevolent and
willing to exclude it?" These are enquiries
which offer themselves unavoidably to all
thinking persons, and which in all ages have
puzzled human wisdom. Perhaps we have
not faculties for understanding the full an
swer to them, and for my own part I am
very wiUing in tiiis instance to acquiesce in
my own ignorance. I see in the constitution
of Nature traces of benevolence and depths
of wisdom which exceed unspeakably my
coraprehension, and which leave me no room
to doubt but that the Author of nature is su-
preraefy benevolent and wise. I ara not very
anxious about knowing more than this. AU
the appearances that puzzle me I ascribe with
out hesitation to my iraperfect knowledge,
partial views, and disadvantageous situation.
I know that in an extensive and coraplicated
plan, contrived by infinite wisdom, there must
be raany things that the reason of raan cannot
explain or account for. What would in truth
forra the strongest objection, and appear raost
of all unaccountable, would be, that crea
tures who are but of yesterday, who see but a
small part of God's works, and know almost

283
nothing ofthe history ofthe universe ; — what;,
I say, would be raost of all unaccountable
would be, that such creatures should be pro
per judges of the works of God, or find them
selves capable of discovering bleraishes arid
defects in that order and wisdom of Nature,
to which they owe their existence, and from
which they derive all their wisdora. I pity
the raen who believe they have these capa
cities, and who have pretended to point out
instances in which Nature has erred, or might
have been better contrived. This is worse
than folly, .It is intolerable arrogance and
presuraption. Till they are wise enough to
make a world, they should not take upon them
to raend a world. Till they can find one
production in Nature which discovers no raore
skill in its structure than they can explain,
they should not erect themselves into judges
of the structure of the universe, or pretend
to be able to correct the councils and dispen
sations of Providence, Were we corapetent
judges of the ways and governraent of the
Deity, or could we discover real faults in them,
or conceive iraprovements of them, the con
sequence would be, that they are derived
from an intelligence and knowledge inferior
to our own; or in other words, that the effect

284 ¦V
exceeds the cause, and that a reptile in the
dust is more wise and good than the being
who made it, and who is the spring of all
knowledge and goodness.
There cannot be a greater absurdity than*
this. The same incoraprehensible wisdora
that we know to be displayed in the frarae of
every beast, and bird, and vegetable, we raay
be assured is displayed in the frame of intelli
gent beings, the order of providence, and the
governraent of events, Araidst all that ap
pears raysterious to us we raay rest our souls
on this joyful truth, that all is well in nature,
or at least so far well that it is not possible
for us to see or conceive how things might
have been better. With respect therefore in
particular to the introduction of evil into the
world, we may know (whether able to account
for it or not) that it raust be right. But we
need not rest the solution of this difficulty
entirely on our ignorance. We are not in
this instance quite in the dark, nor is it neces
sary that we should content ourselves with a
confidence entirely iraplicit. There are seve
ral considerations, which raay help us in some
measure to account for the admission of evil;
and which have a tendency to shew that it is

285
consistent with infinite wisdora and goodness.
I should be carried too far into a very ab
struse speculation were I here to say rauch.
I shall therefore desire your attention only to
the foUpwing considerations :
1st. It should be considered that the crea
tion of free agents, that is, of beings endued
with active and self-directing powers, is abso
lutely necessary to the production of the
greatest happiness ; such powers being the
foundation of all virtue and raerit, and con
sequently of all rational and raoral hap
piness. Infinite goodness therefore required
the coramunication of such powers, and by
requiring these it required also that scope
should be given for exerting thera. To create
free agents without granting thera a sphere of
agency ; or to communicate powers, and at
the same time to leave no room for their
exertion, is an inconsistency which cannot be
supposed of infinite wisdom. As far as
•moral agents have no coraraand over events,
or are not perraitted to act as they please, so
far they have no powers, and lose the capa
citv of rendering theraselves praise-worthy
and useful, and of acquiring that good desert
which, is t;he chief grpund of honour and dig-

&

286
nity among intelligent beings, and the ne
cessary recommendation to favor under God's
government ; and a systera of such beings
would be only a systera of passive instru
raents void of value, and incapable of the
highest enjoyraents.
It should never be forgotten, that raoral
agency iraplies, in the very notion of it, the
capacity of acting wrong as well as right,
and that there cannot be true virtue without
the power of being vicious, or good desert
without the power of contracting ill desert.
The possibility therefore of the introduction
of raoral evil is the necessary consequence of
granting raoral powers ; nor could it have
been excluded in any other way than either
by not granting such powers, or by restrain
ing the exercise of them. In this way indeed
evil might have been excluded ; but in this
way M'ould have been excluded also all that is
most worthy and honourable in the creation,
and therefore it is a way of preventing one
evil by producing an infinitely greater. In
the same raanner exactly a civil governraent
raight prevent the coraraission of criraes in
a state by shutting raen up in their houses, or
tying their hands and feet. But no civil

287
government can ever think of any such rnea-
Sure, because with evil it would exclude all
good, and destroys the very being of civil
Society. It may, I know, be objected that free
agents might have been produced, and a
scope for agency given them without the
actual introduction of evil into the world;
because they might have been formed with
such dispositions, and placed in such circura
stances, as would have exerapted them frora
temptation, and secured their right conduct
in every instance, and thus prevented, though
not the possibility, yet all the danger, and.
consequently the reality of moral evil.
In answer to this, it may deserve to be con
sidered, whether in the infancy of intelligent
beings, and before they have obtained any
security from experience and habits, there
must not always be some danger of devia
tion. But waving this, I am ready to ac
knowledge that it is indeed possible to place
intelligent beings at the coraraenceraent of
their existence in such a state as shall secure
their innocence. But then, it is scarcely
conceivable that such a state could be a state

288
of trial and discipline, and we do not know
how proper it raay be that intelligent beings
should at first pass through this, and be made
to rise gradually to higher degrees of per
fection and bliss, in consequence of having
been educated for them, and rendered them
selves worthy of thera in such a preparatory
state as this life is to mankind. Supposing,
however, neither of these observations a suf
ficient answer to the present objection, it
may at least be said, that it implies a limit
ation of the goodness of God ; for to say that
God should have placed all beings in states
so disposed as to exclude all the danger,
arising frora their free agency, of raoral evil,
is the same as to say that he should have
created only the highest order of intelligent
beings. But the truth is, that the ends of
goodness required the creation of the lower
as well as the higher orders of creatures.
This is necessary to establish a contingency
in the states of beings, and to give scope for
the exercise of virtue and beneficence in the
universe ; and by this means to give to beings
the capacity of a god-like dignity and bliss,
hy doing good to one another. It is further
extremely plain, that goodness is more dis
played by bringing into, existence every dif-

289
ferent order of beings that are capable of hap
piness, than by bringing into existence only
the highest orders.
This then being the truth, and a variety of
orders of beings, together with a precarious
ness in their states, being necessary to the
greatest happiness, it follows that it was
necessary to produce the more defectible, as
well as the less defectible beings, and that
soraewhere or other in the scale of existence
there raust be introduced such a being as raan.
But I shall not proceed further with a dis
cussion so perplexed and difficult. We see
evil in the world, and we have every reason
to believe that the perraission of it is the re
sult of the wisest councils. Amidst the dif
ficulties that occur to us in contemplating it,
let us remeraber that it is permitted only for
a time. We raay be assured that it will,
some time or other, be exterminated; that
God will take effectual . care of the order of
his works, and that reason and righteousness
wUl at last (under his superintendency)
triuraph over folly and vice. A period is
coraing when all the powers of wickedness
shaU be broken, and the devil and all his
works be destroyed, u

290
We are apt to be irapatient and hasty. It
is proper that the tares and the wheat should
at present be suffered to grow together, be
cause the one cannot be rooted up without
rooting up the other. At the time of harvest
the tares shall be gathered together, and
burned with unquenchable fire, while the pre
cious wheat shall be preserved and gathered,
as our Saviour speaks, into God's barn. This
will be the issue of all present events. This
is the awful catastrophe towards which we are
tending. The future punishment of the
wicked will exhibit a dreadful warning to the
world, and magnify the holiness of the Deity.
Good therefore will arise out of present evils
and we shall find reason to cry out with ex-
tacy, " Oh the depths of the wisdora and
goodness of God." In short, let us do our
duty, and avoid the evil that is in the world,
and we shall soon be witnesses to a glorious
revolution, and know " that verily there is a
God who judges in the earth, and who will
make it infinitely happy."
There are many practical reflections and
inferences which naturally offer theraselves on
the subject of this and ray forraer discourse.

291
To some of these I shall now desire your
serious attention.
1st. The account which has been given of
the evil of sin has a tendency to recoraraend
to our approbation and belief the scripture
history. This history raakes the raost
striking representation of the evil of sin.
Every part of it inculcates this upon us. The
grand lesson it teaches us is this. All the
calaraities which it relates are referred to sin
as their origin. God's hatred of sin and love
of righteousness it describes as the principles
which guide hira in the government of the
world ; and from hence it derives every dis
pensation of his providence, and all the revo
lutions that happen. In this respect it
differs totally and remarkably from all other
histories ; and he who believes it, and duly
attends to it, cannot but receive the deepest
impression of this truth, "that sin is the
parent-evil which produces other evils, and
gives them their force and pungency.
Has the human species fallen into distress?
Have we been degraded froni a state more
perfect and happy, to the present state of
labour, temptation, and hazard ? The scrip-
u 2

292
ture-history not only tells us the fact, but
assures us that it has had no other cause than
sin. Does death hold mankind in bondage,
and lay waste the earth ? It informs us that
sin flrst entered the xvorld, and with it came
death, and so death passed upon all men,
Rora, V. 12. Did an universal deluge sweep
off the whole race of mankind except eight
persons ? The scriptures tell us that it was a
judgraent of God upon mankind for their
wickedness. Did an eruption of fire from
the bowels of the earth destroy Sodom and
Gomorrah, and convert an extensive and
fruitful country into a smoking lake? The
scriptures tell us that it was owing to the sins
of the inhabitants, and that had there been
but ten righteous persons left araong thera,
they would have been spared. Does the de
vouring sword or a desolating pestilence
spread havock and misery through a town or
a kingdom? The scriptures never mention
such an event without ascribing it to the dis
pleasure ofthe Deity against wickedness. In
short, this sacred history, from the beginning
to the end of it, is nothing but one uniform
exhibition of the evil of sin, the iraportance
of virtue, and the justice of the supreme
Governor.

293
But 2dly, since sin is so great an evil, we
have no reason to be surprised at the severity
of the future punishment threatened to it.
The language in which this punishraent is
expressed in the scriptures cannot be repeated
without pain. The whole of it is expressed
by our Saviour in the sentence which he has
told us he will hereafter pronounce on the
wicked. Depart from me, ye cursed into ever
lasting flre, prepared for the devil and his
angels. Almost every word in this sentence
carries terror with it. A proper explanation
of it cannot be given. It iraplies the inflic
tion of the greatest calamity that can befall
a reasonable being, and we raay easily see
that it may be a right and necessary inflic
tion. I have shewn you what an evil sin is,
and what would be its effects were it to pre
vail through nature. It raust therefore be
restrained and discountenanced, A ven
geance upon it raust be taken suitable to its
malignity, and in every region of the world it
is necessary that it should be followed with
a curse that may deter frora the practice pf
it. Without this, the ends of goodness can
not be obtained. Without this, the order of
the world cannot be preserved, or nature sub-
gist. In a word, as long as God is either just
u 3

294
or wise or benevolent, he must guard his
works against this evil by punishing it in an
exemplary manner.
3dly. As sin is so great an evil, we ought
to consider how thankful we should be to
God for the hope he has given us in the
gospel of the pardon ofit. If we truly re
pent we are assured we shall be received to
favor, and not only delivered from the punish
ment due to our sins, but made completely
happy. This benefit we owe to that love of
God which sent Christ into the world to
save us. It is a benefit of infinite value, and
it demands our warraest praises. Let us adore
that sovereign grace which has thus dis
tinguished us, extended raercy to us notwith
standing our numberless transgressions, and
after we had raade ourselves guilty and un
worthy, lifted us to the hope of eternal life
and happiness.
4thly. From the account I have given of
the evil of sin, we may learn the presumption
of those persons who imagine they can atone
for it and deliver themselves from its conse
quences by the tricks of superstition. I have
just observed that pardon is offered to sin-

295
ners; but it is offered only upon the condi
tion of such a repentance as causes us to for
sake sin, and produces a thorough reform
ation of life. To expect to be saved from the
misery of sin, in any way but this, argues
folly unspeakable ; nor can any thing be
more melancholy than that such an expect
ation should be so prevalent as it is in all re
ligions. In truth, the religion of a great part
of mankind is little more than a systera of
ceremonies, by exactness in which they hope
to compound for vice. In Popish countries
particularly, raen are taught a way of recora-
raending theraselves to favour by telling
beads, by adorning the shrines of saints, and
ridiculous penances and raortifications ; and
even among ourselves in this Protestant and
enlightened country, there are many, I ara
afraid, who seriously believe they can make
amends for defects of temper and wrong
practices by ritual services, and a careful ob
servance of the outward forms of piety. Let
us be on our gud,rd against this most perni
cious error. Let us reraeraber, that a reli
gion that does not free us frora the power of
sin can never deliver us frora its punish
ment. Let us reraeraber that the use of
charms to relieve us under this evil will
u 4

296
render our condition more desperate, and
that in this instance there is no antidote but
expelling the poison, which if retained must
destroy. Once more, let me desire you to reflect
what reason we have for sorrow that we have
ever practised this evil. To think that we
have opposed ourselves to the obligations of
righteousness, counteracted the order of na
ture, and offered violence to our consciences ;
or to think that we have disobeyed the Deity,
abused his goodness, and raade ourselves ene
mies to the happiness of his works, — to re
flect on our deformity, baseness, and wretch
edness, as sinful creatures, — with what pun
gent grief and contrition ought this to fill
us ? How ought it to make us despise and
loath ourselves ? Did we see sin in its true
colours, or could we properly represent to
ourselves the opposition it makes to all that
is decent and reasonable, — the dishonour it
brings upon us, — the stain it leaves in the
soul, — the offence it gives to the Almighty,
the injury it does to the creation, and the
shocking ruin to which it exposes us; — could
we, I say, properly represent all this to our
selves, it would not be possible for us to

297
avoid feeling the sharpest anguish under the
Consciousness of what we have done araiss,
and crying out with anxiety, " Oh miserable
men that we are."
But let not any sincere penitent give way
to despondence. I have just observed that
forgiveness and favor are offered to every
contrite sinner. God is in Christ reconciling
the world unto himself, not imputing to them
their trespasses. Though we have drank this
deadly poison, we raay yet be saved. Though
we have incurred the displeasure of the
Deity, he will have mercy upon us if we
return to our duty, and forsake iniquity. To
this, fellow-christians, let rae now exhort
you with serious earnestness. Hate sin, for
there is nothing else hateful. Flee frora sin,
for there is nothing else that you have reason
to fear. This is the evil that ra ingles raisery
with the portion of happiness allotted us, im-
bitters present enjoyment, and destroys future
hope. Avoid it, then, and pray for God's
grace to help ypu in this work. If you fail
in this, it signifies nothing in what you suc
ceed. Every step we take in guilt is an ad
vance towards inevitable ruin. Every devia
tion from truth, and honour, and rectitude, is

298
a deviation from all that is desirable. Every
thing done with an upbraiding heart is a
shock given to our existence. Every wicked
passion indulged is a viper taken into our
bosoms, which if not thrown off, will sting us
to death. We have no other enemy under
God's governraent but sin, nor any thing else
which stands in our way to bliss. God de
lights in the coraraunication of happiness to
his creatures. His goodness flows an inex
haustible streara to all fit objects, and nothing
raakes us unfit but the indulgence we give to
sin. I say indulgence, for a freedora frora all
that is sinful is not required frora us. The
frailty of our natures does not admit of this.
Good men will be soraetiraes unhappily rais-
led by the deceitfulness of sin. But there is
nothing sinful in which they allow theraselves.
There is no vicious habit that enslaves them,
or evil passion that conquers thera in the
stated course of life. Happy are all of this
character. They have no infirraities that are
inconsistent with prevailing goodness and
true sincerity, and therefore they will be
accepted, and soon they shall be brought to
that world where the being of sin within
thera will be destroyed, — where they shall
attain to that perfection which they are now

299
labouring to acquire, and be fbr ever im
proving in virtue and felicity.
But what can be said pf those who live in
guilt and irreligion ? what a shocking state are
they in? what an enemy do they erabrace?
over what a precipice are they sleeping?
They have their own judgraents against thera.
They have all nature against thera, with the
order of which they are at variance. They
have the Alraighty against thera, whose laws
they break, and whose will they resist. How
dreadful then raust be their lot? Sorae of
thera will hereafter plead, " Lord, Lord, have
we not eaten and drank in thy presence, and
hast thou not taught in our streets? Have
we not kept raany a fast, offered up raany a
prayer, and received raany a sacraraent?"
But no such pleas will be of any avail when
judgraent coraes. The answer they shall re
ceive will be. Depart from me all ye that work
iniquity. In short, none but God himself sees the
whole importance and obligation of the laws
of righteousness, and therefore none but God
himself can understand the whole evil of de
parting from them.

300
To say no more, may God in mercy shew
us more of the evU of sin, turn our feet to the-
paths of wisdom, and form us to that sublime
temper which will cause all our fears to be
swallowed up in the one fear of committing
sin and offending God !

301

SERMON XVI.

ON THE ETERNAL HAPPINESS OF THE BIGHTEOUS
IN A FUTURE STATE.

1 John ii. 25.
" And this is the Promise that he has pro
mised, even Eternal Life."
MY design in this discourse is to endea
vour to engage your attention to the
nature and importance of that proraise of eter
nal life which is mentioned in the words you
have now heard. The word eternal, through
frequent use, is so familiar to us that we gene
rally pronounce it easily and lightly. But did
we attend as we ought to the raeaning of it,
we could not but be deeply impressed and
affected whenever we have occasion to men
tion it. Whoever indeed will take time to
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302
consider what an eternal existence is, or to
enter thoroughly into the reflection that he is
designed for such an existence, or, if truly vir
tuous, that he is never more to die, but to con
tinue in being through endless ages, the same
conscious and living agent he is at present ;
whoever, I say, will take time to enter
thoroughly into this reflection must find all
his faculties overwhelmed ; nor will it be very
easy for him to persuade himself that it is
possible that he should really have such a pros
pect before him. He will be disposed to
think it too amazing. He will perhaps be led
to consider that all about him is transitory and
mortal, and that even the world itself must in
tirae corae to an end, and frora hence he raay
be led to doubt whether there is not a parti
cular incredibility in the doctrine, that he is
hiraself so infinitely distinguished, as not only
to be capable of, but designed for an existence
that shall never corae to an end.
I cannot be rauch better eraployed than
in endeavouring to reraove such doubts as
these, by proving to you the credibility of that
proraise of eternal life raentioned in my text.
After which I propose to proceed further in
this subject, by insisting on one particular

303
fact concerning our future endless existence,
which I shall prove to be necessarily con
nected with it. I mean the circumstance that
it is to be an existence always improving. I
will then make sorae observations on the
striking and wonderful nature of such an ex
pectation, and conclude with sorae practical
inferences. Let us 1st, consider what evidence there is
for the credibility of the proraise of eternal
life or an endless future existence, raentioned
in the words of my text.
Here I would desire you to consider par
ticularly the nature of the huraan soul. It is
a siraple and indivisible substance, and there
fore as such incorruptible. This is not true of
our bodies, or of any of the sensible objects
with which we are surrounded. These are all
not one, but many substances united together,
and forraing particular compounds which as
such necessarily adrait of division and disso
lution. The world itself is only an assera
blage of an inconceivable nuraber of different
beings and substances standing in particular
relations to one another, and subject to parti
cular laws. It has therefore in it the princi-

304
pies of decay, and must in tirae, like every
work of huraan art, wear out and fall into de
struction. That system to which we belong
is a collection of bodies put together for par
ticular ends, and when those ends are answered,
and the limited period for which it was built
is spent, it is proper it should be taken to
pieces, and that new systems and new scenes
and plans of being should succeed it. Put
nothing ofthis kind can be said of the huraan
soul. It is not a machine consisting of a
variety of parts, and therefore it does not ad
mit of any separation of parts. It is not a
corapound of different substances, and there
fore cannot have in it any of the principles of
dissolution. All the deaths or dissolutions
with which we are acquainted are a resolution
of sensible objects or aniraal bodies intP their
component parts, each part still subsisting
and only acquiring new relations and connec
tions. The idea of death or dissolution is
not therefore applicable to any object that is
properly one, and consists not of parts. This
is true in some degree even of matter. All
the original and primary atoms, or particles of
matter, are naturally incapable of ceasing to
exist except by an exertion of that power
which at first created them. None of the

305
changes and vicissitudes that are continually
happening in nature, can have any other
effect on those priraary particles than to alter
the circurastances of their existence by sepa
rating or uniting thera in different ways, or
by breaking particular corabinations of thera,
and causing new corabinations to arise. What
is analagous to this raay with much more
reason and evidence be applied to the huraan
soul. To suppose that the principle of con
sciousness within us raay be split, or that it
consists of a number of consciousnesses, some
of which may reside in one place and sorae in
another ; this iraplies one of the most pal
pable impossibilities and contradictions.
There is nothing that is so much of an
unity as the soul of a man. The circum
stances and qualities of its existence may be
varied in nuraberiess ways. The exercise of
its powers raay be disturbed in any degree, or
even suspended for any tirae. But the sub
ject of these powers raust always reraain and
go on to exist independently of all changes,
till there is a positive exertion of that power
which brought it into being to put it out of
being. This is a conclusion that cannot be
evaded in any way except by raaintaining
that our, souls are nothing but a result from a
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306
certain configuration of parts, or particular
modes of motion or organization. But this
is so intolerably absurd that it does not de
serve a serious answer. We cannot conceive
of any thing so real or substantial as the prin
ciples which we call ourselves. If these are
not beings but modes and fleeting forms and
qualities, we can have no reason for thinking
that there are any beings in nature. Or if
(allowing that they are beings) they are not
each of thera unities, but a multitude of
beings, there is an end of all truth and cer
tainty, and we can pay no regard to any of
our feelings or perceptions. The arguraent
I ara now insisting upon is of great ira
portance on the present subject. Were it
said of the frail structure of a flower that it
would not perish, we could not possibly give
our assent. But when this is said of such a
substance as a diaraond, our assent is easily
gained. In like raanner, were our souls
nothing but modifications of figure and mo
tion, or results from the organization of our
bodies, they would be necessarily perishable
and transitory, and it would be irapossible to
give any credit to the doctrine of their eternal
existence. But as we know this not to be
the case, — as the truth is, that our st>uls are

307
agents or substances, which on account of
their simplicity are incapable of a separation
of parts, and incorruptible and unperishable
in their nature, — as, I say, this is the case,
we see that they are not only capable of im
mortality, but that they will be actually ira
raortal, if almighty power does not destroy
them, and the doctrine therefore of their
eternal existence appears to be highly cre
dible. Some are disposed to consider body
as the only substantial and durable reality.
But there cannot be a much greater error.
That sense within us which thinks and acts
and reasons, and feels pain and pleasure, is
without doubt the most substantial of all
realities. There is in truth more reason for
doubting whether matter is not a mode of
spirit, than there is for doubting whether spirit
is not a mode of raatter. Mind is prior to
body, and the cause of all its raotions and
properties. What is sensible and corporeal
is less excellent than what is intellectual, and
must possess a less firm and perraanent (ex
istence, I might go on to enlarge here on
the dignity of the soul bf man and the noble
nature of those faculties by which it per
ceives eternal truth, investigates the laws by
which Ihe universe is governed, and sees and
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308
knows the self-existent and incomprehensible
Deity, Oirr souls are indeed high and heaven-born
principles, infinitely superior to senseless and
torpid matter, rays frora the eternal divinity
and iraages of his suprerae perfection. Shall
it then be true, as I have before observed, of
even an atora of raatter, that it is naturally
incorruptible and iramortal, and shall not the
same be true of the soul ? — of that spiritual
and living sense within us, which is the seat
of all those high and noble powers of which
we are conscious ?
Let me desire you to consider in the next
place, that the point on which I am insisting
seems on some accounts to have a no less cre
dibility than the doctrine of a future state in
general. You should remember, that my de
sign is not to prove the credibility of a future
state, but the credibility of the particular
circurastance relating to it, — " that it is to be
eternal." There are raany reasons which
leave us but little roora for doubting whether
we are designed for an existence in another
world, A future state of rewards and punish
ments- has been from the creation the object

309
of general belief among mankind. The per
fections of the Deity require that every per
son should receive according to his works
strictly and invariably. And if this does not
happen in the present world, the just con
clusion is, that we are reserved for another
scene of being, in which it shall happen.
Now it must occur to every one, that if indeed
this imperfect and mortal state is to be suc
ceeded by another, it will be a raore perfect
state, and particularly a state of iraraortality.
We know, as I have already shewn, the soul
to be capable of a perpetual existence. We
foresee but one event that seeras to threaten
its existence, and if it is to get the better of
that event, we can scarcely avoid reckoning
that it will afterwards go on to exist for
ever. After surviving the shock of death, it is
natural to expect no raore death. This, how
ever, should be understood with limitations.
We have reason to think that the wicked
hereafter will be raised from death only to be
fixed in a state where they shall suffer a
second death. But this will be a punish-
nient inflicted upon them for their sins, and
perhaps it is in this case principally that the
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310
destruction of reasonable beings takes place
under the divine government. I ara not
indeed willing to think that such events are
coraraon in the universe, unless as punish
raents or exertions of justice on irapenitent
and hardened offenders. In this discourse I
have the virtuous part of raankind only in
view, and with respect to thera the forfeiture
of iraraortality by a course of guilt implies
that they will be exempted, or that where
reward and not punishraent will be intended
hereafter by the universal governor, there will
not be any such calaraity as a second death
more dreadful than the present. I am sen
sible that the contrary to this may possibly
be the fact. As God's power is continually
exerted according to stated laws in bringing
new beings into existence, so there may be
laws according to which it is exercised in
destroying beings.
This world might have been so contrived,
as that all raankind, after an adequate retri
bution, should perish totaUy in death ; and in
like raanner it is possible that our state of
future existence may be such that after
receiving according to the deeds done in the
body we may all perish in a second death.

311
It cannot be shewn that there would be any
thing inconsistent with God's raoral perfec
tions in this ; no being having a right to
everlasting existence, or indeed to any raore
than a difference between his state and that
of other beings, suitable to the difference in
his raoral character. But though this, for
ought we know, may have possibly been the
actual constitution ofthe Deity, it is not that
which we can look upon as the most credible.
The expectation of the total extinction of
virtuous raen, after being raised from death
to enjoy a reward adequate to their present
virtue : — this expectation, I say, cannot lay
easy upon our minds ; nor do I know of any
thing that gives us any particular reason for
entertaining it. What we are led on the
contrary to presurae is, that after being de
livered frora death we shall die no raore,
unless we have deserved it by wickedness.
That capacity of an eternal existence which we
have, seeras to be an intimation to us from our
Maker, that we shall actually enjoy it, if we
do not render ourselves unworthy ofit. This
expectation exhibits the Deity more to us in
the character of a perfectly benevolent as
well asjust Being. It is much more agreeable
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312
to our ideas of alraighty and everlasting wis
dora and goodness, than the expectation of
the universal extinction of reasonable beings,
after enjoying a limited period of existence.
Nothing is too much to be expected from
infinite goodness. What an idea indeed does
it give us of this attribute, to think of my
riads of reasonable creatures, who in every
moraent of duration are brought into being to
be happy, not for any limited period, but for
ever. This is an exercise of goodness worthy
of that incoraprehensible Being who gave
birth to the universe, and the end of whose
universal governraent is universal happiness.
There is something at which our minds must
recoil in the notion that virtuous beings in a
future state, after existing for some time in
happiness, shall be struck out of existence.
Why should this be done? — Not to display
God's justice by extirpating from the creation
vicious and worthless beings ; for I am speak
ing only of virtuous and worthy beings. Nor
could it be done for making room for other
beings ; , for space is infinite, and therefore
affords roora for an infinite number of beingSj
and for all possible displays of benevolence.
In truth the longer a virtuous being has ex
isted, the more reason he seems to have for
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313
expecting to be continued in existence. The
longer he exists, the raore improved in virtue
he must be, — the more his usefulness and
value in the creation raust be, — the worthier
object he raust be of his Maker's favour, and
consequently the raore fit to be preserved.
That in these circurastances the power of
the Deity should be exerted to destroy hira, —
that at the very time when he is fittest for
existence, and relishes it most, and is raost
approved by his Master, he should be cut
off, and exterrainated for ever; — this carries
in it an appearance so harsh, that it cannot be
received as likely without the aid of very
strong arguraents. And though, were it
known to be indeed God's appointraent, vir
tuous men (on account of their having en
joyed raore happiness than they can claira)
would still have reason for warra gratitude,
yet the reflection on such an appointraent
would have a necessary tendency to darap
their rainds. The foresight of an end to the
future bliss of heaven would necessarily
render it so rauch less a heaven ; and the
greater the bliss was, and the longer it had
been enjoyed, the more disagreeable would
be such a prospect.

314
But not to dwell any longer on reasonings,
which though probable, are undecisive, and
cannot: give the full conviction we wish for ;
let rae now, in the last place, call for your
attention to an evidence on this subject,
which is plain and direct, and fitted to pro
duce the strongest satisfaction. I raean the
evidence arising frora the assurances of the
Christian revelation. This informs us in the
plainest language, agreeably to the obser
vations I have made, that the righteous shall
be happy for ever, and that death and de
struction are adraitted under the divine
governraent only as punishraents. This is
the proraise, ray text says, that God has pro
mised, even eternal life. " Those who shaU
be accounted worthy, our Lord says, to ob
tain the resurrection from the dead, shall be
like the angels, neither shall they die any
more." Luke xx. 35, " God so loved the
world, that he sent his only begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in him, should not
perish but have everlasting life." " This is
the true bread that carae down from heaven,
and he that eateth of it shall live for ever."
John vi. 18. "Into the heavenly city, de
scribed in the 21st chap, of the Revelations,
shall be gathered all the nations of them

315
which are saved, that is, all the faithful and
virtuous, and they shall reign, we are told,
for ever and ever." Rev. xxii. 5. To the
same purpose we read in 1st Peter, i. 4, "that
we have been begotten again by the resur
rection of Christ from the dead to the lively
hope of an inheritance incorruptible, unde
filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved in
heaven for us." And in 2 Cor. v. 1 , " that
we have a house not raade with hands eternal
in the heavens." And in Titus i. 2, " that
we are heirs according to the hope of eternal
life, which God, that cannot lie, hath pro
mised." Christianity informs us particularly on this
subject, that we were originally made and in
tended for iraraortality, and that Jesus Christ
appeared in the world to reinstate us in the
hope,of it. By hira life and iraraortality have
been brought to light. By him death has
been destroyed, and all the righteous have
obtained the hope of a future resurrection to
a new life, — to a Ufo that will be happy and
glorious, — to a life that shall be continued
through all duration, and never corae to an
end. " The wages of sin is death, but the
gift of God is eternal life through Jesus

316
Christ." Rom. vi. 23. This is indeed a bles
sed hope, a hope agreeable (as I have en
deavoured to shew) to our notions of God's
boundless goodness, and of the capacities and
dignity of the huraan soul. But it should
never be forgotten, that the language of
scripture liraits it to raen of virtuous cha
racters. The wicked are not proper objects
of such favour. They are not fit to be pre
served in the creation. "All that are in their
graves shall hereafter hear the voice of the
Son of God, and shall corae forth ; they that
have done good to the resurrection of life, and
they that have done evil to the resurrection
of conderanation." Both those, therefore,
who do evil, and those who do good, will be
raised up frora death at the coraing of Jesus
Christ ; but the one will rise to die again
more dreadfully, the other wUl rise to die no
more. Such will be the distinction which
will be raade between the righteous and the
wicked. A distinction raore iraportant and
awful than any words can describe, or any
heart can conceive. A distinction which will
display equally the wisdora and the goodness
pf the Deity, — his wisdom in dooming to
perdition all the workers of iniquity, and his
goodness in bestowing on those who work

317
righteousness a happiness that shall last
throughout eternity.
Let us here pause a moraent, and reflect
more closely on what I am saying. If truly
righteous, we are through the Redeemer of
mankind to burst the bands of death at the
last day, and to recover the exercise of our pre
sent powers. We are to enter upon a new
state of being, where mortality shall be swal
lowed up of life, and the hand of death shall
never reach us — where our happiness shall
continue always uudirainished, and our exis
tence be coraraensurate with that of the ever
lasting Deity. Is not this indeed too vast a
hope? What! to survive the sun and stars! to
live for ever ! — to exist in bliss beyond all
the liraits of tirae, and after being happy for
myriads and rayriads of ages to be no nearer
to an "end of our happiness than at the first
moment when it begun ? Can this be possible ?
Fellow-christians it is possible. The argu
ments I have offered prove it to be more than
possible. They prove it to be probable, nay
certain, if the gospel is true. But you raay
enquire further. Must not existence in time
grow tiresome to us? After millions of ages
have been spent, shall we not find employment

318
wanting for our faculties, and the funds of
happiness be exhausted ? These are enquiries
which our present condition leads us to raake.
In this world raost objects when they becorae
farailiar to us becorae insipid. Scenes which
have lost their novelty lose likewise their
relish; and after reraaining a long tirae in any
situation we are apt to grow irapatient, and to
wish for new scenes and eraployraents. But
we raust not judge of our condition in another
world by our condition in this. Our future
state will be raore improved and perraanent.
The irapatience and weariness which we now
feel are the effects of that raortality which is
continually weighing us down. Our bodies
soon wear out and decay. This affects our souls,
and produces that satiety and disgust which
are apt to attend a long life. But hereafter
we shall be freed frora all the incurabrances
of flesh and blood, and shake off entirely all
that is raortal, and the consequence of this
must be, that we shall enjoy eternal health
and vigour, and never more feel languor or
fatigue. The soul, I have shewn (however affected
it may be in the exercise of its powers by the
vehicle to which it is united) is in itself inca-

319
pable of waste or decay. Such is the sim
plicity of its essence that it cannot wear out,
and such the dignity of its faculties that they
may always preserve their vigour. The hea
vens will wax old as doth a garment — the
elements will yield to the waste of time — and
the earth and all her works shaU be dissolved,
but our souls will reraain the same, and their
years shall never faU. — But this is not the
proper answer to the enquiries I have men
tioned. It may be admitted, that even in a
future state long use will have the sarae effect
on our rainds that it has now, and that the
principle of curiosity will be always prompting
us to seek new objects and scenes. This is a
principle essential to an intellectual nature ;
and therefore the just and full reply to those
enquiries is, that there is in the works and
perfections of God and in infinite truth, an
inexhaustible fund of employment for our
faculties. If the curiosity of a reasonable soul
is boundless, there is likewise a boundless
variety of objects to gratify it, and conse
quently there will never be any room for that
languor and weariness in an eternal existence
which these enquiries suppose.
I should now go on to explain this, and also

320
to explain a circumstance connected with it
ofthe utmost iraportance in our future exis
tence : I raean the circumstance, that it is
not only to be eternal, as explained in this
discourse, but also eternally improving. A
happiness that is to last through eternity is
properly an infinite happiness. But a happi
ness that is not only to last, but tobe continu
ally increasing through eternity is an infinitely
greater happiness. But this, together with the
practical iraprovement of the whole, I shall
beg leave to reserve for another discourse.

321

SERMON XVIL
ON THE ETERNAL, AND ETERNALLY-IMPROVING
HAPPINESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS IN A FUTURE
\ X STATE.

1 John ii. 25.

*' And this is ihe Promise that he hath pro*
mised, even Eternal Life."
WE are inforraed in these words, that God
has by the Christian revelation ^iven
us the proraise of an endless existenc^'here-
after in happiness. In my last discourse I
endeavoured to shew you the credibility of
this promise by a variety of arguments taken
from the perfections of God and the nature
of the huraan soul. These arguraents, joined
to the express declarations ofthe Scriptures,
appear to rae of so much weight as to leave
us but little reason for doubting on this sub-
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322
ject. There are however sorae difficulties
which will necessarily offer theraselves to us
when we consider seriously what eternity is.
It is in particular natural to enquire. Must
not an eternal existence sorae tirae or other
become tiresome? After raillions of ages
have been spent, shall we not find employ
ment wanting for our faculties, and the funds
of happiness exhausted ?
In answer to these enquiries, I observed at
the close of my last discourse, that there are
in the works and the perfections of God, and
in infinite truth, inexhaustible sources of em
ployment and happiness. I will now enlarge
a little upon this, and then proceed, agree
able to the plan I have laid, to take notice of
the particular circumstance in our future ex
istence, that it is to be for ever improving.
Let us in the first place think of the ex
tent of God's works. These are probably
boundless ; and all that our imaginations are
capable of conceiving must faU unspeakably
short of their real extent and magnificence.
The scenes of beings and bliss in the distant
worlds and systeras with which the starry hea
vens are fiUed, are more grand and more vari-

323
ous than we have powers to comprehend. Be*
yond the starry heavens new plans of existence,
and new exhibitions of alraighty wisdora may
take place, still more glorious and incompre
hensible ; nor may there be any limits to the
gradations and varieties of order, and beauty,
and excellence in the universe. Divine good
ness, one would think, could not have been an
eternity before it acted, and therefore the
creation raay have been existing frora eter
nity; and as divine goodness can never be
exhausted, the creation may go on existing
to eternity. Such reflections have a tendency
to carry our ideas of the universe very high ;
but we raay be sure that it is not possible for
us to carry thera high enough. In studying
the laws and constitution of this iraraense
universe — in scanningits wonders — acquaint
ing ourselves with its history, and in leaming
the scheme of eternal providence, we shall
have enough to employ us for ever. Indeed
any single district of the universe may be an
object sufficient to employ our faculties, and
to supply us with raaterials of happiness
through indefinite ages. We at present see
but little of the world, and of that little
we are raore ignorant than we can well ima
gine. Almost every thing within and every
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324
thing without us is a mystery to us. Were it
then even true, that in future duration we
shall be confined to those parts of God's
works which now lie nearest to us, we shall
have ample scope for employment. But all
that falls under our notice of God's works,
and even all that^our minds can feign to them
selves is, I have said, inconsiderable compared
with the whole of created existence, and
therefore nothing can be raore unreasonable
than the apprehension that we can ever arrive
at a future period in which there will be no
more to be known or enjoyed.
We are brought forth into a world where
we have room for expatiating without end.
A volume is laid before us in the system of
nature from which we raay be for ever de
riving instruction and entertainraent. If our
rainds adrait not of inactivity, but will be al
ways requiring new objects, there will be al
ways new objects for them, and new scenes to
afford them exercise. But let us next turn
jour thoughts to abstract truth, and the per
fections of the Deity, What I have just said
will be rauch raore evident when these are
considered. These are in every view of them
unfathomable, and present us with a prospect

325
of absolute infinity. In investigating eternal
truth, and contemplating the nature of the
Deity, and studying his incomprehensible es
sence, we shall be in a condition which I
know not how .to explain better than by cora
paring it to motion straight forwards in infi
nite space. Let such a motion be ever so
rapid, it will (after numberless ages) leave the
object that moves as far to raove as at; the
instant when it set out : so likewise reasonable
beings in the pursuit of knowledge, and wis
dora, and virtue, will be as it were always start
ing, ^ Infinity will always lie before thera, and
at the end of every possible future period of
duration they will have as rauch to learn and
to do as they had at the first raoraent of their
existence. The apprehension therefore which
I ara considering is raost evidently one ofthe
vainest prejudices arising frora the narrowest
views. It deserves to be particularly attended
to, that the boundless scope which Ihave said
our souls have for new acquisitions is the
sarae with boundless scope for new enjoy
raents. Every new region of the universe
which we can visit — every new order of beings
we can get acquainted with — every new con
nection into which we can enter, — every new
view we can acquire of the divine nature, and
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326
every new truth we can discover, will be new
sources of enjoyraent and happiness.
But this leads rae to take notice of the par
ticular circurastance in our future eternal exis
tence, that it is to be an existence eternaUy ira
proving. This follows naturally frora what I
have said. Every step in the progress I have
described will be an iraprovement in knowledge
and bliss. Such is the nature of an intelli
gent mind that it can never get to a point of
perfection beyond which it is incapable of
going. If it has room it will always iraprove ;
and it has been deraonstrated that it has in
deed infinite roora. No subject can be raore
pleasing than this, and I will beg leave to in
sist particularly upon it in all that reraains of
this discourse.
The iraproveableness of our natures is one
of their raost distinguishing properties, and it
is extremely agreeable to contemplate the gra
dual rise of huinan beings. At first they are
helpless infants, without any appearance of
rational and raoral powers, and were a perfect
stranger to the world to observe thera in these
circumstances, he could scarcely think it pos
sible that they should grow up to be such crea^^
4

327
tures as they afterwards become. From in
fancy they rise to childhood and youth, and
all the while their faculties insensibly open, —
their powers unfold theraselves, — they ac
quire experience and habits, and learn raany
useful and necessary accorapllshraents. From
childhood and youth they rise to manhood,
where their rational and moral powers dis
cover themselves in full vigour, and opportu
nities are given for constantly improving
thera till they are taken frora hence, and rise
to a higher and endless state of existence in
another world. But it raust not be imagined
that their iraproveraents will thus be at an
end, or that, after exchanging this earth for
heaven, a stop will be put to their acqui
sitions, and a period arrive when they will
have no additions of knowledge or virtue or
happiness to expect. The fact that the whole
of what we see of our existence is progressive,
affords a presumption that it will always con
tinue to be progressive. But indeed I have
shewn that it cannot be supposed to be other
wise without contradicting some of the strong-r
est reasons.
No liraits, I have observed, can be set to
the possible iraproveraents of intelligent
y4

328
beings. The different raodifications of which
matter is susceptible, and the different forras
under which it exists, are alraost numberless.
But spiritual essences must be capable of
existing under an infinitely greater nuraber of
forras. Our iramortal souls admit of an end
less variety of ideas and sensations, which are
now incoraprehensible to us ; they have raany
powers and faculties now dorraant, which will
hereafter shew themselves, and many sorts of
pleasure and bliss now concealed, which will
hereafter be opened. The principal causes of
enjoyraent and inlets of inforraation which we
have at present are our five senses. In another
state there is no reason to doubt but that we
shall acquire new senses ; and it cannot be
possible for us to iraagine what an advance
ment in knowledge and dignity the opening
of one new sense raay occasion. A person
born blind, upon having the faculty of sight
given hira, has a new world disclosed to hira.
Scenes and laws of nature before unknown
discover theraselves. Crowds of new ideas
and sensations burst in upon him, and he
finds hiraself at once raised higher in the
scale of being. Like this, probably, wUl be
the effects produced by every new sense which
we raay acquire hereafter, and the successive

329
opening of these new senses, and gradual
evolution of our powers raay furnish out busi
ness enough for eternity, and lay the founda
tion of an eternal progress in excellence and
happiness. But not to insist further on these observ
ations, let rae now desire you to think se
riously of the truth I ara endeavouring to
explain, and of its consequences and im
portance. The works of creation and the
capacities ofour minds are (you have heard)
boundless. The distance between the highest
created being and the Deity is^ infinite. We
have therefore (I have shewn you) infinite
scope for iraproveraent, and we are in fact to
be for ever iraproving. There is nothing to
stop our progress, nor is it possible that a
tirae should corae when our ascent in the
scale of being shall rest, and our existence
becorae absolutely stationary. There raust
be a future period when there will be a
greater difference between what we are at
present and what we shall be then, than
there is between the raeanest reptile and the
highest archangel. This cannot appear ex
travagant to those who will duly reflect that
by going on to improve, though ever so

330
slowly, through infinite ages, we must make
higher acquisitions, and reach greater degrees
of knowledge and dignity than any we can
now assign or imagine. What I am now
saying raay be applied to all the various orders
of virtuous beings in the universe. Thewhole
reasonable creation is continually iraproving
and brightening under the eye and care of
their Alraighty Parent. There are now ex
isting undoubtedly nuraberiess beings who
are the productions of divine power. Though
the tirae that has intervened since these re
ceived their existence should be allowed not
to be infinite, it raust at least be indefinite
There is an indefinite length of duration then
in which they have been iraproving, and
therefore raust before now have attained to
degrees of wisdora and perfection that are
indefinite. How high then are they ? How
vast the distance between thera and that
nothing of yesterday, — poor feeble and igno
rant raan? This whole incoraprehensible
distance is filled up with nuraberiess ranks of
beings rising above one another beyond the
utraost stretch of huinan conception. These
all continually iraproving. Those who are
now lowest, will in tirae get to the places of
the highest, while these in the raean time

331
will be getting still higher. This represent
ation cannot I think be wrong, and you will
probably be better reconciled to it by reflect
ing that to whatever pitch of perfection rea
sonable beings by constant iraproveraent raay
attain, they always raust be, and after the
further iraproveraents of nuraberiess ages to
corae, always will be, at an infinite distance
from original perfection ; and therefore equaUy
dependent upon, and equally inferior to the
self-existent Creator.
But to return to the consideration of our
own state and hopes. We find ourselves at
present in the lowest rank of reasonable crea
tures, but we are to ascend. This life is the
infancy of our beings, and if what I have said
is true, a tirae must corae when we shall see
angels belOw us. To be always growing
wiser and greater, — to be rising and im
proving for ever. — What a prospect is this?
How araazing, — how glorious? What shall we
sorae tirae or other be? According to every
notion pf a future state, we are now as inca
pable of forraing any notion of this as a child
in the worab is of forming any notion of the
employments and happiness of a grown man.
But take in the consideration that we are

332
always to be improving, and it will appear
that in no period of our existence shall we be
able to conceive what we shall be in the
periods beyond it, and that though always
enjoying unspeakable happiness, we shall
never know what happiness still greater we
shall enjoy.
The following reflections on what I have
said deserve your consideration.
1st. How incredible is it that beings who
are capable of such a progress as I have de
scribed, and can extend their views through
eternity in the manner I have represented,
how incredible, I say, is it that such beings
should be designed for no more than a short
existence here, and after just shewing them
selves, and being flattered with the idea of
iraraortality, should sink into utter oblivion,
and all perish in the first step of their pro
gress ?
2dly. We are naturally led on this occa
sion to acknowledge the wisdora of God. In
consequence of raaking our existence pro
gressive in the raanner I have explained, one
part of it is raade a preparation for another,

333
and we are not brought to any more enlarged
condition of being, before we have been qua
lified for it, and rendered capable of relishing
its enjoyments and advantages. Thus, we are
brought to manhood by being trained up to it
in childhood and youth, and then learning
those habits which are necessary to make us
capable of being happy in it. And in like
manner we are to be brought to the dignity
of a future life, after passing through the dis
cipline and trials of this life, and being forraed
by them to that virtuous temper and cha
racter which is the necessary foundation of
all honour and bliss under the divine
government. The like raust be true of
every successive dignity to which we shall
rise through the ages of eternity. One sphere
of action and enjoyraent will be an introduc
tion to that which next follows it, and every
honor lay the foundation of still further
honors. We are apt to be much too hasty
and abrupt in our proceedings. The mea
sures ofthe Deity have in thera no such ira
perfection. He does not waste his gifts by
bestowing thera on beings before they are
qualified for thera. He does not confer full
happiness iramediately, or raise his creatures
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334
they are not properly fitted. On the con
trary, we see that all in nature is progressive,
and that the happiness and perfection of rea
sonable beings in particular are made with
unspeakable wisdora to be the result of a.
gradual rise frora low beginnings ; or are the
consequence of improvements added to ira
proveraents, and of honors built upon honors,
without any end or liraitation.
3dly. The present subject sets before us,
in the strongest light, our own dignity. Were
we beings of a day who are designed only for
the scuffle of a few hours on this earthly
stage, and then to sink and vanish, never
more to be seen or heard of — Were this the
true account of our state, we could not think
very highly of ourselves. A prospect so
dreary and raelancholy raight well discourage
us, and break within us all the springs of
action and enjoyment. But our prospect is
greatly different. We have before us a
boundless existence, and it has appeared that
our souls are of infinite value. Let us then
reverence ourselves. Let us carry about with
us every where a sense of our high hopes,
and avoid all vice, as not only contrary to our
duty and interest, but as unworthy of us, — as

335
a prostituition of our noble powers, and a stain
on the dignity of our reasonable and im
mortal natures, A due attention to our own
importance and worth would indeed render
us incapable of doing any thing base or
wrong, and coraraunicate a constant elevation
to our whole behaviour.
Again, let us on this subject consider what
reason we have for adoring the goodness of
God in blessing us with existence. Had we
been designed only for existence in this life
without the possibility of any future life, we
should have had reason for gratitude. Had
we been designed for existence in this life,
and at the sarae tirae had the sraallest sense
been given us of a more happy existence after
death, we should have had still more reason
for gratitude. But to be blest with our pre
sent enjoyments, attended with the prospect
of a happy existence hereafter, which will be
always improving, — this is a benefit of ines
tiraable value, and cold as death raust our
hearts be, if we can avoid being kindled by
it into the raost ardent gratitude and praise.
Nothing can he so animating as the reflection
that we have before us such a prospect.
Nothing can be so glorious a proof of God's

S36
goodness as his intending us foft^ such an
existence, and raaking us partakers of his own
eternity. Further ; How rauch does it becorae us to
be superior to this world, and to withdraw our
affections frora it? Our present existence,
corapared with our whole duration and un
limited hopes, is so inconsiderable as scarcely
to deserve the narae of existence ; and it is of
no consequence what befals us in it, if we are
but ready for the state that is to follow it.
None of the riches and pleasures and honors
of life deserve a single wish from one who is
convinced that he is to rise from death here
after, and to live for ever. Nor (did we se
riously consider this) would it be possible
that all raortal things should not vanish frora
our sight. What nonsense are the conten
tions of children in the estimation of raen,
and how vain do their joys and sorrows ap
pear to thera. Just thus should we be af
fected towards all that passes here below,
were we sufficiently attentive to the subject
ofthis discourse. We should judge the noise
and cares and pursuits ofthe children of this
world to be all nonsense, and look down with
a mixture of pity and disdain on the scramble

337
among mankind for places and power again.
Through the course of endless ages, what
senses of joy may we expect to feel ? What
new scenes may we expect to see? What
glorious regions of the universe raay we ex
pect to visit? What attainments of know
ledge and virtue may we expect tp reach ?
Through what variety of untried beings may
we expect to pass? What honors may we
expect to be crowned with ? Let us, fellow-
christians, open our hearts to these views.
Let them inspire us with fortitude and
triumph. Let them Iposen us from the
earth, and give wings to our minds. Our
present blessings are but the foretaste of
nobler future blessings, and the present life
no more than the dawn of a day that shall
last for ever, and be for ever growing raore
and more bright and glorious. Oh trans
porting thought, — what a dignity of spirit
becomes us ? How little and insignificant are
all teraporal objects? What are those men
who forget and disgrace this their high des
tination by sensuality and worldly wicked
ness, who look to annihilation as their refuge,
and though made to soar with angels, and to
live through eternity, yet chuse to grovel in
the dirt, and to revel in the midst of it ? It
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338
is impossible to express the abject condition
of such persons. They are unworthy of the
rank they hold in the world, betrayers ofthe in
terests of humanity, and traitors to the species.
But I am led from hence to desire you
in the last place to think how dreadful it
will be to corae short of the happiness I have
been describing. I scarcely need tell you
that there is danger of this, — God's good
ness in giving us ourselves is unspeakable ;
but it is a gift which raay be lost. Our Lord
has very plainly intiraated this to us in
Luke ix, 28, " What is a raan profited if he
gain the whole world and lose himself, or be
cast away?" All are not to enjoy a happy
imraortality. It is reserved only for the vir
tuous, the pious, and worthy. I took par
ticular notice of this in my former discourse.
The righteous and the wicked are to rise
from death hereafter through the power of
Christ. But the language of Scripture is,
that the one are to rise to die a second tirae ;
and the other to die no raore. Our Lord tells
us, that "all that are in their graves shall here
after hear the voice ofthe Son of God, and shall
corae forth, they that have done good to the re
surrection of life, and they that have done evU to

339
the resurrection of daranation." This is the
awful distinction that according to the scripture
account is to be made between them. Both
possessed of the sarae noble powers and ca
pacities ; but like a plant crushed in the seed
the '(vicked are to be iPst and undone. No
thing can well set the evil of sin in a stronger
light than this. What ruins an immortal
nature, — What blasts an existence that would
otherwise have been eternally improving, and
thus deprives it of infinite happiness, may
indeed with the strictest propriety be said to
be an infinite evil. Let us with the utmost
earnestness avoid this evil. Had we a proper
sense of our own interest in this instance, it
would never be possible for us to consent to
any wrong action. The bare possibility of
such danger attending wickedness would be
sufficient to guard us against it. Every
temptation would lose its force, and every
irregular pleasure its allurement. All our
thoughts, cares, and wishes would be swal
lowed up in the one great concern about
saving our souls and providing for another
world. To purchase a few transient gratifica
tions at the risque of losing ourselves. To
yield to a vile passion at the hazard of being
lost for ever. To give up, for the tinsel of
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340
time, ever increasing dignity and happiness.
— May heaven preserve you and me from a
foUy so frightful !
We are apt to be too much impressed by
present events, and too much taken up with
our worldly concerns. Eternity has but little
of that influence on the best of us which it
ought to have. Let us by close and frequent
reflection on its nature and weight, endeavour
to bring ourselves more under its influence.
Let us think continually that we have but little
tirae to continue here, and that our ever
lasting life or death are depending on what
we now do. Let us sacrifice every thing to
a good conscience, having our conversation
always in heaven, and shewing to all about
us rainds full of the best affections, elevated
above this world, and warmed with an ambi
tion becoraing the views of the heirs of
eternity. But it is high tirae to conclude. May
God enable us to enter properly into the
sense and weight of the declaration in ray
text, — "This is the proraise which he has
proraised through Christ, even eternal life."

341

SERMON XVIIL

ON THE DUTY OF GIVING GLORY TO GOD.

1 CoR. X. 31.
Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoevei-
ye do, do all to the Glory of God.
THE words that precede and follow these
contain an exhortation to the Corinthians,
to avoid giving offence to such of their fellow-
christians as scrupled eating meat that had
been offered to idols. These Christians were
probably sorae Jewish converts who had been
trained up in such a horror at idolatry as to
think it a crirae ever to taste any kind of meat
that had entered a temple, or been used for
the purposes of idolatry.
The advice which St. Paul gives on this
occasion to such of the Gentile converts as
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342
felt no scruples of this kind seems very just
and proper. He intiraates, that however in
nocent in itself such a conduct was, yet it be
came criminal whenever it was the means of
hurting any weak minds, by shocking their
prejudices too much, " All things, says he,
are lawful to me, but all things are not expe
dient. All things are lawful to me, but all
things edify noi. Let no man seek his own,
but every one another's good. Whatever is sold
in the shambles, that eat, asking no questions for
conscience sake. But if any man say unto you,
this is offered in sacriflce to idols, eat not for his
sake that shewed it, and for conscience sake.
Conscience, I say, npt thine own, but thy bro
ther's. Give none offence, neither to the Jews
nor to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God.
And whether ye eat or drink, or whatever ye do,
do all to the glory of God:" that is, act always
in a manner that shall be most likely to give
glory to God, by shewing a tender regard to
the scruples of your Christian brethren, and
avoiding every practice that has a tendency to
mislead thera and to prejudice the interest of
religious virtue.
My present design is to take occasion frora
these words to explain the duty of giving

343
glory to God, and to endeavour to enforce it
by representing the reasons for it, andthe ob
ligations to it.
Let us 1st, consider what in this case we
ought to mean by the glory of God. This is
a phrase that has been sadly misunderstood
and misapplied. Some good men have con
sidered it as meaning chiefly that absolute
sovereignty of the Deity by which he is su
preme over the universe, and does whatever
he pleases with his creatures. There is a sys
tem of faith which asserts that the end of our
creation was to glorify God, and at the sarae
time teaches us that he has fore-ordained
whatever comes to pass, electing a few of man
kind to everlasting happiness, while the greatr
est part are abandoned to unavoidable and
eternal misery. This creed adds, that God
does this frora his own good pleasure, and for
the advanceraent of his own glory. In con
forraity with such representations it has been
too common araong Christians to think that
the glory of God requires thera to persecute
their brethren, to burn heretics, to consign to
damnation those who receive not their code
of faith, and even to question whether they
ought not to consent to suffer damnation
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344
themselves, should this be supposed to be con
ducive to God'sglory. Under a conviction of
the pernicious tendency of such sentiments.,
and as a preservative from them, let us
now set ourselves to consider what is pro
perly signified by God's glory, and what
are the proper means by which it is to be
promoted. You should here recollect, that there is a
twofold glory of the Deity, — one inherent
in him and essential to hira, — and the other
relative, or dependent on the state of his crea
tion and the conduct of his creatures. The
forraer signifies that absolute perfection of na
ture by which God is in hiraself necessarily
and eternally all that is great, wise, and good.
His glory in this sense of it cannot possibly
either be increased or diminished. The duty
therefore of giving glory to hira cannot iraply
that we are capable of making the least addi
tion to his glory thus understood. To imagine
this, or to suppose that his innate glory and
dignity, as possessed of every possible perfec
tion, are capable of being affected by any
thing that any being can do, would be an ab
surdity and blasphemy of the wildest sort.
This however cannot be said of his glory in the

345
other sense of it. His relative gloiy (that is,
his glory as the governor and lawgiver of in
telligent beings) is capable of being affected
by their conduct. It is easy to see that this
is true. The glory of a king, considered not
in himself, but in his relation to his subjects,
¦consists in the order and happiness which
prevail among thera, — in their respect for
his character, their attachraent to his au
thority, and obedience to the laws by which
he governs thera. As far as his subjects think
meanly of him ; as far as they are rebellious or
disaffected, and anarchy and misery prevail
among thera, so far he is dishonoured, and his
governraent wants its proper glory. This is
justly applicable to the relation in which the
Deity stands to the world. He does not go
vern reasonable beings by any wicked laws or
compulsory methods. This would make their
obedience of no value, and take away from
the creation all kinds of moral merit and dig
nity. Their obedience raust be left to be a
free-will offering ; this being the only service
that can be acceptable to him, or do him any
real honour. When therefore this is with
drawn, and his reasonable creatures break his
laws, and introduce disorder and misery into
the world, they dishonour him, by striking at

346
the majesty of his government, and defacing
his works. In short, it is theri we give to
God the glory due to him, when we pay him
the homage which his perfections deraand,
when our souls are possessed with the deepest
reverence for hira, when we love hira above
all things, and submit chearfuUy to his au
thority, — when we do his will, and answer
the purpose for which he has created us, ¦ —
when we are his pious, grateful, and lowly
subjects, and do all we can to enlighten and
reform mankind, and to promote the order,
and harraony, and felicity of the world. Such
is the general account of this duty. But it
may be proper to repeat some of those heads,
and to give a more distinct recital of the
several particulars in which the duty of glo
rifying God consists.
1st. In order to glorify God, it is necessary
that we should entertain worthy and honor
able apprehensions of him. Those who think
of hira as such a one as theraselves, who
ascribe to hira huraan passions and weak
nesses, and represent hira as arbitrary, partial,
and raalevolent, offer him the worst injury.
They vilify his character, and fall miserably
short of the duty they owe him. Nothing i:s

847
of more importance than that we should re
move from our ideas of him every thing that
is low and gross, or that iraplies any kind of
imperfection. We should learn to consider
Him as a being in whom is met, as in its
source and centre, whatever can be the object
of veneration, affection, and esteera. At
the same time that we stand in awe of Him as
the greatest, we should look to Him as the
best and most amiable of all beings.
Sdly. These sentiments should be ex
pressed by suitable acts, and particularly by
the discharge of all the duties of private wor
ship. He who never directs his thoughts to
Him in the way of praise and adoration,
neglects a raost iraportant obligation, and
practically denies his existence. Our inward
reverence for Hira should discover itself by
an uniforra course of unaffected and ardent
devotion. As we should never think of Him
without humble and deep veneration, so we
should never speak of Him, rauch less should
we ever pray to Hira without a guard on our
attention, and an awe upon our rainds. How
inconsistent then with the duty I ara ex
plaining is the comraon custom of using His
name lightly on every trifling occasion?

348
This, in the raanner it is sometimes done, is
indeed a horrible practice. For what can be
more so, than to invoke Hira in order to gain
credit to falsehood, or to use his narae in
order to give a stronger vent to our passions
in profane oaths and curses? How licentious
and irapious must the men be who can be
capable of this? It has been told of a great
philosopher*, that he had his raind so im
pressed by a sense of the awful greatness of
the Deity, that he never mentioned His name
-without a pause in his discourse. This had
in it perhaps too much of the appearance of
affectation. But a reverent caution in think
ing or speaking of the Deity, preventing all
the loose talk and profane exclaraations which
we are often hearing, will be found in every
person who attends properly to the sacredness
of his nature and character.
Again, we glorify God when we pay a just
regard to all his institutions. I have here in
view the observation of the Lord's day, and
the positive duties of Christianity. To honor
God, we should remember, is to honor his
will and ordinances. But above all things
avoiding sin, and the practice of virtue area
* Boyle.

349
necessary means of honoring God, Herein;
says our Saviour, is my Father glorifled, that
ye bear much fruit. The Philippians, St. Paul
tells u^, were filled with the fruits of righteous
ness, which are by Chrisf unto the praise and
glory of God, (Philip, i, 1 1.)
Sin is the subversion of order in his
creation, and therefore is the enemy that
robs hira of his glory, and if we would pro
mote it, we must give no countenance to this
enemy. We must flee from every appear
ance of evil, and conform ourselves to those
laws of everlasting righteousness and truth,
on which depend the harmony and happi
ness of the universe. This is the way to shew
ourselves his dutiful subjects, and most truly
and acceptably to do him honor.
It is proper to add, that we raust endeavour
to lead others to glorify him. It is needless
to tell you how much this is in our power.
God has unspeakably distinguished us by
making us capable of this, and of concurring
with him in carrying on his ends, and in
i^rengthening the interest of virtue among our
fellow-creatures. He has made us capable of
this in various ways, and more especially by

350
our examples and instructions. By ex-»
hibiting an example of manly piety, strict
justice, universal benevolence, unfeigned hu
mility, and inflexible integrity, we raay dis
play the excellence of religious virtue, and
win raankind to the adrairation of it. Such
exaraples when united to suitable adraoni
tions and zealous exertions in doing all pos
sible good raust be irresistible in their opera
tion, and diffuse a lustre around us that will
enlighten and animate all within our influ
ence. Recollect here our Lord's injunction
to his followers, that they would make their
light so to shine before men, that others seeing
their good works might be led to glorify their
heavenly Father, (Mathew, v. 16.) The best
season for glorifying God in this way is in a
time of general corruption and degeneracy.
Then, when vice and profaneness triumph,
and the paths of virtue are forsaken, to stand
up for the interest of truth and virtue, — to
bear our testiraony against prevailing iniquity,
and to resolve to suffer, or even to die, rather
than yield to difficulties in a virtuous course,
and desert our duty. — Such conduct, I say, in
such circurastances, is the noblest which
huraan nature is capable of, and the most
honorable to God. Thus died Socrates in

351
the heathen world. Thus acted the apostles
and martyrs under Christianity, and many
good men in modem ages, who have immor
talized their names, and by their instructions
and exertions brought on the present en
lightened times. But above aU, thus acted
our Lord Jesus Christ, a name that is above
every name, the best of all teachers, who by
sacrificing himself on the Cross, did raore
than any other messenger from heaven to
glorify God.
Another instance mentioned in the Scrip
tures of giving glory to God is the exercise
of gratitude to him. Whoso offereth praise,
the Psalmist says, glorifies God. (Psahn 1. 23.)
When of the ten lepers who were cleansed by
our Saviour, only one (and he a Saraaritan)
returned to thank him, his language was that
they had all, save fhat stranger, neglected to
give glory to God, (Luke xvii. 18.)
That vanity and self-sufficiency which pro
duce ingratitude are inconsistent with the
conviction which ought always to possess us,
that it is God that makes us to differ, and
that it is to his bounty we owe all we are, and
all we enjoy. It was for this wretched vanity
that Herod was punished in the manner re-

352
lated in th^ book of Acts (xii. 23.) On a set
day he mounted his throne, and arrayed in
royal apparel, raade an oration to the people,
who on hearing hira, gave a shout and cried
It is the voice of a God, and not of man. Im
mediately after this shout, the history tells us,
that he was smitten by an angel, (that is by an
invisible messenger of divine vengeance,) so
that he was eaten of worms, and gave up the
ghost hecause he gave not God the glory. This
is a raost striking fact, and it is reraarkably
confirraed by the Jewish historian Josephus,
who tells us, that the disteraper with which
Herod was struck, (while thus blaspheraously
applauded) was a distemper attended with
racking pains in his bowels, of which he soon
expired in violent agonies. "^
Further; confidence in the Deity, and a
reliance on his proraises, and faithfulness are
mentioned in the Scriptures as instances of
glorifying God. Thus we read in Rom. iv.20,
that " Abrahara staggered not at the promise
of Gpd, but was strong in faith, giving glory
to God." Honoring Christ also is mentioned
in the same manner. So the apostle tells the
PhUippians, "that God hath highly exalted
Christ, and given hira a narae above every
name, that at the name of Jesus every knee

353
should bow, of things in heaven and things on
earth, and things under the earth, and that
every tongue should confess that he is Lord
to the glory of God the Father." (Phil. ii. 20.)
We must therefore remeraber that all the
honor we pay to Christ, ought to be given as
an instance of the glory we ought to give to
that Suprerae Being who is the fountain of all
jurisdiction in the universe, and no less Christ's
God and Father than he is our God and
Father. To say no raore on this head. We glorify
God when, in all the gratitude we owe to in
ferior beings, and all the obedience we owe to
their authority, we carry our views ultimately
to Him, compared with whom there is no
being great or good: when we comrait our
selves to his care, and rely iraplicitly on his
benignity : — when we are sensible ofour dig
nity as the Children of his family, and the sub
jects of his moral government, and avoid
every thing that has a tendency to stain this
dignity, and to dishonour these relations :
when we make the light of our good works
so to shine before men, as to induce them to
imitate us : when we study to promote
peace on earth, and good-will among our
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354
fellow-creatures, — to serve the interest of
true religion, — to make all about us cha
ritable and virtuous, and thus to add to the
happiness of God's creation, and increase the
beauty of his works. Such is the duty which
I am explaining : let us now in the next place
attend to sorae of the motives to it.
1st. Let us consider the sublimity of the
end at which it requires us to aim. The glory
of God as it has now been explained, is the
highest of all ends. It is the end at which
the arabition of superior beings is directed,
and which even God hiraself pursues, A re
gard to his own glory in the raaintenance of
truth and right, — in doing what is wisest and
best, and in producftig the happiness and pro
moting the order of his works, is the principle
which governs his universal administration.
Is it possible that we should not be anxious
about directing our arabition to an end so
exceUent, or can we set ourselves in opposi
tion to it, make ourselves hindrances to the
harmony of nature, and chuse (as far as we
can) to bring dishonour upon its parent and
governor ?
Sdly. Another motive to this duty may be

355
taken from the consideration of the obligations
we are under to the Deity, and of the right
he has to our best services, 'as the author and
the ovmer of our beings. This is St. Paul's
argument in a passage parallel to that from
which I have taken my text. Ye are bought
witli- a price. Therefore glqrify God with your
bodies and your spirits which are his. We are
his by creation. He endued us with those
powers by which we are capable of glorifying
him, " We are his by redemption. He has
bought us (as St. Peter says) with no less a
price than that of the precious blood of Christ,
who was fore-ordained before the foundation
of the world, but manifested in these last
times for us, who by him believe in God who
raised him from the dead, and gave him glory."
We are his also by the in-dwelling of his
grace and spirit. Christians are for this
reason styled by St. Paul the temple of God.
This title was peculiarly applicable to the
first Christians on account of the miraculous
gifts of the Spirit with which they were en
dued. But we have no reason to think that it may
not in a lower sense be justly applied to sin
cere Christians and good men in all ages.
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356
Know ye not (says St, Paul) that you are fhe
temples of God, and that the Spirif of God
dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple
of God, him shall God destroy, for the temple of
God is holy, which temple ye are. (1 Cor, iii.
16, &c.) We cannot view ourselves in a
more iraportant and honourable light than
this, or as teraples of the ever-blessed God,
where all should be pure and sacred, where
the incense of praise and adoration should be
continually rising, and into which nothing
should be adraitted that is not worthy of the
in-dwelling Divinity.
He is entitled, I have just said, to our best
services. But how are we to serve him ? The
whole combined world can make no addition
to his innate dignity. There is however a
way in which we can serve him. I have, in
this discourse, been pointing out this way to
you. He has a cause in the world. This
cause is the cause of liberty and justice, — the
cause of peace and virtue, and by serving this
cause we serve Him. His glory, (I have
observed), as the ruler of free agents, con
sists in their veneration and love, — their
contentment under His government, — their
imitation of Him, and obedience to His laws.

357
This glory of his He has made to depend
on our exertions, and thus given us the
power of doing Him honor, and of serving
Him by serving and benefiting our fellow-
creatures. Again let me here recall to your reraera
brance the illustrious exaraple which I have
before-raentioned to you, Jesus Christ, the
founder of our religion, has been the raeans
of contributing in the highest degree to the
glory of God, A zeal for this was the prin
ciple which actuated him in his humiliation
and sufferings. So ardent was he in pursuing
this end, that he could at the close t)f his
ministry appeal to his Father, and say, Ihave
glorified thee on earth. I have finished the
work which thou gavest me to do ; and now, 0
Father, glorify thou me with the glory which I
had with thee before the world was. (John
xvii. 4.) Shall we not be ambitious to copy
so bright a pattern ? It is indeed but little
we can do, corapared with what He did ; for
He perforraed a service under God's govern
ment, to which we can conceive no parallel,
and myriads of happy men will hereafter
unite in celebrating his praises. But though
the services of which we are capable cannot
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358
bear a coraparison with His, yet the same
mind raay be in us that was in Hira ; and
for our encourageraent we should consider
that if we labour as He laboured, and do all
we can (however little that raay be) to pro
raote virtue and happiness, we shall be made
partakers of His reward.
But this leads me to direct you, in the last
place, to recollect that those who glorify God
by the conduct I have described. He will
glorify. They are the choicest parts of His
creation, and He will distinguish thera as His
favourites. No instance of their dutiful al
legiance to His governraent, and zeal for His
service will fail of a recompence. Every
accession of glory to Him will be an acces
sion of glory to theraselves. Those virtuous
men (now perhaps abused and ridiculed) who
contribute in the smallest degree to enlighten
mankind, and to make the world happier,
will, at the future period of universal retribu
tion, have their naraes confessed and honour
ed, and they will be taken to those habit
ations of the just where they shall shine as
the stats for ever and ever. Have you any
arabition to obtain this happiness? Then
coraply with the precept in my text, and

359
whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do,
study to do all to the glory of God, Having
now explained this duty, and proposed the
motives to it, let us, before we drop our at
tention to it, take occasion to represent to
ourselves the grandeur of the creation. How
delightful is the reflection on an iraraense
universe, the production of infinite power,
and the seal of order and bliss, in which
nuraberiess ranks of beings are always re
joicing in the raunificence of their Maker,
and shewing forth His glory, which from a
past eternity has been brightening and im
proving, and wiU continue to do so through
a future eternity !
The state of the creation is without doubt
glorious beyond all that we can conceive.
But it is made so particularly by the volun
tary agency of the beings with which it is
replenished. The most transporting of all
the privileges of our natures is our capacity
of making this an object of our exertions.
Let us labour to act suitable to so high a dis
tinction in making the world happier, and in
promoting its order and beauty. We know
this to be in our power. . We see the state
ofthe inhabitants of this earth to be such as
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360
gives us opportunities for it. Among man
kind there is much evil. God's laws are
broken. His goodness is abused, and his
authority is insulted. This is a state of
things which, as far as it takes place, dimi
nishes the order and beauty of the creation,
and most probably it has been perraitted by
the creator on purpose to afford us roora for
displaying our zeal and His glory. Let our
hearts burn with this zeal, but at the same
time let us take care to inforra ourselves well
with respect to the proper raanner of ex
pressing it, that v;e raay avoid a zeal which
defeats it own end ; a blind zeal which de
lights in raischief, and under the pretence of
promoting God's glory, disparages and vilifies
it. Our Saviour has alluded to a zeal of this
kind, by saying that the " time was coming
when they who killed his disciples would
think they did God service," There have
been in all ages multitudes of such ignorant
and wretched zealots. There are multitudes
now who, like the persecutors our Lord had
in view, think of doing God service by laying
restraints on free enquiry, by destroying schis-
maticks, and silencing and crushing all who
cannot believe and worship as they do. Let
us avoid this pemicious mistake, and never

361
think of any such absurdity as doing God
service by hurting his creatures. On the con
trary, let us study to glorify Hira by pro
moting peace on earth, and good-will among
men ; particularly by endeavouring to propa
gate a conviction of the following truth, ¦ — a
truth which I have often repeated, but cannot
repeat too often, and which, could a due con
viction of it be worked into every mind,
would make an end of uncharitableness, and
cause all raankind to respect one another
amidst all their religious differences : I raean
the truth, " that nothing is essential but an
honest heart, nothing important but a sincere
desire to know and to practise the wiU of
God," Happy are those who, possessing affluence
and power, esteem them no further valuable
than as they are the raeans of enabling thera
thus to glorify God. Happy raore especially
are those whose office being to teach others,
are faithful and diligent in their endeavours to
instil into the minds of men principles of
candour and benevolence, — to spread the
knowledge and fear of God, and to enlarge
His kingdom of righteousness in the world.
Happy are all who, in their several situations,

362
and according to their several abilities endea
vour to cause the narae of God to be hallowed,
and his will to be done on earth as it is done
in heaven, God loves thera, and that holy
state will soon receive thera, where, in the
possession of coraplete happiness, they shall
be for ever seeing and displaying his glory.

263

SERMON XIX.
ON THE DUTY OF IMITATING GOD.

Matthew v. 48.
" Be ye therefore perfect as your Father who is
in Heaven is perfect."
/^UR Saviour in the words preceding these
^^ exhorts his followers to cultivate love to
all men, not even excepting their enemies
and persecutors, " You have heard that it
has been said, thou shalt love thy neighbour and
hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, love
your enemies ; bless them that curse you, do good
to them that hate you, and pray for them fhat
despitefully use you and persecute you : (v, 43.)
The Jews (it should be recollected) were a
body of the most narrow and vindictive men
that ever existed. They had no idea of their

364
obligation to universal benevolence and can
dour. Our Saviour here, in opposition to
this dreadful error, exhorts his disciples not to
suffer their benevolence to be restrained by
any of the distinctions that take place araong
mankind, not even by that between friends
and enemies, and good and bad men. In
order to engage thera to this, he sets before
them the character of the ever-blessed Deity,
of that self-existent parent and governor of
nature who is good to all. " Love your ene
mies. Do good to them who hate you, fhat
you may be the children of your heavenly Fa
ther, for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil
and on the good, and sendeth rain on the Just
and the unjust. For if ye love them that love
you, what reward have you ? Do not even fhe
publicans the same ?' And if you embrace your
brethren only, what do you more than others ?
Do not even the publicans so ?
This is a very striking passage. The con
cluding words of it are those of my text, " Be
ye therefore perfect even as your Father who is
in heaven is perfect."
The word perfect here does not signify ab
solute perfection, but such a degree of good-

365
ness as, in the particular instance of benevo
lence, is necessary to complete a character, by
making it entirely virtuous and worthy. The
meaning therefore of this admonition may be
thus expressed. " Pray for all men. Do good
to all men. Love all raen ; for there is nothing
meritorious in loving those who love you, or
in embracing persons of the sarae sect, or
religion, or nation with yourselves. This even
the worst of men do. But do you aim at
higher goodness, and strive to iraitate the
Deity, and to be in this instance, as far as
you can, perfect as he is perfect,"
My present design is to take occasion from
these words to discourse to you on the duty
of imitating God. In doing this, the best
method I can take is, 1st, to explain the duty ;
and 2dly, to enforce it by^ setting before you
the motives to it. Let us 1st, consider what
it is to imitate God. It is plain that in some
respects no created beings are capable of re
serabling Hira, This is true of his self-exis
tence, of the infinity of his attributes, and of
that necessity by which he possesses an abso
lute perfection of nature and character. His
attributes are divided into two sorts ; his natu
ral attributes, or those which He possesses by

366
a natural necessity ; such as his independence,
his oranipresence, and omniscience. And
his moral attributes are those which depend
on the, rectitude of his will; such as his jus
tice, faithfulness, and goodness. It is the
latter only of these attributes that we are
capable of imitating; that is, it is only in the
exercise of his power and the direction of his
will that we can be like him. And how is
his will directed ? What are the ends which
eraploy his power, and the rules by which he
is deterrained in all his operations ? Answer
these questions to yourselves, and you will
see what it is to iraitate Him. His will is
always directed to truth and reason. The
end which employs his power is the happiness
of the creation. The rules by which he
acts are the eternal rules of equity, justice,
and goodness. We iraitate Hira then, when
our wills are likewise directed by truth and
reason, when the happiness of the world is
the end which eraploys our power, and our
actions are deterrained by equity and good
ness. Such is the general and brief account
ofthis duty; but it will be proper to be a little
more distinct.
1st, We imitate the Deity (I have said,)
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367
when, like his, our wiUs are directed by truth
and righteousness. This is in reality the
whole of this duty, for all the particular vir
tues in which it consists are included in the
conformity of our wUls to the obligations of
righteousness. It is this that in the properest
and strictest sense makes us holy as God is
holy, and perfect as He is perfect. We raust
indeed in this respect fall infinitely short. His
perfect nature is such as does not admit of the
possibility of any error in his judgment of
what is right, or of a temptation to deviate
frora it. He perceives the whole law of truth
in all its appearances and excellence. He
has no biasses in Hira that are inconsistent
with it, and therefore every measure of his
government, every counsel of his providence,
and every display of his oranipotence is con
formable to it. In other words (and to speak
less iraproperly on a subject which does not
admit of, language entirely proper) he is him
self this eternal law. Truth and right are
iraplied in his necessary intelligence. They
are his nature, and therefore the conforraity
of his actions to thera is much the sarae with
his being hiraself Nothing like this is true
of us. We are liable to be deceived by
wrong views of what is right, and to be mis-

368
led by nuraberiess teraptations. But though
a perfection of will of the same kind with
his be unattainable by us, yet the principle
that guides our wills raay be the sarae, and
as far as this principle is a regard to truth
and right, it is the sarae ; and the more fixed
and efficacious this regard is, the more we
know of truth and right, and see of their im
portance and feel of their influence, so much
the raore our minds have of a common prin
ciple with the Deity, and participate of that
moral excellence which is his glory,
2dly, I must observe particularly that we
imitate God, when we cherish in our minds
an ardent and extensive benevolence, and
strive to do all the good in our power. I
have already observed that this is what our
Lord had imraediately in view when He
delivered the precept in ray text. It is to
this that rectitude principally carries us; and
goodness is the most iraportant and araiable
of all the raoral perfections of the Deity. It
is to this that the universe owes its existence,
and that all beings owe their preservation and
support. Frora hence is derived whatever
there is of order and beauty and happiness
in the creation. The tender mercies of God

369
are over all his works. He openeth his harid
and satisfieth the desires of every living crea
ture. Froni eternal ages He has been dis
tributing^ through numberless worlds, the ef
fects of his benevolence, and in this distribu
tion wUl his almighty power be employed
through an eternity of future ages* We find
ourselves among the objects of it. He has
made us on purpose to feel his love, to be
witnesses of his inexhaustible bounty, and
under its influence and care to improve and
rise for ever. This is a goodness' iraraense^
perfect, and unspeakable. Let us reraember
that we are capable in sorae raeasure of re
sembling it, — by studying to add to the hap
piness of all about us, — by cultivating in our
selves a charitable teraper, and being, ready to
assist our fellow-creatures as far as our ability
reaches ; and when our ability does not
reach, by giving scope to our kind wishes,
and grasping within our benevPlent affections
the whole world, and rejoicing in every de
gree of felicity we see, and particularly in
that everlasting and all-governing Providence,
which is the source, the foundation, andthe
security of universal happiness. In this way
and by these raeans we have it in our power
to be imitators of God, and to co-operate with
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370
Him, There is, in truth no brighter iraage
of^ehe Deity here below than a man possessed
of^^eighl and power who acts ;thus, — who
employs his power to increase thathappiniess
which is the end of God^s administration, —
to protect merit, -— relieve misery,' and 'to
spread through the earth, as far as he can,
peace, candour, knowledge, and liberty. Such
persons ai^e little deities among mankind.
We see displayed in their conduct and cha
racter the excellence and glory of the Su-
jprerae Deity,
Another attribute of God proper to be
mentioned is his placabUity. To this St.
Paul has referred in his epistle to the Ephe
sians, (chap. V. L) Be ye kind to one another,
and forgive one another, as God through Christ
hasfargiben you. Be ye therefore followers of
God, as dear children. The pacific character
of the Deity has been exhibited to us in the
gospel in the strongest lights He is there
represented as publishing an act of grace to
sinful raen, and sending His only begotten
Son into the worlds to assure thera of favour
upon theiriepentance, and to restore thera to
glory and iraraortality. Our Lord has told
us repeatedly that our own acceptance by the

371
Deity depends on bur iraitation of Hira in
this instance. His language to us is. Forgive
one another, that your heavenly Father may also
forgive you ; for if ye forgive not, neither shall
ye be forgiven. In the parable of the unraer
ciful servant, at the sarae tirae that God is
represented as ready to pardon our greatest
offences. He is described as punishing those
who do not imitate Hira in this, with a seve
rity like to that with which the unmerciful
servant was punished, who, though his master
had forgiven him ten thousand talents, would
not forgive his fellow-servant a hundred pence.
Forbearance, therefore, gentleness, and pla
cability, are necessary expressions of our
imitation ofthe Deity.
I might go on to mention many other par
ticular virtues, but there is no occasion for
this. They are all included in that general
principle which I have mentioned,! and the
sum of all is, that the image of God in men
shews itself in their maintaining an invariable
regard to truth and right, in their aversion to
moral turpitude and love of all virtue, in the
holiness of their lives and teiripers, in their
benevolence, usefulness, mercifulness, faithful
ness, purity, and integrity. B B 2

372
Let us next consider the motives which in^
duce us to endeavour to resemble the Deity
in the manner I have described. These mo
tives are the strongest that can be conceived ;
for in the iraitation of God consist our duty,
our dignity, and our happiness. Let us first
think how much it is our duty. We shall be
sensible of this when we have considered how
strongly we are led to it by the reasons of
things, by the relations in which we sfand to
the Deity, and by the obedience and gratitude
we owe to Him.
Is there any thing so reasonable as that the
sarae raoral distinctions which are a rule to
the Deity, should be a rule likewise to us ? Is
there any thing so fit as that the equity and
benignity which deterraine his choice, should
alsp deterraine our choice? Does it not
imply a shocking perverseness of charac
ter to counteract and oppose the Sovereign
pf Nature, by refusing to have that law for
our guide which is His guide ? Does he em
ploy his infinite power in producing universal
happiness, and shall we eraploy Pur scanty
power in defeating his intentions ? Does his
benevolence embrace and exhilarate the whble
world, and extend even to the evil and un-

373
thankful, and shall our benevolence be con
fined to the little circle of a few favourites
and friends, or persons of the same country
with us ? Is he placable, merciful and faith
ful, and shall we be revengeful, cruel, and
faithless ? Shall not children imitate what
they see excellent in their parents, and does
not every parent require this from his
children ? We are the children of God, and
as such we are bound to direct our attention
to Him in our conduct, and to assimilate our
selves to Him as far as possible. We have
derived our existence from Him. We are in
debted to Him for all our past blessings, for
every present enjoy^ment, and for the raost
transporting future hopes, and as far as we
possess any sense of gratitude or feeling of
ingenuity, we must be anxious about doing
Him all the honor, and making all the re
turns we can ; and the highest honor we can
do, is to endeavour to act as He acts. The
best return we can raake Hira is, by forgiving
others as He forgives us, and being goodto
others as He is good to us His enduing us
with powers, by whicii we discern raoral
obligations, plainly signifies to us the impos
sibUity of pleasing Him without conforming
to those obligations ; for certainly He would
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374
not have given us the knowledge of thera if
He had not intended they should guide us as
they guide Him. He must approve and
comraend that righteousness which He hira
self practises. It raust be His will that His
children should raanifest their affection and
veneration by raaking His character the raodel
of their own. It is thus only they can shew
theraselves His dutiful children, and give the
glory due to His narae.
I have before mentioned, that in speaking
on this subject there is a necessity of using
language concerning the Deity which is not
strictly just. The idea of moral obligation is
by no means applicable to Hira in the sarae
sense and raanner that it is applicable to in
ferior beings, nor can it with propriety be
said ofthe Splf-existent Being that the eternal
laws of righteousness are laws to Hira as they
are to inferior beings ; these iraplying sorae
thing eternal and necessary, by which He is
governed, and which at the sarae tirae is dis
tinct frora, and independent of Hira. Such
language, however, though wrong when un
derstood literally and strictly, is right inthe
general sentiment which it is intended to
express, and any misconception to which it

375
may lead us will be guarded against, if we
take care to remeraber that the laws pf truth
and righteousness (by which it is folly to say
that God is directed) are in reality, as I h^Ve
already observed, himself, and that our discern
ment of them is nothing 1 but a partial qoto,-
ception of His nature. In this view of ; them
they acquire an importance and awfulness
greater than any they have in any other
manner of considering them, and the sense of
obligation attending the perception of them
becomes an iramediate and explicit decla
ration, that it is the will of the Deity that
they should be obeyed ; for it appears that it
is God himself imraediately that speaks to us,
and that, in short, the obligations of righteous
ness and benevolence are attributes of the
Deity forraing one idea, which is power, and
constituting that unchangeable rectitude and
perfection of His will which is the object of
our iraitation. They are his laws written
upon every heart, and binding equally every
reasonable creature, and whenever we con
tradict thera in our actions, we alienate our
selves frora Hira, and create an opposition
between our natures and his nature.
But 2dly, as the imitation pf God is thus
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376
our duty, so is it likewise our dignity. He is
the standard of all that is perfect, and by the
degree of approach to this standard is deter
mined the excellence and dignity of all
beings. Our bodily senses and appetites we
possess in comraon with the brutes. What
gives us our pre-eminence and most truly ele
vates us, is our knowledge of the Being that
made us, and our capacity of iraitating Hira.
If then we value our highest privilege: If
we have a just sense of our own honor, or
any feelings of that sacred ambition which be
comes us as the intellectual offspring of the
Deity, we should aim at reserabling Him,
and thus ennobling humanity, and rising to
divine excellence, by making ourselves par
takers of a divine nature.
How conteraptible raust that raan be, who
can be indifferent to such a raotive as this ?
Who can think of his being capable of a like
ness to God without a holy ardor, and prefer
his own debasement by vice and sensuality, to
his own exaltation, I should rather say, his
own deification by virtue and benevolence ?
From hence it foUows, 3dly, that in the
imitation of God consists our happiness. —

377
Duty, dignity, and happiness are essentiaUy
connected. Godlike qualities and virtues
must produce godlike bliss. The character
of the Deity is infinitely amiable. Our su
preme excellence consists (as I have just ob
served) in our conformity to if; and every
step by which we can gain any degree of this
conformity, is a step towards complete feU
city. It is impossible that God should not
delight in his own image wherever it exists ;
and what He delights in must be blest with
the effects of his particular care and protec
tion. How lovely an object is a mind that
bears this image? What order, what har
mony, what a heavenly satisfaction must pos
sess it ? With what confidence raay it con
teraplate its parent and preserver? What a
friend has it in the Sovereign of the crea
tion ? There is no happiness except in God,
and through Hira, and none can be happy in
Hira but those who are like Hira. There is
an essential repugnancy between His nature
and all moral evil. It is just as possible that
light and darkness should be the same, as that
He should be the cause of bliss to vicious
men. The future reward is to consist in
seeing and knowing God. This has been
called the beatifick vision ; and since God is

378
a being of spotless- purity, it is self-evident
that nothing can Iqualify for such a vision,
except a correspondent purity of nature and
character. I shall concludevwith the following reflec
tions* 1 St. How sure . .are ^ the jfdundatipns
of religion laid, andc how strong is the evi
dence for it. By religion is properly meant
the practice of virtue from a regard to the
will and authority of the Deity; and the
subject of this discourse shews' that the obli
gation (to this is just as certain, evident, and
unchangeable, as his moral perfections. The
proof of it is included in the following short
reasoning. There is an eternal moral dif
ference between actions and ends. God sees
this difference, or rather his nature constir
tutes it. He is therefore himself perfectly^
righteous and good ; and being, so, he must
require his intelligent creatures to be so as
far as he has given them powers for being so,
and consequently he must approve and favor
thera, or on the contrary disapprove and
punish thera as they are, or are not so.
2dly. The subject of this discourse shews
us in what true religion consists. . It is plain

379
that it consists entirely in being like God, or
as St. Paul speaks, in being " imitators of
Him as dear children." This is what alone
can render Him favorable to any of his crea
tures. Without this, all the external homage
we can pay Him, all our prayers, or profes
sions, or sacrifices, and attendance on ordi
nances only make us more the objects of his
displeasure. We see in the world a vast variety of dif
ferent religions. ; They are almost all of them
only so many systeras of ceremony, and dif
ferent raodes of superstition, placing religion
in a sordid will-worship, — in bodily ser
vices, repeating creeds and outward forras.
True religion is a totally different thing. It
consists in mercy raore than sacrifice, — in
doing more than believing, — in fidelity and
justice more than any ritual services. Such
in particular is the true Christian religion.
It makes loving God with all our hearts, and
loving our neighbour as ourselves, to be more
than all burnt-offerings and sacrifices. It
raakes a faith that could remove raountains
to be of no consequence without that charity
which seeketh not her own, which hopeth all
things, and endureth all things. It caUs men
4

380
off from superstition and idolatry, to the ac
knowledgment and the imitation of that one
Suprerae Being whose tender raercies are over
all his works ; and its exhortation to its
professors is. Be holy as God is holy. Be mer
ciful as He is merciful.
3dly, We may learn frora what has been
said, how iraportant it is that we form just
notions of God. It must be expected that
the actions and characters of men will be
governed in a great degree by the ideas they
have of the object of their worship. If they
represent Him to themselves as a partial, a
vindictive, a capricious, or a cruel being, they
will be reconciled to those vices, and their
characters will take a suitable turn ; and it is
not to be doubted but that the low and un
worthy notions which the ancient heathens
entertained of their deities, contributed much
to the corruption of their characters.
It is one of the irresistible recommend
ations of Christianity, that it removes this
cause of corruption, and that while it com
mands us to in) itate God, it describes Him to
us as the best of Beings, — as the Father of
mercies, as goodness itself, as the friend of

381
all virtue, the enemy of air vice, and the per
fect pattern of all that is amiable and ex
cellent. Happy are those who, despising all other
ambition, place their arabition in being and
doing like God. This is the labour of an
gels, be it then ours. To this all the my
riads of superior brings aspire. This is the
measure of their dignity, the limit of their
views and wishes. Let us unite our arabi
tion to theirs, that hereafter we raay rise to
their honors, and be adraitted to their
nuraber. We have room for endless ira
proveraent without the possibility of ever
reaching a point, beyond which we shall not
be able to raake further iraprovements ; for
the distance between God and his creatures is
infinite, and must reraain so after all pos
sible future additions to their dignity and
bliss. I have now been explaining to you the
first of all duties. I have been proposing
the subliinest of all ends, and exhorting you
to engage in the noblest of all works. It is
indeed an arduous as well as a glorious work.
But we have no reason for despondence. If

382
we apply our zeal to it, God will assist us.
His grace and favour are never wanting to
those who are not wanting to theraselves.
Being therefor.e sure of the co-operation of
God's grace, let us study to acquire a like
ness to Hira, that thus we raay be his genuine
offspring, and fit ourselves for seeing Hira
and being happy in Hira for ever. Let us
think ofthe order that governs nature. Let
us exhibit that order in our own conduct that
we raay share in the inflnite happiness which
it has been established to produce. Let us
consider that the noblest .spectacle we can
present to the surrounding creation, is a heart
reflecting the likeness of the Deity, a mihS
formed by his benevolence and rectitude. Let
us remeraber that this is glory unspeakable
and eternal, and that no feigned sanctity of
manners, or punctuality in rites and cere
monies will, without this, be " of any use to
us, or make any araends for the want of a
virtuous teraper and character.

383

SERM.QN XX.

ON -i-HE FUTURE INHERITANCE OP THE
ly...
RIGHTEOUS.

Rev. xxi. 7,
** He that overcometh "shall inherit all things."
OT. JOHN in this chapter represents him-
*^ self as seeing in prophetic vision the pre
sent heavens and the present earth passing
away, and new heavens and a new earth appear
ing in their roora, and that heavenly city or
new Jerusalem coming down , among men, in
which the presence and favour of the Deity^
and an exemption from pain and death, and
'Ml the evils of the present state were to be
enjoyed. "And I saw," says St- John, " a new
heaven and a new earth and the heavenly
city the new Jerusalem coming down from
God — and I heard a voice, saying, behold

384
the tp\)ernacle of God is with men, and he
will dwell with them, and he shall wipe all
tears frora their eyes — and there shall be no
raore death, neither sorrow, nor crying, nor
pain, for the former things are passed away
— and he that sat upon the throne said, be
hold I make all things new. I ara alpha and
oraega, the beginning and the end, and I
will give to hira that is athirst of the
fountain of the water of life freely." To
the sarae purpose St. Peter in his second
Epistle, after describing the death of this
world by a future general conflagration, adds,
" nevertheless we according to his promise,
look for new heavens and a new earth, where
in dwelleth righteousness." It is likewise to
to this representation that the author of the
epistle to the Hebrews refers, when he says
of the Christians to whom he wrote, " that
they were corae to Mount Sion, to the city
of the living God, to the heavenly Jerusa
lem, and the general asserably and church of
the first-born, and an innuraerable corapany
of angels."
The words of ray text iraraedlately follow
John's description of that future better state
of things which is hereafter to take place, and

385
acquaint us who are to be raade partakers of
its happiness, namely those that overcome, or
those who in the warfare appointed to man
kind in this world raaintain their integrity,
and abide true to religious virtue. " He that
overcometh shall inherit all things ;" perhaps
the original words raight have been as well
translated, " he that overcoraeth shall inherit
all these things," that is, all the happiness
just described. This the apostle gave as an
assurance frora the Suprerae Deity, and he is
represented as further declaring, that he " will
be the God of him that overcometh, and that
he shall be his son." " He that overcometh
shall inherit all these things, and I will be his
God, and he shall be my son." I consider
this as a striking part of Scripture. It in
forras us that after the universal resurrection,
all the virtuous part of raankind are to take
possession of new heavens and a new earth,
in which (under the special protection of the
Deity) they are to feel no more trouble, and
to die no raore ; the wicked, at the sarae
tirae, or (as they are called in the verse after
my text) the fearful, the aborainable, mur
derers, whoremongers, and all liars being
condemned to have their part in that lake
c c

386
burning with fire and brimstone, which is the
second death.
My present design is to give you an ac
count of the character here mentioned, him
that overcometh, and 2dly, of the reward and
happiness annexed to it, he fhat overcometh
shall inherit all these things, and I will be his
God, and he shall be my son.
In order to obtain a just idea of the cha
racter here mentioned, it is necessary we
should consider, 1st, the principles underthe
influence of which the person who overcomes
acts ; 2dly, the eneraies he encounters ; and
3dly, his perseverance in a succesful conflict
till the end of life. These particulars united
will give us a complete idea of hira. The
principles which influence him are chiefly the
love of truth and righteousness, — the desire
of maintaining the order of his raind, — a
sense of duty to the governor ofthe world, —
a regard to his own happiness, and the hope
of heavenly assistance.
In the 1st. place, he acts under the in
fluence of a love to truth and righteousness.

387
This is the fundamental principle of all genu
ine virtue, nor can any being possess merit as
a moral agent, except as far as he is governed
by it. Truth and -righteousness have the
same venerableness and excellence with God's
eternal nature, and they are the guides of all
his dispensations. They ought therefore to be
the first objects of the regard of his intelli
gent creatures, as far as he has made them
capable of perceiving them, and to this con
duct they require their constant attention and
labour should be directed. The apprehension
of rectitude and fitness in an action is the
same with the apprehension of an obligation
to perform it. It is an apprehension that
binds us in a manner that makes us conderan
and hate ourselves if we contradict it. This,
therefore, is* the motive that calls forth the
exertion of the man who overcoraes. H^
heart is inflamed with the love of moral ex
cellence, and an attachment to what is fair,
and worthy, and amiable. He cannot bear
the thought of violating the rules of ever
lasting righteousness by which the world
subsists, and of incurring, by a cowardly de
sertion of the cause of truth, the aversion of
his own mind, and disgrace among all wise
and virtuous beings. He Values his own
c c 2

388
honour and dignity, and resolves not to de
base hiraself by making his precious mind
the seat of pollution, guilt, and slavery. He
is further influenced by reverence for the
Deity, and a regard to his authority. Nothing
is plainer than that it raust be the will of God
that we should act by the sarae rule that He
acts, and be righteous as He is righteous.
He therefore must comraand righteousness,
and all who deviate frora it raust be the ob
jects . of his displeasure. The person I ara
describing acts under this persuasion. He
looks to God as the Sovereign Disposer of his
existence, and the Ruler of all events, and
nothing can appear to him more shocking
than disobedience to him, and an ungrateful
opposition to his authority. It is his ambi
tion to approve hiraself to Hira, and to shew
himself his loyal and faithful subject. He
knows that God appoints him this warfare,
and calls him to it, and that he cannot avoid
it without forfeiting his allegiance to him.
These are properly religious raotives, and it
is absolutely necessary that these should be
united to the raoral raotives above-raentioned
in order to render us strictly upright. Though
the native beauty of virtue and the perception
of obligation inseparable from it, should be

389
suflicient in all cases to deterraine Our wUls,
and must be the leading principle in every
virtuous mind, yet so iraperfect are we that it
cannot be expected we should maintain an
uniform course of virtuous conduct without
the aid of additional motives taken frora the
consideration, that the obligations of recti
tude are the laws of the Deity ; and even these
raotives corabined require to be further aided
by an attention to the sanctions anhexed to
God's laws, and a sense of the necessity of
obeying them in order to secure the effects of
God's favour, and to escape future punish
ment, I know that acting frora a regard to the
rewards of virtue and the punishment of vice
has been represented as raercenary, and there
fore not a proper principle of virtuous obe
dience. But this is by no raeans true. A
regard to our own interest is in general a just
and right principle ; and acting frora it is in
nuraberiess instances not only innocent but
praise-worthy. Ofthis we are continually
sensible in the coraraon course of our tera
poral affairs ; a person who carelessly and
imprudently neglects his own interest being
always an object of condemnation. But when
c c 3

390
this interest is our ultimate interest, — our
interest in another world, — an interest de
pendent on the favour of God and our obe
dience to his laws, the neglect of it must be
particularly crirainal. But what deserves
most to be observed in this case is, that the
reward promised to virtue is virtue itself, or
higher degrees of it in those habitations of
the just, into which nothing that defileth can
enter. The happiness a good man expects
in consequence of his services, is a deliverance
firom the power of sin, — ^higher degrees of
moral and intellectual improvement, and op
portunities of greater services, and a more
extensive usefulness. And surely such a hap
piness is a laudable and worthy object of our
pursuit, and it is folly to pretend that any in
fluence that the prospect of it can have on
our virtuous practice, can derogate from its
worth and acceptableness.
I have added that the perspn who over
coraes is further actuated by the hope of
heavenly assistance." He feels his own weak
ness and frailty ; but at the sarae tirae is en
couraged by the reflection that he is to fight
under God's eye and protection, and that if
not wanting to himself he is sure, through his

391
grace, of obtaining a victory. He relies "
therefore on God's support, knowing that, as
a holy Being, he must be the friend of all
holy desires, and can never suffer any of his
creatures to be defeated in their virtuous ex
ertions, for want of any help that it is proper
for Him to give. In this reliance he is con
firmed by the Christian revelation, in which
he finds many promises of grace and help to
sustain him under difficulties, and to carry
him through temptations and trials. Thus,
he is informed in particular, that there is a
Holy Spirit, the Comforter, and Sanctifier of
good men, and that God is ready to give this
Holy Spirit, that is, his supporting influence to
all that ask Him ; and He has also, as a be
liever in the gospel, an encourageraent of
unspeakable force in the exaraple of victory
and its rewards, which Christ has given him,
who, for the joy that was set before hira, en
dured the Cross and despised the sharae, and
is now set down at the right hand of the
Majesty on high, being invested with power
to succour thera that are terapted, and to com
raunicate to his faithful followers all neces
sary supplies of grace and assistance ; so that
every one of us may now say with St, Paul>
c c 4

392
/ Can do all things through Christ that strength-'
eneth me.
These, then, are the principles and en
couragements which influence the person who
undertakes the warfare referred to in my
text. Truth and reason, the authority of
the Deity, and the allegiance and gratitude
due to Hira ; his own dignity and final hap
piness, and the assurance of having heaven on
his side, all unite in calling hira out into this
conflict, and in determining hira to exert in it
all the energies of his soul.
Let us next recollect the eneraies he en
counters, and the difficulties he is to sur-
raount. These are various and nuraberiess ;
but they have coramonly been arranged under
the three heads ofthe world, — the flesh — and
the devil ; but they may with raore propriety
be coraprehended under the two first of these
heads, the devil certainly having no other
power over us than is iraplied in the terapt
ations of the world, and the lusts of our own
hearts. The latter are doraestic eneraies, or
enemies within our own breasts ; and the
former are external enemies, that is eneraies

393
which are thrown in our way by the opposi
tion of our fellow-creatures, and the wicked
ness with which we are surrounded. The
enemies within our own breasts which we
have to contend with are, all our inferior
powers and aniraal desires and affections, for
there is not one of these which will not sorae
tiraes assail our integrity, and solicit us to
sin. They are indeed our raost formidable
eneraies, and were it not for the aid they give,
our other eneraies would have little power.
Our greatest danger arises always frora the
irregularities of our desires, and the treachery
of our wills ; and our hardest struggle is with
our appetites and passions. The lust of the
flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of
life ; that is, our sensual, our avaricious, and
arabitious desires are continually rising up in
rebellion against the sovereignty of reason,
and subjecting us to crirainal conduct. It is
difficult to keep thera within proper liraits,
and to prevent thera from breaking in upon
our peace and innocence. But this must be
done. Exorbitant passions must be re
strained, and all those hostile attempts re
sisted. We must cut off (as our Saviour speaks)
a right hand, and pluck out a right eye,
whenever they come in competition with our

394
duty ; or (in other words) we raust sacrifice
gratifications the most agreeable, and interests
the most dear, whenever we cannot retain
them without relinquishing the interest of
truth and virtue. We must watch on all oc
casions our lower powers, subdue the excesses
of fear, self-love, and resentment, — extirpate
vicious habits, and crucify the flesh with its
affections and lusts. In a word we have our
selves to contend with and to conquer.
Let us next look to the world and survey
the eneraies without us, which the person
meant in ray text is to contend with. That
bewitching object to which we give the narae
of pleasure, proraising festivity and joy, and
surrounded with scenes of dissipation and
gaiety, will present itself to hira, and invite
hira by soft indulgencies to rairth and ease,
and voluptuousness. Profit and honour will
spread their snares for him. Pomp and
power, and the emoluraents attending them
will entice hira to purchase thera at the ex-
pence of his virtue. Or if none of these
eneraies corae in his way, the force of ridi
cule raay attempt to drive hira into guilt, and
it may be necessary to subrait to sharae in
order to avoid deserving sharae. Wicked

395
raen may insult him, poverty may threaten
him, — his own nearest kindred may re
proach him, and persecution in all its fright
ful forms may attack hira, and it raay not be
possible for hira to abide faithful to God and
truth without suffering the loss of goods, the
miseries of a dungeon, and perhaps at last a
cruel death. This happened to the first
Christians, and it has happened more or less
to many good men since. All these eneraies
the truly virtuous man must overcome.
Neither pleasure nor profit, nor any of the
poraps and vanities of this world, nor his own
heart's lust, nor persecution, nor the terrors of
death itself raust conquer his resolution. All
that is inconsistent with a steady loyalty of
heart to God's governraent he raust give up,
and all that is necessary to raaintain a good
conscience he raust consent to suffer. It re
raains to be added (in order to coraplete this
account) that he raust persevere in a succes
ful opposition to those eneraies till the end of
life. He cannot be said to have overcome, until
he is brought to the conclusion of his warfare,
and has shewn himself faithful unto death.
It is not enough that he begins well, and
makes perhaps, for some time, many success
ful efforts ; but he must hold on, and con-

396

tinue resolute and intrepid till his eneraies
cease frora troubling hira, and he is taken out
of the field. If we desert or draw back, we
are told that " God will have no pleasure

m us."

Such is the arduous work in which the
person who deserves the character in ray
text is engaged. Such are his difficulties,
and dangers, and toils, and such his perse
verance. You raay here well ask, who is
sufficient for such a contest? Or, how can
creatures so weak as we are be a match for
such eneraies, or entertain any hope of vic
tory ? I have already answered this enquiry.
It is indeed a hard contest, and requires rauch
exertion. But there is no reason for de
spondence. We have the srailes of the
Deity to aniraate us, — his favor to en
courage us, and his alraighty power to assist
us. Fortitude and vigilance united to the
all-sufficient grace of Christ, cannot but issue
in success and triuraph. " Who," says St.
Paul, "shall separate us from the love of
God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord?
Shall tribulation or distress, or persecution,
or famine, or sword, or nakedness, or life, or
death, or things present, or things to come ?

397
Nay, in all these things we are more than
conquerors through him that loved us."
I have now given you an account (brief
indeed and very iraperfect) of the character
referred to in the words him that overcometh.
I have recited to you the principles of his
conduct, — the eneraies he conquers, — and
his perseverance in a succesful conflict till
death sets hira free. I ara next to give you
an account of the happy consequences of his
fortitude and perseverance. These are very
strikingly expressed in ray text. He that
overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will
he his God, and he shall he my son. In the
first place he is possessed of that raoral excel
lence which is the highest honor and dignity
of a reasonable being. All honor corapared
with this is mean and despicable. It is
nobler to conquer one's self than to conquer
the universe. To reduce unruly passions, —
to restrain appetite when it cannot be grati
fied, — to suppress the risings of envy, lust,
and pride, and contemn danger and even
death itself in a virtuous pursuit; — this is
indeed heroisra ; this gives a character raore
lustre than all the titles and grandeur and
advantages that this world can bestow. If
9

398
then you wish for glory, seek it here. Not
from dominion over others, but from self do
minion. Not from the stare of your fellow
men, or any of that gaudy tinsel that dazzles
too often unthinking mortals, but frora wis
dom and virtue, — from being good and doing
good, — from an invariable uprightness of
conduct and a faithful adherence to your
duty as a raoral agent and a candidate for
eternity. Thus will you be the honourable
and great, and princes and kings the ignoble
and base. Thus will you afford a spectacle
that wUl delight superior beings, while the
children of sensuality and ambition are held
by them in detestation. The sublimest pros
pect in nature is that of a person solicited by
temptations, but deaf to every call but that
of rectitude, — impelled to wickedness by his
passions, but remaining master of himself, —
struggling with misfortunes, but patient and
submissive, — allured by vice and courted by
pleasure, but firra in his virtuous course, —
abused and persecuted, but always true to his
principles, and at last sacrificing, not only
every worldly eraoluraent, but life itself, to
his integrity, I may truly say (with an old
philosoper) that this is a spectacle on which
God himself looks down with delight.

399
But this leads me, in the next place, to ob
serve, that the raan who overcoraPs, possesses
the approbation of the Deity, This is, with
out doubt, the first and the raost valuable of
all blessings. The words of ray text direct
our thoughts particularly to it, by announcing
to us, as frora God hiraself, that he will be
the God of the man that overcomes, and that he
shall be his son. What a privilege must this
be ! What a distinction, greater than words
can express or heart conceive, does it iraply
to be approved and loved, and as it were
adopted by the Parent and Sovereign of
Nature ? How anxious are raen in their de
sires to obtain honour frora one another?
How do they exult when they can boast of
their relation to worras like themselves who
happen to be decorated with ribbands, mitres,
or crowns ? What an infatuation must pos
sess us if we do not value infinitely more that
relation in which (according to my text) a
virtuous man stands to the greatest and best
of beings ? But it is necessary to add, that as
a son of God, he is entitled to an inheritance.
This is plainly intimated by the words, he that
overcometh shall inherit all things. Sons are
the heirs of their parents, and in conformity
to this idea, the sons of ^God are declared to
be heirs of God. Thus St. Paul reasons

400
(Rom. viii. 16) if children, then heirs, heirs of
God, and Joint heirs with Christ.
It may not be improper here to observe,
that the excellence of the inheritance is always
in proportion to the rank and power of the
parerit. What then raust be the excellence of
the inheritance of a son of God ? St. Peter
calls it an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled,
and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for
us. It is the inheritance of a kingdora that
cannot be moved, — " an inheritance consist
ing of a crown of life, of treasures that cannot
fail, and an exceeding and eternal weight of
glory," in that country beyond the grave
where the virtuous are to meet. Rich, in
deed, will be this inheritance, and the faintest
hope of it should be sufficient to raake us
insensible to all the glory of this world, and
to annihilate all its teraptations. Happy
then is the raari who overcomes. Even in
this life he is the happiest of raankind ; for
with a good conscience he possesses inward
health arid liberty and peace, — the supports
of God's grace, and the assurance of his favour.
These are the best of all present blessings,
but they are only a pledge and fore-taste of
future, greater blessings. The raan who
overcomes (you have heard) is honoured with

401
the relation of a son to that Being who has
all the wealth of nature at His disposal, and
he may expect that nature wUl be made to
furnish its richest stores to bless him. In this
book of the Revelations we are told, that " he
shall eat of the tree of life in fhe midst of the
paradise of God, and nof he hurt hy the second
death ; — thaf he shall be confessed hefore
Chrisf by his father and fhe angels ; — that
he shall he made a pillar in the temple of
God, and go out no more, — and that he shall
sit with Christ on his throne, even as he also
overcame, and is set down with the father on
his throne."
And now, after this account of the reward
of overcoming, what remains but that I ask
you what you will do ? Enter yourselves un
der the banners of Christ and engage in this
warfare, or shrink from it and resign your
selves to slavery and raisery? With such a
prospect before you as I have described, and
such encouragement, can you indulge inac
tivity and sloth ? In a contest so honourable
and glorious will you not exert all your
powers, and resolve to maintain an inviolable
integrity, that you raay be dignified with the
title of the Sons of God, and as joint heirs
D D

402
with Christ, rise to a place on his throne.
Recollect the words I have just recited from
Revelations iii. 31. "To him that overcometh
will I grant fo sit with me on my throne,
even as I also overcame and am set dotvn with
my father on his throne."
Are there within us any aspiring princi
ples ? Can we think of sacrificing to the fear
of man or the corruptions of the world our
loyalty to God, our dignity as reasonable be
ings, and our hopes as iraraortal beings? Oh,
let us, fellow-christians, take up arras against
our enemies — disdain the shameful servitude
of sin, and press forward with zeal towards fhe
mark for the prize of the high calling of God
in Christ Jesus. And that we may be enabled
to do this with greater success let us labour
to increase our faith, that is, to increase our
attention to religious truths, and to work into
our minds a deeper sense of their iraportance.
Often view the crown which is held up to
you and ready to be given you. Think that
you have Christ calling to you in the words
in the Revelations xxii. 12. " Behold I come
quickly, and my reward is with me to give
every man according as his work shall he."
Conteraplate the example of victory and con-
3

403
sequent exultation and triumph which you
have in the captain of your salvation, and the
author and finisher of your faith. Consider
his admonition to his followers, John xvi. 23.
" In the xvorld you shall have tribulation, hut
be of good comfort, I have overcome the world."
Let us further, in order to gain more
strength in this contest, think how transitory
human life is, and how soon our difficulties
will be over. But more especially let rae
caution you against adraitting a parley with
your enemies. To parley in this case, is to
capitulate. Never suffer yourselves to hesi
tate about avoiding a wrong action. Take
care of going into the way of temptation.
Flee from all the occasions of guilt and all
the approaches to it. In short, be always on
your guard, and reraeraber for what you are
struggling: — for the order of your rainds, —
for internal peace — for the cause of truth and
virtue — for a place araong the saints in the
city of the living God, — for heaven and ira
mortal glory. Remeraber likewise how vile
your adversaries are. Low passions, brutal
lusts, and wicked raen, or (as St. Paul speaks)
spiritual wickedness in high places and the
rulers of the darkness of this world. These

404
are God's eneraies as well as yours. Power
ful indeed, but powerful only because you
make them so by carelessness, and sloth, and
irresolution. Remember further the friends
you have in this contest. All the wise and
Virtuous — God who sees you with approba
tion, fighting in his cause, and against his
eneraies. — Christ, who has himself been en
gaged in a like contest, and is now set down
at the right hand of power. Oh, be firm
then and faithful. Fight and overcorae.
God will be with you, and the joys of
eternity will raake infinite amends for
the bravery of an hour. To say no more :
May the God of peace bruise Satan under
your feet; and raay each of us be able to say,
at the close of life, with St. Paul, " I have
fought a good fight : I have kept the faith :
Henceforth there is laid up for rae a crown of
righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous
judge, will bestow upon rae, and not on rae
only, but on all the faithful and worthy."
THE END.

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