/A7-£- THE COMPLETE WORKS OF THE LATE REV. PHILIP SKELTON, RECTOR OF FINTONA, &c. &c. TO WHICH IS PREnXED, BURDY'S LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. EDITED BY THE REV. ROB^- LYNAM, A. M. ASSISTANT CHAPLAIN TO THK MAGDALEN HOSPITAL. IN SIX VOLUMES: VOL. III. J. F. Dove, St. John'fl Square. LONDON: RICHARD BAYNES, 28, PATERNOSTER ROW: HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY ; PARKER, OXFORD ; DEIGHTON AND SONS, CAMBRIDGE; WAUGH AND INNES, EDINBURGH; CHALMERS AND COLLINGS, GLASGOW; M. KEENE; AND R. M. TIMS, DUBLIN. 1824. hhc9 v.3 CONTENTS THIRD VOLUME. Page Discourse XLVIII. Right Reason saith, Believe in God-- 1 XLIX. Christian Faith is Faith in the Holy Trinity 'i3 L. Christian Faith demonstrated by the Resurrection of Christ 42 LL Beware of false Teachers 54 LII. Stand fast in the Faith 70 LIII. On Confirmation , 82 LIV. The faithful and acceptable Truth 93 LV, Ihe Necessity and Efficacy of the great Sacrifice 104 LVI. The Necessity and Efficacy of Spiritual Nourishment • ¦ 119 LVII. None but the Child of God hears God 133 LVIIL Who is for God, and who against him 146 LIX. Folly wiser than Wisdom 160 LX. The Scorner scorned 175 LXI. The true Christian is both dead and alive 193 LXII. The Thinker shall be saved 207 LXIII. God will raeasure to you in your own Bushel 222 LXIV. The Pinnacle of Christ's Church 238 LXV. The good Few require but a narrow road • • • 258 LXVI. A Crowd must have a broad road 272 LXVII. How to choose a good Husband or Wife 286 LXVIII. How to be happy, though married 302 LXIX. Vanity of Vanities 319 LXX. Rob him not of the Seventh, who gave you Six 334 LXXI. The Church of Christ can have but one Mind 355 CONTENTS. Page LXXII. The Case of Protestant Refugees from France con sidered 375 LXXIII. The Pastoral Duty 388 LXXIV. Christ's Charity Sermon [Intended to have been preached at the Magdalen Asylum] 402 Forms of Prayer for various purposes 413 Reflections on Predestination • 437 A summary of ReUgion 479 DISCOURSES, CONTROVERSIAL AND PRACTICAL, DISCOURSE XLVIII. RIGHT REASON SAITH, BELIEVE IN GOD. Rom. IV. 3. What saith tlte Scriptures? Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto film for righteousness. The most important dispute at present among the profes sors of Christianity, is that about the authority of Scripture in revealing and prescribing, and the prerogative of reason in expounding and understanding the language of Scripture. They who call themselves the advocates of reason say, it is impossible for them to believe or obey any thing, though appearing to come from God, but that which is in itself agreeable to their own reason, whereby alone, they say, God hath enabled them to judge and determine between truth and error, right and wrong. Accordingly, when the plain sense of Scripture clashes with their reason, they claim a right to look for another, more agreeabfe to that, thongh less so to the words. This, now, is called infidelity, deism, and dictating to God, by those who undertake the defence of that authority, wherewith, tbey say, the Scriptures are delivered to man kind. All the prerogative these men will allow to reason here, though it were the reason of a Newton, is that of a mere interpreter, whose sole business it is to find out the plain, natural, and consistent sense of God's words ; and then believe or obey that sense, as the assertion or command of VOL. III. B 2 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. God, though ever so irreconcileable to her judgment, had it been the assertion or command of any but God. The former boldly maintain, God could never require this of us, because it is, in their opinion, destroying the na ture he hath given us, is extinguishing his candle in the soul, and leaving us exposed to all manner of errors afterward ; for what is there, but reason, to distinguish them from truth? The latter as boldly insist, that when God speaks the common language of men, he means to be understood by all men; and that reason knows no principle, no truth, more to be depended on, especially in things above reason, thaq the word of God. Which of these are in the right, will best appear by a fact exactly in point. This will be found in the instance of Abraham's faith, and the approbation of God, repeatedly given to that faith. What that faith was, I shall, in the first place, shew from the Scriptures relating thereto. Secondly, I shall shew, why it was counted to him for righteousness, that is, highly approved by God, as an act of saving virtue, having first laid before you the true meaning, or sense, wherein the word righteousness is here to be taken. And thirdly, I shall prove, that his faith is recommended to us, not only as a pattern and model for ours, but as that very faith which will be imputed to all who have it, as right eousness, no less than it was to Abraham. That we may, in the first place, clearly conceive what the faith of Abraham was, it will be requisite to attend a little to the trials it underwent, and the proofs it gave of it self, as set forth in the history of this patriarch. The first proof given of his faith was, when God com manded him to quit his country, his kindred, and his father's house in Haran, and to remove into the land of the Canaan ites, where he promised to ' make of him a great nation,' and ' in him to bless all the families of the earth.' The love of his country, his father's house, and his relations, was no hinderance to his obedience on this occasion. He did not set the comforts he enjoyed in a place corrupted with ido latry, in competition with the promises of God, but imme diately renounced them all, and went into a foreign country, ' wherein none inheritance,' for the present, was given him. XLVIII.j BELIEVE IN GOD. 3 ' no not so much as to set his foot on.' But whereas God promised to ' give it to him for a possession,' and ' to his seed after him,' he went, relying on this promise, when as yet he had no child, nor any natural prospect of children, for his wife was unfruitful. On a renewal of this promise, some time after his removal, he rested satisfied, till God appearing again to him in a vision, and encouraging him with strong assurances of his protection, the patriarch modestly expos tulated with the Lord on his being childless, and having then received a promise of issue, ' he believed in the Lord, and it was counted to him for righteousness,' even then when the improbability of his having a son, arising from hi.s own and his wife's age, though very great, was not yet come to the lieight. But about fifteen years afterward, when Abraham was now very near a hundred, and his wife ninety years old, God promised to give him a son by her ; having received an assurance of this most extraordinary event with a mixture of joy and wonder, ' he staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God,' and ' being fully persuaded, that what he had pro mised, he was able to perform.' At this time, the promise, which God had given to Adam, •^that the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the serpent,' whereof, under the name of his covenant, he ap pears to have reminded Noah, both before and after the de luge, and wherewith he had once already formally confirmed the faith of Abraham, under the same name of his covenant, is now renewed to him, to his son Isaac, yet unborn, and to all his posterity by that son, still under the name of God's covenant, with the sign or seal of circumcision added. In due time, after this last promise of a son made to Abraham, Sarah actually brought him a son, whom he cir cumcised, and called by the name of Isaac. The faith of Abraham, thus already tried and approved, is to be brought to a yet severer test than ever. Although the covenant, as we have just now seen, was established with Isaac as well as Abraham; although in virtue of that cove nant, a promise was given, that great and numerous nations should descend from Isaac; and although in him a blessing had been repeatedly promised to all the other nations of the B 2 4 RIGHT REASON SAITH, " [dISC. earth ; yet his father is commanded by God to slay and sa crifice this very son, now five-and-twenty years old, as yet unmarried and childless. And behold ! Abraham builds an altar, by the express appointment of God on mount Moriah, where Christ our sacrifice wafe afterward offered up, lays the wood in order, and binding his son Isaac, places him on the altar and on the wood, stretches forth his hand, and takes the knife to slay his son. But vvhen his hand is raised to give the fatal wound, it is restrained by tbe angel of the Lord, who provides a vicarious sacrifice in tbe place of Isaac. Here end the trials and proofs of Abraham's faith ; on which the ' angel of the Lord called unto Abraham out of heaven the second time, and said. By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son ; that in blessing I \. ill bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea-shore ; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his ene mies ; and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice.' Such was the faith of Abraham, concerning which four things are to be remarked. First, That being fully convinced, God had really uttered both the promises and commands, already mentioned, he never stayed to reason on the possibility of the former, nor on the rectitude of the latter. He' had no doubts about the possibility of his begetting a son, when he was a hundred, nor of his wife's bearing a son, when she was ninety years old, howsoever unnatural this appeared to be, since God had promised it should actually be. On this he firmly relied, ' and even against hope,' as the apostle expresses it, ' he be lieved in hope.' He was equally far from doubting, whether God could make the posterity ofhis son Isaac as numerous as the stars of heaven, and blesS all the nations ofthe earth in his seed, although that son was then to be cut off, before he had any children, ' accounting that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead.' And as to the rectitude ofthe matter commanded, he did not say, like a modern, is not God indispensably obliged to act by the natural and eternal law of justice? How, therefore, can he command a father to kill with his own hands, his good and dutiful son.' Or XLVILI.] . BELIEVE IN GOD. 5 how can even the command of God authorize a deed so un natural in me ? No, he knew it his duty to do whatsoever God commanded, he knew God commanded him to do this, and he knew therefore that God had a right to command it, and consequently to be obeyed. He did not set up the dic tates ofhis moral sense against the evidence ofa revelation actually given, against the evidence of things not seen, nei ther was he prevailed with by nature to rebel against the author and God of nature. Howsoever astonishing the faith of Abraham, thus triumphing over the severest trials, may seem to some men, it was as far from a weak credulity, as his obedience, the effect of that faith, was from a slavish submission. Right reason was with him in all he believed, although ever so incredible to less rational men, for it was God whom he believed ; and right reason was therefore with him in all he did, although ever so contrary to the feelings of flesh and blood in him, as well as in men less religious, for it was God whom he obeyed. Secondly, It is carefully to be remarked, that those af fections, which in corrupt and libertine natures prove too hard for the clearest evidences of religion, gave no obstruc tion to tbe faith and obedience of Abraham. He was a good man, and as such, no doubt, loved his country and kindred no le§s tenderly than other good men. Yet he forsook them all, and followed the commandment of God into a strange land, where he had neither friends nor connexions. He was a prudent man, and had all that regard to his worldly affairs and interests, which a prudent and honest man ought to have ; yet, without the least regret or hesitation, without any other reliance than on the blessing and protection of God, and even without a promise from God of any immediate establishment among the Canaanites, he quitted a comfort able settlement at Haran, where his father had prospered, and he was growing rich, to sojourn in a distant country, at a time when that country was afflicted with famine. Abraham was also a man, in whom humanity and natural affection were as strong, as in any other man. His son Isaac was be loved by him with all that tenderness which the best of fathers feels for the best of children. Yet when God com mands him to execute his son with his own hands, he raises the deadly weapon, and with a full purpose of obedience. 6 BIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. aims at the heart of his innocent, his beloved child, the com fort of his life, the prop of his old age, the gift of God, and the foundation of all his hopes. On this most trying occa sion, he felt no libertine dispute between his rebellious af fections, and the awful commands of God ; or only felt it in a glorious triumph of reason, of faith, and of duty over these soothing sophisters of the heart, which unbelievers find it so difficult to refute or silence. Thirdly, It is to be remarked, that, in all this, Abraham was the first confessor on record to Christianity, or the covenant in Christ Jesus ; for to ' Abraham and his seed were the great and spiritual promises' of that covenant repeatedly made. This is clearly proved by St. Paul, who observes, that God in giving these promises to Abraham, ' saith not, and to seeds, as of many, but as of one, and to thy seed, which is Christ ;' and farther, * that God confirmed the covenant in Christ by promise to Abraham, four hundred and thirty years before he gave the law by Moses.' Hence it is, that the same apostle saith, ' God preached the gospel, or cove nant unto Abraham, saying, In thee shall all nations be blessed.' And hence also it was, that Christ himself tells the Jews, 'your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day' (that is, prophetically to see the time of my coming), ' and he saw it, and was glad.' Lastly, It is worth observing, that the sacrifice of Isaac (for such intentionally it was) by the hands of his own fa ther, was providentially designed by God to familiarize and predispose the posterity of Abraham, and through them the rest of mankind, to the future sacrifice of Christ, " who was delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God to be crucified and slain, an offering for sin.' From the sacrifice of Isaac to that of Christ, there was time enough afforded to debate and settle this important point, that God, as an absolute legislator, could dispense with a law of his own making, and order a father to slay his son, or give up his own to be slain. Yet even at this day, there are some pretended Christians who dispute the dispensing power of God in regard to the law of nature, and consequently the authority of this record given by Moses, concerning the sa crifice of Isaac, although in so doing they destroy that of the whole Scripture. These men, however, in opposition to XLVIII.] BELIEVE IN GOD. 7 the scheme of providence, from first to last, do but strike at the sacrifice of Christ through that of Isaac, for they can by no means digest the doctrine of the Holy Spirit by St. Luke, that Christ was or could have been ' slain by the determinate counsel of God,' as he was wholly without sin, nor the doc trine of the same Spirit by St. Peter, that ' Christ hath suf fered for sins, the just for the unjust, being put to death in the flesh, that he might bring us to God.' Let us now proceed, in the second place, to inquire, why this faith of Abraham was imputed to him for righteousness, and in what sense the word righteousness is here to be un- derstood. If by this word we understand nothing more than that goodness or virtue, which consists in a firm reliance on the promises, and a ready obedience to the will of God, a very short inquiry may suffice on this occasion; for Abraham believed and relied with all the cheerfulness and confidence that is due to the promises of infinite truth itself; and he obeyed with equal resignation. Now, in a confidence and obedience like his, there is undoubtedly the highest degree of virtue and goodness that human nature is capable of. His j udgment was resigned, against all human appearances, to the promises, and his will submitted, against the bent of all his aflfections, to the commands of his Maker. This is virtue (and the piety, it is hoped, that gave rise to it, will not be allowed to spoil it) if there is any such thing as virtue in the world. This, however, is not all that was meant by Moses and the apostle, when they said, that the faith of Abraham was count ed to him for righteousness. No, as he believed in Christ, his righteousness was even the imputed ' righteousness of God, which is by faith in Jesus Christ, unto all, and upon all them that believe.' All men have sinned, not excepting even ' Abraham himself, and have come short of the glory of God ;' but Abraham, as well as the rest of mankind, is •freely justified by grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus ; whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood. Where is boasting then ? boast ing in our own righteousness ? It is excluded.' As to Abra ham himself, even supposing him to have been 'justified by works, though he may have whereof to glory, he cannot 8 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC glory before God,' because his good works were done through the grace and assistance lent him by God ; and ' therefore what saith the Scripture ? Abraham beheved, and it was counted to him for righteousness. Now to him that work eth, is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth in him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness. Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man to whom God imputeth righteousness without works, saying. Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man to whom God will not impute sin. Thus We see, that tbe righteousness of Abraham was his faith, that his faith was a firm reliance on the merits of his. Redeemer, and that those merits obtained for him remission of sins,that is, acquittal, justification, and righteousness, in the sight of his judge. Had God removed Abraham out of the world, the instant this faith, and the good resolutions result ing from this faith, were confirmed in bim, before he had time to reduce those resolutions to practice, we should no more have doubted of his justification, than we now doubt it, after all he did. But though no good works which Abra ham did, could give him a right to pardon for his ill ones ; yet those works, or at least a will and resolution to do them,- were necessary to his faith, otherwise it must have been, what St. James calls a dead faith, and consequently incapa ble of justifying. 'Was not Abraham,' saith the apostle, 'justified by works, when he had offered his son Isaac upon the altar? Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect? And the Scripture was fulfilled, which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed to him for righteousness.' Herein is no contradic tion to the doctrine of St. Paul, who insists on the power of a principle or cause, whereas St. James insists on the ne cessity of the effect, in order to prove the power of that cause ; and St. Paul does the same as peremptorily, when ever his subject brings it in his way. St. Paul, to remove all dependence on that ' righteous ness which is by the law,' and establish a firm reliance on ' the righteousness of Christ,' the sole righteousness where by the punishment of sin actually committed maybe averted. XLVlIt.] BELIEVE IN GOD. 9 and the reward of good works, though for \vant of opportu nity, never performed, may be obtained ; lays the chief stress on faith, as the great immediate principle in every true be liever, by which the righteousness of Christ is brought home, applied, and imputed to his soul, as if it were his own, and by which also the free gift and grace of God ai-e glorified in the salvation of every real Christian. But then this apostle in a thousand places, makes this faith the spring of repent ance, reformation, and good works j if we believe in his doctrine, we must die to sin, and live anew unto righteous ness. * This,' saith he to Titus, 'isa faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm constantly, that they which have believed in Grod, be careful to maintain good works ; for God hath not caUed us to uncleanness, but to holiness.' St. James himself is not more full for the necessi^ of good works. He only insists that faith, as a principle of life and action must be proved by good works, as its true and natural efiects, the very doctrine of St, Paul to Titus : he even forbids the hope of success to our prayers, if we ' ask not in &ith,' and repeats it, that the faith of Abraham was imputed to him for righteousness, but observes, ' that his faith was made perfect by works, and that faith without works is dead.' I ask, however, did he expect good works without faith ? No more, undoubtedly, than he hoped for firuit without a tree. Having now seen what the faith of Abraham was, why it was counted to him for righteousness, and what we are to understand by this righteousness ; it is time to shew, in the last place, that the faith of Abraham is recommended to us, not oidy as a pattem and model for ours, but as that very faith which wDl be imputed to all who have it as righteous ness, no less than it was to Abraham. Had the example of Abraham's faith and resignation been never recommended to us, it must hare been nevertheless highly deserving of our imitation. To know it, and to ad mire it, is but the same thing in a good mind : and to know and admire it, without endeavouring to follow it, is impossi ble to such a mind. To believe in Grod, to trust in him, and to give up ourselves and all things that concern us. to 10 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. his wise and gracious disposal, is a conduct agreeable not only to reason, gratitude, and duty ; but even to self-love. Such a conduct, however, when blessed, rewarded, and applauded by God himself in our sight, acquires the force of a command. What he so highly approves of in one man, he must, we are sure, approve of in another, the circumstances being alike. But not to imitate that to the uttermost of our power, which God is so well pleased with, argues a stupid indifference to his will and pleasure. As however this sort of stupidity, although of the gross est nature, is by no means uncommon, the Holy Spirit know ing that the most shining examples do not always strike our eyes in proportion to their brightness, hath not only set such examples before us, but frequently pointed them at us, and by his precepts called us to the imitation of them. The example of Abraham in particular he hath directly recom mended to us ; for immediately after saying, ' his faith was imputed to him for righteousness,' he adds, 'now it was not _ written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him, but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead, who was deli vered for our offences, and was raised again for our justifi cation.' We are ' therefore to walk in the steps of the faith of Abraham,' who is 'the father of all them that believe, that righteousness may be imputed to us also.' We ought to know, that ' they which are of faith, the same are the chil dren of Abraham, and that the Scripture foreseeing that God would justify the heathen through faith, preached before the gospel to Abraham, saying, In thee shall all nations be bless ed, so that they which be of faith, are blessed with faithful Abraham.' Thus you see, our faith must be the same in substance with that of Abraham, our precedent and father in believing. Its qualities must be also the same. It must be firm and lively. It must have the dominion over all our passions, affections, and interests, as it had over his. It must regu late our thoughts, prompt our words, and prescribe our re solutions, and actions, as it did those of Abraham. His offering up his only Son was not more intended for a type ofthe great sacrifice offered by the heavenly Father XLVIII.] BELIEVE IN GOD. 11 in his only Son Jesus Christ, than his faith, in all its parts and effects, was intended for a type and pattern of ours. If he. through a firm persuasion that God best knows what every man ought to do, and hath an absolute right to determine what he shall do, subdued all his passions and af fections to the will of God ; we, through a like persuasion, must subdue ours also to the divine will, must ' deny our selves,' and, if we are called to it, must ' take up our cross, and follow Christ.' If he thus stifled the aff'ections of his own heart, with a view, founded on the promises of God, to greater joys than the gratification of those affections could give him, and with an eye to his Redeemer, so we likewise, ' denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world ; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ.' If Abraham strengthened by his faith, and submitting to the will of God, renounced his country, kindred, and the lands he was actually possessed of, in a place corrupted with idolatry and wickedness, and travelled to a distant land, a land raerely of promise ; we, in like manner, actuated by our faith, and renouncing the things of this present sinful vvorld, ought to fix our eyes on the future happiness hoped for, and be ready, as often as God requires it, to ' leave our houses, our brethren, our sisters, our fathers, our mothers, our wives, our children, our lands, for Christ's sake, and for the gospel's,' in hopes of receiving ' an hundred fold, now in this present time,' as Abraham did, if such shall be the will of God, and with a certainty of eternal life in the world to come. You see how parallel our faith and duty are to those of Abraham, particularly in the resignation of our children, insomuch that every Christian, having, with Abraham, re ceived the promises, ought, as he did, to offer up ' his only- begotten' son, in case God should require him at his hands ; ' for he that loveth son or daughter more than Christ, is not worthy of him,' nor of his Father, who surrendered him to death an offering for our sins. And as Abraham must have believed, against all human probability in the resurrection of the dead (for how otherwise could he have relied on the promises made to him in the posterity of that childless son he was going to kill ?) so it is necessary we likewise should 12 RIGHT REASON SAITH. [dISC. ' believe, not only in him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead, that the righteousness wbich is by faith may be imputed to us also,' but in the same doctrine of a resurrec tion, already past in regard to Christ, and yet to come in re gard to ourselves, be this doctrine as mysterious as it will. As Abraham reasoned on the necessity of a resurrection in order to the hope of posterity by his son, before any instance of an actual resurrection had been given, or any promise (for ought appears) had yet encouraged that reasoning, so, now that both an instance and a promise are recorded, as assur ances, that we shall rise again from the dead, our faith in an event so absolutely neeessarv to our entering into etemal life, hath every argument to support it, which the nature of that event vvill admit, and therefore is absolutely required. Our faith (no more than that of Abraham) is not to stagger at any degree of mysteriousness or ia: probability in the re velations or promises of God, for otherwise we cannot be the children of Abraham, nor believe as he did, nor be blessed with him. Faith, vou see, underwent no trial in Abraham, which it may not, one time or other, undergo in any believer. Nay, the faith of every believer is at all times tried, as that of Abraham was, though not always so severely. The promises of God are, or ought to be, always before our eyes, and in order to obt'-jn the great things promised, there is always something amazing and unaccountable by reason to be be lieved, that tbe pride of our understandings mav be humbled ; there is ever something to be denied or subdued in ourselves that our rebellious passions may be mortified ; something to be guarded against, or contended with, in the world ; some thing too pleasing, that God bath forbidden, to be avoided ; or something bated by a corrupt nature, that he hath com manded fo be performed ; some houses, lands, or kindreds to be left ; some jonmey to an unknown place of promise to be undertaken ; some darling Isaac to be oflered up, whom in gratitude we ought to ofier, since God hath off'ered his Isaac, or only Son, for us. And any one of these may require all the vigour of a lively faith in him who is so circumstanced. Hence we may see that the faith of a Christian never wants exercise, never wants opportunities of ofi'ering up sacrifices to God, of ofi'ering up on some occasions, such sacrifices as XLVIII.] BELIEVE IN OOD. 13 require an equal degree of trust in God, and resignation to his will, with those of Abraham, when he laid his only son on the altar. The things we are to sacrifice are often as dear to us as Isaac was to him, and require the cord, the knife, and a stern and unrelenting heart like his, to make them proper victims for the altar of God. Now nothing but a lively faith, and a steady expectation of the glory promised to us in Christ Jesus, can give us such a heart ; and no other faith but this, will be ' counted to us for righteous ness.' That faith which can produce no effects like these, 'is dead,' for it is • without works,' and may ' tremble,' with ' the faith of devils,' but it cannot hope, with that of Chris tians. Thus ought we to reason and act underthe single suppo sition of believing that the Scriptures are really the word of God, although we could not see either the fitness or benefit of injunctions so rigorous and hard to be obeyed, because it ought to be presumed, that there is sufficient fitness and be nefit in every thing enjoined by God. But as in most cases the reasonableness of this obedience is, or may be, apparent to any considering mind, the heart that proves refractory is left without excuse. The severest precepts of the gospel are as far from being tyrannical, as the most indulgent. Their only tendency is to purify our corrupt affections, to raise them above the world, and to knit them eternally to God. Even reason and experience may teach us, that, without the benefit of such a discipline, we must for ever remain in our original impurity, and consequently incapacity of a union with the source of happiness. It is therefore only in a heart uninfluenced by right reason, that any opposition is given to the duty of imitating Abraham, either in faith or practice. The Christian faith would be universally embraced, did every man find it as pleasant to perform its duties, as it is easy to believe in its evidences. But even among those who do profess it, and for such only this discourse is intended, the resistance given by a corrupt and refractory heart, saps its foundations in the understanding, and enfeebles it in its operations. Hence come all the disputes about its most necessary and evident principles, with all the doubts and cavils about its mysteries. One man finds it very difficult 14 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. to believe that God should command mankind to mortify those passions which he himself hath given them. Another cannot conceive himself obliged to believe in that which so great an understanding as his cannot account for. One is too refined to be good on hopes and fears. Another is too knowing to need a teacher, though sent directly from hea ven. Either therefore there were no miracles wrought to prove the truth of Christianity, nor is there any rectitude and force in its precepts ; or else if this conclusion is refuted by the profits derived from a profession of Christianity, and not to be retained if that is renounced ; then another course must be taken, and the reason of these cavillers must be vested with supreme authority to explain the Scriptures, and give such a convenient turn to every thing, that nothing shall be left to contradict their opinions, or bear too hard on their passions and pursuits. Our reason, say they, is the directing and ruling power ofour nature. By this, in matters ofreligion, as well as in all other things, God requires we should be both guided and governed ; and therefore can never be supposed to offer any thing to us in his word, which we cannot perfectly under stand, much less to require any thing of us, which our own judgment does not approve of. Nothing therefore in his word can be mysterious ; and if any thing contained in it, appears however to be so, it is the business of our reason to fit it with a meaning more familiar to herself. Neither can any thing there make that right, which our reason tells us is wrong ; nor that wrong, which our reason says is right. If any thing therefore in the Scriptures appears to do so, it is the office ofour reason to prove this to be but an appear ance, and to find out some sense for the words, more easily digested by the understandings which our Maker hath be stowed upon us. Thus is the reason of these men set up by themselves above the word of God. Both sides of a flat contradiction may as easily be true, as this deistical, can be a right plan, to proceed on in rela tion to religion. Your passions and desires so often solicit you to that which you know to be wrong, that it is just mat ter of wonder, how you can object to that restraint and mor tification, when imposed by revelation, which the natural effects of those passions force common sense to have re- XLVIII.j BELIEVE IN GOD. 15 course to. You know a thousand things to be true, which you can, by no means, account for ; what then hinders you from believing a few more of a nature still more incompre hensible, on the authority of God's word i Why will you discipline your child or servant by hopes and fears, by re wards and punishments, and yet cavil at God for dealing in like manner by his, though you are sensible, that the sensa tions of hope and fear were as certainly made a part ofyour nature by him, as the rest of your passions and desires ? Reason is undoubtedly the ruling principle in man as to every thing that lies open to reason. But there are many things which do not ; which reason, left to herself, can form no idea of. If at any time some knowledge of these should become necessary, what forbids you to receive that know ledge from God, and to close with it as unquestionably true and right, on the authority of his word, if you are sure it is his word ? Your reason, you say, is the only interpreter you have of iis word. True ; but then your reason is only to interpret, not to dictate, not to cavil, not even to demur, when there is no contradiction. You know what is true and false, right and wrong, in some things ; in others you do not. God perfectly knows the distinction in all things. Will you notsubmityour own opinion to his knowledge in somethings? May not that be right in some things, and on some occa sions, which you think wrong ? Nay, may not the giver of all laws, who himself is subject to none, sometimes dispense with laws ofhis own making r If he may not, what will be come of you, who have so often violated his laws, and can have no hope, but in dispensing mercy, for in an atone ment you will not trust ? Besides, consider pray, that the faculty of reason, in dif ferent men, is endued with different degrees of strength, is more or less enlightened, more or less exercised, more or less biassed by their prejudices or passions; yet here as high prerogative is given to the meanest and most fettered un derstanding, as to the best. The reasoning faculty in all men hath suff'ered as great a crush from the fall, as any other faculty of the mind. In most men, the purer powers of the mind, imagination, memory, and judgment, but more espe cially the last, appear but too plainly, to have received a great diminution of their force from the corruption of human 16 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. nature; while the passions and affections have acquired, from the same cause, as great an addition of strength. Men so circumstanced are generally first moved by something which they love or hate, and then judge as they are affected. Hence they unavoidably will, and experience shews us, they actually do, explain the Scriptures in quite opposite senses, especially when they read under the influence of opposite principles, previously espoused ; nay, and r^ad with no other view, than either to rivet themselves in those principles, or to accommodate the Scriptures to them in their own ima ginations. Thus two men shall have two creeds, contra dictory from beginning to end ; and each shall have a right to call his own the true creed, and father it on the word of God, which tells us, there is but ' one faith.' God, no doubt, intended we should make a free use of our reason in reading his word ; which, did we make, we could never materially differ about tbe articles of our faith, which is there set forth as one, and that with sufficient plain ness. But let not every man, call that his reason, which is nothing else but his imagination, or at best his understand ing, working under the guidance of his own favourite opi nions and prejudices, perhaps even his unruly passions and affections. Neither let him dare, even supposing his reason wholly unprejudiced and unbiassed, to say, this doctrine of Scrip ture I will not receive, because it appears unaccountable ; nor that, because it seems unreasonable, for that is the same as to say, the God of truth is not to be believed on his word, unless the poor short-sigthed wretch he speaks to, can de monstrate the consistency of what his Maker utters ; or that the Almighty is not to be obeyed, but when his creature and servant can see sufficient rectitude in his command to make the matter ofit obligatory, though it had never been enjoined. Nay, it is the same as to say, I do believe the Scriptures to be the word of God, but I will only believe such parts of that word, as square with my own judgment. That is, you believe what God says in general, but deliberate on what he says in particular, and sometimes doubt of it or deny it. But know you not, that your reason, as well as your will, is to obey when God speaks ? Does not God command you to believe? And what can the obedience of reason consist in XLVIII.J BELIEVE IN GOD. 17 but in its submission to the infinitely higher wisdom of God ? Or how can this obedience be ever proved or shewn, if you will believe nothing he declares to you, but so far only as you can account for its consistency, or demonstrate its truth? Know, vain man, that faith is obedience, and that, as Christ tells you, ' this is the work of God, thatyou believe on him whom he hath sent.' You profess yourself a Chris tian, but argue here as a Deist. You cannot be both. How ever, as a Deist, tell us, is there nothing too high for your reason in that natural religion, which you plainly prefer to revelation ? Can you tell us, why infinitely communicative goodness suffered one half of eternity (for every moment equally divides it into two) to pass ere any creature was brought into being ? Can you, without revelation, shew how infinite justice consists in the Divine mind with infinite mercy? Are you able to shew, how God certainly foresaw what every man freely does ? The Scriptures apart, are you able to tell us, how it came to pass, that all mankind are cor rupt, wicked, and mortal, although so universally and vio lently attached to happiness and life ? Are you able to prove yourself, either a free, or a necessary agent? Till the diffi culties of natural religion are cleared up by your reason, do not too hastily bring it for a test ofthe revealed. Is it not enough for faith, that God asserts ? Is it not enough for duty, that God commands ? Is not this enough for the faith of a creature, utterly incapable of accounting for any thing ? Is it not enough for the duty of a creature, altogether incapable of subsisting a single moment in a state of independence ? What God says, is sufficiently accounted for by his saying it, and whatsoever he comraands, is suffi ciently authorized by his commanding it. He does not speak to puzzle, nor command merely to shew his power; and therefore all that the understanding and will of the most en lightened man on earth hath to do, when God either asserts or commands, is to believe and obey. Thus thought the patriarch Abraham. He was a hundred years old, and his wife ninety, when God told him, she should bear him a son. On this most amazing declaration, he did not desire God to account either for the possibility, or the means, of performing the promise, which, in those re spects, was perfectly mysterious and unintelligible to him. 18 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [DISC. All he understood, and this he did understand perfectly well, was, that God had promised him a son by Sarah ; that from that son ' a great nation should descend ;' and ' that in his seed,' by that son, ¦ all the nations of the earth should be blessed.' This was all God intended he should apprehend. T?his he did apprehend, and this he firmly believed, his rea son not in the least presuming to interfere any farther, than fully to persuade him, that astonishing as the promise ap peared to be, God was able to perform it, and tbat he would certainly perform it he did most firmly believe, ' and his faith was counted to him for righteousness.' On an infinitely more trying occasion, more shocking to his understanding, and more grating to his most tender affec tions, when God, after all the promises of a numerous pos terity by his son Isaac, commanded him to slay tbat very son with his own hands ; he neither doubted concerning the performance 5f those promises, nor disputed the justice of the command. He never thought of asking, how God's per formance and his obedience could be reconciled. If his reason intermeddled at all with the inscrutable mystery, it was only to satisfy him, that God ' could raise up his son from the dead,' as St. Paul observes, and fulfil the promises in him after his resurrection. The hope of a resurrection was all the relief his faith could possibly afford itself on the bewildering occasion. Yet what sort of a relief was this ? To believe that his son should come to life again! a thing most incredible in itself! that had never yet happened ! that had not (for aught that appears) been ever yet promised ! or if promised, to be performed too late for the hope of posterity ! What now should our libertine Christian, our subtle artist at interpretations, have done, supposing him in Abraham's place ? On his principles, he must at first have denied, that God had given him any such command, because truly he could have had no proof of this so strong, as he hath, that the eternal law of nature is indispensable even by the Deity himself; or that this palpable irapossibility, Isaac shall im mediately die, and yet Isaac shall have a numerous poste rity, could ever be effected. No, he must say, God hath given me reason to judge in all things within the verge of my capacity, and my reason tells me, that if my son, now XLVIII.J BELIEVE IN GOD. 19 childless, is put to death, he never can have any issue, and therefore I must be excused, if I do not believe it is God who promises the issue, and yet comraands the death. Such absurdities my reason cannot digest, nor could God ever re quire it should. Much less can I suppose, the just God should order me to imbrue my hands in the blood of my own innocent son. By the indispensable law, he hath im pressed on my nature, he hath obliged me to cherish and preserve the life of my child. He cannot, therefore, bid me kill him. He cannot give law against law, nor by any reve lation order me to violate that law which binds himself as well as me. ' Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?' And can it be right to command any one to do that which is wrong ? From all this, I conclude, that either I am de ceived in fancying any one hath given me this cruel com mand, or, that thou who hast given it art the true God indeed. But as God could easily refute this conclusion, and prove that he had a right to dispense with the laws imposed on his creatures, and that he himself had actually given the com mand, what then must the libertine Christian do ? Will he obey ? No, his eternal law is not to be dispensed with. He must not even will the deed. All the relief he hath left, is tb screw some other meaning out of the words, which, what it shall be, or how he will manage the matter, he only can tell, who hath often performed exploits as extraordinary of the same kind ; hath, for instance, demonstrated from Scrip ture, directly against the express words of Scripture, that there are more gods than one ; and that we . may . pray to, and worship the creature, even as the Creator. Should he, however, utterly disclaim all shifts of this kind, and declare, that did God appear to him, and actually give him the command in the same words he is said to have given it to Abraham, he would instantly believe and obey ; we then ask him, does he not firmly believe the command was really given ? If he does, what comes of the office he assigns to his reason, whereby, under pretence of only inter preting, he gives her authority to control and dictate to, the word of God ? Is the supremacy he invests her with, more justifiable in any case, for instance, in that of the Trinity, or the incarnation of Christ, than in this ? If in this it is c2 20 RIGHT REASON SAITH, [dISC. perfectly absurd and impious, how can he inaintain it in other doctrines, wherein his principles will be much less distressed for want ofit? Is it at all so difficult, or so seemingly contrary to reason, to believe, that in God, who is infinitely more incomprehen sible in his nature than in his promises or commands, there may be three persons, as it is to believe, that a man who is in stantly to die childless, shall have a numerous issue ; or that the sacrifice of an innocent son by the hands of his own fa ther, can be most highly pleasing in the sight of infinite goodness ? Surely it is not. Yet we see the faith of Abra ham, founded on the promises of God, and his obedience rendered against nature, are repeatedly approved of in the strongest terms by the Holy Ghost, in a case where reason is utterly lost, and where the natural law is directly violated; and why approved ? but because it was God who promised and can perform against all appearances of impossibility; and God who commanded, and ought to be obeyed against every tie of nature, if he requires it. Abraham believed that which to common sense is incredible ; trusted in an event which mere reason pronounces impossible ; performed an action, or willed it, which is naturally unlawful ; and 'his faith was counted to him for righteousness,' because he be lieved in and obeyed God, which rendered his faith rational, and his obedience dutiful. Attend to this, you who call yourself a Christian, and take the Bible for the rule both of your faith and practice, but ' lean, nevertheless, to your own understanding,' as often as that sacred book appears to oppose it. Instead of en deavouring to warp the Bible to your reason, subrait your reason to the Bible, if you really believe it to be the word of God. Strain not for interpretations. Take plain assertions or declarations in their obvious sense. Consider what you read as a revelation, made by God, who knows all things, to you who know but few things, and those perhaps imper fectly, that you may bring your raind to this short infallible conclusion, if God and I differ, I must be in the wrong. Prepare your ear and your understanding for hira who raade, and may be safely trusted with both. ' Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath spoken;' and what he hath spoken, who shall disbe- XLVIII.] BELIEVE IN GOD. 2l lieve or disobey? Shall opinion dispute, shall prejudice contradict, shall passion oppose, or reason sit in judgment, on his words ? No, ' let us commune with our own hearts, and be still,' and know that he is God who speaks. ' Let all the earth keep silence before hira.' He is truth itself, and great is his wisdora ; and therefore he must be believed. His justice is infinite, his power boundless, and "with him is terrible majesty ;' and therefore he must be obeyed. ' Lo ! he doth send forth his voice, and that a mighty voice,' in the holy Scriptures. At the sound of this. voice, our ears have nothing to do, but to listen ; nor our apprehensions, but to conceive his raeaning ; nor our reason, but to believe in the wisdom, truth, and goodness, of all he inculcates or commands. ' God is a sun' to all the world of spirits, and his word is the light of that sun to us. No previous opinions or prejudices must be suffered so rauch as to twinkle in the eyes of our judgment, when this ' sun of righteousness aris eth' upon our minds. No wild passions, nor inordinate aff'ections, nor works of darkness, must presume to shew themselves in this light. No, when this sun ariseth, let these beasts of prey and violence ' lay theraselves down in their dens,' till they are so taraed, that the child of God can lead them. God promised, what reason, blind unpenetrating reason, deems impracticable ; but Abraham believed, and so must we, or ' we tread not in the steps of the faith of our father Abraham.' God commanded, what nature deems unjust and cruel ; but Abrahara obeyed, and so raust we, or our faith, if we have any, will not ' be imputed to us for righteousness.' Let us therefore believe, as he did ; for after all the mys teriousness of some things which we ought to believe, no thing can be more truly rational. Let us also obey, as he did ; for howsoever irksome this obedience raay be to a corrupt and refractory nature, we have reason to know it is our highest wisdora for the present, and will prove our greatest happi ness at the last. It is surely no great thing, after all, to submit our reason so raiserably mistaken, and so shamefully erring, almost in every hour of our lives, to infinite unerring wisdom. Neither is it, if we rightly consider the matter, a very great thing to resign all we have, even the lives of our children, or our own, to that infinitely gracious Being, who 22 RIGHT REASON SAITH, &C. [DISC. hath given up his only-begotten and well-beloved Son, that we may escape the torraents of hell, and inherit the giones of heaven. If any man, however, thinks this is too much for faith to believe, or for duty to perforra, I must tell him now, and God will tell it hira hereafter, that heaven is too good for hira. Let us therefore believe, with all our under standings, what God declares, and obey, with all our hearts, what God coraraands ; for thus to believe is true wisdom, though we can by no raeans account for the matter of our faith ; and thus to obey is our most reasonable service, though it should bear never so hard on our corrupt aff'ec tions. But as there is no eff'ectual faith, no acceptable obedi ence, but what proceeds from thy grace, O Fountain of all good ; so we most earnestly beseech thee, to teach us both to believe and to do whatsoever shail be most pleasing in thy sight, through the merits of Christ Jesus our Redeemer, to whora, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, be all might, raajesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Araen. The grace of, &c. XLIX. J CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH, &C. 23 DISCOURSE XLIX. CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH IN THE HOLY TRINITY. Matt, xxviii. 18—20. Jesu.s came, and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye, thei-efore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you ; and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. In these words of our blessed Saviour, and those reported by St. Mark, chap. xvi. 15, 16, is contained the institution of baptism ; and with it is conveyed to a thinking reader, but briefly indeed, as the nature of the case requires, the whole sura and substance of the Christian religion. The words in St. Mark are these.''J^i' He said unto them (the eleven). Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.' On that fulness of power, both celestial and terrestrial, wherewith our Saviour, after bis resurrection, was vested, he founds, you see, the authority whereby he institutes this holy sacraraent ; and you will soon perceive also, that any less or liraited power had been insufficient for so great a purpose. It is likewise plainly apparent frora the words repeated, that this institution is a covenant ; for salvation is proraised to every man, not absolutely, but on the express condition of his ' believing and being baptized,' and daranation threat ened, in case he shall ' not believe.' It is equally raanifest, that faith is not more necessarily required of all Christians as a condition of this covenant, ¦ than obedience to the commands of Christ, for we are obliged ' to observe and do all things which Christ hath comraanded his apostles.' On the terms of this faith, and of obedience founded on this faith, our almighty Master promises ' to be with us his 24 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dJSC. church alway, even unto the end of the world.' How great the benefits ofhis gracious presence continually vouchsafed to the whole church, and every one of its members, must be, is easily conceived by the mind of a true believer. ' With out him we can do nothing,' nothing at least that is good ; but ' we can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth us,' and ' whose prace is sufficient for us.' If he, to whom ' belongeth all power in heaven and earth, be with us, who shall be against us ?' If he is always with us, then of neces sity must we be always with him, and in him, even here, al though as yet contending with the flesh ; and hereafter, 'where he is, there shall we be also, partakers of his holi ness, of his inheritance,' of the ' divine nature,' and conse quently ofthat rest, that peace, that joy, that crown, which he hath prepared for them that love him. Such are the pro mises, and such the part of God in this covenant. A commission to bestow Christ, and impart eternal sal vation, to all men, requires, you see, unliraited power and authority in him who grants it. None but the Almighty can either forgive us our sins, or fit us for forgiveness. Ac cordingly, it is in the name, and by the authority, of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, that is, of the ever blessed and glorious Trinity, that we are comraanded to be baptized, or received into that covenant of raercy and peace which Christ hath procured for us by, and established in, his precious blood, which he therefore calls ' his blood of the new covenant.' Having thus a little opened the nature of baptism from the words of the institution itself, I intend to lay out the remainder of this Discourse entirely on the forra prescribed by our Saviour for the administration of this sacrament, contained in these particular words, ' in the narae of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,' considered, however, chiefly as applied to this weighty and soleran purpose of the covenant. In order to awaken those who hear me to a fair and dili gent inquiry into the true iraport or meaning of the words mentioned, it will be necessary first to shew the high im portance of that raeaning, be it what it will. After observing to you, that some men, with equal im piety and absurdity, regard the words of this most awful in- XLIX.] IN THI HOLY TRINITY. 25 stitution as little more than words, and a mere empty form, it will be proper to call you, who, I trust, are otherwise minded, to a serious and respectful consideration, that no terms or expressions used by Christ himself, be the occa sion what it will, can possibly contain any thing less than the most important meaning, which the nature of the sub ject, or of the occasion, calls for; and that still, as the dig nity of the occasion rises, so the iraportance of his words, being supposed, as they certainly ought to be, to rise in proportion, demand a suitable degree of attention and ve neration from all who hear or read them. These things feelingly laid to heart, let rae beseech you, in the next place, to consider, what that occasion or pur pose is, to which the words are applied. First, They are applied to that awful covenant, which contains all the rules whereby we are to think, speak, and act, and whereby our consciences are to be regulated, during our whole lives. Every article of the Christian faith, and every duty of the Christian life, being hereby bound on pur consciences in a soleran promise made to God himself, that is, by a deliberate and awful vow, we cannot suppose the very words, which on God's part autho rize this covenant, can be less, than infinitely important. Secondly, The words are applied to that covenant whereby all men are to be judged at the last day, before the throne of God, and in the sight of the whole intelligent creation, for all the thoughts, words, and actions, of their whole lives ; and, of consequence, whereby they are to be adjudged to eternal happiness or misery. No words, used by Christ on such an occasion, can surely be of less than infinite im portance. Thirdly, The words are applied as the essential form, both of institution and administration to that covenant of mercy and peace with an offended God, no otherwise to be appeased, whicli was obtained by the reconciling blood of Christ, the only begotten Son of God himself. If, there fore, justification instead of guilt, and peace, eternal peace, instead of enmity arid war, with Almighty God, can give importance to the covenant itself, the covenant must un doubtedly give equal importance to the very words of its institution. 26 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. Fourthly, Those other words of our Saviour, which ac company these, 'he that bebeveth and is baptized, shall be saved ; and he that believeth not, shall be damned,' raust unquestionably impart to these all their own force and im portance; for nothing can be raore evident, than" that the faith here required raust be a faith in the meaning of these words of the institution, and that he only who believes in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, in whose name he raust be baptized, can be saved. Not only the strict conjunction of this declaration with the fonn of the institution, but the nature also of the thing, fully proves the justness of this assertion, whether we con sider the use made of the form, or the persons mentioned therein. If the very form itself, whereby all the benefits of baptism are formally granted, is not believed, those benefits can, in no sense, be expected, a disbelief of this being the sarae as a renunciation of the covenant. Again, in no sense can any hopes of pardon or salvation be enter tained, without a firm belief in the persons, whose names, and whose joint authority, give the institution itself all its force. Now, it is impossible to believe any thing, but so far as we understand it. In order, therefore, to be so baptized as to receive a title to the privileges and benefits of the Chris tian covenant, all Christians niust know who the Father is, in what sense, and for what reason they are baptized in his narae ; for otherwise, although it is eternal life to believe in him, they cannot possibly believe in him as they ought to do. Who the Son is they ought likewise to know, not only because they are baptized in his narae, but because they are, in a peculiar sense, baptized into him, that is, into his body the church, and into his death. He who knows uot these things, how can he be said to believe in the Son ? And lastly, who the Holy Ghost is, every Christian ought to know, both because he is baptized in his narae, as well as in those of the two other persons, and likewise because It IS by him we are all baptized into one body of Christ ' and baptisrn Itself can avail nothing, if it is not the true baptism of the Spirit, through whose sanctification God hath chosen us from the beginning to salvation.' It is hi the adoption of the Spirit, sealed to us in baptism, thaf J We XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 27 call God our Father ; and therefore no man can rightly believe, or be effectually baptized, without knowing who the Holy Spirit is. If the apostles, and after them the whole Christian mi nistry, were obliged by the express coraraand of Christ to ' teach all nations,' and then (but not till then) ' to baptize them ;' were they not, of all things, to teach thera what baptism or the covenant is, what it is into which they were to be baptized, and who they are in whose name the cove nant is granted, and to whose service they are thereby so soleranly consecrated and sealed ? But farther, it is by no raeans sufficient for a Christian to know only that the ' Father is he frora whora are all things ;' that the ' Son is he by whom we are redeeraed ;' and the ' Holy Ghost he, by whom we are sanctified;' that is, to know these three persons in their offices relative to mankind ; no, the Christian ought to understand in what sense it is that baptisra is instituted and administered jointly in the name of all the three ; whether, as they are here joined together without any raarks of distinction, he ought to believe in all the three equally, and receive the covenant with equal respect to, and trust in, all the three ; whether he, in effect, covenants by baptism with one only, or three parties ; whether he is to worship each by prayer, thanksgiving, love, and dependence, or not ; and if he is, whether he ought to regard one of thera only as God, or the three as three distinct Gods, or all the three, as consti tuting one only God. And the reason why his faith ought to be built on no less knowledge than this, is plain, not only because the Scriptures have made frequent and ample declarations on all these subjects, for his inforraation; but because, without knowing these things, he raay worship that for God, which is but a creature, or treat that as a creature only, which is really God ; or whether he is to believe in one only, or tbree Gods, may be altogether at a loss to know. As sorae of the errors just now raentioned are most abominably idolatrous, and the rest horribly pro fane ; and as either the one sort or the other are fitted to lead the world into all manner of wickedness ; we may conclude, in the first place, that the word of God must be very plain and determinate on such subjects ; and in the 28 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. next, that it is our indispensable duty, fairiy and diligently to exaraine it, in order to a thorough information in points, wherein the whole systera of that faith, that worship, and that obedience, to which we are bound by our baptismal vow, is founded. On the whole, it cannot be less than absolutely necessary,- that all Christians, that is, all who by baptism take on them the profession of Christianity, should know the Fa ther, from whora they, the whole universe, and the true religion itself, derive their very being ; that all Christians should know the Son, or ' Christ, and hira crucified,' and that they should, with St. Paul, ' count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus their Lord ;' and that all Christians should know the Holy Spirit, by whom the prophets, apostles, and even Christ himself, wrought all their miracles, who inspired all the penmen of the holy Scriptures, and who, by his grace, regenerating and sanctifying the whole church, finishes the great work of salvation. Having said enough to prove the importai>ce of this knowledge, and to shew the necessity of it, in order to baptism and the Christian covenant, it is now time to shew, in the second place, what it is, and who those persons really are, in whose name we are baptized. It is agreed on all hands, that the first is true, real, and eternal God, and that God, or the divine nature, is incora prehensible. But whether, either the second or the third person, is as truly and really God, or not, is disputed. Had nothing farther been revealed in holy Scripture con cerning these two persons but what is intimated in the form of bapiisra, we must have concluded, that as to the mere act of covenanting, we ought to judge the authority of all the persons to be equal in that act, since they are mentioned simply, and without any marks of distinction, in the form it self. If a covenant is raade between three contracting par ties, thus simply mentioned, on the one side, and a single party on the other, the last will never be able to see any rea son in such covenant for his depending more on any one of the three for the perforraance, than on the other two ; if this covenant is a voluntary grant given in the joint name of all the three, whereby the other single party is to hold a va- XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 29 luable title, or enjoy considerable privileges, that single party thus endowed, will never be able to see any reason, why he should think himself more obliged in gratitude to love any one of the three, than the other two. And farthe, if in consideration of this tithe, and these privileges, he is by virtue of the covenant bound to any services, thus sim ply contracted for in behalf of all the three, he will never be able, from the tenor of such a covenant, to see a reason, why he should serve or obey any one of the three parties, pre ferably to the rest. This reasoning would be sound and just, although the covenant should run plurally in the naraes of three persons granting and covenanting on the one part; but grows still stronger when it is expressed singularly in the name of all the three, for, in this case, either a unity of nature or autho rity, or rather of both, as it is irrational and impious to ad mit the one in this case without the other, infers a unity of gratitude, love, dependence, and obedience, that is, one wor ship, due from the other covenanting party, to all. It is farther to be observed, that as the authority where by we are baptized into this covenant is one, and the name also whereinto we are baptized (such is the expression in the original Greek) is one name, so consequently, in plain construction, that name ought to stand for one being, that one being which constitutes the first and second persons, John X. 30, and includes the third, naraely, ' the Spirit of the Father,' Matt. x. 20, and ' the Spirit of the Son,' Gal. iv. 6, ' which three are one,' 1 John v. 7. If therefore the Christian covenant is the gift of God, who can neither deceive, nor be deceived, all persons who are baptized, are taught by the form of the covenant itself, to render to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, an equal degree of dependence, love, and obedience, unless what is not distinguished in the forra, is plainly distin guished elsewhere in the word of God. If such distinction is not elsewhere made, it will follow frora the authoritative form of the covenant itself, given by God himself, either that the. Son and the Holy Ghost are, each of them, true and real God, or that the true and real God hath soleranly authorized the worship of two creatures upon a level with himself, because, for any thing that appears in the covenant. 30 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. the dependence, love, and obedience contracted for in that covenant, must be equal in kind and degree, must be the very same, and must be the highest that can possibly be paid, inasmuch as they are confessedly due frora all Chris tians, by virtue of the covenant itself, to the true and real God. To ascribe a covenant like this to the God of all ma jesty and truth, whereby God and two creatures are to be believed in, loved, obeyed, and worshipped on a level, is, I think, as high an instance of absurdity and blasphemy in one, as the eneray of God could inspire. But,- to avoid the wickedness of supposing, that God, contrary to his own declaration, hath actually ' given his honour to another,' to two others, to two creatures, and ' coraraanded all men to honour the Son, even as they honour the Father,' though infinitely different in dignity of nature ; it will be our busi ness carefully to inquire, whether these scriptural expres sions are not to be taken in the coramon obvious sense of the words; whether the terms, ' God,' and 'worship,' when applied to the Father and the other persons, are equivocal; and whether the Father hath any where in his word, either from himself, or by his Son, or, his Holy Spirit, taught us to make the important and necessary distinction between his own divine, and their created natures, and be tween the love, dependence, and worship, which we ought to pay to him alone, and the respect he allows us to pay to two of his creatures so highly dignified. I call this an ira portant distinction, because, of all things, we ought to know the object of divine worship; and I call it a necessary dis tinction, because, without it, we might be terapted 'to turn the truth of God into a lie, and to worship the creature,' ra ther than ' the Creator.' Now nothing was easier than for the Scriptures to tell us, once for all, that although Christ and the Holy Ghost are set forth in very exalted lights by revelation, yet we are to know, that neither of them is God, nor to be worshipped by prayer as God ; or at least, that they are but inferior delegated Gods, and to be worshipped only as such, only as raere representatives of the one true and suprerae God. This would have prevented all doubts and disputes on the raost iraportant point by far of our whole religion ; and this, I say it again, and beg it may be well considered, was as easy as it was absolutely necessary. XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 31 If therefore neither the second nor the third person in the Trinity is God, nor to be worshipped as true and real God, the Scriptures must roundly and plainly tell us so, or they cannot be the word of God, for ' God neither deceiveth, nor tempteth any man.' I beg it may be farther considered, that as mankind, from the beginning, and throughout all ages, have been wonderfully prone to worship the creature, as well as, or even more, than the Creator ; and as God, throiighout the Scriptures, hath left no expedient unemployed to pre vent this unhappy and daranable apostacy of men ; we might by all means expect to find the characters of the Son and the Holy Spirit, supposing them only creatures, set forth in those Scriptures in the lowest lights their real natures could with truth admit of, rather than in such as are too high. Yet here, in the very institution of baptisra, in the soleran form of the new covenant, in that strict and guarded form of words whieh introduces .us to, and coraprehends the whole of the Gospel, they are, set forth as equal with the Father, equal in authority, equal in their respective contri butions to the work of our salvation, and consequently as equal objects of our faith, our gratitude, our love, and our adoration ; and in other parts of Scripture are frequently styled God. •But if, after all,' there is any room left for doubt about this matter, to the Scriptures at large we ought to go for the farther explanation of a form so short, that we may see, whether their Divine Author hath therein actually repre sented the three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, as one only God ; or given us reason to believe that we have in ba.ptisra covenanted for forgiveness of sins, and eternal salvation, equally with God and two creatures, with the one only infinite Being, and two infinitely inferior beings, and that by the express appointmsnt of God hiraself. Now, it is evident, at first sight, to every Deist, and in deed to every thinking Christian, that God could not possi bly have done the latter; and his word, if candidly consulted, will glaringly prove, he hath actually done the forraer. We shall readily own indeed, that Christ frequently ¦speaks of himself, and -is spoken of by the apostles as subor dinate, and in some sense, inferior to the Father. But, at the sarae time, nothing can be more plain, than that he is 32 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. only subordinate, as every son should be to his father, and only inferior in respect to his human nature. This hath been a thousand times fully proved ; but we shall see pre sently, that it needs no proof. We likewise as freely confess, that the Holy Ghost is soraetimes spoken of in Scripture, with raarks of subordina tion, as sent by the Father and the Son, and as not speaking of himself, but speaking whatsoever he heareth, and as taking that which belongeth to Christ, and shewing it unto the dis ciples. That these things derogate by no means from his nature, but only shew that he acts voluntarily in subordina tion to the Father, the fountain of the Godhead, and to Jesus Christ, the proprietor, by right of purchase, of all things, hath been often clearly proved, though here again I venture to say, there was no necessity for such proof; for. In respect both to the Son and the Holy Ghost, it is to be observed, first, that the holy Scripture nowhere denies either of thera to be God ; and secondly, that, in many places, it affirms each of them to be God. If that can be made appear, then it will follow, that no obscure or indirect expression, though found in the same Scriptures, can be so interpreted, as to prove either of them not to be God, in contradiction to the plain and positive affirmations of God ; it will also from hence appear, that the equality wherewith they seera to be proposed in the forra of baptisra, is a true and real equality, both of nature and authority. If it shall likewise be proved, that the word of God denies the being of any God, or any object of divine worship, but one, whora raankind may fall down before, and to whora they raay offer sacrifice or prayer ; then it will necessarily follow, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, are not three distinct Gods, but one only God ; and lastly, itwill necessarily follow frora the express affirmation of God, and frora his positive institution of baptism, that we are consecrated, in that so lemn sacrament, to the service of the ever blessed and holy Trinity, by faith in a mystery which we raay easily under stand, so far as it is proposed to our apprehensions, but can never account for, because the divine nature is incompre hensible to all created rainds. Whosoever hath so much sense, not to say modesty, as to confess that God is incom prehensible to his mind, will find no difficulty in a conse- XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 33 quent confession, that there may be some distinction in God, whereto the personal distinction among raen bears a just analogy or resemblance ; nay, and that ifa man, as the Scripture tells us, is made in the image or likeness of God, and if in each raan, as raay be easily demonstrated, there are a bodily and vegetative nature, enlivened by two souls, an animal and a rational, united into one person ; there may be in God three distinct persons, or, which is the same thing in respect to our faith, a distinction like that between three raen, without affecting in the least the unity of the one indivisible divine nature. Now if the Scriptures any where deny the Son or the Holy Ghost to be God, let the opposers of their divinity shew the passage, and we have done]; but this is irapossible. On the contrary, that the Scriptures represent the Son as God, is manifest, and the Arians do not, cannot deny it. St. Paul says, Rom. ix, 5, ' he is over all, God blessed for ever.' St. John calls him, the 'Word,' and says, i. 1, 'the Word was God.' Christ, John viii. 58, calls himself 'Jehovah,' and in the first of the Revelations saith, ' I am Alpha and Oraega, the first and the last.' Now, as none but one can say this, he who says it here, must be the same with hira who says, Isaiah xliv. 6, ' I ara the first and the last, and beside me there is no God. To us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we in him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him,' 1 Cor. viii. 6; but then this one God is the only Lord, and this one Lord the only God; for Moses, Deut. vi. 4, and Christ, Mark xii. 29, say alike to Jews and Christians, 'Hear, O Israel; the Lord our God is one Lord.' This text, wherein St. Paul distinguishes between the Father, who is one God, and the Son, who is one Lord, gives no true occasion to the Arian of that triuraph which he makes in his application of it. If the Father is called one God, though without an article in the Greek before hi; Oeoe, and the Son, one Lord, without an article before il(; Kvpiog, we claira no advantage from it; but do believe the Father to be the one God, and the Son to be the one Lord, for there is but one God, and one Lord ; nay, we go fartlier, and allow, that the Father is peculiarly here styled, the one God, and the Son, as peculiarly, the one Lord. But whe- VOL. III. D 34 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. ther the Father and the Son are hereby contradistinguished from each other, so as that, negatively, the Father is not Lord, nor the Son God, in the same sense of God and Lord, is the question which must be decided by other places of Scripture ; and others there are many, wherein the Father is called Lord, and the Lord, and the one Lord; and wherein the Son is called God, the God, and the one God. 'Who is God, or Elohim, save the Lord or Jehovah?' saith David, Psalm xviii. 31 ; the answer is, and must be, none, no being. ' The Lord he is God in heaven above, and upon the earth beneath : there is none else, no other God. So then, the one Lord is the one God.' This is the language of both Testaments, of the law as well as of the gospel, in more than one hundred and fourteen places, where the great Being is called the Lord God, and often in direct distinction from all other beings. This blasphemous con tradistinction is wholly taken away by our blessed Saviour, Mark xii. 29, quoting Deut. vi. 4, in answer to one of the scribes, who asked hira this important question, ' Which is the first commandraent of all ?' Christ says, ' The first of all the coramandraents is. Hear, O Israel ; the Lord our God is one Lord :' and, ver. 30, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength : this is the first coramand ment.' And, ver. 31, ' The second is like. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: there is none other com mandraent greater than these. On these two command ments hang all the law and the prophets.' Matt. xxii. 40. In this great and signal passage, the summary of law and gospel, wherein the foundation-stone of all religion and mo rality is laid, wherein the two objects of all love, and con sequently the sole object of all acceptable adoration, is fixed and precisely determined, wherein distinctions, if at all re quisite, become absolutely necessary, no distinction between the Lord and the God is made, but on the contrary, the one Lord is raade the same with the one God, and the Lord our God is set forth to us as the one only Lord, the one only self-existent Being, or Jehovah, the one only Lord or power, to whom all love and obedience is due. If then Christ is pecuharly styled the one Lord, as the Arian acknowledges, nay, insists he is, by St. Paul, what hinders the same Arian -KLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 35 from confessing, that Christ is the one God, since the law, the gospel, and Christ himself, have said it? conceit and blindness. A cloud of other passages might be cited for the same purpose, but any one of these had been enough. Indeed his saying, as he does at the institution of bap tism, that * all power in heaven and in earth is given unto him,' is sufficient to prove his divinity ; for if all power is given him as an only son, and as the son of raan, by the Father, and we therefore conclude him in some sense sub ordinate, we must thence also conclude him truly God, for otherwise he could not, in any sense, become almighty. This conclusion is greatly strengthened, by the words with which he finishes the institution, ' Lo, I am with you to the end of the world,' where he evidently sets himself forth as the Jehovah, the one necessarily and self-existent Being, as well as in the eighth of the Gospel according to St. John, where he saith, ' Before Abraham was, I ara ;' for no other, but the one self-existent Being, can properly and truly speak of himself in the present tense, as having heretofore been, and as hereafter to be. Well, surely may we be baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus, since thereby the 'devil or eneray is cast out,' Mark xvi. 17, 'remission of sins* preached, Luke xxiv. 47, ' and salvation given, with an exclusion to all other names under heaven,' Acts iv. 12. That the same Scriptures represent the Holy Ghost as God, is also manifest ; for, although none but God is eternal, yet the third person is called, Heb. ix. 14, ' the eternal Spi rit.' The Psalmist believed him to be omnipresent ; for he says, speaking to God, Psalm cxxxix. 7, ' Whither shall I go from thy spirit ?' He is called ' the power of the Highest,' Luke i. 35. ' All Scripture,' we know, ' is given by inspira tion of God,' 2 Tim. iii. 16, who must therefore be the Holy Ghost, because 'the holy men of God,' who penned the Scriptures, ' spake as they were raoved by the Holy Ghost, ' 2 Pet. i. 21. And Zacharias calls him, who spake by these penmen or prophets, ' the Lord God of Israel,' Luke i. 68 — 70. ' Well spake the Holy Ghost,' says St. Paul, ' by Isaias the prophet,' and then quotes a passage frora Isaiah, wherein the speaker is called ' the Lord' by Isaiah, and ' the Lord (or Jehovah) of hosts by the Seraphira.' St. Paul calls all d2 36 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. Christians the ' temples ofthe living God,' because ' the Spi rit of God dwelleth in them,' 2 Cor. vi. 16, compared with 1 Cor. iii. 16, and with I Cor. vi. 19, where our body is called ' the temple of the Holy Ghost, which dwelleth in us.' St. Peter says, 'Ananias in having lied to the Holy Ghost, had lied to God,' Acts v. 3, 4. St. Paul, 2 Cor. iii. 15- 17, descanting on Exod. xxxiv. 34, calls the Lord, or only God, there spoken of, 'the Spirit,' whose ' ministration,' he says, ' is glorious.' If the Lord is that Spirit, then the Spirit is that Lord, and the one only God, for ' to us there is but one God,' and • one Lord,' as I have already observed to you from the words of St. Paul in the former epistle to these Corinthians. Now, the one God is the one only Lord, and the one Lord is the one only God, as you have just now heard from the words of Moses quoted by our blessed Saviour. This is exactly agreeable to the words of David, who expressly calls ' the Spirit the God of Israel,' 2 Sara, xxiii. 2, 3. ' The Spirit of the Lord spake by me ; the God of Israel said.' Well surely may we be baptized in the name of the Holy Ghost or Spirit, since Christ himself was baptized by hira, Mark i. 10; since " without his baptism we cannot enter into heaven,' John iii. 5; and since ' by this one Spirit we are all baptized into one body,' 1 Cor. xii. 13, naraely, the body or church of Christ, ver. 27.* * From the twelfth to the eighteenth verse inclusive, of the fortieth chapter of Isaiah, as the whole passage stands in the Hebrew and onr English version, a full and clear proof, that tlie Holy Spirit is God, might be drawn, did not the Septuagint and St. Paul seem to oppose it. In this very remarkable part of the prophecy, im mediately after expressly calling the Messiah, the Lord God, and describing his future ofiice as the great Shepherd, God, by his prophet, saith, ' Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with a span, &c. 1 Who hath directed the Spirit(rTn Roah)of the Lord, or being his counsellor, hath tangbt him, Sid ]Behold, he taketh up the isles as a very little thinif, &c. All nations before him are as nothing, and they are counted to him, or in hb presence, less than nothing.' From these awful and emphatical questions God draws this conclusion - ' To whom then will ye liken God 1 or what likeness will ye compare unto him ?' that is, since the Spirit of the Lord is infinite in wisdom, power, and greatness, how can you think of representing God by images, or comparing any thing to him ? From hence God proceeds to expostulate with mankind : ' Have ye not known, &c.? Have ye not understood from the foundations of the earth? It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, &c. that stretcheth out the heavens as a cnrtam, and spreadeth them out as a toit to dwell in. To whom then -will ye liken me, or shall I be equal ' saith the Holy One.' The reasoning, we see, turns alike on the Spirit, and on God, therefore so much of it as relates to the Spirit must be inconclusive, if the Spirit is not God. Rom. But St. Paul, quoting a small part of this passage from the Septuagint, saith, n. Ki. 34, • Who hath known the mind of the Lord, or who hath been hb couni XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 37 In these, and other the like passages of Scripture, divi nity is both directly and by necessary consequence ascribed to the second and third persons in the Holy Trinity. And yet the same Scriptures sufficiently assure us, there is but one God, who is the sole object of that divine worship, to which those Scriptures allow any toleration. ' Is there, saith the Lord,' Isa. xlv. 5, 6, 'a God besides me ? yea, there is no God, I know not any. I am the Lord, and there is none else ; there is no God besides me : that they raay know frora the rising of the sun and frora the west, that there is none besides me^ I ara the Lord, and there is none else. I am he ; I am the first, I also am the last.' lsa. xlviii. 12. ' Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of Hosts ; I am the first, and I am the last, besides rae there is no God. Unto thee (Israel) it was shewed,' saith Moses, Deut. iv. 35, ' that thou raightest know, that the Lord he is God, there is none else besides him. I, sellor?' and 1 Cor. ii. 16, ' ForwIio hath known the mind of tlie Lord, that he may instruct him,' or rather, ' that sliall instruct him?' By this means the sense seems to be considerably different from lliat which is universally understood to be con tained in the Hebrew. Be the sense, however, of thc passages what it will, it must unquestionably be the true sense of the Hebrew ; for here the Holy Ghost, citing the Septuagint version, confirms its rectitude, and is hiraself an infalUble interpreter lo us. "Eyvcii, hath known, and vouv mind, are tlie only words, which appear to break in on this argument for the divinity of tlie Holy Ghost. Grotius hath observed on Isaiah xl. 13, that probably the Septuagint, by tyvto, meant scire feeit, made to know, adding his opinion, that St. Paul used the word in the same sense, and that what follows in this passage of Isaiali, and we may say loo, in that of St. Paul, c.tplains the word in, or rather restrains it to this sense, for even the apostle subjoins, ' or vvho hath been his counsellor?' On the word vovv, mind, a still farther occasion of doubting luay be taken, as raind and spirit seem here to differ in signifi cation. But I would ask, wherein do thc spirit and mind of theLord, or God, differ ? Are they not one and the same? And may not this word havc been used here by Ihc Septuagint and St. Paul, instead of ineii/A.a., with an eye to Ihe third person in thc Platonic Trinity, as well as Xoyoc is used by St. John in regard to the second? St. Paul's introduction of tliese words, and the context in the Epistle to the Koiuaiis. particularly, ' who hath been his counsellor?' and the words, ' or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again ?' found in the Ale.Kandrian Ma nuscript, but not in tho common copies, seem to favour that construction. 'Eyvai nZii, iil his application of them to the Corinthians, may bear either sense, jxTliaps may require both. He says so much of Ihe Spirit of God, as knowing the things of God, as dwelling in us and teaching us those Ihings, that nothing can be more natural, than to translate volv by spirit. Were we nevertheless lo undcrslaiul the apostle as saying nothing in either of these places, but what the English translation plainly and simply intimates, we must acknowledge the accommodation hore is not greater tlian ill some other texts of the Old Testament, as they are cited in the Neiv. Neither, after all, interpret these words as you will, can that interpretation destroy the force and tenor of niy argument, built on the passage of Isaiah, wherein so much is said, over and above tliese, of the spirit or mind of the Lord, uf his power, wisdom, and greatness, and wherein the argument drawn from those attributes concludes as di rectly for the impossibility of re|irC5cnting God hy images, as if God had been put for mind, ur spirit, in the thirteenth verse, that wc cannot, witliout thc impiety of admitting a solecism in God's own words, avoid the force uf the pruuf. 38 CHRISTIAN FAITH IS FAITH [dISC. even I, saith the Lord,' Deut. xxxii. 39, 'am he, and there is no God with me,' that is, ' no other God. Nor can there be with us, if we are truly Christians ; for St. Paul says, 'to us,. there is but one God,' 1 Cor. viii. 6. And our blessed Saviour, quoting the law. Matt. iv. 10, saith, ' Get thee hence, Satan ; for it is written. Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve,' pursuant to the first commandment; whereon all religion and morality are founded, and wherein the same Lord or God saith, ' Thou shalt have none other gods before me.' Since, therefore, the Father is, on all hands, acknow ledged to be God ; since the Son and the Holy Ghost are plainly spoken of in holy Scripture as God; since there is but one only God, one only object of divine faith, worship, and obedience ; and since here in the form of baptism the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, are proposed, without any distinction, as equal authors and parties to the covenant, and as equal objects of our faith, love, dependence, and obe dience ; it necessarily follows, that the Father, the Son, and theHoly Ghost, are that one only God, one, not only in name, authority, and testimony, but in nature and substance also; for each is God, and there is but one God, ' who is a jealous God; and giveth not his glory,' the peculiar glory of bis divinity and worship, ' to another.' But the Arians and Socinians tell us, the word, God, in Scripture, hath several meanings. Two or three, we confess, it hath, for it is applied to the true God, to potentates, and to false gods. But can these men shew us, that it is applied in two infinitely different meanings, that is, that it signifies indiff"erently, either the one infinite eternal God, or a finite and bounded creature, when it signifies the object of our adoration ? They do, indeed, impiously attempt to shew this, and in so doing, only atterapt to shew, that God pre varicates witb the world on the very first article of all reli gion, and equivocates even on his own name ; the former, in the words of a covenant of his own solemn proposing to all mankind ; and the latter, in his first commandment, and in numberless other passages of his word. What success they have had, I leave it to the knowing ; or what success hey ought to have had, I leave it to every plain and honest Christian to judge. XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 39 It is now to be observed, that the Christian religion, and the Christian covenant, are but one and the same thing; that the whole of this religion, the whole body of our faith, by which alone we can be saved, is virtually, or by necessary consequence, comprehended in the form prescribed for bap tism, or the ratification ofthis covenant ; for he who believes in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, must believe in what each hath done,^ said, or suffered, for his salvation ; that there is no difference between knowing God, as he is revealed to us in his word, and knowing his revealed religion ; and that therefore, as Christianity is the only true religion, the doctrine of the Trinity, as here laid down frora Scripture, must be the only true Christianity ; or else we covenant in baptism for something diff'erent from Christianity, or only for a part of it ; and covenant by our faith, and on our vows, for the pardon of all our sins, and for eternal life, with some one else than God. Let the Arian answer for this, if he can, to his friend the Deist, and if he satisfies hira, we pro mise to be satisfied too. But let no set of men who call themselves Christians, contrive systeras of Christianity, and carry on arguments within the church, which in their consciences they know, every one without raust condemn as gross nonsense, or soraething worse. What then is Christianity ? Is it not a covenant granted by, and raade with, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, whereby all we ought to dread may be averted, and all we ought to desire^obtained, on condition of our faith in, and obedience to, the Holy Trinity? and is all Christianity, or the whole of our religion, summed up in a faith placed for mally and equally on the one eternal God, and two infinite ly inferior beings, and in an obedience, rendered due by a solemn vow to the only God, and two creatures ? If ours is the only religion that seeras to recoraraend itself to the as sent of a rational raan by the genuine signs of divine truth ; and if this religion, closely exarained in its great essential, proves itself thus essentially absurd and impious ; mustnot the Arian become a Deist, and that Deist an Atheist ? Rea son, thus setting out, knows not where to stop in the shock ing progress. Let the world think what it will of our reli gion, it consists in a belief of the Father, the Son, and the 40 CHKISIIAN FA IUI IS FAITH [dISC Holy Ghost, as one only God, one only object of love, de pendence, and obedience, that is of divine worship. The great and corafortable doctrines of redemption, as voluntarily wrought by Christ in the sucrifice of his blood, and of sanctification, as voluntarily wrought in us by the grace of the Holy Spirit, which call upon the grateful heart for the utmost retums of !ove and trust ; these doctrines, every where so strongly inculcated by the word of God, prove the Son and the Holy Ghost to be truly God ; for, surely, if they thus freely concur in the blessed work ofour eternal salvation, we ought in gratitude to love each of them as much as the Father, that is, with all our hearts, with all our souls, and with all our strength ; and being baptized into the name of each, as the uncompelled author ofour sal vation, we ought to trust to each for the performance of every thing promised us in the covenant, as well as to the Father. Now, is it to be conceived, that God, who every where takes such infinite care to guard against the worship of the creature, should authorize us by the very form of the covenant, by tbe very nature of our redemption and sancti fication, and by the concurring tenor of almost the whole Scriptures, to love, trust in, and adore, two creatures, as entirely, as ardently as himself? No, it is irapossible; itis hideous and blaspberaous to suppose it. Hear, O Christian, the ' Lord thy God is,' not only ' one God the Father, of whom are all things,' but also • one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things,' and into whom you are baptized ; and ' that one Spirit who taketh away the vail of darkness' by his inspirations, to whom you ' owe all your Christian liberty, and by whom ye are all baptized into one body of Christ.' Is, therefore, yonr love and confidence to be divided ? God forbid. These three are one; one, not only in nature and substance, but likewise in love, in raercy, in truth, to wards you. He is one God who hath created, redeemed, and sanctified you, and into whora ye are baptized. Him bless, him adore, as not more raystical and incomprehensible in his nature, than in his love. Ifyou are a truly rational man, you cannot make a diffi culty in believing tbe raost ray.sterious doctrine on the au thority of his word, for you know he is truth itself This I XLIX.J IN THE HOLY TRINITY. 41 say to you the rather because 4ie hath used you to rayste ries, by giving you a nature exceedingly raysterious, and by placing you here in a system of tnysteries. You see, you breathe, you eat, you drink, you live on, nothing but myste ries ; mysteries, every one of them, as hard to be accounted for or coraprehended as the Trinity. While he gives a dig nity to your nature by thus feeding and surrounding you with wonders, remeraber, he, at the same time, and by the same raeans, preaches huraility to your bounded understand ing, inasmuch as he hath raade it impossible for you to comprehend, either what you yourself are, or how you are subsisted. Can you, after all this, stumble at any thing merely rays terious in regard to his nature, who is altogether mysteri ous and incoraprehensible to the highest angel of light? Is it harder for your reason to believe in the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, than it was for that of Abrahara to believe, that he should bave a nuraerous posterity by his son Isaac after he had put him to death, when he was yet unmarried and childless ? Or is it harder for you, in consequence of your faith in the Trinity, to subrait your inordinate affections to the several precepts of the gospel, in order to eternal life, than it was for Abraham to give up his parental affection, pursuant to the divine command, and slay his son with his own hands on the distant, and probably incomprehensible, prospect of having an innumerable issue bya son at that in stant to be cut off"? Consider, if you cannot follow Abra ham, although at so great a distance, in his faith, you cannot follow him in his practice, the effect of that faith ; and if you can neither imitate the faith nor works of Abraham, you cannot be one of his children, who is the father of all the faithful ; norcan you be gathered into his bosora, when you leave this world. Consider this, and God give you understanding in all things, through Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whom, in the unity of the ever-blessed Trinity, be all raight, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. 42 CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC- DISCOURSE L. [preached on EASTER SUNDAY.] CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. Acts xvii. 31. He hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteous ness, by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assur ance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead. Two things are more especially observable in these words, first, that God will, at a certain time, known only to him self, try and pass sentence on all men by his Son Christ Jesus ; and secondly, that sufficient assurance of this his intention hath been published to all men by the resurrec tion of Christ from the dead. As to the rewards or punish raents to which, on that occasion, we shall be doomed, they are represented in many other parts of Scripture in terras expressive of soraewhat inconceivably desirable or dreadful, which is never to have an end. It would not only prevent all possibility of virtue, but throw every community into confusion, were each man tried, sentenced, and rewarded, or punished, immediately upon every good or evil action. In all kingdoms and com raunities, therefore, stated times are appointed for this purpose. In the kingdom of God particularly, men are suff'ered to live such lives as they think fit, with very mo derate temporal encouragements to virtue, and discourage raents to vice ; and sometimes, in appearance, the contrary, till death finishes their state of trial. After this, assurance is given, that they shall be raised again to life, as Christ was, and shall all appear before his judgment-seat, that every ' one raay receive the things done in his body, accord ing to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.' This is the great assize of God's kingdom, wherein all L.J BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 43 men shall be tried by unerring wisdom, sentenced by divine justice, and rewarded or punished according to their deeds. The good man under oppression may think it long to wait till that day for justice ; but this he is to consider as the trial of his faith, and the exercise of his patience. The bad man may encourage himself in his wickedness by the distance of that time ; but ' the triumphing of the wicked shall be short ;' for, at most, it can last no longer than his life; and what wiU that be to the length of his punishment? God in his wisdom defers tihe reward of the good, tbat his virtue inay be perfected and known ; and in his mercy, tlie punishraent of the guilty, that he may have time to repent. Sometimes, however, he interposes by judgTuents on the one, or blessings on the other, which shew, his eye and hand are always over us. As, for certain reasons too well and too comraonly un derstood to require being told you on this occasion, the doctrine I have here laid down is much more apt to terrify than to please ; so there are some that refer the whole of our rewards to the pleasure we find in doing good, and of our punishments, to the distaste and uneasiness we perceive in doing evil actions. These, they say, prevent the neces sity of future rewards and punishments, and do araple justice on the spot in regard to all parts of our moral behaviour. If God and the king wonld be pleased to declare this, that is, would they be pleased to assure us, that hencefor ward for ever no sort of notice shall be taken of what any man shall think, speak, or do, in regard to God, his neigh bour, or hiraself; it would certainly save a great deal of trouble to law-makers and judges, and would be fine news, not only to the thief and raurderer, who still dread the gal lows, but also to the defenders of this notion, and to all legal oppressors, tricksters, drunkards, whoremongers, and hypocrites, who fear the future judgments of God, but could settle matters with themselves on a comfortable enough footing, had they nothing to deal with but their own con sciences. The news, howerer, would not be so welcome to a good man, who would not, or to a weak and poor man, who could not, take advantage ofit ; the news, I mean, that 44 CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC. all the rest of the worid is to be let loose on them with im punity. But let conscience tell the truth, and say, whether her decisions are always just ; whether she is not for the most part overpovrered by the pleasure proposed in doing evil, or enjoyed in reflection after it is done ; and whether, if divine justice, heaven, hell, and human laws, were out of the ques tion, her rewards would be equal to the glorious deeds and sufferings of some good men, or her punishments adequate to the horrible crimes of others. I utterly deny that a raan of no hopes in another life could possibly persevere in doing good, even to death, in spite of all a tyrant could do to him by his raost barbarous persecutions. But supposing the hopeless hath already done it, will any one in his senses say, he hath been sufficiently rewarded ? For my part, I think, instead of being rewarded, he is severely punished, for doing good. Poor virtue ! if she can no better encourage her most zealous votaries ! On the other hand, this tyrant, without fears in futurity, would soon, perhaps iraraediately, after the raurder raentioned, eat, drink, and laugh as usual ; for we see he does so, although under sorae fears of a future reckoning. Nay, we see hira in a few hours so perfectly easy, and, soon after that, so apt to boast of what be did, perhaps to repeat it, and even to build a prosperous scheme of worldly wealth and honour upon it, that we cannot help saying, if there is no judgment to come, he is rewarded for being wicked. Whatsoever tnay be said to prove that virtue rewards her self, yet I can never think, vice, if she could help it, would be willing sufficiently to punish herself; the character of her impartiality is not so thoroughly established. On the contrary, when she is hampered with a troublesome con science, instead of turning executioner on herself, she is infinitely more apt to shelter one sort of wickedness in having recourse to another. Drunkenness, of all vices, re prieves the greatest number of crirainals, and is very chari table to the rest of the confederacy. Rewards, however, should be conferred, and punishments inflicted, not so much for the sake of justice in regard to what is past, as with an eye to the encouragement of good. L.J BY THE BESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 45 and the prevention of bad actions in time to come. In this respect, the mere rewards and punishments of reflection, when religion is out of the case, are still more deficient than in regard to justice itself. How little is to be hoped from such reflections in order to the reforraation of him who may, or may not raake thera, we have already considered ; and as to the reforraation of others, that is wholly out of the question. The pleasure a man takes in doing good, and the reraorse he feels on doing evil, are generally known only to himself, and therefore can have no effect on the rest of mankind ; whereas it is the business of divine justice to let the whole world see, by an open distribution of rewards and punishments, what it is to please, or oflfend God ; to do good, or to do evil. Did virtue appear to the eye ofour present nature always so beautiful, and vice always so ugly ; and were every good action so fully rewarded, and every evil one so amply punished in the doing, as some men would have us think, all legal distributions of good or evil had been utterly use less. The laws of our country had surely been wholly im pertinent in threatening the blackest crimes, which we should be most apt to abhor, with the most terrible punish ments, and encouraging us to the best actions, which vve should be most apt to love, by proposing their best re wards ; nor had they both threatened and promised, after all, so often in vain. But the whole world hath found by sad experience that huraan nature is prone to sin ; that ' the thoughts of raan's heart are only evil continually ;' that ' the heart' itself ' is desperately wicked,' so that no one can know it, and that therefore it must be hired to good by large premiums, and frightened frora evil by the most terrible punishraents. If the understandings of all raen, as our libertines insist, were able always, when unbiassed by education, clearly to distinguish between the good and evil action ; and if their hearts, as they say, found nothing but pleasure in the for mer, and pain in the latter ; it were surely a wonder, how so many bad actions, and so few good ones, corae to be done. Why is the truly good man so great a rarity, that he passes for a saint or hero ? And why do all ages and 46 CHRI.STIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC. countries so abound with bad men, that no laws sufficiently strict, nor punishments sufficiently severe, have ever yet been invented to guard against crimes the most abominable and shocking ? In the writings of a libertine, men are fine creatures, lovers of virtue, and haters of vice. But if a writer of this stamp happens to make one in that body from which we have our laws, he is as ready as others to punish robbery and raurder with death. How good we are in his book ! how wicked in his statute ! how much at va riance is the one with the other ! As a libertine writer, he thinks it sufficient to give us our consciences for legislators ; but as a framer of laws, he turns us over to be rewarded or punished by others in consequence of our actions, that is, to future rewards and punishments, as if we were quite an other sort of people. On bis principles, God is not allowed the same privilege this man claims to himself, of promising rewards to good actions, and threatening bad ones with punishraents. Yet raen are certainly the sarae in regard both to the laws of God and raan. If, however, Christianity is to be run down, then its sanctions are to be struck off" as useless or slavish, and the raoral sense or conscience can do every thing ; but if the purse is to be secured, or the throat defended, then the gallows and the gibbet are not too great an addition. Thus necessity, which sorae say hath no law, compels even the adversaries of every law, but that of nature, to become lawgivers themselves. The truth is, these measures arise out of our very nature, which cannot direct or support herself without foreign and additional aids. Should any community frame a system of laws, but assign neither rewards to obedience, nor punishments to rebellion, who would not laugh at the absurdity, although the matter of those laws should, in other respects, be never so wisely considered ? If in God's kingdom the subjects should be encouraged to esteem themselves wholly unaccountable, should have no reason to hope for any reward, but such as they could con fer, nor to fear any punishment, but such as they would inflict on theraselves ; what would become -of either his authority, or our obedience ? What would become of our L.J BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 47 virtue and happiness ? Surely he who made us, could never propose to govern us by methods wholly unsuitable to our nature, and by ties that have little or no hold of us. True, indeed, he never could, he never did. He deals with us as with men, according to the nature he hath given us. He sets good and evil before us, because he hath made us rational and free. He sets heaven before those hopes, and hell before those fears, which he himself hath impressed on our nature. If we choose the good, there is glory and eternal life proposed as a reward equal to the importance of virtue. If we choose the evil, disgrace and misery for ever are prepared for us, as a punishraent due in justice to our wickedness. The one will be inflicted, or the other con ferred, as the grand expedients to keep the raoral world in order for ever. To determine this in regard to every man, God, who knows every thing, and can forget nothing, hath appointed a time for judgraent, in which, at the destruction of this world, the whole race of mankind are to be sum moned before his throne, and there to stand issue in the sight of infinite knowledge, justice, and power. These arguments for a future judgment, drawn from the attributes of God, and the nature of raan, ought to have their weight with reason, were there nothing farther to prove the point. But God hath thought fit, in a raatter of this infinite consequence, to furnish us with another, which leaves no roora for doubting wherever it is known. This is the resurrection of our blessed Saviour, who, on that ac count, is set forth to us * as the first-fruits of thera that sleep,' and are to be raised to new life ; so that his rising again from the dead is proposed to us, not only as a suffi cient proof that God can raise the dead, but also as an assurance, that he will actually raise the whole race of raan kind, in order to a final judgraent. No ordinary event, no assurances in mere words, could have satisfied the world, that all men shall live again, and be judged for their past lives. Nor would even the miracle of our Saviour's resur rection have done it, without having been more amply attested than any other fact. This araazing fact was fore told long before Christ was born, was repeatedly promised by himself, and fixed for the third day after his death. His adversaries, apprized of it, took eff'ectual care to prevent 48 CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC. the possibility of a pretended resurrection. When he ac tually arose again, and gave full proof that he was alive, his witnesses every where preached his resurrection as the highest proof of his gospel, and as a pledge frora God of our rising again to the future judgment. For doing this, they were persecuted both by Jews and Gentiles, with the utmost cruelty ; but death itself, in its raost dreadful cir cumstances, was not able to frighten them from the duty of preaching Christ risen ; for they were fully convinced, that they theraselves should rise again in like manner, and rise to an eternity of happiness and glory for thus faithfuUy at testing the resurrection of their Master. Here now is satis factory evidence, both frora reason and revelation, of a judgment to corae, and of a just retribution, to be dispensed in the sight of the whole intelligent creation, for all the thoughts, words, and actions of all mankind. On this footing only can the governraent of God's king dora be supported against the rebellious passions of man kind with sufficient strength and majesty. Take away these sanctions, and his laws lose all their force; for such is the nature of his subjects, that they never consider right as good, till they are convinced it is profitable ; nor wrong as evil, till they are satisfied it is hurtful. Nay, and as pleasure often lies against right, right must be raade exceeding pro fitable, or it will not be chosen; as sensual pleasure and worldly gain are often on the side of wrong, it will not be avoided, if it is not raade exceedingly hurtful. God knowing this hath annexed rewards of the highest value to good, and punishments ofthe greatest severity to bad actions. Thus our Maker, Govemor, and Judge, deals with us according to our nature. Now we raust take care to deal with him according to his; and what his nature and will are, so far as the perform ance of our duty depends on the knowledge of them, he hath sufficiently informed us by his word. Let us then at tentively consider, what a ruler and judge we have to deal with. In the first place, we should consider, that there is no such thing as absolute secrecy In the universe, for God is present every where and knows all things. He is not like our earthly judges, at a distance from us. ' He is within us L.] BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 49 and about us. In him we live, and move, and have our be ing. If we clirab up into heaven, he is there ; if we go doWn into hell, he is there also ; if we take the wings ofthe morn ing, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there also shall his hand lead us, and his right hand shall hold us.' In all transactions, he is ever on the spot, and needs no wit ness, as the judges ofthis world do, to prove us innocentor guilty. No darkness ean screen us from his sight. ' The darkness and light, to him are both alike. The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth.. The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good. The word of God is a discerner ofthe thoughts and intents ofthe heart, neither is there any creature thatis not manifest in his sight, but all things are naked and open unto the eyes of him,' with whom we have to do. ' Whither then shall we go frora the presence of hira,' who is present every where? Or where shall we hide from that piercing eye, to which the darkness is no darkness, to which the night is as clear as the day ; to which a veil, a lock, or a wall, is neither bar nor hindrance ; to which the hills, the raountains, and the whole globe of the earth are perfectly transparent. As he knows, so he for ever remembers, all that hath passed. Not a single thought is ever lost. Time, like space, is all present with him. His ' records therefore are sure,' so that ' there is nothinghid, that shall not be revealed,' nothing hid at present from the world, that shall not be revealed or laid open before the eyes of angels and men. This should be well considered by him who would not plot against his prince, or contemptuously trample on his decrees, if he knew that prince was listening to him, and looking at him from behind a curtain. In the second place, the subjects of God's kingdom are to consider, that their judge is not to be blinded by bribes, or biassed by interest, as the judges of this world are too often found to be, but 'righteous in all his ways.' 'His righteousness, like the strong mountains,' is never to be shaken ; ' his judgments,' like ' the great deep,' are never to be exhausted. ' Doth the Almighty pervert justice ? Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?* Yes, ' the works of Jiis hands are verity and judgment. He shall judge the yoi.. III. B 50 CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC. world in righteousness. The work of a man shall he render unto him, and cause every raan to find according to his ways ; Yea, surely God will not do wickedly ; he regardeth not persons, nor taketh rewards.' Let his subjects lay this to heart, and act accordingly* There is no defence against the justice of God, but the merits of Christ, and the Christian covenant. But how can that covenant protect those who have lived and died in the transgression of it? Or what hopes can he found on the merits of Christ, who despised the offers of mercy and peace, through Christ, while Christ was in his mediatorial office ? This office will cease at the day of judgment; and Christ, the state of trial being over, will seat himself on the throne of justice, and assurae the awful character of judge, of a judge from whom no secrets can be hid, and from whose sentence justice only can be expected. In the third place, as our judge is wisdom and justice itself, so is he almighty and irresistible. His will is no sooner issued, than executed throughout the universe. 'It is the Lord God omnipotent that reigneth over us. He is mighty in strength ; who hath hardened himself against hira, and prospered ? He reraoveth the mountains, and they know it not ; he overturneth them in his anger. He shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble ;' nay, * the pillars of heaven tremble, and are astonished at his re proof. The thunder of his power who can understand? Behold, the heaven, and the heaven of heavens, the deep, and the earth, and all that therein is, shall be moved, when he shall visit; the mountains also, and the foundations of the earth shall be shaken with trembling when the Lord looketh upon them. He is a great God, a mighty and a terrible, from whose face the earth and the heaven flee away. He alone is to be feared, for he doth according to his will in the army of heaveii, and among the inhabitants of the earth, and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, what dost thou V If the whole world, the whole creation, is as nothing in the hands of our judge, what should every particular offender think of his condition, in case he should fall as such into those hands ? It is true, the mercy of God is infinite, and extends over all his works. But to those who abuse it, or presume on it to the encouragement of themselves and others in wickedness. L.J' BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 51 he will be found a God of vengeance only, and will shew his goodness to the rest of his creatures in making dreadful ex amples of such desperate crirainals. God, you perceive by his own express declaration, ' hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by the man whom he hath ordained, whereof he hath given assurance to all men, in that he hath raised him up from the dead.' The grave will be no sanctuary to the wicked, nor prison to the righteous ; for ' Christ will reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet,' and deatii as the last. Justice requires a future judgment; God's sa cred promise is plighted for the preparatory resurrection. Accordingly at God's appointed time, a trumpet shall be blown by his angel, the sound whereof shall be heard in the grave, and rouse the dead to new life. What rausic shall that sound bear with it to the ears of the good .' What hor rors to those of the wicked ! The first object presented to our opening eyes, on that prodigious occasion, will be the throne of God, raised high in the air, adorned with infinite raagnificence andlustre,and bearaing light, to which that of the sun is darkness. The host of celestial powers, extending in shining ranks, will surround it on both sides, and fill the whole prospect of heaven. The great book, wherein the lives of all men are recorded, will be laid open ; and the judge in whose face and person will appear a majesty infinitely surpassing all the glory ofthis preparation, seating himself on the throne, will order the whole race of mankind to stand before hira ; and, having thus arraigned the species, will proceed to the grand and final triaL The angels of light will be ready to conduct the blessed to that heaven of happiness and glory, which will present itself to our eyes from above, while those of darkness will wait to hurry the souls of the wicked to the horrible pit of fire, which will open its dreadful mouth from beneath. Then shall the heart of man beat with such a force as his present mortal frame could not possibly support. How shall even the best of men bear the thoughts of any uncertainty, when so much is at stake, when God judges, when the whole creation is looking on, and when heaven or hell is to follow the decision ? How shall men less virtuous bear the rack of doubts suspended between hope of heaven e2 52 CHRISTIAN FAITH DEMONSTRATED [dISC. and dread of hell to all eternity ? But, above all, how shall they, whose guilty consciences afford them no glimpse of hope, behold that king of heaven and judge of men, whom they have offended; that glorious kingdora, out of which they are immediately to be excluded for ever; and that shocking lake of fire and darkness, wherein they are forth with to be plunged under an impossibility of redemption to all eternity ? Represent now to yourselves thi^ trial, with all its impor tant circumstances, of a judge so wise, so just, so powerful ; of a reward so inestimable, and punishments so dreadful. Try if you can possess your reason with a firra belief of it, and your hearts with a deep and lively sense of it ; and then tell us, whether you can at the sarae tirae entertain a train of sinful thoughts, and form wicked resolutions. If you find you cannot, consider with yourselves, how infinitely you are concerned, to raake that impression deep and lasting. As God's servants and subjects, we are accountable for every thing to him, and therefore should never forget that we are to account. Howsoever pleasingly the things ofthis life may amuse us, and stifle the expectation of being here after judged by almighty God for what we do, yet they will not always be able to shut our eyes against so awful a pro spect, nor will moraentary pleasures make us amends forthe loss of endless happiness. Whether therefore we regard ourselves as accountable to God, or our own souls, for our lives, no scheme of life can becorae us as rational creatures, but that which proposes justification before the throne of God, as its chief end and aira. By this point we ought to steer ; and whenever we lose sight of it, we have nothing to guide us through a troubled ocean of temptations and dangers. This world passes fast away, and in a little time shall be no more. Blessed is he who runs his course through it, like a passenger, and stays not to amuse himself with things of little moraent on the way, but hastens towards a more lasting and happy place of abode ; who knowing that the eyes of his judge are alway.s on him, always fixes his eyes on his judge; who watching carefully over all his thoughts, and every part of his behaviour, mortifies the deedw of his flesh, and dies to a vain and vexatious world. Bhsscd is he. L.J BY THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 53 who, by often supposing himself in the agonies of death, learns 'to die daily,' and to look on his dissolution as a thing familiar and welcome, when it actually arrives. Blessed is he, who, by often supposing hiraself just newly arisen from the dead, and brought to trial before the judgment-seat of God, learns to rise, above the corruptions of his sinful na ture, to a thorough newness of life ; learns to ' rise from dead works, to serve the living Lord ;' learns, by perpetually set tling accounts with his conscience, to prepare his audit for the great day of account. This raan truly lives, lives with infinitely more satisfac tion and comfort, than can possibly be tasted in all the wealth, pomp, and pleasure of an uncertain and perishable world. This man shall meet death with a joy, equal to the terrors of the wicked. This man shall behold the face of his judge with rapture, while others ' call on the mountains to hide them' from that awful countenance. This man shall receive that happy sentence, 'Well done, thou good and faith ful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' This man shall be ' caught up into the clouds with Christ and his an gels,' at that time, when this world, once a scene of triuraph ant wickedness, but now all in flames, shall be perhaps turned into a place of punishment for those who loved it more than God, and insulted him with a gross abuse of all his inferior creatures, bountifully bestowed upon them. Now to ' him who killeth and raaketh alive again, who shall raise us up at the last day,' to the King of heaven, and Judge of all the earth, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. 54- riEWARE OI- FALSI'. TKACHEHS. [l)ISC. DISCOURSE LI. HEWARE OF J'ALSE TEACHERS. St. Matt. vii. 15, 16. Beware of false prophets, which cninc to you in sheep's ctolliing, bul inwardly they are ravening wolves. \< shall hnow them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or Jigs of thistles? The religion revealed to us by our blessed Saviour, and his Holy Spirit, could not have been discovered by observations made on ourselves, or the world we are placed in, as other sciences are ; nor does it naturally spring up in our minds, like instinct or desire; but approves itself, as soon as it is known, to right reason, as a system of truths, necessary to a thorough reformation of our corruptions, and a perfect go vernment of our passions. Hence appears the necessity of instruction, and consequently of teachers, in order to the knowledge of Christianity. But if such a reformation and government, and of course the real happiness of individuals, depend so absolutely on the knowledge of our religion ; the happiness of every com- iftunity, must, unquestionably, rest on the same foundation. The community can be neither better, nor happier, than the several members, whereof it is composed. And, whereas, howsoever pure and clear the necessary religion may spring from its original fountain, there is dan ger ofits being considerably corrupted or obstructed, if the channels, through which it passes, are not sufficiently clean and open ; it must undoubtedly be the concern, indeed the most important concern, of all individuals, and of every com munity to see, that their religious teachers bc men of wis dom and integrity, proportionable to the great ends of their office. Where religion is not iraparted, the very soul of vir tue, and the source of happiness, are wanting. Where it is perverted in the conveyance, an evil spirit, instead of a soul, is infused, and new enormities, wliereat even the corruption of nature startles, are produced. LI.J BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 55 Now the danger, in both respects, is much greater than can be apprehended, before the idleness, the wrong-headed- ness, and what is still worse, the wrong-heartedness of man kind, among whom our teachers raust be chosen, are well considered. The idle raan will not labour in the office of teaching proportionably to the dulness or inattention of his hearers. The wrong-headed, especially if he is conceited (and a thousand to one he is highly so), will distort every thing he conveys ; and like an uneven glass, present all awry to the understandings of his disciples. "The wrong- hearted will add to, diminish, or change, whatsoever message he is charged with, according as the times, the occasions, the humours of his flock, or his own worldly interests, shall tempt him with views, detached, either from the original truth of religion, or the edification of mankind. These causes of apprehension are not more plain to our experience, than it is, that numbers of men, thus, unhappily minded, crowd daily into the ministry, with views of gain and ease only to themselves, and often with principles di rectly contrary to those they solemnly declare for at the en trance. One half of these give themselves little or no trou ble about the duty of instructing their people; and the best wish we can form of the other, is, that they were as idle. But strange as it may seem, it is, to the full, as true, that many are found more active in spreading such opinions, as they themselves have renounced, than others are in propa gating those principles, on which they believe eternal salva tion to depend, and which, for that reason alone, if we may credit their sincerity, they undertook the sacred office. By what equally preposterous and wicked turn of mind it is, that truth and idleness, deceit and diligence, are thus unna turally linked together into these moral monsters, is as diffi cult to account for, as it is to develope the other mysteries of iniquity, contrived by the great deceiver. Thus circumstanced, however, the men, who are at all concerned for the salvation of their souls, ought surely to be on their guard, ought to watch over their own hearts, and • try the spirits' of their teachers, with the utmost circum spection. If there are many who trade in heresies, ' raaking merchandise of men's souls ;' if ' many grievous wolves are gone out into the church,' to worry at once its members and 56 BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. [dISC, its provisions ; and if these wolves have subtilely concealed the rapacity of their nature in the sheep's clothing, in order to get in among the flock, and devour the unwary ; the cau tion given by our blessed Saviour in ray text, must be of the last consequence to every simple and well-meaning Christian. The safety of his soul depends on his being ' aware of false prophets ;' tbat is, on his being apprized, in the first place, that such there are, and in great numbers too, who, with art and cunning not easily seen through, lie in wait for the unguarded mind, in order to steal into it, under the disguise of truth, such errors, as subvert, where- ever they are received, the whole faith and practice of a Christian ; and, in the next place, on his knowing how to detect and distinguish these false prophets from the true. That such there are (for by the word prophets, here as well as in many other places of Scripture, the teachers of religion are to be understood) our Saviour's warning, and our own knowledge of the world, are sufficient td convince us. He desires his true disciples to beware of them, fore seeing, that no age of his church militant should be free from these corrupters of the truth, and foretelling, that ' raany false prophets should rise, and deceive many.' St. Paul fore told the same event, when he said to Tiraothy, ' Know this, that in the last days perilous tiraes shall come,' tiraes pro ductive of raen, who have a ' forra of godliness' (sorae of the sheep's wool), ' but deny the power thereof,' who, ' as Jannes and Jarabres resisted Moses, do also resist the truth ; raen of corrupt rainds, and reprobate concerning the faith.' Our own knowledge of the tiraes we live in raay satisfy us, that these prophecies are but too well fulfilled, otherwise why so raany teachers contradicting one another on tbe fundamen tals of our religion? We are sensible, surely, they cannot all be in the right, and that truth neither needs, nor admits, the artifice and sophistry practised by some of these con- trovertists. But, being convinced, that there are such false prophets or teachers among us, as we are here cautioned to beware of; and that ' they go about by subtlety to deceive us ;' how sha;ll we detect their arts, and how spy out the wolf within the sheep's clothing ? That this clothing does not always fit the wearer; that. Ll.] BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 57 in time, it grows too thin and tattered to conceal him ; and that, to a narrow inspection, it discovers shrewd signs of a counterfeit skin, I shall presently endeavour to shew. But, first, let us take into consideration the method pointed out by our Saviour of detecting the false prophets, of whom he warns us to beware. •' ' By their fruits,' saith he, ' ye shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ?' Now, it is a question with sorae, what sort of fruits our blessed Instructor means, whether the doctrines or the lives of such as pretend to teach others. .It is certain, the appearance of innocence and goodness in a religious teacher are very apt to infuse a strong preju dice in favour of that which he inculcates, and as certain, that the contrary appearance usually produces a contrary prejudice. The sheep, being so commonly given for an emblera of innocence, and the wolf, for that of wickedness, do naturally seera to point out this interpretation. For a farther confirraation of this construction, it is observable, that the words, 'their fruits,' are applied to the teachers, not their doctrines or principles. Besides, it is, with great shew of reason, presuraed, that the wisdora of Providence will generally employ good and honest men for the convey ance of religious truths, and leave it to fouler vessels to carry heresies. Whether this is a right way of thinking, or not, it is nevertheless so rooted in the minds of all men, as never to be dislodged ; and therefore ought to be carefully laid to heart by every one who conceives himself to be a preacher of truth and righteousness. Few, we know, will take him for a sheep within, who is a wolf without ; or believe, that the same man can both preach the will of God, and practice that of his eneray. It is equally certain, however, that Christ, by ' the fruits of the tree,' intended to furnish the most simple sort of Christians with a plain and distinct raark, whereby they might know the nature of the tree itself. Now, it is a matter of no small difficulty to one unable to search his own heart, to search, those of other men, and find out, in the midst of disguises, whether they are to be classed among the vir tuous, or the vicious. To me it seems a much easier task 58 BEWARE 01- FALSE TEACHERS. [dISC. to discover tlie truth or falsity of their doctrines by the use of sound reason in a diligent perusal of God's word ; espe cially, if tlie doctrines have been tried on othera beforehand, and either healed or poisoned the minds into which tliey were admitted. It is a fact, not to be questioned, that very bad men, such as Balaam and Judas, have been authorized by God himself to deliver and preach the most sacred truths. Nor is it less apparent to the experience of every man, thnt othera, believed by all their acquaintances, or at least taken by the general opinion, to be men of very good lives, have nevertheless been strenuous preachers of error and heiesy ; for, most evident it is, that men of very good characters, as well as a looser sort, have appeared ainong the foremost champions of opinions, equally important, and wholly re pugnant. How shall the simple in this case choose his guide, if he hath no other rule to go by, but tlie lives of such as offer their service? Is he to halt between two opinions, till the day of judgment comes, and shews him which of those opinions had the advantage in point of ex emplary teachers ? To what purpose is the word of God laid open to him, if he may not ' search the Scriptures, whether the things' delivered to hini ' are so indeed,' as tliey are delivered, or not? If he is to pin his faith on the mere appearance of morality in a teacher ? It is acknowledged, Christ calls the fruits, whereby we are to judge, the fruits ofthe prophets, or teachers, and not of their doctrines ; but then it should be noticed, that this figure, in putting the teacher for the thing taught, is the same with his putting the disciple for the doctrine learned, when he explains the parable of the sower. ' That' (seed) he saith, ' which fell among thorns, are they, which, when they have heard, go forth, and are choked with cares,' &c. Yet the seed is the word of God. He uses the same figure also in the parable of the tares : ' Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them.' The tares, it is true, are put for bad men. in the parable, and are said ' to be sown by tbe devil ;' that is, their bad principles and sins were infused into thera by the enemy, who can, in no sense, be understood to have created the men themselves, without running into downright Manicheism. Most true it is, the argument of God's employing none but good men in his ser- LI.J BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 59 vice, proves nothing, because brought to prove too much ; for, as all men are sinful, as none is good. Providence, if tied to this rule, must have given us angels for teachers, and not men ' of like infirmity with ourselves.* Providence,^ therefore, instead of being complimented by such reasoning, is really arraigned for placing his treasures ' in earthen ves sels,' and not in golden shrines. We commit no mistakes in attempting to gather fruits from plants we are well acquainted with ; we do not, for instance, look for grapes on thorns, or figs on thistles. But if foreign plants, as'yet unknown to us, are imported and propagated in our country, as some of them may produce fruits, nutritious or medicinal ; and others, poisonous ; it will be more prudent to let them be tried on swine, before we venture to make a meal on them ; at least it will be a safer way to smell and taste them in extremely small quan tities, ere we trust them, in larger, with our constitutions. Thus, without too great a risk, we may know the tree by its fruit. In like manner should the teachers of all religious doc trines be judged of. J'hey who teach us such as have been already revealed, and found by long experience to be pro ductive of virtue and happiness, may be safely listened to. But, if both the teacher and his doctrines are new to us, for that very reason they are to be suspected, till they are tried on those who greedily swallow everything; or, at least, till their agreement or disagreeraent with known truths, with unprejudiced reason, and, above all, with the holy Scriptures, is better examined. By these rules we may canvass the new opinions with others better versed in such matters than ourselves ; and by observing what effects they have on the preacher himself and his disciples, more espe cially, how, on giving a little into his principles ourselves, the state of our own minds is altered for the better, or the worse, is warmed, or cooled, to God and goodness, may, without too great a risk to our faith and salvation, ' know of the doctrine,' and consequently of the man, whether either ' is of God ;' since all our care and inquiry is only to find out the will of God, that we may do it. And what is his will in the caution before us, but that we should be careful to discern the false teacher from the true, and avoid GO BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. [dISC. him? Who, then, is the false teacher? He, no doubt, who teaches that which is false, erroneous, or seductive. Were not this our Saviour's real meaning, he had not ap plied the epithet, false, to the prophet or teacher, but rather to the man, whom it must have fitted in its full propriety. He, therefore, certainly points at that teacher, who, not as an angel, or a man, but purely as a teacher, is to be branded with the narae of false, on account of his false doctrine, of whora we are to beware. It is not ours to 'judge the raan. To his own master he standeth or faileth.' Neither are we, by any raeans, so rauch concerned witH his life and raorals, as with the nature and tendency of his principles, which, if right, raay lead us, through saving truths, to perfect hap piness; and if wrong, through pernicious errors, to eternal misery. If we consider what it is we are to receive from a religious teacher, as we gather fruit from a tree, we shall find, it is his doctrine, that which he teaches ; and that, on only ex araining this a little, we may easily perceive whether it is confirraed or contradicted by the word of God, just as we distinguish an haw from a grape, and know that this is the fruit of a vine, and that of a thorn. But, that the fundamental articles of our religion, both in regard to faith and practice, are fully and clearly laid before us in holy Scripture, the same Scriptures do strongly maintain ; how otherwise could St. Paul have said to us, as well as to the Galatians, ' If we,' the apostles, ' or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you, than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.' Where now are we to find this gospel, but in the word of God ? And if, notwithstanding the holiness of a heavenly angel, and of an inspired apostle, both are to be accursed, in case they give us any thing else for gospel than that which God himself hath given us in his word ; why is the supposed righteousness of any preacher whatsoever to be set up for a test of truth, and a proof that his doctrines must all be perfectly sound ? If bad principles, that is, principles that naturally tend to relax the ties of religion, and tempt rae to be vicious, should have made this teacher virtuous, it might seem a miracle to my understanding; yet miracle though it i^hould Ll.] BK.WAUE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 61 be, I am not to be canied awny witli it, for it was, long ago, foretold, that • the false prophets should shew great signs and wonders ;' and none greater, I am sure, they enn shew, than a life of piety and virtue, planned on anti christian principles, which is the same ns the production of good fruit from an evil tree. What then, you will sny, is the disciple to sit in judg ment on his master ? If the taught is to examine tlie sound ness of his teacher's principles, must he not have more knowledge than that teacher? And if so, why such a teneher ? A man may possiblv kuow whether the principles of another are sound or not, who is not near so leained. In each lending article of faith or practice, one plain sentence of Scripture may enable hini to do tliis ; or. if one is not sufficient, there are a hundred. David found the truth of what I am saying, experimentally; ' I have more under standing." snith he, ' than all my teachera, for thy testimo nies are my nieditntion.' When God is the chief insti'uctor, there is an eff'ectual check upon the documents of lower teachers. A plain understanding is, by no means, the worat commentator on the simplicity of the gospel. Altliough learning is a necessary qualification in a translator of the Scriptures, and a teneher of Christianity, yet are the learned to be heard with caution, on account of the infinite contra dictions and extravagancies, whieh their refinements have introduced into this most sacred branch of knowledge. These are ' the wise men after the flesh,' and ' the vain dis- putera of the world." on whom St. Paul sets this character istic mark, that the plainer Christian mny not be led astray by their specious subtilties. As the present times abound with such, the counsel of our Saviour, • to take heed how we hear,' was never more necessary. But, had the simpler and more illiterate hearers nothing else to guard against, than the fancies and refinements of learned men, there would be the less danger of imposition. They have artifice also, and that of the deepest and darkest kind, to apprehend in many of rheir teachers, on whom the sheep's olothinbT sits so well, and looks so natural, that it is very hard to discern the ravenous wolf, the wily fox, the mimic ape, that lurks within. 62 BEWARE OF FALSF, TEACHERS. [OlSC. Let us however examine this clothing a little. Perhaps, on a nearer view, it may be found less genuine, than it seems at firat sight. If the very disguise should betray itself, either by exhibiting hair, infttead of wool, to the eye ; or by falling off, on a reasonable freedom of hand, the in spector will start back from the apparent beast, which it now conceals. Here now it is to be noted, that this clothing, like all other dress, put on more for show than utility, in neither uniform, nor always the same, but varies according to the tiraes, and is now of one fashion, and then of another, as may be most conducive to the designs of the wearer. In one age it is a pretended zeal fbr orthodoxy ; in anothisr, high respect for the outworks of religion ; in another, scru pulosity of conscience about the gnats of opinion and practice ; in another, a ])uritanical ostentation of righteous ness ; in another, bold pretensions to the gifts of inspira tion, prophecy, and miracles. Of these, and such-like, the antiquaries of controversy have preserved a large wardrobe, torn from the masquerading teachers of forraer centuries in the many unsightly scuffles about the very principle of peace and love. In this age and country, the sheep's clothing consists of high pretensions to liberty, charity, morality, and vene ration for the holy Scriptures. Fine indeed ! and fit, not only for a real sheep, but for an angel of light. It is more than the wolf can want, and sufficient to conceal the in fernal deformity of Satan himself, should he have occasion to ' transform himself into' one of those heavenly beings. As, however, we are commanded ' not to judge by the ap pearance, but to judge righteous judgment,' let us go a little closer, and inspect the particulars. And first, as to liberty, or rather, in this case, Christian liberty, the skin here seems to be so well gathered about the wearer, and the wool so artificially stuck on, that none, but a practised eye, can discover whether he is a sheep or wolf. He teaches, that the gospel having set us free from the bondage of ordinances, and enjoined us an internal or spiritual service, we can in nothing act more like Christians, than in withdrawing our attention and dependance from outward usages, and fixing both on that which is truly LI.J BEM'ARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 03 essential, and necessary to correct the heart ; nor than in freely following the sense and reason, which our maker hath given us, and which Christ hath often called us to the use of, in the search of religious truths. Hovv right and just is this ! But when, as if in pursuit of these principles, he goes farther, and under a pretence of decrying ceremonies, he is for explaining away, or vilifying the sacraments, as extefhal and superstitious ; and for annulling the ministry, as bur densome and tyrannical, it is easy enough to perceive the wildness of the wolf, who kicks at every sort of discipline, by the first ; and his voracious teeth, by the second, which water at the wealtli of the church. No less remarkably does he discover himself, when, encouraged by the gospel invitation to a generous freedom of thought in religious matters, he sits in judgment on the plainest dictates of God, and, forcibly wresting the Scripture, bends them to those of his own reason. Here the violence of the wolf, the cunning of the fox, and the irreclaimable wildness of hoth, are united to pollute religion in its fountain, and to pervert every article of Christian faith. Now, if we do not take all this for an exercise of true Christian liberty, we are charged by them with breach of Christian charity ; and so the second part of the sheep's clothing is used to fasten on the first, and prevent its being torn away in order to a ma nifest detection. Charity, which is the most lovely and exalted of all the Christian virtues, and which our blessed Master hath there fore assigned as the distinguishing badge of his disciples, is aped by the wolf with infinite art, and paraded off" to prodi gious advantage ; and as between charity and zeal, whenever so little misunderstood, there appeara to be a sort of natural opposition ; the zeal of an orthodox advocate for Christian fiiith, though moderate enough, is run down and ridiculed by the wolf, as an incendiary and persecuting spirit, and that with such unhappy success, as to have extinguished, in the generality of professed Christians, the very appear ance of regard for Christianity. This dead sleep affords a fine opportunity for the sower of tares ; nor does he neglect to seize it with all that zeal, which he so loudly decries in his opponents. Thus zeal is blamable and uncharitable 64 BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS.' [dISC. only when it is exerted on the side of truth, though herein undoubtedly is its most aflfectionate exercise towards men, and its raost pleasing proof of itself in the sight of God, if the propagation of religious truths is of any consequence to the happiness of mankind, and if the blessed martyrs were not the raost mistaken bigots, that ever laboured or died for a worthless cause. It must be confessed, indeed, that the real principles of the wolf sit too loose on him, to admit of any sufferings, or even worldly losses, on their account, in their abettor ; and therefore he hardly ever attempts to raake proselytes by open declarations of, or arguraents for, his opinions ; but insinuates them under the mask of received truths by the basest equivocations. A fine sort of divinity, no doubt, that can be neither preached, nor heard, but in double en- tendres ! Is it not raost unchristian, most uncharitable, in us to expose it? However, that the wolf, under all his sraooth words of charity, benevolence, social aff'ection, &c. and under the oily appearance of meekness and moderation, is still a wolf, may be easily perceived by the home, but secret stabs he gives to the reputation of those who stand foremost in the controversy against him, and by the infinite pains he is at to keep them down, as men who would set the world on fire, were they in power. How artful is this species of persecution, which consists in im puting a spirit of persecution to others. How very artful this method of throwing cold water on the zeal of others, that his own may draw all the fuel to itself, and have leave to burn alone 1 If the world will not see the wolf here, nor shun him for being a wolf, but is resolved rather to wish for deception, let it be deceived. I beseech God, however, to- preserve every well-meaning Christian frora the virulence of the reigning moderation. As to raorality, or the third particular in the sheep's clothing, it sounds so like virtue, which is absolutely re quired by the gospel, as the principal ingredient in Chris tianity, or rather, as the grand eff'ect of all its principles, that a wolf, howsoever equipped in other respects, without this, could never look like a sheep. To this therefore he afl'ects to lay claim, as his peculiar distinction, and thereby to throw the odium of indifference for good works on the LI.J BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 65 orthodox. Allowing him now to be as good a man as his neighbours, and better, his raodesty will not suffer him to say he is ; do not we insist, as strongly as he, on the neces sity ofa good life, and on the performance of gbod works, in order to salvation through Christ ? What then becomes of his distinction? Why, he denies faith to be as neces sary, though, by the very constitution of the gospel, faith is raade the principal work of God, and the fountain of every Christian virtue, the good tree, the tree of life, which is known by the good works or fruit which it produces. Yet the wolf, here too plainly discovering himself, declaims against faith as raere idle speculation, at best ; and, disput ing the doctrines of the Trinity, of the satisfaction, and of God's grace, as errors, advances a system of moral philo sophy, rather his own too, than that of the Scriptures, as one thing needful. What a wonderful juggle is here ? Will it go down with coraraon sense, that the word of God, because it calls us to repentance and newness of life, hath repealed its own principles of virtue, and sent us for both to mere raorality, which, as with a brand, it calls ' the vain phi losophy of the world ?' Do you not see the pride of the wolf in his claira of heaven on the raerit of his own works, while the raost harraless in the flock of Christ, after doing all the good he can, is comraanded to own hiraself but ' an unprofitable servant,', inasmuch as he can never repay the price laid down for him by the lamb ofhis salvation, in, and through whom he humbly hopes for pardon only on the best life he can lead ? Either Christ and his apostles were but maligners of huraan nature, and teachers only of the sourest sort of "untruths, or he raust surely be a false pro phet, who, in compliment to our virtue and his own, bids us trust, that the few 'filthy rags' ofour righteousness, mangled by great defects, and stained with gross raixtures, should atone for our raany enormities, or entitle us to celestial crowns. Notwithstanding the great stress laid on raorality by the wolf in sheep's clothing, which so plainly tends to sink the necessity, and consequently the credit, of revelation ; he nevertheless pretends to the raost profound veneration for the holy Scriptures. This he insists, as we do, is the word of God, and the VOL. III. F 66 BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. [dISC. rule of faith and practice. But he differs with us in raain taining, that it is the only lawful and warrantable creed, in contradistinction to those confessions of faith, that haye been framed by general councils, or particular churches. These, he says, are the works of men uninspired, and there fore should have no authority. Nor have they with us, any farther, than as they raay be supported with plain proofs frora Scripture ; and we think it as lawful to express God's meaning, in forms like tbese, by words ofour own, as it is to translate his word frora the original into other languages, or to preach on it from the pulpit ; especially as we cannot, by any other means, so well find out, whether they who de mand comraunion with us, or ordination to the ministry araong us, are real Christians or not. But the false prophet, or teacher, in declaiming for the Bible, as the only creed, does it raerely because he thinks he can, with greater ease, warp this to his own opinions, than the creeds of huraan coraposure, which he therefore protests against, because, though he swallows, he cannot so readily digest them, as is inanifest by their rising so often on his stomach. That this is really his reason, may be clearly gathered from what hath been already said under the heads of Liberty and Morality, which, if true, shews he makes no difficulty of preferring his own understanding to the so highly venerated word of God. This is farther evi dent by his actually denying, that the whole Bible, though he will subscribe to the whole, is the product of divine in spiration ; without being able, or at least willing, to point out which part of it is the word of God, and which the words of a mere man. What are the principles of this teacher reduced to ? He considers faith as bordering too closely on credulity; he looks on the creeds ofthe church as erroneous, and will profess his faith, if the temporalities of tbe church tempt hira not to do it by her creeds, by sub scribing the Bible only ; and, behold ! he believes the Bible only in part ; treats those parts of it which he pretends most to venerate, as a nose of wax ; wrests them to his own sense by artful and arbitrary interpretations ; draws but little, by way of illustration, from thence, into his short philosophi cal, or rather finical harangues, which be gives us for ser mons, and less still by way of proof; keeps heaven aud LI.J BEWAKE OF FALSE TEACUKK.S. 67 hell, the great scriptural sanctions of the divine law, as much out of the view of his hearers as possible, because, with the deist, he considers them as destructive of his fa vourite liberty and morality, as too coercive truly ; and be cause he suspects, or even disbelieves, the eternity of future torments. He knows the apostles, ' by the terror of the Lord, persuaded men.' He hears God saying to Isaiah, in reference to a people not more aff'ectedly delicate, nor more hardened in wickedness, than this which we are to rouse, ' Cry aloud-; spare not ; lift up thy voice like a trurapet ; shew my people their transgressions.' But then he hears tliese people, on the other side, saying, unto the seers, ' See not ; and to the prophets. Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits.' The false prophet I am speaking of, equally forgetting that he is the messenger of God, and that all softenings of his message ai-e cruelty to the people, accommodates his address to their inclination, not their wants, nor the intention of his master; and, as if there were no judgment to come, no heaven or hell to follow, no motives to reformation and ho liness to be drawn from a dying Saviour, nor from the shocking thought of crucifying him afresh by perseverance in sin ; contents himself, and his Laodicean hearers, with prettily, but coolly, parading on the beauty of virtue, the deformity of vice, the social aflfections, the fitness of things, the dignity of human nature, and the moral sense ; princi ples canted up by the deists, as sufficient for the correction and government of our passions, in opposition to the Christian sanctions. What, but fallacy, can be learned from teachers so false ? As here the tree may be known by its fruit, so the fruit may as easily be known by its tree. No man in his right senses will go to such thorns for grapes, nor to such thistles for figs ; from whence he can expect no thing but trash for his understanding, and a wound to his conscience. If it is still insisted, that wickedness is the fruit or sign ofa corrupt and false teacher, pointed out by our blessed Saviour, surely one, whom we know to be guilty ofthe grossest prevarication in matters of religion, in case he presumes to teach religion, must be such ateacher, must be even self-condemned, as the apostle intimates. How f2 68 BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. [dISC. then can he be approved and followed by the well-meaning disciples of Christ? Yet, after being thus detected, must he still wear the fleece, and pass for a Christian ? Must he even shrowd him self in the simple and seamless garment of Christ, forwhich he hath cast lots with the more avowed enemies of that master, whom it is his part to hail, as it is theirs to buffet ; while the whole of his teachings exhibits, to a discerning eye, nothing better than a manifold patchwork of deistical shreds, artfully tacked together with a scriptural thread? Will not you, who know, but in part, the truth of what I have been saying, look a little closer into the principles of such teachers, lest you should give yourselves up to the guidance of such an artful deceiver, under the mask of an honest and faithful instructor. Or, if these are too short-sighted or careless to exaraine any part of the way before their leaders, will not you, at least, who know both the way and the leaders, who are sen sible every thing I have said is founded on truth and expe rience ; will not you disdain the very thoughts of sufFering your better understandings to be imposed on by the arts, already seen througb, with no wiser view than that a loose heart may have loose opinions to countenance its cor ruptions ? they who choose deceitful teachers, knowing thera to be such, ' are deceivers of theraselves.' Now, by choosing, I mean, not the electing of this or that person into a parish or congregation, but the lending a favourable ear to one teacher rather than another, and reading his pub lished [performances preferable to such as recoraraend the contrary principles. That there are raany pretenders to free-thinking, who thus open their rainds to one set of reli gious notions, while they shut thera against another ; and that tliey often do this, in order to a greater liberty of in dulging their passions, and pursuing their worldly designs, IS too evident to be disputed. These raen are intentional im- posers on theraselves ; and only single out a leader for their purpose, to aid them in the goodly work of self-deception. But pray consider seriously, you, whose conscience says to you, ' Thou art the man,' where this disingenuous way of quacking with your understanding, aud giving yourself LI.J BEWARE OF FALSE TEACHERS. 69 up to such undertakers ofthe soul, as I have been pointing out to you, is to end. The wolf has no sooner got posses sion ofyour mind by raeans of his specious disguise, but he enters into a close alliance with his relations, your passions and desires, encouraging these, and relaxing the strictness of the religious tie, till at length, without the least alarm to your now stupified conscience, he drops the fleece of inno cence, and stands confessed, a beast of prey. Here now com mences the reign of the wolf in all the arts of rising to wealth and grandeur, by fraud, force, oppression, and in an outrageous riot of sensuality ; which forbid your mind, once to fear or forbode a change. But, 0, how soon does that change arrive ? Nature cannot long support, nor will God long spare, a course so violent, and so contrary to true religion. The wolf that was permitted, nay, invited, to de ceive, is now employed to torment you. While infaray, sickhess, pain, beat heavily on you from without ; jour wolfish principles and passions tear you within ; yout anger blown up to rage for want of vent in revenge; lust burning in the oven of your impotence; jealousy driving your un derstanding to distraction ; and envy eatiug, like a viper, into your heart, shew you what fruits are to be expected from the thorn and thistle. This, however, is but amusement to the fury of your returning conscience, which reddening her iron scourge in the furnace of your enormous guilt, and raising her hand as high as heaven, at every stroke lashes and stares your soul into despair. This, too, is but a trifle, compared with that which deatii and judgraent bring along with them, wherein all conception, and therefore all descrip tion, are left far behind. Thus have I laboured, God is my witness, in the bowels ofcharity, to rouse you, and bring you with an open ear and feeling heart, to the admonitions of our blessed Master, ' Take heed how you hear ; beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ra vening wolves. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?' Do men hope for better than insipid and unwhole some haws from that thicket of their own bewildered under standings, and the perplexity of those interfering passions., whence their new teachers invite them to pick up a meal of mere raorality, by far less nutritive of real goodness, than of 70 STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. [dISC. licentious and irreclaimable irregularities? They raaybe as sured, if bere only they look for instruction, they, shall be left of God ' to eat the fruit of their own ways, to be filled with their own devices,' and to be ' taught with the thorns' of their own wilderness in a severer raanner than the men of Succoth under the hands of Gideon. Is it their choice to feed themselves from the thistles of huraan invention and corruption, covered, indeed, with the intricate leaves of Arianism, but ripening, at the head, into the flying seeds of deism, which carried ' by every wind of doctrine,' spread a crop of pernicious opinions, as often as they fall into a soil suitably predisposed ? What is their judgment ? Nay, what is their taste, if they prefer the product of these plants to the fruit of the true vine, that ' tree of life, whose very leaves heal the nations ?' God of his infinite goodness, teach us all here to seek the nourishraent of our souls, that we may ' have our fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life,' and that both 'he who soweth, and he who reapeth,' may rejoice together in Christ Jesus, to whom with the Father, and the Holy Spi rit, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Araen. DISCOURSE LII. STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. 1 CoR. xvi. 13. Watch ye, standfast in the faith, quit ye like men, be strong. These words breathe a spirit so truly railltary, that, had we not found them in an epistle, we should have been apt to imagine, the apostle must have uttered them at the head of an army, at a time when the enemy was near at hand, and a battle very soon expected. This now was really the case ; and every Christian who reads them, in part mistakes their meaning, if he does not LII.J STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. 71 consider the faith here mentioned, as the cause of God and his own soul, and that soul, hereby roused to vigilance, for titude, and vigour, in the maintenance of a cause so infinitely important, against an enemy, seldora absent, inconceivably artful, and implacably imbittered. Although we should have perfectly understood the apo stle, had he only exhorted us to ' stand fast in the faith,' yet we should not have so clearly conceived, how this was to be done, if he had given us this precept by itself. On the other hand, had he only said, ' watch ye, quit ye like men, be strong,' his words must have been, in a great raeasure, unin telligible to us, and we should have been wholly at a loss to coraprehend, why, or to what purpose, our vigilance and re solution are thus called up, as it were, to action. But, on viewing the whole text together, we find the in spired writer considers us, in respect to the principles of our holy religion, as raen carelessly sitting, or lying fast asleep, whom he therefore rouses with a ' watch ye,' and calls us to our feet with a ' stand fast in the faith.' After this, he speaks to us as if we were already in a posture of defence, and had the weapons of our warfare in our hands, • quit he like raen, be strong.' Being thus called up, as it were with a trumpet, to con tend for the faith, and to guard it against the eneray and his atterapts, we ovigbt to know what the faith itself is, who is the eneray, and what is the nature or raethod ofhis attack. First, As to the faith, it is a firra belief and trust in the Holy Trinity, for into this were we baptized, with a promise, that ' whosoever believeth shall be saved,' and an assurance, that ' whosoever believeth not shall be damned.' But where as to say, we firraly believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, but do not entirely believe in all, these three divine persons have revealed to us, nor subrait to all, they have enjoined us, would be gross absurdity and contradic tion ; our faith therefore necessarily extends itself to the whole of God's word, so delivered to us, as to leave no room to doubt, whether he himself was the author ofit, or not. If then believing in God, we raust of consequence believe in his word, it will naturally follow, that our perusal is to suit itself to his revelations, so as to give the closest atten tion to those things, whereon he hath laid the greatest stress. 72 STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. [DISC. firmly believing all he says, but meditating chiefly, and ap plying our faith more especially, to that which he is pleased to repeat most frequently, to explain in the greatest variety of lights, to urge in the strongest terms, and support with his raost engaging promises or most dreadful threatenings. Every ordinary reader of the Scripture will perceive, I mean no more but the doctrines of one only God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, of deliverance from the guilt and punishraent of sin, and adraission into the joys of hea ven, on the terms ofthe new covenant; naraely, a deep and sincere repentance in regard to all sins past, a lively faith in God's mercy through the saving merits ofthe great sacrifice Christ Jesus, and that ardent love of God and our neighbour, which the holy Scriptures set forth as the comprehensive perfection of all Christian duty. He can see nothing, who cannot see that these are the points chiefly insisted on in holy Scripture, nay, that the whole was written principally, if not only, clearly to teach, and firmly to establish the belief of these points ; and that therefore, without a settled faith in thera, it is in vain to talk of 'oeing a Christian. Thfs therefore is the faith, into which we are by baptism enlisted, wherein we are ' to stand fast,' wherein however it ' is impossible to stand at all, without attending to, and be lieving those other doctrines that lead to, follow from, or are otherwise necessarily connected with, these ; such, I mean, as relate to the attributes of God, the natural blind ness and weakness of man, the divine ordinances or sacra ments, the resurrection ofthe dead, whereof Christ was the first-fruits, a judgment to come, and endless happiness or misery to follow. And this is the faith, wherein that we may stand fast, we are to watch, to 'watch and pray, lest weenter into temptation,' that particular kind of temptation, which proceeds from, or at least always works in, ' an evil heartof unbelief ;' to ' quit ourselves like men' of resolution and sense, who are no longer children, ' tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine ;' and to ' be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, earnestly contending for the faith which was once delivered to the saints.' And surely no other thing, we can possibly be possessed LII.J STAND FAST IX THE FAITH. 73 of, so well deserves to be contended for, because on the purity and firmness oi" this faith all our title to forgiveness of sins, to peace witli God, and to the eternal enjoyment of him and heaven, is founded. This ' is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.' By this our ' affections are raised from things on earth,' from the vain and vexatious things whicii are under tlie sun; and placed ' on tilings above, on rivers of pleasure,' and on ' that glow which shall be 'revealed,' when we shall be able to comprehend, and fit to receive it. If the things above so in finitely surpass those below, it must be our highest wisdom and our greatest happiness, ' to walk by faith, aud not by sight ; to look, not nt the temporal tilings which are seen, but through tlie eye of faith at the eternal, which are not seen.' But that we through the eye of faith may have tlie clearer view of the happiness and glory promised, and that we may walk more steadily, or run more swiftly towards them, it is requisite this eye should itself be clear and sharp, not dazzled by any fundamental errors, nor darkened by the interposition of this world between it and the light of God's word. It is on this account, but not on this alone, that we are so earnestlv called on by the Holy Spirit to watch agaiust those errors, as distempers of the eye itself, aud ag^ainst the world as too apt to eclipse that eye by coming between the sun of righteousness and the soul. There is, I say, another reason for the earnestness of this call. We have an enemy, incessantly employed to pervert our faith, and turn our whole attention, through our senses, our appetites, and our pas sions, on the things of this present world. To work us to one or other of these ends, or perhaps both, he employs such arts and instruments as it is very difficult to guard against. As the points to be believed, whether in regard to the past or future, are, in a great measure, mysterious, incom prehensible, and wonderful, he applies to our reason, or ra ther to the pride we take in n supposed superiority of our reason, to persuade us, that men of understandings so un commonly refined and delicate, ought not to submit to the belief of facts, contrary to the course of nature, or of doc trines, above the ccmprehensiou ofthe most elevated think ers; and bv this nrtifice, so e.Mremely fit to flntter our va- 74 ST.VND FAST IN THE FAITH. [ui.sC. nity, tries to fill us with a contempt for the whole of our faith in revelation. If through the assistance of Alraighty God, and our own hurable reflections on tbe narrowness of our understandings, which cannot possibly comprehend either God, or his un searchable ways, we escape this snare, and still think it but reasonable to believe some things, for which we cannot ac count, on the testimony of him who is truth itself, and will not deceive us ; his next atterapt, is to corrupt that faith in our minds, which he cannot totally destroy. And here also he pleads with our vanity, that if we will not entirely relin quish the word of God, we ought not at least to swallow in the lurap all the constructions put on it by men who pre tend to the sole right of interpretation. On this rational foundation he builds another principle, more plausible than true, that in matters so mysterious as some articles of faitii are acknowledged to be, no particular construction can be necessary, and therefore, as to such ar ticles, different men may safely hold different or opposite opinions. This once adraitted, the believer grown bold with the word of God, as if God could not, or would not, make himself inteUigible on any subject he thought proper to re veal, gives himself an unbounded liberty of interpretation, even on points of the greatest consequence. Thus, under the pretence of interpreting for theraselves, sorae among us wrest the Scriptures to a sense agreeable to their own prejudices, but directly opposite to the express and manifest meaning of the Holy Spirit. For instance, we meet with nurabers every day, who in conversation, through the press, and even frora the pulpit, endeavour to prove by Scripture, that we ought to worship raore gods than one ; that Christ did not suffer for tbe sins of raen ; that the grace of God is but a mere invention of the learned ; and that the torraents of hell will not be eternal, either in respect to the devils, or the souls of wicked men. But in case the enemy fails in this attempt also, and we cannot be prevailed with so grossly to abuse our own un derstandings, or impudently to put what constructions we please on the word of God ; bis last art of this kind is then employed to turn aside our attention from the object of faith ; frora God, frora heaven, and consequently from thc LII.J STAND FAST IX THE FAITH. 75 exercise of meditation, devotion, and religious vigilance, to the pleasures of" the flesh, to the profits and poraps of this world, and consequently to such a scheme of life as is fitted to the pursuit of these alone. By this raeans that faith which can neither be wholly overthrown, nor in part cor rupted, raay be rendered absolutely useles ; and this will serve the purposes of our enemy more fully than absolute infidelity could do, because it is worse to act against faith and conviction than not to believe at all. Besides these, the enemy hath another raethod of attack, whereby he gives a deeper wound to our faith, than by those, and at the sarae time greatly proraotes these artful drifts in the minds of men. He knows, it is not vanity alone that makes men wish to have no other governors, but themselves. He knows, we have sensual desires, and furious passions, extremely impatient of restraint. To these he offers liberty, but under a mask of reason, as to men who think them selves more rational than all other men. ' Why,' whispers he, to a dissolute heart, 'will you believe that God could have forbidden you a full enjoyraent of those'sensible plea sures, which he hath fitted the world to yield you, and you to receive? How can you suppose he hath planted a tree so beautiful, with fruit so fair and inviting, just before you, for no other purpose but to try your obedience, in case he shall forbid you to touch it ? Can God forbid by religion, what he invites you tp by nature ? But farther, are you not a free being ? Is not your nature ennobled with moral dis positions, with a love for virtue on account of its own beau ty, and an abhorrence of vice on account of its own deform ity ? As this is the case, surely it is altogether slavish in you to submit to, and arbitrary in your master to impose on you a set of duties, wholly mercenary, as those must be, which are to be rewarded, if performed, with endless happi ness. Is it the property of a free being to stand in fear of extreme misery, for every transgression ? Is that virtue, which is performed through hope of reward, or dread of pu nishment ? of endless punishment, to be inflicted for the temporary lapses of a weak nature? If you consult your reason, and every thing else within you, that hath any sense of feeling, you cannot imagine an indulgent God could ever lay on you so severe a law, a law, too tyrannical to be 76 STAND FAST IX THE FAITH. [dISC. obeyed by a free, and accompanied by a history of facts, too extraordinary, and requiring faith in mysteries, too incredi ble to be believed by a rational being. Be not afraid to think freely, and then you will not fear to act as freely, for what is the use of thought, but to direct the will ? Or of the will, but to resolve what shall be done ?' Here are the very ' depths of Satan.' Here is the doctrine, which his instruments print and preach up in all places to ' the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction,' who greedily lis ten to them with every desire of a corrupt heart, and all the conviction of a wrong head, which will not stay to consider there are no distinctions raade here between moderate en joyments, which God perraits, and such as are excessive, which he raay possibly forbid as hurtful to human nature, and destructive of human happiness ; no distinctions be tween that degree of liberty, which raay be safely allowed to a bounded, nay to a corrupt and dissolute nature, and that li centiousness, which such a nature is by no raeans to be trusted with ; no regard had to the violence of our passions, which the natural love of virtue and abhorrence of vice are utterly unable even in the best minds, nay, which the hope of hea ven and the fear of hell, added to thoae moral dispositions, cannot always restrain in any one mind ; so far are they from laying too great a bias on the side of virtue. No, enjoy ment without check, liberty without bounds, and natural morahty, though so feeble in itself, without a future judg ment, without rewards and punishraents, are pleaded for; and therefore, because the corrective part of religion is not agreeable to a mind that is, or wishes to be, lawless, the doctrinal part must be false ; for if a free being ought not to admit of confineraent, neither ought a rational one ever to believe what he cannot account for. It is true, the neigh bours of one, who holds these opinions know to their cost, that he ought to lie for ever in chains ; but what is that to hira ? He will not chain himself, nor suffer even his maker to do it, unless by force. He himself knows, he can neither perfectly comprehend nor account for any one thing in na ture. And what then ? Is he therefore to believe in God and Christianity, because they are both unaccountable to him.' Does he not swallow the unaccountable in lower things because they tend to the gratification of his desires ? LII.J STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. 77 But will it follow that he ought as readily to believe in God, when he orders a bridle for those desires ? This is a conse quence he cannot digest. Would God be pleased to give this man a religion peculiar to him alone, and tell him, he had raade it his duty to follow his own inclinations in all things, and to as great lengths as he pleased, to possess hiraself by fraud, or otherwise, of all the wealth he could lay his hands on, or to get drunk twice a day,. or to make as free with every woman he met, as if she were his own wife, according to the particular turn of his mind ; though I can not help thinking, this would be the raost incomprehensible of all religions, and that he himself, on sorae occasions, might think so too, yet we can hardly iraagine he would make any objections to it, either on that account, or be cause it was iraposed by way of command. No, he would say, God knows best what every one should do. We are not to examine the fitness ofhis dispensations, but to take it for granted, that every thing he prescribes is right, though never so irreconcilable to our notions of right and wrong. Thus, I verily believe, would Christianity be vindicated in all its rairacles, mysteries, rewards, and punishments, by the generality of those who now object to it, could it, in any consistency with the purity ofits principles, make one mys tery raore, and indulge their inclinations. The arts of the enemy to destroy the faith, to prevent, or defeat the good ends it aims at, are seconded by others of a like nature, which his instruraents eraploy in underraining all its raost necessary articles. To stand right with the world, they raake large professions of sincerity, warraly de clare for an honest freedom and candour, in religious inqui ries, and even call on God to attest the purity and disinte restedness of their intentions, nay, to assist them in their labours. And yet, if you hear or read tbem out, you will find, all they say is raade up of artifice and sophistry, too gross to pass on people of any discernment, but well enough fitted to blind and mislead the ignorant or unsuspicious. When a conduct so full of low design and deceit is com pared with their canting profession's and hypocritical pray ers, just now raentioned, the wretch, who is capable of being staggered in his faith by such detected impostors, must, we may conclude, have wished to be deceived, before 78 5;T.VXD FAST I.V THF. FAITH. [oi.SC. he lent an ear to their arguments. What sort of a raind is it, that can thus, in one instance, so basely shuffle with men, and so impudently prevaricate with God. Or what notion can we form ofhis mind, who knowing this disputant to an swer the character I have given of him, will have no one else for his guide in matters of religion. But the guilt and infamy of all these artifices is redou bled in hira, who taking holy orders on him from the hands of our bishops, who promising solemnly at the altar to teach the doctrines of our articles and no other, who soleranly subscribing those articles with the three creeds confirraed by them, and more soleranly still, if possible, declaring in the face of God and the congregation, when he is inducted into a living, his unfeigned assent and consent to all and every thing contained in the book of Comraon Prayer ; yet disputes, preaches, and publishes performances calculated to overthrow, were it possible to be done, the very first and raost fundaraental principles contained in that book, and in those articles and creeds. And, as if in all this he had not given sufficient testimony of a mind ready to commit the most detestable sacrilege by the vilest prevarication, the man, compelled by his office, and by his love of ill-gotten wealth, reads the aforesaid creeds, and the Litany which be gins with an express invocation of the Holy Trinity, reads them alraost every day, and every day disputes or writes against the Trinity as a doctrine, which no man of sense or conscience can believe in ; reads them as truths, and prays by them as proper forras of reasonable service, and rails at them as impious, unscriptural, and wicked ; reads, prays, and rails ; but eats on, and struggles hard, by all sorts of arts and means, and by again and again repeating the same declarations, subscriptions, &c. to provide for himself a richer meal. If we duly consider the double dealing and dissimulation of these false teachers, with the parishes coramitted to their care, with the church of Christ at large, with God himself and his holy religion, we shall be convinced, the esteera they are in, and the attention wherewith they are heard or read by the worid, present us with the blackest spot in the character of this age. Were the arts of these teachers so well covered, as not to be seen through by the sensible part LII.J STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. 79 of mankind, some apology might be made for the times, as imposed on by deceivers, too guarded and too refined to be detected. But the fact is quite otherwise. The horrible prevarication and artifice of the men under consideration, are thoroughly discovered, and perfectly well known, known to those who, probably on that very account, choose them for their guides and directors in matters of reUgion. Hence it is raanifest, that the teacher and the taught are of one turn of mind, that head answers head, and heart, heart, as exactly as if they had been tallied to each other by the grand irapostor. What now, in such tiraes as these, and amidst so raany snares, is to be done by you who are yet uncorrupted in the faith. Hear ye the words of Christ; 'he that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned.' Faith, you see, is the necessary raeans of your eternal sal- . vation, the only road to heaven, the only tie that can unite you to God, his sign in you, and your plea for the per formance ofall his promises. But you will say, what is the faith ? And I answer, humbly, diligently, fairly search the Scriptures, and you will know ; for ' he that runs raay read it there.' Hear the Holy Spirit, ' there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ. But though the apostles or an angel frora heaven preach any other gos pel unto you, than that which hath been preached unto you, let hira be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye haye received, let him be accursed.' Hear the Holy Spirit, who foresaw your danger, and therefore cries aloud, ' watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit ye like raen, be strong.' ' Watch ye,' for the enemy is near, and steals on you under a variety of unsuspected disguises. ' Stand fast in the faith,' for if you fall through a loose, a feeble, or a fickle turn of mind, you fall from your vovv, from your God, and from all reasonable hope of salvation. ' Quitye like men' of resolution, who will not suff'er themselves to be 'driven from that hope which is'the anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, by every wind of doctrine,' though it should never so often shift frora point to point, and blow with all the fury the prince of the air can give it. ' Be strong,' be firm in yourselves, as men who have neither lightly espoused, nor will lightly divorce 80 .STAND FAST IN THE FAITH. [dISC. the principles of eternal life. And as there is no depending entirely on your own strength, ' be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his raight.' Like true champions for the best of causes, 'put on tbe whole arraour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles ofthe devil. Above ali, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked, praying always with all prayer and supplication in the spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance.' ' Save yourselves from this untoward generation,' a ge neration 'viho set not their hearts aright, and whose spirit is not steadfast with God ;' who reraeraber indeed that ' God is their rock, and the high God their redeemer ; never theless they do but flatter hira with their mouth, and lie unto hira with their tongues,' as you hear, when they repeat the litany and the creeds, for ' their heart is not right with hira,' neither' are they steadfast in his covenant. There is no faithfulness in their mouth,' so that you cannot depend on their preaching, which is contradicted by their praying, from whence you raay, you must concl ude, whatever their out sides be, their 'inward part;' observe, I beseech you, ' their inward part is very wickedness,' if to pray one thing from without, and to preach the contrary frora within, raay, in such times as these, be called wickedness. Hear what the wise man says, 'Woe be to the sinner that" goeth two ways.' Therefore ' go not in every way. Winnow not with every wind. Be steadfast in thy understanding.' Hear a yet wiser counsellor. ' As ye have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him, rooted and built up in him, and established in the faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving. Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tra dition of men, after the rudiraents of the world, and not after Christ, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.' Listen not therefore to those who call hira and the Holy Ghost angels, and say, they ought to be worshipped as gods, by divine appointraent; but remember what the fountain of truth forewarns you of, ' let no man beguile you ofyour reward in a voluntary humility, and worshipping of angels, intruding into things which he hath not seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind. Gird up the loins of your LII.J STAND FAST I X^ THE FAITH. 81 mind. Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour, whom resist, steadfast in the faith.' Resist also his ' false teachers, who privily bring in daranable heresies, de nying the Lord that bought them, and through covetousness with feigned words raaking merchandise of you. Know this, that grievous wolves have entered in among you,' from other professions ; and that ' also of your own selves have men arisen speaking perverse things to draw away disciples after them ;' therefore watch, for ' such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming theraselves into the apostles of Christ, and no marvel, for Satan hiraself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his mimsters also be transformed as the rainisters of righteous ness. Be steadfast, iraraoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. Hold fast the profession of your faith without wavering, for he is faithful that proraised ; and henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and car ried about with every wind of doctrine by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive.' ' In vain is the net spread iu the sight of any bird,' or as in the Hebrew, ' in the eyes of any that hath a wing,' for it may see and fly from the deceit. Your eyes are open. You raay easily see the net, and as easily escape it, if you please. Listen only to the word of God, who saith, ' Be loved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits, whether they are of God, because raany false prophets are gone out into the world.' Ifyou are not determined to be deceivers of yourselves, neither the great impostor, nor all the other deceivers who have entered into the world, will be able to insnare you. ' Ye therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware, lest ye also, being led away by the error ofthe wicked, fall from your own steadfastness. Grow ye rather in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' To this end, and ' for this cause, I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord, of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that he would grant you according to the riches of his glory to be strengthened with raight by his Spirit in the inner raan; that Christ may dwell in yonr hearts by faith, that ye being rioted and grounded in love, VOL. III. G 82 ON CONFIRMATION. [dISC. may be able to coraprehend with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know tbe love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.' ¦ ' Now unto hira that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that ye ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us ; unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus, throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.' DISCOURSE LIII. ON CONFIRMATION. 1 Coe. XVI. 13. -Quit you like men, be strong. If by the pains taken with you, the younger part of this congregation, in the nurture and instructions of your minis ters and parents, you understand the nature of baptism and confirraation ; you will be at no loss for the application of those words to yourselves. Lest however you should, in any degree, be still ignorant of these matters, 1 shall. First, a little explain them to you, and then endeavour to assist you in the application of my text. In baptism you are called out of this vain and sinful world, washed from sin, and gathered into the church or family of God, by a covenant of peace, made between him and your soul, through the blood and mediation of Christ, wherein God, on his part, promises to receive you as one with his Son, as his own adopted child, and the heir of an eternal kingdom, infinitely more happy and glorious than all the kingdoms of this worid, were they united in one ; and wherein, encouraged by these high and interesting promises, you, on your part, solemnly vow to renounce, abhor, and raake war on, the devil, the worid, and the flesh, those ene raies of God and your souls ; rightly to understand, and firraly to believe, all the chi^f articles or heads of the Chris, LIII.J ON CONFIRMATION. 83 tian faith; and so to understand and observe the command ments of God, as always to do that which he requires, and to abstain from that which he forbids, therein. Here now is all you are to account for as a Christian. Here is the rule you are to live by. Here is the rule you are to be judged by. Remember, you have by a vow made it your own rule, and put your eternal salvation on the care ful observance of it. So great is the change made in you by baptism, that, from the alien and enemy of God, from the outcast of hea ven, you are become the brother of Christ, and the son of God; from the heir of that curse, which fell on the first Adara and all his posterity, you are becorae a joint heir with Christ, the second Adam, of all the happiness and glory, which alraighty love can bestow upon you. You are no longer the sarae creature. You are a new creature. You are dead, and have passed from death unto life. You are dead to this world and sin; and your life is hid with Christ in God. ' Know ye not, that so many of you as were baptized into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death ; that you were buried with him by baptism into death ; that, like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so ye also should walk in newness of life. Reckon ye therefore yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin ; but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' Now, as to confirmation, several things are to be consi dered in it; first, that it is not a sacraraent according to the notion and doctrine of our church, nor can be esteemed on a level vrith the sacraments agreeably to the word of God ; secondly, that it is a holy rite, practised universally by the apostles, bishops, and Christians, not only of the first and purest ages of the church, but in all ages, from thence to the Reformation, when some of the Protestant churches thought fit to discontinue it, on account of the superstitious cere monies added to it in less enlightened times, which, blessed be God, did not prevent ours: from retaining a rite, in some sort necessary, at the sarae time that she pruned away the new-fangled additions ; thirdly, that in this rite the Chris tian, who was baptized an infant, confirras the baptismal covenant, made in his name, by taking on himself all its sacred obligations, from whenc^arises what I call the neces- g2 84 ON CONFIRMATION. [DISC. •sity of the rite, wherever infant baptism takes place; and fourthly, that herein the Spirit of God, coraraunicated by the laying on of the bishop's hands and prayer, confirms the ¦Christian, now corae to years of discretion, and well ac quainted with the terms of the covenant, in the renuncia tion, faith, and obedience, engaged for by vow, when that covenant was entered into. Here is a short account of baptism, and ofits confirma tion on the part of every sincere Christian, when arrived to the requisite time of life. As to the too early practice of baptizing, confirming, and administering the eucharist, all at once, even to infants, when a bishop was present, and of using oil in confirmation, the Scriptures do nowhere coun tenance it; our church therefore rightly disowns it, and con sequently we are in no sort concerned, on this occasion, to trouble ourselves with it. No; but that which you, my dear young people, are infi nitely concerned in is, to make your full advantage of the ordinance you are going to perforra your part in ; a thing irapossible to be done, but with hearts seriously set to per form your part of tbe covenant, that the Holy Spirit having ripened your good resolutions with his grace and guidance, ' every one of you may grow up unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ ; and that you henceforth may be no more children, tossed to and fro with every wind of doctrine, but may be able to quitye like men, and to be strong, strong in the Lord, and in the power ofhis might.' Do not hope that the Holy Spirit will, by his grace alone, and without your concurrence, enable you to renounce, to believe, and do, as you have vowed. If it is but little you can contribute to the work of your own salvation, that little, however, must be done, or we cannot see how you can be saved. You are comraanded to work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, though you are, at the same tirae, comfortably assured, that it is God that worketh in you, both to will and to do. But why a comraand from your Maker to do somewhat, if you are by nature able to do nothing? Sorae, it is true, too much magnify the natural power of man to do good, and to justify himself These men talk as LIII.J- ON CONFIRMATION, 85 if they could do every thing, and would thank, not God, but their own virtue, for heaven. Others there are, as ready to level all mankind with brutes, or rather mere machines, wherein there is no self-power of acting; who, in short, can do nothing, at least that is good. Not far from the middle between these extremes, are placed the moral powers and capacities of nian. Somewhat he can atterapt ; nay, some what he can do. He can meditate. He can Avatch. He can pray. He can resolve. God only can give eff'ectual force and vigour to these acts or endeavours. Man can plough, harrow, and fence. God alone can dispense the seed, the sunshine, and the rain of his grace, and bring the harvest to perfection. A raan is not to lie down on his back, call for the daily bread of his soul and body, set open his raind and mouth, and expect it in a shower. No, he must up and labour, and be thankful to God if he gives the increase, which, in case our own endeavours are not wanting, he never fails to do. If, having done all you can, you come to God, as at this day, in a due sense ofyour own weakness, and his goodness, he will infallibly help you. But, ifyou do not come, how can you hope for his assistance ? Undoubtedly your weakness, in regard to the work of your salvation, is deplorably great, and it will be the first step towards the attainraent of the strength you stand in need of, to be thoroughly sensible of that weakness. Look deeply therefore into yourself, and sharply back on your past life, that you raay fairly judge, whether you are that wise, resolute, and worthy being, you are soraetimes vain enough to think yourself. Reflect how often you have been raiserably mistaken in the plainest points, or gone wrong, when the way lay open and direct before you. Have you been able to judge or believe, on a thousand iraportant occasions, as you ought, or as your true interest and real happiness required you should? Nay, even when God or man had taught you tojudge or believe aright, how seldom have your heart and resolution been able to second that judgraent, or 'to follow that faith into action, as a barely rational crea ture, not to say the disciple of God, should have done ! Consider farther still, whether even your consciences misled themselves, have not often misled you, or oftener, when they have distinguished good from evil to you, have failed 86 ON CONFIRMATION. [DISC. for want of power over you, steadily to affix your choice to the good. Having, on the footing of your own experience, put yourself to a fair trial in these particulars, you will find you are a very weak, perhaps too, a wicked, a despicable, and miserable creature ; not wiser than Solomon, who drivelled into the adoration of a stone; nor more righteous than David, who fell from a resemblance of God's own heart, into adultery and raurder ; nor more firm or faithful than Peter, who forswore his God and Master. You will perceive, ' that you are not sufficient of yourself to think any thing as of yourself; that you can do nothing without Christ.' From the raelancholy apprehensions, arising out of these mortifying reflections, you are revived by these comfortable declarations of the Holy Spirit, ' that your sufficiency is of God, and that you can do all things in Christ, whose grace is sufficient for you.' Behold then, God, this day, if you are properly disposed for the reception of so inestimable a gift, offers you his Holy Spirit by the hands of his appointed servant, first to guide you into all truth, that is, to assist your understanding, that you raay judge aright; then to assist both your understanding and heart, that you may believe aright ; for fa'ith, a truly Christian and lively faith, is not of yourself, it is the gift of God ; and lastly, so to enliven and invigorate your consci ence, that you may resolve and act up to the name and cha racter of a real Christian, to the character of a candidate for eternal glory. In baptisra you was made, and are now going to be con firmed the child of God. If you consider yourself as his child, take care to be dutiful and obedient to your heavenly Father. If danger of sin approaches, or your enemies come upon you, run and cry, and louder still, in case you fall. You was safely lodged in your Father's house, how came you out into the way of raischief? into the street or broad way of the world? You stole out to play, or to snap up sorae glancing bauble, and now are in danger of being swept away by the crowd, or trodden under foot by the gallopers and coaches that hurry downward on that road to destruction. You are lost, if you cannot recover your Father's door. Rise therefore, run for your life, and cry. Ifyou do this liin.] ON CONFIRMATION. 87 with all your might, your Father will send out one to quicken your motion, and pull you in again. By baptism you was enlisted into the army of Christ, the captain of your salvation. But that was done for you by sureties when you was yet a child. You are now going in person to be attested and sworn into his service. You are going to be trained to the exercise and discipline of a Christian soldier ; to put on the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, and the girdle of truth ; to take the shield of faith, and the sword of the spirit, at the armory of God. You are going in a little time to be fed at the table or magazine of your Lord with the bread of life. Religion, truth, virtue, heaven, Christ, God, your soul, all are to be fought for. See that you behave yourself in a manner worthy of such a cause and such a captain. Keep close to the standard, and firm in your rank. It is safest fighting in a body. Single combat hath more of danger in it. Forsake not, therefore, the assemblies of the faithful, as the raanner of sorae is. Join warmly in family devotion, and in religious conversation with the more pious part of your neighbours. Above all, go constantly to God's house and table. Here is no mixture of folly or sin in what is said, as too frequently there is in other meetings, even of the better sort of Christians. Here your converse with God by prayer, and he with you by his word. Here you may kindle your devotion at the fire of others, and light your candle at those which shine around you. You may take a useful example from the army of your enemy. He, you see, keeps up the spirit and discipline of his service by as semblies in those churches of his contrivance, playhouses, gaming-houses, taverns, drums, &c. in higher life ; and in fairs, horse-races, cock-fights, dram shops, whiskey-houses, in lower life, where his veteran soldiers, and raw recruits, meet to exercise one another, in lying, cheating, swearing, lewd jesting, infidel haranguing, and sneering at religion, and, in all these, giving vogue and fashion to wickedness. Thus it is that the eneray prepares for battle. In assemblies of an opposite kind, and by exercises of a contrary nature, but still in assembling, and by exercising, must you prepare on your part. Nothing in your power is able to give you so much skill, strength, and courage, in the spiritual warfare. 88 ON CONFIRMATION. [dISC. If, however, at any time you grow faint-hearted because of the destruction that wasteth at noon-day, remember the promise of God, that though a thousand fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, it shall not come nigh thee. God is at thy right hand, and thou shalt not be raoved. See how tbe good Christians of your acquaintance advance steadily on the eneray, and put to flight the arraies of the aliens ! See how the raartyrs break through fire and blood to take the kingdom of God by violence ! Above all, see how Christ, your captain, lays round him with his cross, levels wbole ranks at once with every stroke of his two- edged sword ! His almighty hand rises to heaven, and crushes to hell, at every blow. How can you be dismayed, or draw back, in such company, with such a leader, and such a prize in view ? Shew the proof of your armour, and the vigour of your feeding, by the glorious spirit of your charge. Quit you like a man, be strong. You are now come to that very important, and indeed dangerous time of your life, when, both your reason and passions alraost on the borders of maturity, there arises from thence a sort of necessity, thatyou should choose your master and your way, not onlyfor the remainder of your days, but even for eternity also. You cannot be long in different. The cast and character of your life must now be fixed in such a manner as not to admit of any great change without extrerae difficulty, nay, without perhaps a frightful risk in regard to the safety of your soul. It is' a common and just observation, that such as men are in tHe earlier part of their lives, such they generally continue to be rill de'ath. It seldora happens that the good boy makes a bad man ; and seldoraer still that a wicked and disorderly lad is re claimed into a virtuous and regular man. Of so great con sequence is it to begin well, that the boy, a few singular cases only excepted, fixes a course of life forthe youth; the youth for the raan ; and he for the angel, whether of light or darkness. Corae, then, my dear young pupil, choose your master and your way. A raaster you raust have, a servant you raust be, as you are but a creature, and therefore, by natural necessity, a dependant being. God, by right of creation, is Lord and LIII.J ON CONFIRMATION. 89! Master of all. But the evil spirit sets up, by rebellion and usurpation, as to himself, and by permission from God, in order to your trial, for an absolute raastery and dorainion over you. The question now is, whether you will have God for your Lord, or subrait to be a slave to the devil ? Your reason finds no difficulty in this choice. You readily cry out, I will obey God and fight against the devil. But does your heart always say so too ? Do you not often yield to the motions of sin in your corrupt heart ? And what is your heart, thus in motion, but an engine, wrought by the evil spirit, and played off against God and his law ? ' Know you not, that to whora you yield yourself a ser vant to obey, his servant you are to whom you obey?' Or know you not, that as often as you comrait sin, you obey the devil, and are, so far, actually his servant? You must choose your raaster, therefore, with all your heart,. as well as with all your understanding. God, for his part, disdains a divided servant, and a trimraing service paid partly to hira and partly to his enemy. He comraands you to love him vvith all your heart, and his goodness to you demands it entire. You cannot, surely, think of obeying him with but a half of it. Well, you renounce the devil, that raonster in the crea tion, that despicable slave to sin, that infernal tyrant to the wicked, whose sole intention it is to insult Almighty God through you, and to make you as foul, as vile, as miserable a rebel, to all eternity, as he is himself. Hira, therefore, and all he tempts you to, by the world, and the corruption of your own fleshly nature, you persevere to renounce and abhor. And God you are resolved to serve with a steady under standing, and an undivided heart. You will serve him who hath the sole, the eternal right to rule over you, as him who gave you being, who bought you with his blood, who comes, as this day, an almighty ally, to join you against the ene mies of your soul ; him whose service is the only perfect freedom, honour, happiness, of all his rational creatures ; who is in hiraself infinitely good and lovely, infinitely great and glorious, and means nothing by his dorainion over you, but to raake you, for ever, good, lovely, great, and glorious, like hiraself. It is very well ; but you raust never forget 90 ON CONFIRMATION. [DISC. whom it is you profess to serve, and how he is to be served, naraely, in spirit and in truth, with a warm, watchful, and resolute spirit, and with truth agreeable to your professions, with fidelity conformable to your vows. If you begin well, your work is half done, and the necessity of a sorrowful repentance, or the dreadful danger of sinning, and never repenting, may be happily prevented. It is better never to be ill than to be cured, were the spiritual medicine ever so infallible; but, alas! we know of no such raedicines for a soul, far gone in the mortal disorder of sin, and perhaps in capable of the applicarion. ' Remeraber, therefore, your Creator in the days of your youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them,' and God too shall say, he hath no pleasure in thera. Give your heart to God while it is yet young and tender. Offer not your first-fruits to the devil, and think to put God off with the chaff and refuse of old age. ' Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation. Watch, for you know not what hour your Master cometh. Pray without ceasing, for your sufficiency is of God, and of hira only.' Choose now your way too, my dear children in Christ. There are two ways before you, one called the narrow way, and the other the broad. This leads downward, that up ward. You see they set out, both of them, just from your feet, but go wider and wider from each other the farther they advance, till it becomes a long and painful journey to cross over from the one to the other, in regard to the un happy traveller, who may have entered into the wrong' road at first, and proceeded in it, till his day is wearing towards an end. This broad way here gives room for many tra- vellers.abreast. It is smooth and easy to the foot. Its hedges are flowery, and loaded with fruit as fair to the eye, and as delicious to the palate, as that which hung on a certain tree in the midst of Eden. The pleasures and profits of this world may be picked up in the shape of guineas and dia monds at every step. The air richly perfumed, breathes in soft music on the ravished ear. This is the reason, I sup pose, tbat the passengers here, instead of soberly walking, are observed to dance down to the wanton raeasures, in pairs, while sorae, fast asleep, are carried along in gilded LJll.] ON CONFIRMATION, 91 coaches. On each side are palaces for inns, where there is entertainment for man and beast, with pomps, pleasures, and riches, promised on every sign. Such is the broad road at the end next you ; but farther onward it grows narrow and craggy. You raeet with thorns and briers among the flowers. These decrease, and those become raore frequent. Some base money, or counterfeit stones, are thinly scattered on the road. The air becoraes harsh. The rausic is often interraixed with groans and yells. The passengers, e*i- feebled by surfeit and satiety, drag their limbs with labour, though the road lies wholly downhill ; and they in coaches are kept awake by the gout and stone. Here the inns are filled with drunkenness, rapes, broils, bloodshed, murder, remorse, and terror. Here gaming-houses and jails, apothe caries' shops and tombs, turn the road almost into a street. A little farther down, a frightful pair of stairs, formed for the greater part of precipices instead of steps, throws the travellers into a bottomless gulf, too shocking for the ap proach of description. Hear, therefore, ye youth, the voice ofhira who cries aloud, ' Go not in the broad way which leadeth to destruction.' No, enter in at the strait gate, and take your journey upward in the narrow way, narrow only at first to those who come over from the broad, but, from the beginning, open, and easy enough of entrance to you, in whose yet untainted minds goodness is not altogether unnatural. You are not yet swoln by habits of sin to so great a size, as to make your entrance very difficult. It is but of yesterday that you ceased to be one of those innocents of whom Christ saith, ' of such is the kingdora of heaven.' Pass in resolutely araong the thorns and roses of this way, rather than araong the roses and thorns of that other. Herein, the higher you ascend, the air will grow clearer, the light stronger, and your prospects still larger and raore beautiful. This world, with its trifling persons and insignificant things, grows less and less to your eye, till you see it but as a dark and disagreeable lump of confusion ; while the heavens open to you, and the things above, as you approach them, begin to look larger and more illustrious to the eye of your faith, till you see them as they are in themselves, all lovely, all great and glorious, such as the unregenerate eye hath 92 ON CONFIRMATION, [dISC. not seen, the unregenerate ear hath not heard, and the un regenerate heart hath not conceived, nor can conceive. On the other road, every pleasure enfeebles. Here every pain invigorates. There the travellers, forming themselves into a community of miscreants and reprobates, help to hurry .one another downward, and tbe great deceiver, redoubling their weight, increases their power of plunging still deeper and deeper: but the faithful Christians on this road, joined in a communion of saints, lend their hands and shoulders to help one another upward, as often as this or that tra veller grows weak, or the hill too steep for him to climb; while the Spirit of God spreads a plentiful table for his re freshment, takes him to repose in his house, and soraetimes sets him forward in the fiery chariot of Elijah. Here a conscious sense of virtue, an ardent love of God, a burning zeal for his service, and a heavenly ambition, shall inspire you with courage, and teach you to glow at the sight of danger, nay, even to rejoice in tribulation, especially if brought upon you for your fidelity to so gracious a Master. But move a little farther up to the point of victory, where tribulations and persecutions shall be left behind ; where triumph and exultation shall begin ; where you shall be crowned, and surrounded with the natives of heaven, with saints, martyrs. Christian heroes, angels, archangels, prin cipalities, powers, thrones, through the loud hallelujahs of whom, you shall pass into the immediate presence of your God, your Father, your Saviour, your Coraforter. You shall see him. You shall see his countenance all covered with srailes and love. You shall hear him say, ' Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' Enter ye, therefore, in at the strait gate, and travel ye in the narrow way, which leadeth to life. Think it not too much to encounter with sorae difficulties, and to struggle patiently for a short time, that you may live for ever in joy unutterable, and glory inconceivable. Reraeraber you raust be a partaker of Christ's holiness, perhaps, in sorae mea sure, of his sufferings, before you can be a partaker of his joy- And now, my dear children, whom I have faithfully la boured to train up in the way that ye should go, ' I bow — LIV.J THE FAITHFUL, &C. 93 my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, that he would grant you according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man ; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith ; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, raay be able to cora prehend with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye may be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceed ing abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto hira be glory in the church by Christ Jesus, through all ages, world without- end. Amen.' DISCOURSE LIV. IpREACHED on CHRISTMAS DAY.] THE FAITHFUL AND ACCEPTABLE TRUTH. 1 Tim. I. 15. This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. To one, frora his childhood, made farailiar with the doc trines of our holy religion, and with this in particular, that Christ carae to redeem the sinful race of raankind ; or to one who does not know who Christ is, whence, or to what sort of a world, he came, or how wholly unworthy we were; of such a visit ; my text will seera to introduce itself with too great an air of porap and importance ; the porch will appear too spacious and too raagnificent for the building, ' This is a faithful saying,' big with divine truth, and abso lutely to be depended on, that cannot be disputed, or so much as doubted in the least, without obstinately shutting the eyes of reason, and questioning the truth of God's word. This is ' a saying worthy of all acceptation,' worthy, on, account of the light and conviction it brings with it, to be received by the understandings of all men ; and on account 94 THE FAITHFUL [dISC. of the equally corafortable and astonishing work of salva tion it sets before us, to be embraced with all the warmth of their hearts, and all the force of their affecrions ; with a transport of gratitude and wonder. What now is the say ing? Why, ' that Christ Jesus came into the worid to save sinners.' Now, I do insist on it, that, simply as the matter of this saying is here expressed by the apostle, it is impos sible for the eloquence, nay, for the imagination of men or angels, to do it justice. 'This will easily be made evident, before we have done. In the mean time, let us observe a little the faithfulness and worthiness of this saying. Faithful and true it must be in the highest'degree, if the prophecies of God to, all menj through Adam, Abrahara, Jacob, Moses, David, Isaiah, and a cloud of other witnesses, are all fulfilled, as they really are, in the truth of this saying ; and if our Saviour hath fully proved, as he certainly did, by infinite miracles, openly and every where perforraed in the face of unbelievers and ene mies, that he carae directly and iramediately from his Father to save the world. The reason of mankind, and their total inability to reforra or save theraselves, loudly cry out for such a Saviour. The prophecies, the miracles, together with the iniraitable wisdora, humility, patience, and good ness of Christ, do still more loudly proclaim hira to be that very Saviour, so that reason ceases to be reason, if it does not receive this saying with an entire conviction of its truth, as the fundaraental article of saving faith. Hence again appears its worthiness of all acceptation, so far as reason and the understanding are concerned to judge of its truth. So far as the heart and our affections are called upon warmly and gratefully to close with it, as the most important and corafortable of all truths, we have only to consider, who Christ Jesus is, wbence, and whither he carae, whora he carae to save, frora what, and by what means. First, then, let us seriously consider who Christ Jesus is. ' In the beginning,' that is, from all eternity, ' he was with God, and was God. All things were made by him, and without hira was not any thing made that was made. By,' or rather in, ' him were all things created that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers; all things LIV.J AND ACCEPTABLE TRUTH. 95 were created by him and for hira. And he is before all things, and by him all things consist. He is the first and the last, and besides him there is no God. He is the alpha and the omega, the Almighty. He is God over all, blessed for ever.' No created being was able to save us. The new crea ture required the omnipotent hand of its Creator, as well as the old. But had the power of a seraph, or all the seraphim together, been sufficient for this work, they had been unfit objects surely of that adoration, of that highest degree of love, wherewith the sense of our redemption ought to be ac companied in the hearts of all men. Nor is it at all to be supposed, without a flat contradiction to the very first prin ciple of all true religion, that God would suff'er any inferior being to carry off from hiraself such love, or such adoration, in the rainds of all mankind, whose love he hath courted with infinite proofs of goodness and mercy, and whose worship he hath confined to himself by the most dreadful threatenings. We see now to whom it is that we owe our salvation ; and, in seeing this, it is easy to conceive the returns that are due for it. No raere raan, no angel, no cherub, no seraph, was'able to save us. God only could do this. God alone hath done it ; and our gratitude, in the acceptance of this saying, ' that Christ Jesus carae into the world to save us,' should rise to as high a proportion as possible, with the dignity of his person who saved us. In the second place, we are to consider, whence Christ Jesus came.' He came, not only from the throne, ahd from the glories of heaven ; from that throne, whereon he reigned over all the hosts of heaven, and from the loud hosanna's of those exalted beings, who were created by him, in him, for him ; but what was infinitely more, he came from the bosom of his Father, from love unbounded, from love equal to his infinite merit. In our acceptation of this saying as a truth, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save us, we should feelingly figure to ourselves the glory and happiness he re linquished, the power and majesty he abdicated, and, above all, the inconceivable, the infinite enjoyment of his Father, wherewith he had been transported from all etemity, which he exchanged for his anger, that he raight give scope to mercy, too mysterious and astonishing for the comprehen- 96 THE FAITHFUL [DISC. sionof angels, yet not above the belief of a reasonable man, who is not too wise in his own conceit to credit a mystery, nor too good to need an atonement, for he knows he is a mystery to himself, and finds he is loaded with sin. His understanding is not become his idol, so as to have eyes that cannot see, and ears that cannot hear. Thirdly, we are to consider, whither he came from all this happiness, and glory, and majesty. He carae into this world. O miserable ! 0 amazing reverse ! He carae into a world full of pollution and wickedness, full of treachery, cruelty, and oppression ; into a world obstinately shut up against the light of his wisdom ; hardened against all the tenderness of his love, exemplified by every instance of goodness, patience, compassion ; and in open universal rebelhon against hiraself, against him, whom angels feared, whora all the thrones, the principalities, the powers of hea ven obeyed! That we might not be struck blind with his light, nor perish at the approach of his majesty, he veiled both in the 'tabernacle' of human flesh prepared for him. > ' He took on hira the form of a servant,' so that ' there was not even any comeliness in him, that we should desire him.' God came incarnate to save a race of incarnate souls, that the raystery of our own coraposition raight prepare us for the belief of his. ' The word became flesh, and dwelt among us,' that our very senses raight receive the person and doc trine of our Redeemer. We see hira, we feel him, we con verse with him, as a plain man, ' who is the brightness of God's glory, and the express image of his person.' We try his patience with our ignorance and stupidity. We shock his sensibility with the hardness of our hearts. We tease and aff'ront his wisdora with our irapertinent questions, with our saucy expectations, with our self-interested requests. Oh, had we but stopped here, and not proceeded with our indignities to infinitely raore grievous excesses ! But this is not the place for such reflections. Here it is that we ought to search and find out the knowledge of ourselves, that in that knowledge we raay the better perceive the en tire acceptation with which we ought to embrace this saying, ' that Christ Jesus carae into the world to save us sinners.''" For, in the fourth place, he carae, not as raight have been most reasonably and naturally feared, to judge and conderan LIV.J AXD ACCEPTAliLE TRUTH. 97 the world, a guilty and reprobate world, but to save them, despicable and odious as they are. If the dutiful, the faith ful, the just, the chaste, the grateful, had been in danger, our Saviour's visit and assistance had furnished a rauch sraaller occasion of admiration and thankfulness. But he came to save sinners, you the rebellious, you the trea cherous, you the iniquitous, you the unclean, you the thank less ; to save sinners, whereof I may more truly say, than Paul did, in the words immediately following ray text, that ' I ara chief.' The wealthy raay disdain an alms ; but with what acceptarion ought the debtor to snatch at the payment of all he owes ? with what acceptarion ought the prisoner to leap at the price ofhis freedom? with what a bound ought he to spring from the loathsome place of his confinement, when his bailsman comes to pay off his bonds ? Fifthly, we are next to consider, with the most awakened attention, what Christ Jesus came into the world to save us from, namely, sin and its punishment. We are by nature ' slaves, ' sold under sin,' corrupted, polluted, it may be, har dened, in sins of the most abominable and dangerous kinds. We are surrounded with darkness, but we like it because our deeds are evil, and require it. We are covered with nastiness, but delight in it, because it is both natural and habitual to us. There is but one who can enlighten the paths, and cleanse the ways of beings, so wedded to impu rity, and therefore so impatient of the light ; so destitute of light, and therefore so insensible of their own impurity. None can save, that is, reform and reclaim us, but Christ, who coraes by his word, by his sabbaths, by his sacraments, by his rainisters, and in all these, by his spirit, to call us to repentance and newness of life; to call us out of the world, that treacherous enemy, whora we foolishly and desperately love ; to call us out of the fiesh, that in-bred betrayer, whora we cherish with greater indulgence and tenderness, than our lives ; and he comes to put us on our guard against the snares of that apostate angel, vvho labours continually to make us as foul, as black, as malicious, as wicked, as mi serable, as shameful beings, every way, to all eternity, as hiraself. Is not such a visit, are not such labours, worthy of our utraost acceptation ? Are we not tired of our sins ; are we not frightened at their effects ? will we not embrace VOL. III. H 98 THE FAITHFUL [dISC. bim who comes todeliver us from so shameful, from so dan gerous, from so grievous a slavery ? A man lying fast asleep, in the dark, on a bed of filth, and on the brink of a dreadful precipice, is not, at first, pleased with him who rouses and gives him light; but he no sooner sees the con- dirion he is in, than he blesses the hand that disturbed him, and lays bold ofit, that he may be drawn to a distance from his foul and dangerous situation. But he comes also to save us from the punishment of sin. Were the sinner exempted by the intention of God, and the natural course of things, from all apprehensions of sufi'ering on account of his sins, his indulgence to the inclinations of a corrupt nature would prevent his ever having any thoughts of quarrelling with sin, merely because it is sin. But where as sin and raisery are inseparably linked together by their own nature, and by an unavoidable course of things, if pro vidence do not interpose ; and whereas ' God hath appointed a day wherein he will judge tbe world in righteousness,' and condemn the wicked to punishraents inconceivably severe and dreadful ; the guilty have reason to take frora hence the raost fearful alarra. He hath sinned, perhaps grievously sinned, nay, it raay be, is in the utmost danger of persever ing in his sins, though he knows, at the sarae time, that • vengeance lieth with sin at the door.' What shall he do in this deplorable distress ? He cannot reform hiraself. Well, but Christ, as hath been shewn under the preceding head, hath corae to do that for him, tha't is, effectually to aid his weakness. Yet still the dreadful question returns, how he shall be delivered from the guilt and punishment of his sins, already committed, which no repentance can undo, or atone for. Why, here too Christ comes to take both the guilt and punishraent of sin from all who shall use their best endeavours to second the motions of his holy spirit, in order to a truly Christian faith and a thorough reformation. Of all our weaknesses or faults, I know none of worse conse quence than this, that we either cannot or will not, form a right notion of the rewards or punishments which are set before us. The criminal is handed, because he does not rightly conceive that sort of punishment, till the instant of his suff'ering ; and the obstinate sinner perishes for ever, only because he knows not what hell is, tell he goes thither. LIV.J . AXD ACCEPTABLE TRUTH. 99 If we set before our eyes the tortures and horrors of that extreme, that eternal misery, we must inevitably have en dured, had not Christ taken our guilt on his own head, and atoned for all our sins, we shall perceive, we shall feel, how exquisitely sweet, how highly important, how every way ' worthy of all acceptation,' is the saying, ' that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,' especially if. In the sixth and last place, we consider, by what means he came to save us frora the punishraent of our sins. Divine justice requires, that no sin shall go unpunished. Either therefore we must suffer for our own sins, or another, suffi cient for so great a purpose, which no mere creature can be, must suff'er for us, must suffer death, the original wages of sin ; raust suffer it by divine appointment, and yet volun tarily. Now, no one, but the son of God, was sufficient for such a purpose. None else had ' power to lay down his own life,' for none else had a life of his own. None else could offer up a sacrifice of dignity equal to the guilt of all our sins. Neither 'the cattle upon a thousand hills,' nor their immediate possessors, nor the hosts of heaven, belong to theraselves, or have any property, strictly speaking, of their own. The divine nature alone is the universal proprietor. Frora this nature therefore alone could a proper offering be made. But the divine nature is purely spiritual, and inca pable of death or any other suffering. Our redeemer there fore and our sacrifice, must have been man, as well as God, or he could not have suffered, at least, in the offending na ture, which appears to have been necessary. ' Wherefore when Christ coraeth into the world, he saith,' unto the father, ' the sacrifice and ofi'ering (of beasts) thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared rae. In burnt offerings and sa crifices for sin thou hast had no pleasure ; then said I, lo, I come to do thy will O God.' And what was this will ? Why, that the son of God should take on him the frail and raiserable nature of raan, that he should be ' born of a woman' in a low and indigent condition ; that he should be hated, despised, and ' persecuted of men,' during the whole course of his life, that he should be 'arraigned, accused, spit on, buff'eted, scourged, crucified between two thieves.' And was it for this he came, as at the present season ? What raatter of wonder, and of love, on the part of man- H 2 100 THE FAITHFUr. [dISC. kind I As the highest of all beings, his birth is proclaimed by 'a rauUitude ofthe heavenly hosts ;' while, as the lowest of raen, he is 'born in a stable,' and ' cradled in a raanger !' Heaven and earth belong to him, 'yet he hath not where to lay his head I' The eyes of all things wait upon him for their sustenance, but he himself works at a common trade, or depends on the poorest of mankind for his own I He silences the winds, he smooths the billows, he awes the storms, and — is despised ! He heals the sick, and — is hated! He gives sight to the blind, and — is persecuted ! He speaks as never raan spake, and — is called a madraan ! He raises the dead, and — is tortured to death himself! Whether shall ^ve stand raore amazed at him, or ourselves ? But where is our gratitude and our love, if this amaze ment does not make way to them both ? Nay, whither is banished the comraon sense of rational creatures, if after hearing, if after firmly believing all this, we can be any longer wedded to our sins ? Frora our own nature he springs ; by our own hands he is scourged ! By our own hands he dies ! and in his last agonies mixes his blood and prayers together for us ! Can man behold his death with indifference and contempt, while every being in heaven, with infinite adrairation, beholds hira trampling under foot, and triumphing therein, over death, and hell, and all the powers of darkness ? Is it possible, that man, thinking, sensible, generous man, can be an unconcerned spectator of this transaction, undertaken and perfected for the salvation of man alone ? If now, ' this is a faithful saying,' and too fully proved to be rationally questioned, ' that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,' surely it raust be • worthy of all acceptation.' What tben is the acceptation, wherewith we are to receive it ? No doubt, as hath already been observed, witli all the conviction of our understandings, and all the warmth of our hearts. There is no reason why we should be more incredulous to the wonders of infinite mercy in the work ofour redemprion, than to those of infinite wisdom iu that of the creation. Is it not reasonable, that mercy should go as far to save an immortal, as wisdom, to accoraraodate a temporary being ? And if our convicrions, as to the truth ofour Saviour's coming, are perfectly rational, how is LIV.J AND ACCEPTABLE TRUTH. IQl it possible, that our gratitude, in regard to the end of his coming, should not be warra in proportion to the clearness of those convicrions, and the boundless raercy of that end ? But are we stupidly to sit still under this conviction and gratitude, while eternal goodness coraes thus to visit us ? Should we not go forth to meet him with a spirit and turn of mind, correspondent to those with which he comes ? Yes, as he came to us from the happiness and glory of hea ven, so we should go- out, frora the pleasures and pomps of this world, to hira. As he carae with great humility into this world to speak and act as a servant, so should we go into his church with not only lowliness of raind, as frail and wretched creatures, but with broken hearts, as abominable sinners. As he was born for us of an heavenly father, and of a pure virgin, so raust we be born anewto hira of the spirit, and of pure and virgin hearts ; we must ' be born, not of blood, nor ofthe will of the flesh, nor ofthe will of man, but of God.' As he eame into the world, not to gratify the desires of his fleshly nature, nor ' to do his own will but that of his Father ;' so should we go into his kingdom, not to please ourselves, nor to do our own will, but to please and obey God. As he came to suffer and die for us, so should we go to mortification, ' and a death unto sin.' As he came with no other view, than to save us, we should go to him with no other view, than to be saved by hira. By his birth of a woman he came in general to all men, and coraes by his spirit, his word, and ordinances, particularly to every raan , but each of us in particular must go to him, or we shall never raeet hira. He came from heaven into this world, that we might go from this world into heaven. He became ' the son of man,' that we might becorae the ' sons of God. He humbled hiraself, and took on hira the forra of a servant,' that we raight be exalted ' into the glo rious liberty of the sons of God. He became flesh,' that we might becorae spirit. He ' becarae sin for us, that we inight become the righteousness of God in hira.' He took our nature upon him, that we might take his, and becorae ' one with hira, as he is one with the Father.' As he hath ' eraptied himself, that all we raay receive ofhis fulness' he should receive of us the pleasing fruits of that which he hath sown in our hearts, glory for mercy, and grace for 102 THE FAITHFUL [dLsC. grace. Surely it is impossible, he should taste these with an higher relish, than a grateful heart perceives in paying them. But as Christ the treasurer of these fruits, lays them up for those who offer them, ' that the end raay be eternal life,' the profit must as far outgo the pleasure, as eternity does time. With these let us compare those of our own ways. Have we not already tasted how bitter is the forbidden fruit, the fruit of sin ? Can we any longer delight in pulling from that tree, and even shaking it to the last apple, which bears nothing else but remorse of conscience, and the wrath of God ; but sickness, and misery, and fear, and death ? If our souls are as thoroughly surfeited, as they ought to be, with this fruit, so sweet at first, yet so nauseous, so poison ous at the last; it is time we should taste that which grows on the cross of Christ, the true and real tree of life. Be hold it is here placed for us on the table of God, who, in the language of a most gracious inviter, saith to us, ' Come, take, eat — Drink ye all of this. O taste and see how gra cious the Lord is ! O, come hither, and behold the works of the Lord, that he hath done for us, that ye may be able to comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height ; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth all knowledge, tbat ye may be filled with all the fulness of God.' If we come worthily to this repast, we shall renew our spiritual birth-right, whereby we were ' born of the will of God,' and shall renounce our own wills, in order to be governed by his. Here, in the name of reason and faith, let us corapare and choose. Our own wills, experience tells us, are blind, and misguide us into every sort of error; but the will of God ' shall guide us into all truth.' Ours are irresolute, his steady. Ours are wicked, and hunt for destrucrion, both of soul and body, his holy, and always in tent on the happiness of his creatures. Ours look down ward through sin iuto a pit without bottom ; his, always upward through righteousness into regions of light and endless giory If we give ourselves up to our own wills, the flesh shall corrupt us, the worid deceive us, and our mil OfGod ' for a lamp unto our feet,' we .shall never go LIV.J AND ACCEPTABLE TRUTH. 103 astray, for he is wisdora itself; if we take the will of God for our arraour, as that is Almighty, so shall we be uncon querable and irresistible. If you have not hitherto performed, as well as you might have done, the conditions of your new birth-right, whereby alone peace through Christ is promised, let me earnestly press you to a raore close consideration of these conditions, as the leading rules of life, whereby you ought to act here, and must be judged hereafter. Hath the Son of God relinquished the glories of heaven, and descended into a stable and a raanger to save you ? And will you not go thither in the like spirit of huraility to receive him ? Is this too low a condescension for you, pol luted as you are with worse than beastly filth, which was not too low for God himself. You cannot raeet him, but with the same spirit in which he carae. He becarae ' a raan of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,' frora that day, when he took on hira the burthen of your flesh and sins. And are you, who coraraitted those sins, to be a raan of plea sure? He emptied himself of his majesty and glory for you ; and are not you to be emptied of that ' pride which goeth before your own destruction,' and those filthy affec tions, which represent you in the eyes of God as a piteous, if not an odious wretch ? Are not you to feel the weight of your own sins, as well as Christ ? What stable, what manger, is too vile for you, who have so long lain in filth, and fed with swine, and yet have been foolish enough to take it all for grandeur and pleasure ? If you still persist in this mind, you must be told that, though Christ had bap tized you with his own hands, yet to you no proraise is made, no perforraance due, no Saviour born. Unto you only, ' who have put off' the old man, and are born again by water and the Spirit ;' unto you, who feel in yourself, on the baptismal call of Christ, ' the answer of a good conscience ;' unto you, ' who walk not in your own ways, but in newness of life, not after the flesh, but the Spirit ;' unto you, ' who stand fast in the faith, confessing that Jesus is the Son of God,' and that throngh hira only you have salvation ; unto you, ' who observe all things, whatsoever Christ hath coraraanded you, who being deli vered out of the hands of your enemies, serve God, without 104 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. fear, in holiness and righteousness before him, all tbe days of your lives ;' unto you only ' is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.' Lay fast hold, therefore, by a lively faith on this Saviour, and by taking good heed to the arricles of your peace with God, ' endeavour to make your election and adoprion sure, lest, by deparring from thera, you be found among those, 'who have trodden under foot tbe Son of God, and have counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith they had been sanctified, an unholy thing, and have done despight unto the Spirit of grace.' Here now, my brethren, are light and darkness, glory and infaray, life and death, set before you. God give you understanding in all things, but raore especially to raake a right choice between these opposites ; and grant that your heaits raay warmly second your reason, and your works, the warmth of your hearts, through Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whom, with the Father and tbe Holy Spirit, be all might, majesty, and dorainion, uow and for evermore. Araen. DISCOURSE LV. [PHEACHED ON GOOD-FRIDAY.J THE NECESSITY A^D EFFICACY OF THE GREAT SACRIFICE. Acts xvii. 3. Christ must needs have suffered, and risen again from the dead. The ' rising again frora the dead' shews, that the sufFering, here raentioned, was that of death. St. Paul, as we are told in this passage, proved to the Jews, from the prophecies of the Old Testaraent, that the Messiah, or Christ, ' must of ne cessity have been put to death, and raised again to life.' That he could not have fulfilled those prophecies, nor proved himself to be the Christ, without thus sufFering, may be ^^'•] OF THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 105 clearly seen in the twenty-second Psalra, and the fify-third chapter of Isaiah, as wel! as in a great variety of other places, Christ himself, before his crucifixion, assured his disciples, ' that he should suff'er raany things of the elders, and the chief priests, and scribes, and should be killed.' He foretold the same thing to a mixed raultitude, raost of theni as yet un converted, in these words, ' Now is the judgraent of this world, now shall the prince of this world be cast out ; and I, if I be lifted up frora the earth, will draw all men unto rae. This he said, signifying what death ^e should die.' After his resurrection, he reproved his disciples, who had doubted, whether the Messiah should die or not ; ' O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suff'ered these things? And beginning at Moses, and all the prophets, he expounded unto thera, in all the Scriptures, the things concerning himself.' Although there is nothing, at first sight, raore rayste rious, than that he, who was without sin sbould, by the ex press 'appointraent' of eternal justice, suffer 'the wages of sin;' that 'the just should be put to death for the unjust;' or that the Son of God hiraself should die ; yet, this most extraordinary, and indeed araazing, piece of history, if duly weighed, and closely considered, will appear to be no less rational, than it is astonishing. But there is no reconciling it to the reason of infidel opposers, without passing through a train of thinking, to the full as surprizing, as either the fact of our Saviour's death, or the end proposed by it. In pursuit ofthis, we raust take a little corapass. It is evident frora the superiority of his nature to thatof any other aniraal, that man was intended by his Maker to be, and still is, the Lord ofthis world, which he inhabits. By the power derived to him from his reason, he makes the agility and strength of other aniraals, and the properties of the very elements his own ; he sends the dove and the dog on his errands ; he subdues the lion ; he bestrides the horse ; he raakes the ocean his highway, and is carried round the world by the winds ; the earth and the sun wait on hira with his food, and even the thunder is put into his hand. ' He is made only a little lower than the angels.' Surely then he raust be endued with wisdora and good- 106 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. ness equal to the high station he is placed in; and the e.x- ercise of these two endowraents, in so large an erapire, must make him happy in proportion to the full extent of his ca pacity. This is a most natural conclusion from that know ledge which informs us, that man and this world, are the works of infinite wisdom and goodness. Yet nothing can be more contrary to experience. In stead of governing a world, this lord, so highly stationed, is utterly unable to govern himself. He hath but a small share of that power, his natural abilities entitle him to, and what he hath, he abuses so foolishly, and suffers for it so miserably, that his station and power are become his curse ; and yet an unbounded advanceraent of both is the raost vio lent of all his desires. Nay, instead ofa sovereign, he is a slave. His body is enslaved to hunger, thirst, cold, heat, labour, pain, sickness, unhappy accidents; and to death, which he cannot think of without the utmost terror, which he cannot possibly escape. His mind is still worse enslaved. How is he torn with desires, which, if successful, he knows would undo him ! How is he blown up with idle hopes ! How thrown down by unexpected disappointments ! How unraanned by vain fears ! How terrified with such as are but too well founded, perhaps foreboding miseries without end ! How racked with pride ! How distracted with anger! How gnawn with envy ! How every thing within him, and about him, tyrannizes over hira in its turn, and forces him to betray hiraself, to abuse his own nature, and to insult his God! At the sarae tirae that he acts so inconsistently with hira self and the station he is placed in, and by both is raade so very unhappy ; all the creatures of lower rank and irapor tance pursue the ends of their being steadily ; and those of thera that are endued with Hfe, enjoy as rauch, and suffer as little, as their several natures can adrait of. Whence now this strange conjunction of dorainion and slavery, of wisdom and folly, of dignity and raeanness? Why are the little things of the worid so well fitted to an swer the ends of their creation ; while the great, for whom all of them are raade, betray so rauch weakness, and suffer so rauch misery? How does this comport with the infinite LV.J OF THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 107 wisdom, goodness, and power of the Creator, who undoubt edly could have made us otherwise, if he had pleased so to do? And nothing is raore certain, than that he did. ' He made us upright, but we sought out raany inventions.' We could not possibly have corae forth frora the hands of an infinitely good and Alraighty Maker, such aborainable, such wicked, such unhappy creatures as we are. To believe, that we did, is raore irrational and irapious, than atheisra itself. How we came to fall into this state of corruption and misery by the transgression of a covenant, made between God and our first parent or representative, is plainly set forth in the Mosaic history, where the origin of moral evil or sin, and of the universal disposition in all men to sin, that raystery so unaccountable to unassisted reason, is cleared up, and charged on our freedora, that is, on the high est perfection of our nature.. If then we were, and still are, free to do good or evil, thougli more inclinable to evil, does not sin, if we comrait it, ' lie at the door?' But since it is as plain frora the universal prevalence of corruption and sin, that we did originally fall, as it is frora daily experience, that we do continuslly fall ; in what light, from the beginning, must we have stood before our Maker? In that, no doubt, of offending children. As offenders, di vine justice raust have looked on us with an eye of infinite indignation, and resolved to punish us proportionably to our guilt. But on the other hand, as children, the divine goodness raust have beheld us with equal tenderness and pity, and resolved to shew us raercy. How then could God deterraine. Must his justice, or his raercy, take place ? Must he give way to his indigna tion, and inflict that punishment, which the violated raa jesty of his being, and his laws demanded? If he does, where is his mercy ? Or must he suffer his justice to be swal lowed up in his compassion, and give a full and free pardon? If he does, where is his justice? Is there a middle way? Can God set bounds to his attributes, either of justice or pit;y ? ,Can he be less than infinite in either ? Or is there a possibility of infinitely satisfying both? Of exacting the rigour of justice from the whole human race, and yet fully forgiving all men ? 108 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. Yes, for this difficulty, so infinitely surpassing, in the conception of all created understanding, all possibility of solution, the wisdom and goodness of the holy Trinity bave found a perfect reconciliation. A raati appears, and volun tarily offers to suffer and answer for all the rest ; and such a man he is, that God acceps the sacrifice ofhis life, for the sins ofthe world. As we were led into sin by our first parent, as we became corrupt and guilty in the sight of God, through the disobe dience of a representative ; it seeras reasonable, that a re presentative, if such there raay be, should atone for our guilt, and by sufifering, remove, our punishment. Nay, it is as reasonable, that we should become righteous by iraputed goodness, as guilty by iraputed sin. And as to our own actual sins, we having been betrayed into thera by a corruption of our nature, derived frora the original seduction, merely in consequence of God's oyvn ap pointment, who sent us into being through a natural entail of that corruption ; it appears most highly agreeable, not only to the goodness, but the very justice of God, that if a representative may take away the guilt of original, he raay reraove that of actual sin also, provided it is truly re pented of. But in order, that sin may be truly repented of, and all men become fit objects of the divine mercy, by a thorough reforraation, it farther appears to be reasonable, that the new representative should not only suffer the punishment due to our sins, which is death, but should likewise under take to create us anew, and instead of sinful creatures, as we are by nature, to make us holy and good in the sight of God. If we continue in sin, we cannot be objects of raercy at any rate, nor possibly be forgiven. Who now is able to do all this for us? Who can offer a sufficient ransora and atoneraent for the sins of all men ? Who is able to create us anew ? No creature, nor nuraber of created beings, though ever so highly dignified, can atone to God for the sins of others. They cannot suffer a punishment proportionable to the ma jesty ofhira who hath been offended ; nor to the importance of the law that hath been violated ; nor to the insolence of those who have repaid infinite goodness with an infinite pro- LV.J OF THE GREAT .SACRIFICE. 109 vocation ; nor to the danger of such, as raay raake light of sin, in case its atonement or punishment should not appear to be of the greatest weight. Besides, created beings have nothing of their own. All that they are, and all that they enjoy, is the pure gift of God. Wherewithal then can they make a proper atoneraent for the sraallest of their own faults ? How much less can they do it for the raost provoking criraes of others, of all mankind ? And, if they can make no atonement, neither can they presume to interpose, in the character of raediators, between God and their fellow creatures. The raost exalted creature in heaven would consider, that it must cost more than he could ofFer, ' to redeera the souls' of his fellow creatures, ' and so would be forced to let that alone for ever.' Nor can any being less than God, undertake to create raankind over again. He only, ' by whora all things were raade, and without whom was not any thing raade that was raade,' is able to raake the ' new creature,' to ' make all things new.' If, therefore, we are to be redeeraed frora sin, and the punishraent of sin, if we are to be made new crea tures, it raust be by God alone. Our teacher, our repre sentative, our sacrifice, raust be truly divine. But were it possible for a raere creature to redeera us, God would never admit of his interposition, nor suff'er him to do it, because by that means our gratitude and love raust be carried off frora God to the work of his hands, and all men taught to ' worship the creature,' even as, nay more ' than, the Creator.' To fill up these characters of a Creator and Redeemer, and to effect the high, and otherwise impossible, purposes of both, the son of God, the second person in the blessed Tri nity interposes ; and, that he may by ' the word of his power,' speak us into a new life, and suflfer the punishment due to our sins, ' becomes flesh, makes his tabernacle among raen, is delivered up to death for our offences, rises again for our justification,' and, placing himself at the right hand of his father, urges the raerits of his all-sufficient sacrifice for every one who believes in hira, and efi'ectually hears his call to repentance. Jesus Christ then, by dying for us hath made peace be- 110 THE NECESSITY AXD EFFICACY. [dISC. tween God and us ; hath procured us admittance into his faraily and service ; hath, both by precept and example, by his sabbaths, his sacraments, his rainisters, taught us how to serve him ; hath by his grace enabled us to perform whatsoever in that service is above our natural strength ; hath, by an assurance of eternal rewards and punishments, brought over desire and fear, our strongest springs of action, to assist in the struggles of virtue against teraptation. In the agony of that death, whereby sin and the old creature are destroyed, he cries out, ' It is finished,' the great work of rooting out evil, and subduing its author, is finished; and, iramediately on his rising from the dead, he cries, ' Behold ! I make all tilings new.' No sooner is the raoral world raade over again, than ' a new heaven and a new earth' are fitted to it. Man is a new creature, and conse quently all other things that were raade for hira, are become new to him. These things that lately tempted him to sin, now no less powerfully prompt him to gratitude, to love, to piety, to goodness, and to a new life. I hope by this tirae you are convinced that the mystery of our redemption, when tolerably understood, and fairly considered, not only justifies itself to right reason, as ne cessary, so that ' Christ the son of God, and sinless, must needs have suffered,' or neither the prophecies could have been fulfilled, nor mankind saved ; but claims also the won der and adoration ofall raen, who raay see in it an abyss of raercy and love, not less profound or extensive than its wisdom. How does the understanding stretch to compre hend this wisdora ! How should the heart dilate to make room for a right sense of that love ! Was it thou, the wisdora, the word, the light, the eter nal son of God ! Who from the beginning lay ' in the bo som of the Father !' Who sat with him on the throne of heaven, in unapproachable light and glory ! Who, with him, received the hallelujahs of all the heavenly hosts ! Hallelu jahs paid for their being, and that of all the worids, the thrones, the dominions, the principalities, the powers that were created in thee, by thee, and for thee ! Was it thou who came to save us frora sin, and all the horrors of the pit ! to raake us partakers of thy holiness, and of thy glory ! LV.J OF THK GREAT SACRIFICE. Ill And didst thou, frora the highest heavens, descend into this nether world, and ' take on thee the form of a servant' (a servant, not only to thy Father, but even to us) and ' wash our feet,' and our yet more filthy souls ! How infinite was thy humility ! how tender thy pity for us ! And, who are we Lord ! ' that thou shouldst come under our roof?' We are not among the great ones of thy creation, not among the principalities and powers ; no, but dust and ashes ! little [ weak ! foolish ! vain ! and 0 that this were all ! O Lord, we are wicked also ! rebels in arms against thy Father and thee ! enemies ! aliens ! ungrateful ! contemners of all thy infinite bounty to us! slaves 'sold under sin,' who have chosen to serve thy adversary rather than thee ! and prisoners for this in chains and darkness, underthe just sentence of death, teraporal and eternal ! And art thou come to save such a race of monsters from ourselves ! frora that adversary ! frora that sentence ! 0 inercy infinite ! O mys tery of mercy inconceivable ! And what hast thou done to save us ? What is the price thou hast laid down for our souls? O how can it be told ? What were the banishments, the oppression, the poverty, to which thou wast exposed, in comparison to the perse cutions and accusations, levelled with infernal bitterness against thy person and character ! What were these perse cutions and accusations, to thy agony in the garden, when by the extreme torture of thy thoughts the blood was forced through thy pores ! Or what again was this to the weight of all our sins, and the wrath of divine justice, poured at once upon thy head ! To this, death such as ours, would have been pleasure, and despair, joy. It would have been impos sible for thy huraan nature to have sustained this load, or withstood the violence of such a rack, had not the divine nature upheld the human, and hardened it for the horrible encounter. And now, blessed Jesus, having accorapanied thee, but O at two great a distance, like thy first disciples, we have heard the false accusations laid against thee ; we have heard the popular cry set up for thy blood; we have heard thy judge acquit and conderan thee on the sarae evidence. Now they strip thee ! clothe thee again in purple as a raock 112 THE XECESSITY AXD EFFICACY [dISC. king! and bind thy temples with a crown of thorns! Now they buffet that sacred head, where infinite wisdora is seated ! Now they load that awful face, adored by angels, with nau seous spittle ! Now they tear the flesh frora off thy bones with their scourges ! All this time we hear no coraplaints nor answers from thee, thou humble, thou silent Lamb of our salvation ! Nay, as often as we can discover thy counte nance through the blood, and svveat, and spittle which be smear it, we behold in it a settled composure, raixed with corapassion and tenderness. What dignity in thy humility! What heroism in thy patience ! what a triuraph is raercy raaking over malice ! But the cross, that altar for the great sacrifice is now pre pared ; the amazing, the melancholy procession sets out for the place of execution ; and lo thou art nailed to the ac cursed tree, for the greater reproach, between two thieves. Were we as much thy raerabers, blessed Jesus, as we ought to be, we should feel these nails as keenly as thou didst. Behold ! thy raurderers taunt and deride thy agonies, and endeavour to prove thee not to be the son of God nor the king of Israel, by the reproach of thy cross ; and so the noblest instance of goodness that ever was exhibited to mankind, is represented by art and malice, as nothing but impotence and imposture. Let heaven and earth attend to thy return for this, as to a sound more sublime and sweet than that which is sent up to the throne by the whole celes tial choir ; ' Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.' O surely thou couldst not pray in vain for the pardon of sin, now raade thy own, at the instant of atoning for it with thy blood. If this thy prayer was not heard and granted, we all perish for ever, inasmuch as we all have joined in the set of thy murder. Our sins as well as theirs, have spit in thy face, buflfeted thee, crowned thee with thorns; we as well as they have nailed thee to the cross, bave laboured to dishonour thee in the sight of infidels, have shed thy precious blood. What other words are those we hear frora thee, more ex pressive of raisery than the groans of the damned, ' My God, my God, why hast thou fotsaken me !' Yet in these words, which beyond all others ever uttered, raark the hei nousness of sin, what consolation, could he taste it, for him LV.J OF THE GREAT -SACRIFICE. 113 who dies in despair i What must sin be which drove thee to this? How shall he be lost who hath thee for a sacrifice, and a fellow-suff'erer ? How the blood begins to stagnate in thy wounds ! What a ghastly paleness overspreads -thy counte nance i How those eyes that have often swam in tears of tenderness for the miseries of mankind, now roll in the shadows of death, of voluntary death, suffered for our sakes and by our hands ! Hah ! What cry is that ! What darkness ! What shaking of the earth I What yawning of graves ! What rending of rocks ! The dead, the very rocks, hear thy dying cry, O Sa viour of souls ! The sun hides his face from thy death, who gave him being. Hell feels the stroke of that death, which destroys him that had the power of death, and rousing her infernal fires, throws the upper earth into convulsions ! What language of angels can do justice to the wonders of this scene? If we have but hearts we want not their tongues. If our infinite benefactor, who searches the heart, reads himself beloved, and sin hated, .in that seat of our aff'ections, then it is true that we know Christ, and him crucified. But if we read or hear of his death, with as little concern as we do that of Caesar, or with less than we feel forthat ofa favourite character in a romance, what ought we to think both, of our understandings and hearts ? And now, that the extreme heinousness of sin is more fully laid open by the sufl'erings of Christ, than it can possi bly be by any,- or all other means ; by eyen the torraents of hell; what judgment shall we pass on ourselves, and our condition, if we continue in sin, if we love it, if we even pre fer it to Christ himself? Nay, if by dur repeated acts of wickedness we ungratefully crucify him afresh, and put him to open shame again? If by ten thousand acts of the kind we repeatedly crucify him, and at the same time mock him by our professions ? This is going farther than ever the un believing Jews did. They did not pretend to, be in earnest, as we do, when they called him their King. They crucified him in the. character of declared enemies; we in that of friends and worsTiippers. They fulfilled the prophecies, and even concurred with Christ's own intention, in the cruelties they exercised on his, natural body; we transgrefs.? the com- VOL. III. ' 114 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. mandments of God, and disappoint the gracious intention of Christ, by those we infiict on his spiritual body, forwhich he sacrificed the natural, as less dear to. him, and as less sensible of pain. Is all this now to pass as pure ingratitude? Is there no mixture of folly here ? May souls, so extremely vile and unr worthy, hug themselves in their baseness, Tand always take insensibility for safety? No, no, sin must end in misery; and the sin of a Christian, wilfully ' treading under foot the blood' of Christ, in the keenest misery. Ingratitude there fore of this dye is not so much folly, as infatuation, or hell is no longer hell. The sufferings of God incarnate despised, and wickedness continually ffung in his face,, by men who profess themselves his disciples, his servants, his worship pers, must meet with its full reward, if in that pit of fire and darkness there are torraents sufficient to requite such wick edness. What must sin be, when nothing but the blood of God's only son could wash it away? When God spared not his only-begotten, his well-beloved son, in whom he was well pleased, but poured on hira, in the character of our repre sentative, the vengeance due to our off'ences ? If Godspared not the iraputation of sin in his son, how shall he spare sin itself in us, who cannot sin, without forcing a new nail or spear into the body of Christ? ' If sin could do so much in a green tree, what must it do in a dry.' If by our perse verance in wickedness we turn the sacrifice made for us into our greatest guilt, who shall atone for this guilt? What other sacrifice do we look for ? Who will off'er higher for our salvation, than Christ? ' Who shall come after God?' It is irapossible to be saved from the punishment of sin, without being first saved from sin itself. As Christ wsts born for the true Christian, so the 'true Christian 'is born' a-new to Christ ' by water and the spirit.' But this second birth never takes place, till the old man dies to sin for Christ, as Christ did for hira. ' Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, let us arra ourselves with the like raind, for he that hath suff'ered in the fiesh, hath ceased from sin ; that he no more should live the rest of his life in the flesh, in the luSts of men, but to the will of God. Our life cannot be hid with LV.J .DF THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 115 Christ in God,' till we have * mortified our members which are upon the earth,' till we are dead to this world, and our fleshly nature, till ' our aflfections' are removed ' from things on earth, and set on things above.' We must ' mortify the deeds of the flesh,' if we would live the life of the righteous. ' They that are Christ's have crucified the afTections and lusts.' It is true, that 'by the righteousness of one,' that is Christ, 'the free gift hath come upon all men unto justi fication of life. Where sin abounded, grace d\A. much more abound. What shail we say then ? ShaU we sin, that grace may abound ? God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein ? Know we not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death ? We are therefore buried with him by baptism into death ; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory ofthe Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life ; for if we have been planted together into the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection ; knowing that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin,' for he that is dead is freed from sin. Now, if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him. Let us not therefore suff'er sin to reign any longer in our mortal body, that we should obey it in the lusts thereof. When we were the servants of sin, we were free from righteousness ; but now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, we have our fruit unto holi ness, and the end everlasting life.' " Instead of encouraging ourselves in wickedness because Christ hath atoned for it by his death ; we see here, thatthe strongest arguments and motives for repentance, for a tho rough reformation of manners, for a new and holy life, are taken from that very death, from that very atoneraent. Bap tism is but an erapty cereraony, a cheat put on ourselves, and an insult off'ered to Christ, in his own solemn institution, if it is not considered, as the very death and crucifixion of all that is vile and sinful in us ; if there is not truly init 'a death unto sin, and a new birth unto righteousness.' To what purpose would it be to call men out of this world, to bring them into God's family, to make them his children, and to place them round his table ; if no change is to^ be I 2 116 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. made in them, if they are still to ' be conformed to this world,' if they may still be slaves to their fleshly corruptions,, if they may continue, as before, the children of God's eneray? the children of God must fear and love, raust obey, must re serable their Father, or they can be his only in name and pretence. There is nothing surer than that our baptism is a charter of inestiraable privileges; but it is as sure, that those privileges are held only by the suit and service of a truly Christian life^ contracted for and vowed at the time when we were washed, and new clothed, for the train of our heavenly King. ¦This doctrine will startle many; as it will, to assure thera, that Christ died not for them, as on this day, unless they will die for him. He kept this soleranity, for the first tirae, in torture of body, in anguish of soul, in a baptism of blood, in the horrors of death; and can we keep it in luke warraness, in indifference, in ease and security, in a life like the rest of this world? If we can, we are none ofhis; we feel not with him, neither the sharpness of his pains, nor the weight of our own sins ; we are not, cannot be, raembers of his body. No, were we all one body of Christ, as in one body there can be but one mind, we should all be animated, all governed by the mind which is in Christ Jesus, that divine, that holy, that almighty raind, which suggests the thoughts, forras the resolutions, and regulates the actions of every man in whom it presides. There is no wider nor more distinguishable difference, than that between the mind of Christ, and the mind ofthe unregenerate. The dishonest have not his mind, which is truth and light itself. The incontinent have not his mind, for he is purity in perfection. The proud have not the raind of Christ, who washed the feet ofhis own disciples. The revengeful have not the raind of Christ, who loved, prayed for, and healed his eneraies. The despiser of God's word, the breaker ofhis sabbath, the neglecter ofhis table, have not the raind of Christ, are by no raeans united to his body, inasrauch as it is by these that the raind and spirit of Christ conveys itself through all the true and living raera bers of that body. The idolizer of his own reason hath not the raind of Christ, who had infinite wisdora and humility together; whereas in this raan there is nothing but ignorance LV.J OF THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 117 and conceit, or he could never have formed an high opinion of his own understanding. All these are more or less disposed to infidelity, and particularly to take oifence at the cross of Christ. The dishonest worldling cannot think of forsaking all, and fol lowing Christ with a cross on his shoulders. The inconti nent is with difficulty brought to believe, that God requires the denial and raortification of passions, raade by hiraself a part of our nature. The proud, who will not suffer the smallest inconvenience from his inferiors, cannot believe, that God could stoop to such indignities from men. The ill-natured, who will even take pains to hurt and afflict others,, cannot conceive, that any being could suffer so much, to make others happy. The revengeful, who is so delighted with retorting injuries, hath no notion, that Christ meant to save his raurderers. The conceited disputer of this world cannot see the necessity of an atoneraent for one so righteous, nor of instruction for one so wise, as he is ; and what he cannot see, he will not believe. And are all these to be struck off the list .of Christians ? Most surely, if they continue the sarae, or the Holy Spirit knows not what a Christian is. This, you will say, thins the Christian, and crowds the heathen world prodigiously. Do not mistake the raatter, as to the addition, you seem to imagine will be hereby raade to the nuraber of heathens. Ifyou are one who think to take the benefit ofthis disraiss, you will be grievously disappointed. You have seen the light, and must account for it. You fly from it, because it makes manifest and reproves your evil deeds ; or you brave it with an open perseverance, in works of darkness ; and do you hope to herd among the heathens, who are to receive the smallest number of stripes ? The wicked heathen shews himself unworthy of the reason bestowed on hira, forgetful of the high rank he is placed in by his Maker, and ungrateful for all he enjoys, or rather abuses. In all these respects you are as culpable as he ; and besides, ' having been once enlightened, and having tasted the good word of God, you fell away both' in principle and practice, ' crucifying to yourself the Son of God afresh, and putting, him to open shame.' The heathen sinned without the light ; you against it. He knew not the truth; you 'held it in unrighteousness.' He abused this 118 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. world, and his own nature ; yon have done the same ; and over and above, have ' trodden under foot the Son of God, have counted the blood of the covenant an unholy thing, and have done despight unto the Spirit of Grace. Of how much sorer punishment therefore shall you be thought wor thy,* against whom both the works and the word of God bear witness, and cry aloud for vengeance ?. The bountiful intentions of God the Creator only have failed in the hea then j they, together with the infinitely gracious purposes of God the Redeemer, have been disappointed in you ; hitherto disappointed, I raean ; for if you will even yet open your eyes to the light, and turn your footsteps into the paths of God, you vvill find that the prayer of Christ for you ou the cross was heard, and that ' the mercy of God endureth for ever.' We are all ready enough to cry out upon the cowardice of all our Saviour's apostles, and the treachery of one; upon the malice of his accusers, the iniquity of his judge, the cruelty of his executioners ; but do not consider, that, in all this, we condemn ourselves. What danger dare we face, what man of power, what faction, have we the boldness to oppose, for Christ and his religion ? How small must be that sum of money, or that worldly interest, that cannot bribe us to betray the cause of Christ and his church, the cause of truth and virtue, which was dearer to him than his life ? And how little of Judas's remorse do we feel for it, when it is done ? How artfully is his divinity undermined among us, and all his rairacles charged with imposture, by sorae ; while the rest of us stand by as unconcerned, as we could do, had we never called ourselves by his name ? How carelessly do we sit in judgment on the merits ofhis cause; and after a mere cold acquittal, with little or no notice taken of the infinite good he hath done among us, give him up to the outrage of his enemies ? How do we mock him with our hypocritical professions? How buffet him with our bitter disputes ? How spit in his face, how mangle his flesh, how deluge his blo.od, how crucify, how murder him, with our crimes I How we act over again the dreadful tra gedy of this day ! How the light sickens ! How darkness spreads itself over the whole earth ! O return, return, thou eternal light, into our under standing. O return, return, thou life, thou warmth of the LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 119 soul, into our hearts. Shew us our viieness ; revive our piety ; with thee let us die to this world, with thee let us arise to a new life ; and to thee, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, shall be ascribed all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. DISCOURSE LVI. THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. St. John, vi. 50. This is the bread which cometh down from Heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. It is agreed upon by the generality of those who have con sidered the matter with the greatest attention, that no crea ture of God can subsist a single moraent without the aid of his supporting hand. The sun shines, and the rain descends as he directs. The plants grow, and animals live upon the supply of that nourishment which he affords them. ' The eyes of all, therefore, wait upon him, and he giveth them their meat in due season. He openeth his hand, and filleth all things living with plenteousness. He giveth fodder to the cattle, and feedeth the young ravens that call upon him.' Nothing is independent but himself. If creatures, void of reason, do in some sense even ' pray for their daily bread,' why shall not we much rather do it, who are, by adoption, the children of the great provider; and who know our absolute dependence on him? As our nature is made up of a soul and a body, so we stand in daily need of a distinct kind of food for each. Con tinual supplies of both are necessary to the spiritual and temporal life of every Christian, and their effects and cir cumstances are alike. In speaking, therefore, of the spiritual food, which I intend for the subject of this discourse, I shall take frequent 120 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY. [DISC. occasion to explain the nature, and press the necessity of it, from the exact resemblance it bears to that of the body, a resemblance authorized by Christ and his holy spirit, and consequently affording, not only the most lively illustra tions, but arguments also sufficient for our conviction. Now we are to observe here at the entrance, that in taking this food of the soul, which we do more especially in the sacraraent of the Lord's Supper, we at once endeavour to nourish in ourselves the principle of eternal life, and to offer up on the altar of our great benefactor, an act or proof of gratitude, required and accepted by him for the highest instance of raercy, whicii he could give or we receive. As to the first of these heads, wherein the spiritual in terest and life of our souls, rather than our gratitude, is concerned ; we are to take notice, that piety and virtue, the health and life of the soul can no mbre be raaintained with out the grace of God, which is their proper food, than the health and life of the body, without ordinary raeat and drink. We are farther to take notice, that continual supplies are as necessary in the one case as in the other. God raight, it is true, in either case, have made once feeding sufficient for ever ; but then we should have forgot our dependence on him. To prevent this, he hath put us on daily supplies, hath so bounded both the heart and stomach of a man, that the hope of supporting the spiritual life within us for ever, by once only receiving the grace of God, vvould be as vain as the hope of living here for twenty years in health and strength on one meal. Our outward health and life depend on continual re cruits of nourishraent, thrown into the stomach, there di gested, and thence sent off into the various parts of the body. Not less necessary to our inward health and life are perpetual supplies of pious meditations, devout approaches to God, and vigorous resolutions, duly matured in the heart, and thence dispensed in plenty through all the powers, pas sions, and affections of the raan. The soul lives on thought as the body does on raeat and drink ; but to live for ever It must be nourished with good thoughts, wbich nothing but the divine grace can either suggest or bring to per fection. The word of God, and our own experience, leave LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 121 US no room to doubt of this truth. We are, therefore, never to forget our feeder, lest we should prove ourselves more brutishly foolish than the dog or ox. It is easy for you tojudge what must become. of that soul which prefers the body to itself, which, like other animals, is careful to seek for bodily food, but thinks of nothing higher. Can this be the property of him who goes erect, and lifts his face towards the heavens ? Of him who is indued with reason, whose soul is intended for imraortality ? By the death of Christ we are redeemed, and in his last supper the benefits of that death are conveyed to us under the notion of spiritual food, for he bids us ' eat his body and drink his blood', not corporally, for the food is not intended for our bodies, but spiritually, inasmuch as his flesh ' is meat indeed,' and his blood ' drink indeed,' for the soul. Our heinous off'ences, whereby the anger of God is justly kindled against us, have made a propitiation necessary. The dependence and infirmity of our nature have raade the aids of God's Holy Spirit as; necessary. In the blessed sa craraent we plead the great atoneraent, and at the sarae time receive continual reinforcements of those aids. Both are admirably represented in this ordinance. The breaking and pouring out of the eleraents convey to us a lively notion of our Saviour's body mangled, and his blood shed on the cross ; nor do they, as comraon meat and drink, less aptly ' figure to ns that heavenly food of God's grace, whereby our souls are nourished to eternal life. Nor do they only represent ; they also convey the food, and apply the merit of his sacrifice, directly to the soul of every worthy receiver, that is, of every truly penitent and believing receiver. But as a body, whose appetite is palled, and digestion lost, can neither receive pleasure nor nourish ment from the best sort of food ; so a soul whose faith is dead, and whose religious warmths are extinguished, can re ceive no satisfaction, no recruit of strength from the sacra mental repast. The death of Christ cannot atone for unre pented sins, nor can his grace feed a soul that can find' no favour in it. On the contrary, as the most wholesome food turns to corruption in a vitiated storaach and a distempered body, so thebread of eternal life becomes poison to a stub- 122 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. born and unbroken heart, and is the cause why ' many are weak and sickly, and many sleep.' Some, therefore, absent themselves from the table ofthe Lord, asif ' the damnation' threatened by St. Paul to the un worthy receiver, were more to be feared than the sentence of death eternal, pronounced on him who does not receive, by our Lord, in these words, ' Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that eateth not the flesh ofthe Son of Man, and drinketh not his blood, hath no life in him.' All the ill effects of unworthily receiving this sacrament are suffered, and the sins too committed, by not receiving. He who does not receive, makes himself, for the time, a stranger to all those necessary meditations, self-examinations, devotions, watchings, which call down the grace of God, and give it growth in the heart of a Christian. Besides, not receiving isa more direct transgression of Christ's com mandment, than receiving unworthily, and shews, at least, an equal indifference for his body and blood. The neglecter of this most holy ordinance cuts hiraself off from the catho lic church, and all its privileges, particularly from the com munion of saints and the means of grace, while he lets him* self loose to every temptation, and every criminal liberty, with which the watchful enemy can buffet an unguarded heart. He proclaims peace with his sins, and war with God. Tbis is that death of the soul spoken of by our Sa viour, which diff'ers not, but in name, from the damnation, mentioned by the apostle. Why are the words of St. Paul more minded, in this case, than those of Christ ? Do they not signify the same thing ? Are they not equally terrible ? Or is there any other way to avoid the precipice on either hand, but by [going constantly to the Lord's table with a truly penitent and believing heart ? No, but then this requires some pains by way of pre paration ; whereas staying away is only an easy neglect. Going is giving up all our sins, perhaps the greater part of our interests and pleasures ; but by absenting ourselves we can wanton in these, pursue those, and avoid the painful mortification of repentance, and of changing both our na ture and our habits. There are many, however, wbo, though they firmly be lieve in the absolute necessity of this spiritual fo d, yet LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 123 cannot be persuaded, that frequent feeding on it is as neces sary ; and so repair to it but once or twice in the year, and that but coldly, as to a repast, they have no great relish to. Nevertheless, coldly as they then attend it for want of an habitual spirit of piety, I will go no further, than to their own breasts, for a convincing proof, that frequent receiving is necessary. Tell me, you who raake this unhappy plea against the express commandment ofyour Lord, do you not find yourself a better man, more watchful over your own ways, and more guarded against temptations of all kinds, for some tirae before and after receiving, than in the other parts of your life. Answer this question honestly to your self, and then' farther say, whether it would not be happy for you, ifyou were always as good a raan, and if, in order to it, you were to receive this blessed sacraraent every day of your life. But in case you are not very much a better man for receiving, it is only owing to your receiving so seldom. Try the experiment. Be a constant and careful comraunicant for one year ; and my soul for yours, you will find your resolutions better supported, your temptations greatly baffled, and your piety raore enlivened, invigorated. Pleasure will succeed to dryness in your heart, and ' peace in the Holy Ghost' will take the place within you of a war with God and goodness. Pleasure, you know, coraes with habit, and habit with repeated acts. We are apt to think often of that which pleases, and not less apt to feel an increase of this pleasure on a long continuance of that thinking, which in proportion as it produces an additional degree of love to the object thought on, produces likewise an equal degree of aversion to its opposite, if such there is. A mind, so unhappy as to fix its thoughts on an hurtful or seducing object, we see, suffers in point of virtue, just as a body does in point of health, when the depraved appetite is accustomed to, and pleased with, unwholesome food. Such a mind equally hates virtue, and loves vice. The vicious entertainment, wherewith it feeds itself, becomes, at once, its delight and its destruction. It preys on corrup tion, is satiated with carrion, and bloated with the princi ples of death. On the other hand, the mind which bath wisely chosen 124 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC, to feed itself with virtuous thoughts, enjoys a state of spi ritual health and strength, reserabling the soundness of that body, whereof the appetite is used to, and pleased with wholesome food. This raind equally hates vice, and loves virtue. InHhis raind, good thoughts are perpetually pro ducing good resolutions, and those again, good actions. Unfading pleasures attend each step of this happy pro gress ; pleasures, that not only corafort the heart, but take in the whole raan, carry the understanding with them, and ravish the very conscience. This is breathing the air, , as well as eating the food of heaven. However in those rainds, who are habituated to the most refined and religious way of thinking, so many evil thoughts, and sometimes even sinful habits of thinking have crept in during their unguarded hours ; and the enemy hath sown so rauch tares araong their wheat, while they slept, that great watchfulness and care to weed out these, and encourage the good seed, are becorae necessary, lest when the harvest arrives, the heavenly reapers should find a crop raore fit for the fire, than for the garner of God. And that the bread of life may not be wanting to rainds thus prepared for it, we raust, at every opportunity, repair to the Lord's table, ' Who satisfieth the erapty soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.' It is impossible, he should live for ever, who goes not thither ; and most highly iraprobable, that he who goes but seldora should feed the ])riiiciple of eternal life in hiraself during a long faraine, and that often recurring, of its necessary nourishraent. As the storaach, so tbe soul, by too long a fast loses its appe tite and power of digestion. In long interruptions of self- examination, of serious refiection, and of close corarauni cation with the fountain of strength, evil habits gain, and good ones lose ground ; conscience is laid asleep, and the soul starved out of all its vigour. He who raakes a long journey, especially if his road lies upward, ought to be strong and active ; and, in order to sufficient strength, should have frequent and plentiful refreshraents on the way. The traveller to heaven particu larly ought to consider how far that place is frora hira, how high it is above hira, and what necessity there is, that he should, as often as possible, have recourse to that gracious LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 125 provider, who saith, ' Come unto me all ye that travel and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you.' Without this refreshment, the soul will soon faint and give up : and as there is no standing still, will be tempted by the smoothness and down-hill tendency of the contrary road, into that common jaunt of pleasure which ends in hell. A real Christian cannot be long absent from the sacra ment, because he knows, that without holiness no raan shall see the Lord ; that holiness without grace is impossible, and that grace is not to be expected from God, its only dis penser, but in the way of his Own appointment. He is per fectly sensible of all this, and therefore never absents him self from the table of God. But there are other Christians who believe it as well as he, who yet, by one temptation or another, are often, nay, for the greater part of their lives, hindered to receive ; that is, there are a sort of Christians, who have good principles only to condemn their bad practices. That Christ will not acknowledge such as his, we have his own word for it, for of all those who constantly, or generally absent themselves from his table, there is not a single one, who in other respects leads the life of a Christian. Though therefore they raay say to hira at the last day, ' Lord, have we not believed in thy name, and in thy name cast out devils,' he will answer, ' I know ye not ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity,' ye that have broken my commandraent, and cut yourselves off" from my body. Dreadful words frora our redeemer and judge ! frora him who is our shepherd, our sponsor, our physician, our spi ritual coraraander, our Lord and raaster ! frora hira who -hath purchased us with his precious blood! Where can the Christian sheep hope for pasture and protection frora the wolf, but in the enclosures of Christ ? Where should the children of God look for their daily bread, but at his table, through whom they are adopted, wko is their security with the Father, and who raust either feed them, or give them up ? Where should the sickly soul apply for medicine, but at his hands, who alone can heal it ? To what maga zine, but that stored up for him by the captain of his salva tion, should the spiritual soldier have recourse for military provisions ? Whose invitations should he attend, or whose 126 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. commands obey, who hath been bought off frora the slavery of sin, and brought into the free, the honourable, and happy service of God, but those of his gracious purchaser ? And as this purchase is made by the blood of his Redeemer, where, but in the cup of blessing, can he find the price, which he is to pay and plead for his soul. There is not, that I know of, any one relation we stand in to God, as Christians, that does not make a constant and careful attendance on the Lord's supper, a necessary and indispensable duty, for he hath commanded it, as the chief means to make us ' strong in the Lord,' for it is the food of the soul ; and as a testimony of gratitude, for this is the grand coraraeraoration of that death, which alone can give us life. If, particularly, we consider ourselves as by nature slaves to sin, and dooraed to eternal raisery, but redeemed and set at liberty by the blood of Christ, we must be utterly incapable of gratitude, if we do not, on all occasions, call to mind this instance of infinite goodness with all possible love and thankfulness. And as our great benefactor hath himself appointed an holy institution, by our attendance whereon he expressly and pecuharly requires our acknowledgments for this astonishing act of compassion towards us, we cannot refuse that attendance, without, in effect, either denying the favour, or refusing our thanks ; nay, without returning again into that state of slavery to sin, and that just dread of infamy and misery, from which he died to deliver us. All the benefits of his death, forgiveness of sins, grace, raercy, and peace with offended oranipotence, are conveyed to us in this holy ordinance. To decline it therefore is in forra to disclaira those benefits, in as rauch as it is presumption in the ungrateful to hope for thera, especially through any channel, but that of Christ's own appointraent. Besides, as this blessed sacraraent is not only the formal act and seal, whereby Christ, in his last will and testament, bequeaths to us all our titie to an inheritance in heaven, but also the chief raeans of imparting to us those aids of his Holy Spirit, without which it will be irapossible to make good that titie, he who stays away from this sacrament, puts himself again, as I just now observed, where his old sinful nature left him, and renounces at once, all the assistance. LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 127 titles, and benefits of that religion, on which alone he pro fesses his entire dependence for eternal salvation. What name shall we give to such a professor? Will foolish, or mad, or wicked, give him a just character ? No, all together they are too feeble to exhibit the picture of such a monster, in whom there is so great a mixture of folly promoting vice, and vice maturing folly, such a professing and denying of the same religion! such an acknowledgment of his own weakness, and presumption in his own strength ! Such a contempt for his own reason, and yet such a preference of it to the wisdom of Christ! Such an attempt, not only to look two ways at once, but to go two contrary ways at once ! in short, such an amazing jumble of all falsehoods, all inconsistencies, all sins, as never did raeet, never possi bly can meet, this single case only excepted, in any one mind. « Are we the servants of God ? And do we, in good earnest, mean to do his work ? What ! work without strength ! Or hope for strength without meat and drink ! ' He,' saith the apostle, • who will not work, let him not eat.' Though this is spoken of raeat for the body, it is as justly applicable to food for the soul. He that will not do the work of God, how dare he presurae to spunge on the spiritual food at his table? But on the other hand, he that does not eat, cannot work, for want of strength. ' What shall we do,' say the Jews to Christ, ' that we may work the works of God ?' In answer to this question, he first tells them, what is the work of God, namely, ' to believe on him whom God had sent ;' and then proceeds to describe and recommend to them the bread of God, which alone could enable them to believe in hira, or to lead a life conforraable to that belief. And so strongly does he insist on the reserablance of this spiritual, to bodily food, calling it twenty .tiraes in the sarae passag by the sarae narae, that we cannot help thinking the fre quent use of it as necessary to the eternal, as that of out ward food is to the teraporal life, eiSpecially as he there, in the strongest terms assures us, we ' have no life in us, if we do not eat and drink it.' If we call ourselves the servants and dependants of Christ, and if he vouchsafes, as indeed he does, to call us his friends, how can we possibly turn a deaf ear to those 128 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. gracious invitations he perpetually gives us to his house and table ? He will neither know nor own those for his, who will not corae in even on an afiFectionate corapulsion. Were our love in any proportion to the goodness, or our reverence to the greatness of our divine inviter, not death itself would be able to frighten us frora his table. Since he is pleased to accept of our eating- and drinking there, as a raark of our reverence and affection for him, and since there is no diffi culty in doing this, but such as we are infinitely concerned to overcome for the eternal safety and welfare of our own souls, if we absent ourselves, we are neither his friends, nor our own. Did some rich and powerful prince raake frequent. feasts for his neighbours of lower rank and condition ; did he in repeated and pressing invitations assure thera, that he wonld consider all who came as his friends, and all who did not as his enemies ; we raay be sure not one would stay away, who either feared his power or wanted his favour. They would, all of thera, constantly attend, his table, dressed out in their best apparel, and eager to pay the expected corapliment. Garraents fit for such company, must be had for love, raoney, or credit, cost what they will. The new-bought ground must be left unviewed, the oxen, just 'purchased, must re main unproved in the field, and even the bride, on the day of her marriage, raust wait, till his highness is attended. But in case sorae of the princes dependents should ab sent themselves from three or four of his entertainments, for one they appeared at, and he should see thera frora his windows visiting his eneray at next door, I leave you, who so often stay away frora the Lord's table, only that you may confederate with his enemy, to judge in what light these trimmers, these time-servers, raust stand before their great patron and benefactor. Shall we not be as ready to answer the invitation of Christ, that patron, to whom ' all power in heaven and earth is given,' that benefactor, who hath laid down his Hfe to deliver us frora the most wretched kind of slavery, and to exalt us into ' the glorious liberty,' the happy inheritance, • of the son's of God ?' Is ' the mighty God, the Prince of peace,' less powerful to befriend or hurt us than an earthly patron?. Is his person less respectable, or his presence less LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURISHMENT. 129 desirable ? Is his food less delicious, or his guests less en titled to our love ? Is the protection of a man worth so rauch courting, and that of God fit only to be slighted ? Is bodily meat and drink, which cannot long please, cannot long pre serve life, and raay destroy it, worth so rauch bustle and at tendance, and those of the soul, which if a raan partake of, ' he shall live for ever,' worth nothing ? Though these are questions fitter to be asked in a raad-house, than in this, yet nothing but stupidity here, equal to distraction there, can blunt the sting, or deaden the sense, of the reproach they carry with them to the general practice of those who hear me. Is it possible that any one of you, who here at least in this house, if not at your own, hath asked his ' daily bread' from our common ' father which is in heaven,' from the great dispenser of spiritual sustenance, should abso lutely refuse it, when offered, imraediately after praying and entreating God to give it, as you have all done raore than once this day, since you entered the house of God, and came in sight ofhis table, should not accept it, though he sees it is there ready to be delivered to him ! You have asked, why will you not receive? You seek, and here may find, why draw you back your hand, and go away empty? You have knocked, and behold ' God hath opened to you,' why turn you about, and suffer his door to be shut at your heels ? ' Give us this day or daily bread,', say you, ' Take, eat,' saith Christ. We will neither take nor eat, you reply. What earthly fa ther would bear so perverse a child ? What entertainer in this world endure such insolent mockery in his guests ? How, then, think you, shall the majesty of heaven digest this worse than blasphemous, trifling? You did not know, it may be, what you was saying when you was repeating the Lord's prayer. What ! not attend to your own words, when you was speaking to God I Or, perhaps, you changed your mind. Did you so? And what if God should change his too, and resolve never to make you the same off'er again, nor afford you another opportunity ? A certain wealthy clergyman, deeply aflfected with this observation, that the tables of great raen are much better attended than that of God, fell into a method of asking his parishioners, great and small, by ten at a tirae, to dine with hira on Sundays. They all carae in their turns, neatly VOL, III. K 130 TJIE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY [dISC. dressed, and with good appetites and cheerful countenances sat out his entertainments. Some, on a general invitation, gave him their company at every dinner. A soon as all had done him that favour, he then invited them to the sacraraent on the Sunday following, at which time, observing almost the whole congregation, as usual, quitting the church iramediately after sermon, he called them back, and said ; I am heartily concerned to find you prefer my company, who am but a vile raortal, like yourselves, to the company and communion of Christ : and my meat, which is only dust and ashes, to the bread of eternal life. After this, can you call yourselves Christians, candidates for heaven, ' and lovers of God raore than of earthly things V There is the table of God ; and there Christ is going in a few moments, to feed those who will come to him with his own precious flesh and blood. You, in the mean time, are turning your backs on him, facing about to the world, which you re nounced by a solemn vow, when you were baptized, and going home to feed on the flesh of beasts. Go, then, as you have no appetite for this kind of food ; go, and mess with the swine on dung, and with the serpent on dust. Go, earth to earth, and ashes to ashes, for this is your own chosen por tion, and this the lot you like best ; while Christ and the true Christian unite, and spirit feeds on spirit. How severe! but how just! Do you feel it? Oh, how then would you feel, if Christ himself were to take the pul pit, and to speak to you, as, surely well he raight, in words to this eff'ect ? " I often laid before you the necessity of grace in order to a good life, and of that, in order to your everlasting hap piness. I provided for you the raeans of grace at my table, and by my ministers continually and importunately invited you to corae and receive those raeans, prepared for you at the expense of ray life. But you shut your ears to their voice ; you despised ray entertainments ; you turned your backs on rae ; you counted ray blood of the covenant an unholy thing, and did despite unto the spirit of grace. Wedded to your own ways, and fond of a wicked life, you shunned the raeans of reforraation. Presurae not therefore to call yourselves by my name. ' I know you not.' Had LVI.J OF SPIRITUAL NOURIS.HMENT. 13i you loved me, no worldly considerations, no amusements, no pleasures, could have prevented your paying your ac knowledgments for my death, in the way appointed and ex pected by me. Had you meant to honour me, you could not have so closely adhered to your sins, and kept at so great a distance frora the opportunity of uniting with rae. You give the reproachful name of infidels to the Jews who bought, and of traitor, to Judas, who sold me, without con sidering the shameful traffic you drive on in ray narae in the raidst of your pretended faith and professions. Pilate the pagan, having found no fault in rae, gave me over to a cross on raount Calvary. YoU, a Christian, daily crucify me afresh before the world by an obstinate perseverance in those sins, which I died to atone, and which nevertheless you love so rauch better than rae, that, rather than forsake them, you forsake me, and basely refuse to comraeraorate that atoneraent. How 1 bore to be buffeted, spit on, and crucified by my enemies, you know; but how I shall bear to be buffeted, spit on, and crucified a-new by you, my professed friends and disciples, after all I have suff'ered for you, ought indeed to be a little better con sidered by you, than it is. The miserable and total de struction of the Jews, so soon after my crucifixion, shews, I can, not only ' walk humbly, and love mercy,' but ' do justly too,' and ' execute vengeance on sins like yours. For other men, who every where, particularly at my table, discover a due sense of my love, I gave my life; for you I lost iL You raay go on to hug yourself in a notion, that you are only ungrateful ; but the time approaches a-pace, when you shall feel, you have been equally stupid ; and miserably lament your having sinned as grievously against your own soul by neglecting the food of eternal life, and the necessary raeans of your salvation, as against my ho nour, in suffering my table to be spread in vain. Where is your faith, that it does not set the horrors of hell before you, from which I died to deliver you? Where is your faith, that it does not set the joys of heaven before you, to which I died to entitle you? * Ye dead, hear the voice of the son of God, and ye shall live.' Oh unhappy people, lost to me, and to all goodness ! ' Hearing ye hear, and will not -understand ; seeing ye see, and will not perceive ; your K 2 132 THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY, &C. [dISC hearts are waxed gross, your ears are dull of hearing, your eyes are closed; lest at any tirae ye should see with your eyes, and hear with your ears, and "understand with your heart, and should be converted, and I should heal you.' " Dreadful expostulation ! how does it thunder on the dulness of our ears ! how does it pierce and appal our har dened hearts ! Ere you, the contemner of God's table, turn your back again on him, give me, his unworthy minister, leave to ask you ; did the son of God submit to be persecuted, spit on, buffeted, scourged, crucified, and, in all, derided, to save you, a poor despicable offender from eternal flames, and lead you to everlasting glory ? Did he command you, his servant, thus purchased with his blood, to cast away your sins, no less destructive to you than reproachful to him, and to honour the remembrance of his death with a grateful attendance on his table ? Did he appoint this as the grand testimony of your love and thankfulness for an act of mercy, amazing even to the host of heaven, who knew him to be the infinitely compassionate God ? And will you (I speak to your heart and conscience, ' if they have ears to hear, let them now hear ;' if they have sense to feel> let them now or never feel) will you basely turn your back on his feast of love? Will you not rather fly to ' kiss the son, lest he be angry ?' Will you cling to your sins, those only causes of all your fears and miseries, and cut yourself off from Christ, your tender friend, your compassionate redeemer, your only, your all powerful intercessor ? Can you repay such unex ampled goodness with so infamous coldness ? What a soul have you, if you can but so much as think of rewarding all his sufferings, and your great deliverance, with ingratitude, in this instance, above all others, ' exceeding the sin of witchcraft ?' Do you not love that father, who, when you could not help yourself, provided for you the necessanes and coraforts of life? Do you not love that raother, who washed you, wben an infant, frora the foulness incident to that age, often bathing you in her tears, laying you in her bosom, and feeding you with nourishment from her own breast? If you do, why infinitely rather love you not that Saviour, who, finding you drenched in a sink of pollution, washed you in his own blood ? Who, finding you destitute LVII.J NONE BUT THE CHILD OF GOD, &C. 133 of the most necessary sort of sustenance, and starving to death, to eternal death, for want of that sustenance, took you in his arras, erabraced you till he pulled you into his own body, and there suckled you at his veins and arteries with the life-blood issuing from his heart? If, while you are thus addressed, you are preparing to quit the house, and forsake the table, of your Redeemer, go, since you are able ; go, return to those sinful pursuits, whatsoever they are, which are dearer to you, it seems, than the son of God, after all you have suffered by them, and he hath suffered for you. But know this, that you leave the love of Almighty God, ungrateful as you are, and the necessary raeans of your own salvation, foolish as you are, behind you. Go, and leave us, who, I trust in God, are not cursed with hearts so very stony, to raeet the larab of our salvation with love resem bling his own ; to feast on the miracles of his mercy, and to put forth all the ardour of our hearts in a grateful act of de votion, inspired by our comforter, recommended by our Redeemer, and returned into our souls by onr heavenly Father in grace, mercy, and peace, without end. And now, O Lord, the gracious feeder of souls, tear from us, we beseech thee, the foul rags of our sins, clothe us in the ¦white garraents of a new life, cause us to hunger and thirst for the food of that life, and therewith satiate the souls of us thy children and servants at thy blessed table. The grace of, &c. DISCOURSE LVII. NONE BUT THE CHILD OF GOD HEARS GOD. John viii. 47. He that is of God, heareth God^s words: ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God. Clearly to conceive, and thoroughly to understand, what it is, ' to be of God,' and what, ' to hear his words,' in the sense of our blessed Saviour, who said this to a crowd of 134 NONE BUT THE CHILD [dISC. hardened mibelievers, raust be a matter of tbe highest con sequence to every man who reads the holy Scriptures, or hears the gospel preached by God's ministers. The impor tant truth thus surprisingly expressed, is not less a truth, nor of less concernment, to mankind now, than it was, when uttered by the raouth of Christ. Men are still divided into those ' who are,' and those ' who are not, of God ;' and con sequently, into such as 'hear,' and such as ' do not hear,* God's words, although spoken with equal plainness to both. That the truth contained in these words, is, as I have intiraated, surprisingly expressed, will appear to any one who considers the words theraselves, for therein we are given to understand, that while sorae men are endued with a spirit of grace and piety at, or previous to, their hearing the gos pel, there are others, who being destitute of this spirit, do not hear it, although it is sounded in their ears. And that this truth is of the last consequence to all men will quickly appear, if we reflect but for a moraent on the faith and sal vation which follow on hearing the words of God in our Sa viour's sense, or on the infidelity and reprobation, that not hearing in this instance, is attended with. Our Saviour spoke on this occasion to men who did ac tually hear every word he uttered, nay, and well enough un derstood his meaning, or it had been wholly irapertinent in hira to speak to them, at least in such a manner. His mean ing therefore is, that although with their outward ears they heard distinctly the sound of bis words, and with their mere apprehensions took the import of what he said, yet some thing lay between this superfitial apprehension and their understandings, which prevented his words from striking on their internal sense of hearing, and raising that conviction in their minds, and that conversion of their wills and affec tions, which it was the end of his discourses to produce. That which hinders tbe gospel frora penetrating the ears of the soul, and accoraplishing this happy end, is, no doubt,- a stupidity of raind, as to spiritual things, brought on by a sensual or worldly attachraent of the affections, and what St Paul calls, ' an evil heart of unbelief.' Our Saviour find ing this attachraent and this evil heart in the generality of his hearers, observes of thera, ' that seeing, they see not, and hearing, they hear not, neither do they understand.' It is LVII.J OF GOD HEARS GOD. 135 for this reason, that he so often cries out, to men who were, we may be sure, by no raeans naturally deaf, ' he that hath ears to hear, let him hear,' and in my text so plainly distin guishes between a carnal and a spiritual sense of hearing in persons who sufficiently felt the keenness of his refiection, as appears by their resentments. Whether the distinction between those who do, and those who do not, hear the words of God, although preached equally to both, arises from mere natural disposition, or frora supernatural grace, by the forraer cherished, and by the lat ter stifled, in theraselves, which appears to be the case, it is however a notorious and incontestable fact, that such a dis tinction there really is, for. There is no one congregation, to which the sarae minis ter hath for a course of years, read the Scriptures, and preached according to his ability (no matter in this case whether greater or less) whereof, while one part hath con vinced, converted, and in various respects edified, the other, hath not remained all the time as unaffected and uninstructed, as they could have been, had he never once opened his mouth. Let any one take them, just as they sit, and examine them, - and he shall find what I have said to be as glaringly evident as the light that shines in at the windows of the church. And that this remarkable difference proceeds not raate rially from any difference in their natural capacities, will be every whit as evident, first, because the one sort shall know, and the other shall not know, the simplest and easiest arti cles of religion, which are equally level and intelligible to all capacities ; and secondly, because they who are found on trial, to be the raost shamefully ignorant of Christianity, shall in all other branches of knowledge discover a rauch greater quickness of apprehension, a rauch stronger meraory, and clearer judgment, than many araong the best answerers ; and why then are they so ignorant? Butbecause, although they had ears to hear, and understandings to learn, other things, they had none for God and religion. But to be more particular as to these two classes of men, observe those who can give a competent account of the Christian faith, and you shall perceive thera exceedingly at tentive, while in church, to the lessons and the serraon, and equally earnest in the time of prayer. According to the na- 136 NONE BUT TUE CHILD [dISC. ture of what they hear, you shall see thera sometimes roused and alarmed, sometiraes softened and melted, sometiraes transported with joy, at other times dejected, frightened, af flicted, but at all time considerably affected, provided that which is delivered, is in itself affecting. It will, in short, be sufficiently manifest, that these men have a quick sense of hearing, that lies nearer to the soul, than their outward ears. And you shall still be more clearly convinced of it, if you follow thera home to their houses, for there you shall find them either on their knees at their devotions, or intent on careful recollections of what they had heard, or closely studying the Scriptures, or engaged with other Christians of the like spirit in religious conversations, or training their families to the knowledge of God and his will, during the remainder of the sabbath. These are the men who are of God, and therefore hear his words, not barely with their outward ears, but with every nerve of their hearts, and every faculty of their souls. On the other hand, observe those in whose mouths no answers were to be found, but such as betrayed the most stupid ignorance, and you shall see thera behave theraselves in the house of God eitber as if they had absolutely nothing to do there, or as if what they were about were the most trifiing, irapertinent, and disagreeable employment of their whole lives. They whom you might have observed reraark ably skilful and active in their worldly affairs, or eager in the pursuit of their sensual pleasures, here, while the one thing necessary is transacting, are transforraed into ideots who know not what to do, or into unfeeling blocks and stones, on which no impressions can be made. One yawns at tbe mention of God's most tender mercies, while another is lulled to sleep by the sound of his most alarraing judg ments. Here you see an empty head bowing to some insig nificant acquaintance, that ought to roll in the dust before the majestyof Heaven for unnurabered offences besides tbis. And there you see an irapertinent raouth, with a silly whis per, unseasonably interrupting the slight attention of sorae neighbour, whose rarabbng thoughts had by chance been fixed for a raoment on the business of the place. Few of them kneel, raise their eyes or hands to heaven, or utter one syllable of the prayers ! Here and there one, moved as it LVII.J OF GOD HEARS GOD. 137 were mechanically, may be heard muttering a response, who, at the sarae instant that he says. Lord have raercy upon us, is settling something in his dress that did not need it, or reaching at a distance for a little snuff. His lips indeed are seemingly addressed to God ; but all his little paltry soul is with infinite insolence given to some whifling thought, or sorae despicable affection. Whether God is awfully adored, or the most interesting points of religion enforced, if the door is opened to let in the most unstriking person in the parish, the eyes ofthe whole tribe are instantly turned on him with as rauch seeming curiosity, as if he had two heads upon his shoulders. Are not these people now in an excel lent disposition to edification ? Their behaviour at horae, during the reraainder of God's day, is perfectly of a piece with that which they display in his house. One half of them pass it, just as their cattle do, in a stupid indulgence to the same appetites, to the sarae fondness for indolence and sleep. The other, not knowing what to do with a portion of time, wherein a religious custom not yet sufficiently conquered, forbids attention to worldly affairs, give theraselves up to such amusements, as would not be wholly innocent on any other day. To think of God, his word, or his works ; to give theraselves up to raeditation or prayer; to take that opportunity of examining their own consciences, or of in structing their children and servants ; are things they have no more notion of, no raore know how to do thera, or once conceive they ought to do them, than they would, if the fourth coraraandraent, or all the coraraandments, were re pealed, or even both testaments destroyed, over the face of the whole earth. If from a charitable presumption, that there is no mortal of coraraon sense, who raay not be roused by the aniraating or alarming raotives ofreligion, urged home on his understanding in all the beauties and terrors of the gospel, you play the celestial music of God's proraises, or the dreadful thunder of his threatnings, at their ears, they hear you just as they do the whistling of the wind, and feel you, just as a raountain of marble does the beating ofthe waves. See how untouched they sit at the raention of hea ven; and the recital ofall its boundless joys, and all its end less glories ! See with what a slight indifference, with what a perfect composure, they hear you, in the stongest terms 13S NONE BUT THE CHILD [dISC. you can choose, or even in God's own awful words, repre senting the horrors of that eternal damnation, of ' that worm which dieth not,' of those ' fires that are not quenched,' of that ' blackness of darkness,' which are reserved for all the lovers of religious darkness ! Whence now proceeds this impenetrable deafness, this unfeeling, tbis iraraoveable stupidity ? Our Saviour answers the question in ray text. ' They therefore hear not God's words, because they are not of God.' The passage between their ears and their hearts, and between those again and their understandings, are so totally filled up with the plea sures, the profits, and the cares of this world, that there is no roora for the word of God to enter. ' Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias' the prophet, quoted by our Saviour, by St. John, and by St. Paul, and applied to the very same kind of raen ; ' Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not under stand ; and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive : for the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed ; lest they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal thera.' Hence it is, that ainong the lower kind of people such numbers are found, who in the midst of all that unclouded light which shines about thera, still ' sit in darkness,' in an almost total ignorance of Christ and his holy religion. And hence also, among the higher ranks of men, the generality have given only their ears, and many of them not even those to Christianity ; have given little or no attention to the proofs of its divinity ; and yet with a freedora, equally stupid and irapudent, coraraence infidels, disbelieving through mere distaste or contempt, and ridiculing what they will not be at the trouble to understand. It is as much in vain to hope for the warmth ofreligion in the one sort of people, as it is to expect the knowledge of it in the other. Christianity, nevertheless, is neither above the capacity of the labouring man, nor below that of the witling. Such is its simplicity, that it may be easily understood by the former ; and such its beauty and dignity, that the latter, if he does not highly taste and ardently love it, can by no other instance of insen sibility so clearly prove himself a brute or a blockhead. ' It IVII.J OF GOD HEARS GOD. 139 is wisdom crieth without, she uttereth her voice in the streets. She crieth in the chief place of concourse, how long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity ? and the scorners delight in scorning, and fools hate knowledge ?' But they answer, 'depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways ;' and she gives thera over with this prophetic dismiss, ' therefore shall ye eat of the fruit of your own way, and be filled with your own devices ?' Having thus opened the doctrine of ray text, and proved its truth by two known experiraents, one wrought on the ear of hira who is of God, and therefore does hear the words of God ; and the other, on that of hira who is not of God, and therefore does not hear his words ; it raay now be of sorae use briefiy to exaraine, and as it were dissect, that in ternal sense of hearing, wherewith only the words of God can be heard ; and then raore at large to shew, what those obstructions are that clog this sense in some men, and make thera deaf to the voice of God. The outward ear, we know, is but an organ or instru ment, whereby sounds are rendered perceptible to the mind, which, not being seated in the ear itself, but coraraunicating with it by another organ, through that ordinarily perceives all the sounds that strike with considerable force on the ear ; but nevertheless, on sorae occasions, although all the organs of hearing are in perfect good order, and the sounds are strongly irapressed, is as insensible of that irapression, as if it had never been raade. This, which daily experience makes known to every man, never happens, but when the attention of the raind is closely and earnestly pre-engaged to some other object, or in sorae other very interesting chain of thoughts, or is asleep. It is farther to be observed, that even when the words of those who speak to us are distinctly heard, and are in themselves most intelligible to us, we however only so far perceive their raeaning, as other objects, or other tracks of thinking, leave us at leisure to attend. Hence it is, that we often but half conceive what we hear perfectly w€l], and might as perfectly understand, did we give our minds wholly to what is heard. The passage to the mind is often shut against the word of God, outwardly, as in the first instance, so as that the 140 NONE BUT THE CHILD [dISC. very sound of it is not heard ; and raore inwardly, as in the second, so as to be but half perceived and understood. But raore inward still, and nearer to the soul, it raeets with another and greater obstruction in those that are not of God ; for even, after the meaning of it hath been so far attended to as to be sufficiently understood, the farther at tention requisite to its being believed and cordially em braced, is instantly carried off to other things, more pleasing to their corrupt affections ; or, what is worse, their invete rate prejudices, or beloved vices, so harden the heart, and arra the will against it, that the understanding, which in such raen is always enslaved to the heart and will, is not only not at liberty to examine the force of what it proposes, but is corapelled to look out immediately for pretences to evade it, and arguraents to refute it. The alarm given by the word of God to a corrupt nature, is intolerable. ' He that believeth not, shall be daraned. Repent, or ye shall all perish.' Against a declaration of war in terms so ter rible, every vice, every corruption, every habit, every affec tion and passion, of a dissolute heart, rise at once in arms. As such an heart bath no refuge, but either in insensibility, or opposite opinion, it first tries whether absence of raind may not render it sufficiently insensible, and in order to this, calls in all its wonted pleasures, arauseraents, schemes, to carry off its attention frora so dreadful an invader. But if this expedient proves unsuccessful, and tbe alarra hath already seized the spirits, then the understanding, blinded and chained, like Samson, is called in to drudge or make sport for its tyrants, whora, together with itself, it over- whelras at last in one coramon ruin. But in the raean time all goes smoothly : reason, ever infallible, when she seconds our wishes, soon finds out, that faith is not in our power, that the want of it therefore cannot be punishable; that God hath given us our passions and desires, and will not destroy us, at least, will not raake us miserable to all eter nity, for gratifying those desires with the objects he himself bath provided for thera in the works of creation ; and that therefore that religion cannot be founded on truth and the nature of things, which bids us abstain, when nature prorapts us to enjoy. These are the reasonings, spun out of appetite and pas- LVII.J OF GOD HEARS GOD. 141 sion, which shut the internal ear against the woids of God in all those men who are not of God. And in such raen these reasonings will hold good and sound, till poverty, in faray, sickness, pain, death, or daranation, the natural or vindictive consequences of their vices, teach them to feel conviction, who would not hear it. But till then, say the parson what he will, reason, that is, their own reason, will always be on the side of the liber tines, and teach thera this corafortable opinion, that if there is a God, it is his will they should be wicked. Now, it is not only the thorough-paced infidel that is furnished with this arraour of proof against religion. No, that whole tribe of men, who dodge between faith and infi delity, between virtue and vice, and hope to compound, under the sanctified narae of Chrisjtians, with Almighty God, for a decent life of sin ; though they are not so completely accoutered, have however as rauch of this armour as is necessary to their plan of living. If they want the head piece, they have the breast-plate, and that suffices, for their heads are naturally not very penetrable. In this they transact all their business, pursue all their pleasures, and go to church on Sundays ; and here they most want it, for-who knows what may be heard from the lessons or the sermon, that might otherwise carry com punction or terror to their hearts ? But they are safe. The lessons are old, trite, and often heard before. And as to the sermon, every thing alarming or damnatory in that, is either overstrained by the two much heated imagination of the preacher, or, at least, it is not in all points applicable to them, and therefore in no point or measure to be regarded. If the serraon is short, what signifies it, say they ; the ad vocate is retained, and must harangue a little for his fee. If it is long, why then it is tedious and impertinent, and may be parried by a nap, or a little chat to hira who sits next. If it consists of human reasonings and raoral sen tences, it is pretty enough, but they could have said as rauch themselves. If it is much larded with Scripture, especially if it any where attempts ' persuasion by the ter rors of the Lord,' these hearers contemn it for the antiquity both of its matter and dress, and take it extremely ill that 142 NONE BUT THE CHILD [dISC. the preacher should endeavour to frighten people who know better things, than to stand in awe, at this time of day, of hell and danination. In short, the preacher, raanage as he will, is but a weak creature at the best, and therefore what he says ought to pass for little. Pride is the greatest infidel ofall our passions. ' What ! to pin one's faith on authorities ! To be guided by th'e reports of others, rather than one's own judgraent! To submit to raortifications ! To deny one's self! To renounce the poraps of the world ! To be hurable, meek, and patient ! To follow a crucified master ! But, above all, to be tutored, and even, in some raeasure, governed, by a despicable par son, our inferior in birth, breeding, and fortune, whora we raust not only raaintain, but reverence, truly ! and (raorti fying thought) to the raiserable produce of whose wrong head and barren understanding we raust gravely listen at least for half an hour every week ! This is not to be en dured. Yet were the detested usurpation on our liberty to stop here, we might perhaps corapound. But all these en croachraents are no sooner subraitted to, and we begin to hope for those corafortable indulgences to our schemes and pleasures, which are wisely granted by some undertakers bf the conscience, than behold ! our mistresses are to be ba nished, our gaming tables overturned, the very glasses struck out of our hands, as we were raising them to our mouths, and almost all our schemes of profit, pleasure, or ambition, forbidden, under pain of damnation ! Our whole nature gives the lie to a religion that teaches this; and therefore it is, must be, and shall be, a false religion. The gownmen raay propose to reason with us on the evidences of their religion, on their records, their prophecies, their miracles, too extraordinary to be believed, even though they were seen ; but is there not somewhat within us, suffi cient to baffle all this cant? Can that be wisdom which would persuade us to act against our own nature? Or can that be truth which tells us, we are blind, and want a guide? which bids us think raeanly of ourselves?' The infidels, I know, avow other principles raore spe cious, and would be thought to proceed on reasonings, not so immediately drawn from their own depraved hearts ; but LVII.J OF GOD HEARS GOD. 143 those they set outward only to save appearances, I have here laid open the true springs of infidelity, uninfluenced by which, no man ever turned apostate to Christianity. This religion, and this alone, approves itself to right reason, by the purity ofits morals, the simplicity and depth of its instructions, and the power of its institutions and sanctions, as the most excellent rule of life. It approves itself also as the work of God, and as a true history of facts, by such evidence as was never given, never possibly could have been given, to any other account of past transactions. That it does both, appears incontestably from the trials it hath undergone and surmounted. All that artifice, perse cution, sophistry, and ridicule could do, to expose or sup press it, hath been done, and it hath triumphed over all. No other religion was so maliciously or critically examined, so artfully underrained, or so bitterly attacked, either in its principles or professors ! and, behold ! it not only stands its ground, but shines out, as it were, with an additional lustre. Had its opposers proceeded on reason only, or could reason have been at all eraployed against it, there ha!d been DO need of artifice or cruelty to help out the opposition. What then hath given rise to this opposition, and so long kept it up ? It^'^was, no doubt, ' an evil heart of unbelief, which in men, who 'are not of God,' always proves too hard for tbeir understandings, and for all the evidences of re ligion, as well natural, as revealed. The corrupt, the refractory, the suspicious heart, resists the light of reason no less, than that of revelation, and judging of all other things, and all other men by itself, is a stranger to faith and trust. They, ' who of old,' as St. Paul observes, ' where hardened through the deceitfulness of sins,' were ' the un believers. And to whom sware God, that they should not enter into his rest, but to them who believed not?' ' The controversy about Christianity is, in effect, nothing else but a controversy between a sound understanding and a corrupt heart, between virtue and vice, which in those ' who are not of God,' ends always in favour of the latter. There is in reality but one objection against the religion of Christ, and it is the heart only that makes it; but it is exactly of the same nature with that which an abandoned and ungovernable son makes to the advice of his wise and worthy feither. The 144 NONE BUT LHE CHILD [dISC. scape-grace however will by no means confess that he dis obeys through love of vice. No, he endeavours to assign plausible motives, and to justify his conduct with reasons, and, if he reasons right, he justifies rebellion and wickedness, and proves his parent a tyrant or a dotard. Just so ' the na tural man receiveth not the things which be of God, for they are foolishness to him,' but labours to shew either that they are needless, for he knew thera before, or that they are absurd in theraselves, and unreasonable in regard to hira, and there fore could not have had God, for their author. If God speaks to hira, he answers with ' Coniah, I will not hear; and this hath been his inanner frora his youth,' to disobey the voice of God, long before he did it on principle, or found out his strong reasons for infidelity and wickedness. Such men, saith God by Jeremiah, ' walk every one after the iraagi nation of his evil heart, that they may not hearken to me.' Now, this aleniation of the heart from God is not his work. He never rejects, till he is rejected. No, he cries in the raost affectionate and raoving voice to a raan of this sort, ' I am the Lord thy God whicii teacheth thee to profit, which leadeth thee by the way which thou shouldst go. 0 that thou hadst barkened to my commandraents, then had thy peace been as a river, and thy righteousness' as the waves of the sea.' But when those he cries to in this tender manner, will not hearken to his voice, will treat with scorn, expostula tions issuing from the bowels of infinite compassion, then 'he gives them up unto their own hearts lusts, aud suffers them to walk in their own counsels.' Then he sets them at a still greater distance frora hira. Then he is said to have 'blinded their eyes, and hardened their hearts,' and so raade it im possible for thera to hear his voice or to return'. Because they have ' given themselves over to all deceiveableness of unrighteousness, because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved ; for this cause God hath sent thera strong delusion, that they should believe a lie ; that they all raight be damned, who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.' The fate of these despisers of faith, who, through the pleasure they take in unrighteous ness, reject the truths of God, is remarkably suitable, and mortifying. Being abandoned by the fountain of light and truth, they are forced to take up with, what of all things they LVII.J OF GOlD HEARS GOD 145 pretend to the greatest contempt of, either the imposture of ' false rairacles, or the delusion of false reasonings. It is but one and the same mind that shuts itself against truth, and opens itself to error. As no truths are so striking, as those of religion and virtue ; no errors so palpable, as those of infidelity and wickedness ; so, of all sorts of minds, that proves itself the most grossly stupid, which greedily sucks in the one, while it carefully arras itself against the other. Is there any thing, to which a sensible mind should lie so open, as to God who made it, and hath done so much to make it happy ? Or is there any thing against which it should be so closely locked up, as those worldly scheraes and sinful pleasures, frora whence have evidently proceeded all its errors, all its giiilt, all its disappointments, fears, distractions, miseries? If tbe prophet asks, 'he thatmade the ear, shall he not hear?' may he not as reasonably ask, he that made the ear, shall he not be heard? shall that be heard, which is qualified only to amuse, to deceive, and to destroy ? And shall he not be heard, who alone can neither deceive, nor be deceived ? who loves us raore than we do ourselves ? who moved by his unutterable and inconceivable love, breaks through the otherwise unalterable course of nature, and tramples on the works of his own creation, that we may see it is he himself, while he files to save us from sin and misery? He bids the winds be still, he smooths the billows with aword, he speaks the sick into health, and the dead into life ; and thus he proves, that it is he who bids us believe and repent. But all this is not sufficient to still the winds of wild opinion, to smooth the waves of outrageous passion, or to cure the distempers and revive the piety, of that mind which ' is not of God.' The fountain of truth and goodness saith, be pure, be humble, be meek, be honest ; but the fountain of all cor ruption, saith, enjoy thy pleasures, esteera thyself, retort injuries, and use thy art to execute thy scheraes. The man who is not of God, hears both with his ears, but the latter only, with his heart. ' Believe in rae,' saith God, ' and lean not to thy own understanding.' Trust to me, saith avarice, saith ambition, saith pleasure ; and judge for thyself, say they all ; and all are obeyed by the man Vi'ho is of this world, and not of God ; who thinks, judges, and believes only through VOL. HI. L 146 WHO IS FOR GOD, [dISC. his outward senses, and fleshly desires, which are his only self. Thus in a corrupt heart ends the great controversy between God and his adversaries ; and if time does not do it, etemity at least will shew, which had the right side ofthe question. May there no longer be a dispute on the subject in any of us ; may God give us grace wisely to hear, and dutifully to obey him in all things, through Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whora with the Father, and the Holy Ghost, be all raight, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. DISCOURSE LVIII. WHO IS FOR GOD, AND WHO AGAINST HIM. St. Mat. xii. 30. He tJuit is not with me, is against me. In some contests, they who are not imraediately concerned, are at liberty, or rather it is their duty, to take neither part, because the thing contended for, is indifferent in itself, or because both sides are in the wrong. There are others, wherein every man is obliged to favour at least, if not to join himself to, one of the parties engaged, because one of them is evidently in the right, and no raan ought to be wholly disinterested, when the cause of truth, justice, or virtue, is debated. In the cause of religious truth every man is a party, if it is a fact, as no doubt it is, that the happiness of every man is inseparably connected, not only with his thinking rightly in religious matters, but, in some measure also, with his endeavouring to make others do the same. Happiness is the effect of virtue ; and virtue, of true religion. The chief among these, or rather that wherein all the rest are comprised, is the great contest between Christ, the fQuntain of true religion, of pure virtue, and of our real LVIII.J AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 147 happiness, on the one side ; and the author of spiritual darkness, wickedness, and misery, on the other. Here all men, whether sensible ofit or not, are infinitely interested; and it is owing either to their ignorance or stupidity, if fhey are not proportionably concerned. It is ofthe highest raoment to us, that the rules whereby our Saviour will distinguish his friends from his eneraies be known, and well considered. Now, that he makes, and ever will make, this important distinction, not by the pro fessions, but by the'principles and deeds, of men, will be' evident from the application of a Jewish proverb in the 9th of St. Luke, and here in my text. In the former of these places, John saith to him, ' Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, and we forbad him, because he followeth not with us. Bnt Jesus said unto him, forbid him not, for he that is not against us, is for us.' Here Christ lakes thatman to be on his part, who, acting in his narae, and, questionless by his spirit, made war on the enemies of God, that is, did the work of God, though without the formal pro fession, or personal attendance, of a disciple. The judgment he passes on hira, who stands as it were neuter, in the war between God and the author of evil, is very different, though made by the sarae proverb, but con verted, as was the manner of the Jews in some of their com mon sayingSi to a seeraingly opposite purpose. To such he will not allow'the benefit of a neutrality. He knows of no man, who is neither tobe rewarded as a friend, nor punished as an enemy; but saith, ' he that isnot with me is against me.' It is true, he thus applies the proverb, in answer to the Pharisees, who had charged him with casting out devils by Beelzebub, the prince of the devils, and proves from thencie, and from the tendency of the fact itself, that he is the enemy of devils. But while, with great force, he urges the argument against his pharasaical adversaries, he pushes it forwards through them, into the cooler hearts of such as stand be hind, and prudentially shew theraselves, neither for him, nor against hira. He affirms, that every one, who does not labour to gather sheep into his fold, as he does, scatters, as the wolf does, many from that fold; who would enter, were L 2 148 WHO IS FOR GOD, [dISC. it not for their exaraples, who stay out. In all cases like this, he who helps not, hinders. A great part of mankind never move but with a crowd before them, and weigh the strength of a reason only by the nurabers it hath already convinced. The fears of raany, and the negligence of a yet greater body, I raean, raore especially, as to considerable changes, either in religious opinions or professions, are sel dom surmounted, but by the previous conversion of others more attentive, more sharp-sighted, and more resolute. If a professed indifference to Christ and his religion is capable of doing so great disservice to both, and if there fore Christ will regard those, who do not declare for him, as his eneraies, no less than those who declare against hira, in what light raust he look on such as bear his name, and make profession of his religion, while they either labour to per vert its principles, or, in the raain of their lives, too plainly prefer the service of his enemy ? These, undoubtedly, he must regard, not as neutrals, nor even as mere eneraies, but as detestable traitors. Considered in this light, they do infinitely raore daraage to the credit and progress of his religion, than can possibly be done by those who never gave in their names to him, nay, or by those who openly vilify and oppose him. It is true, Christ, properly speaking, cannot be betrayed, for he hath no secrets, to be concealed ; and therefore, in this respect, may safely set every Judas at defiance. But if any man, outwardly bearing the badge of Christianity, shall corrupt or enfeeble its fundaraental articles in the minds of others, or shall deny its author in his actions; as often as he is terapted by worldly interests, or fleshly plea sure, or everi shall shew hiraself indifferent, as often as the offers of the eneray seera, in his scales, to balance the pro mises of Christ ; this man is a traitor, and wounds the Saviour of souls more sensibly by his professions, than Ju das ever did in the raidst of his kisses ; I say, by his pro fessions, for did he deny himself to be a Christian, the open eneraies of Christ could not, as they always do, throw the odiura of his practices on the religion he declares for; neither could other weak professors of Christianity so mi serably stumble at his example, saying, as is too frequently their unhappy custom, ' see how such a one acts, how he LVIII.J AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 149 lies, cheats, gets drunk, converses with scandalous women, and does a thousand other things forbidden by Christianity. Do you observe, how he undermines the doctrine, into which he was baptized, and that whereby the sins of raan kind are believed to be atoned? Yet the man is much liked, passes for a very tolerable Christian, and hopes for heaven at the last. Why may not we act, and hope as he does ?' There are but few men in the world, who fall not, raore or less, into this snare, that is, are not, more or less, infidels or reprobates, purely because others, profess ing the same religion, and even that but nominally, have shewn thera how to reconcile a practice and a profession, as opposite as light and darkness. So far common sense ex tends its conclusions frora the doctrine of my text. . Let us however examine the point a little by other places of Scripture, that we may the more perfectly understand what it is 'to be for Christ,' and what, ' to be against him.' If a man may be truly said to be with Christ, who only follows him, carries his narae, and declares for hira, then Judas was really a good Christian, and Christ himself knew not what a Christian is, for he says, 'Woe unto that man by whom the son of man is betrayed.' Should such a one say unto him, ' Lord, Lord, have I not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name cast out devils, and done many wonderful works?' all this will not prove him to be for Christ, who will nevertheless • profess unto him, I never knew you, depart from me, you that work iniquity.' Judas could say as much for himself, as you, and yet I have pro nounced him ' the son of perdition.' Here is profession for profession, than which nothing better can be reasonably hoped for. Not only they are ' against Christ, who deny him before raen in words,' but they also ' who profess that they know, but in works deny him. being aborainable and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate ;' of whom St. Paul tells us, ' even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction ; whose God is their belly ; whose glory is their shame ; and who mind earthly things.' These are ' against Christ.' Who then are ' for him ?' They, no doubt, of whom he saith to the Father, ' I have given unto them the words which thou gavest rae; and they have received them, and have 150 WHO IS FOB GOD, £dISC. known hereby, that I came out from thee ; and they have believed, that thou didst send me. Thine they were, and thou gavest them me, and they have kept my word. They that are Christ's,' says St. Paul, ' have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts.' But are there not a third, or middle sort of men, who, in the strictness of these expressions, are neither with our Sa viour, nor against hira ? No, Christ, who best knows his own, absolutely denies the fact, in my text. It is true, of good men, sorae are better ; and of bad men, some worse, than others. The good are not all equally the friends ; nor the wicked, all equally the eneraies, of Christ ; and for these inequalities different degrees of reward and punishment are reserved in the determinations of our judge. It is also true, that the best of men sometiraes fall into sin, and the worst, soraetimes rise to acts of piety and goodness. But then he who is to pass sentence on us, knows perfectly well, where frailty ends, and presumption and perverseness begin; knows, who, in the raain of his life, is a good, and who, a bad raan, that is, who is on his part, and who, against him. A rational and free being, who knows there is a God, cannot stand suspended between virtue, which he is sensible is the will of God ; and vice, which, he is sure, is his abhor rence. But farther, if he knows, that God hath not only given him being, but heaped on him all the blessings he en joys here, or hopes for hereafter, and purchased him with his own blood from the dreadful punishment duetohis sins, under such obligations to such a governor, and such a be nefactor, he raust surely be very wicked, if he is not in some degree virtuous. To do no good, under these circumstances, must be high ingratitude ; to do evil, raust be unnatural re bellion. Whosoever renounces this double obligation to obedience and gratitude, laid on him by fche Saviour of man kind, is an infidel and an enemy ; and whosoever pretends to receive it, but denies its power by acting, in the main, as if he regarded neither the duties nor motives it suggests to him, is a traitor to that Saviour. Thus it appears, that frora the throne of God, down to the nethermost hell, there is not, there cannot possibly be, one moral being, who is not either the friend, or enemy, of Christ. In the one or other of these lights, he raust regard LVIII.J " AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 151 every man, and every man must regard himself, at the final judgraent. On that great occasion, the judge will pro nounce but two sentences, to the good, ' come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdora prepared for you from the foundation of the world ;' and to [the wicked, ' depart from rae, ye accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.' At that day, there will be no man found, who will not tremble under the one, or triuraph in the other, of these sentences ; none who will not be a fit object of either. Here is no raiddle judgment between, come, and depart, nor a middle region, between heaven and hell, for tbe reception of him, who is neither called as a friend, nor rejected as an enemy to, Christ. Well, but granting the truth, what is the use, some will ask, ofthis doctrine ? Hath it any tendency to increase the number of Christ's friends, or to diminish that of his ene- nemies ? After hearing all this, will not every one be just where he was ? Not every one, it is hoped. Our infinitely wise instructor undoubtedly had the edification of his hearers in view, when he spoke my text, and did not utter it merely as idlse words. It will, I trUst, be a great comfort and con firmation to every good man, to perceive by an infallible rule, that Chrisf regards him as his friend. What can so effectually encourage him to a steady perseverance, as thus beforehand to enjoy the happy judgment of the last day? It will be also as great a terror to every bad man, to know by the same infallible rule, that he himself is the enemy of Christ. What is so likely to work him to repentance, as tbe bitter foretaste of his future condemnation? All this, however, you will say, we knew before ; and I can as easily answer, perhaps it was not duly laid to heart. What I have been saying was music to the conscious friend of Christ, music to be heard with pleasure on ten thousand repetitions- It cannot therefore be he, who peevishly says, ' all this we knew befote.' No, it mUst be yoU, who did not know, or knew it only in the spirit of slumber, that you are the ungrateful, and hereafter, if you do not awake in time, must be the miserable, enemy of that Saviour, who laid down his life for your soul. Ybu have, ttU along professed Christianity, but contented 152 WHO IS FOB GOD, [dISC. yourself with such a kind or degree of it, as the vain and senseless practice of the world vouches for sufficient ; that is, you come sometimes to church, give a small matter to the poor, and now and then, comraunicate. You take care to keep within the verge of the laws, to preserve a tolerable character; and so to pass in your own, and the judgment of others like yourself, for a moderate Christian. But, in the mean time, you scruple not to take God's name in vain, to talk or act obscenely, to get drunk sometimes, and to dash your dealings in the world with too large a mixture of cunning, extortion, or oppression. If you have observed this, or soraewhat like it, to be the general practice, the un happy exaraple serves you for a law, to which all the laws of God must give way in you, who set not up truly for a saint, but sneer at those who are raore scrupulous, as hypocritical pretenders to that character. All this while, it is with you a matter of but little raoraent, whether you are ' with Christ,' or ' against him,' as is evident by your never, in any material instance, preferring his service or honour to the ordinary calls of worldly interest or pleasure. Ifyou are on Christ's part, what passion have you, sub dued, what appetite denied, what view of temporal profit or honour, though ever so inconsiderable, have you set aside, purely to please hira ? Or rather, what sense of his good ness, or your past ingratitude, do you even now feel, to prove to you,' that you are not wholly indifferent about him, his religion, or your place araong his followers ? On his own maxim, the cold, and almost contemptuous services you render him for the loss of his life and blood (loss, surely I may call it, in respect to you) could not entitle you to the name of his friend, were you as cold to this world, and the things of it. How far then must they be from giving you any claim to that honourable appellation, when all your warrath is bestowed on that which he abhors, which he com manded you to abhor, and you, in your covenant with God through him, renounced by a soleran vow ? ' You honour him,' it is true, and but a little. ' with your lips ; but your heart is far from him.' Full well he knows it, for he is a searcher of hearts, and clearly sees where all the ardour of yours is placed, while he hath only the worthless compli- LVIII.J AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 153 ment of your professions. This you may be experiraentally convinced of by an irapartial consideration of your prayers, your, faith, and the general cast of your whole life. Your prayers are but seldora offered up to the absolute disposer of all things, and offered with such an unaccount able coldness of heart, as testifies no affection, scarcely, in deed, a bare dependence. Your faith, for want of a thorough conviction, or of that close and keen attention, which the great things it sets be fore you demand, araounts to little more than a mere opi nion as to either the past or future facts suggested in your creed. Such an opinion is too weak to have any material effect on your practice, too feeble, by far to bring futurity even into competition with the present objects of sense and appetite. You see these in more than their own size and colouring ; you taste them with more relish than they are naturally qualified to yield ; you feel them with all the sen sibility of your soul, as fraught with pleasure only, and with more of it than it is possible such things can afford to any but a very sensual mind. But in so great a degree of dim ness and confusion does the eye of your faith present you with a view of things to come, that heaven hardly looks like happiness, or hell like raisery, or either, like a reality. Nay, faith in you is enslaved to your senses ; believes what they promise, though alraost always against reason ; hopes for happiness against all experience, in the pursuit of tera porary, uncertain, unsatisfactory, and, therefore, insignifi cant things ; and follows the views of fieshly appetite in a world, which whosoever trusts to, will find to be ' vanity and vexation of spirit,' at the last. How unlike is your faith to that of a real Christian ! His faith draws his very senses into its service. He believes, and therefore hears God speaking in his word ; feels God raoving in his heart; sees the judgraent seat of Christ, with the glories of heaven and the horrors of hell, alraost as clearly asif they were displayed just before his eyes. Nay, he suffers the anguish of his Saviour's wounds with not rauch less pain than if the nails and spear had pierded his own flesh ; and triumphs over sin and death in the resur rection of Christ, with an high degree of that joy, he knows he is to feel, when he shall arise from the grave hiraself. 154 WHO IS FOR GOD, ' [dISC. As to the general cast and tenor of your life, this will make the melancholy truth, wherewith I am endeavouring to rouse you, still more indisputable. An insensible stupi dity damps and flattens all you think or do in relation to religion. Here you know nothing. Here you feel nothing. But in regard to this world, you are all alive. How deeply read is your understanding here ! How warmly engaged is your heart ! I appeal to your own breast for the truth of these observations, and of this, as the summary of them all, that you are, at best, but a middling Christian, and yet, at the sarae tirae, probably a good farmer, mechanic, merchant, or manager of your teraporal affairs. Now, I know, you are ready to declare, with an affected humility, ' that it is the height of your ambition in reli gious matters, to be an ordinary or middling Christian. Let others, you say, set up for singularity and saintship ; for your part, you wish to be foUnd even among the lowest class of Christians, and aspire only to a bare acquittal.' And yet you want not your share of ambition and pride too. Misguided man ! How miserably you mistake that for hu mility, which is but lukewarmness and indifference. But where, pray, is the huraility of vilifying those religious warraths in others which you never had either the sense or goodness to feel in yourself? Know, unhappy self-deceiver, that there is, there can be, no such mortal as a middling Christian. Neither the nature of our religion, as set forth in ray text, and throughout the Scriptures, nor the incon ceivable tenderness of Christ in suffering for us ; neither the exalted joys proraised, nor the shocking torraents threatened, will suffer a thinking mind to be indifferent. If you do not feel the force of what I am saying in the depths of your soul, what an insensible soul must that be ! That you may perceive, I say not these things of myself, but by authority; hear them from hira who ' loveth you, and hath laid down his life for you,' and nevertheless thus accosts you on the subject of your indifference to him, and attach ment to the world ; ' You cannot serve two masters, you cannot serve God and raararaon. He that loveth father and mother more than me, is not worthy of me ; he that loveth son or daughter more than rae, is not worthy of rae ; and he that taketh not his cross and followeth after me is not LVIII.J. AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 155 worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he thatloseth his life for my sake, shall find it.' Consider now, have you ever given up any of these things, or even much smaller things, such as houses or lands, for the sake of Christ or his gospel ? or do you think yourself capable of doing it ? You who daily sacrifice all the little regard you have for Christ to every moment of pleasure, or mite of gain? If your eyes are now open, look about you, and tell us where you are ; surely not with Christ, but against him, not even with a company of indifferents and neutrals, but of re probates and devils, the sink and scum of the creation, who in their lusts, and even -pride of their hearts, have wisely preferred rebellion to gratitude, infamy to glory, and hell to .heaven. Do you not observe, how one of your company betrays the son of God, how another condemns him, how another spits in his face, how another buffets, how another scourges, how another crucifies him ? Dare not to call Judas a traitor, till you consider whether you have not more than once sold the Saviour of mankind for some pieces of silver. Dare not to censure Pilate as an unjust judge, before you have recollected, whether you never by your words ac quitted, but in your deed condemned, the Redeemer, as he did, to please the world, and |;o promote or secure your in terest with its great ones. Beware of charging the unbe lieving soldiers who executed the sentence on Christ, with cruelty, till you seriously refiect, whether you, his professed disciple, have not often spit in his face, buffeted hira, scourged him, crucified him, by your sins, as well as they. But here you will say, ' what can Christ expect from so poor a creature as me, dependent, while in this world, on the necessaries of life, and charged by Providence with a family, which it is my duty to take care of? Besides, hath not God given me my appetites and passions, and fitted the good things here below to these internal springs of desire and action whiph he himself hath impressed on my nature ? Must I not act as an inhabitant of this world, while I ara here ? And will it not be time enough to act as an inhabi tant of the next world, when I find myself there ?' Are not you yourself a little startled at a plea, the same in substance with that of the declared infidel, and as agree- 156 WHO IS FOR GOD, [DISC. able to his other principles, as it is wholly repugnant to yours? Your principles tell you, that, 'having food and rairaent, you are therewith to be content.' Pray, is this all you seek for ? It is true, the same principles teach, that, ' if you provide not for your own, and especially for them of your own house, you have denied the faith, and are worse than an infidel.' But what are you obliged hereby to pro vide? Not surely unnecessary sums of money, ' the love of which is the root of all evil ;' not great estates, not sounding titles, not sumptuous palaces, not luxurious ta bles ; no, but ' food and rairaent only.' Every thing of this sort, you are, if occasion requires, to sacrifice to Christ, and not Chnst to thera, as is your "general practice. If God hath given you your natural appetites and desires, he did not give you either the excess of those appetites, or your present habit of indulging thera to the utterraost. If he stored the world with materials for your gratification, it was not, be sure, that you should ' lade yourself with thick clay,' ill-gotten by fraud and oppression, and worse spent in pride and riot ; but to try whether you could be ' tem perate in all things,' and ' use this world as not abusing it ;' and whether you could, in the midst of these things below, look up, ' and fix your affection on things above.' If you are a Christian, your principles tell you that ' while you are in this world, you are not to live like a man of this world;' but if you are ' born of God, to overcome the world,' and to ' keep yourself unspotted frora it, denying all ungodliness and worldly lusts.' Thus, to the uttermost of your power, are you to act, while here, or you will never ' keep the coraraandraents of God, nor enter into life,' nor have any opportunity of shew ing, how readily you could conforra to, or what a fine figure you could make in a better world, were you trans lated thither. This, you see, Christ actually expects of you, because he knows it is, or puts it within your power. Your pleading poverty, therefore, or inability, is only done to cover your disinclination, ingratitude, and treachery. Besides, this part of your plea, I must tell you, sounds most scandalously from your mouth, who are apt to talk so high of your honour, of your understanding, and of your resolution, on LVIII.J AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 157 some occasions, as if you had surmounted the infirmities of human nature, and needed neither man to teach you, nor even God to help you. If you now perceive that you are not with Christ, but against him; if you see it with that shame, alarra, and terror, which ought naturally to accorapany such a sight ; the work of this day is done, and you are infinitely happier now in your grief, than you were a few hours ago in the midst of darkness and security. But, ifyou are still insen sible, the charge of treachery and ingratitude, so clearly brought horae to your door, raust be resumed, and those crimes, as comraitted against the Saviour of the world, held to your eyes in their own enormous foulness, for how otherwise is it possible to rouse you ? Consider then seriously, if you can, as to the charge of treachery, that when you were baptized, you gave in your name to Christ ; you covenanted with God through hira your intercessor ; you vowed abhorrence to his enemies ; you vowed fidelity, love, and obedience to him, during the course of your life. On this, he entrusted you with his name and honour, together with a title to all the infinite blessings, arising from peace with God, a peace purchased with his last agonies and blood. Consider now, on the other side, that your whole life is little else than one con tinued breach of the covenant and vow you made ; one con tinued insult on his name and honour ; one continued exposure of both to the blasphemy of his eneraies. You renounced those original adversaries of Christ, the devil, the world, and the fiesh; what else have you, all along, loved, consorted with, or followed ? By this you spread a snare for the feet of the weak, and make your name of a Christian the bait. By this you give Christ a defeat, and the devil a triumph. If this is not treachery, then Judas himself was faithful. If this is not ' crucifying the Son of God afresh, and putting hini to open sharae,' then he was never crucified at Jerusalem, nor exposed to conterapt be tween two thieves. And if this is not a degree of treachery, sufficient to match the hottest place of punishment, for what other crime is that place reserved ? But you intend, you say, no such treachery to Christ, no such new crucifixion of your Saviour. How ? Do not 158 WHO' IS FOR GOD, [disc. you know Christianity is vilified, Christ himself blasphemed, and his spiritual body corrupted, wounded, mangled, through your unchristian course of life ? Or are your sins all un intended, undesigned, and purely accidental ? Do you mean absolutely nothing by following the flesh, and hunt ing after the world, with all the force of your understanding, and all the anxiety of your heart? Nothing, I verily be lieve, but your own gratification. But then most certainly nothing raore was raeant by the first betrayers and mur derers of Christ. Will you admit this plea of yours, when made by your servant? He, poor man, tells you, it is not to offend or injure you, but to please himself, that he per forras none ofyour commands, does every thing you dislike, and associates often with your enemies ; and you are as well assured of his sincerity, on this occasion, as of your own towards God, in the use of this apology. How dare you now expect better services from hira, than you render to, God, the great master of you both ? In the next place, whether your ingratitude is not of as deep a black as your treachery, you will never know, till you feelingly reflect on what Christ hath done for you, and as impartially on what you have done to him. He, the Son of God, hath died to save you, a poor, un worthy criminal, frora endless infaray and misery (O think how great that infamy and misery !) and to bring you to endless glory and happiness ; O consider, how high that glory ! How infinite that happiness ! How coolly yow hear it ! As coolly you return it by your forraal professions, your dry thanksgivings, your unwilling and insignificant services, through which scarcely any footsteps, of either your understanding or affection, are to be traced. Yet this negative is the least ugly side of your ingratitudei On the other, are found all your positive sins; your vile thoughts, your false, profane, or seducing discourse; your abominable actions ; all imagined, uttered, comnutted, di rectly against hira who died for you. Of this you are well aware, if you know any thing of the religion you ,profess> and therefore cannot claim the benefit of Christ's dying prayer, even for his raurderers, ' Father, foTgive them, for they know nofc what they do.' You perfectly well know, what you are doing by all your coldness of devotion, and LVIII.] AND WHO AGAINST HIM. 159 by all your warrath in sin. You know, that coldness is a renunciation of him, and that warmth, rebellion against him. You know, that, by both, you his professed raeraber, unnaturally nail hira to a new cross. Will you proceed to repeat this inhuman, this ungrateful, this atheistical mur der, almost every moraent of your life, and still continue to call Christ your Saviour? What cruelty, what mockery, is equal to this ? Know, most fatally-mistaken raan, that this is desperate, infinite folly too (for ' to him all power, all judgment, in heaven and earth, are coraraitted),' and that you are in a stateof real rebellion against tbe Sovereign of tlie world, and of war with the Alraighty. If your forces are sufficient to maintain this war, and your armour proof against his two-edged sword, go on ; but, for sharae, no longer say, you are a Christian. There is as much sense, and more consistency, in directly contending with God, than in pre tending to be his servant, and yet fighting against him. But in case you know your own weakness, and are afraid of contending with an adversary, ' to whora vengeance be longeth,' and who can, ' and will repay,' let rae, with the grief, the fear, the corapassion, of a fellow-creature, and a fellow-Christian, earnestly press you to repent, and make your submission, this very instant. Your case will not admit a moment's delay ; neither is there any medium between being ' for Christ, and against him.' Salvation is found only in being for him ; damnation only, in being against him. Awake, consider this, ere it is too late, and choose your party ; but consider it with your whole under standing, and choose with your whole heart, for remember you choose for all eternity. And may the all-wise God assist you, and us all, in this one thing needful, for the sake of Christ Jesus, our Redeemer, to whom with the Father of mercies, and the Comforter of souls, be all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now, and for evermore. Amen. 160 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [DISC. DISCOURSE LIX. FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. St. Luke xvi. 8. The children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light. St. James tells us, there are two kinds of 'wisdom, that which is from above, pure, peaceable, gentle, easy to be in- treated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiahty, and without hypocrisy;' and that ' which is from beneath, earthly, sensual, devilish.' They, who are enlightened by the former, which is nothing else, but the knowledge and spirit of the gospel, are in ray text called ' the children of light ;' and they who follow the latter, are there called ' the children of this world.' Perfect wisdom consists in a right choice both of ends and means, and in a steady pursuit of those ends by these means. The real child of light, or the true Christian, shews himself wise in all the three respects, but more especially in the choice ofhis grand end or aira, which is to please God. and to be happy for ever. In regard to his chief end or view, the child of this world shews himself to be a fool, for ' the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God,' who can best distinguish between the true and false wisdom ; but then the worldling, in the choice of his means, and still raore in the steadiness of his pursuit, leaves the good Christian so far behind, that, in these branches of wisdora, he is pronounced by our Saviour, at the close of the parable from whence my text is taken, to be * wiser than the- child of light.' It was however by no means the intention of our blessed Saviour to recommend the worldly wisdom to us, nor to propose the policy of tbe steward in the parable as a fit object ofour imitation, any farther than as he shewed him self wise in turning his present opportunities to his future advantage. This is plain from his being called an unjust or LIX.] FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. 161 iniquitous steward in the parable itself, and even by hira who applauds the craft of his contrivance. We know, that, in the judgraent of our blessed Saviour, all iniquity, howsoever deedly schemed, and artfully managed, is folly ; and such it will surely appear to be at that time, when he will say, ' depart from me all ye that work iniquity.' He only la ments and reproves it in mankind, that the very wisest and best among us rarely, perhaps never, shew as high a degree of thought and forecast for the eternal interest of their souls, a raatter of infinite consequence, as men of only equal talents shew in regard to their worldly interest, which, in comparison, is a thing of no moraent. And to raake this reflection, so very astonishing, and so very severe, and yet so glaringly true, the raore striking, he couches it in a proverbial paradox, and says, ' the children of this world,' or of ignorance and darkness, ' are in their generation,' their tribe or sort, ' wiser than the children of light,' or of true, real, and heavenly knowledge ; those, he affirras, see better at raidnight than these at noon- day; they, who are so stupid as to prefer a short life of vanity and vexation to an endless life of happiness and glory, do nevertheless, being raore closely interested in so absurd a choice, put their natural abilities more on the stretch, and consequently exercise raore thought and judgment, in order to the accom plishraent of their low and insignificant design, than the vrisest saint does for his soul, for heaven, and for God. This, in short, is what he upbraids us with, that the worldly man hath more of the worldly wisdom, than the spiritual man hath of the spiritual. The nian who schemes only for this life is so faf bedarkened, as to know neither the world nor himself, or he would not lay out hiraself upon it ; and yet he conducts hiraself, in order to it, with great address and judgraent. Whereas he who scheraes for heaven, is so far in the light as to know both, 'to know what heaven is, who God is, and how the one is to be served, and the other obtained ; and yet acts, on most occasions, is if he thought his soul not worth saving, nor God worth serving, nor hea ven worth acquiring. Experience would have made this shameful truth but too evident, had our Saviour never pronounced it. Cora pare the statesraan and saint, each in his own way, on VOL. III. M 162 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [dISC. the articles of attention, application, depth of thought, force of judgraent, and quickness or skill iri the choice of expedients and measures ; and you will soon subscribe to our Saviour's decision, though you do not receive him as yours. Compare the merchant, or lower still, the tradesman and farraer, with the plain good Christian, of equal, or, if you please, of superior abilities ; and while you see this mer chant, or mechanic, applying closely to his worldly business, looking sharply, reasoning clearly, judging skilfully, and, if need be, consulting the most knowing of his neighbours, in all his dealings, whether he buys, sells, or contests a pro perty of any kind ; you see the good Christian frequently off his guard, soraetimes asleep on the brink of destruction, and discovering such a want of knowledge and judgment, as to religious matters of the greatest raoment, that you cannot help wondering, what is becorae of that natural un derstanding he shews in other things, that do by no means so nearly concern hira. See how the worldly man labours by day and night ! how he weighs his words ! how he sets his very looks to the drift of his designs ! how, like a ser pent, he winds this way and that, when he is ata pinch ! how he now raines and dives frora the eye of your penetration ! and how now again he shews his teeth, if he hopes to inti midate ! and all this perhaps for an advantage of five or six shillings in buying your web of cloth, or selling his horse ! what do you see like this in the Christian, considered as such? It is true he, now and then, examines himself; sometiraes meditates ; often prays ; goes frequently to the house and table of God ; is honest in his dealings ; is com passionate to the poor ; is sober as to vrine, and modest as to women. But then how often do senseless prejudices, idle customs, or unruly passions, throw him off his guard into a conduct, as remote from comraon sense, as from the strictness of his religious principles ! How many idle words are suffered to pass over his tongue, and unworthy thoughts through his mind ! Is there a day wherein he does not, more than once, put his hand to such actions as religion forbids, or neglect those it requires ? How cool is he to the honour of God, and to the propagation of his gos pel among his children and servants ? Does he appear to LIX.J FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. 163 hunger or thirst for righteousness ? Does he care, cark, and labour, with all the vehemence of his affections, and at the full stretch of his faculties, for heaven ; as the child of this world does for vanity and vexation ? Far from it. God is his raaster; but were you to judge by his behaviour only on many occasions, you would take him to be the servant of some lord, equally void of sense and goodness. Heaven too is his aim, but were you to judge of it merely by the manner of his pursuit (sb feeble at best, so often interrupted by trifles, and so ill-advised throughout), you would take heaven to be, of all things, the raost insignificant. How far are the votaries of heaven outdone by those of arabition and avarice! A Csesar, or Cromwell, aims at ends that seera to be placed beyond the bounds of possi bility, and above the reach of huraan power. Yet by a thorough exertion of their abilities, by an obstinate perse verance in well-chosen measures (well chosen, I mean, in regard to the ends in view), and by a resolution which no hardships, no dangers can shake, they, in a few years, ac complish their designs, and find they had laboured for no thing but • vanity and vexation of spirit J' As much a fool is the miser in regard to his end, and no less wise in the choice of means. How mortified is the man to all folly and vanity, but the folly and vanity of possessing more than he can possibly ever use, or even means in the least to enjoy. From his view of growing richer he never wavers a single moment, nor to the value of a single farthing. He wastes such wisdora on the acquisition of a shilling, as Caesar could not outdo in that of an empire. What candidate now for an heavenly crOwn can you com pare with Csesar or Cromwell? Who labours for eternal riches, as the miser does for money ? What is the wisdom of the saint, or raartyr, to theirs ? Which of these heroes in Christianity does not often fall into stupid errors and sins, it raay be of the grosser kinds, as David and St. Peter? Take Solomon, if you please, for the wisest child of light. Did ever the silliest child of this world deviate so far from his worldly scherae of life, as that raonarch did, from his religious one, when he was on his knees before a deified stone or log ? The force of human understanding is in nothing so clearly M 2 164 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [dISC. seen, as in the wars waged by mankind on one another, for things of no value, often for things of a pernicious nature, to the possessors. The art of war, and the display of it in a long and active campaign, is undoubtedly the highest ex emplification of human wisdora, that hath everbeen, or pos sibly can be given. Is the Christian warfare, wherein the soul and heaven are contended for, raanaged with any thing like it? No, tbere is nothing so silly as the Christian sol dier in his endeavours to defeat the stratageras of his spi ritual eneraies ; nothing so awkward as he in the use of his armour. His helraet of salvation is thrown on the ground, and his shield of faith lies at a distance, when the adversary of his soul is laying at hira. With the sword of the spirit he knows not how to make a single stroke, when infidelity and vice ought to be invaded. How he yawns, when his enemies are upon him ! How he nods over the danger of endless misery. Though the Christian raartyrs died for truth, for heaven, and for God, we adraire their fortitude and contempt of death, and revere it as a great and singular sort of heroism, as if they had not trarapled on pain and death for soraewhat in finitely raore valuable, than present ease and life. But a single field of battle may suffice to shew, how this world's martyrs exceed them in numbers, and equal them in bra very, by the hundred thousand, who encounter death there in all its pomp and terror, and by the twenty thousand that fall for the hope of a little higher post, or for the payment of sixpence by the day. Christianity is not less outdone by this world in confessors, than in martyrs. Who suffers so much hunger, cold, self-denial, or even persecution for reli gion, as the raiser just now raentioned, for his wealth ? Who is so saving of his conscience, or of his treasure in heaven, as this wretch is, of a mouldy crust, or an inch of candle ? Now, were the spiritual wisdom of much greater extent and difficulty in the acquisition, than the worldly; or, did the beneflts arising from the possession ofthe worldly wis dom, vastly exceed those which spring frora the spiritual; the too general indifference for, and ighorance of this, and the intense desire of that, together with the prodigious pro gress raade in it, observable in the bulk of raankind, wonld, on the comparison, be less astonishing and shameful than LIX.J FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. 165 they are. But the truth is, a few days are sufficient, for the attainraent of so much spiritual wisdora, as is requisite for the salvation of a soul, and the benefits arising from it, infi nite ; whereas, the close application of an antideluvian life it not enough to raake any raan a thorough master of the worldly wisdom ; and then, its fruits and benefits, as their utraost termination is at the grave, must be bufc of very little value to an immortal being. Besides, the worldly wisdom alraost always fails of its end, the spiritual, never. Again, he who thirsts for the spiritual wisdom, for ' pure water from the fountain of life,' is as well qualified to receive it in the vessel ofits natural capacity, as the mere temporal man is to receive that, in his, which flows from the fens and quagmires ofthis world. The art, neveltheless, of reclaiming and saving the soul, and of acquiring eternal happiness, short and easy as itis to the learner, and infallible as it is, if known and reduced to practice, in the attainment of its infinitely desirable end, is but imperfectly known, and still raore iraperfectly applied, by the real children of light. But the art of acquiring riches, of catering for our pleasures, and of rising to worldly power and honour, which cannot be arrived at, without infinite study and pains, which is so difficult in the practice, and hazardous in the success, as all raen know; and as all dying raen know, so vain, so insignificant in its end and aim ; is well understood, and as well followed, by the generality of raankind ; and why ? But because the children of this world, who are by far the greater nuraber, give their whole hearts, and consequently their whole heads to it ; while the child ren of light give but a share, perhaps no great share, of either, to that light, and the reraainder is afc fche service of a- world, which fchey have solemnly renounced. There is no child ofthis world, who, supposing him ever so unthinking, will not choose a greater, rather than a sraaller piece of gold, though they raust be put into the scales to find a difference. But supposing the difference to be very considerable, as of one, and a thousand, in that case, if he hath his choice, he never deliberates, but instantly, eagerly prefers the greater. So instantly would he choose a life, rather than an hour, of pleasure, equal in degree, and differ ing only in continuance. So instantly would he choose a 166 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [DISC. large estate, rather than a single acre ; and a kingdom, than an estate. So far reason helps the most stupid to wisdom in sensible and worldly things ; but goes a great way farther in deeper thinkers. These it will put on ploughing and sow ing in order to soraewhat yet unseen, the future increase of harvest ; it will put them on laying out large sums in trade, with a view to future profit ; it will put them on practising the strictest abstinence, on swallowing the raost nauseous raedicines, or even on cutting off their lirabs, for sake of fu ture health. Yet the difference between the thing chosen, and the thing avoided, in all these and the like cases, is but small ; for every man knows, that a few days may, or, at least, a few years must, reduce it to nothing. But set the sarae raan to compare temporal things witb eternal, and you shall see him, as it were, suddenly deprived of his reason, choosing that which is uncertain, rather than that which is sure ! that which is raoraentary, rather than that which is eternal ! fchafc which is sraall and worthless, rather than that which is infinitely valuable ! Nay, that which he knows to be evil on the whole, rather than that which he knows to be wholly good. In all this now he fol lows but one rule, a rule, directly against which he acts in tillage, trade, physic, naraely, to choose the present rather than the future, thougli the future is, in his own judgment, infinitely better. If we inquire, how it coraes to pass that his boasted rea son here so strangely deserts hira, we shall find, it is because he seldom weighs spiritual and temporal things together in the same balance, but apart, and therefore knows not how to make a just and fair comparison. Temporal and present things press on him, not only with all their own, but with a large addition of imaginary weight.^ This is owing to the quickness of his senses, and the vehemence of his affections and passions. On the other side, spiritual things lie but lightly on his apprehension through the deadness of his faith, and the dullness or infrequency of his meditations. Having therefore lively irapressions ofthe temporal, he easily discerns their differences, and weighs thera, one against the other, with sufficient exactness ; but can raake little or no coraparison of ' the spiritual with spiritual,' a thing never done, ' but by the wisdom which the Holy Ghost teacheth,' i.IX.J FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. 167 because he will not give his mind to this wisdom, nor admit a clear and lively sense of such things. But, if at any tirae, sense on one side, and faith on the other, should attempt to bring the comparative weight of temporal and spiritual things to the test of his reason ; his reason, knowing only the weight of the former, nay, perhaps taking it to be greater than it is, through the imposition of his senses, appetites, affections, passions, and imagination ; and little, or not at all, affected by his faith towards the lat ter ; swerves to the side of teraporal things, or is too easily prevailed with, at least to tolerate a preference she cannot approve. Here reason loses her prerogative, not her being, or her strength ; for henceforth she is eraployed in planning and executing the worldly or sensual scheraes of her se ducers, and, according to her higher or lower degree of abi lity, makes the raan a more or less ingenious fool, ingenious as to means, and a fool as to ends. He knows the differ ence between a true and counterfeit farthing, and a.ways chooses the true ; yet he obeys the command of a pope against the express command of God ; he strains at the gnat of mint-tithe, and swallows the camel of iniquity and cruelty; he boggles at an innocent, perhaps useful, ceremony, but stretches away at full speed on the road of schism. Here you may learn how it is, that 'the evidence of things not seen' dwindles down to almost nothing ; ' and the substance of things hoped for' evaporates into a shadow. Death and judgment, because yet future, and not foreseen in any precise point of time, are set aside, as events that may never occur. Heaven and hell too are reraoved still farther from the attention ; and even he, who is not only ' about thera but within thera, is not in all the thoughts of such men.' No, they have other things to think of, ' what they shall eat, and what they shall drink, and wherewithal they shall be clothed;' nay, how they shall gather that which they never raean to use, or squander that which they know not how to give ; how they shall prolong their lives, and shorten their days ; how they shall reconcile honour to treachery in themselves, and contempt to integrity in other men ; how they who find no satisfaction in a natural world made by God, may be happy in an artificial one of their own raaking, with pernicious cookeries for wholesorae food, with 168 FOLLY AVISER THAN AVISDOM. [dISC. coaches instead of their own legs, and with candlelight in the place of sunshine. Here is their treasure ; and here are their hearts,; and here therefore are their heads too, full- fraught with that kind of wisdom, which is necessary to a scheme of life, infinitely perplexed in its views, and not less opposed in the raanagement. Now, the good Christian (I mean as the world goes) par takes too rauch in this character, and looks like the joint issue of light, and of this world. His false heart often for gets that it belongs to a Christian, and is divided. So is his understanding too of course. He goes to two different schools, and attends to two opposite arts, and therefore cannot possibly be so good a proficient in either, as the worldling is in the manageraent of his teraporal designs, which engrosses the whole raan. Thus stands tbe comparison betvveen the real children of light, and those ofthis world. You may easily judge how it is likely to terrainate between the latter, and the pre tended children of light, who raake Christianity the com pliment of their professions only, bufc know almost nothing ofits principles or spirit, and live in direct contradiction to what they do know. Here we have not wisdom to compare vvith wisdom, but downright folly and stupidity of the grossest kind. We need not, therefore, take up much time in exaraining a difference so glaringly evident on the slightest inspection. The professors 1 ara speaking of, insist they are Chris tians ; and we, for the present, will grant it, purely because they have been baptized ; but we raust fcake leave afc the sarae time to call them children of this world, for this ob vious reason, that we can see nothing in them or about thera, which savours of any thing else. As each of tiiem, therefore, is a sort of double man, we want not another for a comparison, and have nothing raore to do, than just to see whether his wisdora as a child of light, or as a child of this world, is most considerable. This will cost us but little pains. Two or three points of trial will lead us to a clear decision. View hira on his woridly side, in his contracfcs and co venants with raankind about all sorts of property, and yoa will find hira keen enough to be a match for any man, even LIX.J FOLLY V.'ISER THAN WISDOM. 169 for a man of the law. He knows to a tittle what he is en titled to, and vvhat he must do to raake good his pretensions. This he performs with the greatest exactness, and that he claims with equal precision. Yet this very man, turned round and viewed on the Christian side, is found wholly ignorant of the covenant be tween God and his soul. What God hath therein proraised to hira, or he vowed to God, he little knows, and as little cares. Heaven is promised, and he is sworn to believe and obey. But what is heaven good for? Or what is his vow to him ? Yes, heaven, he says, he wishes for of all things, but owns he cannot act up to the terms on which it is offered, yet hopes he shall at last be adniitted there. He does not expect an harvest without ploughing and sowing, yet hopes for an eternal kingdora, without doing, or even knowing what is to be done, to obtain it. He says to God, ' depart frora me, for I desire not the knowledge of thy ways ;' but is in no pain about the raenace of Christ, who hath threatened to answer him at the last day, with his own word, ' depart from me, for I know you not.' In all the contests he maintains wifch ofchers aboufc pro perfcy or honour, his fcifcle fco either will bear no argument, whereof he does not know the utmost force, and does not make the utmost use. His adversary, though as subtle as he, can pass none on him, that admits of a solid or even of a plausible answer. No prejudices of education, no whims, can so blind the eye of his judgment here, as to warp it frora his pretensions. How different a raan is he in religious disputations! Here he hath nothing but sophistry and passion for reason; and with these endeavours to support the raost stupid ig norance, the raost groundless prejudices, the wildest imagi nations. He cannot be sent to buy bread, in order to eat it for flesh, nor to buy wine in order to drink it for blood, to any other but a religious market. He will not quarrel with his neighbours, nor cut their throats for wearing a white or black coat, any where else but in a church. He may be brought, such is his modesty, soraetiraes fco give up his judgment to that of another raan in secular affairs ; but, in religious matters, he ' leans to his own understanding, and decides against the plain and express declarations of God.' 170 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [dISC. He does not believe, he will be less expert in any profession or science, bufc fchafc ofreligion, for being early insfcructed in its principles. Take him now in practice, and you will soon perceive how ill the religious part of him can bear a comparison with the worldly. See how he studies, dresses, dangles, to hu mour his worldly patron ! How he labours to serve the man who can promote him ! How he mortifies all his own pas sions to gratify those of the great man he depends on ! A word or a nod from his lordship sufficiently intiraates his will to the spaniel, who is sure to make one on every public day, and to run at every invitation. Far otherwise does this pretended servant of God testify his dependence on Almighty goodness. What appetite will he deny, what passion will he subdue, what worldly view will he lose sight of, to honour or please Almighty God? God calls hira to his house ; but he hath somewhere else to go ; or if not, thither, in that case, perhaps he does go, but with infinite indifference, sometiraes even with an air of condescension; and when he is there, good God ! how little does he look as if he were praying to thee, or listening to thy word. When God invites hira to the food of eternal life, this goodly Christian either turns a deaf ear to the gracious call, and always stays away, or goes once only for five tiraes he ought to go, or goes in the rags and filth of his sins. And this, he wisely judges, is enough to ensure his salvation with an all-knowing searcher of hearts ; attendance enough for that Saviour who purchased hira with his blood. Had this pretended servant of God any spiritual wisdora, he would want no long or pressing exhortations to the duties of re ligion, for they say, a word is enough for the wise. But how raany lessons, psalms, epistles, gospels, must be read, and how many sermons preached, to hira, before he can be made, in any low degree, acquainted with his religion, or warmed to any feelings of piety, devotion, or repentance ! A look from the great man is well enough understood by this pretended child ^of light, who goes away unaffected from the repeated instructions and vehement exhortations of the great God. The great man does but intiraate, and is obeyed ; the great God cries aloud, again and again, and is LIX.J FOLLY WISER THAN AVISDOM. 171 not heard. The wretched man, nevertheless, of whom I am speaking, after acting this part, will stomach it not a little to be told, that as sure as God is a wise being, so surely must this his nominal servant be a fpol, for expecting any thing else from such a conduct, but infinite indignation. Nothing now can appear more wonderful than this man's stupidity, to one who considers the plentiful lights in order to religious knowledge, and the irresistible motives to the service of God, afforded by the gospel, whereof God by Isaiah, saith, ' I will bring the blind by a way that they know not; I will lead thera in paths that they have not known. I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. Hear ye, therefore, ye deaf, and look, ye blind, that ye, may see.' And, behold, immediately after he asketh, ' who is blind but my servant ? Seeing many things, but he observeth not ; and opening the ears but he beareth not.' Pursue the mere professor of Christianity into the gene ral tenor ofhis life and conversation, or his dealings among mankind, and you will find him there too, wise enough as to the affairs of this world, and worse than an ideot in matters of religion. Every thing that naturally tends to proraote the profits, pleasures, or honours, he aims at, that he studies, that he steadily pursues, that he carries into execution with admir able address. When, lawful measures prove insufficient, he lies, perjures, circumvents, or perhaps murders, if he hath room to hope for secrecy and safety, from infaray and death ; and no fox knows better how to kennel in a rock, than he does, in all the arts of fair appearance, and of eluding a legal prosecution. But as a Christian, ^he either proposes no scheme at all, or one directly contrary to the end he pretends to have in view. Heaven, he says, is his aira ; and wicked ness we know is his course, a course which he hiraself knows leads quite the contrary way. 'He travels with iniquity, and hath conceived raischief, and brought forth falsehood ; he leaves the paths of uprightness to walk in the way of darkness ;' yet he says, I am the child of light and hope, I ara in the way to heaven. He knows he is to be justly judged for the life he leads here, and either rewarded, ifa good man with heaven, which is infinitely preferable to all 172 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [dISC. the pleasures ; or punished, if wicked, with hell, which is in- finifcely worse than all the miseries ofthis world ; yet heaven he forfeits for a fcrifle, an oafch, a bottle ; and hell he rushes into, to avoid, soraewhat as insignificant, the taunts of a coxcorab, or the frowns of a paltry raan in power. What sort of wisdora now is his, who can so distinguish between small enjoyraents, not exactly equal, as to prefer, and be tween sraall disquietudes, not exactly equal, as fco avoid fche greafcer; and yefc knows nofc how to distinguish in either case when the difference is infinite ? How keenly does our Saviour upbraid this gross, I had alraost said, infinite folly, in the words of ray text ! One would think, no fool could be like hira, who prefers sin to virtue ; this world, or rather hell, to heaven ; and the enemy of raankind to God, as the avowed child of this world does. Christ, nevertheless, here raaintains that this is a wise man, to him who professing Christianity, and acknowledging all the attributes, particularly the infinite wisdom and holiness of God, hopes to be saved by that religion, against its most peremptory declarations ; to irapose on God hiraself; and to raake a sort of composition between virtue and vice, be tween God and the author of sin. The professed Christian declares, he hath given himself up to the guidance of that ' wisdom, which is from the Father of lights,' that wisdom which prefers the great to the little, the good to the evil, the infinite good to the infinite evil. But when in the midst of those lights, ' he walks not ho nestly as in the light,' but in ignorance and works of dark ness, does he not betray a rauch greater degree of folly, than the children ofthis world, who, if they prefer it. to heaven, are afc leasfc consisfcent with their own choice in the manage ment of their pursuit? 'Had it not been better for him never to have known the way of righteousness, than, after he hath known it, to turn frora the holy coraraandraent deli vered unto hira, like the dog to his vorait,' and the sow after sbe was washed, to her ' wallowing in the mire ?' He who hath chosen this world, and acts uniformly up to his choice, gives himself sorae chance of accomplishing his purpose, and is therefore by far a wiser man than he who having two in consistent ends in view, and attempting to arrive at them by two widely different ways, is sure to miss of both. In this LIX.J FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. 173 life, where we see little more than the outside of mankind, we are frequently shocked with the appearance ofa child of light, and of a child ofthis world, in the sarae raan, the most hideous of all monsters. This however is but an appear ance. Inthe eye of Christ who saith, 'it is impossible to serve God and raararaon,' and who never accepts half a heart, the raask becomes transparent, and nothing is seen within, but a raan of this world. The keen and charaeful charge, laid against us in the text, by the best of all friends, who loved us, who died fOr us, having the conscience and experience of every raan, and the truth of God hiraself to prove it ; how ought our faces to redden, and our hearts to break at the stupidity, the in gratitude, the infaray, thrown on us by so reproachful a censure ! How can we dare to be angry, when raen revile us in terras the most scandalous and opprobrious, since the very worst they can possibly say to us, or of us, is mere pa negyric, to that which God and our consciences say of us, and to us, as often as we peruse his word, or exaraine our selves ? Why should our nurabers, and our coraraunity in sharae give us countenance, since God, we know, passes judgraent on each of us singly by hiraself? Is it true then, that while we call Christ our Saviour, and consider the devil as the eneray of his glory and our own salvation, that enemy is served with more wisdom and zeal, than he ? that every earthly triflle is pursued with more ar dour than heaven? that all the affairs ofthis perishable world are transacted with raore skill and judgnient than those of religion? What new scourges, new thorns, new nails, and spears are these to the feeling of our gracious and compassionate Saviour ! What new, what continual matter of triumph to the malicious and insolent devil ! Had we any sense of true honour, or any spirit of indignation, they would surely take fire at this reflection; and once on fire, would animate us with a more than human resolution to turn the weapons ofour adversary against hiraself, to turn the incentives of pride, lust, and avarice, into so many instru raents of beneficence towards raen and glory to God, that so we raight, pursuant to the comraand of Christ,' 'make to ourselves friends of the raammon of unrighteousness, who when we fail may receive us unto everlasting habitations.' 174 FOLLY WISER THAN WISDOM. [dISC. If we are really the children of light, let us, with an in genuous concern to be outdone in wisdom by the most des picable of fools, firmly resolve to ' walk as children of the light, and to have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness.' As we are ' a chosen generation, a royal priest hood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, let us shew forth the praises of him who hath called us out of darkness into his marvellous light, by walking honestly as in the day, not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying,' but in that newness of life, to which the gospel of Christ hath called us. If we are really the children of light, of that light which raaketh every thing else manifest, and itself, most of all ; we must see, that ' Christ is that light,' that ' the Lord is our everlasting light, and God our glory.' Seeing this, how can we walk, on some occasions, as in the day, and, on others, as in the night, like the mongrel children both of lighfc and of fchis world. How can the Lord be our light, if we do not our utmost ' to walk worthy of the Lord ?' How can God be our glory, if we are a reproach to him and his holy religion ? Can we behold hira displayed, by his own glorious light, in all his infinite goodness to us, and not infinitely love hira ? And if we love him, in any propor tion to that goodness, which gave us being, and the means of salvation at the expence of his own precious blood, shall we suffer the children of this world so far to outstrip us in the zeal and wisdom of a service, rendered, against all sense and reason, to the most horrible of all beings, and for wages, paid here in no better coin than vanity and vexa tion, and hereafter in death eternal ? Shall we even make it impossible for raankind to judge, whether we are the servants of God, or of his eneray ? If we really dwell in the light, can we not see ourselves, and the way we are going ?. Or can we go two ways, up and down at once ? If we have any glimpse of true wis dom, shall we not take the advice of Soloraon, and endea vour ' to be wise for ourselves ?' Yet how- can we be wise for ourselves, if we atterapt to serve two opposite m.asters? Nay, if we suffer the plant, that bears eternal life, to pine in the lean soil of weak reason only, and a still weaker faith, while that which bears death and misery, grows rank LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 175 in all the fatness of our hearts ? We ought never to forget. that he who is now a child of light, as the devil was, before his fall, may, like hira, become a child of darkness and of this world, and with him, inherit ' outer darkness.' This most terrifying reflection should set us on the watch, should rouse every power of the soul and heart to the service of God, that we may ' stand fast in the faith ; that we may quit ourselves like raen, and be strong ;' that we may no longer blindly walk towards any other point but heaven, nor idly loiter in the way to that ; that we may ' lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us ;' that we may ' gird up our loins, and with patience run the race that is set before us, forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching forth unto those things tbat are before, and pressing toward the raark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.' O infinitely gracious and alraighty God, grant us, we beseech thee, strength to do this, to thy eternal glory, and our salvation, through Christ Jesus, to whom, with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and do minion, now, and for evermore. Amen. DISCOURSE LX. THE SCORNER SCORNED. PllFACHED ON A FAST-DAY IN TIME OF FAMINE AND UNSUCCESSFUL WAR, Phov. I. 24—26. Because Iliave called, and ye refused, Ihave stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; But ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity, I will mock, when your fear cometh. These words are foupd in the midst of a remarkable speech made by wisdom to that part of mankind, who most want, but are least inclined to receive, her admonitions. The wisdom that speaks is that divine Wisdom, or 'Word, whereby the Lord hath founded tbe earth, and established 176 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. the heavens; whora the Lord possessed from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was ;' who is ' the wisdom of God ; and who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.' The raen she speaks to, are the thoughtless, the insensible, the proud, the wicked. And, as if she did not expect to find a race like these, asserabled in a temple, synagogue, church, or any place peculiarly consecrated to religious instructions ; she, attacks thera in their own place of rendezvous, ' she crieth without, she uttereth her voice in the streets ; she crieth in the chief place of concourse, in the openings of the gates ; in the city she uttereth her words.' In the thoroughfare of ' the siraple ones, who love siraplicity,' and hide themselves therein ; on the very parade of ' the scorners,' vvho with pleasure, glory ' in their scorning;' just in the pafch of 'fools, who hafce knowledge,' because ifc exposes their folly, and ' reproves their evil deeds ;' araidst ' the deaf adders,' by na ture incapable of hearing, yet ' stopping their ears,' lest they should by some miracle be forced to hear, and afc the same tirae opening their mouths, thatthey may fasten their enve- noraed teeth on their teachers ; in this crowded raart of business; this broad way of pleasure, porap, and ambition; this kennel of vice and pollution ; even here, the wisdom of God raiseth its voice, and utfcerefch its sacred words. But is it possible that the voice of God should deign to mix itself with a claraour set up by folly and wickedness, where, as in their own eleraent, they ride rampant and tri umphant ? Why not ? On whora should ' this light shine ?' but on those ' who sit in darkness ?' To whora should wisdom preach, but to fools? Or threaten the terrors ofthe Lord, but to proud and obstinate fools? When this Wisdom or ' Word of God was made flesh, and dwelt among us,' as he ' came into the world to save sinners,' so he conversed with sinners, but without sin. He brought the medicine of the soul to those who needed a physician, but without catching any infection. It is true, he was ' a friend to publicans and sinners,' but without being himself ' a gluttonous person, or a wine-bibber,' without 'consenting to the thief,' or ' being partaker with the adulterer.'. As ¦ all things were raade by him,' and the holy Scriptures LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 177 revealed by his spirit, so he teacheth both by his word and works. By his word he calls us to faith and repentance ; and by his works of nature and providence he gives perpetual en couragement to the virtues, and scourges the vices of raan kind. In tiraes, like these particularly, he preaches to us even by our own follies and crimes, together with their un happy effects, preaches righteousness to the yet uncorrupted observer, and repentance to the yet feeling sinner, in a strain of oratory, that is truly pathetic. In this sort of eloquence chiefly consists the force of that speech, wherewith the wisdom of God, in the mystic charac ter of a woman, here addresses her auditors of the street. Let us hear her at large in this and other parts of Scripture, where it will be evident, she applies herself, not only to the Israelites, but to all men, peculiarly indeed to us of these countries, and in these tiraes. Suffer rae only to lend her a tongue, and to be when your dulness may possibly require it, her interpreter. 'He that hath ears to hear, let him hear;' or if he cannot hear, let hira feel, now that the rod is laid on to urge the lesson, the rod, I mean, of famine, and a calami tous war, the effect, the punishment of our departure from God, and contempt for his holy religion. ' How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate know ledge? Turn ye at ray reproof; behold, I will pour out ray spirit unto you, I will raake known ray vvords unto you. Because I have called, and ye refused, I have stretched out ray hand, and no man regardeth ; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of ray reproof; I also will laugh at your calaraity, I will raock, when your fear cometh ; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a wirldwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon rae, but I will not an^ swer ; they shall seek rae early, bufc they shall not find rae ;. for that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear ofthe Lord; they would none of ray counsel; they despised all ray reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices. For the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and the pros perity of fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth VOL. in. N 176 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. unto me, shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil.' Were wisdom to speak personally and directiy to us of these countries, and at this very time, just so would she speak ; and no doubt, this her most upbraiding and alarming speech was written for our admonition. It is true, she speaks of the too late return of the wicked, and of her de termined deafness to their cries, as future events ; ' then shall they call upon me, but 1 will not answer.' Herein only does her address appear fco be somewhafc inapplicable fco us; for alfchough the calaraities she threatens, are, in sorae raeasure, already inflicted on us, we are as far from calling on her, as in the raidst of our stupifying prosperity ; although ' the day of our calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon us raake haste, yet we obey not, neither incline our ears, but make our necks stiff,' that we may not hear nor re ceive instruction. In all other points these words of wisdom corae horae to our particular case, pierce to fche bottom ofour sins, and paint exactly the dreadful condition, into which we are entering, as fast as the rapid tide of our infidelity and crimes can carry us. The introduction to the speech just repeated, hath two things very remarkable in it. First, the divine speaker calls those to whora she addresses herself, by the naraes of ' simple ones, scorners, and fools ;' and yet in the second place, she exhorts thera ' to turn at ber reproof,' and proraises ' to pour out her spirit,' and 'raake known her words unto thera.' By the forraer, she atterapts to gain an hurable and obedient ear, if possible, even frora the fool and the scorner ; and in order to it, lets them know, who she is, and who they are; how wise and glorious she ; how stupid, how despicable, how every way impotent, helpless, and miserable, they. By the latter, she affords encouragement, even in case ofthe grossest folly, to hope for knowledge, and on supposition of the most scornful obstinacy past, to expect her grace and spirit, if the one • will but hear and fear,' and the other ' cease to rage, and be confident.' From this sharp, and yet compassionate raanner of ac- costraent, she goes on, first, to reraind thera of her having 'called and stretched out her hand to them.' LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 179 Secondly, of their having ' refused to hear her call,' of their having universally ' disregarded the stretching out of her hand,' and of their, having ' set at nought all her counsel, and despised her reproof.' And then thirdly, to assure thera, ' she will laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear cometh.' First, the divine wisdom rerainds her senseless and haughty hearers of her having ' called and stretched out her hand to thera.' But how hath she called ? Why, first, by the voice of common sense and reason, that power of reasoning and refiecting, which she hath bestowed, in a greater or less degree, on every human creature. By this she hath called on thera, to consider, that God governs the world both by the nature of things, and his providence ; that, if folly could possibly succeed against nature, wickedness at least cannot hope to prosper in spite of providence ; and that it is not only atheism, but distraction, to believe, they may, be ap pearances, for a time, ever so tempting. But lest reason should fail in the performance of this most easy office, she hath called to thera by the history of forraer times to reflect, that every irreligious nation was a wicked nation ; and that no wicked nation could, for a mo ment, preserve itself from slavery, or long, frora total ruin ; and she hath called on them by their own experience to mark the truth of those Scriptural, but common observations, that ' the prosperity of the wicked is short,' and that ' he suddenly cometh to a fearful end.' And that these reflections may be made witb the greater firequency and strength, the Divine wisdora hath continually called to them by her holy Scriptures, and given that which was only huraan reason before, the vigour of a voice from heaven, loudly threatening the folly of the simple ones with adversity, the pride of the scorner, with a fall, and wicked ness with vengeance. But as men, so very foolish and vain, are too apt, in obedience to appetite and passion, to stifle their own reason, to overlook the events of things, and to turn away both their eyes and ears from the word of God, she hath never ceased to call them by her ministers to the right use of their rational faculties, to the experiments daily made before their eyes of the power whereby God and nature perpetually scourge the N 2 180 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. wicked, and to the awful menaces in Scripture of wrath, judgraent, and fiery indignation, on the irapenitent. Thus, by reason, conscience, and every thing within thera ; by nature, experience, and every thing around them ; by the word of God, and the voice of his ministers, now soothing in the proraises, now alarming in the threatenings, of truth infallible, and justice irresistible, she bath called them to instruction ; and if she had been heard, would have roused them to conversion. But what does she promise ? Not only the things that now are, but those which are tp come ; things infinitely great, and eternally to be desired ; things which the carnal eye hath not, cannot see ; and which it cannot enter into the carnal heart to conceive or imagine. And what does she threaten ? Judgraents here, and damnation hereafter; judgments, however which the worldly-minded is too much an infidel to fear, and eternal daranation, which the sensual corapound with for the plea sures of a raoment. As a skilful orator labours to enforce what he says to the ear, by the gestures wherewith he speaks to the eye, and hopes to render his eloquence visible ; so the divine wisdora also ' stretches out her hand,' and pleads the cause of goodness and happiness with a sort of action, suitable to the infinite dignity of her person, and the infinite irapor tance of that cause ; for in her hand she holds forth not only ' length of days, riches, honour,' and every temporal blessing, but happiness and glory eternal. When these fail of the intended effect, she knows how to fill ber hand with disfcresses and calaraifcies, wifch judgraents teraporal and spiritual ; and when either alone proves unsuccessful, she confers the forraer, or inflicts the latter by turns ; she cheers with plenty, or scourges with faraine ; she comforts with health, or dejects with sickness ; she encourages with peace, or terrifies with war, as tbe obstinacy of her hearers may require the one, or their docility entitle them to the other. She uses the ' low still voice' to whisper knowledge and duty to the sensible ear of a lively conscience; and thunders ' the terrors ofthe Lord' to a haughty or hardened heart. ' He that hath ears to hear,' must hear such a preacher ; he that hath eyes to see, must see such engines of persuasion ; and he that hath any sense of feeling, must LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 181 feel the force of those engines, at least when they are im mediately applied to his soul and conscience, too stupidly heavy to be moved by a power less than infinite, and even by that at a distance. Here indeed is eloquence in perfection, working on the judgment with arguments irresistibly convincing, and on all the senses, desires, affections, passions, with all nature, wifch fche whole world, with heaven and hell, with God, and all his attributes of wisdora, justice, raercy, and power, as instruraents of persuasion. There is no one here, to whora this powerful speaker hath not preached in that ' voice, which hath gone out into all lands,' and those words which have been sounded ' to the end of the world.' Who is he that hath not heard ' the word of God, which is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder' of soul and spirit, and ' of the joints and marrow?' Or who is he who, after hearing her speak through the works and word of God, hath not also heard her speak more particularly to himself in the blessings and judgments of his providence, urging every word with coraforts too tender, one would think, not to melt the raost insensible, or blows too terrible, not to quell the raost stubborn heart ? Yet where is the effect ? Why, in the second place, alraost all, to whora she hath called, ' have refused to answer her ;' have ' disregarded the stretching out of her hand ; have set at nought all her counsel, and despised her reproof.' The blessings she hath proraised have not soothed, nor the judgraents she threat ened, alarraed thera ; so that she raay truly say, ' I have piped unto you, but ye have not danced ; I have mourned unto you, bufc ye have nofc lamented.' In the end, however, I shall be 'justified of my children' and servants, who, knowing how much greater trust ought to be reposed in me, than in the wisdom of the world, do repose it. I also, in return, will justify them at that tirae, when I shall dis tinguish between their obedience and your rebellion. They have heard ray call ; I will theirs. But as for you, ' I will nuraber you to the sword,' and ye shall ' bow down to the slaughter,' because ' when I called, ye did not answer ; when I spoke, ye did not hear, but did evil before raine eyes, and did choose that wherein I delighted not. Therefore 1S2 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. thus saith the Lord God, behold, my servants shall eat, but ye shall be hungry ; behold, my servants shall drink, but ye shall be thirsty; behold, my servants shall rejoice, but ye shall be asharaed; behold, my servants shall sing for joy of heart, but ye shall cry for sorrow of heart, and shall howl for vexation of spirit.' Our great unworthiness (to say no worse) considered, it is surely more by far than we could reasonably expect at God's hands, ' to have, Avhen we earnestly ask ; to find, when we diligently seek ; and to be opened unto, when we veheraently knock.' But if infinite wisdom condescends to be our suitor, and to entreat our acceptance of her gifts, shall we refuse ? to seek for us, shall we not be found ? To knock at our understandings and hearts with all the strength of reason, revelation, conscience, experience, preaching; shall she be denied admittance ? Yet, such is our folly, that we prefer ignorance to her instruction, and darkness to light, ' because our deeds are evil ;' and such our pride, that we scorn her call, because it is a call to humility, to self-condemnation, and self-denial, and that only, when self is become the enemyof our happiness, temporal and eternal. But howsoever the not attending to her bare instructions may be excused in wretches, too dull to hear, too stupid to understand ; yet how can we be so blind as not to see her hand sfcrefcched out, and filled with blessings and curses ? Or so insensible as neither to feel the one in our miseries and fears, nor the other in our gratitude, when they are actually poured upon us ? During the last sijcty-five years, what peace, liberty, iraprovement, plenty, hath she not showered on us with an unstinted hand ! And how have we received these blessings ? Why, only as so many pro vocatives to irreligion and wickedness. What hath our long peace produced, but a stupid security? What, our singular liberty, but unbounded licentiousness ? What, the continual iraproveraent of our country, but corruption of raanners, and the arts of refinement in folly and wicked ness ? What, our uncommon plenty of money and the comforts of life, but desires inflaraed beyond all possibility of control, by a wanton indulgence, and pampered up to madness by excessive luxury in eating, drinking, dressing, and attendance ? LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 183 On the other hand (to say nothing of the severities wherewith the sins of our forefathers were chastised in forraer ages), she hath, by her providence in the govern raent of the world, frequently, in our days, scourged the growing infidelity of these countries in famines, pestilential fevers, rebellions, &c. with as much sharpness as was con sistent with the great indulgence just now mentioned. On particular occasions, we have suffered rauch, and with rea son, dreaded raore ; but neither suffered, as if sensible our afflictions were the natural effects of our sins, nor dreaded, as if at all apprehensive of God's displeasure. Our want of provisions was charged to the account of unnatural sea sons ; our contagious disorders to unwholsorae dispositions of the air ; and our rebellions, to the policy of the French king, and the designs of a pretender. Few among us traced these calaraities to the overruling wisdora and justice of God, or considereid, that second causes are, moved and directed by the first. Public fasts and days of humiliation have been indeed, from time to tirae, appointed, and kept with some little shew of religious sorrow by a small number of us ; but all our former luxury, wantonness, wickedness, have never failed to return with the next meal. For one day of gloom dedicated to God, a whole year of riot hath been constantly offered up to his enemy. In short, we have not loved God the more for what we enjoyed, nor feared him the raore for what we suffered ; but have for gotten hira, not only after, but in the very instant of both, because we neither would ' hear the voice of his wisdoin, nor see the sfcrefcching out of her hand.' No, on the contrary, we ' have ,set at nought all her counsel.' Two ways she hath offered it to us, by the na ture of things, and by the holy Scriptures. By a tolerable experience in the nature of things, particularly of our own nature, and of ordinary causes and effects, so far as they concern our safety and welfare in this life, we raay easily gather a sufficient stock of prudence for the manageraent of ourselves and our affairs. Wisdora, for instance, by her natural counsel, soon teaches him who is capable of learn ing any thing at all, that it is best to wake by day, and sleep by night ; that food naturally wholesome, pleasant, and easily obtained, is preferable to the contrary; that 184 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. the natural figure and proportion of the human body is more convenient and beautiful, than any other which art may bestow upon ifc; fchafc industry and action are more conducive to health, and the supply of all our wants, than sloth and idleness ; that teraperance is the parent and nurse of health and every virtue ; and luxury, of sickness and every vice ; and that whatsoever is governed by wisdom and design, is better governed than that which is left to chance or hazard. Wisdom, by her counsels, as conveyed to us in holy Writ, pursues the business of our instruction to yet higher and nobler lessons. Here she teaches us to know our Maker, the ends for which we were raade, and the proper methods of proraoting those ends. Here she directs our eyes through faith to imraortality and glory, and lays out the road that leads to both. Here she proposes every mo tive and encouragement to virtue ; and when we neverthe less fall into sin, and begin to lose our hopes of the great things promised, she calls us back to our duty, and shews us how to obtain mercy and forgiveness. How miserably are her counsels in each conveyance re jected ! The present tiraes declare aloud for nature, and write and talk so much about the sufficiency of nature, together with the indispensable expediency and duty of following nature in every thing, that, taking the world only by its words, one would imagine we were hastening back apace into a sort of golden age, or priraitive state of pure, natural simplicity. But in truth all this talk is made use of only to run down revelation, and discredit the necessity of supernatural assistances ; for in what age of the world did mankind ever shew a more thorough contempt for nature ? Or when were they more absolutely enslaved, against common sense and reason, to artificial modes of living, and an endless round of refinement, too piteously silly to be the object of a sen sible ridicule, and too destructive of every virtue, every real comfort of life, to stand the test of experience in the great est dunce among all her scholars ? Is sleeping in the day with the owl and bat, and waking in the night with the robber and the wolf, a practice autho rized by nature ? Or is the light of a candle more natural LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 186 than that of the sun ? Can the recreations (not to say the business) of a rational being find a fitter season in the gloomy, the darap, and dangerous air of the night, than in that of the day, when all nature in its beauty, calls us up to health, joy, and an unforced flow of spirits ? Hath nature fitted our constitutions for a riotous indul gence in artificial meats and drinks? The wisdora of God denies it. She never gave us a natural desire of that which is not in nature, and is only the effect of art. Will he who is so vain of his person, as to study nothing else but his dress, so dress himself, as to disfigure that per son, and turn himself every year into a new kind of raon ster ? Is this following nature ? Were idleness as agreeable to nature as the love of it is common, how could even the necessaries of life be pro cured ? Or can it be supposed, that wealth hath given one sort of body to the rich, and necessity quite another sort to the poor? If they have, surely wealth and necessity are not both the work of nature. If idleness were natural to us, how comes it to pass that the idle are always not only the most useless, but the most profligate and raost miserable of mankind ? If we really mean to follow nature, as it is, why do we not banish our luxury of every, kind, strip ourselves of all our refineraents, and -reduce ourselves to the principles and manners, in all respects, of those true naturalists the native Americans, Negroes, and Hottentots ? These, of all men we know, are the closest followers of nature; and that which distinguishes the inhabitants of these countries from them, is only either preternatural, or artificial. If they are as God made thera, neither he nor nature could have had any hand in making us, who are nothing more than the creatures of art, refinement, and fashion. It would be a blasphemy against nature, or nature would be a blasphemy against the Creator, should we ascribe to nature a monster, a pageant, tricked out only for shew, consisting, it is true, ofa soul, but a soul steeped in the corruption of every vice; and of a body, but a body tottering, or rotting under every distemper. Do they follow nature, who are for taking that which, of all things, they have most at heart, out of the hands, not 186 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. only of reason and lawful industry, but, of God's provi dence, and giving it up to the decision of chance at a gam ing table ? The miseries suffered by the slaves of the devil would be somewhat more tolerable to pride than they are, were they not so infinitely ridiculous. To be fished for, and to be caught with a bare hook, or with known experienced mi sery, is such an insult to the infidelity and vices of that age, which boasts ifcself fche mosfc refined and sagacious of all ages, as can be no otherwise accounfced for, bufc by the supposition ofa general infatuation. Where is that vaunted reason in the pursuit of nature, whereof we hear so much talk ? Does it consist in preferring the things of this world to God and heaven ; and then in wildly wasting those things, so preferred, on objects and pursuits, too silly for the wishes of a child, too gross for the taste of a brute, and both publicly and privately too ruinous to end in any thing else, than in universal slavery, distress, or desolation ? Are these the dictates of reason ? Is this the appointment of nature? Tell rae, are you, the present pretended advocates for nature, the only beings in the creation, who are privi leged fco trample on nature, on your own nature ? And must the God of nature be denied a right to speak above nature, to suspend or invert nature, that is, to work a miracle for your conviction and retrieval, when nothing else, nothing in nature, can effect it ? If you thus set at nought the counsel of wisdora, even as conveyed by nature, which you profess to adraire and fol low, it is no wonder you should still more flatly reject it in the Scriptures, where it is accorapanied with certain ne cessary austerities which you do not relish ; no wonder, you should say to wisdora, when she thus addresses you, ' depart frora us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. What is the Almighty that we should serve him. And what profit should we have if we pray unto him ?' It is still less to be wondered at, that you should despise her reproofs, whether as uttered by her ministers, or backed by her providential corrections. Her ministers, if they at terapt to • persuade you by the terrors of the Lord,' and threaten your horrible enorraities with vengeance from the hand of a chastising God, are to be shunned and persecuted. LX.J THE SCORffER SCORNED. 187 And when what they have threatened comes to pass in pub hc or private calaraities, which tend to the disappointraent of your abominable pursuits and unreasonable expectations; you then murmur and kick at Providence, as if your lives gave you a right to a paradise ofyour own making. Is ifc following nature or reason to expect to be whispered to, at a time when you are almost deaf! or to be flattered when you only insult ! Is it reasonable to. give drams in fevers, because the raad patient is pleased with thera ! Do rational parents cherish their children for spitting in their faces, purely because those children would rather be cherished than chastised? Is it reasonable to expect tbat kings should reward and proraote robbers, cut-throats, and rebels, merely because such sort of men would be glad to live at large and without law, and to be rewarded and proraoted at the sarae time ? Can you reasonably expect fche comforfcs of life, who have never taken the necessary pains to acquire thera ? Or you who are perpetually exchanging them for superfluities and throwing them away on your follies and vices "^ Can a nation reasonably expect fidelity and patriotisra frora those to whom it hath sold its power ? Is it reasonable to hope, that wretches, softened on the down of luxury, and lulled in the lap of ease and wanton ness, should stand the hardships of war, and shine as he roes in the day of battle? Is it possible that effeminacy and cowardice, worse than those of women, should conquer? Or that God should providentially, nay, miraculously, inter pose, to crown with victory a people, as dissolute, aban doned and infidel in his sight, as it is effeminate and abject in the sight of its eneraies ? We can conceive nothing more reasonable, than that God should govern with wisdora and justice that world, nay every nation, and even every particular person, of that world, on the creation whereof he hath expended so rauch wisdora, goodness, and power. To ascribe, therefore, as now almost every one does, the prosperity of a nation solely and ultimately to the wisdom, and all its calaraities solely and ultimately to the weakness of those at its helra ; and to suppose that God does not interfere, is true national and po litical atheism. Yet admitting the supposition, can the dis honest be safely trusted ? or can an unbeliever be honest ? 188 THE SCORNER SCORNED.. [dISC. When we see, every day, a country selling itself, and sold again by the purchasers, what madness is it to trace this only to political raistakes, and to hope for redress in new hands or raeasures, instead of turning our eyes on irre ligion, on a rejection of the counsels offered by divine wisdom, and on the contempt of her repeated reproofs, as the true sources of our disgraces abroad, and distresses at home? Having thus ' refused to answer, when w sdom called, disregarded the stretching out of her hand, set afc nought her counsel, and despised her reproof;' we have now but too much reason to expect, in the third and last place, her final sentence, her dreadful dismiss ; ' I also will laugh at your calaraity, I will raock when your fear cometh ; when your fear coraeth as desolation, and your destruction coraeth as a whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you.' Fearful sentence ! a people distressed by a decay of trade ! reduced alraost to their last raorsel of bread ! unsuc cessful in war! relying on weak and divided counsels ! not knowing whora to trust with its adrainistration, lest he should prove a traitor ! nor with its sword, lest he should prove a coward ! raortgagcd ! sold ! to false friends at home, and bitter eneraies abroad ! yet rioting in expense and luxury ! rioting and starving ! licentious, yet enslaved ! torn by various factions, whereof not one hath the least real attachraent to its true interests ! torn by heresies and schisras, although wholly regardless of religion ! and there fore deserted by that only wisdora which is able to retrieve its affairs, that wisdora which it hath, long since, rejected, which it still ridicules ! even now, when it is her turn to laugh at its calaraity, as equally unavoidable and intole rable, and to raock when its too-well grounded fear of greater evils, than it hath ever yet endured, is corae. A new and horrible thing raay be seen araong us, the ven geance of God, and our unnatural wickedness, treading cir cularly on each other's heels ! following, and followed, so closely, that the crirae is comraitted, the judgraent exe cuted, and the crirae again repeated, alraost in the same in stant. Where, or in what is this war with the Almighty likely to end ! Behold • the whirlwind of God's wrath,' which threatens to scatter us from our country, and to ' lay waste our dwell- J.X.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 189 ing-place !' or to sweep us, with a swift destruction, from the face of the earth, to distress and anguish infinitely raore fearful ! ' Behold the whirlwind of the Lord, which is gone forth in fury, even a grievous whirlwind, which shall fall grievously on the head of the wicked, whora the Lord shall scatter as with an east wind before the eneray, and shall shew them the back, and not the face, in the day of their calamity.' In that day shall ' he thafc sitfceth in heaven, laugh ; the Lord shall have thera in derision, for in their prosperity they said, they should never be cast down ;' and, therefore, setting up for scoffers in religion, they ' took pleasure in walking after their own ungodly lusts.' There is, surely, nothing so deservedly the object of scorn, as weakness setting up for independence, and stupiditv scoff ing at wisdom. It is not, however, till the security of the simple in their sins hath slain thera, and the prosperity of fools, notwithstanding the long-suffering patience of God, hath at length brought destruction on thera, that the vanity and viieness of such wretches can be set in their own proper lights, and thoroughly exposed. Go, now, saith wisdom, and look for succour against the sword from your long-vaunted power and courage. Go now to your riches and ask thera fco bribe fche pestilence, and turn away the vial ofits poison on sorae better nation. Go now to your revels, and try if you can shut out the light, on this day of visitation, frora the exposure and punishraent of your evil deeds, your deeds of darkness. Go now to your infidel arguraents, your irreligious taunts, your atheistical blaspheraies, and see if they can corafort you under the scourge of an avenging God. Go to your associates in pro faneness, and ' now, that thou criest, let thy corapanies deliver thee ;' but ' the wind shall carry them all away ; va nity shall take thera.' You knew not the extent of your power, nor the number of your possessions, nor the bounds of your pleasures, nor the depth of your own wisdom ; can none of these deliver you ? Surely it is not possible, that one lately so very confident, can now be reduced to a con dition, so wholly helpless and abject. Wisdom, having thus scorned her scorners, and raocked at her scoffers, vouchsafes no longer to speak to them, but turning herself to others, who may profit by the example of 190 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. their raiseries, she says, then shall these unhappy con- teraners of wisdora ' call upon rae, but I will not answer.' The day of grace is past, and it is now my turn to lend a deaf ear to their cries, as they always did to mine. It is now corae to pass, that ' as I cried, and they would not hear, so when they cry I will not hear.' As, when ' I stretched out ray hand, no man regarded, so now, when they spread forth their hands, I will hide mine eyes frora thera ; yea, when fchey raake many prayers, I will nofc hear. They seek rae early,' bufc fchey shall perceive it is too late, for they shall not find rae, because, when ' I sent to them all ray servants the prophets, daily rising up early and sending thera ; yet they hearkened not unto rae, nor inclined their ear, but har dened their neck, and did worse than their fathers ;' and also, 'because they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear ofthe Lord.' No, they fled from the light because ' it reproved their evil deeds,' and affected to treat the fear of God as raean and slavish. They were too wise to learn, and too great to fear. As they ' would none of ray counsel, and despised ray reproof,' it is impossible, they should taste the blessed effect of either contentraent, for the present, and happiness for ever. On the contrary, for this their rejection of my counsels and reproofs, and for giving themselves up to the guidance of their own counsels, 'they shall eat the fruit of their own ways, and be filled with their own devices.' It is true, they have adorned the broad way downward with every plant of pleasure, and enriched it on either hand, with fruit-trees in abundance. This they bave chosen for their way, and made it an avenue of delights ; but they shall soon perceive, thafc fchese fruifcs are too bitter to be tasted, and too poisonous to be safely touched ; they shall perceive, when it shall be too late to return, that their way is only an ave nue to infaray and destruction. As they have ' plowed iniquity and sowed wickedness, they shall reap the same. They have sowed iniquity, and they shall reap vanity. These backsliders in heart shalf be filled with their own ways. Hear, O earth, behold I will bring evil upon this people, even the fruit of their thoughts, because they have not heark ened unto my words, nor to ray law,' but rejected it. They shall have enough of their own counsels, and surfeit on the produce of their own devices; but 'while the flesh of their LX.J THE SCORNER SCORNED. 191 delicate quails, after which they lusted, is yet between their teeth ere it is chewed, the wrath of the Lord shall be kin dled against thera, and he shall smite thera with a very great plague,' the plague at least, of a palate loathing, and a sto raach turning, at every pleasure, and of all the distempers, tortures, terrors, attending on a life of folly and sensuality. ' But whoso hearkeneth unfco rae, shall dwell safely, and shall be quiefc frora fear of evil. What raan is he that feareth the Lord ? him shall he teach in the way thafc he shall choose. His soul shall dwell afc ease. Surely he shall nofc be raoved for ever. He shall nofc be afraid of evil fcidings ; his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.' The portion of those who reject ray counsels, shall be vanity and vexation now, and the dread of worse hereafter. But the portion of all who lend an attentive ear to my call, and an obedient heart to ray instructions, shall be peace of mind for the present, and a well-grounded hope of happiness infinite, and glory eternal, yet to corae. Here you may perceive, is vengeance threatened, and mercy offered ; and both founded on the unalterable decrees of God, nay on the very nature of things, insomuch, that he must cease to be just, and the whole scherae of nature be inverted, infinite wisdora must degenerate into folly, and eternal truth into fallacy ; or every one of us must have rea- sop to rejoice in what is proraised, or to trerable at that which is threatened. But why do I say, threatened, to a people conscious of their own guilt, conscious of their having departed from fche counsel of wisdom, and sensible (if fchey have any sense) that the avenging hand of God is already laid upon them ? As nevertheless the present are probably ' but the beginning of sorrow,' and as a deep repentance, if it becoraes general, may avert or mitigate the greater evils yet to be apprehended ; let us neither presurae in our wickedness, nor -despair of God's compassion ; but now that he hiraself, finding his mi nisters have been either unfaithful, or unheard, hath began to preach to us by faraine and the sword, let us 'hear the rod, and who hath appointed it.' The sincere repentance of those who hear rae, will, in proportion, contribute to the re lief of the whole coraraunity by appeasing in part, the dis pleasure of Almighty God. If there had been but ten righ- 192 THE SCORNER SCORNED. [dISC. teous found in Sodora, though a large and populous city, their righteousness had saved the whole frora fire and brim stone. But although we are too few to procure by our re turn to God so great indulgence to numbers of hardened and desperate offenders, and their is now not an Abrahara araong us to obtain, by his faith and piety, so great an indulgence ; yet shall nofc each of us, if we wholly forsake our sins, pro cure salvation to hiraself, ' and save his own soul alive ? If when a land sinneth against God by trespassing grievously, and he stretcheth out his hand to break the staff of the bread thereof; or saith to the sword, go through that land, and cut off both raan and beast ; or send a pestilence into that land to pour out his fury in blood ;' if he would not spare it, ' though Noah, Daniel, and Job were in it ; yet should these good raen deliver their own souls,' at least, ' by their righteousness ;' and surely that would be sufficient to repay all the vigilance and perseverance of good life in them, and to overpay the keenest anxieties of repentance in us. Let no man presurae to say, I have, in this discourse, delivered rayself in terms too severe and damnatory. Let hira rather consult with his own conscience, and he will find perhaps that no small share of our present public calamities and fears are chargeable to the account of his particular guilt. Let him in the huraility of spirit, which ought -to result frora such a consultation, reflect on the severity wherewith infinite wisdora conderans his departure from her, and denounces vengeance on his head ; and then let hira, if he dare, censure me for too rauch harshness in re peating her words. Or if this crirainal under sentence, is still bold enough to arraign the Scriptural reproof of his own crimes, let hira consider, that God is now speaking to him by his judgraents in a louder and sharper tone. If he con siders this as he ought to do, he will think it no time to criticise the words of others, when the bolt of God is lanced at his own actions ; but will rather ' learn to hear, and fear, and do no more presumptuously,' May God, of his infinite pity, look with patience on the hardened, and corapassion on the penitent sinners ofthis hig once favourite, but now unhappy country. May he greatly sanctify all his dispensations, whether of indulgence or se verity, to the entire araendment both of our principles and LXI.J THE TRUE CHRISTIAN, &C. 193 ways; that henceforward his wisdom raay be our only guide, and his glory, the only aira of all our pursuits, through Christ Jesus, our blessed Saviour, to whora, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and do minion, now and for everraore. Amen. The Grace, &c. DISCOURSE LXI. THE TUUE CHRISTIAN IS BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE. CoL. III. 3. Yt are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. The Scriptures mention three kinds of death; the first, a separation of soul and body, which is a natural death ; the second, a separation of both soul and body frora God, which is spiritual or eternal deafch ; and the third, a separation of the soul and heart with its affections frora the world, consi dered as an allureraent to sin, which is a figurative death, and the iramediate forerunner of the true, spiritual, and eternal life. Opposite to these kinds of death, the same Scriptures frequently speak of as many sorts of life ; and set forth these kinds of death, as so different among theraselyes, and these sorts of life, as so distinct from one another, that it is plain the same raan raay be dead in the third sense, who is alive in both the forraer. This will appear from my text, and va rious other passages, hereafter to be instanced. It is this last kind of death, which St. Paul speaks to us of in ray text, when he says to all true Christians, ' Ye are dead,' dead in the opinion of a wicked world, because ye no longer, as they do, ' raake provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof; but do through the Spirit raortify the deeds of the body,' desiring, like this blessed apOstle, ' as much as in you lies, to be absent from the body, and to be -present with the Lord.' VOL. III. 0 194 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS [dISC. The whole worid, properly so called, ' lieth in wicked ness,' and through the universal corruption and guilt of mankind is subject nofc only to the first or natural death, but also to ' the second' death, or tbe eternal separation of soul and body frora God. From this worst kind of death nothing can deliver us, but the ' death unto sin,' spoken of in the text and elsewhere ; and ' a new birth unto righteous ness' through Christ Jesus our Lord. By the first we 'put off the old raan, we mortify our raerabers which are on the earth,' and ' crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts.' By the second we are ' born again of water and the spirit,' and enter on a new life, a holy and spiritual life, that 'life which is hid from' the eyes of an ignorant, undiscerning, and sinful world; but is hid and safely laid up with Christ, the author, and giver of this life, ' who is the very life itself,' and in whom every true believer lives, and lives in God, for he is, in soul, in heart, in faith, in practice, truly ' alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' In order to make the beauty, force, and use of the text raore intelligible, let us enter a little into its several parts. First, it tells the real believer, or Christian, thathe is dead, a word of infinite comfort to hira ; and of no less terror to every one who is not yet a real Christian. The first finds infinite delight in reflecting, that ' the bit terness of this death is past' with him ; the other, equal fear and anxiety of soul in considering, that he must eifcher suff'er the agonies of this death unto sin, or fearfully expect the agonies ofthat death, which is never to find an end. The first knows, and the latter ought at least to know, that every man must die either to sin, or to,God. There is no possibi lity of a middle way to be taken, although the generality of those who call themselves Christians do nothing else, during their whole lives, but attempt a middle way, if that may be called a middle way, which goes so much nearer to this world, than to the gospel, as to discover very little kindred to tl^e one, and so great a likeness to the other, that, bating a little prudence and outward decency, no difference can be perceived between the lives of Christians in general, and the lives of such as openly disavow Christianity. But, to the infinite mortification and disappointment of these com pounders between God and sin, they shall, one day, find there LXI.J BOTH DEAD AXD ALIVE. 195 are but these two ways raentioned by Christ, ' the narrow way,' and ' the broad,' and that every one is, and raust be, either a good man, or a reprobate. ' He who is not for us,' saith Christ, ' is against us.' What then is it to be dead in the sense of ray text ? It is to cease frora sin, for ' he that is dead' in this sense, ' hath,' as St. Paul assures us, ' ceased from sin,' that is, hath ' denied himself,' his worldly and fieshly self, hath subdued his stubborn and unruly passions, pride, anger, revenge ; and mortified his corrupt affections, lust, avarice, gluttony, and drunkenness. He walks no raore in obedience to these passions and affections, so far as they are inordinate, than another raan who is in his grave. Our Saviour speaks of this raan, as well as of his first disciples, when he says, they ' are n»t ofthis world as I am not ofthis world ;' and the men ofthis world, for once agree ing to the words of Christ, say of him ; ' He is no more like one of this world's people, than if he had just dropped from the moon. It is a poor dead creature. He hath neither life nor spirit in him. One sel dom raeets him at the public diversions. He raakes no figure in the world. After all, he raust have a good stock of vanity to countenance his contempt of the world in the midst of that universal conterapt, wherewith he is repaid. As his life is a haughty censure on all raankind, a very fevv only, as singular and precise as hiraself, excepted, so the practice ofa world is surely a sufficient censure on his. Were it possible for such a wretch to have friends, his whimsical indifference about wealth, and his equally ridicu lous squeamiishness of conscience in regard to justice, oaths, and the like, would raake hira wholly incapjible of serving them. On a jury, or before a court as witnesses, the men of this starap are always too nice and punctilious to give their souls for one another, as we do ; and therefore the very best of them can neither be nor have a friend, but is cut out only for insignificance and obscurity ; and lies like a mass of lead afc fche foofc of that ladder, on which others mount to titles and honours. And as to business, he is over run with such scruples, is so mere a slave to superstition, which he calls religion, stands so much on cereraony with heaven, and is, in short, so great a fool in regard to the o 2 196 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS [dISC. world, that one inight as well expect to see a child of three years old bustling at the bar, or wrangling on the exchange, or scheraing and managing an election. For these reasons he is rarely heard of in fche way of business ; and never, as a thorough-going raan. In the way of pleasure he is more rarely to be traced. Were he not absolutely dead, surely -his bottle would soraetimes be seen, or his mistress heard of. He hath nothing to do in this world, and is fit only to be laid aside, as a creature of no significance to it.' Just so he thinks of himself, and takes fchis for the highest encomium the world is capable of bestowing on hira, as fche only allurement to vanity, wherewith it is able to terapt him. But that he may not hear it, like one really dead to the world, he buries, he hides himself; and where? Why, ' with Christ in God,' according to the words in ray text. He retires, as much as in him lies, infco the obscurity of a life, wholly different frora the rest of the world. He gives hiraself dp to secrefc prayer, and to acts of charifcy as secret. In fche depfchs of solifcary meditafcion he labours fco wean his heart from a vain and vexatious world, and to turn it with all its affections to God. If he throws an eye on the world, it is only to study the uncertainty and deceitfulness ofall its ways. If he looks into himself, it is to examine, with more severity than raalice employs on the faults of others, the corruption and viieness ofhis own nature. Frora objects of conteraplation so very uncorafortable and unpleasing, it is the great relief and refreshraent of his soul, to lift his thoughts to the one infinitely good ; but not till he hath, in sorae tolerable degree, subdued his fleshly desires, banished the world frora his esteem, and by both raised his soul to a taste for higher and better things, and to some hope of favour in the sight of God through Christ Jesus his inter cessor. This, you see, is not the employraent or pursuit 'of the world, nor is this the way to corae at riches, honours, power, or pleasure. No, these raust be hunted after, if hunted after at all, by quite other arts, than prayer, alrasgiving, and re ligious raeditation, which are the proper raethods only of laying up 'those treasures, which neither moth nor worra can fcbrrupt, nor thief break through and steal;' of arriving at LXI.J BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE. 197 ' those honours and that power,' which are sought for ' by a patient continuance in well doing;' and of enjoying 'those rivers of pleasure which are at the right hand of God for evermore.' The good Christian aims his life at a future world ; and therefore it is no wonder he should seera to live and act as if he were out ofthis world. He airas his life at ends and purposes invisible to the unregenerate ; and fchere- fore that life itself is hid frora their eyes. As the life of this man is hid from thafc world, fco which he is dead, so his life, his new life, is fed and raainfcained by food, equally unknown fco the irreligious world, for ' the Lord giveth hira to eat of the hidden raanna,' and guides the course ofhis life by ' the hidden wisdom, which God ordained be fore the world unto our glory. This wisdora which is fool ishness to the Greeks and all other raen ofthis vvorld, because they pursue such ends as it points not at, and think all other ends insignificant, directs the true Christian to the one only end worth pursuing; and therefore hidden as it is frora the ' eyes of a self-blinded world, is the only wisdora. You raay now see how, and in what sense it is, that he who is dead to the world and to sin, is buried, or hid, in a great raeasure, frora that world, and almost entirely from its praise and esteem. The artful, the covetous, the ambitious, the lawless, triumph on the stage of this world, and carry all before them, while the good are shuffled out of fche way, and pushed aside, as sfcrangers and foreigners, who have nofching fco do here ; so fcrue is fche saying of Solomon, ' when fche wicked rise a man is hidden. The world calls hira a living raan, whora ifc sees exercising the comraon functions of life, that is, using his eyes, ears, palate, storaach, with all his affections and passions, just as other men are wont to do. It pronounces hira alive, whom it sees moving, as pleasure and interest draw ; or moved, as custom and fear of worldly power push hira backward, or forward. The world hath no other notion of life, but this ; and therefore looks on the good Christian as dead, who does not appear to see the pomps, nor to hear the enchanfcmenfcs, nor fco tasfce th^ pleasures, nor to regulate his raotions by the fashions, or in the ways, of this world. If such a one is soraetimes seen in the world, he serves' for nothing else, but a wonder and a gazing-stock to the rest 198 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS [dISC. of mankind. Nay, as his life is wholly spiritual, he walks about like the ghost of what be was, before he departed the life of sin, the reproach, the aversion, the terror, of all who meet him. But, hke other apparitions, he is so seldom seen in the world, is so hidden from the eyes of other men, that it at length becomes doubtful with sorae, whether there is really any such being or not. But, how, where, or with whom, is he hid? Can such goodness be lost to God or itself? Is a character so raodest, and so exceedingly beautiful, to be seen no more ? No, if he is hid, he is only hid as the ' gospel itself is, to them that are lost ;' in whom ' the God of this world hath blinded the rainds of thera vi'hich believe not, lest the light of the glorious gos pel of Christ, who is the iraage of God, should shine unto thera.' These are too blind to see him, or to look into his hiding place. All other true believers, because they themselves are there also, know, that his ' life is hid with Christ, who knows his own sheep, and is known ofhis.' But the ' world who hath not known his father,' knows neither him nor his sheep ; and therefore both are said in the text to be hid, as dead in the opinion of the world, because removed out of their sight. Long before Christ was born, it was prophesied of him, that he should ' have no forra nor comeliness,' and that raen, when they saw hira, ' should see no beauty in him, that they should desire him ;' that he should ' be despised and rejected of raen, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,' and that the raen of this world should ' hide as it were their faces from hira.' We may now turn the words of this prophecy into a history, and write it as matter of fact, not only con cerning his person, but his gospel also ; and the historian, as well as the prophet, raay ask, ' who hath believed his re port? and to whora is the arra of the Lord revealed?' As there was nofching in his person or countenance, and as little in his dress and attendance, to strike the rainds of the worldly with any extraordinary degree of love or veneration ; so neither is there in his doctrine or gospel. A wonderful plainness and siraplicity, resembling those ofhis personal appearance, run through the whole, and hide the majesty and power of his religion from every eye that is affected only with porap and show. It is by the eye of LXI.J BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE. 199 faith alone, and of the Holy Ghost, who inspires that faith, that the otherwise inconceivable grandeur of the divine wisdom, power, and goodness, is discovered under a dress so plain and humble, and infinitely recommended by that dress to the admiration of a truly judicious and well disposed mind. But farther, as there" is nothing here to be relished by a false taste, so there is every thing to offend a proud and corrupt heart. Here is a suffering king to be served ; and a crucified God to be adored. How does this shock his faith, who hath made an idol of his own understanding, or who considers nothing as great, but worldly porap and power? Here denying ourselves, mortifying the deeds of the flesh, subduing our inordinate inclinations, bridling even such as are innocent, and dying to sin and the world ; are made ab solutely necessary to the new life ofa Christian. How does it disgust and offend the world to have almost all methods, both of raaking and enjoying fortunes, condemned and for bidden, as wicked, in pain of eternal daranation ! Now, is it any wonder, the world should hide as it were its face, should turn away its attention, and lock up its heart, frora such a teacher, and such doctrine ? Here are the reasons, the true and real reasons, why Christ, and all that are firraly united to him, are said to be hid together from the eyes of a vain and sinful world ; and why it is af firmed, that ' the God of this world,' or the devil, ' hath blinded the eyes of them who believe not, lest the glorious gospel of Christ should shine unto thera.' The true Chris tian sees, and is seen, by that light alone ; and they there fore who are blind to that sort of light, cannot possibly see him. They are as deaf too to that sound and voice of the gospel, wherein the real Christian speaks, and is spoken to. ' He that is of God heareth God's words :' they fcherefore hear fchem not, 'because they are not of God.' So neither this way can these men perceive or apprehend the true Christian. In this blessed sanctuary, in the bosom of Christ himself, and in a life wholly governed by the gospel or religion of Jesus, is every real Christian hid from the observation of the world, to whom his life is a mystery, never to be ac counted for, or fathomed ; and not only hid, but guarded 200 THE TUUL CHRISTIAN IS [dISC. and defended on all sides against all the allurements, against all the vanity and vexation that is under the sun. From hence he looks not down into the world, but to laugh atits follies, or to pity its miseries. ' The armour of God' sur rounds hira. ' The helmet of salvafcion' guards his under standing. ' The breast-plate of righteousness' arms his heart. ° The shield of faith' defends him against all attacks. And with'the svv'ord of the spirit, which is the word of God,' he cuts in sunder, and strikes down all opposers. If the old serpent assaults him, he rouses up his courage with these vvords of God, 'resist the devil, and hewill flee from you.' If his carnal desires do but begin to undermine his temper ance or chastity, he recollects with a trembling heart, the admonitions of God, ' the minding ofthe flesh is death; ye shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh.' If the world wifch its custoras and fashions bears in upon hira, he hears God calling to him from within bis own breast, and saying, 'be not conforraed to this world.' And if all this is not enough, he hafch still an infinitely corafortable assurance in reserve, that the presence of Christ, who hath proraised ' to dwell in him, and to be with hira to the end of fche world, and the grace ofhis Holy Spirit, shall be sufficienfc for him.' As there is little difference befcween dying fco the world, and living in Christ ; between ' the death unto sin,' and ' the new birth unto righteousness,' inasmuch as both are covenanted for in the sarae baptism, and take place in every true Christian at the sarae time, so I have treated of them as nearly the sarae thing. All the difference consists in this, that when we die, in the sense of ray text, we ' cease to do evil,' and hate it; and when we begin to live in that sense, ' we learn to do good,' and to love it. He who does the former on Christian principles, can hardly stop there, but is under a sort of moral necessity of proceeding farther, and performing fche latter. Whosoever on the footing ofChris- tian faith, hath frorn his soul renounced the world, and emptied his heart of all its vanities and temptations, hath done it only that he may open his heart to God, and fco the love of thafc which is pleasing in the sight of God. At fche same time that he ' removed his afiections from things on the earth, he set them,' according to the precept immediately preceding ray text, ' on things above.' He died to sin and LXI.J BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE. 201 the world, only, that his life raight be hid withChrist ; fchafc his hearfc mighfc be fchere purified by the gospel, and forti fied by the grace of God ; and that he raight take sanctuary in the bosom of his Redeemer, from all fche otherwise irre- sisfcable tempfcations, and all fche ofcherwise unavoidable mi series to which he lay exposed before, when he was a raan ofthis world. In this high and comfortable sense ifc is, that he who is dead to the world, is hid with Christ. Thus it is that the Christian diamond lies concealed and enclosed in ' the rock of his salvation,' frora whence he shall, in God's appointed fcirae, shine forth in all the lustre of hira, who is ' the way, the truth, and the life,' who is ' the light of the world.' By this light of all who truly live in Christ, the hypocritical pretender to Christianity is exposed in his true colours, and beheld as the carcase of a dead man, reanimated only by a fiend ; as ' a dark and black spot in the feasts of charity ; as a cloud without water carried about by winds ; as a tree whose fruit withereth, twice dead, plucked by up the roots ; as a raging wave of the sea, foaraing out its own sharae ; and as a wandering star, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.' But if the wicked are so exposed by this light, you will ask, how can he that is with Christ be hid in it? Can that which is in the light be hid ? Yes, ' God is light,' and he who is hid with Christ, ' is hid in God ;' hid from a blind and sensual world, which although this glorious ' light hath shined in darkness,' where all other lights are most easily perceived, ' yet coraprehendeth ifc nofc.' By this day-light ofthe gospel the moles and bats of infidelity can see no thing; and in this light, whicii is too strong for the eyes of the world, and which, therefore, no raan, who is yefc in the world, • can approach unto, wherein he dwelleth who hath iraraortality (to v/hora be honour and power everlasting),' dv/elleth also the good Christian ; for, ' thus saith the High and lofty one, that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, I dwell in the high and holy place,, with him also thatis ofa contrite and humble spirit, torevive the spirit of the humble, •and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.' Hither, into this unapproachable light, no carnal eye can follow him who 202 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS [dISC. lives in God, and who is ' raade one with Christ, as he is one with the Father.' But hid as he is, now in this present tirae of suffering, while he stoops under tbe cross of Christ, and the re proaches that fall on his raaster fall also on him ; be knows a day is coming, when, according to the verse immediately following ray text, • Christ, who is his life, shall appear,' and fchen shall this good Christian, and all that belong to Christ, appear with hira also in glory. Behold the wonderful change of things! This man, so despicable in the esteem of the world, that few or none thought hira worth their notice ; this Lazarus, who was ' clothed in rags,' who had only dogs for physicians, who lay like a contemptible log at the gates of the wealthy, and ' longed for the crumbs that fell from tbeir tables ;' is now coraforted in the ' bosom of Abraham ;' while the great ones of this world, in whose eyes he was no better than the dirt they trod on, " are torraented in the fire which cannot be quenched.' They had their world, and he hath his. When the men of this world see this (and see it they raust) ' they shall be troubled,' as we are told inthe bookof wisdoin, ' with terrible fear, and shall be araazed at the strangeness of his salvation, so far beyond all that they looked for. And they, too late repenting, and grieving for anguish of spirit, shall say within theraselves ,- this is he whom we had some tirae in derision, and a proverb of re proach. We fools accounted his life raadness, and his end to be without honour. How is he nurabered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints. Therefore have we erred from the way of truth, and the light of righ teousness hath not shined unto us, and the sun of righteous ness rose not upon us. We wearied ourselves in the way of wickedness and destruction ; yea, we have gone through deserts, where there lay no way; but, as for the way ofthe Lord, we have not known it. What hath pride profited us? Or what good hath riches with our vaunting brought us ? The hope of the ungodly is like dust that is blown away by the wind ; but the righteous live for evermore : their re ward also is with the Lord, and the care of them is with the most High. LXI.J THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS 203 While health, prosperity, and riches last, they harden the heart and stiffen fche neck of every worldly-minded raan ; and so long ' the things of the spirit,' or of God, ' are fool ishness unto hira. But as soon as these fail, we see, even he is forced to own, that ' the wisdom ofthis world,' which was always ' foolishness Avith God,' is really foolishness in itself, and downright destruction to him that trusted in it. Let us, ray br£thren in Christ, who are or ought to ' be, dead to the world, and hid frora it with Christ in God,' now with all our hearts, as well as understandings, resolve to im prove on ' the hidden man of the heart, and to seek only the wisdora that is from above, which is first pure, then peace able, gentle, and easy to be^ntreated, full of raercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy ;' and let us also with heart and understanding, utterly renounce the wisdora of this world, that wisdora which is not from above, but is ' earthly, sensual, develish.' That it is equally necessary to our happiness, that we should do both, may be as safely left to the vote of sober reason and universal expe rience, as to the word of God. Reason and experience make it a clear point, that nothing but vanity and vexation here, with infaray and disgrace hereafter, if there is to be an here after, can be hoped for from the wisdom of this world. On the other hand, God's word makes the doctrine af firmed in my text, absolutely necessary to salvation. 'We must die to the flesh and the world, that we may not be con demned with the world.' Now this death consists in loving the world no longer, but rather hating it as the enemy of' God. ' Love not the world,' saith St. John, ' neither the things that are in the world ;' for as St. Jaraes assures us, ' the friendship of the world is enmity with God ; whosoever, therefore, will be a friend to the world, is the enemy of God.' This hating the world is that death, St. Paul tells us, we pass through in baptism, when we ' put off the old raan. How shall we,' saith he, ' that are dead to sin, live any longer therein ? Know ye not that so raany of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death ? Our old raan is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin, for he that is dead is freed from sin.' You noW_.see plainly the necessity of this death to the 204 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN IS [tslSC. flesh, to the world, and to sin ; and that you cannot possibly live fco Christ, without first dying fco fchem all. You will quickly see, that it is as necessary to be born again, in order to be saved ? Hear the words of Christ to Nicodemus, ' verily, verily, I say unto you, except a man be born again of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.' Such is the necessity of entering upon a new life in order to be saved ; and a new life is nothing else but this, an ab stinence frora sin, and a continual practice ofthe duties re quired by the gospel. ' Whosoever,' saith St. John, ' is born of God, doth not corarait sin. Whosoever is born of God, overcoraeth the world.' ' If any man be in Christ,' saith St. Paul, ' he is a new creature. They, therefore, which live, should" not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for thera.' If they breathe the spirit of the new life, bow can they, do otherwise than live unto hira, with whora their lives are incorporated and hid ? Are they not one living body with Christ, their head? Or can they have any other life, but the very life, of that head ? If, as Christ hiraself saith, ' he hath raade all things new,' surely every one who is really united fco hira, and becorae a true raember of his body, raust have 'put off the old man, and must be renewed in the spirit of his raind, or the inward raan, day by day.' Other things are yet as they were ; or are become new in regard to their new regenerated, or new-created pos sessor; or have perished; the raerabers of Christ only, that is, they who are. regenerated and converted frora this world, and their sins, they only are raade new by a change of nature. You by this time raay have seen whafc it is ' to be dead unto sin, but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' Ycu raay have seen also the necessity of the former in order to the latter. It only remains, that you consider, with all possible attention both of understanding and heart, thene cessity of this latter, or the life in God, in order to your eternal peace and happiness. Fear not. The change, recommended to you by the word of God, consists not so much in the pangs of dying, as in the pleasure of a revival into your only real and natural life. Sin is the only death ; and goodness, the only life. LXI.J BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE. 205 Hate this death, love this life; and then your change will afford infinitely more joy to your spiritual, than pain to your fleshly nature. But whatsoever degree of pain ifc shall be, that may at tend your dying to a world, on which you have foolishly, but habitually fixed your heart, let it be the wisdora of your now sounder thoughts, cheerfully fco subrait fco the revealed appointment of your Maker, and the coinmon law of his creation. All the creafcures are subjecfc to change. God only is irarautable. How can you pretend to this distinguishing- attribute ofyour Creator? Behold ! the heavens are subject to perpetual revolutions, and the earth to annual changes of seasons, light, and darkness, heat, and cold, pursuing eacli other in regular, but swift successions. The vegetable world, conforming to the same law, revives or withers, puts on, or puts off its attire, at the call of nature. In like man ner, the aniraal creation undergoes a variety of changes pe culiar to itself. One casts its old hair, another its skin or shell, another molts its feathers ; and all of them, as if cre ated anew, corae forth in fresh liveries. Now, none of these alterations are brought about in them without a considerable degree of uneasiness and pain. The old nature in thera sickening, and in sorae sense dying, is repaired and revived, as it were into anew. It is, on good grounds, believed, that the very angels make a progress, and arrive not at the perfection of their na tures, or of their glory, but by certain changes and degrees ; who can tell what struggles their virtue was tried with, be fore they were entrusted with fche thrones and principalities, ascribed fco fchera in the holy Scriptures ? And who art thou, O raan, so frail, so iraperfect, and even so loaded with corruption and sin, that thou shouldest hope to be good without a change ; or happy, without being- good ? Know, that your own nature hath made this impos sible, and God hath decreed the contrary, for, ' without ho liness no raan shall see the Lord ; nor without keeping his commandments, shall any man enter into life.' If therefore, for a time, the very pains of hell should be the price of so great-and necessary a change ; you could in nothing shew yourself so wise, as in courting and inviting them with in- 206 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN, &C. [dISC. finitely more earnestness, than you ever did, the keenest pleasures of sense. But, as I have already intimated, the pain of dying to a world, so vain, so deceitful, so vexatious, cannot be very great to a sensible and thinking soul, that knows it, as hav ing already smarted in it, and begins to be disgusted with it. Besides, whatsoever of bifcfcerness may be tasted in the administration, or of pain felt in the operation, of the spi ritual physic ; the whole is greatly abated in this, as in bo dily disorders, by the sure and certain hope of recovery, nay, by the iraraediate sense of a recovery, actually begun from the first raoraent of the application. Where is the great matter in forsaking a world, of which we are perpetually, and with infinite reason, complaining, and that soon will forsake us ? In the continual disap pointment of our hopes, or crossing of our scheraes, or im pairing of our fortunes, or thwarting our pleasures, or loss of our friends, do we not 'die daily?' die to the world, and the things of it, against our wills ? And shall it seem too much, to die once voluntarily and totally for our souls, for heaven, and for God? How shocking to nature would it be, to see the dead and the living interraixed, forraing one society, and con versing together! But how much raore shocking to the eye of faith, to behold those who by their deeds are known to be dead to God, blended with his true and living people, merely on the strength of an outward profession ; and calling themselves the merabers of Christ, the children of God, and heirs of eternal life, when all the tirae, it is as evident, as the light of God's word, compared with their crimes, can make it, that they are only fche servants of sin, the children of the devil, and heirs of no other portion, but that which is re served for the hypocrites ? evident, that in the face of day, they walk in darkness ; and in the house, at the table, and even in the narae of God, promote the interest, and give vogue to the service, of his enemy ; and the more for pro fessing Christianity. Not less shocking would it be, were it not so coinmon, to see the same man, religious, and atheistical; virtuous, and vicious, by turns ; to-day, travelling in the narrow way, and to-morrow, in the broad ; but there slowly dragged, and LXII. J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 207 here driving at full speed ; now dying to sin, and then, to God ; and consequently walking in the sight of sound rea son, the frightful spectre of both worlds, rather than the real inhabitant of either. Nature, reason. Scripture, all teach us to abhor such spectacles. How then coraes it, that we are so little startled at feeling, what we are so powerfully instructed to tremble at the sight of? Can the sarae thing that is so hideous in principle, be ever adraitted, be even courted in practice ? Can a rational creature, a creature, that fears death more than every thing else, voluntarily give himself up to innumerable deaths, to a succession of agonies, which cannot possibly, after all, end in any thing but eternal death ; rather than to that one death, which he knows, is the only gate to everlasting life ? True are thy words, O blessed Redeeraer, ' he that would save his life,' his sinful life, ' shall lose it, and he that will lose his life for thy sake, shall find it,' shall surely find it, hidden with thee in God. Teach us, O infinite truth and wisdora, a right sense of this thy declaration, so raysterious to a blinded world ; and ever powerfully intercede for us with the Father, to whom, in the unity of the ever blessed Trinity, be all raight, ma jesty, dignity, and dorainion, now and for everraore. Amen. The Grace of our Lord, &c. DISCOURSE LXII. THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. Psalm xix. 14. Let the words of my mouth,, and the meditation of my heart he alway ac ceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer. This Psalra, which ends with my text, hath been justly esteemed one of the noblest strains both of poetry and devo tion, that have ever been eraployed to raise the thoughts of the religious, and to carry them up to God. Every reader. 208 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [dISC. who but barely understands the words, confesses its force by the warmth it kindles in his hearfc, if he is a man of piety, or afc leasfc by fche wings ifc gives to his imagination, if he hath any taste for the high and great in what he peruses. But the psalm, if closely examined by the judicious, and thoroughly understood, discovers soinewhat, beyond this, inconceivably glorious and divine. He who reads it with any portion of the spirit tbat penned it, hears the voice of God, speaking from heaven, and calling up his soul to the adoration of infinite wisdom, goodness, and power, dis played in the visible heavens. He hears the works of God preaching fchese afctributes of their Creator in a language loud enough to be heard by the whole world. He sees the sun in particular, not only making his glorious circuit in the skies, and proclairaing as he goes, in an byran clothed with light instead of words, fche praises of his greafc original ; but sees hira aio poetically introduced in the psalra as a simili tude for the yet brighter sun of ' God's law' or word, ' which enlighteneth fche eyes' of the mind, * giving wisdom to the siraple, converting the soul, rejoicing the heart,' and in all these pouring on the raind that religious wisdom and warmth, which are here poetically connected with, and represented by, the light and heat which fall from the sun on our bodies. After this, the sacred poet represents hiraself to the un derstanding reader, as doubly struck with the awful voice of God, both natural and revealed, as trerabling under the re proof of nature and Scripture at once, as overwhelmed with a sense of his own infirmities and sins, and crying out, ' who can understand his errors ? Cleanse thou me from my se cret faults. Keep back thy servant from presuraptuous sins ; let thera not bave dominion over me ; then shall I be upright and innocent frora the great transgression.' Surely, if any form or act of devotion raight hope for acceptance, purely on account ofits excellence, it was this. Yet behold! the blessed psalmist, no less lowly in hiraself, than exalted as to the raatter and spirit of his byran, and fully sensible, that no address to God, howsoever excellent in itself, nor even howsoever ardently offered up, can entitie the sinful to a favourable hearing, throws hiinself on the mercy of his Maker, and on tiie merits of hjs Saviour, cry ing out in the humble language of my text, ' let the words tXII.J THE TITINKER SHALJL JiE SAVED, 209 of my mouth, and the meditation of ray heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and ray Redeemer ;' that is, O Almighty Ruler of the world, the rock of my salvation, who redeeraest me frora sin and all its dreadful effects, hear vvith pity even the prayers of thy unworthy creature ; and, while I consider myself as nothing in the midst of thy other works, or as convicted of sin by the purity of thy law, have mercyupon rae. and hear the words of myraouth; have raercy upon me, and accept the raeditation of ray heart, In this spirit of adrairation ought we to meditate on the works and word of God, and in this spirit of huraility and contrition on the error of our own ways. And thus in dust and ashes ought we to implore pity for our highest raptures of devotion, and forgiveness for the most sanctified thoughts of our hearts,. Forwho are we ? Or what are our devotions, that we should presume on a more gracious bearing, than he who offered up the incense of a heart, kindled into love and piety by the Spirit of God himself? But as he trusted in the Lord his strength and his Redeemer, so should we, who have the same Redeemer, the sarae ' advocate with the Fa^ ther, Jesus Christ the righteous, who is the propitiation for our sins, and who is touched with the feeling of our infirmi ties ; through whom,' after * ordering our words aright' bcr fore God, -' we may come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and grace to help in tirae of need,' But so far as our meditations, and our prayers proceeding from those meditations, may be rendered accpptable in the sight of God, by our own endeavours, we ought to know, that we are lost to (Jod and ourselves for ever, if we do not meditate with all the strength of our minds, and all the arr dour ofour hearts, on the subjects that engaged the meditar tions of the royal psalmist, namely, on the works and word of God, and on the state of our own souls. Without thinking deeply, keenly, and indeed almost continually on the works and word of God, we shall never know how to fear ^nd love, nor consequently how to obey God. as wp ought to do, Nor without thinking in like manner on the state of our souls, shall we ever be able rightly to judge of what we are doing, which way we are going, or whereii> the course of life we a.r§ leading, is likely to end. But before we corae to be particular on these important VOJ.. JU. P 210 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [diSC. subjects of meditation, it willbe necessary to say something on that of raeditafcion itself, that we may set ourselves, with' understandings duly awakened, and hearts strongly engaged, fco a work wherein we are infinifcely interested. In the nature of things, as sorted by their Maker into kinds or classes, a man is distinguished from a beast merely by the faculty of reason; but in the eye of true wisdora and religion, he is distinguished only by the use of his reason. In philosophy, that aniraal is called a beast, which cannot reason ; but in religion, that is rightly called a beast, which does not reason, that is, which does not meditate in order to judge, and judge in orderto choose, and choose in order t6 be happy. We have bodies, appetites, affections, and pas sions, in common with the brute creation. But it is only by our power of meditating and reasoning, thatwe are enabled to know God and his will, to know wherein consists the main of our happiness, and how it is to be pursued. By this power we can govern ourselves, and conduct our affairs. By this power, duly exercised, we can weigh the objects or views, which presenfc theraselves to the judgraent, one against the other, and find out which of them is best entitled to ouf choice, especially if the difference is very great, and more especially still, if it is infinitely great. In this consists the present advantage of a man above a beast, which can do none of these things, but is forced to follow the call of appetite, even into the snare that is laid for his life. If this is a true and just distinction, we shall be forced to call him a beast, although ever so exactly huraan in his outward figure, who either shews no power of choosing his ends and purposes ; or suffers sense, appetite, and passion, instead of reason, to choose for him a low and raoraentary, before a high and lasting enjoyraent; to choose the known occasion of his own raisery, rather than the known occa sion of his own happiness. Nay, and if an infinite good and evil have been ever set before him, and he chooses, the evil, we raust pronounce hira raore foolish than a beast, which can have no notion of either,- and consequently can by no act of its own incur the latter, or obtain fche former. Is he not worse fchan a brufce, who for a dish, a bottie, a strurapet, or sorae pieces of ill-gotten raetal, forfeits heaven? The winged brute runs into the snare, and the finned LXri.J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 211 brute into the net, because he knows not that it is for his life. But the huraan brute swallows the bait, though he knows it is for his soul. Man is by nature a thinking being, but is often pro nounced thoughtless, not because he ceases to think, or loses the power of thinking, but because he is judged to exercise this power iraproperly, that is, on useless or hurtful subjects, or because he thinks too much on subjects of little concern ment, and too slightly on such as are of far greater moraent to him. Strictly speaking, it is not want of thought that fills the world with so rauch wickedness and raisery, no, nor with so rauch folly. There is no keener thinker than he who is enslaved to the raoraentary pleasures of the flesh, or the trifling profits of the world. Even the fool, who stupidly says in his heart, there is no God, says it only after having found out by a great deal of reflection, that the being of a God necessarily infers the raisery of a wretch, so lost to goodness. And is he not a fool, 'who so thinks, plods, and schemes his life, as to give the lie to all nature, and to have nothing at the last to comfort hira in the midst of dark pro spects and fearful expectations, but a weak wish to perish for ever ? What a reproach is it to the human understanding and heart, that while the author of all good, his works of crea tion and providence, and the interests of the soul, draw but a few, and those but rarely, to cold and almost useless me ditations ; the author of evil, and the means of making us now and for ever unhappy,- employ all the rest of mankind in such meditations, as rack their understandings to the ut most sfcrefcch of fchought, and steep every thought in gall. With what force does one meditate on the object of his lust ; another, on that of his avarice ; and a third, on that of his am bition ! How keenly is this raan set a thinking by envy^ and that by malice and revenge ! . How artful are their schemes ! How vehement tbeir pursuits ! And why all this waste of thought, but for purposes as foolish, as they are wicked ? Found by universal experience, in continual disappointments and vexations, to be as foolish, as they are pronounced by the severe remorses of conscience to be wicked ? i What I have here said of those who give up their under^ standings entirely to folly and misery, is, in too great a p2 212 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [DISC. measure, true of the very religious themselves, who give but half their vthoughts to God. Were religion attended to by the better sort of men with any thing like that close ap plication of thought, which even they bestow on this worid, each of them would be almost a Soloraon in sacred wisdom, a Paul in piety, and only a littie lower than an angel in dig nity and happiness, e'er his removal hence. Did not experience put ifc beyond all quesfcion, it could never be believed, that a rational being, with his eyes open, and in all the vigour of thought, should almost universally prefer trifles to things of moraent, evil to good, and the thinest appearances, to the raost visible, the most glorious realities^, that he should trust to prospects, ever found empty, and delusive in the pursuit, and vexatious in the end; thafc from fche prospecfcs sefc before him by religion, and for sorae tirae urged on hira by faith and reason, he should wilfully turn away his attention, insorauch that as he would not think of these at first, so he could not think of thera at length ; and that therefore, with all his reach of thought, with all his cunning, scheraing, and refining, he hath no other enjoyments, nor ever can have, than those of a beast, lives the life of a beast, wishes for the death ofa beast, and, for ought appears, really desires no pre-eminence above a beast. If everlasting happiness and misery are set before us by the express word of God himself, how is it possible we should not make them the continual subjects of meditation? Or if the horrors of eternal vengeance are too dreadfully in supportable to minds so raiserably weak as ours ; why at least do we not raeditate on the happiness, on the life, im mortality, and glory, offered ? Why do we not taste and see, how good the Lord is ? What ! not so much as take a taste of his goodness ! not so much as turn and behold the infinite patience of God, in all he suffers at our hands, and the inconceivable happiness he notwifchstanding still invites us to! why is the deaf ear ofthe adder given to the ministers of his word ? why are his sabbaths kept by men, no other wise, than as a sabbath of horses, merely by resting from labour? why, purely to avoid the trouble of self-examination, are his sacraments neglected or attended to, as littie better than outward ceremonies, or burdensome formalities ? How LXII. J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 213 can you be so lost to thought, as to absent yourselves frora the place where Christ hath proraised to raeet you, to be in the midst of you, to receive and enforce your petitions, with the Father, to feed you with the food of everlasting life ? Or coming hither, how can you babble those petitions to God, as all do, who give not their minds to what they them selves are saying ? Or how can you sink the psalms, the lessons, the sermons, the word of God, into so much idle babbling in regard to yourselves, wlio do not attend to them ? what! are you come hither, impiously to turn, by a con temptuous inattention, all you say to God, and all God saith to you, into senseless sounds and erapty gibberish ? Can you call the word of God your rule of faith and practice, and not meditate thereon ? Can you call yourself the creature of God, and not meditate on your Maker? Can you believe yourself to be redeemed from infinite misery, and entitled to endless glory, by the gospel and blood of Christ, and not meditate on both with all your understand ing and heart ? While Christ your head sweats blood, and agonizes anew, at a fresh crucifixion by your sins, can you his member be asleep, and feel no part of the pain, like a mortified lirab, fit only to be cut off? Can you say, the Holy Ghost is your comforter, and his assistance absolutely necessary to your faith and reformation, if you do not by meditation open your mind to the light, and soften your heart to the warmth of his grace ? Sorry I am to say it, my brethren, but I ara not sure, that, even in the raidst of this earnest endeavour to rouse you, your thoughts are not a wool-gathering araong the brakes and brambles of a vain and perplexing world. How dared you to join with rae in the prayer of David, that your raeditations may be acceptable in the sight of God, your strength and your Redeemer, when, behold ! you do not meditate at all, or but with half your attention ? What are you about? What are you thinking of this instant? Christ is here, and here are your bodies too ; but where are your souls ? Are they wandering after your fleshly desires ? Are they rambling after your worldly schemes or posses sions ? Are they dancing attendance on your wild iraagi nations ? Awake ; call in your thoughts ; consider Christ is present. What! shall his minister so loudly call, and 214 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [dISC. call in vain on you to attend your God and Saviour ? Hovv shall I disperse the darkness from about your minds ? How pierce the callus that benumbs your hearts ? In the name of wonder ! why is every call of worldly business, though ever so disagreeable, and every amuse ment, though ever so trifling, industriously sought for, as preservatives against all those necessary, all those sweet re flections, wherein our good God purposes to engage us on his works, his word, and our own souls? As these are questions whicii reason can never answer,' they turn to reproaches, which nothing but the madness of our passions will ever atterapt to refute. Let us soberly consider them as such ; and having, for a time, banished all thoughts of this world, and all sensual desires, from the mind, that the soul raay neither be terapted from without, nor damped from within, lefc us accorapany David in his devoufc approaches to God. In the first place, let us begin with hira to read the glory of the good, the wise, the powerful Maker in his works. For this purpose, high and greafc as ifc is, we stand in no need of philosophical refineraents and researches, of glasses or raatheraatical instruraents, those artificial aids for the eyes of a superannuated understanding and piety. In this magnificent volume of the creation we have suns, stars, and worlds, for characters, too large and legible to be misunderstood, at least by hira who knows already, that all things owe their being to a first cause. If, convinced of this, he desires to conceive, as far as so bounded a mind is capable of it, the grandeur of that cause, which gave birth to all things, let him cast his eyes upward, and he will quickly perceive, in how exalted a style ' the heavens de clare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handy work.' Let him listen with the ears of his understanding, and he will hear, ' day unto day, uttering speech, and night unto night, shewing knowledge,' in an universal language, at once understood by the souls, and felt in the hearts, of every truly rational creature ; he will hear • the voice' of these great aposties ' going out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world,' and loudly proclaiming. as they go, the praises of that Almighty Being, who, through all ages, hath so guided all the heavenly bodies, although LXII.J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 215 inconceivably rapid in their motions, that they have never erred an hair's breadth frora the line, nor a moment from the time, prescribed for their courses. And, if he is one of those who have sense enough to admire an object, not for its novelty, but its grandeur, how will the sun, great aud illustrious, far above all other visible objects, raise his conceptions of the Divine Majesty and power that made it, when he sees ifc 'as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,' all clothed in robes, too daz zling to be steadily beheld, 'and rejoicing as a strong man to run' his amazing ' race from one end of heaven to the other,' darting his beams through an unmeasurable extent of space, and giving warrath, light, life, and, as the literal bridegrooni ofthis nether world, fertility, lo all he touches! Here the conteraplative soul, transported, but not de tained, with the object before it, will naturally cry out, how great art thou, at whose creating word this prodigious mass of fire and light started into being, and from whose alraighty hand it issued in all its strength and glory ! Nay, what raust be the power of that hand, which hath scattered the heavens, as it were, with a sand of suns, to distances inconceivable ! And if this material light which we behold with our fleshly eyes, is so very bright, what must that unapproach able light be, whereof thy own glorious garments are formed, to which this of the sun is but darkness ! I see, I see a ray of it, O sun of the soul ! ' in thy word,' in thy religion ' or law, which is perfect, converting the soul ; in thy testi mony, which is sure, raaking wise the siraple; in thy statutes, which are right, rejoicing the heart ; in thy coraraandments, which are pure, enlightening the eyes ; in the fear of thee, which is clean, enduring for ever ; in thy judgments, which are true and righteous altogether, more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold ; sweeter also than honey or the honey-comb.' Thus will every good and sensible soul express itself, after having meditated on the works and word of God. But whereas in his word he reveals himself and his will to the understandings of raen, in a much clearer manner than by his works, we ought to be doubly ' attentive thereunto,' ?o that ' our eyes may prevent the night-watches, to medi- 216 TME tHlNKER SHALL BE SAVED. [dISC. tate therein.' This is the book vt^hich we ought to peruse Vvith all the powers, vvhich we ought to study with all the veneration, of the soul, for it is the book of God, and teaches us who God is, who we ourselves are, and how we inay be happy ; happy bere, and happier still in a world infinitely more glorious than this which we behold vvith our mortal eyes. Herein may be read whatsoever it con cerns us most to know, that we may be converted and live ; which it concerns us most to consider, that we may adore the miracles of creating bounty, of redeeming mercy, of sanctifying grace ; and love as we have been loved. This is ' a lamp unto our feet,' so apt otherwise to stumble or stray. ' This is a light unto our path,' so rough in some places, and so narrow in all. When God speaks, who will hot lisfcen ? When he promises, who will not believe ? When he threatens, who will not tremble ? When he com mands, who will not obey? When he comraands us 'to search the Scriptures,' that is, to read, raark, learn, and in wardly digest thera, who is he that will refuse to read them ? or dare to read them, without submitting all his opinions and passions to thera? God did not create the world raerely for our bodies, that we raight, with the beasts, bask in the warmth of the Sun, and wanton in the produce of the earth ; no, he created it, that we having temperately enjoyed the comforts of life, might feast our understandings with the wonders of his works, and with love and adoration trace throughout this spacious field of observation that almighty hand which made, and that gracious hand which sustains, all things. Neither did he publish bis word, that we might, after a hasty reading, throw it aside, as we do by the books of men; but that we raight make it the subject of our medi tations by day and night ; that we might digest ifcs sacred and saving truths into our minds, as we do our daily food into our veins. We raust never forget, that a dreadful judgment awaits ' the transgressors of God's law ;' nor, ' that in keeping it there is great reward.' Frora a deep sense ofthe Divine Majesty, felt in the con templation of his works, and from a thorough apprehension of his justice and holiness, raised in us by our meditations on the word, the law, or religion he hath revealed to us, LXII.J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 217 nothing can be more natural, than to turn our reflections on ourselves, on the review of our past lives, and on the present, perhaps, dangerous state of our souls, clearly discovered by comparing them with the principles both of faith and prac tice, contained in the word of God. Here each df us may find reason to say, as the psalmist did j ' I am fearfully and wonderfully made ;' fearfully, as life and understanding may depend on a fibre, ten thousand times finer than a single hair, and even salvation on a thought ; and wonderfully, as I am, in myself, a world, a living, a reasoning world, compared with which the great world I see around me affords but faint proofs of creating wisdom and power. And here again, it will be as natural for the best of Christians, as it was for David, to cry out, ' who can un derstand his errors?' Who knows himself so well, as to fathom the depths of sin in his corrupt nature ? ' O cleanse thou me,' my God, ' from my secret faults,' from those faults which are lost to my own raeraory and conscience, and consequently to all particular sense of remorse. ' Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins,' from the horrible sins of intentionally shutting my eyes against thy truths, of blasphemously denying thy being or providence, of impiously arraigning thy justice or raercy, of proudly defying thy judgments, or of wilfully rebelling against thy laws. If through my own extreme infirraity, or the violent assaults of the devil, I should ever, in any degree, approach the borders of so black a guilt, ' O let it not acquire an habitual dominion over me ; so shall I be upright, so shall I be innocent from the great transgression.' Frora these reflections on the state of our souls, cora pared with the rule of our actions, we raust, in the first place, consider, what we all very well know, that • eternal life, glory, honour, and peace, are promised by the God of truth,' to them ' who, by patience and continuance in well doing, seek for glory, honour, and imraortality ; and that indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, are threat ened by the sarae God to all who are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness.' In the next place, by an irapartial examination of our own consciences we shall be able tojudge, which of these 218 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [dISC. opposite characters is justly due, on the whole, to the lives we are leading. And farther, in case we conclude, or even suspect, (which it is to be feared we shall) that we do not obey the truth, but rather obey unrighteousness, we are then to con sider what is to be done. There is no resting surely for a moment in astate, dangerous at the best, and infallibly fatal, if persevered in beyond the term of grace. After this, the violence of our affections and pas.sions, and the inveteracy of our sinful habits, must be severely brought to the test. With these, the temptations that beset us, and bear in perpetually on our corrupt dispositions and habits, are next to be compared, and as severely examined, both in regard to what they promise, and what they perform. Here, if the meditations already pursued, have roused us, and we are now thoroughly awake, a very alarming prospect (it is to be feared) will present itself to our eyes. All our forraer sins ; all our present dispositions to sin; all the snares of our spiritual eneraies ; the wrath of God ; the forfeiture of heaven for ever, and the eternal horrors of hell ; will all crowd at once into view. Yet, as it is better to fear than to feel, alarming as this prospect is, it will be our highest wisdora attentively to fix our eyes upou it, till it hath wrought its blessed effects in us, a settled ab horrence of sin, a vehement indignation at our enemy, a thorough distate to the bitterness found, instead of the sweetness promised, by temptation ; and in consequence of all, a resolution, never to be shaken on any trial, instantly entirely to forsake our sins. I say, instantly, because ' we know neither the day, nor the hour of our master's coming,' and, therefore, there is no dallying with the work of repent ance. If we trifle in this matter, we trifle with death, with our own souls, with eternity, wifch,God. And I say, entirely, because there is no compounding between God and the devil, ' no serving both God and mararaon, no offending in one point of the law without being guilty of all.' Dreadful, therefore, as the review of our sins, and the prospect of death and eternity, raay be, the happy effects expected frora both, ought to fix our attention on thera, for, humanly speaking, tiiere is no hope, but iu this fear, no safety, bufc in the alarms LXII.J THB THINKER SHALL BE SAVED, 219 ofthis danger. Were the salvation of a soul a matter of little consequence to itself, or were heaven a prize of small value, to think but seldom or slightly of them, might v\'ell enough consist with reason ; but whereas there is nothing else of high consequence to us but these, and as we all know there is not, what else but these, and the means of arriving at these, should we think of with a close or long continued attention ? What does any raan read the Scrip tures, what does he fast, what does he pray for, but in order to these infinitely iraportant ends ? And does he not know, that to read without raeditation is only to fix his eyes on blank paper, or a dead letter ; that to fast without raedita fcion is only to lose his meals; and that to pray without previous meditation, is only to address the Majesty of hea ven with words and sounds instead of sense ? All this he knows by experience, but he cannot think in this track without pain, and, therefore, he will think as little in it as he can. What then becoraes of his hopes as a Christian ? Or rather, what is already becorae of his reason, whb can give up God and heaven to avoid the trouble of travelling to the one, in the service of the other ? What sort of a rea soner he is who either cannot judge what concerns hira raost to think of, or judging, will rather think of any thing else ? But that one so faint-hearted, and' so irresolute, raay have some courage, let him listen to the words of God, who saith, ' turn thee, fof why wilt thou die ? Work out thy sal vation with fear and trembling, for it is I that work in thee both to will and to do of ray own good pleasure. If you continue in ray word, then are you my disciple, and you . shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free,' free frora these most slavish fears. Then ' shall my strength be perfected in your weakness.' Then shall you perceive that ' my grace is sufficient for you ;' and, what is still more, miserably as you are scared at the severity of ray ser vice, you shall soon find that ' my yoke is easy and my burden light,' infinitely easier than the yoke of the enemy, and lighter than the burden of sin. Trust to t*hese comfortable encourageraents frora hira who loveth you, and hath given his life for you, and consi der, on the other hand, how temptation hath performed the promises she made you. Have you not hitherto, on every 220 THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. [dISC. trial, found her vanity in the pursuit, and vexation in the end ? And are you any longer to be caught with chaff? to be the fool and dupe of arts, already tried and seen through ? Surely, ' it is better for you that compunction,' like a true friend, ' should smite and rep rove yu,' than that you should listen to temptation, though her ' words are softer than oil,' since you know, ' the poison of asps is under her lips.' Against her allurements, therefore, steel your heart with the fortitude of a Christian, and with the understanding of a rational creature. Look attentively into yourself, although you should see nothing there but monsters of deformity. And look steadily forward on the way before you, although the tears of a thorough repentance, or even the horrors of death and damnation, should overspread it from your very feet to the farther end. Then meditate with all the force of an awakened mind, as well on the necessity, as the difficulty of the work you have to do, on the shortness and uncertainty of the time it is to be done in ; on the eye of God that is never off you ; on the awful vow you made when you was baptized ; on the conteraptible eraptiness of a world that passeth away like a morning cloud ; on the inconceivable importance and gran deur of a world, where happiness or misery know neither bounds nor end ; on the word of God, where all you are to do is commanded ; where all you are to avoid is forbidden; where every raotive to the love and fear of God, to the de testation of sin, and to watchfulness over yourself and your ways, are plainly set before you, and urged upon your rea son, your heart, your conscience, with a divine force, not to be resisted by a thinking raind. Think, therefore, and you shall be saved. But think With all the strength of your understanding, and all the ar dour of your heart. Think with that strength of under standing you exerted, when you schemed for the profits, pleasures, or honours ofthis despicable world. Think wifch that ardour of heart M'hich animated your pursuit of vanity and vexation ; and God, though you are now thinking for him and heaven, will ask no more. He, who in woridly affairs of small moraent generally acts a giddy part, is called a thoughtiess man. He, who in greater matters (woridly matters I still mean) shews neither LXII.J THE THINKER SHALL BE SAVED. 221 forecast nor care, is called a stupid man, or a fool. But by what name shall we call him, who, knowing his temporal interests, pleasures, or promotions, to be less than nothing, in coraparison of bis spiritual, gives nevertheless all his thoughts to this world, and thinks almost as little of God and heaven, ashe does, who believes there is neither? Yetif this man shews sorae skill, and happens to succeed in the manageraent ofhis worldly affairs, he is pronounced wise by the rest of mankind, even by those who scruple 'hot in the least to call him a raad raan, whora they see collecting pins, and scattering guineas. This gross abuse of words does in conceivable mischief in the world; for by this raeans it happens that one man's folly is countenanced by that of another; that while the life of the good man is accounted madness, only because it is singular, the stupidity of the worldling and the wicked is complimented with the title of wisdora, purely because it hath numbers on its side ; and that every trifle is thought raore of than the soul; the sraallest degree of pleasure than heaven ; a moraent than eternity. Could the most unthinking wretch among us be once brought attentively to balance the infinite with the finite, the eternal witb the temporary, and God with this world ; it would be almost impossible for him afterward to lose sight of a difference so greatly striking, or to give up his life to a preference so inconceivably absurd, as that which hath hitherto governed almost all his actions. To such a balance I call every soul that hears me, every soul, in which the power of thinking is yet alive. I call on the rational soul, formed in the iraage of God, and entitled to endless giory, to consider with due contempt the vanity, and with a just aversion the vexation, of every thing that is under the sun. I call on the rational and thinking soul, to think and meditate on God, on his works, on his word, and on its own infinite interest. And shall I call in vain ? Is it possible the rational soul should be deaf to a call, made as loud as the trumpet ofthe archangel by the force of infinite reasons, and as sweet as the music of heaVen by the pro mises, by the invitations of God himself, and by the sure and eertain hopes of life, immortality, and glory ? And now, for myself, and for all who have heard, and will consider what I have said, I call upon God, and say. 222 GOD ^VILL MEASURE TO YOU [disC. ' let the words of our raouths, and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our strengfch and our Redeemer.' To God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be all raight, raajesty. dignity and dorainion, now and for everraore. Araen. DISCOURSE LXIII. GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. Luke vi. 37. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven. Whether it is, that most raen are ignorant of themselves, or of the word ' forgive,' in this place, I know not, but there is nothing raore coraraon than to hear thera sayihg, I for give my enemies, I forgive all the world ; and yet to hear those very persons, almost in the same breath, speaking ill of their neighbours, and even to see them doing unfriendly offices to others, some of whora they never had any reason to consider as their eneraies. A general act of grace^ like this, thafc costs a raan nothing but words, and is contradicted in particular by his other expressions, and by raany of his actions, shews only, that he either knows not what for giveness is, or else hath learned a knack of equivocating with hiraself, if he means any thing, but a wilful lie, by his declaration. To ' forgive,' in our Saviour's senseof the original word, is to discharge a debt, or fco dismiss at full liberty a debtor, who has been bound or arrested. By this he means, that every Christian who hath been injured, should think, speak, and act, in regard to the offending party, as affectionately and kindly as if no sort of injury had been done him, Christ, as our Redeeraer, would save all raen ; and even as our judge, having satisfied divine justice for our sins, would justify all raen ; but there is one case wherein his justice as LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 223 a judge may give such limits to his goodness ahd mercy, as that mercy would prevent. The case is of those who appeal to his tribunal against one another. If such appeals are made, justice only can be done, and mercy must b^ ex cluded; but then he who by appealing demands justice, must stand to justice hiraself, and is to expect no mercy; whereas ' he who forgives, shall be forgiven.' No doubt, our blessed Saviour had nothing more in view, than to cul tivate in all his followers that kind and forgiving disposi tion, whereby the spirit of his gospel is peculiarly distin guished. Here, nevertheless, where he expresses forgive ness by a law-term, and consequently turns our attention to his judicial capacity, a full liberty in his exercise ofthat capacity, in order to give mercy scope, seeras to have been the main design of his promising raercy to the raerciful, and of his elsewhere threatening the unforgiving with ven geance. Here now is the great law of Christ in relation to offences and injuries of all sorts ; a law infinitely sweet in this re spect that, if ' we forgive' now, ' we shall be forgiven' here after ; and infinitely dreadful also in this, that, ' if we do not forgive, we shall not be forgiven.' Who now is he that dare say, I will not forgive ? He only is in his senses who is without sin. But as 'all men have sinned,' as every man hath sinned in an infinitely raore provoking manner against God, than the rest of mankind can possibly have sinned against hira, so an entire and un limited forgiveness must be, not only the generous deter mination, but likewise the most self-interested act, of every rational mind. But here perhaps you will say, ' all this I knew before, and have long wished to accommodate my stubborn heart to this precept of my Saviour. Wish, however, as I will, and do what I can, my resentments keep their ground, inso much that I cannot speak kindly of my enemy, nor even keep an indifferenfc silence when he is mentioned ; much less can I withhold my heart from pain, when he prospers or is applauded ; or frora pleasure, when adversity or con tempt is thrown upon him.' W'en, but still you wish, and would be glad to be other wise affected ; and therefore though sick of a deadly dis- 224 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU . [dTSC. order, have nevertheless the symptoras (and hopeful ones they are) of a recovering raind, a mind ready to make the most of such helps as Providence shall afford it, whether from the pulpit, or elsewhere. If instructions from the pulpit are not pleasing to you, one thing at least we hope, you will willingly take from thence, an exhortation to con sult with the pulpit of your own reason, and the better part of yourself. Go home to your own breast, and ask your heart these questions. ' Hast thou, my heart, no other passions but pride and anger ? What is become of the humanity and benevolence, whereof, on some occasions, thou hast given such pleasing proofs ? Wilt thou suffer thy pride to tyrannise over thy love ? What an heart art thou, if rage, revenge, and mischief, can afford thee more pleasure, than forgiveness and acts of kindness and generosity ?' If an enemy is thus able to transform and degrade a man to the most odious class of beings, that man not only is now, but was, before the injury done him, a very despicable being, and liable, it seeras, to an infinitely worse sort of injury, than can possibly be done in regard to fortune, liberty, character, or even life itself; an injury, I raean, in regard to virtue. The enemy who can turn a good man into a bad one, is the worst of all eneraies. No man, how ever, can do this to us, without our own concurrence. We are all of us able, if not wanting to ourselves, to preserve an even temper under the most grievous provocations ; and not only that, but a tender-hearted remembrance also, that the man who injures us, was perhaps once our friend, at least is still our fellow-creature, our neighbour; and may hereafter, if retaliation do not forbid it, nay, in case forgive ness should encourage it, become the most zealous pro moter of our interest and honour. But if, as I suspect, it is your pride that at any time makes you implacable, for 'only by pride cometh conten tion,' as a very wise man hath said, pray ask yourself, what that pride is, whether it is that passion, which makes the man who is enslaved to it, not less intolerable to himself, than to the rest of mankind ; or whether it is only that laudable regard for the dignity of your own person and cha racter, be it raore or less, which no man is required to de- LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 225 scend from. If it is the former, you have only to consider the infinite troubles and mischiefs it is likely, if not properly restrained and mortified, to involve you in, and the cer tainty there is, thafc all who know you, will join to pull it down, and to turn it, till it is pulled down, into an engine of torture to yourself. But in case it is no more than a due regard to your honour, and you can justify it as a prin ciple, yet you can never do this, till you can shew it to be a principle in you of somewhat more noble than revenge. Now, a revengeful disposition is the property only of a little and effeminate mind. Nothing is great, whose con trary is great. But a forgiving, which is the direct opposite to a revengeful spirit, is, ofall others, the most exalted, turn of mind, is an imitation bf God-himself, in that very attribute from whence his highest glory araong raen is derived. This way, into this upward path, berid your pride, and it shall one day raise you so high that you shall see the stars twinkling under your feet, as far as they do now above your head. If you would build high and firm, dig low in humi lity, in meekness, and in forgiveness, for a foundation, and your roof shall reach the heavens. Howsoever strongly your pride may dispose you to re sentment and anger, we will suppose you a raan of at least comraon sense and prudence, and as such, better pleased to have a friend than a foe. The forraer will do you all the good, the latter all the raischief, he can. Now, to raake him your friend who is at present your eneray, your surest way is first to be his friend, and in the spirit of a friend to begin with sincerely forgiving hira all his offences and in juries ; and then to let him see the proofs of this forgive ness in such affectionate expressions and kind offices, as may be sufficient to remove from his mind every suspicion ofyour retaining the least sense of his ill-treatment. It is in vain to say, you forgive, if you do not, as soon as oppor tunity is afforded, shew the fruits of that forgiveness. If you know it not already, you should be told, that the chief difficulty in doing good for evil is found in the first instance ; and, strange as it may seem, that a good heart is not more powerfully won to love by the good it receives, than by that which it does. You know not how good you can be till you try. Make the experiment, and you will find, after VOL. III. Q 226 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU [dISC. doing one act of kindness, more ease and pleasure in doing the next ; and to this progress of a heart, melting in its own warmth, the great abatement of hatred in that of your enemy, under the influence of so much undeserved good ness, together with more or less of araendraent in his beha viour towards you, will largely contribute. There is no resisting the charras of a conduct so great and so divine as this. Ifyou hold on in it but a littie (and surely you can persevere as long in goodness, as the worst of raen in wickedness) you will conquer, and bring your enemy home in the fetters of gratitude and love, so captivated to your service for ,the future, as to make no great difference be tween your happiness and his own. If you proceed in this raanner, you will soon heal the rankling wound raade in your heart by the injuries of others, and poisoned alraost to a gangrene by your own pride, which for the present fills you with spleen, wrath, and re venge, at once the ugliest and raost uneasy sensations, the heart of a human creature can possibly feel. There is no other balm but that of forgiveness, that can assuage their anguish ; no opiate, but an humble and meek forgetfulness, that under tbe circumstances of injury and provocation, can give rest to the soul. With this rest, however, and the triuraph raade by the raind over itself, and over the indigni ties offered to it by baseness and brutality, a kind of plea sure is enjoyed, infinitely exceeding all the sweets of ven geance, even in the haughtiest dispositions. Besides, corapute what it will cost you to be revenged, what scheraes, what cares, what watchings, what a waste of your power or interest, that might be so much better em ployed in advancing your faraily and fortune. Then consi der, that as, not only your adversary, but Providence, is concerned to blast your cruel intentions, the whole may end in a shameful disappointraent, or what is still worse, in ruin, in destruction, perhaps even in death, to yourself. Consi der beforehand, how this will mortify your pride, how it will sting and gall your resentraent; and how rauch better it had been to have stifled both at the beginning, and nobly risen above yourself and your enemy by a wise and generous forgiveness of all his injuries. What a difference is there between hira who traraples under his feet the fiends of his LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 227 own pride and wrath, and thus triuraphs over the insolence of inferior rainds ; and hira ' whose feet are caught in the net he had laid for others,' whose soul equally indignant and depressed, is forced to bite the ground under the heel of a successful and insulting eneray ! By this tirae you may have been made sensible, without going to Christianity for reasons, how much more wise and noble it is to forgive, than to seek for revenge ; but you no sooner look into the Scriptures for directions and motives in this difficult case, fchan you find fche firsfc delivered in a pererapfcory command, often and loudly repeated ; and the last, amounting to no less than an assurance of heaven, if you obey ; and of hell, ifyou do not. Hear what God says even to the Jew. ' Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart. Thou shalt not revenge* nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people ; but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I ara the Lord.' And hear what he says to you as a Christian. ' For give. Bless them that curse you. Do good to tbem that hate you. Pray for thera that persecute you. Forgive, and you shall be forgiven.' First then, you are commanded by God himself to for give, not this trifling affront, or that inconsiderable injury, but all affronts, howsoever provoking, and all injuries, how soever grievous. If neither your natural generosity of temper, nor your unassisted wisdom, could hitherto prevail on you to forgive, yet now that you find the majesty ofthe Almighty hath interposed, and raade it your duty by an ex press coramand, to consult with your pride any longer, is to rebel as the devil did, and on the very same principle or passion. The wise man tells you, ' pride was not made for man, nor furious anger for them that are born of a woman.' A wiser still hath told you, ' that a raan's pride shall bring hira low;' and no wonder, since this passion, in its first instance, brought sorae ofthe heavenly host, down frora the very suramit of created glory, into the sink of the universe, into a pit of infamy and raisery. And God himself tells you, 'that vengeance is his, a:nd that he will repay.' How dare you who are but dust and ashes, who call ' the worm your sister,' and the earth your raother, presume to usurp the peculiar prerogative of your judge? to thrust yourself q2 228 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU [dISC. into the place of the Almighty ? and to wrest the thunder from the hand of God ? Remeraber, remeraber, ' that pride go^th before destruction, and so closely, that nothing comes between but anger and revenge. Remember the words of Nebuchadnezzar, after his humiliation, ' those who walk in pride God is able to abase ;' and that you may know, he is to the full as willing, remeraber the words of Isaiah, ' The Lord of hosts hath purposed to stain the pride of all glory,' and yours more especially, because otherwise he must give up to contempt the honour and authority of his own com mand. Reraember likewise, that though the injury should affect you, not so rauch in your pride, as in some other re spect, for instance, ' if a man devour you, if a man take of you, if a raan sraite or wound you,' the forgiveness of it is equally required by the comraand of God. Consider, too, how much the case is now altered,, so altered indeed, that you have no longer an offending fellow-creature only to deal with, but are engaged in a contest with the Almighty, ifyou go on to seek for revenge. It is true, God may punish your enemy for the injury he hath done you ; but what consola tion will tbis be to you, when you feel in yourself the vin dictive effects of God's displeasure at your raore heinous offence, who have shewn that you hate your brother more than you fear your God ? If you lay these considerations duly to heart, you will infallibly forgive ; or if you do not, you will have the mortification to remember, that your poor soul is reduced to a most desperate state, as having tram pled on the command, and flown in the face of Almighty majesty. As however, your low-pitched mind is more apt to be moved by a tender regard to yourself, than to the commands even of him whora the highest angel in heaven dare not disobey, there is still an argument for forgiveness in reserve. which may touch your soul to the quick in that part of it. where, if at all, there is any feeling left. The argument is couched in these words of my text, taken together, ' forgive, and you shall be forgiven,' and in these, ' if you forgive not, neither shall you be forgiven.' Here your sins, by a mystery of divine wisdom infinitely transcending, and (if I raay so express it) over-reaching, all the arts of the great deceiver, are turned into so many LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 229 engines, whereby your soul may be forced up, against its very nature to the highest pitch of virtue. A right sense of your sins will take down your pride, and fill you with hu mility and fear. Your humility and fear will teach you to forgive, and to reward evil with good ; will teach you to act by other men, as you wish and pray, that God raay act by you, that is, will dispose you to act like God, when he displays his goodness in the raost beautiful and glorious of all his attributes. Behold how, by the wisdom of the gos pel, your virtue is promoted by your very vices ! Examine, therefore, your conscience with the utmost care and severity; shake out all your offences against God, against raan, and against your own nature ; throw all your sins of thought, of word, of deed, upon the heap ; and to raise it to its utraost height, lay your wilful and presumptuous crimes, where they ought to lie, that is, upperraost, next the eye of heaven. View with araazement this enormous, this frightful funeral pile, whereon your body, nay your very soul is to be con sumed, if God in his infinite raercy do not forgive you ; and then ask yourself, whether, in order to be forgiven, in order to have the whole raass of your sins, both secret and open, reduced to nothing, you will agree to forgive your brother, your poor transgressing brother, who was drawn in to of fend you by infirmities and teraptations too like your own. Let your viieness you : let your wickedness terrify you. Thus hurabled, thus terrified, you will find it difficult not to forgive. Look back at your baptisra, wherein your original sin was done away, and the pardon of all your actual sins, if" duly repented of, ensured ; and ask yourself with what face, after being in mercy thus admitted into the church of Christ, you can even there, in the very eye of God, and in the pre sence of Christ, become an exactor of justice, and a claimer of vengeance against one for whom Christ hath died, as well as for you ; ask yourself, how so soon after being discharged of so gre.at a debt by the comraon master of you both, you can ' seize your fellow-servant by the throat, and drag him to prison,,' because he cannot pay a much smaller sura. Then turn your eyes forward on the great day of accounts, and before you resolve to hold your insolvent brother to a settlement of the last farthing, consider, how you can ba- 230 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU [dISC, lance with Alraighty God. On him there is no iraposing. His books are kept with infinite exactness. He is the only unerring accounfcanfc. Besides, wifch hira there is no pity nor forbearance for that unhappy man, who hath shewn none to his fellow-creature. 'He shall have judgraenfc without raercy, that shewed no raercy.' When you have once struck a deep irapression of this alarming prospect on your heart, lefc ifc be your nexfc care fairly fco weigh your sins againsfc God wifch those which others raay have coraraitted against you. Ifyou do this with any degree of impartiality, you will find, though you should be the best of raen, and the most cruelly used by the rest of mankind, that their ill treatment of you bears no proportion to your offences in the sight of God, you will plainly per ceive the former sinking into nothing on comparison with the latter. The natural effect of this comparison, taken together with the proposa], in my text, will be, a firm resolution to close with that proposal, and to adore, in a transport of gra titude, the goodness of God for an indulgence, so infinitely tender ; an indulgence, which puts your soul into your own hands, and gives you the happy power of wiping out the long and black account in God's book against you, by set ting a full discharge at the foot of fchafc in yours against your neighbour. You have the divine proraise, that as fast as pity and forgiveness shall lengthen out the blank in yours, so fast shall the sponge of infinite inercy blot out your trans gressions in his. Thus, whether you look backward or forward, you see nothing but raercy, raercy to you and all men, on the part of God. And are you to shew no mercy ? Are you to stop the current of God's compassion towards other men by hold ing them severely to account ? You, who can give no ac count of yourself, but such as must inevitably throw you into outer darkness ? To what raadness hath your pride trans ported, you, that you should either think yourself without sin on the one side, or on the other, resolve at once to exact vengeance, and iraplore forgiveness ! O the provoking in consistence ! How you assurae, and trerable, at the same instant ! assume, as if you only were righteous ! and trem ble, as if conscious of approaching daranation ! Whither LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 231 shall you fly for shelter ! In your own unforgiving heart there is no refuge ; in the raercy of God, though infinite, no relief; even raercy which you refuse, pleads againsfc you; nor in the merits of Christ, though infinite also, is there any sanctuary for a soul so opposite to the mind of Christ, and so intent on mischief to the raerabers ofhis raystical body. But, methinks, I see you relent, and hear you say, you can, you will forgive. Happy change ! wherein there is sal vation both for you and your transgressing brother. But whereas your resentments have perhaps been wrested from you, rather by the fear of God's judgments, and a too selfish tenderness for your own safety, than by the coraraands of God, or the charitable disposition of your own heart; you ought fco suspecfc the sincerity of your forgiveness, and labour by your raeditations and prayers sfcill raore and more to rein force the spirit it proceeds from, till you have made ifc evi dent fco yourself, nofc only fchat the prosperity and honour of your enemy gives you real pleasure, and the contrary, con cern ; bufc thafc you can also place some share of your satis faction in proraoting the forraer, and lessening the latter. You ought by no raeans to r;est contented with your progress, .before it hath arrived at this stage of iraproveraent, because it may require all this at least to produce in you, what our blessed master insists on, ' forgiveness until seventy times seven, in case your enemy shall proceed with his provoca tions, and injurious treatraent of you, as you have done with your offences against God. Here now you will be apt to ask, ' whether all this is expected frora you, before your enemy hath come to himself, ceased to persecute you, and made the proper acknowledg ments for his bad behaviour ?' And I answer by asking two other questions of you ; whether you find any exception for this case, either in our Saviour's precept, or his exaraple; and whether you were to choose, you would have the for giveness of your sins, and acceptance with God, to depend o'n the repentance of an eneray so perverse, rather than on a charitable turn of mind in yourself, where the work of your salvation may be carried on in your own heart, and is wholly at your own discretion ? Consider if your enemy never repents, on your rule, you can never forgive ? and on God's rule, you can never be forgiven. Your making no other returns, but 232 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU [dISC. of friendship, to repeated acts of enmity, will probably at lengfch soften his hearfc, and soofch him to a better behaviour; but if it does not, your work of charity must go on to its own accomplishraent, and be regulated by its own proper rules, which are not to be taken from the conduct of any man, least of all, from that of a bad man, but from the com mandraent of Christ, and frora his conduct in the like case. It will be no excuse to say, Christ, being infinitely perfect, could easily exemplify a thousand virtues, which one so frail as you are, cannot possibly imitate him in ; for I say, on the other side, that Christ had no sins to be forgiven, as you have, and therefore forgiveness in you is prompted by a mo tive, humanly speaking, rauch stronger than any our blessed Saviour could have felt the force of, the very motive, of all others, which carries with it the greatest weight, your own eternal salvation. You will say too, though you are angry, and wish for revenge, you do not appeal to the final audit, you do not wish for eter nal vengeance. No, you would be glad to see your enemy sufficiently hurabled, mortified, despised, in this world ; but you would allow him to be saved in fche life to corae. Indeed you do not know, what you yourself raean by sufficiently. Pride and anger know no bounds. 'He that hateth his bro ther, is in darkness, and walketh in darknes, and knoweth not whither he goeth. because that darkness hath blinded his eyes ;' knows, by no raeans, to what length his spirit of re venge would carry hira ; whether to raurder, or even damna tion, in case a raore liraited raisery is not to be enjoyed, he cannot tell. Give not a loose therefore to the thunder of revenge, which if once let go, is not to be recalled or mode rated. Christ bids you forgive, and certainly means, that you should neither wish for teraporal, nor appeal for eternal vengeance. He raeans, that 'you should do good for evil;' and till you mean the sarae thing, you are neither like him, nor can possibly belong to him. He who commands you to love your enemy, could not surely mean, that you might hate hira, and wish to be revenged of hira, though but in the sraallest degree. You pray, that God may not take ven geance of you, either here, or hereafter, for your sins. Do by your enemy, as you would have God to do by you. Be assured God will deal by you, as you deal by him. LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 233 But you farther complain, that, in case you should for give, which you are willing to do, your enemy will be thereby only encouraged to greater insolence ; and others, no better disposed than he, ascribing your carriage, neither to lenity nor principle, but to cowardice, or a passive stupidity, will be tempted to signalize themselves on one so lost to the common notions of honour, so that your reputation, your fortune, your person, will lie at the mercy of baseness>and bru tality on all occasions. Were you not a Christian, it would, I confess, be a very difficult raatter to answer this coraplaint. It would but half satisfy you to say, that forgiveness is more likely, than revenge, to blunt the point ofyour enemies ma lice, and to conciliate to you the hearts of him and all other men. You readily allow, that, in good minds, forgiveness may, and doing good for evil, must, have that effect'. But, with the far greater number, who are not so minded, you say, it will be attended with the untoward consequences ob jected. If you do not wrong the majority of mankind by this apprehension, you at least overlook the friendship and assistance of all good raen, who will interpose in your de fence against a persecution, unprovoked, but by the highest generosity. And what is worse still, you overlook the pro tection of Almighty God, who cannot be supposed to stand neuter in a contest between meekness and cruelty, both in perfection. Nay, what is yet more shocking, you overlook your own sins against God, you overlook the command and example of your blessed Saviour, who could never have wrought your salvation for you, had he not followed that very conduct he requires of you, under circurastances infi nitely raore provoking and cruel, than your patience can ever possibly be tried with. Do you hope forthe pardon of all your sins, for deliverance from eternal torments, for all the glories of heaven, without a battle, without a struggle? What valuable purpose, even of this worthless life, did you ever accomplish, with less labour, pain, or self-denial, than is here made necessary to the attainraent of heaven ? Beware of a relapse here, consider you are a Christian. Recollect your sins again. Fix your eyes on heaven and hell; and remenjber, that you cannot be forgiven, unless you forgive. Take therefore tbe measure as well as the reason of your forgiveness, from the degree of your own 234 GOD, WILL MEASURE TO, YOU [dISC. guilt, which you hope to reraove by that forgiveness ; and then no degree of provocation will be too great for your charity to surmount. If your judgment and heart have given theraselves wholly up to the strength of the foregoing considerations, you are now in a right disposition, first, to abstain from every act of revenge; secondly, to repay the injuries ofyour enemy with benefits ; thirdly, to offer up your prayers acceptably to God ; and lastly, even to entertain sorae degree of love for those who hate you ; that is (for so much of your duty as regards the rest of mankind) you are in the true Spirit of fche gospel, and nofc far from Christian perfection. In the first place, an abstinence frora all acts of revenge is the lowest proof of the gospel spirit, and so necessary an effect of ifc, thafc fche profession of Chrisfcianifcy, without it, is but an hypocritical pretence. Wherefore, if at any time you are fcempfced to revenge, remember the example of David, when he had Saul in his power, and pray earnestly to God, as he did, ' to forbid or prevent, not only the act of vengeance in your hand, but the very will to do it in your heart.' Be assured, this prayer is a prayer for yourself; and if heartily put up, will return with a sevenfold blessing 'into your own bosom.' In the second place, to repay benefits for injuries, though it is going a step farther, is as necessary to the spirit ofthe gospel, and therein as expressly required, as an abstinence frora revenge. You pray to God (do you not) for a great deal more than deliverance from the vengeance due to your sins; you pray to him for fche joys of heaven, that is, for an infinite good, in the place of the infinite evil you have de served at his hands. And how can you raake this prayer to the all-knowing being, while you content yourself with the raere negative virtue of doing no harra to your enemies? In the third place, take care how you forget that you can by no raeans pray acceptably to God, nor in the spirit of his gospel, not to say for pardon of your sins, or for hea ven, but for any thing else you want, till you can pray as sincerely (I was going to say as fervently) for your eneraies. The forra of prayer he gave you, and his coraraand, ' when you stand praying, forgive, if you have ought against any man, fchat your Father also which is, in heaven may forgive LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 235 you your trespasses,' are sufficient to teach you, that you are in no condition to pray for yourself, till you can pray with a hearty good-will for your enemies. But, in the last place, fchat you may forgive, do good fco, and pray for your eneraies, as well as for yourself, and all in the sincere and lovely spirit of the gospel ; and that you may be assured, this comes from your very heart, you must obey the command of Christ, ' and love your enemies.' Hear the coraraent of St. Paul on this greafc law of his raasfcer. ' Bless fchem fchafc persecute you ; bless and curse not. Re compense to no man evil for evil. If it be possible, as rauch - as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. Revenge not yourself, but rather give place unto wrath- If your eneray hunger, feed him. If he thirst, give him drink. Be not overcome of evil, bufc overcome evil wifch good. Be ye fcen- der hearfced forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Walk worthy of the vocation, wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another (no doubt he means when injuries arise) in love; and let your love be without dissimulation.' ' God is love,' and his religion, fiowing from him as light from a luminous body, is of the sarae nature with hira, is love also. 'On the love God and our neighbour hang all the law and the prophets,' so that ' love is the fulfilling of the law.' Accordingly humility, meekness, forgiveness, love, as exeraplified in the life of our blessed Saviour here on earth, exhaust his whole history. On the other hand, the religion, ifl raay so express it, of the devil, is of a piece with hiraself, and consists of pride, malice, revenge, persecution. There are other differences between the fruits of the good and the evil spirit ; but herein is found that peculiar distinction, which Christ hiraself hath pointed out, and whereby be jjyould have his disciples known from those of the evil being. The followers of Christ are marked in every feature, in their tongues, and in their hands, with love. The followers of Satan are marked in the same places with hatred. You see, you hear, you feel, the dis tinction, as soon as you come near enough to either. Now, let a man profess as vehemently, and talk as elo quently as he will about religioii, if he carries not the mark 236 GOD WILL MEASURE TO YOU [dISC. of Christ, he is to be regarded but ' as sounding brass,' a mixture of impudence and noise ; and should be heard only * as a loud cymbal,' proclaiming the triumphs of vanity. If you, to whom I am speaking, are one of that numerous class, who never err, who are perfect and faultless, Christ came not to call you, either to repentance or forgiveness. You sit too high on your infallibility to be touched by the text or discourse of this day. Look down, however, with pity on the rest of mankind, who move in a sphere so far beneath you ; and as you cannot be affected with the worst they are able to do to you, to pass it over with the serenity and sublimity, natural to a soul so elevated as yours is, will be the easiest thing in the world to you, ' who suffer fools gladly because you yourself are wise;' But in case you are one of those poor weak mortals who often stray from the path of true wisdom and holiness, you ought to know, that nothing can be so wildly absurd in you, as disobedience to the coramand of Christ in my text, not only as a coraraand (for who with irapunity shall disobey the Lord of all ?) but as a proposal infinitely advantageous to you. Lest passion and prejudice should blind you in an affair, which hath already raised you to too great a degree of warrath, try the merits of this proposal in loWer matters, and in other persons. Forgive, saith a raaster to one of his servants, in your hearing, forgive your fellow-servant the guinea he owes you, and you shall be forgiven the hundred you owe me. Forgive that other fellow-servant the, re proaches he hath flung at you, and you shall be forgiven the theft you lately coraraitted, when you was discovered stealing ray goods. Forgive that third fellow-servant the blow you just now received frora him, and you shall be for given the assault you committed on nie, your master, for which you are now under prosecution. If you do not com ply with me in this, you shall be paid your guinea ; but then I will exact ray hundred guineas of you to the very last far thing. You shall have satisfaction too for the affront of fered you; but shall be publicly exposed to the infamy your theft hath deserved. I will punish the man -Who struck you, as justice requires, but will execute on you the rigour of that justice for your act of rebellion and violence against myself. As you measure from you, I -^ill measure to you, LXIII.J IN YOUR OWN BUSHEL. 237 mercy for mercy, justice for justice, vengeance for vengeance. You demand an exact account, and shall have it ; but you shall also give it. You think this servant a perfect madman, when you hear him crying out, I insist on an account, I will be paid, I will have satisfaction. Do you indeed ? Well then, Christ is the master, and thou art the man. What ! will you not foro-ive a trifle, to be forgiven that which is infinite ? will you plunge to the bottom of the lake, for the pleasure of seeing your enemy- swim on the surface ? How is it, that you judge so clearly in things of little raoment, which relate to others, while in a case ofthe same nature, but ofthe last consequence to yourself, you are wholly stupid ? Is it self that shuts your eyes? self! which of all things ought to open them, when your salvation is brought in question? Amazing ! whom will you see for, if you cannot see for yourself? ' Whora will you be wise for,' if you will not be advised by Solomon 'to be wise for yourself?' I have nothing farther to say, than only, in the most earnest manner to beg you would behold upon the whole of what hath been offered, the infinite excellence of the gospel scheme in reference to the doctrine urged in this discourse, and to embrace it, with your whole understanding and heart, as divinely just and merciful throughout; just, inasmuch as it turns you over to your own law to be judged, for ' with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged, and with what raeasure ye meet, it shall be -measured to you again ;' and merciful, inasrauch as you are graciously offered forgiveness of all your great, crying, and provoking sins against God, on the easy terms of forgiving the much smaller offences of raen against you. Reject this proposal, and you are lost for ever. Receive it, and you do the utmost that man can do, to ensure your own salvation. God give you understanding in all things, more particu larly in this, to make a wise choice, and thereby ' to make sure your election and adoption,' as the child of the merciful and forgiving God, through Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whom, with the Father, iemd the Holy Spirit, be all might; majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. 238 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. DISCOURSE LXIV. THE PINNACLE OF CHRIST'S CHURCH. Matt. v. 43, 44. Ye liave heard tliat it hath been said, thou slialt 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 tliem which despitefully use you and persecute you. The law of God, raore perfect than those of men, having required it of his people ' to love one another as neigh bours,' which no human law ever did ; the false interpreters of this divine law, as if a rule of contraries raight here have place, did, in obedience to an unioward nature, and to un assisted reason, give it as a law too, that an Israelite ' should hate bis eneray.' Barbarous conclusion ! But so agreeable was it to the natural pride and resentraents of mankind, that no ordinance of God was ever kept with equal strictness, as Christ and his disciples, though far from enemies to any one, did but too fully experience. But our blessed instructor, having in my text repeated, and on other occasions confirraed, the law, not only con derans the foul conclusion of its interpreters, but, to the infinite surprise of those who beard him, and directly against the grain of a corrupt nature in all raen, coraraands ' all Christians ' to love their eneraies.' Here the law, as enjoining soraewhat of but little virtue, naraely, the love of those who love us, the virtue of a mere beast, is left far behind, and a precept advanced, which sets its foot on all the pride, passion, cruelty, and, I may add, on great part of the wrong reasonings and false politics of the world ; while ifc raises its beautiful head to heaven, and inspires us with the glorious arabition of iraitating infinite perfection, and becoraing ' the children of hira who raaketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.' Lxiv.J christ's^ church. 239 Having heard the coraraand of Christ, not to those alone, who through a superior understanding, and a higher pitch of spirit, seera destined to uncoraraon victories, or a crown of martyrdom, but to every Christian ; let no one of us, prompted by his own baseness of mind, or by that inbred humbler his pride, presume to excuse himself on the footing of an affected humility, and say ; let those who set up for heroism, try if they can bring theraselves to a love of their eneraies. I raust build ray hopes on rauch lower founda tions, or not hope at all. I raay perhaps find in my heart to forgive ; but that heart forbids me to love, and yet I hope to be saved, as well as others. Do you in good earnest ? Saved by Christ, while you proudly kick against his precepts ? You talk of low foun dations ; but had you true huraility, you would want little raore to prepare you for the love of your enemies. Your resentments are the natural children of your pride. Some other Saviour must be found for you, if you will neither obey nor imitate, to the uttermost of your power, thafc only Saviour, who prayed for his enemies, who gave his life for his enemies, which he had never done, had he not loved them raore than his life. You raust bend your raind, though ever so rauch stiffened by an untoward nature, to this com mand of Christ, as well as to the rest, or you can have no part in him. None can be saved, nor admitted into that society whereof love is the soul, but the children of God. Now God will own none for his children, but such as are like him, like him in this, as well as in his other features, kindness to the unthankful, and beneficence towards the injurious, on the only sincere and lasting principle, the real love of their eneraies. Christ, you see, begins with the principle, ' love your enemies,' as with the root, and afterward proceeds to the fruit, 'bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you,' &c. He then gives you the reason, ' thafc you raay be fche children of your Fafcher which is in heaven ; for he raakefch his sun to rise on the evil and on the good,' as well on those who rebel as on those who obey. And, to let you see, that, if you mean to be the disciple of Christ, raore will be expected of you, than of others who are not, raore than mere natural morality can teach ; he goes on to expostulate 240 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. with all, and even to upbraid you, who are for obeying him only so far as ease and pleasure go hand in hand with duty, saying, ' for, if you love them which love you, what reward have you ? Do not even the publicans and sinners,' the worst sort of men, ' the same ? And if you salute your brethren only, what do ye raore than others ? Do not even the publicans so ?' Having thus shewn you what, in this instance, he ex pects you should be ; not grateful only, but generous ; not just only, but merciful ; nofc a man of ordinary or moral goodness only, but a Godlike man ; he concludes with an exhortation to the most exalted virtue, ' be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.' As he is ' perfect God,' so be ye, as far as human nature can admit iraprovement, ' perfect men.' You may soraetimes forgive your enemies, nay, and re pay their injuries with good offices, because you are well assured, that ' if you do not forgive, you shall not be for given ;' if you do not good for evil to others, God will not do it to you. But Christ requires you should do it on a principle of love, on that principle which God acts by towards you, on that great, if not only, principle of eternal enjoyment, which, like a golden chain, binds all that are good together, and to God, their head. If this is not your motive, but self only, as of one who expects to be dealt with, just as he deals, your grounds for hoping acceptance in the sight of God raay fail you. Self alone will never carry you above yourself; whereas itis not the gratification of so narrow a passion, nor the enjoyment of so poor a being, that you are to aim at, but the gratification ofa love as boundless as that God, and those heavenly hosts which are its proper objects. But to come down again to our immediate subject, un less your heart is really warmed with love towards your enemies, it cannot hope to be proof against new and, re peated provocations ; you cannot be long indiffereiit. If you do not love, you will hate ; and ' he that hateth,' as the Spirit tells us by St. John, ' is a murderer.' There is no expecting forgiveness and. good offices, that fruit so infi nitely wholesome to the peace of Christ's church, and so infinitely delicious to the taste of God, but from its own LXIV.J Christ's church. 241 proper tree ; and what that is, Christ hath told you in these words, ' love your eneraies.' To sum up all, you cannot be a member of Christ, who healed, who prayed for, who blessed his persecutors ; nor a child of God, who is kind unto the unthankful and the evil ; nor consequently can you be with God and Christ for ever, if you do not iraitate God, if you do not obey Christ, if you do not love your enemies. This being as plain and true, as the word of God, or the gospel of Christ, can make any thing, we ought to know, First, who are our enemies in the sense of the precept ; Secondly, whafc ifc is to love them according to the pur port of that precept ; And, thirdly, how we may bring ourselves to this love. In the first place, all are not our enemies whom we are apt to mistake for such. He who reproves our follies, or thwarts our bad designs, or corrects us for our faults, is our friend; and not to love hira for so doing, is to be our own eneray. Neither are those to be looked on as enemies who pro secute us for, or give evidence of, our crimes before a court of justice. This they do as friends to civil society, as lovers of truth and right ; and to regard thera for it as our enemies, is to declare war wifch raankind and common justice. Farther, they are not always to be set down in the cata logue of our eneraies, at least in our Saviour's sense, who speak ill of us, or do us injuries, for perhaps we have fur nished occasion to the unfavourable report, or given pro vocation to the unkind treatraent. In all cases we only hate where we lay the blarae. To do otherwise, is to act like idiots. Now, here we are to blame ourselves, and should hate ourselves, had we only the low degree of mo desty to think we may do wrong ; or of impartiality, to find, we liave done wrong, when every body else per ceives it. Neither do they rank themselves properly, and in our Saviour's sense, among our enemies, who think ill of us, or treat us but indifferently, through mere mistake. Our con sciences tell us, they take us for quite other persons than we really are, and that perhaps on such appearances, thrown VOL. III. E 242 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. out by our own indiscretion, as we ourselves always yield to in the like cases. They strike in the dark at soraewhat too like us, but not at us ; and shall we return the blow, or hate thera for their error, without confessing, that we act like brutes rather than rational creatures ? None of these are our eneraies in Christ's sense, but our neighbours and brethren, whora, as such, we are to love on the footing of common charity, if not of coramon justice. No, our eneraies, whom in the text we are comraanded to love, are they ' who hate us without cause,' or rather, without the appearance of a just cause, and who have given the infallible signs of that hatred in acts of injustice or cruelty, perhaps for doing good, and even possibly to them selves. Such were the eneraies of Christ and his apostles, whom nevertheless they loved, blessed, prayed for, and per severed in doing good to. That these are the enemies our Saviour comraands us to love, is plain, not only from his representing them as ' cursing, hating, despitefully using, and persecuting us ;' but from his comparing thera with the eneraies of God, who fight against his goodness with their wickedness. These being the raen whora the text comraands us to love, we ought, in the second place, to consider what it is to love thera according to the purport of the precept. Our Saviour's exaraple, in this case, as well as in most others, is the best coraraent on his law. He, we know, so loved his eneraies, as to bear every thing at their hands, to do thera the raost kind and affectionate offices on all occasions, and fco lay down his life for thera at last, in order, if possible, to save them frora eternal raisery. Could we, by our death, so save the souls of our ene mies, the charity prescribed in ray text, would undoubtedly require it of us ; nor would it, by any raeans, require too much ; for whatis the offering of our lives for the salvation of others, but the offering of a trifle, on coraparison, not our own, but the property of God, in order to confer an infinite benefit on our fellow creatures ? What is our death, who otherwise must soon die however, as criminals, not martyrs, to the eternal death of one who shares the same nature with us ! How far is this short of the charity of St. Paul, who de clared with an oath ' that he could wish to be accursed from LXIV.J Christ's church. 243 Christ for the Israelites,' whora he calls ' his brethren and kinsraen according to the flesh,' though they were hardened nnbelievers, and bitter enemies both to Christ and him ! As, however, we are not called to such proofs of our love, even for our friends, I instance these things only to shew tiie degree ofthat love which is required of us towards our enemies. It does not follow nevertheless, that we are to love them as warmly as our friends and benefactors. We should be ready to lay down our lives for the brethren, though no more than their temporal safety and happiness were to be gained by the sacrifice. With the wicked, the treacherous, and malicious, we are not obliged to consort, as we do with well- hearted men. They would destroy us for the mere pleasure of doing mischief; whereas it is our duty to preserve our selves for that good, which God, the church and our country have reason to expect from us. Were there, indeed, any probability of reclairaing raen so unhappily minded, we ought to run all hazards, we ought to venture into the fire of their own raging passions, and even of God's wrath, which surrounds them, in order to pull them out. There is a possibility, that the inferior heats of their pride and anger may be extinguished in the prevailing sun-shine of our charity. You observe, I speak not here of forgiveness, an easy duty, that raay be performed on a selfish principle ; but of doing good with a kind intention. To bless men we do not love, and to good to do them, is acting against the grain of our own hearts, and too much forced to last ; and to pray fof them with affections cold and indifferent to them, is both contrary to the nature of prayer (which to be successful ought to be ardent), and a mockery of God. Having hitherto inquired only what sort of enemies they are whom we ought to love, and in what sense or degree it is that we are to love them ; the duty appears to flesh and blood, in the best natures, exceedingly difficult, and, in the worst, impossible. ' What ! to require it of man, weak, proud, passionate, and resentful man, not only that he should forgive, but do good for evil ; and not only that e should do good for evil, but do it out of love ! love so very tender and ardent, as, in some cases, to exceed even the K 2 244 the pinnacle of [disc, love of life ! and to themost odious of raen ! This is against nature, and raen must be raade over again before they can digest it.' True, raost true indeed. But was not the gospel given to change our nature, and raake us over again into new creatures ? Do you hope to enter into heaven with that very nature about you, wbich threw the devil out of it ? It would be rauch easier to clirab thither with your body, gross as it is. No, this proud, revengeful, stubborn nature must be subdued ; and a humble, a forgiving, a benevolent nature must be acquired in its place, or the corapany of angels, and the enjoyment of God for ever, must be given up. ' Hea ven,' it is true, ' is taken by violence,' but by violence done to our own stubborn and refractory nature, not to the con ditions of our covenant, nor the coraraands of Christ. How then, in the flast place, shall we bring ourselves to this love of our enemies ? How shall we raise our groveling hearts to so high humility ? Before we enter on the expedients requisite for this pur pose, it will be proper to observe, that nothing is more com-- raon than to feel contrary passions struggling for raastery in the sarae breast, and afc the sarae time. How offcen is a father angry with a child whora be loves ? and where is that anger which hafch nofc sorae mixfcure of hafcred in ifc? The brethren of Joseph were not wifchout a degree of natural affection for him, when, through envy, they entertained a thought of put ting hira to death, as is plain frora their relenting after ward, and selling him to the Ishmaelites. , It frequently happens that ' a man's foes are they of his own houshold,' his father, his son; and no foe can be so dangerous, because he cannot help loving thera. One man naturally loves an other, and if they are countrymen, neighbours, cr fellow- Christians, the love is still the stronger. This, however, does not always hinder them from occasionally hating one another. Now, it is in the power of every considerate man to increase this love, or hatred, and to lessen and stifle the opposifce fcurn of mind, by banishing from his thoughts the incentives of the one, and by dwelling on the raotives to the other. A man may call down angels, or conjure up devils, in his own heart : wbich he should choose to do, let reason judge. LXIV.J Christ's church. 245 If we would cherish the love of our fellow-creatures and fellow-Christians in our breast, howsoever injurious they may have been to us, we must, in the first place, ear nestly desire and wish for this amiable disposition. There is but little time, and indeed, but little difference, between the eamest desire, and the actual acquisition of any Chris tian grace. Nothing comes. between, but a veheraent en deavour, and the assistance of God's spirit. The heart na turally forms itself to that figure and fcurn, which ifc sfcrongly wishes to cultivate ; and if it is such a figure as God hath prescribed, he never fails to put his creating hand to a work so pleasing in his sight. Now, to excite in us this earnest, and prorapt us to this veheraent endeavour, nothing farther is required, than a due consideration of the necessity we are under of raising ourselves to the love enjoined by the text, as laid before you in whafc hath been already said. In proporfcion to the strength of this desire, it will be so much the easier, first, to conquer our resentments, and then to replace them with the love required. As to the conquest of our resentments, nothing will so properly begin the work as taking down our pride, and la bouring to reduce our minds to a true Christian humility. In most cases, anger, which suppresses the natural and re ligious love we bear to all men, proceeds from pride alone, and in the rest, when the attack is not directly made on our honour, we are too apt to think it more or less concerned, and to give ita vote in our revenge. Here we should review the long and mortifying catalogue of infirmities or sins on record in our consciences, that we may be sensible how little of honour or esteera is really due to us, or could be reasonably clairaed by us, were the shameful truth known as well to the world, as it is to our selves. And though, on looking inward, where we are but partial and imperfect judges, we should come out some what magnified in our own conceit, this ought to be no rule to others, who knpw not the dignity of our personages. Were the act of conterapt, whatever it is, iraraediately thrown on us by the hand of God, so far frora storaaching or complaining, we should confess it but a share of what we deserve. Now, it is really, though not immediately, in flicted by that providential hand, which often makes men. 246 the pinnacle of [disc. « sometimes the meanest of raen, its insfcruments ' to pour contempt even on princes,' and therefore to resent it, is in directly to fly in the face of God. In no case, not so much as even in thought, should we ever assume to ourselves more raerit, or raore iraportance than we are sure we have in his sight, who knows us per fectly. To do otherwise, is to usurp, and that by deceit and hypocrisy, on the opinion of the ignorant, wherein there is, indeed, somewhat so very base and low, that it is a wonder how any one guilty of it, can possibly entertain a high thought of himself. Of all our sins, the presumptuous are the most offensive in the sight of God, David prays ' to be kept back from thera,' that he raay be ' innocent from the great transgres sion,' for which there was no sacrifice allowed in the law. Presuraption, and pride, the true parent of presuraption, were the chief ingredients in the unpardonable sin. Almost all our sins, especially when we sin against light and the reproofs of our own consciences, partake, more or less, of this fearful aggravation. Consider now, what there is, or can be, in you, so likely to make amends for your past pride and presumption, as the opposite virtues of huraility and self-raortification. Could you enter thoroughly into this thought, you would lick the feet of an insulting enemy, with more pleasure than you ever tasted, during your whole life, in the sweetest act of revenge. The second expedient to quell our resentments which stifle, for fche tirae, our love of mankind, is through the eye of sound experience and faith, to examine the value of those things, about which we quarrel with one another, such as our worldly interests, our credit among a few neighbours, our points of ceremony and precedence, matters of no great moraent in themselves, and trifles, too contemptible for chil dren to contend about, if compared to the infinitely greater things, wherein, as Christians, we are concerned. Let a Christian ask himself, whefcher it becoraes a candidate for heaven, for a crown of endless glory, to be angry about a pin. It may shock, but it raust be said, that our bitter and implacable resentraents aboufc earthly fchinga, thoroughly refute, and render even ridiculous, all our professions of Christianity. Do not say you are a Christian, if yow have LXIV.J Christ's church. 247 not ' reraoved your affection from things on earth, and set it on things above ;' neither presume to call yourself a ra tional creature, in case your professions and actions are raore at variance than you and your eneraies. Take care, you are not your own bitterest enemy. ' He that hateth his brother is indarkness, and walketh in darkness, and knoweth not whither he goeth, because that darkness hath blinded his eyes. Whosoever hateth his brother, is a murderer,' hath the spirit of a murderer, and ' we know that no mur derer hath eternal life abiding in him.' Is then the very principle of eternal life destroyed in you by your anger and hatred? And for what? Could you admit thelight, and see that which you are in danger of losing for ever, the cause of your hatred would be too minute to be visible. The third expedient for the reduction, if not the preven tion, of our resentments, is, to stay, ere our passion is suf fered to boil over in retaliation, and weigh the injury coolly in the balance of that reason God hath given us. in order to find out how far it ought to be deemed an injury, indeed, whether it is really an injury or not. Men frequently nou rish in the depths of a festering heart, the most malignant resentinents, which on better lights, on cooler reflections by theraselves, or on sorae after explanation with the other party, they find utterly groundless, and built only on the air of their own suspicions, or on that which hath issued from the poisoned mouths of mischief-makers. As to our own suspicions or apprehensions of an injury, they will, if we do not take care to prevent it, be so realized and magnified by the imagination, that not even a repetition of provocations could raore effectually increase our resent raent. This infirraity of our minds we raay learn from ex perience as well as from the words of the wise man ; ' the beginning of anger is as when one lefcfcefch oufc water,' which, if ever so little way is raade for it, will quickly widen the passage, and pour out with redoubled force, till it becoraes as difficult to stop ifc, as to gather it up again or reCal it. Here huraanity, charity, and reason should be called to our assistance, in order to make head against the growing pas sion in time. It is natural, but of most pernicious conse quence, to chafe our resentments by suffering the imagina- 248 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. tion to dwell on aggravating circumstances, or the tongue to run out in furious expressions, which greatly increase the inflammation, as the motion of the lion's tail is said to lash hira into rage. For this wild beast within us we have a chain always ready at hand, and that is, the pain and danger he never fails to bring along with him. What baleful light ning he darts frora our eyes ! How frightfully he distorts our faces ! How does he shake our limbs ! Yet these are but the faint signs, often restrained as rauch as possible by shame, of inexpressible agonies within. Now, is such thunder to the mind, such an earthquake to the body, such a volcano vomiting fire, and threatening destruction to every thing near it, to be encouraged and prolonged ? are pangs, not unlike these of the daraned, to be dwelt on, to be courted, to be pursued and aggravated, by a reasonable creature ? No, you will say, but anger, when violenfcly provoked, breaks out like thunder, too suddenly to be checked. And I answer, its sallies do nofc prevenfc its agonies. They corae together, and the one should instantly be applied as a cure for the other. The liver of this raental raad dog, should be taken with the soonest, as an antidote against the poison of his bite. But supposing the resentment should be kindled only by tatlers and mischief-makers, who, for ends best known to themselves, have given the devil vacation, and undertaken for hira this his raost envenomed office ; less consideration and caution will be required to quench it. Were anger ever excusable, these intentional brokers of raischief, of all hu man monsters, would be its mosfc justifiable objecfcs; and indeed, of all ofchers, sooner or later, they are the most apt to get a scorch frora the over-boiling of the furnace, who are eraployed in the manageraent ofthe bellows. Few disturb ances arise araong neighbours, which derive not either their original from the invention, or the greater part of their raa lignity from the malicious arts of these meddlers. ' Where there is no wood, the fire goeth out;' so where there is no ' tale-bearer, the strife ceaseth.' As it is the listener who makes the tatier, it is irapossible to account for his anger any other way, but by setting hira down in the list of those fools, who, industrious to cut out raischief for theraselves. LXIV.J Christ's church. 24& retain a liar to regale their ears with fi'ctitious causes of re sentraent, when mankind are grown too fond of peace, jus tice, and another's reputation truly, to furnish real ones. In case however we have unhappily given way so far to the real or apparent motives of resentraent, as to speak or act in a vindictive manner, and this hath provoked our enemy to new insults or injuries ; we ought to deduct all such injuries ; subsequent to our first act of revenge, from our apprehended cause of quarrel, and charge ifc to the ac count of our own indiscretion, pride and unchristion turn of mind. The original injury done us was probably but a small one ; this we repaid with interest; and that, our ad versary hath retaliated with soraewhat, in our opinion, too grievous to be forgiven. See what a fire is blown up out of a spark which a -sraall kindness, or only a silent forgive ness, raight have quenched, Supposing the adversary, as here I do, to have begun the mischief, Christianity, which owns no distinction between the aggressor and avenger in point of guilt, ought long ago, to have put a stop to its pro gress, by that love in every raan for every man, which no thing but passions, too outrageous for religion or nature to tolerate, can ever deface. In the last place, we should do well to consider, that we have a coraraon eneray, whose perpetual study ifc is, to ex punge frora our rainds the beautiful iraage of God, who is love ; and to erect, in its stead, his own hideous and horrible image, made up of infernal hatred and malice. Our anger is but his engine, vomiting destruction at others, and recoil ing with deadly force on ourselves. What else is his design, but to dash us one agaiust another till a miserable ship wreck is made of peace, charity, and all our hopes? To this work he halloo's the foolish part of mankind, as idle people do their dogs on one anofcher, for sporfc ; and, so infinifcely ridiculous it is, that sport it raight be to raen, as well as de vils, were the ill effects to end with this life. In the raidst of your anger at your neighbour, who does you an injury, stay to consider coolly, whether God raay not be angry with you for your greater provocations ; and in consequence of that anger, may not have left this man loose upon you for a punishment, or rather perhaps for a trial, whereon is to de pend your being forgiven, if you forgive ; and even blessed. 250 THE pinnacle OF [disc. if you bless. Should this be the case, as possibly it may, you will find, that you yourself are your own eneray, that you have been the first raover of the injury you resent, and therefore should resent it againsl yourself in fear and trem bling, not in anger against your neighbour. While there fore you have the tempter and yourself to be angry with, and God to fear, how can you give way to resentment against your weak brother, who is only the unhappy instrument of that suffering, which you have brought upon yourself? Who, but a fool, would stay to quarrel with one enemy for sorae petty injury done him in his character or fortune, wha had to deal with two other enemies in an actual attack upon his life ? Having by reflections like these exercised frora your heart the dseraon of anger, it will be the easier task to fill the vacancy with a spirit of a better nature, and infinitely raore pleasing to yourself. If the rigour of your resentraent is relaxed, peace hath, no doubt, taken its place, and is ready to introduce to your now mollified and unruffled thoughts, her beautiful attendant, pity. And can you any where find a raore raoving object of your pity, than that raan who is your eneray without cause? His healfch, prosperity, and insolence, raay impose upon you, and prevent your thinking hira miserable. But hatred vented in iniquity and injury, is misery, is a corrod ing distemper, that cannot be cured without poison, that is, without doing mischief, which is poison to the soul of tiie doer. Ifyou exaraine him'through the eye of faith, which strips every thing of its worldly disguises, you will see him betrayed by his bad principles, tom by his ungovernable passions, and tortured with the stings of his guilty con science ; possessed by one of the most malevolent and ran corous devils; an object of God's indignation; and made over, if a woful repentance do not save him, to raiseries in finitely raore frightful, than those he already feels. Can you see a soul in this condition without pity ? If you can, you would not be grieved to see hira in the torraents of hell. You startle ! and good reason. Yet your eneray actually suffers a share of those torraents, and is hastening to a full comple tion of them. Does it not increase your pity, now tbat you are no longer angry, and add the compassionate fears of a LXIV.J Christ's church. 251 man and a Christian, to think, that you, though innocent, are unhappily the occasion of all this ? That shudder you feel at the raention of his being damned on your account, shews you, all along, loved him, and wanted only your cora passion to rouse your humanity and affection. What can your enemy do to you ? He ' can only kill your body,' and probably wishes not to be so cruel ; but if he does, with the weapon he aims at that, he runs himself through the soul ; for the point next himself is infinitely more sharp and dead ly, than tiiat which he turns on you. If he is, in other re spects, a good raan, how does your heart melt for him ! and how does it trerable, in case the rest of his behaviour is of a piece with his treatment of you ! Allow him, however, some abatement of thein jury done you on account of ignorance, of the strong appearances of provocation on your part, and of those weaknesses in him, and all men, wbich you find, and laraent, in yourself. He is not your eneray, but because he is just such a one as you are. Having by this allowance, which you raust soraetimes claim, as well as give, increased your good-natured concern for him; proceed next to strip yourself of the prejudices and bad opinions of him, which you entertained in the time ofyour late resentment. Go farther still, and do justice in your own breast to his good qualities, for who is so bad, as to have none ? Perhaps he is, this instance only excepted, a good and amiable man. It may be, he was formerly your friend, nay, in sorae degree your benefactor. Ifyou are not very unreasonable, you will listen to the good things others say of him, and if you are not extremely partial, you will by no raeans judge of the whole raan by that part of his con duct, which relates only to yourself. You will not suffer it to be said, that you have a raemory only for mischief. But though he should not have been heretofore at any time your friend, perhaps hereafter he may, by receiving good only at your hands, for evil, and kindness for mistaken hatred, becorae the most zealous and useful ofall your friends. We have instances of converted eneraies, who have loved in proportion to their forraer hatred, and to the generosity, which made the change. ' Our Saviour hath observed, that ' he is apt to love most, who hath been pardoned most ;' and 252 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. he means, when there is natural goodness oftemper to work on. The pasionate, through an extraordinary redundance of warmth, are usually the most injurious, and as usually the most generous. It is worth your while to suppose your enemy to be of this cast, at least for sometime, till you can make an experiraent on hira, whether or no, the furnace of your charity and love raay not melt hira down into gratitude and affection for you. 'Heap the coals on his head,' and try him in that heavenly fire which God hath kindled up in your heart by the best of all religions. On this charitable, perhaps highly rational supposition, you may entertain a certain degree of regard for him, or at least for what he may be. Do hira the justice that a statuary does to a block of raarble, wherein, rude and misshapen as it is, he sees the figure of an angel, and actually brings it out, but not with out great labour, and the touches of a very delicate hand in paring away the rugged and superfluous parts, those parts, which raight, at first, have hurt him, when he began to roll the unwieldly raass. As you have ceased to resent, and began to pity, these two farther steps raay help to improve fchafc pifcy into some low degree of esteera and affection. This affection may be carried a little farther by consi-' dering your enemy as the instrument of Providence, where with the great interests of your soul, and the solid glory you aim at, are raore effectually proraoted, than they can be by all the kindness of your friends. Neither your own estimate of yourself, which raay be a little too favourable ; nor the reproofs of your friend, which, through a tenderness too comraon, raay touch but the surface ofyour faults, will teach you so well how to judge of your own infirmities, as the censures of an enemy, who will not spare, who will not fail to search every open you give hira to the quick. It is high tirae for you to watch sharply over your own conduct, when you know fche eye of raalice is upon you, wishing for an opporfcunity to take advantage, and at once, to rejoice over you, ' and magnify itself against you.' But, what is more than all this, it is your eneray only, who can put it in your power to forgive, to reward hatred with love, to do good for evil, and so to wipe out tbe dreadful score that is against you in the book of God. LXIV.J Christ's church. 253 Although therefore he is far from intending you any kindness, yet as he is become your watchraan, your raoni tor, and, ifyou do not yourself hinder him, the greatest promoter, araong men, I mean, and that at his own expense, of the noblest Christian graces in your mind, and conse quently of your eternal happiness and glory ; you ought to consider hira in the light of an involuntary benefactor, as the step next heaven in Jacob's ladder ; and while, in a triuraph of joy, you prepare to set your foot on it, should kiss it as a raartyr does his stake, and pour the overflow ings of the love you owe to God, on this effectual, though unhappy, raedium of approach to him. Consider again, if God created, and Christ died for, and united your eneray to hiraself, as well as you, whether you can call yourself a Christian, till your love of Christ ex tends itself to this his raeraber. Do you hope, tbat the righteousness of Christ should atone to divine justice for your transgressions, and make you an object of love to God, ifyou will not allow thafc righteousness to atone with you for the transgressions of your brother, and make him an object of your love ? Is he not a meraber of Christ? Can you love the head, and not love the raembers also ? Are not you, your eneray, and we all, ' one body of Christ ?' Is it not love alone that unites us 1 Love to the head and the whole body ? And if it is, is he not cut off from that body, who hath not this love ? If no other arguraent can prevail on you to love your eneray, love him for the sake of Christ, in whose unbounded love to you both, all sense of his unkindness ought to be lost ; and in its place, the sweet, the tender, the loving spirit of Christ kindled up within you towards this invader of what ? Why, of that property you hold only by perraission; or of that honour you have no real title to ; or' of that life no constitutional health can ensure you for a single moment. If the comraands, if the merits of Christ, weigh more with you than the injuries of men, you will forgive, you will pity, you will love your eneray, whom that blessed redeemer is yet perhaps ready to receive, in case you will grant his pardon, admit hira to your heart, and afford his weakness that assistance, which no other mortal hath it in his power to impart. Does the Sayiour of man, and the Son of God, wait for this step in 254 THE PINNACLE OF [dISC. you ? And can you delay a single moment to make it ? No, you have pronounced the pardon of your fellow-crea ture and fellow-Christian, and having thus past a compas sionate sentence on him, have, in the sight of infinite mercy confirmed the sentence on yourself. After having gone so far, you will be ready to hear and obey the farther directions of Christ, wbich cannot be too difficult for virtue so truly noble as yours. ' If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault be tween thee and him alone ; if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnessess every word may be established. And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church ; but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an hea then man and a publican.' Him, whora you call your eneray, Christ calls your bro ther, and desires you to go to him in the affectionate spirit of a brother, in order to a good-humoured examination of his behaviour to you. Look up therefore to the command and example of Christ. Pitch your soul far above the little pride of ceremony. Wait not a moment for forms, nor for the first step on your adversary's part, who, poor man ! is too weak to make any ; but armed with an obsti nate resolution ' to overcome evil with good,' and to per form what your blessed master commands, fly to him in the spirit of Christian humility and meekness ; tenderly, patiently expostulate with him on the grounds of his dis pleasure and its effects. Rafcher plead your own innocence, than harshly insist on his hatred or injustice ; convince him by the raost solemn protestations of your readiness to do him every good office in your power, and that you have no earthly interest, no point, but peace and love in view. The task assigned you is, I own, no easy one. But surely it is as pleasant as itis difficult. If your resolution should begin to stagger, think of that pleasure, and remember, you have already so far conquered your pride and passion, as to pity and love your adversary. Remember the glorious purpose ofyour overture. Remember, you go in fhe name, at the command, 9,nd by the example, of Christ. Remem ber, you are the hero and charapion of his cause against LXIV.J Christ's, church. 255 that of perverseness and malice ; and going not to a ball, but a battle, wherein humility is to encounter with pride, and a steady gentleness with perhaps outrageous sallies of brutality. 'Remember, the more he chafes, the more he hardens himself against reason, the raore glorious will be your victory over hira, or at least over yourself, and the coramon enemy of you both, in case you act up to the dig nity of the Christian character. Let no fury nor fierceness of his shake your resolution, nor drive these considerations for a moment, from your view. Arm your soul with pa tience, with pity, wifch love; suraraon all fche vigour of your religion to your assistance. Receive every unkind thing he says on the woolpack ofa soft answer, which may turn away or deaden his wrath, though coraing from his, as from the raouth ofa cannon. Let your pity and love spread theraselves over your face in tender looks, and infuse honey into all your words. A carriage so soothing, managed with proper address in giving way, or bearing up, as occasion points your course, is too rauch to be resisted by any one, not absolutely lost to nature. If you pursue your purpose with perseverance, as one who loves, and not as one who undertakes a task ; and if you pray earnestly to God for his assistance, you will pro bably gain your brother, not only to yourself, but to God ; or, in case you do not, one thing you cannot fail of, and that is, God's high approbation of your great attempt. It may be reasonably questioned, whether his all-seeing eye beholds any thing in this world so pleasing to him. But if all this should prove ineffectual, and, as our Saviour saith, your poor obstinate brother will not hear you, then take with you one or two raore of those coramon friends, whom he most regards, and try whether he will hear that reason, and .those expressions of your love, from them, which he is so deaf to in your mouth. These men, though no orators, will say more in three words, than you, had you the tongue of an angel, can do in ten thousand. Every thing however that passes between you, being evi denced and established by the report of these friends, as competent witnesses, will, at worst, justify your character, and give you all the advantage you can desire in the next step to be raade, if this proves unsuccessful, which is. 256 THE pinnacle of [disc. To ' tell it unto the church,' and so leave it with those whose office it is to impart or refuse the coramunion of Christ and his body. But in case ' he shall neglect to hear the church,' and shall despise the interposition of Christ and his raembers ; then ' let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican,' as one with whom you can, no longer, have any brotherly or Christian intercourse. Nevertheless, after all, you are not allowed to challenge hira into the field. You raay shun, but not shoot him, for you are not at liberty to put every heathen or publican to death, wherever you can find hira. Supposing, however, fchat in any of these steps you do go home to his heart and prevail, which it is most highly probable you will, the love of him, which you could not, ere this, perfectly bring your heart to, will now be the pleasing consequence. Your eneray will henceforward be your friend ; and as it was, in sorae measure, goodness of heart in hira, not unlike your own, tbat won bira, one of your raost faithful and affectionate friends. That man, whora lately you could hardly help representing to yourself as a raonster, is now a good raan, and loves you as he does his own life. Mark the sudden redness on his face ! the eager shaking of his arras ! when he runs to embrace you. Did you ever taste such pleasure ? Indulge it in another, and a yet more affecting light. Your poor Christian bro ther, who was, some hours ago, in ' the gall of bitterness, in the bond of iniquity,' in the jaws ofthe great devourer, is now set at liberty, is now re-united to Christ and you, and that by an act of yours, so truly glorious in itself, so exquisitely sweet on reflection to your good-natured heart, and what is still raore, so singularly acceptable to the God of peace and love, that we raay safely pronounce you a greater conqueror than Csesar, and an happy man ; for by one high effort of goodness you have wiped out the account of all your sins, and saved the soul of your brother alive, for which all good men love you, for which God loves you, for which heaven rings with a loud hallelujah. Is revenge so sweet? The rage, with which one at enmity with his brother, turns on the assailant of that bro ther ; and the warm embrace with which they meet in foreign countries, who hated each other at home; shew, that a LXIV.J Christ's church. 257 considerable degree of love raay lie a long time dormant under a quarrel, and concealed even from the heart it warms. It is this which breaks forth in such tears of tenderness, and transports of joy, on a thorough reconciliation of well- hearted enemies, as no enjoyment of our nearest relations, or most beloved friends can produce. And are we not all ' brothers, all strangers and pilgrims' in this world ? Why then do we not fight for one another against the common enemy ? Why do we not fiy into each other's arms, on the first reflection after a quarrel ? Can a raere accident of seeing a brother assaulted, or of raeeting our adversary in a distant country, as if our love and hatred were only local, do more than the love of Christ, than obe dience to his law, than the whole of our religion, in the breast of a Christian ? of a Christian who owns that every other Christian is by nature ' bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh ;' and by the baptism, the gospel, the charity of Christ, soul of his soul, and spirit ofhis spirit? Oh! it is too shameful a reproach to our professions, and to the narae we borrow from the most benevolent of all beings, to be endured so rauch as in thought. Lefc us renounce Christianifcy, before we begin to hate, or cease to love -a Christian. O good God, the God of peace and love, teach us, we beseech thee, to know that thy speaking peace to us, and receiving us as thy beloved children at the last day, depends on our speaking peace and shewing love to one another, as our brethren. Teach both our understandings and hearts this lovely, this important lesson, for the sake of Christ Jesus, the mediator of our peace, with thee ; fco whora, in the unity of the ever blessed and glorious Trinity, be all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for ever^ more. Amen. vol. hi. 258 THE good few require [di.sc. DISCOURSE LXV. THE GOOD FEW REQUIRE BUT A NARROW ROAD. Matthew v. 16. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. To all his disciples throughout all ages and countries, did our blessed raaster deHver this iniraitable serraon, from whence the words, repeated to you, are taken. If this par ticular precept was raore especially intended for the future preachers of the gospel (as yefc fchere were none such ap-. pointed) the sarae raay be said of all his other general pre cepts, wherein the hearers are not expressly distinguished frora their teachers. All are ' to repent, to bring forth fruit raeet for repentance, to believe, to have charity, to be poor in spirit, to be meek and raerciful, to be peace-makers, to be pure in heart, to hunger and thirst after righteousness ;' but the clergy more than others. It is true of all Christians, that ' they are the salt of the earth, and the light of the world ;' but ifc is, no doubfc, with reason expecfced, fchafc they, from wbom this salt and light are to be received by others, should be higher seasoned, and" more thoroughly illumi nated, than the generality of those they preach to. The same, in a great measure, is to be expected from all those, who, though not called to the rainistry, have had the advantage of a liberal education, have been entrusted with the distinguished talents of rauch knowledge, large fortunes, and high stations in the world; and by Providence, the pro prietor of all these, called to be his stewards, and the go vernors, leaders, and patterns of raankind. Nay, the precept extends itself down to the lowest ranks of Christians, tothe master who works on a loom, to the father who labours with a spade, to every the poorest and raost illiterate Christian, on whora the light of the gospel hath shone, although through the darkest cloud ; for even these may let an unbe- LXV.J" BUT A NARROW ROAD. • 259 liever see, how rauch raore raay be done by a little faith, than by all the vain philosophy of this world. As to the sense of the precept, ifc is plainly fchis. Let all your discourses, conversations, writings, carry with thera a portion of the light you have received. Let fchera be sea soned by fche spirit, enlivened by the warmth, and brightened by the beams, of ' Christ who is your light.' Do not osten. tatiously set off this light, but give it leave to sparkle, as through a heart of purest crystal in the eyes of all your ac quaintances, that by it they raay see what you are within, and comparing your outward actions or works, with the light or doctrine, that breaks forth with so rauch lustre from your well-instructed raind, may perceive a close con formity between them. The effect of this will be, fchat pleased with a heart so purified, so refined by the Spirit of God; and edified by a life so justly regulated according to his holy will, they must love you, adore your heavenly Fa ther, who hath begotten you in his own likeness, and re-" solve to follow you, both in principle and practice, to that glorious sun, whose' rays you drink in and transfuse into flowers of a ravishing scent and hue, and fruits of a raost delicious taste, fruits frora the tree of life. You see now in the sense of this incoraparable precept, what good you raay do to mankind, what service and glory you may render to God, without stepping a hair's breadfch oufc ofyour own way, or so muchas infcendingany thing but your duty, and the pursuit ofyour own happiness. Great as the force or beauty of such an example is in itself, it will be doubled, when compared vvith that of hira ' who walketh in darkness,' whose life, at b^st, is given up to folly, but generally to so even a raixture ofthat and wick edness, as makes it irapossible to judge, whether he calcu lates worse for time or eternity, and whether he is more to be pitied for a raad self-murder ofhis own unhappy soul, or abhorred for the havock he makes every where about him among fche miserable parfcners of his criraes, and fche despi cable copiers bf his excesses. He so spreads his darkness before, and over ofcher men, that they cannot see his bad works, or if they do, see them only in such a disguise, as procures an imitation, and serves to please and glorify their coraraon father which is in hell. Foul as this original is, it s2 ' 260 THE GOOD FEW RETQUIRE [dISC. is oftener copied, than the fairer one of piety and virtue, because every clurasy bungler can daub a likeness of vice, which is in itself a caricatura; but to hit off a just resem blance to the beauty of holiness, as exemplified in the life of a genuine Christian, a judicious and steady execution is required. As a good and bad life are built on very different foundations, this on a corrupt nature, and that, on principles of true religion ; so they work, by way of example, with most power on minds of a like fcurn fco those frora whence they are originally displayed. Where principle hath taken place, good exaraples ; where corruption prevails, bad ones, strike in with alraost irresistible force. Their efficacy, however, is not inconsiderable, when exerted the contrary way. Good examples, if sufficiently numerous and illustrious, frequently make converts araong the raost degenerate slaves to vice ; and bad examples still more frequently overpower the prin ciples ofreligion in good rainds, and seduce thera first to a desire of tasting the forbidden fruit, and then of raaking a meal on it every day. It is in this last light, that example should be considered, as a matter of the utmost consequence. Did example go no farther, than to raake good men better, and bad raen worse, this alone would be enough to give it a very high degree of iraportance. But when its power is found to be so great, as to change the natures, or stifle the principles of raen,it must surely raerit the closest attention of every thinking mind, especially as every one is more or less exeraplary, whether he intends it or not, and therefore raore accountable by far for what others shall think of him, than most raen are will ing to conceive. All men are naturally weak, and stand perpetually in need either of forbearance or assistance from other men. Each therefore is answerable for all the good be raight have done to others, and did not ; and for all the raischief he hath done thera, when it was in his power to avoid it, whefcher he intended them any injury or not. Now, if a man may do a great deal of ^ood or hurt to others by his example, which experience shews us he raay, as well as by his tongue or hands ; so far as the opinions conceived of him by bis neighbours are founded on his real conduct, so far is he accountable for those opinions. If a raan is weak in -giving way to a bad example, so is he likewise in not LXV.J BUT A NARROW ROAD. 261 having a skin tough and hard enough to defend hira from the push of a sword, or the impression ofa bullet; and he that carelessly shoots him raight as well blarae hira for being vulnerable, as he that seduces him by a bad example, for not being proof against its infection. Nay, he who does not encourage the virtue of his neighbours by a good exam ple, should be classed with him who refuses them a little food, without which he knows they must starve. None, but such as are unacquainted with huraan nature in regard to its surprising proneness to iraitation, will think I overstrain the importance of an example, either as to his duty who sets, or his virtue who is affected-by it. Imitation, in many instances, perhaps in all, to a certain degree, is me chanical and involuntary, as may appear by the propagation ofa yawn, by the effects of iraagination in pregnant woraen, by the sirailitude of faces observable in people of the same nation, and by the likeness we insensibly contract to those we live and converse much with, in looks, gestures, and ac cents. There are not a few of us, who like fche rairaick bird, thafc,' wifchout any note of its own, sings or chatters only what it hears frora others, seera to have scarcely any peculiar pro perties, but, as it were, to borrow themselves from those of one knows not how raany contributors. These breathing pictures, or walking statues, would be saints if they con versed with saints; and would deserve nothing but the gal lows, were they to spend their days with profligates. If there is in our nature so strong an inclination to rairaickry. when we do not at all intend it, that inclination must, no doubt, work with double force, as often as, through vanity or a desire of excelling, we set ourselves to copy what we admire in others. But whether our disposition to imitation is merely rae chanical, as it is in that awkwardness we cannot help con tracting in a long acquaintance and familiarity with people of no breeding; or intended, as in that genteel and easy carriage, which we endeavour to learn by accommodating ourselves to the air and raanner of the polite, it is certain, all imitation begins in the nfind, and works with the great est force, when a morally good or evil action is copied, be cause, in this case, either the infinite motive of religion onthe one side, or the most violent of ourpassions on the other, lend 262 THE GOOD FEW REQUIRE [dLSC. their strength, as that of so many additional springs, to the power of iraitation. Tlie habits of individuals, and the custoras or fashions ¦that prevail in, and characterise whole nations, are all the effect of example, be it wisdom or folly, virtue or vice, de sign or whim, that gave birth to that exaraple in the first ¦setters. A raan hath, in a manner, his whole conduct pre scribed to him by precedents set hira, either in his former actions, or in those ofhis acquaintances, especially themost erainent. Perhaps I might safely say, the world is not so much governed by religion, laws, kings, and other raagis trates, as by the universal correspondence kept up between the exaraples of the great, which soon grow into fashions among the raany, -and the imitative disposition, so deeply rooted in all. Hence arises that distinction between the in habitants of two different countries in the same climate ; the one frugal, the other luxurious ; fche one polifce, fche other barbarous; the one brave, the other dastardly; which is called the national character. ' We are members one of another' in a civil, as well as in a religious sense ; so that, like blood, the produce of our food in the natural body, cus tora the effect of examples, circulates through all the parts of the spiritual and political, imparting the qualities of the whole to each lirab, and of each lirab tp the whole ; till all is assimilated and settled into one general habit, either sound or distempered, according to the tendency of the examples that prevail. Though example is generally on the side of folly and vice, yefc in ifcs own nature it is indifferent, and may he at tached to wisdom and virtue. Since then we are capable of doing one another so much good or hurt by our examples, we should be exceedingly watchful over all parts of our behaviour, not only as meu prudently attentive to our own happiness ; but as men also who mean not to surrender all pretensions to huraanity, to the love of our country, and to Christian charity, which, all of them, call aloud on us for the countenance of good ex amples, to support the piety ofthe church, the virtue of the state, and of course, the strength of the one in this, and the happiness ofthe other, in both worlds. If we consider what are the effects ofour conduct among LXV.] BUT A NARROM' ROAD. 263 those who no otherwise interfere vvith us, than barely by seeing how we act, we shall conclude, we owe thera the be nefit of a good exaraple, as ranch as we do any other debt. If by making our light to shine before them, we raay bring them to glorify our Father which is in heaven, nay, and guide thera by that light to hira and their own happiness, it raust undoubtedly be one of the most important duties we have in our power to perform, either towards God or man, to set the best exaraples we can. The sin therefore of set ting no example, is that of neglecting the cause of religion and virtue, of refusing to do our fellow-creatures the great est good in our power, which will cost us nothing, but what we must ofcherwise have done on our own account; and of standing neuter between God and his enemy. If so great is the crime ofa neuter, when God is a party, what must be that of declaring for his eneray by an example of folly and wickedness ! This is not stopping the tribute of honour and glory due to God out of tiie talents he hath en trusted us with, in order to add a proportionable weight to the good examples he intended we should set; but is turn ing all those talents, whether of understanding, wealth, power, or length of days, and the whole importance of fche exaraple arising frora fchence, direcfcly againsfc the honour of God; and furnishing the irreligious and the peevish with a teraptation to blaspheme his Providence for joining so much wealth and folly, so much power and wickedness together. What then, you will say, is to be done ? We see the consequences of setting mankind at liberty from the ties of religion, and know, that no other ties can prevent their running riot into rebellion, rapine, and misrule ; and we see also, that in case the upper class of mankind should shew a contempt for religion, the lower classes would soon get into the fashion, and becorae as errant atheists as their betters. We are fcherefore willing to go to church, and pay some respect to the religion of our country. Is this all you can do ? All, unless you would have us become hypo crites and dissemblers in a business of so sacred a nature. But, in the name of common sense, are you not dissemblers in going so far?' There is nofc only this objection against your conduct, that it subverts itself in the very principle, but two more of no less weighfc. Your going fco church is 264 THE GOOD FEW REQUIRE [dISC. either a good or a bad action. If it is a good one, then you do it with a bad intention, namely, to keep the popu lace in ignorance, that they may be governed by stricter rules of morality than you think fit yourselves to subrait to. If it is a bad action, and done only with a view to that peace and order which good raen, as well as you, wish to see established in the world, even upon mistaken principles, rather than on none ; then you do evil that good may come ofit; and I raust tell you, that, as sure as there is a God, such a conduct raust be extreraely offensive to him, because it is built on the reproachful and blasphemous belief, that the sins of dissiraulation and iraposture are necessary to the government of a world which he made ; and so made, as either not to need the interposition of his own wisdom, much less of your cunning, or as intended for a part ofhis providential empire, to the government of which, under alraighty wisdom, no arts borrowed from the author of deceifc can possibly, fco say no more, be requisite. But secondly, your method is liable to this farther objection, that appearances of this kind are never given, but by halves ; that they cannot long be kept up ; and that the vanity of boasting the discoveries you have raade to the dishonour of religion, the sensual desires, the covetous or ambitious designs, the violent passions, the inveterate habits, which opened your eyes to the weak side of Christianity, cannot be held within a disguise as feeble as it is flimsy. How long is it to be supposed, you will wear a mask, put on, much against the grain, for no immediate benefit of your own, and merely for the sake of keeping others in some order ; a consideration of no great weight even to the reason of one who can think religion so necessary, and yet so false ? Besides, this conduct, instead of doing any honour to religion, serves only to bring on it all the reproach due to the many enorraities of your infidel life, which, were you not mistaken for a Christian, must be ascribed to their real cause, your utter want of principles. This pretence of Christianity therefore, which so many now-a-days give into and defend with very specious arguments, is but a cunning piece of folly in some, and a double artifice in others, whereby they propose to throw the odiura of their actions LXV.J BUT A NARROW ROAD. 265 off that infidelity which encourages, on Christianity which cries aloud against, thera. The cause of Christ never stood in need of, and disdains, such aids, if aids they raay be called. No, let Christ have either sincere friends, or open enemies ; and let his religion stand on its own truth, or sink under its falsity, as the judge and guardian of truth shall determine. There is a great raajority of these, whose obscure cha racters and low situation in the world confine the influence of their exaraples to very narrow bounds. However, there is no raan so inconsiderable as never to be imitated. He must be too little to be seen, who is too little to be copied. Besides, the generality of iraifcators are short-sighted, and we know the eyes of all such are magnifiers. Sirailitude insensibly grows out of mere observation. Natural wit, beauty, bodily strength, personal peculiarity, and the most trifiing superiority in circumstances, excite observation, and with it a degree of respect, in the vales of human life, which those on its eminences look down upon, as sunk in one indistinct and promiscuous level. The poorest parent is an object of some veneration to his offspring, and conse quently of imitation, through which he propagates piety or irreligion, sobriety or drunkenness, honesty or knavery, as fast as he does children ; for children, as if all eye, are led by their sight into any thing that strikes that sense, espe cially in the behaviour of their parent, whora, as new comers, they are obliged to take for a guide in a world altogether strange to thera. How careful therefore ought he to be, who is surrounded with natural miraicks, perpe tually taking off his likeness in every action, and preparing to spread and hand down his raanners, as far in point of time and space, as his posterity shall extend themselves iu the world .•¦ Masters also, in respect to example, are a sort of second parents, and what their servants did not, or could not learn in their father's house, they perfect themselves in under the government of their raaster. They either have not been taught, or have not tirae, to read ; and therefore, as iraitation generally looks upward, they take the beha viour of their raaster for a suraraary of all that excellence in higher life, which they are so ambitious of copying after. Him they read, him they transcribe into themselves, 266 THE GOOD FEW REQUIRE [dISC. till their minds have pufc on his livery, as well as their bodies. A faraily is the most important seminary in the world, a nursery, wherein are formed all the merabers ofthe coraraunity, wherein every child of God, and every servant of the devil, receives the rudiraents of virtue or vice, and those infinitely raore by exaraple, which raakes the fashion, than by instruction, which is under its discountenance. All raankind are exemplary in a greater or less degree, but they raost whose fortune or station hath lifted them most into view, and set thera highest. They are seen far and near ; and such is the compliment paid, by the pre tended renouncers of this world, to its poraps and vanities, adraired as far as they are seen, and imitated as far as the narrower funds of their inferiors can stretch to. Their vices grow into virtues, and their virtues into heroism, as they descend on the observation of the herd. Piety and virtue, not only for their native dignity, hut for their great singularity, in a person of distinction, look nobly, and produce the mosfc happy effects araong his infe riors, discouraging the vices of the bad, and invigorating the virtues of fche good, whose laudable disposifcions seem to kindle at his ; so that, as if they were inspired by some preternatural irapulse, they improve on a spirit not their own, and act and live above themselves. Infidelity and wickedness in a person of distinction look nobly too, extinguishing the virtues and fomenting the vices of all beneath him. Privileged by his exaraple, the creature, who is as poor in pocket as he is in soul, sefcs up for grandeur, on a second-hand sneer afc religion, on his week of keeping, or his hour of gaming, till distress and despair drive him to that road, which terminates in the gal lows ; or, at best, till sober poverty degrades hira again to Christianity. The sower of tares enlarges those seeds iu the richer soil of a great fortune, from which otherwise he could not expect so plentiful a crop, on a change to hun grier grounds. There are several sorts of exotic vices that cannot be raised, bufc inthe hot-bed of wealth, title and figure, vvhich nevertheless thrive apace when transplanted thence into common earth. It is often a diverting, but it should be a shocking, sight to the great ones of the world, ^to see how their vices are mimicked by the littie ones, who. LXV.J BUT A NARROW ROAD. 267 influenced by fcheir examples, as if possessed by sorae de raon, run, regardless of all that decorum which gives a sort of grace to politer wickedness, into downright brutality and raadness. The great and powerful irapose what customs they please on the inferior part of the world. The examples of kings particularly, are more absolute than their commands. The court follows them ; the capital follows the court ; and the nation that, as fast as eager iraitation can snatch the fashion frora above ; till the raanners of the head are visible in the very feet. Even that religion which a people have thought of consequence enough to be fought for with the ufcraosfc bitterness, hath not been considered as too great a compliment to their princes. The ten tribes of the Israel ites that followed Jeroboam, followed him to his golden calves ; and, excepting a very few, continued in his ido latry, or sunk into worse, during all the reigns of his successors. The other two tribes went, most of them, into the religion or superstition of their kings, wdth a readiness at every change, that seems astonishing to one who knows not how few in any country really and sincerely give their hearts to religion. During the usurpation of these king doms, cant, enthusiasm, and hypocrisy took the place of Christianity in the great ones, and prevailed almost univer sally. In the reign immediately following, profaneness, atheism, and dissolution of manners, ran down from the throne to the lowest of the people so fast, and took so firra a possession as fchey wenfc, that the present debauchee and scoffer at religion may probably thank the court in that reign for his not being al this day a forraal hypocrite, or a sour enthusiast. How ought they to watch over their own behaviour, whose every action is raimicked by a raultitude, perhaps a nation ! How little are the raost ordinary actions of great men their own, when each of thera is attended with so long a train of happy or fatal effects upon the.people. The actions ofthe clergy are still less their own. They owe a good exaraple as a debt to Christ, whora they take upon thera to represent, and as a debt to their people, by whose labour they subsist. I say not this frora an opinion, that the people would iraitate them, were they saints of the .first magnitude to a man. No, they are too much hated 2G8 . THE GOOD FEW REQUIRE [di.SC. and despised, for reasons quite foreign to their moral cha racters, to be considered as objects of imitation. Besides, the people, I know not how, have got it into their heads. that the clergy are, or ought to be, creatures of a different species from theraselves, acting on principles, and bound to duties, so very foreign frora those which are to govern the rest of raankind, that iraitation, for want of a common footing to build on can here have no place. If one of us behaves hiraself pretty well, which in such fcimes, I fchink, is no small mafcter, lives soberly and raodestly, waits on his duty with perhaps a little raore than ordinary care ; our lay brethren look on it as nothing. Why, say they, is he not a clergyman ? Who thanks hira for being good ? and say it with such an air, as plainly shews, they do not think theraselves obliged to be sober, raodest, honest, by the sarae laws that bind their teachers ; or shews, at least, that they believe they do very well, if they are but half so good as the clergy, perhaps the worst of the clergy. 1 speak not of all the laiefcy. God be fchanked, fchere are here and there some of thera, who are fit to be patterns to the best of ns. But in case a clergyraan shall generally raisbehave him self, his exaraple instantly acquires a force exceeding that of the greatest king, so far as the sphere of his notoriety extends. His bad actions, although tenfold more odious in hira than they would be if done by another, are, by an astonishing juggle of thought, snapped at with the greatest pleasure, not only as matter of universal reproach to his order, but as so many comfortable licences for all manner of wickedness in laymen. If a clergyman, say they, can do such things, what raay not we do ? They know best how far a raan raay go downhill wifchoufc plunging into the abyss ; and surely a layraan may go twice as far as a cler gyman, and uot find hiraself, after all, in a more desperate condition. Now, although this is very bad reasoning, and worst of all among Protestants, who will have their clergy to be teachers of the most limited kind, and uot guides ; yet as it is likely to be the reasoning of thousands every where, till all false reasoning is banished quite out of the world, it will, no doubt, be severely required of us as a priraary duty. LXV.J BUT A NARROW ROAD. 269 that we do the rest of mankind no harra at least, if we can do them no good, by our exaraples. A clergyman, by preach ing for twenty years with the tongue of an angel, shall not edify his hearers so much, as he shall corrupfc his seers by one raafcerial slip in poinfc of conducfc. Their ears are asleep, while fcheir eyes are open. Our serraons, fchey know, raay be borrowed, bufc our acfcions are our own. On fche raerits of these they severely try our faith by the rule of St. James; and indeed we should think it our greatest happiness, that they will not allow the smallest share of that toleration to our immoralities, which they do to their own. This is being kinder in effect to us, than they are to theraselves. Since the influence of exaraple goes so far, that few men think they are obliged to be better than their superiors, or than the generality of people on a level with themselves, detraction raay be considered, not only as one of the blackest in the catalogue of vices, but also as one of the greatest corruptors of raankind, inasrauch as this agent of raischief is perpetually employed by ill-nature, envy, and suspicion, to take off from the raerit of good actions, and aggravate the sin of bad ones ; to represent a worthy raan as less worthy, and a wicked one as raore wicked, than he really is ; and by these means to poison the alraost only fountain of action in fche rainds of fche giddy, and of fchose who are nafcurally disposed fco conceive ill of fcheir neigh bours. Thus ifc is fchat the slanderer destroys the effects of good exaraples, and raakes the raost of bad ones ; sullying the lustre of the noblest virtues, and swelling frailties into crimes ; increasing the apparent nuraber of offenders, in order to increase the real. This is doing the whole work ofthe enemy. It is gratifying malice ; it is accusing, it is corrupting souls, all in one act. It were an office of far less inhuraanity to raake a collection of contagious fevers and plagues, and then to go about through fche world cora- raunicafcing the infection. Thus, on the other hand, it is, thafc the fool is entrapped into a greater degree of wicked ness, than the raistaken example he follows will authorise, and so loses his whjle excuse ; and thus a disposition to think too hardly of others converts the opinions, the sus picions, the censures of the malevolent into so many prin ciples of wickedness in himself. A bad conscience, like a 270 THE GOOD FEn- REQUIRE [dISC. bad stomach, turns all ifc receives into foulness and poison for the whole raan. To draw at length towards a conclusion, let rae once again remind you, that example governs almost all the af fairs of this life ; that it relieves the poor in one place, and oppresses them in another; that here it cools devotion, and thins God's house and table, while it gives warmth and spi rit to religion there, ' and compels numbers to come in;' that fraud, perjury, and tyranny, carry all before them by the exaraple of the great ones in these countiies, while in those, justice, moderation and mercy, present us with the bright side of huraan nature, and alraost raake even this life happy. It is every raan's duty to forward fche happiness of others, as rauch as he can ; and if his example is of any iraportance (as whose is not ?) to raake it ' shine like a larap before men,' that it may light them to happiness, not like a raeteor to mislead. Is it not infinitely a more pleasing employ raent ' to go about doing good,' and encouraging others to do good, than to go about like ' a pestilence, that walketh in darkness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day?' a pestilence that infects the minds of such as still sit in re ligious darkness, and a destruction that ruins souls in the day-light of the gospel? When we come on our last trial, the judge may very per tinently ask us, why this neighbour of ours was guilty of fraud, or that dependant, of drunkenness ? to which it will be no satisfactory reply, to say, we neither lent our raouths to the interaperance of the one, nor our hands to the deceits of fche other. To have furnished an exaraple was as bad. We hear it as coraraonly, as absurdly, said of a spendthrift, who ruins his fortune, his health, and his soul by debauch eries of all kinds, that he hurts nobody but hiraself; as if, beside the necessary partners of his criraes, his example were not too contagious, to be harmless. As all men live in society, no man can hurt himself, with out hurting others. This is raore iraportantly true in a re ligious, than in a civil sense. ' We ar^ all members, one of another, in tbe body of Christ.' No one therefore can maim his own soul by sin, without, in proportion, incapacitating hiraself to do the office of a raember, and maiming the body LXV.J BUT A NARROW ROAD. 271 itself. Besides, a distempered meraber (such are the effects of example) is sure to infect the next, and spread its own unsoundness into all thafc are near ifc. How grievous an in jury this raust be to others, he who can think at all, may easily conceive ; and how it will be resented by Christ the head, who feels this second crucifixion more sensibly, than he did the first, in every part ofhis body, raay be sufficiently understood by those terrible expressions of his ; ' offences raust needs corae, but woe to hira by whora the offence coraeth. Whoso shall offend one of these little ones (the smallest of Christ's merabers) it were better for hira, that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.' Directly opposite to this woe, and equally great in its kind, is that blessing which he will receive, who makes the light of his good and holy exaraple so ' to shine before men,' as to discountenance -and reprove the evil deeds of some ; to encourage and ripen the good inclinations of others ; and to give all occasion to cry out, what a worthy, what an excel lent man is this! How just in all his dealings ! How cha ritable to his poor brother ! How forgiving to his eneraies I How regular, how constant, how warra, and yet how unos tentatious, as to every duty of religion, in his closet, in his^ family, in God's house, and at his table ! How fast he as cends towards God ! How he burns in the love of God, and brightens, as he rises, ' increasing still raore and more unto the perfect day !' Glory be to thee, our Father which art in heaven, who giveth such grace unto men. Hallowed be thy name, 0 Father of lights, for the benefit of this happy example. Thy kingdom corae in us, as in hira, that thy will raay be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, as thou hast given it to him, even the bread of eternal life in thy son Jesus Christ our Lord, to whora with thee, and the Holy Ghost, be all glory and honour, now and for ever more. Amen. 272 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. DISCOURSE LXVI. A CROWD MUST HAVE A BROAD ROAD. Prov. xii. 2. Be not conformed to. this world. Were there no other world nor life after this, the wisdom of conforming to the precept in ray text rather than to the world, raight be at least as easily raaintained, as questioned, I mean, in tiraes like the present ; for, howsoever disagree able it raay be to deny ourselves the sinful pleasures ofthis world ; or inconvenient, to live in opposition to its vain and idle custoras ; it is certainly far raore disagreeable to bear the expense and effects of those pleasures ; and raore incon venient, more troublesome and burthensome, to follow the custoras of the world in a course of life almost wholly arti ficial, and slavishly governed by the practice of others, who are governed at randora themselves by whim and folly, to say no worse. But whereas there actually is another world, whither we are to be transplanted by death frora this, and where for ever we raay enjoy, if qualified for it by an habitual exercise of piety and virtue in this place of trial, so great a degree of happiness, as not all our highest transports of pleasure here can help us to conceive ; and whereas the ways and customs of this world, where our stay is by innuraerable accidents rendered so uncertain, and on the footing of nature must, at best, be very short, are for the greater part, destructive of that piety and virtue, whereon only our hopes in futurity can be rationally founded ; the word of God, in a thousand places, calls on us to consider ourselves ' as strangers and pilgrims here,' to fix our eyes by faith on heaven, as our na tive country, and to remeraber, that, which way soever our journey leads, whether upward or downward, it can neither be very long nor pleasant. My text, in particular, casting an eye at either world, and finding the custoras or fashions of this, an infinite hindrance to all the necessary qualifica- LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 273 tions for happiness in that, not only cautions us, as many other places of Scripture do, against ' Setting our affections on things below,' but also against falling in with, and form ing our manners by, the reigning practices of mankind, which at once proceed from, and feed, the corruption of our nature. That a practical attention to this caution raay give us the appearance of singularity araong the weak and foolish ; or be ascribed to pride and hypocrisy by the raalicious; I shall readily own. But all men of comraon sense, who hear us declare, as Christians, that we belong to another world, will do us the justice to allow that it would be'infinitely raore foolish and ridiculous in us to look wholly unlike our profession, than to look ever so unlike the people we are to pass only a few days with, on our way horaeward to that better and more abiding country, we say, we are bound for. It is but fit, that we, who neither can make, nor even wish to raake, a long stay here, should follow a different rule, in raost parts of our conduct, frora that which those very wise people observe who look' on this world as their only horae, set death at defiance, and have no thoughts of ever remov ing. It would be acting like coxcombs, a character, of all others, the most absurd in the professors of religion, either to set ourselves out in the pink of the raode for so short an appearance, or to think of travelling, especially in the narrow way, so craggy and so thorny, in a very fashionable dress, as far, in this case, from looking ornamental, as from being convenient. A small conforraity therefore with the cus tom of the place, in two or three indifferent particulars, will be a sufficient compliraent to people, we mean so little re spect for as those about the inn ; where the children of this world do not sojourn, but inhabit. One acquainted with their actions only, and not at all with their bodily constitu tions, must conclude, they know of no other world but this, have no other home but here ; and hold possession of it by a tenure that can never expire ; for why otherwise should men so ' wise in their generation,' raen capable of wisdora in any one thing, take so rauch pains, indeed lay out all their thoughts and endeavours, in improving (for such they think it) on the present spot ? To make the most of , what they have, an infinite deal of art is called in to help out nature, VOL. III. T 274 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. till at length nature is buried under an endless medly of re finements ; the thing lost in the raanner ; and necessity itself set aside for mode and fashion. Who, in the genteel world, eats to satisfy his hunger, drinks to quench his thirst, clothes hiraself to keep out the cold, or does any of the three, to support hfe ? And who in the lower ranks airas not at an iraitation of the higher, in these things, with all his little raight, nay, beyond bis power, and above his circurastances? Awkward ambition ! Miserable rack ! Whereon these wretches are stretched between want and pride, between poverty and splendor, till their scanty substance, and too often their feeble consciences, are put wholly out of joint. It is the tyrant, fashion, that thus inverts the order of nature among the people of this world, properly so called ; that gives the night for action, and the day for sleep ; that turns their stomachs atthe wholesome and delicious food of their own country, only because it raay be easily had; and whets their appetites for foreign poisons, only because they are far-fetched and expensive. It is in a great raeasure owing to this total departure frora nature and necessity in the rich and great, that so many of the poor go half-naked, and pine for want of food ; while so many of their betters, who feed and dress only for the fashion, never consider, that food and rairaent are still necessary things, nor that a raan without meat, raust be hungry, and without clothing, cold. Na ture, necessity, the laws of our country, the coraraands of God, and, what is more with the raen of this world than all these, their visible interest, pass for nothing in opposition to custora. An individual raight as well think of encoun tering an array, as resisting this usurper, who never wants a bigotted crowd to back him. Supported by that, he con quers all, governs all, and persecutes all, who are so singu lar as to dissent, till they are thought fit only for a dark room and straw ; for he is not considered as mad, who acts against reason, but he who acts oddly; and he only is thought to act oddly, who acts as few others do. The power of this tyrant is derived from our pride, cowardice, and liv ing together. He or she is greatest, who is soonest and highest in the fashion. Few have sufficient resolution and greatness of soul to bear up against the stream of custom, and contemn the ridicule of crowds, though known to be LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 275 made up of fools, as long as living, dealing, and conversing with them, is necessary. The greatest slaves to custom, therefore, are fchose who live most in the world ; and they who submit least to his power, are such as spend their days in retireraent. This tyrant can subdue a raulfcifcude together with raore ease, than one person by hiraself. Contagions of all kinds are propagated fastest in places that are raost populous ; and custora raay be called a contagion, because through the corruption of our nature, it becomes the vehicle of little else but vice, which, carried by example, flies frora mind to raind, infecting souls, as the plague does bodies. Pity, that for so contagious a disorder, there are too few good and wise examples to furnish us with an epideraic cure ! This observation is verified by another raade on the poorer sort of people, and on such as live at a very great distance frora towns, the fashion, whatever it is, reaching these more slowly, and those more imperfectly, than the rest of mankind. Yet even among these it is airaed at, and adored at a distance, when it cannot be attained to. The young labourer, in the wildest part of the kingdora, will have his new coat, though as coarse as his sack, cut as near to the last fashion as possible ; and the poor girl behind the raost distant raountain, who never once inquired about religion, asks what is the fashionaible cap, and hath her kenting shaped by the pattern of the finest lawn or cambric on the head of the princess. Fashions of this kind, how ever, take some time to go dowii ; but the dissimulation, treachery, ingratitude, and ambition, of high life, run like electricity, and reach the dregs of raankind, as in a mo ment. In regard to these modish vices, all ranks of people have received the last polish, and are within the very pre cincts ofthe court. Many practices in trade are deeraed lawful by dealers who still raean to be honest, which, if they would exaraine them by the word of God and the royal law, not by common practice, the sarae raen would abhor as rauch, when done by, as to theraselves. It is a law of custom, ihat young gentlemen, who, apt as they raay be to learn, know yet, raerely for want of tirae, butlittle of the vices of their own country, and consequently but a very little of any thing else, raust travel for the vani- T 2 276 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. ties and vices of foreigners, that we islanders may not he too far behind the mode of pride, expense, and wickedness, established in nations raore early refined than ourselves. A young hopeful, who goes abroad with nothing but his native propensity to conceit and lewdness, checked by some mo desty in the outward appearance, which he and his wiser parents call awkwardness and bashfulness ; coraes home full of conterapt for his own country, and for virtue ; with assurance enough to do any thing ; and as to religion, with a stock of Popery for low folks, and of Deism for himself. Now it is an heresy against custom to question, whether all this is not improvement. I know nothing wherein the tyranny of custom is so re markably seen, as in the established rules and notions of honour. To debauch the daughter or wife of a friend is honourable. To run him through the heart in defence of these gentlemanlike actions, is still more honourable ; more honourable, though done with all the palpitations of a coward, who trerables between the opinions of raen and the judgments of God, and of a fool, who prefers the former to the latter. Behold the tyranny of custom in another instance, wherein, notwithstanding all his affectation of politeness, he destroys the very shadow of hospitality at the houses of the great, whom you raust pay, as you do other inn-keepers, for a dinner or a night's lodging, it being all one to you in the conclusion, whether you reckon for your accommoda tions with the landlord, or his waiter ; and to hira, whether you discharge the account iraraediately with himself, or ^PP'y your debt to the payraent of his servant's wages. This custora raight be justifiable as the only expedient to keep at a proper distance frora the great, a nuraber of low and spunging acquaintances, were it not, that we hear them pressingly invited, no doubt as custoraers rather than friends, by one who hath the utmost contempt for their conversation. These two or three speciraens raay serve instead of a thousand others, which it will be raora agreeable for every one of you to recollect, than to hear from the pulpit, whereby the usurpations of custom, and the slavery of mankind to this notional tyrant of their own creating, may be easily set LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 277 in their proper but shameful light ; sharaeful indeed, both to those who stand high enough to impose by example such practices on their inferiors, and to those inferiors who are content to follow in the rear of stupidity and infaray, to raake borrowed stupidity their honour, and aspire to in famy, without a capacity of distinguishing theraselves even in that. O despicable arabition ! How low a thing is pride ! surely it were better, I had alraost said, genteeler, to turn downright Christian, than to value oneself on being only the tail of a body, that, at best, hath but gross folly for a head. But this tyrant stops not at folly, nor will he be con fined to particulars. No, he establishes enormities of the blackest kinds, and of the raost extensive influence. He even works rairacles ; for what else is it to transpose, as he does, the very nature of raoral good and evil ? to turn day into night, and night into day ? to juggle the whole world and the course of all its affairs, its pleasures, troubles, inte rests, and even produce, into quite other things than they really are, to huraan apprehension ? to change its inha bitants into so different a kind of creatures, and so exceed ingly for the worse, that Adam would not know his sons, nor Eve her daughters ? to regale hiraself with the sacrifice of their lives, nay, their souls, by thousands, on the sea and in battle ? to force commerce, with all the arts, and most of the sciences, into his service ? How raany beasts, birds, worras, must they strip or embowel for his clothing ! from how many distant parts of the globe raust they bring him the materials of one meal ! How many nations, some of fchem fche mosfc refined in point of understanding, hath he taught to adore a piece of tiraber, and pray to a lurap of stone ! How raany Christians hath he persuaded, contrary to their own nature, and the repeated coraraands of Christ, to disbelieve their own senses, and, frora motives of Chris tian charity, to burn their fellow-creatures alive, to raurder emperors with poisoned sacraraents, and blow up kings and parliaraents with gunpowder ! By what an araazing rairacle is it, that he teaches us of this church to place the spirit of religion in kindness, good nature, and love ; and then to despise that religion ? and so many araong us of another 278 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. persuasion, to place that spirit in sourness, contention, and . hatred, and then to love it. Under this general perversion of religion, it is no won der, if all the virtues, justice, raodesty, teraperance, by a little additional discountenance of custora, should be sup pressed ; or all the vices, oppression, luxury, lewdness, dis honesty, by the help of nuraerous examples, especially from the upper end of the world, should be encouraged and sup ported. The daily observation, if not the consciences, of you all may save me the trouble of particularizing on this disagreeable, perhaps, offensive topic. There was once a good being who went by the name of custom, and made it a title of honour. He was the son of right reason, and the brother of true religion, and as such you cannot mistake his father. During the reign of reason and religion, his interest with mankind greatly strengthened the bands of that government. Whether he is dead, or to whafc distant part of the universe he is banished, we cannot tell, we hear no more of him. Very different is the pedigree, as well as disposition, of him who is now on the throne. He is the incestuous offspring of pride, and his bastard daughter culpable emu lation. The head ofthe whole family is spoken of, Gen. iii. He was nursed at a vast expense hj vanity and folly in that court, where the mint of fashion is kept. He arrived to his present height of power by successfully inculcating two short raaxiras. Do as others do ; follow the raany, and of those, especially the great. Wealth is his eleraent, but he can subsist in poverty. As wisdora or piety approach him, he shrinks and dwindles into almost nothing ; and if the latter repeats ray text, he instantiy vanishes into vapour. When pride, iraagination, and wealth only are with him, his size and strength increase to such a degree, than he can turn and turable the whole world, which way he pleases, with as much ease as a httle ball. Although he is exceedingly starched and stiffened up to forms, and, when it raakes for his purpose, pleads antiquity as decisive in all things ; yet he IS perpetually contriving new fashions and ceremonies ; and is said to be the inventor of innuraerable arts, such as fraud,- lying, oppressing, thieving, robbing, together with 1 1 LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 279 those of cooks, tailors, firemen, and milliners ; and of one science, which consists in the discovery and inforceraent of a new necessity, the necessity of unnecessary, useless, and pernicious things. Others say, it was the God of this world who revealed these inventions to hira, and ordered him to institute thera as a sort of raock sacraraents for the more effectually urging on the rainds of mankind his two goodly maxims already mentioned. This is but a very imperfect account of fchafc usurper and his practice, to whom this world bows, as to its second God ; that seducer of individuals ; that corrupter of magistrates ; that prostitutor of legislators ; that overturner of states ; that destroyer of kingdoms ; that oppressor, and at the same tirae, raocker of raankind ; that waster of this world, and peopler of hell. What need of any more, but this and, your own experience, to set you at liberty ? To a sound understanding, fco know and abhor hira ; and to a raanly resolution, to abhor and utterly renounce him, is but one and the same thing. There is no power which it is so slavish to submit to, as that of custom, because whosoever blindly resigns himself to it, resigns, at the same time, all right to choose for, and act of himself. He puts hiraself underthe direction ofa thou sand guides at once, all leading different ways in the dark, and each to some unhappy end, in a path so foul, so craggy, so full of pitfalls, that the road which is above to the wise, though narrow, is not half so troublesorae as this which leads downward ; yes, downward, for notwithstanding that it is the path of pride, and crowded with great ones, it is not the path of true honour, unless it is honourable to have neither will nor choice of one's own, but to be hedged into one track, and either led by the knaves before, or driven by the fools behind, like other beasts of burden ; proud, how ever, to shake the fringes and tinkle the bells, though a groan now and then at the weight of the load raakes the base of the consort. Do as others do, and be not singular, saith custora. Go with the stream, saith the world, that is, do good or evil, go to heaven or hell, with the multitude. But Christ tells you which way the multitude is going ; and the spirit saith, ' follow not after a multitude to do evil. 280 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. Be not conformed to this worid ; but be changed, be trans formed in the renewing of your mind ;' if you mean to ' prove whafc fchafc good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God is,' which he hath declared, as the rule of your be haviour now, and the measure of his love to you hereafter. Whatsoever is good and fit to be done, that do with all your might, though no raortal does it but yourself. Whatsoever is foolish or wicked, avoid as you would eternal raisery, fchough all raankind joined in fche pracfcice ofit. Temporal good and evil are fixed by the unchangeable nature of temporal things. Moral or spiritual good and evil are fixed by the indispensable laws of God. The hap piness of man here follows a right choice of the former. His happiness hereafter is fcied fco a righfc choice of the latter. Could custom change the nature of things, such as light and darkness, food and poison, sickness and health, pleasure and pain, or could it repeal and transpose the laws of God, concerning fit and unfit, right and wrong, rewards and pu nishraents ; it might also change the nature of happiness in both worlds, and justify all its conformists. But nature must have her way, and God will have his. Distress, sick ness, death, would pursue those who trample on nature, though there were raore of thera than there is of the sand on the sea-shore ; and guilt, shdrae, despair, daranation, those who rebel against God, though they could outnumber and outshine the stars of heaven. No degree of power or superiority over inferiors ought to enforce an exaraple beyond the reason of the thing to be done, or of the rule prescribed for it in the word of God. Great as the authority of a parent is, and ought to be, over his children, they are fco obey hira only in fchings lawful and honest ; and surely his exaraple should not go farther than his command ; nay, not so far, for • all things that are law ful are not expedient.' The son, modestly speaking, hath a right to be less a fool than his father ; for no law, but that of custom, to whose sovereignty, principally as a law-giver, we premptorily deraur, hath ever yet pretended to authorise an entail of folly. It is enough for the duty of servants, if they obey, and raore a great deal, than they are bound to, if they imitate their master, as children their parents, in all things lawful LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 281 and honest. Their service would not be worth his wages, had they not the sense to distinguish between right and wrong in his conduct, so far as that conduct may be either way a pattern for theirs ; and if they have sense enough to serve a foolish raaster, God will expect they should use their sense in considering how to serve him, whose infinite good ness makes his a much easier service, and whose infinite authority supersedes, not only the examples, but the com mands of all created masters. The exaraples of the clergy, who are but raen, and to ray certain knowledge, soraetiraes the weakest of men, are to be limited by the sarae rule. Mankind are raore severe, and justly, on their faults than the faults of others, and therefore less tempted, one should think, to be led astray by theirs, than by lay transgressions, especially as their sermons, or at least their texts, furnish antidotes as fast as their raiscon duct can scatter poisons. The conduct of saints and persons inspired is not always to be followed, because being left by the spirit of God, in many cases, to theraselves, they have, through human frailty, been guilty of such actions, as were beforehand expressly forbidden, 'or afterwards severely reproved by that spirit. Moses, David, Solomon, and Saint Peter, though distin guished by the most erainent gifts and graces, have proved sufficiently on sorae occasions, that they were but men. Now to imitate them in their evil and not their good actions, is- to prefer sin to virtue in a character, where they shew each other in the strongest point of light. This therefore is a choice that can never be raade, but by a raind equally lost to common sense and goodness. The example even of Christ hiraself goes not beyond this rule. It only excites and shews us how to do what his precepts have already rendered right and fit to be done ; and never becoraes a law, but when his express command enacts it as such. He did many things, all of them infi nitely good in him, which it would be presumption in us to attempt, or wickedness to do. Much less surely are the custoras that obtain among the rich and great to be imitated in all things, as is too common, without distinction. They may indeed give a countenance to folly, and bring wickedness into vogue in the upper 282 .A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. orders of men. But still it should be remembered, that those vices which are very fashionable in one of family and for tune, sufficient to bear hira out in the wildest excesses, look but awkwardly and pitifully in a raan of inferior condition. To what a state of beggary would one day of that raagnificent wickedness, which is applauded in the great by all their flat terers, reduce a man of much narrower circumstances. Cus tora, forward as it is to propagate folly and wickedness in all ranks of raen, forbids the vulgar nevertheless, yes, and upstarts, to tread on the heels of their betters in the high way of sin ; nay, pronounces that very action wise in a great person of the best education, which it conderans of the grossest stupidity, though otherwise circurastanced alike throughout, in an indigent person, whose extrerae ignorance hath always been as well the constant corapanion, as the necessary effect, of his poverty. A plain man for instance, is not to iraagine, that absenting himself from the place of public worship, or neglecting the Lord's table, shall pass for a sign of shrewdness, or a mark of distinction in him, be cause they are adraitted, and by many adraired, as such, in a raan of high rank and fortune. If he does, he will find himself wofully disappointed. Custom itself will hand him down to his place, and pjunish him with that conterapt which is due to his presuraption. To be irreligious and atheistical is that peculiar privilege which custom reserves for and ap propriates to the great. Now if you whora Providence hath blessed with moderate or scanty circumstances, seeing the great man stop with his coach and six at the eye ofthe nee dle, as too narrow for so huge an equipage to pass through, should, therefore by a puff of your vanity, swell yourself to too grea.t a bulk in your own imagination for that entrance, be assured, the whole world would laugh at your damnation. The world can well enough bear (because it is used to the show) to see the porap and splendour of its lords descend in state along ' the broad way ;' but how great is its indigna^ tion at your irapudence, who being only one of the littie, will needs thrust yourself in among such fellow-travellers, as if a straiter road were nofc wide enough for you who must foot it ! In all this you most adraire that irapious pride in the wealthy, for which, of all things, God hath thera most ' in derision ;' and this you get by ' setting' your affection LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 283 on things below,' on things as low in their nature as their situation, and capable only of riveting your little soul to the earth, or carrying it still farther downward. When Popery was in vogue, the road to heaven was so taxed by those who took upon them to mend it, that a poor raan could hardly go to the charge of a journey thither. The way downward to an opposite place is now so crowded with wealthy and fashionable travellers, the accoraraodations of all sorts so very dear, and every little pleasure raised to so extravagant a price, that a man of middling circumstances cannot afford to raake the jaunt, at least like a gentleman, if his skill and success in gaming are not extraordinary. This is probably the reason, why some, jaded with pleasure, and impatient of the expense, do, towards the close of life, contract with an undertaking priest, at a much cheaper rate, for a near cut the contrary way. Awake out of sleep. Rouse your understanding ; and consider, how little true wisdora is found in those who give the fashion ; how they are bred up in pride, wantonness, and vice of every kind ; how they are bogged in the thick clay of this world, how Christ hath told them, that ' it is as easy for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, as it is for them to enter into the kingdom of heaven ;' how the apostle hath told us, that ' not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called ;' how David saith that, ' man being in honour continueth not, but is like the beast that perisheth ;' how the rich, who die like other men, turn all of them preachers of this doctrine at the last, and^'Cry out ' vanity and vexation of spirit,' as the true cha racter of the lives they have led ; how unable even the ago nies of death, deepened by those of despair, are to find a tongue to express the hideous prospect of that which is to follow. God hath forbidden you ' to go in the way of evil men,' or so much as ' to enter into the path of the wicked, for their way is darkness,' so that ' they know not at what they stumble,' nor that ' they lay wait for their own blood, and lurk privily for their own lives.' But ' they prosper,' you say, ' and come not into trouble like other folks.' Be not carried away with this appearance, to distrust Providence, or to slight the service of God ; but 284 A CROWD MUST HAVE [dISC. come hither 'into his house,' as David, under the same temptation did, and ye shall ' behold the end of these men.' His word which we here consult, will open your eyes, that you raay see these raen, ' forraerly so prosperous in ungod liness, set in slippery places, and cast down into destruc tion.' You shall then correct your ignorant doubts, and say to yourself, 'how are they brought into desolation as in a raoraent ! They are utterly consumed with terrors.' ' Christ's kingdom is not of this world.' Of his kingdom you profess yourself a meraber, frora that day when you renounced the prince of this world with all ifcs poraps and vanifcies. Ifyou are really of Christ, you will despise those trappings of slavery to pride and folly, and lift your raind to a nobler kind of grandeur, the glorious grandeur of being truly religious, and of ardently loving God, afc a fcirae when it is becorae fashionable to forget him, and the effects ofhis goodness, even while we wanton in them. This is a greatness, which you may more easily raise yourself to, and preserve yourself in, than the wealthy can in theirs. This is true greatness, which no degree of poverty can hinder, which death cannot destroy, which all that are wise and good in heaven and on earth shall see, shall applaud, shall magnify Almighty God for in their hymns, while you are yet in your rags, and longing at the gate of Dives for tbe crumbs that fall frora his table. God sees your faith, your patience, your love ofhira in the raidst of contempt and indigence; notes the honour your perseverance in tbese exalted graces does to him, and his religion, and marks the difference between that and the slight they cast on both, who are neither so contented nor so thankful for all their wealth, as you are in the midst of your poverty. At the very instant that the high heads of this world pass you by, as one beneath their notice, the angelsj the principalities, the powers in heaven, look frora their thrones on you and your triuraphs, with a joy which all the raptures they feel, and all the glories they possess, cannot divert. Great is the kingdora ofyour Lord, and great are you already in that kingdora, though so despi cable here, where pride, folly, and ignorance prevail, and Satan reigns by perraission for a tirae. But fashionable as it is grown to forget God and contemn LXVI.J A BROAD ROAD. 285 his service, there are every where some araong the great who, in spite of custom and numberless temptations, esteera it their highest honour to worship him at his house, and in their own, with a humility and constancy, equal to yours. These souls, ennobled by religion above their wealth and titles, shine down from the highest stations of life in all the lustre of piety, probity, and humanity. Kindle at the warmth, and pursue the light of these suns, and not the false lights, or contagious heats, of those, who being set on fire of hell, glare on you frora above with malignant rays. Consider with yourself, you to whora the custoras ofthe world are yet a teraptation. Is the folly of hira who cun ningly scheraes his own confusion, the extravagance of him who pursues the ruin ofhis own fortune, the wickedness of him who labours to bring corruption on his own nature, re morse on his own conscience, and endless misery on his own soul ; a fit object of your imitation ? Can your reason reconcile itself to this ? Can you hope for honour in fol lowing him, whom, with your own eyes, you see hastening to infamy ? in being the ridiculous, despicable fool of fashion, and that only at second hand ? Can even your pride stoop to this ? If it can, how low, how abject a thing is that pride ! How does your enemy at once insult the grossness of your stupidity by a snare so palpable, and tread your lit tle soul into that dirt, which the parade of custom raises on the broad, the downward road of false honour ! It is certainly every man's duty to himself, who lives in the light of the gospel, to be guided by his own eyes, if he pretends to see at all ; and not slavishly give hiraself up to the direction of others, who probably care very little which way they go ; who perhaps are led theraselves by such a train or succession of exaraples, as there is no tracing to any other original, than folly, it raay be, wickedness, grown gray and venerable by length of time ; or to pursue to any other end, than infaray and raisery, made still more dreadful by the prospect of eternity. Instead of following one another fco ruin, lefc us beseech God to fix our iraitation'nn the glorious exaraple of our blessed Saviour ; and, when through infirraity we fail, to ac cept of his merit and mediation for us, that our lives, though at an infinite distance, may follow his in virtue, and our 286 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc souls ascend at last into those happy raansions which he is gone before to prepare for us. To him, in the unity of the ever blessed Trinity, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and dorainion, now, and for evermore. Amen. DISCOURSE LXVII. HOW TO CHOOSE A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. Genesis ii. 18. The Lord God said. It is not good that man should be alone : I will make him an help meet for him. There is no one thing that shews so clearly the depraved and dissolute turn of the present tiraes, as the growing dis taste to matrimony, avowed by many, and the arguments, not less impertinent than the jests, made use of to spread that distaste among the young and giddy part of raankind. The tendency of both can be no other, than either to esta blish universal lewdness, 6r bring on a universal desolation. If those arguments have any truth in them, it can be only on a raaxira that all, or alraost all, the individuals of both sexes are too wicked to choose or be chosen into this state ; or else that a good man and a good woraan had better live asunder than together. I say again, if those arguraents are true, this world is a sort of hell rather than a place of trial ; and if they are false, it is little better for listening to them, and acting on thera, as it does. But be this as it will, no huraan creature can subsist hap pily, if afc all, oufc of society ; nor can there be any suoh thing as society, to answer fche end of a corafortable, not to say happy subsistence in this world, without matrimony. We may fairiy therefore conclude, with God and nature to vouch it, that ' it is not good for man to be alone,' and that a young person of either sex must be cursed with very un happy dispositions, or at least in other respects very parti cularly circumstanced, to be an exception to this rule. LXVII. J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 287 And yet it raust be owned that many raatches are unhappy, that raore are likely to be so ; nay, and that few are blessed with that perfect satisfaction, v/hich the state, rightly un derstood and embraced, is nafcurally qualified fco afford, or the parties theraselves thus joined, expected from it. The libertine in principle lays this to the charge of the institu tion ; and the women are blaraed for it by the rake and the witling, to whora the raore distinguished faults of that sex are nevertheless chiefly owing. But marriage is the institu tion of God, and, say what the irreligious will, is founded on, and fitted to, the nature God hath given us ; so that to argue against it, is to commit a violence on nature, and to insult its Creator in one of 'his earliest and raost universal laws. And to accuse the weaker sex with all the miseries ofthe married state, is in the event, nothing else but accus ing ourselves, who either by the bad education we give them, or by the wrong taste in us, to which they are, in sorae sort, obliged to accommodate fcheraselves, raake them whafc fchey are ; for ifc may be laid down for a rule, fchafc, in general, women ever were, and ever will be, nearly whafc fche men please they should be; for so much as they are better, the unconquerable goodness and raodesty of their own nature, huraanly speaking, raerits all the thanks. No, the growing nuraber of unhappy raarriages is really owing to the erroneous notions entertained by raost people concerning the state of matriraony itself, to the absurd or wicked custoras of the world, to the foolish humours, the sensual desires, the pride, the covetousness of mankind, and in some places, fco fche ill-judged laws thafc have defcerrained fche civil rights and privileges of raarried people. Few people know, and fewer still consider, that a raarried couple, though joined together on a footing of superiority in the husband and subordination in the wife, are one flesh or body ; and that this body can bave but one interest, one scherae of corafort and happiness, to which division and de struction are precisely the sarae thing. Notwithstanding tbat this is the decree of God, as plainly written in onr nature, as in his word, yet the customs ofthis world, equally foolish and impious, draw the man and his wife asunder, by the enticement of separate pleasures, safcis- facfcions, and even interests ; and this too strongly tends to 288 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc. the separation of their affections. They themselves are pre viously so wedded fco separate views, that they almost always propose to themselves, in marrying, such as are rautually wide of one another, and cannot be perfectly accomplished together, at least in any consistency with that one common view, which both ought to make the sole end of marrying. They who marry on whim or huraour, build a castle on the clouds, and see it turable to the ground in ruins before they can enjoy themselves in it a single week. The sen sualists lay a foundation almost as insecure, and accordingly seldom prolong their satisfaction beyond the end of the first month. When pride is the chief raotive to raatriraony, it never fails to inspire the one party with tyranny, and the other with rebellion. It is no wonder, and as little matter, if they, who through covetousness sell themselves into this state, are treated afterward as slaves and beasts, rather than as free and rational creatures. Conjugal love can never subsist on its own free and generous footing in that country, where the wives are by law pufc almosfc on a level with fche servanfcs ; nor can fche benefits of subordination, though in particular cases becorae absolutely necessary to peace, be hoped for in that other, which hath raade them legally inde pendent on their husbands. To make marriages happy, fche sfcafce itself oughfc to be well understood ; the true and rational ends of entering into it, carefully considered ; the custoras of the world, so far as they are culpable in themselves or detrimental to those ends, thoroughly despised ; and the wrong motives to mar riage already mentioned, either wholly laid aside, or kept in so distant a point of view, that but a very slight disappoint ment shall be suffered, in case they happen to be but indif ferently provided for. They who will not take this advice, and yet are weak enough to hope for happiness in a marned state, run the hazard of acting over again the tragedy of fcheir firsfc parents, and of expulsion frora fchafc paradise fchey vainly proraise fcheraselves, while a feasfc on ifcs forbidden fruifcs is preferred to all its solid and wholesome joys, till tirae aud woful experience open their eyes, and convince thera, that -all their sensual, worldly, and arabitious views, were but so many temptations or illusions ; and that, instead of being raade happier than God hath allowed thera to be, they are LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 289 become as miserable as their eneray could wish them in this life. Such things are they to avoid who intend to marry wisely ; and the things they are to aim at, are the true, the natural, the Scriptural ends of matrimony. These are judiciously distinguished and set out by our liturgy, and are but three ; the raising up of an honourable and legitiraate posterity ; the preservation of virtue ; and the social assistance and comfort which two persons, thus joined together, may re ceive from each other, but not possibly frora all the other persons or possessions in the world. It is, no doubt, an unspeakable satisfaction every reason able father receives from a well-grounded belief (which in regard to a spurious brood, can never take place) that his own real issue are to be the objects of his love and care, and are to inherit the fruits of his labour and frugality. But it is a rauch greater, to find one, in whora he can safely centre all his otherwise dissipated and criminal affections ; in whom he can repose an entire confidence, and from whora he is as sured of large returns for every instance of love, of tender ness, of generosity, which the kindest heart can give to the most beloved object, an object able to sweeten all his afflic tions, and redouble all his coraforts. The pleasure of an or dinary heart arises from the satisfaction it receives from wifchoufc. The happiness of a greafc and noble soul, from fche satisfactions it imparts. A truly good couple feast on both in their highest human perfection, and know no greater joy, excepting that which they hope for, when death shall divorce them, in order to a yet infinitely happier marriage, with their Redeemer. Behold the important and blessed ends, which they ought to have in view, who would wish to be wisely and happily married ; and tell me, whether faraily, whether fortune, whe ther titles and posts of honour are to be set in corapetition with these. On these let the youth of both sexes (for to them only I direct tbis discourse) fix their attention ; and then let thera hear the advice I am about to give, which, if followed, will hardly fail to furnish each of them with ' that help meet for each,' which God, as ray text sets forth, gra ciously intended they should obtain. To avoid repetition and confusion, I speak, for the most VOL. III. y 290 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc. part, as to men, but intend what I say equally for the other sex. In the first place, let every one who thinks of mar riage, consider with hiraself, whether he is qualified for that state or not, whether he labours under any incurable or loathsome disorders of body, which may, when known, prevent the possibility of his becoming, or continuing, an object of conjugal affection. If he is free from all impediments of this sort, let him next consider, whether he is not naturally, or habitually subject to disorders of a yet more disqualifying nature ; I mean those of the raind. A proud disposition is very unfit for a state, wherein so much meekness, complacency, mutual resignation, and mu tual forbearance, are necessarily required. A haughty spirit can never brook a superior, nor bear an equal. It is impos sible it should become one with any kind of temper. With an humble one it cannot, because it is of so different a na ture ; with a proud one it will not, because it is ofthe same ; for none hates pride so rauch as he that is raost addicted to it hiraself. Besides, hatred is but one degree, and that a small one, raore opposite to love, than pride. Pride is founded on the conceit of too rauch worth to adrait of any ser vices or kindnesses but as a sraall part only of what it ments ; and therefore he always insults, who pretends to obhge, the proud ; for what can be added to one who is already self- sufficient ? It is easy to see what a contempt of kind of fices is likely to do in a state, where happiness cannot sub sist but on love ; and where love hath nothing to feed it, but a lively sense of mutual kindness, ever apter to overrate, than nndervalue, each act of friendship, and even each affec tionate intention. In the next place, an angry teraper is enough to render him, who is subject to it, unfit for a state which hardly ad raits of a raediura between the highest sweets of peace, and the bitterest effects of war. The ties of matrimonial union are of too tender and delicate a nature to resist the violent shocks of so rude and outrageous a passion, which often, like thunder, in one furious moment, blasts and batters to the ground that affection which had been the lovely growth of many a year's endearment. It is only among doves, and other the meeker kind of brutes, that we observe any thing LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 2&1 like marriage. Lions, tigers, wolves, and the like fierce and fiery animals, are not known to associate in pairs. As often as a human lion and lioness happen to be joined, we know too well, and they know to their cost, what sort of lives they lead ; and when one of this stormy disposition is married to another of a gentle and delicate turn, fche bois terous carriage on the one side, together with the silent suf fering grief on the other, present us with a sight as piteous, as the other is hideous. Hardly less opposite to that state, wherein all the happi ness hoped for must spring from love, is a dark and sullen temper, which can neither love, nor be loved. There is no planting tender affections upon this rock. Were you to fill a vessel, like this, with honey, or with a compound of all the highest sweets in nature, the whole would sour in a very little time, and turn to vinegar and gall, Such a raind is the proper eleraent of secret discontents, which it nourishes in a surly silence ; of virulent humours, which it begets on itself, withr out the concurrence of anofcher, by a sorfc of diabolical gene ration ; and of hatred equally causeless aijd unaccountable,. Again, a raan of scattered affections and a fickle turn of mind, should beware of binding hiraself for life to one. Such a temper can never be united to another. To a fickle one, it cannot, because in both there is a disposition to fly. off. To a constant one it cannot, because if but one of the parties varies, it is sufficient to separate fchat from the other which is fixed. To be tied by the conscience, and at the sarae tirae set adrift by the heart, places the mind in such a state of dis traction, between duty and pleasure, as makes it irapossible to provide for either, A marriage can never be happy, if one ofthe parties cannot please the other. But it is impossible to please that person whose temper one does not know. Now, the fickle is of all terapers by turns, and it is as easy to foresee which way the wind will blow next, as to guess, of what mind he will be to-morrow. Again, the jealous ought not fco marry; for in raarriage there can be no happiness without mutual confidence. De stroy that once, and the warmest love, though otherwise the very life and soul of this union, becomes the grand bone of contention. Neither strong appearances, nor even manifestly bad actions, will leave deeper impressions on a sound mjnd, y 3 292 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc- than his own crazy suspicions will force on the jealous, when nothing amiss bath been done, nor even the sraallest appear ances, have been given. But as no huraan creature is per fect, nor always on the watch, sraall faults will be coramitted, and soraetiraes the probability of greater will arise, when no thing but absolute perfection, or, at worst, but a sufficient stock of care and caution is wanting. Now, he that hath jea lousy for a natural disteraper, and is, over and above, infected with a general ill opinion of huraan nature, arising either from a very corrupt turn of mind in himself, or from a crimi nal experience, is sure to make the most of every thing to realize appearances, and magnify faults into criraes. Lastly, one of a selfish disposition ought never to engage in a state of life so social, as that of raatriraony. The satis factions of the selfish are greatest to him alone and apart frora others. What fche resfc of raankind, whafc even his nearest relafcives, fafcher, raother, children, wife, enjoy, he looks upon as so much lost to hiraself; and hath no notion, that enjoy raents of any kind can be increased by being shared. Now it is participation only that in a married state improves every comfort, every pleasure, up to perfection ; that heightens ordinary fare into delicacies ; and raises cottages into pa laces. He that cannot place his happiness at least as much in giving, as receiving, may be married, but can never have a wife. There is raore of exchange and coramerce in the ma trimonial, than in any other sort of society; and here, there fore, of all markets, it is raost unreasonable, nay iniquitous, to think of trading, if we cannot find in our hearfcs to lay out. What then, you will here cry out, are all people subject to these infirmities, many or raost of which are natural, to ab stain frora raarriage ? The answer is, every one should ab stain from that which is hkely to bring hira into a worse, in stead of abetter condition, than his present one ; and whether raatriraony will probably better the condition of one who is very proud, passionate, sullen, fickle, suspicious, or selfish ; let all people, whora it raay concern, judge for theraselves. A low degree of these culpable qualities is not sufficient to render any one wholly unfit for raatriraony ; nor even a higher, if the mind, from true piety and its other virtues, hath force sufficient to master it. But in whatsoever degree, dis positions so untoward, affect the mind, in the same degree LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 293 will they endanger or lessen the comforts hoped for in that state. But when I insist, that persons enslaved to the un happy dispositions raentioned, and governed by thera as the distinguishing properties of their rainds, ought not to raarry, 1 by no means intend to exclude even them absolutely from that state. It is to be hoped, that the door which shuts out their faults, raay lie open afterward to tbeir persons. As none but a good raan or woman, can possibly be a good hus band or wife ; and as none but the good can be happy, whether married or single, whether here or hereafter ; it raust be surely the purpose of every thinking believer to correct in hiraself all such highly criminal dispositions, as lay an everlasting and insurmountable bar (till they are removed) against fche sraallesfc rational hope of happiness in either world. He, who being subject, in so high a degree, to pro perties of so very bad a nature, will not repent and araend, I still insist, can never enter infco the paradise of marriage with a good wife here, nor into the heaven of an alliance with Christ hereafter. God never created a help-meet for such a man as this. He therefore does but deceive hiraself, and in this case most fatally, who thinks of deceiving another, and hopes that his ill qualities will fall heavy only on the person he espouses. They will fall with double weight on him, and worry his conscience, as well as his peace. That man is a fool who expects raore satisfaction, or less vexation, in a married state, than he is prepared "to give'. All uneasiness, as well as pleasures are here reciprocal. If the raarried pair have but one happiness, they have likewise but one raisery. Good offices in this state are authorized to propagate their species ; and ill ones take a licence to be at least as fruitful in their kind. Whosoever hath looked carefully into hiraself, and finds no irapediment to wedlock there, raay now turn his inquiry outward in order to find a help-meefc for one so principled or disposed, as he is, or takes himself to be. As the irape diraents of body and mind, on which I have sufficiently dwelt, render the person subject to them equally unfit to choose, or be chosen ; and as therefore no prudent person, conscious of them in hiraself, would ever marry ; so neither ought he, if he could avoid it, who hath no such bars, wed with another that hath. But the question is, how he shall know this. If 294 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc. it is no easy matter thoroughly to examine and find out one's self, it must be still raore difficult to penetrate into the dis positions, the culpable dispositions raore especially, of others who naturally abhor all prying into their faults, who in order to raatch well, as it is called, use all iraaginable arts to keep their failings oUt of sight ; and as many more, to parade off every natural and acquired advantage, and to make a shew, without seeraing to intend it, not only of spotless goodness, but of excellencies sufficient to render invisible the blackest spots, if they had them. Though this now is folly, folly indeed of the grossest kind, yet certainly it requires no small degree of wisdom to detect it, and to keep clear of its snare, which is but the more apt to catch, for offering the catcher as a bait. It were better therefore, that before any steps are taken towards a match, the parties should be competently acquainted with each other on a footing of indifferency, wherein raasks and dis guises are less apt to be used. However, when an opportu nity of previous knowledge cannot be had, qualities so ex treraely bad as to forbid the banns, are generally too head strong to be totally concealed, even after overtures are ac tually raade. They will be apt to peep out a little; and that together with the industry and constraint applied to keep thera in, which cannot be so easily hid frora a discern ing eye, raay give a sufficienfc alarm. If fche baifc only is seen, ifc raay succeed ; bufc, as the wise man says, ' in vain is the net' itself spread in the sight of any bird.' But in the name of coraraon sense, why nets or artifices of any kind in a case like this ? In a married state the ill quahties of one party will equally ruin the peace of both, and the grievous disappointraent that raust follow on an un avoidable discovery, will still farther inflame the cause of discontent. Marriage is but a shorter hell, if it does not unite the husband and wife into one ; now it is impossible to pass any irapositions on either, without passing them all on that one ; and therefore they can carry with thera no wiser sort of cunning, than that of the devil, all whose schemes, howsoever destructive to the unhappy souls he deludes, are sure to leave the contriver in the hottest place of punishment at last. For this reason it is, that were I to advise, two persons who LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 295 mean to go together, should, instead of concealing, actually discover, yes, actually discover, to each other all their faults and infirmities, whether of mind or body, in the full aggra vation of every real circumstance. This is the honest way of dealing, and may prevent a too late repentance, in case they should not find theraselves made for each other. But if they raarry after all, no room will be left for disappoint ments or reproaches, for upbraidings or charges of imposi tion on either side, they having by this wise and ingenuous step, taken each other for neither better nor worse than they rea:lly are. This sort of conduct may have another very good effect. A couple, thus joined, not being able on the utraost trials afterward to discover a single fault, of which they were not rautually apprized beforehand, will not be by any raeans so apt to suspect each other of greater faults than they are justly chargeable with, as those who marry in the dark. There are, beside the more distinguished impediments, already insisted on, sorae others of a less interesting nature, and yet of too much consequence to be wholly passed over in silence, such as a great difference in fortune, family, education, temper, understanding, and the like. The habits and pursuits of mankind are carried so wide of one another by these, as to make it very difficult to unite under the in fiuence of causes so apt to divide. A great inequality of fortune before marriage is too often remembered by the more wealthy party after it ; and if not as well remembered by the other, fails not to breed abundance of heart-burnings, perhaps upbraidings, to the great disquiet of both. Of the two, it is wiser and, better to buy than to sell ; but all markets of men and women are generally as unhappy in their consequences, as they are in decent and unworthy in their own nature. Nor does a great diversity of family, though a matter purely notional, occasion a less diversity of mind. It is not easy to make one out of two, taken from the upper and lower ends of the world. The one knows as little how to soar, as the other to descend. Family makes almost as great a difference as species, and it is unnatural to couple ere a- tures of different kinds. Fortune and family produce a third difference, as cus tom hath ordered the matter, more considerable than either 296 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc in itself, a difference, I raean, of education, which, more than nature, deterraines the manners of mankind to courses often so directly opposite ; and what it determines, so rivets by inveterate habits, that a corapound of fire and water bursting forth in thunder, is not too strong a similitude for that raarriage which joins the hand of one high-born, high bred, and richly endowed, to that of another, low-pitched in all these respects. Frora nature, heightened frequently by fortune, family, and education, arises a fourth difference, that of temper, so very great, that even its goodness in two rainds is not suf ficient to prevent the ill effects of its diversity in kind. Frora a raixture of two very different wines, although hoth of the best sorts, a strong fermentation first, and then a jumble of no value, is to be expected. But if either, or both are bad in themselves, the corapound is sure to be wretched. A great disparity of understanding, as it is a hinderance to union, ought also to be a hinderance to raarriage. In conversation, the raore refined cannot relish the rude, nor the stupid comprehend the. lively and acute. In conduct then can be no contribution of counsel. Confcempt per petually breeding disgust on one side ; and envy, hatred on fche other ; the rational being and the mere animal can never grow into one. Difference in point of religion ought likewise to be con sidered as no trivial objection to a raatch : first, because as religion is the only spring of all the conjugal, as well as other virtues, no one should wed with another, who hath so little of it as to make the exchange of it a corapliment to the greatest mortal on earth ; and secondly, because when the attachraent to different religions is too strong for such compliances, that attachraent threatens the parties with discord and contention, as is usual, about the very principle of love and peace. In choosing a partner for life, regard is not to be had only to the absence of bad or iraproper qualities, but also to the possession of such as are good and suitable. This hath been strongly supposed in all I have hitherto said. True piety is the parent of real raerit, the best improver of every good natural disposition, and the only corrector of the bad. LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 297 Piety is the power of God in man, giving birth to virtue where nature had denied it, and growth wherever it is already found. This humbles, this sweetens, this taraes the most wild and untoward dispositions ; and therefore may serve for a suraraary recoraraendation of the person blest with it, as the fittest, or rather the only object of choice. All defects of fortune, and raany of person, raay be pru dently dispensed with in one truly and highly religious. As to person and countenance, it will be sufficient to observe, that neither ought to be disagreeable, because dis relish, though arising frora a single feature, may spread an imaginary ugliness, not only over the rest of the body, but also over the raost amiable qualities of the mind. However, good sense, good humour, and a fund of cheerfulness, are enough to give stature to the lowest person, and a degree of beauty to the homeliest face, if the beholder is not a fool, I mean, if he is not one of those who can see with nothing but their eyes. Upon the merits of this important choice in reference to all the heads of advice here offered, it is the business of every prudent person, after consulting fully vvith himself, to ask the opinions of his wisest and most experienced friends, ofhis parents more, especially, if they are still alive, and the rather, because, as a Christian, he cannot dispose of himself without their approbation. He is to give thera a child, at the same time that he gives himself a vrife ; and should, with a tender, a dutiful, and a grateful heart, consult their comfort in the addition of so near a relation ; as they, frora the hour of his birth to this day, have ever anxiously consulted his, in every thing that con cerned him. He should reraember, that his parents are older, and in all probability rauch wiser, as to affairs of this nature, than him ; and that God, the universal parent, is the watchful guardian of their rights. And to that all-wise and infinitely gracious Father ought he to apply with an entire resignation, and with a heart full of devotion, for that only guidance which can never, like that of men, mislead hira. Lethim earnestly beseech God not to leave him to hiraself, or the arts of others; but to forward or frustrate his present intentions, as his un erring wisdora and never-failing goodness shall judge for 298 HOW TO CHOOSE [disc. the best. As I am conscious of many and great defects in all I can say to you on this very interesting subject, to make you full amends for them all, I shut up the whole with this last advice, wherein there is no room for error, nor indeed for any addition, and so leave you in the hands of God. It is an observation, equally coramon and unintelligible, that raarriages are raade in heaven. They cannot surely be all raade there. An unhappy raarriage is, at most, but permitted by Providence ; and why perraitted, unless for the punishraent of such as neither consulfc with God's word, nor seek his blessing on their designs? Now, the reason why they do neither, is plain. Having all along consulted with the eneraies of God, that is, the flesh and the world, nay, and soraetiraes with the devil also, in forraing their designs, they know full well, those designs are of too corrupt and sinful a nature ever to be sanctified. They are therefore afraid to bring thera before God, but not afraid to carry them into execution, as if he that will not bless, were un able to curse, a practice so insolent and impious. Here now, I know you will be ready to say, if mankind were to make use ofall these precautions, to cast about, and consult at such a length, there would be few raarriages. Adraitting your observation for a truth, I answer it by say ing, there would then be few, if any, unhappy raarriages. Is it not a wiser course never to raarry, than to raarry on one principle, and hope for happiness in raarriage on another? To raarry for pride, and hope to live together in mutual con descension ? To marry for wealth, which one of the parties purposes to hoard up, and the other to flaunt away in arti cles of vanity ; and yet to hope for agreement in their man ner of living ? But I ara fully persuaded, that, were the young people of both sexes resolved to take the course I have been recom mending, instead of diminishing, it would greatly increase, the number of raarriages, and even bring them to a much speedier conclusion than the present methods. It is a long way about to adjust all the punctilios of faraily pride, to exaraine into fortunes, to search old deeds and records, to draw long settleraents with a nuraber of wary clauses, and to exaraine every piece of gold with all the nicety of a cri tical mammonist. Two minds, wisely and honestly deter- LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 299 rained to be open, might, moderately speaking, find the way to know each other sufficientiy in half the time. This is undoubtedly the way of nature, which never raoves in a curve, when she can take along a straight line. In coun tries where nature is followed, there is no sound person of either sex to be found who is grown old in celibacy ; whereas here, where nothing but art and refineraent is studied, a great part of raankind live and die unmarried, to the un speakable damage of the coraraunity, and with a still more deplorable injury to virtue. As to the condition of parti culars (the good of the public and the interests of virtue out of the question), it is plain to common observation, that the troubles incident to an unhappy raarriage, if not in their utraost extrerae, are but amuseraent to the solitude, the gloom, the raelancholy, the peevishness, the suspicion, the conterapt, the desertion in calamity, sickness, and death, ever found about hira or her who hath protracted a single life to gray hairs. All this, and more than this, which no force of words can describe, and still more than that, which the day of judgment only can disclose, might be prevented, were peo ple masters of sufficient sense and resolution to break through a set of customs, as whimsical as they are tyranni cal ; as demonstrative of stupidity, as they are productive of misery ; and going one step downward in poinfc of fortune or family, to raake a choice (for here they may choose) of the first suitable objects they meet with ; and so spend their days with that choice, in one degree less of pride and pomp than custom tempts thera to aira at. It is easy to see what a speedy raultiplication of raarriages this practice would produce, though attended with all the precautions insisted on in this discourse. A conduct so disinterested and reli gious would infallibly bring a blessing on every raatch so made, provided they, who in wedding thus take care to bow only to the true God, are as careful to observe his command, in making no raarriages with the worshippers of other gods, riches, titles, or inordinate pleasures, the idols of a deluded world. But why did I speak of going downward in point of fortune, since the prudence and good econoray espoused will probably bring in more wealth in the event, than ex pensive vanity, though for the present more amply endowed. 300 HOW TO CHOOSE [dISC. is able to produce in hand ? Poverty coraing with a great fortune, and wealth with a person of none, are not uncom mon things. -But supposing it were otherwise, it were in finitely better to have a good husband or wife with poverty, than the reverse. ' Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox, and hatred therewith. Better is a dry raorsel, and quietness therewith, than a house full of sacn- fices with strife.' If, as our Saviour tells us, ' the life is raore than raeat,' we may safely venture to say, a comforts able life is rauch raore to be regarded by one who is about to raarry, than a superfluity of wealth ; for ' neither does a man's life,' nor the real coraforts of his life, ' consist in the abundance of the things he possesseth.' Yet bow many marry fortunes only, and consider the husband or wife that brings them raerely as a trifle thrown in, and find out at leisure, that fchese fcrifles, which, if rightiy chosen, might have brightened every day of fcheir lives, are now able only to raake them miserable. Marriage is considered by both sexes as a matter of so great importance, that little less than one half of all the cares and labours of mankind is laid out on ways and raeans of making young people agreeable in order fco ad vantageous raatches. I am not going to plead for a diminu tion, but only for a betfcer application of these cares. Since marrying well is, and ever necessarily raust be, a business of the last consequence, every one ought, in the first place, to know that this consequence is not by any means so ma terially derived frora the fortune or faraily, as from the principles, dispositions, and habits of tbe persons ; and that to raarry well, is to get a prudenfc and good raan for a hus band, or a prudent and good woraanfor a wife. In the next place, ifc ought to be universally laid down as an invariable and indispensable rule, that such only are to be sought for, and that superior raerit is ever to decide the choice, against all other considerations. This will be the rule of acceptance and preference with unerring wisdom at the last day ; and can it be a wrong rule now ? a wrong rule to choose that person by, who is to raake a full half of one's self for life? In the last place, were fchis a universal rule (so strong under worse rules even now is the desire of being well mar- LXVII.J A GOOD HUSBAND OR WIFE. 301 ried, and so greatly would this increase it) the world would soon be reformed, would soon put on a new face of religion, of virtue, and of all that high and lasting happiness which flows from both. Young men, instead of being fed up from their childhood in little else than idleness and impertinence, in pride and folly, would be strongly tinctured with the love of God and goodness, would be trained to humility, meekness, and diligence in some useful calling ; and as they advanced in years, instead of foppery. and effeminacy in dress, instead of drunkenness, lewdness, swearing, and quarrelling, would use their utraost endeavours to erect on the firra foundation, early laid in their hearts, the noble superstructure of profit able and ornaraental knowledge, of raanly arts, of humanity and kindness to all raen, of honour and integrity unshaken in all trials, and of undaunted bravery in the service of their king and country. This, and every thing of like kind, they would do, as- knowing no other accomplishments capable of recommending them to a happy raatch, and as knowing also, that these could hardly fail to give them the heart and hand of any woman they should think fit to ask. And as to the other sex, were real raerit alone perraitted to fix their titles to good husbands, an eternal adieu would be bidden to almost all the present arts of catching raen. It would no longer be the sole business of their lives to learn, nor exhaust, as it now does, the whole care of their raothers, to teach thera alluring looks and airs, to inquire after fche newest fashions, to study the colours best fitted to disguise or set off their complexions, to hold long consultations with the undertakers of beauty about the best sort of washes, and to spend one half of every day in the deep mystery of setting pins. No, religion in all its most beautiful and af fecting colours, would be presented to the first dawnings of reason and sensibility in their minds. Humility, modesty, sweetness of temper, and a thorough comraand of their pas sions, would be next introduced, and practised into habits ; and the last stage of their education would be filled with maxiras of prudence, 'with raaterials for entertaining and profitable conversation, and with the rules of good eco nomy. Frora a course like this they would corae forth into the world, not, as now, ridiculous corapounds of pride and affectation, contemptible pageants of dress and fashion ; 302 HOM'^ TO BE HAPPV, [dISC. but adorned with angelic graces, sparkling with native jewels of their own polishing, and dressed for an assembly in the new Jerusalera. Now these raethods would neither shorten the stature of the men. nor darken the coraplexion ofthe women. All the natural advantages of face and person would still be pre served ; and I will venture to say, due regard being had to neatness and cleanliness, set off to infinite advantage by the majesty ofthe more manly virtues in the one sex, and bythe delicacy and sweetness of the female graces in the othei'. Here is a picture but imperfectly sketched, which never theless I wish you would impartially corapare with the des picable trifles and pernicious arts, wherewith the sexes la bour to please, to ensnare and irapose on each other in this artificial world. What a glory diffuses itself round that! what a ridicule ! what a satire on mankind grins from a hare mention of this ! If you have eyes to see, behold the infinite difference ; and God give you understanding in all things; particularly this, through Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whom with the Father, and theHoly Spirit, be all might, majesty, dignity, and dorainion, now, and for evermore. Araen. DISCOURSE LXVIII. HOW TO BE HAPPY, THOUGH MARRIED. Ephes. v. 31. A man shall leave his father and mother, and be joined unto his wife, anil they two shall be one flesh. What is here said, was intended for, and is as true, with a mere verbal alteration, of a woman. She also will leave her father and raother, that is, her nearest and dearest relations, in order to find a yet closer and mcire beloved relation in a husband. Neither, however, would do this, did they not hope, on grounds apparently promising, for more satisfaction and happiness in a new state of their own choice , than in the old, to which tbey were introduced by their birth, and LXVIII. J THOUGH MARRIED. 303 wherein they cannot expect to continue, but for a short and uncertain part of their lives. Their hopes are not likely to deceive them, if, on both sides, due care and circumspection have been employed in making and fixing the choice ; if they are good in them selves ; and in person, temper, principles, and schemes of living, agreeable and suitable to. each other. But requisite as this suitableness is, somewhat farther is necessary to their happiness. Their notions of matriraony ought to be the same ; and to be so, ought to be taken from the real nature of that, and the account given of it in the word of God, by no means from prejudices or iraaginations of their own. As to the nature ofthat state, it will be sufficient to ap prehend, that it is a society of two persons, who, while it continues, ought to have but one interest, and pursuant to that, one only scherae of life, calculated, agreed upon, and uniformly pursued by both, in order to one and the sarae sort of happiness, whereof both are to be equal partakers ; and likewise of the reverse, as often as troubles or afflictions shall occur, whether the occasion of happiness or affliction shall visit fchera bofch at once, or begin with the one or the other. They are to enjoy each other's comforts, to suffer each other's sorrows, and even to be well and sick of each other's health and distempers. All this arises frora the very nature of an alliance, founded on saraeness of interest, and on the highest degree of love which the parties are capdble of entertaining. Now, itis not in the nature of things, that either such an interest or such a love, should subsist in a so ciety of more than two, and, therefore, polygamy, though practised by many nations, is a raonster, abhorred by nature, a monster, made up of a single head and a plurality of bodies, ever necessarily at variance among themselves. This natural notion of matrimony is confirmed and en forced by the word of God, in that reraarkable passage from whence my text is borrowed, wherein the inspired apostle represents the ' union between Christ and his church,' by the ' union between a husband and his wife,' and this again, by ' the union between the head and the merabers in a natural body.' Christ loves, provides for, and governs his church, just as the good husband does his wife ; and he again loves, provides for, and governs his wife, just as a 304 .HOW TO BE HAPPY, [OLSC. wise and careful head does the rest of fche body. Invert this order, and you will see a good wife loving and obeying her husband, as a sound body does in regard to its head, and as the church does in regard to Christ. Here a sameness of interest and happiness is clearly set forth as necessary to ma triraony, that the husband and wife raay know theraselves to be but one, ' one body or flesh ;' and the subjection ofthe wife to her husband is as plainly laid before us, that, if differences should arise, they raay find an easy and speedy determination, without the interposition of a third person, which seldom leaves the contest it was called to, in a better state of agree raent than it was before. Were huraan nature as it shonld be, the husband's right to govern would always lie by as a dorraant title, and the happiness of the raarried state would be sufficiently provided for on tbe footing of unity alone, the first and raost lovely foundation whereon it is built by the holy Scriptures. But whereas our nature is corrupt, and more or less ill-disposed in the very best of mankind ; the second, which enjoins the subordination of a wife to her husband, is there also added, that peace at last may be re covered, when love is lost, or in danger. It is true, that, in nature and reason, the right of go verning ought to go with the superior understanding, whe ther placed in the husband or wife. But then, in regard to each particular couple, who shall decide its place ? Ofall points this is the last to be deterrained by a contending husband and wife. Nor can any third person possibly do it for thera, both for want of knowledge and authority. All he could do, would be to decide in particular causes of dif ference, which, besides that it would be endless, raust, by adjudging the superiority of reason in this instance to the one party, and in that to the other, leave the general merits of their understandings respectively, as rauch in the dark as ever. To prevent or reraedy this, as occasion raay require, the God of peace and order, who alone can judge in such a mat ter, and who will no otherwise than by his word, and the reason he hath given us, interfere with the contests of man and wife, hath, once for all, ruled the case, and comraanded the latter to obey the forraer in all things lawful and honest. I will not say, this rule is founded on a greater LXVIII. J THOUGH MARRIED. 305 degree, generally speaking, of natural capacity in raen than in woraen, for I know, although rauch raay be said for it, yet a good deal raay be said against it. But one thing is certain, that men in general have more strength of body than woraen, and therefore in all struggles for the upper hand, let superior reason lie where it will, raay corae off eventually conquerors. Now, pre-erainence of authorifcy, supposing an equality of undersfcanding, should naturally go with pre-erainence of strength. This strength of body, however, gives the raan a great advantage over the woraan in point of acquired know ledge ; for while the delicacy and feebleness of her body, and her bearing and suckling of children, confine the woraan to domestic cares, for which, besides, her course of edu cation raust be calculated ; the man, by his strength, i s fitted for, and carried out to labour, trade, war, and the like, which afford hira a far greater opportunity of improving his na tural talents, of growing in experience, and gathering know ledge, particularly the necessary knowledge of raen and things, wherewith he is, or raay be concerned. Add fco fchis, that to fit him the sooner and better for affairs, the course of education, as to the higher and raore iraportant branches of learning, funs unavoidably in his favour. It would be as easy, as it is unnecessary, to shew, that woraen are no better fitted by nature for the learned employments of law, physic, or divinity, than for the spade, the sword, or the ex change. As then the great affairs of the world raust pass through the hands of raen ; must be raanaged, deterrained, and finally settled by raen, it follows unavoidably, that in the hands of raen the right, as well as the capacity and power, to govern, raust be placed. I say not these things as a party (for on many occasions I could have wished, had it been lawful, that the wife had been to govern), but only as one whose duty it is to speak after God and nature, and to inculcate the general law of both. But where 1 asked, to what end I have taken such a compass on this particular part of ray subject, I should an swer, that I have done it to give all married people who hear me a right notion of the state they are in, of the terras of union for which their vows are solemnly plighted, of the tender and ardent love they ought to nourish in their hearts towards each other; and, when that love is not as warm as VOL. III. X 306 HOW TO BE HAPpy, [disc it were to be wished, of that peace, order, and decency, which the submission ofthe wife only can in that case main tain. To prevent those unhandsome, and otherwise endless, bickerings, which so often make the married state unhappy, nothing would be of so much use, as a due consideration, both in the husband and wife, of the nature of that united state they are in, which can give thera but one happiness, or one raisery, and a serious consultation with the word of God. This would teach thera fco know fcheir places, and fco keep thera, without mutual encroachments.' This would sefc God always before fcheir eyes as the awful guardian of their vows, as the blesser and rewarder of their duty, if conforraable to the terras engaged for, and as the avenger of their crime, if that duty and those terms are slighted, especially if obsti nately and perseveringly slighted. The expediency of fchis conducfc having been, for the time, sufficiently recoraraended, consider now (I speak to the niarried only) that unity of heart and understanding being as essential to the happiness, as unity of interest is to the na ture, of matrimony, it is, in the first place, your grand busi ness, whether as husband or wife, to aira at the attainment and preservation of this unity, as early and as studiously as you can ; or if it is once hurt, or lost, to labour in the second place, with all your might for the recovery ofit, as not only the foundation ofall your happiness, but the only preservative against the greatest misery, known or knowable in this life. If, after having lived together for some years, you find yourselves still one, one in understanding and heart, one in good agreeraent about the same scheme of life, in order to one and the same interest or circle of satisfactions ; you are then fitter to advise others, than to be advised yourselves ; and have nothing raore to do, than to proceed, as you have begun, and to let nothing, but the raeans of your eternal salvation prompt you to louder or more repeated thanks givings, than the sense of your presenfc enjoyraent. Let no fching, bufc the raeans of your eternal salvation, be prayed for with more vehemence of heart and soul, than a perpe tuity, during life, of that peace and love, which by the good providence of God, you have hitherto been enabled to main tain inviolably towards each other. Your singular happiness is, no doubt, an object of envy to the eneray of all good, as LXVIII. J THOUGH MARRIED. 307 was that of your first parents in paradise. ' Watch there fore and pray,' lest either his malice, or your own weakness, should, after all, open your eyes as fatally, as they did theirs, and teach you the difference between matriraonial love and discord. In case you are but lately married, and therefore have not had sufficient to try your tempers on each other, it is your business seriously to consider, that, circurastanced as you are, you raust infallibly becorae either comforters or tor mentors to each other. Indifference is inconsistent with the very nature of matrimony, which, if ifc does nofc unifce you infco one, cannofc leave you fcwo, siraply as you were before raarriage ; but raust raake you two opposites, fcwo bitter, treacherous, or suspected eneraies to each other, and to your common happiness. Ask those who have been long married, vvhether or no, there is any mediura between hap piness and raisery in that state. Their uniform report will be, that there neither is, nor can be, any such thing. Such being the case, you raust be worse than mad, if you do not use your utraost endeavours, first, to keep, at the greatest distance, every cause of dispute, and every occasion of disgust ; and next, to say and do every thing that may nourish that love and confidence, which are the food ofyour union, whereon again depends absolutely all your hap piness. As to the first, argue not about trifles, which no two ever disputed for yet, but in order to the vanity of a victory, for in themselves they are not of raoment enough to defray the charges of the breath expended on thera. But then con sider, that in every victory ofthis sort there are two, one tri umphing, and the other triumphed over ; and that a victory or triumph is the acfc of an adversary, not of a friend ; nor at all possible where there is but one. In all cases there fore of none, or of little weight, the best way is to let the first speaker carry it, lest a spirit or habit of disputing, al though begun about trifles, should proceed to matters of more consequence, like a spark among straw, which some times burns the house. Besides, people seldora dispute, be it about what it will, butlittle sallies of wit, tart expressions, inuendos, squinting at unpleasing topics, or the sly arts of seizing advantages in an arguraent, all of them irritating X 2 308 HOW TO BE HAPpy, [disc things, are wont to intrude, and too much enliven the con versation. This is not rubbing, as it is softly called, but really brushing a part with nettles, which is already sensible enough, and perhaps a little disposed to inflammation. But if you should happen to differ about a mafcter of raoment, consider first, whether it is of raoment equal to the love and peace you wish to live in ; and, if, as I will venture to pronounce it beforehand, it is not ; that is the wisest and best person of fche fcwo, who, after a sweet and soothing use of one or two reasons, firsfc seizes fche opporfcunity of sa crificing it to mutual love, by a free and cheerful surrender. In case however you are both too weak to run for this prize, supposing conscience out of the question (take care you force it not in) then the wife must give it up to her husband with all that good huraour and good grace, which become the character of her greater gentleness and pliancy oftemper. She is as ill made for disputing, as for fighting. You must take care also to prevent on both sides, every the sraallest appearance of eraulation, or airaing at prefer ences in the eye of the world, still reraerabering, that you are not two, but one only ; of alienated affections, which stab the very heart of your union ; of coolness, which threat ens its life ; of separate interests or secrets, which split you again into two, and tend, by a sort of partial divorce, to join youwith others; and of jealousy, that unpardonable reproach to the honour of fche suspecfced, fchafc dagger to the heart of the suspecting party, that incurable poison to the love and peace of both. I need not tell you that pride begets anger; anger, hatred and revenge ; and these, a dissolution ofyour union, and the ruin of your peace ; and therefore that the whole baneful plant, root and branch, fibre and twig, must be extirpated from the very ground. But it may be necessary to remind you, as of a thing not so commonly observed, that wrangling, even though it should run up into railing, is not raore prejudicial to your union, than those dark and sullen huraours, which find the way to ex press more hatred, and a worse turn of mind, by silence and sour looks, than resentment is able fco do with all its foam and sputter of words. The intimate and affectionate footing you are upon should teach you, that too much openness, or too much cheerfulness, are things irapossible in your case ; LXVIII.J THOUGH MARRIED. 309 and that there is no one expedient of so much power to pre venfc or remove raisundersfcandings, as candid and good-na- fcured explanafcions, prudenfcly fciraed fco soft occasions, wherein the real, or iraaginary causes of discontent raay be tenderly handled and healed ; or shewn to have had no other foundation, but mistake. But when all these methods of huraan contrivance are likely to prove unsuccessful, and heart frora heart begins to start aside ; it is then tirae for you to bring the causes of your uneasiness before God, to corapare them carefully with your raarriage vows of obedience on one side, and of love on both ; and then kneeling down at your bed side, there hurably to confess your faults to hira who cannofc be de ceived; fco forra your resolufcions of better behaviour here after on the particulars of thafc confession ; and fchen raosfc earnestly to iraplore the assistance of the blessed Being you are before, who infallibly will hear you, and enable you to rise ina frarae of raind, rauch better fitted for the observation of your vows, and for the iraproveraent of love and good agreement between you- I hope it will not seera, although after advice of so sacred a nafcure, iraproper fco speak fco you of one thing, whicii raany esteera but a trifle, but which nevertheless experience shews to be a raatter of great consequence in preventing rautual disgusts and distastes between married people ; I mean the preservation of that delicacy in dress, and in behaviour, on all occasions^ to each other, as far as is consistent with the intimacy of raarried people, which you were so nice ob servers of before you went together. It is now of ten tiraes more consequence to keep, than it was then to win each other's affections. And yet, for what purpose, but to win, were all your decorums and engaging civilities in the time of addressing? Why, if not for this end, did you then take so rauch pains to be clean, to shew yourselves every where, especially where you expected to meet, in your most be coming apparel? to put on your best looks and most at tractive smiles ? And why were you so watchful to keep every thing out of sight, though ever so necessary or natural, that might give the smallest offence ? You must own, it was because the contrary conductwould have raade you disagree able, or less pleasing at least. And arenofcyourfcastesthesame 310 HOW TO BE HAPPY, [dISC still ? Or, have civilities and decoruras changed their na ture, and lost their power to please ? Was it of the last consequence to gain, and is it of none to keep the affections of each ofcher, now fchafc you are joined for life, and are hardly ever fco be asundej-? You rausfc surely be sensible, fchafc the wanfc of that delicacy I ara recoraraendiug, hath raade a very disappointing and disgusting change in those agreeable per sons you took each other for, the day you were raarried. By a careful and constant observation of these rules, the causes of distaste and dissension raay be wholly banished, or so effectually nipped in the bud, that the raethods of pro moting and increasing your rautual affection raay have no thing to check their operation. These are, first, a strict fidelity fco each ofcher, not only in regard to the indivisible and incoraraunicable right in either to the person of the other ; but also in keeping each other's lawful secrets wifch an equal continence of tongue, and in proraoting the comraon good of the faraily, each in your own proper province, according to the scherae of eco noray agreed on, with all your skill and application. This fidelity will beget such confidence, and that such esteem and love, as all other good qualities are incapable of producing. This is that solid virtue which lays a rock for the founda tion of matrimonial union, whereon you raay build your hap piness as bigh as your other good dispositions can carry it, without rauch fear of- a shake, even frora your less com mendable qualities, and without any at all from the treache rous designs of others. But if to this severer virtue you can add ' the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit,' of a gentle and condescending temper, which not only ' in the sight of God,' but of your partner also, is of great price, you will wonderfully promote the harraony, and by that the love, you wish to establish. Single people may safely enough indulge themselves in par ticular humours and ways of their own, if they are not sin ful ; but raarried people must pare away abundance of un blamable singularifcies, in order to fit into the raatrimonial mould, and grow into one. Meekness and patience, if not too much let down to sla- vishness and insipidity, will be necessary to the preservation and improyement ofthe matriraonial anion, in the raidst of LXVIII.J THOUGH MARRIED. 311 those many untoward accidents, which by falling singly on one of you are apt to occasion a ruffle, too easily caught by the other, like an infection, if patience and presence of mind are wanting. Here you the party not first attacked by the temptation, though really feeling, and appearing to feel, with the other, are to keep on your guard, that you may serve as balm to the grief, or as a bridle to the passion of your be loved friend. This, on cooler thoughts, will infinitely en dear you to a grateful raind, that will soon be glad to have been coraforted under the first onset of affliction, or re strained from some wild extravagance by the staidness of your temper. Provided these amiable dispositions are accompanied with kindness of heart, and a studious endeavour on all oc casions to please. With unstinted expressions of love, which can never appear fulsome, if sincere, and with a manifest readiness ever to prefer the satisfactions, while reasonable, of your more beloved half, to your own ; no heart is insensi ble enough to be proof against a behaviour so charming. If you persevere in it for a little time, you will become an an gel in the eyes ofyour best friend, especially ifyou have an opportunity, and lay hold of it, of repaying sorae acts of un kindness with such instances and proofs of love. These will go home through the heart to the very soul. The fire of love, so extremely penetrating, will melt both your rainds, and run you down into one raass, which the art of your eneray, skilled as he is in the fire of an opposite nature, shall never be able to separate. Such is the power of these heavenly dispositions, when exerted in their full vigour, though on one side only; what then must they be able to do, when felt in equal perfection, and with equal force, on both ? Here the consequence must be a union, so entire, as to be inconceivable and almost miraculous, in the opinion of others, not so happily affected. In you happy pair, it is (I speak as to one) who can thus unite that uninterrupted peace, and love sweeter than life itself, are to be found ; that fruits infinitely over-paying all your patience, humility, and coraraand of temper, are ad ministered by the hand of rewarding Providence, not in stinted meals, but in one delicious feast, as lasting as your days ; that authority and obedience lose their naraes, and 312 HOW TO BE HAPPY, [diSC almost their natures in an overpowering love, the husband no more knowing that he directs, than the head does that it moves the hand ; and the wife no raore feeling that she obeys, than the hand, that it is moved. Heaven only, which every good couple is hastening to (through this paradise as a porch), can raise you to greater happiness, or indeed to higher glory in the judgment of right reason ; for raarriage, so circurasfcanced, is fcruly honourable, if fche reducfcion of every bad disposifcion, and the exertion of every good one, here nobly exeraplified, are objects of esteera. On this side of raatriraony God shines with the light of his countenance, and all is bright, beautiful, and smiling; but on your side, in whora the union of hearts is lost, night, terapest, thunder, spread darkness, confusion, and misery. Do you not desire, and will you not labour to recover that union, which is the foundation of all the happiness you wish for, and the only preservative againsfc fche greatest misery in this life ? that misery you feel in pangs like those of the daraned, and like thera, in bitter accusations, charge on each other ? There are raany, whom it is lost labour to speak or preach to, who are of so crooked and perverse a nature, that neither the power of reason, nor their own intolerable sufferings, have any effect on thera. These are the ' wicked who are estranged and go astray from the worab ; whose poison is like the poison of a serpent ; who are like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear, and will not hearken to the voice of charmers charraing never so wisely.' To their own teeth, stings, and poison, they raust be left for a cure. To you only, who, alfchough of befcfcer principles and na ture, have gone together on wrong raotives, and who, through an unsuitableness of raind and teraper, pursue wrong, or contrary drifts, I address rayself in tbis last part of my discourse ; and do, in the bowels of Christian charity, ear nestly beseech you to consider, that neither of you apart can be happy or miserable ; that, differ as you will in other re spects, in this at least you raust be united, that you are tied down for life to the sarae condition. This should render you extremely cautious of dividing- your interest, or laying down separate scheraes for attaining even the sarae ends. If neither can work out happiness, or so rauch as contentment. LXVIII.J THOUGH MARRIED. 313 independent of, or in opposition to the other; surely, it should be the ruling raaxira of both to aira at but one cora raon happiness, by one and the sarae set of means. Consider again, what it is you contend about, whether it be your diversions, your expenses, the manageraent of your affairs, or smaller matters depending on opinion and humour. Be it what it will, without the verge of God's commandments, ifc cannot be worth obstinately insisting on, since the forfeiture of quiet, contentment, and mutual love, is the price. Give it up therefore as a sacrifice, as a peace- offering, to prudence and the prospect of happiness. Your whole unwillingness, of either side, to do this, pro ceeds entirely from pride. You seek a victory, or you can not bear the thoughts of a defeat. But both the example and religion of your Saviour teach you, that in such cases, to yield, is to conquer, and that there is no other defeat or slavery, but submission to your lawless passions. Yet in the face of this Divine Instructor, whose name and seal you still pretend to carry, you go on to dispute every inch of ground, without so much minding the importance or insig nificance of the things in question, as the increase or dimi nution of the power you thirst after, fcill you find fche sove- reignfcy you are establishing, is like .that of the devil, only a sovereignty in fiames, in the raidst whereof you reign indeed : but reign by terror, in raisery and chains. It must surely be a very vain and a very horrible sort of mind, to which pre-eminence so tyrannical, and yet so infamous, can afford more pleasure, than all the sweets of that kind and generous commerce, which easiness of teraper, and conjugal tender ness, settle between an affectionate and rautually conde scending couple. Ifyou cannot enter with each other into a close, cordial, and temperate conference on the necessity of sacrificing every thing to peace, which I would recommend as an ex pedient the raosfc prudenfc and proraising thafc can be fchought of; you should at least separately call yourselves to a se vere account for the causes of your unhappiness. In this work, ask your understanding what you are doing, and your conscience, why. Ifyou examine fairly, you will find enough, either of injuries, or unchristian resentments, to charge yourself with, and to justify Providence in the scourge of 314 HOW TO BE HAPPY, [dISC your present sufferings, if not your husband, or wife, in be ing the' instruraent eraployed to inflict thera. Then ask the feelings of your own raind and heart, whe ther the life you are now leading is fit to be continued, and in what it is likely to end. As soon as .these questions, and their right answers have raade the proper irapressions, it will be your next business seriously and firraly to resolve on an iraraediate reforraation of all your conjugal faults. Your attempts to break the other party of his or her faults, either because they were ill managed, or because no management can prevent their seeming arrogant and invidious, have al ways proved unsuccessful, and probably ever will. Besides, you ought to consider, that yours are so many acts of pro vocation to those committed on the other side. Look there fore at home, and set every thing to rights within yourself, where you have a power ; and then you will find, that a great deal more than one half of tbe preparation for peace is finished ; for exactly in proportion as your power of rightly governing your own passions increases, in the same will your influence over those of your consort increase also. You know nofc yefc, how irresistibly, and how like a charm, the meekness and sweetness of one raind communicate them selves to another. Be assured, ifc is jusfc as swiftly and as powerfully, as fche infecfcion of bifcterness and wrafch (how that works you know too well) conveys itself frora raind to mind. However, if this method is taken on both sides, it cannot possibly fail. Peace will be its first-fruits, and a plentiful harvest of love, of comfort, and happiness, will iraraediately follow. Since you are nofc one, bufc fcwo, give rae leave to remind you of a few things separately, and you first who are the husband. You should never forget, tbat your wife hath put her person, together with her fortune, into your bands, as into those ofthe raan she loved best, and confided raost in; and that she did this, in a pleasing expectation of finding in you a generous and strenuous protector against all ill treatment from others, and all the distresses and troubles, which aman is better able to repel than a woman. To your stronger arms, and raore courageous bosora, her feebler nature hath fled for refuge in the bustle of a crowded and boisterous world, LXVIII.J THOUGH MARRIED. 315 through which she knew not how otherwise to raake her way. How base, how unraanly a breach of trust would ifc be in you, fco treat her with coldness, conterapt, or cruelty ? to becorae her chief oppressor? and to force frora her broken heart the raelancholy wish, to be again where you found her, exposed alone to a world, hard indeed and deceitful, but less insensible and treacherous than you? It is true, she is not without faults ; and who is ? Are you ? But is she to be broke of those by raethods fit only to be taken with a beast? Have you no pity for her weakness ; you who raust be lost for ever, if infinite pity is nofc afforded fco your own ? It is the property of a coward only to use any woman ill ; of a treacherous and cruel coward to use that woman ill, who hath no protector under heaven, but you ; and to whora you raade the warmest protestations before, and the most soleran vows at, your raarriage, of love as lasting as your life. What raan in the world would hurt a dove or sparrow, though but a brute, to which he had neither offered, nor promised profcection, if it should fiy to his breast frora the talons of a hawk ? But, if you will not hear me, hear the word of God, to you and to all married raen ; ' Ye husbands, dwell with your wives according to knowledge, giving ho nour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church ;' for which he thought it not too rauch to give his life. ' So ought raen to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself; for no man ever yefc hafced his own flesh, bufc nourisheth, and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the , church.' Take notice that you are here (without any con dition of proper behaviour on the part of your wife), forbid den to treat her with bitterness, and coraraanded to shew her that love which Christ hath for his church, and you have for yourself, and to do her honour. Nay, you are ' to see, that you love your wife, even as yourself,' though she should be not a hair less infirra and faulty than yourself. On the other band, you who are a woraan, and married, should never forget you are either. You should, at all tiraes, and in every instance, bear in raind, that as a woman, gentleness and pliancy to every thing but vice is your dis tinguishing character. The person and face of an angel, without these peculiar ornaraents of yoiir sex, will not 316 HOW TO BE HAPPY, [DISC raake you beautiful, nor even tolerable. There is nothing conceivable so unnatural, or so shocking, as you are, when you put on a masculine, not to say a boisterous, spirit, and set up for an object of fear. As you was raade to be loved, nofc dreaded, you are furnished with every preparative for the former, by the kind indulgence of nature ; and notwith one for the latter, unless you will ascribe fco nature that which she most abhors of all monsters, an affectation of rudeness and iraperious violence, accompanied with so much fearfulness of mind and weakness of body. And as a married -R'oman, ypu are still farther frora your natural element, if you aim at a superiority oyer your husband, whom you are obliged by nature, by Scripture, and by your vows, to obey. As one weak, you sought at first for a pro- teptor ; hath your vows of subraission given you so much strength, that nothing but that protector will now serve you for a slave ? You want to carry all your points, and do what you please ; and we, in a violent stretch of courtesy, will grant you have none but good ends in view, but must, at the sarae time, take leave to demur to your manner, both in point of agreeableness and prudence. If the agreeable way in every thing is the best, it must be raore, so in you, who was peculiarly calculated to please. How do you shock us with the reverse ! Your raanner is likewise alto gether foolish, and shews you know not where your power is placed. It is not placed, as you imagine, in a knack of disputing, nor in the brandish of a high hand, nor, when these fail, in fits, either brought on by struggles too violent for your wretched frame of body, or bpportunely pretended, as the last shift. No, your power lies in raanaging the softer and gentler passions. Here you raight be irresist ible, and do every thing, did not the insolence of your spirit set you above this araiable method. In the other way you can do nothing that will not cost you a thousand times raore than it is worth. But I foresee you will be raore apt to be angry at the raost useful advice frora a raan, than at your own folly and pride ; I therefore earnestly be seech you, as you regard your vows, and fear God, to hear hira at least, who saith unto you and all other raarried woraen ; ' Wives, submit yourselves unto your husbands, as unto the Lord ; for the husband is the head of the wife. LXVIII.J THOUGH MARRIED. 317 even as Christ is the head of the church. Therefore, as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. Let the wife see that she reverence her husband. Wives submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as ifc is fifc in the Lord. Ye wives be in sub jection to your own husbands.' This last precept is fol lowed by another, enjoining meekness and quietness of spirit, and forbidding an expensive vanity in dress. Cora pare your conduct, and the spirit it proceeds frora, with these words of God, and judge for yourself, whether you know better than he does, what you should do. Consider also, that these precepts are positive, unconditional, and leave you no excuse for a failure in your duty, let your hus band's behaviour be whafc it will. Now tell us, both of you, whether, after all, you are de terrained to go on as heretofore, and give us a proof of less sense in two pretenders to rationality, than we often find in two oxen or sheep, who grow raore tractable, and go raore quietly in their yoke, the longer they have carried ifc ; whe ther you are still resolved, at your own expense, to shew the world a raonster, with one body and two heads, each of them furnished with two faces, to smile or frown on each other, as dissiraulation or rancour shall set their features ; and whether, in a word, you can think of any longer rack ing your rainds between the wide extremes of fond and angry fifcs, in so swift successions, that all the good part of mankind are amazed, how, after such transports of tender ness, you can ever hate eacb otber ; and all the bad, how it is possible, frora hatred so keen, to return again to instances of endearraent, not exceeded between those who never quar relled. Here is the very sting of your condition. These starts of affecfcion serve but to give you a raore thorough sense of the mutual hatred which iramediately follows, and fills you wifch bitterness of soul. Could you live asun der, or avoid all occasions of kindness, you might at length take sanctuary in indifference. A palsy might take the place of this ague, in your passions ; and once for all, be numb those too exquisite feelings, which contrariety, afc present, rubs into rawness, and keeps perpetually alive. Time, which alleviates other miseries, would then cease to 318 HOW TO BE HAPPY, &C. [dISC aggravate yours. What an enemy would you think him, who should deprive your food ofall its rehsh, or cook it for you with gall ; who should rob your nights of sleep, poison every moment of your time with grief or vexation, throw all your affairs into confusion, and ruin both the morals and fortunes of your children ! This eneray you are (I do not say to each other but) you, the husband, to yourself; and you, the wife, to yourself; for want of considering that you cannot hurt or vex her, nor you hurt or vex hira, without equally hurting, vexing, and torraenting yourself, for you can have but one and the sarae condition. You have indeed another eneray, who blinds your un derstandings, who inflaraes your passions, and spreads the darkness and fire of his own abode through yours. Well were it for you, if death itself could put an end to the evils he scheraes againsfc you. Bufc unhappily, tbey are rooted in your souls ! Pride, rage, revenge, raalice, cruelty, to wards that very person, whom, by all the ties of nature, all the laws of reason and revelation, and by the most solemn vows, you are bound fco love and cherish, are crimes of the deepest die, and riveted in the very soul of you, who profess obedience to the commands of Christ as necessary to your eternal salvation, and know full well, at the same tirae, that Christ hath expressly coraraanded you to ' love even your neighbour as yourself, to forgive your eneraies,' nay, ' to love your eneraies.' Your religion fcells you, you cannot possibly be saved, without the hurable, tbe meek, the for giving, the benevolent, the charitable spirit of your Master and his gospel, towards all mankind. It expects of you, if you are married, the highest proofs of this spirit towards your wife or husband. Now, how can you hope to be saved, whose spirit is yet, in all points, the very reverse of this ? You cannot be acquitted, as a good son or daugh ter, as a good father or mother, as a good master or mis tress, or as a good neighbour ; and at the sarae tirae con deraned as a bad husband or wife. You must, on the whole of your life, be either acquitted or condemned ; either rewarded or punished ; rewarded only as a good Christian, which you can never be, if you are not a Christian, but a perjured traitor, in regard to your marriage vows. LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 319 Hepent, therefore, before it is too late ; and God give you understanding in all things, in this raore especially, for the sake of Christ Jesus our Saviour, to whora, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, be all raight, raajesty, dignity, and dorainion, now, and for everraore. Araen. DISCOURSE LXIX. VANITY OF VANITIES. Eccles. i. 14. / have seen all tke works tliat are done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit. This, if I raistake not, is the severest reflection that ever was raade on the worid. Whatsoever keen or conteraptible the imagination can paint, or experience prove to us, con cerning the follies, the vices, and tbe miseries of raankind, itis all suraraed up in this coraprehensive saying, and deli vered in the sharpest and mosfc expressive terras. The preacher does not conderan one work of raan as vanity, and another as vexation of spirit ; but he unites the two, and pronounces thera both, of each work. The very sting of the reflection consists in this, that howsoever vain and tri fling all our works are found to be, this does not prevent their giving us vexation of spirit, such is the littleness of our souls ; and that howsoever great the vexations are which they bring upon us, they are, notwithstanding this, mere emptiness and vanity, so that we get nothing to recorapense our vexations, such is our stupidity and folly. They are perfectly insignificant; yet they raake us raiserable; and this we cannot but know. They raake us raiserable, but we cannot be raade sensible of their insignificance, nor learn to despise thera ; and therefore, during our whole lives are never to be disengaged frora them. Their vanity eternally disappoints us, and their bitterness ever torments us : however, we place our wisdom in the pursuit, and hope 320 VANITY OF VANITIES. [dISC. for our happiness in the accomplishment of them. Yet ' what profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he la boureth? None at all.' The Wise Man does not level these reflections at the works of God in this vvorld. No, God, he saith, ' hath made every thing beautiful, so fchat nothing can be put to it.' Nor does he conderan the religious and virtuous works of men, which, though done under the sun, are performed with a view to things above it. He speaks very highly of ' true wisdom,' of ' charity,' of the ' fear of God,' and of their effects in the lives of good men ; and recommends an • early piety' to youth in the most affecting fcerras. But the works of raen, which he so severely lashes, are such as ' are done under the sun,' with no higher prospects than of worldly profit or sensual gratification ; with no in tention to reform and iraprove our nature, or to please our Maker ; and with no view to any being or raotive above the sun. This appears plainly enough, by the particulars, to which he applies the general censure in ray text, and which he expressly pronounces, vain, vexatious, or both. ' Vanity of vanities ! saith the Preacher, vanity of vani ties ! all is vanity. What profit hafch a raan ofall his labour which he taketh under the sun ? All things are full of labour, raan cannot utter it ; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing, although there is nothing new under the sun. Moreover, I saw under the sun,' saith he, ' the place of judgment, that wickedness was there, and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. I con sidered all the oppressions that are done under the sun, and behold the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no coraforter ; and on the side of their oppressor there was power. There is one alone, and there is not a second, he hath neither child nor brother; yet is there no end of all his labour, neither 4s his eye satisfied with riches; neither saith he, for whom do I labour, and bereave ray soul of good? This is also vanity, yea, it is a sore travail. When goods increase, they also are increased that eat thera ; and what good is there to the owners thereof, saving the be holding of thera with their eyes? The abundance of the rich will not suffer hira to sleep. There is a sore evil which LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 321 I have seen under the sun, naraely, riches kept for the owners thereof to their hurt. As the rich raan coraeth forth of his raother's womb, naked shall he return to go as he came, and shall take nothing of his labour, which he raay carry away in his hand. And this also is a sore evil ; that in all points as he carae, so shall he go ; and what profit hath he that hath laboured for the wind ? All his days also he eateth in darkness, and he hath rauch sorrow and wrafch with his sickness. There is an evil which I have seen under the sun, and it is coraraon araong raen : a raan to whora God hath given riches, wealth, and honour, so that be wanteth nothing for his soul of all that he desireth, yefc God givefch hira nofc power fco eat thereof, but a stranger eateth it ; this is va-^ nity. All the labour of a man is for his raouth, and yet the appetite is not filled. For what hath the wise more than the fool ? Seeing there be many things that increase vanity, whatis raan the better ? There is a vanity which is done upon the earth ; that there be just men, to whom it happeneth according to the work of fche wicked ; again fchere be wicked raen, fco whom ifc happeneth according to the work of the righteous. I said, thafc this also is vanity. This also is an evil among all things that are done under the sun, that fchere is one event unto all. I saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to raen of understanding, nor yet favour to raen of skill ; bufc time and chance hap peneth to all raen. That which befalleth the sons of raen, befalleth beasts, even one thing befalleth thera ; as the one dieth, so dieth the other. All go unto one place ; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.' Such are the observations and reflections raade by the Preacher on all the works, pursuits, and possessions of men, considered as relative to this life only, and as beginning at the birth, continuing during the life, and ending with the death ofthe raan. Bufc lesfc we should understand these re flections as intended only to represent the vanity and vexa- fcion incident to other raen, and not to the Preacher hiraself, who was the wisest of raen ; that which he draws frora ob servations on others, he confirms by experiraents raade on himself. VOL. ill. Y 322 VANITY OF VANITIES. [dISC ' I the preacher,' saifch he, ' was king over Israel in Jerusalem ; and I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven ; and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem. Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness. But I perceived that this also is vexation ; for in much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. I said in my heart, as it happeneth to the fool, so it hap peneth to me, and why was I then more wise ? Then I said in my heart that this also is vanity. I said in ray heart, go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy plea sure ; and behold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, it is mad; and of rairth, what doeth it? 1 gave ray heart to know wisdora, and to know raadness and folly ; and I per ceived that this also is vexation of spirit. I raade great works. I builded me houses. I planted me vineyards, gar dens, orchards, groves. I made spacious ponds and canals. I got raultitudes of raen-servants and raaid-servants, and vast possessions of great and small cattle. I gathered silver and gold, and the treasures of kings and princes ; I pro vided men-singers and women-singers, and all the delights of fche sons of raen. Whafcsoever raine eyes desired, I kept not frora thera ; I withheld nofc raine heart from any joy. Then I looked on all the works that ray hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do ; and behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit ! What can the raan do that coraeth after the king ? Therefore I hated life, because the work thatis wrought under the sun is grievous unto me, for all is vanity and vexation of spirit. Yea, I hated all my la bour which I had taken under the sun, because I should leave it unto the raan that shall be after me ; and who know eth whether he shall be a wise raan or a fool ? Yet shall he have rule over all ray labour wherein I have laboured, and wherein I have shewed myself wise under the sun. This is also vanity. Tberefore I went about to cause my heart to despair of all the labour which I took under the sun. For what hath man of all his labour ? All his days are sor row, and his travail grief; Yea, his heart taketh no rest in the night. This also is vanity.' LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 323 To hira who is ignoranfc of the world, or to him who loveth it, who is but one and the sarae raan, these reflections must appear perfectly araazing. Yet, surely, they are as true, as they may seera sur prising, since Solomon hath made thera. He, we know, was the wisest, the wealthiest, and most magnificent of kings. He out-built, out-planted, out-dressed, out-treated, all the world. He wanted nothing that could please his senses, his appetites, or his passions. He denied himself no enjoyment which his immense riches brought within his reach. He, if ever man did, knew how to taste the sweets of sensual pleasure, and leave the sour behind. Yet having tried all, having gone the rounds of every gratification, and run the gantlope of experience ; he returns with this araaz ing expression in his raouth, an expression ever found true, and yet never believed, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. What, all ! was there nothing but vanity in thy stately palaces ; thy beautiful gardens, enriched with all the deli cacies of nature ; thy tables loaded with the raost exquisite articles of luxury, and crowded with the choicest wits ofthe age ; thy powerful and wealthy kingdora, thy throne of ivory, overlaid with gold and adorned with lions ! It was indeed no wonder thou shouldst have found abundance of vanity araong so many concubines, and infinite vexation in such a crowd of wives. But was there nothing in thy wis dom ! no, for it suffered thee to kneel and pray to a log of wood. Nofching in being fche most powerful and happy of kings, who reigned long in profound peace, and in the high est honour ! Was there nothing but vanity and vexation of spirifc in all this ? Nothing, absolutely nothing, if we raay believe a sentence pronounced, not only by all thy extensive wisdora and experience, but by the infallible Spirit of God. And is it only to enjoy like poor Soloraon, who called all his grandeur, all his pleasures and possessions, vanity and vexation of spirit ; that the rest of raankind, nay, the readers of Solomon, and of a greater than Solomon, lay out all their thoughts and labours ? Do they hope for more wealth, power, peace, and length of days, than he had ? Or do they think they have raore sense and taste to enjoy with, than fell to his lot? Is it nofc rafcher for one or two of these, or for a pitiful portion of them all, tbat most men struggle? Y 2 - 324 VANITY OF VANITIES. [dISC How few are there whose humble ambition proposes to it self a higher station than that of serving so great a prince? Or whose thirst of pleasure dare so much as wish for a place at the second table in his palace, or for a raatch wifch the raeanest of his cast concubines? Yet, if Soloraon could brand his own magnificence and pleasure, which were worldly magnificence and pleasure in perfection, with the names of vanity and vexation of spirit; what gratification can the low-pitched pride of others propose to itself in a second or third-rate degree of exaltation? What contentraent can avarice hope for in a small share of his riches ? Or what en joyraent can sensuality expect in raeaner houses and gar dens, and in a less voluptuous board and bed, than his? ' What can the raan do, who coraeth after the king?' so far after hira ? But the men who place their desires on these fchings, will neifcher believe fche reporfc of Soloraon, nor of God himself, in this case. Why do they not then exaraine them impar tially theraselves, and judge frora their own experience. What have you suffered in the pursuit (I speak to the sensualist, the covetous, and the ambitious), of temporal things ? Corapute your costs. How hath your body been fatigued, your raind racked, your conscience wounded, in this pursuit? Heaven only could reward such labours of body, and such anxieties of soul, if endured for God. And hell only can punish the guilt of those detestable arts, those iniquitous schemes, that fraud, that falsehood, perjury, op pression, pollution, wherewith you have hunted the objects ofyour desires. Now on the other hand corapute your gains. Have you arrived at happiness, or even contentraent? No. Can you reasonably hope to attain to either hereafter? No. No man, not even Solomon, ever did. But I will suppose, you have gained the height you at first had in view. How are you amazed and confounded to find, that, although it seemed, when you was below, to touch those heavens of pleasure you was climbing to, yet now you are raised to the pinnacle ofall your former wishes, you are still as far beneath what you aspired to as ever. Are you able to rise yet higher, or even always to preserve the station you are in ? Let it be granted, against all experience, that there is no fear of a fall ; LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 325 yet how ridiculously, how miserably are you disappointed, to find yourself stinted by your own nature, and the insur raountable necessity of things, to as much cloth as will cover one back, and as much food as will fill one stomach? As to the finery of the garb, it is nothing, after the first wearing ; and the deliciousness of the food, nothing, after the first tasting. If your reason does not do it, your very pride and your palate will convince you, there is nothing but eraptiness and vanity in both. You have just finished a house, which you think beautiful and stately ; and although it is not good enough to be a flanker to the raeanest of So lomon's palaces, we will allow you to be as vain ofit as you please, and will also ensure it against fire. Yet behold ! after all the money, labour, and vexation it cost you, it hath scarcely entertained you two months, till it sinks on your imagination into a cottage, and seiTes only to defend you from the weather. All the flattery of your visitors cannot rebuild it. You go round it, you view it, and wonder where its height, extent, and ornaraents are gone to. But when the agonies of death seize you in it, then it vanishes frora about you like a castle in the air, and all your buildings are reduced to one, which costs you all you have, though it is but six feet in length. The' great fortune you have scraped together is nota whit raore substantial. You are no sooner used to riches, than they dwindle into poverty, and you want ten times as much to fill your desires, perhaps to preserve you from dis tress. It would be well for you however, if your riches would be neuter, and only disappoint you with their vanity. But, unhappily I you can neither gather nor hold them without an infinite deal of trouble. You had all the world, the violent and artful world, to scramble with, when you was picking them up ; and how many rugged scuffles, how many shameful tumbles in the dirt, you have had during that tirae, your meraory, and, it is to be feared, your con science, can too well recollect. And, now you are in pos session, is the pleasure of laying out, or keeping, your riches, at all answerable to the high expectations that put you on gathering thera ? No, you are as severely plagued in the decline of life with the spending, as you was in its vi gour, with the acquiring, your fortune. Your horses devour 326 VANITY OF VANITIES. [disC you, your dogs hunt you, and your servants drive you al raost to distraction. Your worthless visitors and trencher friends soothe you with their tongues, and tear you with their teeth. Besides, your wealth, thus raanaged, will in fallibly bring with it, pride, wrath, gluttony, drunkenness, lust, sickness, pain, and death. Is not this one of the sorest evils under the sun, that ' your riches,' after costing you so much, • should be kept,' or say, enjoyed, by you their owner, ' only to your hurt ?' But you say, you have too much sense to lavish away a fortune, so painfully acquired, in so foolish a manner, and know very well how to keep it to yourself. Do you? Are you not afraid of the thief, the robber, the cut-throat, the sharper, and the raan of law, worse than thera all ? Or pray, what do you raean by keeping your wealth to yourself? Will you hoard it in a chest, or never send it out, but to bring in raore ? Do you compliraent a conduct, so infinitely absurd, with the name of wisdom? You did not then gather to .enjoy ? Or you gathered only for the pleasure of caUing so many thousands your own, while you dare not make free with thera for the coraforts, it may be, for the very necessa ries of life, no more than if they legally belonged to another. After a man hath laboured like a slave, for many years, to provide fot the enjoyment of his pleasures, and the gratifi cation of his pride ; is it not a whimsical sight to observe hira alraost totally stripped of those passions he hath been all along providing for, just when his circurastances enable hira to indulge thera ? Or though he should retain those passions, to see sorae other passion, such as avarice, turn spy upon his pleasure, and raake ifc harder for hira fco wrest a little of his wealth from hiraself, than ever it was to squeeze it out of others ? With wealth enough to be envied by a lord, he is poor enough to be pitied by a beggar. Give him a penny you that go frora door to door. Is not this exactly your case ? Is not your wealth becorae your task-raaster and tyrant ? But how long think you, will you be able to keep this idol, to y/hich you are so raiserably enslaved ? ' Thou fool ! This night shall thy soul be required of thee, and then whose shall all these things be ?' Why, you say, they will be the property of your heir, and that it was for his sake, and to raise a faraily, you so LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 327 anxiously gathered, and so raiserably kept them. This might carry with it some shew of benevolence, had you a son or brother, or did you allow thera, in case you have them, any enjoyraent of your wealth, while you live. But how know you, odious raiser, with certainty, that he whora you call your son, is really such, and not foisted on you by the infidelity of your wife ? How know you, whether he does not wish for the death of so hard a father? How know you whether ' he that shall corae after you will not be a fool,' that sort of fool, which you esteera the worst of fools, a spendthrift? ' Yet shall he have rule over all your labour wherein you laboured, and shewed yourself wise under the sun. Is not this,' think you, ' vanity ? Yea, is it not a sore travail ?' But still you comfort yourself with this reflection, that, you have so tied him up, as not to leave him a power to squander your fortune, and consequently, that your narae and faraily will be distinguished araong posterity. Wretched, senseless, corafort ! What will your family be to you, when you are dead? Will they not do all they can to extinguish your meraory as an upstart, a raan sprung frora no other original but the dunghill ; who heaped up riches by low, sordid, or viler arts, and who is only a disgrace to all his descendanfcs ? Do you nofc see the vanity of all your penury, in their pride ? And are not both a sore vexation of spirit to you ? Few things give you keener disgust, than to be treated, notwifchstanding all your wealth, with disdain by every insignificant or profligate raortal, on the pride of his blood, which was originally no better than your own. And are all your labours of body and anxieties of raind laid out to enrich a family, only that the haughty coxcombs, or proud dames of your posterity may hold such men as you, and even the memory of you yourself, in conterapt, if wealth, gotten as yours was, can stick long enough to your de scendants? You hear, with the greatest indignation, a httle despicable sort of people, sunk in poverty, and drenched in vice, talking highly of their ancestors, and by a kind of popery in heraldry iraputing to themselves the honours due to men who are long since dead. This you cannot bear, especially if fchose who do it, are now poor, and have no ofcher blood fco boasfc of, but that which the sins of their 328 VANITY OF VANITIES. [dISC. profligate forefathers have poured like a puddle into their veins. Yet such are they, whora, in all probability, you will set up by the entail of your wealth. How would it shock you to foresee, after all the provision you have made for your posterity, that one of thera, having spent his inhe ritance, and being through pride and sloth incapable of earning honest bread, shall become the dastardly slave of some fool, the despicable fool of some villain, for no other wages than vexation of spirit? Or that another, reduced to the same circumstances, shall betake himself to theft or robbery, and carry your dignified name to the gallows? It would not perhaps give you rauch less concern, could you foresee, that the fortune you are now ransacking sea and land for, with infinite toil and danger of your life, probably of your very soul, is in the next generation to be lavished away araong fools and knaves, and to pass, by death, or extravagance into the hands of those who have not a drop ofyour blood in their veins ; who, it raay be, are descended from your servants, or enemies ; and who shall ' call your house and estate by their own names,' while they blot out the meraory of yours frora among raankind. Will you not therefore, as these are no uncoraraon cases, consider what you are doing, as ' vanity,' and what raay follow, as ' vexation of spirit ?' Perhaps your riches have brought with them an hono rary title, or your heart is set on that, or on some high place in the state. In this desire, there is gross vanity ; and both in the pursuit and accomplishraent of it, you must lay your account for great vexation of spirit. Your ambi tion is but a low thing, if it does not wish for a crown; it is also a wrong thing, if it looks not so high, in case a pro bability of success should offer itself; for why arabition at all, if it is to be checked, before it hath attained to its highest object, and in that its highest gratification? But consider, whether it is really great to be a slave. Yet are there in the galleys or mines such slaves, as on thrones? Do not princes depend on whole nations and armies ? And surely a dependence on so many self-interested, fickle, and false people, hath neither real grandeur nor happiness in it. Besides, the lifeof a prince is that ofa hare, harassed with continual apprehensions and fears. The dog that turns a LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 329 wheel, or the hackney-horse, the flesh of whose shoulder is laid bare to the draft, have more rest and ease than he. And what is there to make him patient under all this ? It is ridiculous to be told. A little pageantry and finery ; a little state and attendance. You have seen a horse in a waggon, dressed out with ribands and fringes, and at every step jingling two or three little bells. In this you have seen the emblera of a king. Here is the very pinnacle of vanity ; and vexation of spirit, in perfection. Every wise king will, at least when he comes to die ; raake you the sarae report of royalty that Soloraon hath, raade. But you say, you aira not so high, and would be satis fied with some inferior degree of power and grandeur, wherein more ease and safefcy are fco be found ; and I answer, you know neither your own passion, nor fche objecfc fchat passion aspires to. It is impossible, your ambition should ever rest in any thing short of independent power, nay it is well, if it can sit down con,tenfced with even that, and not wish for power without limits or control. Besides, you know not, it seeras, that the higher you go in this progress, the vanity and vexation will increase, at leasfc in proportion to your ascent. There are other things perhaps which expose you to va nity and vexation, whereof you ought to be well aware, such as your strength and beauty. As to the firsfc, ifc will be sufficienfc, 1 hope, fco reraind you, fchat it is only the strength of dusfc and ashes ; fchat there are other raen, and nurabers of brutes, rauch stronger than you ; and that, not only a thousand unhappy accidents, but the siraplest thing in nature, a draught of water, or a blast of wind, is able to throw up your heels, and lay you either on a sick bed, or in your grave, so that the puniest raan of your acquaintance shall say, wifch a kind of triuraph, 'bow vain is strength ! how easily is it overthrown !' Ifyou are vain of your coraely countenance or fine per son, you are, of all mortals, the most likely to be a fool. What is beauty at best, but the bloora of a very perishable flower, over which the wind passeth, and it is gone?- Do you value yourself for a regular face, a straight bone, or a white skin ? Poor conceit indeed ! and never found but in a low and little soul. All your excellence sits on the sur- 330 VANITY OF VANITIES. [disC. face ; and, unhappily for you, frora thence only serves to keep up a dangerous coraraunication between your inward weaknesses and outward teraptations, perpetually intro ducing thera to each other, and acting the part of a traitor and procurer, till your raind is ten tiraes raore distinguish able for its deforraity, than your body for its beauty. And then, what are you, but a pretty cabinet, full of trifles and trash, or of dung and poison? The vanity in this case is visible, and the vexation of spirit is keenly felt in the mi serable effects of that pride, or wantonness, to which your beauty hath betrayed you. Ofall things, you are raost apt to be vain of your under standing and knowledge, as appears by your resenting no thing so warraly, as an imputation of defect in this particular. Now, araong all the kinds of vanity, this is unquestionably the raost absurd, because your knowledge is nothing, if it does not raake you sensible, you are a very ignorant crea ture. This is so plain a truth, that you raust be perfectly stupid, not to have found it out. How often have you been stiffly pereraptory, and haughtily confident of that, which, in a few rainutes afterward, you found to be a gross and sharaeful raistake ? Blush for this by yourself, grow mo dest, and you will be wise. Vanity and erapfciness, in this instance, are but different naraes for the sarae thing. We seldora see a raind swell so rauch, as that which hath little or nothing within. You raust be wiser in your own conceit, than Soloraon, or you would confess your wisdora to be vanity, as he did, when he pronounced vanity and vexation on all the pursuits of this life. If ' your eyes are opened,' what do they see, but ' your own nakedness ?' what are all your critical refineraents, but irapertinence ? and what do your disputations, wherewith you distract yourself, and tease your acquaintances, discover, but a smattering raind, that bewilders ifcself, and seeks fco raislead orfcriumph over those of other raen? Do you not erabrace opinions just as you do your estate, merely because you had them from your father, or as you do your raistress, raerely because you love thera? Or do you not reject opinions, and turn infidel, be cause you think, you know too rauch to believe any thing, and are too wise to learn ? There is no one thing under the sun, wherein there is LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 331 more vanity, and which gives occasion to more vexation, than custom. It is even grown to a proverb, that a man had better be out of the world, than out of the fashion. But if right reason were fco govern us, we should fchink, ifc was fche devil's Soloraon fchafc raade this proverb ; for what does it prescribe, but that ' an evil custora, grown old, should be kept as a law,' though never so much folly should be au thorized, or wickedness countenanced by it ? You that live at the fountain of this evil, I mean in the fashionable world, are you so enslaved, as not sometiraes to think it inconsistent with that liberty you value yourself so much upon, to have your method of eating, drinking, dressing, conversing, and doing the raost natural and necessary actions of life, pre scribed to you by the will of others, perhaps of the vainest and wickedest of mankind ? Ifc were a thing much to be wished, that the dominion of this tyrant extended only to such as can afford to be fools, and not, as it actually does, to the lower ranks of people. Folly and vice run down in the channel of exaraple, frora the king even to the scullion and beggar, in a full tide, so that an awkward rairaickry of that which is deeraed genteel is often seen araong the meanest of mankind, on whom rags and fashion find a way to unite. Expense follows. Distress pursues that, and so vanity and vexation, interraixed, corae to be established by a kind of law. Another vanity, which you may have observed, if not pro moted, is, as Solomon hath expressed ifc, thafc 'fchere be just men, to whom it happeneth according to the work ofthe wicked, and wicked raen to whora it happeneth according to the work ofthe righteous ;' thatis, wicked men who prosper in oppression, and all manner of iniquity ; and good men who are persecuted, merely for being good. Thus sin is honoured, and virtue disgraced, in the sight of raankind, and therefore the best natures retire and hide themselves in obscurity, while the worst, push for fortunes, rise to places, and grow as able, as they are willing, to do mischief. If you have ever seen a man of each character on the stage of life together, it is odds, you have seen the bad raan splen didly attended, assisted, caressed, and alraost adored by the spaniels of power, who know how to f?iwn on the fowler, to set the prey, and share it ; while, in the raean tirae, the 332 VANITY OF VANITIES. [dISC. good man, you raay have observed, is either neglected, or treated with the utraost cruelty by the greater dogs of fac tion, who worry hira in his fortune, and by the sraaller curs of private spleen, who stand at a distance, yelping at his character. The service you pay to God, if you are not one of a thousand, is as liable to the censure in ray text, as the enormities I have already raentioned. How seldora do you go to his house or table, if you have a call of any conse quence elsewhere? And, when you do go, how rarely do you give him more than your lips? Do you not find more warrath in your heart to a thousand other things, which you ought to despise or hate, than to hira whora you ought to adore and love, with all your soul? There is no work under the sun, done so ill, done so carelessly and stupidly, as the work of religion. God is the worst served of all masters, the worst paid of all creditors or benefactors. Others get thoughts, actions, things ; he little raore than words and empty professions. This is the ' vanity of vanifcies.' This is a ' vexafcion of spirifc,' even of fche Holy Spirifc. Bufc fchafc which makes eraptiness and vanity, with a wit ness, of all that is done under the sun, is death, the conse quence, the punishment, the ridicule of all other vanities. One climbs the hill of ambition, another amasses wealth; one pursues pleasure, another deals in parfcy, and state plots; one raakes long voyages, another fights dangerous battles; this oppresses, that is oppressed ; this labours his body, that racks his mind. See how their passions and drifts inter fere ! what a face of bustle and iraportance ! Death, as the poet says, grins horribly a ghastly sraile at all this. The raoraent he lifts his hand, they perish, and are swept away like a bed of ants. All they thought, did, desired, possess ed, vanishes into nothing. ' The king and the beggar lie down together,' and the worm raakes his supper on that body, which was attended by dukes at dinner. O the des picable figure that is raade by worldly grandeur, under the hand of deafch ! raan lays oufc all his fchoughfcs, and his very soul on a scherae, and deafch reraoves hira in fche raidst of ifc, and fchen all his fchoughfcs perish, and his very soul with thera. He hiraself passes away like a shadow, and his de signs, like dreams. His body rots, his memory stinks, or LXIX.J VANITY OF VANITIES. 333 is extinguished, aiid you can no raore trace his passage through the world, unless by the reraerabrance of his criraes, than you can ' the pathway of a keel in the waves.' One philosopher, observing the insignificance and folly of all we do, laughed at every thing, as vanity. Another observing the raiseries that attend the follies and vices of mankind, wept at every thing, as vexation of spirit. Solo mon, taking both together, saith, ' I have seen all the works that are done under the sun, and behold ! all is both vanity and vexation of spirit.' What then shall we do in such a world? ' Lefc us hear the conclusion of the whole matter,' as it is drawn by fche Wise Man himself. ' Let us fear God, and keep his com mandraents, for this is the whole duty,' and we raay add, it is therefore the whole wisdora and interest, ' of raan.' Let us lift up our eyes frora the erapty shadows of this life, ira portant only in their power to deceive and grieve us ; ahd let us fix thera and our affections on the great and solid things above. This world was raade for raan, and therefore raan was not raade for this world. It was raade, however, only for his teraporary subsistence, and as a nursery to breed up children to God, and heirs of a better world. Here therefore every thing is fitted for children, and not for raen, who cannot possibly resfc in such fchings as are uncertain, and by no raeans of equal exfcenfc with their desires. Since every thing here is uncertain and unsatisfactory, let us con sult our faith, and lefc us seek for a befcfcer and raore perraa nent inheritance hereafter, such as raay fill our utraost de sires, and gratify to the full, without fear of change or dis appointments, of disgust or reraorse. Since every thing here is vexation, let us seek for happiness in true religion, in a clear conscience, and in hopes of peace at the last. We raust look above the sun for a place, where there is no vanity, no vexafcion of spirit. To lay the foundation of our happiness in this world, is to build on the sand and the waves. Let us therefore endeavour to raise ' a building, eternal in the heavens,' that when we fail here, and becorae bankrupts of earthly possessions, ' we raay be received into everlasting habitations.' God give us a gracious admittance there, and let his holy and glorious name be magnified and praised for ever more. Amen. 334 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC DISCOURSE LXX. ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, WHO GAVE YOU SIX. ExoD. XX. 8. Remember the sabbath-day, to keep it holy. Lest in the extrerae eagerness and hurry of our six days pursuit after worldly things, we should forget that the seventh was reserved frora the beginning and consecrated to God and religion ; this coraraandraent sets out with a divine admonition, to recollect the approach of that solem nity, and to cease entirely from that pursuit, at the com mencement of a day, so equally appropriated to the honour of God, and the happiness of raankind. We should therefore hear the call of God, expressed in this word, ' remeraber,' just in the same manner as we should do, did he on the evening of every sixth day, cry out in a voice, audible to all mankind ; ' Give ear, O ray people, to the notification of ray sabbath, on which you are to enter in a few hours, and so dispose yourselves, as to cease, the raoraent it begins, from all those labours, to which you were doomed for original transgression ; your labours, even for the necessaries of life, but raore especially those, wherein you are occupied by your vanity, your voluptuousness, your avarice, your arabition, labours fit only to desecrate ray day, which cannot be kept holy, if it is not offered up to rae by the very contrary dispositions of mind, by an entire cessa tion frora worldly business, and by a truly religious service.' Thus Almighty God addresses us in the first words of this commandraent; wherein it is farther to be observed, that, whereas, in every other coraraandraent he only enjoins, or prohibits, soraewhat to be done ; in this, as of raore ge neral consequence, than any ofthe rest, he both commands, 'reraeraber ray sabbath-day, to keep it holy,' and forbids, ' in it thou shalt do no raanner of work ;' and that we may consider it as wholly appropriated to himself, and not be in vaded by this worid without irapiety and sacrilege, he far- LXX.J WHG GAVE YOU SIX. 335 ther tells us, ' that it is the sabbath of the Lord our God,' his peculiar enclosure of time, whereon he ceased even from bis own work, as if not sufficiently sacred for so high a so lemnity. He ceased, and so should we, to give time for the contemplation of his works. Whenthe all-operating mind thinks fit to make vacation, we his rational creatures, ought to be no otherwise eraployed, than in the review of ourselves, and all he hath created for us, that together with his other works, we may again be, what he, at first, pronounced us, and gratefully declare with him, 'behold all is very good.' So raany out-works, placed round the duty here incul cated, raay possibly be regarded by the unthinking as dis proportionate to the importance of that duty, compared with the duties enjoined, at least in sorae ofthe other command ments. What, (may such a one say) is more care taken to prevent sabbath-breaking, than idolatry and raurder ? By no means. This hasty querist should know, that every guard against the violation of this commandraent, is as rauch a guard against the transgression of the rest. This is the only positive commandraent of the decalogue, the observa tion whereof is made subservient and necessary to that of the other nine, wherein no ofcher dufcies are enjoined, than such as result frora the relation we are placed in to God, and our brethren. Well as that relation is generally deeraed to be known, and clearly as those duties raay seem to spring from it ; were no particular time set apart for an inquiry after either, nor for the practical enforcement of them on our affections, no tirae at all would be given to those pur poses by the generality of raankind ; the streara of business or pleasure would perpetually carry our thoughts downward to this world ; God, and our relation to hira, would be un known, or forgotten ; and men, becoming ignorant, that he is the guarantee of social duties, would be little better fchan wild beasts fco one anofcher. All hisfcory, sacred and profane, is a verification chiefly of this assertion. He knows little of the world, as little indeed of himself, who hath not ob served an almost universal disinclination in human nature to religious inquiries and duties ; to those inquiries, as they lead to these duties ; and to these duties again, as they lead to compunction and dread of future retribution. Without a sabbath, that is, without a proper proportion 336 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. of our time, appointed by divine authority, for the instruc tion of the coraraon people in religious knowledge, and for the habitual exercise of devotion in those of higher rank, no knowledge of thafc sort is rafcionally fco be expecfced among fche former; bufc lifctle of ifc among fche latter; no spirit of piety and devotion araong either. But in proporfcion as we give God his day, so, proportionably shall the knowledge, the fear, the love of God prevail ; and with them the prac tice of every virtue ; for the religion, to be acquired by a due observance ofthat day, is the only efficacious principle of real virtue, as that is, of real happiness. Taking it for granted, that all who hear rae are Christians, I raust farther take it for granted, fchafc fchey agree wifch me in fchis accounfc of Christianifcy, as in a fundamenfcal truth, and therefore consider the sabbath as an institution of divine authority, and of infinite utility. Since then this solemnity furnishes an opportunity for all other religious inquiries, let us now lay hold of it to inquire. In the first place, into the nature and end of the institu tion itself; that. In the second, understanding clearly what ifc is, and why it was appoinfced, we raay be the betfcer prepared fco make a righfc applicafcion of it, I raean to ' reraeraber and keep it holy.' In the first place, as to the nature of this institution, it consists in an exeraption, by divine appointraent, of one day in seven from all unnecessary labour and business, re lating to our worldly callings and affairs. This appears from fche meaning of fche word sabbath, which. signiBes, rest; frora fche express terms ofthe coraraandraent; which forbid us to do any manner of ' work thereon ;' and from so many other passages of the law and the prophets, as leave no room for a doubt on this head, either amono- Jews or Christians. The Jews, particularly in latter times, so overstrained the prohibition of works on the sabbath, as to abstain from works of necessity, and even of charity, deeming ifc unlawful on fchat day to defend theraselves and their capital against the public eneray, and to beal the sick. Christ and all his followers, throughout every age of the church, understood the prohibition as levelled against all worldly work on this day, and kept the day accordingly. LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 337 As little doubt can be raade, I conceive, araong the ra tional and pious part of mankind, whether infinite wisdom and goodness could have intended the sabbath for a day of mere rest to the body, whereon absolutely nothing was to be done, either by thafc or the mind, which would reduce it to a day of idleness, that is, of vice; for that idleness is a vice. productive of innumerable other vices, cannot be soberly questioned. If however a cessation from bodily labour is admitted, which it raust be, as the matter of the institution, and the recovery of strength and spirits, as its imraediate end ; we raust afc least expect to find another, more useful still, and better fitted to justify the wisdom of its author, for men may rest at any time, when they find themselves fa tigued, without the solemnity of a law. The nature of the institution will best appear frora the consideration of its ends, which were, first, the refreshraent of the body, exhausted and enfeebled by the labours of the preceding work days, which makes the bare resting on this day in sorae measure useful, and distinguishes it from raere idleness ; and secondly, the coraraeraoration of God's resting on the seventh day from bis work of creation, which, we shall presently perceive, is an end of infinite use and dig nify. Such, with an eye to all mankind, and throughout all ages, were the purposes of Almighty God in appointing this solemnity from the beginning. But in regard to the church of Christ, a greater still was added at the change of the day from the last to the first of the Jewish week, namely, the coraraemoration of our Saviour's resurrection on our pre sent sabbath, when he rested from the work of his new cre ation. The sabbath, we ought how to observe, considered in these ends of its institution, is a most instructive memorial, a festival greatly exceeding all others, in the joy and grati tude it calls us to, for the being we have received frora the hands of God ; for the dignity of that being, which is rank ed but ' a little lower than that of angels ;' for a whole world, created in order to our comfortable accoraraodation ; for the conquest of sin by the sufferings, and of death, by the resurrection, of our blessed Saviour, ' who was delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justification,' who VOL. III. z 338 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. hath redeeraed, renewed, and brought us into the family of God. Fixing our eyes attentively on these ends, and clearly un derstanding what the sabbath is, and why it was appointed, we shall, so far, be prepared, in the second place, to makea right apphcation ofit, that is ' to reraeraber and keep it holy.' During a total cessation frora bodily labours and worldly cares, the vacancy ofthe raind, together with the recovering- spring of the spirits, afford us a most incomparable oppor tunity of meditating, with more than coraraon feelings, on the goodness' of God, who, ere he introduced us to this scene of things, prepared and stored it, not only with ne cessaries, but with every corafort, every ornaraent of life. In what abundance hath he poured out the materials of food, rairaent, houses ! What a spacious, what a verdant, what a beautiful carpet hath he spread under our feet ! tis sued with an inexhaustible variety of flowers, that charm the eye and ravish the sraell ! refreshed with innumerable springs, rivers, lakes! diversified with hills, dales, groves! and those peopled bya choir of rausical performers, that leave all the efforts of art far behind ! What a carpet ! ex ceeded rather in raagnificence, than beauty, by that blue canopy, which he hath stretched over our heads, the aque duct, below, of all our dews and rains, and enriched above with a profusion of celestial luminaries ! What a verdure under us ! What an azure over us ! How is the eye, at once, fed and entertained by both ! How is life refreshed and raaintained by the air ! how all its actions and motions di rected by the light ! No sooner were all these, and ten thousand other accom modations, prepared in an exact conforraity to the wants, the senses, the affections, the wishes, of their intended pos sessor, and to the faculties and powers of his understanding, than he was himself raised oufc of the earth (from which, but for this act of alraighty goodness, he had never differed) and vested, as the favourite of heaven, with the lordship of all. The unthinking hearer will startie, when I tell him, all this is nothing in coraparison of fche power dispensed to us, by, the rational faculty, of knowing our benefactor; of knowing, and by that knowledge, of enjoying God himself; of knowing and enjoying, by a grateful celebration ofthis LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 339 festival, that God, to whora all his works, howsoever beau tiful, magnificent, glorious, in theraselves, are but a blank, a nothing. Is it possible this day should call us to yet higher know ledge, to the exeraplification of divine goodness, in more astonishing, more affecting instances, than these? Yes, hitherto we have touched only on the bounty of God ; his mercy will carry us farther. After we had trampled on his bounty, and ungratefully abused it in all its kindest effects ; after we had done every thing to provoke his displeasure, and pulled on our own guilty heads the sentence of ever lasting shame and misery ; frora the throne of heaven (hear it with unutterable wonder and love, O ye sons of the dust) from the throne of heaven, from the hyrans and hallelujahs of all its hosts, he flew, o/a. the wings of inconceivable mercy ; took our now wretched nature, and, with ifc, laid on his own guiltless head tbe load of all our crimes ; suffered the punishment due to thera ; and as the most hated of all criminals, was scourged, buffeted, spit on, crucified, by our own hands, that he mighfc obfcain for us ' fche glorious liberty of the sons of God ;' and that we may be justified in our hopes of rising, after death, to eternal life, he rose again from the grave, and, to the end of the world, is present with us, guiding our"" ignorance by his gospel, and aiding our weakness by his grace. To acquire a corapetent knowledge, and to irapress on our hearts a lively and lasting sense, of these delightful truths ; in the perforraance, the proof, the propagation whereof, as real facts, and as articles of saving faith, unbounded wisdora, and power, and mercy, were all employed, if not exerted ; is the proper business of this day ; and to adore in transports of joy and love, the exem plification of these afcfcributes in our Father, Saviour, Com- forfcer, is the right method of keeping it holy. What heart of ice can be cool to it ? What raind of block or stone can forget it ? To forget this soleranity is to forget the creation of a world, forined solely for ourselves, at the very instant that this world eraploys all our thoughts, and engages all our desires; is to forget our own being, to forget the author of that being, and of every thing that can ensure the happi ness of that being, of every thing that can support the body, or save the soul ; and not only to forget, but to forfeit all. z2 340 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [DISC What leisure is tbere for him who is busied all the week about his worldly affairs, to learn these truths ; or for him whose heart is hurried off at all other times, to the plea sures, profits, or vanities of this life, to recall it into the presence of God ; but on his day ? The sabbath, a time of rest for the body, and of application of the soul to God and his holy religion, sbould be understood as a remainder of original righteousness and happiness, enjoyed ere the curse of labour and sorrow fell on transgressing mankind, and as a type ofthe eternal rest promised to our souls in the restitution of all things. It should be considered as a day of grace, whereon the king of heaven and earth lays open the gates of his palace, and invites his subjects to corae and apply for his favours, and rejoice before him as on a festival, celebrated alike by himself and his whole kingdora. Is there then a tirae when, the whole race of mankind are called to hear the voice of God, and to send up theirs in united prayers and praiges for all his mercies, wished, or received ? And is there a soul, so lost to gratitude, and it self, so daring a rebel to God, as to be absent from an as sembly, where God is present, and where a world is on its knees? Were we only ordered to rest and rejoice on this festival, the reason and gratitude of a sensible raan would point it out to hira as a time of rejoicing before God, as a proper season of drawing nigh to hira in every act of thankful re collection, as he hath done to us in nuraberiess instances of goodness and raercy. The very nature of the solemnity, as instituted by God for a raemorial of his gracious dispensa tions towards us, sufficiently intiraates this application of the day to a thinking and grateful mind. If he hath not told us all he expects of us on this occasion, it is probably because there is no prescribing the degree of gratitude, proper to be shewn by the obliged, in any case ; the bene factor is always the last to do it, our own thoughts being here the only decent monitors. What an affront should we suppose, other benefactors had offered to our sensibility, did they deraand our returns in plainer terras, than God hath used in those of his institution ? These are intelligible enough in ray text, where we are LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 341 ordered to keep this day holy. Now absolute inaction, both of mind and body, can sanctify nothing. Industry, wbich in itself is a virtue, and preservative, besides, of all other virtues, had never been suspended, during a seventh part of our time, by a divine law, had it not been the intention of the lawgiver to appropriate that tirae to the higher virtues of piety and devotion, and to the necessary acquisition of religious knowledge. It follows therefore, that, while the body is at rest, the raind is to be eraployed in its own proper work of religious cultivation. And by what means can this be better accoraplished, than by reflecting, that ' the sabbath is set for a sign' between God and his people, to reraind them of his infinite goodness to them, and of the services they therefore owe him ? But why do I talk of services, as if Christ had not, long since, told us, that ' the sabbath was made for man?' It was surely appointed more for our im provement, than for any benefit the all-perfect Being could have expected from the very best we can do. He who keeps it holy, will find in the end, that it hath kept him holy, and made him for ever happy. If this is a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving for all the mercies of God, more especially of creation and redemption, how can it be sanctified by those acts of devotion, if these raercies are not feelingly remem bered ? and how can they be thus remembered-; if they are not first well understood? And how can they be at all un derstood, I mean by the bulk of mankind, if this only op^ portunity for the purpose, at least in regard to the poorer sort ; is not laid out on inquiries after God and his religion ? Or how shall the poorer sort be won to this, if the richer and higher part of the world appear to pay little or no respect to the sabbath? Will mere sensual and riotous re joicings sanctify the fesfcival ? No, fchey are fitfced only to celebrate a day to the devil. It was for this reason, that God by Isaiah so sharply re proved the sabbaths, as kept by the Israelites in the tirae of that prophet. ' Your sabbaths, and calling of asserablies, I cannot away with ; it is iniquity, even the soleran raeeting. When you make many prayers, I will not hear ; your hands are full of blood.' You join iniquity, concupiscence, and oppression to my institution, and think to raake it a cloak for your crimes. Wherefore as you apply it to purposes; 342 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. directly contrary to ray intention, raine as it is, you have made it ' an aboraination to rae.' But if you vvould celebrate my sabbaths and other ordinances, in a manner acceptable to me, • wash you, raake you clean, put away the evil of your doings frora before raine eyes ; cease to do evil, learn to do well. Blessed is the man that keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and his hand frora doing any evil.' That the sabbath-day was the proper and usual time, both for public prayer, and for religious instruction, is plain frora the practice of the Jews, whose forra of prayer for the service of the synagogue, and whose custora of repeating that, and of reading and expounding the Scriptures, on this day, to the people are known to every one ; as it is, that Christ himself conformed both to that service, and that custom. And that the inspired apostles, together with the whole Christian church in their tirae, followed the sarae method of praying and preaching, to which they added the eucharist, and alms-giving, is equally plain frora Acts xvi. 13, where public prayer; frora Acts xx. 7, where preaching and break ing of bread; and frora 1 Cor. xvi. 2, where contributions for distressed brethren, are all raentioned, as regularly prac tised on the first day of the week, or the Christian sabbath. Having 'now seen, what the sabbath is, to what neces sary ends, and sacred purposes, it is dedicated by the ex press appointraent of God himself, and how, in consequence of his coraraandraent, it was kept holy by those who hved and acted under the iraraediate direction ofhis Spirit; what can reason think of such as profane it by worldly business, settling accounts, transacting bargains, taking journeys ? Or by idleness, strolling, visiting, sleeping? Or by an affected and supercilious conterapt, both public and private, of that insfcrucfcion, fchat devotion, that gratitude towards God for all the blessings, which the soleranity of the day so natu rally and loudly calls us to ? Or what is left for chanty, the most tender, to think of those who, restrained by the laws frora labour and business on this day, greedily lay hold of it as an opportunity to indulge theraselves in amuse ments (so they call them), which no rules of virtue, or even decency, can tolerate on any other day ? What an additional blackness do the crimes of lewd and hbertine discourse, of LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 343 scandalous assignations, of rioting and drunkenness, assume by being perpetrated on the sacred day of God ! and more frequently too, than on other days ! what an insult on the raajesty of heaven ! what a sacrifice, rudely snatched from the altar of God, and even ostentatiously hurried by some to that of his enemy ! Profanation is infinitely too soft a word for such practices as consist in an impious perversion of that which is raost sacred, to purposes enorraously flagi tious. But as if these execrable encroachraents on piefcy and common decency were nofc sufficienfc proofs of confcempfc for infinifce Majesfcy, and afcfcachraenfc fco fche aufchor of sin ; I ara fcold, ifc is, of lafce, becorae usual, araong fche raore dig nified slaves of fashion, to celebrate the day of God with cards and dice. How blaspberaous a sound is raade by the conjunction of that awful narae with those implements of wickedness, even in a discourse intended to lash that wick edness ! Play, in its most favourable sense, that is, when trifles only are staked, is of all arauseraents, the most senseless ; and never called to the relief of any, but such as are heartily tired of one another, and of themselves. Whosoever therefore says to his corapany, let us have cards, says in plain Eng lish, let something, any thing, be done, to parry the extreme stupidity of our conversation. What raean they who com plain, that life is short, and yet have recourse to a pastime that wastes and cuts off so great a share of it ; nay, that, by an alraost total inaction, exceedingly irapairs the little health, on which life subsists, and, for the tirae, degrades the rational being, the Lord of this world, into a raere raachine for shuf fling and flinging paper? They call this, killing tirae. Shock ing expression ! Is it possible, they can be so grossly igno rant, as not to know, that he who kills his tirae, raurders himself? At what a stand is the econoray of our farailies, and the infinitely more important economy of our rainds ; at how dead a stop, the improvement of our intellecfcual powers ; or rafcher, how rapidly backward does it run, while we are at play ! But as this piddling tends strongly to lead us into a habit and taste for gaming, properly so called, it is but the school of wickedness, and the bye path of fools to vice ; for, 344 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. Gaming, that is, playing for considerable sums, is wicked ness, if there is any such thing as wickedness, on earth, or in hell. Avarice, iniquity, and atheism, are the very prin ciples, on which it is built ; avarice, because the gamester covets the property of another, and plays on that motive alone ; iniquity because he covets the property of anofcher without the least intention to give him value for it; and atheism, because he puts chance, if not villany, in the place of Providence and honest industry ; for, as an opinion, that the world was raade by chance, is the atheisra of the head, so garaing, which is a wish that it were governed by chance, is the atheisra of the heart. It raay be naturally expected, that a raind, thus principled, should pursue its schemes at the gaming-table by sharping and the basest arts, and should lie perpetually exposed to the most outrageous passions, to oaths, blaspheraies, quarrels, and murders. These things, surely make, gaming a vice on any day of the week. What then must it be on the Lord's day ? Is the prac tice of a vice, so monstrous in itself, and attended with sucb shocking effects, a proper method of corameraorating the goodness of God in giving us being, and every means of making that being happy ? Is he in a way to iraprove his raind, and so to ensure the favour of God, who, in the eager pursuit of ill-gotten money, purposely keeps God, religion, his soul, eternity, out of sight, at the very tirae appointed for a close attention to thera all, purposely, I repeat it, that his irapious arauseraent raay help hira to fence against the intrusions of the day upon his ulcerated conscience ? I know nothing so fitted to give us a dreadful idea ofthe tiraes we live in, as the elaborate apologies we hear every where made for garaing on the Lord's day. One or two I beg leave to take notice of. ' Other nations, as good as we, fchey tell us, think it nei ther sin nor sharae, to game on Sundays.' As good as we! If they are not a great deal better, their customs have no right fco become precedenfcs. Ofcher nafcions worship false gods, even fche devils and pracfcise, every day, all raanner of wickedness. Is this a reason why we raay do the same? Is every custom right, and fit for our imitation, that obtains in foreign countries? All our vanity and luxury, iraported by an equally foolish, flagitious, and ruinous imitation of I.XX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 345 foreigners, are here justified by these apologists for gaming, on the same footing with their own favourite vice ; and well indeed they may, if that can be defended, from which alone tbe exorbitant expense of those fashionable vices can hope to be supplied with speed, proportionable to their im patience. But is fashion to found itself only on borrowed customs ? How mean, to be wicked merely at second-hand ! Oris fashion, howsoever founded, absolutely to govern those who are forbidden, by the first rule of action, to 'be con forraed to this world.' But, too rauch of this. Another plea for garaing on Sundays is couched under a pretended regard for the day. ' Sunday, say some, is a time intended for relaxation and rejoicing, which are im practicable, without some amusements ; and cards and dice are as innocent amusements, as any that can be had, espe cially if we entertain ourselves with them in so private a manner, as neither tb tempt nor offend the weaker part of mankind by the notoriety of the practice. Besides, gaming, add they, is, in an evening, the only preservative, we know of, against hard drinking.' The sabbath, it is true, is a day of relaxation for the body, but not of looseness and licentiousness for the mind, which is authorized to rejoice on this day indeed, but nofc profanely, nofc wickedly, we may be bold fco say. This arauseraenfc is both wicked in itself and horribly profane, when practised on the Lord's day. Fine arausement, no doubt, which tends, by a wild waste of time and thought, to an utter dissipation of conscience and fortune ! Fine arause raent, enjoyed by one part of the corapany in plunder, no less iniquitous, than that of robbery (behold the innocence !), and suffered by the otherin the raidst of distraction and torture, too dreadful for the raalice of an eneray, who curses in the bitterness of his soul ; behold the amuseraent ! But if garaing on the sabbath is really an innocent arause ment, and so well fitted to the festival intention of the day, why is it not as suitable to the place of devotion too ? why do you not carry the garaing table into the cliurch, where there is likely to be room enough in a little time ? You start, as if I had talked of setting up an altar to the prince of darkness in the house of God. But why is fche place of God's worship, which you only have appoinfced, held so rauch raore 346 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. sacred, than the time, which he hath appointed by an ex press comraandment ? A veneration for the one is not more superstitious, than forthe other ; at least you have no colour of right to think it is, and your posterity, refining still far ther on your own plan, or rather exaraple, will, with as much reason, game in church, as you now do on Sunday. As to the privacy, wherewith you purpose to cover this practice, it is but a flimsy pretence. You know very well, that no thing done by persons ofyour eminence, can be concealed. Your servants know and publish every thing you do, your very crimes, as precedents for vulgar imitation. Nay, you yourselves are apt to vaunt on other occasions, what, on this you so poorly excuse. The last part of your apology for gaming on this or any other day, to wit, that it diverts you from hard drinking, must, no doubfc, be adraifcted as solid and satisfactory from men who can be amused, it seems, with nothing but wickedness, and know not how to parry one vice, which they do not like, but with another, which they love. Should the coramon people, and the poorer sort, fall ge nerally into this practice of garaing, especially on Sundays, which give them leisure, what opportunity will be left them for inquiry after religion ? Will not universal ignorance be the consequence ? And will not universal wickedness be the effect of that ignorance ; if the great ones (I ask, because two or three such, both in eminence and wickedness, there possibly raay be here), if the great ones, I say, set the pro fane example, will not the little ones follow ? It is always their reigning arabition to ape the great as far as they can ; and they can raore easily ape those above them in this, than in their vices of higher gout. And what care we, you will say, whether they imitate us, or not? Stupid! stupid in perfection ! You have not, it seeras, considered, what sort of tenants or servants a race of Sunday garaesters will raake ; nor how little is to be got by lording it over a footraan, as genteel, or fleecing a tenant, as necessitous as yourselves, with minds as ill-principled, as desperate, as your own, and ten times bolder. It is with a shudder, but mixed with a sort of indignant pleasure, that I foresee the chastisement you are preparing for yourselves, by this enormous vice, in the shoals of high- I'XX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 347 wayraen, footpads, and cut-throats, which it will infallibly produce among your dependants. Considering the prodi gious propensity in the lower ranks of mankind to imitate the upper (and all are upper who are richer), it were really much to be wished, that the great, when resolved to be wicked, would be greatly wicked, I raean, would find out some new extraordinary species of sin, wherein the sink of mankind could not so easily participate with them. People of distinction, who cannot otherwise be sufficiently singular, might surely distinguish themselves by their vices, and not leave ifc to every inferior fellow, to be as bold with heaven for farthings, as they for guineas ; to sharp, swear, and profane the Lord's day, as fast as their betters. Pity ! that there is but one real distinction among mankind, that is be tween the good and the bad. Pity ! that vice is becorae a leveller, as well as virtue. Had the meanest of the people been in power, just nine and fifty sessions ago, and trained to gaming, particularly on Sundays, they could, with as good a grace, as tbe best among us, have bought and sold one another, and played away the nation. To the orator on the ladder, who, with raore pathos, than a Tillotson or a Seeker, holds forth on the vices of sabbath-breaking and gaming, should this whole group of beings, whether in silk or drugget, whether in coaches or behind them, be reraitted both for precept and exaraple. These tart reflections on those who openly, atheistically profane the day of God by a vice which no words can scourge with sufficient sharpness, are not raainly intended for their reformation, who seldora corae hither, and when they do, come only to conteran what they hear ; but for your use, who begin to act, fchough not yet to think, tis they do ; who have sorae respect for religion, but more for fashion ; who fear God over your prayer-book in the morning, and insult hira over your cards in the evening of this day, who run upward or downward, with the tide on which you see the dignified mob afloat. It is as uncomfortable, as it is awk ward, to halt befcween fcwo opinions ; but infinitely more so to attempt a journey in two contrary directions at once. 'You cannot serve God and Mamraon.' You cannot serve the Master who presides in this place, and hira who governs at the card-table, especially in one day, and thafc appropri- 348 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [DISC. ated solely to the forraer. ' If the Lord is God,' is your God, ' serve hira.' Give him not one half of a heart, which he made wholly for reason, religion, and himself. 'Follow not after a multitude to do evil,' when you see, how much beyond the present stretch of your consciences, they carry that evil ; and consider, how probable it is, that you your selves, abandoned by tbe grace of God for nibbling at an of fence so provoking, raay soon have as wide a swallow for it, as they. The discountenance given to fchis enormifcy by his majesty's exaraple and proclamation, hath, for your encou ragement, made it now as unfashionable, as it was always wicked. You are not of that class yet, who contemn the fashion, only when God and the king are at the head of it. If you do not resolve and vow against this enormity, now that in the house of God you are called upon so to do, how shall you ' dare' again ' to tread in his courts,' and enter into his presence ? Know you not, that he who keeps the fourth coraraandraent, as it ought to be kept, sets hiraself in the fairest way to keep all the other nine ; and fchafc fche fcrans- gressor of fchis ' is guilty of the whole law,' inasmuch as he offends against the authority of the Lawgiver who imposed the whole ? Reraeraber, I beseech you, that the providence of God hath not raised you to riches and distinction, but for the gracious purposes of doing honour to him and his religion; of leading his lower and poorer people, by good examples, in the path of piety and virtue ; and of relieving their ne cessities, as often as sickness and disasters put it out of their power to support themselves and their unhappy fami lies. Remember, that you are kept up in affluence by fcheir labour, and the bounty of Almighty God ; and that to riot over their heads, and affront him with the fruits of their la bour and of his bounty, at the gaming-table, and on his day, is a conduct, that must be severely accounted for before the common Benefactor and Judge of you both. Remeraber, that your faces never sweat for one morsel of bread ; that God in respect to rest, ease, and pleasure, hath given you every day of your lives for a sabbath, and exerapted you alone frora the original curse of labour, that every day of your lives ought therefore to be gratefully consecrated to him as a day of thanksgiving and good works ; and that in- LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 349 stead of this, to desecrate your days of business by making folly and sin alraost your only business, and to encroach with the vices of your other days, on that which God hath reserved to hiraself, is directly to insult him with a total dis appointment of all his gracious purposes, and an utter per version of all the goodness he intended you, and the rest of mankind, through you. Is it possible, that piety, which brought you this day to the house of God, should suffer you to continue in practices, so wholly repugnant to your principles, to your good sense, and to all the important ends of the solemnity ? No ; surely it is not, cannot be possible. Keeping the sabbath, agreeably to the ends of its insti tution, is, I think, to a good mind, or one that wishes to be good, attended with such comfort and satisfaction, as no other exercise of its powers in this life can possibly bring along with it. The acquisition of knowledge is, in itself, exceedingly pleasant to an inquisitive nature. But the knowledge of things, so surprising, so affecting, so exalted ; knowledge, so perfective ofour nature and happiness, without which we can neither be good nor happy ; without which we raust be despicable and miserable beings for ever, is an attainraent, infinitely exceeding all others, in the benefit, the honour, the joy, it is capable, on this day, if kept holy, of coramu nicating. Hath God appointed a day, whereon he purposes to assemble us, in order hiraself to teach us, by his own words, how to live for ever, for ever happy ? How should we long for that day ! How entirely, how strictly sabbatical, without a command, should we ourselves raake it, that our whole attention might be riveted to his instructions ! Were God, on this his day, and at this his house, to present us with a charter of inestiraable privileges, and honorary titles, toge ther with the grant of an iraraense estate in fee, conveyed to 'us in the same deed, how should we hasten to receive it ! How listen to its contents ! How labour to understand and remember, on what terms of suit and service we are to hold it! B^old ! this is the day, this is the house, and there is the charter ! wherein the glorious privileges of ' the sons of God,' the titles of ' king and priest,' with an empire, wider than the world, and endless as eternity, are contained and 350 ROB HI.M NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. offered ! Who then can stay away ? or, being present in person, can be absent in thought? Did we conceive ourselves to be invited afc fchis time not only to knowledge so necessary and delightful, and to a grant so inestiraable, but also to exercises, infinitely ex ceeding all our sensual pleasures, in a flow of joy, pure, transporting, lasting; were we invited to the conteraplation of ourselves, and of this our own proper world, as the works of a Being infinitely beneficent to us ; were we invited to a close consideration of this Being, labouring, suffering, dying, to save us frora raiseries, too horrible, and to bring us to joys, too ravishing, too glorious for human iraagination to conceive ; were we invited, at those times to a near and in timate enjoyment of that Being in accumulated blessings frora hira, and reiterated acts of gratitude and love from us ; were we desired to bring our children and dependants with us into his presence, in order to hear hira speaking, and to speak our wants and praises to hira ; and were his company afc our own dwellings engaged fco us for the reraainder ofthe day, to be lengthened out in coraraunications, so infinitely honorary, so full of joy; how should we pass fchat day! Could we give it to a worldly business ? Could we yawn it away in sleep and drowsiness ? Could we prostitute il to despicable amusements, to silly conversation, to cards, or dice ? Whence, then, in the name of wonder ! the unnatural, but general disrelish to a party of pleasure with God and the whole court of heaven ! Is it because we are commanded to enjoy ! that we cannot enjoy, that we even loath ! But, if through the raiserable weakness of our nature, not long able to keep up its taste for the raost refined and de lightful kind of pleasures, our minds should begin to lose their spring, and to flag into devotional dulness; there are a variety of amusements, so equally well suited to the solem nity of the day, and the refreshment of our piety, that I cannot do better, than just to hint a few of them to you. Warm and affecting conversations on the goodness of God, heightened by others, expressing a deep sense ofour own unworthiness, and -ending in mutual exhortations to greater love, and better services, for the future, like fruit after a plentiful raeal, would add considerably, both to our digestion and pleasure. LXX.J WHO GAVE YOU SIX. 351 Close researches after rehgious truth, coolly, and can- didlymanaged in dispassionate conferences on the important, but controverted points of religion, afford at once a high degree of entertainraent, and a prodigious accession of strength to the rational powers, exercised thereby, as wrest ling does to those ofa body, nourished with wholesorae food. As the prejudices ofthe proud are riveted by their disputes, which differ but little from scuffles, and end in nofching, bufc defeats or triumphs ; so, on the contrary, fche errors of the humble are dispersed, and truth, with a very sensible per ception of pleasure, are the issue of those mental embraces, wherewith the candid engage in all their argumentations. The perusal of books on all sorts of religious subjects, particularly such as have been written by men of true piefcy and genius, wherewifch our language abounds, above all ofchers, and wherein a force of reasoning, a fund of learning, and of sacred wit, together with samples of oratory, not ex ceeded, scarcely indeed equalled, by the writers of other countries, will amuse as fast, and as plentifully, as they in struct. Frora these, the transition will be easy, with men of edu cation, to such as contain intelligible systeras of astronoray, and natural history, or point out the raethod of making ex periments. To dive, by the assistance of the microscope, into the minute, but exquisite works of God, to sift the light by the help of a prism, and to expatiate, after the hand of creating wisdom and power, through its immense perform ances in the starry heavens, is an eraployraent, inconceiv ably delightful, and surely rauch better fitted for the day of God, than making experiments with dice, and studying the effects of chance, that god of Atheists. With thoughts, enlarged, and raised above this world, by such contemplations, and with hearts melting in a lively sense of God's infinite bounty to you, look out for your fel low-creature, who shivers for want of clothing, who lan guishes on a sick bed, who hears the cries of his starving children, in tbe raidst ofa total inability to relieve thera, or who pines in a loathsorae dungeon, shut in from that sun, that light, that air, those innuraerable blessings and beauties of nature, which courfc you, on all sides to a variety of plea sures ; and bring the necessary supply, fchat a coarse coat. 352 ROB HIM NOT OF THE SEVENTH, [dISC. and a morsel of wholesome bread, may enable him too to raake this a festival, that is, to rejoice, and bless God; and that your charity rebounding to your own breast, raay turn the sabbath into a jubilee there. If, after exercises of this sort, each faraily should de voutly join in prayer, and where proper voices and instru raents are not wanting, should conclude the festival with a hyran to the glory of the great Benefactor; how can vve iraagine a day raore happily spent? Can sraall or trifling arauseraents fill up the vacuity in rainds and hearts, where God and all his works, and all his mercies, and all our gra titude, raight have found room ? Consider (I speak to you who are raised above others in this world), consider the dignity of your own nature, and the grandeur of those pleasures you are rendered capable of, and this day invited to ; and disdain the very thoughts of such, as sink you into littleness and baseness of soul. Con sider that crowd of your poor fellow-creatures, who are go verned raore by your exaraple than by all the laws of God and man. Consider your own souls, which cannot be happy, if you lead theirs through wickedness to misery ; and for the sake of both ; for the sake of God the Father, who gave you being ; of God the Son, who died to save you ; of Ood the Holy Ghost, who, I trust, is now assisting you with his grace ; consider carefully what hath been said to you on this subject. Consider it, you also, whose narrow circumstances allow you hardly any other leisure, but on the Lord's day, to learn that religion, without which you cannofc possibly be saved from vice, infamy, and raisery, in bofch worlds. Obey not an earfchly raaster in an act of rebellion against the Master and King of all. Follow not an earthly raaster, whora you see plunging headlong into destruction, bofch of soul and body, by pracfcices, on the Lord's day, too full of guilt to need the additional provocation of profaneness. Obey God rather, in reraerabering the sabbath-day to keep it holy. Follow after Christ, who, although Lord of the sabbath, sub mitted to the commandment, and kept the day holy in acts of piety, devotion, and charity. The sabbath was made for you, that you might know the true religion, and enjoy God. Insist on your privilege ; and raay that God give you un- LXXI.J THE CHURCH OF CHRIST, &C. 353 derstanding in all things, particulariy in this, for the sake of Christ Jesus, our Redeemer, to whom in the unity of the ever holy and glorious Trinity, be all raight, raajesty, dig nity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. DISCOURSE LXXI. THE CHURCH OF CHRIST CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. [a free and open expostulation -with the dissentebs.] 1 CoRINTH. I. 10. Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and tliat there he no divisions among you ; hut that ye he perfectly joined in tlie same mind, and in the same judgment. The Apostle takes occasion thus earnestly to press the Co rinthians to uniformity both of sentiment and speech, be cause ' he had been told, there were contentions araong thera,' the converts of Paul, of Apollos, and of Cephas, hav ing split into so many sects, as they had teachers, and dis tinguished theraselves, in an invidious raanner frora one another, by the naraes of those teachers, as if each had pro fessed a separate religion ; whereas they had ' but one faith, and one baptism,' which could be no raore divided, than Christ, the ' author and finisher of that faith.' He conjures them, ' by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,' to lay aside these schismatical distinctions, these foolish divisions, that 'being joined perfectly together in the same raind and judgraent, they might all speak the same thing.' A raodern libertine would arraign the purport of this ex hortation as unreasonable, and insist, that so raany men could not be of one raind, and therefore ought not to speak the sarae thing. Nay, sorae of our present sectaries, although they differ in raany plain points with one another, and in this of unifor raity, with the church and the Scriptures ; yet find the way to agree with the libertines in their principle, that unifor- voL. III. 2 a 354 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC. mity of sentiment, as to religious matters, is impossible. But common sense and experience vouch for tbe Scriptures in the point before us, and shew that multitudes of men, not only may, and do, agree about things that are plain, but that they can hardly differ in relation to such. No church nor society of Christians could ever be formed, were it not possible for men to agree in sorae religious principles ; nor could such societies be governed, if their respective mem bers did not think it their duty peaceably to yield obedience to their governors whom they take to be properly autho rized, even in cases where the governors, and governed, differ in judgraent, provided the latter do not understand the matters, about which they differ in opinion with their rulers, to be essentially or unalterably ruled by Scripture against the raind of those rulers. As on the one hand, all Christian liberty, all ingenuous inquiry, and all edification and improvement, in religious knowledge, must be given up, if the rulers of the church raay arbitrarily prescribe the principles and practices of tbeir subjects, though ever so repugnant to Scripture and reason ; so on the other, all order, all comraunion, all peace, all ecclesiastical society and government, must cease at once, if the opinions of private men are not submitted to the judgraents, and tbeir obedience paid to the authority, of church governors duly empowered, in all things not unal terably prescribed by Holy Scripture and reason ; because there can be no administration even of the things so pre scribed, unless the circumstances and raanner of adminis tering them, which the Scriptures usually leave unlimited, be submitted to the governors of the church. The Scrip tures, for instance, nowhere prescribe the posture in which the sacrament of the Lord's supper is to be received. In one national church therefore the governors raay order it to be taken standing ; and in another sitting. But if in a third they shall judge a raore devout and humble posture fitter, why shall they not be obeyed ? Whose liberty does this abridge ? Or how can any man of sense and temper say, the governors of the church ' take too much upon them,' in ordering one posture for the sake of uniformity; and that the humblest posture, for the sake of devotion? To quarrel with authority, when so modestly, so devoutiy, so LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 355 rationally, exercised, as in instances like this, is, in effect, to disclaim all authority, and to act the part of a child, equally foolish and froward. If ecclesiastical rulers may be disobeyed in things of this nature, and the peace of na tional churches disturbed on difference of opinion about matters wherein the salvation of raankind is so reraotely or so minutely concerned, farewell to religious order and go vemment ; farewell to Christian charity. Suppose in this instance, which may serve for all others of the like kind, the governors of the church had gone too far in raaking this circumstance necessary to comraunion, although the Scriptures have not raade it necessary, who is raost to blarae ? The governors for imposing a posture in itself in different, or rather by custom consecrated to acts of devo tion ? Or the dissenting merabers, who break communion and oppose the national church under which they live, for a matter of no consequence at all to the conscience of any man? Let reason, let love and charity speak. Is a Chris tian to lay a greater stress on such trifies, than on the peace of the church, and that uniformity so pressingly recom mended in my text, while he owns he is acted, rather by an aversion to the injunction, than to the thing enjoined, as if the prerogative of our spiritual governors, could only serve to desecrate what it endeavours to recommend, and by au thorizing, turn those things into sinful which it found indif ferent. This is to pervert the very nature of things, inas much as it is the property of power, whether civil or eccle siastical, to give a sanction to whatsoever it enjoins, pro vided no law of God forbids it. If this is a spirit of liberty, and is to be recoraraended to the nation, as well as the church, sure I ara it can no where subsist, at least no where have free operation, but in a state of absolute anar chy ; and of course, liberty and society must be incorapatible. If in any church the governors have appointed no usages that are superstitious or wicked, and but a very raoderate number even of such, as the tirae, the place, and other cir cumstances have recommended as fit and expedient; if they have likewise provided, that every meraber of the church wherein they are intrusted, may easily have all things, made necessary to his salvation by the word of God, and be tied to nothing forbidden by that word ; he can never 2 A 2 356 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [DISC. excuse his separation frora it, because whatsoever else he raay dislike cannot be of consequence enough to justify a division; nor can he have in tbis any more right, than in respect to the laws of the land, to prefer his own private judgraent to that of his rulers. Now whosoever coolly and candidly examines the established church of this kingdom by these rules, will find it so conformable to thera in all respects, as to leave little or no shadow of an apology for separation. How comes it then to pass, that so many even of our Protestant brethren have thought fit to dissent frora it al raost ever since the Reforraation ? Why do they shun its service and its coraraunion, as if they regarded conformity with it, in the ligbt of a dangerous or damnable sin? I say dangerous or damnable, because they can never justify their separation from it, unless they bave reason to think, that conformity deserves either the one or the other epithet. One half of our dissenters seem to pay little regard to what we say concerning the sinfulness of schism, as well when we argue frora Scripture, which they interpret in an other sense, as wben we reason frora the ill effects of the thing, to which they are ready to answer, that although he resies and schisras are attended with some inconveniencies, yet in the main, they do raore good than harra. Besides, they soraetiraes stick not to raaintain, that God is better pleased with variety than uniforraity, in the rehgious senti raents of raankind. So say the Deists, but surely if reve lation says any thing, it says the very reverse. Nay there is not a raan who talks at this rate, who does not either la bour, or wish, to have all raen think as he does. How are these two things to be reconciled ? Is God such a lover of variety, as to be pleased with contradiction and contrariety, like this, in the same man ? But the rest are as ready, as we, to expatiate on the sin of schisra, and to give it all its aggravations, whether arising frora the raalignity of its own nature, or frora the shocking effects it produces. And here they enforce what they say, just as we do, by the same passages of Scripture, understood exactly in fche same sense. They agree with us, that bro therly love is the essential sign of Christian discipleship ; that it is in vain to expect Chrisfcian love and charifcy, wifchout uniforraity ; that Christian ' charity is greater than faith and LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 357 hope ;' and that therefore it is the indispensable duty of every Christian, as far as in hira lies, to think and speak the same thing with the church of Christ. Nay, they agree, that on all these accounts, and many others, too tedious to raention, the sin of separation, wherever it lies, is a gross, a crying, an unchristian sin. They farther own, that there is a palpable schisra between thera, and the established church of this kingdora. But then they insist that the sin of that schism lies at the door of that church, which hath imposed, say they, unlawful and unscriptural terms of coramunion. Now among all the transactions of the church frora the apostolic age down to this, I know of none managed with more temper, more tenderness, more regard to Scripture, or primitive practice, as delivered to us by written, not pre tended oral tradition, than the reformation of fche church of England. The English divines who engaged in fchat work, were men of great abilities, of great piety and candour. But not caring to trust altogether to themselves, they called to their assistance Peter Martyr, Martin Bucer, Paul Fagius, and others, the most judicious and moderate of the foreign divines. These good men, who either lived confessors, or died raartyrs, for what they did, having a just and prudent regard to the Papists on the one side, and the Protestants on the other, raade the Scriptures the rule of their reforma tion, that they might comprehend the Protestants ; and re tained a small number of ancient usages, such as they judged most decent and useful, though practised by the church of Rome, that they might leave a door open, for the yet un converted Papists. Their perseverance and sufferings are, I think, a full proof, that they had not the sraallest hanker ing after Popery. And their culling frora the church of Rorae, or rather frora antiquity, such cereraonies and por tions of the liturgy, as neither reason nor Scripture con demned, shew us, that they did not proceed merely on a bigotted and narrow-hearted spleen to that church. Had they retained any thing superstitious or wicked, practised in the church of Rome, they had shut the door against their Protestant brethren. Or had they retained nothing, they had shut it against the Papists, who were at least one half ofthe nation ; and had given occasion to all men of reason to look on them, not as the candid and conscientious re- 358 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC. formers of a church, already in being, but as the partial and arbitrary institutors of a new church, unauthorized by the practice either of the apostles or fathers. They did not slavishly follow either the Lutherans or Calvinists who had quarrelled about the Eucharist, and other things, but took from both what they thought best. They gave us a lifcurgy in the vulgar tongue equally devout and rational, that we may know beforehand what we are to offer in our addresses to the Almighty God, and not depend on prayers uttered only in our narae, and perhaps mixed with matter unworthy of the object. They gave us a system of articles, together with a book of homilies, to be subscribed by the clergy, that we may not have Papists, Arians, Jews, or Turks, but real Christians, for teachers. And lastly, they left the church to be governed, as it had been in every former age, by bishops, not by nominal bishops, subject to the control of the pope ; but by bishops so constituted and empowered, as Tiraothy, Titus, and all other bishops were, before spiri tual usurpation had sunk the dignity and sanctity of their office, and rendered it suspected to some, and odious to others. A work, conducted on such principles, and with so much prudence, might have expected universal approbation from all the rational and candid ; nor was it disappointed. Every one at horae, who had any right to that character, closed with it, and rejoiced in it; while the raost erainent foreign reforraers, of the like teraper and turn of mind, paid it their hearty congratulations, and lamented their own misfortune in not being able to bring their honest attempts to so happy a bearing. However even this could not satisfy all. The greater number of the Romanists still stood out ; and many Pro- tesfcanfcs, fcoo warra to be always governed by reason, dis sented, to the reproach ofthe Reformation, and the infinite disquiet both of this church and nation. Whence then arose the separation of these latter, so well affected to the Reformation, and furnished with an establishment, to which no reasonable objection of any weight could be made? The Protestants, who had fled abroad from the persecution under Queen Mary, returned too strongly prejudiced against Epis copacy and a forra of prayer, and too deeply tinctured with Calvinism, to approve of what had been done here, although LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 359 the English reformers, had leaned more to Calvin, than to any other foreign divine. But because they did not adopt his discipline, nor admit and reject, just as he had done in every thing, as loud a cry was set up against our church, as against that of Rome itself, by these raen of raore zeal than judgment, who from thenceforward could see nothing but faults in the English establishraent, and laboured with too much success to raake others see as they did. First they were displeased with the cereraonies retained, both because they had conceived an utter aversion to all ce reraonies, and raore especially because those cereraonies had been used, although in a different raanner, and with quite another view in the church of Rome. Besides, they could not bear to see any thing inthe public service, although ever so good and proper in itself, that had ever made a part, in that of a church they hated with something more than Christian animosity. They suspected this ingenuous proceeding, of somewhat too like an inclination to relapse into Popery. They more particularly disliked our kneeling at the sacraraent of the Lord's supper, because that posture was used by the Papists in adoration of the Host. All that was said in the public acts of the church, and the discourses of our divines, against that use of the posture, as idolatrous, was not suffi cient to dissipate tbeir suspicions. In short, the spirit of opposition to every thing used by the church of Rorae, ran so high in them, as to affect their respect for the ancient creeds, and for the Eucharist, which because it had been so grossly adulterated and perverted, both in the opinion and practice of the Papists, was therefore held in a sort of con tempt, and but seldora celebrated by these raistaken zealots. The Quakers afterward went a little farther, and threw out both that and the sacrament of baptisra, calling thera rags of Popery, and beggarly eleraents. This of all things gave the greatest check to the Reforraation, for on this account the unconverted Papists held itin the utmost conterapt, and looked with infinite abhorrence on men, whom they saw on the point of discarding the very essentials ofreligion, purely out of hatred to them. Hence it was that numbers of them, who were sufficiently dissatisfied with their own profession, were still less pleased witb the Reformation, because they could neither see, in such a wood of parties, which was best 360 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC, entitled to a preference, nor foresee wbere the extravagance of reforraation was likely to end. They saw our church es tablished indeed on a footing, not altogether disagreeable to thera ; but they had reason to apprehend, it would nofc long maintain its ground, in the midst of an opposition, main tained with all possible art and virulence. They thought it tberefore better to settle on the lees of their old errors, than after a long and painful fermentation, to find the little reli gion theyhad, either soured into fanaticisra, or evaporated into downright infidelity. Neifcher did fchey care to entail on their posterity an endless train of oppositions, disputes, uncertainties, wherein prejudices, as senseless as those they were to quit, were likely to predominate and involve their adherents in nuraberiess raischiefs, temporal as well as spi ritual. ' What,' said they, ' have we to do among men, who had rather tear the body of Christ to pieces, than pray by a form of words, the raost pious and rational, because some tiraes uttered by a Papist, and who cut the throats of one another about surplices, organs, and rings ! Is there no dif ference between reformation, and destruction ? Or have these spiritual physicians no other way to cure, than to kill? Less than this is usually sufficient to make men rest in an adherence, sucked in wfth their mothers' railk, and rooted in their hearts by a prepossession of many years. The next thing the Puritans took offence at, was the hierarchy of the church. They looked on the bishops, as the instruraents of papal tyranny, and the corrupters of true religion. They were therefore of Machi'avel's mind, who said, ifthat monk, meaning Luther, who is now endeavour ing at a reformation in Germany, does not cut the very core out of this boil, namely episcopacy, it will grow again, and render vain all he hath done. They, as if taught by this raaster, were, it seems, so ignorant, as not to know, that the bishops, ofall men, had most reason to oppose the usurpa tion ofthe bishop of Rome, who had raade hiraself the only bishop, and reduced all the rest to cyphers. Nor did they consider, whefcher ifc was in fche power of man, to abolish at his discretion, an order of fche church, insfcifcuted by God himself, merely because the men who filled this order, had degenerated, together with all the rest of the church, into superstition and luxury. Her§ again the scheme ofour op- LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 361 posers was not to reform, but to destroy; and what was equally bold, to begin a new ministry, with hardly any other mission, than such as a number of men, and sometimes one man only, wholly unauthorized, for aught that others could perceive, should assume. Frora raen thus sending thera selves, or sent by we know not whom, we are to receive the sacraraents. And, what is raarvellous beyond all concep tion, this new species of ordination, though apparently of huraan institution, is now becorae too sacred to be inter rupted, while that which seems at least to be of Christ, is laid aside. But why, in the name of wonder, may we not as well have a new mission every day ? Hath the church, or rather the multitude, lost its faculty, so prolific two hun dred years ago in the equivocal generation of missions ? We must not forget however, that these new orders lay claira to Scriptural institution, and priraitive exaraple. What, all of them? And without succession? Do we hear of any raan in Scripture who ordained himself, or who presumed to take the ministry of God's word and sacraraents upon hira, with out being sent eifcher iraraediafcely or successively by Christ? Or can an instance of this nature be assigned during the first fourteen centuries of the church ? Or will even those Protestants, who adopted a new raission at the Reforraation, now suffer any one fco administer the sacraraents araong thera, without ordination, obtained in succession frora that- adop tion? Do they not by this strictness, practically confess at least the expediency of such a succession ? But if a suc cession ofthis nature raay be warrantably founded on their invention, why not on Christ's institution ? Perhaps however they who gave rise to a new current of ordination, were imraediately authorized so to do, by divine inspiration. This, I believe, will hardly be now insisted on. But if it is, and supernatural inspiration proved, even that will not serve the turn. So sacred a thing is the succession of ordination, that the Holy Ghost, who had already enabled Barnabas and Saul fco preach the word, ordered ' thera to be separated for the work whereunto he had called thera, by fasting, prayer, and iraposition of hands,' that is, to be or dained ; the Spirit of God hereby plainly shewing, that he himself would not break the successive order of mission, established in the church. Without in the least regarding 362 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC. this, or other passages of Scripture, that plainly point out the three orders, the reformers I am speaking of, though strenuously insisting on Scripture, as the only rule of refor mation, threw out the episcopal order, and began a new method of authorizing orders, until that time, unheard of in the church. And this they did, first, because they were de terrained to receive nothing that raust corae to thera, through the church of Rorae ; and secondly, because episcopacy was too like monarchy, and therefore opposite to the po litical raaxiras they had every where adopted. Tbeir attach ment to a republican form of governraent in the state, they carried with thera into the church, and wherever they could, established it in both. The unhappy entail of this foreign principle on their religious system was as imprudent, as it was unscriptural, and proved the ruin of their cause in France, Spain, and other monarchies. The kings and bishops, equally jealous of their designs, which they saw, tended to the extirpation of bofch, opposed them with all their power. But as neither were afc fche time averse to a reforraation, had the reforraers wholly abstained from po litics, pursuant to the express coramand of Scripture, and left the three Scriptural orders of the church, as they found thera, all Europe raight long ago have been reformed. Here indeed in Great Britain, where the civil constitution was raixed, they had a fairer prospect of success. But whether it was that God approved and blessed the wisdom of our reforraation, or thathe blasted the scheraes of men, who had preferred their own prejudices to his institution, they were in part disappointed as to Scotland, and entirely, both as to England and Ireland. However, though the monarchy re mains in all the three, fchey have esfcablished fche ecclesiasti cal republic in the first, and continue a separate church in the fcwo lasfc; which we oughfc in jusfcice to ascribe to the superior industry of their ministers in lecturing, exaraining, and teaching the people. Herein it must be owned, we too often fall as far short of them, as they do of us, in point of institutional authority. But on the other hand, it ought to be considered, that tbis is in no sort owing to the ecclesi astical government of either. Ours gives no peculiar en couragement to remissness, nor theirs to diligence. How much is it to be wished, that we could honestly resolve on LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUL' ONE MIND. 363 a reciprocal participation of these advantages, on which the happiness of the church so evidently depends. Another, and indeed the chief thing that excited the disgust of our dissenters at the established church, was the use of premeditated prayers and sermons. The reformers of our church laying no claira fco inspirafcion, thoughfc ifc their duty to provide, as far as in thera lay. that good sense should be uttered, both to God and the people. Hence a set form of prayer : hence our printed homilies and written discourses. But the Puritans too frequently mistaking their warrath of heart, for a divine infusion, and therefore regarding all pre meditation as an affront to the Holy Spirit, cared not to hear any man. either pray or preach, if they had any reason to believe, he had ever once considered beforehand, what he was to say. , As they paid no respect to any original suc cessive mission in the ministry, they expected every minister should prove his extemporaneous mission by the readiness and plenty of his effusions. As they were soraetiraes but very slender judges of good sense, they took that volubility and ardour, which was owing after all, to the genius of the speaker, and to premeditation and habit, for a sufficient proof of inspiration, without duly exaraining the justness and propriety of what was uttered. If a sanctified look and tone of voice were added, they gave, a deraonstrative force to this proof, which, in some instances, no defects as to the matter were allowed td refute. To this, more than every thing else, was owing the inveterate prejudice of the cora mon people to our liturgy and sermons. It is true, that time and exjjerience have almost wholly reraoved the opinion of inspiration ; but unhappily the prejudice stillreraains, though that which gave it birth is banished. The dissent ing ministers now frankly own, they con their prayers, and write their sermons ; and provided they leave their paper behind them, the people ask no other inspiration, than a tenacious meraory. Necessity also obliges them to have recourse to a forra in their prayers, because as the raatter of public prayer is always nearly the sarae, it is irapossible for any man, to vary on that matter, every Sunday, for thirty or forty years. Inverting the order of confessions, petitions, and thanksgivings, is an expedient that soon runs out. Taking an exordium from the serraon can do no more, than 364 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC give a mere initial newness to" the prayer. And planning the whole prayer on the subject matter of the sermon, which must often be particular ; is confining the prayer to one single point, although it ought at each tirae to run through all the necessary constituent parts of public worship. How can that raan avoid falling into a forra, who on all occasions of public prayer, confesses, petitions, intercedes, and gives thanks, in words sufficiently general to coraprehend the de votions of a whole congregation ? If then a forra cannot be avoided ; and if we ' ought not to be rash with our mouths, nor let our hearts be hasty to ufcfcer any thing before God,' we cannot take too much care in preparing that form, nor have too many, too wise, or too pious assistants, in so great a work. There is no kind of composition raore difficult, than that of prayer. It is not therefore every raw, every unfurnished understanding, that is qualified for such a per forraance, even if he were allowed ever so rauch time to pre pare it. How greatly then raust he fail, if he attempts it, without proper assistance, in the midst of that confusion, wherewith modesty is apt to be erabarrassed before a mul titude of people ? These were the chief obstacles to coraraunion with the established church, whereat ray dissenting brethren, your predecessors, forraerly stumbled. But is it not now high time you should see through their raistakes ? Have our ceremo nies led us a single step nearer to the church of Rome? Have our bishops turned popes, or even once atterapted to lord it over your faith ? Is our Coramon Prayer converted into a Mass-book ? Or are either our devotions or discourses the worse for being well digested and prepared? Ifyou now see these things with other eyes, than you did formerly, as I ara convinced you do ; or if you look on the causes of dissension as far less significant, than once you did, as I pray God you may ; why do you still continue to keep open a breach, made by surraises, now found to be groundless ; and to shut your hearts against the established profession ofyour country, which hath so long gloriously raaintained the cause of Uberty and reformation against infinite atterapts raade by the invaders of both ? We shall neither think of censuring you, nor of holding you at the sraallest distance from our hearts, on account of their aversion to us, if you LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 365 will but shew us, you are disposed to think of us, and act by us, with somewhat raore of Christian charity and bro therly love, than they did. But you soraetiraes give us such testiraonies of contrary dispositions towards us, that we are often at a loss to know, whether your arras are stretched out to strike, or to embrace us. From the time that the arbitrary proceedings of the late king Jaraes raade it necessary to oppose hira, to this day, you have faithfully fought the coramon cause of li berty, civil and religious, as often as either was struck at. The tiraes of rautual danger, or united triuraph, helped to warm our hearts to each other. You declare yourselves on all occasions less averse to our ecclesiastical constitution, and go oftener into our churches than formerly. These are pleasing syraptoms of good sense and candour, that seem to promise peace and good agreement at no great distance. I hope we shall never give you reason to coraplain, that we are wanting on our part to such friendly advances, as may tend to proraote a thorough coalition. It revives our hopes, and warms our hearts to reflect on these proraising parts of your conduct. But the delightful prospect of peace is no sooner con templated frora this point of view, than we are hurried into another, frora whence we can see nothing but the ill-covered embers of forraer aniraosities, glowing, in all appearance, with as high a degree of heat as ever. Attribute it not to spleen and resentraent, but to brotherly freedora, and a truly pacific intention, when I tell you what I mean, by two or three instances, wherein you shew, if I raistake you not, an earnest desire to revive, and even aggravate the distaste be tween us. How shall we arrive at peace, if we do not on both sides araend such faults as give offence ? You take the liberty frequently to remonstrate on ours. Allow us the same privilege, and hear us as calmly as we do you, that such incidents in your behaviour, as we fcake unkindly, raay be eifcher explained or jusfcified, if possible, to the satisfaction of us your brethren. You cannot otherwise so well know what are those parts of your coniduct that make us uneasy, as by a frank declaration from ourselves, who have too much feeling, or frailty, call it which you will, to pass them by wholly unnoticed. I solemnly protest, that, in what I ara 366 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dLSC, going to say, I am prorapted by grief rather than resent ment, and have no other end in view, than to reraove, if pos sible, all obstructions to a happy union, and to promote, to the utmost of my little power, that openness and candour on which alone a lasting friendship can be built. Bear there fore patiently, with me for a few minutes, for freely as I may speak, God is my witness, I seek your honour and happiness as well as our own. In the first place, I raust observe to you, that while we make no distinctions between you and ourselves in matters of trade, but give our money alike to either, you generally make it a rule to throw all advantages this way, you possi bly can, into the hands of Dissenters only ; and seldom or never do otherwise, but when you expect a much greater benefit, than you give, in dealing with us. What hath re ligion and trade to do with each other ? If we differ in church, is this a reason you should excoraraunicate us on the Exchange? Why are the controversies about church- governraent and forms of prayer to interfere with our busi ness in a coffee-bouse or a shop ? Is fchis brotherly, or even neighbourly ? But I detest this topic, so narrow-hearted on the one side, that it cannot be touched on the other, without an appearance of selfishness ; and tberefore I quit it. In the next place, it frequently happens, that when one of you intermarries with a woman of our persuasion, you often labour as zealously in her conversion, as you could do, did you think her in a state of daranation, while she con tinues in our communion. In like manner, if one of your people chances to conforra, you seldom shew him any share of thafc indulgence wherewith you are treated by us and the laws, and of which, great though it is, you are ever cora plaining, as ifyou were under a severe and relentless perse cution. Is this consistent with your notions of liberty ? Is this doing as you would be done by ? Again, it is usual with many of you to conform occa sionally on worldly views, often of no great importance; and yet to dissent again, or promote dissensions with as much zeal as ever. Howl my brethren, is communion with us both consistent, and inconsistent, with the word of God, and a sound conscience ? How can the causes of dissension appear to the same man, both so considerable as to outweigh. LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 367 in his estimation, all the arguments for Christian peace and union ; and yet so rainute as to be outweighed by every in considerable view of worldly interest ? Again, although we have, for a long tirae, been alraost wholly silent on the unhappy controversy between you and us, not because we are in the least afraid of being foiled, as you very well know, bufc thafc the difference which lies raore in heat of blood, than force of arguraent, raay have tirae to die away ; you are notwithstanding, ever and anon foraent- ing the spleen of your people with paraphlets, wherein you endeavour to shew (God knows with what truth) that our conduct towards you hath always been, and still is, made up of little else than oppression and persecution. In these performances you usually set out with very fair and plausi ble professions of candour in matters of religion, and of friendship towards the established church, while nothing else is airaed at in the body of fche work, bufc fco rekindle fche aniraosifcy ofa declining party, and to point it directly against that church. Your faraous serraon on the 30th of January, Chandler's Case of Subscription, the Candid Disquisitions, Bourn's Catechisra, drawn up on purpose to teach your very children the principles of dissension and hatred to our church, the Letters to Mr. White, and raany others, are flagrant in stances of this. Observe, I mention, the Candid Disquisi tions araong the rest, because till the yet concealed authors are known to be conformists, as was in vain pretended, you vrill always have the honour of that performance. Never did any set of men draw up such a book against the princi ples and practices of a society whereof they were members ; much less were they capable, after an unsuccessful attempt, to have it constitutionally considered, of appealing by a work of that nature to the world, which they knew, could not possibly have any other eflect, than that of rendering its readers dissatisfied with an establishment, which it could not change, and proving to raen of discernraent, the deep dissimulation of the writers, who could be conformists in the teeth of such infinite objections. No professions, though ever so often and earnestly repeated, can persuade a nian in his senses that this could possibly be the work of persons who were friends either-to truth or peace, to say nothing of the establishraent. It will be also as hard to persuade us 368 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC that God will prosper attempts, especially in raatters of re ligion, so disingenuously conducted? No, before we can rationally hope to unite in any systera, we raust honestly labour to beat down the prejudices on both sides, not by indelicately atterapting to cool each other, but by every one of us, according to his sphere of influence, endeavouring to assuage the spirit of opposition in his own party, and to teach those who will lend hira an ear, to look on the points in dispute, as matters of too little consequence to embroil the peace of the church. Till this is done, and hath succeeded, we all know, it is in vain to think of offering schemes of accommodation to synods or convocations ; so that men of sense who publish books, avowedly with the view of ex posing the errors of the establishraent, in order to their araendraent, while the rainds of raen are not sufficiently dis posed to a coalition, raust excuse us, if we fear, they are airaing at the quite contrary ends. If you here objecfc, fchafc ifc would be altogether unreason able to coraplain ofthe Dissenters at large for the perform ances of particular raen, who, in the present liberty allowed every raan of publishing what he pleases, raay say such things to the public as the body or party to which he belongs do not approve of, and therefore ought not to answer for; we shall readily grant it. But you will give us leave at the sarae tirae to observe, that the body ofyour people (a small nuraber only of a more peaceable and ingenuous turn ex cepted) do make the writings, coraplained of, their own, by printing, reprinting, reading, approving, applauding them, on all occasions ; while the leading raen araong you are known to be the authors of these incendiary writings, and the body of the dissenting clergy are very far from publicly disap proving or censuring them, your people every where greedily imbibe their contents, and therewith irabifcter their hearts against us and our persuasion. You see this ; you use no endeavours to amend it; too many of you rejoice in it. Is it thus, ray friends, that you prepare for uniforraity and coa lition? Is it thus you 'seek peace and ensue it?' Were we but half as rauch inflaraed on the other side, could the most sanguine promoter of peace, fchink you, enfcertain even a disfcanfc hope of agreeraent in any new raodel that could possibly be proposed ? LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 369 But farther, that which still more strongly shews the too great alienation of heart wherewith you generally regard us, 'is the unaccountable use you make of arguraents drawn from Popish, and invectives from Deistical writers, to run down our church and clergy. How often have you been prompted by Rome herself, to ridicule our church for having a king and sometiraes a queen for its head, though you know this headship is only in temporals ; though you know our kings and queens bave been, as God proraised they should be, ' the nursing fathers, and nursing mothers' of Christ's church, both here and on the continent? Did you ever, or would you now, refuse the assistance of temporal power, were it offered, to strengthen and establish your church ? And have our princes done any thing else by us ? Have they ever prescribed what we should believe, or impeded the exercise of purely spiritual powers among us? Why then is his majesty's ecclesiastical supremacy in tem porals, which was introduced only to protect us against a Papal supreraacy, both in fceraporals and spirifcuals, so fre quently struck at by Protestants, in the very words of our Popish adversaries ? Is this brotherly ? Or is it either brotherly or Christian to gather all the filth of Shafts bury, of Tindal, and of Collins, Trenchard, Gordon in the Independant Whig, and to fling it in the faces of our clergy ? Were nofc fchese raen professed Deists, and eneraies to Christianity ? How come they then to be your friends and prompters ? It is surely worse than calling in the Turk, to ask assistance from allies like these. Had they any other view in their invectives than to wound our religion through the sides of its preachers ? And would they not have served your rainistry in the sarae raanner, had it been rendered an object of their envy, by legal establishment, by honorary and lucrative provisions ? Were you to be high church to morrow (and surely you are not so unambitious as to decline it) all the railleries of these books would be just as applica ble to you as they are now to us. The libertine writers, with whom too raany of you now associate to serve a turn, would then be, your adversaries, and it is to be questioned whether you would as patiently bear the gross treatment you encourage them to give us, if once offered to yourselves, as we do. Yes, I say encourage, for is there any kind of VOL. III. 2 B 370 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC. writings, in our language, which you so greedily buy, which you read with so rauch pleasure, which you retail- with so much keenness on all occasions? And have not raany of you, while they only airaed at gleaning the satirical re proaches, at the sarae tirae unhappily sucked in the poison ous principles of these admired writers? Are the distinc tions of Protestant and Papist, and even of Christian and Deist, to be lost in that of churchman and dissenter, as of more consequence to truth, to piety, and to virtue? No, ray brethren, even if we are to quarrel, let us quarrel like brothers, ever ready to postpone our private aniraosities to the general interest and honour of that cause in which we are both equally erabarked. Let us not discharge against each other those arrows doubly dipped in poison, which a mistaken zeal would prompt us to draw frora the quiver ofa coraraon eneray. But why should we quarrel at all ? In the name of Christ, ' the prince of peace,' what is it we are con tending about ? Is it about things necessary to our eternal salvation? No, it is (how ara I pained to speak it! how are our Popish and Deistical enemies pleased to hear it), it is about but I will be silent, lest our children despise us for contending about matters, which we on both sides con fess fco be indifferent. O shameful! O senseless contention! But who is to blame for it? Tell me, my dissenting bre thren, whether of the two is more difficult, for you to com ply with the present establishment, or for us so to new model the church as to please all parties ? Or if the latter, though the more difficult, is the better expedient of the two, tell us, as raen who speak before the searcher of hearts, are your rainds disposed to raeet us half way ? Are you ready to give up every thing but the fundaraentals of religion, for peace and charity, which is itself a great fundamental ? Are you so well agreed among yourselves, as to know what you would be at, and to have but one catalogue of deraands ? As for us, if our candour and moderation hitherto are not a sufficient defence for us before the impartial world, nor encourageraent enough to you to hope for every reason able, compliance, on our part, we can do no more, either to justify ourselves or satisfy you. But this I will be bold to say, that for one step you make towards peace, you will always find us ready to raake two, provided no sacrifice is tXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 371 to be raade to that- peace, either of Scriptural truths or of what Christ and his apostles have established. In all things else you may be gratified, as soon as ever you are agreed araong yourselves, and have given such proofs as reason and Christianity require, of the good teraper and candour of your own hearts. But till this can be done, or rather to proraote this as much as in you lies, let brotherly love and tenderness to wards us, take place of jealousy and distaste in yourhearts. Let indifferent things be thought of with due indifferency. 'Let the peace of God which passeth all understanding,' both of divines and statesraen, teach you the infinite sweets and beauty of peace araong raen. In iraitation of the raeek and merciful Jesus, ' who loved us, and gave himself for us,' let us love and give ourselves for one another. And 'if there be any consolation in Christ, if any corafort'of love, if any fellowship of the spirit, if any bowels and mercies ; fulfil ye' both your own joy and ours, ' that ye be like minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory, but in lowliness of raind let each esteera the other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own tilings, but every man also on the things of others. Do all things without murraurings and disputings.' But that we raay all of us be the better disposed to follow this excellent advice of the apostle, let us reflect a little on the circumstances we are in. Our religion itself is struck at by the Deists, and the fundaraentals of it by the Arians and Socinians. Our liberties, both religious and civil, are atfcacked by the pope, and a popish pretender. These adversaries are none of thera destitute of zeal, art, or power to hurt us. Is this a tirae my brethren to fall out with one another, about things indifferent? Be assured there is a tincture of irreligion in our confcenfcions, or we could nofc so impiously pufc fcrufch and charifcy fco fche hazard, for: prejudices so very childish as ours ; and if fcemporal things may be mentioned with spiritual, we shall prove our selves as bad sons to our country as to the church, unless we quickly unite, if not in religious sentiments, at least in rehgious affections towards one another. We ought seri ously to consider what infinite mischiefs often arise from 2 B 2 372 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST [dISC. trifling causes, magnified by groundless prejudices, and an untoward temper of mind. The last independent duke of Burgundy owed the ruin of hiraself and his faraily, and France her grandeur, to a quarrel between that prince and the Swiss, which began about a load of sheep-skins. Not more imporfcanfc to the eye of a manly and unprejudiced un derstanding do those things appear, I raean those religious differences, for which we fell out in the reign of Charles the first. Had France then been in a condition to take ad vantage of our distractions, this kingdora raight long since have been a province of tbat. And is it not possible our dissentions raay again erabroil us, at a time when that ara bitious raonarchy shall be more at leisure to strike in ? We want nothing but good agreement to make us a match for her or the most powerful of our other neighbours, and to render us the most happy people in the world. But our divisions which once tore us all to pieces, and sheathed our swords in one another's bowels, may possibly do the same again ; at least we have reason to fear, and our enemies to hope, tbey raay. Hence distrust and dread, hence weakness and cowardice on our side ; and hence a continual invitation to bold encroachraents on theirs. We have no one power on the continent to afcfcack us, eifcher in church or state, who hath not a party among us, frora whora he raay hope for as sistance. Besides, there is this unhappy peculiarity in every one of our parties, thatt it is double, and forras both a sect, in regard to religion, and a faction, in regard to the state. This raultiplies the handles by which our eneraies may lay hold of us, and consequently our fears. Is. he a Christian, is he a patriot, is he a wise or an honest man, who will not do his utmost to bring us out of a situation so every way dangerous and shocking ? No, were he a Christian, he would feel more warrath for the general interest of his rehgion than for the detached advantage of his persuasion, should they at any tirae happen to corae in competition. Were he a patriot, he would consult the happiness of his country, not the advancement of a faction. Were he a wise or an honest man, he would labour to the uttermost of his power to unite and strengthen that community which hath pro tected, and still protects him, in the enjoyraent of every thing he holds either sacred or dear to him. Were he all, LXXI.J CAN HAVE BUT ONE MIND. 373 or any of these, unanimity, in the balance either of his un derstanding or heart, would outweigh ten thousand non essentials. To draw towards an end, give me leave, ray dissenting brethren, to observe to you, that as to the subject of con formity, you are reducible to two classes ; the first, of those who think the differences between you and the established church sufficiently material to justify a separation; the other, of such as lay no great stress on those differences, either through ignorance of their merits, or because they esteem them raatters of no great consequence, and therefore do not continue to dissent so much on account of those differences, as merely because they are unwilling or asharaed to quit the way of worship they were, brought up in. In dulge me with a short application to each. And first, let me humbly and earnestly beseech you, who look on the difference between us as material, fairly and calmly to weigh those difference^ against the sia of schism, and the infinite mischiefs, both" spiritual and tem poral, that do or raay arise frora it. When this is done, consider with the like candour, whefcher we differ aboufc any fching of real moment (I speak to you only vvho agree with us in fundamentals), excepting the single point of church government ; whether Christ himself did not govern the church episcopally ; whether he gave us any reason to think he intended this raethod of governraent should be al tered on his leaving the world ; whether he did not rather entail it on the church by ' sending bis apostles, as his Fa ther had sent hira ;' whether they did not actually pursue the same plan ; whether Timothy and Titus were not con stituted real bishops, with authority over presbyters and deacons by St. Paul ; whether it does not clearly appear from the first epistle of this apostle to Tiraothy, that he, Timothy, was to see thafc proper persons were appoinfced both for presbyters and deacons, and to govern the presby ters, though there called bishops ; whether this does not deraonstrate three orders in the church, first of Timothy, secondly of the presbyters, and thirdly of the deacons ; whether that holy raartyr St. Ignatius, who was the irame diate disciple of St. John, and whose writings were a long time read in many churches, as next in authorifcy to Scrip- 374 THE CHURCH OF CHRIST, &C. [dISC. ture, does not, in his epistle to the Magnesians, and else where, plainly distinguish tbe sarae three orders, assign the subordination of the two last to the first, and technically fix their titulary appellations; whether what he' so deli neates in this behalf, is not evidently traced in the practice of all churches down to the Reforraation ; whether at that period raany reforraers ignorantly blaming episcopacy for that which Popery the oppressor of episcopacy, had done, did not proceed rather by pique and prejudice than by rea son or authority. Scriptural or traditional, in rejecting the episcopal order ; whether reforraers, already as rauch heated against forraer abuses and usurpations, as the Papists were bigotted to thera, may not be as reasonably suspected of prejudice in throwing out, as we in retaining this order; whether the raerits, as to this, can ever be decided by our preconceptions of either side ; or by inviduously ripping up old sores, or by bitter invectives against particular bishops, or in short by any other raethod than that of a cool dis passionate appeal to Scriptural authority, explained by the practice of antiquity. After having maturely weighed these things, we beg of you then seriously to consider in the last place, whether any set of Christians can warrantably lay aside the succession of orders, so plainly founded by Christ himself, and so long religiously kept up by all his churches ; and begin a new succession, without even the colour of necessity. As to you, who regard fchis and the other differences between yourselves and us, as nothing, surely you must look on peace and unity on one side, and schism on the other, as less than nothing, if you continue to dissent. Nay, if you have a sufficient reason (and certainly the far greater nuraber of you have) to think yourselves incorapetent judges of fche raerifcs, your safesfc way raust be to join with the es tablishment, because by that means you avoid the sin of schisra at least, which raust be a great and real sin in you, while you dissent, let the raerits lie on which side they will, since you are conscions of your own inability to see where they lie. I could say a great deal more on this affecting subject; but having perhaps already trespassed too far on your pa tience, I shall here conclude, with earnestiy beseeching the LXXII.J PROTESTANT REFUGEES, &C. 375 God of peace and love, to lead us, in the unity of the Spi rit, to a right understanding, and a raeek and brotherly dis position in all things, to the glory of our holy religion, and its blessed author, to vvhom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Araen. DISCOURSE LXXII. THE CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. ADVERTISEMENT. Some years ago, when the Frencb Protestants fled from persecution in their own countiy, to liberty and protection in Great Britain and Ireland, and fled in sucb numbers, and most of them so indigent, that immediate subsistence became doubt ful ; the author drew up this discourse with an intention to preach it circularly at the assizes throughout the province of Ulster. This intention he submitted to a society then formed in Dublin, on the same principle of charity. Some, however, of that society having objected, that the bishops would not consent to a proceeding so un common, the design was overruled, and the Discourse therefore never preached. The author nevertheless believes, his readers will judge the raatter and tendency of the Discourse not wholly useless, as long as refuge shall still be sought here by our Protestant brethren on the like occasion. Heb. XIII. 2. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers. Before I enter on the subject of this Discourse, wherein I propose to recoraraend our Protestant brethren, who fiy hi ther frora France to avoid the cruelties of a Popish persecu tion, to your farther benevolence and assistance ; give me leave to observe, that, singular as I may seem to some in what I ara doing, no sensible or religious bearer, I believe, will think ray atterapt itself needs an apology, unless ifc is frora fchis consideration, that piety and goodness in distress can Want no advocate with the pious and the good. Al though it is certain, this undertaking speaks sufficiently for itself, it may nevertheless appear somewhat uncouth in one so inconsiderable and so little known. 376 CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES [dISC. But when, in justification of myself, I shall have told you, fchafc I was born and bred in the vicinity of that French colony, which gave us the linen trade; that for some years past, I have had a better opportunity of knowing the people I speak for, than any man perhaps who hears me hath had ; and that I have not only known them to be a people of great probity and worth, but have been more indebted to the friendships wherewith some of them have honoured me, than I ara able to express ; when these things, I say, are told you, your own sentiraents of gratitude will justify and approve of raine ; and you will be well pleased, pursuant to the ge nerous intentions that drew you hither on this occasion, to hear rae on a subject every way affecting, with that indul gence which your huraanity is prepared to dictate, and my defects raay require. You are here assembled, it is to be presuraed, rather pre viously resolved to obey the araiable precept in my text, than to hear reasons for so doing. Yet such is ever the pro perty ofa good heart, that, well as it is disposed in itself, it wishes for new induceraents to still greater degrees of be neficence, than its present ardors prescribe ; and therefore readily turns its corapassionate attention to the object where these raay be found ; nay, searches for them in that object with as much care as the hard heart (I speak boldly) does, for selfish pretences to arm itself with against the claira of hira who gave us all, and the raoving cries of hu raan nature in distress. If then your charity only looks for an object to kindle at, and an opportunity to dilate itself, behold them both presented full in view, with every circurastance that usually works the strongest on a soul like yours ! They are human creatures, tied to you by one coramon, one tender band of nature, so that you cannot but be hungry, till they are sup plied with food ; you raust be filled with apprehensions, till their fears of perishing for want of sustenance are re moved. They are your fellow-Christians, united to you in the same body of Christ : your heart feels for them, as they are raen ; and your conscience, as they are Christians : you feel their distress through Christ your Saviour, who suffers in their afflictions. How raovingly do they work, at once, on your pity, your love, your piety ! Is it possible to raise LXXII.] FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 377 this affection higher? Yes, when I put you in raind that they are Protestants, you cannot but feel, as the object is brought nearer to you, and is considered as the next adjoin ing raeraber of Christ, a raore interesting warmth for it. This proceeds, not so much from your preferring the narae of a Protestant to that of a Christian, as frora a full convic tion, that these raen have proved themselves to be true Christians, by their inviolable adherence to the Reforraation, in spight of every calaraity, every terror. From the horrible effects of a cruel persecution (which, God be praised, you can only imagine), from confiscations, from dungeons, from racks, frora fire, these your brethren fly for refuge to your arras ; and it is justly a raatter of doubt, whether the all-seeing eyes of God behold any thing in this world more pleasing to hira than those arms, ex tended to embrace them, to feed, to clothe, to protect them, at once, frora the fury of their unnatural countryraen, from the inclemency of this untoward cliraate, and from all the raiseries of poverty and banishraent together. In this lovely attitude you share the raerits, without the pain, of their fidelity to Christ; insorauch that it is not easy to say, whe ther we should raore esteera their suffering, or your protect ing virtues ! How honourable are the forraer ! how beauti ful the latter ! Go on, dearly beloved in Christ Jesus, and let these your brethren see, that charity, divine charity, is stronger in you, than diabolical raalice in their bigotted per secutors. Let it not be said, that a false religion in any set of raen can faster oppress, than the true one in you, can re lieve. Did these refugees run frora a bad country, to a better ; or frora poverty at home, to riches abroad ; we raight have sorae reason to suspect, either the principles for which they are harrassed, or the sincerity of their attachment to thera. But when we not only know their principles to be the sarae with our own, but that of all men, they are the raost national, probably because born and bred up in one of the finest countries on the globe ; and that they are forced to leave all, or a great part of what they possessed, behind thera ; to what can we ascribe their reraoval hither, and into other parts of the world, where they are to struggle with a still harsher air, and a less relenting soil, excepting to an 378 CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES [disC. honest zeal for the truth, and a conscience that cannot bend to the world ? A people, less fond of their native country, could not have raade so great a sacrifice to their religion. In this light, they have a right to be considered as confes sors, and to be both trusted and treated, by us afc leasfc, as such. Ifc is for Chrisfc fchey suffer ; and if we are Christians, we must love, we raust pity, we must relieve them. You will be as well pleased, I believe, as I was, with the beha viour of a French gentieworaan, brought from Bourdeaux to Portsmouth, by a sea captain of my acquaintance, her spirit and fcurn of raind will so apfcly serve to characterise those of her countrymen, that, to save a greater expense of words for that purpose, I shall take the liberty to set her before you, as the representative of the rest. This excellent woraan, having found raeans to turn her fortune, which was considerable, into jewels, was in thenight tirae conveyed on board the ship of my friend, with all she was worth in a little casket. Never was the mind ofa human creature so racked with fears and anxieties, till the ship was under sail. But she no sooner saw herself fairly disengaged from the country which she loved best, and where she had left all her relations, than her spirits began to rise, and discover that kind of joy, which others, after a long absence, testify on their approach to fche place of fcheir nativity and edu cation. This pleasing sensation gave signs of gradual in crease, as she drew nearer and nearer to the situation she had chosen for her banishraent. The moraent she was landed, she threw herself on her face araong the raud ; and while, without the least regard either to the foulness of the spot, or the reraarks of those who saw her, she kissed the dirty ground, and grappled it with her fingers, blessed land of liberty ! she cried, have I at last attained ray wishes ? Yes, gracious God (raising herself to her knees, and spreading her hands to heaven) I thank thee for this deliverance from a ty ranny exercised on my conscience, and for placing me where thou alone art to reign over it by thy word, till I shall lay down my head in this beloved earth. How lovely a sight was this, especially to the eyes of an Enghshman! Now, although every French refugee does not give signs of equal transport on landing araong us, and for a melancholy reason, because he comes stripped perhaps of LXII.J FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 379 all his worldly possessions, and uncertain where he shall look for the necessaries of life ; yet does he not come with the same sentiments of religion ? And as it is to be pre sumed, since he is destitute of all support, and appears by his person, understanding, and behaviour, to have formerly lived in some condition, that he hath made a greater sacri fice to conscience, than the lady raentioned was obliged to do, ought we not to look upon him with at least equal esteera and affection ? .' Ought not our abundance, now at this tirae, -to be a supply for his want, that by the experiment of this ministration he raay glorify God for our professed subjec tion unto the gospel of Christ, and for our liberal distri bution unto hira, and unto all raen,' circumstanced as he is ? It is objected, I know, by some, that these raen, having been bred presbyterians, ought not to be too rauch encou raged, because they increase the nuraber of our dissenters, in proportion as tbey settle araong us ; and consequently, in the sarae proportion endanger the establishment, by that accession of strength, which they give fo those who do not love it. Too many, it is to be feared, of these objectors, have little Christianity themselves, or they could nofc fchink of thus shutting their hearts against such raen as have proved themselves true Christians. It is, and I hope ever will be, the glory of our church, that, although no other, since the purity of the first ages, hath afforded less pretence to dis senters, she hath, notwithstanding, always allowed more freedora and indulgence to those who differed from her, than other churches have done. Her only aim hath ever been to make real Christians, both in faith and practice, of all her merabers. Such she gladly receives to coramunion; and when, through their infirmities and prejudices, she can not receive, she shelters and protects thera. So just, and so truly Christian hath her conduct always been, and I trust, will ever be, towards the French refugees; who, in their turn, have in all respects shewn theraselves worthy of her indulgence. In the presenfc scarcifcy of true believers, she is still farther than ever, frora preferring herself to the church of Christ at large, or hardening her heart against his tried, his faithful servants, merely on account of their scruples, howsoever trifling or groundless they may appear to be. He 380 CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES [disC is therefore no true son of this church, whatsoever he may pretend, or even in good earnest fchink, who is for shufcting the doors of charity against the oppressed, against such as have given up their country, and all that was dear to them in this world, to preserve their consciences. Nor can he be a raeraber of Christ's church, who is not ready, as Christ was, to help every huraan creature in distress, whefcher agreeing, or differing with him in principles. What right can he have to talk of churches, who wants the charac teristic charity of a Christian, and consequently is of no church ? But to the honour of fche refugees, and for the satisfac tion of such, as, through an honest love to our church, re gard thera with sorae coldness, because they do not imme diately conform ; it ought to be observed, that they dissent not out of stubbornnesss or perversity, but raerely in con sequence of the education they bad received ; that indeed they cannot iraraediately conforra, inasmuch as they come hither wholly unacquainted with our language ; and fchat, after they have attained to sorae knowledge of that lan guage, they seldora or never coraraunicate with our native dissenters ; but either keep up their own congregations, that they raay afford their new countryraen an opportunity of serving God in the only language fchey undersfcand ; or come over to the established church by hundreds every year, and by their unfeigned piety and virtue, rank theraselves with the very best raembers she can boast of. But even during tbeir state of separation from our comraunion, are they not religious and honest raen ? And if they are, shall we notbe vile dissenters ourselves, frora real religion and honesty, in case we hold thera at a distance from our hearts ? We must have but a raean opinion of Christianity, if frora an attachraent, so ardent as theirs, to its fundamental principles, we do nofc expecfc fche exeraplificafcion of every virfcue. Accordingly, fche lives of fchese men have neifcher done any dishonour to their principles, nor disappointed our expectations. Hence it is, that I can boldly appeal to the experience of every one who knows thera, whefcher, in point of private, and civil or social virtue, they have not, all along, so behaved theraselves, as to deserve, our love, our esteem and confidence. As to their private virtues, are fchey not LXII.J FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 381 sober, modest, industrious, and honest ? Let us candidly recollect, how few instances, ever since the late revolution, of vile or profligate persons have been found araong thera, throughout the nation. They do not profane God's narae or his sabbath; they do not drink, debauch, or garae ; they do not quarrel or break the peace, like other raen. They never raeddle with other people's affairs, but when they are called ; and then they shew theraselves to be raen of inte grity and humanity. They do not overbear, nor affect parade, like their Popish countryraen ; but confine theraselves to their own business, which, in the midst ofa truly Christian simplicity of manners, they pursue with admirable address and skill, to the great advantage, not only of theraselves, but of the nation in general. The raanagement of fcheir gardens, houses and tables, afford us an useful exaraple of neatness and good economy ; and teaches us to live better than we otherwise could have done, and at less expense. Their na tural complaisance raay help to polish our too great plain ness ; and that perpetual vivacity, for which they are reraark able, raay serve to temper the glooray and raelancholy turn of mind we complain so rauch of in ourselves. It is perhaps for these, as well as other less obvious reasons, that he who governs the world, and often, with a wise and gracious in tention, mixes the nations of the earth together, hath sent them into these countries, wherein, it is manifest to every common observer, they have already done, at least, as much good as they have received. This, I say, is manifest to any one who refiects on their civil or social virtues, and considers thera as raerabers of the community. The are, all of thera, fast friends to the consti tution, and reraarkably araenable to the laws. We have never had reason to be sorry for the confidence reposed in such of them as have been advanced to places of trust. They have shewn theraselves brave and faithful in the array ; just and irapartial in the raagistracy. For the truth of the former assertion, the noble carriage of" Sir John Ligonier, is a suf ficient voucher; and for that ofthe latter, the mayoralty of Alderraan. Porter. Did any of thera ever sell or betray us, as sorae among ourselves have done? It is rauch to their honour, that, out of so raany of thera eraployed in the lower stations of the church, the army, &c. scarcely any have been 382 CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES [diSC. wanting to their duty ; and that of so few advanced to posts of high dignity and trust, fche majorifcy have carried off the general applause of a people naturally averse to the. French. And here it is worth observing, that the coldness shewn to thera by too many araong us, is chiefly owing to the na tional quarrel, and a most groundless suspicion, that these refugees still love the country they have left, better than this which they live in. It is true, they love the country that gave thera birth, education, and all their former attach ments. This however is but natural. Yet ought we not to regard thera the raore on this account ? Is he likely to love that place he never saw, till he was advanced in years, and began perhaps to disrelish the whole world, through the hope ofa raore abiding country, who in all the warmth ofa youthful heart, could contract no affecfcion for that of his nativity? They love France ; but they love these nations better, because here they can enjoy that liberty and that re ligion, which they gave up France for. For the truth of this, I will appeal to a trial that cannot deceive us, I mean, their behaviour in all our wars with the French. Brave as the English have always shewn themselves to be, are the French Protestants a single inch behind them in any battle with the French Papists ? Do they not bear up to those oppressors of civil and religious liberty with an animosity truly English ? In cases of another nature, ' we ought not tojudge by the appearance, but ought to judge righteous judgment.' In this we may safely trust to the appearance, because the very appearance is a fact, too well known, and too demonstrative ofthe principle we wish for in these men, to be questioned by suspicion itself. Let them therefore love France in their hearts ; we see, they love these nations in their consciences ; and the whole world knows, their con sciences have the entire ascendant over their hearts. Whether they love us, and are entitled to a rautual retum of affection, raay be best decided by their actions. Whom do they injure ? Whora do they not oblige and serve to the uttermost of their power ? I could illustrate what I here insinuate, with a thousand endearing instances. But I ain hurried from fche agreeable recollection by the sight of every person and thing about me ; which, as it were, with one voice reraind me of a benefit derived to us from God, through J.XXII.J FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 383 these our best earthly friends, too great, and (pardon a self ishness that flows frora gratitude) too interesting, to con tent itself with a share only of ray attention. Whence came those genteel and ornamental dresses, in which you, the wealthy ; and those decent and corafortable habits, wherein you the lower ranks of raen, appear on this occasion? Who covered your tables with that plenty, whereunto you are going to sit down? Who doubled the value of all your lands, and trebled, that of their produce? What is it that gives employraent and bread to the poor, forraerly abandoned to idleness, to want, and rags ? What builds the stately houses, lays out the spacious gardens, and maintains the splendid equipages, of the rich ? Is it not the linen trade, which yearly brings into this nation near a raillion in well-paid money ? And who gave you that trade ? Was it not God, who gave you a peace of sixty-four years, and the French refugees? They, they are the men who planted tbis trade among us, which, in the space of half a century, hath turned our wilderness into a garden, and spread industry where sloth, plenty where poverty, and general culture of minds, as well as other things, where stupidity and barbarism, ty rannised before. Ever sacred to the raemory of those princes, and ofour wise and worthy fathers, to whose judicious cha rities, laid out as it were with a prophetic forecast, on these religious strangers, we owe it, that we are not at this day, in such a state — as I trerable even to suppose, and am ashamed to describe. That condition therefore, corapared with this, which we now enjoy, I leave to the candid re flections of every sensible hearer. Was it God then, and his faithful servants, the French Protestants, that poured the present blessings on us ? The happy fact is too notorious to need a proof. And now I will speak to the innermost hearfc of every one who hears me ; it is God, our bounteous and gracious God, wbo sends a new crowd of these very men, from under the heel of a double tyranny, stripped, destitute, and helpless, to the doors of those houses which their countryraen have helped to rear, for relief. Methinks I hear him saying, these are my creatures ; feed thera. These are your fellow-Christians, and fellow-Protestants ; erabrace thera with all that love which you profess for truth, for liberty, and for ray only-be- 384 CASE OF PROTESTANT REUGEES [disC. gotten Son. For these raen, through whose hands I have sent you so rauch, I now redemand a part ; and charge you by all the ties of humanity, of religion, and of gratitude, both to rae, and them, to supply their necessities ; and so to supply thera, that your kindness to them, may iraitate raine to you, and that I raay find no occssion to repent of ray bounty, as thrown away on a people, so void ofcharity and piety, that even a confessor in want of bread, cannot find the way to their hearts. Behold ! it is raore than a raere iraagination, that God thus addresses hiraself to us, and even represents hiraself as pining for want in these his suffering servants. 'I am an hungered; give me meat. I ara thirsty; give me drink. I ara naked; clothe rae. I ara a stranger ; take me in. I ara an not unrighteous to forget your labour of love, which you have shewed towards ray narae, in that ye have rainistered unto the saints, and do rainister. He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto me ; and that which he hath given, will I pay him again.' No other call to charity can be so strong as this, which taught the priraitive church not to wait for personal soli citations, but to send their alras into distant countries. In those days, ' if one member of Christ's body suffered, all the merabers suffered with it.' So exquisite was the sensation of this blessed body in its youth, that a Christian could feel infinitely farther than he could see, insomuch, that while he was in Macedonia or Achaia he was in pain, till he had re lieved the distresses of another in Judea. O lovely and glorious spirit ! Is it possible, that we, on whom the light of the same gospel hath shone, can be insensible to the mi series ofour fellow-Christians, when the fury of persecution hath driven thera frora their own country, and laid them naked and helpless at our very feet? If there is any man, whom the nearness of so great calamity is not able to melt, we may conclude, he hath not that heart of flesh, which was promised to the Christian ; no, but a heart of sfcone, a heart, cut out, and shaped for hira, by the enemyof all good, frora the nether raillstone. It is that cold, that unfeeling heart, which perpetually furnishes him with ex cuses, as often as his concurrence in any charitable design is applied for. Charity, he says, begins at home, and insists, like one who seriously intended to give something to some- LXXII.J J-ROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 385 body, that we ought first to relieve our own poor, before we think of helping strangers. But in the raean time, this nar row-hearted wretch helps nobody, and only urges his churl ish proverb, to parry the present application, for with him charity really neither begins, nor ends at horae. So far is it from doing either, that you see no one near him, whose face does not look pale and bloodless, for want of bread. But you cannot blame him, since he hath no charity for hiraself, which is all he truly means by, horae, but half starves his own miserable carcase. God be praised, if our hearts are as good as our circura stances, we shall find the way to relieve these strangers, without neglecting tbe wants of our own countryraen. But which of them ought to be first supplied, let coraraon civi lity, which bids us help the stranger, before ourselves, de termine. If, however, civility is not to have its vote on this occasion, necessity surely raust be heard. What can the poor unknown,'who is destitute, disconsolate, and filled with melancholy apprehensions, do in a country, where he knows not which way to turn hira, nor even how to tell his distress, as much through a want of beggarly irapudence, as English ? Must he not presently perish, if there is no one to take hira by the hand, as soon as he coraes on shore ? Bufc to waive both the foregoing arguments for tbis preference, we will bring the doubt, if there can be any, to be decided by the widely different raerifcs of the parties in distress. Our poor are, ge nerally speaking, reduced to want by nothing, but their own laziness, extravagance, and dishonesty. Whereas they whom Iam pleading for, are reduced solely by their adherence to that holy religion, which we ourselves profess, and wish we could, with the help of every encouragement, as sfceadily reduce to practice, as they do, under a load of oppression and persecution. What we give to our own poor, is thrown into a vessel without bottom, and turns to no other account, at least in this world, than to protract a life, for which the community cannot reasonably hope to be the better. But if, after supplying the necessities of the refugees, we give them never so small a beginning to trade on, these poor raen will soon make us rich, and convince us, that our money was not bestowed, but lent at a prodigious interest, on no less security than that of God himself, who hath blessed, VOL. III. 2 c 386 CASE OF PROTESTANT REFUGEES [dISC. and no doubt will continue to bless, those men, and all that assist them. It is nofc only from a raotive of Christian compassion, but on account also of the great advantages which a people, so skilful and industrious, bring with them, wherever they set tle, that all the Protestant nations in Europe are just now contending for thera, and outbidding one another in the en couragements they offer them. I need not say, that we who have gained so much by them, have more reason, than any other nation, to invite and cherish them. This we all know so well, that we cannot help looking on whatsoever they re ceive at our hands, rather as the payment of a debt, or a fund wisely appropriated to the public profit, than as a bounty. It is not indeed easy to deterraine, whether they, or we, have been the benefactors. We relieved their poverty, and they have given us wealth. The sums they had from us, were not carried out of the country, but so eraployed araong us, as to yield us raore than the remainder did, which we kept to our selves. Besides, have they not greatly increased the number of our inhabitants ? Have they not brought us a treasure of men ? And is there any species of wealth equal to that of people ? Of people, industrious in time of peace, and brave in war? No wise nation ever thought any purchase too great for such an accession of strength. But what was the amount, think you, of all we expended on thena ? I will not pretend to say exactly what it was. This however is most certain, that it bears no proportion to the sums they brought with them. They know little of the matter, who imagine, all the refugees carae empty-handed. This is so far from being the case, that I will be bold to say, we have not yet paid their poor the interest of that wealth, which the richer sort among them originally added to tbe national stock. But away with these self-interested and worldly consi derations, excusable from the pulpit only on a principle of gratitude, in regard to what is past ; but unworthy the at tention of such an audience, when urged with views of fu ture gain. We have, it is hoped, too much humanity, too much piety, and too rauch greatness of soul, to suffer so raany worthy raen to perish, bad they brought us, or were they to bring us, nothing but their principles and their LXXr^,] FROM FRANCE, CONSIDERED. 387 poverty. Let no man despise thera for the one who knows, it was voluntarily erabraced by thera, for the sake of the other. Whosoever does, we may take it for granted, would not sa crifice a shilling for God, and every thing that is sacred. O glorious poverty ! which raerifcs more honour in receiving, than the most generous benefactors ©an possibly acquire by giving. I should but wrong your goodness, did I press this mat ter any farther. It was a high opinion of your charity, that imboldened nie thus to remind it of such objects as ifc seeks for and wishes fco relieve. An undistinguished cha rity is but an amiable weakness, which by lavishing, with out regard to raerit or necessity, reduces itself to an inca pacity of helping the good man in real distress. The poor strangers, who at present offer theraselves to your conside ration, do not desire to touch your hearts, but through your understandings, so that you can never have reason, as in many other cases, tafegret the utraost corapassion you shall be pleased to shew them. They are not distressed by their vices but for their virtues. They are willing to earn a sup port for theraselves. Till they can be put in a way to do this, stretch out a friendly hand to sustain thera. So may that hand that poured so raany good things on you, be ever ready to sustain you in all your trials, to deli ver you in the tirae of trouble, to make all your bed in your sickness, and to ensure your present peace and plenty to you, and your latest posterity. Now to tbe ever holy and glorious source of love, be all love and duty, all praise and honour, from henceforward for ever. Amen, 2 c2 388 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [dISC. DISCOURSE LXXIII. THE PASTORAL DUTY. ADVERTISEMENT. This Sermon, at the request of the Right Reverend Frederick, Lord Bishop of Cloyne, was to have been preached at his Consecration, but the Author's illness prevented it. TiTUS II. 15. Tliese things speak, and exhort, and rebuke with all authority. Let no man despise tkee. In the former part of this epistle, St. Paul reminds Titus, that he had left him in Crete, to set in order the things that were wanting, particularly in every city, to ordain elders, qualified as the apostle directs, and careful, not only to dis charge the duties by him inculcated, but also to avoid the errors in conduct, to which they might be tempted among a people of such a temper and character, as are there ascribed fco the Cretans, by one of their own writers, and confirmed by the apostie. From hence he proceeds to instruct Titus, as a bishop, in the particulars of his own duty ; how, for instance, he should cause the elderly, and young people, of both sexes, to behave theraselves ; and how the servants, under his spi ritual governraent, ought to carry towards their raasters. In order to the right discharge of his episcopal duty, as to these and the like effects, Titus, in the sarae place, is charged ' to speak the things which becorae sound doctrine, in all things to shew himself a pattern of good works, in teaching to shew uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity, sound speech that cannot be conderaned, that he who is ofthe contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of him.' By way of general, but powerful enforcement of these matters on the conscience of Titus, and the conduct ofhis flock, the apostle urges, that ' the grace of God which LXXIII.J THE PASTORAL DUTY. 389 bringeth salvation, hath appeared unto all men ; teaching •us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world ; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God, and our Saviour, Jesus Christ ; who gave himself for us, that he raight redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto hiraself a peculiar people, zealoUs of good works.' The grace of God, the redemption of mankind, and a final judgment, the suraraary and leading lines of the gospel, are all eraployed, we perceive, as so raany divine en gines, to work first on Titus, and then, through his niinistry, on the inferior clergy, nay, and on every soul coramitted to his and their charge, a lively faith in sound doctrine, a per fect purity of raanners, and a vigorous zeal in the perforra ance of good works. Here the gospel of Christ is applied with force irresistible, at least on a rational and well-dis posed mind, to its own true and genuine purpose. And whereas the duty of Titus, and all other bishops, consists, not only in faithfully teaching the doctrines of the gospel, but also in warmly pressing them on the heart of every hearer, and in case of stubborness and contumacy, in sharply reproving the heretic or sinner, with a majesty be coraing the messenger of Almighty God ; our blessed apos tle, in the words of my text, charges the bishop of Crete to ' speak these things, to exhort, and to rebuke with all au thority,' adding, in the close, ' let no raan despise thee.' First, speak these things, these which are peculiarly ap plicable to the church of Crete. Now had St. Paul been to give directions to the bishop of some other church, differ ently circumstanced, he would probably have given the like general, but a different set of particular instructions, though under the sanction of the sarae ' grace,' the sarae ' rederap tion,' and the sarae 'judgraent to corae.' He would have said, speak these, or these things, as occasion shall require. Were he, for instance, afc this day, to instruct an Irish bishop, he would say indeed, as then, ' shew thyself a pat tern of good works,' for the raore degenerate and dissolute mankind becorae, the less disposed they will be to wink at iraperfection in a bishop. ' Speak thou the things which be come sound doctrine, in uncorruptness gravifcy, sincerity,' 390 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [dISC. for these are every where and always applicable ; surely no where more applicable than here, at no time more necessary than now. The raore apt mankind are through arrogance and self-sufficiency to corrupt the faith, and warp the Scriptures to their vices, the more necessary, no doubt it is, that a bishop should inculcate the sound and genuine doctrines of Christianity. The more irapiously they run into levity and ridicule on sacred subjects, the greater call there is for a venerable soleranity in the episcopal chair. The raore deceitfully they equivocate on fundamentals ; the more impudently they declare for one thing, and argue for the contrary ; the more artfully and disingenuously they underraine Christianity, while they pretend only to reduce it to its priraitive purity, the greater danger there is of a general apostacy frora both truth and virtue, if their bishop does not in all parts ofhis doctrine demonstrate an inviolable integrity and sincerity. But over and above the doctrines, so generally requisite to be insisted on, were the apostle now here to lay down rules for a bishop to regulate his serraons or charges, it is hardly to be supposed, he would not direct every man, ad vanced to that order, to preach up the duty of a natural plainness in dress, in attendance, in diet, when the world is running raad after artificial refinements. Would he not, think ye, charge it home on every bishop to preach often, and warmly, on the institution of the sabbath, when the leaders of fashion are celebrating that solemnity to chance, the god of Atheists, and to avarice, the god of sharpers, at a gaming table? Would he not, can we imagine, comraand every bishop to insist, tbat all his clergy should perpetually urge the necessity of constantly, and the danger of unworthily, coraraunicating in the Eucharist, at a tirae when by far the greater part of their hearers absent themselves from it, or corae to it, twice a year only, in corapliraent to a great fes tival, or to qualify for a lucrative eraployraent ? Would he not, knowing that the bulk of the common people are as to tally ignorant of the plainest principles in religion, as the Patagons or the Hottentots, make it the first duty of a bishop to send his clergy with the railk at least of God's word into the dwellings of these babes in knowledge, but adepts in all the dishonest arts ? What would he order to be LXXIII.J THE PASTORAL DUTY. 391 said by the bishop to his clergy, when the spirit of piety is almost totally extinguished, and that of rehgious disputation flames out in all the fury of its old party rage, so that no religious warrath is felt in that polemic fire which consumes the church ? when the hair of controversy is pulled from the head, only to be split and thrown away ? When the bone of contention hath not a particle of flesh without, nor of marrow in it, even they being judges who fight about it? When it is become irapossible so rauch as to guess at a man's faifch, at a clergyman's faith, concerning the doctrine into which we were all baptized, by his every day repeating the creeds in church, or by his continually offering up his pubhc devotions to two persons, whom he therein expressly calls God, though he believes thera to be but creatures, and, as such, wholly unworthy of prayer and adoration ? When it is cried out against universally, as a breach of Christian charity to give the narae of dishonesty or insincerity to pre varication, so grossly irapious.' When the people through indifference suffer this to pass as a trifle, or through cor ruption court it as consonant to their own duplicity of heart? When ' they say to the seers. See not ; and to the prophets. Prophesy not unto us right things ; speak unto us sraooth things ; prophesy deceits ?' When the deceived, and the deceiver, so vaunt themselves to belong to God, as if they thought he abhorred sincerity? It were easy to multiply such questions alraost without end, and to shew, that corruption in principle leads directly to corruption of manners ; that, on the otber hand, bad prac tices raake loose principles necessary ; that they mutually generate each other; and that St. Paul, not only saw this; source of error and infidelity in huraan nature, but foresaw it too in fact, when he predicted the ' falling away, and the revelation of the raan of sin, whose coming is after the work ing of Satan, with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in thera that perish ; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved.' And ' for this cause God shall send them sfcrong delusion, that they should be lieve a lie ; that they all mighfc be damned, who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.' Itis true, a bishop can prescribe no new doctrine. Nor isthere any occasion for new doctrines. ' The man of God 392 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [diSC. is thoroughly furnished' in the inspired Scripture ' unto all good works, whether of doctrine, or reproof, or correction, or instruction.' In this arsenal he finds all the weapons of his warfare ready prepared to his hand. These he may use as the exigency of tiraes shall require, and so point the ar tillery of his inferior clergy against the prevailing corrup tions, whether in principle or practice, as to clear the field for a successful attack on an infaraous band, who, conscious of their own treachery, fight the battle of infidelity and wick edness only in masquerade. In this kingdora the inferior clergy depend so very rauch on their bishop, that nothing can be easier for hira, than to speak to his whole diocess through their raouths, and to prescribe even their degree of diligence in the work assigned, if diligence is followed by favour. Why then sleep we till noon, and give the enemy so long an opportunity to ' sow his tares,' not only * in the night,' as at firsfc, bufc now in the face of the day ? In the second place, it is the duty of a bishop, to exhort, which signifies soraething more than to advise, or even per suade ; it signifies to encourage, to rouse, fco stimulate. It is indeed shocking to a Christian eye, to see a pastor nod ding over his flock, while the wolf is howling, and the lion roaring round it; while the old serpent winds hiraself through it, and hisses at fche head ; a flock of iraraorfcal souls, which ' God hafch purchased wifch his blood,' and coraraifcted to the keeping of this sluraberer, with a large salary in hand for his pains, and with eternal glory in reversion, if he is found vigilant and faithful. All this, notwifchstanding, a bishop, if he will but look about hira, shall not unfrequently see one of his clergy loiter ing, or at least but slowing walking, in the race he ought to run. Nay, he shall see here one, and there another, fast asleep, while Christ is sold by a wakeful traitor to eneraies ' who sleep not, except they have done mischief.' Whence this lethargy on the side of truth and goodness ? whence that alertness on the part of error, heresy, schism, super stition, and wickedness ? Why is God so raiserably, and the infernal fiend, so zealously, so strenuously, served? what in fatuation on both sides ! with what impudence does he call hiraself a labourer in God's vineyard, who never labours ! who never even works ! who does nothing, but eat, drink, LXXIII.J THE PASTORAL DUTY. 393 sleep, shorn of all his spiritual strength, and fast bound, hand and foot, by luxury and indolence, on the lap of plea sure, while the gigantic Philistines of heresy and immo rality are upon hira ! His faith and his conscience are so deeply on the snort, that neither heaven nor hell can rouse him. Ifyou see him at all in motion, it is only to perform some mere legal duty, which not performed, might deprive him of his bread ; but here however he goes so close by the statute, and so narrowly turns the corner of the canon,that -Christ hath not the corapliraent of a hairbreadth raore, though the sheep he died for, are perishing. But were the prospect of a better parish, in case of greater diligence, set before hira by his bishop, on the rausic of such a promise, like one bit by a tarantula, we should probably soon see him in motion, and serving God (0 shameful !) for the sake of mammon, as if his torpid body had been animated anew by a returning soul. Is it true then, that this world can do so much raore than heaven ? Yes, with him, who hath no sen sation, but on the side next this world. It is true too, that all men have but too lively a feeling on the other side; so that it would infinitely advance the cause of religion and virtue, were worldly wealth and honour always inviolably at tached to superior service. Could religion bring over this baptisraal eneray to her standard, he would do the execu tion of an elephant, I raean, under the raanagement of a steady and skilful band. Did religion hold forth riches and honour in her left hand, whafc mighfc she not do with her right ! Ifa bishop should find a man araong his clergy,to whora what I have been saying is but too applicable, it would be well done to let hira know, that he is ready to confer rewards on substantial raerit, and is ready to infiict canonical dis grace and conterapt on the want of it ; and that Christ did not labour and die, only tbat his clergy raight live in luxury and ease. A bishop may soraetiraes raeet with one in his diocess who knows not this. I speak charitably, for surely,. if he does know it, he deserves, not to be exhorted, but. In the third place, to be rebuked with all authority. There are several degrees of reproof, whereof a rebuke is the sharp est. Beyond this again, the jurisdiction of a bishop ex tends, as occasion may require, to public admonitions, sus- 394 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [disC. pensions, degradations, in regard to his clergy, and to ex communication, in regard to both them and the laity. Although our clergy do generally and greatly stand in need of exhortation, yet, God be thanked, there are but few of them who deserve rebuke. In general their behaviour is regular. The stream of the ministry araong us exceeds in purity the waters of that lay raorass, from whence it runs (shameful praise !) as much as it did in the primitive times. We ai-e culpable for doing too lifctle good, rather than for crirainal liberties. In this I speak the common sense of mankind ; but must at the sarae tirae confess, that, in the eye of God, and with due regard to the important nature of our office, to be only not wicked, is highly criminal in per sons so stationed as we are. In case however a bishop shall be so unhappy as to see a spot in the assembly of his clergy, it is, no doubt, his duty, either to wash off its blackness, or totally to expunge it. That clergyman who settles on tbe inveterate lees of his own indolence, or whose spirit of piety, and regard to duty, die down to vapidness, is to be pitied, and, if possible, re-fer mented by his bishop to a life and warrath, raore becoming the service of an infinite Benefactor and Master. But a profligate clergyman is a monster, which its own mother the church ought to fling out of sight. The laity will never willingly submit to excommunication, while they behold a clergyman giving the sacrament, who is known to be guilty of the same criraes, for which they are forbid to receive it. Yet excomraunication, the inherent discipline of the church, which it exercised under persecution, which it is still permitted to exercise under the present establishment, and to which its power is at present almost absolutely con fined, ought to be more frequently applied, than it is, as well to the delinquent laity, as clergy. Communion with the body of Christ is thrown too open, and made too cheap, ifa dissolute wretch may, after a long self-excomraunication by wilful absence, and perseverance "in wickedness, boldly ap proach the Lord's table, without the sraallest tokens of amend* ment, or any satisfaction given to the church. The dying profligate, who, for whole years, could neither be persuaded nor corapelled to corae in, thinks he hath nothing to do, but to send for his rainister, hear two or three prayers, receive LXXIII.J JHE PASTORAL D.UTY. 395 the sacrament, and so go off to regions of bliss, as secure of a good reception, as the veriest saint. His clergyman is too ready to encourage this fallacious hope by a most insnaring compliance with his desire, in the presence of ten or twenty parishioners, and to the knowledge frequently of a large vici nity. The poor ignorant people think, their, clergyman knows perfectly well what ought to be done, and on this occasion does only his duty. Hence it is, that the most immoral .and pernicious article of Popery is brought into common prac tice among us, under the mask of mistaken charity ; and the misguided flock are taught by repeated acts to regard it as no great matter what sort of life a man shall lead, pro vided he can have this benefit of clergy at the close; and so the most sacred ordinances of religion are tumed into so many engines of seduction. There is a loud, but unreasonable cry set up against the spiritual courts, wherein, after all, as much right is done, and far lighter-fees exacted, than in any other court whatso ever. But if my lords, the bishops, would oftener person ally preside in their own courts, particularly with an eye to the castigation of wickedness, the jurisdiction would soon recover somewhat of its ancient reputation, and, greatly as it is cramped by law, might be turned to very good account, as well in regard to the state, as the church. The apostle, in my text, expressly charges the bishop to rebuke with all prerogative of comraand, as. EmTayri iraports. I need not stay here to prove, after Hooker, King, and Potter, have so fully done it, that the authority of the bishop in rebuking, as well as in his other purely episcopal offices, is the authority of God. ' As my Father hath sent me,' saith Christ to his apostles, ' so send I you ;' and so sent they their successors ; so sent Paul his Tiraothy to Ephesus, and his Titus to Crete, to ordain and govern the two lower orders of the church, and to preside over the whole laity, no less than clergy, as must evidently appear to every irapartial reader of the three episties to those bishops. If then the authority of the bishop is the authority of the Alraighty God, what hath a bishop to fear in the faithful discharge of a purely spiritual duty, which, when discharged according to God's word, is set above all human control ? Thus thought the humble Ambrose, who had fled from the 396 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [disC. episcopal chair as unworthy of it, when he obliged Theodo sius the Great to do public penance at Milan for a horrid murder, ere he adraitted hira to fche Lord's table ; and thus thought that emperor too in the raidst of his triuraphs. Thus indeed should every real Christian have still thought, had every bishop, blessed with the knowledge and piety, not to say, courage of an Arabrose, taken care to support, by all parts of his episcopal conduct, the dignity of the place he fills. But unhappily while one bishop shamefully prosti tuted his spiritual powers, and usurped another set of powers in temporals, of still greater extent, the rest of the bishops in the west, harassed and terrified by continual appeals to this, shrunk themselves, and their sacred function, into a littleness, which hath proved fatal to discipline, and through a decay of discipline, to piety and virtue. So very low hath the opinion of a bishop's authority been brought by these and the like means, that, in our own times, the late bishop of Sodor and Man was thrown into a dungeon, where he was very nigh perishing, for refusing the sacraraent to the strurapet of a sorry deputy. The applauses, wherewith that good man hath been loaded by the better sort of people for this act of discipline, as a singular instance of piety and resolution, are the keenest reproaches, ever uttered against the present state of religion, and carry with them a sting, far exceeding in sharpness all the satire and sneer of the Independent Whig, discharged on that bishop and his bre thren. What! did he not act as he ought to have done? Did he do raore than his duty strictly required ? Had he not shewn hiraself one of the meanest of mankind, and wholly unfaithful fco the trust reposed in him, if through fear he had cast the inestiraable pearl in his hand before a swine ? Who would not have acted as he did : Who would not have rejoiced with the apostles and hira for havingbeen thought worthy to suffer .shame for his narae and honour, who endured the cross for us all ? Where then is the ex alted singularity of an act which any other bishop, in his place, raust, and, I hope, would have perforraed, as well as he? Why, truly, such actions are seldom seen, and many scandalous offenders are every day admitted to the sacra ment. True, bufc nofc to the knowledge of our bishops surely. The bishops therefore ought to look down with a sharper LXXIII.J THE PASTORAL DUTY. 397 eye on what is doing araong us the inferior clergy, for God will call them to an account for those irregularities of ours, which they ought to know, or how otherwise can they apply a remedy in time to come ? Besides, we are poor timid creatures, with perhaps a scanty provision of bread, and that often exposed to the ill temper of many, whora strictness in the discharge of our duty, particularly as to suspensions, might offend. We therefore want, or think we want, the countenance of a higher order to support us in matters of discipline. The bishop, vested with a plenitude of divine authority, and, no doubt, for such purposes as these relating to discipline, armed by the constitution of our country with wealth, power, and peerage, raight enable us to stand our ground on the canons, and on a rubric backed by an ex press act of parliaraent, against all who might expect un reasonable and impious compliances at our hands, were he pleased, by a previous prohibition, to take to himself the honour of an authorized refusal. This, I own, might, now and then, occasion a ruffle ; but is it not better to have a ruffle with raen, than with God ? That however the authority of a bishop may be properly supported in the necessary, but offensive duty of rebuking, his dignity is superadded by the apostle, as a buttress, in those reraarkable and comprehensive words, ' Let no raan despise thee.' Let none of thy inferior clergy, nor of the. laity, coraraitted to your and their care (for this epistle was to be publickly read in all the churches of Crete) presurae, whether exhorted or rebuked, to entertain a despicable idea of one advanced by the providence of God into the place of his Son. Although the abilities, and even behaviour of a man, thus stationed, should not be sufficient to exalt him very high in the esteem of those he is known to, yet when it is considered that he is the delegate and representative of Christ; that he is, under God, the head of raany churches; that edification, order, and governraent, are put into his hands, that he raay ' feed the flock of God, go in and out before them,' and separate from them such as are tainted with contagious disorders ; and that he is the iramediate reservoir, frora whence all under hira are to derive the word, the sacraments, the benefits of Christ's death, and the bene-. dictions of an infinitely gracious Father ; they cannot as- 398 THE PASTORAL DUTY. [DISC. suredly be Christians, who do not reverence him for the sake of his Master and his work. ' He,' saith Christ, speak ing to his apostles and their successors, ' who despiseth you, despiseth me, and he who despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me. As my Father sent me, so send I you,' to all ages and nations ; ' and lo, I ara with you to the end of the world.' It follows, that where our bishop is, there is Christ, and where Christ is, there is the Father. Can a bishop then, considered as such, be an object of conterapt? Not possibly, unless he himself should forget, that he is a bishop. ' Let no raan despise thee,' is therefore to be understood as a coramand given, not only to the inferior clergy and the laity, but also to the bishop hiraself. If the philosopher with good reason orders every raan to reverence hiraself, a bishop, in the superior lustre of whose episcopal character the man, the private person, is lost, should much more re verence himself, as one in whom nothing mean or base can possibly harbour, without betraying the raajesty of his con stituent. To prevent this, a lively conscience, with a mind unbiassed, and a moderate degree of understanding, may he sufficient. The wisdom requisite to prevent the contempt of a bishop, is laid up ready in the holy Scriptures. A little address, or rather an unaffected simplicity, added to this, will more than corapensate for a want of refinement. It is hardly to be imagined how far an irapartial understanding, I mean of the raoderate sort, will carry a bishop in the choice of fit persons to fill his vacant benefices, and in governing his diocess, beyond a vastly higher capacity, under the crooked guidance of an eye, squinting to faraily connexions, or views of higher promotion. A warm zeal for the glory of God in the salvation of souls is essential to conscience in the episcopal character. This zeal, and that impartiality, will carry up a bishop near to perfection. But if to these are added, the powers of a strong under standing, enlarged by a thorough knowledge of the Scrip tures, of theology, of mankind, of the canon law, of the ec clesiastical statutes, and ballasted by discretion and firmness of soul, we have then a bishop, qualified to raise the dignity of his person and place to its very summit. If infidelity should assault him, guarded on all sides by the armour of God, and shining in the lustre of a holy example, he shall LXXIII.J THK PASTORAL DUTY. 399 so lay about him with the two-edged sword of his Master, as to overwhelm all opposition. If superstition or enthusiasm should hope to take advantage of his meek and dispassionate coolness, the sound reason, by which he acts and speaks, will easily puff out the ill-fuelled blaze of the one, and, like a solar light, extinguish the feeble fire of the other. If his church, through schisms, through contrariety of opinions, through discontents, at the legal maintenance of his clergy, shall, at any time, like a too fiery horse bound under him with a violence, dreadful to weaker riders, you shall see him strain or relax the reins with a skill, thoroughly well accom modated to occasions ; you shall see him keep his seat firm, and his countenance serene. This dignity, arising alraost to raajesty, is rather height ened, than lowered, by the huraility of the man, as often as the meanest of his flock hath occasion to approach him ; by his fatherly tendemess of heart, when raisery cries to him for relief ; by his plainness in doctrine; by his calraness in argument ; by his candour and good-huraour to gainsayers ; by his affectionate hospitality, equally removed from porap and sordidness; by his unaffected contentment with what he possesses ; by his residing perhaps in the most remote and disagreeable part of the kingdom, so that no man bath room to say to him, ' with whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness?' Though qualified to adorn the most brilliant court, and to support distinction araong princes, he is found araong the sheep, and is better pleased to handle the crosier than to wear the mitre. How free, how affable, how engaging, and yet how guarded, is his conversation in mixed corapanies ! How instructive, when he and his clergy enter together on the discussion of sorae important subject of religion, some Scriptural difficulty, or some point of ministerial prudence ! How easily and na turally he slides into a knowledge of their abihties, princi ples, tempers ! How sensibly they grow into wiser and better men under his culture ! A good bishop seldom fails to make a good clergy ; a good clergy as seldora fail to make a good people. The sun of the diocess diffuses his light and warmth in plenty over the primary, and they again over the secondary class of Christians, throughout the whole systeni of believers, 400 THE pastoral XIUTY. [disC Of such pastors we have had many, have still soine, and more we shall have, if our destruction is not decreed. The work increases in proportion as profligacy of principle and manners grows upon us. It grows apace, .and is already in deed come to such a height, as to require, I fear, more than human power to bring it under. We are at present an ig norant and abandoned people. ? ' There is none that doth good, no not one. Frora the sole of the foot, even unto the head, there is no soundness in us.' We quarrel about reli gion, and have none. The recusant saps the foundation of establishment; and the establishment, vainly considering its foundation as too firm to be shaken, deigns not fco look so low as the raine. The Deist, aided by the Arian, spreads his spirit of indifference first, and then of conterapt for re velation universally. At best, we are but half Christians. Dissipation of tirae, fortune, thought, extirpates all'religion and virtue at the upper end of life, and rushes downward on the lower ranks, as fast as villany can derive the materials. Ours are the only bishops in the world, who never meet sy- nodically, to confer on the truths, or coalesce in the spirit of religion. Hence a crop of portentous opinions. Hence unnatural warrath in the defence and propagation of false religions. Hence coolness to real religion. Hence, as a ne cessary consequence, wickedness is become rampant, for we have now found tbe way to sin on principle. The barometer of the church hath sunk far below the Laodicean degree. We shiver to a deatii of piety and goodness on the brink of atheistical indifference. What specific is tbere for this ague of the soul ? what thaw for hearts so frozen ? Are we to ex pect the thunder of God's judgments, ere we can hope to feel again the warm weather of Christianity ? They shudder at the thought of these, which become every day more dread fully probable, ought to rouse us to an intense exertion of all the little strength still left us, in order to a speedy reco very of Christianity, ere it is gone beyond our reach, and to a speedy reformation of manners, ere virtue and common de cency are wholly banished frora among us. ' Is there none to guide the church among all the sons she hath brought forth ? None that taketh her by the hand of all the sons she hath brought up ?' If we really believe, as we continually preach, that the salvation of souls, of our own souls too, LXXIII.J THE PASTORAL DUTY. 401 bought by the blood of Christ, with heaven and hell, are all at stake, how can we be cool ? A cold fire, and a cold Chris tian, are equal absurdities in language, equal irapossibilities in nature. But if there are degrees of absurdity and irapos sibility, as of infinite, how infinitely absurd and irapossible must coldness be in a preacher of the gospel ! in a bishop, from whom the saving wisdom of Christianity should de scend, as from the head, and its vital warrath circulate as from the heart, through all the orders and raerabers of the church. Wanting reformation myself, I set not up for a censor or reformer of others, in speaking as I have done. No, having been called to this office, not sought it, in uttering this my laraentation over the church of God, I have filled but a small pipe, where a loud trurapet ought to have been blown, have pushed the lancet of truth into the general sore, though I pierced ray own heart at the sarae tirae. But the wise have been taught raedicine by a dog, and Rome was saved by the vigilant warnings of an aniraal, deeraed still lower in the scale of understanding. Vain however is the attempt of such a wretch ; vain, I feai^ to put our trust in any son of man, or even in princes, for a remedy against evils, too inveterate to be reraoved or averted by any hand, but that which is almighty. Happy were we, after all, could we repose a rational hope in the Lord -our God, frora whora we have raiserably departed. That this hope raay nevertheless have some foundation (for infinite are the long-suffering patience and goodness of God) let us repent and pray. 0 Lord God, the light and life of tbe soul, disperse our errors ; revive our piety ; turn thou us, and so shall we be turned, to thee, through Christ Jesus, our Redeemer, to whom, with thee, and the Holy Spirit, one eternal and glo rious Trinity, be all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. VOL. III. 2 B 402 Christ's charity sermon. 1di.sc. DISCOURSE LXXIV. CHRIST'S CHARITY SERMON. Matt. xxir. 37—40. Tliou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and until ail thy mind. This is thefirst and great commandment. And the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and tlie propkets. Hear now the charity sermon of Christ himself, on this his own text. ' When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory : ' And before hira shall be gathered all nations. And he shall separate thera one from another, as a shepherd divideth bis sheep from the goats : ' And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on his left. 'Then shall the King say unto thera on his right hand, Corae, ye children of ray Father, inherit the kingdom pre pared for you from the foundation of the world : ' For 1 was an hungred, and ye gave me meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave rae drink : I was a stranger, and ye took me in : 'Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited mei I was in prison, and ye carae unto me. ' Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ? ' When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in ? or naked, and clothed thee ? ' Or, when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? ' And the King shall answer, and say unto them, Verily 1 LXXIV. J Christ's charity sermon. 403 say unto you. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto rae. 'Then shall he say unto them on the left hand. Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels : * For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no raeat : I was thirsty, and ye gave rae no drink : ' I was a stranger, and ye took me not in : naked, and ye clothed me not : sick, and in prison, and ye visited rae not. ' Then shall they also answer him, saying. Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee .'' 'Then shall he answer tbem, saying. Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. ' And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal.' It would, I think, my dear fellow-Christians, give just cause of offence to you all, should I now make you an ha rangue on the subject of Christian charity in general, or on that of alms-giving in particular. Should I not in so doing too strongly say, you are not Christians ; you do not un derstand the plainest, nor feel the most pathetic words of Christ? Nay, should I not be guilty of arrogance intolera ble, should I presume to add any thing to an address, made by infinite wisdom to the understandings and affections of a Christian audience, drawn together on this occasion, by the previous power of that veiy spirit, which dictated this ad dress? Who shall corae after God? The eloquence of men, of angels, would be but futility to this. Christ hath spoken. You are Christians. Shall I not therefore quit the pulpit, and return into my own ex treme insignificance ? No, I perceive, by that profound silence, you expect even I should say somewhat. Be it so. A little time may possibly be passed by us with some profit, and much pleasure, in a few reflections on this won derful sermon of our God and Saviour. We cannot add ; but we may, we ought to meditate. Let us therefore cor dially enter into the most beautiful of all discourses, on the most beautiful ofall subjects. 2 D 2 404 Christ's charity sermon. [disc. The religion of Christ, which, in a thousand places of his gospel, is finely figured to us as light to the under standing, is here, with regard to the heart, summed up in love ; love towards God, and love towards our neighbour. God hiraself is a sun, is love. The true religion beaming forth frora hira, all lurainous and lovely^ partakes his nature, and iraparts it; partakes and iraparts Christ Jesus, who comes to us as a great light, and the Holy Spirit, who de scends upon us as fire, to warm us with charity. Our reli gion, like the second and third persons in the Holy Trinity, consists of light and love coessential with each other, and with its source. St. Jaraes speaks of thera as one. ' Bre thren, if any of you do err frora the truth, and one convert hira, let hira know, that he which converteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins.' See how error and sin are treated as one ; and are not their opposites, truth and charity, one ? Most surely. To know God is to love him. To know our neighbour, as of the same nature with ourselves, and as the creature, if not child, of God, is to love hira. To love God and our neighbour is to fulfil the whole law of Christ ; for every man, warmed by tbis charity, must labour to honour God, and cherish his neighbour, in proportion to his degree of love. Truth and charity, or goodness, are, in the real Christian, so essentially united, like hght and warmth, their scriptural emblems, in the natural world, as never to he se parated. Every one knows how the sunbeams operate on the vegetable and aniraal creation. The good Christian knows, how, in like raanner, true religion, the eraanation of God, sheds daylight on the understanding, charity on the heart, penetrates, pervades, invigorates, the soul, and ma tures its virtues. He experiraentally knows how it may, by meditation and devotion, be so socially collected, as to consume every thing in him that is earthly, and assiinilate to itself the purer part of his coraposition, which, thus sub limed, rises, and mixes with its connatural element above. By this train of thinking you see how all good Christians are made partakers even of the divine nature. And frora this view of our religion, as consisting of light and love, the words of Christ, just now repeated, carry us to the consideration of this religion, as operat- Lxxiv.J Christ's charity sermon. 405 ing on the heart particularly, and there begetting love or charity. Now, it is very, observable, that in this love towards God and man, our divine Instructor places the sum and substance of all true religion and virtue. It is his own assertion, that on these two hang all the law and the prophets, for in his mouth the charitable are tbe righteous. St. Paul too main tains, that love is the fulfilling of the law. But lest you should take this for an account of the law, as contradistin guished from the gospel, you perceive our blessed Saviour, in that which I call his charity sermon, states the trial of the last day on the footing of charity alone, as extended, or refused, to him in his indigent merabers. This is the very gospel ; and here its author lets all Christians, whether real, or only professed, know beforehand, in what raanner he will deal with thera at the final judgraent. His two sen tences are already pronounced and recorded, as the sanc tions of his law ; ' Come, ye blessed of my Father,' or ye charitable, ' inherit the kingdora prepared for you frora the foundation of the world ;' and, ' Go, ye accursed,' or ye un charitable, ' into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.' The execution iraraediately follows, ' these shall go away into everlasting punishraent, but the righteous into life eternal.' It is very observable, indeed, till we refiect a little, asto nishing, that our Lord, after placing all religion and duty in charity, should, farther still, reduce all charity to alrasgiving ; whereas St. Paul plainly intiraates the possibility of a raan's giving all his goods to the poor, without having charity. It is certain, this be may do through vanity, superstition, or hatred towards his relations. But it is equally certain, that he who relieves the poor through compassion for the poor, and love towards Christ, is a very different sort of raan. This man raust be a true Christian, and can hardly be sup posed to want, in any one respect, at least as much solici tude for the honour of God, and the safety of his own soul, as for the body of his neighbour. If however he hath sin ned (and who hath not), his fervent, or rather, extensive, charity shall cover the raultitude of his sins. Who is there among us who shall hear the poor man crying to the rich in the name of Jesus for help, and see the rich melting into 406 Christ's charity sermon, [disc. pity, and its beneficent effects, and will not take it for granted, that the latter is a Christian ? Change the scene, let the poor man go away unrelieved, who is he that will call his rich neighbour a Christian? It will be evident, that this most honourable appellation is, on these occasions, neither given, nor refused, at randora, if it is considered, that Christian faith, the mother of all the gospel graces and virtues, is, in a peculiar manner, the principle and spring of Christian charity. Faith in Christ is a firm belief of his doctrines, and of all he hath done and suffered for our sal vation. Hence love for him, and for all that are one with hira. Hence that exquisite feeling, which is iramediately perceived in every meraber of Christ, when any other is touched. Hence that consent of parts in the spiritual body, which shews, that the whole is united to a common head, and animated by one coramon soul. It is through this that the sensations of Christ are com municated upwards from every individual of his church, and that he feels in every Christian, I mean, particularly in the sufferings of every Christian, more keenly than he did in the hands and feet of his natural body, when the nails went through them into his cross. It is therefore on this he founds that idea of charity, which he would have all his followers imbibe, when he represents himself as hungry, as thirsty, as naked, as a stranger, as sick, as imprisoned, in every the most inconsiderable Christian, who is destitute of meat, drink, clothes, or lodging ; or who languishes on a sick bed, or in a jail. O blessed Jesus ! what condescension, what compassion, what tenderness is here I Scarcely the cross itself can ex hibit more. How can a Christian be hard-hearted ? Oh! no. A son may tear the flesh from the bones of his aged father, a mother may roast her new-born infant alive; and the corruption of nature may palliate the horror; but a Christian must be tender, must have pity, cannot give up the Son of God, who died for his soul, to new and unneces sary distresses, that he may save a few shillings, to be wasted on those poraps and vanities, or on those sinful lusts of the flesh, which he renounced by the most solemn of all vows, when he called himself after Christ. This is too much indeed for thfe hew nature to bear. A man born again Lxxiv.j Christ's charity sermon. 407 is like Christ, the author of regeneration ; is incorporated with, and lives in Christ ; is acted by the spirit or raind, which is in Christ Jesus. How then can that joy or sor row, which are felt by Christ, be unfelt by a Christian ? It is true, the church is called the body of Christ, in a figure. Is Christ therefore to expect nothing more frora us, than a mere figurative belief? Is the union between Christ and a Christian only notional ? Is it not as much a reality, as the most literal truth could vouch it to be ? Nay, is it not a li teral truth, that Christ gave up his natural body to a most painful and ignorainious death, to save his church or spiri tual body, as dearer to hira ? And does not the Holy Ghost, in representing the sin of a Christian as a fresh crucifixion of Christ, give us plainly to understand, that our blessed head, raystically indeed, but really and truly, feels in us his members as keenly, as for us, on the first cross, to which We nailed hira? If I should say to ray neighbour, I am hungry, and he should deny it, every by-stander would charge him not only with a lie, but with brutish impudence. A man best knows his own disfcresses. Chrisfc who knows all things, may surely be allowed to know, when he himself is hungry, thirsty, &c. To prevent all hard-hearted and selfish cavils on this subject, he hath stated the case, asserted his own distress, and put the doubt concerning it into the mouths both of the charitable and uncharitable, ' When saw we thee an hungred, or thirsty,' &c. To which, lest they should not perfectly believe hira, he answers with an eraphasis, ' Verily I say unto you, as you did, or did it not, unto one of the least of these, you did it, or did it not, unto me.' A fact, thus cleared and asserted by our Lord hiraself, no Christian will dare to question in words. But let it be here observed, that whosoever, though able, does not relieve the distresses of his Saviour, gives the lie to that Saviour by refusing help, raore strongly and inhumanly, than it is pos sible to do it in words ; or at least disowns all obligation from gratitude, all inducement frora hope, and that con nexion with hira and his body, wbich ought to produce the relief he stands so rauch in need of, and here so loudly calls for. Our blessed Redeemer, when persecuted to deafch by the 408 Christ's charity sermon. [disc. Jews and Roraans, could have easily called a host of an gels to his assistance ; but tben how should the prophecies have been fulfilled, or our redemption wrought? In like manner, whenbe earned his bread by a trade, or subsisted on the benevolence or a few poor Galileans, and was worse lodged than the birds and foxes, he could have supplied hiraself frora the united treasures of heaven and earth ; but then how had an exaraple of infinite humility, self-denial, and conterapt for worldly porap and riches, been set us by him who best knew their insignificance? As he acted in his natural body, so does he in his spiritual. He is able, of himself, and without any aid frora his creatures, or even in defiance of the whole world, to raake corafortable provision for all his wants, and relieve himself from every species of distress, down to that which raay affect hira in his lowest or raost deplorably afflicted meraber. But were he to do all hiraself, how then should our love towards hira, or his mem bers and our Christian brethren, be exercised ? How should our gratitude for his infinite goodness to us, be ever either cultivated or exhibited ? By this raeans the lovely band of Christian charity, adorned with ten thousand graces, being dissolved, the church raust be separated from its head, must die, raust crurable into a dust of individuals, ugly and un happy. No, my dear Christian audience, Christ, the express image of God, by whose death we are delivered frora eternal infaray and raisery, and entitled fco infinite glory and happi ness, is ever among us, and continually presents himself to us in his iraage, that is, in every Christian, but more emi nently in every poor distressed and destitute Christian. Let us look on these with some share of that pity, wherewith the Son of God hath looked on us, in the filthy rags of our sins, not strangers only, but aliens and eneraies, sick to death eternal, sold, enslaved, iraprisoned ; let us melt into pity for these little Christs, and in thera hear the voice of the Son of God, who cries out, I am an hungred ; O you, whora I have fed with my own fiesh and blood, give rae to eat. I am thirsty ; O you, for whora I opened in ray side a living fountain, give rae to drink. I am naked; O you, whom I have clothed with my own proper righteousness, give me. ciothes. I ara a stranger ; O you, whom 1 brought by LXXIV.J Christ's charity sermon. 409 adoption into my Father's house, take me in from the rain and snow. I am sick and in prison ; O you, whose mortal disorders I have healed, whose souls 1 have redeemed with the price of my blood out of the hands ofyour enemy, who had taken you prisoners, and tyrannized over you at his will, corae to rae with medicines, come to me with the sum I owe, and set me at liberty. Help rae, you who hold all your riches in trust frora rae, with a httle of ray own. I died for you; O ray friends, ray brethren, suffer me not to perish again through want, while you abound with every comfort, every luxury of life. You raay relieve rae, without sensibly curtailing the sraallest of your innocent enjoyraents. Live in affluence, but suffer rae not to starve. Take now the conclusion of this whole matter in the words of our Lord himself; these, the hard-hearted,, the im pious, who had no feeling, either of nature through their fellow-creature, or of religion and gratitude, through their suffering Saviour, shall go away into everlasting fire ; but the righteous, that is, the tender-hearted, the lover of Christ and Christians, who melted at the miseries ofhis Saviour in all his merabers, as through the close connexion of one common nature, one soul, one body, shall go away into life eternal. From the first kindlings of mere good will, through kindness, affection, friendship, up to the stronger glow of love or charity, which crowns the charraing cliraax, and through all the outgoings and exercises of tenderness, in its various degrees of warmth, there is none that emits so beautiful or so ardent a flame, as that which hath brought us together this day. It is not merely to relieve the bodies of our fellow-Christians from teraporary wants, from disorders, soon terminating however in health or death, nor even from a death, which all our wealth, ex pended in food, raiment, and medicine, cannot long pro crastinate ; no, this charity of charities, after doing every thing that can be done for the wretched body, goes forward, and carries food for fche famished soul, clofching for fche nakedness of the soul, a panacea for every disorder of the soul, and an infallible amulet against the eternal death of the soul. Ye are come hither this day, ye friends of Christ, ye 410 Christ's charity sermon. [disc. favourites of heaven, to seek for the lost sheep on the ave nue of hell, and to restore it to the flock ofthe true Shep herd. Ye are come to snatch the brand, already kindled, frora an infernal fire, to quench ifc in fche water of life, and give it a new root by the tree of life. Ye are come to per fect the work of Christ, fco save a soul he died for, and thus thank him for the salvation of your own. O glorious thanks ! which in tbeir success, give an additional joy to the triuraphs, and loudness to the hyrans, of heaven, for the conversion of a sinner. If the wounds of Christ bleed anew at the touch of those professors, who raurder him afresh . by tbeir sins, how sweetly are they soothed and healed again by the balsam of your charity ! It is surely God tbat worketh in you, both to will and to do the business, on which you meet at this place, insomuch, that we may see his hand in yours, with a glory round it, as it is stretched out with your contribution. God, infinitely high above sin and misery, looks with pity on the sins and miseries of his crea tures. With an eye like bis, you the chaste weep for the lewdness, and you the wealthy, consider the wants of others. This indeed is godlike. What a noble, what an acceptable sacrifice of thanksgiving 1 what an amiable ac knowledgraent is this, that, had it not been for the grace and bounty of Providence, you might have been as wicked and indigent, as those who now excite your compassionate attention ! Were there any here (but there is none) to whose se ducing arts these, or fche like objecfcs, owe their unhappy fall, horror and compunction oughfc to furnish them with yet stronger motives to contribute on this occasion, than those of your charity, warm as it is. Corruptors, however, are not apt to be reforraers. No, it is theirs to debauch and abandon; yours to follow and reclaim, in which blessed work you do not only retrieve the poor soul, already fallen, but prevent the fall of many others, on whom the wretch in question might revenge the injury done her by our sex. Your goodness in this double, this comphcated work of charity, cannot be conceived, without first conceiving the complicated enormities attendant on the life of a common prostitute. Yet here is a mass of filth and stench, which forbids the approach of decency. What a vice is that which LXXIV.J Christ's charity sermon. 411 cannot be lashed in the language of modest people, which must not be so much as mentioned but in terms, fit only to soften it down into a mere frailty, which, maggot-like, sur rounds, conceals, and defends itself in that heap of ordure which gave it birth. Sufflce it to say, that this vice turns the most beautiful and modest part of our species, once a Christian too ! into a monster of impudence, lewdness, foulness, hardly ex ceeded by those fiends, into whose horrible corapany and abode she is hastening ; turns her into a factor for the infernal -deceiver, for whora she trades on the way to hell, with a success more fatal to virtue, to fortune, to character, to health, to life, than that ofhis other instruments, and often leaves the print of blood and murder where she treads. It is to bring this miserable creature back to Christ ; it it to defeat the flagitious trade she at present drives, and provide for her when reclaimed to the service of Christ, that this house is crowded with the friends of Christ and virtue. Blessed sight indeed I O assembly, brilliant in the eyes of Heaven ! let your hearty overflow with joy, and your voices loudly resound his praise, who hath given you the will and power, thus to serve your God, thus to save your fellow- creature, and thus to relieve your Saviour in your fellow- Christian. To God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be all praise and honour, all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen. FORM OF PRAYER USE OF FAMILIES, IN VVHICH ARE INCLUDEU THE NECESSARY PRINCIPLES AND DUTIES OF CHRISTIANITY. As far me and my hoiise, we will sei~ve the Lord. — Josh. xxiv. 15. THE PREFACE. The intention of the following form of prayer is to furnish families with a proper instrument for their devotions, and at the sarae tirae to convey a short and clear suraraary ofall the necessary duties, whether of faith or practice, in which a Christian ought to be instructed ; to the end that every master of a faraily, at the sarae tirae that he perforras the duty of family prayer, raay without much farther trouble, fully instruct his children and servants in the principles of our most holy religion. Every person in a family where this form shall be con stantly used, will of course soon commit the whole to me mory : and in so doing will, with the help of a yery little explanation, be made sufficiently acquainted with all that is required of a Christian either to believe or practise. This, it is hoped, will render the Christian duty of a parent or mas ter so short and easy, that none who think at all of answering to God for the discharge of that duty, can reasonably desire to have it pufc on a more practicable footing. The two du ties of prayer and instruction are here drawn into one, and that one made so brief, and so agreeable, that no excuse is left for fche omission of it. Nothing is more comraon than to hear parents complain ing in the most affecting terms, of the undufcifulness shewn to thera by their children. Masters are still louder in the complaints they make of their servants. In this both are often unreasonable ; for although it is but too true that the children in raany families are very undutiful, and the servants extremely idle and dishonest, yet their parents and masters, generally speaking, can have no right to complain of them either to God or man ; not to God, who knows that they have neglected to teach them the very first principles of re hgion, on which all duty and virtue necessarily depend; nor to man, since most of the bad members of all public societies have learned their vices in ill regulated families, under care less parents, and irreligious masters. 416 THE preface. The minds of young people easily receive impressions, are inquisitive and fond of knowledge. Their hearts are tender and penetrable. Their meraories are strong and re tentive. The principles therefore of virtue or vice raust soon take deep root in so kindly a soil. If tiraely care be not taken to seize their affections and passions in favour of God and a good life, by raeans of religious instructions, and the most engaging examples of piety and virtue, the busy enemy of mankind will not fail to intrude with his teraptations ; and finding all erapty, and an open passage, will take such a possession of the heart as jt will be alraost irapossible ever to drive hira frora afterward. How does any parent expect to answer before the face of a just God for those children, whora although he bath produced thera out of his own bowels, he hath nevertheless by his neglect given over to ignorance, wickedness, and final destruction ? How shall an earthly raaster, who believes that he him self hath a raaster in heaven, account for his suffering those poor creatures, who corae young into his service frora parents, too ignorant or too careless to instruct thera, to run on in ignorance and wickedness to eternal raisery, while they are labouring to support hira in ease and plenty ? Surely pa rents and raasters, who are capable ofthis, have no bowels of corapassion, no fear of God, no right to good children or servants ; and they will find at the last, that in this great crime of omission, they have as effectually neglected and undone their own souls, as those of their unhappy offspring and doraestics. And yet their duty in this respect, is most delightful in itself, and most happy when duly discharged, in its effects. Can any man be raore agreeably eraployed, than in training up his child or his fellow-creature to the service of God and eternal happiness ? Can he so effectually recoraraend hirar self to the Father and Master of the world by any other raeans f Or can he expect either corafort or satisfaction in those under hira, if he suffers thera to grow up, without any sense of duty to God or him, and harden, perhaps beyond all reclaiming, in habits of irapiety and vice f Nor is the duty of faraily prayer less'necessary or agree able. Farailies depend as absolutely on God as kingdoms TUE PREFACE. 417 or single persons. That family, which does not worship God, is as properly speaking heathen or ungodly, as any par ticular raan can be, who refuses to worship him. Besides, the performance of this important duty hath something so pleasing and so affecting in it, thatthe general disuse of ii is hardly to be accounted for. A good man can never surely think himself in a raore honourable or happy situation, than when he is on his knees, uttering the devotions of hiraself, his dear wife aud children, and dutiful doraestics. He has before hira, at that delightful juncture, all fche occasions of happiness that God hath blessed hira with, and is then em ployed in adoring the giver, and praising his benefactor. There is a transport of joy in this raost tender act of wor ship, which none but the basest minds can be insensible of. Farther, the neglect ofthis duty raust argue as great a want of wisdora as of piety, if it is true that God does really go vern the world, and that all we enjoy or suffer flows imrae diately frora his disposing hand, which turns the course of all events with irresistible power in favour of those, vvho claira, by an humble and constant worship of him, the pro tection of his providence ; and directly against all such as resist his will, and despise his service. That infinitely gra cious Being raust look with peculiar favour and love on a family, that is ever sending up its voice and eyes to him for protection, and ever blessing him for his mercies. But such as turn their eyes downward on the world, and put their trust in themselves and their possessions, whieh is the sarae as to renounce God, and league with his enemy, are no doubt perfectly odious and abominable in his sight, and must be guilty of strange presuraption, if they expect his assistance and blessing, which as a family, they do not think it worth their while to apply for. Were God more known, he would be better served. Whoever knows, for instance, that he is a Being of infinite power and justice, must fear him. Whoever considers him as present in every family, nay, and in every heart, raust be always greatly on his guard, since he is continually in so awful a presence. Whoever regards hira as a Father, a Sa viour, a Coraforter, a Friend, and a Protector, of infinite compassion and goodness, cannot but love him. Now he who is possessed with a due fear and love of God, who is VOL. III. 2 E 418 THE PREFACE. thankful for his mercies past, and who hopes for his future favour, will always be careful to put his family under the protection of God ; and in order to it, will see that his chil dren and servants know how to worship hira; and will also cause thera to join their prayers and addresses with his in the performance ofthat holy duty. On the other hand, that parent or master, who despises and neglects the aforeraentioned duties, bids God depart frora hira, tells bira he desires not the knowledge of his ways, and contrary to the resolution of good Joshua, declares by facts which are stronger than words, that he and his house will not serve the Lord. It is here necessary to put every Christian in mind, that, merely to repeat a form of prayer in the church or in a fa mily, is not to perform the duty of prayer, which is the work. of the understanding and the heart. A form is of no other use than to furnish us with proper thoughts for our devotions; and the repeating it in the hearing of others, is only in order that all who are present may join in the sarae thoughts. He therefore, who in any congregation, either public or private, suffers his thoughts to wander from the service, is not at prayer, but is mocking God, while nothing but his knees or lips are eraployed in the outward formality of praying. Would any one thus ad dress an earthly king? If a raan thinks it his duty to pray, let him consider whom he is going to pray to, and with all the love and reverence, all the warmth and affection of his heart let him kneel down in God's presence, and pour out the earnest devotions of a soul, deeply sorrowful for its sins, sincerely sensible ofits dependance on God, heartily thank ful for its great mercies, and full of awe and reverence for a Being so infinitely glorious and majestic. FORM OF PRAYER FAMILIES. O God, the Father of heaven, have mercy upon us thy family, and, for Christ Jesus' sake, hear the prayers we are about to offer up to thee. Amen. O God the Son, Redeeraer of the world, have raercy on us whom thou hast purchased with thy blood, and recom mend these our prayers to thy Father, Araen. 0 God the Holy Ghost, proceeding from the Father and the Son, have mercy upon us, wbo can do no good work without thy assistance, and enable us to present on this oc casion, a devout and reasonable service. Amen. O holy, blessed, and glorious Trinity, three persons, and one God, pity the many infirmities of thy servants, and have mercy upon us miserable sinners. Araen. A general confession. Most just and merciful God, we with sharae confess, and with grief and fear bewail, the provoking sins, which we have coramitted by thought, word, and deed, against thee, against our neighbour, and ourselves. Unmindful of the covenant which we made with thee in our baptisra ; we have often basely revolted to thy enemies, treated with indiffer ence and neglect the articles of our faith, and broken thy commandments. Thus self-condemned, and raiserable debt ors to thy justice, we fly for refuge to thy fatheriy bowels, and the merits of Christ Jesus. O Father of heaven, pity those whom thou hast made- O Saviour of the world, pity those whom thou hast died for, plead for us and save us, for in thee only do we trust. Amen. 2e2 420 A FORM OF PRAYER A general petition. Blessed God, ever ready to give and to relieve, stir up in our souls a voluntary and sincere repentance ; quicken it with sharae and love, and secure it against all future trials with fear and watchfulness, proportionable to our danger. Arra us, O Lord, against those spiritual eneraies, our deceit ful passions and desires, and our sinful habits frora within, and against the world and the devil frora without. Aid us with thy Holy Spirit, that. by the powerful assistance ofhis grace, we may both believe and do according fco our bap tisraal covenant and vow, tbat we raay diligently read the Scriptures, deeply reverence thy narae, devoutly keep thy sabbaths, and attend thy table. Turn away frora us those judgraents, which, on account of our raanifold sins, we justly deserve to suffer, and teach us to bear with patience and re signation those corrections which our araendraent may re quire. Be pleased to feed us with food convenient for us, and so to direct even our worldly concerns, that they may contribute to the salvation of our souls, and the glory of thy name, through Christ Jesus the Redeemer and Advocate of mankind. Amen. A collect for the mormng. O Lord, who hast shewn us the light of a new day, be graciously pleased to teach us the right use of it, that we raay apply it to the great ends of life, thy service and the general good ; and by thy Holy Spirit, so enable us to dis charge every duty, to overcome every teraptation, and to escape every danger, that we may redeera the time we have raispent, and endeavour, with more speed and vigour, to run the glorious and important race fchat is set before us, through Jesus Christ, thy Son and our Saviour. Amen. A collect for the night. O MERCIFUL Lord, wbo hast created the darkness for rest, as well as formed the light for labour, grant that we may go to rest this night in peace with thee, with mankind, and with our own consciences. And that no adversary may disturb this our happy repose, nor evil corae nigh this dwelling, be pleased to watch over us, and place thy guard FOR FAMILIES. 421 round us this night. Let our sleep put us in raind of death, and our beds of the grave, that we raay so lay ourselves down, as if we expected to rise before thy judgment-seat in another worid. Grant fchis, O Lord, for fche sake of Jesus Christ, our Saviour. Araen.The intercession. O God, who art now the witness, and wilt hereafter be the judge of all we think or do, teach this thy faraily to know and obey thy laws. Araen. Grant that all parents raay bring up their children in the fear and knowledge of thee. Amen. Grant that all children raay love, honour, and obey their parents. Araen. Grant that all rulers raay consider themselves as thy rai nisters, accountable to thee for the exercise of their autho rity. Amen. Grant that all subjects, considering whose authority their governors bear, may cheerfully obey thera, not only for wrath, but conscience sake. Araen. Grant that all masters raay give unto their servants that which is just and equal, and teach them to know thee and thy holy religion. Araen. Grant that all servants raay be faithful and obedient to their raasters, with good will doing service, as to the Lord, and not to raen. Araen. Grant that all husbands raay love and cherish their wives, and even treat them as their own flesh. Araen. Grant that all wives may be faithful, araiable, and obe dient to their husbands. Araen. Grant that the rich raaybe faithful stewards- to thee, and tender-hearted providers for thy poor. Amen. Grant to the poor honesty, industry, frugality, and con tentment. Araen. Grant that thy ministers and pastors, aided by thy Holy Spirit, may take heed unto theraselves, and to thy flock, and with good exaraples, sound doctrines, and diligence in the ministry, feed the church of Christ, which he hath pur chased with his own blood. Amen. Grant that all the people may duly reverence thy rainis- 422 A FORM OF PRAYER ters, and in all respects treat them as thy messengers, and as those who watch for tbeir souls. Amen. Grant comfort to all who are in trouble, and to those who are in sickness (particularly to him (or her) in this family, on whora thou hast laid thine hand) thy saving health. Araen. Grant, O Lord, that charity, teraperance, chastity, and justice, raay reign araong men ; and banish from the world all pride, wrath, raurder, intemperance, stealing, calumny, and covetousness ; so that the troubled affairs of this life being reduced to perfect peace and order, thy all-seeing eyes may again be pleased to survey every thing thou hast made, and to pronounce them very good. Grant, O raerciful God, to us and all raen these blessed fruits of thy gospel, for the sake of Christ Jesus, the Saviour and Reformer ofthe world. Amen. Here raay follow the prayer in time of preparation for the holy sacraraent, or the other, that is to be used for some time after the comraunion. A prayer for the whole church of Christ. Look down, gracious God, with corapassion on that church, wbich thou hast planted araong raen with the blood and la bours of thy Son, and all the prophets, apostles, and martyrs. Restore truth to those who are in error, and give knowledge to the ignorant. Kindle in the lukewarra a lively zeal, and in the contentious, raoderate that zeal with charity and know ledge. So heal our wide breaches, and settle our unquiet spirits, that all uniting with one heart, as well as in one faith, raay join to advance the glorious cause of truth and virtue, the cause of thy honour and our salvation, through Jesus Christ, the head of the church and our Redeemer. Araen. A prayer for our country. O MOST raighty God, ruler of heaven and earth, and King of kings, be graciously pleased to bless and direct his ma jesty king George, and grant him, and all who are put in authority under hira, grace to rule with justice and pru dence, and to set a shining example of piety and virtue to FOR FAMILIES. 423 thy people. Unite the divided minds and interests of our countrymen. Defend us frora seditions at horae, and from the designs of our enemies abroad. Defend us from pesti lence and faraine. Let not our crying sins provoke thee to punish us with public calaraities. Be rather graciously pleased to reform than to desfcroy. Be thou our sfcrengfch, and our protecfcor. Be fchou our God aud king, for Christ Jesus' sake. Araen. A general thanksgiving. 0 MOST compassionate God, how shall we sufficiently praise thee for thy great and continual mercies? Thou hast given us being, thou hast redeemed us wifch fchy blood from efcernal raisery, and fchou art ever presentwith us to strengthen us against the difficult, and to guide us through the dan gerous trials of life. How wonderful are the instances of thy goodness, which we know ! How infinite those which we can but iraperfectly coraprehend ! Not all the accusa tions of our enemy, nor our raanifold offences have yet turned away thy corapassion from us. Let this, O Lord, inspire us with grafcifcude, and fill us wifch such a love of thee, that for the future all our thoughts and actions, as well as words, may praise thee. In the meantirae, we tby family render thee, O infinite Benefactor, such thanks as we are able. With all good men on earth, with saints, and angels, and all the hosts of heaven, we join our hearts to adore thee in thy wisdora and goodness, and raise our voices to raagnify thy majesty and povver. Blessed be thou, 0 Lord God, who hasfc done won drous things for us, and blessed be the name of thy majesty for ever : let all the earth be filled with thy niajesty. Araen, Amen. Our Father, which art, 8cc. The benediction. Unto thy gracious raercy and protection, O God, we com mit ourselves. Be thou pleased to bless us, and keep us, make thy face to shine upon us, and be gracious unto us, now and for evermore. Amen. 424 A FORM OF PRAYER A prayer io be used in time of preparation for the holy sacrament. Blessed Father, who in corapassion to our great infirmi ties and spiritual wants, hast provided food for our souls, even the body and blood of thy Son, grant when we ap proach thy holy table, we naay by faith spiritually feed on that heavenly banquet. That we may appear there aa thy children and servants, raise and confirra in us such dis positions, as becorae those who enter into fellowship with thee, and all that is good in heaven and in earth. Cause the remembrance of our Saviour's goodness in dying to atone for our sins, to fill us with an utter abhorrence of all sin, and a firm resolution to glorify hira for the time to come, by a life agreeable to his holy will and word, and conformable to our baptisraal vow. Cause tbe reraembrance of his having laid down his life for us, and the consideration of his sitting at thy right hand to plead for us, to possess our souls with an hurable, but cheerful faith and trust in thy raercy. Cause the love due to Christ, the head of the church, to extend to all our fellow Christians, the raembers of his raystical body. Send thy Holy Spirit powerfully into our hearts, that he may purify all our unclean affections, rectify all our evil habits, and so regenerate our whole na ture, that weonay be everraore adraitted to feed eflTectually on the food of everlasting life, and enabled so to unite our selves to Christ's blessed body, that being raade lively mem bers of him, we may hereafter be entirely governed by his will and Spirit, and not by our own carnal wills, which we renounce. Grant this, O blessed Father, for Christ Jesus' sake. Araen. A prayer to be used for some time after the communion, O MOST gracious and bountiful Lord, who hast lately fed us thy servants with thy ovvn precious flesh and blood, neither suffer the reraerabrance of that astonishing act of mercy to shp oufc of our minds, nor fche saving effects of it to be destroyed by the return of our former temptations and sins. Set a strict guard upon onr hearts, that in all our thoughts we may look back upon the awful vow we have renewed, and the infinite favour vve have received, that we FOR FAMILIES. 425 raay neither make any ungrateful retums for the one, nor any faithless breaches of the other ; but that being refreshed and nourished by the heavenly food, we may proceed from strengfch to strength, till after a life spent here in thy ser vice, and to thy glory, we may rise and triumph with thee in the blessed habitations of eternal peace. Grant this, and ever powerfully intercede for uS, O blessed Jesus, our Re deeraer. Araen. It may perhaps be useful to the reader to put him in mind, that the performance of both public and family prayer doth by no raeans take away the necessity of addressing hiraself to God in secret at least twice in the day. No forra of prayer used in coraraon with others, can possibly reach the peculiar and secret occasions of any particular raan ; besides, every individual ought to serve God as an indivi dual, as well as every kingdora or faraily, for he hath his own peculiar sins to confess, his own wants to petition for, and his ovvn blessings, which no one shares with him, to return thanks for ; and is therefore under the most indis pensable necessity (although he constantly applies to God in public, as a raeraber of sorae coraraunity or faraily) of also serving God in secret, as a single man. Six tiraes in the day did the priraitive Christians address theraselves to God by prayer, and although the piety and devotion of Christians is now at a low ebb, yet we have the same rea sons they had for frequency and fervency in prayer ; nay, perhaps, we have even greater and stronger reasons than they, inasrauch as we live under the unhappy influence of worse examples and customs, and are surrounded with more dangerous teraptations. A prayer for a young person. The eneray of my soul, O my God, hath planted innume rable snares for rae in ray fortune, in ray corapanions, in my person, and in ray very heart. How shall I escape ! As I wade farther into life, I do but plunge deeper into trials. How shall I, so full of frailty and folly, support or direct myself? Bear rae up, O God ray strength. Guide me, O infinite wisdom. O blessed Spirit, enter thou into my soul, before it becomes too vile, and too polluted for thy resi dence ; there enhghten my understanding ; there rule with 426 A FORM OF PRAYER a strict hand over all my passions and desires, particularly those of pride and incontinence, and so powerfully subdue me to thy will, that the necessity of a woful, and the danger of an ineffectual repentance raay be prevented, through Jesus Christ ray Saviour. Araen. A prayer for an aged person. O King of heaven, and judge of all the world, I who ara now drawing towards the close of a long life, and must shortly appear before thee, am utterly unable to account for the time I have raispent, for the health and wealth I have abused, or the other trusts and talents I have neglected or raisapplied. When I remeraber thy infinite corapassion to ray poor soul, and frail body, pouring in upon me through my affairs, ray faraily, and every person or thing, that had any relation to rae, by unnumbered blessings, and by sea sonable and tender corrections ; and when I corapare it with my manifold and heinous offences; I know not which to be most astonished at, thy goodness, or my ingratitude. What gives me still farther cause of concern and apprehen sion, is, that I find myself under the unhappy slavery of many bad dispositions and habits, contracted during my long stay in this filthy body, and this seducing world. Al though I have fully experienced the vanity and vexation of this life, I am nevertheless unwilling to part with it. I ara both unable to live, and afraid to die. 0 bound less goodness, look with mercy on me in this ray distress. As it was with a kind intention to reclaira and save my soul, that thy long-suffering goodness prolonged ray life to thes6 years, so 1 trust thou wilt have mercy upon me, and shew thyself gracious to rae at the last. To this blessed. end be pleased, O thou lover of souls, by thy Holy Spirit, to pluck out of my heart every root of sin, to cleanse my impure and worldly affections, to knit thera to thee by fche eternal ties- of love, to support rae under the decays of nature, to fortify rae against the approaches of death, to strengthen my faith, and comfort ray soul when thy last awful suramons shall arrive, that I thy poor servant, loathing this wretched life, with all its vanities, and eagerly turning all my desires and wishes towards thee, raay meet thee wifch joy in fche blessed regions of eternal peace. Grant this, O our tender FOR FAMILIES. 427 and indulgent Father, for the sake of Christ Jesus, my only advocate and Saviour. Amen. A prayer for one under apprehensions ahout his soul, or in religious melancholy. To thee, O heavenly King, the only comfort of souls, op pressed with troubles like mine, I fly for relief and suc cour. O let me find refuge under thy healing wings, from the guilt and fear that pursue my soul. All thy waves and storras have gone over me, and the fear of thee hath almost undone me. When I look back at my past life, I can see nothing but sin and folly. When I examine ray own heart, I find all gloomy within. When I look forward at death and eternity, I behold a prospect unutterably shocking. Pity me, O my God ; let my raisery raove thee to compas sion ; let my prayer enter into thy presence ; let ray cry come up before thee. Who can bear a wounded spirit ? O despise not my broken spirit, nor my contrite heart. O forsake me not, lest I perish. O ray God, go not far from me, lest the enemy of thy glory, and ray poor afflicted soul, should tear me to pieces, when there is none to deliver rae. Suffer rae not, thou inexhaustible fountain of all mercy, to fall into distraction or despair ; but say unto ray soul, I am thy salvation. Give sorae light in the raidst of this ray darkness, and pour sorae hope into my bitter cup, for the multitude of my sorrows have overwhelmed me, and are like a sore burden, too heavy for me to bear. Sustain ray soul, O my God, with the patience shewn by Job, when the ad versary was let loose against hira, with the repentance and piety of David when he bewailed his sins, and above all, with the resignation and meekness of thy beloved Son, when thy displeasure at the sins of the whole world lay upon him, and he sweated blood for our offences. Corafort, 0 my God, and refresh the soul of thy servant, tossed in a storra of guilt and terror, and sinking, if thou save not, in utter despair. So shall my soul raagnify the raysteries of thy goodness with a transport of joy and love, as great as my present raiseries. Grant this, O God, whose mercy en dureth for ever, for Christ Jesus' sake. Amen. 428 A FORM OF PRAVER A prayer for a rich man, or one who is prosperous in his worldly affairs. O BOUNTIFUL Lord, I thank and praise thee for the pros perity, with which thou art pleased to bless me. Cause me to know that the plenty which I ara surrounded with, is not the effect of ray prudence or care, but of thy fatherly goodness to rae, and ought therefore to be received with a sincere sense of gratitude. As it is thy free gift, and not the reward of any desert in rae, suffer rae not to be lifted up ; bufc preserve rae sfcill raeek and hurable in the raidst of all my worldly abundance. Let not my riches become a snare to my soul, lest by pride or avarice, or interaperance, I should be rendered incapable of entering by the strait gate into eternal life. I know, blessed Lord, that I am but the steward of this wealth, improperly called mine. 0 cause me thankfully to consider how highly thou hast ho noured rae by so great a trust, and to have always before my eyes the important duty I ara charged with, that in the great day of accounts fchy church, my country, my family, and the poor may witness for me that I was no unfaithful steward. If fchou send not thy grace along with these gifts, they will, contrary to thy fatherly intention, turn to so many curses and judgraents on me. Have raercy upon me therefore, O ray heavenly Master, and suffer rae nofc either to wrap up in a napkin these talents, coramitted to my charge, nor to trade on them for thy eneray, and ray own. Grant this, gracious Lord, for Christ Jesus' sake. Araen. A prayer for a poor man, or one who by losses is declining in his circumstances. Thou hast given, and thou hast taken away, blessed be thy narae, O ray God. Suffer rae not to repine at thy dis posing of tby own, as seemeth best to thy unerring wisdom. What I had, thou gavest me, and I am sensible it is by my folly, or for my sins, that I ara now deprived of it. Nay, when I consider, how ill I ara qualified tb be thy steward, and how inclinable to make a bad use of riches, I cannot but acknowledge thy justice, and adraire thy raercy in con fining me to narrow circumstances. 1 have even now raore, than I shall be able to give a good account of to thee ; and FOR FAMILIES. 429 greater wealth would be but a snare and burden to rae. Yet I confess, O my God, that ray foolish heart still hankers after the world, although I have renounced it, with all its pomps and vanities, in my baptism. Break this cord, O my God, that ties rae down to vain and vexatious things here below, tbat ray affections raay rise, and fix theraselves on thee, and the better things above. Make rae every way moderate in ray desires and expenses, and so bless ray honest labours, tbat I raay have wherewithal to supply the necessi ties of rayself, and those who depend on me. Let it not displease thee, that I pray to thee for daily bread ; and if for the araendraent of thy poor servant, thou shalt deny rae this, O teach rae patience and resignation, and the grace to say with sincerity. Thy will be done. O sanctify ray dis tresses to me, that I raay share the portion of Lazarus here after, as well as here, for Christ Jesus' sake. Araen. For a blessing on the means, made use of for the recovery of health. 0 BLESSED Lord, who hath provided raedicines forthe cure of our disorders, as well as food for our ordinary suste nance; we know, nevertheless, that it is neither by natural nor human raeans alone that man liveth, but by thy word. We do therefore, humbly trusting in thy fatherly providence, mosfc earnesfcly beseech fchee to direct all those, who attend this thy afflicted servant, to such means and raedicines as may contribute effectually to the recovery of his health. Grant this, O most corapassionate God, if it be thy blessed will, for the sake of Christ Jesus our Saviour. Araen. When there appears some hope of recovery. Blessed be thy raercy, O thou preserver of raen, who hast already somewhat lightened the disorder of this thy servant, and blessed be thy holy narae for the corafortable hope of his recovery, which thou hast afforded to him and us all. O perfect this thy corapassion, if it please thy in finite goodness, in tbe re-establishraent of his forraer sound ness, both of raind and body. So sanctify to hira, as well thy dehverance, as correction, that he may fear to offend hereafter, lest a worse thing come unto him. Cause him gratefully to dedicate his life to thy service, if thou shalt be 430 A FORM OF PRAYER pleased a second time to bestow it on him. Grant this, 0 Father of mercies, we beseech thee, for the sake of Christ Jesus, thy Son, and our Saviour. Araen. For a person whose sickness is tedious. Blessed Lord, who knowest that we are but dust, pity, we beseech thee, this thy servant, who hath long groaned under the weight of thy chastising hand. Teach hira patience and resignation to thy will by serious reflections on thy long-suffering goodness to him during his provoking perse verance in sin, and by a sincere acknowledgment, that this bis affliction, though tedious and grievous, is but a small part of that punishment, which is justly due to his offences. But, that the united load, both of his viieness and thy dis pleasure, may not overwhelra and force hira from the anchor of his salvation, O cause him to remeraber, in every moment of his trial, that thou art full of corapassion, that thou afflictest only to save, and that, as once for thy well-beloved Son, so now for hira, thou art preparing a way through tribulation to glory, infinite and endless, in thy presence, where there is fulness of joy for the true penitent, forthe patient sufferer, and for the son who bears, as he ought to do, the rebukes of his heavenly Father, Comfort him, 0 Lord, in this his decay of strength and resolution. Cause the light of thy countenance to shine upon hira through this long night of pain and fear. Sweeten, O gracious Jesus, sweeten, we beseech thee, by the consolations of thy Holy Spirit, to thy poor disciple, this cup, so exceedingly bitter, and so like thy own. Reraeraber, O raost corapassionate Redeeraer, him whora thou hast purchased with thine in estimable blood, and let nothing be wanting that thou seest necessary to the broken heart and wounded spirit of a ser vant, casting up his raournful eyes to thee, his only hope. Araen. A prayer for one who hath been a grievous sinner. O God of all raercy, this thy poor transgressing creature acknowledges hiraself to be a worm, a monster, and no man, and to have deserved nothing at thy hand, but to be aban doned henceforth to a reprobate mind, and to everlasting shame and misery, for the innumerable, the horrible crime* FOR FAMILIE.S. 43l of a life, spent alraost wholly in the service of thy eneray ; for his having obstinately sinned against the continual ad raonitions of thy Spirit, tbe sharpness of thy corrections, the dread of thy judgments, the sweetness of thy indul gences, the clear convictions and the loud clamours of his own conscience. In this deplorable condition, loaded with guilt, and hardened in sin, he flies to thee, against whom he hath committed all his offences, nofc only for mercy, but even for succour against hiraself. O Lord, reraeraber of what he is raade; reraeraber the violence and subtlety of those temptations, wherewith he hath been assaulted; re member his great inability to resist thera ; reineraber thy long-suffering patience, already shewn to hira, rather than his gross abuse of that patience ; in thy infinite raercy re member rather his weakness, than the heinousness of his crimes. O Son of God, the Redeeraer of sinners, give not up his cause, for whora thou hast died ; but powerfully plead for hira, that he raay obtain assistance and mercy. O blessed Comforter, effectually succour him, whom thou hast so often succoured', lest all thy past assistances, and his poor soul, should perish together. O Father of mercies, whose mercy is over all thy works ; O unbounded goodness and patience, for thy tender mercy's sake ; for Chrisfc Jesus' sake, have mercy even yet on this offspring of earth and ashes, this work of thy own gracious hands, this soul, for which thy Son hath died. Have mercy on hira, O Lord, and create hira anew. Give him that deep and sincere repentance for all his past offences, which thy covenant of peace requires. This forfcify wifch every grace necessary to firmness in so . weak a mind. But lest his soul should sink into despair through a just sense of criraes, so nearly approaching to un pardonable, O bear hira up with a lively faifch in fchy mercy, through the all-sufflcient raerits of Chrisfc Jesus, his advo- cafce and Saviour. Araen. A form of thanksgiving which may be used by him who hath been restored to health after a grievous and dangerous disorder. 0 MOST gracious God, for fchy corrections, which have roused rae, I bless thee ; for thy dehverances, which have eased ray troubled heart, I bless thee. That thou still re- gardest me as thy child, I yet feel by thy late afflictions. 432 A FORM OF PRAVER and comfortably hope, as 1 did nofc in the least despise thy chastisements, nor wholly faint when I was rebuked of thee, that I ara thy child, though very unworthy. If I am not an outcast frora thy providence, it is entirely owing to thy long-suffering patience, and the grace of thy Holy Spirit. And now, raost corapassionate Lord, trerabling, lest 1 should again abuse thy goodness, in a sense of ray own weakness alraost equal to ray dread of death under thy rod, 1 most earnestly beseech thee, never to leave me for a moment hereafter to my weak and unguarded self, nor to this seduc ing world. Afflict rae again, O ray Father, rather than suffer rae to go astray frora thee any raore, O thou preserver of souls. Hold thy hand continually over rae. Keep rae ever mindful of thy terrors, and thy mercies, thafc I may fear to offend thee, and frora the depths of ray heart gratefully love thee. When I corapare thy mercies with my sins, I am overwhelmed with wonder at thy goodness and ray own in gratitude. O now, gracious God, give the victory to love, and cause it to raortify in rae all that is, unworthy of such un bounded raercy. O cleanse thou ray heart, ray God, and fill it with the love of thee. Crown all thy other raercies with this, for, without it, thou knowest, they will turn to judgraents on ray guilty head. Accept, O fountain of pity, the loud thanksgivings of my heart, as thou didst the cries of ray late distress. Accept ray vows, wherewith I now soleranly bind my soul to its utraost endeavours after a life more acceptable in tby sight. Plead for me, 0 blessed Jesus, that I raay obtain strength. Succour rae, 0 Comforter of souls, that I raay not relapse into sin. O Father of mer cies, shew thyself still a Father to rae, for the sake of Christ Jesus, thy Son and ray Saviour. Araen. Scriptural ejaculations, is to be used by persons in sickness, or other afflictions, wherein the troubled soul represents its frail ties and miseries, and implores the divine pity and assistance, 1 ACKNOWLEDGE ray faults, and my sin is ever before me. Against thee only, O Lord, have I sinned, and done this €vil in thy sight. Behold, I was shapen in wickedness, and in sin hath my another conceived me. FOR FAMILIES. 433 My wickednesses are gone over my head, and are like a sore burden, too heavy for me to bear. There is no health in my flesh, because of thy displea sure, neither is there any rest in my bones by reason of my sin. I am feeble, and sore sraifcfcen. I have roared for the very disquietness of my heart. My heart panteth, ray strength hath failed me, and the sight of raine eyes is gone frora rae. My spirit is vexed within rae, and ray heart within rae is desolate. My days are consuraed away like smoke ; my heart is smitten down, and withered like grass. Turn thee, O Lord, and deliver my soul ; O save me for thy mercy's sake. Hide not thy face from rae in the time of trouble. In chne thine ears to me when I call. O hear rae, and that right soon. 0 Lord rebuke me not in thine indignation ; neither chasten rae in thy heavy displeasure. Correct me, but with judgment, not in thine anger, lest thou bring me to nothing. Have raercy upon me, O Lord, for I ara weak. My soul also is sore troubled ; but. Lord, how long wilt thou punish rae ? Have mercy upon rae, O God, after thy great goodness ; according to the raultitude of thy raercies do away raine offences. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse rae frora ray sin. Turn thy face from my sins, and put out all ray rais- deeds. Make rae a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from fchy presence, and take nofc thy Holy Spirit frora rae. O give me tbe comfort of thy help again, and stablish rae with thy free spirit. Hear my prayer, O Lord, and consider my desire. Hearken unto rae for thy truth and thy righteousness' sake. VOL. III. 2 F 434 A FORM OF PRAYER Enter not into judgment with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified. Thy sacrifice is a troubled spirit. A broken and a con trite heart, O God, shalt thou not despise. Lord, thou knowest all my desire, and my groaning is not hid from thee, I stretch forth my hands unto thee. My soul panteth unto thee, as a thirsty land. Hear me, O Lord, and that soon, for ray spirit waxeth faint. Hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto thera that go down into the pit. In death no man remembereth thee ; and who will give thee thanks in the pit ? Haste thee to help me, O Lord God of ray salvation. In thee, O Lord, have 1 put my trust. Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord my God. For thou art a place to hide me in. Thou shalt preserve me from trouble. Thou shalt corapass me about with songs of deliverance. Into thy hands I commend my spirit, for thou hast re deemed me, O Lord, thou God of truth. A general prayer to be used with andfor the sick, particularly such as are not well instructed in the principles of our holy religion. O most just and merciful God, a God of vengeance only to such as continue in sin ; but of infinite pity and tender ness to all those, who turn from their sins in a deep and sincere repentance to thee ; look down with raercy, we be seech thee, on this tby afflicted servant, whose body is loaded with sickness, and his soul with trouble. Lay not, gracious Lord, the burden on him more heavily than he is able to bear. Whilst thou art pleased to chastise with thy rod, support him at the same time with the staff of thy cpn- solations. Be not extreme to mark what is done amiss, for who may abide it? Enter not into judgment with thy servant, who is but earth and ashes ; with the offspring of dust ; with the work of thy own gracious hands. Suffer not the angels of darkness to triumph in his FOR FAMILIES. 435 destruction ; but rafcher give joy to those of light in the con version and salvation of this sinner. As we trust, he repents him truly of all his former sins, and by a lively faifch fchrows himself enfcirely on fchy mercy and fche merits ofhis Redeemer, so we hope, he shews himself to be even yet thy child ; O shew thyself to be his Father in raercifully accepting his re pentance, and forgiving his sins. O blessed Jesus, the anchor of our hope, and the rock of our salvation, who carae down frora heaven, took our nature on thee, and suffered po verty, persecution, and at length the raiserable death of a slave, for our rederaption ; arise and raaintain thy right to this soul, for which thou hast laid down the price of thy own precious blood ; wash it in that blood from guilt ; cause thy intercessions to be heard above fche accusafcions of ifcs eneray, and fcurn away the just displeasure of thy Father from it. O blessed Spirit, the light of those who are in darkness, and the strength of the weak, come speedily, we beseech thee, to the assistance ofthis soul in its great distress and weakness. Give him unfeigned repentance for all the sins and errors of his hfe. Confirra his faith ; and so sanctify this correction to hira, that, joined with his tears, and the blood of Christ, it may help to purify his unclean affections, to rectify his sinful habits, and regenerate his whole nature. If, most gracious God, thou shalt be pleased to prolong bis life (which, in corapassion to the unprepared state of his soul, and to the fears of his faraily, we humbly beseech thee to grant) granfc also, for thy tender mercy's sake, that he raay dedicate it entirely to thy service, and glory ; or if it should be thy will to remove him hence by this disorder, be gra ciously pleased to wean his affections from all the persons and things ofthis vain worid, to fix them wholly on thyself, and to corafort hira, in his last conflict, with well-grounded hopes of peace at fche lasfc ; on which awful occasion, blessed Spirit, raightily corafort and support him under a deep sense of>is own unworthiness; blessed Jesus, powerfully urge the raerits of thy sufferings for hira. Blessed Father, pity thou the extrerae anxieties and fears of thy creature, honour thou the raerits and intercessions of thy Son, and for his sake, turn thy face with a gracious srade to him, and speak peace to him; so shall his transported soul lift 2i ^ lO 436 A FORM OF PRAYER, &C. up a glad voice, and with a song of infinite joy, of gratitude, and love, magnify thee araong thy blessed angels, to all eternity. This, O most gracious God, we most hurably and earnestly beseech thee to grant, not for our sakes, who are utterly unworthy to be heard for ourselves, but for the sake of Christ Jesus, thy Son, and our Saviour. Araen. SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE SUBJECT OP PREDESTINATION. SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE SUBJECT OF PREDESTINATION. A READER of Paradise Lost, if versed in divinity, must perceive, that Milton was not less a divine, than a poet. This is every where apparent throughout that raost exalted work of genius, and sacred erudition ; but I think, notraore remarkably in any part of it, than where he introduces a group of speculative devils in the infernal regions, reason ing deep, and bewildering themselves on the subjects of fate, freewill, &c. They, saith the poet. Sat apart, and reason'd high On Providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate. Freewill, fix'd fate, foreknowledge, absolute. And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. He then represents these evil spirits as proceeding, frora these naturally raysterious subjects, to reason on the nature of good and evil, as if beings, so lately in heaven, and now in hell, could not sufficiently feel the distinction, but raust make these also the subjects of refineraent. This is no panegyric on the labours of fchose too inqui sitive divines, who bave stirred up a nuraber of endless, and even shocking disputes, on topics, fitter by far for the ex ercise of so raany raetaphysical fiends. For ray own part, ever since I arrived at any tolerable knowledge ofthe Scrip tures, and of huraan nature, I have wondered how it came to pass, that so great a nuraber of raen, raany of thera too seeraingly of some abihties, should have so miserably lost their way, and indeed I think, their very understandings, on the topics of predestination and freewill. Surely these topics, so far as they lie open to the human capacity, are as 440 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. intelligible as any other whatsoever ; and so far as they are incoraprehensible, every mortal of common sense and mo desty raust perceive it. It is true one raan can penetrate farther into an abstruse subject than another; bufc fchere are certain subjects, fco fche bottora of which, it is quickly per ceived, no huraan penetration can dive. Predestination and freewill are evidently araong these. That God, or man, should predetermine, and freely choose, in certain cases, we clearly conceive, and perfectly well know. But how, or by what internal powers, it is, that raan does this, or God does that, no raan, and I will venture to say, no finite being, can possibly conceive. If frora this irapossibility of conception, another equally great should arise, naraely, how to accounfc for fche consis tency of the divine foreknowledge, whereon the predestina tion depends, and from whence it must, in the order of our ideas, necessarily result ; with the human freedom of will, in regard to the sarae event, are we to be surprised ? No. In other branches of knowledge, we soon find the shortness of our line, and stop contented, when we have once stretched it to its full length. How is it then, tbat, in relation to God, and divine things, that is, in relation to points, uni versally confessed to be incoraprehensible, we never find the end of our line, as is evident by our never finding the end of our refineraents ? No raan atterapts to fathora the sea, nor touch the raoon, vvith his finger. Infinitely shorter still is his understanding in regard to the attributes of wis dom and power in God, and of freedora and volition in him self, and to the exercise of the one, as well as the other, in particular acts, especially when God and the huraan will in terfere. Who can tell, for instance, how God, with certainty foresees that action ofa man, which tbat raan is perfectly free to do, or abstain frora, as he pleases ? And again, who can tell, bow a raan acts freely under the influence ofa pre- pollent raotive? He deifies hiraself, who atterapts either ; for none but God can coraprehend God; and none but God can raake a raan, or consequently, so understand the nature of a man, as to want nothing but the power, to make a man. There is a difference (indeed it is but a sraall one) between the capacities of different raen, not idiots, whereon vanity, content with narrow grounds to build on, rather than not REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 441 build at all, may erect ifcs inch of superiorifcy over a head more grovelling. These may go differenfc lengfchs in small and easy articles of knowledge, but find a number of higher and more inaccessible truths, at which they are both obhged to stop short, and assent, or dissent without a possibility of .saying, why, without a possibility, I raean, in either, to as sign a reason frora the real nature of the thing. One man too can leap a little farther or higher, than another ; but if they corae to a wall of forty feet in height, or to a river of a hundred feet in breadth, they are equally unable to pass beyond. There is no greater blockhead than he, who hav ing arrived at the years of discretion, hath not found the extent, or rather shortness of his own understanding. Nor is there in tbe world so despicable a class of reptiles, as they, who, finding it exfcreraely difficulfc fco creep over a molehill, are for flying over a mountain. The acquisifcion of knowledge hafch not been so unhappily retarded, nor so miserably pestered, with any kind of vermin, as with thafc race of lifcerary prigs, who sefc up fco dictate on subjects they do not understand, and even to dictate farther, than raen of ten tiraes their capacity, can possibly understand. How irapudent ! How petulant ! Yet how pitiful and ridiculous in the eye of sounder reason ! Ofall subjects, the raysteries ofreligion (that petulance may swell itself into impiety) are the raost apt to be singled out for the speculations of these goodly refiners. The dwarf must pull the fruit that bangs too high for the giant to reach. One silly mortal sits down to explain an account for a religious mystery. Another attempts to shew its ab- surdifcy. Vanity is equally the motive, and futility the suc cess, of both. Other success had been impossible, suppos ing their talents of the first magnitude. The truth is, no man of great abilities could ever have busied hiraself on either side, because a raan of great abihties raust quickly have seen, that the subject was above hira. It is from the littie divines only, that we have the huge volumes on rays tical theology, one setting up an absurdity, and another pulling ifc down, and a new bone of confcention every now and then thrown in frora heads, barren of every thing but trash, till the shelf bends with accuraulated folios, wherein the real mystery under debate, is no way concerned, nor in- 442 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. deed the combatants, considered as either Christians or di vines. They fight for a victory only, not an article of reli gion, though that is always the pretence. To put an end to this irapious trifling, if possible, and to satisfy the tender, but modest inquirer (many such there are) who is apt to lose hiraself on the subjects of foreknowledge and predestination in God, of raoral freedom in man, and of the interfering between that foreknowledge and this free dom ; give me leave, reader, to state the right ideas of that foreknowledge, predestination, and freedom ; then to prove the reality of each ; and lastly, so to touch on the interfer ence, as to shew how far it may be reconciled to human conception, and how far it ought to be acquiesced in as a mystery, on the sarae footing with those natural raysteries, which we do, and must acquies,ce in, every moment of our lives. In the first place, the foreknowledge of God is absolute, perfect, certain. It is not, in any the smallest degree, pre carious, which it must be, if it is at all conditional, or hypo thetical. He foresees or foreknows, what we call accidents, and the free elections of all intelligent creatures, not be cause he knows the effects of all causes, and the natural dis positions of all rational beings, which undoubtedly he does, but because he hath in himself a faculty, power, or attri bute, to which all things, past, present, or future, as they are called in the language of creatures, are ever open and apparent. As the eye of raan perceives a large and visible object, placed directiy before it, and in a strong and clear light, so, but with an infinitely higher perfection, does the eye of God perceive, the future, if I may so call it, as well as the past and present. To him nothing is, properly speak ing, past, or future. All is present. But, to speak as men must speak, he knew every thing perfectiy and certainly, from all eternity, and will know to all eternity. He knew for instance, from the beginning, not only, that if John will be good, he must be happy, but knew certainly, that John should exist, and whether he should be good and happy, or vricked and miserable. Thus ought we to think of the di vine prescience. And therefore, in the second place, we conclude, that he decreed or predestinated, from the beginning, the eternal REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 443 doom, whether to happiness or misery, of every moral agent. This conclusion may shock an ignorant person, who does not yet see the justice of such decrees ; but it is nevertheless unavoidable. So much I can proraise the reader, that his reason, if open to conviction, shall soon be reconciled to it. Perhaps he sees tbe necessity of it already. Whefcher he does or nofc, let hira grant it me for the present, as a point demonstrated, and so assume it, only as an axiora of mine, till I make it his too by a clear demonstration. In the third place, man is a moral agent, that is, may freely choose to do a good action or omit it ; and to do an evil action or abstain from it, as he pleases. Men, it is true, in regard to good and evil actions, are more or less free, ac cording to their natural or habitual dispositions ; but so far as they are moral, that is, accountable agents, just so far they are free ; and how far this is the case of any individual, his Judge does perfectly know. It may however, I think, be safely taken for granted, that no man is absolutely compelled to do, either a good or bad action, but acts in every thing by choice. Threaten two men with imraediate death, if they do not offer incense to an idol. One of them complies, and the other dies. He that complies, chooses idolatry, rather than death. He who refuses, makes death, rather than idolatry, his choice. Neither is forced. This I take to be a plain and incontestable truth. The foreknowledge of God, thus stated, will be easily proved. We destroy the idea of his Godhead the instant we deny his infinite perfection in any one respect. If there fore he is infinitely perfect, his knowledge raust be infinitely perfect knowledge, which it cannot possibly be, if there is any one thing, past, present, or to corae, whereof he is ig norant, or whereat he does but guess, on probable conjectures or calculations. His knowledge cannot be perfect, without absolute certainty. He must have made the universe, so far at random, as he is supposed to have made it under any un certainty about any one event. Infinite as he is in eyery re spect, his knowledge is adequate to his infinity, for it is in finite, so that he perfectly knows himself. He can sum the mathematical points of infinite space, though the plain of Saturn's orbit is not so large in comparison of the smallest pip made by a pen, as that pip is in comparison with one of 444 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. those points. He can sura the moraents of eternity, though every one of tbem is far less to tbe twinkling of an eye, than the twinkling of an eye is to a century. He foresaw the place of every atora throughout the universe, with all its changes of position. He foresaw the hnes that every ray of light was to move in, with^all their angles of reflection and refraction. He foresaw the thoughts ofall thinking beings, with every word and action, wherein fchey were, or shall be, brought forth. It is true, he knew the effect of every cause, and of every chain of causes, whether single, or concurring with, or counteracted by ofcher causes. His knowledge, though"of this sort, as of a machine, set in raotion by him self, was perfect in its kind, but could not be absolutely per fect knowledge, because there were almost an infinity of things, even in the natural world, which could not be go verned by any stated chain of causes, such I mean, as raust necessarily result from the free choice of intelligent creatures. For instance, the German monk, who invented gunpowder, had it in his choice to raake, or nofc raake, his experiments on a mixture of nitre and sulphur. Yet how hath the stated course of natural causes been interrupted or changed by this one invention, the effect of one raan's free volition ? The contrivers ofthe gunpowder- plot were free to place that combustible under the parliament -house, or not to place it, as they thought fit, and deservedly lost their lives for choosing to do it, which had surely been an effect of cruelty and injustice, if the raen had done it under the influence of corapulsory causes. Now, the Divine Being foresaw all this, or he was ignorant of soraewhat, till it was afcfcempted. But he did not foresee it in the worab of a stated cause, for it had no such cause, and therefore raust have foreseen it by that attribute in hiraself, which gives hira an absolutely perfect knowledge of all things. But farther, bad God no other sort of knowledge in regard to the actions of free agents, but what raight be drawn frora their capacities and dispositions, either his knowledge raight here fail him, or such agents could not be free. They too raust be but raa chines, if from their capacities and dispositions it could be foreseen with certainty, what every one of thera would, or rafcher rausfc do. Bufc they cannot be both moral and neces sary agents. They cannot, consistently witb any idea of jus- REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 445 tice, be rewarded, or punished, for that which they did only in necessary consequence of a nature given them by their Maker and Judge. The better to establish this idea of the divine foreknowledge we have experimental proofs in abun dance. Such are all the prophecies concerning future actions of men, soraetimes of whole nations and erapires of men, who rausfc have been free in regard fco fchose acfcions, or why advanced, or subdued, why preserved or exterrainated, by Providence, in consequence, of fcheir acfcions, so forefcold? Did God by nafcure, or how you will, necessitate Judas to be a traitor, and then punish him with despair and death, if no thing raore, for his treachery? Itis going farther than Atheism to suppose it. . Yet he foretold it a thousand years before it happened, Psal. xli. 9. By what faculty or power he did this, we cannot comprehend. We know ifc sufficiently by its effect. A farther acquaintance with it, as it is an attribute of God, is neither necessary, nor possible, no more than an acquaintance with fchat power, if another, whereby he called the universe out of nothing. The Socinians, who deny the absolute foreknowledge of God, allow him no more than a foreknowledge of cause and effect in tbe natural world, and a conditional or hypothetical foreknowledge in the moral. This is atterapting to destroy, rather fchan to degrade, the nature of God. To be consistent with theraselves on this subject, fchey raaintain, that our knowledge is the same in kind with that of God, though less in degree. They go farther. Having thus bounded and diminished the knowledge of God, they as highly exalfc fcheir own, and so lessen fche degree of difference, setting fchera selves out as of the same nature with God,as if they thought themselves soraewhat betfcer than deraigods. But 'as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are God's ways higher than their ways, and his thoughts than their thoughts.' The Divine Being did certainly foreknow frora all eternity, the thoughts, words, and actions ofall raankind. And therefore, in the next place, ' whora he did foreknow, he also did predestinate,' sorae of better rainds, .' to be con forraed' in true holiness ' to the image of his Son ;' and others, of a perverse and wicked disposition, to follow their own free attachraent to sin, and to conform themselves to the iraage of the first transgressor. All men having, by on- 446 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. ginal and actual transgression, forfeited the favour of God, he, on a perfect foresight of their voluntary good or evil dis positions, deterrained freely to aid and accept the reclaim- able, and to reprobate fche irreclaimable, so as that they should grow still harder and harder in wickedness, as in the case of Pharaoh, till they should be qualified to answer a second purpose of Providence by their obstinacy, who would not by obedience concur with his first design. If God foreknew all things, he foreknew the lives, and final fate, ofthe righteous, as well as of the wicked. St. Paul, accom modating his words to the apprehensions of men, states the predestination or decree of God, as the consequence of his foreknowledge, not that the one was, or could be posterior to the other, for both raust have been coeval, and from efcer- nifcy. They are delivered fco us as distinct, because we cannot think but by steps, nor know we how to reconcile the predestination to our ideas of God's justice, bufc by repre senting it as the effect of his foreknowledge, and the eff'ect is always set down, in the human mind, as following its cause. In the divine mind they are probably one and the sarae thing. Be this as it may, the foreknowledge and the decree were both eternal. Here now, it is a clear point, that the raoral actions of all accountable agents were, with certainty, foreknown, and their doora unalterably fixed, long before any one of thera existed. Their thoughts and actions were foreknown, and their happiness or misery therefore pre destinated. Such must, of necessity, have been the case. The final judgment therefore will be nothing else, but an open publication, to the whole intelligent world, of God's eternal decrees. Nature, reason, necessity, all dictate this doctrine, and put the truth of it beyond all possibility of doubt. So far the word of God goes to, and no farther. If the knowledge and justice of God are infinite, he must have determined with biraself the sentence fco be pronounced on every individual in fche raoral world, before fchese individuals were broughfc infco being; and why not, as well as after? He had all the knowledge beforehand, requisite for passing sentence ; and why should he not have fixed it as well before the state of trial, as after? Nay, he did assuredly fix it, for he with absolute certainty foreknew it, as well as the raerits or deraerits, whereon it was grounded. REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 447 Weare now, in the third place, to prove, that raan is a morally free agent. Is there any necessity, reader, for proving this to you? Are you not already convinced, that you are somewhat better than a raere raachine ? If you nei ther have, nor possibly can have, any such attribute as liberty, why struggle you so hard for both religious and civil liberty? You will tell me perhaps, that you are always deterrained by the prepollent raotive, and that the choice of that motive is never in yourself, but is thrown in your way by accident, the natural course of things, or the providence of God, Perhaps now you are not under any necessity of such determination. Perhaps, if you are, your liberty consists even in being so deterrained^ wben rational conviction coincides with the rao tive, and you choose to be so determined, because it is for your interest or pleasure. If it does not, you cannot call the raotive a prepollent motive, without denying yourself to be a rational, as well as a free agent. But your liberty is a mystery of your own nature, unfathomable to your under standing, and is not to be denied because you cannot com prehend yourself, a thing impossible to every being, but the Maker. ' Known unto himself alone are all his works from the beginning.' Could you perfectly understand every thing ^n yourself, you would, so far possess the knowledge of God himself. I ask you however, whether you do not sometimes deliberate on moral actions, before you act ? Whether you do not sometiraes do a wrong action, and blarae yourself for it, when done ? Whether the pleasure of sin does not fre quently prevail on you so to act, as to subject yourself to the displeasure of God, and in justice, to the sentence of everlasting misery, and the loss of everlasting happiness, which together, your reason inculcates as the infinitely pre pollent motive ? Do you, now and then, act directly against this motive, and yet call it corapulsory ? Or is every thing in you allowed fco furnish your will with such raotives, ex cept your reason ? But it is to be suspected, you plead yourself a slave, only that you may not be punished. You correct your child for doing araiss on no other principle, but a thorough conviction, thathe can do otherwise. On a jury you soraetiraes find a raan guilty of a crirae, which you know the law punishes with death, or frora the bench pronounce the sentence of death on a culprit, whora you cannot es- 448 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. teem guilty, if you do not think hira raorally free and ac countable. Every age and country on earth have judged as you do in the sentence, and all law and society depend on that judgraent. But when you are a culprit yourself, you are then for saying you could not possibly avoid the com mittal of that robbery or raurder, which have on trial, been fully proved against you. How is this ? Are you alone, of all raankind, the slave of wickedness ? On other occasions you talk of yourself in a rauch higher strain, as a raan go verned by reason, as a free agent, as one perhaps, who con siders the raost lawful authority to be an infringeraent of your natural liberty. I believe all mankind would look on him as an arrant knave, who, if arraigned, should plead his predominant passion as a full apology for the unlawful action proved upon him, and would look on him as a hair-brain, who should come out with his prepollents on a jury in favour of the prisoner. If we are not free to do good or evil, all reward is a waste of bounty ; all punishment, cruelty ; and all society, tyranny. All raankind are raistaken about that as a reality, which the necessitudinarians have found out to be but an erapty notion ; but happily raistaken, for they subsist on the notion, that all raen are morally free. We deem it a sort of freedora in a trainable brute, that he can abstain from that which his appetite leads hira to, rather than suffer the lash. Here is certainly all the appearance of a choice, made by a dog or horse, though prepollency evi dently determines that choice. In ourselves we perceive, not an apparent, but a real and actual choice of that which we prefer for the sake of a prepollent motive. Now, where there is a real choice, there is real freedom. A man who wishes to live, but is hungry, hath, we will suppose, a dish of very good victuals sefc before hira, and afc the same time, a dose of poison, with leave to swallow which he pleases. He laughs at the choice, but takes his dinner. Pray will any raan in his senses say, this person does not choose life, ra ther than death, and wholesorae food, rather than poison ? Or in choosing is not free ? If raankind are not free, at least raorally free, in their actions, instead of being placed, in the scale of being a lit tle lower than angels, they are, I fear, set a little lower than brutes. We hold raany of the brutes to sorae degree of ac- REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 449 count, and raust stand to a rauch higher one ourselves, whether we think their sense and freedora greater or less, than our own. The judgment ofour Maker, wifch regard to our moral freedom, is legible enough in the book of nature, and still more so in that of revelation. Good actions are generally attended with approbation and profit, and bad ones with disgrace and trouble, even in the present state of things. But why so, if men are necessary agents? If we can act no otherwise than we do ; if fchere is neifcher virtue nor vice in the world ^ if to the agent all actions are indif ferent ; why is the happiness of mankind made, by the na tural constitution of raen and things, to result frora one sorfc of actions, and their raisery from anofcher ? Why should the temperate be healthy, and the drunkard sickly? Is it not because tbe former raay drink to excess, and the latter be sober if he pleases ? Who drenches the one, or sews up the mouth ofthe other? There is no man so enslaved by the most inveterate habits of sin, as to have entirely lost his moral freedom ; none who cannot abstain from a bad action, if he pleases. This is evident, by his refraining wholly frora the sins he is most addicted to, when under the observation of others, particularly of persons, whom he greatly respects. Yet one should think, a propensity awed by beings not much higher than himself, cannot be very strong. Did the same raan, by faith, always feel himself in the presence, and under the inspection of God, he would not sin. It proceeds only from an abuse ofhis own freedora, that he will not con sider hiraself as perpetually in that awful presence. This, it is certain, he might do, were it not that he finds hiraself uneasy under the sense of such a presence. He therefore chooses to hide frora God, in other thoughts, or in want of thought, as his first parents in parallel circumstances did, from the same presence, ' in the trees of the garden.' If the force of habit and temptation acting unopposed and uncon trolled, could in any case deprive us ofour raoral liberty, at least we have an ally always at hand, more than able to counterbalance their power, as soon as called in by an easy meditation. If we will not call hira in, it must be owned, this at least is an exercise of choice and hberty. But I ut terly deny, that, excepting by total annihilation, or eternal daranation, a man can possibly be deprived of choice and. VOL. III. 2 G 460 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. hberty. I will answer for the truth of this position, tried in every conceivable, every possible case or circumstance, that can be supposed. Liberty of choice is indeed essential to man. In the book of Revelation, the moral freedom of mankind is laid down at the very basis of every law, every precept, every dispensation. Good and evil, life and death, are there, on every occasion, set before us, and a free choice offered to us. If we embrace the former, ' well done thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord,' follows as the predeterrained consequence of virfcue ; if we choose the latter, ' why will you die? Go ye accursed into everlasting fire,' is the voice of our judge, already sounded in our ears. Whafc ! endless happiness promised beforehand to virtue, and endless misery threatened before hand to vice ! and yet is there no difference between virtue and vice ? No truly, one man is forced to do good, and an other to do evil, and therefore this ought not to be punished, nor that rewarded. The wildest distraction cannot dictate any thing more remote from coraraon sense, nor the most irapious spirit of rebellion against God, any thing more enorraously hostile. In all, or anything, I have said concerning moral liberty, I would not be understood to assert, that all men are placed in a state of indifference or suspension between in ducements to good, and allurements to bad actions. Such state is never necessary to a freedom of choice. Neither do I hold an equal degree of freedora in all raen. He who is least raorally free in any instance, is nevertheless still mo rally free, and raay, but, I confess, witb difficulty, fix his choice against his particular bias. Natural disposition, and habit, have their weight in the mental scales. Good or bad principles have theirs too. But reason, if she pleases, may preponderate on the side of a right choice. Error, and the suggestions of an evil spirit, may strongly interfere on the side of slavery. But ifa man hath not quenched the Holy Spirit, in himself, that Spirit will • guide him into all the truth' he wants, and ' the truth shall raake him free.' With out the grace of God, we naturally lean to sin, and are never sufficiently free to such good works, and in such a manner, as may be acceptable in the sight of God. But the bias laid on us by natural corruption towards sin, is counter- REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 451 balanced by grace, and we are set upright again, and made free to do good or evil. Teraptation cannot force us to sin. Nor will the Holy Spirit corapel us to serve God, who disdains a service, not founded on choice, nor flowing from the good will, nor from the grateful and affectionate heart of his servant. From what hath been said, it appears demonstrably, that God, frora all eternity, perfectly foreknew every action of every intelligent being ; that he therefore, frora all eternity, predestinated and prefixed, the doom of every such agent; and that both angels and men are raade morally free by their Creator, in respect of every action, whefcher good or bad. Nothing farther remains to finish the purpose ofthis lit tle treatise, than, in the last place, so to touch on the inter ference ofthe divine foreknowledge and human freedom, as to shew how far it raay be reconciled to our conception, and how far it ought to be acquiesed in as a mystery. This I shall atterapt by stating and clearing up the raost consider able difficulties, wherewith it is attended in the rainds of modest, but bewildered inquirers ; and that I may not seem destitute of that humility and modesty, which I wish for in my reader, I mean to confess my ignorance, where I would have him made sensible of, and satisfied with his. But with all this, is there not some presuraption in pro ceeding farther on subjects of a nafcure so abstruse, than barely stating and proving fche doctrines ? As there is no thing knowable, that does not grow dark to our understand ings a little beyond the entrance or surface, and wholly in coraprehensible, if vve atterapt to pry still a little farther ; and as in these high and raysterious subjects, our inquiries are sure to be sooner thrown out, and to a greater distance too, frora all hope of satisfaction; it is my opinion we ought to rest in tbe full proof of fcwo doctrines, separately exhibited, and set them down for unquestionable truths, though we should be wholly unable fco clear up their con sistency. If they are truths asunder, they are truths toge ther also, though a poor reptile understanding should not see how. A healthful man knows, that wholesome food will nourish hira; but how, he knows not, nor need he care. Why should he not take a useful truth from God in the same manner, and sit down contented ? 2g 2 452 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 1 vrill however, lay before the reader those reflections , which have given ease to ray own raind, and wish they may do the like by his, on the difficulties arising from the doc trines already stated and proved. Let the first be, the old weather-beaten difficulty, that future free volitions, or actions, cannot with certainty be foreseen, because the certainty of the foresight makes it ne cessary, that the action, if foreseen, should be done, whereas the freedom of the agent puts it in his power to do, or not do, that action, and therefore he may abstain from doing it, which must inevitably destroy the certainty of such foresight. Yet it hath been naturally deraonstrated, that God did from eternity know every thing knowable, and experiment ally, that he does certainly foreknow, and did actually pre dict the raoral actions of sorae men, who were unquestion ably free to do, or not do those actions. The difficulty therefore raust be founded on a mistake, and well it may, for who can deny, there is a faculty or power in God, whereby he foresees with certainty the action of a free agent, in sorae such raanner as we see the action while it is a doing ? Our seeing a raan act does, by no raeans cause hira to act, nor take away his liberty of acting, or not act ing. I see John walking, but I do not by ray seeing make hira walk. I see hira afterward sit down, but I do not by my seeing, or by any other power over hira, raake him sit. He is all the time free to do either the one or the other, and my knowledge ofwhat he is doing, absolutely certain. Far ther, I foresee, but with some uncertainty indeed, that he will eat and drink, before an entire year, from the present minute, shall go round, or die for want of food. But my foresight, whether certain, or uncertain, it matters not in this case, neither causes him, nor hinders him, to eat. He is free as to either. Now God foresees with certainty, we hypothetically and uncertainly ; but there is no more reason for supposing his certain, than our uncertain foresight, to bear on the freedora of any created agent ; not, I ara sure, that we can conceive. If it should be said that God fore sees, because he first causes or predestines the thing fore seen, this is inverting the natural order, laid down by St. Paul, and making God the author of all sins he foresees. REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 453 The question now is, whether God by some faculty, ' ana logous to a sixth sense in us,' concerning the nature and ope ration of which we can have no idea, having no such sense, may not as naturally foresee, as we see, the free action of another man. To say, he hath no such faculty, is to deny, without a possibility of knowing a single tittle ofthe fact to be affirraed, or denied, a truth which, after all, raust be re ceived as a truth, or God cannot be God, nor the Scriptures the word of God ; but the word of sorae other being, raore knowing than God, who could with certainty predict, a thousand years before, the free volitions and actions of moral agents. Let me earnestly entreat you, my reader, to think in this matter, as a man born blind does by the sense of seeing in you. He can forra no idea of that sense, nor of its operation, yet you easily convince hira, that you per ceive innuraerable objects at too great a distance for hira to perceive by any, or all his senses. He wonders, but he be lieves ; nay, by repeated experiraents is corapelled to be lieve. All this tirae, he knows you to be but a man, in all other respects, ofthe sarae nature with hiraself. If he were sent into the world, without the sense of seeing, for no other reason, but to convince the rest of raankind, that in the infinitely incomprehensible being, there raay be certain faculties and powers, of which they can have no notion, and one particularly, which gives him a sight of future actions ; can we suppose a more beneficent end in the natural defect ofour sightless neighbour? This is a case so nearlyin point, that the faculty of foreseeing in God is scarcely raore a mystery to you, than the faculty of seeing in you, is to the man who cannot see. A man bhnd from his infancy, is more easily convinced ofthis faculty in God, than a seeing man ; his own case corapared with that of others, naturally leading his faith to a conclusion, without which he had been an infidel, like many, who are cursed with the sense of seeing ; so that we may cry out, as our Saviour did in a case not very dissirailar, ' for judgment' are the doctrines of pre science and freedom made known, ' that they who see not may see, and that they who see may be made blind.' For my own part, had no man ever been born blind, 1 should have found no difficulty in believing, that God is omniscient, that there are other faculties in God, than m 464 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. man, and infinitely superior, and that by one of these he can more easily and certainly foresee the free action of his in telligent creature, than I can see it. Of this I ara perfectly well assured ; as I ara, that 1 can freely do a good or bad action, or orait ifc, and fchafc I ought to feel reraorse for the one, orjoy for the other, as for an action peculiarly my own. If I do not know hovv this foreknowledge in God, and this freedora in me, consist with each otber, ifc is no raatter; I know fchey are consistent, which perfectly satisfies rae, who know a thousand other things with perfect certainty, the consistency of which I ara too ignorant to see. I will not, however, confess rayself ignorant of that which 1 really know, because of ray ignorance of other things which I nei ther do, nor can know. I cannot doubt, much less will 1 deny, that my soul and body are connected infco the person who writes this, though I ara as wholly ignorant of the co pula, by which they are united, as I ara of the consistency of God's foreknowledge with my own liberty of action. Here, I conceive, is divine prescience, and huraan freedom of action, perfectly reconciled to a raodest and rational un derstanding, content to coraprehend in this as far, and no farther, than in all other knowable matters, which, pursued to the utraost limits of human comprehension, become there as mysterious and unfathomable, as this foreknowledge and freedom have ever appeared to be in the raost gross or scep tical understanding. Another difficulty afcfcending the doctrines, proved, is that predestination of our everlasting doora shocks both the understanding and heart, as repugnant to the infinite justice and goodness of God. A raan does not raake himself, does not create his own strong or weak understanding, his good or bad dispositions of nature ; nor place hiraself under pa rents, or education, or circumstances, or in an age or coun try, of his own choosing. Yet from these result that cast and tendency of the raan to virtue or vice, which foreseen, procures, according to my doctrine, that favour and grace of God, or that rejection and reprobation, which were pre destinated, ere he existed. Why then are we not as much shocked with the doctrine of a future judgment? Is it not because it follows our ac tions, as reward should naturally come after merit, and pu- REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 455 nishment after demerit? Yes; and so they do, predestina tion notwithstanding. Our reward and punishment are not to begin till our state of probation shall be over, and our sentence justly passed. But if we have freely obeyed, or rebelled, where is the difference to us, whether our sentence was fixed upon fore or afterknowledge ? ¦ I can indeed see none. If the judge and jury perfectly know beforehand, that the prisoner is guilty, or not guilty, of the indictment, and that on trial, the evidence for him or against him, will be full and irresistible, may they not as justly fix and deter mine his sentence, ere they go into court, as when the whole proceeding is over? The trial is of use to others, in the way of satisfaction and exaraple, but can give no new light or conviction to the triers. The predestination I have de fined in this treatise, is a doctrine deraonstrated, and raust be received as a truth, from which a good man may extract corafort, and a bad raan terror, as our seventeenth article hath observed. Neither the doubts of ignorant persons, nor the cavils of pert and infidel sciolists, will ever be able to shake the belief of it, in rainds that have well digested the subject. As to the latter part of the difficulty, we raust confess, that in fact sorae men have by nature better under standings, better dispositions, and better opportunities of encouraging the advanceraent of both, frora education, &c. than others. Let the difference arise frora whence it will, it is certain God foresaw it, and will raake the former happy, if they uniforraly go on to iraprove tbese initial advantages, and the latter miserable, if they do not use their best endea vours to replace their natural evil dispositions with such as are better. Trace the difference between these two sorts of men to what source you please ; and be the reasons of God's acting by each in the manner laid down, ever so unfathom able, the fact, both in respect to their widely different kind of hves, and his widely different manner of regarding them, is an incontestible fact, wherein he must be justified either by reason, or at least by faith, if we do not raean to arraign and judge our Judge. Here is a deep mystery. Yet into this darkness we may bring with us such light, as shall dis sipate, in sorae raeasure. the doubts of rational and modest men. So far as this cannot be perfectiy accomplished, may be safely left to faith in the divine goodness. 456 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. It is true, the providence of God, or the natural course of things, education, custom, &c. give every man his parti cular nature, and largely influence the pecuhar temper and tendency of his actions. Yet it must not be forgotten, tbat every raan is born morally free, and intelligent too as to the dif ference between virtue and vice, and their effects on his own happiness or misery. Over and above this, God offers his grace and assistance to every man, and, in the course ofhis providence, cherishes, corrects, warns every raan. Every raan therefore may be a good man if he pleases, and is surely to blarae, if he is the reverse. There is nothing a bad man values hiraself so rauch for, as his liberty, and nothing he more grossly abuses. To tell hira he is a slave, or which is the sarae fching, a necessary agent, is to offer the highest af front to his understanding, or at least to his opinion ofit. Place before hira a dish of wholesorae food, and a cup of deadly poison, tell hira the opposite qualities of both, and insist on his inability to choose the forraer. He falls to, and proves the falsity of your assertion, with the reality of his own sound sense and liberty. Now place moral good and evil, wifch fcheir infinifcely iraportant consequences, be fore hira. Bid hira choose. He does, but erabraces the evil, and instantly throws the blarae on his nature, on Pro vidence, on fate, on custora, or on education ; thafc is, he violently raaintains, he is a fool, a slave, or a raere raachine, under irresistible raotives to wickedness. Yet he every day acts againsfc fchose raotives or temptations from one passion, in order to gratify another. God gave him grace sufficient to overcome them all, but he chose to be wicked, knowing, that to be wicked is to be miserable. He took party with • fcemptafcion againsfc grace, and thafc with all his heart. God foresaw it, and raust have looked with displeasure on it; bnt, in fixing his punishraent did certainly make large al lowances for his weakness of understanding, and want of resolution. On the other hand, ' whom God did foreknow, he did predestinate to be conforraed to the iraage of his Son,' as an introduction to their everlasting happiness, in consequence, we raay reasonably suppose, of his haviug foreseen soraewhat in thera, which conciliated his favour and blessing, which soraewhat, style it as you will, raust, one should think, have been the result of freedom, or it REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION, 457 could not have rendered its possessors the objects of divine favour, for with God necessity can have no merit. Sbme add to this another difficulty, still raore bold and futile, namely, if God, with certainty foresaw, that a very great part of mankind would be wicked, and finally undone by their sins, why did he create thera. What corapelled him, against the tendency of his infinite justice and good ness, to raake a nuraber of beings, whose raisery he foresaw inevitable ? It is certain, that God was perfectly free in all respects, and particularly in the work of creation, and raore particu larly still in the creation of all raorally free beings. This is an unfathomable raystery ; and it is another, that one half of eternity passed, ere the infinitely good God gave being to any creature. God raade all things, free, as well as ne cessary agents, with perfect freedora, when and how he pleased, and could have reraained to all eternity without cre ating any thing, or could have created the world in another raanner than he did. To prove this, it is enough to say, that he is perfectly good, freely good, and in no degree, or respect, a necessary agent. He foresaw with certainty all he made, yet made all without the sraallest corapulsion frora his own nature, frora his plan of creation, or from his foreknowledge. These things are true, and must be consistent though no created raind can shew how. It is even too bold to say, as sorae do, that be made the vvorld in the best raanner he could make it, for it is possible he may have made innume rable worlds, and one in a better raanner, than another. It is, I think enough to say, as he hiraself did, on finishing this system, 'behold, all is good.' The men who raake this ob jection, so extend their own liberty, as to leave it little or no bounds ; and at the sarae time, are for cramping the li berty of God. They represent hira, not only as bound by eternal laws, which he raust not, cannot transgress, but as a necessary agent in respect to all the good he hath done,. or can do. Now, I esteem his goodness voluntary, and from my soul thank him for the being he hath given rae, as vo luntarily given ; and for all the infinite good he hath done to rae, as voluntarily done. The lawless subjects would needs give laws to their king. They would set themselves at liberty in action, and tie hira up ih judgment. What is, 458 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. this, but preparing the v/ay for wickedness by petulance and presumption ? As to the present difficulty, I must, after proving it, insist, that God raade his intelligent creatures morally free, that he gave thera understanding to distinguish between good and evil, a love of good, and an abhorrence of evil, and set both before them. It follows, therefore, that if they choose the evil, they are to blame themselves for the consequence, not to raurraur against their Maker. Being is a free gift of God, and a blessing in itself to all, on whom it hath been bestowed ; so great a one too, that many prefer eternal misery to annihilation. To this blessing are an nexed ten thousand others, all of them as freely conferred, previous to any actual merit in the receivers. But when mankind had perversely abused all this, and flown into open disobedience and rebellion against their Maker, he with in finite pity schemed their redemption by the death of his Son ; and grace sufficient for their retrieval, by the aids of his Holy Spirit. After all this, have a race of free beings any reason to complain? Have they not numberless reasons to be thankful ? Not they, you rejoin, whose raisery was fore seen by their Creator. Yes they too, I insist, for what hath God done to thera,- but that, which you and they unani mously agree to be very good. If they are undone, 1 repeat it, their own voluntary act and deed alone bath undone them. You will expect a reason frora me for calling this a futile difficulfcy. But have I not a right so to call it, after proving, that the foreknowledge of God is not conditional, hypothe tical, or precarious, but absolutely certain ? He did not fore know in this raanner, if such and such angels and raen are created, they will be wicked and miserable. No, he foresaw, as well their existence, as their wickedness and raisery, with absolute certainty. That his foreknowledge of their ac tions was infallible, is an unquestionable truth. That some of thera are or will be, raiserable, is an unquestionable truth. That he nevertheless freely gave them being, is another un questionable truth. If you cannot, in your own mind, re concile these glaring truths to one another, nor take it mo destly for granted, that they are reconcileable to one another, and to the divine justice and goodness ; that is, ifyou will assent to nothing but so far only as you can account for it, nor will at all believe ni God, nor trust him with his own REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 469 creation, I ara sony for it, and pray God to give you a raore rational turn of mind, it being wholly beyond my ability to help you, in that important respect, any other way. But still remeraber this, that you are a morally free agent, that the foreknowledge, and predestination of God, do not in the smallest degree, bear in upon, dirainish, or any way af fect, your moral liberty ; and that therefore, if you are un done, you are undone by yourself, in direct opposition to all the aids that could be so lent you, as to leave you still a free being, and in spite of infinite mercy itself. To confess, that God freely gave being to a number of creatures, whom he foresaw, first in a state of sin, and then in irretrievable raisery, and then to ask, why he gave them being, is to grant the act of God, and then to question its rectitude. That this attack on the divine justice is as foolish as it is impious, raay be easily shewn. The very thing, which represents fche universe, as awork worthy of its Maker, is the creation of intelligent and free beings. For these all other creatures were raade. In these therefore raust be found, not only by far the raost excellent and glorious part, but also the end and perfection, of fche creation. The blank of nonentity had done as rauch honour to the Divine Being, as a world of raachlnery, or necessary agents, without one raind to conteraplate or enjoy it. Again, of all the objects in view on the intended production of a world, virtue, we naturally conceive, must have stood foremost. Yet virtue in rational creatures is impossible, without liberty given to be vicious, and, with thera both, room raade for reward and punishraent. If therefore virtue v^as willed by the Deity, vice must have been permitted. The justice and mercy of God must have been for ever unknown, nay, utterly unemployed, if both virtue and vice had been excluded from the system of things. It was therefore fit, that intelligent and morally free agents should have been created, though the Maker, with absolute certainty, foresaw, the good use which some were to raake bf tbis freedom, and the gross abuse of it in others. Shall not God make one to be good and happy, be cause he foresees fchat another will be wicked and miserable? Is the sarae key that shuts hell, to lock up heaven too? Is God, in order to exclude a devil out of his world, fco exclude himseifaiso? Lest some creafcures should do evil, is neither 460 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION, God, nor his other creatures, ever to do good ? Is it not a divine benefaction to give us our choice of infinite happi ness or misery, since the power to distinguish and choose is given us also ? Well, some one will say, I am more natu rally and powerfully inclined to vice, which brings on mi sery, than to virtue, which is attended with happiness. Be it so ; yet are you not by far more inclined to heaven, than hell, and raay not tbe fear of the latter push you, as fast, as the desire of the former, draws you upward ? If it raay, be thankful, that hell also was created, for by your own con fession you want the influence of both. Well, but to pursue ray subject, I will suppose you ready to assent to the doctrines and solutions laid before you, were it not for a still greater difficulty, thrown in your way by St. Paul, who appears to handle the point of predes tination, in a manner, and upon principles, very different from mine. He, you urge, says nofching of raoral freedom, bufc speaks of God as ' predesfcinafcing some fco be conformed to the image ofhis Son; as loving some, and hating others, before they were born, or had done any good or evil ; as having raercy on whom he will have mercy, without regard to hira that willeth, or runneth,' but only to his own inten tion to shew corapassion ; as ' raising up a raan, that he raight shew his power in hira ; and as hardening whora he will.' On this, you observe, the apostle starts an objection,' Why doth he yet find fault? Forwho hath resisted his will?' and answers it thus ; ' Nay but, O raan, who art thou that repliest against God ? Shall the thing forraed say to him that forraed ifc. Why hasfc thou raade me thus ? Hath not the potter power over the clay of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour? What if God willing to shew his wrath, and to raake his power known, endured with rauch longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction : and that he raight make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory ?' This passage of the apostle did, I confess, appear not only dark, but dreadful to me, for a long tirae, and raust iiave still continued to do so, but for two things ; first, his il lustrating the arguraent, in reference to the reprobate and re jected, with such cases,asof Esau and Pharaoh, which seem REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 461 to point only at the temporal dispensations of providence, and the use which God raakes of bad men in this worid, to bring about his gracious purposes of faith and salvation'for others, brought within the verge of his mercy and favour by better dispositions, foreseen; and secondly, bis having said in the foregoing chapter, that, 'whom God did foreknow, he. also did predestinate;' which, although it does relate to Chris tianity, and consequentiy to a future life, I take as a key to aU he delivers on the subject. He sets forth the predesti nation as posterior to, and an effect of, the foreknowledge. Let us therefore lay it down for a rule, that whorasoever God did foreknow to be of dispositions acceptable to himself, and predisposed to faith and obedience, he elected as his own children, loved, and predestinated, not only to be vessels of honour in this life, that is, to be called into his church, but to be happy for ever. These are they whora St. Peter, speaking to the very sarae purpose, calls ' the elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctifi cation of the Spirit unto obedience, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ.' Does man elect with, and God with out, reason ? No, he foreknew, and therefore elected, such as were fit objects of his choice. And let us also take it for a rule, that whomsoever he foreknew to be of evil and per verse dispositions, he rejected, hated, and predestinated to be vessels of dishonour here and hereafter. All this, we suppose for the present, he did, ere any of thera was brought into being, or had began to act. It was as reasonable, that he should love the lovely, and hate the hateful, before, as after, they had made proof of their opposite qualities on the stage of action, since he perfectly foreknew what each of thera would be, and do. We love the raan whora we do but believe to be of a good raind and heart, before we see any proofs of either. We are affected in a contrary raanner to those, whora we but think of an opposite turn. And why should not God have stood so affected towards both kinds of men, since he perfectly knew them, before they had a being. Approbation, esteem, and love, grow as naturally out of foreknowledge, especially when perfect and certain, as out of actual and experimental trial. The same is true too of abhorrence and contempt. Taking rise then from the divine foreknowledge, and 462 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. supposing the distinction between elect and reprobate to be thereby made, let us consider fche whole race of mankind, already creafced, under the hands of God, as a mass of clay under those of a potter ; and let us allow, that he hath a right to mould, by his providential dispensations (for the passage evidently relates to the works of providence, not of creation) the separate parts of that raass into what forras he pleases ; who shall say unto him, ' Why hast thou made me thus V Who shall say. Why hast thou made rae a mean utensil, and that other a raore dignified piece of furniture? Are they not his own property by right of creation out of nothing ? If they are, surely he raay, of his own unraerited goodness, raise up one, and put down another. But he can, and one day will assign the reason of this preference. Nay, even now we may suppose it. If the pieces of clay, now aniraated, shew a strong disposition to form theraselves by particular and opposite raodels, and if he saw this frora the beginning, the good, whora he helps to be better, have rea son to be thankful, and the bad, whora, after rejected means of reforraation, he hardens to providential purposes of great moraent, for which their own natural perversity could not sufficiently qualify them, have no reason to charge him with injustice. But if tbe whole mass hath degenerated into an inaptitude to the finer forms, and it requires a miracle to restore it, shall the artificer be charged with partiality and injustice, if, working some part of it anew into its pristine purity, he should of this make such vessels as are intended for the highest purposes, and of the rest such only, as are applicable to lower and more sordid, but still necessary, uses? Pharaoh was, in himself, a tyrant and an oppressor. But tyrant as be was, if God had not hardened his heart, he could not have gone the lengths he did, nor so effectually have served the purposes of Providence. Lost already to himself, God renders hira still raore irapenetrable to con viction, that in hira the raighty power of God raay be raade raore fully manifest in two nuraerous nations. If the crea ture of God will not serve hira one way, why should not the Creator force hira to be useful another? The devil and his angels having raised the first rebellion in the universe of God's creatures, and fallen from a state, not of faith, but of vision ; not'of trial, but of complete happiness, were deserv- REFLECTION.S ON PREDESTINATION. 463 edly excluded from mercy, and driven, through total dere liction and despair, into such a horrible obduracy in wick edness, as rendered them not only exaraples of divine ven geance, but most useful instruments, in the hands of over ruling wisdom and power, forthe execution ofa providential scheme, out of which raore good to the cause of virtue, and more glory to God, will be derived, than had resulted from their perseverance in duty. This hardening, which at first hearing sounds so harshly, ought to be considered. When the heart is softened, and made penetrable to the motions of grace, by afflicfcion, &c. we vrith reason believe this change to be the mixed effect of God's Spirit, and the towardly disposition of that heart yielding fco chastisement, and opening itself to the influx of new and better thoughts, with which the divine agent of virtue inspires it. This blessed Spirit alone can sufficiently warm and soften the heart of man. But if any man, by long- continued resistance, and repeated insults, hath quenched the Spirit within him, then it is, that, for want of a mollify ing warrath, he grows hard like wax, and becoraes incapable of good impressions. His hardness is the mixed effect of his ovvn cold and perverse disposition, and of the divine de reliction ; yet, to conclude it was not in his power to sub due his disposition to the motions of grace, is to exculpate him entirely, as having no hand in hardening himself. Here we raay discern whence arises the first degree of hardness, which is enough to fit a raan for his own destruction. There is however a higher degree, which raay be requisite to qua lify hira for the purposes of providence ; and this he is brought to by an evil spirit, perraitted, if not sent, to enter into his heart, and there to work every spring of action within hira. Such was the case of Saul, after the Spirit of God had left hira. And raore reraarkably still, such was the case of Judas, after having received the sop, when the devil entered infco him, and hardened hira for an action, which we cannofc suppose hira capable of, raerely on the strength of his own peculiar avarice and other bad qualities. Nevertheless, thus hardened, though he becarae an instru ment of the devil in the murder of Christ, was he not an instrument of God too, in working salvation for all men ? In the same manner I think is to be explained, that re- 464 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. markable passage of Isaiah, concerning the hardness and blindness of the Jews, quoted by our Saviour himself, by St. John, and twice by our apostle ; ' The Lord said. Go and tell this people, hear ye indeed, but understand not, and see ye indeed, but perceive not. Make the heart of this people fat, and raake their ears heavy, and shut their eyes, lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and convert, and be healed.' All this, in St. John's quotation, is given as the act of God ; and in that of St. Paul, the Jevvs are charged with closing their own eyes. Acts xxviii. 27, and again, Rora. xi. 8. The act is ascribed to God ; frora whence I conclude, that it was the raixed effect of divine providence and Jewish perversity. He who hath considered the infinite service done to Chris tianity by the Jews, as thus blinded, and consequently ene mies to Christ and his gospel, will at once perceive the drift of this providence, and accede to the explanation I have given to the places of Scripture under consideration. There is another expression of the apostle in this pas sage, which seeras to bear still harder on my assertion of moral freedom in man. It is this; ' So then itis not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that shew eth mercy.' I hope I have laid nothing across the real sense of this text. Certain it is, I could not have intended it, for I ascribe every thing to the mercy of God, and no thing to raan, but a raere will and choice, often not more than a bare wish. But does not the text imply, that raan hath a will, as well as a power to run ? And what, in re ference to good and evil actions, is the will of raan ? Let St. Paul himself answer the question. 'To will,' saith he, ' is present with me. When I would do good, evil is pre sent with rae.' It is of raan ' to plough and sow, but it is qf God to give the increase. He that planteth' even the gos pel, • and he that watereth, is nothing, but God that giveth the increase.' Yet Paul was in the right to plant, and Apollos to water, though the labours of both should have corae to nothing, had not God been pleased to bless and prosper those labours. The true meaning then of the text in question is, raan may will, and so far is free, but his will is of no force to accomplish its own purpose. The mercy of God, atvd his free grace alone, can do that. However,' REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 465 is not God pleased with a will to do good in man, who raight, if he were to follow the corrupt dispositions of his nature, as readily, or raore readily, will to do evil ? You will say tben, with the opponent in the passage, ' Why doth God yet find fault, for who hath resisted his will ?' To this question I have already given the answer of St. Paul, and here shall add, which is a known truth, that all wicked men have resisted the will of God, nay, and good men too, but in a less heinous degree. The apostle could not have intended to grant, that no man does, or can, resist the will of God, for be speaks of men who ' resist the truth,' that is, the truths of God, and says, 'the carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.' Did this blessed saint believe, that sin is agreeable to tbe will of God? Why then should he exhort men to forsake tbeir sins, to die to sin, &c. Surely he thought it utterly offensive to hira, who ' cannot look on sin.' The truth is, the objector raeans no such horrible piece of irapiety, as may be easily understood by St. Paul's answer, or if he did, he deserved no answer. But supposing he said these words in reply to those of the apostle, 'whom he will, he hardeneth,' which was really the case, then we readily grant, tbat a man hardened, as Judas, for a parti cular purpose of Providence, does not, in regard to thafc purpose, resisfc the will of God, though he often did so be fore, for purposes of his own, which provoked God to give bim over to a reprobate mind, since which, being no longer disposed to obey the moral will of God, he like the devil, is compelled to promote fche providential purposes ofhis Maker, even by his wickedness. In one sense, no man resisteth the will of God, who permits us, generally speaking, to act as we please. In another, we act against his will, as often as we sin, for be saith, sin not. Having sufficiently delivered my thoughts on the mosfc difficulfc parts of this passage, and having often insisted, that God predestinated those, whora he foreknew, to be conforraed to the image or resemblance of his Son, on ac count of the good and nurturable dispositions he saw in them, I leave it to the reader to judge for himself, whether this was the foreseen recoraraendation, for which they were thus elected and preferred to others; or whether it was VOL. in. 2 " 466 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. somewhat else in them, which, ere they were yet raised out of the quarry, gave the great statuary an occasion tojudge, that they were of fit materials to take the figure and pohsh of so beautiful an iraage. He chose the block because he saw a Jesus in it. While some are said to be predestinated to this image, it is not said here, or elsewhere, that any raan was predestinated to wickedness, or the image of the devil. We find indeed, that Christ, ' was delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, to be taken,' and ' by wicked hands to be crucified and slain ;' but it is not said there, that God predestinated his cruclfiers to thei perpetration of that enormous deed. He foresaw it indeed in all its circumstances, as the concurrent act of all who were concerned in it. Nay, he determined and decreed the araazing transaction. But it is not intiraated, that he caused any one of them, Caiaphas, Pilate, Judas, to act the part he did in the horrible tragedy. Yet, had even this been said, it could not have represented God as the author of their sin, inasrauch as having foreseen the extrerae readiness of these wretches to run into the most flagitious crimes, if he had appointed them to this particular piece of cruelty, so necessarily instruraenfcal fco the salvation of mankind, ra ther than suffered thera, at that tirae, to vent their wicked ness on other objects, what had he done more, than brought good out of evil, and employed the devil, and his infernal agents, in the service of infinite goodness ? It is true, that all have sinned, which, without moral freedom, not one could have done, and all freely subjected themselves to the sentence of eternal death, and therefore the execution of that sentence on all could bring no impu tation of injustice on their Judge. On the other hand, his mercy must be glorified, if he is pleased to save some.. If he ' hath mercy on whom he will have mercy,' be it for what reason you will, is this to impeach his justice ? Surely not. If you forgive one debtor your demand, are you therefore dishonest or unjust, in exacting your money from another, whora you love less, though perhaps you love only out of whim and humour ; and will you charge God with partiality or injustice, for a preference founded on some weighty rea son, which you do not know, and on infallible wisdom too, which you readily acknowledge ? REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. -467 At the end of this much agitated passage, the apostie saith, ' But if (what if, in our English version does not rightly give the sense ofthe original) 'God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction : and that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, wbich he had afore prepared unto glory, even us whora he hath called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles' (the other verses from the twenty- fourth to the thirtieth, of the ninth chapter to the Romans, being all thrown in as parenthetical) ; ' what shall we say then ?' ver. 30, why, ' that the Gentiles, which followed not after righteousness, have attained to the righteousness, which is of faith ; but Israel, which followed after the law of righteousness, hath not attained to the law of righteous ness. Wherefore ? Because they sought it not by feith.' Any other way of interpreting the place, but this, goes against the rules of gramraar, and wrongs the sense and connexion of the apostle. He seeras to have kept this question in reserve for a yet farther solution of the diffi culties pressed upon him by the subject, and for a winding up of his argument in an application of the whole to be lievers and unbelievers ; to the infidel Jews, on whom blindness in part had fallen, and who, for this, as vessels of wrath and dishonour, were made examples of divine ven geance ; and to the Christians, whether Jews or Gentiles, who had attained to righteousness, even the righteousness which is by faith. This is as rauch as to say, what will you, or can you, say, but that God is just, if he, with long- suffering and undeserved patience, bears the perversity of raen, voluntarily, obstinately, and desperately wicked, who have rendered their own destruction inevitable, in order to shew his power and raajesty by the judgraents justly poured on thera at length, that all others, at once adoring his lenity and equity, may ' learn to hear and fear, and do no raore presuraptuously ;' and that a better sort of raen, who for their voluntary attachraent to goodness, and their ready ac ceptance of his gospel, even under circumstances of perse cution on that very account, raay be admired and honoured by the rest of mankind, and the more, for a fair comparison with the former ? Here the apostle represents God as angry 2 H 2 468 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. wifch fche wicked, whom he calls ' the vessels of wrath ;' but why angry, if not for their wickedness, and abuse of his patience ? Surely it could not have been the meaning of this saint, that God was angry with them for no reason, for nothing ; and surely, if in sinning they had been necessary agents, and had only done, what they could not avoid doing, he raust have been angry at them without cause or reason. On the other hand, why was' he better pleased with such as are here called, ' vessels of raercy,' but because, having seen thera well disposed to a free election of righteousness, he had, even ere he called thera, prepared thera by a portion of preventing grace, for the glory of that election, and of the high iraproveraents in piety and virtue, to be raade in them, as naturally consequent fcherefco ? If in pursuance of this reasoning, we conclude, that God, having foreseen the dispositions and actions ofall men, did decree and predes tinate, for the well-disposed, assistance sufficient to conform thera with the iraage of his son ; and decreed also, that the ill-disposed should not have the offer of this assistance, only to be slighted and abused ; or, which is equally and perfectly just, should have predestinated thera to the dis honour and raisery, he foresaw, they would choose ; we shall, I believe, safely rest in a great truth, consistent in itself, and perfectly consonant to infinite raercy in regard to the forraer, and infinite justice in regard to the latter. St. Paul sets forth predestination as the effect of foreknowledge, and under this position, as explanatory of his subsequent.rea- sonings, proceeds to thafc passage, fche raore difficult part of which we have endeavoured to clear up by a short, but, I hope, satisfactory descant upon each. God then, frora all eternity foresaw, with certainty, the being, and actions, whether good or bad, of every man ; and from all eternity decreed or predestinated his fate, as to happiness and raisery, disgrace or glory. Itwas long after this, that he entered on his work of creation, and after that again, but iraraediately, on the work of providential inter position. If therefore in the course of either work, or of both together, he hath forraed sorae vessels to honour and sorae to dishonour, what hath St. Paul done raore, than every ofcher raan rausfc do, in justification of God's deahngs with men? Most certainly every man raust confess there REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 469 was in God a perfect foreknowledge of every thing ; raust consequently believe, that he prejudged every man; must be fully convinced, that he afterward peopled heaven with angels, and earth with raen, araong which orders of being some have voluntarily transgressed, and have inherited, or shall inherit, the punishraent, previously threatened to their transgression. Must he not, to conclude, have therefore, either as Creator, or as the providential Governor of his works, made some vessels to dishonour, since, with absolute certainty, he foresaw both the actual existence, and obsti nate impenitence in wickedness, of sorae, who had ifc in their power to adorn his creation with shining examples of piety and virtue ? Hath he not then raade sorae to disho nour, since, ere he raade thera, he perfectly foresaw what they were to be, and what they would actually do ? We cannot possibly take the words of St. Paul in a raore rigor ous sense than this ; yet nothing can be raore clearly true, than this. Let him who dares, call the rectitude and justice of his Maker in question for it. The raoral freedora of angels and raen sufficiently accounts for the whole to ray understanding. The truth is, ' God made them all upright, but they have sought out to themselves raany inventions,' and raade themselves wicked. God foreknowing this, ne vertheless did give them being, and in that sense only, and so far only, is said to have made them to dishonour, but to a dishonour of their own choice. A man begets a son, gives hira good instructions, and sets him a good example ; is he to be blamed, if the youth proves a villain, and ends his days dn the gallows, though the father, by begetting, maybe said to bave made hira a vessel of dishonour, for had he not begotten hira, he had never been either wicked or unhappy. I do not propose this as a parallel case, in any sense, but that of our apostie, to whose raeaning, if I rais take not, it comes fully up. The reasonings of the apostie, thus cleared respectively on the particular parts, thafc seera to require elucidation, may be briefiy sumraed up in the following raanner, begin ning at the 29th verse of the Sth, and ending with the 33d of the llth chapter. The candid, intelhgent, and attentive reader will easily perceive, that in this short sketch I da justice to the drift of our apostie. 470 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. Whom God foreknew tobe of good dispositions towards religious truth, towards faith and virtue, he predeterrained to a resemblance of Christ in true holiness of life. These he called into his church ; tbese he justified as partaking by faith the righteousness of Christ ; and these he exalted into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. What shall we say then to these things ? Why, we shall readily say. If God be for us, who shall be against us ? He hath freely given his Son for us, and with him every thing we stand in need of, as his children adopted in Christ Jesus. Nothing therefore shall be able to separate us from our love of Christ, nor frora the love which God bears to us as raem bers of Christ. As to the Jews, who are my brethren according to the flesh, I ara in extrerae pain for thera, on account of their general unbelief, so great indeed, that I would wilhngly suffer any thing, even the second excoramunication, or se paration from Christ, though not a final nor total excision, if by that means I raight bring thera into his gospel, or render thera objects ofhis raercy. However, they are not all infi dels. There is a remnant or number of them, who, by the grace of God have embraced the gospel, and are brought within the terras of salvation. In regard therefore to the Jews, the word of God hath taken sorae effect. They are not, it is true, all Israelites, who are descended from Israel. The children, to whora the proraise of God was given, are not to be reckoned according to the flesh, for the carnal minded are rather the enemies of God. This is no new thing, for it was just so in the days of Abrahara 'and Isaac. The promise went in favour of Isaac, the son of Abraham by Sarah, and not in favour of Ishraael ; and again in favour of Jacob, though the younger son of Isaac by Rebecca. These and their posterity, as children of the proraise, were counted for the seed ; and these as foreseen by God to be of proper dispositions, were beloved and chosen by him, ere they were bom. Their brothers, foreseen too as unfit objects of divine preference, were hated or rejected, so as that the designation of a peculiar people, and the birth of the Messiah, by whom all the nations of the earth were to be blessed, were affixed to the line of Isaac and Jacob. Is God now, on account of this preference, unjust? No, for REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 471 surely he hath a right to bestow his unmerited favours on whom he will, and reject whora he will, especially as their personal merits and demerits respectively, were with cer tainty foreseen. As to demerits, the case of Ishmael and Esau may be well illustrated by that of Pharaoh, who blinded by hiraself, and hardened against the most glaring causes of conviction, was raised up to worldly power, and farther hardened, that God, in hira, raight shew the supe riority of his own power over all kings, and their gods, in the sight of his people, and of all raankind. No doubt, Ishmael, Esau, and Pharaoh, with their will, would have wished for, and chosen a better lot, than that which fell to their share, though a great deal happier, at the worst, than they deserved. But their will was no rule with God, who saw farther, and schemed with infinitely higher wisdom and goodness, raercy, let me call it ; for the best of them, on either side, had no right to claim any thing from God. If Isaac and Jacob were better raen than their brothers, they were not good enough to bring in God as fcheir debtor for any thing. It raay be here objected, why did God find fault with Ishraael, Esau, and Pharaoh, since they did not in any thing resist his will ? And it may be as easily ans wered, that they did resist his will, or they had been better men than they were. It may be also asked ofthe objector, whence he conceived the impious boldness to arraign the dispensations of Providence, who hath surely as much right to choose out of mankind, whom he shall raise to honour, or throw into disgrace, as a potter hath to make, out of the same lump of clay, one utensil for a higher, and another for a lower purpose, all mankind being his own property. This is allowed to a potter wbo cannot distinguish any part of his clay as finer than another ; but undoubtedly much greater is the right of God over men, whose comparative fitness or unfitness, for any purpose, he can distinguish with infinite exactness. Bufc if God was wilhng fco shew his wrath to, and his power over, a worse kind of raen, and did, forthat end, exalt the one and debase the other, m the place of infidel Jews, adopting the beheving Gentiles, what shall we say to it, but that the Gentiles were preferred, on ac count of their faith to tbe Jews, who went about presump tuously to establish their own righteousness by the works 472 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. of the law ? Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth in hira, and shall confess with the raouth that God bath raised him up from the dead. This man shall be saved. There is no difference made by God, under the Christian dispensation, between Jew and Greek, for the sarae God is Lord of both. Whosoever shall call upon tbe name ofthe Lord, be his country and nation what it will, shall be saved ; but indeed this calhng upon the Lord is not to be expected frora such as know not the Lord. But who are they who have not had an opportunity of knowing hira ? Is not the sound of his preachers gone out into all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the world ? But if other nations raay apologize for their want of faith by their ignorance, the Jews at least can have no pretence to such excuse, who have apostatized frora their own prophecies, and resisted the evidence of miracles. Hath God then cast away his own people? No, none of those whora he foreknew as his, but hath reserved a rem nant to hiraself, according to the election of grace. These he foreknew, he chose, he called, he sanctified. Thus he hath dealt with thera, and they are thankful for it, as men who did not deserve it, though they were qualified to receive it, and as fully sensible, that it is the effect of God's free grace and mercy. Israel then at large hath not obtained that which he is in search of, but ouly the remnant, the election. As to the rest, they were blinded, and God gave thera, pursuant to their own perverse choice, a spirit of sluraber, with eyes, that tbey should not see, and ears that they should not hear, unto this day. They hardened them selves in pride and worldly-mindedness against all opportu nities of conviction. They rejected the truth. They cruci fied the Lord of life. On this, that they might continue to give the testiraony of enemies to Christianity, they were farther so blinded and hardened, that, with their eyes open, they could not see the light of the gospel ; with their ears open, they cpuld not hear its loud and powerful sound. In this condition, they are still of signal service to the Gentile world, and shall be more so, when God shall open their eyes, and call thera by faith into his church. This, after all I have said on the subject, raust still be a raystery, of which, as such, you ought not to be ignorant, that blindness in REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 473 part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in. As concerning the gospel, they are enemies for your sake, but as touching the election, they are beloved for the father's sake. God hath included them all in unbe lief, that he raight bave raercy upon all. Here is the real'drift of the apostle's argument, wherein he speaks entirely of providential dispensations, exhibited in this life to whole nations, Ishraaehtes, Edoraites, Israelites, Egyptians, and the Gentiles of all countries ; by no raeans of individuals, but so far only as they were con cerned with large coraraunities of raen. Neither does he enter into the points of election to eternal life, or reproba tion, any farther, than as the aforesaid dispensations may ultimately result in either. From what hath been already said, both the possible and actual origin of raoral evil raay be sufficiently seen and accounted for. About this a nuraber of questions by far more nice and difficult, than useful, have been started, and are still agitated araong the over curious. The Fatalists have one hypothesis, the Manichees another, and there is a third, held by those who deny that there is any evil in fche universe. The first have no meaning for their word, fate. The second assert a fiat contradiction ; and the third are re futed by fact, nothing being more evident to reason, than that there is abundance of moral evil in the world, nor to sense, than that punishment, or the raiseries consequent upon sin, are far frora eligible things. To say that raore good raay, or will be, made to result frora sin, than could have been hoped for without it, is to say nothing, for evil is evil, let its consequences be as profitable as you please. Besides, it is a great deal more rational to say, that God brings good out of evil, than that evil is naturally produc tive of good. The questions relating to Providence are more myste rious, and at the sarae time more useful, as well as more akin to the subjects we have been handling. The natural worid hath been thought by many to be governed wholly by stated causes, from which their proper effects must inva riably and necessarily proceed. I cannot accede to this opinion, but think it raore probable, that these works of God continue still to require his supporting and directing hand. However, whether they naturally do or not, it is cer- 474 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATiaN. tain, that as they were made for the intelligent part of the creation, and in some measure put in subjection to it, they are, in smaller matters, changeable, and often actually changed, by angels and men, who, though they cannot alter the courses of the heavenly bodies, can nevertheless kindle or extinguish a fire, and that to very important pur poses, whether good, as to warm theraselves, or evil, as to burn others, and give to certain parts of raatter a situation or adjustraent, which the natural influence of causes, or course of things, had not otherwise given. But though this raight be disputed, it raust be confessed, that God could, and raost raen believe, did, suspend, counteract, and over power, in raany cases, the stated efficiency of natural causes, in favour of the raoral world, when conviction, virtue, and happiness, could not have been so well produced, without this species of providential interposition. It is this species of interposition, which we call a mi racle, whereon the proof of a divine revelation, the greatest instance of providential goodness, known to mankind, hath been raade chiefly to depend. Accordingly every Christian, in a brief summary of revelation, begins with declaring his faith in God, not only that ' he is,' but also, ' that he is a re warder of thera that diligently seek hira,' and a protector of all who depend on hira. The creed as repeated by each of us in person, and for hiraself only, sets out with a profession of faith and trust in God, that is, in the particular, as well as general, providence of God. There is no one point more in sisted on in the holy Scriptures, than this, nor more amply vouched by experience. All faith, all prayer, without it, must be reduced to downright absurdity and presuraption. The history ofthe world, whether sacred or profane, if well understood, is a mixed history of God's deahngs with raan, and of their behaviour towards hira and one another.^ Laying this down, as a doctrine admitted, the question may be asked, in what manner, and how far, doth the Divine Being interfere with the liberty of raoral agents ? Or how is it possible, that his providence, and our freedom can consist? The manner and the degree of providential interposition are placed so far above all possibility of human comprehen sion, that nothing more presumptuous, than such questions ' See Strong's ProTidential History of Mankind. REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 475 can be conceived. If the wisdom and goodness of God are acknowledged, let us not dare to dispute his power, but ra ther earnestiy pray for the highest exercise ofit, and say to hira, ' thy will be done.' Are we not infinitely safer in his hands, than our own ? We however frequently see the raan ner and degree of providential interposition in particular in stances, and by what means, and how far, the hand of our heavenly King is employed in raising up one raan, or na tion, and putting down another. This is enough for our con viction. Let us not therefore propose our how, or our why, to the King of kings, at least while we are raodest enough to believe, an earthly king raay govern wisely on raaxims, and by reasons, which we do not see into. Neither let us doubt the divine interference with the will of moral agents, and their actions, merely because we cannot comprehend the raanner or degree ofthat interference. If our Judge will hold us to account only so far as he perraits us to be free, we have no reason to irapeach his justice. He will not judge us for his actions, but our own. The truths of his holy religion are revealed to us in order to deliver us from the slavery of error and sin. ' You shall know the truth,' saith Christ to his disciples, ' and the truth shall make you free.' The unbelieving Jews, to whora he also said it, thought theraselves free, without that truth ; but he soon convicted them of slavery to sin, the worst sort of servility. Now, it was by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, that he promised to guide thera into all truth, and through the truth, into ' the glorious liberty of the sons of God.' Does the grace of God then enslave us, or force our wills or actions ? No, it finds us miserable slaves, but gives us strength to exert and maintain that liberty, to which we are born as the children of God, whose service is perfect free dom. I know nothing of compulsory grace, nor of compul sory faith, but that of devils, who would be infidels, were not the causes of faith too powerful for their resistance. If there are raen who are able to resist even its historical evi dence, it is true, then, that there are men more blind, at least in this respect, if not worse in others, than devils. God governs the world, which he made, and will judge it. His government is founded on infinite wisdom, sweet ened by infinite goodness, and authorized by right of cre ation, and almighty power. This government I call his pro- 476 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. vidence, to which 1 not only subrait with ray whole soul and heart, but rejoice in it as ray sole anchor of safety, as well when 1 do not, as when I do understand the reasons for this or that dispensation. This deference, in a liraited degree, I pay to the chief raagistrate of that civil society, whereof I am a meraber ; and know full well, that if it is not paid by me and others, there can be no civil society. For want of it, in this year, 1770, we are on the point of anarchy among ourselves, or of slavery to sorae foreign power. But is it not enough to conceive and utter rebellion against the state? Must we also call in question the providence and govern raent of God ? In raaking tbese reflections I grow sick, while under that, which gives occasion to them, the nation sickens too, but without reflection. Having delivered my sentiments, and finished the rea sonings, on which they are grounded in my weak under standing ; I shall conclude wifch two or three observations. There are raen who conceitedly square every thing by the extent of their own capacities, which they are not apt to under-rate. As often as any two propositions do but seem to contradict each other, although each hath been deraon- strably proved, the casuists I ara speaking of, do not hesi tate a moment to pronounce one of them false. This they do in regard to the doctrine of the Trinity. This they do in regard to the foreknowledge and decrees of God, onthe one band, and the raoral freedora of raan, on the other. Hence sorae, taking the side of foreknowledge and decrees, have denied the existence of created spirits, raade raere raachines and necessary agents of all men, and consequently ascribed their vices, as well as virtues, to God alone. Others, adopt ing the raoral liberty of angels and raen, have undeified the Infinite Being by limiting his knowledge, and charging him with the creation of a world, whereof he knew not the grand result. They do not consider these two propositions, God foreknew every thing, and, man is raorally free, but as op posites ; nor reflect, that although to a bounded under standing they raay seera irreconcilable, yet in that of God they raay raost easily consist with each other. Hence a large book to prove the great truths of divine foreknowledge and predestination, and to run down the raoral freedora of men and angels. Hence too another, as large, to prove the important truth of raoral freedom in both these ranks of REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. 477 agents, and to refute the doctrines of foreknowledge and predestination. In these tiraes of raore candour, I have ven tured to assert and prove bofch fchose seeraingly contradictory doctrines ; and, for the sake of raany good Christians, who have often, in conversation, put rae on these subjects, and still reraain bewildered, I have attempted to shew how far we may proceed towards a reconciliation ofthe great truths in question, and where we ought to rest our inquiries, as in points above our comprehension, which indeed every thing else is, if pursued beyond our abilities and wants. Were we to clirab up into the highest heavens, we should not be able to coraprehend the raysteries of mercy, revealed in the work of our redeinption and salvation, but still re vealed as raysteries, to be partly known, and partly believed. Or were we to dive into tbe deepest hell, we should never be able to coraprehend the raysteries of justice threatened, but still threatened as mysteries, in the punishment of the guilty, which we can only conceive in part, and believe in part. All true religion, rightly understood, takes its rise frora predestination, rightly understood. On the part of God, what is true religion, but that immense plan, whereby, ere the world was made, he purposed to create and govern all things ? Every act of his providence, the paradisaical state, the first and second covenant, the judgment to come, were predetermined. These predeterminations, all of them just and good, were founded on infinite and perfect knowledge, which could not have been either infinite or perfect, if all was not perfectly and certainly foreseen. On the part of man, all fcrue religion is founded on such knowledge of God and his will, as man can acquire, and on faifch, where know ledge fails. To man fcoo, as a necessary parfc of rehgion, a foreknowledge of such events as concern him raost, i« iraparted ; and on these two is erected the predestination or predetermination freely made in fche breast of every Christian, to keep the covenant between God and his soul, to lead, as far forth as he is able, a new and holy fife ; and to stand issue at the last day for all the thoughts, words, and actions of that hfe. On these terms, as not only just, but good and gracious also, every behever freely embraces the covenant, in his judgment, an infinite and wholly un deserved benefit. 478 REFLECTIONS ON PREDESTINATION. I heartily wish, all the divines and casuists, who have heretofore handled these, and the like topics, had been blessed with ray narrowness of capacifcy, and fche mean opi nion I have of it. Had this been the case, every one would have been content to take a doctrine on God's word : no raysteries of raan's inventions had been added to those of God's revealing ; no heresies, no schisms, no animosities had ever disturbed the church of God, or exposed it to the ridicule of infidels ; no religious subtleties, in short, had staggered the faith of one, and turned the head of another. It was a vicious love of women that brought Solomon, the wisest of raen, on his knees to a plurality of gods. And what but an equally vicious conceit of his own understand ing could have brought Sir Isaac Newton, that exalted ge nius in raatheraatical and natural knowledge, to a belief in, and adoration of, a like plurality ? How poor, how vain, how despicable is the understanding of man, particularly in religious matters, when not submitted to the wisdom of God ! How admirably does the Spirit of God defend us in this in stance, against the poison of error, gilded by the lustre ofa great narae ! ' I will destroy the wisdora of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world ? Hath not God raade foolish the wisdora of this world ? For after that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by tbe foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe. The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. You see that not many wise raen after fche flesh, nofc raany mighty, nofc many noble are called. But God hath chosen the foolish things ofthe world fco confound fche wise ; and God hafch chosen fche weak fchings of fche world, to confound the things that are raighty ; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are ; that no flesh should glory in his presence.' It bath been proraised, that we ' shall be all taught of God.' This proraise hath been raost araply fulfilled. What need we then, or how dare we heap to ourselves other teachers, who although they are called great raen by their disciples, what are they to the great God ? Or what raust he be, who prefers thera ? A SUMMARY OF RELIGION, IN SEVENTEEN PROPOSITIONS. Religious controversies ought to be short. A POINT not worth deciding, ought not to be debated. No religious point is worth deciding, if all raankind are not con cerned to know it, as a poinfc of some importance to their happiness. Such points ought to be examined by few argu ments, and those arguraents couched in few, intelligible, and precise terras. Many words dissipate the force of an argument, in regard to the understanding, bewildered as in a wood ; and besides, give unnumbered handles to sophistical replies, and those to as many, and equally sophistical rejoinders, which changes the controversy, frora an inquiry about the point in view,to a corabat between the controvertists, not for truth,-but victory. Led away by the coraraon practice, I have written a great deal on religious controversies ; but now that time and experience have let rae see, how vain and fruitless this method generally proves, and how much raore decisive, one good argument, reduced to half a dozen words, is found to be, I will here endeavour to banish all disputes about re ligion by urging one arguraent or two, in the briefest raanner I can, on each debated article, of iraportance enough to all mankind, to merit a discussion. Proposition I. There is a God. The world could not bave made itself, yet was made, for it discovers infinite power and wisdom in its origin and ar chitecture. It was therefore raade by a being of such power and wisdom, who was from eternity, and unmade, for such a being could not have been made by himself, nor by another, for was he made by another, that other raust be author ofall' things, and the God whose being I would prove. Proposition II. There is but one God. The world could not have been raade, but by a Being of infinite and unlimited power and wisdom. To create a worid 480 A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. out of nothing requires infinite unliraited power; and to raake it in the raanner ifc is raade, requires infinifce unliraited wisdora. Now to suppose the possibility of two, or raore, such beings, is contradictory to itself. Two beings cannot, each of thera, have all power and wisdora ; but he who hath not all power, is not infinitely powerful, nor is he infinitely wise, who hath not all wisdoin. God saith, ' I ara the first, and I am the last, and beside me there is no God, I know not any.' To make this last a good proof, I maintain that. Proposition III. God hath made a revelation of himself, and of the true religion, wherein this assertion of God himself is contained. Religion was frora the beginning necessary to mankind, who cannot subsist out of society, nor in society without re ligion, nor well in society without true religion ; therefore the good and beneficent God gave to raankind a true religion, but not by the light of nature alone, for this hath every where failed to teach it, even among those who had the be nefit of sorae instruction. If a true religion was given to raankind, ifc raust have been given by divine revelation to huraan reason as a recipient, not an original fountain of re ligious light. This revelation was fully proved to corae from God by such predictions as nothing but infinite wisdom could utter, and such wonders, as nothing but infinite power could perform. The religion thus revealed, together with the proofs of its divine origin and authority, may be seen in the holy Bible ; a book written by God hiraself. If herein the true religion raay not be found, necessary as the true religion is, there is no true religion to be found araong raankind. That the wonders and rairacles therein said to be wrought, were actually and really wrought, we have fche afctestation of raany who saw thera wrought, and died fco prove fche veracity ofthat afcfcesfcafcion. The antiquity of the predictions is in disputable, and their truth, as the effect of divine foreknow ledge, is raade also incontestible by the corapletion of raany such predictions, exhibited at this very time in our sight, or to our knowledge. Proposition IV. Paganism cannot be the true religion . For it sets forth raany gods, all of thera, raore or less weak, foolish, or wicked. A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. 481 Proposition V. Manicheeism cannot be the true religion. For it sets up two eternal, independent Beings, contrary to proposition the second, and ascribes darkness, wickedness, and consequently weakness or defect, to one of them ; and yet ascribes the creation of matter, which is an effect of al mighty power, to that very Being. Proposition VI. Mahometism cannot be the true religion. For it indulges lust, rapine, and slaughter, to its disciples, and proposes to gratify the desire of these as its grand re ward or sanction. A deceitful and bloody impostor, not the good God, was its author. Proposition VII. Judaism is not the true religion. For the pentateuch and prophecies, on which ifc resfcs, set it forth as only a temporary, a preparatory, a typical, and national dispensation ; fix the liraits ofits duration, andrefer' its professors to the Messiah, as the end of the law, and as one who should appear under the second teraple, and give to all nations the true and perfect religion. The Jews, blinded by, and bigoted to, the shadow, rejected the sub stance, to which the shadow had been superadded only under the law, for Christianity was frora the beginning. Proposition VIII . Jesus is the Messiah or Christ, and his re ligion the true and universal religion. Ere that teraple was destroyed, and at the very tirae and place foretold by the prophets, a person appeared, who filled all the prophetic characters of the Messiah, wrought innu merable rairacles himself, and by his disciples, and gave to the world a religion, worthy of God, and productive of human reforraation and happiness. And that this religion raight not in after ages be lost, or corrupfced by fche fancies or in terests of bad men, he caused it to be faithfully recorded, to gether with a succinct history of his transactions here on earth, in the writings of the New Testamenfc. Hira the Jews crucified, and to this day do every thing in their power to oppose and suppress his religion ; whereby, throughout all the nations of the earth, wherein they are dispersed, they, as eneraies, attest the truth and genuineness of those pro VOL. in. 2 I 482 A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. phecies*, which foretel both the Messiah and his religion, and likewise their blind apostacy from the obvious meaning of those prophecies, their dispersion over all nations, and the use made by Providence of their infidelity to prove and spread the universal religion. The religion of the Bible, or holy Scriptures, appears, from this short chain of reasoning to be the true, or universal religion, which we its professors call, Christianity, from the name, or rather title of its blessed author, which is the sarae in Greek with the Hebrew word, Messiah, and signifies, anointed. The divinely inspired Scriptures, particularly fhose of the New Testaraent, are the word of God himself, who therein teaches his readers, what they are to believe and do, in order to a thorough reformation of their lives, and their everlasting happiness. Huraility and attention are ne cessary to a profitable perusal of these books ; nor is it less necessary, that we should understand thera in the most plain, coramon, and obvious meaning of the words, their author havdng written them for all mankind. For want of this hu mility, attention, and simplicity of understanding, it hath happened, that the vain, the cursory, the subtle, the wicked readers of Scripture, have laboured to graft their own erro neous and wicked opinions on the word of God, and, by forced interpretations of that sacred book, often given those opinions an appearance of Christian truth, though very re mote from it, or repugnant to it. Hence infinite arguraents and disputes, which expose true religion to the raockery of infidels, and often sap the faith of its professors. And hence such animosity and hatred araong Christians, and such a spirit of persecution in sorae towards others, as is the very reverse of that love or charity, which is placed by Christ at the head of all Christian virtues. That well raeaning raen, at least, raay no longer draw error frora the source of truth ; nor hatred from the fountain of love ; nor confusion from the dictates of infinite wisdom and order ; I will take the liberty to reduce the reigning controversies araong Chris tians, each bf them, to the short issue of a single point, decided by a text or two, of God's word. They who will not be convinced or concluded by God's own word, they themselves acknowledging it to be his word, are not likely to be concluded by long and dissipated reasonings of men. A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. 483 Proposition IX. Christ is God. If Christ is God, he is, by proposition the second, the one only God, for there is but one God. That Christ is God is plain from John i. 1—3. 'In the beginning was the Word,andthe Word was with God, and theWord (i.e. Christ) was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by hira (Chrisfc) and wifchout him was not any thing raade that was raade.' Rora. ix. 5, ' Christ who is over all, God blessed for ever,' There are a great nura ber of other texts thafc asserfc fche true and real Deity of Christ, and in no one text is it once said, that Christ is not God. Proposition X. The Holy Ghost is God. If the Holy Ghost is God, he is, by proposition the se cond, the one only God, for there is but one God. That he is God is evident, from his being called, Rom. xv. 19, by way of distinction from all other spirits, ' the Spirit of God ;' and Heb. ix. 14, ' the eternal Spirit.' ' He who lies to him, lies to God ;' Acts v. 3, 4. Proposition XI. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, are one. For we are baptized into the joint name (which can be no other than God), or into the joint authority (which can be no other than equal) of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and that by the express appointraent of Christ, with a de claration frora hiraself, fchafc whosoever believefch and is bap- fcized (afc leasfc infco this faith) shall be saved ; and whosoever shall not believe (at least thus rauch) shall be daraned. Proposition XII. They are not to be listened to, but with horror, who say there are three gods. For it hath been proved, proposition the second, and is the foundation principle ofthe Bible, and of alltrue religion, that there is one only God. Whosoever therefore asserts, as the Arians do, that there is one suprerae God, and two in ferior, created, or delegated gods, naraely Christ, and the Holy Ghost, directly contradicts the word and assertion of God himself, and is guilty of horrible blasphemy. 2 I 2 484 A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. Proposition XIII. We have remission of sins through faith in the blood and death of Christ. 'We all bave sinned — but are justified freely by the grace of God, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ ; whom God hath set forth,' or fore-ordained, ' to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, and to declare his righteousness for the reraission of sins that are past ;' Rom. iii. 23 — 25. ' He (Christ) his own self bear our sins in his body on the tree ;' 1 Pet. ii. 24. ' Christ was once offered to bear the sins of raany ;' Heb. ix. 28- ' Christ hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that be might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh ;' 1 Pet. iii. IS. Proposition XIV. Yet we are by no means to imagine that good works are needless. ' For faitii without works is dead ;' Janies ii. 20. ' Bring forth works raeet for repentance;' Matt. iii. 8. 'This is a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm con stantly, tbat they which have believed in God, might be careful to raaintain good works ;' Tit. iii. 8. Proposition XV. He is not to be listened to, but with abhor rence, who proudly pretending to supremacy over the whole church of Christ, and infallibility, dictates any thing contrary to the word of God. ' You know,' saith Christ, ' that they which are accounted to rule over the Gentiles, exercise lordship over them, but so shall it not be araong you ;' Mark x,. 42, 43. ' Feed,' saith St, Peter, 1 Pet. v. 2, 3, ' the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint but willingly; not for filthy lucre,, but of a ready mind; neither as being lords over God's heritage.' Yet the pope of Rorae is styled by his abettors, and styles hiraself, uni versal bishop, head, and lord over God's whole inheritance on earth. God saith, ' Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven iraage. Thou shalt not bow down to it, nor worship it ;' Exod. xx. 4, 5. Bnt the pope saith, ye shall have graven images in the church. Ye shall bow down to thera, and worship thera. Christ saith, giving the eucha ristical cup to his disciples, ' Drink ye all of it ;' Matt xxvi. 27. But the pope saith, the laity shall not drink of it! A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. 485 Christ saith, John v. 39, ' Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life.' But the pope saith, ye shall not read the Scriptures, unless I please to give you a special licence so to do. With this church no man can coraraunicate without rebelling against God, in obedience to the pope. Proposition XVI, But wherever we are, we ought to commu nicate with the national established church, if it affords us every thing made necessary to our salvation by the word of God, and enjoins nothing contrary to the same. Such always ought to be the rule of coraraunion and uniformity, wherein God the author of peace and love re joices. To charity, every thing but truth, should be post poned. Our holy religion is light and love. If we are so divided, that we cannot enter one house, nor surround one table of the Lord, how can we with one raind, and one mouth glorify God ? Rom. xv. 6. Sfc. Paul, writing to the Corinthians, 1 Cor. i. 10, having observed that they were divided, and followed different teachers or leaders, saith, ' I beseech you, brethren, by the narae of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no di visions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined toge ther in the same raind, and in the same judgment,' He says again to the same Corinthians, 'Be of one mind, live in peace ; and the God of love and peace shall be with you ;' 2 Cor, xiii. II. To the Philippians he saith, 'Let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ, that I may hear ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind, striving together for the faith of the gospel;' Phil. i. 27. Amidst religious differences charity is always lost, and the more unhappily, as the causes of difference are of the less rao ment, for in this case nothing but hatred and animosity can create and keep up the schism. Like the quarrels of bro thers, the disputes araong Christians about sraaller matters, when they agree in essentials, are always carried on with uncommon heart-burnings, Schismatical dissentions ar6^ nothing else, but quarrels. There a spirit of party, wholly alien from the Spirit of Christ, governs all ; and reason is no more heard than charity is felt, no more indeed than in the contentions of froward children. As members of one body in Christ, we ought not surely to differ or dissent from 486 A SUMMARY OF RELIGION, one another, on any account, much less on account of such things as do not interfere with the means of our salvation. Thus surely thought St, Paul, when he said to the Colossians, Col. iii. 14, 15, ' Above all these things (things of high imporfc indeed, which he had just before recommended to them), put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness ; and let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body. Proposition XVII, Divine inspiration without miracles to prove it in him who pretends to it, is either delusion or hypocrisy. All the real messages sent by Almighty God to man kind, have been authenticated as his by tbe power of work ing miracles, given to the messengers for thafc very purpose. Such hath always been his gracious manner of dealing by us his rational creatures, to prevent a too easy credulity, and deception in matters of religion. Of him therefore, who says, he is inspired with more than the ordinary gifts of God's Holy Spirit, and on the strength of this pretence takes upon him to deliver any raessage from God, miracles should always be demanded. If he only delivers what hath been already delivered in tbe word of God, there is bere no necessity for either inspiration or rairacles, they having been long ago afforded for the establishraent of all truths so de livered. But if the message appears to be new, then mira cles are absolutely necessary to vouch it ; or if contradictory to the Scriptures, then no rairacles can prove it to corae from God, for nothing can prove that God hath contradicted him self, A man inspired, must be ' a man approved of God by wonders,' Acts ii, 22, or to what purpose serves his inspira tion ? There was all the reason in the world, that tbe Corin thians should give heed and faith fco the preaching of St, Paul, for ' truly the signs of an apostle were wrought among them, in all patience, in signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds,' 2 Cor. xii. 12. The salvation, preached at first by our Lord, was reported by those who heard him, ' God bear ing them witness with signs, and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost,' Heb. ii, 4. Tbis having been his constant method, it is not to be supposed, without extreme absurdity, that he should, in these days. A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. 487 expect our faith in new doctrines, on other, or less evidence. No protestations of any man that he feels the inspiration within him, no eloquence, no canting, foaming, bellovring, is to pass on a rational hearer for sufficient vouchers in this case; but must be considered as whimsical or hypocritical substitutes in the absence of more genuine signs and attes tations, especially if the preachers of new doctrines, or the ringleaders of upstart sects, should take upon them to de cry the plain institutions or doctrines of holy Scripture, for instance, should annul the sacraraents, or deny the ne cessity of good works. When Christ's own institutions are abolished under pretence of a new inspiration, that inspira tion must prove itself, not only as a reality, but as proceeding frora God, by raore rairaculous evidence, than that which Chrisfc exhibited to attest his authority in the appointraent of those institutions. In like raanner, if any raan insists, that salvation is the produce or effect of good works only, and not of faith, he flatly contradicts the word of God, who saith, ' By grace ye are saved through faith;' Eph. ii. 8. ' The just shall live by faith,' Gal. iii. 11, Or on the other hand, if any raan shall say, that good works, are not neces sary in him who hath an opportunity of performing them, and that we are to be saved by faith without works, he flatly contradicts the word of God, who saith by St. James, ' Faith without works is dead,' James ii. 20. What inspiration, what rairacles, can prove such doctrines as these ? Faith in God through Christ is the iraraediate organ, the necessary instrument of our salvation. But I deny the very existence and possibility of a saving faith, which is not productive of good works. I deny also, that actions, though right in themselves, are ever done, in a raanner, and on raotives acceptable to God, when no regard to God is had in doing them, nor to the obligations laid on us by the principles of faith and true religion. Thus, I hurably apprehend, all controversies about re ligion ought to be handled, and thus raay be soon and easily decided araong the candid inquirers after truth. Among such as dispute about rehgion from any other raotive, than a love of truth, neither this shorfc raefchod, nor that pursued through a thousand folios on each side, will produce any thing but error and ill nature. If I have here left out any point of importance, which ought to have been proved, it is 488 A SUMMARY OF RELIGION. owing either to my inadvertence, or my mistaking such point for a matter of little moment. And if I have not fully proved the truth of any one proposition among those laid down, the failure is owing to my weakness, not to the want of arguments sufficient to deraonstrate that proposition. I may have pitched upon a weaker argument, when a stronger might have been chosen, had it occurred ; or I may have put the argument I did choose in a weaker light than it might have been put; but these defects are to be charged on me, not on my method, which, if rightly managed, might give an easy, short, and decisive solution to all the leading con troversies araong us on religious subjects. Since longer methods have been tried with very ill success, let this short one have a trial too, which will prevent abundance of trouble, if it does no more, and, at worst, will leave the point in question where it found it, without adding, as hath been unhappily the case, a number of new-invented difficulties, generated by the vague reasonings, or rather imaginations, of pretenders to knowledge, who in a fog of their own sub tleties and refineraents, for the raost part, lose sight of even the question originally started, and alraost always of the truth. If however I bave done nothing else in fchis afcfcempt, I have, at least, drawn a line across the wood of contro versies, which if followed by a sincere inquirer, will give regularity, precision, and it is hoped, stability, to his pro gress in religious knowledge. It will be easily observed, that this my line leads di rectly into the church, whereof I am a member. True, and did it lead into any other, I should instantly be a member ofthat other. Few men, now alive, bave with raore candour and diligence, through a long course of reading, disputing, meditating, sought for religious truth, than I have done ; at the end whereof, I now solemnly call God to witness, that the Christian religion appears to my understanding the only religion of God, and the national church, wherein I most im perfectly endeavour to serve him, the single church on earth, wherein be may be served most agreeably to his word, and with the greatest safety to the soul of his rational servant. END OF VOL. HI. Printed by J. F. Dove, St. Jolm's Square. '? .-^^-^r > 35., J" ¦H^^^fe ^^•^?/ l^^ ?.-^v-'- ^^ "-'¦ -^ >-»¦¦¦ ;>;- .:3 .fe->T!l -C'^.fg ^^¦^ i*J«»l '«— rrra