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SERMONS 


ON 


SEVERAL  SUBJECTS. 


FA  1  EV 


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SERMONS 

1 


ON 


SEVERAL  SUBJECTS. 


BY  THE  LATE 


REV.  WILLIAM  ^ALEY,  D.  D. 

SUBDEAN  OF  LINCOLN,  PREBENDARY  OF  ST.  PAUL'S  AND 
RECTOR  OP  BISHOP  WEARMOUTH. 


PRINTED  FOR  HOPKINS  AND  EARLE,  PHILADELPHIA- 

AND  FARRAND,  MALLORY  AND  CO.  BOSTON. 

Fry  and  Kammerer,  Printers, 

1808. 


4-6 


n  ^^3VJ^ 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

The  author  of  these  Sermons,  by  a  codicil  to  his 
Will,  declared  as  follows: — "If  my  life  had  been 
spared,  it  was  my  intention  to  have  printed  at  Sunder- 
land a  Volume  of  Sermons — about  500  copies;  and  I 
had  proceeded  so  far  in  the  design  as  to  have  tran- 
scribed several  Sermons  for  that  purpose,  which  are 
in  a  parcel  by  themselves.  There  is  also  a  parcel  from 
which  I  intended  to  transcribe  others ;  but  the  whole 
is  in  an  unfinished  state,  the  arrangement  is  not  set- 
tled, and  there  are  many  things  which  might  be 
omitted,  and  others  which  may  be  altered  or  consoli- 
dated." The  codicil  then  goes  on  to  direct,  that, 
after  such  disposition  should  have  been  made  re- 
specting the  Maimscripts  as  might  be  deemed  ne- 
cessary, they  should  be  printed  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ste- 
phenson, at  the  expense  of  the  testator's  executors, 
and  distributed  in  the  neighbourhood,  first  to  those 
who  frequented  church,  then  to  farmers'  families  in 
the  country,  then  to  such  as  had  a  person  in  the 
family  who  could  read,  and  were  likely  to  read  them ; 
and  finally,  it  is  added,  "  I  would  not  have  the  said 
Sermons  published  for  sale." 


vi  ADVERTISEMENf. 

In  compliance  with  this  direction,  the  following 
Sermons  were  selected,  printed  and  distributed  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Stephenson,  in  and  about  the  parish  of 
Bishop  Wearmouth,  in  the  year  1806. 

These  Discourses  were  not  originally  composed 
for  publication,  but  were  written  for,  and,  as  appears 
by  the  Manuscripts,  had  been  preached  at  the  Parish 
Churches  of  which,  in  different  parts  of  the  author's 
life,  he  had  the  care.  It  was  undoubtedly  the  author's 
intention  that  they  should  not  have  been  published ; 
but  the  circulation  of  such  a  number  as  he  had 
directed  by  his  will  to  be  distributed,  rendered  it 
impossible  to  adhere  to  the  other  part  of  his  direc- 
tion ;  and  it  was  found  necessary  to  publish  them,  as 
the  only  means  of  preventing  a  surreptitious  sale. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  I. 

Seriousness  in  Religion  indispensable  above  all  other 
Dispositions. 

Page. 
I  Peter,  iv.  7.  Be  ye  there/ore  sober ^  and  watch  itnto  firayer  .  .   17 

SERMON  II. 

The  Love  of  God. 
1  John,  iv.  19.   We  love  hiniy  because  hejirst  loved  its 37 

SERMON  in. 

Meditating  upon  Religion. 

Psalm  Ixiii.  7.  Have  I  not  remembered  thee  in  my  bed;  and  thougli'u 
nfion  thee  when  I  was  waking? 49 

SERMON  IV. 

Of  the  State  after  Death. 

i  John,  iii.  2.  Beloved.,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God;  and  it  dotfi 
not  yet  apfiear  what  we  shall  be:  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall 
appear,  we  shall  be  like  him;  for  tve  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  .  .    58 


viii  CONTENTS 

SERMON  V. 

On  Purity  of  the  Heart  and  Affections. 

1  John,  iii.  2,  3.  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God;  and  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be:  but  we  know  that,  when  he  shall 
appear,  we  shall  be  like  him;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  .And 
every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  him  purifieth  himself,  even  as  he 
is  pure. 68 

SERMON  VI. 

On  Taste  for  Devotion. 

John,  iv.  2S,  24.  But  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the  true 
worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth:  for 
the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him.  God  is  a  spirit;  and  they 
that  worship  him,  must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  .     77 

SERMON  VII. 

Of  the  Doctrine  of  Conversion. 

Matthew,  ix.  13.  I  am  not  come  to  call  the  righteous,  biit  sinners 
to  repentance 93 

SERMON  VIII. 

Prayer  in  Imitation  of  Christ. 

Luke,  V.  16.  And  he  nrnthdreit)  himself  into  the  wilderness  and 
prayed, 110 


CONTENTS.  ix 

SERMON  IX. 

On  Filial  Piety. 

Genesis,  xlvii.  12.  Jlnd  Josefih  nourished  his  father  and  his  breth- 
ren, and  all  his  father's  household,  with  bread,  according  to  their 
families 117 

SERMON  X. 

To  think  less  of  our  Virtues  and  more  of  our  Sins. 

(part  I.) 

Psahn  li.  3.  My  sin  is  ever  before  me 126 

SERMON  XI. 

(part  II.) 1.39 

SERMON  XII. 

Salvation  for  Penitent  Sinners. 

Luke,  vii.  47.  Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  her  sins,  'which  are  many, 
are  forgiven;  for  she  loved  much 153 

SERMON  XIII. 

Sins  of  the  Fathers  upon  the  Children. 

Exodus,  XX.  5.  Thou  shalt  not  bonv  down  thyself  to  them,  nor  serve 
them:  For  I  the  Lord  thy  God,  am  a  jealous  God,  visiting  the 
iniquityofthefathf-r-s  ujion  the  children  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation  of  them  that  hate  me 160 

B 


X  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XIV. 

How  Virtue  produces  Belief,  and  Vice  Unbelief. 

John,  vii.  17.  If  any  man  tvill  do  his  wilt,  he  shall  know  of  (he  doc- 
trine, whether  it  be  of  God 169 

SERMON  XV. 

John's  Message  to  Jesus. 

Matthew,  xi.  2,  3.  JVbw  when  John  had  heard  m  prison  the  works 
of  Christ,  he  sent  two  of  his  discifiles,  and  said  unto  hiin,  art  thou 
he  that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for  another? 1 80 

SERMON  XVI. 

On  Insensibility  to  Offences. 

Psalm  xix.  12,  13.  Who  can  tell  how  oft  he  offendeth?  0  cleanse 
thou  me  from  my  secret  faults.  Kee/i  thy  servant  also  from  pre^ 
sumptuous  sins,  lest  they  get  the  do?7iinion  over  me 189 

SERMON  XVII. 

Seriousness  of  Disposition  necessary. 

Luke,  viii.  15.  But  that  on  the  good  ground  are  they,  who  in  an 
honest  and  good  heart,  having  heard  the  word,  keep  it,  and  bring 
forth  fruit  with  patience 197 


CONTENTS.  xi 

SERMON  XVIII. 

The  Efficacy  of  the  death  of  Christ. 

(part  I.) 

Hebrews,  ix.  26.  JVoiv  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  heapjieai' 
ed  to  fnU  away  sin  by  the  sacrijice  of  himself. 206 

SERMON  XIX. 

All  stand  in  need  of  a  Redeemer. 

(part  II.) 

Hebrews,  ix.  26.  JVow  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  he  afifiear- 
ed  to  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself 214 

SERMON  XX. 

The  Efficacy  of  the  Death  of  Christ  consistent  with  the  Ne- 
cessity of  a  Good  Life ;  the  one  being  the  Cause,  the  other 
the  Condition  of  Salvation. 

Romans,  vi.  1.  What  shall  we  say  then?  shall  we  continue  in  sin, 
that  grace  may  abound?  God  forbid 223 

SERMON  XXI. 

Pure  Religion. 

James,  i.  27.  Pure  religion,  and  undeflcd  before  God  and  the  Fa- 

0  ther  is  this,  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction^ 

and  to  keefi  hiinself  unspotted  from  the  world 235 


xii  CONTENTS 

SERMON  XXII. 

The  Agency  of  Jesus  Christ  since  his  Ascension. 

Hebrews,  xiii.  8.  Jesus  Christ  the  same  yesterday^  to  day  and  for 
ever 244 

SERMON  XXIII. 

Of  Spiritual  Influence  in  general. 

(part  I.) 

I  Corinthians,  iii.  16.  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temtile  of  God, 
iond  that  the  Spirit  of  God  dnvelleth  in  you? 260 

SERMON  XXIV. 

(part  II.) 268 

SERMON  XXV. 

(part  III.) 278 

SERMON  XXVI. 

Sin  encountered  by  Spiritual  Aid. 

(part  I.) 

Romans,  vii.  24.  O  wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death? 291 


t:ONTENTS  <lil 

SERMON  XXVII. 
Evil  Propensities  encountered  by  the  Aid  of  the  Spirit. 

(part  II.) 

Romans,  vii.  24.   O  ivretched  7nan  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  tne 
froiu  (he  body  of  this  death? 299 

SERMON  XXVIII. 

The  Aid.  of  the  Spirit  to  be  sought  and  preserved  by 
Prayer. 

(part  III.) 

Romans,  vii.  24.   O  wretched  man  that  I a?n!  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death? 306 

SERMON  XXIX. 

The  Destruction  of  the  Canaanites. 

Joshua,  X.  40.  So  Joshua  smote  all  the  country  of  the  hills,  and  of 
the  south,  and  of  the  vale,  and  of  the  sfirings,  and  all  their  kings: 
he  left  none  remaining,  but  utterly  destroyed  all  that  breathed,  as 
the  Lord  God  of  Israel  com?nanded 316 

SERMON  XXX. 

Neglect  of  Wai-nings. 

Deuteronomy,  xxxii.  29.  O  that  they  were  wise  that  they  under- 
stood this;  that  (heu  would  consider  their  latter  end!  .....    327 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XXXI. 

The  Terrors  of  the  Lord. 

Matthew,  xvi.  26.  What  is  a  man  profited  if  he  shall  gaiti  the  whole 
world  and  lose  his  own  soul?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul? 335 

SERMON  XXXII. 
Preservation  and  Recovery  from  Sin. 

Titus,  ii.  11.  12.  For  the  grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation  hath 
apfieared  unto  all  men,  teaching  us,  that  denying  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously  and  godly  in 
this  present  world 346 

SERMON  XXXIII. 

This  Life  a  State  of  Probation. 

Psalm  cxix.  71.  It  is  good  for  me  that  I  have  been  affticted,  that  I 
might  learn  thy  statutes 360 

SERMON  XXXIV. 

7"ne  Knowledge  of  one  another  in  a  future  State. 

Colossians,  i.  28.  Whom  we  fir  each,  warning  every  man,  and 
teaching  every  man  in  all  wisdom:  that  we  may  present  every 
man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus 370 


CONTENTS.  XV 

SERMON  XXXV. 

The  General  Resurrection. 

John,  V.  28.  29.  The  hour  is  coming,  in  (he  which  all  that  are  in  the 
graves  shall  hear  his  voice,  and  come  forth;  they  that  have  done 
good  unto  the  resurrection  of  life:  and  they  that  have  done  evil, 
unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation 378 


SERMOlSr  I. 

SERIOUSNESS  IN  RELIGION  A  MOST  INDISPENSA- 
BLE DISPOSITION. 

1  Peter,  iv.  7. 
Be  ye  therefore  sober,  and  watch  unto  prayer. 

The  first  requisite  in  religion  is  seriousness.  No  im- 
pression can  be  made  without  it.  An  orderly  life,  so 
far  as  others  are  able  to  observe,  is  now  and  then  pro- 
duced by  prudential  motives  or  by  dint  of  habit ;  but 
without  seriousness  there  can  be  no  religious  principle 
^t  the  bottom,  no  course  of  conduct  flowing  from  reli- 
gious motives;  in  a  word,  there  can  be  no  religion. 
This  cannot  exist  without  seriousness  upon  the  sub- 
ject. Perhaps  a  teacher  of  religion  has  more  difliculty 
in  producing  seriousness  amongst  his  hearers,  than  in 
any  other  part  of  his  oflice.  Until  he  succeed  in  this,  he 
loses  his  labor :  and  when  once,  from  any  cause  what- 
ever, a  spirit  of  levity  has  taken  hold  of  a  mind,  it  is 
next  to  impossible  to  plant  serious  considerations  in 
that  mind.'^It  is  seldom  to  be  done,  except  by  some 
great  shock  or  alarm,  sufficient  to  make  a  radical 
change  in  the  disposition;  and  which  is  God's  own 
way  of  bringing  about  the  business. 

C 


18  SERMON  I. 

One  might  have  expected  that  events  so  a^ful  and 
tremendous,  as  death  and  judgment;  that  a  question  so 
deeply  interesting,  as  whether  we  shall  go  to  heaven  or 
to  hell,  could  in  no  possible  case,  and  in  no  constitution 
of  mind  whatever,  fail  of  exciting  the  most  serious  ap- 
prehension and  concern.  But  this  is  not  so. — In  a 
thoughtless,  a  careless,  a  sensual  world,  many  are  al- 
ways found,  who  can  resist,  and  who  do  resist  the 
force  and  importance  of  all  these  reflections,  that  is  to 
say,  they  suflfer  nothing  of  the  kind  to  enter  into  their 
thoughts.  There  are  grave  men  and  women,  nay,  even 
middle  aged  persons,  who  have  not  thought  seriously 
about  religion  an  hour,  nor  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the 
whole  course  of  their  lives.  This  great  object  of  human 
solicitude  affects  not  them  in  any  manner  whatever. 

It  cannot  be  without  its  use  to  inquire  into  the 
causes  of  a  levity  of  temper,  which  so  effectually  ob- 
structs the  admission  of  every  religious  influence,  and 
which  I  should  almost  call  unnatural. 

1st.  Now  there  is  a  numerous  class  of  mankind,  who 
are  w  rought  upon  by  nothing  but  what  applies  imme- 
diately to  their  senses ;  by  what  they  see  or  by  what 
they  feel ;  by  pleasures  or  pains,  or  by  the  near  pros- 
pect of  pleasures  and  pains  which  they  actually  expe- 
rience or  actually  observe.  But  it  is  the  characteristic  of 
religion  to  hold  out  to  our  consideration  inquiries  which 
we  do  not  perceive  at  the  time.  That  is  its  very  office 
and  province.  Therefore  if  men  will  restrict  and  confine 
all  their  regards  and  all  their  cares  to  things  which  they 
perceive  with  their  outward  senses ;  if  they  will  yield 


SERMON  I.  i9 

up  their  understandings  to  their  senses  both  iu  what 
these  senses  are  fitted  to  apprehend,  and  in  what  the) 
are  not  fitted  to  apprehend,  it  is  utterly  impossible  for 
religion  to  settle  in  their  hearts,  or  for  them  to  enter- 
tain any  serious  concern  about  the  matter.  But  surely 
this  conduct  is  completely  irrational,  and  can  lead  to 
nothing  but  ruin.  It  proceeds  upon  the  supposition, 
that  there  is  nothing  above  us,  about  us  or  future,  by 
which  we  can  be  affected,  but  the  things  which  we  see 
with  our  eyes  or  feel  by  our  touch.  All  which  is  untrue. 
"The  invisible  things  of  God  from  the 
^'Creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen, 

"  BEING  understood  BY  THE  THINGS  THAT  ARE 
*^'sEEN;  even  HIS  eternal  power  AND  GOD- 

"  head;"  which  means,  that  the  order,  contrivance 
and  design,  displayed  in  the  Creation,  prove  with  cer- 
tainty that  there  is  more  in  Nature  than  what  we  really 
see;  and  that  amongst  the  invisible  things  of  the  uni- 
verse there  is  a  Being,  the  author  and  origin  of  all  this 
contrivance  and  design,  and,  by  consequence,  a  Being 
of  stupendous  power,  and  wisdom  and  knowledge, 
incomparably  exalted  above  any  wisdom  or  knowledge, 
which  we  see  in  man,  and  that  he  stands  in  the  same 
relation  to  us  as  the  Maker  does  to  the  thing  made. 
The  things  which  are  seen  are  not  made  of  the  things 
which  do  appear.  This  is  plain:  and  this  argument  is 
independent  of  scripture  and  revelation.  What  further 
moral  or  religious  consequences  properly  follow  from 
it  is  another  question,  but  the  proposition  itself  shows 
that  they  who  cannot,  and  they  who  will  not  raise  their 
ininds  above  the  mere  information  of  their  senses,  arc 


20  SERMON  I. 

ill  a  state  of  gross  error  as  to  the  real  truth  of  things, 
and  are  also  in  a  state  to  which  the  faculties  of  man 
ought  not  to  be  degraded,  A  person  of  this  sortmay  with 
respect  to  religion  remain  a  child  all  his  life.  A  child 
naturally  has  no  concern  but  about  the  things  which 
directly  meet  its  senses ;  and  the  person  we  describe  is 
in  the  same  condition. 

Again:  There  is  a  race  of  giddy  thoughtless  men 
and  women,  of  young  men  and  young  women  more 
especially,  who  look  no  further  than  the  next  day,  the 
next  week,  the  next  month;  seldom  or  ever  so  far  as 
the  next  year. 

Present  pleasure  is  every  thing  with  them.  The 
sports  of  the  day,  the  amusements  of  the  evening,  en- 
tertainments and  diversions  occupy  all  their  concern; 
and  so  long  as  these  can  be  supplied  in  succession,  so 
long  as  they  go  from  one  diversion  to  another,  their 
minds  remain  in  a  state  of  perfect  indifference  to  every 
thing,  except  their  pleasures.  Now  what  chance  has 
religion  with  such  dispositions  as  these?  Yet  these  dis- 
positions begun  in  early  life,  and  favoured  by  circum- 
stances, that  is  by  affluence  and  health,  cleave  to  a 
man's  character  much  beyond  the  period  of  life  in 
which  they  might  seem  to  be  excusable.  Excusable 
did  I  say ;  I  ought  rather  to  have  said  that  they  are 
contrary  to  reason  and  duty  in  every  condition  and  at 
every  period  of  life.  Even  in  youth  they  are  built  upon 
falsehood  and  folly.  Young  persons,  as  well  as  old,  find 
that  things  do  actually  come  to  pass.  Evils  and  mis- 


SERMON  I.  21 

chiefs,  which  they  regarded  as  distant,  as  out  of  their 
view,  as  beyond  the  line  and  reach  of  their  prepara- 
tions or  their  concern,  come  they  find  to  be  actiuill}  felt. 
They  find  that  nothing  is  done  by  slighting  them  be- 
forehand; for  however  neglected  or  despised,  perhaps 
ridiculed  and  derided,  they  come  not  only  to  be  things 
present,  but  the  very  things  and  the  only  things  about 
which  their  anxiety  is  employed;  become  serious 
things  indeed,  as  being  the  things  which  now  make 
them  wretched  and  miserable.  Therefore  a  man  must 
learn  to  be  affected  by  events  which  appear  to  lie  at 
some  distance,  before  he  will  be  seriously  affected  by 
religion. 

Again:  The  general  course  of  education  is  much 
against  religious  seriousness,  even  without  those  who 
conduct  education  foreseeing  or  intending  any  such 
effect.  Many  of  us  are  brought  up  with  this  world  set 
before  us  and  nothing  else.  Whatever  promotes  this 
world's  prosperity  is  praised;  whatever  hurts  and  ob 
§tructs  and  prejudices  this  world's  prosperity  is  blam- 
ed: and  there  all  praise  and  censure  end.  We  see 
mankind  about  us  in  motion  and  action,  but  all  these 
motions  and  actions  directed  to  worldly  oljects.  We 
hear  their  conversation,  but  it  is  all  the  same  way. 
And  this  is  what  we  see  and  hear  from  the  first.  The 
views,  which  are  continually  placed  before  our  eyes, 
regard  this  life  alone  and  its  interests.  Can  it  then  be 
wondered  at  that  an  early  worldly  mindedness  is  bred 
in  our  hearts,  so  strong  as  to  shut  out  heavenly  mind- 
edness entirely?  In  the  contest  which  is  always  carry- 


22  SERMON  I. 

ing  on  between  this  world  and  the  next,  it  is  no 
difficult  thing  to  see  what  advantage  this  Avorld  has. 
One  of  the  greatest  of  these  advantages  is  that  it  pre- 
occupies the  mind;  it  gets  the  first  hold  and  the  first 
possession.  Childhood  and  youth  left  to  themselves  are 
necessarily  guided  by  sense;  and  sense  is  all  on  the 
side  of  this  world. 

Meditation  brings  us  to  look  towards  a  future  life; 
but  then  meditation  comes  afterwards;  it  only  comes 
when  the  mind  is  already  filled,  and  engaged,  and 
occupied,  nay,  often  crowded  and  surcharged  with 
worldly  ideas.  It  is  not  only  therefore  fair  and  right, 
but  is  absolutely  necessary  to  give  to  religion  ail  the 
advantage  we  can  give  it  by  dint  of  education;  for  all 
that  can  be  done  is  too  little  to  set  religion  upon  an 
equality  with  its  rival ;  which  rival  is  the  world.  A  crea- 
ture, which  is  to  pass  a  small  portion  of  its  existence 
in  one  state,  and  that  state  to  be  preparatory  to  another, 
ought,  no  doubt,  to  have  its  attention  constantly  fixed 
upon  its  ulterior  and  permanent  destination.  And  this 
would  be  so,  if  the  question  between  them  came  fairly 
before  the  mind.  We  should  listen  to  the  scriptures; 
we  should  embrace  religion;  we  should  enter  into 
every  thing  which  had  relation  to  the  subject,  with  a 
concern  and  impression,  even  far  more,  than  the  pur- 
suits of  this  world,  eager  and  ardent  as  they  are,  ex- 
cite. 

But  the  question  between  religion  and  the  world 
does  not  come  fairly  before  us.  What  surrounds  us  is 


SERMON  I.  2a 

this  world;  what  addresses  our  senses  and  our  passions 
is  this  world;  what  is  at  hand;  what  is  in  contact  with 
us;  what  acts  upon  us,  what  we  act  upon  is  this  world. 

Reason,  faith  and  hope  are  the  only  principles  to 
which  religion  applies,  or  possibly  can  apply:  and  it  is 
religion,  faith  and  hope  striving  with  sense,  striving 
with  temptation,  striving  for  things  absent  against 
things  which  are  present.  That  religion  therefore  may 
not  be  quite  excluded  and  overborne,  may  not  quite 
sink  under  these  powerful  causes,  every  support  ought 
to  be  given  to  it,  which  can  be  given  by  education,  by 
instruction,  and  above  all,  by  the  example  of  those,  to 
whom  young  persons  look  up,  acting  with  a  view  to  a 
future  life  themselves.  ^ 

Again:  It  is  the  nature  of  worldly  business  of  all 
kinds,  especially  of  much  hurry  or  over-employment, 
or  over-anxiety  in  business,  to  shut  out  and  keep  out 
religion  from  the  mind.  The  question  is,  whether  the 
state  of  mind,  which  this  cause  produces,  ought  to  be 
called  a  want  of  seriousness  in  religion.  It  becomes 
coldness  and  indifference  towards  religion;  but  is  it 
properly  a  \vant  of  seriousness  upon  the  subject?  I 
think  it  is;  and  in  this  way.  We  are  never  serious  upon 
any  matter  which  we  regard  as  trifling.  That  is  impos- 
sible. And  we  are  led  to  regard  a  thing  as  trifling, 
which  engages  no  portion  of  our  habitual  thoughts,  in 
comparison  with  what  other  things  do. 

But  further:  The  world,  even  in  its  innocent  pur- 
suits  and  pleasures,  has  a  tendency  unfavourable  to  the 


24  SERMON  I. 

religious  sentiment.  But  were  these  all  it  had  to  con- 
tend with,  the  strong  application  which  religion  makes 
to  the  thoughts,  whenever  we  think  of  it  at  all;  the 
strong  interest  which  it  presents  to  us,  might  enable  it 
to  overcome  and  prevail  in  the  contest. 

But  there  is  another  adversary  to  oppose  much  more 
formidable;  and  that  is  sensuality;  an  addiction  to  sen- 
sual pleasures.  It  is  the  flesh  which  lusteth 
AGAINST  the  spirit;  that  is  the  war  which  is  waged 
within  us. 

So  it  is,  no  matter  what  may  be  the  Cause,  that  sen- 
sual indulgences,  over  and  above  their  proper  crimi- 
nality, as  sins,  as  offences  against  God's  commands, 
have  a  specific  effect  upon  the  heart  of  man  in  destroy- 
ing the  religious  principle  within  him;  or  still  more 
surely  in  preventing  the  formation  of  that  principle.  It 
either  induces  an  open  profaneness  of  conversation 
and  behaviour,  which  scorns  and  contemns  religion; 
a  kind  of  profligacy,  which  rejects  and  sets  at  nought 
the  whole  thing:  or  it  brings  upon  the  heart  an  averse- 
ness  to  the  subject,  a  fixed  dislike  and  reluctance  to 
enter  upon  its  concerns  in  any  way  whatever.  That  a 
resolved  sinner  should  set  himself  against  a  religion, 
which  tolerates  no  sin,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  He  is 
against  religion,  because  religion  is  against  the  course 
of  life  upon  which  he  has  entered,  and  which  he  does 
not  feel  himself  willing  to  give  up.  But  this  is  not  the 
whole,  nor  is  it  the  bottom  of  the  matter.  The  effect  we 
allude  to  is  not  so  reasoning  or  argumentative  as  tliis.  It 


SERMON  1.  05 

IS  a  specific  effect  upon  the  mind.  The  heart  is  rendered 
unsusceptible  of  relis^ious  impressions,  incapable  of 
a  serious  regard  to  religion:  and  this  effect  belongs  to 
sins  of  sensuality  more  than  to  other  sins.  It  is  a  conse- 
quence which  almost  universally  follows  from  them. 
We  measure  the  importance  of  things,  not  by  what  or 
according  to  what  they  are  in  truth,  but  by  and  accord- 
ing to  the  space  and  room  which  they  occupy  in  our 
minds.  Now  our  business,  our  trade,  our  schemes, 
our  pursuits,  our  gains,  our  losses,  our  fortunes,  pos- 
sessing so  much  of  our  minds,  whether  we  regard  the 
hours  we  expend  in  meditating  upon  them,  or  the  ear- 
nestness with  which  we  think  about  them;  and  religion 
possessing  so  little  share  of  our  thought  either  in  time 
or  earnestness;  the  consequence  is,  that  worldly  inter- 
est comes  to  be  the  serious  thing  with  us;  religion 
comparatively  the  trifle.  Men  of  business  are  naturally 
serious;  but  all  their  seriousness  is  absorbed  by  their 
lousiness.  In  religion  they  are  no  more  serious  than  the 
most  giddy  characters  are;  than  those  characters  are 
"ivhich  betray  levity  in  all  things. 

Again:  The  want  of  due  seriousness  in  religion  is 
almost  sure  to  be  the  consequence  of  the  absence  or 
disuse  of  religious  ordinances  and  exercises.  I  use  two 
terms;  "absence"  and  "disuse."  Some  have  never 
attended  upon  any  religious  ordinances,  or  practised 
any  religious  exercises,  since  the  time  they  were  born; 
some  a  very  few  times  in  their  lives.  With  these  it  is 
the  "  absence"  of  religious  ordinances  and  exercises. 

D 


26  SERMON  I. 

There  are  others,  (and  many  we  fear  of  this  descrip- 
tion) who,  whilst  under  the  guidance  of  their  parents, 
have  frequented  religious  ordinances,  and  been  trained 
up  to  religious  exercises,  but  who,  when  they  came 
into  more  public  life,  and  to  be  their  own  masters,  and 
to  mix  in  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  or  to  engage 
themselves  in  its  business  and  pursuits,  have  forsaken 
these  duties  in  whole  or  in  a  great  degree.  With  these 
it  is  the  "disuse"  of  religious  ordinances  and  exercises. 
But  I  must  also  explain  what  I  mean  by  "  religious  or- 
"  dinances  and  exercises."  By  "  religious  ordinances" 
I  mean  the  being  instructed  in  our  catechism  in  our 
youth,  attending  upon  public  worship  at  church,  the 
keeping  holy  the  Lord's  day  regularly  and  most  par- 
ticularly, together  with  a  few  other  days  in  the  year, 
by  which  some  very  principal  events  and  passages  of 
the  christian  history  are  commemorated,  and  at  its  pro- 
per season  the  more  solemn  office  of  receiving  the 
Lord's  Supper.  These  are  so  many  rites  and  ordi- 
nances of  Christianity;  concerning  all  which  it  may  be 
said,  that  with  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  especially 
of  that  class  of  mankind,  which  must  or  does  give 
much  of  its  time  and  care  to  worldly  concerns,  they 
are  little  less  than  absolutely  necessary;  if  we  judge  it  to 
be  necessary  to  maintain  and  uphold  any  sentiment,  any 
impression,  any  seriousness  about  religion  in  the  mind 
at  all.  They  are  necessary  to  preserve  in  the  thoughts 
a  place  for  the  subject;  they  are  necessary  that  the 
train  of  our  thoughts  may  not  even  be  closed  up 
against  it.  Were  all  days  of  the  week  alike  and  em- 


i'i»i«« 


SERMON  I  27 

ployed  alike;  was  there  no  difference  or  distinction 
between  Sunday  and  work  day;  was  there  not  a  church 
in  the  nation;  were  we  never  from  one  year  end  to  ano- 
ther called  together  to  participate  in  puiilic  worship; 
were  there  no  set  forms  of  public  worship;  no  par- 
ticular persons  appointed  to  minister  and  officiate,  in- 
deed no  assemblies  for  public  worship  at  all;  no  joint 
prayers;  no  preaching;   still  religion,  in  itself,  in  its 
reality  and  importance;  in  its  end  and  event,  would  be 
the  same  thing  as  what  it  is;  we  should  still  have  to 
account  for  our  conduct;  there  would  still  be  heaven 
and  hell;  salvation  and  perdition;  there  would  still  be 
the  laws  of  God  both  natural  and  revealed;  all  the  ob- 
ligation which  the  authorit}-  of  a  Creator  can  impose 
upon  a  creature;  all  the  gratitude  which  is  due  from  a 
rational  being  to  the  Author  and  Giver  of  every  bless- 
ing which  he  enjoys;  lastly,  there  would  still  be  the 
redemption  of  the  world  by  Jesus  Christ.  All  these 
things  would,  with  or  without  religious  ordinances,  be 
equally  real  and  existing  and  valid;   but  men  would 
not  think  equally  about  them.  Many  would  entirely 
and  totally  neglect  them.  Some  there  would  always  be 
of  a  more  devout,  or  serious,  or  contemplative  dispo- 
sition, who  would  retain  a  lively  sense  of  these  things 
under  all  circumstances  and  all  disadvantages,  who 
would  never  lose  their  veneration  for  them,  never  for- 
get them.  But  from  others;  from  the  careless,  the  busy, 
the  followers  of  pleasure,  the  pursuers  of  wealth  or  ad- 
vancement, these  things  would  slip  away  from  the 
thoughts  entirely. 


28  SERMON  I. 

Together  with  rehgious  "ordinances"  we  mentioned 
religious  "exercises."  By  the  term  rehgious  "exer- 
cises" I  in  particular  mean  private  prayer;  whether  it 
be  at  set  times,  as  in  the  morning  and  evening  of  each 
day,  or  whether  it  be  called  forth  by  occasions,  as  when 
we  are  to  form  some  momentous  decision,  or  enter 
upon  some  great  undertaking;  or  when  we  are  under 
some  pressing  difficulty  or  deep  distress,  some  excru- 
ciating bodily  pain,  or  heavy  affliction ;  or  on  the  other 
hand,  and  no  less  properly,  when  we  have  lately  been 
receiving  some  signal  benefit,  experiencing  some  sig- 
nal merc}';  such  as  preservation  from  danger,  relief 
froni  difficulty  or  distress,  abatement  of  pain,  recovery 
from  sickness:  for  by  prayer  let  it  be  observed  we 
mean  devotion  in  general;  and  thanksgiving  is  devo- 
tion as  much  as  prayer  itself.  I  mean  private  prayer, 
as  here  described,  and  I  also  mean,  what  is  perhaps 
the  most  natural  form  of  private  prayer,  short  ejacula- 
tory  extemporaneous  addresses  to  God,  as  often  as 
either  the  reflections  v/hich  rise  up  in  our  minds,  let 
them  come  from  what  quarter  they  may,  or  the  object 
and  incidents  which  seize  our  attention,  prompt  us  to 
utter  them;  which,  in  a  religiously  disposed  mind, 
will  be  the  case,  I  may  say,  every  hour,  and  which 
ejaculation  may  be  ofi'ered  up  to  God  in  any  posture, 
in  any  place  or  in  any  situation.  Amongst  religious 
exercises  I  also  reckon  family  prayer,  which  unites 
many  of  the  uses  both  of  public  worship  and  private 
prayer.  The  reading  of  religious  books  is  likewise  to 
be  accounted  a  religious  exercise.  Religious  medita- 
tion still  more  so;  and  more  so  for  this  reason,  that  it 


SERMON  I.  2f) 

implies  and  includes  tliat  most  important  duty  self- 
examination  ;  for  I  hold  it  to  be  next  to  impossible  for 
a  man  to  meditate  upon  religion  without  meditating  at 
the  same  time  upon  his  own  present  condition  widi 
respect  to  the  tremendous  alternative  which  is  to  take 
place  upon  him  after  his  death. 

These  are  what  we  understand  by  religious  exer- 
cises; and  they  are  all  so  far  of  the  same  nature  with 
religious  ordinances,  that  they  are  aids  and  helps  of 
religion  itself;  and  I  think  that  religious  seriousness 
cannot  be  maintained  in  the  soul  w  ithout  them. 

But  agahi:  A  cause  which  has  a  strong  tendency  to 
destroy  religious  seriousness,  and  which  almost  infal- 
libly prevents  its  formation  and  growth  in  young  minds, 
is  levity  in  conversation  upon  religious  subjects,  or 
upon  subjects  connected  with  religion.  Whether  wc 
regard  the  practice  with  regard  to  those  who  use  it,  or 
to  those  who  hear  it,  it  is  highly  to  be  blamed,  and 
is  productive  of  great  mischief.  In  those  who  use 
it,  it  amounts  almost  to  a  proof  that  they  are  desti- 
tute of  religious  seriousness.  The  principle  itself  is 
destroyed  in  them,  or  was  never  formed  in  them. 
Upon  those  who  hear,  its  effect  is  this.  If  they  have 
concern  about  religion,  and  the  disposition  towards 
religion,  ^vhich  they  ought  to  have,  and  which  we 
signify  by  this  word  seriousness,  they  will  be  in- 
wardly shocked  and  offended  by  the  levity  with  which 
they  hear  it  treated.  They  will,  as  it  were,  resent 
the  treatment  of  a  subject,  which  by  others  has  al- 


30  SERMON  I. 

Ways  been  thought  upon  with  awe  and  dread  and  ve 
neration.  But  the  pain  with  which  they  were  at  first 
affected  goes  off"  by  hearing  frequently  the  same  sort 
of  language;  and  then  will  be  almost  sure,  if  they  ex- 
amine the  state  of  their  minds  as  to  religion,  to  feel  a 
change  in  themselves  for  the  worse.  This  is  the  dan- 
ger to  which  those  are  exposed,  who  had  before  im- 
bibed serious  impressions.  Those  who  had  not  will 
be  prevented  by  such  sort  of  conversation  from  ever 
imbibing  them  at  all;  so  that  its  influence  is  in  all 
cases  pernicious. 

The  turn  which  this  levity  usually  takes,  is  in  jests 
and  raillery  upon  the  opinions,  or  the  peculiarities,  or 
the  persons  of  those,  who  happen  to  be  more  serious 
than  ourselves.  But  against  whomsoever  it  happens  to 
be  pointed,  it  has  the  bad  effects  both  upon  the  speaker 
and  the  hearer  which  we  have  noticed.  It  tends  to  de- 
stroy our  own  seriousness,  together  with  the  serious- 
ness of  those  who  hear  or  join  in  such  sort  of  conver- 
sation ;  especially  if  they  be  young  persons :  and  I  am 
persuaded,  that  much  mischief  is  actually  done  in  this 
way. 

It  has  been  objected,  that  so  much  regard,  or,  as  the 
objectors  would  call  it,  over-regard  for  religion,  is  in- 
consistent with  the  interest  and  welfare  of  our  families, 
and  with  success  and  prosperity  in  our  worldly  affairs, 
I  believe  that  there  is  very  little  ground  for  this  ob- 
jection in  fact,  and  even  as  the  world  goes;  in  reason 
and  principle  there  is  none.  A  good  christian  divides 


SERMON  I.  .31 

his  time  between  the  duties  of  religion,  the  calls  of 
business,  and  those  quiet  relaxations  which  may  be 
innocently  allowed  to  his  circumstances  and  condition, 
and  which  will  be  chiefly  in  his  family  or  amongst  a 
few  friends.  In  this  plan  of  life  there  is  no  confusion 
or  interference  in  its  parts ;  and  unless  a  man  be  given 
to  sloth  and  laziness,  which  are  what  religion  con- 
demns, he  will  find  time  enough  for  them  all.  This 
calm  system  may  not  be  sufficient  for  that  unceasing 
eagerness,  hurry  and  anxiety  about  worldly  affairs,  in 
which  some  men  pass  their  lives,  but  it  is  sufficient 
for  every  thing  which  reasonable  prudence  requires: 
it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  usefulness  in  our  sta- 
tions, which  is  a  main  point.  Indeed,  compare  the 
Jiours  which  serious  persons  spend  in  religious  exer- 
cises and  meditations,  with  the  hours  which  the 
thoughtless  and  irreligious  spend  in  idleness  and  vice 
and  expensive  diversions,  and  you  will  perceive  on 
which  side  of  the  comparison  the  advantage  lies  even 
in  this  view  of  the  subject. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  in  the  nature  of  religion  to 
support  the  objection.  In  a  certain  sense  it  is  true, 
what  has  been  sometimes  said,  that  religion  ought  to 
be  the  yule  of  life,  not  the  business:  by  which  is 
meant  that  the  subject  matter  even  of  religious  duties 
lies  in  the  common  affairs  and  transactions  of  the 
world;  diligence  in  our  calling  is  an  example  of  this; 
which,  however,  keeps  both  our  heads  and  hands 
at  work  merely  upon  business  merely  temporal,  yet 


32  &ERMON  1. 

religion  may  be  governing  us  here  meanwhile;  God 
may  be  feared  in  the  busiest  scenes. 

In  addition  to  the  aboxe  there  exists  another  pre- 
judice against  religious  seriousness  arising  from  a 
notion  very  commonly  entertained,  viz.  that  religion 
leads  to  gloom  and  melancholy.  This  notion,  I  am 
convinced,  is  a  mistake.  Some  persons  are  constitu- 
tionally subject  to  melancholy,  which  is  as  much  a 
disease  in  them  as  the  ague  is  a  disease ;  and  it  may 
happen  that  such  men's  melancholy  may  fall  upon  re- 
ligious ideas,  as  it  may  upon  any  other  subject  which 
seizes  their  distempered  imagination.  But  this  is  not 
religion  leading  to  melancholy :  or  it  sometimes  is  the 
case,  that  men  are  brought  to  a  sense  of  religion  b} 
calamity  and  affliction,  which  produce  at  the  same 
time  depression  of  spirits.  But  neither  here  is  religion 
the  cause  of  this  distress  or  dejection,  or  to  be  blamed 
for  it.  These  cases  being  excepted,  the  very  reverse 
pf  what  is  alleged  against  religion  is  the  truth.  No 
man's  spirtis  were  ever  hurt  by  doing  his  duty.  On 
the  contrary,  one  good  action,  one  temptation  resisted 
and  overcome,  one  sacrifice  of  desire  or  interest, 
purely  for  conscience  sake,  will  prove  a  cordial  for 
weak  and  low  spirits  beyond  what  either  indulgence 
or  diversion  or  company  can  do  for  them.  And  a  suc- 
cession and  course  of  such  actions  and  self  denials, 
springing  from  a  religious  principle  and  manfully 
maintained,  is  the  best  possible  course  that  can  be 
followed  as  a  remedy  for  sinkings  and  oppressions  of 
this  kiad.  Can  it  then  be  true  that  religion  leads  to 


SERMON  I.  33 

melancholy?  Occasions  rise  to  every  man  living;  to 
many  very  severe  as  well  as  repeated  occasions,  in 
which  the  hopes  of  religion  are  the  only  stay  that  is 
left  him.  Godly  men  have  that  within  them  which 
cheers  and  comforts  them  in  their  saddest  hours;  un- 
godly men  have  that  which  strikes  their  heart  like  a 
dagger,  in  their  gayest  moments.  Godly  men  discover, 
what  is  very  true,  but  what,  by  most  men,  is  found 
out  too  late,  namely,  that  a  good  conscience,  and  the 
hope  of  our  Creator's  final  favour  and  acceptance  are 
the  only  solid  happiness  to  be  attained  in  this  world. 
Experience  corresponds  with  the  reason  of  the  thing. 
I  take  upon  me  to  say  that  religious  men  are  generally 
cheerful.  If  this  be  not  observed,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, supposing  it  to  be  true,  it  is  because  the 
cheerfulness  which  religion  inspires  does  not  show 
itself  in  noise,  or  in  fits  and  starts  of  merriment,  but 
is  calm  and  constant.  Of  this  the  only  true  and  valu- 
able kind  of  cheerfulness,  for  all  other  kinds  are  hollow 
and  unsatisfying,  religious  men  possess  not  less  but  a 
greater  share  than  otliers. 

Another  destroyer  of  religious  seriousness,  and 
which  is  the  last  I  shall  mention,  is  a  certain  fatal  turn 
which  some  minds  take,  namely,  that  when  they  find 
difficulties  in  or  concerning  religion,  or  any  of  the 
tenets  of  religion,  they  forthwith  plunge  into  irreli- 
gion;  and  make  these  difficulties,  or  any  degree  of 
uncertainty,  which  seems  to  their  apprehension  to 
hang  over  the  subject,  a  ground  and  occasion  for  giv- 
ing full  libcrtv  to  their  inclinations,  and  for  casting  off 

E 


34  SEKMON  1. 

tke  restraints  of  religion  entirely.  This  is  the  case  with 
men,  who,  at  the  best  perhaps,  were  only  balancing 
between  the  sanctions  of  religion  and  the  love  of  plea- 
sure or  of  unjust  gain;  but  especially  the  former.  In 
this  precarious  state,  any  objection,  or  appearance  of 
objection,  which  diminishes  the  force  of  religious  im- 
pression, determines  the  balance  against  the  side  of 
virtue,  and  gives  up  the  doubts  to  sensuality,  to  the 
world  and  to  the  flesh.  Now  of  all  ways  which  a  man 
can  take,  this  is  the  surest  way  to  destruction.  And 
it  is  completely  irrational ;  for  when  we  meditate  upon 
the  tremendous  consequences  which  form  the  subject 
of  religion,  we  cannot  avoid  this  reflection,  that  any 
degree  of  possibility  whatever,  of  religion  being  true, 
ought  to  determine  a  rational  creature  so  to  act  as  to 
secure  himself  from  punishment  in  a  future  state;  and 
the  loss  of  that  happiness  which  may  be  attained. 
Therefore  he  has  no  pretence  for  alleging  uncertainty 
as  an  excuse  for  his  conduct,  because  he  does  not  act 
in  conformity  with  that  in  which  there  is  no  uncer- 
tainty at  all.  In  the  next  place,  it  is  giving  to  apparent 
difficulties  more  weight  than  they  aj'C  entitled  to.  I 
only  request  any  man  to  consider,  first,  the  necessary 
allowances  to  be  made  for  the  short-sightedness  and 
the  Aveakness  of  the  human  understanding;  secondly, 
the  nature  of  those  subjects  concerning  which  religion 
treats,  so  remote  from  our  senses,  so  diflferent  from 
our  experience,  so  above  and  beyond  the  ordinary 
train  and  course  of  our  ideas;  and  then  say,  whether 
difficulties,  and  great  difficulties  also,  were  not  to  be 
expected;  nay  further,  whether  they  be  not  in  some 


SERMON  I.  35 

measure  subservient  to  the  very  purpose  of  religion. 
The  reward  of  everlasting  life,  and  the  punishment  of 
misery  of  which  we  know  no  end,  if  they  were  present 
and  immediate,  could  not  be  withstood;  and  would 
not  leave  any  room  for  liberty  or  choice.  But  this  sort 
of  force  upon  the  will  is  not  what  God  designed;  nor 
is  suitable  indeed  to  the  nature  of  free,  moral,  and  ac- 
countable agents.  The  truth  is,  and  it  was  most  likely 
beforehand  that  it  would  be  so,  that  amidst  some 
points  which  are  dark,  some  which  are  dubious,  there 
are  many  which  are  clear  and  certain.  Now,  I  appre- 
hend, that,  if  we  act  faithfully  up  to  <hose  points  con- 
cerning which  there  is  no  question,  most  especially, 
if  we  determine  upon  and  choose  our  rule  and  course 
of  life  according  to  those  principles  of  choice,  which 
all  men  whatever  allow  to  be  wise  and  safe  principles, 
and  the  only  principles  which  are  so;  and  conduct 
ourselves  steadfastly  according  to  the  rule  thus  chosen, 
the  difficulties  which  remain  in  religion  will  not  move 
or  disturb  us  much;  and  will,  as  we  proceed,  become 
gradually  less  and  fewer.  Whereas,  if  we  begin  with 
objections;  if  all  we  consider  about  religion  be  its 
difficulties:  but  most  especially,  if  we  permit  the  sug- 
gestion of  these  difficulties  to  drive  us  into  a  practical 
rejection  of  religion  itself,  and  to  afford  us,  which  is 
what  we  wanted,  an  excuse  to  ourselves  for  casting 
off  its  restraints;  then  the  event  will  be,  that  its  diffi- 
culties will  multiply  upon  us;  its  light  grow  more  and 
more  dim,  and  we  shall  settle  in  the  worst  and  most 
hopeless  of  all  conditions,  the  last  condition,  I  will 
venture  to  say,  in  Avhich  any  man  living  would  wish 


36  SERMON  f. 

his  son,  or  any  one  whom  he  loved,  and  for  whose 
happiness  he  was  anxious,  to  be  placed,  a  life  of  con- 
firmed vice  and  dissoluteness;  founded  in  a  formal 
renunciation  of  religion. 

He  that  has  to  preach  Christianity  to  persons  in  this 
state  has  to  preach  to  stones.  He  must  not  expect  to 
be  heard,  either  with  complacency  or  seriousness,  or 
patience,  or  even  to  escape  contempt  and  derision. 
Habits  of  thinking  are  fixed  by  habits  of  acting;  and 
both  too  solidly  fixed  to  be  moved  by  human  persua- 
sion. God  in  his  mercy,  and  by  his  providences,  as 
well  as  by  his  Spirit,  can  touch  and  soften  the  heart  of 
stone.  And  it  is  seldom  perhaps  that  without  some 
strong,  and,  it  may  be,  sudden  impressions  of  this 
kind,  and  from  this  source,  serious  sentiments  ever 
penetrate  dispositions,  hardened  in  the  manner  which 
we  have  here  described. 


SERMON   11. 

THE  LOVE  OF  GOD  .    i 

1  John,  iv.  19. 
IFe  love  hiniy  because  he  first  loved  us. 

HeliGION  may,  and  it  can  hardly  I  think  be  ques- 
tioned but  that  it  sometimes  does,  spring  from  terror, 
from  grief,  from  pain,  from  punishment,  from  the  ap- 
proach of  death;  and  provided  it  be  sincere,  that  is, 
such  as  either  actually  produces,  or  as  would  produce 
a  change  of  life,  it  is  genuine  religion,  notwithstanding 
the  bitterness,  the  violence,  or  if  it  must  be  so  called, 
the  baseness  and  unworthiness  of  the  motive  from 
which  it  proceeds.  We  are  not  to  narrow  the  promises 
of  God:  and  acceptance  is  promised  to  sincere  peni- 
tence, without  specifying  the  cause  from  which  it  ori- 
ginates, or  confining  it  to  one  origin  more  than  another. 
There  are  however  higher  and  worthier  and  better 
motives,  from  which  religion  may  begin  in  the  heart; 
and  on  this  account  especially  are  they  to  be  deemed 
better  motives,  that  the  religion,  which  issues  from 
them,  has  a  greater  probability  of  being  sincere.  I  re- 
peat again,  that  sincere  religion  from  any  motive  will 


38  SERMON  11. 

be  effectual ;  but  there  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  in 
the  p.'obability  of  its  being  sincere,  according  to  the 
different  cause  in  the  mind  from  which  it  sets  out. 

The  purest  motive  of  human  action  is  the  love  of 
God.  There  may  be  motives  stronger  and  more  gene- 
ral, but  none  so  pure.  The  religion,  the  virtue,  which 
owes  its  birth  in  the  soul  to  this  motive,  is  always 
genuine  religion;  always  true  virtue.  Indeed,  speak- 
ing of  religion,  I  should  call  the  love  of  God  not  so 
much  the  groundwork  of  religion,  as  religion  itself. 
So  far  as  religion  is  disposition,  it  is  religion  itself. 
But  though  of  religion  it  be  more  than  the  ground- 
work; yet  being  a  disposition  of  mind,  like  other  dis- 
positions, it  is  the  groundwork  of  action.  Well  might 
our  blessed  Saviour  preach,  as  he  did,  the  love  of  God. 
It  is  the  source  of  every  thing  which  is  good  in  man. 
I  do  not  mean  that  it  is  the  only  source,  or  that  good- 
ness can  proceed  from  no  other,  but  that  of  all  prin- 
ciples of  conduct  it  is  the  safest,  the  best,  the  truest, 
the  highest.  Perhaps  it  is  peculiar  to  the  Jewish  and 
Christian  dispensations,  (and,  if  it  be,  it  is  a  peculiar 
excellency  in  them)  to  have  formally  and  solemnly 
laid  down  this  principle,  as  a  ground  of  human  action. 
I  shall  not  deny,  that  elevated  notions  were  entertained 
of  the  Deity  by  some  wise  and  excellent  heathens; 
but  even  these  did  not,  that  I  can  find,  so  inculcate  the 
love  of  that  Deity,  or  so  propose  and  state  it  to  their 
followers,  as  to  make  it  a  governing,  actuating  princi- 
ple of  life  amongst  them.  This  did  Moses  or  rather 
God  by  the  mouth  of  Moses,   expressly,  formally, 


SERMON  II.  39 

solemnly.  This  did  Christ,  adopting,  repeating,  ratify- 
ing what  the  law  had  already  declared ;  and  not  only 
ratifying,  but  singling  it  out  from  the  body  of  pre- 
cepts, which  composed  the  old  institution,  and  giving 
it  a  preeminence  to  every  other. 

Now  this  love,  so  important  to  our  religious  cha 
racter,  and,  by  its  effect  upon  that,  to  our  salvation, 
which  is  the  end  of  religion;  this  love,  I  say,  is  to  be 
engendered  in  the  soul,  not  so  much  by  hearing  the 
words  of  others,  or  by  instruction  from  others,  as  by 
a  secret  and  habitual  contemplation  of  God  Almighty's 
bounty,  and  by  a  constant  referring  of  our  enjoyments 
and  our  hopes  to  his  goodness.  This  is  in  a  great  de- 
gree a  matter  of  habit;  and,  like  all  good  habits,  par- 
ticularly mental  habits,  is  what  every  person  must 
form  in  himself  and  for  himself  by  endeavour  and 
perseverance.  In  this  great  article,  as  well  as  in  others 
which  are  less,  every  man  must  be  the  author  to  him- 
self of  his  train  of  thinking,  be  it  good  or  bad.  I  shall 
only  observe  that  when  this  habit,  or,  as  some  would 
call  it,  this  turn  and  course  of  thought  is  once  happilx 
generated,  occasions  will  continually  arise  to  minister 
to  its  exercise  and  augmentation.  A  night's  rest,  or  a 
comfortable  meal,  will  immediately  direct  our  grati- 
tude to  God.  The  use  of  our  limbs,  the  possession 
of  our  senses;  every  degree  of  health,  every  hour  of 
ease,  every  sort  of  satisfaction,  which  we  enjoy,  will 
carry  our  thoughts  to  the  same  object.  But  if  our 
enjoyments  raise  our  affections,  still  more  will  our 
hopes  do  the  same;  and,  most  of  all  beyond  compa- 


40  SERMON  II. 

rison,  those  hopes  which  religion  inspires.  Think  of 
man;  and  think  of  heaven;  think  what  he  is,  and  what 
it  is  in  his  power  hereafter  to  become.  Think  of  this 
again  and  again:  and  it  is  impossible,  but  that  the 
propect  of  being  so  rewarded  for  our  poor  labours,  so 
resting  from  our  past  troubles,  so  forgiven  for  our  re- 
pented sins,  must  fill  our  hearts  with  the  deepest  thank- 
fulness; and  thankfulness  is  love.  Towards  the  author 
of  an  obligation  which  is  infinite,  thankfulness  is  the 
only  species  of  love  that  can  exist. 

But  moreover,  the  love  of  God  is  specifically  repre- 
sented in  scripture  as  one  of  the  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  The  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart,  is 
described  as  one  of  the  works  of  the  Spirit  upon  the 
souls  of  christians.  Now  whatever  is  represented  in 
scripture  to  be  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  is  to  be  sought 
for  by  earnest  and  peculiar  prayer.  That  is  the  prac- 
tical use  to  be  made  of,  and  the  practical  consequence 
to  be  drawn  from  such  representations :  the  very  pur- 
pose probably  for  which  they  were  delivered;  the  mere 
point  of  doctrine  being  seldom  that  in  which  scripture 
declarations  rest.  Let  us  not  fail  therefore;  let  us  not 
eease  to  intreat  the  Father  of  mercies,  that  the  love  of 
him  may  be  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  continually.  It 
is  one  of  the  things  in  which  we  are  sure,  that  our 
prayers  are  right  in  their  object;  in  which  also  we 
may  humbly  hope,  that,  unless  obstructed  by  ourselves,, 
they  will  not  be  in  vain. 


SERMON  II.  4^ 

Nor  let  it  be  said  that  this  aid  is  superfluous,  for  as 
much  as  nature  herself  had  provided  sufficient  means 
for  exciting  this  sentiment.  This  is  true  with  respect  to 
those,  who  are  in  the  full,  or  in  any  thing  near  the  full, 
enjo}  ment  of  the  gifts  of  nature.  With  them  I  do  allow 
that  nothing  but  a  criminal  stupefaction  can  hinder  the 
love  of  God  from  being  felt.  But  this  is  not  the  case 
with  all;  nor  with  any  at  all  times.  Afflictions,  sick- 
ness,  poverty,  the  maladies  and  misfortunes  of  life, 
will  interrupt  and  damp  this  sensation,  so  far  as  it  de- 
pends upon  our  actual  ex^ierience  of  God's  bounty.  I 
do  not  say  that  the  evils  of  life  ought  to  have  this 
effect:  taken  in  connexion  with  a  future  state  thev 
certainly  ought  not;  because,  when  viewed  in  that  re- 
lation, afflictions  and  calamities  become  trials,  warn- 
ings, chastisements;  and,  when  sanctified  by  their 
fruits,  when  made  the  means  of  weaning  us  from  the 
world,  bringing  us  nearer  to  God,  and  of  purging 
away  that  dross  and  defilement  which  our  souls  have 
contracted,  are  in  truth  amongst  the  first  of  favours  and 
of  blessings:  nevertheless,  as  an  Apostle  himself  con- 
fesses, they  are  for  a  season  grievous:  they  are  dis- 
heartening: and  they  arc  too  apt  to  produce  an  unfavour- 
able effect  upon  our  gratitude.  Wherefore  it  is  upon 
these  occasions  most  especially,  that  the  aid  of  God's 
Spirit  may  be  required  to  maintain  in  our  souls  the  love 
of  God. 

Let  those  therefore,  who  are  conscious  to  themselves 
that  they  have  not  the  love  of  God  within  them,  as  they 
ought  to  have  it,  endeavour  to  acquire  and  to  increase 

F 


42  SERMON  It 

this  holy  principle  by  seriousness  of  mind,  by  habitual 
meditation,  by  devout  reading,  devout  conversation, 
devout  society.  These  are  all  aids  mid  helps  towards 
inducing  upon  the  mind  this  most  desirable,  nay, 
rather  let  me  call  it,  this  blessed  frame  and  temper,  and 
of  fixing  us  in  it:  and  for  as  much  as  it  is  declared  in 
scripture  to  be  shed  abroad  in  the  heart  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  let  us  labour  in  our  prayers  for  this  best  gift. 

The  next  consideration  upon  the  subject  is  the  fruit 
and  effect  of  this  disposition  upon  our  lives.  If  it  be 
asked  how  does  the  love  of  God  operate  in  the  produc- 
tion of  virtuous  conduct,  I  shall  answer,  that  it  ope- 
rates exactly  in  the  same  manner  as  affection  towards 
a  parent  or  gratitude  towards  a  human  benefactor 
operates,  by  stirring  up  a  strong  rebuke  in  the  mind 
upon  the  thought  of  offending  him.  This  lays  a  con- 
stant check  upon  our  conduct.  And  this  sensation  is 
the  necessary  accompaniment  of  love;  it  cannot,  I 
think,  be  separated  from  it.  But  it  is  not  the  whole  of 
its  influence.  Love  and  gratitude  towards  a  benefactor 
not  only  fill  us  with  remorse  and  with  internal  shame 
whenever,  by  our  wilful  misbehaviour,  we  have  given 
cause  to  that  benefactor  to  be  displeased  with  us;  but 
also  prompt  us  with  a  desire  upon  all  occasions  of  doing 
wiiat  we  believe  he  wills  to  be  done,  which,  with  re- 
spect to  God,  is  in  other  cases  a  desire  to  serve  him. 
Now  this  is  not  only  a  restraint  from  vice,  but  an  incite- 
ment to  action.  Instructed  as  in  christian  countries 
mankind  generally  are,  in  the  main  articles  of  human 
duty,  this  motive  will  seldom  mislead  them. 


SERMON  II.  43 

In  one  important  respect  the  love  of  God  excels  all 
moral  principles  whatever;  and  that  is  in  its  compre- 
hensiveness. It  reaches  every  action :  it  includes  every 
duty ;  you  cannot  mention  another  moral  principle 
which  has  this  property  in  the  same  perfection.  For 
instance,  I  can  hardly  name  a  better  mcjral  principle 
than  humanity.  It  is  a  principle  which  every  one  com- 
mends, and  justly:  yet  in  this  very  article  of  compre- 
hensiveness it  is  deficient,  when  compared  with  the 
love  of  God.  It  will  prompt  us  undoubtedly  to  do  kind 
and  generous  and  compassionate  things  towards  our 
friends,  our  acquaintance,  our  neighbours  and  towards 
the  poor.  In  our  relation  to,  and  in  our  intercourse 
with  mankind,  especially  towards  those  who  are  de- 
pendent upon  us,  or  over  whom  we  have  power,  it  will 
keep  us  from  hardness  and  rigor  and  cruelty.  In  all 
this  it  is  excellent.  But  it  will  not  regulate  us,  as  we 
require  to  be  regulated,  in  another  great  branch  of 
christian  duty,  self-government  and  self-restraint.  We 
may  be  exceedingly  immoral  and  licentious  in  sinful 
indulgences  without  violating  our  principles  of  huma- 
nity; at  least  without  specifically  violating  it,  and  with- 
out being  sensible  of  violating  it.  And  this  is  by  no 
means  an  uncommon  case  or  character,  namely,  huma- 
nity of  temper  subsisting  along  with  the  most  criminal 
licentiousness,  and  under  a  total  want  of  personal  self- 
government.  The  reason  is,  that  the  principle  of  con- 
duct, though  excellent  as  far  as  it  goes,  fails  in  compre- 
hensiveness. Not  so  with  the  love  of  God.  He,  who  is 
influenced  by  that,  feels  its  hifluence  in  all  parts  of 


44  SERMON  II. 

duty,  upon  every  occasion  of  action;  throughout  the 
whole  course  of  conduct. 


The  thing  with  most  of  us  to  be  examined  into  and 
ascertained  is,  whether  it  indeed  guide  us  at  all :  whe- 
ther it  be  within  us  an  efficient  motive.  I  am  far  from 
taking  upon  me  to  say  that  it  is  essential  to  this  prin- 
ciple to  exclude  all  other  principles  of  conduct,  espe- 
cially the  dread  of  God's  wrath  and  of  its  tremendous 
consequences:  or  that  a  person,  who  is  deterred  from 
evil  actions  by  the  dread  of  God's  wrath,  is  obliged  to 
conclude,  that  because  he  so  much  dreads  God,  he 
cannot  love  him.  I  will  not  venture  to  say  any  such 
thing.  The  scripture,  it  is  true,  speaking  of  the  love 
of  God,  hath  said,  that  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear, 
but  it  hath  not  said  that  in  the  soul  of  man  this  love  is 
ever  perfect,  what  the  scripture  has  thus  declared  of 
perfect  love  is  no  more  than  what  is  just.  The  love  of 
God,  were  it  perfect,  that  is  to  say,  were  it  such  as  his 
nature,  his  relation,  his  bounty  to  us  deserves,  were  it 
adequate  either  to  its  object  or  to  our  obligation,  were 
it  carried  up  as  high  as  in  a  perfectly  virtuous  and  ra- 
tional soul  it  might  be  carried,  would,  I  believe,  absorb 
every  other  motive  and  every  other  principle  of  action 
whatever,  even  the  fear  of  God  amongst  the  rest.  This 
principle,  by  its  nature,  ?mght  gsan  a  complete  pos- 
session of  the  heart  and  will,  so  that  a  person  acting 
under  its  influence  would  take  nothing  else  into  the 
account,  would  reflect  upon  no  other  consequence  or 
consideration  whatever.  Possibly,  nay  probably,  this 


SERMON  II.  45 

IS  the  condition  of  some  higher  orders  of  spirits,  and 
may  become  ours  by  future  improvement  and  in  a 
more  exalted  state  of  existence:  but  it  cannot,  I  am 
afraid,  be  said  to  be  our  condition  now.  The  love  of 
God  subsists  in  the  heart  of  good  men  as  a  powerful 
principle  of  action:  but  it  subsists  there  in  conjunc- 
tion with  other  principles,  especially  with  the  fear  of 
him.  All  goodness  is  in  a  certain  degree  comparative, 
and,  I  think,  that  he  may  be  called  a  good  man  in 
whom  this  principle  dwells  and  operates  at  all.  Where- 
fore to  obtain;  when  obtained,  to  cultivate,  to  cherish, 
to  strengthen,  to  improve  it,  ought  to  form  the  most 
anxious  concern  of  our  spiritual  life.  He  that  loveth 
God  keepeth  his  commandments,  but  still  the  love  of 
God  is  something  more  than  keeping  the  command- 
ments: for  which  reason  we  must  acquire,  what  many 
it  is  to  be  feared,  have  even  yet  to  begin,  a  habit  of 
contemplating  God  in  the  bounties  and  blessings  of 
his  creation.  I  think  that  religion  can  hardly  subsist 
in  the  soul  without  this  habit  in  some  degree.  But  the 
greater  part  of  us,  such  is  the  natural  dulness  of  our 
souls,  require  something  more  exciting  and  stimu- 
lating than  the  sensations  which  large  and  general  views 
of  nature  or  of  providence  produce;  something  more 
particular  to  ourselves,  and  which  more  nearly  touches 
our  separate  happiness.  Now  of  examples  of  this  kind, 
namely,  of  direct  and  special  mercies  towards  himself', 
no  one,  who  calls  to  mind  the  passages  and  providences 
of  his  life,  can  be  destitute.  There  is  one  topic  of  gra- 
titude falling  under  this  head  which  almost  every  man. 


46  SERMON  II. 

who  is  tolerably  faithful  and  exact  in  his  reflections, 
will  find  in  events  upon  which  he  has  to  look  back; 
and  it  is  this.  Ho^v  often  have  we  been  spared,  when 
we  might  have  been  overtaken  and  cut  off  in  the  midst 
of  sin?  Of  all  the  attributes  of  God,  forbearance,  per- 
haps, is  that  which  we  have  most  to  acknowledge.  We 
cannot  want  occasions  to  bring  the  remembrance  of 
it  to  our  thoughts.  Have  there  not  been  occasions,  in 
which,  when  insnared  in  vice,  we  might  have  been 
detected  and  exposed,  have  been  crushed  by  punish- 
ment or  shame,  have  been  irrecoverably  ruined?  oc- 
casions in  which  we  might  have  been  suddenly  stricken 
with  death  in  a  state  of  soul  the  most  unfit  for  it  that 
was  possible?  That  we  were  none  of  these,  that  we 
have  been  preserved  from  these  dangers,  that  our  sin 
was  not  our  destruction,  that  instant  judgment  did  not 
overtake  us,  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  longsufteringof 
God.  Supposing,  what  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the 
secrets  of  our  conduct  were  known  to  him  at  the  time, 
it  can  be  attributed  to  no  other  cause.  Now  this  is  a 
topic  which  can  never  fl\il  to  supply  subjects  of  thank- 
fulness, and  of  a  species  of  thankfulness  which  must 
bear  with  direct  force  upon  the  regulation  of  our  con- 
duct. We  were  not  destroyed  when  we  might  have 
been  destroyed,  and  when  we  merited  destruction. 
We  have  been  preserved  for  further  trial.  This  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  a  touching  reflection.  How  deeply  there- 
fore does  it  behove  us  not  to  trifle  with  the  patience  of 
God,  not  to  abuse  this  enlarged  space,  this  respited, 
protracted  season  of  repentance,  by  plunging  afresh 


SERMON  II.  47 

into  the  same  crimes,  or  others,  or  greater  crimes?  It 
shows  that  wc  are  not  to  be  wrought  upon  by  mercy; 
.that  our  gratitude  is  not  moved;  that  things  arc  wrong 
within  us;  that  there  is  a  deplorable  void  and  chasm 
in  our  religious  principles,  the  love  of  God  not  being 
present  in  our  hearts. 

But  to  return  to  that  with  which  we  set  out.  Religion 
may  spring  from  various  principles,  begin  in  various 
motives.  It  is  not  for  us  to  narrow  the  promises  of  God 
which  belong  to  sincere  religion,  from  whatever  cause 
it  originates.  But  of  these  principles,  the  purest,  the 
surest,  is  the  love  of  God,  forasmuch  as  the  religion 
which  proceeds  from  it  is  sincere,  constant,  and  uni- 
versal. It  will  not,  like  fits  of  terror  and  alarm,  (which 
yet  we  do  not  despise)  produce  a  temporary  religion, 
l^he  love  of  God  is  an  abiding  principle.  It  will  not, 
like  some  other,  (and  these  also  good  and  laudable  prin- 
ciples of  action,  as  far  as  they  go,)  produce  a  partial  re- 
ligion. It  is  coextensive  with  all  our  obligations.  Prac- 
tical Christianity  may  be  comprised  in  three  words,  de ' 
votion,  self-government,  and  benevolence.  The  love  of 
God  in  the  heart  is  a  fountain,  from  which  these  three 
streams  of  virtue  will  not  fail  to  issue.  The  love  of 
God  also  is  a  guard  against  error  in  conduct,  because 
it  is  a  guard  against  those  evil  influences  which  mis- 
lead the  understanding  in  moral  questions.  In  some 
measure  it  supplies  the  place  of  every  rule.  He,  who 
has  it  truly  within  him,  has  little  to  learn.  Look  sted- 
fastly  to  the  will  of  God,  which  he  who  loves  God  nc- 


48  SERMON  II. 

cessarily  does,  practise  what  you  believe  to  be  well 
pleasing  to  him,  leave  off  what  you  believe  to  be  dis- 
pleasing to  him ;  cherish,  confirm,  strengthen  the  prin- 
ciple itself,  which  sustains  this  course  of  external  con- 
duet,  and  you  will  not  want  many  lessons,  you  need 
not  listen  to  any  other  monitor. 


SERMON  III. 

MEDITATING  UPON  RELIGION. 
Psalm  Ixiii.  7. 

Have  I  not  remembered  thee  hi  my  bed:  and  thought 
upon  thee  when  I  was  waking  ? 

The  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man,  as  it  is  some 
times  emphatically  called,  the  Christian  life,  that  is,  or 
the  progress  of  Christianity  in  the  heart  of  any  particu- 
lar person,  is  marked,  amongst  other  things,  by  reli- 
gion gradually  gaining  possession  of  the  thoughts.  It 
has  been  said,  that,  if  we  tliought  about  religion  as  it 
deserved,  we  should  never  think  about  any  thing  else; 
nor  with  strictness  perhaps  can  we  deny  the  truth  of 
this  proposition.  Religious  concerns  do  so  surpass  and 
outweigh  in  value  and  importance  all  concerns  beside, 
that,  did  they  occupy  a  place  in  our  minds  proportion- 
ed to  that  importance,  they  would  in  truth  exclude 
every  other  but  themselves.  I  am  not  therefore  one  of 
those  who  wonder  when  I  see  a  man  engrossed  with 
religion;  the  wonder  with  me  is,  that  men  care  and 
think  so  little  concerning  it.  With  all  the  allo\vances 
which  must  be  made  for  our  employments,  our  activi- 

G 


50  SERMON  ill. 

ties,  our  anxieties  about  the  interests  and  occurrences 
of  the  present  life,  it  is  still  true,  that  our  forgetfulness 
and  negligence  and  indifference  about  religion  are 
much  greater  than  can  be  excused,  or  can  easily  be 
accounted  for,  by  these  causes.  Few  men  are  so  busy, 
but  that  they  contrive  to  find  time  for  any  gratification 
their  heart  is  set  upon,  and  thought  for  any  subject 
in  which  they  are  interested:  they  want  not  leisure  for 
these,  though  they  want  leisure  for  religion.  Notwith- 
standing therefore  singular  cases,  if  indeed  there  be 
any  cases,  of  being  over  religious,  over-intent  upon 
spiritual  affairs,  the  real  and  true  complaint  is  all  on  the 
other  side,  that  men  think  not  about  them  enough,  as 
they  ought,  as  is  reasonable,  as  it  is  their  duty  to  do. 
That  is  the  rndady  and  the  mischief.  The  cast  and  turn 
of  our  infirm  and  fleshly  nature  lean  all  on  that  side.  For 
first  this  nature  is  affected  chiefly  by  what  we  see; 
though  the  things  which  concern  us  most  deeply  be 
not  seen;  for  this  very  reason,  that  they  are  not  seen, 
they  do  not  affect  us  as  they  ought.  Though  these  things 
ought  to  be  meditated  upon,  and  must  be  acted  upon, 
one  way  or  other,  long  before  we  come  actually  to  ex- 
perience them,  }'et  in  fact  we  do  not  meditate  upon 
ihem,  \vc  do  not  act  with  a  view  to  them,  till  something 
gives  us  alarm,  gi\'es  reason  to  believe  that  they  are  ap- 
proaching fast  upon  us,  that  they  are  at  hand,  or  short- 
ly will  be,  that  we  shall  indeed  experience  what  they 
are.  The  world  of  spirits,  the  world  for  which  we  are 
destined,  is  invisible  to  us.  Hear  St.  Paul's  account  of 
this  matter;  "  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen, 
f%ut  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen,  for  the  things 


SERMON  III.  51 

which  are  seeji  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  arc 
not  seen  are  eternal."  *'We  walk  by  faith  not  by  sight: 
faith  is  the  etidence  of  things  not  seen."  Some  great 
invisible  agent  there  must  be  in  the  universe;  "the 
things  which  were  seen  were  not  made  of  things  which 
do  appear."  Now  if  the  great  Author  of  all  things  be 
himself  invisible  to  our  senses,  and  if  our  relation  to 
him  must  necessarily  form  the  greatest  interest  and 
concern  of  our  existence,  then  it  follows,  that  our 
greatest  interest  and  concern  are  with  those  things 
which  are  now  invisible.  "  We  are  saved  by  hope,  but 
hope  that  is  seen  is  not  hope:  for  what  a  man  seeth, 
why  doth  he  }  et  hope  for,  but  if  we  hope  for  that  we 
see  not,  then  do  we  with  patience  wait  for  it."  The  first 
infirmity  therefore,  which  religion  has  to  conquer  with- 
in us,  is  that  which  binds  down  our  attention  to  the 
things  which  we  see.  The  natural  man  is  immersed  in 
sense:  nothing  takes  hold  of  his  mind  but  what  applies 
immediately  to  his  sense;  but  this  disposition  will  not 
do  for  religion  :  the  religious  character  is  founded  in 
hope  as  contra-distinguished  from  experience,  in  per- 
ceiving by  the  mind  what  is  not  perceived  by  the  eye; 
unless  a  man  can  do  this,  he  cannot  be  religious :  and 
with  many  it  is  a  great  difficulty.  This  power  of  hope, 
which  as  St.  Paul  observes  of  it,  is  that  which  places 
the  invisible  world  before  our  view,  is  specifically  de- 
scribed in  scripture,  as  amongst  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit, 
the  natural  man  standing  indeed  much  in  need  of  it, 
being  altogether  of  an  opposite  tendency.  Hear  St. 
Paul's  prayer  for  his  Roman  converts:  "The  God  of 
hope  fill  you  with  all  joy  and  peace  in  believing,  that 


52  SERMON  III. 

you  may  abound  in  hope  through  the  power  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  Again  to  the  Galatians,  how  does  he 
describe  the  state  of  mind  of  a  Christian?  "  we  through 
the  Spirit  wait  for  the  hope  of  righteousness  by  faith." 

Again:  Another  impediment  to  the  thought  of  reli- 
gion is  the  faculty  and  the  habit  we  have  acquired  of 
regarding  its  concerns  as  at  a  distance.  A  child  is  af- 
fected by  nothing  but  what  is  present,  and  many  thou- 
sands in  this  respect  continue  children  all  their  lives;  in 
a  degree  this  weakness  cleaves  to  us  all,  or  produces 
upon  us  the  same  effect  under  a  different  form,  namely, 
in  this  way,  when  we  find  ourselves  necessarily  dis- 
turbed by  near  or  approaching  evil,  we  have  the  means 
of  forgetting  the  nearness  or  the  approach  of  that, 
which  must  bring  with  it  the  greatest  evil  or  the  great- 
est good  we  are  capable  of,  our  change  at  death. 
Though  we  cannot  exactly  offer  any  arguments  to 
show  that  it  is  either  certainly  or  probably  at  a  dis- 
tance, yet  we  have  the  means  of  regarding  it  in  our 
minds  as  though  it  were  at  a  distance;  and  this  even 
in  cases  in  which  it  cannot  possibly  be  so.  Do  we  pre- 
pare for  it?  no;  why?  because  we  practically  regard  it 
in  our  imaginations  as  at  a  distance :  we  cannot  prove 
that  it  is  at  a  distance :  nay,  the  contrary  may  be  proved 
against  us:  but  still  we  regard  it  so  in  our  imaginations, 
and  regard  it  so  practically;  for  imagination  is  with 
most  men  the  practical  principle.  But  however  strong 
and  general  this  delusion  be,  has  it  any  foundation  in 
reason?  Can  that  be  thought  at  a  distance  which  may 
come  to-morrow,  which  must  come  in  a  few  years?  In 


SERMON  III.  53 

a  very  few  years  to  most  of  us,  in  a  few  yc^rs  to  all  it 
will  be  fixed  and  decided,  whether  we  are  to  be  in 
heaven  or  hell;  yet  we  go  on  without  thinking  of  it, 
without  preparing  for  it,  and  it  is  exceedingly  observ- 
able, that  it  is  only  in  religion  we  thus  put  away  the 
thought  from  us.  In  the  settlement  of  our  wordly  affairs 
after  our  deaths,  which  exactly  depend  upon  the  same 
event,  commence  at  the  same  time,  are  equally  distant, 
if  either  were  distant,  equally  liable  to  uncertainty,  as 
to  when  the  disposition  will  take  place,  in  these,  I  say. 
men  are  not  usually  negligent,  or  think  that  by  reason 
of  its  distance  it  can  be  neglected,  or  by  reason  of  the 
uncertainty  when  it  may  happen,  left  unprovided  for. 
This  is  a  flagrant  inconsistency,  and  proves  decisively 
that  religion  possesses  a  small  portion  of  our  concern, 
in  proportion  with  what  it  ought  to  do.  For  instead  of 
giving  to  it  that  superiority  which  is  due  to  immortal 
concerns,  above  those  which  are  transitory,  perishable 
and  perishing,  it  is  not  even  put  upon  an  equality  with 
them;  nor  with  those,  which,  in  respect  to  time,  and 
the  uncertainty  of  time,  are  under  the  same  circum- 
stances with  itself 

Thirdly:  The  spiritual  character  of  religion  is  an 
other  great  impediment  to  its  entering  our  thoughts. 
All  religion,  which  is  effectual,  is  and  must  be  spiri- 
tual. Offices  and  ordinances  are  the  handmaids  and 
instruments  of  the  spiritual  religion,  calculated  to 
generate,  to  promote,  to  maintain,  to  uphold  it  in  the 
heart,  but  the  thing  itself  is  purely  spiritual.  Now  the 
flesh  weigheth  down  the  spirit,  as  with  a  load  and  bur- 


,54  SERMON  III. 

den.  It  is  difficult  to  rouse  the  human  constitution  to  u 
sense  and  perception  of  what  is  purely  spiritual.  They 
who  are  addicted,  not  only  to  vice,  but  to  gratifica- 
tions and  pleasures;  they  who  know  no  other  rule  than 
to  go  with  the  crowd  in  their  career  of  dissipation  and 
amusement;  they  whose  attentions  are  all  fixed  and 
engrossed  by  business,  whose  minds  from  morning  to 
night  are  counting  and  computing;  the  weak  and  fool- 
ish and  stupid;  lastly,  which  comprehends  a  class  of 
mankind  deplorably  numerous,  the  indolent  and  sloth- 
ful; none  of  these  can  bring  themselves  to  meditate 
upon  religion.  The  last  class  slumber  over  its  interests 
and  concerns;  perhaps  they  cannot  be  said  to  forget  it 
absolutely,  but  they  slumber  over  the  subject,  in 
which  state  nothing  as  to  their  salvation  gets  done,  no 
decision,  no  practice.  There  are,  therefore,  we  see, 
various  obstacles  and  infirmities  in  our  constitutions, 
which  obstruct  the  reception  of  religious  ideas  in  our 
mind,  still  more  such  a  voluntary  entertainment  of 
them,  as  may  bring  forth  fruit.  It  ought  therefore  to 
be  our  constant  prayer  to  God,  that  he  will  open  our 
hearts  to  the  influence  of  his  word,  by  which  is  meant 
that  he  will  so  quicken  and  actuate  the  sensibility  and 
vigor  of  our  minds,  as  to  enable  us  to  attend  to  the 
things,  which  really  and  truly  belong  to  our  peace. 

So  soon  as  religion  gains  that  hold  and  that  posses- 
sion of  the  heart,  which  it  must  do  to  become  the 
means  of  our  salvation,  things  change  within  us,  as  in 
many  other  respects,  so  especially  in  this.  We  think 
a  great  deal  more  frequently  about  it,  we  think  of  it 


SKRMON  111.  55 

tor  a  longer  continuance,  and  our  thoughts  of  it  have, 
much  more  of  vivacity  and  impressiveness.  First, 
VVe  ^egin  to  think  of  religion  more  frequently  tlian 
\ve  did.  Heretofore  we  never  thought  of  it  at  ail,  ex- 
cept '.\'hen  some  melancholy  incident  had  sunk  our 
sj)irits,  or  had  terrified  our  apprehensions;  it  was  either 
I'rom  lowness  or  from  fright  that  we  thought  of  reli- 
gion at  all.  Whilst  things  went  smoothly  and  prosper- 
ously and  gaily  with  us,  whilst  all  was  well  and  safe 
in  our  health  and  circumstances,  religion  was  the  last 
thing  we  wished  to  turn  our  minds  to:  we  did  not 
want  to  have  our  pleasure  disturbed  by  it.  But  it  is 
not  so  with  us  now:  there  is  a  change  in  our  minds 
in  this  respect.  It  enters  our  thoughts  very  often,  both 
by  day  and  by  night,  "  Have  I  not  remembered  thee 
in  my  bed,  and  thought  upon  thee  when  I  was  wak- 
ing?" This  change  is  one  of  the  prognostications  of 
the  religious  principle  forming  within  us.  Secondly, 
These  thoughts  settle  themselves  upon  our  minds. 
Phey  were  formerly  fleeting  and  transitory,  as  the 
cloud  which  passes  along  the  sky;  and  they  were  so 
for  two  reasons:  first,  they  found  no  congenial  temper 
and  disposition  to  rest  upon,  no  seriousness,  no  pos- 
ture of  mind  proper  for  their  reception ;  and  secondly, 
because  we  of  our  own  accord,  by  a  positive  exertion 
and  endeavour  of  our  will,  put  them  away  from  us,  we 
disliked  their  presence,  we  rejected  and  cast  them  out. 
But  it  is  not  so  now :  we  entertain  and  retain  religious 
meditations,  as  being  in  fact  those  which  concern  us 
most  deeply.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  solid  comfort 
which  is  to  be  found  in  them,  because  that  belongs  to 


56  SERMON  111. 

a  more  advanced  state  of  christian  life  than  1  am  now 
considering:  that  will  come  afterwards;  and,  when  it 
does  come,  will  form  the  support  and  consolation  and 
happiness  of  our  lives.  But  whilst  the  religious  prin- 
ciple is  forming,  at  least  during  the  first  steps  of  that 
formation,  we  are  induced  to  think  about  religion 
chiefly  from  a  sense  of  its  vast  consequences,  and  this 
reason  is  enough  to  make  wise  men  think  about  it 
both  long  and  closely.  Lastly,  our  religious  thoughts 
come  to  have  a  vivacity  and  impressiveness  in  them 
which  they  had  not  hitherto :  that  is  to  say,  they  in- 
terest us  much  more  than  they  did.  There  is  a  won- 
derful difference  in  the  light  in  which  we  see  the  same 
thing,  in  the  force  and  strength  with  which  it  rises  up 
before  our  view,  in  the  degree  with  which  we  are  af- 
fected by  it.  This  difference  is  experienced  in  no  one 
thing  more  than  in  religion,  not  only  between  diflfer- 
ent  persons,  but  by  the  same  person ^t  difl:erent  times, 
the  same  person  in  different  stages  of  the  christian 
progress,  the  same  person  under  different  measures  of 
divine  grace. 

Finally,  would  we  know  whether  we  have  made,  oi 
are  making  any  advances  in  Christianity  or  not?  These 
are  the  marks  which  will  tell  us.  Do  we  think  more 
frequently  al)0ut  religion  than  we  used  to  do?  Do  we 
cherish  and  entertain  these  thoughts  for  a  lonsfer  con- 
tinuance  than  we  did?  Do  they  interest  us  more  than 
formerly  ?  Do  they  impress  us  more,  do  they  strike 
us  more  forcibly,  do  they  sink  deeper?  If  we  perceive 
this,  then,  we  perceive  a  change,  upon  which  we  may 


SERMON  IM.  5.7 

ground  our  hopes  and  expectations;  if  we  perceive  it 
not,  we  have  cause  for  very  afflicting  apprehensions, 
that  the  power  of  religion  hath  not  yet  visited  us; 
cause  for  deep  and  fervent  intercession  with  God  for 
the  much  wanted  succour  of  his  holy  Spirit. 


H 


SERMON  IV. 

OF  THE  STATE  AFTER  DEATH. 

1  John,  iii.  2.  , 

"  Beloved^  now  are  we  the  soris  of  God;  arid  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know  thaty 
when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him;  for  we 
shall  see  him  as  he  is?^^ 

One  of  the  most  natural  solicitudes  of  the  human 
mind  is  to  know  what  will  become  of  us  after  death, 
what  is  already  become  of  those  friends,  who  are 
gone.  I  do  not  so  much  mean  the  great  question, 
whether  we  and  they  shall  be  happy  or  miserable;  as 
I  mean  the  question,  what  is  the  nature  and  condition 
of  that  state,  which  we  are  so  soon  to  try.  This  solici- 
tude, which  is  both  natural  and  strong,  is  sometimes 
however  carried  too  far:  and  this  is  the  case,  when 
it  renders  us  uneasy,  or  dissatisfied,  or  impatient 
under  the  obscurity,  in  which  the  subject  is  placed: 
and  placed,  not  only  in  regard  to  us,  or  in  regard  to 
common  men,  but  in  regard  even  to  the  apostles 
themselves  of  our  Lord,  who  were  taught  from  his 
mouth,  as  well  as  immediately  instructed  by  his  Spirit. 


SERMON  IV.  59 

St.  John,  the  author  of  the  text  which  I  have  read  to 
you,  was  one  of  these;  not  only  an  apostle,  but  of  all 
the  apostles,  perhaps,  the  most  closely  connected  with 
his  master,  and  admitted  to  the  most  intimate  fami- 
liarity with  him.  What  it  was  allowed  therefore  for 
man  to  know,  St.  John  knew.  Yet  this  very  St.  John 
acknowledges  "  that  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  wc 
shall  be;"  the  exact  nature  and  condition  and  circum- 
stances of  our  future  state  are  yet  hidden  from  us. 

I  think  it  credible,  that  this  may  in  a  very  great 
degree  arise  from  the  nature  of  the  human  understand- 
ing itself.  Our  Saviour  said  to  Nicodemus,  "  If  I 
have  told  you  earthly  things,  and  ye  believe  not,  how 
shall  ye  believe,  if  I  tell  you  of  heavenly  things?"  It 
is  evident  from  the  strain  of  this  extraordinary  con- 
versation, that  the  disbelief,  on  the  part  of  Nicode- 
mus, to  which  our  Saviour  refers,  was  that  which 
arose  from  the  difficulty  of  comprehending  the  sub- 
ject. Therefore  our  Saviour's  words  to  him  may  be 
construed  thus.  If  what  I  have  just  now  said  con- 
cerning the  new  birth,  concerning  being  born  again, 
concerning  being  born  of  the  Spirit,  concerning  the 
agency  of  the  Spirit,  which  are  all  "  earthly  things," 
that  is,  are  all  things  that  pass  in  the  hearts  of  chris- 
tians in  this  their  present  life,  and  upon  this  earth: 
if  this  information  prove  so  difficult,  that  you  cannot 
bring  yourself  to  believe  it,  by  reason  of  the  difficulty 
of  apprehending  it;  "  how  shall  ye  believe?"  how 
would  you  be  able  to  conquer  the  much  greater  diffi- 
culties, wliich  would  attend  my  discourse,  "  if  I  told 


(50  SERMON  IV. 

"you  of  heavenly  things;"  that  is  to  say,  if  I  speak 
to  }'oii  of  those  things,  which  are  passing,  or  which 
'Will  pass  in  heaven,  in  a  totally  different  state  and 
stage  of  existence,  amongst  natures  and  beings  unlike 
yours?  The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  the  human  un- 
derstanding, constituted  as  it  is,  though  fitted  for  the 
purposes  for  which  we  want  it,  that  is,  though  capable 
of  receiving  the  instruction  and  knowledge,  which  are 
necessary  for  our  conduct  and  the  discharge  of  our 
duty,  has  a  native  original  incapacity  for  the  reception 
of  any  distinct  knowledge  of  our  future  condition. 
The  reason  is,  that  all  our  conceptions  and  ideas  arc 
drawn  from  experience,  (not  perhaps  all  immediately 
from  experience,  but  experience  lies  at  the  bottom  of 
them  all,)  and  no  language,  no  information,  no  instruc- 
tion can  do  more  for  us,  than  teach  us  the  relation  of 
the  ideas  which  we  have.  Therefore,  so  far  as  we  can 
judge,  no  words  whatever  that  could  have  been  used, 
no  account  or  description  that  could  have  been  writ- 
ten down,  would  have  been  able  to  convey  to  us  a 
conception  of  our  future  state,  constituted  as  our  un- 
derstandings now  are.  I  am  far  from  saying,  that  it 
Avas  not  in  the  power  of  God,  by  immediate  inspira- 
tion, to  have  struck  light  and  ideas  into  our  minds, 
of  which  naturally  we  have  no  conception.  I  am  far 
from  saying,  that  he  could  not,  by  an  act  of  his  power, 
have  assumed  a  human  being,  or  the  soul  of  a  human 
being,  into  heaven;  and  have  shown  to  him  or  it,  the 
nature  and  the  glories  of  that  kingdom:  but  it  is  evi- 
dent, that,  unless  the  whole  order  of  our  present 
world  be  changed,  such  revelations  as  these  must  be 


SERMON  IV.  01 

rare;  must  be  limited  to  very  extraordiiuiry  persons 
and  very  extraordinary  occasions.  And  even  then, 
with  respect  to  others,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the 
ordinary  modes  of  commimication  by  speech  or  wri- 
ting are  inadequate  to  the  transmitting  of  any  know- 
ledge or  information  of  this  sort,  and  from  a  cause, 
■which  has  already  been  noticed,  namely,  that  language 
deals  only  with  the  ideas  which  we  ha\e;  that  these 
ideas  are  all  founded  in  experience;  that  probably, 
most  probably  indeed,  the  things  of  the  next  world 
are  very  remote  from  any  experience  which  we  have 
in  this ;  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that,  though  the 
inspired  person  might  himself  possess  this  superna- 
tural knowledge,  he  could  not  impart  it  to  any  other 
person  not  in  like  manner  inspired.  When,  therefore, 
the  nature  and  constitution  of  the  human  understand- 
ing is  considered,  it  can  excite  no  surprise,  it  ought 
to  excite  no  complaint,  it  is  no  fair  objection  to  Chris- 
tianity, "  that  it  doth  not  yet  appear,  what  we  shall 
be."  I  do  not  say  that  the  imperfection  of  our  under- 
standing forbids  it,  (for,  in  strictness  of  speech,  that 
is  not  imperfect,  which  answers  the  purpose  designed 
by  it,)  but  the  present  constitution  of  our  understand- 
ing forbids  it. 

'"  It  doth  not  yet  appear,"  saith  the  apostle,  "  what 
we  shall  be,  but  this  we  know,  that  when  he  shall  ap- 
pear, we  shall  be  like  him."  As  if  he  had  said,  "  though 
we  be  far  from  understanding  ihe  subject  either  ac- 
curately or  clearl} ,  or  from  having  conceptions  and 
notions  adequate  to  the  truth  and  reality  of  the  case, 


62  SERMON  IV^ 

yet  wc  know  somethings :  this,  for  instance,  we  know^ 
that,  "  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him." 
The  best  commentary  upon  this  last  sentence  of  St. 
John's  text  may  be  drawn  from  the  words  of  St.  Paul. 
His  words  state  the  same  proposition  more  fully, 
when  he  tells  us  (Phil.  iii.  21.)  "that  Christ  shall 
change  our  vile  bo.ly,  that  it  may  be  like  his  glorious 
body."  From  the  two  passages  together,  we  may  lay 
down  the  following  points,  first,  that  we  shall  have 
bodies.  One  apostle  informs  us,  that  we  shall  be  like 
him,  the  other,  that  our  vile  body  shall  be  like  his 
glorious  body:  therefore  we  shall  have  bodies.  Se- 
condly, that  these  bodies  shall  be  greatly  changed 
from  what  they  are  at  present.  If  we  had  had  nothing 
but  St.  John's  text  to  have  gone  upon,  this  would 
have  been  implied.  "  When  he  shall  appear,  we  shall 
be  like  him."  We  are  not  like  him  now,  we  shall  be 
like  him;  we  shall  hereafter  be  like  him,  namely, 
when  he  shall  appear.  St,  John's  words  plainly  regard 
this  similitude,  as  a  future  thing,  as  what  we  shall  ac- 
quire, as  belonging  to  what  we  shall  become,  in  con- 
tra-distinction  to  what  we  are.  Therefore  they  imply 
a  change,  which  must  take  place  in  our  bodily  con- 
stitution. But  what  St.  John's  words  imply,  St.  Paul's 
declare:  "  He  shall  change  our  vile  bodies."  That 
point  therefore  may  be  considered  as  placed  out  of 
question. 

That  such  a  change  is  necessary,  that  such  a  change 
is  to  be  expected,  is  agreeable  even  to  the  established 
order  of  nature.    Throughout  the  universe  this  rule 


SERMON  IV.  63 

holds,  viz.  that  the  body  of  every  animal  is  suited  to 
its  state ;  nay  more,  when  an  animal  changes  its  state, 
it  changes  its  body.  When  animals,  which  lived  under 
water,  afterwards  live  in  air,  their  bodies  are  changed 
almost  entirely,  so  as  hardly  to  be  known  by  any  one 
mark  of  resemblance  to  their  former  figure;  as,  for 
example,  from  worms  and  caterpillars  to  flies  and 
moths.  These  are  common  transformations;  and  the 
like  happens,  when  an  animal  changes  its  element 
from  the  water  to  the  earth,  or  an  insect  from  living 
under  ground  to  flying  abroad  in  the  air.  And  these 
changes  take  place  in  consequence  of  that  unalterable 
rule,  that  the  body  be  fitted  to  the  state;  which  rule 
obtains  throughout  every  region  of  nature,  \\'ith  which 
we  are  acquainted.  Now  our  present  bodies  are  by  no 
means  fitted  for  heaven.  So  saith  St.  Paul  expressly, 
"  Flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God; 
corruption  doth  not  inherit  incorruption."  Between  our 
bodies,  as  they  are  now  constituted,  and  the  state,  into 
which  we  shall  come  then,  there  is  a  physical,  neces- 
sary, and  invincible  incongruity.  Therefore  they  must 
undergo  a  change,  and  that  change  will  first  be  univer- 
sal, at  least  as  to  those  who  shall  be  saved;  secondly, 
it  will  be  sudden;  thirdly,  it  will  be  very  great.  First, 
it  will  be  universal.  St.  Paul's  words  in  the  fifteenth 
chapter  of  Corinthians  are,  "  we  shall  all  be  changed." 
I  do  however  admit,  that  this  whole  chapter  of  St. 
Paul's  relates  only  to  those  who  shall  be  saved;  of  no 
others  did  he  intend  to  speak.  This,  I  think,  has  been 
satisfactorily  made  out;  but  the  argument  is  too  long 
to  enter  upon  at  present.  If  so,  the  expression  of  the 


64  SERMON  TV. 

apostle,  "  we  shall  all  be  changed,"  proves  only  that 
we  who  are  saved,  who  are  admissible  into  his  king- 
dom, shall  be  changed.  Secondly,  the  change  will  be 
instantaneous.  So  St.  Paul  describes  it;  "  in  a  moment, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  dead  shall  be  raised  in- 
corruptible;" and  therefore  their  nature  must  have 
undergone  the  change.  Thirdly,  it  will  be  very  great. 
No  change,  which  we  experience  or  see,  can  bear  any 
assignable  proportion  to  it  in  degree  or  importance.  It 
is  this  corruptible  putting  on  incorruption ;  it  is  this 
mortal  putting  on  immortality.  Now  it  has  often  been 
made  a  question,  whether,  after  so  great  a  change,  the 
bodies,   with  which  we  shall  be  clothed,  are  to  be 
deemed  new  bodies,  or  the  same  bodies  under  a  new 
form.  This  is  a  question,  which  has  often  been  agi- 
tated, but  the  truth  is,  it  is  of  no  moment  or  impor- 
tance. We  continue  the  same  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, so  long  as  we  are  sensible  and  conscious,  that 
we  are  so.  In  this  life  our -bodies  are  continually  chang- 
ing. Much,  no  doubt,  and  greatly  is  the  body  of  every 
human  being  changed  from  his  birth  to  his  maturity: 
yet,  because  we  are  nevertheless  sensible  of  what  we 
are,  sensible  to  ourselves  that  we  are  the  same,  we  are 
in  reality  the  same.  Alterations,  in  the  size  or  form  of 
our  visible  persons,   make  no  change  in  that  respect. 
Nor  would  they,  if  they  were  much  greater,  as  in 
some  animals  they  are;  or  even,   if  they  were  total. 
Vast,  therefore,  as  that  change  must  be,  or  rather,  as 
the  difference  must  be  between  our  present  and  our 
future  bodies,  as  to  their  substance,  their  nature,  or 
their  form,  it  will  not  hinder  us  from  remaining  the 


SERMON  IV.  65 

same,  any  more  than  the  alterations,  which  our  bodies 
undergo  in  this  life,  hinder  us  from  remaining  the 
same.  We  know  within  ourselves  that  we  are  the 
same:  and  that  is  sufficient:  and  this  knowledge  or 
consciousness  we  shall  rise  Avith  from  the  grave,  what- 
ever be  the  bodies,  with  which  we  be  clothed. 

The  two  Apostles  go  one  step  furdier,  when  they 
tell  us,  that  we  shall  be  like  Christ  himself;  and  that 
this  likeness  will  consist  in  a  resemblance  to  his  glo- 
rified body.  Now  of  the  glorified  body  of  Christ  all 
that  we  know  is  this.  At  the  transfiguration  upon  the 
mount,  the  three  Apostles  saw  the  person  of  our  Lord 
in  a  very  different  state  from  its  ordinary  state.  "  He 
was  transfigured  before  them,  and  his  face  did  shine 
as  the  sun,  and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the  light." 
St.  Luke  describes  it  thus.  "  The  flishion  of  his  coun- 
tenance was  altered,  and  his  raiment  was  white  and 
glistering:  and  behold  there  talked  with  him  two  men, 
who  appeared  in  glory."  Then  he  iidds,  "  that  the 
Apostte»> wJien  they  av/aked,  saw  his  glory."  Now  I 
consider  this  transaction,  as  a  specimen  of  the  change 
of  which  a  glorified  body  is  susceptible.  St.  Stephen, 
^t  his  martyrdom,  saw  the  glory  of  God,  and  Jesus 
standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  St.  Paul  at  his 
conversion,  saw  a  light  from  heaven,  above  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun,  shining  round  about  him;  and  in 
this  light  Christ  then  was.  These  instances,  like  the 
former,  only  show  the  changes  and  the  appearances  of 
which  a  glorified  body  is  susceptible,  not  the  form  or 
condition,   in  which  it  must  necessarily  be  found,  or 

I 


66  SERMON  IV. 

must  always  continue.  You  will  observe,  that  it  was 
necessary  that  the  body  of  our  Lord  at  his  transfigu- 
ration, at  his  appearance  after  his  resurrection,  at  his 
ascension  into  heaven,  at  his  appearance  to  Stephen, 
should  preserve  a  resemblance  to  his  human  person 
upon  earth,  because  it  was  by  that  resemblance  alone 
he  could  be  known  to  his  disciples,  at  least  by  any 
means  of  knowledge  naturally  belonging  to  them  in 
that  human  state.  But  this  was  not  always  necessar)' 
nor  continues  to  be  necessary.  Nor  is  there  any  suffi- 
cient reason  to  suppose,  that  this  resemblance  to  our 
present  bodies  will  be  retained  in  our  future  bodies, 
or  be  at  all  wanted.  Upon  the  whole,  the  conclusions, 
which  wc  seem  authorized  to  draw  from  these  intima- 
tions of  scripture,  are; 

First,  that  we  sliall  have  bodies. 

Secondly,  that  they  will  be  so  far  different  from  our 
present  bodies,  as  to  be  suited,  by  that  difference,  to 
the  state  and  life,  into  which  they  are  to  enter,  agreea- 
bly to  that  rule,  which  prevails  throughout  universal 
nature;  that  the  body  of  every  being  is  suited  to  its 
state,  and  that,  when  it  changes  its  state,  it  changes 
its  body. 

Thirdly,  that  it  is  a  question  by  which  we  need  not 
at  all  be  disturbed,  whether  the  bodies,  with  which  w^e 
shall  arise,  be  new  bodies,  or  the  same  bodies  under 
a  new  form ;  for, 


SERMON  IV.  G7 

Fourthly,  no  alteration  will  hinder  us  from  remain- 
ing the  same,  provided  we  are  sensible  and  conscious 
that  we  are  so,  any  more  than  the  changes,  which  our 
visible  person  undergoes  even  in  this  life,  and  which 
from  infancy  to  manhood  are  undoubtedly  very  great, 
hinder  us  from  being  the  same,  to  ourselves  and  in 
ourselves,  and  to  all  intents  and  purposes  whatsoever. 

Lastly,  that  though,  from  the  imperfection  of  our 
faculties,  we  neither  are,  nor,  without  a  consant  mira- 
cle upon  our  minds,  could  be  made,  able  to  conceive 
or  comprehend  the  nature  of  our  future  bodies;  yet 
we  are  assured,  that  the  change  will  be  infinitely  bene- 
ficial ;  that  our  new  bodies  will  be  infinitely  superior 
to  those,  which  we  carry  about  with  us  in  our  present 
state;  in  a  word,  that,  whereas  our  bodies  are  now 
comparatively  vile,  (and  are  so  denominated,)  they 
will  so  far  rise  in  glory,  as  to  be  made  like  unto  his 
glorious  body;  that,  whereas,  through  our  pilgrimage 
here,  we  have  borne,  that  which  we  inherited,  the 
image  of  the  earthy,  of  our  parent  the  first  Adam, 
created  for  a  life  upon  this  earth;  we  shall,  in  our  fu- 
ture state,  bear  another  image,  a  new  resemblance, 
that  of  the  heavenly  inhabitant,  the  second  man,  the 
second  nature,  even  that  of  the  Lord  from  heaven. 


SERMON  V. 


ON  PURITY  OF  THE  HEART  AND  AFFECTIONS. 
OF  THE  STATE  AFTER  DEATH. 

1  John,  iii.  2,  3. 

''  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God;  and  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be:  but  we  know  that, 
when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him;  for  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is.  And  every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in 
him,  purifieth  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure. ^^ 

When  the  text  tells  us  "  that  every  man,  that  hath 
this  hope  in  him,  purifieth  himself,"  it  must  be  un- 
derstood as  intending  to  describe  the  natural,  proper, 
and  genuine  effects  of  this  hope,  rather  perhaps  than 
the  actual  effects,  or  at  least  as  effects,  which,  in  point 
of  experience,  universally  follow  from  it.  As  hath  al- 
ready been  observed,  the  whole  text  relates  to  sincere 
christians  and  to  these  alone;  the  word  rue,  in  the  pre- 
ceding part  of  it,  comprises  sincere  christians  and  no 
others.  Therefore  the  word  every  man  must  be  limi- 
ted to  the  same  sort  of  men,  of  whom  he  was  speaking 
before.  It  is  not  probable,  that  in  the  same  sentence 
he  would  change  the  persons  and  characters  concern- 
ing whom  he  discoursed;  so  that  if  it  had  been  objec- 


SERMON  V.  (39 

ted  to  St.  John,  that,  in  point  of  fact,  every  man  did 
not  purify  himself  who  had  this  hope  in  him,  he  would 
have  replied,  I  believe,  that  these  were  not  the  kind 
of  persons  he  had  in  his  view;  that,  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  text,  he  had  in  contemplation  the  reli- 
gious condition  and  character  of  sincere  christians  and 
no  other.  When,  in  the  former  part  of  the  text,  he 
talked  of  we  being  the  sons  of  God,  of  we  being  like 
Christ,  he  undoubtedly  meant  sincere  christians  alone : 
and  it  would  be  strange  if  he  meant  any  other  in  this 
latter  part  of  the  text,  which  is  in  fact  a  continuation 
of  the  same  discourse,  of  the  same  subject,  nay,  a  por- 
tion  of  the  same  sentence. 

I  have  said  thus  much  in  order  to  obviate  the  con- 
trariety, which  there  seems  to  be  between  St.  John's 
assertion  and  experience.  Experience,  I  acknowledge, 
proves  the  inefficacy  in  numerous  cases  of  religious 
hope  and  religious  motives:  and  it  must  be  so:  for  if 
religious  motives  operated  certainly  and  necessarily : 
if  they  produced  their  effect  by  an  infallible  power 
over  the  mind,  we  should  only  be  machines  necessa- 
rily actuated;  and  that  certainly  is  not  the  thing,  which 
a  moral  agent,  a  religious  agent,  was  intended  to  be. 
It  was  intended  that  we  should  have  the  power  of 
doing  right,  and,  consequently,  of  doing  wrong:  for 
he,  who  cannot  do  wrong,  cannot  do  right  by  choice ; 
he  is  a  mere  tool  and  instrument,  or  rather  a  machine* 
whichever  he  does.  Therefore  all  moral  motives,  and 
all  religious  motives,  unless  they  went  to  deprive  man 
of  his  liberty  entirely,  which  they  most  certainly  were 


70  SERMON  V. 

not  meant  to  do,  must  depend  for  their  influence  and 
success  upon  the  man  himself. 

This  success,  therefore,  is  various,  but,  when  it 
fails,  it  is  owing  to  some  vice  and  corruption  in  the 
mind  itself.  Some  men  are  very  little  affected  by  re- 
ligious exhortation  of  any  kind,  either  by  hearing  or 
reading.  That  is  a  vice  and  corruption  in  the  mind 
itself.  Some  men,  though  affected,  are  not  affected 
sufficiently  to  influence  their  lives.  That  is  a  vice  and 
corruption  in  the  mind,  or  rather  in  the  heart:  and  so 
it  will  always  be  found;  but  I  do  not  so  much  wonder 
at  persons  being  unaffected  by  what  others  tell  them, 
be  those  others  who  they  may,  preachers  or  teachers, 
or  friends,  or  parents,  as  I  wonder  at  seeing  men  not 
affected  by  their  own  thoughts,  their  own  meditations : 
yet  it  is  so;  and  when  it  is  so,  it  argues  a  deep  cor- 
ruption of  mind  indeed.  We  can  think  upon  the  most 
serious,  the  most  solemn  subjects  without  any  sort  of 
consequence  upon  our  lives.  Shall  we  call  this  seared 
insensibility?  shall  we  call  it  a  fatal  inefficacy  of  the 
return  of  principle  within  us?  shall  we  confess,  that 
the  mind  has  lost  its  government  over  the  man? 

These  are  observations  upon  the  state  of  morals  and 
religion,  as  we  see  them  in  the  world,  but  whatever 
these  observations  be,  it  is  still  true,  and  this  is  St. 
John's  assertion,  that  the  proper,  natural,  and  genuine 
effect  of  religious  hope  is  to  cause  us  to  strive  "  to 
purify  ourselves,  even  as  he  is  pure. "  St.  John  strongly 
fixes  our  attention,  I  mean  as  he  means,  such  of  us  as 


SERMON  V.  .  71 

are  sincere  christians,  upon  what  we  are  to  be  hereaf- 
ter. This,  as  to  particulars,  is  veiled  from  us,  as  we 
have  observed,  by  our  present  nature,  but  as  to  gene- 
rals, as  to  what  is  of  real  importance  and  concern  for 
us  to  know,  (I  do  not  mean  but  that  it  might  be 
highly  gratifying  and  satisfactory  to  know  more,)  but 
as  to  what  is  of  the  first  importance  and  concern  for 
us  to  know,  we  have  a  glorious  assurance  of,  we  have 
an  assurance,  that  we  shall  undergo  a  change  in  our 
nature  infinitely  for  the  better ;  that  when  he  shall  ap- 
pear glorified  as  he  is,  we  shall  be  like  him.  Then  the 
point  is,  what  we  are  to  do,  how  we  are  to  act  under 
this  expectation,  having  this  hope,  with  this  prospect 
placed  before  our  eyes.  St.  John  tells  us  "  we  are  to 
purify  ourselves,  even  as  he  is  pure." 

Now  what  is  the  scriptural  meaning  of  purifying 
ourselves  can  be  made  out  thus.  The  contrary  of  purity 
is  defilement,  that  is  evident;  but  our  Saviour  himself 
hath  told  us  what  the  things  which  defile  a  man  are, 
and  this  is  the  enumeration :  evil  thoughts,  adulteries, 
fornications,  murders,  thefts,  covetousness,  wicked- 
ness, deceit,  lasciviousness,  an  evil  eye,  blasphemy, 
pride,  foolishness,  and  the  reason  given,  why  these 
are  the  real  proper  defilements  of  our  nature,  is,  that 
they  proceed  from  within,  out  of  the  heart:  these  evil 
things  come  from  within,  and  defile  the  man.  The 
seat,  therefore,  of  moral  defilement,  according  to  our 
Saviour,  is  the  heart,  by  which  we  know,  that  he  al- 
ways meant  the  aftections  and  the  disposition:  the 
seat,  therefore,  of  moral  purity,  must  necessarily  be 


72  SERMON  V. 

the  same;  for  purity  is  the  reverse  of  defilement;  con- 
sequently, to  purify  ourselves,  is  to  cleanse  our  hearts 
from  the  presence  and  pollution  of  sin,  of  those  sins, 
particularly,  which  reside  in,  and  continue  in  the  heart. 
This  is  the  purgation  intended  in  our  text.  This  is 
the  test  of  purgation  enjoined  upon  us. 

It  is  to  be  noticed,  that  it  goes  beyond  the  mere 
control  of  our  actions.  It  adds  a  further  duty,  the  pu- 
rifying of  our  thoughts  and  affections.  Nothing  can  be 
more  certain,  than  that  it  was  the  design  of  our  Saviour, 
in  the  passage  here  referred  to,  to  direct  the  attention 
of  his  disciples  to  the  heart,  to  that  >vhich  is  within  a 
man,  in  contra-distinction  to  that  which  is  external. 
Now  he,  who  only  strives  to  control  his  outward  ac- 
tion, but  lets  his  thoughts  and  passions  indulge  them- 
selves without  check  or  restraint,  does  not  attend  to 
that  which  is  within  him,  in  contra-distinction  to  that 
which  is  external.  Secondly,  the  instances  which  our 
Saviour  has  given,  though,  like  all  instances  in  scrip- 
ture, and  to  sa\  the  truth,  in  all  ancient  writings,  they 
be  specimens  and  illustrations  of  his  meaning,  as  to 
the  kind  and  nature  of  the  duties,  or  the  vices  which 
he  had  in  view,  rather  than  complete  catalogues,  in- 
cluding all  such  duties  or  vices  by  name,  so  that  no 
other  but  what  are  thus  named  and  specified  were  in- 
tended: though  this  qualified  way  of  understanding 
the  enumerations  be  right,  yet  even  this  enumeration 
itself  shows,  that  our  Saviour's  lesson  went  beyond 
the  mere  external  action.  Not  only  are  adulteries  and 
fornications  mentioned,  but  e^il  thoughts  .and  lascivi- 


SERMON  V.  7$ 

ousncss;  not  only  murders,  but  an  evil  eye;  not  only 
tliefts,  but  covetousness  or  covetings.  Thus  by  laying 
the  ax  to  the  root,  not  by  lopping  off  the  branches,  but 
by  laying  the  ax  to  the  root,  our  Saviour  fixed  the 
only  rule,  which  can  ever  produce  good  morals. 

Merely  controlling  the  actions,  without  governing 
the  thoughts  and  affections,  will  not  do.  In  point  of 
fact  it  is  never  successful.  It  is  certainly  not  a  compli- 
ance with  our  Saviour's  command,  nor  is  it  what  St. 
John  meant  in  the  text  by  purifying  ourselves. 

"  Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  him  purifieth 
himself,  even  as  he,  namely  Christ  himself,  is  pure." 
It  is  a  doctrine  and  lesson  of  the  new  testament,  not 
once,  but  repeatedly  inculcated,  that  if  we  hope  to  re- 
semble Christ  in  his  glorified  state,  we  must  resemble 
him  in  his  human  state.  And  it  is  a  part,  and  a  most 
significant  part  of  this  doctrine,  that  the  resemblance 
must  consist  in  purity  from  sin,  especially  from  those 
sins  which  cleave  and  attach  to  the  heart.  It  is  by  St. 
Paul  usually  put  thus.  "  If  we  be  dead  with  Christ, 
we  believe  that  we  shall  also  live  with  him;"  "dead 
with  Christ;"  what  can  that  mean,  for  the  Apostle 
speaks  to  those  who  had  not  yet  undergone  natural 
death?  He  explains. — "  Reckon  yourselves  to  be 
dead  unto  sin;"  that,  you  hear,  is  the  death  he  means. 
*'  He  that  is  dead,  is  freed  from  sin ;"  that  is  St.  Paul's 
own  exposition  of  his  own  words;  and  then,  keeping 
the  sense  of  the  words  in  his  thoughts,  he  adds;  "  if 
M'-e  be  dead  with  Christ,  we  belie^'e,  that  we  shall  also 

K 


74  SERMON  V. 

live  with  him.  iVgain;  still  keeping  the  same  sense  iii' 
view,  and  no  other  sense:  "  if  we  have  been  planted  to- 
gether in  the  likeness  of  His  deaths  we  shall  be  also  in 
the  likeness  of  his  resurrection;  once  more,  but  still 
observe  in  the  same  sense,  "  we  are  buried  with  him 
by  baptism  unto  death;  our  old  man  is  crucified  with 
him."  The  burthen  of  the  whole  passage  is,  that  if  we 
hope  to  resemble  what  Christ  is  in  heaven,  we  must 
resemble  what  he  was  upon  earth:  and  that  this  resem- 
blance must  consist  specifically  in  the  radical  casting 
off  of  our  sins.  The  expressions  of  the  apostle  are  very 
strong;  "  that  the  body  of  sin  may  be  destroyed.  Let 
not  sin  reign  in  your  mortal  body;  obey  it  not  in  the 
lusts  thereof;"  not  only  in  its  practices,  but  in  its  de- 
sires. "  Sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you." 

In  another  epistle,  that  to  the  Colossians,  St.  Paul 
speaks  of  an  emancipation  from  sin,  as  a  virtual  rising 
from  the  dead,  like  as  Christ  rose  from  the  dead.  "  If 
ye  then  be  risen  with  Christ,  seek  those  things,  that 
are  above,  where  Christ  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of 
God;  set  your  affections  on  things  above,  not  on  things 
of  the  earth ;  for  ye  are  dead,  and  your  life  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God.  When  Christ,  who  is  our  life,  shall 
appear,  then  shall  ye  also  appear  with  him  in  glory.'' 
In  this  way  is  the  comparison  carried  on;  and  what  is 
the  practical  exhortation  which  it  suggests  ?  "  Mortify 
therefore  your  members  which  are  upon  the  earth,  for- 
nication, uncleanness,  evil  concupiscence,  and  covet- 
ousness:"  which  is  an  equivalent  exhortation,  and 
drawn  from  the  same  premises  as  that  of  the  text; 
*'  purify  yourselves,  even  as  he  is  pure." 


SERMON  V.  75 

The  scriptures  then  teach,  that  we  are  to  make 
ourselves  like  Christ  upon  earth,  that  we  may  become 
like  him  in  heaven,  and  this  likeness  is  to  consist  in 
purity. 

Now  there  is  a  class  of  christians,  and,  I  am  ready 
to  allow,  real  christians,  to  whom  this  admonition  of 
the  text  is  peculiarly  necessary. 

They  are  not  those,  who  set  aside  religion,  they  are 
not  those,  who  disregard  the  will  of  their  Maker,  but 
they  are  those,  who  endeavour  to  obey  him  partially, 
and  in  this  waj  :  finding  it  an  easier  thing  to  do  good 
than  to  expel  their  sins,  especially  those,  which  cleave 
to  their  hearts,  their  affections  or  their  imaginations, 
they  set  their  endeavours  more  towards  beneficence 
than  purity.  You  say  we  ought  not  to  speak  disparag- 
ingly of  doing  good;  by  no  means,  but  we  affirm,  that 
it  is  not  the  whole  of  our  duty,  nor  the  most  difficult 
part  of  it;  in  particular,  it  is  not  that  part  of  it,  which  is 
insisted  upon  in  the  text,  and  in  those  other  scriptures, 
that  have  been  mentioned.  The  text,  enjoining  the  imi- 
tation  of  Christupon  earth,  in  orderthat  we  may  become 
like  him  in  heaven,  does  not  say,  do  good  even  as  he 
went  about  doing  good:    but  it  says,  *'  purify  your- 
selves  even  as  he  is  pure. "  So  saith  St.  John;  "  morti- 
fy the  deeds  of  the  body,  let  not  sin  reign  in  you,  die 
with  Christ  unto  sin,  be  baptized  unto  Jesus  Christ, 
that  is  unto  his  death,  be  buried  with  him  by  baptism 
imto  death,  be  planted  togcdicr  in  the  likeness  of  his 
death,  crucify  the  old  man.  and  destroy  the  bodv  of 


76  SERMON  V. 

sin;  as  death  halh  no  more  dominion  over  him,  so  let 
sin  no  more  reign  in  your  mortal  bodies."  So  St.  Paul. 
All  these  strong  and  significant  metaphors  are  for  the 
purpose  of  impressing  more  forcibly  upon  us  this 
great  lesson:  that  to  participate  with  Christ  in  his  glory, 
we  must  participate  with  him  in  his  humiliation;  and 
that  this  participation  consists  in  divesting  ourselves 
of  those  sins,  of  the  heart  especially,  and  affections, 
whether  they  break  out  into  action  or  not,  which  are 
inconsistent  with  that  purity,  of  which  he  left  us  an 
example,  and  to  the  attainment  and  preservation  of 
which  purity,  we  are  most  solemnly  enjoined  to  direct 
our  first,  strongest,  and  our  most  sincere  endeavours. 


SERMON  VI. 


TASTE  FOR  DEVOTION. 

John,  iv.  23,  24. 

"  But  the  hour  comet h^  and  now  isy  when  the  true 
worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in 
truth:  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him. 
God  IS  a  spirit;  and  they  that  worship  him^  must  wor- 
ship him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.'''' 

A  TASTE  and  relish  for  religious  exercise,  or  the 
want  of  it,  is  one  of  the  murks  and  tokens,  by  which 
we  may  judge,  whether  our  heart  be  right  towards 
God  or  not.  God  is  unquestionably  an  object  of  de- 
votion to  every  creature,  which  he  has  made  capable 
of  devotion;  consequently,  our  minds  can  never  be 
right  towards  him,  unless  they  be  in  a  devotional  frame. 
It  cannot  be  disputed,  but  that  the  Author  and  Giver  of 
all  things,  upon  whose  will,  and  whose  mercy  wc  de- 
pend for  every  thing  we  have,  and  for  every  thing  we 
look  for,  ought  to  live  in  the  thoughts  and  affections 
of  his  rational  creatures.  "  Through  thee  have  I  been 


78  SERMON  VI. 

holden  up  ever  since  I  was  born:  thou  art  he,  that 
took  me  from  my  mother's  womb^  my  praise  shall  be 
always  of  thee."  If  there  be  such  things  as  first  sen- 
timents towards  God,  these  words  of  the  Psalmist  ex- 
press them.  That  devotion  to  God  is  a  duty,  stands 
upon  the  same  proof  as  that  God  exists.  But  devotion 
is  an  act  of  the  mind  strictly.  In  a  certain  sense,  duty 
'to  a  fellow  creature  may  be  discharged,  if  the  outward 
act  be  performed,  because  the  benefit  to  him  depends 
upon  the  act.  Not  so  with  devotion.  It  is  altogether 
the  operation  of  the  mind.  God  is  a  spirit,  and  must 
be  worshipped  in  spirit,  that  is,  in  mind  and  thought. 
The  devotion  of  the  mind  may  be,  will  be,  ought  to 
be  testified  and  accompanied  by  outward  perform- 
ances and  expressions:  but,  without  the  mind  going 
along  with  it,  no  form,  no  solemnity  can  avail,  as  a 
service  to  God.  The  question  is,  whether  their  mind, 
and  thoughts,  and  affections  accompany  the  mode, 
which  men  adopt  or  not.  I  do  not  say,  that  modes  of 
worship  are  indiftbrcnt  things;  for  certainly  one  mode 
may  be  more  rational,  more  edifying,  more  pure  than 
another;  but  they  are  indifferent  in  comparison  with 
the  question,  whether  the  heart  attend  the  worship,  or 
be  estranged  from  it. 

These  two  points  then  being  true;  first,  that  devo- 
tion is  a  duty;  secondly,  that  the  heart  must  participate 
to  make  any  thing  we  do  devotion :  it  follows,  that  the 
heart  cannot  be  right  tow  ard  God,  unless  it  be  pos- 
sessed with  a  taste  and  relisli  for  his  service,  and  for 
what  relates  to  it. 


SERMON  VI.  79 

Men  may,  and  many  undoubtedly  do,  attend  upon 
acts  of  religious  worship,  and  even  from  religious 
motives,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  without  this  taste  and 
relish,  of  which  we  arc  speaking.  Religion  has  no  sa- 
vour for  ihem.  I  do  not  allude  to  the  case  of  those, 
who  attend  upon  the  public  worship  of  the  church,  or 
of  their  communion,  from  compliance  with  custom, 
merely  out  of  regard  to  station,  for  example's  sake 
merely,  from  habit  merely;  still  less  to  the  case  of 
those,  who  have  particular  worldly  views  for  so  doing. 
I  lay  the  case  of  such  persons  for  tlje  present  out  of 
the  question,  and  I  consider  only  the  case  of  those, 
who,  knowing  and  believing  the  ^vorship  of  God  to  be 
a  duty,  and  that  the  wilful  neglect  of  this,  as  of  other 
duties,  must  look  forward  to  future  punishment,  do 
join  in  worship  from  a  principle  of  obedience,  from  a 
consideration  of  those  consequences,  which  will  follow 
disobedience;  from  the  fear  indeed  of  God  and  the 
dread  of  his  judgments,  (and  so  far  from  motives  of 
religion,  yet  without  any  taste  or  relish  for  religious 
exercise  itself.  That  is  the  case  I  am  considering.  It  is 
not  for  us  to  presume  to  speak  harshly  of  any  conduct, 
which  proceeds,  in  any  manner,  from  a  regard  to  God, 
and  the  expectation  of  a  future  judgment.  God,  in 
his  scriptures,  holds  out  to  man  terrors,  as  well  as 
promises;  punishment  after  death,  as  well  as  reward. 
Undoubtedly  he  intended  those  motives,  which  he 
himself  proposes,  to  operate  and  have  their  influence. 
Wherever  they  operate,  good  ensues;  very  great  and 
important  good,  compared  with  the  cases,  in  which 
they  do  not  operate ;  yet  not  all   the  good  we  would 


3Q  SERMON  VI. 

desire,  not  all  which  is  attainable,  not  all  which  we 
ought  to  aim  at,  in  our  christian  course.  The  fear  of 
the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  knowledge :  but  calling 
it  the  beginning  implies  that  we  ought  to  proceed  fur- 
ther; namely,  from  his  fear  to  his  love. 

To  apply  this  distinction  to  the  subject  before  us; 
the  man,  who  serves  God  from  a  dread  of  his  displea- 
sure, and,  therefore,  in  a  certain  sense  by  constraint, 
is,  beyond  all  comparison,  in  a  better  situation,  as 
touching  his  salvation,  than  he,  who  defies  this  dread, 
and  breaks  through  this  constraint.  He,  in  a  word, 
who  obeys,  from  whatever  motive  his  obedience 
springs,  provided  it  be  a  religious  motive,  is  of  a  cha- 
racter, as  well  as  in  a  condition,  infinitely  preferable  to 
the  character  and  condition  of  the  man,  whom  no  mo- 
tives whatever  can  induce  to  perform  his  duty.  Still  it 
is  true,  that  if  he  feels  not  within  himself  a  taste  and 
relish  for  the  service  which  he  performs,  (to  gay  no- 
nothing  of  the  consideration,  how  much  less  acceptable 
his  service  may  be,)  and  for  devotion  itself,  he  wants 
one  satisfactory  evidence  of  his  heart  being  right  to- 
wards God.  A  further  progress  in  religion  will  give 
him  this  evidence,  but  it  is  not  yet  attained :  as  yet^ 
therefore,  there  is  a  great  deficiency. 

The  taste  and  relish  for  devotion,  of  which  we  are 
speaking,  is  what  good  men,  in  all  ages,  liave  felt 
strongly.  It  appears  in  their  history:  it  appears  in  their 
writings.  The  book  of  Psalms,  in  particular,  was,  great 
])art  of  it,  composed  under  the  impression  of  this  prin- 


SERMON  VI.  SI 

ciple.  Many  of  the  psalms  are  written  in  the  truest 
spirit  of  devotion,  and  it  is  one  test  of  the  religious 
frame  of  our  own  minds  to  observe  whether  we  have  a 
relish  for  these  compositions;  whether  our  hearts  arc 
stirred  as  we  read  them ;  whether  we  perceive  in  tliem 
words  alone,  a  mere  letter,  or  so  many  grateful  grati- 
fying sentiments  towards  God,  in  unison  with  what  wc 
ourselves  feel,  or  have  before  felt.  And  what  we  are 
saying  of  the  book  of  Psalms,  is  true  of  many  religious 
ijooks,  that  are  put  into  our  hands,  especially  books  of 
devotional  religion:  which,  though  they  be  human 
compositions,  and  nothing  more,  are  of  a  similar  cast 
with  the  devotional  writings  of  scripture,  and  excel- 
lently calculated  for  their  purpose.*  We  read  of  aged 
persons,  who  passed  the  greatest  part  of  their  time  in 
acts  of  devotion,  and  passed  it  with  enjoyment.  "  Anna, 
the  prophetess,  was  of  great  age,  which  departed  not 
from  the  temple  but  served  God  with  fastings  and 
prayers,  night  and  day."  The  first  christians  so  far  as 
can  be  gathered  from  their  history  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  and  the  Epistles,  as  well  as  from  the  subse- 
quent accounts,  that  are  left  of  them,  took  great  de- 

*  Amongst  these  I  particularly  recommend  the  prayers  and  de- 
votions annexed  to  the  new  Whole  Duty  of  Man.  Bishop  Burnet, 
in  speaking  of  such  kind  of  books,  very  truly  says,  "  By  the  fre- 
quent readfng  of  these  books,  by  the  relish  that  one  has  in  them, 
by  the  delight  they  give,  and  the  effects  they  produce,  a  man  will 
plainly  perceive,  whether  his  soul  is  made  for  divine  matters  or  not ; 
what  suitableness  there  is  between  him  and  them,  and  whether  he 
is  yet  touched  with  such  a  sense  of  religion,  as  to  be  capable  of  dedi- 
cating himself  to  it." 

L 


§2  SERMON  VI. 

light  in  exercises  of  devotion.  These  seemed  to  form- 
indeed,  the  principal  satisfaction  of  their  lives  in  tlu  ; 
world.  "  Continuing  daily  with  one  accord  in  the  tem- 
ple, and  breaking  bread,"  that  is,  celebrating  tht  iioly 
communion,  "from  house  to  house,  tht y  eat  ^heit  meat 
with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart,  praising  God." 
In  this  spirit  christians  set  out,  finding  the  greatest 
gratification,  they  were  capable  of,  in  acts  and  exer- 
cises of  devotion.  A  great  deal  of  what  is  said  in 
the  new  testament,  by  St.  Paul  in  particular,  about 
'^  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  rejoicing  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
rejoicing  in  hope,  rejoicing  in  consolation,  rejoicing  in 
themselves,  as  sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing,"  refer 
to  the  pleasure  and  the  high  and  spiritual  comfort, 
which  they  found  in  religious  exercises.  Much,  I  fear, 
of  this  spirit  is  fled.  There  is  a  coldness  in  our  devo- 
tions, which  argues  a  decay  of  religion  amongst  us. 
Is  it  true  that  men,  in  these  days,  perform  religious 
exercises  as  frequently  as  they  ought?  or  as  those  did, 
who  have  gone  before  us,  in  the  christian  course?  that 
is  one  question  to  be  asked:  but  there  is  also  another 
question  of  still  greater  importance,  viz.  do  they  find 
in  these  performances  that  gratification,  which  the  first 
and  best  disciples  of  the  religion  actually  found?  which 
"they  ought  to  find,  and  which  they  would  find,  did  they 
possess  the  taste  and  relish,  concerning  which  we  are 
discoursing,  and  which  if  they  do  not  possess,  they 
want  one  great  proof  of  their  heart  being  right  towards 
God. 

If  the  spirit  of  prayer,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  if 


SERMON  VI.  83 

the  taste  atid  relish  for  devotion,  if  a  devotional  frame 
of  mind  be  within  us,  it  will  show  itself  in  the  turn  and 
cast  of  our  meditations,  in  the  warmth,  and  earnest- 
ness, and  frequency  of  our  secret  applications  to  God 
in  prayer;  in  the  deep,  unfeigned,  heart-piercing,  heart- 
sinking  sorrow  of  our  confessions  and  our  penitence ; 
in  the  sincerity  of  our  gratitude  and  of  our  praise;  in 
our  admiration  of  the  divine  bounty  to  his  creatures; 
in  our  sense  of  particular  mercies  to  ourselves.  We 
shall  pray  much  in  secret.  We  shall  address  ourselves 
to  God  of  our  o\Mi  accord,  in  our  walks,  our  closet, 
our  bed.  Form,  in  these  addresses,  will  be  nothing. 
Every  thing  will  come  from  the  heart.  We  shall  feed 
the  flame  of  devotion  by  continually  returning  to  the 
subject.  No  man,  who  is  endued  with  the  taste  and 
relish  we  speak  of,  will  have  God  long  out  of  his  mind. 
Under  one  view  or  other,  God  cannot  be  long  out  of 
a  devout  mind.  ''  Neither  was  God  in  all  his  thoughts," 
is  a  true  description  of  a  complete  dereliction  of  reli- 
gious principle:  but  it  can,  by  no  possibility,  be  the 
case  with  a  man,  who  has  the  spirit  of  devotion,  or  any 
portion  of  that  spirit  within  him. 

But  it  is  not  in  our  private  religion  alone,  that  .the 
effect  and  benefit  of  this  principle  is  perceived.  The 
true  taste  and  relish,  we  so  much  dwell  upon,  will 
bring  a  man  to  the  public  worship  of  God;  and  what 
is  more,  will  bring  him  in  such  a  frame  ol  mind,  as 
to  enable  him  to  join  in  it  with  effect,  with  effect  as 
to  his  own  soul ;  with  effect  as  to  every  object,  both 
public  and  private,  intended  b}'  public  worship.  Wan 


84  SERMON  VI. 

derings  and  forgetfulness,  remissions  and  intermissions 
of  attention,  there  will  be;  but  these  will  be  fewer  and 
shorter,  in  proportion  as  more  of  this  spirit  is  prevalent 
within  us;  and  some  sincere,  some  hearty,  some  deep, 
some  true,  and,  as  we  trust,  acceptable  service  ^v•ill  be 
performed,  before  we  leave  the  place;  some  pouring 
forth  of  the  soul  unto  God  in  prayer  and  in  thanksgiv- 
ing, in  prayer  excited  by  Avants  and  weaknesses,  I  fear 
also,  by  sins  and  neglects  without  number;  and  in 
thanksgivings,  such  as  mercies,  the  most  undeserved, 
ought  to  call  forth  from  a  heart,  filled,  as  the  heart  of 
man  should  be,  with  a  thorough  consciousness  of  de- 
pendency and  obligation. 

All  forms  of  public  worship  must,  by  their  very 
nature,  be  in  a  great  degree  general,  that  is,  must  be 
calculated  for  the  average  condition  of  human  and  of 
christian  life;  but  it  is  one  property  of  the  devotional 
spirit,  which  we  speak  of,  to  give  a  particularity  to 
our  worship,  though  it  be  carried  on  in  a  congrega- 
tion of  fellow  christians,  and  expressed  in  terms,  which 
were  framed  and  concei\'ed  for  the  use  of  all. 

■  And  it  does  this,  by  calling  up  recollections,  which 
will  apply  most  closely,  and  bring  home  most  nearly, 
to  ourselves,  those  terms  and  those  expressions.  For 
instance,  in  public  worship,  we  thank  God  in  general 
terms,  that  is,  we  join  with  the  congregation  in  a 
general  thanksgiving;  but  a  devout  man  brings  to 
church  the  recollection  of  special  and  particular  mer- 
cies, particular  bounties,  particular  pro\idences.  par- 


SRUIMON  VI.  85 

ticular  deliverances,  particular  relief  recently  experi- 
enced, specially  and  critically  granted  in  the  moment 
of  want  or  danger,  or  eminently  and  supereminently 
vouchsafed  to  us  individually.  These  he  bears  in  his 
thoughts:  he  applies  as  he  proceeds;  that,  which  was 
general,  he  makes  close  and  circumstantial ;  his  heart 
rises  towards  God,  by  a  sense  of  mercies  vouchsafed 
to  himself.   He  does  not  however  confine  himself  to 
those  favours  of  providence,  which  he  enjoys  above 
manv  others,  or  more  than  most  others;  he  does  not 
dwell  upon  distinctions  alone ;  he  sees  God  in  all  his 
goodness,  in  all  his  bounty.  Bodily  ease,  for  instance, 
is  not  less  valuable,  not  less  a  mercy,  because  others 
are  at  ease,  as  well  as  himself.  The  same  of  his  health, 
the  use  of  his  limbs,  the  faculties  of  his  understanding. 
But  what  I  mean  is,  that  in  his  mind,  he  brings  to 
cliurch  mercies,  in  which  he  is  interested;  and  that 
the  most  general  expressions  of  thankfulness  attach 
with  him  upon  particular  recollections  of  goodness, 
particular  subjects  of  gratitude,  so  that  the  holy  fer- 
vour of  his  devotion  is  supported;  never  wants^  nor 
can  want,  materials  to  act  upon.  It  is  the  office,  there- 
fore, of  an  internal  spirit  of  devotion  to  make  worship 
personal.  We  have  seen  that  it  will  be  so  \\  Ith  thanks- 
srivins:.  It  will  be  the  same  likewise  with  everv  other 
part  of  divine  worship.  The  confession  of  sins  in  our 
liturgy,  and  perhaps  in  all  liturgies,  is  general;  but 
our  sins,  alas,  are  particular :  our  conscience  not  onl\ 
acknowledges  a  deplorable  vreakncss  and  imperfection 
in  the  discharge  of  our  duty,  but  is  stung  also  with 
remembrances  and  compunctions,  excited  by  particu  - 


86  '  SERMON  VI. 

lar  offences.  When  vre  come/  therefore,  to  confess 
our  sins,  let  memory  do  its  office  faithfully.  Let  these 
sins  rise  up  before  our  eyes.  All  language  is  imper- 
fect. Forrns.  intended  for  general  use,  must  consist  of 
general  terms,  and  arc  so  far  inadequate.  They  may 
be  rehearsed  by  the  lips  with  vcr}'-  little  of  application 
to  our  own  case.  But  this  rvil/  never  be  so,  if  the  spi- 
rit of  devotion  be  within  us.  A  devout  mind  is  exceed- 
ingly stirred,  when  it  has  sins  to  confess.  None  but  a 
hardened  sinner  can  even  think  of  his  sins  without 
pain.  But  when  he  is  to  lay  them,  M'ith  supplications 
for  pardon,  before  his  Maker;  when  he  is  to  expose 
his  heart  to  God,  it  will  always  be  with  powerful  in- 
"wai'd  feelings  of  guilt  and  calamity.  It  hath  been  well 
said  of  prayer,  that  prayer  will  cither  make  a  man 
leave  off  sinning,  or  sin  will  make  him  leave  off  prayer.. 
And  the  same  is  true  of  confession.  If  confession  be 
sincere,  if  it  be  such,  as  a  right  capacity  for  devotion 
will  make  it  to  be,  it  will  call  up  our  proper  and  par- 
ticular sins  so  distinctly  to  our  view,  their  guilt,  their 
danger,  their  end;  whither  they  are  carrying  us;  in 
Avhat  they  will  conclude;  that,  if  we  can  return  to 
them  again  without  molestation  from  our  conscience, 
then  religion  is  not  within  us.  If  we  have  approached 
God  in  his  worship,  so  inffectualiy  as  to  ourselves,  it 
is  because  we  have  not  worshipped  him  in  spirit;  we 
may  say  of  all  we  have  done,  "  we  drew  near  with  our 
lips,  but  our  hearts  were  far  from  him."" 

What  v.e  have  said  concerning  thanksgiving  and 
confession  is  likewise  true  of  prayer  universally.  The 
spirit  of  devotion  will  apply  our  prayers  to  our  wants. 


SERMON  Vl.  87 

.111  forms  of  vvorsliip,  be  they  ever  so  well  composed, 
it  is  impossible  to  exhibit  human  wants,  otherwise 
than  in  general  expressions.  But  devotion  will  apply 
them.  It  will  teach  every  man,  in  the  first  place,  to 
know  how  indii^ent,  how  poor  a  creature,  without  a 
continued  exercise  of  mercy  and  supply  of  bounty 
from  God,  he  would  be;  because  when  he  begins  to 
enumerate  his  wants,  he  will  be  astonished  at  their 
multitude.  What  are  we,  any  of  us,  but  a  complica- 
tion of  wants,  which  we  have  not  in  ourselves  the 
power  of  supplying?  But,  beside  those  numerous 
wants,  and  that  common  helplessness,  in  which  we  all 
partake,  every  man  has  his  own  sore,  his  own  grief, 
his  own  difficulties;  every  man  has  some  distress, 
which  he  is  suffering,  or  fearing.  Nay,  were  worldly 
wishes  satisfied,  was  worldly  prosperity  complete,  he 
has  always  what  is  of  more  consequence  than  worldly 
prosperity  to  pray  for,  he  has  always  his  sins  to  pra}- 
against.  Where  temporal  wants  are  few,  spiritual 
'wants  are  often  the  most  and  the  greatest.  The  grace 
of  God  is  always  wanted.  His  governing,  his  prevent- 
ing, his  inspiring,  his  assisting  grace  is  always  wanted. 
Here,  therefore,  is  a  subject  for  prayer,  were  there 
no  other;  a  subject  personally  and  individually  inter- 
esting in  the  highest  degree;  a  subject,  above  all  others,, 
upon  which  the  spirit  of  devotion  will  be  sure  to  fix. 

I  assign  therefore,  as  the  first  effect  of  a  right  spirit 
of  devotion,  that  it  gives  particularity  to  all  our  wor- 
ship. It  applies,  and  it  appropriates.  Forms  of  worship 
may  be  general,  but  a  spirit  of  devotion  brings  them 
home,  and  close  to  each  and  everv  one. 


88  SERMON  VI. 

'  One  happ\'  consequence  of  which  is,  that  it  prevents 
the  tediousness  of  worship.  Things,  which  interest  us, 
are  not  tedious.  If  we  find  worship  tedious,  it  is  be- 
cause it  does  not  interest  us,  as  it  ought  to  do.  We 
must  allow  (experience  compels  us  to  allow)  for  wan- 
derings and  inattentions,  as  amongst  the  infirmities  of 
our  infirm  nature:  But,  as  I  have  already  said,  even 
these  will  be  fewer  and  shorter,  in  proportion  as  we 
are  possessed  of  the  spirit  of  devotion.  Weariness 
will  not  be  perceived,  by  reason  of  that  succession  of 
devout  feelings  and  consciousnesses,  which  the  seve- 
ral offices  of  worship  are  calculated  to  excite.  If  our 
heart  be  in  the  business,  it  will  not  be  tedious.  If, 
in  thanksgiving,  it  be  lifted  up  by  a  sense  of  mercies, 
and  acknowledge  from  whom  they  proceed,  thanks- 
giving will  be  a  grateful  exercise,  and  not  a  tedious 
form.  What  relates  to  our  sins  and  wants,  though  not 
of  the  same  gratifying  nature,  though  accompanied 
with  deep,  nay,  with  afflicting  cause  of  humiliation 
and  fear,  must,  nevertheless,  be  equally  interesting,  or 
more  so,  because  it  is  of  equal  concernment  to  us,  or 
of  greater.  In  neither  case,  therefore,  if  our  duty  be 
performed,  as  it  ought  to  be,  will  tediousness  be  per- 
ceived. 

I  say,  that  the  spirit  of  devotion  removes  from  the 
worship  of  God  the  perception  of  tediousness,  and 
with  that  also  every  disposition  to  censure  or  cavil  at 
particular  phrases,  or  expressions  used  in  public  wor- 
ship. All  such  faults,  even  if  they  be  real,  and  such 
observations  upon  thera,  are  absorbed  by  the  immense 


8EHMON  VI.  89 

importance  of  the  business,  in  which  wc  arc  engaged. 
Quickness  in  discovering  blemishes  of  this  sort  is  not 
the  gift  of  a  pious  mind;  still  less  either  levity  or  acri- 
mony in  speaking-  of  them. 

Moreover,  the  spirit  of  devotion  reconciles  us  to 
repetitions.  In  other  subjects  repetition  soon  becomes 
tiresome  and  offensive.  In  devotion  it  is  different. 
Deep,  earnest,  heartfelt  devotion  naturally  vents  itself 
in  repetition. — Observe  a  person  racked  by  cx'cru- 
ciating  bodily  pain;  or  a  person  suddenly  struck  with 
the  news  of  some  dreadful  calamity;  or  a  person 
labouring  under  some  cutting  anguish  of  soul;  and 
you  will  always  find  him  breaking  out  into  ejacula- 
tions, imploring  from  God  support,  mercy,  and  relief, 
over  and  over  again,  uttering  the  same  prayer  in  the 
same  words.  Nothing  he  finds  suits  so  well  the  ex- 
tremity of  his  sufferings,  the  urgency  of  his  wants,  as 
a  continual  recurrence  to  the  same  cries,  and  the 
same  call  for  divine  aid.  Our  Lord  himself,  in  his 
last  agony,  affords  a  high  example  of  what  we  are 
saying.  Thrice  he  besought  his  heavenly  Father;  and 
thrice  he  used  the  same  words:  repetition  therefore 
is  not  only  tolerable  in  devotion,  but  it  is  natural:  it  is 
even  dictated  by  a  sense  of  suffering,  and  an  acute - 
ness  of  feeling.  It  is  coldness  of  affection,  which  re- 
quires to  be  enticed  and  gratified  by  continual  novelty 
of  idea,  or  expression,  or  action.  The  repetitions  and 
prolixity  of  pharisaical  prayers,  which  our  Lord  cen- 
sures, are  to  be  understood  of  those  prayers,  which 
run  out  into  mere  formality  and  into  great  length;  no 

M 


90  SERMON  VI. 

sentiment  or  affection  of  the  heart  accotnpanying- 
them;  but  uttered  as  a  task,  from  an  opinion,  (of 
which  our  Lord  justly  notices  the  absurdity;)  that 
they  should  really  be  heard  for  their  much  speaking. 
Actuated  by  the  spirit  of  devotion  we  can  never 
offend  in  this  way:  we  can  never  be  the  object  of  this 
censure. 

Lastly,  and  what  has  already  been  intimated,  tht 
spirit  of  devotion  will  cause  our  prayers  to  have  an 
effect  upon  our  practice.  For  example ;  if  we  repeated 
the  co7ifession  in  our  liturgy  with  a  true  penitential 
sense  of  guilt  upon  our  souls,  we  should  not  day  after 
day  be  acknowledging  to  God  our  transgressions  and 
neglects,  and  yet  go  on  exactly  in  the  same  manner, 
without  endeavouring  to  make  them  less  and  fewer. 
We  should  plainly  perceive  that  this  was  doing  nothing 
to^^■ards  salvation;  and  that,  at  this  rate,  we  may  be 
sinning  and  confessing  all  our  lives.   Whereas  was  the 
right  spirit  of  confessional  piety,  viz.  thoughtfulness 
of  soul,  within  us  at  the  time,  this  would  be  the  cer- 
tain benefit,  especially  in  the  case  of  an  often  repeated 
sin,  that  the  mind  would  become  more  and  more  con- 
cerned,  more  and  more  filled  with  compunction  and 
remorse,  so  as  to  be  forced  into  amendment.  Even  the 
most  heartfelt  confession  might  not  immediately  do 
for  us  all  that  we  could  wish:  yet  by  perseverance  in 
the  same,  it  would  certainly  in  a  short  time  produce  its 
desired  effect.  For  the  same  reason  we  should  not  time 
after  time  pray  that   we  might  thenceforward,  viz. 
after  each  time  of  so  praying,  lead  godly,  lighteous, 


SERMON  VI.  91 

and  sober  lives,  yet  persist,  just  as  usual,  in  ungodli- 
ness, unrighteousness,  and  intemperance.  The  thing 
would  be  impossible,  if  we  prayed  as  we  ought.  So 
likewise,  if  real  thankfulness  of  heart  accompanied 
our  thanksgiviyigs^  we  should  not  pray  in  vain,  that  we 
might  show  forth  the  praises  of  God,  not  only  with 
our  lips  but  in  our  lives.  As  it  is,  thousands  repeat 
these  words  without  doing  a  single  deed  for  the  sake 
of  pleasing  God,  exclusive  of  other  motives,  or  re- 
fraining from  a  single  thing  they  like  to  do  out  of  the 
fear  of  displeasing  him.  So  again,  every  time  we  hear 
the  third  service  at  church,  we  pray  that  God  would 
incline  our  hearts  to  keep  his  commandments;  yet 
immediately,  perhaps,  afterwards  allow  our  hearts  and 
inclinations  to  wander,  without  control,  to  whatever 
sinful  temptation  enticed  them.  This,  I  say,  all  pro- 
ceeds from  the  want  of  earnestness  in  our  devotions. 
Strong  devotion  is  an  antidote  against  sin. 

To  conclude,  a  spirit  of  devotion  is  one  of  the 
greatest  blessings;  and,  by  consequence,  the  want  of 
it  one  of  the  greatest  misfortunes,  which  a  christian 
can  experience.  When  it  is  present,  it  gives  life  to 
every  act  of  worship,  which  we  perform:  it  makes 
every  such  act  interesting  and  comfortable  to  our- 
selves. It  is  felt  in  our  most  retired  moments,  in  our 
beds,  our  closets,  our  rides,  our  walks.  It  is  sitrred 
within  us,  when  we  are  assembled  with  our  children 
and  servants  in  family  prayer.  It  leads  us  to  church, 
to  the  congregation  of  our  fellow  christians  there  col- 
lected; it  accompanies  us  in  our  joint  offices  of  reli- 


yo  SERMON  VI. 

gion  in  an  especial  manner ;  and  it  returns  us  to  our 
homes  holier,  and  happier,  and  better;  and  lastly,  what 
greatly  enhances  its  value  to  every  anxious  christian, 
it  aiFords  to  himself  a  proof  that  his  heart  is  right  to- 
wards God;  when  it  is  followed  up  by  a  good  life,  by 
abstinence  from  sin,  and  endeavours  after  virtue,  by 
avoiding  evil  and  doing  good,  the  proof  and  the  satis- 
faction to  be  drawn  from  it  are  complete. 


SERMON  VII. 

Oi'  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  CONVERSION 
Matthew,  ix.  13. 

''  I  am  not  come  to  call  the  righteous ^  hut  sinners^  to 
repentance.'''' 

It  appears  from  these  words,  that  our  Saviour  in  his 
preaching  held  in  view  the  character  and  spiritual  situa- 
tion of  the  persons  whom  he  addressed :  and  the  dif- 
ferences which  existed  amongst  men  in  these  respects : 
and  that  he  had  a  regard  to  these  considerations,  more 
especially  in  the  preaching  of  repentance  and  conver- 
sion. Now  I  think,  that  these  considerations  have  been 
too  much  omitted  by  preachers  of  the  gospel  since, 
particularly  in  this  very  article ;  and  that  the  doctrine 
itself  has  suffered  by  such  omission. 

It  has  been  usual  to  divide  all  mankind  into  two 
classes,  the  converted,  and  the  unconverted ;  and,  by 
so  dividing  them,  to  infer  the  necessity  of  conversion 
to  every  person  whatever.  In  proposing  the  subject 
under  this  form,  we  state  the  distinction,  in  my  opinion, 
too  absolutely,  and  draw  from  it  a  conclusion  too  uni- 


94>  SERMON  VII. 

versal:  because  there  is  a  class  and  description  oi' 
christians,  who,  having  been  piously  educated,  and 
having  persevered  in  those  pious  courses,  into  which 
they  were  first  brought,  are  not  conscious  to  them- 
selves of  ever  having  been  without  the  influence  of 
religion,  of  ever  having  lost  sight  of  its  sanctions,  of 
ever  having  renounced  them;  of  ever,  in  the  gene- 
ral course  of  their  conduct,  having  gone  against  them. 
These  cannot  properly  be  reckoned  either  converted 
or  unconverted.  They  are  not  converted,  for  they  are 
not  sensible  of  any  such  religious  alteration  having 
taken  place  with  them,  at  any  particular  time,  as  can 
properly  be  called  a  conversion.  They  are  not  uncon- 
verted, because  that  implies  a  state  of  reprobation, 
and  because,  if  we  call  upon  them  to  be  converted, 
(which,  if  they  be  unconverted,  we  ought  to  do)  they 
will  not  well  understand  what  it  is  we  mean  them  to 
do;  and,  instead  of  being  edified,  they  may  be  both 
much  and  unnecessarily  disturbed,  by  being  so  called 
upon. 

There  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  a  great  variety  of 
religious  condition.  It  arises  from  hence,  that  exhor- 
tations, and  calls,  and  admonitions,  which  are  of  great 
use  and  importance  in  themselves,  and  very  necessary 
to  be  insisted  upon,  are,  nevertheless,  not  wanted  by 
all,  are  not  equally  applicable  to  all,  and  to  some  are 
altogether  inapplicable.  This  holds  true  of  most  of 
the  topics  of  persuasion  or  warning,  which  a  christian 
teacher  can  adopt.  When  we  preach  against  presump- 
tion, for  instance,  it  is  not  because  we  suppose  that  all 
are  presumptuous;  or  that  it  is  necessary  for  all,,  or 


SERMON  VII.  95 

every  one,  to  become  more  humble,  or  diffident,  or 
apprehensive,  than  he  now  is :  on  the  contrary,  there 
may  amongst  our  hearers  be  low,  and  timorous,  and 
dejected  spirits,  who,  if  they  take  to  themselves  what 
we  say,  may  increase  a  disposition,  which  is  already 
too  much;  or  be  at  a  loss  to  know  what  it  is  herein 
that  we  would  enjoin  upon  them.  Yet  the  discourse 
and  the  doctrine  may,  nevertheless,  be  very  good ;  and 
for  a  great  portion  of  our  congregation  very  necessary. 
The  like,  I  think,  is  the  case  with  the  doctrine  of  con- 
version. If  we  were  to  omit  the  doctrine  of  conversion, 
we  should  omit  a  doctrine,  which,  to  many,  must  be 
the  salvation  of  their  souls.  To  them  all  calls  without 
this  call,  all  preachings  without  this  doctrine,  would  be 
in  vain:  and  it  may  be  true,  that  a  great  part  of  our 
hearers  are  of  this  description.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
we  press  and  insist  upon  conversion,  as  indispen-- 
sable  to  all  for  the  purpose  of  being  saved,  we  should 
mislead  some,  who  would  not  apprehend  how  they 
could  be  required  to  turn,  or  be  converted  to  religion, 
who  were  never,  that  they  knew,  either  indifferent  to 
it,  or  alienated  from  it. 

In  opposition,  however,  to  what  is  here  said,  there 
are  who  contend,  that  it  is  necessary  for  every  man 
living  to  be  converted,  before  he  can  be  saved.  This 
opinion  undoubtedly  deserves  serious  consideration, 
because  it  founds  itself  upon  scripture,  whether  rightly 
or  erroneously  interpreted  is  the  question.  The  portion 
of  scripture  upon  which  they,  who  maintain  the  opinion, 
chieflv  relv,  is  our  Saviour's  conversation  with  Nico- 


96  SERMON  VII. 

demus,  recorded  in  the  third  chapter  of  St.  John's 
gospel.  Our  Saviour  is  there  stated  to  have  said  to 
Nicodemus,  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot 
see  the  Kingdom  of  God;"  and  afterwards,  as  a  con- 
firmation, and,  in  some  sort  an  exposition  of  his  asser- 
tion, to  have  added,  "  except  a  man  be  born  of  water 
and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God."  It  is  inferred  from  this  passage,  that  all  persons 
whatever  must  undergo  a  conversion,  before  they  be 
capable  of  salvation ;  and  it  cannot  be  said  that  this  is 
a  forced  or  strained  inference ;  but  the  question  before 
us  at  present  is,  is  it  a  necessary  inference?  I  am  not 
unwilling  to  admit,  that  this  short,  but  very  remarkable 
conversation,  is  fairly  interpreted  of  the  gift  of  the  Spi- 
rit, and  that,  when  this  Spirit  is  given,  there  is  a  new 
birth,  a  regeneration ;  but  I  say,  that  it  is  no  where  de- 
termined, at  what  time  of  life  or  under  what  circum- 
stances, this  gift  is  imparted;  nay,  the  contrary  is 
intimated  by  comparing  it  to  the  blowing  of  the  wind, 
which,  in  its  mode  of  action,  is  out  of  the  reach  of  our 
rules  and  calculations:  ''the  wind  bloweth  where  it 
iisteth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst 
not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth ;  so  is 
every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit."  The  effect  of  this 
uncertainty  is,  that  we  are  left  at  liberty  to  pray  for 
spiritual  assistance,  and  we  do  pray  for  it,  in  all  stages, 
and  under  all  circumstances  of  our  existence.  We 
pray  for  it  in  baptism  for  those,  who  are  baptized;  we 
teach  those,  ^vho  are  catechised,  to  pray  for  it  in  their 
catechism;  parents  pray  for  its  aid  and  efficacy  to  give 
effect  to  their  parental  instructlofis;  to  preserve  the 


SERMON  VII.  97 

objects  of  their  love  and  care  from  sin  and  wickedness, 
and  from  every  spiritual  enemy.  ^Vc  pra}-  for  it,  par- 
ticularly in  the  office  of  confirmation,  for  young  per- 
sons just  entering  into  the  temptations  of  life.  There- 
fore s]:)iriLual  assistance  may  be  imparted  at  any  time, 
from  the  earliest  to  the  latest  period  of  our  existence; 
and,  whenever  it  is  imparted,  there  is  that  being  born 
of  the  Spirit  to  which  our  Saviour's  words  refer.  And, 
considering  the  subject  as  a  matter  of  experience,  if  we 
cannot  ordinarily  distinguish  the  operations  of  the  Spi- 
rit from  those  of  our  own  minds,  it  seems  to  follow, 
that  neither  can  we  distinguish  when  they  commence: 
so  that  spiritual  assistance  may  be  imparted,  and  the 
thing,  designated  by  our  Lord's  disccurse,  satisfied, 
without  such  a  sensible  conversion,  that  a  person  can 
fix  his  memory  upon  some  great  and  general  change, 
wrought  in  him  at  an  assignable  time.  This  con- 
sciousness of  a  great  and  general  change  may  be  the 
fact  with  many.  It  may  be  essentially  necessary  to 
many.  I  only  allege,  that  it  is  not  so  to  all,  so  that 
every  person,  who  is  not  conscious  of  such  a  change, 
must  set  himself  down  as  devoted  to  perdition. 

This,  I  repeat,  is  all  I  contend  for,  for  I  by  no 
me:\ns  intend  to  say,  that  any  one  is  without  sin,  and 
in  that  sense  not  to  stand  in  need  of  con^'ersion;  still 
less,  that  any  sin  is  to  be  allowed,  and  not,  on  the  con- 
trary, strenuously  and  sincerely  resisted  and  forsaken. 
I  only  maintain,  that  there  may  be  christians,  wlio  are, 
and  have  been  in  such  a  religious  state,  that  no  such 
thorough  and  radical  change,  as  is  usual) v  meant  by 

N 


yS  SERMON  VII. 

conversion,  is  or  was  necessary  for  them ;  and  tliat  they 
need  not  be  made  miserable  by  the  want  of  conscious- 
ness of  such  a  change. 

1  do  not,  in  the  smallest  degree,  mean  to  underva- 
lue, or  speak  lightly  of  such  changes,  whenever  or  in 
whomsoever  they  take  place;  nor  to  deny,  that  they 
may  be  sudden,  yet  lasting;  (nay,  I  am  rather  inclined 
to  think  that  it  is  in  this  manner  that  they  frequently 
do  take  place)  nor  to  dispute  what  is  upon  good  testi- 
mony alleged  concerning  conversion  brought  about 
by  affecting  incidents  of  life;  by  striking  passages  of 
scripture;  by  impressive  discourses  from  the  pulpit; 
by  what  we  meet  with  in  books,  or  even  by  single 
touching  sentences  or  expressions  in  such  discourses 
or  books.  I  am  not  disposed  to  question  these  relations 
unnecessarily,  but  rather  to  bless  God  for  such  in- 
stances, when  I  hear  of  them,  and  to  regard  them  as 
merciful  ordinations  of  his  providence. 

But  it  will  be  said,  that  conversion  implies  a  revo- 
lution of  opinion.  Admitting  this  to  be  so,  such  a 
change  or  revolution  cannot  be  necessary  to  all,  be- 
cause there  is  no  system  of  religious  opinions,  in  which 
some  have  not  been  brought  up  from  the  beginning. 
To  change  from  error  to  truth,  in  any  great  and  im- 
portant article  of  religious  belief,  deserves,  I  allow,  the 
name  of  conversion:  but  all  cannot  be  educated  in  er- 
ror, on  whatever  side  truth  be  supposed  to  lie. 

To  me,  then,  it  appears,  that,  although  it  cannot  be 


SERMON  VI 1.  99 

stated  with  safety,  or  without  leading  to  consequences 
which  may  confound  and  alarm  many  good  men,  that 
conversion  is  necessary  to  all,  and  under  all  circum- 
stances; yet  I  think,  that  there  are  two  topics  of  ex- 
hortation, which  together  comprise  the  whole  chris- 
tian life,  and  one  or  other  of  which  belongs  to  every 
man  living,  and  these  two  topics  are  conversion  and 
improvement;  when  conversion  is  not  wanted,  im- 
provement is. 

Now  this  respective  preaching  of  conversion  or  im- 
provement, according  to  the  respective  spiritual  con- 
dition of  those,  who  hear  us,  or  read  what  we  write, 
is  authorized  by  the  example  of  scripture  preaching, 
as  set  forth  in  the  New  Testament.  It  is  remarkable, 
that,  in  the  four  gospels  and  the  acts  of  the  apostles, 
we  read  incessantly  of  the  preaching  of  repentance, 
which  I  admit  to  mean  conversion.  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist's preaching  set  out  with  it.  Our  Lord's  own  preach- 
ing set  out  with  it.  It  was  the  subject  which  he  charged 
upon  his  twelve  Apostles  to  preach.  It  was  the  sub- 
ject which  he  sent  forth  his  seventy  disciples  to  preach. 
It  was  the  subject  which  the  first  missionaries  of  Chris- 
tianity pronounced  and  preached  in  every  place,  which 
they  came  to,  in  the  course  of  their  progress  through 
different  countries.  Whereas,  in  the  epistles,  written 
by  the  same  persons,  we  hear  proportionably  much  less 
of  repentance,  and  much  more  of  advance,  proficiency, 
progress  and  improvement  in  holiness  of  life;  and  of 
rules  and  maxims  for  the  leading  of  a  holy  and  godly 
life.  These  exhortations  t©  continual  improvement,  to 


100  SERMON  VH. 

sincere,  strenuous,  and  continual  endeavours  after  im- 
provement, are  delivered  under  a  variety  of  expres- 
sions, but  with  a  strength  and  earnestness  sufficient  to 
show  Avhat  the  Apostles  thought  of  the  importance  of 
what  they  were  teaching. 

Now  the  reason  of  the  difference  is,  that  the  preach- 
ing of  Christ  and  his  apostles,  as  recorded  in  the  gos- 
pels and  in  the  acts  of  the  apostles,  was  addressed  to 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  whom  they  called  upon  to  become 
disciples  of  the  new  religion.  This  call  evidently  im- 
plied repentance  and  conversion.  But  the  epistles, 
which  the  Apostles,  and  some  of  which  the  same  Apos- 
tles, wrote  afterwards,  were  addressed  to  persons  al- 
ready become  christians,  and  to  some,  who,  like  Timo- 
thy, had  been  such  from  their  earliest  youth.  Speaking 
to  these,  you  find  they  dwell  upon  improvement,  pro- 
ficiency, continued  endeavours  after  higher  and  greater 
degrees  of  holiness  and  purity,  instead  of  saying  so 
much  about  repentance  and  conversion.  This  conduct 
was  highly  rational,  and  was  an  adaptation  of  their  in- 
struction to  the  circumstances  of  the  persons,  whom 
they  addressed,  and  may  be  an  example  to  us,  in  mo- 
delling our  exhortations  to  the  different  spiritual  con- 
ditions of  our  hearers. 

Seeing,  then,  that  two  great  topics  of  our  preaching 
must  always  be  conversion  and  improvement,  it  re- 
mains to  be  considered,  who  they  are,  to  whom  we 
must  preach  conversion,  and  \\'ho  they  are,  to  whom 
we  must  preach  improvement. 


SERMON  VII.  101 

First,  Now  of  the  persons  in  our  cong-ret^ations,  to 
whom  we  not  only  niay,  but  must  preach  the  doctrine 
of  conversion  plainly  and  directly,  are  those,  \\  ho,  with 
the  name  indeed  of  christians,  have  hitherto  passed 
their  lives  without  any  internal  religion  whatever;  who 
have  not  at  all  thought  Upon  the  subject;  who,  a  few 
easy  and  customary  forms  excepted,  (and  which  with 
them  are  mere  forms,)  cannot  truly  say  of  themselves, 
that  they  have  done  one  action,  which  they  would  not 
have  done  equally,  if  there  had  been  no  such  thing  as 
a  God  in  the  world;  or  that  the}  have  ever  sacrificed 
any  passion,  any  present  enjoyment,  or  even  any  in- 
clination of  their  minds,  to  the  restraints  and  prohibi- 
tions of  religion;  with  whom  indeed,  religious  motives 
have  not  weighed  a  feather  in  the  scale  against  interest 
or  pleasure.  To  these  it  is  utterly  necessary  that  we 
preach  conversion.  At  this  day  we  have  not  Jews 
and  Gentiles  to  preach  to;  but  these  persons  are  really 
in  as  unconverted  a  state,  as  any  Jew  or  Gentile  could 
be  in  our  Saviour's  time.  They  are  no  more  christians, 
as  to  any  actual  benefit  of  Christianity  to  their  souls, 
than  the  most  hardened  Jew,  or  the  most  profligate 
Gentile  was  in  the  age  of  the  Gospel.  As  to  any  differ- 
ence in  the  two  cases,  the  difference  is  all  against  them. 
These  must  be  converted,  before  they  can  be  saved. 
The  course  of  their  thoughts  must  be  changed,  the 
very  principles,  upon  which  they  act,  must  l)e  chang- 
ed. Considerations,  which  never,  or  \vhich  hardly  cvef 
entered  into  their  minds,  must  deeply  and  perpetually 
engage  them. — Views  and  motives,  which  did  not  in- 
fluence them  at  all,  either  as  checks  from  doing  evil. 


102  SERMON  VII. 

or  as  inducements  to  do  good,  must  become  the  views 
and  motives  which  they  regularly  consult,  and  by 
■which  they  are  guided:  that  is  to  say,  there  must  be  a 
revolution  of  principle:  the  visible  conduct  will  follow 
the  change;  but  there  must  be  a  revolution  within. 
A  change  so  entire,  so  deep,  so  important  as  this,  I  do 
allow  to  be  a  conversion;  and  no  one,  who  is  in  the  si- 
tuation above  described,  can  be  saved  without  under- 
going it;  and  he  must  necessarily  both  be  sensible  of  it 
at  the  time,  and  remember  it  all  his  life  afterwards.  It 
is  too  momentous  an  event  ever  to  be  forgot.  A  man 
might  as  easily  forget  his  escape  from  a  shipwreck. 
Whether  it  was  sudden,  or  whether  it  was  gradual,  if 
it  was  effected,  (and  the  fruits  will  prove  that,)  it  was 
a  true  conversion:  and  every  such  person  may  justly 
both  believe  and  say  it  himself,  that  he  was  converted 
at  a  particular  assignable  time.  It  may  not  be  necessa- 
ry to  speak  of  his  conversion,  but  he  will  always  think 
of  it,  with  unbounded  thankfulness  to  the  Giver  of  all 
grace,  the  Author  of  all  mercies,  spiritual  as  well  as 
temporal. 

Secondly,  T'he  next  description  of  persons,  to  whom 
we  must  preach  conversion,  properly  so  called,  are 
those,  who  alloxv  themselves  in  the  course  and  habit  of 
some  particular  sin. — With  more  or  less  regularity 
in  other  articles  of  behaviour,  there  is  some  particular 
sin,  which  they  practise  constantly  and  habitually,  and 
allow  themselves  in  that  practice.  Other  sins  they 
strive  against;  but  in  this  they  allow  themselves. 
Now,  no  man  can  go  on  in  this  c  ourse,  consistently 


bERMON  VII.  103 

with  the  hope  of  salvation.  Therefore  it  must  be 
broken  off.  The  essential  and  precise  difference  be- 
tween  a  child  of  God  and  another  is,  not  so  much  in 
the  number  of  sins,  into  which  he  may  fall,  (though 
that  undoubtedly  be  a  great  difference,  yet  it  is  not  a 
precise  difference;  that  is  to  say,  a  difference,  in 
which  an  exact  line  of  separation  can  be  drawn)  but 
the  precise  difference  is,  that  the  true  child  of  God 
allows  himself  \\\  no  sin  whatever.  Cost  what  it  may, 
he  contends  against,  he  combats  all  sin;  which  he 
certainly  cannot  be  said  to  do,  who  is  still  in  the 
course  and  habit  of  some  particular  sin;  for,  as  to 
that  sin,  he  reserves  it,  he  compromises  it.  Against 
other  sins,  and  other  sorts  of  sin,  he  may  strive;  in 
this  he  allows  himself.  If  the  child  of  God  sin,  he 
does  not  allow  himself  in  the  sin :  on  the  contrary,  he 
grieves,  he  repents,  he  rises  again:  which  is  a  differ- 
ent thing  from  proceeding  in  a  settled  self-allowed 
course  of  sinning.  Sins,  which  are  compatible  with 
sincerity,  are  much  more  likely  to  be  objects  of  God's 
forgiveness,  than  sins  that  are  not  so;  which  is  the 
case  with  allowed  sins.  Are  there  then  some  sins,  in 
which  we  live  continually;  some  duties  which  we  con- 
tinually neglect?  we  are  not  children  of  God;  we  are 
not  sincere  disciples  of  Christ.  The  allowed  prevalence 
of  any  one  known  sin  is  sufficient  to  exclude  us  from 
the  character  of  God's  children.  And  we  must  be 
converted  from  that  sin,  in  order  to  become  such. 
Here  then  we  must  preach  conversion.  The  habitual 
drunkard,  the  habitual  fornicator,  the  habitual  cheat 
must  be  converted.  Now  such  a  change  of  principle 


104  SERMON  VII. 

of  opinion,  and  of  sentiment,  as  no  longer  to  allow 
ourselves  in  that,  in  which  we  did  allow  ourselves, 
and  the  actual  sacrifice  of  a  habit,  the  breaking  off  of 
a  course  of  sinful  indulgence,  or  of  unfair  gain,  in  pur- 
suance of  the  new  and  serious  views  which  we  have 
formed  of  these  subjects,  is  a  conversion.  The  break- 
ing off  of  a  habit,  especially  when  we  had  placed 
much  of  our  gratification  in  it,  is  alone  so  great  a 
thing,  and  such  a  step  in  our  christian  life,  as  to  merit 
the  name  of  conversion.  Then  as  to  the  time  of  our 
conversion,  there  can  be  little  question  about  that. 
The  drunkard  was  converted,  when  he  left  off  drink- 
ing; the  fornicator,  when  he  gave  up  his  criminal  in- 
dulgences, haunts  and  connexions;  the  cheat,  when 
he  quitted  dishonest  practices,  however  gainful  and 
successful:  provided,  in  these  several  cases,  that  reli- 
gious views  and  motives  influenced  the  determination, 
and  a  religious  character  accompanied  and  followed 
these  sacrifices. 

In  these  two  cases,  therefore,  men  must  be  con- 
verted, and'  live,  or  remain  unconverted  and  die.  And 
the  time  of  conversion  can  be  ascertained.  There 
must  that  pass  within  them,  at  some  particular  as- 
signable time,  which  is  properly  a  conversion,  and 
will,  all  their  lives,  be  remembered  as  such.  This 
description,  without  all  doubt,  comprehends  great 
numbers:  and  it  is  each  person's  business  to  settle 
with  himself,  whether  he  be  not  of  the  number;  if  he 
be,  he  sees  what  is  to  be  done. 


SERMON  VII.  105 

But  I  am  willing  to  believe,  that  there  are  very 
many  christians,  who  neither  have  in  an\  part  of  their 
lives  been  without  influencing  principles,  nor  have  at 
any  time  been  involved  in  the  habit  and  course  of  a 
particular  known  sin,  or  have  allowed  themselves  in 
such  course  and  practice.  Sins,  without  doubt,  they 
have  committed,  more  than  sufficient  to  humble  them 
to  the  dust;  but  they  have  not,  to  repeat  the  same 
words  again,  lived  in  a  course  of  any  particular  known 
sin,  whether  of  commission  or  neglect ;  and  by  deli- 
beration, and  of  aforethought,  allowed  themselves  in 
such  course.  The  convei'sion  therefore,  above  de- 
scribed, cannot  apply  to,  or  be  required  of,  such 
christians.  To  these  we  must  preach,  not  conversion, 
but  improvement.  Improvement,  continual  improve- 
ment, must  be  our  text  and  our  topic:  improvement 
in  grace,  in  piety,  in  disposition,  in  virtue.  Now,  I 
put  the  "  doctrine  of  improvement,"  not  merely  upon 
the  consideration,  which  yet  is  founded  upon  express 
scripture  authority,  that,  whatever  improvement  we 
miike  in  ourselves,  we  are  thereby  sure  to  meliorate 
our  future  condition,  receiving  at  the  hand  of  God  a 
proportionable  reward  for  our  efforts,  our  sacrifices, 
our  perseverance,  so  that  our  labour  is  never  lost,  is 
never,  as  St.  Paul  expressly  assures  us,  in  vam  in  the 
Lord:  though  this,  I  say,  be  a  firm  and  established 
ground  to  go  upon;  yet  it  is  not  the  ground,  upon 
which  I,  at  present,  place  the  necessity  of  a  constant 
progressive  improvem.ent  in  virtue.  I  rather  wish  to 
lay  down  upon  the  subject  this  proposition,  namely, 
that  continual  improvement  is  essential  in  the  chris- 

O 


106  SERMON  VII. 

fian  character,  as  an  evidence  of  its  sincerity;  that,  if 
^\  hat  we  have  hitherto  done  in  reHgion  has  been  done 
from  truly  religious  motives,  we  shall  necessarily  go 
on;  that,  if  our  religion  be  real,  it  cannot  stop.  There 
is  no  standing  still;  it  is  not  compatible  v/ith  the  nature 
of  the  subject;  if  the  principles,  which  actuated  us,  be 
principles  of  goodness,  they  must  continue  to  actuate 
us;  and,  under  this  continued  stimulus  and  influence, 
^ve  must  necessarily  grow  better  and  better.  If  this 
efl'ect  do  not  take  place,  the  conclusion  is,  that  our 
principles  are  weak,  or  hollow,  or  unsound.  Unless 
we  find  ourselves  grow  better,  we  are  not  right.  For 
example,  if  our  transgressions  do  not  become  fewer 
and  fewer,  it  is  to  be  feared,  that  we  have  left  off 
stri'.ing  against  sin,  and  then  we  are  not  sincere. 

I  appie'nend,  moreover,  that  with  no  man  living  can 
there  be  a  ground  for  stopping,  as  though  there  was 
nothing  more  left  for  him  to  be  done.  If  any  man  had 
this  reason  for  stopping,  it  was  the  Apostle  Paul.  Yet 
did  he  stop?  or  did  he  so  judge?  Hear  his  own  ac- 
count; "  This  I  do,  forgetting  those  things,  that  are 
behind,  (those  things  whereunto  I  have  already  attain- 
ed,) and  looking  forward  to  those  things  that  are  before 
(to  still  further  improvement,)  I  press  towards  the  mark 
for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus."  This  was  not  stopping:  it  was  pressing  on. 
The  truth  is,  in  the  way  of  christian  improvement  there 
is  business  for  the  best;  there  is  enough  to  be  done 
for  all- 


SERMON  VII.  iQ7 

First:  In  this  stage  of  the  christian  life,  it  is  fit  to 
suppose,  tliat  there  arc  no  enormous  crimes,  such  as 
mankind  universally  condemn  and  cry  out  against,  at 
present  committed  by  us:  yet  less  faults,  still  clearly 
^  faults,  arc  not  unfrequent  with  us,  are  too  easily  ex- 
cused, too  soon  repeated.   This  must  be  altered. 

Secondly:  We  may  not  avowedly  be  engaged  in  an\ 
course  or  habit  of  known  sin;  being  at  the  time  con- 
scious of  such  sin,  but  we  may  continue  in  some  prac- 
tices,  which  our  consciences  cannot,  and  would  not, 
upon  examination,  appro^'e,  and  in  which  we  have  al- 
lowed the  wrongness  of  the  practice  to  be  screened 
from  our  sight  b\'  general  usage,  or  by  the  example  of 
persons,  of  whom  we  think  well.  This  is  not  a  course 
to  be  proceeded  in  longer.  Conscience,  our  own  con- 
science, is  to  be  our  guide  i.i  all  things. 

Thirdly:  We  may  not  absolutely  omit  any  duty  tt; 
our  fan»iiies,  our  station,  our  neighbourhood,  or  the 
public,  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  but  might  not 
these  duties  be  more  effectually  performed,  if  they 
were  gone  about  with  more  diligence  than  we  have 
hitherto  used?  And  might  not  further  means  and  op- 
portunities of  doing  good  be  found  out,  if  we  took 
sufficient  pains  to  inquire  and  to  consider? 

Fourthly:  Again;  Even  where  less  is  to  be  blamed 
in  our  lives,  much  may  remain  to  be  set  right  in  our 
hearts,  our  tempers,  and  dispositions.  Let  our  affec- 
tions grow  more  and  more  pure  and  holy;  our  hearts 


108  SERMON  VII. 

more  and  more  lifted  up  to  God;  and  loosened  from 
this  present  world,  not  from  its  duties;  but  from  its 
passions,  its  temptations,  its  over  anxieties  and  great 
selfishness;  our  souls  cleansed  from  the  dross  and  cor- 
ruption, which  they  have  contracted  in  their  passage 
through  it. 

Fifthly:  It  is  no  slight  work  to  bring  our  tempers  to 
what  they  should  be:  gentle,  patient,  placable,  com- 
passionate; slow  to  be  offended,  soon  to  be  appeased; 
free  from  envy,  which,  though  a  necessary,  is  a  diffi- 
cult attainment ;  free  from  bursts  of  anger;  from  aver- 
sions to  particular  persons,  which  is  hatred;  able 
heartily  to  rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  and,  from 
true  tenderness  of  mind,  weeping,  even  when  we  can 
do  no  more,  with  them  that  weep ;  in  a  word,  to  put  on 
charity  with  all  those  qualities,  with  which  St.  Paul 
hath  clothed  it,  1  Cor.  xiii.  which  read  for  this  purpose. 

Sixthly:  Whilst  any  good  can  be  done  by  us,  we 
shall  not  fail  to  do  it;  but  even  when  our  powers  of 
active  usefulness  fail,  which  not  seldom  happens,  there 
still  remains  that  last,  that  highest,  that  most  difficult, 
and,  perhaps,  most  acceptable  duty  to  our  Creator, 
resignation  to  his  blessed  will  in  the  privations  and 
pains  and  afflictions,  with  which  we  are  visited;  thank- 
fulness to  him  for  all  that  is  spared  to  us,  amidst  much 
that  is  gone;  for  any  mitigation  of  our  sufferings,  any 
degree  of  ease,  and  comfort,  and  support,  and  assis- 
tance  which  we  experience.  Every  advanced  life,  every 
life  of  sickness,  or  misfortune,  affords  materials  for 


SERMON  Vll.  109 

virtuous  feelings.  In  a  word,  I  am  persuaded,  that 
there  is  no  state  whatever  of  christian  trial,  varied  and 
A'arious  as  it  is,  in  which  there  will  not  be  found  both 
matter  and  room  for  improvement;  in  \\^hich  a  true 
christian  will  not  be  incessantl}  striving,  month  by 
month,  and  year  by  year,  to  grow  sensibly  better  and 
better,  and  in  which  his  endeavours,  if  sincere,  and 
assisted,  as,  if  sincere,  they  may  hope  to  be  assisted  by 
God's  grace,  will  not  be  rewarded  with  success. 


SERMON  Mil 


PRAYER  IN  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST. 

Luke,  v.  16. 

"  Aijd  ht  •withdrew  himself  irito  the  wilderness  and 
prayed.'''' 

The  imitation  of  our  Saviour  is  justly  held  out  to 
us,  as  a  rule  of  life ;  but  then  there  are  many  things,  in 
which  we  cannot  imitate  him.  What  depends  upon  his 
miraculous  character  must  necessarily  surpass  our  en- 
deavours, and  be  placed  out  of  the  reach  of  our  imita- 
tion. This  reason  makes  those  particulars,  in  which 
we  arc  able  to  follow  his  example,  of  great  importance 
to  be  observed  by  us;  because  it  is  to  these  that  our 
hopes  of  taking  him  for  our  pattern,  of  treading  in  his 
footsteps,  is  necessarily  confined. 

Now,  our  Lord's  piety  is  one  of  these  particulars. 
We  can,  if  we  be  so  minded,  pray  to  God,  as  he  did. 
'We  can  aim  at  the  spirit,  and  warmth  and  earnestness 
of  his  devotions;  we  can  use  at  least,  those  occasions, 
and  that  mode  of  devotion,  which  his  example  points 
out  to  us. 


SERMON  VIU.  iJl 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  that  a  fulness  of  mental  devo- 
tion was  the  spring  and  source  of  our  Lord's  visible 
piety.  And  this  state  of  mind  we  must  acquire.  It  con- 
sists in  this  :  in  a  habit  of  turning  our  thoughts  to- 
wards God,  whenever  they  are  not  taken  up  with  some 
particular  engagement.  Every  man  has  some  subject 
or  other,  to  which  his  thouglits  turn,  when  they  arc 
not  particularly  occupied.  In  a  good  christian  this 
subject  is  God,  or  what  appertains  to  him.  A  good 
christian,  walking  in  his  fields,  sitting  in  his  chamber, 
lying  upon  his  bed,  is  thinking  of  God.  His  medita- 
tions draw,  of  their  own  accord,  to  that  object,  and  then 
his  thoughts  kindle  up  his  devotions;  and  devotion 
never  burns  so  bright,  or  so  warm,  as  when  it  is  light- 
ed up  from  within.  The  immensity,  the  stupendous 
nature  of  the  adorable  Being  who  made,  and  who  sup- 
ports every  thing  about  us,  his  grace,  his  love,  his 
condescension  towards  his  reasonable  and  moral  crea- 
tures, that  is,  toAvards  men;  the  good  things,  which 
he  has  placed  within  our  reach,  the  heavenly  happi- 
ness,  which  lie  has  put  it  in  our  power  to  obtain ;  the 
infinite  moment  of  our  acting  well  and  right,  so  as  not 
to  miss  of  the  great  reward,  and  not  only  to  miss  of 
our  reward,  but  to  sink  into  perdition ;  such  reflections 
will  not  fail  pf  generating  devotion,  of  moving  within 
us  either  prayer,  or  thanksgiving,  or  both.  This  is 
mental  devotion.  Perhaps  the  difference  between  a 
religious  and  an  irreligious  character  depends  more 
upon  this  mental  devotion,  than  upon  any  other  thing. 
The  difference  will  show  itself  in  men's  lives  and  con 
versations,  in  their  dealinii:s  Avith  mankind,  and  in  the 


112  .  SERMON  VIII. 

various  duties  and  offices  of  their  station;  but  it  origi- 
nates and  proceeds  from  a  difference  in  their  internal 
habits  of  mind,  with  respect  to  God,  in  the  habit  of 
thinking  of  him  in  private,  and  of  what  relates  to  him; 
in  cultivating  these  thoughts,  or  neglecting  them ;  in- 
viting them,  or  driving  them  from  us;  in  forming,  or 
in  having  formed  a  habit  and  custom,  as  to  this  point, 
unobserved  and  unobservable  by  others;  (because  it 
passes  in  the  mind,  which  no  one  can  see,)  but  of  the 
most  decisive  consequence  to  our  spiritual  character 
and  immortal  interests.  This  mind  was  in  Christ:  a 
deep,  fixed,  and  constant  piety.  The  expressions  of  it 
we  have  seen  in  all  the  forms,  which  could  bespeak 
correctness  and  sincerity ;  but  the  principle  itself  lay 
deep  in  his  divine  soul;  the  expressions  likewise  were 
occasional,  more  or  fewer,  as  occasions  called,  or  op- 
portunities offered,  but  the  principle  fixed  and  con- 
stant, uninterrupted,  unremitted. 

But  again,  our  Lord,  whose  mental  piety  was  so  un- 
questionable, so  ardent,  and  so  unceasing,  did  not, 
nevertheless,  content  himself  with  that.  He  thought  fit, 
we  find,  at  sundry  times,  and,  I  doubt  not  also,  very 
frequently,  to  draw  it  forth  in  actual  prayer,  to  clothe 
it  with  words,  to  betake  himself  to  visible  devotion, 
to  retire  to  a  mountain  for  this  express  purpose,  to 
withdraw  himself  a  short  distance  from  his  companions, 
to  kneel  down,  to  pass  the  whole  night  in  prayer,  or  in 
a  place,  devoted  to  prayer.  Let  all,  who  feel  their  hearts 
impregnated  with  religious  fervor,  remember  this  ex- 
ample: remember,  that  this  disposition  of  the  heart 


SERMON  V^IlI.  llo 

out^ht  to  vent  itself  in  actual  prayer;  let  tliem  not 
either  be  afraid  nor  ashamed,  nor  sufter  any  person, 
nor  any  thing  to  keep  tliem  from  this  holy  exercise. 
They  Mill  find  the  devout  dispositions  of  their  souls 
strengthened,  gratified,  confirmed.  This  exhortation 
may  not  be  necessary  to  the  generality  of  pious  tem- 
pers; they  will  naturally  follow  their  propensity,  and 
it  will  naturally  carry  them  to  prayer.  But  some,  even 
good  men,  are  too  abstracted  in  their  way  of  thinking 
upon  this  subject;  they  think,  that  since  God  seeth  and 
regardeth  the  heart,  if  their  ddvotion  be  there,  if  it  be 
within,  all  outward  signs  and  expressions  of  it  are  su- 
perfluous. It  is  enough  to  answer,  that  our  blessed 
Lord  did  not  so  think.  He  had  all  the  fulness  of  devo- 
tion in  his  soul,  nevertheless,  he  thought  it  not  super- 
fluous to  utter  and  pronounce  audible  prayer  to  God; 
and  not  only  so,  but  to  retire  and  withdraw  himself 
from  other  engagements;  nay  even  from  his  most  in- 
timate and  favoured  companions,  expressly  for  this 
purpose. 

Again:  Our  Lord's  retirement  to  pra}er  appears 
commonly  to  have  followed  some  signal  act  and  dis- 
play of  his  divine  powers.  He  did  every  thing  to  the 
glory  of  God;  he  referred  his  divine  powers  to  his  Fa- 
ther's gift;  he  made  them  the  subject  of  his  thankful- 
ness, inasmuch  as  they  advanced  his  great  work.  He 
followed  them  by  his  devotions.  Now  every  good  gift 
Cometh  down  from  the  Father  of  lights.  Whether  they  ^ 
be  natural,  or  whether  they  be  supernatural,  the  facul- 
ties, which  we  possess,  are  by  God's  donation ;  wherefore 

P 


114  SERMON  VIII. 

any  successful  exercise  of  these  faculties,  any  instance, 
in  which  we  have  been  capable  of  doing  something 
good,  properly  and  truly  so,  either  for  the  community 
which  is  best  of  all,  for  our  neighbourhood,  for  our  fa- 
milies, nay  even  for  ourselves,"  ought  to  stir  and  awaken 
our  gratitude  to  God,  and  to  call  forth  that  gratitude 
into  actual  devotion;  at  least,  this  is  to  imitate  our 
blessed  Lord,  so  far  as  we  can  imitate  him  at  all:  it 
is  adopting  into  our  lives  the  principle  which  regu- 
lated him. 

Again :  It  appears,  on  one  occasion  at  least,  that  our 
Lord's  retirement  to  prayer  was  preparatory  to  an  im- 
portant work,  which  he  was  about  to  execute.  The 
manner,  in  which  St.  Luke  states  this  instance,  is  thus: 
"  And  it  came  to  pass  in  those  days,  that  he  went 
out  into  a  mountain  to  pray,  and  continued  all  night  in 
prajer  to  God;  and  when  it  was  day,  he  called  unto 
him  his  disciples,  and  of  them  he  chose  twelve,  whom 
also  he  named  apostles."  From  this  statement  I  infer, 
that  the  night  passed  by  our  Lord  in  prayer,  was  pre- 
paratory to  the  office,  which  he  was  about  to  execute; 
and  surely  an  important  office  it  was;  important  to  him; 
important  to  his  religion;  important  to  the  whole  world. 
Nor  let  it  be  said,  that  our  Lord,  after  all,  in  one  in- 
stance at  least,  was  unfortunate  in  his  choice:  of  the 
twelve  one  was  a  traitor.  That  choice  was  not  error; 
a  remarkable  prophecy  was  to  be  fulfilled,  and  other 
purposes  were  to  be  answered,  of  which  we  cannot 
now  speak  particularly.  "  I  know,"  says  our  Lord, 
"  whom  I  have  chosen."  But  let  us  confine  ourselves 


SERMON  VIII.  115 

to  our  observation.  It  was  a  momentous  choice:  it  was 
a  decision  of  great  consequence:  and  it  w^as  accord- 
ingly, on  our  Lord's  part,  preceded  by  prayer ;  not 
only  so,  but  by  anight  spent  in  prayer.  "He  continued 
all  night  in  prayer  to  God;"  or,  if  you  would  rather 
so  render  it,  in  a  house,  set  apart  for  prayer  to  God. 
Here,  therefore,  we  have  an  example  given  us,  which 
we  both  can  imitate,  and  ought  to  imitate.  Nothing  of 
singular  importance;  nothing  of  extraordinary  moment, 
either  to  ourselves  or  others,  ought  to  be  resolved  upon, 
or  undertaken,  without  prayer  to  God,  without  previ- 
ous devotion.  It  is  a  natural  operation  of  piety  to  carry 
the  mind  to  God,  whenever  any  thing  presses  and 
weighs  upon  it:  they,  who  feel  not  this  tendency,  have 
reason  to  accuse  and  suspect  themselves  of  want  of 
piety.  Moreover,  we  have,  first,  the  direct  example  of 
our  Lord  himself;  I  believe  also,  I  may  add,  that  we 
have  the  example  and,  practice  of  good  men,  in  all 
ages  of  the  world. 

Again :  We  find  our  Lord  resorting  to  prayer  in  his 
last  extremity,  and  with  an  earnestness,  I  had  almost 
said,  a  vehemence  of  devotion,  proportioned  to  the  oc- 
casion. The  terms,  in  which  the  evangelists  describe 
our  Lord's  devotion  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemene, 
the  evening  preceding  his  death,  are  the  strongest 
terms  that  could  be  used.  As  soon  as  he  came  to  the 
place,  he  bid  his  disciples  pray.  When  he  was  at  the 
place,  he  said  unto  them,  "  Pray  that  ye  enter  not 
into  temptation."  This  did  not  content  him:  this  was 
not  enough  for  the  state  and  sufferings  of  his  mind. 
He  parted  even  from  them.  He  withdrew  about  a 


116  SERMON  Vlir. 

stone's  cast,  and  kneeled  down.  Hear  how  his  strug- 
gle in  prayer  is  described.  Three  times  he  came  to 
his  disciples,  and  returned  again  to  prayer;  thrice  he 
kneeled  down,  at  a  distance  from  them,  repeating  the 
same  words.  Being  in  an  agon}%  he  prayed  more  ear- 
nestly :  drops  of  sweat  fell  from  his  body,  as  if  it  had 
been  great  drops  of  blood;  yet  in  all  this,  throughout 
the  whole  scene,  the  constant  conclusion  of  his  prayer 
was,  "  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done."  It  was  the 
greatest  occasion  that  ever  was :  and  the  earnestness 
of  our  Lord's  prayer,  the  devotion  of  his  soul,  cor- 
responded with  it.  Scenes  of  deep  distress  await  us  all. 
It  is  in  vain  to  expect  to  pass  through  the  world,  with- 
out falling  into  them.  We  have,  in  our  Lord's  exam- 
ple, a  model  for  our  behaviour,  in  the  most  severe  and 
most  trying  of  these  occasions :  afflicted,  yet  resigned; 
grieved  and  wounded,  yet  submissive;  not  insensible 
of  our  sufferings,  but  increasing  the  ardor  and  fervency 
of  our  prayer,  in  proportion  to  the  pain  and  acuteness 
of  our  feelings. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  fortune  of  our  lives,  one 
great  extremity,  at  least,  the  hour  of  approaching 
death,  is  certainly  to  be  passed  through.  What  ought 
then  to  occupy  us?  what  can  then  support  us?  Prayer. 
Prayer,  with  our  blessed  Lord  himself,  was  a  refuge 
from  the  storm ;  almost  every  word  he  uttered,  during 
that  tremendous  scene,  was  prayer:  prayer  the  most 
earnest,  the  most  urgent;  repeated,  continued,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  recesses  of  his  soul ;  private,  soli- 
tary: prayer  for  deliverance;  prayer  for  strength; 
^bove  every  thing,  prayer  for  resignation. 


SERMON  IX 


ON  FILIAL  PIETY. 

Genesis,  xlvii.  12. 

"  And  Joseph  nourished  his  father,  mid  his  brethren^ 
and  all  his  fathers  household,  xvith  bread,  aecor'ding  to 
their  families,'''' 

Whoever  reads  the  Bible  at  all,  has  read  the  his- 
tory of  Joseph.  It  has  universally  attracted  attention: 
and,  without  doubt,  there  is  not  one,  but  many  points 
in  it,  which  deserve  to  be  noticed.  It  is  a  strong  and 
plain  example  of  the  circuitous  providence  of  God:  that 
is  to  say,  of  his  bringing  about  the  ends  and  purposes 
of  his  providence,  by  seemingly  casual  and  unsuspected 
means.  That  is  a  high  doctrine,  both  of  natural  and 
revealed  religion;  and  is  clearly  exemplified  in  this 
history.  It  is  an  useful  example,  at  the  same  time,  of 
the  protection  and  final  reward  of  virtue,  though  for  a 
season  oppressed  and  calumniated,  or  carried  through 
a  long  series  of  distresses  and  misfortunes.  I  say,  it 
is  an  useful  example,  if  duly  understood,  and  not  ur 
ged  too  far.  It  shows  the  protection  of  providence  to 
be  with  virtue  under  all  its  difficulties:  and  this  being 
believed  upon  good  grounds,  it  is  enough;  for  the 


118  SERMON  IX. 

virtuous  man  will  be  assured,  that  this  protection  will 
keep  with  him  i?i  and  through  ull  stages  of  his  exis- 
tence— living  and  dying  he  is  in  his  hands — and  for 
the  same  reason  that  it  accompanies  him,  like  an  in- 
visible guardian,  through  his  trials,  it  will  finally  re- 
compense him.  This  is  the  true  application  of  that 
doctrine  of  a  directing  providence,  which  is  illustrated 
by  the  history  of  Joseph,  as  it  relates  to  ourselves — I 
mean  as  it  relates  to  those,  who  are  looking  forward 
to  a  future  state.  If  we  draw  from  it  an  opinion,  or  an 
expectation,  that,  because  Joseph  was  at  length  re- 
warded with  riches  and  honours,  therefore  we  shall 
be  the  same,  we  carry  the  example  further  than  it  will 
bear.  It  proves  that  virtue  is  under  the  protection  of 
God,  and  will  ultimately  be  taken  care  of  and  rewar- 
ded: but  in  what  manner,  and  in  what  stage  of  our 
existence,  whether  in  the  present  or  the  future,  or  in 
both,  is  left  open  by  the  example:  and  both  may,  and 
must  depend,  upon  reasons,  in  a  great  measure,  un- 
known to  and  incalculable  by  us. 

Again:  The  history  of  Joseph  is  a  domestic  ex- 
ample. It  is  an  example  of  the  ruinous  consequences 
of  partiality  in  a  parent,  and  of  the  quarrels  and  con- 
tentions in  a  family,  which  naturally  spring  from  such 
partiality. 

Again :  It  ^s  a  lesson  to  all  schemers  and  confede- 
rates in  guilt,  to  teach  them  this  truth,  that,  when  their 
scheme  does  not  succeed,  they  are  sure  to  quarrel 
amongst  themselves,  and  to  go  into  the  utmost  bitter- 


SERMON  IX.  119 

ness  of  mutual  accusation  and  reproach;  as  the  bre- 
thren of  Joseph,  you  find,  did. 

*  Again:  It  is  a  natural  example  of  the  eft'ect  of  ad- 
versity, in  bringing  men  to  themselves,  to  reflections 
upon  their  own  conduct,  to  a  sense  and  perception  of 
milny  things,  which  had  gone  on,  and  might  have  gone 
on,  unthought  of  and  unperceived,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  some  stroke  of  misfortune,  which  roused  their  at- 
tention. It  was  after  the  brethren  of  Joseph  had  been 
shut  up  by  him  in  prison,  and  were  alarmed,  as  they 
well  might  be,  for  their  lives,  that  their  consciences,  sc 
far  as  appears,  for  the  first  time,  smote  them:  "  Wc 
are  verily  guilty  concerning  our  brother,  in  that  we 
saw  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  when  he  besought  us,  and 
would  not  hear."  This  is  the  natural  and  true  effect 
of  judgments  in  this  world,  to  bring  us  to  a  knowledge 
of  ourselves:  that  is  to  say,  of  those  bad  things  in 
our  lives,  which  have  deserved  the  calamities,  we  arc 
made  to  suffer. 

These  are  all  points  in  the  history:  but  there  is 
another  point  in  Joseph's  character,  which  I  make 
choice  of,  as  the  subject  of  my  present  discourse;  and 
that  is,  his  dutifulness  and  affection  to  his  father.  Never 
was  this  virtue  more  strongly  displayed.  H;  runs,  likt 
a  thread,  through  the  whole  narrative;  and  whether 
we  regard  it,  as  a  quality  to  be  admired,  or,  which 
would  be  a  great  deal  better,  as  a  quality  to  be  imi- 
tated by  us,  so  far  as  a  great  disparity  of  circumstances 
will  allow  of  imitation,  (which  in  principle  it  always 


12U  SERMON  IX. 

wiii  do,)  it  deserves  to  be  considered  with  a  separate 
and  distinct  attention. 

Wlien  a  surprising  course  of  events  had  given  to 
Joseph,  after  a  long  series  of  years,  a  most  unexpected 
opportunity  of  seeing  his  brethren  in  Egypt,  the  first 
question,  which  he  asked  them,  was,  "  Is  your  father 
yet  ahve?"  This  appears  from  the  account,  which 
Reuben  gave  to  Jacob,  of  the  conference,  which  they 
had  held  with  the  great  man  of  the  countr}^,  whilst 
neither  of  them,  as  yet,  suspected  who  he  was.  Joseph, 
you  remember,  had  concealed  himself,  during  their 
first  journey,  from  the  knowledge  of  his  brethren; 
and  it  was  not  consistent  with  his  disguise,  to  be  more 
full  and  particular,  than  he  was,  in  his  inquiries. 

On  account  of  the  continuance  of  the  famine  in  the 
land,  it  became  necessary  for  the  brethren  of  Joseph 
to  go  a  second  time  into  Egypt  to  seek  corn,  and  a 
second  time  to  produce  themselves  before  the  lord  of 
the  country.  What  had  been  Joseph's  first  question  on 
the  former  visit,  was  his  first  question  in  this,  "  Is 
your  father  well,  the  old  man  of  whom  ye  spake ;  is  he 
yet  alive?"  And  they  answered,  "  Thy  servant,  our 
father,  is  in  good  health;  he  is  yet  alive:"  and  they 
bowed  down  their  heads  and  made  obeisance. 

Hitherto  you  observe  all  had  passed  in  disguise. 
The  brethren  of  Joseph  knew  nothing  who  they  were 
speaking  to ;  and  Joseph  v/as  careful  to  preserve  the 
secret.  You  will  now  take  notice,  how  this  affected 


SERMON  IX.  i21 

disguise  was  broken,  and  how  Joseph  found  himself 
forced,  as  it  were,  from  the  resolution,  he  had  taken, 
of  keeping  his  brethren  in  ignorance  of  his  person. 
He  had  proposed,  you  read,  to  detain  Benjamin ;  the 
rest  being  perplexed  beyond  measure,  and  distressed 
by  this  proposal,  Judah,  approaching  Joseph,  presented 
a  most  earnest  supplication  for  the  deliverance  of  the 
child;  offers  /!?mc//*  lo  remain  Joseph's  prisoner,  or 
slave,  in  his  brother's  place;  and,  in  the  conclusion, 
touches,  unknowingly,  upon  a  string,  which  vibrates 
with  all  the  affections  of  the  person,  whom  he  was  ad- 
dressing. "  How  shall  I  go  up  to  my  father,  and  the 
lad  be  not  with  me,  lest  peradventure  I  see  the  evil 
that  shall  come  on  my  father?"  The  mention  of  this 
circumstance,  and  this  person,  subdued  immediately 
the  heart  of  Joseph :  and  produced  a  sudden,  and,  as 
it  should  seem,  an  undesigned  premature  discovery  of 
himself  to  his  astonished  family.  Then,  that  is,  upon 
this  circumstance  being  mentioned,  Joseph  could  not 
refrain  himself;  and,  after  a  little  preparation,  Joseph 
said  unto  his  brethren,  "  I  am  Joseph." 

The  great  secret  being  now  disclosed;  what  was  the 
conversation,  which  immediately  followed?  The  next 
word  from  Joseph's  mouth  was,  "  doth  my  father  yet 
live?"  and  his  brethren  could  not  answer  him;  sur- 
prise had  overcome  their  faculty  of  utterance.  After 
comforting,  however,  and  encouraging  his  brethren, 
who  seemed  to  sink  under  the  intelligence,  Joseph 
proceeds,  "  Haste  ye,  and  go  up  to  my  father,  and 
say  unto  him,  thus  saith  thy  son  Joseph,  God  hath 

Q 


122  SERMON  IX. 

made  me  lord  of  all  Egypt :  come  down  unto  me,  tarry 
not  and  thou  shalt  dwell  in  the  land  of  Goshen,  and 
thou  shalt  be  near  unto  me,  and  there  will  I  nourish 
thee,  (for  yet  there  are  five  years  of  famine,)  lest  thou, 
and  thy  household,  and  all  that  thou  hast  come  to 
poverty.  And  ye  shall  tell  my  father  of  all  my  glory 
in  Eygpt,  and  of  all  that  ye  have  seen :  and  ye  shall 
haste,  and  bringdown  my  flithcr  hither." 

It  is  well  known,  that  Jacob  yielded  to  this  invitation, 
and  passed  over  with  his  family  into  Egypt. 

The  next  thing  to  be  attended  to,  is  the  reception, 
^vhich  he  then  met  with,  from  his  recovered  son.  "  And 
Joseph  made  ready  his  chariot,  and  went  up  to  meet 
Israel  his  father,  to  Goshen;  and  presented  himself 
unto  him,  and  he  fell  on  his  neck,  and  wept  on  his 
neck  a  good  while.  And  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,  Now 
let  me  die,  since  I  have  seen  thy  face;  because  thou 
art  yet  alive."  Not  content  with  these  strong  expres- 
sions of  personal  duty  and  respect,  Joseph  now  availed 
himself  of  his  power  and  station  to  fix  his  father's 
family  in  the  enjoyment  of  those  comforts  and  advan- 
tages, which  the  land  of  Egypt  afforded  in  the  univer- 
sal dearth,  which  then  oppressed  that  region  of  the 
world.  For  this  purpose,  as  well  as  to  give  another 
public  token  to  his  fomily,  and  to  the  country,  of  the 
deep  reverence,  with  which  he  regarded  his  parent, 
he  introduced  the  aged  patriarch  to  Pharaoh  himself. 
"  And  Joseph  brought  in  Jacob  his  father,  and  set 
him  before  Pharaoh:   and  Jacob  blessed  Pharaoh." 


SERMON  IX.  123 

And  the  sovereign  of  Egypt  received  a  benediction 
from  this  venerable  stranger.  "  And  Joseph,  (the  ac- 
count proceeds,)  nourished  his  father,  and  his  brethren, 
and  all  his  father's  household,  with  bread,  according 
to  their  families." 

It  remains  to  be  seen,  how  Joseph  conducted  him- 
self towards  his  father,  on  the  two  occasions,  in  which 
alone  it  was  left  for  him  to  discharge  the  office,  and  tes- 
tify the  affection  of  a  son;  in  his  sickness,  and  upon  his 
death.  "And  it  came  to  pass  (we  read)  after  these  things, 
one  told  Joseph,  behold,  thy  father  is  sick :   and  he 
took  with  him  his  two  sons,  Manasseh  and  Ephraim." 
Joseph  delayed  not,  you  find,  to  leave  the  court  of 
Pharaoh,  the  cares  and  greatness  of  his  station  in  it,  in 
order  to  pay  the  last  visit  to  his  dying  parent;  and  to 
place  before  him  the  hopes  of  his  house  and  family,  in 
the  persons  of  his  two  sons.    "  And    Israel  beheld 
Joseph's  sons,  and  said,  who  are  these?  And  Joseph 
said  unto  his  father,   They  are  my  sons,  whom  God 
^lath  given  me  in  this  place.  And  he  said,  Bring  them, 
I  pray  thee,  unto  me,  and  I  will  bless  them.  (Now  the 
eyes  of  Israel  were  dim,  so  that  he  could  not  see.)  And 
he  brought  them  near  unto  him ;  and  he  kissed  them, 
and  embraced  them:  and  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,   I 
had  not  thought  to  see  thy  face :  and  lo !  God  hath 
showed  me  also  thy  seed.  And  Joseph  brought  them 
out  from  between  his  knees,  and  he  bowed  himself 
with  his   face  to  the  earth."   Nothing  can  well  be 
more  solemn  or  interesting,  than  this  interview;  more 
honourable  or  consoling  to  old  age;  or  more  cxpres- 


124<  SERMON  IX. 

sive  of  the  dignified  piety  of  the  best  of  sons,  and  the 
greatest  of  men. 

We  now  approach  the  last  scene  of  this  eventful 
history,  and  the  best  testimony,  which  it  was  possible 
for  Joseph  to  give,  of  the  love  and  reverence,  with 
which  he  had  never  ceased  to  treat  his  father,  and  that 
was  upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  and  the  honours 
which  he  paid  to  his  memory ;  honours,  vain  no  doubt 
to  the  dead,  but  so  far  as  they  are  significations  of 
gratitude  or  affection,  justly  deserving  of  commenda- 
tion and  esteem.  "  And  when  Jacob  had  made  an  end 
of  commanding  his  sons,  he  gathered  up  his  feet  into 
the  bed,  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,  and  was  gathered 
unto  his  people.  And  Joseph  fell  upon  his  father's 
face,  and  wept  upon  him,  and  kissed  him.  And  Joseph 
commanded  his  servants  the  physicians  to  embalm  his 
father;  and  the  physicians  embalmed  Israel.  And  the 
Egyptians  mourned  for  him  threescore  and  ten  days. 
And  Joseph  went  up  to  bury  his  father:  and  with  him 
went  up  all  the  servants  of  Pharaoh,  the  elders  of  his 
house*  and  all  the  elders  of  the  land  of  Egypt.  And  all 
the  house  of  Joseph,  and  his  brethren,  and  his  father's 
house:  and  there  went  up  with  him  both  chariots  and 
horsemen:  and  it  was  a  very  great  company.  And 
they  came  to  the  threshing  floor  of  Atad,  which  is 
beyond  Jordan ;  and  there  they  mourned  with  a  great 
and  a  very  sore  lamentation :  and  he  made  a  mourning 
for  his  father  seven  days." 

Thus  died,  and  thus  was  honoured  in  his  death,  the 
preserver  of  the  Jewish  nation,  who,  amidst  many 


SERMON  IX.  X25 

mercies,  and  many  visitations,  sudden  and  surprising 
vicissitudes  of  afflictions  and  joy,  found  it  the  greatest 
blessing  of  his  varied  and  eventful  life,  that  he  had 
been  the  father  of  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  son. 

It  has  been  said,  and  as  I  believe,  truly,  that  there  is 
no  virtuous  quality  belonging  to  the  human  character, 
of  which  there  is  not  some  distinct  and  eminent  exam- 
ple to  be  found  in  the  Bible;  no  relation,  in  which  we 
can  be  placed,  no  duty  which  we  have  to  discharge, 
but  that  we  may  observe  a  pattern  for  it  in  the  sacred 
history.  Of  the  duty  of  children  to  parents,  of  a  son  to 
his  father,  maintained  under  great  singularities  and 
variations  of  fortune,  undiminished,  nay,  rather  in- 
creased by  absence,  by  distance,  by  unexampled  suc- 
cess, by  remote  and  foreign  connexions,  you  have 
seen,  in  this  most  interesting  and  conspicuous  of  all 
histories,  as  amiable  an  instance,  as  can  be  met  with  in 
the  records  of  the  world,  in  the  purest,  best  ages  of 
its  existence. 


SERMON  X. 


(PART  I.) 

TO  THINK  LESS  OF  OUR  VIRTUES,  A>fD  MORE  OF 
OUR  SINS. 


Psalm  li.  3. 

^''My  sin  is  ever  before  me.^^ 

1  HERE  is  a  propensity  in  the  human  mind,  very- 
general  and  very  natural,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  un- 
favourable in  a  high  degree  to  the  christian  character; 
which  is,  that,  when  we  look  back  upon  our  lives,  our 
recollection  dwells  too  much  upon  our  virtues;  our 
sins  are  not,  as  they  ought  to  be,  before  us ;  we  think 
too  much  of  our  good  qualities,  or  good  actions,  too 
little  of  our  crimes,  our  corruptions,  our  fallings  off 
and  declension  from  God's  laws,  our  defects  and 
weaknesses.  These  we  sink  and  overlook,  in  medi- 
tating upon  our  good  properties.  This,  I  allow,  is 
natural ;  because,  undoubtedly,  it  is  more  agreeable  to 
have  our  minds  occupied  with  the  cheering  retrospect 
of  virtuous  deeds,  than  with  the  bitter,  humiliating 
remembrance  of  sins  and  follies.  But,  because  it  is 
natural,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  good.  It  may  be 
the  bias  and  inclination  of  our  minds;  and  vet  neither 


SERMON  X.  127 

light,  nor  safe.  When  I  say  that  it  is  wrong,  I  mean, 
that  it  is  not  the  true  christian  disposition;  and  when  I 
say  that  it  is  dangerous,  I  luive  a  view  to  its  effects 
upon  our  salvation. 

I  say,  that  it  is  not  the  true  christian  disposition ; 
for,  first,  how  does  it  accord  with  what  Ave  read  in  the 
christian  scriptures,  whether  we  consider  the  precepts, 
which  are  found  there  applicable  to  the  subject,  or  the 
conduct  and  example  of  christian  characters? 

Now,  one  precept,  and  that  of  Christ  himself,  you 
find  to  be  this:  "  Ye,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  those 
things,  which  are  commanded  you,  say,  we  are  un- 
profitable servants ;  we  have  done  that  Avhich  was  our 
duty  to  do."  Luke,  xvii.  10.  It  is  evident,  that  this 
strong  admonition  was  intended,  by  our  Saviour,  to 
check  in  his  disciples  an  over-weaning  opinion  of  their 
own  merit.  It  is  a  very  remarkable  passage.  I  think 
none  throughout  the  New  Testament  more  so.  And 
the  intention,  with  which  the  words  were  spoken,  was 
evidently  to  check  and  repel  that  opinion  of  merit, 
which  is  sure  to  arise  from  the  habit  of  fixing  our  con- 
templations so  much  upon  our  good  qualities,  and  so 
little  upon  our  bad  ones.  Yet  this  habit  is  natural,  and 
was  never  prohibited  by  any  teacher,  except  by  our 
Saviour.  With  him  it  was  a  great  fault,  by  reason  of 
its  inconsistency  with  the  favourite  principle  of  his  re- 
ligion, humility.  I  call  humility  not  only  a  duty,  but 
a  principle.  Humble-mindedness  is  a  christian  prin- 
ciple, if  there  be  one;  above  all,  humble-mindedness 


128  SERMON  X. 

towards  God.  The  servants  to  whom  our  Lord's  ex- 
pression refers,  were  to  be  humble-minded,  we  may- 
presume,  towards  one  another;  but  towards  their 
Lord,  the  only  answer,  the  only  thought,  the  only  sen- 
timent was  to  be,  "  we  are  unprofitable  servants."  And 
who  were  they,  that  were  instructed  by  our  Lord,  to 
bear  constantly  this  reflection  about  with  them?  Were 
they  sinners,  distinctively  so  called?  were  they  grie- 
vous, or  notorious  sinners?  nay,  the  very  contrary; 
they  were  persons,  "  who  had  done  all  those  things, 
that  were  commanded  them!"  This  is  precisely  the 
description  which  our  Lord  gives  of  the  persons,  to 
whom  his  lesson  was  directed.  Therefore,  you  see,  that 
an  opinion  of  merit  is  discouraged,  even  in  those,  who 
had  the  best  pretensions  to  entertain  it;  if  any  pre- 
tensions were  good.  But  an  opinion  of  merit,  an  over- 
weaning  opinion  of  merit,  is  sure  to  grow  up  in  the 
heart,  whenever  we  accustom  ourselves  to  think  much 
of  our  virtues  and  little  of  our  vices.  It  is  generated, 
fostered,  and  cherished  by  this  train  of  meditation  we 
have  been  describing.  It  cannot  be  otherwise.  And  if 
we  would  repress  it;  if  we  would  correct  ourselves  in 
this  respect;  if  we  would  bring  ourselves  into  a  capa- 
city of  complying  with  our  Saviour's  rule,  we  must 
alter  our  turn  of  thinking;  we  must  reflect  more  upon 
our  sins,  and  less  upon  our  virtues.  Depend  upon  it, 
that  we  shall  view  our  characters  more  truly;  we  shall 
view  them  much  more  safely,  when  we  view  them  in 
their  defects  and  faults  and  infirmities,  than  when  we 
view  them  only,  or  principally,  on  the  side  of  their 
good  qualities;  even  when   these  good  qualities  are 


SERMON  X.  129 

i^al.  I  suppose,  and  I  have  all  along  supposed,  that  the 
good  parts  of  our  characters,  which,  as  I  contend,  too 
much  attract  our  attention,  are,  nevertheless,  real;  and 
I  suppose  this,  i:)ecause  our  Saviour's  parable  supposes 
the  same. 

Another  great  christian  rule  is,  "  work  out  your 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling."  (Philip,  ii. 
12.)  These  significant  words,  "  fear  and  trembIing,"do 
not  accord  with  the  state  of  a  mind,  which  is  all 
contentment,  satisfaction,  and  self-complacency;  and. 
which  is  brought  into  that  state  by  the  habit  of  viewing 
and  regarding  those  good  qualities,  which  a  person 
believes  to  belong  to  himself,  or  those  good  actions, 
which  he  remembers  to  have  performed.  The  precept 
much  better  accords  with  a  mind,  anxious,  fearful,  and 
apprehensive,  and  made  so  by  a  sense  of  sin.  But  a 
sense  of  sin  exists  not,  as  it  ought  to  do,  in  that  breast, 
which  is  in  the  habit  of  meditating  chiefly  upon  its 
virtues.  I  can  very  well  believe,  that  two  persons  of 
the  same  character  in  truth,  may,  nevertheless,  view 
themselves  in  very  different  lights,  according  as  one 
is  accustomed  to  look  chiefly  at  his  good  qualities,  the 
other  chiefly  at  his  transgressions  and  imperfections; 
and  I  say,  that  this  latter  is  the  disposition  for  working- 
out  our  salvation  agreeably  to  St.  Paul's  rule  and  me- 
thod, that  is, "  with  fear  and  trembling: "  the  other  is  not. 

But  further;  there  is  upon  this  subject  a  great  deal 
to  be  learnt  from  the  examples,  which  the  New  Testa- 
ment sets  before  us.  Precepts  arc  short,  necessarily 

R 


ISO  SERMON  X. 

must  be  so,  take  up  but  little  room,  and,  for  that  re^ 
son,  do  not  always  strike  with  the  force,  or  leave  the 
impression,  which  they  ought  to  do;  but  examples  of 
character,  when  the  question  is  concerning  character, 
and  what  is  the  proper  character,  have  more  weight 
and  body  in  the  consideration,  and  take  up  more  room 
in  our  minds,  than  precepts.  Now,  from  one  end  of 
the  New  Testament  to  the  other,  you  will  find  the 
evangelical  character  to  be  contrition.  You  hear  little 
of  virtue  or  righteousness;  but  you  hear  perpetually 
of  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  With  the  first  christian 
teachers,  "  repent,  repent"  was  the  burthen  of  their 
exhortations ;  the  almost  constant  sound  of  their  voice. 
Does  not  this  strain  of  preaching  show,  that  the  preach- 
ers wished  all,  who  heard  them,  to  think  much  more  of 
offences  than  of  merits  ?  Nay  further,  with  respect  to 
themselves,  whenever  this  contemplation  of  righteous- 
ness came  in  their  way,  it  came  in  their  way  only  to 
be  renounced,  as  natural,  perhaps,  and  also  grateful, 
to  human  feelings,  but  as  inconsistent  and  irreconcil- 
able with  the  christian  condition.  It  might  do  for  a 
heathen,  but  it  was  the  reverse  of  every  thing  that 
is  christian. 

The  turn  of  thought,  which  I  am  recommending, 
or,  rather,  which  I  find  it  necessary  to  insist  upon,  as 
an  essential  part  of  the  christian  character,  is  strongly 
seen  in  one  particular  passage  of  St.  Paul's  writings; 
namely,  in  the  third  chapter  to  the  Philippians.  "  If 
any  other  man  thinketh  whereof  he  might  trust  in  the 
•flesh,  I  more;  circumcised  the  eighth  day,  of  the 


SERMON  X.  13i 

stock  of  Israel,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  an  Hebrew 
of  the  Hebrews ;  as  touching  the  law,  a  Pharisee ; 
concerning  zeal,  persecuting  the  church ;  touching 
the  righteousness  which  is  in  the  law,  blameless." 
These  were  points,  which,  at  that  time  of  day,  were 
thought  to  be  grounds  of  confidence  and  exultation. 
But  this  train  of  thought  no  sooner  rises  in  his  mind, 
than  the  apostle  checks  it,  and  turns  from  it  to  an 
anxious  view  of  his  own  deficiencies.  "  If  by  any 
means  I  might  attain  unto  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead."  These  are  the  words  of  an  anxious  man. 
"Not,"  then  he  proceeds,  "not  as  though  I  had 
already  attained,  either  were  already  perfect;  but  I 
follow  after,  if  that  I  may  apprehend  that  for  which 
also  I  am  apprehended  of  Christ  Jesus.  Brethren,  I 
count  not  myself  to  have  apprehended;  but  thih  one 
thing  I  do,  forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind, 
and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before, 
I  press  towards  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  In  this  passage  you 
see,  that,  withdrawing  his  mind  from  all  notions  of 
perfection,  attainment,  accomplishment,  security,  he 
fixes  it  upon  his  deficiencies.  Then  he  tells  you,  that 
forgett'mg^  that  is,  expressly  putting  out  of  his  mind 
and  his  thought  the  progress  and  advance,  which  he 
had  already  made,  he  casts  his  eyes  and  attention  upon 
those  qualities,  in  which  he  was  short  and  deficient, 
upon  what  remained  for  him  yet  to  do;  and  this  I  take 
to  be  the  true  christian  way  of  proceeding.  "  Forget 
those  things  that  are  behind ;"  put  out  of  your  thoughts 


132  SERMON  X. 

the  attainments  and  progress  you  have  already  made, 
in  order  to  see  fully  your  defects  and  imperfections. 

In  another  passage,  found  in  a  chapter,  with  which 
all  are  acquainted,  the  15th  of  the. Corinthians,  our 
Apostle,  having  occasion  to  compare  his  situation 
with  that  of  the  other  Apostles,  is  led  to  say:  "I  la- 
boured more  abundantly  than  they  all."  St.  Paul's 
labours  in  the  gospel,  labours,  which  consumed  his 
whole  life,  were  surely  what  he  might  reflect  upon 
with  complacency  and  satisfaction.  If  such  reflections 
were  proper  in  any  case,  they  were  proper  in  his. 
Yet  observe  how  they  are  checked  and  qualified. 
The  moment  he  had  said,  "  I  laboured  more  abun- 
dantly  than  they  all,"  he  added,  as  it  were  correcting 
fcimself  for  the  expression,  "  yet  not  I,  but  the  grace 
of  God,  which  was  with  me."  He  magnifies  not  him- 
self, but  the  grace  of  God,  which  was  with  him.  In 
the  next  place  you  will  observe,  that,  though  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  labours,  painful,  indefatigable  labours, 
and  meritorious  labours,  if  ever  man's  were  so;  I  say, 
that  though  the  consciousness  of  these  was  present  to 
his  mind  at  the  time,  yet  it  did  not  hinder  him  from 
feeling,  with  the  deepest  abasement  and  self-degrada- 
tion, his  former  oflences  against  Christ,  though  they 
were  oflences,  Avhich  sprang  from  error.  "  I  am  tlie 
least  of  the  Apostles,  that  am  not  meet  to  be  called  an 
Apostle,  because  I  persecuted  the  Church  of  God; 
but,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  what  I  am."  The 
faults  of  his  life  were  uppermost  in  his  mind.  No 
m.ention,  no  recollection  of  his  services,  even  when 


SERMON  X.  laS 

he  did  happen  to  recollect  them,  shut  out,  even  for  a 
single  moment,  the  deep  memory  of  his  offences,  or 
covered  or  concealed  it  from  his  view. 

In  another  place,  the  same  Apostle,  looking  back 
upon  the  history  of  his  singular  and  eventful  life,  ex- 
hibits himself  to  his  converts,  as  how?  not  as  bringing 
forward  his  merit,  pleading  his  services,  or  claiming 
his  reward:  but  as  nothing  other,  nothing  more  than  a 
monument  and  example  of  God  Almighty's  mercy. 
Sinners  need  not  despair  of  mercy,  when  so  great  a 
sinner  as  himself  obtained  it.  Hear  his  own  words. 
"  For  this  cause  I  obtained  mercy,  that  in  me  first 
Jesus  Christ  might  show  forth  all  long  suffering,  for  a 
pattern  to  them  which  should  hereafter  believe  on  him 
to  life  everlasting."  1  Timothy,  i.  16.  What  could  be 
more  humble  or  self-depressing  than  this  ackR0\v 
ledgment?  yet  this  was  St.  Paul's. 

The  eleventh  chapter  of  the  second  epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  and  also  the  twelfth  ought  to  be  read  by 
you  on  this  occasion.  They  are  very  remarkable  chap- 
ters, and  very  much  to  our  present  purpose.  It  had  so 
happened,  that  some  hostile,  and,  as  it  should  seem. 
some  false  teachers,  had  acquired  a  considerable  influ 
ence  and  ascendency  in  the  church,  which  St.  Paul 
had  planted.  To  counteract  which  influence  it  became 
necessary  for  him  to  assert  his  character,  to  state  his 
pretensions  to  credit  and  authority,  amongst  them  at 
least,  and  in  comparison  with  those,  who  were  leading 
them  astray.  He  complies  with  the  occasion ;  and  he 


134  SERMON  X. 

does,  accordingly,  set  forth  and  enumerate  his  prcten- 
sions.  But  I  intreat  you  to  observe,  with  how  many 
apologies,  with  what  reluctance,  and  under  what  strong 
protestations,  he  does  it;  showing,  most  manifestly, 
how  contrary  it  was  to  his  habit,  his  judgment,  and  to 
the  inclination  of  his  mind  to  do  so.  His  expressions 
are  such  as  these:  "  Would  to  God  ye  could  bear  with 
me  a  little  in  my  folly;  and,  indeed,  bear  with  me." 
What  was  his  folly?  the  recital,  he  w^as  about  to  give 
of  his  services  and  pretensions.  Though  compelled,  by 
the  reason  you  have  heard,  to  give  it,  yet  he  calls  it 
folly  to  do  so.  He  is  interrupted,  as  he  proceeds,  by 
the  same  sentiment:  That  which  I  speak,  I  speak  it 
not  after  the  Lord,  but,  as  it  were,  foolishly  in  this  con- 
fidence of  boasting."  And  again,  referring  to  the  ne- 
cessity, which  dr-ew  from  him  this  sort  of  language: 
"I  am  become,"  says  he,  "  a  yoo/  in  glorying;  ye 
have  compelled  me." 

But  what  forms  perhaps  the  strongest  part  of  the 
example  is,  that  the  apostle  considers  this  tendency  to 
boast  and  glory,  though  it  was  in  his  gifts,  rather  than 
his  services,  as  one  of  his  dangers,  one  of  his  tempta- 
tions, one  of  the  propensities,  which  he  had  both  to 
guard  and  struggle  against,  and  lastly,  an  inclination, 
for  which  he  found  an  antidote  and  remedy  in  the  dis- 
pensation of  providence  towards  him.  Of  his  gifts,  he 
says,  considering  himself  as  nothing,  as  entirely  pas- 
sive in  the  hands  of  God,  "  of  such  a  one,"  of  a  person, 
to  \vhom  such  gifts  and  revelations  as  these  have  been 
imparted,  I  will  glory;  yet  of  myself  I  will  not  glory. 


SERMON  X.  ^  135 

'  but  in  mine  infirmities."  Then  he  goes  on;  "  lest  I 
should  be  exalted  above  measure  through  the  abun- 
dance of  the  revelations,  there  was  given  to  me  a  thorn 
in  the  flesh,  the  messenger  of  Satan  to  buftct  me,  lest 
I  should  be  exalted  above  measure." 

After  what  you  have  heard,  you  will  not  wonder, 
that  this  same  St.  Paul  should  pronounce  himself  to 
be  "  the  chief  of  sinners."  "  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  I  am  the  chief."  1  Ti- 
mothy, i.  15.  His  sins  were  upp«;fmost  in  his  thouglits. 
Other  thoughts  occasionally  visiited  his  mind:  but  the 
impression  which  these  had  made,  was  constant,  deep, 
fixed,  and  indelible. 

If,  therefore,  you  would  imitate  St.  Paul  in  his  turn 
and  Lrain  of  religious  ihoughL;  if  you  would  adopt  his 
disposition,  his  frame,  his  habit  of  mind,  in  this  impor- 
tant exercise,  you  must  meditate  more  upon  your  sins, 
and  less  upon  your  virtues. 

Again,  and  which  is  another  strong  scriptural  reason 
for  the  advice  I  am  giving,  the  habit  of  viewing  and 
contemplating  our  own  virtues  has  a  tendency  in  oppo- 
sition to  a  fundamental  duty  of  our  religion,  the  enter- 
taining of  a  due  and  grateful  sense  of  the  mercy  of 
God  in  the  redemption  of  the  world  by  Jesus  Christ. 
The  custom  of  thought,  which  we  dissuade,  is  sure  to 
generate  in  us  notions  of  merit;  and,  that  not  only  in 
comparison  with  other  men,  which  is  by  no  means 
good,  or  likely  to  produce  any  good  effect  upon  our 


136  SERMON  X. 

disposition,  but  also  in  relation  to  God  himself; 
whereas  the  whole  of  that  sentiment,  which  springs  up 
in  the  mind,  when  we  regard  our  characters  in  com- 
parison with  those  of  other  men,  if  tolerated  at  all, 
ought  to  sink  into  the  lowest  self-abasement,  when  we 
advance  our  thoughts  to  God,  and  the  relation,  in 
which  we  stand  to  him.  Then  is  all  boasting  either  in 
spirit,  or  by  ^v-ords  to  be  done  away.  The  highest  act 
of  faith  and  obedience,  recorded  in  scripture,  was 
Abraham's  consent  to  sacrifice  his  son,  when  he  be- 
lieved that  God  required  it.  It  was  the  severest  trial 
that  human  nature  could  be  put  upon;  and,  therefore, 
if  any  man,  who  ever  lived,  were  authorized  to  boast  of 
his  obedience,  it  was  Abraham  after  this  experiment. 
Yet  what  says  St.  Paul*?  "  If  Abraham  were  justified 
by  works,  he  hath  whereof  to  glory;  but  7iot  before 
Gody  No  mien's  pretensions  to  glory  were  greater, 
yet,  before  God,  they  were  nothing.  "  By  grace  ye  are 
saved  through  faith,  and  that  not  of  yourselves,  lest  any 
man  should  boast."  Eph.  ii.  8,  9.  Here  you  perceive 
distinctly,  that,  speaking  of  salvation,  with  reference  to 
its  cause,  it  is  by  grace ;  it  is  an  act  of  pure  fiivour ;  it  is 
not  of  yourselves;  it  is  the  gift  of  God;  it  is  not  of 
works.  And  that  this  representation  was  given,  lest  any 
man  should  boast,  that  is,  expressly  for  the  purpose  of 
beating  down  and  humbling  all  sentiments  of  merit  or 
desert  in  what  we  do,  lest  they  induce  us,  as  they  will 
induce  us,  to  think  less  gratefully,  or  less  piously  of 
God's  exceeding  love  and  kindness  towards  us.  There 
is  no  proportion  between  even  our  best  services  and 
*hat  reward,  which  God  hath  in  reserve  for  them  that 


SERMON  X.  137 

love  him.  Why  then  are  such  services  to  be  so  re- 
warded? It  is  the  grace  of  God ;  it  is  the  riches  ol"  liis 
grace;  in  other  words,  his  abounding  kindness  and 
favour;  it  is  his  love:  it  is  his  mercy.  In  this  manner 
the  subject  is  constantly  represented  in  scripture :  and 
it  is  an  article  of  the  christian  religion.  And  to  possess 
our  minds  with  a  sense,  an  adequate  sense,  so  far  as  it 
is  possible  to  be  so,  of  this  truth,  is  a  duty  of  the  reli- 
gion. But  to  be  niminating  and  meditating  upon  our 
virtues  is  not  the  way  to  acquire  that  sense.  Such 
meditations  breed  opinions  of  merit  and  desert ;  of 
presumption,  of  pride,  of  superciliousness,  of  self- 
complacency,  of  tempers  of  mind,  in  a  word,  not  only 
incompatible  \v'ith  humility,  but  also  incompatible  with 
that  sense  of  divine  love  and  mercy  towards  us,  which 
lies  at  the  root  of  all  true  religion,  is  the  soiuxe  and 
fountain  of  all  true  piety. 

You  have  probably  heard  of  the  term  self- righteous- 
ness: you  find  it  much  in  the  writings  and  discourses 
of  a  particular  class  of  christians ;  and  always  accom- 
panied with  strong  and  severe  expressions  of  censure 
and  reprobation.  If  the  term  mean  the  habit  of  con- 
templating our  virtues,  and  not  our  vices;  or  a  strong 
leaning  and  inclination  thereto,  I  agree  with  those 
christians  in  thinking,  that  it  is  a  disposition,  a  turn  of 
mind  to  be  strongly  resisted  and  restrained,  and  re- 
pressed. If  the  term  mean  any  other  way  of  viewing 
aur  own  character,  so  as  to  diminish  or  lower  our 
sense  of  God  Almighty's  goodness  and  mercy  towards 
us,  in  making  us  the  tender  of  a  heavenly  reward,  then 

S 


138  SERMON  X. 

also  I  agree  with  them  in  condemning  it,  both  as  erro- 
neous in  its  principle,  and  highly  dangerous  in  its 
elFects.  If  the  term  mean  something  more  than,  or 
different  from,  what  is  here  stated,  and  what  has  been 
enlarged  upon  in  this  discourse,  then  I  profess  myself 
not  to  understand  its  meaning. 


SERMON  XI. 

(PART  II.) 

TO  THINK  LESS  OF  OUR  VIRTUES,  AND  MORE  OF 
OUR  SINS. 

Psalm  li.  3. 

"  My  sin  is  ever  before  me.'''' 

1  O  think  well  is  the  way  to  act  rightly;  because 
thought  is  the  source  and  spring  of  action.  When  the 
course  and  habit  of  thinking  is  wrong,  the  root  is 
corrupt;  "  and  a  corrupt  tree  bringeth  not  forth  good 
fruit:"  do  what  you  will,  if  the  root  be  corrupt,  the 
fruit  will  be  corrupt  alsa  It  is  not  only  true,  that  dif- 
ferent actions  will  proceed  from  different  trains  of 
thought;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  the  same  actions,  the 
same  external  conduct,  may  be  very  different  in  the 
sight  of  God,  according  as  it  proceeds  from  a  right, 
or  a  wrong,  a  more  or  less  proper  principle  and  motive, 
a  more  or  less  proper  disposition ;  such  importance  is 
attached  to  the  disposition:  of  such  great  consequence 
is  it,  that  our  disposition  in  religious  matters  be  what 
it  should  be.    By  disposition  is  meant,  the  bent  or 


140  SERMON  XL 

tendency  ol"  our  inclinations;  and  by  disposition  is 
also  meant,  the  train  and  habit  of  our  thoughts,  two 
things,  which  are  always  nearly  connected.  It  is  the 
better  sense,  however,  in  which  I  use  the  word;  and 
the  i)articular  lesson,  which  I  am  inculcating,  for  the 
conduct  of  our  thoughts,  is  to  think  more  of  our  sins, 
and  less  of  our  virtues.  In  a  former  discourse  I  showed, 
that  there  are  strong  and  positive  scripture  precepts,  a 
due  regard  to  which  accords  with  the  state  of  mind  of 
him,  who  fixes  his  attention  upon  his  sins  and  defects, 
and  by  no  means  with  his  state  of  mind,  who  hath  fixed 
his  attention  chiefly  upon  his  virtues.  Secondly,  That 
scripture  examples,  that  of  St.  Paul  most  particularly, 
teach  us  to  renounce  the  thoughts  of  our  virtues,  and 
to  entertain  deeply  and  constantly  the  thoughts  of  our 
sins.  Thirdly,  That  the  habit,  here  reproved,  is  incon- 
sistent with  a  due  sense  of  the  love  of  God,  in  the 
redemption  of  the  world.  I  am  now  to  offer  such 
further  reasons,  as  appear  to  support  the  rule  I  have 
laid  do^\'n. 

And,  first,  there  is  no  occasion  whatever  to  meditate 
upon  our  virtues  and  good  qualities.  We  may  leave 
them  to  themselves.  We  need  not  fear,  that  they  will 
either  be  forgotten  or  undervalued.  "  God  is  not  un- 
righteous to  forget  your  works  and  labour  of  love." 
(Hebrews,  vi.  10.)  He  will  remember  them,  we  need 
not :  they  are  set  down  in  his  book ;  not  a  particle  will 
be  lost.  Blessed  are  they,  who  have  much  there,  but 
we  need  not  count  them  up  in  our  recollection:  for, 
Avhatever  our  virtues  are  or  were,   we  cannot  make 


SERMON  XI.  141 

them  better  by  thinking  of  them  afterwards.  We  ma}' 
make  tliem  better  in  future  by  thinking  of  their  im- 
perfections, and  by  endeavouring  to  encounter,  to  les- 
sen, or  remove  those  imperfections  liereafter;  but  then 
this  is  to  think,  not  upon  our  virtues,  but  upon  our 
imperfections.  Thinking  upon  our  virtues,  as  such, 
has  no  tendency  to  make  them  better,  be  they  what 
they  will.  But  it  is,  not  the  same  with  our  sins.  Think- 
ing upon  these  afterwards  may  make  a  very  great  al- 
teration in  them,  because  it  may  lead  to  an  effectual 
repentance.  As  to  the  act  itself,  what  is  past  can- 
not be  recalled;  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone;  the 
mischief  may  possibly  be  irrevocable  and  irreparable. 
But  as  to  the  sin,  it  is  different.  Deep,  true,  sincere 
penitence  may,  through  the  mercies  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  do  away  that.  And  much  penitence  may  be  the 
fruit  of  meditation  upon  our  sins;  cannot  possibly  come 
without  it.  Nay,  the  act  itself  may  be  altered.  It  is 
not  always,  that  an  injury  is  irreparable.  Wrong  indeed 
has  been  received  at  our  hands:  but  restitution  or 
compensation  may  be  in  our  power.  When  thev  are 
so,  they  are  the  surest  proofs  of  penitence.  No  peni- 
tence is  sincere  without  them,  if  they  be  practicable. 
This  benefit  to  those,  whom  we  have  injured,  and  an 
infinitely  greater  benefit  to  ourselves  than  to  them, 
may  be  the  effect  of  seeing  our  sins  in  their  true  light, 
which  that  man  never  does,  who  thinks  only,  or  chiefly, 
or  habitually,  upon  his  virtues.  Can  a  better  reason 
be  given  for  meditating  more  upon  our  sins,  and  less 
upon  our  virtues,  than  this;  that  one  train  of  tliought 


142  SERMON  XL 

may  be  profitable  to  salvation,  the  other  is  profitable 
for  nothing? 

It  is  an  exceedingly  good  observation,  that  we  may 
safely  leave  our  virtues  and  good  qualities  to  them- 
selves. And,  besides  the  use  we  have  made  of  it  in 
showing  the  superfluity,  as  well  as  the  danger  of  giving 
in  to  the  contemplation  of  our  virtues,  it  is  also  a 
quieting  and  consoling  reflection  for  a  different,  and  in 
some  degree,  an  opposite  description  of  character,  that 
is  to  say,  for  tender  and  timorous  consciences.  Such 
are  sometimes  troubled  with  doubts  and  scruples  about 
even  their  good  actions.  Virtue  was  too  easy  for  them, 
or  too  difficult;  too  easy  and  pleasant  to  have  any 
merit  in  it:  or  difficult  by  reason  of  ffeshly,  selfish,  or 
depraved  propensities,  still  existing  unsubdued,  still 
struggling  in  their  unregenerated  hearts.  These  are 
natural,  and,  as  I  have  sometimes  known  them,  very 
distressing  scruples.  I  think  that  observations  might 
be  offered  to  remove  the  ground  of  them  altogether; 
but  what  I  have  at  present  to  suggest  is,  that  the  very 
act  of  reflection,  which  leads  to  them,  is  unnecessary, 
provided  you  will  proceed  by  our  rule,  viz.  to  leave 
your  virtues,  such  as  they  are,  to  themselves;  and  to 
bend  the  whole  force  of  )'our  thought  towards  your 
sins,  towards  the  conquest  of  these. 

But  it  will  be  said,  are  we  not  to  taste  the  comforts 
of  religion'?  Are  we  not  to  be  permitted,  or  rather 
ought  we  not  to  be  encouraged  to  relish,  to  indulge, 


SERMON  XI.  145 

lo  enjoy  these  comforts?  And  can  this  be  done  with- 
out meditating  upon  our  good  actions? 

I  answer,  that  this  can  be  done  without  meditating 
upon  our  good  actions.  We  need  not  seek  the  com- 
forts of  religion  in  this  way.  Much  we  need  not  seek 
them  at  all;  they  will  visit  us  of  their  own  accord,  if 
we  be  serious  and  hearty  in  our  religion.  A  well  spent 
life  will  impart  its  support  to  the  spirits,  without  any 
endeavour,  on  our  part,  to  call  up  our  merits  to  our 
view,  or  even  allowing  the  idea  of  merit  to  take  pos- 
session of  our  minds.  There  will  in  this  respect,  al- 
ways be  as  much  difference,  as  there  ought  to  be,  be- 
tween the  righteous  man  and  the  sinner;  (or,  to  speak 
more  properly,  between  sinners  of  different  degrees,) 
without  taking  pains  to  draw  forth  in  our  recollection 
instances  of  our  virtue,  or  to  institute  a  comparison 
between  ourselves  and  others,  or  eertain  others  of  our 
acquaintance.  These  are  habits,  which  I  hold  to  be 
unchristian  and  wrong;  and  that  the  true  way  of  finding 
and  feeling  the  consolations  of  religion,  is  by  progres- 
sively conquering  our  sins.  Think  of  these ;  contend 
with  these:  and,  if  you  contend  with  sincerity  and  with 
effect,  which  is  the  proof  indeed  of  sincerity,  I  will  an- 
swer for  the  comforts  of  religion  being  your  portion. 
What  is  it  that  disturbs  our  religious  tranquillity? 
What  is  it  that  embitters  or  impairs  our  religious  com- 
fort, damps  and  checks  our  religious  hopes,  hinders 
us  from  relishing  and  entertaining  these  ideas,  from 
turning  to  them,  as  a  supply  of  consolation  under  all 
circumstances?  What  is, it  but  our  sins?  Depend  upon 


144  SERMON  XI. 

it,  that  it  is  sin,  and  nothing  else,  which  spoils  our 
religious  comfort.   Cleanse  your  hearts  from  sin,  and 
religion  will  enter  in,  with  all  her  train  of  hopes  and 
consolation.  For  proof  of  this,  we  may,  as  before,  refer 
to  the  examples  of  scripture  christians.  They  rejoiced 
in  the  Lord  continually.   "  The  joy  of  faith."  Phil.  i. 
25.   '*  Joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  Rom.  xiv.  17.  was  the 
word  in  their  mouths,  the  sentiment  of  their  hearts. 
They  spake  of  their  reHgion,  as  of  a  strong  consolation, 
as  of  the  "  refuge,  to  which  they  had  fled,  as  of  the 
hope,  of  w  hich  they  had  laid  hold,  of  an  anchor  of  the 
soul  sure  and  steadfast."  Heb.  vi.  18,  19.  The  pro- 
mise from  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was,  "  your  heart 
shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from  you." 
John  xvi.   22.  Was  this  promise  fulfilled  to  them? 
Read  Acts,  xiii.  52.  "  They  were  filled  with  joy  and 
the  Holy  Ghost."  "  The  Kingdom  of  God,"  saith  St. 
Paul,  "  is  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  Rom.  xiv.  17.  So 
that  St.  Paul,  you  hear,  takes  his  very  description  and 
definition  of  Christianity  from  the  joy  which  is  diffused 
over  the  heart;  and  St.  Paul,  I  am  very  confident,  de- 
scribed nothing  but  what  he  felt.  Yet  St.  Paul  did  not 
meditate  upon  his  virtues:  nay,  expressly  renounced 
that  sort  of  meditation.  His  meditations,  on  the  con- 
trary, were  fixed  upon  his  own  unworthiness,  and  upon 
the  exceeding  stupendous  mercy  of  God  towards  him, 
through  Jesus  Christ  his  Saviour:  at  least,  we  have  his 
own  authority  for  saying,  that,  in  his  christian  pro- 
gress, he  never  looked  back ;  he  forgot  that  which  was 
behind,  whatever  it  might  be,  which  he  had  already 
attained;  he  refused  to  remember  it,  he  put  it  out  of 


SERMON  iXI.  145 

liis  thoughts.  Yet,  upon  this  topic  of  religious  joy, 
hear  him  again;  "  we  joy  in  God  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ;  Rom.  v.  11.  and  once  more,  "  the  fruit 
of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace."  Gal.  v.  22.  These 
last  are  three  memorable  words,  and  they  describe,  not 
the  effects  of  ruminating  upon  a  man's  own  virtues, 
but  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit. 

But  it  is  not  in  one  Apostle,  in  whom  we  find  this 
temper  of  mind,  it  is  in  them  all.  Speaking  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  St.  Peter  thus  addresses  his  con- 
verts, "whom,  having  not  seen,  ye  love;  in  whom, 
though  now  ye  see  him  not,  yet  believing  ye  rejoice 
with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory."   1  Peter,  i.  8. 
This  joy  covered  even  their  persecutions  and  suffer- 
ings :  "  wherein  ye  greatly  rejoice,  though  now,  for  a 
season,  if  need  be,  ye  are  in  heaviness  through  mani- 
fold temptations,"  1  Peter,  i.  6.  meaning  persecutions. 
In  like  manner  St.  James  saith,  "  count  it  all  joy  when 
ye  fall  into  divers  temptations,"  that  is,  persecutions: 
And  whv?  "  knowing  this,  that  the  trying  of  your  faith 
worketh  patience."  James,  i.  4.  Let  no  one,  after  these 
quotations,  say,  that  it  is  necessary  to  fix  our  attention 
upon  the  virtues  of  our  character,  in  order  to  taste  the 
comforts  of  religion.   No  persons  enjoyed  these  com- 
forts in  so  great  perfection,  as  the  christians  whom  we 
read  of  in  scripture,  yet  no  persons  thought  so  little  of 
their  own  virtues.  What  they  continually  thought  upon 
was  the  abounding  love  of  Christ  towards  them,  "  in 
that,  whilst  they  were  yet  sinners,  he  died  for  them," 
and  the  tender  and  exceeding  mercies  of  God  in  the 

T 


146  SERMON  Xr, 

pardon  of  their  sins  through  Christ.  From  this  they 
drew  their  consolation;  but  the  ground  and  origin  of 
this  train  of  thought  was,  not  the  contemplation  of 
virtue,  but  the  conviction  of  sin. 

But  again,  the  custom  of  viewing  our  virtues  has  a 
strong  tendency  to  fill  us  with  fallacious  notions  of  our 
own  state  and  condition.  One,  almost  constant,  decep- 
tion is  this,  viz.  that  in  whatever  quality  we  have  pre- 
tensions, or  believe  that  we  have  pretensions,  to  excel, 
that  quality  we  place  at  the  head  of  all  other  virtues. 
If  we  be  charitable,  then  "  charity  covereth  a  multi- 
tude of  sins."  If  we  be  strictly  honest,  then  strict  ho- 
nesty is  no  less  than  the  bond,  which  keeps  society 
together;  and,  consequently,  is  that,  without  which 
other  virtues  would  have  no  worth,  or  rather  no  exist- 
ence. If  we  be  temperate  and  chaste,  then  self-govern- 
ment being  the  hardest  of  all  duties,  is  the  surest  test 
of  obedience.  Now  every  one  of  these  propositions  is 
true;  but  the  misfortune  is,  that  only  one  of  them  is 
thought  of  at  the  time,  and  that  the  one  which  favours 
our  own  particular  case  and  character.  The  compari- 
son of  different  virtues,  as  to  their  price  and  value, 
may  give  occasion  to  many  nice  questions;  and  some 
rules  might  be  laid  down  upon  the  subject;  but  I  con- 
tend, that  the  practice  itself  is  useless,  and  not  only 
useless,  but  delusive.  Let  us  leave,  as  I  have  already 
said,  our  virtues  to  themselves,  not  engaging  our  minds 
in  appreciating  either  their  intrinsic  or  comparative 
value ;  being  assured  that  they  will  be  weighed  in  un- 
erring scales.  Our  business  is  with  our  sins. 


SERMON  XI.  147 

Again:  The  habit  of  contemplating  our  spiritual  ac- 
quirements, our  religious,  or  moral  excellencies,  has, 
ver_v  usually,  and,  I  think,  almost  unavoidabh  ,  an  un- 
favourable efl'ect  upon  our  disposition  towards  other 
men.  A  man,  who  is  continually  computing  his  riches, 
almost  in  spite  of  himself,  grows  proud  of  his  wealth. 
A  man  who  accustoms  himself  to  read,  and  inquire, 
and  think  a  great  deal  about  his  family,  becomes  vain 
of  his  extraction.  He  can  hardly  help  becoming  so. 
A  man  who  has  his  titles  sounding  in  his  ears,  or  his 
state  much  before  his  eyes,  is  lilted  up  by  his  rank. 
These  are  effects,  which  every  one  observes;  and  no 
inconsiderable  degree  of  the  same  effect  springs  from 
the  habit  of  meditating  upon  our  virtues.  Now  humble- 
mindedness  is  a  christian  duty,  if  there  be  one.  It  is 
more  than  a  duty;  it  is  a  principle.  It  is  a  principle  of 
the  religion;  and  its  influence  is  exceedingly  great,  not 
only  upon  our  religious,  but  our  social  character. 
They,  who  are  truly  humble-minded,  have  no  quarrels, 
give  no  offence,  contend  with  no  one  in  wrath  and  bit- 
terness :  still  more  impossible  is  it  for  them  to  insult 
any  man,  under  any  circumstances.  But  the  way  to  be 
humble-minded  is  the  way  I  am  pointing  out,  viz.  to 
think  less  of  our  virtues,  and  more  of  our  sins.  In 
reading  the  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican, 
if  we  could  suppose  them  to  be  real  characters,  I  should 
say  of  them,  that  the  one  had  just  come  from  ruminat- 
ing upon  his  virtues,  the  other  from  meditating  upon 
his  sins.  And  mark  the  difference;  first,  in  their  beha- 
viour: next,  in  their  acceptance  with  God.  The  Pha- 
risee is  all  loftiness,  and  contemptuousness,  and  recital, 


148  SERMON  XI. 

and  comparison;  fullof  ideas  of  merit;  views  the  poor 
Publican,  although  withdrawn  to  a  distance  from  him, 
with  eyes  of  scorn.  The  Publican,  on  the  contrary, 
enters  not  into  competition  with  the  Pharisee,  or  with 
any  one.  So  far  from  looking  round,  he  durst  not  so 
much  as  lift  up  his  eyes;  but  casts  himself,  hardly  in- 
deed presumes  to  cast  himself,  not  upon  the  justice, 
but  wholly  and  solely  upon  the  mercies  of  his  Maker; 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  We  know  the 
judgment  which  our  Lord  himself  pronounced  upon 
the  case,  "  I  tell  you,  this  man  went  down  to  his  house 
justified  rather  than  the  other,"  Luke,  xviii.  14.  The 
more  therefore  we  are  like  the  Publican,  and  the  less 
we  are  like  the  Pharisee,  the  more  we  come  up  to  the 
genuine  temper  of  Christ's  religion. 

Think  then  less  of  your  virtues ;  more  of  your  sins. 
Do  I  hear  any  one  answer,  I  have  no  sins  to  think 
upon;  I  have  no  crimes,  which  lie  upon  my  con- 
science?  I  reply,  that  this  may  be  true  with  respect  to 
some,  nay,  with  respect  to  many  persons,  according  to 
the  idea  we  commonly  annex  to  the  words,  sins  and 
crimes;  meaning  thereby  acts  of  gross  and  external 
wickedness.  But  think  further:  enlarge  your  views. 
Is  your  obedience  to  the  law  of  God  what  it  ought  to 
be,  or  what  it  might  be?  The  first  commandment  of 
that  law  is,  "  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy 
strength."  Is  there,  upon  the  subject  of  this  com- 
mandment, no  matter  for  thought,  no  room  for  amend- 
ment? The  second  commandment  is,  "  thou  shalt  love 


SERMON  XI.  149 

thy  neighbour  as  thyself."  Is  all  with  us,  as  it  should 
be,  here?  Again,  there  is  a  spirituality  in  the  com- 
mands of  Christ's  religion,  which  will  cause  the  man, 
who  obeys  them  truly,  not  only  to  govern  his  actions, 
but  his  words;  not  only  his  words,  but  his  inclinations, 
and  his  dispositions,  his  internal  habits,  as  well  as  ex- 
ternal life.  "  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said  of  old 
time,  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery:  but  I  say  unto 
you  he  that  looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her;" 
that  is,  he  who  voluntarily  indulges,  and  entertains  in 
his  mind  an  unlawful  desire,  "  hath  committed  adultery 
with  her  already  in  his  heart,"  is,  by  the  very  enter- 
tainment of  such  ideas,  instead  of  striving  honestl)'^ 
and  resolutely  to  banish  them  from  his  mind,  or  to 
take  his  mind  off  from  them,  a  sinner  in  the  sight  of 
God.  Much  the  same  kind  of  exposition  belongs  to 
the  other  commandments;  not  only  is  murder  forbid- 
den, but  all  unreasonable,  intemperate  anger  and  pas- 
sion ;  not  only  stealing  but  all  hard  and  unfair  conduct, 
either  in  transacting  business  with  those,  who  are  upon 
a  level  with  us,  or,  where  it  is  more  to  be  feared,  to- 
wards those,  who  are  in  our  power.  And  do  not  these 
points  open  to  us  a  field  of  inquiry,  how  far  we  are 
concerned  in  them?  There  may  not  be  what,  strictly 
speaking,  can  be  called  an  act  or  deed,  which  is  scan- 
dalously bad;  yet  the  current  of  our  imaginations,  the 
bent  of  our  tempers,  the  stream  of  our  affections,  may 
all,  or  any  of  them,  be  wrong,  and  may  be  requiring, 
even  at  the  peril  of  our  salvation,  stronger  control,  a 
better  direction 


150  SERMON  XI. 

Again:  There  may  not  be  any  action,  which,  singly 
and  separately  taken,  amounts  to  what  would  he  rec- 
koned a  crime ;  yet  there  may  be  actions,  which  we  give 
in  to,  which  even  our  own  consciences  cannot  approve; 
and  these  may  be  so  frequent  with  us,  as  to  form  a  part 
of  the  course  and  fashion  of  our  lives. 

Again:  It  is  possible,  that  some  of  the  miscarriages 
in  conduct,  of  which  we  have  to  accuse  ourselves,  may 
be  imputable  to  inadvertency  or  surprise.  But  could 
these  miscarriages  happen  so  often  as  they  do,  if  we 
exercised  that  vigilance  in  our  christian  course,  which 
not  only  forms  a  part  of  the  christian  character,  but  is 
a  sure  effect  of  a  sincere  faith  in  religion,  and  a  corres- 
ponding solicitude  and  concern  about  it?  Lastly,  Un- 
profitableness itself  is  a  sin.  We  need  not  do  mischief 
in  order  to  commit  sin;  uselessness,  when  we  might  be 
useful,  is  enough  to  make  us  sinners  before  God.  The 
fig-tree  in  the  gospel  was  cut  down,  not  because  it  bore 
sour  fruit,  but  because  it  bore  none.  The  parable  of  the 
talents  (Mat.  xxv.  14.)  is  pointed  expressly  against  the 
simple  neglect  of  faculties  and  opportunities  of  doing 
good,  as  contradistinguished  from  the  perpetration  of 
positive  crimes.  Are  not  all  these  topics  fit  matters  of 
meditation,  in  the  review  of  our  lives?  Upon  the  whole, 
when  I  hear  a  person  say,  he  has  no  sins  to  think  upon, 
I  conclude,  that  he  has  not  thought  seriously  concern- 
ing religion  at  all. 

Let  our  sins,  then,  be  ever  before  us;  if  not  our 
crimes,  of  which  it  is  possible,  that  according  to  the 


SERMON  XI.  151 

common  acceptation  of  that  word,  we  may  not  have 
many  to  remember;  let  our  omissions,  deficiencies, 
failures,  our  irregularities  of  heart  and  affection,  our 
vices  of  temper  and  disposition,  our  course  and  habit 
of  giving  in  to  smaller  offences,  meaning,  as  I  do  mean, 
by  offences,  all  those  things,  which  our  consciences 
cannot  really  approve;  our  slips,  and  inadvertencies, 
and  surprises,  much  too  frequent  for  a  man  in  earnest 
about  salvation.  Let  these  things  occupy  our  attention; 
let  this  be  the  bent  and  direction  of  our  thoughts;  for 
they  are  the  thoughts,  which  will  bring  us  to  God 
evangelically;  because  they  are  the  thoughts,  which 
will  not  only  increase  our  vigilance,  but  which  must 
inspire  us  with  that  humility,  as  to  ourselves;  with  that 
deep  and  abiding,  and  operating  sense  of  God  Al- 
mighty's love  and  kindness,  and  mercy  towards  us,  in 
and  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour,  which  is  ever 
one  great  aim  and  end  of  the  gospel,  and  of  those  who 
preached  it,  to  inculcate  upon  all,  who  came  to  take 
hold  of  the  offer  of  grace. 


SERMON  XIJ. 

SALVATION  FOR  PENITENT  SINNERS. 

Luke,  vii.  47. 

Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  Her  sins,  which  are  many, 
are  forgiven  ;  for  she  loved  much. 

It  has  been  thought  an  extravagant  doctrine,  that 
the  greatest  sinners  were  sometimes  nearer  to  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  than  they,  whose  offences  were  less 
exorbitant,  and  less  conspicuous :  yet  I  apprehend  the 
doctrine  wants  only  to  be  rationally  explained,  to  show 
that  it  has  both  a  great  deal  of  truth,  and  a  great  deal 
of  use  in  it;  that  it  may  be  an  awakening  religious 
proposition  to  some,  whilst  it  cannot,  without  being 
wilfully  misconstrued,  delude  or  deceive  any. 

Of  all  conditions  in  the  world  the  most  to  be  des- 
paired of  is  the  condition  of  those,  who  are  altogether 
insensible  and  unconcerned  about  religion;  and  yet 
they  may  be,  in  the  mean  time,  tolerably  regular  in 
their  outward  behaviour;  there  may  be  nothing  in  it 
to  give  great  offence;  their  character  may  be  fair;  they 
may  pass  with  the  common  stream,  or  they  may  even 
be  well  spoken  of;  nevertheless,  I  say,  that,  whilst 


SERMON  XII.  153 

this  insensibility  remains  upon  their  minds,  their  con- 
dition is  more  to  be  despaired  of  than  that  of  any  other 
person.  The  rehgion  of  Christ  does  not  in  any  way 
apply  to  them:  they  do  not  belong  to  it;  for  are  they 
to  be  saved  by  performing  God's  will?  God  is  not  in 
their  thoughts;  his  will  is  not  before  their  eyes.  They 
may  do  good  things;  but  it  is  not  from  a  principle  of 
obedience  to  God,  that  they  do  them.  There  may  be 
many  crimes,  which  they  are  not  guilty  of;  but  it  is 
not  out  of  regard  to  the  will  of  G  >d,  that  they  do  not 
commit  them.  It  does  not,  therefore,  appear,  what 
just  hopes  they  can  entertain  of  heaven,  upon  the  score 
of  an  obedience,  which  they  not  only  do  not  perform, 
but  do  not  attempt  to  perform.  Then,  secondly,  if 
they  are  to  hope  in  Christ  for  a  forgiveness  of  their 
imperfections,  for  acceptance  through  htm  of  broken 
and  deficient  services,  the  truth  is,  they  have  recourse 
to  no  such  hope;  beside,  it  is  not  imperfection,  with 
which  they  are  charged,  but  a  total  absence  of  princi- 
ple. A  man,  who  never  strives  to  obey,  never  indeed 
bears  that  thought  about  him,  must  not  talk  of  the 
imperfection  of  his  obedience :  neither  the  word,  nor 
the  idea  pertains  to  him :  nor  can  he  speak  of  broken 
and  deficient  services,  who,  in  no  true  sense  of  the 
term,  hath  ever  served  God  at  all.  I  own,  therefore,  I 
do  not  perceive  what  rational  hopes  religion  can  hold 
out  to  insensibility  and  unconcernedness,  to  those, 
who  neither  obey  its  rules,  nor  seek  its  aid;  neither 
follow  after  its  rewards,  nor  sue,  I  mean  in  spirit  and 
sincerity  sue,  for  its  pardon.  But  how,  it  will  be  ask- 
ed, can  a  man  be  of  regular  and  reputable  morals, 

U 


154  SERMON  XII. 

with  this  religious  insensibility:  in  other  words,  with 
the  want  of  vital  religion  in  his  heart?  I  answer,  that 
it  can  be.  A  general  regard  to  character,  knowing 
that  it  is  an  advantageous  thing  to  possess  a  good  cha- 
racter; or  a  regard  generated  by  natural  and  early 
habit:  a  disposition  to  follow  the  usages  of  life,  which 
are  practised  around  us,  and  which  constitute  decen- 
cy: calm  passions,  easy  circumstances,  orderly  com- 
panions, may,  in  a  multitude  of  instances,  keep  men 
within  rules  and  bounds,  without  the  operation  of  any 
religious  principle  whatever. 

There  is  likewise  another  cause,  which  has  a  ten- 
dency to  shut  out  religion  from  the  mind,  and  yet  hath 
at  the  same  time  a  tendency  to  make  men  orderly  and 
decent  in  their  conduct:  and  that  cause  is  business. 
A  close  attention  to  business  is  very  apt  to  exclude 
all  other  attentions ;  especially  those  of  a  spiritual  na- 
ture, which  appear  to  men  of  business  shadowy  and 
unsubstantial,  and  to  want  that  present  reality  and 
advantage,  which  they  have  been  accustomed  to  look 
for,  and  to  find  in  their  temporal  concerns :  and  yet  it 
is  undoubtedly  true,  that  attention  to  business  fre- 
quently and  naturally  produces  regular  manners. 
Here,  therefore,  is  a  case,  in  which  decency  of  beha- 
viour shall  subsist  along  with  religious  insensibility, 
forasmuch  as  one  cause  produces  both;  an  intent  ap- 
plication to  business. 

Decency,  order,  regularity,  industry,  application  to 
our  calling  are  all  good  things ;  but  then  they  are  ac- 


SERMON  XII.  155 

companied  with  this  great  danger,  viz.  that  they  may 
subsist  without  any  religious  influence  whatever;  and 
that,  when  they  do  so,  their  tendency  is  to  settle  and 
confirm  men  in  religious  insensibility.  For  finding 
things  go  on  very  smoothly,  finding  themselves  re- 
ceived and  respected  without  any  religious  principle, 
they  are  kept  asleep,  as  to  their  spiritual  concerns,  by 
the  very  quietness  and  prosperity  of  things  around 
them.  "  There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a 
man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death."  It 
is  possible  to  slumber  in  a  flmcied  security,  or  rather 
in  an  unconsciousness  of  danger,  a  blindness  to  our 
true  situation,  a  thoughtlessness  or  stupefaction  con- 
cerning it,  even  at  the  time  when  we  are  in  the  ut- 
most peril  of  salvation;  when  we  are  descending  fast 
towards  a  state  of  perdition.  It  is  not  the  judgment 
of  an  erroneous  conscience:  that  is  not  the  case  I 
mean.  It  is  rather  a  want  of  conscience,  or  a  con- 
science, which  is  never  exerted;  in  a  word,  it  is  an 
indifference  and  insensibility  concerning  religion,  even 
in  the  midst  of  seeming  and  external  decency  of 
behaviour,  and  soothed  and  lulled  by  this  very  cir- 
cumstance. Now  it  is  not  only  within  the  compass  of 
possibility,  but  it  frequently,  nay,  I  hope,  it  very 
frequently  comes  to  pass,  that  open,  confessed,  ac- 
knowledged sins  sting  the  sinner's  conscience:  that 
the  upbraidings  of  mankind,  the  cry,  the  clamour,  the 
indignation,  which  his  wickedness  has  excited,  may  at 
length  come  home  to  his  own  soul;  may  compel  him 
to  reflect,,  may  bring  him,  though  by  force  and  vio- 
lence, to  a  sense  of  his  guilt,  and  a  knowledge  of  his 


156  SERMON  XII. 

situation.  Now  I  say,  that  this  sense  of  sin,  by  what- 
ever cause  it  be  produced,  is  better  than  reHgious  in- 
sensibiHty.  The  sinner's  penitence  is  more  to  be  trusted 
to,  than  the  seemingly  righteous  man's  security.  The 
one  is  roused;  is  roused  from  the  deep  forgetfulness 
of  rehgion,  in  which  he  had  hitherto  lived.  Good  fruit, 
even  fruit  unto  life  everlasting,  may  spring  from  the 
motion,  which  is  stirred  in  his  heart.  The  other  re- 
mains, as  to  religion,  in  a  state  of  torpor.  The  thing 
wanted  as  the  quickening  principle,  as  the  seed  and 
germ  of  religion  in  the  heart,  is  compunction,  con- 
vincement  of  sin,  of  danger,  of  the  necessity  of  flying 
to  the  Redeemer,  and  to  his  religion  in  good  earnest. 
"  They  were  pricked  in  their  heart,  and  said  to  Peter 
and  to  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  Men  and  brethren,  what 
shall  we  do?"  This  was  the  state  of  mind  of  those, 
who  first  heard  the  gospel:  and  this  is  the  state  of 
mind  still  to  be  brought  about,  before  the  gospel  be 
heard  with  effect;  and  sin  will  sometimes  do  it,  when 
outward  righteousness  will  not;  I  mean  by  outward 
righteousness,  external  decency  of  manners  without 
any  inward  principle  of  religion  whatever.  The  sinner 
may  return  and  fly  to  God,  even  because  the  world  is 
against  him.  I'hc  visil^ly  righteous  man  is  in  friendship 
with  the  world:  and  the  "  friendship  of  the  world  is  - 
enmity  with  God,"  whensoever,  as  I  have  before  ex- 
pressed it,  it  soothes  and  lulls  men  in  religious  insen- 
sibility. But  how,  it  will  be  said,  is  this?  Is  it  not  to 
encourage  sin?  Is  it  not  to  put  the  sinner  in  a  more 
hopeful  condition  than  the  righteous?  Is  it  not,  in  some 
measure,  giving  the  greatest  sinner  the  greatest  chance 


SERMON  XII.  157 

of  being,  saved?  This  may  be  objected:  and  the  ob- 
jection brings  me  to  support  the  assertion  in  the  be- 
ginning of  my  discourse,  that  the  doctrine  proposed, 
cannot,  without  being  wilfully  misconstrued,  deceive 
or  delude  any»  First,  you  ask,  is  not  this  to  encourage 
sin?  I  answerfct  is  to  encourage  the  sinner,  who  re- 
pents; and,  if  tne  sinner  repent,  why  should  he  not  be 
encouraged?  But  some,  you  say,  will  take  occasion, 
from  this  encouragement,  to  plunge  into  sin.  I  answer, 
that  then  they  wilfully  misapply  it :  for  if  they  enter 
upon  sin  intending  to  repent  afterwards,  I  take  upon 
me  to  tell  them,  that  no  true  repentance  can  come  of 
such  intention.  The  very  intention  is  a  fraud:  instead 
of  being  the  parent  of  true  repentance,  is  itself  to  be 
repented  of  bitterly.  Whether  such  a  man  ever  repent 
or  not  is  another  question,  but  no  sincere  repentance 
can  issue,  or  proceed  from  this  intention.  It  must  come 
altogether  from  another  quarter.  It  will  look  back, 
when  it  does  come,  upon  that  previous  intention  with 
hatred  and  horror,  as  upon  a  plan,  and  scheme,  and 
design  to  impose  upon  and  abuse  the  mercy  of  God. 
The  moment  a  plan  is  formed  of  sinning,  with  an  in- 
tention afterwards  to  repent,  at  that  moment  the-whole 
doctrine  of  grace,  of  repentance,  and  of  course  this 
part  of  it  amongst  the  rest,  is  \vilfully  misconstrued. 
The  grace  of  God  is  turned  into  lasciviousness.  At 
the  time  this  design  is  formed,  the  person,  forming 
it,  is  in  the  bond  of  iniquity,  as  St.  Peter  told  Simon 
he  was;  in  a  state  of  imminent  perdition,  and  this  de- 
sign will  not  help  him  out  of  it.  We  say,  that  repent- 
ance is  sometimes  more  likely  to  be  brought  about  in 


158  SERMON  XII. 

a  confessed,  nay,  in  a  notorious  and  convicted  sinner, 
than  in  a  seemingly  regular  life:  but  it  is  of  true  re- 
pentance that  we  speak,  and  no  true  repentance  can 
proceed  from  a  previous  intention  to  repent,  I  mean  an 
intention  previous  to  the  sin.  Therefore  no  advantage 
can  be  taken  of  this  doctrine  to  the  encouragement  of 
sin,  without  wilfully  misconstruing  it. 

But  then  you  say,  we  place  the  sinner  in  a  more 
hopeful  condition  than  the  righteous.  But  who,  let  us 
inquire,  are  the  righteous  we  speak  of?  not  they,  who 
are  endeavouring,  however  imperfectly,  to  perform  the 
will  of  God ;  not  they,  who  are  actuated  by  a  principle 
of  obedience  to  him ;  but  men,  who  are  orderly  and 
regular  in  their  visible  behaviour  without  any  internal 
religion.  To  the  eye  of  man  they  appear  righteous. 
But  if  they  do  good,  it  is  not  from  the  love  or  fear  of 
God,  or  out  of  regard  to  religion  that  they  do  it,  but 
from  other  considerations.  If  they  abstain  from  sin, 
they  abstain  from  it  out  of  different  motives  from  what 
religion  offers;  and  so  long  as  they  have  the  acquies- 
cence, and  approbation  of  the  world,  they  are  kept  in  a 
state  of  sleep;  in  a  state,  as  to  religion,  of  total  negli- 
gence and  unconcern.  Of  these  righteous  men  there 
are  many:  and,  when  we  compare  their  condition  with 
that  of  the  open  sinner,  it  is  to  rouse  them,  if  possible, 
to  a  sense  of  religion.  A  v^^ounded  conscience  is  better 
than  a  conscience  which  is  torpid.  When  conscience 
begins  to  do  its  office,  they  will  feel  things  changed 
within  them  mightily.  It  will  no  longer  be  their  con- 
cern to  keep  fair  with  the  world,  to  preserve  appear- 


SERMON  XII.  159 

ances,  to  maintain  a  character,  to  uphold  decency,  or- 
der, and  regularity  in  their  behaviour;  but  it  will  be 
their  concern  to  obey  God,  to  think  of  him,  to  love 
him,  to  fear  him:  nay,  to  love  him  with  all  their  heart, 
with  all  their  mind,  with  all  their  soul,  with  all  their 
strength;  that  is,  to  direct  their  cares  and  endeavours 
to  one  single  point,  his  will:  yet  their  visible  conduct 
may  not  be  much  altered;  but  their  internal  motives 
and  principle  will  be  altered  altogether. 

This  alteration  must  take  place  in  the  heart,  even 
of  the  seemingly  righteous.  It  may  take  place  also  in 
the  heart  of  the  sinner;  and,  we  say,  (and  this  is,  in 
truth,  the  whole  which  we  say,)  that  a  conscience 
pricked  by  sin  is  sometimes,  nay  oftentimes,  more 
susceptible  of  the  impressions  of  religion,  of  true  and 
deep  impressions,  than  a  mind  which  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  look  only  to  the  laws  and  customs  of  the 
world,  to  conform  itself  to  those  laws,  and  to  find  rest 
and  satisfaction  in  that  peace,  which  not  God,  but  the 
world  gives. 


SERMON  XIII. 

SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS  UPON  THE  CHILDREN 

Exodus,  xx.  5. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  bow  down  thyself  to  them^  nor  serve 
them;  for  I  the  Lord  thy  God  am  a  jealous  God,  visit' 
i?ig  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the 
third  and  fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate  me.'''' 

These  words  form  part  of  the  second  commandment. 
It  need  not  be  denied,  that  there  is  an  apparent  harsh- 
ness in  this  declaration,  with  which  the  minds  even  of 
good  and  pious  men  have  been  sometimes  sensibly  af- 
fected. To  visit  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  chil- 
dren, even  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation,  is  not,  at 
first  sight  at  least,  so  reconcilable  to  our  apprehen- 
sions of  justice  and  equity,  as  that  we  should  expect  to' 
find  it  in  a  solemn  publication  of  the  will  of  God. 

I  think,  however,  that  a  fair  and  candid  interpreta- 
tion of  the  words  before  us  will  remove  a  great  deal 
of  the  difficulty,  and  of  the  objection  which  lies  against 
them.  My  exposition  of  the  passage  is  contained  in 
these   four  articles: — First,   that    the    denunciation 


SERMON  XIII.  161 

and  sentence  relate  to  the  sin  of  idolatry  in  parti- 
cular, if  not  to  that  alone.  Secondly,  that  it  relates 
to  temporal,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  to  family 
prosperity  and  adversity.  Thirdly,  that  it  relates  to 
the  Jewish  economy,  in  that  particular  administra- 
tion of  a  visible  providence,  under  which  they  lived. 
Fourthly,  that  at  no  rate  does  it  affect,  or  was  ever 
meant  to  affect,  the  acceptance  or  salvation  of  indi- 
viduals in  a  future  life. 

First,  I  say,  that  the  denunciation  and  sentence  re- 
late to  the  sin  of  idolatry  in  particular,  if  not  to  that 
alone.  The  prohibition  of  the  commandment  is  pointed 
against  that  particular  offence,  and  no  other.  The 
first  and  second  commandment  may  be  considered  as 
one,  inasmuch  as  they  relate  to  one  subject,  or  nearly 
so:  for  many  ages,  and  by  many  churches,  they  were 
put  together,  and  considered  as  one  commandment. 
The  subject,  to  which  they  both  relate,  is  false  wor- 
ship, or  the  worship  of  false  gods.  This  is  the  single 
subject,  to  which  the  prohibition  of  both  command- 
ments relates :  the  single  class  of  sins  which  is  guarded 
against.  Although,  therefore,  the  expression  be,  "  the 
sins  of  the  fathers,"  without  specifying  in  that  clause 
what  sins,  yet  in  fair  construction,  and  indeed  in  com- 
mon construction,  we  may  well  suppose  it  to  be  that 
kind  and  class  of  sins,  for  the  restraint  of  which  the 
command  was  given,  and  against  which  its  force  was 
directed.  The  punishment,  threatened  by  any  law, 
must  naturally  be  applied  to  the  offence  particularly 
forbidden  by  that  law,  and  not  to  offences  in  general. 

X 


1(32  SERMON  Xin. 

.  One  reason,  why  you  may  not  probably  perceive 
the  full  ^veight  of  what  I  am  saying,  is,  that  we  do 
not  at  this  day  understand,  or  think  much  concerning 
the  sin  of  idolatry,  or  the  necessity,  or  importance  of 
God's  delivering  a  specific,  a  solemn,  a  terrifying 
sentence  against  it.  The  sin  itself  hath  in  a  manner 
ceased  from  among  us:  other  sins,  God  knows,  have 
come  in  its  place;  but  this,  Jn  a  great  measure,  is 
withdrawn  from  our  observation :  whereas  in  the  age 
of  the  world,  and  among  those  people,  when  and  to 
whom  the  ten  commandments  were  promulged,  false 
worship,  or  the  worship  of  false  gods,  was  the  sin, 
which  lay  at  the  root  and  foundation  of  every  other. 
The  worship  of  the  one  true  God,  in  opposition  to 
the  vain  and  false,  and  wicked  religions,  which  had 
then  obtained  amongst  mankind,  was  the  grand  point 
to  be  inculcated.  It  was  the  contest  then  carried  on: 
and  the  then  world,  as  well  as  future  ages,  were  deeply 
interested  in  it.  History  testifies,  experience  testifies, 
that  there  cannot  be  true  morality,  or  true  virtue, 
where  there  is  false  religion,  false  worship,  false  gods; 
for  which  reason  you  find,  that  this  great  article  (for 
such  it  then  was)  was  not  only  made  the  subject  of  a 
command,  but  placed  at  the  head  of  all  the  rest.  Nay 
more;  from  the  whole  strain  and  tenor  of  the  Old 
Testament,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe,  that  the 
maintaining  in  the  world  the  knowledge  and  worship 
of  the  one  true  God,  holy,  just,  and  good,  in  contra- 
diction to  the  idolatrous  worship  which  prevailed,  was 
the  great  and  principal  scheme  and  end  of  the  Jewish 
polity  and  most  singular  constitution.  As  the  Jewish 


SEHMOX  Xill.  163 

nation,  therefore,  was  to  be  the  depository  of,  and  the 
means  of  preserving  in  tlie  \^'orId,  the  knov.  iedgc  and 
worsliip  of  tlie  one  true  God,  when  it  was  lost  and 
darkened  in  other  countries,  it  became  of  the  last  im- 
portance to  the  execution  of  this  purpose,  that  this 
nation  should  be  warned  and  deterred,  by  every  moral 
means,  from  sliding  themselves  into  those  practices, 
those  errors,  and  that  crime,  against  which  it  was  the 
very  design  of  their  institution,  that  they  should  strive 
and  contend. 

The  form  of  expression  used  in  the  second  com- 
mandment, and  in  this  very  part  of  it,  much  favours 
the  interpretation  for  which  I  argue,  namely,  that  the 
sentence  or  threatening  was  aimed  against  the  sin  of 
idolatry  alone.  The  words  are,  "  For  I  the  Lord  thy 
God  am  a  Jealous  God,  and  visit  the  sins  of  the  fathers 
upon  the  children."  These  two  things,  of  being  jealous, 
and  of  visiting  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children, 
are  spoken  of  God  in  conjunction;  and  in  such  a  man- 
ner, as  to  show,  that  they  refer  to  one  subject.  Now  jea- 
lousy implies  a  rival.  God's  being  jealous  means,  that  he 
would  not  allow  any  other  god  to  share  with  himself 
in  the  worship  of  his  creatures:  that  is  wljat  is  imported 
in  the  word  jealous;  and,  therefore,  that  is  the  subject, 
to  which  the  threat  of  visiting  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon 
the  children  is  applied.  According  to  this  interpreta- 
tion, the  following  expressions  of  the  commandment, 
"  them  thatliate  me,  and  them  that  love  me,"  signify 
them  that  forsake  and  desert  my  worship  and  religion. 


164  SERMON  XIII. 

for  the  worship  and  rehgion  of  other  gods,  and  them 
who  adhere  firmly  and  faithfully  to  my  worship,  in 
opposition  to  every  other  worship. 

My  second  proposition  is,  that  the  threat  relates  to 
temporal,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  to  family  pros- 
perity and  adversity.  In  the  history  of  the  Jews,  most 
particularly  of  their  kings,  of  whom,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, we  read  and  know  the  most,  we  meet  with 
repeated  instances  of  this,  some  threat  being  both 
pronounced  and  executed  against  their  family  pros- 
perity; and  for  this  very  same  cause,  their  desertion  of 
the  true  God,  and  going  over,  after  the  example  of  the 
nations  around  them,  to  the  worship  of  false  gods. 
Amongst  various  other  instances,  one  is  very  memora- 
ble and  very  direct  to  our  present  argument:  and  that 
is  the  instance  of  Ahab,  who  of  all  the  idolatrous  kings 
of  Israel  was  the  worst.  The  punishment  threatened  and 
denounced  against  his  crime  was  this :  "  Behold  I  will 
bring  evil  upon  thee,  and  will  take  away  thy  posterity, 
and  will  make  thine  house  like  the  house  of  Jeroboam, 
the  son  of  Nebat,  and  like  the  house  of  Baasha,  the  son 
of  Ahijah,  for  the  provocation  wherewith  thou  hast 
provoked  me  to  anger,  and  made  Israel  to  sin."  The 
provocation,  you  will  observe,  was  the  introduction  of 
false  gods  into  his  kingdom ;  and  the  Prophet  here  not 
only  threatens  Ahab  with  the  ruin  and  destruction  of 
his  family,  as  the  punishment  of  his  sin,  but  points 
out  to  him  two  instances  of  great  families  having  been 
destroyed  for  the  very  same  reason.  You  afterwards 


SLRMON  XIll.  165 

read  the  lull  accomplishment  of  this  sentence  by  the 
hand  of  Jehu. N  ow,  I  consider  these  instances  as,  in 
fact,  the  execution  of  the  second  commandment,  and 
as  showing  what  sense  that  commandment  bore.  But 
if  it  were  so,  if  the  force  of  the  threat  was,  that  in  the 
distribution  and  assignment  of  temporal  prosperity  and 
adversity,  to  families  and  to  a  man's  race,  respect 
would  be  had  to  his  fidelity  to  God,  or  his  rebellion 
against  him  in  this  article  of  false  and  idolatrous  wor- 
ship, then  is  the  punishment,  as  to  the  nature  and  jus- 
tice of  it,  agreeable  to  what  we  see  in  the  constant  and 
ordinary  course  of  God's  providence.  The  wealth  and 
grandeur  of  families  are  commonly  owing  not  to  the 
present  generation,  but  to  the  industry,  wisdom,  or 
good  conduct  of  a  former  ancestor.  The  poverty  and 
depression  of  a  family  are  not  imputable  to  the  present 
representatives  of  the  family,  but  to  the  fault,  the  ex- 
travagance, or  mismanagement  of  those,  who  went  be- 
fore them;  of  which,  nevertheless,  they  feel  the  eftects. 
All  this  we  see  every  day;  and  we  see  it  without  sur- 
prise or  complaint.  What,  therefore,  accords  with  the 
state  of  things  under  the  ordinary  dispensations  of  Pro- 
vidence,  as  to  temporal  prosperity  and  adversity,  was^ 
by  a  special  Providence  and  by  a  particular  sentence, 
ordained  to  be  the  mode,  and  probably  a  most  effica- 
cious mode,  of  restraining  and  correcting  an  offence, 
from  which  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  deter 
the  Jewish  nation. 

My  third  proposition  is,  that  this  commandment  re- 


166  SERMON  XIII. 

lated  particularly  to  the  Jewish  economy.  In  the  28th 
chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  you  find  Moses,  with  prodi- 
gious solemnity,  pronouncing  the  blessings  and  curs- 
ings which  awaited  the  children  of  Israel  under  the 
dispensation,  to  which  they  were  called :  and  you  will 
observe,  that  these  blessings  consisted  altogether  of 
worldly  benefits,  and  these  curses  of  worldly  punish- 
ments. Moses  in  effect  declared,  that  with  respect  to 
this  peculiar  people,  when  they  came  into  their  own 
land,  there  should  be  amongst  them  such  a  signal  and 
extraordinary,  and  visible  interposition  of  Providence, 
as  to  shower  down  blessings  and  happiness,  and  pros- 
perity upon  those  who  adhered  faithfully  to  the  God  of 
their  fathers,  and  to  punish  with  exemplary  misfor- 
tunes, those,  who  disobeyed  and  deserted  him.  Such, 
Moses  told  them,  would  be  the  order  of  God's  govern- 
ment over  them.  This  dispensation  dealt  in  temporal 
rewards  and  punishments.  And  the  second  command- 
ment, which  made  the  temporal  prosperity  and  adver- 
sity of  families  depend,  in  many  instances,  upon  the 
religious  behaviour  of  the  ancestor  of  such  families, 
was  a  branch  and  consistent  part  of  that  dispensation. 

But  lastly  and  principally,  my  fourth  proposition  is, 
that  at  no  rate  does  it  affect,  or  was  ever  meant  to  affect, 
the  acceptance  or  salvation  of  individuals  in  a  future 
life.  My  proof  of  this  proposition  I  draw  from  the  18th 
chapter  of  Ezekiel.  It  should  seem  from  this  chapter, 
that  some  of  the  Jews,  at  that  time,  had  put  too  large 
an  interpretation  upon  the  second  commandment;  for 


SERMON  XIII.  167 

the  Prophet  puts  this  question  into  the  mouth  of  his 
countrymen;  he  supposes  them  to  be  thus,  as  it  were, 
expostulating  with  God.  Ye  say,  Why?  "  Doth  not 
the  son  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  father?"  that  is  the 
question  he  makes  them  ask.  Now  take  notice  of  the 
answer;  the  answer,  which  the  prophet  delivers  in  the 
name  of  God,  is  this,  "  When  the  son  hath  done  that 
which  is  lawful  and  right,  and  hath  kept  all  my  statutes 
and  hath  done  them,  he  shall  surely  live.  The  soul  that 
sinneth,  it  shall  die.  The  son  shall  not  bear  the  ini- 
quity of  the  father;  neither  shall  the  father  bear  the 
iniquity  of  the  son;  the  righteousness  of  the  righteous 
shall  be  upon  him,  and  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked 
shall  be  upon  him,^^  verse  19,  20. 

In  the  preceding  part  of  the  chapter,  the  Prophet 
has  dilated  a  good  deal,  and  very  expressly  indeed, 
upon  the  same  subject,  all  to  confirm  the  great  truth 
which  he  lays  down;  "behold  all  souls  are  mine,  as 
the  soul  of  the  father,  so  also  the  soul  of  the  son  is 
mine;  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die."  Now  apply 
this  to  the  second  commandment;  and  the  only  way  of 
reconciling  them  together  is  by  supposing,  that  the 
second  commandment  related  solely  to  temporal,  or 
rather  family  adversity  and  prosperity,  and  Ezekiel'a 
chapter  to  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  a  future 
state.  When  to  this  is  added  what  hath  been  observed, 
that  the  threat  in  the  second  commandment  belongs  to 
the  crime  forbidden  in  that  commandment,  namely, 
the  going  over  to  false  gods,  and  deserting  the  one 


168  SERMON  XIII. 

true  God ;  and  that  it  also  formed  a  part  or  branch  of 
the  Mosaic  system,  which  dealt  throughout  in  tempo- 
ral rewards  and  punishments,  at  that  time  dispensed 
by  a  particular  providence ;  when  these  considera- 
tions are  laid  together,  much  of  the  difficulty  and 
much  of  the  objection,  which  our  own  minds  may 
have  raised  against  this  commandment,  will,  I  hope, 
he  removed. 


SERMON  XI\  . 


HOW  VIRTUE  PRODUCES  BELIEF,  AND  VICE 
UNBELIEF. 

John,  vii.  17. 

•'  If  any  man  will  do  his  willy  he  shall  know  oftlit 
doctrine y  whether  it  be  of  Gody 

XT  does  not,  1  think,  at  first  sight  appear,  why  our  be- 
haviour should  influence  our  belief,  or  how  any  par- 
ticular course  of  action,  good  or  bad,  should  affect  our 
assent  to  any  particular  propositions,  which  are  offered 
to  us;  for  truth  or  probability  can  never  depend  upon 
our  conduct ;  the  credibility  or  incredibility  of  reli- 
gion is  the  same,^  whether  we  act  well  or  ill,  whether 
we  obey  its  laws  or  disobey  them.  Nor  is  it  very  ma- 
nifest, how  even  our  perception  of  evidence  or  credi- 
bility should  be  affected  by  our  virtues  or  vices;  be- 
cause conduct  is  immediately  voluntary,  belief  is  not: 
one  is  an  act  of  the  will,  under  the  power  of  motives; 
the  other  is  an  act  of  the  understanding,  upon  which 
motives  do  not,  primarily  at  least,  operate,  nor  ought 
to  operate  at  all.  Yet  our  Lord,  in  the  text,  aflirms 
this  to  be  the  case,  namely,  that  our  behaviour  does 
influence  our  belief,  and  to  have  been  the  case  from 

Y 


170  SERMON  XIV. 

the  beginning,  that  is,  even  during  his  own  ministn 
upon  earth.  '^  If  any  man  will  do  His  will,  he  shall 
know  of  the  doctrine,  whether  it  be  of  God."  It  be- 
comes, therefore,  a  subject  of  serious  and  religious 
inquiry,  how,  why,  and  to  what  extent  the  declaration 
of  the  text  may  be  maintained. 

Now  the  first  and  most  striking  observation  is,  that 
it  corresponds  w  ith  experience.  The  fact,  so  far  as  can 
be  observed,  is  as  the  text  represents  it  to  be.  I  speak 
of  the  e-eneral  course  of  human  conduct,  which  is  the 
thing  to  be  considered.  Good  men  are  generally  be- 
lievers: bad  men  are  generally  unbelievers.  This  is 
the  general  state  of  the  case :  not  without  exceptions ; 
for  on  the  one  hand,  there  may  be  men  of  regular  ex- 
ternal morals,  who  are  yet  unbelievers,  because,  though 
immorality  be  one  cause  of  unbelief,  it  is  not  the  only 
cause :  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  undoubtedl}' 
many,  who,  although  they  believe  and  tremble,  yet  go 
on  in  their  sins,  because  their  faith  doth  not  regulate 
their  practice.  But,  having  respect  to  the  ordinary 
course  and  state  of  human  conduct,  what  our  Savioiu' 
hath  declared  is  verified  by  experience.  He,  that  doetli 
the  will  of  God,  cometh  to  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  of  God,  namely,  a  messenger  from  God.  A  process, 
some  how  or  other,  takes  place  in  the  understanding, 
which  brings  the  mind  of  him,  who  acts  rightly  to  this 
conclusion.  A  conviction  is  formed,  and  every  day 
made  stronger  and  stronger.  No  man  ever  compre- 
hended the  value  of  christian  precepts,  but  by  con 
ducting  his  life  according  to  them.  When,  by  so  doing, 


SERMON  XIV.  171 

he  is  brought  to  know  their  excellency,  their  perfection, 
I  had  almost  said,  their  divinity,  he  is  necessarily  also 
brought  to  think  well  of  the  religion  itself.  HearSt.  Paul: 
— "  The  night  is  far  spent:  the  day  is  at  hand:  let  us, 
therefore,  cast  off  the  works  of  darkness,  and  Itt  us  put 
on  the  armour  of  light;  let  us  walk  honestly  as  in  the 
day,  not  in  rioting  and  drunkenness,  not  in  chambering 
and  wantonness,  not  in  strife  and  envying ;  but  put  ye 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and  make  not  provision  for 
the  flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof."  Rom.  xiii.  11.  It 
is  recorded  of  this  text,  that  it  -was  the  means  of  con- 
version of  a  very  eminent  father  of  the  church,  St. 
Austin;  for  which  reason  I  quote  it  as  an  instance  to 
my  present  purpose,  since  I  apprehend,  it  must  have 
wrought  with  him  in  the  manner  here  represented.  I 
have  no  doubt  but  that  others  have  been  affected  in 
like  manner  by  this  or  other  particular  portions  of 
scripture;  and  that  still  greater  numbers  have  been 
drawn  to  Christianity  by  the  general  impression,  which 
our  Lord's  discourses,  and  the  speeches  and  letters  of 
his  apostles,  have  left  upon  their  minds.  This  is  some- 
times called  the  internal  evidence  of  our  religion ;  and 
it  is  very  strong.  But,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  species  of 
cvidence_,  which  applies  itself  to  the  knowledge,  love, 
and  practice  of  virtue,  it  will  operate  most  powerfully 
where  it  finds  these  qualities,  or  even  these  tendencies 
and  dispositions  subsisting.  If  this  be  the  effect  of 
virtuous  conduct,  and,  in  some  proportion,  the  effect 
also  of  each  separate  act  of  virtue,  the  contrary  effect 
must  necessarily  follow  from  a  contrary  course  of  be- 
haviour. And  perhaps  it  may  assist  us  in  unfolding 


172  SERMON  XIV. 

the  subject,  to  take  up  the  inquiry  in  this  order;  be- 
cause, if  it  can  be  shown,  why,  and  in  what  manner, 
vice  tends  to  obstruct,  impair,  and,  at  length,  destroy 
our  faith,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  allow,  that  virtue 
must  facilitate,  support,  and  confirm  it:  that  at  least, 
it  will  deliver  us,  or  keep  us  free,  from  that  weight  of 
prejudice  and  resistance,  which  is  produced  in  the 
mind  by  vice,  and  which  acts  against  the  reception  of 
religious  truth. 

Now  the  case  appears  to  me  to  be  no  other  than 
this :  A  great  many  persons,  before  they  proceed  upon 
an  act  of  known  transgression,  do  expressly  state  to 
themselves  the  question,  whether  religion  be  true  or 
not;  and,  in  order  to  get  at  the  object  of  their  desire, 
(for  the  real  matter  to  be  determined  is,  whether  they 
shall  have  their  desire  gratified  or  not,)  in  order,  I  say, 
to  get  at  the  pleasure  in  some  cases ;  or  in  other  cases, 
the  point  of  interest,  upon  which  they  have  set  their 
hearts,  they  choose  to  decide,  and  they  do  in  fact 
decide  with  themselves,  that  these  things  are  not  so 
certain,  as  to  be  a  reason  for  them  to  give  up  the 
pleasure  Munich  lies  before  them,  or  the  advantage, 
which  is  now,  and  which  may  never  be  again,  in  their 
power  to  compass.  This  conclusion  does  actually  take 
place,  and,  at  various  times,  must  almost  necessarily 
take  place,  in  the  minds  of  men  of  bad  morals.  And 
now  remark  the  effect,  which  it  has  upon  their  thoughts 
afterwards.  When  they  come  at  another  future  time 
to  reflect  upon  religion,  they  reflect  upon  it,  as  upon 
what  they  had  before  adjudged  to  be  unfounded,  and 


SERMON  XIV.  173 

too  uncertain  to  be  acted  upon,  or  to  be  depended 
upon:  and  reflections,  accompanied  with  this  adverse 
and  unfavourable  impression,  naturally  lead  to  infi- 
delity. Herein,  therefore,  is  seen  the  fallacious  opera- 
tion of  sin;  first,  in  the  circumstances  under  which 
men  form  their  opinion  and  their  conclusions  concern- 
ing religion;  and,  secondly,  in  the  effect,  which  con- 
clusions, which  doubts  so  formed,  have  upon  their 
judgment  afterwards.  First,  what  is  the  situation  of 
mind  in  which  they  decide  concerning  religion?  and 
what  can  be  expected  from  such  a  situation?  S<;ine 
magnified  and  alluring  pleasure  has  stirred  their  de- 
sires and  passions.  It  cannot  be  enjoyed  without  sin. 
Here  is  religion  denouncing  and  forbidding  it  on  one 
side:  there  is  opportunity  drawing  and  pulling  on  the 
other.  With  this  drag  and  bias  upon  their  thoughts, 
they  pronounce  and  decide  concerning  the  most  im- 
portant of  all  subjects,  and  of  all  questions.  If  they 
should  determine  for  the  truth  and  reality  of  religion, 
they  must  sit  down  disappointed  of  a  gratification, 
upon  which  they  had  set  their  hearts,  and  of  using  an 
opportunity,  which  may  never  come  again.  Neverthe- 
less they  must  determine  one  way  or  other.  And  this 
process,  viz.  a  similar  deliberation  and  a  similar  con- 
clusion, is  renewed  and  repeated,  as  often  as  occasions 
of  sin  oflfer.  The  effect,  at  length,  is  a  settled  persuasion 
against  religion;  for  what  is  it,  in  persons  who  proceed 
in  this  manner,  w'hich  rests  and  dwells  upon  their  me- 
mories? What  is  it  which  gives  to  their  judgment  its 
turn  and  bias?  It  is  these  occasional  decisions  often 
repeated;  which  decisions  have  the  same  power  and 


174  SERMON  XIV. 

influence  over  the  man's  after-opinion,  as  if  they  had 
been  made  ever  so  impartially,  or  ever  so  correctly ; 
whereas,  in  fact,  they  are  made  under  circumstances, 
which  exclude,  almost,  the  possibility  of  their  being 
made  with  fairness,  and  with  sufiicient  inquiry.  Men 
decide  under  the  power  and  influence  of  sinful  temp- 
tation; but,  having  decided,  the  decision  is  afterwards 
remembered  by  them,  and  grows  into  a  settled  and 
habitual  opinion,  as  much  as  if  they  had  proceeded  in 
it  without  any  bias  or  prejudice  whatever. 

The  extent,  to  which  this  cause  acts,  that  is,  the 
numbers  who  are  included  in  its  influence,  will  be 
further  known  by  the  following  observation.  I  have 
said,  that  sinners  oftentimes  expressly  state  to  them- 
selves the  question,  whether  religion  be  true  or  not; 
and  that  they  state  to  themselves  this  question,  at  the 
time  when  they  are  about  to  enter  upon  some  act  of 
sin,  which  religion  condemns;  and  I  believe  the  case 
so  to  be.  I  believe  that  this  statement  is  often  ex- 
pressly made,  and  in  the  manner  which  I  have  repre- 
sented. But  there  is  also  a  tacit  rejection  of  religion, 
which  has  nearly  the  same  effect.  Whenever  a  man 
deliberately  ventures  upon  an  action,  which  he  knows 
that  religion  prohibits,  he  tacitly  rejects  religion. 
There  may  not  pass  in  his  thoughts  every  step  which 
we  have  described,  nor  may  he  come  expressly  to  the 
conclusion;  but  he  acts  upon  the  conclusion,  he  prac- 
tically adopts  it.  And  the  doing  so  will  alienate  his 
mind  from  religion,  as  surely,  almost,  as  if  he  had 
formally  argued  himself  into  an  opinionof  its  untruth. 


SERMON  XIV.  175 

The  effect  of  sin  is  necessarily,  and  highly,  and  in  all 
cases,  adverse  to  the  production  and  existence  of  re- 
ligious faith.  Ileal  difliculties  are  doubled  and  trebled, 
when  they  fall  in  with  vicious  propensities,  imagina- 
ry difficulties  are  readily  started.  Vice  is  wonderfully 
acute  in  discovering  reasons  on  its  own  side.  This 
may  be  said  of  all  kinds  of  vice;  but,  I  think,  it  more 
particularly  holds  good  of  Avhat  are  called  licentious 
vices,  that  is,  of  vices  of  debauchery;  for  sins  of  de- 
bauchery have  a  tendency,  which  other  species  of  sin 
have  not  so  directly,  to  unsettle  and  weaken  the  pow- 
ers of  the  understanding,  as  well  as,  in  a  greater  de- 
gree, I  tliink,  than  other  vices,  to  render  the  heart 
thoroughly  corrupt.  In  a  mind  so  wholly  depraved, 
the  impression  of  any  argument,  relating  to  a  moral 
or  religious  subject,  is  faint,  and  slight,  and  transitory. 
To  a  vitiated  palate  no  meat  has  its  right  taste;  with 
a  debauched  mind  no  reasoning  has  its  proper  influ- 
ence. 

But  secondly;  have  we  not  also,  from  scripture,  rea- 
son to  believe,  that  God's  holy  Spirit  will  be  assisting 
to  those  who  earnestly  pray  for  it,  and  who  sincerely 
prepare  themselves  for  its  reception;  and  that  it  will 
be  assisting  to  them  in  this  matter  of  faith  in  religion. — 
The  language  of  scripture  is,  that  God  gives  his  holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  it ;  and  moreover,  that  to  them 
who  use  and  improve  it,  as  they  ought,  it  is  given  in 
more  and  more  abundance.  "  He  that  hath,  to  him 
shall  be  given  more.  He  that  hath  not,  from  him  shall 
be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath."  (Mat.  xiii. 


176  SERMON  XIV. 

12.)  He,  who  is  studious  to  improve  his  measure  of 
grace,  shall  find  that  measure  increased  upon  him.  He, 
who  neglects,  or  stifles,  neglects  through  irreligion, 
carelessness  and  heedlessness,  buries  in  sensuality,  or 
stifles  by  the  opposition  of  sin  the  portion  of  grace 
and  assistance,  which  is  vouchsafed  to  him,  he,  the 
scripture  says,  will  find  that  portion  withdrawn  from 
him.  Now,  this  being  the  general  nature  and  economy 
of  God's  assisting  grace,  there  is  no  reason,  why  it 
should  not  extend  to  our  faith,  as  well  as  to  our  prac- 
tice; our  perceiving  the  truth,  as  well  as  our  obeying 
the  truth,  may  be  helped  and  succoured  by  it.  God's 
Spirit  can  have  access  to  our  understandings,  as  well 
as  our  affections.    He  can  render  the  mind  sensible  to 
the  impressions  of  evidence,  and  the  power  of  truth. 
If  creatures,  like  us,  might  take  upon  themselves  to 
judge  what  is  a  proper  object  of  divine  help,  it  should 
seem  to  be  a  serious,  devout,  humble,  apprehensive 
mind,  anxiously  desiring  to  learn  and  know  the  truth; 
and,  in  order  to  know  it,  keeping  the  heart  and  under- 
standing pure  and  prepared  for  that  purpose;  that  is  to 
say,  carefully  abstaining  from  the  indulgence  of  pas- 
sions, and  from  practices,  whicli  harden  and  indispose 
the  mind  against  religion.  I  say,  a  mind,  so  guarding 
and  qualifying  itself,  and  imploring  with  devout  earn- 
estness and  solicitude  the  aid  of  God's  holy  Spirit  in 
its  meduations  and  inquiries,  seems,  so  far  as  we  can 
presume  to  judge,  as  meet  an  object  of  divine  help  and 
favoui',  as  any  of  which  we  can  form  an  idea:  and  it 
is  not  for  us  to  narrow  the  promises  of  God  concern- 


SERMON  XIV.  177 

ing  his  assistine  J^race,  so  as,  without  authority,  to  ex- 
clude such  an  object  IVom  it. 

From  the  doctrine,  which  has  been  thus  concisely 
proposed,  various  important  rules  and  reflections  arise. 

First:  Let  not  men,  involved  in  sinful  courses,  won- 
der at  the  difficulties  which  they  meet  with  in  religion. 
It  is  an  effect  of  sin,  which  is  almost  sure  to  follow. 
Sin  never  fails,  both  to  magnify  real  difficulties,  and  to 
suggest  imaginary  ones.  It  rests  and  dwells  upon  ob- 
jections, because  they  help  the  sinner,  in  some  mea- 
sure, to  excuse  his  conduct  to  himself. — They  cause 
him  to  come  to  a  conclusion,  which  permits  the  grati- 
fication of  his  passions,  or  the  compassing  of  his  pur- 
pose. Deep  and  various  is  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  of 
licentious  sins  most  particularly;  for  they  cloud  the 
understanding;  they  disqualify  men  for  serious  medi- 
tation of  any  kind;  above  all  for  the  meditation  of 
religion. 

Secondly:  Let  them,  who  ask  for  more  light,  first 
take  care  to  act  up  to  the  light,  which  they  have. 
Scripture  and  experience  join  their  testimony  to  this 
point,  namely,  that  they,  who  faithfully  practise  what 
they  do  know,  and  live  agreeably  to  the  belief,  which 
they  have,  and  to  the  just  and  rational  consequences 
of  that  belief,  seldom  fail  to  proceed  further,  and  to 
acquire  more  and  more  confidence  in  the  truth  of  re- 
ligion; whereas,  if  they  live  in  opposition  to  the  de- 
gree of  belief,  Avhich  they  have,  be  it  what  it  may, 

Z 


178  SERMON  XIV. 

even  it  will  gradually  grow  weaker  and  weaker,  and, 
at  length,  die  away  in  the  soul. 

Thirdly:  Let  them,  who  are  anxious  to  arrive  at 
just  sentiments  of  religion,  keep  their  minds  in  a 
capable  state,  that  is,  free  from  the  bias  of  former  de- 
cisions made,  or  of  former  doubts  conceived,  at  a  time, 
when  the  power  and  influence  of  sinful  temptation  was 
upon  them,  suggested  in  fact,  lest  they  should  find 
themselves  obliged  to  give  up  some  gratification  upon 
which  they  had  set  their  hearts;  and  which  decisions, 
nevertheless,  and  doubts  have  the  same  operation  upon 
their  judgments,  as  if  they  had  been  the  result  of  the 
most  pure  and  impartial  reasoning.  It  is  not  peculiar 
to  religion:  it  is  true  of  all  subjects,  that  the  mind 
is  sure  almost  to  be  misled,  which  lies  under  a  load  of 
prejudice  contracted  from  circumstances,  in  which 
it  is  next  to  impossible  to  weigh  arguments  justly, 
or  to  see  clearly. 

Fourthly,  Let  them;  let  all;  especially  those,  who 
find  themselves  in  a  dissatisfied  state  of  mind,  fly  to 
prayer.  Let  them  pray  earnestly  and  incessantly  for 
God's  assisting  grace  and  influence;  assisting,  if  it  be 
his  good  pleasure,  as  well  our  minds  and  understand- 
ings in  searching  after  truth,  as  our  hearts  and  aflfec- 
tions  in  obeying  it.  I  say  again,  let  us  pray  unceas- 
ingly for  grace  and  help  from  the  Spirit  of  God. 
When  we  pray  for  any  worldly  object,  we  may  pray 
mistakenly.  We  may  be  ignorant  of  our  own  good; 
we  may  err  egregiously  concerning  it.  But  when  we 


SERMON  XIV.  179 

pray  for  spiritual  aid  and  grace,  we  are  sure,  that  we 
pra}  for  what  we  want;  for  what,  if  granted,  will  be 
the  greatest  of  all  blessings.  And  we  pray  with  hope, 
because  we  have  this  gracious  assurance  given  us  by 
the  Lord  himself  of  grace  and  mercy;  "  if  ye,  being 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children, 
how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him."  (Mat  vii.  11.) 


SERMON  XV. 


JOHN'S  MESSAGE  TO  JESUS. 

Matthew,  xi.  2,  3. 

''  Noxv  -when  John  had  heard  ifi  prison  the  works  of 
Christ,  he  sent  two  of  his  disciples,  and  said  unto  him. 
Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for  ano- 
ther?'' 

These  words  state  a  transaction,  to  say  the  least  of 
it,  of  a  singular  kind,  and  well  entitled  to  observation. 
Sometime  before  our  Lord's  appearance,  John  the 
Baptist  had  produced  himself  to  the  country,  as  a  mes- 
senger of  God,  and  as  a  public  preacher.  The  princi- 
pal thing  which  he  taught  was,  that  a  greater  and  more 
extraordinary  person  than  himself,  that  is  to  say,  no 
other  than  the  long-foretold  and  long-expected  Messi- 
ah, was  about  shortly  to  appear  in  the  world;  that  for 
the  appearance  of  this  person,  which  would  be  the  set- 
ting up  of  the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth,  all  men 
were  to  prepare  themselves  by  repentance  and  refor- 
mation. Thus  did  John  preach,  before  it  was  known 
or  declared,  and  before  he  (John  himself)  knew  or  de- 
clared who  this  extraordinary  person  was.  It  was,  as 


SERMON  XV.  181 

it  should  seem,  upon  our  Lord's  oflfering  himself  to 
John  to  be  baptized  of  him  in  Jordan,  that  John,  for 
the  first  time,  knew  and  published  him  to  be  that  per- 
son. This  testimony  and  record  John  afterwards  re- 
peated concerning  him  in  this  manner,  and  it  is  re- 
markable: "  The  next  day  John  seeth  Jesus  coming 
unto  him,  and  saith.  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which 
takcth  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  This  is  he  of  ^\hom 
I  said,  After  me  cometh  a  man,  which  is  preferred 
before  me,  for  he  was  before  me,  and  I  knew  him  not: 
but  that  he  should  be  made  manifest  to  Israel,  therefore 
am  1  come  baptizing  with  water.  And  John  bare  re- 
cord, saying,  I  saw  the  Spirit  descending  from  heaven. 
like  a  dove,  and  it  abode  upon  him:  and  I  knew  him 
not,  but  he  that  sent  me  to  baptize  w'lXh  water,  the 
same  said  unto  me,  Upon  whom  thou  shalt  see  the 
Spirit  descending  and  remaining  on  him,  the  same  is 
he,  which  baptizeth  with  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  I  saw, 
and  bare  record,  that  this  is  the  Son  of  God." 

It  came  to  pass,  that,  soon  after  our  Lord's  public 
appearance,  John  was  cast  into  prison,  and  there  re- 
mained, till,  by  a  barbarous  order  from  Herod,  in 
wicked  compliance  with  a  wicked  vow,  this  good  and 
courageous  servant  of  God  was  beheaded.  It  does  not 
seem  quite  certain,  whether  he  was  not  imprisoned 
twice.  In  prison,  however,  his  disciples,  as  was  natu- 
ral, came  to  him,  and  related  to  him  the  great  things, 
which  Jesus  had  lately  been  doing;  and  it  appears, 
from  the  accounts  of  the  different  evangelists,  and  by 
laying  these  accounts  together  in  order  of  time,  that 


182  SERMON   XV. 

Jesus,  u  little  before  this,  amongst  other  miracles,  had 
cured  the  centurion's  servant  without  coming  near 
him;  and  had  also  raised  the  young  man  at  Nain  to  life, 
when  they  were  carrying  him  out  to  his  funeral:  mira- 
cles, which,  it  may  be  supposed,  were  much  noised 
abroad  in  the  country.  What  then  did  John  the  Bap- 
tist do,  upon  receiving  this  intelligence?  He  stmt  to 
Jesus  two  of  his  disciples,  sa}  ing,  "  Art  thou  he  that 
should  come,  or  look  we  for  another?" 

It  will  appear  odd,  that  John  should  entertain  any 
doubt,  or  require  any  satisfaction  about  this  matter. 
He  who  had  himself  publicly  announced  Jesus  to  be 
the  Messiah  looked  for,  and  that  also  upon  the  most 
undeniable  grounds,  because  he  saw  the  Spirit  de- 
scending and  remainmg  upon  him;  the  token  which 
had  been  given  him,  whereby  this  person  was  to  be 
distinguished  l)y  him. 

This  was  a  difficulty,  which  interpreters  of  scrip- 
ture, in  very  early  times,  saw:  and  the  answer,  which 
they  gave  to  it,  I  believe  to  be  the  true  one ;  namely, 
that  John  sent  this  message,  not  from  any  doubt  which 
he  himself  entertained  of  the  matter,  but  in  order  that 
the  doubts,  which  his  disciples  had  conceived  about 
it,  might  receive  an  answer  and  satisfaction  at  the  foun- 
tain head ;  from  Jesus  himself,  who  was  best  able  to 
give  it. 

You  will,  therefore,  now  observe  what  this  answer 
-vas.  and  how,  and  under  what  circumstances,  it  was 


SERMON  XV,  183 

given.  If  you  turn  to  St.  Luke's  statement  of  the 
transaction,  chap.  vii.  verse  2()th,  yon  will  there  find 
it  expressly  asserted,  what  is  only  implied  and  tacidy 
referred  to  by  St.  Matthew:  (and  this  is  one  instance, 
amongst  many,  of  the  advantage  of  bringing  the  ac- 
counts of  the  diftlrent  evangelists  together,)  you  will 
find,  I  say,  that  it  so  happened,  I  ought  to  have  said, 
that  it  was  so  ordered  by  Providence,  that  at  the  time, 
the  precise  hour,  when  these  messengers  from  John 
arrived,  our  Lord  was  in  the  very  act  of  working 
miracles.  In  that  same  hour,  says  Luke,  he  cured 
many  of  infirmities  and  plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits, 
and  unto  many  that  Mere  blind  he  gave  sight :  so  that 
the  messengers  themselves  were  eye  witnesses  of  his 
powers  and  his  gifts,  and  of  his  mighty  works;  and  to 
this  evidence  he  refers  them ;  and  a  more  decisive  or 
dignified  answer  could  not  possibly  have  been  given. 
He  neither  says  he  was,  nor  he  was  not  the  person 
they  inquired  after,  but  bids  them  take  notice  and  tell 
John  of  what  they  saxv,  and  make  their  o\vn  conclu- 
sion from  it.  "  Go  your  way,  and  tell  John  what 
things  ye  have  seen  and  heard,  how  that  the  blind  see, 
the  lame  w^alk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear, 
the  dead  are  raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is 
preached."  It  does  not,  I  think,  appear,  nor  is  it  ne- 
cessary to  suppose,  that  all  these  species  of  miracles 
were  performed  then,  or  before  their  eyes.  It  is  speci- 
fically mentioned,  that  he  then  cured  many  of  plagues 
and  infirmities,  cast  out  evil  spirits,  and  restored  sight 
to  the  blind:  but  it  is  not  mentioned,  for  instance. 


184  SERMON  XV. 

that  he  then  raised  the  dead,  though  that  miracle  be 
referred  to  in  his  answer.  After  having  wrought,  whilst 
they  were  present,  many  and  various  species  of  deci- 
sive miracles,  he  was  well  entitled  to  demand  their 
credit  and  assent  to  others  upon  his  own  testimony 
and  assertion. 

Now  from  this  answer  of  our  Lord's,  we  are  entitled 
to  infer,  (and  this  I  think  is  the  useful  inference  to  be 
drawi!  from  it,)  that  the  faith  which  he  required,  the 
assent,  which  he  demanded,  was  a  rational  assent  and 
faith  founded  upon  proof  and  evidence.  His  exhor- 
tation was,  "  believe  me  for  the  very  works'  sake." 
He  did  not  bid  Philip,  upon  that  occasion,  or  the  dis- 
ciples of  John  upon  this,  believe  him,  because  he  was 
the  Son  of  God,  because  he  came  down  from  heaven, 
because  he  was  in  the  Father  and  the  Father  in  him, 
because  he  was  with  God  and  from  God,  because  the 
Father  had  given  unto  him  the  Spirit  without  measure, 
because  he  w  ,s  inspired  in  the  fullest  and  largest  sense 
of  the  word;  for  all  these  characters  and  pretensions, 
though  the  highest  that  could  belong  to  any  being 
whatsoever,  to  a  Prophet,  or  to  more  than  a  Prophet, 
were  nevertheless  to  be  ascertained  by  facts;  when  as- 
certained, they  were  grounds  of  the  most  absolute 
confidence  in  his  word,  of  the  most  implicit  and  un- 
limited reliance  upon  his  authority ;  but  they  were  to 
be  ascertained  by  facts.  To  facts,  therefore,  our  Lord 
appeals;  to  facts  he  refers  them,  and  to  the  demon- 
stration which  they  afforded  of  his  power  and  truth : 


SERMON  XV.  185 

for  shutting  their  eyes  against  faith,  or,  more  properl) 
speaking,  for  shutting  their  hearts  and  understandings 
against  the  proof  and  conckision,  which  facts  afforded, 
he  pronounces  them  liable  to  condemnation.  They 
were  to  believe  his  word,  because  of  his  works:  that 
was  exactly  what  he  required.  ''  The  works  which 
the  Father  hath  given  me  to  finish,  the  same  works 
that  I  do,  bear  witness  of  me,  that  the  Father  hath  sent 
me;  and  the  Father  himself,  who  hath  sent  me, 
beareth  witness  of  me."  John,  v.  36.  It  is  remarkable 
that  John  the  Baptist  wrought  no  miracle;  therefore 
the  authority  and  confirming  proof  of  /us  mission, 
rested  very  much  upon  the  evidences  which  were  ex- 
hibited, not  by  himself,  but  by  the  person  whose  ap- 
pearance he  professed  to  foretel;  and  undoubtedly  the 
miracles  of  our  Lord  did,  by  a  reflected  operation, 
establish  the  preaching  of  John.  For  if  a  person  in 
these  days  should  appear,  not  working  any  miracle 
himself,  but  declaring  that  another  and  greater  person 
was  soon  to  follow,  and  if  that  other  and  greater  person 
did  accordingly  soon  follow,  and  show  forth  mighty 
deeds,  the  authority  of  the  first  person's  mission 
would  be  ratified  by  the  second  person's  works.  They 
who  might  doubt,  nay  reasonably  doubt,  concerning 
the  first  person's  truth  and  pretensions  before^  would 
be  fully  satisfied  of  them  afterwards;  and  this  was  ex- 
actly the  turn,  which  some  rational  and  considerate 
Jews  gave  to  the  matter.  "  And  many  resorted  to 
him,  and  said,  John  did  no  miracle:  but  all  things  that 
John  spake  of  this  man  were  true;"  the  effect  of  this 

2  A 


186  SERMON  XV. 

observation  was,  what  it  ought  to  be,  "many  believed 
on  him  there."  John,  x.  41,  42. 

This  distinction  between  our  Lord  and  his  forerun- 
ner, in  one  working  miracles,  and  the  other  not,  fur- 
nishes an  account  for  two  things,  which  we  meet  with 
in  the  gospels :  one  is,  John's  declaring  that  when  the 
person,  of  whom  he  spoke,  should  appear,  his  own 
ministr^^  which  was  then  much  followed  and  attended, 
would  sink  in  importance  and  esteem,  "  He  must  in- 
crease, I  must  decrease — He,  that  cometh  after  me,  is 
preferred  before  me — He  that  was  with  thee  beyond 
Jordan,  to  whom  thou  bearest  witness;  behold,  the 
same  baptizeth  and  all  men  come  to  /t/'m."  The  other 
is  our  Lord's  own  reflection  upon  John's  testimony  in 
his  favour,  which  wqs  exactly  agreeable  to  the  truth 
of  the  case.  "  Ye  sent  unto  John,  and  he  bare  witness 
unto  the  truth:  but  I  receive  not  testimony  from  man. 
He  was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light;  and  ye  were 
willing  for  a  season  to  rejoice  in  his  light.  But /have 
greater  witness  than  that  of  John — the  works  which 
the  Father  hath  given  me  to  finish,  the  same  works  that 
/  do  bear  witness  of  me."  As  if  he  had  said.  My 
own  performance  of  miracles  is  a  higher  and  surer 
proof  of  my  mission,  than  any  testimony  which  could 
be  given  to  me  by  another,  who  did  not  perform  mi- 
racles, however  great,  or  praiseworthy,  or  excellent 
his  character  and  his  preaching  were  in  all  respects, 
or  however  much  his  followers  confided  in  him:  the 
one  was  the  testimony  of  men,  the  other  of  God.  "  I 
receive  not  testimony  of  man;"  the  proofs,  which  I 


SERMON  XV.  187 

myself  exhibit  before  your  eyes  of  divine  power,  su- 
persede human  tcstimon}-. 

Again:  Our  Lord  put  the  truth  of  his  pretensions, 
precisely  and  specifically,  upon  the  evidence  of  his 
miracles,  (John,  x.  37.)  "  If  I  do  not  the  works  of  my 
Father,  believe  me  not:  but  if  I  do,  though  ye  believe 
not  me,  believe  the  works."  What  fairer  appeal  could 
be  made?  Could  more  be  done  to  challenge  inquiry, 
or  place  the  question  upon  the  right  ground? 

Lastly:  In  the  xvth  chapter  and  24th  verse,  our 
Lord  fixes  the  guilt  of  the  unbelieving  Jews  upon  this 
article,  that  they  rejected  miraculous  proof,  which  ought 
to  have  convinced  them:  and  that,  if  they  had  not  had 
such  proof,  they  might  have  been  excusable,  or,  com- 
paratively speaking,  they  would  not  have  had  sin.  His 
words  are  very  memorable,  "  If  I  had  not  done  among 
them  the  works,  which  none  other  man  did,  they  had 
not  had  sin." 

It  appears,  therefore,  that,  as  well  in  the  answer  to 
John's  messengers,  as  in  the  other  passages  of  his  his- 
tory and  discourses  which  resemble  this,  our  Lord 
acted  a  part  the  most  consistent  with  his  professed 
character.  He  referred  the  messengers,  who  came  to 
him,  to  miraculous  works  performed  before  their  eyes, 
to  things  done  upon  the  spot;  to  the  testimony  of  their 
own  senses.  "  Show  John  those  things  which  ye  do 
see  and  hear."  Would,  could  any  other  than  a  prophet 
come  from  God  do  this?  In  like  manner,  was  it  for 


188  SERMON  XV. 

any  other  than  a  divine  messenger  to  bid  his  very  dis- 
ciples not  believe  in  him,  if  he  did  not  these  works; 
or  to  tell  unbelievers,  that  if  he  had  not  done  among 
them  works,  which  none  other  man  did,  their  unbelief 
might  have  been  excusable?  In  all  this  we  discern  con- 
viction, and  sincerity,  fairness,  truth  and  evidence. 


SERMON  XVI. 

ON  INSENSIBILITY  TO  OFFENCES 
Psalm  xix.  12,  13. 

'*  Who  can  tell  how  oft  he  offendeth  ?  O  cleanse  thou 
me  from  my  secret  faults.  Keep  thy  servant  also  from 
presumptuous  s?7is,  lest  they  get  the  dominion  over  me.^'' 

1  HESE  words  express  a  rational  and  affecting  prayer, 
according  to  the  sense  which  they  carry  with  them  at 
first  sight,  and  without  entering  into  any  interpretation 
of  them  whatsoever.  Who  is  there,  that  will  not  join 
heartily  in  this  prayer?  for  who  is  there,  that  has  not 
occasion  to  pray  against  his  sins?  We  are  laden  with 
the  weight  of  our  sins.  "  The  remembrance  of  them  is 
grievous  to  us;  the  burden  of  them  is  intolerable." 
But  beyond  this,  these  same  words,  when  they  come 
to  be  fully  understood,  have  a  still  stronger  meaning, 
and  still  more  applicable  to  the  state  and  condition  of 
our  souls;  which  I  will  endeavour  to  set  before  you. 

You  will  observe  the  expression,  "  my  secret  faults: 
O  cleanse  thou  me  from  my  secret  faults."  Now  the 


190  SERMON  XVI. 

question  is,  to  whom  are  these  faults  a  secret?  to  my- 
self, or  to  others?  whether  the  prayer  relates  to  faults, 
which  are  concealed  from  mankind,  and  are  in  that 
sense  secret;  or  to  faults,  which  are  concealed  from 
the  offender  himself,  and  are  therefore  secret,  in  the 
most  full  and  strict  sense  of  which  the  term  is  capable. 
Now,  I  say,  that  the  contents,  or  whole  passage  taken 
together,  oblige  us  to  understand  the  word  "  secref  in 
this  latter  sense :  for  observe  two  particulars.  The  first 
verse  of  the  text  runs  thus:  "  Who  can  tell  how  oft  he 
olFendeth?  O  cleanse  thou  me  from  my  secret  faults." 
Now,  to  give  a  connexion  to  the  two  parts  of  this 
verse,  it  is  necessary  to  suppose,  that  one  reason,  which 
it  was  so  difficult  for  any  man  to  know  how  oft  he 
offendeth  was,  that  many  of  his  faults  were  secret;  but 
in  what  way,  and  to  whom  secret?  to  himself  undoubt- 
edly: otherwise  the  secrecy  would  have  been  no  rea- 
son or  cause  of  that  difficulty.  The  merely  being  con- 
cealed from  others  would  be  nothing  to  the  present 
pui'pose:  because  the  most  concealed  sins,  in  that  sense, 
are  as  well  known  to  the  sinner  himself,  as  those  which 
are  detected  or  most  open;  and  therefore  such  con- 
cealment would  not  account  for  the  sinner's  difficulty 
in  understanding  the  state  of  his  soul  and  of  his  con- 
science. To  me  it  appears  very  plain,  that  the  train  of 
the  Psalmist's  thoughts  went  thus.  He  is  led  to  cast 
back  his  recollection  upon  the  sins  of  his  life :  he  finds 
himself,  as  many  of  us  must  do,  lost  and  bewildered 
in  their  number  and  frequency;  because,  beside  all 
other  reasons  of  confusion,  there  were  many,  which 
were  unnoticed,  unreckoned,  and  unobserved.  Against 


SERMON  XVI.  191 

this  class  of  sins,  \Ahich,  for  this  reason,  he  calls  his. 
secret  faults,  he  raises  up  his  voice  to  God  in  prayer. 
This  is  evidently,  as  I  think,  the  train  and  connexion 
of  thought;  and  this  requires,  that  the  secret  faults 
here  spoken  of  be  explained  of  such  faults,  as  were  se- 
cret to  the  person  himself.  It  makes  no  connexion,  it 
carries  with  it  no  consistent  meaning,  to  interpret  them 
of  those  faults,  which  were  concealed  from  others. 
This  is  one  argument  for  the  exposition  contended  for; 
another  is  the  following.  You  will  observe  in  the  text, 
that  two  kinds  of  sins  are  distinctly  spoken  of,  under 
the  name  of  secret  faults,  and  presumptuous  sins.  The 
words  are,  "  O  cleanse  thou  me  from  my  secret  faults; 
keep  thy  servant  also  from  presumptuous  sins."  Now, 
it  will  not  do  to  consider  these  secret  faults  as  merely 
concealed  faults,  because  they  are  not  necessarily  dis- 
tinguished from,  or  can  be  placed  in  opposition  to  pre- 
sumptuous sins.  The  Psalmist  is  here  addressing  God: 
he  is  deeply  affected  with  the  state  of  his  soul,  and  with 
his  sins,  considered  in  relation  to  God :  Now,  with  re- 
spect to  God,  there  may  be,  and  there  often  is,  as  much 
presumption,~as  much  daring,  in  committing  a  conceal- 
ed sin,  as  in  committing  a  sin,  which  is  open  to  the  world. 
The  circumstance  of  concealment,  or  detection,  makes 
no  difference  at  all  in  this  respect;  and  therefore  they 
could  not  properly  be  placed  in  different  classes:  nor 
would  it  be  natural  so  to  place  them:  but  offences,  which 
escape  the  sinner's  own  notice  at  the  time,  may  cer- 
tainly be  distinguished  from  those,  which  are  committed 
with  a  high  hand,  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  guilt, 
and  defiance  of  the  consequences;  and  that  is,  as  I 


192  SERMON  XVI. 

believe,  the  distinction  here  intended,  and  the  one  the 
Psalmist  called  his  secret  faults,  the  other  his  presump- 
tuous sins.  Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  I  conclude, 
that  the  secret  sins,  against  which  the  Psalmist  prayed, 
were  sins  secret  to  himself. 

But  here,  therefore,  comes  the  principal  question — 
How  there  cafi  be  any  sins  of  this  sort?  how  that  can  be 
a  sin,  which  is  neither  observed,  nor  known  to  be  so 
by  the  person  who  commits  it?  And  then  there  comes 
also  a  second  consideration,  which  is,  if  there  be  such, 
what  ought  to  be  done  with  respect  to  them  ?  Now,  as 
well  upon  the  authority  of  the  text,  as  upon  what  is 
the  real  case  with  human  nature,  when  that  case  is 
rightly  understood,  I  contend,  first,  that  there  are  ma- 
ny violations  of  God's  laws,  which  the  men  who  are 
guilty  of  them,  are  not  sensible  of  at  the  time:  and  yet, 
secondly,  such  as  that  their  want  of  being  sensible  of 
them,  does  not  excuse,  or  make  them  cease  to  be  sins. 
All  this,  in  truth,  is  no  other,  than  the  regular  effect  of 
sinful  habits.  Such  is  the  power  of  custom  over  our 
consciences,  that  there  is,  perhaps,  hardly  any  bad  ac- 
tion, which  a  man  is  capable  of  committing,  that  he 
may  not  commit  so  often,  as  to  become  unconscious 
of  its  guilt,  as  much  as  of  the  most  indifferent  thing 
which  he  does.  If  some  very  great  and  atrocious 
crimes  may  be  thought  exceptions  to  this  observation; 
and  that  no  habit  or  custom  can  by  any  possibility  re- 
concile them  to  the  human  conscience,  it  is  only  be-^ 
cause  they  are  such  as  cannot,  from  their  very  nature, 
be  repeated  so  often  by  the  same  person,  as  to  become 


SERMON  XVI.  193 

familiar  and  habitual:  if  they  could,  the  consequence 
would  be  the  same;  they  would  be  no  more  thought  of 
by  the  biinier  himself,  than  other  habitual  sins  arc.  But 
great  outrageous  crimes,  against  life,  for  instance,  and 
property,  and  public  safety,  may  be  laid  out  of  the 
question,  as  not  falling,  I  trust  and  believe,  within  the 
case  of  any  one,  who  hears  me,  and  as  in  no  case  what- 
ever capable  of  being  so  common,  as  to  be  fair  experi- 
ments of  the  strength  of  our  observation.  These  are 
not  what  compose  our  account  with  God.  A  man  may 
be  (as  indeed  most  men  are)  quite  free  from  the  crimes 
of  murder,  robbery,  and  the  like,  and  yet  h^  far  from 
the  kingdom  of  God.  I  fear  it  may  be  said  of  most  of 
us,  that  the  class  of  sins,  which  compose  our  account 
with  God,  are  habitual  sins;  habitual  omissions^  and 
habitual  commissmis.  Now  it  is  true  of  both  these,  that 
we  may  have  continued  in  them  so  long:  they  may 
have  become  so  familiar  to  us  by  repetition,  that  we 
think  nothing  at  all  of  them.  We  may  neglect  any 
duty,  till  we  forget  that  it  is  one:  we  may  neglect  our 
prayers;  we  may  neglect  our  devotion;  we  may  ne- 
glect every  duty  towards  God,  till  we  become  so  un- 
accustomed and  unused  to  them,  as  to  be  insensible 
that  we  are  incurring  any  omission,  or  contracting, 
from  that  omission,  any  guilt  which  can  hurt;  and  yet 
we  may  be,  in  truth,  all  the  while  "  treasuring  up 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath."  How  many  thbusands, 
for  instance,  by  omitting  to  attend  the  sacrament,  have 
come  not  to  know,  that  it  forms  any  part  of  christian 
obligation:  and  long  disuse  and  discontinuance  would 
have  the  same  effect  upon  any  other  duty,  however 

2B 


194  SERMON  XVI, 

plain  might  be  the  proof  of  it,  when  the  matter  earner 
to  be  considered. 


It  is  not  less  so  with  sins  of  commission.  Serious 
minds  are  shocked  with  observing  with  what  complete 
unconcern  and  indifference  many  forbidden  things  are 
practised.  The  persons,  who  are  guilty  of  them,  do 
not,  by  any  mark  or  symptom  whatever,  appear  to 
feel  the  smallest  rebuke  of  conscience,  or  to  have  the 
least  sense  of  either  guilt,  or  danger,  or  shame  in  what 
they  do;  and  it  not  only  appears  to  be  so,  but  it  is  so. 
They  are,  in  fact,  without  any  notice,  consciousness, 
or  compunction  upon  the  subject.  These  sins,  there- 
fore, if  they  be  such,  are  secret  sins  to  them.  But  are 
they  not  therelbre  sins?  That  becomes  the  next  great 
question.  We  must  allow,  because  fact  proves  it,  that 
habit  and  custom  can  destroy  the  sense  and  perception 
of  sin.  Does  the  act  then,  in  that  person,  cease  to  be 
any  longer  a  sin?  This  must  be  asserted  by  those, 
who  argue  that  nothing  can  be  a  sin,  but  what  is 
known  and  understood,  and  also  felt  and  perceived  to 
be  so,  by  the  sinner  himself  at  the  time,  and  who, 
consequently,  deny  that  there  are  any  secret  sins  in 
our  sense  of  that  expression.  Now  mark  the  conse- 
quences, which  would  follow  from  such  an  opinion. 
It  is  then  the  timorous  beginner  in  wicked  courses, 
who  alone  is  to  be  brought  to  account.  Can  such  a 
doctrine  be  maintained?  Sinners  aie  called  upon 
by  preachers  of  the  gospel,  and  over  and  over 
again  called  upon,  to  compare  themselves  with  them- 
selves, themselves  at  one  time  with  themselves  at 


SERMON  XVI.  195 

another;  their  former  selves,  when  they  lirst  entered 
upon  sinful  allowances,  and  their  present  selves,  since 
they  have  been  confirmed  in  them. — With  what  fear, 
and  scru])le,  and  reluctance,  what  sense  and  acknow- 
ledgment of  wrong,  what  apprehension  of  danger, 
against  what  remonstrance  of  reason,  and  with  what 
opposition  and  violence  to  their  religious  principle, 
they  first  gave  way  to  temptation !  With  what  ease, 
if  ease  it  may  be  called,  at  least,  with  what  hardness 
and  unconcern,  they  now  continue  in  practices,  which 
they  once  dreaded!  in  a  word,  what  a  change,  as  to 
the  particular  article  in  question  at  least,  has  taken 
place  in  their  moral  sentiments!  Yet,  notwithstanding 
this  change  in  them^  the  reason,  which  made  what 
they  are  doing  a  sin,  remains  the  same  that  it  was  at 
first:  at  first  they  saw  great  force  and  strength  in  that 
reason;  at  present  they  see  none;  but,  in  truth,  it  is 
all  the  while  the  same.  Unless,  therefore,  we  will  choose 
to  say,  that  a  man  has  only  to  harden  himself  in  his 
sins,  (which  thing  perseverance  will  always  do  for 
him,)  and  that  with  the  sense  he  takes  away  the  guilt 
of  them,  and  that  the  only  sinner  is  the  conscious, 
trembling,  afFrightened,  reluctant  sinner ;  that  the  con- 
firmed sinner  is  not  a  sinner  at  all;  unless  we  will  ad- 
vance this,  which  affronts  all  principles  of  justice  and 
sense,  we  must  confess,  that  secret  sins  are  both  pos- 
sible and  frequent  things ;  that  with  the  habitual  sinner, 
and  with  every  man,  in  so  far  as  he  is,  i  and  in  that 
article  in  which  lie  is,  an  habitual  sinner,  this  is  almost 
sure  to  be  the  case. 


196  SERMON  XVI. 

What  then  are  the  reflections  suitable  to  such  a 
Case?  First,  to  join  most  sincerely  with  the  Psalmist 
in  his  prayer  to  God.  "  O  cleanse  thou  me  from  my 
secret  faults."  Secondly,  to  see,  in  this  consideration, 
the  exceedingly  great  danger  of  evil  habits  of  all 
kinds.  It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  commit  sins  without 
knowing  it,  and  yet  to  have  those  sins  to  answer  for; 
that  is  dreadful;  and  yet  is  no  other  than  the  just  con- 
sequence and  cflfect  of  sinful  habits.  They  destroy  in 
us  the  perception  of  guilt;  that  experience  proves. 
They  do  not  destroy  the  guilt  itself:  that  no  man  can 
argue,  because  it  leads  to  injustice  and  absurdity. 

How  well  does  the  scripture  express  the  state  of  an 
habitual  sinner,  when  he  calls  him,  "  dead  in  trespas- 
ses and  sins!"  His  conscience  is  dead:  that,  which 
ought  to  be  the  living,  actuating,  governing  principle 
of  the  whole  man,  is  dead  within  him:  is  extinguished 
by  the  power  of  sin  reigning  in  his  heart.  He  is  inca- 
pable of  perceiving  his  sins,  whilst  he  commits 
them  with  greediness.  It  is  evident,  that  a  vast  altera- 
tion must  take  place  in  such  a  man,  before  he  be 
brought  into  the  way  of  salvation.  It  is  a  great  change 
from  innocence  to  guilt,  when  a  man  falls  from  a  life 
of  virtue  to  a  life  of  sin;  but  the  recovery  from  it  is 
much  greater ;  because  the  very  secrecy  of  our  sins  to 
ourselves,  the  unconsciousness  of  them,  which  prac- 
tice and  custom,  and  repetition  and  habit  have  produ- 
ced in  us,  is  an  almost  unsurmountable  hinderance  to 
an  effectual  reformation. 


SERMON  XVII. 

SERIOUSNESS  OF  DISPOSITION  NECESSARY 

Luke,  viii.  15. 

"But  that  on  the  good  ground  are  they,  who  in  an 
honest  and  good  Iieart,  having  heard  the  word,  keep  it, 
and  bring  fortJi  fruit  with  patience.'''' 

It  may  be  true,  that  a  right  religious  principle  pro- 
duces corresponding  external  actions,  and  yet  it  may 
not  be  tj  ue,  that  external  actions  are  what  we  should 
always,  or  entirely,  or  principally  look  to  for  the  pur- 
pose of  estimating  our  religious  character;  or  from 
whence  alone  we  should  draw  our  assurance  and  evi- 
dence of  being  in  the  right  way. 

External  actions  must  depend  upon  ability,  and 
must  wait  for  opportunity.  From  a  change  in  the 
heart,  a  visible  outward  change  will  ensue:  from  an 
amendment  of  disposition  an  amended  conduct  will 
follow;  but  it  may  neither  be  so  soon,  nor  so  evident, 
nor  to  such  a  degree,  as  we  may  at  first  sight  expect, 
inasmuch  as  it  will  be  regulated  by  occasions  and 
by  ability.  I  do  not  mean  to  say,  (for  I  do  not  believe 
it  to  be  so,)  that  there  is  any  person  so  forlorn  and 


198  SERMON  XVII. 

destitute,  as  to  have  no  good  in  his  power:  expensive 
kindnesses  may  not;  but  there  is  much  kindness, 
which  is  not  expensive ;  a  kindness  of  temper :  a  rea- 
diness to  oblige :  a  willingness  to  assist :  a  constant 
inclination  to  promote  the  comfort  and  satisfaction  of 
all  who  are  about  us,  of  all  with  whom  we  have  con- 
cern or  connexion,  of  all  with  whom  we  associate  or 
converse. 

There  is  also  a  concern  for  the  virtue  of  those  over 
whom,  or  with  whom,  we  can  have  any  sort  of  in- 
fluence, which  is  a  natural  concomitant  of  a  radical 
concern  for  virtue  in  ourselves. 

But  above  all,  it  is  undoubtedly  in  every  person's 
power,  whether  poor  or  rich,  weak  or  strong,  ill  or  well 
endowed  by  nature  or  education,  it  is,  I  say,  in  every 
person's  power  to  avoid  sin :  if  he  can  do  little  good, 
to  take  care  that  he  do  no  ill. 

Although,  therefore,  there  be  no  person  in  the  world 
so  circumstanced,  but  who  both  can,  and  will  testify 
his  inward  principle  by  his  outward  behaviour,  in  one 
shape,  or  other:  yet,  on  account  of  the  very  great  dif- 
ference of  those  circumstances,  in  which  men  are 
placed,  and  to  which  their  outward  exertions  are  sub- 
jected, .outward  behaviour  is  not  always  a  just  mea- 
sure of  inward  principle. 

But  there  is  a  second  case,  and  that  but  too  common, 
in  which  outward  behaviour  is  no  measure  of  religious 


SERMON  XVII.  199 

principle  at  all:  and  that  is,  when  it  springs  from  other 
and  diftercnt  motives  and  reasons,  from  those  which 
religion  presents.  A  very  bad  man  may  be  externally 
good:  a  man  completely  irreligious  at  the  heart  may, 
for  the  sake  of  character,  for  the  advantage  of  having 
a  good  character,  for  the  sake  of  decency,  for  the  sake 
of  being  trusted  and  respected,  and  well  spoken  of, 
from  a  love  of  praise  and  commendation,  from  a  view 
of  carrying  his  schemes  and  designs  in  the  world,  or  of 
raising  himself  by  strength  of  character,  or  at  least 
from  a  fear,  lest  a  tainted  character  should  be  an  ob- 
stacle to  his  advancement.  From  these,  and  a  thou- 
sand such  sort  of  considerations,  which  might  be 
reckoned  up;  and  with  which,  it  is  evident  that  reli- 
gion hath  no  concern  or  connexion  whatever,  men 
may  be  both  active  and  forward,  and  liberal,  in  doing- 
good;  and  exceedingly  cautious  of  giving  offence  by 
doing  evil;  and  this  may  be  cither  wholly,  or  in  part, 
the  case  with  ourselves. 

In  judging,  therefore,  and  examining  ourselves, 
with  a  view  of  knowing  the  real  condition  of  our  souls, 
the  real  state  and  the  truth  of  our  spiritual  situation  in 
respect  to  God,  and  in  respect  to  salvation,  it  is 
neither  enough,  nor  is  it  safe,  to  look  only  to  our  ex- 
ternal conduct. 

I  do  not  speak  in  any  manner  of  judging  of  othei- 
men;  if  that  were  necessary  at  all,  which,  with  a  view 
to  religion,  it  never  is,  different  rules  must  be  laid 
down  for  it.  I  now  only  speak  of  that  which  is  neces- 


200  SERMON  XVI I. 

sary,  and  most  absolutely  so,  in  judgingrightly  of  our- 
selves. To  our  hearty  therefore,  we  must  look  for 
the  marks  and  tokens^'bf  salvation,  for  the  evidence  of 
being  in  the  right  way.  *'  That  on  the  good  ground 
are  they,  who  in  an  honest  and  good  heart  bring'forth 
fruit  with  patience." 

One  of  these  marks,  and  that  no  slight  one,  is  seri- 
ousness of  the  heart.  I  can  have  no  hope  at  all  of  a 
man,  who  does  not  find  himself  serious  in  religious 
matters,  serious  at  the  heart.  If  the  judgment  of  Al- 
mighty God  at  the  last  day,  if  the  difference  between 
being  saved  and  being  lost,  being  accepted  in  the  be- 
loved, and  being  cast  forth  into  outer  darkness,  being 
bid  by  a  tremendous  word  either  to  enter  into  the  joy  of 
our  Father,  or  to  go  into  the  fire  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels,  for  all  who  have  served  him  and  not 
God;  if  these  things  do  not  make  us  serious,  then  it 
is  most  certain,  either  that  we  do  not  believe  them,  or 
that  we  have  not  yet  thought  of  them  at  all,  or  that 
we  have  positively  broken  off  thinking  of  them,  have 
turned  away  from  the  subject,  have  refused  to  let  it 
enter,  have  shut  our  minds  against  it,  or,  lasdy,  that 
such  a  levity  of  mind  is  our  character,  as  nothing 
whatever  can  make  any  serious  impression  upon.  In 
any  of  these  cases  our  condition  is  deplorable;  we 
cannot  look  for  salvation  from  Christ's  religion  under 
any  of  them.  Do  we  v/ant  seriousness  concerning  reli- 
gion, because  we  do  not  believe  in  it?  we  cannot  expect 
salvation  from  a  religion  which  we  reject.  What  the 
root  of  unbelief  in  us  mav  be,  how  for  voluntary  and 


SERMON  XVII.  201 

avoidable,  how  fur  invokintary  and  unavoidable,  God 
knows,  and  God  only  knows:  and,  therefore,  he  will 
in  his  mercy  treat  us  as  he  thinketh  lit,  but  we  have 
not  the  religion  to  rely  upon,  to  found  our  hopes  upon; 
we  cannot,  as  I  say  again,  expect  salvation  from  a  re- 
ligion which  we  reject. 

If  the  second  case  be  ours,  namel}',  that  we  have  not 
yet  thought  of  these  things,  and  therefore  it  is,  that 
we  are  not  serious  about  them,  it  is  high  time  with 
every  one,  that  he  do  think  of  them.  These  great 
events  are  not  at  a  distance  from  us;  they  approach  to 
every  one  of  us  with  the  end  of  our  lives;  they  are  the 
same  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  if  they  took  place 
at  our  deaths :  it  is  ordained  for  men  once  to  die,  and 
after  that  judgment.  Wherefore  it  is  folly  in  any  man 
or  woman  \vhatever,  in  any  thing  above  a  child,  to  say 
they  have  not  thouglit  of  religion  ;  how  know  they  that 
they  will  be  permitted  to  think  of  it  at  all?  it  is  worse 
than  folly,  it  is  high  presumption.  It  is  an  answer  o\\^. 
sometimes  receives,  but  it  is  a  foolish  answer.  Reli- 
gion can  do  no  good,  till  it  sinks  into  the  thoughts. 
Commune  with  thyself  and  be  still.  Can  any  health, 
or  strengdi,  or  youth,  any  vivacity  of  spirits,  any  crowd 
or  hurry  of  business,  much  less  any  course  of  plea- 
sures be  an  excuse  for  not  thinking  about  religion?  Is 
it  of  importance  only  to  the  old  and  infirm  and  d}'ing 
to  be  saved?  is  it  not  of  the  same  importance  to  the 
young  and  strong?  can  they  be  saved  without  reli- 
gion? or  can  religion  save  them  without  thinking 
about  it? 

2C 


202  SERMON  XVII. 

If,  thirdly,  such  a  levity  of  mind  be  our  character, 
as  nothing  can  make  an  impression  upon,  this  levity 
must  be  cured,  before  ever  we  can  draw  near  unto 
God.  Surely  human  life  wants  not  materials  and  occa- 
sions for  the  remedying  of  this  great  infirmity.  Have 
we  met  with  no  troubles  to  bring  us  to  ourselves?  no 
disasters  in  our  affairs?  no  losses  in  our  families?  no 
strokes  of  misfortune  or  affliction?  no  visitations  in  our 
health?  no  warnings  in  our  constitution?  If  none  of 
these  things  have  befallen  us,  and  it  is  for  that  reason 
that  we  continue  to  want  seriousness  and  solidity  of 
character,  then  it  shows  how  necessary  these  things 
are  for  our  real  interest  and  for  our  real  happiness ;  we 
are  examples  how  little  mankind  can  do  without  them; 
and  that  a  state  of  unclouded  pleasure  and  prosperity 
is  of  all  others  the  most  unfit  for  man.  It  generates 
the  precise  evil  we  complain  of,  a  giddiness  and  levity 
of  temper  upon  which  religion  cannot  act.  It  indis- 
poses a  man  for  weighty  and  momentous  concerns  of 
any  kind ;  but  it  most  fatally  disqualifies  him  for  the 
concerns  of  religion.  That  is  its  worst  consequence, 
though  others  may  be  bad.  I  believe,  therefore,  first, 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  levity  of  thought  and 
character,  upon  which  religion  has  no  effect.  I  believe, 
secondly,  that  this  is  greatly  cherished  by  health  and 
pleasures  and  prosperity,  and  gay  society.  I  believe, 
thirdly,  that  whenever  this  is  the  case,  these  things, 
which  are  accounted  such  blessings,  which  men  covet 
and  envy,  are,  in  truth,  deep  and  heavy  calamities. 
For,  lastly,  I  believe,  that  this  levity  must  be  changed 
into  seriousness,  before  the  mind  infected  with  it,  ca^ 


SERMON  XVII.  203 

come  unto  God;  and  most  assuredly  true  it  is,  that  we 
cannot  come  to  happiness  in  the  next  world,  unless 
we  come  to  God  in  this. 

I  repeat  again,  therefore,  that  we  must  look  to  our 
hearts  for  our  character ;  not  simply  or  solely  to  our 
actions,  which  may  be  and  will  be  of  a  mixed  nature, 
but  to  the  internal  state  of  our  disposition.  That  is  the 
place  in  which  religion  dwells ;  in  that  it  consists.  And 
I  also  repeat,  that  one  of  these  internal  marks  of  a 
right  disposition  of  an  honest  and  good  heart,  as  rela- 
tive to  religion,  is  seriousness.  There  can  be  no  true 
religion  without  it;  and  further,  a  mark  and  test  of  a 
growing  religion,  is  a  growing  seriousness;  so  that 
when,  instead  of  seeing  these  things  at  a  distance,  we 
begin  to  look  7iear  upon  them ;  when,  from  faint,  they 
become  distinct;  when,  instead  of  now  and  then  per- 
ceiving a  slight  sense  of  these  matters,  a  hasty  passage 
of  them,  as  it  were,  through  the  thoughts,  they  begin 
to  rest  and  settle  there;  in  a  word,  when  we  become 
serious  about  religion,  then,  and  not  till  then,  may  we 
hope  that  things  are  going  on  right  within  us :  that  the 
soil  is  prepared:  the  seed  sown.  Its  future  growth  and 
maturity  and  fruit  may  not  yet  be  known,  but  the  seed 
is  sown  in  the  heart:  and  in  a  serious  heart  it  will  not 
be  sown  in  vain;  in  a  heart  not  yet  become  serious,  it 
may. 

Religious  seriousness  is  not  churlishness,  is  not  se- 
verity, is  not  gloominess,  is  not  melancholy:  but  it 
is  nevertheless  a  disposition  of  mind,  and,  like  every 


204  SERMON  XVI I 

disposition,  it  will  show  itself  one  way  or  other.  It  will 
in  the  first  place,  neither  invite,  nor  entertain,  nor  en- 
courage any  thing-,  which  has  a  tendency  to  turn  reli- 
gion into  ridicule.  It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that  a  serious  mind  should  find  delight  or  amusement 
in  so  doing;  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  it 
should  not  feel  an  inward  pain  and  reluctance,  when- 
ever it  is  done.  Therefore,  if  we  are  capable  of  being 
pleased  with  hearing  religion  treated,  or  talked  of  with 
levity,  made,  in  any  manner  whatever,  an  object  of 
,  sport  and  jesting:  if  we  are  capable  of  making  it  so 
ourselves,  or  joining  with  others,  as  in  a  diversion,  in 
so  doing:  nay,  if  we  do  not  feel  ourselves  at  the  heart 
grieved  and  offended,  whenever  it  is  our  lot  to  be  pre- 
sent at  such  sort  of  conversation  and  discourse,  then 
is  the  inference,  as  to  ourselves,  infallible,  that  we  are 
not  yet  serious  in  our  religion:  and  then  it  will  be 
for  us  to  remember,  that  seriousness  is  one  of  those 
marks,  by  which  we  may  fairly  judge  of  the  state  of  our 
mind  and  disposition,  as  to  religion:  and  that  the  state 
of  our  mind  and  disposition  is  the  very  thing  to  be 
consulted,  to  be  known,  to  be  examined  and  searched 
into,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  whether  we  are 
in  a  right  and  safe  way,  or  not.  Words  and  actions 
are  to  be  judged  of  with  a  reference  to  that  disposition, 
which  they  indicate.  There  may  be  language,  there 
may  be  expressions,  there  may  be  behaviour,  of  no 
very  great  consequence  in  itself,  and  considered  in  it- 
self, but  of  very  great  consequence  indeed,  when  con- 
sidered,  as  indicating  a  disposition  and  state  of  mind. 
If  it  show,  with  respect  to  religion,  that  to  be  wanting 


SERMON  XVII.  205 

within,  which  ought  to  be  there,  namely,  a  deep  and 
fixed  sense  of  our  personal  and  individual  concern  in 
religion,  of  its  importance  above  all  other  important 
things,  then  it  shows,  that  there  is  yet  a  deficiency  in 
our  hearts,  which,  without  delay,  must  be  supplied 
by  closer  meditation  upon  the  subject  than  we  have 
hitherto  used,  and,  above  all,  by  earnest  and  unceasing 
prayer  for  such  a  portion  and  measure  of  spiritual  in- 
fluence shed  upon  our  hearts,  as  may  cure  and  remedy 
that  heedlessness  and  coldness,  and  deadness  and  un- 
concern, which  are  fatal,  and  under  which,  we  have 
so  much  reason  to  know,  that  we  as  yet  unhappih 
labour. 


SERMON  XVIll. 

THE  EFFICACY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST 

(PART  I.) 

Hebrews,  ix.  26. 

"  Now  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  he  appeared 
to  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself .'''' 

The  salvation  of  mankind,  and  most  particularly  in 
so  far  as  the  death  and  passion  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  are  concerned  in  it,  and  whereby  he  comes  to 
be  called  our  Saviour  and  our  Redeemer,  ever  has 
been,  and  ever  must  be,  a  most  interesting  subject  to 
all  serious  minds. 

Now  there  is  one  thing,  in  which  there  is  no  divi- 
sion or  difference  of  opinion  at  all,  which  is,  that  the 
death  of  Jesus  Christ  is  spoken  of,  in  reference  to  hu- 
man salvation,  in  terms  and  in  a  manner,  in  which -the 
death  of  no  person  whatever  is  spoken  of  besides. 
Others  have  died  martyrs,  as  well  as  our  Lord.  Others 
have  suffered  in  a  righteous  cause,  as  well  as  he ;  but 
that  is  said  of  him,  and  of  his  death  and  sufferings. 


SERMON  XVIIl.  207 

which  is  not  said  of  any  one  else ;  an  efficacy  and  a  con- 
cern are  ascribed  to  them,  in  the  business  of  human 
salvation,  which  are  not  ascribed  to  any  other. 

What  may  be  called  the  first  gospel  declaration  up- 
on this  subject,  is  the  exclamation  of  John  the  Baptist, 
when  he  saw  Jesus  coming  unto  him.  **  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 
I  think  it  plain  that,  when  John  called  our  Lord  the 
Lamb  of  God,  he  spoke  with  a  relation  to  his  being 
sacrificed,  and  to  the  effect  of  that  sacrifice  upon  the 
pardon  of  human  sin:  and  this,  you  will  observe,  was 
said  of  him,  even  before  he  entered  upon  his  office.  If 
any  doubt  could  be  made  of  the  meaning  of  the  Bap- 
tist's expression,  it  is  settled  by  other  places,  in  which 
the  like  allusion  to  a  lamb  is  adopted;  and  where  the 
allusion  is  specifically  applied  to  his  death,  considered 
as  a  sacrifice.  In  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  the  follow- 
ing words  of  Isaiah  are,  by  Philip  the  evangelist,  dis- 
tinctly applied  to  our  Lord,  and  to  our  Lord's  death. 
'*  He  was  led  as  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter;  and  like  a 
lamb  dumb  before  his  shearers:  so  opened  he  not  his 
mouth;  in  his  humiliation  his  judgment  was  taken 
away,  and  who  shall  declare  his  generation?  for  his  life 
is  taken  from  the  earth:"  "  for  his  life  is  taken  from 
the  earth:"  therefore  it  was  to  his  death,  you  see,  that 
the  description  relates.  Now,  I  say,  that  this  is  applied 
to  Christ  most  distinctly ;  for  the  pious  eunuch,  who 
was  reading  the  passage  in  his  chariot,  was  at  a  loss  to 
know  to  whom  it  should  be  applied.  "  I  pray  thee," 
saith  he  to  Philip,  "  of  whom  speaketh  the  Prophet 


208  SERMON  XVIII. 

this?  of  himself  or  of  some  other  man?"  And  Philip, 
you  read,  taught  him,  that  it  was  spoken  of  Christ. 
And  I  say,  secondly,  that  this  particular  part  and  ex- 
pression of  the  prophecy  being  applied  to  Christ's 
death,  carries  the  whole  prophecy  to  the  same  subject: 
for  it  is  undoubtedly  one  entire  prophecy ;  therefore  the 
other  expressions,  which  are  still  stronger,  are  applica- 
ble as  well  as  this.  *'  He  was  wounded  for  our  trans- 
gressions; he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities;  the  chas- 
tisement of  our  peace  was  upon  him;  and  with  his 
stripes  we  are  healed;  the  Lord  hath  laid  on  him  the 
iniquity  of  us  all."  There  is  a  strong  and  very  appo- 
site text  of  St.  Peter's,  in  which  the  application  of  the 
term  lamb  to  our  Lord,  and  the  sense,  in  which  it  is 
applied,  can  admit  of  no  question  at  all.  It  is  in  the  1st 
chapter  of  the  1st  epistle,  the  18th  and  19th  verses: 
"  Forasmuch  as  ye  know,  that  ye  were  not  redeemed 
with  corruptible  things,  but  with  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without 
spot."  All  the  use  I  make  of  these  passages  is  to  show, 
that  the  Prophet  Isaiah,  six  hundred  years  before  his 
birth;  St.  John  the  Baptist,  upon  the  commencement 
of  his  ministry;  St.  Peter,  his  friend,  companion,  and 
apostle,  after  the  transaction  was  over,  speak  of  Christ's 
death,  under  the  figure  of  a  lamb  being  sacrificed:  that 
is,  in  having  the  effect  of  a  sacrifice,  the  effect  in  kind, 
though  infinitely  higher  in  degree,  upon  the  pardon  of 
sins,  and  the  procurement  of  salvation;  and  that  this  is 
spoken  of  the  death  of  no  other  person  whatever. 

Other  plain  and  distinct  passages,  declaring  the  efii- 


SKKMON   XVIII.  20[) 

<>acy  oi'  Christ's  death,  arc  tlic  follouiny;,  Hebrews,  ix. 
26.  "  Now  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  he  ap- 
peared to  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself. 
Christ  was  once  oHlred  to  bear  the  sins  of  many:  and 
unto  them  that  look  for  him  shall  he  appear  the  second 
time  without  sin  unto  salvation."  And  in  chap.  x.  vcr. 
12.  "  This  man,  after  he  had  offered  one  sacrifice 
for  sin,  for  ever  sat  down  on  the  right  hand  of  God, 
for  by  one  offerinf^  he  hath  perfected  for  ever  them  that 
are  sanctified^"  I  observe  a^ain,  that  nothing;  of  this 
sort  is  said  of  the  death  of  an}  other  person:  no  such 
efficacy  is  imputed  to  any  other  martyrdom.  So  like 
wise  in  the  following  text,  from  the  epistle  to  the  Ro- 
mans: "  while  we  were  yet  sinners  Christ  died  for  us, 
much  more  then  beinj^  now  justified  by  his  blood  we 
shall  be  saved  from  wrath  through  him:  for  if  M^hcn  we 
were  enemies,  we  weroreconciled  to  God  bv  the  death 
of  his  Son,  much  more  being  reconciled  we  shall  be 
saved  by  his  life:"  "  reconciled  to  God  by  the  deatlr 
of  his  Son;"  therefore  that  death  had  an  efiicacy  in  our 
reconciliation ;  but  reconciliation  is  preparatory  to  sal- 
vation. The  same  thing  is  said  by  the  same  apostle  in 
his  epistle  to  the  Colossians:  "  he  has  reconciled  us  to 
his  Father  in  his  cross,  and  in  the  body  of  his  fiesh 
through  death."  What  is  said  of  reconciliation  in 
these  texts,  is  said  in  other  texts  of  sanctification, 
which  also  is  preparatory  to  salvation.  Thus,  He- 
brews, x.  10.  '*  we  are  sanctified:"  how?  namely,  "  by 
the  offering  of  the  body  of  Christ  once  for  ail:"  so 
again  in  the  same  epistle,  "  the  l)lood  of  Jesus  is  called 
the  blood  of  the  covenant  by  which  v.c  are  sanctified.'' 

2  b 


210  SERMON  XVIIL 

In  these  and  many  more  passages,  that  lie  spread  in 
diftbrent  parts  of  the  New  Testament,  it  appears  to  be 
asserted,  that  the  death  of  Christ  had  an  efficacy  in  the 
procurement  of  human  salvation.  Now  these  expres- 
sions mean  something:  mean  something  substantial: 
they  arc  used  concerning  no  other  person,  nor  the  death 
of  any  other  person  whatever.  Therefore  Christ's  death 
was  something  more  than  a  confirmation  of  his  preach- 
ing; something  more  than  a  pattern  of  a  holy  and  patient, 
and  perhaps  voluntary  martyrdom;  something  more 
than  necessarily  antecedent  to  his  resurrection,  by 
which  he  gave  a  grand  and  clear  proof  of  human  resur- 
rection. Christ's  death  was  all  these,  but  it  was  some- 
thing more;  because  none  of  these  ends,  nor  all  of 
them,  satisfy  the  text  you  have  heard;  come  up  to  the 
assertions  and  declarations,  \vhich  are  delivered  con- 
cerning, it.  , 

Now  allowing  the  subject  to  stop  here:  allowing  that 
we  know  nothing,  nor  can  know  any  thing  concerning 
it,  but  what  is  written:  and  that  nothing  more  is  written, 
than  that  the  death  of  Christ  had  a  real  and  essential 
effect  upon  human  salvation,  we  have  certainly  before 
us  a  doctrine  of  a  very  peculiar,  perhaps  I  may  say,  of 
a  very  unexpected  kind,  in  some  measure  hidden  in 
the  counsels  of  the  divine  nature,  but  still  so  far  re- 
vealed to  us,  as  to  excite  tv.  o  great  religious  senti- 
ments, admiration  and  gratitude. 

That  a  person  of  a  nature  different  from  all  othe? 


SERMON  XVIII.  on 

men;  nay  superior,  for  so  he  is  distinctly  described  to 
be,  to  all  created  beings,  whether  men  or  angels:  united 
with  the  Deity  as  no  other  person  is  united:  that  such 
a  person  should  come  down  from  heaven,  and  suifer 
upon  earth  the  pains  of  an  excruciating  death,  and  that 
these  his  submissions  and  sufferings  should  avail  and 
produce  a  great  effect  in  the  procurement  of  the  future 
salvation  of  mankind,  cannot  but  excite  wonder.  But 
it  is  by  no  means  improbable  on  that  account,  on  the 
contrary,  it  might  be  reasonably  supposed  before  hand, 
that  if  any  thing  was  disclosed  to  us  touching  a  future 
life,  and  touching  the  dispensations  of  God  to  men,  it 
would  be  something  of  a  nature  to  excite  admiration. 
In  the  world  in  which  we  live,  we  may  be  said  to  have 
some  knowledge  of  its  laws  and  constitution,  and  na- 
ture: we  have  long  experienced  them:  as  also  of  the 
beings,  with  whom  we  converse  or  amongst  whom  we 
are  conversant,  we  may  be  said  to  understand  some- 
thing; at  least  they  are  familiar  to  us:  we  are  not  sur- 
prised with  appearances,  which  every  day  occur.  But 
of  the  world  and  the  life  to  which  we  are  destined,  and 
of  the  beings  amongst  whom  we  may  be  brought,  the 
case  is  altogether  different.  Here  is  no  experience  to 
explain  things:  no  use  or  familiarity  to  take  off  sur- 
prise, to  reconcile  us  to  difficulties,  to  assist  our  appre- 
hension. In  the  new  order  of  things,  according  to  the 
new  laws  of  nature,  every  thing  will  be  suitable;  suit- 
able to  the  beings,  who  are  to  occupy  the  future  world: 
but  that  suitableness  cannot,  as  it  seems  to  me,  be  pos- 
sibly perceived  by  us,  until  we  are  acqiiainted  with 


212  SERMON  XVIII, 

that  order  and  with  those  beings:  so  that  it  arises,  as 
it  were,  from  the  necessity  of  things,  that  what  is  told 
us  by  a  divine  messenger  of  heavenly  affairs,  of  affairs 
purely  spiritual,  that  is,  relating  purely  to  another 
world,  must  be  so  comprehended  by  us,  as  to  excite 
admiration. 

But,  Secondly;  partially  as  we  may,  or  perhaps  must 
comprehend  this  subject,  in  common  with  all  subjects 
which  relate  strictly  and  solely  to  the  nature  of  our 
future  life,  we  may  comprehend  it  quite  sufficiently  for 
one  purpose :  and  that  is  gratitude.  It  was  only  for  a 
moral  purpose  that  the  thing  was  revealed  at  all:  and 
that  purpose  is  a  sense  of  gratitude  and  obligation. 
This  was  the  use,  which  the  apostles  of  our  Lord,  who 
knew  the  most,  made  of  their  knowledge.  This  was 
the  turn  they  gave  to  their  meditations  upon  the  sub- 
ject; the  impression  it  left  upon  their  hearts.  That  a 
great  and  happy  Being  should  voluntarily  enter  the 
world  in  a  mean  and  low  condition,  and  humble  him- 
self to  a  death  upon  the  cross,  that  is,  to  be  executed 
as  a  malefactor,  in  order,  by  whatever  means  it  was 
done,  to  promote  the  attainment  of  salvation  to  man- 
kind, and  to  each  and  every  one  of  themselves,  was  a 
theme  they  dwelt  upon  w^ith  feelings  of  the  warmest 
thankfulness;  because  they  were  feelings  proportioned 
to  the  magnitude  of  the  benefit.  Earthly  benefits  are 
nothing  compared  with  those,   which  are  heavenly. 
I'hat  they  felt  from  the  bottom  of  their  souls.  That, 
in  my  opinion,  we  do  not  feel  as  we  ought:  but  feeling' 


SERMON  XVIII.  213 

this,  tliey  never  ceased  to  testify,  to  acknowledge,  to 
express  the  deepest  obHgation,  the  most  devout  con- 
sciousness of  that  obHgation  to  their  Lord  and  Master, 
to  him  whom,  for  what  he  had  done  and  suffered,  they 
regarded  as  the  Finisher  of  their  faith,  and  the  Author 
of  their  salvation. 


SERMON  XIX. 


ALL  STAND  IN  NEED  OF  A  REDEEMER. 

(PART  II.) 

Hebrews,  ix.  26. 

"  JVbtf  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  he  appeared  to 
put  away  sin  by  the  sacrijice  of  himself .'''^ 

In  a  former  discourse  upon  this  text  I  have  shown, 
first,  that  the  scriptures  expressly  state  the  death  of 
Jesus  Christ  as  having  an  efficacy  in  the  procurement 
of  human  salvation,  which  is  not  attributed  to  the  death 
or  sufferings  of  any  other  person,  however  patiently 
undergone,  or  undeservedly  inflicted:  and  further  it 
appears  that  this  efficacy  is  quite  consistent  with  our 
obligation  to  obedience;  that  good  works  still  remain 
the  condition  of  salvation,  though  not  the  cause;  the 
cause  being  the  mercy  of  Almighty  God  through  Jesus 
Christ.  There  is  no  man  living,  perhaps,  who  has  con- 
sidered seriously  the  state  of  his  soul,  to  whom  this  is 
not  a  consoling  doctrine,  and  a  grateful  truth.  But 
there  are  some  situations  of  mind,  which  dispose  us  to 
feel  the  weight  and  importance  of  this  doctrine  more 
than  others.  These  situations  I  will  endeavour  to  de- 


SERMON  XIX.  215 

scribe;  and,  in  doing  so,  to  point  out,  how  much  more 
satisfactory  it  is  to  have  a  Saviour  and  Redeemer,  and 
the  mercies  of  our  Creator  excited  towards  us,  and 
communicated  to  us  by  and  through  that  Saviour  and 
Redeemer,  to  confide  in  and  rely  upon,  than  any 
grounds  of  merit  in  ourselves. 

First,  then,  souls  which  are  really  labouring  and 
endeavouring  after  salvation,  and  with  sincerity ;  such 
souls  are  every  hour  made  sensible,  deeply  sensible, 
of  the  deficiency  and  imperfection  of  their  endeavours. 
Had  they  no  ground,  therefore,  for  hope,  but  merits 
that  is  to  say,  could  they  look  for  nothing  more  than 
what  they  should  strictly  deserve,  their  prospect  would 
be  very  uncomfortable.  I  see  not  how  they  could  look 
for  heaven  at  all.  They  may  form  a  conception  of  a 
virtue  and  obedience,  which  might  seem  to  be  entitled 
to  a  high  reward :  but  when  they  come  to  review  their 
own  performances,  and  to  compare  them  with  that 
conception ;  when  the}-  see  how  short  they  have  pro- 
ved of  what  they  ought  to  have  been,  and  of  what 
they  might  hcve  been,  how  weak  and  broken  were 
their  best  ofiices ;  they  will  be  the  first  to  confess,  that 
it  is  infinitely  for  their  comfort,  that  they  have  some 
other  resource  than  their  own  righteousness.  One  infal- 
lible effect  of  sincerity  in  our  endeavours  is  to  beget 
in  us  a  knowledge  of  our  imperfections.  The  careless, 
the  heedless,  the  thoughtless,  the  nominal  christian, 
feels  no  want  of  a  Saviour,  an  Intercessor,  a  Mediator, 
because  he  feels  not  his  own  defects.  Try  in  earnest 
to  perform  the  duties  of  religion,  and  you  will  soon 


216  SERMON  XIX. 

learn  how  incomplete  your  best  performances  are.  I 
can  hardly  mention  a  branch  of  our  duty,  which  is  not 
liable  to  be  both  impure  in  the  motive,  and  imperfect 
in  the  execution;  or  a  branch  of  our  duty,  in  which 
our  endeavours  can  found  their  hopes  of  acceptance 
upon  any  thing  but  extended  mercy,  and  the  efficacy 
of  those  means  and  causes,  which  have  procured  it  to 
be  so  extended. 

In  the  first  place,  is  not  this  the  case  Avith  our  acts 
of  piety  and  devotion?  We  may  admit,  that  pure  and 
perfect  piety  has  a  natural  title  to  reward  at  the  hand 
of  God.  But  is  ours  ever  such?  To  be  pure  in  its 
motive,  it  ought  to  proceed  from  a  sense  of  God  Al- 
mighty's goodness  towards  us,  and  from  no  other 
source  or  cause  or  motive  whatsoever.  Whereas 
even  pious,  comparatively  pious  men,  will  acknow- 
ledge, that  authority,  custom,  decency,  imitation  have 
a  share  in  most  of  their  religious  exercises,  and  that 
they  cannot  warrant  any  of  their  devotions  to  be  en- 
tirely independent  of  these  causes.  I  would  not  speak 
disparagingly  of  the  considerations  here  recited.  They 
are  oftentimes  necessary  inducements,  and  they  may 
be  the  means  of  bringing  us  to  better;  but  still  it  is  true, 
that  devotion  is  not  pure  in  its  origin,  unless  it  flow 
from  a  sense  of  God  Almighty's  goodness,  unmixed 
with  any  other  reason.  But  if  our  worship  of  God  be 
defective  in  its  principle,  and  often  debased  by  the 
mixture  of  impure  motives,  it  is  still  more  deficient, 
when  we  come  to  regard  it  in  its  performances;  our 
devotions   are   broken   and  interrupted,  or  they  are 


SERMON  XIX.  217 

cold  and  languid.  Worldly  thoughts  intrude  them- 
selves upon  them.  Our  worldly  heart  is  tied  down  to 
the  earth.  Our  devotions  are  unworthy  of  God.  We 
lift  not  up  our  hearts  unto  him.  Our  treasure  ig  upon 
earth,  and  our  hearts  are  with  our  treasure.  That  hea- 
venly-mindedness,  which  ought  to  be  inseparable  from 
religious  exercises,  does  not  accompany  ours,  at  least 
not  constanth\  I  speak  not  now  of  the  hypocrite  in 
religion,  of  him  who  only  makes  a  show  of  it.  His 
case  comes  not  within  our  present  consideration.  I 
speak  of  those,  who  are  sincere  men.  These  feel  the 
imperfection  of  their  services;  and  will  acknowledge, 
that  I  have  not  stated  it  more  strongly  than  what  is 
true.  Imperfection  cleaves  to  every  part  of  it.  Our 
thankfulness  is  never  what  it  ought  to  be,  or  any  thing 
like  it;  and  it  is  only  when  we  have  some  particular 
reason  for  being  pleased,  that  we  are  thaixkful  at  all. 
Formality  is  apt  continually  to  steal  upon  us  in  our 
worship;  more  especially  in  our  public  worship:  and 
formality  takes  away  the  immediate  consciousness  of 
what  we  are  doing;  which  consciousness  is  the  very 
life  of  devotion ;  all  that  we  do  without  it  being  a  dead 
ceremony.  No  man  reviews  his  services  towards  God, 
his  religious  services,  but  he  perceives  in  them  much 
to  be  forgiven,  much  to  be  excused:  great  unworthi- 
ness  as  respecting  the  object  of  all  worship;  much 
deficiency  and  imperfection  to  be  passed  over,  before 
our  service  can  be  deemed  in  its  nature  an  acceptable 
service.  That  such  services,  therefore,  should,  in  fact, 
be  allowed  and  accepted,  and  that  to  no  less  an  end 
and  purpose  than  the  attainment  of  heaven,  is  an  act 

2E 


218  SERMON  XIX. 

of  abounding  grace  and  goodness  in  Him,  mIio  ac- 
cepts them;  and  we  are  taught  in  scripture,  that  this 
so  much  wanted  grace  and  goodness  abounds  towards 
us  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  particularly  through  his 
sufferings,  arid  his  death. 

But  to  pass  from  our  acts  of  worship,  which  form 
a  particular  part  only  of  our  duty  to  God ;  to  pass  from 
these  to  our  general  duty,  w^hat,  let  us  ask,  is  that 
duty?  What  is  our  duty  towards  God?  No  other, 
our  Saviour  himself  tells  us,  than  "  to  love  him  with 
all  our  heart,  with  all  our  soul,  with  all  our  strength, 
and  with  all  our  mind."  (Luke,  x.  27.)  Are  we  con- 
scious of  such  love,  to  such  a  degree?  If  we  are  not, 
then,  in  a  most  fundamental  duty,  we  fail  of  being 
what  we  ought  to  be.  Here,  then,  as  before,  is  a  call 
for  pardoning  mercy  on  the  part  of  God ;  which  mercy 
is  extended  to  us  by  the  intervention  of  Jesus  Clirist: 
at  least,  so  the  scriptures  represent  it. 

In  our  duties  towards  one  another,  it  may  be  said, 
that  our  performances  are  more  adequate  to  our  obli- 
gation, than  in  our  duties  to  God:  that  the  subject  of 
them  lies  more  level  Avith  our  capacity;  and  there  may 
be  truth  in  this  observation.  But  still  I  am  afraid,  that 
both  in  principle  and  execution,  our  performances  arc 
not  only  defective,  but  defective  in  a  degree,  which 
\ve  are  not  sufficiently  aware  of.  The  rule  laid  down 
for  us  is  this,  "  to  love  our  neighbour  as  ourselves." 
Which  rule,  in  fact,  enjoins,  that  our  benevolence  be 
as  strong  as  our  self-interest;  that  we  be  as  anxious 


SERMON  XIX.  219 

to  do  good,  as  quick  to  discover,  as  eager  to  embrace 
every  opportunity  of  doing  it,  and  as  active,  and  reso- 
lute, and  persevering  in  our  endeavours  to  do  it,  as 
we  are  anxious  for  ourselves,  and  active  in  the  pur- 
suit of  our  own  interest.  Now  is  this  the  case  with  us? 
Wherein  it  is  not,  we  fall  below  our  rule.  In  the  apos- 
tles of  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  this  rule  was  given  from 
his  own  mouth,  you  may  read  how  it  operated:  and 
their  example  proves,  what  some  deny,  the  possibility 
of  the  thing;  namely,  of  benevolence  being  as  strong 
a  motive  as  self-interest.  They  firmly  believed,  that  to 
bring  men  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ's  religion  was 
the  greatest  possible  good,  that  could  be  done  unto 
them :  was  the  highest  act  of  benevolence  they  could 
exercise.  And,  accordingly,  they  set  about  this  work, 
and  carried  it  on,  with  as  much  energy,  as  much  order, 
as  much  perseverance,  through  as  great-  toils  and  la- 
bours, as  many  sufferings  and  difficulties,  as  any  per- 
son ever  pursued  a  scheme  for  his  own  interest,  or 
for  the  making  of  a  fortune.  They  could  not  possibly 
have  done  more  for  their  own  sakes,  than  what  they 
did  for  the  sake  of  others :  they  literally  loved  their 
neighbours  as  themselves.  Some  have  followed  their 
example  in  this;  and  some  have,  in  zeal  and  energy, 
followed  their  example  in  other  methods  of  doing  good. 
For  I  do  not  mean  to  say,  that  the  particular  method 
of  usefulness,  which  the  office  of  the  apostles  cast  upon 
them,  is  the  only  method,  or  that  it  is  a  method  even 
competent  to  many.  Doing  good,  without  any  selfish 
worldly  motive  for  doing  it,  is  the  grand  thing:  the 
mode  must  be  regulated  by  opportunity  and  occasion; 


220  SERMON  XIX. 

to  which  may  be  added,  that  in  those,  whose  powej 
of  doing  good,  according  to  any  mode,  is  small,  the 
principle  of  benevolence  will  at  least  restrain  them  from 
doing  harm.  If  the  principle  be  subsisting  in  their 
hearts,  it  will  have  this  operation  at  least.  I  ask  there- 
fore again,  as  I  asked  before,  are  we  as  solicitous  to 
seize  opportunies,  to  look  out  for  and  embrace  occa- 
sions of  doing  good,  as  we  are  certainly  solicitous  to 
lay  hold  of  opportunities  of  making  advantage  to  our- 
selves, and  to  embrace  all  occasions  of  profit  and  self- 
interest?  Nay,  is  benevolence  strong  enough  to  hold 
our  hand,  when  stretched  out  for  mischief?  is  it  al- 
ways sufficient  to  make  us  consider  what  misery  we 
are  producing,  whilst  we  are  compassing  a  selfish  end, 
or  gratifying  a  lawless  passion  of  our  own?  Do  the  two 
principles  of  benevolence  and  self-interest  possess  any 
degree  of  parallelism  and  equality  in  our  hearts,  and 
in  our  conduct?  If  they  do,  tlien,  so  far  we  come  up 
to  our  rule.  Wherein  they  do  not,  as  I  said  before,  we 
fall  below  it.  When  not  only  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, but  even  those,  who  are  endeavouring  to  do  their 
duty,  apply  this  standard  to  themselves;  they  are  made 
to  learn  the  humiliating  lesson  of  their  own  deficiency. 
That  such  our  deficiency  should  be  overlooked,  so  as 
not  to  become  the  loss  to  us  of  happiness  after  death; 
that  our  poor,  weak,  humble  endeavours  to  comply  with 
our  Saviour's  rule  should  be  received  and  not  reject- 
ed; I  say,  if  we  hope  for  this,  we  must  hope  for  it, 
not  on  the  ground  of  congruity  or  desert,  which  it 
will  not  bear;  but  from  the  extreme  benignity  of  a 
merciful  God,  and  the  availing  mediation  of  a  Re- 


SERMON  XIX.  221 

cleemer.  You  will  observe,  that  I  am  still,  and  have 
been  all  along,  speaking  of  sincere  men,  of  those  who 
are  in  earnest  in  their  duty  and  in  religion :  and  I  say, 
upon  the  strength  of  what  has  been  alleged,  that  even 
these  persons,  when  they  read  in  scripture  of  the  riches 
of  the  goodness  of  God,  of  the  powerful  efficacy  of 
the  death  of  Christ,  of  his  mediation  and  continual  in- 
tercession, know  and  feel  in  their  hearts,  that  they 
stand  in  need  of  them  all. 

In  that  remaining  class  of  duties,  which  are  called 
duties  to  ourselves,  the  observation,  we  have  made 
upon  the  deficiency  of  our  endeavours,  applies  with 
equal  or  with  greater  force.  More  is  here  wanted,  than 
the  mere  command  of  our  actions.  The  heart  itself  is 
to  be  regulated;  the  hardest  thing  in  this  world  to 
manage.  The  affections  and  passions  are  to  be  kept  in 
order;  constant  evil  propensities  are  to  be  constantly 
opposed.  I  apprehend,  that  every  sincere  man  is  con- 
scious how  unable  he  is  to  fulfil  this  part  of  his  duty, 
even  to  his  own  satisfaction :  and  if  our  conscience  ac- 
cuse us,  "God  is  greater  than  our  conscience,  and 
knoweth  all  things."  If  we  see  our  sad  failings.  He 
must.  God  forbid,  that  any  thing  I  say,  either  upon 
this,  or  the  other  branches  of  our  duty,  should  damp 
our  endeavours.  Let  them  be  as  vigorous,  and  as  stead- 
fast as  they  can.  They  will  be  so,  if  we  are  sincere; 
and  without  sincerity  there  is  no  hope:  none  whatever. 
But  there  will  always  be  left  enough,  infinitely  more 
than  enough,  to  humble  self-sufficiency. 


222  SERMON  XIX. 

Contemplate,  then,  what  is  placed  before  us:  hea- 
ven. Understand  what  heaven  is :  a  state  of  happiness 
after  death,  exceeding  what,  without  experience,  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  conceive,  and  unlimited  in  duration. 
This  is  a  reward,  infinitely  beyond  any  thing  we  can 
pretend  to,  as  of  right,  as  merited,  as  due.  If  some  dis- 
tinction between  us  and  others,  between  the  compara- 
tively good  and  the  bad,  might  be  expected  on  these 
grounds,  not  such  a  reward  as  this,  even  were  our 
services,  I  mean  the  services  of  sincere  men,  perfect. 
But  such  services  as  ours  in  truth  are,  such  services 
as  in  fact  we  perform,  so  poor,  so  deficient,  so  broken, 
so  mixed  with  alloy,  so  imperfect  both  in  principle  and 
execution,  what  have  they  to  look  for  upon  their  own 
foundation?  When,  therefore,  the  scriptures  speak  to 
us  of  a  Redeemer,  a  Mediator,  an  Intercessor  for  us ; 
when  they  display  and  magnify  the  exceeding  great 
mercies  of  God,  as  set  forth  in  the  salvation  of  man, 
according  to  any  mode  whatever,  which  he  might  be 
pleased  to  appoint,  and  therefore  in  that  mode,  which 
the  gospel  holds  forth,  they  teach  us  no  other  doctrine 
than  that,  to  which  the  actual  deficiencies  of  our  duty, 
and  a  just  consciousness  and  acknowledgment  of  these 
deficiencies  must  naturallv  carrv  our  own  minds.  What 
we  feel  in  ourselves  corresponds  with  what  \re  read  in 
scripture. 


SERMON  XX, 


THE  EFFICACY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST  CON- 
SISTENT WITH  THE  NECESSITY  OF  A  GOOD  LIFE: 
THE  ONE  BEING  THE  CAUSE,  THE  OTHER  THE 
CONDITION  OF  SALVATION. 

Romans,  vi.  1. 

"'  What  shall ive  say  then?  shall  we  continue  in  sin,  that 
grace  may  abound?  God  forbid.'''' 

1  HE  same  scriptures,  which  represent  the  death  of 
Christ,  as  having  that  which  belongs  to  the  death  of  no 
other  person,  namely,  an  efficacy  in  procuring  the  sal- 
vation of  man,  are  also  constant  and  uniform  in  repre- 
senting the  necessity  of  our  own  endeavours,  of  our 
own  good  works  for  the  same  purpose.  They  go  further. 
They  foresaw  that  in  stating  and  still  more,  when  they 
went  about  to  extol  and  magnify,  the  death  of  Christ, 
as  instrumental  to  salvation,  they  were  laying  a  foun- 
dation for  the  opinion,  that  men's  own  works,  their  own 
virtue,  their  personal  endeavours  were  superseded  and 
dispensed  with.  In  proportion  as  the  sacrifice  of  the 
death  of  Christ  was  effectual,  in  the  same  proportion 
w^ere  these  less  necessary:  if  the  death  of  Christ  was 
sufficient,  if  redemption  was  complete,  then  were  these 


224  SERMON  XX- 

not  necessary  at  all.  They  foresaw  that  some  would 
draw  this  consequence  from  their  doctrine,  and  they 
provided  against  it.  It  is  observable,  that  the  same  con- 
sequence might  be  deduced  from  the  goodness  of  God 
in  any  way  of  representing  it:  not  only  in  the  particular 
and  peculiar  way,  in  which  it  is  represented  in  the  re- 
demption of  the  world  by  Jesus  Christ,  but  in  any 
other  way.  St.  Paul,  for  one,  Wcvs  sensible  of  this;  and, 
therefore,  when  he  speaks  of  the  goodness  of  God, 
even  in  general  terms,  he  takes  care  to  point  out  the 
only  true  turn  which  ought  to  be  given  to  it  in  our 
thoughts — "  Despisest  thou  the  riches  of  his  goodness 
and  forbearance,  and  long-suffering;  not  knowing  that 
the  goodness  of  God  leadeth  thee  to  repentance?"  as 
if  he  had  said, — With  thee,  I  perceive,  that  the  con- 
sideration of  the  goodness  of  God  leads  to  the  allowing 
of  thyself  in  sin:  this  is  not  to  know  what  that  consi- 
deration ought  in  truth  to  lead  to:  it  ought  to  lead  thee 
to  repentance,  and  to  no  other  conclusion. 

Again:  When  the  Apostle  had  been  speaking  of  the 
righteousness  of  God  displayed  by  the  wickedness  of 
man ;  he  was  not  unaware  of  the  misconstruction,  to 
which  this  representation  was  liable,  and  which  it  had, 
in  fact,  experienced:  which  misconstruction  he  states 
thus, — "  We  be  slanderously  reported,  and  some  af- 
firm, that  we  say,  let  us  do  evil  that  good  may  come." 
This  insinuation,  however,  he  regards  as  nothing  less 
than  an  unfair  and  wilful  perversion  of  his  words, 
and  of  the  words  of  other  christian  teachers :  therefore 
he  says  concerning  those,  who  did  thus  pervert  them. 


SERMON  XX.  225 

''  their  condemnation  is  just;"  ihcy  \\  ill  be  justly  con- 
denrntd  for  thus  abusing  tlic  doctrine,  which  \vc  teach. 
The  passage,  however,  clearly  shows,  that  the  applica- 
tion of  their  expressions  to  the  encouragement  of  li- 
centiousness of  life,  was  an  application  contrary  to  tTieir 
intention;  and,  in  fact,  a  perversion  of  their  words. 

In  like  manner  in  the  same  chapter  our  Apostle  had 
no  sooner  laid  down  the  doctrine,  tliat  "  a  man  is  jus- 
tified by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the  law,"  than  he 
checks  himself,  as  it  were,  by  subjoining  this  proviso; 
"  Do  we  then  make  void  the  law  through  faith?  God 
forbid:  yea,  we  establish  the  law."  Whatever  he  meant 
by  his  assertion  concerning  faith,  he  takes  care  to  let 
them  know  he  did  not  mean  this,  "  to  make  void  the 
law,"  or  to  dispense  with  obedience. 

But  the  clearest  text  to  our  purpose  is  that,  un- 
doubtedly, which  I  have  prefixed  to  this  discourse. 
St.  Paul,  after  expatiating  largely  upon  the  "  grace," 
that  is,  the  favour,  kindness,  and  mercy  of  God,  the 
extent,  the  greatness,  the  comprehensiveness  of  that 
mercy,  as  manifested  in  the  christian  dispensation, 
puts  this  question  to  his  reader — "  ^Vhat  shall  we 
say  then?  shall  we  continue  in  sin,  that  grace  may 
abound?"  which  he  answers  by  a  strong  negative — 
"'  God  forbid."  What  the  apostle  designed  in  this  pas- 
sage is  sufficiently  evident.  He  knew  in  what  manner 
some  might  be  apt  to  construe  his  expressions:  and  he 
anticipates  their  mistake.  He  is  bcfoi'chand  uith  them, 
by  protesting  against  any  suclj  use  being  made  of  his 

^2F 


226  SERMON  XX. 

doctrine;  which,  yet  he  was  aware,  might  by  possibi- 
lity be  made. 

By  w^ay  of  showing  scriptorally  the  obligation  and 
the  necessity  of  personal  endeavours  after  virtue,  all 
the  numerous  texts,  which  exhort  to  virtue,  and  ad- 
monish us  against  vice,  might  be  quoted,  for  they  are 
all  directly  to  the  purpose ;  that  is,  we  might  quote  eve- 
ry page  of  the  New  Testament.  "  Not  every  one  that 
saith  unto  me.  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Fa- 
ther which  is  in  heaven."  "  If  ye  know  these  things, 
happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them."  In  both  these  texts  the 
reward  attends  the  doing:  the  promise  is  annexed  to 
works.  Again;  "  To  them,  who  by  patient  continu- 
ance in  well-doing  seek  for  glory  and  immortality, 
eternal  life:  but  unto  them  that  are  contentious,  and 
obey  not  the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteousness,  tribula- 
tion and  anguish  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth 
evil.''''  Again;  "  Of  the  which,"  namely,  certain  enu- 
merated vices,  "  I  tell  you  before,  as  I  have  also  told 
you  in  time  past,  that  they,  which  do  such  things,  shall 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  These  are  a  few 
amongst  many  texts  of  the  same  effect,  and  they  arc 
such  as  can  never  be  got  over.  Stronger  terms  cq^mot 
be  devised  than  what  are  here  used.  Were  the  pur- 
pose, therefore,  simply  to  prove  from  scripture  the  ne- 
cessity of  virtue,  and  the  danger  of  vice,  so  far  as  sal- 
vation is  concerned,  these  texts  are  decisive.  But  when 
an  answer  is  to  be  given  to  those,  who  so  interpret 
certain  passages  of  the  apostolic  writings,  especially 


SERMON  XX.  227 

the  passages  wliicli  speak  of  the  efficacy  of  the  death 
of  Christ,  or  draw  such  inferences  from  these  passages, 
as  amount  to  a  dispensing  with  the  obligations  of  a  ir- 
lue,  tlien  tiie  best  method  of  proving,  that  theirs  can- 
not be  a  right  interpretation,  nor  theirs  just  inferences, 
is,  by  showing,  which  fortunately  we  are  able  to  do, 
that  it  is  the  \'ery  interpretation,  and  these  the  very  in- 
i'crences,  which  the  apostles  were  themselves  aware  of, 
vv'hich  they  provided  against,  and  which  they  protested 
against.  The  four  texts,  quoted  from  the  apostolic 
writings  in  this  discourse,  were  quoted  with  this  view; 
and  they  may  be  considered,  1  think,  as  showing  the 
minds  of  the  authors  upon  the  point  in  question  more 
determinately,  than  any  general  exhortation  to  good 
works,  or  any  general  denunciation  against  sin  could 
do.  I  assume,  therefore,  as  a  proved  point,  that  \vhat- 
cver  was  said  by  the  apostles  concerning  the  efficacy 
of  the  death  of  Christ,  was  said  by  them  under  an  ap- 
prehension, that  they  did  not  thereby  in  any  manner 
relax  the  motives,  the  obligation,  or  the  necessity  of 
good  works.  But  still  there  is  another  important  ques- 
tion behind;  namely,  whether,  notwithstanding  what 
the  apostles  have  said,  or  may  have  meant  to  say, 
there  be  not,  in  the  nature  of  things,  an  invincible  in- 
consistency between  the  efficacy  of  the  death  of  Christ 
and  the  necessity  of  a  good  life ;  whether  those  two 
propositions  can,  in  fair  reasoning,  stand  together;  or 
whether  it  does  not  necessarily  follow,  that  if  the  death 
of  Christ  be  efficacious,  then  good  works  are  no  longer 
jfiecessary:  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that,  if  good  works 


228  SERMON  XX. 

be  still  necessary,  then  is  the  death  of  Christ  not  effi- 


cacious. 


Now,  to  give  an  account  of  this  question,  and  of 
die  difficulty  which  it  seems  to  present,  we  must  bear 
in  mind,  that  in  the  business  of  salvation  there  are 
naturally  and  properly  two  things,  viz.  the  cause  and 
the  condition;  and  that  these  two  things  are  different. 
We  should  see  better  the  propriety  of  this  distincrion, 
it  we  would  allow  ourselves  to  consider  well  what  sal- 
vation is:  what  the  being  saved  m^ans.  It  is  nothing 
less  than,  after  this  life  is  ended,  being  placed  in  a 
state  of  happiness  exceedingly  great,  both  in  degree 
and  duration;  a  state,  concerning  which  the  following 
things  are  said:  *'  the  sufferings  of  this  present  world 
are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that 
shall  be  revealed."  "  God  hath  in  store  for  us  such 
things  as  pass  man's  understanding."  So  that,  you 
see,  it  is  not  simply  escaping  punishment,  simply  be- 
ing excused  or  forgiven,  simply  being  compensated 
or  repaid  for  the  little  good  we  do,  but  it  is  infinitely 
more;  heaven  is  infinitely  greater  than  mere  compen- 
sation, which  natural  religion  itself  might  lead  us  to 
expect.  What  do  the  scriptures  call  it?  "  Glory,  ho- 
nour, immortality,  eternal  life."  "  To  them  that  seek 
for  glory  and  honour  and  immortality,  eternal  life." 
Will  any  one  then  contend,  that  salvation  in  this  sense, 
and  to  this  extent;  that  heaven,  eternal  life,  glory,  ho- 
nour, immortality;  that  a  happiness  such  as  that  there 
is  no  way  of  describing  it,  but  by  saying  that  it  sur^ 


SERMON  XX.  229 

passes  human  comprehension,  that  it  casts  the  suffer- 
ings of  this  life  at  such  a  distance,  as  not  to  bear  any 
comparison  \\ith  it:  will  any  one  contend,  that  this  is 
no  more  than  what  virtue  deserves,  what,  in  its  own 
proper  nature,  and  by  its  own  merit,  it  is  entitled  to 
look  forward  to,  and  to  receive?  The  greatest  virtue, 
that  man  ever  attained,  has  no  such  pretensions.  The 
best  good  action,  that  man  ever  performed,  has  no 
claim  to  this  extent,  or  any  thing  like  it.  It  is  out  of 
all  calculation,  and  comparison,  and  proportion  above, 
and  more  than  any  human  works  can  possibly  deserve. 
To  what  then  are  we  to  ascribe  it,  that  endeavours 
after  virtue  should  procure,  and  that  they  will,  in  fact, 
procure,  to  those,  who  sincerely  exert  them,  such  im- 
mense blessings?  To  what,  but  to  the  voluntary  bounty 
of  Almighty  God,  who  in  his  inexpressible  good  plea- 
sure hath  appointed  it  so  to  be?  I'he  benignity  of  God 
towards  man  hath  made  him  this  inconceivably  advan- 
tageous offer.  But  a  most  kind  oflf'er  may  still  be  a 
conditional  offer.  And  this,  though  an  infinitely  gra- 
cious and  beneficial  ofi'er,  is  still  a  conditional  offer; 
and  the  performance  of  the  conditions  is  as  necessary, 
as  if  it  had  been  an  offer  of  mere  retribution.  The 
kindness,  the  bounty,  the  generosity  of  the  offer,  do 
not  make  it  less  necessary  to  perform  the  conditions, 
but  more  so.  A  conditional  offer  may  be  infinitely  kind 
on  the  part  of  the  benefactor,  who  makes  it,  may  be 
infinitely  beneficial  to  those,  to  whom  it  is  made;  if  it 
be  from  a  Prince  or  Governor,  may  be  infinitely  gra- 
cious and  merciful  on  his  part ;  and  yet,  being  condi- 
tional, the  condition  is  as  necessary,  as  if  the  offer  had 


230  SERMON  XX. 

been  no  more  tlian  that  of  scanty  wages  by  a  hard 
taskmaster.  In  considering  this  matter  in  general,  the; 
whole  of  it  appears  to  be  very  pL.in;  yet,  when  we 
apply  the  consideration  to  religion,  there  are  two  mis- 
takes, into  which  we  are  very  liable  to  fall.  The  first  is, 
that  when  we  hear  so  much  of  the  exceedingly  great 
kindness  of  the  offer,  we  are  apt  to  infer,  that  the  con- 
ditions, upon  which  it  is  made,  will  not  be  exacted. 
Does  that  at  all  follow?  Because  the  offer,  even  with 
these  conditions,  is  represented  to  be  the  fruit  of  love 
and  mercy  and  kindness,  and  is  in  truth  so,  and  is 
most  justly  so  to  be  accounted,  does  it  follow  that  the 
conditions  of  the  oflir  are  not  necessary  to  be  per- 
formed? This  is  one  error,  into  which  we  slide,  against 
which  we  ought  to  guard  ourselves  most  diligently: 
for  it  is  not  simply  false  in  its  principle,  but  most  per- 
nicious  in  its  application;  its  application  always  being 
to  countenance  us  in  some  sin,  which  we  will  not  re- 
linquish. The  second  mistake  is,  that,  when  we  have 
performed  the  conditions,  or  think  that  we  have  per- 
formed the  conditions,  or  when  we  endeavour  to  per- 
form the  conditions,  upon  which  the  reward  is  offered, 
we  forthwith  attribute  our  obtaining  the  reward  to  this 
our  performance  or  endeavour,  and  not  to  that,  which 
is  the  beginning  and  foimdation  and  cause  of  the  whole, 
the  true  and  proper  cause,  namely,  the  kindness  and 
bounty  of  the  original  offer.  This  turn  of  thought 
likewise,  as  well  as  the  former,  it  is  necessary  to  warn 
you  against.  For  it  has  these  consequences:  it  damps 
our  8:ratitude  to  God;  it  lakes  off  our  attention  from 
Him.  Some,  who  allow  the  necessity  of  good  works 


SERMON  XX.  231 

to  salvation,  arc  not  willing  that  they  should  be  called 
conditions  of  salvation.  But  this,  I  think,  is  a  distinc- 
tion too  refined  for  common  christian  apprehension. 
If  they  be  necessary  to  salvation,  they  are  conditions 
of  salvation,  so  far  as  I  can  see.  It  is  a  question,  how- 
ever, not  now  before  us. 

But  to  return  to  the  immediate  subject  of  our  dis- 
course. Our  observations  have  carried  us  thus  far, 
that  in  the  business  of  human  salvation  there  are  two 
most  momentous  considerations,  the  cause  and  the 
conditions,  and  that  these  considerations  are  distinct. 
T  now  proceed  to  say,  that  there  is  no  inconsistency 
between  the  efficacy  of  the  death  of  Christ  and  the 
necessity  of  a  holy  life,  (by  which  I  mean  sincere  en- 
deavours after  holiness;)  because  the  first,  the  death 
of  Christ,  relates  to  the  cause  of  salvation;  the  second, 
namely,  good  works,  respects  the  conditiou-s  of  sal- 
vation; and  that  the  cause  of  salvation  is  one  thing, 
the  conditions  another. 

The  cause  of  salvation  is  the  free  will,  the  free  gift, 
the  love  and  mercy  of  God.  That  alone  is  the  source 
and  fountain,  and  cause  of  salvation,  the  origin  from 
"which  it  springs,  from  which  all  our  hopes  of  attain- 
ing to  it  are  derived.  This  cause  is  not  in  ourselves, 
nor  in  any  thing  we  do,  or  can  do,  but  in  God,  in  his 
good  will  and  pleasure.  It  is,  as  we  have  before  shown, 
in  the  graciousness  of  the  original  offer.  Therefore, 
whatever  shall  have  moved  and  excited  and  concilia- 
ted that  good  will  and  pleasure,  so  as  to  have  procur- 


232  SERMON  XX. 

cd  that  oft'er  to  be  made,  or  shall  hav^e  formed  any  part 
or  portion  of  the  motive,  from  which  it  was  made, 
may  most  truly  and  properly  be  said  to  be  efficacious 
in  human  salvation. 

This  efficacy  is  in  scripture  attributed  to  the  death 
of  Christ.  It  is  attributed  in  a  variety  of  ways  of  ex- 
pression, but  this  is  the  substance  of  them  all.  He  is 
a  sacrifice,  an  offering  to  God;  a  propitiation;  the  pre- 
cious sacrifice  foreordained,  "  the  Lamb  slain  from  the 
foundation  of  the  "world;  the  Lamb  which  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world:  we  are  washed  in  his  blood;  we 
are  justified  by  his  blood;  wc  are  saved  from  wrath 
through  him;  he  hath  once  suffered  for  sins,  the  just 
for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God."  All 
these  terms,  and  many  more  that  are  used,  assert  in 
substance  the  s;ime  thing,  namely,  the  efficacy  of  the 
death  of  Christ  in  the  procuring  of  human  salvation. 
To  give  ^to  these  expressions  their  proper  moment  and 
import,  it  is  necessary  to  reflect  over  and  over  again, 
and  b}'  reflection  to  impress  our  minds  with  a  just 
idea,  what  and  how  great  a  thing  salvation  is;  for  it  is 
by  means  of  that  idea  alone,  that  we  can  e"\  er  come  to 
be  sensible,  how  unspeakably  important,  how  inesti- 
mable in  value,  any  efficacy,  which  operates  upon  that 
event,  must  be  to  us  all.  The  highest  terms,  in  which 
the  scriptures  speak  of  that  efficacy,  are  not  too  great : 
cannot  be  too  great;  because  it  respects  an  interest 
and  an- event  so  vast,  so  momentous,  as  to  make  all 
other  interests,  and  all  other  events  in  comparison 
contemptible. 


SERMON  XX,  233 

The  sum  of  our  argument  is  briefly  this. — There 
may  appear,  and  to  many  there  has  appeared,  to  bean 
inconsistency  or  incompatibility  between  the  efficacy 
of  the  death  of  Christ,  and  the  necessity  of  sincere 
endeavours  after  obedience.  When  the  subject  is  pro- 
perly examined,  there  turns  out  to  be  no  such  incom- 
patibility. The  graciousness  of  an  offer  does  not  di- 
minish the  necessity  of  the  condition.  Suppose  a 
Prince  to  promise  to  one  of  his  subjects,  upon  com- 
pliance with  certain  terms  and  the  performance  of 
certain  duties,  a  reward,  in  magnitude  and  value,  out 
of  all  competition  beyond  the  merit  of  the  compliance, 
the  desert  of  the  performance;  to  what  shall  such  a 
subject  ascribe  the  happiness  held  out  to  him?  He  is 
an  ungrateful  man,  if  he  attribute  it  to  any  cause 
whatever,  but  to  the  bounty  and  goodness  of  his  Prince 
in  milking  him  the  offer;  or  if  he  suffer  any  considera- 
tion, be  it  what  it  will,  to  interfere  with,  or  diminish, 
his  sense  of  that  bounty  and  goodness.  Still  it  is  true 
that  he  will  not  obtain  what  is  offered,  unless  he  com- 
ply with  the  terms;  so  far  his  compliance  is  a  condi- 
tion of  his  happiness.  But  the  grand  thing  is  the  offer 
being  made  at  all.  That  is  the  ground  and  origin  of 
the  whole.  That  is  the  cause.  And  is  ascribable  to 
favour,  grace,  and  goodness,  on  the  part  of  the  Prince, 
and  to  nothing  else.  It  would,  therefore,  be  the  last 
degree  of  ingratitude  in  such  a  subject,  to  forget  his 
Prince,  whilst  he  thought  of  himself;  to  forget  the 
cause,  whilst  he  thought  of  the  condition :  to  regard 
every  thing  promised  as  merited.  The  generosity,  the 
kindness,  the  voluntariness,  the  bounty  of  the  original 

2G 


-234  SERMON  XX. 

offer,  come  by  this  means  to  be  neglected  in  his  mind 
entirely.  This,  in  my  opinion,  describes  our  situation 
with  respect  to  God.  The  love,  goodness,  and  grace 
of  God,  in  making  us  a  tender  of  salvation,  and  the 
effects  of  the  death  of  Christ  do  not  diminish  the 
necessity  or  the  obligation  of  the  condition  of  the  ten- 
der, which  is  sincere  endeavours  after  holiness;  nor 
are  in  anywise  inconsistent  with  such  obligation. 


SERMON  XXI. 

PURE  RELIGION. 

James,  i.  27. 

"  Pure  religion  and  nndefiled  before  God  a?id  the 
Father  is  thisy  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in 
their  affiiction,  and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the 
world.'*'' 

^  OTHING  can  be  more  useful  than  summary  views  of 
our  duty,  if  they  be  well  drawn,  and  rightly  understood. 
It  is  a  great  advantage  to  have  our  business  laid  before 
us  altogether;  to  see  at  one  comprehensive  glance,  as 
it  were,  what  we  are  to  do,  and  what  we  are  not  to  do.  It 
would  be  a  great  ease  and  satisfaction  to  both,  if  it  were 
possible,  for  a  master  to  give  his  servant  directions  for 
his  conduct  in  a  single  sentence,  which  he,  the  servant 
had  only  to  apply  and  draw  out  into  practice,  as  occa- 
sions offered  themselves,  in  order  to  discharge  every 
thing  which  was  required  or  expected  from  him. 
This,  which  is  not  practicable  in  civil  life,  is  in  a  good 
degree  so  in  a  religious  life;  because  a  religious  life 
proceeds  more  upon  principle,  leaving  the  exercise 
and  manifestation  of  that  principle  more  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  individual,  than  it  can  be  left  where,  from 


236  SERMON  XXI. 

the  nature  of  the  case,  one  man  is  to  act  precisely  ac- 
cording to  another  man's  direction. 

But  then,  as  I  have  said,  it  is  essentially  necessary,, 
that  these  summaries  be  well  drawn  up,  and  rightly 
understood;  because  if  they  profess  to  state  the  whole 
of  men's  duties,  yet,  in  fact,  state  it  partially  and  im- 
perfectly, all,  who  read  them,  are  misled,  and  dange- 
rously misled.  In  religion,  as  in  other  things,  we  are 
too  apt  of  ourselves  to  substitute  a  part  for  the  whole. 
Substituting  a  part  for  the  whole  is  the  grand  tenden- 
cy of  human  corruption  in  matters  both  of  morality 
and  religion:  which  propensity,  therefore,  will  be  en- 
couraged, when  that,  which  professes  to  exhibit  the 
whole  of  religion,  does  not,  in  truth,  exhibit  the  whole. 
What  is  there  omitted,  we  shall  omit,  glad  of  the  oc- 
casion and  excuse:  what  is  not  set  down  as  our  duty, 
we  shall  not  think  ourselves  obliged  to  perform,  not 
caring  to  increase  the  weight  of  our  own  burthen. 
This  is  the  case  whenever  we  use  summaries  of  reli- 
gion, which,  in  truth,  are  imperfect  or  ill  drawn.  But 
there  is  another  case  more  common,  and  productive 
of  the  same  effect,  and  that  is,  when  we  misconstrue 
these  summary  accounts  of  our  duty;  principally  when 
we  conceive  of  them  as  intending  to  express  more 
than  they  were  really  intended  to  express;  for  then  it 
Comes  to  pass,  that,  although  they  be  right  and  perfect, 
as  to  what  the)^  were  intended  for,  yet  they  are  wrong 
and  imperfect,  as  to  what  we  construe  and  conceive 
them  for.  This  observation  is  particularly  applicable 
to  the  text.  St.  James  is  here  describing  religion,  not 


SERMaN  XXI.  237 

ill  its  principle,  but  in  its  effects;  and  these  effects  are 
truly  and  justly  and  fully  displayed.  They  are  by  the 
apostle  made  to  consist  in  two  large  articles,  in  suc- 
couring the  distress  of  others,  and  maintaining  our 
own  innocency:  and  these  two  articles  do  comprehend 
the  whole  of  the  effects  of  true  religion :  which  were 
exactly  what  the  apostle  meant  to  describe.  Had  St. 
James  intended  to  have  set  forth  the  motives  and 
principles  of  religion,  as  they  ought  to  subsist  in  the 
heart  of  a  christian,  I  doubt  not  but  he  would  have 
mentioned  love  to  God,  and  faith  in  Jesus  Christ;  for 
from  these  must  spring  every  thing  good  and  accept- 
able in  our  actions.  In  natural  objects  it  is  one  thing 
to  describe  the  root  of  a  plant,  and  another  its  fruits 
and  flowers ;  and  if  we  think  a  writer  is  describing  the 
roots  and  fibres,  when,  in  truth,  he  is  describing  the 
fruit  or  flowers,  we  shall  mistake  his  meaning,  and 
our  mistake  must  produce  great  confusion.  So  in 
spiritual  aflfairs,  it  is  one  thing  to  set  before  us  the 
principle  of  religion,  and  another  the  eflfects  of  it. 
These  are  not  to  be  confounded.  And  if  we  apply  a 
description  to  one,  which  was  intended  for  the  other, 
we  deal  unfairly  by  the  writer  of  the  description,  and 
erroneously  by  ourselves.  Therefore,  first,  let  no  one 
suppose  the  love  of  God,  the  thinking  of  him,  the 
being  grateful  to  him,  the  fearing  to  disobey  him,  not 
to  be  necessary  parts  of  true  religion,  because  they  are 
not  mentioned  in  St.  James's  account  of  true  religion. 
The  answ^er  is,  that  these  compose  the  principles  of 
true  religion ;  St.  James's  account  relates  to  the  eflfects. 
In  like  manner  concerning  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  St 


238  SERMON  XXI. 

James  has  recorded  his  opinion  upon  that  subject.  His 
doctrine  is,  that  the  tree,  which  bears  no  fruit,  cannot 
be  sound  at  the  root,  that  the  faith,  which  is  unproduc- 
tive, is  not  the  right  faith :  but  then  this  is  allowing, 
(and  not  denying,)  that  a  right  faith  is  the  source  and 
spring  of  true  virtue:  and  had  our  apostle  been  asked 
to  state  the  principle  of  religion,  I  am  persuaded  he 
would  have  referred  us  to  a  true  faith.  But  that  was 
not  the  inquiry:  on  the  contrary,  having  marked 
strongly  the  futility  of  a  faith,  which  produced  no 
good  effects  upon  life  and  action,  he  proceeds  in  the 
text  to  tell  us  what  the  effects  are,  which  it  ought  to 
produce ;  and  these  he  disposes  into  two  comprehen- 
sive classes,  (but  still  meaning  to  describe  the  effects 
of  religion  and  not  its  root  or  principle,)  positive  vir- 
tue and  personal  innocence. 

Now,  I  say,  that,  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
intended,  the  account  given  by  St.  James  is  full  and 
complete :  and  it  carries  with  it  this  peculiar  advan- 
tage, that  it  very  specially  guards  against  an  error, 
natural,  I  believe,  and  common  in  all  ages  of  the 
world;  which  is,  the  making  beneficence  an  apology 
for  licentiousness;  the  thinking  that  doing  good  occa- 
sionally may  excuse  us  from  strictness  in  regulating 
our  passions  and  desires.  The  text  expressly  cuts  up 
this  excuse,  because  it  expressly  asserts  both  things 
to  be  necessary  to  compose  true  religion.  Where  two 
things  are  necessary,  one  cannot  excuse  the  want  of 
the  other.  Now,  what  does  the  text  teach?  it  teaches 
ns  what  pure  and  undefiled  religion  is  in  its  effects 


SERMON  XXI.  239 

and  in  its  practice:  and  what  is  it?  "to  visit  the 
fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world:"  not  simply  to 
visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction:  that 
is  not  all:  that  is  not  sufficient:  but  likewise  "  to  keep 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world." 

To  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction, 
is  describing  a  class,  or  species,  or  kind  of  virtue  by 
singling  out  one  eminent  example  of  it.  I  consider 
the  Apostle  as  meaning  to  represent  the  value,  and  to 
enforce  the  obligation  of  active  charity,  of  positive 
beneficence,  and  that  he  has  done  it  by  mentioning  a 
particular  instance.  A  stronger  or  properer  instance 
could  not  have  been  selected:  but  still  it  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  instance,  not  as  exclusive  of  other  and 
similar  instances,  but  as  a  specimen  of  these  exer- 
tions. The  case  before  us,  as  an  instance,  is  heightened 
by  every  circumstance,  which  could  give  to  it  weight 
and  priority.  The  apostle  exhibits  the  most  forlorn 
and  destitute  of  the  human  species,  suffering  under 
the  severest  of  human  losses:  helpless  children  de- 
prived of  a  parent:  a  wife  bereaved  of  her  husband, 
both  sunk  in  affliction,  under  the  sharpest  anguish  of 
their  misfortunes.  To  visit,  by  which  is  meant  to  con- 
sole, to  comfort,  to  succour,  to  relieve,  to  assist  such 
as  these,  is  undoubtedly  a  high  exercise  of  religion 
and  benevolence,  and  well  selected:  but  still  it  is  to 
be  regarded  as  an  example,  and  the  whole  class  of 
beneficent  virtues  is  intended  to  be  included.  This  is 
not  only  a  just  and  fair,  but  a  necessary  construction: 
because,  although  the  exercise  of  beneficence  be  a 


240  .    SERMON  XXI. 

duty  upon  every  man,  yet  the  kind,  the  examples  ol 
it  must  be  guided  in  a  great  degree  by  each  man's 
faculties,  opportunities,  and  by  the  occasions,  which 
present  themselves.  If  such  an  occasion,  as  that  which 
the  text  describes,  present  itself,  it  cannot  be  over- 
looked without  an  abandonment  of  religion:  but  if 
other  and  different  occasions  of  doing  good  present 
themselves,  they  also,  according  to  the  spirit  of  our 
apostle's  declaration,  must  be  attended  to,  or  we  are 
wanting  in  the  fruit  of  the  same  faith.  The  second 
principal  expression  of  the  text,  "  to  keep  himself 
unspotted  from  the  world,"  signifies  the  being  clean 
and  clear  from  the  licentious  practices,  to  which  the 
world  is  addicted.  So  that  "  pure  religion  and  unde- 
filed  before  God  and  the  Father,"  consists  in  two 
things;  beneficence  and  purity:  doing  good  and  keep- 
ing clear  from  sin ;  not  in  one  thing,  but  in  two  things; 
not  in  one  without  the  other,  but  in  both ;  and  this,  in 
my  opinion,  is  a  great  lesson  and  a  most  important 
doctrine. 

I  shall  not,  at  present,  consider  the  case  of  those, 
who  are  anxious,  and  effectually  so,  to  maintain  their 
personal  innocency  without  endeavouring  to  do  good 
to  others ;  because  I  really  believe  it  is  not  a  common 
case.  I  think  that  the  religious  principle,  which  is  able 
to  make  men  confine  their  passions  and  desires  within 
the  bounds  of  virtue,  with  very  few  exceptions,  strong 
enough  at  the  same  time  to  prompt  and  put  them  upon 
active  exertions. 


SKRMON  XXI.  241 

Therefore,  I  A\-ould  rather  apply  myself  to  that  part 
of  the  case,  which  is  more  common,  active  exertions 
of  benevolence,  accompanied  with  looseness  of  pri- 
vate morals.  It  is  a  very  common  character:  but  I 
say,  ill  the  first  place,  it  is  an  inconsistent  chaiacter: 
it  is  doing  and  undoing:  killing  and  curing:  doing 
good  by  our  charity,  and  mischief  by  our  licentious- 
ness: voluntarily  relieving  misery  with  one  hand,  and 
voluntarily  producing  and  spreading  it  with  the  other. 
No  real  advance  is  made  in  human  happiness  by  this 
contradiction;  no  real  betterness  or  improvement  pro- 
moted. 

But  then,  may  not  the  harm  a  man  does  by  his  per- 
sonal vices,  be  much  less  than  the  good  he  does  by  his 
active  virtues'?  This  is  a  point,  in  which  there  is  large 
room  for  delusion  and  mistake.  Positive  charity  and 
acts  of  humanity  are  often  of  a  conspicuous  nature, 
naturally  and  deservedly  engaging  the  praises  of  man- 
kind, which  are  followed  by  our  own.  No  one  does, 
no  one  ought  to  speak  against  them,  or  attempt  to 
disparage  them;  but  the  effect  office  and  licentious- 
ness, not  only  in  their  immediate  consequences,  but  in 
their  remote  and  ultimate  tendencies,  which  ought  all 
to  be  included  in  the  account,  the  mischief  which  is 
done  by  the  example,  as  well  as  by  the  act,  is  seldom 
honestly  computed  by  the  sinner  himself.  But  I  do 
not  dwell  further  upon  this  comparison,  because  I  in- 
sist, that  no  man  has  a  right  to  make  it;  no  man  has 
a  right,  whilst  he  is  doing  occasional  good,  and  yet 
indulging  his  vices  and  his  passions,  to  strike  a  ba- 

2H 


242  SERMON  XXI. 

lance,  as  it  were,  between  the  good  and  the  harm. 
This  is  not  christianit}-;  this  is  not  pure  and  iindefiled 
religion  before  God  and  the  Father,  let  the  balance  lie 
on  which  side  it  will;  for  our  text  declares,  (and  our 
text  declares  no  more  than  what  the  scriptures  testify 
from  one  end  to  the  other,)  that  religion  demands 
both.  It  demands  active  virtue,  and  it  demands  inno- 
cency  of  life.  I  mean  it  demands  sincere  and  vigorous 
endeavours  in  the  pursuit  of  active  virtue,  and  endea- 
vours equally  sincere  and  firm  in  the  preservation  of 
personal  innocence.  It  makes  no  calculation  which  is 
better,  but  it  requires  both. 

Shall  it  be  extraordinary,  that  there  should  be  men 
forward  in  active  charity  and  in  positive  beneficence, 
who  yet  put  little  or  no  constraint  upon  their  personal 
vices?  I  have  said  that  the  character  is  common,  and 
I  will  tell  you  why  it  is  common.  The  reason  is,  (and 
there  is  no  other  reason,)  that  it  is  usually  an  easier 
thing  to  perform  acts  of  beneficence,  even  of  expen- 
sive and  troublesome  beneficence,  than  it  is  to  com- 
mand and  control  our  passions;  to  give  up  and  dis- 
card our  vices;  to  burst  the  bonds  of  the  habits,  which 
enslave  us.  This  is  the  very  truth  of  the  case:  so  that 
the  matter  comes  precisely  to  this  point.  Men  of  ac- 
tive benevolence,  but  of  loose  morals,  are  men,  who 
are  for  performing  the  duties,  which  are  easy  to  them, 
and  omitting  those  which  are  hard.  They  only  place 
their  own  character  to  themselves  in  what  view  they 
please :  but  this  is  the  truth  of  the  case,  and  let  any 
one  say,  whether  this  be  religion;  whether  this  be  suf- 


SERMON  XXI.  245 

ficient.  The  truly  religious  man,  when  he  has  once 
decided  a  thing  to  be  a  duty,  has  no  furtlicr  question 
to  ask ;  whether  it  be  easy  to  be  done,  or  whether  it 
be  hard  to  be  done,  it  is  equally  a  duty;  it  then  be- 
comes a  question  of  fortitude,  of  resolution,  of  firm- 
ness, of  self-command,  and  self-government;  but  not 
of  duty  or  obligation;  these  are  already  decided  upon. 

But  least  of  all,  (and  this  is  the  inference  from  the 
text,  which  I  wish  most  to  press  upon  your  attention,) 
least  of  all  does  he  conceive  the  hope  of  reachhig  hea- 
ven by  that  sort  of  compromise,  which  would  make 
easy,  nay  perhaps,  pleasant  duties,  an  excuse  for  du- 
ties, which  are  irksome  and  severe.  To  recur,  for  the 
last  time,  to  the  instance  mentioned  in  our  text,  I  can 
very  well  believe,  that  a  man  of  humane  temper  shall 
have  pleasure  in  visiting,  when  by  visiting  he  can  suc- 
cour the  fatherless  and  the  widow  in  their  affliction:  but 
if  he  believes  St.  James,  he  will  find  that  this  must  be 
joined  to  and  accompanied  with  another  thing,  which 
is  neither  easy  nor  pleasant;  nay,  must  ahvays  almost 
be  effected  with  pain  and  struggle,  and  mortification 
and  difficulty,  the  "  keeping  himself  unspotted  from 
the  world." 


SERMON  XXII. 

THE  AGENCY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST  SINCE  HIS  ASCEN- 
SION. 

Hebrews,  xiii.  8. 

''^  Jesus  Christ  the  same  yesterday^  to-day^  and  Jor 
ever.'''' 

The  assertion  of  the  text  might  be  supported  by  the 
consideration,  that  the  mission  and  preaching  of 
Christ  have  lost  nothing  of  their  truth  and  importance 
by  the  lapse  of  ages,  which  has  taken  place  since  his 
appearance  in  the  world.  If  they  seem  of  less  magni- 
tude, reality,  and  concern  to  us  at  this  present  day, 
than  they  did  to  those  who  lived  in  the  days  in  which 
they  were  carried  on,  it  is  only  in  the  same  manner  as 
a  mountain  or  a  tower  appears  to  be  less,  when  seen  at 
a  distance.  It  is  a  delusion  in  both  cases.  In  natural 
objects  we  have  commonly  strength  enough  of  judg- 
ment to  prevent  our  being  imposed  upon  by  these 
false  appearances;  and  it  is  not  so  much  a  want  or  de- 
fect of,  as  it  is  a  neglecting  to  exert  and  use,  our  judg- 
ment, if  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  deceived  by  them  in 
religion. — Distance  of  space  in  one  case,  and  distance 
of  time  in  the  other,  make  no  difference  in  the  real  na- 


SERMON  XXII.  245 

tiirc  of  the  object;  and  it  is  a  great  weakness  to  allow 
them  to  make  any  difference  in  our  estimate  and  ap- 
prehension. The  death  of  Jesus  Christ  is,  in  truth,  as 
interesting  to  us,  as  it  was  to  those,  who  stood  by  his 
cross:  his  resurrection  from  the  grave  is  a  pledge  and 
assurance  of  owr  future  resurrection,  no  less  than  it  was 
of  theirs,  who  conversed,  who  eat  and  drank  with  him, 
after  his  return  to  life. 

But  there  is  another  sense,  in  which  it  is  still  more 
materially  true,  that  "  Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  forever.'*  He  is  personally  living,  and 
acting  in  the  same  manner;  has  been  so  all  along,  and 
will  be  so  to  the  end  of  the  world.  He  is  the  same  in 
his  person,  in  his  power,  in  his  office. 

First,  1  say,  that  he  is  the  same  individual  person, 
and  is  at  this  present  time  existing,  living,  acting.  He 
is  gone  up  on  high. — The  clouds  at  his  ascension  re- 
ceived him  out  of  human  sight.  But  whither  did  he  go? 
to  sit  for  ever  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  This  is  ex- 
pressly declared  concerning  him.  It  is  also  declared  of 
him,  that  death  hath  no  more  dominion  over  him,  that 
he  is  no  more  to  return  to  corruption.  So  that,  since 
his  ascension,  he  hath  continued  in  heaven  to  live  and 
act.  His  human  body,  we  are  likewise  given  to  believe, 
was  changed  upon  his  ascension,  that  is,  was  glorified, 
^vhereby  it  became  fitted  for  heaven,  and  fitted  for  im- 
mortality, no  longer  liable  to  decay  or  age,  but  thence 
forward  remaining  literally  and  strictly  the  same  yes- 
terday, to-day,  and  for  ever.  This  change  in  the  human 


246  SERMON  XXII. 

person  of  Christ  is  in  effect  asserted,  or  rather  is  referred 
to,  as  a  thing  already  known,  in  that  text  of  St.  Paul's 
epistle  to  the  Philippians,  wherein  we  are  assured,  that 
hereafter  Christ  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may 
be  like  his  glorious  body.  Now  the  natural  body  of 
Christ,  before  his  resurrection  at  least,  was  like  the 
natural  body  of  other  men,  was  not  a  glorious  body. 
At  this  time,  therefore,  when  St.  Paul  calls  it  his  glo- 
rious body,  (for  it  was  after  his  ascension  that  St.  Paul 
wrote  these  words,)  it  must  have  undergone  a  great 
change.  In  this  exalted  and  glorified  state  our  Lord 
was  seen  by  St.  Stephen,  in  the  moment  of  his  martyr- 
dom. Being  full,  you  read,  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  Stephen 
looked  up  steadfastly  unto  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory 
of  Goii,*  and  Jesus  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God. 
At  that  seemingly  dreadful  moment,  even  when  the 
martyr  was  surrounded  by  a  band  of  assassins,  with 
stones  ready  in  their  hands  to  stone  him  to  death,  the 
spectacle,  nevertheless,  filled  his  soul  with  rapture. 
He  cried  out  in  ecstasy,  "  Behold  I  see  the  heavens 
opened,  and  the  Son  of  Man  standing  on  the  right  hand 
of  God."  The  same  glorious  vision  was  vouchsafed 
to  St.  Paul,  at  his  conversion;  and  to  St.  John,  at  the 
delivery  of  the  revelations.  This  change  of  our  Lord's 
body  was  a  change,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  of  na- 
ture and  substance,  so  as  to  be  thenceforward  incapa- 
ble of  decay  or  dissolution.  It  might  be  susceptible  of 

*  The  "glory  of  God,"  in  sciiptuve,  when  spoken  of  as  an  ob- 
ject of  vision,  always,  I  think,  means  a  luminous  appearance, 
bright  and  refulgent,  beyond  the  splendour  of  any  natural  object 
whatever. 


SERMON  XXII.  247- 

any  external  form,  which  the  particular  purpose  of  his 
appearance  should  reciuire.  So  when  he  appeared  to 
Stephen  and  Paul,  or  to  any  of  his  saints,  it  was  ne- 
cessary he  should  assume  the  form,  which  he  had 
borne  in  the  flesh,  that  he  might  be  known  to  them. 
But  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  he  was  confined 
to  that  form.  The  contrary  rather  appears  in  the  reve- 
lation of  St.  John,  in  which,  after  once  showing  himself 
to  the  apostle,  our  Lord  was  afterwards  represented  to 
his  eyes  under  different  forms.  All,  however,  that  is  of 
importance  to  us  to  know,  all  that  belongs  to  our  pre- 
sent subject  to  observe,  is,  that  Christ's  glorified  per- 
son was  incapable  of  dying  any  more;  that  it  continues 
at  this  day;  that  it  hath  all  along  continued  the  same 
real,  identical  being,  as  that  which  went  up  into  heaveii 
in  the  sight  of  his  apostles;  the  same  essential  nature, 
the  same  glorified  substance,  the  same  proper  person. 

But,  secondly,  He  is  the  same  also  in  power.  The 
scripture  doctrine  concerning  our  Lord  seems  to  be 
this,  that,  when  his  appointed  commission  and  his  suf- 
ferings were  closed  upon  earth,  he  was  advanced  in 
heaven  to  a  still  higher  state,  than  what  he  possessed 
before  he  came  into  the  world.*  This  point,  as  well  as 
the  glory  of  his  nature,  both  before  and  after  his  ap- 
pearance in  the  flesh,  is  attested  by  St.  Paul,  in  the 
second  chapter  of  his  epistle  to  the  Philippians.  "  Be- 
ing in  the  form  of  God,  he  thought  it  not  robbery 
to  be  equal  with  God."  He  did  not  affect  to  be  equal 

*  See  Sherlock's  Sermons  on  Phil.  ii.  9. 


248  SERMON  XXII. 

with  God,  or  to  appear  with  divine  honours,  (for  such 
is  the  sense,  which  the  words  in  the  original  will  bear,) 
"  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon 
him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  like- 
ness of  man,  and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross."  "  Wherefore,"  i.  e.  for  this  his 
obedience  even  to  the  last  extremity,  even  unto  death, 
*'  God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him;"  or,  as  it  is,  dis- 
tinctly and  perspicuously  expressed  in  the  original, 
"  God  also  hath  7nore  highly  exalted  him,"  that  is  to  a 
higher  state  than  what  he  even  before  possessed;  inso- 
much that  he  hath  "  given  him  a  name  which  is  above 
every  name,"  that  at,  or,  more  properly  i?i  the  "  name 
of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven, 
and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth;  and 
that  every  tongue  should  confess,  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father;"  exactly  agree- 
able to  what  our  Lord  himself  declared  to  his  disciples 
after  his  resurrection, — "  All  power  is  given  unto  me 
in  heaven  and  in  earth."  (Matt,  xxviii.  18.)  You  will 
observe  in  this  passage  of  St.  Paul,  not  only  the  mag- 
nificent terms  in  which  Christ's  exaltation  is  described, 
viz.  "that  every  knee  should  thenceforward  bow  in 
his  name,  and  that  every  tongue  should  confess  him  to 
be  Lord;"  but  you  will  observe  also,  the  comprehen- 
sion and  extent  of  his  dominion, — "  of  things  in  hea- 
ven, of  things  on  earth,  of  things  under  the  earth." 
And  that  we  are  specifically  comprised  under  this  au- 
thority and  this  agency,  either  of  the  two  following 
texts  may  be  brought  as  a  sufficient  proof   "  Where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together,  there  am  I  in  tho. 


SERMON  XXII.  249 

midst  of  you,"  (Matt,  xviii.  20.)  which  words  of  our 
Lord  imply  a  knowledge  of,  an  observation  of,  an 
attention  to,  and  an  interference  with  what  passes 
amongst  his  disciples  upon  earth.  Or  take  his  final 
words  to.  his  followers,  as  recorded  by  St.  Matthew : 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  to  the  end  of  the  world," 
and  they  carry  the  same  imj)lication.  And,  lastly,  that 
in  the  most  awful  scene  and  event  of  our  existence, 
tlie  day  of  judgment,  we  shall  not  only  become  the 
objects,  but  the  immediate  objects  of  Christ's  power 
and  agency,  is  set  forth  in  two  clear  and  positive  texts. 
"  The  hour  is  coming,  and  now  is,  when  the  dead  shall 
licar  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,"  (John,  v.  25.)  not 
the  voice  of  God,  but  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God. 
And  then,  pursuing  the  description  of  what  will  after- 
wards take  place,  our  L.ord  adds  in  the  next  verse  but 
one; — "  that  the  Father  hath  given  him  authority  to 
execute  judgment  also,  because  he  is  the  Son  of  Man:" 
which  is  in  perfect  conformity  with  what  St.  Paul  an- 
nounced to  the  Athenians,  as  a  great  and  new^  doctrine, 
namely,  *'  that  God  hath  appointed  a  day,  in  which  he 
will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by  that  man, 
whom  he  hath  ordained,  whereof  he  hath  given  assu- 
rance unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the 
dead." 

Having  shown  that  the  power  of  Jesus  Christ  is  a 
subsisting  power  at  this  time,  the  next  question  is,  as 
to  its  duration.  Now%  so  far  as  it  respects  mankind  in 
this  present  world,  we  are  assured  that  it  shall  con- 
tinue until  the  end  of  the  world.   The  same  texts. 

21 


250  SERMON  XXII. 

which  have  been  adduced,  prove  this  point,  as  well  as 
that  for  which  they  were  quoted;  and  they  are  con- 
firmed by  St.  Paul's  declaration,  1  Cor.  xv.  24.  "Then 
cometh  the  end  when  he  shall  have  delivered  up  the 
Kingdom  to  God,  even  the  Father:"  therefore  he 
shall  retain  and  exercise  it  until  then.  But  farther,  this 
power  is  not  only  perpetual,  but  progressive,  advancing 
and  proceeding  by  different  steps  and  degrees,  until  it 
shall  become  supreme  and  complete,  and  shall  prevail 
against  every  enemy  and  every  opposition.  That  our 
Lord's  dominion  will  not  only  remain  unto  the  end  of 
the  world,  but  that  its  effects  in  the  world  will  be 
greatly  enlarged  and  increased,  is  signified  very  ex- 
pressly in  the  second  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews.    The    Apostle    in  this   passage  applies  to 
our  Lord  a  quotation  from  the  Psalms:   "  Thou  hast 
put  all  things  in   subjection   under  his  feet;"    and 
then  draws  from  it  a  strict  inference;  "  for  in  that  he 
put  all  things  in  subjection  vmder  him,  he  left  nothing 
that  he  did  not  put  under  him:"  and  then  he  remarks, 
as  a  fact,  "but  now  we  see  not  yet  all  things  put 
under  him."  That  complete  entire  subjection,  which 
is  here  promised,  hath  not  yet  taken  place.  The  pro- 
mise must,  therefore,  refer  to  a  still  future  order  of 
things.  This  doctrine  of  the  progressive  increase  and 
final  completeness,  of  our  Lord's   kingdom  is  also 
virtually  laid  down  in  the  passage  from  the  Corinthians 
already  cited:   "He  must  reign  till  he  hath  put  all 
enemies  under  his  feet;"  for  that  this  subjugation  of 
his   several   enemies   Avill  be   successive,   one   after 
another,  is  strongly  intimated  by  the  expression,  "  the 


SERMON  XXII.  251 

ktst  enemy  that  sliall  l)c  destroyed  is  death."  Now, 
to  apprehend  the  probability  of  those  thing's  coming 
to  ])ass,  or  rather  to  remove  any  opinion  of  their  im- 
probabihty,  we  ought  constantly  to  bear  in  our  mind 
this  momentous  truth,  that  in  the  hands  of  the  Deity 
time  is  nothing,  that  he  has  eternity  to  act  in.  The 
Christian  dispensation,  wwy  the  world  itself,  may  be 
in  its  infancy.  A  more  perfect  display  of  the  power 
of  Christ,  and  of  his  religion,  may  be  in  reserve;  and 
the  ages,  which  it  may  endure  after  the  obstacles  and 
impediments  to  its  reception  are  removed,  may  be, 
beyond  comparison,  longer  than  those  which  we  have 
seen,  in  which  it  has  been  struggling  with  great  diffi- 
culties, most  especially  with  ignorance  and  prejudice. 
We  ought  not  to  be  moved,  any  more  than  the  apos- 
tles were  moved,  with  the  reflection  which  was  cast 
upon  their  mission,  that  since  the  "fathers  fell  asleep, 
all  things  continue  as  they  were."  We  ought  to  re- 
turn the  answer  which  one  of  them  returned,  that 
what  we  call  tardiness  in  the  Deity,  is  not  so;  that, 
our  so  thinking  it  arises  from  not  allowing  for  the  dif- 
ferent importance,  nay,  probably,  for  the  different  ap- 
prehension of  time,  in  the  divine  mind  and  in  ours; 
that  with  him  a  thousand  years  are  as  one  day;  words 
which  confound  and  astonish  human  understanding, 
yet  strictly  and  metaphysically  true. 

Again,  we  should  remember,  that  the  Apostles;  the 
very  persons,  who  asserted  that  God  would  put  all 
things  under  him,  themselves,  as  we  have  seen,  ac- 
knowledged that  it  was  7iot  yet  done.  In  the  mean 


252  SERMON  XXII. 

time,  from  the  whole  of  their  declarations  and  of  this 
discussion  we  collect,  that  Jesus  Christ,  ascended  into 
the  heavens,  is,  at  this  day,  a  great  efficient  Being  in 
in  the  universe,  invested  by  his  Father  with  a  high 
authority,  which  he  exercises,  and  will  continue  to 
exercise,  until  the  end  of  the  world. 

Thirdly,  he  is  the  same  in  his  office.  The  principal 
offices,  assigned  by  the  scriptures  to  our  Lord  in  his 
glorified  state,  that  is,  since  his  ascension  into  heaven, 
are  those  of  a  Mediator  and  Intercessor,  Of  the  me- 
diation of  our  Lord  the  scripture  speaks  in  this  wise: 
^'  There  is  one  God,  and  one  Mediator  between  God 
and  men,  the  man  Christ  Jesus."  1  Tim.  ii.  5.  It  was 
after  our  Lord's  ascension  that  this  was  spoken  of 
him;  and  is  plain,  from  the  form  and  turn  of  the  ex- 
pression, that  his  mediatorial  character  and  office  was 
meant  to  be  represented  as  a  perpetual  character  and 
office,  because  it  is  described  in  conjunction  with  the 
existence  of  God  and  men,  so  long  as  men  exist; 
"  there  is  one  Mediator  between  God  and  men,  the 
man  Jesus  Christ."  "  Hitherto  ye  have  asked  nothing 
in  my  name."  "At  that  day  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name." 
(John,  xvi.  24 — 26.)  These  words  form  part  of  our 
Lord's  memorable  conversation  with  his  select  dis- 
ciples, not  many  hours  before  his  death;  and  clearly 
intimate  the  mediatorial  office,  which  he  was  to  dis- 
charge after  his  ascension. 

Concerning  his  intercessmi^  not  that  which  he  oc- 
casionally exercised  upon  earth,  when  lie  prayed,  as 


SERMON  XXII.  253 

he  did  most  fervently  for  his  disciples,  but  that  which 
he  now,  at  this  present  time,  exercises,  we  have  the 
following  text,  explicit,  satisfactory,  and  full.  "  But 
this  man,  because  he  continueth  ever,  hath  an  un- 
changeable priesthood:"  by  priesthood  is  here  meant 
the  office  of  praying  for  others.  "  Wherefore  he  is 
able  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost,  that  come  unto 
God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make  interces- 
sion for  us."  No  words  can  more  plainly  declare,  than 
these  words  do,  the  perpetuity  of  our  Lord's  agency : 
that  it  did  not  cease  with  his  presence  upon  earth,  but 
continues.  "He  continueth  ever:  he  ever  liveth;  he 
hath  an  unchangeable  priesthood."  Surely  this  justi- 
fies what  our  text  saith  of  him ;  "  that  he  is  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;"  and  that  not  in  a 
figurative  or  metaphorical  sense,  but  literally,  effec- 
tually, and  really.  Moreover,  in  this  same  passage, 
not  only  the  constancy  and  perpetuity,  but  the  power 
and  efficacy  of  our  Lord's  intercession  are  asserted. 
"  He  is  able  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost,  that  come 
unto  God  by  him."  They  must  come  unto  God:  they 
must  come  by  him:  and  then  he  is  able  to  sa^•e  them 
completely. 

These  three  heads  of  observation,  namely,  upon  his 
person,  his  power,  and  his  office,  comprise  the  rela- 
tion, in  which  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  stands  to  us. 
whilst  we  remain  in  this  mortal  life.  There  is  another 
consideration  of  great  solemnity  and  interest,  namely, 
the  relation  which  we  shall  bear  to  him  in  our  future 
state.  Now  the  economy,  whicli  appears  to  be  des- 


254  SERMON  XXII. 

tineci  for  the  human  creation,  I  mean,  for  that  part  ol* 
it  which  shall  be  received  to  future  happiness,  is,  that 
they  shall  live  in  a  state  of  local  society  with  one 
another,  and  under  Jesus  Christ  as  their  head,  expe- 
riencing a  sensible  connexion  amongst  themselves,  as 
well  as  the  operation  of  his  authority,  as  their  Lord 
and  Governor.  I  think  it  likely  that  our  Saviour  had 
this  state  of  things  in  view,  when,  in  his  final  discourse 
with  his  apostles,  he  tells  them,  "I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for 
you,  I  will  come  again,  and  receive  you  unto  myself; 
that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also.''  (John,  xiv. 
2,  3.)  And  again,  in  the  same  discourse,  and  referring 
to  the  same  economy,  "Father,"  says  he,  "I  will  that 
they  also,  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me 
where  I  am ;  that  they  may  behold  my  glory,  which 
thou  hast  given  me:"  for  that  this  was  spoken,  not 
merely  of  the  twelve,  who  were  then  sitting  with 
Jesus,  and  to  whom  his  discourse  was  addressed,  but 
of  his  disciples  in  future  ages  of  the  world,  is  fairly 
collected  from  his  words,  (xvii.  20.)  "Neither  pray  I 
for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also  which  shall  believe 
on  me,  through  their  word." — Since  the  prayer  here 
stated  was  part  of  the  discourse,  it  is  reasonable  to 
infer  that  the  discourse,  in  its  object,  extended  as  far 
as  the  prayer,  which  v^'e  have  seen  to  include  be- 
lievers, as  McU  of  succeeding  ages,  as  of  that  then 
present. 

Now  concerning  this  future  dispensation,  supposing 
>t  to  consist,  as  here  represented,  of  accepted  spirits, 


SERMON  XXII.  255 

participating  of  happiness  in  a  state  of  sensible  society 
with  one  another,  and  with  Jesus  Christ  himself  at 
their  head,  one  train   of  reflection    naturally  arises, 
namely,  first,  that  it  is  highl)   probable  there  should 
be  many  expressions  of  scripture  which  have  relation 
to  it;  secondl}',  that  such  expressions  must,  by  their 
nature,  appear  to  us,  at  present,  under  a  considerable 
degree  of  obscurity,  which  we  may  be  apt  to  call  a 
defect;  thirdly,  that  the  credit  due  to  such  expressions 
must  depend  upon  their  authority  as  portions  of  the 
written  word  of  God,  and  not  upon  the  probability, 
much  less  upon  the  clearness,  of  what  they  contain; 
so  that  our  comprehension  of  what  they  mean  must 
stop  at  very  general  notions;  and  our  belief  in  them 
rest  in  the  deference  to  which  they  are  entitled,  as 
scripture  declarations.   Of  this  kind  are  man}-,  if  not 
all,  of  those  expressions,  which  speak  so  strongly  of 
the  value  and  benefit  and  efficacy   of  the  death   of 
Christ;  of  its  sacrificial,  expiatory,  and  atoning  nature. 
We  may    be   assured,  that  these  expressions  mean 
something  real;  refer  to  something  real;  though  it  be 
something,  which  is  to  take  place  in  that  future  dis- 
pensation, of  which  we  have  been  speaking.  It  is  rea- 
sonable to  expect,  that,  when  we  come  to  experience 
what  that  state  is,  the  same  experience  will  open  to 
us  the  distinct  propriety  of  these  expressions,  their 
truth,  and  the  substantial  truth  which  they  contain; 
and  like\vise  show  us,  that,  however  strong  and  exal- 
ted the  terms  are,  which  av  e  see  made  use  of,  the}  arc 
not  stronger,  nor  higher  than  the  subject  called  for. 
But  for  the  present  we  must  be,  what  1  own  it  is  diffi- 


■^56  SERMON  XXII. 

cult  to  be,  content  to  take  up  with  very  general  no- 
tions, humbly  hoping,  that  a  disposition  to  receive  and 
to  acquiesce  in  what  appears  to  us  to  be  revealed,  be 
it  more,  or  be  it  less,  will  be  res^arded  as  the  duty 
which  belongs  to  our  subsisting  condition,  and  the 
measure  of  information,  with  which  it  is  favoured: 
and  will  stand  in  the  place  of  wliat,  from  our  deep  in- 
terest in  the  mutter,  we  are  sometimes  tempted  to 
desire,  but  M^iich,  nevertheless,  might  be  unfit  for  us, 
a  knowledge,  which  not  only  was  but  Mdiich  we  per- 
ceived to  be,  fully  adequate  to  the  subject. 

There  is  another  class  of  expressions,  which,  since 
they  professedly  refer  to  circumstances  that  are  to  take 
place  in  this  new  state,  and  not  before,  will,  it  is  likely, 
be  rendered  quite  intelligible  by  our  experience  in 
that  state ;  but  must  necessarily  convey  very  imperfect 
information  until  they  be  so  explained.  Of  this  kind 
are  many  of  the  passages  of  scripture,  which  we  have 
already  noticed,  as  referring  to  the  changes,  which 
•will  be  wrought  in  our  mortal  nature,  and  the  agency 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  intervention  of  his 
power,  in  producing  those  changes,  and  the  nearer 
similitude  which  our  changed  natures  and  the  bodies, 
with  which  we  shall  then  be  clothed,  will  bear  to  his. 
We  read  "  that  he  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it 
may  be  like  his  glorious  body."  A  momentous  assur- 
ance, no  doubt :  yet  in  its  particular  signification,  wait- 
ing to  be  cleared  up  by  our  experience  of  the  event. 
So  likewise  are  some  other  particular  expressions  re- 
lating to  the  same  event,  such  as  being  "  unclothed," 


SERMON  XXII.  257 

"  clothed  upon,"  ''  the  dead  in  Christ  rising  first;" 
'*  meeting  the  Lord  in  the  air;"  "  they  tliat  are  alive 
not  preventing  those  that  are  asleep,"  and  the  like. 
These  are  all  most  interesting  intimations;  yet  to  a 
certain  degree  obscure.  They  answer  the  purpose  of 
of  ministering  to  our  hopes  and  comfort  and  admoni- 
tion, which  they  do  without  conveying  any  clear  ideas: 
and  this,  and  not  the  satisfaction  of  our  curiosity,  ma) 
be  the  grand  purpose,  for  the  sake  of  which  intima- 
tions of  these  things  were  given  at  all.  But  then,  in 
so  far  as  they  describe  a  change  in  the  order  of  nature, 
of  which  change  we  are  to  be  the  objects,  it  seems  to 
follow,  that  we  shall  be  furnished  with  experience 
which  will  discover  to  us  the  full  sense  of  this  lan- 
guage. The  same  remark  may  be  repeated  concerning 
the  first  and  second  death,  which  are  expressly  spoken 
of  in  the  Revelations,  and,  as  I  think,  alluded  to  and 
supposed  in  other  passages  of  scripture  in  which  thev 
are  not  named. 

The  lesson^  inculcated  by  the  observation  here  poin- 
ted out,  is  this,  that,  in  the  difficulties  which  we  meet 
with  in  interpreting  scripture,  instead  of  being  too 
vmeasy  under  them,  by  reason  of  the  obscurity  of  cer- 
tain passages,  or  the  degree  of  darkness,  which  hangs 
over  certain  subjects,  we  ought  first  to  take  to  our- 
selves this  safe  and  consoling  rule,  namely,  to  make 
up  for  the  deficiency  of  our  knowledge  by  the  sincerity 
of  our  practice;  in  other  words,  to  act  up  to  what  we 
do  know,  or  at  least,  earnestly  to  strive  so  to  do.  So  far 
as  a  man  holds  fast  to  this  rule,  he  has  a  strong  ground 

2K 


i'58  SERMON  XXir. 

of  comfort  under  every  degree  of  ignorance,  or  even 
of  errors.  And  it  is  a  rule  applicable  to  the  rich  and 
to  the  poor,  to  the  educated  and  the  uneducated,  to 
every  state  and  station  of  life ;  and  to  all  the  differences, 
which  arise  from  different  opportunities  of  acquiring 
knowledge.  Different  obligations  may  result  from  dif- 
ferent means  of  obtaining  information ;  but  this  rule 
comprises  all  differences. 

The  next  reflection  is,  that  m  meeting  with  difficul- 
ties, nay  very  great  difficulties,  wq  meet  with  nothing 
strange,  nothing  but  what,  in  truth,  might  reasonably 
have  been  expected  before  hand.  It  was  to  be  expec- 
ted, that  a  revelation,  which  was  to  have  its  completion 
in  another  state  of  existence,  would  contain  many  ex- 
pressions, which  referred  to  that  state;  and  which,  on 
account  of  such  reference,  would  be  made  clear  and 
perfectly  intelligible  only  to  those,  who  had  experi- 
ence of  that  state,  and  to  us  after  we  had  attained  to 
that  experience;  whilst,  however,  in  the  meantime, 
they  may  convey  to  us  enough  of  information,  to  ad- 
monish us  in  our  conduct,  to  support  our  hopes,  and 
to  incite  our  endeavours.  Therefore  the  meeting  with 
difficulties,  owing  to  this  cause,  ought  not  to  surprise 
us,  nor  to  tiouble  us  overmuch.  Seriousness,  nay 
even  anxiety,  touching  every  thing,  which  concerns 
our  salvation,  no  thoughtful  man  can  help;  but  it  is 
possible  we  may  be  distressed  by  doubts  and  difficul- 
ties more  than  there  is  i\ny  occasion  to  be  distressed. 

Lastly,  under  all  our  perplexities,  under  all  the  mis- 


SERMON  XXll.  259 

givings  of  mind,  to  which  even  good  men  (such  is  the 
infirmity  of  human  nature)  are  subject,  there  is  this 
important  assurance  to  resort  to,  that  we  have  a  pro- 
tection over  our  heads,  which  is  constant  and  abiding; 
that  God,  blessed  be  his  name,  is  for  evermore;  that 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever;  that,  like  as  a  traveller  by  land  or  sea, 
go  where  he  will,  always  sees,  when  he  looks  up,  the 
same  sun;  so  in  our  journey  through  a  varied  exis- 
tence, whether  it  be  in  our  present  state,  or  hi  our 
next  state,  or  in  the  awful  passage  from  one  to  the 
other;  in  the  world  in  which  we  live,  or  in  the  country 
which  we  seek ;  in  the  hour  of  death,  no  less  than  in 
the  midst  of  health,  we  are  in  the  same  \ipholding 
hands,  under  the  same  sufficient  and  unfailing  support^ 


SERMON  XXJll. 

OF  SPIRITUAL  INFLUENCE  IN  GENERAL 
IN  THREE  PARTS. 

(PART  I.) 

1  CoRIJ^'THIANS,  iii.  16. 

'■''Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God ^  and  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  youV 

There  are  ways  of  considering  the  subject  of  spi- 
ritual influence,  as  well  as  a  want  of  considering  itv 
which  lay  it  open  to  difficulties  and  misconceptions. 
But  if  the  being  liable  to  misapprehension  and  to  mis- 
representation be  thought  an  objection  to  any  doctrine, 
I  know  of  no  doctrine,  which  is  not  liable  to  the  same, 
nor  any  which  has  not,  in  fact,  been  loaded  at  various 
times  with  great  mistakes. 

One  difficulty,  which  has  struck  the  minds  of  some, 
is,  that  the  doctrine  of  an  influencing  spirit,  and  of  the 
importance  of  this  influence  to  human  salvation,  is  an 
arbitrary  systenij  making  every  thing  to  depend,  not 


SERMON  XXIII.  J261 

upon  ourselves,  nor  upon  any  exertion  of  our  own,  but 
upon  the  gift  of  the  Spirit.  It  is  not  for  us,  we  allow, 
to  canvass  the  gifts  of  God;  because  we  do  not,  and 
it  seems  imposible  that  wc  should,  sufficiently  under- 
stand the  motive  of  the  Giver.  In  more  ordinary  cases, 
and  in  cases  more  level  to  our  comprehension,  we 
seem  to  acknowledge  the  diiference  between  a  debt 
and  a  gift,  A  debt  is  bound,  as  it  were,  by  known 
rules  of  justice:  a  gift  depends  upon  the  motive  of 
the  giver,  which  often  can  be  known  only  to  himself. 
To  judge  of  the  propriety  either  of  granting  or  with- 
holding that  to  which  there  is  no  claim,  which  is,  in 
the  strictest  sense,  a  favour,  which,  as  such,  rests  with 
the  donor  to  bestow  as  to  him  seemeth  good,  we  must 
have  the  several  motives,  which  presented  themselves 
to  the  mind  of  the  donor,  before  us.  This,  with  respect 
to  the  divine  Being,  is  impossible.  Therefore,  we  allow 
that,  either  in  this,  or  in  any  other  matter,  to  canvass 
the  gifts  of  God  is  a  presumption  not  fit  to  be  indulged. 
We  are  to  receive  our  portion  of  them  with  thankful- 
ness. We  are  to  be  thankful,  for  instance,  for  the  share 
of  health  and  strength  which  is  given  us,  without  in- 
quiring why  others  are  healthier  and  stronger  than 
ourselves.  This  is  the  right  disposition  of  mind,  with 
respect  to  all  the  benefactions  of  God  Almighty  to- 
wards us. 

But  unsearchable  does  not  mean  arbitrary.  Our  ne- 
cessary ignorance  of  the  motives,  which  rest  and  dwell 
in  the  divine  mind  in  the  bestow^ing  of  his  grace,  is 
no  proof  that  it  is  not  bestowed  by  the  justest  reason. 


262  SERMON  XXIII. 

And  with  regard  to  the  case  at  present  before  us,  viz. 
the  gifts  and  graces  of  the  Spirit,  the  charge  against 
it  of  its  being  an  arbitrary  system,  or,  in  other  words, 
independent  of  our  own  endeavours,  is  not  founded 
in  any  doctrine  or  declaration  of  scripture.  It  is  not 
arbitrary  in  its  origin,  in  its  degree,  or  in  its  final 
success. 

First,  it  is  not  arbitrary  in  its  origin;  for  you  read 
that  it  is  given  to  prayer.  "  If  ye,  being  evil,  know 
how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  much  more 
shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  holy  Spirit  to 
them  that  ask  it;"  but  whether  we  will  ask  it  or 
not,  depends  upon  ourselves.  It  is  proposed,  you  find, 
as  a  subject  for  our  prayers;  for  prayer,  not  formal, 
cold,  heartless,  transitory,  but  prayer  from  the  soul, 
prayer  earnest  and  persevering;  for  this  last  alone  is 
what  the  scripture  means  by  prayer.  In  this,  therefore, 
it  cannot  be  said  to  be  arbitrary,  or  independent  of  our 
endeavours^  On  the  contrary,  the  scripture  exhorts  us 
to  a  striving  in  prayer  for  this  best  of  all  gifts. 

But  it  will  be  asked,  is  not  the  very  first  touch  of 
true  religion  upon  the  soul,  sometimes  at  least,  itself 
the  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit?  This,  therefore,  must 
be  prior  to  our  praying  for  it.  And  so  it  may  be,  and 
not  yet  be  arbitrarily  given.  The  religious  state  of 
the  human  soul  is  exceedingly  various.  Amongst 
others  there  is  a  state,  in  which  there  may  be  good 
latent  dispositions,  suitable  faculties  for  religion;  yet 
no  religion.  In  such  a  state  the  spark  alone  is  wanting. 


SERMON  XXIII.  263 

To  such  a  state  the  elementary  principle  of  religion 
may  be  communicated,  though  not  prayed  for.  Nor 
can  this  be  said  to  be  arbitrary.  The  Spirit  of  God  is 
given  where  it  was  wanted;  where,  when  given,  it 
would  produce  its  effect;  but  that  state  of  heart  and 
mind,  upon  which  the  effect  was  to  be  produced,  might 
still  be  the  result  of  moral  qualification,  improvement, 
and  voluntary  endeavour.  It  is  not,  I  think,  difficult  to 
conceive  such  a  case  as  this. 

Nevertheless  it  may  be  more  ordinarilj'  true,  that 
the  gift  of  the  Spirit  is  holden  out  to  the  struggling, 
the  endeavouring,  the  approaching  christian.  When 
the  penitent  prodigal  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his 
Father  saw  him.  This  parable  was  delivered  by  oui 
Lord  expressly  to  typify  God's  dealing  with  such  sin- 
ners as  are  touched  with  a  sense  of  their  condition. 
And  this  is  one  circumstance  in  it  to  be  particularly 
noticed.  God  sees  the  returning  mind;  sees  every 
step  and  every  advance  towards  him,  "  though  we  be 
yet  a  great  way  off;"  yet  at  a  great  distance;  though 
much  remains  to  be  done  and  to  be  attained,  and  to 
be  accomplished.  And  what  he  sees,  he  helps.  His 
aid  and  influence  are  assisting  to  the  willing  christian, 
truly  and  sincerely  willing,  though  yet  in  a  low  and 
imperfect  state  of  proficiency;  nay,  though  in  the  out- 
set, as  it  were,  of  his  religious  progress.  "  The  Lord 
is  nigh  unto  them,  that  are  of  a  contrite  heart," 
(Psalm  xxxiv.  19.)  But  in  all  this  there  is  nothing 
arbitrary. 


2(34  SERMON  XXIII. 

Nor,  secondly,  is  the  operation  of  the  Spirit  arbitra- 
ry in  its  degree.  It  has  a  rule,  and  its  rule  is  this. 
"  Whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall 
have  more  abundance ;  and  whosoever  hath  not,  from 
him  shall  be  taken  awaV  even  that  which  he  hath." 
Now  of  this  rule,  which  is  expressed  under  some,  but 
under  no  great  difference  of  phrase,  in  all  the  three  first 
gospels,  I  have  first  to  observe,  that,  though  it  carry 
the  appearance  of  harshness  and  injustice,  it  is  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other,  but  is  correctly  and  fundament- 
ally just.  The  meaning  is,  that  whosoever  uses,  exer 
cises,  and  improves  the  gifts,  which  he  has  received, 
shall  continue  to  receive  still  larger  portions  of  these 
gifts;  nay,  he  who  has  already  received  the  largest  por- 
tion, provided  he  adequately  and  proportionably  uses 
his  gifts,  shall  also  in  future  receive  the  largest  portion. 
More  und  more  will  be  added  to  him,  that  has  the 
most:  whilst  he,  who  neglects  the  little  which  he  has, 
shall  be  deprived  even  of  that.  That  this  is  the  sound 
exposition  of  these  texts  is  proved  from  hence,  that 
one  of  them  is  used  as  the  application  of  the  parable 
of  the  talents,  concerning  the  meaning  of  which  para- 
ble there  can  be  no  doubt  at  all ;  for  there  he,  who  had 
received,  and  having  received,  had  duly  improved,  ten 
talents,  was  placed  over  ten  cities;  and  of  him  the  ex- 
pression in  question  is  used,  "  whosoever  hath,  to  him 
shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance." 
On  the  contrary,  he,  who  had  received  one  talent,  and 
had  neglected  what  he  had  received,  had  it  taken  from 
him:  and  of  him  the  other  part  of  the  expression  is 
used:  "  whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken 


SERMON  XXIII.  265 

away  even  that  which  he  hath."  But  there  is  a  point 
still  remaining,  viz.  whether  this  scripture  rule  be 
applicable  to  spiritual  gifts.  I  answer,  that  it  is  so  ap- 
plied, more  especially  to  spiritual  knowledge,  and  the 
use  which  we  make  thereof.  "  Take  heed  how  ye  hear; 
unto  you  that  hear  shall  more  be  given  i  for  he  that 
hath,  to  him  shall  be  given,  and  he  that  hath  not,  from 
him  shall  be  taken  even  that  which  he  hath."  So  stands 
the  passage  in  Mark,  and  substantially  the  same,  that 
is,  with  a  view  to  the  same  application,  the  passage 
stands  in  Matthew  and  Luke.  I  consider  it,  therefore, 
to  be  distinctly  asserted,  that  this  is  the  rule  with  re- 
gard to  spiritual  knowledge.  And  I  think  the  analogy 
conclusive  with  regard  to  other  spiritual  gifts.  In  alt 
which  there  is  nothing  arbitrary. 

Nor,  thirdly,  is   it   arbitrary  in   its  final   success. 
"  Grieve  not  the  Spirit  of  God:"  therefore  he  may  be 
grieved.  ^'  And  hath  done  despite  unto  the  Spirit  of 
Grace."  (Heb.  x.  29.)  therefore  he  may  be  despised. 
Both  these  are  leading  texts  upon  the  subject.  And  so 
is  the  following — "  And  his  grace,  which  was  bestow- 
ed upon  me,  was  not  in  vain:"  (1  Cor.  xv.  10.)  there- 
fore it  might  have  been  in  vain.  The  influence,  there- 
fore, of  the  Spirit  may  not  prevail,  even  as  the  admo- 
nitions of  a  friend,  the  warnings  of  a  parent,  may  not 
prevail,  may  not  be  successful,  may  not  be  attended 
to,  may  be  rejected,  may  be  resisted,  may  be  despised, 
may  be  lost;  so  that  both  in  itsg  ift,  in  its  degree,  ope- 
ration, and  progress,  and  above  all,  in  its  final  effect, 
it  is  connected  with  our  own  endeavours,  it  is  not  ar- 

2L 


<2e6  SERMON  XXIlI. 

bitrar}'.  Throughout  the  whole,  it  does  not  supersede, 
but  cooperates  with  ourselves. 

But  another  objection  is  advanced,  and  fnoni  an  op- 
posite quarter.  It  is  said,  that  if  the  influence  of  the 
Spirit  depend,  after  all,  upon  our. endeavours,  the  doc- 
trine is  nugatory;  it  comes  to  the  same  thing,  as  if 
salvation  was  put  upon  ourselves  and  our  own  endea- 
vours alone,  exclusive  of  every  further  consideration, 
and  without  referring  us  to  any  influence  or  assistance 
whatever.  I  answer,  that  this  is  by  no  means  true: 
that  it  is  not  the  same  thing  either  in  reality,  or  in  opi- 
nion, or  in  the  consequences  of  that  opinic«i. 

Assuredly  it  is  not  the  same  thing  in  reality. '  Is  it 
the  same  thing,  whether  we  perform  a  work  by  our 
own  strength,  or  by  obtaining  the  assistance  and  co- 
operation of  another?  or  does  it  make  it  the  same 
thing,  that  this  assistance  is  to  be  obtained  by  means 
which  it  is  in  our  own  choice  to  use  or  not?  or  be- 
cause, when  the  assistance  is  obtained,  we  may,  or 
may  not  avail  ourselves  of  it ;  or  because  we  may  by 
neglecting,  lose  it?  After  all,  they  are  two  different 
things,  performing  a  work  by  ourselves,  and  perform- 
ing it  by  means  of  help. 

Again;  It  is  not  the  same  thing  in  the  opinions  and 
sentiments,  and  dispositions  which  accompany  it.  A 
person,  who  knows  or  believes  himself  to  be  beholden 
to  another  for  the  progress  and  success  of  an  under- 
taking, though  still  carried  on  by  his  own  endeavours, 


SERMON  XXllI  26V 

ackn6\vieclges  his  friend  and  his  benefactor;  feels  his 
dependency  and  his  obligation;  turns  to  him  for  help 
and  aid  in  his  difficulties;  is  humble  under  the  want 
and  need,  which  he  finds  he  has,  of  assistance;  and 
above  all  things,  is  solicitous  not  to  lose  the  benefit  of 
that  assistance.  This  is  a  different  turn  of  mind,  and  u 
different  way  of  thinking,  from  his,  who  is  sensible 
of  no  such  want,  who  relics  entirely  upon  his  own 
strength;  who,  of  course,  can  hardly  avoid  being 
proud  of  his  success,  or  feeling  the  confidence,  the 
presumption,  the  self- commendation,  and  the  preten- 
sions, which,  however  they  might  suit  with  a  being, 
who  achieves  his  work  by  his  own  powers,  by  no 
means,  and  in  no  wise,  suit  with  a  frail  constitution, 
which  must  ask  and  obtain  the  friendly  aid  and  help 
of  a  kind  and  gracious  benefactor,  before  he  can  pro- 
ceed in  the  business  set  out  for  him,  and  which  it  is 
of  unspeakable  consequence  to  him  to  execute  some 
how  or  other. 

It  is  thus  in  religion.  A  sense  of  spiritual  weakness 
and  of  spiritual  wants,  a  belief  that  divine  aid  and  help 
are  to  be  had,  are  principles  which  carry  the  soul  to 
God;  make  us  think  of  him,  and  think  of  him  in 
earnest;  convert,  in  a  word,  morality  into  religion; 
bring  us  round  to  holiness  of  life,  by  the  road  of  piety 
and  devotion;  render  us  humble  in  ourselves,  and 
grateful  towards  God.  There  are  two  dispositions, 
which  compose  the  true  christian  character;  humilit)= 
as  to  ourselves;  affection  and  gratitude  as  to  God; 
and  both  these  are  natural  fruits  and  effects  of  thd  per- 


268  SERMON  XXtlf. 

suasion  we  speak  of:  and  what  is  of  the  most  im- 
portance of  all,  this  persuasion  will  be  accompanied 
with  a  corresponding  fear,  lest  we  should  neglect,  and 
by  neglecting,  lose  this  invaluable  assistance.  On  the 
on£  hand,  therefore,  it  is  not  true,  that  the  doctrine  of 
an  influencing  Spirit  is  an  arbitrary  system,  setting 
aside  our  own  endeavours. — Nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  it  true,  that  the  connecting  it  with  our  own  endea- 
vours, as  obtained  through  them,  as  assisting  them, 
as  cooperating  with  them,  renders  the  doctrine  unim- 
portant, or  all  one  as  putting  the  whole  upon  our  en- 
deavours without  any  such  doctrine.  If  it  be  true,  in 
fact,  that  the  feebleness  of  our  nature  requires  the  suc- 
couring influence  of  God's  Spirit  in  carrying  on  the 
grand  business  of  salvation,  and  in  every  state  and 
stage  of  its  progress,  in  conversion,  in  regeneration,  in 
constancy,  in  perseverance,  in  sanctification ;  it  is  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  this  truth  be  declared,  and 
understood,  and  confessed,  and  felt;  because  the  per- 
ception and  sincere  acknowledgment  of  it  will  be  ac- 
companied by  a  train  of  sentiments,  by  a  turn  of 
thought,  by  a  degree  and  species  of  devotion,  by  hu- 
mility, by  prayer,  by  piety,  by  a  recourse  to  God  in 
our  religious  warfare,  different  from  what  will,  or, 
perhaps,  can  be  found  in  a  mind  unacquainted  with  this 
doctrine,  or  in  a  mind  rejecting  it,  or  in  a  mind  uncon-' 
cemed  about  these  things  one  way  or  other. 


SERMON  XXIV. 

ON  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 

(PART  II.) 

I  Corinthians,  iii.  16. 

'■'■Know  ye  ?iot  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God ^  and  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you?'''' 

It  is  undoubtedly  a  difficulty  in  the  doctrine  of  spi- 
ritual influence,  that  we  do  not  so  perceive  the  action 
of  the  Spirit,  as  to  distinguish  it  from  the  suggestions 
of  our  own  minds.  Many  good  men  acknowledge,  that 
they  are  not  conscious  of  any  such  immediate  percep- 
tions. They,  who  lay  claim  to  them,  cannot  advance, 
like  the  Apostles,  such  proofs  of  their  claim,  as  must 
necessarily  satisfy  others,  or  perhaps,  secure  themselves 
from  delusion.  And  this  is  made  a  ground  of  objection 
to  the  doctrine  itself.  Now,  I  think,  the  objection  pro- 
ceeds upon  an  erroneous  principle,  namely,  our  ex- 
pecting more  than  is  promised.  The  agency  and  influ- 
ence of  the  divine  Spirit  are  spoken  of  in  scripture, 
and  are  promised :  but  it  is  no  where  promised,  that 


270  SERMON  XXIV. 

its  operations  shall  be  always  sensible^  viz.  distinguish- 
able at  the  time  from  the  impulses,  dictates,  and 
thoughts  of  our  own  minds.  I  do  not  take  upon  me 
to  say,  that  they  are  never  so:  I  only  say,  that  it  is  not 
necessary,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  they  should  be 
so ;  nor  is  it  asserted  in  the  scripture  that  they  are  so ; 
nor  is  it  pr(imised  that  they  will  be  so. 

The  nature  of  the  thing  does  not  imply  or  require 
it:  by  which  I  mean,  that,  according  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  human  mind,  as  far  as  we  are  acquainted 
with  that  constitution,  a  foreign  influence  or  impulse 
may  act  upon  it,  without  being  distinguislied  in  our 
perception  from  its  natural  operations,  that  is,  without 
being  perceived  at  the  time.  The  case  appears  to  me 
to  be  this.  The  order,  in  which  ideas  and  motives  rise 
up  in  our  minds,  is  utterly  unknown  to  us,  conse- 
quently it  will  be  unknown  when  that  order  is  dis- 
turbed, or  altered,  or  aflfected:  therefore  it  may  be 
altered,  it  may  be  aflfected  by  the  interposition  of  a  fo- 
reign influence,  without  that  interposition  being  per- 
ceived. Again,  and  in  like  manner,  not  only  the  order ^ 
in  which  thoughts  and  motives  rise  up  in  our  minds, 
is  unknown  to  ourselves  but  the  causes  also  are  un- 
known, and  are  incalculable,  upon  which  the  vividness 
of  the  ideas,  tlie  force  and  strength  and  impression  of 
the  motives,  which  enter  into  our  minds,  depend. 
Therefore  that  vividness  may  be  made  more  or  less, 
that  force  may  be  increased  or  diminished,  and  both 
by  the  influence  of  a  spiritual  agent,  without  any  dis- 
tinct sensation  of  such  agency  being  felt  at  the  time. 


SERMON  XXIV.  271 

WsLS  the  case  otherwise,  was  the  order,  according  to 
which  thoughts  and  motives  rise  up  in  our  minds,  fixed, 
and  being  fixed,  known;  then  I  do  admit,  the  order  could 
not  be  altered  or  violated,  nor  a  foreign  agent  interfere  to 
alter  or  violate  it,  without  our  being  immediately  sensi- 
ble of  what  was  passing.  As  also,  if  the  causes,  upon 
which  the  power  and  strength  of  either  good  or  bad  mo- 
tives depend,  were  ascertained,  then  it  would  likewise 
be  ascertained  when  this  force  was  ever  increased  or  di- 
minished by  external  influence  and  operation :  then  it 
might  be  true,  that  external  influence  could  not  act 
upon  us  without  being  perceived.  But  in  the  ignorance 
under  which  we  are  concerning  the  thoughts  and  mo- 
tives of  our  minds,  ^vhen  left  to  themselves,  we  must, 
naturally  speaking,  be,  at  the  time,  both  ignorant  and 
insensible  of  the  presence  of  an  interfering  power;  one 
Ignorance  will  correspond  with  the  other:  whilst,  ne- 
vertheless, the  assistance  and  benefit,  derived  from  that 
power,  may,  in  reality,  be  exceedingly  great.  In  this 
instance  philosophy,  in  my  opinion,  comes  in  aid  of 
religion.  In  the  ordinary  state  of  the  mind,  both  the 
presence  and  the  power  of  the  motives,  which  act  upon 
it,  proceed  from  causes,  of  which  we  know  nothing. 
This  philosophy  confesses,  and  indeed  teaches.  From 
whence  it  follows,  that,  when  these  causes  are  inter- 
rupted or  influenced,  that  interruption  and  that  influ- 
ence will  be  equally  unknown  to  us.  Just  reasoning 
shows  this  proposition  to  be  a  consequence  of  the  for- 
mer.  From  whence  it  follows  again,  that  immediatelv 
and  at  the  time  perceiving  the  operation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  not  only  not  necessary  to  the  reality  of  these 


272  SERMON  XXl"^. 

operations,  but  that  it  is  not  consonant  to  the  frame  of 
the  human  mind  that  it  should  be  so.  I  repeat  again, 
that  we  take  not  upon  us  to  assert  that  is  never  so. 
Undoubtedly  God  can,  if  he  lease,  give  that  tact  and 
quality  to  his  communications,  that  they  shall  be  per- 
ceived to  be  divine  communications  at  the  time.  And 
this  probably  was  very  frequently  the  case  with  the 
prophets,  with  the  apostles,  and  Avith  inspired  men  of 
old.  But  it  is  not  the  case  naturally,  by  which  I  mean, 
that  it  is  not  the  case  accordinsr  to  the  constitution  of 
the  human  soul.  It  does  not  appear,  by  experience,  to 
be  the  case  usually.  What  would  be  the  effect  of  the 
influence  of  the  divine  Spirit  being  always  or  generally 
accompanied  with  a  distinct  notice,  it  is  difficult  even  to 
conjecture.  One  thing  may  be  said  of  it,  that  it  would 
be  putting  us  under  a  quite  different  dispensation.  It 
would  be  putting  us  under  a  miraculous  dispensation; 
for  the  agency  of  the  Spirit  in  our  souls  distinctly  per- 
ceived is,  properly  speaking,  a  miracle.  Now  miracles 
are  instruments  in  the  hand  of  God  of  signal  and  ex- 
traordinary effects,  produced  upon  signal  and  extra- 
ordinary occasions.  Neither  internally  nor  externally 
do  they  form  the  ordinary  course  of  his  proceeding 
with  his  reasonable  creatures. 

And  in  this  there  is  a  close  analogy  with  the  course 
of  nature,  as  carried  on  under  the  divine  governm.ent. 
We  have  every  reason,  which  scripture  can  give  us,  for 
believing  that  God  frequently  interposes  to  turn  and 
guide  the  order  of  events  in  the  world,  so  as  to  make 
them  execute  his  purpose :  yet  we  do  not  so  perceive 


SERMON  XXIV.  273 

these  interpositions,  as,  either  always  or  generally,  to 
distinguish  them  from  the  natural  progress  of  things. 
His  providence  is  real,  but  unseen.  We  distinguish  not 
between  the  acts  of  God  and  the  course  of  nature.  It 
is  so  with  the  Spirit.  When,  therefore,  we  teach  that 
good  men  may  be  led,  or  bad  men  converted,  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  yet  they  themselves  not  distinguish 
his  holy  influence;  we  teach  no  more  than  \\hi\i  is  con- 
formable, as,  I  think,  has  been  shown,  to  the  frame  of 
the  human  mind,  or  rather  to  our  degree  of  acquaint 
tance  with  that  frame;  and  also  analogous  to  the  exer- 
cise of  divine  power  in  other  things;  and  also  neces- 
sary to  be  so;  unless  it  should  have  pleased  God  to 
put  us  under  a  quite  different  dispensation,  that  is, 
imder  a  dispensation  of  constant  miracles.  1  do  not 
apprehend  that  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  influence  car- 
ries the  agency  of  the  Deity  much  farther  than  the 
doctrine  of  providence  carries  it:  or,  however,  than  the 
doctrine  of  prater  carries  it.  For  all  prayer  supposes 
the  Deity- to  be  intimate  with  our  minds. 

But  if  we  do  not  know  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  by 
a  distinguishing  perception  at  the  time,  by  what  means 
do  we  know  any  thing  of  it  at  all"?  I  answer  by  its  (?/- 
fecfs,  and  by  those  alone.  And  this  I  concei\'e  to  be 
that,  which  our  Saviour  said  to  Nicodemus.  "  The 
wind  bloM'eth  where  it  listcth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh  and 
whither  it  goeth,  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the 
Spirit:"  that  is,  thou  perceivest  an  effect,  Init  the  cause, 
which  produces  that  eftect,  operates  in  its  own  way 5 

2  M 


274  SERMON  XXIV. 

without  thy  knowing  its  rule  or  manner  of  operation. 
With  regard  to  the  cause,  "  thou  canst  not  tell,  whence 
it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth."  A  change  or  improve- 
ment in  thy  religious  state  is  necessary.  The  agency 
and  help  of  the  Spirit  in  working  that  change  or 
promoting  that  improvement,  are  likewise  necessary: 
"  Except  a  man  be  born  of  the  Spirit  he  cannot  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God."  But  according  to  what 
particular  manner,  or  according  to  what  rule,  the  Spi- 
rit acts,  is  as  unknown  to  us,  as  the  causes  are,  which 
regulate  the  blowing  of  the  wind,  the  most  incalcula- 
ble and  unknown  thing  in  the  world.  Its  origin  is  un- 
known ;  its  mode  is  unknown ;  but  still  it  is  known  in 
its  eifects:  and  so  it  is  with  the  Spirit.  If  the  change 
have  taken  place ;  if  the  improvement  be  produced  and 
be  proceeding;  if  our  religious  affairs  go  on  well, 
then  have  we  ground  for  trust,  that  the  enabling,  assist- 
ing Spirit  of  God  is  with  us;  though  we  have  no  other 
knowledge  or  perception  of  the  matter  than  what  this 
affords. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  subject  whatever,  in  which  we 
ought  to  be  so  careful  not  to  go  before  our  guide,  as 
in  this  of  spiritual  influence.  We  ought  neither  to  ex- 
pect more  than  what  is  promised,  nor  to  take  upon 
ourselves  to  determine  what  the  scriptures  have  not 
determined.  This  safe  rule  will  produce  both  caution 
in  judging  of  ourselves,  and  moderation  in  judging, 
or  rather  a  backwardness  in  taking  upon  us  to  judge 
of  others.  The  modes  of  operation  of  God's  Spirit  are 
probably  extremely  various  and  numerous.  This  va- 


SERMON  XXIV.  275 

riety  is  intimated  by  our  Saviour's  comparing  it  with 
the  blowing  of  the  wind    We  have  no  right  to  limit  it 
to  any  particular  mode,  forasmuch  as  the  scriptures, 
have  not  limited  it;  nor  does  observation  enable  us  to 
do  it  with  any  degree  of  certainty. 

The  conversion  of  a  sinner,  for  instance,  may  be  sud- 
den; nay,  may  be  instantaneous,  yet  be  botlv  sincere 
aiid  permanent.  We  have  no  authority  whatever  to 
deny  the  possibility  of  this.  On  the  contrary,  we  ought 
to  rejoice,  when  we  observe  in  any  one  even  the  ap- 
pearance of  such  a  change.  And  this  change  may  not 
only  by  possibility  be  sudden,  but  sudden  changes 
may  be  more  frequent,  than  our  observations  would 
lead  us  to  expect. — For  we  can  observe  only  effects, 
and  these  must  have  time  to  show  themselves  in; 
whilst  the  change  of  heart  may  be  already  wrought. 
It  is  a  change  of  heart,  which  is  attributable  to  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  this  may  be  sudden.  The  fruits, 
the  corresponding  effects,  the  external  formation,  and 
external  good  actions  will  follow  in  due  time.  "  I  will 
take  the  stony  heart  out  of  their  flesh ;  and  will  give 
them  an  heart  of  flesh."  Ezekiel,  xi.  19.  These  words 
may  well  describe  God's  dealings  with  his  moral  crea- 
tures, and  the  operations  of  his  grace:  then  follows  a 
description  of  the  effects  of  these  dealings,  of  these 
operations,  of  that  grace,  viz.  *'  that  they  may  walk  in 
my  statutes  and  keep  my  ordinances  and  do  them;" 
which  represents  a  permanent  habit  and  course  of  life 
(a  thing  of  continuance)  resulting  from  an  inward 
change,  (which  might  be  a  thing  produced  at  once.) 


276  SERMON  XXIV. 

In  tlie  meiui  time  it  may  be  true,  that  the  more  or- 
dinary course  of  God's  grace  is  gradual  and  succes- 
sive; helping  from  time  to  time  our  endeavours,  suc- 
couring our  infirn\ities,  strengthening  our  resolutions, 
"  making  Avith  the  temptation  a  way  to  escape,"  pro- 
moting our  improvement,  assisting  our  progress; 
warning,  reiDuking,  encouraging,  comforting,  attend-, 
ing  us  as  it  were,  through  the  different  stages  of  our 
laborious  advance  in  the  road  of  salvation. 

And  as  the  operations  of  the  Spirit  are  indefinite, 
so  far  as  \\c  know,  in  respect  of  time,  so  are  they  Uke- 
wise  in  respect  of  mode.  They  may  act,  and  observa- 
tion affords  reason  to  believe  that  they  do  sometimes 
act,  by  adding  force  and  efficacy  to  instruction,  ad- 
A'ice,  or  admonition.  A  passage  of  scripture  sometimes 
strikes  tlie  heart  with  wonderful  power;  adheres,  as  it 
were,  aind  cleaves  to  the  memory,  till  it  has  wrought 
its  work.  An  impressive  sermon  is  often  known  to 
sink  very  deep.  It  is  not,  perhaps,  too  much  to  hope, 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  should  accompany  his  ordi- 
nances, provided  a  person  bring  to  them  seriousness, 
humility  and  devotion.  For  example,  the  devout  re- 
ceiving of  the  holy  sacrament  may  draw  down  upon 
us  the  gift  and  benefit  of  divine  grace,  or  increase  our 
measure  of  it.  This,  as  being  the  most  solemn  act  of 
our  religion,  and  also  an  appointment  of  the  religion 
itself,  may  be  properly  placed  for  it;  but  every  species 
of  prayer,  provided  it  be  earnest;  every  act  of  worship, 
provided  it  be  sincere,  may  participate  in  the  same 
effect;  may  be  to  us  tlie  occasion,  tlie  time,  and  the 
instrument  of  this  greatest  of  all  gifts. 


SERMON  XXIV.  077 

In  all  these  instances,  and  in  all,  indeed  that  relate 
to  the  operations  of  the  Spirit,  we  are  to  judge,  if  wc 
will  take  upon  us  to  judge  at  all,  (which  I  do  not  see 
that  we  are  obliged  to  do,)  not  only  with  great  candour 
and  moderation,  but  also  with  great  reserve  and  cau- 
tion, and  as  to  the  modes  of  divine  grace,  or  of  its 
proceedings  in  the  hearts  of  men,  as  of  things  un- 
determined in  scripture  and  indeterminable  by  us. 
In  our  ou  n  case,  which  it  is  of  infinitely  more  impor- 
tance to  each  of  us  to  manage  rightly,  than  it  is  to 
judge  even  truly  of  other  men's,  we  are  to  use  per- 
severingly,  every  appointed,  every  reasonable,  every 
probable,  every  virtuous  endeavour  to  render  our- 
selves objects  of  that  merciful  assistance,  which  un- 
doubtedly and  confessedly  we  much  want,  and  which, 
in  one  way  or  otlier.  God,  wc  are  assured,  is  willing 
to  aftbrd. 


SERMON  XXV. 

ON  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  SPIRIT, 

(PART  III.) 

1  Corinthians,  iii.  16. 

''  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God^  and  thai 
the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you?'''' 

As  all  doctrine  ought  to  end  in  practice,  and  all  sound 
instruction  lead  to  right  conduct,  it  comes,  in  the  last 
place,  to  be  considered,  what  obligations  follow  from 
the  tenet  of  an  assisting  grace  and  spiritual  influence ; 
what  is  to  be  done  on  our  part  in  consequence  of 
holding  such  a  persuasion ;  what  is  the  behaviour  cor- 
responding and  consistent  with  such  an  opinion;  for 
\ve  must  always  bear  in  mind,  that  the  grace  and 
Spirit  of  God  no  more  take  away  our  freedom  of 
action,  our  personal  and  moral  liberty,  than  the  advice^ 
the  admonitions,  the  suggestions,  the  reproofs,  the  ex- 
postulations, the  counsels  of  a  friend  or  parent  would 
take  them  away.  We  may  act  either  right  or  wrong, 
notwithstanding  these  interferences.  It  still  depends 
upon  ourselves  which  of  the  two  we  will  do.  We  are 
not  machines  under  these  impressions:  nor  are  we 


SERMON  XXV.  279 

under  the  impression  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Therefore 
there  is  a  class  of  duties  relating  to  this  subject,  a& 
much  as  any  other,  and  more,  perhaps,  than  any  other 
important 

And,  first,  I  would  apply  myself  to  an  objection, 
which  belongs  to  this,  namely,  the  practical  part  of  the 
subject:  which  objection  is,  that  the  doctrine  of  spi- 
ritual influence,  and  the  preaching  of  this  doctrine, 
causes  men  to  attend  chiefly  to  the  feelings  within 
them,  to  place  religion  in  feelings  and  sensations,  and 
to  be  content  with  such  feelings  and  sensations,  with- 
out coming  to  active  duties  and  real  usefulness ;  that 
it  tends  to  produce  a  contemplative  religion,  accom- 
panied with  a  sort  of  abstraction  from  the  interests' of 
this  world,  as  respecting  either  ourselves  or  others;  a 
sort  of  quietism  and  indifference,  which  contributes 
nothing  to  the  good  of  mankind,  or  to  make  a  man 
serviceable  in  his  generation;  that  men  of  this  descrip- 
tion sit  brooding  over  what  passes  in  their  hearts, 
without  performing  any  good  actions,  or  well  discharg- 
ing their  social  or  domestic  obligations,  or  indeed 
guarding  their  outward  conduct  with  sufficient  care. 
Now,  if  there  be  any  foundation  in  fact  for  this  charge, 
it  arises  from  some  persons  holding  this  doctrine  de- 
fectively ;  I  mean  from  their  not  attending  to  one  main 
point  in  the  doctrine,  which  is,  that  the  promise  is  not 
to  those  who  have  the  Spirit,  but  to  those  who  are  led 
by  the  Spirit;  not  to  those  who  are  favoured  with  its 
suggestions,  but  to  those  who  give  themselves  up  to 
follow,  and  do   actually  follow^    these   suggestions. 


280  SERMON  XXV. 

Now,  thou,^h  a  person  by  attending  to  his  feelings  and 
consciousness  may  persuade  himself,  that  he  has  the 
Spirit  of  God,  yet  if  he  stop  and  rest  in  these  sensa- 
tions without  consequential  practical  exertions,  it  can 
by  no  possibility  be  said  of  him,  nor,  one  would  think, 
could  he  possibly  bring  himself  to  believe,  that  he  is 
led hy  the  Spirit,  that  \\q  follows  the  Spirit;  for  these 
terms  necessarily  imply  something  done  under  that 
influence ;  necessarily  carry  the  tlioughts  to  a  course  of 
conduct  entered  into  and  pursued  in  obedience  to,  and 
by  virtue  of  that  influence.  Whether  the  objection 
here  noticed  has  any  foundation  in  tiie  conduct  of 
those,  who  hold  the  doctrine  of  ^\  hich  we  treat,  I  am 
uncertain;  accounts  are  difterent:  but  at  any  rate  the 
objection  lies,  not  against  the  doctrine,  but  against  a 
defective  apprehension  of  it.  For,  in  confirmation  of 
all  which  we  have  said,  wt  may  produce  the  example  of 
St.  Paul.  No  one  carried  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  influ- 
ence higher  than  he  did,  or  spoke  of  it  so  much ;  yet 
no  character  in  the  world  could  be  farther  than  his 
was,  from  resting  in  feelings  and  sensations.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  all  activity  and  usefulness.  His  whole 
history  confirms  what  he  said  of  himself,  that  in  la- 
bours, in  positive  exertions,  both  of  mind  and  body, 
he  was  above  measure.  It  will  be  said,  perhaps,  that 
these  exertions  were  in  a  particular  way,  viz.  in  mak- 
ing converts  to  his  opinions;  but  it  was  the  way  in 
which,  as  he  believed,  he  was  promoting  the  interest 
of  his  fellow  creatures  in  the  greatest  degree  possible 
for  him  to  promote  them;  and  it  was  the  way  also, 
which  he  believed  to  be  enjoined  upon  him  by  the 


SERMON  XXV.  28J 

express  and  particular  command  of  God.  Had  there 
been  any  other  method,  any  other  course  and  line  of 
beneficent  endeavours,  in  which  he  thought  he  could 
have  been  more  useful,  and  had  the  choice  been  left 
to  himself,  (which  it  Avas  not)  the  same  principle,  the 
same  eager  desire  of  doing  good,  would  have  mani- 
fested itself  with  equal  vigour  in  that  other  line.  His 
sentiments  and  precepts  corresponded  with  his  exam- 
ple. "  Do  good  unto  all  men,  especially  unto  them 
that  are  of  the  household  of  Christ."  Here  doing  is 
enjoined.  Nothing  less  than  doing  can  satisfy  this  pre- 
cept. Feelings  and  sensations  will  not,  though  of  the 
best  kind.  "  Let  him  that  stole,  steal  no  more,  but 
rather  let  him  labour  with  his  hands,  that  he  may  have 
to  give  to  him  that  needeth."  This  is  carrying  active 
beneficence  as  far  as  it  can  go.  Men  are  commanded 
to  relieve  the  necessities  of  their  poor  brethren  out  of 
the  earnings  of  their  manual  labour,  nay  to  labour  for 
that  very  purpose :  and  their  doing  so  is  stated  as  the 
best  expiation  for  former  dishonesties,  and  the  best 
proof  how  much  and  how  truly  they  are  changed  from 
what  they  were.  "  Let  him  that  ruleth,  do  it  with 
diligence."  This  is  a  precept,  which  cannot  be  com- 
plied with  without  activity.  These  instructions  could 
not  come  from  a  man,  who  placed  religion  in  feelings 
and  sensations. 

Having  noticed  this  objection,  (for  it  well  deserved 
notice,)  I  proceed  to  state  the  particular  duties,  which 
relate  to  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  assistance.  And  the 
first  of  these  duties  is  to  pray  for  it.  It  is  by  prayer 

2N   ' 


^82  SERMON  XXV.     • 

that  it  16  to  be  sought;  by  prayer  that  it  is  to  be  obtam- 
eel.  This  the  scriptures  expressly  teach.  "  How  much 
more  will  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  that  ask  him?"  The  foundation  of  prayer,  in 
all  cases,  is  a  sense  of  want.  No  man  prays  in  earnest 
or  to  any  purpose  for  what  he  does  not  feel  that  he 
wants.  Know  then  and  feel  the  weakness  of  your  na- 
ture. Know  the  infinite  importance  of  holding  on, 
nevertheless,  in  a  course  of  virtue.  Know  these  two 
points  thoroughly,  and  you  can  stand  in  need  of  no 
additional  motive,  (indeed  none  can  be  added,)  to  ex- 
cite in  you  strong  unwearied  supplications  for  divine 
help;  not  a  cold  asking  for  it  in  any  prescribed  form 
of  prayer,  but  cryings  and  supplications  for  it,  strong 
and  unwearied.  The  description,  in  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  of  our  Lord's  own  devotion,  may  serve  to 
describe  the  devotion  of  a  christian,  praying,  as  he 
ought,  for  the  Spirit,  that  is,  praying  from  a  deep  un- 
derstanding of  his  own  condition,  a  conviction  of  his 
wants  and  necessities.  "  He  offered  up  prayers  and 
supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears  unto  him, 
that  was  able  to  save  him  from  death;  and  was  heard 
in  that  he  feared."  This  is  devotion  in  reality. 

There  are  occasions  also,  which  ought  to  call  forth 
these  prayers  with  extraordinary  and  peculiar  force. 

Is  it  superstition?  is  it  not,  on  the  contrary,  a  just 
and  rcasonalDle  piety  to  implore  of  God  the  guidance 
of  his  Holy  Spirit,  when  we  have  any  thing  of  great 
importance  to  decide  upon,  or  to  undertake;  especi- 


SERMON  XXV.  283 

ally  any  thing,  Ijy  which  the  happiness  of  others,  as 
well  as  our  own,  is  likely  to  be  affected? 

It  would  be  difficult  to  enumerate  the  passages  and 
occasions  of  a  man's  life,  in  which  he  is  particularly 
bound  to  apply  to  God  for  the  aid  and  direction  of  his 
Spirit.  In  general,  in  every  turn^  as  it  may  be  called, 
of  life ;  whenever  any  thing  critical,  any  thing  momepr- 
tous,  any  thing  which  is  to  fix  our  situation  and  course 
of  life;  roost  especially  any  thing,  which  is  likely  to 
have  an  influence  upon  our  moral  conduct  and  dispo- 
sition, and  thereby  affect  our  condition,  as  candidates 
for  heaven,  and  as  the  religious  servants  of  God,  is  to 
be  resolved  upon,  there  and  then  ought  \ve  to  say  our 
prayers;  most  ardently  supplicating  from  our  Creator 
and  Preserver  the  grace  and  guidance  of  his  Holy 
Spirit. 

Is  it  not,  again,  a  time  for  calling  earnestly  for  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  for  a  greater  measure  of  tliat  Spirit, 
if  he  be  pleased  to  grant  it  to  us,  when  we  arc  reco- 
vering from  some  sin,  into  which  we  have  been  be- 
trayed? This  case  is  always  critical.  The  question 
now  is,  whether  we  shall  faU  into  a  settled  course  of 
sinning,  or  whether  we  shall  be  restored  to  our  former, 
and  to  better  than  our  former,  endeavours  to  maintain. 
the  line  of  duty.  That,  under  the  sting  and  present 
alarm  of  our  conscience,  we  haxe  formed  resolutions 
of  virtue  for  the  future  is  supposed:  but  whether  these 
resolutions  will  stand,  is  the  point  now  at  issue.  And 
in  this  peril  of  our  souls  wC'  cannot  be  too  earnest  or 


284  SERMON  XXV. 

importunate  in  our  supplications  for  divine  sutcour. 
It  can  never  come  to  our  aid  at  a  time,  when  we  more 
want  it.  Our  fall  proves  our  weakness.  Our  desire  of 
recovery  proves,  that,  though  fallen,  we  may  not  be 
lost.  This  is  a  condition,  which  flies  to  aid  and  help, 
if  aid  and  help  can  be  had;  and  it  is  a  condition,  to 
which  the  promised  support  of  the  Spirit  most  pecu- 
liarly applies.  On  such  an  occasion,  therefore,  it  will 
be  sought  with  struggles  and  strong  contention  of 
mind,  if  we  be  serious  in  these  matters;  so  sought,  it 
will  be  obtained. 

Again :  Is  it  not  always  a  fit  subject  of  prayer,  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  would  inform,  animate,  warm,  and 
support  our  devotions  P  St.  Paul  speaks  of  the  coope- 
ration of  the  Spirit  with  us  in  this  very  article.  "  Like- 
wise the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our  infirmities,  for  we 
know  not  what  we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought :  but 
the  Spirit  maketh  intercession  for  us  with  groanings 
that  cannot  be  uttered."  The  specific  help  here  des- 
cribed is  to  supply  our  ignorance.  But  the  words 
speak  also  generally  of  helping  our  infirmities,  mean- 
ing, as  the  passage  leads  us  to  suppose,  the  infirmities 
which  attend  our  devotion.  Now  these  infirmities  are 
jiot  only  ignorance,  but  coldness,  wanderings,  absence; 
for  all  which  a  remedy  is  to  be  sought  in  the  aid  and 
help  of  the  Spirit. 

Next  in  order  of  time,  to  praying  for  the  Spirit  of 
God,  but  still  superior  to  it  in  importance,  is  listening 
and  yielding  ourselves  to  his  suggestions.  This  is  the 


SERMON  XX\  .  2a5- 

thing  in  which  we  fail.  Now,  it  being  confessed,  that 
we  cannot  ordinarily  distinguish  at  the  time  the  sug- 
gestions of  the  Spirit  from  the  operations  of  our  minds, 
it  may  be  asked,  how  are  we  to  listen  to  them?  The 
answer  is,  by  attending  imiversally  to  the  admoni- 
tions within  us. — Men  do  not  listen  to  their  conscien- 
ces. It  is  through  the  whisperings  of  conscience  that 
the  Spirit  speaks.  If  men  then  are  wilfully  deaf  to 
their  consciences,  they  cannot  hear  the  Spirit.  If  hear- 
ing, if  being  compelled  to  hear,  the  remonstrances  ol 
conscience,  they  nevertheless  decide,  and  resolve,  and 
determine  to  go  against  them ;  then  they  grieve,  then 
they  defy,  then  they  do  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  God.' 
In  both  cases,  that  is,  both  of  neglecting  to  consult, 
and  of  defying,  when  they  cannot  help  feeling,  the  ad- 
monitions which  rise  up  within  them,  they  have  this 
judgment  hanging  over  their  heads:  "He  that  hath 
not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  even  that  which  he  hath." 
He  that  misuses  or  abuses  the  portion  and  measure  oi 
spiritual  assistance,  which  is  afforded  him,  shall  lose 
even  that. 

The  efficacy  of  the  Spirit  is  to  be  judged  of  by  its 
fruits.  Its  immediate  effects  arc  upon  the  disposition. 
A  visible  outward  conduct  will  ensue ;  but  the  true 
seat  of  grace  and  of  spiritual  energy  is  in  the  heart  and 
inward  disposition.  Whenever,  therefore,  we  find  reli- 
gious carelessness  succeeded  within  us  by  religious 
seriousness;  conscience,  which  was  silent  or  unheard, 
now  powerfully  speaking  and  obeyed;  sensuality  and 
selfishness,  the  two  grand  enemies  of  salvation,  the 


2«6  SERMON  XXV. 

two  great  powers  of  darkness,  which  rule  the  natural 
man;  when  we  find  even  these  giving  way  to  the  m- 
ward  accusing  voice  of  conscience :  when  we  find  the 
thoughts  of  the  mind  drawing  or  drawn  more  and 
more  towards  heavenly  things ;  the  value  and  interest 
of  these  expectations  plainer  to  our  view,  a  great  deal 
more  frequent  than  heretofore  in  our  meditations,  and 
more  fully  discerned;  the  care  and  safety  of  our  souls 
rising  gradually  above  concerns  and  anxieties  about 
worldly  affairs ;  when  we  find  the  force  of  temptation 
and  of  evil  propensities,  not  extinct,  but  retreating 
before  a  sense  of  duty;  self-government  maintained; 
the  interruptions  of  it  immediately  perceived,  bitterly 
deplored,  and  soon  recovered ;  sin  rejected  and  repel- 
led; and  this  not  so  much  with  an  increase  of  confi- 
dence in  our  strength,  as  of  reliance  upon  the  assist- 
ing grace  of  God;  when  we  find  ourselves  touched 
with  the  love  of  our  Maker,  taking  satisfaction  in  his 
worship  and  service;  when  we  feel  a  growing  taste 
and  relish  for  religious  subjects,  and  religious  exer- 
cises: above  all,  when  we  begin  to  rejoice  in  the  com- 
fort of  the  Holy  Ghost;  in  the  prospect  of  reaching 
heaven;  in  the  powerful  aids  and  helps,  which  are 
given  us  in  accomplishing  this  great  end,  and  the 
strength,  and  firmness,  and  resolution,  which,  so  helped 
and  aided,  we  experience  in  our  progress:  when  we 
feel  these  things,  dien  may  we,  without  either  enthu- 
siasm or  superstition,  humbly  believe,  that  the  Spirit 
of  God  hath  been  at  work  within  us.  External  vir- 
tues, good  actions  will  follow,  as  occasions  may  draw 
them  forth;   but  it  is  within  th^t  we  must  look  for 


SERMON  XXV.  287 

the  change,  which  the  inspiration  of  God's  Spirit  pro- 
duces. 

With  respect  to  positive  external  good  actions,  we 
have  said,  that  they  must  depend  in  some  measure 
upon  occasions  and  abilities  and  opportunities,  and 
tiuit  they  must  wait  for  opportunities;  but,  observe,  it 
is  not  so  witii  the  breaking  off  of  our  sins,  be  they 
what  they  will.  That  work  must  wait  for  nothing. 
Until  that  be  effected,  no  change  is  made.  No  man, 
going  on  in  a  known  sin,  has  any  right  to  say,  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  has  done  its  office  within  him.  Either 
it  has  not  been  given  to  hiih,  or,  being  given,  it  has 
been  resisted,  despised,  or,  at  least,  neglected.  Such 
a  person  has  either  yet  to  obtain  it  by  prayer,  or  when 
obtained,  to  avail  himself  duly  of  its  assistance.  Let 
him  understand  this  to  be  his  condition. 

The  next  duty,  or  rather  disposition,  which  flows 
from  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  influence,  is  humility. 
There  never  was  a  truer  saying,  than  that  pride  is  the 
adversary  of  religion;  lowliness  and  humility  the  tem- 
pers for  it. — Now  religious  humility  consists  in  the 
habit  of  referring  every  thing  to  God.  From  one  end 
of  the  New  Testament  to  the  other,  God  is  set  forth 
and  magnified  in  his  agency  and  his  operations. 

In  the  greatest  of  all  businesses,  the  business  of  sal- 
vation, He  is  operating,  and  we  cooperating  with  him, 
*'  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling;" and  why?  "  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  us  to 


288  SERMON  XXV. 

will  and  to  do  according  to  his  good  pleasure."  He  is 
not  superseding  our  endeavours,  (the  very  contrary 
is  implied  by  commanding  us  to  exert  them,)  but 
still  nothing  is  done  without  him.  If  we  have  moral 
strength,  we  are  strong  in  the  inward  might  of  the 
Holy  Ghost:  consequently  all  boasting,  all  vanity,  all 
self-sufficiency,  all  despising  of  others,  on  the  score  of 
moral  and  religious  mferiority,  are  excluded.  Without 
the  grace  of  God  we  might  have  been  as  the  worst  of 
them.  There  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  one  train  of 
sentiment  belonging  to  him,  who  has  achieved  a  work 
by  his  own  might,  and  power,  and  prowess;  and  an- 
other to  him,  who  has  been  fain  to  beg  for  succour 
and  assistance,  and  by  that  assistance  alone  has  been 
carried  through  difficulties,  which  were  too  great  for 
his  own  strength  and  faculties.  This  last  is  the  true 
sentiment  for  us.  It  is  not  for  a  man,  whose  life  has 
been  saved  in  a  shipwreck,  by  the  compassionate  help 
of  others,  it  is  not  for  a  man,  so  saved,  to  boast  of  his 
own  alertness  and  vigour,  though  it  be  true,  that,  un- 
less he  had  exerted  what  power  and  strength  he  was 
possessed  of,  he  would  not  have  been  saved  at  all. 

Lastly,  this  doctrine  shuts  the  door  against  a  most 
general,  a  most  specious,  and  a  most  deceiving  excuse 
for  our  sins;  which  excuse  is,  that  we  have  striven 
against  them,  but  are  overpowered  by  our  evil  na- 
ture, by  that  nature,  which  the  scriptures  themselves 
represent  as  evil;  in  a  word,  that  we  have  done  what 
we  could.  Now  until,  by  supplication  and  prayer,  we 


'  vSERMON  XXV  289 

have  called  for  the  promised  assistance  of  God^s  Spirit, 
and  with  an  earnestness,  devotion,  perseverance,  and 
importunity,  proportioned  to  the  magnitude  of  the 
concern:  until  we  have  rendered  ourselves  objects  of 
that  influence,  and  yielded  ourselves  to  it,  it  is  not 
true,  "  that  we  have  done  all  that  we  can."  We  must 
not  rely  upon  that  excuse;  for  it  is  not  true  in  fact. 
If  experiencing  the  depravity  and  imbecility  of  our 
nature,  we  see  in  this  corruption  and  weakness  an 
excuse  for  our  sins,   and  taking   up  with   this  ex- 
cuse, we  surrender  ourselves  to  them :  if  we  give  up, 
or  relax  in,   our  opposition  to  them,  and  struggles 
against  them,  at  last  consenting  to  our  shis,  and  faliijig 
down  with  the  stream,  which  we  have  found  so  hard 
to  resist;  if  things  take  this  turn  with  us,  then  are  wc 
in  a  state  to  be  utterly,  finally,  and  fatally  undone. 
We  have  it  in  our  power  to  shut  our  eyes  against  the 
danger;  we  naturally  shall  endeavour  to  make  our-^ 
selves  as  easy  and  contented  in  our  situation  as  wc 
can ;  but  the  truth  nevertheless,  is,  that  we  are  hasten- 
ing to  certain  perdition.  If,  on  the  contrary,  perceiving 
the  feebleness  of  our  nature,  we  be  driven  by  the  per- 
ception, as  St.  Paul  was  driven,  to  fly  for  deliverance 
from  our  sins,  to  the  aid  and  influence  and  power  of 
God's  Spirit,  to  seek  for  divine  help  and  succour,  as 
a  sinking  mariner  calls  out  for  help  and  succour,  not 
formally,  we  may  be  sure,  or  coldly,  but  with  cries 
and  tears  and  supplications,  as  for  life  itself;  if  we  be 
prepared  to  cooperate  with  this  help,  with  the  holy 
working  of  God's  grace  within  us,  then  may  we  trust, 
both  that  it  will  be  given  to  us,  (yet  in  such  manner 

20 


290       '  SERMON  XXV. 

as  to  God  shall  seem  fit,  and  which  cannot  be  limited 
by  us,)  and  also  that  the  portion  of  help  which  is  given, 
being  duly  used  and  improved,  (not  despised,  neg- 
lected, put  away,)  more  and  more  will  be  continually 
added,  for  the  ultimate  accomplishment  of  our  great 
end  and  object,  the  deliverance  of  our  souls  from  the 
captivity  and  the  consequences  of  sin. 


SERMON  XXVI. 

SIN  ENCOUNTERED  BY  SPIRITUAL  AID. 
IN  THREE  PARTS. 

(PART  I.) 

Romans,  vii.  24. 

'>  0  wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death?'^'* 

Before  we  can  explain  what  is  the  precise  subject 
of  this  heavy  lamentation,  and  what  the  precise  mean- 
ing of  the  solemn  question  here  asked,  we  must  en- 
deavour to  understand  what  is  intended  by  the  expres- 
sion, "  the  body  of  this  death,"  or,  as  some  render  it, 
"  this  body  of  death." 

Now  let  it  be  remembered,  that  death,  in  St.  PauPs 
epistles,  hardly  ever  signifies  a  natural  death,  to  which 
all  men  of  all  kinds  are  equally  subjected;  but  it  means 
a  spiritual  death,  or  that  perdition  and  destruction, 
to  which  sin  brings  men  in  a  future  state.  "  The  wages 
of  sin  is  death;"  not  the  death,  which  we  must  all  un- 


292  .  SERMON  XXVl. 

'lergo  in  this  world ;  for  that  is  the  fate  of  righteous- 
ness as  well  as  sin;  but  the  state,  whatever  it  -be,  to 
which  sin  and  sinners  will  be  consigned  in  the  world, 
to  come.  Not  many  verses  after  our  text,  St.  Paul 
says,  "  carnal-mindedness  is  death:"  "  to  be  carnally 
minded  is  death,"  leads,  that  is,  inevitably,  to  that  fu- 
ture destruction,  which  awaits  the  sinful  indulgence  of 
carnal  propensities,  and  which  destruction  is,  as  it 
were,  death  to  the  soul.  The  book  of  Revelations,  al- 
luding to  this  distinction,  speaks  expressly  of  a  second 
deaths  in  terms  very  fit  to  be  called  to  mind  in  the  con- 
sideration of  our  present  text.  "  I  saw  the  dead,  small 
and  great,  stand  before  God;  and  the  books  were 
opened;  and  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the 
book  of  life;  and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those 
things,  which  were  written,  according  to  their  works: 
and  the  sea  gave  up  the  dead  which  were  in  it,  and 
death  and  hell  (which  last  word  denotes  here  simply 
the  place  of  the  dead,  not  the  place  of  punishment,) 
delivered  up  the  dead  that  were  in  them:  and  they 
were  judged  every  man  according  to  their  works:  and 
death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire;"  (that  is, 
natural  death,  and  the  receptacle  of  those,  who  died, 
were  thenceforth  superseded. )  This  is  the  secojid  death, 
*•'  And  whatsoever  was  not  found  written  in  the  book 
of  life,  was  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire."  This  description, 
which  is  exceedingly  awful,  is  given  in  the  three  last 
verses  of  the  20th  chapter.  In  reference  to  the  same 
event,  this  book  of  Revelations  had  before  told  us,  viz. 
in  the  2nd  chapter  and  11th  verse,  that  he  who  over- 
cometh  shall  not  be  hurt  of  the  second  death ;  and  in  like 


5iERM0N  XXVI.  293 

manner  in  the  above  quoted  20th  chapter;  ''  Blessed 
and  lioly  is  he  that  hath  part  in  this  resurrection:  on 
such  the  second  death  hath  no  power."  Our  Lord 
himself  refers  to  this  death  in  those  never  to  be 
forgotten  words,  which  he  uttered,  "  He  that  liveth, 
and  belie veth  in  me,  shall  not  die  eternally."  Die  he 
must,  but  not  eternally:  die  the  first  death;  but  not  the 
second.  It  is  undoubtedly,  therefore,  the  second  death, 
which  St.  Paul  meant  by  the  word  death,  when  he 
Avrote  down  the  sentence,  "  the  body  of  this  death:" 
and  the  second  death  is  the  punishment,  perdition,  and 
destruction,  which  the  souls  of  sinners  will  suffer  in  a 
future  state.  It  is  well  worthy  of  observation,  that  this 
was  indeed  the  only  death,  which  those,  who  wrote 
the  New  Testament,  and  probably  all  sincere  christi- 
ans of  that  age,  regarded  as  important;  as  the  subject 
of  their  awe,  and  dread,  and  solicitude.  The  first  death, 
the  natural  and  universal  decease  of  the  body,  thev 
looked  to  simply  as  a  change,  a  going  out  of  one  room 
into  another;  a  putting  off  one  kind  of  clothing,  and 
putting  on  a  diflerent  kind.  They  esteemed  it,  com- 
pared with  the  other,  of  little  moment  or  account.  In 
this  respect  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  the 
scripture  apprehension  of  the  subject  and  ours.  We 
think  entirely  of  the  first  death;  they  thought  entirelv 
of  the  second.  We  speak  and  talk  of  the  death  which 
we  see:  they  spoke,  and  taught,  and  wrote  of  a  death, 
which  is  future  to  that.  We  look  to  the  first  with  ter- 
ror; they  to  the  second  alone.  I'he  second  alone  they 
represent  as  formidable.  Such  is  the  view  which  Chris- 
tianity gives  us  of  these  things,  so  different  from  what 
we  naturallv  entertain. 


294  SERMON  XXVI. 

You  see  then  what  death  is  m  the  scripture  sense; 
in  St.  Paul's  sense.  "  The  body  of  this  death."  The 
phrase  and  expression  of  the  text  cannot,  however, 
mean  this  death  itself,  because  he  prays  to  be  delivered 
from  it ;  whereas  from  that  death,  or  that  perdition  un- 
derstood by  it,  when  it  once  overtakes  the  sinner,  there 
is  no  deliverance  that  we  know  of.  The  "  body  then 
of  this  death,"  is  not  the  death  itself,  but  a  state  lead- 
ing to  and  ending  in  the  second  death;  namely,  misery 
and  punishment,  instead  of  happiness  and  rest,  after 
our  departure  out  of  this  world.  And  this  state  it  is, 
from  which  St.  Paul,  with  such  vehemence  and  con- 
cern upon  his  Spirit,  seeks  to  be  delivered. 

Having  seen  the  signification  of  the  principal  phrase 
employed  in  the  text,  the  next,  and  the  most  impor- 
tant question  is,  to  what  condition  of  the  soul,  in  its 
moral  and  religious  concerns,  the  Apostle  applies  it. 
Now  in  the  verses  preceding  the  text,  indeed  in  the 
whole  of  this  remarkable  chapter,  St.  Paul  has  been 
describing  a  state  of  struggle  and  contention  with  sin- 
ful propensities;  which  propensities,  in  the  present 
condition  of  our  nature,  we  all  feel,  and  which  are  ne- 
ver wholly  abolished.  But  our  Apostle  goes  further: 
he  describes  also  that  state  of  unsuccessful  struggle  and 
unsuccessful  contention,  by  which  many  so  unhappily 
fall.  His  words  are  these,  "  that  which  I  do  I  allow 
not,  for  what  I  would,  that  I  do  not;  but  what  I  hate, 
that  do  I.  For  I  know  that  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh, 
dwelleth  no  good  thing:  for  to  will  is  present  with  me, 
but  how  to  perform  that  which  is  good  I  find  not;  for 


SERMON  XXVI.  295 

for  the  good  that  I  would  I  do  not;  but  the  evil  which 
I  would  not  that  I  do.  I  find  a  law,  that,  when  I  would 
do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me.  For  I  delight  in 
the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man.  But  I  see  ano- 
ther law  in  my  members  warring  against  the  law  of 
my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law 
of  sin  which  is  in  my  members." 

This  account,  though  the  style  and  manner  of  ex- 
pression, in  which  it  is  delivered,  be  very  peculiar,  is 
in  its  substance  no  other,  than  what  is  strictly  applica- 
ble to  the  case  of  thousands.  "  The  good  that  I  would, 
I  do  not;  the  evil  which  I  would  not,  that  I  do."  How 
many,  who  read  this  discourse,  may  say  the  same  of 
themselves!  as  also,  "  what  I  would,  that  do  I  not, 
but  what  1  hate,  that  I  do!"  This  then  is  the  case 
which  St.  Paul  had  in  view.  It  is  a  case,  first,  which 
supposes  an  informed  and  enlightened  conscience,  "  I 
delight  in  the  law  of  God."  "  I  had  not  known  sin 
but  by  the  law."  "  I  consent  unto  the  law  that  it  is 
good."  These  sentiments  could  only  be  uttered  by  a 
man,  who  was,  in  a  considerable  degree  at  least,  ac- 
quainted with  his  duty,  and  who  also  approved  of  the 
rule  of  duty,  which  he  found  laid  down. 

Secondly,  the  case  before  us  also  supposes  an  inch 
nation  of  mind,  and  judgment  to  perform  our  duty, 
■'  When  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me:  to 
will  is  present  with  me,  but  how  to  perform  that  which 
is  good  I  find  not." 


296  SERMON  XXVI.      - 

Thirdly,  it  supposes  this  inclination  of"  mind  and 
judgment  to  be  continually  overpowered.  "  1  see  ano- 
ther law  in  m}'^  members,  warring  against  the  law  of 
my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law  of 
sin,  which  is  in  ni}^  members:"  that  is,  the  evil  princi- 
ple not  only  opposes  the  judgment  of  the  mind,  and 
the  conduct  which  that  judgment  dictates,  (which  may 
be  the  case  with  all,)  but  in  the  present  case  subdues 
and  gets  the  better  of  it.  "  Not  only  wars  against  the 
law  of  my  mind,  but  brings  me  into  captivity." 

Fourthly,  the  case  supposes  a  sense  and  thorough 
consciousness  of  all  this;  of  the  rule  of  duty,  of  the 
nature  of  sin;  of  the  struggle;  of  the  defeat.  It  is  a 
prisoner  sensible  of  his  chains.  It  is  a  soul  tied  and 
and  bound  by  the  fetters  of  its  sins,  and  kno\\'ing  itself 
to  be  so.  It  is  by  no  means  the  case  of  the  ignorant  sin- 
ner: it  is  not  the  case  of  an  erring  mistaken  consci- 
ence :  it  is  not  the  case  of  a  seared  and  hardened  con- 
science. None  of  these  could  make  the  refiectipn,  or 
the  complaint  which  is  here  described.  "  The  com- 
mandment, which  uas  ordained  unto  life,  /found  to 
be  unto  death.  I  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin.  In  me 
dwelleth  no  good  thing.  The  law  is  holy;  and  the  com- 
mandment holy,  just,  and  good:  but  sin,  that  it  might 
appear  sin,  (that  it  might  be  more  conspicuous,  aggra- 
vated, and  inexcusable,)  works  death  in  me  by  that 
which  is  good."  This  language  by  no  means  belongs 
to  the  stupified,  insensible  shmer. 

Nor,  Fifthly,  as  it  cannot  belong  to  an  original  an- 


SERMON  XXVI.  297 

sensibility  of  conscience,  that  is,  an  insensibility  of 
M'hich  the  person  himself  does  not  remember  the  be- 
ginning, so  neither  can  it  belong  to  the  sinner,  who  has 
got  over  the  rebukes,  distrusts  and  uneasiness  which 
sin  oiK?e  occasioned.  True  it  is,  that  this  uneasiness 
may  be  got  over  almost  entirely;  so  that,  whilst  the 
danger  remains  the  same,  whilst  the  final  event  will  be 
the  same,  whilst  the  coming  destruction  is  not  less 
sure  or  dreadful,  the  uneasiness  and  the  apprehension 
ai'e  gone.  This  is  a  case,  too  common,  too  deplorable, 
too  desperate ;  but  it  is  not  the  case  of  which  we  are 
now  treating,  or  of  which  St.  Payl  treated.  Here  we 
are  presented  throughout  with  complaint  and  uneasi- 
ness; and  with  a  soul  exceedingly  dissatisfied,  exceed- 
ingly indeed  disquieted,  and  disturbed,  and  alarmed 
with  the  view  of  its  condition. 

Upon  the  whole,  St.  Paul's  account  is  the  account 
of  a  man  in  some  sort  struggling  with  his  vices;  at 
least,  deeply  conscious  of  what  they  are,  whither  they 
are  leading  him,  where  they  will  end;  acknowledging 
the  law  of  God,  not  onl}-  in  words  and  speeches,  but 
in  his  mind;  acknowledging  its  excellency,  its  autho- 
rity; wishing,  also,  and  willing,  to  act  up  to  it,  but,  in 
fact,  doing  no  such  thing;  feeling,  in  practice,  a  la- 
mentable inability  of  doing  his  duty,  yet  perceiving 
that  it  must  be  done.  All  he  has  hitherto  attained  is  a 
state  of  successive  resolutions  and  relapses.  Much  is 
willed,  nothing  is  effected.  No  furtherance,  no  advance, 
no  progress  is  made  in  the  way  of  salvation.  He  feels, 
indeed,  his  double  nature ;  but  he  finds,  that  the  law 

2? 


298  SERMON  XXVI. 

in  his  members,  the  law  of  the  flesh,  brings  the  whole 
man  into  captivity.  He  may  have  some  better  strivings, 
but  they  are  unsuccessful.  The  result  is  that  he  obeys 
the  law  of  sin. 

I'his  is  the  picture  which  our  Apostle  contemplated, 
and  he  saw  in  it  nothing  but  misery:  "O  wretched 
man  that  I  am !"  another  might  have  seen  it  in  a  more 
comfortable  light.  He  might  have  hoped  that  the  will 
would  be  taken  for  the  deed ;  that,  since  he  felt  in  his 
mind  a  strong  approbation  of  the  law^  of  God;  nay, 
since  he  felt  a  delight  in  contemplating  it,  and  openly 
professed  to  do  so,  since  he  was  neither  ignorant  of  it, 
nor  insensible  of  its  obligation;  nor  ever  set  himself 
to  dispute  its  authority;  nay,  since  he  had  occasionally 
likewise  endeavoured  to  bring  himself  to  an  obedience 
to  this  law,  however  unsuccessful  his  endeavours  had 
been;  above  all,  since  he  has  sincerely  deplored  and 
bewailed  his  fallings  oflT  from  it;  he  might  hope,  I  say, 
that  his  was  a  case  for  favourable  acceptance. 

St.  Paul  saw  it  not  in  this  light.  He  saw  in  it  no 
ground  of  confidence  or  satisfaction.  It  was  a  state,  to 
which  he  gives  no  better  name  than  "the  body  of 
death."  It  was  a  state,  not  in  which  he  hoped  to  be 
saved,  but  from  which  he  sought  to  be  delivered.  It 
was  a  state,  in  a  word,  of  bitterness  and  terror;  draw- 
ing from  him  expressions  of  the  deepest  anguish  and 
distress:  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death?" 


SERMON  XXVIl. 

hVIL  PROPENSITIES  ENCOUNTERED  BY  THE  AID 
OF  THE  SPIRIT. 

(PART  II.) 

Romans,  vii.  24. 

"  0  wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  deathV' 

He,  who  has  not  felt  the  weakness  of  his  nature,  it  is 
probable,  has  reflected  little  upon  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion: I  should  conjecture  this  to  be  the  case. 

But  then,  when  men  do  feel  the  weakness  of  their 
nature,  it  is  not  always  that  this  consciousness  carries 
them  into  a  right  course,  but  sometimes  into  a  course 
the  very  contrary  of  what  is  right.  They  may  see  in  it, 
as  hath  been  observed,  and  many  do  see  in  it,  nothing 
but  an  excuse  and  apology  for  their  sins :  since  it  is 
acknowledged,  tliat  we  carry  aboyt  with  us  a  frail, 
not  to  call  it  a  depraved,  corrupted  nature,  surely, 
they  say,  we  shall  not  be  amenable  to  any  severities, 
or  extremities  of  judgments,  for  delinquencies,  to 
which  such  a  nature  must  ever  be  liable:  or,  which  is 


500  SERMON  XXVII, 

indeed  all  the  difference  there  is  between  one  man  and 
another,  for  greater  degrees  or  less,  for  more  or  fewer, 
of  these  delinquencies.  The  natural  man  takes  courage 
from  this  consideration.  He  finds  ease  in  it.  It  is  an 
opiate  to  his  fears.  It  lulls  him  into  a  forgetfulness  of 
danger,  and  of  the  dreadful  end,  if  the  danger  be  real. 
Then  the  practical  consequence  is,  that  he  begins  to 
relax  even  of  those  endeavours  to  obey  God,  which 
he  has  hitherto  exerted.  Imperfect  and  inconstant  as 
these  endeavours  were  at  best,  they  become  gradually 
more  languid,  and  more  unfrequent,  and  more  insin- 
cere, than  they  were  before:  his  sins  increase  upon 
him  in  the  same  proportion:  he  proceeds  rapidly  to 
the  condition  of  a  confirmed  sinner,  either  secret  or 
open,  it  makes  no  difference,  as  to  his  salvation.  And 
this  descent  into  the  depths  of  moral  vileness  and  de- 
pravity began,  in  some  measure,  with  perceiving  and 
confessing  the  weakness  of  his  nature;  and  giving  to 
this  perception  that  most  erroneous,  that  most  fatal 
turn,  the  regarding  it  as  an  excuse  for  every  thing; 
and  as  dispensing  even  with  the  self-denials,  and  with 
the  exertions  of  self-government,  which  a  man  had 
formerly  thought  it  necessary  to  exercise,  and  in  some 
sort,  though  in  no  sufficient  sort,  had  exercised. 

Now  I  ask,  was  this  St.  Paulas  wav  of  considering: 
the  subject?  Was  this  the  turn  which  lie  gave  to  it? 
Altogether  the  contrary.  It  was  impossible  for  any 
christian,  of  any  age,  to  be  more  deeply  impressed 
with  a  sense  of  the  weakness  of  human  nature,  than 
he  was;  or  to  express  it  more  strongly  than  he  has 


SERMON  XXVII.  301 

done  m  the  chapter  before  us.  But  observe;  feeling 
most  sensibly,  and  painting  most  forcibly  the  sad  con- 
dition of  his  nature,  he  never  alleges  it  as  an  excuse 
for  sin:  he  does  not  console  himself  with  any  such 
excuse.  He  does  not  make  it  a  reason  for  setting 
himself  at  rest  upon  the  subject.  He  finds  no  relief  to 
his  fears  in  any  such  consideration.  It  is  not  with  him 
a  ground  for  expecting  salvation;  on  the  contrary,  he 
sees  it  to  be  a  state  not  leading  to  salvation ;  otherwise, 
why  did  he  seek  so  earnestly  to  be  delivered  from  it? 

And  how  to  be  delivered?  that  becomes  the  next 
question.  In  order  to  arrive  at  St.  Paul's  meaning 
in  this  matter,  we  must  attend,  with  some  degree  of 
care,  not  only  to  the  text,  but  to  the  words  which 
follow  it.  The  24th  verse  contains  the  question, 
"  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death?" 
and  then  the  25th  verse  goes  on,  '*  I  thank  God 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  Now  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe,  that  this  25th  verse  does  not  appeal 
in  our  copies,  as  it  ought  to  be  read.  It  is  most  pro- 
bable, that  the  passage  stood  thus.  The  24th  verse 
asks,  "  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death?"  Then  the  25th  verse  answers,  "  The  grace  of 
God,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  Instead  of  the 
words  "  I  thank  God,"  put  the  words  "  The  grace  of 
God,"  and  )'ou  will  find  the  sense  cleared  up  by  the 
change  very  much.  I  say,  it  is  highly  probable,  that 
this  change  exhibits  what  St.  Paul  really  wrote.  In 
English  there  is  no  resemblance  either  in  sound  or 
writing  between  the  two  sentences,  "  I  thank  God," 


302  SERMON  XXVII. 

and  "  The  grace  of  God;"  but  in  the  language,  in 
which  the  epistle  was  written,  there  is  a  very  great 
resemblence.  And,  as  I  have  said,  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  in  the  transcribing,  one  has  been  confounded 
with  the  other.  Perhaps  the  substantial  meaning  may 
be  the  same,  which  ever  way  you  read  the  passage: 
but  what  is  implied  only  in  one  way,  is  clearly  ex- 
pressed in  the  other  wa}'. 

The  question  then,  which  St.  Paul  so  earnestly 
and  devoutly  asks,  is,  "  Who  shall  deliver  me  from 
this  body  of  death?"  from  the  state  of  soul  which  I 
feel,  and  which  can  only  lead  to  final  perdition?  And 
the  answer  to  the  question  is,  "  The  grace  of  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  Can  a  more  weighty 
question  be  asked?  Can  an  answer  be  given,  which 
better  deserves  to  be  thoroughly  considered? 

The  question  is,  AVho  shall  deliver  us?  The  an- 
swer; "  The  grace  of  God,  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord."  The  "  grace  of  God"  means  the  favour  of 
God:  at  present,  therefore,  the  answer  stands  in  gene- 
ral terms.  We  are  only  informed,  that  wc  are  rescued 
from  this  state  of  moral  difficulty,  of  deep  religious 
distress,  by  the  favour  of  God,  through  Jesus  Christ. 
It  remains  to  be  gathered,  from  what  follows,  in  what 
particularly  this  grace  of  favour  consists.  St.  Paul, 
having  asked  the  question,  and  given  the  answer  in 
o*eneral  terms,  proceeds  to  enlarge  upon  the  answer  in 
these  words,^ — "  There  is,  therefore,  now  no  condem- 
nation to  them,  who  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk,  not 
after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit.  There  is  now  no 


SERMON  XXVI 1.  303 

condemnation:  but  of  whom,  and  to  whom  is  thLs 
spoken?  It  is  to  them,  who,  first,  are  in  Christ  Jesus; 
who,  secondly,  walk  not  after  the  flesh;  who,  thirdly, 
walk  after  the  Spirit. 

And  whence  arises  this  alteration  and  improvement 
in  our  condition  and  our  hopes;  this  exemption,  or 
rather  deliverance,  from  the  ordinary  state  of  man?  St. 
Paul  refers  us  to  the  cause.  "  The  law  of  the  spirit  of 
life  in  Christ  Jesus  hath  made  me  free  from  the  law  of 
sin  and  death,"  which  words  can  hardly  bear  any  other 
signification  than  this,  viz.  "  that  the  aid  and  opera- 
tion of  God's  Spirit,  given  through  Jesus  Christ,  hath 
subdued  the  power  which  sin  had  obtained  and  once 
exercised  over  me."  With  this  interpretation  the 
whole  sequel  of  St.  Paul's  reasoning-  agrees.  Ever} 
sentence  almost,  that  follows,  illustrates  the  interpreta 
tion,  and  proves  it  to  be  the  true  one.  With  what,  but 
with  the  operation  and  the  cooperation  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  as  of  a  real,  efiicient,  powerful,  active  Being,  can 
such  expressions  as  the  following  be  made  to  suit? 
"  If  so  be  that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwell  in  you."  "  If 
any  man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of 
his."  "  If  the  Spirit  of  him  that  raised  up  Jesus  from 
the  dead  dwell  in  you."  "  By  his  Spirit  that  dwelleth 
in  you."  "Ye  have  received  the  Spirit  of  adoption." 
"  The  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our  spirit." 
All  which  expressions  are  found  in  the  eight  chapter, 
namel}^,  the  chapter  following  the  text,  and  all  indeed, 
within  the  compass  of  a  few  verses.  These  passages 
either  assert  or  assume  the  fact,  namely,  the  existence 


304  SERMON  XXVII. 

and  agency  of  such  a  Spirit;  its  agency,  I  mean,  in  and 
upon  the  human  soul.  It  is  by  the  aid,  therefore,  of  this 
Spirit,  that  the  deliverance  so  earnestly  sought  for  is 
effected;  a  deliverance  represented  as  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  be  effected  in  some  way  or  other.  And  it  is 
also  represented,  as  one  of  the  grand  benefits  of  the 
christian  dispensation,  "  What  the  law  could  not  do 
in  that  it  was  weak  through  the  flesh,  God  sending  his 
own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh,  and  for  sin, 
condemned  sin  in  the  flesh,  that  the  righteousness  of 
the  law  might  be  fulfilled  in  us,  who  walk  not  after 
the  flesh  but  after  the  Spirit."  Which  passage  I  ex- 
pound thus:  a  mere  law,  that  is,  a  rule  merely  telling 
us  what  we  ought  to  do,  without  enabling  us,  or  af- 
fording us  any  help  or  aid  in  doing  it,  is  not  calculated 
for  such  a  nature  as  ours:  "it  is  weak  through  the 
flesh:"  it  is  ineflfectual  by  reason  of  our  natural  infir- 
mities. Then  what  the  law,  or  a  mere  rule  of  recti- 
tude (for  that  is  what  any  law,  as  such,  is,)  could  not 
do,  was  done  under  the  christian  dispensation:  and 
how  done?  The  righteousness  of  the  law,  that  is,  the 
righteousness,  which  the  law  dictated,  and  which  it 
aimed,  as  far  as  it  could,  to  procure  and  produce,  is 
fulfilled  in  us,  ^vho  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after 
the  Spirit;  is  actually  produced  and  procured  in  us, 
who  live  under  the  influence  and  direction  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  By  this  Holy  Spirit  we  have  that  assistance, 
which  the  law  could  not  impart,  and  without  Avhich, 
as  a  mere  rule,  though  ever  so  good  and  right  a  rule, 
it  was  weak  and  insufficient,  forasmuch  as  it  had  not 


SERMON  XXVII.  S05 

force  or  strength  sufficient  to  produce  obedience  in 
those  who  acknowledged  its  authority. 

To  communicate  this  so  much  wanted  assistance 
was  one  end  and  effect  of  Christ's  coming.  So  it  is 
intimated  by  St.  Paul,  *'  what  the  law  could  not  do,  in 
that  it  was  weak  through  the  flesh,  God  did:"  that  is, 
God  sendmg  his  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful 
flesh,  and  for  sin,  namely,  sending  him  by  reason,  or 
on  account  of  sin,  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh ;  vouch- 
safed, that  is,  spiritual  aid  and  ability,  by  which  aid 
and  ability  sin,  and  the  power  of  sin,  might  be  effec- 
tually opposed,  encountered,  and  repelled. 


^Q 


SERMON  XXVIIl, 

THE  AID  OF  THE  SPIRIT  TO  BE  SOUGHT  AND 
PRESERVED  BY  PRAYER. 

(PART  III.) 

Romans,  vii.  24. 

"'  0  7V retched  man  that  I  am!  who  sliall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death?'''' 

If  it  be  doctrinally  true,  that  man  in  his  ordinary 
state,  in  that  state,  at  least,  in  which  great  numbers 
find  themselves,  is  in  a  deplorable  condition,  a  condi- 
tion which  ought  to  be  a  subject  to  him  of  great  and 
bitter  lamentation,  viz.  that  his  moral  powers  are  in- 
effectual for  his  duty;  able,  perhaps,  on  most  occasions, 
to  perceive  and  to  approve  of  the  rule  of  right;  able, 
perhaps,  to  will  it;  able,  perhaps,  to  set  on  foot  unsuc- 
cessful, frustrated,  and  defeated  endeavours  after  that 
will,  but  by  no  means  able  to  pursue  or  execute  it: — 
if  it  be  also  true,  that  strength  and  assistance  may  and 
can  be  communicated  to  this  feeble  nature,  and  that  it 
is  by  the  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  soul,  that 
it  is  so  communicated ;  that  with  this  aid  and  assistance 
sin  may  be  successfully  encountered,  and  such  a  course 
of  duty  maintained,  as  may  render  us   accepted  in 


SERMON  XXVIII.  307 

Christ:  and  further,  that  to  impart  the  above  described 
assistance  is  one  of  the  ends  of  Christ's  coming,  and 
one  of  the  operations  of  his  love  towards  mankind: — 
if,  I  say,  these  propositions  be  doctrinally  true,  then 
follow  from  them  these  three  practical  rules:  first,  that 
we  are  to  pray  sincerely,  earnestly,  and  incessantly  for 
this  assistance;  secondly,  that,  by  so  doing,  we  are  to 
obtain  it;  thirdly,  that,  being  obtained,  we  are  to  yield 
ourselves  to  its  agency,  to  be  obedient  to  its  dictates. 

First:  We  are  to  pray  sincerely,  earnestly,  and  in- 
cessantly for  this  assistance.  A  fundamental,  and  as  it 
seems  to  me,  an  unsurmountable  text,  upon  this  head, 
is  our  Saviour's  declaration,  (Luke  xi.  13.)  "  If  ye, 
being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your 
children,  how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father 
give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him?"  This  de- 
claration, beside  expressing,  (which  was  its  primary 
object,)  God's  benignant,  prompt,  and  merciful  dis- 
position towards  us;  which  here,  as  in  other  places, 
our  Saviour  compares  with  the  disposition  of  a  parent 
towards  his  children.  Beside  this,  the  text  undoubted- 
ly assumes  the  fact  of  there  being  a  Holy  Spirit,  of  its 
being  the  gift  of  God,  of  its  being  given  to  them  that 
ask  him;  that  these  things  are  all  realities;  a  real  spi- 
ritual assistance,  really  given,  and  given  to  prayer.  But 
let  it  be  well  observed,  that  whensoever  the  scripture 
speaks  of  prayer,  whensoever  it  uses  that  term,  or  other 
terms  equivalent  to  it,  it  means  prayer,  sincere  and 
earnest,  in  the  full  and  proper  sense  of  these  words, 
prayer  proceeding  from  the  heart  and  soul.  It  does  not 


308  SERMON  XXVIII. 

mean  any  particular  form  of  words  whatever;  it  docs 
not  mean  any  service  of  the  lips,  any  utterance  or  pro- 
nunciation  of  prayer,  merely  as  such;  but  supplica- 
tion actually  and  truly  proceeding  from  the  heart.  — ■ 
Prayer  may  be  solemn  without  being  sincere.  Every 
decency,  every  propriety,  every  visible  mark  and  to- 
ken of  prayer  may  be  present,  yet  the  heart  not  engag- 
ed. This  is  the  requisite  which  must  make  prayer 
availing:  this  is  the  requisite  indeed,  which  must  make 
it  that,  which  the  scripture  means,  whenever  it  speaks 
of  prayer.  Every  outward  act  of  worship,  without  this 
participation  of  the  heart,  fails,  not  because  men  do  not 
pray  sincerely,  but  because,  in  scripture  sense,  they 
do  not  pray  at  all. 

If  these  qualities  of  internal  seriousness  and  impres- 
sion belong  to  prayer,  whenever  prayer  is  mentioned 
in  scripture,  they  seem  more  pecufiarly  essential,  in  a 
case  and  for  a  blessing,  purely  and  strictly  spiritual. 
We  must  pray  with  the  Spirit,  at  least  when  we  pray 
for  spiritual  succour. 

Furthermore,  there  is  good  authority  in  scripture, 
which  it  would  carry  us  too  widely  from  our  subject 
to  state  at  present,  for  persevering  in  prayer,  even 
when  long  unsuccessful.  Perseverance  in  unsuccessful 
prayer  is  one  of  the  doctrines  and  of  the  lessons  of 
the  New  Testament. 

But  again;  we  must  pray  for  the  Spirit  earnestly; 
I  mean  with  a  degree  of  earnestness,  proportioned  to 


SERMON  XXVlIL  309 

the  magnitude  of  the  request.  The  earnestness,  with 
which  we  pray,  will  always  be  in  proportion  to  our 
sense,  knowledge,  and  consciousness  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  thing  which  we  ask.  This  consciousness 
is  the  source  and  principle  of  earnestness  in  prayer; 
and  in  this,  I  fear,  we  are  greatly  deficient.  We  do 
not  possess  or  feel  it  in  the  manner,  in  which  we 
ought:  and  we  are  deficient  upon  the  subject  of  spiri- 
tual  assistance  most  particularly.  I  fear,  that  many  un- 
derstand and  reflect  little  upon  the  importance  of  what 
they  are  about,  upon  the  exceedingly  great  conse- 
quence of  what  they  are  asking,  when  they  pray  to 
God,  as  we  do  in  our  liturgy,  "  to  cleanse  the  thoughts 
of  our  hearts  by  the  inspiration  of  his  Holy  Spirit;" 
"  to  make  clean  our  hearts  within  us;"  "  not  to  take  his 
Holy  Spirit  from  us;  to  give  us  increase  of  grace;  to 
grant  that  his  Holy  Spirit  may  in  all  things  direct  and 
rule  our  hearts." 

These  are  momentous  petitions,  little  as  we  may 
perceive,  or  think,  or  account  of  them,  at  the  time.  It 
has  been  truly  said,  that  we  are  hardly  ever  certain  of 
praying  aright,  except  when  we  pray  for  the  Spirit  of 
God.  When  we  pray  for  temporal  blessings,  we  do 
not  know,  though  God  does,  whether  we  ask  what  is 
really  for  our  good :  when  we  ask  for  the  assistance 
and  sanctification  of  God's  Spirit  in  the  work  and  war- 
fare of  religion,  we  ask  for  that,  which  by  its  very  na- 
ture is  good,  and  which,  without  our  great  ftmlt,  will 
be  good  to  us. 


310  *       SERMON  XXVIII. 

But  secondly:  We  must  obtain  it.  God  is  propitious. 
You  hear  that  he  has  promised  it  to  prayer,  to  prayer 
really  and  truly  such,  to  prayer,  viz.  issuing  from  the 
heart  and  soul;  for  no  other  is  ever  meant.  We  arc 
suppliants  to  our  Maker  for  various  and  continual 
blessings;  for  health,  for  ease;  it  may  be,  for  prosperity 
and  success.  There  is,  as  hath  already  been  observed, 
some  degree  of  uncertainty  in  all  these  cases,  whether 
we  ask  what  is  fit  and  proper  to  be  granted;  or  even, 
what,  if  granted,  would  do  us  good.  There  is  this, 
likewise,  further  to  be  observed,  that  they  are  what,  if 
such  be  the  pleasure  of  God,  we  can  do  without.  But 
how  incapable  we  are  of  doing  without  God's  Spirit; 
of  proceeding  in  our  spiritual  course  upon  our  own 
strength  and  our  own  resources;  of  finally  accomplish- 
ing the  work  of  salvation  without  it ;  the  strong  de- 
scription, which  is  given  by  St.  Paul,  may  convince 
us,  if  our  own  experience  had  not  convinced  us  before. 
Many  of  us,  a  large  majority  of  us,  either  require,  or 
have  required,  a  great  change,  a  moral  regeneration. 
This  is  to  be  effectuated  by  the  aid  of  God's  Spirit. 
Vitiated  hearts  will  not  change  themselves;  not  easily, 
not  frequently,  not  naturally,  perhaps,  not  possibly. 
Yet,  "  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  God."  How 
then  are  the  unholy  to  become  holy?  Holiness  is  a  thing 
of  the  heart  and  soul.  It  is  not  a  few  forced,  constrained 
actions,  though  good  as  actions  which  constitute  holi- 
ness. It  must  reside  within  us;  it  is  a  disposition  of 
soul.  To  acquire,  therefore,  that  which  is  not  yet  ac- 
quired; to  change  that  which  is  not  yet  changed;  to  go 


SERMON  XXVIII.  311 

to  the  root  of  the  malady;  to  cleanse  and  purify  the 
inside  of  the  cup,  the  foulness  of  our  mind,  is  a  work 
for  the  Spirit  of  God  within  us.  Nay  more;  many,  as 
the  scripture  most  significantly  expresses  it,  are  dead 
in  sins  and  trespasses,  not  only  committing  sins  and 
trespasses,  but  dead  in  them :  that  is,  as  insensible  of 
their  condition  under  them,  as  a  dead  man  is  insensi- 
ble of  his  condition.  Where  this  is  the  case,  the  sin- 
ner must,  in  the  first  instance,  be  roused  and  quick- 
ened to  a  sense  of  his  condition;  of  his  danger,  his 
fate;  in  a  word,  he  must,  by  some  means  or  other,  be 
brought  to  feel  a  strong  compunction.  This  is  also  an 
oifice  for  the  Spirit  of  God.  "  You  hath  he  quickened, 
who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  (Eph.  ii.  1.) 
"  Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead, 
and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light."  (Eph.  v.  14.)  Whe- 
ther, therefore,  we  be  amongst  the  dead  in  sin;  or 
whether  we  be  of  the  number  of  those,  with  whom, 
according  to  St.  Paul's  description,  to  will  is  present, 
but  how  to  perform  that  which  is  good  they  find  not; 
who,  though  they  approve  the  law  of  God,  nay  delight 
in  it,  after  the  inward  man,  that  is,  in  the  answers  of 
their  conscience,  are  nevertheless,  brought  into  capti- 
vity to  the  law  of  sin,  which  is  in  their  members;  car- 
nal, sold  under  sin ;  doing  what  they  allow  not,  vv^hat 
they  hate;  doing  not  the  good  which  they  would,  but 
the  evil  which  they  would  not:  which  ever  of  these  be 
our  wretched  estate,  for  such  the  Apostle  pronounces 
it  to  be,  the  grace  and  influence  of  God's  Spirit  must 
be  obtained,  in  order  to  rescue  and  deliver  us  from  it. 


312  SERMON  XXVIII. 

and  the  sense  of  this  want  and  of  this  necessity  lies  at 
the  root  of  our  devotions,  when  directed  to  this  object. 

To  those,  who  are  in  a  better  state  than  what  has  been 
here  described,  little  need  be  said,  because  the  very 
supposition  of  their  being  in  a  better  state  includes  that 
earnest  and  devout  application  by  prayer  for  the  con- 
tinual aid,  presence,  and  in-dwelling  of  God's  Holy 
Spirit,  which  we  state  to  be  a  duty  of  the  christian  re- 
ligion. 

But  thirdly:  The  assistance  of  God's  Spirit  being 
obtained,  we  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  its  direction;  to 
consult,  attend,  and  listen  to  its  dictates,  suggested  to 
us  through  the  admonitions  of  our  conscience.  The 
terms  of  scripture  represent  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  an 
assisting,  not  forcing,  power;  as  not  suspending  our 
own  powers,  but  enabling  them;  as  imparting  strength 
and  faculty  for  our  religious  work,  if  we  will  use  them; 
but  whether  we  will  use  them  or  not,  still  depending 
upon  ourselves.  Agreeably  hereunto  St.  Paul,  you 
have  heard,  asserts,  that  there  is  no  condemnation 
to  them,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the 
Spirit.  The  promise  is  not  to  them,  who  have  the 
Spirit,  but  to  them,  who  walk  after  the  Spirit.  To 
walk  after  the  flesh,  is  to  follow  wherever  the  im- 
pulses of  sensuality  and  selfishness  lead  us;  which  is  a 
voluntary  act.  To  walk  after  the  Spirit,  is  steadily  and 
resolutely  to  obey  good  motions  within  us,  whatever 
they  cost  us:  which  also  is  a  voluntary  act.  All  the 


SERMON  XXVIII.  313 

language  of  this  remarkable  chapter  (Rom.  vii.)  pro- 
ceeds in  the  same  train;  namely,  that  after  the  Spirit 
of  God  is  given,  it  remains  and  rests  with  ourselves 
whether  we  avail  ourselves  of  it  or  not.  "  If  ye  through 
the  Spirit  do  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  flesh  ye  shall 
live."  It  is  through  the  Spirit  that  we  are  enabled  to 
mortify  the  deeds  of  the  flesh.  But  still,  whether  we 
mortify  them  or  not,  is  our  act,  because  it  is  made  a 
subject  of  precept  and  exhortation  so  to  do.  Health  is 
God's  gift:  but  what  use  we  will  make  of  it,  is  our 
choice.  Bodily  strength  is  God's  gift:  but  of  what 
advantage  it  shall  be  to  us,  depends  upon  ourselves. 
Even  so,  the  higher  gift  of  the  Spirit  remains  a  gift, 
the  value  of  which  will  be  exceedingly  great;  will  be 
little;  will  be  none;  will  be  even  an  increase  of  guilt 
and  condemnation,  according  as  it  is  applied  and 
obeyed,  or  neglected  and  withstood.  The  fourth  chap- 
ter of  Ephesians  (verse  30.)  is  a  warning  voice  upon 
this  subject.  "  Grieve  not  the  Spirit  of  God:"  there- 
fore he  may  be  grieved:  being  given,  he  may  be  re- 
jected; rejected,  he  may  be  withdrawn. 

St.  Paul  (Rom.  viii. )  represents  the  gift  and  pos- 
session of  the  Spirit  in  these  words.  "  Ye  are  not  in 
the  flesh,  but  in  the  Spirit,  if  so  be  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  dwell  in  you:"  and  its  efficacy,  where  it  is  effica- 
cious, in  the  following  magnificent  terms:  "  If  the 
Spirit  of  him  that  raised  Christ  from  the  dead  dwell 
in  you,  he  tliat  raised  up  Christ  from  the  dead  shall 
also  quicken  your  mortal  bodies,  by  his  Spirit  that 

2R 


314  SERMON  XXVIII. 

dwelleth  in  you. "  What,  nevertheless,  is  the  practical 
inference  therefrom  stated  in  the  very  next  words? 
"  Therefore,  brethern,  we  are  debtors,  not  to  the  flesh, 
to  live  after  the  flesh,  for  if  ye  live  after  the  flesh, 
ye  shall  die:"  consequently  it  is  still  possible,  and 
plainly  conceived,  and  supposed,  and  stated  to  be  so, 
even  after  this  communication  of  the  Spirit,  to  live, 
notwithstanding,  according  to  the  flesh :  and  still  true, 
that,  if  ye  live  after  the  flesh,  ye  shall  die.  "  We  are 
debtors;"  our  obligation,  our  duty  imposed  upon  us 
by  this  gift  of  the  Spirit,  is  no  longer  to  live  after  the 
flesh;  but,  on  the  contrary,  through  the  Spirit  so  given, 
to  do  that,  which,  Vvithout  it,  we  could  not  have  done, 
to  "  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body."  Thus  following 
the  suggestions  of  the  Spirit,  ye  shall  live:  for  "  as 
many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,"  as  many  as 
yield  themselves  to  its  guidance  and  direction,  "  they 
are  the  sons  of  God." 

To  conclude  the  subject.  The  difterence  between 
those  who  succeed,  and  those  who  fail  in  their  chris- 
tian course,  between  those  who  obtain,  and  those  who 
do  not  obtain  salvation,  is  this :  They  may  both  feel 
equally  the  weakness  of  their  nature,  the  existence 
and  the  power  of  evil  propensities  within  them;  but 
the  former  by  praying  with  their  whole  heart  and  soul, 
and  that  perseveringly,  for  spiritual  assistance,  obtain 
it;  and,  by  the  aid  so  obtained,  are  enabled  to  with- 
stand, and  do,  in  fact,  withstand,  their  evil  propensi- 
ties; the  latter  sink  under  them.  I  will  not  say  that 


SERMON  XXVllI.  315 

all  arc  comprised  under  this  description:  for  neither 
are  all  included  in  St.  Paul's  account  of  the  matter, 
from  which  our  discourse  set  out;  but  I  think,  that  it 
represents  the  general  condition  of  christians,  as  to 
their  spiritual  state,  and  that  the  greatest  part  of  those, 
who  read  this  discourse,  will  find,  that  they  belong  to 
one  side  or  other  of  the  alternative  here  stated. 


SERMON  XXIX. 

THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  CANAANITES. 

Joshua,  x.  40. 

"  So  Joshua  smote  all  the  country  of  the  hills ^  and  of 
the  souths  and  of  the  vale,  and  of  the  springs,  and  all 
their  kings;  he  left  none  remaining,  hut  utterly  des- 
troyed all  that  breathed,  as  the  Lord  God  of  Israel 
commanded.^^ 

1  HA\^E  known  serious  and  well  disposed  christians 
much  affected  with  the  accounts,  which  are  delivered 
in  the  Old  Testament,  of  the  Jewish  wars  and  dealings 
with  the  inhabitants  of  Canaan.  From  the  Israelites 
first  setting  foot  in  that  country,  to  their  complete  es- 
tablishment in  it,  which  takes  up  the  whole  book  of 
Joshua  and  part  of  the  book  of  Judges,  we  read,  it 
must  be  confessed,  of  massacres  and  desolations  un- 
like what  are  practised, now  a  days  betvveen  nations  at 
war,  of  cities  and  districts  laid  waste,  of  the  inhabi- 
tants being  totally  destroyed,  and  this,  as  it  is  alleged 
in  the  history,  by  the  authority  and  command  of  Al- 
mighty God.    Some  have  been  induced  to  think  such 


SERMON  XXIX.  317 

accounts  incredible,  inasmuch  as  such  conduct  could 
never,  they  say,  be  authorized  by  the  good  and  merci- 
ful Governor  of  the  universe. 

I  intend  in  the  following  discourse  to  consider  this 
matter,  so  far  as  tb  show,  that  these  transactions  were 
calculated  for  a  beneficial  purpose,  and  for  the  gene- 
ral advantage  of  mankind;  and,  being  so  calculated, 
were  not  inconsistent  either  with  the  justice  of  God, 
or  with  the  usual  proceedings  of  divine  providence. 

Now  the  first  and  chief  thing  to  be  observed  is,  that 
the  nations  of  Canaan  were  destroyed  for  their  wick- 
edness. In  proof  of  this  point,  I  produce  the  18th 
chapter  of  Leviticus,  the  24th  and  the  following  verses. 
Moses,  in  this  chapter,  after  laying  down  prohibitions 
against  brutal  and  abominable  vices,  proceeds  in  the 
24th  verse  thus — "  Defile  not  yourselves  in  any  of 
these  things,  for  in  all  these  the  nations  are  defiled, 
which  I  cast  out  before  you,  and  the  land  is  defiled; 
therefore  I  do  visit  the  iniquity  thereof  upon  it,  and 
the  land  itself  vomiteth  out  her  inhabitants.  Ye  shall 
therefore  keep  my  statutes  and  my  judgments,  and 
shall  not  commit  any  of  these  abominations,  neither 
any  of  your  own  nation,  nor  any  stranger  that  so- 
journeth  among  you :  for  all  these  abominations  have 
the  men  of  the  land  done,  which  were  before  you,  and 
the  land  is  defiled,  that  the  land  vomit  not  you  out  also, 
when  ye  defile  it,  as  it  vomited  out  the  nations  that 
were  before  you.  For  whosoever  shall  commit  any  of 
these  abominations,  even  the  souls  that  commit  them 


318  SERMON  XXIX. 

shall  be  cut  off  from  amongst  their  people.  Therefore 
shall  ye  keep  my  ordinances  that  ye  commit  not  any 
of  these  abominable  customs,  which  were  committed 
before  you ;  and  that  you  defile  not  yourselves  there- 
in." Now  the  facts,  disclosed  in  this  passage,  are  for 
our  present  purpose  extremely  material  and  extremely 
satisfactory.  First,  the  passage  testifies  the  principal 
point,  namely,  that  the  Canaanites  were  the  wicked 
people  we  represent  them  to  be;  and  that  this  point 
does  not  rest  upon  supposition,  but  upon  proof:  in 
particular,  the  following  words  contain  an  express  as- 
sertion of  the  guilt  of  that  people.  "  In  all  these  the 
nations  are  defiled,  which  I  cast  out  before  you;  for 
all  these  abominations  have  the  men  of  the  land  done." 
Secondly,  the  form  and  turn  of  expression  seems  to 
show,  that  these  detestable  practices  were  general 
amongst  them,  and  habitual:  they  are  said  to  be  abo- 
minable customs  which  \vere  committed.  Now  the 
word  custom  is  not  applicable  to  a  few  single,  or  ex- 
traordinary instances,  but  to  usage  and  to  national 
character,  which  argues,  that  not  only  the  practice, 
but  the  sense  and  notion,  of  morality  was  corrupted 
amongst  them,  or  lost;  and  it  is  observable,  that  these 
practices,  so  far  from  being  checked  by  their  religion, 
formed  a  part  of  it.  They  are  described  not  only  un- 
der the  name  of  abominations,  but  of  abominations 
which  they  have  done  unto  their  gods.  What  a  state 
of  national  morals  must  that  have  been !  Thirdly, 
The  passage  before  us  positively  and  directly  asserts, 
that  it  was  for  these  sins  that  the  nations  of  Canaan 
were  destroyed.  This,  in  my  judgment,  is  the  impor- 


SERMON  XXIX.  319 

umt  part  of  the  inqiiir}-.  And  what  do  the  words  un- 
der consideration  declare?  "In  all  these,  namely,  the 
odious  and  brutal  vices,  which  had  been  spoken  of, 
the  nations  are  defiled,  which  I  cast  out  before  you  : 
and  the  land  is  defiled:  therefore  I  do  visit  the  iniquity 
thereof  upon  it."  This  is  the  reason  and  cause  of  the 
calamities  which  I  bring  on  it.  The  land  itself  vomiteth 
out  her  inhabitants.  The  very  land  is  sick  of  its  inha- 
lants; of  their  odious  and  brutal  practices;  of  their 
corruption  and  wickedness.  This,  and  no  other,  was 
the  reason  for  destroying  them.  This,  and  no  other,  is 
the  reason  here  alleged.  It  was  not,  as  hath  been  ima- 
gined, to  make  way  for  the  Israelites:  nor  was  it  sim- 
ply for  their  idolatry.  It  appears  to  me  extremely  pro- 
bable, that  idolatry  in  those  times  led,  in  all  countries, 
to  the  vices  here  described:  and  also  that  the  detesta- 
tion, threats,  and  severities,  expressed  against  idolatrj 
in  the  Old  Testament,  were  not  against  idolatry  sim 
ply,  or  considered  as  an  erroneous  religion,  but  against 
the  abominable  crimes,  which  usually  accompanied  it. 
I  think  it  quite  certain,  that  the  case  was  so  in  the  na- 
tions of  Canaan. — Fourthly,  It  appears  from  the  pas- 
sage before  us,  and  what  is  surely  of  great  conse- 
quence to  the  question,  that  God's  abhorrence  and 
God's  treatment  of  these  crimes  were  impartial,  with- 
out distinction,  and  without  respect  of  nations  or  per 
sons.  The  words,  which  point  out  the  divine  impar- 
tiality, are  those,  in  which  Moses  warns  the  Israelites 
against  falling  into  any  of  the  like  wicked  courses; 
^'  that  the  land,"  says  he  "  cast  not  you  out  also,  when 
you  defile  it,  as  it  cast  out  the  nations  that  were  before 


320  SERMON  XXIX. 

you;  for  whoever  shall  commit  any  of  these  abomina- 
tions, even  the  souls,  that  commit  them,  shall  be  cut 
off  from  among  their  people."  The  Jews  are  some- 
times called  the  chosen  and  favoured  people  of  God, 
and,  in  a  certain  sense,  and  for  some  purposes,  they 
were  so;  yet  is  this  very  people,  both  in  this  place, 
and  in  other  places,  over  and  over  again  reminded, 
that  if  they  followed  the  same  practices,  they  must 
expect  the  same  fate.  "Ye  shall  not  walk  in  the  way 
of  the  nations  which  I  cast  out  before  you :  for  they 
committed  all  those  things,  and  therefore  I  abhorred 
them;  as  the  nations  which  the  Lord  destroyed  before 
your  face,  so  shall  ye  perish;  because  ye  were  not  obe- 
dient unto  the  voice  of  the  Lord  your  God." 

What  farther  proves,  not  only  the  justice,  but  the 
clemency  of  God,  his  long  suffering,  and  that  it  was 
the  incorrigible  wickedness  of  those  nations,  which 
at  last  drew  down  upon  them  their  destruction,  is,  that 
he  suspended,  as  we  may  so  say,  the  stroke,  till  their 
wickedness  was  come  to  such  a  pitch,  that  they  were 
no  longer  to  be  endured.  In  the  15th  chapter  of  Gene- 
sis God  tells  Abraham,  that  his  descendents  of  the 
fourth  generation  should  return  into  that  country,  and 
not  before:  "  for  the  iniquity,  saith  he,  of  the  Amo- 
rites  is  not  yet  full."  It  should  seem  from  hence  that 
so  long  as  their  crimes  were  confined  within  any 
bounds,  they  were  permitted  to  remain  in  their  country. 
We  conclude  therefore,  and  we  are  well  warranted  in 
concludinsr,  that  the  Canaanites  were  destroyed  on  ac- 
count  of  their  wickedness.  And  that  wickedness  was 


SKRMON  XXIX.  321 

perhaps  ag-gnivated  by  their  havmg  had  amongst  them 
Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob ;  examples  of  a  purer  reli- 
gion and  a  better  conduct;  still  more  by  the  judgments 
of  God  so  remarkably  set  before  them  in  the  history 
of  Abraham's  family;  particularly  by  the  destruction 
of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah ;  at  least  these  things  prove 
that  they  were  not  without  w^-irning,  and  that  God  did 
not  leave  himself  without  witness  among  them. 

Now  when  God,  for  the  wickedness  of  a  people, 
sends  an  earthquake,  or  a  fire,  or  a  plague  among  them, 
there  is  no  complaint  of  injustice,  especially  when  the 
calamity  is  known,  or  expressly  declared  before  hand, 
to  be  inflicted  for  the  wickedness  of  such  people.  It  is 
rather  regarded  as  an  act  of  exemplary  penal  justice, 
and,  as  such,  consistent  with  the  character  of  the  mo- 
ral Governor  of  the  universe.  The  objection,  therefore, 
is  not  to  the  Canaanitish  nations  being  destroyed :  (for 
when  their  national  wickedness  is  considered,  and 
when  that  is  expressly  stated,  as  the  cause  of  their 
destruction,  the  dispensation,  however  severe,  will  not 
be  questioned;)  but  the  objection  is  solely  to  the  man- 
ner of  destroying  them. — I  mean  there  is  nothing  but 
the  manner  left  to  be  objected  to:  their  wickedness 
accounts  for  the  thing  itself.  To  which  objection  it 
may  be  replied,  that  if  the  thing  itself  be  just,  the 
manner  is  of  little  signification :  of  little  signification 
even  to  the  sufferers  themselves.  For  where  is  the 
great  difference,  even  to  them,  whether  they  were 
destroyed  b-  an  earthquake,  a  pestilence,  a  famine,  or 

2S 


322  SERMON  XXIX 

by  the  lumdi  of  an  encni}-'?  Where  is  the  difterencc. 
even  to  our  imperfect  apprehensions  of  divine  justice, 
provided  it  be,  and  is  known  to  be,  for  their  wicked- 
ness thut  they  are  destroyed? — But  this  destruction, 
3'ou  say,  confounded  the  innocent  ;vith  the  guihy. 
The  sw  ord  of  Joshua,  and  of  the  Jew  s,  spared  neither 
■women  nor  children.  Is  it  not  the  same  with  all  other 
national  visitations?  Would  not  an  earthquake,  or  a 
fire,  or  a  plague,  or  a  famine  amongst  them  have  done 
the  same?  Even  in  an  ordinary  and  natural  death  the 
same  thing  happens.  God  takes  away  the  life  he  lends, 
without  regard,  that  we  can  perceive,  to  age,  or  sex, 
or  character.  But,  after  all,  promiscuous  massacres, 
tiie  burning  of  cities,  the  laying  waste  of  countries,  arc 
things  dreadful  to  reflect  upon,  Vvlio  doubts  it?  so  are 
all  the  judgments  of  Almighty  God.  The  effect,  in 
whatever  way  it  shows  itself,  must  necessarily  be  tre- 
mendous, when  the  Lord,  as  the  Psalmist  expresses 
it,  "  moveth  out  of  his  place  to  punish  the  wicked." 
But  it  ought  to  satisfy  us:  at  least  this  is  the  point, 
upon  which  we  ought  to  rest  and  fix  our  attention; 
that  it  was  for  excessive,  vvilful,  and  forewarned  wick- 
edness, that  all  this  befel  them,  and  that  it  is  expressly 
so  declared  in  the  history,  which  recites  it. 

But  further,  if  punishing  them  by  the  hands  of  the 
Israelites  rather  than  by  a  pestilence,  an  earthquake, 
a  fire,  or  any  such  calamity,  be  still  an  objection,  M^e 
may  perceive,  I  think,  some  reasons  for  this  method 
of  punishment  in  preference  to  any  other  whatever;  al- 


SERMON  XXIX.  S2S 

ways,  however,  bearing  in  our  mind,  that  the  question 
is  not  concerning  the  justice  of  the  punishment,  but 
the  mode  of  it.  It  is  well  known,  that  the  people  of 
those  ages  were  affected  by  no  proof  of  the  power  ol 
the  gods,  which  they  worshipped,  so  deeply,  as  b} 
their  giving  them  victory  in  war.  It  was  by  this  spe- 
cies of  evidence,  that  the  superiority  of  their  own  god 
above  the  gods  of  the  nations,  which  they  conquered, 
was  in  their  opinion  evinced.  This  being  the  actual 
persuasion,  which  then  prevailed  in  the  world,  no 
matter  whether  well  or  ill  founded,  how  were  tlic 
neighbouring  nations,  for  whose  admonition  this  dread- 
ful example  was  intended,  how  were  they  to  be  con- 
vinced of  the  supreme  power  of  the  God  of  Israel 
above  the  pretended  gods  of  other  nations,  and  of  the 
righteous  character  of  Jehovah,  that  is,  of  his  abhor- 
rence of  the  vices,  which  prevailed  in  the  land  of 
Canaan?  how,  I  say,  were  they  to  be  convinced  so 
well,  or  at  all  indeed,  as  by  enabling  the  Israelites, 
whose  God  he  was  known  and  acknowledared  to  be, 
to  conquer  under  his  banner,  and  drive  out  before 
them,  those,  who  resisted  the  execution  of  that  com- 
.mission,  with  which  the  Israelites  declared  themselves 
to  be  invested,  the  expulsion  and  extermination  of  the 
Canaanitish  nations?  This  convinced  surrounding 
countries,  and  all  who  were  observers,  or  spectators 
of  what  passed,  first,  that  the  God  of  Israel  was  a  real 
God;  secondly,  that  the  gods,  which  other  nations  wor- 
shipped, were  either  no  gods,  or  had  no  power  against 
the  God  of  Israel;  and  thirdly,  that  it  was  he,  and  he 


S24>  SERiMON  XXIX. 

alone  who  possessed  both  the  power  and  the  will,  to 
punish,  to  destroy,  and  to  exterminate  from  before 
his  face,  both  nations  and  individuals,  who  gave  them- 
selves up  to  the  crimes  and  wickedness  for  which  the 
Canaanites  were  notorious.  Nothing  of  this  sort  would 
have  appeared,  or  with  the  same  evidence  however, 
from  an  earthquake,  or  a  plague,  or  any  natural  ca- 
lamity. These  might  not  have  been  attributed  to 
divine  agency  at  all,  or  not  to  the  interposition  of  the 
God  of  Israel. 

Another  reason,  which  made  this  destruction  both 
more  necessar}^  and  more  general  than  it  would  have 
otlrervvise  been,  was  the  consideration,  that  if  any  of 
the  old  inhabitants  were  left,  they  would  prove  a  snare 
to  those,  who  succeeded  them  in  the  country;  would 
draw  and  seduce  them  by  degrees  into  the  vices  and 
corruptions,  which  prevailed  amongst  themselves. 
Vice  of  all  kind,  but  vice  most  particularly  of  the 
licentious  kind,  is  astonishingly  infectious.  A  little 
leaven  leaveneth  the  whole  lump.  A  small  number  of 
persons,  addicted  to  them  and  allowed  to  practise  them 
with  impunity  or  encouragement,  will  spread  them 
through  the  whole  mass.  This  reason  is  formally  and 
expressly  assigned,  not  simply  for  the  punishment,  but 
the  extent  to  which  it  was  carried ;  namely,  extermina- 
tion.  "  Thou  shalt  utterly  destroy  them,  that  they 
teach  you  not  to  do  after  all  their  abominations,  which 
they  have  done  unto  their  gods." 


SERMON  XXIX.  325 

To  conclude;  In  reading  the  Old  Testament  account 
of  the  Jewish  wars  and  conquests  in  Canaan,  and  the 
terrible  destruction  brought  upon  the  inhabitants 
thereof,  we  are  constantly  to  bear  in  our  minds,  that 
we  are  reading  the  execution  of  a  dreadful,  but  just, 
sentence,  pronounced  by  God  against  the  intolerable 
and  incorrigible  crimes  of  these  nations — that  they 
were  intended  to  be  made  an  example  to  the  whole 
world  of  God's  avenging  wrath  against  sins  of  this 
magnitude  and  this  kind:  sins,  which,  if  they  had 
been  suffered  to  continue,  might  have  polluted  the 
whole  ancient  world,  and  which  could  only  be  checked 
by  the  signal  and  public  overthrow  of  nations  noto- 
riously addicted  to  them,  and  so  addicted,  as  to  have 
incorporated  them  even  into  their  religion  and  their 
public  institutions;  that  the  miseries,  inflicted  upon 
the  nations  by  the  invasion  of  the  Jews,  were  ex- 
pressly declared  to  be  inflicted  on  account  of  their 
abominable  sins — that  God  had  borne  with  them  long : 
that  God  did  not  proceed  to  execute  his  judgments, 
till  their  wickedness  was  full :  that  the  Israelites  were 
mere  instruments  in  the  hands  of  a  righteous  provi- 
dence for  the  effectuating  the  extermination  of  a  people, 
whom  it  was  necessary  to  make  a  public  example  to 
the  rest  of  mankind:  that  this  extermination,  which 
might  have  been  accomplished  by  a  pestilence,  by 
fire,  by  earthquakes,  was  appointed  to  be  done  by  the 
hands  of  the  Israelites,  as  being  the  clearest  and  most 
intelligible  method  of  displaying  the  power  and  righ- 
teousness  of  the  God  of  Israel;  his  power  over  the 


326  SERMON  XXIX. 

pretended  gods  of  other  nations,  and  his  righteous 
hatred  of  the  crimes  into  which  they  were  fallen. 

This  is  the  true  statement  of  the  case.  It  is  no 
forced,  or  invented"  construction,  but  the  idea  of  the 
transaction,  set  forth  in  scripture;  and  it  is  an  idea, 
which,  if  retained  in  our  thoughts,  may  fairly,  I  think, 
reconcile  us  to  every  thing  which  we  read  in  the  Old 
Testament  concerning  it. 


'  • 


SERMON  XXX, 


NEGLECT  OF  WARNINGS 

Deuteronomy,  xxxii.  29. 

''  Oh  that  they  were  wise^  that  they  understood  this, 
that  they  would  consider  their  hitter  end.'''' 

There  is  one  great  sin,  which,  nevertheless,  may 
not  be  amongst  the  number  of  those,  of  which  we 
are  sensible,  and  of  which  our  consciences  accuse  us; 
and  that  sin  is  the  neglect  of  warnings. 

It  is  our  duty  to  consider  this  life  throughout  as  a 
probationary  state :  nor  do  we  ever  think  truly,  or  act 
rightly,  but  so  long  as  we  have  this  consideration 
fully  before  our  eyes.  Now  one  character  of  a  state, 
suited  to  qualify  and  prepare  rational  and  improvable 
creatures  for  a  better  state,  consists  in  the  warnings, 
which  it  is  constantly  giving  them;  and  the  providence 
of  God,  by  placing  us  in  such  a  state,  becomes  the 
author  of  these  \\arnings.  It  is  his  paternal  care,  which 
admonishes  us  by  and  through  the  events  of  life  and 
death  that  pass  before  us.  Therefore  it  is  a  sin  against 
providence  to  neglect  them.   It  is  hardiness  and  deter- 


328  SERMON  XXX. 

mination  in  sin;  or  it  is  blindness,  which  in  whole  or 
in  part  is  wilful;  or  it  is  giddiness,  and  levity,  and 
contemptuousness  in  a  subject,  which  admits  not  of 
these  dispositions  towards  it,  without  great  offence  to 
God. 

A  serious  man  hardly  ever  passes  a  day,  never  a 
week,  without  meeting  with  some  warning  to  his  con- 
science; without  something  to  call  to  his  mind  his 
situation  with  respect  to  his  future  life.  And  these 
warnings,  as  perhaps  was  proper,  come  the  thicker 
upon  us,  the  farther  we  advance  in  life.  The  dropping 
into  the  grave  of  our  acquaintance,  and  friends  and 
relations;  what  can  be  better  calculated,  not  to  prove, 
(for  we  do  not  want  the  point  to  be  proved)  but  to 
possess  our  hearts  with  a  complete  sense  and  percep- 
tion of  the  extreme  peril  and  hourly  precariousness  of 
our  condition:  viz.  to  teach  this  momentous  lesson, 
that  when  we  preach  to  you,  concerning  heaven  and 
hell,  we  are  not  preaching  concerning  things  at  a  dis- 
tance, things  remote,  things  long  before  they  come  to 
pass:  but  concerning  things  near,  soon  to  be  decid- 
ed, in  a  very  short  time  to  be  fixed  one  way  or  the 
other?  This  is  a  truth  of  which  we  are  warned  by  the 
course  of  mortality;  yet,  with  this  truth  confessed, 
with  these  warnings  before  us,  we  venture  upon  sin. 
But  it  will  be  said,  that  the  events,  which  ought  to 
warn  us,  are  out  of  our  mind  at  the  time.  But  this  is 
not  so.  Were  it  that  these  things  came  to  pass  in  the 
wide  world  only  at  large,  it  might  be  that  we  should 
seldom  hear  of  them,  or  soon  forget  them.  But  the 


SERMON  XXX.  329 

events  take  place,  when  we  ourselves  are  within  our 
own  doors;  in  our  own  families;  amongst  those,  with 
whom  we  have  the  most  constant  correspondence,  the 
closest  intimacy,  the  strictest  connexion.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say  that  such  events  can  be  out  of  our  mind; 
nor  is  it  the  fact.  The  fact  is,  that  knowing  them,  we 
act  in  defiance  of  them :  which  is  neglecting  warnings 
in  the  worst  sense  possible.  It  aggravates  the  daring- 
ness;  it  aggravates  the  desperateness  of  sin:  but  it  is 
so  nevertheless.  Supposing  these  warnings  to  be  sent 
by  providence,  or  that  we  believe,  and  have  reason  to 
believe,  and  ought  to  believe,  that  they  are  so  sent, 
hen  the  aggravation  is  very  great. 

We  have  warnings  of  every  kind.  Even  youth  itself 
is  continually  warned,  that  there  is  no  reliance  to  be 
placed,  either  on  strength,  or  constitution,  or  early 
age :  that,  if  they  count  upon  life  as  a  thing  to  be  rec- 
koned secure  for  a  considerable  number  of  years,  they 
calculate  most  falsely;  and  if  they  act  upon  this  calcu- 
lation, by  allowing  themselves  in  the  vices,  which  are 
incidental  to  their  years,  under  a  notion,  that  it  will  be 
long  before  they  shall  have  to  answer  for  them,  and 
before  that  time  come  they  shall  have  abundant  season 
for  repenting  and  amending;  if  they  suffer  such  argu- 
ments to  enter  into  their  minds,  and  act  upon  them, 
then  are  they  guilty  of  neglecting  God  in  his  warn- 
ings.— They  not  only  err  in  point  of  just  reasoning, 
but  they  neglect  the  warnings  which  God  has  ex- 
pressly set  before  them.  Or,  if  they  take  upon  them- 
selves to  consider  religion  as  a  thing  not  made  or  cal- 

2T 


iaO  SERMON  XXX. 

culated  ibr  tliem;  as  much  too  serious  for  their  years; 
as  made  and  intended  for  the  old  and  the  dying;  at 
least  as  what  is  unnecessary  to  be  entered  upon  at  pre- 
sent, as  what  may  be  postponed  to  a  more  suitable 
time  of  life:  whenever  they  think  thus,  they  think  very 
presumptuously.  They  are  justly  chargeable  with  ne« 
glccting  Vv'arnings.  And  what  is  the  event?  These, 
postponers  never  enter  upon  religion  at  all,  in  earnest 
or  eftectually.  That  is  the  end  and  event  of  the  mat- 
ter. To  account  for  this,  shall  we  say,  that  they  have 
so  offended  God  by  neglecting  his  warnings,  ^s  to  have 
forfeited  his  grace?  Certainly  we  may  say,  that  this  is 
not  the  method  of  obtaining  his  grace;  and  that  his 
grace  is  necessary  to  our  conversion.  Neglecting 
warnings  is  not  the  way  to  obtain  God's  grace:  and 
God's  grace  is  necessary  to  conversion.  The  young,  I 
repeat  again,  want  not  warnings.  Is  it  new?  Is  it  un- 
heard of?  Is  it  not,  on  the  contrary,  the  intelligence  of 
every  week,  the  experience  of  every  neighbourhood, 
that  young  men  and  young  women  are  cut  off?  Man 
is,  in  every  sense,  a  flower  of  the  field.  The  flower  is 
liable  -to  be  cut  down  in  its  bloom  and  perfection,  as 
well  as  in  its  withering  and  its  decays.  So  is  man:  and 
one  probable  cause  of  this  ordination  of  providence  is, 
that  no  one  of  any  age  may  be  so  confident  of  life,  as 
to  allow  himself  to  transgress  God's  laws :  that  all  of 
every  age  may  live  in  constant  awe  of  their  Maker. 

I  do  admit,  that  warnings  come  the  thicker  upon  us, 
as  we  grow  old.  We  have  more  admonitions  both  in 
our  remembrances,  and  in  our  observations,  and  of 


SERMON  XXX.  331 

more  kinds.  A  man,  who  has  passed  a  long  life,  has 
to  remember  preservations  from  dangci-,  v\  hicli  ouglit 
to  inspire  him,  both  with  tliarikruhiess  and  caution. 
Yet,  I  fear,  we  are  very  deficient  in  both  these  quali- 
ties. We  call  our  preservations  escapes,  not  preserva- 
tions, and  so  we  feel  no  thankfulness  for  them:  nor  do 
we  turn  them  into  religious  cautions.  When  God  pre- 
served us,  he  meant  to  warn  us.  When  such  instances, 
therefore,  have  no  eflect  upon  our  minds,  we  are  guilty 
before  God  of  neglecting  his  warnings.  Most  espe- 
cially if  we  have  occasion  to  add  to  all  other  reasons 
for  gratitude  this  momentous  question,  What  would 
have  become  of  us,  what  would  have  been  our  condi- 
tion, if  we  had  perished  in  the  danger,  by  which  our 
lives  were  threatened  i*  The  parable  of  the  fig-tree 
(Luke  xiii.  6.)  is  a  most  apt  scripture  for  persons 
under  the  circumstances  we  have  described.  When  the 
Lord  had  said,  "  cut  it  down:  why  cumbercth  it  the 
ground?"  he  was  hitreated  to  try  it  one  year  longer; 
and  then,  if  it  proved  not  fruitful,  to  cut  it  down. 
Christ  himself  there  makes  the  application  twice  over, 
(verse  3d  and  5th,)  "except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all 
likewise  perish."  If  the  present,  or  if  the  then,  state 
of  our  conscience  and  of  our  souls  call  up  this  reflec- 
tion, then  are  we  very  guilty  indeed,  if  such  preserva- 
tions leave  no  religious  impression  upon  us :  or  if  we 
suffer  the  temporary  impression  to  pass  ofi'  without- 
producing  in  us  a  change  for  the  better. 

Infirmities,  whether  the}-  be  of  health  or  of  age,  de- 
cay and  weakness,  are  warnings.   And   it  has  been 


332  SERMON  XXX. 

asked,  with  some  degree  of  wonder,  why  they  make 
so  little  impression  as  they  do?  One  chief  reason  is 
this.  They,  who  have  waited  for  warnings  of  this 
kind,  before  they  would  be  converted,  have  generally 
waited  until  they  have  become  hardened  in  sin.  Their 
habits  are  fixed.  Their  character  has  taken  its  shape 
and  form.  Their  disposition  is  thoroughly  infected  and 
invested  with  sin.  When  it  is  come  to  this  case,  it  is 
difficult  for  any  call  to  be  heard ;  for  any  warning  to 
operate.  It  is  difficult;  but  "  with  God  all  things  are 
possible. "  If  there  be  the  will  and  the  sincere  endeav- 
our to  reform,  the  grace  of  God  can  give  the  power. 
Although,  therefore,  they,  who  wait  for  the  advances 
of  age,  the  perception  of  decay,  the  probable  approach 
of  death,  before  they  turn  themselves  seriously  to  reli- 
gion, have  waited  much  too  long,  have  neglected  and 
despised,  and  defied  many  solemn  waniings  in  the 
course  of  their  lives;  have  waited  indeed  till  it  be  next 
to  impossible  that  they  turn  at  all  from  their  former 
ways ;  yet  this  is  not  a  reason  why  they  should  con- 
tinue in  neglect  of  the  warnings,  which  now  press  upon 
them;  and  which  at  length  they  begin  to  perceive: 
but  just  the  contrary.  The  effiDrt  is  greater;  but  the 
necessity  is  greater.  It  is  their  last  hope,  and  their  last 
trial.  I  put  the  case  of  a  man  grown  old  in  sin.  If  the 
warnings  of  old  age  bring  him  round  to  religion,  happy 
is  that  man  in  his  old  age,  above  any  thing  he  was  in 
any  other  part  of  his  life.  But  if  these  warnings  do  not 
affii^ct  him,  there  is  nothing  left  in  this  world  which 
will.  We  are  not  to  set  limits  to  God's  grace,  operat- 
ing according  to  his  good  pleasure;  but  we  say,  there 


SERMON  XXX.  333 

is  nothing  in  this  world;  there  is  nothing  in  the  course 
of  nature  and  the  order  of  human  affliirs,  which  will 
affect  him,  if  the  feelings  of  ag-e  do  not.  I  put  the  case 
of  a  man  grown  old  in  sin,  and  though  old,  continuing 
the  practice  of  sin:  that  it  is  said,  in  the  full  latitude  of 
the  expression,  describes  a  worse  case  than  is  com- 
monly met  with.  Would  to  God  the  case  was  more 
rare  than  it  is!  But  allowing  it  to  be  unusual  in  the 
utmost  extent  of  the  terms:  in  a  certain  considerable 
degree  the  description  applies  to  many  old  persons. 
Many  feel  in  their  hearts,  that  the  words  "  grown  old 
m  sin,"  belong  to  them  in  some  sense  which  is  very 
formidable.  They  feel  some  dross  and  defilement  to 
be  yet  purged  away;  some  deep  corruption  to  be  yet 
eradicated:  some  virtue  or  other  to  be  yet  even  learnt: 
yet  acquired:  or  yet,  however,  to  be  brought  nearer  to 
what  it  ought  to  be,  than  it  has  hitherto  been  brought. 
Now  if  the  warnings  of  age  taught  us  nothing  else, 
they  might  teach  us  this:  that  if  these  things  are  to  be 
done,  they  must  be  done  soon:  they  must  be  set  about 
forthwith,  in  good  earnest,  and  with  strong  resolution. 
The  work  is  most  momentous;  the  time  is  short.  The 
day  is  far  spent:  the  evening  is  coming  on:  the  night  is 
at  hand. 

Lastly,  I  conceive  that  this  discourse  points  out  the 
true  and  only  way  of  making  old  age  comfortable ;  and 
that  is,  by  making  it  the  means  of  religious  improve- 
ment. Let  a  man  be  beset  by  ever  so  many  bodily 
complaints,  bowed  down  by  ever  so  many  infirmities; 
if  he  find  his  soul  grown  and  growing  better,  his  seri- 
ousness  increased,  his  obedience  more  regular  and 


334  &ERMON  XXX. 

more  exact,  his  ihward  principles  and  dispositions  im- 
proved from  what  they  were  formerly,  and  continuing 
to  improve ;  that  man  hath  a  fountain  of  comfort  and 
consolation  springing  up  within  him.  Infirmities,  which 
have  this  effect,  are  infinitely  better  than  strength  and 
health  themselves:  though  these,  considered  indepen- 
dently of  their  consequences,  be  justly  esteemed  the 
greatest  of  all  blessings,  and  of  all  gifts.  The  old  age 
of  a  virtuous  man  admits  of  a  different  and  of  a  most 
consoling  description. 

It  is  this  property  of  old  age,  namely,  that  its  pro- 
per and  most  rational  comfort  consists  in  the  consci- 
ousness of  spiritual  amendment.  A  very  pious  writer 
gives  the  following  representation  of  this  stage  of  hu- 
man life,  when  employed  and  occupied  as  it  ought  to 
be,  and  when  life  has  been  drawn  to  its  close  by  a 
course  of  virtue  and  religion.  To  the  intelligent  and 
virtuous,  says  our  author,  old  age  presents  a  scene  of 
tranquil  enjoyment,  of  obedient  appetites,  of  well  regu- 
lated affections,  of  maturity  in  knowledge,  and  of  calm 
preparation  for  immortality.  In  this  serene  and  digni- 
fied state,  placed,  as  it  were,  on  the  confines  of  two 
worlds,  the  mind  of  a  good  man  reviews  what  is  past 
with  the  complacency  of  an  approving  conscience,  and 
looks  forward  with  humble  confidence  in  the  mercy  of 
God,  and  with  devout  aspirations  towards  his  eternal 
and  ever  increasing  favour. 


SERMON  XXXI. 

THE  TERRORS  OF  THE  LORD. 
Matthew,  xvi.  26. 

"  What  is  a  man  profited^  ^fhe  shall  gain  the  whole 
worlds  and  lose  his  owfi  soul?  or  what  shall  a  man  give 
in  exchange  for  his  soulP^ 

T  HESE  words  ask  a  question,  the  most  home  to  eve 
ry  man's  concern  of  any  that  can  possibly  enter  into 
his  thoughts.  What  our  Saviour  meant  to  assert, 
though  proposed  to  his  hearers  in  the  form  of  a  ques- 
tion, (which  indeed  was  only  a  stronger  and  more  af- 
fecting way  of  asserting  it,)  is,  that  a  man's  soul,  by 
which  term  is  here  meant  his  state  after  death,  is  so 
infinitely  more  important  to  him,  so  beyond  and  above 
any  thing  he  can  get,  or  any  thing  he  can  lose,  any 
thing  he  can  enjoy,  or  any  thing  he  can  suffer,  on  this 
side  the  grave,  that  nothing,  which  the  world  offers, 
can  make  up  for  the  loss  of  it,  or  be  a  compensation 
when  that  is  at  stake.  You  say  that  this  is  very  evi- 
dent;  I  reply,  that  evident  as  it  is,  it  is  not  thought  of, 
it  is  not  considered,  it  is  not  believed.  The  subject, 
therefore,  is  very  proper  to  be  set  forth  in  those  strong 
and  plain  terms,  which  such  a  subject  requires,  forthf 


3S6  SERMON  XXXI. 

purpose  of  obtaining  for  it  some  degree  of  that  atten- 
tion, which  each  man's  own  deep  interest  in  the  event 
demands  of  him  to  give  it. 

There  are  two  momentous  ideas,  which  are  inckided 
in  the  expression, — the  loss  of  a  man's  soul;  and  these 
are  the  positive  pain  and  sufferings,  which  he  will  in- 
cur after  his  death:  and  the  happiness  and  reward, 
which  he  will  forfeit.  Upon  both  of  these  points  we 
must  go  for  information  to  the  scriptures.  No  where 
else  can  we  receive  any.  Now,  as  to  the  first  point, 
which  is,  in  other  words,  the  punishment  of  hell,  I  do 
admit,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  handle  this  dreadful 
subject  properly;  and  one  cause,  amongst  others,  of 
the  difficulty  is,  that  it  is  not  for  one  poor  sinner  to 
denounce  such  appalling  terrors,  such  tremendous  con- 
sequences against  another.  Damnation  is  a  woi  d,  whicH 
lies  hot  in  the  mouth  of  man,  who  is  a  worm,  towards 
any  of  his  fellow  creatures  whatsoever;  yet  it  is  abso- 
lutely  necessary  that  the  threatenings  of  Almighty 
God  be  known  and  published.  Therefore  we  begin  by 
observing,  that  the  accounts,  which  the  scriptures  con- 
tain of  the  punishment  of  hell,  are  for  the  most  part 
delivered  in  figurative  or  metaphorical  terms,  that  is 
to  say,  in  terms  which  represent  things,  of  which  we 
have  no  notion,  by  a  comparison  with  things,  of  which 
we  have  a  notion.  Therefore  take  notice  what  those 
figures  and  metaphors  are.  They  are  of  the  most 
dreadful  kind,  which  words  can  express:  and,  be  they 
understood  how  they  may,  ever  so  figuratively,  it  is 
plain  that  they  convey,  and  were  intended  to  convey, 


SERMOX  XXXI.  337 

ideas  of  horrible  torment.  They  arc  such  as  these, 
"  being  cast  into  hell,  where  the  worm  dieth  not,  and 
where  the  lire  is  not  quenched."  It  is  "  burning  the 
chaff  with  unquenchable  fire."  It  is  '*  going  into  fire 
evcrlusting,  which  is  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels."  It  is  "  being  cast  whh  all  his  members  into 
hell,  where  the  worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not 
quenched."  These  are  heart-appalling  expressions: 
and  were  undoubtedly  intended  by  the  person  who  used 
them  (who  was  no  other  than  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
himself,)  to  describe  terrible  endurings;  positive,  ac- 
tual pains  of  the  most  horrible  kinds.  I  have  said,  that 
the  punishment  of  hell  is  thus  represented  to  us  in 
figurative  speech.  I  now  say,  that  from  the  nature  of 
things,  it  could  hardly  have  been  represented  to  us  in 
any  other.  It  is  of  the  very  nature  of  pain,  that  it  can- 
not be  known  without  being  felt.  It  is  impossible  to 
give  to  any  one  an  exact  conception  of  it  without  his 
actually  tasting  it.  Experience  alone  teaches  its  acute- 
ness  and  intensity.  For  which  reason,  when  it  was  ne- 
cessary that  the  punishment  of  hell  should  be  set  forth 
in  scripture  for  our  warning,  and  set  forth  to  terrify 
us  from  our  sins,  it  could  only  be  done,  as  it  has  been 
done,  by  comparing  it  with  sufterings,  of  which  we 
can  form  a  conception,  and  making  use  of  terms 
drawn  from  these  sufferings.  When  words  less  figura- 
tive, and  more  direct,  but  at  the  same  time  more  ge- 
neral, are  adopted,  they  are  not  less  strong,  other\vise 
than  as  they  are  more  general.  "  Indignation  and  wrath, 
tribulation  and  anguish,  upon  every  soul  of  man  thai 
doeth  evil."  These  are  St.  Paul's  words.  It  is  a  short 

2U 


338  SERMON  XXXI. 

sentence,  but  enough  to  make  the  stoutest  heart  trem- 
ble: for,  though  it  unfold  no  particulars,  it  clearly  de- 
signates positive  torment.  The  day  of  judgment  itself, 
so  far  as  it  respects  the  wicked,  is  expressly  called  "  a 
day  of  wrath."  The  Lord  Jesus,  as  to  them,  shall  be* 
revealed  in  flaming  fire.  How  terrible  a  fate  it  must  be, 
to  find  ourselves  at  that  day  the  objects  of  God's  wrath, 
the  objects,  upon  whom  his  threats  and  judgments 
against  sin  are  now  to  be  executed,  the  revelation  of 
his  righteous  judgment  and  of  his  unerring  truth  to  be 
displayed,  may  be  conceived,  in  some  sort,  by  consi- 
dering, what  stores  of  inexhaustible  misery  are  always 
in  his  power.  With  our  present  constitutions,  if  he  do 
but  touch  the  smallest  part  of  our  bodies,  if  a  nerve  in 
many  places  goes  wrong,  what  torture  we  endure !  Let 
any  man,  who  has  felt,  or  rather  whilst  he  is  feeling, 
the  agony  of  some  bodily  torment,  only  reflect,  what  a 
condition  that  must  be,  which  had  to  suffer  this  con- 
tinually^  which  night  and  day  was  to  undergo  the  same, 
without  prospect  of  cessation  or  relief,  and  thus  to  go 
on:  and  then  ask,  for  what  he  would  knowingly  bring 
himself  into  this  situation ;  what  pleasure,  what  gain 
would  be  an  inducement?  Let  him  reflect  also,  how- 
bitter,  how  grinding  an  aggravation  of  his  sufferings, 
as  well  as  of  his  guilt,  it  must  be,  that  he  has  wilfully 
and  forwarned  brought  all  this  upon  himself.  May  it 
not  be  necessary,  that  God  should  manifest  his  truth 
by  executing  his  threats?  may  it  not  be  necessary, 
that  he  should  at  least  testify  his  justice,  by  placing  a 
wide  difference  between  the  good  and  the  bad?  be- 
tween virtue,  which  he  loves,  and  vice,  which  he  ab- 


SERMON  XXXI.  339 

hors?  which  dift'crence  must  consist  in  the  difFtrent 
state  of  happiness  and  of  misery,  in  which  the  good 
and  bad  are  finally  placed.  And  may  we  not  be  made 
deserved  sacrifices  to  this  dispensation? 

Now  if  any  one  feel  his  heart  struck  with  the  terrors 
of  the  Lord,  with  the  consideration  of  this  dreadful 
subject,  and  with  the  declarations  of  scripture  relating 
thereto,  which  will  all  have  their  accomplishment;  let 
him  be  intreated,  let  him  be  admonished,  to  hold  the 
idea,  tremendous  as  it  is,  fully  in  his  view,  till  it  has 
wrought  its  effect,  that  is,  till  it  has  prevailed  with  him 
to  part  with  his  sins:  and  then  we  assure  him,  that  to 
alarm,  fright,  and  horror,  will  succeed  peace,  and  hope, 
and  comfort,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  There  is  ano- 
ther way  of  treating  the  matter,  and  that  is,  to  shake 
off  the  idea  if  we  can ;  to  drown  it  in  intemperance ;  to 
overpower  it  with  worldly  business;  to  fly  from  it  in 
all  directions,  but  mostly,  in  that  which  carries  us  to 
hurrying  tumultuous  diversions,  to  criminal  indulgen- 
ces, or  into  gross  sensuality.  Now  of  this  course  of 
proceeding  it  is  certain,  tliat,  if  it  lay  the  mind  in  any 
degree  at  ease  in  this  life,  it  is  at  the  expense  of  the 
inevitable  destruction  of  our  souls  in  the  next:  which 
is  enough  to  say  against  it:  but  in  truth  it  answers 
even  its  present  purpose  very  imperfectly.  It  is  a  way 
of  getting  rid  of  the  matter,  with  which  even  we  our- 
selves are  not  satisfied.  We  are  sensible  that  it  is  a 
false,  treacherous,  hollow  way  of  acting  towards  our 
own  souls.  We  have  no  trust  in  what  we  are  d(jing. 
It  leaves  no  peace,  no  hope,  no  comfort,  no  joy. 


340  SERMON  XXXI. 

But  to  return  to  the  direct  subject  of  our  discourse. 
The  scriptures  uniformly  represent  the  wicked,  as  not 
only  suiferiiig  positive  misery,  but  also  as  having  lost, 
by  their  wickedness,  the  happiness  of  heaven,  and  as 
being  sensible  of  theif  loss.  They  are  repeatedly  de- 
scribed as  cast  oiit^  or  as  shut  out  into  outer  darkness: 
whilst  the  good  are  enteririg  into  the  joy  of  their  Lord. 
This  imports  a  knowledge  of  their  own  exclusion.  In 
the  parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus,  the  rich  man 
being  in  torments,  is  made  to  see  Lazarus  at  rest.  This 
teaches  us,  that  the  wicked  will  so  far  be  informed  of 
the  state  of  the  good,  as  to  perceive  and  bewail,  with 
unutterable  anguish  and  regret,  their  own  sad  fate  in 
being  refused  and  rejected,  when,  had  they  acted  dif- 
ferently, they  would  have  been  admitted  to  it.  This  is, 
strictly  speaking,  losing  a  man's  soul:  it  is  losing  that 
happiness,  which  his  soul  might  have  attained,  and  for 
which  it  was  made.  And  here  comes  the  bitter  addi- 
tion of  their  calamity,  that  being  lost,  it  cannot  be  re- 
covered. The  heaven  wc  hear  of  in  scripture,  and  the 
hell  we  hear  of  in  scripture,  are  a  heaven  and  hell  de- 
pending upon  our  behaviour  in  this  life.  So  they  are  all 
along  spoken  of.  "  Indignation,  wrath,  tribulation,  and 
anguish  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  cloeth  evil:^^  mean- 
ing evidently  the  evil  done  by  him  in  this  life,  no  other 
evil  was  in  the  Apostle's  thoughts.  Or  again,  more  ex- 
pressly, "  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment  seat 
of  Christ,  that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  done 
in  his  body,  according  to  that  he  hath  done,  whether 
it  be  good  or  bad."  "  The  things  done  in  the  body,'' 
are  the  things  taken  into  the  account. 


SERMON  XXXI.  '341 

Now,  by  the  side  of  this  immense  consequence  oi 
saving  or  of  losing  our  immortal  souls,  place  any  dif- 
ference, that  the  things  of  this  life  can  make  to  us; 
l)iace  riches  and  poverty,  grandeur  and  humility,  suc- 
cess or  misfortune;  place,  more  especially,  the  differ- 
ence between  possessing  and  sacrificing  an  unlawful 
gratification;  between  compassing  and  renouncing  an 
unjust  purpose;   making,  or  giving  up  an  unfair  gain; 
in  a  word,  between  the  pleasures  and  temptations  of 
vice,  and  the  self-denials  of  virtue ;  and  what  do  they 
amount  to?  The  objects  themselves  are  nothing,  when 
put  in  competition  with  heaven  and  hell.  Were  it  true, 
which  it  is  not,  that  real,  solid,  inward  happiness  was 
proportioned  either  to  outward  circumstances,  or  to 
the  indulgences  of  our  appetites  and  passions;  that  the 
good  things,  as  they  are  called,  and  pleasures  of  life 
were  as  satisfactory  to  the  possessor,  as  they  are,  for 
the  most  part,  deceitful  and  disappointing,  still  their 
duration  is  nothing.  The  oldest  men,  when  they  cast 
back  their  eyes  to  their  past  life,  see  it  in  a  very  nar- 
row compass.  It  appears  no  more  than  a  small  inter- 
val cut  out  of  eternal  duration,  both  before  and  after 
it;  when  compared  with  that  duration,  as  nothing.  But 
we  must  add  to  this  two  other  questions.  Can  life  be 
counted  upon  to  last  to  what  is  called  old  age?  No  man, 
who  observes  the  deaths  that  take  place  in  his  neio-h- 
bourhood,  or  amongst  his  acquaintance,  will  so  com- 
pute. Or,  secondly,  do  the  pleasures  of  sin  last  as  long 
as  our  lives?  We  ma}-  answer,  never:  with  the  single 
dreadful  exception  of  the  sinner  being  cut  off  in  his 
prime.  Whoever  looks  for  permanent  happiness  from 


342  SERMON  XXXI. 

the  pleasures  of  sin  will  find  himself  miserably  mis- 
taken. They  are  short,  even  compared  with  our  short 
lives;  subject  to  casuiilties  and  disasters  without  num- 
ber; transitory,  not  only  as  the  things  of  this  world  are 
transitory,  but  in  a  much  greater  degree.  It  will  be 
said,  however,  that  though  this  observation  may  be 
true  of  the  pleasures  of  sin,  yet  an  advantage  gained 
by  sin,  that  is,  by  unrighteous,  unconscientious  means, 
may,  nevertheless,  remain  an  advantage  as  long  as  we 
live.  This  may  sometimes  be  the  case;  and  such  ad- 
vantage may  be  so  long  enjoyed,  if  that  can  be  enjoyed, 
which  has  a  fearful  expectation  and  looking  for  of 
judgment  annexed  to  it.  But  what  is  the  term  of  that 
enjoyment  compared  with  the  sequel?  It  is  a  moment, 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  compared  with  a  day;  an  hour 
compared  with  a  year;  a  single  day  with  a  long  life.  It 
is  less  than  these:  for  all  these  comparisons  are  short  of 
the  truth.  Well  therefore  doth  our  Saviour  ask,  "What 
doth  a  man  profit  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul?"  That  world,  when  gained,  he  could 
not  keep :  nor,  if  he  could,  would  it  make  him  happy. 

But  our  Saviour  delivered  his  powerful  admonition, 
not  so  much  for  his  disciples  to  reason  upon,  as  to 
carry  into  practice:  that  is,  that  his  words  might  strike 
into  their  souls  upon  these  occasions,  (which  are  but 
too  many,)  when  the  business,  the  bustle,  or  the  allure- 
ments of  the  world,  are  in  danger  of  shutting  out  futu- 
rity from  their  thoughts. — These  are  the  times  for 
calling  to  mind  our  Saviour's  question.  Whenever, 
therefore,  we  are  driving  on  in  the  career  of  worldly 


SERMON  XXXI.  343 

prosperity:  meeting  with  success  after  success:  fortu- 
nate, rich,  and  flourishing:  when  every  thing  appears 
to  thrive  and  smile  around  us:  but  conscience,  in  the 
mean  time,  little  heeded  and  attended  to;  the  justice, 
the  integrity,  the  uprightness  of  our  ways,  and  of 
our  dealings,  seldom  weighed  and  scrutinized  by  us; 
religion  very  much,  or  entirely  perhaps,  out  of  the 
question  with  us;  soothed  and  buoyed  up  with  that 
self-applause,  which  success  naturally  begets:  in  this 
no  very  uncommon  state  of  soul,  it  Vvill  be  well,  if  we 
hear  our  Saviour's  voice  asking  us,  what  does  all  this 
prosperity  signify?  if  it  do  not  lead  to  heaven,  what  is 
it  worth?  when  the  scene  is  shifted,  if  nothing  but 
death  and  darkness  remain  behind;  much  more,  if 
God  Almighty  be  all  this  while  offended  by  our  for- 
getfulness  both  of  his  mercies  and  his  laws,  our  neglect 
of  his  service,  our  indevotion,  our  thoughtlessness, 
our  disobedience,  our  love  of  the  world  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  consideration  of  Him ;  if  we  be  assured,  and 
if,  in  reality,  it  be  the  case,  that  his  displeasure  shall 
infiilllbly  overtake  us  at  our  death,  what,  in  truth, 
under  all  this  appearance  of  advantage,  are  we  getting 
or  gaining?  The  world  may  amuse  us  with  names  and 
terms  of  felicitation,  with  their  praises  or  their  envy, 
but  wherein  are  we  the  better  in  the  amount  and  result 
of  substantial  happiness?  We  have  got  our  aim,  and 
what  is  the  end  of  it?  Death  is  preparing  to  level  us 
with  the  poorest  of  mankind ;  and  after  that,  a  fearful 
looking  for  and  expectation  of  judgment;  no  well 
founded  hopes  of  happiness  beyond  the  grave;  and  we 
drawing  sensibly  nearer  to  that  grave  every  year.  This 


344  SERMON  XXXI. 

is  the  sum  of  the  account.  Or,  which  is  another  case 
no  less  apposite  to  our  present  argument,  is  it  some 
sensual  pleasure  that  tempts  us,  some  wicked  enjoy- 
ment that  has  taken  such  hold  of  our  passions,  that  we 
are  ready  to  rush  upon  it,  whatever  be  the  consequence? 
If  we  gain  our  object;  if  we  possess  our  wishes,  we  are 
happy:  but  what,  if  we  lose  our  own  souls?  What,  if 
we  find  ourselves  condemned  men  for  hardily  venturing 
upon  crimes,  which  will,  and  which  we  were  fore- 
warned that  they  would,  render  us  the  objects  of  God's 
final  indignation  and  displeasure?  Will  any  gratifica- 
tions, which  sin  affords,  be  a  recompense  or  a  consola- 
tion? Are  they  so  even  for  the  diseases,  shame  and 
ruin,  which  they  often  bring  upon  men  in  this  world? 
Ask  those  who  are  so  ruined  or  so  diseased.  How 
much  less  then  for  the  gnawings  of  that  worm  which 
dieth  not;  the  burnings  of  that  fire  which  will  not  be 
quenched?  In  hopeless  torment  will  it  assuage  our 
sufferings,  or  mitigate  the  bitterness  of  our  self-accu- 
sation to  know  that  we  have  brought  ourselves  into 
this  state  for  some  transient  pleasure,  which  is  gone, 
lost  and  perished  for  ever?  Oh  that  we  had  thought  of 
these  things  before,  as  we  think  of  them  now!  That 
we  had  not  been  infidels,  as  touching  our  Lord's  de- 
claration! that  we  had  believed  in  him;  and  that,  believ- 
ing that  he  had  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  future  fate 
of  mankind,  and  of  the  truth  of  what  he  taught,  we  had 
listened  in  time  to  his  admonition ! 

Universally  the  true  occasion  for  remembering  and 
applying  the  passage  of  scripture  before  us  is,  when 
we  are  deliberating  concerning  the  conduct  we  are  to 


SERMON  XXXI.  345 

pursue,  in  the  contests  which  arise  between  tempta- 
tion and  duty,  between  the  flesh  and  the  woild,  or 
between  both  united  and  our  own  souls.  Be  the 
temptation  what  it  will,  either  in  kind  or  strength, 
this  is  the  thought  to  be  for  ever  set  against  it,  that  if 
we  give  wav,  we  give  way  in  exchange  for  our  own 
souls;  that  the  perdition  of  the  soul  is  set  forth  in 
scripture  in  terms  most  tremendous,  but  not  more 
tremendous  than  true;  that  the  sinner,  the  man  in- 
volved in  unrepented,  unforsaken  sins,  can  never 
know  how  soon  he  may  be  reduced  to  this  state. 


2X 


SERMON  XXXII. 

PRESERVATION  AND  RECOVERY  FROM  SiN. 

Titus,  ii.  11,  12. 

"  For  the  grace  of  God,  that  bringeth  salvation,  hath 
appeared  unto  all  men,  teaching  us,  that  denying  un- 
godliness and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly, 
righteously,  and  godly,  m  this  present  world.'*'* 

1  HERE  arc  certain  particular  texts  of  scripture  which 
are  of  inestimable  use;  for  that  in  a  few,  short,  clear 
words,  they  show  us  the  sum  of  our  duty.  Such  texts 
ought  to  be  deeply  infixed  and  imprinted  upon  our 
memories;  to  be  written  indeed  upon  our  hearts.  The 
text,  which  I  have  read  to  you,  is  entitled  to  this  dis- 
tinction. No  single  sentence,  that  ever  was  written 
down  for  the  direction  of  mankind,  comprises  more 
important  truth  in  less  room.  The  text  gives  us  a  rule 
of  life  and  conduct :  and  tells  us,  that  to  lay  down  for 
mankind  this  rule,  and  enforce  it  by  the  promise  of 
Salvation,  was  a  great  object  of  the  gospel  being  pub- 
lished in  the  world.  The  gospel  might  include  other 
objects,  and  answer  other  purposes ;  but,  as  far  as  re- 
lated to  the  regulation  of  life  and  conduct,  this  was  its 
object  and  its  purpose.  The  rule,  you  hear,  is,  that, 


SERMON  XXXII.  347 

"■'  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  we  should 
live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present 
world."  We  must  begin  "  by  denying  ungodliness 
and  worldly  lusts:"  which  means  that  we  must  resist 
or  break  off  all  sins  of  licentiousness,  debauchery,  and 
intemperance ;  for  these  are  what  are  specifically  meant 
by  worldly  lusts.  And  these  must  be  denied;  that  is, 
they  must  either  be  withstood  in  the  first  instance,  or 
the  evil  courses,  into  uhich  they  have  drawn  us,  must 
be  broken  off. 

When  a  rule  of  morals  is  plain  and  positive,  it  is 
seldom  that  there  is  any  advantage  in  enlarging  upon 
the  rule  itself.  We  only  weaken  it,  by  dilating  it.  I 
shall  employ,  therefore,  my  present  discourse  in  offer- 
ing such  heads  of  advice,  as  may  be  likely,  by  God's 
blessing,  to  assist  us  in  rendering  obedience  to  the 
rule,  laid  down  for  us;  an  obedience,  upon  which  sal- 
vation depends. 

First  then,  I  observe  concerning  licentious  practices, 
that  it  is  most  practicable,  to  be  entirely  innocent ; 
that  it  is  a  more  easy  thing  to  withstand  them  alto- 
gether, than  it  is  to  set  bounds  to  their  indulgence. 
This  is  a  point  not  sufficiently  understood:  though 
true,  it  is  not  believed.  Men  know  not  what  they  are 
doing,  when  they  enter  upon  vicious  courses:  what  a 
struggle,  what  a  contest,  what  misery,  what  torment 
they  are  preparing  for  themselves.  I  trust  that  there 
is  hardly  a  man  or  woman  living,  who  enters  into  a 
course  of  sin  with  the  design  of  remaining  in  it  to  the 


348  SERMON  XXXII. 

end;  who  can  brave  the  punishment  of  hell;  who  intends 
to  die  in  that  state  of  sure  perdition,  to  which  a  course 
of  unrepented  sin  must  bring  him  or  her.  No:  that  is 
not  the  plan  even  of  the  worst,  much  less  of  the  gene- 
rality of  mankind.  Their  plan  is  to  allow  themselves 
to  a  certain  length,  and  there  stop;  for  a  certain  time, 
and  then  reform;  in  such  and  such  opportunities  and 
temptations,  but  in  no  more.  Now,  to  such  persons, 
and  to  such  plans,  I  say  this,  that  it  would  not  have 
cost  them  one  tenth  of  the  mortification,  pain,  and 
self-denial,  to  have  kept  themselves  at  a  distance  from 
sin,  that  it  must  and  will  cost  them  to  break  it  oif; 
adding  the  further  consideration,  that,  so  long  as  men 
preserve  their  innocence,  the  consciousness  of  doing 
what  is  right  is  both  the  strongest  possible  support  of 
of  their  resolution,  and  the  most  constant  source  of 
satisfaction  to  their  thoughts:  but  that  when  men  once 
begin  to  give  way  to  vicious  indulgences,  another 
state  of  things  takes  place  in  their  breasts.  Disturbance 
at  the  heart;  struggles  and  defeats,  resolutions  and 
relapses,  self-reproach  and  self-condemnation,  drive 
out  all  quietness  and  tranquillity  of  conscience.  Peace 
within  is  at  an  end.  All  is  unsettled.  Did  the  young 
and  unexperienced  knowthetruthof  this  matter;  how 
much  easier  it  is  to  keep  innocency,  than  to  return  to 
it;  how  great  and  terrible  is  the  danger,  that  they  do 
not  return  to  it  at  all;  surely  they  would  see,  and  see 
in  a  light  strong  enough  to  influence  their  determina- 
tion, that  to  adhere  inviolably  to  the  rules  of  tempe- 
rance, soberness,  and  chastity,  was  their  safety,  their 
wisdom,  their  happiness.   How  many  bitter  thoughts 


SERMON  XXXII.  349 

does  the  innocent  man  avoid?  Serenity  and  cheerful- 
ness are  his  portion.  Hope  is  continually  pouring  its 
balm  into  his  soul.  His  heart  is  at  rest,  uhilst  others 
are  goaded  and  tortured  by  the  stings  of  a  wouudcd 
conscience,  the  remonstrances  and  risings  up  of  prin- 
ciples, which  they  cannot  forget;  perpetually  teased 
bv  returning  temptations,  perpetually  lamenting  de- 
feated resolutions.  "  There  is  no  peace  unto  the  wick- 
ed, saith  my  God."  There  is  no  comfort  in  such  a 
life  as  this,  let  a  man's  ou.tward  circumstances  be  what 
they  will.  Genuine  satisfaction  of  mind  is  not  attaina- 
ble under  the  recurring  consciousness  of  being  im- 
mersed in  a  course  of  sin,  and  the  still  remaining 
prevalence  of  religious  principles.  Yet  either  this  must 
be  the  state  of  a  sinner,  till  he  recover  again  his  vir- 
tuous courses,  or  it  must  be  a  state  infinitely  worse ; 
that  is,  it  must  be  a  state  of  entire  surrender  of  him- 
self to  a  life  of  sin,  which  will  be  followed  by  a  death 
of  despair,  by  ruin,  final  and  eternal ;  by  the  wrath  of 
God ;  by  the  pains  of  hell. 

But  secondly.  In  what  manner,  and  by  what  methods 
are  sins  to  be  broken  off?  for  although  the  maxim, 
which  we  have  delivered,  be  perfectly  and  certainly 
true,  viz.  that  it  is  ease  and  happiness  to  preserve  in- 
nocence entirely,  compared  with  what  it  is  to  recover 
our  innocence,  or  even  to  set  bounds  to  guilt,  yet  it  is 
a  truth  which  all  cannot  receive.  I  do  not  mean  that  all 
will  not  acknowledge  it,  for  I  believe,  that  those  will  be 
most  ready  to  give  their  assent  to  it,  who  feel  them- 
selves bound  and  entangled  by  the  chain  of  their  sin. 


350  SERMON  XXXIl. 

But  it  is  not  applicable  to  every  man's  case;  because 
many,  having  already  fallen  into  vicious  courses,  have 
no  longer  to  consider  how  much  better,  how  much 
happier  it  would  have  been  for  them,  to  have  adhered 
closely  to  the  laws  of  virtue  and  religion  at  first,  but 
how  to  extricate  themselves  from  the  bad  condition, 
in  which  they  are  placed  at  present.  Now  to  expect  to 
break  off  sin,  in  any  manner,  without  pain  and  difficul- 
ty, is  a  vain  expectation.  It  is  to  expect  a  moral  im- 
possibility. Such  expectations  ought  not  to  be  held 
out,  because  they  are  sure  to  deceive;  and  because 
th  V,  who  act  under  such  encouragement,  finding 
themselves  deceived,  will  never  persist  in  their  endea- 
vours to  any  purpose  of  actual  reformation.  All  man- 
kind feel  a  reluctance  to  part  with  their  sins.  It  must 
be  so.  It  arises  from  the  very  nature  of  temptation,  by 
Avhich  they  are  drawn  into  sin.  Feeling  then  this  strong 
reluctance,  it  is  very  natural  for  men  to  do,  what  great 
numbers  do,  namely,  propose  to  themselves  to  part  with 
their  sins  by  degrees;  thinking  that  they  can  more  easi- 
ly do  it  in  this  way  than  in  any  other.  It  presents  to 
their  view  a  kind  of  compromise;  a  temporary  hope  of 
enjoying,  for  the  present,  at  least,  the  criminal  pleasures 
to  which  they  have  addicted  themselves,  or  the  crimi- 
nal advantages  they  are  making,  together  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  a  final  reform.  I  believe,  as  I  have  already 
said,  that  this  is  a  course,  into  which  great  numbers 
fall;  and  therefore  it  becomes  a  question  of  very  great 
importance,  whether  it  be  a  safe  and  successful  course, 
or  not.  What  I  am  speaking  of,  is  the  trying  to  break 
off  our  sins  by  degrees.  Now,  in  the  first  place,  it  is 


SERMON  XXXll.  351 

contrary  to  principle.  A  man  is  supposed  to  feel  the 
guilt  and  danger  of  the  practices  which  he  follows.  He 
must  be  supposed  to  perceive  this,  because  he  is  sup- 
posed to  resolve  to  quit  them.  His  resolution  is  found- 
ed upon,  springs  from  this  perception.  Wherefore,  I 
say,  that  it  is  in  contradiction  to  principle,  to  allow 
ourselves  even  once  more  in  sin,  after  we  have  truly 
become  sensible  of  the  guilt,  the  danger,  and  the  con- 
sequences of  it.  It  is,  from  that  time,  known  and  wilful 
sin.  I  own  I  do  not  see  how  the  plan  of  gradually  di- 
minishing a  sinful  habit  can  be  consistent  with,  or  can 
proceed  from,  sincere  religious  principles:  for,  as  to 
what  remains  of  the  habit,  it  implies  an  express  allow- 
ance of  ourselves  in  sin,  which  is  utterly  inconsistent 
with  sincerity.  Whoever  continues  in  the  practice  of 
any  one  known  sin,  in  defiance  of  God's  commands, 
cannot,  so  continuing,  hope  to  find  mercy:  but,  with 
respect  to  so  much  of  the  habit  as  is  yet  allowed  by 
him  to  remain,  he  is  so  continuing,  and  his  continu- 
ance is  part  of  his  plan.  These  attempts,  therefore,  at 
gradual  reformation,  do  not  proceed  from  a  true  vital 
religious  principle;  which  principle,  succoured  by 
God's  grace,  is  the  only  thing  that  can  stand  against 
sin,  strengthened  by  habit.  So  I  should  reason  upon  the 
case,  looking  at  it  in  its  own  nature.  The  next  ques- 
tion is.  How  is  it  in  fact?  Is  it  in  fact  better?  Is  it  in 
experience  more  successful,  than  from  its  nature  we 
should  expect  it  to  be?  Now  I  am  much  afraid,  that 
all  the  proof,  which  can  be  drawn  either  from  observa- 
tion, or  consciousness,  is  against  it.  Of  other  men  wc 
must  judge  by  observation;  of  ourselves  by  consci 


352  SERMON  XXXII. 

ousness.  What  happens  then  to  gradual  reformation? 
Perpetual  relapses,  perpetually  defeated  and  weaken- 
ed resolutions.  The  principle  of  resistance  is  weaken- 
ed by  every  relapse.  Did  the  mortification  of  a  defeat 
incite  and  quicken  men  to  stronger  efforts,  it  would  be 
well.  But  it  has  a  contrary  eifect;  it  renders  every  suc- 
ceeding exertion  more  feeble.  The  checked  indul- 
gences, which,  in  the  progress  of  our  fancied  amend- 
ment, we  allow  ourselves,  are  more  than  sufficient  to 
feed  desire ;  to  keep  up  the  force  and  strength  of  temp- 
tation: nay,  perhaps,  the  temptation  acquires  more 
force  from  the  partial  curb,  which  we  impose  upon 
it.  Then,  while  the  temptation  remains  with  unabat- 
ed, or  perhaps  augmented  strength,  our  resolution  is 
suffering  continual  relaxation;  our  endeavours  become 
unsatisfactory  even  to  ourselves.  This  miserable  strug- 
gle cannot  be  maintained  long.  Although  nothing  but 
persevering  in  it  could  save  us,  we  do  not  persevere. 
Finding  not  ease,  but  difficulty  increased,  and  increas- 
ing difficulty,  men  give  up  the  cause;  that  is,  they  trj- 
to  settle  themselves  into  some  mode  of  thinking,  which 
may  quiet  their  consciences  and  their  fears.  They  fall 
back  to  their  sins:  and  when  they  find  their  consci- 
ences easier,  they  think  their  guilt  less;  whereas  it  is 
only  their  conscience,  that  is  become  more  insensible ; 
their  reasoning  more  treacherous  and  deceitful !  The 
danger  is  what  it  was,  or  greater;  the  guilt  is  so  too. 
Would  to  God,  we  could  say,  that  gradual  reforms 
were  frequently  successful;  they  are  what  men  often 
attempt:  they  are,  alas,  what  men  usually  fail  in.  It  is 
painful  to  seem  to  discourage  endeavours  of  any  kind 


SERMON  XXXII.  353 

after  amendment:  but  it  is  necessary  to  advertise  men 
of  their  danger.  If  one  method  of  going  about  an  im- 
portant work  be  imposing  in  expectation,  and  yet,  in 
truth,  likely  to  end  in  ruin:  can  any  thing  be  more  ne- 
cessary, than  to  set  forth  this  danger  and  this  conse- 
quence plainly?  This  is  precisely  the  case  with  gradual 
reforms.  'J'hey  do  not  very  much  alarm  our  passions; 
they  soothe  our  consciences.  They  do  not  alarm  our 
passions,  because  the  absolute  rupture  is  not  to  come 
yet.  We  are  not  yet  entirely  and  totally  to  bid  adieu  to 
our  pleasures  and  indulgences,  never  to  enjoy  our  re- 
turn to  them  any  more.  We  only  have  in  view  to  wean 
and  withdraw  ourselves  from  them  by  degrees ;  and 
this  is  not  so  harsh  and  formidable  a  resolution  as  the 
other.  Yet  it  soothes  our  consciences.  It  presents  the 
semblance  and  appearance  of  repenting  and  reforming. 
It  confesses  our  sense  of  sin  and  danger.  It  takes  up 
the  purpose,  it  would  fain  encourage  us  with  the  hope 
of  delivering  ourselves  from  this  condition.  But  what 
is  the  result?  Feeding  in  the  mean  time  and  foment- 
ing those  passions,  which  are  to  be  controlled  and  re- 
sisted; adding,  by  every  instance  of  giving  way  to 
them,  fresh  force  and  strength  to  habits  which  are  to 
be  broken  off;  our  constancy  is  subdued  before  our 
work  is  accomplished.  W^e  continue  yielding  to  the 
importunity  of  temptation.  We  have  gained  nothing 
by  our  miserable  endeavour,  but  the  mortification  of 
defeat.  Our  sins  are  still  repeated.  The  state  of  our 
salvation  is  where  it  was.  Oh !  it  is  a  laborious,  a  diffi- 
cult, a  painful  work  to  shake  off  sin;  to  change  the 

2  Y 


354  SERMON  XXXII. 

course  of  a  sinful  life;  to  quit  gratifications  to  which 
we  have  been  accustomed,  because  we  perceive  them 
to  be  unlawful  gratifications;  and  to  find  satisfaction  in 
others,  which  are  innocent  and  virtuous.  If  in  one 
thing  more  than  another  we  stand  in  need  of  God's 
holy  succour  and  assistance,  of  the  aid  and  influence  of 
his  blessed  Spirit  upon  our  souls,  it  is  in  this  work  of 
reformation.  But  can  we  reasonably  expect  it,  whilst 
we  are  not  sincere?  And  I  say  again,  that  the  plan  of 
gradual  reformation  is  in  contradiction  to  principle, 
and  so  far  insincere.  Is  there  not  reason  to  believt  ^hat 
this  may  in  some  measure  account  for  the  failure  of 
these  resolutions? 

But  it  will  be  asked  of  us,  what  better  plan  have 
we  to  oflfer?  We  answer,  to  break  off  our  sins  at  once. 
This  is  properly  to  deny  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts.  This  is  truly  to  do,  what,  according  to  the 
Apostle,  the  grace  of  God  teaches  us  to  do.  Acting 
thus,  we  may  pray,  we  may  humbly  hope  for  the  as- 
sistance of  God's  Spirit  in  the  work  and  struggle 
through  which  we  have  to  go.  And  I  take  upon  me 
to  say,  that  all  experience  is  in  favour  of  this  plan,  in 
preference  to  that  of  a  gradual  reform ;  in  favour  of 
it,  both  with  respect  to  practicability,  and  with  respect 
to  ease  and  happiness.  We  do  not  pretend,  but  that 
a  conflict  with  desire  must  be  supported,  but  that 
great  resolution  is  necessary:  yet  we  teach,  that  the 
pain  of  the  effort  is  lessened  by  this  method,  as  far  as 
it  can  be  lessened  at  all.  Passions  deniedy  firmly  denied 


SERMON  XXXII.  355 

and  resisted,  and  not  kep^  up  by  occasional  indul- 
gences, lose  their  power  ot  tormenting.  Habits,  abso- 
luteh'  and  totally  disused,  lose  their  hold.  It  is  the 
nature  of  man.  They  then  leave  us  at  liberty  to  seek 
and  to  find  happiness  elsewhere,  in  better  things  to 
enjoy,  as  well  as  to  practise,  virtue;  to  draw  comfort 
from  religion;  to  dwtll  upon  its  hopes;  to  pursue  its 
duties:  to  acquire  a  love,  a  taste,  and  relish  for  its 
exercises  and  meditations. 

One  very  general  cause  of  entanglement  in  habits 
of  sin  is  the  connexion  which  they  have  with  our  way 
of  life,  with  our  business,  with  the  objects  that  are 
continually  thrown  in  our  way,  with  the  practices  and 
usages,  which  prevail  in  the  company  we  keep.  Every 
condition  of  life  has  its  particular  temptation.  And 
not  only  so,  but  when  we  have  fallen  into  evil  habits, 
these  habits  so  mix  themselves  with  our  method  of 
life,  return  so  upon  us  at  their  usual  times,  and  places, 
and  occurrence  of  objects,  that  it  becomes  very  diffi- 
cult to  break  the  habit,  without  a  general  change  of 
our  whole  system.  Now  I  say,  whenever  this  is  a 
man's  case,  that  he  cannot  shake  off  his  sins,  without 
giving  up  his  way  of  life :  he  must  give  up  that  also, 
let  it  cost  what  it  will :  for  it  is  in  truth  no  other  sa- 
crifice than  what  our  Saviour  himself  in  the  strongest 
terms  enjoins,  when  he  bids  his  disciples  to  pluck  out 
a  right  eye  or  cut  off  a  right  hand,  (that  is,  surrender 
whatever  is  most  dear  or  valuable  to  them,)  that  they 
be  not  cast  with  all  their  members  into  hell  fire.  If  a 


356  SERxMON  XXXII. 

trade  or  business  cannot  be  followed  without  giving  into 
practices,  which  conscience  does  not  approve,  we  must 
relinquish  the  trade  or  business  itself.  If  it  cannot  be 
followed  without  bringing  us  into  the  way  of  tempta- 
tion to  intemperance,  more  than  we  can  withstand,  or 
in  fact  do  withstand,  we  must  also  relinquish  it,  and 
turn  ourselves  to  some  safer  course.  If  the  company 
we  keep,  the  conversation  we  hear,  the  objects  that 
surround  us,  tend  to  draw  us,  and  do  in  fact  draw  us, 
into  debauchery  and  licentiousness,  we  must  fly  from 
the  place,  the  company,  and  the  objects,  no  matter  with 
what  reluctance  we  do  so,  or  what  loss  and  inconve- 
nience we  suffer  by  doing  it.  This  may  appear  to  be 
a  hard  lesson :  it  is  nevertheless,  what  right  reason 
dictates,  and  what,  as  hath  already  been  observed,  our 
Saviour  himself  enjoins  in  terms,  made  as  strong  and 
forcible,  as  he  could  make  them. 

Sometimes  men  are  led  by  prudential  motives,  or 
by  motives  of  mere  inclination,  to  change  their  em- 
ployment, their  habitation,  or  their  station  of  life. 
These  occasions  afford  excellent  and  invaluable  oppor- 
tunities for  correcting  and  breaking  off"  any  vicious 
habits,  which  we  may  have  contracted.  It  is  when 
many  associations,  which  give  strength  to  a  sinful 
habit,  are  interrupted  and  dissolved  by  the  change, 
which  has  taken  place,  that  we  can  best  resolve  to 
conquer  the  sin,  and  set  out  upon  a  new  course  and  a 
new  life.  The  man,  who  does  not  take  advantage  of 
such  opportunities,  when  they  arise,  has  not  the  sal- 


SERMON  XXXII.  357 

vation  of  his  soul  at  heart :  nevertheless,  they  are  not 
to  be  Avaitcd  for. 

But  to  those  sudden  changes,  which  we  recom- 
mend, will  it  be  objected,  that  they  are  seldom  lasting? 
Is  this  the  fact?  Are  they  more  liable  to  fail,  than  at- 
tempts to  change  gradually?  I  think  not.  And  there 
is  always  this  diifcrcncc  between  them.  A  sudden 
change  is  sincere  at  the  time:  a  gradual  change  never 
is  such,  truly  and  properly:  and  this  is  a  momentous 
distinction.  In  every  view,  and  in  every  allowance, 
and  in  every  plea  of  human  frailty  we  must  distinguish 
between  what  is  consistent  \\'ith  sincerity,  and  what  is 
not.  And  in  these  two  methods  of  setting  about  a 
reformation,  by  reason  of  their  different  character  in 
this  respect,  the  first  may,  though  with  fear  and  hu- 
mility, expect  the  help  of  God's  aiding  Spirit,  the 
other  hardly  can.  For  whilst  not  by  surprise  and  un- 
premeditatedly  we  flill  into  casual  sins,  but  whilst  by 
plan  and  upon  system  we  allow  ourselves  in  licences, 
which,  though  not  so  many  or  so  great  as  before,  are 
still,  whene\'er  they  are  indulged,  so  many  known 
sins;  whilst,  in  a  word,  though  we  imagine  ourselves 
to  be  in  a  progress  of  amendment,  we  yet  deliberately 
continue  to  sin,  our  endeavours  are  so  corrupted,  I 
will  not  say  by  imperfection,  but  by  insincerity,  that 
vve  can  hardly  hope  to  call  do\\'n  upon  them  the  bles- 
sing of  Almighty  God. 

Reformation  is  never  impossible;  nor,  in  a  strict  sense, 
can  it  be  said  to  be  doubtful.  Nothingis,  properly  speak- 


358  SERMON  XXXII. 

ing,  doubtful,  which  it  is  in  man's  power  to  accomplish; 
nothing  is  doubtful  to  us,  but  what  is  placed  out  of 
the  reach  of  our  will,  or  depends  upon  causes,  which 
we  cannot  influence;  and  this  is  not  the  case  with  re- 
formation from  sin.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  look  to 
experience,  we  are  compelled,  though  with  grief  of 
heart,  to  confess,  that  the  danger  is  very  great  of  a  man, 
who  is  engaged  in  a  course  of  sin,  never  reforming  from 
his  sin  at  all.  Oh!  let  this  danger  be  known.  Let  it  stand, 
like  a  flaming  sword,  to  turn  us  aside  from  the  road  to 
vice.  Let  it  offer  itself  in  its  full  magnitude.  Let  it 
strike,  as  it  ought,  the  souls  of  those,  who  are  upon 
the  brink,  perhaps,  of  their  whole  future  fate:  who  are 
tempted;  and  who  are  deliberating  about  entering  upon 
some  course  of  sin. 

Let  also  the  perception  and  convincement  of  this 
danger  sink  deep  into  the  hearts  of  all,  who  are  in  such 
a  situation,  as  that  they  must  either  reform,  or  perish. 
They  have  it  in  their  power,  and  it  must  now  be  their 
only  hope,  by  strong  and  firm  exertion,  to  make  them- 
selves an  exception  to  the  general  lot  of  habitual  sin- 
ners. It  must  be  an  exception.  If  they  leave  things  to 
their  course,  they  will  share  the  fate,  in  which  they  see 
others,  involved  in  guilt  like  themselves,  end  their 
lives.  It  is  only  by  a  most  strenuous  effort  they  can 
rescue  themselves  from  it.  We  apprise  them,  that 
their  best  hope  is  in  a  sudden  and  complete  change, 
sincerely  besun,  fiithfully  persisted  in;  broken,  it  is 
possible,  by  human  frailty,  but  never  changed  into  a 


SERMON  XXXII.  359 

different  plan,  never  declining  into  a  compromised, 
partial,  gradual  reform;  on  the  contrary,  resumed  with 
the  same  sincerity  as  that  with  which  it  set  out,  and 
with  a  force  of  resolution,  and  an  earnestness  of  prayer, 
increased  in  proportion  to  the  clearer  view  they  have 
acquired  of  their  danger  and  of  their  want. 


SERMON   XXXIII. 

THIS  LIFE  A  STATE  OF  PROBATION. 

Psalm  cix.  71. 

'■''It  is  good  for  me  that  I  have  been  affiicted^  that  I 
might  learn  thy  statutes.'''' 

Of  the  various  views,  under  which  human  life  has 
been  considered,  no  one  seems  so  reasonable,  as  that 
which  regards  it  as  a  state  of  probation  \  meaning,  by 
a  state  of  probation,  a  state  calculated  for  trying  us, 
and  calculated  for  improving  us.  A  state  of  complete 
enjoyment  and  happiness  it  certainly  is  not.  The  hopes, 
the  spirits  and  the  inexperience  of  young  men  and 
young  women  are  apt,  and  very  willing,  to  see  it  in 
this  light.  To  them  life  is  full  of  entertainment:  their 
relish  is  high:  their  expectations  unbounded;  for  a 
very  few  years  it  is  possible,  and  I  think  barely  possi- 
ble, that  they  may  go  on  without  check  or  interruption; 
but  they  will  be  cured  of  this  delusion.  Pain  and  sor- 
row, disease  and  infirmity,  accident  and  disappoint- 
ment, losses  and  distress,  will  soon  meet  them  in  their 
acquaintance,  their  families,  or  their  persons.  The 
hard-hearted  for  their  own,  the  tender  for  others'  woe. 


SERMON  XXXIII.  361 

will  always  find  and  feci,  enough  at  least  to  convince 
them,  that  this  world  was  not  made  for  a  scene  of  per 
petual  gaiety,  or  uninterrupted  enjoyment. 

Still  less  can  we  believe  that  it  was  made  for  a  place 
of  misery:  so  much  otherwise,  that  misery  is  in  no 
instance  the  end  or  object  of  contrivance.  We  are  sur- 
rounded by  contrivance  and  design.  A  human  body  is 
a  cluster  of  contrivances.  So  is  the  body  of  every  ani- 
mal: so  is  the  structure  of  every  plant:  so  is  even  the 
vilest  weed  that  grows  upon  the  road  side.  Contrivances 
therefore  infinite  in  number,  infinite  also  in  variety,  are 
all  directed  to  beneficial  purposes,  and  in  a  vast  plu- 
rality of  instances,  execute  their  purpose.  In  our  own 
bodies  only  reflect,  how  many  thousand  things  must  go 
right  for  us  to  be  an  hour  at  ease.  Yet  at  all  times  mul- 
titudes are  so;  and  are  so  without  being  sensible  how 
great  a  thing  it  is.  Too  much,  or  too  little  of  sensi- 
bility or  of  action,  in  any  one  of  the  almost  numberless 
organs,  or  of  any  part  of  the  numberless  organs,  by 
which  life  is  sustained,  may  be  productive  of  extreme 
anguish,  or  of  lasting  infirmity.  A  particle,  smaller  than 
an  atom  in  a  sunbeam,  may  in  a  wrong  place,  be  the 
occasion  of  the  loss  of  limbs,  of  senses,  or  of  life.  Yet 
luider  all  this  continual  jeopardy,  this  momentary  lia- 
bility to  danger  and  disorder,  we  are  preserved.  It  is 
not  possible  therefore  that  this  state  could  be  designed 
as  a  state  of  misery,  because  the  great  tendency  of  the 
designs,  which  we  see  in  the  universe,  is  to  counteract, 
to  prevent,  to  guard  against  it.  We  know  enough  of 
nature  to  be  assured,  that  misery,  universal,  irremedia- 

2Z 


362  SERMON  XXXIII. 

ble,  inexhaustible  misery,  was  in  the  Creator's  power, 
if  he  had  willed  it.  For  as  much  therefore  as  the  result 
is  so  much  otherwise,  we  are  certain,  that  no  such  pur- 
pose dwelt  in  the  divine  mind. 

But  since,  amidst  much  happiness,  and  amidst  con- 
trivances yor  happiness,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  (and  of 
many  we  can  judge,)  misery,  and  very  considerable 
portions  of  it  do  exist ;  it  becomes  a  natural  inquiry, 
to  what  end  this  mixture  of  good  and  evil  is  properly 
adapted.  And  I  think  the  scriptures  place  before  us, 
not  only  the  true,  (for,  if  we  believe  the  scriptures,  we 
must  believe  it  to  be  tliat,)  but  the  most  rational  and 
satisfactory  answer,  which  can  be  given  to  the  inquiry; 
namely,  that  it  is  intended  for  a  state  of  trial  and  pro- 
bation. For  it  appears  to  me  capable  of  proof,  both  that 
no  state  but  one,  which  contained  in  it  an  admixture  of 
good  and  evil,  would  be  suited  to  this  purpose ;  and 
also  that  our  present  state,  as  well  in  its  general  plan, 
as  in  its  particular  properties,  serves  this  purpose  with 
peculiar  propriety. 

A  state,  totally  incapable  of  misery,  could  not  be  a 
state  of  pi;obation.  It  would  not  be  a  state,  in  which 
virtue  or  vice  could  even  be  exercised  at  all;  I  mean 
that  large  class  of  virtues  and  vices,  which  we  compre- 
hend under  the  name  of  social  duties.  The  existence 
of  these  depends  upon  the  existence  of  misery,  as  well 
as  of  happiness  in  the  world,  and  of  different  degrees 
of  both :  because  their  very  nature  and  difference  con- 
sists in  promoting  or  preventing,  in  augmenting  or  di- 


SERMOX  XXXIII.  363 

minishing,  in  causing,  aggravating,  or  relieving  the 
wants,  sufferings,  and  distresses  of  our  fello^v  crea- 
tures. Compassion,  charity,  humanity,  benevolence, 
nor  even  justice  could  have  any  place  in  the  world,  if 
there  were  not  human  conditions  to  excite  them ;  ob- 
jects and  sufferings  upon  which  they  might  operate : 
misciy,  as  well  as  happiness,  which  might  be  affected 
by  them. 

Nor  would,  in  my  opinion,  the  purposes  of  trial  be 
sufficiently  provided  for,  by  a  state,  in  which  happiness 
and  misery  regularly  followed  virtue  and  vice:  I  mean 
in  which  there  was  no  happiness,  but  what  was  merited 
by  virtue ;  no  misery,  but  what  was  brought  on  by  vice. 
Such  a  state  would  be  a  state  of  retribution,  not  a  state 
of  probation.  It  may  be  our  state  hereafter;  it  may  be  a 
better  state,  but  it  is  not  a  state  of  probation ;  it  is  not  the 
state,  through  which  it  is  fitting  we  should  pass,  before 
we  enter  into  the  other:  for  when  we  speak  of  a  state  of 
probation,  we  speak  of  a  state,  in  which  the  character 
may  both  be  put  to  the  proof,  and  also  its  good  quali- 
ties be  confirmed  and  strengthened,  if  not  formed  and 
produced,  by  having  occasions  presented,  in  which 
they  may  be  called  forth  and  required.  Now  beside  that 
the  social  qualities,  which  have  been  mentioned,  would 
be  very  limited  in  their  exercise,  if  there  was  no  evil  in 
the  world,  but  what  was  plainly  a  punishment:  (for 
though  we  might  pity,  and  even  that  would  be  greatly 
checked,  we  could  not  actually  succour  or  relieve, 
without  disturbing  the  execution,  or  arresting,  as  it 
were,  the  hand  of  justice:)  beside  this  difficulty,  then^ 


364  SERMON  XXXIII. 

is  another  class  of  most  important  duties,  which  would 
be  in  a  great  measure  excluded.  They  are  the  severest, 
the  sublimest,  perhaps  the  most  meritorious,  of  which 
we  are  capable ;  I  mean  patience  and  composure  under 
distress,  pain,  and  affliction:  a  steadfast  keeping  up  of 
our  confidence  in  God,  and  our  dependence  upon  his 
final  goodness,  even  at  the  time  that  every  thing  pre- 
sent is  discouraging  and  adverse ;  and,  what  is  no  less 
difficult  to  retain,  a  cordial  desire  for  the  happiness  and 
comfort  of  others,  even  then,  when  we  are  deprived  of 
ou:  own.  I  say,  that  the  possession  of  this  temper  is 
almost  the  perfection  of  our  nature.  But  it  is  then  only 
possessed,  when  it  is  put  to  the  trial :  tried  at  all  it 
could  not  have  been  in  a  life,  made  up  only  of  pleasure 
and  gratification.  Few  things  are  easier  than  to  per- 
ceive, to  feel,  to  acknowledge,  to  extol  the  goodness 
of  God,  the  bounty  of  providence,  the  beauties  of  na- 
ture, when  all  things  go  well;  when  our  health,  our 
spirits,  our  circumstances  conspire  to  fill  our  hearts 
with  gladness,  and  our  tongues  with  praise.  This  is 
easy:  this  is  delightful.  None  but  they  who  are  sunk 
in  sensuality,  sottishness,  and  stupefaction,  or  whose 
understandings  are  dissipated  by  frivolous  pursuits; 
none  but  the  most  giddy  and  insensible  can  be  destitute 
of  these  sentiments.  But  this  is  not  the  trial,  or  the 
proof.  It  is  in  the  chambers  of  sickness ;  under  the 
stroke  of  affliction ;  amidst  the  pinchings  of  want,  the 
groans  of  pain,  the  pressures  of  infirmity;  in  grief,  in 
misfortune ;  through  gloom  and  horror,  that  it  will  be 
seen,  whether  we  hold  fast  our  hope,  our  confidence, 
our  trust  in  God ;  whether  this  hope  and  confidence  be 


SERMON  ^XXIII.  3G5 

able  to  produce  in  us  resignation,  accjuiesccnce  and 
submission. — And  as  those  dispositions,  vvliich  per- 
haps form  the  comparative  perfection  of  our  moral  na- 
ture, could  not  have  been  exercised  in  a  world  of  un- 
mixed gratification,  so  neither  would  they  have  found 
their  proper  office  or  object  in  a  state  of  strict  and  evi- 
dent retribution ;  that  is,  in  which  we  had  no  sufferings 
to  submit  to,  but  what  were  evidently  and  manifestly 
the  punishment  of  our  sins.  A  mere  submission  to 
punishment,  exidently  and  plainly  such,  would  not 
have  constituted,  at  least,  would  very  imperfectly 
have  constituted,  the  disposition,  which  we  speak  of, 
the  true  resignation  of  a  christian. 

It  seems  therefore  to  be  argued  with  very  great 
probability,  from  the  general  economy  of  things  around 
us,  that  our  present  state  was  meant  for  a  state  of 
probation;  because  positively  it  contains  that  admix- 
ture of  good  and  evil,  which  ought  to  be  found  in 
such  a  state  to  make  it  answer  its  purpose,  the  pro- 
duction, exercise  and  improvement  of  virtue :  and  be- 
cause negatively,  it  could  not  be  intended  either  for  a 
state  of  absolute  happiness,  or  a  state  of  absolute 
misery,  neither  of  which  it  is. 

We  may  now  also  observe  in  what  manner  many 
of  the  evils  of  life  are  adjusted  to  this  particular  end, 
and  how  also  they  are  contrived  to  soften  and  alleviate 
themselves  and  one  another.  It  will  be  enough  at  pre- 
sent, if  I  can  point  out  how  far  this  is  the  case  in  the 
two  instances,  which  of  all  others  the  most  nearh 


366  SERMON  XXXIII. 

and  seriously  affect  us,  death  and  disease.  The  events 
of  life  and  death  are  so  disposed,  as  to  beget,  in  all 
reflecting  minds,  a  constant  watchfulness.  "  What  I  say 
unto  you,  I  say  unto  all,  watch."  Hold  yourselves  in 
a  constant  state  of  preparation.  "  Be  ready,  for  ye 
know  not  when  your  Lord  cometh."  Had  there  been 
assigned  to  our  lives  a  certain  age  or  period,  to  which 
all,  or  almost  all,  were  sure  of  arriving:  in  the  younger 
part,  that  is  to  say,  in  nine  tenths  of  the  whole  of 
mankind,  there  would  have  been  such  an  absolute 
security  as  would  have  produced,  it  is  much  to  be 
feared,  the  utmost  neglect  of  duty,  of  religion,  of  God, 
of  themselves:  whilst  the  remaining  part  would  have 
been  too  much  overcome  with  the  certainty  of  their 
fate;  \ATyuid  have  too  much  resembled  the  condition 
of  those,  who  have  before  their  eyes  a  fixed  and  ap- 
pointed day  of  execution.  The  same  consequence 
would  have  ensued,  if  death  had  followed  any  known 
rule  whatever.  It  would  have  produced  security  in 
one  part  of  the  species,  and  despair  in  another.  The 
first  ^vould  have  been  in  the  highest  degree  dangerous 
to  the  character;  the  second  insupportable  to  the 
spirits.  The  same  observation  we  are  entitled  to  re- 
peat concerning  the  two  cases  of  sudden  death,  and  of 
death  brought  on  by  long  disease.  If  sudden  deaths 
never  occurred,  those,  who  found  themselves  f-ee 
from  disease,  would  be  in  perfect  safety :  they  would 
regard  themselves  as  out  of  the  reach  of  danger.  With 
all  apprehensions  they  would  lose  all  seriousness  and 
all  restraint:  and  those  persons,  who  the  most  want 
to  be  checked,  and  to  be  awakened  to  a  sense  of  thi 


SKRMON  XXXriI.  307 

consequences  of  virtue  and  vice,  the  strong,  the  healthy, 
and  the  active,  would  be  without  the  greatest  of  all 
checks,  that  Avhich  arises  fr.oni  the  constant  liability 
of  being  called  to  judgment.  If  there  were  no  sudden 
deaths,  the  most  awful  warning,  which  mortals  can 
receive,  would  be  lost:  that  consideration  which  carries 
the  mind  the  most  forcibly  to  religion,  which  con- 
A'inces  us  that  it  is  indeed  our  proper  concern,  namely, 
the  precariousness  of  our  present  condition,  would  be 
done  away.  On  the  other  hand,  if  sudden  deaths  Avere 
too  frequent,  human  life  might  become  too  perilous: 
there  would  not  be  stability  and  dependence  either 
upon  our  own  lives,  or  the  lives  of  those,  w  ith  whom 
we  \\'ere  connected,  sufficient  to  carry  on  the  regular 
offices  of  human  society.  In  this  respect  therefore  we 
see  much  wisdom.  Supposing  death  to  be  appointed 
as  the  mode  (and  some  mode  there  must  be)  of  passing 
from  one  state  of  existence  to  another,  the  manner,  in 
which  it  is  made  to  happen,  conduces  to  tlie  purposes 
of  warning  and  admonition,  without  overthrowing  the 
conduct  of  human  affairs. 

Of  sickness,  the  moral  and  religious  use  will  be  ac- 
knowledged, and,  in  fact,  is  acknoM  ledged  b}^  all  who 
have  experienced  it:  and  they,  who  have  not  experienced 
it,  own  it  to  be  a  fit  state  for  the  meditations,  the  offices 
of  religion.  The  fault,  I  fear,  is,  that  we  refer  ourselves 
too  much  to  that  state.  We  think  of  these  things  too 
little  in  health,  because  we  shall  necessarily  have  to 
think  of  them  when  we  come  to  die.  This  is  a  great 


368  SERMON  XXXIII. 

fault:  but  then  it  confesses,  what  is  undoubtedly  true, 
that  the  sick-bed  and  the  death-bed  shall  inevitably 
force  these  reflections  upon  us.  In  that  it  is  right, 
though  it  be  wrong  in  waiting  till  the  season  of  actual 
virtue  and  actual  reformation  be  past,  and  when,  con- 
sequently, the  sick-bed  and  the  death-bed  can  bring 
nothing  but  uncertainty,  horror  and  despair.  But  my 
present  subject  leads  me  to  consider  sickness,  not  so 
much  as  a  preparation  for  death,  as  the  trial  of  our 
virtue;  of  virtues  the  most  severe,  the  most  arduous, 
perhaps  the  best  pleasing  to  Almighty  God:  namely, 
trust  and  confidence  in  him,  under  circumstances  of 
discouragement  and  perplexity.  To  lift  up  the  feeble 
hands,  and  the  languid  eye;  to  draw  and  turn  with 
holy  hope  to  our  Creator,  when  every  comfort  for- 
sakes us,  and  every  help  fails:  to  feel  and  find  in  him, 
in  his  mercies,  his  promises,  in  the  works  of  his  pro- 
vidence, and  still  more  in  his  word,  and  in  the  reve- 
lation of  his  designs  by  Jesus  Christ,  such  rest  and 
consolation  to  the  soul,  as  to  stifle  our  complaints,  and 
pacify  our  murmurs;  to  beget  in  our  hearts  tranquillity 
and  confidence,  in  the  place  of  terror  and  consterna- 
tion, and  this,  with  simplicity  and  sincerity,  without 
having,  or  wishing  to  have,  one  human  witness  to  ob- 
serve or  know  it,  is  such  a  test  and  trial  of  faith  and 
hope,  of  patience  and  devotion,  as  cannot  fail  of  being 
in  a  very  high  degree  well-pleasing  to  the  Author  of 
our  natures,  the  Guardian,  the  Inspector,  and  the  Re 
warder  of  our  virtues.  It  is  true  in  this  instance,  as  it 
is  true  in  all,  that  whatever  tries  our  virtue,  strengthens 
and  improves  it.  Virtue  comes  out  of  the  fire  purer 


SERMON  XXXIII.  369 

and  brighter  tlian  it  went  into  it.  Many  virtues  arc 
not  only  proved,  but  produced  by  trials:  they  have 
properly  no  existence  without  them.  "  We  glory 
(saith  St.  Paul)  in  tribulation  also,  knowing  that  tri- 
bulation worketh  patience,  and  patience  experience, 
and  experience  hope." 

But  of  sickness  we  may  likewise  remark,  how  won- 
derfully it  reconciles  us  to  the  thoughts,  the  expecta- 
tion, and  the  approach  of  death,  and  how  this  becomes, 
in  the  hand  of  Providence,  an  example  of  one  evil  be- 
ing made  to  correct  another.  Without  question  the 
difference  is  wide  between  the  sensations  of  a  person, 
who  is  condemned  to  die  by  violence,  and  of  one,  who 
is  brought  gradually  to  his  end  by  the  progress  of  dis- 
ease; and  this  difference  sickness  produces.  To  the 
christian,  whose  mind  is  not  harrowed  up  by  the 
memory  of  unrepented  guilt,  the  calm  and  gentle  ap- 
proach of  his  dissolution  has  nothing  in  it  terrible.  In 
that  sacred  custody,  in  which,  they  that  sleep  in  Christ, 
will  be  preserved,  he  sees  a  rest  from  pain  and  weari- 
ness, from  trouble  and  distress :  gradually  withdrawn 
from  the  cares  and  interests  of  the  world;  more  and 
more  weaned  from  the  pleasures  of  the  body,  and  feel- 
ing the  weight  and  press  of  its  infirmities,  he  may  be 
brought  almost  to  desire  with  St.  Paul  to  be  no  lon- 
ger absent  from  Christ;  knowing,  as  he  did,  and  as  he 
assures  us,  that,  "  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  taber- 
nacle were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God,  a 
house  not  made  with  liands,  eternal  in  the  hea^'cns." 

3  A 


SERMON  XXXIV. 


THE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  ONE  ANOTHER  IN  A 
FUTURE  STATE. 

COLOSSIAN'S,  i.  29. 

••  Whom  we  preachy  xvaming  every  man^  and  teaching 
every  man  in  all  wisdom^  that  tue  may  present  every 
man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus. ^^ 

XhesE  words  have  a  primar)-  and  a  secondary  use. 
In  their  first  and  most  obvious  view,  they  express  the 
extreme  earnestness  and  anxiety,  with  which  the  apos- 
tle Paul  sought  the  salvation  of  his  con\erts.  To  bring 
men  to  Jesus  Christ  and,  when  brought,  to  turn  and 
save  them  from  their  sins,  and  to  keep  them  steadfast 
unto  che  end  in  the  faith  and  obedience,  to  which  they 
were  called,  was  the  whole  work  of  the  great  apostle'b 
ministr}',  the  desire  of  his  heart,  and  the  labour  of  his 
life:  it  w  as  that,  in  which  he  spent  all  his  time  and  all 
his  thoughts;  for  the  sake  of  which  he  tra\'elled  from 
country  to  country,  warning  ever)'  man,  as  he  speaks 
in  the  text,  and  exhorting  every  man,  enduring  every 
hardship  and  ever}'  injury,  ready  at  all  times  to  sacri- 
fice his  life,  and  at  last  actuidly  sacrificing  it,  in  order 
to  accomplish  the  great  purpose  of  his  mission,  that 


SERMON  XXXI\  .  371 

he  mij/ht  at  the  hst  day  "  present  his  beloved  converts 
perfect  in  Christ  Jcbus."  This  is  the  direct  scope  of 
the  text.  But  it  is  not  for  this  that  1  have  made  choice 
of  it.  The  last  clause  of  the  verse  contains  within  it, 
indirectly  and  by  implication,  a  doctrine,  certainly  of 
,^eat  personal  importance,  and,  I  trust,  also  of  g^eat 
comfort  to  every  man  who  hears  me.  The  clause  is 
this,  "  that  we  may  present  every-  man  perfect  in  Christ 
Jesus:"  by  which  I  understand  St.  Paul  to  express  his 
hope  and  prayer,  that  at  the  general  judgment  of  the 
world,  he  might  present  to  Christ  the  fruits  of  his  mi- 
nistry, the  converts  whom  he  had  made  to  his  faith 
and  religion,  and  might  present  them  perfect  in  every 
good  work.  And  if  this  be  righth  interpreted,  then  it 
affords  a  manifest  and  necessar}-  inference,  that  the 
saints  in  a  future  life  will  meet  and  be  known  again  to 
one  another;  for  how,  without  knowing  again  his  con- 
verts in  their  new  and  glorious  state,  could  St.  Paul 
desire  or  expect  to  present  them  at  the  last  day? 

My  brethren,  this  is  a  doctrine  of  real  consequence. 
That  we  shall  come  again  to  a  new  life;  that  we  shall 
by  some  method  or  other  be  made  happy,  or  be  made 
miserable,  in  that  new  state,  according  to  the  deeds 
done  in  the  body,  according  as  we  have  acted  and  go- 
verned ourselves  in  this  world,  is  a  point  affirmed  ab- 
solutely and  positively,  in  all  shapes,  and  under  ever}' 
variety  of  expression,  in  almost  every  page  of  the  New 
Testament.  It  is  the  grand  point  inculcated  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  that  jjook.  But  concerning  the 
particular  nature  of  the  change  we  are  to  undergo,  and 


372  SERMON  XXXIV. 

in  what  is  to  consist  the  employment  and  happiness  of 
those  blessed  spirits,  which  are  received  into  heaven, 
our  information,  even  under  the  gospel,  is  very  limited. 
We  own  it  is  so.  Even  St.  Paul,  who  had  extraordi- 
nary communications,  confessed  ''  that  in  these  things 
we  see  through  a  glass  darkly."  But  at  the  same  time 
that  we  acknowledge  that  we  know  little,  we  ought  to 
remember,  that  without  Christ,  we  should  have  known 
nothing.  It  might  not  be  possible  in  our  present  state 
to  convey  to  us,  by  words,  more  clear  or  explicit  con- 
ceptions of  what  will  hereafter  become  of  us;  if  pos- 
sible, it  might  not  be  fitting.  In  that  celebrated  chap- 
ter the  15th  of  the  Corinthians,  St.  Paul  makes  an  in- 
quisitive person  ask,  "  how  are  the  dead  raised,  and 
with  what  body  do  they  come?" — From  his  answer 
to  this  question  we  are  able,  I  think,  to  collect  thus 
much  clearly  and  certainly:  that  at  the  resurrection 
we  shall  have  bodies  of  some  sort  or  other:  that  they 
^vill  be  totally  different  from,  and  greatly  excelling  our 
present  bodies,  though  possibly  in  some  manner  or 
other  proceedhig  from  thern,  as  a  plant  from  its  seed; 
that  as  there  exists  in  nature  a  great  variety  of  animal 
substances;  one  flesh  of  man,  another  of  beasts,  an- 
other of  birds,  another  of  fishes;  as  there  exist  also 
great  differences  in  the  nature,  dignity  and  splendour 
of  inanimate  substances,  "  one  glory  of  the  sun,  an- 
other of  the  moon,  another  of  the  stars:"  so  there 
subsist  likewise,  in  the  magazines  of  God  Almighty's 
creation,  two  very  distinct  kinds  of  bodies,  (still  both 
bodies,)  a  natural  body  and  a  spiritual  body;  that  the 
natural  ]>ody  is  what  human  beings  bear  about  with 


SERMON  XXXIV.  373 

them  now,  the  spiritual  body,  far  surpassing  the  other, 
what  the  blessed  will  be  clothed  with  hereafter.  "  Flesh 
and  blood,"  our  Apostle  teaches,  "  cannot  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God,"  that  is,  is  by  no  means  suited  to 
that  state,  is  not  capable  of  it.  Yet  living  men  are  flesh 
and  blood ;  the  dead  in  the  graves  are  the  remains  of 
the  same:  wherefore  to  make  aU,  who  are  Christ's, 
capable  of  entering  into  his  eternal  kingdom,  and  at 
all  fitted  for  it,  a  great  change  shall  be  suddenly 
^\•rought.  As  well  all  the  just,  who  shall  be  alive  at 
the  comingof  Christ,  (whenever  that  event  takes  place,) 
as  those  who  shall  be  raised  from  the  dead,  shall  in  the 
t^^•inkling  of  an  eye  be  all  changed.  Bodies  they  shall 
retain  still,  but  so  altered  in  form  and  fashion,  in  nature 
and  substance,  that  "  this  corruptible  shall  put  on  in- 
corruption;"  what  is  now  necessarily  mortal  and  ne- 
cessarily perishable,  shall  acquire  a  fixed  and  perma- 
nent existence.  And  this  is  agreeable  to,  or  rather  the 
same  thing  as  Avhat  our  apostle  delivers  in  another 
epistle,  where  he  teaches  us,  that  "  Christ  shall  change 
our  vile  body  that  it  may  be  like  his  glorious  body;" 
a  change  so  great,  so  stupendous,  that  he  justly  styles 
it  an  act  of  Omnipotence,  "  according,  says  he,  to  the 
mighty  working,  whereby  he  is  able  to  subdue  all 
things  to  himself."  Since  then  a  great  alteration  will 
take  place  in  the  frame  and  constitution  of  the  bodies, 
with  which  we  shall  be  raised,  from  those  which  we 
carry  with  us  to  the  grave,  it  requires  some  authoritj- 
or  passage  of  scripture  to  prove,  that,  after  this  change, 
and  in  this  new  state,  we  shall  be  known  again  to  one 
another;  that  those,  who  know  each  other  on  earth. 


374  SERMON  XXXIV. 

will  know  each  other  in  heaven.  I  do  allow,  that  the 
general  strain  of  scripture  seems  to  suppose  it;  that 
when  St,  Paul  speaks,  *'  of  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  and  of  their  coming  to  the  general  as- 
sembly of  saints,"  it  seems  to  import,  that  we  should 
be  known  of  them,  and  of  one  another;  that  when 
Christ  declares,  "  that  the  secrets  of  the  heart  shall 
be  disclosed,"  it  imports,  that  they  shall  be  dis- 
closed to  those,  who  were  before  the  witnesses  of  our 
actions.  I  do  also  think,  that  it  is  agreeable  to  the 
dictates  of  reason  itself  to  believe,  that  the  same  great 
God,  who  brings  men  to  life  again,  will  bring  those 
together,  whom  death  has  separated.  When  his  power 
is  at  work  in  this  great  dispensation,  it  is  ver)'^  proba- 
ble, that  this  should  be  a  part  of  his  gracious  design. 
But  for  a  specific  text,  I  know  none  which  speaks  the 
thing  more  positively,  than  this  which  I  have  chosen. 
St.  Paul,  you  sec,  expected  that  he  should  know,  and 
be  known  to,  those  his  converts;  that  their  relation 
should  subsist  and  be  retained  between  them;  and 
with  this  hope  he  laboured  and  endeavoured,  instantly 
and  incessantly,  that  he  miglit  be  able  at  last  to  pre- 
sent them,  and  to  present  them  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Now  what  St.  Paul  appeared  to  look  for  as  to  the  ge- 
neral continuance,  or  rather  revival,  of  our  knowledge 
of  each  other  after  death,  every  man  who  strives  like 
St.  Paul,  to  attain  to  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  may 
expect,  as  well  as  he. 

Having  discoursed  thus  far  concerning  the  article  of 
the  doctrine  itself;  I  will  now  proceed  to  enforce  such 
practical  reflections,  as  result  from  it.  Now  it  is  neces- 


SERMON  XXXIV.  375 

sary  for  you  to  observe,  that  all,  which  is  here  pro- 
duced from  scripture,  concerning  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead,  relates  solely  to  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 
It  is  of  them  only,  that  St.  Paul  speaks  in  the  15th 
chapter  of  the  Corinthians.  It  is  of  the  body  of  him, 
who  is  accepted  in  Christ,  that  the  apjostle  declares, 
"that  it  is  sown  in  dishonour,  but  raised  in  glory; 
sown  in  weakness,  raised  in  power."  Likewise,  when 
he  speaks,  in  another  place,  of  "  Christ  changing  our 
vile  bodies  that  they  may  be  like  his  glorious  body:'- 
it  is  of  the  bodies  of  Christ's  Saints  alone,  of  whom  this 
is  said.  This  point  is,  I  think,  agreed  upon  amongst 
learned  men,  and  is  indeed  very  plain.  In  like  man- 
ner, in  the  passage  of  the  text,  and,  I  think,  it  will  be 
found  true  of  every  other,  in  which  mankind  knowing 
one  another  in  a  future  life  is  implied,  the  implication 
extends  only  to  those,  who  are  received  amongst  the 
blessed.  Whom  was  St.  Paul  to  know  ?  even  those, 
whom  he  was  to  present  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus.  Con- 
cerning the  reprobate  and  rejected,  whether  they  wdll 
not  be  banished  from  the  presence  of  God,  and  from 
all  their  former  relations;  whether  they  will  not  be  lost, 
as  ta  all  happiness  of  their  own,  so  to  the  knowledge 
of  those,  who  knew  them  in  this  mortal  state,  we  have 
from  scripture  no  assurance  or  intimation  whatever. 
One  thing  seems  to  follow  with  probability  from  the 
nature  of  the  thing,  namely,  that,  if  the  \vicked  be 
known  to  one  another  in  a  state  of  perdition,  their 
knowledge  will  only  serve  to  aggravate  their  miser}'. 

What  then  is  the  inference  from  ali  tliis?  do  we 


N 


376  SERMON  XXXIV. 

seek,  do  we  covet  earnestly  to  be  restored  to  the  so- 
ciety of  those,  who  were  once  near  and  dear  to  us, 
and  who  are  gone  before  ?  it  is  only  by  leading  godly 
lives,  that  we  can  hope  to  hiwe  this  wish  accomplished. 
Should  we  prefer,  to  all  delights,  to  all  pleasures  in  the 
world,  the  satisfaction  of  meeting  again,  in  happiness 
and  peace,  those  whose  presence,  whilst  they  were 
amongst  us,  made  up  the  comfort  and  enjoyment  of 
our  lives?  it  must  be,  by  giving  up  our  sins,  by  part- 
ing with  our  criminal  delights  and  guilty  pursuits,  that 
we  can  ever  expect  to  attain  to  this  satisfaction.  Is 
there  a  great  difference  between  the  thought  of  losing 
those  we  love  for  ever;  of  taking  at  their  deaths  or 
our  own  an  eternal  farewel,  never  to  see  them  more, 
and  the  reflection  that  we  are  about  to  be  separated, 
for  a  few  years  at  the  longest,  to  be  united  with  them 
in  a  new  and  better  state  of  mutual  existence?  is  there, 
1  say,  a  difference  to  the  heart  of  man  between  these 
two  things?  and  does  it  not  call  upon  u§  to  strive  with 
redoubled  endeavours,  that  the  case  truly  may  turn 
out  so?  The  more  and  more  we  reflect  upon  the  dif- 
ference, between  the  consequences  of  a  lewd,  unthink- 
ing, careless,  profane,  dishonest  life;  and  a  life  of  reli- 
gion, sobriety,  seriousness,  good  actions  and  good 
principles,  the  more  we  shall  see  the  madness  and  stu- 
pidity of  the  one,  and  the  true  solid  wisdom  of  the 
other.  This  is  one  of  the  distinctions.  If  we  go  on  in  our 
sins,  we  are  not  to  expect  to  awaken  to  a  joyful  meeting 
with  our  friends  and  relatives  and  dear  connexions.  If 
we  turn  away  from  our  sins,  and  take  up  religion  in 
earnest,  we  may.  My  brethren,  religion  disarniseven 


SERMON  XXXIV.  v-      377 

death.  It  disarms  it  of  that,  which  is  its  bitterness  and 
its  sting,  the  power  of  dividing  those,  who  are  dear 
to  one  another.  But  this  blessing,  like  every  blessing 
which  it  promises,  is  only  to  the  just  and  good,  to  the 
peifjitent  and  reformed,  to  those,  who  are  touched  at 
the  heart 'with  a  sense  of  its  importance:  who  know 
thoroughly  and  experimentally,  who  feel,  in  their  in- 
ward mind  and  consciences,  that  religion  is  the  only 
course  that  can  end  well:  that  can  bring  either  them 
or  theirs  to  the  presence  of  (aod,  blessed  for  evermore; 
that  can  cause  them,  afteJthe  toils  of  life  and  struggle 
of  death  are  over,  to  meet  again  in  a  joyful  deliverance 
from  the  grave;  in  a  new  and  nev^r  ceasing  happiness, 
in  the  presence  and  society  of  one  another. 


3B 


SERMON  XXXV. 


THE  GENERAL  RESURRECTION. 

John,  V.  28,  29. 

"  The  hour  is  comings  in  the  which  all  that  are  in 
the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice^  and  shall  come  forth; 
they  that  have  done  good^  unto  the  resurrection  of  life; 
and  they  that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of 
damnation  y 

These  words  are  so  important,  that  if  Jesus  Christ 
had  never  delivered  any  other,  if  he  had  come  into  the 
world  and  pronounced  only  this  simple  declaration, 
and  proved  the  truth  and  certainty  of  it  by  the  mira- 
cles which  he  wrought,  he  would  have  left  enough  to 
have  guided  his  followers  to  everlasting  happiness:  he 
would  have  done  more  towards  making  mankind  vir- 
tuous and  happy,  than  all  the  teachers  and  all  the  wis- 
dom, that  ever  appeared  upon  earth,  had  done  before 
him.  We  should  each  and  every  one  of  us  have  owed 
more  to  him  for  this  single  piece  of  intelligence,  than 
we  owe  to  our  parents,  our  dearest  friend,  or  the  best 
benefactor  we  have.  This  text  is  the  poor  man's  creed. 
It  is  his  religion:  it  is  to  be  imprinted  upon  his  memo- 
ry, and  upon  his  heart:  it  is  what  the  most  simple  can 


SERMON  XXXV.  379 

-understand:  it  is  what,  when  understood  and  believed, 
excels  all  the  knowledge  and  learning  in  the  universe: 
it  is  what  we  are  to  carry  about  with  us  in  our 
thoughts:  daily  remember  and  daily  reflect  upon:  re- 
member not  only  at  church,  not  only  in  our  devotions, 
or  in  our  set  meditations,  but  in  our  business,  our 
pleasures,  in  whatever  we  intend,  plan,  or  execute, 
whatever  we  think  about,  or  whatever  we  set  about ; 
remember,  that  "  they  that  have  done  good  shall  come 
unto  the  resurrection  of  life:  they  that  have  done  e\  il 
unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 

Reflect  what  great  things  this  short  sentence  con 
tains.  It  teaches  us,  beyond  contradiction,  that  all  does 
not  end  here:  that  our  happiness  or  misery  is  not  over 
at  our  death:  that  a  new  state  of  things  will  begin  with 
every  one  of  us,  and  that  in  a  short  time.  This  point,  I 
say,  our  Saviour  proves  beyond  contradiction:  and 
how  does  he  prove  it?  by  healing  the  sick,  by  restor- 
ing sight  to  the  blind,  by  raising  the  dead,  by  various 
astonishing  and  incontestible  miracles;  and  above  all, 
by  coming  himself  to  life  again,  after  being  three  da}  s 
dead  and  buried,  he  proved^  that  God  Almighty  was 
with  him ;  that  he  came  from  God:  that  he  knew  what 
passed  in  the  other  world:  that  he  had  God's  own  au- 
thority to  say  and  promise  this  to  mankind.  Upon  the 
faith  and  trust  of  this  promise,  we  know  that  we  shall 
rise  again:  all  are  equally  assured  of  it,  from  the  high- 
est to  the  lowest.  Wise  and  learned  men  thought  in- 
deed the  same  thing  before:  they  concluded  it  to  be 
so  from  probable  argument  and  reasonings;  but  this 


380  SERMON  XXXV. 

was  not  like  having  it,  as  we  have  it,  from  God  him- 
self; or,  what  is  just  the  same  thing,  from  the  mouth 
of  a  person,  to  whom  God  gave  witness  by  signs  and 
wonders,  and  mighty  deeds.  They  were  far  short  of 
our  certainty,  who  did  study  it  the  deepest.  There 
Were  but  few,  who  could  study  or  comprehend  it  at 
all.  Blessed  be  God,  we  are  all  informed,  we  are  all, 
from  the  most  learned  to  the  most  ignorant,  made  sure 
and  certain  of  it. 

Having  then  this  great  doctrine  secured,  that  we 
shall  all  come  again  into  a  new  world  and  a  new  life, 
the  next  great  point,  which  every  serious  mind  will 
turn  to,  the  second  grand  question  to  be  asked,  is,  who 
are  to  be  happy,  and  who  will  be  miserable  in  that 
other  state?  The  text  satisfies  us  completely  upon  this 
head.  You  ask,  who  shall  come  to  the  resurrection  of 
life?  The  text  replies,  they  that  have  done  good.  Ob- 
serve well,  and  never  forget  this  answer.  It  is  not  the 
wise,  the  learned,  the  great,  the  honoured,  the  profes- 
sor of  this  or  that  doctrine,  the  member  of  this  church, 
or  the  maintainer  of  that  article  of  faith,  but  he  that 
doeth  good;  he^  of  whatever  quality  or  condition,  who 
strives  honestly  to  make  his  life  of  service  to  those 
about  him ;  to  be  useful  in  his  calling,  and  to  his  ge- 
neration ;  to  his  family,  to  his  neighbourhood,  and,  ac- 
cording to  his  ability,  to  his  country  and  to  mankind; 
"  he  that  doeth  good.'*  All  the  rest,  Avithout  this,  goes 
for  nothing,  though  he  understand  the\  things  of  reli- 
gion ever  so  well;  or  believe  ever  so  rightly;  though 
he  cry,  Lord,  Lord;  be  he  ever  so  constant  and  devout 


SERMON  XXXV.  3ai 

iii  his  prayers ;  or  talk  ever  so  much,  or  so  well,  or  so 
earnestly  for  religion:  unless  he  do  good:  unless  his  ac- 
tions, and  dealings,  and  behaviour  come  up  to  his 
knowledge,  and  his  discourse  correspond  with  his  out- 
ward profession  and  belief,  it  will  avail  him  nothing; 
he  is  not  the  man,  to  whom  Jesus  Christ  hath  promis- 
ed in  the  text,  that  he  shall  come  to  the  resurrection  of 
life.  The  issue  of  life  and  death  is  put  upon  our  con- 
duct and  behaviour;  that  is  made  the  test  we  are  to  be 
tried  bv. 

Again,  When  we  read  in  scripture,  when  we  know 
from  positive  and  undoubted  authority,  that  misery 
and  destruction,  ruin,  torment,  and  damnation  are  re- 
served for  some,  it  is  surely  the  most  natural,  the 
most  interesting  of  all  inquiries  to  know  for  whom. 
The  text  tells  us,  ''  for  them  that  have  done  evil," 

Here,  let  the  timorous  conscience  take  courage.  It 
is  not  any  man's  errors,  or  ignorance ;  his  want  of  un- 
derstanding, or  education,  or  ability,  that  will  be  laid 
to  his  charge  at  the  day  of  Judgment;  or  that  will 
bring  him  into  danger  of  the  damnation,  which  the 
gospel  threatens;  it  is  having  done  evil;  having  wilfully 
gone  about  to  disobey  what  he  knew  to  be  the  will 
and  command  of  his  Creator,  by  committing  mischief, 
and  doing  wrong  and  injury  to  his  fellow  creatures. 

Let  the  bold  and  presumptuous  sinner  hear  this 
text  with  fear  and  trembling.  Let  him,  who  cares  not 


'382  SERMON  XXXV. 

what  misery  he  occasions,  what  evil  and  harm  he  does, 
if  he  can  but  compass  his  purpose,  carry  his  own  end, 
or  serve  his  wicked  lusts  and  pleasures;  let  him,  I 
say,  be  given  to  uiiilerstand,  what  he  has  to  look  for; 
"  he  that  doeth  evil  shall  come  to  the  Resurrection  of 
damnation;"  this  is  absolute,  final,  and  peremptory; 
here  is  no  exception,  no  excuse,  no  respect  of  person, 
or  condition. 

They,  that  have  done  good,  shall  come  again  unto 
the  Resurrection  of  life.  But,  alas!  I  hear  you  say, 
What  good  can  I  do?  my  means  and  my  opportunities 
are  too  small  and  straitened  to  think  of  doing  good. 
You  do  not  sufficieotly  reflect,  what  doing  good  is. 
You  are  apt  to  confine  the  notion  of  it  to  giving  to 
others,  and  giving  liberally.  This,  no  doubt,  is  right 
and  meritorious;  but  it  is  certainly  not  in  every  man's 
power;  comparatively  speaking,  it  is,  indeed,  in  the 
power  of  very  few.  But  doing  good  is  of  a  much 
more  general  nature;  and  is  in  a  greater  and  less 
degree  practicable  by  all ;  for,  whenever  we  make  one 
human  creature  happier,  or  better  than  he  would  have 
been  without  our  help,  then  we  do  good;  and,  when 
we  do  this  from  a  proper  motive,  that  is,-  with  a  sense 
and  a  desire  of  pleasing  God  by  doing  it,  then  we  do 
good  in  the  true  sense  of  the  text,  and  of  God's  gra- 
cious promise.  Now  let  every  one,  in  particular,  re 
fleet,  whether,  in  this  sense,  he  has  not  some  good  in 
his  power;  some  within  his  own  doors,  to  his  family, 
his  children,  his  kindred;  bv  his  labour,  his  authority. 


SERMON  XXXV.  -383 

Ms  example,  by  bringing  them  up,  and  keeping  them 
in  the  way  of  passing  their  lives  honestly,  and  quietly, 
and  usefully.  What  good  more  important,  more  prac- 
ticable than  this  is?  Again,  something  may  be  done 
beyond  our  own  household :  •  by  acts  of  tenderness, 
kindness,  of  help  and  compassion  to  our  neighbours. 
Not  a  particle  of  this  will  be  lost.  It  is  all  set  down 
in  the  book  of  life;  and  happy  are  they,  who  have 
much  there !  And  again,  if  any  of  us  be  really  sorry, 
that  we  have  not  so  much  in  our  power,  as  we  would 
desire,  let  us  remember  this  short  rule,  that  since  we 
can  do  little  good,  to  take  care  that  we  do  no  harm. 
Let  us  show  our  sincerity  by  our  innocence:  that,  at 
least,  is  always  in  our  power. 

Finally,  let  us  reflect  that  in  the  habitations  of  life  are 
many  mansions;  rewards  of  various  orders  and  de- 
grees, proportioned  to  our  various  degrees  of  virtue 
and  exertion  here.  "  He  that  soweth  plenteously,  shall 
reap  plenteously.'"  We  can  never  do  too  much ;  never 
be  too  earnest  in  doing  good;  because  every  good 
action  here  will,  we  are  certain,  be  an  addition  of  hap- 
piness hereafter;  will  advance  us  to  a  better  condition 
in  the  life  to  come,  whatever  be  our  lot  or  success  in 
this.  God  will  not  fail  of  his  promise.  He  hath  com- 
missioned his  beloved  Son  to  tell  us,  that  they  that 
have  done  good  shall  enter  into  the  resurrection  of 
life.  Let  us  humbly  and  thankfully  accept  his  gracious 
oiFer.  We  have  but  one  business  in  this  world.  It  is 
to  strive  to  make  us  worthy  of  a  better.  Whatever 


S84  SERMON  XXXV. 

this  trial  may  cost  us :  how  long,  how  earnestly,  how 
patiently  soever,  through  whatever  difficulties,  by 
whatever  toils  we  endeavour  to  obey  and  please  our 
Maker,  we  are  supported  in  them  by  this  solid  and 
never  ceasing  consolation,  "  that  our  labour  is  not  in 
vain  in  the  Lord." 


«.?^^'' 


•FINIS. 


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