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SERMONS,

H U G H B L A I R, D. D.

One of the Ministers ot the High Church,

AND

Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettresih the
University, of Edinburgh.

To which is prefixed, that admired Tract

ON THE

INTERNAL EVIDENCE

OF THE

CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

By SOAME JENYNS,
Of theBritilh Parliament.

V O I. U M E THE FIRST.

THE SIXTEENTH EDITION,

LONDON, Printed:—

BALTIMORE: Re-printed, for the Rev. M. L. Weems,

by Samuel and John Adams, Book-Printers, ia

AJarkct-Jhect, between South and Gay-Jireets.

M DCC XCIl.

»

VIE

O F T H E

INTERNAL EVIDENCE

OF T H li

CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

O S T of the writers, who have undertaken to prove the di-
vine origin of the Chriftian ReHgion, have had rccourfe to
arguments drawn from thefe three heads : the prophecies ftill extant
in the Old Teftament, the miracles recorded in the New, or the in-
ternal evidence arifing from that excellence, and thofe clear marks of
lupernatural interpofition, which arc fo confpicuous in the religion
itfelf : The two former have been fufficiently explained and enforced
by the ablefi: pens ; but the lafl, which feems to carry with it the
greateft degree of convidlion, has never, I think, been confidcred
with that attention which it deferves.

I inean not -here to depreciate the proc^arifing from either pro-
phecies, or m-iacles : tliey both have oriwht to have their proper
weight; prophecies are permanent miracles, wliofe authority is fuf-
ficiently corifirmed by their completion, and are therefore folid proofs
of the fupernatural origin of a religion, whofe truth they were in-
tended to teilify ; fuch are thofe to be found in various parts of the
fcriptures relative to the coming of the Mefliah, the deftru6lion of Jc-
Tufalem, and the unexampled Hate in Vy'h.ich the Jews have ever fines
continued, all fo circumfiantially defcriplivc of the events, that they
fsem rather hillories of paft, than prediclioq^ of future tranfadlions j

and

and whoever will ferioiifly confider the immenfe diftance of time be-
tween /ome of them, and the events which they foretcl, the uninter-
rupted chain hy which they are connecled for many thonfand years,
how exactly tiiey coircfpond with thofe events, and how totally un-
anplicable they are to ail others in the hi(iory of mankind^ I lay,
whoever conluiers thele circumftances, he will fcarcely be perfnaded
to believe, that they can be the productions of preceding artifice, or
poiierior application, or can entertain the leaft doubt of their being
derived from fupernatural infpiration.

The miracles recorded in the New Teflament to have been per-
formed by Chrif}: and his Apoftles, were certainly convincing proofs
of their divine commillion to thofe who faw them ; and as they were
feen by luch numbers, and areas well atte(!ed, as other hiliorical
hSi?, and abcWe all, as t!iey were wrought on fo great and fo wonder-
ful an occafion, they muft fiill be admitted as evidence of no inconfi-
derable force. To prove therefore the truth of the Chriffian Religion,
we Ihall begin by Ihev^'ing the internal marks of Divinity, which arc
ltp.m[)ed upon it.

What pure Chriflianity is, dlvefled of all its ornaments, appen-
dages, and corruption, I pretend nt^t to fay ; but what it is not, I
will venture to aihrm, which is, that it is noi the offspring of fraud
pr ficlion ; fuch on a fuperficial view, I know it mufl appear to every
.man whofe thoughts have been altogether em.ployed on ether fubjc£ls ;
but if any one will give himfelf the trouble to examine it with accu-
racy and candour, he will plainly fee that however fraud and fiftion
may have grown up with it, yet it never could have been grafted on the
fame f^ock, nor planted by the fame hand.

To afcertain the true fyllem, and genuine do£l:rincs of this religi-
on, and to remove all the rubbilh, which artifice and ignorance have
hecn hcapirig tipor. it during the long runof feventec^i hundred years,
would indeed be an arduous tafk, which I (hall by no means under-
take^ but to fhevv, thatjt cannot pofTibly be derived from human
wifilom, or human impoftuic, is a work, I think, attended -v/ith no
great difficidty, and requiring jio extraordinary abilities, and therefore
I fhall attempt that, apd tjiat alotie, by flating, and then explaining
the f(^llow1ng plain, and undeniable propofitions.

Fird;, Th.at there is now ev.tant, a book, intitled, the Nev/ Tefta-
ment.

Secondly, That from this book niay be extratS^cd a fyftem of reli-
gion entirely new, both vviih regard to the objecl and the dodfrincs,

hot,

nAt only infinitely fupcrior to, but unlike every thing, which had ever
before entered into theinind ot man.

Thirdly, That from this hook may likewife be cqlleded a fyftem of
cthicks, in which every moral precept founded on reafon is carried to
a higher degree of purity and pcrfcdion, than in any other ot the
wilelt philolophers of preceding ages ; every moral precept founded
on falfe principles is totally omitted, and many new precepts added
peculiarly correfponding with the new objedts of this religion.

Lafliy, That fuch a fyffcm of religion and morality could not pof-
fibly have been the work of any man, or fet of men ; much lefs of
thofe obfcure, ignorant, and illiterate perfons, who adually did dif-
cover, and pnblilh it to the world ; and that therefore it mull un-
doubtedly have been effe<Sfed by the interpofition of divine power,
that is, that it mult derive its origin from God.

PROPOSITION I.

VERY little need be faid, to eflablifh my firft propofition,
which is iingly this : that there is now extant, a book, intitled,
the New Teftament : that is, there is a collection of writings dif-
tinguilhed by that denomination, containing four hiftorical accounts
of the birth, life, a6lions, difcourfes and death of an extraordinary
perfon named Jefus Chrilt, who was born in the reign of Auguftiis
Caefar, preached a new religion throughout the country of Judaea, and
was put to a cruel and ignominious death in the reign of Tiberius.
Alio one other hiltorical account of the travels, tranfa6tions, and
orations of fojne mean and illiterate men, known by the title of his
Apoltles, whom he commiflioned to propagate his religion after his
death ; which he foretold them he mult fuffer in confirmation of its
truth. To thefe are added feveral epiftles, addreifed by thefe perfons
to their fellow-labourers in this work, or to the feveral churches or
Societies of chriltians, which they had eltablilhed in the feveral cities
through which they bad palfed.

it would not be ditficult to prove, that thefe books were written
foon alter thole extraordinary events, which are the fubje6ts of them ;
SLS we find them quoted, and referred to by an uninterrupted fuccei-
fiou ol writers from thole to the prefent times : nor would it be lefs
eafy to fhew, that the truth of all thole events, miracles only except-
ed, can no more be rcaionably queftioncd, than the trutiiof any other
facts recorded iii any hillory whatever : as there can be no more rea-
fon to douljt, ths4 ihcre exiltcd fuch a perfon as Jefus Chrift, fpeak-

/ . f 6 )

ing, acting, and (afiefing in fuch a manner as is there defcribed, than
that tlierc were fuch men as Tiberius, Herod, or Pontius Pi!ate, his
coteniporaries; or to fu(pc*il that Peter, Paul and Jamis, were not
the aiithors of thofe epi files, to which their names are affixed, thart'
that Cicero and Phny did not write thofe which arc alcribed to tliem.
It might alfo be made appear, that thefe books having been wrote by
various perfons at different times, and in diftant places, could not po!li-
bly have been the work of a hngle impoRor, nor of a fraudulent com-
bination, being al! [lamped wiih the lame marks of an unllorm origi-
nality in their very frame and compofuion.

But all thefe cir'cumllances 1 ihall pafs over unobfervcd, asahey do
not fall in with the couifc of mv argument, nor are necefiary for the
iupport of it. All that I alfert is a plain lad, which cannot be deni-
ed, that fuch writings do now exiit.

P R O P O S I T I O N II.

Y fecond propofition is not quite fo hmple, but I think, not
lefs undeniable than th^ former, and is this : Tiiat from this
book may be extracted a lyftem of religion entirely new, both with
regard to iheobjcil, and the doolrines, not only inhnitely fuperior to,
but totally unlike every thing whicii had ever before entered into the
inind of man.

Pirft then. The obje£t of this religion is entirely new, and is this,
to prepare us by a (tate ot probaiion for the kingdom of heaven.
This is every where profelled by Clirilt and his Apoftles to be the chief
end of the chriftian'slife ; the crown for which he is to contend, the
goal to which he is to run, the harveft which is to pay him for all
his labours : Yet previous to their preaching, no fuch prize was e--
ver hung out to mankind, nor any means prefcribed for the attain-
ment ot it.

It is indeed true, that fomc of the philofophers of antiquity enter-
tained notions of a future Rate, but mixed with much doubt and un-
certainty: their legillators alfo endeavoured to infufc into the minds
of the people abelicf of rewards andpunifliments after death; but bythis
they only intended to give a fantlion to their laws, and to enforce the ■
pra£liceot virtue for the beneht of mankirid in the prefent life ; this
alone feems to have been their end, and a meritorious end it was ;,
but Chridianiiy not only operates more clfcclually to this end, but
has a nobler dcfign in view, which is by a proper education here to
|€ndtr us fit members of a cclcilial fociety liereafter. In all formcf

religions

f 7 .)

rcligioris, the gocd of the prefcnt life was the firji object ; in the

Cluiltian it is but \.\\tjecond\ in thofe, men were incited to promote that
£;ood by the hopes of -x future reward \ in this the piaifl^^ice ot virtue is en-
joined in order to qualify them for tliat reward. There is great difference,
I appreheiui, in thefe two plans, that is, an adhering to virtue froin
US piefent utility in expectation of future happinefs ; and this, living
in (uch a manner as to qualify us for the acceptance and enjoyment
of that happinefs ; and the conx!u6l and difpofitions of tbofe vvhoatSl
on thefe different principles, muit be no lefs different ; on the firff,
the conlfant pradice of juRice, temperance, and fobriety, will be
fuff.cicnt ; but on the latter, we mull add to thefe an habitual piety,
faith, refignation, and contempt of the world : tiie hrft may make us
very good citizens, but will never produce a tolerable chrldian.
Hence it is that chriltianity infuTs more llrongly, than any prccedinf^
inditution, religiousor moral, on purity of heart and a benevolent dif-
pofition ; becaufe thefe are abfolutely neceilary to its great end; but
in thofe whole recommendations of virtue regard the prcfent life onlvt
and whofe promifed rewards in anotlicr were low and fcnfual, no pre-
pai.atory qualifications were reqtuflte to enable men to prai^ifc the one,
or to enjoy the other ; and tliercfore we fee this objetl is peculiar to
this religion ; and with it was entirely new.

But although this obje6l, and the principle on which it is foundetl
were new, and perhaps undifcovcrablc by rcafon, yet when difcovcr-
cd, they arc fo confonant to it, that we cannot but readily alfent to
them. For the truth of this principle, that the prefent life is a flate
of jirobation, and, education to prepare us for anotiier, is conlirmed
by every thing whicii wc fee around us : It is llic only key which
can open to us the defigns of Providence in tlie oeconomy of humr.u
affairs, the only clue, which can guide us through that pathlcfs wil-
dernef?, and the only plan on whicli this world could poiiibiy have
been formed, or on which the hifiory of it can be comprehqmled or
explained. It could never have been. formed on a plan of happinefs*
becaufe it is every where ovcrfpreail with innumerable mlferies ; nor
ot mifcry, becaufe it is interfperled with many enjoyments: It could
not have been conilituted for a fccne of wiidoin ai;d virtu?, becaufe
the lilffory of mankind is litt'c more than a detail of their follies,
and wickedncfs : Nor of vice, becaufe that is no plan at all, being
deffri.'dive of ail exiilence, and confequci'.t'y of its own : L-ut on
I'l.is lydem all iliat w^e here meet with, may be eafdy accounted for ;
f{-r this mixture of happinefs and mifcfy. of virtue snd vice, neccf-
farily refults !;(>m a Rate of probation ■:\X\'\ cducaticn ; as probation

iiiiiilies

implies trials, fufferings and a capacity of ofFending ; and education
a propriety of a chaftifemcnt tor thole offences.

In the next place the do£lrines of this religion are equally new
with the obje6l, and contain ideas of God, and of man, of the pre-
fent, and ot a future life; and of the relations which all thefe bear
to each other totally unheard of, and quite dilTimllar from any which
had ever been thought on, previous to its publication. No other e-
vcr drew fojufl: a portrait of the worthlelfnefs of this world, and all
its purfuils, nor exhibited fuch diftincl, lively and exquifite pidures
ot the joys of another ; of the rehirreclion of the dead, the lalt
judgment, and the triumphs of the righteous in that tremendous day,
*' v/hen this corruptible Ihall put on incorruption, and this mortal Ihall
put on immortality." * No other has ever reprefented the Supreme
Being in the charader of three perfons united in one God, + No
other has attempted to reconcile thole feeming contradictory but both
true propohiions, the contingency of future events, and the fore-
knowledge of God, or the free-will of the creature with the over-
ruling grace of the Creator. No other has fo fully declaretl the ne-^
celliiy ot wickednefs and punilliment, yet fo eirccUially inftru6led
individuals to refill the one, and to efcape the other ; no other has
ever preteiided to give any account of the depravity of man, or to
point out any remedy for it ; no other has ventured to declare the
unpardonable nature of fin without the influence of a mediatorial
interpofition, and a vicarious atonement from the fiifferings ot a fu-.
perior Being. ^ Thefe wonderful doclrines are ail fo far removed from
every tra6t of the human imagination, that it feems equally impof-
fible, that they Ihould ever have been derived from the knowledge,
or the artifice of man.

Some

* 1 Cor. XV. 53.

+ That there fubftjis fome fuch union in the divine nature,' the whole
tenor of the New "Jejiament Jeetiis to exprefs, and it was fo underfiood in
the earlieji ages : But hoiv this union Juhfifis zve arc not infornifd, and
therefore on thefe quejiions it is not only unneccjj'ary, hut improper for us t9
decide,

i That Chrlfl fuffered and died as an atonement for the fins of man-
hnd, is a doBrine jo couflantJy and fo f.rongly enforced through every part
ef the New Jejiament, that zvhoever will ferloufly perufe thofe writings,
and deny that it is there, may, with as much reafon and truth, after reading
the ivorks of Thucydides and Livy, afj'ert, that in them no mention is made
*f anyfu^s relative to the hifiorits of Greta and Rome.

( 9 )

Some indeed there are, who by perverting the eftabliflicd fi^nifica-
fKan iif^ vvords {whicii they tall explaining) have ventured to ex-
punge all thefe do6lrines out of the fcripturcs, lor no other reafon

than that they are not able to comprehend them ; and argue thus:

Yhe fcripfures are the word of God ; in his word no propofitions
contradidory to reafon can have apIaGe;thele propolitions are contra-
dictory to reafon, and therefore they are not there: But if thefe bold
alfertors would claim any regard, they (hould reverfe their argument,
and fay, — Thefe do6lrines make a part, and a material part of the
fcriptures, they are contradictory to reafon ; no proportions contra-
didlory to reafon can be a part of the word of God, and therefore
neither the fcriptures, nor the pretended revelation contained in them,
can be derived from him : This would be an argument worthy oi
rational and candid Dei its, and demand a relpcctful attention ; but
when men pretend to difprovefadls by reafoning, they have no right
to expert an anfwer.

And here I cannot omit obferving, that the perfonal character of
the author of this religion is no lels new, and extraordinarv, than
. the religion itfelf, . who " fpake as never man fpake,"'^ and lived as
nevf.r man lived : For inllance, he is the o"nly founder of a relit^^ioa
in the hiilory of mankind, which is totally unconne(Eled with all hu-
man policy and government ; and therefore totally unconducive to
any worldly purpofe whatever : All others, Mahomet, Noma, and
even Mofes himfelf, blended their religious inijitutions with their
civil, and by them obtained dominion over thei" rcfpe£tive people ;
t)ut Chrilt neither aimed at, nor would accept of any fuch power ; he
rcjev'^ted every objedl, which all other men purfue, and made choice
of all thofe which others fly from, and are afraid of: He refufed
power, riches, "honours and plcafure, and courted poverty, rgnominy*
tortures, and death. Many have been the enthufiafts and impoRors,
who have endeavoured to impofe on the world pretended revelations,'
and fome of them from pride, obftinacy, or principle, have gone fo'
far as to lay down their lives, rather than retrafl ; but I defy hiflory
to ihcw one, who ever made his own fumrrings and death a vecijjliry
fart of his originol plan, and effentlal to hismiflton: This Chrifl '
aduallydid; \\q firejaw, foretold, declared, their necejfily, and volufj''
/fl/vV/ endured theni. If we feriouily contemplate the divine lefibns,'
the perfect precepts, the beautiful difcourfes, and the conlliient con-
duit of this wonderful perfon, we cannot avoid exciainning in a tran-*

B ijport

* Jdn vii. 46.

( lO )

fport of holy joy and grateful*^ afFedion, Surely thou art the Son of
God ; verily thou art the Friend of finners.

It anyone can doubt of the fuperior excellence of this religion a-
bovc all which preceded it, let him but perufe with attention thole
unparalleled writings in which it is tranfmittcd to the prefent times,
and compare them with the molt celebrated produdlions of the Pagan
world; and it he is not fenlible of their fuperior beauty, fimplicity,
and originality^ I will venture to pronounce, that he is as deficient
in Tade as in Faith, and that he is as bad a Critic as a Ghrillian ;
for in what fchool of ancient philofophy can he find a leifon of mo-
rality fo perfedl as CUriiVs fermon on the mount? From which of
- them can he colled an addrefs to the Deity {o concife, and yet io
comprehenlive of all th:u we want, and all that we could deprecate,
as that Ihort prayer, which he formed for, and recommended to his
difciples ? From the works of what fige of antiquity can he produce
fo pathetic a recommendation of benevolence to the diltrelft^d, and
cnh)rced by fuch alfuranccs of a reward, as in thofe words of Chrift ?
" Come, ye blelfed of my Father ! inherit the kingdom prepared for
" you from the foundation of the world : for I was an hungred, and
" ye gave me meat ; I was thirily. and ye gave me drink ; I was a Itrang-
" cr, and ye took me in ; I was naked, and ye cloathed me; I was
" Tick, and ye viilted me ; I was in prifon, and ye came unto me.
*' Then fhall the righteous aufv/cr him, faying: — Lord, when faw we
*• thee an hungred, and fed thee, or thirfty, and gave thee drink ?
" When faw we thee a llranger, and took thee in, or naked, and
" cloathed thee ? Or wheu faw we thee fick and in prifon, and came
" unto thee ? Then (hall I anfwcr and fay unto them : — Verily I fay
" unto you, inafmuch as you have done it to the leafl of thefe my
" brethren, yshave done it unto me."* Where is there fo juft, and'
fo elegant a reproof of eagernefs and anxiety in worldly purfuits, clof-
ed with fo forcible an exhortation to confidence in the goodnefs of
our Creator, as in the!"e words? — " Behold the fowls of the air;
" for they fow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet
" your heavenly Father feedeih them. Are ye not much better than
" they ? Confider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil
*' not, neither do they fpin ; and yet I fay unto you, that even So-
♦' lomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of thefe : where-
*' fore, if God fo cloths the grafs of the field, which to-day is, and
" to-morrow is caft into the oven, fhall he not much more clothe
<' you? O ye «f little faith !" + Cy which of their molt celebrated

poets
* Mti/f. XXV. 3|. + MuiL vi. 26, 2S.

( II. )

poets are the joys referved for the righteous in a future ftate, fo (*nb-
limely defcribed, as by this (hort declaration, that they are fuperior
to all defcription r " Eye hath not feen, nor ear heard, neither have
«' entered into the heart of rnan, the things which God hath pre-
" pared for them that love him." * Where amidfl the dark clouds
of pagan philofophy can he fliew us fuch a clear profpe^fl of a future
ftate, the immortality of the foul, the refurreclioa of the dead, and
the general judgment, as in St. Paul's firll epiltle to the Corinthians ?
Or from whence can he produce fuch cogent exhortations to the pracr
tice of every virtue, fuch ardent ir.citements to piety and devotion,
and fuch afliiiances to attain them, as thofe which are to be met with
throughout every page of thefe inimitable writings ? To quote all
the palfages in them relative to thefe fubje£ts, would be almoft to
tranfcribe the whole; it is fufficient to obferve, that they are eve-
ry where (lamped with fuch apparent marks of fupernatural afiillance,
as render them indifputably. fuperior to, and totally unlike all huinan
compofitions whatever ; and this luperiority and diillmilarity is ftill;
more flrongly marked by one remarkable circumftance peculiar to.
themfelves, which is, that whilft the moral parts, being of the mofl ge-
rieral ufe, are intelligible to the meaneji capacities, the learned zn6. in-!
qu-Jitive throughout all ages, perpetually find in them inexhauftiblc
difcoveries, concerning the nature, attributes, and difpenfations of
Providence.

To fay the truth, before the appearance of Chrif^ianity there cxificd
nothing like religion on the face of the earth ; the Jewifh only ex-
cepted : all other nations were immerfed in the grofTed: idolatry,
which had little or no connection with rnorality, except to corrupt
it by the infamous exaniplcs of their imaginary deities: they all
worfhipped a rnultiplicity of gods and daemons, whofc favour they
courted by impious, obfcene, and ridiculous cerernonies, and whofe
anger they endeavoured to appeafe by the mofl abominable cruelties.
For a full view of this important fubjedl, fee the excellent Dr. Le-
Und's admirable books on Revelation. In the politeft ages of
the politefl nations in the world, at a time when Greece and Roirje
had carried the arts of oratory, poetry, hiftory, architedlure and
fculpture to the highefl perfedlion, and made no inconfidcrable ad-
vances in thofe of mathematics, natural, and even moral philofophy,
in religious knowledge they had made none at all ; a flrong pre-
fumption, that the noblefl efforts of the mind of man unaflifled by
revelation were unequal to the tufk. Some few indeed of their phi-

lofophers
* I Cor. ii. 9.

( 12 )
lofophers were wife en«ugh tc rejeiSl thefe general abfurHities, and
dared to attempt a loftier llight : Plato introduced many iublime idcag.
of nature, and its tirll caufe, and of the immortality ot the
foul, which being above his own and all human difcovery, he pro-
bably acquired from the books of Mofes or the convcrfation of f<;ms
Jevvifh rabbles, which he mit^ht have met with in'^gypt, where hs
relided, and (ludied for fcveial years : From hitn Ariitotlc, and from
b )th Cicero and feme few others drew mod amazing (lores of philo-
fb^jiiical fcie'nce, and carried their refearches into divine truths as faras
hunian genius alone could penetrate. But thefe were brigint conltelhni-
ons which appeared fmgly in feveral centuries, and even thefe with all
this knowledge were very deficient in true theology. From the vifi-
ble vyorks of the Creation they traced the being and principal attri-
butes of the Creator; but the relation which his being and attri-
butes bear to man they little underffood ; of piety and devotion they
Jiad fcarce any fenfe, nor could they form any mode of worOiip wor-
thy ot the purity and perfedion of the divine nature : They occafion-
2flly flung out many elegant encomiums oq the native beauty, and
excellence of virtue : but they founded it not on the comrnands of
God, nor connecftcd it with a holy life, nor hung out the hap'pinefs
of heaven as its reward, or itsobjcff. They fometimes talked of
virtue carrying men to heaven, and placing them amongft the gods;'
but by this virtue they n^eant only the invention of arts, or f^ts of
arms: for with them heaven was open only- to Icgillators, and con-
querors, the civilizers, or deflroyers of mankind. This was then*
the fummit of religion in the moft polifhed nations in the world; and
even this was coniined to a few philofoptiers, prodigies of genius and
literature, who were Ijttle attended to, and iefs underltood by the
generality of mankind in their own couiitries ; whilft all the refl
vVere involved in one common cloud of ignorance and fupcrRition.
• At thi-s time Chriftianity broke forth from the caff like a rinng-fun,
arid dilpelled this imiverfal darknefs, which ohfcured every part of the
globe, and even at this day prevails in all thofe remoter regions, to
W-hich its falutary influence has not as yet extended. From all thofe
wiiich it has reached, it has, notvvithffanding its corruptions, banilh-
ed all thole enormiiles, and introduced a more rational devotion,
and purer morals : It has taught men the unity, and attributes of
the Supreme Being, the rcmifilon of fins, the refurreflion of the
dead, life evcrlaOing, and the kingdom of heaven ; do6frines as in-
conceivable to the wifcft of mankind antecedent to its appearance, asr
tlie Newtonian fyflem is at this day to the moll ignorant tribes of fa-

va£e«

f ^3 •)

vages in the wiids of America ; dodtrincs which human reafon never

CDuld have difctivered, but which when difcovered, coincide wiih,
and are confirmed by it; and which, though beyond the reach, of nil
the learning and penetration oi Plato,. Ariiiotle, and Cicero, are now
clearly laid open to the eye of every peafant and mechanic with the
Jjible in his hand. Thele are all plain fa£ts too glaring to be con-
tradided, and therefore, of thefe facls no man, who has eyes to
read, or ears to hear, can entertain a doubt j becaufe there arc the
buuks, and in them is this religion.

PROPOSITION III.

Y third propofition is this: that from this book called the
New Tedament, may .be collecied a. lyftem of ethics, in
winch every mora! precept loiuided on reafon is carried to a higher
degree of purity and perfedlion, than in any of the ancient philofo-
phcrs of preceding qges ; every moral precept founded on falfe prin-
ciples is entirely omitted, and many new precepts added, peculiarly
cu.refponding with the new objeil of this religion.

By moral precepts founded on reafon, I mean all thofe, which en-
force the pradlice of fuch duties as reafon informs us mufl improve
our jiatures, and conduee to the happinefs of mankind: fuch are pi-
ety to God, benevolence to men, jufticc, charity, temperance, and
fob||iety, with all thofe, which proliibit the commiflion of the con-
trary vices, ail which dcbafe our natures, and, by mutual injuries,
introduce univerfal diforder, and confequently univerfal mifery. By
precepts founded on talfe principles, I mean thofe which recommend
fictitious virtues produtlive of none of thefe falutary effe6\s, and
therefore, however celebrated and admired, are in fadt no virtues at
^11;' fuch are valour, patriotifm, and friendfliip.
. That virtues of thefirft kind are carried to a higher degree of pu-
rity and perfe£lion by the chrillian religion than by any other, it is
here unnecelFary to prove, becaufe this is a truth, which has been io
irequen ly demonftrated by her friends, and never oncedciiied by the
mod determined of her adverfaries ; but it will be proper to fliew,
that thofe ot the latter fort are moil judicioufiy omitted; becaufe they
have really no intrinfic merit in them, and are totally incompatible
with the genius and fpirlt ot this inllitution.

, Valour, for intlance, or aiTtive courage, is for the mofl part con-aitn
tional, and therefore can have no more claim to moral merit, than
wit, beatity, health, flfengih, or any oth.er endowment of the mind
•r b(5dy ; and fo i.\i is. it !r«)m proiucing any falutary effc«5ls by intro

ducing

( u )

ducing peace, order, or happincfs into fociety, that it is the ufual per-
petrator of all the violences, which from retaliated injuries diftrad
the world with bioodlhed and devaftation. It is the engine by which
the ftrong are enabled to plunder the weak, the proud to trample upon
the humble, and the guilty to opprefsthe innocent ; it is the chief in-
llrument which Ambition employs in her unjuftpurfuits of wealth and
power, and is therefore Co much extolled by her votaries : it was in-
lieed congenial with the religion of pagans, whole gods were for the
mo(^ part made out of deceafcd heroes, exalted to heaven, as a re-
ward for the mifchiefs which they had perpetrated iipon earth, and
therefore with them this was the firft of virtues, and had even en-
grolled that denomination to itfelf ; but whatever merit it may have af-
fumed among pagans, with chrillians it can pretend to none, and
few or none are the occafions in which they are permitted to exert
it : they are fo far from being allowed to inflld evil, that they arc
forbid even to refill it ; they are fo far from being encouraged to re-
venge injuries, that one of their fnft duties is to forgive them ; fo
far from being incited to deftroy their enemies, that they are com-
manded to love them, and to fervethem to the utmoft of their power.
If chriflian nations therefore were nations of chriftians, all war would
be impoifible and unknown amongft them, and valour could be nei-
ther of ufe or eflimation, and therefore could never have a place in
the catalogue of chriftian virtues, being irreconcileable with all its
precepts. I objeft not to the praife and honours beftowed on the
valiant, they are the leafl: tribute which can be paid them by thofe
who enjoy fafety and affluence by the intervention of their dangers
and fuflerings ; I affert only, that a6live courage can never be a chrif-
tian virtue, becaufe a chriflian can have nothing to do with it.
Padive courage is indeed frequently, and properly inculcated by this
meek and fufFering religion, under the titles of patience and refigna-
tion : a real and fubftantial virtue this, and a direft contrail to the
former ; for pafiive courage arifes from the noblefl difpofitions ot the
human mind, from a contempt of misfortunes, pain, and death, and
a confidence in the prote6lion of the Almighty ; aclive from the
meanen: : from paflion, vanity, and felf-depentlence: pafiive courage
js derived from a zeal for truth, and a perfeverance in duty ; a£livc
is the offspring of pride and revenge, and the parent of cruelty and
injuRice : in fhort, pafiive courage is the refolution of a philofopher,
adive is the ferocity of a favage. Nor is this more incompatible with
the precepts, than with the obje£l of this religion, which is the attain-
Kient of the kiiigdom of heaven ; for v^ilour is not that fort of vio*'

lence

lence, by which that kingdom is to be fakcn ; nor are the turbuletti
fpiiits ot heroes and conquerors admiflible into thofe regions of peace»
lubordination and tranquility.

Patriotilin alfo, that celebrated virtue fo much pra£lifed in ancient,
and i'o much protelTed in modern times, that virtue, which fo lon<J"
preferved the liberties of Greece, and exalted Rome to the empire of
the world : this celebrated virtue, I fay, muft alfo be excluded ; be-
caufe it not only falls Ihort of, but dire£lly countera£ls, the extenfive
Benevolence ot this religion. A chriftian is of no country, he is a
citizen of the world ; and his neighbours and country-men are thcs
inhabitants of the remotefl regions, whenever their dillreires demanfl
his friendly alliitance : Chrifiianity conmiands us to love all mankind^
Patriotifm to opprefs all other countries to advance the imaginary
profperity of our own : Chiiftianity enjoins us to imitate the univcr-
lal bi;nevolcnce ot our Creator, who pours forth his bleliings on eve-
ry nation upon earth ; Patriotifm to copy the mean partiality of an
Englifh parilh ofticer, who thinks injuflice and cruelty meritorious,
whenever they promote the interefts of his own inconfiderable village.
This has ever been a favourite virtue with mankind, becaufe it con-
ceals felf-intereft under the mafic of public fpirit, not only from o-
thers, but even from themfelves, and gives a licenfe to inflict wrongs
and injuries, not only with impunity, but with applaufc ; but it is fo
diametrically oppofite to the great chara6leri(Hc of this inftitution*
that it never could have been admitted into the lift of chriflian virtues,

Frienddiip likewifc, although more congenial to the principles of
Chriftianity ariling from more tender and amiable dKpolitions, could
never gain admittance amongft her benevolent precepts for the fame
rcafon; becaufe it is too narrow and confined, and appropriates that
benevolence to a fingle objeft, wh.ich i? here commanded to be ex-
tended over all : Where triendfliips arifc from Hmiiarity of fentir.ionts,
and diiinterelled afFeclions, they are advantageous, agreeable, and in-
nocent, but have little prcteniions to tncrit ; for it is juilly obicrveJ,
** If ye love them, which love you, what thanks have ye r for finners
«' alfo love thofe, that love them." * But if they arc formed from
alliances in parties, factions and interefis. or from a participation o^
vices, the ufual parents of what ara called I'^riendihips among man-
kind, they are then both mifchicvous and criminal, and confeqiiently
forbidden, but in their utmoft purity defcrvc no recommendation from
this religion.

To the judicious omiflion of thefe falfe virti:es wc may add that rc-
MiarLable lilence, which the. ChriiVian Legitlator every where preftriss

•a
* Ltiki vi. 32.

on fubje£^s efteemed l>y all o'thers of the highefl irnporfance, civil go-
vernment, national policy, and the rights oi war and peace ; of thef'e
lie has not taken the leait notice, probably for this plain reafon, be-
caijfe it would have been impoflib'.e to have formcil any explicit regu-
lations concerning them, which mud: not have been incaudftent
with the purity of his religion, or with the practical obfervance of
luch imperfed creatures- as iiiien ruhng over, and contending with
each other : For inllance, had he abfohitely forbid ail rehdance to
the reigning powers, he had conftitutcd a plan of defpotifm, and
made men ilaves ; had he allowed it, he mult have anthorifcd dif-
cbedience, and made them rebels : had he in direcl terms prohibited
all war, he muft have left his followers forever an eafy prey to every
infidel invader ; had he permitted it, he muft have liccnfed all that
japine and murder, with which it is unavoidably attended.

Let us now examine what are thofe nevv precepts in this religion
peculiarly correfponding with \he new objedl: of it, that is preparing
us for the kingdom of heaven : Of thefc the chief are pot)rnefs of
fpirit, forgiveneis of injuries, and charity to all men ; to liiefe we
may add repentance, faith> fell-abaferaent, and a detachment from
the world, all moral duties peculiar to this religion, and abfolutcly
necellary to the attainment of its end.

" Blelfed are the poor in fpirit ; for theirs is the kingdom of hea-
ven.*' * By which poornefs of fpirit is to be underftood a difpohti-
on of mind, meek, humble, fubmiilive to power, void of ambition,
patient of injuries, and free from all refentment : This was fo new,
snd fo oppofiteto the ideas of all Pagan moralifts, that they thought
this temper of mind a criminal and contemptible meannels, which
mufl: induce men to facrifice the glory of their country, and their own
honour, to a rtiameful pufillaiiimity ; and fuch it appears to almofl: alt
who are called ChriRians even at this day, who not only reje£l it in
pra61ice, but difavow it in principle, notwithdanding this ex[)licit de-
claration of their Mailer. We fee them revencrinc: the fmalleft'af-
fronts by premeditated murder, as individuals, <)n principles of ho-
nour ; and, in their national capacities, delhoying each o;her with
fire and fword, for the low conllderations of commercial interefls, the
balance of rival powers, or the ambition of princes : We fee them
with their lall breath animating each other to a favage revenge, and, in
the agonies of death, plungiug with feeble arms their d.aggers into the
hearts of their opponents : and, what is ftill worfe, we hear all thefe
barbarifms celebrated by hiftorians, flattered by poets, applauded in
theatre*, approved in I'enates, and even fandified in pulpits. But

univerfal
* Maf/. V. .3.

tJhlverfal pra<9:ice cannot alter the nature of things, nor univerfa! er-
ror change the nature of truth : Pride was not made for man, but
humility, meeknefs and refignation ; that is, poorncfs of fpirit was
made for man, and properly belongs to his dependent and precarious
fituation ; and is the only difpolition of mind which can enabla
him to enjoy eafe and quiet here, and happinefs ht^ieaftcr : Yet was
this important precept entirely unknown until it was promulgated by
him, who faid, " Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid
" them not ; for of fuch is the kingdom of heaven : Verily I lay
*' unto you, whoever fhall not receive the kingdom ot God as a little
child, he ihall not enter therein." *

Another precept, equally new and no I'ifs excellent, is forgivenefs
©f injuries : " Ye have heard," fays Chri(t to his difciples, " Thou
*• flialt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy ; but I fay unio
" you, love your enemies ; blefs them that curfe you, do good to.
•' them that hate you, and piay for them which defpiteuilly ufe you,
" and perfecute you." t This was a lefTon fo new, and fo utterly
unknown, *till taught by his do£lrines, and enforced by his example,
that the wifeit moralifts of the wifeft nations and ages reprefentcd the
defirc of revenge as a mark ot a noble mind, and the accomplifliment
of it, as one of the chief felicities attendant on a fortunate man. But
how much more magnanimous, how much more beneficial to man-
kind, is forgivenefs ! it is more magnanimous, becaufe every gene-
rous and exalted difpofition of the human mind is reqiiifite to the
practice of it : for thefe alone can enable us to bear the wrongs and
infults of wickedncfs and folly with patience, and to look down on
the perpetrators of them with pity, rather than indignation ; thefc
alone can teach us, tliat fuch are but a part of thofc fufferings allot-
ted to us in this (late o( probation, and to know, that to overcome
evil with good, is the moft glorious of all vi^ories : it is the moft
beneficial, becaufe this amiable condudl alone can put an end to aa
eternal fucceffion of injuries and retaliations; for every retaliation
becomes a new injury, and requires another a6l of revenge for fa-
tisfadlion. But w^nild we obferve this falut?ry precept, to love
our enemies, and to do good to thofe who defpitefully ufe us, this
obiVmate benevolence would at lafl conquer the moft inveterate heartsr
and we fhould have no enemies to forgive. How much more exalted
a character therefore is a ChriRian martyr, fnffering with refignati-
on, and praying for the guilty, than that of a Pagan hero, breathing
revenge, and Jeflroying the innocent 1 Yet noble, and ufeful as this
Virtue is, before the appearance of this religion it was not oniy un-
pra^tifed, but decried in principle as mean and ignominious, though,
f .1/u//. K. 14. tiU<//. V. 42. C io

f iS }

fo obvious a remedy for moft of the miferies of this life, and fo lie-*
ciliary a qualification for the happinefs of another. ,

A third precept, firft noticed, and hrft enjoined by this inftitutioh,>
is charity to all men. What this is, we may belt learn from this
admirable dcfcription, painted in the following words : " Charity
*• luffereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity vaunteth
•' not itfelf ; is not puffed up; doth not behave itfclf unfeemly ;
** doth not eagerly and contentioufly feek her own ; is not eafily pro-
*' voked ; thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth
" in truth ; bcareth all things ; believeth all things ; hopeth all-
things; endureth all things." *■ Here we have an accurate delinea-
tion of this bright confteliation of all virtues, which confifts not, as
raany imagine, in ^he building of monarftcries, endowment of hof-
pitals, or the diftribution of alms, but in fuch an amiable difpofition
of mind, as exercifes itielf every hour in ails of kindnefs, patience,-
complacency, and benevolence to all around us, and which alone is-
able to promote happinefs in the prefent life,, or render us capable
of receiving it in another : and yet this is totally new, and fo it is
declared to be by the Author of it: "A new coinmandment I give
"unto you, that ye love one another; — as I have loved you, that
*' ye love one another ; by this Ihall all men know, that ye are my
*' difciples, if ye have love one to another." f This benevolent dif-
pofition is made the great chara£teriflic of a chrillian, the teft of
his obedience, and the m.ark by which he is to be diftinguifhed.
This love for each other is that charity juft now defcribed, and con-
tains all thofc qualities which are there attributed to it ; humility,
patience, meekncfs, and beneficence : without which we muft live
in perpetual difcord, and confequently cannot pay obedience to this
commandment by loving one another ; a commandment fo fublime,^
fb rational, and fo beneficial, fo wifely ca.lculated to correal the de-
pravity, diminifli the wickednefs, and abate the miferies of humaa
nature, that, did we univerfally comply with it, we fhould foon be
relieved from all the inquietudes arifing from our own unruly paffions,
anger, envy, revenge, malice and ambition, as well as from all thofc
injuries to which we are perpetually cxpofed from the indulgence of ■
the fame paflions in others. It would alfo preferve our minds in
fuch a ftate of tranquility, and fo prepare them for the kingdom ot
heaven, that we fliould Aide out of a life of peace and love into that
celeftial fociety> by an almoft imperceptible tranfition. Yet was this,
commandment entirely new, when given by him, who fo entitles it,
and has made it the capital duty of his religion, becaufe the mofl:

indifpenfiibly
* \ Car, xiii. 4, + J^hn xiii. 34..

f 19 )

ifidirpenfably neceffary to the attainment of its great objc^, the
kingdom of heaven ; into which if proud, turbulent and vindiflive
fpirits were permitted to enter, they muft unavoidably deflroy the
happinefs of that ftate by the operations of the fane paflions and
vices, by which they difturb the prefent, and therefore all fuch mufl
be eternally excluded, not only as a punifliment, but alfo from in-
capacity.

• Repentance by this we plainly fee, is another new moral duty firc«
ruoully infifted on by this religion, and by no other, becaufe abfo-
lutely neceifary to the accomplifhment of its end ; which is to purge
and purify us from that depravity in our nature which renders us in-
capable of enjoying the heavenly happinefs. Hence alfo we may
learn, that no repentance can remove this incapacity, but luch as en-
tirely changes the nature and difpofition of the offender ; which in
the language of Scripture is called " being born again." Mere con-
trition forpalt crimes, nor even the pardon of them, cannot efFeil this,
unlefs it operates to this entire converfion or new birth, as it is pro-
perly and emphatically named : for forrow can no more purify a mind
corrupted by a long continuance in vicious habits, than it can re-
ftore health to a body diffempered by a long courfe of vice and in-
temperance. Hence alfo every one, who is in the leaft acquainted
with himfelf, may judge of the reafonablenefs of the hope that is in
him, and of his fituation in a future Itate by that of his prefent. If
he feels in himfelf a temper proud, turbulent, vindictive, and ma-
levolent, and a violent attachment to the pleafures or bufinefs of the
world, he may be alTured that he mufl: be excluded from the kingdom
of heaven ; not only becaufe his condud can merit no fuch reward,
but becaufe, if admitted, he ;would find there no objeds fatisfadory
to his pafTions, inclinations, and purfuits, and therefore could only di-
fturb the happinefs of others without enjoying any fhare of it him-
felf.

Faith is another moral duty enjoined by this inflitution, of a fpecies
fo new, that the philofophcrs of antiquity had no word exprefliveof
this idea, nor any fuch idea to be exprefled ; for the word pift!s or
fdes, which we tranflate faith, was never ufed by any Pagan writer in
afenfethe leaft fimilar to that to which it is applied in the New
Teflament : where in general it fignifies an humble, teachable, and
candid difpofition, a truft in God, and confidence in his promifes :
when applied particularly to chriftianity, it means no more than a
belief of this fingle propofition, that Chrift was the Son of God; that
is, in the language ol thofe writings, the Mefliali, who was foretold

by

( 20 )

hy the prophets, and expelled by the Jews ; who was fcnt by God
into the world to preach righteoufnefs, judgment, and everlafting
life, and to die as an atonement for the (Ins of mankind. This was
all that Chrid required to be believed by thofe who were willing to
become hisdifciples : he, who does not believe this, is not a Chrifti^
an, and he who does, believes the whole that is elTeniial to his pro-
feffion, and all that is properly comprehended under the name of faith,
This unfortunate vvord has indeed been (o tortured and fo mifapplied,
to mean every abfurdity, which artifice could impofe upon ignorance,
that it has loft all prelenlions to the title of virtue ; but if brought
back to the fimplicity of its original fignification, it well deferves that
name, becaufe it ufually arifes from the moft amiable difpofitions,
and is always a dire£l contraft to pride, obftinacy, and felf-conceit.
If taken in the ext^nfive fcnfe of an aflfent to the evidence of things
cot feen, it comprehends the belief of the exiftence of a God, and a
luture ftate, and the abfolute neceffity of divine, and focial af-
fe6lioas, and is therefore not only itfelf a moral virtue, but the
lource from whence all others muft proceed ; for on the belief of
thefe all religion and morality muft entirely depend. It cannot be al-
together void of moral merit (as fome would reprefent it) becaufe it
is in a degree voluntary ; for daily experience fhews us, that men not
only pretend to, but actually do believe, and difbelieve almofi: any
propolitions, which befl fuit their interefls, or inclinations, and un-
feignedly change their fmcere opinions with their fituations and cir-
cirmlhinces. For we have power over the mind's eye, as well as
Cv^r the body's, to fhut it againfl the ftrongefi: rays of truth and re-
ligion, whenever they become painful to us, and to open it again to
the faint glimmerings of fcepticifm and infidelity when we "love
darknefs rather than light, becaufe our deeds are evil."* And this,
J think, lufhciently refutes all objections to the moral nature of faith,
drawn from the fuppohtion of its being quite involuntary, and necef-
larily dependent on the degree of evidence, which is offered to our un-
der (Ian d'^ngs.

Sclf-abafement is another moral duty inculcated by this religion
only ; which requires us to impute even our own virtues to the grace
and favour of our Creator, and to acknowledge, that we can do no-
thing good by our own powers, unMs allifted by his over-ruling in-
fluence: This dodrine fecms at firft fight to infringe on our free-
will, and to deprive us of all merit ; but, on a clofer examination,,
jhe truth of it may be demonftrated both by reafon and experience*

fjohn iii. 19.

.and that in faiSt it does not impair the one, ©r depreciate the other :
^nd that it is productive of fo much humility, refignation and depend-
ance on God, that it jullly claims a place amont;(l the molT: illuftri-
ous moral virtues. Yet was ttiis duty utterly repugnant to tiie proud
and felf-fufficient principles of the ancient philofophers, as well as mo-
flern Deifts, and therefore before the publication of the gofpcl total-
ly unknown and uncomprehended.

Detachment from the world is another moral virtue conllituted by
this religion alone : i'o new, that even at this day few ot its profeffors
can be perfuaded that it is required, or that it is any virtue at all.
By this detachment from the world is not to be undtrHood a feclufion
irom focijety, abflradion from all buhnefs, or retirement to a gloomy
cloyller. Induilry and labour, chearfulnefs and hofpitality, arc fre-
quently recommended : nor is the acquifition of wealth and honours
pruhibited, if they can be obtained by honelt means, and a moderate
degree of attention and care : but fuch an unremitted anxiety and
perpetual application as epgroffes our whole time and thoughts, arc
forbid, "becaufe they are incompatible with the fpirit of this religion,
and muft utterly difqualify us for the attainment of its great end. We
toil on in the vain purfuits and frivolous occupations of the world,
die in our harnefs, and then expeft, if no gigantic crime ftands in
the way, to ftep immediately into the kingdom of heaven : but this is
impoilible ; for without a previous detachment from the buhnefs ot
this world, we cannot be prepared for the happinefs of another. Yet
this could make rio part of the morality of Pagans, becaufe their vir-
tues were altogether conne£l6d with this bufinefs, and confifted chiefly
in conducting it with honour to themfelves, and benefit to the public :
But Chrilfianity has a nobler objeil in view, which if not' attended to,
niuft be lofl for ever. This object is that celeftial manfion of which
wc fhould never lofe fight, and to which we fliould be ever advancing
durin" our journey thro' life : but this by no means precludes us from
performing tlie bufinefs, or enjoying the amufements of travellers,
provided they detain us not too long, nor lead us too far out of
pur way.

It cannot be denied, that the great Autiior of the chriftian inflitii-
tion, firft and fingly ventured to oppofe all the chief principles of
Pagan virtue, and to introduce a religion dire£tly oppofite to thofe er-
roneous, though long-efiablifhed, opinions, both in its duties and in its
objea:. The moft celebrated virtues of the ancients were liigh fpint,
intrepid courage, and implacable refentmcnt.

Impigers

f fi« )

Imp'tger, 'iracundus, inexorahilis, acer,
was the portrait of the moll illurtrious Hero, drawn by one of tlia,
firll poets of antiquity: To all thefe admired qualities, thofeofatrua
Chriftian are an exa£l contrail; for this religion conftantly enjoins
poorncfs of fpirit, meeknefs, patience, and forgivenefs of injuries,
" But I fay unto you, that yp refill not evil ; but whoever Iball
fmite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other alfo." * Th«
favourite charadlers among the Pagans were the turbulent, am-
bitious, and intrepid, who through toils and dangers acquir-
ed wealth, and fpent it in luxury, rpagnificence, and corruption; but
both thefe are equally adverfe to the Chriftian iyftem, which forbids
all criminal extraordinary efforts to obtain wealth, care to fecure, or
thought concerning the enjoyment of it. ^' Lay not up for yourfelves
treafures on earth, &c." " Take no thought, faying, what fhall we
tat, or what fhall we drink, or wherewithal fhall we be clothed ?
lor after all thefe things do the Gentiles feek/'t The chief objeil of
the Pagans was immortal fame : for this their poets fang, their he-
rocs fought, and their patriots died ; and this was hung out by their
philofophers and legiflators, as the great incitement to all noble and
virtuous deeds. But what fays the Chriftian Legiflator to his difci-
ples on this lubjecl ? •' BlefTed are ye, when men fhall revile you, and
Jhall fay all manner of evil againft you falfely for my fake ; rejoice,-
and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven. ":|: So
^videly different is the genius of the Pagan and Chriflian morality,
that I will venture to afBrm, that the mot^ celebrated virtues of thcf
i'jrmer are more oppofite to the fpirit, and more inconfiflent with the
end of the latter, than even their moft infamous vices ; and that
a Brutus wrenching vengeance out of his hands to whom alone it
bejongs, by murdering the oppreiTor of his country, or a Cato mur-»
tiering himfelf from an impatience of controul, leaves the world more
ijnqualified for, and more inadmiflible into the kingdom of heaven,
than even a M?fralina, or an Heliogabalus, with all their profliga-r
cy about them.

Nothing, I believe, has fo much contributed to corrupt the true
fpirit of the Chriflian inflitution, as that partiality which we con-
trail from our earlied education for the manners of Pagan antiquity ;
whence we learn to adopt every moral idea, which is repugnant to it ;
to applaud falfe virtues, which that difavows ; to be guided by law*,
ff honour, which that abhors; to imitate charaders, which that

detefls i

*Matf, r, 39. iMait. vi. 31, ^MatL v. ii.

( *3 )

^cfcfts ; and to behold heroes, conquerors, and fuicides with admit*-'
tion, whole conducl that utterly condemns. From a coaution of
thefe oppolite principles was generated that monftrous fyltcni of cru-
elty and benevolence, of barbarifm and civility, of rapine and jutticc,
of fighting and devotion, of revenge and generofity, which haralfed
the world for feveral centuries with crufades, holy wars, knight-er-
rantry, and fingle combats, and even ftill retains influence enough
under the name of honour to defeat the moft benificent ends of this
holy inititution; but thofe who have imbibed fuch fentiments, and acl
on fuch principles, have no claim to the amiable and divine charadier
ofChridians. A man, vvhofe ruling principle is -honour, howe\?er vir-'
tuous he may be, cannot be a Chriltian, becaufe he eredls a ftarrdarJ
of duty, and deliberately adheres to it, diametrically oppofite to the
whole tenour of that religion.

The contraft between the Chriftian, and all other inftitutions, reli-
gious or moral, previous to its appearance, is fufficiently evident, and
furely the fuperiority of the former is as little to be difputcd; unlefs
any one fliall undertake to prove, that humility, patience, forgivenefs,
and benevolence are Icfs amiable, and lefs beneficial qualities, than
pride, turbulence, revenge and malignity : that the contempt of rich-
es is lefs noble, than the acquifition by fraud and villany, or the dif-
tribution of them to the paor, lels commendable than avarice or pro-
fufion ; or that a real immortality in the kingdom of heaven is an ob-
jed lefs exalted, lefs rational, and lefs worthy of purfuit, than an i-
maginary immortality in the applaufe of men : that worthlefs tribute,
which the folly of one part of mankind pays to the wickednefs of the
other; a tribute, which a wife man ought always todefpife, becaufe a.
good man can fcarce ever obtain.

CONCLUSION.

IF I miiiake not, I have now fully eftablifhed the truth of my three
propofitions.
Firif, That there is now extant a book entitled the New-Tefta-
ment.

Secondly, That from this book may be extra£led a fyftem of reli-
gion entirely new ; both in its object, and its doflrines, not only fu-
perior to, but totally unlike every thing which had ever before en-
tered into the mind of man.

Thirdly, That from this book may likewife be colleaed a fyRera
ttf ethics, in which every moral precept founded on rcafon is carried

t«

( u )

Xo a higher degree of purity and perfedion, than in any other of th*
wilcit philofophcrs ot preceding ages ; every moral precept founded
on talk principles totally omitted, and many new precepts added, pe-
culiarly correlponding with the new objedl of this religion.

Every one of ihefe propofitions, I am perfuaded, is incontrovertl-
bly true ; and if true, this Ihort, but certain conclufion muil inevita-
bly follow : That fuch a fytfem of religion and morality could not
pollibly have baen the work of any man, or fet of men, much lefs
of thole obfcure, ignorant and illiterate perfons who a6\ually did difco-
vcr, and publilh it to the world ; and that therefore it muft have been
effeded by the fupernatural interpofition of divine power and wifdom ;
that is, that it mult derive its origin from God.

This argument feems to me little Jhort of demondratlon, and is
indeed founded on the very fame reafoning by which the material
. world is proved to be the work of his invifible hand. We view with
admiration the heav'ens and the earth, and all therein contained ; we
contemplate with amazement the minute bodies of animals too fmall
for perception, and the immenfe planetary orbs too vail for immagi-
nati'on : We are certain that thefe cannot be the works of man ; and
therefore we conclude with rcafun, that they muft be the produdionj
cf an omnipotent Creator. In the fame manner we fee here a fcheme
of religion and morality unlike and fuperior to all ideas of the humart
mind, equally impoffible to have been difcovered by the knowledge,
as invented by the artifice of man ; and therefore by the very fame
mode of reaibning, and with the iame juftrce, we conclude, that it
muft derive its origin from the fame oir.nipotent and omnifcient Being,
Nor was the propagation of this religion lefs extraordinary than the
religion itfelt, or lefs above the reach of all human power, than the
dlfcovery of it was above that of all human underflanding. It is
well known, that in the coune of a very few years it was fpread over
all the principal parts ot Afia and Europe, and this by the miniliry on-
ly of an inconfiderable number ot the moft inconfiderable perfons ;
that at this time Paganifmwas in the higheft repute, believed univer-
fally by the vulgar, and patronifed by the great ; that the wifeft mea
»f the wjfeft nations alliflcd at its lacrfiices, and confultcd its
oracles on the moft important occafions : Whether thefe were the
tricks of the prieffs or ot the devil, is of no confequence, as they were
both equally unlikely to be converted, or overcome ; the fad is cer-
tain, that on the preaching of a few filhermen, their altars were de-
ferted, and their deities were dumb. This miracle they undoubted-
ly performed, whatever wc may think of the reft : and this is furel/

fufficient

r 25 )

fufficient t© prove the authority of their commifTion ; and to convince
us, that neither their undertaking nor the execution ot it could pof-
fibly bt their own.

How much this divine inftitution has been corrupted, or how* foon
thclc corruptions began, how far it has been difcoloured by the falfe
notions of illiterate ages, or blended with fidions by pious frauds, or
how early thefe notions and fidlions were introduced, no learning or
fagacity is now able precifely to afcertain ; but furely no rr.an, who
ferioufly confiders the excellence and novelty of its doftrines, the
nnanner in which it was at firft propagated through the world, the per-
fons who achieved that wonderful work*, and the originality of thofs
writings in which it is (ii!l recorded, can pollibly believe that it could
ever have been the production of impofiurc, or chance ; or that froin
an impofture the inofl wicked and blafphemous, (for if an impofture,
fuch it is,) all the religion and virtue now exifting on earth can de- *
rive their fourcc.

But notwithfianding what has been here urged, if any man cam
believe, that at a tiine when the literature of Greece and Rouie, then
in their meridian luffre, were infufficicnt for the taflt, the fon of a
carpenter, together with twelve of the meaneft and moll: illiterate
mechanics, hisallbciates, unaililted by any fupernatural power, fhould
be able to difcover or invent a fyl^icm of theology the molt fublime
and of ethics themoft perfect, which liad efcapeJ the penetration and
learning of Plato, Ariftotle, and Cicero ; and that from this fyftem,
by their own fagacity, they had excluded every falfe virtue, rhougli
univerfally admired, and admitted every true virtue, though defpiled
and ridiculed by all the relt of the world : If any one can believe
that thefe men could become impoAors, for no other purpofe than
the propagation of truth, villains for no end but to teach honefty, and
martyrs without the leaft profpe£l of honour or advantage ; or that
if all this fhould have been polTible, thefe fiw inconhderable perfons
Ihould have been able, in the courfc of a few years, to have fprcad
this their religion over moft parts of the then known world, in
oppofuion to the interefts, p'e'afures, ambition, prejudices, and even
reaion of mankind i to have triumphed over the power of pruices,
the intrigues of ftates, the force of cuftom, the blindnefs of zeal,
the influence of priefis, the arguments of orators, and the philofoph/
of the world, without any fupernatural afliftance ; if any one can be-
lieve all thefe miraculous events, contradictory to the conftant expe-
rience of the power* and difpofuions of hiHnan nature, he muft bs

J^ polls Jlsd

poffefled of much more faith than is neceflary to make him a Chriftl-
an, and remain an unbeliever from mere credulity.

But fhould thefe credulous infidels alter all be in the right, and
tliis pretended revelation be all a fable ; from believing it, what harm
could enfue ? Would it render princes more tyrannical, or fubjecEts
more ungovernable ? the rich more infolent, or the poor more difor-
derly ? Would it make vvorfe parents or children, hufuands or wives^
matters or fervants, friends or neighbours r Or would it not make
men more virtuous, and confequently more happy in every fituation ?
It could not be criminal ; it could not be detrimental. It could not
be criminal, becaufe it cannot be a crime to aflTent to fuch evidence,
as has been able to convince the befl: and wifeft of mankind ; by
which, if falfe, Providence mufl have permitted men to deceive each-
other, for the moft beneficial ends, and which therefore it would be
furely more meritorious to believe, from a difpofition of faith and cha^-
lity, which believeth all things, than to rejeiS with fcorn from obtti-
nacy and Iclf-conceit : It cannot be detrimental, becaufe if chriftianity is-
a fable, it is a fable, the belief of which is the only principle which
can retain men in a fleady and uniform courfe of virtue, piety, and
devotion, or can fupport them in the hour of didrcfs, <jf ficknefs, and
of deatii. Whatever might be the operations oi true deifm on ihc
minds of pagan philofophers, that can now avail us nothing: for that-
light which once lightened the Gentiles, it now abforbed in the bright-
er illumination of the gofpel ; we can now form no rational fyllem
of deifm, but what mufl be borrowed from that fource, and, as far as
it reaches towards perfection, mufl: be exactly the fame ; and there-
fore if we will not accept of Chridianitv, we can have no religion at
all. Accordingly we fee, that thofe who fly from this, fcarce ever
fiop at deifm ; but haflcn on with great alacrity to a total reje6lion oi
all religious and moral principles whatever.

If I have here demonffrated the divine origin of the chriftian reli-
gion by an argument which cannot be confuted ; no others, however
plaufible or numerous, founded on probabilities, doubts, and coh-
je£lure£, can ever difprove it, becanfe if it is once fliewn to be true,
it cannot be falfe. But as many arguments of this kind hav^e bewil-
dered fome caiidid and ingenuous mi«ds, I fhall here beffow a few
lines on thofe which have the moft weight, in order to wipe out, or
at leaft to diminifh their perplexmg influence.

But here I mult previoufly obferve, that the moft unfurmountable^
as well as the moft ufual obftacle to our belief, arifes from our pafTi-
«tts, appetites and interefts j for faith being an ad of the will as.

mucli

f ^7 ) . .
much as ot the undernanding, we oftener difbelieve for want of in-
clination, than want of evidence. The firft ftep towards thinking
<this revelation true, is our hopes that it is fo ^ for whenever we much
with any propofition to he true,, we arc not far from believing it. It
is certainly for the intereftof all good men, that its authority fliould
be well founded ; and ff ill more betieHcial to the had, if ever they in-
tend to be better : becaufe it is the only fyffem either of reafon or re-
ligion which can give them any allurance of pardon. The punilh-
ment of vice is a debt due to juitlce, which cannot be remitted with-
out compenfation : repentance can be no compenfation ; it may
change a wicked man's difpofitions, and prevent his offending for the
future, but can lay no claim to pardon for 'wliat is paft. If any one
by profligacy and extravagance contra£ls a debt, repentance may make
him wifer, and hinder him from running mto fuither diftrefles, but
can never pay off his old bonds ; for which he muff be ever accounta-
ble, unlefs they are difchargedby hirafelf, or fome other in his flead :
this very difcharge ChriLlianity alone holds forth on our repentance,
and, if true, will certainly perform: the truth of it therefore mull ar-
dently be wiflied for by all, except the wicked, v/ho are determined
neither to repent or reform. It is well worth every man's yvhile, who
either is, or intends to be virtuous, to believe Chriffianity, if he can ;
becaule he will hnd it the fureli prefervative againd all vicious habits-
^nd their attendant evils, the bell: refource under diftrelfes anddifap-
pointments, ill health and ill fortune, and the firmed bafis on which
contemplation can reft ; and without fome, the human mind is never
perfectly at cafe. But if any one is attached to a favourite pleafure,
or eagerly engaged in worldly purfuifs incompatible with the precepts
of this religion, and he believes it, he mud either relinquini thofepur-
fuits with unealinefs, or perfid in them with remorfe and diiTatisfafli-
on, and therefore mud commence unbeliever in his own defence.
With fuch I fhall not difpute, nor pretend to perfuade men by argu-
ments to make themfclves.miferable : but to thofe, who, not afraid
that this religion may be true, are really affeded by fuch objedions,
I will offer the following anfwers, which, though fliort, will, I doubt
not, be fiithcient to fhew them their weaknefs and futility.

In the fird place then, fome have been fo bold as to drike at thc>
. root of all revelation from God, by afferting, that it is incredible, be-
caufe unneceffary, and unnecellary, becaufe the reafon which he has
beftowed on mankind is fufficiently able to difcover all the religious
and moral duties which he requires of them, if they would but atten4
le her precepts, and bs guided by her friendly adiriOniiions.

jVlanlaaA

f 28 )
Mankind have undoubtedly at various times from the remntcft ages
received fo much knowledge by divine communications, and have
ever been fo much inclined to impute it all to their own hifiiciency
that it is now difficult to determine what human reafon unallifted caa
etfctl : But to torm a true judgment on this lubjcdt, let us turn our
eyes to thofe remote regions of the globe, to which this fupernatural
affiltance has never yet extended, and we (hall there fee men endued
with lenfe and realon not inferior to our own, fo far from being ca-
pable of forming fyltems of religion and morality, that they are at
this day totally unable to make a nail or a hatchet : from whence ws
may furely be convinced, that reafon alone is fo lar from being fufEci-
cnt to offer to mankind a perfeft religion, that it has never yet been
able to lead them to any degree of culture, or civilization whatever.
Thefe have uniformly flowed from that great fountain of divine com-
munication opened in the eart, in the earlieft ages, and thence been
gradually difFufed in falubrious (Ircams, throughout the various regi-
ons of the earth. Their rife and progrefs, by furveying the hiflory of
the world, may eafily be traced backwards to their fource ; and where,
ever thefe have not as yet been able to penetrate, we there find the
human fpeciesnot only void of all true religious and moral fentiments,
but not the lead emerged from their original ignorance and barbarity;
which feems a demonftration, that although human reafoi\ is capable of
progrelFion in fcience,yet thefiril; toundations mufl be laid by fuperna-
tural inftrudlions: for furely no other probable caufe can be alligned why
onepart of mankind fhould have made fuchan amazing progrefs in reli-
gious, moral, metaphyfical, and philofophical enquiries ;fuch wonderful
improvements in policy, legiflation, commerce, and manufactures', while
the other part, formed with the fame natural capacities divided only by feas
and mountains, (hould remain, during the fame number of ages, in a (late
little fupcrior to brutes, without government, without laws or letters,
and even without cloaths and habitations ; murdering each other to
iatiate their revenge, and devouring each other to appeafe their hun-
ger : I fay no caufe can be afligned for this amazing difference, ex-
cept that the hrit have received information from thofe divine com-
munications recorded in the fcriptures, and the latter have never yet
been favoured with fuch. allKtance. This remarkable cpntraft feems
an unanfwerable, though perhaps a new proof of the neceffity of re-
velation, and a folid refutation of all arguments againll it, drawn front
the fufficiency of human reafon. And as reafon in her natural ftate
is thus incapable of making any progrefs in knowledge ; fo when fur-
lufned with materials by fuperiiaiural aid, ii left to the guidance at

her

her own wild imaginations, (he falls into more numerous, and more
grols errors, than her own native ignorance could ever have fuggcfted.
1'here is then no abfnrdity fo extravagant, which flie is not ready to
adopt : ihe has perluaded fome, that there is no God ; others, that
there can be no future ftate ; ihe has taught fome, that there is no
ditFerence between vice and virtue, and that to cut a man's throat and
to relieve his necefTities are acfiions equally tneritorious : fhe has con-
vinced many, that they have no free-will in oppofition to their own
experience ; fome, that there can be no fnch thing as foul, or fpirlt,
contrarv to their own perceptions ; and others, no inch thing as mat-
ter or body, in contradiction to their fcnfcs. By analyzing all things
ihe can Ihew, that there is nothing in any thing ; by perpetual fifting
ihe can reduce aJl exiltence to the invifible dult of fcepticifm ; and
by recurring to firit principles, prove to the fatisfa£lion of her follow-
ers, that there are no principles at all. How far fuch a guide is to
be depended on in the important concerns of religion, and morals, I
leave to the judgment of every confiderate man to determine. This
is certain, that human reafon in its higheft (fate of cultivation araongft
the philofophers of Greece and Rome, was never able to form a reli-
gion comparable to Chriftianity ; norj have all thole fources of moral
virtue. Inch as truth, beauty, and the fitnefs of things, which modern
philofophers have endeavoured to fubftitute in its ftead, ever been ef-
fectual to produce good men, and have themfelves often been the pro-
ductions of Ibme of the word.

To lome fpeculative and refined obfervers, it has appeared incre-
dible, that a wife and benevolent Creator fhould have conftituted a
world upon one plan, and a religion for it on another ; that is, that
he Ihould have revealed a religion to mankind, which not only con-
tradids the principal paflions and inclinations which he has implant-
ed in their natures, but is incompatible vvi^h the whole oeconomy of
that world which he has created, and in which he has thought pro-
per to place them. This, fay they, with regard to the Chriflian, is
apparently the cafe: the love of povyer, riches, honour and fame, are
the great incitements to generous and magnanimous actions ; yet by
this'inltitution are all thefe depreciated and difcouraged. Govern-
ment is effcntial to the nature of man, and cannot be managed with-
out certain degrees of violence, corruption, and impofition : yet are all
thefe ftriaiy forbid. Nations cannot lubfift without wars, nor war be
carried on without rapine, defolation, and murder ; yet are thefe pro-
hibited under the fcveretl threats. The nonrefinance of evil muft fub-
jed individuals to ccntinaal opprefTwns, and leave nations a defencelefe

prey

f 3« )
•rev to their enemies ; yet ;s this recommended. Perpetual patience

under iiiluhs aud injuries muft every day provoke new in-
("iilts and new injuries ; yet is this enjoined. A negledl of all we
eat and drink, and wear, muft put an end to all commerce, manufac-
tures, and induftry ; yet is this required. In fhort, were thefe pre-
cepts univerfally obeyed, the dirpofition of all human affairs muit be
(entirely changed, and the bufinefs ot the world, coni'lituted as it no\f
is, could not go on. To all this I anfwer, that fuch indeed is the
chriilian revelation, and fuch it is condantly declared tobe.byliira
who gave it, as well as by thofc, who publilhed it under his imme-
diate diredion : To thefe he fays, " It ye were of the world, the world
would love his own, butbecaufeye are not of the world, but I have
chofen you out of the world, therefore the world hateih you." •
To the Jews he declares, " Ye are of this world ; I am not of this
world, t St. Paul writes to the Romans, *• Be not conformed To
this world ;":]: and to the Corinthians, *• We fpeak not the wifdoni
of this world." § St, James fays, " Know ye not, that the friendlliip
of the world is enmity with God r whofocver therefore will be a
iriend of the world is the enemy of God." j| This irreconcileabl*
<iifagreement between chriflianity and the world is announced in num-
berlefs other places in the New Teftament, and indeed by the whole
tenour of thofe writings. Thefe are plain declarations, which in fpite
ot all the evafions ot thofe good managers, who choofe to take this
world with them in their way to heaven, (land fixed and immoveable
againft all their arguments drawn from public benefit and pretended
necellity, and muft ever forbid any reconciliation between the purfuits
of this world and the chriffian inllitution : But they who rejeCl it on
this account, enter not into the fublime fpirit of this religion, which
is not a code of precife laws defigned for the well ordering fociely,
adapted to the ends of worldly convenience, and amenable to the tri-
bunal of human prudence ; but a divine leflbn of purity and perfection
|i) far fuperior to the low confiderations of conquefl, government, and
commerce, that it takes no more notice of them than of the battles of
game-cocks, the policy of bees, or the induftry of ants: they rccollecl
fiot what is the firrt and principal objedofthis inflitution ; that this
is not, as has been often repeated, to make us happy, or even vir-
tuous in the prefent life for the fake of augmenting our happinefs heret
but to conduit us through a ftate of dangers and fufferings, of hr^
j,nd temptation, in fuch a manner as to qualify us for the enjovment of

happinefs

* John XV. ig. ^ John vjii. 23.

i Rm. xil. a. ^ Cor. ii. 6, |j Jam. iv. 4*

C . 3^ . )

fiappinefs hereafter. All other initltutlons of religion and morals were

made {or the world, but the chara£lerillic of this is to be againit it ;
and therefore the merits of chrifiian dodlrinesare not tobeweii/hed in
the fcales of public utility, like thofe of moral precepts, becaiife
worldly utility is not their end. If Chrift and his apollles haJ pretended
that the religion which they preached would advance the power,
wealth, and profperity of nations, or of men, they would have dcferT-
ed but little credit ^ but they conftantly profefs the contrary, and
every where declare, that their religion is adverfe to the world, and
all itspurfuits. It can therefore be no imputation on this religion, or
on any of its precepts, that they tend not to an end which their au-
thor profelfedly difclaims: nor can it furely be deemed a defed, that
it is adverfe to the vain purfuits of this world ; for fo are reafon,
wifdom, and experience ^ they ail teach us the fame lelFon, they all de.
monftrate tons everyday, that thefe are begun on falfe hopes, carricc!
on with dilquietude, and end in difappointment. This profeffed in-
compatibility with the little, wretched, and iniquitous buflncfs of
the world, is therefore fo far from beingadefecl in this religion, that,
was there no other proof of its divine origin, this alone, I think, would
be abundantly futTicient. The great plan and benevolent delign of
this difpenfation is plainly this ; to enlighten the minds, purifv the
religion, and amend the morals of mankind in general, and to felcdt
the molt meritorious of them to be fucceilively tranfplanted into the
kingdom of heaven : Which gracious offer is impartially tendered to
all, wlio by perfeverance in meeknefs, patience, piety, charity, and
a detatchment from the world, are willing to qualify themfelves for
this holy and happy fociety. ■ Was this univerfally accepted, and did
every man obferve rtri611y every precept of thegofpcl, the face of hu-
man affairs, and the oeconomy of the world, would indeed be great-
ly changed : but furely they would be changed for ihe better; and
we fliould enjoy much more happinefs, even here, than at prefent :
For we mult not forget that evils are by it forbid as well as rciillancc^
injuries, as vrell as revenge ; all unwillingnefs to difFufe the enjoy-
ments of life, as well as folicitude to acquire them ; all obllacles to
ambition, as well as ambition Itfelf ; and therefore all contentions for
power and intereft would be at an end ; and the world would go on
much more happily than it now does. But this univerjrj acceptance oi
fuch an offer was never expelled from fo depraved and imperfeil a crea-
ture as man, and therefore could never have been any part of the de-
fign : For it was foreknown and foretold by him who made it, that
few, very tevr would accept it «n thefe terms. He fays " Straight is the

gate.

f 3^ )
gate, and narrow is the "way which leadeth into life, and few there

be that find it :" * Accordingly we fee, that very few are prevailed
on by the hopes of future happinefs, to relinquilh the purfiiits of prefent
pleafures or interefts, and therefore thefe purfuits are little interrupted
by the feccflion of fo inconfiderable a number: As the natural world
fubfifts by the (Iruggles of the fame elements, fo does the moral by the
contentions of the lame pafTions, as from the beginning : The gene-
rality of mankind are adluated by the fame motives, fight, fcuffie, and
fcramble for power7 riches and pleafures, with the fame eagernefs:
all occupations and profeffions are exercifed with the fame alacrity,
and there are foldiers, lawyers, ftatefmen, patriots, and politicians, iuft
as if Chriftianity had never exifted. Thus, we fee this wonderful
difpenfation has anfwered all the purpofes for which it was intended :
It has enlightened the minds, purified the religion, and amended the
morals of mankind ; and, without fubverting the conftitution, policy
or bufinefs of the world, opened a gate, though a ftraight one, through
which all, who are wife enough to choofe it, and good enough to be
fit for it, may find an entrance into the kingdom of heaven.

Others have faid, that if this revelation had really been from God,
his infinite power and goodnefs could never have fuiFcrcd it to have
been fofoon perverted from its original purity, to have continued in a
{late of corruption through the courfe of fo many ages, and at lafl" to
have proved fo inefFe6lual to the reformation of mankind. To thefe
I anfwer, that all this, on examination, will be found inevitable, from
the nature of all revelations communicated to fo imperfedl a creature
as man, and from circumftances peculiar to the rife and progrefs of the
Chriflian in particular : for when this was firft preached to the Gentile
nations, though they were not able to withftand the force of its evi-
dence, and therefore received it ; yet they could not be prevailed on ta
relinquifh their old fuperftitions, and former opinions, but chofe rather
to incorporate them with it : By which means it was necelfarily mix-
ed with their ignorance, and their learning ; by both which it was
equally injured. The people defaced its worfhip by blending it with
their idolatrous ceremonies, and the philofophers corrupted its doc-
trines by weaving them up with the notions of the Gnoftics, Myflics»
and Manicha^ans, the prevailing fyftems of thofe times. By degrees
its irrefiiVible excellence gained over princes, potentates, and conquer-
«rs to its intercfls, and it was fupported by their patronage : but that
patronage foon engaged it in their policies and contefts, and deftroyed
that excellence by which it had been acquired. At length the meek
and humble profefTors of the gofpel enslaved thefe princes, and conqner-
* jW«//. vii. 4» • cd

C 33 )

©d thcfe conquerers, their patrons, and circled for tlicmfelves fueh a
ftupendoiis fabric of wealth and power, astlie world had never feen :
they then propagated their religion by the fame methods by whicli it
liad been perfecuted ; nations were converted by fire and fvvord, and
the vanquiflied were baptifed with daggers at their th.roats. All
thefe events we fee proceed from a chain of caufes and coniequenccf,
which couK! not have been broken without changing the eftabliflied
courfe of things by a conftant fe.ries of miracles, era total alteration
of hnman nature: whiift that continues as it is, the pureft religion
muft be corrupted by a conjun£tion with power and riches. How far
this iuftitutionhas been eiredtual to the reformation of mankind, it is
not eafy now to afcertain, becaufe the enormities which prevailed be»
fore the appearance of it are by time [o far removed from our fight,
that they are fcarcely vifible ; but thofe of the moft gigantic fizc flill
yemain in the records of hiftory, as monum.ents of the reft : Wars iri
thoie ages were carried on with a ferocity and cruelty unknown to
the prefent : whole cities and nations were extirpated by fire and
fwor^l ; and thoufands of the vanquifhed were crucified tmd impaled
for having endeavoured only to defend themfclves and their country.
The lives of new-born infants were then entirely at the difpofal of
their parents, who were at liberty to bring them up, or to expofe
them to perifii by cold and hunger, or to be devoured by birds and
hearts ; and this v/as frequently pradlifed without punifhment, and e-
ven without cenfure. Gladiators were employed by hundreds to cut
one another to pieces, in public t^heatres, for the diverfion of the moft
polite alferablies ; and though thefe combatants at firfl: confifted of
criminals only, by degrees men of the higheft rank, and even ladies
of the mod: illuftrious families, enroled themfclves in this honourable
lift. On masiy occafions human lacrifices were ordained ; and at the
funerals of rich and eminent perfons, great numbers of their flaves
were murdered as viftims plcafing to their departed fpirits. The
moll infamous obfcenities were made part of their religious worfliip,
and the mod unnatural luds publicly avowed, and celebrated by thci»
mod admired poets. At the approach of Chriflianity, all thefe horrid
abominations vani filed ; and amongit thofe who firft embraced it,
farce a fingle vice was to be found ; to fuch an amazing degree of pi-
ety, charity, temperance, patience, and refignation, were the primi-
tive converts exalted, that they leem literally to have been regenerated,
and purified from all the imperfedions of iiuman nature ; and to have
purfucd fuch a condant and uniform courfe of devotion, innocence,
^nd virtue, as, in the prcfcnt times, it is almoli as dif^icuIt for us to

E con-

f 3^^ ) . ^

•onceh'c as to imitate. If it is afked, why Ihoiikl not the belief of the
fame religion now produce the fame effects ? the aniwer is (hort, be-
caiile it is not believed : The moll fovereign medicine can perform no
cure, if the patient will not be perfuaded to take it. Yet notwith-
ftanding all impediments, it has certainly done a great deal towards di-
minilbing the vices and correiting the difpofiiions of mankind ;
and was it nniverfal'.y adopted in belief and practice, would totally
eradicate both fm and punilhment.

Objections have llkewiie been raifcd to the divine authority of this
religion Irom the incredibility of fonrie of its do£lrines, particularly of
thofe concerning the Trinity, and atonement for iui by thefufferings
and death of Chrift ; the one contradicting all the principles of hu-
man reafon, and the other all our ideas of divine juflice. To thefe
obje£lions I fhall only fay, that no arguments founded on principles,
which we cannot comprehend, can poliibly difprove a propofition al-
ready proved on principles which we do underhand ; and therefore
that on this fubjedl they ought not to be attended to : That three Be-
ings fliQuld be one Being, is a propofition which certainly contradicts
reafon, that is, our reafon ; but it does not thence follow, that it
cannot be true ; for there are many propofitions which contradi£l
our reafon, and yet are demc\nftrably true : one is the very firft prin-
ciple of all religion, the being of a God ; for that any thing
ihould exifl: without a caufe, or be the caufe of its own exiltence,
are pi'opofitions equally contradictory to our reafon ; yet one of them
mull; be true, or n(jthing could ever have exifted : in like manner the
over-ruling grace of the Creator, and the free-will of his creatures,
liis certain fore-knowledge of future events, and the uncertain con-
tingency of thofe events, are to our apprehenfions abfolute contradicti-
ons to each other ; and yet the truth of every one of thefe is demon-
ftrable from Scripture, reafon and experience. All thefe difficulties
arife from onr imagining, that the mode of exigence of all Beings
muft be fuTiilar to our own ; that is, that they mult all exift in time,
and fpace ; and hence proceeds our einbarraflTinent on this fubject.
We know that no two Beings, with whofe mode of exiftence weare
acquainted, can exift in the fame point of lime in the fame point of
ipace, and that therefore they cannot be one : but how far Beings,
whofe mode of exiftence bears no relation to time or fpace, may be
united, we cannot coinprehend : and therefore the poflibility of fiich
an union we cannot poffitively deny. In like manner out reafon \rhz
fjorms us, that the punilhment of the innocent, inftead of the guilty,.
U di.imetricaliv oppolitc tojultiec, reClilutlc and all prcitiifions to uti^.

lityj

( 35 )

lity ; but we fhould alfo remember, that the fhort line of our rcafoil
cannot reach to the bottom of this quertion : it cannot inform lis, by
what means either guilt or punilhmcnt ever gainti<l a place in the
works of a Creator infinitely good and powerful, whofe goodnefs"
mull have induced him, and whofe power muft have enabled him to
exclude them : It cannot alfure us, that fomc fufferings of individu-
als are not neceffary to the happinefs and well-being of the whole : It
cannot convince us, that they do not actually arife from this neceflity,
or that for this caufe they may not be required of us, and levied liks
a tax for tlie public benefit : or that this tax may not be paid by one:
Being, as well as another ; and therefore, if voluntarily offered, be
julfly accepted from the innocent inftead of the guilty. Of all thefe
circumltances we are totally ignorant ; nor can our reafon afford us a-
ny information, and therefore we are not able to afTert, that this mea-
fure is contrary to jufticc, or void of utility : for unlefs we could firft
refolvc that great queftion, whence came evil ? we can decide nothinj:;
on the difpenfatio ns of Providence; becaufe they muft necefTarily be
conueded with that undifcoverable principle; and, as we know not
the root of the difeafe, wc cannot judge of what is, or is not, a pro-
per and efRjdual remedy. It is remarkable, that, notvvithflanding all
the feeming abfurditics of this do6lrine, there is one circumflance
much in its favor; whicli is, that it has been univcrfally adopted ir\
ail ages, as far as hiftory can carry us back in our enquiries to the carli-
eft times ; in which we find all nations civilized and barbarous, how-
ever differing in all other religious opinions, agreeing alone in the ex-
pediency ot appeafing their offended Deities by facrifices, that is, hv
the vicarious fuflerings ot men or other animals. This notion
could never have been derived from reafon, bccaufe it directly contra-
di(5ls it; nor from ignorance, becaufe ignorance could never have con-
trived fo unaccountable an expedient, nor have been uniform in all
ages and countries in any opinion whatfoevcr ; nor from the artifice
of kings or priefts, in order to acquire dominion over the people be-
caufe it feems not adapted to this end ; and we find it implanted in
the minds of the mofl remote favages at this day difcovered, who
have neither kings nor prieffs, artifice nor dominion, amf)ngft them.
It muft therefore be derived from natural inP.infl, or fupernatural re-
velation, bofb wW]c\\ ^re e/jually ihz operations of divine power. If it
is further urged, that however true thefe do6lrines may be, yet it mufl
be inconfilfent with the juftice antt goodnefs of the Creator, to re-
quire from his creatures the belief of propofitions which contr3dI61, or
arc above the reach of th;jt reafon whish he has thought proper to be-

Hov/

. C 36 ) ,

flow upon them. To this I anfwer, that genuine Chriflianity requires
no fuch belief: It has difcovered to us many important tniihs, with
which we were before entirely unacquainted, and amongft them are
thefe, that three Beings are Tome way united in the divine efff nee,
and that God will accept of the (uiferings of Chrift as an atonement
for the fins of mankind. Thefe, confidered as declarations of fads
only, neither contraditl, nor are above the reach of human reafon :
The firft is a propofition as plain, as that three equilateral lines com-
pofe one triangle ; the other is as intelligible, as that one man fhould
difcharge the debts ot another. In what manner this union is form-
ed, or why God accepts thefe vicarious puniihments, or to what pur-
pofes they may be fubfervient, it informs us not, becaufe no infor-
mation could enable us to comprehend thefe myfteries, and there-
fore it does not require that we (hould know or believe any thing a-
bout ihem. The truth of thefe do6^rines m.uft reft entirely on the
authority of thofe who taught them ; but then we (hould refieft that
thofe were the fame perfons who taught us a fyftem of religion more
fubruTse, and of ethics more perfed, than any which our faculties
were ever able to difcover, but which, wiien difcovered, are exactly
confonant to our reafon, and that therefore we fliould not haftily re-
ject thofe informations which they have vouchfafed to give us, of
>vhichour reafon isnot a competent judge. If an able mathematici-
an proves to us the truth of feveral propofitions by demonftrations
which we underftand, we hefitate not on his authority to aflTent to o-
thers, the procefs of whofe prools we are not able to follow : why
therefore Ihould we refufe that credit to Chrift and his Apoftles
which we think reafonable to give to one another?

Many have objedled to the whole fcheme of tjiis revelation as par-
tial, fludluating, indeterminate, unjufl:, and unworthy of an onmifci-
entand omnipotent Author, who cannot be fuppofed ♦ohave favoured
particular perlbns, countries, and times, with this divine communicati-
on, while others no lefs meritorious have been altoj^ether excluded
from its.benefits ; nur to have changed and counteracSled his own de-
figns ; that is, to have formed mankind able and difpofed to render
themfelves miferable by tlieir own wickednefs, and then to have con-
trived fo ftrange an expedient to reftore them that happinefs which
they need never have been permitted to forfeit ; and this to be brought
about by the unnecelTary interpofition of a Mediator. To all this I
ihall only fay, that however imaccohntable this may appear to us, who
fee but as fmall a part of the Chrillian, as of the univerfal plan of cre-
ation j they are both in regard to all thefe circumftances exa£tly ana-
logous

lo^otis to each other. In all the difpenfations of Providence, v^ith
which we arc acquainted, benefits are diflributed in a fimilar manner ;
heahh and (trength. fcnfe and fcicnce, wealth and power, are all be-
ftowed on individuals and Communities indifferent degrees and at dif-,
ferent times. The whole economy of this world confii'ls of evils and
remedies i and thele for the mcft part adminillered by the inRrnmcnf-
ality of intermediate agents. God has permitted us to plunofe oiu--
felves into poverty, diftrefs and mifery, by our own vices, and has
afturded us the advice, inilruflinns and examples of others, to de-
ter or extricate us from thefe calamities. He has formed us fubjecl
to innumerable difeafes, and he has bellowed on us a variety of reme-
dies. He has made us liable to hunoer, third and nakednefs, and he
Supplies us with food, drink and cloathing, nfually by the admini-
ftration of others* He has created poifons, and he has provided an-
tidotes. He has ordained the winter's cold to cure the peRilential
heats of the fummer, and the fummer's funfliine to dry up the inun-
dations of the winter. Why the conrtitution of nature is fo formed,
why all the vifible difpenfations of Providence are fuch, and why fuch
is the Chriftiandifpenfation alfo, we know not, nor have facultits to
comprehend. God might certainly have made the material world a
fyftem of perfe£l beauty and regularity, without evils, and without re-
medies ; and the Chriftian difpenfation a fchems only of moral vir-
tue produ6live of happinefs, without the intervention of any atone-
ment or mediation. He might have exempted our bodies from all
difeafes, and our minds from all depravity, and we fhould then have
flood in no need of medicines to reftore us to health, or expedients to
reconcile us to his. favour. It feems indeed to otir ignorance, that
this would have been more confident with juRice and reafon ; but his
infinite wifdom has decided in another manner, and formed the fyf-
tems both of Natiue and Chriflianity on other principles, and thefe
fo exadly Cmilar, that we have caufe to conclude that they both muffc
proceed from the farne fource of divine power and wifdom, however
inconfiffent with our reafon they may appear. Reafon is undoubted-
ly our furefl guide in all matters, which lie within the narrow circle
of her intelligence : On the fubje6l of revelation her province is oiily^
to-examine into its authority, and when that is once proved, (he his
no more to do, but to acquiefce in its doctrines, and therefore is ne-
ver fo ill employed, as when flie pretends to accommodate them fo
!ier own ideas of reditude and truth. God, fays this felf-fiifncicnt
teacher, is perfedly wife, jufi: and good; and what is the inference ?
That all his difpenfaticais muil be confoimabie to our notions of per-

fedl

. r ,, ^ creator, or thrs confenuence w N hv

no means fo low ; bu, .a.ner the reverfe, ,h« i,, that rte d f, Li'

• I.e eall h,rp,,n„g, ,ha, we are no, able ,o u„derftand ,be fpiri, ,ll

lel> ncoir.prehenfible. our realon can afford us no i„(i..ht into thofe
great properues of .rra.rer, gravitation, attradion. elafti ity ,,'d f

." nsTLv 1,' T""' "* ^^" '^" » ^'-'^- "^"'■e diameter con-
r Zf;: rf T'- -='• —«-t inundation of fucceffive
rf ha bfd f ' , ="'"• "'""'"' ^"^ P=-""^'>l- diminution
n e a ■„ „ , T, " '"" "'^' "^ """""^">- '""«''• "^ -v aug.

c.:;; a , l : c ■,: r":,"''';,'"^^, '"■■ =-" '- -■'^'' '^=-^ -<=

a vclocitv a ,Zur A ' '" ''"'' "'"'= "y^. darted with

rtnkc .e,r r "™=^S'■=^"=■• "»" 'h^ofa cannon ball, can

•forms of diZ, IV """' *" P"'"'"™ ""'y "" ~"vey .he
rms ot dtOan objeas to an tmmateriai mind > or how any union

r 7 '^ "" S've pain to the foul, or ,he anxiety of ,1,^

foul can cmacrateand deftrov thebody J Tb,/ il .1 r u '^

we„aye v„1b,e and indifptuabirdtonrtrlit'; t:"hf: c^: t
' i ,i : "L"nrT'""?t'"= - *^ ■""« abftrufe m L o R
fo iu e of^b! ' ,"" \ ^"f""'" ' P"" °f '^= g-a. Whole, we hnofv
fu. f, te :f "™ "''"'■ "';P«''-' '■■•■= l--- .opre-eiiftent and

materi and T "^ "V f ' *= "" comprehend fo litde of the

••"landings: and confo,;",!; t'o,r;:for":e''fl::?d1''" '" ""' "7
to r.ifn,>A ifr- ]• • 7 . '«-'iiun , we iJiould have great caufe

efs Icomp eh nfib?"' t""'' ,', ""' '""='"'=' ''' ""^ --''"" <-«

But rZ r, r ', "T '' '"'■■'"'>' ''^"^ I^^'^" "»"•<= in""'ible.

.bns b-clu e I ■? r' " '"•" "'^ conlideration of thefe fpecda-

ediou, td , I '""";" "' ""='" "■""''' -"d.^r this Ihort effav too

.r ncinlv i :"™r ' 'f ,*"' "" ''"■"■"' "' ">-' f" "■'-" i' wa!

pLafuK, >mbu,on. or h,.u,r.,, who know t.othing of this religion,

except

except what they have accidentally picked up by defultory convcrfiition
or lupcrlicial rcaJing, an.i have thence detei mined with themfelvcs,
tliat a pretended revelation founded on fo fliange and improbable a
ll uy, fo coniradi£lory to reafon, lo adverfe to ilie world and all its oc-
cupations, loincrecliblc in i-ts doctrines, and in it^ precepts fo in-iprac-
ticable, can be nothing more than the iinpufition of pritftcrait upon
ignorant and illuerate ages, anil artiuily continued as an engine well
adapted to awe and govern the iiiperftitious vulgar. To talk to fiich
;ii» lut the Chriitian religion, is to converfc with the deaf conccrriinsr
niidic, or with the blind on the beauties of painting : They want all
ideas relative to the fubje£l, and therciore can never be nnade to com-
prehend it : to enahle them to do this, their mmds mnft be formed
fur. thcfe conceptions by contemplation, retirement, and abftradtion
from bufinels and diflipation, by ill health, difappointments, and dif-
trciies ; and poinbly by divine interpofition, or by eiithuiiafm, which
is ufually millaken for it. Without fome of thefe preparatory aids,
together with a competent degree of learning and application, it is im-
poliible that they can think or know, underlland or believe, any thing
abotit it. If they protels to believe, they deceive others ; if they fan-
cv that they believe, they deceive themfelves. I am ready to acknow-
ledge, that thefe gentlemen, as far as their information reaches, are
pertedly in the right ; and if they are endued with good underilandings
which have been entirely devoted to the bufinefs or amufcments of the
world, they can pals no other judgment, ^nd mufl: revolt from the
hiflory and doctrines of this religion. '' The preaching Chrift cruci-
fied was to the Jews a ftumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolifh-
nefs;"'"' and fo it muft appear to all, who, like them, judge fromef-
tribiilhed prejudices, falfc learning, and fuperficial knowledge; for
thole who are quite una'ile to follow the chain of its prophecy, to fee
the beauty and juflnefs of its moral precepts, and to enter into the
wonders of its dilpenfations, can form no other idea of this revelation,
but liiat of a coniufed rhapfody of fictions and ablhrditics.

If it is afkcd, was Ghriflianity then intended only for learned divines
?ind profound philofophcrs ? I anlvvcr, No : it was at firft preached
by I he illiterate, and received by the ignorant ; and to fuch are the
pra6lical, which are the moi\ neceif'ary parts of it, fiifficiently intelli-
gible: but the proofs of its authority undoubtedly are not, becaufe
thcfe mud be chieily drawn from other parts, of a fpeculative nature,
opening to our enquiries inexhauftible difcoveries concerning the na-
t;jre; attributes, anddifpenfations of God, which cannot be undcrRooct

\Aithout
'> Csr. I 26.

( 43 )
without fome learning and much attention. From thefe the generali-
ty of mankind muft neceilarily be excluded, and miift therefore truft to
^others tor the grounds of tiieir belief, if they believe at all. And hence
perhaps it is, that faith, or eafinefs of belief, is (o frequently and fo
llrongly recommended in the gofpel ; becaufe if men require proofs, "of
which they themfelves are incapable, and thofe who have no know-
ledge on this important fubjcfl; will not place fome confidence in thofc
who have; the illiterate and unattentive muft ever continue in a ftate
of unbelief: but then all fuch lliould remember, that in all fcicnces,
even in mathematics themfelves, there are many propoiitions, which
on a curfofy view appear to the moft acute undcrftandings uninftrudl-
ed in that fciencc, to be impolhble to be true, which yet on a clofcr ex-
amination are found to be truths capable of the ffridleft demonilrati-
on; and that therefore in dift]ui(itions on which we cannot determin«
without much learned inveffigation, reafon uninformed is by no means
to be depended on ; and from hence they ought furcly to conclude,
that it may be at leafl: as polhble lor theyi to be miftaken in difbeiiev-
ing this levelation, who know nothing of the matter, as for thofa
great mafters of reafon and eiudidition, Grotius, Bacon, Newton,
Milton, Boyle, Locke, Addifon, and Lyttclton, to be deceived in their
belief: a belief, to which they firmly adhered after the moft diligent
and learned refearches into the authenticity of its records, thecomple-r
tion of the prophecies, the fubliroity of its dodrines, the purity of its
precepts, and the arguments of its adverfaries; a belief, which they hava
teftified to the world by their writings, without any other motive, than
their regard for truth and the benefit of mankind,

Should the few foregoing pages add but one mite to the treafures
with which thefe learned writers have enriched the world ; if they
fhould be fo fortunate as to perfuade any of thefe minute philofophers
to place fome confidence in thefe great opinions, and to diftruft their
own ; if they Ihould be able to convince them, that notwithftanding
all unfavourable appearances, Chrillianity may not be altogether arti-
fice and error ; if they fhould prevail on them to examine it with
fome attention, or, if that is too much trouble, not to reje£l it, with
out any examination at all ; the purpofe of this little work will be fiit-
ficiently anfwered. Had the arguments herein ufed, and the new
hints here flung out, been more largely difcuifed, it might eafily have
been extended to a more confideiable bulk ; but then the bu(y would
not have had leifure ; nor the idle inclination to have read it. Should
it ever have the honour to be admitted into fiich good company, they
will immediately, I know, determine, that it inuH be the work of

fome

( 41 )
fome enthnfiaft or methodill, fome beggar, or fome madman. I
fhall therefore beg leave to airure them, that the author is very tar re-
moved from all thefe charailer- : that he once perhaps believed as lit-
tle as thcmleives ; but liaving ronfe Icifure and more curiofny, he em-
ployed them both in rclolving a quedion which feemed to him of fome
importance, — Whether Chrilliaiiity was really an importiire foiituied
oti ail abhird, incredible and oblolete fable, as many luppofe it ? Or
AA'hcther it is, wfuu it pretends to be^ a revelation communicated to
inuimiiiti by the intcipofition of fnpernatural power ? On a candid en-
quiry, he loon foun.!, that the firit was an abfolute impoffibility, and
that its pretenfions to the latter were founded on the moil: folid
grounds: In tlie lurther purfuit of his examination, he perceived, at
every itt-p, new lights arilnig, and fome of the brighteli from parts
of it the molt obfcure, but produdive of the clearelt proofs, becaufe
equally beyond the power of hiunan artifice to invent, and human rea-
fon to difcover. Thele arguments, whicfi have convinced hiin of the
divine origin of this religion, he has here put together in as clear and
concife a manner as he was able, thinkjng they might have the fame
efTedl upon others, and being of opinion, that if there were a few
more true Chriflians in the world, it would be beneficial to ihem-
felves, and by no means detrimental to the public.

End of Soame 'Jcnyns,

THE.

T H E

CONTENTS.

'SERMON I.

On the Union of Piety and Morality:

Acts. x. 4. "thy prayers and ihhie alms arc come up f.r a mcimrlal before
God.

SERMON II.

On the InfluenLC oi Religion upon Adverfity.

Psalm xxvii. ^. In the time of trouble, he Jhall hide me in his pavilion',
in the Secret of his tabernacle Jhall he hide me ; he Jhall Jet me up upon a rock,

SERMON III.

On the Influence of Religion upon Profperity.

Psalm i. 7. He JJmll be like a tree planted h the rivers of water, that
■ bringeth forth hisfrmt in his Jeaf.n; his leaf alfo Jhall not Wither, and what.
Joczer he doth Jhall profper.

SERMON IV.

On our imperfea Knowledge of a Future State.
I Corinth, xiii. 12. For now we fee through a glafs, darkly.

SERMON V.

On the Death of Chriil.

John xvli. i. Jefus lift up his eyes to heaven, and f aid, Fr^lher! the
hour is ccme ! —

xliv C O N T E N 1' S.

SERMON VI.

On Gentlenefs.

James ili. ly, The w'ljchm that is from above, is — gentle-^

SERMON VII.

On the Diforders of the Paffions.

Esther v. i^. Yet all this availeth me nothing, Jo hug as I fee Morde-
cai the feyo fitting at the King s gate.

SERMON VIII.

On our Ignorance of Good and Evil in this Life.

EcCLESIAST. vi. 12, JVho hioivcth tvhat is good for man in this life^
all the days of his vain life, which he fpendelh as a foadow z

SERMON IX.

On religious Retirement.
Ps.^LM- iv. 4. Commune zvith your own heart, upon your bed, and he flilL

SERMON X.
On Devotion,
Acts X. 2. Cornelius — A devout man.

S E R M O N XI.

On the Duties of the Young.
Titus ij, 6- Toung men Ukewife exhort, to he fober-m'inded.

SERMON XII.

On the Duties and Confolations of the Aged.

Pr«v. xvi. 31. The hoary head is a crowiJ of glory, if it be found in the
way of righteoifnefs.

CONTENTS.

xlv

SERMON XIIL
On the Power of Confoience.

his bkod IS required.

SERMON XIV.
On the Mixture of Joy and Fear in Religion.
Psalm ii. II- Rejoice tvhh trewMng.

SERMON XV.
On the Motives to Conllancy in Virtue.
Gal. vi- 9. And let us not be weary in tvell- doing : f:r in due Jeajon we
Jhallrecp, if we Joint not.

SERMON XVI.

On the Importance ot Order in Condud.
I Corinth, xiv. 40. Let all things be doue-in order.

S E R M O N XVII.

On the Government of the Heart.

Phoverbs iv. 23. Keep thy hesrt with all diligence ; for out of it ^re
the iJJ'ues of life.

SERMON XVIII.

The fair.e Subjed continiicd.
Proverbs iv. 23. K.ep thy hc^rt idth nU diligence : for .ut rf it ore the
ifue> rf Ife.

^J^ CONTENTS.

SERMON XIX.
On the Unchangeablenefs of the Divine Nature.

SERMON XX.

On the Compaflion of Chiift.

SERMON XXI.

On the Love of Praife.
JoHNT ^ xii. 43. F,r thy loved the praife of men more than the prafe of

SERMON

>!»'■>' * !>. J. * * * * 1. -1- i>--^}!^

SERMON I.

On the Union of Piety and Morality,

Acts x. 4.

Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God.

^^ HE High and Lofty One who inhahileth eternity, dwelleth
?/^ ^ ^ alfo zvith him that is of humble and contrite heart. In the
^^^-yjf^ midft of his glory, the Almighty is not inattentive to the
**- -^ meaneftof his fiibje^ls. Neither obfcnrity of ftaticn, nor
imperfetSlion of kno\v!edge, links thofe below his regard, who wor-
iliip and obey him. Every prayer wliich they fend up from their fe-
cret retirements, is liilcned to by him; and every work of charity
which they perform, how unknown focver to the world, attra6ls his
notice. The text prefents a fignal indance of this comfortable truth.
In the city of Ca;farea, there dwelt a Roman centurion, a military
oiEcer of inferior rank, a Gentile, neither by birth nor religion enti-
tled to the privileges of the Jewilh nation. But he was a devout and
a benevolent man ; who, according to his mcafure of religious know-
ledge, fludied to perform his duty, prayed to God cdzvfiys, and gave
tmich alms to the people. Such achard6ler paifed not unobferved by God.
So highly was it honoured, that to this good centurion an Angel was
fent from heaven, in order to direil him to the means of full inllruc-
tion in the truth. The Angel accofts him with this falutation, Cor-
tieUus, Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God.
It is to tiie conjunction of prayers ar.d aims, that I purpofe now to
tlireC^t your thoughts, as deiirribing the refped^able and amiable cha-
racter of a man, as formingthe honour and the blefftdnefs of a true
Chriltian : piety joined with charity, faith with good works, ilc-
votion v/ith morality. Thefe are things which God hath con-
nt-Cied, and wliich it is impious in Jiian to fcp."rate. It Is only when

thyy

48 On the Union of

they re.nain united, that they can come up as a grateful memorial be-
fore God. I (hal! firft endeavour to ihew you, That ahns without
prayers, or prayers without alms, morahty without devotion, or de-
votion without morality, are extremely defeilive ; and then lliall
point out the happy eft'iiCls of their mutual union.

, I.ET us begin with confidcring the cafe of alms without prayers j
that is, of good works without piety, or a proper fen(e ot God and-
reltgion. Examples of this are not uncommon in the world. With
many. Virtue is, or at lead is pretended to be, a refpeelable and an
honoured name, while Piety founds meanly in their cars. They arc
men of tlie Vyforld, and they claim to be mer> of honour. They re(l
Uj)on their humanity, their public ipirit, their probity, and their truth
They arrogate to thernfelves all the mar>ly and the active virtues. But
devout affeitions, and religious duties, they treat with contempt, as
founded on fliadowy fpeculations, and fit to employ the attention only
of weak and fuperftitious minds. Now, in oppofition to fuch perfons,
I contend, That this neglefl of piety argues depravity of heart \ and
that it iniers an irregular difch.irge of the duties of morality.

First, it argues internal depravity ; for it difcovers a cold and a
hard heart. It there be any impreilion which man informed by na-
ture to receive, it is a (enfe of religion. As foon as his mind opens
to obfervation and refledlion, he difcerns innumerable marks ot his
dependent ftate. He finds hiuifelf placed, by fome fuperiour power,
in a vail world, where the vvifdom and goodnefs of the Creator are
eonfpicuous on every fide. The magnificence, the beauty and order
of natine. excite him to admire and adore. When he looks up to
that omnipotent hand which operates throughout the univerfe, he
is impreflfcd with reverence. When he receives blellings which he
cannot avoid afcribing to divine goodnefs, he is prompted to gratitude.
The expreihons of thofe affe£lio.ns, under the various forms of reli-'
gious worfhip, are no other than native eftufions of the human heart.
Ignorance may millead, and fuperftion may corrupt them ; but their
origin is derived from fentiments that are elfential to man.

Cart your eyes over the whole earth. Explore the mort reinote
quarters of the ealt or the weft. You may difcover tribes of men
without policy, or laws, or cities, or any of the arts of life: But na
where will you find thein without fome form of religion. In every re-
gion you behold the proftrate worfhipper, the temple, the altar, and the
offering. Wherever men have cxifted, they have be^en fenfible that

fome

Piety and Morality. 40

fome acknowledgment was due, on their part, to the Sovereign of
the world, if, in their rudelt and moft ignorant (late, this obi loca-
tion has been felt, what additional force muft it acquire by the im-
provements of human knowledge, but efpecially by the great difcove-
ries of the Chriitian revelation r Whatever, either from reverence or
from gratitude, can excite men to the worlhip of God, is by this re-
velation placed in fuch a light, as one (hould ihink were fuiBcicnt to
overawe the moft thoughtlefs, and to melt the moll obdurate mind.

Canfl; tluni, then, pretend to be a man of reafon, nay, a man of
virtue, and yet continue. regardlefs of one of the firO; and chief dic-
tates of human nature ? Where is thy fenfibility to what is right and
fit, if that loud voice which calls all nations throughout the earth to
religious homage, has never been heard by thee ? Or, if it has been,
heard, by v^hat ftrange and falfe refinements haft thou Aifled thofe
natural fentiments which it tends to awaken ? Calling thyfclf a fon,
a citizen, a friend i claiming to be faithful and afreclionatc in thefe
relations ; haft thou no fenfe of vviiat thou ovveft to thy firft Parent ;
thy higheft Sovereign, thy greateft Benefador ? Can it be confiftent
with true virtue or honour, to value thyfelf upon thy regard to inferi-
our obligations, and yet to violate that which is the moft (acred and
the moft ancient of all ? When fimplcinftincSl teaches the Tartar and
the Indian, together with his alms and good works, to join his prayers
to that Power whom he confiders as the fource of good, fliall it be no
reproach, in the moft enlightened ftate of human nature, and under the
pureft difpenfation of religion, to have extinguilhed the fenfe of grati-
tude to Heaven, and to flight all acknowledgrnent of the great and
the true God ? What does fuch condu6l imply, but cither an entire
want, or a wilful fuppiefllon, of fome of the beft and moft generous
afibdlions belonging to human nature r — Surely, there muft be an ef-
fential defeat in that heart which remains cold and infenfible, where
it ought to be afFe£led moft warmly. Surely, fuch a degree of depra-
vity muft be lodged there, as is fuuicient to taint all the other fprings
of pretended virtue.

But befides this, I muft contend, in the fccond place, That where
religion is neglc6led, there can be no regular nor (leady practice of
the duties of morality. The chara£ler will be often inconfiftent;
and Virtue, placed on a bafis too narrow to fupport it, will be al-
ways loofe and tottering. For fuch is the propenlity of our nature to
vice, fo numerous are the temptations to a relaxed and immoral con-
duct, that ftronger rcftraints than thofe of mere reafon are necefTury

G to

50 On the Union of

to be impofed on man. The fenfe of right and wI^^ng, the princi-
ple of honour, or the inRin6l of benevolence, arc barriers too feeble
to withltand the ftrenglh of palfion. In the tranquil feafons of life,
thefe natural principles may, perhaps, carry on the ordinary courfe of
Ibcial duties with (ome regularity. But wait until fome trying emer-
gence come. Let the ccntii6l of painuns arife. Let the heart be
cither woun Jed by fore dtl^refs, or agitated by violent emotions ; and
you iTiall prefently fee, that virtue without religion is inadequate to the
government of life. It is deRitute of its proper guard, of its firmed
fupport, of its chief encouragement. It will link under the weight
of misiortune ; or will yield to the folicitation of guilt.

The great motives that produce conftancy and firmnefs of aflion,
mud be of a palpable and ftriking kind. A divine Legiflator, utter-
ing his voice from heaven ; an omnifcient Witnefs, beholding us in
all our retreats ^ an almighty Governour, ftretching forth his arm to
punifh or reward, difclofmg the fecrets of the invifible world, inform-
ing us of perpetual relf prepared hereafter for the righteous, and of
indigriation and wrath awaiting the wicked : Thefe are the confidera-
tions which overawe the world, which fupport integrity, and check
guilt. They add to virtue that folemnity which fhould ever charac-
terize it. To the admonitions of confcience they give the authority
of a law. Co-operating with all the good difpofitions of a pious
man, they ftrengthen and infure their influence. On his alms you
can have no certain dependence who thinks not of God, nor has join-
ed prayer to his charitable deeds. But when humanity is feconded
by piety, the fpring froin which it flows is rendered, of courfe, more
regular and conftant. — In fhort, withdraw religion, and you (hake all
the pillars of morality; In every heart you weaken the influence of
virtue : And among the multitude, the bulk of mankind, you over-
throw its power.

Having thus fhewn that morality without devotion is both defec-
tive and unftable, I proceed to con fider the other extreme, of prayers-
without alms, devotion without morality.

In every age the pradlice has prevailed, of fubftituting certam ap-
pearances of piety in the place of the great duties of humanity and
mercy. Too many there have always been, who flatter themfelves with
the hope of obtaining the friendlhip of their Creator, though they neg-
lect to do juflice to their fellow-creatures. But fuch perfons may be
afTured, that their fuppofed piety is altogether of a fpurious kind. It
is an invention ot their own, unknown to reafon, unknown in the

word

Piety and Morality. 5 r

svord of God. In fcripture we are ever dire£^ed to try our faith by
our works, our love of God by our love of men. We are diredled to
confider piety as a principle which regenerates the heart, and forms it
to goodnefs. We are taught, that in vain we addrefs any a6ls of ho-
mage to Chrift, unlefs we do the things which he faith ; and that lovct
peace, gentleriefs, goodnefs, meeknefs, and temp-rance, are not only the
injundlions of his law, but the n-iiiwcfruits of his f pi tit*. If therefore,
while piety feems ardent, morality Ihall decline, you have full reafon
to believe, that into that piety fome corrupting ingredients have en-
tered. And if ever your regard to morality Ihall totally lail ; if, while
you make many prayers, you give no alms \ if, while you appear to
be zealous for God, you are falfe or unjult to men ; if you are hard
or contracted in heart, fevere in your cenfures, and opprellive in your
conduft ; then conclude with certainty, that what you had termed
piety was no more than §n empty name. For as foon, according to
the fcripture hmilitude, will hitter zvaters fjow from a fivect fountain,
as fuch efFedts be produced by genuine piety.

What you have called by that name, refolves itfelf into one or
other of three things. Either it is a hypocritical form of gocllinefs,
aifumed in order to impofe on the world ; or, which is the mofl fa-
vourable fuppofition, it is a tranfient impreflion ot ferioufnefs, an ac-
cidental melting of the heart, which paffcs avoay like tfye morning cloud
and the early dew ; or, which I am afraid is too often the cafe, it is the
deliberate refuge of a deluded and fuperRitious, but, at the fame time,
a corrupted mind. For all men, even the mod depraved, are fubjed^,
more or lefs, to compun£lions of confcience. It has never been in
their power to withdraw totally beyond the reach of that warning voice,
which tells them that fomcthing is neceiTary to be done, in order
to make their peace with the Ruler of the world. But, backward
at the fame time to refign the gains of diflionelly, or the plcafures
of vice ; averfe from fubmifTion to that facred law which enjoins
righteoufnefs in its whole extent, they have often attempted to
make a fort of compoiition with Heaven ; a compofition, which,
though they dare not avow it in words, lurks in iecret at the bottom
of many a heart. If God will only difpenfe with fome articles of
obedience, they will repay him with abundant homage. If they
fail in good practice, they will (hidy to be found in belief; and, by
the ni^ber of their prayers, will atone, in fomemeafure, for their de-
ficiency in charitable deeds.

But the attempt is as vain as it is impious. From the fimpleft and
plaineft principles of reafon it mufl appear, that religious worfliip,

dii'joingd
* Luhe vi. 46. CaL v. 22.

52 On the Union of

disjoined from juflice and virtue, can upon no account whatever find
acceptance with the Supreme Being. To what purpoje is the multitude
cf yourjacrifices unto me '. faith the Lord. Bring no more vain oblations.
Inccnfe /j an abomination unto me. The new moons and fabbaths, the
calling of afj'emblies, I cannot aiuay with ; it is iniquity, even the fokmn

77ieetings'-^. Ccafe, foolifh and impious man ! Ceafe to confider the

Almighty as a weak* or vain-glorious being, who is to be appeafed
by thy devout prollrations, and thy humble words ; or to be gratified
by the parade and oftentation of external worlhip. What is all thy
worfhip to him P //-?// he eat the flefli of thy facrifices, or drink the blood
gJ offered goats r Was worfliip required of thee, dort thou think, upon
his account, that tiiou mightelt bring an increafe to his glory and felicity
by thy weak and infignificant praifes r Sooner mightcft thou increafe the
fplcndour of the fun by a lighted taper, or add to the thunder by thy
voice. No : It is for the fake of man, not of God, that worfhip
and prayers are required ; not that God may be rendered more glori-
ous, but that man may be made better ; that he may be confirmed
in a proper fenfe of his dependent (late, and acquire thofe pious and
virtuous difpofjtions in which his higheft improvement confids.

Of all the principles in religion, one fliould take this to be the
moH: evident ; and yet frequent admonitions are needed, to renew the
imprefiionof it upon mankind. For what purpofe did thy Creator place
thee in this world, in the midfl: of human fociety, but that as a man
among ir.en thou mightefi: cultivate humanity ; that each in his place
might contribute to the general welfare; that as a fpoufe, a brother,
a fon, or a friend, thou mightefi a£l thy part with an upright and a
tender heart ; and thus afpire to refemble Him who ever conlults the
good of his creatures, and whofe tender mercies arc over all his works ?
And dareft thou, who haft been facrificing unfufpicious innocence to
thy loofe pleafures ; thou who haft been difturbing the repofe of fo-
ciety by thine ambition or craft ; thou, who, to increafe thy trea-
fures, haft been inaking the widow and the orphan weep ; dareft
thou approach God with thy worfliip and thy prayers, and entertain
the hope that he will look down upon thee in peace ? Will the God
of order and juftice accept fuch poor compenfation for his violated
laws r Will the God -of love regard the fervices of one who is an ene-
my to his creatures ? Shall a corrupter of the fociety of men afpire to
the habitations of pure and bleffed fpirits ? — Believe it, He that faith he
loveth Godmufi love his brother alfo. Cenfe to do evil: Learn to do zuell.
Seek judgment, relirue the cpprrj/ed. Judge thefatherlrfs, plead for the ividow :
And then, drazu nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to thee ; call upon
* Ifa.'i. II. i|. ^'f^

Piefy and Morality. 53

him In the day of trouhJe, and he rvill anfwer thee. Thy prayers and
thine alms (hall then afcend in joint memorial before the Moll High.

I HAVE now (lie'vvn the evil of maiming and fplitting religion;
of dividing afunder two things which though in theory they may be
feparated, yet in pradice muft always co-exift, if either of them be
real. Devotion to God and Charity to men. Let us confider next
the happy efFt£is of their union.

Their union forms the confident, the graceful, the refpeftable cha-
radler of the real Chriitiaa, the man of true worth. If you leave ei-
ther of them out of your fyftcm, even though you excel in the other,
you can fland trial only in one point of view. It is only on one fide
your character is fair ; on the other, it will always be open to much
reproach. And as you diihonour yonrfelves, fo you do great injufficc
to religion. For, by dividing its parts from one another, you never fail
to expofe it to the ccnfure of the world : And perhaps, by this fort ot
partial and divided goodncfs, religion has fufFered more in the efleem
of mankind than by open profligacy. The unbeliever will fcofF at
your piety, when he fees you negligent of moral duties. The bigot
will decry all morality, when he fees you pretending to be a follower
of virtue, though you be a defpifer of God. Whereas he who fears
God, and is at the fame time ju-l and beneficent to men, exhibits re-
ligion to the world with full propriety. It fliines in his condu6l with
its native (plendour ; and its rays tlirow a glory round him. His
ch2ra(fler is above reproach. It is at once amiable and venerable.
Malice itielf is afraid to attack him j and even the worfl men refpeft
and honour him in their hearts.

This, too, is the man whofe life will be mofl peaceful and happy.
He who fails materially either in piety or in virtue, is always obnox-
ious to the anguifh of remorfe. His partial goodnefs may flatter him
in the day of fuperficial obfervation ; but when folitude or diff refs
awakens the powers of reflexion, he fhall be made to feel, that one
part of duty performed, atones not for another which is negledled. In
the midft of his prayers, tiie remembrance of injuftice will upbraicf
him with hypocriiy; and in the difiribution of his alms, the prayers
which the poor put up for him, will make him blufh for his negle6t
of God. Confciencc will fupply the place of the hand coming forth
to write over againft him on the wall. Thou art weighed in the balance,
atjd art found wanting*. Whereas he who holds both faith and a good
conjcicnce, who attends equally to the difcharge of his duty towards

God
* Dan. V. 27.

^4 On the Union of

God and towards man, enjoys, as far as human imperfection allows,
the fcnfe of fairnefs and confiftency in condudl, of integrity and found-
nefs of heart.

The man of mere morality, is a ftranger to all the delicate and re-
fined pleafferes of devotion. In works of beneficence and mercy, hs
may enjoy fatisfadlion. But his fatisfadion is deftitute of that glow
of afFedlion, which enlivens the feelings of one who lifts his heart at
the fame time to the Father of the Univerfe, and confiders himfelf as
imitating God. The man again who refls folely in devotion, if that
devotion open not his heait to humanity, not only remains a flranger
to the pleafures of beneficence, but muft often undergo the pain arifing
from bad pafiions. But when beneficence and devotion are united,
they pour upon the man in whom they meet, the full pleafures ot a
good and pure heart. His alms conne£l him with men^ his prayers
v.'ith God. He looks without difmay on both worlds. All nature
has to him a benign afpeft. If engaged in adive life, he is the friend
of men ; and he is happy in the exertions of that friendfhip. ' Jf left
in retirement, he walks among the Vv^orks of nature, as v/ith God.
Every object is enlivened to him by the fenfe of the Divine prefenct:.
Every where he traces the beneficent hand of the Author nf nature ;
and every where, with glowing heart, he hears and anfwers his fecret
voice. When he looks up to heaven, he rejoices in the thought that
there dwells that God whom he ferves and honours ; that Saviour in
whom he trufts ; that Spirit of grace from whofe infpiration his piety
and his charity flow. When he looks around him on the world, he
is fooihcd with the pleafing remembrance of good otfices which he has
done, or at lead has fludied to do, to many who dwell there. How
comfortable tiie refle6tion, that him no poor man can upbraid for
having withheld his due ; him no unfortunate man can reproach for
having feen and defpifed his forrows ; but that on his head are de-
fcending the prayers of the needy and the aged ; and that the hands
of ihofe whom his prote£lion has fupported, or his bounty has fed,
are lifted up in fecret to biefs him !

Life, palled under the influence of fuch difpofitions, naturally lead-s
to a happy end. It is not enough to fay, that faith and piety, joined
with adlive virtue, conftitute the requilite preparation for heaven. They
in truth begin the enjoyment of heaven. In every ftate of our ex-
igence, they form the chief ingredients of felicity. Hence they are
the great marks of Chriflian regeneration. They are the fignature
of that Holy Spirit, by which good men are faid to be Jeakd unto
the day of redefnpticn. The text affords a ftriking proof of the efti-
mation in which the,v are held by God. Amidft that infinite va-
riety

s Piety aid Morality, 55

riety of human events which pafs under his eye, the prayers and the
ah«s of CorneHus attradled his particular notice. He remarked the
amiable dilpofitions which rofe in the heart of this good man. But
he faw that they were yet imperfedl, while he remained unenlightened
by the principles ot the Chriltian religion. In order to remove this
obftruclion to his rifing graces, and to bring him to the full know»
ledge of that God whom he fought to honour, he was favoured with
a fupernatural melVage from heaven. While the Princes of the earth
were left to a6l by the counfels of their own wifdom ; while, without
interpofition from above, Generals conquered or fell, according to the
viciflitude of human things ; to this good Centurion an angel was
commiifioned from the throne of God.

What can I fay more or higher in praife of this blefTed character,
than that it is what God delights to honour f Men fingleout astheobjedts
of dirtindlion, the great, the brave, or the renowned. But he ivh^
Jeeth not as manfeeth, paffing by thofe qualities which often Hiine with
falfe fplendour to human obfervation, looks to the inward principles
of adlion ^ to thofe principles which form thecfTence of a worthy cha-
rader; and which, if called forth, would give birth to whatever is
laudable or excellent in condudl. — Is there one, though in humble
ftation or obfcure life, who fearelh GocI and worheth rightcoufnefs ; whofe
prayers and alms, proceeding in regular unaffeded tenour, befpeak
the upright, the tender, the devout heart. — Thofe alms and prayers
come up in memorial before that God who is no rejpe5ier of perfons.
The Almighty beholds him from his throne with complacency. Di-
vine illumination is ready to inftru£l him. Angels minifter to him.
They now mark him out on earth as their future alfociate ; and for
him they make ready in paradife, the white rsies, the palmst and t hi
Jceptres of the juft.

To this honour, to this bleffednefs, let our hearts continually af-
pire ; and throughout the whole of life, let thofe folemn and facred
words, with which I conclude, found in our ears, and be the great
diredory of our condu6l : * Hehathjheivedthe', Oman, what is good;
and what doth /he Lord thy God ret^uire of thee, but — todojujily, and love
mercy — and to walk humbly with thy Ged ?

SERMON

» Mlcah vi. 8.

( 55 .)

SERMON II.

On the Influence of Religion upon Adversity.

Psalm xxvii. 5,

In the time of IrouhU, he Jhdl hide me in his pavilion ; in the fee ret of hi 5
tabernacle frmli he hide me ; he fjull Jet me upon a rod.

THE life of man has always been a very mixed flate, full of imcer-
tainty and viciffitude, of anxieties and fears. In every religious
audience, there are many who fall under the denomination of the un-
fortunate ; and the re(l are ignorant how foon they may be called to
join them. For the profperity of no man on earth is ftable and aflTur-
cd. Dark clouds may f(Jon gather over the heads of thofe whofe fky
is now molt bright. In the midft of the deceitful calm which they
enjoy, the ftorm that is to overwhelm them has perhaps already begun
to ferment. If a man live many years, and rejoice in them all ; yet let
him remember the days of darknefs, for they Jhall be many^.

Hence, to a thoughtful mind, no ftudy can appear more important,
than how to be fuitably prepared for the n-iisfortunes of life ; fo as to
contemplate them in profpeil without difmay, and, if they muff befal,
to bear them without deje£lion. Throughout every age, the wif-
dom of the wife, the treafures of the rich, and the power of the migh-
ty, have been employed, either in guarding their flate againfl the
approach of diftrefs, or in rendering themfelves lefs vulnerable by its
attacks. Power has endeavoured to remove adverfity to a diffance.
Philofophy has f^udied, when it drew nigh, to conquer it by patience ;
and Wealth has fought out every pleafure that can compenfate or al-
leviate pain.

While the wifdoin of the world is thus occupied, religion has been
no lefs attentive to the fame important obje6l. It informs us in the
text, of a pavilion which God erc6ls to (helter his fervants in the time
if trouble, oi z Jeer et place in his tabernacle, \mo which be brings them,
of a rock on which he fets them up ; and elfewhere he tells us, of a fhield
and a buckler which he fpreads before them, to cover them from the ter-

reur
^ EccleJ, xi. 8,

On the Influence of ReTigton upon Adverfity, '5 7

rt'urhy night, and the arrow that flleth by day. Now, of what nature
are thofe inrtruments at defence, which God is reprefented as provid-
ing with fuch folicitous care for thole who fear him? Has he rear-
ed up any bulworks, impregnable by misfortune, in order to feparate
the pious and virtuous from the reft of mankind, and to fcreen tliciu
from the common difafters of life ? No : To thofe difaftcrs we be-
hold them liable no lefs than others. The defence which religion
provides, is altogether of an internal kind. It is the heart, not the
outward ftate, which it profeiTes to guard. When the time of trouhk
tomes, as come it mull to all, it places good men nndtr the pavilion of
the Almighty, by affording them that fecurity and peace which arifcs
from the belief of divine protection. It brings them into the fc ret
of his tabernacle, by opening to them fources of confolation which are
hidden from others. By that ftreaglh of mind with which it endows
them, it fets them up upon a rock, againft which the tempeft may vio-
lently beat, but which it cannot fliake.

How far the comforts proceeding from religion merit thofe high
titles under which they are here figuratively dcfcribed, I fliali in this
difcourfe endeavour to fhow. I fliall for this euil compare tofrether
the fituation of bad men, and that of the good, when both are fuffer-
ing the misfortunes of life \ and then make fuch improvement as
the fubje(Sl will naturally fuggelt.

I. Religion prepares the mind for encountering, with forti-
tude, the moft fevere fhocks of adverfity ; whereas vice, by its natu-
ral influence on the temper, tends to produce deje61i( n under the flivhr--
cfl trials. While worldly men enlarge their pofTellions, and extend
their connections, they imagine that they are firengthening tlKMr.lelves
againfl: all the pollible viciffitudes of life. They fay in their hearts,
My mountain flandsjirong, and I fh all never be moved. But fo fata] is
their delufion, that, inltead of ftrengthening, they are weakening that
which only can fupport them when thofe viciffitudes come. It is
their mind which mufi: then fupport them ; and their mind, by their
fenfual attachments, is corrupted and enfeebled. Addicted with in-
temperate fondnefs to the pleafures of the world, they incur two great
and certain evils ; they both exclude themfelves from every refourcc
except the world and they increafe thcirfenfibility to every blow which
comes upon them from that quarter.

They have neither principles nor temper which can fland the alTauit
of trouble. They have no principles which lead them to look beyond
H the

5^ , On the Influence of

the ordinary rotation of events ; and therefore, when misfortunes in-
volve them, the prolptd muft be comfortltfs on every fide. Their
crimes have difquahfied them from looking up to the ailiitance of any
higher power than th-rirown ability, or lor relying on any better guide
than their own vvifdom. And as from principle they can derive no
fupport, fo in a temper corrupted by profperity they find no relief.
Tliey have loil that moderation of mind which enables a wife man
to accommodate himfelf to his fituation. Long fed with falfe hopes,
they arc exafperated and flung by every difappointment. Luxurious
and effeminate, they can bear no uneafinefs. Proud and prefumptuous,
they can brook no oppofition. By nourifliing difpofiti(jns which fo
little fuit this uncertain (late, they have infufed a double portion of
bitternefs into the cup of woe ; they have (harpened the edge of that
fword which is lifted up to fmite them. Strangers to all the tempe-
rate fatisfadions of a good and a pure mind ; ftrangers to every plea-
fure except what was fcafoned by vice or vanity, their adverfuy is to
the lafl: degree difccnfolate. Health and opulence were the two pil-
lars on which they reded. Shake either of them, and tiieir whole
edifice of hope and comfort falls. ProRrate and forlorn, they are left
on the ground ; obliged to join with the man of Ephraim in his abjeft
lamentation, T^hey have taken away ?ny gods which 1 have made, and
ivhat have I more r * — Snch are the caufcs to which we mult afcribe tlie
broken fpirits, t!ie peevilh temper, and impatient pailions, that fo
oiten attend the declining age, or falling fortunes, of vicious men.
But how different is the condition of a truly good man in thofc
, trying fituations of life. Religion had gradually prepared his mind for
all the events of this inconflant ftate. It hafl inf}ru61cd him in the
nature of true happinefs. It had early wearied him from the undue
love of the world, by difcovering to him its vanity, and by fetting
higher profpc(9;s in his view. Affliflions do not attack him by fur-
prile, and therefore do not overwhelm him. He was equipped for
the ftorm, as well as the calm, in this dubious navigation of life.
Under thofe conditions he knew himfelf to be brought hither, that
he was not to retain always the enjoyment ot what he loved : And
therefore he is not overcome by difappointment, when that which is ■
mortal dies \ when that which is mutable begins to change ; and
when that which he knew to be tranficnt pafles away.

All the principles which religion teaches, and all the habits which
,' it forms, are favc>urab]e to flrength of mind. It will be found, that
■•;'^ whatever ptirifies, fortifies alfo the heart. In the courfe ofhving
\ righteoufl},

t\ * J^<<ig£h xviii. 24.

Religion upon Adverjliy. 55

rightcoxijly, Joherly, and godly, a good man acquires a (leady and weil-
governed Ipirit. Trained, by Divine grace, to enjoy with moderation
theadvanUges of the world, neither lifted up by fuccefs, nor enerva-
ted with fenfuality, he meets the changes in his lot without unmanly
dejeilion. He is inured to temperance and reflraint. He has learn-
ed hrmnefs and felf-command. He is acculiomed to look up to that
Supreme Providence, which difpofes of human affairs, not with re-
verence only, but with tru(^ and hope.

I'he time of profperity was to him not merely a feafon of barren
joy, but produdive of much ufefid improvement. He had cultivated
his mind. 'He had ftored it with uleful knowledge, with good princi-
ples, and virtuous difpofuions. Thefe refources remain entire, when
the days of trouble come. They remain with him in ficknefs, as in
health ; in poverty as in the midlt of riches ; in his dark and folitary
hours, no lefs than when furrounded with friends and gay fociety. From
the glare of profperity he can, without dejedion, withdraw into the
fhade. Excluded from feveral advantages of the world, he may be
obliged to retreat into a narrower circle ; but within that circle he will
find many comforts left. His chief pleafures were always of the calm,
innocent, and temperate kind ; and over thefe, the changes of the
world have the lead power. His mind is a kingdom to him ; and he
can ftill enjoy it. The world did not bellow upon him all his enjoy-
ments ; ?id therefore it is not in the power of the world by its moil
cruel attacks, to carry them all away.

II. The diflrelTes of life are alleviated to good men, by rcflefHons on
their part conduct ; while, by fuch refledlions, they are highly aggra-
vated to the bad. During the gay and a6live periods of life, finners
elude, in fome meafure, the force of confcience. Carried round in
the whirl of affairs and pleafures; intent on contrivance, or eager in pur-
fuit ; amufed by hope, or elated by enjoyment ; they are fheltered, by
that 'crowd of trifles which furrcnmds them, from ferious thought.
But confcience is too great a power to remain always fuppreifed. There
is in every man's life, a period when he fhall be made to ffand forth
as a real objedl to his own view : And when that period comes, wo
to him who is galled by the fight ! In the dark and folitary hour of
dilfrefs, with a mind hurt and fore from fome recent wound of fortune,
how fhall he bear to have his charadler, for the firfl ?ime, difclofed to hitn
in that humiliating light under which guilt will neceirarily prefcnt it?
Then, the recollection of the paft becomes dreadful. It exhibits to
him a life thrown away on vanities and fvUies, or confumed in fla-

/- - gitioufnefs

(}0 On the Influence of

tjitioufnefs and fin; no ftation properly fupporteil; no material duties
iu'ihllcd. Crimes which once had been eafdy palliated, rife before
liim in theirnativedefoimity. Thefenfeof guilt mixes itfelf with
all that has befallen him. He beholds, or thinks that he beholds,
the hand of the God whom he hath offended, openly ftretched ouj
againfl him. — At a feafon when a man ftands mofl in need of fup- '
port, how intolerable is the weight of this additional load, aggra-
vating the depreffion of difeafe, difappointment, or old age! How mi-
ferable his ftate, who is condemned to endure at once the pangs of
guiit, ar.d the vexations of calamity ! Thefpititofa man mayfuflaln his
infirmiiies ; but a wounded fp'irit , who can bear ?

Whereas, he who isblelfed with a clear confcience, enjoys, in the
word conjundures of human life, a peace, a dignity, an elevation of
mind peculiar to virtue. The tedimony of a good confcience is indeed
to be always diftiuguiihed from that prefumptuous boaft of innocence,
vviiich every good Chri.Qian totally difclaims. The better he is, he
will be the more humble, and fenfible of his failings. But though he
acknowledge that he cm claim nothing from God upon the fooling
of defert, yet he can truft in his merciful acceptance through Jefus
Chrift, according to the terms of the gofpel. He can hope that his
prayers and his alms have come up in memorial before God. The piety and
virtue of his former life were as feeds fown in his profperous ftate, of
which he reaps the fruits in the feafon of adverfity. The riches, the
pleafures, and the friends of the world, may have Tdz^twings to them-
felves, and flovjn azvay. But the improvement which he made of
thofe advantages while they lafted, the temperate fpirit with which
lie enjoyed thecn, the beneficent adlions which he performed, and
the good example which he iet to others, remain behind. By the me-
mory of thefe, he enjoys his profperity a fccond time in reflc61ion ; and
perhaps this fecond and reflected enjoyment is «ot inferior to the firft.
It arrives at a more critical and needful time. It affords him the high
latisfadion of having extracted lafting pleafure from that which is
fhort ; and oi having fixed that which by its nature was changing. —
" If my race be now about to end, I have this comfort, that it has not
" been run in vain. / have fought the good fight ; / have kept the faith.
" My mind has no load. Futurity has no terrours. 1 have endeavoured
" to do my duty, and to make my peace with God. I leave the relt
" to Heaven." Thefe are the refleclions which to the upright make
I'ght arife in darhnefs; refledlions which cheer the lonely houfe of virtu-
ous poverty, and attend the confcientious fufferer into prifon or exile;
which fooih the complaints of grief, lighten the prellure of old age,

and

Religion vpm Adverjiiy, 6t

and furnifli to the bed of ficknefs, a cordial of more grateful relifh,
and more fovereign virtue, than any which the vvotld can afford.

Look abroad into life, and you will find the general fenfe of man-
kind bearin^J- witnefs to this important truth, that mind is fuperior to
fortune; that what one feels within, is of much greater importance
than all that befals him without. Let a man be brought into fomff
fuch fevere and trying fituation, as fixes the attenticai oi the public on
his behaviour. The hrft queftion which we put concerning him, is
not, What does he fufFer ? but How does he bear it ? Has he a quj-
et mind ? or, Does he appear to be unhappy withiii ? If we judge
him to be compofed and firm, refigned to Providence, and fupported
by confciou-s integrity, his charadlcr rifes, and his mifery lelTens m
our view. We efteem and admire, rather than pity him. Recol-
lect what holy men have endured for the fake of coulcience, and with
what chcerfulnefs they have fuffered. On the other hand, when con-
fcience has concurred with outward misfortunes in diilrcirmg the guilty,
think of the dreadful confequences which havecnfued. How often,
upon a reverie of fortune, after abufed profperity, have they m^dly hur-
ried thcmfelves over that precipice from which there is no return ; and,
in what nature moft abhors, the voluntary extindion of life, have
fought relief from that torment of refledion, which was become too
great for them to bear ?

Never then allow yourfelves to imagine, tliat misfortunes alone
form the chief mifery of man. None but the guilty are completely
miferable. The mifgiving and diftrufl, the accufations and approaches
of their minds, the fenfe of having drawn down upon their heads the
evils which they fuffer, and the terrifying expectation of more and
vvorfe evils to come ; thefe are the cfTential ingredients of human mi-
fery. They not only whet the edge, but they envenom the darts of
afHi£tion, and add poifon to the wound. Whereas, when misfortunes
aindl a good man, they carry no fuch fatal auxiliaries in their train.
They may ruffle the fijrface of his foul; but there is a flrength with-
in, which refifis their further impreflion. The conftitution of his
mind is found. The world can infiid upon it no wounds, but what
admit of cure.

in. Ill men, in the lime of trouble, can look up to no protec-
tor; while good men commit themfelves, with truft and hope, to
the care of Heaven. The human mind, naturally feeble, is made to
feel all its weaknefs by the prclfure of adverfity. Dcje61ed with evils
which overpower its ftrength, it relies no longer on itfelf. It calls

every

62 On the Influence of

every where around a wl filing, exploring eye, for fome (helter t®
fcreen, fome power to uphold it ; and if, when abandoned by the
world, it can find nothing to which it may fly in the room of the
world, its ftate is truly forlorn. Now, whither (hould the ungodly,
in this fituation, turn for aid ? After having contended with the
ftorms of adverfe fortune till their fpirits are exhauded, gladly would
they retreat at lad to the fan6luary of religion. But that fanduary is
flint againft them ; nay, it is environed with terrours. They behold
there, not a Prote6lor to whom they can fly, but a Judge whom they
dread ; and in thofe moments when they need his friendfhip the mofl,
they are reduced to d-eprecate his vvrath. If he once called when they
rcfufed, and ft retched out his hands when they zveuld not regard, how much
realon have they to fear that he will leave them now to eat the fruit of
their oivn ways, and to be filled with their own devices, that he will laugh
at their calamity, and mock when their fear cometh r

But of all the thoughts which can enter into the mind, in the feafon
of d litre fs, the belief of an interefl in his favour who rules the world
is the moft foothing. Every form of religion has afforded to virtuous
men fome degree of this confolation. But it was referved for the Chri-
ftian revelation, to carry it to its highefl point. For it is the direft
fcope of that revelation, to accomodate itfelf to the circumflances of
man, under two main views; as guilty in the fight of God, and as
ftruggling with the evils of the world. Under the former, it difcovers
to him a Mediator and an atonement ; under the latt^, it promifes
him the Spirit of grace and confolation. It is a fyftem of complete
relief, extended from our fpiritual to our temporal diflrefles. The
fame hand which holds out forgivenefs to the penitent, and afliftance
to the frail, difpenfes comfort and hope to the afflicted.

It deferves your particular notice, in this view, that there is no cha-
radler which God more frequently afhimcs tohimfelfin the facred wri-
tings, than that of the Patron of the diflrefled. Compaflion is that at-
tribute of his nature which he has chofen to place in the greateft va-
riety ot lights, on purpofe that he might accommodate his majefly to
our weaknefs, and provide a cordial for human griefs. He is the hear-
er ot all prayers; but with particular attention he is reprefented as lif-
tening to the cry of the poor, and regarding the prayer of the deftituie. All
his creatures he governs with juflice and wifdom ; but he takes to
himfelf, in a fpecial manner, the charge of executing judgment for
the opprefJi;d, o'[proie5ling theflratiger, o'i delivering him who hath no hel-
per from the hand of the f poller . For the opprcffton of the poor, and for

iheftghing of the needy, will I arifc, faith the Lord, tofet him in ftifety

from

l^eVtgion upon Adverftty. 63

from him that puffdh at him. He is the Father of the fntherhfs, and
the Judge of the widoiv, in his holy habitation. He raifeth them up that
are bowed cl.iun. He divelleth zviih the contrite. He heakih the broken
in heart. For he knozvcth our frame ; he remembereth that zve are dufi.^
If the wiftlom of his providence faw it neceffary to place To iTiany of
his creatures in an afiiifled (late, that flate, however, he commifc-
rates. He difdains not to point out himfclf as the refuge of the virtu-
ous and pious ; and to invite them, amidfl: all their troubles, to pour
out their hearts before him. Thofe circumftances v.'hich eftrangc
others from them, intcreft him the more in their fituation. The ne-
glect or fcorn of the world cxpofes them not to any contempt in his
light. No obfcurity conceals them from his notice ; and though tiiey
(hould be forgotten by every friend on earth, they are remembered
by the God of heaven. That figh heaved from the affiifted bofom,
which is heard by no human ear, is liftened to by him ; and that
tear is remarked, which falls unnoticed or defpifed by the world.
Such views of the Supreme Being impart the moft fenfible confola-
tion to every pious heart. They prcfent his adminillration under an
arpe6l fo mild and benign, as in a great meafure to difperfe the gloom
which hangs over human life. A good man a6ls with a vigour, and
fuffers with a patience more than human, when he believes liinifelt
countenanced by the Almighty. Injured or opprefTed by the world,
he looks up to a Judge who will vindicate his caufe ; he appeals to a
Witnefs who knows his integrity ; he commits himfelfto a Friend
who will never forfake liim. When tired with the vexati-
ons of life, devotion opens to him its quiet retreat, where the
tumults of the world are hurtled, and its cares are loft in happy obli-
vion ; where z/)^ wicked ceafe front troubling, and the weary are a! ref.
There his mind regains its ferenity ; the agitation of paflion is calm-
ed ; and a foftening balm is infufed into the wounds of the fpirit.
Difclofing to an invifible Friend thofe fecret griefs Which he has no
encouragement to make known to the world, his heart is lighten-
ed. He does not feel himfelf iolitary or forfaken. He believes God
to be prefent with him, and the Holy Ghoft to be the infpirer of liis
confolations. From \.\\-iit fecret place of the divine tabernacle, into whicii
the Text reprefents him as admitted, he hears this voice ilTue, Call
upon me in the day of trouble, and I will anfi^cr thee. Fear not ; for I
am with thee. Be not difmayed ; for 1 am thy God. And as he hears a
voice which fpeaks to none but the pure in heart, fo he beholds a
hand which fmners cannot fee. He beholds the hand of Providence

conducing
^PfalmsiK.d. — cii.17. — cxlvi.y.— Ixviii.5. — cxlvii. 3. — ciii.i4,^r.

^4 On the Influence of

condudling alt the hidden fprings and movements of the univerfe ; and
v/ith a fecret, but unerring operation, dire£i;ing every event towards
the happinefs of the righteous. Thofc affliiTlions which appear to
others the meffengers of the wrath of Heaven, appear to him the
mmifters of fan deification and wifdom. Where theydifcern nothing
but the horrours of the tempeft which furrounds thera, his more en-
lightened eye beholds the angel who rides in the whirlwind, and di-
redls theftorm. Hence a peace keepitjg the nihid and heart, which is
no where to be found but under the pavU'mi of the Almighty,

IV. Good men are comforted under their troubles by the hope of
Heaven ; while bad men are not only deprived of this hope, but dif-
treffed with fears arihng fr&m a future ftate. The foul of man can
never divell itfelf wholly of anxiety about its fate hereafter. There
are hours when even to the profperous, in the midft of their pleafures,
eternity is an awful thought. But much more when thofe pleafures,
one after another, begin to withdraw ; when life alters its forms, and
becomes dark and cheerlefs ; when its changes warn the moft incon-
fiderate, that what is fo mutable will foon pafs entirely away \ then
with pungent carneftnefs comes home that queflion to the heart. In-
to what world are we next to go? — How miferable the man, who,
under the diHradions of calamity, hangs doubtful about an event
•which fo nearly concerns him ; who, in the midft of doubts and anx-
ieties, approaching to that awful boundary which feparates this world
from the next, fhuddcrs at the dark profpe6l bc-fore him ; wifhing to
cxifl: after death, and yet afraid of that exiftence ; catching at every
feeble hope which fuperftition can afibrd him, and trembling, in the
fame moment, from iefle(5lion upon his crimes !

But blelTed be God who hath brought life and immortality to light ;
who hath not only brought them to light, but fecured them to good
men ; and by the death and refurredion of Jefus Chriff, hath begot-
ten them unto the lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and
thatfadeth not away. Juflly is this hope ftyled in fcripture, the anchor
of the foul, both fur e andflalfafl. For what an anchor is to a (hip in a
dark night, on an unknown coaft, andamidlla boifterous ocean, that
is this hope to the foul when diftraded by the confufions ofthe world.
In danger, it gives fecurity ; amidft general fluduation, it affords one
fixed point of refl. It is indeed the mod eminent of all the advanta-
ges which religion now confers. For, confider the mighty power
of hope over the human mind. It is the univerfal comforter. It is
tJie fpxing of all human adivity. Upon futurity, men are conflantly

fufpended

Religion upon Adverfiiy, 5-

furpended. Animated by the profpea of fome diftant good, they toil
and fuffer through the whole couife af life ; and it is not fo much what
they are at prelent, as what they hope to be in fome after-time, that en-
livens their motions, fixes attention, and flimulates induftry. Now if
in the common affairs of life, fiich is the energy of hope, even when its
objedl IS neither very confiderable, nor very certain ; what effldls may it
not be expedcd to produce, when ifreHs upon an objeft fo fplend^d
as a hfe of immortal felicity r Were this hope entertained with that
full purhiafion which Chnltian faith demands, it would, in truth, not
merely alleviate, but totally annihilate, all human miferies. It would
banifh diicontent, extinguifh grief, and fufpend the very feclincof pain
But allowing for the mixture of human frailty; admittina thofe
abatements which our imperfection makes upon the elTed of e?"rv re
l.gious principle, mil yon will find, that, in proportion to the decree'
m which the hope of heaven operates upon good men, they will be
ranquil unier fufFenngs ; nay. they will be.happy,in comparifon of
thofe who enjoy no fuch relief. What indeed, in the courfe of hu-
man affairs, is fufhcient to difbefs, far lefs to overwhelm, the mind
of that man who can look down on all human things from an clcva
tion fo much above them ? He is only a palTenger through this world.
He IS travelling to a happier country. How difagreeable foever the
occurrences of his journey may be. yet at every ffage of that journey,
he receives the aflbrance that he is drawing nearer and nearer to the
period of rell: and fehcity.-Endure. and thou (halt overcome. Per-
levere.and thou fhalt be fuccefsful. , The time of trial haflens to a
dofe. T.y manfion is prepared above; thy reft remaineth amon^
the people of God. The diforders which vice has introduced intS
the works of God, arc about to terminate ; and all tears are foon to
be wiped away from the eyes of the ju(t.-The firm affurance of this
happy conclulion to the vexations and the vanities of life, works a
greater effea on the fincere illiterate Chriftian, than all the refine-
ments of philofophy can work on the moft learned Infidel. The^e
niay gratify the mind that is at eafe ; may footh the heart whe.x
fl.ghtly dilcompofed ; but when it is fore and deeply torn, when
bereaved of its beft and mort beloved comforts, the only confolations
that can then find accefs. arife from the hope of a better world,
where thofe comforts fhall be again redored. and all the virtuous
ftiall be a.rcmbled. m the prefence of him who made them. Such
hopes ban.fh that defpair which overwhelms, and leave only that ten.
der melancholy which foftens the heart, and often renders the whole
viiaracter more gentle and amiable.

^ Of

66 On the Influence of

Of this nature are the rcfources which religion provides for good
men. By its previous difripline, it trains them to {ortitiide ; by the
reflections of a good confcicnce it Iboths, by the fenfe of Divine fa-
vour it fijpports them ; and when every comfort fails them on earth,
it cheers them with the hope of heaven. Diitingiiifliing his fervants
with fuch advantages, God isjullly faidtoerefl his pavilion over them
in the evil time. He not only fpreads a tent for them in the ivilder-
nefs, but he transforms in fome meafure the ftate of nature around
them. To ufe the beautiful language of?ncient prophecy; In the
dffart, the thirfy hind, where no ivater is, he openethfprings. Infead of
the thorn, he maketh the fir tree to come up: injlead of the briar, the
myrtle tojpring. In the rnidji of the habitations of dragons, he maketh green
■paftures rife, and fill waters fow around his people.

The improvement to be made of thefe truths is as obvious as it is
important. Let us I'ludy fo to condi;61 our lives, that we may be qua-
lihed for deriving fuch confolations from religion. To their realitv,
and their importance, all mankind bear witnefs : For no fooner are
they overtaken by diifrefs, than to religion they fly. This, through-
out every age, h^s been the univerfal fhelt^er which the young and the
old, the high and the low, the giddy and the ferious, have fought to
gain, asfoon as they found that relt could be no where clfe procured
for the weary head, or the aching heart. But amidii thofe multitudes
that crowd to religion for relief, how few are entitled to approach
that facred fource of comfort! On what feeble props do their hopes
and pretenfions reft! How much fuperffition mingles with that
J"eligion to which men are driven by diltrefs and fear! — You muft
firif apply to it as the guide of life, before you can have rccourfe to it
as the refuge of forrow. You muft fubmit to its legiflative autho-
rity, and experience its renewing influence, before you can look for
its confolatory effed:. You muft fecure the teftimony of a good con-
fcience, and peace with God through Jefus Chrift ; otherv.'ife, when
the floods fall come, and the rains defend, and the winds blow, the houfe
which you had propofed for your retreat, fhall prove the houfe founded
on the f arid, not on the rack.

i here are two plans, and there are but two, on which any man can
propofe to condu6l himfelf through the dangers and diftrefTes of hu-
man life. The one is the plan of worldly wifdom ; the other, that
of determined adherence to conicience. He who a£ls upon the for-
mer, lays principle afiJe, and truifs his defence to his art and ability.
He avails himfelf cf every advantage v^hich his knowledge of the

world

Religion upan Adverftty. 67

world fiiggefls. He attends to nothing but vvhat he confidcrs as his
interert ; and, unconfined by confcience, purfucs it by every courfe
vvhicn promil'es him fuccefs. This plan, thovigh too often adopted,
will be found, on trial, inefFe(ftual and deceitful. For human ability
is an unequal match for the violent and unforefeen vicilTitudes of the
world. VVhenthefe torrents rife in their might, they fueep away ih
a moment the banks which worldly wifdom had reared for delence,
and overwhelm alike the crafty and th? artlefs. In the mean time,
perfons of this character condwmn themfelves to live a mofl luiquiet
lite. They pafs their days in perpetual anxiety, lillening to every
motion ; ftartled by every alarm \ changing their meafures on every
new occurrence ; and when dillrefs breaks in overall their defences,
they are left under it, hopclefs and difconfolate.

The plan, which, in oppofition to this, religion recommends, as
both more honourable in itfeif, and more eifedlual for fecurity, is, at all
hazards, to do your duty, and to leave the confequences to Gcd. Let
him who would a£l: upon this plan, adopt for the rule of his conduct
that maxim of the Pfalmifls, Irujl in the Lord, and do good*. To
firm integrity, let him join a humble reliance on God Let his ad-
herence to duty encourage his religious truft. Let his religious trud
infpire him with fortitude in the performance of his duty. Let him
kns)vv no path but the ftraight and dired one. In the molt critical
mcments of adion, let him aflc no further queflions, than, What is
the right, th« fit, the worthy part ? How, as a rrsan, and as a
Chriltian, it becomes him to acl r Having received the decifion of
confcience, let him commit his way unto the Lord. Let him, with-
out trepidation or wavering, proceed in difcharging his duty ; refol-
ved, that though the world may make him unfortunate, it iTiall ne-
ver make himbafe; and confiding, that in what God and his con-
fcience require him to ad or fufFer, God and a good confcience will
fupport him. — Such principles as thefc, arc the beft preparation for
the viciffitudes of the human lot. They are the fhield of inward peace.
He who thinks and ads thus, fhall be expofed to no wounds but what
reli. ion can cure. He may feel the blows of adverfity \ but he fhall
not know the wounds of the heart.

SERMON
* Pfalm xxxvii. 3^

( 68 )

SERMON III.

On the Influence of Religion upon Prosperity.

Psalm i. 3.

He/hall he Uhe a tree planted hy the rivers efzvater, that Iringeth forth his
jruit in his feajon ; his Icuf alj'o jhall not wither, and whatjoever he doth
jhall projper.

THE happy influence of religion upon human life, in the time of
adverfit)', has been conluiered in the preceding difcourfe. Con-
cerning this the fentiments of men are more generally agreed, than
with refpecl to fome other prerogatives which religion claims. They
very readilv alTign to it the ofiice of a Comforter. But as long as their
Hate is profperous, they are apt to account it an unneceflary guelt, per-
haps an imwclcome intruder. Let us not be thus unjuft to religion,
nor confine its importance to one period only in the life of man. It
was never intended to be merely the nurfe of ficknefs, and the liaff of
old age. I purpofe now to Ihew you, that it is no lefs efTential to
the. enjoyment of profpcrity, than to the comfort i f adverfity ; that
profperity is profperou^, if we may be allowed the exprefTion to a good
man only ; and that to every other perfon, it will prove, notwith-
Itanding its fair appearance, a barren and joyl^^fs ffate.

The Pfalmift, in the Text, by an image taken from one of the mofl
beautiful objedls in nature, defcribes a man who flourifhcs in full prof-
perity. But to whom is the difcription limited ? To him, as the pre-
ceding verfes inform us, that walketh not in the council of the ungodlyt
norjhindelh in the way of finners, nor fitteth in the feat ofihefcornful, but
hath his delight in the lazv of God. He only is like the tree planted by the
rivers ofzvatcr; whilji the ungodly, zs he zMs, are not fo \ but how
profperous Ibever they may appear to the world, arc, in truth, but like
the chaff zvhich the zviud driveth away. In confirmation of this doc-
trine, I ihall lay before you fome of thofe circumlfances which diflin-
guitli the profperity of the good man beyond that of the hnner ; and
Jhall conclude, with pointing out the dangers and miferies into which
the latter is apt to be betrayed by his favourable filualion in the world.

I. Piety,

On the hifuetice of Religion upon ProfpetUy. 69

I. Piety, and gratitude to God, contribute in a high degree to en-
liven profperity. Gratitude is a pleafing emotion. The fcnfc of be-
ing diftinguifhed by the kindnefs of another, gladdens the heart,
•warms it with reciprocal affedion, and gives to any poilr.ffion, which
is agreeable in itfeif, a double relifh, from its being the gilt of a friend.
Favours conferred by men, I acknowledge, rmay prove burdenfome.
For human virtue is never perfedl ^ and fometimes unreafonable ex-
pectations on the one fide, fometimes a mortifying fcnfe of depen-
dence on the other, corrode in fecret the pleafure of benefits, and con-
vert the obligations ot friendfliip into grounds of jealoufy. But no-
thing of this kind can afFtCl the intercourfe of gratitude with heaven,
its favours are wholly difinterelled; and with a gratitude the moft
cordial and unfufpicious, a good man looks up to that Ahnighty Bc-
nefadlor, who aims at no end but the happlnefs of thofe whom he
blelTes, and who defires no return from them but a devout and thank-
ful heart. While others can trace their profperity to no higher fource
than a concurrence of worldly caufes, and, often, of mean or trifling
incidents, which occafionolly favoured their defigns; with' what fupe-
riour fatisfadion does the fervant of God remark the hand of that
gracious Power which' hath railed him up, which hath happily con-
duiled him through the various fleps of life, and crowned him with
the moil favourable diltinClion beyond his equals ?

Let us farther confidcr, that not only gratitude for the paft, but a
cheering fenfe oi God's favour at the prefent, enter into the pious
emotion. They are only the virtuous, who in their profpeious days
hear this voice addrefled to them. Go thy way, eat thy bread iv'ith joy^
and drink thy wine with a merry heart ; for God now accepteth thy
worki*. He' who is the Author of their profperity, gives them a
title to enjoy, with complacency, his own gift. While bad men
fnatch the pleafurcs of the world as by ftealth, without countenance
from God the proprietor of the world ; the righteous fit openly down
to the feaft of life, under the fmile of approving heaven. No gudty
fears damp their joys. The bleflmg of God refts upon all that they
polfefs ; his protcdion fiurounds them ; and hence, in the habitations
of the righteous, is found the voice of rejoicing and falyation. A liiflrc
unknown to others, inverts, in their fight, the whole face of nature.
I'heir piety refieds a funlhine from heaven upon the profperity of
the world ; unites in one point of view, Oie fmiling afped, both ot
the powers above, and of the objcds below. Not only have they

as

'J9 On the Influence of

as full a relifh as others, of the innocent pleafnres of life, but, moreoi'cr,
ill thefe they hokl comnmniun with God. In all that is good or fair,
they trace his hand. From the heauties of nature, irom the im-
provements of art, from the enjoyments of focial life, they raife their
afFeftion to the fource of all the happinefs which furrounds them \
and thus widen the fphere of their pkafures, by adding intelicdlual,
and fpiritual, to earthly joys.

For illuftration of what I have faid on this head, remark that cheer-
ful enjoyment of a profperous ftate which King David had, when he
■wrote the twenty- thir<i Pfahn \ and compare the highelt plealnres of
the riotous iinner, with the happy and {atisfied fpirit which breathes
throughout that Pfalm, — In the midit of the (plendour ot royalty,
"wiih what amiable limplicity of gratitude dots he look up to the
Lord a§ his Shepherd \ happier in afcribing all his fuccefs to divine
favour, than to the policy of his councils, or to the force of his arms !
How many inflances of divine goodnefs arofe before him, in pleafing^
remembrance, when with fuch reli(h he fpeaks of xhe green pajiures
andjiill waters hjide which God had led him ; of his cup which he hath
made to overflow ; and of the table which he hath prepared for him in pre-
fence of his etzemies ! With what perfe6l tranquillity does he look for-
ward to the tiine of his [)affing through the valley of the Jhadow of deuih !
unappalled by that fpeclre, whofe moft dillant appearance blafts the
profpcrity of fuiners ! He fears no evil, as long as the rod and thefirff
of his Divine Shepherd are with him ; and, through all the unknown
periods of this and of future exiltence, commits himfelf to his guid-
ance, with fecure and triumphant hope. Surely goodnefs and mercy
thallfdlow me all the days of my life ; and I will dwell in the houfe of the
Lord for ever. — What a purified, fentimental enjoyment of profperity
is here exhibited! How different from the grofs relifh of worldly
pleafures, which belongs to thofe who behold only the terreftrial fide
of things; who raife their views to no higher obje£ls than the fuc-
ccfTion of human contingencies, and the weak efforts of human abi-
lity ; who have no prote£lor or patron in the heavens, to enliven their
profperity, or to warm their hearts with gratitude and truff.

II. Religion affords to good men peculiar fecurity In the enjoy-
ment of their profperity. C^ne of the firff reflexions which muft
ftiike every thinking man, after his fituation in the" world has be-
come agreeable, is, that the continuance of fuch a fituation is mofl
uncertain. From a variety of caufes, he lies open to change. On
many fides he fees that he may be pierced ; and the wider his com-
forts

Religion upon Pr'^fperlty. yi

forts extend, the broader is the mark which he fpreads to the ar-
rows of misfortune. Hence many a fecret alarm to the reflefting
mind ;■ and to thofe who rejeil all fuch alarms, the real danger in-
creafes, in proportion lo their improvident fccuriry.

By worldly ailiftance it is vain to think of providing any effe£liial
defence, feeing the woild's mutability is the very caufe of onr terrour.
It is from a hit^her principle, from a power fuperiour to the world,
that relief mnll be foii>;ht, amidlT; fuch difquietudcs of the heart.
He who in his profperity can look up to One who is witnefs to his
moderation, humanity, and charity ; he who can appeal to Heaven,
that he has not been elated by pride, nor overcome by pleafnre, but
has lludied to employ its gifts to the honour of the Giver ; this man,
if there be anv truth in religion, if there be any benignity or good-
nefs in the adminiftration of the univerfe, has ju(l caufe for encou-
ragement and hope. Not that an intereft in the Divine grace will
perpetuate to a good man, more than to others, a life of unrufiled
profperity. Change and alteration form the very eflence of the world.
But let the world change aroun 1 him at pleafure, he has ground to
hope that it (Ii.il! not be able to make him unhappy. Whatever may
vary, God-s providence is fiill the fame ; and his love to the righ-
teous remains unaltered. If it fliall be the Divine will to remove
one comfort, he trulls that fome other fnall be given. Whatever is
given, whatever is taken away, he confides t|iat, in the lad refult, ali
Jfiiill werk for his good.

Hence he is not difturbed, like had men, by the inflability of the
world. Dangers, v/hich overcome others, fhake not his more (load/
mind. He enjoys the plealures of life pure and unallayed, becaufe he
enjoys them, as long as they laf^, without anxious terrours. ' They are
not his all, his only good. He welcomes them when they arrive ;
and when they pafs away, he can eye them, aS they depart, without
agony or dcfpair. His profperity flrikcs a deeper and firmer root than
that of the ungodly. And for this reafon he is compared, in the Text,
to a tree planted by the rivers of ivuter ; a tree, whofe branches the tem-
pelt may indeed bend, but whofe roots it tannot touch ; a tree, which
may occafionally be; ftripped of its leaves and bloiToms but which frill
maintains its place, and in due feafon flourilhes anew. Whereas the
fniner in his profperity, according to the allufion in the book of Job,
refembles the rufo that grovceth up hi the viirc* ; a flendc-r reed, that may
fiourifh green for a while by the fide of tlie brook, as long ns it is che-
rilhcd by the fun, and fanned l)y the breeze \ till the hril bitter b'.ail:

breaks
Joh viii. II.

^2 On the Infucnce of

breaks its feeble ftem, roots it out from its bed, and lays it in the diifl-
Lo! fiich is the profperity oi them that forget God ; and thus their hope
fjall periJJ}.

III. Religion forms good men to the moft proper temper for
the enjoyment of profperity. A little refleilion may latisfy us, that
mere poBefiioi^ even granting it to be fecurc, does not conftitnte enjoy-
ment. Give a man a!! tjhat is in the power of the world to the bellow ;
furround him with riches ; crown him with honours ; invefl him,
\i you will, with abfolute dominion ; but leave him at the fame time
under fome ferret oppreilijn or hcavinefs of heart ; you beftow indeed
the materials of enjoyment, but you deprive him of ability to extraft it.
You fet a feaft before him, but he wants the power of tafting it.
Hence profperity is fo often an equivocal word, denoting merely afflu-
ence of po.Tullion, but unjullly applied to the miferable polfeiror.

We all know the efFeds which any indifpofition of the body, even
though llight, produces on external profperity. Vifit the gayeft and
moft fortunate man on earth, only with lleeplefs nights ; diforder any
ilngle organ of the fenfes ; corrode but one of his fmalleft nerves ;
and you (hall prefently fee all his gaiety vanifn ; and you fhall hear
him complain that he is a miferable creature, and exprefs his envy of
the peafant and the cottager. — And can you believe, that a difeafe in
the foul is lefs fatal to enjoyinent than a difeafe in the animal franse ;
or that a found mind is not as elTential as a found body, to the prof-
perity of man ? — Let us rate fenfual gratifications as high as we pleafe,
\vc fhall be made to feel that the feat of cnjoyrnent is in the foul.
The corrupted temper, and the' guilty palTions of the bad, fruftrate
the eff-e£l of every advantage which the world confers on them.
The worlil may call them men of pleafure ; but of all mcVi they are
the greatefl foes to pleafure. From their eagernefs to grafp, they
flrangle and deftroy it. None but the temperate, the regular, and the
virtuous, know how to enjoy profpciity. They hnv.o to its roi-rt-
forts the manly relilh of a found uncorrnpted mind. They ffop at
the proper point, before enjoyment degenerates into difguft and plea-
liire is converted into pain. They are (trangers to thofe complaints
which flovv Irom fpleen, caprice, and all the fantaftical diflrelTes of a
vitiated mind. While riotous indulgence enervates both the body
and the niind, purity and virtue heighten all the powers of huinaa
fruition. Moderate and fimple plcafures relilh high with the tem-
perate ; in the midit of his I'tuditd refinemer.ts, the voiuptuarv lan-
i;i:iihcs.

Wherever

Religion upan Prof per ity. 73

Wherever guilt mingles with profperity, a certain gloom andhea-
vinefs enter along with it. Vicious intrigues never fail to entangle
and embarrafs thofe who engage in them. But innocence confers
eafe and freedom on the mind ; leaves it open to every picafing icn-
lation ; gives a Hghtnefs to the fpirits, fimilar to the native gaiety of
youth and health ; ill imitated, and ill fupplied, by that forced levity
of the vicious, which arifes not from the health, but from the drun-
kennefs of the mind.

Feeble areall pleafures in which the heart has no part. The felf-
idi gratifications of the bad, are both narrow in their circle, and
Ihort in their duration. But profperity is redoubled to a good man,
by his generous w[q of it. It is reflected back upon him from every
one whom he makes happy. In the intercourfe of domeftic aifec-
tion, in the attachment of friends, the gratitude of dependents, the
elk-em and good will of all who know him, he fees blelTings multipli-
ed round him, on every fide. JVhen the ear heard vie, then it bkJJ'edme ^
and when the eye Jaw me ; it gave witnefs tome : Becaufe I delivered the
poor that cried, the fatherkjs, and him that had none to help him. The
bl^lfing of him that was ready to perijh came upon me, and I caufed the
widow's heart to jing with joy. I was eyes ts the blind, and feet was I to
the lame : I was a father to the poor ; and the caife which I knezv not,
I fcarchcd out*. — Thus, while the righteous_/?(j«r//Z'^//) lih a tree plan-
ted by the rivers ofivaier, he bringeih farth alio his fruit in hisfcafon z
And that fruit, to purfue the allufion of the Text, he brings forth,
not f;r himfelf alone. He flourifhes, not like a tree in fome folitary
defart, which fcatters its bloiVoms to the wind, and communicates
neither fruit nor fhade to any living thing ; but like a tree in the midft
of an inhabited country, which to fomc affords friendly fhelter, to
others, fruit ; which is not only admired by all for its beauty, but bleff-
ed by the traveller for the fliade, and by the hungry for the fuftenance
it hath given.

IV. Religion heightens the profperity of good men, by the
profpeil which it affords them of greater happinefs to come in ano-
ther world. I fhewed, in the foregoing difcourfe, the mighty ef-
fe£t of the hope of Heaven, in relieving the mind under the troubles of
life. And fure, if this hope be able to fupport the falling, it cannot
but improve the flourifliing ftate of man ; if it can difpel the thickeft
gloom of adverfity, it muft needs enliven profperity, by the additional
luftre which it throws upon it. What is prefent, is never fufKcient
K to ^

* Joh xxi-x. IF — 17.

^4 'On the Influence cf

to give us full fatisfafiion. To the prefcnt we mud always join
fome agreeable anticipations of futurity, in order to complete our
pleafure. What an acceflion then muft the profperity of the righteous
man receive, when, borne with a finooih and gentle gale along the
current of life, and looking round on all the bleilings of his (late, he
can confider thefe as no more than an introdudion to higher fcenes which
are hereafter to open ; he can view his prefent life, as only the porch
through which he is to pafs into the palace of biifs; and his prefent
joys, as but a feeble flream, difpenfed for hisoccafional refrefhment,
until he arrive at that river of life, which flows at God's right hand !
— Such prcfpeds purify tl;e naind, at the fame time that they gladden it.
They prevent the good man from fetting too high a value on his pre-
fent polTeflions ; and thereby affirt him in maintaining, amidft the
temptations of worldly pleafure, that comimand of himftlf which io
fo elfential to the wife and temperate enjoyment of profperity.

It is the fate of all liuman pleafures, by continuance, to fade ; of
moif of them, to cloy. Hence, in the mofl profperous flate, there,
are frequent intervals of langour, and even of dejeftion. There are
vacuities in the happiclt life, which it is not in the power of the world
to iill up. What relief fo adapted to thofe vacant or dejedled peri-
ods, as the pleafaig hopes which arife from immortality ? How barreri
and impcrf.cl that profperity, which can have recourfe to no fuch fub-
fidiary comfort, in order to animate the flagnationef vulgar life, anJ,
to ftipply the infufficiency of worldly pleafures !

Worldly profperity declines with declining life. In youth its re-
lifli was brific and poignant. It becomes more fober as life advan-
ces; and flattens as life delcends. Hef who lately overflowed with
cheerful Ipi^rits and high hopes, begins to look back with heavinefs
on the days of former years. He thinks of his old companions who
are gone ; and reviews pad fcenes, more agreeable than any which
are likely to return. The aflivity of purfuit is weakened. The gai-
ety of amufement is fl-d. I'he gratifications of fenfe languifli.
When his accuftomed pleafures, one after another, th.us fleal trca-
cheroiilly away, what can he, who is an utter flranger to religion,
and to the hope of Heaven, ("ubftitute in their place ? — But even in
that droo})ing period, the promifcs and hopes of religion fupport the
fpirits of a good man till the lateft hour. His leaf, it is faid in the
Text, Jhall not wither. It (hall not be in the pov/er of time to blafl
Kis profperity : But old age (hall receive him into a quiet retreat,
where, if lively fenfations fail, gentle pleafures remain to footh him.
That hope of immortality, which forr^eriy improved his other en-.

joynierits.

Religion upon 'Pt'ofperlfy. ^^

jttyments, now in a great meai'ure lupplies their abfence. Its im-
portance rifes, in proportion as its obje6l draws near. He is not
forfaken by the world, but retires from it with dignity ; reviewing
with a calm mind, the part which he has a£led, and trufting to tlie
promife of God for an approaching reward. Such femiments and ex-
pectations fhed a pleafing tranquihty over the old age of the righte-
ous man. They make the evening of his days go down uncloud-
ed ; and allow the ftreaai of life, though fallen low, to run clear to
the lad drop.

Thus I have fhewn, I hope, with full evidence, what material
ingredients religion and a good confcience are in the profperity of
liie. Separated from them, profperity, how fair foever it may feem
to the worKI, is inlipi^i, nay frequently noxious to the poiTeflbr :
United with them, it rifcs into a real blefiing beffowed by God up-
on man. God g'lvcth to a man that is good in his fight, tuifdom, and
knowledge, and joy ; but to thcfinner he givelh fore travail, to gather^
end to heap up, that hemay give to him that is good before Gf.d*.

Allow me now to conclude the fubjedl, with reprefenting to the
prolperous men of the world, thofe crimes and miferies into which
the abule of their condition is likely to betray them, and calling up-
on them to beware of the dangers with which they are threatened.

It is unfortunate for mankind, that thofe fituations which iavour
pleafure, are too generally adver{e to virtue. Virtue requires inter-
ral government and difcipline ; profperity relaxes the mind and in-
flames the paffions. Virtue is fupported by a regard to what is future;
profperity attaches us wholly to what is prefent. The charac^eri-
ftics of virtue, are modefty and humility ; the moft common at-
tendcnts of profperity, are pride and prefumption. One fhould think,
that profperity would prove the ftrongefi: incitement to remember
and to honour that God who beftows it. Yet fuch is the perverfenefs
of human nature, that it proves much oftener the motive to impiety.
The changes of the world call the attention of men to an Invifible
Power. But a train of events proceeding according to their wilTi,
leads them to nothing beyond what they fee. The SupreiTxC Giver
is concealed from view by his own gifts. This inftance of fuccefs
they afcribe to a fortunate concurrence of worldly caufes ; that ac-
quifition, to their own fkill and induHry ; unmindful of Him, who
from the beginning arranged that feries of caufes, and who placed
them in circumllanccs where their induftry could operate with fuccefr.
From forgetting God, they too often proceed to defpife him. AU

that
*Ecc!efil26.

7 6 On the Infiiunce of

that is light or giddy in their minds> is fet in motion by the gale of
profperity. Arrogance and felf-fufficiency are lifted up ; and their
ftate is confidercd, as fecured by their own ftrength. Hence that
p'lde of countenance, through which the wicked, in their profperity, as
David obfervcs, refufe to feek after God. They arc defcribed as (peak-
ing loftily y and fet ting their mouth againjl the Heavens. They take the
timbrel and harp, and rejoice at the found of the organ ; and they fay
unto God, Depart from us, for xve deftre not the knowledge of thy ways.
What is the almighty that we Jhould ferve him ? Or, what proftpould
we have, if we pray unto him ?

They fay unto God, Depart from us. — What an impious voice ! Could
we have believed it poflible, that worldly pleafures (hould fo far in-
toxicate any human heart ? Wretched and infatuated men ! Have
you ever exainincd on what your confidence refts ? — You have faid in
your hearts, Tou fhall never be moved ; you fancy yourfelvcs placed on
a mountain which Jlandeth fir ong. Awake from thofe flattering dreams,
and behold how every thing totters around you ! You ftand on the
edge of a precipice ; and the ground is Aiding away below your feer.
In your health, life, pofleflions, connedions, pleafures, principles of
deftrudion work. The mine advances in fecret, which faps the
foundations, while you revel on the furface. No mighty effort, no
long preparation of events, is needed to overturn your profperity.
By flow degrees it rofe. Long time, much labour, and the concur-
rence ofmanyaflifling caufes, were necefl^ary to rear it up ; but one
flight incident can entirely overthrow it. Sufpicions ar« iutufed in-
to the patron or the prince on whom you depend ; and yo^r difgrace
enfues. Exercife, or amufement, kindles a fever in the veins of
thofe whom you loved ; and you are robbed of your comforts and
hopes. A few grains of fand lodge thcmfelvcs within you; and the
reft of your life is difeafc and mifery. Ten thoufand contingencies
ever float on the current of life, the fmalleft of which, if it meet your
_ frail bark in the pafijng, is fuflicient to dafh it in pieces. — Is this a
place, is this a time, to fwell with fancied fecurity, to riot in unlaw-
lul pleafure, and, by your difregard of moral and religious duties, to
hrave the government of the Almighty ? He hath {lamped every
poffeflion of man with this infcription, Rejoice with trembling.
Throughout every age^ he hath pointed his peculiar difpleafure againft
the confidence of prefumption, and the arrogance of profperity.
He hath pronounced, that whofoever exalteth hitnfelf flyall he abafed.
And fhall neither the admonitions which you receive from the vifible
inconftancy ol the world, nor the declarations of the Divine difplea-
fure ,

Religion upon Projperiij. 77

fure be fufficient to check yo\ir thoiightlefs career ? Know that, by
your impiety you inuhiply the dangers which already threaten yoii
on every lide ; you accelerate the fpeed with which the changes of
the world advance to your deftru£lion. The Almighty touches with
his rod that edifice otduft, on which you (land, and boall of your
ftrcngth; and, at that inftant, it crumbles to nothing.

As men, then, bethink yourlelves of human inftability. As Chri-
ftians, reverence the awful government of God. Infurc your profpe-
rity, by confecrating it to religion and virtue. Be humble in your
elevation ; be moderate in your views ; be fubmiflive to him who hath
railed and diltinguilhcd you. Forget not that on his providence you
are as dependent, and to the obedience of his laws as much bound,
as the meaneft of your fellow-creatures. Difgrace not your Aation,
by that grolTiiefs of fenfuality, that levity of diflipation, or that info-
lence ot rank, which befpeak a little mind. Let the affability of
your behaviour fhow that yon remember the natural equality of men.
Let your moderation in pleafure, your command of paflion, and your
fteady regard to the great duties of life, Ihovv that you polfefs a mind
worthy of your fortune. Eftablifh your charadlcr on the bafis of ef-
teem ; not on the flattery of dependents, or the praife of fycophants,
but on the refpecl of the wife and the good. Let innocence prefide;
over your enjoyments. Let ufcfulnefs and beneficence, not oftenta-
tion and vanity, dircd the train of your purfuits. Let your alms, toge-
ther with your prayers, come up in memorial hef ore God. So iball your
profperity, under the blefling of Heaven, be as the jhining light, which
jhineth more and more unto the perfeSl day. So fhall it referable thofe ce-
leftial fires which glow above, with beneficent, with regular and per-
manent luftre ; and not prove that mirth of fools, which by Solomon
is compared to the cradling of thorns under ap^t, a glittering and fer-
vent blaze, but fpeedily extinc^l.

On the whole, let this be our conclufion, that both in profperity
and in adverfity, religion is the fafcft guide of human life. Con-
cluded by its light, we reap the pleafures, and at the fame time ef-
cape the dangers of a profperous flate. Sheltered under its protec-
tion, we lland the fho^k of adverfity with mofl: intrepidity, and fuf-
fer leaft from the violence of the florm. He that defireth life, and lov-
€th many days that he may fee good, let him hep his tongue from evil, and
his lips from guile. Let him depart from evil and do good. Let himjeek
peace with God, and purjue it. Then, in his adverfity, God flmll hide
him in his pavilion. In his profperity, he fhall ficurifi like a tree plant-
ed by the rivers cf water. The ungodly are not Jo ; hut are like the cha£;

li^ht and vile, which the winddrivetk aivay.

SERMON

( 7^ } .
S E R M O N IV.

;Oa our Imperfed Knowledge of a Future State.

J Cor. xiii. 12.

For now we fee through a glafs, darJcIy. —

H E Apoftle here dcfcribes the imperfedion of our knowled^^e,
with relatip« to Ipiritual and eternal obje(5ls. He employs two
metaphors to reprefent more llrongly the difadvantages under which
we lie : One, that we fee thofe objeds through a glafs, that is, through
the intervention of a medium which obfcures their glory ; the other,
that we fee them in a riddle or enigma, which our tranflators have
rendered by (eeing them darkly: that is, the tiuth in part difcovered,
in part concealed, and placed beyond our comprchenfion.

This defcription, however jult and true, cannot fail to occafioii
fome perplexity to an enquiring mind. For it inay feera ftrange, that
fo much darknefs (hould be left upon thofe celeilial objeds, towards
which we are at the lame time commanded to afpire. We are Gran-
gers in the univerfe of God. Confined to that fpot on which wc
<Iwell. we are permitted to know nothing of what is tranfadina in
the regions abo^e us and around us. By much labour, we acquire
a fuperficial acquaintance with a few fenfible objeds which we find in
ourprefent habitation; but we enter, and we depart, under a total
Ignorance of the nature and laws of the fpiritual world. One fubjed
in pani. ular, when our thoughts proceed in this train, muft often recur
upon the miiui wiih peculiar anxiety; that is, the immortality of the
foul, and the future (fate of man. Expofcd as we are at prefent, to
fuch variety of aitliaions, and fubjeded to fo much difappointmcnt
in all our purfuits of happinefs. Why, ic may be faid, has our graci-
ous Creator denied us the confolation of a full difcovery of our future
cxiftence, if indeed fuch an exillence be prepared for us r— Realbn, it
is true, fuggefts many arguments in behalf of immortality : Revelati-
on gives fuliaiFuraqce of it. Yet even that Golpel, which is faid to
have brought life and immortality to light, allows us \oJce only through 0

^lafs.

On our Impe^rfeSI Knowledge of a Future Slate. 7'9''

ghfs, darkly. It doth not yet appear what we fl)all be. Our know-
ledge of a future world is very imperfe6l ; our ideas of it arc fainl-
and coiifufed. It is not difpluyed in fuch a manner, as to make an
iniprcllion fuited to the importance of tiie objed. The faith even
of the beft men, is much inlerior, both in clearnefs and in force, to the
eviiience of fenfe ; and proves on many occafions infufficient to coun-
terbalance the temptations of the prefent world. Happy momenis
indeed there fometimes are in the lives of pious men, when, fequei-
tered from worldly cares, and borne up on the wings of divine con-
templation, they rile to a near and tranfporting view of immortal glo-
ry. But {uz\\ efforts of the mind are rare, and cannot be longfupportcd.
When the (pirit of meditation fubfides, this lively fenfe of a future ilaie
decays ; and though the general belief of it rem^ain, yet even g-ood
men, when they return to theordinury bufinefs and cares of life.feem to
rejoin the mnltiuide, and to re-adume the fams hopes, and fears,
and interefls, which influence the refi of the world.

From inch refleclions, a confiderab'e difRculty refpe<?ting this im-
portant fubjed, either arifcs, or feems to arife. Was fuch an ob~
iaire and imperfecl difcovery of another life worthy to proceed
from God? Does it iwt afford fonie ground, cither to tax hi<;
goodncfs, or to fufpei^l the evidence of its coming from him ?
— This is the point which we are now to conlider ; and let us cotifider
\i with that clofe attention which the fubjedl merits. Let us cnnuiie
whether we have any rcafon either to complain of Providence, or to
obie<5l to the evidence of a future flate, becaufe tliat evidence
is not of a more fenfible and ftriking nature. Let us attempt
humbly, to trace the reaf jhs, why, though permitted to know
and to fee Comewhat of the eternal world, we arc ncvfrthelefs per-
mitted only to hiQVu hi part, and to fee through a glf^, dntkiy.

It plainly appears to be the plan of the deity, in all his dlfpen'ation'^,
to mix light with darknefs, evidence with uncertainty. Whatever
the reafons of this procedure be, the fad is undeniable. He is defcri-
bed in the Old Teflament as a God that hldcth hhrfef'^. Clouds and
darknefs are faid \o fur round hhru His way is in the fa, end his path
in the vreat zvaters ; his footjleps are not kmicn. Eolh the works and
the ways of God are full of myftery. In the ordinary conrfe of his
government, innumerable events occur which perplex us to the ur-
moft. There is a certain limil to all our enquiries of religion, beyond
ivhich it we attem.pt to proceed, we arelofl in a maze of incxfrica'Die
di-ihculties. Even that revelation which affords fuch materia! Inllru^^l-
* //"j. xlv. 15. on

j,^o On our hnperfcB Knowledge

on to man, concerning his duty and his happinefs, leaves many
doubts unrefolved. Why it was not given fooner; why not to all
men ; why there (hould be fo many things in it hard to be underjlood,
are difficuhies not inconfiderable, in the midft of that incontcitibie '
evidence by which it is fupportcd. If, then, the future date of man
be not placed in fo full and clear a light as we defire, this is no more
than what the analogy of all religion, both natural and revealed, gave
us reafon to expe6l.

Butfuch a folution of the difficulty will be thought imperfe£l. It
may, perhaps, not give much latisfadion, to fhsw, that all religion
abounds with difficulties of a like nature. Our fituation, it will be
faid, is fo much the more to be lamented, that not on one fide only
we are confined in our enquiries, but on all hands environed with my-
flerious obfcurity. — Let us then, if fo much dilfatisfied with our con- '
dition, give fcope for once to Fancy, and conHder how the plan of
Providence might be reilified to our wilTi. Let us call upon the .
Sceptick, and defire him to fay, what meafure of information would
afford him entire fatisfadion.

This, he will tell us, requires not any long or deep deliberation.
He defircs only to have his view enlarged bcyo.id the limits of this
corporeal fiaie. Inflead of refting upon evidence which requires dif-
cufiion, which muff l>e fupported by much reafoning, and which, af-
ter all, he alleges yields very imperfeft information, he demands the
cverlafl'ing manfions tobelo difplayed, if in truth fuch mandons there
be, as to place faith on a level with the evidence of feiife. What no-
ble and happy cfFedls, he exclaims, would inftsnily follow, if man
thus beheld his prefent and his future exigence at once before him ! He
would then becoiTie worthy of his rank in the creation. Inflead of
being the fport, as now of degrading paffions and childifli attach-
ments, he would a£f folely on the principles of immortality. Mis
purfuit of virtue would be flcady ; his life would be undiflurbed and
happy. Supcriour to the attacks of diflrefs, and to the folicitations of
pleafure, he would advance, by a regular procefs, towards thofe divine
rewards and honours which were continually frefent to his view. —
Thus Fancy, with as much eafe and confidence as if it were a per-
tc6l judge of creation, ercds a new world to itfelf, and exults with
:;dmiration of its own work. But let us paufe, and fufpend this ad-
minition, till we coolly examine th«; confequences that would follow^ /
i:om this fuppofed reformation of the univerfe.

Consider the nature and circumflances of man. Introduced in-
to the world in an indigent condition, he is fuppofted at firfi by

the

of a Future State. 8 \

the care of others ; and, as loon as he begins to a£l for himfelf, finds
labour and induftry to be necelTary for I'liltaining his life, and (up-
piying his wants. Mutual defence and intereft give rife to fociety ;
and fociety, when tormed, requires diftindlions of property, diverfity
of conditions, fubordination of ranks, and a multipHcity of occupa-
tions, in order to advance the genera! good. The fervices of the poor,
and the protedion of the rich, become reciprocally necelTary. The
governours, and the governed, mull co-operate for general fafety. Va-
lious arts muii be ftudied ; fome refpe6ling the cultivation ot the
mind, others the care ot the budy ; iome to v/ard off the evils, and
fome to provide the conveniencies of life. In a word, by the deRina-
tion of his Creator, and the neceflities of his nature, man commen-
ces, at once, an active, not merely a contemplative being. Religion
aliumcs him as fuch. It fuppofes him'employed in this world, as o\\
a bufy itage. It regulates, but does not abolifh, the enterprifes and
cures of ordinary hfe. It addrelfcs itfelf to the various ranks in foci-
ety to the rich and the poor, to the magiflrate and the fubje6l. It
rebukes the flothful ; directs the diligent how to labour \ and re-
quires every man to do his ozvn bufmejs.

Suppofe, now, that veil to be withdravvn which conceals another
world from our viev/. Let all obfcurity vanifli ; let us no longery^^f
darkly, as through ag/afs ; but let every man enjoy that intuitive pre-
ception of divine and eternal obje6ls which the Sceptick was fuppo-
{cd to dedre. The immediate effetSl of fuch a difcovery would be,
to annihilate in our eye all human objefls, and to produce a total
fiagnation in the affairs of the world. Were the celeftial glory ex-
pofed to our admiring view ; did the angelic harmony found in our
enraptured ears ^ what earthly concerns could have the power of en-
gaging our attention for a fuigle moment ? All the fludies and pur-
fuits, the arts and labours, which now employ the a^^ivity of m.an,
which fupport the order, or promote the happinefs of fociety, would
lie negledled and abandoned. Thofe defires and fears, thofe hopes
, and interefls, by which we are at prefent ftimulated, would ceafe to
operate. Human life would prefent no objeds fufficient to roufe the
mind, to kindle the fpirit ot enterprife, or to urge the hand of in-
duftry. If the mere fenfc of duty engaged a good man to take fome
part in the bufinefs of the world, the tafk, when fubmittcd to, would
prove diftafteful. Even the prefcrvation of life would be flighted, if
he were not bound to it by the authority of God. Impatient of his
confinement within this tabernacle of duft, languifhing for the hap-

py

L

^2 On our ImperfcB Knrdjhc^ge

py day of Ills trandation to thofc glorious regions which were difplay-
ed to his fight, he would fojourn on earth as a melancholy exile.
Whatever Providence has prepared for the entertainment trt man,
would be viewed with contempt. Whatever is now attrailive in fo-
cietv, would appear infipld. In a word, he would be no longer a fit
inhabitant of this world, nor be qualified for thofe exertions which are
allotted to him in his prefent fphere of being. But, all his faculties
bein'^ fiiblimated above the meafiire of humanity, he would be in the
condition of a being of fuperl our order, who, obliged to refide among
men, would regard their purfults with fcorn, as dreams, trifles, and
puerile amufements of a day.

But to this rcafoaing it may perhaps be replied. That fuch confe-
quenccs as I have now ftated, fuppofing them to follow, deferve not
inuch regard. — For what though the prefent arrangement of human
p.frairs were entirely changed, by a clearer view, and a ftronger im-
preffion of our future ffate ; would not fuch a change prove the
highefl: bleffing to man ? Is not his attachment to worldly objedls the
great fource both of his mifery and his guilt r Employed in perpetu-
al contemplation of heavenly ohje£fs, and in preparation for the en-
joyment of them, would he not become more virtuous, and of courfe
more happy, than the nature of his prefent employments and attach-
ments permits him to be r — Allowing lor a moment, the confequence
to be fuch, this much is yielded, that, upon the fuppofition which W'as
made, man would not be the creature which he now is, nor human
life the ftate which we now behold. How far the change would
contribute to his welfare, comes lobe confidered.

If there be any principle fully afcertained by religion, it is, That
tliis life was intended for a flate of trial and improvement to man.
His preparation for a better world required a gradual purification, car-
ried v\\ by ikps of progreffive difcipline. The fituatlon, therefore,
l)ere aiTigned him, was fuch as to anfwer this defign, by callius forth
all his adlve powers, by giving full fcope to his moral difpofuions,
and bringing to hght his whole charader. Hence it became pro-
per, that diiliculty and temptation fliould arife in the courfe of his du-
ty. Ample rewards were promifed to virtue ; but thefe rewards were
ieft,asyet, inobfcurityanddhfant profpe£l. The imprelTionsof fenfe-
were fo balanced againft the difcoverles of immortality, as to allow a
conflift bttween faith and fenfe, between confcience and defire, be-
tween prefent plealure and future good. In this conflict, the fouls
of ^(K)d men are tried, improved, and ftrengthcned. In this field,
their honours are reaped. Here are formed the capital virtues of for-
titude,

af a Future State. 83

titude, temperance, and felf-denial ; moderation in pvofpcrity, pati-
ence in adverfity, fnbmiflion to the will ot God, and cliarity and for-
givnefs to men, amidd the various competitions ot wovldly intered.

Such is the plan of Divine v/ifdoni tor man's improvement. VivX
put the cafe, that the plan devifed by human wifdom were to take
place, and that the rewards of the jull were to be more fully dilplay-
ed to view \ the exercite of all thofe graces which I have mentioned,
Avould be entirely fuperfedcd. Their very names would be unknown,^
Every temptation being withdrawn, every worldly attachment being
fubuued by the overpovverin,'^ difcoveries of eternity, no trial of lince-
rity, no difcrimination of characters, would remain ; no opportunity
would be afforded for thofe a6live exertions, which are the means ot
purifying and perfe£ling the good. On the competition between time
and eternity, depends the chief exeicife of hinnan virtue. The ob-
Icurity which at prefcnt hangs over eternal objects, preferves the
competition. Remove that cbfcurity, and you remove human vir-
tue from its place. You overthrow that whole lyftem of difcipline,
by which imperfedl creatures are, in this life, gradually trained up iox
a more perfe£l Rate,

This, then, is the concluflon to which at lafl; we arrive : That
the full difplay which was demanded, of the lieavenly glory, would
be {a far from improving the human foul, that it would abolilh thofe
virtues and duties which are the great inftruments of its improvement.
It would be imfuitable to the charafter of man in every view, either
as an adive being, or a moral agent. It would difqualify him lor
taking part in the atfairs of the world ; for relifliing the pleafures, or
lor difcharging the duties of life : In a word, it would entirely defeat
the purpofe of his being placed on this earth. And the quefiion, Why
the Almighty has been pleafed to leave a fpiritual world, and the fu-
ture exiilence of man, imder {o much obfcurity, rcfolves in the end
into this, Why there fhould be fuch a creature as man in the uni-
verfe of God ? — Such is the iilue of the improvements propofed to be
made on the plans ot Providence. They add to the difcoveries of
the fuperiour wifdom of God, and of the prefumption and folly of man.

From v/hat has been faid it now appears, That no rcafonable ob-
jedion to the belief of a future ftate arifes, from the imperfect difco-
veries of it which we enjoy ; from the difficulties that are mingled
W'ith its evidence ; from oux feeing as through aglafs, darhJy, and hz-
ing\th\Q zvalh b) faith and not by fight. It cannot be otherwife, it
ou^ht not to be otherwife in our prefent fiate. The evidence which

is

84 On our Imperfect Knoivledge

is afforded, is fufficlent for the convidion of a candid mind, fufficient
for a rational ground of conduct ; though not fo (triking as to with-
draw our attention from the prefent world, or altogether to over-
come the imprel-Hon of fenfible objedts. In fuch evidence it becomes us
to acqniefce, without indulging qither doubts or complaints, on account
ot our not receiving all the fatisfadlion which we fondly defire, but
wliicii our prefent immaturity of being excludes. For, upon the
fuppofnion uf immortality, this life is no other than the childhood of
exiltence ; and the meafures of our knowledge mu ft be proporti-
oned to fuch a ftate. To the fuccelfive ftages of human life, from
infancy to old age, belong certain peculiar attachments, certain cares,
defires, and interelts; which open not abruptly, but by gradual ad-
vances on the mind, as it becomes fit to receive them, and is pre-
pared for ading the part to which, in their order, they pertain.
~Hence, in the education of a child, no one thinks of infpiring him
all at once with the knowledge, the fentiments, and views of a man,
and with contempt for the exercifes and amiifements of childhood.
On the contrary, employments fuited to his age are allowed to occupy
him. By thefe his powers are grailually unfolded ; and advantage is
taken of his youthful purfuits, to improve and ftrengthen his mind ; till,
ilep by Hep, he is led on to higher profpeds, and prepared for a larger
and more important fcene of ailion.

This analogy, which fo happily illuftrates the prefent condu6l of
the Deity, towards man, deibrves attention the more, as it is the
very illuftration ufed by the Apoftle, when treating of tins fubjed in
the context. Now, fays he, wc know in part — but ivhen that which is
■perfect is come, that zuhich is in part jhall he done azuay. hVhcn I ivas
a child, I Jpoke as a child, 1 underjiood as a child, I thought as a child ;
but when I became a man, I put away childijh things. For now zve fee
through a glafs, darkly : but then, face to face : Nozu J know in part ;
hut then IJhall.knozv even as I am known. Under the care of the
Almighty, our education is now going on, from a mortal to an im-
mortal flate. As much light is let in upon us, as we can bear with-
out injury. When the objects become too fplendid and dazzling for
our fight, the curtain is drawn. Exercifed in fuch a field of adion,
as fuits the (treng^th of our unripened powers, we are, at the fame
time, by proper profpeds and hopes, prompted to afpire towards the
manhood ot our nature,, the time when childifi) things jhall he put azvay.
But (till, betwixt thofe future profpeds, and the impreflion of prefent
objeds, fuch an accurate proportion is cflablinied, as on the one hand
fliall not produce a total contempt of earthly things, while we afpire

to

of a Fuiiire State. %^

to thofe that are heavenly ; and on the other, fhall not encourage
fuch a degree of attachment to our prefent (late, as would render
us unworthy of future advancement. In a vvord, the whole courfe of
things is (o ordered, that wc neither, by an irregular and precipitate
education, become men too foon ; nor by a fond and triliing indul-
gence, be fullered to- continue children for ever.

Let thefe refleiTlions not only remove the doubts which m.ay arife
from our obfcure 'knowledge ot immortality, but likewife produce
the higheft admiration of the wifdom of our Creator. The ftrucSture
of the natural world affords innumerable inHances of profound defign,
which no attentive fpe6tator can furvey without wonder. In the
rnoral world, where the workmanlhip is of much finer and more
delicate contexture, fubje6ts of flill greater admiration open to viev^'.
But admiration mull rife to its highefl: point, when thofe parts of the
moral conflitution, which at firlt were reputed blemifhes, which car-
ried the appearance of obje6lions, either to the wifdom or the good-
nefs of Providence, are difcovered, on more accurate infpcflion, to be
adjurted with the moft exquifite propriety. We have now fecn that
the darknefs of man's condition is no lefs efTential to his well-being,
than the light which he enjoys. His internal powers, and his exter-
nal lituation, appear to be exa6lly fitted to each other. Thofe com-
plaints which we are apt to make, of our limited capacity and nar-
row views, of our inability to penetrate farther into the future defti-
nation of man, are found, from the foregoing obfervations, to be jufl as
unreafonable, as the childilh complaints ot our not being formed with
a microfcopic eye, nor furnifhed with an eagle's wing ; that is, of not
being endowed with powers which would fubvert the nature, and
counteract the laws, of our prefent ftate.

In order to do juftice to the fubje^Sl, I muft obferve, that the fame
reafoning which has been now employed with refpedl to our know-
ledge of immortality, is equally applicable to many other branches of
intellc6lual knowledge. Thus, why we are permitted to know fo lit-
tle of the nature ot that Eternal Being who rules the univerfe ; why
the manner in which he operates on the natural and moral world, is
wholly concealed; why we are kept in fuch ignorance, with reipectto
the extent of his works, to the niture and agency of fpi ritual being.s,
and even with refpe6l: to the union between our own foul an:l body :
To all thefe, and feveral other enquiries of the fame kind, which of-
ten employ the felicitous refearclies of fpcculative men, tlic aiifwer ;s
the fame that was givtn to tlie iiitercfting qucRion wliich makes thr

ftibjcdl

S5 On our Imperfeof Knowledge

fiibjeifl of our difcourfe. The degree of knowledge defired, would
prove incoinpaiible with the defign and with the proper bufinersof
this hfe. It would raife us to a fphere too exalted ; would reveal
objedls too great and ftriking for our prefent facunies ; would ex-
cite feelings too ftrong for us to bear ; in a word, would unfit us for
thinkiu'^f or adtiu'' like human creatures. It is therefore referved for a
more advanced period of our nature; and the hand of Infinite wif-
dom hath in mercy drawn a veil over Icenes which would overpower
the fight of mortals'.

One inflance, in particular, of Divine wifdom, is fo illuftrious, and
correfponds fo remarkably with our prefent fubjedt, that I cannot
pafs it over without notice \ that is, the concealment under which
Providence has placed tiie future events of our life on earth. The
delire of penetrating into this unknown region, has ever been one of
the moll anxious paflions of men. It has often feized the wife as
v/eil as thj credulous, and given rife to many vain and impious fuper-
liitions throughout the whole earth. Burning with curiofity at the
approach of fome critical event, and impatient under the perplexity
of conjedlure and doubt, How cruel is Providence, we are apt to
exclaiiri, in denying to man the power of forefight, and in limit-
ing him to the knowledge of the prefent moment ! Were he permit-
ted to lo )k forward into the courfe of defliny, how much more fuita-
bly would he be prepared for the various turns and changes in his life I
With what moderation would he enjoy his profperily under fhe U>xt-
knowledge f)f an approaching reverfe ! And with what eagernefs be
prompted to improve the flying hours, by feeing the inevitable term
draw niy.h which was to finilh his courfe !

But while Fancy indulges fuch vain defires and criminal complaints,
tills coveted foreknowledge muff clearly appear to the eye of Re'afon,
to be the moil fata! gift which the Almighty could beffow. If, in
litis prefent mixed Rate, all tlie fucceflive fcenes of diftrefs through
which we arc to pafs, were laid before us in one view, perpeti;al
ladnefs would overcaft our life. Hardly would any tranfient gleams
of intervening joy be able to force their way through the cloud. Faint
woidd be the relilh of pleafures of which we forefaw the clofe : In-
fupportable the burden of afdiclions, under which we were opprelled
by a load not only of prefent, but of anticipated forrow. Friends
would begin their union, with lamenting the day which was to dif-
folve it ; and, with weeping eye, the parent would every moment
behold the child whom he knew that he was to lofe. In fhort, as foon
as that myflerious veil, v/hich now covers futurity, was lifted up, all

the

of a Future Stale.. 2f

the gaiety of life would difappear, its flattering hopes, itspleafing i!-
lufions, would vaniih ; and nothing but its vanity and fadnefs retnain.
Tlie foreiight of the hour of death would continually interrupt the
courfe ot human affairs i and the overwhelming profpefl; of the fu-
ture, inftead of exciting men to proper a6livity, would render them

immovable with conller-nation and difmay. Hnw much more

friendly to man is that mixture of knowledge and ignorance which
is allotted fiim in this flate. Ignorant of the events which are tobe-
fal us, and of tlie precife term which is to conclude our life, by this
ignorance our enjoyment of prefent objefts is favoured; and know-
ing that death is certain, and that human affairs are full of change, by
this knowledge our attachment to thofe objects is moderated. Precifely
in the fame manner, as, by the mixture of evidence and obfcurity
which remains on the profpedl of a future flate, a proper balance is
preferved betwixt our love of this life, and cur defire of a better.

The longer that our thoughts dwell on this fubjeil, the more we
muft be convinced, that in nothing the Divine wifdom is more admi-
rable, than in proportioning knowledge to the neceflities of man.
Inltead of lamenting our condition, that we are permitted onlv to
fee as ibrcugb a glafs, darkly, we have reafon to blefs our Creator, no
lefs for what he hath concealed, than for what he hath allowed us to
know. He is wonderful in council, as he is cxceUent in xvorhing. He
is wfe in heart, and his thoughts are deep. Hozv unfearchalle are the
riches of the vjifdom of the knowledge of God.

From the whole \'iew which we have taken of the fubjecl:, this
itmportant inflrudlion arifes. That the great defign of all the know-
ledge, and in particular of the religious knowledge which God hath af-
forded us, is, to fit us for difcharging the duties of life. No ufelefs
difcoveries are made to us in religion: No difcoveries even of ufe-
ful truths, beyond the precife degree of information, which is fubfer-
vient to right condudl. To this great end all our information points.
In this centre all the lines of knowledge meet. Life and immortality
are brought to light in the go f pel ; yet not fo difplayed as to gratify the
<:urio(lfy of the world with an aflonifhing fpeitacle ; but onlyrfo far
made known, as to aflift and fupport us in the practice of our duty.
If the difcovery were more imperfcd, it would excite no defire of irn-
mortalitv ; if it were more full and flriking, it would render us care-
Icfs of life. On the firft fuppofition, no fuflicient motive to virtue
would appear; on the fecond, no proper trial of it would remain.
In the one cafe, we fhould t!>ink and aft like men who have their
j'jrtim only in this world \ in the other cafe, like men who have no
concern with this woild at ail. Whereas now, by the wife condi-

lutio.i

SS On our Impsrfecl Knowledge

turion of Heaven, we are placed in the moft favourable fituation for
aaing, with propriety, our allotted part here ; and forrifuig, in due
courfc^, to higher honour and happinefs hereafter.

Let us then kcond the kind intentions of Providence, and aft
upon the plan which it hath pointed out. Checking our inquifitive
fohcitude about what the Almighty hath concealed, let us diligently
improve what he hath made known. Inhabitants of the earth, we
are at the fame time candidates for Heaven. Looking upon thefe as
only different views of one conlirtent charafter, let us carry on our
preparation for Heaven, not by abllrading ourfelves from the con-
cerns of this world, but by fulfilling the dudes and offices of every Na-
tion mhfe. Living/./.m'>-, rlghievj/Iy, and godly in the prejent xvorld
let us loohfor that bhfcd hope, and the glorious appearing of the great
God, and our Saviour Jefus Chriji.

Before I conclude, it may be proper, to obferve, That the reafon-
mgs m this difcourfe give no ground to apprehend any danger of our
bemg too much influenced by the belief of a future {late. I have
fhewn the hurtfal efFcds which wohid follow from too bright and
full a dilcovery of the glory of that ftate ; and in fhowing this^I have
jiiflified the decree of Providence, which permits no fuch difcoverv.
^ut as our nature is at prefent conRituted, attached by fo many ftrona
conneftions to the world of fen fe, and enjoying a communication fo
feeble and diftant with the world of fpirits, we need fear no danger
from caltivating intercourfe with the latter as much as pofTible. On
the contrary, from that intercourfe the chief fecurity of our virtue
IS to be fought. The bias of our nature leans fo much towards
feufe, that from this fide the peril is to be dreaded, and on this fide
the defence is to be provided;

Let us then ivalk by faith. Let us firengthen this principle of ac-
tion to the utmoft of our power. Let us implore the Divine grace
toftrengthen it within us more and more: That we may thence de-
rive an antidote againft that Aibtile poifon, which inceffant commerce
with the objeas of fenfe diffufes through our fouls ; that we may
hence acquire purity and dignity of manners fuited to our divine
hop^s ; and, undefiled by the pleafures of the world, unfhaken by its
terrours, may prefervc to the end one conftant tenor of integrity
Till at laft, having under the condud of Chriaian faith, happdy fi.
niflaed the period of difcipline, we enter on that ftate, where a far no-
bier fcene fiiall open ; where eternal objedls fhall fliine in their native
fplendour; where, this twilight of mortal life being paft, xht Sun of
rtghteoufnef fliall rife ; and that tvhich is perfect being come, that which
is in part/hall be done away.

SERMON

( ^9 }

SERMON V.

On the Death of Christ.
Pxeachedat the Celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper.

John, xvil. i.

Jejus lift up his eyes to heaven, andjaid, Father ! the hour is come.-^

*HESE were the words of our bleflTed Lord on a memorable oc-
cafion. The feall ot the paifover drew nigh, at which he knew
that he was to fuffer. The night was arrived wherein he was to be
delivered into the hands of his enemies. He had fpent the eveninjjj
in conference with his difciples ; like a dying father in the midft of
his family, mingUng confolations with his laft inftrudions. When
he had ended his difcourfe to them, he lifted up his eyes to heaven^
and, with the words which I have now read, began that folemu
prayer of interceflion for the church, which doled his miniftry. Im-
mediately after, he went forth with his difciples into the garden of
Gethfemane, and furrendered himfelf to thofe who came to appre-
hend him.

Such v\as the fituatlon of our Lord at the time of his pronouncing
thcfe words. He faw his milhon on the point of being accomplifh-
ed. He had the profpeil full before him, of all that he was about

to fufter Father! the hour is come. — What hour? An hour the

mofl: critical, the moft pregnant with great events, fince hours had
begun to be numbered, fince time had begun to run. It was the
hour in which the Son of God was to terminate the labours of his
important life, by a death ftill more important and illuftrious ; the
hour of atoning, by his fufferings, for the guilt of mankind ; the hour
of accomplifliing prophecies, types, and fymbols, which had been car-
ried on through a feries ot ages ^ the hour ol concluding the old, ^nd of
introducing^ to the world the new difpenfation of religion ; the hour
of his tiiumphing over the world, and death and hell j the hour ot

M his

^9 On the Death of Chrljf.

his ere£ling that fpiritual kingdom which is to lafl: for ever. Such is
the hour, I'uch are the events, which you are to commemorate in the
facrament of our Lord's Supper. I fhall attempt to fet them before
you as proper fubjeils, at this time, of your devout meditation. To
dilplay them in their genuine majefty, is beyond the ability of man.

I. 1'his was the hour in which Chrift was glorified by his fuf-
ferings. The whole of his life had difcovered much real grcatnefs,
under a mean appearance. Through the cloud of his humiliation,
his native lultre often broke forth ; but never did it fhine fo bright,
as in thisla(t, this trying hour. It was indeed the hour of diflrefs,
and of blood. He knew it to be fuch ; anrl when he uttered the
words of the Text, he had before his eyes, the executioner and the
crofs, the fcourge, the nails, and the fpear. But by profpedts of this
nature his foul was not to be overcome. It is diftrefs which ennobles
every great chara6lw-r; and diftrefs was to glorify the Son of God.
He was now to teach all mankind, by his example, how to fuffer and
to die. He was to ftand forth before his enemies, as the faithful
witnefs of the truth ; juftifying by his behaviour the charaiter which
healTumed, and feaiing with his blood the doftrine which he taught.

What magnaninmity in all his words and adlions on this great oc-
caHon! The court of Herod, the judj;ment-hall ot Pilate, the hill of
Calvary, were fo many theatres prepared for his difplaying all the virtues
of a condant and patient mind. When led forth to fufFer, the firft voice
which wchear from him, is a generous lamentation over the fate of
his unfortunate, though guilty, country ; and to the lad moment of
his life, we behold him in pofTellion of the fame gentle and benevo-
lent fpirit. No upbraiding, no complaining expreflion efcaped from
his lips, during the long and painful approaches of a cruel death. He
betrayed no fymptom of a weak or a vulgar, of a difcompofed or im-
patient mind. With the utmoft attention of filial tendernefs, he com-
mitted his aged motlier to the care of his beloved difciple *, With
all the dignity of a Sovereign, he conferred pardon on a penitent fel-
low-fufFerer. With a greatnefs of mind beyond example, he fpent
his lart moments in apologies and prayers for thofe who werefhed-
ding his blood.

I. By wonders in heaven, and wonders on earth, was this hour dif-
tinguiOied. All nature feemed to feel it ; and the dead and the living
bore witnefs to its importance. The veil of the temple was rent in

twain.
f See Johrif xix. 26, 27.

On the Death of Chnji. 9t

iwa'in. The earth fliook. There was darknefs over all the land.
The graves vrere opened, and many wh» JJept, aroje and went into the
Holy City. Nor were thefe the only prodigies of this awful hour.
The mod hardened hearts were fubdued and changed. The judge
who, in order to gratify the rnuUitude, pafled fentence againft him,
publickly attefted his innocence. The Roman centurion, who pre-
fided at the execution, glorified God, and acknowledged the fufFerer
to be more than man. After he faw the things which had pa [fed, he f aid
Certainly this was a righteous perfon ; truly, this was the Son of God
The Jewiih malefa£l:or who was crucified with him, addrefled him
as a King, and implored his favour. Even the crowd of infenfible
fpedlators, who had come forth as to a common fpedacle, and who
began with clamours and infults, returned home, fmiting their breafis.
Look back on the heroes, the philofophers, the legiflators of old.
View them in their lad moments. Recall every circumflance which
dillinguilhed their departure from the world. Where can you find
fuch an alFemblage of high virtues, and of great events, as concurred
at the death of Chrift ? Where, fo many teltimonies given to the dig-
nity of the dying perfon, by earth, and by heaven?

II. This was the hour in which Chrid atoned for the fins of
mankind, and accomplifhed our eternal redetnption. It was the
hour when that great facrifice was offered up, the efficacy of which
reaches back to the firft tranfgreffion of man, and extends forward to
the end of time ; the hour when, from the crofs, as from an high
altar, the blood was flowing, which waflied away the guilt of the na-
tions.

This awful difpenfation of the Almighty contains myfteries which
are beyond the difcovery of man. It is one of thofe things into
which the angels deftre to look. What has been revealed to us is. That
the death oi Chrift was the interpofition of Heaven for preventing the
ruin ot human kind. We know, that under the government of
God, mifery is the natural confequcnce of guilt. After rational crea-
tures had, by their criininal conduct, introduced diforder into the Di-
vine kingdom, there was no ground to believe, that by their peni-
tence and prayers alone they could prevent the deftrudion which
threatened them. The prevalence of propitiatory facrifices through-
out the earth, proclaims it to be the general fenfe of mankind, that
mere repentance was not of fufficient avail to expiate fin, or to ftop its
penal cfFeds. Bytheconftant allu{ions which are carried on in tTie
New TcftameHt to the facrifices under the Law, as pre-fignifyinga

great

92 On the Death of Chriji.

^reat atonement made by Chrift ; and by the ftrong exprefiionj
which are ufed in defcribing the efFeds of hit death, the facred writers
fhovv, as plainly a^ language allows, that there was an efficacy in his
fuffjrings, far beyond that of mere exampl? and inflru£tion. Th?
nature and extent of that efficacy we are unable, as yet, fully to trace.
Part we are capable of beholding; and the wifdom of what we be-
hold, we have realon to adore. We difcern in this plan of redemp-
tion, the evil of fin (trongly exhibited; and the juflice of the Divine
governmt:nt awfully exemplified, in Chrifl fufFcruig for finners. But
let us not imagine, that bur prefent difcoveries untold the whole in-
fluence ot the death of Chrift. It is conne£led with caufes into which
we cannot penetrate. It produces confeqiiences foo extenfive for us
to explore. Go(r s thouglffl are not as cur thoughts. In all things we
fee only in pari ; and here, if any where, we fee alfo as through a glafs*
darkly.

This, however, is fully manifeft.that redemption is one of the moft,
glorious works of the Almighty. If the hour of the creation of the
world was grea» and dluffrious ; that hour, when, from the dark and
formlefs mals, this fair fyftem of nature arofe at the Divine command;
when the m-jrningjlars fang together, and all the fons of Gsd fhouted for
joy : no lefs illulhious is the hour of the reftoration of the world,
the hour when, from condemnation and mifery, it emerged into hap-
pinefs and peace. With lefs external majefty it was attended, but is,
on that account, the more wonderful, that under an appearance fo
fimpie, fuch great events were covered.

III. In this hour the long feries of prophecies, vifions, types,
and hg\ires, was accomplifhed. This was the centre in which they
ell met : This the point towards which they had tended and versed,
throughout the courfe of fo many generations. You behold the Lavy
and the Prophets (landing, if we may fpcak fo, at the foot of the crofs,
and doing homage. You behold Mofes and Aaron hearing the ark
of the covenant ; David and Elijah prefenting the oracle of tcftimo-
ny. You behold all the prieds and I'acrifices, all the rights and ordi-
nances, all the types and fymbols, aircmbled together to receive their
confummation. Without the death ofChrift, the woifhip andceremo«
nies of the Law would Jiave remained a pompous, but unmeaning jn-
ftitution. In the hour when he was crucified, the hook with the f even
feals was opened. Every rite affumed its fjgnificancy ; every predic-
tion met its event; every fymbnl difplayed its corrcfpondence.
TThedark, and feemingly ambiguous method of conveying impor-'
^ * tant

On the Death cf CLrif. 93

tant tUfcoveries under figures and emblems, was not peculiar to the
facred books. The fpirit of God, in pre-fignifying the death of Chrift,
adopted that plan, accoiding to which the whole knowledge of tliofe
early ages was propagated through the world. Under the veil of myf-
tcrii>us ailufion, all wiidom was then concealed. From the fcnflble
A\'orld, images were every-where borrowed, to defcribe things nnfeen.
More was underltood to be meant, than was openly exprelTed. B7
enigmatical rites, the Prielt communicated his dodlrines; by parables
and allegories, the Philofopher inftrudled his'diCcipIes ; even the Le-
giilator, by figurative fayings, commanded the reverence of the people.
Agreeably to this prevailing mode of inftru£lion, the whole difpenfati-
on of the Old Teltament was fo conduiled, as to be the (hadow and
the figure of a fpirituai fyfiem. Ever'y remarkable event, every diilin-
guifhetl perfonage, under the Law, is interpreted in the New Tella-
ment, as bearing fome reference to the hour of which we treat. If Ifaac
was laid upon the altar as an innocent vidlim ; if David was driven
from his throne by the wicked, and reflored by the har/d uf Gcd ; if
the brazen ferpent was hfted up to heal the ptople ; if the rock was
imitten by Moles, to furnifli drink in the wildernefs \ all were types
of Chrid, and alluded to his death.

In predicting the fame event the language of ancient propter j was
magnjhcent, but feemingly contradidlory : For it foretold a Melliah,
who was to be at once a fufferer and a coiiqueror. The Stnr was ta
come out ofjacob, and the Ht anch to Jpring from thejiem of yeJJ'e. The
Angel of the Covenant, the Defire of all Nations, was to comejuddndy to his
temple ; and to him was to be the gathering of the people. Yet at the
fame time, he was to be defpifed and rejected oj men ; he was to be taken
from prifon and from judgement, and to be led as a lamb to the fl aught er.
Though he was a man oJ forrows and acquainted with grief, yet the Gen-
tiles were to come to his light, and Kings to the hrightnejs of his rijwg. In
the hour when Chrirt died, thofe prophetical riddles w ere folved ; thofe
feeming contradictions were reconciled. The obfcmity of oracles,
and the ambiguity of types, vaniihed. T\\^ fun of righteoufnefs rofe;
and, together with the dawn of religion, thofe fhadows palfed away.

IV. This was the hour of the abolition of the Law, and- the in-
troduction of the Gofpel ; the hour ot terminating the old, and of be-
ginning the new difpenfation of religious knowledge and worlhip
throughout the earth. Viewed m this light, it lorms the moil an-
gurt: jera which is to be found in the hiitory of mankind. When
Chrift was fuffering on the crofs, v.c arq informed by one of the Evan-
gel ilts, ...

% r

94 On the Death ofChr'iJl.

gelifts, that he fuid, / thujl ; and that they filled a fpiinge with vuie-
gar, and put it to his mouth. After he had tafed the vinegar, knowing
that all things were now accomplijhed, and the fcriptures fulfilled, he Jaid,
It isfinijhed*; that is, This offered draught of vinegar was the laft
tircumltance predicted by an ancient Prophet t that remained to be
fulfilled. The viiion and the prophecy are now fealed : The Mo-
iaic difpenfation is clored. And hehoivedhis head, and gave up the ghoji

It isfinijhed. — When he uttered ihele words, he changed the Hate
of the univerfe. At that moment the Law ceafed, and the Gofpel
commenced. This was the ever-memorable point of time which fc-
parated the old and the new world from each other. On one fide
ot the point of feparation, you behold the Law, wi^h its priefts, its
Sacrifices, and its rites, retiring* from fight. On the other fide, you
behold the Gofpel, with its fimple and venerable inftitutions, coming
forward into view. Significantly was the veil of the temple rent in
this hour ; for the glory then departed from between the cherubims-
The legal High Priefi delivered up his Urim and Thummim, his breaft-
plate, his robes, and his incenic : And Christ flood forth as the
great High Pried of all fucceeding generations. By that one facri-
fice, which he now offered, he abolilhed facrifices for ever. Altars
on which the fire had blazed ior ages, were now to fmoke no more.
Vi£lims were no more to bleed. Not with the hkod of bulk and goals ^
hut ivith his own blood, he now entered into the Holy Place, there to ap-
pear in the prrefence of God for us.

This was the hour of afl[bciation and union to all the worfhippers of
God. When Chrift laid, // is finifijed, he threw down the wall of
partition which had fo long divided the Gentile from the Jew. He ga-
thered into one, all the faithful, out of evcrykindred and people. He
proclaimed the hour to become, when the knowledge of the true
God Ihould be no longer confined to one nation, nor his worfhip to
one temple; but over all the earth, the worfliippers of the Father
ihQ\Mferve him in fpirit and in truth. From that hour they who
dwelt in the uttermofi ends of the earth, Jlrangers to the covenant of pro-
vufe, began to be brought nigh In that hour, the light of the Gol-
pel downed from far on the Britifh iflands.

puring a long courfc of ages, Providence feemed to be occupied
in preparing the world for this revolution. The whole Jewifh oecono-
my was intended to ulher it in. The knowledge of God was preferv-

e4
* John, xix. 28, 29, 30. >t Pfalm, Ixiv. 21.

On ih Death ofChrljl. <55

cdunextinguifhed in one corner ot the world, that thence, in due time,
might ilRie forth the light which was to overfpread the earth. Suc-
celhve revelations gradually enlarged the views of men beyond the
narrow bounds of Judaea, to a more extenfive kingdom of God.
Signs and miracles awakened their expedlation, and direded their eyes
towards this great event. Whether God defcended on the flaming
mountam, or fpoke by the Prophet's voice ; whether he fcattered his
chofen people into captivity, or re-aflembled them in their own land;
he was ftill carrying on a progreflive plan, which was accomplifhed at
the death of ChriR.

Not only in the territories of Ifrael, but over all the earth, the
great difpenfations of Providence refpeded the approach of this impor-
tant hour. If empires rofe or fell; if war divided, or peace united
the nations ; if learning civilized their manners, or philofophy enlarg-
ed their viewg ; all was, by the fecret decree of Heaven, made to ri-
pen the word for x\\?lX futnefs of lime, vvhen Chrift was to publiih the
whole counfel of God. The Perfian, the Macedonian, the Roman
conqueror, entered upon the ftagc each at his predided period ; and,
though he meant not Jo, neither did his heart think fo, minifterec! to this
hour. The revolutions of power, and the fucceffion of monarchies,
were fo arranged by Providence, as to facilitate tl?fe progrefs of the
Goipel through the habitable world, alter the day had arrived, when
the Jione which was cut out of the mountain without hands, Jhould become a
great mountain, and Jill the earth^. This was the day wliich Abraham
faw afar off, and was glad. This \nzs \.\\tdzy vjh'xzh mnny Prophets
and Kings, and righteous men defired to fee, but could not ; the day for
which the earnefl expectation of the creature, long opprclTed with igno-
rance, and bewildered in fuperftition, might be juflly faid to wait.

V. This was the hour of Chrift's triumph overall the powers of
darknefs ; the hour in which he overthrew dominions and thrones,
led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men. The conteft which the
kingdom of darknefs had long maintained againfi: the kingdom of
light, was now brought to its crifis. The period was come, vvhen the
feed of the woman jhould bruife the head of the fcrpent . For many ages,
the mofl: grofs fuperftition had filled the earth. The glory of the uncor-
ruptible God was eveiy-whtre, except in the land of Judsa, changed inf
images made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and bcafis, and creeping
things. The world, which the Almighty created for himfelf, feemed

to
* Dan. ii. 34, 35.

t)<S On rhe Death cf Chnji.

to have become a temple of idols. Even to vices and pafllons altarft
were railc 1 \ and, wUat Was entitled Religion, was in effe^l a difcipline
cf i.TiDurity. In the midll of this univerful darknefs, Satan had
erecKd his throne; and the learned and polKhed, as well as the
lavage nations, b;)Wed down before him. But at the hour when
Ctirid appeared on the crofs, the fignal of hi:- defeat was given. His
knmlom 1 vldcnly d-.-parted from him ; the reign of idolatry palled away:
H:-- was beheld to fall like lightning from Henven. In that hour, the
foundation Of every Pagan temple fliook. The (Idtue of every falfe
God tottered on its bafe. The Prieft-fled from his failing lhrine»
the Hv^athen oracles became dumb for ever.

As on the crofs Chrill tritimphed over Satan, fo he overcame his
auxiliary the world. Long had it alTailed him with its temptations
and dilcourairetnents. In this hour of fevere trial, he furmountecl
them all. Formerly he ha<l defpifed thepleafures of the world. He
now batfled its terrors. Hence he is juftly faid to have crucifiedthe
Wind. By his fuff.;rings he ennobled diibefs ; and he darkened the
lultre of the pomp and vanities of life. He difcove*ed to his follow-
ers the path which leads, through affii6lion, to glory and to vi£lory ;
and he unparted to them the fame fpirit which enabled him to over-
come. M^ kingdom is not of this world. In this world ye fjall have
tribulation ; but be of good cheer ; I have overcome the world* .

D.ath alfo, the lali; foe of man, was the viftim of this hour. The
formidable appearance of the fpeclre remained ; but his dart was ta-
ken away. For, in the hour when Chri.'t expiated guilt, he difarm-
ed deaih, by fecnring the refnrreflion of the jufl. When he faid fo
his penitent fellow-fufferer, "To-day thou fhnlt be with me in paradife,
he announced to all his followers the certainty of heavenly bl- fs. He
declared the cheruhims to be difmi.Ted, and i\\e faming [word to he
ihcathed, which had been appointed at the fall, to keep froin man the
way of the tree ofU>e\. Faint, before this period, had been the hope,
indiftinft the profped, which even good men enjoyed of the heaven-
ly kin i!;dom. Life and immortality were now brought to licrht. Frotti
the hill of Calvary, the firft clear and certain view was giveij to the
world of the everlafling manfio.is. Since that hour, they hai^e been
the perpetual confoiution of believers in Chrift. Under trouble, they •
footh their minds ; arnidft temptation, they fupport their virtue; and,
in their dying moments, enable them to fay, 0 death I where h thy
/ling '■ 0 grave ! zvhere is th^ viSfory ?

^ John, xvi. 33. f Cen. iii. 24*

On the Death of Chr'tft, 97

VI. This was the hour when our Lord ereified that fplritual
kingdom which is never to end. How vain are the counfels and de-
figns of men ! How fhallow is th« policy of the wicked ! How fhort
their triumphing! The enemies ot Chrift imagined, that in this hour
they had fuccefsfully accomplifhed their plan for his deftrudion.
They believed, that they had entirely fcattered the fmall party of his
followers, and had extinguifhed his name and his honour for ever.
In derifion, they addreffed him as a King. They clothed him with
purple robes; they crowned him with a crown ot thorns; they put a
reed into his hand ; and, with infulting mockery, bowed the knee
before him. Blind and impious men ! How little did they know,
that the Almighty was at that moment_/^///«g- him as a King on the hill
oj Sion; giving him the Heathen pr his inheritance, and the uttermojl
parts of the eeirih for his pijpffion ! How little did they know, that their
badges of mock royalty were at that moment converted into fignals
of abfolute dominion, and the inftruments of irrefiftible power ! The
reed which they put into his hamfs became a rod of iron, with which
he was to break in pieces his enemies ; a fceptre, with which he was
to rule the univerfe in righteoufnefs. The crofs, which they thought
was to ftigmatize him with infamy, became the enfign of his renown.
Inftead of being the reproach of his followers, it was to be their
bOaft and their glory. The crofs wAs to fhine on palaces and churches,
throughout the earth. It was to be aflTumed as the diflindion of the
moft powerful monarch?, and to wave in the banner of yidorious
armies, when the memory of Herod and Pilate (hould be accurfed ;
when Jenifalem fhould be reduced to afhcs, and the Jews be vaga-
bonds over all the world.

Thefe were the triumphs which commenced at this hour. Our
Lord favv them already in their birth ; he faw of the travail of his
foul, and was fatisfied. He beheld the word of God going forth, con-
quering, and to conquer ; fubduing to the obedience of his laws, the
fiibduers of the world ; carrying light into the regions of darknefs,
and mildnefs into the habitations of cruelty. He beheld the Gentiles
waiting below the crofs, to receive the Gofpel. He beheld Ethiopia
and tm- Iflet flretching out their hands to God ; the defert beginning to
rejoice, and to blcffom as the rofe ; and the knowledge of the Lord filling
the earth, as the waters cover thefea. Well pleafed, he faid, // is finifij-
ed. As a conqueror, he retired from the field, reviewing his triumphs t

He bowed his head, and gave up the ghojl. Frgm that hour, Chrift

N. was

5? On the Death of Chr'ifi.

was no longer a mortal man, but Mead tver all things to the Church ;
the glorious King of men and angels, of whofe dominion there (hall
be no end. His triumphs Ihall perpetually increafe. His name Jhall
endure for ever ; it Jhall laji as long as the fun ; men Jhall be bleffed in
kirn, and all nations Jhall call him bleffed.

Such were thetranfaflions, fiich theefFe£ls of this ever memora-
ble hour. With all thofe great events was the mind of our Lord fill-
ed, when he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and faid, Fetther, the hour
is come.

From this view which we have taken of this fubje6t, permit me
to fucrgeft, what ground it affords to confide in the mercy of God,
for the pardon of fm; to truft to his faithfulnefs, for the accomplifh-
ment of all his promifes ; and to approach to him, with gratitude and
devotion, in a£ls of vvorlhip„

In the firfl place, The death of Chrlfl affords us ground to confide
in the Divine mercy, for the pardon of fin. All the fleps of that
high difpenfation of Providence, which we have confidered, lead di-
re6lly to this conclufion. He that fpared not his own Son, but delivered
him up for us all, howfijallhe not with him alf a freely give us all things * ?
This is the final refult of the difcoveries of the Gofpel. On this refts
that great fyftem of confolation, which it hatli reared up for men-
We are not left to dubious and intricate reafonings, concerning the
condudl which God may be expc£led to hold towards his offending
creatures. But we are led to the view of important and illuflrious
fails, which flrike the mind with evidence irrefiflible. For, is it pof-
fible to believe, that fuch great operations, as I have endeavoured to
defcribe, were carried on by the Almighty in vain ? Did he excite in
the hearts of his creatures, fuch encouraging hopes, without any in-
tention to fulfil them ? After fo long a preparation of goodnefs, could.
he mean to deny forgivenefs to the penitent and the humble ? When,
overcome by the fenfe of guilt, man looks up with an aflonifhed eye
to the juftice of his Creator, 'et him recoiled that hour of which tha
Text fpeaks, and be comforted. The fignals of Divine mercy, eredied
in his view, are too confpicuous to be either diflrufted or miftaken.

In the next place, The difcoveries of this hour afford the highefl
igafon to truft in the Divine faithfulnefs, for the accomplifhment of

every

f Remans, viii» 32.

On the Death of Chriji. 99

every promife which remains yet unfulfilled. For this was the hour
of the completion of God's ancient covenant. It was the perfor-
mance of the mercy promijed ta the fathers. We behold the confumma-
tion of a great plan, wlijch, throughout a courfe of ages, had been
uniformly purfued \ and which, againft every human appearance, was,
at the appointed moment, cxadly fulfilled. "No word that is gone Hut
efthe mouth of the Lordy fljall fail. No length of time alters his pur-
pofe. No obftacles can retard it. Towards the ends accompli Ihed
in this hour, the mod repugnant inftruments were made to operate.
We difcern God, bending to his purpofe the jarring paflions, theop-
pofite interefts, and even the vices of men ; uniting fecming contra-
rieties in his fcheme ; making the wrath tfman to praife him ; obliging
the ambition of Princes, the prejudices of the Jews, the malice of Sa-
tan, all to concur, either in bringing forward this hour, or in com-
pleting its deftincd effects. With what entire confidence ought we to
wait for the fulfilment of all his other promifes in their due time ;
even when events are mofl: embroiled, and the profpedl is mod
difcouraging r Although thoufayejf, Thou canfl not fee him ; yet judg~
vient is before him; therefore trufi thou in him. Be attentive only to
perform thy duty ; leave the event to God ; and be aflfu^ed, that un- •
der the direction ot his Providence all things jhall work together for a
happy iffue.

Lastly, The confideration of this whole fubjc6l: t«nds to excite
gratitude and devotion, when we approach to God in z€is of wor-
Ihip. The hour of which I have difcourfsd, prefents him to us in
the amiable light of the Deliverer of mankind, the Rcftorer of our
forfeited hopes. We behold the greatnefs of the Almighty, foften-
ed by the mild radiance of condefcenfion and mercy. We behold
him diminiftiing the awful diftance at which we (fand from his pre-
lence, by appointing tor us a Mediator and lotercelTor, through
whom the humble may, without difmay, approach to Him vTho made
them. By fuch views of the Divine nature, Chriflian faith lays the
foundation lor a worlhip which (hall be at once rational and attedi-
onate ; a worihip, in which the light of the underftanding fhall con-
cur with the devotion of the heart, and the moft profound reverence
be united with the moft cordial love. Chriltian faith is not a fyf-
tem of fpeculative truths. It is not a leflbn of moral inftrudlion on-
ly. By a train of high difcoveries which it reveals, by a fucceffion
of interesting objedls which it places in our view, it is calculated io.

elevate.

%9C> On the Death of Chriji.

elevate the mind, to purify the afFedions, and, by the ailiftanie of
demotion, to confirm and encourage virtue. Such, in particular, is the
frope of that divine inftitution, the Sacrament of our Lord's Sup-
per. To this happy purpofe let k conduce, by concentering, in one ftri-
king point of light, all that the Gofpel has difplayed of what is mofl
important to man. Touched with juft contrition for part offences,
and filled with a grateful fenfe of Divine goodnefs, let us come to
the altar of God, and, with a humble faith in his infinite mercies, de-
vote curfelves to his fervice for ever.

SERMON

( lOI )

SERMON VI.

On Gentleness.

James, iii. 17.
The wifdom that is from above, is — gentle^^

TO be wife in our own eyes, to be wife in the opinion of the
world, and to be wife in the fight of God, are three things
fo very different, as rarely to coincide. One may often be wife in
his own Qycs, who is lar from being fo in the judgment of the world ;
and to be reputed a prudent man by the world, is nofecurity for be-
ing accounted wife by God. As there is a worldly happinefs, which
God perceives to be no other than difguifed mifery \ as there are
worldly honours, which in his eftimalion are reproach ; fo there is a
worldly wifdom, which, inhisfight,isfQoliJhnefs. Of this worldly
wifdom the charaders are given in the context, and placed in contifaft
with thofe ot the wijdom which is from above. The one is the wif-
dom of the crafty ; the other that of the upright. The one terminates
in felfifhnefs; the other, in charity. The one is full of fir if e and
hitter envyings : the other of mercy and of goad fruits. One of the chief
charaders by which the wifdom from above is diftinguifhed, is gentleuefs,
of which I am now to difcourfe. Of this there is the greater occafion
to difcourfe, becaufe it is too feldom viewed in a religious light ; and is
more readily confidered, by the bulk of men, as a mere felicity of na-
ture, or an exterior accomplifhment of manners, than as a Chriftian
virtue, which they are bound to cultivate. I fhall firfl explain the na-
ture of this virtue i and (hall then offer fome arguments to recommend,
and fome dirediuns to facilitate, the pra6lice of it.

I BEGIN with diftinguifhingtruegentlenefs from paffive tamenefs
of fpirit, and from unlimited compliance with the manners of others.
That paHive tamenefs, which fubmits, without ftruggle, to every en-
iiroachment of the violent and alfuming, forms no part of Chriftian
duty but, on the coutrarvj js deltfUutive of general happinefs and

order.

102 On Genlknefs.

order. That unlimited coiiiplaifance, which, on every occafion, falls
in with the opinions and manners of others, is fo far from being a vir-
tue, that it is itfclf a vice, and the parent of many vices. It over-
throws all ileadinefs of principle; and produces that finful conformi-
ty with the world which taints the whole charadler. In the prefent
corrupted ftate of human manners, always to aflfent and to comply, is
the very worft maxim we can adopt. It is impoffible to fupport the
purity and dignity of Chriftian morals, without oppofing the world
on various occaiions, even though we fhonld ftand alone. That gen-
tlenefs, therefore, which belongs to virtue, is to be carefully diftin-
guiihed U-m the mean compliance and fawning affent of fycophants.
It renounces no jnll right from fears. It gives up no important truth
from flattery. It is indeed not only conliftent with a firm mind, but
it neceflarily requites a manly fjpirit, and a fixed principle, in order to
give it any real value. ' Upon this folid ground only, the poliih of.
gentlenels can with advantage be fupcrinduced.

It flands oppofed, not to the moft determined regard for virtue and
truth, but to harllinefs and feverity, to pride and arrogance, to vio-
lence and oppreflion. It is, properly, that part of the great virtue
of charity, which makes us unwilling to give pain to any of our bre-
thren. CompafTion prompts us to relieve their wants. Forbearance
prevents us from retaHating their injuries. Meeknefs leftrains our
angry palTiojis ; candour, our fcvere judgments. Gentlenefs corrects
whatever is ofFenfive in our manners ; and, by a conffant train of hu-
mane attentions, fludies to alleviate the burden of common mifery.
Its office, therefore, is extenfive. It is not, like fome other virtues^
called forth only on peculiar emergencies ; but it is continually in ac-
tion, when we are engaged in intercourfe with men. It ought to
form our addrefs, to regulate our fpcech, and to diffufe itfelf over
our whole behaviour.

I muff warn you, however, not to confound this gentle wifdoin
which ii from above, with that artificial courtefy, that fludied fmooth-
nefs of manners, which is learned in the fchoolof the world. Such
accomplilliments, the molt frivolous and empty may poflefs. Too
often they are employed by the artful, as a fnare ; too often alFe^led
by the hard and unfeeling, as a cover to the bafenefs of their minds.
We cannot, at the fame time, avoid obferving the homage which,
even in fuch inffances, the world is conflrained to pay to virtue. In
order to render focicty agreeable, it is found neceflary to afTume fome-
vvhat, that may at lead carry its appearance. Virtue is the univerfal

charm.

On Gentlencfss ioj

ctiarm. Even its fiiadow is courted, when the fubftance is wanting.
The imitation of its form has been reduced into an art ; and, in the
commerce of Ufe, the firft ftudy of all who would either gain the eftecm,
or win the hearts of others, is to learn the fpeech, and to adopt the
manners, of candour, gentlenefs, and humanity. }3irt that gentlenefs
which is the charafleriftic of a good man, has, like every other vir-
tue, its feat in the heart: And, let mc add, nothing, except what
flows from the heart, can render even external manners truly plcaf-
ing. For no afllimed behaviour can at all times hide the real cha-
Fafter. In that unaife£led civility which fprino;s tram a gentle
mind, there is a charm infinitely'" more powerful than in all the ftu-
died manners of the moft finifhed courtier.

True gentlenefs is founded on a fenfe of what we owe to him who
made us, and to the common nature of which we all (liare. It arifcs
from refl'?£lino' on our own failings and wants; and from juH
views of the condition, and the duty of man. It is native feeling,
heightened and improved by principle. It is the heart which eafily re-
lents ; which feels for every thing that is human ; and is backward
and flow to infli£l the leaft wound. It is affable in its addrefs, and
mild in its demeanour ; ever ready to oblige, and willing to be
obliged by others ; breathing habitual kindnefs towards friends, coirr-
tefy to ftrangersi long-fufFering to enemies. It exercifcs authority
with moderation ; adminiflers reproof with tendernefs ; confers fa-
vours witli eafe and modelty. It is unafTuming in opinion, and
temperate in zeal. It contends not eagerly about trifles ; flow to
contradict, and flill flower to blame; but prompt to allay diflenfion,
and to reflore peace. It neither intermeddles unneceflarily with the
affairs, nor pries inquifitively into the fccrets of others. It delights
above all things to alleviate diftrefs, and if it cannot dry up the fall-
ing tear, to footh at leaft the grieving heart. Where it has not the
power of being ulisful, it is never burdenfome. It feeks to pleafe
rather than to thine and dazzle ; and conceals with care that fupcri-
ority, either of talents or of rank, which is oppreflive to tliofe who
are beneath it. In a word, it is that fpirit, and that tenour of man-
n-^rs, which the gofpel of Chrifl enjoins, when it commands us to
b far one another'' s burdens; to rejoice with thofe who rejoice, and to iveep
with thofe who ivecp; to pleaje every one his neighbour for his good ; to
be kind and tender-hearted ; te be pitiful and courteou ; to fupport the tveak,

and to be patient towards all nwi.

Having now fufliciently explained the natur* o'" this amiable virtue,

. I procured .

104 On Gentknefs'.

I proceed to recommend it to your pradice. Let me, for this end, de-
fire you to confider the duty which you owe to God ; to confider the
relation which you bear one to another ; to confider your own intereft.

I. Consider the duty which you owe to God. When you fur=
vey his works, nothing is fo confpicuous as his greatnefs, and ma-
jelly. When you confult his word, nothing is more remarkable,
than his attention to foftenthat greatnefs, and to place it in the mildcft
and lealt opprefTive light. He not only chara£terifes himfclf,
as the God of confolation, bur, with condefcending gentlenefs, he
particularly accommolates himfelf to the fituaiion of the unfortunate.
He dwelkth With the humble and contrite. He hideth not his face vuhen
the effi'tSied cry. He hcaleth the broken in heart, and hindeth up their
wounds. — When his Son came to be the Saviour of the world, he was
eminent for the fame attribute of mild and gentle goodnefs. Long
before his birth, it was prophefied of him that he (hould not frive,
nor cry, nor caufe his voice to be heard in the Jl reels ; that the hruifed
reed he fhould not break, nor quench the fmeking fax * : And after his
death, this diftinguifhing feature in his charafter was fo univerfally
remembered, that the Apoftle Paul, on occafion of a requefl whick '
he makes to the Corinthians, ufes thofe remarkable expreflions +,
1 beftech you by the meeknefs and gentlenefs ofChrifi. During all his
intercourfe with men, no harflinefs, or pride, or (lately diftance, ap-
peared in his demeanour. In his accefs, he was eafy ; in his manners,
limple; in his anfwers, mild ; in his whole behaviour, humble and
obliging. Learn of me, faid he, for I am meek and lowly in heart. — As '
the Son of God is the pattern, fo the Holy Ghoft is the infpirer of
gentlenefs. His name is the Comforter, the Spirit of grace and peace. '
His fruits, or operattons on the human mind, are love, meeknefs, gen-
tlenefsy and long- f iff ering \. — Thus, by every diCrovery of the God-
head, honour is conferred upon gentlenefs. It is held up to our view,
as peculiarly conne£led with Celeftial Nature. And fuitable to fuch
difcoveries, is the whole flrain of the gofpel. It were unneceiTary
to appeal to any fingle precept. You need only open the New Tefla-
ment, to find this virtue perpetually inculcated. Charity, or love, is
the capital figure ever prefented to our view ; and gentlenefs, forbear-
ance, and forgivenefs, are the founds ever recurring on our ear.

So predominant, indeed, is this fpirit throughout the Chriflian dif-
penfation, that even the vices and corruptions of men have not been

ablo
^ Matth. xii. 19, 20, t 2 Cor. X. I. % Gal v. i^^

On Gentlcncjs, 105

able altogether to defeat its tendency. Though that difpenfation is
far from having hitherto produced its full effe6l upon the world, yet
wc can clearly trace its influence, in humanizing the manners of
men. Remarkable, in this refpedl, isthe vi6lory which it has gain-
ed over thofe powers of violence and cruelty which belong to tli.e in-
fernal kingdom. Wherever Chriftianity prevails, it has difcouraged,
and, in fome degree, abolilhed flavery. It has refcued human na-
ture from that ignominious yoke, under which, in former ages, the
one half of mankind groaned. It has introduced more equuhry be-
tween the two lexcs, and rendered the conjugal union more rational
and happy. It has abated the terocioufnefs of war. It has mitigat-
ed the rigour of delpotifm, mitigated the cruelty of punifhment ; in a
Vv'ord, has reduced mankind from theif ancient barbarity, into a more

humane and gentle ffate. Do we pretend refpe61: and zeal for

this religion, and at the fame tinie allow ourfelves in that haifhnefs
and leverity, which are lb contradictory to its genius? Too plainly
we ihovv, that it has no power over our hearts. We may retain ths
Chrirtian name; but we have abandoned the Chriffian fpirit.

II. Consider the relation which you bear to one another. Man,
as a folitary individual, is a very wretched being. As long as he ftands
detached from his kind, he is pofTeffed, neither of happinefs, nor of
flrength. We are formed by nature to unite ; we are impelled towards
each other, by the companionate inflinils in our frame ; we are
linked by a thoufand connections, founded on common wants. Gcn-
tlenefs, therefore, or, as it is very properly termed, humanity, is
what man, as fuch, in every flation, owes to man. To be inac-
ceflible, contemptuous, and hard of heart, is to revolt againft our
own nature ; is, in the language of fcripture, to hide oia-Jelves from our
oivn flejh. Accordingly, as all feel the claim which they have to mild-
nefs and humanity, fo all are fenfibly hurt by the want of it in others.
On no fide are we more vulnerable. No complaint is more feelingly
made, than that of the harfh and rugged maimers of perfons with
whom we have intercourfe. But how feldom do we transfer the caufe
to ourfelves, or examine how far we areguiltv of infiicling on others,
whofe fenfibility is the fame with ours, thole very wounds of which
we fo loudly complain ?

But, perhaps, it will be pleaded by fome, That this gentlenefs on
which we now infift, regards only thofe fmaller offices of life, which

in
O

jQ^ On Ge7zluiicjs.

in their eye are not eflential to religion and goodnefs. Negligent,
they confefs, on (light occafions, of the government of their tempcf,
or the lefjulatio^ of their behaviour, they are attentive, as they pre-
tend, to the great duties of benehcencc ; and ready, whenever the op-
portunity prefents, to perform important fervices to their fellovv-crea-
turcs. But let fuch perfons refleft, that the occafions of performing
thole mtportant good deeds, very rarely occur. Perhaps their lun-
ation in life, or the nature of their connedions, may in a great
meafure exclude them from fuch opportunities. Great events give
Icope for great virtues ; but the main tenour of human life is com-
pofed of frpall occurrences. Within the round of thefe, lie the ma-
terials of the happinefs of moft men ; the fubje(£ls of their duty,
and the trials of their virtue. Virtue muft be formed and fupport-
ed, not by unfrequent acls, but by daily and repeated exertions. In
order to its becoming either vigorous orufeful, it muft be habitually
a£live; not breaking forth occafionally vvith a tranfient luftre, like
the blaze of the comet; but regular in its returns, like the light of
day: Not like the aromatic gale, which fometimes feafts the fenfe;
but like the ordinary breeze, which purifies the air, and renders it
healthful.

Years may pafs over onr heads, without affording any opportunity
for ads of high beneficence or extenfive utility. Whereas not a day
pafTcs, but in the common tranfadions of life, and efpccially in the inter-
tourfe of domeftic fociety, gentlenefs finds place for promoting the
happinefs of others, andfor ftrengthening in ourfelves the habit of vir-
tue. Nay, by (eafonable difcoveries of a humane fpirit, we fometimesr
contribute more materially to the advancement of happinefs, than by
adions which are feemingly more important. There are fituations,
not a few, in human life, where the encouraging reception, the con-
defccnding behaviour, and the look of fympathy, bring greater relief
to the heart than the moft bountiful gift. While, on the other fide,
when the hand of liberality is extended to beftow, the want of geil-
tlenefs is fufiicient to fruffrate the intention of the benefit. Wt four
thofe v.'hom we mean to oblige; and, by conferring favours with
oilentation and harQinefs, we convert them into injuries. Can any
difpofition then be held to pofTefs a low place in the fcale of virtue,
whofe influence is fo confiderable on the happinefs of the world }

Gentlenefs is, in truth, the great avenue to mutual enjoyment.
Amidft the ftrife of interfering interefts, it tempers the violence of
contention, and keeps alive the feeds of harmony. It foftens animo-
ftiies ; renews endearments ; and renders the countenance of man a

refrefhment

On Genllenefs. 107

refrefhment to man. Banifh gentlenefs from the earth ; Aippofe the
world to be filled with none but harfh and contentious fpirits ; and
what fort of iociety would remain P the folitiide of the defert were pre-
krabie to it. The conflidl of jarring elements in chaos; the cave,
where fubterraneous winds contend and roar ; the den where ferpents
hifs, and bealls of the fore(t howl; would be the only proper rcpre-
ientations of fuch affemblies of men. — 0 that I hadzvings like a dove !
for then I would fly away, and he at rcjL Lol then I would xvandtrfar
off, and remain in the wildernejs ; I zvould hajicn my efcape from the
windy form and tcmpefi: For I have feen violence and f rife in the ci/y.
Mif chief and f arrow are in the midf of it : Deceit and guile depart not
from thefrect^. — Strange! that where men have all one common in-
terelt, that they Ihould lb often abfurdly concur in defeating it! Has
not Nature already provided a' fufficient quantity of unavoidable evils
for the Itateof man ? As if we did not fuffer enough from the ftorni
which beats upon us without, mud we confpire alfo, in thole foci-
eties where we alTemble, in order to find a retreat from that (iorm,
to harafs one another ? — But if the fenfe of duty, and of common hap-
pinefs, be infuflicient to recommend the virtue or which we treat,
tiien let me defire you,

III. To ccnfider your own interefl. Whatever ends a q;ood man
can be fuppofed to purfue, gentlencfs will be foiuid to favour thein.
It prepolfefles and wins every heart. It perfuades, when every
other argument fails ; often difarms the fierce, and melts the ffubborn.
Whereas harflinefs confirn)S the oppofition it would fubdue; and, of
an indifferent per(on, creates an enemy. He who could overlook an
injury committed in the collilion of intercfts, will long and fcvercly
refent the Hights of a contemptuous behaviour. — To the man of gen-
tlenefs, the world is generally difpofed to afcribe every other yood
quality. The higher endowments of the mind we admire at a
diltance ; and when any impropriety of behaviour accompanies
them, we admire without love. They are like fome of the dillant
ftars, whofe beneficial influence reaches not to us. Whereas, 01 the
influence of gentlenefs, all in fome degree partake, and therefore all
love it. The man of this chara6ler riles in the world, without fWug-
gle, and flourifhes without envy. His misfortunes are univerlally la-
mented ; and his failings are cafily forgiven.

But whatever may be the effe6l of thig virtue on our external con-
dition, its influence on our internal enjoyment is certain and power-

luL
* Pfal Iv. 6, 7, 8-

lo8 0« Gentlenefs.

ful. That Inward tranquility which it promotes, is the firft requififff
to every pleaiurable feeling. It is the calm and clear atmofphere, the
fercnity and funlhine of the mind. When benignity and gentlenefs
reij^n within, we are always lead in hazard ot being ruffled from
without ; every perfon, and every occurrence, arc beheld in the mod
favourable lighi. But let fome clouds of difguft arid ill-humour ga-
ther on the mind, and immediately the fcene changes : Nature feems
transformed; and the appearance of all things is blackened to our
view. The grille mind is like the fmooth ftream, which refle£ls every
objedl m itsjufl propoilion, and in its faireft colours. The violent
fpirit, like troubled waters, renders back the images of things diftort-
ed and broken ; and communicates to them all that difordered motion
V/'hich arifes folely from its own agitation.

Offences niujl come. As foon may the waves of the fca ceafe to roll,
as provocations toarife from human corruption and frailty. Attack-
ed by great injuries, the man of mild and gentle fpirit will feel what
human nature feels ; and will defend and refent, as his duty allows
liim. But to thofe flight provocations, and frivolous offences, which
arc the moft frequent caufes of difquiet, he is happily fuperiour.
Hence his days flow in a far more placid tenour than thofe of others,
exempted from the numberlefs difcompofures which agitate vulgar
minds. Infpired v/ith higher fenliments ; taught to regard, with in-
dulgent eye, the^ frailties of men, the omifllons of the carelefs, the
follies ot the imprudent, and the levity of the fickle, he retreats into
the calmnefs of his fpirit, as into an undifturbed fandluary ; and qui-
etly allows the ufual current of life to hold its courfe.

This virtue has another, and flill more important connection with
our intereft, by means of thai: relation which our prefent behaviour
bears to our eternal ftate. Heaven is the region of gentlenefs and
ftiendfliip ; Hell, of fiercenefs and animofity. If then, as the fcrip-
ture iiiilru6ls us, according to what zve mw foiv we jnujl hereafter reap,
it follows, that the cultivation of a gentle temper is neceffary to pre-
pare us for heavenly felicity; and that the indulgence of harfh dif-
pofitions, is the introdudion to future mifery. Men, I am afraid
too often fcparate thof.. articles of their belief which relate to eternity,
from the ordinary affairs of the world. They connedl them with the
feafons ot Icrioulnefs and gravity. They leave them with much re-
fpe£l, as in a high region, to which, only on great occafions, they
refort ; and, when theydefcend into common life, confuler themfelves
as at liberty to give free fcope to their humours and paflions. Where-
as, in fad, it is their behaviour in the daily train of fecial intcrcourfe

which

On Genthncfs, tog

which, more than any other caufc, fixes and determines their fpiritual
charadlcr ; gradually inftilling thofe difpofitions, and forming thofe
habits, which afFedt their everlafting condition. With regard to tri-
fles, perhaps their malignant dirpofitions may chiefly be indulged.
But let them remember well, that thofe trifles, by increafing the
growth of peevifhnefsandpallion, become pregnant with the moll feri-
ous mifchiefs ; and may fit them, before they are aware, tor being
the future companions of none but infernal fpirits.

I mean not to lay, that, in order to our preparation for heaven,
it is enough to be mild and gentle ; or that this virtue alone will cover
all our fms. Through the felicity of natural conftitution, a certain
degree of this benignity may be poiTelTed by fome, whofe hearts are
in other refpccls corrupt, and their lives irregvilar. But what I n^-an
to alfert, is, That where no attention is given to the goverumeni of
temper, meeknefs for Heaven is not yet acquired, and the regenerating
power of religion is as yet unknown. One of the firft works ofthe
fpirit of God is, to infufe into every heart which it mhi'bits, t!iat
gefi/Ie wijdom which h from above. They zvho are ChrljVs have ctuciiicd
theflejh, with its affcSiions and lufts : But let it not be forgotten, that
among the works of theflejh, haired, variance, emulations, wrath, frife,
andenvyings, are as exprellly enumerated, as imcleannefs, tnurders, drun-
hennefs, and revelling*. They who continue either in the one or the
other, J}}all not inherit, indeed cannot inherit, the hingdom of God.

Having thus (hown the importance of gcntlenefs, both as a moral
virtue, and as a Chriftian grace, I fhall conclude the fubjeft, with
briefly fuggefting fome confiderations which may beofufe to facilitate
the pradice oi it.

For this end, let me advife you to view your chara^er with an im-
partial eye ; and to learn, from your own failings, to give that indul-
gence which in your turn you claim. It is pride which fills the
world with fo much harfhnefs and feverity. In the fulnefs of felf-
eftimation, we forget what we are. We claim attentions, to which
we are ncjt entitled. We are rigorous to ofiences, as if we had ne-
ver offended ; unfeeling to dilfrefs, as if we knew not what it was to
fufier. From tho.^e airy regions of pride and folly, let us defcend to
our proper level. Let us furvey the natural equality on which Pro-
vidence has placed man with man, and reflect on the infirmities com-
mon to all. If therefleaion on natural equality and mutual offen-
ces be infufficient to prompt humanity, let us at leaft remember what

f Cal V. 19, ao, 21.

Iio On Gentlenefs.

we are in tlie fight of God. Have we none of that forbearance to
give to one another, which we all fo earneftly intreat from Heaven ?
Can we look for clemency or gentlenefs from our Judge, when we
are io backward to ihow it to our own brethren ?

Accultom yourfelves alfo, to refleft on the (mall moment of thofe
things which are the ufual incentives to violence and contention. In
the ruffled and angry hour, we view every appearance through a falfe
medium. The mod inconfiderable point of interert, or honour, fwells
istoa momentous obje(£l ; and the fiighteft attack feems to threaten
immediate ruin. But after palTion or pride has fubfided, we look
round in vain for the mighty mifchiefs we dreaded. The fabric, w hich
our diilurbed imagination had reared, totally difappears. But though
the caufe of contention has dwindled away, its confequences remam.
We have alienated a friend ; we have embittered an enemy ; we
have fown the feeds of future fufpicion, malevolence, or difguft. —
Sufpend your violence, I befeech you, for a moment, when caufes of
difcord occur. Anticipate that period of coolntfs, which, of itfelf,
vvill (oon arrive. Allow yourfelv'es to think, how little you have any
profpedl of gaining by fierce contention ; but how much of the true
kappiiiefs of life you are certain of throwing away. Eafily, and from
the fmallelt chink, ihe bitter waters of fbife are let forth ; but their
courfe cannot be forefeen ; ai^d he ftldom fails of fuffering moft from
their poifonous efFcdl, who firft allowed them to flow.

But gentlenefs will, moff of all, be promoted by frequent views of
thofe great objeds which our holy religion prefents. Let the profpe6fs
of immortality fill your minds. Look upon this world as a ftate of
pallage. Confider yourfelves as engaged in the purfuit of higher in-
tereifs; as ading now, under the eye of God, an introductory part
to a more important fcene. Elevated by fuch fentiments, your mind
will become calm and fedate. You will look down, as from a fupe-
liour ftation, on the petty diffurbances of the world. They are the
feliifli, the fenfual, and the vain, who are moft fubje«£t to the impo-
tence of paflion. They are linked fo clofely to the world ; by fo
many fides they touch every objefl, and every perfon around them,
that they are perpetually hurt, and perpetually hurting others. But
the fpirit of tTue religion removes us to a proper diftance from the
grating objects of worldly contention. It leaves us fufliciently con-
nected with the world, for atting our part in it with propriety ; but
difengages us from it fo far, as to v/eaken its power of diflurbing our
tranquility. It infpires magnanimity ; and mnc;nanimity always
breathes gentlenefs. It leads us to view the folues of men with pity,

not

On GentUmfs. ill

fiot with rancour; and to treat, with the mlldnefs of a fuperiour na-
ture, what in little minds would call forth all the bitternefs of pafilon.
Aided by Inch confiderations, let us cultivate that gentle wifdom
which is, in io many refpecSls, important both to our duty and our
happinels. Let us ail'ume it as the ornament of every o^%, and of
every flation. Let it temper the petulence of youth, and foften the
morofencls of old age. Let it mitigate authority in thofe who rule,
and promote deference among thofe who obey. I conclude with re-
peatir.g the cauii jii, not to miffake for true gentlenefs, that flimfey imi-
tation ul it, called polillied manners, which often, among men of the
world, under a Imooth appearance, conceals much afperity. hti yours
be native gentlenefs of heart, fiowinp, from the love of God, and the
love of man. Unite this amiab'e fpirit with a proper zeal for all that is
right, andjuft, and true. Let piety be combined in your charadler
with humanity. Let determined integrity dwell in a mild and c'cntle
breaft. A character thus fupported, will command more real rcfpe^f,
than can be procured by the mofl fhining accomplifhmcnis, when fe-
parated from virtue.

SERMON

( 112 }

SERMON VIL

On the Disorders of the Passions.

Esther, v. 13.

Tet all this ava'ileth me nothing, fo Jong as I fee Mordecai the "Jew Jilting
at the King's gate.

H E S E are the words of one, who, though high Inflation and
power, conielfed himfelf to be miferable. They relate to a
memorable occurrence in tiie Perfian hiftory, under the reign of
Ahafuerus, who is fuppofed to be the Prince known among the Greek
hiilorians by the name of Artaxerxes. Ahafuerus had advanced, to
the chief dignity in his kingdom, Haman, an Amalekite, who inherit-
ed all the ancient enmity of his race to the Jewifli nation. He appears,
irom what is recorded of him, to have been a very wicked minifter.
Railed to greatnefs, without merit, he employed his power folely for
the gratification of his pafhons. As the honours which he pofTeffed
were next to royal, his pride was every day fed with that fervile ho-
mage which is pecuh"ar to Afiatic courts ; and all the fervants of the
King proftrated themfelves before him. In the midft of this general
adulation, one perfon only flooped not to Haman. This was Mor-
clecai the Jew ; who, knowing this Amalekite to be an enemy to the
people of God, and, with virtuous indignation, defpifing that info-
lence of profperity with which he faw him lifted up, bo-wed not, nor
did him reverence. On this appearance of difrefpe6l from Mordecai,
Haman was full of wrath : But he thought [corn to lay hands on Morde-
cat alone. Perfonal revenge was not fuficient to fatisfy him. So vi-
olent and black were his pafhons, that he refolved to exterminate the
whole nation to which Mordecai belonged. Abufing, for this cruel
purpofe, the favour of his credulous Sovereign, he obtained a decree
to be fent forth, that, againfl a certain day, all the Jews throughout
the Perfian dominions Ihould be put to the fvvord. Mean while,
confident offuccefs, and blind to approaching ruin, he continued ex-
ultiiig in his profperity. Invited by Ahafuerus to a royal banquet,
which Eflher the Q^ieen had prepared, he went forth that day joyful,

and

On the DIforders of the Psjfimi. If 3

and wllh a glad heait. But beholil how (light an incident was fiiffi-
cietit to poilbn his joy ! As he went forth, he favy Mordecai in the
I'viiig's gate; and oblerved, that flill he refufed to do him homage:
He Jijod not up, nor was moved for him ; although he well knew the
formidable defigns which Haman was pieparing to execute. One
private man, who defpifed his greatnefs, and difdained fubmifTron, while
a whole kingdom trsmbled before him ; one fpirit, which the utmoft
ftretcH of his power could neither fubdue nor humble, blalled h's tri-
umphs. His whole foul was ITisiken with a (^orm of paflion. Wrath,
pride, and defue of revenge, rofe into fury. With difficulty he re-
trained himfelf in public; but as foon as he came to his own houfe,
he was forced to difclofethe agony of his mind. He gathered toge-
tlier his friends and family, with Zeridi his wife. He told thcin of
the glory of his riches, and the multitude of his children, and all the things
wherein the King had promoted him, and hozv he had aduanad him abo-ve
the princes and fervnnts of the King. He f aid, moreover, y\a, Efihcr the
^leen did let no man come in ivith the King, unto the banquet that jhe had
prepared, but myfelf : and to-rnorroib alfo am I invited unto htr with the
King. After all this preamble, what is the conclufion }~-Tct all this
av'iileth me nothing, fo long as I fee Mirdecui the 'Jciv fitting at the King i
gate.

THe fequci of Haman's hiflory I fhall riot now purfiie. It might
allord rriatter for much inlbuition, by the confpicuous juflice of God
in his fall and punifhmcnt. But, contemplating only the fingular fitu-
ation in which the Text prefents him, and the violent agitation of his
mind which it difplays, th6 following refiedions naturally arife, which,
together with fomepradical improvements, (hall make the fubje^l of
this difcoyrfe. I. How m.ifcrable is vice, when one gudty pallioii
creates fo much torment! H. How unavailing is profperity, when,
in the height of it, a fingle difappointment can deftroy thereliOi of all
its pleafures! HI. How weak is human nature, which, in theabfenoe
of real, is thus prone to fo:'m to itfelf miaginary vvoes !

I. How miferable is vice, when one guilty paffion is capable of cre-
ating fo rnucl: torment ! When we difcourfe to you of the internal mi-
fery of ft'nners ; when we reprefent the pangs which they fuffer, from
violent paflions, and a corrupted heart; we are fometimcs fufpedted
of chufihg a theme for declamatioTi, and of heightening the pi(Elura
which W£.<lrav/, by coloirrs borrowed from fancy. They whofc minds
are, by nature, h;^ppily tranquil, or whofe liluation in life removes

t-hcm

114. On the D'ljordsrs

ihem from the dlRurbancc and tumult of pafTion, can hardly conceive,
that as long as the body is at eafe, and the external condition profpe-
rous, any thing which pafTes within the mind fhould caufe fuch ex-
quifitc woe. But, for the truth of our alTertions, we appeal to the
liiftory of mankind. We might reafon from the confiitution of
the rational frame ; where the underftanding is appointed to be fu-
preme, and thepafliyns be fubordinate ; and where, if this due arrange-
ment of its parts be overthrown, mifery as neceiTarily cnfues, as pain
is confequent in the animal frame, upon the diflortio!) of its members.
But laying fpeculations of this kindafide, it is fufficient to lead you to
the view of fadls, the import of which can ncilhir c controverted,
nor miilaken. This is, indeed, the great advantage of hiftory, that
it is a mirror which holds up mankind ta their own view. For, in
all ages, human nature has been the fame. In the circle of worldly
yllairs, the fame characlers and fituations are perpetually reluming ;,
;indin the foiliesand padions, the vices and crimes, of the generations
that are [>aff, we read thofe of the prefent.

Attend, then, to the inftance now before us; and conceive, if you
can, a pcrfon more thoroughly wretched, than one reduced to make this
luimiliating confeflion, that though furrounded with power, opulence,
and pleafure, he was lofl to all happinefs, through the fiercenefsof his
refentment ; and was at that moment ftung by difappointment, and
torn by rage, beyond what he could bear. All this avaikth me nothings
Jo long as I fee Mordccai the yew fitting at the King's gate. Had this
been a foliioquy of Haman's within himfelf, it would have been a
fufficient difcovery of his mifery. But when we confider it as acon-
ieflion which he makes to others, it is a proof that his mifery was be-
come infupportable. For fuch agitations of the mind every inan flrives
to conceal, becaufe he knows they difhonour him. Other griefs and
forrows, he can, with freedom, pour out to a confident. What he
fuffers from the injuftice or malice of the world, he is not afhamed to
acknowledge. But when his fufFering ari fes from the bad difpofitions
of his own heart ; when, in the height of profperity, he is rendered
miferable, folely by difappointcd pride, every ordinary motive for com-
munication ceafcs. Nothing but the violenceof anguifh can drive him
to confefs a paHion which renders hiin odious, and a weaknefs which
renders him dcfpicable. To what extremity, in particular, muft he
be reduced, before he can difclofe to his own Varnily the infamous fe-
cret of his mifery? In the eye of his family every man wiflies to ap-
pear refpedtable, and to cover from their knowledge whatever may-
vilify or degrade him. Attacked or reproached abroad, he confolsi-

himfeii

of the Pfjjfftms, 115

himfdf with his importance at hoine ; ami in domeftic attachment
and reijpect, leeks for lomecompeniation for the injuitice of the world.
Judge then ol the degree of torment which Haman endured, by its
breaking through all ihele reiiraints, and forcing him to publilh his
fhame before thofe from whom all men feek mo(t to hide it. How fe-
vere mud have been the confli£l which he underwent within himfelf,
before he called together his wife and all his friends for this purpole!
How dreadful the agony he fufFered at the moment of his confellion,
when, to the aftonilhcd company, he laid open the caufe of his diitrefs !
Airemble all the evils which poverty, difeafe, or violence can in-
fh£t, and their flings will be found by far lefs pungent, than thofe
which fuch guilty paflions dart into the heart. Amidit the ordinary
calamities of the world, the mind Cc>.n. exert its powers, and fugge[t
relief: And the mind is properly the m;in ; the fuiferer, and his fuf-
ferings, can be diltinguilhed. But thofe diforders of pafTion, by feiz-
ing directly on the mind, attack human nature in its ftrong hold, and
cut off" its lalt relonrce. They penetrate to the very feat of fenfati-
on ; and convert all the powers of thought intoinflruments of torture.
Let us remark, in the event that is now before us, the awful hand
of God^ and admire his jultice, in thus making the fmner*s own wick-
edn^fs to reprove him, and bis badjlidings to correal him. Scep-
tics reafon in vain againit the reality of divine government. It is not
a fubjedl of difpute. It is a fail which carries the evidence of fcnfe,
and difplays itfelf before our eyes. We fee the Almighty manifeilly
purjuing thejinner with evil. We fee him conne£ling with every fin-
gle deviation from duty, thofe wounds of the fpirit which occafiori
the moft exquifite torments. He hath not merely promulgated his
laws now, and delayed the diftribution of rewards and punilhments
until a future period of being. But the fan6lions of his laws already
take place ; their effects appear; and with fuch infinite wifdom are
they contrived, as to require no other executioners of juflice againll
the ilnner, than his own guilty paflions. God needs not come forth
from his fecret place, in order to bring him to punifhment. He need!
not call thunder down from the heavens, nor raife any minifter of
wrath from the abyfs below. He needs only fay, Epharim fs joined to
his idols; let him alone: And, at that inftant, the finner becomes his
own tormentor. The infernal fire begins, of itfelf, to kindle within
him. The worm that never dies, feizes on his heart.

Let us remark alfo, for this example, how imperfedlly we can judge
from external appearances, concerning real happincfs or mifery. All
Perfia, it is probable, envied Hanian as the happicft pcrfon in thecni'

Ji;j5 On I be D if orders

pire ; while yeti at the moment of which we now treat, there was not
within its bounds one more thoroughly wretched. VVe are feduced and
deceived by that falfe glare which profperity fometimes throws around
bad men. We are tempted to imitate their crimes, in order to par-
take of tUeir imagined felicity. But remember liaman,, and beware of
the fnare. Think not, wjien you behoU a pageant of grandeur dis-
played to public view tliat you difcern theenfign ol certain happintfs.
In order to form any jult coiiclufion, you mu(t follow the great man
into the retired appartm.nt, where he lays afide his difguife ; you muft
iiQt only be able to penetrate into the interionr of tam.ilies, bi:t you
muft have a faculty by which you can look ijito the infide of huart?.
Were you endowed with fuch a power, you wou'd molt commonly
behold good inen, in proportion to their goodnefs, Satisfied and eafy ;
you would behold atrocious finners always wrelflefs and unhappy.

Unjuft are our complaints, of the promifcuous diftribution made by
Providence, ot its favours among men. From Superficial views fuch
copiplaints arife. The dilfribution of the goods of fortune, indeed,
may often be promifcuous ; that is, difproportioned to the moral cha-
radlers of men j but the allotment of real happinefs is never fo. For
is thf wicked there is no peace. They are Uhs the troubled Jea zvhen it
cannot rcji, They travel ivith pai?i all their days. Trouble ar.d arigui/h
prevail againjl them. Terr ours tnake them afraid on every fide. A dreod-

J u! found is in their ears ; and they are in great fear ivhere no fear is, ■

Hitherto we have conlidered Haman under the character of a very
wicked man, tormented by criminal pafhons. Let us now confider
him, inerely as a child of fortune, a prolperous man of the world , and
proceed to obfcrve,

II. How unavailing worldly profperity is, fince, in the midrt of
it, a lingle difappointment is fufficient to embitter allits pleafures.
We might at firft imagine, that the natural effect ofprofperity would
be, to diffufe over the mind a prevailing (atisfadion, which the lelfer
evils of life could not rulReordilturb. We might expedt, that as one
in the full glow of health, defpifes the inclemency of weather; fo one
m poirdlion oi all the advantages oi' high poA-cr and (tation, Ihould
tlifregard flight injuries ; and, at perfect eale with himfelf, Ihould vievr,
in the molt favourable light, the behaviour of others around him.
winch elfeds would inc^eed follow, if worldly prolperity contained in
iilclf the true principles of human felicity. But as it polleires them
not, the very reverfe ot thofe confequcnces generally obtains. Prof-
perity debililaies, inllead of llrengthening the miud. Its molt com*;

rnon

o/" the Pafftons'. if t *{

rnon e^c£l Is, to create an extreme fenfibilify to the flighteft wound.
It foments impatient defires; and railes expe6tations which no fuc-
cefscan fatisfy. It Toilers a falfe dehcafy, which fickens in the midd of
indnlgence. By repeated gralilication, it blunts the feehngs ot men
to what isplcafing; and leaves them unhappily acute to whatever is
uneafy. Hence, the gale whicii another would rc;^rcely feei, is, to
the profperous, a rude tempeft. Hence, the rofe-leaf doubled below
them on the couch, as it is told of the tfFtminate Sybarite, breaks
their reft. Hence, the difrefped fhown by ?4ordecai, preyed with
fuch violence on the heart of Haman. Upon no principle of reafon
can we alhgn a fufficient caufe for all the diftrefs which this incident oc-
cafioned to him. The caufe lay not in the external incident. It lay
within himfelfi it arofe from a mind diftempered by profperity.

Let this example correcfl that blind eagernefs, with which we rufh
to the chafe of worldly greatnefs and honours. I fay nat, thra it Ihould
altogether divert us from purfuing them ; fmce, when enjoyed with
temperance and vvildom, they may doubtlefs both enlarge our utility,
and contribute to our comfort. But let it teach us not to over-rave
them. Let it convince us, that unlefs we add to them the necefTary
corredives of piety and virtue, they are, by themfelves, more likely
to render us wretched, than to make us happy.

Let the memorable fate of Haman fuggeft to us alfo, how often, be-
fides corrupting the mind, and engendering internal mifery, they lead
us amcng precipices, and betray us into ruin. At the moment when
fortune feemed to fmile upon him with the moft ferene and fettled af-
pe£l, fhe was digging in fecret the pit for his fall. Profperity was
•kveavins around his head the web of deflru£lion. Succels infiamed
his pride ; pride increafed his thirft of revenge ; the revenge which,
for the fake of one man, he fought to execute on a whole nation, in-
cenfed the Q^icen \ and he is doomed to fufFer the fame death which
^e had prepared for Mordecai. — Had Haman remained in a private
flation, he might have arrived at a peaceable old age. He might have
been, I Ihall not fay, a good or a happy man, yet probably far lofs
guilty, and lefs vrretched, than when placed at the head of the gveatelt
empire in the Eali. JVho knoweth ivhat is good for man in this iijt ;
all the days of bis vain life, which he fperideth as afhadozv ?

An cxtenfue contemplation of human affairs will lead us to tins
conclufion, That, among the different conditions and ranks of men, tire
balance of happinels is prcferved in a great meafure equal ; and ^hat the
high and the low, the rich and the poor, approach, in point of real en-
joyment, rauch nearer to each other than is commoniy imagined. In

the

Ij8 On the Djforders

the lot of nian, mutual compenfations, both of pleafnre and ofpalrt,
iniiverially take place. Providence never intemled, that any Hate here
ihoiikl be either completely happy, or entirely miierable. If the feel-
ings ol pleafure are more numerous, and more lively, in the higher
departments of life, fuch alfo are thofe of pain. If greatnefs flatters
our vanity, it multiplies our dangers. If opulence increafes our
gratifications, it increafes, in the fame proportion, our defires and de-
mands. If the poor are confined to a more narrow circle, yet within
that circle lie mo'A of thofe natural fatisfadions, which, after all the
refinements of art, are found to be the mod genuine and true. — In a
Hate, therefore, where there is neither fo much to be coveted on the
one hand, nor to be dreaded on the other, as at firfl appears, how fub-
miffive ought we to be to the difpo/al of Providence I How temperate
in our defires and purfuits! How much more attentive to preferve our
virtue, and to improve our minds, than to gain the doubtful and equivo-
cal advantages of worldly profperity ! But now, laying alide the

conlideration of Haman's great crimes; laying afide his high profpe-
rity ; viewing him fimply as a man, let us obferve, from his hiflory,

III. How weak human nature is, which, in the abfence of real,
IS thus prone to create to itfelf imaginary woes. All this availeth me

nothing, Jo long as I fee Mordecai the Jew fit ting at the King's gate. ■

What was it, O Haman ! to thee, though Mordecai had continued ta
iit there, and neglected to do thee homage ? Would the banquet have
been on that account the lefs magnificent, thy palace lefs fplendid, or thy
retinue lefs numerous ? Could the difrefped of an obfcure firanger
difhonour the favourite of a mighty King ? In the midil: of a thoufand
iubmillive courtiers, was one fidlen countenance an objed worthy ot
drawing thy notice, or of troubling thy repofe ? — Alas ! in Haman we
behold too ju(l a pidure of what often pafles within ourfelves. We
never know what it is to be long at eafe. Let the worW ceafe from
changing around us. Let external things keep that fltuation in which
we moll wifli them to remain ; yet fomewhat from within fhall foon
arife, todiflurb our happinefs. A Mordecai appears, or feems to ap-
pear, fitting at the gate. Some vexation, which our fancy has cither
entirely created, or at leaft has unrcafonably aggravated, corrodes us
in fecret; and until that be removed, all that we enjoy availeth us nothing.
Thus, while we are incelTantly complaining of the vanity and the evils
of human life, we make that vanity, and we increafe thofe evils. Un-
fl<illed in the art of extrafting happinefs from the objcds around u&»
our ingenuity folely appears in converting them into mifery.

Let

«f the Paffiom. 1:19

Let it not be thought, that troubles of this kind are incident only
to the great and the mighty. Though they, perhaps, from the in-
temperance of their paffions, are peculiarly expofcd to ihetn ; yet
the dileafe itfelf belongs to human nature, and fpreads through ail
ranks. In the humble and feemingly quiet Ihade of private lite, dif-
content broods over its imaginary lorrovvs ; preys r.pon the citizen, lio
kfs than upon the courtier; and often nouriilies padions equally ma-
lignant in the cottage and in the palace. Having once feized the
inind, it iprcads its own gloom over every furrounding objcifl ; it every
■where learches out materials fur itfelf ; and in no direcl:ion more fre-
quently employs its unhappy activity, than in creating divlfions amongll
mankind, and in magnifjing flight provocations into mortal injuries-
Thofe felf-created miferies, imaginary in the caufe, but real in tiie
fufFcring, will be found to form a proportion of human evils, not infc-
riour, either in feverity or in number, to all that we endure from the
unavoidable calamities of life. In fituations where much cotiifort
might be enjoyed, this man's fuperiority, and that man's negleil, our
jea'ioufy of a friend, our hatred of a rival, an imagined affront, or a nVif-
takcn point of honour, allow us no repofe. Hence, difcords in fami-
lies, animofities among friends, and wars among nations. Hence,
Haman miferable in the midfl of all that greatnsfs could bellow. Hence
multitudes in the moft obfcure flations, for whom Providence feem-
ed to have prepared a quiet life, no lefs eager in their petty broils, nor
lefs tormented by their palTions, than if princely honours were the prize
for which they contended.

From this train of obfervation, which the Text has fuggcfled, can
we avoid reflecting upon thediforder in which human nature plainly
appears at prefent to lie i We have beheld, in Haman. the pidureof
that mifery which arifes from evil pafiions; of that unhapi>inefs, which
is incident to the higheft profperity; of that difcontent, which is com-
mon to every ffate. Whether we conhder him as a bad man, a profpe-
roiis man, or fimply as a man, in every light we behold reafon too weak
for paffion. This is the fource of tlie reigning evil ; this is the root of
the univerfal difeafe. The ftory of Haman only fhows us, what
human nature has too generally appeared to be in every age. Hencc«
when we read the hiftory of nations, what do we read but the hiflory
of the follies and crimes of men? We may dignify thofe recordei-T
tranfadions, by calling them the intrigues of flatefmen, and the ex-
ploits of conquerours ; but they are in truth, no other than the cftoits
4)f difcontent to efcape from its mifery, and the firugg^r^ '-'''■ '""'r.tendf'

Ho On the DiforJers

iirg paflions among unhappy men. The hiftory of mankind has evai?
been a continued tragedy ; the world, a great theatre exhibiting tlfe
lame repeated fcene, of the follies of men Ihooting forth into guilt,
and of their padions fermenting, by a quick procefs, into mifery.

But can we believe, that the nature of man oame forth in this ftate
froni the hands of its gracious Creator ? Did he frame this world, and
(lore it with inhabitants, folely that it might be rcplenifhcd with crimes
and misfortunes? — In the moral, as well as in the natural world, we
may plainly difcern the figns of fome violent convnlfion, which has
Diattered the original vvorkmanlhip of the Almighty. Amidfl this
wreck of human nature, traces ftill remain which indicate its Author.
Thofe high powers of confcience and reafon.that capacity for happlnefs,
that ardour of interprife, that glow of afFedion, which often break
through the gloom of Kuman vanity and guilt, are like the fcaitered
columns, the broken arches, and defaced fculptures of fome fallen tem-
ple, whofe ancient fpIendoUr appears amidft its ruins. So confpicuous
in human nature are thofe charaders, both of a high origin, and of a
degraded ftate, that, by many religious fe6ls throughout the earth, they
have been feen and contelFed. A tradition feem^ to have pervaded
alraofl all nations, that the human race had either, through fome
OiF.Mice, forfeited, or, through fome misfortune, loll that ftationofprL
insval honour which they once pofleifed. But whilcj from this doc-
trine, ill underrtood, and involved in many fabulous tales, the nations
wandering rn Pagan darknefs could dravv no confcquences that were
juft ; wjiile totally ignorant of the nature of the difeafe, they fought
ill vain for the remedy ; the fame divine revelation,- which has infor-
med us in what manner our apoflacy arofe, from the abufe of our rati-
onal powers, has inftruded us alfo hov/ we,,niay be reftored to virtue
and to happinefs.

Let us, therefore, ftudy to improve the afliftance which this revela^
tion affords, for the reRoration of our nature, and the recovery of our
iclicity. With humble and greatful minds, let us apply to thofe me-
dlcmal fprings which it hath opened, for curing the diforders of ouf
heart and paflions. In this view, let us, with reverence, look up to
that Divme Perfonage, who defcended into this world on purpofe to
^t the light and the life of 7nen ; who came in the fulnefs of grace and
tr..;,i, to repair the defolatisn of many generations, to reftore order among
the works of Gofl, and to raife up a nevj earth and new heavens, tchercin
nghlemjnejs fnonld dxvdlfor ever. Under his tuition let us put ourfelvcs;
and, amidft the (forms of paflion to which we arc here expofed, and

tlic

of the Pafflons. fit

the flippery paths which we are left to tread, never triifl: prefumptu*
oudy to our own underftanding. Thankful that a Heavenly Con-
ductor vouchfafes his aid, let us earneftly pray, that from him may
deicejid divine light to guide our fteps, and divine ftrength to fortify
our minds. Let us pray, that his grace may keep us from all intem-
perate pafllons, and miitaken purfuits of pleafure ; that whether it
Ihall be his will to give or to deny us earthly profperity, he may blefs
us with a calm, a found, and well regulated mind ; may give us mo-
deration in fuccefs, and fortitude under difappointm.ent ; and may en-
able Usfo to take warning frorri the crimes and mileries of others, as
to efcape the inares of guilt.

While we thus maintain a due depehdeiice oji God, let us alfo
exert ourfelves with care in a6ling bur own part. From the whole
of what has been laid, this important inftru£lion arifas, that the hap-
pinefs of every man depends more upori the flaite of his own mind,
than upon any one external circumffance ; nay, more tKan upon all
external things put together. We have feen, that inordinate pafli-
ons are the great dirturbers of life ; and that, unlefs we pofTefs a good
conlcience, and a well-governed mind, difcontent will blaft every en-
joyment, and the highetl profperity will prove only difguifed mifcry.
Fix then this cojiclufion in your minds, that the deftrudlion of your
virtue is the deftrudion of your peace. Keep thy heart ivi/h all dili-
gence : govern it with the greateft Care ; for out of it are the ijjiies of
life. In no ftation, in no period, think yonifelves fecure from the
dangers which fpiing from your pafllions. Every age, and every fta-
tion they befet j from youth to grey hairs, and from the peafant to
the prince.

At your firft feftine out in life, efpecially when yet unacquaintecl
with the world and its fnares, when every pleafure enchants with its
fmile, and every obje£t fhines with the glofs of novelty ; beware of
the feducing appearances which furround you, and recollcdl what
others have fuffered from the power of headftrong defire. If you al-
low any pafhon, even though it be efteemed innocent, to acquire an
abfolute afcendant, your inward peace will be impaired. But if any,
which has the taint of guilt, take early pofleflion of your mind, you
may date from that moment the ruin of your tranquillity. Nor wit'H
the feafon of youth does the peril end. To the impetuofity of youth-
ful defire, fucceed the more fober, but no lefs dangerous, attachments
of advancing years \ when the pafTions v^bich are connected with inte*

left

£■22- On the Diforders, i^c',

reft and ambition begin their reign, and too frequently extend then" mj^-*
lignant influence, even over thole periods ot life which ought to be mod
tranquil. Fronn the firft to the laft of man's abode on earth, the difcipline
muft never be relaxed, of guarding the heart from the dominion of paf-
iion. Eager paflions, and violent defires, were not made for maii^
"They exceed his fphere. They find no adequate obje£ls on earth ;
and of courfe can be produ£live of nothing but mifery. The certain
conlcquence of indulging them is, that there fliall come an evil day,
when the anguifli of difappointment (hall drive us to acknowledge, that
all which we enjoy {n>aileth us mlhing.

You are not to imagine, that the warnings which I have given in
this difcourfe, are applicable only to the cafe of fuch fignal offenders as
he was, of whom the Text treats. Think not, as I am afraid too
many do, that becaufe your paflions have not hurried you into atrocious
deeds, they have therefore wrought no mifchie{,and have left no fling
behind them. By a continued feries of loofe, though apparently trivi-
al, gratifications, the heart is often as thoroughly corrupted, as by the
commiflion of any one of thole enormous crimes which fpring frona
great ambition, or great revenge. Habit gires the pafTions ftrength,
while the abfence of glaring guilt feemingly juftifies them; and, un-
awakened by remoife, the finner proceeds in his courfe, till he wax
bold in guilt, and become ripe for ruin. For by gradual and latent
fteps, the defl:ruclion of our virtue advances. Did the evil unveil itfelf
at the beginning; did the (form which is to overthrow our peace, dif-
cover as it rofe, all its horrours, precautions would more frequently be
taken againft it. But we are imperceptibly betrayed ; and from one
licentious attachment, one criminal pafllon, are, by a train of confe-
quences, drawn on to another, till the government of our minds is irre-
coverably loft. The enticing and the odious pafTions are, in this refpe^l,
flmilar in their procefs ; and, though by different roads, condu£l at
laft to the lame ilfue. David, when he firft beheld Bathflieba, did not
plan the death of Uriah. Haman was not delivered up all at once to
the madnefs of revenge. His paflions rofe with therifmg tide of prof-
perity ; and pride completed what profperity began. What was ori-
ginally no more than difpleafure at Mordecai's difrefped, increafcd
with every invitation he received to the banquet of the Qiieen ; till it
impelled him to deviie the flaughter of a whole nation, and ended in
a degree of rage which confounded his reafon, and hurried him to ruin.
In this manner, every criminal pafllon, in its progrefs, fvvells and black-
ens ; and what was at firft a fmall cloud, fuch as the Prophet's fcrvant
faw, no bigger than a maris hand, rifwgfrom thefea*, is foon found to-
carry the tempeft in its womb.

* I Kings, xvlri. 44. SERMON

( *23 )

SERMON VIIL

On our Igngrange of Good and Evil in this Life.

%

ECCLES. vi. 12. -'V

^/jo hnowMth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his vain Ufe^
which hefpendeth as ajhadow ?

TH E meafure according to which knowledge is difpenfed to man^
affords confpicuous proofs of divine wifdom. In many inftanc-.
fis we clearly perceive, that cither more or lefs would have proved
xletrimental to his ftate ; that entire ignorance would have deprived
him of proper motives to a£lion ; and that complete difcovery would
Iiavc raifed him to a fphere too high for his prefent powers. He i?,
itheretore, permitted to know only in part ; a/id to fee through aglafs, darkly.
He is left in that ftate of conjedlure, and partial information, which.,
though it may occafionally fubjeft him to diftrefs, yet, on the whole»
conduces moft to his improvement ; which affords him knowledge
fufficient for the purpofes ot virtue, and ofa^iive life, without dii^urb-
ing the operations of his mind, by a light too bright and dazzling.
This evidently holds with refpedl to that degree of obfcurity which .
now covers the great laws of Nature, the decrees of the Supreme Be- ,
\n<y, the ftate of the invifible world, the future events of our own
life, and the thoughts and defigns which pafs within the breads of

others *.

But there is an ignorance of another kind, wkth refpefl to which
application of this remark may appear more dubious ; the ignorance
under which men labour concerning their happinefs in the prefent life,
and the means of attaining it. If there be fpundation for Solomon's
complaint in the Text, who hnoweth what is good for man in this life ?
this confequence may be thought inevitably to follow. That the days
of his life muft havain in every fanfe ; not ojily bccaufe they areflect-
iRg, but becaufe they are empty too, like the /Ijadozv. For, to what
purpofe are all his labours in the purfuit of an objedt, which it is not,
ih his power to difeover or afcertain ? — Let us then ferioufly enquire,

what

* nd. Senn. iv.

ff2l On our Jgnomnce of

what account can be given of our prefent ignorance, refpe^ling what
is good for us in this life ; whether nothing be left, but on'y to wan-
der in uncertainty amidft this darknefs, and to lannent it as the fad
confequence of our fallen Rate j or whether fuch inftnidions may not
be derived from it, as give ground for acknowledging, that by this, as
by all its other appointments, the wi{dom^ of Providence brings real
good out of feeming cviL I fhall, in order to determine this point,
•firft, endeavour to illuitrate the dodrine of the Text, That vye know
fiOX, or at moft know imperfedly, zvhat is good for us in this life : I
ihall next explain thecaufes to which this defed in our knowledge is
Ciwing: And then fhall {l:^ow the purpofes which it was intended to
Ictve, and the efFe£ls which it ought to produce on our condu£l.

The vyhole hiftory of mankind Teems a comment on the dodrine of
the Text. When we review the courfe of human affairs, one ol the
firft objects which every where attrads our notice, is, the miltaken
judgment of men concerning their own intereft. li'he fore evil, which
Solomon long ago remarked with refpe£l to nches, of their being kepi
hy the owners ihereof-to their hiirt, takes place equally with refpeil to
dominion and power, and all the fplendid objefts and high Rations of
life. We every day behold rnen climbing, by painful fteps, to that
dangerous height, which, in the end, renders their fa'l more fevere,
^nd their ruin more confpicuous. But it is not to high ftations that
the dG£trine of the Text is limited. In the crimes by which too often
thefe are gained, and in the misfortunes which ihey afterwards bring
forth, the greater part of every audience may think themfelves little con-
cerned. Leaving fuch themes, therefore, to the poet and the hifforian,
|ct us come nearer to ourfelyes, and furvey the ordinary walk of life.

Around us, we every where behold a bufy multitude. ReAlefsand
'Uneafy in their prefent fituation, they are incelTantly employed in accom-
plifhing a change of it; and, as foon as their wifii is fuif^Hed, we dif-
cern, hy their behaviour, that they are as difTatjsficjd as they were be-
fore. Where they expedled ;o have found a paradife, \h&y find a defert.
The man of bufin^fs pines for leifure. l"he leifure for which he had
longed, proves ari i'lkfonie gloom ; and, through want of employment,
he languishes, ric|ccns, and dies. The man of retirement fancies no
ftate to be fo happy, as that of adive life. But he has not engaged lon^
i|n the tumults and contefts of the world, until he finds ca^fe to look back
%vith regret on the calm hours of hisformer privacy and retreat. Beau-
ty, wit, eloquence, and fame, are eagerly defired by pcrfons in every
?ank of hfe. They are the parent's fondef^ wifh for his child; the

ambition

Good and Evil in this Life. 11^

ambition of the young, and the admiration of the old. And yet, in
what numberlefs inftances have they proved, to thofe who poirelFed
them, no other than (hining fnares ; fedu<Sions to vice, inltigations
to folly, and, in the end, fources of mifery? Comfortably might their
days have paHed, had they been lefs confpicuous. But the diftindions
which brought them forth to notice, conferred fplendour, and with-
drew happinefs. Long life is, of all others, the moft general, and fecm-
in^Iy the moft innocent objedl of defire. With refped to this too,
we lo frequently err, that it would have been a blefling to many to
have had their wilh denied. There was a period, when they might
have quitted the ftage with honour, and in peace. But by living too
long, they outlived their reputation ; outlived their family, their friends,
and comforts ; and reaped nothing from the continuance of days,
except to feel the preflure of age, to tafte the dregs of life, and to be-
hold a wider compafs of hqman milery.

Man walketh in a vain Jhovj. His fears are often as vain as his
wilhes. As what flattered him in expectation, frequently wounds hini
in pofTefljon; fo the event to which he looked forward with an anxi-
ous and fearful eye, has often, when it arrived, laid its terrours afide ;
nay, has brought in its train unexpedled bleffings. Both good and evil
are beheld at a diftance, through a perfpei^ive which deceives. The
colours of objects when nigh, are entirely different from what they ap-
peared, when they vvere viewed in futurity.

The fa£t then being undoubtedly certain, that it is common for
fnen to be decived in their profpedts of happinefs, let us next enquire
into the caufes of that deception. Let us attend to thofe peculiar cir-
cumdanccs in our ftate, which render us fuch incompetent judges of
iuture good or evil in this life.

Firft, We are not fufficiently acquainted with ourfclves, to forefee
our future feelings. We judge by the fenfations of the prefent inp-
nient ; and, in the fervour cf defire, pronounce confidently concerning
tlie defired objed. But we reflect not, that our minds, like our bodies,
undergo great alteration from the fituations into which theyare thrown,
and the progreflive ftages of life through which they pafs. Hence,
concerning any condition which is yet untried, we conjedture with
inuch uncertainty. In imagination, we carry our prefent wants, in-
clinations, and fentimcnts, into the ftate of life to which we afpire.
But no fooner have we entered on it, than our fentiments and incli-
nations change. New wants and dcfires arife; new objcdts are re-
quired to gratify themj and by confeqwence our old diflatisfadioa

returns,

■J 26 On our Igmrance of

leturiis, and the void, which was to have been filled, remains as gretl:
^s it was before.

But, next, fuppofing our knowledge of o\irfelves fufficient <o dire(2:
BS in the choice of happinefs, yet ftill we are liable to err, from oiw
Jsnorance of the co nne6lions which iublift between our own conditi-
on and that of oihers. No individual can be happy, unlefs the cir-
eumftanees of thofe around him be fo adjufted as to confpire with his
intereft. For, in human fociety, no happinefs or mifery Aands uncoa-
nedled and independent. Our fortunes are interwoven by threads innu-
merable. We touch one another on all fides. One man's misfortune
or fuccefs, hiswifdom or his folly, often, by its confequences, reaches
through multitudes. Such a fyftem is far too complicated for our
arrar>geiTLent. It requires adjuif ments beyond our fkill and p'ower. It
is a chaos of events, into which our eye cannot pierce; and is capa-
ble of regulation, only by him who perceives at one glance the relati-
on of each to all.

Farther, As we are ignorant of the events wliich will arlfe from the
combination of our circumflances with thofe of others, fo we are equal-
ly ignoran-t of the influence which the prefent tranfaflions of our life
may have upon thofe which are future. The important queftion is
jiot. What is good for a man one day ; but What is gpodfor htm oU the
4ays of his life ? Not, what will yield him a few fcattered pleafures ;
but what will render his life happy on the whole amount ? And is he
able to anfwer that queftion, who knoweth not whattf;i(? day rnny hri^g
forth; who cannot tell, whether the events of it may not branch out
into confequences, which will affume a dire6lion quite oppofite to that
in which they fet forth, and fpread themfelves over all his life to come?
Xhere is not any prefent moment that is unconne£led with fome future
one. The life of every man is a continued chain of incidents, each link
of which hangs upon the former. The tranfition from caufe to effect",
from event to event, is often carried on by fecret fteps, which our fore-
fight cannot divine, and our fagacity is unable to trace. Evil may,
at fbme future period, bring forth good ; and good may bring forth
evil, both equally unexpe6ted. Had the Patriarch, Jofeph, continu-
ed to loiter under his father's fond indulgence, he might have lived
an obfcure and infignificant life. From the pit and the prifon, arofe
the incidents which made him the ruler of Egypt, and the faviotir of
his father's houfe.

Laflly, Suppofing every other incapacity to be removed, our ignorance
of the dangers to which our fpiritual ftate is expofed, would difquali-
fy us for judging foundly concerning our true happinefs. Higher in-

tgrcfts

Gosd and Evil in this Life. f'X'f

Serefts than thofe of the prefent world are now depending. ATI that
is done or (ufFered by us here, ultimately refers to that immortal
world, tor which good men are trained up, under the care of an Al-
mighty Parent. We are as incompetent judges of the meafi.'res iie-
eeilary to be purfued tor this end, as children ar€, of the proper con-
duct to be held in their education. We forefise the dangers of ous
fpiritual, Uill lefs than we do thofe of our natural ftate; b'ccaufe we
are lefs attentive to trace them. We are (till more expolcd to vice
than to mifet-y ; becauie the confidence which we place in our virtue,
is yet worfe founded than that which we place in our wildom.
Can you efteem him profperous, who is railed to a fituation which
flatters his paffions, but which corrupts his principles, diforders his
temper, and, finally, overfets his virtue? In the ardour of purfuit, hovr
little are thefe effeds forefcen? And yet, how often are they accom-
plilhed by a ciiange ot condition i Latent corruptions are called forth;
feeds of guilt are quickened into life ; a growth of crimes a'rifes, whicb>
had it not been for the fatal culture of profperity, would never have
feen the ligiit. How often is man, boaftful as he isof reafon, merely
the creature of his fortune ; formed, and moulded, by the incidents
of his life?^HazaeI, when yet a private man, detefted the thoughts
of cruelty. TbauJlmltJIay the young men with thejword, faid the Pro-
phet : ThouJJmlt dajh the children, and rip up the wotnen with child. Is
thy fervant a dog, replied Hazael, that he Jl)ould do thefe things ? But n3>
fooner was he clothed with the coveted purple, than it feemed to taint
bis nature. He committed the crimes of which, at a diftance, he
believed himfelf incapable ; and became the bloody tyrant, whofe
character his foul once abhored*.

Such then at prefent is man ; thus incapable of pronouncing with
certainty concerning his own good or evil. Of futurity he difcerns
little; and* even that little he fees through a cloud. Ignorant of the
alteration which his fentiments and defires will undergo from new fitu-
ations in life ; ignorant of the confequences which will follow from
the combination of hiscircumftances with thofe of others around hira^
ignorant of the influence which the prefent may have on the future
events of his life ; ignorant of the eife<St which a change of condition
may produce on his moral chara£ter, and his eternal interefls : How
can he know what is good for him all the days of his vain life, which he
fpendeth as a fhudozv ?

Inltead of only lamenting this ignorance, let us, in the laft place,
confider how it ought to be improved ; what dutie? it fuggcHs, ai:^
ivhat wife ends it was intended by Providence to prctnote.

* 2 Kings, viii. 12, 13. I. ,

1^5 On our Ignorance of

I. Let 'this doSrine teach us to proceed with caution and cir-
cumfpedion, through a world where evil fo frequently lurks under the
form ol good. To be humble and modeft in opinion, to be vigilant
and attentive in condud, to diftruft fair appearances, and to reftrain rarti
defires, are inftrudions which thedarknefs of our prefent ftate (hould
(ttongly inculcate. God hath appointed Our fituation to be fo ambii
guous, in order both to call forth the exertion of thofe intelligent pow-
ers which he hath given us, and to enforce our dependence on his
gracious aid. // is not in man that walketh, to direSl hisjieps. Surround-
ed with fo many bewildering paths, among which the wifeft are ready
to ftray, how earneftly Ihould we implore, and how thankfully ftiould
we receive, that divine illumination which is promifed in fcripture to
the pious and the humble ! The f«cret of the Lord is with them that
fearhitn. He will guide them with his counfel. He will teach them the
%vay that they jhould chufe. But what mult be the fate of him, who,
amidlt all the dangers attending human condud, neither lOoks up ta
Heaven for diredion, nor properly exerts that reafon which God hath
given him i If to the molt diligent enquirer, it proves fo difficult a
tafk to diftinguifh true good, from thofe fallacious appearances with
which it is ever blended, how fhould he difcover it, who brings neither
patience nor attention to the fearch; who applies to no other coun-
sellor than prefent pleafure, and, with a rafh and credulous mind, dein
vers himlelf up to every fuggeftion otdcfire?

This admonition I particularly diredlto thofe, who are in a period of
life too often charaderifed by forward prefumption and headlong pur^
fuit. The felfconceit of the young, is the great fource of thofe dan-
gers to which they are expofed \ and it is peculiarly unfortunate, that
the age which ftands moft in need of the counfel of the wife, fhould
be the moft prone to contemn it. Confident in the oppinions which
they adopt, and in the meafures which they purfue, they feem as if
they underltood Solomon to fay, not, fVho knoweth, but, Who is ig-
norant of ivhat is good for man all the days of his life ? The blifs to be
aimed at, is, in their oppinion, fully apparent. It is not the danger
of miftake, but the failure of fuccefs, which they dread. Adivity to
ieize, not fagacity to difrern, is the only requifite which they value.

How long fhall it be, ere the fate of your predecelfors in the

fame courfe teach you wifdom ? How long fhall the experience of alt
ages continue to lift its voice to you in vain ? Beholding the ocean on
which you are embarked covered with wrecks, are not thofe fatal fig-
rals fufficient to admonifh you of the hidden rock ? If, in Paradifeit-
(elf| there was a tree which bare fruit fair to the eye, but mortal in its

efFedts,

Good and Evil in this Ltfe» 12a

tffe^ls, how much more, in this fallen (late, may fuch deceivine appear-
ances be expeded to abound ! The whole Hate of Nature is now become
a fcene oi delulion to the (enfnal mind. Hardly any thing is what it
appears to be. And what flatters mo(f, is always faithefl trom reality.
There are voices wiiich fmg around you ; but whofe (trains allure
to ruin. There is a banquet fpread, where poribn is in every difh.
There is a couch which invites yon to repofe ; but to (lumber up-
on it, is dealh. In (uch a fituation, be not high-minded, but fear. Let fo-
briety temper your unweary ardour. Let modefiy check your ralh
prelumption. Let wifdom be the offspring of refle£lion now, rather
than the fruit of bitter experience hereafter,

IL Let our ignorance (rf what is good or evil, ccrreft anxiety about
worldly luccefs. Asralhnefs is the vice of youth, (he opoofiteextrems
«.'f iinmoddrate care is the vice of advancing years. The dodlrine
which 1 have, liiultrated, is equally adapted for checking both. Since
we are lb often betrayed into evil by the miltaken purfuit of gocd, care
and attention are requi.'ite, both informing u\iv choice, and in condu6l-
ing our purluit ; but fince otir attention and care are liable to be ib of-
ten fruilrated, they ihbuld never be allowed todeprive us of tranquility.

The ignorance in which we are left concerning good and ev^^ is not
fuch as to luperlede prudence in conducl : For wifdom is (till found to
excel f-^ilh aifar as light excellelh darknefs. But it is that degree of unc;-r.>
tainty, which ought to render us temperate in purfuit ; which ought to
calm the perturbation of hope and fear, and to cure the pain of anxiety.
Anxiety is the poiion of human life. It is the parent of many fins, and
ot more miferies. In a w«rld where every thing is fodoubtful ; where
you may fucceed in yoiu wilh, and bs milerable; whe?e you may be diT-
appointed, and be blclf in the dUappointment \ what means this relHefs
ftirand comt^iotion ot mind : Can your folicitude alter the courfe, or un-
ravel the intricacy of human events: Can your curiofity pierce througU
the cloud which the Supreme Being hath m.ade impenetrable to mortal
eye? — To prcv-ide againll every apparent danget, by the employment
of ,the mo(f prom fing in#ans, isthe office of wildom. But at this point
wifdom Kops. Ic commands you to retire, after you have done all t-hat
was incumbent on you, and to ptillefs your mind in peace. By going
beyond liiis point ; by giving yourlelves up to immo'jerate concern about
unknown events, you can do nothing to advance your (uccefs, and yotx
do much to ruin your peace. You pLint within your breafi the thorn
which is long to gall you. To the vanity of life, you add a vexation
of fpirit, which is wholly of your own creation, not ot D-;vine appoinC-

R ment

I -J 9 On our Ignorance of

ment. For the dubious goods of this world vere never defigned hf
God to raife fuch eager attachment. They were given to man for his
occafional refreftiment, not for his chief feHcity. By fetting an excef-
iive value upon objeds which were intended only for your fecondary re-
gard, you change their nature. Seeking more fatisfaftion from them
than they are able to afford, you receive lefs than they might give,
I'rom a miftaken care to fccure your happinefs, you bring upon your-
lelves certain mifery.

III. Let our ignorance of good and evil determine us to follow
Providence, and to refign ourfelves to God. One ot the moft impor-
tant lelfons which can be given to man, is refignation to his Maker ;
and nothing inculcates it more, ihan the experience of his own inabili-
ty to guide himfelf. — You know not what is good for you, in the fu-
ture periods of life. But God pertedly knows it ; and if you faithful-
ly ferve him, you have reafon to believe that he will always confult it.
Before him lies the whole fuccellion of events, which are to fill up your
exirtence. It is in his power to arrange and model them at his plea-
lure ; and fo to adapt one thing to another^ as to fulfil his promife
of making them all work together for good to thofe who love him. Here
then, amidft the agitation of defire, and the perplexities of doubt, is
one fixed point of reft. By tliislet us abide ; and difmifs our anxiety
about things uncertain and unknown. Acquaint yourjelves with God,
and be at peace. Secure the one thing needful. Study to acquire an in-
tereft in the Divine favour; and you may fafely furrender yourfelves to
the Divine adminiftration.

When tempted to repine at your condition, refle£l how uncertain
it is, whether you fhould have been happier in any other. Remember-
ing the vanity of many of your former wifhes, and the fallacy which
you have fo often experienced in your fchemes of happinefs, be thank-
iul that you are placed under a wifer diredion than your own. Be not
too particular in your petitions to Heaven, concerning your temporal
intereft. Suffer God to govern the world according to his own plan ;
and only pray, that he would beftow what his unerring wifdom fees to
be beft for you on the whole. In a word. Commit your way unto the
Lord. Trufl in him, and do good. Follow wherever his Providence
leads ; comply with whatever his will requires; and leave all the reft
to him.

IV. Let our ignorance of what is good for us in this life, prevent
our taking any unlawful ftep, in order to coinpafs our moft favourite

defigns.

Good and Evil in this Llfe^ 1 31

idefigns. Were the finncr bribed with any certain and unqueftiona-
ble advantage ; could the means which he employs enfure his fiiccefs,
and could that fuccefs enfure his comfort; he might have fome apology
to offer for deviating from the path ot virtue. But the dodrine which
I have illuftrated, deprives him of all excufe, and places his folly in the
moit (triking light. He climbs the fteep rock, and treads on the edge
of a precipice, in order to catch a fhadow. He has caufe to dread, not
■only the uncertainty of the event which he wilhes to accomplifh, but
the nature alfo ot that event when accompliflied. He is not only liable
to that difsppointment of fuccefs, which fo often fruftrates all the de-
figns of men ; but liable to a difappointment ftill more cruel, that of
being fuccefsful and miferable at once. Riches and pleafures are the
chief temptations to criminal deeds. Yet thofe riches, when obtained,
may very poflibly overwhelm him with unforefeen miferies. Thofe
pleafures may cut ihort his health and life. And is it for fuch doubt-
ful and fallacious rewards, that the deceiver fills his mouth with lies,
the friend betrays his benefailor, the apoflate renounces his faith, and
the aifanin covers fiimfelf with blood ?

Whoever commits a crime, incurs a certain evil for a moft imcertala
good. What will turn to his advantage in the courfe of his life, he
cannot with any affurance know. But this he may know, with full
certainty, that by breaking the Divine commandments, he will draw
upon his head that difpleafure of the Almighty, which fhall cruHi
him for ever. The advantages of this world, even when innocently
gained, are uncertain blelFings ; when obtained by criminal means,
they carry a curfe in their bofom. To the virtuous, they are often
X\o more than chalT. To the guilty, they are always poifon.

V. Let our imperfeft knowledge of what is good or evil, attach
us the more to thofe few things, concerning which there can be no
doubt of their being truly good. Of temporal things which belong
to this clafs, the catalogue, it mu(^ be confefTed, is fmall. Perhaps the
chief worldly good we fhould wifli to enjoy, is a found mind in a
found body. Health and peace, a moderate fortime, and a few friends,
fum up all the undoubted articles of temporal felicity. Wife was the
man who addrelfed this prayer to God ; Remove far from me vanity
and lies. Give vie neither poverty nor riches. Feed ?ne with food conve-
nient for me. Left / be full and deny thee, and fny, %vho is the Lord} or
hfi I be poor and feel, nnd take the na^ne of my God in vain *. He whofc
wiOies, refp^dling the polleflions of this world, are the moH: reafon-
able aiid bounded, is likely to lead the faieli, and, for that reafon, the

moft
* ^rov, xx\'. 8, 9.

132 On our Ignorame of

l^oft defirable life. By afpiring too high, we frequently mifs thehaP"
pinefs which, by a lefs ambitions aim, v/e migtit have gaineil. High
happincfs on earth, is rather a picture which the imagination forms,
than a reality which man is allowed to poiTefs.

But with rei^ard to fpiiitiial felicity, we are not confined to fuch
humble views. Clear and determinate objects are propofed to our
purfiiit ; and tull fcOpe is given to the moft ardenl defire. 'I he forgive-
nefs of 0L:r fins, and the allillance of God's holy grace to guide our
lite; the improvement of our minds in knowkdi^e and wifdom, in
piety and virtue • the proteftion and favour of the great Father of all,
of the blelfed Redeemer of mankind, and of the Spirit of fanclificati-
on and comfort ; thvcfe are objefts, in the purfuit of which there is no
room for hefitation and diRrull, nor any groiuid for the queftion in my
Text, IVboknoweth what is good for man r Had Providence fpread an
equal obfcurity over happinefsof every kind, we rnight have had fome
reafon to complain of the vanity of our condition. But we are not
left to fo hard a fate. The Son of God hath defcended from hea-
^en, to be the Light of the world. He hath removed that veil which
covered true blifs from the fearch of wandering mortals, and hath
taught them the way which leads to life. Worldly enjoyments are
Ihown to be hollow and deceitful, with an cxprefs intention to di-
rect their afFeaions towards ihofe which are fpiritual. The fame dif-
coveiics which diminiQi the vulue of tlic one, feivc to incrcaie that
of the other. Finally,

VI. Let our ignorance of what is good or evil here below, lead
Our thoughts and defires to a better world. I have endeavoured to
vindicate the wifdom of Providence, by fhowing the triany ufeful pur-
poles which this ignorance at prefcnt promotes. It ferves to check
prefumption and railmcfs, and to enforce a diligent exertion of our ra-
tional powers, joined with a humble dependence on Divine aid. It
jlioderates eager paflions refpefting worldly fucccfs. It inculcates
lefignat -;n to the difpofal of a Providence which is much wifer than
ynan. It reflrains us from employing unlawful means in order to
compafs our moft favomite deiigns. It tends to attach us more
cK'^fely to thofe things wiiich are iinqueffionably good. It is therefore
fuch a degree of ignorance as fiiits the prefent circumfiances of man
tetter than more complete information concerning good and evil.

At the fame time the caufes which render this obfcurity neceffary,
too plainly indicate a broken and corrupted flate 01 human nature*
They f]iovv this life tu bs a lUlc uf triuh They fugs-eft the ideas of

Good and Evil In this Life. $33

3 land of pilgrimage, not of the houfe of reft. Low-minded and bafe
is he-, who afpircs to no higher portion ; who could be fatisfied to
fpend his whole exiftence, in chafing thofe treacherous appearances
ot good, which fo often mock his piirfuit. What lliadow can be more
vain than th,2 life of the greatett part of mankind? Of all that eager
and buftling crowd which we behold on the earth, how lew difcover
the path ot true happinels ! How few can we find, whofe acftivity
has not been mifemployed, and whofe conrfe terminates not in con-
felfions of dilappointmcnts I Is this the fiatci are thefe the habitati-
ons, to which a rational Ipirit, with all its high hooes and great ca-
pacities, is to be limited for ever r — Let us blefs that God who hath
fet nobler profpetts before us ; who, by the death and refiirreftion of
his Son Jefus Chrifi;, hath begotten us to the lively hope of an inheritance
incorrvfllhle, uiidefiled, and that fadetb not azvay, rcferved in the heavens.
Let us Ihow ourfelves worthy of fuch a hope, hy Jetting our affedions
upon the things above, not upon things on the earth. Let us walk by
faith, and not byftght ; and, amidft the obfcurity of this faint and du-
bious twilight, confole ourfelves with the expectation of a brighter
d'ay which is foon to open. This earth is the land of fhadows. But
we hope to pafs into the world of realities \ where the proper ob-
jedls ot human defire Ihail be dilplayed \ where the fubftance of that
blifs fhall be found, whofe image only we now purfue ; where no
fallacious hopes Ihall any longer allure, no fmiling appearances fhall
betray, no infidious joys fhall ffing ; but where truth fhall be infepa-
rably united with pleafiire, and the mifts which hang over this preli-
minary flate being difiipated, the perfect knovvledge of good fhall lead
to the full enjoyment of it for ever.

SERMON

i 13+ )
SERMON IX.

On Religious Retirement.

F s A L M iv. 4.

Commune with your own heart, upon your led, and hej^ill

U C H communing with themfelves there has always been
among mankind; though frequently, God knows, to no purpofej
«r to a purpole worfe than none, Conkl we difcover the employ nents
of men in retirement, how often fbould we find their thoughts occu-
pied with fubjefis which they would be afhamed to own? What a large
■Ihare have anibition and avarice, at forae times thegroITell palTions, and
at other times the raeaneft trilies, in their folitary mufings? They car-
ry the world, with all its vices, into their retreat ; and may be faid ta
dwell in the midft of the wa)rld, even when they feem to- be alone.

This, furely, is not that fort of communing which the Pfalmift re-
commends. For this it not properly communing with our heart, but
rather holding fecret int^rcourfe with the world. What the Pfalmift
means to recommend, is religious recoUedion; that exercife of thought
\vhich is conne6led with the precept given in the proceeding words,
tojiandin awe, and fin not. It is to commune with ourfelves, under the
charaderof fpiritual and immortal beings; and to ponder thofe paths of
eurfeet, which are leading us to eternity. I fhall, in the firft place,
fhow the advantages of fuch ferious retirement and meditation ; and
ihall in the fecond place point out fpme ot the principal fubjeds which
ought to employ us in our retreat.

The advantages of retiring from the world, to commune with our heart,
will be lound to be great, whether we regard our happinefs in this
world, or our preparation for the world to come.

Let us confidcr them, fit ft, with refpefl to our happinefs in this
world. It will readily occur to you, that an entire retreat from world-
ly affairs, is not what religion requires ; nor does it even enjoin a great
retreat from them, Somcftatiqns of life would not permit this; and
there are few (lations which render it necefiary. The chief field, both
of the dury and of the improvement of man, lies in adlive life. By

the

On ReJigtous Rel'tremenf'. 13 ^

the graces and virtues which he exercifes amidft: his fellow-creaUireSj,
he is trained up for heaven. A total retreat irom the world is fo far
from being, as the Roman Catholic Church holds, the perfedion of
religion, that, fome particular cafes excepted, it is no other than the
abuie of it.

But, though entire retreat would lay us afide from the part tor which
Providence chieiiy intended us, it is certain, that, without occafional
retreat, we mult ad that part very ill. There will be neither confiften-
cy in the coiidud, nor dignity in the charader, of one who fets apart
no fliare ot his time for meditation and refledion. In the heat and
bultle of lite, while pallion is every moment throwing falfe colours on
the objeds atound us, nothing can be viewed in a jult light, ll voa
v/ilh tiiat realbn ihould exert her native power, you mult Itep afide
trom the crowd, into thecooland filcnt Ihade. It is there that, witb
lober and Heady eye, (he examines what is good or ill,, what is wife or
icolifh in human conduct j Ihe looks back on the pall, flie looks for-
ward to the luture \ and torms plans, not for the prefent moment only.
but tor the whole of lite. How thould that man diicharge any part oi
his duty aright, who never fuflfers his pailiuns to cool ? And how thould
bis pallions cool, who is engaged, without interruption, in the tumuls
of the world ? This incelfant Itir may be called the perpetual drunkeui
nefs of life. It raifes that eager fermentation of fpirit, which will be
ever fending forth the dangerous fumes of raihnefs and lolly. Where-
as he who mingles religious retreat with worldly affairs, remains calm,
and matter of himfelt. He is not whirled round, and remlered giddy,
by the agitation of the world ; but, from that facred retirement, in
which he has been converfant among higher objeds, comes torth into
the world with manly traquillity, fortified by the principles which ha
has formed, and prepared tor whatever may befal.

As he who is unacquainted with retreat, cannot fuflain any cha-
lader with propriety, fo neither can he enjoy the world with any ad-
vantage. Ot the two claffes of men who are moH: apt to be negli-
gent ot this duty, the men of pleafure, and the men of bufinefs, it is
hard to fay which luffer moft in point of enjoyment from that negle£»r.
To the former, every moment appears to be lofl, which partakes not
of the vivacity of amufement. To conned one plan of gaiety with
another, is their whole Ifudy ; till, in a very ihort time, nothing re-
mains but to tread the fame beaten roimd \ to enjoy what they have al-
ready enjoyed, and to fee what they have often teen. Phafures thus
drawn tc the dregs, become vapid and taftelefs. What might have
pleafedlong, it enjoyed with temperance and mingled with retirement ,-

being

l^i 0« Religious KefirmerJ,

being devoured with fuch eager hafte, fpeedily furfeits snd difguffs.*
Hence, thefe are the perfons, who, after having run through a rapid
courfe of pleafure, after having glittered for a lew years in the fcre-
jnofl: line of public amufements, are the nroft apt to fly at leaft to a me-
lancholy retreat; not led by religion or reafon, but dri\en by difapi...
pointed hopes, and exhaulted fpirits, to the penfive conclufion, that
a/l IS vanity.

- If uninterrupted intercourfe with the world wears out the man of.
pleafure, it no lefs oppreffes the man of bufinefs and ambition. The
ftrongeH: fpirits muft at length fink under it. The happiefl temper
mufi: be foured by incelFant returns of the oppofition, the inconftancy,
and treachery of men. For he who lives always in the buft le of the
' world, lives in a perpetual warfare. Here an enemy encounters ; there
a rival fupplants him. The ingratitude of a friend (lings him this hour;
and the pride of a fuperior wounds him the next. In vain he flies for re-
lief to trifling amufements. Thefe may afford, a temporary opiate
to care \ but they communicate no ftrength to the mind. On the con-
trary, they leave it more foft and defencelefs, when moleftations and in-
juries renew their attack.

Let him who wifhes for an efFeclual cure to all the' wounds which'
the world can infli6l, retire from intercourfe with men to inter-
courfe wjth God. When he enters into liis clofet, and (huts the door;
let him (hut out, at the fame time, all intrufion of worldly care; arid"

dwell among objeds divine and immortal. Thofe fair prof-

')e£ls of order and peace (hall there open to his view, which form"
the muft perfect contraft to the confufion and mifery of this earth.-
The celcliial inhabitants quarrel not; among them there 'is nei-.
ther ingratitude, nor envy, nor tumult. Men may harrafs one a-
nother ; but in the kingdoin of God concord and tranquility reign
for ever. — From fuch objefts there beams upon the mind of the
pious man, a pure and enlivening light ; there is diffufed over his
lieart a holy calm. His agitated fpirit realumes its firmnefs, and regains
its peace. The world links in its importance ; and the load of mor-»
tality and miiery lofes almofl all its weight. The green •pafaires
open, and ihcjiill waters flow around him, befide which the Shepherd
cjF If rael guides his flock. The diftuirbances and alarms, fo formida-
ble to tliofe who are engaged in the tumults of the world, fcem to him
only like thimder rolling afar off; like the noife ot diflant waters,
whofe found he hears, whofe courfe he traces, but whofe waves toncf>
him not; — As religious retirement is thus evidently conducive to ouc
happlnefs in this life, fo,

•In

Oh Religious Retirement. 1 37

■Jn thefecond place, it isabfolutely neceiTary inorc!erfo prepsre usfoC
the life to cotnc. He who lives always in public, cannot live tohisovva
(a\\\. 'the world Iie//j in zvlckecfnefs ; and with good reafon the Chriflian
is exhorted, n'ofio be confQnn:'d to It, hut transformed by the renewing of his
mind. Our converfation and intercourfe with the world, is, in fevera'l
refpefls, an education for vice. From our earlieft youth, we areac-
cullomedto hear riches and honours extolled as the chiet polTcirions of
man; and propofed to us, as the principal aim of our future puiluits.
We are trained up, to look with admiration on the flattering marks ofc
diflinfiicn wliich they bcitov/. In quefi: of thofe fancied blcffings, we
fee the mnlti-tude around us eager and fervent. Principles oi duty, we
may. perhaps, hear fometimes inculcated ; but we feldom behoM
them brought into cotr.petition with worldly profit. The foit names,
and plaufible colours, under which deceit, fenfuality, and levenge, are
prefented to lis in common difcourfe, weaken, by degrees, our natural
fenfe o1 the diil:in61ion between good and evil. We often meet with
crimes authorifed by high examples, and rewarded with the careifes
and fmiles of the world. We difcover, perhaps, at lall, that thole
whom we are taught to reverciKe, and to regard as our patterns of
condiift, a£t upon principles no purer than tfeofe of others. Thus
breathing habitually a contagious air, liow certain is our ruin u-nlcfs
we fometimes retreat from- this pelfilential region, and feek for proper
corredives of thediforders which are contra6led there? Religious re-
tirement both abates the difeafe, and fumitties the remedy, it lelFens
the corrupting influence of the world; and it gives opportunity tor
better principles to exert their power. He v/ho is accuilorned to turn
afide, and commune with himfelf, v/ill, fometimes at leaft, hear the
truths which the multitude do not tell him. A more iound in(lru£lor
will lift his voice, and awaken within the heart thofe latent fuggcftions,
which the world had overpowered and fupprelTed.

The ads of prayer and devotion, the exercifes of faith and repentance,
all the great and peculiar duties of the religion ot Chrift, neceiTarily
fuppofe retirement from the world. This was one chief end of their
inltitution, that they might be the means of occafionaily fequeftering
us from that great fcene of vice and fcily, tlie continued prefence ot
which isfo hurtful. Solitude is the l>.llowed ground which Religion
hath, in every age, chofen for her own. There, her infpiration is lelt,
and her fecret myUeries elevate the foul. There, falls the tear of con-
trition ; there, nies towards :«^^aven the figh of the heart ; there, melts
the foul with all the tendernefs of devotion, and pours itfdf forth be-
iorc him who made, and him who redeemed it. How can any one

138 On Religious Retircmenf,

who is unacquainted with fuch employments of mind, be fit for hea-
ven ? If heaven be the habitation of pure afFe6lions, and of intelledtual
joy, can fuch a ftate be relilhed by him who is always immerfcd among
fenfible objeils, and has never acquired any talte for the pleafures ol the
underftanding, and the heart ?

The great and the worthy, the pious and the virtuous, have ever
been addidled to ferious retirement. It is the charadleriflic of little and
frivolous minds, tobs wholly occupied with the vulgar objects of life.
Thefe fill up their defires, and fupply all the entertainment which their
coarfe apprehenfions can relilh. But a more refined and enlarged mind
leaves the world behind it, feels a call for higher pleafures, and feeks
them in retreat. The man of public fpirit has recourfe to it, in order
to form plans tor general good ; the man of genius, in order to dwell
on his favourite themes ; the philofopher, to purfue his difcoveries ; the
faint to improve himfelf in grace. Ifaac went out to meditate in thefiehhj
at the evening tide. David, amidll all the fplendour of royalty, often
bears witnefs both to the pleafure which he received, and to the benefit
which he reaped, from devout meditation. I communed with my otvn
hearty and my fpirit made diligent fearch. I thought on my ways-, and
turned my feet unto God's teflimonies. In the multitude of thoughts ivithin mc,
his comforts delight my foul. f.)ur bleifed Saviour himfelf, though of all
who ever lived on earth he needed lealt the allillancc of religious retreat,
yet by his frequent praftice, has done it fignal honour. Often were
the garden, the mountain, and the/ilence of the night, lought by him,
for intercourfe with heaven. JVhen he hadfent the multitude away, he
ivent up into a mountain, apart, to pray.

The advantages of religious retirement will ftili more clearly appear,
byconfidering, as was propofed, in the next place, fome of thofe great
obje6l3 which fhould there employ our thoughts. I fliall mention
only three, which are of the mo(t plain and acknowledged importance;
God, the world, and our own charadler.

I. When you retire from the world, commune with your hearts con-
cerning God. Imprefllons of Deity, befides there being the principle
of what is (iridiy termed religion, are the great fupport of all moral
fentiment, and virtuous condu£l, among men. But with what difficul-
ty are they preferved in any due degree of force, amidft the affairs and
avocations c^i the world ? While the crowd of furrounding objeds is
ever rufliing on the imagination, and occi.'pying the fenfes and the heart,
what is not only abfent from view, but, by its nature, invifible, is apt
to vanifh like a Ihadow. Hence it is given as the charader of wicked

incn.

On Religious Retirement. I39

men, in fcriptnre, that they are without Godin the world. They deny
not, perhaps, that he does cxiit ; but it is the fame to them as though
he did not : For having lolt him from their view, his exiftence has no
effecl on their condud. If, at any time, the idea of God rife in their
inind, it rifes like a terrifying phantom which they haften to expel ; and
which they gladly fancy to be unreal, becaufe they fee it make fo little
impreilion on others around them.

Let him who retires to ferioiis meditation, begin with impreding
deeply on his mind this important truth, that there is undoubtedly a
Supreme Governour, who preddes over the univer(e. But let him not
imagine, that to commune with his heart concerning God, is to fearch
into the mydcries of the Divine nature, or to attempt a difcovery of
the whole plan of Providence. Long enough he may bewilder him-
felf in this maze, without makingany proficiency in the practical know-
ledge of God. Shall he who knows fo little of his own nature, or of the
nature of the objects with v/hich he is furrounded, expedl to compre-
hend the Being who made him ? To commune with ourfelves, to any
ufeful purpofe, on this fubjecSt, is to bring home to our fouls the in-
ternal, authoritative fenfe of God, as of a Sovereign and a Father. It is
not to fpeculate about what is myfterious in his elfence, but to contem-
plate what is diiplaycd of his perfe6lions. It is to realize the prefence
of the Supreme Being, fo as to produce the moll profound veneration;
and to awaken the earneft defirc of as near an approach as our nature
will permit, to that great Fountain of happinefs and life.

After this manner was that holy man afFeded, who uttered this ar-
dent* wifh, O that I knew where / ynight find him , that I might come
even to his feat! — If with fuch a frame of mind you (eek after God, be
aflured that he is not far from you ; and that, though you are not per-
mitted as yet to come to his feat, you may, at leaft reach the footftool of
his throne, and touch the robe that covers him. In the midit of your
folitary mufings lift your eyes, and behold all nature full of God. Look
up to the firmament, and admire his glory. Look round on the earth,
and obferve his prefence every where difplayed. If the gay landfcrpe,
or the fruitful field, prefent themfclves to your eye, behold him fmiling
upon his works. If the mountain raife its lofty head, or the expanfe
of waters roll its tide before you, contemplate, in thofe great and fo-
lemn obje£ls, his power and majefly. Nature, in all its diverfities, is
a varied manifeffation of the Deity. If you were to take the wings of
the morning, and dwell in the uttermofl parts ofthefca^ even there yoi|

would
* Joh, xxiii. 3,

t-,0 On 'Religious Rehiement-

would find him. For in him you live and move. He fells and animates
all fpace. In the barren wildernef-, as in the peopled rei^ion, you can
trace his footfteps; a;id in the deepell folitude, you may hear a voice
which teftifies of him.

Him, indeed, yon are never to confound with the workmanfhip of
his hands. Nature in its moft awtul or moft plealing fcenes, exhibits
no m6re than different forms of inanimate matter. But en thele dead
forms is imprefTed the glory of a living fpirit. The beauty, or the
greatnefs, which appears in them, flows iromthe Founiain of all great-
nefs and beauty ; in him it centers ; of his perte^lion it reflcds ao
image; and towaidshim (hould lead your vievt-. — |n converfing v^'iih
a fellow-creature on earth, it is not with his body weconverfe, though
it is his body only which we fee. From his words and adions we con-
ceive his mind ; with his mind, though iuviiibie, we hold correfpon-
iJendc, and dire£l towards this Spiritual ElFence our affediion and regard.
In like manner, though here we behold no more of (jcxi than what his
\\'orks difplay, yet in thofe dilplays, we are capable of perceiving the
pniverfal Spirit, and of holding correfpondence v.'ith this unfeen Being,
in veneration, gratitude, and l')ve.

It io thus that a pious man, in his retired meditations, viewing na-
tura-1 cbjeds with a fpiritual eye, communes with his heart concerning
i^od. He walks among the various fcenes of nature, as witliin the
preciniflls of a great temple, in the habitual exercife of devotion. To
tiiofe diffoveries of the Supreme Being in his works, let him aj">p!y the
('omiYient of his word. From the world of Nature, let him follow
God into x\\t world of Grace. When conduced from the outer courts,
hitothis irittioft fanc^uary of thetenniple, he fliall feel himfelf brought Rill
rnore nigh to the facred Prefence. In the great plan of Divine Wif-
dom, for extirpating the evils produced by fin, he (hall receive the in-
terpretation p{ many of the hidden myfteries of Nature. He Ihall dif_
covet' in Chrifl, the Deity made, in fome degree, vifible to fenfe. ' In
the beneficent works which he performed, and the gracious undertak-
ing which he accompliihed, he fhall behold the hrightnefsofthe Father's
ghrv-_ and fhall difcern it to he full of grace and truth. — Fr(;m the fa-
cred retreat, wherein his thoughts have been thus employed, he returns
to the world like a fuperiour being. He cariies into active life thofe
pure and elevating fenti'ments, to which the giddy crowd areftrangers.
A certain odour of fancliry remains upon his mind, which, for awhile
at leaft, will repel the contagion of the world.

11, Commune with your heart, in the feafon of retirement,

concerning

On Religims Rei'irement. ' t^t

concerning the world. The world is the great deceiver, whofe fal-
lacious arts it highly imports us to deted. But in the midft of its
pleafiues and purfuits, the detedion is impoflible. We tread, as
within an enchanted circle, where nothing appears as it truly is. It
is only in retreat, that the charm can be broken. Did men employ
that retreat, not in carrying on the delufion which the world has be-
gun, not in forming plans of imaginary blifs, but in fubjeding the
happincfs which the world affords to a ftrid difcuilion, the fpell would
dilfolve; and in the room of the unreal profpeds, which had long
amufed them, the nakednels of the world would appear.

Prepare yourfelves, then, to encounter the light of truth. Rcfolvc
rather to bear the dilappointment of lome flattering hopes, than to
wander for ever in the paradife of fools. While others meditate-..!
fecret on the ineans of attaining worldly fuccefs, let it be your em-
ployment to fcrutinize that iuccek itfelf. Calculate fairly to what it
amounts ; and whether you are not lofers on the whole, by your ap-
parent gain. Look back tor this purpofe on your pait life. Trace
it froni your earlieft youth ; and put the queftion to yourfelves, What
have been its happielt periods r Were ihey thofe of quiet and inno-
cence, or thofe ol ai^ibition and intrigue ? Has your real enjoyment
uniformly kept pace with what the world calls profperity ? As you
are advanced in wealth or ftation, did you proportionabiy advance in
happiaels? Has fuccefs, almoft in anyone inltance, fulfilled your ex*
pedation r Where you reckoned upon mort enjoyment, have you not
often found lealt ? Wherever guilt entered into your pleafi;*£s, did

not its (ling long remain, after the gratification was pa(t ? Such

queftions as thefe, candidly anfwered, would in a great meafure un-
malk the world. They would expofe the vanity of its pretenfions ;
and convince you, that there are other fprings than thofe wliich the
world affords, to which you mull apply for happinefs.

While you commune with your heart concerning what the wmlj
now is, confider alfo what it will one day appear to be. Anticipate
the awful moment of your bidding it an eternal farewell. Think,
what refledions fhall moft probably arife, when you are quitting the
field, and looking back on the fccne of adion. In what light will
your doling eyes contemplate thofe vanities which now fliine fo
bright, and thofe interefts which now fwell into fiich high importance ?
Wliat part will you then wiOi to have aded ? What (hall then ap-
pear momentous, what trifling, in human condud ? — -Let the fober
Itntimenis which fuch anticipations fuggefl, temper now your mi{-

placed

14^ On Religious Ret'iremenf.

placed ardoiJT. Let the laft conchifioiis which you fhall form, entef
into the prefent eilimate which you make of the world, and of life.-
Moreover, in communing v/iih youtfclves concerning the world,
conremphte it as fubjed to the Divine dominion. The greater part
oi men hehold nothing more than the rotation of human affairs. They
fee a great crowd ever in motion; the foi tunes of men alternately riL
»!%> and falling ; virtue often didrelfed, and profperity appearing to
fee the purchale of worldly wifdom. But this is only the outfide of
things. Behind the curtain there is a far greater fcene, which is be-
Eield by none but the retired, religious fpeclator. Lift up that curtain, .
when you are alone with God. View the world with the eye of a
Ghridian^ and you fhall fee, that whWe mart's heart devijeth bis way,
k is the Lord who dtre^eth htijleps. You Ihall fee, that however mer»
appear to move and ait after their own pleafure, they are, neverthc-.
IgIs, retained in fecret bonds by the Almighty, and all their operati-
cxns rendered fubfervient to the ends of his moral government. You
iliall behold him obliging the wrath c^man topraije him ; punifhing the
finner by means of his own iniquities ; from the trials of the righte-
ous, bringing forth their reward ; and to a flate of feeming univerfal
eonfufion, preparing the wifeff and moft equitable iffue. While the
fa/hian cf this world is palling faft away, you fhall difcern the glory of
another rifing to fucceed it. You fhall behold all human events, our
griefs and our joys, our love and our hatred, our chara«5ler and our me-
mory, ahforbed in the ocean of eternity ; and no trace of our prefent
cxifl:enc« left, except its being for ever well with the righteous, and ill
with the wicked. — Such a view of the world, frequently prefented to
our minds, could not fail to enforce thofe folemn conclufions; There
rs no wifdom, nor counfel, againjl the Lord. Fear God, and keep his com-
mandments ; for this is the whole of man. What is a man profited, if h^
pall gain the zvhoJe zvorld, and kje his ownJouP.

in. Commune with your heart, concerning yoiirfelves, and your
real chava6ler. To acquire a thorough knowledge of ourfelves, is an
attainment no lefs difiicult than important. For men are generally un-
villing to fee their own imperfedlions ; and when they are willing to
enquire into them, their felf-Iove impofes on their judgment. Their
intercourfe with one another alTifts the delufion to which, of them-
felves, they are prone. For the ordinary commerce of the world is a
commerce of flattery and falfehood; where reciprocally they deceive and
are deceived, where every one appears under an aflTumed form, profef-
fescfleera which he does not feel, and bellows praife in order to receiv«

it.

On Religious Retiremrnt. j j-

it. It is only in retreat where thofe falfe femblances difappear, and
thofe flattering voices are filent, that a man can learn to think Jobcrly of
himjeify and as he ought to think.

It has been faid, that there are three charaflers which every onaii
fiiftains ; and thefe oiten extremely different from one another : One,
which he polFeires in his ownoppinion; another, which he carries ia
the eftimation of the world; and a third, which he bears in thf jtidg-
ment of God. It is only the la(] which afcertains what he really is.
— Whether the chara^er which the world forois of you be above or
below the truth, it imports you not much to know. But it is of eter-
nal confeqiience, that the charader which you poffefs in yonr owa
eyes, be formed upon that which you bear in the fight of God. Ia
order to try it by this great liandard, you muft lay a:ride, as much ^
poflible, all partiality to yourlelves ; and in the feafon of retirement, ex-
pU)re your heart with luch accurate fcrutiny, as may bring your hid-
den defe6ls to light.

Enquire, for this purpofe, whether you be not co.ifcious, that ths
fair opinion which the world entertains of you, is founded on their par-
tial knowledge both of your abilities and your virtues ? Would you ht
willing that all your actions fhould be publicly canvaflcd r Coiiidyoa
bear to have your thoughts laid open ? Are there no parts of your life
which you would be uneafy if an enemy could difcover ? In what light,
then, mufl thefe appear to God ? When you have kept free of vice, has
your innocence proceeded from purity of principle, or from worldly
motives ? Rife there no envy or malignity within you, v/hen you com-
pare your own condition with that of others r Have you been as foli-
citousto regulate your heart, as to preferve your manners from r-eproach?
Proleffing yourfelves to be Chriflians, has the Spirit of Chuft ap'pcaroi
in your conducl: ? Declaring that you hope for immortaliiv, has that
hope fuimounted undue attachments to the prefent life!

Such inveftigation as this.ferioufly purfued, might produce to even-
mail many difcoveries of himfelf; difcoveries, not pleaflufj perhaps t<»
vanity, but falutary and ufeful. For he can be only a flatterer, but n3
true friend to himftlf, who aims not at knowing his own defects qs well
as virtues. By impofing on the world, he may carry on fome plan of
fancied profit ; but by impofing on his heart, what can he propofc to
gain ? He fcedcth on aJJjes : A deceived heart hath turned him ajide, trynf
he cannot deliver his foul, nor Joy, Is there not a lie in my right hand* ?

Thus I have fet before you, fome of thofe great objet'J^s wliicfe
ought to employ your meditation in religious retirement- J have en-

deavourecJ
* IJa. xliv. 20.

1^4 ^'^ Religious Retirement.

deavoured to introduce you into a proper intercourfe with your liearf,
concerning God, the world, and your own charafler. Let this inter-
courfe terminate in fixing the principles of your future condudl. Let
kferve to introduce confiftency into your life. Nofhing can be more
wavering and disjointed, than the behaviour of thofe who are wholly
men of the world, and have never been inured to commune with them-
felves. Diffipation is a more frequent caufe of their ruin, than deter-
mined impiety. It is not fo much becaufe they have adopted bad prin-
ciples, as becaufe they have never attended to principles of any kind,
that their lives arefo full of incoherence and diforder. — You hover on
the borders ol fin and duty. One day, you read the fcriptures, you hear
i^ligious difcoui'fes, and form good refolutions. Next day, you plunge
into the world, and forget the ferious impreflion, as if it had never
been made. The imprefhon is again renewed, and again effaced ;
and in this circle your life revolves. Is fuch conduct worthy of crea-
tures endowed with entelligent povvers ? Shall the clofe of life over-
take you, before you have determined how to live r Shall the day
never come, that is to find you fieady in your views, decided in your
plans, and engaged in a courfe of a£tion which your rttind approves ?
— If you wilh that day ever to arrive, retirement and meditation mull
firft bring you home to yourfelves, from the dillipation in which you
are now fcattered; muft teach you to fix fuch aims, and to lay down
fuch rules of conduft, as are fliitable to rational and innmortal be-
ings. Then will your character become uniform and refpedable.
Then you may hope that your life will proceed in fuch a train as Oiall
prepare you, when it is finifhed, for joining the fociety of more exalted
fpirits.

SERMON

C 145 )

S E Pv M O N X.

On Devotion.

Acts, x. 2.

Cornelius — ; A devout man —

TPI AT religion is eflTential to the welfare of man, C'^n be proved
by the moil convincing arguments. But thefe, how demonftra-
tivc foever, are infuilicient to fupport its authority over human conduct'.
For arguments may convince the underftanding, when they cannot con -
qucr tlie paffions. Irrefiftible they feein in the calm hours of retreat;
but in the fcalon of adlion, they often vanilh into fmoke. There are
other and more powerful fprings, which iniluence the great movetnents
ot the human frame. In order to operate with fuccefs on the ailivc
powers, the heart mud: be gained. Sentiment and affe6lion muR be
brought to the aid of reafon. It is not enough that men believe reli-
gion to be a wife and rational rule ofcondu61, un'efs they rclifh it as
agreeable, and find it to carry its own reward. Happy is the man,
who, in thecondicSt ofdefirebctvveenGodand theworld,can oppofe, not
only argument to argument, but pleafure to pleafure ; who, to the ex-
ternal allurements of fenfe, can oppofe the intern -d joys of devotion ;
and to the uncertain promifes of a dattering world, the certain expe-
rience of that peace of God which pafjeth under/landing, leepwg his mind
and heart. — Such is thetcinper and fpirit of a devout man. Such was
the character of Cornelius, that good centurion, whok prayers and
alms are faid to have come up in memorial before God. Of this characSler I
intend, through Divine adlllance, to difcourfe ; and (hall endeavour,
I. To explain the nature of devotion; II. Tojuflify, and recom-
Cicnd it ; and, III. To rectify fomc iniftakes concerning it.

I. Devotion is the lively cxcrcife of thofeafFe6lions, which vvc
owe to the Supreme Being. It comprehends fevcral emotions of the
heart, which all terminate on the fame great obje<Sl. Tlie chief of
them are, veneration, gratitude, defire, and rcflgnation.

It implies, firff, profound veneration of God. By veneration, I
underfland an affedion compounded of awe and love; the af^vdiuji
which, of all others, it beft becomes creatures to bear towards their

T infiniie'y

H$ 0« Dcvctkn.

ii^.finitely perfcil Creator. Awe is the firf^ fcntlment that rifesin the
loul, at the view of his greatnefs. Bat, in the heart of a devout man, it
js a folemn and elevating, not a dtje£ling, emotion ; for, he glows,
rather than trembles, in the Divine prefcnce. It is not the fupcrftiti-
pus dread of unknown power, but the hocnage yielded by the heart to '
him who is, at once, the greateft, and the bell ot beings. (^Jmnipo-
Jence, viewed alone, would be a formidable objet':!:. But, coniidered
in conjunction with the moral perfedlions of the Divine nature, it fcrves
to heighten devotion. Goodnefs afFe6is the heart with double energy,
when refiding in One fo exalted. The goodnefs which we adore in
him, is not like that which is common among men, a weak, mutable,
lindifceriiing fondnefs, ill qualified to be the ground of ailiired \i\St.
It is the goodnefs of a perfed Govcrnour, avfling upon a regular ex -
tenfive plan ; a fteady principle oi benevolence, conducted by wifdom ;
which, iubjeil to i\o variablcmfs or jh.iJrdc of turnin;^, free from all
partiality and caprice, incapable of being either (ootiied by Haitery or
rufil-'d by refentment, refembles, in its calm and equal luflcr. the
eternal fcrejiiiy of the highefl hcaycps. Thy tncrcy, 0 Lord! is in the
heavens, and ihy fahhfulnejs reacheth unto the cIguJs. Thy rightemfnefs is
like the great mountains, and thy judgments are a great depth.

Such are the conceptions of the great God, which fill wi;h venera-
tion the heart of a devout man. His veneration is not confined to acts
of immediate worOiip. It is the habitual temper of his foul. Not
only when engaged in prayer or praife, but in the fdence of reiire-
jTient, and even amid. t the occupations of the world, the Divine Be-
ing dwells upon his thoiights. No place, ar.J no object, appear to
him void of God. On the vyorks ol Nature he views the impreflim of
his hand ; and in the acSlions of me,n, he traces the opperation of his
Providence. Whatever he beholds on earth, that is beautiful or fair, that
JS great or good, he refers to Go.l, as to the fupreme or'gin of all the
j^Kcellence which is fcattered throughout his works, p'rom thofe ef-
fcfts he rifcs to tl^e f.r.1 caufe. • From thofe ftreanib he afcends to
the fountain whence they (low. By thofe rays he m, Itau to il.i;t
eternal lource of light in which they ce:urs.

Devotion implies, fecondly, fmcere gratitude to God, for all
his benefits. This is a warmer emotion than fmiplc veneration.
Veneration looks up to the Deity, as he is in himfelf ; Gratitude
re»ards'what he is towards us. V/hena devout man furveys this vaf|^
in-iiverfe, vyhere beauty and goodnefs are every where predotninant ;
vhen he refleds on thofe nu.nberlefs multitudes of creatures who,
in their different ftations, enjoy the bleflings of exiftence ; and when
at the fame time he looks up to an Univerfal Father, who hath thus
|illed creation with life and happinefs, his heart glows within him,
: . - ■ . . - - , Jie ■

' On D'votiom Hf

jle adores that difinterefted goodnefs, which prompted the Almighty
to raife up fo many orders of intelligent beings, not that he might
receive, but that he might give and impart ; that he might pour
forth himself, and communicate to the fpirits whi^h he formed, fome
emanations ot his felicity.

The goodnefs of this Supreme Benefactor he gratefully contemp-
lates, as difplayed in his own date. He rcvicv^'S the events of his
life; and in every comfort which has fweetened it, he dilccrns the
Divine hand, Djcs he remember with affe£lion, the parents under
vvhofe care he grew up, and the companions with whom he palfed
his youthi'ui lift: r Is he now happv, in his family rifing around him ;
in the fpoufe wh) loves him, or in the children who give him com-
foit and joy r Int.) every tender remembrance of the part, and every
pleafing enjoyment of the prcfent, devotion enters ; for in ail thofe
beloved obje^s, it recognizts God. The communication of love
from heart to heart, is an effufion of his gooTlnefs. From his infpi-
ration defcends all the friendihip vvliich ever glowed on earth ; and
therefore, to him it juftly returns >ji gratitude, and terminates on
him.

But this life, with all its intcrefls, is but a fmall part of hutnarl
exigence. A devout tnan looks forward to immortality, and difco-
vers dill higher fubjeds of gratitutle. He views himfelf as a guilty
creature, whom fJivine benignity has received into grace ; Vi^hofe
forfeited hopes it has redored ; and to whom it has opened the mofl
glorious profpecls of future felicity. Such generofity {hewn to th*?
fallen and mirerabie, is yet more afFi:6ting to the heart, than favours
conferred on the innoceiit-. He contemplates, with adohifhment,
the labours of the Son of" God, in accomplidiing redemption for men ;
and his foul overflows with ihankfulnefs to him, who loved us, and
zviJJjtd us from our JJks in his own blood. — IVhat jhall I render to the
Lord for all his benefits} B'efs the Lvd, O my fcul ! and all that is
ivithin me, hie fs his h-Jy nam' ; zvho fo'giveth all thine iniquities, and
henleth all thy difeafes ; w^^o rcdeemeth thy life from dejlru^iorit and
CI oune/h thee with luvii)g kir.dnf^, and zvith tender mercies,

Dev^otiox implies, thinily, thedefire of the fonl after the favnnf
ot the Supreme Being, as its chief good, and final re(K To interi.
our enjoyment^, ihcdevot;t man allots infcriour and fecondary attach-
ment. He <lifJaims not every earthly affcdion. He pretends not to
renounce all pleafure in thecoiTiforts of hisprefent ftate. Such an un-
natural retumciation hurnanity forbids, and religion cannot reciuire.
But from thefe he expccls not his fupreme blils. He difcerns the va-
nity which belongs to them all •, and beyond the circlc.oi mutable ob«

jcds

t4S On Devstion.

je6ls which furroiind him, he afpires after fome principles of more
perfedl felicity, which Ihail not be fubjedl to change or decay. But
where is this complete and permanent good to be found ? Ambition
purfues it in courts and pala-'es ; and returns from the purfuit, loaded
with forrows. Pleafure feeks it among fenfual joys ; and retires with
the confeffion of difappointment. The deep faith, it is not in me ; and the
/ea faith, it is not in me. It cannot be gotten for gold ; neither Jhall filver be
weighed for the price thereof. Its place is not in the land of the living.
True happinefs dwells with God ; and from the light of his countenance.
It beams upon the devout man. His voice is, Whom have I in heaven
but thee ? and there is none upon earth that I defire befide thee. After ex-
ploring heaven and earth for happinefs, they feem to him a mighty
void, a wildcrnefs of fliadows, where all would be empty and unfub-
ftantial without God. But in his favour and love, he finds what fup-
plies e\ery defe6l of temporal objects; and aflTures tranquility to hig
heart, amidft all the changes of his exiftence. Thou Jhalt guide meivith
thy counfel ; and thou fnalt receive me to thy glory. AJy fefj and ?ny heart
faileih ; hut God is the Jlrcngth of my heart, and my portion for ever.

From tiiefe fentiments and affedtions. Devotion advances, fourth-
ly, to an entire refignation of the foul to God. It is the confum-
ination of trufl and hope. It banifhes anxious cares and murmuring
thoughts. It reconciles us to every appointment of Divine Provi-
dence ; and refolves every wifh into the defire of pleafing him, whom
our hearts adore. Its genuine breathings are to this ef!e£l : •• Con-
duct me, O God! in what path foever feemeth good to thee. In
nothing fhall I ever arraign thy facred will. Doflthou require me to
part with any worldy advantages, for the fake of virtue and a good
confcience ? I give them up. Doft thou command me to relinquKh
my triends, or my country ? At thy call I cheerfully leave them.
Dofl: thou fummon me away from this world ? Lo ! I am ready to
depart. Thou haft made, thou haft redeemed me, and I am thine.
Myfelf, and all that belongs to me, I furrender to thy difpofal. Let
the men of the 'wox\A\yji\e their portion in this life. Beit mine, to
beheld thy face in righleoufnefs ; and when I aivahe, to be fatisfed with
thy hkenefs."

This, furely, is one of the nobleft afls of which the human mind
is capable, when thus, if we may be allowed the expreflion, it unites
itfelf with God. Nor can any devotion be genuine, which in fpircs
not fentiments of this nature. For devotion is not to be confidcred
as a tranfient glow of afFedion, occafioned by fome cafual imprellions
of divine goodnefs, which are fuffcred to remain unconneiled with
the condufl of life. It is a powerful principle, which penetrates the
fuul ; which purifies the afF^dions from uebafing attachments ; and,

by

On Devotion. 149

by a fixed and rteady regard to God, fubdues every ifinful pafllon/
and fonns the inclinations to piety and virtue.

Such in general are the difpofitions that conftitute devotion. It is
the union of veneration, gratitude, delire. and relignation. It ex-
prefles, not fo much the performance of any particular duty, as the
f'pirit which mult animate all religious duties. It (lands oppofed,
not merely to downright vice ; but to a heart which is cold, and in-
fcnfible to facred things ; which, from compulfion, perhaps, and a
fenfe of intereft, preferves fome regard to the divine coiriniands, but
obeys thtm without ardour, love, or joy. I proceed,

II. To recommend this devout fpirit to your imitation. I be-
gin with obferving. That it is of the utmofl: conftquence to guard
againlf extremes of every kind in religion. We mull beware, Idt,
by feeking to avoid one rock, we fplit upon another. It has been
long the fubjedl of remark, that fuperftition and enthufiafm are two
capital fources ofdelufion; fuperftition on the one hand, attaching
inen, with immoderate zeal, to the ritual and external part of religi-
on; and enthufiafm, on the other, directing their whole attention to
internal emotions, and myflieal commimications with the fpiritual
world ; while neither the one, nor the other, has paid fufficient re-
gard to the great moral duties of the Chriftian life Bar, running
with intemperate eagernefs from thefe two great abufcs of religion,
men have neglcded to obferve, that there are extremes oppofite to
each of them, into which they are in hazard of precipitating them-
felves. Thus the horrour of fuperftition has fometinres reached fo
far as to produce contempt for all external inftitutions ; as if it v^ere
pofTible for religion to fubfiftin the world, without forms of worOiip,
or public acknowledgment of God. It has alfo happened that fome,
who in the main are well affected to the caufe ofgoodneis, obferving
that perfons of a devout turn have at times been carried, by warm
afFc£tions, into unjuflifiable excelfe?, have thence liaftily concluded
that all devotion was akin to enthufiafm ; and f<-parating religion
totally from the heart and afTeflions, have reduced it to a frigid ob-
fervance of v\hat they call the rules of virtue. This is the extreme
which I purpofe at prefent to combat, by fliowing vou, firft. That
true devotion is rational, and well-founded ; next. That it is of the
liighcft importance to every other part of religion and virtue \ and,
laltly, That it is moll conducive to our happinefs.

In the fiifl place, True devotion is rational, and well founded.
It takes its rife from attedions, which are elTential to the hun^aa
irame. We are farmed by Nature, to admire what is great, ar.d

to

irj-c* Oit Dcvstlon.

to love what is amiable. Even inanimate obje6ls tiave pc^;ver tc ex^
cite thofe emotions. The magnificent profpedls of the natural world,
fill the mind with reverential awe. Its beautiful fcenes create delight.
When we furvey the a£lions and behaviour of our fellow-creatures,
the atFedions gl©w with greater sirdoor ; and, if to be unmoved, in the'
former cafe, argues a defe6l of fenfibility in our powers, it difcovers,'
in the latter, an odious hardncfs and depravity in the heart. The ten-
derncfs of an affefticnate parent, the generofity of a forgiving enemy,
the public fpirit of a patriot or a hero, often fill the eyes with tears, ani
fwell the bread with emotions too big tor utterance. The objecl of
thofe affections is frequently raifed above us, in condition and rank,'
Let us fuppofe him raifed alfo above us, in nature. Let us imagine,
fhat an Angel, or any being cf fuperior order, had condefcended to be
6ur friend, our guide, and patrcn ; no perfon, fure, would hold the ex-
altation of his beptfaitoi's character, to be an argument why he
fhould love and revere him lefs. — Strange ! that the attachment and
i'eneration, the warmth and ovenlowing of heart, which excel-
lence and goodneft on every other occaflon command, (hould begin
to be accounted irrational, as foon as the Supreme Being becomes their
objed. For what reafon muff human fenfibilitv be extind tov/ards
him alone ? Are all benefits en'itled to gratitude, except the highefl'
and the heft ? Shall gosdnefs ceaie to be amiable, only becaufe it is
perfea ?

It will, perhaps, be faid, that an unknown and invifible being is not
qualified to raifeaffedion in the human heart. Wrapt up in the myf-
terious obfcurity of his nature, he efcapes our fearch, and affords no de-
terminate objedl to our love or defire. fVe go fonvard, hut he is
not there ; a fid backward, but we cannot perceive him ; on the left hand^
where he wot keth, but we cannot behold him : He hideth hirnjrlf on the
right hand, that we cannot fee him *. Notwithftanding this ob-
fcurity, is there any being in the univerfe liiofe real and certain, thaii
the Creator of the world, and the Supporter ol all exigence ? Is he»
in whom we live and move, too dillant from us to excite devotion ?
His form and effcnce, indeed, we cannot fee ; but to be unfeen, and
imperfecliy known, in many other' inftances, precludes neither
gratitude nor love. It is not the fight, fo much as the ftrong con-
ception, or deep imprelHon, of an objcd, which affeds the paflions.
We glow with admiration of perfoj^ages, v\ho have lived in a diftant
age. Whole nations have been tranfported with zeal and affedion,
ior the generous hero, or public deliverer, whom they knew only by
fame. Nay, properly fpeaking, the dired objed of our love is, ia
every cafe, invifible. For that on which affedion is placed, is the
xnind, the foul, the internal char^dtr of our fellow-creatures ; which,
* Jt/J, xxxhi. 8, 9. furely.

On Devoh'jn. 151

furefy, is no lefs concealed, than the Divine Nature itfclf is, from the
view offenfe. From actions, we can only infer the difpofiaun^ of
men; from what we fee of their behaviour, we coi!e£l what is invi-
fible ; but the conjecture which we form is, at beft, imperfect ; and
when their actions excite our love, much ot their heart remains ftill
unknown. I afk, then, in what refpedt God is lefs qualiiied than
any other being to be an objecft of affection r Convinced that he ex-
ilfs , beholding his goodnefs fpread abroad in his works, exerted in the
government of the world, difplayed in Rjme meafure to fenfe, in the ac-
tions of his Son Jefus Chrift ; are wc not furnilbed with every effenfual
reqiiilite whicli the heart demands, in order to indulge the m jft wc.rm,
and at the fame time the moft rational emotions ?

It thefe cunfidcraiions juftify the reafonablenefs of devotion, as ex-
preiFcd in veneration, love, and gratitude, t!ie fame train of thou^dit
will equally juftif'y it when appearing in the forms of def.re, delight, or
refignation. The latter are, indeed, the cor.fcquence ot the former,
lor ue cannot but defire fjme coiTimunication with what we love;
and will naturally rcfiJn ourfelves to one, on whom we have placed
the full confidence of afFeCtioa. I'he afpirations of a devout man af-
ter the favour of God, are the effeds of that earnefl wifl) for happinefs
which glows in every bread. All men have fomewhat that may be
called the object ol their devotion ; reputation, pleafure, learning, rich-
es, or whatever apparent good has flrongly attached their heart. I his
becoiTies the centre of attraction, which draws them towards it; which
quickens and regulates all their motions. While the menoi the worUlarc
thus influenced by the ob.edts which they fcverally woifhip, flrall he
only wlio directs all his devotion towards the Supreme Being, be ex-
cluded from a place in the fyftem of rational condud ? or be ccnfured
for havmg pafTions, whofe fenfibility correfponds to the great caufe
•which movts them?— Having vindicated the reafonablenefs of devoti-
on, I come,

In the fecond place, to fhow its importance, and the high place
which it poileffcs in the fyftem of religion. I addrefs myfelf no^^ to
thofe, who, though they rejed not devotion as irrational, yet confi-
(ler it as an unnecefTary refinement ; an attainnient which may be fafely
left to reclufe and fequeftered perfons, who aim at uncoir.mon fanany.
The folid and material duties of a good life, they hold, to be in a great
meafure independent of devout afF^dion ; ai;d think them fuflicitntly
fupported, by their neceffary connection with our intereft, both m tli-.s
and in a future World. They infift much upon religion being a calm,

a fober. and rational principle of condud. 1 admit that it is

ve^7 laudable to have a ralioMl reli<iion. But I muit admonifh you.

that

152 On Devotion.

that it is both reproachful and criminal, to have an infenfible heart.
It we reduce religion into focool a Rate, as not to admit love, afFedi-
on, and defire, we ftiall leave it in podeffion of fmall influence over
human life. Look abroad into the world, and obfcrve how few a£l
upon deliberate and rational views of their true intereft. The bulk of
mankind arc impelled by their feelings. They are attraded by ap-
pearances of good. Tade and inclination rule their condud. To
direct their inclination and tafte towards the highelt objedls ; to form
a relifh within them, for virtuous and fpiritual enjoyment ; to intro-
duce religion into the heart, is the province of devotion ; and hence
arifes its importance to the interells of goodnels.

Agreeably to this doftrine, the great Author of our religion, wjio
"weil hiew what ivas in 7nan, laid the foundation of his whole fyflem
in the regeneration of the heart. The change which was to be ac-
complilhed on his followers, he did not purpofe to effe£l, merely by
regulating their external conduft \ but by forming within them a new
nature; by taking r.ivny the heart ojjione, and giving them a heart of
yiejh, that is, a heart relenting and tender, yielding to the Divine im-
pulfe, and readily fufceptible of devout impreffions. Thou fimlt love
the Lord thy God zvith all thy heart, and tnind, and foul, andjirength :
This IS the jitjl and great eonimandment . My Jon, give me thy heart,
is <he call of God to each of us : And, indeed, if the heart be with-
held, it is not eafy to conceive what other offering we can prefent,
tj.iat will be acceptable to hi.n.

Of ■' hat nature mull that man's religion be, who profefiTts to worfliip
God, and to believe in Chrill ; and yet raifes his thoughts towards God,
and his Saviour, withcut any warmth of gratitude or love ? I fpeak not
of thcfe occafiojial decays of pious affection, to which the heft are fub-
yO., but of a total infenribility to this part of religion. Surely let the
outw'ard behaviour be ever fo irreproachable, there muR be fome ef-
fcntial defect in a heart, wb.ich remains always unmoved at the view of
infinite goodnefs. Tiie afFe(5lions cannot, in this cafe, be deemed to
flow in their .natural channel. Som.e concealed malignity mull have
tainted the inward frame. This is not the rnan whom yon would
chufe for yoin- bofom-iricnd ; or whofe heart you could expect to an-
fvvcr, with reciprocal warmth, to yoijrs. His virtue, if it dtferves thit
name, is not of the moft amiable fort ; and may, withreafon, receive
the appellation (often injiidiciouily beftowed) of cold and dry mora-
lity. Such a prrlon mult, as yet, bt far from (he kingdom of Heaven.
As devotion is thus ellcniial to religion in its prici[)le, fb it enters
intoihc proper difcharge of all its duties. Itdiffufes anaufpicious in-
fluence over the whole of virtue. The prevailing temper of the mind
is formad by its molt frecj^ucnl employments. Intcrcourfc with Sit-

picme

Oti Devotion. j ^*

pretne perfection cannot, therefore, but ennoble and improve it. The
pure love of God naturally connedsitfelf with the love of man. Hence
devotion has been often found a powerful inftrumcnt in humanizing
the manners of men, and taming their unruly paffions. It fmooths
what is rough, and foftens what is fierce, in our nature. It is the
great purifier of the aftedions. It infpires contempt of the low gra-
tifications belonging to animal life. It promotes a humble and cheer-
ful contentment with tuir lot ; and fubdues that eager defire of riches
and of power, which has filled this unhappy world with crimes and
mifery. Finally, it beftows that enlargement of heart in the fervice of
God, which is the great principle, both of perfeverance, and of pro-
grefs in virtue. He who, unacquainted with devout afFedions, fets
himfelt to keep the Divine commandments, will advance in obedience
with a How and languid pace \ like one who, carrying a heavy bur-
den, toils to mount the hill. But he whofe heart devotion has warm-
ed, will proceed on his way, cheerful and rejoicing. The one performs
his duty, only becaufe it is commanded ; the other becaufe he loves it.
The one is inclined to do no more than necellity requires ; the other
feeks to excel. The one looks for his reward in fomewhat befides re-
ligion \ the other finds it in religion itfclf : It is his meat and drink to
do the zvill of that heavenly Father, whom he loves and adores. Which
of thefe two are likely to make the greatef^ improvement in good*
nefs, is eafiiy difcerned. Let us now confider,

In the third place, tlie influence of devotion on thehappinefs of life.
Whatever promotes and flrengthens virtue, whatever calms and re-
gulates the temper, is a fource ot happinefs. Devotion, as I have
juft now fhown, produces thofe effeds in a remarkable degree. It
infpires compofure of fpirit, mildnefs, and benignity; weakens the pain-
ful, and cherifhes the pleafing emotions ; and, by thefe means, car-
ries on the life of a pious man, in a fmooth and placid tenour.

Eefides exerting this habitual influence on the mind, devotion
cpens a field of enjoyments, to which the vicious arc entire (tran-
gers ; enjoyments the more valuable, as they peculiarly belong to re-
tirement when the world leaves us, and to adverfity when it becomes
oiir foe, Thefe are the two feafons, for which every wife maa
would mofl wifh to provide fome hidden ftore of comfort. For let
him be placed in the moft favourable fituation which the human ftate
admits, the world can neither always amufe him, nor always fhield
him from diftrefs. There will be many hours of vacuity, and many
of dejection, in his fife. If he be a ftranger to God, and ta
devotion, how dreary will the gloom of folitude often prove ? With
what opprefTive weight will ficknefs, difappointment, or old age, fall

U upon

t^^ OnDtvjt'ion.

upon his fpirits ? But, for thofe penfive periods, the pious- man has a
relief prepared. From the tirelome repetition of the common vani-
ties o\ lite, or from the painful corrofion ot its cares and forrows^
devotion tranfports him into a new region ; anci furrounds him there
ivith fuch objeds, as are the moft fitted to cheer the dejedion, to
calm the tumults, and to heal the wounds of his heart. If the
world has been empty and deiufive, it gladdens him with the prof-
pedl of a higher and better order of things, about to anfe. It mea
have been ungrateful and bafe, it difplays before him the faithfulnefs
of that Supreme Being, who, thougli every other friend fail, will
never iorfake him. Confult your experience, and you will find, that
the two greatelt fources of inward joy are, the exeicife of love dire6t-
ed towards a deferving objed, and the exercife of hope terminating
on fome high and alfured happinets. Both thefe are fupplied by de-
votion ; and therefore we have no reafon to be furprifed, if, on fome
occafions, it fill the hearts of good men with a fatisfa£lion not to
be exprelTed.

The refined pleafures of a pious mind are, in i^any refpedls, fupe-
riour to the coarfe gratifications oi fenfe. They- are plcaliires) which
belong to the highelf powers, and beft atFedfions of the foul \ where-
as the gratifications of fenfe refide in the loweft region of our na-
ture. To the one, the foul floops below its native dignity. The
other, raife it above itfelf. The one, leaves always a comfortlefs,
often a mortifying, remembrance behind them. The other, are re-
viewed with applaufeand delight. The pleafures of fenfe refcmble a
foaming torrent, which after a diforderly courfe, fpeedily runs out,
and leaves an empty and ofFenfive channel. But the pleafures of de-
votion refemble the equable current of a pure river, which enlivens
the fields through which it palTes, and difFufes verdure and fertility a-
king its banks. To thee, O Devotion ! we owe the higheft im-
provement of our nature, and much of the enjoyment of our life.
Thou art the fnpport of our virtue, and the refl; of our fouls, in this
turbulent world. Thou compofeft the thoughts. Thou calmell
the pafTions. Thou exaltefl the heart. Thy communications, and
thine only, are imparted to the low, nolefs than to the high ; to the
poor .13 well as to the rich. In thy prefence, worldly difiindlions
ccafe ; and under thy influence, worldly forrows are forgotten.
Thou art the balm of the wounded mind. Thy fanduary is ever
open to the miferable ; inaccelTable only to the unrighteous and im-
pure. Thou beginnefl on earth, the temper of heaven. In thee,-
the hofts pf angels and bleffcd fpirits eternally rejoice. It now re-
main?.

Ill,

On Devotion. 15^

III. To endeavour to correfl fome errors, into which men are apt
to fall coiKerning devotion. For it is but too obvious, that errors are
often committed in this part of religion. Thefe frequently disfigure
its appearance before the world, and fubjedl it to unjuft reproach.
Let us therefore attend deliberately to its nature, fo as to difVmgiiifh
pure and rational devotion, of which I have hitherto treated, IVuni
that which is, in any degree, fpurious and adulterated.

In the firft place. It is an error to place devotion in the mere per-
formance of any external a<9: of worfhip. Prayer and praife, toge-
ther with the ordinances peculiar to theChriftian religion, are the ap-
pointed means of raifing the heart towards the Supreme Being. They
are the inlUtuted figns of devotion; the language in which it natural-
ly exprelfes itfelf. But let us remember, that they are (igns and ex-
prellions only \ and we all know, that in various cafes, thefe may not
correfpond to the thing (jgnified. It is in thedifpofition of the heart,
not in the motion oi the lips, or in the pofture of the body, that devoti-
on confifts. The heart may pray or praife, when no words are ut-
tered. But if the heart be unconcerned or ill afFeded, all the words
we can utter, how properly framed foever, are no other than empty
and unacceptable founds in the ear of the Almighty.

In the fecond place, It is an error to conceive the pleafures and ad-
vantages of devotion, to be indifcriminatelyopen to all. Devotion, like!
many parts of religion, m.ay in fome lights be confidered as a privilege,
and in others as a duty. It is the duty of all, to love God, and torelign
theinfelves to his will. But it is the privilege of good men only, to re-
joice in God, and to confide in his frienddiip. Hence a certain pre-
paration is requifite, for the enjoyment of devotion in its whole ex-
tent. Not only muft the life be reformed from grofs enormities, but
the heart muft have undergone that c hange which the Gofpel demands.
A competent knowledge of God mult be acquired. A proper founda-
tion muft be laid in faith and repentance, for intercourfe with Hea-
ven.

They who would rufli all at once from the arms of the world, into
the facred retreat of devotion ; they who imagine that retreat to ttand
always ready forthereception offuch as betake ihemlelves toit, for no
reafon, but becaufe every other refuge excludes them, betray grofs ig-
norance of this part of riligion. They bring to it, faculties unqualifi-
ed to tafle its pleafures ; and they grafp at hopes, to which they are not
entitled. By incorporating with devotion the unnatural mixture ot
their unfan£lified paffiops, they defile and corrupt it. Hence that
gloom which has often fpread over it. Hence ihofe fupcrftitious mor-
tifications and auftcrities, by which the falfely devout hope to pur-
chafe

15^ On Devotion.

chafe favour from God ; haunted by the terrors of a guilty confcience.
and vainly ftruggling to fubftitute a fervile and cringing homage, in
the room of the pure afFeclions of a renewed heart. On fuch altars,
the hollowed fire of true devotion cannot burn ; nor can any incenfe
afcend from them, that fhall be grateful to Heaven. Britjg no more
vain oblations. J'Fa/}) ye, make you clean, put away the evil of your doings
from before mine eyes, faith the Lord. Ceafe to do evil ; learn to do well.

1 hen draw nigh to God, and he will drazp nigh to you. But though

devotion requires a pure heart, and a virtuous life, and neceifarily fup-
pofes the exercifeof frequent retirement, I muftobferve.

In the third place, That it is,an error to conceive it as requiring ai}
entire retreat from the world. Devotion, like every other branch of
religion, was intended to fit us for difcharging the duties ot life. Wc
ierve God, by being ufeful to one another. It is evident from the
frame of our nature, and from our common necefliiies and wants,
thsit we were defigned by Providence for an adive part on this earth.
The Gofpel of Chrift, accordingly, confiders us as engaged in the con-
cerns of the world ; and diredls its exhortations to men, in all the va-
rious relations, charaders, and employments of civil life. Abftrac-
tion from fociety, therefore, and total dedication of our time todevout
exercifes, cannot be the moll proper method of acquiring the favour
of God.

I mean not, however, to throw any blarne on thofe, who having
loft all relifh for the ordinary purfuits of life, in confequence of fevere
wounds which they have received from afflidion ; who, being left to
ftand alone, and difccrning their connexions with the world to be m
fome mcafure broken off, choofe to feek tranquility ina riligious retire-
Jiient, and to confecrate their days entirely to God. Situations fome'
times occur, which both juftify a great degree of retreat from the world,
^ndentitle it to refpect. Butwith regardto the bulk of mankind, Chrif-
tian devotion neither requires norirnplies any fuch fequeflration from
the affairs of men. Nay, for the mofl part, it will be cultivated with
greater fuccefs, by thofe who mingle it with the adive employments
of life. For the mind, when entirely occupied by any one objed, is
in hazard of viewing it at lad through a falfe medium. Objeds, ef-
pecially, fo great and fublime as thofe of devotion, when we attempt
to fix upon them unremitting attention, overftretch and diforder our
feeble powers. The mind, by being relaxed, returns to them with
more advantage. As none of our organs can bear intenfc fenfations
without injury \ as the eye, when dazzled with overpowering light,
l)eholds imaginary colours, and loofes the real diftindion of objeds^
fg the mind, when overheated by perpetu:il contemplation of ce-

leflial' ■

On Devotion. t%«'

Hertial things, has been fometimes found to mlHake the ftrong imprcf-
Cons of fancy, for fupernatural communications from above. To the
employments of devotion, as to ail other things, there are due limits.
There is a certain temperate fphere, within which it prelerves longeft
its proper exertion, and molt fuccefsfully promotes the purpofes for
which it was defigned.

In the fourth place, It is an error to imagine, that devotion en-
joins a total contempt of all the plealures and amufements of humaa
fpciety. It checks, indeed, that fpirit ot di/Iipation which is too pre-
valent. It not only prohibits pleafures which are unlawful, but like-
wife that unlawful degree of attachment to pleafures in themltlves
innocent, which withdraws the attention of man Irom what is ieri-
ous and important. But it brings amufement under due limitation,
without exterpating it. It forbids it as the bufinefs, but permits it
as the relaxation, of life. For there is nothing in the fpirit of true
religion, which i;3 hoflile to a cheerful enjoyment of our Tituation ia
the world.

Thev who look with a fevere and indignant eye upon all the re-
cjeations by which the cares of men are relieved, and the union of
fociety is cemented, are, in too refpeds, injurious to religion. Firft,
they exhibit it toothers imder a iorbidding form, by clothing it with
the garb of fo much unneceffary auiterity. And next, they deprive
the world of the benefit which their example might afford, in draw-
ing the line between innocent and dangerous pleafures. By a tem-
perate participation of thofe which are innocent, tliey might fuccefs-
fully exert that authority, which a virtuous and refpedabie charac-
ter always pofltfTes, in jreftraining undue excefs. They would fiiow
the young and unwary, at what point they ought to ftop. They would
have it in their power to regulate, in fome degree, the public man-
ners ; to check extravagance, to humble prefumption, and put vice
to the blufh. But, through injudicious feverity, they fall Ihort of
the good they might perform. By an indifcriminate cenfure of all
amufement, they detradl from the weight of their reproof, when
amufement becomes undoubtedly finful. By totally withdrawing
themfelves from the circle of cheerful life, they deliver up the enter-
taininents of fociety, into the hands of the loofe and the corrupted ;
and permit the blind power of. fafhion, uncontrolled, to ellablifli its
own ftandards, and to exercife its dangerous Avay over the world.

In the fifth place, It is an error to believe, that devotion nourifhes
a fpint of feverity, in judging of the manners and charadcrs of others.
Under this reproach, indeed, it has folong fuffcrcd in the world ; that,

with

T^S ■ On Devotion,

■with too many, the appellation of devout, fuggefls no other charafSter,
&ut that of a four reclufe bigot, who delights in cenfure. But the re-
proach is unjuft; for fuch a fpirit is entirely oppolite to the nature of
true devotion. The very firft traces which it imprints on the niimi, are
candour and hun^ility. Its principles are liberal. Its genius is unaf-
funiing and mild. Severe only to itfelf, it makes every allowance for
others which humanity can Aiugeft. it claims no privilege of look-
ing into their hearts, or of deciding with refped to their eternal (late,
— If your fuppofed devotion produce contrary efFeds ; if it infufe harfli-
Defs into your fentiments, and acrimony into your fpeech j you may
eonchide, that under a ferious appearance, carnal paflions lurk. And,
iiever it fhall fo far lift you up with felf-conceit as to make you ef-
tablilhyour own opinions as an infallible ftandard for the whole Chrilti-
3n world, and lea 1 you to confign to perdition, all who differ froni
joti, either in fome doctrinal tenets, or in the mode of exprefling them ;
you may reft affured, that to much pride you have joined much igno-
rance, both of the nature of devotion, and of the Gofpel ot Chnft.
Finally,

In the fixih place, It is an error to think, that perpetual rapttire
and fpiritual joy belong to devotion. Devout feelings admit very dif-
ferent degrees of warmth and exaltation. Some perfons, by the frame
of their minds, are much more fufceptible than others of the tender
emotions. They more readily relent at the view of divine goodnefst
glow with a warmer ardour or love, and, by confequence, rife to a high-
er elevation of joy and hope. But, in the midft of f^ill and calm af-
fedions, devotion often dwells ; and, though it produce no tranfports
in the mind, diffufes over it a fteady ferenity. Devout fenfations not
only vary in their degree according to the frame of different tempers j
but, even among the beft difpofed, fufFer rnuch interruption and de-
cay. It were too much to expect, that, in the prefent ftate of hu-
man frailty, thole happy feelings fhould be uniform and conftant. Op-
preilion of worldly cares, languor of fpirits, and infirmities of health,
frequently indifpofe us for the enjoyment of devout afFedlions. Pious
men, on thefe occafions, are in hazard of palling judgment on iheir
own ftatc with too much feverity ; as if, for fome great iniquity, they
were condemned by God to final haF.dnefs of heart. Hence arifes that
melancholy, which has been feen to overcloud them ; and which has
given occafion to many contemptuous feoffs of ungodly men. But it
is a melancholy which defervestobe treated with tenderncfs, not witfi
contempt. It is the excefs of virtuous and pious fenfibility. It is the
overflowing cf a heart aiftclcd, iu an extreme degree, with the hum-
ble

On Devotion. l<f^

ble fenfe of its own failings, and with ardent concern to attain the fa«
vour of God. A weaknefs however, we admit it to be, though not
a crime ; and hold it to be perfedtly feparable from the elFcnce of de-
votion. For contrition, though it may melt, ought not to fuik or
overpower the heart of a Chrilfian. The tear of repentance brings
its own relief. Religion is a fpring of confolation, not of terrour, t©
every well-intormed mind, which, in a proper manner, refts its hope
on the infinite goodnefs of God, and the all-fufficient merit of Chrilt«

To conclude, Let us remove from devotion all thofe miftakes., to
which the corruptions of men, or their ignorance and prejudices, have
given rife. With us, let it be the worfliip of God, wjpirit and in truihi
the elevation of the foul towards him in fimplicity and love. Let us
purfueitasthe principle of virtuous condudl, and of inward peace, -by fre-
quent and ferious meditation on the great objects of religion, let us
layourfelves open to its influence. By means of the inllitutions of
theGofpel, let uscherifh its imprefHons. And, above all, let us praj
to God, that he may ellablifli its power in our heart. For here, if
any where, his afTiffance is requifite. The fpirit of devotion is his gift.
From his infpiration it proceeds. Towards him it tends ; and in h®
prelence hereafter^ it Ihall attain its full perfcdion.

SERMON

f i6o )

S E R M O N XI.

On tht D u T I E s of the Y o u n g.

Titus, ii. 6.

Toiwg men Uhiuijc exhort, to he foher-m'indsd.

SOBRIETY of mind is one of thofe virtues which thrf
prefent condition of human life flrongly inculcates. The
uncertainty of its enjoyments checks prefumption ; the multiplicity
©f its dangers demands perpetual caution. Moderation, vigi-
lance, and felf-government, are duties incumbent on all ; but efpe-
GJally on fuch as are beginning the journey of life. To them, there-
fore, the admonition in the Text is, with great propriety, direded ;
though there is reafcn to fear, that by them it is in hazard of being
leaft regarded. Experience enforces the admonition on the moft giddy,
after they iiave advanced in years. But the whole ftate of youthful views
and pallions is adverfe tolobriety of mind. The fcenes which prefent
themfelves, at our entering upon the world, are commonly flattering.
Whatever ihey be in themfelves, the lively fpirits of the young gild eve-
ry opening profpedl. The field of hope appears to rtretch wide before
them. Pleafure feems to put forth its blolfoms on every fide. Im-
pelled by defire, forward they rulh with inconfiderate ardour : Prompt
to dei::ide, and to choofe ; averfe to hefitate, or to enquire; credulous,
becaufe untaught by experience ; ralh, becaufe unacquainted with
danger; headffrong, becaufe unfubdued by difappointment. Hence
arife the perils, of which it is my defign at prefent to warn them. I
iliall Xzktjobriefy of mind, in its moft comprehenfive ienfe, as includ-
ing the whole of that difcipline which religion and virtue prefcribe to
youth. Though the words of the Text are diredy addreifed to young
men, yet, as the fame admonition is given in a preceding verfe to the
other fex, the inffrudions which arife from the Text arc to be con-
fidered as common to both. I intend, firft, to fhow them the im-
portance of beginning early to give lerious attention to their condud;
and, next, to point out thole virtues which they ought chiefiy to cul-
tivate.

As

On fhe Duties i5f

As foon as you arc capable of refledion, you. miiii perceive that
fhere is a right and a wrong in human adions. You fee, that tho/e
who are born with the fame advantages of fortune, are not all cqiial-^
Iv profperous in the courfe of life. While fome of them, by wife anj
Ht-ady conduct, attain diflinclion in the world, and pafs their days
\\ith comtoit and honour; others of the fame rank, by mean and vi-
cious behaviour, forfeit the advantages of their birtli, involve thcnifelves
In much mifery,- and end in being a difgrace to their friends, and a
bindtn on fucieiy. Eaily, then, yon may learn, that it is not on the
external condition in which you find yoUffelves placed, but on the
part which you are to zdi, that your welfare or unhappinefs, your
{lonotu- or infamy, depend. Now, v/hen beginning to a£l that part,
\vhar can be fit greater moment, than to regulate your plan of con-
du6t with the moil ferious attention, before you have yet committed
any fatal or irretrievable errors!' If, inflead of exerting refleillion for
this valuable purpofe, you deliver yourfelves up, at fo critical a time
to floth and pleafure; if you refufe to liften to any counfellor but hu-
mour, or to attend to any purfuit except that of amufement ; if you
allow yotnftlves to float loofe and'carelefs on the tide ot life, ready to
rbceive a'ny diie£iion which the current of fafhion may chance to give
you, wiiat can you exped to follow from fuch beginnings? V/hile fo
many around you are undergoing the fad confequences of a like indif-
cretion, for wha't reafoii fhall not thofe confcquences extend to' you ?
^hall yon attain fuccefs without that preparation, and efcape dangers
without that precaution, which is required of others r Shall happinefs
grow up to you, of its own accord, and folicit your acceptstrrce, when^
to the refl of mankind", it is the fruit of long cultivation, n-nd the ac-

quifitinn ot labour and care ? Deceive not yourfelves with fucll

arrogant hopes. Whatever be vour rank, Providence will not, for your
fake, revcrfe its cRabridied order. The Author of your being hathi
eiijoined you to tale heed to your zvnys ; to ponder the pnths of your feet •
to rememher your Creator 'm the days of your youth. , He hath decreed,
that they only il ho feck afer wfdom, JheiH find it ; th:it fools fimll he of--
f'iclcd, hecaufe of their trnrfgrefjiom : and that ivhofo refufeth inflru^l-
ou fhall deftroy his oiunful. By liflening to thefc admonitions, and
tempering the vivacity of youth with a proper mixture of ferious -
thon^ht, youmay enfure cheeifidnefs f>r the red of life ; but by de-
livering yourfelves iij) at prcfent tr> giddincfs andkvity, you lay the
fi>nn.'ation of lalling hcavinefs of heart.

When you look forward to thofe p'ans of life, which either
yonvciicumflancc<^ have fugi^efted, or your frunds have propofed, yoti
will i.ot hefuate to x^.-knowt^dgc, that in order to puifue them witfi

■\Y' advan-

1 62 of the Toioig.

advantage, fome previous difclpVnie is req\iiiite. Be affured, .tha'i
Avhatever is to be your profe'ifion, no education is more neceffary to
yotir fuccefs, than the acquirement of virtuous difpofitions and ha-
bits. This is the univerfal preparation for every chara£ler, and every
ilation in life. Bad as the world is, reipedl is always paid to virtue.
In the ufual conrfe of human affairs, it will be found, that a plain
underftanding joined with acknowledged worth, ccntriiDutes more to
profperity, than the briohtefi; parts without probity or honour. Whe-
ther fcience, or bufinefs, or public life, be your aim, virtue flill en-
ters, for a principal iTiare, into all ihofe great departments of focie-
I'y. It is conne6led with eminence, in every liberal art \ with repu-
tation, in eveiy branch of fair and ufeful bufinefs ; with di{lin6tion,
i-n every public (iation. The vigour which it gives the mind, and the
weight which it adds to charaftcr; the generous fcniiments which it
t)reathes, the undaunted fpirit which it infpires, the ardour of dili-
gence which it quickens, the freedom which it procures from perni-
eious and dilhonour'able avocations, are the foundations of all that is
high in fame, or great in fuccefs, among men.

Whatever ornamental or engaging endowm.ents you now poirefs,
virtue is a necelTary requifite, in order to their fhinging with proper
lurtr(3. Feeble are the altradions of the f'aireft form, if it be fufpecl-
ed that nothing within correlponds to the pleafing appearance without.
Short are the triumphs of wit, when it is fuppofed to be the vehicle
of malice. By whatever arts you may at firft attra£l the attention,
you can hold the efteem, and fecure the hearts of others, only by a-
miable difpofitions, and the accomphOiments of the rnind. Thefe
are the qualities whofe iniiuence wili lafl, wheii the luftre of al! that
once fparkled and dazzled has palTed away.

Let not then the feafon of youth be barren of improvements fo ef-
fcntial to your future felicity and honour. Now is the feed-time of
life i and according to If /WjiJM/itf, ym Jhall reap. Your chara£ler
is now, under Divine auiftance, of your own forming ; your fate is,
in fome meafure, put into your own hands. Your nature is as yet
pliant and foft. Habits have not ellablilhed their dominion. Preju-
dices have not pre-occupied }our underfianding. The w'orld has not
had time to contra£l and debafe your afFcdior.s. All your powers
are more vigorous, difeinbarraflcd, and free, than they will be at
any fii'ure period. .Whatever impulfe you now give to your defires
and paifions, the diredion is likely to continue. It will form the
channel in which your life is to run i nay, it may determine its ever-
lafting ilfue. Confider then the employment of this important period, as
tke higheft truft which fliall ever be comniitted to you j as, in a great.

meafure

On the Duties l5;2

n^pafiire, decifive of your happinefs, in time, and in eternity. Asia
the riicceffion of the i'eafons, each, by the invariable laws of Nature,
affects the produdions of what is next in courfe ; fi, in human life,
every period of our age, according as it is well or ill i'pent, inducnces
the happinefs of that which is to follow. Virtuous youth gradually
brings forv/ard accompliflied and flouriihing manhood \ and Ibch
manhood palfes of itfelf, without uneafinefs, into rcfpedable and
tranquil old age. But when nature is turned out of its regular courfe,
diforder takes place in the moral, jufl as in the vegetable world.
If the Spring put forth no bloirt)ms, m Sunimei there will be no beau-
ty, and in Autumn no fruit. So, if youth be trifled away without
improvement, manhood will be contemptible, and old age miferable.
Jf the beginnings of life have been var.iij. Us latter end can be no q-
tlier than ycxaiion of fpirit.

Having thus fliown the importance of beginning early to give ferions
attention to condud, I come, next, to point cut the virtues which
9re mort necelfary to be cultivated in youth. What I Hial!,

I. Recommend, is piety to God. With this I begin, both as
the foundation of good morals, and as a difpofition particularly grace-
ful and becoming in youth. To be void of it, argues a cold heart,
deditute of fome of the beft afleclions which belong to that ac^e. Youth
is the feafon of warm and generous errjotions. The heart Ihould then,
fpontaneoufly, rife into the admiration of what is great, glow
with the love of what is fair and e?ycellent, and melt at the difcovery
of tendernefs and goodnefs. Where can any objed be found, fo pro-
per to kindle thofe affcdions, as the Father of the univerfe, and the
Author of all felicity .? Unmoved by veneration, can you contemplate
that grandeur and rnajefty, which his wofks every where difplay ?
Untoucfied by gratitude, can you view that profufion of good, vvliich.
in this pleafing feafon of life, his beneficent hand pours around you ?
Happy in the love and affeilion of thofe with whom you areconned-
ed, look up to the Supreme Being, as the infpirer of all the friend-
Ihip which has ever been fliovvn you by others ; himfelf, your beU and
your firft friend ; formerly, the fupporter of your infancy, and the guide
of your childhood; now, the guardian of your youth, and the hope
of your coming years. View riligious homage, as a natural expreflion
of gratitude to him for all his goodnefs. Confider it as the fervice of
the God of your fathers ; of him, to whom your parents devoted you ;
of him, whom in former ages your anceftors honoured ; and bv whom
they are now rewarded, and bleffed in heaven. Connedcd with fo
many tender fen.^ibilities of foul, let religion be with you, not the cold

and

1 6^ (f the Ygiing.

and barren offspring of fpeculation, but the warm and vigoroiis dic-
tate of the heart.

But though piety chiefly belongs to the heart, yet the aid of the wn-
derftanding is requifite, to giye a proper dirc*51ion to the devout afi'ec-
tions. You muit endeavour, thereloie, to acquiie jull views, both
of the great principles of natural religion, and ot the peculiar doctrines
of the Gofpel. For this end {liidy the lacred Icripiures. Conult the
word of God, more than the fyflems of men, if you Wi-uld know the
truth in its native purity. When, upon rational and fober enquiery,
you have eftablidied your principles, fufFer them not to be Ihaken by the
feoffs of the licentious, or the cavils ot the Iceptical. Remember, that
in the examination of every great and compreheniive plan, fuch
as that ot Chriftianity, difficulties may be expected to occur; and
that reafonahle evidence is not to be rejeded, becaufe the nature of
our prefent date allows us only to knoiv in part, and fee through agh'fs,
darkly.

Imprefs your minds with reverence for all that is facred. Let nq
■u'antonnefs, of youthful fpirits, no compliance with the intemperate '
rniith of others, ever betray you into prophane faliies. Befides the
guilt which is there by incurred, nothing gives a more odious appear-
ance ef-petuiance and prefumption to youth, than the afTeclation of
treating religion with levity. Inrtead of being an evidence of fnpe-
riourunderlianding, it difcovers a pcrtand Ihallow mind ; vviiich, vain
of the firft fmatterings of knowledge, prefumes to inake light of what
the reft of mankind revere.

At the fame time you are not to imagine, that when exhorted to be
religious, you are called upon to become more formal and folemn in
your inanners than others of the fame years, ur to ere6t yourft-Jves in-
to fupercilious reprovers of thofe around you. Thc^ fpirit of true
religion breaths gentlenefs and affability. It gives a native, unaffeded
cafe to the behaviour. It is focial, kind and cheerful ; far removed froni
that gloomy and illiberal rnperfiition which clouds the brow, Sharpens
the 'temper, deje^s the fpirit, and teaches men to fit themfdves for
-another world, by negleaing the concerns of this. Let your religion
on the contrary, conned preparation for heaven, with an honour-
able difcharge of the duties of adive life. Let it be ailbciated in
your imagination, with all that is m.anly and ufeful ; zviih uhatjoever
ib'wgs are true, arejnf, are pure, are lovely, are of good /t/> J/7,' wherever
there is anj virtue, and wherever there is any praije. Of fuch reli-
gion difcover, on every proper occafion, that' yon arc not afiiamed ;
i^ut avoid making any i:nncccffary olUnSation of it before the world '

On the DutUs 1 65

II. To piety, join modeily and docility, reverence, of your pa-
rents, and fubmilTion to thofe who are your fuperiours in knowledge,
in (tation, and in years. Dependence and obedience belong to youth-
Ivljc'jitv is one of its cliiet ornan^ents ; and has ever been efteemed a
prciaL,e ofrifing merit. When entering on the career of life, it is your
part, not to ailume the reins as yet into your hands; but to commit
yo'jrielves to the guidance of the more experienced, and to beconie
WiiC by the wifdom of thofe who have gone before you.

01 all the follies incident to youth, there are none which either de-
form its prefent appearance, or blaft the profpe<Sl of its future prof-
perity, more than lelf-conceit, prefumption, and obftinacy. By
checking its natural progrefs in improveinent, they fix it in long im^
maturity; and freouently produce mifchiefs, which can never bare-,
paired. Yet the fe are vices too commonly found among the young.
J3ig vvith enterprife, and elated by hope, they refolve to truft for fuc-
cefs to none but themfelves. Fiill of their own abilities, they deride
the admonitions which are given them by their friends, as the timo-
rous fuggeitions of age. Too wife to learn, too impatient to deli-
berate* too forward to be retrained, thcv plunge, with precipitant
indifcretion, into the midlt of ail the dangers with which life a-
bounds. Seeji thou a young man iv'tjs in his bivn conceit ? There is more
hope of a fool, than of him. — Pofitive as you now are in your opinions,
and confident in you afllertions, be alTured, that the time approaches
when both rnen and things will appear to you in a different light.
Many characters whiph you now admire, will, by and bye, fink in
your elieem ; and many opinions, of which you are at prefent moft
tenacious, will alter as you advance in years. Diftruff, therefore,
that glare of youthful prefumption, wliich dazzles your eyes. A-
bound not in your own fenfe. Put not yourfelves forward with too
much eagernefs ; nor imagine, that by the impetuofity ot juvenile
ardour, you can oyertuin fyflems which have been long eftablilhed,
and change the face of the world. Learn not to think more highly of
yourfelves than you ought to think, hut to think foberly. By patient and
gradual progreflion in improvement, you may, in due time, com-
mand lalfing efteem. But by alfuming, at prefent, a tone of fiipe-:
riority, to which you have no title, you will difguft thofe whofe ap-
probation it is mod important to gain. Forward vivacity may fit you
to be the companions of an idle hour. More foUd qualities mull re-
commend you to the wife, and mark you out fer importance andcon-
fideration in fubfequent life.

III. It is neccfTary to recommend to you, fincerity and truth..
This is the bafyj of every virtue. That darknefs of charader, where

?66 _ cf the Toimg.

we can fee no heart ; thofe foldings of art, through which no na-
tive affe£lion is allowed to penetrate, prelent an object, unamiable irj
every feafon of hfe, but particularly odious in yomh. If, at an acre
•mhtn the heart is warm, when the emotions are ftrong, and when
ra-ture is expe<5]led to fliew itfelf free and open, you can already fmile
arxJ deceive, what are we to look for when you fhall be longer
backneyed in the ways of men ; when interell fhall have completed
the obduraticn of your heart, and experience fliall have improved
yo« in all the arts of guile ? DifTiaiulai:on in youth, is the fore-run-
ner of perhdy in old age. Its firfl appearance, is the fatal omen of
growing depravity, and future fhamel It degrades parts and learn-
ing ; obfcures ;he li^flreof every accomplillinient ; and finks you in-
to contempt with God and man.

As you value, therefore, the approbation of Heaven, or the eReem of
the world, cultivate the love of truth. In all your proceedings, be
dired and confiftant. Ingenuity and candour poffefs the moft power-
lul charm ; they befpeak univerfal favour, and carry an apology for aU
moft every failing. The Up of truth, flmll be ejiablijhed for ever ; but a
l^ing tongue, is but for a moment *„ The path of truth, is a plain and a
fafe path ; that of falfchood, is a perplexing maze. After the firit de-
parture from fincerify, it is not in your power to ftop. One artifice
unavoidably leads on to another; till, as the intricacy of the labyrinth
incrcafes-, you are left entangled in your own Ihare. Deceit difcovers
a little mind, which ffops at temporary expedients, without rifing
to comprehenfive views of condudi. It betrays, at the (ame lime, a
dadardly fpirit. It is the refource of one wh© wants courage to avow
l^is defigns, or to reft upon himfelf. Whereas openncfs of charader
difplays that generous boldnefs which ought to diftinguilh youth. To
fet out in the world with no other principle than a crafty attention
to intereft, betokens one who is deltined for creeping through the in-
feriour walks of life. But to give an early preference to honour above
gain, when they ftand in competition ; to defpife every advantage,
which cannot be attained without diflioneft arts \ to brook no mean-
nefs, and to ftoop to no difFimulation ; are the indications of a great
mind, the prefages of future eminence and difiindion in life.

At the fame time, this virtuous fmcerity is perfedtly conflftent
with the mod prudent vigilance and caution. It is oppofed to cun-
ning, not to true wifdorn. It is not the fimplicity of a weak and
improvident, but the candour of an enlarged- and noble mind; of one
who fcorns deceit, becaufe he accounts it both bafe and unprofitable;
and who feeks no difguife, becaufe he needs none to hide him. Lord'.
•who f}^ all abide in thv taber uncle ? Who jhall afceud into thy holy hill ? He
that walketh uprightly, and workeih right eoujneji, aiHiJpeaketh the truth in
hii heart, ^ Frov. \n. 19. IV.

t>f! the Duties f^-j

IV. .Youth is the proper feafon of cultivating the benevolent -dud
' ui?.nc attVdiions. As a great part of your happiutfs is to depend <ja ■
'- conneclions which you form with others, it is of higliimportatK«
tliat you acquire, betimes, the temper and the manners which will
render fuch eounet^ticns comfortable. Let a ktik of jiiftice be fbc
foundation of all your fecial qualities. In your moft early intercouri^
with the world, and evdn in your youthful amufements, let no unfuir-
oefs be found. 'Engra;ve on your mind that facrcd rule, ot doiug aU
things to others, acCQiding as ym wijh thai they p^ould do unto you. ¥ot
this end, imprefs youriclves with a deep ienle of the original and na-
tural-'equality of men. Whatever advantages of birth or fortune y-ou
pofleis, never difplay them with an oflentatious Aipcriority, Leave
the fubordinatior.s of rank, to regulate the intercourfe of more advanc-
ed years. At prefent, it becomes you to a6l among your compam-
ons, as man with ma-n. Remember how unknown to you are the
viciihtudes of the world ; and how often they, on whom ignorant
and contemptuous young men once look down with fcorn, have rl-
fen to be tlieir fuperiours in future years.

Compailion is an emotion of vvfiich you ought rrever to beafhamed.
Graceful in youth is the tear of fy mpathy, and the heart that melts
at the tale of woe. Let not eafe and indulgence contradl your af-
fections, and wrap you up in felfifh enjoyment. But go Ibmetimes
to ihe houfe of mourning, as well as /o the houfe of feajiivg. Accuflom
yourfelves to think of' the dif^refTes of human life ; of the folitary cot-
tage, the dying parent, and the weeping orphan. Thou Jhak not hardm-
thy heart, nor Jhut thy hand frofu thy poor brother : hut thou jh alt jurely
give unto him in the day of his need : And thine heart jhall not he grieved
•when thou giveji unto him ; kecauj'e that for this thing, the Lord thyGsd
Jhall hlefs thee in all thy works*. Never fport with pain and diftrefs;*-
in any of your amufements ; nor treat even the meaneft irtfed witfa'^
wanton cruelty.
•In young minds, there is commonly aftfongpropdnfity to particular
intimacies and friendlhips. Youth, indeed, is the feafon when friend-
l"bips are fometimes formed, which not only contimie through fuc-
ceeding life, but which glovv to the laft, with a tsndernefs unknowa
to the connexions begun in cooler years. The propenfity therefore
is not to bediicouraged \ though at the fluBs time it mult be regubt-
cd with much citcum/pefStion and care. Too many of the pretended
triendfhips of youth, are mere combinations in pleafure. They are
often founded in capricious likings; fuddenly contraaed, and as fud-
denly dilVolved. Sometimes they are the efFea of intcrefted complai-
lance and flattery on the one fide, and of credulous fondnefs on th^
othei'. Beware of fuch rafli and dangerous' cunnedlions, which may
^Deut. XV. 7, 10. afterwards

I SS oj' the Toung.

afterwards load you with difhonour. Rcmf^mber, that by the ctia-
ra6ler of thofe whom you choofe for your fiiends, your own is likely
to be formed, and will certainly be judged of by the world. Be flow,
therefore, and cautious in cnntra(9.ing intimacy; but when a virtu-
ous friendlhip is once eftabliihed, confidcr it as a facred engagement".
Expofe not yourfclves' to the repn.-ach of Fightnefs and inconftancy,
which always befpeak, either a trifling, or a bafe mind. Reveal none
of the fecrets of your friend. Be faithful to his interefls, Forfakc
him not in danger. Abhor the thought of acquiring any advantage
by hi? prejudice or hurt. There Is a friend that loveth at all times,
end a brother thai is born for udverji'y. Thine oivn friend, and thy fa-
ther's friend, farfahe not *.

Finally, on this head ; in order to render yourfclves amiable in (o-
Ciety, correft every appearance of harflinefs in behaviour. Let thaf
courtefy diftinguifli your demeanour, which fprings, not fo much Irom
fiudied politenefs, as from a mild and gentle heart. FollovV thecul-
toms of the world in matters indifferent; but fiop when they becr.ma
finful. Let your manners be Ample and natural ; and ofcourfe they
W\\\ be engaging. AfFe£lation is certain deformity. By forming them-
felves on fantaflic models, and vying with one anotheV in every reign^^
ing folly, the young begin with being ridiculous, and end in being vi-
cious and immoral.

V. Let me particularly exhort youth to temperance in pleafure:
Let meadmonilTi them, to beware of that rock on which thoufands,
from race to race, continue to fplit. The love of pleafure, natural
to man in every period of his life, glows at this age with exceflivc ar-
dotir. Novelty adds frefh charms, as yet, to every gratification. The
world appears to fpread a continued feafl ; and health, vigour, and
high fpirits, invite them to partake of it without reflraint. In vain we
warn them of latent dangers. Religion is accufed of InfufFerable fevcri^
ty, in prohibiting enjoyment : and the old, when they off^er their adnio-
iiitions, are upbraided with having forgot that they once were young,
— And yet, my friends, to what do thereflraints of religion, and the
counfels of age, with refpedl to pleafure, amount r They may all be
tomprized in few words, not to hurt yourfelves, and not to hurt others,
by your purfuit of pleafure. Within thefe bounds, pleafure is lawful.
beyond them, it becomes criminal, bacaufe it is ruinous. Are thefe
reftraints any other, than what a wife man would choofe to impofe
on himlelf ? We call you not to renounce pleafure, but to enjoy it
in fatety. Inilead of abridging it, we exhort you to purfue it on an
extenfive plan. We propofe meafures for fecuring its poffeflion, and
lor prolonging its duration.

* Frov. wii. 17. — xjtvii. :o. Confult

of^heToung. 169

ConfuU your whole nature. Confidcr yourfelves not only as /"en-
fitive, but as rational beings; not only as rational, but focial ; not
only as iucial, but immortal. Whatever violates your nature in any
of tiiefe refpeds, cannot affoi-d true pleafure \ any more than that
which undermines an eifential part of the vital f)(iem can promote
health. For the truth of this conclufion, we appeal, not merely to
the authority of religion, nor to the teftimony of the aged, but to
yourfelves and your own experience. We aft. Whether you have
not found, that in a courfe of criminal excefs, your pleafure was more
than compenfated by fucceeding pain r Whether, if not from every
particular inftance, yet from every habit, at leaft, of unlawtnl gra-
tification, there did not fpring (ome thorn to wound you, there did
not arifc fomeconfequeoce to make you repent of it in the iffue \ Hw
Jong then, ye fimple ones ! tvill ye love ftnpUcity^. How long repeat the
fame round of pernicious folly, and tamely expofe yourfelves to be
caught in the fame fnare r If you have any confideration, or any firm-
nefs left, avoid temptations, for which you have found yourfelves un-
equal, with as much care, as you would fhnn pcflileniial infcdion.
Break offall conneflions with the loofe and profligate. IFhen [in-
ner s entice ihee, confent thou not. Look not on the zvine when it is re J,
when if oive/h its colour in the cup; for at the I/iJI, it bilelh like ajerpeutf
undjlingcih like an adder. Remove thy %v ay from the Jirange woman, end
come not near the door of her houfe. Let not thine heart decline to her
loays ; for her houfe is the way to hell. Ihou goeji after her as a birdhafi-
eth to the fnare, andknoweth not that it is for his life.

By thefe unhappy excefies of irregular pleafure in youth, how ma-
ny amiable difpoliiions are corrupted ordellroyed! How many rifing
capacities and powers are fupprtfled ! How many flattering hopes of
parents and friends are totally extinguilhed ! Who but muft drop a
tear over humian nature, when he beholds that morning which arofe
fo bright, overcaft with fuch untimely darknefs ; that good humour
which once captivated all hearts, that vivacity which fpatklcd in eve-
ry company, thofe abilities which were fitted for adorning the high-
eft nation, all facrificed at the Hirine of low fcnfiiality ; and one who
was formed for running the fair career of life in the midft ot public
eileem, cut off by his vices at the beginning of his courfe, or funk,
for the whole of it, into infignificancy and contempt ! — Thefe, O
fmful Pleafure! are thy trophies. It is thus that, co-operating with
the foe of God and man, thou degradeft human honour, and blaftefl:
the opening profpedlb of human felicity.

VI,
X

170- On the IDuUlfS

VI. Diligence, induftry, and proper improvemcnl of unie, are
material duties of the young. To no purpofe are they endowed with
the beft abilities, if they want adtivity for exerting them. . Unavail-
ing, in this cafe, will be every diredlioa that can be given thetti, either
for their temporal or fpi ritual welfare. In youth the habits of ia-
duftry are moft eafily acquired. In youth, the incentives to it are
Urongeil, from ambition and from duty, from emulation and hope,
from all the profpcds which the beginning of life affords. If, dead to
thefe calls, you already languilh in flothful inadtion, what will be a-
ble to quicken the more fluggith current of advancing years ?

Induflry is not only the inflrunient of improvement, but the foun-
dation of plcafure. Nothing is fo oppofite to the true enjoyment of
life, as the relaxed and feeble flate of an indolent mind. He who is
a ftranger to induftry, may poflefs, but he cairnot enjoy. For it is
labour only which gives the relitli to pleafure. It is the appointed
vehicle ot every good to man. It is the indifpenfable condition of our
polfeffing a found mind in a found body. Sloth is fo inconfiflent
with both, that it is hard to determine whether it be a greater foe
to virtue, or to health and happincfs. Inadlive as it is in itfelf, its
eftedls are fatally powerful. Though it appear a fiovvly flowing
Itream, yet it undermines all that is liable and flourilhing. It not
only faps the foundation of every virtue, but pours upon you a de-
luge of crimes and evils. It is like water which firll putrifies by ftag-
nation, and then fends up noxious vapours, and fills the atmofphere
with death.

Fly, therefore, from idlenefs, as the certain parent both of guilt
and of ruin. And under idlenefs I include, not mere inadion only,
but all that circle of trifling occupations, in which too many faunter
avvay their youth ; perpetually engaged in frivolous fociety or public
amufements, in the labours of drefs, or the oHentation of their per-
fons. — Is this the foundation which you lay for future ufefulnefs and
cfteem ? By fuch accomplifhments, do you h.ope to recommend your-
felves to the thinking part of the world, and to anfwer the expe6la-

tions of your friends, and your country ? Amufements, youth

requires. It were vain, it were cruel to prohibit them. But though
allowable as the relaxation, they are raoff culpable as the bulinefs, of
the young. For they then become the gulf of lime, andthepoifon
of the mind. They foment bad paflions. They weaken the manly
powers. They fink the native vigour of youth, into contemptible
efreminacy.

Redeeming your time from fuch dangerous waRe, feck to till it

with

tf the Young. fjt

with employments which you may review with fatisfadion. The
acqnifition of knowledge is one of the moft honourable occupations'-
of yoiitii. The defire of it difcovers a liberal mind, and is conne£ted
wiih many accomplitliments, and many virtues. But though your
train of life Ihould not lead you to ftudy, the courfe of education al-
ways furnilhes proper employments to a well-difpofed mind. What-
ever you purfue, be emulous to excel. Generous air.bition, and fen-
fibility to praifc, are, efpecialiy at your age, among the marks of vir-
tue. Think not, that any affluence of fortune, or any elevation of
rank, exempts you from the duties of application and induftry. In-
dultry is the law of our being ; it is the demand of Nature, of Rea-
fon, and of Gad. Rcmcnib^r always, that the years which now pafs
over your heads, leave pf-rnianent memorials behind them. From
your thoughtlefs minds they may efcapc ; but th?y remain in the re-
membrance of God. They form an important part of the regirter of
your life. Tliey will hereafter bear teftimony, either for or againft
you, at that day, when, for all your aftions, but particu'aily for the
employments of youth, you muft give an account to God.

Thus I have fet before you fome of the chief qualifications which
belong to thaty^^^/- w/W, that virtuous and religious chara(£ler, whicli
the Apoltle in my Text recommends to youth ; piety, modefly, truth,
benevolence, temperance, and induftry. Whether your future courfe
isdeflined to be long or Hiort, after this manner it fliould commence;
and, if it continue to be thus conducled, its conclufion, at what time
foever it sriives, will not be inglorious or unhappy. For honourable
age is ml that which jiandeth in length of time, or that which is msujured
by number of years. But wifdom is the grey hair to man, and an un-
Jpotted life is old age.

Lkt me finilli the fubje^t, with recalling yaur attention to that
dependence on the bleirmg of Heaven, whicii, amidfl all your endea-
vours after improvement, you ought continually to preferve. It is
too con;mon with the young, even when they refolve to tread the
path of virtue and hor;pur, to fet out with prefumptuous confidence
in thetrifeives. Trufiing to their own abilities for carrying them fuc-
cefsfully through life, they are carelefs of applying to God, or of de-
riving any aflilbnce from what they are apt to reckon th^ gloomy
difcipline of religion. Alas I how little do they know the dangers
which await them ? Neither human wifdom, nor human virtue, un-
fupporled by religion, are ec^ual for the trying fituations which often

occur

172- On the Duths, ^c.

occur in life. By the fliock of temptation, how frequently have the
mofi: virtuous intentions been overthrown ? Under t he preilureof dii'al-
ter, h(jw often h.as the greate(t confiancy liink r Every good, and eviry
p.ei-fsdf gift, isfi-jm above. Wililo'm and virtue, as v^eil as riches and
honour,' come from God. Dcftitule of his favour, yon are in no better
fitualion, with all your boafied abihiies, than orphans left to wander
in a trarklefs defert, v^uhout any guide tocondu6l thetri, or any fljcl-
ter to cover them from the gathering florm. Correfl, then, this ill-
founded airogance. Expedl not, tliat your happinefs can be indepen-
tlent of him who made you. By faith and repentance, apply to the
Redeemer of the world. By piety and prayer, fcek the protcclion of
the God of heaven, I conclude with the foh inn words, in wfiich a
great Prince delivered his dying charge to his fon ; words wliich eve-
ry young perlon ought to contider as atldrelTcd to hiinfclf, aiul to en-
grave deeply on his heart : T^hou, Solomon, my fori, knoiv ihoii the Gcd
of thy fathers ; .and ferv.c him with a peif'^ heart, and ivith a willing
mind. For the Lord fcarchcth all hearts, and underftandeth all the ima-
ginations of the thoughts. If thoufek him, he zvill he found of thee ; hul
if thou jorfahe him, he zvill cnf thee off for iver*.

* I Ch'on. xxvii;. 9,

SERMON

( n3 1

S' E R M ON XIL

Qn the Duties and Consolations of the Aged..

Prov. xvi. 31.

T/je hoary hiad is a crozvn of gkry, if it be found in the way of nghte-

oujricfs.

TO fear Gad, and to keep his commandments, is the rule of our duty,
in every period gif life. But, as the light which guides our lieps,
varies with the proorefs of the day, fo the rule of religious condud
is dlverfified in its application, by the different flagcs of our prelent
exigence. To every age, there belongs a diftinft propriety ot belia-
viour. There arifes from it, a feries of duties peculiar to itfelf.

Of thofe which are incumbent on youth, I have treated in the pre-
ceding difcourfe. As we advance from youth to middle age, a new-
field of atStion opens, and a different character is required. 1 he How
of gay and impetuous fpiiits begins to fiibfide. Life gradually aiVumcs
a graver call ; the m.ind a more fedate and thoughtful turn. The
attention is now transferred from pleafure to intereft; that is, to plea-
fure diffufed over a wider extent, and mcafured by a larger fcale. For-
merly, the enjoyment of the prefent moment occupied the whole at-
tention. Now, no adion terminates ultimately in itfelf, but refers
to fume more diRant aim. Wealth and power, the inflruments of
lailing gratification, are now coveted more than any fmgle pleafure.
Piudence and forelight lay their plans. Induftry carries on its pati-
ent efforts. Adivity pufhes forward ; addrefs winds around. Here,
an enemy is to be overcome; there, a rival to be difplaced. Com-
petitions warm; and the f^rife of the world thickens on every fide.
To guide men through this bufy period, without lofsof integrity ; to
guard them againft the temptations which arife from mifiaken or in-
terfering interefls ; to call them from worldly purfuits to ferious
thoughts of their fpiritual concerns, is the great ofEce of religion.

But as this includes, in a great meafnrc, the whole compafii of mo-
r;u duty, as the general ftraiu of religious exhortation is addreiied to

thofe

1 74- On the Diit'ies afld

thofe vv!io are in tliis feafon of life ; a delineation of the virtues pro-
perly belonging to midJIe age, may appear unRcceiTary, and would
lead us into too wide a field. Let us tlierefore turn our view to a
bounded profpetl: ; and contemplate a period of life, the duties of
wliich are cireumfcribed within narrower limits. Old age is a ftage
ot the human courfe, which every one hopes to reach ; and therefore
the confideration of it interefts lis all. It is a period juffly entitled to
general refpe£l. Even its faihngs ought to be touclied with a gentle
hand j and though the petulant, and the vain, may defpife the hoary
head ; yet the wifeft of men hasalferted in the Text, that wY^tn found
in theivay of righteoufnejs, it is a crown of glory. I fiiall Hrft offer fome
counfels, concerning the errors which are mdfl incident to the aged.
Secondly, I (hall fuggeft the peculiar duties they ought to pra6life ;
and, thirdly, point out the confolations they may enjoy.

■ I. As the follies and vices of youth are chiefly derived from inexpe-
rience and prefumption ; fo almoli all the errors of age may be traced
up to the feeblenefs and diftreffes peculiar to that time ot life. Though,
in every part of life, vexations occur, yet, in former years, eithf r bu-
flnefs, or pleafure, ferved to obliterate their impreflion, by fupplying
occupation to the mind. Old age begins its advances, with difqtta-
lifying men for relilhing the one, and for taking an adive part in the
other. While it withdraws their accuftomed fupports, it impofes, at
the fame time, the additional burden of growing infirmities. In the
former flages of their journey, hope continued to flatter them with
many a fair and enticuxg profped. But in proportion as old age in-
creafes, thofe pleahng illufions vanifli. Lite is contraded within a
narrow and barren circle. Year after year fteals fomewhat away
from their (lore of comfort, deprives them of fome ot their ancient
friends, blunts fome of their powers of fenfation, or incapacitates them
lor fome fundi on of life.

Though, in the plan of Providence, it is wifely ordered, that before
we are called away from the world, our attachment to it fhould be gra-
dually loofened \ though it be fit in itfelf, that as in the day of human
life, there is a morning ^nd a noon, fo there fhould bean evenirig alfo,
when the lengthening fhadows (hall admonifh us of approaching
night \ yet we have no reafon to be furprifed, if they who are arrived at
this dejecling feafon, feel and lament the change which they fufter.
The complaints, therefore, of the aged, fliould meet with tendernel's
rather than cenfure. The burden under which they labour, ought to
be viewed with fympathy, by thofe who rnuft bear it in their turn,
and who, perhaps, hereafter, may complain of it as bitterly. At

the fame time, the old fhould conlider, that all the feafons of life have

their

ConfslaUoni of the 'Aged, ' xn^

their feveral trials allotted to them \ and that to bear tlie infirmities
of age with becoming patience, is as much their duty, as it is that"
of the young to refirt the temptations of yoiitlifnl pieafure. By calm-
ly enduring, for the fliort time that remains, what Providence is plcaf-
ed to iniiidl, they bath exprefs a refignation mofl acceptable to God,
and rec<!mmend liieraielves to the efteem and affiftance of all who are
around them.

But though the quertilous temper iinputed to old age, is trf be
confidered as a natural infirmity, rather than as a vice : t!ie fame apolo-
gy cannot be made for that peevilh difguft at the manners, and that
malignant cenfure of the enjoyments, of the young, which is fome-
times found to accompany declining years. Nothing can be more
unjuft, than to take oifence at others, on account of their partakiug
of plcafures, which it is part your time to enjoy. By indulging th.is
fretful temper, you both aggravate the uneafmefs of age, and you ali-
enate thofe on whofe affedion much of your comfort depeirJs. In
order to make the two extremes of life unite in amicable fociety, it
is greatly to be wifhed, that the young would look forward, and con-
flder that they fliall one day be old ; and that the old would look
back, and, remembering that they once were young, make proper al-
lowances for the temper and the manners of youth.

But infiead of this, il is too common to find the aged at declared
enmity witti the whole fyftem of prefent cuftom.s and manners ; per-
petually complaining of the growing depravity of the world, and of
the aftonifhing vices and follies of therifing generation. Ail things,
according to them, are rufliing fail into ruin. Decency and good order
have become extin£l, ever fince that happy difcipline, under which

they fpent their'youth, has palfed away. Part, at leaii, of this

difpleafure, you may fairly impute to the infinriily of age, which
throws its own gloom on every furrounding object. Similar lamen-
tations were, in the days of your youth, poured forth by your la-
thers; and they whoare now young, fliall, when it conies to their
turn, inveigh, in the like ftrain, againft thofe who fucceed them.
Great has been the corruption of the world in every age. Sufiicient
ground there is for the complaints made by feiious obfervers, at all
times, of abounding iniquity and folly. But though particular modes
of vice prevail in one age, more than in others, it does not follow^
that on that age all iniquity is accumulated. It is the form, perhaps,
more than the quantity of corruption, which makes the dillinftion-
In the worft of times, God has afilired us, that there Ihal! be always
a feedwho/Jjallferve him *. Say not thm^ PFhat is the caufe that the for '
vier days zvere better than thcfe r for thou dofl not enquire ivifeiy concern-
ing this. Be not righteous ovetu.ujh ; neither make thyflf overwife^.

* Fful, xii. ^o. :j: £^^7^. vii. lo, i6. Former

ijS' On ihc Duties mil

Former follies pafs away, and are forgotten. Thofe which are pre-
fcnt, {trike obfervation, and fharpen cenfure. Had the depravation
of the world continued to inCreafe in proportion to thofe gloomy cal-
culations which, for fo manv centuries pall:, have cftimated each race
as worfe than the preceding ; by this time, not one ray of good fenfe,
Eor onefpark of piety and virtue, mull have remained unextinguifl.ed
among mankind.

One ol the vices pf old age, which appears the molt unaccountable, is
that covetous attachment to worldly intered, with which it is ofteir
charged. But this too, can naturally be deduced from the fenfe of
its feeblenefs and decay. In proportion as the vigour both of body
and mind declines, timidity may be expe6led to iucreafe. With anx-
ious and fearful eye, the aged look forward to the evils which threat-
en them, and to the changes which may befal. Hence, they are
fbmetiincs apt to overvalue riches, aS the ini^rument of their defence
againfl thefe dangers, and as the nioft certain means of fecuring them
againrt: folitude and difrefpe^l:. But thoirgh their apprehenfions may juf-
tify a cautious frugality, they can by no means cxcuie a fordid avarice.
It is no lefs abfurd, than it is culp-,-b:e, in the old, from the dread of
uncertain futurity, to deny themlclves the erijoynient of the prefent ;
and to increafe in anxiety about their journey, in proportion as it draws
nearer to its ciofc. There are more efFe<5l':al :r;etliods of command-
ing refpect from the world, than the mere polieilion of wealth. Let
them be charitable, and do good. Let them mix beneficence to their
friends, with a cheerful enjoyment of the comforts which befit their
ftate. They will then receive the returns of real refpccl and love.
Whereas, by their riches, they procure no more than pretended de-
monflrations of regard ; while their ill-judged parfimony cccafioiis
many fecret withes for their death.

As incrcafing years debilitate the body, i^o they weaken the force,
and diminifh the warmth of the afFedlions. Chilled by the hand ot
time, the heart lofes that tender fenfibility, with which it once en-
tered into the concerns and forrows of others. It is, in truth, a mer-
ciful appointment of Providence, that as they who lee many days,
mufl behold many a fad fcene, the impreflions of grief upon their heart
fhould be blunted by being often repeated ; and that, in proportion as
their power of advancing theprofperity of others decreafes, their par-
ticipation of the misfortunes of others fhould alfo lefTen. However,
as in every period of life, humanity and friendfhip contribute to hap-
pinefs, it is both tl)e duty and the intereflof the aged, to cherlfh the
remains of the kind affcdions; and, from the days of former years,
to recal fuch impreffions as may tend to foftcn their hearts. Let
them not ^lom having fufTcied much in the courfe of their long pilgri-
mage.

Confd.it lorn of the Aged. 1 --7

lii^ge, become callous to the fuffcirings ot others. Bu% remember: it:*
that they (lill are men, let them (tudy to keep their heart open to tht:
fenfe of human woe. Prailifed ia the ways of men, thev arc apt to
be fufpicicus of deflgn and fraud; for the knowledge and the diftruft
of maiikaid too often go together. Let not, however, that wary cau-
tion, which is the fruit of their experience, degenerate into craft. Ex-
perience ought alfo to have taught ;hem, that amidft all the falfehoodl
of men, integrity is the beft defiance; and that he who continueth to
the end to walk uprightly, Ihall continue to walk fur elj . Havin'^ thus

0 iered fome admoniiions concerning the errors mo(t incident to a^c,

1 proceed,

II. To point out the duties which peculiarly belong to it.

I'he firft which I iliali mention, is a timely retreat from the world.
In every part o'f life, we are in hazard of being too deeply immerred
in its carcs. But during its vigorous periods, tiie impuifl- of active
fpiiit, the necelFary bufinefs of our ftation, and the allowable endea-
vours to advance our fortune by fair indulfry, render it ditiicult to ob-
ierve due moderation. In old age, all the motives of eager purfuit
dcminiih. The voice of Nature then calls you to leave to others the
bulHe and conteft of the world \ and gradually to difeno;ai;e yourfelves
from a burden, which begins to exceed your flrength. Havin.» borne
your fhare of the heat and labour of the day, let the evening of life
be pafTed in the cool and quiet fiiade. It is c ».!y in the f})ade, that
the virlues of old age can tlourifh. There, its duties are difcharged
with more fuccefs \ and there, its comforts are enjoyed with greatefl
fatisfacfion.

By the retreat of old age, however, I do not mean a total cef^atioji
from every worldly ernployment. There is an error in this, as well
as in the cppofite extreme. Perfons who have been long harraffed
with bullnefs and care, fometimes imagme, tiiat when life declines,
they cannot make their retirement from the world too complete. But
where they expected a delicious enjoyment of leiftire and eafe, they
have (dtenfound a melancholy folitude. Few are able, in any period
of their days, to bear a total ab(lia<llion from the world. There re-
mains a vacancy which they cannot fill up. Incapable of being al-
ways employed in the exercifcs of religion, and often little qualified
jor the entertainments of the underitanding, theV are in hazard of be-
coming- a burden to themlelyes, and to ail with whom they arccori--
ne£led. It is, therefore, the duty of the aged, not lb much taw^th-
■.'.^.-.y entirely from worldly buHnefs, as to contrail its circle; not fo

Y im.cli

178 On the Duties and

much to break ofF, as to loofen their communication with a6llve life.
Continuing that train of occupation to which they have been moft
accuRomed, let them purfue it with lefs intenfenefs ; relaxing their
efforts, as their powers decline; retiring more and more from public
obfervation, to domeftic fcenes, and ferions thoughts ; till as the de-
cays oi life advance, the world ftiall of itfelf withdraw to a greater dif-
tance from their view ; its objeds (hall gradually yield their place to
others of more importance; and its tumults lliall found in their ears,
only like a noife which is heard from afar.

If it be the duty of the old, to retreat betimes from the fatigue of
wo: :dly care, it is fliil more incumbent on them to quit the purfuit of
fuch plcafures as are unfuitable to their years. Cheerfulnefs, in old
a'^e. is eraceful. It is the natural concomitant of virtue. But the
cheerfulnefs of age is widely different from the levity of youth. Many
thint^s are allowable in that early period, which, in maturer years,
would deferve cenfure ; but which, in old age, become both ridiculous
and criminal. By awkwardly affe^ling to imitate the manners, and to
minc^le in the vanities of the young, as the aged depart from the dig-
nity, fo they forfeit the privileges of grey hairs. But if, l)y follies
of this kind, they aie degraded, they are expofed to much deeper
blame, by defcending to vicious pleafure, and continuing to hover
round thofe fmful gratifications to which they were once addided.
Amufcment and relaxation the aged require, and may enjoy. But
let them confider well, that by every intemperate indulgence, they
accelerate decay ; inftead of enlivening, they opprefs, and precipitate
their declining- flate. Eafe, fafety, and refpcd, are the proper enjoy-
ments of age. Within thefe bounds let it remain, and not, vainly at-
tempt to break through that barrier, by which nature has feparated
the pleafures of youth, from the comforts left to the concluding years
of life.

A material part of the duty of the aged, confins, in fludylng to be
iifefijl to the race who are to fucceed them. Here opens to them an
extenfive field, in which they may fo employ themfelves, as confide-
rably to advance the Interefl: of religion, and the happinefs of mankind.
To them it belongs, to impart to the young the fruit of their long ex-
perience; to inftrud them in the proper condudl, and to warn them
of the various dangers, of life ; by wife counfel, to temper their pre-
cipitate ardour ; and, both by precept and example, to form them to
piety and virtue.

It is not by rigorous difcipUtie, and unrelaxing aufterity, that they

can

Conjoint ions of the .^ged. 1 79
can maintain an afcendant over youthful minds. The conftraint which
their prefence will imjrofc, and the averfion which their manners wiU
create, if the one be conftanily awful, and the other fevere, tend to
fiuftrate the efFe6l of all their wifdom. They mufi: alVume the fpirit
of the companion, and the friend; and mix, with the authority of
at^e, a proper degree of indulgence to the manners of the young. In-
Itead of leiTening the refpe£t due to their years by fi:ch condefcenfion,,
they take the fureft method to increafe it. Old age never appears with
greater dignity than, when tempered with mildnefs, and enlivened
with good humour, it afts as the guide and the patron of youth. Re-
ligion, difplayed in fuch a charafter, ftrikes the beholders, as at once
amiable and \cnerable. They revere its power, when they fee it ad-
ding fo much grace to the decays of nature, and fhedding fo pleafinga
luRre over the evening oi iiie. The young wifn to tread in the fame
flcps, and to arrive at theclofe of their days vvitli equal honour. They
liften with attention to counfels which are minirled with tendernefs
and rendered refpedable by grey hairs. For notwithrtanding all its
prefumption, youth naturally bends before faperiour knowledge and
years. Aged wifdom, when joined with acknowledged virtue, exerts
an authority over the human miivi, greater even than that which
arifes from power and ftation. It can check the mofl forward, abafli
the moft profligate, and ftrike with awe the mofl giddy and unthinkino-.
In the midit of their endeavours to be ufeful to others, let not the
aged forget thofe religious employments which their own ftate par-
ticularly requires. The firil of thefe, is, refledion on their paft be-
haviour, with a view to difcover the errors which they have commit-
ted ; and as far as remaining life allows, to apply thcmfelves to repen-
tance and amendment. L<>"g has. the world bewildered you in

its maze, and impofed upon you by its arts. The time is now come,
when this great ftducer Ihould tnillead you no more. From the calm
ftation at which you are arrived, fcqueflered from the crowd of the
deceiving and thedeceived, review your condud with the eyeof Chrif-
tians and immortal beings. After all the tumult of life is over, what
now remains to afford you folid fatisfaftion r Have you ferved God
with fidelity, and difchargcd your part to your fellow-creatures with
integrity and a good confcience r Can you look forward without ter-
rour to that day which is to diilblve your connexion with this world,
and to bring you into the prefence of hini who made you in order to
give account of your adions ?— The retrofped of life is feldoin
wholly unattended by uneafinefs and fhame. Though, to the good
and the bad, it prefents a very different fcene ; yet, to all men, it re-
calls much guilt incurred, r.iid much tim.e mif-(pent. It too much

rcfcmblcs

1 8o On the Duties and

refembles the review which a traveller takes from fome eminence, of a
barren country, through which he lias palTed, where the heath and
the defert form the chief profpeft ; diverfified only by a few fcatlered
fpots of imperfe6l cultivation.

Turn then your thoughts to the proper methods of making your
peace with God through Jefus Chrift ; and implore, from Divine grace,
that nexv heart and right Jpirit, which will fit you for a better world.
Let devotion fill up many of thofe hours which are now vacant from
worldly bufinefs and care- Let your affe^lions dwell among divine
and immortal obje£ls. \n filent and thoughtful meditation, walk as on
the iliore of that vaft ocean, upon which you are foon to embark.
Summon up ail the confiderati i is, which fhould reconcile you to
your departure from life ; anH which may prepare you for going through
its laPc fcene, with firmneiS and decency. Often let your thankfgi\-
inrs afcend to Go:\, for that watchful care with wliich he hath hither-
to conducted yoii, through the long journey of life. Often let your
prayers be heard, tl;at in what remains of your pilgrimage, he may
not forfake you ; and, that when you enter into the valley of the Jha^
dow of death, he may there lupport you with his faff, and defend you
with his rod. — AmidH: iuch tliougins arid cares, let old age find you
employed; betaking yourfelvcs to a prudent and tunely retreat ; dif-
engaged both from the oppreiTive load of bufinefs, and from the un-
ieafonable purfuit of pleafure ; applying ycurfelves to form the fuc-
ceeding race, by yoiir counfels, to virtue and wifdom ; reviewing feri-
bufly your paft life ; by repentance and devotion, preparing ycurfelves
ior a better; and, with humble and manly compofure, expedling
that hour, which Nature cannct now long delay. It remains,

ILL To fuggefl the confolations which belong to eld age, when
thus found in theziayrfji^hteoufiejs.

I muff introduce them with obferving, That nothing is more rea-
sonable in rtfelf, than to fubmit patiently to thofe infirmities of Na-
ture which are brought on by the increafe of years. You knew be-
forehand what you had to expedf, when yoti numbered the fucceffive
Summers and Winters which were palTihg over your heads. Old age
did not attack you by fuiprife, nor was it forced upon you againft
your choice. Often, and carnedly, did you wifh toy^^ hng life and
7nany days. When arrived at the defired period,' have youanyjiifl
caufe to complain, on account of enduring what the conflitution of
our being impofes on all? Did yen expedf. that, for your fake, Pro-
vidence was to alter ii5 efiablifhed crc'cr ? Thrcughcut the whole ve-
getable,

Ccnfolatlons of the Aged. %%%

gctable, fenfible, and rational world, whatever makes progrefs to-
wards maturity, asfoonas it has pafled that point, begins to verge to-
wards decay. It is as natural for old age to be frail, as for the
iftalk to bend under the ripened ear, or for the autumnal leaf to change
its hue. To this law, all who went befere you, have fubmiited;
and all who fhall come after you, muft yield. After they have flou-
riOied for a feafori, they ihall fade, like you, when the period of de-
cline arrives, and bow under the preflijre of years.

During the whole progrefs of the human courfe, the principal ma-
terials of our comfort, or uneafinefs, lie within ourfelves. Every age
will prove burdcnfome to thofe who have no fund of happinefs in
their own bread. Preferve them, it you could, from all infirmity of
frame ; beftow upon them, if it were poflible, perpetual youth ; ftill
they woukl be relllefs and miferable, through the inftuence of illgo-
verned pa(Iio>is. It is not furpriling, that fuch perfons are peevifii,
and querulous, when old. UnjuUly they impute to their time of life,
that mifery with which their vices and follies embitter every age„
Whereas, to good inen, no period of life is unfupportable, becaufe
they draw their chief happinefs from fources which are independent
of age or time. V/ifdom, piety, and virtue, grow not old with our
bodies. They fufFer no decay from length of days. To them only
belongs unalterable and unfading youth. Thofe that be planted in the
houfe of the Lord, f: all flour :jh in the courts of our God. They jhalljiitl
bring forth fruit in old ags ; they jh all be fat and flour iJJjing *.

You czn now, it is true, no longer rellfli many of thofe plcafures
v\hichoace amuied you. Your lenfations are lefs quick than for-
merly ; your tlays more languiihing. But if you have quitted the re-
gion of pleafure, in return, you pollefs that of tranquillity and repofe.
If you are (hangers to the vivacity of enjoyment, you are free, at the
fame time, from the pain of violent and often difappointed defire.
Much fatigue, much vex.ition, as well as vanity, attend that turbu-
lence of life, in which the younger part of mankind are engaged.
Amidfl: thofe keen purfuits, and feeming pleafures, for which you
envy them, often they feel their own mifery, and look forward with
a wifhful eye to the feafon of calmnefs and retreat. For on all fides
of liuman lite, the balance of happinefs is adjufted with more equali-
ty than at firlf: appears ; and if old age throws fome new diffrefles in-
to the fcale, it lightens alfo the weight of others. Many paflionSv
which formerly didurbed your tranquillity, have now fubfided. Ma-
ny competiliops, which long filled your days with difqulet and ftrife,

are
* Pfalm, xcii. 13, 14.

iS^ On the Duties and

are now at an end. Many afflidions, which once rent your hearts
■with violent anguifh, are now foftened into a tender emotion, on
the remembrance of part woe. In the beginnings of Hfe, there was
room for much apprehenfion concerning what might befal in its pro-
grels. Your fecurity was never untroubled. Your hopes were in-
' terrupted by many anxieties and fears. Having finiflied the career
of labour and danger, your anxiety ought of courfe to lefien. Ready
to enter into the harbour, you can look back, as from a fecure ftation,
upon the perils you have efcaped, upon the tempelt by which you
was toffed, and upon tiie multitudes who are ftiU engaged in coa-
fliciingwith the ftorm.

If you havea6led your part with integrity and honour, ynu arejuftly
entitled to refpedt, and you will generally receive it. For rarely, or
never, is old age contemned, unlefs when, by vice or folly, it ren-
ders itfelf contemptible. Though length of time may have worn off
funerficial ornaments, yet what old age loofes in grace, it often gains
in dignity. The veneration, as was before obfervcd, which grey
hairs command, puts it in the power of the aged, to maintain a very
iinportant place inhuman fociety. They are fo far from being infig-
Dificant in the world, that families long held together by their au-
thority, and focieties accuflomed to be guided by their counfels, have
frequently had caufe to regret their lofs, more than that of the mod:
vigorous and young. To fuccefs of every kind, the head which dire£ls,
IS no lefs cfTential than the hand which executes. Vain, nay often
dangerous, were youthful enterprife, if not conduded by aged pru-
dence. I Ja'id, Days Jhoidd /peak, and multitude of years Jhoidd teach
wtjdom *. Therefore, thou jhalt rife up before the hoary head, and ho-
nour the face of the old man, and fear thy Gsd +.

Though, in old age, the circle of your pleafures is more contra6t-
ed than it has formerly been ; yet, within its limits, many of thoie
enjoyments remain, which are moft grateful to human nature. Tem-
perate mirth is not extingui(hed by advanced years. The mild plea-
fures of domeftic life ftill cheer the heart. The entertainments of
converfation, and focial intercourfe, continue unimpaired. The de-
fire of knowledge is not abated by the frailty of the body; and the
leifure of old age affords many opportunities of gratifying that defirc.
The fphere of your obfervation and reflc6lion is fo much enlarged by
long acquaintance with the world, as to fupply, within itfelf, a wide
range of improving thought. To recall the various revolutions which
have occurred fmceyou began to aft your pait in life; to compare lb*

charaflers
* Jib, xxiii. 7. + L(v. xix. 32.

Confolatlons of the Aged. iSj

characters of paft and prefent times ; to trace the hand of Providence,
in all the incidents of your own lot ; to contemplate with thoughtful
eye, the fuccelTive new appearances which the world has afTumed a-
round you, in government, education, opinions, cuftoms, and modes
of living; thefe are employments, no lefs entertaining than inftruc-
tive to the mind.

While you are engaged in fuch employments, you are, perhaps, fur-
rounded with your families, who treat you with atteRtion and refped;
you are honoured by your friends ; your charadler is eftablilhed ; you
are placed beyond the reach of clamour, and the Ji rife of tongues ; and,
free from diftraCling cares, you can attend calmly to your eternal in-
tercfts. For fuch comforts as thefe, have you not caufe moll; thank-
fully to acknowledge the goodnefs of heaven ? Do they not afford yom
ground to pafs the remainder of your days in refignation and peace j
difpofing yourfelves to rife in due time, like fatisfied gueffs,
from the banquet that has been fet before you ; and to praife and
blefs, when you depart, the great Mafter of the feaff r To a man
that is good in his fight, whether he be young or old, God give thwifdom-,
(Old knowledge, and joy. For every feafon of life, the benignity of his
providence hath prepared its own fatisfa£lions, while his wildom hath
•appointed its peculiar trials. No age is doomed to total infelicity;
provided that we attempt not to do violence to Nature, by feeking la
extort from one age, the plealures of another ; and to gather, in the

V/inter of life, thofe flowers which were deflined to bloirom only

in its Summer, or its Spring.

But perhaps it will be faid, That I have confidered old age oniy
in its firfl flages, and in its mofl favourable point of light \ before the
faculties are as yet much impaired, and when difeafe or afflidion has
laid no additional load on the burden of years. Let us then view it
with all its aggravations ofdiffrefs. Let us fuppofc it arrived at its ut-
moft verge, worn out with infirmities, and bowed down by ficknefs and,
forrow. Still there remains this confolation, that it is not long ere
the weary /hall he at refi. Having pafTed through io many of the toils
of life, you may now furely, when your pilgrimage touches on its
clofc, bear, without extreme impatience, the hardfhips of its conclud-
ing flage. From the ineffimable promifes of the Gofpel, and from
the gracious prefence of God, the afJlidions of old age cannot feclude
you. Though your heart fhould begin to fatnt, and your feflj to faiU
there is One, who can be theftrength of your heart, and your portion
for ever. Even io your old age, faith the Lord, I am He ; and even to

hoary

184 . On the Duties arJ

hoary hairs tvill I carry you. I have made, and I iv'tU haar ; even I tvi'll
carry, and will deliver you ^. Leaue thy falherlejs children; 1 will pre-
Jerve them alive ; and let thy ividows truji in me t.

There is undoubtedly a period, when there ought to be a fatiety of
life, as there is of all other things ; and when death (hould be viewed,
as your merciful difmiflion from a long warfare. To come to the grave
in a full age-^ like as a Jhock of corn cometh in, in its Jeafon ±, is the na-
tural termination of the human courfe. Amidft multiplying infirmi-
ties, to prolong life beyond its ufual bodnds, and to draw out your ex-
iftence here to the laft and fouled dregs, ought not to bs the wifti
of any wife man. Is it defireable, to continue lingering on the bor-
ders of the grave, after every tie which connedls you with life is bro-
ken ; and to be left a foiitary individual, in the midltof a new generati-
on, vvhofe faces you hardly know ? The ihades of your departed friends
fife up before you, arid warn you, rhat it is time to depart. Nature
and providence fummon you, to ht gathered to your fathers. Reafon
admonifhes you, that as your predeceifors made way for you, it is
juft that you Ihould yield your place to thofe who have arifen to luc-
cced you on this bufy ftage ; who, for a while, fliall fill it with their
anions and their fufFerings, their virtues and their crimes ; and then
lliall, in their turn, withdraw, and be joined to the forgotten multi-
tudes of former ages.

Could death, indeed, be confidered In no other view than as the
clofeoflife, it would afford only a melancholy retreat. The total
extin6lion of being, is a thought, which human nature, in its mnft
dirtreifed circumltances, cannot bear without dejedion. But, bleiled
be God ! far other profpefts revive the fpirits of the aged, who have
fpent their life in piety and virtue. To them, death is not the ex-
tindlion, but the renovation of the living principle; its removal from
the earthly houfe of this tabernacle, to the hoiife not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens. Having fought the good fght ; having finijhed
their eourje, and kept the faith ; there is laid up for them the croim of
righteoufnefs. The Saviour of the world hath not only brought im-
mortality to light, but placed it within the reach, of their hope and
triift. By making atonement for their guilt, he hath prepared their
way tjoiihin the veil; and fecured to them, the poiTellion of an inheri-
tance, incorruptible and undc filed, referved in the heavens. Such

are the hopes and profpeds whith cheer the forrows of old age, and
itinnount the fear of death. Faith and piety are the only adequate
fupports of human nature, in all its great emergencies. After they
have guided us through the various trials of life, they uphold us, at
IJa. xlvi. 4. \Jer. xlix. ii. XJob, v. 26. laft,

»

Confolaticni cf the aged. 1 85

laft, amidfl the ruins of this falling frame; and when \\\t ftlver cord
is jiiji ready to be loafed, and the golden bowl to be broken; when the pitch ^
er is broken at the foufiiain, and the wheel broken at the cijiern ; they en-
able us to fay, 0 Death ! where is thy Jling ? O Grave I where is th^

V'.^ory \

SERMOM

( i86 )

S E R M O.N XIII.

On the P o w E R of C o n s c i e n c e.

Genesis, xlii. 21, 22.

And they fa'td one to another, IVe are verily guilty concerning our- hrotherf
in that xve jaw the anguijh of his foul, zvhen he bejought us ; and
zue tvould not hear : Therefore is this diftrefs come upm us. And Ru-
ben anfyjetcd them, f'iyi"g, Speak I not unto you, faying, Do not fin
(igainji the child ; and ye ivould not hear ? Therefore', behold alfo his
biood is required.

'"y H I S book of Gcnefis difplavs a more fingnlar and IntereRing
-fl- fcene, than was ever prefcnted to the world by any other hilto-
rical record. It carries us back to the beginning ot time, and exhi-
bits mankind in their infant and rifing Itate. It fliows us human
manners in their primitive fimplicity, before the arts of refinement had
pohlhed the behaviour, or difguifed the charaders of men ; when'
they gave vent to their paffions without diliimulaiion, and Ipoke their
leutiments without referve. ■Few great focieties were, as yet, formed
on the earth. Men hved in icattered tribes. The tranfailions of fa-
milies made the chiet materials oi hiftory ; and they are related in
this book, w ilh that beautiful limplicity, w-hieh, in the higheft: degree,
both delights the imagination, and affcds the heart.

01 all the patriarciial hiltories, thatofjolcph and his brethren is
the molt remarkable, for the charadeis ol the aclurs, the in(tni6live
nature of the events, aiid the iurprifing revolutions ot worldly fortune.
As tar as relates to the Text, and is necefiary for explaining it, the

llory is to the following purpofe : Jofeph, the youngefl, except

one, of the fons of Jacob, was didinguilhcd by his father with fuch
marks of peculiar affection, as excited the envy of his brethren.
Having related to them, in the opennefs of his heart, certain dreams
which portended his future advancement above them, their jealouiy
xo[e. to fuch a height, tliat they uniiaturally tonfpired his deliruction.
Seizing the opportunity of his being at a diflance from home, they
firil threw him into a pit, and afterwards fold him tor a flave ; im-

poling

On the Power ' I Sj

pofing on their father by a falfe relation of his tieath. When they
had thus gratified their refentment, they loft all remembrance of their
crime. The family of Jacob was rich and powerful ; and feveral yeais
paifed away, during which they lived in profpeiity; without being
touched, as far as appears, with the leail remorfe for the ciutl deed
which they had committed.

Meanwhile, Jofeph was faftly conduced, by the hand nfProvL
(Llence, through a variety o{ dangers, until, from the loweft condition,
he roi'e at laft to be chief favourite of the. King of Egypt, jhe molt
jiowerlul monarch at that time in the vvojUl. While he poilelled this
high dignity, a general famine dilbelTcd all the neighbouring countries
In Eijypt alone, by means ot his forefight find prudent adminillrati-
on, plenty Hill reigned. Compelled to have recourfe to that kingdom
for iupply of food, the brethren of joleph, upon this occaficn, ap-
peared in his prefence, and made their humble application to him, for
liberty to purchafc corrt ; little fufpeding the Governour of the land,
before whom they hoivcd ckvjn their jcices to the earth, to be him,
whom, long ago, they had fold as a (lave to the Ilhmaclites. But Jofeph
no fooner faw, than he knew his brethren ; and, at this unexpecled
meeting, his heart mclied within him. Fraternal tendernefs a'rofe in
all its warmth, and totally effaced from his generous breait the impref-
lion of their ancient cruelty. Though, from that moment, he be-
gan to prepare for them a furprife of joy; yet he fo far confiraincd
himfelf, as to aOlmie an appearance of great feverity. By this he in-
tended, both to oblige them to bring intp Egypt his youngeft and moft
beloved brother, whofe prefence he inltantly required ; and alfo, to
awaken withixi them a due iQi\{^ of the crime which they had former-
ly perpetrated. Accordingly, his behaviour produced the defigned
cfleiSt. For while they were in this fltuation, Grangers in a fo-
reign land, where they had fallen, as they conceived, into extreme
diiirefs ; where they were thrown into piifon by the Governour, and
treated with rigour, for which they could aihgn no caufe ; the reflec-
tion mentioned in the Text arofe in their m.inds. Confcience brought

to

to remembrance their former fins. It recalled, in particular, their Ion<'
forgotten cruelty to Jofeph ; and, without hefitaiion, they interpret-
ed their prefent diftrefs to be a judgment, for this crime, indidled
by Heaven. They f aid one to another. We are verily guilty concerning
cur brother, in that we Jaw the anguijh of his foul ivheu he l^ ff ought us ^

and ive would not heart therefore is this dijirefs come upon us.- Be^

hold afo his blood is required.

From this inftru^live palfage of hiftory, the following obfervations
naturally arile. I. That a fenfe of right and wro-ng in condu<f>, o?

of

sSS of Conjcleme.

of moral good and evil, belongs to human nature. II. That itprO"
rfuccs an apprehenfion of merited puniftiment, \^'hen we have
committed evil. III. That although this inward fentiment be ftifled
during the feafcn of profperity, yet in adverfity it will revive. And,
IV. That, vi'hen it revives, it determines us to confider every diftrels
which we fuffer, from what caufe foe\er it has arifcn, as an adual in-
flidtion of punifiiment by Heaven. The confideration of tliefe par-
ticulars will lead us to a very ferious view ol the nature of man, and
of the government of God.

I. There belongs to human nature, a fenfe of moral good and
jEvil, or a faculty which dillinguifhes right from wrong, in adlionand

condu6l. They fuld one to another ^ We are verily guilty. In an age,

when the law was not yet given, when no external revelation of the
Pivine will fubfifted, except what had been handed down among the
Patriarchs, from one generation to another; the brethren of Jofeph
reafoned concerning their conduit, upon the fame moral principles,
and were afFeiSled by the fame feelings, of which we arc confcious at
this day. Such fentiments are coeval with human nature ; for they
^re the remains of a law which was originally written in our heart,
3n the darkeft regions of the earth, and among the rudeft tribes of
men, a diftindlion has ever been niade between juft and iinjuft, be-
tween a duty and a crime. Throughout all the intercourfe ol human
beings thefe diftindiions are fuppofed. They are the foundation of
the mutual trufl: which the tranfadions of life require ; nay, the vei:y
entertainments of fociety conftantly appeal to them. The Hiftorian,
whoftudies to magnify his hero, by reprefenting him as juft and ge-
nerous ; the Poet, who feeks to intereft the world in his fidions*
by engaging the heart in behalf of dillreffed virtue ; are fufficient to
confute thefceptic, who denies any natural perception of adiltindlion
in a£lions.

But though a fenfe of moral good and evil be deeply impreiTed on
the heart of man, yet it is not of fuflicient power to regulate his life.
In his prefent corrupted Hate, it Is both too general to afford him full
diredion in conduft, and too feeble to withftand the oppofition of con-
trary plinciptes in his nature. It is often perverted by ignorance and
fuperftition ; it is too eafily overcome by padion and defire. Hence,
the importance of that Divine revelation, which communicates both
light and ftrength : which, by the inftru£live discoveries it makes, and
by the powerful afliflance it fupplics, raifes man to a flation infinitely
Juperiouv to that which he poifeircs under the mere light of Nature.
It is of confequence, however^ to remark, That this revelation necef-

farily

On the P ewer 1S9

farily fuppofes an antecedent fenfe of right and wrong to take place in
the human mrnd. It addrelTes itfelf to men, as poficned o{ fuch a fa-
culty ; and, when it commands them, in general terms, to purfue
Xvhatjoever things are true, whatjoever things are honejl, ivh'ilfcever things
are juj}, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there
he any praife, it plainly appeals to the native didates of their heart.
}>Jay, unlefs men were endowed by Nature with fome fenfe of duty,
or of moral obligation, they could reap no benefit Irom revelation ;
they would remain incapable of all religion whatever. For, in vain
were a fyflem of duty prefcribed to them by the word of God ; allegi-
ance were in vain required towards their Creator, or love and grati-
tude enjoined towards their Redeemer ; if, previoufly, there was no
principle in their nature, which made them feel the cbligations of
duty, of allegiance, and of gratitude. They could have no ideas cor-
refponding to fuch terms ; nor any convidion, that, independently
of fear or intereft, they were bound to regard, either him who made,
or him who redeemed them. — This, therefore, is to be held as a
principle fundamental to all religion, That there is in human nature,
an approving or condemning fenfe of conduct ; by means of which,
they zvho have not the law, are a law unto themfelve^ *. They who, from
a miftaken zeal for the honour of Divine revelation, either deny the
exiflence, or vilify the authority of natural religion, are not aware,
that by difa)lowing the fenfe of obligation, they undermine the foun-
jlation, on which revelation builds its power of commanding the heart.
The Text leads us to obferve, That one of the cafes in which the
natural fenfe of good and evil opperates moft forcibly, is when men
have been guilty of injuRice or inhumanity. We faw the anguijh of our
brother's foul when he bef ought us, and we would not hear. An inward
principle prompts us to do good to others; but with much greater au-
thority, it checks and condemns us, when we have done them injuries.
This part of the human conftitution deferves to be remarked as a fig-
nal proof of the wifdom of its Author, and of the gracious provifion
which he has made for the welfare of mankind. We are all com-
mitted, in fome meafure, to the care and aflinance of one another.
But our mutual influence reaches much farther with rcfpe£l to the evils,
than with refpecl to the enjoyments, of thofe around us. To advance
their profperity, is often beyond our ability ; but to infliil injuries, is
almoft always within our power : And, at the fame time, felf-intereft
very frequently tempts us to commit them. With the utmoff propri-
ety, therefore, we arc fo framed, that the influence of the moral prin-
ciple fhould be moft authoritative, in cafes where its aid is moft need-
edi that to promote the happinefs of others, fhould appear tons as
" /vi?AV. ii. 14. praifeworthy,

JQ'^ ef Confdeme.

praifeworthy, indeed and generous; but that, to abflain from in-
juring them, (hoiild be felt as matter of ilie Ibi6'tell duty. — Amidd
the difirefs which the Patriarchs fuffered in Egypt, had only this fug-
geftion occurred, '• We faw our brother beginning to profper, and
M'e contributed not to his advancement," their rr.inds v/ould have
■ -been more eaiily quieted. But, v.-hen their refitdion was, PFe Joija
his avguijhivhcnhe bej'iught usy andweu-ould not hear, then compuncli-
On turned upon them its iharpeft edge. I proceed to obferve,

II. That our natural feiife of right and wrnng, produces an appre-
henfion of merited punifhment when we Iiave comrnitted a crimel
"When it is employed in liirveying the behaviour of others, it diftin.-
giii(]ies fome actions, as laudable and exctllent ; and difapproves of
others, as evil and bafe. 'But when it is dirc^led upon our own con*
dud, it atfumes a higher office, andexercifesthe authority of a judge.
It is then properly termed Conlcience ; and the fentiments which it
awakens, upon the perpetration of a crime, are flyled, Remorfe.
"J herefore, faid the brethren of Jofeph, is this difoefs come upon us ;
behold aljo his blood is required. They acknowledged, not only that
they had cotriniitted a wrong, but a wrong for which they were jufUy
doomed to fuffer.

Did not confcience fuggeft this natural relation between guilt and
punifnment, the mere principle of approbation, or difapprobation,
with refpecSt to moral condud, would prove of fmall efficacy. For
difapprobation attends, in fome degree, every convi£lion of impro-
priety or folly. V/lien op.e has a£led nnfuitably to his interef}^, or
has trefpalfed againft the rules of prudence or decorum, he refle6iS
upon his condutSl with pain, and acknowledges that he deferves
bbmc. But the difference between the fenle of mifcondu£l, and
the feufe of gniit, confilfs in this, that the latter penetrates inuch
fieeper into the heart. It makes the crimiinal feci, that he is not
only blamable, but jufily puuifliable, for the part which he has
a<51ed. With reference to this office of confcience, the infpired
writers frequently fpeak of it, in terms borrowed from the awful fo-
lemn.tics of juilicial procedure ; as, hearing witntjs for or ngawll us ; ac~
•ctif.ng or excujmg, judging and condemning. 1 1 will be found, thajt in
the language of moft nations, terms of the fame import are applied
to the operations of confcience ; expreffing the fenfe, which all
mankmd have, of its palling lentence upon them, and pronouncing
rewards or punilhments to be due to their a£lions.

The fenfe of punifhment merited, you are further to obferve, can
never be feparated trum the dread, that, ai fome time or other, pu-

niflunent

0;7 the Pczver j^i

niflimcnt /hall be aflually infii£ted. This dread is not confined, ta
the vengeance of man. Fur Itt the rinoc-r's evil deeds be ever fb
thoroii'ihlv concealed from the knowledge of. the \vor!d, his in\v:rrri
alarms are nor quieted by th.at confideratjon Now, punifhment is
the fdp.cxion ot a law. Every la-w fuppofes a rightful fuperiour:
Anc! therefore, when confcience threatens punilliment tofecret crimes,
it riiaiiifclily -recogfiifcs a fupreme Governotir, from wh.orn nothing
is ii.iuden. Tlie belief of our being accountable to hini, is what the
mod hardened wickejnefs has never been able to eradicate. It is a
belief which arifes, iiot merely from reafbning, but from internal
fentiii^ent. Confcicnce is felt to a6t as the delegate of an invihblc
ruler ; both anticipating his fentence, and'forcboding its execution.

ilence arife the terrours, which fo often haunt guilt, and rife in
rropoiiion to its atrocity. In the hiltory of all nations, the tyrant
z:d the opprdTor,' the bloody and fhe flagitious, have been ever point
ed out, as fcartul, unquiet, and reftlels ; fnbjedl to alarms and ap-
prchcnhons oi an unaccountable kind. And furely, to live under fuch
uiiquietude, irom tiie dread or merited punilhment, is already to un-
dergo one ot the mod feverc punifhments which human nature can
fuffer. When the world threatens us with any ol its tvWs, we know
the extent, and difcern the limits of the danger. We fee the quar-
ter, on which we are cxpofed to its attack. We mcafure our ova
ftrength with that of our adverfary ;. and caii take precautions, ei-
ther tor making re'lidance, or for contriving efcape. ~ But when ata
awakened conlciencs places before the iiniicr the jnft vengeance o^
the Ahnigfity, the profpedt is confounding, bccaufc the dangec
is boundlcls. it is a dark unknown which threatens him. Tha;
arm that is (iretched over him, he can neither fee nor refut. On
every fide he drea * it; and on every object which Inrround-: himj
he looks with teriour, becaufc It^ is confeicrus tl'.at every objucl cait
be employed agaiiift liim as an inftrumcnt of wrath. No woiuief
that tlie loneiome (olitude, or the midnight hour, fhoold ftrike hinj
with horror. His troubled mind beholds forms, which other men
iee not; and hears voices, which (bund only in the ear of guilt. A
hand appears to come forth, and to wiite upon the wall over againft
him, as it did of nld, in the hght of an irnoious monarch, He Jhalf
find no eafe, mr rejh For the Lord fljall give him a tritnblifig h'art, and
failing if eyes, and for row of mind: And his lifefiall hang m d-jukt be-
fore him ; arid he fljall fear day and night ^ and have none offiircmce of his
life. In the morning hejhalljay, Would to Gud it were even ; and ai
even, hefjc^llfay, Woi^ld to God it were morning, for the fear of his heart
whcnwilh be Jhallfear, and J or the fghl which his e^cs Jhuilfe. HJf

Ufs

tgos, of Cohfctence,

iifejhall legr'uvousuntohm *. — Adverfity! how blunt are all the ar-
rows of thy quiver, in comparifon with thofe of guilt ! — But if fuch
be the power of confcience, whence, it may be afked, comes it to
pafs, that \is influence is not more general, either in rertraining
men from the commiffion ot fin, or in leading them to a timely re-
pentance? This brings me to oblerve,

III. That, during a courfe of profperity, the operations of con-
fcience are often fufpended; and that adverfity is the feafon which
reftors them to their proper force. At the time when crimes are
committed, the mind is too much heated by paflion, and engroffed by
the objed\ of its purfuit, to be capable of proper refledlion. After
this tumult of fpirits has fubfided, if a train of new paffions be at
hand to employ its adlivity, or a fuccefiion of pleafurable objedts oc-«
cur to engage its attention, it may for a while remain, though not
entirely free from inward mifgivings, yet unconfcious of the degree
of its guilt. Diflipated among the amufcments of life, the finner ef.
capes, in fome meafure, from his own view. If he lefledls upon
himfelf at all, the continuance of profperity feems to him a (IrOng
juftification ot his condud. For it will be found, that in the hearts
of all men, there is a natural propenfity to judge of the favour ol the
Supreme Being, from the courfe of external events. When they are
borne with a Imooth gale along the flream of life, and behold every
thing proceeding according to their wifh, hardly can they be brought
to believe, that Providence is their enemy. Bafking in the fun-fhinc
of profperity, they fuppofe themfelves to enjoy the ftnile of indul-
gent Heaven ; and fondly conclude, that they are on terms of friend-
ihip, with all above, and with all below. Eafy they find it, then,
to fpread over the grolfeft crimes a covering, thin/ indeed, and flight,
yet fufFiCient to conceal them from afuperfieial view.

Oi this we have a very remarkable inftance, in thofe brethren of
Jofeph, whofe hiftory we now confider. Not only from the filence
of the ijifpired writer, we have ground to believe that their retnorfe
was ftifled, while their profperity remained ; but we are able to trace fome
of 'the pretences, by which, during that period, they quieted their
mind?. For when they were contriving the deftrudiion of Jofeph,
we find Judah faying to his brethren, I'Vkat profit is //, If %ve jluy our
hrother, and conceal his blood ? Let us fell him to the Ifwiaelites ; and let
not our hand be upon him ; fir he is our brother, and our f.ejh: And his
brethren were content \. Here you behold them juftifying their crime*
* Deut, xxviii. 65, 66, 67. Ifa. xv. 4, by

X Cen. xxxvii. 26, 27.

of Cmjc'ience. 19?

by a fort of pretended humanity \ and making light of felling their
brother for a Have, becaufe they did not take away his life. How
ftrangely are the opinions of men altered, by a change in their condi-
tion 1 How different is this fentimcnt of the Patriarchs, from that
which they afterwards entertained of the fame aftion, when,
as you fee in tlie Text, the remembrance of it wrung their hearts
with anguifli ?

But men, in truth, differ as much from themfelves, in profperitv,
and in adverfity, as if they were different creatures. In profperity,
every thing tends to flatter and deceive. In adverfity, the illufions of
life vanilh. Its avocations, and its picafures, no longer ar'^ord the
fmner that (lielter he was wont to find from confcience. Formerly
he made a part of the crowd. He now feels himfelf a folitary indivi-
dual, left alone with God, and with his own mind. His fpirits are
not fupported, as beibre, by fallacious views of the favour of Heaven.
Tiie candle of the Lord fhines not on his head ; his pride is humbled ;
and his afFc6lions are foftened for receiving every ferious impr-.-flion.
in this lltuation, a man's iniquity is fiire to find him out. Whatever
has been notoriouflv criminal in his former conduct, rifes as a fpcftre,
and places itfelf before him. The increafed fenfibility of his mind
renders him alive to feelings- w-hich lately were faint; and woimds
which had been ill healed bleed afrefh. When tncn take the timbrel
and the harp, and rejoice af the found of the organ, they fay, What is the
Almighty that vje fiioidd ferve him r But when they are holden in the cords
ef affiiSiion, then he Jlnwcth them their work, and their tranfgreff ion, that
they have exceeded. He ope net h aJfo their ears to difcipline ; and command-
eth, that they return from iniquity.

Hence, we may perceive the great ufefulnefs and propriety of t!-: -.-
interchange of conditions, which takes place in human life. By pici-
perity, God gives fcope to our paiiions, and makes trial of our difpo-
fitions. By adrerfity, he revives the ferious principle within. Nei-
ther the one, nor the other, could be borne entire and unmixed.-
Man, always profperons, would be giddy and infolent; always afBi«Sl-
ed, would be fuUen and defpondent. Hopes and fears, joy and for-
row, are, therefore, fo blended in his life, as both to give room for
Worldly purfuits, and to recall, from time to time, the admonitions
of confciencR. Of the proportion in which they (hould be mixed for
tl^is purpofe, we are very incompetent judges. From our ignorance
of the degree of difcipline, which the fpiritual (late of others requires,
we often cenfure Providence unjuftly, for its feverity towards them;
Andj from the vanity and rafiinefs of our wifhes, we complain, with.

A a out

194- O'' '^^^ Power

out rcafon, of its rigour to ourfelves. While wc confblt nothing but
our eafe, God attends to our fpiritual improvement. When we I'eek
what is pleafing, he fends what is uretul. When, by drinking too
deep of worldly profperity, we draw in a fecret poifon, he mercifully
infufes a medicine, at the time that he troubles and embitters the wa-
ters. It remains now to oblerve,

IV. That when confcience is thoroughly awakened, it determines
theXuiner to confider every calamity which he fuffers, as a pofitive in-
flidion of punifliment by Heaven. As it had before alarmed him
with threatenings of Divine difpleafure, it tells him, when he tails under
diftrefs, that the threatened day of account is come. Afflidions, on fome
occafibns, rife diredtly out of our fins. Thus difeafes are brought on
by intemperance ; poverty forings from idlenefs ; and difgrace from
prefumption. In fuch cafes, the punifhment is fo clofely connedled
with the crime, that it is impoffible to avoid difcerning the relation
which the one bears to the other. But the appointment of Providence,
which we now confider, reaches farther than this. God has framed
us fo, that diftrelTes, which have no perceivable connexion with our
former crimes, are neverthelefs interpreted by confcience, to be infiid-
ed on their account. They force themfclves upon our apprehenfion,
under this view. They are made to carry, not only that degree of
pain which properly belongs to themfelves, but that additional tor-
ment alfo, which arifes from the behef oi their being the vengeance
of the Almighty.

Leta man fall urrexpededfy into foitie deep calarnity. Let that"
calamity be brought upon him, either by means which the world calls
fortuitous ; or by a train of incidents, in which his own mifcondud,
or guilt, has apparently had no part ; yet one of the firft queftions,
which, in fuch a fituation, he puts to himlelf, is, What have I done
to deferve this ? His reflection is, almoft inflindively, drawn back up-
on his former life ; and if, in the courfe of that retrofped, any flag-
rant guilty deed occur to fmite his confcience, on this he cannot a-
void refling with anxiety and terrour, and conneding it in his ima-
gination wiih what he now fuifers. He fees, or thinks that he fees,
.a Divine arm lifted up ; and what, in other circimnftances, he would
havecalleda reverfe of fortime, he now views as a judgment of Heaven.
When the brethren of Jofeph, confined in the Egyptian prifon,
were bewailing the diflrefs into which they had fallen, there was no
circnmf^ance which pointed out any ' relation between their prefent

misfortune, and their former cruelty to their brother, A long courfe

of

of Conjcience, 1^5

.-of years had intervened, during which they flourifhed in wealth and
eafe. They were nov/ far from the fcene of their crime ; in a fo-
reign land, where they beUeved themfelves utterly unknown, and
where they had done nothing to ofFcnd. But conlcience formed a
connexion between events, which, according to the ordinary appre-
henfion of men, were entirely independent of each other. It made
them recollect, that tliey, who once had been deaf to the fupplicati-
ons of a brother, were now left friendlefs and forlorn, imploring pity
in vain from an unrelenting Governour ; and that they who had firft
confpired to kill their brother, and afterwards fold him for a flave.
Were themfelves deprived oi liberty, and threatened with an ignomi-
nious death. How undefervedly foever tbefe evils befell them on the
part of men, they confefTed them to be juft on the part cf Providence.
They concluded the hour of retribution to be arrived ; and, in the
perfon of the Governour cf Egypt, they beheld the Ruler of the
world calling them, to account for guilt. Therefore is this d'ljirejs come
upon us. Behold nljo his blood is required.

Similar fentiments on like occafions, wiil be found not uncom-
mon among mankind. Pious men, there is no doubt, are at all times
difpofed to look up to God, and to acknowledge his hand in every
event of life. But what I now obferve is, That where no ha--
bitual acknowledgment of God takes place ; nay where a daring
contempt of his authority has prevailed, confcience, neverlhelefs,
conftrains men, in the day of their diftrefs, to recognize God, under
the mofl awful of all chsraders, The avenger of part guilt.

Herein the wifdom of God appears in fuch a light, as juftly to
claim our highefi: admiration. The ordinary courfe of his Providence
is carried on by human means. He has fettled a train of events,
which proceed in a regular fuccciTion of caufes and effects, without
his appearing to interpofe, or to a<St. But thefe, on proper occafions,
are made to afFeil the human mind, in the fame manner as if he
were beheld defcending from his throng , to punifh the finner with
his own hand. Were God to fufpend the laws of Nature, on occa-
fiOH of every great crime that was cornmitted on earth, and to go-
vern the world by frequent interpofitions of a miraculous kind, the
whole order of human affairs would be unhinged ; no plans of afti-
on could be formed ; and no fcope would be given for the probation
and trial of men. On the other hand, were the operation of fecond
caufes allowed to conceal a Divine hand totally from view, all fenfe
of fuperior government would be lolt; the world would feeni to be
void of God ; the finner would perceive nothing but chance and for-
tune

l()6 Oil lie Power

tune in the tliftrefres which he fnfFereii, Whereas, by its bein?; fo
ordered, that feveral incidents of life fhall carry the fame force, and
itrike the mind with the fame innpreflion, as it they were fupernatu-
ial interpofitions, the fear ot God is kept aUve among men, and the
nider of human affairs is, at the fame time, preferved unbroken.
The fin ner fees his diibels to be the immediate efFe£\ of human vio-
lence or oppreflion ; and is obliged, at the fame moment, to confider
it as a Divine judgment. His confcience gives to an ordinary mif-
fortune, all the edge and the fling of a vifiiation from Heaven,

From the train of thought which the Text has fuggef^ed, feveral
inferences naturally follow. But I fiiuU confine myfelfto two, whieh
claim your particular attention.

, The firft is, the clear evidence which the preceding obfervations af-
ford, of a Divine government now exercifed over mankind. This
molt important and awful of all truths, cannot be too often prefented
to our view, or too ftrongly impreffed on our mind. To the imper-
fe£l convidion of it, which obtains in the world, muft be afcribed, in
a great meafure, the prevalence of fin. Did men frrmly believe that
the Almighty Being, who formed them, is carrying on a fyftem of ad-
miniftration which will not leave guilt unpunifhed, it is impoflible
that they could remain fo inattentive, as we often behold them, to
their moral condu6ti But the bulk of mankind are giddy and thought-
lefs. Struck by the fuperficial appearances of pleafure, which accom-
pany licentioufnefs, tliey inquire no farther ; and deliver themfelves up
to their fenfes and their pallions. Whereas, were they to refle<?t,
but for a moment, upon that view which has now been given of hu-
man nature, they might foon be fatisfied, that the moral government
of God is no matter of doubtful difcuflion. It is a faft, no lefs ob-
vious and incontelkble, than the government exercifed by thofe earth-
ly rulers, whom we beh(vld with the enfigns of their ciiice before our
eyes.

To govern, is to require a certain courfe ol action, or, to prefcribe
a law ; and to enforce that law by a fuitable diitribution ot rewards
and punifhmcnts. Now, God has not only invf fled confcience, as
we have fcen, with aulhori^y to promulgate, but endowed it alfo
' with power to enforce, his law. By placing inward approbation
and peiice on the Tide of virtue, he gave it the fandion of reward/
But this was not enough, ' Pain is a more powerful principle than
pleafure. To efcape mifcrv is a flrongef motive iot action, than to^
obtain good. God, therefore, io framed human nature, that the
:-•• paiijful

cf Covjacncc. i^J

^i^aliiful feiife of ill-defert Ibould atit- nd the comrnlfllon of crimes ; that
iliis lenlc of ill-defert (hould necrllarily produce the dread of punilh-
ment ; and that this dread fliould (o operate on the mind, in the time
ofdiitrels, as to make ihe linner conceive Providence to be ensasjed
againd him, and to be concerned in iniii£ling the punifhment which
he fuffers. Ail thefe imprellions he hath Itamped npon the heart wiih
his own hand. He halh m.icie them conltitucnt parts of our frame j
on purpofe, that by the iiniiri or lo many llrong and pungent fenti-
nients, he might enforce repentance and reformation, and publifh to
the human race his detellation of fin. Were he lo fpeak to us frc.au
the clouds, his voice could net be more dccifive. What we difcern
to be interwoven with the contextuie of human naime, and to pervade
the whole courfe ot hinnan afFairs, carries an evidence -not to be re-
filled. We might, with as iniieh reafon, doubt whether the fun was
intended to enlighten the earth, or the rai-n to fertilize it; as whether
he who has framed the human mind, intended to announce lightc-
oufnefs to mankind, as his law.

The fecond inference which I make from the foregoing difcourfc,
fefpefts the intimate connexion, which thofe operations of confcience
lave, with the peculiar and dilVmguilhing dodrines of the Gofpel of
Chrift. They will be found to accord with them fo remarkably, as
to furnifli an anfwer to fonre of thofe objedlions, which fuperficial
reafoncrs are apt to raife againd the Chriflian revelation. In particu-
lar, they coincide with that awful view which the Gofpei gives us, of
the future confequences of guilt. If the Tinner is now conftrained by
confcience, to view the Almighty as purfuing him with evil for long-
forgotten crimes, how naturally mud he conclude that, in a fubfe-
quent period of exigence, the Divine adminiflration will proceed upon
the fame plan, and complete what has been left imper(e6t here ? If, dur-
ing this life, which is only the time of trial, the difpleafure of Provi-
dence at fin is difplayed by tokens fo manlfeft, what may be appre-
hended to follow, whenjurtice, which at prefent only begins to be
executed, fhall be carried to its confummationr What confcience
forebodes, revelation verifies ; alluring us that a day is appointed*
when Goe/ will render to every man according to his works ; to ihem^ who
hy patient continuance in well-doings feck for glory, honour, and immorln-
Hty ; eternal hfe : But unto them that are contentious , and obey not the
truth, hut obey unrighteoufnefs ; indignation and wrath, trihuhtion and an-
guij])-, upon every foul of man that doth evil, of the fezv fijl, and alfo of
the Gentile. For there is no rcjpe£l of perfons ivith God, Ftr as many

as

T^§ On the Power, Sec.

as have firmed vj'tthoui the law, flmll aJjo perijh U)lthoui the Jaw ; and ^s

many as have Jinnedin the law, jhall he judged by the law *.

While the threatenings of confcience thus ftrengihen the evidence
of the fcripture do£lrine concerning future puailhments, they like-
•wife pave the way for the behef ot what is revealed concerning the
inethod of our deliverance by. Chrifl. They fuggeft to the finner,
fome deep and dark malignity contained in guilt, which has drawn
Bpon his head fuch high difpleafure from Heaven. They call forth
Bis moft anxious efforts, to avert the efFedts of that difpleafure ; and
to propitiate his offended Judge. Some atonement, he is confcious,
muit be made; and the voice of Nature has, in every age, loudly de-
manded fuffering, as the proper atonement for guilt. Hence mankind
Bave,conftantly fled for refuge to fuch fubftitutions, a§ they could de-
■vife to place in the room of the offender ; and, as by general confent,
vi6linis have every where been flain, and expiatory facxiF.ces have been
offered up on innumerable altars. IVherewith /ball I come before- the
Eord, and how niyjelf hefore the moji high God ? Shall I come before him
vjith burnt offerings, and calves of a year eld} JVill the Lord he pleafed
with thoufands of rams, or with ten thoufands of rivers of oil t Or, Jimll
I give my frjl horn for my tranfgreffion ; the fruit of viy body, for the fin
of viy foulW Thefe perplexities and agitations of a guilty confcience,
may be termed preludes, in fome meafure, to the Gofpel of Chriff.
They are the pointings of unenlightened Nature, towards that method
©f relief, which the grace of God has provided. Nature felt its inabi-
Ety to extricate itfelf from the confequences of guilt : The Gofpel
reveals the plan of Divine interpofition and aid. Nature confelfed
fome atonement to be neceffary : The Gofpel difcovers, that the ne-
cei^'ary atonement is made. The remedy is no (ooner prefented, than
its fuitablenefs to the difeafe appears ; and the great myffery of redemp-
tion, though it reaches, in its full extent, beyond our comprehenfiouj
yet, as far as it is revealed, holds a vifible congruity with the fcnti-
ments of Confcience, and of Nature.

Natural and revealed religion proceed from the fame Aathor ;
and, of courfe, are analogous and confident. They are part of the
fame plan of Providence. They are connefted meafures of the fame
fyflem of government. The ferious belief of the one, is the beft
preparation for the reception of the other. Both concur vn imprefling
cur mind with a deep fenfe of one moff important truth, which is the
fefult of this whole difcourfe, That as wefow now wemufi reap ; that
under the government of God, no one fhall be permitted, with impu-
nity, to gratify his criminal paflions, and to make light of the great
duties of life.
.» Rom. ii. 7—13. + Micshi vi. 6, 7. SERMON

( m )
SERMON XIV,

On the Mixture of J o y and F e a r in R e l i g i o w.

Psalm ii. ii.

Rejoice with trembling.

JOY and Fear, are two great fprings of human ailion. TlW
mixed condition of this world, gives fcope for both ; and, accord
ing as the one or the other predominates, it influences the genera! te-
nour of our conduct. Each of them poflefl'es a proj^er place in religi-
on. To Jerve the Lord with gladnefs, is the exhortation of the P£aU
mi(t David *. To Jerve hiyn with reverence and godly fear , is the ad-
monition of the Apoftle Paul f . But, under the prefcnt imperfedi-OA
of human nature, each ot thefe principles may be carried to a dange-
rous extieme. When the whole of religion is placed in joy, it is in
hazard of rifinginto unw'arrantable rapture. When it rtfl.s altogether
on iear, it degenerates into fuperflitious fervility. The Text enjoins
a due mixture of both ; and inculcates this important maxim, That
joy, tempered v/ith fear, is the proper difpofition of a good man. In
difcourfing of this fubjedl, I (hall endeavour to (how, fird, That joy '
is edential to religion ; and next, That, for various reafons, this joj
ought to be mixed with fear \ whence we fhall be able to afcertaia
the nature of that fteady and compofed fpirit, which is moft fuitable
\k> our prelent condition, and mofl acceptable to God.

I. Joy is effential to religion, in two refpecls ; as relrgion infpires
joy, and as it requires it. In other words j To rejoice is both the'
privilege, and the duty, of good men.

In the firft place. Religion infpires joy. It affords juft ground of
gladnefs, to all who firmly believe its dodrines, and fincerely ftudy to
obey its laws. For it confers on them the two mofl: material requi-
fites ot joy ; a favourable fituation of things without, and a propec
difpofition of mind within, to relifh that favourable fituation.

When they examine their fituation without, they behold them-
fclves placed in a world which is full of the influence of a graciou-s
Pjalm. c, 2. t Hihs Xii. ^%, . Pryvidcnce ; -

«

200 On ^e Mlxljirtof -

Providence ; where beauty and goad are every where predomlnaat ;
•where various comfiirts are bedowed ; and where, if. any be with-
held, they have reafon to believe that they are with-held by parental
wifdom. Atnong the crowd that encompafs them, they.may be at a
Io(s to difcern, who are their friends, and who their ejaemies. But it
is fiifficicht to know, that they are under the protetSion ot'an invifibte
Guardian, whofe power can keep them from every evil. All the
fteps of his conduct, they may be unable to trace. Events may befal
them, of which they can give no account. But as long as they are
fatisfied, that the fyftem of Divine government is founded on mercy,
no prefent occurrences are able to deftroy their peace. For he who
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for them, how pall he net
with hitn freely give them all things} If their nature is frail, Divineaf-
^Ptance is promifed to ftrensthen it. If their virtue is impelled, a
difpt^nfation is opened, which gives them the hope of pardon. If
their external circiimftances be in any refped unfavourable, it is be^
caufe a higher intereft is confulteJ. All things, they are aiTured, J})all
ivork together for their good. On their profpeiity refls, the bleffing ; on
iheir adverfity, the landifying Spirit of the Almighty. Old age may
advance, and life decay ; but beyond thofe boundaries of Nature, faith
opens the profpecl of their Idiling felicity. Without anxiety, they
pals through the different periods of their prefent exigence, becaufe
they know it to beno more than an introdudion to immortality,
r. As fuch a (iiuation of things without, lays a folid found-ition for
JPy 1 fo the difpofuion which religion forms within,, promotes the re-
iifli of It. It is indeed from within, that the chief fources of enjoy-
ment or trouble rife. The minds of bad men are always diforderly ;
and hence their lives are fo generally uneafy. In vain they take the
tiuihrel and the harp, and endeavour to rejoice at the found of the organ,
Spleen anddifguft purfuethem, through all the haunts of amufementi
Pride and ill humour torment them. OpprefTed with difcontent,
their fpirits flag ; and their worn out pleafures afford them entertain-
ment no more. But religion fubdues thofe malignant paffions, which
are the troublers of human repofe ; which either overcall the mind
■^ith the glooin ot peevifhncfs, or difquiet it by the violence of agi-
tation. It infufes, in their room, thofe mild and gentle difpofitions,
whofe natural effeil is to fmooth the tcnour of the foul. Benevolence
and candour, moderation and temperance, wherever they reign, pro-
duce cheerfulnefs and ferenity. The confcioufnefs of integrity gives
eafe and freedom to the raind. It enables good men to extrad from
- ■•;..■■ .■■-..;.■.-■ every _.j

Jcy and Bear in Religion. "^S--

every objeft, the whole fatisfa£tion which it is capable of yielding ;
and adds the flavour of innocence, to all their external pleafures.

In the lecond place, As religion naturally infpires joy ; fo, what
it infpires, it commands us to clierifli. As a neceffary proof of our
lincerity, .it requires cheerfulnefs in the performance of our duty ;
btcaufe, if this be wanting, our religion difcovers itfelf not to be ge-
nuine in principle, and in pradlice it cannot be ftsble.

Religious obedience, defiitute of joy, is not genuine in its principle.
For, did either faith or hope, the love of God, or the love of good-
ncfs, rule the heart, they could not fail to produce fatisfadion in
piety and virtue. Ail thofe caufes of joy which I have mentioned
v^'ould then operate ; and their native dStOi on the mind, would fol-
low. The profpeds which religion opens, would gladden, and the
affcdions which it infpires, would footh the heart. We ferve,. with
pleafure, the benefactor whom we love. We rejoice in every fiudy
and purfuit, to which we are Hncerely attached. If we ferve not
God with pleafure, it is becaufe we know him not, or love him not.
If we rejoice not in virtue, it is becaufe our affediion is alienated
frotn it, and our inclinations are depraved. We give too evident
proof, that ei;her we believe not the principles of religion, or that
we feel not their power. Exclude joy from religion ; and you leave
no other motives to it, except compulfion and intereft. But are thefe
fuitable grounds, on which to reft the whole of our obedience to the
Supreme Being ? My Jon, give me thy heart, is the call of God. Sure-
ly if there be no plealure in fulHliing his commands, the heart is not
given him ; and, in that cafe, the multitude of Jacrijices and burnt offer ^
ings is brought to his altar in vain.

As religion, deftitutc of joy, is imperfe£l in its principle ; {o, ia
practice, it muft be unliable. In vain you endeavour to fix any
man to the regular performance of that, in which he finds no plea-
fure. Bind him ever fofaft by interefl or fear, he will contrive fome
method of eluding the obligation. Ingenuity is never fo fertile cf
evafions, as where pleafure is all on the one ude, and mere precept
on the other. He may fludy to fave appearances. He may diircmble
and conftrain himfelf. But his heart revolts in fecret ; and the weight
of inclination will, in the end, draw the practice after it. If perfe-
verance is not to be expected, flill lefs can zeal be looked for from;
him, who, in his religious duties, trembles without rejoicing. Eve-
ry attempt towards virtue which he forms will be feeble and awkward.
He applies to it as a tafk : he dreads the taik-mafter j but he will labouc

Bb no

'SS^ tfn the Mixril'fe of

no more fhan neccffi!y enjoins. To efcape from punifliment is Tiis Tote
aim. He bargains ior immuniiy, by every duty which he performs ;-■
and all beyond, he efteems fnperfluous toil. — Such religion as this, caa
ttelther purify the heart, nor prepare for heavenly blifs. It is the re-
fuge of an abject mind^ It may form the ritual of the monk, or
prefcribe the penance of the idolater ; but has no concern with the
Homage of him, who worjhips the Father in f pi r it and in truth. His
character is, that the joy of the Lord is his Jirength^. It attaches'
fiis heart to religion. It infpires his zeal. It fupports his conftan-
cy ; and accelerates his progrefs.

There is no man but has fome obje£l to which he cleaves for en-
joyment ; fomewhat that flatters him with iliftant hope, or affords
him prefent pleafure. Joy is the end towards which all rational be-
ings tend. For the fake of it, they live ; it refembles the air they
breathe, which is necelfary for the motion of the heart, and all the
vital fua£lions. But as the breathing ot infe£led air proves fatal to
life ; in the fame manner joy, drawn from a corrupted fource, is def-
truflive, both of virtue and of true happipcfs. When you have no
plpafuire in. gooduefs, you may with certainty conclude the reafon to
be, that your pleafure is_ all derived from an oppofite quarter. You
have exliaufled your afF.6lion upon the world. You have druijk
Jtoomuch of itspoifoned waters, to have any relifh for a purefpring.
. Ertimale, therefore, the genuinenefs of your religious principles^
eftimate the degree of your flability in religious pra£lice, by the de-
gree of your fatisfaclion in piety and virtue. Be aifured, that where
.your treafure is, there will your delight be alfo. The worldly man
rejoices in his polTeffions ; the voluptuous in his pleafures 5 the foci-
al in his friends and companions. The truly good man rejoices in
doing jujliy, Iovi>?g tnercy, and zualking humbiy with the Lord his God.
He is happy, when employed in the regular dilcharge of the great du-
ties of life. Spontaneous they flow from the afFe£lions of a pure
. heart. Not only from the keeping of the divine commandments he
cxpefts, but in the keeping of them, he enjoys a great reward. — Accor-
dingly, in the fentiments ot holy men recorded in fcripture, we find
this fpirit every-vvhere prevalent. Their language was ; Thy fiat utes
^ave I taken as mint heritage for ever ; for they are the rejoicing of my
heart. They are my fongs in the houfe of my pilgrimage. They arefweet-
er than honey, and the honey-comb. Whom have I in heaven hut thee}
And there is none upon earth that I defire befdes thee. They did not re-
j^uyc the fpiril of bondage, hut the fpirit of adoption. . The^f were fille4
* Neh. viii. 10. lUith

Joy and Fear in Kehg'ion. Aog

'ipith fence and py- In believing. . The^ rejoiced in hipe of the glory ef Gcd. .
As Toon as the ^Ethiopian eunuch receivedfrom Philip the light of the,
.C^'pel, that light revived and cheered his heart. A new fun (ecmed.
.to arife ; a new j;lory to (liine around him. Every objcd brighten-
ed ; and hi went on his way. rejoicing *. After the fame manner fhould
every good man proceed in his JQurney through life, with aferene and
cheerful fpirit. Ccnfternation and dejedion let him leave to the
jQaves of guilty wl)o have every tlung to dread, both froni this world
and the next. If he appear before others with a difpirited afpe£l, he
dii'honours religion \ and affords ground for fufpicion, that he is either
ignorant of its nature or a Granger .to its power.

Thus I have Ihown ^oy to be efleatial to religion. It is the fpi*
rit which it infpires, and which it requires., in good men. But in our
prefent {late, the bef} principles may be carried to a dangerous excefs ;
•and joy, like other things, has its due limits. To ferve God with un-
miKed delight, belongs to more advanced fpirits in a happier world.
In this region of iiiiperfedlion, fome infufions from a different cup,
piuft of nccefliiy tirk£lure our joy. Let us then,

II. Turn to the other fide of the argument, and confider the rca-
fons which render it proper, that when we rejoice, we fliould rejoice
•with trembling.

In the firft place, becaufe all the obje£is oi religion, which afford
ground for joy, tend to infpirc, at the fame time, reverence and fear.
We ferve a Benefa£lor, it is true, in whom we have reafon to delight";
whofe purpofes are gracious ; whofe law is the plan of our happinefs.
But this Benefaflor, is the K.\ng eternal, immortal, and invifible ; iA.
^vhofe prefenc^ the mountains Ihake, and Nature trembles. Every
good, and every p^srfeSt gift , come doivn from him. But the hand which
confers them, we cannot fee. My^erious obfcurity refts upon his ef-
fence. He dwelleth in the fecret place of thunder ; and clouds anddirrK--
nefs furround him. He is the Hearer of prayer ; but we lift our
voice to him frorii afar. Into his immediate prefence no accefrrs
permitted. Our warmeft devotion admits no familiarity with him'.
God is in heaven, and thou upon earth ; therefore, let thy ivords he few.
If his omnilcience adminiflcrs comfort in our fecret diftrefs, it like.
wife fills with awe the heart that is confcious ot guilt. For, if he
knows eur frame, and remembers we are dujl ; cur iniquities, alio, are
"pier before him : our fecret fins, in the light ofhii countenance.

Throughout all his difpenfations, greatnefs, in conjun6\ion with
goodnefs, lliikes our vievy ; and wherever we biehold the Tarerrt, we
f A£is, Viii. 39. behold

204- On the Mixture of

behold the Legiflator alfo. The death of Chrift, in behalf of a grit-
ty world, is the chief ground of religious hope and joy. But it is no
\zk the ground of reverence; when, in this high tranfaciion, w'e con-
template God, as at once ftri£l in juftice, and great in mercy, I the
Lard keep mercy for thoujands of them that fear me. I forgive their ini-
quitv, tranfgrfffion, and Jin; but 1 will by no meat7s clear the guilty.
When we open the book of the Law, we find promifes and threat-
enings mingled in the fanrie page. On the one fide, we fee Hea-
ven difplayed in all its glory : On the other. Hell opening its terrours.
Jn Ibort, in whatever light we view religion, it appears folemti and
venerable. Jt is a temple full of majefty, to which the wofihippers
nay approach with comfort, in the ho^t o{ obtaining grace, and faiding
mercy; but where they cannot enter, without being imprelTed with
awe. If we may be permitted to compare fpiritual with natural
things, religion refembles not thofe fcenes of natural beauty, where
every obje6t fmiles. It cannot be likened to the gay landfcape,
or the flowery field. It refembles more the auguft and fublime ap-
pearances of Nature; the lofty mountain, the expanded ocean, and
the flarry firmament; at the fight of which, the mind is at once over-
awed and delighted ; and, from the union of grandeur, with beauty,
derives a pleafing, but a ferious, emotion.

In the fecond place, As joy, tempered by fear, fuits the nature
of religion, ^o it is requifite for the proper regulation of the condu£l
.6f man. Let his joy flow from the beO and pureft fource ; yet. it
it remain long unmixed, it is apt to become dangerous to virtue.
As waters which are never ftirred, nor troubled, gather a fediinent,
which pntrifies them ; fo the undifturbed continuance of placid fenfa-
tions engenders diforders in the human foul. It is wifely ordered in
our prefent ftate, that joy and fear, hope and grief, fliould adl alter-
nately, as checks and balances upon each other, in order to prevent an
■fexcefs in any of them, which our nature could not bear. If we were
iubje£l to no alarms of danger, the wifefl would Toon become im-
provident ; and the moPt humble, prefumptuous, Man is a pilgrim
on earth. Were his path to be always fmooth and flowery, he would
be tempted to relinquifh liis guide, and to forget the purpofe of his
journey. Caution 2nd fear are the fhields of happinefs. Unguard-
ed joy begets indolence; indolence produces ftcurity ; fecurity leads
to rafhnefs ; and rafhnefs ends in ruin. In order to rejoice long, it
•is necefTary that we rejoice with trembling. Had our firft parents ob-
feived this rule, man might have been fliil in paradilV.. He who faitJi

'Joy. and Fear in Ril'igton. 3^$

ip his heart, My mountain Jiands Jlrong ; I Jhallne'ber he nuwed ; -ma^
-be aflured, that his ftate already begins to totter. Religion, there-
fore, performs a kind office, in giving us the admonition of the Text-
It infpires cheerfulnefs in the fervice of God. It propofes joy, as
our chief fpririg of adion. But it fupports joy, by guarding it with
fear; not fuppreffing, but regulating its indulgence ; requiring us to
jejoice, hke perfons who have obtained a treafure, which, through
want of vigilance, they are expofed to lofe. Dependent beings are
formed for fubmiflion ; and to fubmit, is to (Vand in awe. Becaufe
the Lord reigneth, let the earth le glad. We are the fubje^ls of God';
and therefore may juftly rejoice. But ftill we are fubjcdts ; and,
therefore, trembling' muft mix itfelf with our joy.

In the third place, The unftable condition of all human things, nsE-
turally infpires fear in the midft of joy. The fpirit to which religi-
on lorms us, muft undoubtedly correfpond to ihe ftate in which we
are placed, and to the part which is afligned us to ad. Now, the
firfl view under which ourprefent ftate appears, is that of fallen crea-
tures, who are undergoing in this world, probation and trial for their
recovery ; and are commanded to luor'k out their Jahatlm VMlh fear and
tremhVwg. This view of our condition infers not habitual deje£fion
of mind. It require? not melancholy abftradion from the affairs, or
total conternpt of the amufements of life. But it infpires humility.
It enforces dependence on divine aid ; and calls lorih the voice of fup-
plication to Heaven. In a fituation fo critical, and where intcrefls fp
important are at ftake, every reafonable perfpn muft confefs, that feri-
oufnefs ought to temper rejoicing.

Were there in human life any fixed point of (lability and reft, at-
tainable by man; could we, at any one moment, alTure ourfelves,
that there remained no latent fource of danger, either to our temporal,
or our fpiritual (fate ; then I admit we might lay trembling afide,
and rejoice in full fecurity. But, alas ! no fuch fafe ftation, no ftich
moment of confidence, is allowed to man during his warfare on earth.
Vicifiitudesof good and evil, of trials and confolations, fill up his life.
The bcft intentioned are fometimes betrayed into crimes ; the moft
prudent, overwhelmed with misfortunes. The world is like awheel
jnceffantly revolving, on which human things alternately rife and fall.
What is part of our life has been a chequered fcene. On its remain-
ing periods, uncertainty and darknefs reft. Futurity is an unknown
region, into which no man can look forward without awe, becaufe he
cannot tell what forms of danger or trial may meet him there. Tliis
we know Wtlh that in every period of our life, the path oi happinefs

Ihall

20^ On the Mixture of

ihali be fciind fteep and arduous ; but fwift and eafy the defcent t0
rmn.- What, with much exertion of care and vigilance, we had built
Ijp,- one unwary a£lion may, in an evil hour, overthrow. The props
of human confidence are, in general, infecnre. The fphere of hu-
man pleafuresis narrow. While we form Tchemes for ftrengthening
the one, and for enlarging the other, death, mean-while, advances.
Life, uiih a fwifr, though infenfible courfe, glides away; and, like
a river which undermines its banks, gradually impairs our ftate. Year
after year fteals fomethincr from us ; till the decaying fabric totter of
itfelf, and crumble at length into du[>. So that, whether we ccnfi-
<ier life or death, timiC or eternity,' all things appear to concur in giv-
ing to man the admonition of the text, Rejoice with tremhlwg.

I HAVE now fhown, in what refpefis religion both promotes joy, and
inrpires (erioufnefs. It places us in the mod favourable fituation*
which human life affords, for joy \ and it gives us every afllflance, for
relifhing that joy. It renders it pur duty to cultivate the fatisfa£lion
which it yields. It demands a cheerful fpirit, in order to afcertain
the fincerity of our principles, and to confirm us in good practice. At
the fame time the joy which it infpires, is tempered with ftar by the
genius of religion itfelf ; by the danger to which unguarded joy would
expofe us; and by the impropriety of indulging it, in a fituation fo
mixed as the prefent. The tremhlwg wiiich is here enjoined, is not
to be usderflood as fignifying a pufillanimous dejection. It imports
no more than that caution and fobriety, which prudence di£lates, as
belorjging to our (late. By conne£ling fuch trembling with our joy,
religion means to recommend to us, a cheerful, but a compofed, fpi-
rit, equally remote from the humdliating deprefTion of fear, and the
exulting levity of joy. Always to rejoice, is to be a fool. Always
to tremble, is to be a flave. It is a moiieft cheerfulnefs, a chaflened
joy, ainanly ferioufnefs, which becoines the fervant of God.

But is this, it may perhaps be faid, the whole amount of that
boafted ratisfaflion which religion bellows ? Is this all thecompenfa-
tion which it makes, for thofe lacrifices it exads \ Are not the terms
which vice holds out far more enticing, when it permits us to gra-
tify every defire ; and, in return for our furmounting the timiorous fcru-
ples of confcience, pvomifes us a life of gaiety, feflivity, and unreflrain-

ed joy ? Such prcmifes vice may indeed make ; but, how far

it fulfils them, we may fafely refer to the determination of the greate^
ftnfualifV, when he ha? finifhed his carreer, and looks back on what
- - he

Joj and Fear in Religidn, ^J

Be has enjoyed^ Afk him, Whether he would- recohirnend- to his
children, and his friends, to hold the fame courfe ; and whether,
with his dying breath, he dare alFure them, that the gratifications of
licentioufnefs afford the greatelt enjoyment of life ? Whatever hopes
vice may at the beginning infpire, yet, after the trial is made, it has
be;en always louhd that Ciiminal pleafures are the bane ot happinefs,
tjhe poifon, not the coidial, of our prefent ftate. They are pleafures
compenlated by an infinite overbalance of pain j moments ot delight,
fucceeded by years of regret ^ purchafed at the expence ot injured
reputation, broken health, and ruined peace. Even abllra£ling ironi
their pernicious confequences, they are, for moft pait, in themfelves
treacherous pleafures ; unfound and difturbed in the moments of en-?
joyment. In the m'ldjl ofjuch laughter, the heart is Jorrowjul. Often
is the fmile of gaiety aiiumed, while the heart akes within : And
though folly niay laugh, guilt vviU (ling. Correcting this pernicious
phrenzy oi pleafure, and reducing if to a more fober and regilated
Itate, religion is, in truth, no other than wifdom, introducing peace
and order into the life of man.

While religion condemns fuch pleafures as are immortal, it is charge-
able with no improper aufterity, in refped of thofe which are ol an
innocent kmd. Think not, that by the cautious difcipline which it
prefcribes, it excludes you from all gay enjoyment of life. V/ithvri
the ccmpafs ot that fedate fpirit, to which it forms you, all that is in-
?ioce!;tly pleafing will be found to lie. It is a miltake to imagine,
that m conlfant afFufions of giddy mirth, or in that flutter of fpirits
which is excited by a round of diveriions, the chief enjoyment of our
llate confifts. Were this the cafe, the vain and the frivolous v;ould
be on better terms for happinefs, than the wile, the grtat, and the
good. To arrange the plans of amufement, or to prefide in the haunts
of jollity, would be more defjrable than to exert tlie higheil tfrort
of mental powers for the beneht of nations. A conlc-querice fo ab-
furd, is fuOicient to explode the principle from which it flows.. To
the amufements and leifer joys of the world, religion alligns their
proper place. It admits of them, as relaxations from care, as inftru-
ments of promoting the union of mien, and of enlivening their focial
interco'jrfe. But though, as long as they are kept within due bounds,
M does not cenfure nor condeinn them ; neither coes it propofe thent
as rewards to the \irtuous, or as the principal objeds of their purfuit,.
'To fuch, it points out nobler ends of adion. Their felicity it enga-
ges them to (eek, in the difcharge . ol au ufsful, ai) ,upr.ight, and h9.r

nouracle,

2o8^ On' the Mlxlure'of, &6,

jiouraWe part in life ; and, as the habitual tenour of their mind, it

promotes cheerfulnefs, and difcourages levity.

Between thefe two there is a wide diflin6lion ; and the mind which
is moft open to levity, is frequently a ftranger to cheerfulnefs. It
has been remarked, that tranfports of intemperate mirth, are often
no more than fiaflies from the dark cloud ; and that in proportion to
the violence of the effulgence, is the fucceeding gloom. Levity may
be the forced produ£lion of foHy or vice; cheerfulnefs is the natural
offspring of wifdom and virtue only. The one is an occafional agita-
tion; the other a permanent habit. The one degrades the charac-
ter 5 the other is perfeftly confiftent with the dignity of reafon, and
the-fteady and manly fpirit of religion. To aim at d conftant fuc-
ccflion of high and vivid fenfations of pleafure, is an idea of happinefs
altogether chimerical. Calm and temperate enjoymeht, is the iit-
" moft that is allotted to man. Beyond this, we ftruggle in vain toraife
our ftate ; and, in fa6l, deprefs our joys, by endeavouring tr. heighten
them. Inffead of thofe fallacious hopes of perpetual feftivity, with
which the world vvould allure us, religion confers upon us a cheerful
tranquility. Inftead of dazzling us with meteors of joy, which fparkle
and expire, it (beds around us a calm and fteady light. By mixing
trembling with our joy, it renders that joy more folid, more equal,
and more laf^ing.

In this fpirit, then, let us ferve God, and hold our courfe through
Ijfo. Let us approach to the Divine Being, as to a fovereign of whom
we flared in awe, and to a father in whom we truft. In otir condu<9t,
Jet us be cautious and humble, as thofe who have ground to fear ;
well pleafed and cheerful, as thofe who have caufe to rejoice. Let
us fhow the world, that a religious temper, is at temper fedate, not fad ;
that a religious behaviour, is a behaviour regulated, not ftifFand for-
mal. Thus we fhall vfe {he world, as not ahuf.rrg it ; we fhall pafs
through its various changes, with the leaft difcompofure ; and wc fhall
vindicate religion from the reproaches of thofe who would attribute
to it either enthufiaftic joys or ilavilh terrours. We (hall (how, that
it is a rational rule of life, worthy of the perfedion of God, and fuit-
ed to the nature and ftate of man.

SERMON

SERMON XV.

On the Motives to Constancy in V i r t u e^

>o<>0<>0"0"<3>'<2>' —

G AL AT. vi. 9.

And let us mi he vjearyinviell-dolug; for in due feafon i^e jhalt reap, if

•we faint not,

DISCONTENT is the moft general of all the evils whi.cli
trouble the life of man. It is a difeafe, which every where
finds materials to feed itfelf ; for if real diftrelTes be wanting, it fub-
ftitutes fuch as are imaginary in their place. It converts even the
good things of the world, when they have been long enjoyed, into
occafions of difgufl. In the midft of prolperity, it dilpofes us tof
complain ; and renders tranquility tirefome, only becaufe it is uni-
form. There is nb wonder that this fpirit of reftleffneis and difla-
tisfa£lion, which corrupts every terreilrial enioyment, fiiould have
fometimes penetrated into the region of virtue. Good men are not
without their frailties; and the perverfenefs incident to human na^
ture, too readily leads u's, who become weary of all other things, ttf
be weary, alio, in weI/-doing.

Let me put a cafe, which, perha^, will be found not unfrequent
in ordinary life. Suppofe a perfon, after much commerce with the'
world, to be convinced of its vanity. He has feen its moft flatter-
ing hopes to be fallacious. He has felt its moft beaded pleafures td
be unfatisfadory. He relolves, therefore, to place his happinels in
Virtue; and, difregardingall temptations from intereft, to adhere to
what is riaht and honourable in conduct He cultivates acquamtance
with religton. He performs, with ferioufnefs, the offices of devotion.
He lays down tohimfelf, a rational and ufeful plan of life ; and, with
fatisfaaion, holds on for a while hi this reformed courfe. But, by
degrees, difcouragements afife. The peace which he hojped to en-
joy, is interrupted, either by his own frailties, or b^ the vices of
Others. Paffions, which had not been thoroughly fubdued, ttruggle
for their accqitonicd gratificapon. The plealurp vvtiich he expeaedt

Sg6 -Cfi the Motives ia

to find in devotion, fornetimes fails him ; and the hijurtice of t?ie
■^vorld often fours and frets him. Friends prove ungrateful ; e-
fiemies mifreprefent, rivals lujjplant him : And part, at leafl, of the

mortiiicatioij-i which he fuifers, he begins to afcribe to virtue. Is

this all the reward of my ferving God, and renouncing the pleafures
of (in? Verily, in vain I have cleanfed tvy heart, and -wajhed my hands
in innocency. Behold, the ungodly pro/per in the "world, and have more
than heart can imJJy ; ■while, all the day long, I ain plagued and chajl-
ened every morning. — To fuch perlbns as thefe, and to all who are
in hazard of being infected 'iVitlv their fpii'it, I now addrefs myfelf.
In reply to their coniplaints, I propofe to fliow. That in no Itate
they can chufe on earch, by no plan of condud they can form, rt
is poilible for them to efcape unealinefs and difappointment ; that in
a life of virtue, they will fuiTer lefs uneafinefs, and fewer difappoint*
fnents, than in a courfe of vice ; they will pofTefs much higher re-
fources and advantages • and they will be alTured of complete re-
Ward at the end. Froai thefe confideracions, I hope to make it ap-
pear, that there is no lufficient realbn for our being weary in "-iVeH-do-
ing; and that, taking human life upon the whole. Virtue is far ths-
in oft eligible portion of man.

I, Uneasiness and difappointment are infeparable, in fome
degree, from every ftite on earth* Were it in the power of the
world, to render thofe who attach themfelves to it, fatisfied and
happy, you might then, I admit, have fome title to complain, if you
found yourfelves placed upon worfe terms in the fervice of God.
But this is fo far from being the cafe, that among the multitudes
v.'ho devote themfelves to earthly pleafure, you svill not find a
fingle perfon who has completely attained his afim. Enquire into
ths condition of the high and the low, of the gay and the ferious,
of the men of bunnefs and the men of pleafure, and you Ihall behold
them all occupied in fupplying fome want, or in removing fome
diftreis. No man is pleafed with being precifely what he is.
Everywhere there is a void ; generally, even in the inofl profperous
life, there is fome corner poflelkd by forrow. He who is engaged
5n bulinefs, pines for leifure. He who enjoys leifure, languifhes for
want of employment. In a fingle ftate, we envy the comforts of a fami-
ly. In conjugal life, we are chagrined with domeftic cares. In a
fafe flation, we regret the want of objeds for enterprife. In an
enterpriiing life, we lament the want of fafety. It is the doom c-f
man, that bis {V;y Jhould never be free from all clouds. He is, .tc

prefent.

Conjlancy in Virtue, 507

frefent, in an exiled and fallen ftate. The objrcls which furround
him, are beneath his native dignity. Cod has tinged them all \\n\i
vanity, on purpofe to make him feel, that this is not his reft; that
here he is not in his proper place, nor arrived at his true home.

If, therefore, you aim at a condition which fliall be exempted
from every difquiet, you purfue a phantom ; you increafe the vanity
and vexation of life, by engaging in a chafe fo fruitlefs. If yo\i
complain of virtue, becaufe there is incident to it a portion of that
unealinefs which is found in every otiier ilate, your complaint is
moft unreafonable. You claim an immunity from evil, which be,
longs not to the lot of man. Reconcile yourlelves, then, to your
condition ; and, inftead of looking for perfect happinefsany where oi)
«arth, gladly embrace that date which contains the feweft forrows. -

II. Though no condition of human life is free from uneafi,
refs, I contend, That the uneafinefs belonging to a fioful courfe, is
far greater than what attends a courfe of well-doinrr. If vou be
weary of the labours of virtue, be afTured, that the woild, whene-
ver you try the exchange, will lay upon you a much heavier load.
It is the outfide, only, of a licentious life, which is gay and fmilino-.
"Within, it conceals toil, and trouble, and deadly forrow. For
vice poifons human happinefs in the fpring, by introducing diforder
5nto the heart. Thofe pailions which it feems to indulge, it only
feeds with imperfecT: gratifications ; and thereby llrcngthensthem fojr
preying, in the end, on their unhappy viclims.

It is a great iniftake to imagine, that the pain of felf-dcnial is
confined to virtue. He who follows the world as niuch as he who
follows Chrift, muft take up his crefs ; and to him, alTuredly, it will
prove a more oppreflive burden. Vice allows all our paflions tq
range uncontrolled ; and where each claiins to be fuperiour, it is im.
pcfllble to gratify all. The jM-edominant defii^e can only be indulged
at theexpence of its rival. No mortifications which \irtue exafts,
are more fevere than thole, which ambition impofes upon tl>e love of
eafe, pride upon intereft, and covetoufnefs upon vanity. Self.denial,
therefore, belongs, in common, to vice and virtue ; but with this re-
markable diflerence, that the paflions which virtue requires us tq
nortify, it tends to weaken ; whereas, thofe which vice obliges us
to deny, it, at the fame time, ftrengthens. The one diminidies the
pain of felf-denial, by moderating the demand afpalTion; the othep
increafes it, by rendering thofe demands imperious and violent.
Wijiat diftrefles, that occur ia the calm life of virtue, can be compafs^

ed

■goS On the Motives ia

cd to thofe tortures, which remoiTe of confcience !nfli(?l:son the widc-
ed ; to thofe fevere humiliations, arifing from guilt combined with
ft)isfortunes, which fink them to the duft ; to thofe violent agitati-
ons of flianie and difappointment, which fometimes drive them to the
moH: fatal extremities, and make them abhor their exiftence? How
often, in the midft of thofe difaftrous fituations, into which their
ci-imes have brought them, have they curfecl the feduclions of vice ♦
and, with bitter regret, looked bacjc to the day on which they firft
forfook the path of innocence!

But, perhaps, you imagine, that to fi^ch miferies as thefe, great
criminals only are expofed ; and that, by a wary and cautious ma-
'nagement, it is polhble to avoid them. Take vice and virtue, theuj,
in the mofi; general point of view. Compare God and the world as
two mailers, the one or other of whom you nmft obey ; and confi-
der fairly, in whofe fcrvice there will be reafon for your being
weary fooneil, and repenting mofl frequently. The world is both
a hard and a capricious rnalter. To fubniit to a long fervitude, in,
the view of a recompence from which they are excluded in the end,
is known to be often the fate of thofe, who are devoted to the
world. They facrilice their prefent eafe to their future profpecis.
They court the great, and flatter the multitude. They prof-
tiiute their confcience, and dilhonour their character : And, after
all their efforts, how lancertain is their fuccefs ! Competitors
juflle, and outlbip theai. The more artful deceive, the more vio-
lent overthrow them. Fair profpefts once fmiled ; but clouds fooa
gather ; the Iky is darkened ; the fcene changes ; and that fickle
world, which, a moment before, had flattered, the next moraen^
lorgets them.

God is never rniftaken in the character of his fervants ; for he
feeth their hearts, and jttdgeth according to the truth. But the world
is often deceived in thofe who court its favour ; and, of courfe, is
unjult in the didribution of its rewards. Flattery gains the ear of
power. Fraud fupplants innocence ; and the pretending and alTum-
ing occupy the place qf the worthy and the modcft. In vain you
claim any merit with the world, on account of your good intentions.
The world knows them not ; regards them not. It judges of jo^a
Iblely by y^our adious ; and, what is worfe, by the fuccefs of your
•actions, which often depends not on yourfelves. But, in the light of
the Supreme Being, good intentions fupply the place of good deeds,
^hichyou had npt the opportunity of performing. The vvcll-meaui^.
. . endeavours

Conjtancy In Vtritie^ 209

jencleavoiirs rvf tbe poor find the fame acceptance with hJm, as the
generous aclions of the rich. The ividoiv^s mite is, in his eye, a
coitly otfering ; and even he who givetb to a difciple a cup of cold WU'
ier, when he can give him no more, goetb not without his reward.

As the world is unjull in its judgments, fo it is ungrateful in its
requitals. Time ipeedily effaces the memory of the greateft fer-
vices ; and when we can repeat them no more, we are negledted,
and thrown afide. It was the faying of a noted great man of tho
world, on the fall of his fortunes, " Had I ferved God as faithfully
f^ as I have done my King, he would not have call m/s off in my old
*'age." Unfaithfulnefs, and ingratitude, are unknown to God.
With him no new favourites arife, to ufurp the place, or to bear off
the rewards, of his ancient fervants. Even to your old age, J am
He ; and even to hoary hairs, 1 will carry you. I have made, and /
will hear; even 1 will carry, and will deliver you, faith the Lord Jlmigh.
iy.* — Since, then, in our ieveral departments, wemuft labour, What
comparifon is there, between labouring for God, and for the world ?
How unjuft are they, who become weary fo much fuoner in the ferviceof
God, than they do in that of the moilfevere and imperious of all mallersl

III. Thk refources of virtue are much greater than thofe of the
%vorld ; the compenfations which it makes for our diftrelfes, far more
valuable. Perpetual fucccfs belongs neither to the one, nor the o-
ther. But under difappointments, when they occur, virtue bears us
Up; the Vi/orld allows us to fink. When the mind of a good man
is hurt by misfortunes, religion adminilters the cordial, and infufes
the balm. Whereas the world inflids wounds, and then leaves them
tofeiler. It brings forrows, but it provides nocoufolation. Confolati-
pn is entirely the province of religion, Sunpoling religion to be iu-
feriour to vice in external advantao-es, it mull be allowed to pofie fs
internal peace in a much higher degree. This is fo certain, that al-
niolt all men, at fome period or other of their life, look forward to
it, as to a delirable retreat. When the ends of their prefent purfuit
fli.iil be accompiilljed, they propofe to ihemlelves much fatisfatlion,
in an honourable difcharge of the duties of their ftation, amidft thofe
moderate pafiions, and temperate pleafures, which innocence allows.
That which all men agree in holding to be fecond in importance to
the purfuit which they follow, may be fafely eileemed to l«c the firft
in real worth ; and it may be concluded, that if they were not blind-
ed by fome prevailing palnon, they would difcern and adopt it a^
fucli,

* Ifa. xlvi. 4, It

210 On the Motives if)

It is tTie peculiar efFed of virtue, to make a man's chief Itsppi-
nefs arife from himfelf and Iiis own conduci;. A bad man is whoIJy
the creature of the world. He hangs upon its favour, lives by its
fmiles, and is happy or miferable, in proportion to his fuccefs. But
CO a virtuous man, i'uccefs in worldly undertakings is but a fecondary
objed. To difcharge his own part with integrity and honour, is
fcis chief aim. If he has done properly what was incumbent on him
to do, h'ls mind is at reft ; to Providence he leaves the event. Hh
ivhnefs is in heaven, and his record is on high. Satisfied with the ap-
probation of God, nnd the teftimony of a good confcience, he en-
joys himfelf, and defpifes the triumphs of guilt. In proportion as
iuch manly principles rule your heart, you will become independent
of the world ; and will forbear complaining of its difcouragements.
it is the imperfeflion o\ your virtue, which occafions you to be weary,
in n>e!/-doing. It is becaufe your hearts remain divided between God
and the world, that you a.'-e fo often difcontented ; partly wifhing to
tJikharge your duty, and partly leeking your happinefs from fome-
•what that is repugnant to your duty. Study to be more confiftent
in principle, and more uniform in praclice, and your peace will bc^
more unbroken.

Though virtue may appear at firft fight to contraft the bounds
of enjoyment, you will find, upon refledion, that, in truth, it en-
larges them. If it reftrains the exce/s of Ibme pleafures, it favours
and increafes others. It precludes you from none, but fuch as arc
either fantaftic and imaginary, or pernicious and dellrudtive. What-
ever is truly valuable in human enjoyment, it allows to a good man^
no leis than to others. It not only allows him fuch pleafures, but
heightens them, by that grateful reiiih which a good confcience gives
to every pleafure. It not only heightens them, but adds to them,
alfo, the peculiar fatisfactions which flow from virtuous fentiments,
from devout afFedions, and religious hopes. On how much worfe
terms is the Gnner placed, in the midfl of his boafted gratifications ?
His portion is confined to this world. His good things are all of one
fort only ; he has neither knowledge, nor relifli, of any thing be-
yond them. His enjoyment, therefore, refls on a much narrower
baCis, than that of the fervants of God. Enlarge, gs much as you
jileafe, the circle of worldly gratifications; yet, if nothing of the
mind and the heart, nothing of a refined and moral nature, enter
into that circle, and vary the enjoyment, languor and wearinefs
foon fucceed. Among whom do yuu hear more peeviih expreffioas

of

CdfiPancy in Virluf, 111

^ difcontfent, or more frequent complaints of low fpirlts, than a-
mongthe profeHed votaries of worldly pleafure?

Vice and virtue, in their progrefs, as in every other refpet^, hold
an oppofue courfe. The beginnings of vice arc enticing. The Hnl
fteps of worldly advancement, are Haltering and plealing. But the
continuance of fuccefs blunts enjoyment, and flattens delire. Wheie-
as the beginnings of virtue are laborious. But,' by ptrfeverance,
its labours diminiilj, and its pleaiures increafe. As it ripens into
confirmed habit, it becomes both fmootber in practice, and more com-
plete in its reward. In a worldly life, the termination of our
hopes always meets our view. We fee a boundary before us, be-
yond which we cannot reach. But the profpeclsof virtue are grow-
ing and endlei's. The righteous Jloall hold on in his way ; and he
ihat hath clean hands, jhall -waxjironger and Jironger. The path of the
juft is as the Jhining Hgljt, that Jhincth more and more unto the perje^
tiay. This brings me to confider,

IV. The afTured hope, which good men enjoy, of a full re-
"ward at lall. I have endeavoured by feveral confiderations, to
correft your iinpatience under the prefent difcouragements of virtue,
I have ihown many high advantages, which it already poffefTes.
But now^ laying all thefe afide j fuppofing virtue to have brought
you no advantage, but to have only engaged you in perpetual ftrng-
gles with an evil world ; the Text fuggelts what is futficient to au-
fwer every objedion, and to filence every complaint ; In due feafon
youfloall reapy ifyoiijaint not. It is not a loofe encouragement, or a du-
bious hope, which is held forth to us. A dirett and explicit declaration is
made by the Spirit of God, that piety and virtue, how difcouragecf
foever, or opprefTed, they.niny be for a while, fiiall not be fruflrat-
ed of their rewarti ; but that in due feafon, when the period which
is fixed by the Divine decree fiiall come, all who have not been vjea-
ry in -well-doing, though they may have foivn in tears, fl?a/l reap in
joy. As this great principle of faith is fo elTential to our prefent ar-
gument, and is indetd the foundation of all religion, it will be pro-
per that we now take a view of the grounds on w^iich i: relfs. Ey
fixing our attention, both on the proofs which reafon fuggefts, anci
on the difcoveries which revelation has made, of a ftateot future re-
tribution, we ihall t.ike an efK:rtual method of confirming our adher-
ence to religion, and of bafHing thofe tenjptations which might lead
tjs to be -wiciry in ■will-doimt

212 -dn the Motives to

The firft, nnd mod obvious pre fitinption, which' reafon afforHs
in behalf of future rewards to the righteous, arifes from the iniper-
fed cliltribution of good and evil in our preient ftate. Nowitiiftand-
mg what I have advanced concerning the plcafures and advantages
of virtue, it cannot be denied, that the happinefs of good men is of-
ten left incomplete. The vicious poflefs advantages, to which they
■have no right ; while the confcientious fuffer for the fake of virtue,
and groan under diftrefTes which they have not nieriied from the
vorld. Indeed, were the diftribution of good and evil in this life,
altogether promifcuous; could it be faid, with truth, that the mo-
fal condition of men had no influence whatever upon their happi-
Defs or mifery ; I admit, that from inch a (late of things, no pre-
fiimption would arife of ai^y future retribution being intended.
They who delight to aggravate the miferies of life, and the diftrell-
es of virtue, do no lervice to the argument in behalf of Providence.
For, if total diforder be found to prevail now, ful'picions may, too
juflly, arife, ot its prevailing for ever. U he who rules the uni-
verfe, entirely neglecls virtue bere, the probability mufl be fmall,
of his rewarding it hereafter. But this is far from being the true
ftate of the faft. What human life prefents to the view of an im-
partial obferver, is by no means a fcene of entire confufion ; but a fbte
of order, begun and carried on a certain length. Virtue is fo far from
being negledted by the Governour of the w orld, that from many evi-
dent marks it appears to be a chief objefl of his care. In the conlli-
tution of human nature, a foundation is laid, for comfort to the righ-
teous, and for internal puiiifhrtyeut to the wicked. Throughouc
the courfe of Divine, government, tendencies towards the happinefs
of the op.e, and the mifery of the other, cnnrtantly appear. I'hey
are fo confpicuous, as not to have efcaped the notice of the rudelt
rations. Over the whole earth, they ha\-e dilFufed the belief, that
Providence is propitious to virtue, and avcrfe to guilt. Yet thefe
tendencies are, fometitncs, difappointed of their effect ; and thac
^vhich Providence vifibly fiivours, is left, at prefent, without an
adequate reward.

From fuch an imperfed (^iftribution of happinefs, what are we td
tonclude, but that this fyilem is tlie begiiinino-, not the whole of
fhings ; the opening only of a n-.ore extenfive plan, whole cnnfum-
mation reaches into a fuiure world ? If God has al ready yt-Z/'fr ihrons
for judgment; if he hrfs vilibly begun to reward and to punilh, in
feme degree oji earthy he cannot mean to leave the cxercife of gy-

VernnienE

Cortflancy in Virtue, 11%

^ernment incomplete. Having laid a foundation of a great and noble
(h-Licturc, he v/ill in clue time rear it up to perfeclion. The unli*
nilhed parts of the fabric evidently fljow, that a future building is
intended. All his other works are conitrudted according to the nioit
full and exa^ proportion. In the natural world, nc-thing is' deficient,
nothing redundant. It is in tlie moral world, only, that we dilco-
ver irregularity and defeat. It falls lliort of that order and perfection
which appear in the reft of the creation. It exhibits not, in its pre-
fent ftaie, the fan:e features of complete wii'doni, jullice, or good-
nefs. But can we believe, that, under the government of the Su-
preme Being, thofc apparent diforders '.Ijall not be reftifitd at the
lad? or, that from his conducl: towards his rational creatures, the chief
of his works, the fole oojeCTtionagainfi his perfcdlou Ihall be allowed
to rife, and Ihall continue unrenioved for ever?

On the Ibppolition of future rewards and punifnnients, a fiuisfying
account can be given, of all the difcrders which at prelent take place
on earth. Chnftianity explains their origin, and traces tlieni to
their ilme. Man, fallen from his priinajval felicity, is now under-
going probation and difcipline for his final ftate. Divine jullice
remains, for a feafon, concealed ; and allows men to aft their parts
with freedom on tiiis theatre, that their char3cT:ers may be formed
and afcertained. Amidll difconragements and afflidions, the riga-
teous give proof of their fidelity, and acquire the Iiabiis of virtue.
But, if you fuppofe the events of this life to have no reterence co-
another, the whole flate of man becomes not only inexplicable, but
contradidory and inconfiPtent. The pov;ers of tlie inferiour animals
are perfectly fuited to their fuuion. They know nothing higher t'lan their
prefent condition. In gratifying their appetites, they fulfil their defhny,
and pafs away. IVjan, alone, codies forth to act a part, which carries
ro meaning, and tends to no end. Endowed with capacities, v.hidi ex.
teiid far beyond his prelent fphere ; fitted by his rational natLire for
running the race of immortality, iie is flopped fhort in the very e; .'trance
of his couri'e. Ke fquandcrs liis activity on purfuits. which he diL* rns
to be vain. Ke languilhes for knowledge, which is placed beyond
his reach. He thirlts after a h.yppinefs, which he is doomed never
to enjoy. He fees and laments the difallcrs of his flate ; and yet,
upon this foppofiUon, can find nothing to remedy th.em. — Mas the
eternal God any pleafure in fporting hinilelf with fuch a fceneof nii-
fery and folly, as this life, if it had no connexion with another,
iiiuli exhibit to iiio eye ? Did lie cill into cxifitn.e tliis magnificent
D d univerfe.

ST4 On the. Motives 1o

nniverfe, adorn it with fo much beauty and fplendour, and furroiindf
it with thofe glorious luminaries which we behold in the heavens,
only thar fome generations of mortal men might anfe to behold thefe
wonders, and then difappenr for ever ? How uiifuitable, in this
cafe, were the habitation to the wretched inhabitant! How incon-
iiilem the commencement of his being, and the mighty preparation
of his powers and faculties, with his delpicable end ! How contra-
d.elory, in fine, were every thing which concerns the ftate of man)'
to the vvifdom and perfcdion of his Maker!

Throughout all ages, and among all nations, the perfuafion of a
future life has prevailed. It fprung not from the refinements of
fciencc, or the fpeculations of phiiolbphy ; but from a deeper and
ftronger root, the natural fentiments of the human heart. Hence
it is common to the philofopher and the favage; and is found in the
moft barbarous, as well as in the mod civilized regions. Even the
belief of the being of a God, is not more general on the earth,
than the belief of immortality. Dark, indeed, and confufed, were
the notions which men entertained concerning a future ftate.
Yet ftill, in that ftate, they looked for retribution, both to the
good and the bad ? and in the perfection of fuch pleafures, as they
knew belt and valued moft highly, they placed the rewards of the
virtuous. So univerfal a confentfeems plainly to indicate an original
determination given to the foul by its Creator. It Ihovvs ibis great
iruth to be native and congenial to man.

When we look into our own breafts, \ve find various anticipati-
ons and prefages of future exigence. Moft of our great and high
pallions extend beyond the limits of this life. The ambitious and
the felf'denied, the great, the good, and the wicked, all take inter-
fiT in what is to happen after they (hall have left the earth. That
pallion for fan^e, which infpires lo much of the activity of mankind,
plainly is animated by the perluafion, that confcioulnefs is to furvive
the tllfTolution of the body. The virtuous are fupported by the
hone, the guilty tormented with the dread, of what is to take
place after ilcath. As death approaches, the hopes of the one, and
the fears of the other, are found to redouble. The foul, when
ifluiu'T hence, fcems more clearly to difcern its future abode. All
the operations of conftience proceed upon the belief of immortality.
The whole moral conduifl: of men refers to it. All legiflators have
vKippofed it. All religior.s are built upon it. It is fo effential to
Vht order of lbi,iety, that were it eri^ftd, human laws would prove

iiieiFedual

Cmjlancy \n Vtriiie. ^,15

kieffcftnal reflralnts from evil, and a deluge of crimes and miferies
would overflow tbs earth. To fiippofe this univerfal and powerful
belief to be without foundation in truth, is to fuppofe, that a priii"
ciple of delufion was interwoven with the nature of man ; is to
fuppofe, that his Creator was reduced to the necelluy of imprefling
his heart with a falfehood, in order to make him anfwer the pur-
pofes of his being.

But though thefe arguments be ftrong, yet all arguments are
liable to objedion. Perhaps this general belief, of wiiich I hove
fpokeu, has been owing to inclination and defire, more than to evi-
dence. Perhaps, in our reafonings on this fubjed: from the Divius
perfedions, we flatter ourfelves with being of more confequencc,
than we truly are, in the fyrtem of the univerfe. Hence the great
importance of a difcovery proceeding from God himlelf, which gives
full authority to all that reafon had fuggefted, and places this capital
truth beyond the reach of fufpicion or difcruft.

The method which Chriftianity has taken, to convey to us the evi.
dence of a future ftate, highly deferves our atteution. Had the Gof-
pel been adJrefled, like a fyflem of philofophy, folely to the under-
ftanding of men ; had it aimed only at enlightening the fl:udious and
refleding, it would have confined itl'elf to abftraft truth ; it would
have limply informed us, that the righteous are hereafter to be re-
warded, and Tinners to be punilhed. Such a declaration as that
contained in the Text, would have been fufficient : Be wA -wea-
ry in well-doing, for in due fcafon ycu fJjall reap, if you jaint not. But
the Gofpel has not ftoppetl, at barely announcing life and immorta-
lity to n)ankind. It was calculated for popular edification. It was
intended to be the religion not merely of the few, whofe underftand-
ing was to be informed ; but of the many, alio, whofe imagination
was to be imprefled, and whofe paffions were to be awakened, in or.
der to give the truth, its due influence over them. Upon this account
it not only reveals the certainty of a fu'ure flate, but, in the peribn
of the great Founder of our religion, exhibits a feries of facls relat-
ing to it ; by means of which, our fenfes, our imagination, and paf-
fions, all become intereflied in this great obje^l.

The refurreclion of Chrift from the grave, was defigned to be a
fenfible evidence, that death infers not a final extinction of the living
pi-inciple. He rofe, in order to (hew, that, in our name, he had con-
quered death, and was become the fir jl- fruits 0/ them that Jlerp. Nor did
he only rife from the grave, but, by afcending to heaven in a vifihle
form, before mar.y witnelTeS; gave an ocular fpecinien of the tr-an-

fiiiua

1i6 Oft the Motives to

fition from this world into tlie region of the blefTed. The employ-
ments wlijch now occupy hirri there, are fully declared. j4s onr fore-
runner, he katk entered vj'tthht the vc'd. He appears in the pre fence of
Cod for us. He niciketh perpetual inierceffon for his people. 1 go, I'aith
he, to my Father and your Father, to my Cod and your Cod. In my
Father^s hfjufi are many matiihits. J go to prepare a place for you. 1
ivU! come again, and receive you to myplf, that where 1 aw, there ye
fjiay he alfo. The circumftances of his coming again, are didinclly
foretold. The founding of the lafl trumpet, the refurreclloii of the
cle:id, the appearance of the Judge, and the folemnity with which
he Ihall difcriininate the good from the bad, are all defcribed. Tiie
vejy words in Vv-hicli he ihall pronounce the final fentence, are recited
in our hearing: Come, ye Ideffed of my Father.' inherit the King-
dom prepared for you from thd foundation of the word'. Tlien fliall
the holy and thejull be catght up in the cloudt, to meet the Lord in the
mr. They Hiall enter with bins into the city of the living Cod. They
iliall pofiefs the nevj earth and new heavens, vjJierein dwelleth i ighteouf-
nefs. Cod fhall wipe away all tears from their eyes. They fijall behold
his- face in right eoufnefs, and be fatlsfed xvith his llkenefs for ever. —
By recording fuch a train of ftriking circumftances and facts, the
Gofpel fiiniliarizes us in fonie meafure with a future ftate. By ac-
GOiUiUodating this great difcovcry, in fo ufeful a manner, to the con-
ceptions of men, it furniihes a ilrong intrinfic evidence of its divine
origin.

Titus, upon the whole, whctlier ynu confult your reafon, or lif-
ten to the dilcoveries of revelation, you behold our argument con-
firoicd; you behold a life of piety and virtue ilRiing in iaunortal fe-
licity. Of what worldly pnribit can it be pronounced, that its re-
ward is certain? Look every where around you, and you (liall fee,
that the race IS fn- U-omhe\vi'y always to the f\vl ft, or the battle to the
jlrong. The moil diligent, the nioft \\i!e, the mofl accomplKhed,
may, after ali their labours, be dilappointcd in the end; and be left
to fufTcM- tlie regret, of having //).- nl their flrengtb for nought. But for
tlie righreons is bid up the croxvn of life. Their final happiiiefs is [.re-
pared in the etcr/ual plan of Providence, and fccured by the labours
and (utfei-ings of the Saviour of the world.

Ceafe tlien, from your unjiul complaints againft virtue and religion.
Le;i\'e difcontent, and pceviihnefs, to worldly men. In no pcri<^J
of diftrefs, in no iroment of difappointment, allow yourfelves to fuf-
lecl; that pi^-y and integrity are iruiilefs. In evtiy (late of beingj^

they

Conjinncy in Vtrtut.^ 71 y

they lend to happinefs. If you enjoy not at prefcnt tlierr full re •
wards, it is becaufe the feafon ot recompenfe is not yet come. For,
in due feafon you Jh all reap. There is a time which is proper for re-
ward ; and there is a j^eriod which belongs to trial. How long the
one fliould laft, and when the ether iliould arrive, belongs not to
vou to determine. It is fixed by the wife, though unknown decree
of the Almighty. But, be affured, that He that cometh, J7:a/l come,
auil '•Mill noi tcirry. He fhall come in due feafon^ to reftore perfect or-
der among his works ; to bring reft to the weary, comfort to the af-
fiifted, and juft retribution to all men. Behold, faith the faithful and
true Witnefs, I come quickly, and my rexvard is vjithjyie. To him that
oi'ercomeih, will 1 give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midjl
of the pai-adife of Cod.. I -will give him the morning Jlar. 1 "will make
him a pillar in my temple. He foall be clothed in "white raiment ; and
fl) all Jit down with me, on my throne.^

^ Rev. xxii. 12. — ii. 7. 2S. — iii. 12. $- 2t,

S E R M 0 ]>3

{ i<8 )

SERMON XVI,

On the Importance of Order in Conduct,

I Corinth, xiv. 40.
Let all things he dme — in order,

RELIGION, like every regular and well-conneclied fyftem, is
compoled of a variety of parts ; each of which poirefles its
feparate importance, and contributes to the perfection of the whole.
Some graces are elTcntial to it ; fuch as faith and repentance, the love
of God, and the love of our neighbour ; which, for that reafon, muft
be often inculcated on men. There are other difpofitions and habits,
which, though they hold not ^o high a rank, yet are neceffiry to
the introdudlion and fupport of the former; and therefore, in reli-
gious exhortations, thel-j alfo juftly claim a place. Of this nature is
that regard to order, method, and regularity, which the npoftle
enjoins us in the text to carry through the whole of life. Whether
you confider it as, initfelf, a moral duty, or not, yet I hope foon to
convince you that it is efTential to the proper diicharge of alinoft all
duties, and merits, upon that account, a greater degree of attention
than is commonly paid to it in a religious view.

If you look abroad into the world, you may be faiisfied at the firft
glance, that a \'icious and libertine life is always a life of confniion.
Thence it is natural to infer, that order is friendly to religion. As
the negled of it coincides with vice, fo the prefervation of it mnft
sflift virtue. By the appointment of Providence, it is indifpenfably
requiiite to worldly piofperity. Thence arifes a prefuniption, that
it is conneded alfo with fpiritual improvement. When you behold
a man's aliairs, through negligence and mifconducT:, involved in dif-
order, you naturally conclude that his ruin approaches. You niay
at the fame time juflly fufped, that the caufes whiih nfFed his tempo,
ral welfare, operate alfo to the prejudice of iiis moral interefts.
TIic apcaie teaches us in thischaptcr, that ddu nzi the auihor of con^

fiijioti,*

On the Importance, ibc, 2ie>

fttfofi.'* He Is a lover of order : and all his works are full of order.

But where confujkn is, there is, its dole attendant, every tvi/ ivork.f
In the fequel of this difcoiirl'e I lliall point out fome of thole parts
of conduct wheixin it is moll material to virtue that order take place j
and then fhall conclude with Ihewing the high advantages which at-
tend it. Allow me to recommend to you order in the conduct of your
affairs; order in the diftribution of your time ; order in the manage-
ment of your fortune ; order in the regulation of your amufements ;
order in the arrangement of your fociety. Thus let all things bs
Jone in order.

I. Maintain order in the condu^l of your worldly affairs. E-
Tery man, in every (lation of life, has fosne concerns, private, do-
auedic, or public, which require fucctfllve attention ; he is placed in
fome fphere of adive duty. Lee the eiiiployments which belong to
thatiphere be fo arranged, that each may keep its place without juft-
ling another ; and that which regards the world may not interfere
with what is due to God. In proportion to the multiplicity of affairs,
the obfervance of order becomes more indifpenfable. But fcarccly
is there any train of life fo fimple and uniform but what will fuii'er
through the neglecfl of it. I fpeak not now of futfering in point of
worldly intereft. I call upon you to attend to higher interefts ; to
remember that the orderly condufl of your temporal affairs forms a
great pare of your duty as Chriftians.

Many, indeed, can hardly be perfuaded of this truth. A
flrong propenfity ha^-, in every age, appeared among men, to fe-
queftrate religion from the commerce of the world. Seafons of re-
treat and devotion they are willing to appropriate to God. But the
world they confuler as their own province. They carry on a fort of
feparate interelt there. Nay,*by the refpcdl which, on particular
occafions, they pay to religion, they too often imagine that they have
acquired the liberty of afting in worldly matters, according to what
plan theycluife. How entirely do luch perfons miftake the defign of
Chriflianity ! — In this world you were placed by Providence as on .a
great field of trial. By the neceffuies of your rature you are called
iOvih to dilferent employments. By many ties you are connected
V ith human Ibciety. From fupcriours and infcriours, from neigh,
hours and equals, from friends and enemies,, denj.mds arife, and ob-
ligations circulate through all' the ranks of life. This aftive fcene
v.«s contrived by the wildoiu of Heaven, on purpole that it might

* ^tT. 33. f Jiitnes iii. id.

bring

'2-2& On the Importance of

bring into exercife all the virtues of the Chrillian character ; youl'
jiiftice, candour and veracity, in dealing with one another ; your fi-
delity to every trufl, and your confcientious difcharge of every office,
v^hich is committed to you ; your a(lV(5lion for your friends; your
forgivenefs of enemies; your charity to the diftrefied ; your attentioi-j
to the ioterefts of your fainily. It is by fulfilling ail thefe obliga-
-tions, in proper fucceiTion, that you fhew your corroerfation to be fuch
as becometh the gofpcl of ChnJI. It is thus you make your light fo to fhine
'hefore vien, that they may fee your good works, and glorify your Father
ivhich is in henven. It is thus you are rendered meet for the inheritance
of the faints in I'ght. — But how can ihofe various duties be difcharged
by perfons v/ho are ever in ttiat hurry and perplexity which diibrder
creates ? You wiih, perhaps, to perfcn-ni what your charafter and
itation require. But from the confufion in which you have allowed
yourlclves to be involved, ynu find it to have become impolTible.
"What was ncgle^fted to be done in its proper place, thrulls itfelf
forward at an inconvenient feafon, A multitude of affairs crowd
upon you together. Different obligations diftraft you : and this dif-
tradion is ioinetimesthe caufe, fonietimes the pretence, of equally ne-
gle6lingthem all, or, at leaft, of facrificing the greater to the lelTer.
Hence arife fo many inconfident characters, and fuch frequent in-
ftances of partial and divided goodnefs, as we iind in the vi-orld ; ap-
pearances of generofity without juilicc, honour without truth, pro-
bity to men without reverence of C'od. He who conduits his affairs
with method and regularity, meets every duly in its proper place,
and afijgns it its due rank. But where there is no order in conduct,
there can be no uniformity in charafter. I'he natural connection and
arrangement of duties are loft. If virtue appear at all, it will be
only in fits and itarts. The authority of confcience may occafion-
ally operate, when our fituation affords it room for exertion. But in
other circumflances of equal importance, every moral fentiment will
be overpowered by the tumultuous builie of worldly affairs. Fret-
fulnefs of temper, too, will generally ciiaratterize thofe who are ne-
gligent of order. The hurry in v. liich they live, and the embar-
raffinents with v^hich they are funoniidt'd, keep their fpirits in perpe-
tual ferment. Conflicting with diffuiilties which they are unable to
overcome, confcicus of their own miilonduct, but alhamed to con-
fefs it, they are engaged in many a fccrct ftrugnlc ; and the uneafi-
nefs which they fuffer within, recoils in bad Iiuiiunir on all who are
around them. Hence the wretched rcfuuii'es tcwhich^ at laft, they

are

Order in Condu^l, 22 1

afe obliged to fly, in order to quiet thtir cares. In defpair of being
able to unravel what they have fuffered to become fo perplexed, they
fometimes fink into fupine indolence, fometimes throw theoilelves
into the arms of intemperance and loofe pleafure ^ by either of which,
they aggravate their guih, and accellerate their ruin. To the end
that order may be maintained in your affairs, it is nectirary,

II. That you attend to order in the diilribuuon ol your tirr.e.
Time you ought to C9nrider as a f?.cred truft committed to you by
God, of which you are now the depofiiarles, and are to render ac-
count at the la(t. That portion of it whicli he has allotted you is
intended partly for the concerns of this v/orld, partly for thofe of the
next. Let each of thefe occupy, in the diftribution of your time,
that fpace which properly belongs to it. Let not the hours ot hpf-
pitality and plcafure interfeie with the difcharge of your neceiTary af-
fairs ; and let not what you call neceirary affairs encroach upon the
time which is due to devotion. To every thing there is a feafon, and
a time for every pur poje under the heaven *. If you delay till to-morrow
what ought to be done to day, you over-charge the morrow with a
burden which belongs not to it. You load the whee:)s of time, and
prevent it from carrying you along fmoothly. He who every morn-
ing plans the tranfa£lionsof the day, and follows out that plan, car-
ries on a thread which will guide him through the labyrinth of the
moft bufy life. The orderly arrangement of his time is like a ray of
light which darts itfelf through all his affairs. But where no plan is
laid, where the difpofal of time is furrendered merely to the chance of
incidents, all things lie liuddled together in one chaos, which ad-
mits r.either of diflribution norreview.

The firft requifite for introducing order into the management of
time, is to be impreiTed with a juft fenfe of its value. Confider well
how much depends upon it, and how fad it tiies away. The bulk
of men are in nothing more capiicious and inconfirtent than in their
appretiation of time, Vv'-hcn they think of it a-s the meafure of their
continuance on earth, they highly prize it, and with the greateft anx-
iety feek to lengthen it out. But when they view it in feparate
parcels, they appear to hold it in contempt, andfquander it with in-
confiderate profufion. While they complain that life is (horr, they
arc often wifhing its different periods at an end. Covetous of every
other poifeffion, of time only they are prodigal. They allow every
idle man to be mafler of this property, and make every frivolous oc-

E e cupa'.ioa

* EfcJeJ iii. I.

222 On t-he Importance of-

eupation welcome that can help them to confume It. Among thofe.
who are fo carelels of time, it is not to be expefled that order fhouldr
be obferved in its diftributicn. But, by this fatal negleft, how many
materials of ffevere and lading regret are they laying up in (lore for
themfeives ! The time which they fufFer to pafs away in the midR; of
confufron, bitter repentance fecks afterwards in vain to recal. What was
omitted to be done at its proper moment, arifes to be the torment of
fome future /eafon. Manhood' is difgraced by the confequences of
neglected youth. OUi ?.ge, oppreiTed by cares that belonged to a for-
mer period, labours under a burden nor irs own. At the cloie of
Mf<^, thd dying man b.htjlJs with anguiOi that his days are finifhing,
^hen his preparation for eternity is hardly commenced. Such zx^
the effeds of a difcrderly waliC of time, through not attending to its
value. Every thii-.g in the life of fuch perfons is mlfplaced. Nothing
k perfor.Tied aright, from not being perf'>rme(l in <\nQ feafon.

But he who is orderly in the diltrihution of his- rime, talies thepro>^
per method of cfcaping thofe manifold evils. Me is judly faid ta
redeem the time. By pr^-per managetnent he prolongs it. He lives
much in little fpace ; more in a few years than others do in many.
He can live to God and his own foul, and at the fame time attend t©-
all the lawful interei^s of the prefent world. He looks back on the
pad, and provides lor the future. He catches and a-refts the hours
as they fly. They are marked down for ufefid purpofes, and their
memory remains. Whereas thofe hoiirs fleet by the man of confufi-
on like a fhadow. His days and years are either blanks of which he
has no remembrance, or they are filled up with'fuch a ronfufed and
irregular fuccelTion of tinfinilhed tranfadlions, that though he remem-
Bers he has been bufy, yet he can give no account of the bufmefs
which has employed him. Of him, more than of anv other, it may
with judice be pronounced, that he wulketh in a vain Jbew : he is dif-
quieted in vain,

HI. Intrc^iduce order into the ir.anagerr.ent of your fortune.
Whatever it be, let the adminiff ration of it proceed with method
and oeconomy. From time to time examine your fltuation ; and
proportion your ex pence to your growing or diminifhing revenue.
Provide what is necefiary, before, you indulge in what is fuperfiuous.
Study to do jufiic-'e to all with whotn yoii deal, before you afFe«Sl the
praife-of liberality. In a word, fix fuch a plan of living as you find,
that your circumfta<nces will fairly admit, and adhere to it invarixbl/-
againfl every temptation to improper excefs. -

No admonition refpeding morals is mojc rjecefTary than this to thp

ace

Order in Co ndu c? . 22^

.«ge in which we hve; an age manifeilly diRrngiiifhed by a pmpenfuy
%Q thoughtlefs protulion ; wherein all the ditfcrent ranks of men arc
robferved to preis with forward vanity on tlioic wlio are abv.vc them ;
to vie witli tlicir fuperioius in eveiy mode of lu.xurv and clicntaliori ;
and to feel^ no fartlier argnment for juliifying extravagance, than the
■fafhion of the times, and the tuppofed neceiilty of hving like others
ground tiiem. This turn oi mind begets contempt lor luber and or-
derly plans of life, it overthrows ad regaid^odomeftic concerns apd
duties. It pulhes men on to hazardous and viHonaiy fchemes cf cain ;
and unfortunately unites the two extremes, of grafping with rapacionf-
jnefs, and of Iguandering with profulion. In tJie mitlit of fuch diCl.
order, no profperity can be of long continuance. While confufion
grows upon men's afiairs, and prodigality at the fame time v.aftes
their fubltance, poverty makes its advances tike an armed man. They
•tremble at the view of the approaching evil ; but have lofl the force
oi mind to makeprovifionagainli it. Accnilomed to move in a round
of fociety and pleafures difproportioned to their condition, they a^^
unable to break through the enchantments of habit ; and with their
eyes open fink into t^je gulph which is. before them. Poverty enforces
dependance ; and dependance increales corruption- Neceflity firft
betrays them into mean compliances ; next, impck them to opea
crimes \ and begiiming with oftentation and extravagance, they end
in infamy and guilt. Such are the confequences of neg'edting ordec
in our worldly circumltances. Such is the circle in which the pro*

fufe and the dillblute daily run. To what caufe, fo much as to

the want oi order, can we attribute thole icenes of diflrefs which fo
frequently excite oiu- pity \ families that once were ilourifning reduc-
ed to ruin ; and the iriclanciioly widow and negledled orphan throwo
forth, fritndlefs, upon the world ? What caufe has been more fruitful
in engendering tnole atrocious crimes which fdi fociety with difquiet
pnd terrour ; in training the gamefler to fraud, the robber to violence,
and even the afTafun to blood ?

Be allured, then, that order, frugality, and accnomy, are the
necelfary fupports of every perfonal and private virtue. How humble
foe ver thefe qualities may appear to foine, they are, nevertheLTs, the
bafis on which liberty, independence, and true honour, mnft rife
He who has the fleadinefs to arrange his affairs with method and
regularity, and to conduct his train of liie agreeably to his circum-
f\ance?, can be mafler of himfelf in every fiiuation into w hich he may'
be thrown. He is unJer no neceOity to flatter or to lie, to ft lop to
what is mean, oi to commit what is criminal. But he who wants

that

224 On the Importance ^f

that fTrmnefs of mind which the obfervance of order requires, is hirld
in bondage to the world ; he can neither act his part with courage as
a man, nor with fidelity as a Chriftian. From the moment you have
allowed yourlelves to pais the line of ceconomy, and to live beyond
your fortune, you have entered on the path of danger. Precipices
iurround you on all lides. Every ftep which you take may lead to
raifchicfs, that, as yet, lie hidden \ and to crimes that will end in
your everlallmg perdition.

IV. Observe order in your amufements ; that is, allovi- th-rmno
more than their proper place ; ftudy to keep them within due bounds ;
roingle them in a temperate fuccelTTon with ferions duties, and the
higher bufmefs of life. Human life cannot proceed to advantage .
without fome meafure of relaxation and entertainment. We require
relief from care. We are not lormed for a perpetual ftrelch of ferious
thought. By too intenfe aid continued application, our feeble pow-
ers would foon be worn out. At the fame time, from our propenfity
toeafe and pleafure, amufement proves, among all ranks of men,
the moft dangerous foe to order. For it tends inceifantly to ufnrp
and encroach, to widen its territories, to thruft itfetf into the place
of more important concerns, and thereby to diOurb and counteract
the natural courfe of things. One frivolous amufement indulged out
of feafon, will often carry perplexity and coniufion through a long
fuccelfion of affairs.

Amufements, therefore, though they be of an innocent kind, re-
quire iieady government, to keep them within a due and limited pro-
vince. But fuch as are of an irregular and vicious nature, are not to be
governed, but to be banilhed from every orderly fociety. As foon aS
a man feeks his happinefs from the gaming-table, the midnight revel,
and the other haunts o( licentioufnefs, coniufion feizcs upon him as its
own. There will no longer be order in his family, nor order in his
affairs, nor order in his time. The mod important concerns of lite
arc abandoned. Even the order of nature is by fuch perfons inverted;
Dight is changed into day, and day into night. Charafter, honour,
and intereft itftlf, are trampled und-cr foot. You may with certain-
ty prognoflicate the ruin of theie men to be jull at hand. Diforder,
arifen to its height, has nearly accomplifhed its work. The fpots of
death are upon them. Let every one who would efcape ifie pcuiltn-
tial contagion fly with hade from their company-

Order in ConduSi. 225

V. Preserve order in the arrangement of your fociety ; that is,
entangle not yourfelves in a perj^ietual and promifcnous crowd ; fe-
led with prudence and propriety thofe with whom you chufe to af-
fociate ; let company and retreat Tucceed each other at meafured in-
tervals. There can be no order in his life who allocs not a due (hare
of his time to retirement and refleilion. He can neither prudently
arrange his temporal affairs, nor properly attend to his fpiriiual inte-
refts. He lives not to himfelf, but to the world. By continual dif-
fipation, he is rendered giddy and thoughtlcfs. He unavoidably con-
tracSts from the world that fpirit of diforder and confufion which is fo
prevalent in it.

It is not a fufficient prefervative againft this evil, that the circles
of fuciety in which you are engaged are not ot a libertine and vi-
cious kind. If they withdraw you from that attention to yoiirltlves,
and your domeftic concerns, which becomes a good man, they are
fubverfivc cf order, and inconfiltent with duty. What is innocent in
itfelf, degenerates into guilt from being carried to excefs*^ and idle,
trifling fociety is near a-kin to fuch as is corrupting : One of the firft
principles ot order is, to learn to be happy at home. It is in domef- •
tic retreat that every wife and virtuous man finds his chief fatisiadtion. :
It is there he forms the plans which regulate his public conduit.
He who knows not how to enjoy himfell when alone, can never be
Icng happy abroad. To his vacant mind, company may afford a •
temporary relief ^ but when forced to return to himfelf, he will be
fo much more opprclTcd and languid. Whereas, by a due mixture
cf public and private life, we keep Iree from the fnares oi both, an(h
enjoy each to greater advantage.

When we review thofe dilTerent parts of behaviour to which I
have Ihewn that order is eifential, it muft necelTariiy occur to you,
that they are all mutually connt<Sted, and hang upon each other.
Throughout your affair?, your time, your expence, vour amufements, .
your fociety, the principle uf order muft be equally carried, it you cx-
pe£l to reap any of its happy fruits. For if into any one of thofe
great departments of life you fuffer diforder to enter, it will fpread
through all the rell. In vain, for indance, yen purpofe to be order-
ly in the condu£l of your alTairs, if you be irregular in the diftribu-
tion of your time. In vain you attempt to regulate your expence,^
if into your amufements, or your fociety, diforder has crept. Yoh
have admitted a principle of confufion which will defeat all your plans;
and perplex and entangle v/hat you fought to arrange. Uniformity is

iibove

2-26 On the Importance of

above all things necelTary to order. If you dcfire that any thing flnuM
procaed according to method and rule, Jet cU things, as the text ex-
horts, be done in order.

I mult alfo admonifli you, that in ftnall, as well as in great afFairp,
a due regard to order is requifite. I ijiean not that you ought to look
on thofe minute attentions which arc apt to occupy frivolous mindsj
as coijne(9.ed either vvitili virtue or wifi-lom. Bsit \ exhort you to re-.
member, that diforder, like other immoralities, frequently takes rifa
from JHConlidcrable beginnings. They who, in the lelTer tranfailions
of lile, are totally neglig nt of rule, will be in hazard of extending
that negiigence, by degrees, to fuch affairs and duties as will render
jhem criminal. RemilFntis grows on all who Uudy not to guard a-
gainrt it ; and it is onlf by frequent exercife that the habits of order
and punduality can be thoroughly confirmed.

From what has been faid, the great importance of this principle
to moral and religious contiuil muft already be evident. Let us^,
however, conclude, with taking a fummary view of the advantages
which attend it.

Firft, the obfervance of order ferves to corre£i that negligence
which makes you omit Ibme duties, and that hurry and precipitancy
which makes you perform -others imperfedly. Your attention is
thereby direded to its proper objeds. You follow the ftraight path
yvhich Providence has pointed out to man ; in the courfe of v.hich
all the dilferent bullnefs of life prefents iifelf regularly to him on eve-
ry Tide. God and m.an, time and eternity, poii'efs their proper ftati-
ons, arife in Ihcceflion to his view, and attract his care. Wheieas
he who runs on in a dilorderly courfe, fpeedily involves himfelf in a
labyrinth, where he is furrounded with intricacy and darknefs. The
crooked paths into which he (trikes, turn him afide from the proper
line of human purfuit; hide froin his fight the objeds which he ought
chiefly to regard, and bring others under his view, which ferveno pur-
pofe but to didra^t and millead him.

Next, by attending to order, you avoid idlenefs, that mofl fruitful
fource of crimes and evils, ^ding upon a plan, meetmg every thing
in its own place, you Conftantly find innocent and ufeful employment
lor lime. You are never at a lofs how to difpolc of your hours, or
to hll up lite agreeably. In the courfe of human adinn, there are
two extremes equally dangerous to virtue ; the multiplicity of affairs,
and the total want of them. The man of ortier {lands in the middl*
between thcfe two eyareir.es, and fuffers from neither. He is occupi-
ed

Order in ConduSi, 72'f

ed but ROt opprelTeJ. Whereas the d (orderly, oveiloailtng one part
of time, and leaving another vacant, are at one period overwhelmed
with bufincfs, and at another, cither idle through want of employ-
ment, or indolent through perplexity. Thofe feafoas of indolence and
idlenefs, which recur fo olttn in their lite, are their muft dangerous
moments. The mind, unhappy in its fimaiion, and clinging to eve-
ry objedi which can occupy or amufe it, is then aptelt to tljrow it-
felf into the arms of every vice and every folly.

Farther, by the prefervation of order, you check tnconflancy and
kvity. Fickle by nature is the human heart. It is fond of change ;
and perpetually tends to (tart slide from the Uiaiglit line of conduiSl.
Hence arifes ihe propriety of bringing ouifelves under fubjtdlion to
method and rule j which, though at firft it may prove conftraining,
yet by degrees, and from the experience of its happy effe^ls, becomes
natural and agreeable. |t re£lifies thofe irregularities of temper and
manners to which we give the name of cr.price ; and v/hich are dU-
tinguiiliing charadlerihics of a diforderly mind. It is the parent
oi fti-adinels of condu£l. It forms conhftency of charafter. It is
the ground of all the confidence we repofe in one another. For, th«^
diforderly we know not where to find. In him only can we place
any trult who is uniform and legular ; who lives by principle, not by
humour i who a6ls upon a plan, and not by defultory motions.

The advantages of order hitherto mentioned belong to rectitude of
condufl. Conluler aUo how important it is to your felf-enjoynient
and felicity. Order is the fource o^f peace ; and peace is the higheft
of all temporal blenings. Ojder is indeed the only region in which
tranquillity dwells. The very mention of confullon imports difiur-
bance and vexation. Is it poliible for that man to be happy, who
cannot look into the ftate of his affairs, or the tenor of his condudl,
\vithout difcerning all to be eiribroilcd ; who is either in tlie midfl of
remorfe for what he has neglc6ied to do, or in the midfl of hui ry to
overtake what he finds, too late, was neccllary to have been done ?
Such as live according to order may be compared to the celeflial bo-
dies which move in regular courfes, and by ftated laws ; whofe
influence is beneficent; whofe operations are quiet and tranquil. The
diforderly refemble thofe tumultuous elements on earth, which, by
fudden and violent irruptions, didurb the ccurfe of nature. By
mirn:}anagementof affairs, by excefs in expence, by irregularity in the
indulgence of company and amulement, they are perpetually creating
m,oleIlation both to themfelves and others. They depart from their
joad to feek pleafure ^ and inltead of it, they every wkereraife up for-

rous,

228 On the Importance of, ifc.

rows. Being always found out of their prop&r place, they of cclirfe"
interfere and jar with others. The diforders which they raife never
fail to fpread beyond their own line, and to involve m^ny in confurion
and dirtrefs ; whence they necelFarily become the authors of tumult
and contention, ofdifcord and enmity. Whereas order is the foun-
dation of union. It allows every man to carry on his own affairs
without difturbing his neighbour. It is the golden chain, which
holds together the focieties of men in friendfhip and pe^ce.

In fine, the man of order is connected with all the higher pow-
ers and principles in the univerfe. He is the follower of God. He
•walks with him, and a6ls upon his plan. His character is formed
on the fpirit which religion breaths. For religion in general, and
the religion of Chrift in particular, may be called the great difcipline
of order. To zvalh Jinfully, and to "jualk dif orderly y are fynonyrnous
terms in Scripture. From Juch as walk dijorderly we are commanded,
in the name of the Lord Jefus Chr'f}^ to tviihdraw ourf elves*. The
kingdom of Satan is the reign of diforder and darknefs. To reftore or-
der among the works of God, was the end for which the Son of God
defcended to the earth. He requires order to beobferved in his church.
His undertaking is to be confummated in that perfect order which he
ftall introduce at the laft day. In the nnu earth and the nezu heavens, un-
difturbed order fhall for ever prevail among the fptrits of thejuji made
perfect : and whatever farther preparation may be requifitefor our be-
ing admitted to join their focicty, it is certain that we fliall never fliare
in it, unlefs we make it now our Itudy to do all things decently, and
in order.

* 2 Thejj: iii. 6.

SERMON

( 229 )

S E R M ON XVIL

On the Government of the H e a r t.

Proverbs, Iv. 23.

Keep thy hMrt with all diligence : for out of it are tl^e iffues of life,

M ON G the many wife counfels given by this infpired writer,
there is none which deferves greater regard than that contained
in the text. Its importance, /lowever, is too feldom perceived by
the generahty of men. They are apt to confider the regulation of
external conduct as the chief obje6l of religion. If they can a£l their
part with decency, and maintain a fair character, the,y conceive their
duty to be fulfilled. What pafles in the mean time within their mind,
they fuppole to be of no great confequence, either to themfelves, or
to the world. In oppofition to this dangerous plan of morality, the
wife man exhorts us to keep the heart ; that is, to attend not onlv to
our actions, but to our thoughts and defires; and /o keep the heart
with all diligence, that is, with fedulous and unremitting care ; for
which he afligns this reafon, that, out of the heart are the iffues of
life. — In difcourfing on this fubje£l I purpofe to conilder, feparately,
the government of the thoughts, of the paflions, and of the tem-
per. But before entering on any of thefe, let us begin with en-
quiring, in Avhat fenie the iffues of life are faid to be out of the heart ;
that we may difcern the force of the argument which the text fug-
gefts, to recommend this great duty of keeping the heart.

The iffues of life are juflly faid to be out of the heart, becaufe the
{fate of the heart is what determines our moral charader, an4 what
forms our chief happinefs or mifery.

Firff, It is the ffate of the heart which determines our moral cha-
rafler. The tenor of our actions will always correfpond to thedif-
pofitions that prevail within. To diffemble, or to fiipprcfs them,
is a fruitlefs attempt. In fpite of our efrorts, they will perpetually
break forth in our behaviour. On whatever fide the weight oi in-
clination hangs, it will draw the pradice after it. In vain therefore
you ffudy to preferve your hands clean, unlefs you refolve at the fame
■ F f '^ tin>c

230 On the Government

time to keep your heart pure. Make the tree goo/J, as owr Saviour di-
re<5ls, and then its fruits will be good alfo. For out of the hfart proceed
not only evil thoughts, but murders, adulteries, fornications, theft, falfe
witnefs, blafphem-es*. It that fountain be once poifoned, you can
never expert that falubrious ftreams will flow from it. Throughout
the whole of their courfe, they will carry the taint of the parent
fpring.

But it is not merely from its influence on external a61ion thatthe
irfiportance of the heart to our moral charadler ariles. Independent
of all aclion, it is, intruth, the ftate of the heart itfelt which forms
our charader in the fight of God. With our fellow-creatures, ac-
tions muft ever hold the chief rank ; becaufe, by theie only we car?
judge of one another ; by thefe we effect each other's welfare \ and
therefore to thefe alone the regulation of human law extends. Bt>t
in che eye of that Supreme Being, to whom our whole internal frame
is '.incovered, difpoiitions hold the place of aiiions ; and it is not fo
iriuch v^hat we perform, as the motive which moves us to perfor-
mance, that conllitutes us good or evil in his fight. Even among
men, the morality of a£lions is eftimated by the principle from which
they are judged to proceed ; and fuch as the principle is, luch is the
man accounted to be. One, for inftance, may Ipcnd much of his
fortune in charitable a£lions ; and yet, if he is believed to be influenc-
ed by mere oftentation, he is deemed not charitable, but vain. He
may labour unweariedly to ferve the public ; but if he is prompted
by the defire of rifing into power, he is held not public fpirited, but
ambitious : And if he beftows a benefit, purely that he may receive
a greater in return, nf^) man would reckon him generous, but (elfiih
and interefted. If reafon thus clearly teaches us to eftimaie the value
of adions by the difpofitions which give them birth, it is an obvi-
ous conclufion, that, according to thofe difpofitions, we are all rank-
ed and clafled by him who feeth into every heart. The rectification
of our principles ot aftion is the primary obje6tof religious difcipline ;
and, in proportion as this is more or lefs advanced, we are more or lefs
!ireligious. Accordingly the regeneration of the heart is every where
leprefented in the Gofpel as the mofl: eiTential requifite in the charac-
ter of a Ghriftian.

3econx)?.y, Theflateof the heart not only determines our rr,nral

charader, but forms our principal happinefs or mifery. External fi-

tuations of fortune are no farther of confequence, than as they operate

t)M the heart; and their operation there is far from correfponding to

* Mutlb. XV. 18. the

of the Heart, 2 '2 1

the degree of worldly profptrity or adverfity. If, from any internal
caiife, a man's peace of mind be difturbed, in vain you load him with
all the honours or riches which the world can beltow. They remain
without, like things at a dillance from him. They reach not the
fource of cnjoytTient. Difcompofed thoughts, agitated paflions, and a
rufflfcd temper, poifon every ingredient ot pleafnre which the world
holds out ; and overcaft every object which prefents itfelf, with a
melanclioly gloom. In order to acquire a capacity of happinefs, it
mutt be our firft iliuiy to rectify fuch inward diforders. Whatever
difcipline tends to accompli(h this purpofe, is of greater importance
to man, than the acquifition ot the advantages of fortune. Thefe are
precarious and doubtful in their efFeil ; iniernal tranquillity is a certairl
good. Thefe are only means ; but that is the end. Thefe are no mote
tha;n inllruments of fatista^lion ; that, is fatisfa6tion itfelf.

Judiy is it faid by the Wife Man, that hezvho hath no rule over his
Jpirit, is Uki a city that is broken down and without walls*. All is wafte ;
all is in diforder and ruins within him. He poffefiTes no defence againft"
dangers of any fort. He lies open to every infurre6tion of ill-huiricur,
and every iuvafion of diflrefs. Whereas he who is employed in re-
gulating his mind, is making provifion againft all the accidents of life-
He is ere6ting a fortrefs into which, in the day of danger, he can
retreat with fafety. And hence, amidft thofe endeavours to feoure
happinefs which inceflantly employ the life of man, the careful regu-
lation, or the improvident neglefl of the inward frame, forms thfe chief
diftin£lion betv/een witdom and folly.

Thus it appears with how much propriety the ifpies of life are
faid to be out of the heart. Here rife thofe great fprings of human
conducSt whence the main currents flow of our virtue, or our vice ; of
our happinefs, or our mifery. Befidcs this powerful argument for
keeping the heart with all diligence, I muft mention another important
confideratlon taken from the prefent Rate of human nature. Think
what your heart now is, and what muft be the confequence of re-
mitting your vigilance in watching over it. With too m\ich juftice it
is faid in fcripture, to be deceitful above all things, and defprrafely zcick-
ed. Its bias of mnate corruption gives it a perpetual tendency down-
wards into vice and diforder. To direa and impel it upwards, re-
quires a conftant eflTort. Experience may convince you, that almoft
every defire has a prcpenfity to wander into an improper dire£tion ;
that every paffion tends to excefs ; and that around your imagination
there pernetualiy crowds a whole fwarm of vain and corrtiptmg
* t'rov, XXV. 2«. thoughts.

232 On the Goverrnnerti

thoughts. After all the care that can be beftowed by the beft men
on the regulation of the heart, it frequently bafRes their efforts to keep
it under proper difcipline. Into what univerfal tumult then muft it
rife, il*no vigilance be employed, and no government be exercifed over
it ? Inattention and remiflhefs is all that the great adverfary of man-
kind defires, in ortler to gain full advantage. While you Jleep, he Jews
his tares in the field. The houfe which he finds vacant and unguard-
ed, he prefently ganvjljes with evil fpir its.

Add to this, that the human temper is to be confidered as afyflem,'
the parts of which have a mutual dependence on each other. Intro-
duce diforder into any one part, and you derange the whole. Suffer
but one pafTion to go out of its place, or to acquire an unnatural
force, and prefently the balance of the foul will be broken; its pow-
ers will jar among ihemfelves, and their operations become difcor-
dant. — Keep thy heart, therefore, with all diligence ; for all thy diligence
is here required. And though thine own keeping alone will not
avail, unlefs the afliftance of a higher power concur, yet of this be
well afRired, that no aid from heaven is to be expelled, if thou fliait
neglecb to exert thyfelf in performing the part affigned thee.

Having now Ihown the importance of exercifing government
over the heart, t proceed to confider more particularly in what that
government confifts, as it refpeds the thoughts,~the pafTions, and the
temper.

I begin with the thoughts, which are the prime movers of the
whole human condud. All that makes a figure on the great theatre
of the world, the employments of the bufy, the enterprifes ©f the am-
bitious, and the exploits of the warlike, the virtues which form the
happinefs, and the crimes which occafion the mifery of mankind,
originate in that filent and fecret recefs of thought which is hidden
from every human eye. The fecrecy and filence which reign there»>
favour the prejudice entertained by too many, that thought is exempt-
ed from all controul. Paflions, they perhaps admit, require govern-
ment and rcffraint, becaufe they are violent emotions, and diflurb fo-
ciety. But with their thoughts, they plead, no one is concerned.
By thefc, as long as they remain in their bofom, no offence can be
given, and no injury committed. To enjoy unref^rained the full
range of imagination, appears to them the native right and privilege
of man.

Had they to do with none but their fellow-creatures, fuch reafofi-
ing might be fpecious. But they ought to remember, that, in the
fight of the. Supreme Being, thoughts bear the charadler of good or

evil

of the Heart, 233^

evil, as much as a<£lions; and that they are, in efpeclal manner, the
fubje£ls of divine jurifdidion, becaufe they are cognizable at no othcp
tribunal. The moral regulation of our thoughts, is the particular
teft of our reverence for God. If we reftrain our pallions from
breaking forth into open diforders, while wc abandon our imaginatiort
in fecret to corruption, we fhow that virtue reds with us upon regard
to men \ and that however we may ad a part in public with propri-
ety, there is before our eyes no fear of that God who Jeanheth the
heart, and requiretb truth in the inward parts.

But, even abftrading from Uiis awful confideration, the govern-
ment of our thoughts mull appear to be of high confequence, from-
their dired influence on condud. It is plain, that thought gives
the firft impulfe to everj principle of adion. Adions are, in truth,,
no other than thoughts ripened into confiftency and fubftance. So
certain is this, that to judge with precifion of the chaiader of any
man, and to foretel with confidence what part he will ad, no more
Were requifite, than to be rendered capable of viewing the current of
thought which paifes moll frequently within him. Though by fuch
a method we have no accefs to judge of one another, yet thus it is
always in our power to judge of ourfelves. Each of us, by imparti-
ally«fcrutinizing his indulged and favourite thoughts, may difcovcr
the whole fecret of his real charader. This confideration alone is
fufficient to fhow, of what importance the government of thought is
tx) the keeping of the heart.

But, fuppofing us convinced of its importance, a queflion maya-
rife. How far it is within our power, and in what degree thoughts
are fubjed to the command of the will ? It is plain that they are not
always the offspring of choice. Often they are inevitably imprefiTed
upon the mind by furrounding objedg. Often they ftart up, as of
themfelves, without any principle of introdudion which we are able
t-O trace. Js the wind bkweih where it lijieth, and thou cnnfi not tell
whence ii cometh, nor whether /V goeth, equally rapid in its tranfitions,
and infcrutable in its progrefs, is the courfe of thought. Moving a-
long a train of connexions which are too delicate for cur obfeivation»
it defeats all endeavours either to explore or to flop its path. Hence
vain and fantaftic imaginations fometim.es break in upon the moil
fettled attention, and didurbeven the devout exercifes of pious minds.
Inftances of this fort muft be placed to the account of human frailty.
They are misfortunes to be deplored, rather than crimes to be con-
demned y and our gracious Creator, who knows ourfrat>X£, and remeni-^

bers

234 ^" ^^^ Government

hers zi'e ere dnji, will rot be fevere in marking every fuch error and
warv-lering of the mintl. But, after thefe allowances are made, ftjil
there remains much fcope for the proper gcverntnent of thought ;
and a multitude of cafes occur, in vvfiich we are no lefs accountable
lur what we think, than for what we do.

As, firif, when the introduction of any train of thought depends
upon ourftlves, and is our voluntary ait \ by turning our attention
towards fuch obje£ts, awakening fuch palFions, or engaging in ftich
employments, as we know muft give a peculiar determination to our
thoughts. Next, when thoughts, by whatever accident they may
Iiave been originally fuggeffed, are indulged with deliberation and
complacency. Though the mind has been paflive in their reception,
and therefore free from blame ; yet, if it be active in their conti-
nuance, the guilt becomes its own. They may have intruded at firf^,
Jike unbidden guefts ; but if, when entered, they are made welcome,
and kindly entertained, the cafe is the fame as if they had been invited
from the begiiming. If we be thus accotmtable to God for
thoughts either voluntarily introduced, or deliberately indulged, we
are no lefs fo, in the lall place, for thofe which find admittance into
our hearts from fupine negligence, from total relaxation of attention,
from allowing our imagination to rove with entire licence, like the
eyes of /he fool, iowards the ends of the earth. Our ininds are, in this
cafe, thrown open to folly and vanity. They are proflitutcd to every
evil thing which pleafes to take poffefTion. The confequences mufl
ail be charged to our account ; and in vain we plead excufe from hu-
man infirmity. Hence it appears, that the great cbjedl at which we
are to aim in governing our thoughts, is, to take the mofl efFedlual
meafures for preventing the introdudlion of fuch as are flnful, and for
haffening their expulfion, if they fhall have introduced themfclvea
without confent of the will.

But when we defcend into our breafls, and examine how far we
have f]ud^edto keep this object in view, who can tell hoiv oft he hath
offended} In no article of religion or morals are men more culpably
remifs than in the unrertrained indulgence they give to fancy \ and
that too, for mf)^ parr, without rcmorfe. Since the time that Rea>-
fon began to exert her powers, Thought, during our waking hours,
has been a6live in every breafl, without a moment's fufpenfion o*
paufc. Tlie current of ideas has been always flowing. The wheels
of the fpiritual engine have circulated with perpetual motion. Let
me aflc, wfat has been the fruit of this inceifant a6livity with the
grcateft part of mankind? Of the innumerable hours that liavc beei^

employed

of the Heart. S^'S

employed in thought, how few are marked with any permanent or
ufefu] efFed ? How many have either pafled away in idle dreams ; or
have been abandoned to anxious difcontented muilngs, tourifocial ani
malignant pallions, or to irregular and crin-»inal defires r Had I pow-
er to lay open that florehoufe of iniquity which the hearts of top many
conceal ; could I draw out and read to them a lift of all the imagi-
nations they have devifed, and all the pafEons they have indulged ia
fecret ; what a pi£lureof men v/ould I prefent to themfelves! What
crimes would they appear to have perpetrated in fancy, vvhicii to their
moft intimate copnpanions they durfl: not reveal!

Even when men imagine their thoughts to be innocently employ-
ed, they too commonly (ufFer them to run out into extravagant ima-
ginations, and chimsricai plans of what they would v.ifn to attain, or
chufe to be, if they could frame the courfe of things according to their
defire. Though fuch employments of fancy come not under the fame
defcription with thofe which are plainly criminal, yet wholly un-
blamable they ieldom are, Befides the wafle of time which they
occafion, and the mifapplication which they mdicate of%thofe intelec-
iual powers that were given to us for much nobler purpgfes, fuch ro-
mantic fpeculations lead us ajways into the neighbourhood of forbid-
den regions. They place us on dangerous ground. They are for
the moft part connecled with fome one bad paflion; and they always
nourifh a giddy and frivolous turn of thought. They unfit the mind
for applying with vigour to rational purfuits, or for arquiefcing
in fober plans of condud. From that ideal world in which it allows
itfelf to dwell, it returns, to the commerce of men, unbent and re-
laxed, fickly and tainted, averfe from difcharging the duties, and
Jonietimes difcjualified even for relifhing the pleafures of ordinary life. ^
O Jerujakm I vjajh ihine heart from ivickednefs. Hoiv kvg fhall thy
Vain thoughts lodge within thee* ? — In order to guard ag^inft all fuch
corruptions and abufes of thought as I have mentioned, it may be
profitable to attend to the following rules :

In the firft place, ftudy to acquire the habit of attention to thought.
No (ludy is more important ; for in proportion to the degree in
which this habit is polfeiTed, fuch commonly is the degree of intel-
Icdual improvement. It is the power of atfention which i-n a great
meafure diflinguiihcs the wife and the great fiom the vulgar and tri-
fling herd of men. The latter are accullomed to think, or rather to
dream, without knowing the fubjedl of their thoughts. In their un-
coiinciSted rovings, they purfue no end ; they follow no track. Eve- '
* Jtrem. iv 14. • ry

■^3^ On the Government

xy thing floats loofe and disjointed on the fnrface of their mind ; like
.leaves Icattered and blown about on the face of the waters.

In order to lead your thoughts into any ufeful diredi,on, yourfirft
care muft be, to acquire the power of fixing them, and of reflrain-
jng their irregular motions. Inure yourfelves to form a plan of pro-
per meditation; to purfue it fteadily ; and with feyere authority to
]<eep the door fhut againfl: intrufions of v/andering fancy. Let your
mind, for this purpofe, become a frequent objefl to itfelf. Let your
thoughts be made the (ubje<!l: of thought and review. — " To what
is my attention at pr«fent;dire£led r Could I difclofe it without a bluHi
lo the world r Were God inftantly to call me into judgment, what
account could I give ot it to him r Shall I be the wifer or the better
for dwelling on fuch thoughts as now fill my mind r Are they entirely
confiftent with my innocence, and with my prefent and future peace?
If they arc not, to what purpofe do I indulge fuch unprofitable or dan-
gerous mufingsr" — 3y frequent exercife of this inward fcrutiny, we
might gradually bring imagination under difcipline, and turn the pow-
ers of thought to their proper ufe as means ot improvement, inftead
of fuffering them to be only the inftruments of vanity and guilt.

In the fecond place, in order to the government of thought, it is
recefiary to guard againlt idlenefs. Idlenefs is tiie great fomenter of
all corruptions in the human heart. In particular, it is the parent
of loofe imaginations and inordinate defires. The ever acStive and reft-
lefs power of thought, if not employed about what is good, will
naturally and unavoidably engender evil. Imagine not that mere oc-
cupation, of whatever kind it be, will exempt you from the blame
and danger of an idle life. Perhaps the worft fpecies of idlenefs is a
dilTipated, though feemingly bufy life, fpent in the haunts of loofe
fociety, and in the chafe of perpetual amufement. Hence a giddy
mind, alternately elated and deje£led with trifles, occupied with no
recolledlion of the part but what is fruitlefs, and with no plans for
the future but what are either frivolous or guilty.

As, therefore, you would govern your thoughts, er indeed as you
would have any thoughts that are worthy of being governed, provide
honourable en.ployment for the native a£livity of your minds. Keep
knowledge, virtue, and ufefulnefs, ever in view. Let your lirie pro-
ceed in a train of fuch purfuits as are worthy of a Chriflian, of a ra-
tional and focial Being. While thefe are regularly carried on as the
xnain bufinefs of life, let amufement poffefs no more than its proper
place in thediftribution of your tiine. Take particular care that your
amufements be of an irreproachable kind, and that all your fociety be

either

of the Heart, f^'i'i

either improving or innocent. So -flisJI the Hream of your thoughts
be made to run in a pure channel. Manly occupations atid virtuous
principles will.expel the taint, which idlenefs ne\er fails to cumiiiuni-
caie to the vacant mind.

In the third place, when criminal thoughts arife, attend to all the
proper methods of fpeedily fupprelling ifiem. l^ake example^ from
the unhappy ir.duftry which fmners difcovcr in banifhing good ones
when a natural lerde of religion forces them on their con(cier;ce. HovV
anxioully do they iiy from themleivesr how riudioufly do they tlrovvn
the voice which upbraids them in the noife of company or diveriionil
what numerous artifices do they»eniploy to evade liie uneafinefs which
returns of refieftion would produce r — Were we to ufe equal dilii/ence
in preventing the entrance of vicious fuggeRions, or inexpellifi" them
when entered, why (hould we not be equally fuccefsful in a much better
caufe ? — As foon" as you are fenfib^e that any dangerous paflion begins
to fevraeut, inflantly call in other pafllons, and other ideas, to your
aid. HaHen to turri your thoughts into a different diredion. Sum-
mon up whatever ycai have found lo be o{ power for compofin^ and
harmo:r.z:iig your mind. Fly for afTiiiance to ferious ftudies, to prayer
and dei'Otion ; or even fly to bulinefs or innocent fociety, if foli-
tude be in hazard of favouring the fedufticn. By fuch means you
may (top the progrefs of the growing evil. You may apply an anti-
dote, before the pcifon has had time lo work its full effed.

Int t!;e forth place, it will be particularly ufeful to iivprefs your
minds with an habitual fenfe of tb.e prefence of the Almighty. When
we refiefl: what a (irong check the belief of divine omiiilcience is cal-
culated to gi\e to all criminal tlioughts, we are tempted to fufpe£t,
tha^t even by Chriftians this article of faith is not received with fm-
cere convi6iion. For who but mu.'t confefs, that if he knew a pa-
rent, a friend, or a neighbour, to have the power of looking into his
heart, he durrt not allov^ himfelf that luibounded fcope wliich he no\r
gives to his imagination and define? Whence, then, comes ittopafs,
that men, without fear or concern, bring into the prefcnce of the
awful majefty of Heaven that folly and licentionlnelsof thought which
vvoidd make them blufh and tremble, if one of their own fellow-
creatures could defcry it \ At the fame time, no principle is fupport-
ed by clearer evidence than^the omnifcience of God. All religious
feds have admitted it, all focieties of men, in their oaths and cove-
nants, appeal to it. The Sovereign of the univerfe cannot but hnow-
what paifes throughout his dominions. He who fupports all nature
mnfl needs pervade and fill it. He who formed the heart \i cert'rtinly
confcioMS to what paffes within it. •

Ncver let this great article of faith efcape from yoar^ view. la ,

G g thinking,

23S On the Government

thinking, as well as in acting, accuftom yourfelves to look np with re-
verence to that piercing €3.6 of divine obfervation, which never Jlum-
hers nor JJeeps. Behold a pen always writilrg over your head, and
making up that great record of your tlioughts, words, and a£iion?,
from which at la!t you are to be judged. Think that ycu are never
lefs alone than when by yourfelves ; for then is He ftiil with you
whole infpectioii is of greater confequcnce than that of all mankind.
Let thcfe awful confiderations not only check the dilllpation of cor-
rupt fancy, but infufe into your fpirits that folemn compofure which
is the parent of meditation and wifdom. Let them not only expel
what is evil, but introduce in its (lead what is pure and holy ; elevat-
ing your thoughts to divine and eternal objeds, and ading as the
counterpoife to thofe attra£tions of the world, which would draw your
whole attention downwards to fenfe and vanitv.

SERMON XVIII.

The fame Object continued.

Proverbs, iv. 23.
Keep thy heart with all diligence : for out of it are the 'fjties of life,

HAVING treated, in the foregoing difcourfe, of the govern-
ment of the thoughts, I proceed to confider the government of
the paflions as the next great duty included in the keeping of the heart,

Paihons are ftrong emotions of the mind, occafioned by the view
of apprehending good or evil. They are original parts of theconfli-
tution of our nature ; and therefore to extirpate them is a miftaken aim.
Religion requires no more of us than to moderate and rule them.
VV^hen our blelTed Lord allumed the nature, without the corruption,
of man, he was fubjeil; to like paflions with us. On fome occafions
hefelt therifrngs of anger. He was often touched with pity. He was
grieved infpirit ; he forrowed and he wept.

Pailions, when properly direfled, may be fubfervient to vcryufeful
eniis. They roufc the dormant powers of the foul. They are even
found to .exalt them. They often raife a man above himfeU, and ren-
der him iTiore penetrating, vigorous, and marterly, than iie is in his
calmer hours. Actuated by fome high pa(fion,_ he conceives great
dsfigns, and fiirmounts all difficulties in the execution. He i-s infpired
with more hjfty fentirnents, and endowed with more perfuafive utter-
ance, than he polTt^Tes at any other time. P-iflions are the adive for-
ces of the foul. They are its hi^gheft powers brought into movement
and exertion. But, like 2" other great powers, they are either uk-
fnl or deftrufiive, according to their dire£lion and degree : as wind
and fire are inftrumental in carrying on many of the beneficent ope-
rations

of.the Heart. 239

rations of nature ; but when they rife to undue violence, or deviate
from their proper courfe, their path is marked with min.

It is theprefent infehcity of human nature, that thofe ftrong emo-
tions of the mind are become too powerful for the principle which
ought to regulate them. This is one of the unhappy confequences
of our apofta(y from God, that the influence of rcafon is weakened,
and that of paffion ftrengthened within the heart. When man revolt-
ed from his Maker, his paflions rebelled againft himldf ; and, from
being originally the minifiers of reafon, have become the tyrants of
the foul. Hence, in treating oi this fubjedt, two things may be af-
fnmed as principles: firft, that through the prefent vvcaknefs of the
underdanding, our paffions are often direded tovt'ards improper ob-
jefls ; and next, that even when their dired^ion Is jud, and their ob-
je£i:s are innocent, they perpetually tend to run into excefs ; they al-
ways hurry us towards their gratification with a blind and dangerous
impetuofity. Onthefe two points then turns the whole governirient
of our paffioiis: firft, to afcertain the proper objeds of their purfuit ;
and next, to refirain them in that ptirfuit, when they would carry 113
beyond the bounds oi reafon. If there be any pallion which intrudes
kfelf unfeafonably into our mind, which darkens and troubles our
judgment, or iiabltually difcompofcs our temper ; which unfits us tor
properly difcliarging the duties, or dilqualifies us for cheerfully enjoy-
ing th€ coiT^forts of life, we may certainly conclude it to have gained
a dangerous afcendant. The great obje6t which we ought to propofe
to ourfelves is, to acquire a firm and fteadfaft reind, which the in-
fatuation of pafiion (hall not feduce, n^)r its violence fliake ; which,
r-efting on fixed principles, (liall, in the midft of contending emotion'^,
remain fr* e, and mafter of itfclf ; able to liften calmly to the voice of
-confcience, and prepared to obey its dictates without hefitation.

To obtain, it poffible, fuch command of paflion, is one of the high-
eft attainments ot the rational nature. Arguments to ftiow its im-
portance crowd upon us from every quarter. If there be any fertile
fource of mifchief to human life, it is, beyond doubt, the mifrule of
pafTion. It is this which poifons the enjoyment of individuals, over-
turns the order of fociety, and (trews the path of life with fo many
miferies, as to render it indeed the valley of tears. All thofe great
fcen«s of public calamity, which we behold with aftoniftiment and
horrour, have originated from the fource of violent paftions. Thefe
have overfpread the earth with bloodftied. Thefe have pointed the
aifaffin's dagger, and filled the poifoned bowl. Thefe, in every age,
have furni filed too copious materials for the orator's pathetic declama-
tion, and for the poet's tragical fong.

When from public life we defcend to private condu£V, though
paflion operate not there in fuch a wide and deftrudtive fphere, we
fliall find its influence to be no lefs baneful. I need not mention the

24-0 On the Govern7nent

biack and fierce paHions, inch as envy, jealciify, -and revenge, whofe
effcds are obvionily noxious, and whole agiiati(\ns are irrimediatc iiiile-
ry. But take any of the licentious and fenfual kind. Suppofc it to
have unlimited fcope \ trace it ihroiighout its ccurfe ; and you uiU
find that gradually, as it rifes, it taints ihe foiindners, and troubles
the pi ace of his mind over whom it reigns ; that in us progrefs it en-
gages him m purfuits which are marked either with danger or with
Ihaaie •, that in the end it waftes his fortune, dcftroys his health, or
debafes his , character ; and aggravates all tlie miferies in vyhich it
has involved him witli the concluding pangsof hitter remorfe. Through
all the ftages of this fatal courfe, how many have hererofpre run r
What multitudes do we daily behold jUJifuing it, with blind and htad-.
long Heps r

But, on the evils which flow from unreflrained paHions, it is need-
Ids to enla/ge. Hardly are there any fo ignorant or inconliderate as
not to admit, that where paflion is allowed to reign, botli happinefs
and virtue muft be impaired. I proceed therefore to what is ot more
confcquence, to fuggeft fome diredlions which n^ay be ui,.ful in afTift-
ing us to preferve the government of our pafiions.

In the firfi pface, we muft fmdy to acquire juft views of the com-
parative importance of thofe objeds that are moft ready to attraft de-
lire. The erroneous opinions which we form concerning happinefs
and mifery, give rife to all the miflakenand dangerous pailions which
V mbroil our life. We fufferourfelves to be dazzled by unreal appear-
ances of pleafure. We follow, with precipitancy, whitherfoever the
crowd leads. We admire, without examination, what oi.t prede-
ctObrs have admired. We fly from every fhadow at which we fee
others tremble. Thus, agitated by vain fears and deceitful l.-^pcs, ive
are hurried into eager contcfts about objedls which are in themfelves
of no value. By re6lifying our opinions, we (hould ftrikear the root
of the evil. If our vain imagin:;tions were cliaftened, the tumult of
our pafiions would fubfide.

It isobferved, that the young and theigr<orant are always the mofl
violent in purfuit. The knowledge which is forced uj)on them by
longer acquaintance with the world, m.oderates their impetuofity.
Study then to anticipate, by reflexion, that knowledge which experi-
ence often purchafesat too dear a price. Inure yourfelves to frequent
confideration of theemptinefs of thofe pl?;irures which excite fo much
flrife and commotion among mankind. Tlunk how much more of
uue enjoyment is loll by the violence of paflion, than by the want of
tiiofe things which give occafion to that jiafilon. Perfuade yonrfeh'es
i.Ar the favour of God aijd the pofTeflion of virtue form ihe chief
happinefs of the rational nature. Let a contented mind, and a peace-
ful life, hold tlie next nlace in vour eftim^^'-iou. The fe are the con-=i

clufions

if the Heart t 24-1

clufionc which -the wife and thinking part of mankind have al-
ways formed. To thefe conclufions, alter having run the race of
paliTon, ycu will probably come at the Jaft, By forming them be-
times, you wopld make a fcafonable efcape from that tempeduous re-
gion ; through which none can jiafs without fuiFcring mifety, con-
irading guilt, and undergoing fevere remorfe.

In the fecond place, in order to attain the command nf paiTion, it is
reqiiifite to acquire the power of fclf-denial. The felf-denial of a Chri-
fiian confids not in perpetual suHerity of life, and univerfal renun-
ciation of the innocent comloris of thewc^ld. Religion requires no
lucli ur.nerefTary faciifices, nor is any fucii foe to prefent enjoyment.
It confirts in our being ready, on proper occafions, to abflain from
pleafure, or to fubirJt to fuffering, for the fake of duty and cc^nfciencc,
or fipm a view to fome higher and more extenfive good. , If we pof-
fcfs not this power, we (hall be the prey of every loofe inclination
that chances to arife. Pampered by continual indulgence, all our paf-
fions will become mutinous and headftrong. Defire, not reafon,
will be the ruling principle of our condu6}:.

As, therefore, you would keep your paffions within Ax\(t bounds,
you muft betimes accuflom them to know the reins. You niuft not
wait till fome critiral occafion for the excrcife of felf-denlal occur.
In vain you will attempt to a£l with authority, if your ^vc?>i tffay be
made when temptation has inliamed the iTiind. In cooler hours.-you
muft fo-metimes abridge your enjoyment even of what is innocent.
In the midPi of lawful pleafure you muft maintain moderation, ab-
fiemioufnefs, and felf-cominand. The obfervance of this difcipline
is the only method of fupporting reafon in its' proper afcendant. For
if you allow yourfelves always to flretch to the utmoft point of inno-
cence and fafetVi beyond tiiat point you will infallibly be hurried,
when paftion fhall arife in its might to fhake the heart.

In the third place, irnprefs your minds deeply with this perfuafion,
that nothing is what it appears to be when you are under the power
of pafTion. Be afTured, that no judgment which you then form can
be in the leaft depended upon as found or true. The fumes which
arife from a heart boiling with vicjlent pafiions, never fail to darken
and trouble the ynderflanding. When the gourd v/ithered, under the
{liadeof which the prophet Jonah repofed, his mind, already rufrlcd
by the difappointment of his predictions, loft, on occafion of this
flight incident, all conwTiand of itfclf ; and in the midft of his impa-
tience, he wijhed to die ralker than t a live. Inftead of being calmed
by that expoftulating voice, Dojl thou well, O Jonah ! to he angry he-r
caiije of the gourd ? he replied with great emotion, I do well to be an-
gry even unto death. But did Jonah think fo when his paftion had a^
baud ? D-1 (hefe f-ntimcnts bear the kaft rcfeinblanc.e to that hum--

lie

242 ^« the Government

ble and devout prayer which, on another occafion, v;hen in his calni
mind, he put up to God * ? No two perfons can difrer more from each
orher, than the fame perfon dJffers from himfelf, when agitated by
paffion, and when mafter of his reafon. I do well to be angry, is the
language of every man when his mind is iiiflamed. Every paflion
j'jftifies itfelf. It brings in a thoufand pretences to its aid. It bor-
rows many a falfe colour to hide its deformity. It pofTefTes a
fort of maoic, by which it can magnify or diminifli objefls at pleafiire,
and transform the appearance of every thing within its fphei-e.

Let the knowledge of this impoflure which paflion pra6l:ifes, place
you continually on your guard. Let the remembrance of it be ever
at hand, to check the extravagant judgments which you are apt to
pafs in thofe moments of delufion. LiOen to no fuggeftion which
then arifes. Form no conclufions on which you are to afl- Alfure
vourfelves that every thing is beheld through a falfe medium. Have
patience for a little, and the tUufion will vanifh ; the ntmofphere will
clear up around you, and objects return to be viewed in their native
colours and juft dimenfions.

In the fourth place, oppofe early the beginnings of pafuon. A-
void particularly all fuch objefls as are apt to excite pafHon? which
you know to predom.inate within you. As foon as you find the tem-
peft rifing, have recourfe to every proper methodi either of allaying
its violence, or of efcaping to a calmer fnore. Haffen to call up e-
motions of an oppofite nature. Study to conquer one pafTion by
means of fome other which is of lefs dangerous tendency. Never
account any thing fmall or trivial which is in hazard .of introducing
diforder into your heart. Never make light of any defire which you
leel gaining fuch progrefs as to threaten entire dominion. B'andifh-
jng it will appear at the firiL As a gentle and innocent emotion, it
may fteal into the heart ; but as it advances, it is Xxk&Xy to pierce you
through rvith many for rotvs. What you indulged as a favourite amufe-
inent, will fhortly become a ferious bufinefs ; and in the end may
prove the burden of your life, Moft of our paflions flatter us in
their rife. But their beginnings are treacherous ; their growth is im-
perceptible ; and the evils which they carry in their train lie conceal-
ed, until their dominion is eftabliflied. What Solomon fays of one
of them, holds true of them all, that their heginning is as when one
letteth out wafer'Y. It iiTues from a (mall chink, which once might
have been eafily flopped \ but being neglected, it is foon widened by
theftream; till the bank is atla!> totally thrown down, and the flood
is at liberty to deluge the whole plain.

In the fifth place, theexcefsof every pafTion will be moderated by
frequent meditation on the vanity of the world, the fliort cantinuarice
* See Jonah.n. \ Prcv, xvii. 14. of

of tie Heart. 243

of life, the approach of death, judgment, and eternity. The ima--
ginary degree of importance which the negledl oi fuch medhation fut-
lers us to bcftovv on temporal things, is one great caufe of our vehe-
mence in dehre, and our eagernefs in purfuit. We attach ourfelves
to the objtds around us, as if we could enjoy them forever. High-
er and more enlarged profpe6ts of the deftination of man would !ia-
turally cool his milplaced ardour. For what can appear fo confide-
rable in human afiairs, as to difcompore or agitate the mind of hitn
to whofe view eternity lies open, and all the greatnefsot the univerfe
of God r How contemtible will feem to him this hurry of fpirits,
this turmoil of paihon, about things which are fo foon to end r —
Where are they who once diflurbed the world with the violence oi
their conteRs, and filled it with the renown of their exploits ? What
now remains of their defigns and enterprifes, of their paflTions and
pinfuits, oi their triumphs and their glory ? The flood of tirne has
pailcd over them, and fwept them away, as if they had never been.
The fafhlon of the zrer/y changes continually around us. We fuccced
one another in the human courfe, like troops of pilgrims en their
journey. Abfurdly we fpend our time in contending about the trifics
of a day. while we ought to be preparing for a higher exigence. E-
ternity is juft at hand to clofe this introdu6lory fcene. It is faft roll-
ing towards us, like the tide of a vaft ocean, ready to fwallow up all
human concerns, and to leave no trace behind it, except the confe-
quencesof our good or bad deeds, which ihall laft for ever. — Let fuch
reflexions allay the heat of paflion. Let them reduce all human things
to their proper ftandaid. From frivolous purfuits let them recal our
attention to objedls of real importance ; to the proper bufinefs of man ;
to the improvement of our nature, the difcharge ot our duty, the ra-
tional and religious condihSl oi human life.

In the laft place, to our own endeavoms for regulating our pafTions,
let us join earnefl prayer to God. Here, if any where, divine af-
fiftance is requifite. For fuch is the prefent blindnefs and imperfec-
tion of human nattire, that even to difcover all the diforders of our
heart is become difficult ; much more, to rectify them, is beyond our
power. To that fuperiour aid, then, which is promifed to the pi-
ous and upright, let us look up with humb'e minds; hefeeching the
Father of nsercies, that while we fttuly to a£t our own part with re-
folution and vigilance, he would forgive our returning weaknefs;
would flrengthen our conflancy in refiftrng the aflaults of paflibn ;
and enable us by his grace {o to govern our minds, that withcut con-
fiderable interruptions we may proceed in a courfe of piety and" Virtue.
It now remains to treat of the government of temper, as inciuded
in the heplng sf the heart, Pi^flicns are quick and ftron^embtions

244 ^'^ ^^^^ Government

■which by degrees fubfide.' Temper is the difpontion which remains
after thefc emotions are paft, and which forms the habitual propcnfi-
ty of the foul. The paffions are like the dream when it is fwoln by
the torrent, and ruffied by tlie winds. The temper rtfembles it when
running within its bed, with its natural velocity and force. The infm-
cnce of temper is more filent and imperceptible than that of pallion. It
operates with lefs violence; but as its operation is conftant, it produc-
es efFe£ls no lefs conriderable. It is evident, therefore, that it high-
ly deferves to be confidered in a religious view.

Many, indeed., are averfe to behold it in this li^ht. They place
a good temper upon the fame footing with a healthy conili'aition of
body. They confider it as a natural felicity which fome fenjoy ; but
lor the Want of which, others are not morally culpable, nor actoun-
table to God ; and hence the opinion has fometimes prevailed, that
a bad temper m/ight be confident with a date of grace, if this were
true, it would oYerturn that whole dod^rine, of which thegofpel is
fo full, that regeneration, or change of nature, is the efTential cha-
ra6leii(lic of a Chrilliari. It would fuppofe that grace fnijiht dwelt
amidft malevolence and rancour, and that heaven might be enjoyed
by (tich as are ffrangers to charity and love. — ^It will readily be ad-
mitted, that fome, by the original frame of their mind, are iTipre fa-
vourably inclined than others towards certain good difpf^fitions and
habits. But this affords no]uftification<to thofe who ncgle<rt to op~
pofethe corruptions to which they are prone. Let no man imagine
that the human heart is a foil altogether unfufceptiblc ef culture ; or
that the worft temper may not, through the allirtance of grace, be
reformed by attention and difcipline. Settled depravity of temper is
always owing to our own indulgence. If, in place of checking, we
nourilh that malignity o{ difpofition to which we are inclined, all
the confequenccs will be placed to our account, and every excufe
from natural conftitution be rcje(?;ed at the tribunal of Heaven.

The proper regulation of temper afFedls the character of man in
every relation which he besrs ; and includes the whole circle of re-
ligious and moral duties. This, therefore, is a fubje£l of too great
extent to be comprehended in one difcourfc. But it may be uTeftil
to take a general view of it ; and before we conlude the dodrine of
ieeping the heart, to fliew what the habitual temper of a good man
ought to be, with refpe£l to God, to iiis neighbour, and to himfelf.

First, whh refpedl to God, what he ought to cultivate is a de-
vout temper. This imports more than the care of performing the.
ofhces*of religious worfhip. It denotes that fenfibility of heart to-
wards the Supreme Being, which fprings from a deep impreflion of -
his perfections on the foul. It Rands oppofcd, not only to that difre^

garJ "

Cif the Heart. 24.C

gard of God wliich forms the dcTcription of (he impious, but to that
abfence of religions affedtions which fometinieg prevails arr.on^ thofe
who are imperfectly good. They acknowledge, perhapr, theobliea-
tions of duty. They feel fome concern to wsr/^ o»/ their fahatkn.
But thty apply to their duty through mere conitraint ; and ferve God
without afFeftion or complacency. More liberal and generous fenti-
ments anirnate the man who is of a devout temper. God dwell?? up-
on his thoughts as a benefador and a father, to whofe voice he bark-
ens with joy. AmidO the occurrences of life, his mind naturally opens
to the admiration of his wifdom, the reverence of his power, the love
of his tranfcendent goodnels. AH nature appears to his view as ftamp-
eil with the imprefs of ihcfe perfeflions. Habitual gratitude to his
Maker for nnercies pafl, and cheerful refignation to liis will in all
time to come, are the native efFufions of his heart.

Such a temper as this rfeferves to be cultivated with the utmoft at-
tention ; for it contributes, in a high degree, both to our improve-
ment and our happinefs. It refines, and it exalts human nature.
It foftens that hardnefs which our hearts are ready to contra*^ from
frequent intercourfe with this rugged world. It facilitates the dif-
charge of every duty towards God and man. At the fame time it
is a temper peaceful and ferene, elevated and rejoicing. It forms the
current of our afretlions to flow in a placid tenour. It opens pleafing
profpeds to the mind. It banifhes harlh and bitter pafhons; and
places us above the reach of many of the annoyances of worldly life.
When the temper is truly devout, the peace of God which pajjlth under"
funding keepeth the heart and Joid, I proceed.

Secondly, to point out the proper ftate of our temper with re-'
fpe*^A to one another. It is evident, in the general, that if we con-
fult either public wellare or private happinefs, Chriflian charity ought
to regulate our difpofuion in mutual interccnirfe. But as this great
principle admits of feveral dlverfmed appearances, let us confidar
fome of the chief forms luider which it ought to (how itfelf in the
ufual tenour of life. Univerfai benevolence to mankind, when it
reds in the abllrail, is a loofe indeterminate idea, rather than 2 princi-
ple of real effccfi: ; and too often floats as an ufelefs fpeculation in the
head, inflead of aifeding the temper and the heart.

What nrfl" preients iti'elf to be recjinmended, is a peaceable tem-
per; a difpohtion averfe to give offence, and defirous of cultivating
harmony, and amiicable intercourfe in fociety. This fuppofcs yielding
and condefcending manners, unv^'illingnefs to contend with others a-
bout trifles, and, in contefts that are unavoidable, proper moderatioa
of fpirit. Such a temper is the firft principle of felf-enjoyment. It
is thebafis of all order and happinefs among mankind. The pofitive

H h and

246 0:7 the Guvernment

and contentious, the rude and quaireirome, are the bane of fociety.
They feem deftined to blalt the fmall ftiare ot comfort which nature
has here allotted to man. But they cannot difturb the peace ol o-
thers, more than they break their ovv'n. The hurricane rages firft ia
their own bofom, bciore it is let forth upon the world. In the
tempells which they raife, they are always toll 5 and frequently it is
their lot to perilh.

A peaceable temper mull be fupported by a candid one, or a difpofi-
tion toview the condu£l of others with fairnefs and impartiality.
.This ftands oppofed to a jealous and fufpicious temper,, which af-
c-ribes every a£iion to the wor/l motive, and throws a black fhade over
every ch^a^er. As you would be happy in yourfelves, or in your
connexions v»'ith others, guard againd this malignant fpi: it. Study
xh-xi chdiVA)' ivhicJythinkcth no evil; that temper which, without dege-
nerating iut(; credulity, will difpofe you to bejufl; and which "caa
allow yoii to obferve an error, without imputing it as a crime.
Thus you will be kept free from that continual irritation which ima-
ginary injuries raife ill a fufpicious brcaft ; and \\\\\ walk among men
as your brethren, not your enemies.

But to be peaceable, and to be candid, is not all that is required of
a good man. He muft cultivate a kind, generous, and fympathizing
temper, wliich feels for diltrefs, wherever it is beheld ; which enters
in'o the concerns of his friends with ardour ; and to all with whom
he has intercourfe is gentle, obliging, and humane. How amiable
jjppears fuch a difpoiition, when coiitrafted with a malicious or envi-
ous temper, which wraps itielf up in its own narrow intereft, looks
with an evil eye on the fuccefs of others, and with an unnatural fa-
tisfa61ion feedion their difappointments or miferies! How little does
he know of the true happinefs of life, who is a ftranger to that inter-
courfe of good offices and kind affedions, which, by a pleafing
charn), attach men to one another, and circulate joy from heart to
heart !

You are not to imagine, that a benevolent temper finds no exer-
cife, jinlefs when opportunities offer of performing actions of high
generofity, or of extenfive utility-. Thefe may feldom occur. The
condition of the greater part of mankind, in a good meafure, precludes
them. But in the ordinary round of human affairs, a thoufand occa«
fions daily prefent themfeives of mitigating the vexations which others
fulfer, of foothing their minds, of aiding their intereft, of promot-
ing their cheerfulnefs or eafe. Such occafions may relate to the
fmailer incidents of life. But let us remember, that of fmall inci-
dents the fyltem of human life is chieBy compofed. The attentions
whichfefped thefe, when fuggefted by real benignity of temper, are
often more material to the happinefs of thofe around us, than aftions

which-

cf the "Heart. 24.7

^vhich carry the appearance of greater dignity and fplendonr. No

v/ife or good man ought to account any rules of behaviour as below

his regard, which tend to cement the great brotherhood of mankind

in comfortable union.

Particularly amidlt that familiar intercourfe wliich belongs to do-
meltic life, all the virtues ot teirioer find an ample range. It is very
unfortunate, that within that circle, men too often think themfelves
at liberty to give unreftrained vent to the cj;price of padion and hu-
mour. Whereas there, on the contrary, more than any where, it
concerns them to attend to the government of their heart ; to check
what is violent in their tempers, and to foften what is harfli in their
manners. For there the temper is formed. There, the real charac-
ter difplays itfelf. The form.s of the world difguifj men v/hen abroad!
But within his own family, every man is tnovvn to be what he truly
is. — In all our intercourfe, then, with others, par.ticularly in that which
is clofeil and mull intimate, let us cultivate a peaceable, a candul, a
gentle, and Iriendly temper. This is the temper to which, by repeat-
ed injundions, our holy religion feeks to form us. Tli's was the tern.
^tx ot Chrift. This is the temper of Heaven.

V\^E are now to confider, thirdly, the proper l^ate X)f temper, as it
refpetls the individual himfelf. The bafis of all the good difpofiti-
ons which belong to this head, is humility. By this I underlland, not
that m.tannefs of fpirit which leads a man to undervalue himfelf, and
to (ink belov/ his rank and chara6ter ; but what the fcripture expref-
ies with great propriety, when it exhorts every man, not to think of him -
jelf more highly than he ought to think, but to think Jobcrly*. He wh»
adopts all the flattering fuggeftions of felf-love, and forms clairns upon
the world proportioned to the imaginary opinion which he has con-
ceived of his merit, is preparing for himfelf a thoufand mortifications.
Whereas, by checking the rilings of ill-founded vanity, antl retreating
within thofe bounds which a moderate eflimation ofour charader pre-
fcribes, \\eefcape the mileries v^hich nlways purfue an arrogant mind,
and recommend ourfelves to the favour both of God and man.

Hence will naturally arife a contented temper, which is one of the
greateft blefTings that can be enjoyed by man, and one of the moft ma-
terial rcquilites to the proper difcharge of the duties of every flation.
For a fretful and diicontented temper renders one incapable of per-
forming aright any part in life. It is unthankful and impious to-
wards God ; and towards men, provoking and unjuft. It is a gangrene
which preys on the vitals, and infe£\s the whole conftitution with dif-
eafe and putrifa6lion. Subdue pride and vanity, and you will take
|he moft efifeQtial method of eradicating this diftemper. You will no
* Rom, xii. 3. longer

248 Ofi the Goverriment of, i^c.

longer behold the ohje£ls around you ivith jaundiced eyes. Yo:j will
take in good part the blellings which Providence is pltafed to beHow,
and the degree of favour which your fellovv-creatures are difpofed to
grant you. Viewing yourfelves, with all your imperftfdions and fail-
ings, in a jufl light, you will rather be furprifeu at your enjoying fo
many good things, than difcontented, becaufe there are any which
you want.

From a humble and contented temper will fpring a cheerful one.
This, if not in itfelf a virtue, is at leaft the garb in which virtue ihoulcj
be always arrayed. Piety and goodnefs ouj^ht never to be marked
with that dejeftion which fometimes takes nle from fuperftition, but
which is the proper portion only of guilt. At the fame time, the
cheerfulnefs belonging to vinue is to be carefully diflinguifhed from
jhat light and giddy temper which charaflerizes folly, and is {o often
found among the diflipated and vicious part of mankind. Their gai-
ety is owing to a total want of reflexion ; and brings Vv^ith jt the ufu-
al confequences of an unthinking habit, ihame, remorfe, and heavj-
iief§ of heart, in the end. The cheerfulnefs of a well-regulated mind
fprings from a good confcience and the favour of he3ven, and is
bounded by temperance and reafon. It makes a man happy in him-
ielf, and promotes the happinefs ot all around him. It is the clear
and calm funfhineofa mind illuminated by piety and virtue. It
crowns all other good difoofitions, and comprehends the general ef-
fe£l which they ought to produce on the heart.

Suck, on the whole, is the temper, or habitual frameof mind, in
a good man : Devout towards God ; towards men, peaceable, can-
did, afFe6lionate, and humane ; within himfelf, humble, contented,
and cheerful. To the eftablifhment of this happy temper all thediredli-
ons which I before fuggefied for the due regulation of the thoughts, and
for the government of the pafhons, naturally conduce ; in this they
ought to iflTue ; and when this temper is thoroughly formed within us,
then mav the heart be efleemed to have been kept with all dil'igcme.
That vwe may be thus enabled to keep it, for the fake both ofprefcnt
enjoyment, and of preparation for greater happinefs, let us earneffiy
pray to Heaven. A greater blefling we cannot implore of the Al-
mighty, ilian that he who made the human heart, and who knows
its frailties, would alTilf us to fubj«£l it to that difcipline which religion
requires, which reafon approves, but which his grace alone can en-
able us 10 maintain.

SERMON .

{ 249 )

S E R M ON XIX.

•On the Unchangeableness of the Divine Nature.

James, i. 17.
Every good and every perfeSf gift is from above, and comelh doivnfromlhe
Father of Lights, "with -whom is no'VariabUnefs, neither faadow of iurn-
ing.

TH E divine nature, in fome views, attracts our love : in others,
(ommands otir reverence^ in i^il. i- entitled to thehighelt atten-
tion from the Jhiiman mind, Wc never elevate our thoughts, in a
proper manner, towards the Supre'me Being, without returniri;'' to our
own rphere with fentiments more improved ; and if, at any time, his
greatnefs oppreffes our thoughts, his moral perfections always afford
us relief. His almighty power, bis infinite wifdom and fupreme good-
nefs, are founds familiar to our ears. In his immutability we arelefs
accuftomed to confider him ; and yet it is this perfection which, per-
haps, more than any other, diftingui flies the divine nature from the
human ; gives complete energy to all its other attributes, and entitles
it to the highef^ adoration. For, hence are derived the regular order
of nature, and the fledfaflnefs ok. the univerle. Hence fiows the un-
changing tenour of thofe laws which, from age to age, regulate the
condudl of mankind. Hence the uniformity of that government,
and the certainty ol thofe promifes, whicii aie the ground of our trufl
and fecurity. Goodnefs could produce no more than feeble and wa-
vering hopes, and power wouM command very imperfect reverence, if
we were left to fufpeCl that the plans which goodnefs had framed might
alter, or that the power of carrying them into execution might de-
creafe. The conteiriplation of God, therefore, as unchangeable in his
nature and in all his perfedions, mull undoubtedly be fruitful both (•{
inftrudion and of confolation to man. I (hall, firft, endeavour tt>
illulirate, in fome degree, the nature of the divine immutability; and
then make application of it to our own conduct.

EVERT good and every perfe51 gift cometh doxvnfrom the Father of Lights,
The title which in the text is given to the Deity, carries an elegant
allufion to the Sun, thefource ot light, the mofl univerlal bencfadtor of
nature, the moft regular and conftant cf all the great bodies with
which we are acquainted in the univerfe. Yet even with the Sun
there are certain degrees oivariablenej's. He apparently rifes and fets;
he feems to approach nearer to us in fummer, and to retire farther off
in winter ; his infinence is varied by the feafons, and his luftre is affe^ed
by the clouds. Whereas with him who is the Father of Lights, of
whpfe everlafting brightnefs the gfory of the Sun is but a faint image,
there is no fhadru) of turnit'g, not the moft diftant approach to change.

In

250 Oji the VnchavgeahJefiefs of

In his Ijeing or eflence it is plain that alteration can never talcp place.
For as his exigence is derived from no prior caiife, nor dependent orj
any thing witiiout himfel.f, his nature can be influenced by no power,
can be afFedled by no accident, can be impaired by no time, Frora
tverlaiting to everlafting, he continues the fame. Hence it is faid,
that hemly hath mmortalily ; -that is, he pofTeireS it in a manner in-
communicable to all ether beings. Eternity is defcribed as tht high
and holy place inwhich he dwelleth ; it is 5 habitation in which non^
but the Father of Lights can enter. The name which he taketh to
himfelf is, lam. Of ©ther 4hings, fome have been and others fhail
be; but this is he, %vhich is, uihich was, and whieh is fo come. All
time is his ; it js meafured cut by him in limited portions to the vari-
ous orders of created beings ; but his own exiilenee fills equally every
, point of duration ; ihe'frjiand the IgJ}, the hfginni>7g and the end, thp
fame yejierday, to day , and for ever.

As in his ellence, fo in his attributes a:id petfeftions, it is impoiTi-
ble there can be any change. To imperfeft natures only it l>.'long5
to improve and to decay. Every alteration which they undergo in
their abilities or diipofitions, fiows either from iiUernal defeft, or from
the infiuence of a luperiour caufe.. But as no high-er caufe can bring
from without any acceilion to the divine na'cure, fo within itfelf it
contains no principle of decay. For the fame reafon that the (elf-ex-
iflent Being was f;-om the beginning powerful and wife, iuft and goodj
he muft continue unalterably fo for ^Ver. Hence, with much pro-^
priety, the divine perfections are defcribed in fcripture by allufinns to
thofeobjtds to which v/e afcribe the moft prrmanent ftability. His
righteoufnefs is like the frong mountains. His mercy is in the heavens ;
a\id his faithfulnrfs reachcth unto the clouds. Thcfe perfeitioiis of the di-
vine nature differ widely from the hmnan virtues, which are their iaint
fhadows. The juffice of men is at one time fcvere, at another time
relenting; their goodnefs is fom.etimes confined to a p^'tial fondnefs
for a few, fometimes runs out into a blind indulgence towards all.
But goodnefs and jufiice are in the Supreme Being calm and fleady
principles of aClion, which, enlightened by perfe£l v/ifdom, and ne-
ver either warped by partiality, or diflurbed by paffion, perfeverein one
regular and conflant tenor. Among men, they may fometimes break
forth with tranfcient fplendour, like thofc wandering fires which illu-
minate for a little the darknels of the night. But in God, they fliine
with that uniform brightnefs, which Vv'e can liken to nothing [o much
as to the untroubled, eternal luftre of the higheft heaven.'.

From this follows, what is chiefly material for us to attend to,
that in the courfeof his operatiors3 towards mankind, in his counfels
and decrees, in his laws, his promifes, and his threatenings, there is
no variallcnefs nor fhadow of turnirg with the AlrrJghty. Known to

him

the Divine Nalure. 2: 5*

him from the beginning were all his works. In the divine idea the
whole fyttcin of nature exifled, long belore the foiindations ot the
earth were laid. When he faid, Let there be lights he only realized
the great plan which, from everlailing, he had formed in his own
mind. ForefeeQ by him was every revolution which the courfe of
ages was to produce. Whatever the cou^ilcls of men can effect was
comprehended in his decree. No new emergency can arife to iur-
prife huB. No agitations of anger or of Ibrrovv, of fear or of hopev
can (hake his xviwA or infiuence his condu£l. He relfs in the eternal
polkflion ot that fupreme beatitude, vvt.ich neither the virtues nor
thecrimes t>f men can in the leaft affect. From a motive of ovei-,
flowing good'.iefs, he reared up the univerfe. As the eternal lover
of righteoufnefs, he rul^s it. The whole fyfiein ot his government
is ii.^etl ; his laws arc irrevocable ; and, what he once Icveth, he lov-
eth to the end. In fcripture, indeed, he is fometimes laid to Is g'ifVcd,
and to repent. But fuch expreillons, it is obvious, are employed
ficm accommodation to common conception ; in the fame manner
as when bodily organs arc, in other pafTages, afcribed to God. The
fcripture, a^ a rule of life addreifed to the multitude, mull make ufs
oi the language of men. The divine nature, reprefeiited in its laa-
tive fublimity, would have tranfcended all hurnan conception-
V/hen, upon the reformation of fmners, God is faid to repent of the
m/ which he hath threatened againft them ; tiiis intimates no more,
than that he f'uits his difpenfations to the alterations which take place
in the chara£lers of men. His dirporitit)n towards good and evil coa-
tinues the fame, but varies in its application as its obje6lsvary ; juft
as the laws themfelves, which are capable of no change of afTcftion,-
bring rewards or punithments at different times to the fame perfon,
according as his behaviour alters. Immutability is indeed fo clolely
connedled with the notion of fupreme perfeilion, that wherever any
rational conceptions of a Deity have taken place, this attribute has
been afcribed to him. Reafon taught the wife and refl[e£lii;g in every
age to believe, that, as what is eternal cannot die, fo what is perfe£l
can never vary, and that the great Governor of the univerfe could be
no (Uher t!;an an unchangeable Being.

From the contemplation of this obvious, but func'amental tru^h^^
let us proceed to the pradical improvement of it. Let us confider
what effetfb the ferious confideration of it ought to produce on our
mind and behaviour.

It will be proper to begin this head of difcourfe by removing an
objeclion which the doctrine I have iluiflrated may appear to forrn
againft religious fervice^, and in particular againft the duty of prayer-
To what purpofe, it may be urged, is homage addreded to a Bemg
whofe purpofe is unalterably fixed; to whom our rightesvjnefs extendcth
not; Tvhotn by no arguments we can perfuade, ar.d by no fupplica-

252 On the Unchnngeahknefs cf

tions we can mollify ■ The objection would have weight, if our re-
ligious addrelFes were defigncd to work any alteration on God ; ei-
ther by giving him information ot what he did not know ; or by ex-
citing affeftions which he did not poffefs ; or by inducing him to
change meafures which he had previoufly formed. But they are only
crude and imperfect notions of religion which can fuggeft fuch
ideas. The change which our devotions are intended to make, is
upon ourfelves, not upon the Almighty. Their chief efficacy is de-
rived from the gooddifpofitions which they raife and cherifh in the
human foul. By pouring out pious fentiments and defires before
'God, by adoring his perledion, and confefling our own unwonhy-
nefs, by exprefling our dependence on his aid, our gratitude for his
paft favours, our fuhmiffion to his prefent will, our truft in his future
mercy, we cultivate luch affeilions as fuitonr place and ftation in the
univerfe, and are thereby prepared for becoming objects of the divine
grace. Accordingly, frequent afTurances are given us in Scripture,
that the prayers of fincere worfhippers, preferred through the great
Mediator, fhall be produflive of the happitil efFc6ls. When they ajk^
ihey Jhall receive; zvhen they feek, they jh all find ; vjhen they knock, it
pall he opened to them, pjjyer is appointed to be the channel for
conveying the divioe grace to mankind, becanfe the wifdom of hea-
ven faw it to be one of the moft pov/erful means of improving the
human heart.

When religious homage is confidered in this light, as a great in-
flrument of fpiritual and moral improvement, all the obje£lions which
fcepticifm can form from the divine immutability, conclude with no
more force againfl prayer, than againft every other mean of improve-
ment which reafon has fuggefted to man. If prayer be (uperfluous,
becaufc God is unchangeable, we might upon fimilar grounds conclude,
that it is needlefs to labour the earth, to nourifh our bodies, or to
cultivate our m.inds, becaufe the fertility of the ground, the continr-
ance of our life, and the degree of our underftanding, depend upon an
immutable Sovereign, and were from all eternity forefeen by him.
Such abfurd conclufions reafon has ever repudiated. To every plain
and found underftanding it has clearly dictated, that to explore the
unknown purpofes of Heaven belongs not to us ; but that He v.' ho
decrees the end, certainly requires the means; and that, in the dili-
gent employment of all the means which can advance either our tern- '
poral or fpiritual felicity, the chief exertions of human wifdo.m and '
human duty confifh AlTuming it then for an undoubted principle,'^'-
that religion is a reafonable fervice, and that, though with the Father •
of Lights there be no variablenejs, the homage of his creatures is ne-
verthelefs, for the wifeft rcafons, required by him, I proceed to fhevv«4
what fentiments the contemplation of divine immutability Ihould raife
in our minds, and what duties it fhould chiefly enforce. I.

the Divine Nature. 25^

I. Let it excite us to aduiire and adore. Filled witli profound
reverence, let us look up tothit Supreme Being who fits from ever-
lading on the throne of the unjverfe ; moving all things, but re-
maining immoveable hiinfelf; direding every revolution of the cre-
ation, but citFeded by no revolutions of events or of time. He beholds
the heavens and the earth loax old as a garment, and decay like a vef.
ture. At their appointed periods he rnifes up, or he diffolves worlds.
But amidil all the convulfions of changing and perifliing nature, his
glory and felicity remain unaltered. — i he view of great and flupen-
dous objects in the n^itural world ftrikes the mind with folemn awe.
What veneration, then, ought to be infpired by the contemplation of
an ol->je6l fo iublime as the eternal and unchangeable Ruler ot the u-
niverfe! I'he compofure and flillnefs of thought introduced by Inch
a meditation, has a powerful tendency both to purify and to elevate
the heart. It effaces, for a time, thole trivial ideas, and extinguilli-
es thofe low pafTions, which arife from the circle of vain and pailing
6bje(5ls around us. It opens the mind to all the fentiments of devo*
tion ; and accompanies devotion, with that profound reverence
■which guards it from every improper excefs. W hen we confider the
Supreme Being as employed in works of love ; when we think of his
condefcenfion to the human race in fending his Sol to dwell on the
earth ; encouraged by favours, and warmed by gratitt]cle, we are
fometimes \x\ danger of prefumirg too much on his goodnefs, and of
indulging a certain fondnefs of aftedtion, which is unfuitabic to our
humble and dependent Itate. It is neceflary that he Ihould frequent-
ly appear to our minds in all that majefly with which the imtnutabili-
ty of his nature clothes him ; in order that reverence may be com.
bined with love, and that a mixture of facred awe may challen the
rapturous effufions of warm devotion. Servile tear, hideed, would
crulh the fpirit of ingenuous and affedlionate homage. But that re-
verence which fprings from elevated conceptions of the divine nature,
has a happy eflecl in checking the forwardiiefs of imagination, re-
f^raining our affedions within due bounds, and compofing our thoughts
at the fame time that it exalts them.

When, from the adoration of the unchangeable perfection of the
Almighty, we return to the view of our own Itate, the lirfl lentiment
which ought naturally to arife, is that of felf-abafement. We are
too apt to be lifted up by any little diflinftions which we poHefs ; and
to fancy ourfelves great, only becaufe there are others whom we con-
fider as lefs. But what is man, with all his advantages and boalled*
p-Dwers^ before the eternal Father of Lights f With God there is no
I i variaWenefs";

254 ^''^ ^^^^ Utichatigeahlencfs of

vnriablenefs ; with man there is no {^ability. Virtue and vice divide
the empire of his mind ; and wifdom.nnd folly alternately rule hifn.
Hence he is changeable in his defigns, fickle in his friendfliips, fluclu-
atingin his whole character. His life is a ferics of contradiclions. He
is one thing to-day, and another to-morrow ; fometimes obliged by
experience to alter his purpofe, and often led to change it through le-
vity. Variable and unequal hiinfelf, he is furrouTided with ileeting
objefts. He is placed as in the midd of a torrent, where all things
are rolling by, and nothing keeps its place. He has hardly linje
to contemplate this 'icent of viciffitude, before he too is f\\eptaway.
Thus circumftanced in himfelf, and in all the objects with which he
is connected, let hiui be admonilhed to be humble and modeit. Let
the contemplation of the unchanging glory of his Creator infpire him
■with fencirnents of due fubmiifion. Let it tt-ach him to know his
proper place; and check that vanity which is fo ready to bttray him
into guilt.

Let the fame meditation aflTeft him with a deep fenfe of what he
owes to the goodnefs of the Deity. His goodneis never appears in
fo ftrikino- a lioht, as when viewed in connexion with his preatnefs.
The defcription which is given of him in the text, calls, in this %'iew,
for our particular attention. It prefents to us the molt amiable union
of condcfcenfion with majedy, of the moral with the natural per-
feclions of God, which can pofTibly be exhibited to the imagination
of man. From the Father oj Lights, with whom there is no var'iahknefs,
neither fnaaoiv of turning, cometh dovjn every good andperfe^ gift. '1 he
mofl: independent of all Beings is reprefented as the moft beneficent.
He who is eternal and immutable, exalted above all, and incapable
of receivintr returns fron any, is the liberal and unwearied Giver of
every thing that is good. — Let fuch views of the divine nature not
only call forth gratitude and praife, but prompt us to imitate what
we adore. Let them fiiew us that benevolence is divine ; that tofioop
from our fancied grandeur, in order toafiift and relieve one another,
is fo far from being any degradation of charafter, that it is our truelt
honour, and our neareii refeaiblance to the Father of Lights.

IL Let theconfideration of the divine inmiutability convince us, that
the method of attaininjT the favour of Heaven is one and invariable.
Were the Almighty a capricious aiid inconfiant Being, like man, we
fliould be at a lofs what renour of conduct to hold. \u order to con-
ciliate his grace, we migiit think of applying (bmetimes to one fup.
l-.ofed principle of his inclinatioi); fometimes to another ; and, be-'

ViJldered

the Divine Nature. ^55

wildered amidfl various attempts, would be overwhelmed with dif-
may. The guilty would eilay to flatter him. The timid, fometimes
by auftere niortiiications, lometimes by coitly gifts, lonietiniesby ob-
fequious rites, would try ro appeafe him. Hence, in fact, have aiil'cn
all the corruptions of religious worlhip among men ; from their form-
ing the divine character upon their own, and aicribing to the Sove-
reign of the univTrfe the mutability of human pafiions. God is re-
prefented by the pfalmiit David as faying to the wicked. Thou tbovght.
eji that I ivas altogether fuch an one as ihyftlj.* This continues to be
the defcripticn of all the fuperftitious and enthuliadic lefts, which,
fince the days of David, have fprung up in the world.

It is our peculiar happinefs, under the gofpel, to have God reveal*
ed to us in his genuine character, as without variabltnefs or Pr'adovj of
turmnp'. We know that at no time thtre is any change, either in his
afFsctions, or in the plan of his adminiftration. One light always
fhines upon us from above. One clear and diredt path is ah^ays point-
ed out to man. The Supreme Being is, and was, and ever will be,
the fupporter of order and virtue ; the righteous Lore! Icanng righie-
cufnefs. The external forms of religion may vary; but under alldif-
penfations which proceed fr6m God, its fubltance is the fame, it
tends continually to one point, the purification of man's heart and
life. This was the object of the origin?! law of nature. This was
the fcope of theMoiaic indiiution amid(t allits facriiicesand rites; and
this is unqueltionably the end of the gofpel. So invariably conltant is
God to this purpofe, that the difpenfationofmercy in Cliriltjelus, which
admits of the vicarious atonement and righteouinefs of a R.edeemer,
makes no change in our obligation to fulfil the duties of a good life.
The Redeemer himfeU hath taught us, that to the end of time the
moral law continues in its full force; and that till heaven and earth
pafs aivay, one jot or tiliL^ Jl'^ll in no -wife pofs from it.\ 1 his is the
only inttitution known to men, whofe authority is unchanging and
conftant. Human laws rife and fall with the empires that gave them
birth. Syf^ems of piiilofophy vary with the progrefs of knowledge
and light. Manners, fentiments, and opinions, alter with the courfe
cf time. But throughout all ages, and amidit all revolutions, the
rule of moral and religious conduft is the fame. It partakes of thnc
immutablit)' of the divine nature, on which it is founded. Such as
it was delivered to the firft uorfhippers of God, it continues to be,
at this day, to us ; and fuch it fliall remain to our pofterity tor ever.

III.
* PCalm 1. 21. t Matt. v. i8.

$5^ ^-^ ^^^^ Unchangeablenefi of

III. Let the contemplation of this perfection of the divine nature
^each us to imitate, as far as our fraihy will permit, that conftancy
and Itedfaftiiefs which we adore. All the moral attributes of the
Supreme Bemg, are ftandards of charader towards which we ought
to afpire. But as in all thefe perfections there are properties pecu-
liar JO the divine nature, our endeavours to refemble them are laid
under great rcfbiftions by the diilimilarity between pur nature and
the divine. With refpedl to that attribute which we now confidcr,
the circumftauces are evident which preclude improper imitation. To
inan it is frequently neceflary to corred his errours, and to change
his condudl. An attempt, therefore, to continue wholly invariable,
vould, in our litUcition, be no other than imprudent and criminal
obltinacy. Biic withal, the immutable rtditude of the Deity Ihould
lead us to afpire after fixedneis of principle, and uniformity in conduct,
as the glory of the rational nature. In prefled v^ith the fenfe cf that
fupreme excellence which refults from unchanging goodnefs, faithful-
nefs, and truth, let us become aihamed of that levity w hich degrades the
huaian character. l^Qi us poiJer our paths, ad upon a well-regulated
plan, and remain confiflent with ourfelves. Contemplating the glory
of the Father of Lights, let us aim ai being transfus med, in fome de-
gree,/-^/o the fame: imcige from glory to glory. Finally,

IV. Let the divine imrnutability become the ground of confidence
and truft to good men, amidft all the revolutions of this uncertain
■world. This is one of the chief improvements to be made of the
fubjed, and therefore requires full illuftration. There are three
lights in which we may view the benefit redounding to us from that
attribute of God which we now confider. It afTures us of the con-
stancy of Nature ; of the regular adminjftration of Providence j of
the certain accomplifhment ot ail the divine promifes.

Firit, it gives us ground to depend on the conft?nt and uniform
courfe of Nature. On the unchangeablenefs of God refts the {labi-
lity of the univerfe. What we call the laws of nature are no other
than the decrees of the Supreme Being. It is becaufe He is uhkov.t
variabltnefs or poadow of turning, that thofe laws have continued the
fame fmce the beginning of tlie world ; that the Sun fo conftanily
obfervc-ihis time of rifing and goine down ; that the feafpns annu-
ally return ; the tide s periodically ebb and flow ; the earth yields its
fruits at itated intervals ; and the human boi'y and mental powers ad-
vance to maturity by a regular progrefs. In all thofe motions and
operations which aj:e inceflantly going on throughout nature, there

'.■•-•■•'■■ .... J5

the Dhine Nature. 2 c^y

is no ftop nor interruption , no change nor innovation ; no defltdi-
on from tiieir main fcope. 'I he fame powerful and iteady hand \a liich
gave thefirft impulle to the powers of nature, reUraii;s them from
ever exceeding their prefer ibed line, titixe arifes tin. chief con. tirr
of our prele lit life. We find ourielves in a regular and orderly
world. We luck forward to a known fuccellion of events. U'esre
enabled to form plans of aclion. From the caufe we caUnlaie the
effcdl ; and from the pail, we reafon with conliuence conctrning the
future.

Accullomed from our infancy to this conftancy in Nature, we arc
hardly fenfible of the bieflibg. Familiarity has the lan.e efitd liere,
as in many other enjoyn^ents, to efface gratitude. Eut let us, icra
moment, take an oppofiie view of things. Let us luppolf, tl at we
had any caule to dread capricioufnefs cr charge in the jowtr v. lio
rules the courfe of nature ; any ground to lulpedl that, but for me
day, the Sun might not rife, ncr the current of the waters held their
ufual courfe, nor the laws of motion and vegetation proceed as we
have be- n accuflomed to beheld iheni. What difnjay would ii i;.-<i't-
ly fill all hearts! what horror would feen) to overfpread the whole
face of Nature! What part could we acf, or whither conld we run,
in the midlt of coiivulfions, w hich overturned all the ireainres w t hod
formed for hr.ppinels, cr for fafcty ? 1 he prefent abode of man w ci.lJ
thenbecome, asjob defcribes th§ region of the grave, ^ Lndof dc-tk-
rej}, as darknefs itftlf, Mid thejhadow oj death ; -without any order ; and
•where the light is as darknefs. * W ith w hat joy ought we then to re-
cognife an unvarying and lledfaft Pvuler, under whofe doninion w,?
have no fuch difafters to dread; but can depend on the cuurle of na-
ture continuing to proceed as it has ever gone on, until the period fliall
arrive of its final difiblution !

But though the great laws of Namre be cqnflnnt like their Ai^-
thor, yet in the affairs of men there is much variety and change;.
All that regards our prefent poflefTions ami enji'yments was, tor
wife reafons, left, in a great mcafure, imcertain ; and from this un-
certainty arifes the dillrefs of human life. Senfible of the changes
to which we lie open, we look round with anxiouseyes, and eagerly
gi^afp at every obj(cl which appears to promife us I'ecurity. Eut in
vain is the w hole circle of huninn things explored with this view.
There is nothing on earth fo (fable as to afTure us of undifinrbed relr,
nor fo pov\ erfiil as to afford us conffant prctc»fiion. Time, deat.i,

and

* 7'/';X. 22.

S-S^ ^'^ ^^^^ UitchaiigeahlLiiC'fs of

and change, triumph over all the h.bours of r.ien. V/hat we build
•up, they incefiantJy deOroy. The public condition of nations, and
the private fortunes of individuals, arealike fubjecl; to reverfe. Life
never retains long the fame form. Its whole fcenery is continually
fhifiing around us. — Amidfl: thofe endlefs vicifritudes, what can give
any firm confolation, any fatisfying reft to tiie heart, except the domi-
nion of a wife and righteous Sovereign, -ivit\\ -whoni there is novaria-
h'enefs, nv JJyado-w cf turning? Thougli all things change, and we our-
lelves be involved in the general mutabiliry, yet as long as there is
iixed and permanent goodnefs at the head of the univerfe, we are af-
fured that the great intereils of all gcpd men ihall be fafe.Thatr/T^er
perpetually ?lo\\s, the Jlremns wherenf make glad the city (jf God. We
tnov>- that the Supreme Being loved righteoufnefs from the beginning
of days, and that he will continue to love it to the laft. Under hisgo-
Terninent none of thofe revolutions happen which have place among
the kingdoms of the earth ; where princes die, and new fovereigns
afcend the throne ; new minifters and new counfels fucceed ; the w hole
face of altairs is changed ; andfonr.er plans fall into oblivion. But
thr: thrme of the Lord is ejiahlijhed for ever ; and the thoughts of his heart
tndure to all generations . We ferve the lam.eGod whom our fathers
worfhipped, and vvho;n our pofierity lliall adore. His unchanging
jfominion comprehends all events and all ages ; eilablhhes a connecting
principle which holds together the paft, the prefent, and the future;
gives liability to things Vv'hich in themfelves are fluduating, and ex-
tracts order from thoie which appear nioH; confufed. Well may the
earth rejoice, and the tnultitude of ifles be glad, becaufe there reigneth
pver the univerfe fuch an imnaitable Lord.

Were you to unhinge this great article of faith ; were yon either to.
fc^y with t!>efjo//dyM there \s k9 uo-'/, or to fuppofe w ith tlie fuperltiti-
ous, that the God who rules is variable and capricious j you would in-
deed lay the axe to the root of the tree, and cut down, with one blow,
the hope and fecurity ofmankiiul. For you would then leave no-
liiing in thewliole compafs of n.ature, but a round of cafual and tran-
(i..ory being ; no foundation of truft, no protedlion to the righteous,
no ftcdfad principle to uphold and to regulate the fucceuion of exift-
ence. Infteacl of that maginficent fpeclacle which the world now
exhibits, when beheld in connexion with the divine government, it
would then only prcfent to view a multitude of ihort-lived creatures
{pringing out of the dufl, wanderng on the face of the earth with-
put guide or protector, fti'uggling tor a few years againfl the torrent

of

lh^ Dh-'tnc Nature. lyj

of Lincertaiiuy and change ; and then finking into utter oblivion, and
vaniihing like viilons o\ the ni^ht. Myfttrioiis obfciiriry v\oiild
involve the beginning of thiiigs ; ^iilbrder wouid mark their progreis;
and the hlacknefs of darknefs would cover their final relult. Where-
as, when Faith enables us todifcover an iiniverfal Sovereign, whofa
power never fails, and \\tu)fe wifdorn and j'codnef's never thanpc,
the profped: clears up on evei-y tide. A ray from the great fource cf
lirrhtfeeais to illuminate the whole creation. Good men difcover a
parent and a friend. Tr.ey attain a torrrefsin every danger; are-
fuse amiciit all llorms, a (liveHiJig-place in all generations. 'I hey are
110 longer afraid of evil ticirgs. Their heart is fxcd, tvvj-ivg in lis
Lord.

Thctjgh thefe reafonings, from the unchanging tenour of divine
governtneijt, cannot but diu^rd much comfort to good men, their isi-
tisfaclion, however, becomes Hill more complete, when they confu'er
the explicit promifes \\hich are given them in the word of God. The
imniurability of the divii-.e purpefe afluresthem mofljjerfeftly of thofe
promiles being fulhlled in duetinie, hov.' adverfe fccver circumllanc-
es may at prefent aj)near to their accomplifliment. 7k2 Strength of
Jfrael is not a man that he fludd lie, nor tie Jin of man that he JJ-ould
f(pcr;t. Bath he f aid it, ami /hall he not do it P Hath hefpokct-, cndjhahl
he not vuike it good? JVlen iiave thecomnsand only of the prcfci.t tinie.
When that is ibflered topafs, changes may befal, either in their own
Ihte, or in the fituaiion of things around them, which fiiall defeat
their beft intentions in our behalf, and render all their promifes
fruitlefs. Htnce, even fetting afide the danger of human ificonftan-
ty, the confidence which we can repofe on any earthly protector is
extremely imperfeft. Man, in his higbeft glory, is but a reed float-
ing on the ftream of time, and forced to follow every Picw diredlion of
the current. But God is the rock rf ages. All time is equally in
his hands. Intervening accidei;ts cannot cmbarrafs him ; nor any
unforefeen obdacle retard the performance of his mofi; diftant pro-
niife. One day is ivith the Lord as a t/.-ouJand years, and a iloufavd
years are as one day. 7 Ijcre is no vicifT'tude of the human H ite in
which good tnen cannot t;ike fan<51uary with him as a ftu'e arid abid-
ing friends; the fafe condnftor of their pilgrimage here,, as well as'
the eternal red of ti;eir feu's hereafter. All their patrons may de-
lert them ; and all their friends may die : hut the Lord JiiU livts, who
is their rock ; and the innjl high Cod, who is titir Psdtemcr. \\t hath
prcuiiled that he will rM Lave themu-hcn they are c/dj mr forjake them

l6o On the Unchmgeabltnefs 0}

iuhen their jlrsngth fa'iktb; and that e^'en when iht'ir hearl fioall jaiv.t\
and their fir Jh fail, he vjitl be the Jlrengib of their heart, and their
p'yrtionfor -ever. His inmiutability is not only the ground of rrufl:
in him during their own abode on earth, but gives them the fatisfac-
tion of looking forward to the fame wife and good adininiftration' ns
continued to the end of time. When departing hence, and bidding
adieu to life, with all its changeful fcencs, they can with comfort and
peace leave their family, their friends, and their deareft concerns, in
the hands of that God who reigncth for ever; and whofe countenance
fhall alw„ys behold the upright viith the fame comp'acency. AJy days
are like a fhadow that declinctb, and 1 am withered like the grafs. Bui
thou, 0 Lord,fi->alt endure for ever ; and thy remembrance to all genera'
iions. The children of thyfervants /l7all continue ; and their Jeed J]?all be
tjlublijlyed before thee. *

Such are the benefits wh.ich good men ma^/ derive from meditation
6n God as without variuhlenefs orfl?Lidow ofturnwg. It infpires them with
feniiments of devout, huibble, and grateful adoration. It points out
to them the unvarying tenour of conduct which they ought to hold ;
checks their fis-klenefs and inconftancy; and, amidfl all dirtrefTes and
fears, aifurds them comfort. The innnutability of God is the furefl:
bafis on which their hopes can be built. It is indeed the pillar on
which the who'enniverfe reds. — On fuch ferious and folemn medita-
tions let our thoughts often dwell, in order to corredl that folly and
levity which are fo apt to take pofleiFion of the human heart.
And if our minds be overawed, and even deprefled, with fo high a
view of the divine nature, let them be relieved by the refiediion, that:
io this unchangeable God we are permitted to look up through a
gracious Mediator, who, though pofiefTed of diVins perfedlion, is
notunconfcious of human diitreis and frailty.

S' E R M O N

Pfalm cii. 1 2? i

( 26, )

SERMON XX.

On the Compassion of Christ.

Preached at the Celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Suppefo

. Hebrews, iv. i^.

}Ve have mi an high pnejl ivhich camiot be touched with the feeling rfour
infrmiiks ; but was in all Imnis tempted like as we are, yet with-
out/in.

WHEN we compare the counfels of Providence with theplanS
of men, we find a like diiFerence obtain, as in the works of
nature compared with thofe of art. The works of art may, at firft
view, appear the moft fmifhed and beautiful ; but when the eye is af-
filed to pry into their contexture, the nice(i workmanlliip is difcern-
ed to be rough and blemiflied. Whereas the works of nature gain
by the mod accurate examination; and ihofe which on a fu])erticiu^
furvey appear defedive or rude, tiie more iiitimately they areiiifpcct-
ed, difcover the more exadt conftrudion and confuinmate beauty. In
the fame manner the fyftems of worldly policy, though at firft they
feem plaufible and profound, foon betray in their progrefi. the nar-
row nefs of the hutn^.n uuderftanding ; while thofe dilpenfations of
Providence, which ap|)eared to furuilh objections either againit Clie
goodiiels or the wildoin of Heaven, have, upon a more extei,live
view of their cor.fequenccs, frequently ailurded ilie mtil lhikii)g
proofs of both.

C'jd manijtj:e(l in the fiej}^ was to the jezvs a Jlnrr.lV.rg.block, ard ti
the Greeks foolijhntfs. It toutradicled every prepoflelfion which their
confined idea-s of religion and philolopliy led then) to entertain, if
ii fupcriour Being was to interpofe for the reiloration of a deger.erate
world, they concluded that he would certainly appear in celeikial w\ii
jefty. But the thjughts of Cod are mt as the thoughts of men. '1 lie di-
divine wifdom faw it to be fit that the Saviour cf mnukirid flionid K'
«// things he madt like unto thofe whom lie cair.e to fave. By living a*

262 Cn the CompaJJion of Chr'ifi.

a man among men, he difpenfed infcrudion in the moft winning man*
ner. He added to inllrudion the grace and tlie forceof hisown example.
He accommodated th.u example 10 thfe mofl trying and difficult fitu^
ations of human life ; and, by fuftering a painful death, he both taught
iTien how to fufFer and die; and in that nature which had offended,
he cfl'er^ed a folemn expiation to God for human auilt.

Befides theje ends, lb worthy of God, which were accomplilhed
by the incarnation of Chrift, atlcther, of high importance, is fug-
gefted in the text. PTuman life is to good men, as well as to others,
a ilate of luiFering and diftrefs. To fupply them with proper con-
iolation and encouragement during ftich a ilate, was one great pur-
pufe of the undertaking of Chrift. With this view he aflumed the
biKce of their high priell, or mediator with God ; and the encourage-
ment which this office aifords them, will be proportioned to their af-
fured belief, firft of his power, and next of his compaifion. His
power is fet forth in the verfe preceding the text, and the proper
argument ii founded upon i.t. Seuhg that we have a great highpiiefl
who is pajfccl into the heavens, J ejus the Son of Cod, let us hold fafi our
/"'°##^"- ^^'^^ though it be encouraging to know that our high
priell: is the Son of Gcd, and that he is puffed iiiio the heavens, yet
thefe fac^s alone are not fufficient to render him the full objed of oar
confidence. For, as the apoflle afterwards obferves, it belongs to
the charader of a high prieft to betaken from amovg men, that he may
have comppffion on the ignorant^ and them that are out of the way, fee-
ing that he hinfelf is compaffed with infrmity. In order then to (^uis-
fy us of our high prieft's pofieiUng alfo the qualifications of mercy and
compaifion, we are told that he is touched with the fee lirg of our Infr.
rnities, arid was in ail points tempted like as we are. Ihe force of this
confideration I purpofe now to illuftrate. I ftall firft exphiin the facts
wliich are liated in the text, and then fhow how from ihcfe our Sa-
viour's compaifion is to be inferred, ar.d in what manner it ma}^ be
accommodated to the confolation aiid hope of good men amidft vari-
ous exio-encies of life.

The afTertion in the text of Chrlil's being touched with the feeling
of our infrmities, plainly implies th^t he had full experience both of
t'ne external difircffes, and of the internal forrov.s of human nature.
Afluming a body fiich as ours, he fubjec^ed himfelf to all the natural
confequences of corporeal frailty. He did not chufe for himfelf an
fiX'j and opulent condition, in order lo glide throug^h the world with

the

,0n the Conipnfpon rf Chr'ijl. 263

the leafl moleftation. He did not fuit his niiirion to the upper ranks
of mankind chiefly, by afTimiliiting liis ftate to theirs : but, born in
tueannefs, and bred up to labour, he fubniitted to the inconvenicncies
of that poor and loillbnie hfe which falls to the fliare of the inoll nu-
merous part of the human race. Whatever is fevere in the difrcgard
of relations or the ingratitude of friends, in t!ie fcorn of the proud
or the infults of the mean, in the virulence of reproach or the fharp-
nefs of pain, was undergone by Chrill. Thougli his hfe was fl;orr,
he familiarized himfelf in it with a wide compafs of human woe; and
there is almotl nodiftrefsful fituation to which we can be reduced, but
what he has experienced before us. There is not the lecifl; reafon iq
imao-ine that the eminence of his nature raifed him above the fenfa-
tions of trouble and grief. Had this been the cafe, he would have
been a fufFerer in appearance only, not in reality ; there would have
been no merit in his patience, or in the reGgnation wiiich he exprefj^
ed. On the coijtrary, it appears, from many circuniluiiKCS, that
the fenubihty of his nature was tender and cxquifiie. He affected
none of that hard indifference in which feme ancient philolbphers
vainly gloried. He felt as a man, and he fympathizcd wiih the feel-
ino"s of others. On different occafjons we are informed that he was
troubled in jyirit, i\rM he groaitcd, and that /'d^ u'.-j?/. 'i'he rehition of
his agony in the garden of GeLJifemane exhibits a ftriking piciure of
the fenfacions of innocent nature oppreffed with angniji;. It dlfco-
vers all the conflicl between the dread of fuffering on the one hand*
and the fenfe of duty on the other: the man Ilru<MTlinfr for a svhile
with htjman weaknefs, r^nd in the end recolleflcd in virtue, aid
rifing luperiour to the objects of difii;ay v\hich were then in hi?
view. Father! if It be pojfhk, let this cup p'ifs from we. Nd};trthdejs^
not as I will, but af thou wilt. Thy vjHI be done. Thus v\as our Sa-
viour touched with the feeling of our infiiiyiilits. He was a vuat of for.
rows and acquainted with grief .

It is added in the text, that he was in all points tempted like as vec
are. To be tempted is, in the language of Scripture, toundergo fucjj
trials of virtue as are accompanied with d.Hituhy and ccnfiici. I'hough
our Lord was nothable to any temptations from depravity of nature,
yet he was perpetually cxpofed to fuch as arife from fituations the
niofl adverfe to virtue. His whole life was in this refpcdi a ccurfe of
temptation ; that is, a fevere trial of his conftancy by every d:ifou.
ran-einent. He fuiFereJ reueated provocations both from friends and
f(jes. Ills endeavours to do good were requited wiih the mod obfti-

•&64 Ott the Comp/ifpon of Chr'iJ}.

i;ste and perverfe oppofition. Sometimes by the felicitations of igv
norant multicLides he was tempted to accept the proffers of worldly
grearnefs. Oftener, by the infults of nuiltitudes, more blind and
brucal, he was tempted to defert an office which expofed him to fo
Rinch mifery. Together with tiie world, the powers of darknefs
a'io combined their efTorrs againfl h":m. we are informed that he
was led into tht unhiernejs, and, amidfl the horrors of a wild and
dreary folitiide, was tempted of the devil. The great adverfjry of
n)anl<ind fcems to have been permitted to exert unufual proofs of
his pouer and malice, on purpofe that tlie trial of oyr Saviour's
fonltancy might be more complete, and his victory over him more il-
luflrious and djlliijouifhed.

From all thefe circumifances, the conclufion is obvious, that our
Lord knows, from perfonal experience, all the difcouragements and
temptations which virtue can futier. Tiiough he participated not of
the conu nion, yet he felt the weaknefs of human nature. He felt
the itrengt;i of pdifion. lie is no ibanger to the difturbance and com.
motion, which f ither t!ie attacks of the world, or the powers of dark-
peis, are able to raii'e within the breait of man. One remarkable dif-
ference, indeed, takes pLice between our temptations and thofe of
Ciinic. 'i liough he was tempted like as ive are, yet he was xv'ithoiit Jin.
1 ht)ugh the conflicl: was tiie fatne, the ifTue was different. We are
often foiled ; i^e. always overcame. But his difconformity to us in
this relpect, is far from weakening the ftrength of our prefent argu-
ment, F< r bn coi-.trac^s aiid hardens the iicart. Every degree of
guilt, incurred by yielding to temptation, tends to debafe the mind,
and to v\e.iken the generous and benevolent principles of human na-
ture. If from our Lord's being tewpted like as lue are, we have any
ground to expecf his fympathy, from his being tempted, yet without fi?i,
•we are entuled to hope that his fympathy, unallayed and pcrfed,
will operate wuh more complete energy.

Fiif)M this view of the fads which are (fated in the text, I pro-
peed to ihov ho .v ju.'tly we may infer our Saviour's compaflion, and in
what manner it is to be accommodated to the confolation of good men
^imdif various exigencies of life.

it \vi^ been tiie utiiverfal opinion of mankind, that perfonal expe.
yience of inifcrrii.g humanizes the heart. In the fchool of affliction,
fumpaiiion is always fnppofed to be moft thoroughly learned; and
}^ei)ce^ in the laws of Moll-s, when the Ifraelices are commanded not

to

On the CoivpaJlJfion of Chrijf. 265

to opprefs the ftranger, this reafon is given, " for 5'e know the heart
'* of a ftranger, feeing ye were (Irangers yourfelves in the land of
" Egypt.* The diftrefled, accordingly, fly for conlolation to thofe
who have been their conipanions in woe. They dedine the profper-
ous, and look up to them with a fufpicious eye. They condder them
as ignorant of their feelings, and therefore regardlefs of their com-
plaints. Amidft the manifold forrows of life, then, how foothingis
the thought that our great IntercelTor with God was afellow-fuffcrer
with ourfelves, while he palfed through this valley of tears.

But was it neccflary for Chrift, it may be faid, to afiume our nature
in order to acquire the knowledge of its infirmity and diHrcfs ? As a
divine perfon, was he not perfedly acquainted with our frame before
hedefcended to the earth? Did heftand in need of being proirptcd to
companion by the experience of our forrows? Could his experimen-
tal knowledge of human weaknefs increafe the benevolence of a
nature which before w^s perfect? — No: he fnhmitted to be touched
•with the feeling rf our Infirmities, and to be iempted like as we are ;
not in order to become acquainted with our nature, but to fatisfy
us that he knew it perfectly ; not in order to acquire any new degree
of goodnefs, but to give us the firmer confidence in the goodnefs
which he poffefled, and to convey the fenfeof it to our hearts with
greater force and effed]:.

Diftruft is a weaknefs peculiarly incident to the miferable. They
are apt to rejed: hope, to indulge fear, and to tinge, with the dark
colour of their own minds, every objeft which is offered for their
encouragement. The reprefentations given us of the Deity in Scrip*
lure, afford undoubtedly much ground for trufl: in his goodnefs. But
the perfcdion of an Almighty Being, whodwelleth in the fecret place
of eternity, ivbomno man hath fc en or can fee, is overwhelming to a
timid apprehenfion. The goodnefs which it pron)ifes is a new and
unknown form of goodnefs. Whatever proceeds from a nature fo
far fuperiour to our own, is beheld with a degree of awe, which
is ready to overpower hope. Upon this account, under the Old
Tefiainei^t difpcnfation. the Supreme Being is often defcribcd with
the attributes of a man, in order to give a fliade and foftening to
his greainefs, and to accommodate his goodnefs more to cur ca?
pacity. The relentings of a friend, the pity of a parent, and the
fighs of a mourner, are afcrilacd to the Almighty. But we eafiiy
perceive fuch attributes to be no more than figures and alluiions. 1 he

cuufur(
* E>i'jd. xxii. 9.

1^^ Oh the Compafflon of Chrljf.

comfort whi^h they afford is not definite nor precife. They leave
the mind under an anxious uncertainty, left it err in its interpretation
of thofe allegories of mercy. In the per Ton of Jefus Chrift the
objefl of our truft is brought nearer to ourfelves ; and of conrfe a-
clapted more eftetftually to our encouragement. Thofe well-known
tender afFeftions, which are only figuratively afcribed to the Divini--
ty, are in our great Mediator thoroughly realized. His goodnefs
is the goodnefs of human nature exalted and rendered perfe6V. It
is that fpecies of goodnefs with which we are beft acquainted, com-
paflion to the unhappy ; and compaffion cultivated by. that difcipline
which we know to be the mod powerful, the experience of for rows. ■
For fuch reafons as thefe, ''becaufc the children are partakers of'
^'flefliand blood, Chrift him felf like wife took part of the fame. In
*'all thinsis it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he
*' might be a merciful" as well as a " faithful high prieft," When
we confider his aiTumption of our nature in this light, what a mild
jind amiable afpeft does it give to the government of heaven ! What
attentive folicitude of goodnefs is fliewn in carrying on the difpenfa^
tion of our redemption upon a plan fo perfeftly calculated to banifh
all diftruft, and to revive the moft timid and dejeded heart ! How
naturally does that inference follow which the Apoftle makes in tha
verfeimaiediately fucceeding the text; "let us therefore comebold-
^'ly to the tlu'one of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace
*' to help in time of need !" More particularly, in confequence of the
doflrine which I have illuftrated, we are taijghc to hope,

I. That under all our infirmities and errors, regard will be had
to human imperfeclion; that a merciful diftiniSion will be made be-
tween what is weak and what is wilfully criminal in our condu<5}: j
jind that fuch meafures of obedience only will be exaclcd as are pro-
portioned to our circumftances and powers. What can more encou-
rage our religious fervices, than to be aflured that the God whom we
\vorfliip, ''knows our frame, and remembers we are duft;" and
that the Mediator, through whom we wor/hip him, " is touched
** with the feeling of our infirmities?" The moft virtuous are the
moft apt to be dejefted with the fen fe of their frailty. While vain
and fuperficial men are eafily (lattered with favourable views of them-
felves, and fond hopes of divine acceptance, the flightcft apprehen*
fion of guilt isready to alarm the humble and delicate mind; juft as
pa ccarfc bodies ani'up-eflion is not eafily made, while thofe of finer

cuntcKture

On the Compafpon of Chr'tJ}. 267

contexture are foon hurt ; 'and as en an cxqnifite polifl) the leaflfpeck
is vifible. But though reliu;ion promotes great {enfibility to all feel-
ings of a moral nature, yet it gives no countenance to cxcefllve anJ
fuperilitious fears. That humility which checks prefuniption, and
that jealoufy which inlpires vigilance, are favourable to piety ; while
thofe fufpicions v.'hich lead to defpondency are injurious to God, liurt-
ful to ourfelves, and repugnant to that whole fyllem of mercy v. hich
1 have been iliuftrating.

You complain, that when you engage in the folemn exercifcs of
devotion, your fpirits are deprefled by a load of cares and forrows ;
rhat in your thoughts there is no coinpofure, and in your afFec'tions
no elevation ; that after your utmofl eflciys, you are inctipable of fix-
ing your attention (teadily on God, or of fending up your prayers
to him with becoming warmth and fulnefs of heart. This debility
and wandering of mind you are apt to impute to fome uncornrnoii
degree of guilt. You confider it as the fymptom of incurable hard-
nefs of heart, and as a melancholy proof of vour being abandoned
by God. — Such fears as thefe in a great ineafure refute themftrlves^
If you vv'ere really obdurate, yo\^ would be infenfiblc of guilt. Your'
complaints of hardnefs of heart are an evidence of your heart being
at--that moment contrite and a(aually relenting. — Are there any d'^r^
cumftances of inward difcompofure and perplexity of which He is
unconfcious, who at a critical period of his life was *' heavy and fore
" amazed ;"* who was obliged to complain that his foul was " trou-
" bled within him ;" and to acknowledge, that thoiigh " the fpirit was
*' willing, yet the flefii was weak?" To a fuperiour nature, untouthej
with human frailty, you might in fuch fituations look up with fome
degree of terrour. But Hevv'ho remembers the flruggles of his o\^■ll
foul, will nor, furely, judge yours like a hard and unfeeling matter.
Acquainted Viith the inmoil recclTes of human nature, he perceives
the (incerity of your intentions ; he fees the combat you maintain}
heknov.'s liow much of your prefent confufion and diforder is to bo
imputed, not to your inclination and will, but to an infirm, an ageJ
or difeal'cd body, or to a v/eak and wounded fpirit ; and therefore
will be fiir from rejecting your attempts fo ferve him, on account of
the infirmities which you lament. He hears the voice of ihofc i'ecrec
afpirations which you are unable to exprefs in words, or to form in-
to prayer. Every penitential tear which your contrition (heds, pleads
yonr caufe more powerfully with hira, than all the arguments wit'i
which you could fill your mouth. J'I«

* Mark, \v. y^.

268 On the Compajpon of Chrijt.

II. From our Saviour's experience of human mifery, we may
juftly hope that he v\iil lb compaffionately regard cur dillrelTccl eftate,
as to prevent us from being loaded with unnecefTary troubles. He
will not wantonly add affliction to the afflifted ; nor willingly crufh what
be fees to be already broken. In the courfe of that high adminiltra-
tion which he now exerciles, be may indeed judge certain intermix-
tures of adverfiiy to be proper for our iinprovcuient. Thefe are tri-
als of virtue through which all, without exception, mufi: pafs. Rug-
ged was the road by which our diviie ^-cdiator hinilelf went be-
for^ us to glory; and by becoming our conpanion in diftrefs, he
meant to reconcile us to our lot. Me ennobled adverlity, by fharing
it with us. He raifed poverty from contempt, hy affuniing it for his
own condition. The feverity of his trials tends to lighten ours.
When the general of an army lies on the fame hard ground, drinks
of the fame cold {tream, carries the fame weight of armour with the
loweft centinel, can any of his foldiers repine at w hat they endure ?

Whatever afflidions our Lord may judge to be necefTary for us,
of this we may reft sffured, tliat he will deal them ft rib, ret with
harlli and imperious authority, but with the tendernefs of one, wha
knov\s from experience how deeply the human heart is wounded by
every ftroke of tdverfity. He will tiot lay more upon us than he lees
we are able to bear. " Though he caufe grief, yet will he have
*' compaiiion according to the multitude of his tender mercies. He
*' w iill {by his rough wind in the day of the eall wind ;"* For it is
his flate, but not his nature, which is now changed. Notwithftand-
ino his hi«;h exaltation, he ftill retains the compaflionate ientiments
of " the man of forrows." Still, we are allured by an infpired wri-
ter, '* he is not afiiamed to call us his brethren. "f And with the
heart of a brother he regards thofe few and troubled days, fuch as
his own once were, which good men are doomed to pafs in this evil
world.

From his compafiion, indeed, we are not to expefl that fond in.
dulgence or unfeafonable relief by which the weak pity of men fre-
quently ii jures its objeds. It is to the material interells, Uiore than
to the prtfent cafe, of good men, that he attends. When under
the impatience of forrow we exclaim, "Hath he forgotten to be gra-
" cious? hath he in anger Ihut up his tender mercies?" we recoiled:
not in wlioie hajids we are. His compafiion is not diminifhcd when
ks operations are molt concealed. It continues equally lo flowj,
Shough the channels by which it is conduced towards us lie loo deep
* Ifaiiih^ xxvii, x. -}■ Hcb, ii. ii* ^ur

On the Compafflm of Chiij!, 26^

for our obfervation. Amidft our prefent ignorance of what is good
or ill for us in this life, it is fufficient for us to know, that the imme-
diate adminiftration of univerfal government is placed in the hands of
the moll attentive and compalTionate friend of mankind. How great-
ly does this confideratlon alleviate the burden of human woe ! How
happily does it conned: with the awful difpenfaiions of religion the
mildeft ideas of tendernefs and humanity !

III. The text leads us to hope, that amidft all the infirmities of
our ftate, both under the temptations and under the diflrefibs of life,
oui- blefled Lord will afford us a proper meafure of alliltance and fup-
port. In that he hath fuffered being tempted, he /f able tofuccour them
•who either fufFer, or are tempted -* that is, he is perfectly qualified
for difcharging this beneficent office ; he knows exactly vt'here the
wound bleeds, where the burden prefTes, what relief will prove niofi
feafonable, and how it can be moft fuccefsfully applied, 'ihe man-
ner in which it is conveyed by him to the heart we may be at a lofs
to explain; but no argument can be thence drawn againfl the crcdi-
bility of the facl. The operations which the power of God carries
on in the natural world, are no lefs niyflerious than thofe which we
are taught to believe that his fpirit performs hi the moral world.
If we can give no account of what is every day before our eyes, how
a feed becomes a tree, or how the child i-ifes into a man, is it any
wonder that we fliould be unable to explain how virtue is fupported,
and ccnffancy flrengthened, by God within the heart? If men by
their counfels and fuggeftions can influence the minds of one another*
mufl not divine fuggeffion and counfel produce a much greater elfcdt i
Surely, the Father of Spirits muft, by a thoufand ways, liave ac-
cefs to the fpirits which he has made, foes to give them what deter-
mination, or impart to them what affiftance he thinks proper, with-
out injuring their fran)e, or difturbing their rational powers.

Accordingly, whenever any notions of religion have taken place
among mankind, this belief has in fome meaibre prevailed, that, to'
the virtuous under diftrefs, aid was communicated from above. This
fentiment is fo congruous to our natural impreilions of the di\ine
benignity, that both among poets and philolophers of ancient times
it was a favourite idea, and often occurs in their writings. But
what among them was no more than loofe conjtcfure (-r fceblf

L 1 iK'P'?/

oyo On the Compajfon of ChiJI.

iiope, has leceived full coufirmation from thegofpel of CinilL Not
only is the promife of divine afliftance exprefsly given to Chriftians,
but their faith in that promife is llrengthened by au argument which
rtiuft carry convidion to every heart. If Chrifl had full experience
of the intufficiency of human nature to overcome the difficulties where-
with ic is now furrounded, will he withhold from his followers that grace
without which he fees they mufl perilh in the evil day ? If in the fea-
fon of his temptation and diflrefs, an angel was fent from heaven
to Jlrengthen /;im,f fliiall no celefiial meflenger be employed by him on
the like kind errand to thofe whom heftyleshis brethren? Can we be-
lieve that he who once hre our griefs cim^ carried our for roivswW], horn
that height of glory to which he is now exdtetJ, look down upon us here
contending with the dorm of adverfity, labouring to follow his ftfps
through the deep and difficult paths of virtue, cxpofed on every fide
to arrows aimed againft us by the powers of darknefs ; and that, fee-
ing our diltrefs and hearing our fupplications, he will remain an un-
concerned fpeclator, without vouchfafing us either aflllbnce ro fup-
nort our frailty, or prote6^ion to fcreen us amidrt furrounding dan-
gers? Where were then the benevolence of a divine Nature? Where,
the compaifion of that Mediator who was trained to mercy in the
fchoo! of forrow ? Far from us be fuch ungrateful ftifpicions of ihs
generous friend of human kind ! — Let us exert ourfelves as we can,
and we fliall be adifled. Let us pray, and we fhall be heard ; for
there is one to pre fen t our prayers, whom the Father keareth always.
Thefe, will he fay, are my followers on earth, palling through that
thorny path of temptation and forrow which I once trode. Now I
am no jnore in the world: but thefe are in the world. Holy Father .'
thine they were, and thougavcfi them me. Keep them through thine oiv-4
name. Sanctify them through thy truth. Ketp them from the evil one;
that they may be where I a-m, and may beheld the glory which thou hcfi
filijen 7ne.*

Such is thecomfort v;liich arifes to us from oin* Saviour's participa.
rion of the infirmities of human nature ; and thus it may be applied
to various fituations of anxiety and didrefs.

WilEN we review what has been faid, it is nrccflary tliat, in the
i'^-ll place, I guard you againlt a certain milimprovemenr which may
fee made of tills doclrine. The amiable view \Uiich it gives of our

I..ord\
-\. hike, xxii. 43. "■■■ Joh, x^■ii.

On the CompaJJion of Ch'tfi. 271

Lord's clemency may flalterforne men with unwarrantalileliopcs, ami
lead them to imagine, thai: in his experience of human wcaknefs an
apology is to be found tor every crime. Pcrfons of this character
rnuft be taught, that his companion differs widely from that nndillin-
guilhing and capricious indulgence which is fometirnes found aniono-
men. It is the compafiion of an impartial mind, enlialuened by v, il-
dom, and guided by jaftice, extending to the frailties of the lincer-e,
but not to the fins of the prefumptuous, and lead of all to the crimes
of thofe who encourage themfelves in evil from the hope that they"
fliall meet with compallicn.

A courfe of deliberate guilt admits cf no apology from the weak-
nefs of human nature. For notwithflanding all the iniirmities inci-
dent to it, no man is under a neceflity of being wicked. So fiir is our
Saviour's experience of our nature from affording any ground of hope
to prefumptuous offenders, that it ought to fill them with terrour.
For it ihevvs them how thorougkly qualilied he is to difcriminate ac-
curately the characters of men, and to mark the boundaries between
frailty and perverfenefs. He who from his own feelings well knows
all the woikings of th.e human heart clearly difcerns how diiferent
their temper is from what was once his own. He perceives that vice,
not virtue, is their choice ; and that, inftead of refiiling tempta-
tion, they refill; confcience. He fees that infirmity aifords them no
excufe ; and that the real caufe of their acting a criminal part, is not
becaufethey cannot do better, but, in truth, becaufe diey w'lW not.
Having forfeited every title to compallion, they are left in the hands
of juftice ; and according as they have Jovjn, thc-y muft expect to reop.

But, in the next place, to fuch as are fincere and upriglit, the
do6frine which I have illudrated affords hio;h tncourapcment, and
powerfully recommends the Ghriltian Reiigion. It places that reli-
gion in its proper point of view, as a medicinal plan, intendt/J botii
tor the recovery of mankind from guilt, and for their confoi Jtion
under trouble. The iaio was given by Mofes ; but grace trnd truth Ci/we
by Jefhs Chr'ijl. The law was a difpenfation of mere author): v.
The Gofpel is a difpenfation, not of authority only, but Of relief.
If it difcovers new duties, and inipcfes new obligations, it opens .ji; :
fources of comfort which were before unknown to the world.

A Mediator between GcJ and his creatures was an object after
which men in all natiues^ and under all fcnns of religion, iiad io.;g

and

272 On the Compajfion of Chnft.

and anxioufly foughr. The follies of fuperftitien have ferved to dif-
clofe to us, in this inftance, the fentiments of nature. The whole
religion of Paganifm wasafyfteinof mediation and interceflion. De-
piefled by a confcious fenfe of guilt, nature fhrunk at the thought
of adventuring on a direct approach to the Sovereign of the univerfe ;
and laboured to find out fome aufpicious introduftor to that awful
prefence. With blind and trembling eagernefs, the nations fled to
iubordinate deities, to tutelar gods, and to departed fpirits, as their
patrons and advocates above. Them they ftudied to footh with fuch
coftly gifts, fuch pompous rites, or fuch humble fijpplications, as
they thought might incline them to favour their caufe, and to fupport
their intereft with the Supreme Divinity. While mankind were be-
wildered in this darknefs, the Gofpel not only revealed the true
Mediator, who in this view may be juftly called the defire of all na-
tions, but placed his character and office in a light moft admirably fit-
ted, as has been fliewn in this Difcourfe, to fupport the intereft of
virtue in tiie world ; and to encourage the humble, without flattering
theprefumptuous. What plan of religion could be more fuited to the
circuniftances of man, or more vt'orthy of the goodnefs of his Crea-
tor ? What more animating to the pious worfhipper, in performing
tnofe folemn acis of devotion to which we are called by the fervice
of this day f

T CANNOT conclude without taking notice how remarkably this
difpenfation of religion is calculated to promote a fpirit of humanity
and compafTion among men, by thofe very means which it employs for
inf[oiring devotion towards God. We are now drawing nigh to the
Supreme Being through a Mediator, for whofe compaflion we pray
on account of the experience which he has had of our frailty. We
trull, that having been acquainted with diftrefs, he will not defplfe
nor abhor the affil^ion of the affli^ed. The argument by which we
plead for his compallion, concludes flillmore flrongly for mutual cha-
rity, and fympathy with one another. He who, in the midfi of the
common fufferings of life, feels not for the diflrefTed ; he who relents
not at his neighbour's griefs, nor fcans his failings with the eye of a
brother, mult be fenfible that he excludes himfelf from the commi-
fcration of Chrift. lie makes void the argument by which he pleads
for his mercy ; nay, heeftablifhes a precedent againft himfelf. Thus
the Chriftian religion approves itfelf as \\orrhy of God^ by connect-

On the Compaffion ofChriJ}, 273

ing devotion in ftri£l union with charity. As in its precepts the love
of God and the love of man are joined, foinitsinOkutions the exer-
cife of both is called forth ; and to worlhip God through the medi-
ation of a companionate High Prieft, necefl'arily fuppofes in the wor-
fhippersa fpiritof compaffion towards their own brethren.

SERMON

( 274 )

SERMON XXL

On the Love of Praise.

> — 'K-»'^-^-^-^"-r5- — -
John, xii. 43.

For they loved the praJfe of men more than the pra'ife of God.

'^|~^HE ftateof inan on earth is manifeftly defigned for the trial of
■*- his virtue. Temptations everywhere occur; and perpetual vigi-
lance and attention are required. There is no paffion, or principle of
aftion in his nature, which may not, if left to itfelf, betray him into
fome criminal excels. Corruption gains entrance, not only by thofe
pafTions which are apparently of dangerous tendency, fuch as co-
vetoufnefs and love of pleafure; but by means of thofe alfo which
are feemingly the moll fair and innocent, fuch as the defire of eileem
and praife. Of this the text fuggefts a remarkable inftance. When
our Lord appeared in the land o\ Judca, the purity of his dodjrine,
and the evidence of his n)iracles, procured him a confiderable num^
bar of followers, chiefly among the lower claffes of men. But the
Pharifces, who were the leading and falliionable fecT:, galled with
the freedom of his reproofs, decried him as an impoftor. Hence it came
to pafs, that ihoughybwf of the rulers believed in him, yet, beccmfe of
the Pharifees, they did not corfefs him. Rulers, perfons who, by their
rank and education, ought to have been fiiperiour to any popular
prejudice, were fo far overawed by the opinions of others, as to flifle
their conviction, to diflemble their faith, and to join with the prevail-
iiig party in condemning one whom in tiieir hearts they revered : for
%vhich this rcafon is given, that they loved the praife of men inore than
the pratfe of Cod. Since, then, the love of praife can miflead men in-
to fuch culpable and difhonell: condud, let us, with fome attention,
examine the nature of this pafijon. Let us confider how far it is an
allowable principle of .-iclion ; v. hen it begins to be criminal ; and tip-
on what accounts v.c oug!)t to guard ngainfl its acquiring the entire
afccndant.

We

On the Love cf Fraife. ^-'-'

We are intended by Providence to be connected with one another
in fociety. Single unaffiried indivj.]u:ils ccuid make finall advances
towards any valuable improvement. By means of fotiety our wants
are lupplied^and our lives rendered comfortable ; our capacities are en-
larged, and our virtuous affedions called {orth into proper exercife. In
order to confirm our mutual connecT:ion, it was neceffary that fome at-
trafting power, which had the effeft of drawing men together, and
ftrengthening the focial ties, fliould pervade the human lyllem. No-
thing could more happily fulfil this purpofe, than our being fo formed
as to defire ihe efteem, and to delight in the good opinion, of each o
ther. Had fuch a propenfity been wanting, and felfiWi principles left to
occupy its place, fociety muft have proved an unharmonious and difcord-
ant (late. Inftead of mutual attraiTtion, a repulfive power would have
prevailed. Among men who had no regard to the approbation of one
another, all intercourfe would have been jarring and ofTenfive. For
the wifeft ends, therefore, the defire of praife was made an original
and powerful principle in the human breaft.

To a variety of good purpofes it is fubfervient, and on many occaw
fl'ons co-operateis with the principle of virtue. It awakens us from
floth, invigorates activity, and ftimulates our efforts to eiccel. It has
given rife to moft of the fplendid, and to many of the ufeful enter-
prifes of men. It has animated the pati'iot, and fired the hero.
Magnanimity, generofity, and fortitude are what all mankind admire.
Hence fuch as were a(5iuated by the defire of extenfive fame, have
been prompted to deeds which either participated of the fpirit, or, at
leafl, carried the appearance of diftinguinved virtue. The defire of
praife is generally conneded with all the finer fenfibilities of human na-
ture. It affords a ground on which exhortation, council, and re-
proof can work a proper effect. Whereas to be entirely deflitute of
this paflion, betokens an ignoble mind, on which no nioral impref-
ftoh is eafily made. Where there is no defire of praife, there will
be alfo no lenfe of reproach ; and if that be cxtinguilhed, one of the
principal guards of virtue is removed, and the path opened to many
opprobrious purfults. He whofe countenance never glowed with
Ihavnc, and whofe heart never beat at the found of praife, is not ^t{'
tined for any honourable diitindion ; is liLeiy to grovel in the fordid
quefl: of gain, or tofluniber life away in the indolence of felfifli plea-
fures.

Abftracting from the feniiments which are connefted with the lov«
©f praife as a principle of action, the eftcen^ of our fellow-creatures is an

objecT:

27^ On the Love of Pra'tje.

obje£l which, on account of the advantages it brings, may be lav fut-
ly purfued. It is neceflary to our Juccefsin every fair and honeft un-
dertaking. Not only our private intereft, but our public ufefulnefs,
depends in a great meafure upon it. Tiie fphere of our influence is
contracted or enlarged in proportion to the degree in which we en-
joy the good opinion of the public. Men liflen with an unwilling ear
to one whom they do not honour; while a refpefted character adds
weight to example, and authority to council. To defire the efteeni
of others for the fake of its eifefts, is not only allowable, but in -^a-
ny cafes is our duty ; and to be totally indifferent to praife or cenfure,
is fo far from being a virtue, that it is a real defeft in charader.

But while the love of praife is admitted to be a natural, and, m
fo many relpefts, an ufeful principle of afcion, we are to obferve,
^hat it is entitled to no more than our fecondary regard. It has its
boundary fet ; by tranfgrefiing which, it is at once transformed from
an innocent into a moft dangerous paihon. More facred and vene-
rable principles claim the chief direction of human conduft. All the
good effefts which we have afcribed to the defire of praife, are
produced by it when remaining in a fubordinate ftation. But when
pafhng its natural line, it becomes the ruling fpring of conduct;
when the regard which we pay to the opinions of men, encroaches
6n that reverence which we owe to the voice of confcience and the
fenfe ot duty ; the love of praife having then gone out of its proper
place, inftcad of improving, corrupts ; and inftead of elevating,
debafes our nature. The proportion which this padion holds to o-
ther principles 6f adion is what renders it either innocent or crinji-
nal. The crime with which the Jevvilh rulers are charged in the
text, was not that they loved the praile of men -, but that they lov-
ed it more than the praife of Cod.

Even in cafes where there is no direfl competition between our
duty and our fancied honour, between the praife of men and the
praife of God, the paflion for applailfe niay become criminal by oc-
cupying the place of a better principle. When vain glory ufurps the
throne of virtue ; when oftentation produces actions which con-
fcience ought to have dictated ; fuch actions, however fpecious, have
no claim to raoral or religious praife. We know that good deeds,
done merely to hefeen of men, lofe their reward with God. If, on
Occafion of fome trying conjuncture, which makes us hefitate con-
cerning our line of condudl:, the firft queftion which occurs to u«

Cn the Love cf Prc:}fe. 277

i5e, not wliether an adion is right in itfclf, end fiuh .is n goctl n^nn
Ought to pcrfoni), but whetlier it is fuch as will lii-,d acceptance with
the world, and be favourable to our fame, the concluiion is too evi-
dent, that the defire of applaufe has obtained an undue afcendaijt.
What a. wife and good man onght to ftudy, is to preierve his mind
free from any fuch folicitude concerning praife, as may be in hazard
of overcoming his fenfe of duty. 1 he approbation of n^en he inr.y
wiOi to obtain, as far as is confiftent with the approbation of Gotl.
But when both cannot be enjoyed together, there ought to be nofuf-
penfe. He is to retire contented with the teflinioTiy of a good con-
fcience ; and to fliow, by the firmnefs of his behaviour, that, in the
caufe of truth and virtue, he is fuperiourto all opinion. — Let us i.ow
proceed to confider the arguments which fjiouicl ihpuort fuch a fpiirit,
and guard us againft the improper influence of prajie or cenl'ure in
the courfe of our duty.

In the firfl place, the praife of men is not an objecl- of fucli valuft
in itfelfas to be entitled to become the leading principle of conduci:.
We degrade our charaiSler when we allow it more than fubordinate
i-cgard. Like other worldly goods, it is apt to dazzle us with a falfe
lufcre; but if we would afcertain its true wofth, let us refledl both
on whom it is beftowed, and from whom it proceeds. Were the ap-
plaufe of the world always the reward of merit ; were it appropriar- '
ed to fuch alone as by real abilities, or by worthy acT;ions, are e-nti-
tlcd to rife above the crowd, we might juftly be flattered by poHcfs-
ing a rare and valuable diftinclion. But how far is this from bcing^
the cafe in faft? How often have the defpicable and the vile, by dcx-
teroufiy catching the favour of the multitude, foarcd upon the wings'
of popular applaufe, while the virtuous and the deferving have been'
either buried in obfcurity, or obliged to encounter the attacks of un-
juR- reproach? 'J he laurels which hunian praile confers, are wither-
ed and blafted by the unworthinefs of thofe who wear them. Let
the man who is vain of public favour be humbled by the rcficclion that,
in the midft of his I'uccefs, he is mingled with a crowd of impollcrs
and deceivers, of liypocrites and enthufuifls, of ignorant pretenders
and fuperficial reafoncrs, who. by various arts, have attained as high
a rank as hiraielf in temporary fame.

We may eafily be fatiified that apyjlaufe will be often fljared by the
I'jndeferving, if we allow onrfelves toconHder horn whom it proceeds,-
When it is the approbation of the wife only and the good which i"^
IS I ni purfuedj^

27S Cn the Love of Praife.

pnrfuefl, the love of praife may then be accounted to contain itfelf
within juit bounds, and to run in its proper channel. But the tefti-
mony of the difcerning few, njodefl: and unafTuniing as they common-
ly are, forms but a fmall part of the pubhc voice. It feldom amounts
to more than a whifper, which amidft the general clamour is drown-
ed. When the love of praife has taken polTeirion of the mind, it
confines not itfelf to an object fo limited. It grows into an appetite
for indifcriininate praife. And who are they that confer this praife?
A niixed multitude of men, who in their whole conduct are guided by
humour and caprice, far niore than by reafon ; who admire falfe
appearances, and purfue falfe gods; who enquire fupeificially, and
judge raflily; whofe fentiments are for the mofl part erroneous, al-
ways changeable, and often inconfirteur. Nor let any one imagine,
that by looking above the crowd, and courting the praife of thefafhi-
onable and the great, he makes fure of true honour. There are a
great vulgar, as well as a fmall. Rank often makes no difference in
the underftandings of men, or in their judicious diftribution of praife.
Luxury, pride, and vanity, have frequently as much influence in cor-
rupting the fentiments of the great, as ignorance, bigotry, and pre-
judice, have in mifleading the opinions of the crowd. — And is it
to fuch judges as thefe that you fnbmit the fupreme direction of your
conducl:? Do you floop to court their favour as your chief diflinc-
tion, when an object of fo much jufter and higher ambition is pre-
fented to yoiT in the praife of God? God is the only unerring Judge
of what is excellent. His approbation alone is the fubftance, all o-
ther praife is but the fliadow, of honour. The charader which yea
bear in his fight is your only real one. How contemptible does it ren-
der you, to be indifferent with refpecH: to this, and to be foHcitous a-
bout a name alone, a fictitious, imaginary character, which has no
exigence except in the opinions of a few weak and credulous men a-
round you ? They fee no farther than the outfide of things. They
can judge C;f you by actions only ; and not by the comprehenlive view
of all your actions, but by fuch merely as youhave had opportunity of
bringing forth to public notice. But the Sovereign of the world be-
holds you in every light in which you can be placed. The filent vir-
tues of a generoui purpofe and a pious heart attracts his notice equally
with the mofl- fplendid deeds. From him you niay reap the praife
of good actions v. hich you had no opportunity of performing. For he
lees them in their principle j he judges of you by your intentions ; he

knows

On the Love of Praije. ^70

knows what you have done. You may be in his eyes a hero or a
martyr, without undergoing the labours of the one, or the fufFcrings
of the other. His infpedion, therefore, opens a niuch wider field for
praife, than what the world can afford you ; and for praife, too, cer-
tainly far more illuftrious in the eye of reafon. Every real artid ftu-
dies to approve himfelf to fuch as are knowing in his art. To their
judgment he appeals. On their approbation, he refts his character,
and not on the praife of the unfKilled and rude. In the higheii art
of all, that of life and conduft, fhall the opinions of ignorant men
come into the molt diflant competition with his approbation who is

the fearcher of all hearts, and the ftandard of all perfeclior, ? I'he

teftimony of his praife is not indeed, as yet, openly bellowed. But
though the voice of the Almighty found not in your ears, yet by
confcience, his facred vicegerent, it is capable of being conveyed to
your heart. The fofteft whifper of divine approbation is fweeter to
the foul of a virtuous man, than the loudeft ihouts of that tumultu-
ary applaufe which proceeds from the world.

Confider, farther, how narrow and circumfcribed in its limits that
fame is which the vain-glorious man fo eagerly purfues. In order to
Hiew him this, I ihall not bid him refled that it is confined to a fmall
tiiftridl of the earth ; and- that when he looks a little beyond the re-
gion which he inhabits, he will find himfelf as much unknown as the
irioll obfcure perfon around him. I fiiall not defne him to confider,
ihat in the gulph of oblivion, where all human niemcrials are fwal-
lowed up, his name and fame mufl: foon be inevitably loft. He may
imagine that ample honours remain to gratify ambition, though his
reputation extend not over the whole globe, nor laft till the end of
time. But let him calmly refle<fl, that within the narrow boundarie'
of that country to which he belongs, and during that fmall portion
of time which his life fills up, his reputation, great as he may fancy it
to be, occupies no more than an incoufiderable corner. Let him think
what multitudes of thofe among whom he dwells are totally ignorant
of his name and chara(Sler ; how many imagine tliemfelves too im-
portant to regard him ; how many are too much occupied w ith their
own wants and purfuits to pay him the leaft attention ; and where
his reputation is in any degree fpread,how often it has been attacked,
and how many rivals are daily rifing to abate it : Having attended
to thefe circumflances, he will find fuflicient materials for humiliation

in the midll: of the highefc applaufe. From all thefe confulerations

k dearly appears^ that though, the efleem of our fellow-creatures be

pleafing

28o On the Lws of Praife.

pleafing, nnd the pnrfuit of ir, in a moderate degree, be fair aiiJ
lawful, yet that it affords no fuch objetfi: to defire, as entitles it to be
a ruling principle.

In the fecond place, an excefllve love of praife never fails to under-
mine the regard due to confcience, and to corrupt the heart. It
turns off the eye of the mind from the ends which it ought chiefly to
l;eep in view ; and fets up a falfe light for its guide. Its influence is
the more dangerous, as the colour which it afllnnes is often fair; and
its garb and appearance are nearly allied to that of virtue. The love
of glory, I before admitted, may give birth to aclions which are both
fplendid and ufeful. At a diftance they Itrike the eye with uncom-
mon brightnefs; but on a nearer and ftricler furvey, their luftre is
often tarniflied. They are found to want that lacred and venerable
jhguity which characlerifes true virtue. Little paflions and felfifli in-
terefts entered into the motives of thofe who performed them. They
\yere jealous of a competitor. They fought to humble a rival. They
fooked round for fpedators to admire them. AUismagnaninnty, ge?
nerofity, and courage, to public view. But the ignoble fource whence
jtliefe feeming virtues take their rife is hidden. VVithout, appears the
hero; within, is foijnd the man of duft and clay. Confult fuch a?
have been intimately connefted with the followers of renown ; and
fekioin or never will you find that they held them in the fame efteem
with thofe who viewed them from afar. 1 here is nothing, except
(iiiiplicity of intention, and purity of principle, that can fland the teft
pf near approach and ftrifl examination.

But fuppofing the virtue of vain-glorious men not to be always
falfe, it certainly cannot be depended upon as firm or fure. Conftan-
py and fleadinefs are to be looked for from him only vvhofe conduct;
is regulated by a fenfe of what is right ; whoje praife is not of men,
but of God ; whofe motive to difcharge his duty is always the fame.
Change, as much as you pleafe, the fuuation pf fuch a man ; let ap-
plaufe or let cenfure be his lot ; let the public voice which this day
has extolled him, to-morrow as loudly decry him ; on the tenour o»
his behaviour thefe changes produce no effeft. He moves jn a high-
cr fpiiere. As the fun in his orbit is not interrupted by tl^e mitts and
flornis of the atmofphcre below, fo, regardlefs of the ppinions of men,
through honour and difmicur, through good report and bad report, he pur-
fues the path which' confcience has marked out. Whereas the appa-
rent virtues of that man whofe eye is fixed on the world, are precarious
gild tempbriil'y . Supported only by circumilancef , occafions, and parti-
cular

On the Love rjf Pralfe. 28 1

cular regards, they fluctuate and fall with thefe. Excited by public ad-
miration, they difappear when it is withdrawn ; Hke ihofe exhalations
which, raifed by heat from the earth, glitter in the air with momentary
fplendour, and then fall back to the ground from whence they fpruug.
The intemperate love of praife not only weakens the true princi-
ples of probity, by fubftituting infcriour motives in their ftead, buc
frequenrly alfo impels men to actions which are direftly criminal. It
obliges them to follow the current of popular opi.iion whitherfoevcr
it may carry them ; and hence Jh'ip'^Jjreck is often made both of faith
and of a good cottfc'tence. According as circumftances lead them to
court the acclamations of the multitude, or to purfue the applaufe of
the great, vices of different kinds will flain their charafter. In one
fituation they will make hypocritical profeflions of religion. In anot
ther they will be afhamed of their Redeemer, and of his words. They
will be afraid to appear in their own form, or to utter their genuine
fentiments. Their whole chara6j:er will become fictitious, opinion!
will be alTumed, fpeech and behaviour modelled, and even the coun-
tenance formed, as prevailing tafle exad^s. From one who has ful|»
niitted to fuch profl:itution for the fake of praife, you can no longer ex-
pe6l fidelity or attachment on any trying cccafion. In private XXc, he
will be a timorous and treacherous friend. In public conduct, he will
be fupple and vcrfatile; ready todefert thecaufe which he had efpoufr
cd, and to veer with every fliifting wind of popular favour. In fine, all
becomes unfound and hollow in that heart, where, inltead of regard to the
divine approbation, there reigns the fovcreign defirc of pleafmg men.

In the third place, this paflrion,when it becomes predominant, nioft
commonly defeats its own end, and deprives men of ihe honour which
they are fo eager to gain. Without preferving liberty and indepemi-
ence, we can never command refpect. That fervilit}' of ipirit which
fubjecls us to the opinions of others, and renders us tributaries to the
world for the fake of applaufe, is what all mankind defpife. They look
up with reverence to one who, unawedby their cenfurcs, aifls accord-
ing to his own fenfe of things, and follows the free impulfe of an hc-
nourable mind. But him who hangs totally on tlieir judgment, they
confider as their vaffal. They even enjoy a malignant pleafure in hum-
bling his vanity, and withhokiing that praife which he is feen to court.
By artifice and fiiow he may Ihine for a time in the public eye ; but it is
only as long as he can fupport the belief of ading from principle. When
the inconfiftencies into which he falls deteclihis characlcr, hisreputa-

tion

2S2 Cn the Love of Pralfe.

tion p.uTcs away like the pageant of a day. No man ever obtained lad-
ing fame v/ho did not, on leveral occasions, contradi£i the prejudices
cf popular opinion.

There is no courfc of behaviour which will at all times pleafe all men.
That whitli pieafes more generally, and which only commands durable
praife, is relig.-jn and virtue. Sincere piety towards God, kind affec-
tion to men, and fidelity in the difcharge of all the duties of life ; a con-
fcicnce pure and undcfiled ; a heart firm to jullice and to truth, fupe-
riour to all terrours that would fhake, and infenfible of all pleafures
that would betray it ; unconquerable by the oppofition of the world,
and religned to God alone ; thefe are the qualities which render a
man truly refpeclable arid great. Such a charader may, in evil times,
incur unjuft reproach. But the clouds which envy or prejudice has
gathered around it will gradually difperfe ; and its brightnefs will come
forth, in the end, as the noon-day. As foon as it is thoroughly known,
it finds a witnefs in every brealL It forces approbation even from
the moft degenerate. The human heart is fo formed as to be at-
tuned, if we may ufe the expreffion, to its praife. In fad, it is this
firm and inflexible virtue, this determined regard to principle be-
yond all opinion, which has crowned the charaders of fuch as now
ftand higheft in the rolls of lading fame. The truly illuftrious are they
who did not court the praife of the world, but who performed the ac-
tions which deferved it. They were perhaps traduced, in their life time,
by thofe v^hom they oppofed. ButpoRerity has done them ample juf-
tice ; and they are the men whom the voice of ages now concurs in ce-
lebrating. The memorial of virtue is immortal; becaufe it if approved
cfCod and of men. When it is prefent, men take example at it ; and -iuheit
st is gon;, they dejire it. It weareth a crown, and triumpheth Jor ever i
leaving gotten the vldory ; ft riving for undefiled re-wards *-

In the fourth place, as an immoderate pafTion for human praife is
dangerous to virtue, and unfavourable to true honour, fo it is dcftruc-
tive of felf-enjnyment and inward peace. Regard to the praife of God
prefcribes a fimple and confiftent tenour of conduct, which in all fi-
tuations is the fame ; which engages us in no perplexities, and requires
i)o artful refinement. Walking i^prightly, lue ivalkfurely, becaufe we
tread an even and open path. But he who turns afide from the ftraight
road of duty in order to gain applaufe, involves himfelf in an intricate
labyrinth. He will be often embarrafied concerning the courfe which
lie ought to hold. liis mind will be always on the Itretch. He will

h&
* li^ifdom of Solomon, iv. i, 2.

On the Love of Praife, ±^

be obliged to liften with anxious attention to every whifper of the po-
pular voice. The demands of thofe niafters whom he has fubmittcd
to ferve, will prove frequently contradidory and inconfiftent. He hag
prepared a yoke for his neck which hemuftrefolve to bear, how uiuch
foever it may gall him.

The toils of virtue are honourable. The mir.d is fupported under
them by the confcioufnefs of afting a right and becoming part. But
the labours to which he is doomed who is enflaved to the defire of
praife, are aggravated by reflexion both on the uncertainty of tiie
recompence which he purfues, and on tlie debafement to which he
fubmits. Confcience will, from time to time, rcniind him of the im-
proper facrifices which he has made, and of the forfeiture which he
has incurred, of the praife of God for tlie fake of praife from men.
Suppofe him to receive all the rewards which the miftaken opinion
of the world can beftovv, its loudeft applaufe will often be unable to
drown the upbraidings of an inward voice ; and if a man is reduced to
be afliamed of himfelf, what avails it him to be carefled by others?

But, in truth, the reward towards which he looks whopropofes hu,
man praife as his ultimate objedt, will be always flying, like a fliadow
before him. So capricious and uncertain, fo fickle and mutable is
the favour of the multitude, that it proves the moil unfatisfaclory of
all purfuits in which men can be engaged. He who fets his heart on
it,ispreparingfor himfelf perpetual mortifications. If the greateft and
bed can feldom retain it long, we may eafily believe that from the vaia
and undeferving it will fuddenly efcape. There is no charafter but
what on fome fide is vulnerable by cenfure. He who lifts himfelf up
to the obfervation and notice of the world, is, of all men, the leafl:
likely to avoid it. Forhe draws upon hiiwfelf a thoufand eyes that will
narrowly infpeft him in every part. Everyopportunity will be watched
of bringing him down to the common level. His errours will be more
divulged, and his infirmities more magnified, than thofe of others. In
proportion tohiseagernefs for praife will be his fenfibility to reproach.
Nor is it reproach alone that will wound him. He will be as much
dejec'led by filence and neglect. He puts himfelf under the power ot"
every one to humble him, by witholding e>:pet1ed praife. Even when
praife is bedovv ed he is mortified by its being either faint cr trite. K«
pines when his reputation ft;!gnates. Tiie degree uf applaufe to whiJihe
has been accuftomed grows inlipid ; and to be always praifed from
the fame topics, becomes at lali p..uih the fame v. ith not being praifeJ
at all.

All

.2^4 Oft the Love of Praife.

All thefe ciiagrins and tiifquietudes are happily avoided by him whof
keeps fo troublefome a pialTioii within its due bounds ; who is more de-
firous of being truly worthy than of being thought fo ; who purfues
the praife of the world with manly temperance, and in fubordinatioii
to the praife of God. He is neither niade giddy by the intoxicating
vapour of applaufe, nor humbled and cafl down by the unmerited at-
tacks ofcenfnre. Reftingon a higher approbation, he enjoys himfelf
in peace, whether human praife ftays with him, or flies away. JVith
me it is cifmall thing to be judged of you, or of man^s judgment. He thai
judeetb me is the Lord. I\ly xmtnefs is i}i Heaven, and my record is on high.

In the fifth and !aft place, the advantages which redound from
the praife of men, r.re not fuch as can bear to be put in competition
with thofe which flow from the praife of God. I'hc former are
necef/arily confined within the verge of our prefent exiftence. The
latter follow us beyond the grave, and extend through all eternity.
Not only is the praife of men limited in its efFecls to this life, but alfo
to particular htuations of it. In the days of health and eafe it may
brighten the funfnine of profperity. It may then footh the ear
with pleafifTg accents, and gratify the imagination with fancied tri-
umphs. But when the difirefsful feafons of life arrive, it will be
found altogether hollow and unfubihntial : And forely, the value
6f any polTeflion is to be chiefly elhmated by the relief which it
can bring us in the time of our greateit need. When the mind is
caft down with forrow and grief, when ficknefs fpreads its gloom
around us, or death rifes in awful profpeft to oiir view, the opinions
and the difcourfes of the world will appear trifling and infignifi-
cant. To one v^'ho is occupied with nearer and more affecting
rnterefls, the praife or the cenfare oi the world will leem like the
Hoife of diilant voices, in wliith he has fmall concern. But then is the
feafon wlien the [)raiie of God fupports and upholds the labouring foul.
Brought home to the heart by the teftimony of a good confcience, and
by the divine Spirit bearing ivitnefs iviih our fpirhs, it infpires fortitude,
arid produces a peace vjhich pr^ffctb underfiandirg.

At prefent we behold an irregular and difordered flate of things.
Virtue is often deprived of its proper honours, and vice ufurps them
hi its Head. The characlers of irien are millakcn ; and ignorance and
folly difpofe of hu!"!>an applaufe. Eut the day haflens apace which fl^ail
tlofe thii fcene of crrcuri-, and vindicate the riglusof julliceaud truth,

Th?H"

On the Love of Prcnfe. t'^s^

Then J}}al\ be rendered to every man according to Ms works. E^ijvy fliall
110 longer have the power of obfcuring merit, nor popular prejudices
be able to fupport the undeferving. Hidden worth fliall be brought
to light, and lecret crimes revealed. Many who pafTed thron^h the
world in the filent obfcurity of humble but fleady goodnefs, lliall be
diffinguiflied as the favourites of heaven ; while the proud, the am-
bitious, and the vain, are left to everlafting difhonour. Tiie great
Judge hath declared, that whofoever has been cifhamed of him and (f his
words, of that man fhall he be aP^a:ned vjhcn he comet h in the glory of
his Father^ -with all the holy angelr. £.very departure from duty Ihall
at the period of final diftribution, terminate in ignominy. True ho-
nour and tiwe virtue floall be feen to coincide ; and when all human
fame has pafled away like fmoke, the only praife which fliall be for
ever remembered is that divine teftimony, IVelldone, thou good and faith*
fuljcrvant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Uird.

These arguments clearly fliovv the importance of prefervino t!ie
love of praile under proper fubordination to the j rinciplcof duty. In
itfelf, it is an ufeful motive to adion ; but when allowed to extend
its influence too far, it corrupts the whole charader, and produces
(Tiiilt, difgrace, and mifery. To be entirely deftitute of it, is a de-
it*^, 'i'o be governed by it, is depravity. The proper adjuflir^nt
of the feveral principles of aclion in human nature, is a matter that
dcferves our Irigheft attention. For when any one of them becomes
either too weak or too flrong, it endangers both our virtue ar,d cur
happinefs. Keep thy heart therefore ivith all diligence ; pray that God
would enable thee to keep it wi:h fucccfs; f'iir om of the heart arc ths
iffiies rf life.

i\ n

iiND OF THE FIRST VOLUMi-

A.,