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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5485ec3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54541 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54541) diff --git a/old/54541-0.txt b/old/54541-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 35a9063..0000000 --- a/old/54541-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9247 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 (of 8), by -Richard Hurd - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 (of 8) - -Author: Richard Hurd - -Release Date: April 12, 2017 [EBook #54541] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF RICHARD HURD, VOL 6 *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Bryan Ness, wayne Hammond and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - -[Transcriber’s Note: - -Italicized text delimited by underscores. - -There are many special characters in this text that require a utf-8 -compliant font. If you find characters that appear as a question mark -in a black box or a small rectangle with numbers in it, you should -check your reader’s default font. If you have a font installed with SIL -after the font name, you should use that one.] - - - - - THE - - WORKS - - OF - - RICHARD HURD, D.D. - - LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER. - - VOL. VI. - - Printed by J. Nichols and Son, - Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London. - - - - - THE - - WORKS - - OF - - RICHARD HURD, D.D. - - LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER. - - IN EIGHT VOLUMES. - - VOL. VI. - - [Illustration] - - LONDON: - - PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND. - - 1811. - - - - - THEOLOGICAL WORKS. - - VOL. II. - - - - - SERMONS - - PREACHED AT - - LINCOLN’S-INN, - - BETWEEN THE YEARS 1765 AND 1776: - - WITH - - A LARGER DISCOURSE, - - ON - - CHRIST’S DRIVING THE MERCHANTS - OUT OF THE TEMPLE; - - IN WHICH THE NATURE AND END OF THAT FAMOUS - - TRANSACTION IS EXPLAINED. - - SATIS ME VIXISSE ARBITRABOR, ET OFFICIUM - HOMINIS IMPLESSE, SI LABOR MEUS ALIQUOS - HOMINES, AB ERRORIBUS LIBERATOS, AD ITER - CŒLESTE DIREXERIT. - LACTANTIUS. - - - - - TO THE - - MASTERS OF THE BENCH - - OF THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF - - LINCOLN’S INN, - - THE FOLLOWING SERMONS, - - IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THEIR MANY AND - - GREAT FAVOURS, - - ARE BY THE AUTHOR - - MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. - - - - -CONTENTS - -OF - -THE SIXTH VOLUME. - - - SERMON I. Preached Feb. 3, 1771. - - MAT. xiii. 51, 52. - - _Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood - all these things? They say unto him, Yea, - Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore - every scribe which is instructed unto the - kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that - is an householder, which bringeth forth out - of his treasure things new and old._ 1 - - - SERMON II. Preached Nov. 8, 1767. - - 1 COR. x. 15. - - _I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I - say._ 23 - - - SERMON III. Preached May 17, 1767. - - ROM. ii. 14, 15. - - _When the Gentiles, which have not the Law_, - DO _by Nature the things contained in the - Law, these, having not the Law, are a Law - unto themselves: which shew the work of - the Law written in their hearts, their_ CONSCIENCE - _also bearing witness, and their - thoughts in the mean while_ ACCUSING _or else_ - EXCUSING _one another_. 37 - - - SERMON IV. Preached May 24, 1767. - - GAL. iii. 19. - - _Wherefore then serveth the Law?_ 52 - - - SERMON V. Preached May 1, 1768. - - HEB. ii. 3. - - _How shall we escape, if we neglect so great - Salvation?_ 67 - - - SERMON VI. Preached Nov. 16, 1766. - - JOHN xiv. 8. - - _Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, - and it sufficeth us._ 83 - - - SERMON VII. Preached in the year 1771. - - JAMES iv. 1. - - _From whence come wars and fightings among - you? Come they not hence, even of your - lusts that war in your members?_ 101 - - - SERMON VIII. Preached April 29, 1770. - - 1 TIM. i. 5. - - _The end of the Commandment is Charity, out of - a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and - of faith unfeigned._ 116 - - - SERMON IX. Preached Nov. 9, 1766. - - ROM. xii. 10. - - —_In honour preferring one another._ 130 - - - SERMON X. Preached May 6, 1770. - - JOHN xiii. 8. - - —_Jesus answered him, if I wash thee not, - thou host no part with me._ 143 - - - SERMON XI. Preached June 20, 1773. - - MARK ix. 49. - - _For every one shall be salted with fire, and - every sacrifice shall be salted with salt._ 160 - - - SERMON XII. Preached Feb. 9, 1766. - - GAL. vi. 3. - - _If a man think himself to be something, when - he is nothing, he deceiveth himself._ 174 - - - SERMON XIII. Preached May 16, 1773. - - 2 COR. x. 12. - - _We dare not make ourselves of the number, or - compare ourselves, with some that commend - themselves: But they, measuring themselves - by themselves, and comparing themselves - among themselves, are not wise._ 187 - - - SERMON XIV. Preached April 27, 1766. - - St. MARK iv. 24. - - _Take heed what ye hear._ - - Or, as the equivalent phrase is in - - St. LUKE, viii. 18. - - _Take heed_ HOW _ye hear_. 201 - - - SERMON XV. Preached Nov. 24, 1765. - - ROM. xvi. 19. - - _I would have you wise unto that which is good, - and simple concerning evil._ 215 - - - SERMON XVI. Preached Dec. 1, 1765. - - ROM. xvi. 19. - - _I would have you wise unto that which is good, - and simple concerning evil._ 230 - - - SERMON XVII. Preached Nov. 22, 1772. - - JOHN v. 44. - - _How can ye believe, which receive honour one - of another, and seek not the honour that - cometh of God only?_ 245 - - - SERMON XVIII. Preached April 23, 1769. - - JOHN ix. 41. - - _Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye should - have no sin; but now ye say, we see; therefore - your sin remaineth._ 260 - - - SERMON XIX. Preached May 12, 1771. - - 1 COR. viii. 1. - - _Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth._ 276 - - - SERMON XX. Preached Nov. 19, 1769. - - ACTS OF THE APOSTLES xxvi. 9. - - _I verily thought with myself, that I ought to - do many things contrary to the name of - Jesus of Nazareth._ 290 - - - SERMON XXI. Preached May 10, 1767. - - St. LUKE vi. 26. - - _Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you._ 304 - - - SERMON XXII. Preached Feb. 6, 1774. - - St. JOHN viii. 11. - - _Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee; - Go, and sin no more._ 319 - - - SERMON XXIII. Preached March 1, 1772. - - St. MATTHEW xi. 29. - - _Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in - heart: and ye shall find rest unto your - souls._ 333 - - - SERMON XXIV. Preached April 30, 1769. - - LUKE xvi. 14. - - _And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, - heard all those things: and they derided - him._ 350 - - - SERMON XXV. Preached June 25, 1775. - - ECCLESIASTES v. 10. - - _He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied - with silver._ 366 - - - SERMON XXVI. Preached Feb. 21, 1773. - - 1 COR. vi. 20. - - _Therefore glorify God in your body, and in - your spirit, which are God’s._ 378 - - - SERMON XXVII. Preached March 13, 1774. - - JOB xiii. 26. - - _Thou writest bitter things against me, and - makest me to possess the iniquities of my - youth._ 393 - - - SERMON XXVIII. Preached May 28, 1769. - - ECCLESIASTES vii. 21, 22. - - _Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, - lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For - oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth, - that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed - others._ 407 - - - - -SERMON I. - -PREACHED FEBRUARY 3, 1771. - -ST. MATTH. xiii. 51, 52. - -_Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood all these things? They say -unto him, Yea, Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe -which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that -is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new -and old._ - - -If there be any difficulty in these words, it will be removed by -considering the _manners_ of that time, in which Jesus lived, and the -_ideas_ of those persons, to whom he addressed himself. - -The Israelites were a plain, frugal people; abundantly supplied -with all things needful to the convenient support of life, but -very sparingly with such as come under the notion of ornaments or -superfluities. They drew their means of subsistence chiefly from -pasturage, agriculture, and other rural occupations. Gold and Silver -was scarce among the ancient Jews; and the less necessary to them, as -they had little traffic among themselves, and still less with their -pagan neighbours; the wisdom of their Law having purposely restrained, -and, upon the matter, prohibited, all the gainful ways of commerce. - -Now, to a people, thus circumstanced, unfurnished, in a good degree, -with arts and manufactures, and but slenderly provided with the _means -of exchange_ for the commodities they produce; management, thrift, -and what we call _good husbandry_, must have been a capital virtue. -_Householders_ were especially concerned to hoard up, and keep by them, -in readiness, all such things as might be requisite either to cloath or -feed their respective families. And therefore, as they were continually -making fresh additions to their stock, so they carefully preserved -what things they had, provided they were of a nature to be preserved, -although time and use had impaired the grace, or diminished the -value, of them. Thus, they had things _new and old_ laid up in their -store-house, or _treasury_ (for these provisions were indeed their -_treasure_), which, as the text says, they could _bring forth_, on any -emergency that called for them. - -And to this Jewish _Householder_, thus furnished and prepared for all -occasions, our Lord compares _the scribe, instructed unto the kingdom -of heaven_, in other words, the minister, or preacher of the Gospel. -Every such _scribe_ was to be suitably provided with what might be -serviceable to those committed to his charge: And the Text delivers -it, as _a general inference_ from the example of Christ himself (who, -from a variety of topics, some _new_, some _old_, had been instructing -his disciples in this chapter), that WE, the teachers of his religion, -should likewise have in store a variety of knowledge for the supply -of his church, and that we should not be backward or sparing, as we -see occasion, in the use of it. THEREFORE, says he, that is, _for -this end_[1] that your respective charges may be well and perfectly -instructed by you, as you have been by me, _every scribe, which is -instructed unto the kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that is an -householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and -old_. - -It is true, if this instruction of our Lord and Master had concerned -_only_ the preachers of the word, I might have found a fitter place and -occasion for a discourse upon it. But the case is much otherwise; and -it concerns _all_ the faithful to understand what the duty of those is, -who are intrusted to dispense the word of life, lest they take offence -at the ministry, without cause, and so deprive themselves of the fruit -which they might otherwise reap from it. - -Let me therefore lay before you some plain considerations on the -aphorism in the text; and submit it to yourselves how far they may -deserve the notice of all Christians. - -It would be ridiculous, no doubt, to torture a meer figure of speech; -and to pursue a metaphor through all the minute applications, which an -ordinary imagination might find or invent for it. But I shall not be -suspected of trifling in this sort, when I only conclude, from the -comparison of a _Christian Scribe_ to the _Jewish Householder_; - -I. That all the treasures of knowledge, which the MINISTER OF THE -GOSPEL may have laid up in his mind, are destined, _not to the purposes -of vanity, but to the use of his charge_; for such must have been the -intention of a reasonable _Householder_, in the stock of provisions he -had so carefully collected: - -II. That such use must be estimated from the apparent _wants of those, -to whom this knowledge is dispensed_; for so the frugal _householder_ -expends his provisions on those who evidently stand in need of them: And - -III. Lastly, That among these wants, some, at certain conjunctures, -may be _more general_, or _more pressing_, than ordinary; and then his -first care must be to relieve these, though other real, and perhaps -considerable wants, be, for the present, neglected by him: just, again, -as the discreet _householder_ is anxious to provide against an uncommon -distress that befalls his whole family, or the greater part of it, or -that threatens the immediate destruction of those whom it befalls, -though he suspend his care, for a season, of particular, or less -momentous distresses. - -In these THREE respects, then, I propose to illustrate and enforce the -comparison of the Text, without any apprehension of being thought to do -violence to it. - -I. The knowledge of a _well-instructed Scribe_ must be directed to the -edification of his charge, and not at all to the gratification of his -own vanity. - -This conclusion results immediately from the _subject_ of the -comparison. For the _Christian Scribe_ is not compared to a _prince_, -who is allowed, and even expected, to consult his own state and -magnificence; or, to one of those popular _magistrates_ in ancient -times, whose office it was to exhibit splendid shews, and furnish -expensive entertainments, to their fellow-citizens: but to a plain -Jewish _householder_, who had nothing to regard beyond the necessary, -or, at most, decent accommodation of his family. - -And the comparison is _aptly_ made, as we shall see if we consider, -either the _end_ of a preacher’s office, or the _decorum_ of his -character. - -His OFFICE obliges him to intend the most essential interests of -mankind, the reformation of their lives, and the salvation of their -souls. And when the object of his care is so important, what wonder if -all inferior considerations fall before it? - -Besides, the Christian preacher has a _commission_ to discharge, a -divine _message_ to deliver. And in such a case, men look not for -ingenuity, but fidelity. An ancient, or a modern sophist may make -what excursions he thinks fit into the wide fields of science; and -may entertain us with his learning, or his wit, as he finds himself -able. He _may_, I say, do this; for he has only to recommend himself -to our esteem, and to acquire a little popular reputation. But WE -have a _dispensation_ committed to us, _a form of sound words_, from -which we must not depart, _a doctrine_, which we are to deliver with -_uncorruptness_, _gravity_, _sincerity_[2]. We please not men, but God; -or if men, _to their good_, only, _to edification_[3]. - -The DECORUM of our character requires, too, that we be superior to all -the arts of vanity and ostentation. Even in secular professions, it is -expected that this rule of propriety be observed. A _Physician_ would -be ridiculous, that was more curious in penning a prescription, than in -weighing the matter of it: and the _Advocate_ would be little esteemed, -that should be more solicitous to display himself, than to serve his -client. How much more then may it be expected from _a preacher of -righteousness_, that HE should forget his own personal importance amid -the high concerns of his profession! - -And such was indeed the conduct of our best guides, in the ministry. -The ancient Fathers were, many of them, richly furnished with all the -endowments, that might be required to set themselves off to the utmost -advantage. Yet we find them, in their homilies and discourses to the -people, inattentive to every thing but their main end; delivering -themselves, with an energy indeed, but a plainness and even negligence -of expression[4], that tempts frivolous readers, sometimes, to make -a doubt of their real, and, from other monuments of their skill and -pains, unquestioned abilities. - -And, in this contempt of secular fame, they did but copy the example -of St. Paul himself, the great Apostle of the Gentiles; who, though -distinguished by the sublimest parts, though profound in his knowledge -of the Law, and not unacquainted with Gentile learning, affected no -display either of his natural or acquired talents, but, as he tells -us himself (and his writings attest the truth of his declaration), -_determined to know nothing_, among the faithful, _save Jesus Christ, -and him crucified_[5]. - -Not that what abilities we have, are always to lie concealed. There are -occasions, no doubt, when they may properly, that is, usefully, be -exerted. But the minister of the Gospel does not go in quest of such -occasions: he only adapts himself to them, when they come in his way; -and then pursues them no farther than the end, he has in view, the -edification of others, not his own credit, demands from him. - -By this rule, the preachers of the word are to conduct themselves. -By the same rule, it will, therefore, be but just to estimate their -charitable labours; and, when we see nothing to admire in them, to -conclude, That this plainness of character may not be always owing -to incapacity, but sometimes, at least, to discretion and the higher -regards of duty. - -And this candour, as liable as it is to misinterpretation, will not be -thought excessive, if you reflect, that, as, in general, they are bound -to consult the good of their charge, and to deliver nothing to their -auditors, but what they foresee, or presume at least, will be _useful_ -to them: So - -II. In the next place, The _degree_ of that utility must be regarded by -the prudent dispenser of God’s word, and can only be estimated by the -apparent _wants_ of those, to whom his instructions are addressed. - -It is an especial part of the _householder’s_ prudence to take care, -that his treasure be laid out on those, who have most need of it. -He has enough to do, perhaps, to satisfy the more pressing demands -of his domestics; and the rules of a good œconomy require that he -regard those, before their humourous inclinations, or even their more -tolerable necessities. To speak in Jewish ideas, He, that wants a -_coat_, to defend himself from the injuries of the weather, must be -supplied with that necessary garment, though he go without a _cloak_; -or, when a piece of _bread_ is called for, it must be administered -to the hungry, though others be made to wait for their delicacies of -_milk_ and _honey_; or, a lamb from the fold may be served up at an -ordinary feast, while the _fatted calf_ is reserved for some more -solemn occasion. - -Just thus it is in the dispensation of the word. We apply ourselves, -first and principally, to relieve the more importunate demands of our -hearers; and, not being able, at the same time, to provide for all, we -prefer the case of those who are starving for the want of necessary -instruction, to that of others who are in a condition to subsist on -what hath already been imparted to them. - -Hence it is, that we are most frequent in pressing the fundamental -truths of the Gospel: as well knowing, that very many have yet to -learn, or at least to digest, the first principles of their religion; -and that few, in comparison, are either prepared, or enough disposed, -_to go on to perfection_. - -There are those, perhaps, who expect us to clear up some nice point -of casuistry, or to lay open to them the grounds and reasons of some -obnoxious article in the Christian Creed: in a word, they would take -it kindly of us, if, dropping the common topics, which have been long -and much worn in the service of religion, we provided some fresh ones, -for their entertainment; and instead of the stale fragments, which are -always at hand, and lie open to all the family, we served up to them -something of better taste from the inner rooms of our store-house, -where our choicest viands are laid up. All this is extremely well: -and in due season, so far as is fitting, the charitable dispenser -of God’s word will not be wanting to their expectations; for he has -gathered nothing, however rare or exquisite, in the course of his -_household_ industry, of which he does not wish them to partake. But, -for the present, he finds this indulgence to be out of place: he sees, -that the plainest duties of life, and the most unquestioned articles -of the faith, are, first of all, to be inculcated: he perceives, that -numbers want to be put in mind of old practical truths; and perhaps he -understands, that even those, who are the most forward to call out for -novelties in speculation, do not make this demand with the best grace. -He could amuse them, it may be, with a curious theological Lecture: -but what if their sense of divine things be dead? what if they want to -have their minds stimulated by the admonitions, and their consciences -alarmed with the terrors, of the Gospel? - -The question is not put at hazard. For so, the Roman Governor was -impatient _to hear St. Paul concerning the faith in Christ_; when yet -the Apostle chose to _reason_ with him _of righteousness, temperance, -and judgement to come_: plain moral topics, such as had often been -discussed before him in the schools of philosophy, but were now resumed -to good purpose; for in the end, we are told, _Felix trembled_. - -Even, in the case of those, who may be decent in their lives, who are -enough instructed in what is called morality, nay, and would take it -ill to be thought wanting in a competent share of religious knowledge, -a discourse on _the elements of the faith_ may not be, altogether, -unseasonable. For there are, of these, who exclude _Religion_, from -their scheme of morality; or _Christianity_, from their scheme -of religion; or who, professing Christianity, scarce know what -_Redemption_ means: who are yet to learn with what awful, yet filial -piety, they are to look up to God _the Father_; who reflect not, what -transcendant honour is due from them to God _the Son_; and who have -scarce, perhaps, heared, or have little regarded, whether there _be any -Holy Ghost_. - -If any such attend our assemblies, think not much that we are ready -to impart to them the plainest, the commonest, because the most -_necessary_, instruction: and, though we would consult the wants of -all, you are not to be surprized, or disgusted, if we run to the -relief of those first, who want our assistance most; and, like the -good _householder_, bestow our _old things_ on the needy and indigent, -before we expend our _new_ on the curious and delicate; who might, we -will say, be better accommodated with them, but are not, in the mean -time, destitute of what is needful to their spiritual life. But - -III. This care is more especially required of the Christian Scribe, -when his charge is exposed, in certain conjunctures, to new and -extraordinary wants, which, if not relieved in the instant, may grow to -be ruinous, and absolutely fatal: then, above all, he is to consider, -not what instruction is most acceptable to his hearers, but what their -critical situation demands. - -For, here again, the example of the watchful and beneficent -_householder_, is our direction. The season may be uncommonly severe -and inclement: or, a dangerous, perhaps a contagious disease, afflicts -his family; and then the warmest, although the coarsest, clothing must -be sought out for the _naked_; and not the most palatable, but the most -wholesome food, must be administered to the _sick_. - -Disasters, like these, sometimes befall the household of Christ. A -cold atheistic spirit prevails, and chills the vital principles of -all virtue, as well as religion: or a pestilent heresy spreads its -venom through the church, and turns the medicine of life itself, the -salutary instruction of God’s word, unless prepared and applied by -skilful hands, into a deadly poison. Then it is that the well-appointed -Scribe emulates the generous care and pains of the good _householder_; -and whatever he has in store, of ancient or modern collection, whether -of philosophy or criticism, whether of eloquent persuasion or sound -logic, all must be brought forth, to warm the piety, or to purify the -faith, of his hearers. - -We, of this nation, have not been so happy as to want examples of such -distresses. - -1. The fanatical sects, that sprung up in abundance amid the confusions -of the last century, had so corrupted the word of God by their impure -glosses on the Gospel-doctrine of Grace, that the age became immoral on -principle, and, under the name of _Saints_, engendered a hateful brood -of profligate _Antinomians_; that is, a sort of Christians, if they may -be so called, _who turned the grace of God into licentiousness_, and, -to magnify his goodness, very conscientiously transgressed his Laws. In -a word, they taught, that the _elect_ were above ordinances, and might -be saved without, nay in defiance of, the moral Law. - -This horrid divinity struck so directly at the root of all true -religion, that it could not but alarm the zeal of good men. -Accordingly, about the time of the Restoration, and for some years -after it, a number of eminent Divines (and ONE especially, well known, -and deservedly honoured, in this place[6]) bent all their nerves to -expose and confound so pernicious a heresy: and with so invincible a -force of plain and perspicuous reasoning, as brought most men to their -senses, and effectually silenced, or disgraced, the rest. They opened -the grounds and obligations of morality so plainly, and set the Gospel -scheme of salvation _through faith, working by charity_, in so full and -striking a light, that injured _Virtue_ recovered her ancient honours, -and yet was taught to acknowledge a just dependance on saving _Faith_. - -Such was the triumph of enlightened reason and well-interpreted -Scripture over _Antinomianism_: while yet many perverse, and more -mistaken, hearers of those days, were ready to revile their teachers, -for dwelling so much and so long on these _old_ topics, and would have -gladly received other, and more _novel_ instructions, at their hands. - -2. But now the licence of that age, which followed the Restoration, was -gone over, on the sudden, into other extravagances, equally ruinous to -the souls of men. - -It had been made too clear to be denied, that moral righteousness is of -indispensable obligation, so long as there is a God to serve, or common -sense is allowed to have any hand in explaining his laws. To get rid -then of so inconvenient a restraint, as genuine morality; many daring -spirits of that time, rushed into _Atheism_; while the more timid, -took refuge in _Popery_. For, to disown a moral Governour, or to admit -that any observances of superstition can release men from the duty of -obeying him, equally serves the purpose of those, who resolve to be as -wicked as they dare, or as little virtuous as they can. - -These new evils, each of which, in its turn, the court itself had -countenanced, or introduced, called for fresh remedies; and it was -not long before they were administered, with effect. The same eminent -persons, who had vindicated moral virtue, now supported the cause of -_piety_, and of _protestantism_, with equal success. They overturned -all the prophaneness, and all the philosophy of _Atheism_, from its -foundations: and, with resistless argument, baffled the presumption, -and beat down the sophistry, of the church of Rome. Yet these matchless -servants of truth were charged by some, with indiscretion in bringing -to light all the horrors of atheistic impiety, though in order to -expose them; and with preposterous zeal, in directing all their efforts -against Popery, though it wore, at that time, so malignant an aspect on -all our dearest interests. - -They were not, however, diverted by these clamours from pursuing their -honest purposes: and we owe it to them, in a great measure, that these -two systems of iniquity, I mean, Atheism, and Popery, are no longer in -repute among us. - -3. Still, the state of the times may be altered, without being much -improved. For, though few will avow direct Atheism, and not many, I -hope, are proselyted to Popery, yet the number of those is not small, -who are but Protestants, in name; and scarce Deists, in reality. Many -profess, or secretly entertain, a disbelief of all revealed Religion; -and many more take unwarrantable liberties with the Christian faith, -though they pretend to respect it. At the same time, as extremes beget -each other, there are those who seem relapsing into the old exploded -fanaticism of the last age; from a false zeal, it may be, to counteract -the ill impression of those other licentious principles. - -Thus is the unbalanced mind of man always shifting from one excess into -another; and rarely knows to sustain itself in that just _mean_, which -pure religion and right reason demand. Wonder not therefore, that our -cares are still suited to the exigencies of our hearers; and that we -labour to supply them with that provision of sacred truth, which they -most want; that we strive to excite in them awful ideas of God’s moral -government; are _instant in season and out of season_ to assert the -utility, the importance, the necessity of divine revelation; and are -anxious to maintain the prerogatives of Christian faith, yet without -depreciating the moral Law, or infringing the rights of natural reason: -that we admonish you to think soberly, to inquire modestly, and to -believe what the word of God expressly teaches, though ye do not, -and can not, many times, comprehend the height and depth of divine -wisdom: that we remember, in short, what is required of Stewards, who -are appointed to dispense the treasures of Christian knowledge, and to -superintend the _household_ of God. - -I have now gone through the several topics, which our Lord’s parable of -the _Householder_ seemed naturally to suggest to me: not so much with -a view to make our own apology (for if we do not our duty, we deserve, -and if we do, we want, none) as to set before you a just idea of our -office and ministry, that so ye may judge rightly and equitably of -us, for your own sakes. For it is not indifferent to the _household_, -what opinion is entertained of the _Householder_. Many will not suffer -him to _relieve_ their wants, or perhaps acknowledge they _have_ any -_wants_ to be relieved, if they do not conceive with some respect of -his discretion, at least, and good-will. - -And though, in the discharge of our duty to all, we may seem to neglect -many, and may even dissatisfy, nay offend some; yet, on reflexion, you -will see that we are not wanting to our trust—if we always endeavour -to dispense _salutary_ doctrines—if, especially, we dispense _such_ -as the apparent and urgent necessities of men call for—and, above -all, if we be ready to dispense _all_ our treasures, _new_ and _old_, -when the more alarming distresses of the Christian church require, on -occasion, our best attention and liberality. - -To conclude: We respect your good opinion; nay, perhaps, are too -solicitous to obtain it. But we would, or we should, in the first -place, please him, who hath called us to _serve_, and expects us to be -_faithful, in all his house_[7]. For we presume to be something more -than Orators, or Philosophers, plausible and artificial discoursers, -who have nothing in view but their own credit, and are eloquent or -ingenious, that is, _vain_, by profession. We have a character to -sustain of greater dignity, but less ostentation. _For_ WE _preach not -ourselves, but Christ Jesus our Lord; and ourselves, your servants for -Jesus sake[8]._ - - - - -SERMON II. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 8, 1767. - -1 COR. x. 15. - -_I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I say._ - - -Though St. Paul said this to the Corinthians, on a particular occasion, -in reference to a single argument he was then prosecuting, and possibly -not without an intended sarcasm on those whom he here qualifies with -the name of _Wise men_, yet the words themselves express the Apostle’s -_own constant practice_; and what is more, they express the _general -spirit and genius_ of that Religion, which he was commissioned to -teach. - -For the Christian Religion, divine as it is in its origin, sublime in -its precepts, and profound in its mysteries, yet condescends to apply -itself to the rational faculties of mankind; and, secure in its own -native truth and evidence, challenges the wise and learned to _judge_ -of its pretentions. - -So that we may regard the declaration of the text, as a standing -precept to the Ministers of the word, _to speak as to wise men_; and -to the hearers of it, to use their best faculties, _in judging of what -they say_. - -These then shall be the _two parts_ of my discourse upon it. _Each_ -will suggest some important reflexions to the persons respectively -concerned; to US, who preach the word, and to YOU, who hear it. - -I. The Religion of Jesus was designed for the instruction of all -sorts and degrees of men. Nay, it is even alledged as one mark of its -divinity by Jesus himself, that not only the rich and wise, but the -_poor_ and simple, _have the Gospel preached unto them_[9]. And from -the different reception of it, at first, by these two sets of men, we -may perhaps see which of them deserved it most. But be this as it will, -the Christian Religion was destined for the use of all mankind. Its -saving truths are to be made known to all: yet with some difference in -the _mode_ of teaching them, according to the capacities of those to -whom they are addressed. - -TO PLAIN AND ILLITERATE MEN, who have no prejudices to counteract the -virtue of God’s word, and no pride of reason or science to question -its authority, the true and proper way is, no doubt, to represent the -great truths of the Gospel, simply and clearly, accompanied with its -more general and obvious proofs, and enforced upon them with all the -earnestness of exhortation. These _proofs_, and this _exhortation_, -carry such light and force in them, as may be reasonably expected to -have an effect upon all men: yet to the WISE, who are prompted by their -curiosity, to habits of inquiry, to _ask a reason of the hope that is -in us_[10], and who are qualified by their parts and studies to _judge_ -of such reason, we are instructed to address a more elaborate _answer_, -or apology. - -The question then will be, ON WHAT PRINCIPLES SUCH APOLOGY MUST BE -FORMED? A question the more important, because the apologies of all -times have been too generally constructed on false and pernicious -principles; on _such_ as cannot support, but rather tend to weaken and -disgrace, the very cause they would defend. - -Such were the apologies, many times, of the _ancient Christians_, who -would incorporate with the divine religion of Jesus the vain doctrines -of the Gentile philosophy: and such have been too often the more -_modern apologies_, which debase the word of God, and corrupt it, with -the dreams of our presumptuous metaphysics. - -Our Religion has suffered much in both these ways: not, that reason or -philosophy of any kind, truly so called, can dis-serve the cause of -a _divine_ Religion; but that we reason and philosophize _falsely_, -or _perversely_; that is, we apply falshood to truth; or, we misapply -truth itself, in subjecting the incomprehensible mysteries of our faith -to the scrutiny and minute discussion of our best reason. - -From these miscarriages, we are admonished what to _avoid_: the example -of the Apostle Paul, who _spake as to wise men_, may instruct us in the -right way of _prosecuting_ the defence of the Gospel. - -From _him_, then, we learn to frame our answers and apologies to -inquisitive men, on the great established truths of natural and -revealed Religion; to assert the expediency of divine Revelation, from -the acknowledged weakness and corruption of human nature, and from -the moral attributes of the Deity; to illustrate the œconomy of God’s -dispensations to mankind by arguments taken from that œconomy itself: -to reason with _reverence_[11] on the nature of those dispensations, to -shew what their general scope and purpose is, how perfect an agreement -there is between them, and how divinely they are made to depend on each -other. - -In doing this, we shall find room for the exercise of our best and -most approved reason: we shall look far ourselves, (and be able to let -others) into the harmony of the divine councils, as they are set before -us in the inspired volumes: and, though we may not penetrate all the -depths and obscurities of those councils, yet, as in contemplating -the WORKS of God, which we know but in part, we can demonstrate his -_eternal power and Godhead_, so, in studying his WORD, we shall see -enough of his unsearchable wisdom and goodness, _to put to silence the -ignorance of foolish_, and to satisfy the inquiries of _wise_, men. - -I say, _to satisfy the inquiries of wise men_: for _wise men_ do not -expect to have all difficulties in a divine system cleared up, and -every minute question, which may be raised about it, answered (for -_this_, God himself, the author and finisher of it, can only perform, -and much _less_ than this is abundantly sufficient for our purpose); -but all they desire is to see the several parts of it so far cleared -up, and made consistent with each other, and, upon the whole, to -discover such evident marks of a superior wisdom, power, and goodness -in the frame and texture of it, as may convince them that it is truly -divine, and worthy of the Supreme Mind to whom we ascribe it. - -When we speak _thus_ as to _wise men_, we do all that _wise men_ -can require of us: if others be still unsatisfied, the fault is in -themselves; they are _curious_, but not wise. - -I lay the greater stress on this mode of defending the Christian -Religion from _itself_, that is, by arguments taken from its own nature -and essence, because it shortens the dispute with inquirers, and -secures the honour of that Religion, we undertake to defend. - -First, _It shortens the dispute with Inquirers_, by cutting off the -consideration of all those objections which men raise out of their own -imaginations. The defender of Christianity is not concerned to obviate -every idle fancy, that floats in the head of a visionary objector. Men -have not the making of their Religion, but must take it for such as -the Scriptures represent it to be. And if we defend it on the footing -of such representation, we do all that can be reasonably required of -us. It is nothing to the purpose what men may imagine to themselves -concerning the marks and characters of a divine Revelation: it is -enough, that there are _such marks and characters_ in the Religion -of Jesus (whether more or fewer, whether the same or other, than we -might previously have expected, is of no moment) as shew it, in all -reasonable construction, to be _divine_. And thus our labour with -Inquirers is much abridged, while all foreign and impertinent questions -are rejected and laid aside. - -Next, this _mode_ of defence _secures the honour of that religion, we -undertake to support_. For, if we fail in our endeavours to unfold some -parts of the _Christian system_, we are but in the condition of those, -who would experimentally investigate and clear up some difficulties -in _the system of nature_. Want of care, or diligence, or sagacity, -may subject both the Divine and the Philosopher to some mistakes: -but either system is the same still, and lies open to the pains and -attention of more successful inquirers. Nobody concludes that the -system of nature is not divine, because this or that Philosopher has -been led by hasty experiments to misconceive of it. And nobody _should_ -conclude otherwise of the Christian system, though the Divine should -err as much in his scriptural comments and explications. Whereas, -when we attempt to vindicate Christianity on principles not clearly -contained in the word of God, we act like those who form physical -theories on principles which have no foundation in _fact_. The -consequence is, That not only the labour of _each_ is lost, but the -system itself, which each would recommend, being hastily taken for what -it is unskilfully represented to be, is vilified and disgraced. For -thus the _Christian system_ has in fact been reviled by such as have -seen, or _would_ only see it, through the false medium of Popish or -Calvinistical ideas: and thus the _system of nature itself_ hath, it is -said, been blasphemed by ONE[12], who judged of it from the intricacies -of a certain astronomical hypothesis. The remedy for this evil, is, to -solve scriptural difficulties by scriptural principles, and to account -for natural appearances by experimental observations: and then, though -the application of each may be mistaken, the system remains inviolate, -and the honour both of God’s WORD and WORKS is secured. - -And let thus much suffice, at present, for the duty _of him, who -speaketh as to wise men_. Much more indeed is required to the -_integrity_, and still more to the _success_, of his defence. But -he that _speaketh, as the oracles of God_, that is, who defends a -divine Religion on its own divine principles, does that which is most -essential to his office; and eminently discharges the part of a _wise -speaker_, since he plans his _defence_ in the best manner. - -II. It now remains to consider the other part of the text, which -challenges _the wise men_, to whom the Apostle _spake_, to JUDGE of -what he said to them. - -From the time, this _challenge_ was given by the learned Apostle, there -never have been wanting _wise men_, disposed and forward to accept -it. And thus far, all was well: for they had a right to exercise this -office of _judging for themselves_, if they were, indeed, capable of -it. But have they considered, to what that _capacity_ amounts? and that -much more is required to make a good JUDGE, than a good SPEAKER? - -Let us briefly _examine_ then the pretentions of those, who have at -all times been so ready to sit in judgement on the Advocates for -Religion, by the known qualities of a capable Judge: which, I think, -are _Knowledge_, _Patience_, _Impartiality_, _Integrity_, under which -last name I include _Courage_. - -1. The first requisite in a Judge, is a competent _knowledge_ in the -subject of which he judges, without which his other qualities, how -respectable soever, are rendered useless. Nor is this knowledge, in -the present case, inconsiderable. For, to say nothing of _sacred -and prophane Antiquity_, to say nothing of the _Sciences_, and above -all, the science of _Ethics_, in its largest extent, the _Judge_ of -religious controversy must be well versed, because the _Advocate_ is -required to be _supremely_ so, in the great _principles and doctrines_ -of natural and revealed Religion. To decide on _the merits of -Christianity_, without this knowledge, would be as absurd, as to decide -on _the merits of the English jurisprudence_, without an acquaintance -with the _common law_, and the _Statute-book_. - -2. The next quality, required in a Judge, is _Patience_; or a -deliberate unwearied attention to the arguments and representations of -the Advocate, pleading before him. This attention is more especially -expected, when the subject in debate is important, when it is, besides, -intricate, and when the Advocate is able. - -But these circumstances all concur, in the case before us. If the -question concerning the truth and authority of Revelation be a cause -of any moment at all, it is confessedly of the greatest: Again, if the -scheme of Revelation _be_, as it pretends to be, _divine_, it must -require the best application of our best faculties to comprehend -it; and, lastly, as the ablest men of all times, of every profession -and denomination, have appeared in its defence, such advocates may -demand to be heared with all possible attention. For the Judge of -such a cause, then, to confide in his own first thoughts, to listen -negligently and impatiently, and to precipitate his determination, must -be altogether unworthy the character he assumes. - -3. It is expected of a Judge that he be strictly _impartial_; that he -come to the trial of a cause without any previous bias on his mind, or -any passionate and prevailing prejudices, in regard either to persons -or things, which may indispose him to see the truth, or to respect it. -And this turn of mind, so conducive to a right determination in all -cases, is the more necessary here, where so many secret prejudices are -apt, without great care, to steal in and corrupt the judgement. - -4. The last quality, which men require in a Judge, is an inflexible -_Integrity_: such as may infuse the virtue and the courage to give -his judgement according to his impartial sense of things, without any -regard to the consequences, in which it may involve him. This constancy -of mind may be put to no easy trial in the present case; when the -Judge’s determination may perhaps interest his whole future conduct; -and when the censure, the scorn, and the displeasure of numbers, and -possibly of those whom he has hitherto most considered and esteemed, -may be incurred by such determination. - -THESE are the great essential qualities which we look for in a JUDGE, -and which cannot be dispensed with in a Judge of _Religion_. How far -all, or any of these qualities are to be found in those, who take -to themselves this office, I have neither time, nor inclination, -to consider. For my purpose is not to disparage those who have -exercised the right of judging for themselves in the great affair of -Religion, nor to discourage any man from doing himself this justice: -but simply to represent the difficulties, that lie in our way, and -the qualifications we must possess, if we would _judge a righteous -judgement_. - -I leave it to yourselves, therefore, to apply these observations, -as ye think fit. Ye will conclude, however, that to _judge_ of the -pretentions of your religion is no such easy task, as that any man, -without _parts_, without _knowledge_, without _industry_, and without -_virtue_, may presume to undertake it. - -The sum of all I have said is, then, this. The Apostle, when he became -an Advocate for the Gospel, condescended _to speak_, and it must -therefore be more especially the duty of its uninspired advocates to -_speak as to wise men_; that is, to employ in its defence the powers -of reason and wisdom, of which they are capable. But it will be -remembered, too, that much, nay _more_, is required of the JUDGES of -it; and that they must approve themselves, not only _wise_, but, in -every _moral_ sense, excellent men, before they are qualified to pass a -final judgement on what such Advocates have to _say_ on so momentous a -cause, as that of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION. - - - - -SERMON III. - -PREACHED MAY 17, 1767. - -ROM. ii. 14, 15. - - _When the Gentiles, which have not the Law_, DO _by Nature the - things contained in the Law, these, having not the Law, are a Law - unto themselves: which shew the work of the Law written in their - hearts, their_ CONSCIENCE _also bearing witness, and their thoughts - in the mean while_ ACCUSING _or else_ EXCUSING _one another_. - - -The scope of this chapter being to assert, that the Gentile, as well -as Jew, had a right to be admitted into the Christian church, and -that he was equally entitled to share in the blessings of it, the -Apostle grounds his argument upon this Principle, “That, in the final -judgement, there would be no respect of persons with God; but that -Gentiles, as well as Jews, would be recompensed in that day, if not in -the same degree, yet by the same rule of proportion, that is, according -to their works.” - -Whence it would follow, that, if this equal measure was to be dealt to -_both_, in the _future judgement_, it could not seem strange if _both_ -were to be admitted to the _present benefits and privileges_ of the -Gospel. - -But to keep off a conclusion so uneasy to his inveterate prejudices, -the Jew would object to this reasoning, “That the Apostle’s assumption -must be false; for that as God had given the Heathens no Law, they were -not accountable to him: that, as there could be no room for Punishment, -where no Law forbade, so there could be no claim to Reward, where no -Law enjoined: and consequently, that the Heathen world, being left -without Law, had no concern in a future recompence, at all.” - -This suggestion the Apostle obviates, by shewing the inconsequence of -it. His answer is to this effect. You, says he, conclude, that the -Heathens are not accountable, because they have no Law. But it no way -follows, because they had no Law extraordinarily revealed to them from -Heaven, that therefore the Heathens had no Law, or Rule of life, at -all. For these, _having no_ such _Law_, were a _Law unto themselves_; -that is, their natural reason and understanding was their Law. - -And, for the real existence of such natural Law, he appeals to the -virtuous ACTIONS of some Heathens, _who_ DO _by nature the things -contained in the Law_; who, besides, as it follows in the next verse, -_shew the work of the Law written in their hearts, their consciences -also bearing witness, and their thoughts in the mean while accusing -or else excusing one another_. In which last words are contained two -additional arguments in proof of the same point; the _first_, taken -from their own CONSCIOUSNESS of such a Law; and the _second, from their -reasonings between one another_, ACCUSING _or else_ EXCUSING: for this -is the strict sense and literal construction of those words in the -original, which we improperly translate—_their thoughts in the mean -while accusing or else excusing one another_[13]. - -So that in the verses of the Text we have a PROPOSITION asserted; and -THREE distinct arguments brought in proof of it. The proposition is, -_that the Heathen are a Law unto themselves_, or, as it is otherwise -expressed, _have a Law written in their hearts_. The arguments in proof -of it are, 1. The virtuous lives of some heathen, _doing by nature -the work of the Law_: 2. The force of _conscience_, testifying their -knowledge of such Law: and, 3. lastly, their _private and judicial -reasonings_ among themselves, referring to the confessed authority of -it. - -In conformity to this method of the Apostle, my business will be to -open and explain the several arguments in the order, in which they lie; -and to confirm, by that means, the truth of his general Proposition, -_That there is a natural Law, or Rule of moral action, written in the -hearts of men_. - -I. The argument from the virtues of the heathen world, in proof of -a Law of nature, _written in the hearts of men_, will seem strange -to some, who may object, “That, if the appeal be to _action_, it may -with greater reason be inferred, there was not any such law; since -the crimes and vices of the heathen world, as terribly set forth by -St. Paul himself in the preceding chapter, were far more notorious, -than its Virtues. So that if there be any force in St. Paul’s appeal -to the virtuous lives of some heathen, as evincing a Law, _written in -their hearts_, because their practice was governed by it; the like -appeal to the vicious lives of many more heathen, should seem with -still more force to prove the non-existence of such Law, in as much as -it did _not_ govern their practice.” But the answer is obvious. For -a law may be in part, or even totally, violated by persons under a -full conviction of its existence and obligation: whereas it is hard to -imagine, that any number of men, of different times, in distant places, -and under different circumstances of age, temper, and education, should -exhibit in their lives the same tenour of action, without the guidance -of some fixed and common Rule. - -This then being observed, let us turn our eyes upon the heathen -world; on that part, more especially, which is best known to us -from the authentic monuments of Greek and Roman story. For _bad_ as -that world was, it cannot be denied to have furnished many instances -of extraordinary virtue. We find there _justice_, _temperance_, -_fortitude_, and all those virtues, which their own Moralists called -_Offices_, and which the sacred page has dignified with the name of -_Graces_, exhibited in their fairest forms, and emulating, as it were, -even Christian perfection[14]. - -But it will be said of _both_ these people, what was long since -objected by one of them to the other, that their actions were not so -illustrious, as is pretended; that we take the accounts of them from -their own interested relaters, to whose vanity or genius we are rather -to impute the fine portraits, they have given us, of pagan virtue, than -to real fact and the undisguised truth of things[15]. - -Be this allowed. Still there will be ground enough to enforce the -Apostle’s conclusion. For whence, if not from the source to which he -points, could be derived those numerous corresponding instances, though -of faint, unfinished Virtue? how, but by _nature, did the heathen_, -in any degree, _the things of the Law_? and whence, the traces of -that conduct in the pagan world, which the Law itself prescribed as -_virtuous_? - -Or, were the evidence from _facts_ ever so suspicious, whence those -admired portraits and pictures themselves? or, by what accountable -means has it come to pass, that their historians and panegyrists have -been able to feign so successfully? In truth, had the pagan world -afforded no _one_ instance of a virtuous people, I had almost said, -no _one_ instance of a virtuous character, yet would the projected -form of such a people, by one hand[16], and the delineation of such a -character, by another[17], have been a certain evidence of some Rule -of life and manners, _written in the heart_, if not transcribed into -practice; influencing the judgement to approve, if not the will to obey -it. But this consideration, perhaps, comes more naturally under the -second head of the Apostle’s reasoning, which is drawn, - -II. _From the force of conscience in the heathen world._ - -To perceive the force of this argument, it must be remembered, That, -by conscience, is only meant _a man’s judgement concerning the quality -of his own actions_; which judgement, however come at, whether by -use, or institution, by reason, or instinct, equally supposes some -_Law_, or Rule of conduct, by which the nature of each action is -tried, and by which its worth is estimated. Now it is of no moment in -the present case, from which soever of these sources that judgement -is _immediately_ drawn, since it cannot but be, that some fixed -principle, common to human nature, and of equal extent with it, must -have originally given birth to such judgement. For if _use_, or -_institution_, be considered as the probable source of it, the question -will recur, whence that Use, or what the original of that Institution? -A question, which cannot be resolved, unless we conceive some _natural -law_, as working at the root, and branching out, as it were, into -_Use_, or _Institution_. - -Nor is it sufficient to say, _That the manners of different people -are, and have been, widely different; and that conscience, or -self-judgement, according as different notions or practices prevail, -condemns, or approves the very same action_. Without doubt, it does; -but the consequence is not, as some sceptical writers have imagined, -that there is no common principle of nature, distinguishing between -right and wrong, or that moral action is of absolute indifference; -but that men are, and have been, careless and corrupt; that they have -either not used the light of nature, or have some way abused it. For -it holds of _Sentiment_, as of _Action_, that, though the agreement -of numbers in all times and places be a good argument _for_ the -existence of some common rule of right, as effecting such agreement -(because otherwise no tolerable account can be given of it); yet -the disagreement even of greater numbers is no proof _against_ the -existence of such Rule, as we can, without that supposition, give a -satisfactory account _of_ that disagreement. I call it _a satisfactory -account_; for it comes from St. Paul himself, who has taken care to -obviate this plausible objection. If it be said then, _That the Heathen -approved bad, and condemned good actions_, we own they sometimes did, -but answer with the Apostle, That, in such cases, _they became vain -in their imaginations_, and that _their foolish heart was darkened_; -that, as they _did not search to retain God in their knowledge_, did -not exert their faculties to acquire or preserve a right sense of God’s -nature and will, _he gave them up to an unsearching mind_, suffered -them to darken and put out the light of their understandings, and so to -_do_ [and to _approve_] _things that were not convenient_[18]. - -This being the true account of the diversity of human judgement, such -diversity only proves that the light of nature has been misused, not, -that it was never given. Whereas, on the other hand, if the Heathen -world can shew us, in general, a conformity of judgement in moral -matters, under their state of nature, with that of the world, under the -light of Revelation, what follows, but that they, _having not the Law, -shew the work of the Law written in their hearts_? - -But now that there was, in fact, such a conformity, we conclude from -_the accounts of these times, the sense of writers, and the confessions -of persons themselves_: the only means, by which a point of this nature -can be established. The pagan historians and moralists are full of such -lessons, as we now profit by: and even their poets, on the stage itself -(where _common_ nature is drawn for the sake of _common_ instruction) -represent their characters, for the most part, as _good_ or _bad_, -according to the ideas we should now entertain of them. In writers -of all sorts, we find abundant evidence of this truth. Numberless -persons are upon record, who confess, in their own cases, and attest, -this uniform power of conscience. They applaud themselves for, what -_we_ should call, _a well-spent life_, and they condemn themselves -for, what _we_ call, _a bad one_. To touch on a topic so known as -this, is, in effect, to exhaust it. I shall then but just point to -the great _Roman patriot_[19] exulting in the memory of his _Virtues_: -and to the _Roman governour_[20], so famous in sacred writ, whom the -preaching of Paul, in concurrence with his own heart, made tremble for -his _Vices_. - -III. But if men did not feel the power of conscience operating -within themselves, and declaring _a Law written in their hearts_, -yet their daily conduct towards each other, in the civil concerns of -life, would evidently proclaim it. For observe how studious men are -to repel an injurious imputation, fastened on a friend; and still -more, how they labour to assert their own innocence. What pains do -we see taken, to overthrow a _false_ evidence, and what colours of -art do we see employed to palliate or disguise a _true_ one! No man -needs be told that this is the constant practice of Christians: and -_did not the Heathens the same_? Here then is a fresh proof of the -point in question; an argument of familiar evidence arising from the -transactions of common life. For, in the altercations with each other, -in reference to _right_ and _wrong_, there is manifestly supposed some -prior Law of universal reason, to which the appeal on both sides is -directed, and by which the decision is finally to be made. And this, as -the Apostle’s argument suggests, whichever of the contending parties be -in the _wrong_: For the charging another with _wrong_ conduct, equally -implies a Rule, determining my judgement of moral action; as the -defending myself or others from such a charge, evinces my sense of it. -Thus, whether I _accuse_, or _answer for myself_, either way, I shew _a -law written in my heart_; whence I estimate the _right_ or _wrong_ of -the supposed question. Thus much might be inferred from the ordinary -topics of _conversation_: but the case is still clearer, when they come -to be debated _in courts of Justice_. More especially, therefore, the -struggles and contentions of the _Bar_ (for the terms, employed in the -text, being _forensic_, direct us chiefly to that interpretation), a -series of civil and judiciary pleadings, such as have been preserved to -us, from heathen times, in the writings of a Demosthenes, or Cicero, -are a standing, unanswerable argument for the existence of a _Rule -of Right_, or _Law of natural reason_. For how should these debates -be carried on without a Rule, to which the advocates of either party -refer? or how should these judicial differences be composed, without -a common Law, to arbitrate between them? And what though the Law, -referred to, be a _written institute_: it was first _written in the -heart_, before legislators transcribed it on brass, or paper. - -You see then, the sum of the Apostle’s reasoning stands thus. The -Heathens, who had no revealed Law, DID _by nature, the things of the -Law_: their JUDGEMENT, too, of their own actions, conformed to the -judgement of _the Law_: and, lastly, their DEBATES with one another, -whether public or private, concerning _right_ and _wrong_, evidenced -their sense of some Law, which _Nature_ had prescribed to them. - -And in this fine chain of argument, we may observe the peculiar art, by -which it is conducted, and the advantage, resulting from such conduct -to the main conclusion. For if the argument from WORKS should seem -of less weight (as it possibly might, after the Apostle’s own charge -upon the heathen world, and in that age of heathen corruption) yet the -evidence arising from CONSCIENCE, which was an appeal to every man’s -own breast, could hardly be resisted: or, if conscience could be laid -asleep (as it might be by vice and ill habits) it was impossible they -could deny the DEBATES among themselves, or not see the inference that -must needs be drawn from them. - -It may, further, seem to have been with some propriety that the sacred -reasoner employed these topics of argument, in an address to ROMANS: -who could not but feel the weight of them the more, as well knowing the -ancient VIRTUE of their country; as knowing too, that the Roman people -had been famous for their nice sense of right and wrong, or, in other -words, a moral CONSCIENCE; and that, as having been a free people, they -had been always accustomed to DEBATES about moral action, public and -private. - -Such is the force, and such the elegant disposition and address, of the -Apostle’s reasoning. The conclusion follows irresistibly, _That there -is a Law written in our hearts, or that, besides a Revealed Law, there -is a law of natural reason_. - -That this conclusion is not injurious to _revealed Law_, but indeed -most friendly and propitious to it; that, in particular, it no way -derogates from the honour of the _Christian Law_, nor can serve in any -degree to lessen the value, or supersede the use and necessity of it; I -shall attempt to shew in another discourse. - - - - -SERMON IV. - -PREACHED MAY 24, 1767. - -GAL. iii. 19. - -_Wherefore then serveth the Law?_ - - -When the Apostle Paul had proved, in his Epistle to the Romans[21], -that if the _uncircumcision kept the righteousness of the Law, his -uncircumcision would be accounted for circumcision_; that is, if the -Gentile observed the _moral law_, which was his proper rule of life, he -would be accepted of God, as well as the Jew, who observed the _Mosaic -Law_; this generous reasoning gave offence, and he was presently asked, -WHAT ADVANTAGE THEN HATH THE JEW[22]? - -In like manner, when the same Apostle had been contending, in his -Epistle to the Galatians, that _the inheritance was not of the Law, -but of Promise_[23]; that is, that all men, the Gentiles as well as -the Jews, were entitled to the blessings of the Christian covenant, in -virtue of God’s _promise_ to Abraham—_that in his seed all the nations -of the earth shall be blessed_—and not the Jews exclusively, in virtue -of the _Mosaic Law_, given to them only; the same spirit discovers -itself, as before, and he is again interrogated by his captious -disciples, WHEREFORE THEN SERVETH THE LAW? if the Gentiles may be -justified _through faith in Christ_, and so inherit the promise made to -Abraham, as well as the Jews, to what purpose was the Jewish Law then -given? - -And to these questions, how unreasonable soever, the learned Apostle -has himself condescended to give an answer. - -Now, the same perverseness, which gave birth to these Jewish -prejudices, seems to have operated in some Christians; who, on being -told, and even by St. Paul himself, of _a Law of Nature_, by which the -Heathen were required to govern their lives, and by the observance of -which, without their knowledge of any revealed Law, they would be -finally accepted, have been forward in their turn, to ask, WHEREFORE -THEN SERVETH THE LAW? Or, if there be a _natural Law_, according to -which the very Heathen will be judged, and may be rewarded, what are -the boasted privileges of _Revealed Law_, and, in particular, the -revealed Law _of the Gospel_? - -Now to this question (having, in my last discourse, asserted the -proposition, which gives occasion to it) I shall reply, in the best -manner I can, by shewing, - -I. That the supposition of a _natural moral Law_ is even necessary to -the support of REVELATION: And - -II. That this supposition no way derogates from the honour of the -GOSPEL. - -I. _That a natural moral Law is required to support the authority of -Revelation_, I conclude, not merely, _because_ this supposition is -actually made in sacred Scripture, _because_ the sacred writers argue -expressly from it, and every-where refer to it, but principally and -chiefly, _because_, without admitting this prior Law of nature, we -cannot judge of any pretended Revelation, whether it be divine or no. -For, if there be no such moral Law, previously given, which our hearts -and consciences approve, and to which our common nature assents, we -can never see the fitness of any means, as conducive to _a moral end_; -we can entertain no just and clear notions of _moral action_, properly -so called; and consequently, we can have no ideas of what are called -_the moral attributes_ of God. Now, in this state of ignorance and -uncertainty, how shall any man go about to prove to us the divinity of -any Revelation, or through what medium can its truth or authenticity -be established? We have no Rule, no principles, by which to judge of -the Law, pretending to come from God: we cannot tell, whether it be -worthy of him, or not: we do not so much as know, what _worth_ or -_goodness_ is, either in ourselves, or in the Deity. Thus all _internal -arguments_ for the excellence of any Religion are at once cut off: -and yet till, from such considerations, we find that a Religion _may_ -come from God, we cannot reasonably conclude, on any evidence, that it -_does_ come from him. The Religion of Mahomet may, for any thing we can -tell, if there be no moral Law for us to judge by, be as worthy of God, -as that of Jesus. Nor will any _external arguments_, even the most -unquestioned miracles, of themselves, be sufficient to confirm its -pretensions. For how shall we know, that these miracles are from God, -unless we understand what his attributes are, and whether the occasion, -for which they are wrought, be such as is consistent with them? - -So that those zealous persons, who think they do honour to the revealed -will of God, by denying him to have given prior natural Law, do, -indeed, defeat their own purpose, and put it out of their power to -judge of any Revelation whatsoever. There is, then, a Law of Reason, -_written in the heart_, by which _every_ Religion, claiming to be -divine, must be tried; or we have no ground to stand upon in our -endeavours to support the credit and divinity of _any_ Religion. - -What is, then, so necessary to the support of _Revelation_, in general, -cannot, we may be sure, - -II. _Any way derogate from the honour of the Christian Revelation_, in -particular. - -But, to put this matter out of all doubt, I shall distinctly shew, that -the supposition of a _natural moral Law_ neither discredits the USE; -nor tends, in the least, to supersede the NECESSITY, of the Gospel. - -And, 1. IT DOES NOT DISCREDIT ITS USE. - -For, what, if all men be endowed with those faculties, which, if -properly employed, may instruct us in the knowledge of God and -ourselves, and of the duties we, respectively, owe to him and to each -other? Is it nothing that this knowledge is rendered more easy and -familiar to us by the lights of the Gospel? Is it nothing, that those -laws, which men of thought and reflexion may deduce for themselves from -principles of natural reason, are openly declared to all: that they are -confirmed, illustrated, and enforced by express revelation? Is it of no -moment, that the plainest and busiest men are as fully instructed in -their duty, as men of science and leisure, the simplest as well as the -wisest, the mechanic and the sage, the rustic and philosopher? Is it -of no use, that men are kept steady in their knowledge and observance -of the law of nature, by this pole-star of revelation? that they are -secured from error and mistake, from the effects of their own haste, or -negligence, or infirmity, from the illusions of custom or ill example, -from the false lights of fanaticism or superstition, and from the -perverseness of their own reasonings? Look into the history of mankind, -and see what horrid idolatries have overspread the world, in spite of -what _Nature_ teaches concerning God; and what portentous immoralities -have prevailed in the wisest nations, in defiance, nay, _what is -worse_, under the countenance and sanction, of what was deemed _natural -Reason_. - -Add to all this, that the moral duties, we thus easily and certainly -know, and without any danger of mistake or corruption, by means of -the evangelical Law, are enjoined by the highest authority; are set -off by the brightest examples; are recommended to us by new arguments -and considerations; are pressed upon us by the most engaging motives, -higher and more important than nature could suggest to us; and, lastly, -are sublimed and perfected by the most consummate reason. - -Still we are not got to the end of our account. Consider, further, -our natural weakness, strengthened and assisted by the influences of -divine Grace; the doubts and misgivings of Nature, in the momentous -points of repentance and forgiveness of sin, cleared; the true end -and destination of moral agents, discovered; a future judgement, -ascertained; and the hopes of endless unspeakable glory, which nature -could at most but desire, and had no reason (unless that desire be, -itself, a reason) to expect, unveiled and fully confirmed to us. - -This, and still more, is but a faint sketch of the advantages, which, -even in point of morals, we derive from revealed Law. Go now, then, and -say, that the light of nature, set up in your own hearts, obscures the -glory, or _discredits the use_, of the everlasting Gospel! - -2. But it is a low, degrading, and unjust idea of the _Gospel_, to -regard it only, as a new code of morals, though more complete in -itself, more solemnly enacted, and more efficaciously enforced, than -the prior one of _nature_. Were the _use_ of each the same, the -honour of the Christian revelation would not be impaired, because its -NECESSITY IS NOT SUPERSEDED. - -For Christianity, rightly understood, is something, vastly above what -Reason could discover or procure for us. It confirms, incidentally, -the law of nature, and appeals to it; it harmonizes, throughout, with -that and every other prior revelation of God’s will as it could not -but do, if it were indeed derived from the same eternal source of light -and truth. But, for all that, it is no more a simple _re-publication_ -of the natural, than of any other divine Law. It is a new and distinct -revelation, that perfects and completes all the rest. It is the -consummation of one great providential scheme, planned before the ages, -and fully executed in due time, for the redemption of mankind from sin -and death, through the mercies of God in Christ Jesus. - -Now, in this view, which is that which Christianity exhibits of its own -purpose, the scheme of the Gospel is not only of the most transcendant -_use_, as it confirms, elucidates, and enforces the moral Law, but of -the most ABSOLUTE NECESSITY: I say, _of the most absolute necessity_; -in reference to the divine wisdom, and to the condition of mankind, -both which, without doubt, if we could penetrate so far, required -this peculiar interposition of Heaven, on principles of the highest -reason, as well as goodness. But the _necessity_ is apparent even to -us, on the grounds of this very Revelation. For its declared purpose -was to rescue all men from the power of _Death_, and to bestow upon -them immortal _life_ in happiness. But, now, the same Gospel, that -tells us this, tells us, withal, that, _as in Adam all men died, so -in_ CHRIST, only, _shall all men be made alive_; and that, _without -the blood_ of CHRIST, _there could be no remission_ of the forfeiture -incurred by the transgression of Adam. You see, then, that, to argue -upon Gospel-principles (and the fair inquirer can argue upon no other) -the Christian dispensation was _necessary_ to fulfill the purposes of -God to man, and to effect that which the divine councils had decreed in -relation to him. - -The consequence is, that though we admit a Law of nature, and even -suppose that Law to have been a sufficient guide in _morals_, yet the -honour of Christianity is fully secured, as it’s _necessity is not -superseded_ by the law of nature, which had not _the promise of eternal -life_, and could not have it; such promise being reserved to manifest -and illustrate the grace of God, through the Gospel. - -Reason may be astonished at this representation of things, but finds -nothing to oppose to it. It looks up, in silent adoration, to that -supreme incomprehensible Power, which wills that which is best, and -orders all things with the most perfect reason. - -Nor let it be any objection, that the Law of Nature points to some -just recompence of moral agents, independently of the Christian Law. -Without doubt, it does; and, if the Gospel had never been vouchsafed to -man, the judge of all the world would have done that which was fit and -right. But can reason, can our own hearts, assure us, that the best of -us could stand the scrutiny of strict justice, or be entitled to any -recompense of _reward_? Or, if our presumption answer this question -in our favour, have we the least pretence to that unspeakable reward, -solely made known and promised in the Gospel, _of everlasting life_? -Or, if mere Heathens, who are to be judged by their own Law, may be -admitted to an eternal inheritance of life and glory, are we sure that -this mercy (for mercy it is, and cannot be of right) is not vouchsafed -to them, through Christ, though they may have been ignorant of Him? or -rather, are we not certain that it must be so, since _eternal life_, on -whomsoever bestowed, _is the gift of God through Christ_[24]? - -What effect the Gospel-scheme of Redemption through Christ may have -on those who lived of old under the Law of nature or any other -Law, or who since the coming of Christ have continued in the same -circumstances; it becomes us with great caution to enquire, because the -Scriptures have not explicitly and fully instructed us in that matter. -But, from certain expressions, occasionally dropped by the sacred -writers, such as—_that Christ died for all[25]; that God was in Christ -reconciling the world to himself[26]—that Christ is the propitiation -for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole -world_[27]; from these, and other passages of the like nature, we are -authorised to conclude, that the benefits of Christ’s death do extend, -in _some sense_, to all men: that, though each will be judged by the -Law he lived under, the issue of that judgement will respect the death -of Christ: that their living again to receive the recompence of the -deeds done in the body, however Nature might suggest this event, is, in -fact, brought about through _the redemption that is in Christ_[28]: and -that whatever recompence they receive beyond what in strict justice is -due unto them, is to be placed entirely and singly to his account. Such -inferences, as these, are apparently reasonable, and just: nor do they -prejudice, in any degree, the hope and faith of a Christian: others may -have an interest in the blood of the cross; but our privilege is to -_know_ that we have it. The advantages flowing from this knowledge, are -infinite. And therefore good reason there is to hold, with the Apostle, -that, although _the living God be the Saviour of all men_, yet is he -_specially so of those that believe_[29]. - -On the whole, then, if men will be putting such a question to us, as -that of the text, _Wherefore then serveth the Law?_ to what end was the -_Christian Law_ given, if there be a prior Law of Nature, to which men -are responsible, and by which they will be judged? We are now prepared -to give them a satisfactory answer. - -We say then, _first_, that the _Christian Law_, to whatever ends _it -serveth_, presupposes the existence of a _prior natural Law_, by which -its pretensions must be tried, and, of course, therefore, its honour is -supported. - -But, _secondly_, and more directly, we answer, that the supposition -of such natural Law no way diminishes _the honour of the Christian -Law_; for that it serves to many the most important MORAL USES, over -and above those to which the Law of nature serves; and that, further, -it is of the most absolute NECESSITY to the accomplishment of its own -great purpose, _the redemption of the world_, which the Law of nature -could not effect, and which the divine wisdom ordained should only be -effected through Christ Jesus. _Lastly_, we reply, that the benefits of -the Gospel institution may, must, in some measure, extend to all the -sons of Adam, as well as to those who are more especially enlightened -by the Christian faith: that all mankind have an interest in the -Gospel, though we Christians are first and principally indebted to it. - -To conclude, whatever Law, whether we term it of _nature_, or -_revelation_, has been given to us, we should receive with all -thankfulness and reverence. But, more especially, should we adore the -riches of God’s grace in the revealed Law of the Gospel, and in the -singular unspeakable mercies conveyed by it. Far from envying the -Heathen world the advantages they receive from the Law of Reason, -under which they live; let us bless God for his impartial over-flowing -goodness to all men; let us even rejoice for the benefits treasured -up for them in a merciful dispensation of which, at present, they -unhappily know nothing; and let us only acknowledge, with especial -gratitude, the higher blessings vouchsafed to us, who are called to -_serve God in the Gospel of his Son_[30]. - - - - -SERMON V. - -PREACHED MAY 1, 1768. - -HEB. ii. 3. - -_How shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation?_ - - -The Religion of Nature, is the Law of God, speaking by the voice of -Reason: the Religion of the Gospel, is the Law of God, speaking by -the Revelation of Jesus. Each of these Laws is deservedly called, _a -great Salvation_: the _former_, as the basis of all true Religion; the -_latter_, as the consummation of all God’s religious dispensations to -mankind. - -Concerning the different purpose and genius of these Laws, I shall not -now speak; at least, no farther, than is necessary to enforce the -Apostle’s pathetic question, _How shall we escape, if we neglect so -great Salvation_; if we neglect to observe these Laws, respectively -given to promote man’s truest happiness? - -The world abounds in commentaries on the Law of Nature, and on the -Law of Christianity. But the misfortune is, that most men regard the -study of these Laws, rather as an exercise of the mind, in the way of -curious speculation, than as an interesting pursuit, which concerns -their moral and religious practice. Which is just the same folly as -would be charged on those, who should spend their lives in studying -the municipal Laws of their country, with a total unconcern about the -observance of them in their own persons. - -Indeed the penal sanctions, which attend the violation of those Laws, -would presently reclaim the student from this folly, and remind him -of the _end_, to which his skill and knowledge in them should be -principally directed. And if, in the study of general morals, or of -revealed religion, he neglect to refer his speculation to practice, it -is only because their penalties are less instant, or less constraining; -and not that either the Law of Nature, or the Law of the Gospel, is -without its proper and suitable sanctions. - -I. These sanctions, as to the _Law of Nature_, as little as they are -sometimes considered, are easily pointed out. For who, that grossly -offends against that Law, but is punished with self-contempt; with an -anxious dread of that power, which inscribed the law on his heart, -and will, some way or other, secure the honour of it; with a sensible -diminution of his health, or fortune, or reputation; sometimes, -with the decline of his parts and faculties; with many uneasy and -embarrassing, however unforeseen, situations, into which his vices lead -him; with inevitable distresses, experienced in his own person, perhaps -entailed on his posterity; in a word, sooner or later, with a disgust -of _this_ life, and a trembling apprehension of what may befall him in -a _future_? - -By these penalties, is the LAW OF NATURE enforced: and they are such, -as must soon convince a thinking man, indeed every man, that his true -interest lies in the observance of that Law. At the same time, it must -be owned, that this Law is strict and severe: It punishes with rigour, -and rewards sparingly. Disobedience is certain, often intense, misery; -while the most punctual compliance with it secures but a moderate -enjoyment of this life, and so much happiness in another (if indeed -_any_ happiness can be hoped for) as in strict justice may be required. - -Yet _this_ is the Law, which many, it seems, had rather live and dye -under, than accept the benefit of a far BETTER. For, - -II. It pleased God, in compassion to his creature, man, not to leave -him under this Law; but, by _a special Revelation_ of his will, to -confer those blessings upon him, which he had no ground in reason to -expect, and no means in nature to obtain. Hence, _the free gift of -immortality_, on the condition of obeying a certain precept, given -to Adam. The _gift_ was immense, and the _condition_ easy: but, the -_latter_ not being observed, the _former_ was as justly forfeited, as -it had been graciously bestowed. - -Still, through the exhaustless mercy of the supreme moral Governour, -a way was found out, by which unhappy man might be restored to his -lost inheritance. He returned again, for the present, under the -former yoke of Nature, or, at best, was committed to the tuition of -a rigid _School-master_ (for such St. Paul styles the ritual Law of -Moses); with some _hopes_, indeed, of a better state, to which he was -one day to be advanced; but those, darkly intimated, and imperfectly -conceived. The divine purpose, however, was to lead him, by this -wholesome discipline, to Christ, to the religion of his Son; who, in -due time, vindicated the honour of God’s government, by _fulfilling all -righteousness_; expiated the foul offence of man’s disobedience by his -death upon the cross; and reconveyed the inestimable gift of immortal -life in happiness, on the new terms of FAITH IN THE DIVINE SAVIOUR, -by whose ministry this great work was atchieved. Thus, Jesus became -a ransom for the sins of mankind; appearing indeed in our nature at -that season which was pre-ordained, but _being slain_ (in the divine -councils, and therefore the benefit of his death operating) _from the -foundations of the world_. - -This is a brief account of that great redemption in Christ Jesus, by -which we are again restored to those hopes, which had been forfeited by -Adam’s transgression. In consequence of this dispensation, the reward -of obedience is _eternal Life_: not of debt, but of grace, through -faith in the Redeemer. But this is not all. To facilitate and secure -that _obedience_ (to which so immense a benefit is now annexed) a -perfect example of it is set before us in the person of Christ himself; -and the holy Spirit is given to the faithful, to purify their hearts -and lives, _and to fill them with all joy and peace in believing_[31]. -On the other hand, the penalty of _disobedience_ (what could it be -less?) is a perpetual exclusion from bliss and glory, with such a -degree of positive suffering, annexed, as the respective demerits -of incorrigible sinners, or the sanctity and wisdom of the divine -government, may demand. - -Add to all this, that the same scriptures, which open to us the terms -of this dispensation, declare, likewise, that no other terms will ever -be offered; that we are _complete in Christ_[32]; that all the divine -councils, in regard to man, are closed and shut up in _him_; and that -no further sacrifice remains for sin, but that every man, henceforth, -must stand or fall by the terms of the everlasting Gospel.—_How then -shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation?_ - -III. Still, as I said, there are those, who had rather trust to the Law -of Nature, than the Law of Grace; who had rather take their chance of -being saved by the rule of their own Reason, than owe their Salvation -to the methods prescribed to them by the rule of the Gospel. - -Their pretences for this perverse choice, are various: but the true -reason, I suppose, is, that the dispensation of the Gospel, though it -be unspeakably more benign, more gracious, more encouraging to the good -and virtuous, is, at the same time, more awful, more terrifying, to -resolved impenitent sinners, than the dispensation of Nature: and they -are content to give up their hopes of that immortal prize, which the -revelation of Jesus holds out to them, rather than encounter the hazard -of that severe sentence, which attends the forfeiture of it. - -Be it so then: ye had rather forego the hopes of heaven, than have your -minds disquieted with the fear of hell. - -But, _first_, do ye not see, that there is something base and abject in -this disposition? For what generous man will not aspire to an immense -reward, which Heaven, in extreme kindness, may be almost said to force -upon him, because there may be danger in coming short of it? “Yes, -but the danger is immense, too.” Rather say, the loss is immense: the -danger of incurring this loss, is not so. For what, indeed, is the -danger, when Heaven is your guide, and a crown of glory your hope; -when ye have God’s word to assure you of the prize, ye contend for; -when ye have the holy Spirit of God to assist you in the pursuit; -when ye have the Son of God, your all-merciful Saviour himself, to be -your Judge, and the dispenser of that prize to you; when, with all -these encouragements on the one hand, ye are, besides, quickened by a -salutary fear of justice, on the other; and when all that is required -of yourselves is, a reasonable faith, a willing mind, and a sincere, -though, in many respects, imperfect obedience? Is the danger to be much -esteemed, when the helps are so great, when the labour is so small, and -the success almost certain? But, - -_Secondly_, Consider, also, whether ye do not even prevaricate with -yourselves, when ye say, ye had rather take up with a less reward, -than run the hazard of so great a punishment. Ye certainly resolve not -to contend for any reward at all, not even for the reward of Nature. -If ye did, ye might with more ease, as well as certainty, obtain that -of the Gospel. For whether is easier, think ye, to obtain a gift from -infinite mercy, or to extort a debt from infinite justice? - -But, _Lastly_, the matter is not left to your choice. When God, in his -wisdom, had projected a scheme for the salvation of mankind before the -ages; when he had prosecuted that scheme by many successive revelations -of himself, by many notices and preparatory indications of his good -pleasure; when he had separated a chosen family from the rest of the -world, to serve as a repository of his councils, and to minister to -himself in the execution of them; when he had sent forth his angels to -assist in this great work, and had inspired many prophets and holy men -to signify, beforehand, the glories of a new kingdom which he meant -to establish on earth, and to prepare men for the reception of it; -when, after all these preludes of his wisdom and goodness, he came, in -due time, to astonish the world with the completion of this adorable -scheme, by sending forth his only begotten Son, the express image of -his person, to take upon him our nature, to suffer and to die for us; -and, by raising up Apostles and Evangelists, under the guidance of -his holy Spirit, to record these amazing transactions; and, by the -attestation of stupendous miracles, to spread the knowledge of them -over the face of the earth: when this, I say, and more, had been done -by the Almighty to usher in his last best dispensation into the world, -think not, that all this mighty apparatus was to be thrown away on -our caprice or obstinacy; and that, after all, we may be at liberty -to reject his whole design, or take as much, or as little of it, as -our wayward fancies shall suggest to us. No: assuredly the councils of -Heaven will stand firm, whatever attempts we may make, in our wisdom, -or weakness, to subvert them. As well may we think to overturn the -everlasting mountains, or push the earth itself from its centre, as to -defeat or set aside one tittle of that _eternal purpose, which God hath -purposed in Christ Jesus_[33]. To whomsoever the sound of the Gospel is -come, whether he will hear, or not hear, by that Gospel he must stand -or fall: he is, thenceforth, _under the bond of the Covenant_: through -faith in Jesus, he inherits the _promises_; or, if he withhold his -faith, it is not at his option to have no concern in the _threats_ of -the Gospel. - -I know what is commonly said to representations of this sort—“That -_Faith_ depends not on the _will_, but on the _understanding_: that, -when the evidence for the truth of any proposition is full and -clear, it constrains my assent; when it is otherwise, I reject the -proposition, as false, or, at best, suspend my belief of it; and, -in either case, as without merit, so without blame: that no Law is -obligatory to me, any farther than I see cause to admit the authority -of it; and that no pretence of its divine original can subject me to -the sanctions of it, unless, on my best inquiry, I allow that claim to -be well founded: that, consequently, the Law of Christianity cannot -concern him, who is not convinced of its truth; that, where this -conviction is not, disbelief must be a matter purely indifferent: and -that _He_ only is responsible to that Law, who understands it to be his -duty to be controuled and governed by it.” - -This reasoning is plausible; and has many advocates, because it -flatters the pride and independency of the human mind.—But, when a Law -is promulged with that evidence, which the _divine Legislator_ (for -of _such_ I am now speaking) sees to be sufficient for the conviction -of a reasonable man, it is concluding too fast, to suppose, that I -am innocent in rejecting it; or that I am not bound by it, though I -do reject it. Error, or unbelief, is only indifferent, when it is -perfectly involuntary or invincible; but there is clearly no room for -this plea in the present case, when, by the supposition, there is no -want of fit evidence. - -Even in the case of _human_ Laws, my rejection of them may be -blameable, though I neither admit the _authority_ nor the _equity_ of -the laws themselves. For there _may_ be evidence enough of _both_, if -I will but attend to it. Now put the case of a _divine_ Legislator; -and what was _supposeable_, becomes _certain_. For the attributes of -the Deity will permit no doubt, but that, when he gives a Law to man, -he will afford such proofs of it, as may, in reason, satisfy those, to -whom it is addressed. So that their rejection of it can only proceed -from some neglect or wilfulness, on their own part, and not from the -want of a sufficient attestation, on the part of the Legislator. - -Ye see then, there is no absurdity in supposing the Law of Christianity -to oblige those, who do not receive it: for if that Law be of God (and -we argue now upon that hypothesis) the evidence for it must be such -as is suited to our faculties; and being addressed, as the tenor of -it shews, to all mankind, it binds of course all those to whom that -evidence has been submitted. - -And this indeed is the very language of that Law itself. For the Jews -disbelieved the Gospel, when it was preached to them by our blessed -Lord. But what says the Legislator to these unbelievers? Does he leave -them to the Law of Nature, whose authority they did not dispute, or -to the Law of Moses, which God himself, they knew, had given them? No -such thing: he tells them, that very Law, which they rejected, should -_judge_ them. “He, that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath -one that judgeth him: the WORD, that I have spoken, the same shall -judge him in the last day[34].” And he assigns the reason of this -determination—“For I have not spoken of myself; but the Father, which -sent me, he gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should -speak:” that is, the Law, I give you, is of _divine authority_; and -therefore not to be rejected without blame on any pretence by you, to -whom the knowledge of it, and the proper evidence on which it rests, -has been committed. - -These reflexions, I know, have small weight with those, who treat the -evidences of the Gospel with that scorn, which is familiar to some -men. But such persons should, at least, see that their scorn be well -founded. If not—but I will only say, they may subject themselves, for -aught they know, to the penalties of the Gospel; I mean, to the future -judgement of _that man, whom_, in this life, _they would not have to -reign over them_[35]. - -But this remonstrance is properly addressed to those _that are -without_, to the contemners of the Christian Law. To YOU, who are -within the pale of Christ’s Church, and acknowledge his authority; who -profess yourselves to be his servants; who admit no other Law, but -in subjection to his, and have no expectation of life and glory from -any other; to YOU, I say, the question of the text is above measure -interesting, _How shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation?_ - -Compassion, and prudence, and charity may restrain you from censuring -with severity the enemies of the faith; may dispose you to overlook, or -to soften at least, the alarming denunciations of the Gospel, in which -they are concerned. But for YOURSELVES, who have given your names to -Christ, and have hope in him only; who know the wonders of mercy that -have been wrought for you, and were finally completed on that cross, -which is your trust and consolation, your pride and glory, it is almost -needless to say what _your_ interest, and what _your_ obligation is, to -observe, respect, and reverence the dispensation of the Gospel. _Ye_ -are self-condemned, if ye slight this Law: ye are ungrateful, up to all -the possibilities of guilt, if ye make light of it: ye are undone for -ever, if _ye neglect so great Salvation_. - -What allowances it may please God to make for the prejudices, the -passions, the slights, the blasphemies of unthinking and careless -men, who have never embraced the faith of Jesus, it may not, perhaps, -concern you to inquire. But ye know, that ye are responsible to that -Law, which ye profess, and to that master, whom ye serve; that to you, -indifference is infidelity; and disobedience, treason; that wilful -unrepented sin in a Christian is without hope, as without excuse, shuts -him out from all the rewards, and exposes him, even with his own full -consent to all the punishments of the Gospel. - -In a word, as their _joy is great in believing_, who obey the Gospel -of Christ; so the guilt and the terror is proportionably great, to -disobedient believers. For, dreadful as _unbelief_ may prove in the -issue to such as, through their own fault, have not come to the -knowledge of Christ, _Belief_, without obedience, is more dreadful -still. I have an apostle’s warrant for this assertion. _For it had been -better for us not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after -we have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto -us[36]._ - - - - -SERMON VI. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 16, 1766. - -St. JOHN, xiv. 8. - -_Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us._ - - -Our Lord, being now about _to depart out of the world_[37], prepares -his disciples for this unwelcome event by many consolations and -instructions. He acquaints them, more particularly than he had -hitherto done, with his own _personal dignity_. He tells them, that, -_as they believed in God, they were also to believe in him_[38]; and -that, although he should shortly leave them, it was only to remove -from Earth to Heaven, to his _Father’s house_, where he should more -than ever be mindful of their concerns, _and whither I go_, says -he, _to prepare a place for you_[39]. And, to impress this _belief_ -(so necessary for their future support under his _own_, and _their_ -approaching sufferings) the more strongly upon them, He declares, in -the most authoritative manner, _that he_, only, _was the Way, the -Truth, and the Life; and that no man could come to the Father, but by -him_[40]. Nay, to shew them how great his interest was, and how close -his union, with the Father, he even adds, _If ye had known me, ye -should have known my Father also; and from henceforth_, continues he, -_ye know him, and have seen him_[41]. - -This last declaration seemed so strange to his disciples, who had no -notion of _seeing the Father_ in our Lord’s suffering state, or indeed -through any other medium, than that of those triumphant honours, which -their carnal expectations had destined to him, that one of them, -the Apostle _Philip, saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, and -it sufficeth us_. As if he had said, “We know thee be a person of -great holiness, and have seen many wonderful things done by thee; so -that we cannot doubt but that thou art a prophet sent from God, for -some great end and purpose of his providence. But if thy pretensions -go so far as to require us _to believe in Thee, as in the Father_; -if we are to conceive of Thee, as the only _Life_ of the world; of -so great authority with God, as to procure _mansions_ in heaven for -thy disciples; nay, of so great dignity in thine own person, as to -challenge the closest _union_ and communication with the eternal -Father; if, indeed, we are to believe such great things of thee, it -is but reasonable, as thou sayest; that, _in knowing and seeing thee, -we also know and see the Father_; that we have the clearest and most -unquestioned proofs of thy divinity. _Shew us_, then, _the Father_; -make us see the glorious symbols of his presence; present us with -_such_ irresistible demonstrations of his power and greatness, as were -vouchsafed to our Fathers, at the giving of the Law; _such_, as strike -conviction on the senses, and overrule all doubt and distrust in so -high a matter; _shew us_, I say, _the Father_, in this sense, _and it -sufficeth_ to our persuasion and firm belief in thee.” - -We see, in this conduct of the Apostle Philip, a natural picture of -those inquirers into the truth of our religion; who, because they -have not the highest possible evidence given them of it, (at least, -not that evidence, which they account the _highest_) are tempted, if -not absolutely to reject the faith, yet to entertain it with a great -mixture of doubt and suspicion. “If Christianity, say they, were what -it pretends to be, the arguments for it would be so decisive, that -nothing could be opposed to them; if it were, indeed, of God, the -proofs of its claim had been such and so many, that no scepticism could -have taken place, no infidelity, at least, could have kept its ground, -against the force of them.” - -When this wild fancy comes to take possession of men’s minds, the whole -tenour of God’s dispensations is quarrelled with, and disputed: every -circumstance in our Lord’s history looks suspicious: and every _fact_, -applied to the confirmation of our holy faith, rises into a presumption -against it. - -_The word of Prophecy_ has not been so clear and manifest, as it might -have been: _therefore_, the proofs taken from it are of no validity. -The miracles of Christ were not so public or so illustrious as might -be conceived: _therefore_, they are no evidence of his divine mission. -The scene of his birth and actions might have been more conspicuous: -_therefore_, the light of the world could not proceed from that -quarter. The Gospel itself was not delivered in that _manner_, nor by -those _instruments_, which they esteem most fit; its _success_ in the -world has not been so great, nor its _effects_ on the lives of men, so -salutary, as might have been expected: _therefore_, it could not be of -divine original. - -But there is no end of enumerating the instances of this folly. Let -me observe, in one word, that the greater part of the objections, -which weak or libertine men have opposed to the authority of revealed -Religion, are of the same sort with the demand in the text. The authors -of them first _imagine_ to themselves, what evidence would be the most -convincing; and then refuse their _assent_ to any other. Their constant -language is that of the Apostle Philip—_shew us the Father, and it -sufficeth us_. - -Now, to see how little force there is in this sort of argumentation, -let it be considered, that such high demands of evidence for the -truth of the Christian revelation, are IMPERTINENT, at the best; that -they are, most _probably_, on the part of the revealer, IMPROPER to be -complied with; that they _must_ be, on the part of man, PRESUMPTUOUS, -and unwarrantable. - -I. All demands of this sort are clearly _impertinent_, and beside the -purpose of a fair inquirer into the authority of a divine Religion. -For the question is, whether such religion be not accompanied with -that _evidence_, which is sufficient to determine the assent of a -reasonable man; not, whether it be the highest in its kind, or in -its _degree_, which might be imagined. There is an infinite variety, -and, as we may say, gradation in the scale of moral evidence, from -the highest forms of _demonstration_ down to the lowest inducements -of _probability_. The impatient mind of man, which loves to rest in -assurance, may demand the former of these in every case: but the just -and sober inquirer, whatever he may wish for, will submit to the -_latter_. He takes the argument, as presented to him; he weighs the -moment of it; and if, on the whole, it preponderates, though but by -some scruples of probability, against the inductions on the other side, -he is determined by this evidence, with as good reason, though not with -as much assurance, as by demonstration itself. His business, he knows, -is to examine whether the conclusion be justly drawn, not whether it -be irresistibly forced upon him. It is enough, if the proof be such as -_merits_ his assent, though it should not _compel_ it. - -Apply, now, this universal rule of just reasoning to the case of -the _Gospel_. Consider it on the footing of that evidence, which -it pretends to offer. If this evidence be weak and inconclusive in -itself, let it be rejected. But, if it be sufficient to the purpose for -which it is given, why look out for any _higher_? The pretensions of -Christianity are, indeed, very great. It claims to be received by us, -as the _work and word of God_. The proofs of its being such should, -no doubt, be adapted to the nature of these pretensions. If, in fact, -they be so adapted, all further attestations of its truth, all stronger -demonstrations of its divinity (supposing there might be stronger) are, -at least, _unnecessary_: our demands of them are without ground, and -without reason: that is, they are clearly _not to the purpose_ of this -inquiry. But - -II. The _impertinence_ of these demands, is not all. There is good -reason to believe, that they are, in themselves, absolutely unfit and -IMPROPER to be complied with. - -In saying this, I do not only mean that the _evidence_, such men call -for, is so far mistaken as to be really of an inferior sort, and less -convincing to a well-informed mind, than that which they reject. This, -no doubt, is very frequently the case. It has been shewn in many -instances, and even to the conviction of the objector himself, that -such circumstances as have been thought most suspicious, such proofs as -have appeared the weakest, have upon inquiry turned out, of all others, -the strongest and most satisfactory. For example, they who object to -the _mean instruments_, by which the Christian Religion was propagated, -are confuted by the Apostle Paul himself; who has shewn _that very -circumstance_ to be the clearest proof of its divinity; this method of -publishing the Gospel having been purposely chosen, _that our faith -should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God_[42]. -And the same answer will equally serve to many other pretences of the -like nature. - -But, as I said, my intention is not, at present, to expose the common -mistake of preferring a _weaker_ evidence to a _stronger_. Let it be -allowed, that the evidence required is, in fact, the _stronger_. Still -there is reason to think that _such_ evidence was not _proper_ to be -given. And I argue, _from the nature of the thing_; and _from the -genius of the Gospel_. - -1. In _the nature of the thing_ it seems not reasonable that a divine -revelation should be obtruded upon men by the highest possible -evidence. This would be to _constrain_ their assent, not to _obtain_ -it: and the very essence of religion consists in its being a _willing_, -as well as _reasonable_ service. - -Or, take the matter thus. On supposition that it should please God to -address himself to man, it is to be presumed he would treat him _as_ -man; that is, in a way, which is suitable to _the whole of his nature_. -But _man_ is not only an _intelligent_ being, that is, capable of -discerning the force of evidence, and of being determined by it: he -is, also, a _moral_ being, that is, capable of making a right or wrong -use of his liberty. Now put the case of an overpowering, irresistible -evidence, and his _understanding_ is convinced, indeed; but the _will_, -that other and better half of his composition, the spring of liberty -and of virtue, this, with all the energies depending upon it, is -untouched, and has no share in the operation. On the other hand, let -the evidence submitted to him be such only as may satisfy his reason, -if attentively, if modestly, if virtuously employed, and you see the -whole man in play: his _intellectual_ powers are considered, and his -_moral_ faculties, the faculties of a _wise and understanding heart_, -applied to and exerted. - -It seems, then, that, if a Revelation were given to man, it would most -probably, and according to the best views we can form of the divine -conduct, be given in this way; that is, in such a way, as should make -it, at once, the proper object of his _faith_, and the test, I had -almost said the reward, of his _merit_. - -And such, we may observe, is the sense of mankind in other instances of -God’s government. Who complains, that the ordinary blessings of Heaven, -the conveniences and accommodations of life, are not ready furnished -and prepared to his hands? Who does not think it sufficient, to our -use and to God’s glory, that we have the powers requisite to prepare -them? Why then expect this greatest of God’s blessings, a _divine -Revelation_, to be made cheap in being forced upon us, whether we will -or no, by an _evidence_, which silences reason, rather than employs -it; and precludes the exercise of the noblest faculties, with which our -nature is invested? - -2. Thus, _the reason of the thing_ affords a presumption (I mean, if -men will reason at all on such matters), that these high demands in -religion are unfit to be complied with. But we shall argue more safely, -in the next place, from _the_ GENIUS AND DECLARATIONS OF THE GOSPEL. - -From the tenour of the Gospel-revelation we learn, that, though a -_reasonable evidence_ be afforded of its truth, yet the author and -publishers of it were by no means solicitous to force it on the minds -of men by an _unnecessary and irresistible evidence_. - -We see this in the conduct of our Lord himself, who refused to gratify -the curiosity both of friends and foes by needless _explanations_[43], -or supernumerary _miracles_[44]. We see it, further, in his general -method of speaking by _Parables_[45]; which are so contrived as to -instruct the attentive and willing hearer, but not the prejudiced or -indifferent. Nay, when some of his parables were so obscure as that -they might seem to require an explanation, he did not always vouchsafe -to give it before the people, but reserved the exposition of them for -_his disciples, in private_[46]. _To them_, only, _it was given to know -the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven_: others, were left to their own -interpretation of his _Parables_[47]. - -This proceeding of Christ plainly shews that he was not anxious to -_instruct_ or _convince_ in that _way_, which might appear the most -_direct_ and _cogent_. It seems, on the contrary, to have been his -choice to afford the strongest proofs of his mission and the clearest -views of his doctrine to _those_, not whose incredulity needed his -assistance most, but _who_, by their good dispositions and moral -qualities, deserved it[48]. He thought not fit _to cast pearls before -swine_[49]; and, as contrary as it may be to our forward expectations, -it was a rule with him, that _he that hath, to him it should be -given_[50]. - -That this was the genius of the Gospel, we further learn from the -stress, which is laid on _Faith_. It is everywhere demanded as a -previous qualification in the aspirants to this religion; it is -everywhere spoken of as the highest moral virtue: a representation, -strange and impossible to be accounted for, if men were to be borne -down by the weight of _evidence_ only. - -But, to put the matter out of all doubt, we have it declared to us in -express words, that those converts are the most acceptable to Christ, -who receive his religion, on a reasonable, indeed, but inferiour -evidence. When the Apostle Thomas expressed his belief, on the evidence -of _sense, Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, -thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have -believed_[51]. - -Now, whatever occasion prophane men may take from this account of -Gospel-evidence to calumniate the divine Author of our Faith, as -though he relied more on the _credulity_, than the _conviction_ of his -followers; whatever perverse use, I say, some men may be disposed to -make of this circumstance; one thing, I suppose, is clear, “That the -genius of the Gospel does, in fact, discountenance their _high demands_ -of evidence.” So that, taking the Christian religion for _what it is_ -(and for _such_ only, the rules of good reasoning oblige us to take -it) it is very certain that no man is authorized to expect other or -stronger proofs of its divinity than have been given. On the contrary, -such proofs, as men account stronger, could only serve to weaken its -evidence, and overthrow its pretensions. - -III. Lastly, Though no _distinct reason_ could have been opposed to -these high expectations in religion, yet common sense would have seen, -“That they are, _in general_, PRESUMPTUOUS AND UNWARRANTABLE.” - -For what man, that thinks at all, but must acknowledge that sacred -truth, _that God’s ways are not as our ways_[52]; and that it is the -height of mortal folly to prescribe to the Almighty? _What man is he -that can know the council of God? Or, who can think what the will of -the Lord is?—Hardly do we guess aright at things that are upon the -earth, and with labour do we find the things that are before us: but -the things that are in heaven who hath searched out[53]?_ - -Such passages as these have, I know, been sometimes brought to insult -and disgrace REASON, when employed the most soberly, and in her proper -office. But I quote them for no such purpose. I mean not to infer from -these testimonies, that we are not competent judges of the evidence -which is laid before us (for why, then, was it offered?); but, that -reason cannot tell us, _what_ evidence it was fit for Heaven to give -of its own councils and revelations. We may conjecture, _modestly_ -conjecture, without blame. Nay the wisest and best men, and even angels -themselves, have a reasonable _desire to look into_ these things: and -their _speculations_, if duly governed, are, no doubt, commendable -and useful. But we are not, upon this pretence, to dogmatize on such -matters. Much less, may we take upon us to reject a _well-attested_ -Revelation, a Revelation, that bears many characteristic marks, many -illustrious signatures and impresses of divinity, because this or that -circumstance, attending it, does not accord to our narrow views and -shallow surmises. In short, men would do well to remember that it is -no less a maxim of _reason_ than of Scripture, _that the things of God, -knoweth no man but the Spirit of God_[54]: a _maxim_, we should never -lose sight of, a moment, in our religious inquiries. - -But this, though an _important_ consideration, is a common one, and -I pursue it no farther. Let it suffice to have shewn, “That when, in -matters of religion, men indulge themselves in _fancying_ what evidence -would have been most convincing to them, and then erect such fancies -into _expectations_, they are, at best, employed very _idly_:” - -“That the worthiest apprehensions, we can frame of the divine -wisdom, and both the genius and letter of the Christian religion, -discountenance these expectations, as _improper and unreasonable_ to be -complied with:” - -And, “that, from the slightest acquaintance with ourselves, we must -needs confess them to be _presumptuous_.” - -The USE to be made of the whole is, _that men think soberly, as they -ought to think_[55]; and that, if ever their restless curiosity, or -some worse principle, impells them to make the demand in the text, -_shew us the Father_, they repress the rising folly by this just -reflexion, that they have no right, in their sense of the word, _to see -the Father_. - -Not but his infinite goodness hath vouchsafed to unveil himself so -far, as is abundantly sufficient to our conviction. But then we must -be content to _see him_ in that light, in which he has been graciously -pleased to _shew_ himself, not in that _unapproachable light_[56] in -which our madness requires to have him _shewn_ to us. - -The evidences of Christianity are not dispensed with a penurious hand: -but they lie dispersed in a very wide compass. They result from an -infinite number of considerations, each of which has its weight, and -all together _such_ moment, as _may be_, but is not easily resisted. -To collect and estimate these, much labour and patience is to be -endured; great parts of learning and genius are required; above all, an -upright and pure mind is demanded. If, conscious of our little worth -or ability, we find ourselves not equal to this task, let us adore -in silence, and with that humility which becomes us. To call out for -light, when we have enough to serve our purpose, is indeed _foolish_: -but to make this noisy demand, when we have previously blinded our -eyes, or have resolved to keep them shut, is something _more_ than -folly. - -After all, there is one way, in which the meanest of us may be indulged -in the high privilege of SEEING _the Father_, at least, in the _express -image_ of his Son. It is, by keeping the commandments. _He that hath my -commandments, and keepeth them_, says our Lord himself, _I will love -him, and will_ MANIFEST _myself to him_[57]. In other words, he will -see and acknowledge the _truth_ of our divine religion. - - - - -SERMON VII. - -PREACHED IN THE YEAR 1771. - -ST. JAMES, iv. 1. - - _From whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not - hence, even of your lusts that war in your members?_ - - -Interpreters have observed, that these questions refer to the state of -things, which then took place among the Jews, when this epistle was -addressed to them. For, about that time, they had grievous _wars and -fightings_ among themselves; every city, and every family, almost, of -this devoted people, not only in Judea, but in many other countries, -through which they were _scattered abroad_, being miserably distracted -and torn asunder by civil and domestic factions. - -This application, then, of the Apostle’s words to the Jews of his own -time, seems a just one. But we need look no further for a comment upon -them, than to that _hostile_ spirit, which too much prevails, at all -times, and under all circumstances, even among Christians themselves. - -The root of this bitterness, we are told, is in _the lusts, that war -in our members_: that is, there is, first, an insurrection of our -carnal appetites against the law of our minds; and, then, the contagion -spreads over families, neighbourhoods, and societies; over all those, -in short, with whom we have any concern, till the whole world, -sometimes, becomes a general scene of contention and disorder. - -For, ask the princes of this world, what prompts them to disturb -the peace of other states, and to involve their subjects in all the -horrors of war; and their answer, if they deign to give one, and if -it be ingenuous, must, commonly, be, _their lust of conquest and -dominion_. Ask the servants of those princes, what splits them into -parties and factions; and they can hardly avoid answering, or we can -answer for them, _their lust of wealth and power_. Ask the people, at -large, and under whatever denomination, what occasions their contempt -of authority, their disobedience to magistrates, their transgressions -of law, their cabals and tumults, their hatred, defamation, and -persecution of each other; and charity herself, for the most part, can -dictate no other reply for them to this question, than that they are -excited to all these excesses by _the lust of riot_ and misrule, or, -of, what they call, LIBERTY. - -But there is no end of pursuing this subject in all its applications -to particular instances. What we have most reason to lament, is, -that Christians not only _fight_ with each other, at the instigation -of their _lusts_, for their own carnal and corrupt ends; but that -they make the very _means_, which God has appointed to compose these -differences, the instruments of their animosity, and become outrageous -in their hostile treatment of each other, by the perversion of those -_principles_, which were intended to be its restraint. For if any thing -could appease this tumult among men, what more likely to do it, than -the _administration of civil justice_, and the _sacred institutions of -religion_? Yet, are even these provisions of divine and human wisdom, -for the support of peace and good order, defeated by our restless -and ingenious passions; and we contrive, to make RELIGION and LAW -themselves, subservient to the increase of that contention, which they -tend so naturally to keep out of the world. - -As this abuse, which inverts the order of things, and turns the -medicine of life into a deadly poison—as this abuse, I say, can never -be enough exposed; let me represent to you some part of the evils, -which this monstrous misuse of RELIGION and CIVIL JUSTICE has brought -upon mankind; as the last, and most striking effort of these malignant -_lusts_, from which, according to the holy Apostle, all our violations -of peace and charity are derived. - -And, FIRST, of the mischiefs, arising, from MISAPPLIED RELIGION. - -It were an ample field, this, should I undertake to follow the -ecclesiastical historian in all the abuses, which he so largely -displays. But my design is to _open the fountains_; to point, only, -to the _general causes_, from which those abuses have flowed. And the -chief of these _causes_ will not be overlooked, if we consider that -Christianity has been corrupted by _superstition_, by _policy_, and by -_sophistry_: for, in each of these ways, the _lusts_. of men have found -free scope for their activity; and have produced all those endless -discords and animosities, which have dishonoured the Christian world. - -1. SUPERSTITION began very early to make cruel inroads into the -religion of Jesus: _first_, by debasing its free spirit with the -servility of Jewish observances; next, in adulterating its simple -genius by the pomp of pagan ceremonies; and, afterwards, through a -long course of dark and barbarous ages, in disfiguring its _reasonable -service_[58] by every whimsy, which a gloomy or disturbed imagination -could suggest. - -The _lusts_ of men gave birth to these several perversions. The -obstinate _pride_ of the Jewish Christian was flattered in retaining -the abrogated ritual of the Law: the pagan proselyte gratified his -_vanity_, and love of splendor in religious ministrations, by dressing -out Christianity in all the paint and pageantry of his ancient worship: -and the miserable monk soothed his _fears_, or indulged his _spite_, -in busying himself with I know not what uncommanded and frivolous -expiations, or in torturing others with the rigours of a fruitless -penance. - -From these rank passions, sprung up _wars_ in abundance among -Christians. The Apostles themselves could not prevent their followers -from _fighting_ with each other, in the cause of _circumcision_. The -superstition of _days_[59], and of _images_[60], grew so fierce, -that the whole Christian world was, at different times, thrown into -convulsions by it. And the dreams of monkery excited every where the -most implacable feuds; which had, commonly, no higher object, than the -credit of their several _Rules_, or the honour of their _Patron-saints_. - -2. When superstition had thus set the world on fire, a godless POLICY -struck in, to encrease the combustion. - -The Christian religion, which had TRUTH for its object, could not but -require an assent from its professors to the doctrines, it revealed; -and, having GOD for its author, it, of course, exacted a compliance -with the few ritual observances, which he saw fit to ordain. But the -wantonness, or weakness, of the human mind, introducing a different -interpretation of those _doctrines_, and a different ministration of -those _rites_, the policy of princes would not condescend to tolerate -such unavoidable differences, but would inforce a rigid uniformity both -of sentiment and ceremony, as most conducive, in their ideas, to the -quiet and stability of their government. - -Again: the honour of prelates and churches seemed to be concerned -in all questions concerning place and jurisdiction; and, when these -questions arose, was to be maintained by every artifice, which an -interested and secular wisdom could contrive. - -The _lust_ of dominion, was plainly at the bottom of these infernal -machinations; and the fruit, it produced, was the most bloody and -unrelenting wars, massacres, and persecutions; with which the annals of -mankind are polluted and disgraced. But, - -3. To work up these two pests of humanity, _superstition_, and -_intolerance_, to all the fury, of which they are capable, unblessed -SCIENCE and perverted REASON lent their aid. - -For, the pride of knowledge begot innumerable portentous heresies: -which not only corrupted the divine religion of Jesus (obnoxious to -some taint from the impure touch of human reason, because _divine_), -but envenomed the hearts of its professors, against each other, by -infusing into them a bitter spirit of altercation and dispute. - -In these several ways, then, and from these causes, has our holy -religion been abused. The _lusts_ of men have turned the Gospel of -peace itself into an instrument of _war_: a misadventure, which could -not have taken place, had Christians but recollected and practised one -single precept of their master—_Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly -in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls_[61]. - -But the perversity of man could not be brought to learn this salutary -lesson; and so has fulfilled that memorable saying of our Lord, who, -foreseeing what abuses would hereafter be made of his charitable -system, declared of himself—_I came not to send peace, but a -sword_[62]. This prediction, at least, the enemies of our faith are -ready enough to tell us, has been amply verified, in the event. It has -been so: it was therefore inspired, because it was to be fulfilled. -But let them remember, withall, that not the genius of the Gospel, but -man’s incorrigible passions, acting in defiance of it, have given to -this prophecy its entire completion. - -I come now to represent to you, - -II. In the second place, how the _lusts_ of men have perverted CIVIL -JUSTICE, as well as Religion, into an instrument of contention and hate. - -The object of all civil, or municipal laws, is the conservation of -private peace, in the equal protection they afford to the property -and persons of men. Yet, how often have they been employed to other -purposes, _by those, who administer the Laws_; and _by those, for whose -sake they are administered_! - -1. In reading the history of mankind, one cannot but observe, with -indignation, how frequently the magistrate himself has turned the Law, -by which he governs, into an engine of oppression: sometimes, directing -it against the liberties of the state; and sometimes, against the -private rights of individuals. It were a small matter, perhaps, if he -only took advantage of a _severe_ law, or drew over an _ambiguous_ one, -to countenance his iniquitous purposes. But how oft has he embittered -the mildest, or tortured the plainest laws, by malignant glosses and -strained interpretations! gratifying, in both ways, his revenge, his -avarice, or his ambition; yet still in the forms of Law, and under the -mantle, as it were of public justice! - -Such abuses there _have_ been in most states, and, it may be, in our -own. God forbid, that, standing in this place, I should _accept the -persons of men, or give flattering titles unto any_[63]. But truth -obliges me to say, that there is, now, no colour for these complaints. -The administration of justice, on the part of the _Magistrate_, is so -pure, as to be the glory of the age, in which we live. The abuses all -arise from another quarter; and the contentious spirit is kept alive -and propagated by the lusts of private men. And what renders their -iniquity without excuse, is, that the very equity of those forms, in -which our laws are administered, is made the occasion of introducing -all these corruptions. - -2. To come to a _detail_ on this subject, might be thought improper. -Let me paint to you, then, in very _general_ terms, the disorders that -spring from this perversion of Law; and, to do it with advantage, let -me employ the expressive words of an ancient Pagan writer. - -The Roman governors of provinces, it is well known, had their times -for the more solemn administration of civil justice. Suppose, then, -one of these governors to have fixed his residence in the capital of -an Asiatic province, to have appointed a day for this solemnity, and, -with his Lictors, and other ensigns of authority about him, to be now -seated in the forum, or public place of the city; and consider, if the -following representation of an indifferent by-stander be not natural -and instructive. - -“See,” says the eloquent writer[64], whose words I only translate, “see -that vast and mixt multitude assembled together before you. You ask, -what has occasioned this mighty concourse of people. Are they met to -sacrifice to their country Gods, and to communicate with each other -in the sacred offices of their religion? Are they going to offer the -Lydian first-fruits to the Ascræan Jupiter? or, are they assembled -in such numbers to celebrate the rites of Bacchus, with the usual -festivity? Alas, no. Neither pious gratitude, nor festal joy, inspires -them. _One_ fierce unfriendly passion _only_ prevails; whose epidemic -rage has stirred up all Asia, and, as returning with redoubled force on -this stated anniversary, has driven these frantic crowds to the forum; -where they are going to engage in law-suits with each other, before the -Judges. An infinite number of causes, like so many confluent streams, -rush together, in one common tide, to the same tribunal. The passions -of the contending parties are all on fire; and the end of this curious -conflict is, the ruin of themselves and others. What fevers, what -calentures, what adust temperament of the body, or overflow of its -vicious humours, is to be compared to this plague of the distempered -mind? Were you to interrogate each cause (in the manner you examine a -witness) as it appears before this tribunal, and ask, WHENCE IT CAME? -the answer would be, an obstinate and self-willed spirit produced -_this_; a bitter rage of contention, _that_; and a lust of revenge and -injustice, _another_.” - -It is not to be doubted, that this rage of the contending parties -was inflamed, in those times, by mercenary agents and venal orators; -by men, who employed every fetch of cunning, and every artifice of -chicane, to perplex the clearest laws, to retard the decision of -the plainest cases, and to elude the sentence of the ablest judges. -Without some such management as this, the passions of the litigants -could not have been kept up in such heat and fury, but must gradually -have cooled, and died away of themselves. Add this, then, to the other -features, so well delineated, and you will have the picture of _ancient -litigation_ complete. - -And what think we, now, of this picture? Is there truth and nature in -it? Are we at all concerned in this representation; and do we discover -any resemblance to it in what is passing elsewhere, I mean in modern -times, and even in Christian societies? If we do, let us acknowledge -with honesty, but indeed with double shame, that, like the Pagans of -old, we have the art to pervert the best things to the worst purposes; -and that the _lusts_ of men are still predominant over the wisest and -most beneficent institutions of civil justice. - -Indeed, as to ourselves, the mild and equitable spirit of our laws -might be enough, one would think, to inspire another temper: but -when we further consider the divine spirit of the Gospel, by which -we pretend to be governed, and the end of which is _charity_, our -prodigious abuse of _both_ must needs cover us with confusion. - -The instruction, then, from what has been said, is this: That, since, -as St. James observes, all our _wars and fightings_ with each other -proceed only from our _lusts_, and since _these_ have even prevailed -to that degree as to corrupt the two best gifts, which God, in his -mercy, ever bestowed on mankind, that is, to make _Religion_ and _Law_ -subservient to our bitter animosities; since all this, I say, has been -made appear in the preceding comment on the sacred text, it becomes -us, severally, to consider what our part has been in the disordered -scene, now set before us: what care we have taken to check those unruly -passions, which are so apt, by indulgence, to tyrannize over us; and, -if this care has been less than it ought to have been, what may be -the consequence of our neglect. We should, in a word, _take heed, how -we bite and devour one another_; not only, as the Apostle admonishes, -_that we be not consumed one of another_; but lest, in the end, we -incur the chastisement of that LAW, we have so industriously perverted, -and the still sorer chastisement of that RELIGION, we have so impiously -abused. - - - - -SERMON VIII. - -PREACHED APRIL 29, 1770. - -1 TIM. i. 5. - - _The end of the Commandment is charity, out of a pure heart, and of - a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned._ - - -The Apostle, in the preceding verse, had warned Timothy against -_giving heed to fables and endless genealogies_: by FABLES, meaning -certain Jewish fictions and traditions applied to the explication -of theological questions, and not unlike the tales of the pagan -mythologists, contrived by them to cover the monstrous stories of their -Gods; and, by GENEALOGIES, the derivation of Angelic and Spiritual -natures[65], according to a fantastic system, invented by the Oriental -philosophers, and thence adopted by some of the Grecian Sects. These -_fables and genealogies_ (by which the Jewish and Pagan converts to -Christianity had much adulterated the faith of the Gospel) the Apostle -sets himself to expose and reprobate, as producing nothing but curious -and fruitless disputations; being indeed, as he calls them, _endless_, -or interminable[66]; because, having no foundation in the revealed word -of God, they were drawn out, varied, and multiplied at pleasure by -those, who delighted in such fanatical visions. - -Then follows the text.—_The end of the Commandment, is_ CHARITY: -_out of a_ PURE HEART: _and of a_ GOOD CONSCIENCE; _and of_ FAITH -UNFEIGNED—As if the Apostle had said, “I have cautioned you against -this pernicious folly: but, if ye must needs deal in the way of -Mythology and Genealogy, I will tell you how ye may employ your -ingenuity to more advantage. Take Christian _Charity_, for your theme: -_mythologize_ that capital Grace of your profession; or, deduce the -_parentage_ of it, according to the steps, which I will point out -to you. For it springs immediately out of _a pure heart_; which, -itself, is derived from _a good conscience_; as that, again, is the -genuine offspring or emanation of _faith unfeigned_. In this way, -ye may gratify your mythologic or genealogical vein, innocently and -usefully[67]; for ye may learn yourselves, and teach others, how to -acquire and perfect that character, which is the great object of your -religion, and _the end of the Commandment_.” - -Let us, then, if you please, attend to this genealogical deduction of -the learned Apostle; and see, if the descent of Christian charity be -not truly and properly investigated by him. - -I. CHARITY, says he, is _out of a pure heart_: that is, it proceeds -from a heart, free from the habits of sin, and unpolluted by corrupt -affections. - -To see with what propriety, the Apostle makes a pure heart the -_parent_ of charity, we are to reflect, that this benevolent temper, -which inclines us to wish and do well to others, is the proper growth -and produce, indeed, of the human mind, but of the human mind in -its native and original integrity. To provide effectually for the -maintenance of the social virtues, it hath pleased God to implant -in man, not only the power of reason, which enables him to see the -connexion between his own happiness and that of others, but also -certain instincts and propensities, which make him _feel_ it, and, -without reflexion, incline him to take part in foreign interests. For, -among the other wonders of our make, this is _one_, that we are so -formed as, whether we will or no, _to rejoice with them that rejoice, -and weep with them that weep_[68]. But now this sympathetic tenderness, -which nature hath put into our hearts for the concerns of each other, -may be much impaired by habitual neglect, or selfish gratifications. -If, instead of listening to those calls of nature, which, on the -entrance into life, are incessantly, but gently, urging us to acts of -generosity, we turn a deaf ear to them, and, charmed by the suggestions -of self-love, yield up ourselves to the dominion of the grosser -appetite, it cannot be but that the love of others, however natural to -us, must decline, and become, at length, a feeble motive to action; -or, which amounts to the same thing, be constantly overpowered by the -undue prevalence of other principles. Thus we may see, how ambition, -avarice, sensuality, or any other of the more selfish passions, tends -directly, by indulgence, to obstruct the growth of _charity_; and how -favourable an uncorrupt mind is to the production and maturity of this -divine virtue. - -But, further, the impurities of the heart do not only hinder the -exertions of _benevolence_; they have even a worse effect, they cause -us to pervert and misapply it. It is not, perhaps, so easy a matter, -as some imagine, to divest ourselves of all attachment to the interest -of our fellow-creatures. But, by a long misuse of our faculties, we -may come in time to mistake the objects of _true_ interest; and so -be carried, by the motives of benevolence itself, to do irreparable -mischief to those we would most befriend and oblige. This seems to -be the case of those most abandoned of all sinners, who take pains -to corrupt others, and not only do wicked things themselves, _but -have pleasure in those who do them_[69]. All that can be said for -these unhappy victims of their own lusts, is, that their _perverted -benevolence_ prompts them to encourage others in that course of life, -from which, if it were rightly exercised, they would endeavour, with -all their power, to divert them. - -So necessary it is, that charity should be out of _a pure heart_! It is -polluted in its very birth, unless it proceed from an honest mind: it -is spurious and illegitimate, if it be not so descended. - -II. The next step in this line of moral ancestry, is a GOOD CONSCIENCE: -which phrase is not to be taken here in the negative sense, and as -equivalent only to a _pure heart_; but as expressing a further, a -_positive_ degree of goodness. For so we find it explained elsewhere; -_having_, says St. Peter, a GOOD CONSCIENCE, _that whereas they -speak evil of you, as_ EVIL DOERS, _they may be ashamed that falsely -accuse your_ GOOD CONVERSATION _in Christ Jesus: for it is better, -if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for_ WELL DOING, _than for -evil doing_[70]. Whence, by _a good conscience_, we are authorized -to understand a mind, _conscious to itself of beneficent actions_. -And thus the Apostle’s intention will be, to insinuate to us, that, -to be free from _depraved affections_, we must be actively virtuous; -and that we must be _zealous_ in good works, if we would attain to -that _purity_ of heart, which is proper to beget the genuine virtue of -Christian charity. - -For, we may conceive of the matter, thus. A _good conscience_, or a -mind enured to right action, is most likely, and best enabled, to shake -off all corrupt partialities; and, as being intent on the strenuous -exercise of its duty, in particular instances, to acquire, in the -end, that tone of virtue, which strengthens, at once, and refines the -affections, till they expand themselves into an universal good-will. -Thus we see that, without this moral discipline, we should scarce -possess, or not long retain, a _pure heart_; and that the heart, _if -pure_, would yet be inert and sluggish, and unapt to entertain that -prompt and ready benevolence, which true charity implies. - -So that an active practical virtue, as serving both to purify and -invigorate the kind affections, has deservedly a place given to it in -this lineal descent of Christian love. But, - -III. The Apostle rises higher yet in this genealogical scale of -charity, and acquaints us that a _good conscience_, or a course of -active positive virtue, is not properly and lawfully descended, unless -it proceed from a FAITH UNFEIGNED, that is, a sincere undissembled -belief of the Christian religion. - -And the reason is plain. For there is no dependance on virtuous -practice; we cannot expect that it should either be steady, or lasting, -unless the principle, from which it flows, be something nobler and more -efficacious, than considerations taken from the beauty, propriety, -and usefulness of virtue itself. Our active powers have need to be -sustained and strengthened by energies of a higher kind, than those -which mere philosophy supplies. We shall neither be able to bear up -against the difficulties of a good life, nor to stand out against the -temptations, which an evil world is always ready to throw in our way, -but by placing a firm trust on the promises of God, and by keeping our -minds fixed on the glorious hopes and assurances of the Gospel. And -_experience_ may satisfy us, that practical virtue has no stability or -consistency, without these supports. - -Besides, considering a _good conscience_, or a moral practical conduct, -with an eye to its influence on a _pure heart_, till it issue in -complete _charity_, we cannot but see how the Christian faith is -calculated to direct its progress, and secure the great end proposed. -For the whole system of our divine religion, which hath its foundation -in _grace_; its _precepts_, which breathe nothing but love and amity; -its _doctrines_, which only present to us, under different views, -the transcendent goodness of God in the great work of redemption; -its _history_, which records the most engaging instances of active -benevolence; all this cannot but exceedingly inspirit our affections, -and carry them out in a vigorous and uniform prosecution of the -subordinate _means_, which are to produce that last perfection of our -nature, a pure and permanent love of mankind. For at every step we -cannot but see the _end of the commandment_, so perpetually held out -to us, and derive a fresh inducement from _faith_, to accomplish and -obtain it. - -Indeed, to produce this effect, our _faith_, as the Apostle adds, must -be UNFEIGNED: that is, it must be nourished and intimately rooted in -the heart; we must not only yield a general assent to the sacred truths -of our religion, we must embrace them with earnestness and zeal, we -must rely upon them with an unshaken confidence and resolution. But -all this will be no difficulty to those who derive their _faith_ -from its proper source, that is, who make a diligent study of the -holy scriptures: where _only_ we learn what the _true_ faith (which -will ever be most friendly to virtue) is; and whence we shall _best_ -derive those motives and considerations, which are proper to excite and -fortify this principle in us. - -And thus, that Charity, which a _pure mind_ gives the liberty of -exerting, and which a _good conscience_ manifests and at the same time -improves, will, further, be so sublimed and perfected by the influence -of divine _faith_, as will render it the sovereign guide of life, and -the pride and ornament of humanity. - -Or, to place the descent of Charity, in its true and natural order, it -must spring, first, from an _unfeigned faith_ in the Gospel of Jesus: -that faith must then produce, and shew itself in, a _good conscience_: -and that conscience must be thoroughly purged from all selfish and -disorderly _affections_: whence, lastly, the celestial offspring -of _Charity_ has its birth, and comes forth in all the purity and -integrity of its nature. - -FROM THIS lineage of Christian Charity, thus deduced, many instructive -lessons may be drawn. We may learn to distinguish the true and -genuine, from pretended Charity: we have, hence, the surest way of -discerning the spirits of other men, and of trying our own: we may -correct some popular mistakes concerning the virtue of charity; and -shall best comprehend the force and significancy of the several -commendations, which the inspired writers, in many places, and in very -general terms, bestow upon it. - -Let me conclude this discourse with an instance of such instruction, -respecting each of those heads, which the order of the text hath -afforded the opportunity of considering. - -And, _first_, from the necessity of a PURE HEART, we are instructed -what to think of the benevolence of those men, who, though enslaved to -their own selfish passions, are seldom the most backward to make large -pretences to this virtue. But, be their pretences what they will, we -know with certainty, that, if the heart be impure, its charity must be -defective. It must, of course, be weak and partial; confined in its -views, and languid in its operations; in a word, a faint and powerless -quality, and not that generous, diffusive, universal principle, which -alone deserves the exalted name of _Charity_. - -We conclude, also, on the same grounds, that the hatred of vice is no -breach of Christian charity. This charity is required to flow from a -_pure heart_. But there is not in nature a stronger antipathy, than -between _purity_, and _impurity_. So that we might as well expect light -and darkness, heat and cold, to associate, as spotless virtue not to -take offence at its opposite. I know, indeed, that the hatred due to -the vices of men, is too easily transferred to their persons. But that -charity, which is lineally descended from _faith_, will see to make a -difference between them; and while it feels a quick resentment against -_sin_, will conceive, nay will, by that very resentment, demonstrate, a -tender concern for _sinners_, for whom Christ died. - -_Secondly_, from the rank, which a GOOD CONSCIENCE holds in this family -of love, we are admonished to avoid the mistake of those, who are -inclined to rest in negative virtue, as the _end of the commandment_; -and who account their charity full and complete, when it keeps them -only from intending, or doing mischief to others. The Apostle, on the -contrary, gives us to understand, that its descent is irregular, if -it be not allied to active positive virtue; such as takes a pleasure -in kind offices, is zealous to promote the welfare of others, and is -fertile in _good works_. And this conclusion is the more necessary to -be inforced upon us, since, in a world like this, where vice is sure to -be active enough, the interests of society will not permit that Charity -should be idle. - -Lastly, from the lineal descent of Charity from FAITH, we must needs -infer, that infidelity is not a matter of that indifference to social -life, which many careless persons suppose it to be. It is the glory of -our faith, that it terminates in charity. Every article of our creed is -a fresh incitement to good works: in so much that, he who understands -his religion most perfectly, and is most firmly persuaded of it, can -scarce fail of approving himself the best man, as well as the best -_Christian_. And this, again, is a consideration, which should affect -all those who profess to have any concern for the interests of society -and moral virtue. - -Thus it appears, how instructive the doctrine of the text is, and how -usefully, as well as elegantly, the Apostle sets before us, in this -short genealogical table, the proper ancestry of Charity: in which -_Faith_, as the ultimate progenitor, begets an _active virtue_; and -that, impregnating the _heart_ with pure affections, produces at -length this divine offspring of _Christian love_. - -If we had found this mythological fiction in Xenophon or Plato, we -should have much admired the instruction conveyed in it. Let it not -abate our reverence for this moral lesson, that it comes from an -Apostle of Jesus, and, if not dressed out in the charms of human -eloquence, has all the authority of truth and divine inspiration to -recommend it to us. - - - - -SERMON IX. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 9, 1766. - -ROM. xii. 10. - -—_In honour preferring one another._ - - -It is much to the honour of the inspired writers, because it shews -them to be no enthusiasts, that, with all their zeal for the revealed -doctrines of the Gospel, they never forget or overlook the common -duties of _humanity_; those duties, which Reason itself, a prior -Revelation, had made known to the wiser part of mankind. - -Nay, which is more remarkable, they sometimes condescend to enforce -what are called the _lesser moralities_[71]; that is, those inferiour -duties, which, not being of absolute necessity to the support of human -society, are frequently overlooked by other moralists, and yet, as -contributing very much to the comfortable enjoyment of it, are of -_real_ moment, and deserve a suitable regard. - -The text is an instance of this sort—_in honour preferring one -another_—the NATURE, and GROUND, and right APPLICATION, of which duty, -it is my present purpose to explain. - -1. The general NATURE of this virtue consists in a disposition to -express our good will to others by exteriour testimonies of respect; -to consult the credit and honour of those we converse with, though at -some expence of our own vanity and self-love. It implies a readiness to -prevent them in the customary decencies of conversation; a facility to -give way to their reasonable pretensions, and even to abate something -of our own just rights. It requires us to suppress our petulant claims -of superiority; to decline all frivolous contests and petty rivalries; -to moderate our own demands of pre-eminence and priority; and, in a -word, to please others, rather than ourselves. - -It is an easy, social, conciliating virtue; a virtue made up of -_humility_ and _benevolence_; the _former_, inclining us not to think -more highly of ourselves than we ought; and the _latter_, to give our -Christian brother an innocent satisfaction when we can. - -And our obligation to the practice of this virtue is FOUNDED, - -II. On the clearest reasons, taken both from the _nature of man_, and -the _genius of our holy Religion_. - -And, FIRST, from _the nature of man_. - -Among the various principles, some of them, in appearance, discordant -and contradictory, which constitute our common nature, one of the -first to take our attention is, “A conscious sense of dignity;” an -opinion of self-consequence, which mixes itself with all our thoughts -and deliberations; prompting us to entertain lofty sentiments of our -own worth, and aspiring to something like superiority and dominion -over other men. This principle, which appears very early, and is -strongest in the more generous dispositions, is highly necessary to a -being formed for virtuous action; and naturally leads to the exertion -of such qualities as are proper to benefit society, as well as to gain -that ascendency in it, to which we pretend. It is the spring, indeed, -of every commendable emulation; puts in act all our better and nobler -faculties; and gives nerves to that labor and industry, by which every -worthy accomplishment is attained. - -But now this principle (so natural and useful), when it is not -checked by others, but is suffered to take the lead and predominate -on all occasions, undisciplined and uncontrolled, easily grows into -a very offensive and hurtful quality: _offensive_, because it is now -exerted to the humiliation of every other, who is actuated by the same -principle; and _hurtful_, because, in this undue degree, it counteracts -the very purpose, _the good of human society_, for which it was -designed. - -This quality we know by the name of PRIDE. The other moderate degree -of self-esteem, which is allowable and virtuous, seems not (I suppose, -from its rare appearance under that form) to have acquired in our -language a distinct name. - -To _Pride_, then, the pernicious and too common issue of self-love, it -became necessary, that some other principle should be opposed. And such -a principle, as is proper to correct the malignity of pride, we find in -that _philanthropy_, which, by an instinct of the same common nature, -disposeth us to consult the happiness, and to conciliate to ourselves -the good will and affection, of mankind. This benevolent movement of -the mind is, further, quickened by the mutual interest all men have -in the exercise of it. For Pride is disarmed by submission; and, by -receding from our own pretensions, we take the most likely way to -moderate those of other men. Thus, the generous affections are kept in -play; reciprocal civilities are maintained; and, by the habit of _each -preferring other_, which prudence would advise, if instinct did not -inspire, the peace of society is preserved, its joy encreased, and even -our vanity, so far as it is a just and natural affection, gratified and -indulged. - -The reason of the Apostolic precept is, then, laid deep in the -constitution of human nature; which is so wonderfully formed, that its -_perfection_ requires the reconciliation of contrary qualities; and -its _happiness_ results from making benevolence itself subservient to -self-love. - -2. If, from the philosophic consideration of man, we turn to the -_genius of the Gospel_, we shall there find this conclusion of natural -reason strengthened and confirmed by evangelical motives. - -Benevolence, which, in the Gospel, takes the name of _Charity_, hath -a larger range in this new dispensation, than in that of nature. The -doctrine, and still more the example, of Jesus, extends the duty of -humility and self-denial; requires us to make ampler sacrifices of -self-love, and to give higher demonstrations of good-will to others, -than mere reason could well demand or enforce. He, that was so far -from _seeking his own_, that he _emptied himself of all his glory_, -and stooped from heaven to earth, for the sake of man, hath a right -to expect, from his followers, a more than ordinary effort to conform -to so divine a precedent, a peculiar attention to the mutual benefits -and concerns of each other. It is but little that we keep within -some decent bounds our aspiring tempers and inclinations: we are now -to _subject_ ourselves to our Christian brethren; to renounce even -our innocent and lawful pretensions; and to forego every natural -gratification, when the purposes of Christian Charity call us to this -arduous task. - -For the Gospel, it is to be observed, has taken us out of the loose -and general relation of men, and has bound us together in the closer -and more endearing tie of _Brethren_: it exalts the good-will, we -were obliged to bear to the species, into the affection, which -consanguinity inspires for the individuals of a private family. The -Apostle, therefore, in the words preceding the text, bids us—_be -kindly affectioned one to another with_ BROTHERLY LOVE—not, with the -_love_, that unites one _man_ with another[72], which is the highest -pretension of mere morality; but with the _love_, that knits together -natural _brethren_[73], which is the proper boast and character of -evangelical love. The words of the original have a peculiar energy[74]. -They express that instinctive warmth of affection, which nature puts -into our hearts for our nearest kindred, such as communicate with us by -the participation of one common blood. - -So that the same compliances, we should make with _their_ inclinations, -the same preference, we should give to _their_ humour and interest -above our own, should now be extended and exercised towards all -Christians; and that principle of an ardent affection, by which we are -led to make the most chearful condescensions to our _natural_ brother, -should work in us the same generous consideration of our _spiritual_ -brother, _for whom Christ died_. - -Having explained the _nature_ of this duty, and the _grounds_, both in -reason and religion, on which it rests, it now remains, - -III. To provide for the RIGHT APPLICATION of it in practice. And here, -in truth, the whole difficulty lies. - -It is evident enough, I suppose, from what has been said, That the -moral and Christian duty of _preferring one another in honour_, -respects only social peace and charity, and terminates in the good and -edification of our Christian brother. Its use is, to soften the minds -of men, and to draw them from that savage rusticity, which engenders -many vices, and discredits the virtues themselves. But when men had -experienced the benefit of this complying temper, and further saw the -ends, not of charity only, but of SELF-INTEREST, that might be answered -by it; they considered no longer its just purpose and application, -but stretched it to that officious sedulity, and extreme servility of -adulation, which we too often observe and lament in polished life. - -Hence, that infinite attention and consideration, which is so rigidly -exacted, and so duly paid, in the commerce of the world: hence, that -prostitution of mind, which leaves a man no will, no sentiment, -no principle, no character; all which disappear under the uniform -exhibition of good-manners: hence, those insidious arts, those studied -disguises, those obsequious flatteries, nay, those affected freedoms, -in a word, those multiplied and nicely-varied forms of insinuation -and address; the direct aim of which may be to acquire the fame of -politeness and good-breeding; but the certain effect, to corrupt every -virtue, to sooth every vanity, and to inflame every vice, of the human -heart. - -These fatal mischiefs introduce themselves under the pretence -and semblance of that _humanity_, which the text encourages and -enjoins. But the _genuine_ virtue is easily distinguished from the -_counterfeit_, and by the following plain _signs_. - -1. TRUE POLITENESS is modest, unpretending, and generous. It appears as -little as may be; and, when it does a courtesy, would willingly conceal -it. It chuses silently to forego its own claims, not officiously to -withdraw them. It engages a man to _prefer his neighbour to himself_, -because he really esteems him; because he is tender of his reputation; -because he thinks it more manly, more Christian, to descend a little -himself, than to degrade another—It respects, in a word, the _credit -and estimation_ of his neighbour. - -The mimic of this amiable virtue, FALSE POLITENESS, is, on the -other hand, ambitious, servile, timorous. It affects popularity; is -solicitous to please, and to be taken notice of. The man of this -character does not offer, but obtrude, his civilities: _because_ he -would merit by this assiduity; because, in despair of winning regard -by any worthier qualities, he would be sure to make the most of this; -and, lastly, because of all things he would dread, by the omission of -any punctilious observance, to give offence.—In a word, this sort -of politeness respects, for its immediate object, the _favour and -consideration_ of our neighbour. - -2. Again: the man, who governs himself by the _spirit_ of the Apostle’s -precept, expresses his _preference of another_ in such a way as -is worthy of himself: in all innocent compliances, in all honest -civilities, in all decent and manly condescensions. - -On the contrary, the man of the world, who rests in the _letter_ of -this command, is regardless of the _means_, by which he conducts -himself. He respects neither his own dignity, nor that of human -nature. Truth, reason, virtue, all are equally betrayed by this supple -impostor. He assents to the errors, though the most pernicious; he -applauds the follies, though the most ridiculous; he sooths the vices, -though the most flagrant, of other men. He never contradicts, though -in the softest form of insinuation; he never disapproves, though by -a respectful silence; he never condemns, though it be only by a good -example. In short, he is sollicitous for nothing, but by some studied -devices to hide from others, and, if possible, to palliate to himself, -the grossness of his illiberal adulation. - -3. Lastly, we may be sure, that the _ultimate_ ENDS, for which these -different _objects_ are pursued, and by so different _means_, must also -lie wide of each other. - -Accordingly, the truly polite man would, by all proper testimonies of -respect, promote the credit and estimation of his neighbour, _because_ -he sees, that, by this generous consideration of each other, the peace -of the world is in a good degree preserved; _because_ he knows that -these mutual attentions prevent animosities, soften the fierceness of -men’s manners, and dispose them to all the offices of benevolence and -charity; _because_, in a word, the interests of society are best served -by this conduct; and _because_ he understands it to be his duty, _to -love his neighbour_. - -The falsely polite, on the contrary, are anxious by all means whatever, -to procure the favour and consideration of those they converse with, -_because_ they regard ultimately nothing more than their private -interest; _because_ they perceive, that their own selfish designs are -best carried on by such practices: in a word, _because_ they _love -themselves_. - -Thus we see, the genuine virtue consults the honour of others by worthy -means, and for the noblest purpose; the counterfeit, sollicits their -favour by dishonest compliances, and for the basest end. - -By such evident marks are these two characters distinguished from each -other! and so impossible it is, without a wilful perversion of our -faculties, to mistake in the application of the Apostle’s precept! - -It follows, you see, from what has been said, “that integrity of heart, -as Solomon long since observed, is the best guide in morals[75].” We -may impose upon others by a shew of civility; but the deception goes no -farther. We cannot help knowing, in our own case, if we be ingenuous, -when this virtue retains its nature, and when it degenerates into the -vice that usurps its name. To conclude, an honest man runs no risk in -being polite. Let us only _respect_ ourselves; and we shall rarely do -amiss, when, as the Apostle advises, _in honour we prefer one another_. - - - - -SERMON X. - -PREACHED MAY 6, 1770. - -JOHN xiii. 8. - - —_Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with - me._ - - -To comprehend the full meaning of these words (which, as we shall -see, are of no small importance) we must carefully attend to the -circumstances of the history, which gave occasion to them. - -The chapter begins thus—_Now before the feast of the Passover, when -Jesus knew that his hour was come, that he should depart out of this -world to the Father, having loved his own, which were in the world, he -loved them to the end._— - -We are prepared by these words to expect something, on the part of our -Lord, very expressive of his love for his Disciples. - -The _season_, too, is critical, and must excite our attention: _it was -before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour was -come, that he should depart out of this world to the Father_; in other -words, just before his crucifixion. - -There is, indeed, some difficulty in fixing the precise time, when -the transaction, now to be related, happened. I take no part in the -disquisition, because it is not material to my purpose, and would -divert me too much from it. It is enough to say, that it was at most, -but the evening before the Paschal supper was celebrated, and therefore -but two days before Jesus suffered. - -The history proceeds—“_And supper being ended_ (or rather, as the text -should have been translated, _the time of supper being come_[76]) _the -Devil having now put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, -to betray him, Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into -his hands, and that he was come from God and went to God; he riseth -from supper, and laid aside his garments, and took a towel and girded -himself. After that, he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash -the Disciples feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was -girded._” - -Thus far all is clear. Jesus condescended to _wash the feet of his -Disciples_; a ministry, very common in the East, and usually performed -by servants, in discharge of their duty towards their masters, or, by -inferiors, at least, in testimony of respect towards their superiors; -as is abundantly plain from many instances. - -This then was ONE end of this _washing_. Our Saviour meant it as a -lesson of humility and condescension to his Disciples. But was it the -ONLY, or the _chief_ end? That is the point we are now to consider. - -Let it be remembered, then, that nothing was more familiar with the -Jews, than to convey an information to others, especially if that -information was of importance, by natural, rather than artificial -signs, I mean by _deeds_, rather than _words_; as every one knows, -who has but dipped into the history and writings of the Old and New -Testament. The transaction before us, if understood _only_ as a lesson -of humility, is a lesson conveyed to the Disciples in this form[77]. - -Now, this way of _information by action_ was occasionally made to serve -TWO contrary purposes: either to give more force and emphasis to an -instruction; or, to cloathe it with some degree of obscurity, or even -ambiguity. For _actions_, speaking to the eye, when the purpose of -them is by any means clearly ascertained, convey the most lively and -expressive information: on the other hand, when it is not, they are -somewhat obscure, one thing being to be collected by us from another: -or the information is even ambiguous, as the action may signify more -things than one. - -Sometimes, the primary sense is declared, or easily understood; while, -yet, a secondary sense, a less apparent one, but more momentous, is, -also, intended. - -This, upon inquiry, may be the case before us. Christ’s _washing the -feet of his Disciples_ obviously conveys this instruction, which is -asserted, too, in express words—that, _as he, their Lord and master, -washed their feet, so they ought also to wash one another’s feet_[78]. -But _another_, and far more important, instruction _may_ be conveyed -in this action, though it be not so fully and explicitly declared. It -_may_, I say, be conveyed: from laying all circumstances together, -we shall be able to form a judgment, whether it were, indeed, in the -Agent’s _intention_ to convey it. - -_First_, as I said, the narrative of this transaction (which, take it -as you will, was clearly designed to be an _information by action_) is -prefaced in a very extraordinary manner. _Jesus, knowing that his hour -was come—knowing too that the Father had given all things into his -hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God_, proceeded—to -do what? Why, to give his disciples a lesson of humility and charity, -in washing their feet. The Lesson, no doubt, was important; and -becoming the character of their divine master. But does it rise up to -those _ideas_ of importance, which we are prepared to entertain of an -action, performed at such a time, and so awfully introduced? _His hour -was come—the Father had given all things into his hands—he came from -God, and was now going to God._ All this announces something beyond -and above a common lecture of morality; something, which might be a -suitable close to the instructions of such a teacher. - -Let us see, _next_, how the action is received. One of the disciples, -Peter, surprized at his Lord’s condescension, says very naturally, -_Lord, dost thou wash my feet?_ Jesus, to remove his scruples, replies, -_What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter_. The -words are ambiguous, and may mean, “Thou shalt know, _immediately_, -from the explication I am about to give of this action;” or, “thou -shalt know _hereafter_, in due time, and by other means,” what the -purport of it is. Still Peter, not satisfied with this answer, but -confounded at the apparent indignity of Christ’s condescension, replies -resolutely, _Thou shalt never wash my feet_. This resistance was to be -overcome, that the _information_, whatever it was, might take place, -by the performance of that which was the vehicle of it. Jesus answers, -therefore, more directly and solemnly, IF I WASH THEE NOT, THOU HAST -NO PART WITH ME—Which words, whether understood by Peter or not, were -clearly seen to have _some_ meaning of the last concern to him; and, -struck with this apprehension, he submits. - -But what! taking these oracular words, in the sense only in which Jesus -thought fit to explain them, we hardly see the force and propriety of -them. For, had Peter _no part with Jesus_, that is, was he incapable of -receiving any benefit from him, unless he had this ceremony of washing, -performed upon him, when that ceremony had no further use or meaning, -than to convey a moral lesson? If he had not learnt _this_ lesson from -Christ, he might have learnt many _others_: or, he might have learnt -_this_, some other way: and taking it in either light, he might still -be said to _have some part_ with Jesus, though he had not been _washed_ -by him. - -The true import, then, of these enigmatic words, and of the whole -transaction which is here recorded, begins to appear, and is further -opened by the sequel of Peter’s conversation with Jesus. For, -understanding, that this _ablution_ was, some way so necessary to him, -Peter subjoins, _Not my feet only, but also my hands and my head_. -Jesus saith to him, _He that is washed, needeth not, save to wash his -feet, and is clean every whit; and ye are clean, but not all; for he -knew who should betray him: therefore said he, Ye are not all clean_. - -It was, we see, the uncleanness of sin, or the _filth of an evil -conscience_, which was to be taken away by this washing. More than a -single moral lesson, how excellent soever, was, therefore, couched in -this act; indeed, the necessity and efficacy of CERTAIN MEANS, by which -mankind were, in general, to be cleansed from sin, was that which was -ultimately and mainly signified by it. He that was _thus washed, was -clean every whit_; and the _information_ of this benefit being the end -of the washing, it was enough if that was conveyed by washing any one -part. - -You see at length to what all this tends. Jesus, knowing the secret -treachery of Judas, and, by the divine spirit which was in him, -foreseeing the destined effect of that treachery; knowing, that he -was now, forthwith, to suffer death upon the cross, the purpose, for -which he came from God, and for the execution of which he only waited -before he returned to him; considering, withal, the immense benefit, -which was to accrue to mankind from his voluntary devotion of himself -to this death, and that the eternal Father, for the sake of it, _had -given all things into his hands_, had given him the power to redeem all -the sons of Adam from the vassalage of sin and death, by virtue of that -BLOOD which he was now to pour out upon the cross, as a propitiation -for them; Jesus, I say, foreseeing and considering all this, chose -this critical season, when _his hour was now come_, to signify by the -ceremony of washing his disciples feet[79], the efficacy and value of -his own precious blood, by which alone they, and all mankind, were to -have all their sins purged and washed away for ever. - -This was apparently the momentous instruction, which it was our Lord’s -purpose to convey in this transaction. He would, _first_, shew that -we were to be washed in his blood; and _then_, subordinately, that we -were to follow his example in a readiness _to do as he had done_; that -is, not only to _wash_ each other, but, emblematically still, to lay -down our lives and pour out our blood, if need be, for the sake of the -brethren. All circumstances concur to assure us, that such was the -real secret intent of this mysterious washing; and thus, at length, we -understand the full purport of those words—_If I wash thee not, thou -hast no part with me_[80]. - -If it be still said, that Jesus explains his own purpose differently, -it is enough to reply, that these emblematic actions were generally -significative of more things, than one; and that the manner of Jesus -was, on other occasions, to enforce that instruction, which was not -the primary one in his intention[81]: the reason of which conduct was -founded in this rule, so constantly observed by him, of conveying -information to his disciples, only, _as they were able to bear -it_[82]. In a word, he gave them many instructions, and _this_, among -the rest, darkly and imperfectly, because they could not then bear a -stronger light; but yet with such clearness as might, afterwards, let -them into his purpose; leaving it to the Holy Ghost (whose peculiar -province it was) to illuminate their minds, in due time; to reveal -all that had been obscurely intimated; and to open the full meaning -of his discourses and actions, as well as to _bring them all to their -remembrance_[83]. - -From this memorable part of the Gospel-history, thus opened and -explained, we may draw some important conclusions. - -1. FIRST, we learn, if the comment here given be a just one, That _the -blood of Christ_ (so an Apostle hath expressed himself) _cleanseth -us from all sin_[84]: I mean, that the death of Christ was a true, -proper, and real propitiation for our sins; and not a mere figure, or -tropical form of speech; as too many, who call themselves Christians, -conceive of it. For the pertinence and propriety of the representative -action, performed by our Lord, is founded in this supposition, “That -the blood of Christ was necessary to our purification, and that, but -for our being _washed in his blood_[85], we should be yet in our sins.” -Jesus himself, in explaining this transaction, so far as he thought -fit to explain it, confines us to this idea. For in this sense, only, -is it true—_that we, who are washed, are clean every whit_—and, that -_unless we are washed by Christ, we have no part with him_. - -Such, then, is the information given us in this ceremony of _washing -the disciples feet_; and not in this, only. For, besides the present -emblematic act, performed by our Lord, for the special benefit of his -disciples, the TWO Sacraments, it is to be observed, were purposely -instituted, for the general use of his church, to hold forth to us an -image of his _efficacious blood_, poured out for us: the sacrament -of BAPTISM, by the reference it had (like this act) to the typical -_washings_ of the Law; and the sacrament of the LORD’S SUPPER, as -referring, in like manner, to the typical _sacrifices_ of that -dispensation. Of such moment, in the view of our Lord himself, was this -doctrine of _propitiation_! And so careful, or rather anxious, was -he, that this consolatory idea of _redemption through his_ BLOOD[86] -(suggested in so many ways, and in so striking a manner) should be -always present to us! - -Nor were his Apostles (let me, further, remark) less intent in -prosecuting this design. For they insist every-where, and with a -singular emphasis—that _Christ, our passover, is sacrificed for -us_[87]—and that _we are_ WASHED, _and sanctified, and saved, by the -sprinkling of the blood of Jesus_[88]. - -Go now, then, and say, that the _blood_ of Christ is only a metaphor, -and means no more in the mouth of a Christian, than it might be -supposed to do in that of an honest heathen, who should say, That he -had been _saved_, or benefited in a moral way, by the _blood_, that -is, the exemplary death, of Socrates!—When we speak of its _washing_ -away sin, it is true, we use the term _washing_ metaphorically (for -_sin_ is not literally washed): but the scriptures are unintelligible, -and language itself has no meaning, if _the blood of the lamb slain_ -had not a true, direct, and proper efficacy (considered in the literal -sense of _blood_) in freeing us from the _guilt_ of sin, or, in other -words, from the _punishment_ of it. - -2. A SECOND conclusion may be drawn, more particularly, from the -words of the text—_if I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me_. -For, if these words mean, as I have endeavoured to shew, and as, I -think, they must mean, that we are redeemed only by the _blood_ of -Christ; and if, as the context seems to speak, it is in our power to -forfeit this benefit, by refusing to be _washed_ by his blood, that -is, to accept the deliverance, offered to us, _through faith in his -blood_[89]: it follows, that there is something very alarming in the -condition of those persons, who hold out against all the calls of -Grace, and obstinately persist in a state of infidelity. In vain have -they recourse to natural religion, or to any other supposed means of -purification and salvation. In vain do they trust even to the moral -part of the Gospel, while they reject or disbelieve the rest. They must -be washed by _Christ_, if they desire _to have any part with him_; -they must place their entire hope and confidence in the _blood_ of the -covenant, who would share in the blessings of it. - -Nay, more than this: the Redeemer is _outraged_ by this refusal to -comply with the gracious terms of his salvation. And, though some may -make slight of _having no part with Christ_, it may concern them to -reflect, what it is to _have a portion with unbelievers_[90]. - -3. LASTLY, and above all, I conclude, that they, who are _washed_, and, -in consequence of that washing, trust to _have a part with Christ_, -as they can never be enough thankful for the inestimable benefit, they -have received, so they can never be enough careful to retain, and to -improve it. If we, who have once embraced the faith, revolt from it; -or, while we make a shew of professing the faith, pollute ourselves -again with those sins, from which we have been cleansed; nay, if we -do not strive to purify our hearts and minds still more and more by -the continual efficacy of a lively faith in Jesus; if, in any of these -ways, we be in the number of those, _who draw back unto perdition_, -what further sacrifice remains for us, or what hope have we in that, -which has been already offered? - -Judas himself, be it remembered, was _washed_ among the other -Disciples; yet he was not _clean_, for all that, nor had he _any part_ -with Jesus. What can this mean, but that something is to be done, on -_our_ part, when the Redeemer has done _his_? and that the permanent -effect of this _washing_, as to any particular person, depends on his -care to keep those _robes white_, which have been _washed in the blood -of the lamb_[91]? - -The account, and the conclusion, of the whole matter, is plainly -this—_If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in -darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: but, if we walk in the light, -as he is in the light, then have we fellowship with him, and_ HIS BLOOD -CLEANSETH US FROM ALL SIN[92]. - - - - -SERMON XI. - -PREACHED JUNE 20, 1773. - -MARK ix. 49. - - _For every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall - be salted with salt._ - - -This is generally esteemed one of the most difficult passages in the -four Gospels. I confess, I take no pleasure in commenting on such -passages, especially in this place; because the comment only serves, -for the most part, to gratify a learned curiosity, and is, otherwise, -of small use. - -But, when a difficult text of Scripture can be explained, and the -sense, arising out of the explanation, is edifying and important, then -it falls properly within our province to exert our best pains upon it. - -This I take to be the case of the difficulty before us, which therefore -I shall beg leave to make the subject of the present discourse. - -There are TWO very different interpretations, of which the words are -capable: and they shall both of them be laid before you, that ye may -adopt either as ye think fit; or even reject them both, if ye do not -find them sufficiently supported. - -To enable you to go along with me in what follows, and to judge of -either interpretation, whether it be reasonable or not, it is necessary -to call your attention to the preceding verses of this chapter, to -which the text refers, and by which it is introduced. - -Our blessed Lord (for the words, I am about to explain, are _his_) had -been discoursing to his Disciples on _offences_, or _scandals_; that -is, such instances of ill-conduct, such indulgences of any favourite -and vicious inclination, as tended to obstruct the progress of the -Gospel, and were likely to prevent either themselves, or others, from -embracing, or holding fast, the faith. Such offences, it was foreseen, -would come: _but woe to that man_ (as we read in the parallel passage -of St. Matthew’s Gospel) _by whom the offence cometh_[93]. - -And, to give the greater effect to this salutary denunciation, our -Saviour proceeds, in figurative, indeed, but very intelligible terms, -to enforce the necessity of being on our guard against such _offences_, -what pain soever it might cost us to subdue those passions, from which -they were ready to spring. No virtue of self-denial was too great to -be attempted in such a cause. A _hand_, a _foot_, an _eye_, were to be -_cut off_, or _plucked out_; that is, inclinations, as necessary and -as dear to us, as those members of the body, were to be suppressed or -rejected by us, rather than the _woe_, denounced against the indulgence -of them, be incurred. This woe is, that the offenders should be cast -into hell-fire, _where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not -quenched_: and it is subjoined _three times_, in the same awful words, -to so many instances of supposed criminal indulgence, in the case -alledged; or rather, to one and the _same_ species of ill-conduct, -differently modified, and, to make the greater impression upon us, -represented under three distinct images. After the last repetition of -it, the text immediately follows—_for every one shall be salted with -fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt_. - -I. Now, taken in this connexion, the words _may_ clearly, and, -according to our ideas, of interpretation, most naturally _do_, admit -this sense; that the offenders, spoken of, shall be preserved entire -to suffer the punishment threatened, though it might seem that they -would, in no long time, be totally destroyed by it: as if our Lord had -expressed himself thus—“I have repeated this woe three times, to shew -you the degree and duration of it, as well as the certainty of its -execution; _the worm shall not die_, that is, the sense of suffering -shall continue, even in circumstances, which may seem proper and likely -to put an end to it: for such, as are worthy to be cast into this fire, -shall be _salted_, or preserved from wasting (salt being the known -emblem of _incorruption_, and thence of _perpetuity_) by the very -fire itself. And [you may easily conceive how this shall be, _for_] -_every sacrifice_, the flesh of every animal to be offered up to God -in your Jewish sacrifices, is kept sound and fit for use by being (as -the Law directs in that case) _salted with salt_. Just so, the _fire -itself_ shall act on these victims of the divine justice: like _salt_, -sprinkled on your legal victims, it shall preserve these offenders -entire, and in a perpetual capacity of subsisting to that use, to which -they are destined.” - -Now, if such be the sense of the words, they contain the fullest and -most decisive proof of that tremendous doctrine, _the eternity of -future punishments_, which is any where to be met with in Scripture. -For the words, being given as a reason and explanation of the doctrine, -are not susceptible of any vague interpretation, like the words -_eternal_ or _everlasting_, in which it is usually expressed; but must -necessarily be understood, as implying and affirming the literal truth -of the thing, for which they would account. And, this being supposed, -you see the use, the unspeakable importance, of this text, as addressed -to all believers in Jesus. But, - -II. There is another sense, of which the text is capable: and, if you -think it not allowable to deduce a conclusion of such dreadful import -from words of an ambiguous signification, you will incline perhaps (as -it is natural for us to do) to this more favourable interpretation, -which I am going to propose. - -I observed, that the text, as read in connexion with the preceding -verse, is most naturally, according to our ideas of interpretation, -to be understood, as I have already explained it. But, what is the -most _natural_, according to our modern rules and principles of -construction, is not always the _true_, sense of passages in ancient -oriental writers (who did not affect our accuracy of connexion), and -particularly in the writers of the New Testament. - -To give a remarkable instance in a discourse of our Lord himself. He -had prescribed to his disciples that form of prayer, which we know -by the name of the _Lord’s prayer_, consisting of several articles; -the last of which is—_for thine is the kingdom, and the power and -the glory for ever_[94]. Now, to this concluding sentence of his -prayer he immediately subjoins these words—FOR _if we forgive men -their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you_. But, -from the illative particle, _for_, according to our notions of exact -composition, was to be expected a reason, or illustration, of the -_immediately foregoing_ clause, the _doxology_, which shuts up this -prayer: whereas, the words, which that particle introduces, have -respect to another and _remote_ clause in the same prayer, namely, -_forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors_[95], and express the -ground and reason, only, of that petition. - -In like manner, the illation expressed in the text—FOR _every one -shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with -salt_—may not be intended to respect the preceding words—_where -the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched_—but something -else, which had been advanced in our Lord’s discourse, though at some -distance from the text; and possibly, the general scope or _subject_ -of it. Consider, then, what that subject is. It is necessary, our Lord -tells his disciples, for such as would escape the woes, threatened, and -approve themselves faithful followers of him, to subdue or renounce -their most favourite inclinations, by which they might be, at any time, -tempted to _offend_, though the pain of this self-denial should be ever -so grievous to them. - -To reconcile their minds to this harsh doctrine, he may then be -supposed to resume that topic, and to _justify_ the advice, which, -with so much apparent severity, he had given them. And then we may -conceive him to speak to this effect: - -“I have said, you must not regard the _uneasiness_, which the conduct, -I require of you, will probably occasion. For _every one_, that is, -every true Christian, _every one_ that is consecrated to my service, -and would escape the punishment by _fire_, in the world to come, _shall -be salted with fire_, in the present world; that is, shall be tried -with sufferings of one kind or other, can only expect to be continued -in a sound and uncorrupt state, by _afflictions_; which must search, -cleanse, and purify your lives and minds, just as _fire_ does those -bodies, which it refines, by consuming all the dross and refuse, -contained in them. The process may be violent, but the end is most -desirable, and even necessary. _And_, that it is so, ye may discern -from the wisdom of your own Law, which requires that _every sacrifice_, -fit to be offered up to God in the temple-service, _shall be salted -with salt_; that is, preserved from putrefaction, and even all -approaches to it, by the application of that useful, though corroding -substance. Now, the _fire_ of affliction shall be to your moral -natures, what _salt_ is to the animal. It may agitate and torment -your minds, but it shall eat all the principles of corruption out of -them, and so keep them clean and untainted; as is fit, considering the -heavenly use that is to be made of them, it being your duty, and even -interest, to present them, as _a sacrifice acceptable and well pleasing -to God_[96].” - -In this way, you see, the text is reasonably explained of _moral -discipline_ in this world, not of future _punishment_. What may -be thought to occasion some little difficulty, or, at least, -particularity, in the mode of writing, is, that _one_ metaphor seems -here employed to explain _another_. But we should rather conceive of -the two metaphors, as employed, jointly and severally, to express this -moral sentiment—‘That affliction contributes to preserve and improve -our virtue.’ The allusion to the effects of _salt_ was exceedingly -obvious and natural in the mouth of a Jew, addressing himself to -Jews[97]. Not but it was common enough, too, in Gentile writers[98]. -And the other allusion to the effects of _fire_ (though the two figures -are in a manner run together by speaking of the _subject_, to which -they are applied, as _salted_ with fire). This allusion, I say, to -_fire_, is justified by the familiar use of it, in the sacred writings. -For thus we are told, _that fire must try every man’s work_[99]—that -_our faith is tried, as gold by fire_[100]—that _a fiery trial must -try us_[101]—that, _as gold is tried in the fire_, so are _acceptable -men in the furnace of adversity_[102]—and in other instances. - -Of _both_ these natural images, it may be affirmed, that they are not -unusually applied to moral subjects: and, if we thus _apply_ them in -the text, the _use_ to ourselves, according to this interpretation, is -considerable and even important; no less, than the seeing enforced, -in the most lively manner, and by our Saviour himself, this great -moral and evangelical lesson—_that the virtue of a good mind must -be maintained at whatever expence of trouble and self-denial_—and -for this plain reason, because, though _no chastening for the present -seem to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless, afterward, it yieldeth -the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them, which are exercised -thereby_[103]. - -And, that such is probably the true sense of the text, we have been -considering, may further be concluded from the light it throws on the -following and last verse of this chapter; the meaning of which will now -be very plain and consequential, as may be shewn in few words. - -For, having spoken of _Christian discipline_ under the name of _salt_, -which _preserves_ what it searches, our Lord very naturally takes -advantage of this idea, and transfers the appellation to _Christian -faith_, which was necessary to support his followers under that -discipline, and has this property, in common with _salt_, that it gives -soundness and incorruption to the subject on which it operates. _Salt_, -says he, _is good: but, if salt have lost its saltness, wherewith -will ye season it?_ That is, _faith in me_ (for by _salt_, you easily -perceive, I now mean that faith, which is your true _seasoning_, and -can alone maintain your firmness and integrity under all trials; this -_faith_, I say) is a salutary principle: but take notice, if you -suffer that principle, so active and efficacious, to decay and lose -its virtue, there are no means left to retrieve it. Like _salt_, grown -insipid, it can never recover its former quality, but is for ever -worthless and useless[104]. Therefore, adds he, take care to _have_, -that is, retain, this _salt_, this good seasoning of your Christian -principles, _in yourselves_; which will preserve you incorrupt, as -individuals: and, as _salt_, from its necessary use at the table, -is further an emblem of union and friendship, give proof of these -principles in your intercourse with all Christians, so as to keep -_peace one with another_; for, by this _seasoning_ of peace, ye will -best preserve yourselves entire, as _a body of men_, or society[105]. - -We see, then, that understanding this _fire_, with which _every one -shall be salted_, of the fire of _affliction_ only, which, like -salt, is to try and preserve the moral integrity of all believers, -and not of the _fire which dieth not_, and, according to the former -interpretation, was to preserve _offenders_ in a perpetual capacity -of enduring future punishment; understanding, I say, this metaphor in -the former sense, we have an easy, elegant, and extremely useful sense -in the words of the text: a sense, which perfectly agrees with what -precedes the text, and illustrates what follows it: whereas, in the -other way of explaining these words, it will be difficult to shew their -coherence with the subsequent verse, though they admit an application -to the foregoing. - -On the whole, I leave it to yourselves to judge, which of the two -interpretations, now proposed to you, is the proper one. I know of -no other, that so well deserves your notice, as these two: and, if -_either_ of them be admissible, we have gained the satisfaction of -understanding a very obscure passage of holy Scripture. But we have -gained more, than this: for, whichever we prefer, a momentous inference -may be drawn from it. EITHER, we must resolve to stick close to our -CHRISTIAN FAITH AND PRINCIPLES, as the only means of preserving our -integrity, and making us fit for the favour of God, to whatever trials -of any kind they may expose us: OR, we shall have to reflect, what -SUFFERING, terrible beyond imagination, is reserved for obstinately -impenitent and incorrigible sinners. - - - - -SERMON XII. - -PREACHED FEBRUARY 9, 1766. - -GAL. vi. 3. - - _If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he - deceiveth himself._ - - -This is one of those many passages in the sacred writings, in which the -simplicity of the expression is apt to make us overlook the profound -sense contained under it. Who doubts, it may be said, the truth of so -general an axiom, as this? and what information, worth treasuring up in -the memory, is conveyed by it? - -In answer to such questions, as these, it may be observed, That the -inspired writers are not singular in this practice; the moral wisdom -of all nations, and, in particular, that of the ancient Pagan sages -(whom these objectors, no doubt, reverence) being usually conveyed in -such large and general aphorisms: and, further, that many good reasons -may be given for this mode of instruction. - -FIRST, _the necessity of the thing_, in times, when men have not been -accustomed to refine on moral subjects: it is also _necessary_ in -another sense, in order to convey the rules of life in some reasonable -compass. Good sense in moral matters is but the experience of observing -men, the result of which must be given in compendious parcels or -collections; otherwise the memory is loaded too much; besides that -neither the leisure, nor the talents of those, for whom these lessons -are designed, will serve for nicer disquisitions. - -SECONDLY, if this _mode_ of teaching were not necessary, it would -still be preferable to any other for its _own proper dignity_. A -philosopher in the schools, or a divine in his closet, may deduce the -laws of morality with a minute exactness. But the authority of an -Apostle disdains this care, and awakens the consciences of men by some -_general_ precept, by some large and _comprehensive_ observation. It -becomes the majesty of his character to deliver the principles of right -conduct in _few and weighty words_: his precepts are _Laws_; and his -observations, _Oracles_: it is for others to speculate upon them with -curiosity, and draw them out into systems. - -THIRDLY, sometimes the very address of a writer leads him to -_generalize_ his observations. It is, when a more direct and pointed -manner would press too closely on the mind, and, by making the -application necessary, indispose us to conviction; whereas, when a -reproof presents itself in this form, less offence is likely to be -given by it, the application being left, in a good degree, to ourselves. - -This last, we shall find, was the case of St. Paul in the text; in -whose behalf, therefore, we need not, in the present instance, plead -the _necessity_, the _convenience_, or the _dignity_ of this method of -instruction; though these reasons, we see, might, on other occasions, -be very justly alledged. - -For, to come now to the aphorism in the text—_If a man think himself -to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself_—as trivial -as this general truth may appear at first sight, we shall perceive, -by turning to the context, that the inspired writer applies it with -infinite address to mortify the pride of some persons, against whom the -tenour of his discourse is there directed. For certain false teachers, -it seems, had very early crept into the churches of _Galatia_, who -arrogated a superior wisdom to themselves, and, on the credit of this -claim, presumed to impose the yoke of Jewish ordinances on the Gentile -converts: in direct opposition to the injunctions of the Apostle, -who had lately planted these churches; and in manifest violation of -Christian charity, which forbad those grievous burthens to be laid on -the consciences of believers. - -One natural feature in the character of these vain-glorious boasters, -was the contempt with which they treated the more infirm Christians, -and the little consideration they had for such of their brethren as -happened to be _overtaken with any fault_. This proud, unchristian -temper he therefore takes upon him to correct—_Brethren_, says he, _if -any man be overtaken with a fault, you, that are spiritual, restore -such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou -also be tempted: Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law -of Christ_. And then follows the observation of the text—_for, if a -man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth -himself_: leaving the conceited Doctors and their admirers to apply -these general words, as they saw fit; but clearly enough pointing to -some persons among them, _who took themselves to be something_, and yet -miserably _deceived themselves_, in that, indeed, they _were nothing_. -In what respects their conduct shewed them to be so, he leaves to their -own sagacity, quickened by the poignancy of this covert reproof, to -find out. - -Such is the Apostle’s _address_ in this divine admonition; and such the -_force_ (the greater, _for_ the address) of the reprehension conveyed -in it! - -But now, what those RESPECTS are, in which these sufficient men -shewed themselves _to be nothing_, though St. Paul thought it not fit -to specify them to the _Galatians_, it may be _useful to us_, as it -certainly is left _free_ for us, to inquire. - -FIRST, then, their very _Conceit_ was a certain argument of their -_Folly_. For, what surer indication of a weak and shallow man, -than his proneness to think highly of himself! Wise men understand -themselves at another rate. They are too conscious of their own -infirmities; they know their judgment to be too fallible, their -apprehension too slow, their knowledge too scanty, their wills -too feeble, and their passions too strong, to give way to this -insolent exultation of heart, to indulge in this conceit of their -own importance, and much less to form injurious comparisons between -themselves and others. They understand, that the only question is -concerning the different degrees of _weakness and imperfection_; -and that, where the best come far short of what they should be, all -pretence of boasting is cut off. - -SECONDLY, these superior airs of importance were unsuitable to the -nature of their religion, and shewed how little proficiency they had -made in it; BECAUSE, as _Christians_, whatever light and knowledge they -laid claim to, they must needs confess was not their own, but derived -to them from above. All, these spiritual men could pretend to know -of divine things, had been freely and solely revealed to them by the -Spirit of God; a distinction, which ought indeed to fill their hearts -with gratitude, but could be no proper foundation of their pride or -vain-glory. For, as the Apostle himself argues in another place, _Who -maketh thee to differ from another? And what hast thou, which thou -didst not receive? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, -as if thou hadst not received it[106]?_ - -Whatever temptation, therefore, there might be to a poor vain heathen -to pride himself in his pittance of knowledge or virtue, a CHRISTIAN -should, by the very principles of his religion, be more modest, and -ascribe his proficiency in either, not to himself, but to the indulgent -favour and good pleasure of God. - -THIRDLY, these boasters betrayed themselves by the _fruits_, which this -self-importance produced, namely, their contemptuous and unfeeling -treatment of their brethren under any instance of their weakness and -frailty. Such behaviour was doubly ridiculous: _first_, as it implied -an ignorance of their own infirmity, and liableness to temptation; and, -_then_, as it argued a total want of _Charity_, the most essential part -of their religion, without which a man is _nothing_, whatever gifts and -graces of other kinds he may possess[107]. - -FOURTHLY, whatever merit a man may possess, this fond complacency of -mind can hardly fail to _deprive_ him of it. For this conceit of his -own sufficiency puts him off his guard, and makes him more liable to -fall into any _misconduct_, when, apprehending no danger to himself, -he employs no care; just as nothing is more fatal to an army, than a -confidence in its own strength, inducing a neglect of that watchfulness -and discipline, by which alone its security can be maintained. - -This sufficiency also leads to _ignorance_, as well as misconduct, by -cutting off all hopes of further improvement. For he, that is proud of -his own knowledge, is not anxious to extend it; and, indeed, does not -easily apprehend there is much room or occasion for his so doing. Now, -from the moment a man stands still, and interrupts his intellectual, -as well as moral course, by the known constitution of things, he -necessarily goes backward; and, for his just punishment, relapses fast -into that ignorance, in a freedom from which he had before placed his -confidence and triumph. - -_Lastly_, this presumptuous conceit is _belyed_ in the EVENT, I mean -in the opinion of those very persons, to whom the vain man would -willingly recommend himself. For the natural effect of such presumption -is, to excite the _contempt_ of the wise, and the _envy_ of the rest. -Men of discernment easily penetrate the delusion, and, knowing how -little reason there is for any man to pride himself in his knowledge -or virtue, are provoked to entertain an ostentatious display of those -qualities with that ridicule, it so well deserves: while the weaker -sort always take themselves to be insulted by superior accomplishments; -and rarely wait the just provocation of _vain-glory_ to malign and envy -those, to whom they belong. - -But the misfortune does not stop here. Contempt and Envy are active -and vigilant passions; they are quick at espying a weakness, and -spare no pains to expose it: and where can this merciless inquisition -end, but in the proud man’s mortification to see his best faculties -slighted, or traduced, and all his imperfections laid bare and exposed? -So good reason had the Apostle to warn the Galatian teachers against -_vain-glory_, in the close of the preceding chapter—_Let us_, says he, -_not be vain-glorious, provoking one another, envying one another_; an -exhortation which the _vain-glorious_ among them should have listened -to, even for their own sakes. - -We see, then, that, _in these several respects_, a man, who _takes -himself to be something_, in effect proves himself _to be nothing_. So -full of instruction is the plain unpretending aphorism in the text to -the persons concerned! - -The Apostle adds—that such a man DECEIVETH HIMSELF—which must -needs be, and cannot want to be enlarged upon; since it appears in -the very instances, in which his _nothingness_ has been shewn. The -_vain-glorious_ Christian is manifestly and notoriously deceived -in _thinking himself something_—while that very conceit shews the -contrary—while it shews that he overlooks the very principles of his -religion—while it proves him to be void of Christian charity, the -very end of the commandment—while it betrays him into ignorance and -folly, and therefore tends to subvert the very foundation, on which his -_vain-glory_ is raised—while, lastly, in the event, it deprives him of -that very consideration to which he aspires. - -“SUCH are the mischiefs of _Self-conceit_!” a vice, which Reason -universally condemns, but which our Christian profession renders most -contemptible and ridiculous. Even in the pursuits of _human_ Science, -where Reason can do most, all the efforts of the ablest understanding -penetrate but a little way. We know enough of _the nature of things_, -to serve the purposes of common life; and enough of _the nature of -man_, to discover our duty towards each other. And within this narrow -circle all our knowledge, be we as proud of it as we please, is -confined. Clouds and darkness cover the rest; and this the ablest men -of all times have seen and confessed. If there be a man, whom Heaven -has formed with greater powers and stronger faculties than are commonly -met with in the species, he is the _first_ to discover, and to lament, -his own blindness and weakness: a Socrates and a Pascal have been -considered as prodigies of parts and ingenuity; yet, while the meanest -Sophister is puffed up with the conceit of his own knowledge, these -divine men confess nothing so readily as their own ignorance. - -And, if this be the case of human learning, what must we think of -_divine_? where Reason teaches nothing, beyond the existence and -attributes of God, and, as to every thing else, without the aid of -_Revelation_, is stark-blind. _The things of God knoweth no man but -the Spirit of God_—is an assertion, to which common sense and common -experience must assent. Yet shall every idle Speculatist, who has but -the confidence to call himself a Philosopher, treat the _divine word_, -as freely as any ordinary subject; and pronounce as peremptorily of the -_revealed will of God_, which the Angels themselves adore in silence, -as if he knew for certain that his poor and scanty understanding was -commensurate with _the councils of the most High_! - -To these professors of Science, whether human or divine, who know so -little of themselves as to presume they know every thing, may the -Apostle’s aphorism be most fitly addressed—_If a man think himself to -be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself_;—and, through -all the simplicity of the expression, the good sense of the observation -must be felt by the proudest understanding. - -Not, that the proper remedy for this evil, of _Self-conceit_, is a vile -subjection of the understanding, which our holy Religion disdains, -and to which none but slaves will submit—nor yet Scepticism, another -vice, to which the less sanguine disputers of this world are much -addicted—but a modest use of the faculties we possess, and above all, -_charity_. It is but another species of _pride_, to pretend that we -know nothing; _Christian humility_ is best expressed in referring, what -we know, to the good of others. Without this reference, all our claims -of superior wisdom are vain and delusive: for it is with _knowledge_, -as with faith, unless it _work by charity_, it is nothing. - -To return to the text, then, and to conclude. - -Let the ignominy of this _Self-delusion_ deter us, if nothing else can, -from the unseemly arrogance, it so well exposes and condemns. And let -us learn to revere the wisdom of the great Apostle, who, by couching -so momentous an admonition in so plain terms, has taught us, That, -as conceit and vain-glory terminate in shame and disappointment; so -the modesty of unpretending knowledge may be entitled to our highest -esteem. - - - - -SERMON XIII. - -PREACHED MAY 16, 1773. - -2 COR. x. 12. - - _We dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves, - with some that commend themselves: But they, measuring themselves - by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not - wise._ - - -I shall not inquire, _who_ the persons were, to whom these words -are applied. It is enough, for the use I intend to make of them, to -observe, that they contain a censure of _some_ persons, “who, conscious -of certain advantages, and too much taken up in the contemplation of -them, came to think better of themselves, and, consequently, worse -of others, than they had reason to do; demonstrating, by this, their -partiality (as the Apostle gently remonstrates), that _they were not -wise_.” - -But this censure admits a more extensive application. _Measuring -themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves_, -whole nations, and even ages, as well as individuals, are, sometimes, -misled in the estimate they make of their own worth; and never more -easily, or remarkably, than when the object of their partial fondness -is their proficiency in _knowledge_, and, above all, in _religious -knowledge_: for nothing flatters the pride of human nature so much, as -an idea of superiority in the exercise of its _best faculties_, on the -_noblest subjects_. - -It would be easy to illustrate this observation by _many_ examples, -that have occurred in the history of mankind. But ONE, only, will -sufficiently employ your thoughts at this time; and that one (to make -it the more interesting and useful) shall be taken from OURSELVES. - -The improvements, that have been made, for two or three centuries -past, in almost every art and science, seem to authorize the _present -age_ to think with some respect, of itself. It accordingly exults -in the idea of its own wisdom: and _this country_, in particular, -which has contributed its full share to those improvements, may well -be thought as forward, as any other, to pay itself this tribute of -self-esteem. It would not be strange, if it appeared, on inquiry, That -some _presumption_ had, in either case, been indulged; and had even -operated, according to the _nature_ of presumption, to the prejudice -of that claim, which, with so much confidence, has been set up. But -I have now in view, only, _one effect_ of this presumption; I mean, -the complacency which many take in supposing, That the _present age_ -excels equally in _sacred_ and _secular_ learning; and, with regard to -ourselves, That _our_ theological knowledge as much surpasses that of -our forefathers at the Reformation, as _their_ knowledge did, the thick -and gross ignorance of the monkish ages. - -It concerns us, for more reasons than one, not to mistake in this -matter. The direct way to decide upon it, would, no doubt, be, To -compare the best modern writers, with the ablest of those among the -Reformers, on the subject of religion. But, till ye have the leisure -or curiosity to make this comparison for yourselves, ye will pay some -regard, it may be, to the following considerations; which, at least, I -think, make it questionable, whether _our_ claims, in particular (for -the inquiry shall, for the present, be confined to them), whether, I -say, _our_ pretensions to religious knowledge have not been carried too -far. And, - -1. One is tempted to ask, whether it be credible, that we of this age -should have much advantage over our Reformers, in respect of religious -knowledge, when both had an opportunity of deriving it from the same -source? You will apprehend the meaning of this question, if you -reflect, that our Reformers had not their religious system to fetch -out of the dark rolls of ancient tradition, and much less to create, -or fashion for themselves, out of their own proper stock of ingenuity -and invention. Had such been their unhappy circumstances, there would -be reason enough to presume that their system was defective. For the -first attempts towards perfection in any art, or science, will not bear -a comparison with those happier and more successful efforts, which a -length of time and continued application enable men to make. But the -case of those good men, we know, was wholly different. They had only -to copy, or, rather, to inspect, a consummate model, made to their -hands; I mean, the _sacred scriptures_, which lay open to them, as they -do to us; and, being taken by them, as we understand they were, for -their _sole_ rule of faith, what should hinder them, when they _read_ -those scriptures, from seeing as distinctly, as we do at this day, -what the Gospel-terms of salvation are, and what _the erudition of a -Christian man_ should be? - -Did the primitive Christians, a plain people, and taken, for the -most part, from the lowest ranks of life, did _they_ understand -their religion, when it was proposed to them, so as to have no doubt -concerning its great and leading principles; nay, so as to be the -standard of orthodoxy to all succeeding ages of the Church? and shall -we think that the ablest Doctors at the Reformation, when they had once -turned themselves to the study of the sacred volumes, could be at a -loss about the contents of them? - -“Yes, it will, perhaps, be said; the primitive Christians had the -advantage of reading the scriptures in the languages in which they -were composed, or of hearing them explained, at least, by learned and -well-instructed teachers: whereas, at the Reformation, those languages -were understood by few, or none; and consequently, in those days, there -could be no persons sufficiently skilled in the sacred scriptures to -ascertain their true meaning.” - -But to this charge of ignorance you will easily reply, by asking, - -2. In the next place, whether it can consist with a _known fact_, -namely, That the revival of letters had preceded the Reformation -every-where, especially in England; and that the excellent persons who -took the lead in that work, were all of them, competently, and, some of -them, deeply, skilled in the learned languages? - -Indeed, in the nature of the thing, it is scarce possible, that the -Reformers should be so little versed, as the objection supposes, in the -original scriptures. For, whether the _new learning_ as it was called, -had, or had not, been cultivated, _before_ the Reformation began, we -may be sure it would _then_ be cultivated with the utmost assiduity; -both, because it was a _new_ learning, that is, because the charms of -novelty would naturally engage many in the study of it; and, because -no step could be taken in the Reformation, without some proficiency -in _that_ learning. Now, if you consider, of what the human mind is -capable, when pushed on by two such active principles, as _learned -curiosity_, and _religious zeal_, you will conclude with yourselves, -even without recurring to positive testimony, that the Reformers must -needs have made an acquaintance with the authentic text: _such_ an -acquaintance, as would let them into a clear apprehension, at least, -of those doctrines, which are the _elementary_, as we may say, or -necessary ingredients in the constitution of a truly Christian Church. - -If you hesitate about coming to this conclusion, the reason, I suppose, -is, that you consider the Reformers as just then emerging from the -darkness of Popery, and therefore so far blinded by the prejudices -of _that_ church[108], or by their own[109] prejudices against it, -as not to see distinctly, and at once, the true sense of Scripture, -though they might be competently skilled in the learned languages. -And, possibly, there is some truth, as well as plausibility, in this -suggestion, as applied to the case of the foreign Protestant Churches, -which were formed with too much haste, and in a time of too much heat, -to be quite free from all such exceptions. But, then, you will call to -mind, - -3. _Thirdly_, that the Reformation was not carried on with us in -a precipitate tumultuary manner, as it was, for the most part, on -the Continent. On the other hand, it advanced, under the eye of the -magistrate, by slow degrees; nay, it was, more than once, checked and -kept back by him. Hence it came to pass, that there was time allowed -for taking the full benefit of all discoveries, made abroad; for -studying the chief points of controversy, with care; and for getting -rid of such mistakes, as might arise from a hasty or passionate -interpretation of holy Scripture. In short, you will reflect, that, -between the first contentions in Germany; on the account of Religion, -and the first establishment of it in the Church of England, under -Elizabeth, there was the space of near half a century: a space, -sufficient, you will think (especially, if the activity of those times -be considered) to admit all the _improvements of learning_, that were -necessary to those who had the charge of conducting the Reformation; -and all the _deliberate circumspection_, with which it was fit that so -great a work should be finally completed. - -If it be said, “that the Reformers are convicted of ignorance in _one_ -important part of scriptural knowledge, that of _Toleration_, and -that therefore, possibly, they have erred in others;” I reply, that -this subject had never been understood, from the first establishment -of Christianity down to the æra of the Reformation; and that the -mistakes about it had, chiefly, arisen, not from a want of seeing what -the Scriptures had revealed, but of knowing how to reconcile the New -Testament to the Old. If we are, now, able to do this, it is well. -In the mean time, let it be acknowledged, that no peculiar charge of -ignorance can be brought against the Reformers for misapprehending -a subject, not only difficult in itself, but perplexed with endless -prejudices, and not yet, as appears, quite disentangled of them. After -all, this doctrine of intolerance, though it unhappily affected the -_personal conduct_ of our Reformers, has no place in the LITURGY and -ARTICLES of our Church. - -Still, perhaps, the main point, on which this question, concerning the -comparative skill of the two periods, in matters of religion, turns, -is yet untouched; which is, that the amazing progress, confessedly -made, since the æra of the Reformation, in all true _Philosophy_, must -have contributed very largely to the increase of _religious_ knowledge; -and that so much light of science, as we now enjoy, must have served to -give us a clearer insight, than our benighted ancestors had, into the -_revealed doctrines of_ Christianity. - -But to this so flattering, and, at first view, not improbable, -assumption, it may be replied, - -4. In the last place, That the doctrines in question, being _purely -Christian_, that is, such as it pleased God to reveal to mankind -concerning his eternal purpose in Christ Jesus,—that the doctrines, I -say, having this original, and being of this nature, have, possibly, -no communication with the discoveries of later times: that, of the -divine councils, on such a subject, we could have known nothing, if the -Revelation had been silent; and that all we _do_ know, when it speaks -clearest, is only _what_ those councils are, not on what _grounds_ of -reason they stand; whether it be, that such knowledge is unattainable -by our faculties, or that it was seen to be improper for our situation: -that, to say the least, all the efforts of the ablest men to explain -the peculiar fundamental doctrines of our religion, on the principles -of our philosophy, have not hitherto been so successful, as to make it -certain that these doctrines are indeed cognisable by human reason: -that possibly, therefore, those doctrines are the objects of _faith_, -simply, and not of knowledge; in other words, that they are no clearer -to us at this day, than they were to those plainer men, who lived in -the sixteenth century[110]. - -And now, if we recollect the substance of what has been said—That -our Reformers had only to consult the _Scriptures_ for a just idea of -the Christian Religion—that they were likely enough to _understand_ -those Scriptures, being invited, or rather impelled, to the study of -them, by the most active principles of human nature—that they _could -not but_ understand those Scriptures in all the more important points -of doctrine, which they had so much time and occasion to consider, -and which there wanted no more than a common skill in the language -of Scripture to understand—and that, lastly, they could not have -understood those points _better_, than they did, even with all our real -or fancied skill in philosophy, because, in truth, philosophy is not -applicable to those points, being matters of pure Revelation, and not -susceptible of any additional clearness from the exertion of our best -faculties, however improved:—If these things, I say, are put together, -we shall conceive it possible for our Reformers to have acquired such -a knowledge, at least, of their religion, as not to deserve that -utter contempt, with which, on a comparison with ourselves, they are, -sometimes, treated. - -But a single FACT will, perhaps, speak more conviction to you, than all -these general presumptive reasonings. When the question is, therefore, -concerning the degree of religious knowledge, which such men as Cranmer -and Ridley possessed, let it be remembered, “That Erasmus (who lived -and died before the English Reformation had made any considerable -progress, and the benefit of all whose light and knowledge those -Reformers, therefore, had) that this learned man, I say, had, in those -days, explained himself as reasonably, on almost every great topic of -revealed religion, as any writer has since done; or is now able to do.” - -This _fact_, however, does not imply, that the age of the Reformation -was equally enlightened with the present; or that the clearer light, we -enjoy, is of no service to religion. Our improved CRITICISM has been -of use in ascertaining the authority, and, sometimes, in clearing the -smaller difficulties, of the sacred text; and our improved PHILOSOPHY -has enabled many great men to set the evidences of revealed religion, -in a juster and stronger light: but, with the _doctrines_ themselves, -our improvements, of whatever kind, have no concern. Be our proficiency -in human science what it may, those doctrines are the _same_ still. -Reason, under any degree of cultivation, may if we please to misapply -it, perplex and corrupt our faith; but will never be able to see to -the bottom of those _judgments_, which are _unsearchable_, nor to clear -up those _ways_, which are _past finding out_[111]. - -To conclude: I am not, now, making the panegyric of those venerable -men, to whom we are indebted for our religious establishment. They -were our inferiors, if you will, in many respects. But, if, _measuring -ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among ourselves_, we -overlook their real abilities and qualifications; if we pronounce them -ignorant of _good letters_, because they lived in an age, which we have -learned to call barbarous; and ignorant of the _Christian religion_, -because they were not practised in our philosophy; we, probably, do -THEM great injustice, and take, it may be, not the best method of doing -honour to OURSELVES. - - - - -SERMON XIV. - -PREACHED APRIL 27, 1766. - -St. MARK, iv. 24. - -_Take heed what ye hear._ - -Or, as the equivalent phrase is in - -St. LUKE, viii. 18. - -_Take heed_ HOW _ye hear_. - - -Faith, says the Apostle, _cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word -of God_[112]. The assertion was strictly true in the early days of -the Gospel, before books were yet written and spread abroad for the -edification of the Church. The inlet of faith was, then, the _ear_: -through that organ only was conveyed, from the tongue of the preacher, -_the word of God_. But the case is much the same at all times; even -_now_, when books are enough multiplied, and perhaps more than enough, -in the Christian world. For, it having pleased God, that a standing -ministry should be kept up for the instruction of mankind in _the -faith_, and a _woe_ being denounced against such, as have received -this commission, and yet _preach not the Gospel_[113], the _sole_ way -by which _faith cometh_ to most men, and the _principal_, by which it -cometh to almost all, is still that of _hearing_. It is still by the -_word preached_, that men, in general, come to the faith of Christ, and -are confirmed in the profession of it. - -Our Lord, then, foreseeing how much would depend on this faculty of -_hearing_, and finding by experience how liable it was to be abused, -thought fit to give his Disciples a particular, and what may almost -seem a _new_, precept, for their conduct in this respect. The ancient -masters of rhetoric, and of morals, had frequently warned their -scholars to take heed what _they speak_: but our Divine Master carries -his attention still farther; and while his ministers are required, _to -speak, as the oracles of God_, the people are very properly instructed -by him, _to take heed what they hear_. - -Now, that this admonition may have its full effect, it will be proper -to explain the reasons, on which it is founded; to lay before you the -several considerations which shew of what infinite concern it is to -those, who _hear_ the word, to be _attentive_ in hearing. - -And it naturally occurs, as the - -I. FIRST reason for this attention, that what is spoken, is delivered -to them, _as the word of God_. - -When a person in high place and authority thinks fit to honour us with -a message, though it be in a matter of no great importance, with what -submission is it received! How diligently do we listen to it! How -circumspectly is every sentence, and even syllable, weighed! We do -not stand to make exceptions to the messenger, who may have nothing -in his own _person_ to command our respect; we do not much consider -the _grace_ with which he delivers his message; we are not curious to -observe in what _choice_ or _elegant_ terms it is expressed. We are -only concerned to know, that the message has been faithfully related, -and then a due regard is immediately paid to it. And shall God speak -to us by the mouth of his ministers, in terms which himself dictates, -and which we may verify, if we please, by comparing them with his own -_written word_,—shall, I say, the God of Heaven thus address himself -to us, and we not _take heed what and how we hear_? - -Or, suppose the opinion of a man learned in any secular profession -is reported to us, on a point which falls within his province, and -of which it concerns us to form a right apprehension, Is not such -_opinion_ received with respect by us, and studied with care? - -And shall our Divine Master be negligently _heared_, when he -condescends to instruct us in the way of life and salvation, a subject, -of all others, the most interesting to us; a subject, which he alone -perfectly understands, and concerning which he will not and cannot -mislead us? - -Still further, besides the authority of the divine word, there is -something in the _nature_ of it, which deserves, and, if we be not -wholly insensible, must command our attention. - -For shall a little superficial rhetorick be listened to with regard, -perhaps with admiration? And shall not the heart-felt truths of the -Gospel warm and affect us? Shall a few spiritless periods, ranged -in measure, and coloured with art, mere sound and paint, throw -an assembly, sometimes, into joy or grief, or transport it with -indignation? And can we lend a careless ear to the word of God, _which -is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing -even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and a discerner of the -thoughts and intents of the heart_[114]? - -Such is the attention due to the word of God, when _acknowledged_ under -that character. But - -II. A SECOND reason for _hearing_ with caution, is, that the hearers -are required to judge for themselves whether what is delivered to them -be, _indeed_, the word of God. Without this care, impostures may be -endless, and the effect of them fatal. - -When we give up ourselves with an implicit trust to others in mere -temporal concerns, the mischief, although considerable, may yet be -checked by experience; or, at most, as it respects this life only, -is not conclusive and irreparable: but in matters of religion, if we -accept _that_ as the word of God, and act upon it, which has no higher -authority than the word of fallible and presumptuous men, we may be led -into all the visions of fanaticism or superstition, and into all the -crimes which so naturally spring from both, to the loss of our future, -as well as present happiness. - -It pleased God, therefore, from the time that miracles ceased to be -the credentials of his ministers in the Christian Church, to secure -the faithful from these dangers by the guidance of the _written -Word_; in which, besides _special rules_ there given for the trial -of _the spirits, whether they are of God_, such _general principles_ -are delivered as may direct our judgment. And by the help of these, -interpreted by the _tenor_ of that word, and the _analogy_ of faith, we -may be secured from all deception or surprize. - -It is true, all men cannot _apply_ these rules and principles, or not -with full knowledge and effect. Woe, therefore, be to him who abuses -the incapacity of such hearers, by obtruding on their easy belief his -own fancies, as the doctrines of God! But to the abler hearers of the -word, to all, indeed, who are competently instructed in their Religion, -the task is not difficult to avoid gross and dangerous delusions, -to determine for themselves _whether the doctrine be of God_, or -not. This task, I say, is _not difficult_; yet it implies care and -circumspection; and the necessity of discharging it must be allowed a -good argument for _taking heed what we hear_. - -III. A further reason for this diligence in _hearing_ is, That the -hearers are expected and required _to profit by the word spoken_. - -_The word of wisdom and of knowledge is given to every man to profit -withal[115]._ It is not a curious problem, a fine lecture, a trial of -wit, or play of ingenuity, calculated to entertain us for the time, -and to be laid aside and forgotten by us again, when the occasion is -over. The ministry of the word is of another kind, and destined to -higher purposes. It is an instrument of reproof, of exhortation, of -instruction in righteousness. _The sword of the spirit_ is put into -the hands of men for no ends of pageantry and amusement. The minister -of God _bears it not in vain_. He is entrusted with it to smite the -hearts of the wicked, to _pierce through the souls_ of unrighteous -men, and to flash conviction in the face of unbelievers. It is an -ordinance of God, by which he would humble the proud, and convert the -obstinate; strengthen the weak, and confirm the wise, hearer. Whatever -our condition, it is to be corrected or improved by the word of God; -whatever our necessities, they are to be relieved by it. But every -gift of the spirit, as well as faith, _cometh by hearing_: and that -not in the instant, but by degrees; for the Gospel does not illuminate -and sanctify men at once; but by successive improvements, according to -the care with which we listen to its admonitions, and the impression -they make upon us. Hence it concerns the hearer, that nothing be lost, -and that _the good seed_ be not committed to the ground in vain. One -_truth_ received, prepares the mind to entertain a second; that, a -third; and so on, till we become perfect in the knowledge of the -_faith_. Our moral advances are made in the same manner: one good -resolution begets another, which again produces succeeding ones, till, -through several intervening states, we arrive, or almost arrive, at -perfect _obedience_. - -And this consideration, indeed, seems to have been immediately present -to our Lord, when he delivered the admonition in the text. For so he -comments upon, and enforces his own words—_Take heed what ye hear_: -[for] _with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you, and_ TO -YOU THAT HEAR, SHALL MORE BE GIVEN: that is, plainly and certainly, -your proficiency in faith and virtue will depend upon the degree of -attention ye pay to my word, and shall be proportioned to it; therefore -it cannot be too strict and earnest. Nay, our Lord goes farther, and in -his jealousy, as it were, for the honour of the word spoken, threatens -the listless hearer, that he should not only not advance in religious -qualifications, but that he should even lose those, which he already -possessed. _For he that hath, to him shall be given_: AND HE THAT -HATH NOT, FROM HIM SHALL BE TAKEN AWAY EVEN THAT HE HATH. And this -dispensation of Providence, as severe as it may seem, is, I suppose, -confirmed by too certain experience, and is analogous to the rest of -God’s moral government. - -It is no slight matter then, _how we hear_. And let no idle prejudices -prevent or mislead us. The preacher of the Gospel may, on various -pretences, be unacceptable to us. Still, the Gospel itself is not -_his_, but God’s; to which no _circumstance_ should indispose us. Nay, -in spite of this indisposition, the _preacher_, if we resolve to hear, -may profit us. For it is not, I conceive, without example, that such as -come to amuse themselves with a stated discourse, or perhaps to censure -the discourser, have found their hearts touched by the quickening -power of the word, and have returned with serious thoughts and better -resolutions. - -This, I say, is not too much to expect from the Gospel of Christ, and -the grace which attends it, since we find it recorded of a _Pagan -moralist_, that, when a young reveller came into his school, flushed -with wine, and (as the custom of such was) crowned with flowers, -and therefore in no disposition, we may presume, to profit by his -instructions; the philosopher, however, chose his topics so well, and -pressed them on his gay disciple with such effect, as to send him away -in a graver mood, and without his garland[116]. But, - -IV. The last and most important reason of all why we should give an -attentive ear to the word of God, is, _That we shall finally be judged -by it_. - -If the Gospel had only proposed to instruct us in the knowledge of -God, that so we might speculate more ably on divine subjects; or, at -most, refer the knowledge we acquire to present use; though it could -not be denied that such purpose was an important one, yet, if it went -no further, we might, if we could allow ourselves in such imprudence, -make light of this, as we do of so many other kinds of instruction. -We should be ignorant, indeed, and unaccomplished in a very sublime -science; but so we are of many others, and yet are contented to remain -in that ignorance. We might conduct ourselves foolishly and perversely, -and might suffer much inconvenience, and even misery, for want of -acting on the principles of this science; but so we do, in many other -instances, for want of acting on the maxims of art and prudence in the -management of our common concerns, and yet we make a shift to satisfy -ourselves with our condition. But if the Gospel follow us into another -world; if this immortal volume must be laid open in the presence of -men and angels, and our eternal doom pronounced out of it, though we -would not obey, or so much as listen to its commands, when they were so -earnestly, so repeatedly, in this life pressed upon us; if such be the -effect of not _hearing_, how shall we excuse our indifference in this -respect, or what can support us under the consciousness of it? - -Hear then the awful sentence of Christ himself, denounced in that -Gospel—_He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one -that judgeth him_; THE WORD _that I have spoken, the same shall judge -him at the last day_[117]. - -Go now, ye careless hearers, ye despisers of the WORD, and justify to -yourselves, if ye can, your neglect and scorn of it! - -When our Lord himself taught in the streets of Jerusalem, many a -_supercilious_ Pharisee, we may suppose, passed by, without so much -as stopping to hear what this divine teacher had to say to them: -others, if they gave attention to his words, were only gratifying an -idle, perhaps a malignant curiosity; they sought occasion from what -he said to intrap him in his discourse, to accuse him to the rulers, -or to vilify him in the eyes of the people. Again: when this same -doctrine was taught by the Apostle Paul in another proud city, as proud -of its philosophic schools, as Jerusalem was of its temple, many a -contemptuous sophist, we may believe, disdained to listen, at all to -the _foolishness of preaching_; and of those few who did, _some_, we -know, _mocked_, while others negligently asked their companions, _What -would this babbler say_? But how will both these be astonished in the -last day to find themselves judged by that _word_ which they neglected, -or contemned; by that word, which they would not _hear_, though it was -brought home to their doors, or which they rejected with scorn, when -they _did_ hear it! - -Nor think, because neither Jesus nor Paul hath preached in person to -us, that therefore our case is much different. Jesus and Paul still -speak in the ministers of the word: or, what if the speakers be widely -different, the _word_ is the same: _this treasure we_ still _have_, -though _in earthen vessels_[118]. Nay, in one respect, our guilt -exceeds theirs. The Pharisees and Philosophers were, alike, ignorant -and unbelieving. We profess _to know_, and _to believe_. - -Let US, then, _take heed what we hear_; lest our knowledge and belief -add terrors to that day, when _the neglected word_ shall sit in -judgment upon us. - - - - -SERMON XV. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 24, 1765. - -ROM. xvi. 19. - - _I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple - concerning evil._ - - -Our blessed Lord had given it in charge to his followers to be _wise -as serpents, and harmless as doves_[119]. And the Apostle explains and -enforces this command of his Master, when he enjoins us in the words of -the text, To be _wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning -evil_. - -I confine myself, at present, to the former part of the text, and shall -enquire into the properties or characters of CHRISTIAN WISDOM. - -This wisdom consists in the prosecution of what the Scriptures declare -to be the true _end_ of man, and by such _means_ as they prescribe to -us. - -That _end_ is the SALVATION of our souls; and the _means_, which lead -to it, are FAITH and OBEDIENCE. Thus far there can be no mistake. -The _wise Christian_ is he who is intent on securing his _eternal_ -interest; and who, to that end, fortifies his mind with a firm belief -of the _doctrines_, and conducts his life according to the _precepts_, -of the Gospel. - -I. But PERFECT WISDOM, which consists in a strict attention to these -_several_ particulars, and according to the true worth of _each_, is -rarely the lot of human nature. And there are _two_ ways, in which we -are most apt to forfeit our pretensions to it. ONE is, when our minds, -wholly taken up with the ultimate _object_ of their hopes, neglect the -_means_ which are appointed to bring them to it: The OTHER, when we -rest in the intervening _means_ themselves, without a due regard to -that _final purpose_, for the sake of which they were appointed. - -1. The FORMER of these defects we may observe in those persons who, -from a too warm and enthusiastic turn of thought, are for subliming -all piety into the trances of mystic contemplation; as if _morality_ -and _faith_ scarce deserved their notice; and the _beatific vision_ -were as well the _object_, as _end_ of the Christian life. Here the -fault lies in an impatience to come at the _point_ we propose to -ourselves, without observing the proper _methods_ which are to put us -in possession of it; and is much the same phrenzy as we should charge -on those _travellers_, who, being on their way towards a distant -country, stop short in the contemplation of all the wonders they have -heard reported of it, without pursuing their journey, or indeed without -taking one step towards it. - -2. The OTHER defect of wisdom is seen in those less sanguine, and, in -truth, lukewarm Christians, who do not, indeed, altogether neglect the -subservient duties of their profession, but, as not enough considering -the _prize of their high calling_, grow remiss in the exercise of them: -in which they too much resemble those _same travellers_; who, when -taking the ordinary means of arriving at their journey’s end, fall -into an idle way of loitering on the road, and use not that dispatch -and diligence in their stages, which an earnest consideration of the -_end_, they have in view, should naturally inspire. - -II. But this duty of Christian wisdom is further violated, when, with -a full respect to our final _hopes and expectations_, and a general -intention to pursue them by the _means_ appointed in holy Scripture, we -do not, however, observe the _due bounds and measures_ of each; that -is, when, of the _two_ appointed means of salvation, _a pure faith_, -and _right practice_, we chose to ourselves a favourite, and incline -too much to _one_, at the expence of the _other_. For, - -1. With regard to the distinct provinces of FAITH and MORALITY, we -know there are those, who, provided they are but sound and orthodox -in their opinions, that they give an entire assent to the several -articles of their creed, and submit their faith to the entire direction -of Scripture, or perhaps of the church with which they communicate, -suppose the affair of _moral practice_ of much less importance; and -conclude their devotion for this acceptable sacrifice of _a right -faith_ will excuse their making somewhat too free with the article -of _obedience_. Such persons there have been and still are in all -churches; but we know _what_ sect of Christians is most deeply infected -with this error. - -2. On the contrary, they who have shaken off this bondage of -superstition, and have observed the mischiefs which arise in abundance -from this exclusive attachment to creeds and confessions, are very apt -to run into the other extreme; and, because they find _morality_ to -be of eternal obligation, make the less account of _faith_ and right -opinion. As the former excess is the peculiar disgrace of _Popery_, -this other has frequently been objected to _Protestantism_. _Both_ -are manifest violations of _Christian wisdom_; which, besides that -it commands an equal reverence for the two tables of the divine law, -should further instruct us, _that as faith without works is vain_, so -_good works_ themselves, unassisted and unsanctified by _faith_, are -either not so perfect, or not so acceptable from us Christians, as -otherwise they might be. Not to observe, that as the articles of our -holy faith may be founded on _reasons_, which we do not know; so the -belief or rejection of them may have _consequences_, which we cannot -foresee. - -III. And with this preparation, let us now descend to still more -particular reflexions on the duty which lies upon us to approve -our _wisdom_ in the _public profession_ of that faith, and the -_manifestation_ of that practice. _Christian wisdom_ requires an -attentive regard to the main _end_ we have in view, and to the -_methods_ by which we are instructed to obtain it. But still there -is great room for discretion to shew itself in the _management and -pursuit_ of those methods. One _manner_ of doing the good, we are -appointed to do, will be preferable to another. And it is a great -part of Christian prudence to be ready and expert in discovering and -acting upon that _preference_. This indeed is a large field; nor is it -possible to enumerate all the cases which fall within this province -of true wisdom. But to prescribe to _ourselves_ some plan, however -defective, we may consider, that, if a constant regard be had to -_ourselves_, to our _own character and circumstances_, our virtues will -then be most GRACEFUL; if to the exigencies of the _times_ and _places_ -in which we live, most SEASONABLE; and, lastly, if to the _persons_, -_conditions_, and _characters_ of other men, they will thus become most -ATTRACTIVE and EFFICACIOUS. - -1. It was a point the masters of ancient wisdom took a singular -pleasure to inculcate, and we find an equal stress laid upon it by the -sacred writers, that a strict _decorum_ be observed in the exercise of -our virtues; or, in other words, that the _good_ we do be that which -is _fit_ and _decent_, considering our _circumstances and characters_. -Thus we find one set of duties more especially recommended to the -_young_, another to the _aged_; some to _private_ persons, others to -such as are in _place and authority_. Different _professions_ in life -have also different sets of offices belonging to them; or in such as -are _common_ to all, propriety demands, that they be evidenced in -very different _manners_. The virtues we expect in the _poor man_, -are humility, industry, and resignation. These too are virtues, from -the obligation of which no _rich man_ is exempted; but it would be -strangely _misbecoming_, if _he_ did not surpass the _other_ in acts of -charity and beneficence. And in respect of the same _common_ virtue, -suppose _charity_, what the _one_ would very commendably discharge by -little acts of service and assiduity towards his distressed neighbour, -might require a very considerable expence of wealth or labour in the -_other_. Nay, the several humours and dispositions of men will occasion -a difference, if not in the _matter_ of their duty, yet in the _way_ in -which it will become them to express it. An eminent moralist, indeed, -carried this point of _decorum_ very far when he would justify so bad -an action, as _suicide_, and which he owns he should have condemned in -any other, from the singular turn of Cato’s temper and virtue[120]. But -thus much may be said with great truth: that an action, good in itself, -may come with a better grace from one man than another. A lesson of -good advice, for instance, might be requisite from the liveliest man -to his friend; but it would have additional weight and propriety from -one of a graver disposition: and certainly what the _former_ could only -hint with address, the _latter_ might be allowed to enforce with much -earnestness and authority. - -In short, if we study _ourselves_, and reflect what our _station_, -_character_, or _nature_ is, we shall best discern what the virtues -are, and in what manner to be expressed, which sit most properly and -_gracefully_ upon us. And to give a diligent attention to these is no -mean part of _moral wisdom_. But, - -2. We must look beyond ourselves; we must consider what the condition -of the _times_, what the state of the _places_ in which we live, may -require of us. I do not mean that religion is a matter of _policy_; or -that virtue is a mere _local_ consideration. But when the question -is, how we may do the _most_ good by our religious or moral conduct, -a prudent accommodation of ourselves to time and place will be very -necessary[121]. The primitive Christians were not _wise unto that which -is good_, when they provoked the cruelty of their enemies, and offered -themselves without cause to the racks and fires of persecution. Nor -would _they_ be less blameable, who, in a careless, prophane age, when -_silence_ would be readily taken for _assent_: when, not to profess the -faith would be construed to renounce it, should, from a too scrupulous -fear of giving offence, forbear to make an open confession of their -religion. The exigencies of _times_, we see, are very different. A -wise man would have endeavoured to moderate the excessive zeal, which -prevailed in the _former_ of these periods: he would apply himself to -raise and quicken it, were he to find himself in the circumstances -described in the _latter_. Or, to explain myself by a case which may -still more nearly affect us. There was a _time_, when the religion of -our country consisted too much in a zeal for unintelligible articles -and superstitious ceremonies; when Popery had enslaved both mind and -body, had bent the _one_ to an implicit acquiescence in the doctrines -of the Church, and burthened the _other_ with a constant unprofitable -exercise of its worship. How then was the _wisdom_ of a good man to -express itself in these circumstances? In dispelling, it will surely be -said, the gloom of superstition; in asserting the great privileges of -natural reason, and in pressing the obligation and necessity of a good -life, as of more worth than all ceremonial observances. - -This _was_ the service rendered by the best men of those days to true -Religion; and _we_ have reason to bless and revere their memories -for it. But should the liberty into which we are called, degenerate -into licentiousness; should it ever be common for men, in the fear of -_believing_ too much, not to believe what the Scriptures themselves -plainly require of them; and from the apprehension of relapsing into -their old superstitious practices, to give little or no regard to -the duties of external worship: should this at any time be the case, -those truly wise men, who laboured so profitably to check the _other_ -extreme, would certainly, in this different state of things, apply -themselves with equal earnestness to correct _this_. Not that their -former practice was not good in itself, but that, by a change in the -disposition of the times, it was now become less _seasonable_. - -3. We are, lastly, to have a regard to the _conditions_, _characters_, -and _persons_ of those with whom we converse; this attention being -especially requisite to render our virtues _attractive and efficacious_. - -The philosopher that took upon him to discourse on the science of war, -did not enough consider his own _character_. If he chose to do this in -an age which wanted no such instructions, his conduct was certainly -_unseasonable_. But when he presumed to instruct the greatest general -and commander in the world, he deserved the censure which has disgraced -him with all posterity[122]. A decorum like this is required in our -attempts to promote truth and virtue. To dictate in such matters to -persons wiser than ourselves, or to persons, who by their stations and -characters should, in all reason, be supposed wiser, is a manifest -indiscretion, and can never be attended with any good consequences. -Were _we_ ever so able to instruct, or were _they_ ever so much in want -of instruction, _prudence_ would suggest a very different conduct. It -would recommend to us all the honest arts of insinuation and address; -it would oblige us to watch the fittest seasons and opportunities; -or, perhaps, to content ourselves with the silent admonition of a -good example. Or, were there nothing in the _rank and condition_ of -those we would work upon, to restrain us to this caution, we might -even be required to shew a condescension to their very _prejudices -and humours_. The errors of men may sometimes be removed by arguing -with them on their own mistaken principles; by allowing all that -truth and reason will warrant to their opinions; by putting the -fairest construction upon their designs; by hinting objections to -their wrong tenets, instead of fiercely declaiming against them; -above all, by testifying a sincere disposition to advance truth and -goodness, without any indirect views to our own interest. Or, were all -other considerations out of the case, we could never be excused from -proceeding in the way of gentleness and civility, from treating them -with due respect, and expressing the sincerest good-will to their -_persons_. Be their _moral_ or _religious_ defects what they will, we -should hardly be _wise_; that is, we should take very improper methods -of reclaiming them from _either_, if we reproved with bitterness, -advised with insolence, or condemned with passion. In all addresses to -mistaken or bad men, where our purpose is to inform or amend them, the -gentlest _applications_ are surely the best, because _these_ excite no -passion to counteract their _virtue_. - -And now, at length, should it be asked who is that WISE CHRISTIAN -whom the text designs and recommends to our imitation, we are able to -furnish, at least, the outline of his character. - -“HE is one who sets before him the great END and prize of his _high -calling_; who, in his progress through the various stages of _this_ -life, keeps in constant view the immortal happiness which his religion -holds out in prospect to him in _another_: who, in humble adoration -of his God and Saviour, is content to wait the appointed season which -is to crown his hopes and expectations; and, for the present, is -sollicitous to _work out his salvation with fear_ and reverence, by -an earnest application of his time and pains to those _subservient -duties_, which are to qualify him for the enjoyment of Heaven; who -subjects all the towering conceits of his _understanding_, to the -_doctrines_ of the Gospel, and the impetuous sallies of his _will_, to -the _precepts_ of it; who makes no audacious separation of what the -wisdom of God hath joined together; but, whilst he adores the mysteries -of his holy FAITH, walks on in the plain and humble path of moral -OBEDIENCE. He is _one_, who thinks it not enough to rest in the mere -MATTER of his duty, but performs it in such a MANNER as will render it -most exemplary and efficacious. He knows it to be a great precept of -his religion, to see, _that his good be not evil spoken of_. He would -not disgrace the _best_ cause in the world by the neglect of those -decencies, which, as he observes, have sometimes the strange power to -recommend the _worst_. The good he intends, therefore, is attempted in -such a way, as is most BECOMING of himself; most SEASONABLE in respect -of the opportunities which are offered to him; and most agreeable and -PERSUASIVE to other men. In short, HE is one who, taking _Prudence_ for -his guide, and _Innocence_ for his companion, thinks himself secure in -these attendants; and therefore neglects no _decorum_, which the best -philosophy prescribes; no _art_, which the soundest policy suggests; -and no _address_, which the politest manners recommend: and so, in the -high emphatic sense of the words, approves himself a WISE MAN; _wise -unto that which is good_, to all purposes in _this_ world, as well as -in a _better_.” - - - - -SERMON XVI. - -PREACHED DECEMBER 1, 1765. - -ROM. xvi. 19. - -_I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning -evil._ - - -In considering the first part of this precept, I endeavoured to give -some general description of Religious or CHRISTIAN WISDOM; both in -respect of the END it has in view, and of the MEANS employed by it: -I further exemplified some of those subordinate WAYS, in which the -prudent application even of those _means_ is seen and expressed: And -all this, for the sake of those sincere, but over-zealous persons, who -are apt to think that _wisdom_ hath little to do in the prosecution of -honest and upright purposes. - -It now remains to treat that other part of the text, which requires -us to be INNOCENT, as well as _wise_, to be SIMPLE CONCERNING EVIL. -And this, perhaps, will be thought the more important branch of the -subject. For, generally speaking, the ways of _wisdom_, when our -purposes are the very best, are not only the most effectual, but -the safest and most convenient. So that _prudence_ is likely to be -a favourite virtue with us. But the case is different with regard -to _simplicity concerning evil_; which is often found a hard and -disagreeable injunction; as it may happen to cross our passions and the -more immediate views of self-interest. So that this SIMPLICITY will -sometimes seem, what the world is ready enough to call it, _folly_: and -therefore, for the credit of our _sense_, as well as virtue, we should -be well apprized of the worth and excellence of this Christian duty. - -The virtue of SIMPLICITY consists, in general, in following the plain -ingenuous sense of the mind; in taking our measures according to the -dictates of conscience, and acting, on all occasions, without reserve, -duplicity, or self-imposture, up to our notions of obligation. It is -the office of WISDOM to see that our conscience be rightly informed: -But our INTEGRITY is shewn in doing that which conscience, be it -erroneously informed or no, requires of us. It consists, in a word, -in whatever we understand by an _honesty of nature_; in observing, -universally, that which we believe to be _right_, and avoiding what we -know, or but suspect[123] to be _wrong_. - -This _simplicity of mind_ may be almost said to be born with us. It is -the bias of nature on our young minds; and our earliest instructions, -as well as the first efforts of reason, strengthen and confirm it. But -the impression lasts not long. We are scarcely entered into life, when -we begin to treat it as one of _those childish things_, which it is -beneath the dignity of our riper age to be amused with. The passions -put forth and grow luxuriant; and why, we say to ourselves, should this -tender apprehension of evil check their growth, and restrain their -activity? We are now in the season of _pleasure_; and can there be any -hurt in taking a little of it, out of that narrow path, which our early -prejudices have prescribed to us? - -Still, as we advance in years, fresh objects arise, and other passions -engage us in the pursuit of them. Wealth and honour, or what we -improperly call our _interests_, have now an ascendant over us; and -the passion for each is rarely gratified but at the expence of some -virtue. And thus it comes to pass, that, though we set out in the world -with a warm sense of truth and honour, experience by degrees refines -us out of these principles; and our hearts, instead of retaining that -_infant_ purity, the grace and ornament of our nature, and which Christ -so especially requires[124] in the professors of his religion, are -all over stained with fraud, dissimulation, and disingenuity. We are -even proud of the acquisition, and call it a _knowledge of life_: so -dextrous are we in giving a good name to our worst qualities! - -But effects follow their causes; and the vice we are now considering is -not the less operative, nor the less hurtful, for the specious terms -in which we dress it up, and present it to each other. - -Of its malignity I shall give two or three instances; and, to fit them -the better for use, they shall be taken from very different quarters; -from the _cabinets of the wise, and the schools of the learned_, as -well as from the _vulgar haunts of careless and licentious men_. We -shall learn, perhaps, to reverence the Apostle’s advice, when we find -that the neglect of it has DEGRADED RELIGION; RELAXED MORALITY, and -POLLUTED COMMON LIFE. - -To begin with an instance which shews how dangerous it is to depart -from this _simplicity concerning evil_, in the great concerns of -RELIGION. - -I. When the priest, the sage, and the politician joined together in -the days of heathenism to propagate among the people a superstition, -which themselves condemned and detested; when they did their utmost -to support a senseless, an immoral, an irreligious worship; when they -strove, by every seducing artifice, to keep up that strong delusion, -which God, in his just indignation, had sent among them, to believe a -_lye_, (for such in its whole fabric and constitution was the old Pagan -idolatry) when these men, who _knew the truth_, were yet contented _to -hold it in unrighteousness_; they believed, no doubt, nay, they made -no scruple to boast, that they had acted with consummate prudence; and -that, in sacrificing the interests of religious truth (a small matter -in their estimation) they had most effectually provided for the public -interest. But what sentence does the Scripture pass on these men of -ancient and renowned wisdom? Why this severe and mortifying one, That -_professing themselves wise, they became fools_. And how well they -deserved this censure, we understand from their own history; where we -read, That Pagan idolatry, thus countenanced and supported, teemed -with all the vices, of which our depraved nature is capable; and that -the several contrivances of its wise advocates to keep an impious -and barefaced falshood in credit, served only to produce, _first_, -a SUSPICION, and in the _end_, an open and avowed CONTEMPT, of all -Religion. - -However, the ends of _divine wisdom_ were greatly promoted by this -sad experience of _human folly_. For Christianity, which made its -appearance at this juncture, found it an easier task to establish -itself on the ruins of a fallen, or falling superstition. _Truth_, -which had for so long a time been anxiously kept out of sight, was now -the more welcome to those, who wished her appearance. And the detection -of those prophane arts, which had been so manifestly employed in that -service, disposed the most perverse or careless the more easily to -reconcile themselves to her. - -And it would have been happy if the sense of this advantage, which the -_simplicity of truth_ obtained, in the first pages of the Gospel, over -all the frauds of imposture, had prevented Christians from copying -afterwards what they had so successfully contended against and exposed. -Then had a great dishonour of the Christian name been avoided. But that -_truth_, whose virtues are here magnified, must not be dissembled. -The practice of _lying_ for the cause of God, too soon revived, and -became too frequent in the Christian world. It is in vain to think of -diverting your minds, more especially, from that great part of it, -which has long since forgotten to be _simple concerning evil_. But -true _wisdom will ever be justified of her children_. These dishonest -arts, which could not support a bad cause, have been injurious and -disgraceful to the _best_. They have corrupted the ingenuous spirit of -the Gospel, they have adulterated the sincere word of God; and, in both -ways, have produced innumerable mischiefs, in civil and religious life. -They have helped to bring into discredit or disuse a true _Christian -temper_; and have unhappily created in the minds of many an undeserved -prejudice against the _Christian faith_. - -II. But if these men have dishonoured _Religion_, others have defiled -MORALITY; yet both assume to themselves the title of _wise_ men; and -for that very reason, because they have departed as far as possible -from the virtue of _simplicity_. - -And here your indignation cannot but rise more especially against a -set of men, who, applying the subtleties of school-philosophy to the -plain science of Ethics, have made as free with the _precepts_ of the -Gospel, as some others had done with its _doctrines_. These men, under -the respectable name of CASUISTS, have presumed to wind up, or let down -the obligation of moral duties to what pitch they please. Such as have -taken the STRICTER side, deserve but small thanks for perplexing the -minds of good men with needless scruples; and discouraging the rest -with those austerities, which our Religion no where commands, and the -condition of human life will not admit. But for that _looser_ sort, -who by a thousand studied evasions, qualifications, and distinctions, -dissolve the force of every moral precept; and, as the Pharisees of -old, _make the word of God of none effect_ by their impious glosses, -I know not what term of reproach you will think bitter enough for -_them_. The sacred writers thought it sufficient to deliver the rules -of life in _general_ terms[125]; leaving it, as they well might, to -common sense and common honesty, to make the application of them to -_particular_ cases, as they chanced to arise. But this officious -sophistry intervening and perverting the ingenuous sense of the mind, -instructs us how to transgress them all with impunity, and even -innocence. By the help of this magic, we may extract the sting of guilt -from every known sin; and, if we have but wit enough, may be as wicked -as we please with a safe conscience. - -If the features of this corrupt casuistry have not been overcharged; -or, indeed, if there be any such thing in the world as a corrupt -casuistry, it may concern us to reflect, that this pest of society -could not have arisen but from a contempt of the Apostle’s rule, _of -being simple concerning evil_. - -III. Hitherto we have exemplified the breach of this rule in the -_learned_, and the _wise_. And it may be thought that nothing but -perverted science could qualify men for so prodigious a depravity. -But there is a casuistry of _the heart_, as well as head; and we find -by woeful experience, that men may refine themselves out of that -_simplicity_ which the Gospel enjoins, without the assistance of -_unblessed knowledge_. - -For I come now, in the last place, to instance in the vulgar tribes -of _libertine and careless men_. Of whom we may observe, that when -indulged passion has taught them to make light of an honest mind; -the consequence is, that they run into all excesses, and are rarely -hindered from _working all uncleanness with greediness_. It is true, -indeed, that no man becomes at once desperately and irretrievably -wicked. But it is not less true, that when this great step is taken -of prevaricating with a man’s own conscience, the other stages of -iniquity are presently passed over. And how indeed can it be otherwise? -So long as a man preserves the integrity of his natural disposition, -there is always hope that, though particular passions may prevail for -a time, reason and virtue will, in the end, regain their dominion -over him. At least, he will be constantly checked and kept back in -the career of his vices. But when this sincerity of heart is lost; -when he confounds the differences of right and wrong, palliating the -deformities of vice, or bestowing on vice itself the attractions of -virtue; then all reasonable expectation of a return is cut off; since -this perverted ingenuity tends to make him easy under his sins, and -leaves him at leisure to pursue his evil courses with security. - -We see then from the excesses into which these different sorts of men -have been led, by the refinements of POLICY, of ABUSED SCIENCE, and -DELUSIVE PASSION, how dangerous it is to bid adieu to that _simplicity -concerning evil_, which the Holy Apostle requires of us. - -It remains, that we cannot provide too cautiously against those evasive -PLEAS AND PRETENCES, which would incline us to part with it. - -These PRETENCES are infinite: for, when the _heart_ is corrupted, the -_understanding_ is ready to pander to every lust that importunes it. -But we may know the principal of them by these signs. To be _simple -concerning evil_ is the easiest thing in the world; but we may suspect -that something _wrong_ is ready to intrude itself, “WHEN we cast about -for excuses to cover the nakedness of ingenuity; when we are driven -to distinctions and far-fetched reasoning for our justification; -when we pause a moment between the clear conviction of duty, on one -hand, and any indirect views on the other; more _particularly_, WHEN -we find the tone of our virtue relax at the consideration of what we -may chance to lose by adhering to it; when we but suspect, that a -severe unqualifying virtue looks like inhumanity; when we think our -dependencies and connexions in life have a demand upon conscience; -when we lament with the politician, that _good men are impracticable_, -and so, from a principle of public spirit, resolve not to encounter -that prejudice: Above all, when we go about to regulate morality by -what _a knowledge of the world_ teaches; when _custom_ is pleaded in -opposition to _duty_, and vice itself authorized by _fashion_[126]; -when we acknowledge what we do is in itself not justifiable, but excuse -it by a pretence of the good ends we hope to serve by it; when we are -willing to plead the infirmity of nature, the power of temptation, the -prevalence of example; when we venture too securely on the confines of -immorality, and are curious to know how near we may go to vice, without -being directly vicious.” - -These, and such as these, are the dangerous insinuations which attempt -our virtue. And how, you will ask, shall we secure ourselves from them? -By reason and argument? By speculation and philosophy? Shall we stay to -examine their several pretences, call these delusive pleas to account, -and shew we can confute them all, before we reject them? - -Alas, I dare not advise this method; which besides its other -inconveniencies, is not, I doubt, a very safe one. Our heads may be -unequal to the task; or, which is worse, our hearts may betray us. -At the best, we shall waste much time in these ingenious inquiries, -when the business of life demands an immediate determination. St. -Paul has shewn us a shorter and _more excellent way_, when he bids us, -_Be simple concerning evil_. In virtue of this sacred admonition, a -wise man will think it sufficient to dismiss these vain insinuations -at once, without so much as spending a thought upon them. “What,” -he will say to himself, “if I cannot detect the falsehood of these -pleas, I have a _heart_, that revolts against them. I cannot, perhaps, -disentangle the sophistry of these arguments; but I _feel_ the baseness -of the conclusion, and I _see_ in others the folly of acting upon it. -It were ill with _vice_ indeed, if it had no false colours to appear -in; and _error_ would be hooted out of the world, if she did not hide -her obliquities under the garb of reason. But what are these disguises -to me, who am neither dazzled by the one, nor duped by the other? Let -the curious, if they will, inquire, wherein the imposture consists: -I have that within me, which tells me in a moment, they are but -impostures. In vain then, will such a one conclude, are these insidious -attempts on me, who take a sure refuge in the word of God, and the -integrity of my own virtue. Be the pretences what they will, the -confutation of them is no part of a Christian’s care. I may exercise my -understanding profitably in other matters. It is my duty to consider -much of the ways of _doing good_. I may be prudent and WISE here. But, -EXPERIENCE, and CONSCIENCE, and RELIGION, command me to be, SIMPLE -CONCERNING EVIL.” - - - - -SERMON XVII. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 22, 1772. - -JOHN v. 44. - - _How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek - not the honour that cometh of God only?_ - - -It has been thought unfair to charge unbelief, simply and -indiscriminately, on the grosser passions. The observation, I believe, -is just: and yet it may be true, notwithstanding, that unbelief is -always owing to _some or other_ of the passions. The evidences of -revealed religion are so numerous, and upon the whole so convincing, -that one cannot easily conceive how a reasonable man should reject -them all, without the intervention of some secret prejudice, or -predominant affection. - -Of these _prejudices and affections_, one of the commonest, and the -most seducing of any to the better sort of unbelievers, is that -irregular love of _praise and reputation_, which our Lord condemns in -the text—_How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and -seek not the honour that cometh from God only?_ - -The question, we may observe, is so expressed, as if we _could not_ -receive honour from one another, and believe, at the same time; as -if there was a physical, at least a moral impossibility, that these -two things should subsist together. And we shall find, perhaps, the -expression no stronger than the occasion required, if, besides other -considerations, we attend to the following; which shew how inconsistent -a true practical faith in the Gospel is with the sollicitous and -undistinguishing pursuit of human glory. - -For, I. _The Gospel_ delivers many of its doctrines as inscrutable, and -silences the busy curiosity of our understandings about them: but the -_honour of men_ is frequently obtained by indulging this curiosity, and -pushing the researches of reason into those forbidden quarters. - -II. _The Gospel_ demands an humble and reverential awe in the -discussion of all its doctrines; such of them, I mean, as it leaves -most free to human inquiry: but this turn of mind is contrary to that -high courage and daring intrepidity, which the _world_ expects in those -who are candidates for its honour. - -III. _The Gospel_ prescribes an uniform and unqualified assent to -whatever it declares of divine things, whether we can or cannot -apprehend the reason of such declaration: but this submission to -authority, the _world_ is ready to call ill-faith, and to consider the -defiance of it, as a mark of superior honesty and virtue. - -Thus we see, that WIT, COURAGE, and PROBITY, the three great qualities -we most respect in ourselves, and for which we receive the highest -honour from each other, appear many times to the world with less -advantage in the Christian, than the unbeliever. Not, that Christianity -strips us of these virtues: on the other hand, it requires and -promotes them all, in the proper sense of the words; and they may -really subsist in a higher degree in the _believer_, than any other: -but they will often seem to be more triumphantly displayed by those -who give themselves leave to _disbelieve_; and the prospect of honour, -which that opinion opens to such men, is one of the commonest sources -from which they derive their infidelity. - -But to make good this charge against the unbelieving world, and to lay -open the mysteries of that insidious self-love, which prompts them to -aspire to _fame_, by the means of infidelity, it will be necessary to -resume the THREE TOPICS before mentioned, and to enlarge something upon -each of them. - -I. FIRST, then, I say, That He, who at all adventures resolves to -obtain the honour of men, _cannot believe_, because the unrestrained -exercise of his WIT, by which he would acquire that honour, is -inconsistent with the genius and principles of our religion. - -The fundamental articles of the Gospel are proposed to us, as objects -of faith, not as subjects of inquiry. As they proceed from the source -of light and truth, they are founded, no doubt, in the highest reason; -but they are for the most part, at least in many respects, inscrutable -to our reason. It is enough that we see cause to admit the revelation -itself, upon the evidences given of it: it is not necessary that we -should carry our researches any farther. It is not safe, or decent, -or practicable, in many cases, to do it. The just and sober reasoner -is careful to proceed on clear and distinct ideas, and to stop where -these fail him. But how soon does he arrive at this point? For the -sublime genius of Christianity reminds him, at almost every step, how -impossible it is, with the scanty line of human reason, to fathom -the _deep things of God_; and represses the sallies of his wit and -fancy, with this reflexion—_how unsearchable are his judgments, and -his ways past finding out!_ In a word, where he finds the subject too -obscure for his understanding to penetrate, or too vast for his ideas -to comprehend (and he presently finds this, when he attempts to reason -on the mysteries of the Christian faith) he checks his inquiries, he -believes, and adores in silence. - -But now this silence, this adoration, is ill suited to the restless -ambition of the human mind, when it aspires to the reputation of -profound and extensive knowledge. The vain reasoner would signalize -himself on all subjects, the most abstruse and mysterious, in -preference to others; and fears not to carry his presumptuous inquiries -to the seat and throne of God. He questions the revealed truths -of the Gospel as freely as any other; and finding them many times -inexplicable by the principles of human science, he triumphs in the -discovery, applauds his own reach of thought, and dazzles the world -into a high opinion of his wit and parts. The truth is, he decides -on subjects, which he does not, and cannot understand: but the world -sees, he decides upon them; and that is generally enough to attract its -admiration and esteem. - -Again: In such parts of revealed Religion, as lie more within the -cognizance of human reason, an inquirer may find difficulties, and -start objections, which the best instructed believer either does not -attempt, or is not able to resolve. Here, the triumph of wit over -faith is thought conspicuous, and is indeed seducing. For, while the -believer has only to confess his own ignorance, the infidel shines in -exposing and inforcing those difficulties and objections: And, when the -ingenuity is all on one side, it is rarely suspected, that reason and -good sense may be, with modesty, on the other. - -Nay, where the point in question can be effectually cleared up, -still their will generally seem to be more acuteness in discovering -a difficulty, than in removing it: And thus the subtle caviller in -religious controversy shall have the fortune to pass for a shrewder -man, than the ablest apologist. - -And that this advantage of reputation is, indeed, that which free and -libertine reasoners propose to themselves, you will see by calling to -mind the sort of subjects, which they are fondest to treat, and the -sort of character, which they are most proud to assume. - -In natural religion, the origin of evil, and God’s moral government, -are their favourite topics: in revealed religion, the fall of human -nature, its restoration by the death and sufferings of Christ, the -incarnation of the Son of God, and the adorable Trinity. But why are -these high subjects picked out to exercise their speculations upon? -subjects, in which the sublimest understanding is absorbed and lost; -subjects, which they well know (for I speak of the abler men in that -party) we have no faculties to comprehend. Why, then, are these -subjects preferred to all others? For an obvious cause: to shew how -ingenious they can be in perplexing human reason, if any believer -should be indiscreet enough to subject these mysterious truths to that -test. - -But the character, they assume, declares their purpose no less than the -arguments they delight to treat. For their pride is to affect a sort -of pyrrhonism, or universal doubt and hesitation, even on the plainest -points of morals; to controvert the most received principles and -opinions; and, as the sophists of old, _to make the worse appear the -better reason_, in all questions which they undertake to discuss. Would -you desire a stronger proof of the principle which actuates such men? - -II. It appears, then, how the ostentation _of wit_ leads to infidelity. -The affectation of COURAGE is another snare to those, who lie in wait -for the honour of men. - -The believer, it has been observed, presumes not to reason at all on -some points of his Religion. In others, he is left at liberty; yet on -these, he reasons, always with great reverence and circumspection. -Now, though this conduct be highly fit and proper, it is not so likely -to strike the observation of men, as a more forward and enterprizing -behaviour. Not only his understanding is restrained, but his spirit, -they say, is cramped and broken. The inconsiderate world, on the other -hand, is taken with bold assertions, and hazardous positions; which -it easily construes into a mark of high courage, as well as capacity. -A fearless turn of mind is a dazzling quality, and we do not always -distinguish between intrepidity and temerity. Thus it comes to pass, -that as the Christian’s love of peace and charity in common life, -so his cautious respect in religious matters, has been treated by -libertine men, as pusillanimity. He is considered, in the fashionable -world, as a tame and spiritless man; and in the learned world, as a -tame and spiritless reasoner. - -Hence, when we are bent, at any rate, upon _receiving honour one of -another_, we are tempted to make a display, not of our wit only, but -our courage: And, as nothing is thought a surer indication of this -quality, than to make light of that which the rest of the world hold -sacred, we easily see how a passion for this sort of fame betrays the -unbalanced mind into all the extravagancies of infidelity. - -The instances are frequent, and well-known. When the Philosopher of -Malmsbury, in the last century, took upon him to resolve all morality -and all religion into the will of the magistrate, whatever other end he -might have in view, the bold singularity of this paradox was, no doubt, -that which chiefly recommended it to himself, as well as surprized the -world into an opinion of his bravery: though we know, from his story, -that, in fact, he had no more of this virtue, than might well have -consisted with faith, and the fear of God. But vain man oft affects to -make a shew of that which he does not possess: and thus his defect in -true courage, may be the true account of his pretending to so much of -it. - -Still, the heart of man is more deceitful, than we have hitherto seen, -or can easily believe: For who, - -III. In the last place, would suspect, that an admiration of INTEGRITY -itself, as well as of _wit_ and _courage_, should seduce the unwary -mind into irreligion? Yet so it is, that men, intoxicated with the love -of fame, will sacrifice any virtue, the best quality they have, to the -reputation of it. - -The true believer admits, with a full and perfect assent, whatever -he takes to be clearly revealed in the Gospel; the most impenetrable -article of his creed, as well as the simplest proposition in morals. -All stands with him on the same equal footing of divine authority: no -matter, whether he can, or cannot, perceive the grounds of reason, on -which the Revelation is founded. - -But now this facility of belief, this entire resignation of the -understanding to the dictates of Heaven, the world is ready to suspect, -of disingenuity. And they who live only in the opinion of that world, -would not be exposed to so dishonourable a suspicion. - -The process of their vanity may be traced in this manner. They have -observed, that some persons (of their acquaintance, it may be) -pretend to more faith than they have. They suppose the same thing of -many others; and they suppose too, the rest of the world, the more -intelligent part of it at least, are in the same opinion. But they -pique themselves on their honesty: they will give no man leave to call -in question their good faith; the ornament of their lives, and the -idol of their hearts. And thus, as many men are ill-bred, for fear of -passing in the world for flatterers; so these men are unbelievers, that -they may not be accounted hypocrites. - -As extravagant as this turn of mind appears, it cannot be thought -incredible; especially when united, as it may be, with that pride of -understanding, and courage, before mentioned. “It is not for _me_, -(says a presuming inquirer to himself) who am distinguished by a reach -of thought and penetration from the vulgar, to admit, without scruple, -so extraordinary a system, as that of Revelation. I must doubt and -disbelieve, where others see nothing to stop at. Nor is it for a man -of my spirit to endure those shackles of reserve and respect, which -oppress the timid and servile believer. Above all, it becomes the -honesty, I profess, to take no part of my religion upon trust; an easy -submission to what is called authority, is, with discerning men, but -another name for insincerity. As I tender, then, the reputation of my -_wit_, my _courage_, and my _integrity_, it concerns me to take heed -how I entertain a belief; which may, at once, shake the credit of all -these virtues.” - -This train of sophistry, you see, is not ill laid; and one conceives -how a mind, transported with the love of false honour, may be caught by -it. - -At first, perhaps, the disbelief is _pretended_, only. But -pretences[127], continued for any time, become _realities_. And thus, -what was assumed, to give us the credit of certain virtues with -the world, or with that part of it to which we desire to recommend -ourselves, is at length embraced with a sort of good faith; and we are, -what we have seemed to be, at the instance indeed of our vanity, but, -as we flatter ourselves, for the sake of those very virtues. - -Something like this, which I have here described, may have been the -case of a well-known philosopher, who would be thought to crown his -other parts of ingenuity and courage, with the purest probity[128]. -This unhappy man, having published to the world an offensive system of -infidelity, and being called to account for it, replies to his censurer -in these words—_The world may calumniate me, as it sees fit; but it -shall never take from me the honour of being the only author of this -age, and of many others, who hath written with good faith_[129]. - -What shall we say of this strange boast? Was it enthusiasm, or the -pride of virtue, that drew it from him? This _honest_ man, we will say, -might believe himself, when he talked at this rate: but then we must -conclude, that nothing but the most intemperate love of praise could -have wrought him up to so frantic a persuasion. - -I suppose, it may now appear how easily we become the dupes of any -favourite passion; and how perfect an insight our Lord had into the -nature of man, when he asserted in the text—_that we cannot believe, -if we will receive honour one of another_. _We cannot_, you see, -_believe_; because, if that honour be the ultimate end and scope of our -ambition, the best faculties we possess, the fairest virtues of our -hearts, will pervert, and, in a manner, force us into infidelity. - -Let this humiliating consideration have its full effect upon us. -Above all, let it check, or rather regulate that ardent desire of -fame, which is so predominant in young and ingenuous minds. Let -such learn from it to mistrust their passions, even the most refined -and generous, when they would inquire into the evidences of their -religion. Let them remember that _reason_, pure impartial reason, is -to direct them in this search; that the passion for honour is in all -cases, but particularly in this (where it is so seducing) an unsafe and -treacherous guide; and that, to escape the illusions of infidelity and -a thousand other illusions, to which they will otherwise be exposed -in common life, one certain method will be, To controul their love of -fame, by the love of truth; which is, in other words, _to seek the -honour, that cometh of God, only_. - - - - -SERMON XVIII. - -PREACHED APRIL 23, 1769. - -JOHN, ix. 41. - - _Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye should have no sin; but - now ye say we see, therefore your sin remaineth._ - - -These words were spoken by our Lord on occasion of a great miracle -performed by him, in restoring a man _born blind_ to his sight. This -wonderful display of power had its natural effect on the man himself, -in converting him to the faith of Jesus; while the Pharisees, who -had the fullest evidence laid before them of the _fact_, persisted -obstinately in their infidelity. Yet the _blind_ man, on whom this -miracle had been wrought, was one of those whom the Pharisees accounted -_blind_ in understanding, also; in other words, he was a plain -unlettered man; whereas they themselves were _guides to the blind_, -that is, they pretended to a more than ordinary knowledge of the law -and the prophets, by which they were enabled to conduct and enlighten -others. - -Jesus, therefore, respecting at once his late restoration of the blind -man’s _sight_, and the different effects of that miracle on the _minds_ -of the two parties, applies, with singular elegance, to himself, the -famous prediction of Isaiah—_For judgment_, says he, _am I come into -this world, that they, which see not, might see; and that they who see, -might be made blind_. The Pharisees were, indeed, sharp-sighted enough -to perceive the drift of this application, and therefore said to him, -in the same figurative language, _Are we blind also?_ To whom Jesus -replied in the words of the text, _If ye were blind, ye should have -no sin; but now ye say we see, therefore your sin remaineth_. As if -he had said, “If ye were indeed ignorant of the law and the prophets, -as ye account this poor man to be, ye might have some excuse for not -believing in _me_, who appeal to that law and those prophets for the -proof of my mission; but being so skilled in them, as ye are, and -profess yourselves to be, ye are clearly convicted of a willful, and -therefore criminal, infidelity.” - -It is implied, we see, in this severe reproof of the Pharisees, that -knowledge and faith very well consist together, or rather that, where -_knowledge_ is, there _faith_ must needs be, unless a very perverse use -be made of that knowledge. - -But to this decision of our Lord, the unbelieving world is ready to -oppose its own maxims. “It sees so little connexion between _faith_ -and _knowledge_, that it rather concludes them to be incompatible: It -allows the ignorant, indeed, who cannot _walk by sight_, to _walk by -faith_; but, as for the knowing and intelligent, the men of science and -understanding, it presumes, that _faith_ cannot be required of these; -and that, BECAUSE _they see_, it is too much to expect of them, _to -believe in Jesus_.” - -It is true, the persons, who speak thus slightly of _faith_, are -not the most distinguished in the world by their own parts, or -knowledge. But a certain mediocrity of _both_, inflated by vanity, and -countenanced by fashion, is forward to indulge in this free language; -and the mischief done by it to Religion, is so great, that it may not -be amiss to expose, in few words, the indecency and folly of it. - -FAITH AND KNOWLEDGE, then, it is said, are at variance with each other. -Why? The answer, I suppose, will be, Because _faith_ is in itself -_unreasonable_; in other words, it will be said, That the _evidences_ -of our religion are not convincing, and that the _doctrines_ of it are -not credible. - -One word, then, on _each_ of these bold insinuations. - -I. The EVIDENCES of _revealed religion_ are so many and various; they -lye so deep, or extend so wide; and consequently the difficulty of -collecting them into one view is so great, that few men have, perhaps, -comprehended the full force and effect of them. At least, none but -persons of very superior industry, as well as understanding, have a -right to pronounce on the total amount of such evidence. - -But the _chief_ evidences of the _Christian Religion_ are drawn from -PROPHECIES, and MIRACLES; and who are they who tell us, that these -methods of proof are unreasonable or unsatisfactory? - -1. That the argument from PROPHECIES should not convince those, who -have not considered the occasion, and design of them, the purposes -they were intended to serve, and therefore the degree of light and -clearness, with which it was proper they should be given; who have -not studied the language in which those prophecies are conveyed, the -state of the times in which they were delivered, the manners, the -customs, the opinions of those to whom they were addressed; above all, -who have not taken the pains to acquire a very exact and extensive -knowledge of history, and so are not qualified to judge how far they -have been accomplished; that to such persons as these, I say, the -argument from prophecy should not appear to have all that evidence -which believers ascribe to it, is very likely; but then this effect is -to be accounted for, not from their knowledge, but their ignorance, -not from their _seeing_ too clearly, but from their not seeing at all, -or but imperfectly, into the merits of this argument. As for those, -who have searched deepest, and inquired with most care into this kind -of evidence, they depose unanimously in its favour, and profess -themselves to have received conviction from it. So that, although there -may be difficulties in explaining particular prophecies, and though the -completion of some be questioned, or not fully apprehended, yet, on the -whole, there is so much light arising out of this evidence, that it -must be great presumption in any man to say that there is no strength -at all in it. Indeed, if the appeal lie to authority (as it must do, -if men will not, or cannot, inquire for themselves) we can scarce help -concluding that the argument from prophecy carries with it a very -considerable degree of evidence, since we find that such a man as -Newton, not only submitted to this evidence himself, but thought it no -misapplication of his great talents, to illustrate and enforce it. Yet, -such is the judgment or temper of our leaders[130] in infidelity, that -they had rather turn this very circumstance to the discredit of human -nature itself (exhibited in its fairest form, and shining out with full -lustre, in the virtues and accomplishments of that divine man) than -allow it to do honour to that immortal object of their fear and spite, -revealed religion. - -2. The other great foundation of our faith is laid in MIRACLES; a sort -of evidence, which may be estimated without that learning, or that -sagacity, which is required in the case of _prophecies_; and which some -men therefore, out of the abundance of their common sense, have taken -the freedom to account of little weight or value. Yet, what opinion -soever these persons may have of their own understandings, they will -scarce be able to convince a reasonable man that this evidence is not -conclusive, and even incontestible, if they will but place it in a -fair and just light. For the question is not concerning the evidence -of miracles in _general_, but of miracles so circumstanced and so -attested as those of the _Gospel_. Now, when the Religion to which -this attestation is given, has nothing in it which appears unworthy -of the Deity; when the purpose for which the supposed miracles are -wrought is such as must be allowed the most important of any that, in -our ideas, could enter into the divine counsels with regard to mankind; -when these miracles have further the advantage of being attested by -the most unexceptionable characters, and of being recorded in books, -written soon after they were _wrought_, and by those who _saw_ them -wrought, and in books too, which have been transmitted, without any -note of suspicion on them, to our times; when, lastly, these miracles -have all the circumstances of public notoriety attending them, when no -contemporary evidence discredits, and when many otherwise inexplicable -facts and events, suppose and confirm them; when such miracles, I say, -as these, and under such circumstances only, are alledged in support of -the Christian Revelation, it must be a very extraordinary turn of mind -that can reject, as nothing, the evidence resulting from them. With -any other miracles, however numerous, however confidently asserted, or -plausibly set forth, we have nothing to do. There may have been ten -thousand impostures of this sort, in the world. But _these_ miracles -speak their own credibility so strongly, that they are admitted, on -human testimony, with the highest reason; and it must be more than a -slender metaphysical argument, taken from their contrariety to what is -called experience, which can prevent our belief of them, and overpower -the natural sense of the human mind. - -It seems then, even on this slight view of the subject, that, if these -two capital arguments from _prophecies and miracles_, for the truth of -Christianity, appear inconclusive to unbelievers, the cause must be -some other than a want of that evidence, which may satisfy a reasonable -man. - -II. But, perhaps the DOCTRINES of Christianity are such as revolt the -rational mind, and are not capable of being supported by any evidence. - -Let us inquire then what truth there is in this _second_ allegation of -unbelievers. - -It is not possible, in a discourse of this nature, to enter into a -detail on the subject; but the chief obstacles to a faith in Jesus, -independently of the evidence on which it rests, are, I suppose, these -TWO. - -1. A confused idea that the law of nature is sufficient to the -salvation of mankind; - -2. The mysterious nature of the Christian revelation. - -Reason, they say, is a sufficient guide in matters of Religion; -therefore, Christianity is unnecessary: Again, Christianity is all over -mysterious; therefore, it is unreasonable. - -Now, it will not be presuming too much to say, that the greater -advances any man makes in true knowledge, the more insignificant must -these _two_ great stumbling-blocks of infidelity needs appear to him. - -1. And, _first, for the sufficiency of nature in matters of religion_. - -Whether _nature_ be a sufficient guide in _morals_, let the history of -mankind declare. They who know most of that history, and have, besides, -a philosophic knowledge of human nature, are the proper judges of the -question; and to that tribunal I leave it: the _rather_, because, -though it be very clear what its decision must be, I hold, that what is -most essential to the Christian religion (which is a very different -thing from _a republication of the law of nature_) is not at all -concerned in it. - -Let the law of nature be what it will, under this idea of a guide in -morals, let Socrates, if you please, be as great a master of it, as -Jesus, still the importance of Christianity remains, and is indeed very -little affected by that concession. - -Our religion teaches, that man is under the sentence of mortality, -and that immortal life in happiness, (which is the true idea of -Gospel-salvation) is the gift of God through Christ Jesus. These -it relates as _two_ facts, which it requires us to believe on its -own authority; _facts_, which could not otherwise have come to our -knowledge, and on which the whole superstructure of Christianity is -raised. - -Now, let the men of reason, the men who say, WE SEE, tell us, whether -they are sure that these facts are false; and, if they are not, whether -they know of any natural means by which _that sentence of mortality_ -can be reversed, or _that gift of immortality_ can be secured. - -Yes, they will say, by _a moral and virtuous life_, and by a _religious -trust_, which nature dictates, _in the goodness of the Deity_. What? Is -any man so assured of his own virtue, as that he dares expect so great -things from it? Does he think it so perfect and of such efficacy, as -that it should remove a curse which lies on his nature, that it should -redeem him from a general sentence, which is gone forth against all -mankind? Is it not enough, that he does his duty (though where is the -man that does that?) and thereby consults his own true interest in -this world, without requiring that his merits should deliver him from -the doom of death; or that, of force, they should compel the divine -_goodness_ to deliver him from it? - -But say, that the boundless mercy of God might so far consider the -poor imperfect virtues of his lost creature, as to free him from the -bondage of _death_, will he pretend that he has any claim, even upon -infinite goodness itself, for _eternal life in glory_? All that reason -suggests is, that, some way or other, either in this state or in one to -come, he shall be no loser by his virtue: but so immense a reward is -surely, not of _right_; and reason is too modest to entertain the least -expectation, or even thought of it. - -You see then what the _sufficiency of nature_ comes to: It leaves us, -for any thing we know, under the sentence of _death_; and, for any -thing we can do, very much short of _eternal life_. And is this all we -get by following _nature_, as our all-sufficient guide, and rejecting -the assistance of _Revelation_? Are men satisfied to live, as they do -here, and then to die for ever; and all this, rather than condescend to -lay hold on the mercy of God through Jesus? If they are, their ambition -is very moderate; but, surely, this is not a moderation of that sort -which is prescribed by _reason_. - -2. But they fly now (and it is their last resource) to the _mysterious -nature of the dispensation itself_, which, they say, is perfectly -irreconcileable with the principles of natural reason. - -That Christianity is _mysterious_, that is, that it acquaints us -with many things which our faculties could not have discovered, and -which they cannot fully comprehend or satisfactorily explain, is an -undoubted truth.—The pride of reason, when, from human sciences, where -it saw much and thought it saw every thing, it turns to these divine -studies, is something mortified to find a representation of things -very different from what it should previously have conceived, and -impenetrable in many respects by its utmost diligence and curiosity. -But then, when further exercised and improved, the same reason -presently checks this presumption, as seeing very clearly, that there -are inexplicable difficulties every where, in the world of _nature_, as -well as in that of _grace_, and as seeing too, that, if both systems -be the product of infinite wisdom, it could not be otherwise. Next, -a thinking man, as his knowledge extends, and his mind opens, easily -apprehends, that, in such a scheme as that of Christianity, which runs -up into the arcana of the divine councils in regard to man, there will -be many particulars of a new and extraordinary nature; and that such a -dispensation must partake of the obscurity in which its divine Author -chuses to veil his own glory. - -Thus, we see, how the objections to the mysterious nature of the Gospel -spring out of pride and inconsideration, and are gradually removed, as -the mind advances in the further knowledge of God and itself. - -Now, suppose there had been no mysterious parts in this Revelation, -and that every thing had lain clear and open to the comprehension of -natural reason, what would the improved understanding of a wise man -have thought of it? Would he not have said, that the whole was of mere -human contrivance? since, if it were indeed of divine, it must needs -have spoken its original by some marks of divinity, that is, by some -signatures of incomprehensible wisdom, impressed upon it. Consider, -I say, whether this judgment would not have been made of such a -Revelation; and whether there be not more sense and reason in it, than -in that _other_ conclusion which many have drawn from the mysterious -nature of the Christian religion. - -IT MAY APPEAR, from these cursory observations, that _faith -and knowledge_ are no such enemies to each other, as they have -been sometimes represented; and that neither the _evidences_ of -Christianity, nor the _doctrines_ of it, need decline the scrutiny -of the most improved reason. Conclude, therefore, when ye hear a -certain language on this subject, that it is equally foolish, as it is -indecent; and that ye may safely profess a _belief_ in Jesus, without -risking the reputation of your _wisdom_. - -Another conclusion is, that, when unbelievers lay claim to a more than -ordinary share of sense and penetration, we may allow their claim, if -we see fit, for other reasons, but NOT for their disdainful rejection -of our divine religion. We must have better proofs of their sufficiency -than this, before we subscribe to it. We may even be allowed to -conclude, from this circumstance of their unbelief, that they either -_see not_ so clearly as they pretend, or that the case is still worse -with them, if they do. They are ready to ask us, indeed, in the prompt -language of the Pharisees to our Lord, _Are we blind also?_ To which -question, having such an answer at hand, we need look out for no other -than that of Jesus, _If ye were blind, ye should have no sin; but now -ye say we see_, THEREFORE _your sin remaineth_. - - - - -SERMON XIX. - -PREACHED MAY 12, 1771. - -1 COR. viii. 1. - -_Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth._ - - -There is none of our little accomplishments, or advantages, which we -are not apt to make the foundation of pride and vanity. When, upon -comparing ourselves with others, in any respect, we _entertain_ a -higher opinion of ourselves than we ought, this sentiment is called -PRIDE. And when we are forward to _express_ the good opinion, we have -of ourselves, to others, in our words or actions, (even though such -opinion be but proportioned to our desert) we give to this disposition -the name of VANITY. Each of these affections of the mind is, a real -vice: _Pride_, because it violates truth and reason; and _Vanity_, -because it violates Christian charity. - -But, of all the subjects of comparison which betray us into these -vices, none is thought to produce them so easily, and to inflame them -to that degree, as _learning or knowledge_. And we see the reason why -it should be so. For knowledge arises from the exertion of our best -and noblest faculties; those faculties which distinguish us to most -advantage, not only from the inferior creatures, but from each other. -Hence we are naturally led to place a higher value on this, than other -acquisitions; and to make our pride and boast of that which is, indeed, -the glory of our nature. - -The observation then seems well founded; and the Apostle advances no -more than what experience teaches, when he affirms in the text—THAT -KNOWLEDGE PUFFETH UP. Where, however, we are to take notice, that the -remedy for this vice is not ignorance (which, though for different -reasons, is as apt to engender pride and self-conceit, as knowledge -itself) but Christian love and charity. For, when the Apostle had -brought this charge against _knowledge_, _that it puffeth up_, he does -not say that _ignorance_ keeps men humble, but that _charity edifieth_. -Whence it appears, that, to correct this excess of self-love, which we -call pride, the Apostle would not have us renounce the way of learning -and knowledge, but only increase our love and respect for mankind. - -Charity, then, is the proper cure of LEARNED PRIDE; and of -those unfriendly vices, which spring from it, _sufficiency_, -_self-importance_, and _ostentation_: And it will be worth our while -to consider, _in what_ RESPECTS, and _by what_ MEANS, this divine -principle of charity contributes to that end. And this it does - -1. By keeping men steady to that OBJECT, which they ought to propose to -themselves in the cultivation of knowledge, I mean the _edification of -each other—charity edifieth_. - -One of the ancient sects of philosophy carried their admiration of -_knowledge_ so far, that they made it _the supreme good_ of man, and -built their whole _moral_ system (if it might be called such) on -this extravagant idea. Whereas, common sense, as well as religion, -teaches, that knowledge, like our other faculties and attainments, -is only an instrument of doing good to others; not to be regarded by -us, as the end of moral action, or a good simply in itself, but as -one of those means by which we may express our moral character; and -promote the common interest of society, which (in subordination to -the will and glory of God) is the proper end of man. Now, if we keep -this end in view, which Christian charity sets before us, we shall -neither cultivate knowledge for its own sake (which is a strain of -fanaticism, unsuited to our present condition); nor for the sake of -that complacency, which may be apt to result from it; nor solely, for -any other selfish purpose to which it may serve: but we shall chiefly -and ultimately refer it to the use and edification of our brother; and -shall therefore suppress that inordinate elation of heart and display -of vain-glory, which tend so much to obstruct the success of our -applications to him in this way. - -2. Charity, estimating the value of knowledge by the good it _actually_ -does to others, finds the very foundation of pride and vanity, in the -application of it, in a great measure taken away. For, how divine -a thing soever knowledge may appear to the mind, when heated by -speculation, we shall find, in practice, that it falls very much short -of those glorious ideas we had formed of it; that the _real service_, -we are enabled to do to mankind by our most improved faculties, affords -but little occasion to the gratulations of self-esteem (which, when -resulting from such service, are, no doubt, more pardonable than in -any other case whatsoever); and that, if such gratulations arise in -us from some slight and partial services done to others, they are -sufficiently checked and mortified by the general ill success of our -most strenuous endeavours, and best concerted designs. The philosopher -and divine, after many studious days and sleepless nights, are ready to -promise to themselves great effects from their systems and apologies. -Alas, the world is little bettered or improved by them. Its amusements, -its follies, its vices, take their usual course. Reason and knowledge -are found but feeble instruments of its conversion. It attends so -little, or so negligently to its instructors, that it remains almost as -uninformed, and as corrupt as before. - -Such is too commonly the issue of our best pains in the cultivation of -moral and religious truth! Or, if in some rare cases it be otherwise, -and some sensible, some considerable, benefit result from them, still -it will be far less than the good man wishes and intends. For, burning -with this holy zeal of love to mankind, the charitable instructor of -the ignorant is in the condition of HIM, whose ambitious zeal the poet -so well describes: His successes do but inflame his desires; and _he -reckons he has done nothing, so long as there remains any thing for him -to do_[131]. - -So certainly does charity, in this work of learned instruction, -disconcert and subdue all the projects and emotions of pride! - -3. Charity takes a sure way to counteract those movements of vanity and -self-applause, which the pursuits of knowledge are apt to excite, _by -confining our attention to solid and important subjects_. For, when the -mind is thus employed, it naturally refers its acquisitions to _use_, -not vanity; or, if vanity should still find room to spring up with this -crop of useful knowledge, its growth would be much checked by this -benevolent and social attention: It would either die away amidst these -higher regards of duty and public spirit, or would lose at least very -much of its malignant nature, and of those qualities which render it so -offensive to mankind. Whereas, when we employ ourselves on frivolous -or unimportant subjects, which offer nothing to our view besides the -ingenuity of the speculation, and the distinction of the pursuit, these -ideas are so present to the mind, and engross it so much, that vanity -and self-esteem almost necessarily spring from them, luxuriant and -unrestrained. - -Besides, the mind, which loves to justify itself in all its operations, -finding but little real use or worth in these disquisitions, strives to -make itself amends by placing an imaginary value upon them; and grows -so much the more enamoured of them, as it foresees and expects the -neglect and indifference of other men. - -Hence, the sufficiency of such persons as wholly employ their time -and pains in the more abstract studies, in the minuter parts of -learning, and universally in such inquiries as terminate only or -chiefly in curiosity and amusement, is more than ordinarily glaring -and offensive. Their minds are _puffed up_ with immoderate conceptions -of their own importance; and this unnatural tumour they are neither -able, nor willing, to conceal from others. The secret is, they would -persuade themselves first, and then the world, that their studies and -occupations are less frivolous, than they in earnest believe or suspect -them, at least, to be. - -Now, Charity, indisposing us to these fruitless speculations, and -delighting to cultivate such parts of knowledge as have a real dignity -in them, and are productive of light and use, tends directly to keep -us modest, by taking away this so natural temptation to pride and -self-conceit. - -4. Further, we may observe that, of the more important studies -themselves, such as we call _practical_, are less liable to this -perversion of vanity, than the speculative, to what important ends -soever they may ultimately be referred. And the reason of the -difference is, that, in the former case, the calls of charity upon -us are more instant. We cannot stir a step in practical meditations -without considering what use and benefit may result from them: while -the speculative seem to terminate in themselves; are pursued, for the -time at least, for their own sakes; and so, by keeping the ultimate -end out of sight, do not divert the mind enough from that complacent -attention to its own ingenious researches, whence the passion of pride -is apt to take its rise. - -Not but there are some parts of knowledge, which, though called -practical, and referring indeed to practice, have a different -effect. But these are such, as are in their own nature boastful and -ostentatious; calculated not so much for use, as pleasure; or, at most, -terminating in some private and selfish end. The proficients in these -popular arts and studies are tempted to regard, not the good _simply_, -which their knowledge might do to others, but the general influence of -it, and the consideration, which, by means of such influence, whether -to a good or bad purpose, they may draw to themselves. - -Of this sort was, too commonly, the study of eloquence in the ancient, -and sometimes, I doubt, in the modern world. Vanity is apt to mix -itself with these practical studies, and to result from them; the -question generally being, not how the greatest good may be effected by -them, but how the greatest impression may be made. - -Divine and moral subjects, _practically_ considered (though vanity may -creep in here), are more secure from this abuse. For, respecting the -spiritual and moral good of men, distinctly and exclusively, a regard -to the end must correct and purify the means. And thus we are not -surprised to find, that, while a vain rhetorician[132] is said to have -boasted, in the hearing of all Greece, that _he knew every thing_, the -sober moralist of Athens[133] readily confessed, _he knew nothing_. - -5. Another way, in which _charity_ operates to the suppression of -_pride_, is, _by increasing our good opinion of other men_. _Pride_ is -an elation of mind upon comparing ourselves with others, and observing -how much we excel them in any respect; and, in the present instance, -how much we excel them in point of _knowledge_. When the mind is wholly -occupied by _self-love_, it easily magnifies its own attainments, -and as easily diminishes those of others: whence the advantage, on a -comparison, must needs be to _itself_. But when _charity_, or the love -of others, prevails in us to any degree, we are willing to do them -_justice_ at least, and _but_ justice to ourselves: nay, our affection -to others makes us willing to see their good qualities in the fairest -light, to magnify to ourselves their excellencies, and to lessen or -overlook their defects; while on the other hand, it inclines us readily -to forego any undue claims of pre-eminence, and even to abate something -of what we might strictly claim to ourselves: whence the comparison -must be more favourable to _others_; and our pride, if not entirely -prevented, must be considerably reduced. Increase this charity, and the -pride still lessens; till, at length, it is almost literally true, as -the Apostle divinely expresses it, that, _in lowliness of mind, each -esteems other better than himself_; _better_, in respect to _knowledge_, -as to every thing else. - -6. Lastly, charity, not only by its qualities, but in the _very nature -of things_, is destructive of all _pride_. For what is pride, but an -immoderate _love_ of ourselves? And what is charity, but a fervent -_love_ of other men? It is the same passion of love, only directed to -different objects. When it is concentred in a man’s self, it naturally -grows abundant and excessive: divert some part of it upon others, -and the selfish love is proportionably restrained. Just as seas and -rivers would overflow their shores and banks, if they had no outlet -or circulation: but issuing forth in useful streams or vapours to -refresh the land, they are kept in due proportion, and neither deluge -the rest of the globe, nor drain themselves. Thus the affection of -_love_, if too much confined, would overflow in _pride and arrogance_; -but, when part of it is diffused on others, the rest is innoxious and -even salutary, as supplying the mind only with a _just and moderate -self-esteem_. - -Hence we see that charity, by its very operation, corrects the excesses -of self-love; and therefore of learned pride (which is _one_ of those -excesses) as well as any other vice, which the confined and inordinate -exercise of that passion is apt to produce. - -In these several ways then, whether, by prescribing the proper _end_ -of knowledge, _the edification of our neighbour_, an attention to -which must needs lessen the temptation to pride; or, by suggesting how -_imperfectly_ that end is attained by knowledge, which must mortify, -rather than inflame our pride; or, by confining the candidates of -knowledge _to solid and important subjects_, and, of _these_, rather to -_practical_ subjects, than those of speculation, both which pursuits -are unfavourable to the growth of pride; or, by increasing _our good -opinion of others_, engaged in the same pursuits of knowledge, which -must so far take from our fancied superiority over them; or, lastly, -_by the necessary effect of its operation_, which is essentially -destructive of that vicious self-love, which is the parent of such -fancies—In _all_ these respects, I say, it is clearly seen how -CHARITY, whose office it is to _edify_ others, is properly applied to -the cure of that tumour of the mind, which knowledge generates, and -which we know by the name of LEARNED PRIDE. - -There are many other considerations, no doubt, which serve to mortify -this pride; but nothing tends so immediately to remove it, as the -increase of charity. It is therefore to be wished, that men, engaged in -the pursuits of learning, would especially cultivate in themselves this -divine principle. Knowledge, when tempered by humility, and directed to -the ends of charity, is indeed a valuable acquisition; and, though no -fit subject of vain-glory, is justly entitled to the esteem of mankind. -It should further be remembered, that this virtue, which so much adorns -knowledge, is the peculiar characteristic grace of our religion; -without which, all our attainments, of whatever kind, are fruitless -and vain. Let the man of Science, then, who has succeeded to his wish -in rearing some mighty fabric of human knowledge, and from the top of -it is tempted with a vain complacency to _look down_, as the phrase -is, _on the ignorant vulgar_; let such an one not forget to say with -HIM, who had been higher yet, even as high as _the third Heaven[134]_, -“_Though I understand all mysteries, and all knowledge, and have not -charity, I am nothing_[135].” - - - - -SERMON XX. - -PREACHED NOVEMBER 19, 1769. - -ACTS OF THE APOSTLES, xxvi. 9. - -_I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary -to the name of Jesus of Nazareth._ - - -The case of the Apostle, Paul, as represented by himself in these -words, is so remarkable, that it cannot but deserve our attentive -consideration. - -The account of _those many things_, which he thought himself obliged -_to do against the name of Jesus_, during his unbelieving state, he -gives us in the chapter whence the text is taken. _These things_, -continues he in his apology to king Agrippa, _I did in Jerusalem, and -many of the Saints did I shut up in prison, having received authority -from the chief-priests; and when they were put to death, I gave my -voice against them. And punished them oft in every synagogue, and -compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly mad against them, I -persecuted them, even to strange cities._ And then he proceeds to speak -of his going, with the same authority, and the same zeal, to persecute -the Christians that were at Damascus; when, in his journey thither, he -was suddenly stopt in the career of his impiety by _a heavenly vision_, -which had the effect to overturn his former persuasion, and to make a -full convert of him to the Christian faith. - -1. From this account of himself, we learn, that Paul, in his Jewish -state, had been carried, by his zeal, into all the horrors of -persecution. And _these things_, he says, _he verily believed he ought -to do, contrary to the name of Jesus_. - -“But what, you will ask, did this _belief_ then justify those crimes? -And, are blasphemy, murder, and persecution, innocent things, from the -time that a man persuades himself he ought to commit them? This would -open a door to all the evils of the most outrageous fanaticism, and -evacuate the whole moral law, under the pretence of conscience.” - -In general, it would do so: and we shall presently find, that St. Paul -does not pretend to justify _himself_, notwithstanding _he verily -believed he ought to do these things_. But to see the degree of his -crime, it will be convenient, and but just to the criminal, to call to -mind, in the first place, the peculiar circumstances under which it was -committed. - -Paul was at that time a Jew; and, as a follower of this law, his -conduct, supposing his conscience to have been rightly informed, had -not been blameable; on the contrary, had been highly meritorious. For -the law of Moses made the restraint of opinions, in matter of religion, -lawful: Heterodoxy was to a Jew but another word for disloyalty; and -a zeal to see the rigour of the law executed on that crime, was the -honour of a Jewish subject. Paul, then, conceiving of Jesus as a false -prophet, and the author of a new worship, contrary to that of the God -of Israel, Paul, I say, regarding Jesus in this light, but conformed -to the spirit of the law, when he joined in persecuting the Jewish -Christians, and must esteem himself to have deserved well of it. - -And this he, in fact, did. For, reckoning up the several merits, -which, as a Jew, he might claim to himself, he mentions this -zeal of persecution, as one, which did him honour, under that -character—_Concerning zeal_, says he, PERSECUTING THE CHURCH[136]. - -The crime of Paul, then, as of the other Jews, in persecuting Christ -and his religion, was not _simply_ the crime of persecution (for, -had that religion been a false one, by the peculiar structure of the -Jewish œconomy, there would have been no crime at all in punishing -such of the Jews, as professed themselves of it); but his guilt was, -and, in general, the guilt of the other Jews was, in misapplying the -law to this particular case; in persecuting a just and divine person, -whom their own prophets had foretold and pointed out, who came in no -opposition to the Jewish law, nay, who came _not to destroy_, but _to -fulfill_[137]. - -The conclusion is, that, though _persecution_ be on no pretence of -conscience excusable in another man, yet in a Jew, and as directed -against an apostate Jew, it had not this malignity, and was not the -proper subject of his abhorrence[138]. - -To the question then, “Whether Paul’s belief justified his practice, -in the case before us, that is, whether he did right _in doing that -which he verily believed he ought to do_,” You may take his own -answer—_This_, says he, _is a faithful saying, and worthy of all -acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners_, -OF WHOM I AM CHIEF[139]. He owns himself, we see, to have been _the -chief of sinners_, that is, making all allowance for the hyperbole and -modesty of the expression, a very great sinner. And if you ask in what -respect, he tells you that, too: for, in the immediately preceding -verses, he declares the ground of this charge upon himself, _That he -had been a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious_. And in another -place he says of himself, _I am the least of the Apostles; that am -not meet to be called an Apostle, because I persecuted the church of -God_[140]. - -You see, then, that, notwithstanding his former religion authorized -him to persecute its enemies, notwithstanding he verily believed, that -he ought to persecute Jesus as such, yet he now condemns himself, -as having grievously sinned in giving way to that authority, and to -that persuasion. How is this conduct to be accounted for and made -consistent? plainly, by observing, that he had persecuted without -warrant, even from his former religion; that he had culpably and rashly -overlooked (what he might and ought to have seen) that Jesus was no -fit object of this severity even to a Jew, that he was no enemy or -subverter of the Jewish law, that he was no rebel to the God and king -of Israel, but came indeed from him, acted by his commission, and -displayed all the signs and credentials of the Messiah, in whom the law -and the prophets were finally to be completed. - -Without doubt, his being now of a religion, which forbad persecution, -under all its forms, sharpened his sense of this crime, and may perhaps -account for his calling himself the _chief_ of sinners; yet, that the -persecution of Christians was to him a crime, and that he had sinned -in committing it, he could not but know, and is clearly to be inferred -from his expression. All the use he makes of his Jewish persuasion, -is, but to palliate something what he knew was without excuse:—_I -obtained mercy_, says he, _because I did it ignorantly in unbelief_: -that is, because I persecuted in my _unbelieving_ state of a Jew, -and was kept, by the genius of the Mosaic law, from _knowing_ and -considering the general malignity of persecution. And that there may -be some ground of mercy in this consideration, who can doubt, when we -find the Son of God interceding for his very murderers on the same -principle—_Father_, says he, _forgive them, for they know not what -they do_. - -There was this difference, you see, between a Jewish and a Gentile -persecutor. The _Jew_ was answerable for his not seeing that Jesus -was the Messiah: The _Gentile_ was to answer for that ignorance, and -for his not seeing the general iniquity of persecution, on account of -religion. - -Paul, however, was certainly to blame; nay, he takes much blame on -himself, for acting _ignorantly_ against the name of Jesus, though his -ignorance was of the former kind only. - -2. But now another question, and a very important one, arises out of -this state of the case. Paul _verily thought_ that the religion of -Jesus was an imposture. Yet he was _mistaken_ in thinking so; and, what -is more, his mistake was highly _criminal_. - -What then shall we say to those persons, who affirm, that, provided a -man be _persuaded_ of the truth of his opinions, he is not answerable -for his mistakes? or, in other words, what becomes of that notion which -many have taken up, concerning _the innocency of error in matters of -religion_? - -I understand what is generally alledged in support of this candid and -conciliating opinion. But the text says expressly, that Paul _verily -believed he ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus_; and -with all this firmness of belief Paul was _the chief of sinners_. - -Men therefore conclude too hastily, when from the sole _persuasion_ of -their sincerity they infer the innocence of their errors. - -“But what then would you require of poor unhappy man, whose _reason_ is -naturally so weak, and whose _prejudices_ are often so strong?” Why, -to use the force he has; to consider well whether he be indeed sincere -(for to be firmly, and to be _sincerely_ persuaded, is not always the -same thing); to employ his reason, such as it is, with care, and to -controul his prejudices, what he can, by an impartial examination. - -All this, it will be answered, is already done. It may be so. Let me -then have leave to interrogate the sincere rejecter of Christianity, -and try his good faith, of which he is so well assured, by the -following questions. - -“Has he cultivated his mind, and furnished himself with the requisite -helps for religious inquiry? Has he studied the sacred volumes -with care? Has he considered their scope and end? their genius and -character? Has he fixed the boundaries of reason and of faith? Does -he know where the province of the former ends, and where that of the -second commences? Has he studied himself, his faculties and powers, his -wants and necessities? Has he weighed the importance of the search, -he is making into the will and word of God? Has he made that search -with a suitable diligence and sobriety? Has he accustomed himself to -the investigation of moral evidence? Has he collected, compared, and -estimated, what is brought in evidence for the truth of the Christian -religion? Has he, in short, (for I address myself to capable inquirers -only) omitted none of those means which reason requires, and employed -all that industry, and thought, and application, which the sincere love -of truth demands on so momentous an occasion? - -“Still, I have other inquiries to make. Has he approached the sanctuary -of religion with awe? Has he purged his mind from all gross, nay from -all refined vices? Had he no interest to serve, no prejudice to sooth, -no predominant passion to gratify, by a hasty conclusion concerning the -truth of Christianity? Or, (not to suspect a philosophic mind of these -vulgar illusions) had he no vanity to flatter, no capricious levity to -indulge, by a short and disdainful rejection of it? Had he no spleen -to divert, no regard of fashion, no partialities of acquaintance or -education to mislead him, from conviction? Had he no secret wish or -hope, which he scarcely durst tell to himself, that his inquiry would -end in doubt at least, if not in infidelity? In a word, can he assure -himself, that in these several respects, he had no bias on his mind, or -did his best at least to have none, against a conclusion, to which an -impartial love of truth might invite and compell him?” - -Had St. Paul himself been questioned in this manner, concerning his -sincere belief, that he _ought to do many things contrary to the name -of Jesus_, he would hardly, I suppose, have said, that he had fulfilled -all these conditions;—But we know what he did say, to himself and to -the world: He said, He was THE CHIEF OF SINNERS. - -So remote is persuasion from sincerity! and so little acquainted, many -times, are _innocence and error_! - -But ‘these questions, it will be said, may be retorted on the believer; -who may be neither more diligent, nor more impartial in his inquiries, -than the unbeliever.’ - -Allow that they may; yet observe the immense difference of the two -cases, in regard both to the _danger_ incurred, and to the _crime_ -committed. - -If I _believe_, on insufficient grounds, what do I lose? only what I -can well spare; my unbelief and my vices. And what do I gain? that, -which of all things is most precious to me; peace of mind, and the -hopes of heaven. On the other hand, if I _disbelieve_, I lose all that -is valuable in both worlds, and gain nothing but the sad privilege of -being set free from the restraints of this religion[141]. - -Consider, too, the difference of the _crime_, in the two cases. If the -Christian errs in admitting the truth of his religion, he has only -to answer for his ill judgment, at most: he could be drawn to this -persuasion by no criminal motives: for, which of these could bias -him to the belief of the holiest of all religions? If the error lies -on the other side, in rejecting this religion, how shall he know, -that, besides the blame of judging ill, some immoral purposes and -dispositions may not have secretly concurred to pervert his judgment? -The Christian may be unreasonable: but the unbeliever, I do not say, -certainly, but, is too probably _vicious_. - -Thus the danger, in all views, is on the unbelieving side. And if there -be difficulty in knowing when I am sincere, there is none in knowing -which of the two mistakes is safer and less criminal. - -It will be said, perhaps, that an inquirer may be biassed in favour -of Christianity by corrupt motives, that is, by views of _credit_ -or _interest_, attending the profession of it, in countries where -this religion is legally established. Without doubt. But such persons -can hardly put themselves in the case of St. Paul, and say, They are -_verily persuaded_, they ought to be Christians. For such gross motives -can be no secret to their own hearts, and they cannot but know that -Christianity condemns all such motives. I regard then such persons -in the light of _hypocrites_ confessed, and by no means in that of -_believers_. On the other hand, men may _affect_ to disbelieve from the -like views of _credit_ or _interest_, in certain circumstances; and so -become hypocrites of another kind; of which the number is, perhaps, not -inconsiderable. But I am here speaking of such corrupt partialities -as may consist with a firm belief, or disbelief of Christianity. And -here it is plain, the criminality is likely to be much greater in him -who without ground rejects, than in him who too hastily admits such a -religion. - -To conclude, then, with the case of St. Paul, which has given occasion -to these reflexions. - -No firmness of persuasion, it is plain, can justify a man in being led -by it into the commission of gross and acknowledged crimes. And the -reason is, that no persuasion of the truth of any principle can be -greater than that which every man has that he ought not to commit such -actions. If St. Paul’s persuasion saved him from this guilt, it was -owing to the peculiar genius of the Jewish religion. - -But, further, St. Paul was blameable for taking up that _persuasion_, -on which he acted. His mind had been corrupted by hasty prejudices, -and ungoverned passion. He concluded too fast, then, when he thought -his persuasion _sincere_, though it was indeed strong and violent. His -persuasion did not exclude error, and that error implied insincerity, -and so was not _innocent_. - -It follows from the whole, that we ought never to _act_ wrong on -the pretence of conscience; and that we should learn to suspect the -possibility of guilt’s mixing itself even with what we call our -speculative opinions. Error may be innocent; but not so long as truth -lies before us, and we may, if we do our duty, discover it. Let our -inquiries, then, in all matters of moment, above all in those of -religion, be diligent, and strictly honest. Where these precautions are -not observed, our mistakes are always blameable, because in some degree -they are wilful and insincere. - - - - -SERMON XXI. - -PREACHED MAY 10, 1767. - -St. LUKE, vi. 26. - -_Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you._ - - -Among other _woes_ denounced in this chapter by our Saviour against -different sorts of men, we have one in the text against _those, of whom -all men speak well_. - -The reason of this severe sentence may not appear at first sight: -first, because it may not immediately occur to us, what hurt or -inconvenience there can be in every man’s good word; and, secondly, -because every man’s good word is not likely to be had. - -As to this last particular, it is true, the praise of _all men_, in -the full extent of the words, is not to be obtained. But the sense of -the text requires, only, that we understand a very general praise; -and this we see many men obtain: And if we only want to know, in what -respects, the possession of this praise can be deemed a misfortune, we -shall find them, I suppose, (without looking further) in the following -considerations. - -The WOE, of being _well spoken of by all men_, may be apprehended, -if we reflect, That (taking the world as it is) its good word, so -largely bestowed on any man, implies _a mediocrity of virtue, at the -best_;—that it frequently implies, _a considerable degree of positive -ill-desert_;—that it sometimes implies, _a thorough depravity and -prostitution of the moral character_. - -From these THREE considerations, I propose to illustrate the _woe_ of -the text.—In moral discourses, it is scarce possible to avoid very -general assertions. These may sometimes want to be restrained: but ye -will do it for yourselves, as ye see cause; for the appeal lies, all -along, to your own bosoms and experience. - -I. I say then, _first_; that to be _well spoken of by all men_, implies -A MEDIOCRITY OF VIRTUE AT THE BEST. - -And the assertion is founded on many reasons. An eminent degree -of virtue excites envy; is not generally understood; is unapt to -accommodate itself to men’s views and expectations; and, lastly, is -liable to some excesses, and connected with some infirmities, which -are either peculiar to itself, or would less disgrace a virtue of the -common stamp. - -Let us weigh these several reasons. - -1. The chapter of _envy_ is a common one, and has been exhausted by -every moralist. When a man’s worth lifts him above the generality -of his species, he is thought to depress those who feel themselves -beneath him. Their pride is hurt, their self-love is mortified, by -the acknowledged preference. And in this state of things, no wonder -that much industry is employed to obscure a virtue, whose unclouded -splendour would give pain. - -2. But men sometimes detract from a superior character, with perfect -good faith. It is not envy, but _inapprehension_, which sets them on -work. For it is with some virtues, as with those sublimer graces in a -work of art of genius: few, but such as could have set the example, -have any idea or conception of them. - -Thus, a disinterested goodness, when carried to a certain length; a -generosity of mind, when stretched beyond certain bounds; a sense of -honour, operating to a certain degree; in a word, temperance, justice, -piety, humanity, any or all of these virtues, exalted to a certain -pitch, are either not comprehended, or are perhaps traduced, as marks -of folly and extravagance, by those who are not capable of ascending to -these heights themselves. Of which, the instances are so frequent in -all history, and even in common life, that no man wants to be reminded -of them. - -3. Still, if superior virtue were only envied, or ill-understood, -the misfortune would not be so great. It is, besides, _active, -enterprising, constant, and inflexible_. It contents not itself -with being merely passive, innoxious, blameless: it would oblige, -befriend, and merit of mankind. It would be distinguished by actual -services, or at least by glorious attempts. And in prosecuting these, -it consults no man’s occasions; bends to no man’s prejudices; leans to -no partial interests or considerations; is simple, uniform, invariable, -and holds on its course, steadily and directly, towards its main end -and scope. There is a magnanimity in true worth and goodness, which -scorns and rejects all disguises, and would appear and be itself. - -A character of this stamp is too awful to be popular. There is -something of terror in so sublime a virtue; and those who are -distinguished by it, may be esteemed, perhaps, and revered, but are -rarely applauded by the world. What difference between the divine -integrity of Cato, and the specious temporizing virtues of Cæsar! Yet, -if history had been silent, we should easily have known which of these -men was destined to be the idol of the Roman people. - -4. Nor is even this the worst. Virtue, in this exalted state, is not -easily restrained from running, at times, into certain EXCESSES: -_excesses_, which spring, as it were, from its very essence, and -which the truly wise allow for, excuse, and almost admire; but which -hurt the reputation more, with base and ordinary minds, than the -virtue itself, under a due exertion, serves and promotes it. - -When the virtuous Brutus, in the crisis of the Roman state, struggling -for its last breath of liberty, chose rather to put everything to -hazard, than _violate the strict forms of law and justice_[142]:—And -again, when our virtuous Falkland was kept, by his nice sense of -honour, from _taking some liberties_[143], which the duty of his place, -the public service, and the practice of all times, might seem to -authorize; when these great men, I say, erred from an excess of virtue, -a thousand tongues were ready to blaspheme, and even ridicule their -mistakes, while one or two only revered the honesty of mind, which gave -birth to them. - -These glorious excesses, which are frequent in a virtuous character, -hardly deserve the name of infirmities: yet _infirmities_, in the -common sense of the word, are the lot of human nature, in whatever -state of perfection. That heat of mind, which nourishes heroic virtue, -is apt to produce these; and, as the noblest genius sometimes lets fall -inaccuracies, which moderate talents would correct; so the best man -sometimes commits extravagancies, which a moderate virtue would avoid: -and when this mischance happens, the infirmity is sure to be observed, -and never pardoned. Or, let the weakness be such, as is incident to our -common nature; still its effects are very different; it shall eclipse -half the virtues of an excellent man, and, in a common character, be -either not seen, or not regarded. - -So true it is, that, to be _well spoken of by all men_, implies but -an ordinary share of virtue, at best! For, consider these several -circumstances, and see what a shade they cast on the reputation of -extraordinary men. To shine out in the full lustre of a general flame, -is reserved for those, _whose virtue is not of a size to give umbrage; -whose merits are to the level of all eyes; who adapt themselves with -dexterity to all occasions; and who are kept, by their very mediocrity, -from any infirmity, or excess_. - -And it would be well, if the _woe_ ended here; if the misfortune of -these applauded men were negative only, and amounted to no more than -the absence of vice, or the possession of virtue in the common degrees. -But, I doubt, it amounts to much more: it frequently implies - -II. A CONSIDERABLE DEGREE OF POSITIVE ILL-DESERT. - -When the Jews, in a fit of ignorant zeal, were taking up stones to cast -at our blessed Lord, he said to them: _Many_ GOOD WORKS _have I shewed -you from my Father; for which of_ THESE _works do ye stone me_[144]? -Intimating, that the resentment of a misjudging multitude is generally -occasioned by praise-worthy actions. On the same principle, when shouts -of popular applause are sounding in a man’s ears, he may reasonably -ask, _For which of my_ EVIL DEEDS _is this praise wasted upon me_? For -it is just as much to be expected that a clamorous praise should attend -a bad action, as that a clamorous rage should be excited by a good one. - -And if we look abroad into the world, we shall find, that it is not -virtue, in whatever degree, but some popular vice, that too oft engages -its warmest approbation. In fact, even a moderate share of virtue, -joined to an inoffensive character, shall more frequently secure a -man from the censure, than procure him the applause of mankind. To -be generally _well spoken of_, he must do more than not offend: he -must merit his reward, before it is conferred upon him. And, though -illustrious services may sometimes extort this reward, yet the surer -and easier way to obtain it, is to please. And when I am to please _all -men_, in order to obtain the suffrage of all, tell me what way there -is of executing this project, without dishonouring myself. Men are not -pleased, unless I humour their foibles, sooth their vices, serve their -ill ends, or unjustifiable passions; and _woe_ unto me, if I acquire -their good opinion by these means. - -But suppose I am restrained by some sense of decency and of duty, and -not disposed to run all lengths in my endeavours to please. Still it is -not nothing, to be silent where virtue bids me speak; it is something, -to give a man leave to think he is honoured by me for that which -deserves blame; it is base, to flatter and extoll immoderately even his -good qualities; and it is flagitious to countenance and inflame his bad -ones. - -Yet one or other of these ways must he take, who is ambitious of every -man’s good word. And is there no _woe_, think ye, in such a conduct -as this? Suppose I but sacrifice one virtue to my reputation, but one -generous quality to my passion for fame; still am I innocent in making -this sacrifice? Can I applaud myself for making thus free with my -moral character? Or, rather, have I not cause to humble myself under a -sense of my ill-desert? - -Yes, _woe_ to that man, who, to be well with the world, or with any -part of it, deserts any one virtuous principle, transgresses any one -known duty, corrupts his conscience with any one deliberate vice. Let -the world’s applause be what it will; he is a loser who gains it on -such terms. - -But I am still putting matters at the best; For, - -III. Lastly, this general acceptation, this mighty privilege of being -_well spoken of by all men_, sometimes, and not unfrequently, demands -a sacrifice, not of one, but all the virtues: it implies A THOROUGH -DEPRAVITY AND PROSTITUTION OF THE MORAL CHARACTER. - -Our delicacy will not bear to have this matter pushed home, and brought -directly to ourselves. Our self-love revolts against the imputation; -and no man applies so severe a censure to his own case, or that of his -acquaintance. Let us look abroad, then, for what we are willing to -shift off so far from us. - -Let us look for this opprobrious character in ancient times, and -distant regions, with which we may take greater liberties, and -concerning which we may discourse without offence. And when we have -found it, let us only remember that the character is no ideal one; that -it is fairly taken from the annals of human nature, and may therefore, -in part at least, concern ourselves. - -A noble Roman is described by ONE who knew him well, in the following -manner[145]: “He possessed, in a wonderful degree, the faculty of -engaging all men to himself, by every art of address, and the most -obsequious application to their humours, purposes, and designs. His -fortune, his interest, nay his person, was wholly their’s; and he -was ready to shew his attachment to them by every service, and, if -occasion required it, by every crime. He had the most perfect dexterity -in moulding his own nature, and shaping it into all forms. The men of -austere morals he could gain to himself, by a well-dissembled severity; -the more free and libertine sort, by an unrestrained gaiety. He could -equally adapt himself to the vivacity of youth, and to the gravity -of old age: with men of bold spirits and factious designs, he was -prompt, enterprizing, audacious; with the men of pleasure, he could be -licentious, luxurious, dissolute.” - -What think ye, now, of this character? With so various and pliable a -disposition, could he fail of being popular? And with so total a want -of principle, can we doubt of his being abandoned? He was, in truth, -both the one and the other. He was the favourite[146], and the pest of -his country: in a word, this man was, CATILINE. - -But let us turn our thoughts from such a prodigy, and conclude only -from the instance here given, that a character may be much applauded -and very worthless; and that, to be _well spoken of by all_, in a -certain extent of those words, one must be, if not a Catiline, yet an -unquestionably vicious and corrupt man. - -I have now gone through the several topics, I proposed to illustrate in -this discourse. - -My more _immediate_ design was, to explain and justify the text; to -shew that it spake not without reason when it spake, perhaps, somewhat -differently from our expectations; and that our divine master had -abundant cause to pronounce a _woe_ on those, of whom the world is so -ready to speak well. - -But in doing this, I persuade myself, I have done more; and, in shewing -the reasons of this _woe_, have said enough to repress and mortify that -lust of general praise, which is so fatal to our virtue, as well as -happiness. For what can be more likely to restrain men from this folly, -than to let them see, that the prize, they so ambitiously contend -for, would be a misfortune to them, if it could be obtained; since a -very general praise is rarely conferred, at best, but upon a feeble -imperfect state of virtue; is, frequently, the reward of positive -ill-desert; and is, sometimes, the pay, that men receive for the -greatest _crimes_. - -These considerations shew the only true praise to be that which a well -informed mind gives to itself. This praise is pure and unmixed; is -only bestowed on real merit; and is nicely proportioned to the several -degrees of it. It is the earnest too of every other praise, which ought -to be precious to us. For, when conscience approves, good men and -angels are ready to applaud: nay, when _a man’s heart condemns him not, -then has he confidence towards God_[147]. - -To conclude: it is in this contention of human life, as in those games -of which the ancient world was so fond: the success consists not in the -acclamations of the attending multitude, but in the crown which the -victor receives at the hands of the appointed judge. If he obtains that -great prize, it is of little moment whether the rest follow or not. The -applause of the by-standers may add to the noise and pageantry of the -day; but the triumph is sincere and complete without it. - -As then it would be arrogance and inhumanity to reject universally the -good opinion of the world, so it would be folly, or something worse, -to dote upon it. If it may be honestly obtained, it is well: if not, -let the friend of virtue; above all, let the follower of Jesus, console -himself, under the loss of it, with this reflection, “That it is no -certain argument of true honour and true happiness, nay, that it is a -presumption to the contrary, to be found in the class of those, _of -whom all men speak well_.” - - - - -SERMON XXII. - -PREACHED FEBRUARY 6, 1774. - -St. JOHN viii. 9. - -_Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee; Go, and sin no more._ - - -Every one understands the occasion of these words: _The absolution of -the woman taken in adultery_, says an ancient writer, _has been always -famous in the church_[148]: Indeed _so_ famous, that some, who know but -little of the other parts of the Gospel history, pretend to be well -acquainted with this; from which they draw conclusions so favourable to -their own loose practices, that others of stricter morals have been -disposed to question its authenticity, and to expunge this obnoxious -passage from the sacred books. - -The attempt, indeed, has not succeeded. The obnoxious passage is -unquestionably authentic. But what then shall we say to the narrative -itself? How are we to expound it consistently with the known character -of Jesus? and how are we to obviate the ill consequences which seem so -naturally to flow from it? - -These questions will be answered by considering attentively the nature -and circumstances of the case: from which it will appear, that this -decision of our Lord is founded on the highest wisdom; and, when seen -in its true light, affords no countenance to the licentious glosses -of one party, and needs give no alarm to the scrupulous fears and -apprehensions of another. - -The fact is related by the sacred historian in these words: “The -Scribes and Pharisees brought to him a woman taken in adultery; and -when they had set her in the midst, they say to him, Master, this -woman was taken in adultery in the very act. Now, Moses in the law -commanded, that such should be stoned; but what sayest thou?” - -Thus far we see there was no difficulty. A crime had been committed, -and might be proved; and their law had appointed the punishment. Why -then do the Scribes and Pharisees apply to Jesus, for his judgment in -the case? The text tells us; for it follows immediately—“This they -said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him.” They came to -him then, not for any information about the nature of the crime, or of -the punishment due to it; the crime had been distinctly specified in -their law (the authority of which Jesus admitted, as well as they) and -the sort of punishment had been distinctly specified, too: But they -came with the insidious design of _tempting him_; that is, of drawing -some answer from him, which might give them an occasion to accuse him, -either to the people, or to the rulers of the Jewish state. - -In what then did their temptation consist? Or, what crime was it, of -which, by thus tempting him, they supposed they _might have to accuse -him_ to the Jews? The answer to this question will lead us into a -proper view of our Lord’s conduct on this occasion, and will enable -us to form a right judgment of the manner in which he disappointed the -malice of his insidious tempters. - -We find in the preceding chapter of St. John’s Gospel, that _the Jews -sought to kill him_, ver. 1.; and that, being alarmed at the progress -of his doctrine among the people, _the Pharisees and chief priests -had even sent their officers to take him by force_, ver. 32. But this -project failing in the execution, by the growing favour of the people -towards him, and by the strange impression which the doctrine of Jesus -had made on those officers themselves, they found it expedient to try -other and more indirect methods. - -For this purpose, having taken a woman in adultery, they supposed -they had now obtained a certain method of accomplishing their designs -against him. They therefore bring her to him, and say, _Master, this -woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now, Moses in the law -commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?_ - -They concluded, that his answer to this question must be such as would -give them a sure hold of him. For either it would be, that the law of -Moses was too severe; and then, they doubted not but he would fall a -sacrifice to the zeal of the people themselves, from whose favour to -him they had now the most dreadful apprehensions: or, if he justified -this law of Moses, and encouraged the execution of it (and this conduct -they had most reason to expect, from the known strictness of his life -and doctrine, and from his professed reverence for the law), in that -case, they would _have to accuse him_ to the Jewish rulers, as taking -to himself a civil and judicial character; or, rather to their Roman -masters, as presuming to condemn to death an offender by his own proper -authority; whereas _it was not lawful_ for the Sanhedrim itself, but by -express leave of the Roman governour, _to put any man to death_[149]. - -In short, either the people themselves would kill him on the spot, as -a disparager and blasphemer of the law; or, he would be convicted of -that capital crime, which their rulers wanted to fasten upon him, of -making himself _a king_, and so incur the punishment of rebellion to -the state. - -Such being the profound artifice, as well as malice, of this _plot_, -the situation of our Lord was very critical; and nothing but that -divine wisdom, by which he spake, and which attended him in all -conjunctures, could deliver him from it. - -Let us see, then, what that wisdom suggested to him in his present -perilous condition. - -Instead of replying directly to their ensnaring question, “He stooped -down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heared them -not.” His enemies, no doubt, considered this affected inattention as -a poor subterfuge; or, rather, as an evident proof of his confusion, -and inability to avoid the snare they had laid for him; and were ready -to exult over him, as their certain prey, now fallen into their hands. -They therefore repeat and press upon him their insulting question, -urging him with much clamour to give them an immediate reply. “So -when they continued asking him, as the historian proceeds, he lift up -himself, and said to them, He that is without sin among you, let him -first cast a stone at her. And, again he stooped down and wrote on the -ground.” - -The divinity of this answer can never be enough admired. He eluded -by it, at once, the two opposite snares they had laid for him: -he disconcerted all their hopes and triumphant expectations; and -carried, at the same time, by the weight of this remonstrance, and the -power which he gave to it, trouble, confusion and dismay into their -affrighted consciences. Without speaking a word against the law, or -taking to himself an authority which he had never claimed, and which -did not belong to him, he turned their _temptation_ on themselves; -and instead of falling a victim to it, astonished them with the moral -use he had made of it, and sent them away overwhelmed with shame, -conviction, and self-contempt. For it follows, “They which heared [this -reply] being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, -beginning at the eldest, even to the last; and Jesus was left alone, -and the woman standing in the midst.” - -This was no time, we see, for declaring his sense of the law of Moses, -or giving his assent to the execution of it; which, upon the least -signification of his mind, had certainly followed from the people (such -was their united zeal for the law, and reverence for his opinion). His -present purpose and duty was to preserve himself from a captious and -malicious question; but in such a manner as might consist with truth -and innocence, and even with a tender concern for the moral state and -condition of those questioners themselves. - -No man will then expect, that, in such circumstances, he should -expatiate, to the by-standers, on the heinous crime of adultery, -objected to this unhappy woman: a point, concerning which they deserved -not, from any virtuous indignation they had conceived against it, which -they wanted not, from any ignorance they were under of its general -nature, to be further satisfied or informed. They deserved, and they -wanted to be made sensible of their own guilt and wickedness; and of -this they derived from Jesus the fullest conviction. This was the sole -purport of our Lord’s reply to them: any other had been unseasonable -and improper; and therefore no man will now be surprized to find the -issue of this remarkable conference in the mild dismission which he -gives to the unhappy person, who had furnished the occasion of it. - -“When Jesus had lift up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said -to her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned -thee? She said, No man, Lord: Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn -thee; go, and sin no more.” - -The story concludes in the very manner we should now expect from the -preceding circumstances. The accusers of the woman had withdrawn -themselves; being convicted in their own minds, by the divine energy -of Christ’s reproof, of the very same crime, as some suppose, but -certainly of some crime of equal malignity with that, which they had -objected to this sinner. Their accusation had not been formed on their -zeal for the honour of the law, or any antipathy they had conceived -to the crime in question, but on the wicked purpose of oppressing -an innocent man. When they failed of this end, they thought not of -carrying the criminal before the proper judge, or of prosecuting the -matter any further. To the question then which our Lord put to her, -_hath no man condemned thee_, i. e. hath no man undertaken to see the -sentence of the law carried into execution against thee? she answered, -_No man, Lord_. _Neither do I_, continued Jesus, _condemn thee_: I, who -am a private man, and have no authority to execute the law; I, who -_came not to judge the world, but to save the world_, I presume not -to pass the sentence of death upon thee. I leave this matter to thine -accusers, and to the proper judge. But what my office of a divine -instructor of mankind requires, that I am ready to perform towards -thee. Let me admonish thee, then, of thy great wickedness in committing -this act, and exhort thee to repentance and a better life for the -future; GO, AND SIN NO MORE! - -Every thing here is so natural and so proper, so suitable to the -circumstances of the case, and to the character and office of Jesus, -that no shadow of blame can fall upon our Lord’s conduct; nor has any -man of sense, who considers the history, the least reason to conclude -that any countenance is hereby given to the horrid sin of adultery. -The mistake (if it be purely a mistake) has arisen from the ambiguous -sense of the words, I CONDEMN THEE NOT; which may either signify, _I -blame thee not, or I pass not the legal sentence of death upon thee_. -But they cannot be here taken in the former sense, because Christ -immediately charges the woman with her guilt, and bids her _sin no -more_; Nay, they can only be taken in the latter sense, because that -was the sense in which her accusers had _not condemned her_; for -otherwise, by bringing her to Jesus, and by their vehement accusation -of her, they had sufficiently testified their sense of her crime. When -Jesus therefore said, _Neither do I condemn thee_, he could only be -understood to mean, “Neither do I take upon me to do that which thine -accusers have omitted to do; that is, I do not condemn thee to be put -to death; a sentence, which however thou mayest deserve by the law of -Moses, I have no authority to pronounce against thee.” - -It should further be observed, that although the turn here given by -Jesus to this famous accusation be indeed favourable to the criminal -(and it could not be otherwise, consistently with his own safety, or -even duty) yet it insinuates nothing against the propriety of a legal -prosecution, nor gives the least countenance to the magistrate to -abate of his rigid execution of the law which is entrusted to him. -The mixture of mercy and humanity in Christ’s decision is indeed very -amiable and becoming in a private man; but had the question been, -“Whether it were not fit to prosecute so great a crime in a legal and -regular manner,” there is no reason to believe that his answer would -have given any check to the course of public justice. - -We see then from the whole narrative, and from this comment upon it, -That here is no encouragement given to any man to think more slightly -of the sin of adultery, than other passages of the Gospel, and the -reason of the thing, authorize him to do. The sin is unquestionably of -the deepest dye; is one of the most flagrant that men can commit in -society; and is equally and uniformly condemned by nature itself and -by the Christian morals. If, besides _condemning_, that is, expressing -his abhorrence of the sin, as Jesus did, he further made an adulterous -multitude sensible of their iniquity and savage inhumanity in calling -for the sudden and tumultuary punishment of one, who had deserved no -worse than themselves, this benefit was accessary and incidental to -the circumstances of the story; and, while it gives one occasion to -admire the address and lenity of our divine master, takes nothing -from the enormity of the crime itself, or from the detestation which -he had of it. In short, one cannot well conceive how Jesus could have -done more in the case, or have expressed his displeasure at the crime -more plainly, unless he had become a voluntary and officious informer -against the criminal; which, considering the occasion and his own -character, no man, I suppose, would think reasonable. - -To conclude: if men would call to mind the purity and transcendant -holiness of Christ’s character, as evidenced in the general tenour -of his history, and considered withall, that _never man spake as he -spake_, they could not suspect him of giving any quarter to vice; -and might be sure, that, if what he said on any occasion, had the -least appearance of looking that way, the presumption must be without -grounds, and could only arise from their not weighing and considering -his words, so replete with all _wisdom_, as well as goodness, with a -proper attention. The case before us, we have seen, is a memorable -instance of this kind: and let all readers of the Gospel be taught -by it, that to understand the Scriptures, and to cavil at them, -are different things. Let them be warned by this example, not to -impute their own follies to the sacred text, which they must first -misinterpret, before they can abuse: And, above all, let them take -heed how they _turn the Grace of God into licentiousness_; that is, -how they seek to justify to themselves, or even palliate, their own -corruptions, by their loose and negligent, if not perverse, glosses -on the word of God; on that WORD, by which they must stand or fall; -and which, like the divine Author of it, will surely in the end _be -justified in_ all _its sayings, and be clear when it is judged_[150]. - - - - -SERMON XXIII. - -PREACHED MARCH 1, 1772. - -St. MATTHEW, xi. 29. - -_Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: And ye shall find rest -unto your souls._ - - -The moral quality recommended in the text, was little known and less -esteemed[151] in the heathen world. Not that _humility_, in the -Christian sense of the word; hath no foundation in natural reason: but -heathen practice gave no countenance to this Virtue, and the pride of -heathen philosophy would make no acquaintance with her. - -She was left then to be acknowledged, for the first time, by Jesus of -Nazareth, who knew the worth of this modest stranger; and therefore, as -we see, recommends her to the notice and familiarity of his disciples -in the most emphatic terms. - -One would wonder how a virtue, so advantageously introduced into -the Christian world, should be so much neglected by those who call -themselves of it. But the reason is not difficult to be explained. - -I. It was seen fit, for the ends of human virtue, that, in moulding -the constitution of our common nature, a considerable degree of what -may be called _a generous pride_, should be infused into it. Man, -considered in one view, touches on the brutal creation; in another, he -claims an affinity with God himself. To sustain this nobler part of his -composition, the subject and source of all his diviner qualities, the -adorable wisdom of the Creator saw good to implant in him a conscious -sense of worth and dignity; that so a just self-esteem might erect his -thoughts and endeavours, and keep him from submitting too easily to -what the baser half of his nature might exact from him. - -Thus far INSTINCT goes: and, as yet, there is no blame. But then to -moderate this instinct, (a blind power of itself, and capable of great -excesses) to circumscribe its bounds, and direct its energies to their -true end, REASON, a much higher faculty, was conferred on man; and his -duty, thenceforth, was to give the reins to the natural sentiment, only -so far as this supreme arbitress of human life allowed. - -And hence his corruption and misery took its rise. He felt the -_instinct_ draw powerfully; and he would not take, or would not be at -the pains to ask, the advice of _reason_, who was ready to tell him how -far he might yield to it. - -This wilfulness, or negligence, broke the balance of his moral -nature; till _reason_, in this, as in so many other instances, was -little regarded; and the instinctive sentiment of _self-esteem_, -long since degenerated into lawless pride, was left to domineer as -it would; universally, in the Pagan world, and, though checked by -this seasonable admonition of our great Master, too generally in the -Christian. - -This is the true account of the first and fundamental reason, which -makes _humility_ so rare a virtue, and of so difficult practice, even -among the disciples of Jesus. - -II. A _second_ reason is almost as extensive as the former, because -founded upon it; I mean, the power of _habit and institution_. - -The bias of our minds towards a just self-esteem, not properly -directed, presently became _pride_: and pride, from being a general, -was easily mistaken for a _natural_ principle; which would then, of -course, be unconfined in its operation, and spread its influence -through every quarter of human life. - -Hence our earliest education is tinctured with this vicious -self-esteem, and all our subsequent institutions are infected with it. -It is cherished in the schools, under the name of emulation; and in the -world at large, under that of ambition. Either sex, every age, every -condition, is governed by it. The female world are called upon to value -themselves; and the male world to assert their own dignity. The young -are applauded for shewing signs of spirit; and the old must vindicate -themselves from contempt. The lower ranks of men are not to be trampled -upon; and the higher, not to be affronted. Our camps encourage it, as -the spring of courage: and our courts, as the source of honour. - -Thus pride predominates every where: and even the moralist or preacher, -who would give some check to this principle, is thought to have an -abject mind himself, or not to know that world, which he pretends to -inform and regulate. - -What wonder then that this impatient and tyrannical passion, which -has general custom, and therefore claims to have reason, on her side, -should yield with reluctance even to the authority of religion? - -III. _Another_ cause, which contributes to the same effect, a partial -one indeed, but of no small efficacy, where it prevails, is, perhaps, -the _Gothic principle of honour_, deeply interwoven with most of our -civil constitutions: a principle, in itself not friendly to Christian -humility; but, as confederated with the other two principles before -mentioned, what can it do but inflame them both, and give an infinite -force to all their operations? - -In these three considerations then, we have the true account and -history of _pride_, the bane of civil life, and the disgrace of our -moral nature. It springs, first, from the _natural sentiment_, easily -indulged too far: it is, next, fostered by _general habit_; and, in the -end, made sacred by _fashion_. Thus, its tyranny grew up, and is now -so complete, that _lowliness of mind_ is ill looked upon even in the -Christian world; and her offspring, _meekness_, (the more provoking of -the two, as being that virtue drawn forth into outward act) seems in a -way to be fairly dismissed from it. - -It would hardly serve to reinstate these despised virtues in their -pristine honours, to tell of their natures and conditions, to define -their properties, and deliver the grounds of reason on which their -pretensions are founded. Cold, abstracted philosophy, would do but -little in this service. Besides, few persons want to be informed -what humility is, or how becoming such a creature as man. And no -informations, in the general way of reasoning, could be given with so -much precision, but that a willing mind might find a way to mistake or -pervert them. - -’Tis well then that the text supplies another method of combating the -universal pride of mankind. It calls upon us to contemplate, in the -person of Jesus, the true and living form of _humility_; and holds out -a solid, and suitable reward to the votaries of this divine virtue. -Would ye know what it is to be _meek and lowly in heart? Learn of -Jesus._ Do ye ask for what end ye should learn this lesson of him? the -answer is direct and satisfactory, _Ye shall find rest to your souls_. -These topics, then, must employ what remains of this discourse. - -I. The particulars of Christ’s humility may be seen at large in the -history of his life. But they are summed up by the Apostle Paul in few -words. - -_Let this mind be in you_, says he to the Philippians, _which was also -in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it no robbery -to be equal with God_ [i. e. was in no haste to seize upon and assert -his right of equality with him]; _but made himself of no reputation, -and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness -of man; and being found in fashion, as a man, he humbled himself, and -became obedient to death, even the death of the cross_[152]. - -Who, that hears these words, can have a doubt concerning the nature -of humility, or concerning the duties of it? If heaven stooped to -earth; if Jesus descended from the dignity, I do not say of an angel, -or an archangel, but of God himself, to the abject state of man; if -he humbled himself to the lowest condition of that state; veiled all -his glories in the form of a servant; in that form administered to our -infirmities and necessities; bore all the scorn, the contradiction, -the contumely of injurious men; and even submitted himself to death, -the ignominious death of the cross, for their sake—If _this mind was -in Christ Jesus_, who but must see, that the greatest of mankind may -well descend from all his real or fancied eminence, for the service of -his brother? may easily forego the little advantage, which his birth, -his rank, his wealth, his learning, or his parts, may seem to give him -over his fellows, when an act of charity is to be performed by him; -when the distresses, the infirmities, nay the vices of humanity, may be -relieved, and covered, and corrected, by such condescension? To stoop -for such ends is almost pride itself: and to emulate such a pattern, is -scarce humility, but glory. - -Nor think, that this humility requires of you more than reason -requires. You may suppress your pride, without giving up necessary -self-defence. Ye may be _meek and lowly in heart_, without being -unjust to yourselves, or imprudent. When your essential interests are -concerned, ye may assert them with firmness, and even with spirit, in -all ways, which good sense allows, or true wisdom recommends. But let -not every petty injury, much less any fancied injury, be presently -avenged; let not little neglects or discourtesies be hastily resented; -overlook many injuries, if not considerable; nay, and many considerable -injuries, if they be but tolerable. Think not that your dignity will -suffer by such connivance. The true dignity of man, is the performance -of his duty. Or, if some indignity be sustained, consider on whose -account, and by whose command ye suffer it. Consider, that He, whose -dignity was infinitely above yours, submitted to _every_ indignity, and -for your sake. The authority of your divine Master is nothing, if it -cannot bind you in any instance to bear his _yoke_: And to what end is -the example of your divine Saviour set before you, if ye resolve, on -no account, to _take up your cross and follow him_[153]? - -But, because our compassionate Lord saw how uneasy this precept would -be to the indulged and inveterate pride of his followers, he has -therefore condescended to assure them that their obedience to it will, -even in this world, be attended with a suitable reward. _Ye shall find -rest to your souls._ And this - -II. Is the other topic, which I engaged to insist upon, in this -discourse. - -The great objection to the virtues of _meekness and humility_, is, that -the practice of them will put us to some present pain in resisting the -impulse of our disordered passions. It will do so. Nature prompts us to -repel an injury; and that nature, vitiated and depraved, is in haste to -repel it with indignation, and even fury. To give way to the impetuous -sentiment, would give us immediate ease; and to suppress it, till the -practice becomes habitual, will cost us some throws and agitation of -mind. To counteract this instant disquiet, a recompence is proposed, -exactly suited to the trial. Our mind is discomposed, for the instant, -by the struggle we have to make with the incensed passion: When that is -over, it settles again into a full and permanent tranquillity. _We find -rest_, as the text speaks, _to our souls_: we have the purest peace -within, and have no disturbance of it to apprehend, from without. - -1. The uneasiness which _pride_ engenders, receives, as I said, some -present relief, from the free course of that passion. But see the -consequence of giving way to it. Disgust, remorse, fear, and hate, -succeed to the indulgence of this fiery sentiment, I mean, when it -proceeds so far as to acts of revenge. But, if it stop short of this -extreme, still the mind, by nourishing its resentments, and brooding -over the idea of a supposed indignity, hurts its own peace; grows sore -and fretful, and suspicious; and, though it be somewhat flattered -by the first tumultuous effort of its indignation, which looks like -courage and high spirit; yet, the briskness of this sensation soon goes -off, and flattens into a sullen gloom of thought, the bane of every -selfish, as well as social enjoyment. - -It is much otherwise with the _meek and lowly in heart_. They never -retaliate injuries, and seldom resent them. They either feel not -the stroke of them; or, if they do, the wound is instantly healed -by the balsamic virtue of their own minds. But, indeed, a man, well -disciplined in the school of humility, receives but few injuries, for -he _suspects_ none; it being, I think, true, that, for one real injury -done us by others, a hundred such things, as we call by that name, are -only bred in our own captious and distempered imaginations. And then, -for those few injuries which he actually receives, they are easily -slighted or forgotten by him; because he sees them only in their true -shape and size, and not as magnified by an extravagant opinion of his -own worth, and as extravagant a contempt of the aggressor. He knows -his own infirmities, and can allow for those of other men. If they are -petulant or unjust, he, perhaps, has been inobservant or imprudent: -besides, he never thought himself entitled to any special respect, and -therefore wonders the less, if no great ceremony has been used towards -him. To these suggestions of humanity, he adds those of _religion_. -He knows what his Master enjoins, and he remembers on what terms the -injunction is pressed upon him. And thus, though the indignity seem -great, he easily excuses one half of it, and forgives the other. The -issue is, that he finds _rest_ in his own soul, which the proud man -never does: so that, as to internal peace, the advantage is clearly on -the side of meekness and humility. But then, - -2. As to _external peace_, the matter may be thought more -problematical. “For that softness of mind, which religion calls -_humility_, invites, it is said, and multiplies injuries. Forgive one -insult, and you draw upon you a hundred more so that, if humility be -a virtue, it is never likely to be out of breath for want of exercise -and employment. In a word, the world is so base, that there is no -keeping it in respect, but by _fear_: and how is that needful sentiment -to be impressed on the minds of injurious men, in those numberless -cases which civil justice cannot reach, but by a quick resentment and -personal high spirit?” - -Such is the language of those who have learned their ethics of the -world, and not of the Gospel. But let us see what there is in the -allegation itself. - -_To connive at one indignity, is_, they say, _the ready way to invite -another_. It may be so, in some rare cases, when we have to do with -singularly base and ungenerous natures; but even then, I think, -chiefly, if not solely, when that connivance is joined with imprudence -or folly: and then it is not humility should bear the blame, but our -own indiscretion. Besides, the question is concerning a general rule -of conduct: and this rule may be a fit and reasonable one, though it -admit, as most rules do, of some exceptions. - -Again, though a wise and good man will frequently suppress, and always -moderate resentment, yet neither reason nor the religion of Jesus -requires, that in no case whatsoever should we be actuated by that -principle. The principle itself, as I have shewn, is a natural one, and -under due restraint may serve to good purposes; one of which, perhaps, -is to give check to overbearing insolence and oppression, I mean when -it rises to a certain degree and exceeds certain bounds. Even our -blessed Lord, who was meekness itself, thought fit on some occasions to -express a very strong resentment: as, when he upbraided the Pharisees -in no gentle terms, but, in a just indignation at their malice, went so -far as to brand them with the bitter names of _vipers and serpents_, -and to menace them with the flames of _hell_[154]. So that meekness -and resentment are not absolutely incompatible; though the danger of -exceeding in this last quality is so great, that the general rule both -of reason and Christianity, is to cultivate meekness in ourselves, and -to restrain our resentments. - -“But, if exceptions be allowed in any case, the rule, it will be said, -becomes of no use; for that pride and passion will find an exception in -every case.” If they should, they must answer for themselves. In all -moral matters, something, nay much, must be left to the fairness and -honesty of the mind. Without this principle, the plainest rule of life -may be evaded or abused: and with it, even that hard saying, of _loving -our enemies_, which is near of kin to this of _meekness_, is easily -understood, and may be reasonably applied. - -“Still, the rule, it is said, must be an improper one; for that the -world, not some few persons, but mankind in general, are only to -be kept in order by _force and fear_.” So far as there is truth in -this observation, the civil sword, in every country, supplies that -needful restraint. But in the general commerce between man and man, -in all offices of civility and society, that is, in cases where the -stronger passions and more important interests of men are not directly -concerned, as they are in what relates to property and power, the -observation is clearly not true. Here, pride is the predominant vice of -mankind. And pride is naturally softened and disarmed by placability -and meekness. The good humour of the world is easily and most -effectually maintained by mutual concessions and reciprocal civilities: -for pride, having a mixture of generosity in it, yields to these, -and loses all the fierceness of its nature. So that they, who bring -this charge against the world, calumniate their kind, and either shew -that they have kept ill company; or, as I rather suspect, have never -tried the experiment, which they say is so hopeless. Let them learn to -think more favourably, that is, more justly, of human nature. We are -passionate, infirm creatures, indeed; but still men, and not fiends. -Let them set the example of that _humility_, which they affect to -think so unpromising a guard against injuries: and I dare assure them -they will generally find themselves better defended by it, than by any -resentment or high spirit which they can possibly exert. - -Lastly, I would observe, that, if in some rare instances, and -in places, especially, where fashion has made resentment highly -creditable, this practice be found inconvenient, the rule is not to -be set aside on that account. The authority of the legislator should -exact obedience to it; and the inconvenience will be amply compensated -by other considerations. We shall have the merit of testifying the -sincerity of our religion, by giving to God and man so eminent a proof -of it; and, in due time, we shall have our reward. - -To conclude: in this and all other cases, we shall do well to _learn of -Jesus, who was meek and lowly in heart_. His authority, his example, -his affectionate call upon us in the words of the text, are powerful -motives to the practice of this duty. And for the rest, we have seen, -that it leads directly to _peace and quiet_, in our intercourse with -each other; or, if the perverseness of man should sometimes disappoint -us in this expectation, that it will certainly and infallibly _yield -rest to our own souls_. - - - - -SERMON XXIV. - -PREACHED APRIL 30, 1769. - -LUKE xvi. 14. - -_And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all those things, and -they derided him._ - - -But what then were _those things_ which our Lord had said in the -hearing of the Pharisees, and for which they derided him? - -Had he been inveighing against the vice of covetousness in any -unreasonable manner? Had he carried the opposite virtue to an extreme, -as some moralists have done? Had he told the Pharisees that the -possession, and much more the enjoyment of riches, was, universally, -and under all circumstances, unlawful? Had he pressed it as a matter -of conscience upon them, to divest themselves of their wealth, and to -embrace an absolute and voluntary poverty? Had he even gone so far as -to advise these Pharisees, as he once did a rich man, to _sell what -they had and give it to the poor, and then take up the cross and follow -him_[155]? - -Alas, no. He had been saying none of _these things_. He did not think -well enough of the Pharisees to give this last counsel of exalted -charity to _them_; a counsel, which he had addressed to one whom he -loved, to one who was a virtuous man as well as rich, and who wanted -only this _one thing_, to make him perfect. - -And as for those other precepts, which would have implied, that riches -were unlawful in themselves, and the possession of them a crime, he was -too sober a moralist to address a lecture of this sort to any of his -hearers. - -The truth is, he had only been advising rich men to employ their -wealth in such a way as should turn to the best account, to _make -themselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness_; that is, such -friends, as should be able to repay them with interest, and, when these -houses of clay are overturned, should _receive them into everlasting -habitations_: and, to give this advice the greater weight with them, -he had concluded his discourse with saying, that such conduct was even -necessary, if they aspired to this reward, for that they _could not -serve God and mammon_; that is, they could not serve _God_ acceptably, -unless they withdrew their service from _mammon_ in all those cases, in -which the commands of two such different masters interfered with each -other. - -Such, and so reasonable was the doctrine which Jesus had been -delivering to the Pharisees. And how then could it provoke their -_derision_? - -The text answers this question—THEY WERE COVETOUS. Their life -was a contradiction to this doctrine, and therefore they found it -unreasonable, and even ridiculous. - -Nor let it be thought, that this illusion is peculiar to avarice. It is -familiar to vice of every kind, to scorn reproof; to make light of the -doctrine, which condemns it; and, when it cannot confute, to deride the -teacher. - -So that the text affords this general observation, “That, when the -heart is corrupted by any vice, it naturally breeds a disposition to -unreasonable mirth and ridicule.” - -And, because this levity of mind, in its turn, corrupts the heart still -further, it may be of use to open to you, more particularly, _the -sources of irreligious scorn_; to let you see from how base an origin -it springs; how it rises, indeed, on the subversion of every principle, -by which a virtuous man is governed, and by which there is hope that a -vicious man may be reclaimed. - -Now ye will easily apprehend how the sinner comes to cultivate in -himself this miserable talent, if ye reflect; _how much he is concerned -to avoid the_ EVIDENCE _of moral truth; how insensible he chuses to be -to the_ DIFFERENCES _of moral sentiment; how studiously he would keep -out of sight the_ CONSEQUENCES _of moral action_: And if ye consider, -withal, how well adapted _the way of ridicule_ is, to answer all these -purposes. - -I. FIRST, then, the sinner is much disposed to withhold his attention -from _the evidence of moral truth_; and the way of ridicule favours -this bad disposition. - -When a moral lesson is addressed to us, it is but a common piece of -respect we owe the teacher of it, and indeed ourselves, to see what the -ideas are of which the doctrine is made up; to consider whether there -be a proper coherence between those ideas; whether what is affirmed in -the proposition be consonant to truth and reason, or not. If upon this -enquiry we find that the affirmation is well founded, either from our -immediate perception of the dependency between the ideas themselves, -or from the evidence of some remoter principle, with which it is -duly connected, we admit it thenceforth as a truth, and are obliged, -if we would act in a reasonable manner, to pay it that regard which -may be due to its importance. This is the duty of a rational hearer -in the school of instruction: and this, the process of the mind, in -discharging that duty. But this work of the understanding, it is plain, -requires attention and seriousness; _attention_, to apprehend the -meaning of the proposition delivered to us, and _seriousness_, to judge -of its truth and moment. - -Indeed, if the result of our enquiry be, that the proposition is -unmeaning, or false, or frivolous, we of course reject it, and, -perhaps, with some contempt: but then this contempt is subsequent to -the inquiry, and would itself be ridiculous, if it went before it. - -It is apparent, then, what reason demands in the case. But the -precipitancy of the mind is such, that it often concludes before it -understands, and, what is worse, contemns what it has not examined. -This last folly is more especially chargeable on those who are under -the influence of some inveterate prejudice, or prevailing passion. -For, when the moral instruction pressed upon us, directly opposes a -principle we will not part with, or contradicts an inclination we -resolve to cherish, the very repugnancy of the doctrine to our notions -or humours creates disgust: and then, to spare ourselves the trouble of -inquiry, or to countenance the hasty persuasion that we have no need to -inquire at all, we very naturally express that disgust in contempt and -ridicule. - -I explain myself by the instance in the text, Jesus had said, _Ye -cannot serve God and mammon_. The Pharisees, who heard him say this, -had taken their resolution, _to serve mammon_; and they had, it -seems, a principle of their own, on which they presumed to satisfy -themselves, that they, likewise, _served God_. Now, this aphorism of -our Lord coming against these prejudices, they had not the patience to -consider what truth there was in the assertion; what it was _to serve -God_, and what it was _to serve mammon_; and what inconsistency there -was between these two services. This way of inquiry, which reason -prescribes, was too slow for these impatient spirits; and, besides, was -contrary to their fixed purpose of adhering, to their old principles -and practices. They therefore take a shorter method of setting aside -the obnoxious proposition. They conclude hastily, that their service -of mammon was, some how or other, made consistent with their service -of God, by virtue of their _long prayers_. And, for the rest, they -condescend not to reason upon the point at all: to get quit of this -trouble, or rather, to conceal from themselves, if possible, the -deformity of their practice, they slur an important lesson over with -an air of negligent raillery, and think it sufficient to _deride_ the -teacher of it. - -Ye see then how naturally it comes to pass that the way of ridicule is -taken up by the sinner, to avoid the trouble and confusion which must -needs arise from a serious attention to the evidence of moral truth. - -II. It serves equally in the next place, to sooth and flatter his -corruption, by keeping him insensible, as he would chuse to be, to _the -differences of moral sentiment_. - -The divine wisdom has so wonderfully contrived human nature, that -there needs little more in moral matters, than plainly and clearly to -represent any instruction to the mind, in order to procure its assent -to it. Whatever the instruction be, whether it affirm this conduct to -be virtuous, or that vicious, if the mind be in its natural state, -it more than sees, it feels, the truth or falshood of it. The appeal -lies directly to the heart, and to certain corresponding sentiments -of right and wrong, instantly and unavoidably excited by the moral -proposition[156]. - -It is true, the vivacity of these sentiments may be much weakened by -habits of vice; but they must grow into a great inveteracy indeed, -before they can altogether extinguish the natural perception. The -only way to prevent this sensibility from taking place in a mind, not -perfectly abandoned, is to keep the moral truth itself out of sight; -or, which comes to the same thing, to misrepresent it. For, being -then not taken for what it is, but for something else, it is the same -thing as if the truth itself had not been proposed to us. But now this -power of misrepresentation is that faculty in which ridicule excells. -Nothing is easier for it than to distort a reasonable proposition, or -to throw some false light of the fancy upon it. The soberest truth is -then travestied into an apparent falshood; and, instead of exciting -the moral sentiment which properly belongs to it, only serves, under -this disguise, to provoke the scorner’s mirth on a phantom of his own -raising. - -The instance in the text will again illustrate this observation. - -Had the Pharisees seen, that, _to serve God_ implies an universal -obedience to all his laws, and that, _to serve mammon_ implies an equal -submission to all the maxims of the world, and that these laws and -these maxims are, in numberless cases, directly contrary to each other, -they would then have seen our Lord’s observation in its true light; -and they could not have helped feeling the propriety of the conduct -recommended to them. But the sentiments arising out of this truth, -would have given no small disturbance to men, who were determined to -act in defiance of them. To avoid this inconvenience, they had only -to put a false gloss on the words of Jesus; to suppose, for instance, -that by serving God was meant, to _make long prayers_, and by serving -mammon, to make a _reasonable provision for their families_; and, -then, where was the inconsistency of two such services? In this way -of understanding the text, nothing is easier than _to serve God and -mammon_. And thus, by substituting a proposition of their own, in the -room of that which he had delivered, they escape from his reproof, and -even find means to divert themselves with it. - -III. But, lastly, a vicious man is not more concerned to obscure the -evidence of moral truth, and to suppress in himself the differences of -moral sentiment, than he is to keep out of sight _the consequences of -moral action_: and what so likely as ridicule to befriend him also in -this project. - -When the sinner looks forward into the effects of a vicious life, he -sees so much misery springing up before him, even in this world, and -so dreadful a recompence reserved for him in another, that the prospect -must needs be painful to him. He has his choice, indeed, whether to -stop, or proceed, in his evil course; but, if he resolve to proceed, -one cannot think it strange that he should strive to forget, both what -he is about, and whither he is going. And, if other expedients fail -him, he very naturally takes refuge in a forced intemperate pleasantry. -For the very effort to be witty occupies his attention, and gratifies -his vanity. A little crackling mirth, besides, diverts and entertains -him; and, though his case will not bear reasoning upon, yet a lively -jest shall pass upon others, and sometimes upon himself, for the -soundest reason. - -This is the true account of that disposition to ridicule, which the -world so commonly observes in bad men, and sometimes mistakes for -an argument of their tranquillity, when it is, in truth, an evident -symptom of their distress. For they would forget themselves, in this -noisy mirth; just as children laugh out, to keep up their spirits in -the dark. - -Let me alledge the case in the text once more, to exemplify this -remark. - -When our Lord reproved the Pharisees for their covetousness, and -admonished them how impossible it was _to serve God and mammon_, the -weight of this remonstrance should, in all reason, have engaged their -serious attention: and then they would have seen how criminal their -conduct was, in _devouring widows houses_, while yet they pretended a -zeal for _the house of God_; and being led by the principles of their -sect to admit a future existence, it was natural for them, under this -conviction, to expect the just vengeance of their crimes. - -But vice had made them ingenious, and taught them how to elude this -dreadful conclusion. They represented to themselves their reprover in a -ridiculous light; probably as one of those moralists, who know nothing -of the world, and outrage truth and reason in their censures of it: or, -they affected to see him in this light, in order to break the force of -his remonstrance, and insinuate to the by-standers, that it merited no -other confutation than that of neglect. They did, then, as vicious men -are wont to do; they resolved not to consider the consequences of their -own conduct; and supported themselves in this resolution by _deriding_ -the person, who, in charity, would have led them to their duty. - -Thus it appears how naturally the way of ridicule is employed by those -who determine not to comply with the rules of reason and religion. They -are solicitous to keep _the evidence of moral truth_ from pressing too -closely upon them: they would confound and obliterate, if they could, -_the differences of moral sentiment_: they would overlook, if possible, -the _consequences of moral action_: and nothing promises so fair to -set them at ease, in these three respects, as to cultivate that turn -of mind, which obscures truth, hardens the heart, and stupifies the -understanding. For such is the proper effect of dissolute mirth; the -mortal foe to reason, virtue, and to common prudence. - -I have shewn you this very clearly in the case of one vice, the vice of -avarice, as exemplified by the Pharisees in the text. But, as I said, -every other vice is equally disingenuous, and for the same reason. Tell -the ambitious man, in the language of Solomon, that _by humility and -the fear of the Lord, cometh honour_[157]; and he will loudly deride -his instructor: or, tell the voluptuous man, in the language of St. -Paul, _that he, who liveth in pleasure, is dead while he liveth_[158]; -and you may certainly expect the same treatment. - -It is not, that vague and general invectives against vice will always -be thus received: but let the reproof, as that in the text, be pressing -and poignant, let it _come home to men’s bosoms_, and penetrate, by -its force and truth, the inmost foldings and recesses of conscience, -and see if the man, who is touched by your reproof, and yet will not -be reclaimed by it; see, I say, if he be not carried, by a sort of -instinct, to repel your charitable pains with scorn and mockery. Had -Jesus instructed the Pharisees _to pray and fast often_; or had he -exhorted them, in general terms, to keep the law and to serve God; they -had probably given him the hearing with much apparent composure: but -when he spoke against _serving mammon_, whom they idolized: and still -more, when he told these hypocritical worldlings, that their service of -mammon did not, and could not consist with God’s service, to which they -so much pretended; then it was that they betook themselves to their -arms: they _heared these things_, and because _they were covetous_, -they _derided_ their teacher. - -If this be a just picture of human nature, it may let us see how poor -a talent that of ridicule is, both in its origin, and application. -For, when employed in moral and religious matters, we may certainly -pronounce of it, That it springs from vice, and means nothing else but -the support of it. Should not the scorner himself, then, reflect of -what every other man sees, “That his mirth implies guilt, and that he -only laughs, because he dares not be serious?” - -But Solomon[159] has long since read the destiny of him, who would -reprove men of this character. It will be to better purpose, therefore, -to warn the young and unexperienced against the contagion of vicious -scorn; by which many have been corrupted, on whom vice itself, in its -own proper form, would have made no impression. For the modesty of -virtue too easily concludes, that what is much ridiculed must, itself, -be ridiculous: and, when this conclusion is taken up, reflexion many -times comes too late to correct the mischiefs of it. Let those, then, -who have not yet seated themselves _in the chair of the scorner_, -consider, that ridicule is but the last effort of baffled vice to keep -itself in countenance; that it betrays a corrupt turn of mind, and -only serves to promote that corruption. Let them understand, that this -faculty is no argument of superior sense, rarely of superior wit; and -that it proves nothing but the profligacy, or the folly of him, who -affects to be distinguished by it. Let them, in a word, reflect, that -virtue and reason love to be, and can afford to be, serious: but that -vice and folly are undone, if they let go their favourite habit of -scorn and derision. - - - - -SERMON XXV. - -PREACHED JUNE 25, 1775. - -ECCLESIASTES v. 10. - -_He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver._ - - -If a preacher on these words should set himself to declaim against -silver, he would probably be but ill-heared, and would certainly go -beside the meaning of his text. - -SILVER (or gold) is only an instrument of exchange; a sign of the -price which things bear in the commerce of life. This instrument is -of the most necessary use in society. Without it, there would be no -convenience of living, no supply of our mutual wants, no industry, no -civility, I had almost said, no virtue among men. - -The author of the text was clearly of this mind; since, on many -occasions, he makes wealth the reward of wisdom, and poverty, of folly; -and since he laboured all his life, and with suitable success, to -multiply gold and silver in his dominions, beyond the example of all -former, and indeed succeeding, kings of the Jewish state. - -The precious metals, then, (both for the reason of the thing, and the -authority of Solomon) shall preserve their lustre unsullied, and their -honours unimpaired by me. Poets and satirists have, indeed, execrated -those, who tore the entrails of the earth for them; and, provoked by -the general abuse of them, have seemed willing that they should be sent -back to their beds again. But sober moralists hold no such language; -and are content that they remain above ground, and shine out in the -face of the sun. - -Still (for I come now to the true meaning of my text) good and useful -things may be OVER-RATED, or MISAPPLIED; and, in either way, may -become hurtful to us. _He, that_, in the emphatic language of the -preacher, LOVETH _silver_, certainly offends in one of these ways, and -probably in both: and, when he does so, it will be easy to make good -the royal denunciation—that _he shall not be_ SATISFIED _with it_. - -1. Now, wealth is surely over-rated, when, instead of regarding it -only as the means of procuring a reasonable enjoyment of our lives, we -dote upon it for its own sake, and make it the end, or chief object of -our pursuits: when we sacrifice, not only ease and leisure, (which, -though valuable things, are often well recompensed by the pleasures -of industry and activity), but health and life to it: when we _grieve -nature_[160], to gratify this fantastic passion; and give up the social -pleasures, the true pleasures of humanity, for the sordid satisfaction -of seeing ourselves possessed of an abundance, which we never mean -to enjoy: above all, when we purchase wealth at the expence of our -innocence; when we prefer it to a good name, and a clear conscience; -when we suffer it to interfere with our most important concerns, those -of piety and religion; and when, for the sake of it, we are contented -to forego the noblest hopes, the support and glory of our nature, the -hopes of happiness in a future state. - -When the false glitter of _silver_ (_of which the owner_, as Solomon -says, _has_, and proposes to himself, _no other good, but that of -beholding it with his eyes_[161]) imposes upon us at this rate, how -should our reasonable nature find any true or solid _satisfaction_ in -it! - -“But the mere act of acquiring and accumulating wealth is, it will be -said, the miser’s pleasure, of which himself, and no other, is the -proper judge; and a certain confused notion of the uses, to which -it may serve, though he never actually puts it to any, is enough to -justify his pursuit of it.” - -Be it so, then: But is there no better pleasure for him to aim at, -and which he loses by following this; and although _a man’s ways_, -we are told, _be right in his own eyes_[162]; yet, is there no -difference in them, and do not some of them lead through much trouble -to disappointment and _death_? And is there not a presumption, a -certainty, that the way of the _miser_ is of this sort? when his -very name may admonish him of the light in which the common sense of -mankind regards his pursuit of untasted opulence; and when he finds, by -experience, that his unnatural appetite for it is always encreasing, be -the plenty never so great which is set before him. But, - -2. Wealth may be MISAPPLIED, as well as over-rated, and generally is -so, in the most offensive manner, by those, who think there are no -pleasures, which it cannot command. For, although the miser has the -worse name in the world, yet the spendthrift (since a certain alliance, -which has taken place between luxury and avarice) possibly deserves our -indignation more. - -But ye shall judge for yourselves. Are not riches, let me ask, sadly -misapplied, when, after having been pursued and seized upon, with -more than a miser’s fury, they are suddenly let go again, on all the -wings[163] of prodigality and folly? which scatter their precious load, -not on modest merit, or virtuous industry, or suffering innocence, -but on the flatterers of pride, the retainers of pomp, the panders of -pleasure; in a word, on those miscreants, who imped these harpies, and -sent them forth, for the annoyance of mankind. - -And well are these spendthrifts repaid for their good service. -For this profusion brings on more pains and penalties, than I am -able to express; disappointment, regret, disgust, and infamy; and -not uncommonly, in the train of these, that tremendous spectre to -a voluptuous man, _Poverty_: or, if the source, which feeds this -whirlpool of riotous expence, be yet unexhausted, and flow copiously, -these waters have that baleful quality, that they inflame, instead -of quenching, the drinker’s thirst. All his natural appetites grow -nice and delicate; and ten thousand artificial ones are created, and -become more vexatious to him, than any that are of nature’s growth. -The idolater of riches, the infatuated lover of _silver_, now finds, -that the power he serves, the mistress he adores, yields him no other -fruit of all his assiduity, but self-abhorrence and distraction; the -loss of all virtuous feelings; and numberless clamorous desires, which -give him no truce of their importunity, and are incapable, by any -gratification, of being quieted and assuaged. - -So true is the observation, that _he, who, loveth silver, shall not be -satisfied with silver_! For, either the passion grows upon us, when the -object is not enjoyed; or, if it be, a new force is given to it, and a -legion of other passions, as impatient and unmanageable as the original -one, start up out of the enjoyment itself. - -I know the lovers of money are not easily made sensible of this fatal -alternative. They think, that this, or that sum, will fill[164] all -their wishes, and make them as rich, and as happy, as they desire to -be. But they presently feel their mistake; and yet rarely find out, -that the way to content lies through self-command, and that to have -enough of any thing which this world affords, we must be careful not to -grasp at too much of it. - -On the entrance into life, higher and more generous motives usually -excite the better part of mankind to labour in those professions, that -are accounted liberal. But, as they proceed in their course, interest, -which was always one spur to their industry, infixes itself deeply -into their minds, and stimulates them more sensibly than any other. -It can scarce be otherwise, considering the influence of example; the -experience they have, or think they have, of the advantages, that -attend encreasing wealth; the fashion of the times, which indulges, -or, as we easily persuade ourselves, requires refined, and therefore -expensive, pleasures; and, above all, the selfishness of the human -mind, which is, and, for wise reasons, was intended to be a powerful -spring of action in us. - -Thus there are several adventitious, shall we call them? or natural -inclinations, which prompt us to the pursuit of riches; and I would not -be so rigid, as to insist on the total suppression of them. - -Let then the fortune, or the honour (for both are included in the -magical word _silver_) which eminent worth may propose to itself, -be among the inducements which erect the hopes, and quicken the -application, of a virtuous man. But let him know withal (and I am in -no pain for the effect, which this premature knowledge may have upon -him) that the application, and not the object, is that in which he -will find his account; just as the pursuit, and not the game, is the -true reward of the chace. He who thinks otherwise, and reckons that -affluence is content, or grandeur, happiness, will have leisure, if he -attain to either, to rectify his opinion, and to see that he had made a -very false estimate of human life. - -And, now, having thus far commented on my text, I will take leave, for -once, to step beyond it, and shew you, in few words (for many cannot be -necessary on so plain a subject) _where_ and _how_ satisfaction may be -found. - -In the abundance of _silver_, it does not, and cannot lie; nor yet in a -cynical contempt of it: but, in few and moderate desires; in a correct -taste of life, which consults nature more than fancy in the choice -of its pleasures; in rejecting imaginary wants, and keeping a strict -hand on those that are real; in a sober use of what we possess, and no -further concern about more than what may engage us, by honest means, -to acquire it; in considering who, and what we are[165]; that we are -creatures of a day, to whom long desires and immeasurable projects -are very ill suited; that we are reasonable creatures, who should make -a wide difference between what seems to be, and what is important; -that we are accountable creatures, and should be more concerned to -make a right use of what we possess, than to enlarge our possessions; -that, above all, we are Christians, who are expected to sit loose to a -transitory world, to extend our hopes to another life, and to qualify -ourselves for it. - -In this way, and with these reflections, we shall see things in a true -light, and shall either not desire abundant wealth, or shall understand -its true value. The strictest morality, and even our divine religion, -lays no obligation upon us to profess poverty. We are even required -to be industrious in our several callings and stations, and are, of -course, allowed to reap the fruits, whatever they be, of an honest -industry. Yet it deserves our consideration, that wealth is always a -snare, and therefore too often a curse; that, if virtuously obtained, -it affords but a moderate satisfaction at best; and that, if we WILL -be rich, that is, resolve by any means, and at all events, to be so, -we _pierce ourselves through with many sorrows_[166]; that it even -requires more virtue to manage, as we ought, a great estate, than to -acquire it, in the most reputable manner; that affluent, and, still -more, enormous wealth secularizes the heart of a Christian too much, -indisposes him for the offices of piety, and too often (though it may -seem strange) for those of humanity; that it inspires a sufficiency and -self-dependance, which was not designed for mortal man; an impatience -of complying with the rules of reason, and the commands of religion; -a forgetfulness of our highest duties, or an extreme reluctance to -observe them. - -In a word, when we have computed all the advantages, which a flowing -prosperity brings with it, it will be our wisdom to remember, that its -disadvantages are also great[167]; greater than surely we are aware of, -if it be true, as our Lord himself assures us it is; _that a rich man -shall hardly enter into the kingdom of Heaven_[168]. - -Yet, _with God_ (our gracious Master adds) _all things are possible_. I -return, therefore, to the doctrine with which I set out, and conclude; -that riches are not evil in themselves; that the moderate desire of -them is not unlawful; that a right use of them is even meritorious. -But then you will reflect on what the nature of things, as well as -the voice of Solomon, loudly declares, that _he who loveth silver, -shall not be satisfied with silver_; that the capacity of the human -mind is not filled with it; that, if we pursue it with ardour, and -make it the sole or the chief object of our pursuit, it never did, and -never can yield a true and permanent satisfaction; that, if _riches -encrease_, it is our interest, as well as duty, _not to set our hearts -upon them_[169]; and that, finally, we are so to employ the riches, we -any of us have, with temperance and sobriety, with mercy and charity, -as to _make ourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness_ (of -the mammon, which usually deserves to be so called) that, _when we -fail_ (when our lives come, as they soon will do, to an end) _they may -receive us into everlasting habitations_[170]. - - - - -SERMON XXVI. - -PREACHED FEBRUARY 21, 1773. - -1 COR. vi. 20. - -_Therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are -God’s._ - - -The words, as the expression shews, are an inference from the preceding -part of the Apostle’s discourse. The occasion was this. He had been -reasoning, towards the close of this chapter, against fornication, -or the vice of impurity; to which the Gentiles, in their unbelieving -state, had been notoriously addicted; and for which the Corinthians (to -whom he writes) were, even among the Gentiles themselves, branded to a -proverb. - -The topics, he chiefly insists upon, are taken, not from nature, but -the principles of our holy religion, from the right and property, which -God hath in Christians. By virtue of their profession, their bodies and -souls are appropriated to him. THEREFORE, says he, _glorify God in your -body, and in your spirit, which are God’s_. - -To apprehend all the force of this conclusion, it will be proper to -look back to the arguments themselves; to consider distinctly the -substance of them, and the manner in which they are conducted. - -This double attention will give us cause to admire, not the logick -only, but the address, of the learned Apostle. I say, the _address_; -which the occasion required: for, notwithstanding that no sin is more -opposite to our holy religion, and that therefore St. Paul, in his -epistles to the Gentile converts, gives it no quarter, yet, as became -the wisdom and sanctity of his character, he forgets not of what, and -to whom, he writes. - -The vice itself is of no easy reprehension: not, for want of arguments -against it, which are innumerable and irresistible; but from the -reverence which is due to one’s self and others. An Apostle, -especially, was to respect his own dignity. He was, besides, neither -to offend the innocent, nor the guilty. Unhappily, these last, who -needed his plainest reproof, had more than the delicacy of innocence -about them, and were, of all men, the readiest to take offence. For so -it is, the licentious of all times have seared consciences, and tender -apprehensions. It alarms them to hear what they have no scruple to -commit. - -The persons addressed were, especially, to be considered. These -were Corinthians: that is, a rich commercial people, voluptuous and -dissolute. They were, besides, wits and reasoners, rhetoricians and -philosophers: for under these characters they are represented to us. -And all these characters required the Apostle’s attention. As a people -addicted to pleasure, and supported in the habits of it by abounding -wealth, they were to be awakened out of their lethargy, by an earnest -and vehement expostulation: as pretending to be expert in the arts -of reasoning, they were to be convinced by strict argument: and, as -men of quick rhetorical fancies, a reasoner would find his account in -presenting his argument to them through some apt and lively image. - -Let us see, then, how the Apostle acquits himself in these nice -circumstances. - -After observing that the sin he had warned the Corinthians to avoid, -was _a sin against their own body_; that is, was an abuse and -defilement of it, he proceeds, “_What! know ye not that your body is -the temple of the Holy Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of God? -And ye are not your own; for ye are bought with a price; therefore, -glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s._” - -The address, we see, is poignant; the reasoning, close; and the -expression, oratorical. The vehemence of his manner could not but take -their attention: his argumentation, as being founded on Christian -principles and ideas, must be conclusive to the persons addressed; -and, as conveyed in remote and decent figures, the delicacy of their -imaginations is respected by it. - -The whole deserves to be opened and explained at large. Such an -explanation, will be the best discourse I can frame on this subject. - -I. First, then, the Apostle asks, _What! know ye not that your body -is the temple of the Holy Ghost?_—This question refers to that great -Christian principle, that we live _in the communion of the Holy -Ghost_[171]; not, in the sense in which we _all live and move and have -our being in God_; but in a special and more exalted sense; the Gospel -teaching, that _God hath given to us Christians the Holy Spirit_[172], -to be with us, and in us; to purify and comfort us: that we are -_baptized by this spirit_[173], sanctified, _sealed by it to the day of -redemption_[174]. - -Now this being the case, the _body_ of a Christian, which the Holy -Ghost inhabits and sanctifies by his presence, is no longer to be -considered as a worthless fabrick, to be put to sordid uses, but as the -receptacle of God’s spirit, as the place of his residence; in a word, -as his TEMPLE and sanctuary. - -The figure, you see, presents an idea the most august and venerable. -It carried this impression with it both to the Gentile and Jewish -Christians. It did so to the Gentiles, whose superstitious reverence -for their idol-temples is well known: and though many an abominable -rite was done in them, yet the nature of the Deity, occupying this -temple, which was the Holy Ghost, put an infinite difference between -him and their impure deities, the impurest of which had engrossed the -Corinthian worship. So that this contrast of the object could not but -raise their ideas, and impress the reverence, which the Apostle would -excite in them for such a temple, with full effect on their minds[175]. -And then to Jews, the allusion must be singularly striking: for their -supreme pride and boast was, the temple at Jerusalem, _the tabernacle -of the most high, dwelling between the cherubims, and the place of the -habitation of God’s glory_[176]. - -To both Jew and Gentile, the notion of a temple implied these two -things, 1. That the divinity was in a more especial manner present in -it: and, 2. That it was a place peculiarly set apart for his service. -Whence the effect of this representation would be, That the body, -having the Holy Spirit lodged within it, was to be kept pure and clean -for this cælestial inhabitant: and, as being dedicated to his own use, -it was not to be prophaned by any indecencies, much less by a gross -sin, which is, emphatically, _a sin against the body_, and by heathens -themselves accounted a _pollution_[177] of it. - -Further; the Apostle does not leave the Corinthians to collect all this -from the image presented to them, but asserts it expressly; _What! know -ye not, that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost_, WHICH IS IN -YOU: Implying, that what they would naturally infer from their idea of -a temple, was true, in fact, _that the Holy Ghost was in them_; that -his actual occupancy and possession of their bodies appropriated the -use of them to himself, and excluded all sordid practices in them, as -prophane and SACRILEGIOUS. Nay, he further adds; AND WHICH [Holy Ghost] -YE HAVE OF GOD: ye have received this adorable spirit, _which is in -you_, from God himself; and so are obliged to entertain this heavenly -guest with all sanctity and reverence; not only for his own sake, and -for the honour he does you in dwelling in you, but for his sake who -sent him, and from whose hands ye have received him. - -This first argument, then, against the sin of uncleanness, divested of -its figure, stands thus. In consequence of your Christian profession, -ye must acknowledge, that the Holy Spirit is given to inform and -consecrate your mortal bodies; that he is actually _within_ you; and -that he dwells and operates there, by the gracious appointment and -commission of God. Ye are therefore to consider your body as the place -of his more especial habitation; and as such, are bound to preserve it -in such purity, as the nature of so sacred a presence demands. - -This is the clear, obvious, and conclusive argument; liable to no -objection, or even cavil, from a professor of Christianity. The figure -of a temple is only employed to raise our apprehensions, and to convey -the conclusion with more force and energy to our minds. But now, - -II. The Apostle proceeds to another and distinct consideration, and -shews that the Holy Ghost is not only the actual _occupier and -possessor_ of the body of Christians, whom the Almighty had, as it -were, forced upon them, and by his sovereign authority enjoined them to -receive, but that he was the true and rightful PROPRIETOR of it. YE ARE -NOT YOUR OWN, continues the Apostle; not merely, as “God hath, by his -spirit, taken possession of you, and sealed you up, as his own proper -goods[178];” but as he hath redeemed and purchased you, as he hath done -that, by which the _property_ ye might before seem to have in your -bodies, is actually made over and consigned to him. FOR YE ARE BOUGHT -WITH A PRICE. - -The expression is, again, figurative; and refers to the notions and -usages that obtained among the heathens, the Greeks especially, in -regard to _personal slavery_. As passionate admirers, as they were, -of liberty, every government, even the most republican, abounded in -slaves; every family had its share of them. The purchase of them, as -of brute beasts, was a considerable part of their traffick. Men and -women were bought and sold publicly in their markets: the wealth of -states and of individuals, in great measure, consisted in them. Thus -was human nature degraded by the Heathen, and I wish it might be said, -by heathens only. But my present concern is with them. It is too sad -a truth that human creatures sold themselves, or were sold by their -masters, to be employed in the basest services, even those of luxury -and of lust. This infamous practice was common through all Greece, but -was more especially a chief branch of the Corinthian commerce. Their -city was the head-quarters of prostitution, and the great market for -the supply of it. - -Now to this practice the Apostle alludes, but in such a manner as -implies the severest reproof of it. His remonstrance is to this -effect. “Ye Corinthians, in your former pagan state, made no scruple -to consider your slaves as your own absolute property. Your pretence -was, that _ye had bought them with a price_; that is, with a piece of -money, which could be no equivalent for the natural inestimable liberty -and dignity of a fellow-creature; yet ye claimed to yourselves their -entire, unreserved service; and often condemned them to the vilest and -most ignominious. - -“To turn now, says the Apostle, from these horrors to a fairer scene; -for I take advantage only of your ideas in this matter, to lead you -to just notions of your present Christian condition. God, the sole -rightful proprietor of the persons of men, left you in the state of -nature, to the enjoyment of your own liberty, with no other restraint -upon it than what was necessary to preserve so great a blessing, the -restraint of reason. Now, indeed, but still for your own infinite -benefit, he claims a stricter property in you, and demands your more -peculiar service. He first made you men, but now Christians. Still he -condescends to proceed with you in your own way, and according to your -own ideas of right and justice. _He has bought you with a price_: but, -merciful heaven, with _what_ price? With that, which exceeds all value -and estimation, with the BLOOD of his only begotten Son; the least drop -of which is of more virtue than all your hecatombs, and more precious -than the treasures of the East. And for what was this price paid? Not -to enslave, much less to insult and corrupt you (as ye wickedly served -one another), but to _redeem you into the glorious liberty of the sons -of God_: It was, to restore you from death to life, from servitude to -freedom, from corruption to holiness, _to make to himself a peculiar -people, zealous of good works_. Say, then, Is this ransom an equivalent -for the purchase of you? And is the end for which ye are purchased, -such as ye dare complain of, or have reason to refuse? Henceforth, -then, _ye are not your own_: the property of your souls and bodies is -freely, justly, equitably, with immense benefit to yourselves, and -unspeakable mercy on the part of the purchaser, transferred to God. -Your whole and best service is due to him, of strict right: what he -demands of you is to serve him in all virtue and godliness of living, -and particularly to respect and reverence yourselves; in a word, not to -pollute yourselves with forbidden lusts. In this way ye are required -to serve your new lord and master, who has the goodness to regard such -service, as an honour and glory to himself. _Therefore_, do your part -inviolably and conscientiously, _Glorify God in your body, and in your -spirit, which are God’s_.” - -This is the the Apostle’s idea, when drawn out and explained at large. -The reasoning is decisive, as in the former case: and the expression -admirably adapted to the circumstances of the persons addressed. In -plain words, the argument is this. God has provided, by the sacrifice -of the death of Christ, for your redemption from all iniquity, both -the service, and the wages of it. By your profession of Christianity, -and free acceptance of this inestimable benefit, freely offered to -you, ye are become in a more especial manner, his servants: ye are -bound, therefore, by every motive of duty and self-interest to preserve -yourselves in all that purity of mind and body, which his laws require -of you; and for the sake of which ye were taken into this nearer -relation to himself. The figure of being _bought with a price_, was -at once the most natural cover of this reasoning, as addressed to the -Corinthian Christians; and the most poignant reproof of their country’s -inhuman practice of trafficking in the bodies and souls of men. - -The force both of the _figure_ and the _reasoning_ is apparently much -weakened by this minute comment upon the Apostle’s words, which yet -seemed necessary to make them understood. - -To draw to a point, then, the substance of what has been said, and to -conclude. - -The vice which the Apostle had been arguing against, is condemned -by natural reason. But Christians are bound by additional and -peculiar considerations to abstain from it. YE, says the Apostle, ARE -THE TEMPLES OF THE HOLY GHOST. To defile yourselves with the sins -of uncleanness is, then, to desecrate those bodies which the Holy -Ghost sanctifies by his presence. It is, in the emphatic language -of scripture, _to grieve the holy Spirit_, and _to do despite to -the spirit of grace_. It is like, nay it is infinitely worse, than -polluting the sanctuary: an abomination, which nature itself teaches -all men to avoid and execrate. It is, in the highest sense of the -words, PROPHANENESS, IMPIETY, SACRILEGE. - -Again; YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE: ye are not your own, but God’s; -having been ransomed by him, your souls and bodies, when both were -lost, through the death of his Son: a price, of so immense, so -inestimable a value, that worlds are not equal to it. To dispose of -yourselves, then, in a way which he forbids and abhors: to corrupt -by your impurities that which belongs to God, which is his right and -property; to serve your lusts, when ye are redeemed at such a price to -serve God only, through Jesus Christ; is an outrage which we poorly -express, when language affords no other names for it, than those of -INGRATITUDE, INFIDELITY, INJUSTICE. - -Whatever excuses a poor heathen might alledge to palliate this sin, we -Christians have none to offer. He, _who knew not God_, might be led -by his pride, by his passions, and even by his religion, to conclude -(as the idolatrous Corinthians seem to have done) that _his own body -was for fornication_; or, at most, that he was only accountable to -_his own soul_ (if his philosophy would give him leave to think he had -one) for the misuse of it. But this language is now out of date. The -souls and bodies of us Christians are not ours, but the _Lord’s_: they -are _occupied_ by his spirit, and _appropriated_ to his service. The -conclusion follows, and cannot be inforced in stronger terms than those -of the text: THEREFORE GLORIFY GOD IN YOUR BODY, AND IN YOUR SPIRIT, -WHICH ARE GOD’S. - - - - -SERMON XXVII. - -PREACHED MARCH 13, 1774. - -JOB xxiii. 26. - - _Thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess - the iniquities of my youth._ - - -This is one of the complaints which Job makes in his expostulations -with the Almighty. He thought it hard measure that he should suffer, -now in his riper years, for the iniquities of his youth. He could -charge himself with no other; and therefore he hoped that these had -been forgotten. - -Job is all along represented as an eminently virtuous person; so -that the iniquities of his youth might not have been numerous or -considerable: otherwise, he would not have thought it strange, that he -was _made to possess_ his sins, long after they had been committed. Our -experience is, in this respect, so constant and uniform, that there -is no room for surprize or expostulation. All those who have passed -their youth in sin and folly, may with reason express a very strong -resentment against themselves; but have no ground of complaint against -God, when they cry out, in the anguish of their souls: _Thou writest -bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my -youth_. - -The words are peculiarly strong and energetic; and may be considered -distinctly from the case of Job, as expressing this general -proposition; “That, in the order of things, an ill-spent youth derives -many lasting evils on the subsequent periods of life.” An alarming -truth! which cannot be too much considered, and should especially be -set before the young and unexperienced, in the strongest light. - -The sins of _youth_, as distinguished from those of riper years, are -chiefly such as are occasioned by an immoderate, or an irregular -pursuit of pleasure; into which we are too easily carried in that -careless part of life; and the ill effects of which are rarely -apprehended by us, till they are severely felt. - -Now, it may be said of us, that we are made to POSSESS these sins, -“When _we continue under the constant sense and unrepented guilt of -them_:” “When _we labour under tyrannous habits, which they have -produced_:” And, “when _we groan under afflictions of various kinds, -which they have entailed upon us_.” - -In these three respects, I mean to shew how _bitter those things are, -which God writeth_, that is, decreeth in his justice, _against the -iniquities of our youth_. - -I. The _first_, and bitterest effect of this indulgence in vicious -pleasure, is the guilt and consequent remorse of conscience, we derive -from it. - -When the young mind has been tinctured in any degree with the -principles of modesty and virtue, it is with reluctance and much -apprehension, that it first ventures on the transgression of known -duty. But the vivacity and thoughtless gaiety of that early season, -encouraged by the hopes of new pleasure, and sollicited, as it -commonly happens, by ill examples, is at length tempted to make the -fatal experiment; by which guilt is contracted, and the sting of guilt -first known. The ingenuous mind reflects with shame and compunction -on this miscarriage but the passion revives; the temptation returns, -and prevails a second time, and a third; still with growing guilt, -but unhappily with something less horror; yet enough to admonish the -offender of his fault, and to embitter his enjoyments. - -As no instant mischief, perhaps, is felt from this indulgence, but -the pain of remorse, he, by degrees, imputes this effect to an -over-timorous apprehension, to his too delicate self-esteem, or to the -prejudice of education. He next confirms himself in these sentiments, -by observing the practice of the world, by listening to the libertine -talk of his companions, and by forming, perhaps, a sort of system to -himself, by which he pretends to vindicate his own conduct: till, at -length, his shame and his fears subside; he grows intrepid in vice, and -riots in all the intemperance to which youth invites, and high spirits -transport him. - -In this delirious state he continues for some time. But presently the -scene changes. Although the habit continue, the enjoyment is not the -same: the keenness of appetite abates, and the cares of life succeed to -this run of pleasure. - -But neither the cares nor the pleasures of life can now keep him from -reflexion. He cannot help giving way, at times, to a serious turn of -thought; and some unwelcome event or other will strike in to promote -it. Either the loss of a friend makes him grave; or a fit of illness -sinks his spirits; or it may be sufficient, that the companions of his -idle hours are withdrawn, and that he is left to himself in longer -intervals than he would chuse, of solitude and recollection. - -By some or other of these means CONSCIENCE revives in him, and with a -quick resentment of the outrage she has suffered. Attempts to suppress -her indignant reproaches, are no longer effectual: she _will_ be -heared; and her voice carries terror and consternation with it. - -“She upbraids him, first, with his loss of virtue, and of that which -died with it, her own favour and approbation. She then sets before him -the indignity of having renounced all self-command, and of having -served ingloriously under every idle, every sordid appetite. She next -rises in her remonstrance; represents to him the baseness of having -attempted unsuspecting innocence; the cruelty of having alarmed, -perhaps destroyed, the honour of deserving families; the fraud, the -perfidy, the perjury, he has possibly committed in carrying on his -iniquitous purposes. The mischiefs he has done to others are perhaps -not to be repaired; and his own personal crimes remain to be accounted -for; and, if at all, can only be expiated by the bitterest repentance. -And what then, concludes this severe monitor in the awful words of the -Apostle, _What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now -ashamed? for the end of those things is death_[179].” - -Suppose now this remonstrance to take effect, and that the sinner -is at length (for what I have here represented in few words, takes -much time in doing; but suppose, I say, that the sinner is at length) -wrought upon by this remonstrance to entertain some serious thoughts -of amendment, still the consciousness of his ill desert will attend -him through every stage of life, and corrupt the sincerity of all his -enjoyments; while he knows not what will be the issue of his crimes, or -whether, indeed, he shall ever be able truly and effectually to repent -of them. For we cannot get quit of our sins, the moment we resolve to -do so: But, as I proposed to shew, - -II. _In the second place_, we are still made to possess the iniquities -of our youth, _while we labour under any remains of those tyrannous -habits, which they have produced in us_. - -There is scarce an object of greater compassion, than the man who -is duly sensible of his past misconduct, earnestly repents of it, -and strives to reform it, but yet is continually drawn back into his -former miscarriages, by the very habit of having so frequently fallen -into them. Such a man’s life is a perpetual scene of contradiction; -a discordant mixture of good resolutions, and weak performances; of -virtuous purposes, and shameful relapses; in a word, of sin and sorrow. -And, were he only to consult his present ease, an uninterrupted course -of vice might almost seem preferable to this intermitting state of -virtue. But the misery of this condition comes from himself, and must -be endured, for the sake of avoiding, if it may be, one that is much -worse. In the mean time, he feels most sensibly what it is to _possess_ -the iniquities of his youth. The temptation, perhaps, to persevere in -them, is not great; he condemns, and laments his own weakness. Still -the habit prevails, and his repentance, though constantly renewed, is -unable to disengage him from the power of it. - -Thus he struggles with himself, perhaps for many years, perhaps for a -great part of his life; and in all that time is distracted by the very -inconsistency of his own conduct, and tortured by the bitterest pains -of compunction and self-abhorrence. - -But let it be supposed, that the grace of God at length prevails -over the tyranny of his inveterate habits; that his repentance is -efficacious, and his virtue established. Yet the memory of his former -weakness fills him with fears and apprehensions: he finds his mind -weakened, as well as polluted, by his past sins; he has to strive -against the returning influence of them; and thus, when penitence and -tears have washed away his guilt, he still thinks himself insecure, and -trembles at the possible danger of being involved again in it. - -Add to all this, the compunction which such a man feels, when he is -obliged to discountenance in others, perhaps, by his station, to punish -those crimes in which he had so long and so freely indulged himself: -and how uneasy the very discharge of his duty is thus rendered to him. - -To say all upon this head: his acquired habits, if not corrected in due -time, may push him into crimes the most atrocious and shocking; and, -if subdued at length, will agitate his mind with long dissatisfaction -and disquiet. Repentance, if it comes at all, will come late; and will -never reinstate him fully in the serenity and composure of his lost -innocence. But, - -III. Lastly, when all this is done (and more to do is not in our power) -we may still possess the iniquities of our youth, in another sense, -I mean, _when we groan under the temporal afflictions of many kinds, -which they entail upon us_. - -So close do these sad _possessions_ cleave to us, and so difficult it -is, contrary to what we observe of all other possessions, to divest -ourselves of them! - -When PLEASURE first spreads its share for the young voluptuary, how -little did he suspect the malignity of its nature; and that under so -enchanting an appearance, it was preparing for him pains and diseases, -declining health, an early old-age, perhaps poverty, infamy, and -irreparable ruin? Yet some, or all of these calamities may oppress him, -when the pleasure is renounced, and the sin forsaken. - -Youth and health are with difficulty made to comprehend how frail a -machine the human body is, and how easily impaired by excesses. But -effects will follow their causes; and intemperate pleasure is sure -to be succeeded by long pains, for which there is no prevention, and -for the most part, no remedy. Hence it is that life is shortened; -and, while it lasts, is full of languor, disease, and suffering. If -by living _fast_, as men call it, they only abridged the duration of -their pleasures, their folly might seem tolerable. But the case is -much worse: they treasure up to themselves actual sufferings, from -disorders which have no cure, as well as no name. And not unfrequently -it happens, according to the strong expression in the book of Job, that -_a man’s bones are full of the sin of his youth, till they lie down -with him in the grave_[180]. - -Or, if health continue, his _fortune_ suffers; it being an observation -as old as Solomon, and confirmed by constant experience ever since, -that _he who loveth pleasure, shall not be rich_[181]. His paternal -inheritance is perhaps wasted, or much reduced. And his careless youth -has lost the opportunity of those improvements which should enable -him to repair it. Or, if the abundant provision of wiser ancestors -secure him from this mischance; or, if he has had the discretion to -mix some industry and œconomy with his vices, still his good name -is blasted, and so tender a plant as this is not easily restored to -health and vigour. For it is a mistake to think that intemperance -leaves no lasting disgrace behind it. The contrary is seen every -day; and the crimes which we commit in the mad pursuit of pleasure, -bring a dishonour with them, which no age can wholly outlive, and no -virtue can repair[182]. It stuck close to Cæsar himself in his highest -fortune: All his laurels could neither hide his _baldness_ from the -observation of men, nor the infamy of that commerce by which it had -been occasioned[183]. - -All this, it may be thought, is very hard. But such is the fact, and -such the order of God’s providence. We have not the making of this -system: it is made to our hands by him who ordereth all things for the -best, how grievous soever his dispensations may sometimes appear to -us. Our duty, and our wisdom is to reflect what that system is, and to -conform ourselves to it. - -If a young man, on his entrance into life, could be made duly sensible -of the dreadful evils, which, in the very constitution of things, flow -from vice, there is scarcely any temptation that could prevail over his -virtue. But his levity and inexperience expose him to these evils: he -thinks nothing of them till they arrive, and then there is no escape -from them. - -To conclude: if any thing can rescue unwary youth out of the hands of -their own folly, it must be such a train of reflection as the text -offers to us. Let it sink deep into their minds, that there are indeed -_bitter things_ decreed against the iniquities of that early age; that -a thousand temporal evils spring from that source; that vicious habits -are in themselves vexatious and tormenting; and, that, uncorrected, -and unrepented of, they fill the mind with inutterable remorse and -horror. - -When the sins of youth are seen in this light, it is not by giving -them the soft name of infirmities, or by cloathing them with ideas of -pleasure, that we shall be able to reconcile the mind to them. Such -thin disguises will not conceal their true forms and natures from us. -We shall still take them for what indeed they are, for sorcerers and -assassins, the enchanters of our reason and the murderers of our peace. - -The sum of all is comprised in that memorable advice of the Psalmist, -so often quoted in this place (and, for once, let it have its effect -upon us): _Keep innocency, and take heed to the thing that is right, -for that shall bring a man peace at the last_[184]. - -Or, if the scorner will not listen to this advice, it only remains -to leave him to his own sad experience; but not till we have made -one charitable effort more to provoke his attention by the caustic -apostrophe of the wise man: _Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and -let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways -of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but_ KNOW THOU, _that, -for all these things, God will bring thee into judgement_[185]. - - - - -SERMON XXVIII. - -PREACHED MAY 28, 1769. - -ECCLESIASTES vii. 21, 22. - - _Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, lest thou hear thy - servant curse thee. For oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth, - that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed others._ - - -The royal author of this book has been much and justly celebrated for -his wise aphorisms and precepts on the conduct of human life. Among -others of this sort, the text may deserve to be had in reverence; -which, though simply and familiarly expressed, could only be the -reflexion of a man who had great experience of the world, and had -studied with care the secret workings of his own mind. - -The purpose of it is, to disgrace and discountenance that ANXIOUS -CURIOSITY (the result of our vanity, and a misguided self-love) which -prompts us to inquire into the sentiments and opinions of other persons -concerning us, and to give ourselves no rest till we understand what, -in their private and casual conversations, they say of us. - -“This curious disposition, says the preacher, is by all means to be -repressed, as the indulgence of it is both FOOLISH and UNJUST; as it -not only serves to embitter your own lives by the unwelcome discoveries -ye are most likely to make; but at the same time to convict your own -consciences of much iniquity; since, upon reflexion, ye will find that -ye have, yourselves, been guilty at some unguarded hour or other, of -the same malignity or flippancy towards other men.” - -In these two considerations is comprised whatever can be said to -discredit this vice: the _one_, you see, taken from the preacher’s -knowledge of human life; the _other_, from his intimate acquaintance -with the secret depravity and corruption of the human heart. - -Permit me, then, to enlarge on these two topics; and, by that means, to -open to you more distinctly the WISDOM, and the EQUITY of that conduct, -which is here recommended to us, of _not giving a sollicitous attention -to the frivolous and unweighed censures of other men_. - -I. _Take no heed_, says the preacher, _to all words that are spoken_, -LEST THOU HEAR THY SERVANT CURSE THEE. This is the FIRST reason which -he assigns for his advice. - -The force of it will be clearly apprehended, if we reflect (as the -observing author of the text had certainly done) that nothing is more -flippant, nothing more unreasonably and unaccountably petulant, than -the tongue of man. - -It is so little under the controul, I do not say of candour, or of -good-nature, but of common prudence, and of common justice, that it -moves, as it were, with the slightest breath of rumour; nay, as if a -tendency to speak ill of others were instinctive to it, it waits many -times for no cause from without, but is prompted as we may say, by its -own restlessness and volubility to attack the characters of those who -chance to be the subject of discourse. Without provocation, without -malice, without so much as intentional ill-will, it echoes the voice of -the present company; vibrates with the prevailing tone of conversation; -or takes occasion from the slightest occurrence, from some idle conceit -that strikes the fancy, from the impulse of a sudden and half-formed -suggestion, that stirs within us, to exercise its activity in a -careless censure of other men. - -Nay, what is more to be lamented, the sagacious observer of mankind -will find reason to conclude, that no zeal for our interests, no -kindness for our persons, shall at all times restrain this unruly -member, the tongue, from taking unwelcome freedoms with us. The -dearest friend we have, shall at some unlucky moment be seduced by an -affectation of wit, by a start of humour, by a flow of spirits, by a -sudden surmise, or indisposition, by any thing, in short, to let fall -such things of us, as have some degree of sharpness in them, and would -give us pain, if they were officiously reported to us. - -This appears to have been the sentiment of the wise preacher in the -text. Avoid, says he, this impertinent curiosity, _lest thou hear thy -servant curse thee_; lest the very persons that live under thy roof -and are most obliged to thee, who are reasonably presumed to have the -warmest concern for thy honour and interest, and on whose fidelity and -gratitude the security and comfort of thy whole life more immediately -depends, lest even these be found to make free with thy character. For -there is a time, when even _these_ may be carried to speak undutifully -and disrespectfully of thee. - -And would any man wish to make this discovery of those, who are -esteemed to be, and, notwithstanding these occasional freedoms, perhaps -_are_, his true servants and affectionate friends? - -For think not, when this unlucky discovery is made, that the offended -party will treat it with neglect, or be in a condition to consider it -with those allowances, that, in reason and equity, may be required of -him. No such thing: It will appear to him in the light of a heinous -and unpardonable indignity; it will occasion warm resentments, and not -only fill his mind with present disquiet, but most probably provoke -him to severe expostulations; the usual fruit of which is, to make a -deliberate and active enemy of him, who was, before, only an incautious -and indiscreet friend: at the best, it will engender I know not what -uneasy jealousies and black suspicions; which will mislead his judgment -on many occasions; and inspire an anxious distrust, not of the faulty -person himself only, but of others, who stand in the same relation to -him, and, perhaps, of all mankind. - -These several ill effects may be supposed, as I said, to flow from the -discovery: and it will be useful to set the malignity of _each_ in its -true and proper light. - -1. _First_, then, consider that a likely, or rather infallible effect -of this discovery, is, _to fire the mind with quick and passionate -resentments_. And what is it to be in this state, but to lose the -enjoyment of ourselves; to have the relish of every thing, we possess, -embittered by pungent reflexions on the perfidy and baseness of those, -with whom we live, and of whom it is our happiness to think well; to -have the repose of our lives disturbed by the most painful of all -sensations, that of supposed injury from our very friends? And for -what is this wretchedness, this misery, encountered? For the idleness -of an unweighed discourse; for something, which, if kept secret from -us, had been perfectly insignificant; for a discourtesy, which meant -nothing and tended to nothing; for a word, which came from the tongue, -rather than the heart; or, if the heart had any share in producing it, -was recalled perhaps, at least forgotten, in the moment it was spoken. -And can it be worth while to indulge a curiosity which leads to such -torment, when the object of our inquiry is itself so frivolous, as well -as the concern we have in it? - -2. _Another_ mischief attending the gratification of this impertinent -curiosity, is, That the unwelcome discoveries we make, _naturally lead -to peevish complaints and severe expostulations_; the effect of which -is, not only to continue and inflame the sense of the injury already -received, but to draw fresh and greater indignities on ourselves, to -push the offending party on extremes, and compell him, almost, whether -he will or no, to open acts of hostility against us. The former ill -treatment of us, whatever it might be, was perhaps forgotten; at least -it had hitherto gone no further than words, and, while it was, or was -supposed to be, undiscovered, there was no thought of repeating the -provocation, and there was time and opportunity left for repenting -of it, and for recovering a just sense of violated duty. But when -the offence is understood to be no longer a secret, the discovery -provokes fresh offences. Either pride puts the aggressor on justifying -what he has done; or the shame of conviction, and the despair of -pardon, turns indifference into hate; ready to break out into all -sorts of ill offices, and the readier, because the strong resentment -of so slight a matter, as a careless expression, is itself, in turn, -accounted an atrocious injury. And thus a small discourtesy, which, if -unnoticed, had presently died away, shall grow and spread into a rooted -_ill-will_, productive of gross reciprocal hostilities, and permanent -as life itself. - -It is on this account that wise men have always thought it better to -connive at moderate injuries, than, by an open resentment of them, to -provoke greater: and nothing is mentioned so much to the honour of a -noble Roman[186], as that, when he had the papers of an enemy in his -hands (which would certainly have discovered the disaffection of many -persons towards the republic and himself) he destroyed them all, and -prudently, as well as generously, resolved to know nothing of what they -contained. And this conduct, which was thought so becoming a great man -in public life, is unquestionably (on the same principle of prudence -and magnanimity, to say nothing of higher motives) the duty and concern -of every private man. - -3. But, _lastly_, supposing the resentment conceived on the discovery -of an ungrateful secret, should not break out into overt acts of hatred -and revenge, still the matter would not be much mended. For, _it would -surely breed a thousand uneasy suspicions_, which would prey on the -hurt mind; and do irreparable injury to the moral character, as well as -embitter the whole life of him who was unhappily conscious to them. - -The experience of such neglect or infidelity in those whom we had -hitherto loved and trusted, and from whom we had expected a suitable -return of trust and love, would infallibly sour the temper, and -create a constant apprehension of future unkindness. It would efface -the native candour of the mind, and bring a cloud of jealousy over -it; which would darken our views of human life. It would make us -cold, and gloomy, and reserved; indifferent to those who deserved -best of us, and unapt for the offices of society and friendship. -The more we suppressed these sentiments, the more would they fester -and rankle within us; till the mind became all over tenderness and -sensibility, and felt equal pain from its own groundless surmises, as -from real substantial injuries. In a word, we should have no relish -of conversation, no sincere enjoyment of any thing, we should only be -miserable _in_, and _from_ ourselves. - -And is this a condition to be officiously courted, and sought after? Or -rather, could we suffer more from the malice of our bitterest enemy, -than we are ready to do from our own anxious curiosity to pry into the -infirmities of our friends? - -HITHERTO I have insisted on the danger of _giving heed to all words -that are spoken_, LEST THOU HEAR THY SERVANT CURSE THEE; in other -words, on the FOLLY of taking pains to make a discovery, which may -prove unwelcome in itself, and dreadful in the consequent evils it may -derive upon us. - -II. It now remains that I say one word on the INJUSTICE, and want of -equity, which appears in this practice. FOR OFTENTIMES ALSO THINE OWN -HEART KNOWETH, THAT THOU THYSELF, LIKEWISE, HAST CURSED OTHERS. - -And as in the former case the preacher drew his remonstrance from -his knowledge of the world; so in this, he reasons from his intimate -knowledge of the human heart. - -Let the friendliest, the best man living, explore his own conscience, -and then let him tell us, or rather let him tell himself, if he can, -that he has never offended in the instance here given. I suppose, on a -strict inquiry, he will certainly call to mind some peevish sentiment, -some negligent censure, some sharp reflection, which, at times, hath -escaped him, even in regard to his _second self_, a bosom friend. -Either he took something wrong, and some suspicious circumstance misled -him; or, he was out of health and spirits; or, he was ruffled by some -ungrateful accident; or, he had forgotten himself in an hour of levity; -or a splenetic moment had surprised him. Some or other of these causes, -he will find, had betrayed him into a sudden warmth and asperity of -expression, which he is now ashamed and sorry for, and hath long since -retracted and condemned. - -_Still further_, at the very time when this infirmity overtook him, he -had no purposed unfriendliness, no resolved disaffection towards the -person he allowed himself to be thus free with. His tongue indeed had -offended, but his heart had scarce consented to the offence. The next -day, the next hour, perhaps, he would gladly have done all service, -possibly he would not have declined to hazard his life, for this abused -friend. - -I appeal, as the wise author of the text does, to yourselves, to the -inmost recollection of your own thoughts, if ye do not know and feel -that this which I have described hath sometimes been your own case. -And what then is the inference from this self-conviction? Certainly, -that ye ought in common justice, to restrain your inclination of prying -into the unguarded moments of other men. If your best friends have not -escaped your flippancy, where is the equity of demanding more reserve -and caution towards yourself from them? Without doubt the proper rule -is to suppose, and to forgive, these mutual indiscretions, which we -are all ready to commit towards each other. We should lay no stress on -these casual discourtesies; we should not desire to be made acquainted -with them; we should dismiss them, if some officious whisperer bring -the information to us, with indifference and neglect. To do otherwise -is not only to vex and disquiet ourselves for trifles: It is to be -unfair, uncandid, and _unjust_, in our dealings with others; it is to -convict ourselves of partiality and hypocrisy, _For thine own heart -knoweth, that thou thyself likewise hast done the same thing_. - -Ye have now, then, before you the substance of those considerations -which the text offers, for the prevention of that idle and hurtful -curiosity of looking into the secret dispositions and discourses of -other men. Ye see how foolish, how dangerous, how iniquitous it is, _to -give heed to all words that are spoken_. - -It becomes a man indeed to lay a severe check and restraint on his -own tongue. Far better would it be, if all men did so. But they who -know themselves and others, will not much expect this degree of -self-government, will not, if they be wise, be much scandalized at the -want of it; since they know the observance of it is so difficult and -sublime a virtue; since they know that nothing less than extraordinary -wisdom can, at all times, prevent the tongue of man from running into -excesses; since they are even told by an Apostle, _That if any man -offend not in word, the same is a perfect man_[187]. - -Let us then allow for what we cannot well help. And let this -consideration come in aid of the others, employed in the text, to -expell an inveterate folly, which prompts us to lay more stress upon -words, than such frivolous and fugitive things deserve. Let us regard -them, for the most part, but as the shaking of a leaf, or the murmur of -the idle air: they rarely merit our notice, and attention, more: or, -when they do, we should find it better to indulge our _charity_, than -our curiosity; I mean, to _believe well of others_, as long as we can, -rather than be at the pains of an anxious inquiry for a pretence to -_think ill_ of them. - - -THE END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME. - -NICHOLS and SON, Printers, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] διὰ τοῦτο—referring to the good effect of this way of teaching on -the disciples, whom it had enabled, as they confessed, to _understand_ -the things, which Jesus had taught them. - -[2] Tit. ii. 7. - -[3] Rom. xv. 2. - -[4] They did this with design, and on principle; as appears from St. -Austin’s discourse _de Doctrinâ Christianâ_, in which he instructs the -Christian preacher to employ, on some occasions, inelegant and even -barbarous terms and expressions, the better to suit himself to the -apprehensions of his less informed hearers—_non curante illo, qui -docet, quantâ eloquentiâ doceat, sed quantâ evidentiâ. Cujus evidentiæ -diligens appetitus aliquando negligit verba cultiora, nec curat -quid benè sonet, sed quid benè indicet atque intimet quod ostendere -intendit_—and what follows. L. iv. p. 74. Ed. Erasm. t. iii. - -[5] 1 Cor. ii. 2. - -[6] Archbishop Tillotson. - -[7] Heb. iii. 2. - -[8] 2 Cor. iv. 5. - -[9] Matt. xi. 15. - -[10] 1 Pet. iii. 3. - -[11] 1 Pet iii. 15. - -[12] ALPHONSUS THE WISE—I go on the common supposition, that this -Prince intended a reflexion on the _system of nature_ itself; but, -perhaps, his purpose was no more than, in a strong way of expression, -(though it must be owned, no very decent one) to reprobate the -_hypothesis_ [the _Ptolemaic_], which set that system in so bad a light. - -[13] —μεταξὺ ἀλλήλων τῶν λογισμῶν κατηγορούντων ἢ καὶ ἀπολογουμένων. -See the Paraphrase and Comment on this text by Mr. Taylor of Norwich, -to whom I acknowledge myself indebted for the idea which governs the -general method of this discourse. - -[14] _Nat. Deor._ l. ii. c. 66. - -[15] Sallust. - -[16] Plato’s _Republic_. - -[17] Xenophon’s _Inst. of Cyrus_. - -[18] Rom. ch. i. ver. 28-32.—ποιεῖν τὰ μὴ καθήκοντα—συνευδοκοῦσι -τοῖς πράσσουσι. - -[19] Cicero, passim. - -[20] Felix, Acts xxiv. 25. - -[21] Ch. ii. 26. - -[22] Ch. iii. 1. - -[23] Chap. iii. - -[24] Rom. vi. 23. - -[25] 2 Cor. v. 15. - -[26] 2 Cor. v. 19. - -[27] 1 John ii. 2. - -[28] Rom. iii. 24. - -[29] 1 Tim. iv. 10. - -[30] Rom. i. 9. - -[31] Rom. xv. 13. - -[32] Col. ii. 10. - -[33] Ephes. iii. 2. - -[34] John xii. 48. - -[35] Luke xix. 14. - -[36] 2 Peter ii. 21. - -[37] St. John, xiii. 1. - -[38] Ch. xiv. 1. - -[39] St. John, xiv. 2. - -[40] Ch. xiv. 6. - -[41] Ch. xiv. 7. - -[42] 1 Cor. ii. 5. - -[43] Matt. xxi. 27.—xxii. 46.—xxvii. 14. - -[44] Matt. xii. 38.—xvi. 1. - -[45] Mark iv. 34. - -[46] Mark iv. 34. - -[47] Mark iv. 11. - -[48] Matt. xiii. 58. Mark ix. 23. - -[49] Matt. vii. 6. - -[50] Mark iv. 25. - -[51] John xx. 29. - -[52] Isaiah lv. 8. - -[53] Wisdom, ix. 13. - -[54] 1 Cor. ii. 11. - -[55] Rom. xiii. 3. - -[56] Φῶς ἀπρόσιτον. 1 Tim. vi. 16. - -[57] John xiv. 22. - -[58] Τὴν λογικὴν λατρείαν. Rom. xii. 1. - -[59] The dispute about _Easter_, in the second century. - -[60] The dispute about _Images_, in the eighth century. - -[61] Matt. xi. 29. - -[62] Matt. x. 34. - -[63] Job xxxii. 21. - -[64] Plutarch, or whoever was the author of a fragment, printed among -his moral discourses, and entitled, Πότερον τὰ τῆς ψυχῆς ἢ τὰ τοῦ -σώματος Πάθη χείρονα. Par. Ed. vol. ii. p. 500. - -[65] Called _Æones_. See Grotius in loc. - -[66] Ἀπεράντοις. - -[67] Dat nobis et Paulus brevem γενεαλογίαν, sed perutilem. GROTIUS. - -[68] Rom. xii. 15. - -[69] Rom. i. 32. - -[70] 1 Peter iii. 16. - -[71] _Les petites morales_; as the French moralists call them. - -[72] Φιλανθρωπία. - -[73] Φιλαδελφία. - -[74] Τῆ φιλ. εἰς αλλ. ΦΙΛΟΣΤΟΡΓΟΙ. - -[75] _The integrity of the upright shall guide them._ Prov. xi. 3. - -[76] Δείπνου γενομένου— - -[77] See more on this subject in the DISCOURSE _on Christ’s driving the -merchants out of the temple_, at the end of the next volume. - -[78] Ver. 14. - -[79] If it be asked, why their _feet_? the answer is, that it was -customary in the east for one to wash the feet of another. And this -practice gave an easy introduction to the present enigmatical washing; -which was equally expressive of the information designed, when -performed on this part of the body, as on any other. - -[80] Grotius saw the necessity of looking beyond the literal meaning of -those words—_If I wash thee not_. “Mos Christi, says he, est a rebus, -quæ adspiciuntur, ad sensum sublimiorem ascendere.” His comment then -follows. “_Nisi te lavero_, id est, nisi _et sermone et spiritu eluero_ -quod in te restat minus puri,” &c. Considering how near Jesus was to -his crucifixion, when he said this, one a little wonders how the great -commentator, when he was to assign the mystical sense of these words, -should overlook that which lay before him. Surely his gloss should -have been, _Nisi sanguine meo te eluero_, &c.—Let me just add, that -the force of these words, as addressed to Peter, will be perfectly -understood, if we reflect that he, who said to Jesus—_Thou shalt -never wash my feet_—said on a former occasion to him, when he spoke, -without a figure, of his _death_ (though not, then, under the idea of a -propitiatory sacrifice, or ablution)—_Be it far from thee, Lord; this -shall not be unto thee_. Matt. xvi. 22. So little did Peter see the -necessity of being _washed_ by the blood of Christ! And so important -was the information now given him in this _mystical_ washing—_If I -wash thee not, thou hast no part with me_. - -[81] A remarkable instance will be given, in the Discourse referred to -above, at the close of the next volume. - -[82] Mark iv. 33. John xvi. 12. - -[83] John xiv. 26. - -[84] 1 John i. 7. - -[85] Rev. i. 5. - -[86] Eph. i. 7. Coloss. i. 14. - -[87] 1 Cor. v. 7. - -[88] 1 Pet. i. 12. 1 Cor. vi. 11. and elsewhere, _passim_. - -[89] Rom. iii. 25. - -[90] Luke xii. 46. - -[91] Rev. vii. 14. - -[92] 1 John. vi. 7. - -[93] Matt. xviii. 7. - -[94] Matt. vi. - -[95] Ver. 12. - -[96] Phil. iv. 18. - -[97] See Whitby in loc. - -[98] See passages cited by Dr. Hammond. - -[99] 1 Cor. iii. 13. - -[100] 1 Pet. i. 7. - -[101] 1 Pet. iv. 12. - -[102] Eccles. ii. 5. - -[103] Heb. xii. 1. - -[104] Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6. - -[105] The difficulty in the two concluding verses of this chapter, -arises from a _vivacity of imagination in the pursuit and application -of metaphors_; a faculty, in which the Orientals excelled, and -delighted. They pass suddenly from one idea to another, nearly, and -sometimes, remotely, allied to it. They relinquish the primary sense, -for another suggested by it; and without giving any notice, as we -should do, of their intention. These numerous _reflected lights_, as we -may call them, eagerly catched at by the mind in its train of thinking, -perplex the attention of a modern reader, and must be carefully -separated by him, if he would see the whole scope and purpose of many -passages in the sacred writings. - -[106] 1 Cor. iv. 7. - -[107] 1 Cor. xiii. - -[108] As in the case of the _real presence_ in the sacrament of the -altar. - -[109] As in the case of _good works_. - -[110] An ingenious writer, who appears not to have been hackneyed in -the ways of controversy, and is, therefore, the more likely to see -the truth, in any plain question of religion, as well as to declare -it, expresses himself, fully, to the same effect—“It is very weakly -urged, that religion should keep pace with science in improvement; and -that a subscription to articles must always impede its progress: for -nothing can be more absurd than the idea of a progressive religion; -which, being founded upon the declared, not the imagined, will of God, -must, if it attempt to proceed, relinquish that Revelation which is -its basis, and so cease to be a religion founded upon God’s word. God -has revealed himself; and all that he has spoken, and consequently all -that is demanded of us to accede to, is declared in one book, from -which nothing is to be retrenched, and to which nothing can be added. -All that it contains, was as perspicuous to those who first perused it, -after the rejection of the papal yoke, as it can be to us NOW, or as it -can be to our posterity in the FIFTIETH GENERATION.” See _A Scriptural -Confutation of Mr. Lindsey’s Apology_. Lond. 1774. p. 220. - -[111] Rom. xi. 33. - -[112] Rom. x. 17. - -[113] 1 Cor. ix. 16. - -[114] Heb. iv. 12. - -[115] 1 Cor. xii. 7. - -[116] - - ——potus ut ille - Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas, - Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri. - Hor. 2. Sat. iii. 254. - -[117] John xii. 48. - -[118] 2 Cor. iv. 7. - -[119] Matth. x. 16. - -[120] Cic. Off. L. i. c. 31. - -[121] See the Story of Musonius Rufus in Tacitus, Hist. L. iii. c. 81. - -[122] Cic. de Or. L. ii. c. 18. - -[123] Bene præcipiunt, qui vetant quidquam agere, quod dubites, æquum -sit an iniquum: æquitas enim lucet ipsa per se; dubitatio cogitationem -significat injuriæ. - Cic. de Off. L. I. ix. - -[124] Matth. v. 8. - -[125] To the same purpose, Seneca, of the old heathen philosophers: -“Antiqua sapientia,” says he, “nihil aliud, quàm FACIENDA et VITANDA, -præcepit: et tunc longè meliores erant viri: postquam docti prodierunt, -boni desunt. Simplex enim illa et aperta virtus in obscuram et solertem -scientiam versa est, docemurque disputare, non vivere.” Senec. Ep. xcv. - -[126] Corrumpere et corrumpi, _sæculum_ vocatur. Tacitus. - -[127] Frequens imitatio transit in mores. Quinctil. L. I. c. XI. - -[128] _Vitam impendere vero._ His motto. - -[129] Mes ennemies auront beau faire avec leurs injures; ils ne -m’ôteront point l’honneur d’être un homme véridique en touts chose, -_d’être le seul auteur de mon siecle, & de beaucoup d’autres, qui ait -écrit de bonne foi_. - Rousseau, Lettre à M. de Beaumont. - -[130] “Une preuve de sa bonne foi, c’est qu’il [M. Newton] a commenté -l’Apocalypse. Il y trouve clairement que le Pape est l’Antichrist, et -il explique d’ailleurs ce livre comme tous ceux qui s’en sont mêlés. -Apparemment qu’il a voulu par ce commentaire CONSOLER LA RACE HUMAINE -de la supériorité qu’il avoit sur elle.” Œuvres de Voltaire, T. v. c. -29. 1757. - -“If he [K. James I.] has composed a commentary on the Revelations, -and proved the Pope to be Antichrist; may not a similar reproach be -extended to the famous Napier; and even to NEWTON, at a time when -learning was much more advanced than during the reign of James? From -the grossness of its superstitions, we may infer the ignorance of an -age; but never should pronounce concerning the FOLLY OF AN INDIVIDUAL, -from his admitting popular errors, consecrated with the appearance of -religion.” Hume’s Hist. of Great Britain, Vol. VI. p. 136. Lond. 1763. -8vo. - -[131] - - Nil actum credens, dum quid superesset agendum. - Lucan. - -[132] HIPPIAS, THE ELEAN. Cic. de Oratore, c. 32. - -[133] SOCRATES. - -[134] 2 Cor. xii. 2. - -[135] 1 Cor. xiii. 2. - -[136] Philip. iii. 6. - -[137] Matt. v. 17. - -[138] BAYLE, Comm. Phil. Part II. Ch. IV. LOCKE on Toleration, Letter -I. WARBURTON, D. L. B. v. S. 11. - -[139] 1 Tim. i. 15. - -[140] 1 Cor. xv. 9. - -[141] De se tromper en croyant vraie la religion Chrétienne, il n’y -a pas grand’ chose à perdre: mais quel malheur de se tromper en la -croyant fausse! M. Pascal, p. 225. - -[142] Plutarch. BRUTUS. - -[143] Of opening private letters, and employing spies of state. -CLARENDON. - -[144] John x. 32. - -[145] “Illa in illo homine mirabilia fuerunt, comprehendere multos -amicitiâ, tueri obsequio, cum omnibus communicare quod habebat, servire -temporibus suorum omnium, pecuniâ, gratiâ, labore corporis, scelere -etiam, si opus esset, et audaciâ: versare suam naturam, et regere ad -tempus, atque huc et illuc torquere et flectere; cum tristibus severè, -cum remissis jucunde; cum senibus graviter, cum juventute comiter; cum -facinorosis audacter, cum libidinosis luxuriosè vivero. Hâc ille tam -variâ multiplicique naturâ, &c.” _Cicero pro M. Cælio_, c. iii. - -[146] Juventus pleraque, sed maximè _nobilium_, Catilinæ incœptis -favebat. _Sallust._ c. 17. And again: omnino _cuncta plebes_, Catilinæ -incœpta probabat. c. 37. - -[147] 1 John iii. 21. - -[148] St. Ambrose. Apud Whitby. - -[149] John xviii. 31. - -[150] Rom. iii. 4. - -[151] The words ταπεινὸς, and _humilis_, are observed to be generally, -if not always, used in a bad sense by the Greek and Latin writers. - -[152] Philipp. ii. 5. 8. - -[153] Matthew xvi. 24. - -[154] Matth. xxiii. 33. - -[155] Mark x. 21. - -[156] For it is with propositions, as with _characters_, in relation -to which the language of the true moralist is: “Explica, atque excute -intelligentiam tuam, ut videas quæ sit in eâ species, forma, et notio -viri boni.” - Cic. de Off. l. III. c. 20. - -[157] Prov. ii. 4. - -[158] 1 Tim. v. 6. - -[159] Prov. ix. 8. - -[160] Queis humana sibi doleat natura negatis. - Hor. I. S. i. 75. - -[161] Eccles. v. 11. - -[162] Prov. xvi. 25. - -[163] Prov. xxiii. 5. - -[164] Si hoc est _explere_, quod statim profundas. - CIC. Phil. ii. 8. - -[165] Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur. PERSIUS. - -[166] 1 Tim. vi. 9. - -[167] - - Ardua res hæc est, opibus non tradere mores, - Et cùm tot Crœsos viceris, esse Numam. - MARTIAL, XI. vi. - -[168] Matth. xix. 23. - -[169] Ps. lxii. 10. - -[170] Luke xvi. 9. - -[171] 2 Cor. xiii. 14. - -[172] 1 Thess. iv. 8. - -[173] Acts xi. 16. - -[174] Eph. i. 13. - -[175] It was the easier to do this, as the Heathens had their Minerva -and Diana, as well as grosser deities; and their vestal virgins too; -though, I doubt, in less numbers than the shameless votaries of the -Corinthian Venus. - See STRABO, L. viii. p. 378. Par. 1620. - -[176] Ps. xlvi. 4.—lxxx. 1.—xxvi. 8. - -[177] Nullis POLLUITUR casta domus stupris. HOR. - -Cum castum amisit POLLUTO CORPORE florem. CATUL. - -[178] Dr. Whitby on the place. - -[179] Rom. vi. 21. - -[180] Job xx. 11. - -[181] Prov. xxi. 17. - -[182] The poet says well of such _stains_, as these; - - _Impressæ resident nec eluentur._ - CATULL. - -[183] SUET. J. Cæsar, c. 45. - -[184] Ps. xxxvii. 38. - -[185] Eccles. c. xi. 9. - -[186] Pompey, who burnt the papers of Sertorius. - -[187] James iii. 2. - - -[Transcriber’s Note: - -Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original. - -Greek words beginning with ϖ have had the character replaced with π.] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 -(of 8), by Richard Hurd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF RICHARD HURD, VOL 6 *** - -***** This file should be named 54541-0.txt or 54541-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/4/54541/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Bryan Ness, wayne Hammond and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 (of 8) - -Author: Richard Hurd - -Release Date: April 12, 2017 [EBook #54541] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF RICHARD HURD, VOL 6 *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Bryan Ness, wayne Hammond and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="transnote"> -<h3>Transcriber’s Note:</h3> - -<p>This project uses utf-8 encoded characters. If some characters are -not readable, check your settings of your browser to ensure you have a -default font installed that can display utf-8 characters.</p></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">i</span></p> - -<h1><small>THE</small><br /> - -WORKS<br /> - -<small>OF</small><br /> - -RICHARD HURD, D.D.<br /> - -<span class="large">LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.</span><br /> - -<span class="medium">VOL. VI.</span><br /></h1> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">ii</span></p> - -<p class="copy"> -Printed by J. Nichols and Son,<br /> -Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.<br /></p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">iii</span></p> - -<h2 class="xx-large"> -<small>THE</small><br /> - -WORKS<br /> - -<small>OF</small><br /> - -RICHARD HURD, D.D.<br /> - -<span class="large">LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.<br /> - -IN EIGHT VOLUMES.<br /> - -VOL. VI.</span><br /> - -<img src="images/titlepage.png" alt="" /><br /> - -<span class="large">LONDON:</span><br /> - -<span class="medium">PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.<br /> - -1811.</span> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">iv</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">v</span></h2> - -<h2 class="xx-large"> -THEOLOGICAL WORKS.<br /> - -<span class="large">VOL. II.</span> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">vi</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">vii</span></h2> - -<h2 class="xx-large"> -SERMONS<br /> - -<small>PREACHED AT</small><br /> - -LINCOLN’S-INN,<br /> - -<span class="large">BETWEEN THE YEARS 1765 AND 1776:</span><br /> - -<small>WITH</small><br /> - -<span class="large">A LARGER DISCOURSE,</span><br /> - -<small>ON</small><br /> - -<span class="large">CHRIST’S DRIVING THE MERCHANTS<br /> -OUT OF THE TEMPLE;</span><br /> - -<small>IN WHICH THE NATURE AND END OF THAT FAMOUS<br /> - -TRANSACTION IS EXPLAINED.</small></h2> - -<p class="hang"> -SATIS ME VIXISSE ARBITRABOR, ET OFFICIUM -HOMINIS IMPLESSE, SI LABOR MEUS ALIQUOS -HOMINES, AB ERRORIBUS LIBERATOS, AD ITER -CŒLESTE DIREXERIT. -<span class="author smcap">Lactantius.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">viii</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">ix</span></p> - -<h2 class="xx-large"> -<small>TO THE</small><br /> - -MASTERS OF THE BENCH<br /> - -<small>OF THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF</small><br /> - -LINCOLN’S INN,<br /> - -<span class="large">THE FOLLOWING SERMONS,</span><br /> - -<small>IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THEIR MANY AND<br /> - -GREAT FAVOURS,<br /> - -ARE BY THE AUTHOR<br /> - -MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.</small><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">x</span><br /> - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">xi</span></h2> - -<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS<br /> - -<small>OF</small><br /> - -THE SIXTH VOLUME.</h2> - -<table> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_I"><span class="smcap">Sermon I.</span> Preached Feb. 3, 1771.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Mat.</span> xiii. 51, 52.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood - all these things? They say unto him, Yea, - Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore - every scribe which is instructed unto the - kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that - is an householder, which bringeth forth out - of his treasure things new and old.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_II"><span class="smcap">Sermon II.</span> Preached Nov. 8, 1767.<br /> - <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> x. 15.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I say.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">23 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">xii</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_III"><span class="smcap">Sermon III.</span> Preached May 17, 1767.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> ii. 14, 15.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>When the Gentiles, which have not the Law</i>, - <small>DO</small> <i>by Nature the things contained in the - Law, these, having not the Law, are a Law - unto themselves: which shew the work of - the Law written in their hearts, their</i> <small>CONSCIENCE</small> - <i>also bearing witness, and their - thoughts in the mean while</i> <small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or else</i> - <small>EXCUSING</small> <i>one another</i>.</td> - <td class="tdrb">37</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_IV"><span class="smcap">Sermon IV.</span> Preached May 24, 1767.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Gal.</span> iii. 19.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">52</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_V"><span class="smcap">Sermon V.</span> Preached May 1, 1768.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Heb.</span> ii. 3.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>How shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation?</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">67</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VI"><span class="smcap">Sermon VI.</span> Preached Nov. 16, 1766.<br /> - <span class="smcap">John</span> xiv. 8.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">83</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VII"><span class="smcap">Sermon VII.</span> Preached in the year 1771.<br /> - <span class="smcap">James</span> iv. 1.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>From whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members?</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">101 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">xiii</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon VIII.</span> Preached April 29, 1770.<br /> - <span class="smcap">1 Tim.</span> i. 5.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>The end of the Commandment is Charity, out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">116</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_IX"><span class="smcap">Sermon IX.</span> Preached Nov. 9, 1766.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xii. 10.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>—<i>In honour preferring one another.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">130</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_X"><span class="smcap">Sermon X.</span> Preached May 6, 1770.<br /> - <span class="smcap">John</span> xiii. 8.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>—<i>Jesus answered him, if I wash thee not, thou host no part with me.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">143</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XI.</span> Preached June 20, 1773.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Mark</span> ix. 49.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>For every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">160</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XII.</span> Preached Feb. 9, 1766.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Gal.</span> vi. 3.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">174</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIII.</span> Preached May 16, 1773.<br /> - <span class="smcap">2 Cor.</span> x. 12.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>We dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves, with some that commend themselves: But they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">187 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">xiv</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIV.</span> Preached April 27, 1766.<br /> - St. <span class="smcap">Mark</span> iv. 24.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Take heed what ye hear.</i> Or, as the equivalent phrase is in St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, viii. 18. <i>Take heed</i> <small>HOW</small> <i>ye hear</i>.</td> - <td class="tdrb">201</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XV.</span> Preached Nov. 24, 1765.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">215</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVI.</span> Preached Dec. 1, 1765.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">230</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVII.</span> Preached Nov. 22, 1772.<br /> - <span class="smcap">John</span> v. 44.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh of God only?</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">245</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVIII.</span> Preached April 23, 1769.<br /> - <span class="smcap">John</span> ix. 41.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye should have no sin; but now ye say, we see; therefore your sin remaineth.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">260 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">xv</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIX"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIX.</span> Preached May 12, 1771.<br /> - <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> viii. 1.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">276</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XX"><span class="smcap">Sermon XX.</span> Preached Nov. 19, 1769.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Acts of the Apostles</span> xxvi. 9.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">290</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXI.</span> Preached May 10, 1767.<br /> - St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span> vi. 26.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">304</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXII.</span> Preached Feb. 6, 1774.<br /> - St. <span class="smcap">John</span> viii. 11.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee; Go, and sin no more.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">319</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXIII.</span> Preached March 1, 1772.<br /> - St. <span class="smcap">Matthew</span> xi. 29.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">333</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXIV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXIV.</span> Preached April 30, 1769.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Luke</span> xvi. 14.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all those things: and they derided him.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">350 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">xvi</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXV.</span> Preached June 25, 1775.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> v. 10.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">366</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVI.</span> Preached Feb. 21, 1773.<br /> - <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> vi. 20.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">378</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVII.</span> Preached March 13, 1774.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Job</span> xiii. 26.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">393</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVIII.</span> Preached May 28, 1769.<br /> - <span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> vii. 21, 22.</a></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, - lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For - oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth, - that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed - others.</i></td> - <td class="tdrb">407</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">1</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_I">SERMON I.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 3, 1771.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Matth.</span> xiii. 51, 52.</h3> - -<p><i>Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood -all these things? They say unto him, Yea, -Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore -every scribe which is instructed unto the -kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that -is an householder, which bringeth forth out -of his treasure things new and old.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">If</span> there be any difficulty in these words, it -will be removed by considering the <i>manners</i> -of that time, in which Jesus lived, and the -<i>ideas</i> of those persons, to whom he addressed -himself. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">2</span></p> - -<p>The Israelites were a plain, frugal people; -abundantly supplied with all things needful to -the convenient support of life, but very sparingly -with such as come under the notion of ornaments -or superfluities. They drew their means of -subsistence chiefly from pasturage, agriculture, -and other rural occupations. Gold and Silver -was scarce among the ancient Jews; and the -less necessary to them, as they had little traffic -among themselves, and still less with their -pagan neighbours; the wisdom of their Law -having purposely restrained, and, upon the -matter, prohibited, all the gainful ways of -commerce.</p> - -<p>Now, to a people, thus circumstanced, unfurnished, -in a good degree, with arts and -manufactures, and but slenderly provided with -the <i>means of exchange</i> for the commodities -they produce; management, thrift, and what -we call <i>good husbandry</i>, must have been a -capital virtue. <i>Householders</i> were especially -concerned to hoard up, and keep by them, in -readiness, all such things as might be requisite -either to cloath or feed their respective families. -And therefore, as they were continually making -fresh additions to their stock, so they carefully -preserved what things they had, provided they -were of a nature to be preserved, although -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">3</span> -time and use had impaired the grace, or diminished -the value, of them. Thus, they had -things <i>new and old</i> laid up in their store-house, -or <i>treasury</i> (for these provisions were indeed -their <i>treasure</i>), which, as the text says, they -could <i>bring forth</i>, on any emergency that -called for them.</p> - -<p>And to this Jewish <i>Householder</i>, thus furnished -and prepared for all occasions, our Lord -compares <i>the scribe, instructed unto the kingdom -of heaven</i>, in other words, the minister, -or preacher of the Gospel. Every such <i>scribe</i> -was to be suitably provided with what might -be serviceable to those committed to his charge: -And the Text delivers it, as <i>a general inference</i> -from the example of Christ himself -(who, from a variety of topics, some <i>new</i>, -some <i>old</i>, had been instructing his disciples in -this chapter), that <small>WE</small>, the teachers of his religion, -should likewise have in store a variety -of knowledge for the supply of his church, and -that we should not be backward or sparing, as -we see occasion, in the use of it. <span class="smcap">Therefore</span>, -says he, that is, <i>for this end</i><a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> that your respective -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span> -charges may be well and perfectly instructed -by you, as you have been by me, -<i>every scribe, which is instructed unto the kingdom -of heaven, is like unto a man that is an -householder, which bringeth forth out of his -treasure things new and old</i>.</p> - -<p>It is true, if this instruction of our Lord -and Master had concerned <i>only</i> the preachers -of the word, I might have found a fitter place -and occasion for a discourse upon it. But the -case is much otherwise; and it concerns <i>all</i> -the faithful to understand what the duty of -those is, who are intrusted to dispense the word -of life, lest they take offence at the ministry, -without cause, and so deprive themselves of -the fruit which they might otherwise reap -from it.</p> - -<p>Let me therefore lay before you some plain -considerations on the aphorism in the text; -and submit it to yourselves how far they may -deserve the notice of all Christians.</p> - -<p>It would be ridiculous, no doubt, to torture -a meer figure of speech; and to pursue a metaphor -through all the minute applications, -which an ordinary imagination might find or -invent for it. But I shall not be suspected of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span> -trifling in this sort, when I only conclude, -from the comparison of a <i>Christian Scribe</i> to -the <i>Jewish Householder</i>;</p> - -<p>I. That all the treasures of knowledge, -which the <span class="smcap">minister of the Gospel</span> may have -laid up in his mind, are destined, <i>not to the -purposes of vanity, but to the use of his -charge</i>; for such must have been the intention -of a reasonable <i>Householder</i>, in the stock of -provisions he had so carefully collected:</p> - -<p>II. That such use must be estimated from -the apparent <i>wants of those, to whom this -knowledge is dispensed</i>; for so the frugal -<i>householder</i> expends his provisions on those -who evidently stand in need of them: And</p> - -<p>III. Lastly, That among these wants, some, -at certain conjunctures, may be <i>more general</i>, -or <i>more pressing</i>, than ordinary; and then -his first care must be to relieve these, though -other real, and perhaps considerable wants, -be, for the present, neglected by him: just, -again, as the discreet <i>householder</i> is anxious to -provide against an uncommon distress that -befalls his whole family, or the greater part -of it, or that threatens the immediate destruction -of those whom it befalls, though he suspend -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span> -his care, for a season, of particular, or -less momentous distresses.</p> - -<p>In these <small>THREE</small> respects, then, I propose to -illustrate and enforce the comparison of the -Text, without any apprehension of being -thought to do violence to it.</p> - -<p>I. The knowledge of a <i>well-instructed Scribe</i> -must be directed to the edification of his -charge, and not at all to the gratification of his -own vanity.</p> - -<p>This conclusion results immediately from the -<i>subject</i> of the comparison. For the <i>Christian -Scribe</i> is not compared to a <i>prince</i>, who is -allowed, and even expected, to consult his own -state and magnificence; or, to one of those -popular <i>magistrates</i> in ancient times, whose -office it was to exhibit splendid shews, and furnish -expensive entertainments, to their fellow-citizens: -but to a plain Jewish <i>householder</i>, -who had nothing to regard beyond the necessary, -or, at most, decent accommodation of his -family.</p> - -<p>And the comparison is <i>aptly</i> made, as we -shall see if we consider, either the <i>end</i> of a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span> -preacher’s office, or the <i>decorum</i> of his character.</p> - -<p>His <small>OFFICE</small> obliges him to intend the most -essential interests of mankind, the reformation -of their lives, and the salvation of their souls. -And when the object of his care is so important, -what wonder if all inferior considerations -fall before it?</p> - -<p>Besides, the Christian preacher has a <i>commission</i> -to discharge, a divine <i>message</i> to deliver. -And in such a case, men look not for -ingenuity, but fidelity. An ancient, or a modern -sophist may make what excursions he -thinks fit into the wide fields of science; and -may entertain us with his learning, or his wit, -as he finds himself able. He <i>may</i>, I say, do -this; for he has only to recommend himself to -our esteem, and to acquire a little popular reputation. -But <small>WE</small> have a <i>dispensation</i> committed -to us, <i>a form of sound words</i>, from -which we must not depart, <i>a doctrine</i>, which -we are to deliver with <i>uncorruptness</i>, <i>gravity</i>, -<i>sincerity</i><a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a>. We please not men, but God; or -if men, <i>to their good</i>, only, <i>to edification</i><a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">3</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span></p> - -<p>The <small>DECORUM</small> of our character requires, too, -that we be superior to all the arts of vanity and -ostentation. Even in secular professions, it is -expected that this rule of propriety be observed. -A <i>Physician</i> would be ridiculous, that -was more curious in penning a prescription, -than in weighing the matter of it: and the -<i>Advocate</i> would be little esteemed, that should -be more solicitous to display himself, than to -serve his client. How much more then may -it be expected from <i>a preacher of righteousness</i>, -that <small>HE</small> should forget his own personal -importance amid the high concerns of his profession!</p> - -<p>And such was indeed the conduct of our -best guides, in the ministry. The ancient -Fathers were, many of them, richly furnished -with all the endowments, that might be required -to set themselves off to the utmost advantage. -Yet we find them, in their homilies -and discourses to the people, inattentive to -every thing but their main end; delivering -themselves, with an energy indeed, but a -plainness and even negligence of expression<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">4</a>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span> -that tempts frivolous readers, sometimes, to -make a doubt of their real, and, from other -monuments of their skill and pains, unquestioned -abilities.</p> - -<p>And, in this contempt of secular fame, they -did but copy the example of St. Paul himself, -the great Apostle of the Gentiles; who, though -distinguished by the sublimest parts, though -profound in his knowledge of the Law, and -not unacquainted with Gentile learning, affected -no display either of his natural or acquired talents, -but, as he tells us himself (and his -writings attest the truth of his declaration), -<i>determined to know nothing</i>, among the faithful, -<i>save Jesus Christ, and him crucified</i><a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">5</a>.</p> - -<p>Not that what abilities we have, are always -to lie concealed. There are occasions, no -doubt, when they may properly, that is, usefully, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span> -be exerted. But the minister of the -Gospel does not go in quest of such occasions: -he only adapts himself to them, when they -come in his way; and then pursues them no -farther than the end, he has in view, the edification -of others, not his own credit, demands -from him.</p> - -<p>By this rule, the preachers of the word are -to conduct themselves. By the same rule, it -will, therefore, be but just to estimate their -charitable labours; and, when we see nothing -to admire in them, to conclude, That this -plainness of character may not be always owing -to incapacity, but sometimes, at least, to discretion -and the higher regards of duty.</p> - -<p>And this candour, as liable as it is to misinterpretation, -will not be thought excessive, -if you reflect, that, as, in general, they are -bound to consult the good of their charge, and -to deliver nothing to their auditors, but what -they foresee, or presume at least, will be <i>useful</i> -to them: So</p> - -<p>II. In the next place, The <i>degree</i> of that -utility must be regarded by the prudent dispenser -of God’s word, and can only be estimated -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span> -by the apparent <i>wants</i> of those, to whom his -instructions are addressed.</p> - -<p>It is an especial part of the <i>householder’s</i> -prudence to take care, that his treasure be laid -out on those, who have most need of it. He -has enough to do, perhaps, to satisfy the more -pressing demands of his domestics; and the -rules of a good œconomy require that he regard -those, before their humourous inclinations, or -even their more tolerable necessities. To speak -in Jewish ideas, He, that wants a <i>coat</i>, to defend -himself from the injuries of the weather, -must be supplied with that necessary garment, -though he go without a <i>cloak</i>; or, when a piece -of <i>bread</i> is called for, it must be administered -to the hungry, though others be made to wait -for their delicacies of <i>milk</i> and <i>honey</i>; or, a -lamb from the fold may be served up at an ordinary -feast, while the <i>fatted calf</i> is reserved -for some more solemn occasion.</p> - -<p>Just thus it is in the dispensation of the -word. We apply ourselves, first and principally, -to relieve the more importunate demands -of our hearers; and, not being able, at the -same time, to provide for all, we prefer the case -of those who are starving for the want of necessary -instruction, to that of others who are in a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span> -condition to subsist on what hath already been -imparted to them.</p> - -<p>Hence it is, that we are most frequent in -pressing the fundamental truths of the Gospel: -as well knowing, that very many have yet to -learn, or at least to digest, the first principles -of their religion; and that few, in comparison, -are either prepared, or enough disposed, <i>to go -on to perfection</i>.</p> - -<p>There are those, perhaps, who expect us to -clear up some nice point of casuistry, or to lay -open to them the grounds and reasons of some -obnoxious article in the Christian Creed: in a -word, they would take it kindly of us, if, dropping -the common topics, which have been long -and much worn in the service of religion, we -provided some fresh ones, for their entertainment; -and instead of the stale fragments, -which are always at hand, and lie open to all -the family, we served up to them something -of better taste from the inner rooms of our -store-house, where our choicest viands are laid -up. All this is extremely well: and in due -season, so far as is fitting, the charitable dispenser -of God’s word will not be wanting to -their expectations; for he has gathered nothing, -however rare or exquisite, in the course of his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span> -<i>household</i> industry, of which he does not wish -them to partake. But, for the present, he -finds this indulgence to be out of place: he -sees, that the plainest duties of life, and the -most unquestioned articles of the faith, are, first -of all, to be inculcated: he perceives, that -numbers want to be put in mind of old practical -truths; and perhaps he understands, that -even those, who are the most forward to call -out for novelties in speculation, do not make -this demand with the best grace. He could -amuse them, it may be, with a curious theological -Lecture: but what if their sense of divine -things be dead? what if they want to have -their minds stimulated by the admonitions, -and their consciences alarmed with the terrors, -of the Gospel?</p> - -<p>The question is not put at hazard. For so, -the Roman Governor was impatient <i>to hear -St. Paul concerning the faith in Christ</i>; -when yet the Apostle chose to <i>reason</i> with -him <i>of righteousness, temperance, and judgement -to come</i>: plain moral topics, such as had -often been discussed before him in the schools -of philosophy, but were now resumed to -good purpose; for in the end, we are told, -<i>Felix trembled</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span></p> - -<p>Even, in the case of those, who may be -decent in their lives, who are enough instructed -in what is called morality, nay, and would -take it ill to be thought wanting in a competent -share of religious knowledge, a discourse -on <i>the elements of the faith</i> may not be, altogether, -unseasonable. For there are, of -these, who exclude <i>Religion</i>, from their -scheme of morality; or <i>Christianity</i>, from their -scheme of religion; or who, professing Christianity, -scarce know what <i>Redemption</i> means: -who are yet to learn with what awful, yet filial -piety, they are to look up to God <i>the Father</i>; -who reflect not, what transcendant honour is -due from them to God <i>the Son</i>; and who have -scarce, perhaps, heared, or have little regarded, -whether there <i>be any Holy Ghost</i>.</p> - -<p>If any such attend our assemblies, think -not much that we are ready to impart to them -the plainest, the commonest, because the most -<i>necessary</i>, instruction: and, though we would -consult the wants of all, you are not to be surprized, -or disgusted, if we run to the relief of -those first, who want our assistance most; and, -like the good <i>householder</i>, bestow our <i>old -things</i> on the needy and indigent, before we -expend our <i>new</i> on the curious and delicate; -who might, we will say, be better accommodated -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span> -with them, but are not, in the mean -time, destitute of what is needful to their spiritual -life. But</p> - -<p>III. This care is more especially required -of the Christian Scribe, when his charge is -exposed, in certain conjunctures, to new and -extraordinary wants, which, if not relieved in -the instant, may grow to be ruinous, and absolutely -fatal: then, above all, he is to consider, -not what instruction is most acceptable -to his hearers, but what their critical situation -demands.</p> - -<p>For, here again, the example of the watchful -and beneficent <i>householder</i>, is our direction. -The season may be uncommonly severe and -inclement: or, a dangerous, perhaps a contagious -disease, afflicts his family; and then -the warmest, although the coarsest, clothing -must be sought out for the <i>naked</i>; and not -the most palatable, but the most wholesome -food, must be administered to the <i>sick</i>.</p> - -<p>Disasters, like these, sometimes befall the -household of Christ. A cold atheistic spirit -prevails, and chills the vital principles of all -virtue, as well as religion: or a pestilent -heresy spreads its venom through the church, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span> -and turns the medicine of life itself, the salutary -instruction of God’s word, unless prepared and -applied by skilful hands, into a deadly poison. -Then it is that the well-appointed Scribe emulates -the generous care and pains of the good -<i>householder</i>; and whatever he has in store, of -ancient or modern collection, whether of philosophy -or criticism, whether of eloquent persuasion -or sound logic, all must be brought -forth, to warm the piety, or to purify the faith, -of his hearers.</p> - -<p>We, of this nation, have not been so happy -as to want examples of such distresses.</p> - -<p>1. The fanatical sects, that sprung up in -abundance amid the confusions of the last -century, had so corrupted the word of God -by their impure glosses on the Gospel-doctrine -of Grace, that the age became immoral on -principle, and, under the name of <i>Saints</i>, engendered -a hateful brood of profligate <i>Antinomians</i>; -that is, a sort of Christians, if they -may be so called, <i>who turned the grace of -God into licentiousness</i>, and, to magnify his -goodness, very conscientiously transgressed his -Laws. In a word, they taught, that the -<i>elect</i> were above ordinances, and might be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span> -saved without, nay in defiance of, the moral -Law.</p> - -<p>This horrid divinity struck so directly at the -root of all true religion, that it could not but -alarm the zeal of good men. Accordingly, -about the time of the Restoration, and for -some years after it, a number of eminent Divines -(and <small>ONE</small> especially, well known, and -deservedly honoured, in this place<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">6</a>) bent all -their nerves to expose and confound so pernicious -a heresy: and with so invincible a -force of plain and perspicuous reasoning, as -brought most men to their senses, and effectually -silenced, or disgraced, the rest. They -opened the grounds and obligations of morality -so plainly, and set the Gospel scheme of salvation -<i>through faith, working by charity</i>, in -so full and striking a light, that injured <i>Virtue</i> -recovered her ancient honours, and yet was -taught to acknowledge a just dependance on -saving <i>Faith</i>.</p> - -<p>Such was the triumph of enlightened reason -and well-interpreted Scripture over <i>Antinomianism</i>: -while yet many perverse, and more -mistaken, hearers of those days, were ready to -revile their teachers, for dwelling so much and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span> -so long on these <i>old</i> topics, and would have -gladly received other, and more <i>novel</i> instructions, -at their hands.</p> - -<p>2. But now the licence of that age, which -followed the Restoration, was gone over, on the -sudden, into other extravagances, equally ruinous -to the souls of men.</p> - -<p>It had been made too clear to be denied, -that moral righteousness is of indispensable -obligation, so long as there is a God to serve, -or common sense is allowed to have any hand -in explaining his laws. To get rid then of so -inconvenient a restraint, as genuine morality; -many daring spirits of that time, rushed into -<i>Atheism</i>; while the more timid, took refuge -in <i>Popery</i>. For, to disown a moral Governour, -or to admit that any observances of superstition -can release men from the duty of -obeying him, equally serves the purpose of -those, who resolve to be as wicked as they dare, -or as little virtuous as they can.</p> - -<p>These new evils, each of which, in its turn, -the court itself had countenanced, or introduced, -called for fresh remedies; and it was -not long before they were administered, with -effect. The same eminent persons, who had -vindicated moral virtue, now supported the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span> -cause of <i>piety</i>, and of <i>protestantism</i>, with -equal success. They overturned all the prophaneness, -and all the philosophy of <i>Atheism</i>, -from its foundations: and, with resistless argument, -baffled the presumption, and beat -down the sophistry, of the church of Rome. -Yet these matchless servants of truth were -charged by some, with indiscretion in bringing -to light all the horrors of atheistic impiety, -though in order to expose them; and with -preposterous zeal, in directing all their efforts -against Popery, though it wore, at that time, -so malignant an aspect on all our dearest interests.</p> - -<p>They were not, however, diverted by these -clamours from pursuing their honest purposes: -and we owe it to them, in a great measure, -that these two systems of iniquity, I mean, -Atheism, and Popery, are no longer in repute -among us.</p> - -<p>3. Still, the state of the times may be altered, -without being much improved. For, though -few will avow direct Atheism, and not many, -I hope, are proselyted to Popery, yet the -number of those is not small, who are but -Protestants, in name; and scarce Deists, in -reality. Many profess, or secretly entertain, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span> -a disbelief of all revealed Religion; and many -more take unwarrantable liberties with the -Christian faith, though they pretend to respect -it. At the same time, as extremes beget each -other, there are those who seem relapsing into -the old exploded fanaticism of the last age; -from a false zeal, it may be, to counteract -the ill impression of those other licentious -principles.</p> - -<p>Thus is the unbalanced mind of man always -shifting from one excess into another; and -rarely knows to sustain itself in that just <i>mean</i>, -which pure religion and right reason demand. -Wonder not therefore, that our cares are still -suited to the exigencies of our hearers; and -that we labour to supply them with that provision -of sacred truth, which they most want; -that we strive to excite in them awful ideas -of God’s moral government; are <i>instant in -season and out of season</i> to assert the utility, -the importance, the necessity of divine revelation; -and are anxious to maintain the prerogatives -of Christian faith, yet without depreciating -the moral Law, or infringing the rights -of natural reason: that we admonish you to -think soberly, to inquire modestly, and to -believe what the word of God expressly teaches, -though ye do not, and can not, many times, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span> -comprehend the height and depth of divine -wisdom: that we remember, in short, what is -required of Stewards, who are appointed to -dispense the treasures of Christian knowledge, -and to superintend the <i>household</i> of God.</p> - -<p>I have now gone through the several topics, -which our Lord’s parable of the <i>Householder</i> -seemed naturally to suggest to me: not so -much with a view to make our own apology -(for if we do not our duty, we deserve, and if -we do, we want, none) as to set before you a -just idea of our office and ministry, that so ye -may judge rightly and equitably of us, for -your own sakes. For it is not indifferent to -the <i>household</i>, what opinion is entertained of -the <i>Householder</i>. Many will not suffer him -to <i>relieve</i> their wants, or perhaps acknowledge -they <i>have</i> any <i>wants</i> to be relieved, if they do -not conceive with some respect of his discretion, -at least, and good-will.</p> - -<p>And though, in the discharge of our duty to -all, we may seem to neglect many, and may -even dissatisfy, nay offend some; yet, on reflexion, -you will see that we are not wanting -to our trust—if we always endeavour to dispense -<i>salutary</i> doctrines—if, especially, we dispense -<i>such</i> as the apparent and urgent necessities of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span> -men call for—and, above all, if we be ready -to dispense <i>all</i> our treasures, <i>new</i> and <i>old</i>, -when the more alarming distresses of the -Christian church require, on occasion, our best -attention and liberality.</p> - -<p>To conclude: We respect your good opinion; -nay, perhaps, are too solicitous to obtain it. -But we would, or we should, in the first place, -please him, who hath called us to <i>serve</i>, and -expects us to be <i>faithful, in all his house</i><a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">7</a>. -For we presume to be something more than -Orators, or Philosophers, plausible and artificial -discoursers, who have nothing in view -but their own credit, and are eloquent or ingenious, -that is, <i>vain</i>, by profession. We -have a character to sustain of greater dignity, -but less ostentation. <i>For</i> <small>WE</small> <i>preach not ourselves, -but Christ Jesus our Lord; and ourselves, -your servants for Jesus sake<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">8</a>.</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_II">SERMON II.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 8, 1767.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> x. 15.</h3> - -<p><i>I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I say.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Though</span> St. Paul said this to the Corinthians, -on a particular occasion, in reference -to a single argument he was then prosecuting, -and possibly not without an intended sarcasm -on those whom he here qualifies with the name -of <i>Wise men</i>, yet the words themselves express -the Apostle’s <i>own constant practice</i>; and what -is more, they express the <i>general spirit and -genius</i> of that Religion, which he was commissioned -to teach. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span></p> - -<p>For the Christian Religion, divine as it is in -its origin, sublime in its precepts, and profound -in its mysteries, yet condescends to apply itself -to the rational faculties of mankind; and, secure -in its own native truth and evidence, -challenges the wise and learned to <i>judge</i> of its -pretentions.</p> - -<p>So that we may regard the declaration of the -text, as a standing precept to the Ministers of -the word, <i>to speak as to wise men</i>; and to the -hearers of it, to use their best faculties, <i>in -judging of what they say</i>.</p> - -<p>These then shall be the <i>two parts</i> of my discourse -upon it. <i>Each</i> will suggest some important -reflexions to the persons respectively -concerned; to <small>US</small>, who preach the word, and -to <small>YOU</small>, who hear it.</p> - -<p>I. The Religion of Jesus was designed for -the instruction of all sorts and degrees of men. -Nay, it is even alledged as one mark of its -divinity by Jesus himself, that not only the -rich and wise, but the <i>poor</i> and simple, <i>have -the Gospel preached unto them</i><a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">9</a>. And from -the different reception of it, at first, by these -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span> -two sets of men, we may perhaps see which of -them deserved it most. But be this as it will, -the Christian Religion was destined for the use -of all mankind. Its saving truths are to be made -known to all: yet with some difference in the -<i>mode</i> of teaching them, according to the capacities -of those to whom they are addressed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">To plain and illiterate men</span>, who have -no prejudices to counteract the virtue of God’s -word, and no pride of reason or science to question -its authority, the true and proper way is, -no doubt, to represent the great truths of the -Gospel, simply and clearly, accompanied with -its more general and obvious proofs, and enforced -upon them with all the earnestness of -exhortation. These <i>proofs</i>, and this <i>exhortation</i>, -carry such light and force in them, as -may be reasonably expected to have an effect -upon all men: yet to the <small>WISE</small>, who are -prompted by their curiosity, to habits of inquiry, -to <i>ask a reason of the hope that is in -us</i><a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">10</a>, and who are qualified by their parts and -studies to <i>judge</i> of such reason, we are instructed -to address a more elaborate <i>answer</i>, or -apology. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span></p> - -<p>The question then will be, <span class="smcap">On what principles -such Apology must be formed?</span> A -question the more important, because the apologies -of all times have been too generally constructed -on false and pernicious principles; on -<i>such</i> as cannot support, but rather tend to -weaken and disgrace, the very cause they would -defend.</p> - -<p>Such were the apologies, many times, of the -<i>ancient Christians</i>, who would incorporate -with the divine religion of Jesus the vain -doctrines of the Gentile philosophy: and such -have been too often the more <i>modern apologies</i>, -which debase the word of God, and corrupt -it, with the dreams of our presumptuous -metaphysics.</p> - -<p>Our Religion has suffered much in both these -ways: not, that reason or philosophy of any -kind, truly so called, can dis-serve the cause of -a <i>divine</i> Religion; but that we reason and -philosophize <i>falsely</i>, or <i>perversely</i>; that is, -we apply falshood to truth; or, we misapply -truth itself, in subjecting the incomprehensible -mysteries of our faith to the scrutiny and minute -discussion of our best reason. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span></p> - -<p>From these miscarriages, we are admonished -what to <i>avoid</i>: the example of the Apostle -Paul, who <i>spake as to wise men</i>, may instruct -us in the right way of <i>prosecuting</i> the defence -of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>From <i>him</i>, then, we learn to frame our answers -and apologies to inquisitive men, on the -great established truths of natural and revealed -Religion; to assert the expediency of divine -Revelation, from the acknowledged weakness -and corruption of human nature, and from the -moral attributes of the Deity; to illustrate the -œconomy of God’s dispensations to mankind -by arguments taken from that œconomy itself: -to reason with <i>reverence</i><a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> on the nature of -those dispensations, to shew what their general -scope and purpose is, how perfect an agreement -there is between them, and how divinely they -are made to depend on each other.</p> - -<p>In doing this, we shall find room for the -exercise of our best and most approved reason: -we shall look far ourselves, (and be able to let -others) into the harmony of the divine councils, -as they are set before us in the inspired -volumes: and, though we may not penetrate -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span> -all the depths and obscurities of those councils, -yet, as in contemplating the <small>WORKS</small> of God, -which we know but in part, we can demonstrate -his <i>eternal power and Godhead</i>, so, in -studying his <small>WORD</small>, we shall see enough of his -unsearchable wisdom and goodness, <i>to put to -silence the ignorance of foolish</i>, and to satisfy -the inquiries of <i>wise</i>, men.</p> - -<p>I say, <i>to satisfy the inquiries of wise men</i>: -for <i>wise men</i> do not expect to have all difficulties -in a divine system cleared up, and every -minute question, which may be raised about it, -answered (for <i>this</i>, God himself, the author -and finisher of it, can only perform, and much -<i>less</i> than this is abundantly sufficient for our -purpose); but all they desire is to see the several -parts of it so far cleared up, and made consistent -with each other, and, upon the whole, -to discover such evident marks of a superior -wisdom, power, and goodness in the frame and -texture of it, as may convince them that it is -truly divine, and worthy of the Supreme Mind -to whom we ascribe it.</p> - -<p>When we speak <i>thus</i> as to <i>wise men</i>, we do -all that <i>wise men</i> can require of us: if others -be still unsatisfied, the fault is in themselves; -they are <i>curious</i>, but not wise. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span></p> - -<p>I lay the greater stress on this mode of defending -the Christian Religion from <i>itself</i>, -that is, by arguments taken from its own nature -and essence, because it shortens the dispute -with inquirers, and secures the honour of -that Religion, we undertake to defend.</p> - -<p>First, <i>It shortens the dispute with Inquirers</i>, -by cutting off the consideration of all those -objections which men raise out of their own -imaginations. The defender of Christianity -is not concerned to obviate every idle fancy, -that floats in the head of a visionary objector. -Men have not the making of their Religion, -but must take it for such as the Scriptures represent -it to be. And if we defend it on the -footing of such representation, we do all that -can be reasonably required of us. It is nothing -to the purpose what men may imagine -to themselves concerning the marks and characters -of a divine Revelation: it is enough, -that there are <i>such marks and characters</i> in -the Religion of Jesus (whether more or fewer, -whether the same or other, than we might -previously have expected, is of no moment) as -shew it, in all reasonable construction, to be -<i>divine</i>. And thus our labour with Inquirers -is much abridged, while all foreign and impertinent -questions are rejected and laid aside. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span></p> - -<p>Next, this <i>mode</i> of defence <i>secures the honour -of that religion, we undertake to support</i>. -For, if we fail in our endeavours to unfold -some parts of the <i>Christian system</i>, we are but -in the condition of those, who would experimentally -investigate and clear up some difficulties -in <i>the system of nature</i>. Want of -care, or diligence, or sagacity, may subject -both the Divine and the Philosopher to some -mistakes: but either system is the same still, -and lies open to the pains and attention of -more successful inquirers. Nobody concludes -that the system of nature is not divine, because -this or that Philosopher has been led by hasty -experiments to misconceive of it. And nobody -<i>should</i> conclude otherwise of the Christian -system, though the Divine should err as much -in his scriptural comments and explications. -Whereas, when we attempt to vindicate Christianity -on principles not clearly contained in -the word of God, we act like those who form -physical theories on principles which have no -foundation in <i>fact</i>. The consequence is, That -not only the labour of <i>each</i> is lost, but the -system itself, which each would recommend, -being hastily taken for what it is unskilfully -represented to be, is vilified and disgraced. -For thus the <i>Christian system</i> has in fact been -reviled by such as have seen, or <i>would</i> only -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span> -see it, through the false medium of Popish or -Calvinistical ideas: and thus the <i>system of -nature itself</i> hath, it is said, been blasphemed -by <small>ONE</small><a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">12</a>, who judged of it from the intricacies -of a certain astronomical hypothesis. The remedy -for this evil, is, to solve scriptural difficulties -by scriptural principles, and to account -for natural appearances by experimental observations: -and then, though the application -of each may be mistaken, the system remains -inviolate, and the honour both of God’s <span class="smcap">Word</span> -and <span class="smcap">Works</span> is secured.</p> - -<p>And let thus much suffice, at present, for -the duty <i>of him, who speaketh as to wise -men</i>. Much more indeed is required to the -<i>integrity</i>, and still more to the <i>success</i>, of his -defence. But he that <i>speaketh, as the oracles -of God</i>, that is, who defends a divine Religion -on its own divine principles, does that which -is most essential to his office; and eminently -discharges the part of a <i>wise speaker</i>, since he -plans his <i>defence</i> in the best manner. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span></p> - -<p>II. It now remains to consider the other -part of the text, which challenges <i>the wise -men</i>, to whom the Apostle <i>spake</i>, to <small>JUDGE</small> of -what he said to them.</p> - -<p>From the time, this <i>challenge</i> was given by -the learned Apostle, there never have been -wanting <i>wise men</i>, disposed and forward to -accept it. And thus far, all was well: for they -had a right to exercise this office of <i>judging -for themselves</i>, if they were, indeed, capable -of it. But have they considered, to what that -<i>capacity</i> amounts? and that much more is required -to make a good <small>JUDGE</small>, than a good -<small>SPEAKER</small>?</p> - -<p>Let us briefly <i>examine</i> then the pretentions -of those, who have at all times been so ready -to sit in judgement on the Advocates for Religion, -by the known qualities of a capable -Judge: which, I think, are <i>Knowledge</i>, <i>Patience</i>, -<i>Impartiality</i>, <i>Integrity</i>, under which -last name I include <i>Courage</i>.</p> - -<p>1. The first requisite in a Judge, is a competent -<i>knowledge</i> in the subject of which he -judges, without which his other qualities, how -respectable soever, are rendered useless. Nor -is this knowledge, in the present case, inconsiderable. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span> -For, to say nothing of <i>sacred and -prophane Antiquity</i>, to say nothing of the -<i>Sciences</i>, and above all, the science of <i>Ethics</i>, -in its largest extent, the <i>Judge</i> of religious -controversy must be well versed, because the -<i>Advocate</i> is required to be <i>supremely</i> so, in -the great <i>principles and doctrines</i> of natural -and revealed Religion. To decide on <i>the -merits of Christianity</i>, without this knowledge, -would be as absurd, as to decide on <i>the merits -of the English jurisprudence</i>, without an acquaintance -with the <i>common law</i>, and the -<i>Statute-book</i>.</p> - -<p>2. The next quality, required in a Judge, -is <i>Patience</i>; or a deliberate unwearied attention -to the arguments and representations of the -Advocate, pleading before him. This attention -is more especially expected, when the -subject in debate is important, when it is, besides, -intricate, and when the Advocate is able.</p> - -<p>But these circumstances all concur, in the -case before us. If the question concerning the -truth and authority of Revelation be a cause of -any moment at all, it is confessedly of the -greatest: Again, if the scheme of Revelation -<i>be</i>, as it pretends to be, <i>divine</i>, it must require -the best application of our best faculties -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span> -to comprehend it; and, lastly, as the ablest -men of all times, of every profession and denomination, -have appeared in its defence, such -advocates may demand to be heared with all -possible attention. For the Judge of such a -cause, then, to confide in his own first thoughts, -to listen negligently and impatiently, and to -precipitate his determination, must be altogether -unworthy the character he assumes.</p> - -<p>3. It is expected of a Judge that he be -strictly <i>impartial</i>; that he come to the trial -of a cause without any previous bias on his -mind, or any passionate and prevailing prejudices, -in regard either to persons or things, -which may indispose him to see the truth, or -to respect it. And this turn of mind, so conducive -to a right determination in all cases, is -the more necessary here, where so many secret -prejudices are apt, without great care, to steal -in and corrupt the judgement.</p> - -<p>4. The last quality, which men require in a -Judge, is an inflexible <i>Integrity</i>: such as may -infuse the virtue and the courage to give his -judgement according to his impartial sense of -things, without any regard to the consequences, -in which it may involve him. This constancy -of mind may be put to no easy trial in the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span> -present case; when the Judge’s determination -may perhaps interest his whole future conduct; -and when the censure, the scorn, and the displeasure -of numbers, and possibly of those -whom he has hitherto most considered and -esteemed, may be incurred by such determination.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">These</span> are the great essential qualities which -we look for in a <span class="smcap">Judge</span>, and which cannot be -dispensed with in a Judge of <i>Religion</i>. How -far all, or any of these qualities are to be found -in those, who take to themselves this office, I -have neither time, nor inclination, to consider. -For my purpose is not to disparage those who -have exercised the right of judging for themselves -in the great affair of Religion, nor to -discourage any man from doing himself this -justice: but simply to represent the difficulties, -that lie in our way, and the qualifications we -must possess, if we would <i>judge a righteous -judgement</i>.</p> - -<p>I leave it to yourselves, therefore, to apply -these observations, as ye think fit. Ye will -conclude, however, that to <i>judge</i> of the pretentions -of your religion is no such easy task, -as that any man, without <i>parts</i>, without <i>knowledge</i>, -without <i>industry</i>, and without <i>virtue</i>, -may presume to undertake it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span></p> - -<p>The sum of all I have said is, then, this. -The Apostle, when he became an Advocate for -the Gospel, condescended <i>to speak</i>, and it must -therefore be more especially the duty of its -uninspired advocates to <i>speak as to wise men</i>; -that is, to employ in its defence the powers -of reason and wisdom, of which they are capable. -But it will be remembered, too, that -much, nay <i>more</i>, is required of the <span class="smcap">Judges</span> of -it; and that they must approve themselves, not -only <i>wise</i>, but, in every <i>moral</i> sense, excellent -men, before they are qualified to pass a -final judgement on what such Advocates have -to <i>say</i> on so momentous a cause, as that of the -<span class="smcap">Christian Religion</span>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_III">SERMON III.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 17, 1767.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> ii. 14, 15.</h3> - -<p><i>When the Gentiles, which have not the Law</i>, -<small>DO</small> <i>by Nature the things contained in the -Law, these, having not the Law, are a -Law unto themselves: which shew the work -of the Law written in their hearts, their</i> -<small>CONSCIENCE</small> <i>also bearing witness, and their -thoughts in the mean while</i> <small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or -else</i> <small>EXCUSING</small> <i>one another</i>.</p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> scope of this chapter being to assert, -that the Gentile, as well as Jew, had a right -to be admitted into the Christian church, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span> -that he was equally entitled to share in the -blessings of it, the Apostle grounds his argument -upon this Principle, “That, in the final -judgement, there would be no respect of -persons with God; but that Gentiles, as well -as Jews, would be recompensed in that day, -if not in the same degree, yet by the same -rule of proportion, that is, according to their -works.”</p> - -<p>Whence it would follow, that, if this equal -measure was to be dealt to <i>both</i>, in the <i>future -judgement</i>, it could not seem strange if <i>both</i> -were to be admitted to the <i>present benefits and -privileges</i> of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>But to keep off a conclusion so uneasy to his -inveterate prejudices, the Jew would object to -this reasoning, “That the Apostle’s assumption -must be false; for that as God had given -the Heathens no Law, they were not accountable -to him: that, as there could be -no room for Punishment, where no Law forbade, -so there could be no claim to Reward, -where no Law enjoined: and consequently, -that the Heathen world, being left without -Law, had no concern in a future recompence, -at all.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span></p> - -<p>This suggestion the Apostle obviates, by -shewing the inconsequence of it. His answer -is to this effect. You, says he, conclude, that -the Heathens are not accountable, because they -have no Law. But it no way follows, because -they had no Law extraordinarily revealed to -them from Heaven, that therefore the Heathens -had no Law, or Rule of life, at all. For these, -<i>having no</i> such <i>Law</i>, were a <i>Law unto themselves</i>; -that is, their natural reason and understanding -was their Law.</p> - -<p>And, for the real existence of such natural -Law, he appeals to the virtuous <small>ACTIONS</small> of some -Heathens, <i>who</i> <small>DO</small> <i>by nature the things contained -in the Law</i>; who, besides, as it follows -in the next verse, <i>shew the work of the Law -written in their hearts, their consciences also -bearing witness, and their thoughts in the -mean while accusing or else excusing one -another</i>. In which last words are contained -two additional arguments in proof of the same -point; the <i>first</i>, taken from their own <small>CONSCIOUSNESS</small> -of such a Law; and the <i>second, -from their reasonings between one another</i>, -<small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or else</i> <small>EXCUSING</small>: for this is the -strict sense and literal construction of those -words in the original, which we improperly -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span> -translate—<i>their thoughts in the mean while -accusing or else excusing one another</i><a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">13</a>.</p> - -<p>So that in the verses of the Text we have a -<small>PROPOSITION</small> asserted; and <small>THREE</small> distinct arguments -brought in proof of it. The proposition -is, <i>that the Heathen are a Law unto -themselves</i>, or, as it is otherwise expressed, -<i>have a Law written in their hearts</i>. The arguments -in proof of it are, 1. The virtuous -lives of some heathen, <i>doing by nature the -work of the Law</i>: 2. The force of <i>conscience</i>, -testifying their knowledge of such Law: and, -3. lastly, their <i>private and judicial reasonings</i> -among themselves, referring to the confessed -authority of it.</p> - -<p>In conformity to this method of the Apostle, -my business will be to open and explain the -several arguments in the order, in which they -lie; and to confirm, by that means, the truth -of his general Proposition, <i>That there is a -natural Law, or Rule of moral action, written -in the hearts of men</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span></p> - -<p>I. The argument from the virtues of the -heathen world, in proof of a Law of nature, -<i>written in the hearts of men</i>, will seem strange -to some, who may object, “That, if the appeal -be to <i>action</i>, it may with greater reason -be inferred, there was not any such law; since -the crimes and vices of the heathen world, as -terribly set forth by St. Paul himself in the -preceding chapter, were far more notorious, -than its Virtues. So that if there be any force -in St. Paul’s appeal to the virtuous lives of -some heathen, as evincing a Law, <i>written in -their hearts</i>, because their practice was governed -by it; the like appeal to the vicious -lives of many more heathen, should seem with -still more force to prove the non-existence of -such Law, in as much as it did <i>not</i> govern -their practice.” But the answer is obvious. -For a law may be in part, or even totally, -violated by persons under a full conviction of -its existence and obligation: whereas it is hard -to imagine, that any number of men, of different -times, in distant places, and under different -circumstances of age, temper, and education, -should exhibit in their lives the same -tenour of action, without the guidance of some -fixed and common Rule.</p> - -<p>This then being observed, let us turn our -eyes upon the heathen world; on that part, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span> -more especially, which is best known to us -from the authentic monuments of Greek and -Roman story. For <i>bad</i> as that world was, it -cannot be denied to have furnished many instances -of extraordinary virtue. We find there -<i>justice</i>, <i>temperance</i>, <i>fortitude</i>, and all those -virtues, which their own Moralists called <i>Offices</i>, -and which the sacred page has dignified with -the name of <i>Graces</i>, exhibited in their fairest -forms, and emulating, as it were, even Christian -perfection<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">14</a>.</p> - -<p>But it will be said of <i>both</i> these people, what -was long since objected by one of them to the -other, that their actions were not so illustrious, -as is pretended; that we take the accounts of -them from their own interested relaters, to -whose vanity or genius we are rather to impute -the fine portraits, they have given us, of -pagan virtue, than to real fact and the undisguised -truth of things<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">15</a>.</p> - -<p>Be this allowed. Still there will be ground -enough to enforce the Apostle’s conclusion. For -whence, if not from the source to which he -points, could be derived those numerous corresponding -instances, though of faint, unfinished -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span> -Virtue? how, but by <i>nature, did the -heathen</i>, in any degree, <i>the things of the Law</i>? -and whence, the traces of that conduct in -the pagan world, which the Law itself prescribed -as <i>virtuous</i>?</p> - -<p>Or, were the evidence from <i>facts</i> ever so -suspicious, whence those admired portraits and -pictures themselves? or, by what accountable -means has it come to pass, that their historians -and panegyrists have been able to feign so successfully? -In truth, had the pagan world afforded -no <i>one</i> instance of a virtuous people, I -had almost said, no <i>one</i> instance of a virtuous -character, yet would the projected form of such -a people, by one hand<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">16</a>, and the delineation of -such a character, by another<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">17</a>, have been a certain -evidence of some Rule of life and manners, -<i>written in the heart</i>, if not transcribed into -practice; influencing the judgement to approve, -if not the will to obey it. But this consideration, -perhaps, comes more naturally under the -second head of the Apostle’s reasoning, which -is drawn,</p> - -<p>II. <i>From the force of conscience in the heathen -world.</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span></p> - -<p>To perceive the force of this argument, it -must be remembered, That, by conscience, is -only meant <i>a man’s judgement concerning the -quality of his own actions</i>; which judgement, -however come at, whether by use, or institution, -by reason, or instinct, equally supposes -some <i>Law</i>, or Rule of conduct, by which the -nature of each action is tried, and by which its -worth is estimated. Now it is of no moment -in the present case, from which soever of these -sources that judgement is <i>immediately</i> drawn, -since it cannot but be, that some fixed principle, -common to human nature, and of equal -extent with it, must have originally given birth -to such judgement. For if <i>use</i>, or <i>institution</i>, -be considered as the probable source of it, the -question will recur, whence that Use, or what -the original of that Institution? A question, -which cannot be resolved, unless we conceive -some <i>natural law</i>, as working at the root, -and branching out, as it were, into <i>Use</i>, or -<i>Institution</i>.</p> - -<p>Nor is it sufficient to say, <i>That the manners -of different people are, and have been, widely -different; and that conscience, or self-judgement, -according as different notions or practices -prevail, condemns, or approves the very -same action</i>. Without doubt, it does; but the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span> -consequence is not, as some sceptical writers -have imagined, that there is no common principle -of nature, distinguishing between right -and wrong, or that moral action is of absolute -indifference; but that men are, and have been, -careless and corrupt; that they have either not -used the light of nature, or have some way -abused it. For it holds of <i>Sentiment</i>, as of <i>Action</i>, -that, though the agreement of numbers -in all times and places be a good argument <i>for</i> -the existence of some common rule of right, as -effecting such agreement (because otherwise -no tolerable account can be given of it); yet -the disagreement even of greater numbers is no -proof <i>against</i> the existence of such Rule, as -we can, without that supposition, give a satisfactory -account <i>of</i> that disagreement. I call -it <i>a satisfactory account</i>; for it comes from -St. Paul himself, who has taken care to obviate -this plausible objection. If it be said then, -<i>That the Heathen approved bad, and condemned -good actions</i>, we own they sometimes -did, but answer with the Apostle, That, in -such cases, <i>they became vain in their imaginations</i>, -and that <i>their foolish heart was -darkened</i>; that, as they <i>did not search to retain -God in their knowledge</i>, did not exert -their faculties to acquire or preserve a right -sense of God’s nature and will, <i>he gave them</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> -<i>up to an unsearching mind</i>, suffered them to -darken and put out the light of their understandings, -and so to <i>do</i> [and to <i>approve</i>] -<i>things that were not convenient</i><a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">18</a>.</p> - -<p>This being the true account of the diversity -of human judgement, such diversity only proves -that the light of nature has been misused, not, -that it was never given. Whereas, on the -other hand, if the Heathen world can shew us, -in general, a conformity of judgement in moral -matters, under their state of nature, with that -of the world, under the light of Revelation, -what follows, but that they, <i>having not the -Law, shew the work of the Law written in -their hearts</i>?</p> - -<p>But now that there was, in fact, such a -conformity, we conclude from <i>the accounts of -these times, the sense of writers, and the -confessions of persons themselves</i>: the only -means, by which a point of this nature can be -established. The pagan historians and moralists -are full of such lessons, as we now profit -by: and even their poets, on the stage itself -(where <i>common</i> nature is drawn for the sake of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span> -<i>common</i> instruction) represent their characters, -for the most part, as <i>good</i> or <i>bad</i>, according to -the ideas we should now entertain of them. In -writers of all sorts, we find abundant evidence -of this truth. Numberless persons are upon -record, who confess, in their own cases, and -attest, this uniform power of conscience. -They applaud themselves for, what <i>we</i> should -call, <i>a well-spent life</i>, and they condemn -themselves for, what <i>we</i> call, <i>a bad one</i>. To -touch on a topic so known as this, is, in effect, -to exhaust it. I shall then but just point to -the great <i>Roman patriot</i><a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> exulting in the memory -of his <i>Virtues</i>: and to the <i>Roman governour</i><a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">20</a>, -so famous in sacred writ, whom the -preaching of Paul, in concurrence with his -own heart, made tremble for his <i>Vices</i>.</p> - -<p>III. But if men did not feel the power of -conscience operating within themselves, and -declaring <i>a Law written in their hearts</i>, yet -their daily conduct towards each other, in the -civil concerns of life, would evidently proclaim -it. For observe how studious men are to repel -an injurious imputation, fastened on a friend; -and still more, how they labour to assert their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span> -own innocence. What pains do we see taken, -to overthrow a <i>false</i> evidence, and what colours -of art do we see employed to palliate or -disguise a <i>true</i> one! No man needs be told -that this is the constant practice of Christians: -and <i>did not the Heathens the same</i>? Here -then is a fresh proof of the point in question; -an argument of familiar evidence arising from -the transactions of common life. For, in the -altercations with each other, in reference to -<i>right</i> and <i>wrong</i>, there is manifestly supposed -some prior Law of universal reason, to which -the appeal on both sides is directed, and by -which the decision is finally to be made. And -this, as the Apostle’s argument suggests, whichever -of the contending parties be in the <i>wrong</i>: -For the charging another with <i>wrong</i> conduct, -equally implies a Rule, determining my judgement -of moral action; as the defending myself -or others from such a charge, evinces my -sense of it. Thus, whether I <i>accuse</i>, or <i>answer -for myself</i>, either way, I shew <i>a law written -in my heart</i>; whence I estimate the <i>right</i> or -<i>wrong</i> of the supposed question. Thus much -might be inferred from the ordinary topics of -<i>conversation</i>: but the case is still clearer, -when they come to be debated <i>in courts of -Justice</i>. More especially, therefore, the struggles -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span> -and contentions of the <i>Bar</i> (for the terms, -employed in the text, being <i>forensic</i>, direct -us chiefly to that interpretation), a series of -civil and judiciary pleadings, such as have been -preserved to us, from heathen times, in the -writings of a Demosthenes, or Cicero, are a -standing, unanswerable argument for the existence -of a <i>Rule of Right</i>, or <i>Law of natural -reason</i>. For how should these debates be carried -on without a Rule, to which the advocates -of either party refer? or how should these -judicial differences be composed, without a -common Law, to arbitrate between them? -And what though the Law, referred to, be a -<i>written institute</i>: it was first <i>written in the -heart</i>, before legislators transcribed it on brass, -or paper.</p> - -<p>You see then, the sum of the Apostle’s -reasoning stands thus. The Heathens, who -had no revealed Law, <small>DID</small> <i>by nature, the -things of the Law</i>: their <small>JUDGEMENT</small>, too, of -their own actions, conformed to the judgement -of <i>the Law</i>: and, lastly, their <small>DEBATES</small> with -one another, whether public or private, concerning -<i>right</i> and <i>wrong</i>, evidenced their -sense of some Law, which <i>Nature</i> had prescribed -to them. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span></p> - -<p>And in this fine chain of argument, we may -observe the peculiar art, by which it is conducted, -and the advantage, resulting from such -conduct to the main conclusion. For if the -argument from <small>WORKS</small> should seem of less -weight (as it possibly might, after the Apostle’s -own charge upon the heathen world, and in -that age of heathen corruption) yet the evidence -arising from <small>CONSCIENCE</small>, which was an -appeal to every man’s own breast, could hardly -be resisted: or, if conscience could be laid -asleep (as it might be by vice and ill habits) it -was impossible they could deny the <small>DEBATES</small> -among themselves, or not see the inference -that must needs be drawn from them.</p> - -<p>It may, further, seem to have been with -some propriety that the sacred reasoner employed -these topics of argument, in an address -to <span class="smcap">Romans</span>: who could not but feel the weight -of them the more, as well knowing the ancient -<small>VIRTUE</small> of their country; as knowing too, that -the Roman people had been famous for their -nice sense of right and wrong, or, in other -words, a moral <small>CONSCIENCE</small>; and that, as -having been a free people, they had been -always accustomed to <small>DEBATES</small> about moral -action, public and private. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span></p> - -<p>Such is the force, and such the elegant disposition -and address, of the Apostle’s reasoning. -The conclusion follows irresistibly, <i>That there -is a Law written in our hearts, or that, besides -a Revealed Law, there is a law of natural -reason</i>.</p> - -<p>That this conclusion is not injurious to <i>revealed -Law</i>, but indeed most friendly and -propitious to it; that, in particular, it no way -derogates from the honour of the <i>Christian -Law</i>, nor can serve in any degree to lessen the -value, or supersede the use and necessity of it; -I shall attempt to shew in another discourse. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_IV">SERMON IV.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 24, 1767.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Gal.</span> iii. 19.</h3> - -<p><i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">When</span> the Apostle Paul had proved, in -his Epistle to the<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">21</a>Romans, that if the <i>uncircumcision -kept the righteousness of the -Law, his uncircumcision would be accounted -for circumcision</i>; that is, if the Gentile observed -the <i>moral law</i>, which was his proper -rule of life, he would be accepted of God, as -well as the Jew, who observed the <i>Mosaic -Law</i>; this generous reasoning gave offence, -and he was presently asked, <span class="smcap">What advantage -then hath the Jew</span><a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">22</a>? -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span></p> - -<p>In like manner, when the same Apostle had -been contending, in his Epistle to the Galatians, -that <i>the inheritance was not of the -Law, but of Promise</i><a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">23</a>; that is, that all men, -the Gentiles as well as the Jews, were entitled -to the blessings of the Christian covenant, in -virtue of God’s <i>promise</i> to Abraham—<i>that in -his seed all the nations of the earth shall be -blessed</i>—and not the Jews exclusively, in -virtue of the <i>Mosaic Law</i>, given to them only; -the same spirit discovers itself, as before, and -he is again interrogated by his captious disciples, -<span class="smcap">Wherefore then serveth the Law?</span> -if the Gentiles may be justified <i>through faith -in Christ</i>, and so inherit the promise made to -Abraham, as well as the Jews, to what purpose -was the Jewish Law then given?</p> - -<p>And to these questions, how unreasonable -soever, the learned Apostle has himself condescended -to give an answer.</p> - -<p>Now, the same perverseness, which gave -birth to these Jewish prejudices, seems to have -operated in some Christians; who, on being -told, and even by St. Paul himself, of <i>a Law -of Nature</i>, by which the Heathen were required -to govern their lives, and by the observance -of which, without their knowledge of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span> -any revealed Law, they would be finally accepted, -have been forward in their turn, to -ask, <span class="smcap">Wherefore then serveth the Law?</span> -Or, if there be a <i>natural Law</i>, according to -which the very Heathen will be judged, and -may be rewarded, what are the boasted privileges -of <i>Revealed Law</i>, and, in particular, -the revealed Law <i>of the Gospel</i>?</p> - -<p>Now to this question (having, in my last -discourse, asserted the proposition, which gives -occasion to it) I shall reply, in the best manner -I can, by shewing,</p> - -<p>I. That the supposition of a <i>natural moral -Law</i> is even necessary to the support of <span class="smcap">Revelation</span>: -And</p> - -<p>II. That this supposition no way derogates -from the honour of the <span class="smcap">Gospel</span>.</p> - -<p>I. <i>That a natural moral Law is required -to support the authority of Revelation</i>, I conclude, -not merely, <i>because</i> this supposition is -actually made in sacred Scripture, <i>because</i> the -sacred writers argue expressly from it, and -every-where refer to it, but principally and -chiefly, <i>because</i>, without admitting this prior -Law of nature, we cannot judge of any pretended -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span> -Revelation, whether it be divine or no. -For, if there be no such moral Law, previously -given, which our hearts and consciences approve, -and to which our common nature assents, -we can never see the fitness of any means, -as conducive to <i>a moral end</i>; we can entertain -no just and clear notions of <i>moral action</i>, -properly so called; and consequently, we can -have no ideas of what are called <i>the moral attributes</i> -of God. Now, in this state of ignorance -and uncertainty, how shall any man -go about to prove to us the divinity of any Revelation, -or through what medium can its -truth or authenticity be established? We have -no Rule, no principles, by which to judge of -the Law, pretending to come from God: we -cannot tell, whether it be worthy of him, or -not: we do not so much as know, what <i>worth</i> -or <i>goodness</i> is, either in ourselves, or in the -Deity. Thus all <i>internal arguments</i> for the -excellence of any Religion are at once cut off: -and yet till, from such considerations, we find -that a Religion <i>may</i> come from God, we cannot -reasonably conclude, on any evidence, that -it <i>does</i> come from him. The Religion of -Mahomet may, for any thing we can tell, if -there be no moral Law for us to judge by, be -as worthy of God, as that of Jesus. Nor will -any <i>external arguments</i>, even the most -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span> -unquestioned miracles, of themselves, be sufficient -to confirm its pretensions. For how -shall we know, that these miracles are from -God, unless we understand what his attributes -are, and whether the occasion, for which they -are wrought, be such as is consistent with -them?</p> - -<p>So that those zealous persons, who think -they do honour to the revealed will of God, by -denying him to have given prior natural Law, -do, indeed, defeat their own purpose, and put -it out of their power to judge of any Revelation -whatsoever. There is, then, a Law of Reason, -<i>written in the heart</i>, by which <i>every</i> Religion, -claiming to be divine, must be tried; or we -have no ground to stand upon in our endeavours -to support the credit and divinity of <i>any</i> -Religion.</p> - -<p>What is, then, so necessary to the support -of <i>Revelation</i>, in general, cannot, we may be -sure,</p> - -<p>II. <i>Any way derogate from the honour of -the Christian Revelation</i>, in particular.</p> - -<p>But, to put this matter out of all doubt, I -shall distinctly shew, that the supposition of a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span> -<i>natural moral Law</i> neither discredits the <small>USE</small>; -nor tends, in the least, to supersede the <small>NECESSITY</small>, -of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>And, 1. <span class="smcap">It does not discredit its use</span>.</p> - -<p>For, what, if all men be endowed with those -faculties, which, if properly employed, may -instruct us in the knowledge of God and ourselves, -and of the duties we, respectively, owe -to him and to each other? Is it nothing that -this knowledge is rendered more easy and familiar -to us by the lights of the Gospel? Is it -nothing, that those laws, which men of thought -and reflexion may deduce for themselves from -principles of natural reason, are openly declared -to all: that they are confirmed, illustrated, -and enforced by express revelation? Is it of -no moment, that the plainest and busiest men -are as fully instructed in their duty, as men of -science and leisure, the simplest as well as the -wisest, the mechanic and the sage, the rustic -and philosopher? Is it of no use, that men -are kept steady in their knowledge and observance -of the law of nature, by this pole-star of -revelation? that they are secured from error -and mistake, from the effects of their own -haste, or negligence, or infirmity, from the illusions -of custom or ill example, from the false -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> -lights of fanaticism or superstition, and from -the perverseness of their own reasonings? -Look into the history of mankind, and see -what horrid idolatries have overspread the -world, in spite of what <i>Nature</i> teaches concerning -God; and what portentous immoralities -have prevailed in the wisest nations, in defiance, -nay, <i>what is worse</i>, under the countenance -and sanction, of what was deemed <i>natural -Reason</i>.</p> - -<p>Add to all this, that the moral duties, we -thus easily and certainly know, and without -any danger of mistake or corruption, by means -of the evangelical Law, are enjoined by the -highest authority; are set off by the brightest -examples; are recommended to us by new arguments -and considerations; are pressed upon -us by the most engaging motives, higher and -more important than nature could suggest to -us; and, lastly, are sublimed and perfected by -the most consummate reason.</p> - -<p>Still we are not got to the end of our account. -Consider, further, our natural weakness, -strengthened and assisted by the influences -of divine Grace; the doubts and misgivings -of Nature, in the momentous points of -repentance and forgiveness of sin, cleared; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span> -the true end and destination of moral agents, -discovered; a future judgement, ascertained; -and the hopes of endless unspeakable glory, -which nature could at most but desire, and -had no reason (unless that desire be, itself, a -reason) to expect, unveiled and fully confirmed -to us.</p> - -<p>This, and still more, is but a faint sketch of -the advantages, which, even in point of morals, -we derive from revealed Law. Go now, -then, and say, that the light of nature, set up -in your own hearts, obscures the glory, or -<i>discredits the use</i>, of the everlasting Gospel!</p> - -<p>2. But it is a low, degrading, and unjust idea -of the <i>Gospel</i>, to regard it only, as a new code -of morals, though more complete in itself, -more solemnly enacted, and more efficaciously -enforced, than the prior one of <i>nature</i>. Were -the <i>use</i> of each the same, the honour of the -Christian revelation would not be impaired, because -its <small>NECESSITY IS NOT SUPERSEDED</small>.</p> - -<p>For Christianity, rightly understood, is -something, vastly above what Reason could discover -or procure for us. It confirms, incidentally, -the law of nature, and appeals to it; it -harmonizes, throughout, with that and every -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span> -other prior revelation of God’s will as it could -not but do, if it were indeed derived from the -same eternal source of light and truth. But, -for all that, it is no more a simple <i>re-publication</i> -of the natural, than of any other divine -Law. It is a new and distinct revelation, that -perfects and completes all the rest. It is the -consummation of one great providential scheme, -planned before the ages, and fully executed in -due time, for the redemption of mankind from -sin and death, through the mercies of God in -Christ Jesus.</p> - -<p>Now, in this view, which is that which -Christianity exhibits of its own purpose, the -scheme of the Gospel is not only of the most -transcendant <i>use</i>, as it confirms, elucidates, -and enforces the moral Law, but of the most -<small>ABSOLUTE NECESSITY</small>: I say, <i>of the most absolute -necessity</i>; in reference to the divine wisdom, -and to the condition of mankind, both -which, without doubt, if we could penetrate so -far, required this peculiar interposition of Heaven, -on principles of the highest reason, as well -as goodness. But the <i>necessity</i> is apparent even -to us, on the grounds of this very Revelation. -For its declared purpose was to rescue all men -from the power of <i>Death</i>, and to bestow upon -them immortal <i>life</i> in happiness. But, now, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span> -the same Gospel, that tells us this, tells us, -withal, that, <i>as in Adam all men died, so in</i> -<span class="smcap">Christ</span>, only, <i>shall all men be made alive</i>; -and that, <i>without the blood</i> of <span class="smcap">Christ</span>, <i>there -could be no remission</i> of the forfeiture incurred -by the transgression of Adam. You see, then, -that, to argue upon Gospel-principles (and the -fair inquirer can argue upon no other) the -Christian dispensation was <i>necessary</i> to fulfill -the purposes of God to man, and to effect that -which the divine councils had decreed in relation -to him.</p> - -<p>The consequence is, that though we admit a -Law of nature, and even suppose that Law to -have been a sufficient guide in <i>morals</i>, yet the -honour of Christianity is fully secured, as it’s -<i>necessity is not superseded</i> by the law of nature, -which had not <i>the promise of eternal life</i>, -and could not have it; such promise being reserved -to manifest and illustrate the grace of -God, through the Gospel.</p> - -<p>Reason may be astonished at this representation -of things, but finds nothing to oppose -to it. It looks up, in silent adoration, to that -supreme incomprehensible Power, which wills -that which is best, and orders all things with -the most perfect reason. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span></p> - -<p>Nor let it be any objection, that the Law of -Nature points to some just recompence of moral -agents, independently of the Christian Law. -Without doubt, it does; and, if the Gospel -had never been vouchsafed to man, the judge -of all the world would have done that which -was fit and right. But can reason, can our -own hearts, assure us, that the best of us could -stand the scrutiny of strict justice, or be entitled -to any recompense of <i>reward</i>? Or, if -our presumption answer this question in our -favour, have we the least pretence to that unspeakable -reward, solely made known and -promised in the Gospel, <i>of everlasting life</i>? -Or, if mere Heathens, who are to be judged -by their own Law, may be admitted to an -eternal inheritance of life and glory, are we sure -that this mercy (for mercy it is, and cannot be -of right) is not vouchsafed to them, through -Christ, though they may have been ignorant -of Him? or rather, are we not certain that it -must be so, since <i>eternal life</i>, on whomsoever -bestowed, <i>is the gift of God through Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">24</a>?</p> - -<p>What effect the Gospel-scheme of Redemption -through Christ may have on those who -lived of old under the Law of nature or any -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span> -other Law, or who since the coming of Christ -have continued in the same circumstances; it -becomes us with great caution to enquire, because -the Scriptures have not explicitly and -fully instructed us in that matter. But, from -certain expressions, occasionally dropped by -the sacred writers, such as—<i>that Christ died -for all<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">25</a>; that God was in Christ reconciling -the world to himself<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">26</a>—that Christ is the propitiation -for our sins, and not for ours only, -but also for the sins of the whole world</i><a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">27</a>; -from these, and other passages of the like nature, -we are authorised to conclude, that the -benefits of Christ’s death do extend, in <i>some -sense</i>, to all men: that, though each will be -judged by the Law he lived under, the issue of -that judgement will respect the death of Christ: -that their living again to receive the recompence -of the deeds done in the body, however -Nature might suggest this event, is, in fact, -brought about through <i>the redemption that is -in Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">28</a>: and that whatever recompence -they receive beyond what in strict justice is -due unto them, is to be placed entirely and -singly to his account. Such inferences, as -these, are apparently reasonable, and just: nor -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span> -do they prejudice, in any degree, the hope and -faith of a Christian: others may have an interest -in the blood of the cross; but our privilege -is to <i>know</i> that we have it. The advantages -flowing from this knowledge, are infinite. -And therefore good reason there is to -hold, with the Apostle, that, although <i>the -living God be the Saviour of all men</i>, yet is -he <i>specially so of those that believe</i><a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">29</a>.</p> - -<p>On the whole, then, if men will be putting -such a question to us, as that of the text, -<i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i> to what -end was the <i>Christian Law</i> given, if there be -a prior Law of Nature, to which men are responsible, -and by which they will be judged? -We are now prepared to give them a satisfactory -answer.</p> - -<p>We say then, <i>first</i>, that the <i>Christian Law</i>, -to whatever ends <i>it serveth</i>, presupposes the -existence of a <i>prior natural Law</i>, by which -its pretensions must be tried, and, of course, -therefore, its honour is supported.</p> - -<p>But, <i>secondly</i>, and more directly, we answer, -that the supposition of such natural Law -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span> -no way diminishes <i>the honour of the Christian -Law</i>; for that it serves to many the most -important <small>MORAL USES</small>, over and above those -to which the Law of nature serves; and that, -further, it is of the most absolute <small>NECESSITY</small> -to the accomplishment of its own great purpose, -<i>the redemption of the world</i>, which the -Law of nature could not effect, and which the -divine wisdom ordained should only be effected -through Christ Jesus. <i>Lastly</i>, we reply, that -the benefits of the Gospel institution may, -must, in some measure, extend to all the sons -of Adam, as well as to those who are more -especially enlightened by the Christian faith: -that all mankind have an interest in the Gospel, -though we Christians are first and principally -indebted to it.</p> - -<p>To conclude, whatever Law, whether we -term it of <i>nature</i>, or <i>revelation</i>, has been -given to us, we should receive with all thankfulness -and reverence. But, more especially, -should we adore the riches of God’s grace in -the revealed Law of the Gospel, and in the -singular unspeakable mercies conveyed by it. -Far from envying the Heathen world the advantages -they receive from the Law of Reason, -under which they live; let us bless God for his -impartial over-flowing goodness to all men; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span> -let us even rejoice for the benefits treasured up -for them in a merciful dispensation of which, -at present, they unhappily know nothing; and -let us only acknowledge, with especial gratitude, -the higher blessings vouchsafed to us, -who are called to <i>serve God in the Gospel of -his Son</i><a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">30</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_V">SERMON V.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 1, 1768.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Heb.</span> ii. 3.</h3> - -<p><i>How shall we escape, if we neglect so great -Salvation?</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> Religion of Nature, is the Law of -God, speaking by the voice of Reason: the -Religion of the Gospel, is the Law of God, -speaking by the Revelation of Jesus. Each of -these Laws is deservedly called, <i>a great Salvation</i>: -the <i>former</i>, as the basis of all true Religion; -the <i>latter</i>, as the consummation of all -God’s religious dispensations to mankind.</p> - -<p>Concerning the different purpose and genius -of these Laws, I shall not now speak; at least, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span> -no farther, than is necessary to enforce the -Apostle’s pathetic question, <i>How shall we -escape, if we neglect so great Salvation</i>; if -we neglect to observe these Laws, respectively -given to promote man’s truest happiness?</p> - -<p>The world abounds in commentaries on the -Law of Nature, and on the Law of Christianity. -But the misfortune is, that most men regard the -study of these Laws, rather as an exercise of -the mind, in the way of curious speculation, -than as an interesting pursuit, which concerns -their moral and religious practice. Which is -just the same folly as would be charged on -those, who should spend their lives in studying -the municipal Laws of their country, with a -total unconcern about the observance of them -in their own persons.</p> - -<p>Indeed the penal sanctions, which attend -the violation of those Laws, would presently -reclaim the student from this folly, and remind -him of the <i>end</i>, to which his skill and -knowledge in them should be principally directed. -And if, in the study of general -morals, or of revealed religion, he neglect -to refer his speculation to practice, it is only -because their penalties are less instant, or less -constraining; and not that either the Law of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span> -Nature, or the Law of the Gospel, is without -its proper and suitable sanctions.</p> - -<p>I. These sanctions, as to the <i>Law of Nature</i>, -as little as they are sometimes considered, are -easily pointed out. For who, that grossly offends -against that Law, but is punished with -self-contempt; with an anxious dread of that -power, which inscribed the law on his heart, -and will, some way or other, secure the honour -of it; with a sensible diminution of his -health, or fortune, or reputation; sometimes, -with the decline of his parts and faculties; -with many uneasy and embarrassing, however -unforeseen, situations, into which his vices -lead him; with inevitable distresses, experienced -in his own person, perhaps entailed on -his posterity; in a word, sooner or later, with -a disgust of <i>this</i> life, and a trembling apprehension -of what may befall him in a <i>future</i>?</p> - -<p>By these penalties, is the <span class="smcap">Law of Nature</span> -enforced: and they are such, as must soon -convince a thinking man, indeed every man, -that his true interest lies in the observance of -that Law. At the same time, it must be -owned, that this Law is strict and severe: It -punishes with rigour, and rewards sparingly. -Disobedience is certain, often intense, misery; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span> -while the most punctual compliance with it -secures but a moderate enjoyment of this life, -and so much happiness in another (if indeed -<i>any</i> happiness can be hoped for) as in strict -justice may be required.</p> - -<p>Yet <i>this</i> is the Law, which many, it seems, -had rather live and dye under, than accept the -benefit of a far <small>BETTER</small>. For,</p> - -<p>II. It pleased God, in compassion to his -creature, man, not to leave him under this -Law; but, by <i>a special Revelation</i> of his will, -to confer those blessings upon him, which he -had no ground in reason to expect, and no -means in nature to obtain. Hence, <i>the free -gift of immortality</i>, on the condition of obeying -a certain precept, given to Adam. The -<i>gift</i> was immense, and the <i>condition</i> easy: -but, the <i>latter</i> not being observed, the <i>former</i> -was as justly forfeited, as it had been graciously -bestowed.</p> - -<p>Still, through the exhaustless mercy of the -supreme moral Governour, a way was found -out, by which unhappy man might be restored -to his lost inheritance. He returned again, -for the present, under the former yoke of Nature, -or, at best, was committed to the tuition -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span> -of a rigid <i>School-master</i> (for such St. Paul -styles the ritual Law of Moses); with some -<i>hopes</i>, indeed, of a better state, to which he -was one day to be advanced; but those, darkly -intimated, and imperfectly conceived. The -divine purpose, however, was to lead him, by -this wholesome discipline, to Christ, to the -religion of his Son; who, in due time, vindicated -the honour of God’s government, by -<i>fulfilling all righteousness</i>; expiated the foul -offence of man’s disobedience by his death -upon the cross; and reconveyed the inestimable -gift of immortal life in happiness, on the new -terms of <span class="smcap">faith in the divine Saviour</span>, by -whose ministry this great work was atchieved. -Thus, Jesus became a ransom for the sins of -mankind; appearing indeed in our nature at -that season which was pre-ordained, but <i>being -slain</i> (in the divine councils, and therefore the -benefit of his death operating) <i>from the foundations -of the world</i>.</p> - -<p>This is a brief account of that great redemption -in Christ Jesus, by which we are again -restored to those hopes, which had been forfeited -by Adam’s transgression. In consequence -of this dispensation, the reward of -obedience is <i>eternal Life</i>: not of debt, but -of grace, through faith in the Redeemer. But -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span> -this is not all. To facilitate and secure that -<i>obedience</i> (to which so immense a benefit is -now annexed) a perfect example of it is set -before us in the person of Christ himself; and -the holy Spirit is given to the faithful, to purify -their hearts and lives, <i>and to fill them with -all joy and peace in believing</i><a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">31</a>. On the -other hand, the penalty of <i>disobedience</i> (what -could it be less?) is a perpetual exclusion from -bliss and glory, with such a degree of positive -suffering, annexed, as the respective demerits -of incorrigible sinners, or the sanctity and -wisdom of the divine government, may demand.</p> - -<p>Add to all this, that the same scriptures, -which open to us the terms of this dispensation, -declare, likewise, that no other terms -will ever be offered; that we are <i>complete in -Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">32</a>; that all the divine councils, in regard -to man, are closed and shut up in <i>him</i>; -and that no further sacrifice remains for sin, -but that every man, henceforth, must stand or -fall by the terms of the everlasting Gospel.—<i>How -then shall we escape, if we neglect so -great Salvation?</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span></p> - -<p>III. Still, as I said, there are those, who -had rather trust to the Law of Nature, than the -Law of Grace; who had rather take their chance -of being saved by the rule of their own Reason, -than owe their Salvation to the methods prescribed -to them by the rule of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>Their pretences for this perverse choice, are -various: but the true reason, I suppose, is, -that the dispensation of the Gospel, though it -be unspeakably more benign, more gracious, -more encouraging to the good and virtuous, is, -at the same time, more awful, more terrifying, -to resolved impenitent sinners, than the -dispensation of Nature: and they are content -to give up their hopes of that immortal prize, -which the revelation of Jesus holds out to them, -rather than encounter the hazard of that severe -sentence, which attends the forfeiture -of it.</p> - -<p>Be it so then: ye had rather forego the hopes -of heaven, than have your minds disquieted -with the fear of hell.</p> - -<p>But, <i>first</i>, do ye not see, that there is something -base and abject in this disposition? For -what generous man will not aspire to an immense -reward, which Heaven, in extreme kindness, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span> -may be almost said to force upon him, -because there may be danger in coming short -of it? “Yes, but the danger is immense, too.” -Rather say, the loss is immense: the danger -of incurring this loss, is not so. For what, -indeed, is the danger, when Heaven is your -guide, and a crown of glory your hope; when -ye have God’s word to assure you of the prize, -ye contend for; when ye have the holy Spirit -of God to assist you in the pursuit; when ye -have the Son of God, your all-merciful Saviour -himself, to be your Judge, and the dispenser of -that prize to you; when, with all these encouragements -on the one hand, ye are, besides, -quickened by a salutary fear of justice, on the -other; and when all that is required of yourselves -is, a reasonable faith, a willing mind, -and a sincere, though, in many respects, imperfect -obedience? Is the danger to be much -esteemed, when the helps are so great, when -the labour is so small, and the success almost -certain? But,</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, Consider, also, whether ye do not -even prevaricate with yourselves, when ye say, -ye had rather take up with a less reward, than -run the hazard of so great a punishment. Ye -certainly resolve not to contend for any reward -at all, not even for the reward of Nature. If -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span> -ye did, ye might with more ease, as well as -certainty, obtain that of the Gospel. For -whether is easier, think ye, to obtain a gift -from infinite mercy, or to extort a debt from -infinite justice?</p> - -<p>But, <i>Lastly</i>, the matter is not left to your -choice. When God, in his wisdom, had projected -a scheme for the salvation of mankind -before the ages; when he had prosecuted that -scheme by many successive revelations of himself, -by many notices and preparatory indications -of his good pleasure; when he had -separated a chosen family from the rest of the -world, to serve as a repository of his councils, -and to minister to himself in the execution of -them; when he had sent forth his angels to -assist in this great work, and had inspired many -prophets and holy men to signify, beforehand, -the glories of a new kingdom which he meant -to establish on earth, and to prepare men for -the reception of it; when, after all these preludes -of his wisdom and goodness, he came, -in due time, to astonish the world with the -completion of this adorable scheme, by sending -forth his only begotten Son, the express -image of his person, to take upon him our nature, -to suffer and to die for us; and, by -raising up Apostles and Evangelists, under the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span> -guidance of his holy Spirit, to record these -amazing transactions; and, by the attestation -of stupendous miracles, to spread the knowledge -of them over the face of the earth: when -this, I say, and more, had been done by the -Almighty to usher in his last best dispensation -into the world, think not, that all this mighty -apparatus was to be thrown away on our caprice -or obstinacy; and that, after all, we may be -at liberty to reject his whole design, or take as -much, or as little of it, as our wayward fancies -shall suggest to us. No: assuredly the councils -of Heaven will stand firm, whatever attempts -we may make, in our wisdom, or weakness, -to subvert them. As well may we think -to overturn the everlasting mountains, or push -the earth itself from its centre, as to defeat or -set aside one tittle of that <i>eternal purpose, -which God hath purposed in Christ Jesus</i><a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">33</a>. -To whomsoever the sound of the Gospel is -come, whether he will hear, or not hear, by -that Gospel he must stand or fall: he is, thenceforth, -<i>under the bond of the Covenant</i>: -through faith in Jesus, he inherits the <i>promises</i>; -or, if he withhold his faith, it is not at his -option to have no concern in the <i>threats</i> of the -Gospel. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span></p> - -<p>I know what is commonly said to representations -of this sort—“That <i>Faith</i> depends not -on the <i>will</i>, but on the <i>understanding</i>: that, -when the evidence for the truth of any proposition -is full and clear, it constrains my assent; -when it is otherwise, I reject the proposition, -as false, or, at best, suspend my belief of it; -and, in either case, as without merit, so without -blame: that no Law is obligatory to me, -any farther than I see cause to admit the authority -of it; and that no pretence of its divine -original can subject me to the sanctions of it, -unless, on my best inquiry, I allow that claim -to be well founded: that, consequently, the -Law of Christianity cannot concern him, who -is not convinced of its truth; that, where -this conviction is not, disbelief must be a -matter purely indifferent: and that <i>He</i> only is -responsible to that Law, who understands it to -be his duty to be controuled and governed by -it.”</p> - -<p>This reasoning is plausible; and has many -advocates, because it flatters the pride and independency -of the human mind.—But, when -a Law is promulged with that evidence, which -the <i>divine Legislator</i> (for of <i>such</i> I am now -speaking) sees to be sufficient for the conviction -of a reasonable man, it is concluding too fast, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span> -to suppose, that I am innocent in rejecting it; -or that I am not bound by it, though I do reject -it. Error, or unbelief, is only indifferent, -when it is perfectly involuntary or invincible; -but there is clearly no room for this plea in the -present case, when, by the supposition, there -is no want of fit evidence.</p> - -<p>Even in the case of <i>human</i> Laws, my rejection -of them may be blameable, though I neither -admit the <i>authority</i> nor the <i>equity</i> of the -laws themselves. For there <i>may</i> be evidence -enough of <i>both</i>, if I will but attend to it. Now -put the case of a <i>divine</i> Legislator; and what -was <i>supposeable</i>, becomes <i>certain</i>. For the attributes -of the Deity will permit no doubt, but -that, when he gives a Law to man, he will afford -such proofs of it, as may, in reason, satisfy -those, to whom it is addressed. So that their -rejection of it can only proceed from some -neglect or wilfulness, on their own part, and -not from the want of a sufficient attestation, on -the part of the Legislator.</p> - -<p>Ye see then, there is no absurdity in supposing -the Law of Christianity to oblige those, -who do not receive it: for if that Law be of -God (and we argue now upon that hypothesis) -the evidence for it must be such as is suited to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span> -our faculties; and being addressed, as the tenor -of it shews, to all mankind, it binds of course -all those to whom that evidence has been submitted.</p> - -<p>And this indeed is the very language of that -Law itself. For the Jews disbelieved the Gospel, -when it was preached to them by our -blessed Lord. But what says the Legislator to -these unbelievers? Does he leave them to the -Law of Nature, whose authority they did not -dispute, or to the Law of Moses, which God -himself, they knew, had given them? No -such thing: he tells them, that very Law, -which they rejected, should <i>judge</i> them. “He, -that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my -words, hath one that judgeth him: the -<small>WORD</small>, that I have spoken, the same shall -judge him in the last day<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">34</a>.” And he assigns -the reason of this determination—“For I -have not spoken of myself; but the Father, -which sent me, he gave me a commandment, -what I should say, and what I should speak:” -that is, the Law, I give you, is of <i>divine authority</i>; -and therefore not to be rejected -without blame on any pretence by you, to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span> -whom the knowledge of it, and the proper -evidence on which it rests, has been committed.</p> - -<p>These reflexions, I know, have small weight -with those, who treat the evidences of the Gospel -with that scorn, which is familiar to some -men. But such persons should, at least, see -that their scorn be well founded. If not—but -I will only say, they may subject themselves, -for aught they know, to the penalties of the -Gospel; I mean, to the future judgement of -<i>that man, whom</i>, in this life, <i>they would not -have to reign over them</i><a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">35</a>.</p> - -<p>But this remonstrance is properly addressed -to those <i>that are without</i>, to the contemners -of the Christian Law. To <small>YOU</small>, who are within -the pale of Christ’s Church, and acknowledge -his authority; who profess yourselves to be his -servants; who admit no other Law, but in -subjection to his, and have no expectation of -life and glory from any other; to <small>YOU</small>, I say, -the question of the text is above measure interesting, -<i>How shall we escape, if we neglect -so great Salvation?</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span></p> - -<p>Compassion, and prudence, and charity may -restrain you from censuring with severity the -enemies of the faith; may dispose you to overlook, -or to soften at least, the alarming denunciations -of the Gospel, in which they are -concerned. But for <small>YOURSELVES</small>, who have -given your names to Christ, and have hope -in him only; who know the wonders of -mercy that have been wrought for you, and -were finally completed on that cross, which is -your trust and consolation, your pride and -glory, it is almost needless to say what <i>your</i> -interest, and what <i>your</i> obligation is, to observe, -respect, and reverence the dispensation -of the Gospel. <i>Ye</i> are self-condemned, if ye -slight this Law: ye are ungrateful, up to all -the possibilities of guilt, if ye make light of it: -ye are undone for ever, if <i>ye neglect so great -Salvation</i>.</p> - -<p>What allowances it may please God to make -for the prejudices, the passions, the slights, -the blasphemies of unthinking and careless -men, who have never embraced the faith of -Jesus, it may not, perhaps, concern you to -inquire. But ye know, that ye are responsible -to that Law, which ye profess, and to that -master, whom ye serve; that to you, indifference -is infidelity; and disobedience, treason; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span> -that wilful unrepented sin in a Christian is -without hope, as without excuse, shuts him -out from all the rewards, and exposes him, -even with his own full consent to all the punishments -of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>In a word, as their <i>joy is great in believing</i>, -who obey the Gospel of Christ; so the guilt -and the terror is proportionably great, to disobedient -believers. For, dreadful as <i>unbelief</i> -may prove in the issue to such as, through -their own fault, have not come to the knowledge -of Christ, <i>Belief</i>, without obedience, is -more dreadful still. I have an apostle’s warrant -for this assertion. <i>For it had been better -for us not to have known the way of righteousness, -than, after we have known it, to turn -from the holy commandment delivered unto us<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">36</a>.</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_VI">SERMON VI.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 16, 1766.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">John</span>, xiv. 8.</h3> - -<p><i>Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, -and it sufficeth us.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Our</span> Lord, being now about <i>to depart out -of the world</i><a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">37</a>, prepares his disciples for this -unwelcome event by many consolations and -instructions. He acquaints them, more particularly -than he had hitherto done, with his -own <i>personal dignity</i>. He tells them, that, -<i>as they believed in God, they were also to -believe in him</i><a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">38</a>; and that, although he should -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span> -shortly leave them, it was only to remove from -Earth to Heaven, to his <i>Father’s house</i>, where -he should more than ever be mindful of their -concerns, <i>and whither I go</i>, says he, <i>to prepare -a place for you</i><a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">39</a>. And, to impress this -<i>belief</i> (so necessary for their future support -under his <i>own</i>, and <i>their</i> approaching sufferings) -the more strongly upon them, He declares, -in the most authoritative manner, <i>that -he</i>, only, <i>was the Way, the Truth, and the -Life; and that no man could come to the -Father, but by him</i><a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">40</a>. Nay, to shew them -how great his interest was, and how close his -union, with the Father, he even adds, <i>If ye -had known me, ye should have known my -Father also; and from henceforth</i>, continues -he, <i>ye know him, and have seen him</i><a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">41</a>.</p> - -<p>This last declaration seemed so strange to -his disciples, who had no notion of <i>seeing the -Father</i> in our Lord’s suffering state, or indeed -through any other medium, than that of those -triumphant honours, which their carnal expectations -had destined to him, that one of -them, the Apostle <i>Philip, saith to him, Lord, -shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us</i>. As -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> -if he had said, “We know thee be a person -of great holiness, and have seen many wonderful -things done by thee; so that we cannot -doubt but that thou art a prophet sent -from God, for some great end and purpose -of his providence. But if thy pretensions -go so far as to require us <i>to believe in Thee, -as in the Father</i>; if we are to conceive -of Thee, as the only <i>Life</i> of the world; of -so great authority with God, as to procure -<i>mansions</i> in heaven for thy disciples; nay, -of so great dignity in thine own person, as -to challenge the closest <i>union</i> and communication -with the eternal Father; if, indeed, -we are to believe such great things of thee, -it is but reasonable, as thou sayest; that, <i>in -knowing and seeing thee, we also know and -see the Father</i>; that we have the clearest -and most unquestioned proofs of thy divinity. -<i>Shew us</i>, then, <i>the Father</i>; make us see the -glorious symbols of his presence; present us -with <i>such</i> irresistible demonstrations of his -power and greatness, as were vouchsafed to -our Fathers, at the giving of the Law; <i>such</i>, -as strike conviction on the senses, and overrule -all doubt and distrust in so high a -matter; <i>shew us</i>, I say, <i>the Father</i>, in this -sense, <i>and it sufficeth</i> to our persuasion and -firm belief in thee.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span></p> - -<p>We see, in this conduct of the Apostle -Philip, a natural picture of those inquirers -into the truth of our religion; who, because -they have not the highest possible evidence -given them of it, (at least, not that evidence, -which they account the <i>highest</i>) are tempted, -if not absolutely to reject the faith, yet to entertain -it with a great mixture of doubt and suspicion. -“If Christianity, say they, were what -it pretends to be, the arguments for it would -be so decisive, that nothing could be opposed -to them; if it were, indeed, of God, -the proofs of its claim had been such and so -many, that no scepticism could have taken -place, no infidelity, at least, could have kept -its ground, against the force of them.”</p> - -<p>When this wild fancy comes to take possession -of men’s minds, the whole tenour of -God’s dispensations is quarrelled with, and -disputed: every circumstance in our Lord’s -history looks suspicious: and every <i>fact</i>, applied -to the confirmation of our holy faith, -rises into a presumption against it.</p> - -<p><i>The word of Prophecy</i> has not been so clear -and manifest, as it might have been: <i>therefore</i>, -the proofs taken from it are of no validity. -The miracles of Christ were not so public or so -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span> -illustrious as might be conceived: <i>therefore</i>, -they are no evidence of his divine mission. -The scene of his birth and actions might have -been more conspicuous: <i>therefore</i>, the light -of the world could not proceed from that -quarter. The Gospel itself was not delivered -in that <i>manner</i>, nor by those <i>instruments</i>, -which they esteem most fit; its <i>success</i> in the -world has not been so great, nor its <i>effects</i> on -the lives of men, so salutary, as might have -been expected: <i>therefore</i>, it could not be of -divine original.</p> - -<p>But there is no end of enumerating the instances -of this folly. Let me observe, in one -word, that the greater part of the objections, -which weak or libertine men have opposed to -the authority of revealed Religion, are of the -same sort with the demand in the text. The -authors of them first <i>imagine</i> to themselves, -what evidence would be the most convincing; -and then refuse their <i>assent</i> to any other. -Their constant language is that of the Apostle -Philip—<i>shew us the Father, and it sufficeth -us</i>.</p> - -<p>Now, to see how little force there is in this -sort of argumentation, let it be considered, -that such high demands of evidence for the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span> -truth of the Christian revelation, are <small>IMPERTINENT</small>, -at the best; that they are, most <i>probably</i>, -on the part of the revealer, <small>IMPROPER</small> -to be complied with; that they <i>must</i> be, on the -part of man, <small>PRESUMPTUOUS</small>, and unwarrantable.</p> - -<p>I. All demands of this sort are clearly <i>impertinent</i>, -and beside the purpose of a fair -inquirer into the authority of a divine Religion. -For the question is, whether such religion be -not accompanied with that <i>evidence</i>, which is -sufficient to determine the assent of a reasonable -man; not, whether it be the highest in -its kind, or in its <i>degree</i>, which might be -imagined. There is an infinite variety, and, -as we may say, gradation in the scale of moral -evidence, from the highest forms of <i>demonstration</i> -down to the lowest inducements of <i>probability</i>. -The impatient mind of man, which -loves to rest in assurance, may demand the -former of these in every case: but the just and -sober inquirer, whatever he may wish for, will -submit to the <i>latter</i>. He takes the argument, -as presented to him; he weighs the moment -of it; and if, on the whole, it preponderates, -though but by some scruples of probability, -against the inductions on the other side, he is -determined by this evidence, with as good -reason, though not with as much assurance, as -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span> -by demonstration itself. His business, he -knows, is to examine whether the conclusion -be justly drawn, not whether it be irresistibly -forced upon him. It is enough, if the proof -be such as <i>merits</i> his assent, though it should -not <i>compel</i> it.</p> - -<p>Apply, now, this universal rule of just -reasoning to the case of the <i>Gospel</i>. Consider -it on the footing of that evidence, which it -pretends to offer. If this evidence be weak -and inconclusive in itself, let it be rejected. -But, if it be sufficient to the purpose for -which it is given, why look out for any <i>higher</i>? -The pretensions of Christianity are, indeed, -very great. It claims to be received by us, as -the <i>work and word of God</i>. The proofs of -its being such should, no doubt, be adapted -to the nature of these pretensions. If, in fact, -they be so adapted, all further attestations of -its truth, all stronger demonstrations of its divinity -(supposing there might be stronger) are, -at least, <i>unnecessary</i>: our demands of them -are without ground, and without reason: that -is, they are clearly <i>not to the purpose</i> of this -inquiry. But</p> - -<p>II. The <i>impertinence</i> of these demands, is -not all. There is good reason to believe, that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span> -they are, in themselves, absolutely unfit and -<small>IMPROPER</small> to be complied with.</p> - -<p>In saying this, I do not only mean that the -<i>evidence</i>, such men call for, is so far mistaken -as to be really of an inferior sort, and less convincing -to a well-informed mind, than that -which they reject. This, no doubt, is very -frequently the case. It has been shewn in -many instances, and even to the conviction of -the objector himself, that such circumstances -as have been thought most suspicious, such -proofs as have appeared the weakest, have upon -inquiry turned out, of all others, the strongest -and most satisfactory. For example, they who -object to the <i>mean instruments</i>, by which the -Christian Religion was propagated, are confuted -by the Apostle Paul himself; who has shewn -<i>that very circumstance</i> to be the clearest proof -of its divinity; this method of publishing the -Gospel having been purposely chosen, <i>that our -faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, -but in the power of God</i><a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">42</a>. And the same -answer will equally serve to many other pretences -of the like nature.</p> - -<p>But, as I said, my intention is not, at present, -to expose the common mistake of preferring -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span> -a <i>weaker</i> evidence to a <i>stronger</i>. Let -it be allowed, that the evidence required is, in -fact, the <i>stronger</i>. Still there is reason to think -that <i>such</i> evidence was not <i>proper</i> to be given. -And I argue, <i>from the nature of the thing</i>; -and <i>from the genius of the Gospel</i>.</p> - -<p>1. In <i>the nature of the thing</i> it seems not -reasonable that a divine revelation should be -obtruded upon men by the highest possible -evidence. This would be to <i>constrain</i> their -assent, not to <i>obtain</i> it: and the very essence -of religion consists in its being a <i>willing</i>, as well -as <i>reasonable</i> service.</p> - -<p>Or, take the matter thus. On supposition -that it should please God to address himself to -man, it is to be presumed he would treat him -<i>as</i> man; that is, in a way, which is suitable -to <i>the whole of his nature</i>. But <i>man</i> is not -only an <i>intelligent</i> being, that is, capable of -discerning the force of evidence, and of being -determined by it: he is, also, a <i>moral</i> being, -that is, capable of making a right or wrong use -of his liberty. Now put the case of an overpowering, -irresistible evidence, and his <i>understanding</i> -is convinced, indeed; but the <i>will</i>, -that other and better half of his composition, -the spring of liberty and of virtue, this, with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span> -all the energies depending upon it, is untouched, -and has no share in the operation. On the -other hand, let the evidence submitted to him -be such only as may satisfy his reason, if attentively, -if modestly, if virtuously employed, -and you see the whole man in play: his <i>intellectual</i> -powers are considered, and his <i>moral</i> -faculties, the faculties of a <i>wise and understanding -heart</i>, applied to and exerted.</p> - -<p>It seems, then, that, if a Revelation were -given to man, it would most probably, and -according to the best views we can form of the -divine conduct, be given in this way; that is, -in such a way, as should make it, at once, the -proper object of his <i>faith</i>, and the test, I had -almost said the reward, of his <i>merit</i>.</p> - -<p>And such, we may observe, is the sense of -mankind in other instances of God’s government. -Who complains, that the ordinary blessings -of Heaven, the conveniences and accommodations -of life, are not ready furnished and -prepared to his hands? Who does not think -it sufficient, to our use and to God’s glory, that -we have the powers requisite to prepare them? -Why then expect this greatest of God’s blessings, -a <i>divine Revelation</i>, to be made cheap -in being forced upon us, whether we will or no, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span> -by an <i>evidence</i>, which silences reason, rather -than employs it; and precludes the exercise of -the noblest faculties, with which our nature is -invested?</p> - -<p>2. Thus, <i>the reason of the thing</i> affords a -presumption (I mean, if men will reason at all -on such matters), that these high demands in -religion are unfit to be complied with. But -we shall argue more safely, in the next place, -from <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">genius and declarations of the -Gospel</span>.</p> - -<p>From the tenour of the Gospel-revelation we -learn, that, though a <i>reasonable evidence</i> be -afforded of its truth, yet the author and publishers -of it were by no means solicitous to force -it on the minds of men by an <i>unnecessary and -irresistible evidence</i>.</p> - -<p>We see this in the conduct of our Lord -himself, who refused to gratify the curiosity -both of friends and foes by needless <i>explanations</i><a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">43</a>, -or supernumerary <i>miracles</i><a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">44</a>. We see -it, further, in his general method of speaking -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span> -by <i>Parables</i><a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">45</a>; which are so contrived as to instruct -the attentive and willing hearer, but not -the prejudiced or indifferent. Nay, when some -of his parables were so obscure as that they might -seem to require an explanation, he did not -always vouchsafe to give it before the people, -but reserved the exposition of them for <i>his -disciples, in private</i><a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">46</a>. <i>To them</i>, only, <i>it -was given to know the mysteries of the kingdom -of heaven</i>: others, were left to their own -interpretation of his <i>Parables</i><a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">47</a>.</p> - -<p>This proceeding of Christ plainly shews that -he was not anxious to <i>instruct</i> or <i>convince</i> in -that <i>way</i>, which might appear the most <i>direct</i> -and <i>cogent</i>. It seems, on the contrary, to -have been his choice to afford the strongest -proofs of his mission and the clearest views of -his doctrine to <i>those</i>, not whose incredulity -needed his assistance most, but <i>who</i>, by their -good dispositions and moral qualities, deserved -it<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">48</a>. He thought not fit <i>to cast pearls before -swine</i><a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">49</a>; and, as contrary as it may be to our -forward expectations, it was a rule with him, -that <i>he that hath, to him it should be given</i><a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">50</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span></p> - -<p>That this was the genius of the Gospel, we -further learn from the stress, which is laid on -<i>Faith</i>. It is everywhere demanded as a previous -qualification in the aspirants to this religion; -it is everywhere spoken of as the highest -moral virtue: a representation, strange and -impossible to be accounted for, if men were to -be borne down by the weight of <i>evidence</i> -only.</p> - -<p>But, to put the matter out of all doubt, we -have it declared to us in express words, that -those converts are the most acceptable to Christ, -who receive his religion, on a reasonable, indeed, -but inferiour evidence. When the Apostle -Thomas expressed his belief, on the evidence -of <i>sense, Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, -because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: -blessed are they that have not seen, and yet -have believed</i><a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">51</a>.</p> - -<p>Now, whatever occasion prophane men may -take from this account of Gospel-evidence to -calumniate the divine Author of our Faith, as -though he relied more on the <i>credulity</i>, than -the <i>conviction</i> of his followers; whatever perverse -use, I say, some men may be disposed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span> -to make of this circumstance; one thing, I -suppose, is clear, “That the genius of the -Gospel does, in fact, discountenance their -<i>high demands</i> of evidence.” So that, taking -the Christian religion for <i>what it is</i> (and for -<i>such</i> only, the rules of good reasoning oblige -us to take it) it is very certain that no man is -authorized to expect other or stronger proofs -of its divinity than have been given. On the -contrary, such proofs, as men account stronger, -could only serve to weaken its evidence, and -overthrow its pretensions.</p> - -<p>III. Lastly, Though no <i>distinct reason</i> could -have been opposed to these high expectations -in religion, yet common sense would have seen, -“That they are, <i>in general</i>, <small>PRESUMPTUOUS -AND UNWARRANTABLE</small>.”</p> - -<p>For what man, that thinks at all, but must -acknowledge that sacred truth, <i>that God’s -ways are not as our ways</i><a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">52</a>; and that it is the -height of mortal folly to prescribe to the Almighty? -<i>What man is he that can know the -council of God? Or, who can think what the -will of the Lord is?—Hardly do we guess -aright at things that are upon the earth, and</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span> -<i>with labour do we find the things that are -before us: but the things that are in heaven -who hath searched out<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">53</a>?</i></p> - -<p>Such passages as these have, I know, been -sometimes brought to insult and disgrace <span class="smcap">Reason</span>, -when employed the most soberly, and in -her proper office. But I quote them for no such -purpose. I mean not to infer from these testimonies, -that we are not competent judges of -the evidence which is laid before us (for why, -then, was it offered?); but, that reason cannot -tell us, <i>what</i> evidence it was fit for Heaven -to give of its own councils and revelations. We -may conjecture, <i>modestly</i> conjecture, without -blame. Nay the wisest and best men, and -even angels themselves, have a reasonable <i>desire -to look into</i> these things: and their <i>speculations</i>, -if duly governed, are, no doubt, -commendable and useful. But we are not, -upon this pretence, to dogmatize on such -matters. Much less, may we take upon us to -reject a <i>well-attested</i> Revelation, a Revelation, -that bears many characteristic marks, many -illustrious signatures and impresses of divinity, -because this or that circumstance, attending it, -does not accord to our narrow views and shallow -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span> -surmises. In short, men would do well -to remember that it is no less a maxim of <i>reason</i> -than of Scripture, <i>that the things of God, -knoweth no man but the Spirit of God</i><a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">54</a>: a -<i>maxim</i>, we should never lose sight of, a moment, -in our religious inquiries.</p> - -<p>But this, though an <i>important</i> consideration, -is a common one, and I pursue it no -farther. Let it suffice to have shewn, “That -when, in matters of religion, men indulge -themselves in <i>fancying</i> what evidence would -have been most convincing to them, and then -erect such fancies into <i>expectations</i>, they are, -at best, employed very <i>idly</i>:”</p> - -<p>“That the worthiest apprehensions, we can -frame of the divine wisdom, and both the genius -and letter of the Christian religion, discountenance -these expectations, as <i>improper -and unreasonable</i> to be complied with:”</p> - -<p>And, “that, from the slightest acquaintance -with ourselves, we must needs confess them to -be <i>presumptuous</i>.”</p> - -<p>The <small>USE</small> to be made of the whole is, <i>that -men think soberly, as they ought to think</i><a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">55</a>; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span> -and that, if ever their restless curiosity, or -some worse principle, impells them to make -the demand in the text, <i>shew us the Father</i>, -they repress the rising folly by this just reflexion, -that they have no right, in their sense -of the word, <i>to see the Father</i>.</p> - -<p>Not but his infinite goodness hath vouchsafed -to unveil himself so far, as is abundantly -sufficient to our conviction. But then we must -be content to <i>see him</i> in that light, in which -he has been graciously pleased to <i>shew</i> himself, -not in that <i>unapproachable light</i><a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">56</a> in which -our madness requires to have him <i>shewn</i> to -us.</p> - -<p>The evidences of Christianity are not dispensed -with a penurious hand: but they lie -dispersed in a very wide compass. They result -from an infinite number of considerations, -each of which has its weight, and all together -<i>such</i> moment, as <i>may be</i>, but is not easily resisted. -To collect and estimate these, much -labour and patience is to be endured; great -parts of learning and genius are required; above -all, an upright and pure mind is demanded. -If, conscious of our little worth or ability, we -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span> -find ourselves not equal to this task, let us -adore in silence, and with that humility which -becomes us. To call out for light, when we -have enough to serve our purpose, is indeed -<i>foolish</i>: but to make this noisy demand, when -we have previously blinded our eyes, or have -resolved to keep them shut, is something <i>more</i> -than folly.</p> - -<p>After all, there is one way, in which the -meanest of us may be indulged in the high -privilege of <small>SEEING</small> <i>the Father</i>, at least, in -the <i>express image</i> of his Son. It is, by keeping -the commandments. <i>He that hath my commandments, -and keepeth them</i>, says our Lord -himself, <i>I will love him, and will</i> <small>MANIFEST</small> -<i>myself to him</i><a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">57</a>. In other words, he will see -and acknowledge the <i>truth</i> of our divine religion. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_VII">SERMON VII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED IN THE YEAR 1771.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">James</span>, iv. 1.</h3> - -<p><i>From whence come wars and fightings among -you? Come they not hence, even of your -lusts that war in your members?</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Interpreters</span> have observed, that these -questions refer to the state of things, which -then took place among the Jews, when this -epistle was addressed to them. For, about -that time, they had grievous <i>wars and fightings</i> -among themselves; every city, and every family, -almost, of this devoted people, not only -in Judea, but in many other countries, through -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span> -which they were <i>scattered abroad</i>, being miserably -distracted and torn asunder by civil -and domestic factions.</p> - -<p>This application, then, of the Apostle’s words -to the Jews of his own time, seems a just one. -But we need look no further for a comment -upon them, than to that <i>hostile</i> spirit, which -too much prevails, at all times, and under all -circumstances, even among Christians themselves.</p> - -<p>The root of this bitterness, we are told, is -in <i>the lusts, that war in our members</i>: that -is, there is, first, an insurrection of our carnal -appetites against the law of our minds; and, -then, the contagion spreads over families, -neighbourhoods, and societies; over all those, -in short, with whom we have any concern, till -the whole world, sometimes, becomes a general -scene of contention and disorder.</p> - -<p>For, ask the princes of this world, what -prompts them to disturb the peace of other -states, and to involve their subjects in all the -horrors of war; and their answer, if they deign -to give one, and if it be ingenuous, must, -commonly, be, <i>their lust of conquest and dominion</i>. -Ask the servants of those princes, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span> -what splits them into parties and factions; and -they can hardly avoid answering, or we can -answer for them, <i>their lust of wealth and -power</i>. Ask the people, at large, and under -whatever denomination, what occasions their -contempt of authority, their disobedience to -magistrates, their transgressions of law, their -cabals and tumults, their hatred, defamation, and -persecution of each other; and charity herself, -for the most part, can dictate no other reply -for them to this question, than that they are -excited to all these excesses by <i>the lust of riot</i> -and misrule, or, of, what they call, <small>LIBERTY</small>.</p> - -<p>But there is no end of pursuing this subject -in all its applications to particular instances. -What we have most reason to lament, is, that -Christians not only <i>fight</i> with each other, at -the instigation of their <i>lusts</i>, for their own -carnal and corrupt ends; but that they make -the very <i>means</i>, which God has appointed to -compose these differences, the instruments of -their animosity, and become outrageous in -their hostile treatment of each other, by the -perversion of those <i>principles</i>, which were intended -to be its restraint. For if any thing -could appease this tumult among men, what -more likely to do it, than the <i>administration -of civil justice</i>, and the <i>sacred institutions of</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span> -<i>religion</i>? Yet, are even these provisions of -divine and human wisdom, for the support of -peace and good order, defeated by our restless -and ingenious passions; and we contrive, to -make <span class="smcap">Religion</span> and <span class="smcap">Law</span> themselves, subservient -to the increase of that contention, which -they tend so naturally to keep out of the world.</p> - -<p>As this abuse, which inverts the order of -things, and turns the medicine of life into a -deadly poison—as this abuse, I say, can never -be enough exposed; let me represent to you -some part of the evils, which this monstrous -misuse of <span class="smcap">Religion</span> and <span class="smcap">Civil Justice</span> has -brought upon mankind; as the last, and most -striking effort of these malignant <i>lusts</i>, from -which, according to the holy Apostle, all our -violations of peace and charity are derived.</p> - -<p>And, <small>FIRST</small>, of the mischiefs, arising, from -<span class="smcap">misapplied Religion</span>.</p> - -<p>It were an ample field, this, should I undertake -to follow the ecclesiastical historian in all -the abuses, which he so largely displays. But -my design is to <i>open the fountains</i>; to point, -only, to the <i>general causes</i>, from which those -abuses have flowed. And the chief of these -<i>causes</i> will not be overlooked, if we consider -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span> -that Christianity has been corrupted by <i>superstition</i>, -by <i>policy</i>, and by <i>sophistry</i>: for, in -each of these ways, the <i>lusts</i>. of men have found -free scope for their activity; and have produced -all those endless discords and animosities, which -have dishonoured the Christian world.</p> - -<p>1. <span class="smcap">Superstition</span> began very early to make -cruel inroads into the religion of Jesus: <i>first</i>, -by debasing its free spirit with the servility of -Jewish observances; next, in adulterating its -simple genius by the pomp of pagan ceremonies; -and, afterwards, through a long course -of dark and barbarous ages, in disfiguring its -<i>reasonable service</i><a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">58</a> by every whimsy, which -a gloomy or disturbed imagination could suggest.</p> - -<p>The <i>lusts</i> of men gave birth to these several -perversions. The obstinate <i>pride</i> of the -Jewish Christian was flattered in retaining the -abrogated ritual of the Law: the pagan proselyte -gratified his <i>vanity</i>, and love of splendor -in religious ministrations, by dressing out -Christianity in all the paint and pageantry of -his ancient worship: and the miserable monk -soothed his <i>fears</i>, or indulged his <i>spite</i>, in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span> -busying himself with I know not what uncommanded -and frivolous expiations, or in torturing -others with the rigours of a fruitless penance.</p> - -<p>From these rank passions, sprung up <i>wars</i> -in abundance among Christians. The Apostles -themselves could not prevent their followers -from <i>fighting</i> with each other, in the cause of -<i>circumcision</i>. The superstition of <i>days</i><a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">59</a>, and -of <i>images</i><a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">60</a>, grew so fierce, that the whole -Christian world was, at different times, thrown -into convulsions by it. And the dreams of -monkery excited every where the most implacable -feuds; which had, commonly, no -higher object, than the credit of their several -<i>Rules</i>, or the honour of their <i>Patron-saints</i>.</p> - -<p>2. When superstition had thus set the world -on fire, a godless <span class="smcap">Policy</span> struck in, to encrease -the combustion.</p> - -<p>The Christian religion, which had <small>TRUTH</small> for -its object, could not but require an assent from -its professors to the doctrines, it revealed; -and, having <span class="smcap">God</span> for its author, it, of course, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span> -exacted a compliance with the few ritual observances, -which he saw fit to ordain. But -the wantonness, or weakness, of the human -mind, introducing a different interpretation of -those <i>doctrines</i>, and a different ministration of -those <i>rites</i>, the policy of princes would not -condescend to tolerate such unavoidable differences, -but would inforce a rigid uniformity -both of sentiment and ceremony, as most conducive, -in their ideas, to the quiet and stability -of their government.</p> - -<p>Again: the honour of prelates and churches -seemed to be concerned in all questions concerning -place and jurisdiction; and, when these -questions arose, was to be maintained by every -artifice, which an interested and secular wisdom -could contrive.</p> - -<p>The <i>lust</i> of dominion, was plainly at the -bottom of these infernal machinations; and -the fruit, it produced, was the most bloody and -unrelenting wars, massacres, and persecutions; -with which the annals of mankind are polluted -and disgraced. But,</p> - -<p>3. To work up these two pests of humanity, -<i>superstition</i>, and <i>intolerance</i>, to all the fury, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span> -of which they are capable, unblessed <span class="smcap">Science</span> -and perverted <span class="smcap">Reason</span> lent their aid.</p> - -<p>For, the pride of knowledge begot innumerable -portentous heresies: which not only corrupted -the divine religion of Jesus (obnoxious -to some taint from the impure touch of human -reason, because <i>divine</i>), but envenomed the -hearts of its professors, against each other, by -infusing into them a bitter spirit of altercation -and dispute.</p> - -<p>In these several ways, then, and from these -causes, has our holy religion been abused. -The <i>lusts</i> of men have turned the Gospel of -peace itself into an instrument of <i>war</i>: a misadventure, -which could not have taken place, -had Christians but recollected and practised -one single precept of their master—<i>Learn of -me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye -shall find rest to your souls</i><a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">61</a>.</p> - -<p>But the perversity of man could not be -brought to learn this salutary lesson; and so -has fulfilled that memorable saying of our -Lord, who, foreseeing what abuses would hereafter -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span> -be made of his charitable system, declared -of himself—<i>I came not to send peace, but a -sword</i><a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">62</a>. This prediction, at least, the enemies -of our faith are ready enough to tell us, has -been amply verified, in the event. It has been -so: it was therefore inspired, because it was to -be fulfilled. But let them remember, withall, -that not the genius of the Gospel, but man’s -incorrigible passions, acting in defiance of it, -have given to this prophecy its entire completion.</p> - -<p>I come now to represent to you,</p> - -<p>II. In the second place, how the <i>lusts</i> of -men have perverted <span class="smcap">Civil Justice</span>, as well as -Religion, into an instrument of contention and -hate.</p> - -<p>The object of all civil, or municipal laws, is -the conservation of private peace, in the equal -protection they afford to the property and persons -of men. Yet, how often have they been -employed to other purposes, <i>by those, who administer -the Laws</i>; and <i>by those, for whose -sake they are administered</i>! -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span></p> - -<p>1. In reading the history of mankind, one -cannot but observe, with indignation, how frequently -the magistrate himself has turned the -Law, by which he governs, into an engine of -oppression: sometimes, directing it against the -liberties of the state; and sometimes, against -the private rights of individuals. It were a -small matter, perhaps, if he only took advantage -of a <i>severe</i> law, or drew over an <i>ambiguous</i> -one, to countenance his iniquitous purposes. -But how oft has he embittered the mildest, or -tortured the plainest laws, by malignant glosses -and strained interpretations! gratifying, in -both ways, his revenge, his avarice, or his -ambition; yet still in the forms of Law, and -under the mantle, as it were of public justice!</p> - -<p>Such abuses there <i>have</i> been in most states, -and, it may be, in our own. God forbid, that, -standing in this place, I should <i>accept the persons -of men, or give flattering titles unto -any</i><a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">63</a>. But truth obliges me to say, that there -is, now, no colour for these complaints. The -administration of justice, on the part of the -<i>Magistrate</i>, is so pure, as to be the glory of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span> -the age, in which we live. The abuses all arise -from another quarter; and the contentious spirit -is kept alive and propagated by the lusts of -private men. And what renders their iniquity -without excuse, is, that the very equity of -those forms, in which our laws are administered, -is made the occasion of introducing all these -corruptions.</p> - -<p>2. To come to a <i>detail</i> on this subject, -might be thought improper. Let me paint to -you, then, in very <i>general</i> terms, the disorders -that spring from this perversion of Law; and, -to do it with advantage, let me employ the -expressive words of an ancient Pagan writer.</p> - -<p>The Roman governors of provinces, it is -well known, had their times for the more solemn -administration of civil justice. Suppose, -then, one of these governors to have fixed his -residence in the capital of an Asiatic province, -to have appointed a day for this solemnity, and, -with his Lictors, and other ensigns of authority -about him, to be now seated in the -forum, or public place of the city; and consider, -if the following representation of an indifferent -by-stander be not natural and instructive. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span></p> - -<p>“See,” says the eloquent writer<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">64</a>, whose -words I only translate, “see that vast and -mixt multitude assembled together before -you. You ask, what has occasioned this -mighty concourse of people. Are they met -to sacrifice to their country Gods, and to -communicate with each other in the sacred -offices of their religion? Are they going -to offer the Lydian first-fruits to the Ascræan -Jupiter? or, are they assembled in such -numbers to celebrate the rites of Bacchus, -with the usual festivity? Alas, no. Neither -pious gratitude, nor festal joy, inspires -them. <i>One</i> fierce unfriendly passion <i>only</i> -prevails; whose epidemic rage has stirred up -all Asia, and, as returning with redoubled -force on this stated anniversary, has driven -these frantic crowds to the forum; where -they are going to engage in law-suits with -each other, before the Judges. An infinite -number of causes, like so many confluent -streams, rush together, in one common tide, -to the same tribunal. The passions of the -contending parties are all on fire; and the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span> -end of this curious conflict is, the ruin of -themselves and others. What fevers, what -calentures, what adust temperament of the -body, or overflow of its vicious humours, is -to be compared to this plague of the distempered -mind? Were you to interrogate -each cause (in the manner you examine a -witness) as it appears before this tribunal, -and ask, <small>WHENCE IT CAME</small>? the answer -would be, an obstinate and self-willed spirit -produced <i>this</i>; a bitter rage of contention, -<i>that</i>; and a lust of revenge and injustice, -<i>another</i>.”</p> - -<p>It is not to be doubted, that this rage of the -contending parties was inflamed, in those -times, by mercenary agents and venal orators; -by men, who employed every fetch of cunning, -and every artifice of chicane, to perplex the -clearest laws, to retard the decision of the -plainest cases, and to elude the sentence of the -ablest judges. Without some such management -as this, the passions of the litigants -could not have been kept up in such heat and -fury, but must gradually have cooled, and -died away of themselves. Add this, then, to -the other features, so well delineated, and you -will have the picture of <i>ancient litigation</i> complete. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span></p> - -<p>And what think we, now, of this picture? -Is there truth and nature in it? Are we at all -concerned in this representation; and do we -discover any resemblance to it in what is -passing elsewhere, I mean in modern times, -and even in Christian societies? If we do, let -us acknowledge with honesty, but indeed with -double shame, that, like the Pagans of old, -we have the art to pervert the best things to -the worst purposes; and that the <i>lusts</i> of men -are still predominant over the wisest and most -beneficent institutions of civil justice.</p> - -<p>Indeed, as to ourselves, the mild and equitable -spirit of our laws might be enough, one -would think, to inspire another temper: but -when we further consider the divine spirit of -the Gospel, by which we pretend to be governed, -and the end of which is <i>charity</i>, our -prodigious abuse of <i>both</i> must needs cover us -with confusion.</p> - -<p>The instruction, then, from what has been -said, is this: That, since, as St. James observes, -all our <i>wars and fightings</i> with each -other proceed only from our <i>lusts</i>, and since -<i>these</i> have even prevailed to that degree as to -corrupt the two best gifts, which God, in his -mercy, ever bestowed on mankind, that is, to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span> -make <i>Religion</i> and <i>Law</i> subservient to our -bitter animosities; since all this, I say, has -been made appear in the preceding comment -on the sacred text, it becomes us, severally, -to consider what our part has been in the disordered -scene, now set before us: what care -we have taken to check those unruly passions, -which are so apt, by indulgence, to tyrannize -over us; and, if this care has been less than it -ought to have been, what may be the consequence -of our neglect. We should, in a word, -<i>take heed, how we bite and devour one another</i>; -not only, as the Apostle admonishes, <i>that we -be not consumed one of another</i>; but lest, in -the end, we incur the chastisement of that <span class="smcap">Law</span>, -we have so industriously perverted, and the -still sorer chastisement of that <span class="smcap">Religion</span>, we -have so impiously abused. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_VIII">SERMON VIII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 29, 1770.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">1 Tim.</span> i. 5.</h3> - -<p><i>The end of the Commandment is charity, out -of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, -and of faith unfeigned.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> Apostle, in the preceding verse, had -warned Timothy against <i>giving heed to fables -and endless genealogies</i>: by <span class="smcap">Fables</span>, meaning -certain Jewish fictions and traditions applied -to the explication of theological questions, and -not unlike the tales of the pagan mythologists, -contrived by them to cover the monstrous -stories of their Gods; and, by <span class="smcap">Genealogies</span>, -the derivation of Angelic and Spiritual natures<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">65</a>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> -according to a fantastic system, invented -by the Oriental philosophers, and thence -adopted by some of the Grecian Sects. These -<i>fables and genealogies</i> (by which the Jewish -and Pagan converts to Christianity had much -adulterated the faith of the Gospel) the Apostle -sets himself to expose and reprobate, as producing -nothing but curious and fruitless disputations; -being indeed, as he calls them, -<i>endless</i>, or interminable<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">66</a>; because, having no -foundation in the revealed word of God, they -were drawn out, varied, and multiplied at -pleasure by those, who delighted in such fanatical -visions.</p> - -<p>Then follows the text.—<i>The end of the -Commandment, is</i> <span class="smcap">Charity</span>: <i>out of a</i> <small>PURE -HEART</small>: <i>and of a</i> <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>; <i>and of</i> -<small>FAITH UNFEIGNED</small>—As if the Apostle had said, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span>“I have cautioned you against this pernicious -folly: but, if ye must needs deal in the way of -Mythology and Genealogy, I will tell you how -ye may employ your ingenuity to more advantage. -Take Christian <i>Charity</i>, for your -theme: <i>mythologize</i> that capital Grace of your -profession; or, deduce the <i>parentage</i> of it, -according to the steps, which I will point out - -to you. For it springs immediately out of <i>a -pure heart</i>; which, itself, is derived from <i>a -good conscience</i>; as that, again, is the genuine -offspring or emanation of <i>faith unfeigned</i>. -In this way, ye may gratify your mythologic -or genealogical vein, innocently and usefully<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">67</a>; -for ye may learn yourselves, and teach others, -how to acquire and perfect that character, which -is the great object of your religion, and <i>the end -of the Commandment</i>.”</p> - -<p>Let us, then, if you please, attend to this -genealogical deduction of the learned Apostle; -and see, if the descent of Christian charity be -not truly and properly investigated by him.</p> - -<p>I. <span class="smcap">Charity</span>, says he, is <i>out of a pure heart</i>: -that is, it proceeds from a heart, free from the -habits of sin, and unpolluted by corrupt affections.</p> - -<p>To see with what propriety, the Apostle -makes a pure heart the <i>parent</i> of charity, we -are to reflect, that this benevolent temper, -which inclines us to wish and do well to others, -is the proper growth and produce, indeed, of -the human mind, but of the human mind in its -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span> -native and original integrity. To provide -effectually for the maintenance of the social -virtues, it hath pleased God to implant in -man, not only the power of reason, which -enables him to see the connexion between -his own happiness and that of others, but -also certain instincts and propensities, which -make him <i>feel</i> it, and, without reflexion, incline -him to take part in foreign interests. For, -among the other wonders of our make, this is -<i>one</i>, that we are so formed as, whether we will -or no, <i>to rejoice with them that rejoice, and -weep with them that weep</i><a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">68</a>. But now this -sympathetic tenderness, which nature hath put -into our hearts for the concerns of each other, -may be much impaired by habitual neglect, or -selfish gratifications. If, instead of listening -to those calls of nature, which, on the entrance -into life, are incessantly, but gently, urging us -to acts of generosity, we turn a deaf ear to -them, and, charmed by the suggestions of self-love, -yield up ourselves to the dominion of the -grosser appetite, it cannot be but that the love of -others, however natural to us, must decline, and -become, at length, a feeble motive to action; -or, which amounts to the same thing, be constantly -overpowered by the undue prevalence -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span> -of other principles. Thus we may see, how -ambition, avarice, sensuality, or any other of -the more selfish passions, tends directly, by -indulgence, to obstruct the growth of <i>charity</i>; -and how favourable an uncorrupt mind is to -the production and maturity of this divine -virtue.</p> - -<p>But, further, the impurities of the heart do -not only hinder the exertions of <i>benevolence</i>; -they have even a worse effect, they cause us to -pervert and misapply it. It is not, perhaps, so -easy a matter, as some imagine, to divest ourselves -of all attachment to the interest of our -fellow-creatures. But, by a long misuse of our -faculties, we may come in time to mistake the -objects of <i>true</i> interest; and so be carried, by -the motives of benevolence itself, to do irreparable -mischief to those we would most befriend -and oblige. This seems to be the case of those -most abandoned of all sinners, who take pains -to corrupt others, and not only do wicked things -themselves, <i>but have pleasure in those who do -them</i><a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">69</a>. All that can be said for these unhappy -victims of their own lusts, is, that their <i>perverted -benevolence</i> prompts them to encourage others -in that course of life, from which, if it were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span> -rightly exercised, they would endeavour, with -all their power, to divert them.</p> - -<p>So necessary it is, that charity should be out -of <i>a pure heart</i>! It is polluted in its very -birth, unless it proceed from an honest mind: -it is spurious and illegitimate, if it be not so -descended.</p> - -<p>II. The next step in this line of moral ancestry, -is a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>: which phrase is -not to be taken here in the negative sense, and -as equivalent only to a <i>pure heart</i>; but as expressing -a further, a <i>positive</i> degree of goodness. -For so we find it explained elsewhere; -<i>having</i>, says St. Peter, a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>, <i>that -whereas they speak evil of you, as</i> <small>EVIL DOERS</small>, -<i>they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your</i> -<small>GOOD CONVERSATION</small> <i>in Christ Jesus: for it -is better, if the will of God be so, that ye -suffer for</i> <small>WELL DOING</small>, <i>than for evil doing</i><a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">70</a>. -Whence, by <i>a good conscience</i>, we are authorized -to understand a mind, <i>conscious to itself -of beneficent actions</i>. And thus the Apostle’s -intention will be, to insinuate to us, that, to -be free from <i>depraved affections</i>, we must be -actively virtuous; and that we must be <i>zealous</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span> -in good works, if we would attain to that <i>purity</i> -of heart, which is proper to beget the genuine -virtue of Christian charity.</p> - -<p>For, we may conceive of the matter, thus. -A <i>good conscience</i>, or a mind enured to right -action, is most likely, and best enabled, to -shake off all corrupt partialities; and, as being -intent on the strenuous exercise of its duty, in -particular instances, to acquire, in the end, -that tone of virtue, which strengthens, at once, -and refines the affections, till they expand themselves -into an universal good-will. Thus we -see that, without this moral discipline, we -should scarce possess, or not long retain, a <i>pure -heart</i>; and that the heart, <i>if pure</i>, would yet -be inert and sluggish, and unapt to entertain -that prompt and ready benevolence, which -true charity implies.</p> - -<p>So that an active practical virtue, as serving -both to purify and invigorate the kind affections, -has deservedly a place given to it in this lineal -descent of Christian love. But,</p> - -<p>III. The Apostle rises higher yet in this -genealogical scale of charity, and acquaints us -that a <i>good conscience</i>, or a course of active -positive virtue, is not properly and lawfully descended, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span> -unless it proceed from a <small>FAITH UNFEIGNED</small>, -that is, a sincere undissembled belief -of the Christian religion.</p> - -<p>And the reason is plain. For there is no dependance -on virtuous practice; we cannot expect -that it should either be steady, or lasting, -unless the principle, from which it flows, be -something nobler and more efficacious, than -considerations taken from the beauty, propriety, -and usefulness of virtue itself. Our active -powers have need to be sustained and -strengthened by energies of a higher kind, than -those which mere philosophy supplies. We -shall neither be able to bear up against the difficulties -of a good life, nor to stand out against -the temptations, which an evil world is always -ready to throw in our way, but by placing a -firm trust on the promises of God, and by keeping -our minds fixed on the glorious hopes and -assurances of the Gospel. And <i>experience</i> -may satisfy us, that practical virtue has no -stability or consistency, without these supports.</p> - -<p>Besides, considering a <i>good conscience</i>, or a -moral practical conduct, with an eye to its influence -on a <i>pure heart</i>, till it issue in complete -<i>charity</i>, we cannot but see how the Christian -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span> -faith is calculated to direct its progress, and secure -the great end proposed. For the whole -system of our divine religion, which hath its -foundation in <i>grace</i>; its <i>precepts</i>, which -breathe nothing but love and amity; its <i>doctrines</i>, -which only present to us, under different -views, the transcendent goodness of -God in the great work of redemption; its <i>history</i>, -which records the most engaging instances -of active benevolence; all this cannot -but exceedingly inspirit our affections, and -carry them out in a vigorous and uniform prosecution -of the subordinate <i>means</i>, which are -to produce that last perfection of our nature, a -pure and permanent love of mankind. For at -every step we cannot but see the <i>end of the -commandment</i>, so perpetually held out to us, -and derive a fresh inducement from <i>faith</i>, to -accomplish and obtain it.</p> - -<p>Indeed, to produce this effect, our <i>faith</i>, as -the Apostle adds, must be <small>UNFEIGNED</small>: that is, -it must be nourished and intimately rooted in -the heart; we must not only yield a general -assent to the sacred truths of our religion, we -must embrace them with earnestness and zeal, -we must rely upon them with an unshaken -confidence and resolution. But all this will be -no difficulty to those who derive their <i>faith</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> -from its proper source, that is, who make a -diligent study of the holy scriptures: where -<i>only</i> we learn what the <i>true</i> faith (which will -ever be most friendly to virtue) is; and whence -we shall <i>best</i> derive those motives and considerations, -which are proper to excite and fortify -this principle in us.</p> - -<p>And thus, that Charity, which a <i>pure mind</i> -gives the liberty of exerting, and which a <i>good -conscience</i> manifests and at the same time improves, -will, further, be so sublimed and perfected -by the influence of divine <i>faith</i>, as will -render it the sovereign guide of life, and the -pride and ornament of humanity.</p> - -<p>Or, to place the descent of Charity, in its -true and natural order, it must spring, first, -from an <i>unfeigned faith</i> in the Gospel of Jesus: -that faith must then produce, and shew itself -in, a <i>good conscience</i>: and that conscience -must be thoroughly purged from all selfish and -disorderly <i>affections</i>: whence, lastly, the celestial -offspring of <i>Charity</i> has its birth, and -comes forth in all the purity and integrity of -its nature.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">From this</span> lineage of Christian Charity, thus -deduced, many instructive lessons may be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span> -drawn. We may learn to distinguish the true -and genuine, from pretended Charity: we have, -hence, the surest way of discerning the spirits -of other men, and of trying our own: we may -correct some popular mistakes concerning the -virtue of charity; and shall best comprehend -the force and significancy of the several commendations, -which the inspired writers, in -many places, and in very general terms, bestow -upon it.</p> - -<p>Let me conclude this discourse with an instance -of such instruction, respecting each of -those heads, which the order of the text hath -afforded the opportunity of considering.</p> - -<p>And, <i>first</i>, from the necessity of a <small>PURE -HEART</small>, we are instructed what to think of the -benevolence of those men, who, though enslaved -to their own selfish passions, are seldom the -most backward to make large pretences to this -virtue. But, be their pretences what they will, -we know with certainty, that, if the heart be -impure, its charity must be defective. It must, -of course, be weak and partial; confined in its -views, and languid in its operations; in a -word, a faint and powerless quality, and not that -generous, diffusive, universal principle, which -alone deserves the exalted name of <i>Charity</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span></p> - -<p>We conclude, also, on the same grounds, -that the hatred of vice is no breach of Christian -charity. This charity is required to flow from a -<i>pure heart</i>. But there is not in nature a stronger -antipathy, than between <i>purity</i>, and <i>impurity</i>. -So that we might as well expect light and -darkness, heat and cold, to associate, as spotless -virtue not to take offence at its opposite. I -know, indeed, that the hatred due to the vices -of men, is too easily transferred to their persons. -But that charity, which is lineally descended -from <i>faith</i>, will see to make a difference -between them; and while it feels a quick -resentment against <i>sin</i>, will conceive, nay will, -by that very resentment, demonstrate, a tender -concern for <i>sinners</i>, for whom Christ -died.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, from the rank, which a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small> -holds in this family of love, we are -admonished to avoid the mistake of those, who -are inclined to rest in negative virtue, as the -<i>end of the commandment</i>; and who account -their charity full and complete, when it keeps -them only from intending, or doing mischief -to others. The Apostle, on the contrary, gives -us to understand, that its descent is irregular, -if it be not allied to active positive virtue; -such as takes a pleasure in kind offices, is zealous -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span> -to promote the welfare of others, and is fertile -in <i>good works</i>. And this conclusion is the more -necessary to be inforced upon us, since, in a -world like this, where vice is sure to be active -enough, the interests of society will not permit -that Charity should be idle.</p> - -<p>Lastly, from the lineal descent of Charity -from <small>FAITH</small>, we must needs infer, that infidelity -is not a matter of that indifference to -social life, which many careless persons suppose -it to be. It is the glory of our faith, that it -terminates in charity. Every article of our -creed is a fresh incitement to good works: in -so much that, he who understands his religion -most perfectly, and is most firmly persuaded -of it, can scarce fail of approving himself the -best man, as well as the best <i>Christian</i>. And -this, again, is a consideration, which should -affect all those who profess to have any concern -for the interests of society and moral -virtue.</p> - -<p>Thus it appears, how instructive the doctrine -of the text is, and how usefully, as well as -elegantly, the Apostle sets before us, in this -short genealogical table, the proper ancestry of -Charity: in which <i>Faith</i>, as the ultimate progenitor, -begets an <i>active virtue</i>; and that, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span> -impregnating the <i>heart</i> with pure affections, -produces at length this divine offspring of -<i>Christian love</i>.</p> - -<p>If we had found this mythological fiction in -Xenophon or Plato, we should have much admired -the instruction conveyed in it. Let it -not abate our reverence for this moral lesson, -that it comes from an Apostle of Jesus, and, -if not dressed out in the charms of human -eloquence, has all the authority of truth and -divine inspiration to recommend it to us. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_IX">SERMON IX.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 9, 1766.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xii. 10.</h3> - -<p>—<i>In honour preferring one another.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">It</span> is much to the honour of the inspired -writers, because it shews them to be no enthusiasts, -that, with all their zeal for the revealed -doctrines of the Gospel, they never -forget or overlook the common duties of <i>humanity</i>; -those duties, which Reason itself, a -prior Revelation, had made known to the wiser -part of mankind.</p> - -<p>Nay, which is more remarkable, they sometimes -condescend to enforce what are called the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span> -<i>lesser moralities</i><a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">71</a>; that is, those inferiour -duties, which, not being of absolute necessity -to the support of human society, are frequently -overlooked by other moralists, and yet, as contributing -very much to the comfortable enjoyment -of it, are of <i>real</i> moment, and deserve a -suitable regard.</p> - -<p>The text is an instance of this sort—<i>in honour -preferring one another</i>—the <small>NATURE</small>, -and <small>GROUND</small>, and right <small>APPLICATION</small>, of which -duty, it is my present purpose to explain.</p> - -<p>1. The general <small>NATURE</small> of this virtue consists -in a disposition to express our good will to -others by exteriour testimonies of respect; to -consult the credit and honour of those we converse -with, though at some expence of our own -vanity and self-love. It implies a readiness to -prevent them in the customary decencies of -conversation; a facility to give way to their -reasonable pretensions, and even to abate something -of our own just rights. It requires us to -suppress our petulant claims of superiority; -to decline all frivolous contests and petty rivalries; -to moderate our own demands of pre-eminence -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span> -and priority; and, in a word, to -please others, rather than ourselves.</p> - -<p>It is an easy, social, conciliating virtue; a -virtue made up of <i>humility</i> and <i>benevolence</i>; -the <i>former</i>, inclining us not to think more -highly of ourselves than we ought; and the -<i>latter</i>, to give our Christian brother an innocent -satisfaction when we can.</p> - -<p>And our obligation to the practice of this -virtue is <small>FOUNDED</small>,</p> - -<p>II. On the clearest reasons, taken both from -the <i>nature of man</i>, and the <i>genius of our holy -Religion</i>.</p> - -<p>And, <small>FIRST</small>, from <i>the nature of man</i>.</p> - -<p>Among the various principles, some of them, -in appearance, discordant and contradictory, -which constitute our common nature, one of -the first to take our attention is, “A conscious -sense of dignity;” an opinion of self-consequence, -which mixes itself with all our thoughts -and deliberations; prompting us to entertain -lofty sentiments of our own worth, and aspiring -to something like superiority and dominion -over other men. This principle, which -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span> -appears very early, and is strongest in the -more generous dispositions, is highly necessary -to a being formed for virtuous action; and naturally -leads to the exertion of such qualities -as are proper to benefit society, as well as to -gain that ascendency in it, to which we pretend. -It is the spring, indeed, of every commendable -emulation; puts in act all our better -and nobler faculties; and gives nerves to that -labor and industry, by which every worthy -accomplishment is attained.</p> - -<p>But now this principle (so natural and useful), -when it is not checked by others, but is -suffered to take the lead and predominate on -all occasions, undisciplined and uncontrolled, -easily grows into a very offensive and hurtful -quality: <i>offensive</i>, because it is now exerted -to the humiliation of every other, who is actuated -by the same principle; and <i>hurtful</i>, because, -in this undue degree, it counteracts the -very purpose, <i>the good of human society</i>, for -which it was designed.</p> - -<p>This quality we know by the name of <span class="smcap">Pride</span>. -The other moderate degree of self-esteem, -which is allowable and virtuous, seems not (I -suppose, from its rare appearance under that -form) to have acquired in our language a distinct -name. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span></p> - -<p>To <i>Pride</i>, then, the pernicious and too -common issue of self-love, it became necessary, -that some other principle should be opposed. -And such a principle, as is proper to correct -the malignity of pride, we find in that <i>philanthropy</i>, -which, by an instinct of the same common -nature, disposeth us to consult the happiness, -and to conciliate to ourselves the good -will and affection, of mankind. This benevolent -movement of the mind is, further, -quickened by the mutual interest all men have -in the exercise of it. For Pride is disarmed by -submission; and, by receding from our own -pretensions, we take the most likely way to -moderate those of other men. Thus, the generous -affections are kept in play; reciprocal -civilities are maintained; and, by the habit of -<i>each preferring other</i>, which prudence would -advise, if instinct did not inspire, the peace of -society is preserved, its joy encreased, and -even our vanity, so far as it is a just and natural -affection, gratified and indulged.</p> - -<p>The reason of the Apostolic precept is, then, -laid deep in the constitution of human nature; -which is so wonderfully formed, that its <i>perfection</i> -requires the reconciliation of contrary -qualities; and its <i>happiness</i> results from making -benevolence itself subservient to self-love. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span></p> - -<p>2. If, from the philosophic consideration of -man, we turn to the <i>genius of the Gospel</i>, we -shall there find this conclusion of natural reason -strengthened and confirmed by evangelical -motives.</p> - -<p>Benevolence, which, in the Gospel, takes -the name of <i>Charity</i>, hath a larger range in -this new dispensation, than in that of nature. -The doctrine, and still more the example, of -Jesus, extends the duty of humility and self-denial; -requires us to make ampler sacrifices -of self-love, and to give higher demonstrations -of good-will to others, than mere reason could -well demand or enforce. He, that was so far -from <i>seeking his own</i>, that he <i>emptied himself -of all his glory</i>, and stooped from heaven to -earth, for the sake of man, hath a right to -expect, from his followers, a more than ordinary -effort to conform to so divine a precedent, -a peculiar attention to the mutual benefits and -concerns of each other. It is but little that -we keep within some decent bounds our aspiring -tempers and inclinations: we are now -to <i>subject</i> ourselves to our Christian brethren; -to renounce even our innocent and lawful pretensions; -and to forego every natural gratification, -when the purposes of Christian Charity -call us to this arduous task. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span></p> - -<p>For the Gospel, it is to be observed, has -taken us out of the loose and general relation -of men, and has bound us together in the -closer and more endearing tie of <i>Brethren</i>: it -exalts the good-will, we were obliged to bear -to the species, into the affection, which consanguinity -inspires for the individuals of a -private family. The Apostle, therefore, in -the words preceding the text, bids us—<i>be -kindly affectioned one to another with</i> <small>BROTHERLY -LOVE</small>—not, with the <i>love</i>, that unites -one <i>man</i> with another<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">72</a>, which is the highest -pretension of mere morality; but with the -<i>love</i>, that knits together natural <i>brethren</i><a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">73</a>, -which is the proper boast and character of -evangelical love. The words of the original -have a peculiar energy<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">74</a>. They express that -instinctive warmth of affection, which nature -puts into our hearts for our nearest kindred, -such as communicate with us by the participation -of one common blood.</p> - -<p>So that the same compliances, we should -make with <i>their</i> inclinations, the same preference, -we should give to <i>their</i> humour and interest -above our own, should now be extended -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span> -and exercised towards all Christians; and that -principle of an ardent affection, by which we -are led to make the most chearful condescensions -to our <i>natural</i> brother, should work in -us the same generous consideration of our <i>spiritual</i> -brother, <i>for whom Christ died</i>.</p> - -<p>Having explained the <i>nature</i> of this duty, -and the <i>grounds</i>, both in reason and religion, -on which it rests, it now remains,</p> - -<p>III. To provide for the <small>RIGHT APPLICATION</small> -of it in practice. And here, in truth, the whole -difficulty lies.</p> - -<p>It is evident enough, I suppose, from what -has been said, That the moral and Christian -duty of <i>preferring one another in honour</i>, respects -only social peace and charity, and terminates -in the good and edification of our -Christian brother. Its use is, to soften the -minds of men, and to draw them from that savage -rusticity, which engenders many vices, -and discredits the virtues themselves. But -when men had experienced the benefit of this -complying temper, and further saw the ends, -not of charity only, but of <small>SELF-INTEREST</small>, that -might be answered by it; they considered no -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span> -longer its just purpose and application, but -stretched it to that officious sedulity, and extreme -servility of adulation, which we too often -observe and lament in polished life.</p> - -<p>Hence, that infinite attention and consideration, -which is so rigidly exacted, and so duly -paid, in the commerce of the world: hence, -that prostitution of mind, which leaves a man -no will, no sentiment, no principle, no character; -all which disappear under the uniform -exhibition of good-manners: hence, those -insidious arts, those studied disguises, those -obsequious flatteries, nay, those affected freedoms, -in a word, those multiplied and nicely-varied -forms of insinuation and address; the -direct aim of which may be to acquire the fame -of politeness and good-breeding; but the certain -effect, to corrupt every virtue, to sooth -every vanity, and to inflame every vice, of the -human heart.</p> - -<p>These fatal mischiefs introduce themselves -under the pretence and semblance of that <i>humanity</i>, -which the text encourages and enjoins. -But the <i>genuine</i> virtue is easily distinguished -from the <i>counterfeit</i>, and by the following -plain <i>signs</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span></p> - -<p>1. <span class="smcap">True politeness</span> is modest, unpretending, -and generous. It appears as little as may -be; and, when it does a courtesy, would willingly -conceal it. It chuses silently to forego -its own claims, not officiously to withdraw -them. It engages a man to <i>prefer his neighbour -to himself</i>, because he really esteems -him; because he is tender of his reputation; -because he thinks it more manly, more Christian, -to descend a little himself, than to degrade -another—It respects, in a word, the -<i>credit and estimation</i> of his neighbour.</p> - -<p>The mimic of this amiable virtue, <small>FALSE -POLITENESS</small>, is, on the other hand, ambitious, -servile, timorous. It affects popularity; is solicitous -to please, and to be taken notice of. -The man of this character does not offer, but -obtrude, his civilities: <i>because</i> he would merit -by this assiduity; because, in despair of winning -regard by any worthier qualities, he -would be sure to make the most of this; and, -lastly, because of all things he would dread, by -the omission of any punctilious observance, to -give offence.—In a word, this sort of politeness -respects, for its immediate object, the <i>favour -and consideration</i> of our neighbour. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span></p> - -<p>2. Again: the man, who governs himself -by the <i>spirit</i> of the Apostle’s precept, expresses -his <i>preference of another</i> in such a way as is -worthy of himself: in all innocent compliances, -in all honest civilities, in all decent and manly -condescensions.</p> - -<p>On the contrary, the man of the world, who -rests in the <i>letter</i> of this command, is regardless -of the <i>means</i>, by which he conducts himself. -He respects neither his own dignity, nor -that of human nature. Truth, reason, virtue, -all are equally betrayed by this supple impostor. -He assents to the errors, though the most -pernicious; he applauds the follies, though the -most ridiculous; he sooths the vices, though -the most flagrant, of other men. He never -contradicts, though in the softest form of insinuation; -he never disapproves, though by a -respectful silence; he never condemns, though -it be only by a good example. In short, he -is sollicitous for nothing, but by some studied -devices to hide from others, and, if possible, to -palliate to himself, the grossness of his illiberal -adulation.</p> - -<p>3. Lastly, we may be sure, that the <i>ultimate</i> -<small>ENDS</small>, for which these different <i>objects</i> are pursued, -and by so different <i>means</i>, must also lie -wide of each other. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span></p> - -<p>Accordingly, the truly polite man would, by -all proper testimonies of respect, promote the -credit and estimation of his neighbour, <i>because</i> -he sees, that, by this generous consideration -of each other, the peace of the world is in a -good degree preserved; <i>because</i> he knows that -these mutual attentions prevent animosities, -soften the fierceness of men’s manners, and -dispose them to all the offices of benevolence -and charity; <i>because</i>, in a word, the interests -of society are best served by this conduct; and -<i>because</i> he understands it to be his duty, <i>to -love his neighbour</i>.</p> - -<p>The falsely polite, on the contrary, are -anxious by all means whatever, to procure the -favour and consideration of those they converse -with, <i>because</i> they regard ultimately nothing -more than their private interest; <i>because</i> they -perceive, that their own selfish designs are best -carried on by such practices: in a word, <i>because</i> -they <i>love themselves</i>.</p> - -<p>Thus we see, the genuine virtue consults the -honour of others by worthy means, and for -the noblest purpose; the counterfeit, sollicits -their favour by dishonest compliances, and for -the basest end. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span></p> - -<p>By such evident marks are these two characters -distinguished from each other! and so -impossible it is, without a wilful perversion of -our faculties, to mistake in the application of -the Apostle’s precept!</p> - -<p>It follows, you see, from what has been said, -“that integrity of heart, as Solomon long -since observed, is the best guide in morals<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">75</a>.” -We may impose upon others by a shew of civility; -but the deception goes no farther. We -cannot help knowing, in our own case, if we be -ingenuous, when this virtue retains its nature, -and when it degenerates into the vice that -usurps its name. To conclude, an honest man -runs no risk in being polite. Let us only -<i>respect</i> ourselves; and we shall rarely do amiss, -when, as the Apostle advises, <i>in honour we -prefer one another</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_X">SERMON X.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 6, 1770.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">John</span> xiii. 8.</h3> - -<p>—<i>Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, -thou hast no part with me.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">To</span> comprehend the full meaning of these -words (which, as we shall see, are of no small -importance) we must carefully attend to the -circumstances of the history, which gave occasion -to them.</p> - -<p>The chapter begins thus—<i>Now before the -feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that -his hour was come, that he should depart out</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span> -<i>of this world to the Father, having loved his -own, which were in the world, he loved them -to the end.</i>—</p> - -<p>We are prepared by these words to expect -something, on the part of our Lord, very expressive -of his love for his Disciples.</p> - -<p>The <i>season</i>, too, is critical, and must excite -our attention: <i>it was before the feast of -the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour -was come, that he should depart out of this -world to the Father</i>; in other words, just before -his crucifixion.</p> - -<p>There is, indeed, some difficulty in fixing -the precise time, when the transaction, now -to be related, happened. I take no part in -the disquisition, because it is not material to -my purpose, and would divert me too much -from it. It is enough to say, that it was at -most, but the evening before the Paschal supper -was celebrated, and therefore but two days -before Jesus suffered.</p> - -<p>The history proceeds—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span>“<i>And supper being -ended</i> (or rather, as the text should have -been translated, <i>the time of supper being</i> - -<i>come</i><a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">76</a>) <i>the Devil having now put it into the -heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him, -Jesus knowing that the Father had -given all things into his hands, and that he -was come from God and went to God; he -riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments, -and took a towel and girded himself. -After that, he poureth water into a bason, -and began to wash the Disciples feet, and to -wipe them with the towel wherewith he was -girded.</i>”</p> - -<p>Thus far all is clear. Jesus condescended -to <i>wash the feet of his Disciples</i>; a ministry, -very common in the East, and usually performed -by servants, in discharge of their duty -towards their masters, or, by inferiors, at -least, in testimony of respect towards their superiors; -as is abundantly plain from many -instances.</p> - -<p>This then was <small>ONE</small> end of this <i>washing</i>. -Our Saviour meant it as a lesson of humility -and condescension to his Disciples. But was -it the <small>ONLY</small>, or the <i>chief</i> end? That is the point -we are now to consider. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span></p> - -<p>Let it be remembered, then, that nothing -was more familiar with the Jews, than to convey -an information to others, especially if that -information was of importance, by natural, -rather than artificial signs, I mean by <i>deeds</i>, -rather than <i>words</i>; as every one knows, who -has but dipped into the history and writings -of the Old and New Testament. The transaction -before us, if understood <i>only</i> as a lesson -of humility, is a lesson conveyed to the Disciples -in this form<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">77</a>.</p> - -<p>Now, this way of <i>information by action</i> was -occasionally made to serve <small>TWO</small> contrary purposes: -either to give more force and emphasis -to an instruction; or, to cloathe it with some -degree of obscurity, or even ambiguity. For -<i>actions</i>, speaking to the eye, when the purpose -of them is by any means clearly ascertained, -convey the most lively and expressive information: -on the other hand, when it is not, they -are somewhat obscure, one thing being to be -collected by us from another: or the information -is even ambiguous, as the action may signify -more things than one. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span></p> - -<p>Sometimes, the primary sense is declared, -or easily understood; while, yet, a secondary -sense, a less apparent one, but more momentous, -is, also, intended.</p> - -<p>This, upon inquiry, may be the case before -us. Christ’s <i>washing the feet of his Disciples</i> -obviously conveys this instruction, which -is asserted, too, in express words—that, <i>as he, -their Lord and master, washed their feet, so -they ought also to wash one another’s feet</i><a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">78</a>. -But <i>another</i>, and far more important, instruction -<i>may</i> be conveyed in this action, though it -be not so fully and explicitly declared. It -<i>may</i>, I say, be conveyed: from laying all circumstances -together, we shall be able to form -a judgment, whether it were, indeed, in the -Agent’s <i>intention</i> to convey it.</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, as I said, the narrative of this transaction -(which, take it as you will, was clearly -designed to be an <i>information by action</i>) is -prefaced in a very extraordinary manner. -<i>Jesus, knowing that his hour was come—knowing -too that the Father had given all -things into his hands, and that he was come -from God, and went to God</i>, proceeded—to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span> -do what? Why, to give his disciples a lesson -of humility and charity, in washing their feet. -The Lesson, no doubt, was important; and -becoming the character of their divine master. -But does it rise up to those <i>ideas</i> of importance, -which we are prepared to entertain of an action, -performed at such a time, and so awfully introduced? -<i>His hour was come—the Father -had given all things into his hands—he came -from God, and was now going to God.</i> All -this announces something beyond and above a -common lecture of morality; something, which -might be a suitable close to the instructions of -such a teacher.</p> - -<p>Let us see, <i>next</i>, how the action is received. -One of the disciples, Peter, surprized at his -Lord’s condescension, says very naturally, <i>Lord, -dost thou wash my feet?</i> Jesus, to remove -his scruples, replies, <i>What I do, thou knowest -not now, but thou shalt know hereafter</i>. The -words are ambiguous, and may mean, “Thou -shalt know, <i>immediately</i>, from the explication -I am about to give of this action;” or, -“thou shalt know <i>hereafter</i>, in due time, and -by other means,” what the purport of it is. -Still Peter, not satisfied with this answer, but -confounded at the apparent indignity of Christ’s -condescension, replies resolutely, <i>Thou shalt</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span> -<i>never wash my feet</i>. This resistance was to -be overcome, that the <i>information</i>, whatever -it was, might take place, by the performance -of that which was the vehicle of it. Jesus -answers, therefore, more directly and solemnly, -<span class="smcap">If I wash thee not, thou hast no part -with me</span>—Which words, whether understood -by Peter or not, were clearly seen to have <i>some</i> -meaning of the last concern to him; and, -struck with this apprehension, he submits.</p> - -<p>But what! taking these oracular words, in -the sense only in which Jesus thought fit to -explain them, we hardly see the force and propriety -of them. For, had Peter <i>no part with -Jesus</i>, that is, was he incapable of receiving -any benefit from him, unless he had this ceremony -of washing, performed upon him, when -that ceremony had no further use or meaning, -than to convey a moral lesson? If he had not -learnt <i>this</i> lesson from Christ, he might have -learnt many <i>others</i>: or, he might have learnt -<i>this</i>, some other way: and taking it in either -light, he might still be said to <i>have some part</i> -with Jesus, though he had not been <i>washed</i> -by him.</p> - -<p>The true import, then, of these enigmatic -words, and of the whole transaction which is -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span> -here recorded, begins to appear, and is further -opened by the sequel of Peter’s conversation -with Jesus. For, understanding, that this <i>ablution</i> -was, some way so necessary to him, -Peter subjoins, <i>Not my feet only, but also my -hands and my head</i>. Jesus saith to him, <i>He -that is washed, needeth not, save to wash his -feet, and is clean every whit; and ye are clean, -but not all; for he knew who should betray -him: therefore said he, Ye are not all clean</i>.</p> - -<p>It was, we see, the uncleanness of sin, or -the <i>filth of an evil conscience</i>, which was to be -taken away by this washing. More than a -single moral lesson, how excellent soever, was, -therefore, couched in this act; indeed, the -necessity and efficacy of <small>CERTAIN MEANS</small>, by -which mankind were, in general, to be cleansed -from sin, was that which was ultimately and -mainly signified by it. He that was <i>thus washed, -was clean every whit</i>; and the <i>information</i> of -this benefit being the end of the washing, it -was enough if that was conveyed by washing -any one part.</p> - -<p>You see at length to what all this tends. -Jesus, knowing the secret treachery of Judas, -and, by the divine spirit which was in him, -foreseeing the destined effect of that treachery; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span> -knowing, that he was now, forthwith, to suffer -death upon the cross, the purpose, for which -he came from God, and for the execution of -which he only waited before he returned to -him; considering, withal, the immense benefit, -which was to accrue to mankind from his voluntary -devotion of himself to this death, and -that the eternal Father, for the sake of it, <i>had -given all things into his hands</i>, had given him -the power to redeem all the sons of Adam from -the vassalage of sin and death, by virtue of that -BLOOD which he was now to pour out upon -the cross, as a propitiation for them; Jesus, I -say, foreseeing and considering all this, chose -this critical season, when <i>his hour was now -come</i>, to signify by the ceremony of washing -his disciples feet<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">79</a>, the efficacy and value of his -own precious blood, by which alone they, and -all mankind, were to have all their sins purged -and washed away for ever.</p> - -<p>This was apparently the momentous instruction, -which it was our Lord’s purpose to convey -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span> -in this transaction. He would, <i>first</i>, shew -that we were to be washed in his blood; and -<i>then</i>, subordinately, that we were to follow his -example in a readiness <i>to do as he had done</i>; -that is, not only to <i>wash</i> each other, but, emblematically -still, to lay down our lives and -pour out our blood, if need be, for the sake -of the brethren. All circumstances concur to -assure us, that such was the real secret intent -of this mysterious washing; and thus, at length, -we understand the full purport of those words—<i>If -I wash thee not, thou hast no part with -me</i><a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">80</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span></p> - -<p>If it be still said, that Jesus explains his own -purpose differently, it is enough to reply, that -these emblematic actions were generally significative -of more things, than one; and that -the manner of Jesus was, on other occasions, -to enforce that instruction, which was not the -primary one in his intention<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">81</a>: the reason of -which conduct was founded in this rule, so -constantly observed by him, of conveying information -to his disciples, only, <i>as they were -able to bear it</i><a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">82</a>. In a word, he gave them -many instructions, and <i>this</i>, among the rest, -darkly and imperfectly, because they could not -then bear a stronger light; but yet with such -clearness as might, afterwards, let them into -his purpose; leaving it to the Holy Ghost -(whose peculiar province it was) to illuminate -their minds, in due time; to reveal all that -had been obscurely intimated; and to open -the full meaning of his discourses and actions, -as well as to <i>bring them all to their remembrance</i><a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">83</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span></p> - -<p>From this memorable part of the Gospel-history, -thus opened and explained, we may -draw some important conclusions.</p> - -<p>1. <span class="smcap">First</span>, we learn, if the comment here -given be a just one, That <i>the blood of Christ</i> -(so an Apostle hath expressed himself) <i>cleanseth -us from all sin</i><a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">84</a>: I mean, that the death -of Christ was a true, proper, and real propitiation -for our sins; and not a mere figure, or -tropical form of speech; as too many, who -call themselves Christians, conceive of it. For -the pertinence and propriety of the representative -action, performed by our Lord, is founded -in this supposition, “That the blood of Christ -was necessary to our purification, and that, but -for our being <i>washed in his blood</i><a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">85</a>, we should -be yet in our sins.” Jesus himself, in explaining -this transaction, so far as he thought fit to -explain it, confines us to this idea. For in this -sense, only, is it true—<i>that we, who are -washed, are clean every whit</i>—and, that <i>unless -we are washed by Christ, we have no part -with him</i>.</p> - -<p>Such, then, is the information given us in -this ceremony of <i>washing the disciples feet</i>; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span> -and not in this, only. For, besides the present -emblematic act, performed by our Lord, -for the special benefit of his disciples, the <small>TWO</small> -Sacraments, it is to be observed, were purposely -instituted, for the general use of his church, -to hold forth to us an image of his <i>efficacious -blood</i>, poured out for us: the sacrament of -<span class="smcap">Baptism</span>, by the reference it had (like this act) -to the typical <i>washings</i> of the Law; and the -sacrament of the <span class="smcap">Lord’s supper</span>, as referring, -in like manner, to the typical <i>sacrifices</i> of that -dispensation. Of such moment, in the view -of our Lord himself, was this doctrine of <i>propitiation</i>! -And so careful, or rather anxious, -was he, that this consolatory idea of <i>redemption -through his</i> <small>BLOOD</small><a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">86</a> (suggested in so -many ways, and in so striking a manner) -should be always present to us!</p> - -<p>Nor were his Apostles (let me, further, remark) -less intent in prosecuting this design. -For they insist every-where, and with a singular -emphasis—that <i>Christ, our passover, is -sacrificed for us</i><a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">87</a>—and that <i>we are</i> <small>WASHED</small>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span> -<i>and sanctified, and saved, by the sprinkling -of the blood of Jesus</i><a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">88</a>.</p> - -<p>Go now, then, and say, that the <i>blood</i> of -Christ is only a metaphor, and means no more -in the mouth of a Christian, than it might be -supposed to do in that of an honest heathen, -who should say, That he had been <i>saved</i>, or -benefited in a moral way, by the <i>blood</i>, that is, -the exemplary death, of Socrates!—When we -speak of its <i>washing</i> away sin, it is true, we -use the term <i>washing</i> metaphorically (for <i>sin</i> -is not literally washed): but the scriptures are -unintelligible, and language itself has no -meaning, if <i>the blood of the lamb slain</i> had -not a true, direct, and proper efficacy (considered -in the literal sense of <i>blood</i>) in freeing us -from the <i>guilt</i> of sin, or, in other words, from -the <i>punishment</i> of it.</p> - -<p>2. <span class="smcap">A second</span> conclusion may be drawn, more -particularly, from the words of the text—<i>if I -wash thee not, thou hast no part with me</i>. -For, if these words mean, as I have endeavoured -to shew, and as, I think, they must -mean, that we are redeemed only by the <i>blood</i> -of Christ; and if, as the context seems to -speak, it is in our power to forfeit this benefit, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span> -by refusing to be <i>washed</i> by his blood, that is, -to accept the deliverance, offered to us, <i>through -faith in his blood</i><a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">89</a>: it follows, that there is -something very alarming in the condition of -those persons, who hold out against all the -calls of Grace, and obstinately persist in a state -of infidelity. In vain have they recourse to -natural religion, or to any other supposed -means of purification and salvation. In vain -do they trust even to the moral part of the -Gospel, while they reject or disbelieve the rest. -They must be washed by <i>Christ</i>, if they desire -<i>to have any part with him</i>; they must -place their entire hope and confidence in the -<i>blood</i> of the covenant, who would share in the -blessings of it.</p> - -<p>Nay, more than this: the Redeemer is <i>outraged</i> -by this refusal to comply with the gracious -terms of his salvation. And, though -some may make slight of <i>having no part with -Christ</i>, it may concern them to reflect, what -it is to <i>have a portion with unbelievers</i><a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">90</a>.</p> - -<p>3. <span class="smcap">Lastly</span>, and above all, I conclude, that -they, who are <i>washed</i>, and, in consequence of -that washing, trust to <i>have a part with Christ</i>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span> -as they can never be enough thankful for the -inestimable benefit, they have received, so -they can never be enough careful to retain, and -to improve it. If we, who have once embraced -the faith, revolt from it; or, while we -make a shew of professing the faith, pollute -ourselves again with those sins, from which we -have been cleansed; nay, if we do not strive -to purify our hearts and minds still more and -more by the continual efficacy of a lively faith -in Jesus; if, in any of these ways, we be in -the number of those, <i>who draw back unto perdition</i>, -what further sacrifice remains for us, -or what hope have we in that, which has -been already offered?</p> - -<p>Judas himself, be it remembered, was <i>washed</i> -among the other Disciples; yet he was not -<i>clean</i>, for all that, nor had he <i>any part</i> with -Jesus. What can this mean, but that something -is to be done, on <i>our</i> part, when the -Redeemer has done <i>his</i>? and that the permanent -effect of this <i>washing</i>, as to any particular -person, depends on his care to keep those -<i>robes white</i>, which have been <i>washed in the -blood of the lamb</i><a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">91</a>? -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span></p> - -<p>The account, and the conclusion, of the -whole matter, is plainly this—<i>If we say that -we have fellowship with him, and walk in -darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: but, -if we walk in the light, as he is in the -light, then have we fellowship with him, -and</i> <small>HIS BLOOD CLEANSETH US FROM ALL SIN</small><a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">92</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XI">SERMON XI.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED JUNE 20, 1773.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Mark</span> ix. 49.</h3> - -<p><i>For every one shall be salted with fire, and -every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is generally esteemed one of the most -difficult passages in the four Gospels. I confess, -I take no pleasure in commenting on such -passages, especially in this place; because the -comment only serves, for the most part, to -gratify a learned curiosity, and is, otherwise, -of small use.</p> - -<p>But, when a difficult text of Scripture can -be explained, and the sense, arising out of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span> -explanation, is edifying and important, then -it falls properly within our province to exert -our best pains upon it.</p> - -<p>This I take to be the case of the difficulty -before us, which therefore I shall beg leave to -make the subject of the present discourse.</p> - -<p>There are <small>TWO</small> very different interpretations, -of which the words are capable: and they shall -both of them be laid before you, that ye may -adopt either as ye think fit; or even reject -them both, if ye do not find them sufficiently -supported.</p> - -<p>To enable you to go along with me in what -follows, and to judge of either interpretation, -whether it be reasonable or not, it is necessary -to call your attention to the preceding verses of -this chapter, to which the text refers, and by -which it is introduced.</p> - -<p>Our blessed Lord (for the words, I am about -to explain, are <i>his</i>) had been discoursing to his -Disciples on <i>offences</i>, or <i>scandals</i>; that is, -such instances of ill-conduct, such indulgences -of any favourite and vicious inclination, as -tended to obstruct the progress of the Gospel, -and were likely to prevent either themselves, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span> -or others, from embracing, or holding fast, -the faith. Such offences, it was foreseen, -would come: <i>but woe to that man</i> (as we read -in the parallel passage of St. Matthew’s Gospel) -<i>by whom the offence cometh</i><a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">93</a>.</p> - -<p>And, to give the greater effect to this salutary -denunciation, our Saviour proceeds, in -figurative, indeed, but very intelligible terms, -to enforce the necessity of being on our guard -against such <i>offences</i>, what pain soever it might -cost us to subdue those passions, from which -they were ready to spring. No virtue of self-denial -was too great to be attempted in such a -cause. A <i>hand</i>, a <i>foot</i>, an <i>eye</i>, were to be -<i>cut off</i>, or <i>plucked out</i>; that is, inclinations, as -necessary and as dear to us, as those members -of the body, were to be suppressed or rejected -by us, rather than the <i>woe</i>, denounced against -the indulgence of them, be incurred. This -woe is, that the offenders should be cast into -hell-fire, <i>where their worm dieth not, and the -fire is not quenched</i>: and it is subjoined <i>three -times</i>, in the same awful words, to so many -instances of supposed criminal indulgence, in -the case alledged; or rather, to one and the -<i>same</i> species of ill-conduct, differently modified, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span> -and, to make the greater impression upon us, -represented under three distinct images. After -the last repetition of it, the text immediately -follows—<i>for every one shall be salted with fire, -and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt</i>.</p> - -<p>I. Now, taken in this connexion, the words -<i>may</i> clearly, and, according to our ideas, of -interpretation, most naturally <i>do</i>, admit this -sense; that the offenders, spoken of, shall be -preserved entire to suffer the punishment -threatened, though it might seem that they -would, in no long time, be totally destroyed -by it: as if our Lord had expressed himself -thus—“I have repeated this woe three times, -to shew you the degree and duration of it, as -well as the certainty of its execution; <i>the worm -shall not die</i>, that is, the sense of suffering -shall continue, even in circumstances, which -may seem proper and likely to put an end to -it: for such, as are worthy to be cast into this -fire, shall be <i>salted</i>, or preserved from wasting -(salt being the known emblem of <i>incorruption</i>, -and thence of <i>perpetuity</i>) by the very fire -itself. And [you may easily conceive how this -shall be, <i>for</i>] <i>every sacrifice</i>, the flesh of -every animal to be offered up to God in your -Jewish sacrifices, is kept sound and fit for use -by being (as the Law directs in that case) -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span> -<i>salted with salt</i>. Just so, the <i>fire itself</i> shall act -on these victims of the divine justice: like <i>salt</i>, -sprinkled on your legal victims, it shall preserve -these offenders entire, and in a perpetual -capacity of subsisting to that use, to which -they are destined.”</p> - -<p>Now, if such be the sense of the words, they -contain the fullest and most decisive proof of -that tremendous doctrine, <i>the eternity of future -punishments</i>, which is any where to be -met with in Scripture. For the words, being -given as a reason and explanation of the doctrine, -are not susceptible of any vague interpretation, -like the words <i>eternal</i> or <i>everlasting</i>, -in which it is usually expressed; but -must necessarily be understood, as implying -and affirming the literal truth of the thing, for -which they would account. And, this being -supposed, you see the use, the unspeakable -importance, of this text, as addressed to all believers -in Jesus. But,</p> - -<p>II. There is another sense, of which the -text is capable: and, if you think it not allowable -to deduce a conclusion of such dreadful -import from words of an ambiguous signification, -you will incline perhaps (as it is natural for -us to do) to this more favourable interpretation, -which I am going to propose. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span></p> - -<p>I observed, that the text, as read in connexion -with the preceding verse, is most naturally, -according to our ideas of interpretation, -to be understood, as I have already explained -it. But, what is the most <i>natural</i>, according -to our modern rules and principles of construction, -is not always the <i>true</i>, sense of passages -in ancient oriental writers (who did not affect -our accuracy of connexion), and particularly -in the writers of the New Testament.</p> - -<p>To give a remarkable instance in a discourse -of our Lord himself. He had prescribed to his -disciples that form of prayer, which we know -by the name of the <i>Lord’s prayer</i>, consisting -of several articles; the last of which is—<i>for -thine is the kingdom, and the power and the -glory for ever</i><a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">94</a>. Now, to this concluding -sentence of his prayer he immediately subjoins -these words—<small>FOR</small> <i>if we forgive men -their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will -also forgive you</i>. But, from the illative particle, -<i>for</i>, according to our notions of exact -composition, was to be expected a reason, or -illustration, of the <i>immediately foregoing</i> -clause, the <i>doxology</i>, which shuts up this -prayer: whereas, the words, which that particle -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span> -introduces, have respect to another and -<i>remote</i> clause in the same prayer, namely, -<i>forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors</i><a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">95</a>, -and express the ground and reason, only, of -that petition.</p> - -<p>In like manner, the illation expressed in the -text—<small>FOR</small> <i>every one shall be salted with fire, -and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt</i>—may -not be intended to respect the preceding -words—<i>where the worm dieth not, and the -fire is not quenched</i>—but something else, -which had been advanced in our Lord’s discourse, -though at some distance from the text; -and possibly, the general scope or <i>subject</i> of it. -Consider, then, what that subject is. It is -necessary, our Lord tells his disciples, for -such as would escape the woes, threatened, -and approve themselves faithful followers of -him, to subdue or renounce their most favourite -inclinations, by which they might be, -at any time, tempted to <i>offend</i>, though the -pain of this self-denial should be ever so grievous -to them.</p> - -<p>To reconcile their minds to this harsh doctrine, -he may then be supposed to resume that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span> -topic, and to <i>justify</i> the advice, which, with -so much apparent severity, he had given them. -And then we may conceive him to speak to this -effect:</p> - -<p>“I have said, you must not regard the <i>uneasiness</i>, -which the conduct, I require of you, -will probably occasion. For <i>every one</i>, that -is, every true Christian, <i>every one</i> that is consecrated -to my service, and would escape the -punishment by <i>fire</i>, in the world to come, -<i>shall be salted with fire</i>, in the present world; -that is, shall be tried with sufferings of one -kind or other, can only expect to be continued -in a sound and uncorrupt state, by <i>afflictions</i>; -which must search, cleanse, and purify your -lives and minds, just as <i>fire</i> does those bodies, -which it refines, by consuming all the dross -and refuse, contained in them. The process -may be violent, but the end is most desirable, -and even necessary. <i>And</i>, that it is so, ye -may discern from the wisdom of your own -Law, which requires that <i>every sacrifice</i>, fit -to be offered up to God in the temple-service, -<i>shall be salted with salt</i>; that is, preserved -from putrefaction, and even all approaches to -it, by the application of that useful, though -corroding substance. Now, the <i>fire</i> of affliction -shall be to your moral natures, what <i>salt</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span> -is to the animal. It may agitate and torment -your minds, but it shall eat all the principles -of corruption out of them, and so keep them -clean and untainted; as is fit, considering the -heavenly use that is to be made of them, it -being your duty, and even interest, to present -them, as <i>a sacrifice acceptable and well pleasing -to God</i><a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">96</a>.”</p> - -<p>In this way, you see, the text is reasonably -explained of <i>moral discipline</i> in this world, not -of future <i>punishment</i>. What may be thought -to occasion some little difficulty, or, at least, -particularity, in the mode of writing, is, that -<i>one</i> metaphor seems here employed to explain -<i>another</i>. But we should rather conceive of -the two metaphors, as employed, jointly and -severally, to express this moral sentiment—‘That -affliction contributes to preserve and improve -our virtue.’ The allusion to the effects -of <i>salt</i> was exceedingly obvious and natural in -the mouth of a Jew, addressing himself to -Jews<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">97</a>. Not but it was common enough, too, -in Gentile writers<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">98</a>. And the other allusion -to the effects of <i>fire</i> (though the two figures -are in a manner run together by speaking of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span> -the <i>subject</i>, to which they are applied, as -<i>salted</i> with fire). This allusion, I say, to <i>fire</i>, -is justified by the familiar use of it, in the sacred -writings. For thus we are told, <i>that fire -must try every man’s work</i><a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">99</a>—that <i>our faith -is tried, as gold by fire</i><a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">100</a>—that <i>a fiery trial -must try us</i><a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">101</a>—that, <i>as gold is tried in the -fire</i>, so are <i>acceptable men in the furnace of -adversity</i><a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">102</a>—and in other instances.</p> - -<p>Of <i>both</i> these natural images, it may be -affirmed, that they are not unusually applied -to moral subjects: and, if we thus <i>apply</i> them -in the text, the <i>use</i> to ourselves, according to -this interpretation, is considerable and even -important; no less, than the seeing enforced, -in the most lively manner, and by our Saviour -himself, this great moral and evangelical lesson—<i>that -the virtue of a good mind must be -maintained at whatever expence of trouble and -self-denial</i>—and for this plain reason, because, -though <i>no chastening for the present seem to -be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless, afterward, -it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness -unto them, which are exercised -thereby</i><a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">103</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span></p> - -<p>And, that such is probably the true sense -of the text, we have been considering, may -further be concluded from the light it throws -on the following and last verse of this chapter; -the meaning of which will now be very plain -and consequential, as may be shewn in few -words.</p> - -<p>For, having spoken of <i>Christian discipline</i> -under the name of <i>salt</i>, which <i>preserves</i> what -it searches, our Lord very naturally takes advantage -of this idea, and transfers the appellation -to <i>Christian faith</i>, which was necessary -to support his followers under that discipline, -and has this property, in common with <i>salt</i>, -that it gives soundness and incorruption to the -subject on which it operates. <i>Salt</i>, says he, <i>is -good: but, if salt have lost its saltness, wherewith -will ye season it?</i> That is, <i>faith in me</i> -(for by <i>salt</i>, you easily perceive, I now mean -that faith, which is your true <i>seasoning</i>, and -can alone maintain your firmness and integrity -under all trials; this <i>faith</i>, I say) is a salutary -principle: but take notice, if you suffer that -principle, so active and efficacious, to decay -and lose its virtue, there are no means left to -retrieve it. Like <i>salt</i>, grown insipid, it can -never recover its former quality, but is for ever -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span> -worthless and useless<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">104</a>. Therefore, adds he, -take care to <i>have</i>, that is, retain, this <i>salt</i>, this -good seasoning of your Christian principles, <i>in -yourselves</i>; which will preserve you incorrupt, -as individuals: and, as <i>salt</i>, from its necessary -use at the table, is further an emblem of union -and friendship, give proof of these principles -in your intercourse with all Christians, so as to -keep <i>peace one with another</i>; for, by this -<i>seasoning</i> of peace, ye will best preserve yourselves -entire, as <i>a body of men</i>, or society<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">105</a>.</p> - -<p>We see, then, that understanding this <i>fire</i>, -with which <i>every one shall be salted</i>, of the -fire of <i>affliction</i> only, which, like salt, is to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span> -try and preserve the moral integrity of all believers, -and not of the <i>fire which dieth not</i>, -and, according to the former interpretation, -was to preserve <i>offenders</i> in a perpetual capacity -of enduring future punishment; understanding, -I say, this metaphor in the former -sense, we have an easy, elegant, and extremely -useful sense in the words of the text: a sense, -which perfectly agrees with what precedes the -text, and illustrates what follows it: whereas, -in the other way of explaining these words, it -will be difficult to shew their coherence with -the subsequent verse, though they admit an application -to the foregoing.</p> - -<p>On the whole, I leave it to yourselves to -judge, which of the two interpretations, now -proposed to you, is the proper one. I know -of no other, that so well deserves your notice, -as these two: and, if <i>either</i> of them be admissible, -we have gained the satisfaction of understanding -a very obscure passage of holy Scripture. -But we have gained more, than this: -for, whichever we prefer, a momentous inference -may be drawn from it. <span class="smcap">Either</span>, we must -resolve to stick close to our <span class="smcap">Christian faith -and principles</span>, as the only means of preserving -our integrity, and making us fit for the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span> -favour of God, to whatever trials of any kind -they may expose us: OR, we shall have to -reflect, what <small>SUFFERING</small>, terrible beyond imagination, -is reserved for obstinately impenitent -and incorrigible sinners. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XII">SERMON XII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 9, 1766.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Gal.</span> vi. 3.</h3> - -<p><i>If a man think himself to be something, when -he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is one of those many passages in the -sacred writings, in which the simplicity of the -expression is apt to make us overlook the -profound sense contained under it. Who -doubts, it may be said, the truth of so general -an axiom, as this? and what information, worth -treasuring up in the memory, is conveyed by it?</p> - -<p>In answer to such questions, as these, it -may be observed, That the inspired writers -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span> -are not singular in this practice; the moral -wisdom of all nations, and, in particular, that -of the ancient Pagan sages (whom these objectors, -no doubt, reverence) being usually -conveyed in such large and general aphorisms: -and, further, that many good reasons may be -given for this mode of instruction.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First</span>, <i>the necessity of the thing</i>, in times, -when men have not been accustomed to refine -on moral subjects: it is also <i>necessary</i> in another -sense, in order to convey the rules of life -in some reasonable compass. Good sense in -moral matters is but the experience of observing -men, the result of which must be given -in compendious parcels or collections; otherwise -the memory is loaded too much; besides -that neither the leisure, nor the talents of those, -for whom these lessons are designed, will serve -for nicer disquisitions.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Secondly</span>, if this <i>mode</i> of teaching were not -necessary, it would still be preferable to any -other for its <i>own proper dignity</i>. A philosopher -in the schools, or a divine in his closet, -may deduce the laws of morality with a minute -exactness. But the authority of an Apostle -disdains this care, and awakens the consciences -of men by some <i>general</i> precept, by some large -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span> -and <i>comprehensive</i> observation. It becomes -the majesty of his character to deliver the -principles of right conduct in <i>few and weighty -words</i>: his precepts are <i>Laws</i>; and his observations, -<i>Oracles</i>: it is for others to speculate -upon them with curiosity, and draw them out -into systems.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thirdly</span>, sometimes the very address of a -writer leads him to <i>generalize</i> his observations. -It is, when a more direct and pointed manner -would press too closely on the mind, and, by -making the application necessary, indispose us -to conviction; whereas, when a reproof presents -itself in this form, less offence is likely to -be given by it, the application being left, in a -good degree, to ourselves.</p> - -<p>This last, we shall find, was the case of St. -Paul in the text; in whose behalf, therefore, -we need not, in the present instance, plead the -<i>necessity</i>, the <i>convenience</i>, or the <i>dignity</i> of -this method of instruction; though these reasons, -we see, might, on other occasions, be -very justly alledged.</p> - -<p>For, to come now to the aphorism in the -text—<i>If a man think himself to be something, -when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself</i>—as -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span> -trivial as this general truth may appear at first -sight, we shall perceive, by turning to the context, -that the inspired writer applies it with -infinite address to mortify the pride of some -persons, against whom the tenour of his discourse -is there directed. For certain false -teachers, it seems, had very early crept into -the churches of <i>Galatia</i>, who arrogated a superior -wisdom to themselves, and, on the credit -of this claim, presumed to impose the yoke -of Jewish ordinances on the Gentile converts: -in direct opposition to the injunctions of the -Apostle, who had lately planted these churches; -and in manifest violation of Christian charity, -which forbad those grievous burthens to be laid -on the consciences of believers.</p> - -<p>One natural feature in the character of these -vain-glorious boasters, was the contempt with -which they treated the more infirm Christians, -and the little consideration they had for such -of their brethren as happened to be <i>overtaken -with any fault</i>. This proud, unchristian temper -he therefore takes upon him to correct—<i>Brethren</i>, -says he, <i>if any man be overtaken -with a fault, you, that are spiritual, restore -such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering -thyself, lest thou also be tempted: Bear -ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span> -<i>of Christ</i>. And then follows the observation -of the text—<i>for, if a man think himself to be -something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth -himself</i>: leaving the conceited Doctors and -their admirers to apply these general words, as -they saw fit; but clearly enough pointing to -some persons among them, <i>who took themselves -to be something</i>, and yet miserably <i>deceived -themselves</i>, in that, indeed, they <i>were -nothing</i>. In what respects their conduct -shewed them to be so, he leaves to their own -sagacity, quickened by the poignancy of this -covert reproof, to find out.</p> - -<p>Such is the Apostle’s <i>address</i> in this divine -admonition; and such the <i>force</i> (the greater, -<i>for</i> the address) of the reprehension conveyed -in it!</p> - -<p>But now, what those <small>RESPECTS</small> are, in which -these sufficient men shewed themselves <i>to be -nothing</i>, though St. Paul thought it not fit to -specify them to the <i>Galatians</i>, it may be <i>useful -to us</i>, as it certainly is left <i>free</i> for us, to -inquire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First</span>, then, their very <i>Conceit</i> was a certain -argument of their <i>Folly</i>. For, what surer -indication of a weak and shallow man, than -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span> -his proneness to think highly of himself! Wise -men understand themselves at another rate. -They are too conscious of their own infirmities; -they know their judgment to be too fallible, -their apprehension too slow, their knowledge -too scanty, their wills too feeble, and their -passions too strong, to give way to this insolent -exultation of heart, to indulge in this conceit -of their own importance, and much less to form -injurious comparisons between themselves and -others. They understand, that the only question -is concerning the different degrees of <i>weakness -and imperfection</i>; and that, where the -best come far short of what they should be, all -pretence of boasting is cut off.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Secondly</span>, these superior airs of importance -were unsuitable to the nature of their religion, -and shewed how little proficiency they had -made in it; <small>BECAUSE</small>, as <i>Christians</i>, whatever -light and knowledge they laid claim to, they -must needs confess was not their own, but derived -to them from above. All, these spiritual -men could pretend to know of divine things, -had been freely and solely revealed to them by -the Spirit of God; a distinction, which ought -indeed to fill their hearts with gratitude, but -could be no proper foundation of their pride or -vain-glory. For, as the Apostle himself argues -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span> -in another place, <i>Who maketh thee to differ -from another? And what hast thou, which -thou didst not receive? Now, if thou didst -receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou -hadst not received it<a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">106</a>?</i></p> - -<p>Whatever temptation, therefore, there might -be to a poor vain heathen to pride himself in -his pittance of knowledge or virtue, a <span class="smcap">Christian</span> -should, by the very principles of his -religion, be more modest, and ascribe his proficiency -in either, not to himself, but to the -indulgent favour and good pleasure of God.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thirdly</span>, these boasters betrayed themselves -by the <i>fruits</i>, which this self-importance produced, -namely, their contemptuous and unfeeling -treatment of their brethren under any -instance of their weakness and frailty. Such -behaviour was doubly ridiculous: <i>first</i>, as it -implied an ignorance of their own infirmity, -and liableness to temptation; and, <i>then</i>, as it -argued a total want of <i>Charity</i>, the most essential -part of their religion, without which a man -is <i>nothing</i>, whatever gifts and graces of other -kinds he may possess<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">107</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Fourthly</span>, whatever merit a man may possess, -this fond complacency of mind can hardly -fail to <i>deprive</i> him of it. For this conceit of -his own sufficiency puts him off his guard, and -makes him more liable to fall into any <i>misconduct</i>, -when, apprehending no danger to himself, -he employs no care; just as nothing is -more fatal to an army, than a confidence in its -own strength, inducing a neglect of that watchfulness -and discipline, by which alone its security -can be maintained.</p> - -<p>This sufficiency also leads to <i>ignorance</i>, as -well as misconduct, by cutting off all hopes of -further improvement. For he, that is proud -of his own knowledge, is not anxious to extend -it; and, indeed, does not easily apprehend -there is much room or occasion for his so doing. -Now, from the moment a man stands still, and -interrupts his intellectual, as well as moral -course, by the known constitution of things, he -necessarily goes backward; and, for his just -punishment, relapses fast into that ignorance, -in a freedom from which he had before placed -his confidence and triumph.</p> - -<p><i>Lastly</i>, this presumptuous conceit is <i>belyed</i> -in the <small>EVENT</small>, I mean in the opinion of those -very persons, to whom the vain man would -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span> -willingly recommend himself. For the natural -effect of such presumption is, to excite the -<i>contempt</i> of the wise, and the <i>envy</i> of the rest. -Men of discernment easily penetrate the delusion, -and, knowing how little reason there is -for any man to pride himself in his knowledge -or virtue, are provoked to entertain an ostentatious -display of those qualities with that ridicule, -it so well deserves: while the weaker sort -always take themselves to be insulted by superior -accomplishments; and rarely wait the just -provocation of <i>vain-glory</i> to malign and envy -those, to whom they belong.</p> - -<p>But the misfortune does not stop here. Contempt -and Envy are active and vigilant passions; -they are quick at espying a weakness, -and spare no pains to expose it: and where -can this merciless inquisition end, but in the -proud man’s mortification to see his best faculties -slighted, or traduced, and all his imperfections -laid bare and exposed? So good reason -had the Apostle to warn the Galatian teachers -against <i>vain-glory</i>, in the close of the preceding -chapter—<i>Let us</i>, says he, <i>not be vain-glorious, -provoking one another, envying one -another</i>; an exhortation which the <i>vain-glorious</i> -among them should have listened to, even for -their own sakes. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span></p> - -<p>We see, then, that, <i>in these several respects</i>, -a man, who <i>takes himself to be something</i>, -in effect proves himself <i>to be nothing</i>. -So full of instruction is the plain unpretending -aphorism in the text to the persons concerned!</p> - -<p>The Apostle adds—that such a man <small>DECEIVETH -HIMSELF</small>—which must needs be, and -cannot want to be enlarged upon; since it appears -in the very instances, in which his <i>nothingness</i> -has been shewn. The <i>vain-glorious</i> -Christian is manifestly and notoriously deceived -in <i>thinking himself something</i>—while that -very conceit shews the contrary—while it -shews that he overlooks the very principles of -his religion—while it proves him to be void of -Christian charity, the very end of the commandment—while -it betrays him into ignorance -and folly, and therefore tends to subvert -the very foundation, on which his <i>vain-glory</i> -is raised—while, lastly, in the event, it deprives -him of that very consideration to which -he aspires.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Such</span> are the mischiefs of <i>Self-conceit</i>!” -a vice, which Reason universally condemns, -but which our Christian profession renders -most contemptible and ridiculous. Even in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span> -the pursuits of <i>human</i> Science, where Reason -can do most, all the efforts of the ablest understanding -penetrate but a little way. We know -enough of <i>the nature of things</i>, to serve the -purposes of common life; and enough of <i>the -nature of man</i>, to discover our duty towards -each other. And within this narrow circle all -our knowledge, be we as proud of it as we -please, is confined. Clouds and darkness cover -the rest; and this the ablest men of all times -have seen and confessed. If there be a man, -whom Heaven has formed with greater powers -and stronger faculties than are commonly met -with in the species, he is the <i>first</i> to discover, -and to lament, his own blindness and weakness: -a Socrates and a Pascal have been considered -as prodigies of parts and ingenuity; -yet, while the meanest Sophister is puffed up -with the conceit of his own knowledge, these -divine men confess nothing so readily as their -own ignorance.</p> - -<p>And, if this be the case of human learning, -what must we think of <i>divine</i>? where Reason -teaches nothing, beyond the existence and attributes -of God, and, as to every thing else, -without the aid of <i>Revelation</i>, is stark-blind. -<i>The things of God knoweth no man but the -Spirit of God</i>—is an assertion, to which common -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span> -sense and common experience must assent. -Yet shall every idle Speculatist, who -has but the confidence to call himself a Philosopher, -treat the <i>divine word</i>, as freely as any -ordinary subject; and pronounce as peremptorily -of the <i>revealed will of God</i>, which the -Angels themselves adore in silence, as if he -knew for certain that his poor and scanty understanding -was commensurate with <i>the councils -of the most High</i>!</p> - -<p>To these professors of Science, whether human -or divine, who know so little of themselves -as to presume they know every thing, -may the Apostle’s aphorism be most fitly addressed—<i>If -a man think himself to be something, -when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself</i>;—and, -through all the simplicity of the -expression, the good sense of the observation -must be felt by the proudest understanding.</p> - -<p>Not, that the proper remedy for this evil, of -<i>Self-conceit</i>, is a vile subjection of the understanding, -which our holy Religion disdains, -and to which none but slaves will submit—nor -yet Scepticism, another vice, to which -the less sanguine disputers of this world are -much addicted—but a modest use of the faculties -we possess, and above all, <i>charity</i>. It -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> -is but another species of <i>pride</i>, to pretend that -we know nothing; <i>Christian humility</i> is best -expressed in referring, what we know, to the -good of others. Without this reference, all -our claims of superior wisdom are vain and -delusive: for it is with <i>knowledge</i>, as with faith, -unless it <i>work by charity</i>, it is nothing.</p> - -<p>To return to the text, then, and to conclude.</p> - -<p>Let the ignominy of this <i>Self-delusion</i> deter -us, if nothing else can, from the unseemly arrogance, -it so well exposes and condemns. -And let us learn to revere the wisdom of the -great Apostle, who, by couching so momentous -an admonition in so plain terms, has taught -us, That, as conceit and vain-glory terminate -in shame and disappointment; so the modesty -of unpretending knowledge may be entitled to -our highest esteem. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XIII">SERMON XIII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 16, 1773.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">2 Cor.</span> x. 12.</h3> - -<p><i>We dare not make ourselves of the number, -or compare ourselves, with some that commend -themselves: But they, measuring -themselves by themselves, and comparing -themselves among themselves, are not wise.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">I</span> shall not inquire, <i>who</i> the persons were, -to whom these words are applied. It is enough, -for the use I intend to make of them, to observe, -that they contain a censure of <i>some</i> -persons, “who, conscious of certain advantages, -and too much taken up in the contemplation -of them, came to think better of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span> -themselves, and, consequently, worse of -others, than they had reason to do; demonstrating, -by this, their partiality (as the -Apostle gently remonstrates), that <i>they were -not wise</i>.”</p> - -<p>But this censure admits a more extensive -application. <i>Measuring themselves by themselves, -and comparing themselves among themselves</i>, -whole nations, and even ages, as well -as individuals, are, sometimes, misled in the -estimate they make of their own worth; and -never more easily, or remarkably, than when -the object of their partial fondness is their proficiency -in <i>knowledge</i>, and, above all, in <i>religious -knowledge</i>: for nothing flatters the -pride of human nature so much, as an idea of -superiority in the exercise of its <i>best faculties</i>, -on the <i>noblest subjects</i>.</p> - -<p>It would be easy to illustrate this observation -by <i>many</i> examples, that have occurred in -the history of mankind. But <small>ONE</small>, only, will -sufficiently employ your thoughts at this time; -and that one (to make it the more interesting -and useful) shall be taken from <small>OURSELVES</small>.</p> - -<p>The improvements, that have been made, -for two or three centuries past, in almost every -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span> -art and science, seem to authorize the <i>present -age</i> to think with some respect, of itself. It -accordingly exults in the idea of its own wisdom: -and <i>this country</i>, in particular, which -has contributed its full share to those improvements, -may well be thought as forward, -as any other, to pay itself this tribute of self-esteem. -It would not be strange, if it appeared, -on inquiry, That some <i>presumption</i> had, in -either case, been indulged; and had even operated, -according to the <i>nature</i> of presumption, -to the prejudice of that claim, which, with so -much confidence, has been set up. But I have -now in view, only, <i>one effect</i> of this presumption; -I mean, the complacency which many -take in supposing, That the <i>present age</i> excels -equally in <i>sacred</i> and <i>secular</i> learning; and, -with regard to ourselves, That <i>our</i> theological -knowledge as much surpasses that of our forefathers -at the Reformation, as <i>their</i> knowledge -did, the thick and gross ignorance of the -monkish ages.</p> - -<p>It concerns us, for more reasons than one, -not to mistake in this matter. The direct way -to decide upon it, would, no doubt, be, To -compare the best modern writers, with the ablest -of those among the Reformers, on the subject -of religion. But, till ye have the leisure or -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span> -curiosity to make this comparison for yourselves, -ye will pay some regard, it may be, to -the following considerations; which, at least, -I think, make it questionable, whether <i>our</i> -claims, in particular (for the inquiry shall, for -the present, be confined to them), whether, I -say, <i>our</i> pretensions to religious knowledge -have not been carried too far. And,</p> - -<p>1. One is tempted to ask, whether it be -credible, that we of this age should have much -advantage over our Reformers, in respect of religious -knowledge, when both had an opportunity -of deriving it from the same source? -You will apprehend the meaning of this question, -if you reflect, that our Reformers had not -their religious system to fetch out of the dark -rolls of ancient tradition, and much less to -create, or fashion for themselves, out of their -own proper stock of ingenuity and invention. -Had such been their unhappy circumstances, -there would be reason enough to presume that -their system was defective. For the first attempts -towards perfection in any art, or science, -will not bear a comparison with those happier -and more successful efforts, which a length of -time and continued application enable men to -make. But the case of those good men, we -know, was wholly different. They had only -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span> -to copy, or, rather, to inspect, a consummate -model, made to their hands; I mean, the <i>sacred -scriptures</i>, which lay open to them, as they -do to us; and, being taken by them, as we -understand they were, for their <i>sole</i> rule of -faith, what should hinder them, when they -<i>read</i> those scriptures, from seeing as distinctly, -as we do at this day, what the Gospel-terms of -salvation are, and what <i>the erudition of a -Christian man</i> should be?</p> - -<p>Did the primitive Christians, a plain people, -and taken, for the most part, from the lowest -ranks of life, did <i>they</i> understand their religion, -when it was proposed to them, so as to have -no doubt concerning its great and leading principles; -nay, so as to be the standard of orthodoxy -to all succeeding ages of the Church? -and shall we think that the ablest Doctors at the -Reformation, when they had once turned themselves -to the study of the sacred volumes, -could be at a loss about the contents of -them?</p> - -<p>“Yes, it will, perhaps, be said; the primitive -Christians had the advantage of reading the -scriptures in the languages in which they were -composed, or of hearing them explained, at -least, by learned and well-instructed teachers: -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span> -whereas, at the Reformation, those languages -were understood by few, or none; and consequently, -in those days, there could be no persons -sufficiently skilled in the sacred scriptures -to ascertain their true meaning.”</p> - -<p>But to this charge of ignorance you will easily -reply, by asking,</p> - -<p>2. In the next place, whether it can consist -with a <i>known fact</i>, namely, That the revival of -letters had preceded the Reformation every-where, -especially in England; and that the -excellent persons who took the lead in that -work, were all of them, competently, and, -some of them, deeply, skilled in the learned -languages?</p> - -<p>Indeed, in the nature of the thing, it is scarce -possible, that the Reformers should be so little -versed, as the objection supposes, in the original -scriptures. For, whether the <i>new learning</i> -as it was called, had, or had not, been cultivated, -<i>before</i> the Reformation began, we may -be sure it would <i>then</i> be cultivated with the -utmost assiduity; both, because it was a <i>new</i> -learning, that is, because the charms of novelty -would naturally engage many in the study of -it; and, because no step could be taken in the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span> -Reformation, without some proficiency in <i>that</i> -learning. Now, if you consider, of what the -human mind is capable, when pushed on by -two such active principles, as <i>learned curiosity</i>, -and <i>religious zeal</i>, you will conclude with -yourselves, even without recurring to positive -testimony, that the Reformers must needs -have made an acquaintance with the authentic -text: <i>such</i> an acquaintance, as would let them -into a clear apprehension, at least, of those -doctrines, which are the <i>elementary</i>, as we -may say, or necessary ingredients in the constitution -of a truly Christian Church.</p> - -<p>If you hesitate about coming to this conclusion, -the reason, I suppose, is, that you -consider the Reformers as just then emerging -from the darkness of Popery, and therefore so -far blinded by the prejudices of <i>that</i> church<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">108</a>, -or by their own<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">109</a> prejudices against it, as not -to see distinctly, and at once, the true sense of -Scripture, though they might be competently -skilled in the learned languages. And, possibly, -there is some truth, as well as plausibility, -in this suggestion, as applied to the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span> -case of the foreign Protestant Churches, which -were formed with too much haste, and in a -time of too much heat, to be quite free from -all such exceptions. But, then, you will call -to mind,</p> - -<p>3. <i>Thirdly</i>, that the Reformation was not -carried on with us in a precipitate tumultuary -manner, as it was, for the most part, on the -Continent. On the other hand, it advanced, -under the eye of the magistrate, by slow degrees; -nay, it was, more than once, checked -and kept back by him. Hence it came to pass, -that there was time allowed for taking the full -benefit of all discoveries, made abroad; for -studying the chief points of controversy, with -care; and for getting rid of such mistakes, as -might arise from a hasty or passionate interpretation -of holy Scripture. In short, you will -reflect, that, between the first contentions in -Germany; on the account of Religion, and the -first establishment of it in the Church of England, -under Elizabeth, there was the space of -near half a century: a space, sufficient, you -will think (especially, if the activity of those -times be considered) to admit all the <i>improvements -of learning</i>, that were necessary to -those who had the charge of conducting the -Reformation; and all the <i>deliberate circumspection</i>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span> -with which it was fit that so great a -work should be finally completed.</p> - -<p>If it be said, “that the Reformers are convicted -of ignorance in <i>one</i> important part of -scriptural knowledge, that of <i>Toleration</i>, and -that therefore, possibly, they have erred in -others;” I reply, that this subject had never -been understood, from the first establishment -of Christianity down to the æra of the Reformation; -and that the mistakes about it had, -chiefly, arisen, not from a want of seeing what -the Scriptures had revealed, but of knowing -how to reconcile the New Testament to the -Old. If we are, now, able to do this, it is -well. In the mean time, let it be acknowledged, -that no peculiar charge of ignorance -can be brought against the Reformers for misapprehending -a subject, not only difficult in -itself, but perplexed with endless prejudices, -and not yet, as appears, quite disentangled of -them. After all, this doctrine of intolerance, -though it unhappily affected the <i>personal conduct</i> -of our Reformers, has no place in the -<span class="smcap">Liturgy</span> and <span class="smcap">Articles</span> of our Church.</p> - -<p>Still, perhaps, the main point, on which -this question, concerning the comparative skill -of the two periods, in matters of religion, turns, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span> -is yet untouched; which is, that the amazing -progress, confessedly made, since the æra of -the Reformation, in all true <i>Philosophy</i>, must -have contributed very largely to the increase of -<i>religious</i> knowledge; and that so much light -of science, as we now enjoy, must have served -to give us a clearer insight, than our benighted -ancestors had, into the <i>revealed doctrines of</i> -Christianity.</p> - -<p>But to this so flattering, and, at first view, -not improbable, assumption, it may be replied,</p> - -<p>4. In the last place, That the doctrines in -question, being <i>purely Christian</i>, that is, such -as it pleased God to reveal to mankind concerning -his eternal purpose in Christ Jesus,—that -the doctrines, I say, having this original, -and being of this nature, have, possibly, no -communication with the discoveries of later -times: that, of the divine councils, on such a -subject, we could have known nothing, if the -Revelation had been silent; and that all we <i>do</i> -know, when it speaks clearest, is only <i>what</i> -those councils are, not on what <i>grounds</i> of -reason they stand; whether it be, that such -knowledge is unattainable by our faculties, or -that it was seen to be improper for our situation: -that, to say the least, all the efforts of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span> -the ablest men to explain the peculiar fundamental -doctrines of our religion, on the principles -of our philosophy, have not hitherto -been so successful, as to make it certain that -these doctrines are indeed cognisable by human -reason: that possibly, therefore, those doctrines -are the objects of <i>faith</i>, simply, and not -of knowledge; in other words, that they are -no clearer to us at this day, than they were to -those plainer men, who lived in the sixteenth -century<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">110</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span></p> - -<p>And now, if we recollect the substance of -what has been said—That our Reformers had -only to consult the <i>Scriptures</i> for a just idea of -the Christian Religion—that they were likely -enough to <i>understand</i> those Scriptures, being -invited, or rather impelled, to the study of -them, by the most active principles of human -nature—that they <i>could not but</i> understand -those Scriptures in all the more important -points of doctrine, which they had so much -time and occasion to consider, and which there -wanted no more than a common skill in the -language of Scripture to understand—and that, -lastly, they could not have understood those -points <i>better</i>, than they did, even with all our -real or fancied skill in philosophy, because, in -truth, philosophy is not applicable to those -points, being matters of pure Revelation, and -not susceptible of any additional clearness from -the exertion of our best faculties, however improved:—If -these things, I say, are put together, -we shall conceive it possible for our -Reformers to have acquired such a knowledge, -at least, of their religion, as not to deserve that -utter contempt, with which, on a comparison -with ourselves, they are, sometimes, treated.</p> - -<p>But a single <small>FACT</small> will, perhaps, speak more -conviction to you, than all these general presumptive -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span> -reasonings. When the question is, -therefore, concerning the degree of religious -knowledge, which such men as Cranmer and -Ridley possessed, let it be remembered, “That -Erasmus (who lived and died before the English -Reformation had made any considerable -progress, and the benefit of all whose light and -knowledge those Reformers, therefore, had) -that this learned man, I say, had, in those -days, explained himself as reasonably, on almost -every great topic of revealed religion, as -any writer has since done; or is now able to do.”</p> - -<p>This <i>fact</i>, however, does not imply, that -the age of the Reformation was equally enlightened -with the present; or that the clearer -light, we enjoy, is of no service to religion. -Our improved <span class="smcap">Criticism</span> has been of use in -ascertaining the authority, and, sometimes, in -clearing the smaller difficulties, of the sacred -text; and our improved <span class="smcap">Philosophy</span> has enabled -many great men to set the evidences of -revealed religion, in a juster and stronger light: -but, with the <i>doctrines</i> themselves, our improvements, -of whatever kind, have no concern. -Be our proficiency in human science -what it may, those doctrines are the <i>same</i> still. -Reason, under any degree of cultivation, may -if we please to misapply it, perplex and corrupt -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span> -our faith; but will never be able to see to -the bottom of those <i>judgments</i>, which are -<i>unsearchable</i>, nor to clear up those <i>ways</i>, -which are <i>past finding out</i><a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">111</a>.</p> - -<p>To conclude: I am not, now, making the -panegyric of those venerable men, to whom -we are indebted for our religious establishment. -They were our inferiors, if you will, in many -respects. But, if, <i>measuring ourselves by -ourselves, and comparing ourselves among -ourselves</i>, we overlook their real abilities and -qualifications; if we pronounce them ignorant -of <i>good letters</i>, because they lived in an age, -which we have learned to call barbarous; and -ignorant of the <i>Christian religion</i>, because -they were not practised in our philosophy; we, -probably, do <small>THEM</small> great injustice, and take, -it may be, not the best method of doing honour -to <small>OURSELVES</small>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XIV">SERMON XIV.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 27, 1766.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Mark</span>, iv. 24.<br /> - -<span class="medium"><i>Take heed what ye hear.</i><br /> - -Or, as the equivalent phrase is in<br /> - -St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, viii. 18.<br /> - -<i>Take heed</i> <small>HOW</small> <i>ye hear</i>.</span></h3> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Faith</span>, says the Apostle, <i>cometh by hearing, -and hearing by the word of God</i><a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">112</a>. The assertion -was strictly true in the early days of -the Gospel, before books were yet written and -spread abroad for the edification of the Church. -The inlet of faith was, then, the <i>ear</i>: through -that organ only was conveyed, from the tongue -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span> -of the preacher, <i>the word of God</i>. But the -case is much the same at all times; even <i>now</i>, -when books are enough multiplied, and perhaps -more than enough, in the Christian world. -For, it having pleased God, that a standing -ministry should be kept up for the instruction -of mankind in <i>the faith</i>, and a <i>woe</i> being denounced -against such, as have received this -commission, and yet <i>preach not the Gospel</i><a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">113</a>, -the <i>sole</i> way by which <i>faith cometh</i> to most -men, and the <i>principal</i>, by which it cometh -to almost all, is still that of <i>hearing</i>. It is -still by the <i>word preached</i>, that men, in general, -come to the faith of Christ, and are confirmed -in the profession of it.</p> - -<p>Our Lord, then, foreseeing how much would -depend on this faculty of <i>hearing</i>, and finding -by experience how liable it was to be abused, -thought fit to give his Disciples a particular, -and what may almost seem a <i>new</i>, precept, for -their conduct in this respect. The ancient -masters of rhetoric, and of morals, had frequently -warned their scholars to take heed -what <i>they speak</i>: but our Divine Master carries -his attention still farther; and while his -ministers are required, <i>to speak, as the oracles</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span> -<i>of God</i>, the people are very properly instructed -by him, <i>to take heed what they hear</i>.</p> - -<p>Now, that this admonition may have its full -effect, it will be proper to explain the reasons, -on which it is founded; to lay before you the -several considerations which shew of what infinite -concern it is to those, who <i>hear</i> the word, -to be <i>attentive</i> in hearing.</p> - -<p>And it naturally occurs, as the</p> - -<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span> reason for this attention, that what -is spoken, is delivered to them, <i>as the word of -God</i>.</p> - -<p>When a person in high place and authority -thinks fit to honour us with a message, though -it be in a matter of no great importance, with -what submission is it received! How diligently -do we listen to it! How circumspectly is every -sentence, and even syllable, weighed! We do -not stand to make exceptions to the messenger, -who may have nothing in his own <i>person</i> to -command our respect; we do not much consider -the <i>grace</i> with which he delivers his -message; we are not curious to observe in what -<i>choice</i> or <i>elegant</i> terms it is expressed. We -are only concerned to know, that the message -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span> -has been faithfully related, and then a due regard -is immediately paid to it. And shall God -speak to us by the mouth of his ministers, in -terms which himself dictates, and which we -may verify, if we please, by comparing them -with his own <i>written word</i>,—shall, I say, the -God of Heaven thus address himself to us, and -we not <i>take heed what and how we hear</i>?</p> - -<p>Or, suppose the opinion of a man learned in -any secular profession is reported to us, on a -point which falls within his province, and of -which it concerns us to form a right apprehension, -Is not such <i>opinion</i> received with respect -by us, and studied with care?</p> - -<p>And shall our Divine Master be negligently -<i>heared</i>, when he condescends to instruct us -in the way of life and salvation, a subject, of -all others, the most interesting to us; a subject, -which he alone perfectly understands, and concerning -which he will not and cannot mislead us?</p> - -<p>Still further, besides the authority of the divine -word, there is something in the <i>nature</i> of -it, which deserves, and, if we be not wholly -insensible, must command our attention.</p> - -<p>For shall a little superficial rhetorick be listened -to with regard, perhaps with admiration? -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span> -And shall not the heart-felt truths of the Gospel -warm and affect us? Shall a few spiritless -periods, ranged in measure, and coloured with -art, mere sound and paint, throw an assembly, -sometimes, into joy or grief, or transport it -with indignation? And can we lend a careless -ear to the word of God, <i>which is quick and -powerful, and sharper than any two-edged -sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder -of soul and spirit, and a discerner of the -thoughts and intents of the heart</i><a id="FNanchor_114" href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">114</a>?</p> - -<p>Such is the attention due to the word of -God, when <i>acknowledged</i> under that character. -But</p> - -<p>II. A <small>SECOND</small> reason for <i>hearing</i> with caution, -is, that the hearers are required to judge -for themselves whether what is delivered to -them be, <i>indeed</i>, the word of God. Without -this care, impostures may be endless, and the -effect of them fatal.</p> - -<p>When we give up ourselves with an implicit -trust to others in mere temporal concerns, the -mischief, although considerable, may yet be -checked by experience; or, at most, as it respects -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span> -this life only, is not conclusive and -irreparable: but in matters of religion, if we -accept <i>that</i> as the word of God, and act upon -it, which has no higher authority than the -word of fallible and presumptuous men, we -may be led into all the visions of fanaticism or -superstition, and into all the crimes which so -naturally spring from both, to the loss of our -future, as well as present happiness.</p> - -<p>It pleased God, therefore, from the time -that miracles ceased to be the credentials of -his ministers in the Christian Church, to secure -the faithful from these dangers by the guidance -of the <i>written Word</i>; in which, besides <i>special -rules</i> there given for the trial of <i>the spirits, -whether they are of God</i>, such <i>general principles</i> -are delivered as may direct our judgment. -And by the help of these, interpreted -by the <i>tenor</i> of that word, and the <i>analogy</i> of -faith, we may be secured from all deception or -surprize.</p> - -<p>It is true, all men cannot <i>apply</i> these rules -and principles, or not with full knowledge and -effect. Woe, therefore, be to him who abuses -the incapacity of such hearers, by obtruding -on their easy belief his own fancies, as the doctrines -of God! But to the abler hearers of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span> -word, to all, indeed, who are competently instructed -in their Religion, the task is not difficult -to avoid gross and dangerous delusions, to -determine for themselves <i>whether the doctrine -be of God</i>, or not. This task, I say, is <i>not -difficult</i>; yet it implies care and circumspection; -and the necessity of discharging it must -be allowed a good argument for <i>taking heed -what we hear</i>.</p> - -<p>III. A further reason for this diligence in -<i>hearing</i> is, That the hearers are expected and -required <i>to profit by the word spoken</i>.</p> - -<p><i>The word of wisdom and of knowledge is -given to every man to profit withal</i><a id="FNanchor_115" href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">115</a>. It is -not a curious problem, a fine lecture, a trial of -wit, or play of ingenuity, calculated to entertain -us for the time, and to be laid aside and -forgotten by us again, when the occasion is -over. The ministry of the word is of another -kind, and destined to higher purposes. It is -an instrument of reproof, of exhortation, of -instruction in righteousness. <i>The sword of the -spirit</i> is put into the hands of men for no ends -of pageantry and amusement. The minister -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span> -of God <i>bears it not in vain</i>. He is entrusted -with it to smite the hearts of the wicked, to -<i>pierce through the souls</i> of unrighteous men, -and to flash conviction in the face of unbelievers. -It is an ordinance of God, by which -he would humble the proud, and convert the -obstinate; strengthen the weak, and confirm -the wise, hearer. Whatever our condition, it -is to be corrected or improved by the word of -God; whatever our necessities, they are to be -relieved by it. But every gift of the spirit, as -well as faith, <i>cometh by hearing</i>: and that not -in the instant, but by degrees; for the Gospel -does not illuminate and sanctify men at once; -but by successive improvements, according to -the care with which we listen to its admonitions, -and the impression they make upon us. -Hence it concerns the hearer, that nothing be -lost, and that <i>the good seed</i> be not committed -to the ground in vain. One <i>truth</i> received, -prepares the mind to entertain a second; that, -a third; and so on, till we become perfect in -the knowledge of the <i>faith</i>. Our moral advances -are made in the same manner: one good -resolution begets another, which again produces -succeeding ones, till, through several intervening -states, we arrive, or almost arrive, at perfect -<i>obedience</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span></p> - -<p>And this consideration, indeed, seems to have -been immediately present to our Lord, when -he delivered the admonition in the text. For -so he comments upon, and enforces his own -words—<i>Take heed what ye hear</i>: [for] <i>with -what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to -you, and</i> <small>TO YOU THAT HEAR, SHALL MORE BE -GIVEN</small>: that is, plainly and certainly, your -proficiency in faith and virtue will depend upon -the degree of attention ye pay to my word, and -shall be proportioned to it; therefore it cannot -be too strict and earnest. Nay, our Lord goes -farther, and in his jealousy, as it were, for the -honour of the word spoken, threatens the listless -hearer, that he should not only not advance -in religious qualifications, but that he should -even lose those, which he already possessed. -<i>For he that hath, to him shall be given</i>: <small>AND -HE THAT HATH NOT, FROM HIM SHALL BE TAKEN -AWAY EVEN THAT HE HATH</small>. And this dispensation -of Providence, as severe as it may seem, -is, I suppose, confirmed by too certain experience, -and is analogous to the rest of God’s -moral government.</p> - -<p>It is no slight matter then, <i>how we hear</i>. -And let no idle prejudices prevent or mislead -us. The preacher of the Gospel may, on various -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span> -pretences, be unacceptable to us. Still, -the Gospel itself is not <i>his</i>, but God’s; to which -no <i>circumstance</i> should indispose us. Nay, in -spite of this indisposition, the <i>preacher</i>, if we -resolve to hear, may profit us. For it is not, -I conceive, without example, that such as come -to amuse themselves with a stated discourse, -or perhaps to censure the discourser, have -found their hearts touched by the quickening -power of the word, and have returned with -serious thoughts and better resolutions.</p> - -<p>This, I say, is not too much to expect from -the Gospel of Christ, and the grace which attends -it, since we find it recorded of a <i>Pagan -moralist</i>, that, when a young reveller came -into his school, flushed with wine, and (as the -custom of such was) crowned with flowers, and -therefore in no disposition, we may presume, -to profit by his instructions; the philosopher, -however, chose his topics so well, and pressed -them on his gay disciple with such effect, as -to send him away in a graver mood, and without -his garland<a id="FNanchor_116" href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">116</a>. But, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span></p> - -<p>IV. The last and most important reason of -all why we should give an attentive ear to the -word of God, is, <i>That we shall finally be -judged by it</i>.</p> - -<p>If the Gospel had only proposed to instruct -us in the knowledge of God, that so we might -speculate more ably on divine subjects; or, at -most, refer the knowledge we acquire to present -use; though it could not be denied that -such purpose was an important one, yet, if it -went no further, we might, if we could allow -ourselves in such imprudence, make light of -this, as we do of so many other kinds of instruction. -We should be ignorant, indeed, -and unaccomplished in a very sublime science; -but so we are of many others, and yet are -contented to remain in that ignorance. We -might conduct ourselves foolishly and perversely, -and might suffer much inconvenience, and even -misery, for want of acting on the principles of -this science; but so we do, in many other instances, -for want of acting on the maxims of -art and prudence in the management of our -common concerns, and yet we make a shift to -satisfy ourselves with our condition. But if -the Gospel follow us into another world; if -this immortal volume must be laid open in the -presence of men and angels, and our eternal -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span> -doom pronounced out of it, though we would -not obey, or so much as listen to its commands, -when they were so earnestly, so repeatedly, -in this life pressed upon us; if such -be the effect of not <i>hearing</i>, how shall we -excuse our indifference in this respect, or what -can support us under the consciousness of it?</p> - -<p>Hear then the awful sentence of Christ -himself, denounced in that Gospel—<i>He that -rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, -hath one that judgeth him</i>; <small>THE WORD</small> <i>that -I have spoken, the same shall judge him at -the last day</i><a id="FNanchor_117" href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">117</a>.</p> - -<p>Go now, ye careless hearers, ye despisers of -the <small>WORD</small>, and justify to yourselves, if ye can, -your neglect and scorn of it!</p> - -<p>When our Lord himself taught in the -streets of Jerusalem, many a <i>supercilious</i> -Pharisee, we may suppose, passed by, without -so much as stopping to hear what this -divine teacher had to say to them: others, if -they gave attention to his words, were only -gratifying an idle, perhaps a malignant curiosity; -they sought occasion from what he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span> -said to intrap him in his discourse, to accuse -him to the rulers, or to vilify him in the eyes -of the people. Again: when this same doctrine -was taught by the Apostle Paul in another -proud city, as proud of its philosophic schools, -as Jerusalem was of its temple, many a contemptuous -sophist, we may believe, disdained -to listen, at all to the <i>foolishness of preaching</i>; -and of those few who did, <i>some</i>, we know, -<i>mocked</i>, while others negligently asked their -companions, <i>What would this babbler say</i>? -But how will both these be astonished in the -last day to find themselves judged by that <i>word</i> -which they neglected, or contemned; by that -word, which they would not <i>hear</i>, though -it was brought home to their doors, or which -they rejected with scorn, when they <i>did</i> -hear it!</p> - -<p>Nor think, because neither Jesus nor Paul -hath preached in person to us, that therefore -our case is much different. Jesus and Paul -still speak in the ministers of the word: or, -what if the speakers be widely different, the -<i>word</i> is the same: <i>this treasure we</i> still <i>have</i>, -though <i>in earthen vessels</i><a id="FNanchor_118" href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">118</a>. Nay, in one respect, -our guilt exceeds theirs. The Pharisees -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span> -and Philosophers were, alike, ignorant -and unbelieving. We profess <i>to know</i>, and <i>to -believe</i>.</p> - -<p>Let <small>US</small>, then, <i>take heed what we hear</i>; lest -our knowledge and belief add terrors to that -day, when <i>the neglected word</i> shall sit in -judgment upon us. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XV">SERMON XV.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 24, 1765.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</h3> - -<p><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, -and simple concerning evil.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Our</span> blessed Lord had given it in charge to -his followers to be <i>wise as serpents, and harmless -as doves</i><a id="FNanchor_119" href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">119</a>. And the Apostle explains and -enforces this command of his Master, when -he enjoins us in the words of the text, To be -<i>wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning -evil</i>.</p> - -<p>I confine myself, at present, to the former -part of the text, and shall enquire into the -properties or characters of <span class="smcap">Christian Wisdom</span>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span></p> - -<p>This wisdom consists in the prosecution of -what the Scriptures declare to be the true <i>end</i> -of man, and by such <i>means</i> as they prescribe -to us.</p> - -<p>That <i>end</i> is the <small>SALVATION</small> of our souls; and -the <i>means</i>, which lead to it, are <small>FAITH</small> and -<small>OBEDIENCE</small>. Thus far there can be no mistake. -The <i>wise Christian</i> is he who is intent -on securing his <i>eternal</i> interest; and who, to -that end, fortifies his mind with a firm belief of -the <i>doctrines</i>, and conducts his life according -to the <i>precepts</i>, of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>I. But <small>PERFECT WISDOM</small>, which consists in -a strict attention to these <i>several</i> particulars, -and according to the true worth of <i>each</i>, is -rarely the lot of human nature. And there -are <i>two</i> ways, in which we are most apt to forfeit -our pretensions to it. <span class="smcap">One</span> is, when our -minds, wholly taken up with the ultimate -<i>object</i> of their hopes, neglect the <i>means</i> which -are appointed to bring them to it: The <small>OTHER</small>, -when we rest in the intervening <i>means</i> themselves, -without a due regard to that <i>final purpose</i>, -for the sake of which they were appointed. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span></p> - -<p>1. The <small>FORMER</small> of these defects we may observe -in those persons who, from a too warm -and enthusiastic turn of thought, are for subliming -all piety into the trances of mystic contemplation; -as if <i>morality</i> and <i>faith</i> scarce -deserved their notice; and the <i>beatific vision</i> -were as well the <i>object</i>, as <i>end</i> of the Christian -life. Here the fault lies in an impatience to -come at the <i>point</i> we propose to ourselves, -without observing the proper <i>methods</i> which -are to put us in possession of it; and is much -the same phrenzy as we should charge on those -<i>travellers</i>, who, being on their way towards a -distant country, stop short in the contemplation -of all the wonders they have heard reported -of it, without pursuing their journey, or -indeed without taking one step towards it.</p> - -<p>2. The <small>OTHER</small> defect of wisdom is seen in -those less sanguine, and, in truth, lukewarm -Christians, who do not, indeed, altogether -neglect the subservient duties of their profession, -but, as not enough considering the <i>prize -of their high calling</i>, grow remiss in the exercise -of them: in which they too much resemble -those <i>same travellers</i>; who, when taking the -ordinary means of arriving at their journey’s -end, fall into an idle way of loitering on the -road, and use not that dispatch and diligence -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span> -in their stages, which an earnest consideration -of the <i>end</i>, they have in view, should naturally -inspire.</p> - -<p>II. But this duty of Christian wisdom is -further violated, when, with a full respect to -our final <i>hopes and expectations</i>, and a general -intention to pursue them by the <i>means</i> -appointed in holy Scripture, we do not, however, -observe the <i>due bounds and measures</i> of -each; that is, when, of the <i>two</i> appointed -means of salvation, <i>a pure faith</i>, and <i>right -practice</i>, we chose to ourselves a favourite, -and incline too much to <i>one</i>, at the expence of -the <i>other</i>. For,</p> - -<p>1. With regard to the distinct provinces of -<small>FAITH</small> and <small>MORALITY</small>, we know there are those, -who, provided they are but sound and orthodox -in their opinions, that they give an entire assent -to the several articles of their creed, and -submit their faith to the entire direction of -Scripture, or perhaps of the church with which -they communicate, suppose the affair of <i>moral -practice</i> of much less importance; and conclude -their devotion for this acceptable sacrifice -of <i>a right faith</i> will excuse their making somewhat -too free with the article of <i>obedience</i>. -Such persons there have been and still are in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span> -all churches; but we know <i>what</i> sect of Christians -is most deeply infected with this error.</p> - -<p>2. On the contrary, they who have shaken -off this bondage of superstition, and have observed -the mischiefs which arise in abundance -from this exclusive attachment to creeds and -confessions, are very apt to run into the other -extreme; and, because they find <i>morality</i> to -be of eternal obligation, make the less account -of <i>faith</i> and right opinion. As the former -excess is the peculiar disgrace of <i>Popery</i>, this -other has frequently been objected to <i>Protestantism</i>. -<i>Both</i> are manifest violations of -<i>Christian wisdom</i>; which, besides that it commands -an equal reverence for the two tables -of the divine law, should further instruct us, -<i>that as faith without works is vain</i>, so <i>good -works</i> themselves, unassisted and unsanctified -by <i>faith</i>, are either not so perfect, or not so -acceptable from us Christians, as otherwise -they might be. Not to observe, that as the -articles of our holy faith may be founded on -<i>reasons</i>, which we do not know; so the belief -or rejection of them may have <i>consequences</i>, -which we cannot foresee.</p> - -<p>III. And with this preparation, let us now -descend to still more particular reflexions on -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span> -the duty which lies upon us to approve our -<i>wisdom</i> in the <i>public profession</i> of that faith, -and the <i>manifestation</i> of that practice. <i>Christian -wisdom</i> requires an attentive regard to the -main <i>end</i> we have in view, and to the <i>methods</i> -by which we are instructed to obtain it. But -still there is great room for discretion to shew -itself in the <i>management and pursuit</i> of those -methods. One <i>manner</i> of doing the good, we -are appointed to do, will be preferable to another. -And it is a great part of Christian prudence -to be ready and expert in discovering -and acting upon that <i>preference</i>. This indeed -is a large field; nor is it possible to enumerate -all the cases which fall within this province of -true wisdom. But to prescribe to <i>ourselves</i> -some plan, however defective, we may consider, -that, if a constant regard be had to <i>ourselves</i>, -to our <i>own character and circumstances</i>, our -virtues will then be most <small>GRACEFUL</small>; if to the -exigencies of the <i>times</i> and <i>places</i> in which we -live, most <small>SEASONABLE</small>; and, lastly, if to the -<i>persons</i>, <i>conditions</i>, and <i>characters</i> of other -men, they will thus become most <small>ATTRACTIVE</small> -and <small>EFFICACIOUS</small>.</p> - -<p>1. It was a point the masters of ancient wisdom -took a singular pleasure to inculcate, and -we find an equal stress laid upon it by the sacred -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span> -writers, that a strict <i>decorum</i> be observed -in the exercise of our virtues; or, in other -words, that the <i>good</i> we do be that which is <i>fit</i> -and <i>decent</i>, considering our <i>circumstances and -characters</i>. Thus we find one set of duties -more especially recommended to the <i>young</i>, -another to the <i>aged</i>; some to <i>private</i> persons, -others to such as are in <i>place and authority</i>. -Different <i>professions</i> in life have also different -sets of offices belonging to them; or in such as -are <i>common</i> to all, propriety demands, that -they be evidenced in very different <i>manners</i>. -The virtues we expect in the <i>poor man</i>, are -humility, industry, and resignation. These too -are virtues, from the obligation of which no -<i>rich man</i> is exempted; but it would be strangely -<i>misbecoming</i>, if <i>he</i> did not surpass the <i>other</i> in -acts of charity and beneficence. And in respect -of the same <i>common</i> virtue, suppose <i>charity</i>, -what the <i>one</i> would very commendably discharge -by little acts of service and assiduity -towards his distressed neighbour, might require -a very considerable expence of wealth or labour -in the <i>other</i>. Nay, the several humours and -dispositions of men will occasion a difference, -if not in the <i>matter</i> of their duty, yet in the -<i>way</i> in which it will become them to express -it. An eminent moralist, indeed, carried this -point of <i>decorum</i> very far when he would justify -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span> -so bad an action, as <i>suicide</i>, and which he -owns he should have condemned in any other, -from the singular turn of Cato’s temper and -virtue<a id="FNanchor_120" href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">120</a>. But thus much may be said with -great truth: that an action, good in itself, may -come with a better grace from one man than -another. A lesson of good advice, for instance, -might be requisite from the liveliest man to his -friend; but it would have additional weight -and propriety from one of a graver disposition: -and certainly what the <i>former</i> could only hint -with address, the <i>latter</i> might be allowed to -enforce with much earnestness and authority.</p> - -<p>In short, if we study <i>ourselves</i>, and reflect -what our <i>station</i>, <i>character</i>, or <i>nature</i> is, we -shall best discern what the virtues are, and in -what manner to be expressed, which sit most -properly and <i>gracefully</i> upon us. And to give -a diligent attention to these is no mean part of -<i>moral wisdom</i>. But,</p> - -<p>2. We must look beyond ourselves; we must -consider what the condition of the <i>times</i>, what -the state of the <i>places</i> in which we live, may -require of us. I do not mean that religion is a -matter of <i>policy</i>; or that virtue is a mere <i>local</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span> -consideration. But when the question is, how -we may do the <i>most</i> good by our religious or -moral conduct, a prudent accommodation of -ourselves to time and place will be very necessary<a id="FNanchor_121" href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">121</a>. -The primitive Christians were not -<i>wise unto that which is good</i>, when they provoked -the cruelty of their enemies, and offered -themselves without cause to the racks and fires -of persecution. Nor would <i>they</i> be less blameable, -who, in a careless, prophane age, when -<i>silence</i> would be readily taken for <i>assent</i>: -when, not to profess the faith would be construed -to renounce it, should, from a too -scrupulous fear of giving offence, forbear to -make an open confession of their religion. The -exigencies of <i>times</i>, we see, are very different. -A wise man would have endeavoured to moderate -the excessive zeal, which prevailed in the -<i>former</i> of these periods: he would apply himself -to raise and quicken it, were he to find -himself in the circumstances described in the -<i>latter</i>. Or, to explain myself by a case which -may still more nearly affect us. There was a -<i>time</i>, when the religion of our country consisted -too much in a zeal for unintelligible -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span> -articles and superstitious ceremonies; when -Popery had enslaved both mind and body, had -bent the <i>one</i> to an implicit acquiescence in the -doctrines of the Church, and burthened the -<i>other</i> with a constant unprofitable exercise of -its worship. How then was the <i>wisdom</i> of a -good man to express itself in these circumstances? -In dispelling, it will surely be said, -the gloom of superstition; in asserting the -great privileges of natural reason, and in pressing -the obligation and necessity of a good life, -as of more worth than all ceremonial observances.</p> - -<p>This <i>was</i> the service rendered by the best -men of those days to true Religion; and <i>we</i> -have reason to bless and revere their memories -for it. But should the liberty into which we -are called, degenerate into licentiousness; -should it ever be common for men, in the fear of -<i>believing</i> too much, not to believe what the -Scriptures themselves plainly require of them; -and from the apprehension of relapsing into -their old superstitious practices, to give little or -no regard to the duties of external worship: -should this at any time be the case, those truly -wise men, who laboured so profitably to check -the <i>other</i> extreme, would certainly, in this different -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span> -state of things, apply themselves with -equal earnestness to correct <i>this</i>. Not that their -former practice was not good in itself, but that, -by a change in the disposition of the times, it -was now become less <i>seasonable</i>.</p> - -<p>3. We are, lastly, to have a regard to the -<i>conditions</i>, <i>characters</i>, and <i>persons</i> of those -with whom we converse; this attention being -especially requisite to render our virtues <i>attractive -and efficacious</i>.</p> - -<p>The philosopher that took upon him to discourse -on the science of war, did not enough -consider his own <i>character</i>. If he chose to do -this in an age which wanted no such instructions, -his conduct was certainly <i>unseasonable</i>. -But when he presumed to instruct the greatest -general and commander in the world, he deserved -the censure which has disgraced him -with all posterity<a id="FNanchor_122" href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">122</a>. A decorum like this is -required in our attempts to promote truth and -virtue. To dictate in such matters to persons -wiser than ourselves, or to persons, who by -their stations and characters should, in all -reason, be supposed wiser, is a manifest indiscretion, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span> -and can never be attended with any -good consequences. Were <i>we</i> ever so able to -instruct, or were <i>they</i> ever so much in want -of instruction, <i>prudence</i> would suggest a very -different conduct. It would recommend to us -all the honest arts of insinuation and address; -it would oblige us to watch the fittest seasons -and opportunities; or, perhaps, to content -ourselves with the silent admonition of a good -example. Or, were there nothing in the <i>rank -and condition</i> of those we would work upon, to -restrain us to this caution, we might even be -required to shew a condescension to their very -<i>prejudices and humours</i>. The errors of men -may sometimes be removed by arguing with -them on their own mistaken principles; by -allowing all that truth and reason will warrant -to their opinions; by putting the fairest construction -upon their designs; by hinting objections -to their wrong tenets, instead of fiercely -declaiming against them; above all, by testifying -a sincere disposition to advance truth and -goodness, without any indirect views to our -own interest. Or, were all other considerations -out of the case, we could never be excused -from proceeding in the way of gentleness and -civility, from treating them with due respect, -and expressing the sincerest good-will to their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span> -<i>persons</i>. Be their <i>moral</i> or <i>religious</i> defects -what they will, we should hardly be <i>wise</i>; that -is, we should take very improper methods of reclaiming -them from <i>either</i>, if we reproved with -bitterness, advised with insolence, or condemned -with passion. In all addresses to mistaken or -bad men, where our purpose is to inform or -amend them, the gentlest <i>applications</i> are -surely the best, because <i>these</i> excite no passion -to counteract their <i>virtue</i>.</p> - -<p>And now, at length, should it be asked who -is that <small>WISE CHRISTIAN</small> whom the text designs -and recommends to our imitation, we -are able to furnish, at least, the outline of his -character.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">He</span> is one who sets before him the great -END and prize of his <i>high calling</i>; who, in his -progress through the various stages of <i>this</i> life, -keeps in constant view the immortal happiness -which his religion holds out in prospect to him -in <i>another</i>: who, in humble adoration of his -God and Saviour, is content to wait the appointed -season which is to crown his hopes and -expectations; and, for the present, is sollicitous -to <i>work out his salvation with fear</i> and -reverence, by an earnest application of his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span> -time and pains to those <i>subservient duties</i>, -which are to qualify him for the enjoyment of -Heaven; who subjects all the towering conceits -of his <i>understanding</i>, to the <i>doctrines</i> of -the Gospel, and the impetuous sallies of his -<i>will</i>, to the <i>precepts</i> of it; who makes no audacious -separation of what the wisdom of God -hath joined together; but, whilst he adores -the mysteries of his holy <small>FAITH</small>, walks on in -the plain and humble path of moral <small>OBEDIENCE</small>. -He is <i>one</i>, who thinks it not enough to rest in -the mere <small>MATTER</small> of his duty, but performs it -in such a <small>MANNER</small> as will render it most exemplary -and efficacious. He knows it to be a -great precept of his religion, to see, <i>that his -good be not evil spoken of</i>. He would not -disgrace the <i>best</i> cause in the world by the -neglect of those decencies, which, as he observes, -have sometimes the strange power to -recommend the <i>worst</i>. The good he intends, -therefore, is attempted in such a way, as is -most <small>BECOMING</small> of himself; most <small>SEASONABLE</small> -in respect of the opportunities which are offered -to him; and most agreeable and <small>PERSUASIVE</small> -to other men. In short, <small>HE</small> is one who, -taking <i>Prudence</i> for his guide, and <i>Innocence</i> -for his companion, thinks himself secure in -these attendants; and therefore neglects no -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span> -<i>decorum</i>, which the best philosophy prescribes; -no <i>art</i>, which the soundest policy suggests; -and no <i>address</i>, which the politest manners -recommend: and so, in the high emphatic -sense of the words, approves himself a <small>WISE -MAN</small>; <i>wise unto that which is good</i>, to all -purposes in <i>this</i> world, as well as in a -<i>better</i>.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XVI">SERMON XVI.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED DECEMBER 1, 1765.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</h3> - -<p><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, -and simple concerning evil.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">In</span> considering the first part of this precept, -I endeavoured to give some general description -of Religious or <small>CHRISTIAN WISDOM</small>; both in -respect of the <small>END</small> it has in view, and of the -<small>MEANS</small> employed by it: I further exemplified -some of those subordinate <small>WAYS</small>, in which the -prudent application even of those <i>means</i> is -seen and expressed: And all this, for the sake -of those sincere, but over-zealous persons, who -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span> -are apt to think that <i>wisdom</i> hath little to do -in the prosecution of honest and upright purposes.</p> - -<p>It now remains to treat that other part of -the text, which requires us to be <small>INNOCENT</small>, -as well as <i>wise</i>, to be <small>SIMPLE CONCERNING EVIL</small>. -And this, perhaps, will be thought the more important -branch of the subject. For, generally -speaking, the ways of <i>wisdom</i>, when our purposes -are the very best, are not only the most -effectual, but the safest and most convenient. -So that <i>prudence</i> is likely to be a favourite -virtue with us. But the case is different with -regard to <i>simplicity concerning evil</i>; which is -often found a hard and disagreeable injunction; -as it may happen to cross our passions and the -more immediate views of self-interest. So that -this <small>SIMPLICITY</small> will sometimes seem, what the -world is ready enough to call it, <i>folly</i>: and -therefore, for the credit of our <i>sense</i>, as well -as virtue, we should be well apprized of the -worth and excellence of this Christian duty.</p> - -<p>The virtue of <small>SIMPLICITY</small> consists, in general, -in following the plain ingenuous sense of the -mind; in taking our measures according to the -dictates of conscience, and acting, on all occasions, -without reserve, duplicity, or self-imposture, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span> -up to our notions of obligation. It -is the office of <small>WISDOM</small> to see that our conscience -be rightly informed: But our <small>INTEGRITY</small> -is shewn in doing that which conscience, -be it erroneously informed or no, requires of -us. It consists, in a word, in whatever we -understand by an <i>honesty of nature</i>; in observing, -universally, that which we believe to -be <i>right</i>, and avoiding what we know, or but -suspect<a id="FNanchor_123" href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">123</a> to be <i>wrong</i>.</p> - -<p>This <i>simplicity of mind</i> may be almost said -to be born with us. It is the bias of nature on -our young minds; and our earliest instructions, -as well as the first efforts of reason, strengthen -and confirm it. But the impression lasts not -long. We are scarcely entered into life, when -we begin to treat it as one of <i>those childish -things</i>, which it is beneath the dignity of our -riper age to be amused with. The passions -put forth and grow luxuriant; and why, we -say to ourselves, should this tender apprehension -of evil check their growth, and restrain -their activity? We are now in the season -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span> -of <i>pleasure</i>; and can there be any hurt in -taking a little of it, out of that narrow path, -which our early prejudices have prescribed to -us?</p> - -<p>Still, as we advance in years, fresh objects -arise, and other passions engage us in the pursuit -of them. Wealth and honour, or what -we improperly call our <i>interests</i>, have now an -ascendant over us; and the passion for each is -rarely gratified but at the expence of some -virtue. And thus it comes to pass, that, though -we set out in the world with a warm sense of -truth and honour, experience by degrees refines -us out of these principles; and our hearts, -instead of retaining that <i>infant</i> purity, the -grace and ornament of our nature, and which -Christ so especially requires<a id="FNanchor_124" href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">124</a> in the professors -of his religion, are all over stained with fraud, -dissimulation, and disingenuity. We are even -proud of the acquisition, and call it a <i>knowledge -of life</i>: so dextrous are we in giving a good -name to our worst qualities!</p> - -<p>But effects follow their causes; and the vice -we are now considering is not the less operative, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span> -nor the less hurtful, for the specious -terms in which we dress it up, and present it -to each other.</p> - -<p>Of its malignity I shall give two or three -instances; and, to fit them the better for use, -they shall be taken from very different quarters; -from the <i>cabinets of the wise, and the -schools of the learned</i>, as well as from the <i>vulgar -haunts of careless and licentious men</i>. We -shall learn, perhaps, to reverence the Apostle’s -advice, when we find that the neglect of it has -<small>DEGRADED RELIGION</small>; <small>RELAXED MORALITY</small>, and -<small>POLLUTED COMMON LIFE</small>.</p> - -<p>To begin with an instance which shews how -dangerous it is to depart from this <i>simplicity -concerning evil</i>, in the great concerns of <small>RELIGION</small>.</p> - -<p>I. When the priest, the sage, and the politician -joined together in the days of heathenism -to propagate among the people a superstition, -which themselves condemned and detested; -when they did their utmost to support a senseless, -an immoral, an irreligious worship; when -they strove, by every seducing artifice, to keep -up that strong delusion, which God, in his -just indignation, had sent among them, to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span> -believe a <i>lye</i>, (for such in its whole fabric and -constitution was the old Pagan idolatry) when -these men, who <i>knew the truth</i>, were yet contented -<i>to hold it in unrighteousness</i>; they believed, -no doubt, nay, they made no scruple -to boast, that they had acted with consummate -prudence; and that, in sacrificing the -interests of religious truth (a small matter in -their estimation) they had most effectually -provided for the public interest. But what -sentence does the Scripture pass on these men -of ancient and renowned wisdom? Why this -severe and mortifying one, That <i>professing -themselves wise, they became fools</i>. And how -well they deserved this censure, we understand -from their own history; where we read, That -Pagan idolatry, thus countenanced and supported, -teemed with all the vices, of which our -depraved nature is capable; and that the several -contrivances of its wise advocates to keep -an impious and barefaced falshood in credit, -served only to produce, <i>first</i>, a <small>SUSPICION</small>, and -in the <i>end</i>, an open and avowed <small>CONTEMPT</small>, of -all Religion.</p> - -<p>However, the ends of <i>divine wisdom</i> were -greatly promoted by this sad experience of <i>human -folly</i>. For Christianity, which made its -appearance at this juncture, found it an easier -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span> -task to establish itself on the ruins of a fallen, -or falling superstition. <i>Truth</i>, which had for -so long a time been anxiously kept out of sight, -was now the more welcome to those, who wished -her appearance. And the detection of those -prophane arts, which had been so manifestly -employed in that service, disposed the most -perverse or careless the more easily to reconcile -themselves to her.</p> - -<p>And it would have been happy if the sense -of this advantage, which the <i>simplicity of -truth</i> obtained, in the first pages of the Gospel, -over all the frauds of imposture, had prevented -Christians from copying afterwards what they -had so successfully contended against and exposed. -Then had a great dishonour of the -Christian name been avoided. But that <i>truth</i>, -whose virtues are here magnified, must not be -dissembled. The practice of <i>lying</i> for the -cause of God, too soon revived, and became -too frequent in the Christian world. It is in -vain to think of diverting your minds, more -especially, from that great part of it, which -has long since forgotten to be <i>simple concerning -evil</i>. But true <i>wisdom will ever be justified -of her children</i>. These dishonest arts, which -could not support a bad cause, have been injurious -and disgraceful to the <i>best</i>. They have -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span> -corrupted the ingenuous spirit of the Gospel, -they have adulterated the sincere word of God; -and, in both ways, have produced innumerable -mischiefs, in civil and religious life. They -have helped to bring into discredit or disuse a -true <i>Christian temper</i>; and have unhappily -created in the minds of many an undeserved -prejudice against the <i>Christian faith</i>.</p> - -<p>II. But if these men have dishonoured <i>Religion</i>, -others have defiled <small>MORALITY</small>; yet both -assume to themselves the title of <i>wise</i> men; -and for that very reason, because they have -departed as far as possible from the virtue of -<i>simplicity</i>.</p> - -<p>And here your indignation cannot but rise -more especially against a set of men, who, applying -the subtleties of school-philosophy to the -plain science of Ethics, have made as free with -the <i>precepts</i> of the Gospel, as some others had -done with its <i>doctrines</i>. These men, under the -respectable name of <span class="smcap">Casuists</span>, have presumed -to wind up, or let down the obligation of moral -duties to what pitch they please. Such as have -taken the <small>STRICTER</small> side, deserve but small -thanks for perplexing the minds of good men -with needless scruples; and discouraging the -rest with those austerities, which our Religion -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span> -no where commands, and the condition of human -life will not admit. But for that <i>looser</i> -sort, who by a thousand studied evasions, qualifications, -and distinctions, dissolve the force -of every moral precept; and, as the Pharisees -of old, <i>make the word of God of none effect</i> -by their impious glosses, I know not what term -of reproach you will think bitter enough for -<i>them</i>. The sacred writers thought it sufficient -to deliver the rules of life in <i>general</i> terms<a id="FNanchor_125" href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">125</a>; -leaving it, as they well might, to common -sense and common honesty, to make the application -of them to <i>particular</i> cases, as they -chanced to arise. But this officious sophistry -intervening and perverting the ingenuous sense -of the mind, instructs us how to transgress -them all with impunity, and even innocence. -By the help of this magic, we may extract the -sting of guilt from every known sin; and, if -we have but wit enough, may be as wicked as -we please with a safe conscience. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span></p> - -<p>If the features of this corrupt casuistry have -not been overcharged; or, indeed, if there be -any such thing in the world as a corrupt casuistry, -it may concern us to reflect, that this pest -of society could not have arisen but from a -contempt of the Apostle’s rule, <i>of being simple -concerning evil</i>.</p> - -<p>III. Hitherto we have exemplified the breach -of this rule in the <i>learned</i>, and the <i>wise</i>. And -it may be thought that nothing but perverted -science could qualify men for so prodigious a -depravity. But there is a casuistry of <i>the heart</i>, -as well as head; and we find by woeful experience, -that men may refine themselves out of -that <i>simplicity</i> which the Gospel enjoins, without -the assistance of <i>unblessed knowledge</i>.</p> - -<p>For I come now, in the last place, to instance -in the vulgar tribes of <i>libertine and -careless men</i>. Of whom we may observe, that -when indulged passion has taught them to -make light of an honest mind; the consequence -is, that they run into all excesses, and are -rarely hindered from <i>working all uncleanness -with greediness</i>. It is true, indeed, that no -man becomes at once desperately and irretrievably -wicked. But it is not less true, that -when this great step is taken of prevaricating -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span> -with a man’s own conscience, the other stages -of iniquity are presently passed over. And -how indeed can it be otherwise? So long as a -man preserves the integrity of his natural disposition, -there is always hope that, though -particular passions may prevail for a time, reason -and virtue will, in the end, regain their -dominion over him. At least, he will be constantly -checked and kept back in the career of -his vices. But when this sincerity of heart is -lost; when he confounds the differences of -right and wrong, palliating the deformities -of vice, or bestowing on vice itself the -attractions of virtue; then all reasonable expectation -of a return is cut off; since this perverted -ingenuity tends to make him easy under -his sins, and leaves him at leisure to pursue -his evil courses with security.</p> - -<p>We see then from the excesses into which -these different sorts of men have been led, by -the refinements of <small>POLICY</small>, of <small>ABUSED SCIENCE</small>, -and <small>DELUSIVE PASSION</small>, how dangerous it is to -bid adieu to that <i>simplicity concerning evil</i>, -which the Holy Apostle requires of us.</p> - -<p>It remains, that we cannot provide too cautiously -against those evasive <small>PLEAS AND PRETENCES</small>, -which would incline us to part with it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span></p> - -<p>These <small>PRETENCES</small> are infinite: for, when -the <i>heart</i> is corrupted, the <i>understanding</i> is -ready to pander to every lust that importunes -it. But we may know the principal of them -by these signs. To be <i>simple concerning evil</i> -is the easiest thing in the world; but we may -suspect that something <i>wrong</i> is ready to intrude -itself, “<small>WHEN</small> we cast about for excuses -to cover the nakedness of ingenuity; when we -are driven to distinctions and far-fetched reasoning -for our justification; when we pause a -moment between the clear conviction of duty, -on one hand, and any indirect views on the -other; more <i>particularly</i>, <small>WHEN</small> we find the -tone of our virtue relax at the consideration of -what we may chance to lose by adhering to it; -when we but suspect, that a severe unqualifying -virtue looks like inhumanity; when we -think our dependencies and connexions in life -have a demand upon conscience; when we -lament with the politician, that <i>good men are -impracticable</i>, and so, from a principle of -public spirit, resolve not to encounter that -prejudice: Above all, when we go about to -regulate morality by what <i>a knowledge of the -world</i> teaches; when <i>custom</i> is pleaded in opposition -to <i>duty</i>, and vice itself authorized by -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span> -<i>fashion</i><a id="FNanchor_126" href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">126</a>; when we acknowledge what we do -is in itself not justifiable, but excuse it by a -pretence of the good ends we hope to serve by -it; when we are willing to plead the infirmity -of nature, the power of temptation, the prevalence -of example; when we venture too securely -on the confines of immorality, and are -curious to know how near we may go to vice, -without being directly vicious.”</p> - -<p>These, and such as these, are the dangerous -insinuations which attempt our virtue. And -how, you will ask, shall we secure ourselves -from them? By reason and argument? By -speculation and philosophy? Shall we stay to -examine their several pretences, call these delusive -pleas to account, and shew we can confute -them all, before we reject them?</p> - -<p>Alas, I dare not advise this method; which -besides its other inconveniencies, is not, I doubt, -a very safe one. Our heads may be unequal -to the task; or, which is worse, our hearts -may betray us. At the best, we shall waste -much time in these ingenious inquiries, when -the business of life demands an immediate -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span> -determination. St. Paul has shewn us a shorter -and <i>more excellent way</i>, when he bids us, <i>Be -simple concerning evil</i>. In virtue of this sacred -admonition, a wise man will think it sufficient -to dismiss these vain insinuations at -once, without so much as spending a thought -upon them. “What,” he will say to himself, -“if I cannot detect the falsehood of these pleas, -I have a <i>heart</i>, that revolts against them. -I cannot, perhaps, disentangle the sophistry -of these arguments; but I <i>feel</i> the baseness -of the conclusion, and I <i>see</i> in others -the folly of acting upon it. It were ill with -<i>vice</i> indeed, if it had no false colours to appear -in; and <i>error</i> would be hooted out of -the world, if she did not hide her obliquities -under the garb of reason. But what are -these disguises to me, who am neither -dazzled by the one, nor duped by the other? -Let the curious, if they will, inquire, wherein -the imposture consists: I have that within -me, which tells me in a moment, they are -but impostures. In vain then, will such a -one conclude, are these insidious attempts -on me, who take a sure refuge in the word -of God, and the integrity of my own virtue. -Be the pretences what they will, the confutation -of them is no part of a Christian’s -care. I may exercise my understanding -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span> -profitably in other matters. It is my duty -to consider much of the ways of <i>doing good</i>. -I may be prudent and <small>WISE</small> here. But, <small>EXPERIENCE</small>, -and <small>CONSCIENCE</small>, and <small>RELIGION</small>, -command me to be, <small>SIMPLE CONCERNING -EVIL</small>.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XVII">SERMON XVII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 22, 1772.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">John</span> v. 44.</h3> - -<p><i>How can ye believe, which receive honour one -of another, and seek not the honour that -cometh of God only?</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">It</span> has been thought unfair to charge unbelief, -simply and indiscriminately, on the grosser -passions. The observation, I believe, is just: -and yet it may be true, notwithstanding, that -unbelief is always owing to <i>some or other</i> of -the passions. The evidences of revealed religion -are so numerous, and upon the whole so -convincing, that one cannot easily conceive -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span> -how a reasonable man should reject them all, -without the intervention of some secret prejudice, -or predominant affection.</p> - -<p>Of these <i>prejudices and affections</i>, one of -the commonest, and the most seducing of any -to the better sort of unbelievers, is that irregular -love of <i>praise and reputation</i>, which -our Lord condemns in the text—<i>How can ye -believe, which receive honour one of another, -and seek not the honour that cometh from God -only?</i></p> - -<p>The question, we may observe, is so expressed, -as if we <i>could not</i> receive honour from -one another, and believe, at the same time; as -if there was a physical, at least a moral impossibility, -that these two things should subsist -together. And we shall find, perhaps, the -expression no stronger than the occasion required, -if, besides other considerations, we -attend to the following; which shew how inconsistent -a true practical faith in the Gospel -is with the sollicitous and undistinguishing -pursuit of human glory.</p> - -<p>For, I. <i>The Gospel</i> delivers many of its -doctrines as inscrutable, and silences the busy -curiosity of our understandings about them: -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span> -but the <i>honour of men</i> is frequently obtained -by indulging this curiosity, and pushing the -researches of reason into those forbidden quarters.</p> - -<p>II. <i>The Gospel</i> demands an humble and -reverential awe in the discussion of all its doctrines; -such of them, I mean, as it leaves most -free to human inquiry: but this turn of mind -is contrary to that high courage and daring intrepidity, -which the <i>world</i> expects in those -who are candidates for its honour.</p> - -<p>III. <i>The Gospel</i> prescribes an uniform and -unqualified assent to whatever it declares of -divine things, whether we can or cannot apprehend -the reason of such declaration: but -this submission to authority, the <i>world</i> is -ready to call ill-faith, and to consider the defiance -of it, as a mark of superior honesty and -virtue.</p> - -<p>Thus we see, that <small>WIT</small>, <small>COURAGE</small>, and <small>PROBITY</small>, -the three great qualities we most respect -in ourselves, and for which we receive the -highest honour from each other, appear many -times to the world with less advantage in the -Christian, than the unbeliever. Not, that -Christianity strips us of these virtues: on the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span> -other hand, it requires and promotes them all, -in the proper sense of the words; and they -may really subsist in a higher degree in the -<i>believer</i>, than any other: but they will often -seem to be more triumphantly displayed by -those who give themselves leave to <i>disbelieve</i>; -and the prospect of honour, which that opinion -opens to such men, is one of the commonest -sources from which they derive their infidelity.</p> - -<p>But to make good this charge against the -unbelieving world, and to lay open the mysteries -of that insidious self-love, which prompts -them to aspire to <i>fame</i>, by the means of infidelity, -it will be necessary to resume the <small>THREE -TOPICS</small> before mentioned, and to enlarge something -upon each of them.</p> - -<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span>, then, I say, That He, who at all -adventures resolves to obtain the honour of -men, <i>cannot believe</i>, because the unrestrained -exercise of his <small>WIT</small>, by which he would acquire -that honour, is inconsistent with the genius and -principles of our religion.</p> - -<p>The fundamental articles of the Gospel are -proposed to us, as objects of faith, not as subjects -of inquiry. As they proceed from the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span> -source of light and truth, they are founded, no -doubt, in the highest reason; but they are for -the most part, at least in many respects, inscrutable -to our reason. It is enough that we -see cause to admit the revelation itself, upon -the evidences given of it: it is not necessary -that we should carry our researches any farther. -It is not safe, or decent, or practicable, in many -cases, to do it. The just and sober reasoner is -careful to proceed on clear and distinct ideas, -and to stop where these fail him. But how -soon does he arrive at this point? For the sublime -genius of Christianity reminds him, at -almost every step, how impossible it is, with -the scanty line of human reason, to fathom the -<i>deep things of God</i>; and represses the sallies -of his wit and fancy, with this reflexion—<i>how -unsearchable are his judgments, and his -ways past finding out!</i> In a word, where -he finds the subject too obscure for his understanding -to penetrate, or too vast for his -ideas to comprehend (and he presently finds -this, when he attempts to reason on the mysteries -of the Christian faith) he checks his inquiries, -he believes, and adores in silence.</p> - -<p>But now this silence, this adoration, is ill -suited to the restless ambition of the human -mind, when it aspires to the reputation of profound -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span> -and extensive knowledge. The vain -reasoner would signalize himself on all subjects, -the most abstruse and mysterious, in preference -to others; and fears not to carry his presumptuous -inquiries to the seat and throne of God. -He questions the revealed truths of the Gospel -as freely as any other; and finding them many -times inexplicable by the principles of human -science, he triumphs in the discovery, applauds -his own reach of thought, and dazzles the world -into a high opinion of his wit and parts. The -truth is, he decides on subjects, which he does -not, and cannot understand: but the world -sees, he decides upon them; and that is -generally enough to attract its admiration and -esteem.</p> - -<p>Again: In such parts of revealed Religion, -as lie more within the cognizance of human -reason, an inquirer may find difficulties, and -start objections, which the best instructed -believer either does not attempt, or is not able -to resolve. Here, the triumph of wit over faith -is thought conspicuous, and is indeed seducing. -For, while the believer has only to confess his -own ignorance, the infidel shines in exposing -and inforcing those difficulties and objections: -And, when the ingenuity is all on one side, it -is rarely suspected, that reason and good sense -may be, with modesty, on the other. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span></p> - -<p>Nay, where the point in question can be -effectually cleared up, still their will generally -seem to be more acuteness in discovering a difficulty, -than in removing it: And thus the -subtle caviller in religious controversy shall have -the fortune to pass for a shrewder man, than -the ablest apologist.</p> - -<p>And that this advantage of reputation is, indeed, -that which free and libertine reasoners -propose to themselves, you will see by calling -to mind the sort of subjects, which they are -fondest to treat, and the sort of character, which -they are most proud to assume.</p> - -<p>In natural religion, the origin of evil, and -God’s moral government, are their favourite -topics: in revealed religion, the fall of human -nature, its restoration by the death and sufferings -of Christ, the incarnation of the Son of -God, and the adorable Trinity. But why are -these high subjects picked out to exercise their -speculations upon? subjects, in which the -sublimest understanding is absorbed and lost; -subjects, which they well know (for I speak of -the abler men in that party) we have no faculties -to comprehend. Why, then, are these -subjects preferred to all others? For an obvious -cause: to shew how ingenious they can -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span> -be in perplexing human reason, if any believer -should be indiscreet enough to subject these -mysterious truths to that test.</p> - -<p>But the character, they assume, declares -their purpose no less than the arguments they -delight to treat. For their pride is to affect a -sort of pyrrhonism, or universal doubt and -hesitation, even on the plainest points of morals; -to controvert the most received principles and -opinions; and, as the sophists of old, <i>to make -the worse appear the better reason</i>, in all questions -which they undertake to discuss. Would -you desire a stronger proof of the principle -which actuates such men?</p> - -<p>II. It appears, then, how the ostentation <i>of -wit</i> leads to infidelity. The affectation of <small>COURAGE</small> -is another snare to those, who lie in wait -for the honour of men.</p> - -<p>The believer, it has been observed, presumes -not to reason at all on some points of his Religion. -In others, he is left at liberty; yet on -these, he reasons, always with great reverence -and circumspection. Now, though this conduct -be highly fit and proper, it is not so -likely to strike the observation of men, as a -more forward and enterprizing behaviour. Not -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span> -only his understanding is restrained, but his -spirit, they say, is cramped and broken. The -inconsiderate world, on the other hand, is -taken with bold assertions, and hazardous positions; -which it easily construes into a mark -of high courage, as well as capacity. A fearless -turn of mind is a dazzling quality, and we -do not always distinguish between intrepidity -and temerity. Thus it comes to pass, that as -the Christian’s love of peace and charity in -common life, so his cautious respect in religious -matters, has been treated by libertine -men, as pusillanimity. He is considered, in -the fashionable world, as a tame and spiritless -man; and in the learned world, as a tame and -spiritless reasoner.</p> - -<p>Hence, when we are bent, at any rate, upon -<i>receiving honour one of another</i>, we are tempted -to make a display, not of our wit only, but our -courage: And, as nothing is thought a surer -indication of this quality, than to make light -of that which the rest of the world hold sacred, -we easily see how a passion for this sort of -fame betrays the unbalanced mind into all the -extravagancies of infidelity.</p> - -<p>The instances are frequent, and well-known. -When the Philosopher of Malmsbury, in the -last century, took upon him to resolve all -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span> -morality and all religion into the will of the magistrate, -whatever other end he might have in -view, the bold singularity of this paradox was, -no doubt, that which chiefly recommended it -to himself, as well as surprized the world into -an opinion of his bravery: though we know, -from his story, that, in fact, he had no more -of this virtue, than might well have consisted -with faith, and the fear of God. But vain -man oft affects to make a shew of that which -he does not possess: and thus his defect in -true courage, may be the true account of his -pretending to so much of it.</p> - -<p>Still, the heart of man is more deceitful, -than we have hitherto seen, or can easily believe: -For who,</p> - -<p>III. In the last place, would suspect, that -an admiration of <small>INTEGRITY</small> itself, as well as of -<i>wit</i> and <i>courage</i>, should seduce the unwary -mind into irreligion? Yet so it is, that men, -intoxicated with the love of fame, will sacrifice -any virtue, the best quality they have, to -the reputation of it.</p> - -<p>The true believer admits, with a full and -perfect assent, whatever he takes to be clearly -revealed in the Gospel; the most impenetrable -article of his creed, as well as the simplest proposition -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span> -in morals. All stands with him on -the same equal footing of divine authority: no -matter, whether he can, or cannot, perceive -the grounds of reason, on which the Revelation -is founded.</p> - -<p>But now this facility of belief, this entire -resignation of the understanding to the dictates -of Heaven, the world is ready to suspect, of -disingenuity. And they who live only in the -opinion of that world, would not be exposed -to so dishonourable a suspicion.</p> - -<p>The process of their vanity may be traced in -this manner. They have observed, that some -persons (of their acquaintance, it may be) -pretend to more faith than they have. They -suppose the same thing of many others; and -they suppose too, the rest of the world, the -more intelligent part of it at least, are in the -same opinion. But they pique themselves on -their honesty: they will give no man leave to -call in question their good faith; the ornament -of their lives, and the idol of their hearts. -And thus, as many men are ill-bred, for fear -of passing in the world for flatterers; so these -men are unbelievers, that they may not be accounted -hypocrites. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span></p> - -<p>As extravagant as this turn of mind appears, -it cannot be thought incredible; especially -when united, as it may be, with that pride of -understanding, and courage, before mentioned. -“It is not for <i>me</i>, (says a presuming inquirer -to himself) who am distinguished by a reach -of thought and penetration from the vulgar, to -admit, without scruple, so extraordinary a -system, as that of Revelation. I must doubt -and disbelieve, where others see nothing to -stop at. Nor is it for a man of my spirit to -endure those shackles of reserve and respect, -which oppress the timid and servile believer. -Above all, it becomes the honesty, I profess, -to take no part of my religion upon trust; an -easy submission to what is called authority, is, -with discerning men, but another name for -insincerity. As I tender, then, the reputation -of my <i>wit</i>, my <i>courage</i>, and my <i>integrity</i>, it -concerns me to take heed how I entertain a -belief; which may, at once, shake the credit -of all these virtues.”</p> - -<p>This train of sophistry, you see, is not ill -laid; and one conceives how a mind, transported -with the love of false honour, may be -caught by it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span></p> - -<p>At first, perhaps, the disbelief is <i>pretended</i>, -only. But pretences<a id="FNanchor_127" href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">127</a>, continued for any time, -become <i>realities</i>. And thus, what was assumed, -to give us the credit of certain virtues -with the world, or with that part of it to which -we desire to recommend ourselves, is at length -embraced with a sort of good faith; and we -are, what we have seemed to be, at the instance -indeed of our vanity, but, as we flatter -ourselves, for the sake of those very virtues.</p> - -<p>Something like this, which I have here described, -may have been the case of a well-known -philosopher, who would be thought to -crown his other parts of ingenuity and courage, -with the purest probity<a id="FNanchor_128" href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">128</a>. This unhappy man, -having published to the world an offensive -system of infidelity, and being called to account -for it, replies to his censurer in these -words—<i>The world may calumniate me, as it -sees fit; but it shall never take from me the -honour of being the only author of this age, -and of many others, who hath written with -good faith</i><a id="FNanchor_129" href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">129</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span></p> - -<p>What shall we say of this strange boast? -Was it enthusiasm, or the pride of virtue, -that drew it from him? This <i>honest</i> man, we -will say, might believe himself, when he -talked at this rate: but then we must conclude, -that nothing but the most intemperate love of -praise could have wrought him up to so frantic -a persuasion.</p> - -<p>I suppose, it may now appear how easily we -become the dupes of any favourite passion; -and how perfect an insight our Lord had into -the nature of man, when he asserted in the -text—<i>that we cannot believe, if we will receive -honour one of another</i>. <i>We cannot</i>, you -see, <i>believe</i>; because, if that honour be the -ultimate end and scope of our ambition, the -best faculties we possess, the fairest virtues of -our hearts, will pervert, and, in a manner, -force us into infidelity.</p> - -<p>Let this humiliating consideration have its -full effect upon us. Above all, let it check, -or rather regulate that ardent desire of fame, -which is so predominant in young and ingenuous -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span> -minds. Let such learn from it to mistrust -their passions, even the most refined and -generous, when they would inquire into the -evidences of their religion. Let them remember -that <i>reason</i>, pure impartial reason, is to -direct them in this search; that the passion for -honour is in all cases, but particularly in this -(where it is so seducing) an unsafe and treacherous -guide; and that, to escape the illusions of infidelity -and a thousand other illusions, to which -they will otherwise be exposed in common life, -one certain method will be, To controul their -love of fame, by the love of truth; which is, -in other words, <i>to seek the honour, that cometh -of God, only</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XVIII">SERMON XVIII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 23, 1769.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">John</span>, ix. 41.</h3> - -<p><i>Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye -should have no sin; but now ye say we see, -therefore your sin remaineth.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">These</span> words were spoken by our Lord on -occasion of a great miracle performed by him, -in restoring a man <i>born blind</i> to his sight. -This wonderful display of power had its natural -effect on the man himself, in converting -him to the faith of Jesus; while the Pharisees, -who had the fullest evidence laid before them -of the <i>fact</i>, persisted obstinately in their infidelity. -Yet the <i>blind</i> man, on whom this -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span> -miracle had been wrought, was one of those -whom the Pharisees accounted <i>blind</i> in understanding, -also; in other words, he was a plain -unlettered man; whereas they themselves were -<i>guides to the blind</i>, that is, they pretended to -a more than ordinary knowledge of the law and -the prophets, by which they were enabled to -conduct and enlighten others.</p> - -<p>Jesus, therefore, respecting at once his late -restoration of the blind man’s <i>sight</i>, and the -different effects of that miracle on the <i>minds</i> of -the two parties, applies, with singular elegance, -to himself, the famous prediction of Isaiah—<i>For -judgment</i>, says he, <i>am I come into this -world, that they, which see not, might see; -and that they who see, might be made blind</i>. -The Pharisees were, indeed, sharp-sighted -enough to perceive the drift of this application, -and therefore said to him, in the same figurative -language, <i>Are we blind also?</i> To whom -Jesus replied in the words of the text, <i>If ye -were blind, ye should have no sin; but now ye -say we see, therefore your sin remaineth</i>. As -if he had said, “If ye were indeed ignorant of -the law and the prophets, as ye account this -poor man to be, ye might have some excuse -for not believing in <i>me</i>, who appeal to that -law and those prophets for the proof of my -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span> -mission; but being so skilled in them, as ye -are, and profess yourselves to be, ye are clearly -convicted of a willful, and therefore criminal, -infidelity.”</p> - -<p>It is implied, we see, in this severe reproof -of the Pharisees, that knowledge and faith very -well consist together, or rather that, where -<i>knowledge</i> is, there <i>faith</i> must needs be, -unless a very perverse use be made of that -knowledge.</p> - -<p>But to this decision of our Lord, the unbelieving -world is ready to oppose its own maxims. -“It sees so little connexion between <i>faith</i> and -<i>knowledge</i>, that it rather concludes them to be -incompatible: It allows the ignorant, indeed, -who cannot <i>walk by sight</i>, to <i>walk by faith</i>; -but, as for the knowing and intelligent, the -men of science and understanding, it presumes, -that <i>faith</i> cannot be required of these; and -that, <small>BECAUSE</small> <i>they see</i>, it is too much to expect -of them, <i>to believe in Jesus</i>.”</p> - -<p>It is true, the persons, who speak thus slightly -of <i>faith</i>, are not the most distinguished in the -world by their own parts, or knowledge. But -a certain mediocrity of <i>both</i>, inflated by vanity, -and countenanced by fashion, is forward to indulge -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span> -in this free language; and the mischief -done by it to Religion, is so great, that it may -not be amiss to expose, in few words, the indecency -and folly of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Faith and knowledge</span>, then, it is said, are -at variance with each other. Why? The -answer, I suppose, will be, Because <i>faith</i> is -in itself <i>unreasonable</i>; in other words, it will -be said, That the <i>evidences</i> of our religion are -not convincing, and that the <i>doctrines</i> of it are -not credible.</p> - -<p>One word, then, on <i>each</i> of these bold insinuations.</p> - -<p>I. The <small>EVIDENCES</small> of <i>revealed religion</i> are so -many and various; they lye so deep, or extend -so wide; and consequently the difficulty of -collecting them into one view is so great, that -few men have, perhaps, comprehended the full -force and effect of them. At least, none but -persons of very superior industry, as well as understanding, -have a right to pronounce on the -total amount of such evidence.</p> - -<p>But the <i>chief</i> evidences of the <i>Christian -Religion</i> are drawn from <small>PROPHECIES</small>, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span> -<small>MIRACLES</small>; and who are they who tell us, that -these methods of proof are unreasonable or unsatisfactory?</p> - -<p>1. That the argument from <small>PROPHECIES</small> -should not convince those, who have not considered -the occasion, and design of them, the -purposes they were intended to serve, and -therefore the degree of light and clearness, -with which it was proper they should be given; -who have not studied the language in which -those prophecies are conveyed, the state of the -times in which they were delivered, the manners, -the customs, the opinions of those to -whom they were addressed; above all, who -have not taken the pains to acquire a very exact -and extensive knowledge of history, and so are -not qualified to judge how far they have been -accomplished; that to such persons as these, I -say, the argument from prophecy should not -appear to have all that evidence which believers -ascribe to it, is very likely; but then this effect -is to be accounted for, not from their knowledge, -but their ignorance, not from their <i>seeing</i> -too clearly, but from their not seeing at all, or -but imperfectly, into the merits of this argument. -As for those, who have searched deepest, -and inquired with most care into this kind -of evidence, they depose unanimously in its -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span> -favour, and profess themselves to have received -conviction from it. So that, although there -may be difficulties in explaining particular prophecies, -and though the completion of some -be questioned, or not fully apprehended, yet, -on the whole, there is so much light arising out -of this evidence, that it must be great presumption -in any man to say that there is no strength -at all in it. Indeed, if the appeal lie to authority -(as it must do, if men will not, or cannot, -inquire for themselves) we can scarce help concluding -that the argument from prophecy carries -with it a very considerable degree of evidence, -since we find that such a man as Newton, not -only submitted to this evidence himself, but -thought it no misapplication of his great talents, -to illustrate and enforce it. Yet, such is the -judgment or temper of our leaders<a id="FNanchor_130" href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">130</a> in infidelity, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span> -that they had rather turn this very circumstance -to the discredit of human nature -itself (exhibited in its fairest form, and shining -out with full lustre, in the virtues and accomplishments -of that divine man) than allow it -to do honour to that immortal object of their -fear and spite, revealed religion.</p> - -<p>2. The other great foundation of our faith is -laid in <small>MIRACLES</small>; a sort of evidence, which -may be estimated without that learning, or that -sagacity, which is required in the case of <i>prophecies</i>; -and which some men therefore, out -of the abundance of their common sense, have -taken the freedom to account of little weight -or value. Yet, what opinion soever these -persons may have of their own understandings, -they will scarce be able to convince a reasonable -man that this evidence is not conclusive, -and even incontestible, if they will but place -it in a fair and just light. For the question is -not concerning the evidence of miracles in <i>general</i>, -but of miracles so circumstanced and so -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span> -attested as those of the <i>Gospel</i>. Now, when -the Religion to which this attestation is given, -has nothing in it which appears unworthy of -the Deity; when the purpose for which the -supposed miracles are wrought is such as must -be allowed the most important of any that, in -our ideas, could enter into the divine counsels -with regard to mankind; when these miracles -have further the advantage of being attested by -the most unexceptionable characters, and of -being recorded in books, written soon after -they were <i>wrought</i>, and by those who <i>saw</i> -them wrought, and in books too, which have -been transmitted, without any note of suspicion -on them, to our times; when, lastly, these -miracles have all the circumstances of public -notoriety attending them, when no contemporary -evidence discredits, and when many -otherwise inexplicable facts and events, suppose -and confirm them; when such miracles, I say, -as these, and under such circumstances only, -are alledged in support of the Christian Revelation, -it must be a very extraordinary turn of -mind that can reject, as nothing, the evidence -resulting from them. With any other miracles, -however numerous, however confidently asserted, -or plausibly set forth, we have nothing -to do. There may have been ten thousand -impostures of this sort, in the world. But -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span> -<i>these</i> miracles speak their own credibility so -strongly, that they are admitted, on human -testimony, with the highest reason; and it -must be more than a slender metaphysical argument, -taken from their contrariety to what -is called experience, which can prevent our belief -of them, and overpower the natural sense -of the human mind.</p> - -<p>It seems then, even on this slight view of -the subject, that, if these two capital arguments -from <i>prophecies and miracles</i>, for the -truth of Christianity, appear inconclusive to -unbelievers, the cause must be some other than -a want of that evidence, which may satisfy a -reasonable man.</p> - -<p>II. But, perhaps the <small>DOCTRINES</small> of Christianity -are such as revolt the rational mind, -and are not capable of being supported by any -evidence.</p> - -<p>Let us inquire then what truth there is in -this <i>second</i> allegation of unbelievers.</p> - -<p>It is not possible, in a discourse of this nature, -to enter into a detail on the subject; but -the chief obstacles to a faith in Jesus, independently -of the evidence on which it rests, -are, I suppose, these <small>TWO</small>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span></p> - -<p>1. A confused idea that the law of nature is -sufficient to the salvation of mankind;</p> - -<p>2. The mysterious nature of the Christian -revelation.</p> - -<p>Reason, they say, is a sufficient guide in -matters of Religion; therefore, Christianity is -unnecessary: Again, Christianity is all over -mysterious; therefore, it is unreasonable.</p> - -<p>Now, it will not be presuming too much to -say, that the greater advances any man makes in -true knowledge, the more insignificant must -these <i>two</i> great stumbling-blocks of infidelity -needs appear to him.</p> - -<p>1. And, <i>first, for the sufficiency of nature -in matters of religion</i>.</p> - -<p>Whether <i>nature</i> be a sufficient guide in <i>morals</i>, -let the history of mankind declare. They -who know most of that history, and have, besides, -a philosophic knowledge of human nature, -are the proper judges of the question; -and to that tribunal I leave it: the <i>rather</i>, -because, though it be very clear what its decision -must be, I hold, that what is most -essential to the Christian religion (which is a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span> -very different thing from <i>a republication of -the law of nature</i>) is not at all concerned -in it.</p> - -<p>Let the law of nature be what it will, under -this idea of a guide in morals, let Socrates, if -you please, be as great a master of it, as Jesus, -still the importance of Christianity remains, -and is indeed very little affected by that concession.</p> - -<p>Our religion teaches, that man is under the -sentence of mortality, and that immortal life -in happiness, (which is the true idea of Gospel-salvation) -is the gift of God through Christ -Jesus. These it relates as <i>two</i> facts, which it -requires us to believe on its own authority; -<i>facts</i>, which could not otherwise have come to -our knowledge, and on which the whole superstructure -of Christianity is raised.</p> - -<p>Now, let the men of reason, the men who -say, <small>WE SEE</small>, tell us, whether they are sure -that these facts are false; and, if they are not, -whether they know of any natural means by -which <i>that sentence of mortality</i> can be reversed, -or <i>that gift of immortality</i> can be -secured. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span></p> - -<p>Yes, they will say, by <i>a moral and virtuous -life</i>, and by a <i>religious trust</i>, which nature -dictates, <i>in the goodness of the Deity</i>. What? -Is any man so assured of his own virtue, as -that he dares expect so great things from it? -Does he think it so perfect and of such efficacy, -as that it should remove a curse which lies on -his nature, that it should redeem him from a -general sentence, which is gone forth against -all mankind? Is it not enough, that he does -his duty (though where is the man that does -that?) and thereby consults his own true interest -in this world, without requiring that his -merits should deliver him from the doom of -death; or that, of force, they should compel -the divine <i>goodness</i> to deliver him from it?</p> - -<p>But say, that the boundless mercy of God -might so far consider the poor imperfect -virtues of his lost creature, as to free him from -the bondage of <i>death</i>, will he pretend that he -has any claim, even upon infinite goodness -itself, for <i>eternal life in glory</i>? All that reason -suggests is, that, some way or other, either -in this state or in one to come, he shall be no -loser by his virtue: but so immense a reward -is surely, not of <i>right</i>; and reason is too modest -to entertain the least expectation, or even -thought of it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span></p> - -<p>You see then what the <i>sufficiency of nature</i> -comes to: It leaves us, for any thing we know, -under the sentence of <i>death</i>; and, for any thing -we can do, very much short of <i>eternal life</i>. And -is this all we get by following <i>nature</i>, as our all-sufficient -guide, and rejecting the assistance -of <i>Revelation</i>? Are men satisfied to live, as -they do here, and then to die for ever; and all -this, rather than condescend to lay hold on the -mercy of God through Jesus? If they are, -their ambition is very moderate; but, surely, -this is not a moderation of that sort which is -prescribed by <i>reason</i>.</p> - -<p>2. But they fly now (and it is their last resource) -to the <i>mysterious nature of the dispensation -itself</i>, which, they say, is perfectly -irreconcileable with the principles of natural -reason.</p> - -<p>That Christianity is <i>mysterious</i>, that is, that -it acquaints us with many things which our faculties -could not have discovered, and which -they cannot fully comprehend or satisfactorily -explain, is an undoubted truth.—The pride of -reason, when, from human sciences, where it -saw much and thought it saw every thing, it -turns to these divine studies, is something mortified -to find a representation of things very -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span> -different from what it should previously have -conceived, and impenetrable in many respects -by its utmost diligence and curiosity. But -then, when further exercised and improved, -the same reason presently checks this presumption, -as seeing very clearly, that there are inexplicable -difficulties every where, in the world -of <i>nature</i>, as well as in that of <i>grace</i>, and as -seeing too, that, if both systems be the product -of infinite wisdom, it could not be otherwise. -Next, a thinking man, as his knowledge -extends, and his mind opens, easily -apprehends, that, in such a scheme as that of -Christianity, which runs up into the arcana of -the divine councils in regard to man, there will -be many particulars of a new and extraordinary -nature; and that such a dispensation must -partake of the obscurity in which its divine -Author chuses to veil his own glory.</p> - -<p>Thus, we see, how the objections to the -mysterious nature of the Gospel spring out of -pride and inconsideration, and are gradually -removed, as the mind advances in the further -knowledge of God and itself.</p> - -<p>Now, suppose there had been no mysterious -parts in this Revelation, and that every thing -had lain clear and open to the comprehension -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span> -of natural reason, what would the improved -understanding of a wise man have thought of -it? Would he not have said, that the whole -was of mere human contrivance? since, if it -were indeed of divine, it must needs have -spoken its original by some marks of divinity, -that is, by some signatures of incomprehensible -wisdom, impressed upon it. Consider, I -say, whether this judgment would not have -been made of such a Revelation; and whether -there be not more sense and reason in it, than -in that <i>other</i> conclusion which many have -drawn from the mysterious nature of the -Christian religion.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It may appear</span>, from these cursory observations, -that <i>faith and knowledge</i> are no such -enemies to each other, as they have been sometimes -represented; and that neither the <i>evidences</i> -of Christianity, nor the <i>doctrines</i> of it, need decline -the scrutiny of the most improved reason. -Conclude, therefore, when ye hear a certain -language on this subject, that it is equally -foolish, as it is indecent; and that ye may -safely profess a <i>belief</i> in Jesus, without risking -the reputation of your <i>wisdom</i>.</p> - -<p>Another conclusion is, that, when unbelievers -lay claim to a more than ordinary share -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span> -of sense and penetration, we may allow their -claim, if we see fit, for other reasons, but <small>NOT</small> -for their disdainful rejection of our divine religion. -We must have better proofs of their -sufficiency than this, before we subscribe to it. -We may even be allowed to conclude, from -this circumstance of their unbelief, that they -either <i>see not</i> so clearly as they pretend, or -that the case is still worse with them, if they -do. They are ready to ask us, indeed, in the -prompt language of the Pharisees to our Lord, -<i>Are we blind also?</i> To which question, having -such an answer at hand, we need look out for -no other than that of Jesus, <i>If ye were blind, -ye should have no sin; but now ye say we see</i>, -<small>THEREFORE</small> <i>your sin remaineth</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XIX">SERMON XIX.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 12, 1771.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> viii. 1.</h3> - -<p><i>Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">There</span> is none of our little accomplishments, -or advantages, which we are not apt to -make the foundation of pride and vanity. -When, upon comparing ourselves with others, -in any respect, we <i>entertain</i> a higher opinion -of ourselves than we ought, this sentiment is -called <small>PRIDE</small>. And when we are forward to -<i>express</i> the good opinion, we have of ourselves, -to others, in our words or actions, (even though -such opinion be but proportioned to our desert) -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span> -we give to this disposition the name of <small>VANITY</small>. -Each of these affections of the mind is, a real -vice: <i>Pride</i>, because it violates truth and reason; -and <i>Vanity</i>, because it violates Christian -charity.</p> - -<p>But, of all the subjects of comparison which -betray us into these vices, none is thought to -produce them so easily, and to inflame them -to that degree, as <i>learning or knowledge</i>. And -we see the reason why it should be so. For -knowledge arises from the exertion of our best -and noblest faculties; those faculties which -distinguish us to most advantage, not only -from the inferior creatures, but from each -other. Hence we are naturally led to place a -higher value on this, than other acquisitions; -and to make our pride and boast of that which -is, indeed, the glory of our nature.</p> - -<p>The observation then seems well founded; -and the Apostle advances no more than what -experience teaches, when he affirms in the -text—<small>THAT KNOWLEDGE PUFFETH UP</small>. Where, -however, we are to take notice, that the remedy -for this vice is not ignorance (which, -though for different reasons, is as apt to engender -pride and self-conceit, as knowledge -itself) but Christian love and charity. For, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span> -when the Apostle had brought this charge -against <i>knowledge</i>, <i>that it puffeth up</i>, he does -not say that <i>ignorance</i> keeps men humble, but -that <i>charity edifieth</i>. Whence it appears, that, -to correct this excess of self-love, which we -call pride, the Apostle would not have us renounce -the way of learning and knowledge, -but only increase our love and respect for mankind.</p> - -<p>Charity, then, is the proper cure of <small>LEARNED -PRIDE</small>; and of those unfriendly vices, which -spring from it, <i>sufficiency</i>, <i>self-importance</i>, -and <i>ostentation</i>: And it will be worth our -while to consider, <i>in what</i> <small>RESPECTS</small>, and <i>by -what</i> <small>MEANS</small>, this divine principle of charity -contributes to that end. And this it does</p> - -<p>1. By keeping men steady to that <small>OBJECT</small>, -which they ought to propose to themselves in -the cultivation of knowledge, I mean the <i>edification -of each other—charity edifieth</i>.</p> - -<p>One of the ancient sects of philosophy carried -their admiration of <i>knowledge</i> so far, that -they made it <i>the supreme good</i> of man, and -built their whole <i>moral</i> system (if it might be -called such) on this extravagant idea. Whereas, -common sense, as well as religion, teaches, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span> -that knowledge, like our other faculties and attainments, -is only an instrument of doing good -to others; not to be regarded by us, as the end -of moral action, or a good simply in itself, but -as one of those means by which we may express -our moral character; and promote the common -interest of society, which (in subordination to -the will and glory of God) is the proper end of -man. Now, if we keep this end in view, which -Christian charity sets before us, we shall -neither cultivate knowledge for its own sake -(which is a strain of fanaticism, unsuited to our -present condition); nor for the sake of that -complacency, which may be apt to result from -it; nor solely, for any other selfish purpose to -which it may serve: but we shall chiefly and -ultimately refer it to the use and edification of -our brother; and shall therefore suppress that -inordinate elation of heart and display of vain-glory, -which tend so much to obstruct the -success of our applications to him in this -way.</p> - -<p>2. Charity, estimating the value of knowledge -by the good it <i>actually</i> does to others, -finds the very foundation of pride and vanity, -in the application of it, in a great measure -taken away. For, how divine a thing soever -knowledge may appear to the mind, when -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> -heated by speculation, we shall find, in practice, -that it falls very much short of those glorious -ideas we had formed of it; that the <i>real -service</i>, we are enabled to do to mankind by -our most improved faculties, affords but little -occasion to the gratulations of self-esteem -(which, when resulting from such service, are, -no doubt, more pardonable than in any other -case whatsoever); and that, if such gratulations -arise in us from some slight and partial services -done to others, they are sufficiently checked -and mortified by the general ill success of our -most strenuous endeavours, and best concerted -designs. The philosopher and divine, after -many studious days and sleepless nights, are -ready to promise to themselves great effects -from their systems and apologies. Alas, the -world is little bettered or improved by them. -Its amusements, its follies, its vices, take their -usual course. Reason and knowledge are found -but feeble instruments of its conversion. It attends -so little, or so negligently to its instructors, -that it remains almost as uninformed, and -as corrupt as before.</p> - -<p>Such is too commonly the issue of our best -pains in the cultivation of moral and religious -truth! Or, if in some rare cases it be otherwise, -and some sensible, some considerable, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span> -benefit result from them, still it will be far less -than the good man wishes and intends. For, -burning with this holy zeal of love to mankind, -the charitable instructor of the ignorant is in -the condition of <small>HIM</small>, whose ambitious zeal the -poet so well describes: His successes do but -inflame his desires; and <i>he reckons he has done -nothing, so long as there remains any thing for -him to do</i><a id="FNanchor_131" href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">131</a>.</p> - -<p>So certainly does charity, in this work of -learned instruction, disconcert and subdue all -the projects and emotions of pride!</p> - -<p>3. Charity takes a sure way to counteract -those movements of vanity and self-applause, -which the pursuits of knowledge are apt to -excite, <i>by confining our attention to solid and -important subjects</i>. For, when the mind is -thus employed, it naturally refers its acquisitions -to <i>use</i>, not vanity; or, if vanity should -still find room to spring up with this crop of -useful knowledge, its growth would be much -checked by this benevolent and social attention: -It would either die away amidst these higher -regards of duty and public spirit, or would lose -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span> -at least very much of its malignant nature, and -of those qualities which render it so offensive to -mankind. Whereas, when we employ ourselves -on frivolous or unimportant subjects, which -offer nothing to our view besides the ingenuity -of the speculation, and the distinction of the -pursuit, these ideas are so present to the mind, -and engross it so much, that vanity and self-esteem -almost necessarily spring from them, -luxuriant and unrestrained.</p> - -<p>Besides, the mind, which loves to justify -itself in all its operations, finding but little real -use or worth in these disquisitions, strives to -make itself amends by placing an imaginary -value upon them; and grows so much the -more enamoured of them, as it foresees and -expects the neglect and indifference of other -men.</p> - -<p>Hence, the sufficiency of such persons as -wholly employ their time and pains in the -more abstract studies, in the minuter parts of -learning, and universally in such inquiries as -terminate only or chiefly in curiosity and -amusement, is more than ordinarily glaring -and offensive. Their minds are <i>puffed up</i> -with immoderate conceptions of their own importance; -and this unnatural tumour they are -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span> -neither able, nor willing, to conceal from others. -The secret is, they would persuade themselves -first, and then the world, that their studies -and occupations are less frivolous, than they -in earnest believe or suspect them, at least, -to be.</p> - -<p>Now, Charity, indisposing us to these fruitless -speculations, and delighting to cultivate -such parts of knowledge as have a real dignity -in them, and are productive of light and use, -tends directly to keep us modest, by taking -away this so natural temptation to pride and -self-conceit.</p> - -<p>4. Further, we may observe that, of the -more important studies themselves, such as we -call <i>practical</i>, are less liable to this perversion -of vanity, than the speculative, to what important -ends soever they may ultimately be referred. -And the reason of the difference is, -that, in the former case, the calls of charity -upon us are more instant. We cannot stir a -step in practical meditations without considering -what use and benefit may result from them: -while the speculative seem to terminate in -themselves; are pursued, for the time at least, -for their own sakes; and so, by keeping the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span> -ultimate end out of sight, do not divert the -mind enough from that complacent attention to -its own ingenious researches, whence the passion -of pride is apt to take its rise.</p> - -<p>Not but there are some parts of knowledge, -which, though called practical, and referring -indeed to practice, have a different effect. But -these are such, as are in their own nature -boastful and ostentatious; calculated not so -much for use, as pleasure; or, at most, terminating -in some private and selfish end. The -proficients in these popular arts and studies are -tempted to regard, not the good <i>simply</i>, which -their knowledge might do to others, but the -general influence of it, and the consideration, -which, by means of such influence, whether to -a good or bad purpose, they may draw to themselves.</p> - -<p>Of this sort was, too commonly, the study -of eloquence in the ancient, and sometimes, I -doubt, in the modern world. Vanity is apt to -mix itself with these practical studies, and to -result from them; the question generally being, -not how the greatest good may be effected by -them, but how the greatest impression may be -made. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span></p> - -<p>Divine and moral subjects, <i>practically</i> considered -(though vanity may creep in here), are -more secure from this abuse. For, respecting -the spiritual and moral good of men, distinctly -and exclusively, a regard to the end must correct -and purify the means. And thus we are -not surprised to find, that, while a vain rhetorician<a id="FNanchor_132" href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">132</a> -is said to have boasted, in the hearing -of all Greece, that <i>he knew every thing</i>, the -sober moralist of Athens<a id="FNanchor_133" href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">133</a> readily confessed, <i>he -knew nothing</i>.</p> - -<p>5. Another way, in which <i>charity</i> operates -to the suppression of <i>pride</i>, is, <i>by increasing -our good opinion of other men</i>. <i>Pride</i> is an -elation of mind upon comparing ourselves with -others, and observing how much we excel -them in any respect; and, in the present -instance, how much we excel them in point -of <i>knowledge</i>. When the mind is wholly -occupied by <i>self-love</i>, it easily magnifies its -own attainments, and as easily diminishes -those of others: whence the advantage, on a -comparison, must needs be to <i>itself</i>. But -when <i>charity</i>, or the love of others, prevails -in us to any degree, we are willing to do them -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span> -<i>justice</i> at least, and <i>but</i> justice to ourselves: -nay, our affection to others makes us willing -to see their good qualities in the fairest light, -to magnify to ourselves their excellencies, and -to lessen or overlook their defects; while on -the other hand, it inclines us readily to forego -any undue claims of pre-eminence, and even to -abate something of what we might strictly -claim to ourselves: whence the comparison -must be more favourable to <i>others</i>; and our -pride, if not entirely prevented, must be considerably -reduced. Increase this charity, and -the pride still lessens; till, at length, it is -almost literally true, as the Apostle divinely -expresses it, that, <i>in lowliness of mind, each -esteems other better than himself</i>; <i>better</i>, in -respect to <i>knowledge</i>, as to every thing else.</p> - -<p>6. Lastly, charity, not only by its qualities, -but in the <i>very nature of things</i>, is destructive -of all <i>pride</i>. For what is pride, but an immoderate -<i>love</i> of ourselves? And what is charity, -but a fervent <i>love</i> of other men? It is the same -passion of love, only directed to different objects. -When it is concentred in a man’s self, it naturally -grows abundant and excessive: divert -some part of it upon others, and the selfish -love is proportionably restrained. Just as -seas and rivers would overflow their shores and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span> -banks, if they had no outlet or circulation: but -issuing forth in useful streams or vapours to -refresh the land, they are kept in due proportion, -and neither deluge the rest of the globe, -nor drain themselves. Thus the affection of -<i>love</i>, if too much confined, would overflow in -<i>pride and arrogance</i>; but, when part of it is -diffused on others, the rest is innoxious and -even salutary, as supplying the mind only with -a <i>just and moderate self-esteem</i>.</p> - -<p>Hence we see that charity, by its very -operation, corrects the excesses of self-love; -and therefore of learned pride (which is <i>one</i> of -those excesses) as well as any other vice, which -the confined and inordinate exercise of that -passion is apt to produce.</p> - -<p>In these several ways then, whether, by -prescribing the proper <i>end</i> of knowledge, <i>the -edification of our neighbour</i>, an attention to -which must needs lessen the temptation to -pride; or, by suggesting how <i>imperfectly</i> that -end is attained by knowledge, which must -mortify, rather than inflame our pride; or, by -confining the candidates of knowledge <i>to solid -and important subjects</i>, and, of <i>these</i>, rather -to <i>practical</i> subjects, than those of speculation, -both which pursuits are unfavourable to the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> -growth of pride; or, by increasing <i>our good -opinion of others</i>, engaged in the same pursuits -of knowledge, which must so far take -from our fancied superiority over them; or, -lastly, <i>by the necessary effect of its operation</i>, -which is essentially destructive of that vicious -self-love, which is the parent of such fancies—In -<i>all</i> these respects, I say, it is clearly seen -how <small>CHARITY</small>, whose office it is to <i>edify</i> others, -is properly applied to the cure of that tumour -of the mind, which knowledge generates, and -which we know by the name of <small>LEARNED -PRIDE</small>.</p> - -<p>There are many other considerations, no -doubt, which serve to mortify this pride; but -nothing tends so immediately to remove it, as -the increase of charity. It is therefore to be -wished, that men, engaged in the pursuits of -learning, would especially cultivate in themselves -this divine principle. Knowledge, when -tempered by humility, and directed to the ends -of charity, is indeed a valuable acquisition; -and, though no fit subject of vain-glory, is -justly entitled to the esteem of mankind. It -should further be remembered, that this virtue, -which so much adorns knowledge, is the peculiar -characteristic grace of our religion; without -which, all our attainments, of whatever -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span> -kind, are fruitless and vain. Let the man of -Science, then, who has succeeded to his wish -in rearing some mighty fabric of human knowledge, -and from the top of it is tempted with -a vain complacency to <i>look down</i>, as the phrase -is, <i>on the ignorant vulgar</i>; let such an one -not forget to say with <small>HIM</small>, who had been -higher yet, even as high as <i>the third Heaven<a id="FNanchor_134" href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">134</a></i>, -“<i>Though I understand all mysteries, and all -knowledge, and have not charity, I am nothing</i><a id="FNanchor_135" href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">135</a>.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XX">SERMON XX.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 19, 1769.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Acts of the Apostles</span>, xxvi. 9.</h3> - -<p><i>I verily thought with myself, that I ought to -do many things contrary to the name of -Jesus of Nazareth.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> case of the Apostle, Paul, as represented -by himself in these words, is so remarkable, -that it cannot but deserve our attentive -consideration.</p> - -<p>The account of <i>those many things</i>, which -he thought himself obliged <i>to do against the -name of Jesus</i>, during his unbelieving state, -he gives us in the chapter whence the text is -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span> -taken. <i>These things</i>, continues he in his -apology to king Agrippa, <i>I did in Jerusalem, -and many of the Saints did I shut up in prison, -having received authority from the chief-priests; -and when they were put to death, I -gave my voice against them. And punished -them oft in every synagogue, and compelled -them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly -mad against them, I persecuted them, even to -strange cities.</i> And then he proceeds to speak -of his going, with the same authority, and the -same zeal, to persecute the Christians that -were at Damascus; when, in his journey thither, -he was suddenly stopt in the career of -his impiety by <i>a heavenly vision</i>, which had -the effect to overturn his former persuasion, -and to make a full convert of him to the -Christian faith.</p> - -<p>1. From this account of himself, we learn, -that Paul, in his Jewish state, had been carried, -by his zeal, into all the horrors of persecution. -And <i>these things</i>, he says, <i>he verily -believed he ought to do, contrary to the name -of Jesus</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span></p> - -<p>“But what, you will ask, did this <i>belief</i> -then justify those crimes? And, are blasphemy, -murder, and persecution, innocent things, from - -the time that a man persuades himself he ought -to commit them? This would open a door to -all the evils of the most outrageous fanaticism, -and evacuate the whole moral law, under the -pretence of conscience.”</p> - -<p>In general, it would do so: and we shall -presently find, that St. Paul does not pretend -to justify <i>himself</i>, notwithstanding <i>he verily -believed he ought to do these things</i>. But to -see the degree of his crime, it will be convenient, -and but just to the criminal, to call to -mind, in the first place, the peculiar circumstances -under which it was committed.</p> - -<p>Paul was at that time a Jew; and, as a follower -of this law, his conduct, supposing his -conscience to have been rightly informed, had -not been blameable; on the contrary, had been -highly meritorious. For the law of Moses -made the restraint of opinions, in matter of -religion, lawful: Heterodoxy was to a Jew but -another word for disloyalty; and a zeal to see -the rigour of the law executed on that crime, -was the honour of a Jewish subject. Paul, -then, conceiving of Jesus as a false prophet, -and the author of a new worship, contrary to -that of the God of Israel, Paul, I say, regarding -Jesus in this light, but conformed to the spirit -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span> -of the law, when he joined in persecuting the -Jewish Christians, and must esteem himself to -have deserved well of it.</p> - -<p>And this he, in fact, did. For, reckoning -up the several merits, which, as a Jew, he -might claim to himself, he mentions this zeal -of persecution, as one, which did him honour, -under that character—<i>Concerning zeal</i>, says -he, <small>PERSECUTING THE CHURCH</small><a id="FNanchor_136" href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">136</a>.</p> - -<p>The crime of Paul, then, as of the other -Jews, in persecuting Christ and his religion, -was not <i>simply</i> the crime of persecution (for, -had that religion been a false one, by the peculiar -structure of the Jewish œconomy, there -would have been no crime at all in punishing -such of the Jews, as professed themselves of it); -but his guilt was, and, in general, the guilt of -the other Jews was, in misapplying the law to -this particular case; in persecuting a just and -divine person, whom their own prophets had -foretold and pointed out, who came in no opposition -to the Jewish law, nay, who came -<i>not to destroy</i>, but <i>to fulfill</i><a id="FNanchor_137" href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">137</a>.</p> - -<p>The conclusion is, that, though <i>persecution</i> -be on no pretence of conscience excusable in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span> -another man, yet in a Jew, and as directed -against an apostate Jew, it had not this malignity, -and was not the proper subject of his -abhorrence<a id="FNanchor_138" href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">138</a>.</p> - -<p>To the question then, “Whether Paul’s belief -justified his practice, in the case before us, -that is, whether he did right <i>in doing that -which he verily believed he ought to do</i>,” You -may take his own answer—<i>This</i>, says he, <i>is -a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, -that Christ Jesus came into the world -to save sinners</i>, <small>OF WHOM I AM CHIEF</small><a id="FNanchor_139" href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">139</a>. He -owns himself, we see, to have been <i>the chief -of sinners</i>, that is, making all allowance for -the hyperbole and modesty of the expression, -a very great sinner. And if you ask in what -respect, he tells you that, too: for, in the immediately -preceding verses, he declares the -ground of this charge upon himself, <i>That he -had been a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and -injurious</i>. And in another place he says of -himself, <i>I am the least of the Apostles; that -am not meet to be called an Apostle, because I -persecuted the church of God</i><a id="FNanchor_140" href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">140</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span></p> - -<p>You see, then, that, notwithstanding his -former religion authorized him to persecute its -enemies, notwithstanding he verily believed, -that he ought to persecute Jesus as such, yet he -now condemns himself, as having grievously -sinned in giving way to that authority, and to -that persuasion. How is this conduct to be -accounted for and made consistent? plainly, -by observing, that he had persecuted without -warrant, even from his former religion; that -he had culpably and rashly overlooked (what -he might and ought to have seen) that Jesus -was no fit object of this severity even to a Jew, -that he was no enemy or subverter of the Jewish -law, that he was no rebel to the God and king -of Israel, but came indeed from him, acted by -his commission, and displayed all the signs -and credentials of the Messiah, in whom the -law and the prophets were finally to be completed.</p> - -<p>Without doubt, his being now of a religion, -which forbad persecution, under all its forms, -sharpened his sense of this crime, and may -perhaps account for his calling himself the <i>chief</i> -of sinners; yet, that the persecution of Christians -was to him a crime, and that he had sinned -in committing it, he could not but know, -and is clearly to be inferred from his expression. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span> -All the use he makes of his Jewish persuasion, -is, but to palliate something what he knew was -without excuse:—<i>I obtained mercy</i>, says he, -<i>because I did it ignorantly in unbelief</i>: that -is, because I persecuted in my <i>unbelieving</i> -state of a Jew, and was kept, by the genius of -the Mosaic law, from <i>knowing</i> and considering -the general malignity of persecution. And that -there may be some ground of mercy in this -consideration, who can doubt, when we find -the Son of God interceding for his very murderers -on the same principle—<i>Father</i>, says -he, <i>forgive them, for they know not what -they do</i>.</p> - -<p>There was this difference, you see, between -a Jewish and a Gentile persecutor. The <i>Jew</i> -was answerable for his not seeing that Jesus -was the Messiah: The <i>Gentile</i> was to answer -for that ignorance, and for his not seeing the -general iniquity of persecution, on account of -religion.</p> - -<p>Paul, however, was certainly to blame; nay, -he takes much blame on himself, for acting -<i>ignorantly</i> against the name of Jesus, though -his ignorance was of the former kind only.</p> - -<p>2. But now another question, and a very -important one, arises out of this state of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span> -case. Paul <i>verily thought</i> that the religion of -Jesus was an imposture. Yet he was <i>mistaken</i> -in thinking so; and, what is more, his mistake -was highly <i>criminal</i>.</p> - -<p>What then shall we say to those persons, -who affirm, that, provided a man be <i>persuaded</i> -of the truth of his opinions, he is not answerable -for his mistakes? or, in other words, what -becomes of that notion which many have taken -up, concerning <i>the innocency of error in matters -of religion</i>?</p> - -<p>I understand what is generally alledged in -support of this candid and conciliating opinion. -But the text says expressly, that Paul <i>verily -believed he ought to do many things contrary to -the name of Jesus</i>; and with all this firmness -of belief Paul was <i>the chief of sinners</i>.</p> - -<p>Men therefore conclude too hastily, when -from the sole <i>persuasion</i> of their sincerity they -infer the innocence of their errors.</p> - -<p>“But what then would you require of poor -unhappy man, whose <i>reason</i> is naturally so -weak, and whose <i>prejudices</i> are often so strong?” -Why, to use the force he has; to consider well -whether he be indeed sincere (for to be firmly, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span> -and to be <i>sincerely</i> persuaded, is not always the -same thing); to employ his reason, such as it -is, with care, and to controul his prejudices, -what he can, by an impartial examination.</p> - -<p>All this, it will be answered, is already done. -It may be so. Let me then have leave to interrogate -the sincere rejecter of Christianity, -and try his good faith, of which he is so well -assured, by the following questions.</p> - -<p>“Has he cultivated his mind, and furnished -himself with the requisite helps for religious -inquiry? Has he studied the sacred volumes -with care? Has he considered their scope and -end? their genius and character? Has he fixed -the boundaries of reason and of faith? Does he -know where the province of the former ends, -and where that of the second commences? -Has he studied himself, his faculties and -powers, his wants and necessities? Has he -weighed the importance of the search, he is -making into the will and word of God? Has -he made that search with a suitable diligence -and sobriety? Has he accustomed himself to -the investigation of moral evidence? Has he -collected, compared, and estimated, what is -brought in evidence for the truth of the Christian -religion? Has he, in short, (for I address -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span> -myself to capable inquirers only) omitted none -of those means which reason requires, and employed -all that industry, and thought, and application, -which the sincere love of truth demands -on so momentous an occasion?</p> - -<p>“Still, I have other inquiries to make. Has -he approached the sanctuary of religion with -awe? Has he purged his mind from all gross, -nay from all refined vices? Had he no interest -to serve, no prejudice to sooth, no predominant -passion to gratify, by a hasty conclusion -concerning the truth of Christianity? -Or, (not to suspect a philosophic mind of these -vulgar illusions) had he no vanity to flatter, no -capricious levity to indulge, by a short and -disdainful rejection of it? Had he no spleen -to divert, no regard of fashion, no partialities -of acquaintance or education to mislead him, -from conviction? Had he no secret wish or -hope, which he scarcely durst tell to himself, -that his inquiry would end in doubt at least, if -not in infidelity? In a word, can he assure -himself, that in these several respects, he had -no bias on his mind, or did his best at least to -have none, against a conclusion, to which an -impartial love of truth might invite and compell -him?” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span></p> - -<p>Had St. Paul himself been questioned in this -manner, concerning his sincere belief, that he -<i>ought to do many things contrary to the name -of Jesus</i>, he would hardly, I suppose, have -said, that he had fulfilled all these conditions;—But -we know what he did say, to himself -and to the world: He said, He was <small>THE CHIEF -OF SINNERS</small>.</p> - -<p>So remote is persuasion from sincerity! and -so little acquainted, many times, are <i>innocence -and error</i>!</p> - -<p>But ‘these questions, it will be said, may -be retorted on the believer; who may be neither -more diligent, nor more impartial in his inquiries, -than the unbeliever.’</p> - -<p>Allow that they may; yet observe the immense -difference of the two cases, in regard -both to the <i>danger</i> incurred, and to the <i>crime</i> -committed.</p> - -<p>If I <i>believe</i>, on insufficient grounds, what do -I lose? only what I can well spare; my unbelief -and my vices. And what do I gain? -that, which of all things is most precious to -me; peace of mind, and the hopes of heaven. -On the other hand, if I <i>disbelieve</i>, I lose all -that is valuable in both worlds, and gain nothing -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span> -but the sad privilege of being set free from the -restraints of this religion<a id="FNanchor_141" href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">141</a>.</p> - -<p>Consider, too, the difference of the <i>crime</i>, in -the two cases. If the Christian errs in admitting -the truth of his religion, he has only to -answer for his ill judgment, at most: he could -be drawn to this persuasion by no criminal motives: -for, which of these could bias him to -the belief of the holiest of all religions? If the -error lies on the other side, in rejecting this -religion, how shall he know, that, besides the -blame of judging ill, some immoral purposes -and dispositions may not have secretly -concurred to pervert his judgment? The -Christian may be unreasonable: but the unbeliever, -I do not say, certainly, but, is too -probably <i>vicious</i>.</p> - -<p>Thus the danger, in all views, is on the unbelieving -side. And if there be difficulty in -knowing when I am sincere, there is none in -knowing which of the two mistakes is safer and -less criminal.</p> - -<p>It will be said, perhaps, that an inquirer -may be biassed in favour of Christianity by corrupt -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span> -motives, that is, by views of <i>credit</i> or <i>interest</i>, -attending the profession of it, in countries -where this religion is legally established. -Without doubt. But such persons can hardly -put themselves in the case of St. Paul, and say, -They are <i>verily persuaded</i>, they ought to be -Christians. For such gross motives can be no -secret to their own hearts, and they cannot but -know that Christianity condemns all such motives. -I regard then such persons in the light -of <i>hypocrites</i> confessed, and by no means in -that of <i>believers</i>. On the other hand, men may -<i>affect</i> to disbelieve from the like views of <i>credit</i> -or <i>interest</i>, in certain circumstances; and so become -hypocrites of another kind; of which the -number is, perhaps, not inconsiderable. But -I am here speaking of such corrupt partialities -as may consist with a firm belief, or disbelief -of Christianity. And here it is plain, the criminality -is likely to be much greater in him who -without ground rejects, than in him who too -hastily admits such a religion.</p> - -<p>To conclude, then, with the case of St. Paul, -which has given occasion to these reflexions.</p> - -<p>No firmness of persuasion, it is plain, can -justify a man in being led by it into the commission -of gross and acknowledged crimes. -And the reason is, that no persuasion of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span> -truth of any principle can be greater than that -which every man has that he ought not to commit -such actions. If St. Paul’s persuasion saved -him from this guilt, it was owing to the peculiar -genius of the Jewish religion.</p> - -<p>But, further, St. Paul was blameable for -taking up that <i>persuasion</i>, on which he acted. -His mind had been corrupted by hasty prejudices, -and ungoverned passion. He concluded -too fast, then, when he thought his persuasion -<i>sincere</i>, though it was indeed strong and violent. -His persuasion did not exclude error, -and that error implied insincerity, and so was -not <i>innocent</i>.</p> - -<p>It follows from the whole, that we ought -never to <i>act</i> wrong on the pretence of conscience; -and that we should learn to suspect -the possibility of guilt’s mixing itself even with -what we call our speculative opinions. Error -may be innocent; but not so long as truth lies -before us, and we may, if we do our duty, discover -it. Let our inquiries, then, in all matters -of moment, above all in those of religion, be -diligent, and strictly honest. Where these -precautions are not observed, our mistakes are -always blameable, because in some degree they -are wilful and insincere. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXI">SERMON XXI.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 10, 1767.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, vi. 26.</h3> - -<p><i>Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Among</span> other <i>woes</i> denounced in this -chapter by our Saviour against different sorts -of men, we have one in the text against <i>those, -of whom all men speak well</i>.</p> - -<p>The reason of this severe sentence may not -appear at first sight: first, because it may not -immediately occur to us, what hurt or inconvenience -there can be in every man’s good word; -and, secondly, because every man’s good word -is not likely to be had. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span></p> - -<p>As to this last particular, it is true, the praise -of <i>all men</i>, in the full extent of the words, is -not to be obtained. But the sense of the text -requires, only, that we understand a very -general praise; and this we see many men -obtain: And if we only want to know, in what -respects, the possession of this praise can be -deemed a misfortune, we shall find them, I -suppose, (without looking further) in the following -considerations.</p> - -<p>The <small>WOE</small>, of being <i>well spoken of by all -men</i>, may be apprehended, if we reflect, That -(taking the world as it is) its good word, so -largely bestowed on any man, implies <i>a mediocrity -of virtue, at the best</i>;—that it frequently -implies, <i>a considerable degree of -positive ill-desert</i>;—that it sometimes implies, -<i>a thorough depravity and prostitution of the -moral character</i>.</p> - -<p>From these <small>THREE</small> considerations, I propose -to illustrate the <i>woe</i> of the text.—In moral -discourses, it is scarce possible to avoid very -general assertions. These may sometimes want -to be restrained: but ye will do it for yourselves, -as ye see cause; for the appeal lies, -all along, to your own bosoms and experience. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span></p> - -<p>I. I say then, <i>first</i>; that to be <i>well spoken -of by all men</i>, implies <small>A MEDIOCRITY OF VIRTUE -AT THE BEST</small>.</p> - -<p>And the assertion is founded on many reasons. -An eminent degree of virtue excites -envy; is not generally understood; is unapt to -accommodate itself to men’s views and expectations; -and, lastly, is liable to some excesses, -and connected with some infirmities, which -are either peculiar to itself, or would less disgrace -a virtue of the common stamp.</p> - -<p>Let us weigh these several reasons.</p> - -<p>1. The chapter of <i>envy</i> is a common one, -and has been exhausted by every moralist. -When a man’s worth lifts him above the generality -of his species, he is thought to depress -those who feel themselves beneath him. Their -pride is hurt, their self-love is mortified, by the -acknowledged preference. And in this state of -things, no wonder that much industry is employed -to obscure a virtue, whose unclouded -splendour would give pain.</p> - -<p>2. But men sometimes detract from a superior -character, with perfect good faith. It -is not envy, but <i>inapprehension</i>, which sets -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span> -them on work. For it is with some virtues, as -with those sublimer graces in a work of art of -genius: few, but such as could have set the -example, have any idea or conception of them.</p> - -<p>Thus, a disinterested goodness, when carried -to a certain length; a generosity of mind, -when stretched beyond certain bounds; a sense -of honour, operating to a certain degree; in a -word, temperance, justice, piety, humanity, -any or all of these virtues, exalted to a certain -pitch, are either not comprehended, or are -perhaps traduced, as marks of folly and extravagance, -by those who are not capable of -ascending to these heights themselves. Of -which, the instances are so frequent in all -history, and even in common life, that no man -wants to be reminded of them.</p> - -<p>3. Still, if superior virtue were only envied, -or ill-understood, the misfortune would not be -so great. It is, besides, <i>active, enterprising, -constant, and inflexible</i>. It contents not itself -with being merely passive, innoxious, blameless: -it would oblige, befriend, and merit of -mankind. It would be distinguished by actual -services, or at least by glorious attempts. And -in prosecuting these, it consults no man’s -occasions; bends to no man’s prejudices; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span> -leans to no partial interests or considerations; -is simple, uniform, invariable, and holds on -its course, steadily and directly, towards its -main end and scope. There is a magnanimity -in true worth and goodness, which scorns and -rejects all disguises, and would appear and be -itself.</p> - -<p>A character of this stamp is too awful to be -popular. There is something of terror in so -sublime a virtue; and those who are distinguished -by it, may be esteemed, perhaps, and -revered, but are rarely applauded by the world. -What difference between the divine integrity -of Cato, and the specious temporizing virtues -of Cæsar! Yet, if history had been silent, we -should easily have known which of these men -was destined to be the idol of the Roman -people.</p> - -<p>4. Nor is even this the worst. Virtue, in -this exalted state, is not easily restrained from -running, at times, into certain <small>EXCESSES</small>: -<i>excesses</i>, which spring, as it were, from its -very essence, and which the truly wise allow -for, excuse, and almost admire; but which -hurt the reputation more, with base and ordinary -minds, than the virtue itself, under a -due exertion, serves and promotes it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span></p> - -<p>When the virtuous Brutus, in the crisis of -the Roman state, struggling for its last breath -of liberty, chose rather to put everything to -hazard, than <i>violate the strict forms of law -and justice</i><a id="FNanchor_142" href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">142</a>:—And again, when our virtuous -Falkland was kept, by his nice sense of honour, -from <i>taking some liberties</i><a id="FNanchor_143" href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">143</a>, which the duty -of his place, the public service, and the practice -of all times, might seem to authorize; -when these great men, I say, erred from an -excess of virtue, a thousand tongues were -ready to blaspheme, and even ridicule their -mistakes, while one or two only revered the -honesty of mind, which gave birth to them.</p> - -<p>These glorious excesses, which are frequent -in a virtuous character, hardly deserve the -name of infirmities: yet <i>infirmities</i>, in the -common sense of the word, are the lot of human -nature, in whatever state of perfection. That -heat of mind, which nourishes heroic virtue, is -apt to produce these; and, as the noblest -genius sometimes lets fall inaccuracies, which -moderate talents would correct; so the best -man sometimes commits extravagancies, which -a moderate virtue would avoid: and when this -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span> -mischance happens, the infirmity is sure to be -observed, and never pardoned. Or, let the -weakness be such, as is incident to our common -nature; still its effects are very different; -it shall eclipse half the virtues of an excellent -man, and, in a common character, be either -not seen, or not regarded.</p> - -<p>So true it is, that, to be <i>well spoken of by -all men</i>, implies but an ordinary share of virtue, -at best! For, consider these several circumstances, -and see what a shade they cast on the -reputation of extraordinary men. To shine out -in the full lustre of a general flame, is reserved -for those, <i>whose virtue is not of a size to give -umbrage; whose merits are to the level of all -eyes; who adapt themselves with dexterity to -all occasions; and who are kept, by their very -mediocrity, from any infirmity, or excess</i>.</p> - -<p>And it would be well, if the <i>woe</i> ended here; -if the misfortune of these applauded men were -negative only, and amounted to no more than -the absence of vice, or the possession of virtue -in the common degrees. But, I doubt, it -amounts to much more: it frequently implies</p> - -<p>II. <small>A CONSIDERABLE DEGREE OF POSITIVE -ILL-DESERT.</small> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span></p> - -<p>When the Jews, in a fit of ignorant zeal, -were taking up stones to cast at our blessed -Lord, he said to them: <i>Many</i> <small>GOOD WORKS</small> -<i>have I shewed you from my Father; for which -of</i> <small>THESE</small> <i>works do ye stone me</i><a id="FNanchor_144" href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">144</a>? Intimating, -that the resentment of a misjudging multitude -is generally occasioned by praise-worthy actions. -On the same principle, when shouts of popular -applause are sounding in a man’s ears, he may -reasonably ask, <i>For which of my</i> <small>EVIL DEEDS</small> -<i>is this praise wasted upon me</i>? For it is just -as much to be expected that a clamorous praise -should attend a bad action, as that a clamorous -rage should be excited by a good one.</p> - -<p>And if we look abroad into the world, we -shall find, that it is not virtue, in whatever -degree, but some popular vice, that too oft engages -its warmest approbation. In fact, even a -moderate share of virtue, joined to an inoffensive -character, shall more frequently secure a -man from the censure, than procure him the -applause of mankind. To be generally <i>well -spoken of</i>, he must do more than not offend: -he must merit his reward, before it is conferred -upon him. And, though illustrious services -may sometimes extort this reward, yet the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span> -surer and easier way to obtain it, is to please. And -when I am to please <i>all men</i>, in order to obtain -the suffrage of all, tell me what way there is -of executing this project, without dishonouring -myself. Men are not pleased, unless I humour -their foibles, sooth their vices, serve their ill -ends, or unjustifiable passions; and <i>woe</i> unto -me, if I acquire their good opinion by these -means.</p> - -<p>But suppose I am restrained by some sense -of decency and of duty, and not disposed to -run all lengths in my endeavours to please. -Still it is not nothing, to be silent where -virtue bids me speak; it is something, to give -a man leave to think he is honoured by me -for that which deserves blame; it is base, to -flatter and extoll immoderately even his good -qualities; and it is flagitious to countenance -and inflame his bad ones.</p> - -<p>Yet one or other of these ways must he take, -who is ambitious of every man’s good word. -And is there no <i>woe</i>, think ye, in such a conduct -as this? Suppose I but sacrifice one virtue -to my reputation, but one generous quality to -my passion for fame; still am I innocent in -making this sacrifice? Can I applaud myself -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span> -for making thus free with my moral character? -Or, rather, have I not cause to humble myself -under a sense of my ill-desert?</p> - -<p>Yes, <i>woe</i> to that man, who, to be well with -the world, or with any part of it, deserts any -one virtuous principle, transgresses any one -known duty, corrupts his conscience with any -one deliberate vice. Let the world’s applause -be what it will; he is a loser who gains it on -such terms.</p> - -<p>But I am still putting matters at the best; -For,</p> - -<p>III. Lastly, this general acceptation, this -mighty privilege of being <i>well spoken of by all -men</i>, sometimes, and not unfrequently, demands -a sacrifice, not of one, but all the -virtues: it implies <small>A THOROUGH DEPRAVITY AND -PROSTITUTION OF THE MORAL CHARACTER</small>.</p> - -<p>Our delicacy will not bear to have this -matter pushed home, and brought directly to -ourselves. Our self-love revolts against the -imputation; and no man applies so severe a -censure to his own case, or that of his acquaintance. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span></p> - -<p>Let us look abroad, then, for what we are -willing to shift off so far from us. Let us -look for this opprobrious character in ancient -times, and distant regions, with which we -may take greater liberties, and concerning -which we may discourse without offence. And -when we have found it, let us only remember -that the character is no ideal one; that it is -fairly taken from the annals of human nature, -and may therefore, in part at least, concern -ourselves.</p> - -<p>A noble Roman is described by <small>ONE</small> who -knew him well, in the following manner<a id="FNanchor_145" href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">145</a>: -“He possessed, in a wonderful degree, the -faculty of engaging all men to himself, by -every art of address, and the most obsequious -application to their humours, purposes, and -designs. His fortune, his interest, nay his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span> -person, was wholly their’s; and he was ready -to shew his attachment to them by every -service, and, if occasion required it, by -every crime. He had the most perfect dexterity -in moulding his own nature, and -shaping it into all forms. The men of -austere morals he could gain to himself, by -a well-dissembled severity; the more free -and libertine sort, by an unrestrained gaiety. -He could equally adapt himself to the vivacity -of youth, and to the gravity of old -age: with men of bold spirits and factious -designs, he was prompt, enterprizing, audacious; -with the men of pleasure, he could -be licentious, luxurious, dissolute.”</p> - -<p>What think ye, now, of this character? -With so various and pliable a disposition, could -he fail of being popular? And with so total a -want of principle, can we doubt of his being -abandoned? He was, in truth, both the one -and the other. He was the favourite<a id="FNanchor_146" href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">146</a>, and -the pest of his country: in a word, this man -was, <span class="smcap">Catiline</span>.</p> - -<p>But let us turn our thoughts from such a -prodigy, and conclude only from the instance -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span> -here given, that a character may be much applauded -and very worthless; and that, to be -<i>well spoken of by all</i>, in a certain extent of -those words, one must be, if not a Catiline, -yet an unquestionably vicious and corrupt man.</p> - -<p>I have now gone through the several topics, -I proposed to illustrate in this discourse.</p> - -<p>My more <i>immediate</i> design was, to explain -and justify the text; to shew that it spake not -without reason when it spake, perhaps, somewhat -differently from our expectations; and -that our divine master had abundant cause to -pronounce a <i>woe</i> on those, of whom the world -is so ready to speak well.</p> - -<p>But in doing this, I persuade myself, I have -done more; and, in shewing the reasons of -this <i>woe</i>, have said enough to repress and -mortify that lust of general praise, which is so -fatal to our virtue, as well as happiness. For -what can be more likely to restrain men from -this folly, than to let them see, that the prize, -they so ambitiously contend for, would be a -misfortune to them, if it could be obtained; -since a very general praise is rarely conferred, -at best, but upon a feeble imperfect state of -virtue; is, frequently, the reward of positive -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span> -ill-desert; and is, sometimes, the pay, that -men receive for the greatest <i>crimes</i>.</p> - -<p>These considerations shew the only true -praise to be that which a well informed mind -gives to itself. This praise is pure and unmixed; -is only bestowed on real merit; and is -nicely proportioned to the several degrees of it. -It is the earnest too of every other praise, -which ought to be precious to us. For, when -conscience approves, good men and angels are -ready to applaud: nay, when <i>a man’s heart -condemns him not, then has he confidence towards -God</i><a id="FNanchor_147" href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">147</a>.</p> - -<p>To conclude: it is in this contention of human -life, as in those games of which the ancient -world was so fond: the success consists not in -the acclamations of the attending multitude, but -in the crown which the victor receives at the -hands of the appointed judge. If he obtains -that great prize, it is of little moment whether -the rest follow or not. The applause of the -by-standers may add to the noise and pageantry -of the day; but the triumph is sincere and -complete without it.</p> - -<p>As then it would be arrogance and inhumanity -to reject universally the good opinion -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span> -of the world, so it would be folly, or something -worse, to dote upon it. If it may be -honestly obtained, it is well: if not, let the -friend of virtue; above all, let the follower of -Jesus, console himself, under the loss of it, -with this reflection, “That it is no certain -argument of true honour and true happiness, -nay, that it is a presumption to the contrary, -to be found in the class of those, <i>of whom -all men speak well</i>.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXII">SERMON XXII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 6, 1774.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">John</span> viii. 9.</h3> - -<p><i>Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee; -Go, and sin no more.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Every</span> one understands the occasion of -these words: <i>The absolution of the woman -taken in adultery</i>, says an ancient writer, <i>has -been always famous in the church</i><a id="FNanchor_148" href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">148</a>: Indeed -<i>so</i> famous, that some, who know but little of -the other parts of the Gospel history, pretend -to be well acquainted with this; from which -they draw conclusions so favourable to their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span> -own loose practices, that others of stricter -morals have been disposed to question its authenticity, -and to expunge this obnoxious passage -from the sacred books.</p> - -<p>The attempt, indeed, has not succeeded. -The obnoxious passage is unquestionably authentic. -But what then shall we say to the -narrative itself? How are we to expound it -consistently with the known character of Jesus? -and how are we to obviate the ill consequences -which seem so naturally to flow from it?</p> - -<p>These questions will be answered by considering -attentively the nature and circumstances -of the case: from which it will appear, -that this decision of our Lord is founded on the -highest wisdom; and, when seen in its true -light, affords no countenance to the licentious -glosses of one party, and needs give no alarm -to the scrupulous fears and apprehensions of -another.</p> - -<p>The fact is related by the sacred historian in -these words: “The Scribes and Pharisees -brought to him a woman taken in adultery; -and when they had set her in the midst, they -say to him, Master, this woman was taken -in adultery in the very act. Now, Moses in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span> -the law commanded, that such should be -stoned; but what sayest thou?”</p> - -<p>Thus far we see there was no difficulty. A -crime had been committed, and might be -proved; and their law had appointed the -punishment. Why then do the Scribes and -Pharisees apply to Jesus, for his judgment -in the case? The text tells us; for it follows -immediately—“This they said, tempting him, -that they might have to accuse him.” They -came to him then, not for any information -about the nature of the crime, or of the punishment -due to it; the crime had been distinctly -specified in their law (the authority of which -Jesus admitted, as well as they) and the sort -of punishment had been distinctly specified, -too: But they came with the insidious design -of <i>tempting him</i>; that is, of drawing some -answer from him, which might give them an -occasion to accuse him, either to the people, or -to the rulers of the Jewish state.</p> - -<p>In what then did their temptation consist? -Or, what crime was it, of which, by thus -tempting him, they supposed they <i>might have -to accuse him</i> to the Jews? The answer to this -question will lead us into a proper view of our -Lord’s conduct on this occasion, and will -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span> -enable us to form a right judgment of the -manner in which he disappointed the malice of -his insidious tempters.</p> - -<p>We find in the preceding chapter of St. -John’s Gospel, that <i>the Jews sought to kill him</i>, -ver. 1.; and that, being alarmed at the progress -of his doctrine among the people, <i>the Pharisees -and chief priests had even sent their -officers to take him by force</i>, ver. 32. But -this project failing in the execution, by the -growing favour of the people towards him, and -by the strange impression which the doctrine -of Jesus had made on those officers themselves, -they found it expedient to try other and more -indirect methods.</p> - -<p>For this purpose, having taken a woman in -adultery, they supposed they had now obtained -a certain method of accomplishing their designs -against him. They therefore bring her to him, -and say, <i>Master, this woman was taken in -adultery, in the very act. Now, Moses in the -law commanded us, that such should be stoned: -but what sayest thou?</i></p> - -<p>They concluded, that his answer to this -question must be such as would give them a -sure hold of him. For either it would be, that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span> -the law of Moses was too severe; and then, -they doubted not but he would fall a sacrifice -to the zeal of the people themselves, -from whose favour to him they had now the -most dreadful apprehensions: or, if he justified -this law of Moses, and encouraged the execution -of it (and this conduct they had most -reason to expect, from the known strictness of -his life and doctrine, and from his professed -reverence for the law), in that case, they would -<i>have to accuse him</i> to the Jewish rulers, as -taking to himself a civil and judicial character; -or, rather to their Roman masters, as presuming -to condemn to death an offender by his -own proper authority; whereas <i>it was not -lawful</i> for the Sanhedrim itself, but by express -leave of the Roman governour, <i>to put any man -to death</i><a id="FNanchor_149" href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">149</a>.</p> - -<p>In short, either the people themselves would -kill him on the spot, as a disparager and blasphemer -of the law; or, he would be convicted -of that capital crime, which their rulers wanted -to fasten upon him, of making himself <i>a king</i>, -and so incur the punishment of rebellion to -the state. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span></p> - -<p>Such being the profound artifice, as well as -malice, of this <i>plot</i>, the situation of our Lord -was very critical; and nothing but that divine -wisdom, by which he spake, and which attended -him in all conjunctures, could deliver -him from it.</p> - -<p>Let us see, then, what that wisdom suggested -to him in his present perilous condition.</p> - -<p>Instead of replying directly to their ensnaring -question, “He stooped down, and with his -finger wrote on the ground, as though he -heared them not.” His enemies, no doubt, -considered this affected inattention as a poor -subterfuge; or, rather, as an evident proof of -his confusion, and inability to avoid the snare -they had laid for him; and were ready to exult -over him, as their certain prey, now fallen into -their hands. They therefore repeat and press -upon him their insulting question, urging him -with much clamour to give them an immediate -reply. “So when they continued asking him, -as the historian proceeds, he lift up himself, -and said to them, He that is without sin -among you, let him first cast a stone at her. -And, again he stooped down and wrote on -the ground.” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span></p> - -<p>The divinity of this answer can never be -enough admired. He eluded by it, at once, -the two opposite snares they had laid for him: -he disconcerted all their hopes and triumphant -expectations; and carried, at the same time, -by the weight of this remonstrance, and the -power which he gave to it, trouble, confusion -and dismay into their affrighted consciences. -Without speaking a word against the law, or -taking to himself an authority which he had -never claimed, and which did not belong to -him, he turned their <i>temptation</i> on themselves; -and instead of falling a victim to it, -astonished them with the moral use he had -made of it, and sent them away overwhelmed -with shame, conviction, and self-contempt. -For it follows, “They which heared [this reply] -being convicted by their own conscience, -went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, -even to the last; and Jesus was left alone, and -the woman standing in the midst.”</p> - -<p>This was no time, we see, for declaring his -sense of the law of Moses, or giving his assent -to the execution of it; which, upon the least -signification of his mind, had certainly followed -from the people (such was their united zeal -for the law, and reverence for his opinion). His -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span> -present purpose and duty was to preserve himself -from a captious and malicious question; -but in such a manner as might consist with -truth and innocence, and even with a tender -concern for the moral state and condition of -those questioners themselves.</p> - -<p>No man will then expect, that, in such circumstances, -he should expatiate, to the by-standers, -on the heinous crime of adultery, -objected to this unhappy woman: a point, -concerning which they deserved not, from any -virtuous indignation they had conceived against -it, which they wanted not, from any ignorance -they were under of its general nature, to be -further satisfied or informed. They deserved, -and they wanted to be made sensible of their -own guilt and wickedness; and of this they derived -from Jesus the fullest conviction. This -was the sole purport of our Lord’s reply to -them: any other had been unseasonable and -improper; and therefore no man will now be -surprized to find the issue of this remarkable -conference in the mild dismission which he gives -to the unhappy person, who had furnished the -occasion of it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span></p> - -<p>“When Jesus had lift up himself, and saw -none but the woman, he said to her, Woman, - -where are those thine accusers? Hath -no man condemned thee? She said, No man, -Lord: Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn -thee; go, and sin no more.”</p> - -<p>The story concludes in the very manner we -should now expect from the preceding circumstances. -The accusers of the woman had withdrawn -themselves; being convicted in their -own minds, by the divine energy of Christ’s -reproof, of the very same crime, as some suppose, -but certainly of some crime of equal -malignity with that, which they had objected -to this sinner. Their accusation had not been -formed on their zeal for the honour of the law, -or any antipathy they had conceived to the -crime in question, but on the wicked purpose -of oppressing an innocent man. When they -failed of this end, they thought not of carrying -the criminal before the proper judge, or of -prosecuting the matter any further. To the -question then which our Lord put to her, <i>hath -no man condemned thee</i>, i. e. hath no man undertaken -to see the sentence of the law carried -into execution against thee? she answered, <i>No -man, Lord</i>. <i>Neither do I</i>, continued Jesus, -<i>condemn thee</i>: I, who am a private man, and -have no authority to execute the law; I, who -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span> -<i>came not to judge the world, but to save the -world</i>, I presume not to pass the sentence of -death upon thee. I leave this matter to thine -accusers, and to the proper judge. But what -my office of a divine instructor of mankind -requires, that I am ready to perform towards -thee. Let me admonish thee, then, of thy -great wickedness in committing this act, and -exhort thee to repentance and a better life for -the future; <span class="smcap">Go, and sin no more</span>!</p> - -<p>Every thing here is so natural and so proper, -so suitable to the circumstances of the case, -and to the character and office of Jesus, that no -shadow of blame can fall upon our Lord’s conduct; -nor has any man of sense, who considers -the history, the least reason to conclude that -any countenance is hereby given to the horrid -sin of adultery. The mistake (if it be purely -a mistake) has arisen from the ambiguous sense -of the words, <span class="smcap">I condemn thee not</span>; which -may either signify, <i>I blame thee not, or I pass -not the legal sentence of death upon thee</i>. But -they cannot be here taken in the former sense, -because Christ immediately charges the woman -with her guilt, and bids her <i>sin no more</i>; -Nay, they can only be taken in the latter sense, -because that was the sense in which her accusers -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span> -had <i>not condemned her</i>; for otherwise, -by bringing her to Jesus, and by their vehement -accusation of her, they had sufficiently -testified their sense of her crime. When Jesus -therefore said, <i>Neither do I condemn thee</i>, he -could only be understood to mean, “Neither -do I take upon me to do that which thine accusers -have omitted to do; that is, I do not -condemn thee to be put to death; a sentence, -which however thou mayest deserve -by the law of Moses, I have no authority to -pronounce against thee.”</p> - -<p>It should further be observed, that although -the turn here given by Jesus to this famous -accusation be indeed favourable to the criminal -(and it could not be otherwise, consistently -with his own safety, or even duty) yet it insinuates -nothing against the propriety of a legal -prosecution, nor gives the least countenance to -the magistrate to abate of his rigid execution -of the law which is entrusted to him. The -mixture of mercy and humanity in Christ’s decision -is indeed very amiable and becoming in -a private man; but had the question been, -“Whether it were not fit to prosecute so great -a crime in a legal and regular manner,” there -is no reason to believe that his answer would -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span> -have given any check to the course of public -justice.</p> - -<p>We see then from the whole narrative, and -from this comment upon it, That here is no -encouragement given to any man to think more -slightly of the sin of adultery, than other passages -of the Gospel, and the reason of the thing, -authorize him to do. The sin is unquestionably -of the deepest dye; is one of the most flagrant -that men can commit in society; and is equally -and uniformly condemned by nature itself and -by the Christian morals. If, besides <i>condemning</i>, -that is, expressing his abhorrence of the -sin, as Jesus did, he further made an adulterous -multitude sensible of their iniquity and -savage inhumanity in calling for the sudden and -tumultuary punishment of one, who had deserved -no worse than themselves, this benefit -was accessary and incidental to the circumstances -of the story; and, while it gives one -occasion to admire the address and lenity of our -divine master, takes nothing from the enormity -of the crime itself, or from the detestation -which he had of it. In short, one cannot well -conceive how Jesus could have done more in -the case, or have expressed his displeasure at -the crime more plainly, unless he had become -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span> -a voluntary and officious informer against the -criminal; which, considering the occasion and -his own character, no man, I suppose, would -think reasonable.</p> - -<p>To conclude: if men would call to mind -the purity and transcendant holiness of Christ’s -character, as evidenced in the general tenour -of his history, and considered withall, that -<i>never man spake as he spake</i>, they could not -suspect him of giving any quarter to vice; and -might be sure, that, if what he said on any -occasion, had the least appearance of looking -that way, the presumption must be without -grounds, and could only arise from their not -weighing and considering his words, so replete -with all <i>wisdom</i>, as well as goodness, with a -proper attention. The case before us, we -have seen, is a memorable instance of this -kind: and let all readers of the Gospel be -taught by it, that to understand the Scriptures, -and to cavil at them, are different things. -Let them be warned by this example, not to -impute their own follies to the sacred text, -which they must first misinterpret, before they -can abuse: And, above all, let them take heed -how they <i>turn the Grace of God into licentiousness</i>; -that is, how they seek to justify -to themselves, or even palliate, their own corruptions, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">332</span> -by their loose and negligent, if not -perverse, glosses on the word of God; on that -<small>WORD</small>, by which they must stand or fall; and -which, like the divine Author of it, will surely -in the end <i>be justified in</i> all <i>its sayings, and -be clear when it is judged</i><a id="FNanchor_150" href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">150</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXIII">SERMON XXIII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MARCH 1, 1772.</span></h2> - -<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Matthew</span>, xi. 29.</h3> - -<p><i>Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in -heart: And ye shall find rest unto your -souls.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> moral quality recommended in the -text, was little known and less esteemed<a id="FNanchor_151" href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">151</a> in -the heathen world. Not that <i>humility</i>, in the -Christian sense of the word; hath no foundation -in natural reason: but heathen practice gave -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span> -no countenance to this Virtue, and the pride -of heathen philosophy would make no acquaintance -with her.</p> - -<p>She was left then to be acknowledged, for -the first time, by Jesus of Nazareth, who -knew the worth of this modest stranger; and -therefore, as we see, recommends her to the -notice and familiarity of his disciples in the most -emphatic terms.</p> - -<p>One would wonder how a virtue, so advantageously -introduced into the Christian world, -should be so much neglected by those who -call themselves of it. But the reason is not -difficult to be explained.</p> - -<p>I. It was seen fit, for the ends of human -virtue, that, in moulding the constitution of -our common nature, a considerable degree of -what may be called <i>a generous pride</i>, should -be infused into it. Man, considered in one -view, touches on the brutal creation; in another, -he claims an affinity with God himself. -To sustain this nobler part of his composition, -the subject and source of all his diviner qualities, -the adorable wisdom of the Creator saw -good to implant in him a conscious sense of -worth and dignity; that so a just self-esteem -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span> -might erect his thoughts and endeavours, and -keep him from submitting too easily to what -the baser half of his nature might exact from -him.</p> - -<p>Thus far <small>INSTINCT</small> goes: and, as yet, there -is no blame. But then to moderate this instinct, -(a blind power of itself, and capable of -great excesses) to circumscribe its bounds, and -direct its energies to their true end, <small>REASON</small>, a -much higher faculty, was conferred on man; -and his duty, thenceforth, was to give the reins -to the natural sentiment, only so far as this supreme -arbitress of human life allowed.</p> - -<p>And hence his corruption and misery took -its rise. He felt the <i>instinct</i> draw powerfully; -and he would not take, or would not be at the -pains to ask, the advice of <i>reason</i>, who was -ready to tell him how far he might yield -to it.</p> - -<p>This wilfulness, or negligence, broke the -balance of his moral nature; till <i>reason</i>, in this, -as in so many other instances, was little regarded; -and the instinctive sentiment of <i>self-esteem</i>, -long since degenerated into lawless -pride, was left to domineer as it would; universally, -in the Pagan world, and, though checked -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span> -by this seasonable admonition of our great -Master, too generally in the Christian.</p> - -<p>This is the true account of the first and fundamental -reason, which makes <i>humility</i> so rare -a virtue, and of so difficult practice, even among -the disciples of Jesus.</p> - -<p>II. A <i>second</i> reason is almost as extensive -as the former, because founded upon it; I mean, -the power of <i>habit and institution</i>.</p> - -<p>The bias of our minds towards a just self-esteem, -not properly directed, presently became -<i>pride</i>: and pride, from being a general, was -easily mistaken for a <i>natural</i> principle; which -would then, of course, be unconfined in its -operation, and spread its influence through -every quarter of human life.</p> - -<p>Hence our earliest education is tinctured -with this vicious self-esteem, and all our subsequent -institutions are infected with it. It is -cherished in the schools, under the name of -emulation; and in the world at large, under -that of ambition. Either sex, every age, every -condition, is governed by it. The female -world are called upon to value themselves; and -the male world to assert their own dignity. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span> -The young are applauded for shewing signs of -spirit; and the old must vindicate themselves -from contempt. The lower ranks of men are -not to be trampled upon; and the higher, not -to be affronted. Our camps encourage it, as -the spring of courage: and our courts, as the -source of honour.</p> - -<p>Thus pride predominates every where: and -even the moralist or preacher, who would give -some check to this principle, is thought to -have an abject mind himself, or not to know -that world, which he pretends to inform and -regulate.</p> - -<p>What wonder then that this impatient and -tyrannical passion, which has general custom, -and therefore claims to have reason, on her side, -should yield with reluctance even to the authority -of religion?</p> - -<p>III. <i>Another</i> cause, which contributes to -the same effect, a partial one indeed, but of no -small efficacy, where it prevails, is, perhaps, -the <i>Gothic principle of honour</i>, deeply interwoven -with most of our civil constitutions: a -principle, in itself not friendly to Christian -humility; but, as confederated with the other -two principles before mentioned, what can it -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span> -do but inflame them both, and give an infinite -force to all their operations?</p> - -<p>In these three considerations then, we have -the true account and history of <i>pride</i>, the bane -of civil life, and the disgrace of our moral nature. -It springs, first, from the <i>natural sentiment</i>, -easily indulged too far: it is, next, -fostered by <i>general habit</i>; and, in the end, -made sacred by <i>fashion</i>. Thus, its tyranny -grew up, and is now so complete, that <i>lowliness -of mind</i> is ill looked upon even in the Christian -world; and her offspring, <i>meekness</i>, (the more -provoking of the two, as being that virtue drawn -forth into outward act) seems in a way to be -fairly dismissed from it.</p> - -<p>It would hardly serve to reinstate these despised -virtues in their pristine honours, to tell -of their natures and conditions, to define their -properties, and deliver the grounds of reason -on which their pretensions are founded. Cold, -abstracted philosophy, would do but little in -this service. Besides, few persons want to be -informed what humility is, or how becoming -such a creature as man. And no informations, -in the general way of reasoning, could be given -with so much precision, but that a willing -mind might find a way to mistake or pervert -them. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span></p> - -<p>’Tis well then that the text supplies another -method of combating the universal pride of -mankind. It calls upon us to contemplate, in -the person of Jesus, the true and living form -of <i>humility</i>; and holds out a solid, and suitable -reward to the votaries of this divine virtue. -Would ye know what it is to be <i>meek and lowly -in heart? Learn of Jesus.</i> Do ye ask for -what end ye should learn this lesson of him? -the answer is direct and satisfactory, <i>Ye shall -find rest to your souls</i>. These topics, then, -must employ what remains of this discourse.</p> - -<p>I. The particulars of Christ’s humility may -be seen at large in the history of his life. But -they are summed up by the Apostle Paul in few -words.</p> - -<p><i>Let this mind be in you</i>, says he to the Philippians, -<i>which was also in Christ Jesus: -Who, being in the form of God, thought it no -robbery to be equal with God</i> [i. e. was in no -haste to seize upon and assert his right of -equality with him]; <i>but made himself of no -reputation, and took upon him the form of a -servant, and was made in the likeness of man; -and being found in fashion, as a man, he humbled -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span> -himself, and became obedient to death, even -the death of the cross</i><a id="FNanchor_152" href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">152</a>.</p> - -<p>Who, that hears these words, can have a -doubt concerning the nature of humility, or -concerning the duties of it? If heaven stooped -to earth; if Jesus descended from the dignity, -I do not say of an angel, or an archangel, but -of God himself, to the abject state of man; if -he humbled himself to the lowest condition of -that state; veiled all his glories in the form of -a servant; in that form administered to our infirmities -and necessities; bore all the scorn, -the contradiction, the contumely of injurious -men; and even submitted himself to death, -the ignominious death of the cross, for their -sake—If <i>this mind was in Christ Jesus</i>, who -but must see, that the greatest of mankind may -well descend from all his real or fancied eminence, -for the service of his brother? may -easily forego the little advantage, which his -birth, his rank, his wealth, his learning, or -his parts, may seem to give him over his fellows, -when an act of charity is to be performed -by him; when the distresses, the infirmities, -nay the vices of humanity, may be relieved, -and covered, and corrected, by such condescension? -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span> -To stoop for such ends is almost -pride itself: and to emulate such a pattern, is -scarce humility, but glory.</p> - -<p>Nor think, that this humility requires of you -more than reason requires. You may suppress -your pride, without giving up necessary self-defence. -Ye may be <i>meek and lowly in heart</i>, -without being unjust to yourselves, or imprudent. -When your essential interests are concerned, -ye may assert them with firmness, and -even with spirit, in all ways, which good sense -allows, or true wisdom recommends. But let -not every petty injury, much less any fancied -injury, be presently avenged; let not little -neglects or discourtesies be hastily resented; -overlook many injuries, if not considerable; -nay, and many considerable injuries, if they -be but tolerable. Think not that your dignity -will suffer by such connivance. The true dignity -of man, is the performance of his duty. -Or, if some indignity be sustained, consider on -whose account, and by whose command ye -suffer it. Consider, that He, whose dignity -was infinitely above yours, submitted to <i>every</i> -indignity, and for your sake. The authority -of your divine Master is nothing, if it cannot -bind you in any instance to bear his <i>yoke</i>: And -to what end is the example of your divine -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">342</span> -Saviour set before you, if ye resolve, on no -account, to <i>take up your cross and follow -him</i><a id="FNanchor_153" href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">153</a>?</p> - -<p>But, because our compassionate Lord saw -how uneasy this precept would be to the indulged -and inveterate pride of his followers, he -has therefore condescended to assure them that -their obedience to it will, even in this world, -be attended with a suitable reward. <i>Ye shall -find rest to your souls.</i> And this</p> - -<p>II. Is the other topic, which I engaged to -insist upon, in this discourse.</p> - -<p>The great objection to the virtues of <i>meekness -and humility</i>, is, that the practice of them -will put us to some present pain in resisting -the impulse of our disordered passions. It will -do so. Nature prompts us to repel an injury; -and that nature, vitiated and depraved, is in -haste to repel it with indignation, and even -fury. To give way to the impetuous sentiment, -would give us immediate ease; and to -suppress it, till the practice becomes habitual, -will cost us some throws and agitation of mind. -To counteract this instant disquiet, a recompence -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span> -is proposed, exactly suited to the trial. -Our mind is discomposed, for the instant, by -the struggle we have to make with the incensed -passion: When that is over, it settles again -into a full and permanent tranquillity. <i>We -find rest</i>, as the text speaks, <i>to our souls</i>: -we have the purest peace within, and have -no disturbance of it to apprehend, from without.</p> - -<p>1. The uneasiness which <i>pride</i> engenders, -receives, as I said, some present relief, from -the free course of that passion. But see the -consequence of giving way to it. Disgust, remorse, -fear, and hate, succeed to the indulgence -of this fiery sentiment, I mean, when it -proceeds so far as to acts of revenge. But, if -it stop short of this extreme, still the mind, by -nourishing its resentments, and brooding over -the idea of a supposed indignity, hurts its own -peace; grows sore and fretful, and suspicious; -and, though it be somewhat flattered by the -first tumultuous effort of its indignation, which -looks like courage and high spirit; yet, the -briskness of this sensation soon goes off, and -flattens into a sullen gloom of thought, the -bane of every selfish, as well as social enjoyment. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span></p> - -<p>It is much otherwise with the <i>meek and -lowly in heart</i>. They never retaliate injuries, -and seldom resent them. They either feel not -the stroke of them; or, if they do, the wound -is instantly healed by the balsamic virtue of -their own minds. But, indeed, a man, well -disciplined in the school of humility, receives -but few injuries, for he <i>suspects</i> none; it -being, I think, true, that, for one real injury -done us by others, a hundred such things, as -we call by that name, are only bred in our -own captious and distempered imaginations. -And then, for those few injuries which he actually -receives, they are easily slighted or forgotten -by him; because he sees them only in -their true shape and size, and not as magnified -by an extravagant opinion of his own worth, -and as extravagant a contempt of the aggressor. -He knows his own infirmities, and can allow -for those of other men. If they are petulant -or unjust, he, perhaps, has been inobservant -or imprudent: besides, he never thought himself -entitled to any special respect, and therefore -wonders the less, if no great ceremony has -been used towards him. To these suggestions -of humanity, he adds those of <i>religion</i>. He -knows what his Master enjoins, and he remembers -on what terms the injunction is -pressed upon him. And thus, though the indignity -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span> -seem great, he easily excuses one half -of it, and forgives the other. The issue is, -that he finds <i>rest</i> in his own soul, which the -proud man never does: so that, as to internal -peace, the advantage is clearly on the side of -meekness and humility. But then,</p> - -<p>2. As to <i>external peace</i>, the matter may be -thought more problematical. “For that softness -of mind, which religion calls <i>humility</i>, -invites, it is said, and multiplies injuries. Forgive -one insult, and you draw upon you a -hundred more so that, if humility be a virtue, -it is never likely to be out of breath for -want of exercise and employment. In a word, -the world is so base, that there is no keeping -it in respect, but by <i>fear</i>: and how is that -needful sentiment to be impressed on the minds -of injurious men, in those numberless cases -which civil justice cannot reach, but by a quick -resentment and personal high spirit?”</p> - -<p>Such is the language of those who have learned -their ethics of the world, and not of the Gospel. -But let us see what there is in the allegation -itself.</p> - -<p><i>To connive at one indignity, is</i>, they say, -<i>the ready way to invite another</i>. It may be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span> -so, in some rare cases, when we have to do -with singularly base and ungenerous natures; -but even then, I think, chiefly, if not solely, -when that connivance is joined with imprudence -or folly: and then it is not humility -should bear the blame, but our own indiscretion. -Besides, the question is concerning -a general rule of conduct: and this rule may be -a fit and reasonable one, though it admit, as -most rules do, of some exceptions.</p> - -<p>Again, though a wise and good man will -frequently suppress, and always moderate -resentment, yet neither reason nor the religion -of Jesus requires, that in no case whatsoever -should we be actuated by that principle. The -principle itself, as I have shewn, is a natural -one, and under due restraint may serve to good -purposes; one of which, perhaps, is to give -check to overbearing insolence and oppression, -I mean when it rises to a certain degree and -exceeds certain bounds. Even our blessed Lord, -who was meekness itself, thought fit on some -occasions to express a very strong resentment: -as, when he upbraided the Pharisees in no gentle -terms, but, in a just indignation at their malice, -went so far as to brand them with the bitter -names of <i>vipers and serpents</i>, and to menace -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span> -them with the flames of <i>hell</i><a id="FNanchor_154" href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">154</a>. So that meekness -and resentment are not absolutely incompatible; -though the danger of exceeding in this -last quality is so great, that the general rule -both of reason and Christianity, is to cultivate -meekness in ourselves, and to restrain our resentments.</p> - -<p>“But, if exceptions be allowed in any case, -the rule, it will be said, becomes of no use; -for that pride and passion will find an exception -in every case.” If they should, they must -answer for themselves. In all moral matters, -something, nay much, must be left to the fairness -and honesty of the mind. Without this -principle, the plainest rule of life may be -evaded or abused: and with it, even that hard -saying, of <i>loving our enemies</i>, which is near -of kin to this of <i>meekness</i>, is easily understood, -and may be reasonably applied.</p> - -<p>“Still, the rule, it is said, must be an improper -one; for that the world, not some few -persons, but mankind in general, are only to -be kept in order by <i>force and fear</i>.” So far -as there is truth in this observation, the civil -sword, in every country, supplies that needful -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span> -restraint. But in the general commerce between -man and man, in all offices of civility -and society, that is, in cases where the stronger -passions and more important interests of men -are not directly concerned, as they are in what -relates to property and power, the observation -is clearly not true. Here, pride is the predominant -vice of mankind. And pride is naturally -softened and disarmed by placability and -meekness. The good humour of the world -is easily and most effectually maintained by -mutual concessions and reciprocal civilities: -for pride, having a mixture of generosity in it, -yields to these, and loses all the fierceness of -its nature. So that they, who bring this -charge against the world, calumniate their -kind, and either shew that they have kept ill -company; or, as I rather suspect, have never -tried the experiment, which they say is so -hopeless. Let them learn to think more favourably, -that is, more justly, of human nature. -We are passionate, infirm creatures, -indeed; but still men, and not fiends. Let -them set the example of that <i>humility</i>, which -they affect to think so unpromising a guard -against injuries: and I dare assure them they -will generally find themselves better defended -by it, than by any resentment or high spirit -which they can possibly exert. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span></p> - -<p>Lastly, I would observe, that, if in some -rare instances, and in places, especially, where -fashion has made resentment highly creditable, -this practice be found inconvenient, the rule -is not to be set aside on that account. The -authority of the legislator should exact obedience -to it; and the inconvenience will be -amply compensated by other considerations. We -shall have the merit of testifying the sincerity -of our religion, by giving to God and man so -eminent a proof of it; and, in due time, we -shall have our reward.</p> - -<p>To conclude: in this and all other cases, we -shall do well to <i>learn of Jesus, who was meek -and lowly in heart</i>. His authority, his example, -his affectionate call upon us in the -words of the text, are powerful motives to the -practice of this duty. And for the rest, we -have seen, that it leads directly to <i>peace and -quiet</i>, in our intercourse with each other; or, -if the perverseness of man should sometimes -disappoint us in this expectation, that it will -certainly and infallibly <i>yield rest to our own -souls</i>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">350</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXIV">SERMON XXIV.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 30, 1769.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Luke</span> xvi. 14.</h3> - -<p><i>And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, -heard all those things, and they derided him.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">But</span> what then were <i>those things</i> which -our Lord had said in the hearing of the Pharisees, -and for which they derided him?</p> - -<p>Had he been inveighing against the vice of -covetousness in any unreasonable manner? Had -he carried the opposite virtue to an extreme, -as some moralists have done? Had he told the -Pharisees that the possession, and much more -the enjoyment of riches, was, universally, and -under all circumstances, unlawful? Had he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span> -pressed it as a matter of conscience upon them, -to divest themselves of their wealth, and to -embrace an absolute and voluntary poverty? -Had he even gone so far as to advise these -Pharisees, as he once did a rich man, to <i>sell -what they had and give it to the poor, and -then take up the cross and follow him</i><a id="FNanchor_155" href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">155</a>?</p> - -<p>Alas, no. He had been saying none of -<i>these things</i>. He did not think well enough -of the Pharisees to give this last counsel of -exalted charity to <i>them</i>; a counsel, which he -had addressed to one whom he loved, to one -who was a virtuous man as well as rich, and -who wanted only this <i>one thing</i>, to make him -perfect.</p> - -<p>And as for those other precepts, which would -have implied, that riches were unlawful in -themselves, and the possession of them a crime, -he was too sober a moralist to address a lecture -of this sort to any of his hearers.</p> - -<p>The truth is, he had only been advising rich -men to employ their wealth in such a way as -should turn to the best account, to <i>make themselves -friends of the mammon of unrighteousness</i>; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span> -that is, such friends, as should be able -to repay them with interest, and, when these -houses of clay are overturned, should <i>receive -them into everlasting habitations</i>: and, to -give this advice the greater weight with them, -he had concluded his discourse with saying, -that such conduct was even necessary, if they -aspired to this reward, for that they <i>could not -serve God and mammon</i>; that is, they could -not serve <i>God</i> acceptably, unless they withdrew -their service from <i>mammon</i> in all those -cases, in which the commands of two such different -masters interfered with each other.</p> - -<p>Such, and so reasonable was the doctrine -which Jesus had been delivering to the Pharisees. -And how then could it provoke their -<i>derision</i>?</p> - -<p>The text answers this question—<small>THEY WERE -COVETOUS</small>. Their life was a contradiction to -this doctrine, and therefore they found it unreasonable, -and even ridiculous.</p> - -<p>Nor let it be thought, that this illusion is -peculiar to avarice. It is familiar to vice of -every kind, to scorn reproof; to make light of -the doctrine, which condemns it; and, when -it cannot confute, to deride the teacher. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span></p> - -<p>So that the text affords this general observation, -“That, when the heart is corrupted by -any vice, it naturally breeds a disposition to -unreasonable mirth and ridicule.”</p> - -<p>And, because this levity of mind, in its -turn, corrupts the heart still further, it may -be of use to open to you, more particularly, -<i>the sources of irreligious scorn</i>; to let you -see from how base an origin it springs; how it -rises, indeed, on the subversion of every principle, -by which a virtuous man is governed, -and by which there is hope that a vicious man -may be reclaimed.</p> - -<p>Now ye will easily apprehend how the sinner -comes to cultivate in himself this miserable -talent, if ye reflect; <i>how much he is concerned -to avoid the</i> <small>EVIDENCE</small> <i>of moral truth; how -insensible he chuses to be to the</i> <small>DIFFERENCES</small> -<i>of moral sentiment; how studiously he would -keep out of sight the</i> <small>CONSEQUENCES</small> <i>of moral -action</i>: And if ye consider, withal, how well -adapted <i>the way of ridicule</i> is, to answer all -these purposes.</p> - -<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span>, then, the sinner is much disposed -to withhold his attention from <i>the evidence of</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span> -<i>moral truth</i>; and the way of ridicule favours -this bad disposition.</p> - -<p>When a moral lesson is addressed to us, it -is but a common piece of respect we owe the -teacher of it, and indeed ourselves, to see what -the ideas are of which the doctrine is made up; -to consider whether there be a proper coherence -between those ideas; whether what is affirmed -in the proposition be consonant to truth and -reason, or not. If upon this enquiry we find -that the affirmation is well founded, either -from our immediate perception of the dependency -between the ideas themselves, or from -the evidence of some remoter principle, with -which it is duly connected, we admit it thenceforth -as a truth, and are obliged, if we would -act in a reasonable manner, to pay it that regard -which may be due to its importance. This is -the duty of a rational hearer in the school of -instruction: and this, the process of the mind, -in discharging that duty. But this work of -the understanding, it is plain, requires attention -and seriousness; <i>attention</i>, to apprehend the -meaning of the proposition delivered to us, -and <i>seriousness</i>, to judge of its truth and -moment.</p> - -<p>Indeed, if the result of our enquiry be, that -the proposition is unmeaning, or false, or frivolous, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span> -we of course reject it, and, perhaps, -with some contempt: but then this contempt -is subsequent to the inquiry, and would itself -be ridiculous, if it went before it.</p> - -<p>It is apparent, then, what reason demands -in the case. But the precipitancy of the mind -is such, that it often concludes before it understands, -and, what is worse, contemns what it -has not examined. This last folly is more -especially chargeable on those who are under -the influence of some inveterate prejudice, or -prevailing passion. For, when the moral instruction -pressed upon us, directly opposes a -principle we will not part with, or contradicts -an inclination we resolve to cherish, the very -repugnancy of the doctrine to our notions or -humours creates disgust: and then, to spare -ourselves the trouble of inquiry, or to countenance -the hasty persuasion that we have no -need to inquire at all, we very naturally express -that disgust in contempt and ridicule.</p> - -<p>I explain myself by the instance in the text, -Jesus had said, <i>Ye cannot serve God and mammon</i>. -The Pharisees, who heard him say -this, had taken their resolution, <i>to serve -mammon</i>; and they had, it seems, a principle -of their own, on which they presumed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span> -to satisfy themselves, that they, likewise, -<i>served God</i>. Now, this aphorism of our -Lord coming against these prejudices, they -had not the patience to consider what truth -there was in the assertion; what it was <i>to -serve God</i>, and what it was <i>to serve mammon</i>; -and what inconsistency there was between -these two services. This way of inquiry, -which reason prescribes, was too slow for these -impatient spirits; and, besides, was contrary -to their fixed purpose of adhering, to their old -principles and practices. They therefore take -a shorter method of setting aside the obnoxious -proposition. They conclude hastily, -that their service of mammon was, some how -or other, made consistent with their service of -God, by virtue of their <i>long prayers</i>. And, -for the rest, they condescend not to reason -upon the point at all: to get quit of this trouble, -or rather, to conceal from themselves, if possible, -the deformity of their practice, they slur -an important lesson over with an air of negligent -raillery, and think it sufficient to <i>deride</i> -the teacher of it.</p> - -<p>Ye see then how naturally it comes to pass -that the way of ridicule is taken up by the sinner, -to avoid the trouble and confusion which -must needs arise from a serious attention to the -evidence of moral truth. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span></p> - -<p>II. It serves equally in the next place, to -sooth and flatter his corruption, by keeping -him insensible, as he would chuse to be, to <i>the -differences of moral sentiment</i>.</p> - -<p>The divine wisdom has so wonderfully contrived -human nature, that there needs little -more in moral matters, than plainly and clearly -to represent any instruction to the mind, in -order to procure its assent to it. Whatever -the instruction be, whether it affirm this conduct -to be virtuous, or that vicious, if the mind -be in its natural state, it more than sees, it -feels, the truth or falshood of it. The appeal -lies directly to the heart, and to certain corresponding -sentiments of right and wrong, instantly -and unavoidably excited by the moral -proposition<a id="FNanchor_156" href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">156</a>.</p> - -<p>It is true, the vivacity of these sentiments -may be much weakened by habits of vice; but -they must grow into a great inveteracy indeed, -before they can altogether extinguish the natural -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span> -perception. The only way to prevent this -sensibility from taking place in a mind, not -perfectly abandoned, is to keep the moral truth -itself out of sight; or, which comes to the same -thing, to misrepresent it. For, being then -not taken for what it is, but for something else, -it is the same thing as if the truth itself had not -been proposed to us. But now this power of -misrepresentation is that faculty in which ridicule -excells. Nothing is easier for it than to -distort a reasonable proposition, or to throw -some false light of the fancy upon it. The -soberest truth is then travestied into an apparent -falshood; and, instead of exciting the -moral sentiment which properly belongs to it, -only serves, under this disguise, to provoke -the scorner’s mirth on a phantom of his own -raising.</p> - -<p>The instance in the text will again illustrate -this observation.</p> - -<p>Had the Pharisees seen, that, <i>to serve God</i> -implies an universal obedience to all his laws, -and that, <i>to serve mammon</i> implies an equal -submission to all the maxims of the world, and -that these laws and these maxims are, in numberless -cases, directly contrary to each other, -they would then have seen our Lord’s observation -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span> -in its true light; and they could not -have helped feeling the propriety of the conduct -recommended to them. But the sentiments -arising out of this truth, would have -given no small disturbance to men, who were -determined to act in defiance of them. To -avoid this inconvenience, they had only to put -a false gloss on the words of Jesus; to suppose, -for instance, that by serving God was meant, -to <i>make long prayers</i>, and by serving mammon, -to make a <i>reasonable provision for their -families</i>; and, then, where was the inconsistency -of two such services? In this way of -understanding the text, nothing is easier than -<i>to serve God and mammon</i>. And thus, by -substituting a proposition of their own, in the -room of that which he had delivered, they -escape from his reproof, and even find means -to divert themselves with it.</p> - -<p>III. But, lastly, a vicious man is not more -concerned to obscure the evidence of moral -truth, and to suppress in himself the differences -of moral sentiment, than he is to keep out of -sight <i>the consequences of moral action</i>: and -what so likely as ridicule to befriend him -also in this project.</p> - -<p>When the sinner looks forward into the -effects of a vicious life, he sees so much misery -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span> -springing up before him, even in this world, -and so dreadful a recompence reserved for him -in another, that the prospect must needs be -painful to him. He has his choice, indeed, -whether to stop, or proceed, in his evil course; -but, if he resolve to proceed, one cannot think -it strange that he should strive to forget, both -what he is about, and whither he is going. -And, if other expedients fail him, he very -naturally takes refuge in a forced intemperate -pleasantry. For the very effort to be witty -occupies his attention, and gratifies his vanity. -A little crackling mirth, besides, diverts and -entertains him; and, though his case will not -bear reasoning upon, yet a lively jest shall pass -upon others, and sometimes upon himself, for -the soundest reason.</p> - -<p>This is the true account of that disposition -to ridicule, which the world so commonly observes -in bad men, and sometimes mistakes -for an argument of their tranquillity, when it -is, in truth, an evident symptom of their distress. -For they would forget themselves, in -this noisy mirth; just as children laugh out, to -keep up their spirits in the dark.</p> - -<p>Let me alledge the case in the text once more, -to exemplify this remark. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span></p> - -<p>When our Lord reproved the Pharisees for -their covetousness, and admonished them how -impossible it was <i>to serve God and mammon</i>, -the weight of this remonstrance should, in all -reason, have engaged their serious attention: -and then they would have seen how criminal -their conduct was, in <i>devouring widows houses</i>, -while yet they pretended a zeal for <i>the house -of God</i>; and being led by the principles of -their sect to admit a future existence, it was -natural for them, under this conviction, to expect -the just vengeance of their crimes.</p> - -<p>But vice had made them ingenious, and -taught them how to elude this dreadful conclusion. -They represented to themselves their -reprover in a ridiculous light; probably as one -of those moralists, who know nothing of the -world, and outrage truth and reason in their -censures of it: or, they affected to see him in -this light, in order to break the force of his remonstrance, -and insinuate to the by-standers, -that it merited no other confutation than that of -neglect. They did, then, as vicious men are -wont to do; they resolved not to consider the -consequences of their own conduct; and supported -themselves in this resolution by <i>deriding</i> -the person, who, in charity, would have -led them to their duty. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span></p> - -<p>Thus it appears how naturally the way of -ridicule is employed by those who determine -not to comply with the rules of reason and religion. -They are solicitous to keep <i>the evidence -of moral truth</i> from pressing too closely upon -them: they would confound and obliterate, if -they could, <i>the differences of moral sentiment</i>: -they would overlook, if possible, the <i>consequences -of moral action</i>: and nothing promises -so fair to set them at ease, in these three respects, -as to cultivate that turn of mind, which -obscures truth, hardens the heart, and stupifies -the understanding. For such is the -proper effect of dissolute mirth; the mortal foe -to reason, virtue, and to common prudence.</p> - -<p>I have shewn you this very clearly in the case -of one vice, the vice of avarice, as exemplified -by the Pharisees in the text. But, as I said, -every other vice is equally disingenuous, and -for the same reason. Tell the ambitious man, -in the language of Solomon, that <i>by humility -and the fear of the Lord, cometh honour</i><a id="FNanchor_157" href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">157</a>; -and he will loudly deride his instructor: or, -tell the voluptuous man, in the language of St. -Paul, <i>that he, who liveth in pleasure, is dead -while he liveth</i><a id="FNanchor_158" href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">158</a>; and you may certainly expect -the same treatment. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span></p> - -<p>It is not, that vague and general invectives -against vice will always be thus received: but -let the reproof, as that in the text, be pressing -and poignant, let it <i>come home to men’s bosoms</i>, -and penetrate, by its force and truth, the inmost -foldings and recesses of conscience, and -see if the man, who is touched by your reproof, -and yet will not be reclaimed by it; see, -I say, if he be not carried, by a sort of instinct, -to repel your charitable pains with scorn and -mockery. Had Jesus instructed the Pharisees -<i>to pray and fast often</i>; or had he exhorted -them, in general terms, to keep the law and to -serve God; they had probably given him the -hearing with much apparent composure: but -when he spoke against <i>serving mammon</i>, -whom they idolized: and still more, when he -told these hypocritical worldlings, that their -service of mammon did not, and could not -consist with God’s service, to which they so -much pretended; then it was that they betook -themselves to their arms: they <i>heared these -things</i>, and because <i>they were covetous</i>, they -<i>derided</i> their teacher.</p> - -<p>If this be a just picture of human nature, it -may let us see how poor a talent that of ridicule -is, both in its origin, and application. For, -when employed in moral and religious matters, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span> -we may certainly pronounce of it, That it -springs from vice, and means nothing else but -the support of it. Should not the scorner himself, -then, reflect of what every other man -sees, “That his mirth implies guilt, and that -he only laughs, because he dares not be serious?”</p> - -<p>But Solomon<a id="FNanchor_159" href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">159</a> has long since read the destiny -of him, who would reprove men of this -character. It will be to better purpose, therefore, -to warn the young and unexperienced -against the contagion of vicious scorn; by which -many have been corrupted, on whom vice itself, -in its own proper form, would have made -no impression. For the modesty of virtue too -easily concludes, that what is much ridiculed -must, itself, be ridiculous: and, when this -conclusion is taken up, reflexion many times -comes too late to correct the mischiefs of it. -Let those, then, who have not yet seated themselves -<i>in the chair of the scorner</i>, consider, -that ridicule is but the last effort of baffled vice -to keep itself in countenance; that it betrays a -corrupt turn of mind, and only serves to promote -that corruption. Let them understand, -that this faculty is no argument of superior -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">365</span> -sense, rarely of superior wit; and that it proves -nothing but the profligacy, or the folly of him, -who affects to be distinguished by it. Let them, -in a word, reflect, that virtue and reason love -to be, and can afford to be, serious: but that -vice and folly are undone, if they let go their -favourite habit of scorn and derision. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">366</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXV">SERMON XXV.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED JUNE 25, 1775.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> v. 10.</h3> - -<p><i>He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied -with silver.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">If</span> a preacher on these words should set himself -to declaim against silver, he would probably -be but ill-heared, and would certainly go beside -the meaning of his text.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Silver</span> (or gold) is only an instrument of -exchange; a sign of the price which things -bear in the commerce of life. This instrument -is of the most necessary use in society. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">367</span> -Without it, there would be no convenience of -living, no supply of our mutual wants, no industry, -no civility, I had almost said, no virtue -among men.</p> - -<p>The author of the text was clearly of this -mind; since, on many occasions, he makes -wealth the reward of wisdom, and poverty, of -folly; and since he laboured all his life, and -with suitable success, to multiply gold and -silver in his dominions, beyond the example of -all former, and indeed succeeding, kings of the -Jewish state.</p> - -<p>The precious metals, then, (both for the -reason of the thing, and the authority of Solomon) -shall preserve their lustre unsullied, and -their honours unimpaired by me. Poets and -satirists have, indeed, execrated those, who -tore the entrails of the earth for them; and, -provoked by the general abuse of them, have -seemed willing that they should be sent back -to their beds again. But sober moralists hold -no such language; and are content that they -remain above ground, and shine out in the face -of the sun.</p> - -<p>Still (for I come now to the true meaning -of my text) good and useful things may be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">368</span> -<small>OVER-RATED</small>, or <small>MISAPPLIED</small>; and, in either -way, may become hurtful to us. <i>He, that</i>, in -the emphatic language of the preacher, <small>LOVETH</small> -<i>silver</i>, certainly offends in one of these ways, -and probably in both: and, when he does so, -it will be easy to make good the royal denunciation—that -<i>he shall not be</i> <small>SATISFIED</small> <i>with it</i>.</p> - -<p>1. Now, wealth is surely over-rated, when, -instead of regarding it only as the means of procuring -a reasonable enjoyment of our lives, we -dote upon it for its own sake, and make it the -end, or chief object of our pursuits: when we -sacrifice, not only ease and leisure, (which, -though valuable things, are often well recompensed -by the pleasures of industry and activity), -but health and life to it: when we <i>grieve -nature</i><a id="FNanchor_160" href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">160</a>, to gratify this fantastic passion; and -give up the social pleasures, the true pleasures -of humanity, for the sordid satisfaction of -seeing ourselves possessed of an abundance, -which we never mean to enjoy: above all, -when we purchase wealth at the expence of -our innocence; when we prefer it to a good -name, and a clear conscience; when we suffer -it to interfere with our most important concerns, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">369</span> -those of piety and religion; and when, -for the sake of it, we are contented to forego -the noblest hopes, the support and glory of -our nature, the hopes of happiness in a future -state.</p> - -<p>When the false glitter of <i>silver</i> (<i>of which -the owner</i>, as Solomon says, <i>has</i>, and proposes -to himself, <i>no other good, but that of beholding -it with his eyes</i><a id="FNanchor_161" href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">161</a>) imposes upon us at this -rate, how should our reasonable nature find -any true or solid <i>satisfaction</i> in it!</p> - -<p>“But the mere act of acquiring and accumulating -wealth is, it will be said, the miser’s -pleasure, of which himself, and no other, is -the proper judge; and a certain confused notion -of the uses, to which it may serve, though he -never actually puts it to any, is enough to -justify his pursuit of it.”</p> - -<p>Be it so, then: But is there no better pleasure -for him to aim at, and which he loses by -following this; and although <i>a man’s ways</i>, -we are told, <i>be right in his own eyes</i><a id="FNanchor_162" href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">162</a>; yet, -is there no difference in them, and do not -some of them lead through much trouble to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">370</span> -disappointment and <i>death</i>? And is there not a -presumption, a certainty, that the way of the -<i>miser</i> is of this sort? when his very name may -admonish him of the light in which the common -sense of mankind regards his pursuit of -untasted opulence; and when he finds, by -experience, that his unnatural appetite for it -is always encreasing, be the plenty never so -great which is set before him. But,</p> - -<p>2. Wealth may be <small>MISAPPLIED</small>, as well as -over-rated, and generally is so, in the most -offensive manner, by those, who think there -are no pleasures, which it cannot command. -For, although the miser has the worse name -in the world, yet the spendthrift (since a certain -alliance, which has taken place between -luxury and avarice) possibly deserves our indignation -more.</p> - -<p>But ye shall judge for yourselves. Are not -riches, let me ask, sadly misapplied, when, -after having been pursued and seized upon, -with more than a miser’s fury, they are suddenly -let go again, on all the wings<a id="FNanchor_163" href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">163</a> of prodigality -and folly? which scatter their precious -load, not on modest merit, or virtuous industry, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">371</span> -or suffering innocence, but on the -flatterers of pride, the retainers of pomp, the -panders of pleasure; in a word, on those -miscreants, who imped these harpies, and -sent them forth, for the annoyance of mankind.</p> - -<p>And well are these spendthrifts repaid for -their good service. For this profusion brings -on more pains and penalties, than I am able -to express; disappointment, regret, disgust, -and infamy; and not uncommonly, in the -train of these, that tremendous spectre to a -voluptuous man, <i>Poverty</i>: or, if the source, -which feeds this whirlpool of riotous expence, -be yet unexhausted, and flow copiously, these -waters have that baleful quality, that they inflame, -instead of quenching, the drinker’s -thirst. All his natural appetites grow nice -and delicate; and ten thousand artificial ones -are created, and become more vexatious to -him, than any that are of nature’s growth. -The idolater of riches, the infatuated lover of -<i>silver</i>, now finds, that the power he serves, -the mistress he adores, yields him no other -fruit of all his assiduity, but self-abhorrence -and distraction; the loss of all virtuous feelings; -and numberless clamorous desires, which give -him no truce of their importunity, and are -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">372</span> -incapable, by any gratification, of being -quieted and assuaged.</p> - -<p>So true is the observation, that <i>he, who, -loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver</i>! -For, either the passion grows upon us, when -the object is not enjoyed; or, if it be, a new -force is given to it, and a legion of other -passions, as impatient and unmanageable as -the original one, start up out of the enjoyment -itself.</p> - -<p>I know the lovers of money are not easily -made sensible of this fatal alternative. They -think, that this, or that sum, will fill<a id="FNanchor_164" href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">164</a> all -their wishes, and make them as rich, and as -happy, as they desire to be. But they presently -feel their mistake; and yet rarely find -out, that the way to content lies through self-command, -and that to have enough of any -thing which this world affords, we must be -careful not to grasp at too much of it.</p> - -<p>On the entrance into life, higher and more -generous motives usually excite the better part -of mankind to labour in those professions, that -are accounted liberal. But, as they proceed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">373</span> -in their course, interest, which was always one -spur to their industry, infixes itself deeply -into their minds, and stimulates them more -sensibly than any other. It can scarce be -otherwise, considering the influence of example; -the experience they have, or think -they have, of the advantages, that attend encreasing -wealth; the fashion of the times, -which indulges, or, as we easily persuade ourselves, -requires refined, and therefore expensive, -pleasures; and, above all, the selfishness of -the human mind, which is, and, for wise -reasons, was intended to be a powerful spring -of action in us.</p> - -<p>Thus there are several adventitious, shall -we call them? or natural inclinations, which -prompt us to the pursuit of riches; and I would -not be so rigid, as to insist on the total suppression -of them.</p> - -<p>Let then the fortune, or the honour (for -both are included in the magical word <i>silver</i>) -which eminent worth may propose to itself, be -among the inducements which erect the hopes, -and quicken the application, of a virtuous man. -But let him know withal (and I am in no pain -for the effect, which this premature knowledge -may have upon him) that the application, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">374</span> -not the object, is that in which he will find -his account; just as the pursuit, and not the -game, is the true reward of the chace. He who -thinks otherwise, and reckons that affluence is -content, or grandeur, happiness, will have -leisure, if he attain to either, to rectify his -opinion, and to see that he had made a very -false estimate of human life.</p> - -<p>And, now, having thus far commented on -my text, I will take leave, for once, to step -beyond it, and shew you, in few words (for -many cannot be necessary on so plain a subject) -<i>where</i> and <i>how</i> satisfaction may be found.</p> - -<p>In the abundance of <i>silver</i>, it does not, and -cannot lie; nor yet in a cynical contempt of -it: but, in few and moderate desires; in a -correct taste of life, which consults nature -more than fancy in the choice of its pleasures; -in rejecting imaginary wants, and keeping a -strict hand on those that are real; in a sober -use of what we possess, and no further concern -about more than what may engage us, by -honest means, to acquire it; in considering -who, and what we are<a id="FNanchor_165" href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">165</a>; that we are creatures -of a day, to whom long desires and immeasurable -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">375</span> -projects are very ill suited; that we are -reasonable creatures, who should make a wide -difference between what seems to be, and -what is important; that we are accountable -creatures, and should be more concerned to -make a right use of what we possess, than to -enlarge our possessions; that, above all, we -are Christians, who are expected to sit loose to -a transitory world, to extend our hopes to another -life, and to qualify ourselves for it.</p> - -<p>In this way, and with these reflections, we -shall see things in a true light, and shall either -not desire abundant wealth, or shall understand -its true value. The strictest morality, -and even our divine religion, lays no obligation -upon us to profess poverty. We are even required -to be industrious in our several callings -and stations, and are, of course, allowed to -reap the fruits, whatever they be, of an honest -industry. Yet it deserves our consideration, -that wealth is always a snare, and therefore too -often a curse; that, if virtuously obtained, it -affords but a moderate satisfaction at best; and -that, if we <small>WILL</small> be rich, that is, resolve by -any means, and at all events, to be so, we -<i>pierce ourselves through with many sorrows</i><a id="FNanchor_166" href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">166</a>; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">376</span> -that it even requires more virtue to manage, -as we ought, a great estate, than to acquire it, -in the most reputable manner; that affluent, -and, still more, enormous wealth secularizes -the heart of a Christian too much, indisposes -him for the offices of piety, and too often -(though it may seem strange) for those of humanity; -that it inspires a sufficiency and self-dependance, -which was not designed for mortal -man; an impatience of complying with the -rules of reason, and the commands of religion; -a forgetfulness of our highest duties, or an -extreme reluctance to observe them.</p> - -<p>In a word, when we have computed all the -advantages, which a flowing prosperity brings -with it, it will be our wisdom to remember, -that its disadvantages are also great<a id="FNanchor_167" href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">167</a>; greater -than surely we are aware of, if it be true, as -our Lord himself assures us it is; <i>that a rich -man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of -Heaven</i><a id="FNanchor_168" href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">168</a>.</p> - -<p>Yet, <i>with God</i> (our gracious Master adds) -<i>all things are possible</i>. I return, therefore, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">377</span> -to the doctrine with which I set out, and conclude; -that riches are not evil in themselves; -that the moderate desire of them is not unlawful; -that a right use of them is even meritorious. -But then you will reflect on what -the nature of things, as well as the voice of -Solomon, loudly declares, that <i>he who loveth -silver, shall not be satisfied with silver</i>; that -the capacity of the human mind is not filled -with it; that, if we pursue it with ardour, and -make it the sole or the chief object of our pursuit, -it never did, and never can yield a true -and permanent satisfaction; that, if <i>riches -encrease</i>, it is our interest, as well as duty, <i>not -to set our hearts upon them</i><a id="FNanchor_169" href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">169</a>; and that, -finally, we are so to employ the riches, we any -of us have, with temperance and sobriety, -with mercy and charity, as to <i>make ourselves -friends of the mammon of unrighteousness</i> -(of the mammon, which usually deserves to be -so called) that, <i>when we fail</i> (when our lives -come, as they soon will do, to an end) <i>they -may receive us into everlasting habitations</i><a id="FNanchor_170" href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">170</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">378</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXVI">SERMON XXVI.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 21, 1773.</span></h2> - -<h3>1 <span class="smcap">Cor.</span> vi. 20.</h3> - -<p><i>Therefore glorify God in your body, and in -your spirit, which are God’s.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> words, as the expression shews, are -an inference from the preceding part of the -Apostle’s discourse. The occasion was this. -He had been reasoning, towards the close of -this chapter, against fornication, or the vice of -impurity; to which the Gentiles, in their unbelieving -state, had been notoriously addicted; -and for which the Corinthians (to whom he -writes) were, even among the Gentiles themselves, -branded to a proverb. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">379</span></p> - -<p>The topics, he chiefly insists upon, are -taken, not from nature, but the principles of -our holy religion, from the right and property, -which God hath in Christians. By virtue of -their profession, their bodies and souls are -appropriated to him. <span class="smcap">Therefore</span>, says he, -<i>glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, -which are God’s</i>.</p> - -<p>To apprehend all the force of this conclusion, -it will be proper to look back to the arguments -themselves; to consider distinctly the substance -of them, and the manner in which they are -conducted.</p> - -<p>This double attention will give us cause to -admire, not the logick only, but the address, -of the learned Apostle. I say, the <i>address</i>; -which the occasion required: for, notwithstanding -that no sin is more opposite to our -holy religion, and that therefore St. Paul, in -his epistles to the Gentile converts, gives it no -quarter, yet, as became the wisdom and sanctity -of his character, he forgets not of what, and -to whom, he writes.</p> - -<p>The vice itself is of no easy reprehension: -not, for want of arguments against it, which -are innumerable and irresistible; but from the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">380</span> -reverence which is due to one’s self and others. -An Apostle, especially, was to respect his own -dignity. He was, besides, neither to offend -the innocent, nor the guilty. Unhappily, these -last, who needed his plainest reproof, had more -than the delicacy of innocence about them, and -were, of all men, the readiest to take offence. -For so it is, the licentious of all times have -seared consciences, and tender apprehensions. -It alarms them to hear what they have no scruple -to commit.</p> - -<p>The persons addressed were, especially, to -be considered. These were Corinthians: that -is, a rich commercial people, voluptuous and -dissolute. They were, besides, wits and reasoners, -rhetoricians and philosophers: for under -these characters they are represented to us. -And all these characters required the Apostle’s -attention. As a people addicted to pleasure, -and supported in the habits of it by abounding -wealth, they were to be awakened out of their -lethargy, by an earnest and vehement expostulation: -as pretending to be expert in the arts -of reasoning, they were to be convinced by -strict argument: and, as men of quick rhetorical -fancies, a reasoner would find his account -in presenting his argument to them through -some apt and lively image. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">381</span></p> - -<p>Let us see, then, how the Apostle acquits -himself in these nice circumstances.</p> - -<p>After observing that the sin he had warned -the Corinthians to avoid, was <i>a sin against -their own body</i>; that is, was an abuse and defilement -of it, he proceeds, “<i>What! know ye -not that your body is the temple of the Holy -Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of -God? And ye are not your own; for ye -are bought with a price; therefore, glorify -God in your body, and in your spirit, which -are God’s.</i>”</p> - -<p>The address, we see, is poignant; the reasoning, -close; and the expression, oratorical. -The vehemence of his manner could not but -take their attention: his argumentation, as -being founded on Christian principles and ideas, -must be conclusive to the persons addressed; -and, as conveyed in remote and decent figures, -the delicacy of their imaginations is respected -by it.</p> - -<p>The whole deserves to be opened and explained -at large. Such an explanation, will -be the best discourse I can frame on this -subject. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">382</span></p> - -<p>I. First, then, the Apostle asks, <i>What! -know ye not that your body is the temple of -the Holy Ghost?</i>—This question refers to -that great Christian principle, that we live <i>in -the communion of the Holy Ghost</i><a id="FNanchor_171" href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">171</a>; not, in -the sense in which we <i>all live and move and -have our being in God</i>; but in a special and -more exalted sense; the Gospel teaching, that -<i>God hath given to us Christians the Holy -Spirit</i><a id="FNanchor_172" href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">172</a>, to be with us, and in us; to purify -and comfort us: that we are <i>baptized by this -spirit</i><a id="FNanchor_173" href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">173</a>, sanctified, <i>sealed by it to the day of -redemption</i><a id="FNanchor_174" href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">174</a>.</p> - -<p>Now this being the case, the <i>body</i> of a Christian, -which the Holy Ghost inhabits and sanctifies -by his presence, is no longer to be -considered as a worthless fabrick, to be put to -sordid uses, but as the receptacle of God’s spirit, -as the place of his residence; in a word, as -his <small>TEMPLE</small> and sanctuary.</p> - -<p>The figure, you see, presents an idea the -most august and venerable. It carried this impression -with it both to the Gentile and Jewish -Christians. It did so to the Gentiles, whose -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">383</span> -superstitious reverence for their idol-temples is -well known: and though many an abominable -rite was done in them, yet the nature of the -Deity, occupying this temple, which was the -Holy Ghost, put an infinite difference between -him and their impure deities, the impurest of -which had engrossed the Corinthian worship. -So that this contrast of the object could not -but raise their ideas, and impress the reverence, -which the Apostle would excite in them for -such a temple, with full effect on their minds<a id="FNanchor_175" href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">175</a>. -And then to Jews, the allusion must be singularly -striking: for their supreme pride and -boast was, the temple at Jerusalem, <i>the tabernacle -of the most high, dwelling between the -cherubims, and the place of the habitation of -God’s glory</i><a id="FNanchor_176" href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">176</a>.</p> - -<p>To both Jew and Gentile, the notion of a temple -implied these two things, 1. That the divinity -was in a more especial manner present in it: -and, 2. That it was a place peculiarly set apart -for his service. Whence the effect of this representation -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">384</span> -would be, That the body, having -the Holy Spirit lodged within it, was to be -kept pure and clean for this cælestial inhabitant: -and, as being dedicated to his own -use, it was not to be prophaned by any indecencies, -much less by a gross sin, which is, -emphatically, <i>a sin against the body</i>, and by -heathens themselves accounted a <i>pollution</i><a id="FNanchor_177" href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">177</a> -of it.</p> - -<p>Further; the Apostle does not leave the Corinthians -to collect all this from the image -presented to them, but asserts it expressly; -<i>What! know ye not, that your body is the -temple of the Holy Ghost</i>, <small>WHICH IS IN YOU</small>: -Implying, that what they would naturally -infer from their idea of a temple, was true, in -fact, <i>that the Holy Ghost was in them</i>; that -his actual occupancy and possession of their -bodies appropriated the use of them to himself, -and excluded all sordid practices in them, as -prophane and <small>SACRILEGIOUS</small>. Nay, he further -adds; <small>AND WHICH</small> [Holy Ghost] <small>YE HAVE OF -GOD</small>: ye have received this adorable spirit, -<i>which is in you</i>, from God himself; and so -are obliged to entertain this heavenly guest -with all sanctity and reverence; not only for -his own sake, and for the honour he does you -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">385</span> -in dwelling in you, but for his sake who sent -him, and from whose hands ye have received -him.</p> - -<p>This first argument, then, against the sin -of uncleanness, divested of its figure, stands -thus. In consequence of your Christian profession, -ye must acknowledge, that the Holy -Spirit is given to inform and consecrate your -mortal bodies; that he is actually <i>within</i> you; -and that he dwells and operates there, by -the gracious appointment and commission of -God. Ye are therefore to consider your body -as the place of his more especial habitation; -and as such, are bound to preserve it in such -purity, as the nature of so sacred a presence -demands.</p> - -<p>This is the clear, obvious, and conclusive -argument; liable to no objection, or even -cavil, from a professor of Christianity. The -figure of a temple is only employed to raise -our apprehensions, and to convey the conclusion -with more force and energy to our minds. -But now,</p> - -<p>II. The Apostle proceeds to another and -distinct consideration, and shews that the -Holy Ghost is not only the actual <i>occupier and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">386</span> -possessor</i> of the body of Christians, whom the -Almighty had, as it were, forced upon them, -and by his sovereign authority enjoined them -to receive, but that he was the true and rightful -<small>PROPRIETOR</small> of it. <span class="smcap">Ye are not your own</span>, -continues the Apostle; not merely, as “God -hath, by his spirit, taken possession of you, -and sealed you up, as his own proper -goods<a id="FNanchor_178" href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">178</a>;” but as he hath redeemed and purchased -you, as he hath done that, by which -the <i>property</i> ye might before seem to have in -your bodies, is actually made over and consigned -to him. <span class="smcap">For ye are bought with a -price.</span></p> - -<p>The expression is, again, figurative; and -refers to the notions and usages that obtained -among the heathens, the Greeks especially, in -regard to <i>personal slavery</i>. As passionate -admirers, as they were, of liberty, every government, -even the most republican, abounded -in slaves; every family had its share of them. -The purchase of them, as of brute beasts, was -a considerable part of their traffick. Men and -women were bought and sold publicly in their -markets: the wealth of states and of individuals, -in great measure, consisted in them. -Thus was human nature degraded by the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">387</span> -Heathen, and I wish it might be said, by -heathens only. But my present concern is -with them. It is too sad a truth that human -creatures sold themselves, or were sold by their -masters, to be employed in the basest services, -even those of luxury and of lust. This infamous -practice was common through all Greece, -but was more especially a chief branch of the -Corinthian commerce. Their city was the -head-quarters of prostitution, and the great -market for the supply of it.</p> - -<p>Now to this practice the Apostle alludes, -but in such a manner as implies the severest -reproof of it. His remonstrance is to this -effect. “Ye Corinthians, in your former -pagan state, made no scruple to consider -your slaves as your own absolute property. -Your pretence was, that <i>ye had bought them -with a price</i>; that is, with a piece of money, -which could be no equivalent for the natural -inestimable liberty and dignity of a fellow-creature; -yet ye claimed to yourselves their -entire, unreserved service; and often condemned -them to the vilest and most ignominious.</p> - -<p>“To turn now, says the Apostle, from -these horrors to a fairer scene; for I take advantage -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">388</span> -only of your ideas in this matter, to -lead you to just notions of your present -Christian condition. God, the sole rightful -proprietor of the persons of men, left you -in the state of nature, to the enjoyment of -your own liberty, with no other restraint -upon it than what was necessary to preserve -so great a blessing, the restraint of reason. -Now, indeed, but still for your own infinite -benefit, he claims a stricter property in you, -and demands your more peculiar service. -He first made you men, but now Christians. -Still he condescends to proceed with you in -your own way, and according to your own -ideas of right and justice. <i>He has bought -you with a price</i>: but, merciful heaven, -with <i>what</i> price? With that, which exceeds -all value and estimation, with the <small>BLOOD</small> of -his only begotten Son; the least drop of -which is of more virtue than all your hecatombs, -and more precious than the treasures -of the East. And for what was this price -paid? Not to enslave, much less to insult -and corrupt you (as ye wickedly served one -another), but to <i>redeem you into the glorious -liberty of the sons of God</i>: It was, -to restore you from death to life, from servitude -to freedom, from corruption to holiness, -<i>to make to himself a peculiar people</i>, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">389</span> -<i>zealous of good works</i>. Say, then, Is this -ransom an equivalent for the purchase of -you? And is the end for which ye are purchased, -such as ye dare complain of, or have -reason to refuse? Henceforth, then, <i>ye are -not your own</i>: the property of your souls -and bodies is freely, justly, equitably, with -immense benefit to yourselves, and unspeakable -mercy on the part of the purchaser, -transferred to God. Your whole and best -service is due to him, of strict right: what -he demands of you is to serve him in all -virtue and godliness of living, and particularly -to respect and reverence yourselves; in -a word, not to pollute yourselves with forbidden -lusts. In this way ye are required -to serve your new lord and master, who has -the goodness to regard such service, as an -honour and glory to himself. <i>Therefore</i>, -do your part inviolably and conscientiously, -<i>Glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, -which are God’s</i>.”</p> - -<p>This is the the Apostle’s idea, when drawn -out and explained at large. The reasoning is -decisive, as in the former case: and the expression -admirably adapted to the circumstances -of the persons addressed. In plain -words, the argument is this. God has provided, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">390</span> -by the sacrifice of the death of Christ, -for your redemption from all iniquity, both -the service, and the wages of it. By your -profession of Christianity, and free acceptance -of this inestimable benefit, freely offered to -you, ye are become in a more especial manner, -his servants: ye are bound, therefore, by every -motive of duty and self-interest to preserve -yourselves in all that purity of mind and body, -which his laws require of you; and for the -sake of which ye were taken into this nearer -relation to himself. The figure of being <i>bought -with a price</i>, was at once the most natural -cover of this reasoning, as addressed to the -Corinthian Christians; and the most poignant -reproof of their country’s inhuman practice of -trafficking in the bodies and souls of men.</p> - -<p>The force both of the <i>figure</i> and the <i>reasoning</i> -is apparently much weakened by this -minute comment upon the Apostle’s words, -which yet seemed necessary to make them understood.</p> - -<p>To draw to a point, then, the substance of -what has been said, and to conclude.</p> - -<p>The vice which the Apostle had been arguing -against, is condemned by natural reason. But -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">391</span> -Christians are bound by additional and peculiar -considerations to abstain from it. <span class="smcap">Ye</span>, -says the Apostle, <small>ARE THE TEMPLES OF THE -HOLY GHOST</small>. To defile yourselves with the -sins of uncleanness is, then, to desecrate -those bodies which the Holy Ghost sanctifies -by his presence. It is, in the emphatic language -of scripture, <i>to grieve the holy Spirit</i>, -and <i>to do despite to the spirit of grace</i>. It -is like, nay it is infinitely worse, than polluting -the sanctuary: an abomination, which nature -itself teaches all men to avoid and execrate. -It is, in the highest sense of the words, -<small>PROPHANENESS</small>, <small>IMPIETY</small>, <small>SACRILEGE</small>.</p> - -<p>Again; <small>YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE</small>: ye -are not your own, but God’s; having been -ransomed by him, your souls and bodies, when -both were lost, through the death of his Son: -a price, of so immense, so inestimable a value, -that worlds are not equal to it. To dispose of -yourselves, then, in a way which he forbids -and abhors: to corrupt by your impurities that -which belongs to God, which is his right and -property; to serve your lusts, when ye are -redeemed at such a price to serve God only, -through Jesus Christ; is an outrage which we -poorly express, when language affords no other -names for it, than those of <small>INGRATITUDE</small>, <small>INFIDELITY</small>, -<small>INJUSTICE</small>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">392</span></p> - -<p>Whatever excuses a poor heathen might -alledge to palliate this sin, we Christians have -none to offer. He, <i>who knew not God</i>, might -be led by his pride, by his passions, and even -by his religion, to conclude (as the idolatrous -Corinthians seem to have done) that <i>his own -body was for fornication</i>; or, at most, that -he was only accountable to <i>his own soul</i> (if his -philosophy would give him leave to think he -had one) for the misuse of it. But this language -is now out of date. The souls and -bodies of us Christians are not ours, but the -<i>Lord’s</i>: they are <i>occupied</i> by his spirit, and -<i>appropriated</i> to his service. The conclusion -follows, and cannot be inforced in stronger -terms than those of the text: <span class="smcap">therefore -glorify God in your body, and in your -spirit, which are God’s</span>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">393</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXVII">SERMON XXVII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MARCH 13, 1774.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Job</span> xxiii. 26.</h3> - -<p><i>Thou writest bitter things against me, and -makest me to possess the iniquities of my -youth.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is one of the complaints which Job -makes in his expostulations with the Almighty. -He thought it hard measure that he should -suffer, now in his riper years, for the iniquities -of his youth. He could charge himself with -no other; and therefore he hoped that these -had been forgotten.</p> - -<p>Job is all along represented as an eminently -virtuous person; so that the iniquities of his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">394</span> -youth might not have been numerous or -considerable: otherwise, he would not have -thought it strange, that he was <i>made to possess</i> -his sins, long after they had been committed. -Our experience is, in this respect, so constant -and uniform, that there is no room for surprize -or expostulation. All those who have passed -their youth in sin and folly, may with reason -express a very strong resentment against themselves; -but have no ground of complaint against -God, when they cry out, in the anguish of -their souls: <i>Thou writest bitter things against -me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of -my youth</i>.</p> - -<p>The words are peculiarly strong and energetic; -and may be considered distinctly from -the case of Job, as expressing this general proposition; -“That, in the order of things, an -ill-spent youth derives many lasting evils on -the subsequent periods of life.” An alarming -truth! which cannot be too much considered, -and should especially be set before the young -and unexperienced, in the strongest light.</p> - -<p>The sins of <i>youth</i>, as distinguished from -those of riper years, are chiefly such as are occasioned -by an immoderate, or an irregular -pursuit of pleasure; into which we are too easily -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">395</span> -carried in that careless part of life; and the ill -effects of which are rarely apprehended by us, -till they are severely felt.</p> - -<p>Now, it may be said of us, that we are made -to <small>POSSESS</small> these sins, “When <i>we continue -under the constant sense and unrepented guilt -of them</i>:” “When <i>we labour under tyrannous -habits, which they have produced</i>:” And, -“when <i>we groan under afflictions of various -kinds, which they have entailed upon us</i>.”</p> - -<p>In these three respects, I mean to shew how -<i>bitter those things are, which God writeth</i>, -that is, decreeth in his justice, <i>against the -iniquities of our youth</i>.</p> - -<p>I. The <i>first</i>, and bitterest effect of this indulgence -in vicious pleasure, is the guilt and -consequent remorse of conscience, we derive -from it.</p> - -<p>When the young mind has been tinctured -in any degree with the principles of modesty -and virtue, it is with reluctance and much apprehension, -that it first ventures on the transgression -of known duty. But the vivacity and -thoughtless gaiety of that early season, encouraged -by the hopes of new pleasure, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">396</span> -sollicited, as it commonly happens, by ill examples, -is at length tempted to make the fatal -experiment; by which guilt is contracted, and -the sting of guilt first known. The ingenuous -mind reflects with shame and compunction on -this miscarriage but the passion revives; the -temptation returns, and prevails a second time, -and a third; still with growing guilt, but unhappily -with something less horror; yet enough -to admonish the offender of his fault, and to -embitter his enjoyments.</p> - -<p>As no instant mischief, perhaps, is felt from -this indulgence, but the pain of remorse, he, -by degrees, imputes this effect to an over-timorous -apprehension, to his too delicate self-esteem, -or to the prejudice of education. He -next confirms himself in these sentiments, by -observing the practice of the world, by listening -to the libertine talk of his companions, and by -forming, perhaps, a sort of system to himself, -by which he pretends to vindicate his own conduct: -till, at length, his shame and his fears -subside; he grows intrepid in vice, and riots in -all the intemperance to which youth invites, -and high spirits transport him.</p> - -<p>In this delirious state he continues for some -time. But presently the scene changes. Although -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">397</span> -the habit continue, the enjoyment is -not the same: the keenness of appetite abates, -and the cares of life succeed to this run of -pleasure.</p> - -<p>But neither the cares nor the pleasures of life -can now keep him from reflexion. He cannot -help giving way, at times, to a serious turn of -thought; and some unwelcome event or other -will strike in to promote it. Either the loss -of a friend makes him grave; or a fit of illness -sinks his spirits; or it may be sufficient, -that the companions of his idle hours are withdrawn, -and that he is left to himself in longer -intervals than he would chuse, of solitude and -recollection.</p> - -<p>By some or other of these means <small>CONSCIENCE</small> -revives in him, and with a quick resentment -of the outrage she has suffered. Attempts -to suppress her indignant reproaches, -are no longer effectual: she <i>will</i> be heared; -and her voice carries terror and consternation -with it.</p> - -<p>“She upbraids him, first, with his loss of -virtue, and of that which died with it, her -own favour and approbation. She then sets -before him the indignity of having renounced -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">398</span> -all self-command, and of having served ingloriously -under every idle, every sordid appetite. -She next rises in her remonstrance; -represents to him the baseness of having attempted -unsuspecting innocence; the cruelty -of having alarmed, perhaps destroyed, the -honour of deserving families; the fraud, the -perfidy, the perjury, he has possibly committed -in carrying on his iniquitous purposes. -The mischiefs he has done to others are perhaps -not to be repaired; and his own personal -crimes remain to be accounted for; and, if at -all, can only be expiated by the bitterest repentance. -And what then, concludes this severe -monitor in the awful words of the Apostle, -<i>What fruit had ye then in those things whereof -ye are now ashamed? for the end of those -things is death</i><a id="FNanchor_179" href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">179</a>.”</p> - -<p>Suppose now this remonstrance to take effect, -and that the sinner is at length (for what I -have here represented in few words, takes much -time in doing; but suppose, I say, that the -sinner is at length) wrought upon by this remonstrance -to entertain some serious thoughts -of amendment, still the consciousness of his -ill desert will attend him through every stage -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">399</span> -of life, and corrupt the sincerity of all his enjoyments; -while he knows not what will be -the issue of his crimes, or whether, indeed, -he shall ever be able truly and effectually to -repent of them. For we cannot get quit of our -sins, the moment we resolve to do so: But, as -I proposed to shew,</p> - -<p>II. <i>In the second place</i>, we are still made -to possess the iniquities of our youth, <i>while we -labour under any remains of those tyrannous -habits, which they have produced in us</i>.</p> - -<p>There is scarce an object of greater compassion, -than the man who is duly sensible of his -past misconduct, earnestly repents of it, and -strives to reform it, but yet is continually -drawn back into his former miscarriages, by -the very habit of having so frequently fallen -into them. Such a man’s life is a perpetual -scene of contradiction; a discordant mixture -of good resolutions, and weak performances; -of virtuous purposes, and shameful relapses; -in a word, of sin and sorrow. And, were he -only to consult his present ease, an uninterrupted -course of vice might almost seem preferable -to this intermitting state of virtue. But -the misery of this condition comes from himself, -and must be endured, for the sake of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">400</span> -avoiding, if it may be, one that is much worse. -In the mean time, he feels most sensibly what -it is to <i>possess</i> the iniquities of his youth. -The temptation, perhaps, to persevere in -them, is not great; he condemns, and laments -his own weakness. Still the habit prevails, -and his repentance, though constantly renewed, -is unable to disengage him from the -power of it.</p> - -<p>Thus he struggles with himself, perhaps for -many years, perhaps for a great part of his life; -and in all that time is distracted by the very -inconsistency of his own conduct, and tortured -by the bitterest pains of compunction and self-abhorrence.</p> - -<p>But let it be supposed, that the grace of God -at length prevails over the tyranny of his inveterate -habits; that his repentance is efficacious, -and his virtue established. Yet the -memory of his former weakness fills him with -fears and apprehensions: he finds his mind -weakened, as well as polluted, by his past -sins; he has to strive against the returning -influence of them; and thus, when penitence -and tears have washed away his guilt, he still -thinks himself insecure, and trembles at the -possible danger of being involved again in it. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">401</span></p> - -<p>Add to all this, the compunction which such -a man feels, when he is obliged to discountenance -in others, perhaps, by his station, to -punish those crimes in which he had so long -and so freely indulged himself: and how uneasy -the very discharge of his duty is thus rendered -to him.</p> - -<p>To say all upon this head: his acquired -habits, if not corrected in due time, may push -him into crimes the most atrocious and -shocking; and, if subdued at length, will -agitate his mind with long dissatisfaction and -disquiet. Repentance, if it comes at all, will -come late; and will never reinstate him fully -in the serenity and composure of his lost innocence. -But,</p> - -<p>III. Lastly, when all this is done (and -more to do is not in our power) we may still -possess the iniquities of our youth, in another -sense, I mean, <i>when we groan under the temporal -afflictions of many kinds, which they -entail upon us</i>.</p> - -<p>So close do these sad <i>possessions</i> cleave to -us, and so difficult it is, contrary to what we -observe of all other possessions, to divest ourselves -of them! -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">402</span></p> - -<p>When <small>PLEASURE</small> first spreads its share for -the young voluptuary, how little did he suspect -the malignity of its nature; and that under -so enchanting an appearance, it was preparing -for him pains and diseases, declining health, -an early old-age, perhaps poverty, infamy, -and irreparable ruin? Yet some, or all of -these calamities may oppress him, when the -pleasure is renounced, and the sin forsaken.</p> - -<p>Youth and health are with difficulty made -to comprehend how frail a machine the human -body is, and how easily impaired by excesses. -But effects will follow their causes; and intemperate -pleasure is sure to be succeeded by -long pains, for which there is no prevention, -and for the most part, no remedy. Hence it -is that life is shortened; and, while it lasts, is -full of languor, disease, and suffering. If by -living <i>fast</i>, as men call it, they only abridged -the duration of their pleasures, their folly -might seem tolerable. But the case is much -worse: they treasure up to themselves actual -sufferings, from disorders which have no cure, -as well as no name. And not unfrequently it -happens, according to the strong expression in -the book of Job, that <i>a man’s bones are full of -the sin of his youth, till they lie down with -him in the grave</i><a id="FNanchor_180" href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">180</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">403</span></p> - -<p>Or, if health continue, his <i>fortune</i> suffers; -it being an observation as old as Solomon, and -confirmed by constant experience ever since, -that <i>he who loveth pleasure, shall not be rich</i><a id="FNanchor_181" href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">181</a>. -His paternal inheritance is perhaps wasted, or -much reduced. And his careless youth has -lost the opportunity of those improvements -which should enable him to repair it. Or, if -the abundant provision of wiser ancestors secure -him from this mischance; or, if he has -had the discretion to mix some industry and -œconomy with his vices, still his good name is -blasted, and so tender a plant as this is not -easily restored to health and vigour. For it is -a mistake to think that intemperance leaves no -lasting disgrace behind it. The contrary is -seen every day; and the crimes which we -commit in the mad pursuit of pleasure, bring -a dishonour with them, which no age can -wholly outlive, and no virtue can repair<a id="FNanchor_182" href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">182</a>. It -stuck close to Cæsar himself in his highest -fortune: All his laurels could neither hide his -<i>baldness</i> from the observation of men, nor the -infamy of that commerce by which it had been -occasioned<a id="FNanchor_183" href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">183</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">404</span></p> - -<p>All this, it may be thought, is very hard. -But such is the fact, and such the order of -God’s providence. We have not the making of -this system: it is made to our hands by him -who ordereth all things for the best, how -grievous soever his dispensations may sometimes -appear to us. Our duty, and our wisdom -is to reflect what that system is, and to -conform ourselves to it.</p> - -<p>If a young man, on his entrance into life, -could be made duly sensible of the dreadful -evils, which, in the very constitution of things, -flow from vice, there is scarcely any temptation -that could prevail over his virtue. But -his levity and inexperience expose him to -these evils: he thinks nothing of them till -they arrive, and then there is no escape from -them.</p> - -<p>To conclude: if any thing can rescue unwary -youth out of the hands of their own folly, -it must be such a train of reflection as the text -offers to us. Let it sink deep into their minds, -that there are indeed <i>bitter things</i> decreed -against the iniquities of that early age; that a -thousand temporal evils spring from that -source; that vicious habits are in themselves -vexatious and tormenting; and, that, uncorrected, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">405</span> -and unrepented of, they fill the mind -with inutterable remorse and horror.</p> - -<p>When the sins of youth are seen in this -light, it is not by giving them the soft name -of infirmities, or by cloathing them with ideas -of pleasure, that we shall be able to reconcile -the mind to them. Such thin disguises will -not conceal their true forms and natures from -us. We shall still take them for what indeed -they are, for sorcerers and assassins, the enchanters -of our reason and the murderers of -our peace.</p> - -<p>The sum of all is comprised in that memorable -advice of the Psalmist, so often quoted -in this place (and, for once, let it have its -effect upon us): <i>Keep innocency, and take -heed to the thing that is right, for that shall -bring a man peace at the last</i><a id="FNanchor_184" href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">184</a>.</p> - -<p>Or, if the scorner will not listen to this -advice, it only remains to leave him to his -own sad experience; but not till we have -made one charitable effort more to provoke -his attention by the caustic apostrophe of the -wise man: <i>Rejoice, O young man, in thy</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">406</span> -<i>youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the -days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of -thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: -but</i> <small>KNOW THOU</small>, <i>that, for all these things, -God will bring thee into judgement</i><a id="FNanchor_185" href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">185</a>. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">407</span></p> - -<h2 id="SERMON_XXVIII">SERMON XXVIII.<br /> - -<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 28, 1769.</span></h2> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> vii. 21, 22.</h3> - -<p><i>Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, -lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For -oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth, -that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed -others.</i></p> - -<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> royal author of this book has been -much and justly celebrated for his wise aphorisms -and precepts on the conduct of human -life. Among others of this sort, the text may -deserve to be had in reverence; which, though -simply and familiarly expressed, could only -be the reflexion of a man who had great -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">408</span> -experience of the world, and had studied with -care the secret workings of his own mind.</p> - -<p>The purpose of it is, to disgrace and discountenance -that <small>ANXIOUS CURIOSITY</small> (the result -of our vanity, and a misguided self-love) which -prompts us to inquire into the sentiments and -opinions of other persons concerning us, and -to give ourselves no rest till we understand -what, in their private and casual conversations, -they say of us.</p> - -<p>“This curious disposition, says the preacher, -is by all means to be repressed, as the indulgence -of it is both <small>FOOLISH</small> and <small>UNJUST</small>; -as it not only serves to embitter your own lives -by the unwelcome discoveries ye are most -likely to make; but at the same time to convict -your own consciences of much iniquity; since, -upon reflexion, ye will find that ye have, -yourselves, been guilty at some unguarded -hour or other, of the same malignity or flippancy -towards other men.”</p> - -<p>In these two considerations is comprised -whatever can be said to discredit this vice: the -<i>one</i>, you see, taken from the preacher’s knowledge -of human life; the <i>other</i>, from his intimate -acquaintance with the secret depravity -and corruption of the human heart. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">409</span></p> - -<p>Permit me, then, to enlarge on these two -topics; and, by that means, to open to you -more distinctly the <small>WISDOM</small>, and the <small>EQUITY</small> -of that conduct, which is here recommended -to us, of <i>not giving a sollicitous attention to -the frivolous and unweighed censures of other -men</i>.</p> - -<p>I. <i>Take no heed</i>, says the preacher, <i>to all -words that are spoken</i>, <small>LEST THOU HEAR THY -SERVANT CURSE THEE</small>. This is the <small>FIRST</small> reason -which he assigns for his advice.</p> - -<p>The force of it will be clearly apprehended, -if we reflect (as the observing author of the -text had certainly done) that nothing is more -flippant, nothing more unreasonably and unaccountably -petulant, than the tongue of man.</p> - -<p>It is so little under the controul, I do not -say of candour, or of good-nature, but of common -prudence, and of common justice, that -it moves, as it were, with the slightest breath -of rumour; nay, as if a tendency to speak ill -of others were instinctive to it, it waits many -times for no cause from without, but is prompted -as we may say, by its own restlessness and -volubility to attack the characters of those who -chance to be the subject of discourse. Without -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">410</span> -provocation, without malice, without so -much as intentional ill-will, it echoes the voice -of the present company; vibrates with the -prevailing tone of conversation; or takes occasion -from the slightest occurrence, from -some idle conceit that strikes the fancy, from -the impulse of a sudden and half-formed suggestion, -that stirs within us, to exercise its -activity in a careless censure of other men.</p> - -<p>Nay, what is more to be lamented, the -sagacious observer of mankind will find reason -to conclude, that no zeal for our interests, no -kindness for our persons, shall at all times restrain -this unruly member, the tongue, from -taking unwelcome freedoms with us. The -dearest friend we have, shall at some unlucky -moment be seduced by an affectation of wit, by -a start of humour, by a flow of spirits, by a -sudden surmise, or indisposition, by any thing, -in short, to let fall such things of us, as have -some degree of sharpness in them, and would -give us pain, if they were officiously reported -to us.</p> - -<p>This appears to have been the sentiment of -the wise preacher in the text. Avoid, says he, -this impertinent curiosity, <i>lest thou hear thy -servant curse thee</i>; lest the very persons that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">411</span> -live under thy roof and are most obliged to -thee, who are reasonably presumed to have the -warmest concern for thy honour and interest, -and on whose fidelity and gratitude the security -and comfort of thy whole life more immediately -depends, lest even these be found to make free -with thy character. For there is a time, when -even <i>these</i> may be carried to speak undutifully -and disrespectfully of thee.</p> - -<p>And would any man wish to make this discovery -of those, who are esteemed to be, and, -notwithstanding these occasional freedoms, -perhaps <i>are</i>, his true servants and affectionate -friends?</p> - -<p>For think not, when this unlucky discovery -is made, that the offended party will treat it -with neglect, or be in a condition to consider -it with those allowances, that, in reason and -equity, may be required of him. No such -thing: It will appear to him in the light of a -heinous and unpardonable indignity; it will -occasion warm resentments, and not only fill -his mind with present disquiet, but most probably -provoke him to severe expostulations; -the usual fruit of which is, to make a deliberate -and active enemy of him, who was, before, -only an incautious and indiscreet friend: at the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">412</span> -best, it will engender I know not what uneasy -jealousies and black suspicions; which will -mislead his judgment on many occasions; and -inspire an anxious distrust, not of the faulty -person himself only, but of others, who stand -in the same relation to him, and, perhaps, of all -mankind.</p> - -<p>These several ill effects may be supposed, as -I said, to flow from the discovery: and it will -be useful to set the malignity of <i>each</i> in its true -and proper light.</p> - -<p>1. <i>First</i>, then, consider that a likely, or rather -infallible effect of this discovery, is, <i>to -fire the mind with quick and passionate resentments</i>. -And what is it to be in this state, -but to lose the enjoyment of ourselves; to have -the relish of every thing, we possess, embittered -by pungent reflexions on the perfidy and baseness -of those, with whom we live, and of -whom it is our happiness to think well; to -have the repose of our lives disturbed by the -most painful of all sensations, that of supposed -injury from our very friends? And for what -is this wretchedness, this misery, encountered? -For the idleness of an unweighed discourse; -for something, which, if kept secret from us, -had been perfectly insignificant; for a discourtesy, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">413</span> -which meant nothing and tended to -nothing; for a word, which came from the -tongue, rather than the heart; or, if the heart -had any share in producing it, was recalled -perhaps, at least forgotten, in the moment it -was spoken. And can it be worth while to indulge -a curiosity which leads to such torment, -when the object of our inquiry is itself so frivolous, -as well as the concern we have in it?</p> - -<p>2. <i>Another</i> mischief attending the gratification -of this impertinent curiosity, is, That the -unwelcome discoveries we make, <i>naturally -lead to peevish complaints and severe expostulations</i>; -the effect of which is, not only -to continue and inflame the sense of the injury -already received, but to draw fresh and greater -indignities on ourselves, to push the offending -party on extremes, and compell him, almost, -whether he will or no, to open acts of hostility -against us. The former ill treatment -of us, whatever it might be, was perhaps -forgotten; at least it had hitherto gone no -further than words, and, while it was, or was -supposed to be, undiscovered, there was no -thought of repeating the provocation, and there -was time and opportunity left for repenting of -it, and for recovering a just sense of violated -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">414</span> -duty. But when the offence is understood to -be no longer a secret, the discovery provokes -fresh offences. Either pride puts the aggressor -on justifying what he has done; or the shame -of conviction, and the despair of pardon, turns -indifference into hate; ready to break out into -all sorts of ill offices, and the readier, because -the strong resentment of so slight a matter, -as a careless expression, is itself, in turn, accounted -an atrocious injury. And thus a small -discourtesy, which, if unnoticed, had presently -died away, shall grow and spread into a rooted -<i>ill-will</i>, productive of gross reciprocal hostilities, -and permanent as life itself.</p> - -<p>It is on this account that wise men have -always thought it better to connive at moderate -injuries, than, by an open resentment of -them, to provoke greater: and nothing is -mentioned so much to the honour of a noble -Roman<a id="FNanchor_186" href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">186</a>, as that, when he had the papers of -an enemy in his hands (which would certainly -have discovered the disaffection of many persons -towards the republic and himself) he destroyed -them all, and prudently, as well as generously, -resolved to know nothing of what they contained. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">415</span> -And this conduct, which was thought -so becoming a great man in public life, is unquestionably -(on the same principle of prudence -and magnanimity, to say nothing of higher -motives) the duty and concern of every private -man.</p> - -<p>3. But, <i>lastly</i>, supposing the resentment -conceived on the discovery of an ungrateful -secret, should not break out into overt acts of -hatred and revenge, still the matter would not -be much mended. For, <i>it would surely breed -a thousand uneasy suspicions</i>, which would -prey on the hurt mind; and do irreparable -injury to the moral character, as well as embitter -the whole life of him who was unhappily -conscious to them.</p> - -<p>The experience of such neglect or infidelity -in those whom we had hitherto loved and -trusted, and from whom we had expected a -suitable return of trust and love, would infallibly -sour the temper, and create a constant apprehension -of future unkindness. It would efface -the native candour of the mind, and bring a -cloud of jealousy over it; which would darken -our views of human life. It would make us -cold, and gloomy, and reserved; indifferent -to those who deserved best of us, and unapt -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">416</span> -for the offices of society and friendship. The -more we suppressed these sentiments, the more -would they fester and rankle within us; till -the mind became all over tenderness and sensibility, -and felt equal pain from its own groundless -surmises, as from real substantial injuries. -In a word, we should have no relish of conversation, -no sincere enjoyment of any thing, -we should only be miserable <i>in</i>, and <i>from</i> -ourselves.</p> - -<p>And is this a condition to be officiously -courted, and sought after? Or rather, could -we suffer more from the malice of our bitterest -enemy, than we are ready to do from our own -anxious curiosity to pry into the infirmities of -our friends?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Hitherto</span> I have insisted on the danger of -<i>giving heed to all words that are spoken</i>, <small>LEST -THOU HEAR THY SERVANT CURSE THEE</small>; in other -words, on the <small>FOLLY</small> of taking pains to make -a discovery, which may prove unwelcome in -itself, and dreadful in the consequent evils it -may derive upon us.</p> - -<p>II. It now remains that I say one word on -the <small>INJUSTICE</small>, and want of equity, which appears -in this practice. <span class="smcap">For oftentimes also</span> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_417">417</span> -<span class="smcap">thine own heart knoweth, that thou thyself, -likewise, hast cursed others.</span></p> - -<p>And as in the former case the preacher drew -his remonstrance from his knowledge of the -world; so in this, he reasons from his intimate -knowledge of the human heart.</p> - -<p>Let the friendliest, the best man living, -explore his own conscience, and then let him -tell us, or rather let him tell himself, if he -can, that he has never offended in the instance -here given. I suppose, on a strict -inquiry, he will certainly call to mind some -peevish sentiment, some negligent censure, -some sharp reflection, which, at times, hath -escaped him, even in regard to his <i>second -self</i>, a bosom friend. Either he took something -wrong, and some suspicious circumstance -misled him; or, he was out of health -and spirits; or, he was ruffled by some ungrateful -accident; or, he had forgotten himself -in an hour of levity; or a splenetic -moment had surprised him. Some or other -of these causes, he will find, had betrayed -him into a sudden warmth and asperity of -expression, which he is now ashamed and -sorry for, and hath long since retracted and -condemned. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_418">418</span></p> - -<p><i>Still further</i>, at the very time when this -infirmity overtook him, he had no purposed -unfriendliness, no resolved disaffection towards -the person he allowed himself to be thus free -with. His tongue indeed had offended, but -his heart had scarce consented to the offence. -The next day, the next hour, perhaps, he -would gladly have done all service, possibly he -would not have declined to hazard his life, for -this abused friend.</p> - -<p>I appeal, as the wise author of the text -does, to yourselves, to the inmost recollection -of your own thoughts, if ye do not know -and feel that this which I have described hath -sometimes been your own case. And what -then is the inference from this self-conviction? -Certainly, that ye ought in common justice, -to restrain your inclination of prying into the -unguarded moments of other men. If your -best friends have not escaped your flippancy, -where is the equity of demanding more reserve -and caution towards yourself from them? -Without doubt the proper rule is to suppose, -and to forgive, these mutual indiscretions, -which we are all ready to commit towards -each other. We should lay no stress on these -casual discourtesies; we should not desire to -be made acquainted with them; we should -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_419">419</span> -dismiss them, if some officious whisperer -bring the information to us, with indifference -and neglect. To do otherwise is not only to -vex and disquiet ourselves for trifles: It is to be -unfair, uncandid, and <i>unjust</i>, in our dealings -with others; it is to convict ourselves of partiality -and hypocrisy, <i>For thine own heart -knoweth, that thou thyself likewise hast done -the same thing</i>.</p> - -<p>Ye have now, then, before you the substance -of those considerations which the text -offers, for the prevention of that idle and -hurtful curiosity of looking into the secret dispositions -and discourses of other men. Ye -see how foolish, how dangerous, how iniquitous -it is, <i>to give heed to all words that are -spoken</i>.</p> - -<p>It becomes a man indeed to lay a severe -check and restraint on his own tongue. Far -better would it be, if all men did so. But -they who know themselves and others, will -not much expect this degree of self-government, -will not, if they be wise, be much scandalized -at the want of it; since they know the observance -of it is so difficult and sublime a virtue; -since they know that nothing less than extraordinary -wisdom can, at all times, prevent the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_420">420</span> -tongue of man from running into excesses; -since they are even told by an Apostle, <i>That -if any man offend not in word, the same is a -perfect man</i><a id="FNanchor_187" href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">187</a>.</p> - -<p>Let us then allow for what we cannot well -help. And let this consideration come in aid -of the others, employed in the text, to expell -an inveterate folly, which prompts us to lay -more stress upon words, than such frivolous -and fugitive things deserve. Let us regard -them, for the most part, but as the shaking of -a leaf, or the murmur of the idle air: they -rarely merit our notice, and attention, more: -or, when they do, we should find it better to -indulge our <i>charity</i>, than our curiosity; I mean, -to <i>believe well of others</i>, as long as we can, -rather than be at the pains of an anxious inquiry -for a pretence to <i>think ill</i> of them.</p> - -<h3>THE END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME.</h3> - -<p class="copy"><span class="smcap">Nichols</span> and <span class="smcap">Son</span>, Printers,<br /> -Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.</p> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<h2 id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES:</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">1</a> - διὰ τοῦτο—referring to the good effect of this way of -teaching on the disciples, whom it had enabled, as they -confessed, to <i>understand</i> the things, which Jesus had -taught them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">2</a> - Tit. ii. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">3</a> - Rom. xv. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">4</a> - They did this with design, and on principle; as appears -from St. Austin’s discourse <i>de Doctrinâ Christianâ</i>, -in which he instructs the Christian preacher to employ, on -some occasions, inelegant and even barbarous terms and -expressions, the better to suit himself to the apprehensions -of his less informed hearers—<i>non curante illo, qui -docet, quantâ eloquentiâ doceat, sed quantâ evidentiâ. Cujus -evidentiæ diligens appetitus aliquando negligit verba cultiora, -nec curat quid benè sonet, sed quid benè indicet atque -intimet quod ostendere intendit</i>—and what follows. L. iv. -p. 74. Ed. Erasm. t. iii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">5</a> - 1 Cor. ii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">6</a> - Archbishop Tillotson.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">7</a> - Heb. iii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">8</a> - 2 Cor. iv. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">9</a> - Matt. xi. 15.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">10</a> - 1 Pet. iii. 3.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">11</a> - 1 Pet iii. 15.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">12</a> - <span class="smcap">Alphonsus the Wise</span>—I go on the common supposition, -that this Prince intended a reflexion on the -<i>system of nature</i> itself; but, perhaps, his purpose was no -more than, in a strong way of expression, (though it must -be owned, no very decent one) to reprobate the <i>hypothesis</i> -[the <i>Ptolemaic</i>], which set that system in so bad a light.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">13</a> - —μεταξὺ ἀλλήλων τῶν λογισμῶν κατηγορούντων ἢ καὶ ἀπολογουμένων. -See the Paraphrase and Comment on this text -by Mr. Taylor of Norwich, to whom I acknowledge myself -indebted for the idea which governs the general method -of this discourse.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">14</a> - <i>Nat. Deor.</i> l. ii. c. 66.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">15</a> - Sallust.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">16</a> - Plato’s <i>Republic</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">17</a> - Xenophon’s <i>Inst. of Cyrus</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">18</a> - Rom. ch. i. ver. 28-32.—ποιεῖν τὰ μὴ καθήκοντα—συνευδοκοῦσι -τοῖς πράσσουσιν.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">19</a> - Cicero, passim.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">20</a> - Felix, Acts xxiv. 25.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">21</a> - Ch. ii. 26.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">22</a> - Ch. iii. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">23</a> - Chap. iii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">24</a> - Rom. vi. 23.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">25</a> - 2 Cor. v. 15.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">26</a> - 2 Cor. v. 19.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">27</a> - 1 John ii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">28</a> - Rom. iii. 24.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">29</a> - 1 Tim. iv. 10.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">30</a> - Rom. i. 9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">31</a> - Rom. xv. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">32</a> - Col. ii. 10.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">33</a> - Ephes. iii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">34</a> - John xii. 48.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">35</a> - Luke xix. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">36</a> - 2 Peter ii. 21.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">37</a> - St. John, xiii. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">38</a> - Ch. xiv. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">39</a> - St. John, xiv. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">40</a> - Ch. xiv. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">41</a> - Ch. xiv. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">42</a> - 1 Cor. ii. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">43</a> - Matt. xxi. 27.—xxii. 46.—xxvii. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">44</a> - Matt. xii. 38.—xvi. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">45</a> - Mark iv. 34.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">46</a> - Mark iv. 34.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">47</a> - Mark iv. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">48</a> - Matt. xiii. 58. Mark ix. 23.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">49</a> - Matt. vii. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">50</a> - Mark iv. 25.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">51</a> - John xx. 29.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">52</a> - Isaiah lv. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">53</a> - Wisdom, ix. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">54</a> - 1 Cor. ii. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">55</a> - Rom. xiii. 3.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">56</a> - Φῶς ἀπρόσιτον. 1 Tim. vi. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">57</a> - John xiv. 22.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">58</a> - Τὴν λογικὴν λατρείαν. Rom. xii. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">59</a> - The dispute about <i>Easter</i>, in the second century.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">60</a> - The dispute about <i>Images</i>, in the eighth century.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">61</a> - Matt. xi. 29.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">62</a> - Matt. x. 34.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">63</a> - Job xxxii. 21.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">64</a> - Plutarch, or whoever was the author of a fragment, -printed among his moral discourses, and entitled, πότερον -τὰ τῆς ψυχῆς ἢ τὰ τοῦ σώματος πάθη χείρονα. Par. Ed. vol. ii. -p. 500.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">65</a> - Called <i>Æones</i>. See Grotius in loc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">66</a> - Ἀπεράντοις.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">67</a> - Dat nobis et Paulus brevem γενεαλογίαν, sed perutilem. -<span class="smcap">Grotius.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">68</a> - Rom. xii. 15.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">69</a> - Rom. i. 32.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">70</a> - 1 Peter iii. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">71</a> - <i>Les petites morales</i>; as the French moralists call them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">72</a> - Φιλανθρωπία.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">73</a> - Φιλαδελφία.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">74</a> - Τῆ φιλ. εἰς αλλ. ΦΙΛΟΣΤΟΡΓΟΙ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">75</a> - <i>The integrity of the upright shall guide them.</i> Prov. xi. 3.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">76</a> - Δείπνου γενομένου—</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">77</a> - See more on this subject in the <span class="smcap">Discourse</span> <i>on Christ’s -driving the merchants out of the temple</i>, at the end of the -next volume.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">78</a> - Ver. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">79</a> - If it be asked, why their <i>feet</i>? the answer is, that it -was customary in the east for one to wash the feet of -another. And this practice gave an easy introduction to -the present enigmatical washing; which was equally expressive -of the information designed, when performed on -this part of the body, as on any other.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">80</a> - Grotius saw the necessity of looking beyond the literal -meaning of those words—<i>If I wash thee not</i>. “Mos -Christi, says he, est a rebus, quæ adspiciuntur, ad sensum -sublimiorem ascendere.” His comment then follows. -“<i>Nisi te lavero</i>, id est, nisi <i>et sermone et spiritu eluero</i> -quod in te restat minus puri,” &c. Considering how near -Jesus was to his crucifixion, when he said this, one a little -wonders how the great commentator, when he was to -assign the mystical sense of these words, should overlook -that which lay before him. Surely his gloss should have -been, <i>Nisi sanguine meo te eluero</i>, &c.—Let me just add, -that the force of these words, as addressed to Peter, will -be perfectly understood, if we reflect that he, who said -to Jesus—<i>Thou shalt never wash my feet</i>—said on a former -occasion to him, when he spoke, without a figure, of -his <i>death</i> (though not, then, under the idea of a propitiatory -sacrifice, or ablution)—<i>Be it far from thee, Lord; -this shall not be unto thee</i>. Matt. xvi. 22. So little did -Peter see the necessity of being <i>washed</i> by the blood of -Christ! And so important was the information now given -him in this <i>mystical</i> washing—<i>If I wash thee not, thou -hast no part with me</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">81</a> - A remarkable instance will be given, in the Discourse -referred to above, at the close of the next volume.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">82</a> - Mark iv. 33. John xvi. 12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label">83</a> - John xiv. 26.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">84</a> - 1 John i. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">85</a> - Rev. i. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">86</a> - Eph. i. 7. Coloss. i. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">87</a> - 1 Cor. v. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">88</a> - 1 Pet. i. 12. 1 Cor. vi. 11. and elsewhere, <i>passim</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">89</a> - Rom. iii. 25.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="label">90</a> - Luke xii. 46.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="label">91</a> - Rev. vii. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="label">92</a> - 1 John. vi. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="label">93</a> - Matt. xviii. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="label">94</a> - Matt. vi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="label">95</a> - Ver. 12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="label">96</a> - Phil. iv. 18.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="label">97</a> - See Whitby in loc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="label">98</a> - See passages cited by Dr. Hammond.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="label">99</a> - 1 Cor. iii. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="label">100</a> - 1 Pet. i. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="label">101</a> - 1 Pet. iv. 12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="label">102</a> - Eccles. ii. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="label">103</a> - Heb. xii. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="label">104</a> - Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="label">105</a> - The difficulty in the two concluding verses of this chapter, -arises from a <i>vivacity of imagination in the pursuit and -application of metaphors</i>; a faculty, in which the Orientals -excelled, and delighted. They pass suddenly from one idea -to another, nearly, and sometimes, remotely, allied to it. -They relinquish the primary sense, for another suggested -by it; and without giving any notice, as we should do, -of their intention. These numerous <i>reflected lights</i>, as we -may call them, eagerly catched at by the mind in its train -of thinking, perplex the attention of a modern reader, -and must be carefully separated by him, if he would see -the whole scope and purpose of many passages in the sacred -writings.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="label">106</a> - 1 Cor. iv. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="label">107</a> - 1 Cor. xiii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="label">108</a> - As in the case of the <i>real presence</i> in the sacrament of -the altar.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="label">109</a> - As in the case of <i>good works</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="label">110</a> - An ingenious writer, who appears not to have been -hackneyed in the ways of controversy, and is, therefore, -the more likely to see the truth, in any plain question of -religion, as well as to declare it, expresses himself, fully, -to the same effect—“It is very weakly urged, that religion -should keep pace with science in improvement; and that -a subscription to articles must always impede its progress: -for nothing can be more absurd than the idea of a progressive -religion; which, being founded upon the declared, -not the imagined, will of God, must, if it attempt -to proceed, relinquish that Revelation which is its basis, -and so cease to be a religion founded upon God’s word. -God has revealed himself; and all that he has spoken, and -consequently all that is demanded of us to accede to, is -declared in one book, from which nothing is to be retrenched, -and to which nothing can be added. All that it -contains, was as perspicuous to those who first perused it, -after the rejection of the papal yoke, as it can be to us -<small>NOW</small>, or as it can be to our posterity in the <small>FIFTIETH GENERATION</small>.” -See <i>A Scriptural Confutation of Mr. Lindsey’s -Apology</i>. Lond. 1774. p. 220.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="label">111</a> - Rom. xi. 33.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="label">112</a> - Rom. x. 17.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="label">113</a> - 1 Cor. ix. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_114" href="#FNanchor_114" class="label">114</a> - Heb. iv. 12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_115" href="#FNanchor_115" class="label">115</a> - 1 Cor. xii. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_116" href="#FNanchor_116" class="label">116</a> -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">——potus ut ille<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri.<br /></span> -<span class="author">Hor. 2. Sat. iii. 254.<br /></span> -</div></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_117" href="#FNanchor_117" class="label">117</a> - John xii. 48.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_118" href="#FNanchor_118" class="label">118</a> - 2 Cor. iv. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_119" href="#FNanchor_119" class="label">119</a> - Matth. x. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_120" href="#FNanchor_120" class="label">120</a> - Cic. Off. L. i. c. 31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_121" href="#FNanchor_121" class="label">121</a> - See the Story of Musonius Rufus in Tacitus, Hist. -L. iii. c. 81.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_122" href="#FNanchor_122" class="label">122</a> - Cic. de Or. L. ii. c. 18.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_123" href="#FNanchor_123" class="label">123</a> - Bene præcipiunt, qui vetant quidquam agere, quod -dubites, æquum sit an iniquum: æquitas enim lucet ipsa -per se; dubitatio cogitationem significat injuriæ. - -<span class="author">Cic. de Off. L. I. ix.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_124" href="#FNanchor_124" class="label">124</a> - Matth. v. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_125" href="#FNanchor_125" class="label">125</a> - To the same purpose, Seneca, of the old heathen -philosophers: “Antiqua sapientia,” says he, “nihil aliud, -quàm <small>FACIENDA</small> et <small>VITANDA</small>, præcepit: et tunc longè -meliores erant viri: postquam docti prodierunt, boni desunt. -Simplex enim illa et aperta virtus in obscuram et -solertem scientiam versa est, docemurque disputare, non -vivere.” Senec. Ep. xcv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_126" href="#FNanchor_126" class="label">126</a> - Corrumpere et corrumpi, <i>sæculum</i> vocatur. Tacitus.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_127" href="#FNanchor_127" class="label">127</a> - Frequens imitatio transit in mores. Quinctil. L. -I. c. XI.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_128" href="#FNanchor_128" class="label">128</a> - <i>Vitam impendere vero.</i> His motto.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_129" href="#FNanchor_129" class="label">129</a> - Mes ennemies auront beau faire avec leurs injures; ils -ne m’ôteront point l’honneur d’être un homme véridique -en touts chose, <i>d’être le seul auteur de mon siecle, & de -beaucoup d’autres, qui ait écrit de bonne foi</i>. - -<span class="author"> -Rousseau, Lettre à M. de Beaumont.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_130" href="#FNanchor_130" class="label">130</a> - “Une preuve de sa bonne foi, c’est qu’il [M. Newton] -a commenté l’Apocalypse. Il y trouve clairement que le -Pape est l’Antichrist, et il explique d’ailleurs ce livre -comme tous ceux qui s’en sont mêlés. Apparemment -qu’il a voulu par ce commentaire <small>CONSOLER LA RACE -HUMAINE</small> de la supériorité qu’il avoit sur elle.” Œuvres -de Voltaire, T. v. c. 29. 1757.</p> - -<p>“If he [K. James I.] has composed a commentary on the -Revelations, and proved the Pope to be Antichrist; may -not a similar reproach be extended to the famous Napier; -and even to <span class="smcap">Newton</span>, at a time when learning -was much more advanced than during the reign of -James? From the grossness of its superstitions, we -may infer the ignorance of an age; but never should -pronounce concerning the <small>FOLLY OF AN INDIVIDUAL</small>, -from his admitting popular errors, consecrated with the -appearance of religion.” Hume’s Hist. of Great Britain, -Vol. VI. p. 136. Lond. 1763. 8vo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_131" href="#FNanchor_131" class="label">131</a> -Nil actum credens, dum quid superesset agendum. - -<span class="author">Lucan.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_132" href="#FNanchor_132" class="label">132</a> - <span class="smcap">Hippias, the Elean.</span> Cic. de Oratore, c. 32.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_133" href="#FNanchor_133" class="label">133</a> - <span class="smcap">Socrates.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_134" href="#FNanchor_134" class="label">134</a> - 2 Cor. xii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_135" href="#FNanchor_135" class="label">135</a> - 1 Cor. xiii. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_136" href="#FNanchor_136" class="label">136</a> - Philip. iii. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_137" href="#FNanchor_137" class="label">137</a> - Matt. v. 17.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_138" href="#FNanchor_138" class="label">138</a> - <span class="smcap">Bayle</span>, Comm. Phil. Part II. Ch. IV. <span class="smcap">Locke</span> on -Toleration, Letter I. <span class="smcap">Warburton</span>, D. L. B. v. S. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_139" href="#FNanchor_139" class="label">139</a> - 1 Tim. i. 15.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_140" href="#FNanchor_140" class="label">140</a> - 1 Cor. xv. 9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_141" href="#FNanchor_141" class="label">141</a> - De se tromper en croyant vraie la religion Chrétienne, -il n’y a pas grand’ chose à perdre: mais quel malheur de se -tromper en la croyant fausse! M. Pascal, p. 225.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_142" href="#FNanchor_142" class="label">142</a> - Plutarch. <span class="smcap">Brutus.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_143" href="#FNanchor_143" class="label">143</a> - Of opening private letters, and employing spies of -state. <span class="smcap">Clarendon.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_144" href="#FNanchor_144" class="label">144</a> - John x. 32.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_145" href="#FNanchor_145" class="label">145</a> - “Illa in illo homine mirabilia fuerunt, comprehendere -multos amicitiâ, tueri obsequio, cum omnibus communicare -quod habebat, servire temporibus suorum -omnium, pecuniâ, gratiâ, labore corporis, scelere etiam, -si opus esset, et audaciâ: versare suam naturam, et -regere ad tempus, atque huc et illuc torquere et flectere; -cum tristibus severè, cum remissis jucunde; cum senibus -graviter, cum juventute comiter; cum facinorosis -audacter, cum libidinosis luxuriosè vivero. Hâc ille -tam variâ multiplicique naturâ, &c.” <i>Cicero pro M. -Cælio</i>, c. iii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_146" href="#FNanchor_146" class="label">146</a> - Juventus pleraque, sed maximè <i>nobilium</i>, Catilinæ -incœptis favebat. <i>Sallust.</i> c. 17. And again: omnino -<i>cuncta plebes</i>, Catilinæ incœpta probabat. c. 37.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_147" href="#FNanchor_147" class="label">147</a> - 1 John iii. 21.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_148" href="#FNanchor_148" class="label">148</a> - St. Ambrose. Apud Whitby.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_149" href="#FNanchor_149" class="label">149</a> - John xviii. 31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_150" href="#FNanchor_150" class="label">150</a> - Rom. iii. 4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_151" href="#FNanchor_151" class="label">151</a> - The words ταπεινὸς, and <i>humilis</i>, are observed to be -generally, if not always, used in a bad sense by the Greek -and Latin writers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_152" href="#FNanchor_152" class="label">152</a> - Philipp. ii. 5. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_153" href="#FNanchor_153" class="label">153</a> - Matthew xvi. 24.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_154" href="#FNanchor_154" class="label">154</a> - Matth. xxiii. 33.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_155" href="#FNanchor_155" class="label">155</a> - Mark x. 21.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_156" href="#FNanchor_156" class="label">156</a> - For it is with propositions, as with <i>characters</i>, in relation -to which the language of the true moralist is: -“Explica, atque excute intelligentiam tuam, ut videas quæ -sit in eâ species, forma, et notio viri boni.” - -<span class="author"> -Cic. de Off. l. III. c. 20.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_157" href="#FNanchor_157" class="label">157</a> - Prov. ii. 4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_158" href="#FNanchor_158" class="label">158</a> - 1 Tim. v. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_159" href="#FNanchor_159" class="label">159</a> - Prov. ix. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_160" href="#FNanchor_160" class="label">160</a> - Queis humana sibi doleat natura negatis. - -<span class="author">Hor. I. S. i. 75.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_161" href="#FNanchor_161" class="label">161</a> - Eccles. v. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_162" href="#FNanchor_162" class="label">162</a> - Prov. xvi. 25.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_163" href="#FNanchor_163" class="label">163</a> - Prov. xxiii. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_164" href="#FNanchor_164" class="label">164</a> - Si hoc est <i>explere</i>, quod statim profundas. - -<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Cic.</span> Phil. ii. 8.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_165" href="#FNanchor_165" class="label">165</a> - Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur. <span class="smcap">Persius.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_166" href="#FNanchor_166" class="label">166</a> - 1 Tim. vi. 9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_167" href="#FNanchor_167" class="label">167</a> - -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ardua res hæc est, opibus non tradere mores,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Et cùm tot Crœsos viceris, esse Numam.<br /></span> -<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Martial, xi.</span> vi.<br /></span> -</div></div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_168" href="#FNanchor_168" class="label">168</a> - Matth. xix. 23.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_169" href="#FNanchor_169" class="label">169</a> - Ps. lxii. 10.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_170" href="#FNanchor_170" class="label">170</a> - Luke xvi. 9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_171" href="#FNanchor_171" class="label">171</a> - 2 Cor. xiii. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_172" href="#FNanchor_172" class="label">172</a> - 1 Thess. iv. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_173" href="#FNanchor_173" class="label">173</a> - Acts xi. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_174" href="#FNanchor_174" class="label">174</a> - Eph. i. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_175" href="#FNanchor_175" class="label">175</a> - It was the easier to do this, as the Heathens had their -Minerva and Diana, as well as grosser deities; and their -vestal virgins too; though, I doubt, in less numbers than -the shameless votaries of the Corinthian Venus. - -<span class="author"> -See <span class="smcap">Strabo</span>, L. viii. p. 378. Par. 1620.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_176" href="#FNanchor_176" class="label">176</a> - Ps. xlvi. 4.—lxxx. 1.—xxvi. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_177" href="#FNanchor_177" class="label">177</a> - Nullis <small>POLLUITUR</small> casta domus stupris. <span class="smcap">Hor.</span></p> - -<p>Cum castum amisit <small>POLLUTO CORPORE</small> florem. <span class="smcap">Catul.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_178" href="#FNanchor_178" class="label">178</a> - Dr. Whitby on the place.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_179" href="#FNanchor_179" class="label">179</a> - Rom. vi. 21.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_180" href="#FNanchor_180" class="label">180</a> - Job xx. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_181" href="#FNanchor_181" class="label">181</a> - Prov. xxi. 17.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_182" href="#FNanchor_182" class="label">182</a> - The poet says well of such <i>stains</i>, as these; -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Impressæ resident nec eluentur.</i><br /></span> -<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Catull.</span><br /></span> -</div></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_183" href="#FNanchor_183" class="label">183</a> - <span class="smcap">Suet.</span> J. Cæsar, c. 45.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_184" href="#FNanchor_184" class="label">184</a> - Ps. xxxvii. 38.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_185" href="#FNanchor_185" class="label">185</a> - Eccles. c. xi. 9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_186" href="#FNanchor_186" class="label">186</a> - Pompey, who burnt the papers of Sertorius.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_187" href="#FNanchor_187" class="label">187</a> - James iii. 2.</p></div> - -</div> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<h3>Transcriber’s Note:</h3> - -<p>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.</p> - -<p>Greek words beginning with ϖ have had the character replaced with π.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 -(of 8), by Richard Hurd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF RICHARD HURD, VOL 6 *** - -***** This file should be named 54541-h.htm or 54541-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/4/54541/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Bryan Ness, wayne Hammond and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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