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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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