^*i 
 
 ,>^S^> « 
 
 -i^l^^'^ 
 
 i 
 
 3^>"^^ 
 
 
 
 
 -3 
 
 ^^'^^^ 
 
 
 k? ^ 
 
 r^^^ 
 
 
 jilM ■Ml 1 
 
 ■T 
 
 » ■ >> > 
 
 3 
 
 12 
 
 
 jm "Li>Sj 
 
 ^K 
 
 ^ 
 
 ►.>3>^ > .>^ 
 
 R.. 
 
 B '^?r^fe%^: 
 
 • -SSSi 0^ 
 
 5^ 
 
 i^^s 
 
 g^^pj 
 
 p^i?^^ 
 
 ilpj'^; 
 
 5l!|3 
 
 ^^^^^i:i ^ 
 
 
 w >:»jx 
 
 T^F^^ > ■" 
 
 ^ -^-is^ ^ _ 
 
 >^ 
 
 ^■■j^jm 
 
 ► -^SJlgilsi^ . _ ^ 
 
 .Jf^j 
 
 
 ^^^^ 
 
 
 BSgj^^py 3> > >* 
 
 ' '^ 
 
 i^a 
 
 ^.' 
 
 ^^ 
 
PRINCETON, N. J 
 
 ■^^5^2- ^'■"■"■"" 
 
 Section 
 
 Shelf. Number 
 
LECTURES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 PASTORAL CHARACTER 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 GEORGE CAMPBELL, 
 
 D.D. F.R.S. EDINB. 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF MARISCHAL COLLEGE, ABERDEEN. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JAMES PRiVSER, D.D. 
 
 MINISTER OF DRUMOAK, ABERDEENSHIRE. 
 
 LONDON:, 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 BLACK, PARRY, AND KIXGSBURY, 
 
 BOOKSELLERS TO TME HONOURABLE EAST-INDIA COMPANY, 
 No. 7, Leadenhall Street. 
 
 ISIL 
 
ft. WATrS, PRJNTBR, BROXBOURNE. HERTS. 
 

 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 In some late Periodical Publications, doubts 
 have been expressed, oftener than once, re- 
 specting the authenticity of Dr. Campbell's 
 Lectures lately published, particularly of 
 those on Ecclesiastical History. And it 
 has been mentioned, as a circumstance 
 unusual, and affording ground for suspicion, 
 that the name of the Editor has never been 
 given to the Public. That defect is now 
 supplied. 
 
 It is believed, that, in this pTirt of the 
 country, a doubt has never been entertained 
 on the subject by ^ny body. There are 
 hundreds of persons living, who can attest 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 the sentiments to be the same they heard 
 deUvered by the Author in the Divinity 
 Hall of Marischal College ; and, as all the 
 Lectures excited uncommon attention, many 
 of the hearers can recognise the expression, 
 in a great number of passages throughout 
 the volumes published. But there is other 
 evidence, which it may be proper to men- 
 tion ; and the Editor, from the friendship 
 and confidence with which the late Dr. 
 Campbell honoured him, has it in his 
 power to put the authenticity of all the 
 p(5sthumous publications beyond a doubt. 
 The original Manuscripts are still preserved, 
 and, were it necessary, can be produced. 
 This is a fact which many persons know. 
 
 The Lectures on Ecclesiastical History 
 were the only part of his course intended 
 by the Author for the press, and were 
 carefully revised, and transcribed by his 
 own hand. His other Lectures were first 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 delivered in the years 1772 and 1773 ; and 
 the Author continued, during his Professor- 
 ship, to read them to the Students, as they 
 had been at first composed. Indeed, they 
 were written so closely, a^ to admit very 
 little addition or alteration. With these 
 soine freedom has been taken by the 
 Editor, who has omitted several things that 
 appeared to be repetitions, and corrected a 
 few verbal inaccuracies of no great mo- 
 ment. All Dr. Campbell's Theological 
 Prelections are now published, and none 
 of the sentiments contained in them have 
 been suppressed; — a circumstance, which 
 many Readers will think' of greater impor- 
 tance than all the other particulars which 
 the Editor has mentioned. 
 
 Thotigh the following work wants tlie 
 benefit of .his corrections, it will not, it is 
 hoped, be found unworthy of the wellr 
 known and 'long-approved Author. It is 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 more of a practical nature, than any of the 
 other Lectures ; and many of the vakiable 
 remarks and counsels, respecting life and 
 manners, with which it abounds, will be 
 useful, not to Pastors only, but to others, 
 especially to those who fill public stations 
 in society. Every Reader must be pleased 
 with the strong virtuous feeling discovered 
 in every part of the work: and, to the 
 Friends of Dr. Campbell, the publication 
 will be particularly interesting ; as this 
 volume, more than all his other writings, 
 affords a faithful and pleasing record of the 
 sentiments, and of the disposition, of the 
 Author. 
 
 JAMES ERASER. 
 
 Druinoak, Aua:. 1, 1811. 
 
LIST or Dr. CAMPBELL'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 PUBLISHED IN HIS LIFE-TIME: 
 I. Dissertation on Mir<ic[es, in Answer to David Hume. Of this Work, 
 the Third Edition, containing also Sermons and Tracts, Mas 
 
 published after the Author's Death Edinburgh, 1797. 
 
 This last Edition is in 2 vols, octavo. 
 
 JI. Philosophy of Rhetoric, 2 vols, octavo London, 1770", 
 
 A Second Edition, 2 vols, octavo London, 1801. 
 
 III. The Four Gospels, translated froni the Greek, with Critical Disser- 
 
 tations and Notes, 2 vols, quarto London, 1789. 
 
 Also a Second Edition, in 4 vols, octavo, with the Author's last 
 Corrections Aberdeen, 1803. 
 
 PUBLISHED SINCE HIS DEATH : 
 
 IV. Lectures on Ecclesiastical History, 2 vols, octavo . .London, 1800. 
 V. Lectures on Systematic Theology and Pulpit Eloquence, 1 vol. 
 
 octavo London, 1807. 
 
 VI. Lectures on the Pastoral Characte?-, octavo .... London, 1811. 
 
 DR. CAMPBELL DIED IN 179^- 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Lectures on the Pastoral Cpiaracter. 
 
 LECT. I. 
 
 Importance of the subject. —Influence of Example. 
 Vices more especially reproachful in the Ministerial 
 CAarac^er —Intemperance— Impiety— Levity of 
 Behaviour. . . p. 1 to 27 
 
 LECT. II.* 
 Regard to the outward decorum of Character in 
 
 things naturally indifferent Deference due to the 
 
 Opinions of the People— Extremes of unbounded Com- 
 pliance — and of violently shocking their Prejudices. 
 
 p. 28--56. 
 LECT. III. 
 
 Virtues especially requisite in the Pastor. . Meekness 
 and Humility. Obligation to these Duties, fro?n the 
 Example of Ch:ist—from the end of their Ministry 
 — and from the means they are authorized to employ. 
 
 P. 57—93. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECT. IV. 
 Fortitude, or a superionly to either fear or favour. 
 Danger, m our Church, of listening to solicitatiom 
 on any point which is to he of judicial determinafon. 
 Steadiness in the essential part, the matter of our 
 conduct. Meekness, Gentleness, and, as much as pos- 
 sible. Pleasantness, in the ^ik^^^^- .. P. 94— 120. 
 
 LECT. V. 
 
 Of Temperance. A loose and dissohile manner in 
 Conversation may sheiu a more vitiated disposition, and 
 may do more hurt in society, than even some trespasses 
 against the strict rules of Temperance. . . p. 121—138. 
 
 LECT. VI. 
 
 Vices, or evils, to ivhich the occupation of a Minister 
 exposes him. Mr. Hume's account of the spirit of 
 the Pastoral Office — a Caricatura, hut may suggest 
 some prof table instruction to Pastes. Temptation to 
 Hypocrisy, to be overcome by being what the :Hy- 
 pocrite wants ordy to be thought. A bad man ivill 
 find no comfort in the business of a Pastor, p. 139— 167- 
 
 LECT. VII. 
 
 Danger to Pastors from an excessive desire of Popular 
 Applause. To please men y only the means to pro- 
 mote the great end, theiv good. - Instructions in the 
 shortest and easiest luay to become a very great man, 
 a Leader and an Oracle among the People, and to secure 
 a Following: whithersoever the Preacher goes. 
 
 " f. 168— 193. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECT. viir. 
 Fruits of the teaching of Pvlf it Controvertists, and 
 of those who inflame the minds of the people ifilh 
 what they term the defections of the Church. Of 
 competition with others in the common popular arts, as 
 in CHOICE of subjects; or, on certain occasions, 
 " unseasonable VROLixiTY p. 196— 228. 
 
 an 
 
 LECT. IX. 
 
 0/Sloth. malth, a great, hut not the only, corrupter. 
 Neither oatr scanty provision, nor our Ecclesiastical 
 laws, a sufficient security agakist the risk of Laziness. 
 Extremely rigorous laus fall into disuse. The prac- 
 tice 0/ composing of the greatest consequence to us. 
 The proper Employment of Time, and the advantages 
 of following a settled plan p. 229—258. 
 
if htC. NOV 16bl 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 IMPORTANCE OF THE SUBJECT— INFLUENCE OF EXAMPLE 
 
 VICES MORE ESPECIALLY REPROACHFUL IN THE 
 
 mMSTERIAL CHARACTER -INTEMPERANCE—IMPIETY 
 —LEVITY OF BEHAVIOUR. 
 
 1 HE duties of a Christian pastor may all 
 be comprised under these two heads, in- 
 structing, and governing. The first of these, 
 from the different ways inw»hich the people 
 may be instructed, admits a subdivision 
 into two, namely, teaching, and example. 
 For assisting you in regard to the pro- 
 per discharge of the duty of teaching, I 
 have given you a Course of Lectures on 
 Christian Eloquence. I now proceed to 
 give you my^ sentiments on that pro- 
 priety of character, and exemplary conduct^ 
 
2 
 
 which every minister ought carefully to 
 observe. Indeed it may be said, that the 
 duties in private Ufe, of every Christian and 
 of every pastor, are materially the same. 
 Love to God, and love to man, constitute 
 the sum of both. For this reason, one, at 
 first view, would imagine that this part of 
 the subject could admit nothing particular ; 
 an account of the duties, as well as of the 
 doctrines of our religion, being compre- 
 hended under the third branch of the 
 former general head — the Christian si/stem. 
 But, as the consideration of the design of the 
 ministerial office affords an additional and 
 strong obligation to the observance of every 
 Christian duty, it also, in several cases, ren- 
 ders a certain delicacy and circumspection 
 necessary in a minister; which, as in others 
 it is not expected, so the want of it is 
 scarcely attended to, or blamed. Every of- 
 fice too, and that of the ministry among thp 
 rest, has, in respect of moral conduct, its ad- 
 vantages and its temptations. To improve 
 
the former, and to guard against the latter, 
 is of particular importance, and demands the 
 special attention of all those whose purpose 
 it is to enter into that station. This branch 
 of my subject I formerly denominated pro- 
 priety of character, in what concerns the 
 duties of private life. It is one of the first 
 things which claim our attention in the pas- 
 toral charge. More of our success will de- 
 pend on the due observance of it, than the 
 generality of men are aware of. 
 
 I remarked formerly, that the office of 
 the ministry, like every other, has its 
 peculiar advantages, and its temptations. 
 In regard to both, I shall consider, first, 
 what those vices are which in a more 
 especial manner tend to obstruct the 
 minister's success ; secondly, what those 
 virtues are, of which the business of a 
 Christian pastor requires especially the 
 cultivation and exertion ; thirdly, what 
 those evils are, to 'which his very occu- 
 pation itself may be said in some respect 
 b2 
 
to expose him. On these topics I shall be 
 the more particular, both as they are of the 
 utmost consequence, and as they are com- 
 monly too much overlooked . And, indeed, 
 they will afford an occasion of canvassing 
 some of the most delicate and momentous 
 questions that can be moved, in regard to 
 the ministerial deportment. The questions 
 I mean, are such as concern Christian zeal, 
 the nature of offence, the pursuit of popu- 
 larity, and some others, on which it is often 
 very difficult both to discern the just 
 boundaries, and to confine ourselves within 
 them, so as not to transgress on either 
 side, by deficiency, or by excess. We may 
 justly say, that no where does the rule of 
 the Poet hold more invariably than here, 
 
 " Est modus in rebus, sunt certi deniquc fines 
 " Ouos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum." 
 
 And yet, perhaps, no where else are those. 
 ^ fines, those boundaries, so hard to ascertain. 
 But before I enter on the discussion of 
 
particulars, permit me to offer a few things, 
 in order the more effectually to impress your 
 minds with a sense of tlie importance of the 
 su])Ject. Our blessed Lord, in that dis- 
 course which is commonly called liis Sermon 
 on the Mount, (perhaps the fust he ever 
 spoke, at least the first that is recorded by 
 one who was both an apostle and evange- 
 list, and probably present at the time,) 
 when signifying to his Disciples the nature 
 of their future destination, expresses it 
 emphatically, in the metaphorical style of 
 the East, by calling them, at once, '* the light 
 of the world, and the salt of the earth ;" 
 probably alluding, in the former, to the 
 knowledge which they ought to diffuse 
 around them, in their public ministrations ; 
 and in the latter, to the influence, not less 
 important, nor less effectual, though more 
 secretly conveyed, of their private life 
 and example. By means of thisj they were 
 to insinuate into the hearts of the people 
 the love of virtue and true piety, and thus 
 
6 
 
 to crush the seeds and check the progress 
 of immorality and vice. The purpose that 
 salt is often made to answer, in regard to 
 carnal things, was the same with that for 
 which the Disciples were intended, in regard 
 to spiritual and moral things — to preserve 
 others from corruption. In this respect, 
 the pastor is not only under the same obli- 
 gation with other Christians, from the in- 
 terest he has in the matter himself, but is 
 under a further obligation from the influence 
 which his conduct, whether good or bad, 
 must have upon others. This, as it is 
 plainly implied in the words, does neces- 
 sarily result from the charge allotted him, 
 of overseeing and directing the lives of 
 other Christians. *' A bishop,'* says Paul 
 to Timothy, " must be blameless;'' a pro- 
 position still more forcible in the apostle's 
 own language, as it conveys in it an 
 
 argument to support it, Ae» tov eTno-KOirov anm- 
 
 AijTTTov eiva.. The ovcrsccr (for so the word 
 literally signifies, and is sometimes trans- 
 
iated), the inspector into the conduct of 
 others, has surely need to be unexcep- 
 jtionablc as to his own. And, indeed, if the 
 case be otherwise, his ministry will of course 
 become, if not hurtful, at least despicable, 
 among his people, and unsuccessful ; his 
 teaching will be neglected. If they attend 
 at all upon it, their attendance w^ill be 
 merely formal ; he will be heard with a list- 
 less indifference ; his advice and exhortations 
 will be vilified; the consolations will prove 
 cold and insipid, which are administered by 
 a man whom it is not in their power to 
 esteem ; the edge of his reproofs will be 
 blunted; his person will be condemned. In 
 a word, the whole of his ministrations will, 
 like a lifeless carcase, be but a disagreeable 
 and nauseous object. All will be consi- 
 dered as resulting from necessity, as the 
 mere routine of a secular business; and 
 totally destitute of that piety towards God, 
 and charity to men, -which, like the soul, 
 the living principle in our mortal frame. 
 
8 
 
 should animate the whole and every part. 
 " If the salt," says our Lord, '' wherewith 
 " other things are seasoned, have lost its 
 *' savour, wherewith shall itself be salted ? It 
 '* is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be 
 " cast out, and trodden under foot of men." 
 On the other hand, how invincible is the 
 attraction, how efficacious the influence, of 
 a good life ! How just the proverb, that 
 example goes farther than precept! It 
 both more clearly illustrates, and more 
 powerfully enforces, the duties of life, than 
 the other can effectuate. I say, it more 
 clearly teaches and illustrates them. Ac- 
 cordingly, our Lord, who needed not that 
 any should testify of man to him, for he 
 knew what was in man, seems to have con- 
 sidered a Christian example as the most 
 efficacious teaching, " Let your light,'* 
 says he, "so shine before men, that they, 
 *' seeing your good works, may glorify your 
 '' fatherwhich is in heaven." This is preach- 
 ing, not indeed to the ear, but to the eye. 
 
the noblest of our senses ; and that, by 
 means of which the most durable impres- 
 sion is made upon the mind. Precepts and 
 oral instructions are a sort of abstract 
 lessons, which the generality of men, un- 
 accustomed to reflection, are hardly capable 
 of applying to the multifarious and circum- 
 stantiated cases wherein human creatures 
 may be situated ; they are somewhat like 
 spiritual substances, which not being the 
 objects of sense, are with difficulty compre- 
 hended by the mind ; whereas a truly Chris- 
 tian deportment presents our duty to us, in 
 all the diversified circumstances of life. It 
 is, if I may use a bold expression, the sys- 
 tem of Christian ethics in an embodied 
 state, rendered the object of our senses. 
 It is, in effect, that lovely form, which So- 
 crates desired to see. Virtue incarnate, or 
 clothed with the human shape. , Verbal 
 teaching, when it is in its highest perfection, 
 comes as far short of good example, even for 
 conveying just ideas of duty, as a verbal 
 
10 
 
 description of a man*s person, to those who 
 never saw him, would fall short of a mas- 
 terly portrait or statue of him ; or as the 
 most elegant account that could be given in 
 words, of the figure, the situation, and the 
 fortifications of a town, would fall short 
 of an accurate map or model of it. 
 
 But I further insist, that it not only com- 
 municates juster notions, but also more 
 strongly enforces and persuades, than any 
 motives explained and recommended merely 
 hy the oratorical powers of the speaker. 
 People are apt to suspect a certain refine- 
 ment in the precepts of religion, which sets 
 them beyond the reach of mortals. Nay, 
 there are not a few (and none of the worst 
 sort of people neither) who, by their man- 
 ner of speaking on this subject, appear to 
 consider the precepts of religion as more 
 intended to humble our pride, by making 
 us sensible of our defects, than as meant for 
 a profitable rule, whereby to direct our 
 practice. A Christian example, on the con- 
 
11 
 
 trary, serves to undeceive such persons; 
 shewing us, that those precepts are truly- 
 practicable, by such as are earnestly soli- 
 citous to practise them ; and thereby excit- 
 ing, in the sincere disciple, a generous soU- 
 citude for making diligent advances in the 
 Christian hfe. In preaching, the arguments 
 you urge, operate on the people's hearts, 
 by means of the understanding. You first 
 work on their opinions and belief, and, by 
 the intervention of these, on their affections 
 and will. In practice, the motives or argu- 
 ments, at bottom the same, operate by the 
 interposition of sight and experience, which 
 are acknowledged to have a stronger efficacy 
 than opinion and belief. If, in order to 
 avoid some imminent danger, or to attain 
 some valuable end, I must climb a steep and 
 craggy mountain, whose summit is, to ap- 
 pearance, inaccessible ; or must pmsue my 
 way through some lone and dreary desert ; 
 do but shew me the print of a human foot, 
 or rather point out others who appear to 
 
12 
 
 have successfully engaged in the same 
 arduous enterprise, and I shall sooner be 
 prevailed on to attempt it, than by ten 
 thousand arguments. Nay, so irresistible 
 is the charm of virtuous example, that, as 
 degenerate as the world is, it attracts love 
 and veneration every where. This tribute it 
 has often extorted, even from its enemies, 
 the slaves of vice. And, as virtue commands 
 love, love as naturally produces imitation, 
 and thus insensibly assimilates the person 
 loving to the person loved. 
 
 I would only, Gentlemen, further urge 
 on this topic, that, beside the influence of 
 example by itself, it adds nerves and energy 
 to public teaching. These two admirably 
 support each other. I have had occasion 
 formerly, oftener than once, to observe to 
 you, that even Pagan critics found it rea- 
 sonable to establish it as a maxim, that, in 
 order to prove a successful orator, one 
 must be a good man. Yet the subjects on 
 which their eloquence was employed, had. 
 
13 
 
 at best, but a very remote connection with 
 moral goodness. I say not, on the other 
 hand, that this has an intimate connection 
 with the subject of the Christian orator, but, 
 which is a great deal more, that to produce 
 this character in his people is the very 
 object at which he aims. Whatever, there- 
 fore, a preacher of exemplary life advances, 
 must come with tenfold advantage from 
 his mouth, as his doctrine and practice 
 correspond. Inconceivable is the ascen- 
 dency Avhich this single circumstance gives 
 the teacher over the minds of the hearers. 
 They believe the sooner, they are moved 
 the sooner, as they know that the speaker 
 is sincere, that he is in earnest, that he 
 himself believes what he says, that he is 
 anxious about their felicity, and actuated 
 by a hearty desire to promote it. Whereas, 
 without this correspondence, preaching 
 dwindles into form. The careless au- 
 dience is proof against the strongest 
 motives. They have one ' unanswerable 
 
14 
 
 reply to all ; which, whether true or false, 
 serves alike to render their hearts callous 
 and impregnable to his most vigorous 
 assaults. " He does not himself," say they, 
 " believe what he preaches, else it could 
 *' not fail to produce some effect on his 
 *' conduct. But preaching is his trade, it 
 *' is by it he gains a livelihood.'* So true 
 it is, that the overseer of others would 
 need to be irreproachable himself. And, 
 indeed, there is implied in this quality, 
 not only the possession and cultivation of 
 every Christian virtue, but such a watch- 
 fulness and circumspection on this article, 
 as may serve to secure the purity of his 
 character, untainted, if possible, even by 
 malice itself. 
 
 There can be no question, but every 
 vice, whatever, is a real stain in the cha- 
 racter of any man, (when duly and im- 
 partially considered) ; much more, in that 
 of a minister of religion. Yet all vices, 
 it must be acknowledged, are not in this 
 
15 
 
 respect equal, nor are the greatest always, 
 in this respect, the worst. When we talk 
 of external blamelessness, we consider im- 
 moralities in a particular point of view; 
 not as they are in themselves, and as they 
 affect the disposition of the person who is 
 infected with them, but as they affect his 
 reputation, which is a very different thing. 
 It is on this account that some vices 
 may be justly considered as tending more 
 than others to obstruct the minister's suc- 
 cess, notwithstanding that it is the end of 
 his ministry to endeavour, in a certain way, 
 the extirpation of every vice. An inquiry 
 into those vices, which are more especially- 
 reproachful or scandalous in the ministerial 
 character, is what I proposed, in the first 
 place, to enter on. 
 
 When we examine accurately into the 
 nature of vice, and the different - sorts of 
 it which obtain in human characters, we 
 find that they are alinost all reducible to 
 these two classes. They are either such 
 
16 
 
 whose viciousness is clearly ascertained by 
 the external action, being manifestly either 
 hurtful to the offender himself, or detri- 
 mental to society; or they are such 
 wherein the external action is considered 
 as vicious, no farther than as it proves an 
 indication of some inordinate passion or 
 appetite harboured in the mind. In the 
 former case, the notorious ill tendency of 
 the outward act, constitutes, so to speak, 
 the enormity of the thing, and plainly in- 
 dicates, at least, the want of virtue and self- 
 command, if not a depraved disposition in 
 the agents. In the latter case, there is 
 generally scope for some variety of con- 
 struction ; inasmuch as the same individual 
 action may be denominated good, or bad, 
 or indifferent, according to the motive 
 which gives rise to it. To the former 
 class belong all criminal indulgences of 
 appetite, whether excessive or irregular, 
 insobriety or incontinence ; as, drunken- 
 ness, fornication, adultery: add to these. 
 
17 
 
 cursing and swearing, and those other 
 enormities, against which, for the protec- 
 tion of the pubUc, the sanction of human 
 laws has been found a necessary expedient. 
 To the latter class belong those vices of 
 the mind — pride, vanity, covetousne^s, envy, 
 malice, revenge. There are, })erhaps, some 
 vices of an intermediate kind, which par- 
 ticipate of the nature of both, inasmuch 
 as they do not always, though they niay 
 sometimes, clearly betray the baseness of 
 the motive. Such are, lying and calumny. 
 Between the two classes mentioned, there 
 is this remarkable difference: In the lirst, 
 the known wickedness and bad tendency of 
 the outward action renders it an evidence, 
 perfectly unequivocal, of the inward de- 
 pravity which produced it. In the second, 
 wherein the outward actions are regarded 
 purely as signs, there is commonly much 
 ambiguity. They are susceptible of a 
 thousand colours and pretexts, whereby 
 their malignity, unless when it arrives to 
 c 
 
18 
 
 an outrageous height, may be disguised, not 
 only from others, but even from the guilty 
 person himself. It is in the midst of 
 these that both liypocrisy and self-deceit 
 have fixed their head-quarters, and made 
 their principal residence ; there being here, 
 in most cases, no possibility of determin- 
 ing, with precision, where the lawful point 
 terminates, and the sinful begins. Nay, 
 as we are told concerning the Devil, the 
 prince of darkness, that on certain occa- 
 sions he transforms himself into an angel of 
 light, so these vices, like the genuine brood 
 of such a parent, often assume the part 
 and denomination of real virtues. Thus 
 the worst dispositions in human nature — 
 malice, envy, and detraction — are some- 
 times but too successfully made to pass 
 upon the world as a fervent zeal for reli- 
 gion, and a just indignation against vice: 
 Pride nWes herself out for an abhorrence of 
 every thing base, or unbecoming one's 
 rank and character ; ambition is styled 
 
19 
 
 public spirit, elevation of mind, and mag- 
 nanimity; and avarice is no other than 
 the necessar}^ and provident care of a fa- 
 mily. Whereas, in the other class of vices 
 mentioned, if once the actions themselves are 
 detected, there is no evasion for the guilt; 
 however the crime, in certain circum- 
 stances, may be extenuated, it never can be 
 palliated or justified. Besides, it is re- 
 cognised by every body alike. Hence it 
 proceeds, that in vices, which are the least 
 enormous of this class, there is not a more 
 real, but a more palpable incongruity to 
 the character of a public censor, a teacher 
 of universal righteousness, than in the 
 most heinous of the other. In these, 
 charity demands a favourable construction 
 where possible; ; and even where one can- 
 not help being convinced of a man's 
 faultiness, there is still some allowance 
 made for self-deceit, which hinders the 
 faulty person from perceiving it himself: 
 whereas the discovery, that one of so 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 sacred a profession, as that of the Christian 
 pastor, has, for example, been detected in 
 a debauch, is hke the detection of a sen- 
 tinel in the desertion of his post. In 
 either case, the criminal is put to silence, 
 and meets with no indulgence : nor can the 
 one be more conscious of his fault, or of 
 the repugnancy betwixt his conduct and 
 his station, than the other. This there- 
 fore must, in the eye of the world, ap- 
 pear a more flagrant, and therefore a more 
 shameful perfidy (the culprit standing as 
 it were convicted), than even those vices, 
 which are, on the whole, of a more malig- 
 nant nature, and more prejudicial to man- 
 kind 4 but which, at the same time, are 
 of such dubious eviction, that it is impos- 
 sible, to every body's satisfaction, to ascer- 
 tain them, or even to distinguish them 
 from those virtues, whose appearance they 
 sometimes assume ; and in regard to wliich, 
 it is often presumable that a man im- 
 poses upon himself. In fine, faults of 
 
21 
 
 this kind are but inferred; tliose of tlie 
 other kind are perceived : the last fall only 
 under the cognizance of the more intelli- 
 gent, the first come within the observation 
 even of the most stupid ; the latter admit 
 of many subterfuges, the former of none : 
 in these, a man may be self-deceived ; in 
 those, he must be self-condemned. Hence 
 the egregious difference which the world 
 makes between them. Hence also it pro- 
 ceeds, that sins of the former class are 
 commonly distinguished by the epithets, 
 scandalous and presumptuous. The sins 
 of the Pharisees, though very heinous, 
 were all of the latter kind . Hence it came 
 to pass, that though worldly, proud, and 
 hypocritical; though they robbed widows' 
 houses, and for a pretence made long 
 prayers ; they nevertheless maintained with 
 the people a very high character in point 
 of sanctity. Under the general denomi- 
 nation of scandals, may also be ranked 
 some of the vices of the tongue. As to 
 
22 
 
 the faults of conversation, which shock 
 the decorum of the ministerial character, 
 the most observable are, whatever offends 
 against piety, and whatever betrays an ex- 
 cessive levity of disposition. 
 
 God is both the source and the end of 
 religion ; all the principles of it are lights 
 he has imparted to us ; the duties are his 
 laws ; he is the subject of our faith, the 
 object of our obedience : in announcing the 
 one, and in enforcing the other, the preacher 
 acts in quality of his servant, his herald, as 
 the ancient term properly denotes. The 
 magistrate encourages virtue (wherein piety 
 is comprehended), as necessary for pre- 
 serving the peace and promoting the good 
 of the community, which is the sole end of 
 government. The moralist inculcates it, as 
 agreeable to human nature in the best sense 
 of the word, as suitable to our discernment 
 of right and wrong : this is the fountain 
 whence all his deductions flow. The 
 preacher enjoins the same thing, as an 
 
23 
 
 obedience clue to the commandments of the 
 Creator and Lord of the Universe ; and the 
 moral faculty, by him denominated con- 
 science, is only considered as one way by 
 which the Supreme Legislator has made 
 intimation of his will to man ; it is con- 
 sidered as a transcript of his law written on 
 our hearts, agreeably to the sentiment of 
 the Apostle. On tlie other hand, vice is 
 restrained and chastised by the magistrate, 
 as subversive of the quiet and safety of the 
 community : by the moralist it is decried, as 
 a violence done to nature, or an infrinjje- 
 ment of the rights of that faculty which 
 ought to be the ruling principle in the 
 soul : by the preacher it is inveighed 
 against as sin, that is, a transgression of the 
 divine law, of which law the stings of re- 
 morse, and all the natural evil consequences 
 of vice, are by him represented as in part 
 the sanction. And as thus every thing is' 
 viewed by religion in the peculiar relation 
 it bears to God, whatever shews irreverence 
 
24 
 
 towards the Deity, is levelled against the 
 whole of it. Other sins are, I may say, so 
 many attacks on the different parts of the 
 structure of practical religion ; but impiety 
 saps the foundation, and undermines the 
 whole. Other sins, as they shew a con- 
 tempt, or at least a want of due regard, for 
 the law of God, do indeed obliquely strike 
 at the divine authority ; in the same manner 
 as felony, or even any smaller transgression 
 in a body politic, may be said to assail the 
 State itself, of whose laws it is the violation ; 
 but impiety is, in the realm of God, the 
 crime of treason, an open attack upon the 
 Supreme power. Hence it follows, that of 
 all vices, this must be the most shocking, as 
 indeed it is the most monstrous, in a mini- 
 ster of religion, whose express charge it is 
 to enforce every other virtue from the love 
 and fear of God. Happily, indeed, the 
 grosser effusions of this vice are now 
 banished the precincts of the higher ranks 
 in society, by the laws of good breeding. 
 
- 25 
 
 The open profanation of the name of God 
 is hardl}^ ever now to be heard, except 
 among those, who, in all senses, deserve 
 to be denominated the dregs of mankind. 
 It does not more clearly betray a total want 
 of religion, than a total want of good 
 manners. 
 
 But, under the head of impiety ought 
 also to be ranked those more common faults, 
 of making light of things sacred, by bur- 
 lesque allusions, and profane jesting of every 
 kind. Akin to this, but far from being so 
 atrocious, is such an indecent levity of 
 behaviour as savours of habitual thought- 
 lessness, a thing exceedingly repugnant to a 
 proper sense of the importance of religion. 
 Had not immortality and a future life been 
 yet brought to light by the Gospel, we 
 might (I will not say reasonably, but more 
 plausibly) have said with the voluptuary, 
 *' Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we 
 die." But, as the ^ase is otherwise, and 
 as the present life appears only a state of 
 
26 
 
 preparation and discipline for eternity, every 
 step we take is of unspeakable importance ; 
 and whatever betrays a total unconcern of 
 mind, must be extremely unsuitable to the 
 belief of this doctrine. I would not by this 
 be understood as reprehending cheerful- 
 ness, urbanity, and good humour, when 
 accompanied with a manly behaviour, and 
 possessed by one of unblameable reputation ; 
 these are far from being offensive to the 
 severest judges. On the contrary, a decent 
 and innocent alacrity diffuses a sort of sun- 
 shine on a company, exhilarates and gains 
 the hearts of others, and thus does service 
 to religion, by rendering her more amiable 
 and attractive. " Let your conversation,** 
 says the Apostle, *' always be with grace, 
 seasoned with salt ;*' by which, as I under- 
 stand him, he means to combine the en- 
 gaging qualities with the instructive : like 
 that of the Poet, 
 
 " Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci." 
 
 On the contrary, any thing morose or 
 
27 
 
 sullen in one's deportment, any thing like 
 hypocritical sourness, can only foster super- 
 stition among the ignorant, and give re- 
 ligion an ungainly aspect to the judi- 
 cious. But as gravity differs widely from 
 morosenes^ and austerity, so a judicious 
 pleasantness of manner will never be mis- 
 taken for a frothy impertinence and folly. 
 
28 
 
 LECTURE 11. 
 
 REGARD TO THE OUTWARD DECORUM OF CHARACTER 
 
 IN THINGS NATURALLY INDIFFERENT DEFERENCE 
 
 lO THE OPINIONS OF THE PEOPLE EXTREMES 
 
 OF UNBOUNDED COMPLIANCE, AND OF VIOLENTLY 
 SHOCKING THEIR PREJUDICES, TO BE AVOIDED. 
 
 1 N my last Lecture, I entered on that 
 branch of the practical part of the Theolo- 
 gical course, which regards the observance 
 of propriety of character in the minister. 
 After some remarks, in the wa}^ of intro- 
 duction, on the necessity and unspeakable 
 importance of an exemplary life in one 
 placed in this eminent and sacred office, 
 I entered on the particular consideration 
 of those vices, which- are in this character 
 
29 
 
 more especially apt to occasion scandal 
 and reproach. These I observed to be 
 mostly reducible to three articles ; first, 
 violations of the known laws of temperance 
 and chastity ; secondly, whatever in con- 
 versation Jaetrays a want of piety, or of an 
 habitual reverence of God, and regard to 
 his worship ; and thirdly, such unguarded 
 levity and folly, as seem to indicate a total 
 indisposition to all serious thought and 
 reflection. When we consider how ill- 
 suited, or rather how repugnant, this con- 
 duct is to the serious temper of religion, 
 we cannot justly wonder at the stress that 
 is commonly laid, even on a circumstance 
 which is so little minded in persons whose 
 business is merely secular. 
 
 This naturally leads me to consider 
 another point, which will be found of no 
 small moment, when duly attended to ; 
 though to certain superficial thinkers it 
 often appears as .a matter of no conse- 
 quence at all ; I mean, a proper regard to 
 
30 
 
 those outward decorums of character in 
 things naturally indifferent, which owe 
 their estabhshment purely to custom, and 
 the general sentiments of the people 
 amongst whom we live. In every sort of 
 profession this obtains in some degree, but 
 more, it must be acknowledged, in that of 
 the minister, than in any other. Who 
 does not perceive, that a dress, and even a 
 manner, which might not be thought unbe- 
 fitting a young officer, would be exceed- 
 ingly indecent in a magistrate or judge ? 
 A violation of such decorums in any cha- 
 racter tends to bring down the person in 
 the esteem of the world, and thereby to 
 lessen his influence ; but so much more 
 delicate in this respect is the sacred func- 
 tion, that the like violation in the Christian 
 pastor will sometimes prove sufficient to 
 make him either detested or despised. If 
 we consider matters abstractly, nothing is 
 more indifferent than the colour of one*s 
 clothes. And though there may be some 
 
31 
 
 difference in point of convenience, yet, in 
 point of virtue, we cannot say that one 
 particular cut or form of garment is in its 
 nature better or more moral than another. 
 Yet it is possible for any man, without 
 impairing* conveniency, to dress himself out 
 in such a manner, as will make every one 
 who sees him conclude that he is mad. So 
 far in general are we all satisfied, that in 
 many things, in themselves originally indif- 
 ferent, — dress, language, address, forms of 
 civility, and the like, — the custom of the 
 country where we reside is a rule, which, 
 by those who would live in society, and be 
 accountied members of it, ought to be in- 
 violably adhered to. And this is not less 
 true of all the particular customs (in them- 
 selves harmless, for this must always be 
 supposed) which obtain in particular sta- 
 tions, than in those more general ones 
 which obtain in the whole community; 
 Thus, when I examine the matter, inde- 
 pendently of the usages of the world, it is 
 
not in my power to discover a greater 
 suitableness in the doctrines of Christianity 
 to the colour of black, than to that of 
 green, of purple, or of scarlet. Yet, if I 
 should take the fancy of preaching those 
 doctrines in a suit of any of the three last- 
 mentioned colours, I should certainly de- 
 serve to be hooted by the congregation. 
 
 Further, when I recur to Holy Writ 
 itself, I find nothing which, in matters of 
 this kind, gives a preference to one mode 
 above another. Nevertheless, though nei- 
 ther reason nor Scripture decides in favour 
 of any particulars merely circumstantial, 
 both reason and Scripture concur in sup- 
 porting the general maxim, that in such 
 things we ought to be absolutely determined 
 by the notions of propriety and decorum 
 generally entertained by the people. This is 
 manifestly a dictate of reason, which plainly 
 shews us that such conformity is produc- 
 tive of no bad consequences, whilst an op- 
 position in this particular is necessarily 
 
3S 
 
 attenrled with scandal. It is not less 
 clearly a dictate of Holy Writ. Is it not 
 represented as our duty by the Apostle, 
 (2 Cor. viii. 21.) that we "provide things 
 *' honest, not only in the sight of the Lord, 
 " but also in the sight of men ? — n^o- 
 
 *' avSpcuTiMv." — If by the x«Aa, the Iwiiesta, the 
 decent, the becoming, the Apostle had 
 here only meant things originally and 
 essentially moral, the addition of the last 
 clause, '* but also in the sight of men," 
 would have been at least unnecessary; 
 because, in fact, it could make no addition 
 to the sense, inasmuch as every thing 
 naturally moral is comely in the sight of 
 the Lord, and approved by him. Nay, on 
 that supposition, the last clause would be 
 worse than unnecessary ; it woidd convey a 
 false and very dangerous sentiment, as 
 though any thing essentially immoral, if it 
 were not for considerations merely human, 
 would be permitted, or not disapproved, of 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 God. As it stands, it plainly intimates, that, 
 in matters of an indifferent nature in them- 
 selves, we ought strictly to accommodate 
 ourselves to the ideas which prevail at the 
 time when, and in the place where, we 
 happen to reside, and which constitute 
 what is "honest in the sight of men/'' 
 However much this particular mode, or 
 that, is in its nature originally and equally 
 innocent, custom, and the opinion of the 
 world, make a real difference to those who 
 must live in the world, and whose useful- 
 ness in a great measure depends on their 
 conforming to such opinions. In things 
 so evident, I should not have been so par- 
 ticular, if there had not appeared, some- 
 times among young persons, who, in this 
 country, have entered into the holy mini- 
 stry, a silly affectation, in point of dress, of 
 some of the fashionable fopperies ; which, 
 however excusable in other youths, is uni- 
 versally condenmed in them, as unbecoming 
 the gravity of their function. It is mere 
 
35 
 
 trifling in these people to plead, that it is 
 inconceivable that hair fashionably dressed, 
 for example, should be more irreligious 
 than a periwig. This we readily acknow- 
 ledge, when we abstract from the opinions 
 of the world ; and the same, doubtless, may 
 be said of a laced coat, or of a hat and fea- 
 ther. I believe, however, that few of those 
 reasoners themselves would thiiik proper to 
 carry the matter so far as this. Yet they 
 ought to observe, that if their argument 
 be conclusive in the one case, it is equally 
 so in the other. The logical rule is cer- 
 tainly a good one, — Majus et jnirius non 
 variant speciem. But the case, when justly 
 stated, stands thus : — There is a degree 
 of irreligion in gratifying a silly humour of 
 our own, at the expense of our usefulness : — 
 There is something immoral, in wantonly 
 raising in the minds of the people an ob- 
 struction to the success of our ministry. 
 
 But, say they, it is only the common 
 people that will be affected by such trifling 
 D 2 
 
prejudices. Admit it were so. Does it be- 
 come the Christian pastor to undervalue 
 even the meanest Christian ? Does it be- 
 come the servant to despise those whom 
 his Master died to redeem ? Are not the 
 secular distinctions of high and low, rich 
 and poor, learned and ignorant, as it were, 
 totally levelled in the impartial regards of 
 religion? " What God hath cleansed, that 
 call not thou common." But, in fact, 
 the plea is not less false than inconclusive. 
 People are, and must be, universally influ- 
 enced in their sentiments of decorum and 
 propriety, in matters originally indifferent, by 
 the received usagesof the country. It ever 
 has been, and it ever will be, considered as a 
 sure evidence of a frivolous mind, when a 
 man aifects by trifles to distinguish himself 
 from others of the same rank and profession. 
 Nor do I, in the least, scruple to acknowledge 
 myself one of those vulgar, who cannot help 
 judging, from any remarkable appearances 
 on the outside, of the furniture within. 
 
m 
 
 I hinted before, that in most stations of 
 consequence, by the general but tacit con- 
 sent of the people, certain ideas of propri- 
 ety and decorum have obtained. Nor can 
 these ever be violated with absolute impu- 
 rilfty, whilst the esteem and respect of those 
 with whom we live is of any account to us. 
 But in no character is the violation of such 
 decorums so hurtful, as in the ministerial; 
 for not only is there no character in which 
 an attention to piopriety is so much ex- 
 pected, but there is none in which it is of 
 so great moment. I have once and again 
 mentioned the magistrate and judge, as 
 being the nearest, in this respect, to the 
 Christiain instructor. But, even here, the 
 different influence of the neglect of pro- 
 pi'iety is very considerable. Tl.is will im- 
 mediately be discovered, on attending to the 
 means, by which these professions* severally , 
 attain their respective ends. The means 
 employed by the judge or magistrate is 
 force; he beareth not the sword in vain. 
 
38 
 
 The means made use of by the minister is 
 persuasion : " Knowing the terrors of the 
 *' Lord, we persuade men;" and, ''We 
 " beseech you in Christ's stead, that you 
 " be reconciled to God.** Now, suppose 
 the magistrate, senator, or judge, should, 
 both in garb and behaviour, be an arrant 
 fop, he would no doubt degrade himself in 
 the esteem of the world by his conduct, 
 and do some hurt to others, inasmuch 
 as he inevitably lessens the respect that is 
 due to the office he bears, and even to the 
 administration of public justice ; but if he 
 regards equity in his public conduct, the 
 evil is comparatively inconsiderable. All 
 the instruments by which he operates are 
 equally efficacious, as they would be under 
 the direction of the wisest and the gravest 
 person in the world : his Serjeants and 
 officers are just as capable of apprehending 
 criminals ; his prisons as secure for detaining 
 them ; the lines he imposes will in the same 
 manner affect the pockets of dehnquents. 
 
39 
 
 and the scourge of the executioner their 
 backs. Next to that of the niagistiate, the 
 character of the physician, a man intrusted 
 with what so nearly concerns his fellow 
 citizens, as their health and safety, does, in 
 the general estimation, in point of decency, 
 require the exterior of gravity and wisdom. 
 But however much the want of this may 
 affect his own reputation, it will not in the 
 least hurt the efficacy of his prescriptions. 
 The emetics and cathartics, which he admi- 
 nisters, will have precisely the same effect 
 upon the patients as if they were admi- 
 nistered by a man of the most consummate 
 gravity and of the sagest appearance in the 
 world. The case is totally different with 
 the spiritual physician : the great engine by 
 which he operates is persuasion: and of 
 so delicate a nature is this, that whatever 
 affects the character of the person that uses 
 it, does, upon those on whom it is used, 
 intimately affect the operation. If they 
 entertain either a low opinion of his un- 
 
40 
 
 derstanding, or, which is still worse, a bad 
 opinion of his disposition, they will be 
 deaf to all he says. And even put the 
 case, that his knowledge and his be- 
 haviour, in other and more material 
 respects, are unexceptionable, if people are 
 once made to believe that he despises their 
 judgment, and is careless what they think, 
 this will as effectually obstruct his influence 
 upon them as the other. And I acknow- 
 ledge, that there can hardly be a stronger 
 evidence that he despises their judgment, 
 than the being so wedded to trifles, by 
 himself acknowledged to be indifferent, 
 in opposition, not only to their senti- 
 ments, but to the general sentiments of the 
 country. 
 
 But it may not be improper here to 
 observe, that thoudi I have all alon«' ad- 
 mitted, that the particnlar things esta- 
 blished, as it were, by general but tacit 
 consent, are naturally indifferent, and the 
 preference that is given to one usage above 
 
41 
 
 another originally arbitrary, yet there is a 
 real foundation in Nature for the exterior 
 distinctions that are made in different clia- 
 racters and professions, and in the general 
 principles that obtain, in regard to propri- 
 ety' and decorum. For instance, who 
 would hesitate to acknowledge, that the 
 puckered ruffs worn round the neck, even 
 by the ministers of religion, in the beginning 
 of the last ^ century, were equally good 
 with the band in use at present ; or that 
 ruffles at the wrists would be as proper 
 as either, if Custom had been pleased to 
 give her sanction ? The differences in this 
 respect often arise from , merely accidental 
 circumstances, which, if it were always 
 possible, it is not worth while to inves- 
 tigate. But I maintain, that the general 
 principles of distinction are founded in 
 the nature of things : and to those prin- 
 ciples the prevailing taste (unless when 
 
 (l)'The seventeenth. 
 
42 
 
 a total depravation of sentiments and 
 manners reigns) will always be conform- 
 able. You will never find, that, in any age 
 or country, people can be brought to 
 think, that those, whose profession is of 
 a serious and important nature, should be 
 fitted out in a light and gaudy dress ; or, 
 contrariwise, that those whose occupa- 
 tion is comparatively trivial, like that of a 
 dancing master, should be robed in all the 
 solemnity of a judge. In like manner we 
 may justly say. Does not even Nature teach 
 us thus much, that those whose occupation 
 it is to call us, both by example and by 
 teaching, to set our affections on things 
 above, and not on things on the earth, 
 should not, by their very habit and accou- 
 trements, give us ocular demonstration 
 of the value they put on the glitter and 
 vanities of life ? It is therefore to the idea, 
 that is justly entertained, of the end, the 
 dignity, and the consequence of the sacred 
 function, that we ought to attribute this 
 
43 
 
 effect, that ministers are more circum- 
 scribed than others by the sentiments of 
 the world, in respect of dress, diversions, 
 and some other things of small moment. 
 To the same cause it is also to be ascribed, 
 that very often what is not in the least 
 excepted agahist in others, is universally 
 deemed misbecoming and incongruous in 
 them. This judgment, from what has 
 been already said, appears to have a foun- 
 dation, not in prejudice, but in nature, and 
 therefore ought not to be contemned. If 
 we sincerely pursue the good of mankind, 
 we shall studiously avoid whatever may, by 
 taking off from the weighJD of our doctrine, 
 or lessening the influence of our example, 
 obstruct our progress. 
 
 This brings me directly to the conside- 
 ration of off'ence, in its utmost latitude. I 
 have hitherto only considered it in those 
 things, wherein there is a violation of the 
 universal sentiments and usages (/f the 
 country where we live. But the obli*.ci'.iun 
 
44 
 
 the pastor is under, to avoid giving offence, 
 is by no means to be restrained to those 
 few particulars which have obtained, if I 
 may so express myself, the sanction of the 
 national suffrage. Many things it is often 
 proper to do, and many more it is requisite 
 to forbear, from a regard to the opinions 
 of the people, or, perhaps, but a part of 
 the people of the parish with which the 
 pastor is concerned. This, I own, is a 
 subject of a very nice and delicate nature. 
 There is a real danger, and a very consi- 
 derable danger, in the extremes on either 
 side: and it will often require the utmost 
 prudence to ascertain the just limits, that 
 we may neither, on the one hand, by an 
 unbounded compliance, render ourselves 
 the slaves of their caprice, and appear 
 weak aind' undetermined in the eyes of the 
 iviser and the better part ; nor, on the 
 Cither hand, by violently shocking deep- 
 rooted prejudices, throughi an innnodcral-e 
 tenaciousness of thingS' of no value, destroy 
 
- 45 
 
 our influence upon tliein in matters of 
 the liighest concern. Even natural reason, 
 and the common rules of prudence, indi- 
 cate something faulty in each extreme, — 
 the excess, and the defect. If we recur to 
 the, dictates of our holy religion, it is 
 evident, that the Christian law requires of 
 us all, — not of pastors only, but even of all 
 the disciples of Jesus, and that upon the 
 most solid grounds, — that *' we bear with, 
 *' and forbear one another in love ;" that 
 such of us " as are strong," and have more 
 enlarged views of things, " ought to bear 
 *' the infirmities of the weak, and not to 
 *' please ourselves." It requires, by conse- 
 quence, that we abstain ' from such things 
 as are in themselves innocent, when we 
 know that they are accounted by others 
 unlawful ; and when we have reason to 
 conclude, that, b}^ our acting in a different 
 manner, and indulging ourselves in such 
 things, they would be shocked at our bold- 
 ness ; and that thus our example and 
 
46 
 
 admonitions, however edifying in other 
 respects, would be rendered unprofitable, 
 and even offensive to them. 
 
 This injunction, however, has not en- 
 tirely escaped censure. It has been deemed, 
 by some, unreasonably rigid, in the self- 
 denial it imposes ; nay, which is worse, as 
 tending to nourish prejudices, and foster 
 superstition among the people. But that 
 the precept, in the proper construction and 
 suitable application, gives no ground for 
 this imputation, will appear, I am per- 
 suaded, on the most cursory review. A 
 moderate share of experience may convince 
 us, that it is not a violent opposition to 
 popular errors, which is the way to re- 
 move them ; that this, on the contrary, 
 proves often the surest way to rivet them 
 in their minds. "In order effectually to 
 '' extirpate superstitious notions, the peo- 
 ** pie must be managed," said a late in- 
 genious divine, " as infants are managed 
 '' in regard to their rattles and other play- 
 
47 
 
 " things. These, if ye attempt to wrest 
 ** out of their hands, they will cry and 
 *' grasp them more tenaciously than be- 
 " fore. But if you do not mind them, 
 " they come naturally to forget these 
 " things, and will soon drop them of their 
 ** own accord.*' Now, the bare abstaining 
 from any gratification can never be made 
 to imply that one deems it sinful, and so 
 ,cannot be construed by the people into 
 an approbation of any popular mistake. 
 But let us hear the apostle Paul's opinion 
 on this subject, which, I am hopeful, to 
 every impartial person, will appear decisive. 
 ** I know," says he, (Rom. xiv. 14.) " and 
 *' am persuaded by the* Lord Jesus, that 
 *' nothing is unclean of itself." A^ain, 
 *' Meat commendeth us not to God ; nei- 
 " ther, if we eat, are we the better ; nor if 
 " we forbear, are we the worse." Such 
 things, then, are quite indifferent in them- 
 selves, when we abstract from the opinions 
 of mankind ; but if once these are taken into 
 
48 
 
 the account, the case, according to the 
 Apostle, is altered ; what before was harm- 
 less, becomes instantly pernicious. '' Never- 
 " theless,'* says he, '' if thy brother be 
 *' grieved with thy meat, now walkest 
 ♦'thou not charitably: destroy not him 
 *' with thy meat, for whom Christ died.'* 
 And in regard to himself, he adds, '' If 
 " meat make my brother offend, I will not 
 " eat flesh whilst tlie world standeth, lest 
 " I make my brother to offend." Nothing 
 can be more explicit than these words, 
 wherein, at the same time, is conveyed the 
 reason of the precept. Acting otherwise, 
 he tells us, opposeth charity : '' Now 
 " walkest thou not charitably." By your 
 example, you either embolden your bro- 
 ther to do what is contrary to his con- 
 science, and therefore sinful in him; ''for 
 *' to him that esteemeth any thing to be 
 ** unclean, to him it is unclean ;" and, 
 " whatsoever is not of faith, is sin." Or, if 
 he be not emboldened, by your example, to 
 
49 
 
 transgress the dictates of his own con- 
 science, you make him look upon you as, 
 in some degree at least, daring and im- 
 pious ; you so far mar the union which 
 ought to subsist among Christians; and 
 render your conversation unedifying to 
 him, though ever so exemplary in other 
 instances ; you do what you can to destroy 
 your brother. To abstain, in such cases, 
 is therefore a duty incumbent on every 
 Christian, if charity itself is so. But that 
 there is, resulting from their station, a pe- 
 culiar obligation on the teachers of religion, 
 must appear, from considering the nature 
 and the end of their office, as well as of 
 the means by which the 'end must be at- 
 tained. But this topic has been so par- 
 ticularly illustrated already, that it will be 
 improper now to resume it. Indeed, it 
 may be said with truth, that though we 
 abstract from Christianity altogether, no 
 social intercourse in civilized life can for 
 any time be conducted by us to mutual 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 satisfaction, without accommodating our- 
 selves ill smaller matters to the opinions of 
 those with whom we live ; and even without 
 such self-denials as making sacrifices some- 
 times of our own pleasures to the gratifi- 
 cation of others, which naturally produce in 
 them similar and reciprocal concessions. 
 This principle is so important, that it is 
 justly regarded as fundamental to true 
 politeness. And shall a principle of com- 
 plaisance, comparatively trivial, whose ut- 
 most transitory aim is to smooth conver- 
 sation, by filing off, if I may so express my- 
 self, the external asperities of our Jmmours ; 
 shall this, I say, have greater influence 
 on the men of the world, than Christian 
 charity (whose aim is a thing so permanent, 
 as the culture of virtue in the soul, and 
 its preparation for eternal felicity) has on 
 the disciple of Jesus, or even on his 
 minister? 
 
 When I first entered on this article, 
 I acknowledged, that it is however possi- 
 
51 
 
 ble, that one may err here by excess, as 
 well as by defect. It may therefore be 
 thought reasonable, to say a few things, 
 before I conclude the subject, on the pro- 
 per bounds of this duty. Much attention 
 and discretion are requisite here. In order 
 to assist us in this particular, let us always 
 keep the end in view, which is, the im- 
 provement of the people in religion and 
 virtue. " Let every one of us," says Paul, 
 ** please his neighbour, for his good to 
 ** edification. For even Christ pleased not 
 *' himself.*' Here the end is plainly pointed 
 out, *' his good to edification ;" that is, his 
 moral and spiritual improvement. Let 
 this, therefore, in the first place, be care- 
 fully attended to. Let us impartially weigh 
 the consequences on both sides, particularly 
 with regard to the people themselves. 
 Persons will sometimes deny themselves 
 many things, whose sole and ultimate end 
 is popular favour and applause: When 
 that is the case, the sacrifice is made by 
 
 E 2 • ^ 
 
52 
 
 such persons, solely to themselves, to their 
 own vanity and ambition : self is the idol, 
 at whose shrine they offer : they yield the 
 gratification of a weaker passion, only to a 
 stronger, which happens to interfere. This 
 is, indeed, commonly all that is proposed in 
 the polite intercourse of those called ' Peo- 
 ple of fashion.' Concessions are made by 
 each party, ultimately with a view to itself, 
 that equal concessions may be made by the 
 other. The consciousness that each side 
 has of this effect of their pliancy, brings 
 about a reciprocal acquiescence in so ex- 
 pedient a compromise. But in the true 
 Christian, the advancement of the good of 
 others is his great object. This was ever 
 in the view of the great Apostle ; who not 
 only has most particularly laid down our 
 duty in this respect, but w^as himself an 
 ennnent example of it. ''Though I be free 
 '\fvom all men,'' says he, " yet have I made 
 *' myself servant to all." For what end? 
 " that I might gain the more... To the Jews 
 
53 
 
 " I became as a Jew, tliat I might gain the 
 ** Jews ; to them tliat are under the law, as 
 '* under the hiw, that I might gain them 
 *' that are under the law ; to them that are 
 ** without law, as without law, (being not 
 " without law to God, but under the law 
 " to Christ,) that I might gain them that 
 ** are without law. To the weak became 
 " I as weak, that I might gain the weak. 
 " I am made all things to all men," — where- 
 fore .^ " that I might by all means save 
 " some." Thus the great end was their 
 spiritual recovery and final salvation. And 
 when this end is constantly kept in view, it 
 will serve to secure against another faulty 
 excess; which is, making compliances in 
 things not really indiftereiit, but sinful. A 
 man, whose aim is the indulgence of vain- 
 glory by popular applause, will often go so 
 far as to make sinful compliances. But that 
 man, who regulates himself by the only end 
 allowed by our religion, never will : for 
 such unrighteous compliances tend mani- 
 
54 
 
 festiy to the subversion, and not to the sal- 
 vation, of men's souls. The same apostle, 
 notwithstanding his unbounded compla- 
 cency in things indifferent, where a good 
 end could be answered, was like a rock, 
 perfectly immoveable, in every case where 
 yielding would have been sinful. " Do I 
 ** yet please men?" says he: "is that my 
 ** ultimate aim, right or wrong ? If I yet 
 *' pleased men, I should not be the servant 
 " of Christ." A third observation I shall 
 make, is, that much prudence is requisite 
 for enabling us to judge both of the things 
 themselves, in which it is our duty to give 
 way to their prejudices, and likewise of the 
 manner of doing it, on which, commonly, 
 as much depends as on the thing done. 
 
 I shall only add at present, that two 
 extremes ought carefully to be avoided ; 
 either such an officious ostentation of your 
 forwardness to gratify them, as looks like 
 a Pharisaical vain-glory in courting their 
 applause ; or such a reluctance, as would. 
 
55 
 
 destroy the value of a much greater sacri- 
 fice. The manner ought to be easy and 
 natural ; such as shews, that what we do 
 neither costs us any effort, nor are we in 
 the least disposed to make a merit of it. 
 The ancient saying, ' Nullum numen abest, si 
 sit prudcntia* has a very important mean- 
 ing. It holds also in the converse, ' Nullum 
 numen adest, ni sit prudcntia! Or, to give a 
 Christian turn to the sentiment, we may 
 say, Every virtue will attain its end, when 
 conducted by prudence ; as, on the con- 
 trary. No virtue will answer its end, where 
 prudence is wanting to direct it. Is not 
 the same lesson, in effect, taught us in more 
 emphatic terms by our blessed Lord, where 
 he commands us to join the wisdom of the 
 serpent to the innocence of the dove. As 
 the latter is necessary for preserving the 
 former from degenerating into low cun- 
 ning and artifice ; so the former is necessary 
 to serve the latter, both as a guide, and as 
 
56 
 
 2L guard. But I shall not enter further into 
 the subject at present, as I shall have occa- 
 sion to resume it, when I come to consider 
 how far popularity ought to be an object to 
 the Christian pastor. 
 
57 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 VIRTUES ESPECIALLY REQUISITE IN THE CHRISTIAN 
 
 PASTOR MEEKNESS AND HUMILITY OBLIGATION 
 
 TO THESE DUTIES, FROM THE EXAMPLE OF JESUS 
 CHRIST; FROM THE CONSIDERATION OF THE END 
 OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY, AND OF THE MEANS 
 WHICH THE MINISTER IS AUTHORIZED TO EMPLOY, 
 FOR ATTAINING THE END OF HIS MISSION. 
 
 1 NOW proceed to the second thing pro- 
 posed ; namely, to consider what those 
 virtues are, of which the business of a 
 Christian pastor requires especially the cul- 
 tivation and exertion. For it is the lowest 
 object of the Christian pastor, who is 
 called to be an ensample to the flock, that 
 he do not scandalize those, by his vice and 
 indifference, whom he is under the most 
 
58 
 
 sacred obligations to cherish and to guide. 
 But may it not be said, and justly said, 
 that there is no virtue whatever, which 
 does not require to be cultivated and ex- 
 erted by every Christian, more especially 
 by every Christian pastor ? Without the 
 love of God and of our neighbour, there is 
 no such thing as true rehgion; unless, 
 denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we 
 live soberly, and righteously, and piously iil 
 the world, we are not taught of God, nor 
 are our lives regulated by the Gospel of his 
 Son. But, notwithstanding this great and 
 important truth, there are some particular 
 virtues (which are all, indeed, but different 
 emanations from the same copious fountain, 
 Christian charity) that one station more 
 frequently requires the exercise of; and 
 others that are more frequently requisite in 
 another. None will doubt, that to the 
 opulent and powerful there is a stronger 
 call to the duties of almsgiving, hospi- 
 tality, and generosity : to the weak and 
 
59 
 
 indigent, on the contrary, there is more 
 frequent occasion for exercising patience 
 and resignation. The trading and busy 
 part of mankind are more especially re- 
 quired to attend to the inflexible laws of 
 justice hi their dealings : and those, to 
 whose valour the protection of the society 
 is intrusted, are in a particular manner 
 obliged to exercise the virtues of fortitude 
 and resolution. Yet all these still continue 
 to be real virtues in every man ; though, in 
 one profession, the occasions of exerting 
 some of them are more frequent, and the 
 actual exertions more important ; and in 
 other professions, the same thing holds in 
 regard to other virtues.^ Now, in the 
 Christian pastor, though no duty of the 
 Christian life can be dispensed with, I in- 
 tend not here to inculcate those that are 
 fundamental to all religion. I will rather 
 suppose, that their evident necessity is suf- 
 ficient to recommend them to ail those, 
 who sincerely purpose to honour God, and 
 
60 
 
 promote the interests of virtue by their 
 ministry. There are, however, certain 
 quahties of temper, that regard our ex- 
 ternal behaviour, and the manner of treat- 
 ing the persons with whom we are con- 
 cerned ; which, though too httle attended 
 to, by the generahty even of pastors, are of 
 unspeakable consequence in respect of the 
 influence they have on our success. 
 
 The first in this way that I would re- 
 commend to your particular attention, is, 
 the virtue of meekness, both as it stands op- 
 posed to anger, and as it stands opposed to 
 pride ; in which last view it is also deno- 
 minated humility. It is but too common a 
 method of distinguishing, which, in less or 
 more, has infected the language of all 
 classes of men, to consider the excesses of 
 the passions rather as infirmities than as 
 faults, or as what in any degree aifects the 
 moral character. How often have w^ oc- 
 casion to hear it said, * Such a one is a very 
 good man, he is free from every vice ; but 
 
61 
 
 then he has no command of his temper ? ' 
 He flies out into a rage, often on the merest 
 trifles ; is utterly impatient of contradiction ; 
 or is, perhaps, fretful and peevish under 
 every the smallest cross or trouble that 
 befalls him. I must acknowledge that this 
 manner of speaking does not at all suit the 
 notion I have of the spirit and genius of our 
 religion. I will freely admit, that a man 
 may be passionate, and even, to a certain 
 degree, resentful ; he may be envious and 
 discontented ; and yet may be free from 
 many vices ; nay, he may even have some 
 good qualities or virtues ; — he may, never- 
 theless, be sober ; he may be honest ; he may, 
 in the vulgar, narrow acceptation of the 
 word, be charitable, that is, he may give 
 alms to the poor ; nay more, he may have 
 some serious impressions of religion. I 
 will acknowledge further, that I should 
 prefer a man of this character, notwith- 
 standing his violence, to one of the most 
 placid temper, who was destitute of com- 
 
62 
 
 nion honesty, and had no regard to God. 
 But this is far from implying that there 
 is not real vice, or moral pravity, in such 
 unbridled passions. And I must acknow- 
 ledge, that to me it is extremely evident, 
 that no one thing has more contributed to 
 the neglect of this part of moral culture, 
 the discipline of the passions, than the 
 light manner in which many, who, I doubt 
 not, are themselves sincere Christians, speak 
 of this subject. 
 
 But it ijiay be worth while to examine 
 the matter a little nearer. Is not the want 
 of any real virtue whatever to be considered 
 as vicious ? Most vices, when examined to 
 the bottom, will be found to consist merely 
 in privation, or the want of those good 
 qualities or virtues, by which the passions 
 are restrained, and our intentions regulated. 
 Now, what is a more essential virtue to the 
 Christian than charity? rather, what vir- 
 tue can remain in the character where this 
 is wanting, which is '* the end of the com- 
 
63 
 
 " mandment, the fulfilling of the law, the 
 " bond of perfectness ;" and without which, 
 the apostle Paul assures us, whatever be 
 our attainments in knowledge and in faith, 
 in miraculous gifts, or in the exteriors of 
 virtue, we are absolutely nothing? But it 
 will perhaps be said, Why should charity 
 be thought to be affected by those trans- 
 ient fits of choler and ill-humour, which 
 have not a permanent foundation in the 
 mind ? I shall only say, in answer, Consider, 
 I pray you, the chaiacter of that lovely 
 form, that heavenly grace, not as too com- 
 monly misunderstood, but as delineated by 
 the inspired Apostle, — and see, whether it 
 be possible to reconcile . it with the vio- 
 lence and outrage of a choleric temper. 
 '' Charity," says he, " suffereth long, and is 
 *' kind; charity vaunteth not itself, is not 
 *' pufted up, doth not behave itself un- 
 " seemly, .is not easily provoked, thinketh 
 " no evil ; beareth all things, hopeth all 
 " things, endureth all things/' Is it pos- 
 
64 
 
 sible to conceive a greater contrast, than 
 there is in this description, to the violence 
 of rage, which, in features and complexion, 
 has more the aspect of an infernal fury, than 
 of any of the graces of the Spirit ? Could 
 we better delineate this temper, than by 
 affirming of it what is denied of charity, and 
 denying what is affirmed? * Wrath, then, 
 
 * or unbridled anger,' I should say, ' far 
 ' from being long suffering and benign, is 
 ' impatient and fierce ; it is boastful and 
 
 * elated, behaveth itself most unseemly, is 
 
 * easily provoked, and ever suspicious of ill- 
 ' intention ; beareth nothing, hopeth no- 
 
 * thing, endureth nothing.' 
 
 But it may be said. Would you then 
 altogether exclude from the grace of cha- 
 rity the man addicted to anger? Would 
 not this be rather judging uncharitably? 
 In answer to this, I freely own, that all 
 our virtues here are imperfect, that in 
 many things we all offend : and it be- 
 cunics not us, whose knowledge, in most 
 
65 
 
 things, is superficial, to pronounce deci- 
 sively as to the degrees of any fault or vice 
 which are absolutely incompatible with the 
 possession of the opposite virtue, and 
 thence to conclude concerning the state of 
 individuals in God's account. This belongs 
 only to the Searcher of hearts. But we 
 are fully warranted to determine in regard 
 to the quality of things, though not in 
 regard to the state of persons ; as, for ex- 
 ample, what conduct and what actions are 
 either conformable or repugnant to the 
 Christian virtues. And, indeed, without 
 this power, it were impossible that the ac- 
 counts given us in Scripture of our duty 
 could be of the smallest use to us, as we 
 could not with safety make any application 
 of them to practice. We are therefore 
 authorized to say of every fit of intemperate 
 anger, that if it do not shew a total want 
 of charity, it betrays at least a great defi- 
 ciency in that Christian grace. What has 
 greatly contributed to this ill-founded 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 distinction, which most unnaturally cuts 
 off the stronger passions, or those called 
 irascible, from any share in moral culture, 
 (which they seem to think confined ta the 
 concupiscible affections,) is an erroneous, 
 but very general opinion, that every at- 
 tempt to remedy the former is vain, and 
 the thing itself utterly impracticable. How 
 common is it to hear people say, ' He 
 
 * is a very good sort of man, but exceed- 
 
 * ingly ill-tempered : but as to that, it is 
 ' his misfortune, and not his fault, for who 
 'can change his temper?* Thus they 
 seem to think, that any thing faulty here 
 is on a footing with any natural infirmity 
 or corporeal imperfection, like a defect 
 of synnnetry in the features of one's face, 
 or a disproportion of the parts in the make 
 of the body. Nothing can contribute 
 more to render those mental diseases incu- 
 rable, than such a groundless notion, that 
 they cannot be cured ; for will any man 
 in \m senses seriously attempt what he 
 
67 
 
 believes to be impossible ? But it would be 
 easy to shew, were this a proper occasion, 
 from the prodigious effects upon the pas- 
 sions, of principles, example, and early care 
 in education, that there is no impossibility 
 in the matter. ' 
 
 But further, Are the promises of the 
 Gospel ever made to mere natural qualities, 
 which are not capable of being subjected 
 to moral culture ? Is there any promise 
 of reward announced to a superior reach 
 of understanding, to a retentive memory, 
 to a fruitful imagination, or to the beauty 
 of the external form, to the acuteness of 
 the bodily senses, to the agihty of the 
 
 (1) Here the Author obviated an argument against his doc- 
 trine, that has been urged from an exj)ression that twice 
 occurs in the New Testament ; and shewed that it arose 
 merely from the mis- translation of a Greek word. The pas- 
 sages are, Actsxiv. 15. " We also are men of like passions 
 with you." And James v, 17. " Elias was a man subject 
 
 to like passions ^s we are." For the Author's remarks on 
 
 these passages, see his Work on the Gospels, Dissertation IV. 
 section 25. 
 
68 
 
 limbs, or to the strength of the muscles ? 
 Every one, at first sight, perceives the ab- 
 surdity of the supposition. Nothing that is 
 not a subject of moral discipline can, 
 properly, be either rewarded or punished. 
 And to be a subject of discipline, neces- 
 sarily implies that the thing which is so 
 may be improved by proper care and 
 attention, and may become worse by neg- 
 lect. Now to what one Christian grace 
 are more of the promises addressed, than 
 to this of meekness? Providence, in this 
 life, by the accounts of Sacred Writ, seems 
 to be peculiarly employed about the meek ; 
 the retributions of hereafter seem to be 
 particularly secured to them : — " The 
 ** meek shall eat and be satisfied, and shall 
 " inherit the earth : the meek, God will 
 '* guide in judgment." *' When God 
 " ariseth, to visit the sons of men, it is, that 
 " he may lift up, and save, all the meek of 
 " the earth." Again, '' The meek he will 
 ** beautify with salvation." Accordingly, 
 
69 
 
 it is to persons of this character that one 
 of those beatitudes is pronounced, with 
 which our Lord's pubHc ministry, as a 
 teacher, was introduced: *' Blessed are the 
 meek, for they shall inherit the earth." 
 Meekness is often taken notice of as an 
 eminent characteristic of the spirit and 
 temper of Jesus ; and it is always repre- 
 sented and recommended as holding a 
 principal place among the virtues which 
 are the blessed effects of his religion. It 
 is enumerated among the " fruits of the 
 Spirit." It is said to be " an ornament, 
 ** which is, in the sight of God, of great 
 ''price;" and marked as a criterion of 
 *' the wisdom which is* from above." 
 Now, if it is a matter so essential to the 
 whole Christian life, and therefore incum- 
 bent on every disciple of Jesus, how much 
 more is it necessary in the Christian pas- 
 tor? It is so particularly adapted to give 
 success to the means, which he is required 
 to employ ; it is so suitable to the very end 
 
70 
 
 of his calling, and will be so naturally ex- 
 pected from those who consider the cha- 
 racter of the Master whom he serves, that 
 any thing of a contrary nature must greatly 
 diminish the respect due to his office, and 
 lessen the influence of his ministry among 
 the people. 
 
 Permit me. Gentlemen, to offer a few 
 things, on each of the preceding consi- 
 derations. I shall begin with the last, the 
 character of the Master whom he serves ; 
 and, in imitation of the great Apostle of the 
 Gentiles, shall, before every thing, beseech 
 or conjure you, by the meekness and the 
 gentleness of Christ, that ye be like-minded 
 towards all men. Meekness and humi- 
 lity, which, if not co-incident, are very near 
 akin, constitute the first recommendation, 
 whereby Jesus Christ, the true and faithful 
 Witness for God, chose to engage attention 
 to his divine lessons: *' Come unto me," 
 says he, '' all ye that labour and are heavy 
 '' laden, and I will give you rest. Take 
 
71 
 
 ** my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for 
 " I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye 
 *' shall find rest unto your souls." And 
 how perfectly does the whole of his con- 
 duct illustrate this feature in his character? 
 It would, indeed, be to transcribe the greater 
 part of his histor}^ to produce all the evi- 
 dences of this important truth. I shall 
 only attempt to display it, as it shone 
 forth, on some special occasions, in his con- 
 duct ; and that, first, to his Disciples ; 
 secondly, to the people; and thirdly, to 
 his enemies. 
 
 In regard to his Disciples, how long had 
 he to wrestle w^ith their incredulity, their 
 inveterate prejudices, their inattention, and, 
 in consequence thereof, the slowness of 
 their progress, and even their worldly and 
 interested hopes! How gently did he 
 insinuate his heavenly doctrine, as they 
 were able . to bear it, into their minds ! 
 How gradually did he open to them the 
 spiritual nature of that kingdom of right- 
 
72 
 
 cousness which he came to establish upon 
 the earth ! When the ambition of two of 
 his Disciples, very improperly (not to say 
 indecently) displayed, had excited the indig- 
 nation of the rest against them, — whilst 
 their Divine Master, firmly, but mildly, 
 checks the presumption of the offending 
 brothers, how tenderly does he conciliate 
 the minds of them all to one another, by 
 calling them all unto him, and giving to the 
 whole society a most needful lesson of 
 humility, meekness, and mutual love ! How 
 strongly afterwards does he, by his exam- 
 ple, enforce the instructions he had so 
 often given them, to be humble and mutu- 
 ally serviceable in every thing in their 
 power, when he did not drsdain, for this 
 purpose, to wash their feet ! When the 
 last great scene of his sufferings came on, 
 when he was together with his Disciples 
 in the Garden of Gethsemane, — the night 
 wherein he was to be seized by his enemies, 
 the night of his dreadful agony, — even then. 
 
- . '^3 
 
 when all earthly comfort forsook liim, he 
 seemed to find at least some abatement to 
 his sorrows from the sympathy and con- 
 versation of his chosen Disciples. This 
 appears sufficiently evident, from the ear- 
 nestness with which he entreats that they 
 would '' tarry and watch with him:" yet 
 even this small consolation is denied him. 
 And when, oftener than once, he finds 
 them asleep, notwithstandmg his earnest 
 entreaty, and notwithstanding the uncom- 
 mon anguish with which they had seen him 
 struggling, how soft, how delicate, is the 
 reproof he gives ! '' What," says he, " could 
 ye not watch with me one hour?'* Yet, 
 as if afraid that even tjiis were too severe, 
 he seems wiUing to retract it, and with the 
 very next breath pleads their apology, 
 *' The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh 
 is weak;" which is as much as to say, 
 
 * Why should I reproach you ? T am sensible 
 
 * that this conduct in you ought to be im- 
 ' puted rather to bodily infirmity than to 
 
74 ■ 
 
 ' want of affection for me. It is difficult, next 
 ' to impossible, for the most candid mind to 
 * preserve an entire moderation and evenness 
 ' in judging, when agonizing under the most 
 'comphcated distress/ Where is the man, 
 who, in such a situation, can, hke our ho- 
 noured Master, make allowances for any 
 thing that looks like insensibility, coldness, 
 or neglect, in the friend whom he loves and 
 cherishes ? Again, after his resurrection, 
 and after the great and shameful trans- 
 gression of Peter, knowing the real repent- 
 ance and deep contrition of that Disciple, he 
 is graciously pleased to distinguish him by 
 name, in the message which the angel, by his 
 order, gave the women : " Go,'* says he, 
 '' tell his Disciples, and tell Peter." Not 
 that Peter's behaviour entitled him to 
 so honourable a distinction; but this be- 
 nignant Master well knew, that the consci- 
 ousness of his late gross prevarication and 
 baseness, which then overwhelmed the mind 
 of that Disciple, would make him dread 
 
75 
 
 that he were excluded from the number, 
 and no more to be honoured with the name 
 of Disciple, unless he had been particularly 
 mentioned. Jesus therefore chooses, in this 
 affectionate manner, to prevent, as it were, 
 his application, and to take the very first 
 occasion of signifying his pardon and his 
 grace. 
 
 In regard to the people, the patience 
 and meekness with which our Lord endured 
 hunger and thirst, fatigue, both of body and 
 mind, day and night, whenever he had an 
 opportunity of administering relief to their 
 bodies, or instruction to their souls, — and 
 tlrnt without uttering the least complaint, 
 or a single word that savoured of repining, — 
 is perfectly unexampled. No experienced 
 obstinacy, no former ingratitude on their 
 part, did ever provoke him to let slip any 
 new opportunity, which Providence pre- 
 sented, to him, of doing them good. And, 
 even with respect to his enemies, or those 
 who shewed themselves on any occasion 
 
76 
 
 hostile to his pretensions and views, what- 
 ever warmth he displays when the imme- 
 diate attack is on the law and honour of 
 God, yet, when it is his own person that is 
 aimed at, the same unconquerable meekness 
 is uniformly displayed. Witness the check 
 he gave to two of his Disciples, who, on 
 occasion of the inhospitable treatment he 
 had receiv^ed from the Samaritans, owinji to 
 their bigotry, as well as the inveterate hatred 
 they bore to his nation, asked his permission 
 to call down fire from heaven to consume 
 them ; pleading, in this, the example of 
 Elijah :— '' But,*' says the sacred historian, 
 '' he turned and rebuked them, and said. Ye 
 '* know not what manner of spirit ye are of; 
 '' for the Son of Man is not come to destroy 
 " men's lives, but to save them." Again, 
 consider the reception that he gave to those 
 who were sent to apprehend him. How 
 great his clemency, who could even work a 
 miracle for the cure of one of those ministers 
 of tyranny that had been assaulted with 
 
77 
 
 the sword, with more zeal than prudence, 
 by one of his Disciples ! How teiignly did 
 he surrender himself, capitulating, as it 
 Were, only for the safety of his friends ! ''If 
 ye seek me, let these go their wslj." In 
 his behaviour, first before the Sanhedrim, 
 and afterwards before the tribunal of a 
 heathen judge, how uniformly is the same 
 character supported ! Need I take notice 
 of the mildness of his answer, who when 
 he was struck, without a shadow of cause 
 or provocation, by one of the officers, and 
 upbraided as having replied improperly to 
 the high priest, said in return : " If I have 
 *' spoken evil, bear witness of the evil ; but 
 "if well, why smitest thou me?" How 
 beautifully and how truly is his conduct, in 
 this particular, delineated by the Prophet ! 
 *' He was led as a lamb to the slaughter ; 
 *' and as a sheep before her shearers is 
 *' dumb, so he opened not his mouth." Nor 
 was his silence of that sort, which is some- 
 times to be seen in real criminals, — proud, 
 sullen, obstinate : quite the reverse. When 
 
78 
 
 to answer was suitable, he never failed to do 
 it, both to the chief priests and to Pilate. 
 When it could promote no purpose but 
 a bad one, he remained silent. When 
 he did reply, it was always with that in- 
 trepid firmness, on the one hand, that 
 became the great Interpreter of God ; and 
 with that condescending benignity on the 
 other, that suited the gracious Saviour of 
 men ; — equally distant, in both, from the 
 fawning adulation of the timid culprit, and 
 from the haughty insolence of the vindictive 
 sufferer. All his disciples are called upon (and 
 do not we account ourselves of the number?) 
 to *' consider him, who endured such con- 
 ** tradiction of sinners against himself; who, 
 " when he was reviled, reviled not again ; 
 " and when he suffered, threatened not ; lest 
 " they be weary, and faint in their minds/* 
 
 But surely, my young friends, there is a 
 stronger and a louder call to those, who 
 have it in prospect to be shepherds of the 
 Hock of Christ, under him, the chief Shep- 
 herd and Bishop of our souls, to imitate. 
 
79 
 
 in their own behaviour, that example, 
 which it is their duty and business, in the 
 warmest manner, and by all possible means, 
 to recommend to others. This, too, is that 
 of all his virtues which seems the fittest to 
 be begun with, as being the most attractive, 
 and the most level to common apprehension 
 and notice. His perfect resignation, in all 
 circumstances, to the will of God, exhibits 
 him as truly venerable ; his superiority 
 to ignominy and torture, as heroic ; his 
 boundless mercy and forgiveness, mani- 
 fested in his intercession for his enemies, in 
 the very moment of his suffering by their 
 hands, as superior to human, and completely 
 godlike ; his clemency and meekness present 
 him to us in the most amiable and engaging 
 light. Other parts of his character com- 
 mand our reverence and awe ; it is this which 
 powerfully draws us with the cords of love. 
 I have been more particular than I in- 
 tended on this first obligation, the ex-, 
 ample of their Master, which the ministers 
 
80 
 
 of Jesus lie under, to obtain the command 
 of their passions, especially the wrathful 
 passions, so exceedingly ill suited to the 
 character of Him, in whose service they are 
 engaged.' 
 
 But have we not the best authority to 
 affirm, that anger sometimes may be inno- 
 cent, or, what is more, commendable ; since 
 even the meek, the patient, and the humble 
 Jesus, could, on certain occasions, be moved 
 to anger ? I acknowledge the justness of the 
 observation, nor did I ever mean to advance 
 any thing inconsistent with it : it is only, 
 when the passion is irregular or excessive, 
 that religion obliges us to restrain it. It 
 
 (1) Here the Author considered two passages in the Gospel 
 History, which appear at first not perfectly compatible with 
 the meekness attributed to our Lord. The first is in Matt. 
 xvi. 23. where he says to Peter, " Get thee behind me, Satan," 
 See the Author's remarks on the term Satan, in his Work on 
 
 the Gospels, Dissertation VI. The other passage is in 
 
 Luke vi. 24, 25, 26. See the Author's note on the place 
 in the saniC Work, where he shews clearly, that the woe 
 pronounced by our Lord is the voice of lamentation, and not 
 of wrath. 
 
81 
 
 may be irregular, either in respect of the 
 cause that excites it, or the manner in which 
 it shews itself; and even though the cause be 
 a just one, it may be excessive in degree. 
 Tlie cause of our anger is most commonly 
 our pride ; and the occasion, some real or 
 supposed injury or affront. The anger of 
 our Blessed Master will uniformly be found 
 to have been excited, by an insult com- 
 mitted, not immediately against himself, 
 but directly against the Divine Majesty, and 
 manifestly tending to the contempt of God's 
 authority, and the dishonour of his law. 
 When the attack was levelled against his 
 person, — although in this it may be justly 
 said, that the honour of the Father, who 
 sent him, was at least indirectly attacked,— 
 yet, as here there was some scope tor the 
 pica of ignorance, or their mistaking his 
 character, he bore the worst that malice 
 cou'd inflict wilh the most unexampled , 
 meekness. He ever seemed to suffer more 
 on their account, who were capable of com- 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 uiittiug such wickedness, than for himself, 
 on whom it Was so largely wreaked : wit- 
 ness his afl'ecting lamentation, accompanied 
 with tears, over Jerusalem, tlie place where 
 iie had ever met with the basest indignities 
 and ingratitude, and the place which he well 
 knew was to be the scene of his last horrible 
 catastrophe, at that time so near. And 
 even in those passages, Avhere the Evangelists 
 represent him as moved to anger by the 
 obduracy of those around him, they never 
 fail to shew us that his anger was tempered, 
 and in fact surmounted, by a compassionate 
 concern for the offenders:- "He looked 
 *' round about on them wdth anger, being 
 " grieved for the hardness of their hearts/' 
 I acknowledge, that there is no passion or 
 appetite in the human frame which, con- 
 sidered in itself, is sinful : none of them 
 was given to be extirpated. The words 
 of the Apostle, "Be ye angry and sin 
 not," at the same time that they imply 
 thus much, that it is possible that anger 
 
may be innocent, imply as evidently that 
 this very rarely happens, and that therefore 
 one needs to be doubly watchful against sin 
 on the approaches of this turbulent and 
 unruly passion. But, though no human 
 appetite or affection was given to be era- 
 dicated, all of them were given to be 
 restrained, governed, and directed, by the 
 dictates of conscience, and the command- 
 ments of God. Now there is no part of 
 the human frame that a^equires, as has been 
 said, more circumspect attention than the 
 irascible affections do. *' He that is slow 
 ** to anger," saith Solomon, " is better 
 *' than the niight}^ ; and he that ruleth his 
 " spirit, than he that taketh a city." The 
 obligation which the Christian pastor is 
 under to this attention, from the example 
 and character of the Master whom he serves, 
 I have already examined. 
 
 I now enter on the consideration of what 
 is suitable to the end of his ministry. On 
 this I shall be more brief, as all that is here 
 
 G 2 
 
84 
 
 proper to be attended to may very soon be 
 pointed out. When the birth of our Lord 
 was first announced by the angels to the 
 shepherds, the joyful message was followed 
 by the appearance of a multitude of the 
 heavenly host, who joined in this sacred 
 hymn, expressive of the happy conse- 
 quences that would flow from that memo- 
 rable event : " Glory to God in the highest, 
 " and on earth peace, good will towards 
 '' men." It was as a reconciler, a peace- 
 maker, that our Lord came into the world : 
 he is therefore fitly denominated '* the Prince 
 of Peace." The revelation which he brings 
 from God is termed " the Gospel, or good 
 news of peace." The messengers, whom 
 he employs for publishing it throughout 
 the world, are denominated the preachers, 
 that is, the proclaimers or heralds of peace. 
 It is to announce the terms of the Gospel, 
 that is, the terms of peace with heaven ; it 
 is in their Master's name to invite n^en to 
 accept of those terms, that they are sent : 
 
65 
 
 '' We beseech you, in Christ's stead, that 
 '' ye be reconciled to God." How unsuit- 
 able to such an amiable message is a fiery, 
 unpeaceable, and consequently unlovely 
 temper ! How incongruous to the character 
 of a messenger of peace ! How much to be 
 dreaded, that the untoward manner of the 
 servant, instead of engaging, should pre- 
 clude a due attention to the gracious er- 
 rand on which he comes! If this divine 
 wisdom, which is from above, be gentle, 
 and peaceable, and merciful, it is most be- 
 fitting that he who has it in charge to 
 announce and recommend it, should be 
 habitually possessed of that meek and quiet 
 spirit, which is not less acceptable to God, 
 than approved of men. 
 
 Permit me now to add a few things on 
 the third topic, from which I proposed 
 to enforce this important branch of self- 
 government ; namely, from what is adapted 
 to the means which the ministers of religion 
 are authorized to employ, for attaining the 
 
86 
 
 end of their mission. I have had occasion 
 to observe to you, formerly, that the great 
 means to be employed in this cause, is, per- 
 suasion : '' Knowing the terrors of the 
 ** Lord, we persuade men, and we beseech 
 *' you in Christ's stead/' Any coercion, 
 which man is capable of using, affects only 
 the body ; and as the end of civil govern- 
 ment is to maintain external peace in the 
 society, by restraining and punishing crimes, 
 the sword of justice is very properly in- 
 trusted with the magistrate, and is ade- 
 quate to the end of his office. But, as it 
 is purely with the soul, the principles, and 
 the affections, that religion has to do ; as 
 it aims at restraining outward crimes, by 
 curing radically the criminal disposition; 
 as its great end is the securing of inward 
 peace, peace of conscience, and peace with 
 God ; coercive means can have no hold 
 here. Now, if the great means be per- 
 suasion, nothing, it must be acknowledged, 
 is more un persuasive than anger, especially 
 
87 
 
 when excited against those whom it is the 
 duty and the business of the pastor to 
 attempt to gain. Nothing can be more 
 just than that sentiment of Augustine, 
 " Qui docendo nititur persuadere quod bo- 
 " num est, nihil horum trium spernat, ut, 
 *' scihcet, doceat, delectet, flectat ; itaenim 
 " audietur intelhgenter, hbenter, obedien- 
 " ter." These three steps in this progress 
 are intimately connected. We should speak 
 so, as, in the first place, to instruct and be 
 understood ; in the second, to please, so 
 far at least as to attract and fix attention; 
 in the third, to gain and conquer. Nor 
 can we ever hope to attain the last of these 
 ends, but through the other two. 
 
 It may be objected, that on some topics, 
 which it is certainly incumbent on the 
 pastor sometimes to treat, it is difficult to 
 speak in such a manner as to please. I 
 own it is often difficult, but hardly ever 
 impossible; such, for instance, as in the re- 
 buking of sin, which it may be thought 
 
88 
 
 no easy matter to conduct, so as not to 
 prove grating to the sinner. Yet, if the 
 subject of reprehension is the vice, and not 
 the vicious person, the difficulty here is not 
 so great, as, at first sight, one will be apt 
 to imagine. It is the observation of a very 
 ingenious Modern, That though the gene- 
 rality of men be vicious in their practice, 
 the generality esteem virtue in theory ; nor 
 can there be a more popular topic, in gene-, 
 ral, than declaiming against vice, or a more 
 unpopular one than decrying virtue, unless 
 when under the apptaiance of exalting 
 something which is conceived to be still 
 more divine. When, therefore, the subject 
 (as is the case in preaching) is more pro- 
 perly the sin than the sinner, — though it be 
 every way becoming to shew an honest 
 but temperate indignation against all im- 
 morality and irreligion,— still a heartfelt 
 concern for the spiritual and eternal hap- 
 piness of transgressors, and an anxious de- 
 sire of reclaiming them, ought to predo- 
 
89 
 
 minate, in the speaker's mind, over every 
 other emotion. In this way, even the con- 
 scious offender himself cannot avoid being 
 affected, and in some degree pleased; which 
 are certainly promising advances towaids a 
 recovery. Whereas, if the preacher's re- 
 proofs had breathed nothing but rage and 
 violence, he had probably disgusted those, 
 who might, by a more gentle method, have 
 been affected by his reprehensions. 
 
 There is always in violent anger the ap- 
 pearance of unreasonableness, and a certain 
 impotence of mind, which excludes all im- 
 partiality and candour. It is no wonder 
 that such an ungracious aspect should 
 rather repel than attiact. Instead of 
 bringing the sinner to yield, it puts him on 
 the defensive ; it makes him think more 
 favourably of himself, the more the attack 
 upon him appears the result of prejudice 
 and rage, which, to every thing that op- 
 poses them, are always both blind and 
 deaf. No sentiment ever approved itself 
 
90 
 
 more to experience, than that of the Apostle 
 James, *' The wrath of man vvorketh not 
 the righteousness of God." And if this 
 holds, wJien it is sin in the abstract that 
 is reprehended, much more does it hold 
 when the rebuke is actually given to the 
 sinner. Here, indeed, the greatest delicacy 
 is requisite, that whilst you appear to be 
 the enemy of his vices, you may also ap- 
 pear to be the friend of his soul, and to seek 
 his good. It is only thus that you can 
 ever hope he will listen candidly to what 
 you say^ or that your reproaches should 
 excite in him any emotion but resentment. 
 We ought, indeed, " to rebuke with all au- 
 thority," but still in the spirit of meekness. 
 On this article we ought to be so habitually 
 guarded, as not to suffer even the ob- 
 stinacy of sinners, or the indecent and con- 
 temptuous reception which they give to 
 our reproofs, to betray us into any inde- 
 cency of expression or behaviour; for this 
 is, in effect, degrading our own character. 
 
91 
 
 and affording the offender the best apology 
 that we can supply him with, for vindicat- 
 ing his own behaviour, and accusing us. I 
 acknowledge that I have sometimes heard 
 ministerial rebukes conducted in such a 
 manner, as savoured more of a mean resent- 
 ment in the speaker, because, forsooth, his 
 own admonitions and authority seemed to 
 be despised, than either of zeal for virtue, 
 or of concern for the salvation of men. 
 Nay, there are those who, sometimes, in the 
 exercise of disciphne, will descend so far 
 as to threaten the refractory with calling 
 in the aid of the civil power ; not consider- 
 ing how different the province of the ma- 
 gistrate is from that of the pastor, and even 
 in some respects how incompatible. By 
 such means, forced compliances and hypo- 
 critical acknowledgments may be extorted, 
 which may prove some sacrifice to priestly 
 pride, as they are humiliating , to him who 
 makes fhem ; but, by such means, it were 
 absjurd in the pastor to hope to win the 
 
92 
 
 heart of an offender, to cure his spiritual 
 maladies, and to reclaim him. How dif- 
 ferent is tiie reproof administered by 
 Christian charity! I do not say, it always 
 heals the patient ; that is more than is to be , 
 expected ; but it bids much fairer for it than 
 the other. As it is ready to make every 
 allowance for the frailty of nature, and the 
 strength of temptation, that candour itself 
 can lequiie, it excites in the other no 
 disposition to resistance. Like a razor 
 SHKjothed in oil, it pares to the quick the 
 parts affected, entering the deeper, that it 
 does not cause the sore to rankle, as is com- 
 moi >ly effected by a coarser instrument. 
 
 I shall only add (and thus conclude this 
 Lecture) a few passages from the New 
 Testament to this purpose, which plainly 
 demonstrate that the view which I have 
 been exhibiting of this matter is exactly 
 conformable to the sentiments and precepts 
 of the sacred writers. "Brethren,'' says 
 Paul, " if a man be overtaken in a fault. 
 
93 
 
 " ye, who are spiritual, restore such an one 
 " in the spirit of meekness; considering 
 " thyself, lest thou also be tempted.'* 
 Again, to Timothy (who was himself a 
 minister of Jesus) : " The servant of the 
 " Lord must not strive, but be gentle to all 
 *' men, not to the good and gentle only," 
 but to all indiscriminately, not excepting 
 the profligate and the fro ward ; *' apt to 
 " teach, patient in meekness, instructing 
 *' those that oppose themselves, if God per- 
 •* adventure will give them repentance to 
 *' the acknowledging of the truth/' To 
 this I shall only subjoin the admonition 
 which Peter gives, in regard to the manner 
 wherein we ought to . defend the truth 
 against the objections of the Infidel : * ' Be 
 " ready always to give an answer to every 
 ** man that asketh you, a reason of the 
 " hope that is in you, with meekness and 
 •* reverence." 
 
94 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 OF FORTITUDE, OR A SUPERIORITY TO EITHER FEAR 
 
 OR FAVOUR DANGER TO THE MINISTERS OF OUR 
 
 CHURCH IN LISTENING TO SOLICITATIONS ON ANY 
 POINT WHICH IS TO BE A MATTER OF JUDICIAL 
 
 DETERMINATION STEADINESS IN THE ESSENTIAL 
 
 PART, THE 3L1TTER OF OUR CONDUCT; GENTLENESS, 
 MEEKNESS, AND, AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, PLEASANT- 
 NESS IN THE MANNER. 
 
 1 HAVE, in a former Discourse, entered on 
 the consideration of those virtues, of which 
 the business of a Christian pastor requires 
 especially the cultivation and exertion. 
 The first I mentioned was meekness, 
 which I understood, in the greatest latitude 
 of signification, as implying a superiority 
 over pride, anger, and impatience ; or, as 
 some would choose to express it, the mastery 
 
9.5 
 
 of tlie irascible affections. I shall next 
 consider that of fortitude, resolution, or 
 strength of mind, which implies a like supe- 
 riority, when in a good cause, to either 
 fear or favour. Perhaps the occasions for 
 the exertion of this virtue in the pastor, or 
 even its importance, may not be now so 
 manifest as the other. Nothing is more 
 plain, than that it is one of those virtues 
 which was most warmly and frequently 
 inculcated by the Divine Author of our 
 religion, not only on all his followers in ge- 
 neral, but on those in particular who were 
 to be employed in instructing others in his 
 doctrine and precepts. On occasion of the 
 very first instructions which he gave to the 
 Twelve, after calling them and distinguish- 
 ing them by the name Apostles, he forewarns 
 them of the bad reception which they would 
 generally meet with, and the dangers to which 
 they woqld be exposed ; subjoining immedi- 
 ately to this warning, '' But fear not them 
 " who kill the body, but are not able to' 
 
96 
 
 '' kill the soul : but rather fear him who 
 " is able to destroy both soul and body 
 " in hell/* And to the same purpose he 
 adds, in the same discourse, '' He that 
 *' findeth his life shall lose it ; and he that 
 " loseth his life for my sake, shall find it/* 
 To the same great object many of the 
 apostolical injunctions do manifestly point, 
 as when they enjoin us to be " strong in 
 " the Lord, to stand fast in the faith, and 
 '' quit us like men/* It is to this purpose 
 we are commanded " to take unto us the 
 whole armour of God/' the divine pano- 
 ply, '' that we may be able to withstand 
 " in the evil day, and having done all, to 
 '' stand/* It is this, accordingly, which is 
 the first quality that the Apostle Peter re- 
 commends to us as proper to be superadded 
 
 to iaitn, 'Eiri)^opvi'/ri<ruTS sv tjj vto-rsi v^v njv apsTVjVy 
 
 *' Add to your faith virtue,^' as we render 
 it, or fortitude, as it always ought to be 
 rendered, when contradistinguished, as in 
 this passage, to other virtues. If the first, 
 
97 
 
 to wit, faifh, he necessary, as the genuine 
 source of tlie heavenly tieabure, the second, 
 ndiinelyj'ortifude, is not less necessary as the 
 guard. Nay, of so great account was this 
 firm and manly spirit with the inspired pen- 
 men of the canon, that we find dastards 
 and infidels, SeiAoi xai ama-Tot, ranked in the 
 black cataloojue of those who shall be ex- 
 eluded from the New Jerusalem; thus 
 classuig under the same condemnation 
 those who, through the influence of their 
 passions, obstinately refuse engaging in the 
 cause of God, and those who through 
 pusillanimity betray it. 
 
 Perhaps it wiil be said, that the peculiar 
 circumstances of the primitive Christians 
 rendered this virtue more necessary to be 
 cultivated, a-, being of more importance to 
 them, than (considering the change of si- 
 tuation in this respect) it can be said to be 
 to us. It IS certain, they had more ene- 
 mies, and were exposed to much greater 
 flangel's than we : the Jews ana tiie Gen- 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 tiles, amongst whom they Uved, and by 
 whom they were for some ages greatly out- 
 numbered, were their declared foes. With 
 them, indeed, all that was valuable in this 
 world was at stake, — their property, their 
 reputation, their liberty, their life, their 
 families ; in brief, every thing which the 
 malice and tyranny of men can affect. It 
 will readily be admitted, that the enemies 
 of the true Christian, at present, are nei- 
 ther so numerous, nor so powerful ; that, 
 though in some cases both interest and 
 character may suffer, in consequence of his 
 resolute adherence to what he believes to 
 be his duty, the occurrences are compa- 
 ratively few, in which either life or liberty 
 is endangered. It will in lLl<.e manner be 
 admitted, that the very foundation of the 
 danger is considerably altered. Formerly, 
 it was the Christian profession, the bare 
 acknowledgment of Christ as our Lord 
 .\u(\ i\hi,sler, which was the ground of en- 
 initv: it is not so now. However, as it 
 
99 
 
 always has happened, it ever will happen, 
 that a steadfast adherence to the path of 
 duty will cross the private interest of indi- 
 viduals, and obstruct their secular views ; 
 and that this will infallibly give rise to 
 hatred and obloquy. The maxim of a spi- 
 rited French writer holds (I would not say 
 generally, but certainly) sometimes: ** The 
 *' ill which we do, does not draw on us so 
 '^ much persecution and hatred as our 
 *' good qualities : " — to which that other 
 maxim of the same author serves as a 
 counterpart : ** We please oftener, in the 
 " commerce of life, by our faults, than by 
 "our virtues." To the same purpose, 
 though not so general, was the observation 
 of the Dramatist: " Obsequium amicos, 
 Veritas odium parit.*' A man, therefore, 
 who would be conscientious in the cause of 
 truth and virtue, which is the cause of 
 Christ, (and without this his Christian pro- , 
 fession is little worth,) has still need of for- 
 titude and intrepidity. Nor is this all : 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 for even sometimes a concurrence of cir- 
 cumstances will mislead the judgment of 
 the generality of people, in regard to what 
 is ri'^ht and proper: and, however much 
 deference is due to their opinions in things 
 naturally indifferent, their opinions are not 
 entitled to the smallest regard, when they 
 are in contradiction to truth and rectitude. 
 And that this will sometimes be the case, 
 can hardly admit of question. Seneca's ob- 
 servation holds certainly true in the main : 
 " Non tarn bene cum rebus humanis agi- 
 *' tur, ut meliora pluribus placeant." Now, 
 though both the foundation be in some 
 respect difterent, and the effects of that re- 
 sentment which integrity itself will, in cer- 
 tain circumstances, create, be not so consi- 
 derable, there is not less occasion for 
 Christian resolution. Perhaps, on the other 
 side, it will appear, that if the evil dreaded 
 be not so great, the danger of incurring it 
 is rather greater. The danger, to which 
 Christians were exposed in the primitive 
 
101 
 
 church, on account of their profession, was 
 in the highest degree alarming. As it was 
 impossible to assume the character, with- 
 out being exposed to the danger annexed 
 to the profession, nay, and without per- 
 ceiving tlmt they were constantly exposed, 
 it was of such a nature as was sufficient to 
 rouse the most stupid, and to extort at- 
 tention from the most remiss: the natural 
 consequence of which might, in some mea- 
 sure, be expected to be, as in effect it was, 
 that their minds would be prepared and 
 fortified for encountering a danger, which, 
 from their first entering on the Christian 
 course, it behoved them to be in the daily 
 expectation of. As they were warned, they 
 were armed : indeed, the weapons of their 
 warfare were not carnal ; they were how- 
 ever mighty, through God, for pulling down 
 the strong-holds of the enemy, and enabled 
 them, even in suffering, to vanquish, and to 
 advance the cause of their Master more 
 rapidly than the greatest worldly conqueror 
 
102 
 
 is able to extend his dominions by the 
 sword. Their armour was a faith, which 
 overcometh the world ; a hope, that is full of 
 immortality ; and a love, not to be sur- 
 mounted by any earthly consideration. 
 The dangers to which Christians are now 
 exposed are far from being so formidable 
 in appearance ; the consequence is, we are 
 much more apt to be secure and un- 
 guarded. The common enemy then at- 
 tempted to take the city of God (if I may 
 be indulged a little in the figurative style) 
 by storm, and now he attempts to take it 
 by mine: the hostile disposition still re- 
 mains ; the war between truth and false- 
 hood, righteousness and unrighteousness, is 
 still carried on ; the plan of operations only 
 is changed. What was then openly and 
 violently attacked, is now endangered by 
 sap and ambush: and, I suppose, it will 
 be readily admitted, that it is more difficult 
 to be properly guarded against this danger, 
 than against the other. 
 
103 
 
 A second circumstance, which deserves 
 also to be attended to, is, that with them 
 the contest was about the wliole. The 
 aim of the Heathen and the Infidel was, to 
 bring the disciples openly to disown Jesus 
 Christ, explicitly to renounce all allegiance 
 to him as their Lord and King, and to re- 
 lapse into the idolatries and superstitions 
 from which they had been recovered: in 
 short, nothing less than a total apostasy 
 would satisfy their persecutors. The con- 
 test with us appears, upon comparison, to 
 be only about the smaller parts. From 
 the fear of man, which bringeth a snare, or 
 from some sordid views of interest by their 
 favour, we are only solicited, as it were, in 
 a particular instance (which we are but 
 too prone to judge is comparatively a little 
 matter), to forsake the straight path of 
 duty, and violate the dictates of a good 
 conscience. Now this demand, as it ap- 
 pears more moderate, is not apt to strike 
 us with so much horror; and, by conse- 
 
104 
 
 quence, is more likely to obtain our com- 
 pliance. We do not, at the same time, 
 consider, tliat every sinful compliance, 
 knowingly and deliberately made, is as 
 real, though not so glaring, or perhaps so 
 atrocious, a denial of our Master, as the 
 other. Are we not taught by the uneriing 
 rule of right, that there are " who piofe-.s 
 " that they know God, whilst in works 
 '' they deny him." It is therefore possi- 
 ble to disclaim him in this way, as well as 
 in the other. And do not such expose 
 themselves to the reproach from him, whom 
 they falsely style their Master : '' Why call 
 "ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the 
 '' things which I say ?" Why do ye flatter 
 me with an empty title, to which your 
 conduct gives the lie? " Not every one 
 *' that saith to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter 
 " into the kingdom of heaven." Yet it 
 is most certain, that as the evil dimi- 
 nishes in our conceptions, we are the less 
 fortified against it ; and the commission of 
 
105 
 
 one trespass does but too commonly em- 
 bolden the transgressor to repeat it, nay, 
 perhaps to go still greater lengths. Many 
 a man has been drawn in to squander all 
 his fortune, by parcels, on wretches to 
 whom no inducement could have persuaded 
 him to give up the whole at once. And we 
 may say of them, in tlie words of the Poet, 
 
 " Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that, 
 " Glean on, and gather up the whole estate." 
 
 Thus, when the evil comes gradually, as it 
 is not so apt to startle us, we are much 
 more apt to be seduced. Insinuation, 
 though it operates more slowly, will com- 
 pass its end, in cases where violence would 
 have proved ineffectual. 
 
 A third thing, which makes an eminent 
 difference in the dangers to which the pri- 
 mitive Christians were exposed, and by 
 which their faith and obedience were tried, 
 is, that their hazards proceeded almost 
 ottly from the avowed enemies of the 
 
106 
 
 Christian name — Jews and Pagans; our's, 
 on the contrary, arise solely from those 
 who assume the name of Christian as well 
 as ourselves. Those from whom they had to 
 dread danger were so distinguishable, that 
 it was impossible to mistake them. We 
 may here justly apply the Latin proverb : 
 they might say of an enemy, " Foenum 
 hahet in cornw/' ' We are sufficiently adver- 
 tised to beware of him ;' whereas, with re- 
 gard to us, those, by whom the faith and 
 virtue of Christians are endangered, are 
 mingled amongst ourselves; they do not 
 carry a badge of distinction about with 
 them, and may, by consequence, have too 
 great influence upon us before we are ap- 
 prized. But the dangers, to which we are 
 now exposed, do, I acknowledge, affect the 
 whole Christian community, and arise from 
 real differences in the state of the Church. 
 It is most certain, however, that whatever 
 affects the whole society, as Christian, will 
 in a principal manner affect the pastors; 
 
107 
 
 who, as they stand foremost in this spiritual 
 warfare, are the most exposed to every 
 hazard. Indeed we have reason to beUeve, 
 from the predictions of the New Testa- 
 ment, that, in all ages, the faith, the pa- 
 tience, and the constancy of the disciples 
 of Jesus must submit to a probation of one 
 kind or other, differing at different times, 
 as suits the ends of Infinite Wisdom. We 
 know that, in some shape or other, ''Every 
 " one that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall 
 " suffer persecution." There is no possi^ 
 bility, in the present corrupted state of 
 things, to maintain integrity and a good 
 conscience inviolate, without incurring the 
 danger of suffering in one way or other, 
 either in respect of worldly circumstances 
 and advantages, or in respect of reputa- 
 tion, favour, and countenance. Nor does 
 he deserve the Christian name, as our Lord 
 himself hajs taught us, who does not post- 
 pone every consideration to the obedience 
 of Jiis Master, which is indeed always 
 
108 
 
 co-incident with the rules of immutable 
 equity, and the will of God. 
 
 There is, in this case, the greater need of 
 firmness and fortitude, that even what are 
 sometimes accounted good qualities in a 
 man will betray him into transgression, 
 when these are not under the constant 
 government of an enlightened conscience. 
 Thus there are few qualities that more en- 
 gage good liking, than an obliging pliancy 
 of temper ; that from which, in the New 
 Testament, a man is characterized *' easy 
 to be entreated;" that which our vene- 
 rable Master himself enjoins in every thing 
 lawful, as where he says, ^' Give to him 
 *'that asketh thee; from him that would 
 " borrow of thee, turn not thou away ; and 
 " whosoever shall compel thee to go a 
 '' mile, go with him twain." Yet this 
 very disposition, which we are here com- 
 manded to cultivate, and which is certainly 
 a most engaging and amiable disposition, 
 is very apt, unless when accompanied with 
 
109 
 
 great prudence and circumspection, to be- 
 tray a man into the commission of faults, 
 which he would never have been tempted 
 to commit, either through the influence of 
 fear, or through the instigations of avarice. 
 There is something particularly bewitching, 
 to some minds, in the endearment which 
 obliging compUances give rise to, that will 
 go a greater length in persuading them, than 
 what with others would prove much more 
 cogent motives. Now, though a man of 
 established integrity would instantly be 
 shocked with the proposal of an action 
 that was evidently flagitious and unjust, 
 and could be in no danger of yielding in so 
 clear a case, we must always take into con- 
 sideration, that the natural boundaries be- 
 tween the right and the wrong in conduct, 
 or, more properly, between the unlawful 
 and the innocent, we cannot always settle 
 with precision. Our only security, in such 
 cases, is, to keep on the safe side ; for we are 
 sure, on the one hand, that certain things 
 
110 
 
 are within the precincts of innocence ; in 
 like manner we are sure, on the other 
 hand, that certain things are within the 
 precincts of vice. It is only about the 
 confines that there can be any doubt ; for 
 the termination here is not fixed, as it 
 were, by a distinct line ; it is more like 
 that which separates light and darkness, 
 and is called twilight, wherein the opposites 
 are blended, the light being insensibly di- 
 minished by the deepening gradations of 
 the shade. Now, in regard to what may 
 appear at first dubious, a tractable temper, 
 accustomed to bend to the humours and 
 inclinations of others, has a propensity to 
 gratify them, which, in the circumstances 
 supposed, may prove dangerous to its own 
 peace and virtue. The tendency which 
 men have very generally, if not universally, 
 to believe what they wish, will mislead a 
 man to think more favourably of the case 
 than he would otherwise have done ; and 
 one presumption paves the way for an- 
 
Ill 
 
 other. Venture for once, or twice, or per- 
 haps thrice, on what you have reason to 
 doubt is a criminal part, and it is a hun- 
 dred to one you will not stop there, but, 
 with as much ease at least, risk afterwards 
 the doing what you know to be such. 
 
 It deserves our attention, that true for- 
 titude does not consist merely in a su- 
 periority to fear, and in braving bodily 
 danger ; but, when considered as a virtue, 
 it implies that strength of mind which qua- 
 lifies us alike for resisting both our fears 
 and our desires, whenever they would in- 
 cline us to deviate from the line of duty ; 
 in brief, which admits no gratification 
 whatever at the expense of probity. Now 
 it is a most certain fact, that it costs some 
 persons a much stronger exertion to resist 
 the inclination they have to gratify and 
 oblige, than it would cost them to depise 
 any menaces that could be used to influence 
 them : in such persons, it is the part of 
 true fortitude and necessary self-£jovem- 
 
112 
 
 ment to be able to refuse with steadiness 
 and resolution, when to comply is in any 
 deforce repugnant to the calls of duty, or, 
 which is in effect the same, though not so 
 obviously, when contrary to the dictates of 
 Christian prudence. Let it be observed, 
 that here our danger is in some respect the 
 greater, that it is not solely by bad people 
 that we are liable to be misled ; it is often 
 by such as really mean us no harm, but 
 may happen to think differently from us on 
 those matters, perhaps misled by personal 
 interest, or by early prejudices. It may 
 be, they are people to whom we have 
 ourselves been indebted, and whom we 
 would gladly have it in our power to 
 oblige ; it may be too, that we are afraid of 
 the suspicion or censure of ingratitude, if 
 we do not comply. Ail these have na- 
 turally some influence, and, on the best 
 dispositions, commonly the greatest. Yet 
 still, where there is. ground to think that 
 they would lead to an infringement of the 
 
113 
 
 inflexible rule of rectitude, true magnani- 
 mity requires that they be resisted. 
 
 I shall, for the sake of illustration, 
 instance one kind only of seduction, to 
 which the pastors in this country are some- 
 times exposed. From the constitution of 
 our National Church, the ministers of re- 
 ligion are endowed with certain powers, as 
 judges in the Ecclesiastical Courts. This 
 often exposes them to solicitations from 
 persons who do not by any means intend 
 to insult them, (though a solicitation on 
 any point, which is to be a matter of judi- 
 cial determination, is really an insult) ; but 
 having some interest on one side, and nei- 
 ther the delicacy nor the discernment to 
 perceive an impropriety in such applica- 
 tions, they often, with as little ceremony as 
 decency, urge their suit. I do own to you, 
 that I believe there is nothing which, in 
 this country, has tended more to lessen the 
 ministerial character, than too great a rea- 
 diness- in many to give way to addresses of 
 
114 
 
 this kind. No pretence of former obliga- 
 tions can excuse it. The debts of grati- 
 tude are never to be paid at the expense of 
 justice : I might as reasonably rob my 
 neighbour, to discharge my creditor: for 
 wherever there are parties concerned in the 
 decision, the case is perfectly similar. And 
 even where there are not, where the matter 
 is not so properly a matter of judgment 
 as a matter of counsel and deliberation, 
 there is still a right and a wrong, a true 
 and a false, in things which ought ever to 
 influence us beyond all personal considera- 
 tions : — Cams amicus, sed Veritas carior. In- 
 deed, if the pastor maintains a proper 
 dignity of behaviour, as well as integrity, 
 he will, I must acknowledge, be rarely ex- 
 posed to any trial of this kind. If you 
 would uniformly maintain this dignity, be 
 cautious, even though your opinion of the 
 matter should fall in entirely with what is 
 solicited by your friend, of giving him 
 so much as the shadow of a s^round to 
 
115 
 
 imagine that his apphcation had any in- 
 fluence on your judgment. If you are 
 weak enouojh, or wicked enouijh, to assume 
 a merit with him from your conduct, you 
 expose yourself ever after to the hke in- 
 dignities; for they ought to be regarded 
 as such in their consequences, however 
 they were meant. 
 
 Are we, then, roughly and bluntly to 
 reject every suit of this kind, from what 
 quarter soever it shall come ? We ought 
 doubtless to reject it ; but I know no ad- 
 vantage that accrues to any cause from 
 roughness of manner. There is a manly 
 firmness that it is extremely proper to 
 maintain on such occasions ; but this has no 
 affinity to passion and asperity. The latter 
 always betray weakness, rather than strength 
 of mind ; and rarely fail of making that 
 conduct appear merely the result of humour, 
 which ought to appear the sole effect of 
 settled and well-weighed principles of action. 
 If the servant of the Lord must be patient 
 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 and gentle to all men, there can be no good 
 apology offered for adding to the refusal 
 any thing that savours of rudeness. Indeed 
 there is something in the manner of doing 
 thin«fs, to which more is often to be attri- 
 buted, than to the things done. It requires 
 but little practice of the world to observe, 
 that one man shall refuse a favour more 
 obligingly than another grants it. The 
 former refuses in such a manner as con- 
 vinces you that he would have liked much 
 better to gratify you, were it a thing proper 
 to be done : another grants your suit, but 
 with so much haughtiness, with such an air 
 of superiority, as seems to upbraid you 
 with the weight of the obligation he is 
 laying you under. The former gains your 
 esteem at least, if not your love, in spite 
 of his refusal ; the latter hurts your sensi- 
 bility, and loses you, in spite of his com- 
 phance. But I am sensible there is some- 
 thing too delicate in this affair to be either 
 explain(^d or enforced by mere verbal 
 
117 
 
 instruction. Knowledge of life and cha- 
 racter, attention to the real consequences 
 of things, and self-command, are absolutely 
 necessary. 
 
 Do not imagine, that by the recommen- 
 dation I have given, of joining a certain 
 pleasantness of manner to manly firmness 
 of conduct, that I mean to recommend 
 that mere external polish, so much valued 
 by ' men of the world,' as they are called, 
 and in which there is commonly so much 
 disingenuousness and dissimulation. What is 
 called ' good manners*, when taken by itself, 
 is a mere exterior, and may not unfitly be 
 defined, in Shakspeare's phrase, " the simu- 
 lar of virtue." The couijtesy of a well-bred 
 man has, in those little matters and formali- 
 ties about which it is employed, a certain 
 semblance of the benevolence, the meekness, 
 the gentleness, the modesty, the humility, 
 and even the self-denial of the Christian, — 
 '' every one in honour preferring another;'' 
 as the Apostle expresses it. But here lies 
 
118 
 
 the difference, that the bare exterior, the 
 mere semblance, is considered as all that is 
 necessary for the character of the man of 
 fashion : and this is of so great account 
 with him, that the substance is often sacri- 
 ficed to the shadow ; as holds in the case of 
 flattery, when a man would please another 
 at the expense of ti uth and sincerity. It 
 is very much otherwise with the Christian, 
 who considers mere externals as of little 
 or no significance, without those internal and 
 essential principles, from which the other 
 ought naturally to proceed. Good-breeding, 
 as the word is commonly understood, is a 
 mere varnish : it is not a superficial qua- 
 hty, such as this, which I would recom- 
 mend to the Christian pastor. I am far 
 from being unfriendly to good-breeding : 
 it is certainly ornamental to the character; 
 nay more, it is useful, when regulated by 
 a strict regard to truth. But then I would 
 have, in the minister of religion, the po- 
 liteness ^{ the gentleman grafted on the 
 
119 
 
 virtue of the Christian. Without the latter, 
 the former is but a painted bubble, a thing 
 of no intrinsic value: without the former, 
 the latter, though still highly valuable, 
 loses much of its beauty, and even of its 
 influence. Take them therefore separately, 
 and I acknowledge, that, beyond all com- 
 parison, virtue adds greater value to the 
 character ; yet even that value is con- 
 siderably enhanced by the union. I 
 should, no doubt, prefer an unpohshed 
 diamond to a pebble ever so highly po- 
 lished ; yet even the diamond itself, when 
 cut and polished, is of greater value, as 
 w^ell as beauty, than it was before. Our 
 Lord himself did not disdain sometimes to 
 give admonitions that seem to refer more 
 immediately to the article of good-breeding. 
 I shall not therefore hesitate to conclude 
 this Discourse, by adding to the more im- 
 portant duties of Christianity- an admo- 
 nition which Peter did not thhik unsuit- 
 able- to the dignity of the Apostolate,-— 
 
120 
 
 *' Be courteous ;" — ever endeavour to unite 
 manly resolution and steadiness, in what re- 
 gards the essential part, the matter of your 
 conduct, with gentleness, meekness, and, as 
 much as possible, pleasantness, in what 
 regards the manner ; or, as a late Writer 
 expiesses it, '' Siiaviter in wodo, fortiter 
 in re/* 
 
121 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 OP TEMPERANCE. A LOOSE AND DISSOLUTE MANNER 
 
 IN CONVERSATION MAY SHEW A MORE VITIATED DIS- 
 POSITION, AND DO MORE HURT IN SOCIETY, THAN 
 ; EVEN SOME TRESPASSES AGAINST THE STRICT RULES 
 OF TEMPERANCE. 
 
 Among the virtues, of which the office of 
 a minister of rehgion in a particular manner 
 requires the exertion, I have mentioned, 
 and considered at some length, meekness, or 
 a superiority over anger, pride, and im- 
 patience ; fortitude, or that strength of 
 mind, which, in all matters wherein duty 
 is concerned, makes a man superior both 
 to fear and to favour. I shall now con- 
 sider the duty of temperance, implying the 
 mastery of concupiscible affections ; under. 
 
which I also include what may pro- 
 perly be called Christian self-denial. There 
 is no virtue which has been held in higher 
 estimation by the generality of people, or 
 been considered as more essential to the 
 character of a pastor, than a proper self- 
 government in this respect, or a due com- 
 mand over the inferior and bodily appetites : 
 yet there is no virtue, in the Christian 
 life, which hath been more generally mis- 
 understood, or which superstition and 
 fanaticism have dressed out in a more 
 fantastic garb. It is acknowledged, on all 
 hands, that it would ill befit the teacher of 
 a doctrine so pure and heavenly to be 
 the slave of appetite. To be voluptuous, 
 and to be heavenly-minded, can scarcely, 
 to any understanding, appear compatible. 
 But what must we do, in order to subdue 
 appetite ? Must we extirpate it alto- 
 gether ? No: it is impossible. And 
 though it were possible, it would not be 
 virtuous. In taming a monster or wild 
 
12.3 
 
 beast, and rendering him not only harm- 
 less, but useful, greater ability is requisite; 
 and therefore more glory is attained, than 
 would be acquired in killing him. The 
 corporeal appetites were given for necessary 
 and important purposes, — for the preserva- 
 tion and continuation of the human race. 
 How absurd to suppose we can recommend 
 ourselves to the beneficent Creator, by coun- 
 teracting his purpose, so clearly mani Tested 
 in our frame ! Still, however, it was intended 
 that these appetites should be in subordi- 
 nation to the mind. So much care, we may 
 well conclude, has not been taken by Provi- 
 dence, both of the individual and of the spe- 
 cies, merely that they maj exist. Existence 
 itself is given to man for a further and a 
 nobler end. The light of Nature more 
 obscurely, the light of Revelation more 
 clearly, point to this great end, the per- 
 fecting of his nature, by his-pursi.ing a 
 conformity to the will of God, and thereby 
 rising to the highest felicity of wliich he is- 
 
124 
 
 susceptible. Wherever, therefore, the in- 
 dulgence of appetite contravenes this ulti- 
 mate design of our being, it must be un- 
 lawful, and ought to be restrained. The 
 well-instructed Christian distinguishes be- 
 tween the means and the end ; and even of 
 ends, when they interfere, he distinguishes 
 those of a higher from those of a lower 
 order. The sensualist, on the contrary, 
 converts the means into the end, and the 
 end into the means : what is the lowest in 
 the order of nature, is, in his account, the 
 highest. The former eats, that he may 
 live ; the latter lives, that he may eat. But, 
 to be more particular, it is proper to in- 
 quire, what the restraints are, which the 
 Christian religion lays on the appetites of 
 its votaries. 
 
 The first restraint which we are here 
 laid under, is, when the gratification of our 
 own appetite proves in any way prejudicial 
 to another. It is a conscientious regard to 
 this check, that constitutes the virtue of 
 
125 
 
 chastity ; a trespass against which always 
 imphes injury to our neighbour, and a vio- 
 lation of laws essential to the good order, 
 and therefore to the welfare, of society. 
 Xhe same consideration may also occa- 
 sionally take place, in controling other ap- 
 petites. Hence the duty of denying our- 
 selves in what is not necessary to us, 
 and may prove matter of offence to the 
 weak. 
 
 The second restraint, which Christianity 
 lays us under, is moderation in the indul- 
 gence, even though the rights of others 
 should be no wise affected. This implies, 
 not only that we guard against excess, but 
 that we be free from every thing that 
 savours of epicurism in those inferior gra- 
 tifications. This appears, not only from 
 the strict injunctions of our Lord, against 
 all anxiety in regard to what we shall eat, or 
 what we shall drink, as well as in regard to 
 what we shall wear, but also from the ex- 
 press charge he gave hi^ Disciples, to eat. 
 
126 
 
 such things, wherever they came, as were 
 set before them. It would as ill befit the 
 Clu'istian temperance to ask questions, 
 hke the voluptuary, for the sake of ap- 
 petite, as it would the hberal spirit which 
 the Gospel breathes, to ask questions, like 
 the Judaizing Christians in the Apostolic 
 age, for the sake of conscience. Hence 
 arise the virtues of continence and sobriety, 
 — and, from the want of this check, the 
 opposite vices, lasciviousness, effeminacy, 
 drunkenness, gluttony, sloth; for the de- 
 sire of rest, till our exhausted powers shall 
 be recruited, is a corporeal appetite, as 
 necessary for our preservation as either 
 hunger or thirst, but, like all other appe*- 
 tites, is liable to abuse, and, when indulged 
 to excess, degenerates into vice. There is 
 a certain degree, beyond which if we pro- 
 ceed, the end of Nature is . not only un- 
 answered, but the very reverse is promoted. 
 Food is absolutely necessary for preserving 
 health and prolonging life ; but debauchery 
 
127 
 
 of every kind tends directly to ruin health, 
 and shorten life. Rest at proper intervals 
 is necessary, but laziness and inactivity are 
 pernicious. And how are they pernicious ? 
 They debilitate all the powers, both of body 
 and mind. Nor is this all: excessive in- 
 dulgence produces an habitual indolence 
 and lassitude ; in consequence of which, 
 men are, in a great measure, indisposed for 
 the discharge of the most momentous 
 duties. 
 
 It may not be improper here to observe, 
 that as the Christian pastors are intended 
 for being in all things ensamples to the 
 flock, it is not enough that in this respect 
 they avoid scandal, — they ought to be ex- 
 emplary. Neither can we always judge 
 infallibly, by the degree in which any parti- 
 cular action or habit is scandalous, of the 
 degree in which it is vicious. I acknow- 
 ledge, indeed, that the scandal -itself makes 
 an additional aggravation in a character 
 . which is peculiarly liable to be hurt by it i 
 
128' 
 
 but hardly will any person of reflection 
 hesitate to say, that one- may be a greater 
 sensualist, who was never seen drunk, than 
 another who has sometimes been detected 
 in that disgraceful situation. The latter, 
 though not given to appetite, and no 
 drunkard, may have been betrayed into 
 such circumstances in an unguarded hour, 
 by qualities in themselves not bad, nay, if 
 under proper government, even commend- 
 able ; but there can be no decent apology 
 for either the glutton or the epicure. Yet 
 the former vice, I acknowledge, gives 
 greater scandal in the ministerial character ; 
 and that merely because its bad conse- 
 quences are more immediate, and less equi- 
 vocal. Something similar may be ob- 
 served in regard to some other sensual in- 
 dulgences. The name * whoremonger/ like 
 * glutton' and ' drunkard,' to every person of 
 discernment, conveys the idea of something 
 despicable, as well as vicious. Yet a man 
 who, though no rake, may have been 
 
129 
 
 chargeable with some trespass against the 
 laws of chastity, is not, in the eye of impar- 
 tial reason, half so odious, or so vitiated in 
 disposition, as another, who, though per- 
 haps not accused of the like transgressions 
 in practice, indulges himself in a loose and 
 dissolute manner in conversation, which far 
 more effectually taints the imaginations of 
 the hearers, and corrupts their hearts, than 
 the influence of the bad example of the 
 other is able to effect. I must acknow- 
 ledge too, that, in my opinion, an habitual 
 tendency to discourse of this sort betrays 
 a pruriency of appetite, and a polluted fancy, 
 which savour more of a rooted voluptuous- 
 ness, than could justly be concluded from 
 several slips in conduct. 
 
 It has been observed, that where there 
 is in the constitution a proneness to sen- 
 sual indulgences, that has not been subdued 
 by just and enlarged sentiments of religion 
 and virtue, if it be restrained on one side 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 by considerations merely prudential, it will 
 naturally break forth on another. And tliis 
 has given rise to a second observation, 
 closely connected with the former, that 
 those people, who, from their profession, or 
 something particular in their station and 
 circumstances, are obliged to a st. icter ob- 
 servance of decorum than others, in regard 
 to certain actions, often take greater liber- 
 ties in respect of such other actions as do 
 not equally expose them to the censure of 
 the multitude. Though they will take care 
 to avoid drunkenness, they have no scruple 
 in pampering themselves ; and if they can- 
 not be accused of whoredom, they appear 
 resolved to compensate for this loss (for so 
 they seem to account it) by feeding their 
 imaginations with licentious talk. I ac- 
 knowledge, candidly, that I think there is 
 some foundation for these remarks ; and 
 though the examples of this kind in the 
 ministerial office. are (God be blessed!) far 
 
131 
 
 from being numerous, yet, on the other 
 hand, we cannot say with truth that it is 
 impossible to find such instances. I once 
 knew such a one myself, a singularity in- 
 deed, whose whole conversation was com- 
 posed alternately of fanaticism and ob- 
 scenity, and sometimes of a jumble of both 
 in the same sentence: — I say fanaticism ; for 
 we may be certain that one of this cha- 
 racter has no idea of rational religion, or of 
 the genuine spirit of the Gospel, which 
 could never, like the cant of a faction, com- 
 monly very pliant where practical religion 
 only is concerned, be rendered capable of a 
 coalition so unnatural. Such a one, in my 
 judgment, I will tell you plainly, deserves 
 deprivation no less than an open debauchee. 
 And I am strongly inclined to think, that 
 one of this cast does f u ^ as much hurt by 
 his conversation, as the otlier by his prac- 
 tice. The taint is, after a litrtle time, but 
 too easily taken, even by Uiose who at first 
 viewed it with disgust : — 
 
 K 2 ^ 
 
132 
 
 " Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
 " As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
 " But seen too oft, fiimiliar with her face, 
 " We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 
 
 It is incumbent un every Christian pastor, 
 who Avould faithfully discharge the trust 
 committed to him, to endeavour, as far as 
 his example will extend, to wipe out every 
 stain that may have been thrown upon the 
 character. Surely pampering, and luxury 
 of any kind, ill befits the man who has it hi 
 chaige to enjoin others to be temperate in 
 all things ; and his conversation would need 
 to be peculiarly chaste and pure, who would 
 persuade the Christian people to purity, in 
 thought and word, as well as in deed, and 
 particularly to put all fdthy communication 
 out of their mouth. Double meanings, and 
 indecent jokes, are especially to be avoided : 
 ■^ind were I to tell you freely my opinion in 
 a inntler that perhaps to others will ap- 
 pear either trivial or innocent, I would, as 
 far as my intliience could go, banish entirely 
 
133 
 
 that bane of decency and good manners, 
 called ' Sentimental toasts.' I do not deny 
 that they may be, and sometimes are, ma- 
 naged in such a manner, as to be very 
 harmless; but it is very plain, that by 
 means of the enigmatical style allowed in 
 these, they supply the lewd and dissolute 
 (when there happen to be such in the com- 
 pany) with a kind of vehicle for convey- 
 ing their nasty prurient conceptions. And 
 things of this kind, which might have been 
 easily prevented, by not affording them 
 sucli pretexts, it is not always possible after- 
 wards properly to redress. So much for 
 the two first cliecks, which require that we 
 always avoid any indulgence to ourselves 
 which may prove injurious to another, and 
 that we carefully avoid excess in these in- 
 dulgences, which never fails, in one way or 
 other, to prove injurious to ourselves, either 
 in body, in mind, or in both. . 
 
 It must be owned, however, that the 
 utmost we can be said to attain, even by 
 
134 
 
 a regular and habitual submission to these 
 restraints, is, barely not to be vicious. The 
 man who is only thus far temperate, is en- 
 titled to no more than the negative praise 
 ofbeino; on this article blameless. Would 
 we attain that command over the body 
 which the spirit of our religion implies, and 
 which is truly praise-worthy and virtuous, 
 more is necessary. Our blessed Lord, 
 who in all things ought to be regarded as 
 our great Standard and Exemplar, though 
 he twice fed the multitude miraculously, 
 could not be induced to work a miracle, on 
 a very pressing occasion, to satisfy his own 
 hunger. Why this difference ? The first, 
 namely, the feeding of the multitude by 
 miracle in the desert, was an act of hu- 
 manity ; the second, to wit, the miraculous 
 conversion of stones in the wilderness into 
 bread, to supply the cravings of his hunger, 
 to which he was advised by the Tempter, 
 might have been construed, had he com- 
 plied, into a want of superiority over his 
 
135 
 
 appetites. The one was intended as an 
 evidence of his mission, — for this way all his 
 miracles pointed ; the other would have 
 betrayed a distrust in Providence. It be- 
 came him, therefore, our great Pattern in 
 faith and patience, as well as in self- 
 command, to avoid even the appearance of 
 distrusting the care of Heaven ; or of im- 
 patience under suffering, by recurring to 
 means to which he knew that others, his 
 followers in after ages, who would be called 
 to imitate him, could not recur. It ought 
 therefore to be admitted as a third re- 
 straint on self-indulgence, included under 
 the name of Christian temperance, when 
 such indulgence of one's-self may prove the 
 occasion of some ill consequences, or the 
 prevention of some good. 
 
 In the variety of incidents, to which 
 human life in every station is exposed, it 
 often happens, that even the most innocent 
 gratifications may interfere with favourable 
 opportunities of doing good, which, if lost,. 
 
136 
 
 are never afterwards to be recovered. 
 These, doubtless, ought never to be let 
 pass unimproved, when they occur. What 
 admirable lessons, in this way, does the 
 example of our Lord present us with ! 
 His conduct bore witness more strongly 
 than his words, that '' it was as his meat," 
 and more than his meat, " to do the will 
 *'ofHim who sent him, and to finish his 
 " work." When did he, for the sake of any 
 ease, refreshment, or convenience to himr 
 ^elf, let slip an occasion of conferring be- 
 nefits on others ? When did ever hunger, 
 or thirst, or cold, or fatigue, set bounds to 
 the exercise of his piety, his humanity, his 
 beneficence ? He went about continually 
 doing good, instructing the ignorant, re- 
 claiming the profligate, exposing the absurd 
 pretensions of supeistition, vindicating the 
 character of genuine religion, pulling off 
 the mask from hypocrisy, and relieving 
 distress. His uncommon assiduity in these 
 exercises appears, not only from the whole 
 
137 
 
 tenour of his history, but also from the iin- 
 favouiable construction which some of his 
 relations seemed disposed to put on his 
 extraordinary ardoui and application. As 
 another eminent example of the like noble 
 victory over the inferior appetites, I might 
 also quote his zealous follower, and servant, 
 Paul. Such, I conceive, is the true law of 
 Christian temperance, — a law in every re- 
 spect rational and manly. It gives no 
 permission to an indulgence which is pre- 
 judicial to another, hurtful to ourselves, and 
 Avhich may prove, though indirectly, the 
 source of bad consequences to any, or de- 
 prive us of an opportunity, not afterwards 
 to be recalled, of doing good. Other limits it 
 knows none. But I am aware, that, whilst 
 some will be of opinion that the restrictions 
 I have mentioned are both too numerous 
 and too rigid, others, on the contrary, will 
 think that they are far from being either 
 numerous or rigid enough. Truth is most 
 
138 
 
 commonly to be found in the middle 
 between the two extremes. > 
 
 (l) For the Authors sentiments on the extreme of too 
 numerous and too rigid resU"iciions on this ariicle, see the 
 Essay on Chnstiin lemperance and Self-Penial, subjoined to 
 his LectUit'S on iicclesiastical History, lately published. 
 
139 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 VICES, OR EVILS, TO WHICH THE OCCUPATION OF A 
 
 MINISTER EXPOSES HIM MR. HUMES ACCOUNT OP 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE PASTORAL OFFICE ; A CARICA- 
 TURE, BUT MAY SUGGEST SOME PROFITABLE INSTRUC- 
 TION TO PASTORS TEMPTATION TO HYPOCRISY TO 
 
 BE OVERCOME, BY BEING WHAT THE HYPOCRITE 
 
 WANTS ONLY TO BE THOUGHT A BAD MAN WILL 
 
 FIND NO COMFORT IN THE BUSINESS OF A PASTOR. 
 
 When I entered on the subject of the 
 character to be supported, and the conduct 
 to be pursued, by the mmister of rehgion, 
 I proposed to digest what I had to offer, 
 in the following method. I was to con- 
 sider, first, what those vices are, which, in 
 a more especial manner, tend to obstruct 
 the minister's success, by exposing him to 
 universal contempt ; secondly, what those 
 
140 
 
 virtues are, of which the business of a 
 Christian pastor requires especially the 
 cultivation and exertion ; thirdly, what 
 those evils are, to which his very occupation 
 itself may be said in some respect to expose 
 him. The first and second of these I have 
 discussed with all the brevity which the 
 importance of the subject would admit. 
 On the first I observed, that the things, 
 which, in a more especial manner, brought 
 scandal and reproach on the ministerial cha- 
 racter, were the following ; a flagrant viola- 
 tion of the known laws of sobriety and chas- 
 tity ; impiety, or an open want of reverence 
 of God, and respect to his worship and ordi- 
 nances ; an unguarded levity and folly in con- 
 versation, dress, or behaviour ; and such a 
 contempt of the sentiments of the people, as 
 leads one wantonly to shock their prejudices 
 in things indifferent. On the second I ob- 
 served, that, however certain it is that the 
 business of a Christian pastor powerfully 
 fxcites to the cultivation of every virtue, 
 
141 
 
 yet, as it was not my intention, in these 
 Lectures, to give a complete system of 
 Christian ethics, it would not be necessary 
 here to enter on the consideration of those 
 internal dispositions and graces that are 
 fundamental to all religion. I proposed, 
 therefore, only to consider certain qualities 
 of temper and disposition, that more par- 
 ticularly regard our external behaviour, 
 and our manner of treating those persons 
 with whom we are concerned, — a matter 
 of the greatest consequence to our success. 
 These I have considered under the following 
 articles ; ?neek?iess, or a supe»''ority over the 
 irascible affections — anger, pride, and im- 
 patience ; fortitude, or that firmness of 
 mind in the discharge of duty, which makes 
 a man superior alike to the fear of danger 
 and to the desire of favour ; temperance^ or 
 a superiority over the concupiscible affec- 
 tions, that is, over bodily appetite and the 
 desire of wealth. 
 
 I am now come to the third and last 
 
142 
 
 thing proposed, which is, to consider what 
 those vices or evils are, to which the very 
 occupation of a minister of religion may 
 be said in some respect to expose him. 
 There is no profession or occupation in Hfe, 
 but as it has its own advantages, it has also 
 its disadvantages : as, in some instances, it 
 may give peculiar helps and motives to 
 some virtues, so it may, in other instances, 
 expose to peculiar temptations to some 
 vices. That any business or occupation 
 affords some particular temptations to evil, 
 is no reflection on that business, much 
 less an argument of its unlawfuhiess or 
 inutility. Magistracy, with the power 
 wherewith it is accompanied, gives, on 
 some occasions, but too strong a temptation 
 to oppression, and to the wresting of 
 public justice, for the sake of gratifying 
 private favour or private malice : yet 
 magistracy is not only useful, but necessary 
 for maintaining peace and order in society. 
 The different ranks in the community are 
 
143 
 
 in a manner essential, not only to the wel- 
 fare, but to the subsistence, of the body 
 politic: yet the superiority in power and 
 property, which is commonly aiteiidant on 
 the upper ranks, frequently betrays the pos- 
 sessor into insolence and violence ; and the 
 dependence and indigence in the lower 
 ranks is, as often, the source of the ba^^est 
 artifices, of lying, and of theft. This pre- 
 sent state of things, in whatever shape we 
 propose to live in it, is, and will be, a state 
 of probation ; and by no art, no choice, 
 can we avoid a share i\\ this probation. 
 By one particular election, in respect of 
 business, we may escape the temptations 
 that are common in another ; but then, it 
 is a thousand to one, we expose ourselves 
 to some, from which we should have been 
 exempted in the other. There is only 
 then, at most, a choice left us in regard 
 to the temptations, whether we shall en- 
 counter those of one kind, or those of ano- 
 ther. And, in every situation, it is incum- 
 
144 
 
 bent on all, and will be the study of those 
 who desire to acquit themselves honour- 
 ably in the part assigned them, to study to 
 improve the advantages which their situ- 
 ation gives them, and to be doubly guarded 
 against the temptations which it brings. 
 I own, however, that though all are ex- 
 posed to some, there is not a perfect equa- 
 lity, in this respect, in the different profes- 
 sions or businesses. Perhaps it will appear, 
 on inquiry, that the occupation of a mi- 
 nister of religion exposes its possessor to as 
 few as any other occupation. Will it be 
 pretended, that it furnishes us with any 
 additional motives or temptations to in- 
 temperance, to drunkenness, or to breaches 
 of the law of chastity ? No, surely. Does 
 it prompt to levity and folly in our conver- 
 sation and behaviour? Nor that neither. 
 Does it excite us to a supercilious neglect 
 of the sentiments and opinions of others, 
 to arrogance in our behaviour towards 
 them, and an indifference as to their judg- 
 
145 
 
 ment of us ? It will not be suspected of this 
 effect. Does it stimulate to an impious 
 behaviour, such as may breed an irre^ 
 verence towards God, and neglect of reli- 
 gion? — Quite the reverse. In all these it 
 will be acquitted, not only by every un- 
 biassed judge, but even by every impartial 
 enemy. If any, in the station of Christian 
 pastors, are to be found stained with any 
 of these vices, it will be allowed, on all 
 hands, that so far from being prompted to 
 such a criminal conduct by the nature and 
 spirit of their station, they, on the con- 
 trary, act in open defiance of that spirit, 
 and in violation of the most manifest and 
 sacred obligations which the ministerial 
 character lays them under. Such, there- 
 fore, in the place and office of Christian 
 pastors, ought to be considered rather as 
 monsters, than as the natural productions 
 of the soil. 
 
 But, it will be said, the danger lies in 
 the opposite e^ttreme. The temptation 
 
146 
 
 is so strong to secure the character of pious, 
 and serious, and temperate, and atten- 
 tive to the spiritual concerns of the people, 
 that it may prove a strong inducement to 
 affect this character where it is not, or at 
 \edLst to a degree beyond what it really is ; 
 and thus it presents those of this function 
 with strong temptations to the detestable 
 sin of hypocrisy. In this manner does 
 one ingenious Writer, not very friendly to 
 the office and character, argue on this sub- 
 ject. ** Though all mankind have a strong 
 ** propensity to religion, at certain times, 
 ■' and in certain dispositions, yet there 
 ** are few, or none, who have it to that 
 *' degree, and with that constancy, which 
 • ' is requisite to support the character of 
 '* this profession. It must therefore hap- 
 •* pen, that clergymen, being drawn from 
 *' the common mass of mankind, as people 
 " are to other employments, by the views 
 " of profit, the greatest part, though not 
 '* Atheists or Freethinkers, will find it 
 
147 
 
 " necessary, on particular occasions, to feign 
 *' more devotion than they are at that 
 *' time possessed of, and to maintain the 
 " appearance of fervour and seriousness, 
 ." even when jaded with the exercises of 
 " their rehgion, or when they have their 
 " minds engaged in the common occupa- 
 " tions of hfe. They must not, hke the 
 " rest of the world, give scope to their 
 '* natural movements and sentiments; they 
 " must set a guard over their looks, and 
 '* words, and actions ; and, in order to sup- 
 *' port the veneration paid them by the 
 " ignorant vulgar, they must not only 
 '' keep a remarkable reserve, but must 
 '' promote the spirit of superstition by a 
 *' continued grimace and hypocrisy. This 
 ** dissimulation often destroys the can- 
 '' dour and integrity of their tempers, 
 " and makes an irreparable breach in their 
 " charactera."— This is one part of the 
 charge against our profession, drawn in 
 •very strong colours, and is really what 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 Italian painters call a Caricatura. It has 
 some foundation in truth, but every fea- 
 ture is exaggerated, and the colours are 
 overcharged. An artist in this way will, 
 Iiowever, have the address to make a very 
 ugly picture bear a striking resemblance to 
 a very beautiful face. It is a judicious 
 advice that was given by a late worthy 
 Divine, that, in order to arrive at self-know- 
 ledge and self-correction, we ought to con- 
 sider, impartially, what part of our cha- 
 racter an enemy would most readily lay 
 hold of, in order to traduce us ; for, though 
 the representations of malice or resentment 
 might be very unjust, there is a presump- 
 tion, that one so disposed would lay hold 
 of what is really most exceptionable, and 
 gives the fairest handle for obloquy. The 
 same observation may very properly be 
 extended to professional characters ; for 
 even whole classes or professions of men 
 will, no doubt, have their enemies as well 
 as individuals ; and few classes have more 
 
149 
 
 or keener enemies than the ministers of 
 rehgion. It is not my business, in these 
 Lectures, to vindicate the ministerial cha- 
 racter in general from the aspersions that 
 have been thrown upon it. This, by the 
 way, is the more unnecessary, that the 
 reflections thrown out by the Writer lately 
 quoted, have, in that light, been considered 
 already, to very good purpose, by another'. 
 The only use that I intend to make here 
 of these and the like reproaches is, to con- 
 sider how we may derive some profitable 
 instruction and advantage to ourselves 
 from the attempts that may be made to 
 lessen us in the esteem of the world. 
 We are sure of one thing, that no general 
 reflections of this kind can be of any mate- 
 rial disservice to us, if those, who read 
 
 (l) The Author here refers to a Sermon by his learned 
 colleague. Dr. Gerard, entitled " The Influence of the Pastoral 
 Office on the Character," preached before the Synod of Aber- 
 deen in 1760, and published at the time ; and afterwards 
 reprinted in a Collection of Sermons by the same Author, in 
 two volumes. 
 
150 
 
 them, cannot find that they are supported 
 by what they themselves have actually 
 experienced of the order so characterized. 
 Without this, those fine-spun and abstract 
 reasonings from the tendency of the office 
 will go for nothing. But, to be impartial, 
 is there not some foundaHon for the charge ? 
 Is not reputation here of so great conse- 
 quence, that it may tempt a bad man in 
 this office to screen himself under a disguise, 
 and play the hypocrite? And rnay it not 
 induce a man, who is not really bad or 
 worthless, to affect, on some occasions, 
 more fervour and devotion than he is 
 conscious of at the time ? We cannot say 
 with truth, that it may not. But let it be 
 observed, that if there were not in the 
 ministerial character the strongest obliga- 
 tions, and the strongest motives, to be vir- 
 tuous and pious, there could not be in it 
 any temptation to assume the appear- 
 ances of virtue and piety, where the reality 
 is wanting. The former ought to be 
 
151 
 
 regarded as the primary tendency of the 
 pastoral function ; the latter, but as the 
 secondary, at most. However, as no 
 station, not even the most sacred, will 
 secure to its possessors such invaluable 
 attainments as virtue and religion, it can- 
 not be doubted, that where vice and irre- 
 ligion are most remarkably disgraceful, 
 there they will most carefully be cloaked. 
 Hence the temptation to hypocrisy, which, 
 considering the source whence it arises, 
 namely, the necessity of what appears holy 
 and just, more truly reflects honour on 
 the profession, than disgrace. It is because 
 virtue there seems indispensable, that such 
 a phantom, or semblance of it, is adopted, 
 where it hap]:}ens to be wanting, to supply 
 its place. 
 
 But, in order to prevent all occasion or 
 danger of this evil in the ministers of reli- 
 gion, I woxild advise them only, to comply 
 with the first motion naturally suggested by 
 the profession. Be good and pious, and 
 
152 
 
 then to appear good and pious will follow 
 of course; the way will be smooth and 
 easy ; you will have only to pursue the 
 track to which pious and virtuous dispo- 
 sitions naturally lead : whereas, if you 
 satisfy yourself with the appearance, you 
 enter upon a most difficult task ; your 
 thoughts and your words, your inclinations 
 and your actions, will ever be at variance, — 
 a way of life which, even to the most pro- 
 fligate dispositions, must be unpleasant : 
 it is, in fact, to be under perpetual con- 
 straint, and never to taste genuine li- 
 berty, either of speech or of behaviour. 
 But this is not only the most unpleasant 
 choice, but the most unprofitable, both for 
 the present life and for the future. As to 
 its unprofitableness for a future life, it is too 
 obvious, to those who believe in a future 
 life, to need an illustration; but even as to 
 the present, to support with uniformity, 
 for a tract of time, a feigned character, is 
 not so easy a task as some may fondly 
 
153 
 
 imagine : I may safely pronounce it im- 
 possible, so as to escape discovery from 
 the more judicious ; and it very rarely 
 escapes being suspected, even by those of an 
 inferior class. What the Wise Man has 
 said of lying, is justly applicable to dissi- 
 mulation of every kind : " The lip of truth 
 '' shall be established for ever; but the 
 *' lying tongue is but for a moment." De- 
 ceit and falsehood can only serve a present 
 turn, it will sooner or later infallibly be 
 detected ; whereas truth stands the test of 
 time, and gathers strength by its duration. 
 But does not religion require of all its 
 votaries a constant watchfulness and guard 
 over themselves, that they may not be se- 
 duced into vice, which is the path of the 
 destroyer? It is true, indeed, we are to keep 
 a watch over the door of our lips, that we 
 err not with our tongue : in regard to our 
 thoughts and actions, we are in like manner 
 required to be attentive and circumspect. 
 But the case here is totally different. A 
 
154 
 
 good man exercises this vigilance over him- 
 self of choice : he hates vice, and, by con- 
 sequence, he is anxious that he may not be 
 drawn into its snares ; he loves virtue, and 
 therefore desires, above all things, to be con- 
 firmed in the possession and practice of it. 
 It is not so with the hypocrite and dis- 
 sembler: he also is watchful over himself; 
 but, then, it is not that he may be what he 
 approves and admires, what of all things 
 he would choose to be, and would consider 
 as the most valuable attainment ; — far from 
 it: it is, solely, that he may not betray 
 what he is ; that he may escape discovery. 
 This is not a natural object, even to the 
 wicked : on the contrary, it is one of the 
 greatest violences done to Nature. To be 
 always playing a part, to be the stage- 
 actor (for such is the emphatic import of 
 the word hypocrite) through the whole of 
 life, in every company, and on every occa- 
 sion, continually to speak a language 
 foreign to the heart, and to be in cgntinual 
 
155 
 
 dread of detection, is one of the most in- 
 eligible situations that it is possible for us 
 to figure to ourselves. That it is neither 
 natural nor easy, even to bad characters, is 
 manifest from this, that when all accidental 
 motives, from profession, fear, and interest, 
 are removed, they choose much rather to 
 throw off the mask, and impudently to 
 avow their vices. And, indeed, when this 
 is properly considered, there arises, out of 
 this very evil or corruption, a strong motive 
 to the minister of religion to study, above 
 all things, to be what he would seem to 
 be — upright and unblameable . I may there- 
 fore justly address myself to pastors, and 
 to all who have this charge in view, in some 
 such terms as the following : — Whatever 
 flattering things may be said, to those of 
 other professions, in favour of a dissolute 
 life, and however indulgent the world are 
 to their vices and follies, the Christian 
 pastor, "depend upon it, can entertain no 
 reasonable hope, either of peace in himself, 
 
156 
 
 or respect from men, (not to mention the 
 favour of Heaven,) but in the path of virtue 
 and rehgion. To such I may well say. 
 What other option can ye make ? Would 
 ye impudently pursue the paths of vice, 
 like the profligates of the age? Expect 
 not, if ye do, the same favourable allow- 
 ances ; by all mankind, even by the vicious, 
 ye will infallibly be hated and despised. 
 Will ye hide your inward naughtiness by a 
 false pretence of religion, and exhibit a 
 counterfeit to the world ? You will not in 
 that way long escape the just abhorrence 
 of the wise and good. Nothing is so diffi- 
 cult as to maintain, uniformly, a borrowed 
 character. Nature may long, but will not 
 always be suppressed: she will burst forth 
 at an unguarded hour, to your confusion 
 and disappointment. But should ye escape 
 being detected, and therefore being de- 
 spised by the world, would a man of any 
 consideration choose continually to act a 
 part in which he must unavoidably despise 
 
157 
 
 himself. There is no alternative, that 
 merits a moment's balancing or doubt. 
 The strait way has, no doubt, its diffi- 
 culties, especially at first entering on it ; 
 but these daily lessen ; the road becomes 
 sensibly smoother as ye advance ; and ye 
 will find it inexpressibly comfortable when 
 once your progress in it is become habi- 
 tual : it willfully verify your great Master's 
 declaration; — '' His commandments" will 
 prove themselves, upon the trial, " not 
 ** to be grievous ; — his yoke to be easy, and 
 ** his burthen light." The very odiousness 
 of that part of the alternative, hypocrisy, 
 depraved as the world is, adds unspeakable 
 weight to all the motives, which this pro- 
 fession presents us with, to virtue and re- 
 ligion. 
 
 But if there be any of you, on whom 
 those motives have no influence — (Observe, 
 Gentlemen, I only speak hypo.thetically, for 
 I am far from thinking so uncharitably of 
 any of my auditors,) — I would say to such. 
 
158 
 
 ' Be wise in time, and have nothing to do with 
 a business to which your disposition is so 
 ill adapted.' I will not argue with you on 
 spiritual or moral considerations, which have 
 no weight with those of this character ; but 
 I urge you from motives merely secular. 
 You may, indeed, make a living by this 
 profession, but, depend upon it, you will find 
 no comfort in it. A state of continual un- 
 interrupted constraint is the most painful 
 condition imaginable ; — your words and 
 thoughts ever at variance ; yourselves af- 
 fecting a warmth and earnestness which ye 
 do not feel ; employed in exercises which ye 
 nauseate ; inculcating principles which ye 
 disbelieve, or at least have no settled con- 
 viction of ; enforcing on others a temper 
 and practice for which ye have no relish ; — 
 thus hampered on every side, and walking 
 incessantly in trammels. Do but consider, 
 when, in any of the ordinary businesses of 
 life, a person has made a wrong choice, or 
 perhaps his friends have made it for him. 
 
159 
 
 and he is, by a concurrence of circum- 
 stances, forced into an employment which 
 he dishkes, how Uttle satisfaction does he 
 find in it ? Do not the duties of his station 
 prove, in effect, a perpetual penance to him ? 
 Yet the case is infinitely worse here. 
 Though such a one, as I just now sup- 
 posed, is compelled to do what is disagree- 
 able to him, and what he therefore looks on 
 as drudgery, he is not laid under a necessity 
 of dissembling ; and it infers no dishonour 
 (though it may imply a degree of impru- 
 dence) to acknowledge that he has been un- 
 fortunate in his choice. The case is far 
 otherwise with the pastor who is destitute 
 of the principles of his office, who must 
 appear desirous to persuade others to the 
 love of God and goodness which he never 
 felt, and to kindle in their breasts a zeal for 
 religion and mankind, of which his own is 
 perfectly insensible ; — I might rather say, to 
 which he is a secret foe : for wherever re- 
 ligion is concerned, there is no neutrality.^ 
 
160 
 
 '^^ He that is not for us, is against us ; and 
 " he that is not against us, is on our side." 
 I shall conclude with saying to such 
 (and it needs not one grain of the prophe- 
 tic spirit to make the discovery), that if ye 
 will persist in making so preposterous a 
 choice, ye will infallibly repent of it, when to 
 change is not so easy, or perhaps is out of 
 your power. Hitherto, Gentlemen, I have 
 gone on the supposition of the very worst, 
 that a bad man, influenced by worldly mo- 
 tives, is induced to engage in so incongruous 
 a business, as is that of teaching others 
 what he hath not yet been taught himself 
 — to love God, and to serve him. 
 
 But it may be said, though a pious man 
 and a hypocrite are two characters that are 
 really incompatible, (as much as an honest 
 man, and a villain who finds his account in 
 endeavouring to pass upon the world for 
 honest,) yet as absolute perfection is not 
 the attainment of mortality, may not a 
 dash of the vice of hypocrisy enter into » 
 
161 
 
 fciiaracter which in the main is good ? and 
 may not such a one find it necessary, on 
 particular occasions, to feign more devotion 
 than he is at that time possessed of, and to 
 maintain the appearance of fervour and 
 seriousness, when tired with the exercises of 
 rehgion ? Does not even the propriety of 
 maintaining in the minds of the people a 
 strong veneration for the sac redness of tlie 
 character, afford some temptation to them 
 to act this part? — That, to a certain degree, 
 it may at times have an undue influence 
 this way, even on a man wiio, upon the 
 whole, is justly denominated pious and sin- 
 cere, I will not take upon me to deny : 
 but that such a man should promote what 
 he knows to be the spirit of superstition, 
 by a continued grimace and hypocrisy, (as 
 the author, from whom I took this excep- 
 tion, expresses it,) I know is impossible and 
 contradictory. Light and daikness are not 
 more opposite, than is the spirit of the 
 Gospel (which prompts to the love of God 
 
 TV! 
 
162 
 
 and love of mankind, to the virtues of 
 meekness, temperance, fortitude, humanity, 
 equity, and rational piety) from the spirit 
 of superstition, which instigates only to a 
 blind tenaciousness of absurdities in theory, 
 and the most contemptible mummeries in 
 practice, as a full compensation for every 
 defect in virtue, and an atonement for every 
 vice. 
 
 But I still admit, that a good man and 
 faithful servant of Jesus, who has a genuine 
 zeal for the honour of God, may yet have 
 more ianxiety than he ought to have, and 
 more than the purity of the Christian in- 
 stitution admits, about the applause of men : 
 this, however, is undoubtedly a fault ; and, 
 if indulged, it may grow to an excess that 
 is not only injurious to the spiritual state 
 of the individual guilty of it, but has also 
 some tendency to promote, among the peo- 
 ple, superstitious or enthusiastical notions 
 in regard to religion. That a remarkable 
 frequency, or being too long occupied at 
 
163 
 
 one time, in the public exercises of devo- 
 tion, will present the minister with some 
 temptation to employ a little artifice in 
 concealing his fatigue, is a matter not to be 
 questioned : but there can be no doubt 
 that every attentive follower of Christ will 
 carefull}^ guard against an evil which his 
 Master has so especially warned him to 
 avoid. If, like the Pharisees, we do all our 
 works that we may be seen of men, and 
 have praise of them, we know that, like 
 the Pharisees, we shall have no reward from 
 our Father, who is in heaven. If we re- 
 semble them in the motives by which we 
 are influenced to labour in this service, we 
 shall resemble them, also, in the fruits that 
 our labour will yield us. 
 
 But how, it may be asked, is this evil 
 best to be guarded against? This is a 
 question of real importance, and will there- 
 fore deserve our serious attention. Let it 
 be remarked then, that though, hi regard. 
 to the inward temper and disposition which 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 religion requires, we ought to be at all 
 times possessed of them, — -with regard to 
 the outward duties of the Christian life, 
 like every other action that concerns our 
 present state or support, they have all their 
 proper times and seasons : and it is possible 
 here, even in the most important and 
 solemn duties, to be faulty in excess as well 
 as in defect. I acknowledge, at the same 
 time, that the latter fault is incomparably 
 more frequent than the other : but, as the 
 duties of the Christian life are both many 
 and various, the nature of the thing im- 
 plies, that we are not to be so much occu- 
 pied in the practice of any one duty as to 
 exclude the opportunities of practising 
 the rest. The similitude employed by 
 the Apostle, in relation to the different 
 spiritual gifts that abounded in the Pri- 
 mitive Church, may with equal propriety 
 be applied to the different duties, public 
 and private, that belong to the Christian 
 life: — '* If the whole body were an eye. 
 
165 
 
 " where were the hearing ; and if tlie whole 
 *' were hearing, where were the smeUing ? 
 *' And if they were all one member, where 
 "were the body?" It is manifest, there- 
 fore, that to any one duty, even the most 
 sacred and the most important, too much 
 time may be allotted at once, or the recur- 
 rence may be too frequent ; though, in this 
 last respect, the danger is not so great as 
 in the first. For let it be further observed, 
 that by any long-continued and strong ex- 
 ertion the powers both of body and mind 
 are exhausted, and a certain tiresomeness 
 and languor are the inevitable consequences. 
 The mind is, to the full, as susceptible of 
 fatigue as the body ; and it also happens, 
 sometimes, that when '^ the spirit is will- 
 ing, the flesh is weak." Would ye then 
 avoid being laid under any temptation of 
 affecting a fervour that ye do not feel, 
 avoid unnecessarily protracting the public 
 offices of religion. It is much more eligi-, ' 
 ble, because productive of better ronse- 
 
166 
 
 quences, both to speaker and hearer, that 
 the returns to them should be frequent, 
 than that the time spent in continuance 
 should be long. This remark, though it 
 does not so much affect the ordinary offices 
 of public worship, — wherein, if one does not 
 much exceed the usual time, it may be 
 hoped that neither the spirits of the 
 speaker nor the patience of the hearer 
 will be put to any undue stretch, — ought to 
 be particularly attended to in those more 
 solemn services of our religion which re- 
 quire, of necessity, a much longer time : 
 such, for example, is the administration of 
 the Lord's Supper, according to the man- 
 ner in wdiich it is celebrated with us. As, 
 however, in our church, more, in regard to 
 the time to be employed, depends upon the 
 speaker than perhaps in any other church, 
 care should be taken, that neither his own 
 abilities nor the capacity of the hearers, 
 both for attending to what is spoken, and 
 for retaining it, be put to the stretch : it is 
 
167 
 
 much safer here to leave off sooner than is 
 necessary, than it is to continue longer. 
 Let it be observed, that we have a com- 
 mand for being brief, but none for con- 
 tinuing loncj in the exercises of devotion. 
 '' Be not rash with thy mouth," says Solo- 
 mon, " and let not thine heart be hasty 
 " to utter any thing before God: for God 
 " is in heaven, and thou upon earth ; there- 
 *' fore let thy Avords be few." And a 
 wiser than Solomon has given it as a badge 
 of the hypocrites and the heathen, that 
 " they make long prayers," and act in 
 such a manner as though they tliought the}'^ 
 would be heard for their much speaking. 
 But I shall have occasion, in the next Dis- 
 course on this subject, to consider again this 
 article, under the head of * Popularity ;' and 
 shall therefore desist at present, lest I 
 should be thought to transgress in the way 
 I am condemning. 
 
168 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 DANGER TO PASTORS IN OUR CHURCH, FROM AN EXCES- 
 SIVE DESIRE OF POPULAR APPLAUSE TO PLEASE 
 
 MEN OXLY A MEANS TO PROMOTE THE GREAT END, 
 
 THEIR GOOD INSTRUCTIONS, IN THE SUREST AND 
 
 SHORTEST WAY, TO BECOME A VERY GREAT MAN, A 
 LEADER AND ORACLE AMONG THE PEOPLE, AND 
 TO SECURE A FOLLOWING^ WHITHERSOEVER THE 
 PREACHER GOES. 
 
 1 HAVE already considered, in the mini- 
 sterial character, the temptation there may 
 be to hypocrisy ; and have pointed out the 
 only method of attaining — and the strong 
 obligations, in point of interest as well as 
 duty, we lie under to attain — a superiority 
 to that temptation, by being what the hy- 
 pocrite wants only to be thought — virtuous 
 and good. Though no vice be more justly 
 
169 
 
 detestable to an ingenuous mind than hy- 
 pocrisy, we may say with truth, that to 
 affirm of any profession that it gives a bad 
 man strong temptations to play the hypo- 
 crite, is perhaps, in a moral view, the high- 
 est commendation we can give of that 
 business or profession. To a superficial 
 observer this may appear a paradox ; but all 
 the improbability will, on a little attention, 
 entirely vanish. If the profession or office 
 did not lay him, who possesses it, under 
 strong obligations to virtue, hypocrisy 
 would never be thought necessary, as a 
 succedaneum, to supply its place. On the 
 other hand, in proportion to the detesta- 
 tion with which vice, in any character, will 
 be contemplated, will be the solicitude to 
 recur to this cover for concealing it. It has 
 been observed, that in all sublunary things, 
 it invariably holds, that, good and evil are 
 so connected, and even sometimes inter- 
 mixed, that it is not possible to attain the' 
 one without being exposed to danger from. 
 
170 
 
 the other : one species of good is in 
 danger of being confounded with one species 
 of ill, another with another. Temperance 
 is good ; but monastic austerity and sour- 
 ness will often pass themselves on the un- 
 wary for that respectable virtue. Sociality 
 is good ; but how often do riot and de- 
 bauchery assume the name ! Need 1 say, 
 how frequently piety and hypocrisy, gene- 
 rosity and prodigality, a due regard to re- 
 putation and vain-glory, a proper attention 
 to interest and avarice, are confounded! 
 These virtues and vices are, as it were, bor- 
 derers together, and ever found in the con- 
 fines of one another ; and the great art of 
 life, the highest pitch of human prudence, 
 may be said to consist in steering our course 
 in such a manner as to enjoy, as much as 
 possible, the good, — and to avoid, as much 
 as possible, being entangled in the evil 
 which borders on it, and may, through in- 
 advertency, be so readily mistaken. I say, 
 as much as possible, because, in every in- 
 
171 
 
 stance, to attain the <^ood, and to escape the 
 evil, is more than falls to the lot of hu- 
 manity. Good and bad qualities, in their 
 highest degrees, are commonly distinguished 
 with ease; it is only in the inferior and 
 fainter shades, if I may so express myself, 
 that they are apt to be mistaken : for 
 though a perfect hypocrite may impose on 
 others, it is impossible he should impose 
 upon himself; he must be conscious that he 
 is not possessed of the character which he 
 wants the world to believe him possessed of. 
 There is no evil of which a man is more 
 certainly conscious, than he is of lying, and 
 of every species of deceit. When this, 
 therefore, is the foundation of his whole 
 character, he cannot be ignorant of it. But 
 I remarked, that there might be, even here, 
 some lower degrees, from which there 
 might be pious men who could not be con- 
 sidered as altogether exempt; and that 
 those degrees, though not so gross as to 
 brand the person with the execrable charge 
 
17S 
 
 of hypocrisy, yet must be owned to bear 
 some affinity to that justly hated vice. Let 
 such a disposition, then, only be denominated 
 ^ an excessive fondness for the applause of 
 the multitude,' or * popularity.* It is so 
 arduous a task to regulate properly all our 
 affections and desires, and to prescribe to 
 them the proper bounds to which they 
 may safely be permitted to rise, — nay, to 
 which sometimes it is even proper that 
 they should be raised, but beyond which 
 neither right reason nor the law of the 
 Gospel permits an indulgence, — I say, this 
 is so arduous a task, that it is no wonder so 
 many fail in the execution. To set bounds 
 to the passions and appetites, and to check 
 their rage and turbulence, does, I acknow- 
 ledge, require, and, if properl}^ sought, will 
 receive, the co-operation of Him, who said 
 to the mighty ocean, " Thus far shalt thou 
 " come, and no farther; and here shall thy 
 " proud waves be stayed.** 
 
 Now, in order that we may be qualified 
 
173 
 
 for making a proper estimate of popular 
 applause, and for judging, both of the 
 end, on account of which alone it ouizht 
 to be valued, and the means by which 
 alone it ought to be pursued, let the 
 following considerations be attended to. 
 In the first place, then, it is very plain 
 that the law of the Gospel does not 
 permit us to seek it as an ultimate end, 
 or court it merely for itself. There is no- 
 thing we are more expressly commanded, 
 than in every duty, which is properly of a 
 religious nature, to avoid. vanity and osten- 
 tation. This was the great rock on which 
 the Pharisees split, and made shipwreck of 
 religion and conscience. This our Lord hath 
 particularly exemplified, in fasting, prayer, 
 and almsgiving ; but the rule itself is ge- 
 neral, and manifestly extends to all those 
 duties of the Christian life, whose very 
 nature does not exclude the privacy com- 
 manded. The Apostle Paul, agreeably to 
 the true spirit of his Master's instructions,- 
 
174 
 
 says to the Galatians, '' Do I yet seek to 
 please men }" — " If I yet pleased men," 
 he adds ; if I made that my object ; 
 '' I should not be the servant of Christ." 
 On the other hand, it may be said, are we 
 notenjoined, by the same authority, to " let 
 '^ our light so shine before men, that others, 
 " seeing our good works, may glorify our 
 " Father, who is in heaven ? " Is it not 
 incumbent on paj^tors in particular to be 
 ensamples to the flock ? Was not this the 
 special study of the Apostles of our Lord ? 
 Does not the same Paul declare for himself 
 to the Corinthians, that " he pleased all 
 men in all things?" 1 Cor. x. 33. How 
 are we to reconcile such apparently opposite 
 doctrines and examples ? — Let us attend 
 a little. 
 
 In the first place, some duties are, in 
 their nature, more private : such, for ex- 
 ample, are the duties of secret devotion : 
 such are any particular pieces of self-denial, 
 fasting, or those which a penitent sense of 
 
175 
 
 former transgressions, or a prudent circum- 
 spection, may induce us to impose upon 
 ourselves : such, also, are what are called, for 
 distinction sake, private charities, which, 
 oftentimes, it would be inhumane, as well 
 as vain-glorious, to divulge. Yet even in 
 these the Pharisees could contrive to sra- 
 tify their vanity and pride ; and what 
 should have been purely the result of the 
 love of God, of contrition of mind, and of 
 humanity, were no other than so many 
 different kinds of bait, by which they 
 sought to catch the veneration and applause 
 of the multitude. Other duties are, in 
 their very nature, more public : such are 
 those of social worship ; a due regard to 
 the external institutions of religion ; in all 
 our dealings with mankind, a strict regard 
 to veracity and equity ; simplicity, purity, 
 and candour, in our conversation ;— -I may 
 add, the duties of hospitality, generosity, 
 and what may be called public charity, 
 or a disposition to promote, according ta 
 
our ability, every laudable and pious under- 
 taking. In most of these, there is no way 
 of concealing, but by not performing ; and 
 therefore, as the performance is a real duty, 
 the concealment can be none : the very 
 matter therefore of those apparently repug- 
 nant precepts is totally diiferent. Now 
 it is of the first kind of duties that our 
 Saviour's injunctions of secrecy, and to 
 avoid as much as possible the eye of men, 
 are solely to be understood. It is of the 
 second, which must be seen if they be 
 performed, that our Lord is to be under- 
 stood ; particularly, as commanding us to 
 render them instrumental in alluring others, 
 by our example, to the love and practice of 
 righteousness. I do not deny, that even 
 these last duties may be performed in an 
 unworthy and ostentatious manner, — a 
 manner that is justly reprehensible, and 
 contrary to tlie spirit of the commandment : 
 but it is manifest, that it is principally of 
 the other kind that our Lord is speaking. 
 
.177 
 
 It is the other kind, which, by the hypo- 
 critical Pharisee, was made the foundation 
 of his rehgious fame among the people : 
 it is the other kind, which is employed, 
 for the same purpose, by those who are 
 pharisaically affected at this day. They 
 will not indeed sound a trumpet before 
 them, when they give alms, but they will 
 take a hundred other methods to prevent 
 what they do in this way from passing 
 unobserved. They will not pray standing 
 in the corners of the streets ; but they 
 will take care, even at their private de- 
 votions in the closet, that, by the loudness 
 of their voices, the neighbourhood shall 
 know how they are employed. And in 
 regard to the notice they give by their faces, 
 of their private humiliations and fastings, 
 they do not seem to have improved one jot, 
 in this respect, on the ancient Pharisees. 
 
 But this is not the only distinction to 
 be made between the two cases. There is 
 not only a difference in the subject or 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 nature of the precepts, but there is als(y 
 a difference in the motives by which we 
 ought to be influenced, and which may be 
 called a difference in the form, as the other 
 is in the matter. The hypocrite desires 
 to be seen of men, that he himself may 
 have glory of men : the good man seeks 
 not here his own glory, but the glory of 
 God ; well knowing, that if his great 
 object be, to be seen of men, and to have 
 honour of men, he has no reward from his 
 Father, who is in heaven. Those works 
 of his, therefore, which must, from their 
 nature, come under the cognizance of his 
 fellow-creatures, be wishes may prove in- 
 strumental in advancing the honour of 
 his heavenly Father, by inspiring men with 
 a pious emulation. And this exactly ac- 
 cords with what the Apostle Paul declares 
 concerning himself in the passage lately 
 quoted : ** I please all men/' says he, " in 
 *' all things ; not seeking mine own 
 '' proit/* neither interest nor fame, " but 
 
179 
 
 " the profit of many, that they may be 
 ** saved/' The honour of God, and the 
 salvation of men, are ends perfectly co- 
 incident. 
 
 But it may be said, that, as to the end 
 for which one acts, — or, which amounts to 
 the same thing, as to the motives by which 
 he is influenced, — it is not easy to form a 
 judgment that is entirely to be depended 
 on. — True. — In regard to the conduct of 
 another, it is often difficult, sometimes 
 perhaps impossible, to form any judgment 
 that can be held infallible. The law of 
 Christian charity ought doubtless, in judg- 
 ing of the motives of other men, to incline 
 us, as much as possible, to the favourable 
 side. But in regard to our own conduct, 
 the case is by no means similar. As we 
 must be conscious of the motives by which 
 we ourselves are influenced, if we will take 
 the trouble to attend to them, it must 
 argue a scandalous ignorance of what it 
 most behoves us to be acquainted with — . 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 a shameful remissness in regard to that most 
 important article of our duty, self-knowledge 
 and self-government — if we impose upon 
 ourselves in a matter of such infinite con- 
 cern. We must remember that the same 
 authority, which expressly prohibits our 
 judging of the motives or principles of 
 others, as we would avoid incurring the 
 severest judgment, hath commanded us to 
 judge ourselves, as one of the most effec- 
 tual means of bringing us to escape being 
 condemned with the world. And surely, 
 however much they may be mistaken by 
 men, there is a real and an essential dif- 
 ference between acting from a love of 
 virtue, or the desire of doing good, and 
 acting from a thirst of popular applause, 
 a mere principle of vanity and ostentation. 
 But is there no difference in the effects, to 
 which motives so different in their nature 
 will incline the different persons influenced 
 by them? To this I answer, that though, 
 with regard to single actions, motives 
 
181 
 
 exceedingly diverse from each other will 
 influence different minds to the same ac- 
 tion, yet, if a whole course of conduct is 
 considered, that which results from the 
 pure and Christian motives of piety to 
 God, and charity to men, will be found, 
 upon comparison, widely different, in its 
 complexion and tenour, from that which 
 knows no nobler source than the love of 
 praise. An indigent person may doubtless 
 obtain equal relief from the alms which 
 the vanity of one has bestowed upon him, 
 as he does from that which the humanity 
 and charity of another have conferred ; but 
 it is not by individual acts that characters 
 are to be discriminated. The man, whose 
 view terminates in self, provided his great 
 object, applause, is attained, will not be 
 very scrupulous in regard to the means 
 or the quality of the action by which it 
 is attained. The case is otherwise with 
 the good man. 
 
 The rule given by the Apostle Paul 
 
18£ 
 
 (Rom. XV. 2.) will serve much to illustrate 
 the difference : " Let every one of us 
 " please his neighbour, for his good to 
 " edification.'* This, and this only, serves 
 as the rule and measure of that popularity, 
 which a Christian pastor ought to study, 
 and which the law of the Gospel strictly 
 enjoins. The motive, by which we ought 
 to be induced to please others, is not 
 self-love, but benevolence ; it is not to 
 attain their praise, but to promote their 
 good. And as their real good is the end, 
 the means will be their edification, by which, 
 in the largest acceptation of the word, is 
 meant every thing that has either a useful 
 or a moral tendency with regard to them, 
 whatever may conduce to their true inter- 
 est, temporal or spiritual. To please men, 
 is a necessary means of persuasion. The 
 Christian orator, therefore, who would per- 
 suade them to that which is good, will 
 be far from despising so important means. 
 But in this he differs from the vain man. 
 
183 
 
 that he seeks it only as the means to an 
 end — an end which is never entirely out of 
 his view : the other, on the contrary, seeks 
 it purely for its own sake, or rather for 
 the exaltation and superiority over others 
 that he Hatters himself he attains thereby. 
 When the good of others is the end, a man 
 will never be led to please, by gratifying 
 them in what would imply a violation of 
 duty, in what may tend to feed their vanity, 
 or perhaps their envy, their resentments, 
 or other sinful passions. In these, he will 
 oppose them with proper firmness and re- 
 solution. To please in such things, would 
 not be for the good of our neighbour, but 
 for his hurt; not to the edification, but to 
 the subversion of his soul. A man, intoxi- 
 cated with the fumes of popular applause, 
 and to whom this is become the principal 
 object, we find, by too frequent and fatal 
 experience, is not nice on this article, in 
 makinii distinctions. 
 
 I think it necessary to consider thi:^ 
 
184 
 
 matter more particularly, because I look 
 upon this rock of 'popularity* as one of 
 those on which persons of our profession, in 
 this country, are more in clanger of suffering 
 shipwreck, than perhaps on any other 
 whatsoever. It must be acknowledged, 
 that, from the nature of our ecclesiastical 
 constitution, we are laid under more 
 temptations to this, than in most other 
 churches. I know no other church in 
 which so great a part of the public offices 
 of religion consists in preaching, expound- 
 ing, or exhorting, as in our own ; I may 
 add, in which the minister has so much the 
 direction of the devotions of the people. 
 This, by necessary consequence, will make 
 it more an object to the people in this 
 country to obtain a pastor that in these 
 respects is adapted to their taste, than it 
 can be to those whose pastors have nei- 
 ther so much to do in teaching, nor have 
 so extensive a direction in public worship 
 and the different ordinances of religion. 
 
185 
 
 And though tlie power of the people be 
 not now so great as it was formerly, in re- 
 spect of the calhng of ministers and bestow- 
 ing of church hvings, it is still considerable 
 enough to induce the preacher, from a 
 motive of interest as well as vanity, to court 
 their favour and applause. Now, when 
 these become tlie leading motives, it will 
 be found impossible to restrain the dis- 
 position within its proper limits. It may 
 be further remarked, that an excess on one 
 hand, with all its evil consequences dis- 
 covered in some ministers, commonly 
 tends, in those who observe it, to produce 
 a disposition equally excessive on the other 
 hand. Accordingly, if we have some whose 
 very idol may be said to be popularity, we 
 have others who shew a very unjust con- 
 tempt, both of the favour and of the sen- 
 timents of the populace. Both are evi- 
 dently extremes, and both will ever be 
 carefully guarded against by those pastors- 
 who are judiciously solicitous that their 
 
186 
 
 ministry may be profitable to the people 
 of whom they have the charge. By the 
 first extreme, indeed, a man is often put 
 in a capacity of doing more mischief: by 
 the second, he almost totally disqualifies 
 himself for doing good. As, however, the 
 precise boundaries are difficult to distin- 
 guish, and as, sometimes, really good and 
 well-meaning men, accustomed, as doubt- 
 less they ought to be, to attend to the sen- 
 timents of the people, are gradually and 
 unwarily influenced to go greater lengths 
 than a well-informed conscience or just 
 notions of duty will vindicate, — and as this 
 evil, when in its highest degree, has been 
 productive of the very worst consequences 
 to the Christian community, and has 
 proved instrumental in infusing, not the 
 amiable spirit of the Gospel, but, on the 
 contrary, the rancorous poison of a most 
 malignant and opposite temper, — I shall 
 consider more particularly some of its 
 principal features. 
 
187 
 
 And for doing this with the greater faci- 
 lity, permit me, for a while, to assume a bor- 
 rowed character, and to personate a man 
 who is instructing his pupil, in the surest 
 and the shortest way, to become a very 
 great man, a perfect demagogue, a leader 
 and an oracle among the people, and to 
 secure to himself a following, whithersoever 
 he goes. It is a matter easily attainable ; 
 it requires, commonly, good lungs, and 
 strength of body, but a very moderate 
 share of understandinsf, and no learnin^y at 
 all; a small expense in point of virtue, if 
 what is held scandalous be avoided. Some 
 vices are requisite, but then they are of easy 
 acquisition : it is necessary only that a 
 man be selfish, proud, impudent, envious, 
 and uncharitable. I should then tell the 
 young candidate, that one of the first en- 
 gines that is commonly and successfully 
 set at work by those idolaters of popular 
 applause,' is, to be very liberal in praising^ 
 themselves. The multitude is everywhere 
 
188 
 
 credulous ; they rarely fail to be the dupes 
 of the most shameless pretenders ; they 
 seem to proceed on a very simple, and, one 
 would think, a very honest principle, that 
 nobody should know a person's character so 
 well as he does himself, and that therefore 
 what they have from his own mouth, on 
 this topic, they have from the best autho- 
 rity imaginable ; — hence the success of 
 quacks and mountebanks of every de- 
 nomination. Would ye then be blindly fol- 
 lowed and admired by the crowd, make 
 loud pretensions to an uncommon pihch 
 of purity and zeal f assure them, boldly, 
 that your indignation is moved, in the 
 highest degree, at the prevailing evils, 
 which others seem to be totally unaffected 
 with, and unconcerned about. They will 
 swallow with greediness every word you 
 utter ; and you will hardly find it possible 
 to stretch your asseverations and assurance 
 beyond the measure of their credulity. 
 Another common and powerful engine 
 
189 
 
 of the policy of these demagogues, is, dc" 
 fraction. Be sure, as much as possi- 
 ble, to depreciate other teachers. Tell 
 them of the danger they run in hearing 
 them. Every thing is judged of by 
 comparison ; be not therefore sparing, 
 rather be profuse, in bestowing the worst 
 and most opprobrious epithets the lan- 
 guage can furnish you with. This you will 
 find another excellent expedient of self- 
 praise. They will give you full credit 
 that you must be perfectly free from faults 
 which you exclaim against in others ; and 
 the lower you make other teachers sink in 
 the people's estimation, the higher, by 
 consequence, you raise yourself. 
 
 A third engine is, be sure to declaim 
 with the greatest vehemence against those 
 vices with which your congregation is 
 least chargeable. A preacher of this stamp 
 will be careful, in haranguing the multi- 
 tude, to inveigh with bitterness against 
 the sins of the great, the rich, and the 
 
190 
 
 powerful ; all the tropes and figures of his 
 eloquence will be exhausted in expatiating 
 on their chambering and wantonness, rioting 
 and luxury, levity and profane diversions. 
 — Allow me here, in order to prevent mis- 
 takes, to put in this caveat by the way, 
 that, by these observations, I would not 
 by any means be understood to signify 
 that a good and conscientious preacher will 
 ever be disposed to spare the vices of the 
 great, more than those of the small. Far 
 will be such a sentiment as this from every 
 one, who has a true sense of the dignity 
 and the importance of his ministry, as a 
 servant of Jesus. But it has more the 
 appearance of slander and backbiting, than 
 of the rebukes of Christian charity, to bring 
 heavy accusations (however true they may 
 be) against persons that are absent, and 
 for whose crimes those who had no share 
 ir; them will surely not be called to account. 
 Several circumstances concur to make this 
 device extremely popular to a common 
 
191 
 
 audience ; first, it gratifies the envy they 
 bear to their superiors ; secondly, it en- 
 hances, in their opinion, the courage and 
 undaunted spirit of the preacher, who dares 
 thus attack the highest ranks ; thirdly, it 
 is, in fact, a species of flattery given to the 
 hearers. The worse you make them think 
 of others, especially in any kind of excesses 
 of which their consciences cannot accuse 
 them, the better you make them think of 
 themselves. Accordingly, there is no kind 
 of exercise in which they will more cor- 
 dially join, than in confessing other people's 
 sins : none will be louder in lamenting 
 the crying abominations of balls, and as- 
 semblies, and concerts, and what not. The 
 circumstance I mentioned, of fomenting 
 their spiritual pride, gives a particular 
 gratification in the exercise ; for they have 
 not the judgment to reflect, that they can 
 claim no praise or merit to themselves for 
 not concurring in vices, which^ from their 
 circumstances, they had it not in their 
 
192 
 
 power to commit. But lest I should be 
 thought too severe on this shameful com- 
 mon device of securing the adulation, not 
 to say, the adoration, of the rabble, I 
 would desire you only impartially to con- 
 sider, whether you ever knew a popular 
 leader, who took the contrary method, 
 and chose particularly to insist, in his ser- 
 mons, on those vices of which the gene- 
 rality of his hearers had, by their practice, 
 most exposed themselves to be accused, — 
 did you know such a one declaim to his 
 people against the detestable crimes, but 
 too common among the lower ranks, of 
 theft and lying, of fraud and circumvention 
 in their dealings, of calumny and detraction 
 in their conversation ? Did you ever 
 hear him inveighing against their uncha- 
 ritableness in judging of their neighbour, 
 and their self-sufficiency in judging of 
 themselves ? Topics of this kind would be 
 branded, by many, with the odious name 
 of dry and heathen morality. But how it 
 
193 
 
 has come to pass that invectives against the 
 vices of the great come to be considered as 
 a more Evangelical topic, nothing would 
 be more difficult than to assi^jn a ijood 
 reason, though nothing can be more easy 
 than to discover tlite cause. 
 
 I might mention several other inferior arts, 
 which, though not so considerable as the 
 preceding, are not without effect. Among 
 the rest, I would say, be very loud, and very 
 long, in your religious exercises. With the 
 ignorant, in which class the bulk of tlie 
 people, I am afraid, everywhere, are to be 
 comprehended, there are two measures by 
 which they always estimate the value of 
 what is said. The meaning, is none of their 
 measures, for of that they are no judges ; 
 but the only two are, the quantity of what 
 the speaker says, and the noise he makes 
 in saying it. However much, in those 
 respects, you exceed others, the hearers 
 will put the whole surplus to the credit of 
 your greater zeal and greater abilities. 
 o 
 
194 
 
 Every preacher should endeavour to speak 
 so as to be heard, otherwise he speaks to 
 no purpose ; but if he wouki be idohzed 
 by the multitude, he must stun them with 
 his din. They are not nice in the powers 
 of distinguishing ; and therefore readily 
 conclude, that it must be strong sense, that 
 makes a strong impression on their organs. 
 I have now, I acknowledge, exhibited 
 the character and arts of popularity in the 
 extreme ; yet in such an extreme, as some 
 of us, I know, have had occasion to see 
 literally verified. Particularly, when a man 
 is brought to entertain the view of making 
 himself the head and founder of a new 
 party or faction, examine, and you will 
 find him invariably set in motion all those 
 detestable artifices, which I have made it 
 my business to display before you, — not 
 indeed for your imitation, — God forbid! 
 but for your warning. There are, however, 
 some other little disingenuous arts, not 
 indeed so gross as the former, which persons 
 
195 
 
 of too much vanity, though not, on the 
 whole, bad men, (not attending duly to 
 the hazard as well as meanness of such 
 conduct,) unwarily allow themselves to be 
 seduced into. As I purpose, however, to 
 have one other Discourse, at least, on the 
 subject of the Ministerial character, I shall 
 d^fer the further consideration of this till 
 afterwards. 
 
 02 
 
196 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 FRUITS OF THE TEACHING OF PULPIT CONTROVERTISTS 
 — OF THOSE, WHO INFLAME THE MINDS OF THE 
 PEOPLE WITH WHAT THEY TERM THE DEFECTIONS 
 
 OF THE CHURCH. ENGAGE NOT IN A COMPETITION 
 
 WITH OTHERS IN THE COMMON POPULAR ARTS, AS 
 IN THE CHOICE OF SUBJECTS OF DISCOURSE, OR, ON 
 CERTAIN OCCASIONS, AN UNSEASONABLE PROLIXITY. 
 —ZEAL ATTENDS CHIEFLY THE SPIRIT OF RELIGION 
 —BIGOTRY, TO AN EXTERNAL CONFORMITY AND 
 PROFESSION. 
 
 1 N my last Discourse, on the character of 
 a Christian pastor, I considered the tempta- 
 tions, which, in our ecclesiastical consti- 
 tution, the minister lies under, to cherish, 
 even to excess, a passion for popularity : 
 I pointed out to you some of the most dis- 
 tinguishing features of this inordinate af- 
 fection, and the detestable arts, by which 
 
197 
 
 those, who are in their whole conduct ac- 
 tuated by it, seek to gratify it. I own tlie 
 picture I gave was of that vice in the 
 extreme, in order that the Hneaments 
 might be the more strongly exhibited, and 
 the more easily recognised when occasion 
 should require. But do not think that 
 the drawing was from imagination — No ; it 
 was from real life. The instances, I believe, 
 are but few, that would exactly suit it ; — 
 Would God there were not any ! — but that 
 there have been, and still are, such instances, 
 consists, if I mistake not, with the know- 
 ledge of some of my hearers. Such of 
 you, as have had occasion to know already, 
 or shall have occasion to J\.now afterwards, 
 the methods employed by those, who think 
 fit to turn Separatists, and whose ambition 
 it is to exhibit themselves to the world as 
 the founders of a new church, or, as perhaps 
 they would term it, the restorers of the 
 old, will be satisfied that I have used no 
 exaggeration in the picture I have drawn : ' 
 
198 
 
 for, whatever be the pretended difference 
 in doctrine (which commonly Ues in a jargon 
 of words, alike unintelligible to themselves 
 and to the people), both from the church 
 from which they separate, and from one 
 another, you will find them, in regard to 
 the practical part, all cordially united in 
 employing the same artifices, for gaining 
 and securing their influence over the giddy 
 multitude. And I pray you take notice, 
 if you should ever have the occasion, whether 
 their artifices (in which they are very un- 
 animous, however much they differ in other 
 points) be not invariably those before 
 enumerated. Whenever you happen to 
 meet with one, who affects to head a sect 
 or faction, observe, I pray you, wdiether 
 it be not the great scope of his teaching, by 
 all the address and power of insinuation he 
 is master of, to exalt himself as a saint of 
 the first magnitude, to blacken all other 
 teachers to the utmost of his power, and 
 to declaim vehemently against the vices 
 
199 
 
 of those, who are not so happy as to 
 commit their understandings and their 
 consciences to his keeping and direction. 
 AViiether this be preaching themselves, or 
 Christ Jesus the Lord, let the serious and 
 impartial say. — I pass the smaller arts of 
 vociferation, prolixity, and a few others ; 
 in which, indeed, there will often be found 
 a greater variety, according to men's dif- 
 ferent bodily powers. These, it may be 
 truly said, are very common engines of 
 popularity ; but the three first are indis- 
 pensable to the man, to whom this is the 
 ultimate object and aim. 
 
 Indeed, though they are but few that go 
 all the lengths above mentioned, are there 
 not too many, who, in. some respects at 
 least, too much resemble them? I do be- 
 lieve, indeed, that some have fallen into an 
 improper and unjustifiable method in this 
 respect, from simplicity — from a mistaken 
 zeal, (I will not entirely free 'them from 
 vanity,) but without any deliberate bad 
 
200 
 
 intention. Such will sometimes go to undue 
 lengths, in throwing out insinuations against 
 the doctrine taught by some of their 
 brethren. I believe it is, because they 
 really think it dangerous that they act so. 
 But is it not possible, that the censurer, 
 and not the censured, may be in the mis- 
 take ? And have we any better title to dic^ 
 tate to our brother, than he has to dictate 
 to us ? Can either claim the prerogative of 
 infallibility ? And as he will think himself 
 entitled to equal freedom in censuring your 
 doctrine, what will be the end, when the 
 pulpit is made, as it has sometimes been 
 made, the scene of theological disputes? 
 Will this promote the interests of truth 
 and virtue, of pure and undefiled religion? 
 — Far from it. — Instead of enlightening 
 the understanding, it will but inflame 
 the passions, which never fail to cloud 
 the judgment, and incapacitate the mind 
 for the discovery of truth. We ought ever 
 to remember, *' that the end of the com- 
 
201 
 
 iiiandment," of that glorious dispensation 
 of which we are the ministers, '* is charity, 
 "' out of a pure heart, and of a good con- 
 '' science, and of faith unfeigned." What- 
 ever w^ounds charity, we are certain, strikes 
 at the vitals of religion. The cases are 
 very few, in which we can be as certain 
 that we advance the cause of religion by 
 engaging the people to attend to our dis- 
 putes. The Apostle Paul seems to have 
 thought, that it was one of the surest indi- 
 cations that charity was deserted, when we 
 suffered ourselves to be involved in them : 
 for observe, he immediately adds to the 
 preceding declaration, — " From which some 
 " having swerved, have turned aside into 
 " vain jangling." Is there any thing he 
 more warmly advises Timothy, who was 
 also a minister, to avoid, than engaging in 
 contentions of this nature; which he very 
 properly denominates '' profane and vain 
 '' babblings, and oppositions of science, 
 ''falsely so called.^" How justly does he. 
 
202 
 
 paint the common consequences, when a 
 people are unhappily habituated to this sort 
 of entertainment from their teacher, who 
 is ever " doting about questions and strifes 
 " of words ; whereof," says the Apostle, 
 " Cometh envy, strife, railings, evil sur- 
 *^ misings, perverse disputings, of men of 
 '' corrupt minds" ! 
 
 If ever your experience should lead you 
 to be acquainted with a people, who are 
 under the tuition of such a pulpit-contro- 
 vertist, I would entreat you to remark the 
 temper which it produces in them. Does 
 it Sweeten their disposition, and make them 
 more meek, more humble, more patient, 
 more candid, more charitable, than their 
 neighbours ? or, on the contrary, does it 
 make them more proud, more captious, 
 more calumnious, more suspicious, more 
 disputatious ? If, upon the most impartial 
 inquiry,-you shall find that this last is the 
 common effect, can ye have a stronger de- 
 monstration of the badness of the practice ? 
 
203 
 
 Are we not taught, by the great and only 
 infalhble teacher, Jesus Christ, to distinguish 
 teachers and teaching, as we distinguish 
 men, by their fruits ? Can th.at teaching 
 then be good, which produces such mahg- 
 nant, bitter fruits ? Nothing then can excuse 
 controversy in the pulpit, but necessity ; 
 and there is no necessity, unless the point 
 in question be manifestly an essential article 
 of Christianity, and unless there be an im- 
 mediate danger of perversion among the peo- 
 ple to whom you would communicate the 
 dispute. But, to say the truth, where this 
 polemic itch prevails, it will wait no neces- 
 sity. The people often do not so much as 
 know that the doctrine they have been 
 taught is controverted* by any body, till 
 they are officiously informed of it by their 
 minister ; and for the much greater part, 
 the subjects in debate are merely the glosses 
 and comments of fallible men, and not the 
 dictates of the unerring Spirit. As for you; 
 teach your people the truth, to the best of 
 
204 
 
 your knowledge ; enforce upon them their 
 duty, to the utmost of your power; urge all 
 the motives which the Gospel and right 
 reason supply you with ; but give no evil 
 surmisings with regard to others. If others 
 do not right, they have the same Master to 
 account to. It is not necessary, in any 
 event, that your people should know of it. 
 Nor can I conceive a motive for informing 
 them, unless to exalt yourself by the com-' 
 parison. But would not that be, in the 
 strictest sense, preaching yourselves ? Would 
 it not be acting from a spirit of pride and 
 envy.^ And how different this is from the 
 spirit of Christ, ye are not ignorant. May 
 I not therefore apply, in this case, the in- 
 junction which Paul gave to Timothy, — and 
 in him, to every minister of Jesus, particu- 
 larly to every one who might be employed 
 in training others to the ministry, — and 
 charge you, before the Lord, " that ye 
 " strive not about words, to no profit, but 
 '' to the subverting of the hearers } Study 
 
205 
 
 \o snew yourselves approved unto God, 
 " workmen that need not be ashamed, 
 '' rightly dividing the word of truth. But 
 *' shun profane and vain babbUngs ; for 
 " they will increase unto more ungodU- 
 "ness." 
 
 And if impartiahty obHges me to cen- 
 sure those who endeavour to raise them- 
 selves by depreciating their brethren, and 
 who cherish in their people a most vitiated 
 appetite for contention and debate, — what 
 shall be said of those (and such we have 
 known) who inflame the minds of the peo- 
 ple with what they term ' the defections of 
 the church ' whereof they are members, not 
 to say, children, and the tyranny of her 
 judicatories? I do not' deny, that there 
 might be crimes in our ecclesiastical su- 
 periors, which would fully justify this con- 
 duct ; such as idolatry, such as an express 
 renunciation of any of the fundamental 
 articles of Christianity, such as the imposi- 
 tion of terms of communion, which could 
 
206 
 
 not be accepted with a good conscience. 
 These were the grounds of our dissent from 
 Rome. But this conduct, hke resistance 
 in the State, is ever to be held as the last 
 resort of the most urgent necessity. All 
 government, all subordination, all order, is 
 overturned at once, if every man shall think 
 himself entitled to rail and clamour, when- 
 ever he disapproves, or is dissatisfied. Is 
 it not the uniform doctrine of Protestants, 
 that no church whatever is infallible ; that 
 societies, no more than individuals, can 
 claim this high prerogative ? Can I then 
 reasonably expect, that, in their laws and 
 decisions, they should never err ? And if I 
 did expect or demand this, would I not act 
 most preposterously agaiiTst the principle 
 on which I found ? This is requiring in the 
 effect, what I acknowledge is not in the 
 cause. Is it one jot better, to expect an 
 unerring conduct from a fallible society, 
 than to require omniscience from those 
 w hose knowledge is limited ? Those, indeed. 
 
207 
 
 who take this most unchristian method, 
 appear invariably to found on one princi- 
 ple, — that whatever others be, either as in- 
 dividuals or as communities, they them- 
 selves are infallible in their judgment; 
 since, without the least hesitation or mo- 
 desty, they dictatorially pronounce every 
 thing to be corrupt and wicked, that does 
 not perfectly coincide with their own senti- 
 ments. 
 
 I acknowledge, indeed, that truth is not 
 to be determined by numbers ; but if, where 
 differences in thinking arise, there is to be 
 no acquiescence in the awards of an esta- 
 blished order, it is absurd in men to pre- 
 tend to have, or acknowledge, any govern- 
 ment or rule. The manifest tendency of 
 the leading principle of such conduct, is, As 
 many men, as many churches: for a perfect 
 unanimity in thinking, between any two 
 persons who are at all capable .of thinking, 
 is an idle chimera, and therefore not to. be 
 expected. Such as are not disposed, in 
 
208 
 
 regard to many differences in judgment, " to 
 " bear with, and forbear, one another in 
 '^ love," agreeably to the injunction of the 
 Apostle, are not qualified for living in the 
 world ; they ought to turn recluses, and 
 no longer mingle in the societies of men. I 
 have sometimes known a teacher of this 
 stamp, who, having set out on this wild, not 
 to say, impious plan, — having extinguished 
 in his people all deference to superiors, 
 and infused, on the contrary, a contempt of 
 authority and rule as radically corrupted, — 
 has found at last, that all his blows have 
 recoiled upon himself, and that the peo- 
 ple have, in consequence of his ill-directed 
 labours, imbibed a principle, which has 
 rendered them as incapable of being guided 
 hy him, as he wanted to make them in regard 
 to his and their superiors ; — thus, I may 
 say, *' receiving in himself that recompence 
 of his error which was meet/' Many in- 
 stances might be produced, in which the 
 factious spirit of the disciples has outrun 
 
209 
 
 the views of their teacher, and carried them 
 further than he has thought it convenient to 
 go. Let us atleastallow the community to 
 which we belong the same equitable treat- 
 ment that we think incumbent on us to- 
 wards one another. To admonish a bro- 
 ther of his faults, when we have a proper 
 opportunity, is a duty of friendship, as well 
 as of Christian charity; but to rail against 
 him to others in his absence, to expose his 
 faults, to magnify them, — nay, I may say, to 
 fabricate crimes, where there are none, by 
 all the vile arts of misrepresentation, and 
 that to his friends and relatives, his chil- 
 dren and domestics, under pretence of warn- 
 ing them, — seems to be the offspring of a 
 spirit, to which I shall leave it to every impar- 
 tial person to assign the proper name. Admit 
 that there are some grounds of complaint, 
 (as in what human society are there not?) 
 use the power and influence with which, as 
 a member of the society, you are regularly, 
 invested, in order to remedy what you think 
 p 
 
210 
 
 amiss ; bearing, at the same time, with be- 
 coming patience and humility, the evils 
 which you are not authorized to correct : 
 above all things, take care, that, in order 
 to correct a less evil, ye do not precipitate 
 yourselves into a greater ; and, for the sake 
 of repairing some inferior part that is da- 
 maged, ye do not unhinge the whole. The 
 Christian community to which we belong 
 ought to be resjarded with the reverence 
 due to a parent. Let us dread, then, lest 
 we do any thing to incur the indelible 
 stigma, which, to this day, renders execrable 
 the memory of Ham, who basely exposed 
 his father's nakedness ;— let us rather imi- 
 tate the dutiful conduct of his more pious 
 brothers, who acted such a part, on that 
 occasion, as will, to the latest ages, be men- 
 tioned to their honour. I should not have 
 been so particular on this article, if I had 
 not considered it as one of the greatest 
 evils and the greatest dangers to which 
 the profession of a preacher in this country 
 
211 
 
 exposes him ; — ' Hinc illce lacrymce ! ' — hence 
 our secessions, and methodisms, and re- 
 hefs, and independencies, and what not ; 
 besides many divisions, under different 
 denominations, amongst ourselves, which, 
 though they have excited indecent and un- 
 christian heart-burnings, have not yet come 
 to an open rupture. Could we but per- 
 suade men to pay due regard to these two 
 important lessons of inspiration ; '' Not to 
 *' think of themselves more highly than 
 ** they ought to think, but to think sober- 
 *' \y \' — and not to value "the honour which 
 " Cometh from men, but to value that 
 " honour only which cometh from God ;" 
 there would be very little occasion for 
 many words on this article. That noted 
 idol, the ' popularis aura,* which has so 
 many votaries, and to which so many costly 
 sacrifices are daily offered, is the great bane 
 of our harmony and peace. But as the 
 greatest ills arrive gradually at what may 
 be called their perfection in badness ; and 
 P2 . ' 
 
212 
 
 as they will sometimes arrive at a pitch, in 
 this respect, which the persons infected by 
 them at first never dreamt of; it is of con- 
 sequence to warn against the beginnings of 
 this plague. The ancient apophthegm, 
 * Principiis obsta,' is a precept of unspeak- 
 able importance, in regard to all the ills of 
 human life, both physical and moral. 
 
 I have said so much already on the 
 proper regard due to the people, — on the 
 attention which the conscientious pastor 
 will find it reasonable to pay to their senti- 
 ments, — and on the care he ought to take not 
 wantonly to shock even their prejudices, — 
 that I should think it quite superfluous to 
 use any other cautions, to prevent my being 
 misunderstood, in regard to the faultiness 
 of a deficiency on this head. In respect of 
 the other extreme — the excess, I shall beg 
 your attention to those precautions which 
 follow. First, be cautious, when, in any 
 instance, you are lucky enough to gain the 
 favour and applause of the people, that ye 
 
213 
 
 do not over-rate this advantage. Remem- 
 ber, that it is only to be valued for their 
 sakes, not for your own, — as a means, and 
 not as an end. In this last view, it is below 
 the regard of a wise and good pastor, who 
 ought to be far superior to the little vanity 
 of deriving any gratification to liis pride, 
 from the praise of those who, in general, 
 may be supposed, in point of knov^4edge 
 and attainments, his inferiors. 
 ' A second caution I would give on this 
 article, and which perhaps will be thought 
 a natural consequence of the former, is, 
 never, on any consideration, to allow your- 
 self to engage in what may be called a rivalry 
 for popularity with any of your brethren. 
 That ye should be solicitous that none 
 may be more punctual in the faithful dis- 
 charge of the duties of your office, is a 
 pious and commendable emulation ; but if 
 the object be, who shall stand highest in the 
 people's favour, it is a thousand to one but 
 you entangle yourself in low and unworthy 
 
214 
 
 artifices. There is this difference between 
 a virtuous emulation and every other rival- 
 ship, that, in the former, the view of the 
 virtues and good qualities of another, so 
 far from giving pain, give pleasure — not 
 only from charity, but as they are spurs to 
 our diligence, — and encourage our hope, by 
 shewing us how much is attainable, where 
 there are proper exertion and perseverance: 
 whereas every inferior rivalship is but too 
 commonly productive of envy, the ugliest 
 of vices, which does not so naturally prove 
 an incentive to excellence in the envdous, 
 as it does to detraction. A person, in- 
 fluenced by this devilish passion, never fails 
 to consider, that his own superiority is as 
 effectually maintained by sinking others, as 
 by raising himself ; and as that is both the 
 shorter and the easier method, it is what 
 he will most readily have recourse to. 
 
 The last caveat I shall give on this 
 head, is, carefully to avoid every thing that 
 looks like competition with others, in what 
 
215 
 
 may be called the common popular arts ; 
 such as being directed, in the choice of a 
 subject, more by the consideration of what 
 will please the people ye address, than by 
 the consideration of what will edify them. 
 As there were in the days of Isaiah, there 
 still are, and probably ever will be, some 
 '' rebellious people, false children, children 
 " that will not hear the law of the Lord : 
 " who say to the seers, See not ; and to the 
 ' ' prophets. Prophesy not to us right things, 
 •' but speak unto us smooth things." A 
 teacher, however, who, in a point of this 
 nature, shall be more disposed to gratify 
 the people's humour than to instruct and 
 improve their minds, I must consider as in 
 a great measure lost to all the valuable 
 purposes of his ministry ; he manifestly 
 sacrifices the end to the means ; — for their 
 spiritual improvement should be the great 
 end of his charge. He deserves,. therefore, 
 at best, no higher, appellation than that of a 
 * prophesier of deceits/ (as such conduct is 
 
216 
 
 termed by Isaiah,) if he considers more, in 
 his teaching, what will be palatable to the 
 bulk of his congregation, than what will be 
 instructive. This may be affirmed, with 
 justice, concerning him, even though none 
 of tlie thinsfs he miijht advance could be 
 justly said to be false ; — his aim and design 
 are deceitful. It is not enough that he 
 preach truth ; it must be the truth, which 
 they stand most in need to be told : and 
 where there are popular prejudices of this 
 kind, against hearing either the doctrines or 
 the duties of religion, we have reason to 
 conclude, that th^ truth, which they need 
 most to be told, is that which they are least 
 inclined to hear. 
 
 Another too common popular art, is, on 
 certain occasions, a very unseasonable pro- 
 lixity. The ignorant, as I once observed 
 formerly, are but too apt to estimate the 
 value of what they hear from the quantity : 
 wherever that is the case, I am satisfied 
 there is no ground to expect that the un- 
 
217 
 
 derstanding should be much enhghtened, or 
 the affections corrected, by what they hear : 
 they have a sort of gratification, and con- 
 ceive more of their duty to consist, in the 
 hearing, than in the effect which it has upon 
 their minds, or in any use afterwards to be 
 made of what they hear. The bulk of most 
 congregations are much the same with us 
 as they were in Israel, in the days of the 
 Prophet Ezekiel : they are ready enough 
 to Say, " Come, I pray you, and let us 
 " hear what is the word that cometh forth 
 '' from the Lord. And they come unto 
 *' thee, as the people cometh ; and they sit 
 *' before thee, as my people; and they hear 
 *' thy words ; but they will not do them ; 
 '* for with their moutli they shew much 
 " love, but their heart goeth after their 
 *' covetousness. And, lo ! thou art unto 
 " them as a very lovely song of one that 
 " hath a pleasant voice, and can play well 
 *' on an instrument; for they hear thy 
 *' words, but they do them not." Preaching, 
 
218 
 
 and the public ordinances of religion, 
 are to such of no more consequence than 
 the entertainment that is received from 
 vocal or instrumental music — they amuse 
 and gratify while they last, but leave no 
 effect behind them : nay, in this respect, 
 the former is the worse, and the more dan- 
 gerous amusement of the two; inasmuch 
 as those, who use it in this manner, are but 
 too prone to give themselves credit for real 
 devotion and sanctity, in proportion to the 
 time thus employed, and to the gratification 
 which they find in the employment : whereas 
 of the latter we may say, at least, that if it 
 does no good, it does no harm; since no 
 man is disposed to take a merit to himself 
 from such exercises. One bad consequence, 
 therefore, of immoderate length in our 
 religious offices, is, that it tends too much 
 to feed a superstitious disposition in the 
 people, and thereby to divert their at- 
 tention from that which ought to be the 
 main object — the improvement they make 
 
219 
 
 of what they hear. It is the duty of a 
 pastor to wean his people as much as pos- 
 sible, by every method which prudence 
 dictates, from all prejudices and misconcep- 
 tions, in a matter of such unspeakable con- 
 sequence. Immoderate length, in all kinds 
 of religious offices, has ever had an influence 
 on weak and superstitious minds : and for 
 this reason, those who have hypocritically 
 affected the religious character, have ever 
 chosen to distinguish themselves by this 
 circumstance. The Pharisees, who made 
 use of religion as a cover to their pride and 
 extortion, ** for a pretence,'' as our Lord 
 tells us, " made long prayers." He, who 
 never spoke a word in vain, did not add the 
 epithet ' long ' unmeaningly : the length 
 of their devotions, as well as the breadth 
 of their phylacteries, and the largeness of 
 the fringes at the corners of their garments, 
 were all so many engines of their craft. Dr. 
 South, speaking of some popular leaders,- 
 who rivalled one another in respect of their 
 
220 
 
 influence on the multitude, takes notice of 
 a new sort of gymnastic exercise, in which 
 they engaged, unheard of among the 
 ancients, which he denominates, emphati- 
 cally enough, ' preaching prizes ;' that is, as 
 I understand it, vying with one another 
 who shall hold forth longest. Can any 
 thing of the nature, use, and end of preach- 
 ing, be understood or regarded, where such 
 a Pharisaic trick is put in practice ? 
 
 I would not, by all this, be meant to sig- 
 nify, as though we could with propriety, on 
 all subjects and occasions, confine ourselves 
 within the same compass, which was never 
 to be exceeded : I think that is neither 
 natural nor necessary. What I would 
 chiefly dissuade from, is, whatever savours 
 of ostentation in this particular, or shews 
 any disposition to vie with others in regard 
 to it. The due time to be employed in the 
 public exercises of religion, is, like the cir- 
 cumstances of most other practices, deter- 
 mined very much by custom. The atten- 
 
221 
 
 tion and patience of the major part will 
 generally keep up pretty well for as long a 
 time as they expect, from common prac- 
 tice, that there will be a demand for their 
 attention, and as they have been habituated 
 to give it. If that time be much exceeded, 
 unless there be something so very particular 
 as to command attention, it will naturally 
 flag, and end in weariness, impatience, and 
 even sometimes disgust. Besides, it should 
 be remembered, that as attention cannot 
 always be preserved, so the memory, being 
 finite, may be overloaded. It is always 
 safer here to leave off, whilst the people have 
 an appetite for more, than to cloy, by giving 
 them too much. But it may be said, that 
 the appetite of some persons is here in- 
 satiable. Depend on it, wherever that is 
 the case, it is a false appetite, and followed 
 by no digestion : the whole significancy of 
 those exercises to such, is the time spent in 
 them, and the transient emotions they feel 
 when thus employed. By the immoderate 
 
222 
 
 length, therefore, of public devotional ex- 
 ercises and religious offices, the patience of 
 the intelligent hearer is worn out, the 
 superstition of the ignorant is cherished, 
 the spirits of the performer are very 
 unprofitably exhausted, — and that service, 
 which ever ought to be attended with 
 real pleasure, is both to him, and part of 
 his audience, rendered burthensome. What 
 I have now said, is to be applied principally 
 to those more solemn religious offices, 
 which, on account of the parts whereof 
 they consist, employ much more time than 
 others. Brevity is here chiefly to be at- 
 tended to, in treating the several parts : 
 this deserves particularly to be observed 
 in the sermons and discourses which are 
 given on occasion of the Communion. By 
 the manner in which that service is pro- 
 tracted in many places throughout this 
 country, (to which, we may justly say, the 
 immoderate desire of popularity does not a 
 little contribute,) a certain mixture of 
 
223 
 
 fanaticism and superstition is propagated 
 among the illiterate, which, as it tends to 
 subvert the genuine spirit of rational re- 
 ligion in their own minds, does by no means 
 serve to recommend the religious character 
 to others, who, though of greater dis- 
 cernment and knowledge, will not take the 
 trouble, when prejudiced by outward ap- 
 pearances, to enter so far into the subject 
 as to distinguish between the use and the 
 abuse. But I have said enough, perhaps 
 too much, on this article. 
 
 I shall not suggest any thing to fortify 
 you against the temptations of pride and 
 ambition, which have been likewise laid to 
 the charge of the Clerical character. It 
 has been maintained by some, as an un- 
 doubted maxim, that " Priests of all reli- 
 gions are the same.'* Nothing, in my opi- 
 nion, can be more unjust. The doctrines 
 to be inculcated, the offices to be performed, 
 the nature of the ecclesiastic establishment, 
 from which all their temporal hopes and 
 
224 
 
 prospects must be derived, are so exceed- 
 ingly different, and even sometimes repug- 
 nant in what are called different religions, that 
 it would destroy all the principles of moral 
 reasoning, to suppose that their tendency 
 should be the same. In our own constitu- 
 tion, for example, in which we have no 
 hierarchy, no superior dignities nor wealthy 
 sinecures, and in which, it is notorious, that 
 we do not make the same pretensions with 
 others to supernatural and indelible sacred- 
 ness in the character, the ministers of re- 
 ligion have by no means the same tempta- 
 tions to pride and ambition, that they have 
 in many other churches, both Popish and 
 Protestant. At the same time,- impartiality 
 obliges me to own, on the other hand, that 
 there is perhaps greater temptation with us 
 than is found in most other churches, to the 
 fault which I have been so warmly warning 
 you against, namely, an excessive desire of 
 popularity. 
 
 It has likewise been charged upon the 
 
225 
 
 order, that the very business in which they 
 are engaged, has a tendency to foster, in 
 them, bigotry, and a persecuting spirit. 
 Though there may be some truth in this 
 charge hkewise, it is very far from being 
 the same in all religions : the importance 
 of every thing that concerns religion, the 
 particular interest which its ministers have 
 in supporting it, the habit of having their 
 attention so much fixed on this object, — 
 all tend, in weak minds, to be productive 
 of these consequences ; and among so 
 numerous a body, as this order of men is 
 in every country, it is not to be expected 
 that all should be superior to their influence. 
 Bigotry, as distinguished from zeal, may be 
 defined, an immoderate attachment to the 
 exterior of religion ; unde»' which term, I 
 include not only the forms and ceremonies 
 of worship, biit those tenets in particular, 
 which are consiJered as the badge of the 
 party, whereby it is discriminated from ail 
 Others. As tiie attention of true zeal ii> 
 Q 
 
chiefly fixed on the interior— the spirit and 
 temper of religion, it seeks to promote it, 
 in others, by the only suitable means — argu- 
 ment and persuasion. Bigotry, which looks 
 not beyond the surface, aims chiefly to 
 produce an external conformity and profes- 
 sion, from whatever motive or principle 
 such co4iformity shall flow ; and, for this 
 purpose, is ready to employ violence, 
 where argument fails. From this simple 
 definition and distinction of these two, the 
 following consequence may be plainly de- 
 duced : — The more absurd the speculative 
 and distinguishing tenets of a party are, 
 and the more numerous and fantastical their 
 ceremonies, the more there will be of 
 bigotry in that party, and the less of what 
 alone deserves the name of pure Christian 
 zeal. The reason is obvious : and that the 
 fact is conformable to this doctrine, History 
 but too plainly shews. In proportion as 
 the Church dechned from her ancient sim- 
 plicity, adopted absurd dogmas into her 
 
system, and vile superstitious mummeries 
 into her worship, she separated herself 
 from the truly benevolent spirit — zeai, and 
 contracted an intimacy with that unrelent- 
 ing fury — bii^otry. Reason and argument 
 are but ill adapted for maintaining the cause 
 of absurdity and nonsense : racks and 
 gibbets, fire and faggot, answer infinitely 
 better. Hence it may easily be perceived, 
 why the Church of Rome, of all churches, 
 is most infected with this infernal tyranny ; 
 and that other churches will have more or 
 less of it, as they more or less approach to 
 her in the respects above mentioned. As, 
 however, in every church, there will be some 
 tendency to this evil, in ^eak and illiberal 
 minds, whose attention is chiefly fixed on 
 the outside of things, it is very proper that 
 every one, who would act a part becoming 
 the servant of so divinely humane and be- 
 nevolent a Ma:5ter, be particularly watchful 
 against every approach of this, demon : 
 '' The weapons of our warfare," says the 
 
 Q2 
 
Apostle, " are not carnal ; but mighty, 
 '' through God, to the pulling down of 
 " strong-holds ;" for doing what no car- 
 nal weapons can effectuate — "casting down 
 " imaginations, reasonings, and every high 
 '' thing that exalteth itself against the 
 " knowledge of God ;*' for subduing the 
 mind, not the body ; " and bringing into 
 " captivity every thought, to the obedience 
 *' of Christ," 
 
229 
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 OF SLOTH. WEALTH, A GREAT, BUT NOT THE ONLY 
 
 CORRUPTER NEITHER OUR SCANTY PROVISION, NOR 
 
 OUR ECCLESIASTICAL LAWS, A SUFFICIENT SECURITY 
 AGAINST THE RISK OF LAZINESS EXTREMELY RIGO- 
 ROUS LAWS FALL INTO DISUSE MANY, NOT QUA- 
 LIFIED, ATTEMPT EXTEMPORIZING IN THE PULPIT 
 
 THIS CONTRIBUTES TO LAZINESS, AND TO OUR LOSING 
 THE HABIT OF COMPOSING THE PRACTICE OF COM- 
 POSING OF THE GREATEST CONSEQUENCE TO US 
 
 THE PROPER EMPLOYMENT OF TIME, AND THE AD- 
 VANTAGES OF FOLLOWING A SETTLED PLAN. 
 
 1 HAVE, in the three last Lectures on the 
 Ministerial Character, warned you against 
 some of those vices, to which, it is 
 thought, there is, in this profession, very 
 strong temptation ; namely, hypocrisy, an 
 immoderate pursuit of popularity, and an 
 unrelenting bigotry, or persecuting zeal. 
 
There is another vice, of which, I 
 think, a minister in this country is in some 
 danger from his profession ; and that is, 
 sloth ; a vice, against which it is of very 
 great consequence, to all of us, to be ever 
 on our guard. But how, it will be said, 
 can we be thought to be in particular ha- 
 zard of this fault, when it is considered 
 how much almost every minister of this 
 country must be occupied in the necessary 
 parochial duties, which give but little 
 scope for relaxation, and still less for idle- 
 ness? Here we have neither sinecures nor 
 pluralities, nor those fat benefices, which 
 can liberally support, with the title of 
 Rector, a lazy drone, who minds no other 
 business, but to eat, and sleep, — and can 
 afford an overplus, to serve as a pittance 
 to a drudge, called a Curate, for doing all 
 the work. We are, besides, by our eccle- 
 siastical laws, obliged to residence ; and not 
 permitted to serve by a delegate, except in 
 case of age or infirmities. Where, then. 
 
231 
 
 can be the risk of laziness ? Are we not 
 sufficiently secured against this, by the scan- 
 tiness of our provision, as well as by the 
 nature of our ecclesiastical constitution? 
 I acknowledge, that one would think so, 
 who would duly consider how much 
 the laws of our church require of the mi- 
 nisters, in regard both to teaching and to 
 discipline ; and how little the pastors are 
 enabled, by their livings, to do more than 
 is j ust necessary, in a sober and decent man- 
 ner, to support their own families. Indeed 
 the latter, the smallness of the livings, is 
 the more powerful check of the two ; for 
 that the best ecclesiastical canons may be 
 eluded, and certainly will be eluded, when 
 the opulence of the ministerial offices is so 
 great, as not only to afford the temptation, 
 but to supply the possessors with the means, 
 of eluding them, — nay, and of screening 
 from danger the persons who elude them, — 
 what has already happened in the Christian 
 church may serve as a sufficient evidence. 
 
232 
 
 Nothing can be conceived purer, stricter, 
 or better calculated for securing a punctual 
 supply of necessary instruction and direc- 
 tion to the Christian people, and enforcing 
 the watchful diligence and attention of 
 their pastors, than the regulations subsist- 
 ing in the primitive church, for the first 
 three hundred years ; yet nothing can ex- 
 ceed the torrent of corruption, which an 
 immoderate and sudden influx of wealth, 
 in a few ages after, introduced. The at- 
 tention of expectants came soon to be 
 engrossed by the revenues ; without any 
 consideration of the duties, unless to devise 
 expedients whereby they might be super- 
 seded. Charges came to be as solicitousl}^ 
 and openly courted, as, in former times, 
 they had been very sincerely and modestly 
 decUned. When only the value of the bene- 
 fices came to be regarded, those who had 
 them at their disposal, knew how to rate 
 them : hence a natural introduction to 
 venality and simony. Those who pur- 
 
233 
 
 chaseci, would readily think they had a 
 right to sell, and make the most of every 
 thing ; and that they held their livings, for 
 which they had paid, by another sort of 
 tenure than the discharge of the duties of 
 the office: hence, non -residence, sinecures, 
 commendams, pluralities, substitutions, and 
 I know not what. It is a certain maxim, 
 that no laws are of significancy enough to 
 bind men, when manners are lost. The 
 law — What is it ? — A dead letter : it can- 
 not execute itself; it must be executed 
 by men. When men are generally viti- 
 ated, they are never at a loss for pretexts, 
 whereb}^ they can explain away those laws, 
 which, in a corrupt state, will find few, or 
 none, that are both able .and willing to sup- 
 port them. When manners are on the 
 decline, but not entirely lost, it is not un- 
 common in legislators, from a sense that 
 the wise regulations of their predecessors 
 are losing their force, to think of remedying 
 the evil, by making new laws, with sane- 
 
234 
 
 tions much severer than the old. I think 
 there are some symptoms of this dedine 
 in ourselves, which appear, in some late 
 acts of assembly, against simoniacal prac- 
 tices. But no expedient can be weaker, 
 or less adapted to the end : — a law, ex- 
 tremely rigorous, is sure of falling soon into 
 disuse : many more crimes escape with 
 impunity, and thence become more fre- 
 quent, in consequence of the excessive 
 rigour of the law, than in consequence 
 of its lenity. When the law breathes 
 more of passion than of reason, we 
 may be sure it will answer xio good end ; 
 and it is not uncommon to see the 
 same men, in the character of lawgivers, 
 immoderately severe, who, in the charac- 
 ter of judges, shew an immoderate indul- 
 gence. 
 
 But it may be said, if wealth is the great 
 corrupter of manners, there is perhaps no 
 church m which there is less danger of 
 corruption than ours. I admit the truth 
 
235 
 
 of this position also. The church-livings 
 in this country are rather under, than 
 above, what would appear suited to the 
 rank and character necessary to be main- 
 tained in a station, which, in order to be 
 more extensively useful, ought always to 
 be preceded by a liberal education. This, 
 however, is perhaps the safer extreme. But 
 wealth, though a great, is not the only 
 corrupter: — we have little indeed; but 
 what we have, we enjoy with great secu- 
 rity : security produces ease ; ease is 
 is apt to beget indolence, and to deaden 
 zeal. Discipline, we must all be sensible, 
 is exceedingly relaxed amongst us : the 
 relaxation of discipline emboldens men to 
 transgress : and though there are but few 
 who will be induced, by this reflection, to 
 allow tl>emselves in what is really scan- 
 dalous, we cannot be surprised, that a con- 
 siderable degree of remissness, in regard to 
 the active duties of their function, should, 
 come too generally to prevail. Of this 
 
236 
 
 tliere is the greater hazard, as it commonly 
 creeps in by insensible degrees. We are 
 in general (I say not that it holds of every 
 individual) more inactive, more negligent, 
 than our immediate predecessors ; but then 
 the difference is inconsiderable, and pro- 
 bably little attended to, or minded. The 
 difference, in each succession, is very little ; 
 but in a number of successions becomes very 
 great. Now, if our successors should con- 
 tinue to fall short of us, and theirs again of 
 them, there would be some reason to dread, 
 that the people would generally relapse 
 into the same ignorance and depravity, 
 with which the Christian world was over- 
 whelmed at the time of the Reformation. 
 In the establishment of our Church at the 
 reformation from Popery, our church- 
 rulers shewed the greatest solicitude, 
 that this evil might effectually be pre- 
 vented in future ages. In Popish times, 
 preaching had, for several centuries, been 
 universally disused: neither bishops, nor 
 
237 
 
 secular priests, considered it as any part 
 of their charge. In some cathedrals, and 
 principal churches of populous cities, they 
 had sometimes sermons on high festivals, 
 or in the time of Lent ; but preaching, in 
 general, had fallen into the hands of the 
 regulars, chiefly the Begging Friars, who 
 were licensed by the Pope, and who found 
 this a useful engine of their trade, which 
 was, to draw money to their monasteries. 
 The other way of teaching in public, by 
 reading the Scriptures, I have observed to 
 you in ni}^ Historical Lectures,' had been 
 rendered totally useless to the people, by 
 being performed in a language which they 
 did not understand. 
 
 It was very commendable in the re- 
 formers, and even necessary, to devise proper 
 methods for preventing this evil in time to 
 come : several were devised, wherevQi' the 
 
 (1) See the Author's Lectures on Ecclosuisticnl Historv 
 vol. II. page 247, &:c. 
 
238 
 
 Reformation took place, which have proved 
 exceedingly useful. Beside the translation 
 of the Scriptures into the vulgar language, 
 and the establishing of parochial schools, 
 wherein the children, even of the poorer 
 sort, might either gratuitously, or, on very 
 low terms, be taught to read them, they 
 appointed that the people, even in the 
 most populous parishes, should be annually, 
 and, where it could be effected, oftener, 
 catechized by the minister. The founders 
 of our church-establishment, in particular, 
 have ordered, besides that a great part of 
 our public service, especially on the Lord's 
 Day, should be occupied in teaching ; and 
 that, as well by reading the Scriptures to the 
 people, as by expounding them, which we 
 commonly call ' lecturing,* and by preach- 
 ing. I own, that, in respect of the two 
 last, the zeal of our reformers has led them 
 rather to exceed the proper boundary, than 
 to fall short of it. I know not by what 
 corruption, or perversion of taste (for it is 
 
239 
 
 by no means agreeable to our standards), 
 the two last, lecturing and preaching, have, 
 in a manner, altogether jostled out the first, 
 and most important — the reading of the 
 Scriptures ; for, except what is done by the 
 Precentor in this way, before worship 
 begins (and even this usage is not universal 
 with Us), the practice of reading a portion 
 of Scripture to the congregation, has, in a 
 manner, become obsolete ; for we cannot 
 surely account it a sufficient discharge of 
 this duty, to read a few verses, which are 
 made the subject of our lectures ? But the 
 article, on which I think our church-go- 
 vernors have exceeded, is the number of 
 discourses required weejcly from the mini- 
 sters, — no less than three for the greater part 
 of the year, and two for the remainder. 
 Now this is really more than can be reason- 
 ably expected from any man, who would 
 attentively digest his subject, and carefully 
 prepare the instructions he intends to give : 
 it is so much the harder to require this, as 
 
240 
 
 a minister cannot, in consistency with the 
 other essential parts of his duty, employ 
 himself entirely through the week, in pre- 
 paring the discourses he must give the 
 people on Sunday. Now, the necessary 
 consequence of exacting so much, is, that 
 the preparation will be rendered, in this 
 way, much more superficial than otherwise, 
 and his discourses inferior to what they 
 might have been. The difficulty, at first, 
 appears to be increased, by the custom 
 which still, in general, prevails throughout 
 the country, of not reading the discourses, 
 ,ut speaking them ; which is commonly 
 thought to pre-suppose, that the preacher 
 has not only composed and written them, 
 but has committed them faithfully to his 
 memory. Now, to say the truth, this is a 
 task, which, to the much greater part of 
 preachers, would be absolutely impossible, 
 and therefore ought never to have been 
 imposed ; for, when more is exacted than, 
 in the time allowed, can be executed in the 
 
241 
 
 best manner, they will, they must be, (for 
 there can be no fault where the effect is 
 necessary,) performed in a more perfunctory 
 manner. This often forces men, who are 
 not qualified for it, to attempt extempo- 
 rizing, or, at least, holding forth with very 
 little preparation. The consequence is, that 
 either they lose the habit of composing, 
 or contract a habit of composing in ' a 
 slovenly manner, which rarely leaves them 
 ever after ; though even, from a change 
 of circumstances, they should happen to 
 have more leisure, as well as longer time, 
 to finish properly what they undertake. (j 
 In this northern region, indeed, use has, 
 in effect, abolished part of what our canons 
 strictly require : but enough still remains 
 to furnish us with pretty close employment 
 through the week; as thele are two dis- 
 courses weekly, for one half of the year, 
 and one for the other. The necessity, in 
 many places, (that we may avoid shocking 
 too much the prejudices of the people,) of 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 delivering, as it were, viva voce, the instruc- 
 tions which we give them, has, I am afraid, 
 on tiie whole, done more hurt to the 
 pulpit compositions in this church, than 
 ever it has done service. To compose so 
 many discourses in so short a time, to write 
 them, and to get them by heart, without 
 neglecting any of the other necessary func- 
 tions of a minister, is hardly practicable 
 for one-tenth of mankind, taken at an 
 average. If sermons must be spoken, in 
 order to be attended to and regarded by the 
 people, there is no help for it ; a preacher 
 must do his best, to gratify them in this, 
 rather than throw an obstacle in the way 
 of edifying them. But if they must be 
 spoken, and not read, who will warrant that 
 they must be written, — that they must be 
 composed, — nay, that they must be pre- 
 ceded by any premeditation or study ? Nor 
 let this be thought an unreasonable sug- 
 gestion. When more work, in one way 
 or other, must be performed, than a man 
 
243 
 
 has time to undertake, part must be neg- 
 lected. If he has succeeded tolerably, 
 notwithstanding the deficiency of prepa- 
 ration, he will next be emboldened to ven- 
 ture further, spending daily less time than 
 formerly in preparation, as he becomes 
 more familiarized with the task of preach- 
 ing. This habit will be greatly accele- 
 rated, if the minister consider his audience 
 (which in many places may be done without 
 great vanity or presumption) as much in- 
 ferior to himself in knowledge and im- 
 provement. 
 
 Let it not be imagined, from any thing 
 now advanced, that I universally prefer 
 reading, to speaking a discourse : I do by 
 no means. When the latter is executed in 
 perfection, it is greatly preferable to the 
 former, however well executed. But I am 
 quite satisfied, from the experience and ob- 
 servation of many years, that the former is 
 a much easier, and more common attain- 
 ment, than the latter. Besides, though few 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 seem properly sensible of it, there is a very- 
 great difference between speaking an ora- 
 tion, and repeating verbatim what has been 
 servilely committed to memory. I shall 
 only say for myself, that I have tried both 
 ways ; and I am certain, that I can read 
 with much more energy, tlian I can repeat 
 what I have gotten by heart. A man is 
 more at his ease in the first case ; he is 
 without fear ; and has leisure to enter fully 
 into the sentiments. In the other case, 
 there is an attention necessary, to the words, 
 and to the run of the sentence ; and a fear 
 of losing the thread, which it is scarcely 
 possible entirely to surmount, and which 
 keeps the mind suspended ; and so hinders 
 it from being completely engrossed, as it 
 ought to be, with the subject and thoughts. 
 But this question belongs more properly to 
 another part of my Course, on which I 
 have freely given my opinion. ' 
 
 (J) See the Author's. Lectures on Systematic Theology 
 aiul Pulpit Eloquence, hitely published, p. 333, &:c. 
 
245 
 
 There is, however, one objection urged 
 against reading, rather than repeating, our 
 pulpit exercises, which deserves to be 
 considered in this place ; where it is my 
 particular view, to excite to activity in the 
 discharge of every duty, and to warn against 
 sloth and remissness. It is sometimes ar- 
 gued, that to dispense with the toil of com- 
 mitting to memory, is to encourage laziness, 
 to which no man is less disposed than I to 
 give indulgence. But, let us consider ; the 
 whole weight of this objection depends on 
 the decision of the former question, — AVhicli 
 of the two ways, reading or repeating, would, 
 upon the whole, taking men's talents to be 
 such as they generally are, be preferable ? 
 For if the former be, in general, preferable, 
 to employ more time and labour to no 
 useful purpose, deserves not to be called 
 activity : it is, in fact, a misapplication of 
 talents, and a mis-spending of time; to 
 husband which properly, is so far* from being ^ 
 laziness, that it is one of the most profitable 
 
246 
 
 sorts of economy we can learn. Labour, 
 whether of body or mind, is no farther 
 valuable than it is profitable, either in itself, 
 as a salutary exercise, or for the attainment 
 of some good end. But I will acknowledge 
 freely, that the thing, which makes me so 
 little inclined to think that it ought to be 
 made an indispensable rule with preachers 
 to repeat the discourses they give to the 
 people, is, that I know not any thing which 
 has contributed more to laziness, in respect 
 of composition and preparation for the 
 pulpit, than the strong prejudice which, 
 I acknowledge, still prevails in many places, 
 though not so much as formerly, against 
 using papers in the pulpit. I know there are 
 many— I do not hesitate to acknowledge 
 that I am one of the number — who would 
 have much more labour, and would waste 
 more time, in getting a discourse by heart, 
 than in composing and writing it ; and, con- 
 sequently, that if I had continued, as I 
 began, to confine myself to this method. 
 
247 
 
 I should have much obstructed, instead of 
 forwarding, my progress. I know, too, 
 that this is not the case with every body. 
 Tiiere are some, who find it a very ea'^y 
 task. To those who do so, and who can 
 pronounce what they repeat with tolerable 
 energy and grace, I would by all means 
 recommend this method, in preference to 
 reading. Tlie only thing I disapprove, is, 
 to make this a general rule, and to consi- 
 der it as in a manner indispensable. Those 
 who have slower memories, if ye will make 
 it absolutely necessary, will soon learn to 
 dispense with the task of composing and 
 writing what they dare not use, in the 
 only possible way, after it is composed 
 and written. I speak, from experience; 
 and I own to you, that I have often re- 
 gretted, that, from considerations of this 
 kind, in the first nine years of my ministry, 
 when I had the charge of a country parish, 
 I very much lost the habit of composing ; 
 which I did not find it so easy a matter 
 
248 
 
 afterwards to resume, as I expected; 
 though, in consequence of resolution and 
 perseverance, I did at last surmount it. 
 Whereas, if it were permitted, (I do not 
 say enjoined, — for that would be a fault in 
 the other extreme,) and if it were no sub- 
 ject of offence, to read our discourses from 
 the pulpit, six times as many would be 
 written as are at present ; and, I think, we 
 may reasonably conclude, that our mini- 
 sters would be more active, and their ser- 
 mons in general more instructive, than 
 as matters stand at present : for the wri- 
 ting would insure one thing at least, that 
 some thought and study would be bestowed 
 on them. 
 
 But whichever of the two methods you, 
 my Hearers, shall adopt, (for in this you 
 ought to be directed by the prudential con- 
 siderations of the sentiments of your peo- 
 ple, and of your own abilities,) do not by 
 any means allow yourselves to fall out of 
 the habit of composing. A man never 
 
249 
 
 more effectually instructs himself, than iu 
 preparing instructions for others. Nothing 
 is of greater consequence to us, if ever we 
 would be eminent in our profession, than 
 the practice of composing ; it tends at 
 once to form a liabit of reflecting on 
 what we hear, and what we see, and 
 what we read ; to give a command of 
 language, and facility of expression ; and, 
 also, to infix in our memories, and render, 
 as it were, our own, the most important 
 reflections, which either reading or con- 
 versation has furnished us with. It is by 
 duly tempering these three, — reading, or 
 study; conversing, or the practice of the 
 world ; and writing, or composing, — that we 
 shall have the greatest probability of ar- 
 riving both at knowledge and at useful- 
 ness. Any one of them, without the rest, 
 will never lead to eminence : and we ouijht 
 to remember, that, without the art of 
 communication, knowledge loses much of 
 its utility in a pastor. To render composing 
 
250 
 
 easier, I would earnestly recommend you 
 to begin it early : you will find that you 
 have more leisure at present than you can 
 ever enjoy when you have the charge of 
 a parish, provided you possess a proper 
 sense of the weight of such a charge, and 
 the nature and importance of the duties it 
 requires. There are, no doubt, those, on 
 the contrary, who make the charge of a 
 parish a very easy matter to them ; grow in- 
 dolent and careless ; and, if they can acquit 
 themselves so as to escape the censure of 
 their superiors, think they have sufficiently 
 discharged their duty. If a man's chief 
 object, in choosing this business, be a liveli- 
 hood, this way of thinking is a very natural 
 consequence: such will always account it 
 enough, that they do what they must. A 
 man whose heart is in the service, and whose 
 great object is to be useful to his people, 
 especially in what concerns their most im- 
 portant interests, will not be satisfied with 
 himself, unless he do all he can. That ye 
 
251 
 
 may be able to do much, begin early: 
 ye are now at the time of Hfe proper for pre- 
 paring, laying in materials, and forming 
 habits, which, if duly improved, will greatly 
 facilitate your progress afterwards. If 
 neglected, your task will be much harder ; 
 and, consequently, the temptation will be 
 stronger, to make a light account of it. 
 
 Learn, above all things, to put a due value 
 on time : youth has a strange propensity, 
 to think that there is nothing of which 
 it can afford to be so lavish. About the 
 age of twenty, every man seems to fancy 
 that his stock of time is inexhaustible ; and 
 that he is in no danger of a criminal pro- 
 digality, in whatever way he squanders the 
 flying hours. There Cannot be a more 
 egregious or dangerous mistake, whether 
 a man's years (which, beforehand, must be 
 utterly uncertain) shall be few or many. 
 Not only, by such conduct, is so much time 
 irrecoverably lost, which might have been 
 profitably and creditably employed; but 
 
252 
 
 the worst is, that thereby a habit of inac- 
 tivity and remissness is contracted, not 
 easily afterwards to be overcome, especially 
 when permitted to be of long continuance. 
 Now, this ought particularly to alarm you, 
 as it gives you but too good a reason to 
 suspect, that the present waste of time will 
 prove the earnest of much greater profu- 
 sion afterwards. Evil habits (as has been 
 often justly observed) are of quicker growth 
 than good ; whereas, if ye begin early to 
 pursue the way that is most beneficial, 
 custom will render it most easy and delight- 
 ful. Nothing conduces more to this good 
 purpose, than to act upon a plan or system ; 
 to portion out your time beforehand ; divi- 
 ding the day, as it were, and assigning to 
 each part its proper employment ; — part for 
 reading on such a subject, or in such a lan- 
 guage ; part on such another ; part for any 
 necessary business ye may be engaged 
 in; part for composing ; part for relaxation 
 and exercise. These, doubtless, ye may 
 
25S 
 
 vary, as ye find occasion. Or ye may 
 enlarge your plan, and appoint different 
 subjects of study and exercise, for different 
 days of the week. Of this every one must 
 judge, according to his convenience and 
 particular occasions : but there are great 
 advantages in following a settled plan. 
 
 One advantage is the saving of time ; for, 
 when a man has no fixed scheme of proceed- 
 ing, a great deal of time is often lost in hesi- 
 tancy and irresolution, between leaving off 
 one thing and entering on another. A second 
 advantage is, constancy ; for a man is not 
 so easily diverted from a pursuit, which he 
 has deliberately adopted, and regularly 
 persisted in for some time, as from that 
 which he takes up occasionally, by fits and 
 starts. A third is, that the return of the 
 stated hour of any particular employment 
 proves a subject of recollection to him, to 
 call him off from what might prove an avo- 
 cation ; and is a powerful monitor against 
 sauntering and idling away the time. I shaU 
 
254 
 
 add a fourth, that, as this gives a pro- 
 bability that his studies will be more me- 
 thodical, he will unquestionably derive 
 more benefit from them. Nothing is of 
 greater moment than method, for making 
 a course of study both distinctly appre- 
 hended, and strongly remembered. 
 
 I would not be understood, by this pro- 
 posal, as affirming the propriety of tena- 
 ciously adhering to any plan of this kind, 
 once formed, whatever occurrences may 
 happen to render the prosecution of it ex- 
 tremely inconvenient, if not impracticable. 
 Two things must always be admitted, 
 as good grounds of interruption at least ; 
 and sometimes of a change, in whole or in 
 part: these are, necessity, and oppor- 
 tunity. The first, (necessity,) when we can- 
 not, either at all, or without great in- 
 convenience, persist immediately in the 
 projected course. Perhaps it may be ne- 
 cessary (as in the case of want of health) 
 to interrupt our scheme for a while : 
 
255 
 
 perhaps it is only necessary, as when the 
 proper books cannot be had in any branch 
 of study, to desist from that branch till 
 the inconvenience be removed. In this 
 case, we ought quickly to devise some 
 alteration, so that the time formerly allot- 
 ted to that study, in which we cannot now 
 be occupied, may be profitably employed 
 in some other article of our pursuit. I 
 allowed, that opportunity was also a good 
 reason for interruption : I mean by this, 
 when an occasion shall present itself, (which, 
 if we let slip, may not be soon, if ever, re- 
 covered,) of answering some important pur- 
 pose, in regard either to ourselves or to 
 others. An occasion of doing good, and of 
 being useful, is never to be neglected : this 
 is an end, and a principal end, of our exis- 
 tence. All study, reading, writing, &c. are 
 but as means to fit us for conducing to 
 that end. To neglect the end, when oppor- 
 tunity piresents it, for the sake of the 
 means, would not shew a very just appre-. 
 
256 
 
 hension of the subordination of duties. Tor 
 this cause, the minister of a parish, though 
 he may, in a good measure, pursue the 
 same plan with the student, must expect to 
 meet with more interruptions ; and ought 
 always to except the cases, wherein the 
 the good of his parishioners may require 
 his time and presence. But the many avo- 
 cations and interruptions ye will be neces- 
 sarily then exposed to, ought to be a 
 powerful incentive to you at present, both 
 timely to lay in a stock of useful materials 
 in the different branches of necessary know- 
 ledge, and, as soon as possible, to acquire 
 those habits of exertion, which will greatly 
 facilitate your progress afterwards. By 
 your advancement in knowledge, you 
 advance in a general preparation for all 
 the duties of the ministerial office ; by 
 spending part of your time in composing, 
 you may make much particular prepara- 
 tion, beforehand, for the pulpit. It is not 
 easy, I own, to induce young men to look 
 
257 
 
 ^o fiar before them. But if they could be 
 persuaded, I might venture to promise 
 them, they would find their account in it, 
 and have great satisfaction in reflecting 
 afterwards, that they have taken this 
 course. 
 
 Remember, that the whole of our busi- 
 ness and duty in life may be said to consist 
 in the right application of our talents, by the 
 proper use of our opportunities. The man 
 whom this description perfectly suits, what- 
 ever his station in life may be, is a good 
 man, and a virtuous citizen. Wherever ye 
 see a total misapplication of talents, there 
 ye find a character entirely the reverse. 
 What may be called the iion-appUcation, 
 exhibits the character of the sluggard, — an 
 intermediate between the former two, but 
 much more nearly related to the last 
 than to the first. As iron unemployed 
 contracts rust, which corrodes and eats 
 into the very substance of the metal, th^ 
 mind of man, if left in a state of inaction, 
 s 
 
258 
 
 is quickly vitiated, contracts languor, dis- 
 content, peevishness, and many hurtful 
 passions that prey upon its peace. If ye 
 will not cultivate the soil, and sow good 
 grain in it, it will require no cultivation, no 
 sowing from you, to make it produce a 
 plentiful crop of useless and noxious weeds. 
 Thorns and thistles it will yield you in 
 abundance. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 printer, Broxbourne, Herts. 
 
259 
 
 Published for BLACK, PARRY, and KINGSRURY. 
 
 1. COLLYER's, (Dr.) LECTURES ou SCRIITURE FACTS, 
 8vo. boards. 12*. 
 
 o, ou PROPHECIES, 8vo. boards. Us. 
 
 3. ou MIRACLES, 8vo. boards. L» the Press. 
 
 4. CRUDEN's CONCORDANCE, New Edit. 4to. boards. 1/. \Gs- 
 
 5. MASON'S SELF-KNOWLEDGE, Foolscap 8vo. boards. 5«, 
 
 6. NEW MANUAL of DEVOTION, 12mo. boards. 5*. 
 
 7. TALIB's REMARKS on DAVID LEVI, 8vo. boards. 6s. 
 
 8. WEST ou the RESURRECTION, 8vo. boards. 10^. 6d. 
 
 ORIENTAL BOOKS. 
 
 9. ASIATIC ANNUAL REGISTER, (published Annually,) 8vo. 1/. 
 
 10. BRUCE's ANNALS of the EAST-INDIA COMPANY, 3 vols. 
 
 4to. boards. 4/. 10*. 
 
 11. BUCHANAN'S MYSORE and CANARA, 3 vols. 4to. 67. 6s. 
 
 12. DANGERS of BRITISH INDIA, by D. HOPKINS, Esq. 8vo. 7*. 
 
 13. DUDLEY'S METAMORPHOSES of SONA, 12iuo. boards. 6s. 
 
 14. EAST-INDIA REGISTER for 1812. 12.no. 8*. 
 
 15. V.J^DE MECUM, or a Coibplete Guide for Gentle- 
 men intended for the il'wW, Military, or-Medical Department 
 of the East-Iudia Company, by Capt. THOMAS WILLIAM- 
 SON, 2 vols. 8vo. boards. " 1/. 6*. 
 
 16. GILCHRIST'S BRITISH-INDiX MONITOR, 2 vols. 8vo. bds. 4/. 
 
 17. STRANGER'S GUIDE. 9a. 
 
 18. . HINDOOSTANEE DICTIONARY, 4to. boards, 
 
 4/. 145. 6d. 
 
 19. GLADWIN'S GULISTAN, in Persian, 8vo. boards. 16*. 
 20. in Englhh, 8vo. boards. 10*. 6d. 
 
 21. HOPKINS'S PERSIAN VOCABULARY, boards. 1/. 16*. 
 
 22. JONES'S PERSIAN GR.\MMAR, 4to. boards. 48*. 
 
 23. RICHARDSON'S PERiilAN DICTIONARY, by Dr. WILKINS, 
 
 2 *ols. 4to. boards. 12/. 12*. 
 
 24. WILMOT's SCRIITURE LEXICON, in .-//at/c-, 4to. boards: l/.l*. 
 
^■^^^ 
 
 ]^^^^^^*^- 
 
 c>5«^flte> 
 
 C3iii^--' .-J3fc->;Sk':a 
 
 w% 
 
 W-^^ 
 
 *S«1^' 
 
 1f^;- 
 
 
 -^^3^?^>