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 Princeton, N- J. 
 
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 t\ * Casr^ Division 
 
 
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 ^TT/^J 1 ^^ ^- //y%c^/^y'^ 
 
 ^^/C_- ,f^^ /^ 
 
SERMONS 
 
 F 
 
 O N 
 
 VARIOUS SUBJECTS. ;< "" 
 
 BY THE LATE * '^ ^ 
 
 JOHN FAR QJJ H A R, M. A. ^^ 
 
 MINISTER AT NiGG. 
 
 
 CAREFULLY CORRECTED FROM THE AUTHOR's V^ 
 
 MANUSCRIPT, BY ^? 
 
 GEORGE CAMPBELL, a D. K: 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF MARISCHAL COLLEGE; 
 
 AND 
 
 ALEXANDER GERARD, D. D, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN KING'S COLLEGE, 
 
 ABERDEEN. 
 
 THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND. 
 
 MDCCLXXXII. 
 
 \ 
 
'' 1 
 
ADVERTISEMENT, 
 
 1 T will not be improper to acquaint the reader, 
 that the author of the following fermons did not 
 compofe them with a view to their publicatiori. 
 So far froni it, that the greater part of them had 
 been fo haflily written, that the copies were in 
 many places fcarce legible, and fome of the beft of 
 them in the judgment of the publilhers, which 
 they could not refufe a place in this coUedlion^ 
 either had been left unfinilhed at firft, or have 
 been mutilated fmce by accident. Thefe however 
 they chufe to lay before the public, in the condi- 
 tion in which they found themi, rather than by 
 fupplying fuch defeds, to ufe what they thought 
 an undue liberty with their deceafed friend, whofe 
 manner and fentiment were very much his owri. 
 The only merit they claim is the arrangemeilt of 
 them, and the corredion of fome trifling negli- 
 
 A 2 gences 
 
[ iv ] ■ 
 
 gences in the language. Whether they have done 
 right in pubhfhing them, the pubhc itfelf will 
 judge. The heft apology they have to offer, is 
 their own perfuafion that thefe difcourfes, with 
 all their imperfections, have great merit, and may 
 be of confiderable ufe. 
 
 Mr. Farquhar's chara6ler they need not 
 here atttempt to delineate. To the judicious and 
 attentive reader fuch an attempt would be unne- 
 cellary. He will difcover it in thefe volumes 
 very ftrongly marked. Never did any performance 
 exhibit a more genuine tranfcript of the difpofi- 
 tion and fentiments of its author, than this does 
 of the difpolition and fentiments of that valuable 
 and amiable man. It is much to be regretted, 
 that it had not the advantage of his own corredion 
 and review. But as it is, and with all the ine- 
 quality in refpedof compofition, that may be ob- 
 ferved in thefe fermons, a good judge will not be 
 at a lofs to difcern in the preacher an eminent 
 clearnefs cf apprehenfion, corrednefs of tafte, a 
 lively imagination, and delicate fenfibility to all 
 the fineft feelings of wliich human nature is fuf- 
 ceptible. 
 
 CON- 
 
c o 
 
 
 T E' 
 
 ^^K:Sv''"' 
 
 S E R M O N I. 
 
 I T H E S S . V. I 6. 
 
 Rejoice evermore. Page i. 
 
 S E R M O N IL 
 
 John xv. 15. 
 Henceforth I call you. not Jervants^ for the fervant 
 knoweth not ivhat his Lord doth : but I have called 
 you friends. P. 21. 
 
 SERMON IIL 
 
 2 Kings viii. 13. 
 And Hazael faid^ But what^ is thy fervant or dog^ 
 that hejhould do this great thing ^ P. 35, 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 Ac T s xxiv. 25. 
 And as he reafoned of righteoufnejs^ temperance., and 
 judgment to come^ Felix trembled. P- S^- 
 
 .S E R M O N V. 
 ' *T s A L M Ixxiii. 28. 
 But it is good for me to draw near to God. P. 67. 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 MATTHEWXXii. 37, 38. • 
 
 Jefus f aid unto him., Thou /halt love the Lord thy God 
 v^ith all thy heart., and zvith all thy foul., and with 
 
vi G O N T E N t S. 
 
 allthj mind. This is thejirji and great commands 
 mmt. P. 85- 
 
 SERMON Vil. 
 
 Matthew xxii. 39. ^ 
 
 And the fecondis like unto it^ Ttioujhalt love thy 
 neighhoiir as ihyjelf. P. loi. 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 Colossi A Ns iii. 14. 
 And above all theje t tings y put on charity^ which is 
 the bond ofperje&nejs. P. 115. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 Psalm li. 1 7. 
 The facrijices bf God are a broken fpirit ; a broken 
 and a contrite hearty God, thou wilt not dejpije^ 
 
 P. 131. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 Matthew vii. 24 — 28. 
 
 Therefore^ whojoever heareth theJe jayings of mine;- 
 and doth them^ I will liken him unto a wife man 
 which built his houfe upon a rock : And the raid 
 defcended, and thejloods came^ and the winds blew, 
 and beat upon that A ouje, and it fell not \ for it was 
 founded upon a rock. And every One that heareth 
 theje fay ings of mine, and doth them not, fall be 
 likened unto afoolifh nitm which built his houfe up^^ 
 en the I and: And the rain defc ended, and the floods 
 came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that houfe,- 
 and it fell ', and great was the fall of it. P. 147. 
 
 S E R- 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 S E R M O N XL 
 
 Psalm xxiv. 3, 4, 5. 
 
 fVhoJhall afcend into the hill of the Lord^ and who 
 
 Jkall ftand in his holy place f Hp that hath clean 
 
 hands ^ and a pure heart ; who hath not lift tip his 
 
 foul unto vanity, nor fworn deceitfully. Hefhall 
 
 receive the hlefjfing from the Lord^ and righteouf- 
 
 nefi fromtheGod of his falvation, P. 163. 
 
 SERMON XIJ. 
 
 Luke xv. ii-T-24. 
 And hefaid, A certain man had two fons : and the 
 younger of them f aid to his father^ Father^ give me 
 the portion of good that falleth to me. And he 
 divided unto them his living. And ?7ot many days 
 after ^ the younger fon gathered all together^ a?id 
 took his journey into afar country,, ^c, P. 191. 
 
 SERMON Xlir, 
 Matthew xi. 29. 
 Take my yoke upon you,, and learn of me,, for lam 
 meek and Icnuly in hearty and ye fhallfind red unto 
 your fouls, P. 211. 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 Psalm iv. 4. laft part of the verfe. 
 Commune with your own heart upon your bed,, and 
 beflill, p. 227. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 Luke vii. 36 — 48. 
 And one ofthepharifees defired him that he would eat 
 with him. And he went into the pharifee's hcufe, 
 
 md 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 and fat doimi to meat. And behold^ a woman in the 
 
 city, which was afimier^ whenJJie knew that Jejus 
 
 Jat at meat in the pharijees houje, brought an ala- 
 
 biijier box of ointinent, &c. P. 243. 
 
 SERMON -XVI. 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 36 44. 
 
 Then Cometh Jefus with them unto a place called 
 Gethfemane, and faith unto the difciples. Sit ye 
 here^ while I go and pray yonder. And he took with, 
 him Peter and the twofons ofZebedee, &c, P. 2 ^9. 
 
 SERMON XVII. 
 
 JOH N xix. 30. 
 
 When Jefus therefore had received the Vinegar^ he 
 [aid. It is fni/hed : and he bowed his head, and 
 gave up the ghofi . P. 281. 
 
 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Isaiah liii. 3. 
 He is defpifed and rejected of men, a man of f or rows ^ 
 and acquainted with grief P . 297. 
 
 SERMON XIX. 
 
 I C O R I N T H I A N S xi. 26. 
 
 For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this 
 cup, ye do fhew forth the Lords death till he 
 come, P. 313. 
 
 SERMON XX. 
 
 Acts xx. 35. 
 A7id to remember the words of the Lord Jefus^ how 
 he faid^ it is fiwre bleffed to give than to receive. 
 
 P. 333- 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON L 
 
 i Th E s s. V. 1 6. 
 
 Rejoice evermorek 
 
 iVX ANY of the enemies of religion corifider 
 it as the caufe of a fevere, gloomy and unfocial 
 difpofition. Some of the friends of religion feem 
 to confider it in the fame light. Nothing however 
 can be more unjuft than fuch a judgment, or pro- 
 dudive of worfe effeds. Who would choofe to 
 dwell with fournefs and fe verity \ or what humart 
 creature is able tO refill: the fmile of chearfulnefs, 
 and the voice of joy? If religion were fuch ns it 
 is fometimes repreferited by prejudice, or fuch as 
 the manners of fome men who pretend to be reli- 
 gious, yea, I will add, who have flrong feelings 
 of religion, would indicate it to be, I fiiouid n :t 
 be farprized that it had few votaries, and that 
 men delayed to embrace it till the common feelings 
 of humanity had left them. 
 
 Wherever a religion of this caft has been 
 framed, I am perfuaded it is not the teligion of 
 
 B the 
 
2 S E R M O N I, 
 
 the New Teftament: nor do I think, if it \yctC, 
 that any arguments would be fufficient for efta- 
 blifliing it, or any further reafoning neceffary for 
 overthrowing it. But with regard to that religion, 
 the afperfion, from whatever quarter it has arifen, 
 is entirely groundlefs. Chiiftianity, on the con- 
 trary, is the fource of the beft, the pureft, and 
 the moft permanent joys in human life. Were 
 there nothing more than the exhortation in the 
 text, it wocld neve* be pretended furely that the 
 religion of Jefus forbids all joy and chearfulnefs. 
 And it may be of importance at this time to en- 
 quire into the caufes of that joy which chriftianity 
 encourages and promotes, and to which the apof- 
 tle exhorts us in the text. 
 
 To give a particular account of the nature of 
 that jov which the perfuaiion and pradice of chrif- 
 tianity excites, would be to defcribe the different 
 modifications of rational pleafure and fatisfadion ; 
 a defcription which at prefent I decline. I fhali 
 only obferve, that when I fpeak of this joy, 1 can- 
 not be fuppofed to mean a childifh and laughing 
 levity of difpofition, which may brighten up the 
 countenance, but does no more at befl than play 
 round the heart. I aLvays underhand by it that 
 joy which becomes a man, which conlilis in a 
 chearful but compofed temper, which leaves 
 a perfon open to every gratification that is agree- 
 able in pofrcifion, and afterwards delightful on 
 refieOion. Let us enquire into the caufes from 
 which this joy proceeds. This enquiry, with 
 fom.e reflexions to which it will naturally give 
 
 ©ceafioa 
 
S E R M O N I. 5 
 
 occafion, will be fufRcient fubje<ft for our dif- 
 co'^rfe at this time. Rejoice a/wajs, or ever^r.ore, 
 faith the apoftle. The grounds upon which fo 
 permanent a joy is founded niuft be very perma- 
 nent, and muft be laid deep in the human mind. 
 Let us endeavour as plainly and as diflindly as 
 pofTible to explain them. 
 
 In the firft place : The joy to which a chriflian 
 is called, and which may indeed be reckoned his 
 portion, refults from that virtue and integrity of 
 life which the rules of hisreligion require. 
 
 It might be thought almoft fuperfluous to fhew 
 that the Chriftian religion is intended to make 
 men better or more upright. The gofpel was 
 evidently given to teach us^ that denying iingodli" 
 nejs and worldly lufts^ 'wejhotdd live foberly^ rigkte- 
 oujly^ and godly in this prefent ivorld^. That this 
 is the defign of it, the tendency of its dodlrines, 
 the purity of its precepts, the nature of its mo- 
 tives, the example of its author, fatficiently evince. 
 Some men may be fo corrupt as to try to explaia 
 away this truth : but fcarcely any man can be fo 
 audacious as barefacedly to deny it. 
 
 As chriflianity is thus evidently intended and 
 calculated to make men better, 1 further obferve, 
 that the exhortation in the text is addreffed to 
 ihofe upon v/hom it had this effe^ft. The Thefla- 
 
 -*■ TITUS ii. 12, 
 
 B 2. lonians 
 
4 SERMON L 
 
 lonlans were remarkable for their work of faith ^ 
 their lahour of love^ and their patience of hope in 
 the Lord Jefiis Chnff^. They are recorded as 
 enfamples to all the believers in Macedonia and 
 Achaia ^. Timotheus brings the apofJe good ti- 
 dings of their faith and their charity ; and the 
 text is immediately preceded by an exhortation 
 ever tofolloiv that which is good^ both amofig them- 
 f elves and all men. It is manifeil that exhorta- 
 tions of a general nature can only be applied to 
 fiich as embrace in good earneft the tenets of that 
 fyfiem where fuch exhortations are found. 
 
 Virtue and integrity therefore being efTentials 
 to the charader of a Chriftian, whatever refults 
 naturally from thefe qualities belongs to him. 
 But thefe qualities are the natural fource of in- 
 ward peace and joy of heart. Benevolence, mo- 
 deration, friendfliip, lincerity, from the very 
 conPiitution of the human mind infufe a plealing 
 chearfulnefs and ferenity into the foul. Rancour, 
 violence, enmity, falfenefs, diflurb its tranquillity. 
 They occafion ftorms and tempefls which are al- 
 ways unpleafant, and often difaftrous, Juftice, 
 generofity, charity, are confefTed by an open, 
 compofed franknefs of countenance and manners. 
 Injuftice, cruelty, fufpicion and {lander, are indi- 
 cated by a dark look and difcontented manner, or 
 by thofe tumults of paffion which diftort the face 
 and wring the heart. Temperance and fobriety 
 
 " I THESS. i. 3. ^ VERSE 7. 
 
 bellow 
 
SERMON!. 5 
 
 beftow health and vigour upon their votaries. 
 The contrary vices every one difcerns in the mea- 
 gre and extenuated form of that man who, after 
 innumerable pains and fufferings, is forced, 
 through mere old age, to relinquish life at forty. 
 This, my brethern, is the natural and general 
 courfe of things. Such are the laws imprefled 
 upon our conftitution by that omnipotent Being; 
 who giveth luftre and beauty to the fun, and re- 
 gulateth the wind and the waves. By his ap- 
 pointment, peace and joy are the offspring of vir- 
 tue. In the language of fcripture, the work of 
 right eon fnefs is peace ^ and the effect of right eoiifnefs^ 
 qiiietnefs and affiir'ance for ever ", whereas the 
 wicked are like the troubled fea "when it cannot rejl, 
 whofe waters caft up mire and dirt ^, 
 
 Consider with yourfelves and tell rfie, when 
 was it that you pofTefTed a degree of joy which 
 you can refied upon at this moment with delight ? 
 was it not when you performed fome acl^ion which 
 your confciences approved of and applauded you 
 for ? When is it that you feel a conflid within 
 your ow^n breafts, the fenfations of uneafmefs and 
 difquiet which deprive you of folid fatisfadion, 
 and unfit you for every valuable gratification ? 
 Honeftly confefs the truth. Is it not when any 
 irregular paffion or appetite has got the dominion 
 over yon, and hurries you precipitately to fome in- 
 dulgence which your heart condemns ? upon 
 
 ISAIAH xxxii. 17. '' CMAP. Ivii. 20. 
 
 v/hom 
 
6 S E R M O N I. 
 
 whom do the mongers of horror, remorfc, and 
 deipondency prey ? and who are they that Ihould 
 dread their power, and tremble left they feel their 
 tyranny ? do not thefe monflers dwell in the in- 
 nermoil receffes of the cave of vice ? and does it 
 not require all her forcery to prevent their appear- 
 ance at the very entry of it r On the other hand ; 
 whofe mind is calm and equable like the unruffled 
 ocean ; who can allay the natural thirft of his foul 
 at the fountain of happinefs ? who can trace the 
 footfteps of peace and ferenity, and tread in them ? 
 Is it not the man in whofe mind confcience pre- 
 sides as a judge, whofe life it regulates as a guide, 
 the periods of whofe exiftence are filled up with 
 every acfl of equity, meeknefs, charity, conde- 
 fcenfion, and compafTion, which his circumftances 
 require or permit ? Does juftice leave a fting be-» 
 hind it ? or does it occafion a triumph ? does the 
 tear of fympathy, like the tear of difappointment 
 in a vicious purfuit, rankle the foul } or does it 
 not rather compofe and foothe it? does the abfte- 
 mioufnefs of temperance ficken the heart, like 
 the cup of drunkennefs ? do the gifts of generofity 
 produce thofe anxieties which ever prey upon the 
 avaricious ? 
 
 Take the matter in another light. Did you 
 ever dwell in the houfe with any man who was 
 unjuft, or malicious, or envious, or debauched; 
 and could you fay of fuch a man, that you gene- 
 rally found him chcarful, ferene, and happy ? 
 that the day flowed on with an equal tenor, and 
 llut lie faw morning, noon, and night wuth the 
 
 fame 
 
SERMON I. 7 
 
 fame temper ? (I fpeak at prefent merely as to 
 this world, and a man's immediate feelings.) It 
 is impolTible in the nature of things. V/ho are 
 they that moft evidently difplay their ferenity and 
 chearfulnefs to their fcrvants, their domefiics, 
 their dependants, and their connections ? Is it not 
 the virtuous and the temperate ? Hail facred Vir- 
 tue, thou parent of peace and joy ! let me ever 
 ^bow at thy ihrine, and ever venerate thy 
 power. 
 
 I DERIVE, therefore, the firft caufe of that joy, 
 which the religious pofTefs, from their conforming 
 to the laws of virtue and integrity, which are 
 the laws of their nature. A machine cannot 
 move eadly if fome of the principal fprings are 
 weakened or obftruded. An inferior animal can- 
 not be happy if its appetite for food is not gratifi- 
 ed, or if it is reftrained from yielding to any of its 
 ftrongeft inflinds. Neither can man, in whofe 
 conftitution the fenfe and approbation of virtue 
 are interwoven by the hand of his Maker, if he 
 gives himfelf up to be the fervant of lin. 
 
 I ENTER at prefent into no laboured or parti* 
 cular difquifition about the nature of virtue. 
 Who does not perceive and feel it ? who does not 
 approve it in his neighbour ? who does not ad- 
 mire it, in the example of Jefus ? whofe heart is 
 not warmed v/iih the inforcement and illuflratioa 
 of it in his precepts and parables ? Alas ! did we 
 but ad fuitable to our knowledge nnd our feelings, 
 
 how 
 
8 S E R M O N I. 
 
 how m?iny faints would there be among us, and 
 how univerfally would happinefs bediffufed! 
 
 But I acknowledge that the joy which a vir^ 
 tuous pradice infpires, if it were all that the 
 chriftian were heir to, would, in the prefent fiato 
 of things, be at the beft but interrupted and 
 imperfctl. The prefent fcene is various and 
 complicated. The natural tendency of things is 
 often obftruded. With refped to human cha- 
 raders and enjoyments, effeds are often obferved 
 that are contrary to what might have been expect- 
 ed. It might bear a difpute whether, if there 
 v\^as no world after this, good fpirits, a healthy 
 conftitution of body, with ftrong propenfities to 
 vice, accompanied with the natural feelings of 
 remorfe when thefe laft are indulged, were not 
 preferable to a fickly frame, with delicate per^ 
 ceptions of virtue, and ardent defires to pradife 
 it, accompanied with all the difappointments 
 which the experience of the world teacheth every 
 man to look for. All the ferenity that virtue can 
 of itfelf beflow may be greatly ruffled by adverfi- 
 ty. It rnay be deflroyed by misfortunes. We 
 may affirm that joy is the firft-born of virtue, and 
 that fhe v/ould in the paradifaical flate have been 
 an infeparable attendant upon her mother, but 
 that the ftorms and tempefts of human life, in 
 this degenerate flate, often difunite thofe who 
 were deligned for perpetual alTociates. 
 
 Again, other creatures feem to be totally oc^ 
 cupied with the prefent hour, and engrolTed by 
 
 the 
 
S E R M O N I. 9 
 
 the particular pains or pleafures which they feel -, 
 but man is a being of a different kind. His hopes 
 and fears, his wiQies and apprehenfions enlarge 
 jmmenfelythe fphereofhis happinefs or mifery* 
 Numberlefs objedi offer themfelves to his contem- 
 plation; and the exercife of his underftanding be- 
 comes a fource of pleafure or pain to him. Suit- 
 able to the dignity and extent of his powers are 
 the inlets of his joys and forrovvs. It is religion 
 alone that is able fully to fupply the former, and 
 alleviate the latter : and attention to this fubjed 
 will convince us that the exhortation, Rejoice 
 evermore^ can only be addreifed with propriety to 
 the perfon who believes in religion. For I would 
 obferve in the fecond place, that a belief in the 
 cxiftence of an almighty, all- wife, benevolent be- 
 ing, and in his righteous government of the 
 world, affords a genuine and rational pleafure to 
 the human heart. 
 
 This belief is the foundation and groundwork 
 of religion. For every one that cometh to Godmiiji 
 believe that he isy and that he is a rewarder of them 
 that diligently feek him ". How com fort lefs fliould 
 we be if we knew neiiher whence we fprung, nor 
 how we are fupported, if we never regarded the 
 hand that beftows our bleffmgs, nor derived con- 
 folation under misfortunes from the refledion 
 that every thing is regulated by unerring wifdom! 
 jf the fun did not illuminate the world, if his 
 
 ^ HE9. vi. 6, 
 
 beams 
 
lo . S E R M ONI. 
 
 beams did not revive and quicken both ther 
 animal and vegetable creation, how dreary a 
 wiidernefs vi^ould this earth appear! But it is 
 the obfrrvation of a heathen, that it would be 
 lefs irkiome and melancholy, if the fun were 
 cxtinguifhed, than if men lived without any 
 thought or perfuafion of a fupreme being and a 
 directing providence. The conlideration of thefe 
 truths elevates the mind, compofes the tumultu- 
 ous, and reftrains the diforderly paffions, and 
 fills the foul with a kind of facred rapture. The 
 Ijord reigneth ; let the earth rejoice^ and the i/les^ 
 thereof he glad'^. Becaufe the Lord God omnipotent 
 ■fctgneth^ let us he ^ lad, and rejoice, and give honor 
 to him **. Such fentirnents correfpond to our na- 
 tural feelings. They do not force their way to 
 the heart, but they meet with an eafy and gratCr- 
 ful reception. In the moft perilous fiate of hu- 
 man life the good man adopts the language of 
 David: God is our refuge and fir ength, therefore 
 will we not fear though the earth he re?noved, and 
 though the mountains he cafi into the mJd/i of the 
 fea, though the waters thereof roar and he trouhledy 
 though the mountains fliake with the f veiling there- 
 of \ Confider the joys of the wicked, and ob- 
 ferve ijpon what frivolous caufes they depend. 
 Their mirth generally arifes from full health, 
 good fpirits, pleafant company, thoughtlefs fecu- 
 rity, much liquor, profperous affairs, and fuch 
 like circumflances. An alteration happens in 
 
 • PSALM xcvii. I." REV. xix. 7.' PSALMxhii. I, 2,3, 
 
 thefe 
 
S E R M O N I. II 
 
 tbefc. Their health is difordered, their pnlfe 
 becomes quick and intermitting, their fpirits flag, 
 their affairs decHne, their friends defcrt them, 
 their confciences are roufed. Such things will 
 often happen. Alas, what palenefs feizes the 
 ruddy cheek! with what alarms do their hearts 
 tremble! what defpondence in the down-cafl: eye ! 
 what tremulous agitation in the feeble joints! 
 They have laid up no provilion for this tremen- 
 dous hour. They never thought that their fun 
 would fet : and he hath withdrawn his beams, 
 and left them in an unknown, bleak and defert 
 country. But tell mc in what ftate of life can a 
 good man be placed," wherein a perfuafion of a 
 fupreme being, and a convidion of his righteous 
 •and wife adminiftration, will not afford him joy 
 and confolation ? In youth and old age, in health 
 and ficknefs, in profperity and adverfity, they 
 are fuitable and fupporting fubjeds of medita- 
 tion. 
 
 In the third place : the reprefentation which 
 religion gives us of the nature of our prefent ftate 
 and of the immortality of our fouls, infufes plea- 
 fure and liope into the mind. Araidii the ftrug- 
 gles of human life, a good man looks forward to 
 a better world with pleafing expedation. 
 
 We are taught by religion, that the prefent 
 life is a ftate of trial and difcipline, that we are 
 placed here to ad a certain part which will be 
 attended with confequenccs of the utmofl: dura- 
 tion and highelt importance. Without the 
 
 knowledge 
 
12 SERMON I. 
 
 knowledge and convicflion of thefe truths, what 
 joy could we exped: to poffefs ? If we were of a 
 ferious and thoughtful temper, and had only hope 
 in this life, we fhould be of all creatures the 
 inoft miferable. On the other hand, the man 
 who fhould run a perpetual round of diffipation 
 and folly, whofe views were not extended beyond 
 llie fleeting term of human life, whofe imagina- 
 tion never foared above that fpot of ground on 
 which he trode, though he might eat, and drink, 
 and laugh, and dance, and be merry, 1 fhould 
 have no hefitation to pronounce that he was yet 
 a ftranger to the pleafures that are worthy of a 
 reafonable being. 
 
 Early in life we are apt to look upon thi» 
 world as ^ very pleafant theatre, upon which w^e 
 may ad a fhort but mirthful part. We are ready 
 to fay, Let us rejoice in the d?iys of our youth ; 
 but we have not proceeded far till we meet with 
 many things to make us fober and thoughtful. 
 We perceive an evident difproportion between 
 the pleafures of folly and the powers of a man, 
 find we feek about for fomething to fupport a dif- 
 appointed, doubting, anxious mind. This is on- 
 ly to be found in religion. Religion teacheth us 
 that our bulinefs is important ; but that the pro- 
 per difcharge of it will be attended with the moft 
 beneficial confequences. It difcovers that there is 
 a part allotted us fuitabie to our faculties, and an 
 exercife worthy of that nature which is beftowed 
 on us. Under thefe views we cannot fold our 
 hands in idlenefs, nor weep becaufe we have no- 
 thing 
 
S E R M O N I. ij 
 
 thing to do. Religion, whilft it confecrates a 
 regular, decent and inoffenfive behaviour, pre- 
 fcribes the worthieft employments, as a fuitabie 
 exertion of our immortal powers. It difpofeth us 
 to receive profperity with that fedate and manly 
 complacence which favourable circumftances are 
 calculated to promote. It infpires a fortitude of 
 fpirit which enables us to fuftain the affaults of 
 adverfity. The contemplation of immortality 
 makes us regardlefs and almoft forgetful of the 
 pains that we fufFer in our journey to it. It 
 adminifters the befl: confulation under thofe dif- 
 treffing circumftances which every man, who 
 thinks at all, mufl exped to meet with. I have 
 in my eye at prefent the lofs of friends, of chil- 
 dren, of connexions endeared by a thoufand ties. 
 Such loffes are, and from the nature of things 
 .muft be, very frequent in the world. To part 
 for a time is tolerable. But ah ! to part for ever, 
 if this were the confequence of death, I Ihould 
 think of it with diftradion. 
 
 The perfuafion of Immortality, and the belief 
 of a refurredion, were topics of joy and confola- 
 tion, with the force of which the firft chriftians 
 ' were well acquainted, and they often apply them. 
 It is the confideration of thefe dodrines that the 
 apoflle Paul, in the fourth chapter of this epiftle, 
 inculcates upon the Theffalonians. After infift- 
 ing upon them with great energy, he concludes in 
 this manner, IVherefore comfort Ofie cwothcr ivith 
 
 thefe 
 
14 S E R M O N I. 
 
 thefe words '\ I think it impoffible for any perfon 
 to read our Saviour's difcourfe relatins; to this 
 fubjeft, in the beginning and latter end of the 
 fourteenth chapter of John's gofpel, without feel- 
 ing a mixture of complacence and melancholy 
 highly delightful to the heart. 
 
 Upon the whole, I fubmit to the decifion of 
 every ferious hearer, whether the belief of a pow- 
 erful wife and merciful governor of the world, 
 the profped of a happy immortality, and an uni- 
 form pradice of righteoufnefs, arc not juft and 
 fufFtcient caufes for producing an habitual joy and 
 fatisfadion in a man's mind ; whether they are 
 not naturally calculated for banifhing gloom and 
 difcontent, and for promoting chearfulnefs. I 
 fcarcely think that any man can deny that they 
 are. There does not appear to me to be any re- 
 finement in this reafoning. I have avoided con- 
 fidering any thing of a curious and fubtle nature, 
 as the caufe of the joy which we receive from 
 chriftianity, becaufe, though fome fuch things 
 might be fpecified, they are only partial caufes, 
 and do not extend to the generality of chriftians ; 
 whereas tjie confiderations which I have pointed 
 out are of univerfal influence. 
 
 I MIGHT have confidered the peculiar do£lrines 
 of chriftianity, fiich for inftance as the facrifice of 
 Chriftj the promife of the Spirit, the refurredion^ 
 
 ^ VER. i8, 
 
 of 
 
S E R M O N I. 15 
 
 of the body, the appointment of our Saviour to 
 be judge of the world, the condefcenfion, and 
 charity, and meeknefs of his charader, as jure 
 fources of chriftian confolation and delight: but 
 fuch a detail could not at prefent have been enter- 
 ed upon, and I apprehend that every perfon v^-ill 
 be fenlible, that though theie dodrines are difTe- 
 rent, and that the pleafure ariiing from the con- 
 Hdcration of them admits of different modilicati- 
 ons, yet there are fome general ends which they 
 all have in view, and fome common principles b}^ 
 which they augment the joy of our minds. For 
 inftance, does not the dodrines of the fatisf^dion, 
 of the refurredion, of the appointment of Jefus as 
 the judge of the world, and the recolledion of his 
 charader, ail confpire in producing thefe confe- 
 quences, to afcertain us of the placability and 
 favour of God, and to ftrengthen our faith in a 
 happy immortality P The dodrine of the divine 
 affiftance is certainly mofl comfortable. But is it 
 not chiefly felt, if I may fay fo, when the dodrine 
 is realized, when the Spirit operateth upon the 
 minds of men in engaging them to bring forth 
 the fruits of righteoufnefs, piety, charity, and in 
 confirming their hopes of eternal happinefs ? 
 Thus I have all along had refped to thefe doc- 
 trines as the principal foundations of our joy. 
 Let us now attend to fome reficdions which na- 
 turally arife from what has been faid. 
 
 Im the firft place: is it not plain that we ought 
 to confider rchgion as our befl friend, and the 
 iburce of our trueft and molt permanent joy ? 
 
 l£ 
 
j6 S E R M O N L 
 
 If we arc Grangers to its power and iirfiueliccf^ 
 we muft be ftrangers to the noblell and moft 
 fubftantial picafures of human life. For I would 
 aik any man, what pleafures he can compare 
 with thofe refulting from a welUgoverned mind^ 
 and a right-regulated pradice, from the contem- 
 plation of Him who js the fountain of all excel- 
 lence, from the profped of dwelling for ever w'ith 
 God and with Jefus Chrift, of enjoying an eter- 
 nal ferenity, undifturbed by thofe calamities and 
 dangers to which we are here expofed, uninter-* 
 ruptcd by thofe doubts and mifgivings, which 
 here deprefs us, unobfcured by that ignorance 
 and darknefs which we here lament ? Tell m.e, 
 ye who know the human heart, ye who gene- 
 roufly feel for the w^oes of others, ye who exult 
 in the happinefs of your neighbour, tell me in 
 what light you confider thofe who would ravifh 
 from mortals fuch folacing and elevating joys ? 
 are not thefe the men to whom the wo pro- 
 nounced by our benevolent Redeemer is juftly 
 applicable, /^^o unto you Scribes atid Pharifees^ for 
 you neither go into the kingdom of heaven yourf elves ^ 
 nor fuffer them that are entering to go in ^. 
 
 But the pleafures of the world will flill allure. 
 And by engaging our minds to entertain a juft 
 value for thefe that have been juft nov^r mentio- 
 ned, muft ^ve facrifice the reft ? muft we banifh. 
 fecial mirth, renounce agreeable company, and 
 
 ^ MATT, xxiii. 13. 
 
 relinquiih 
 
S E R M O N I. 17 
 
 helinqnifh every innocent diverfion ? Where, my 
 brethern, the ncceiTity for this? Shall men be fo 
 foohfli as to fuppofe things to be incompatible, 
 which, from their very nature, can never be 
 Well reliihed but when conjoined ? For my 
 part, I believe that no man ever exited whofe 
 mind was folely and for ever occupied with the 
 concerns of virtue and religion, important as they 
 are. Such a temper is incompatible with huma- 
 nity. But is the perfon worthy the name of a 
 man, whofe life is wholly taken up with mirth, 
 company and diverfion ? If the things of this 
 world and of the next were properly tempered to- 
 gether, do you reallythink we (hould be lofers as 
 to our pleafures or our dignity ? Do you really 
 think that a virtuOu^ and religious man will re- 
 ceive lefs pleafure in company, or at a feafl, in 
 any public or private amufement, becaufa he is 
 virtuous and religious ? I know the grounds upon 
 . which fuch an opinion flands ; mere mifapprehen- 
 fion, weak reafoning, and partial obefervation. 
 I will only at prefent appeal to fa6t. Do ye not 
 know fome of the very beft and mofi: pious of 
 your acquaintance, that enter with proper reliili 
 into all the genuine and -untainted pleafures that 
 refult from the various incidents of human life? 
 they do not indeed fpend all their time in thefe. 
 But in this they are nOt true followers of pleafure ? 
 how irkfome does perpetilal purfuit, and rciteratecT 
 enjoyment render thefe things ! how foon do they 
 pall upon tlie fenfe, and wear out the appetite ! 
 how lliamefully do thev degrade the foul, and 
 Nlink the charaAer ! Give tlvjm their juft room, 
 ^ C and 
 
i8 ; SERMON I. 
 
 and I acknowledge them, I feel them agreeable : 
 Exalt them to a place they do not merit, and their 
 littlenefs becomes confpicuons. Let ns therefore 
 hold fafl our integrity ^', and the profejpon of our 
 faith without wavering ^ ; perfuaded that by fo do- 
 ing, we adhere to our beft intereils. 
 
 In the fecond place : We may difcern the im- 
 propriety of coniidering religion as fevere, gloomy, 
 and unfriendly to human delight. Reprefentations 
 of this kind are frequent ^ but they are unjuft and 
 pernicious. That they are unjull appears from 
 the tenor of the prefent difcourfe : and that they 
 are pernicious can fcarcely be difputed. 1'ruth 
 and utility are generally fuppofed to be coincident : 
 and in the prefent cafe, experience fufficiently 
 confirms the maxim. A m.ore effedual method 
 could not be devifed to prevent the fpread and in- 
 fluence of religion. A very elegant WTiter, w^ho, 
 though no profeffed divine, has done elTential 
 fervice to religion, illuftrates this obfervation very 
 agreeably by a fimilitude draw^n from fcripture 
 hiftory. " Thofe," fays he, " who reprefent 
 " religion in an unamiable light, are like the 
 " fpies fent by Mofes to make a difcovery of the 
 " land of promife^ when by their reports they dif- 
 " couraged the people from entering upon it. 
 " Thofe who fnew us the joy, the chearfulnefs, 
 " the good humour that naturally fpring up in 
 " this happy ftate, are like the fpies bringing 
 
 *^ JOB xxvii. 5, 6. ^ HEB.x. 25. 
 
 " along 
 
S E R M O N I. 19 
 
 " along with them the clufters of grapes and de- 
 *' licious fruits that might invite their companions 
 " into the country that produced them/' If we 
 would wifh to recommend rehgion, it is but jul^ 
 tice to it to exhibit it in the form that is moft apt 
 to win and engage. If we conlider the character 
 of our Saviour, it is full of the moil amiable, gen- 
 tle, and engaging virtues. The ftrong and perpe- 
 tually prefent imprefTion of divine things which 
 was upon his mind, made it natural that he 
 fliould not enter warmly into thofe fcenes that are 
 calculated for giving innocent pleafure and enjoy- 
 ment to ordinary mortals. But he was fometimes 
 prefent at them. He expreffed no difapprobation 
 of them ; and the whole complexion of his life 
 fhews a mod exalted purity without any mixture 
 cf forbidding aufterity. Bleffed be God we live 
 in an age when the Sincerity of our religion will 
 not be eftimated by the demurenefs cf our look, 
 or the fullennefs of our demeanour. Let us ihew 
 it by more fubilantial and lefs equivocal marks ; 
 by an uniform integrity and that general good 
 temper which is not merely confiitiitional, but de- 
 rived from a clear confcience and a fervent faith. 
 
 Thirdly : Let the confideration of the joys 
 which true religion permJts, determine us more 
 ftrongly againft all unlawful pleafures. Our duty 
 and-our^intereft are flrongly conneded together. 
 If we view things foberly, we have the g^reatefJ: 
 reafon to be thankful that God has allowed us fo 
 many caufes of joy and rejoicing. To defire more 
 difcQvcrs the higheft ingratitude. We are in fome 
 
 C 3 meafure 
 
20 S E R M O N I. 
 
 meafure ftill in the condition of our firft parents* 
 We have a great variety of enjoyments left us. 
 Iilftead of the fruit of one tree that was forbidden 
 them, there are indeed many which we are prohi- 
 bited to tai^e. If we venture on them notw^th- 
 llanding, the confequence will be the fame. We 
 fhall feel compunction and remorfe incomparably 
 iironger than all the delight we can derive from 
 them. Let us therefore reiiit all folicitations and 
 enticements to that which is evil. Let a fenfe of 
 duty, the feelings of gratitude, and frequent re- 
 flexion upon our enjoyments, excite us to main- 
 tain an equal and uniform luftre of virtue and reli- 
 gjion. Inftead of Wantonly defiring to range 
 through the field of unlimited indulgence, let us 
 confine ourfelves within the circle of virtuous gra^ 
 tification. Thus, my brethren, our lives fhall be 
 happy, our deaths ferene, and Cfur immortality 
 glorious. 
 
 .5 Elt. 
 
SERMON IL 
 
 John xv. 15. 
 
 Henceforth I call ye not fervants \ for the fervant 
 knoiveth not what his lord doth : but I haroe called 
 you friends, , 
 
 1 H E different cireumftances of men in fociety, 
 with their different connexions and views, afford 
 juft reafon for their obferving a different kind of 
 condudt ill relation to one another, Diftance, 
 yeferve, and a partial opening of the heart are 
 very proper on lb me occalions ^ and though we 
 have an undoubted claim to every inftancs of 
 humanity from all thofe who (hare the fame na- 
 ture with ourfelves, it does not follow that we 
 have the fame title to require or exped their 
 familiarity and friendfhip. To give thefe their 
 true value, they mufl be a voluntary offering, and 
 proceed from a deliberate determination of the 
 will. If this were not the cafe, and if all men 
 w^ere to be treated in the fame manner, familiarity 
 and friendlbip v/ould be terms quite unknown, 
 and one general word woukl fuihciently denote 
 that uniform qffedion wliich would equally be 
 
 due 
 
22 S E R M O N 11. 
 
 due to the whole fpecies. But the diftlndion 
 that has now been mentioned is evidently well 
 founded ; and our Saviour had it in his eye when 
 he uttered the words of the text. Henceforth I 
 call you not Jervants ; for the fervant knoweth ?iot 
 what his lord doth ; but I have called joufn'c?ids. 
 
 Our divine mafter, when he entered upon his 
 public miniilry, had feleded a few followers to 
 w^hom he gradually difclofed the defign of his 
 miffion, and revealed the doctrines of falvation. 
 In proportion as their minds were enlightened and 
 expanded by the force of divine truth, he pro- 
 ceeded to open up to them the fecret things of 
 the kingdom of God, and accompanied his com- 
 munications with every inftance of finccre and 
 affedionate attachment. .To leave upon their 
 hearts the mofc lading imipreflions of his condef- 
 cenfion and goodnefs, he even difdains not to 
 fubmit to a fervile oiEce in their favour, and adds 
 the moil tender affurance, that he acknowledges 
 his connexion with them, as arifing not merely 
 from authority, but from friendship. Henceforth 
 I call you not jervants^ but I have called you friends. 
 From this time forward I confider you not in the 
 light of diflance and fubjedion. but as conncded 
 with me by much nobler and more endearing ties, 
 even thofe of friendship : and confequently as 
 havina; a right to all the marks of the moft cordial 
 regard, and obliged to all the inftances of duty 
 and affedion which this relation merits and re- 
 quires. What was faid immediately to the Apof- 
 tlcs, and applied in a particular manner to them, 
 
 extends 
 
SERMON II. 23 
 
 extends in a certain degree to every good chriftian, 
 and is delivered for the inftrudion and comfort of 
 all fiich. And I have made choice of thefe words 
 at this time, as furnifhing proper fcope for a dif- 
 coLirfe on the advantages refulting from that inti- 
 mate relation into w^iich our Saviour thus conde- 
 fcends to receive his followers, 
 
 I HAVE no doubt but the apoftles and firfl 
 difciples of our Lord, who were admitted to the 
 freefi and fulleft perfonal intercourfe with him, 
 muft have had a fenfe of the importance and 
 felicity of that intercourfe fuperior to what almoit 
 any chriftian can no.w attain. Perhaps (imilar 
 feehngs indulged by us in the very fame degree 
 to which the natural principles of the mind, and 
 the peculiar circumftances of the times would 
 carry them in the cafe of the apoftles, might in 
 fome refpe^is be confidered as proceeding from a 
 fpirit of enthuliafm, which, though it may be 
 frequently amiable, is alfo frequently dangerous. 
 But we are to remember, as a counterpoife to the 
 happinefs of the apoilles, that they were called 
 forth to the moft uncommon trials of their faith 
 and patience, and that, as they had many diftin- 
 guiflied opportunities of cherifhing the tender 
 feelings of the heart, and of confirming their faith 
 in Jefus, fo alfo tliey were under many peculiar 
 temptations to fupprefs the former, and to re- 
 nounce the latter^ 
 
 The defign of thefe remarks is to introduce an 
 obfervation with regard to the method now pro- 
 
 pofed, 
 
24 S E R M O N n. 
 
 pofed, namely, that in fnrveying the advantages 
 refulting from that relation of friendfnip into 
 which the Son of God admits his followers, I am 
 chiefiv to take notice of ihofe which I believe 
 might occur to a chriftian of a pious and fober 
 turn of mind, whq Ihould fet himfelf at this 
 period deliberately to conlider the fubject, and 
 who fhould be more careful to declare with fim- 
 plicity and ingenuous feelings of the breaft, than 
 to fay things which might furprize, inflame, or 
 excite a powerful, but tranfient extafy. 
 
 In the firil: place I would remark, that thp 
 confcioufnefs of poffeiTmg the friendfhip of one, 
 who difcovered fuch a temper and character as 
 ihone in our Saviour, mult be a fource of very 
 his^h gratification, even abftrading from every 
 confideration of profit with which it is attended. 
 
 There are fome principles, in the truth of 
 which good and bad men are agreed. The fole 
 difference, and indeed it is a very efTential one, 
 coniifts in the application of them. For inflance. 
 That happinefs ou2;ht to be tiie fupreme purfuit 
 of mankind, is univerfally acknowledged. The 
 great quefiion is. How it may be obtained ? No 
 one, I think, can deny that every innocent and 
 virtuous gratification is a natural and jufl objed 
 of our wiflies ; and if the confcioufnefs of our 
 bavins; the friendlhip of a wife and worthy per- 
 fon affords fuch a gratification, it is undoubtedly 
 one genuine fource of happinefs. That a confci- 
 oufnefs of this kind does afiord an innocent and 
 
 virtuous 
 
SERMON 11. 
 
 25 
 
 virtuous gratification, it will not require much 
 attention to be convinced. People who have 
 lived long, and been almoft wholly engrolTed by 
 the objeds of ambition or avarice, are apt to 
 eftimatG every thing by its tendency to parchale 
 power or riches. And fuch men pafs for being 
 wonderfully flirewd, and for having acquired a 
 thorough knowledge of the world. But in truth 
 they have only viewed it in one particular lio'ht : 
 they have confidered men merely as they appear 
 engaged in political or commercial purfuits. But 
 there are very many portions of human life which 
 muft be occupied v/ith other concerns, and other 
 pleafures. 1 appeal to the experience of my 
 hearers, if the converfation or pre fence of a friend, 
 or even the recolledion of his amiable qualities, 
 does not ajlay many griefs, and heighten many 
 joys, even where he is not able to remove the 
 caufes of the one, and has no connexion, as the 
 world is apt to judge of connexion, with the 
 objeds of the other. Is not the fecret workin'^ of 
 providence, which hath united men by m.any other 
 ties befides that of intereft, or the power of pro- 
 moting each others fecular views ? 
 
 Ira good man is confined in a dungeon, the 
 refledlion that he has the approbation and fym- 
 pathy of a virtuous friend under his unjuil fuf- 
 ferings, will have a powerful tendency to fupport 
 him, though he fliould be debarrred from enjo)'- 
 ing his company by the clofenefs of his prifon, 
 the feverity of his keeper, or the diftanceofa 
 thoufand miles : while the wealth of worlds couid 
 
 not 
 
26 S E R M O N ir. 
 
 not fupport a tyrant in the fame circumftances 
 confcious as he muil be that he merits univerfal 
 deteftation. It is a law in the material world, 
 that if one body is put in motion, and ftrikes 
 another, it lofes fo much of the force with which 
 it was impelled, and communicates it to that 
 other. In like manner it is a law in the moral 
 world, that fympathy, either perceived in ano- 
 ther, or refleded on as adually exerted, height- 
 ens our plea fu res, and alleviates our pains. The 
 very knowledge or recolledion of a virtuous 
 friendship, I do maintain it, will pour balm into 
 the feftercd foul, and revive the dejeded fpirit, 
 when gold, that idol of the world, cannot pur- 
 chafe the fmallefl relief or confolation. In exqui- 
 lite pain, incurable difeafe, or the imm.ediate 
 profped of death, riches lofe all their luftre, and 
 the purfuits of ambition, like objeds throv/n at a 
 diftance, appear altogether diminutive. Turn 
 your views to fcenes of this kind, and you will 
 feel the difference between a fplendid apartment, 
 a foft bed, numerous attendants, ikilful phylici- 
 ans, which the worft of men may often command, 
 and the aifeOion and approbation of one virtuous 
 friend. I put the matter ftrongly, becaufe men 
 are often infenfjble to the plaineft truths ; of 
 which clafs I hold this propofition to be one, that 
 the confcioufnefs of poiTeiiing fuch a virtuous 
 friendfliip, abftraded from every external advan- 
 tage it may bring, affords a high gratification to 
 the mind. I need only add, that the more excel- 
 lent the pcrfon is with whom we are connec^fed 
 by this tie, the greater will be the enjoyment 
 
 ariliner 
 
S E R M O N II. 27 
 
 arillng from it. But the charaif^er of Clirlft, 
 conlidered as exhibiting every iieceiTary qualifi- 
 cation for the moft endearing friendihip, is truly 
 ftriking. What mecknefs, what condefcenfion, 
 what humane and generous fcntiments, what 
 tender and affeCiionate feelings did he difplay on 
 a thoufand occafions ! Recollect his lamentations 
 over Jerufalem. Behold his tears at the t6mb of 
 Lazarus. See his beloved difciple leaning on his 
 bofom. Accompany him while he walks with 
 his difciples to Emmaus. Review the hiftory of 
 his whole life. Hear his fublime difcourfes. 
 Attend to his juft, yet mild rebukes. Liiien to 
 the fpirit and fervour" of his prayers, and fay, is 
 it polfible for your hearts to be unaffeded, unin- 
 terefted, uninflamed? that I knrjj "johere I 
 might fi?td him^ that I might come unto him^ even 
 unto his feat °! 
 
 I BELIEVE there are very few readers of the 
 gofpel who vj'xW not allow that the peculiar at- 
 tachment which our Saviour fhewed to John, 
 muft have imparted a very lingular fatisfadion to 
 that diiciple. Confider what conftitutes the real 
 and effential felicity of human nature, and I doubt 
 if ever any one enjoyed fo large a portion of it as 
 this happy man, though he was neither rich, nor 
 powerful, nor flattered, nor gratified in any 
 worldly paflion, nor exempted from the fevereit 
 pcrfecutions. Coufider the ftate of the apoftles 
 
 ^ JOB xxiii. 3. 
 
 in 
 
28 SERMON II. 
 
 in general. The plcafure they had in fitting at 
 the feet of Jefus, and hearing his inftrudions 
 while he remained on earth, and their ardent 
 wifties to be abfent from the boSy^ and prejent with 
 the Lord after his afcenfion into heaven, are not 
 only free from all erroneous enthufiafm, but per- 
 fectly natural, and what every one might expert 
 in their circumftances. I do not fay that the con- 
 fcioufnefs of our Saviour's friendfhip, u^hich is pro- 
 mifed to all his difciples, will ailed us fo power- 
 fully as it did thofe with whom he converfed, 
 who witneifed his living virtues, who faw his 
 face, and heard the gracious words which proceeded 
 out of his iJiouth. Faith muft fall fhort of vifion : 
 but will it have no effed at all ? Or muft not eve- 
 ry well-difpofed mind be deeply fenfible of its in- 
 fluence ? But, my brethren, the pleafure refult- 
 in -^ from a fenfe of the attachment of the moft 
 worthy charader in the world is not the fole or 
 chief advantage proceeding from" the friend.diip of 
 our Saviour. It is attended with the moft benefi- 
 cial eifeds, and exerted in the moft effedual man- 
 ner for procuring and conveying the greateft blef- 
 fuies. 
 
 o 
 
 Friendship is naturally adive. It exerts itfelf 
 in profecuting ufeful plans, and in beftowing a- 
 greeable tokens of its lincerity and ardour. And 
 all that is revealed in the gofpel of Jefus Chrift, 
 and all the great and heroic things that he did and 
 cnduied, are inftances of his love and attachment 
 to liis follovv'ers equally beautiful and beneficial. 
 The dddrines which he inculcated, tending at 
 
 Qtice 
 
SERMON II. z§ 
 
 once to the comfort and to the fandlfication o£ 
 human nature, the precepts which he enjoined for 
 the government of our hearts and lives, the exam- 
 ple which he exhibited of every excellence, the 
 inftitution of his lad fupper, the alTurances of his 
 continual regard and affiftance ; what are they all 
 but fo many fubftantial memorials of the pureft 
 and nobleft friendship? 
 
 Surely the leaft attention to human nature 
 •will fhew that thefe are to be accounted bleffings 
 of the firft importance. They w^iil bear to be 
 tried by every teft, and viewed on every fide. If 
 you confider them as pfodu6live of the mofl: peace- 
 ful and fublime enjoyments ; if you contemplate 
 them as proper to form the minds and manners of 
 youth, to reftrain their impetuofity, to exalt their 
 aims, and to render them both lovely and honour^ 
 able ; as no lefs fit for adminiftering fuDport and 
 joy to declining years ; as engaging men to im-^ 
 prove profperity to tlie w'orthieft purpofes, and 
 helping them to bear afiiidion w^ith a manly firm- 
 nefs ; as adding dignity to the higheft ftations, 
 and rendering obfcurity itfelf illufirious ; muft not 
 their value on all thefe accounts be acknowledged 
 and admired ? Ah, my brethren, what manner 
 of men fhould we be, if the dodrine and example 
 of jefus had their full efied upon us! Of hov/ 
 many fiditious wants fliould we be cured, with 
 what moderation fliould we receive, and with 
 what magnanimity refign what are commonly 
 called the gifts of fortune ? Were the dodrincs 
 of life and immortality deeply impreffed on out 
 
 minds, 
 
$o S E R M ON II. 
 
 minds, the fo much dreaded forms of old age, 
 and pain, and ficknefs, and forrow, to whom we 
 miift pay fome tribute in our way to heaven, 
 though their countenances may be flern, yet would 
 not terrify us greatly. If we live fequeftered in 
 the vale of folitude and poverty, and read and 
 pradife the gofpel, and review the memorials of 
 our Saviour's friendfhip, we fliall look up to the 
 great without either admiration or envy ; and en- 
 ■joying green herbs and contentm.ent, which honeft 
 labour and virtuous exercife have prepared us for 
 tailing with pleafure, we ihall not repine that we 
 do not fliare in the pernicious luxury of the rich. 
 But if the honours and poffeiTions of this world 
 fhould be beftowed upon us, the gofpel, that in- 
 valuable legacy of Chrift to his friends, will teach 
 us to add the true luftre to thefe by untainted inte- 
 2;rity, univerfal humanity, and a defire to feize 
 every opportunity of doing good. 
 
 I MIGHT render the illuflration of this fubje^t 
 much fuller : but what has been faid will be fuf- 
 ficient to evince, that the bleffings I mentioned, 
 when I entered on this topic of my difcourfe, are 
 ofthefirft importance, and that the friendlliip 
 which gives a right to them brings along with it 
 the moft effential advantages. 
 
 The fpirit of the w^orld indeed, foflered by 
 avarice, a fpirit which they w^ho are actuated by 
 it do fometimes blulli to own, fiiggefts an opini- 
 on, that nothing can be an adequate exertion, or 
 infallible evidence of friendfhip, but what contri- 
 butes 
 
S E R M O N ir. 31 
 
 butes in fome way or other to a man's influence 
 or to his figure in life. As if a purple robe were 
 a defence againft pain, remorfe, defpair, or death! 
 or as if riches that are faid, and I believe, often 
 thought to be able to purchafe every thing, could 
 buy the pleafures of a good confcience, an exemp- 
 tion from the flings of a bad one, or a happy exit 
 out of this world, or a right to the tree of life? 
 Te Jimple ones^ how long will ye love Jimplicity f " 
 Ye are wife in the efteem of the children of this 
 world; but liften to the verdid of a more impar- 
 tial jury; let reafori, experience, and infpiration 
 fpeak. Since the creation of the world, mere 
 riches or power could never render a human crea- 
 ture truly great, or truly happy. But I could 
 mention many who are juftly confidered as lights 
 of the world, who, though deflitute of every gau- 
 dy trapping, and without any one of the boafted 
 advantages of life, will Ihine for ever with the 
 luftre of commanding virtue. Think of thofe 
 who had neither ftafF, nor fcrip, nor change of 
 raiment, and of whom the world was not worthy. 
 Where indeed are the people celebrated in the 
 annals of time who do not glory in rewarding the 
 merit of fome of their ancettors .? Refled on thefe 
 and a thoufand things that will occur, and be 
 perfuaded that, in renouncing the vanities and 
 grandeurs which you are too apt to admire, in 
 revealing the dodrines of life and immortality, in 
 exhibiting a pattern of perfed virtue, in offering 
 
 * PRO v. i, 22. 
 
 to 
 
32 S E R M O N II. 
 
 to lead you by his Spirit in the paths of righteouft. 
 iiefs, and in reconciling you to God by his crofs^ 
 your Mafter hath given y6u the moil valuable 
 and durable marks of his friendfhip and regard. 
 
 But to mention a little more particularly one of 
 the mofl: important advantages refulting from the 
 friendlliip of Chrift ; I mean that fecurity and 
 thofe hopiis which it gives a man in the approach 
 of death. 
 
 A wrsE man prepares againfi: many pofUble 
 evils which may never befal him. But how fool- 
 illily improvident it is, not to prepare againft an 
 evil that is certain ? In youth it is wife to make 
 provifion for old age, to lay up in early years the 
 confolations which piety and adive virtue cart 
 procure, to fupport the feeble and tottering fteps 
 of fourfcore. Yet we may never arrive at that 
 period. But death, we are fure, is an event that 
 will inevitably take place. The charms of for- 
 cerers, the hoards of mifers, the {l<ill of phyfici- 
 ans, the ftrength of guards, can neither foothe, 
 nor bribe, nor terrify, nor elude that awful 
 mefienger. How defirable is it" then that we 
 fliould be prepared to meet him v/ith alacrity, 
 and fortitude I Death, my brethern, is naturally 
 a tremendous form, and we Hand in heed of 
 aid when called to encounter it. It will intro- 
 duce us to a new and unknown countrv ; and we 
 ihall ligh for fome friendly condudor to take us 
 by the liand. If in this ftruggle and the fcene 
 that fuccceds it, the father could enjoy the com- 
 pany 
 
S E R M O N II. 53 
 
 pany of his Ton, the hufband the fociety of his 
 wife, and if brothers could lend each other 
 affiftance, it might infpire feme courage. But 
 nature forbids the intercourfe. Yet the chrif.ian 
 who relies on the promifes of Jefus, knows that 
 he iTiall not engage in that ftruggle, nor enter 
 on that fcene alone or unfupporled. JVUe?! he 
 walks through the valley of the Jhadow of death ^ he 
 will fear no evil^ for the Lord, the fbepherd of 
 fouls, is with hiniy his rod and his fla^/hall rom- 
 fort him% RecoHeding the gracious declaration 
 of Jefus, IVhofoever doth the will ofrnyfatier w.o 
 is in heaven^ the fame is mother and filer and 
 brother ^, his fluttering heart is infpired with 
 courage, and elated with hope : he departs in 
 peace to his native land, trufting to the guidance 
 and protedion of his almighty Friend. V/here 
 now are ye, ye gilded profpeds, ye gay delufions, 
 ye pleafing dreams ? - Where now all the boafted 
 fchemes and hopes of the covetous, the voluptu- 
 ous and the vain? Lo! They are vanillied, 
 they are nothing. And a ferene, a happy death 
 is all in all. You cannot deny the dodrine : but 
 do you doubt the power of the fricndfhip of 
 Jefus ? Do you doubt that a confcloufnefs of it 
 is able to confer this compofure, and this felicity? 
 Confult the apoiiles : enquire at the martyrs : 
 recoiled the laft moments of the beft men whom 
 you have known to die in the full exercife of their 
 reafon : Let them bear v/itnefs : to them I appeal. 
 
 *^PSALMXxiii. 4. ^MATTH. Xil. 50. 
 
 D S E R- 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 2 Ki N G s viii. 13; 
 
 And Hazael Jaid^ But ivhaf^ is thy fervant a ddg^ 
 that he Jfiould do this great thing f 
 
 It happened that Ben-hadad king of Syria when 
 he was fick, heard of the prophet Elifha's being at 
 Damafcus. Prompted by a curiofity about the fu- 
 ture that feems natural to man, and anxious to 
 know before-hand the event of his diftemper, he 
 fends Hazael, one of his minifters and favourites, 
 to enquire of the prophet whether he fhould reco- 
 ver or not ? In obedience to his mafter's com- 
 mands, Hazael went td execute his commiffion, 
 and according to the cuftom of thofe days, took 
 along with him a prefent of every good thing of 
 Damafcus. In the mofl: refpedful manner he de- 
 livers his meffage j for he flood before the prophet 
 and faid, Thy Jon Ben-hadad king of Syria hath 
 Jent me to thee^ faying^ Shall I recover of this dif- 
 eafe f The anfwer of EliHla was myfterious, 
 9nd probably not perfectly underftood by Hazael. 
 (f/?, fays the prophet, fay unto him. Thou mayeft 
 
 D % ceriainlf 
 
36 SERMON III. 
 
 certainly recover^ howbeit^ The Lord hathjhewed me^ 
 that he Jhall fiirely die. Then fixing his counte- 
 nance fteadily for fome time, and exhibiting the 
 moft natural and flriking figns of inward emotion 
 and agitation of fpirit, he began to weep. Sur- 
 prized at his tears, Hazael enquired the cault?, 
 and he anfwered in thefe remarkable words, 
 Becau/e I kiiow the evil that thou wilt do to the ciiil- 
 dren of Ifrael-, their Jirong holds wilt thou fet on 
 Jire^ and their young men wilt thou flay with the 
 Jword, and wilt dajh their children^ arid rip up their 
 women with child. Such barbarous and cruel deeds 
 feemed fo fbocking, that in the words of the text, 
 Hazael in the ftrongeft manner expreffes his de- 
 teftation of them. And Hazael faid^ But what., is 
 thy Jervaut a aog^ tiiat he Jliould do this ^great 
 thing'^ 
 
 It does not appear that this anfwer of Hazael 
 was the efFe<fl of hypocrify, or any artful delign 
 to conceal his real fentiments ^ it proceeded from 
 the natural and immediate dictates of his heart. 
 Yet from the atrocious crime he committed the 
 very next day in murdering his mafter, we have 
 no reafon to doubt, that in the war which he af- 
 terwards carried on againft the united armies of 
 the kings of Ifrael and Judah, the prophet's pre- 
 diction was fully accompli (lied. And indeed, 
 when we attend to what paffes in the world, we 
 muft be fcnfible that the cafe of Hazael, though 
 it it may be uncommon in its degree, is far from 
 being fingular in its kind. 
 
 To 
 
SERMON III. 57 
 
 To trace then the caufes of this aftonifhing ig- 
 norance of ourfelves, appears to be a fubjed of 
 very general ufe and importance. When the cau- 
 fes of a difeafe are diftind;ly known, the applica- 
 tion of proper remedies will prove more eafy and 
 more certain. I intend therefore in the following 
 difcourfe, to point out fome of the principal rea- 
 fons upon which the ignorance of wicked men con- 
 cerning themfclves, and the ftrange partiality in 
 their judgments as to thetr future condud:, are 
 foi;ndcd ; and to conclude with a fe\v pradical in- 
 ferences from what is delivered. 
 
 In entering upon my fubjed, I would remark, 
 that ignorance of ourfelves is of two kinds ; Igno- 
 rance with regard to our pafl actions, and igno- 
 rance as to the future condud we (hall maintain in 
 life. Of the firfl kind the fcripture affords us a 
 very remarkable inilance in the cafe of David, 
 who, induced by the ftriking allegory of Nathan, 
 unknowingly palTed the fevereft fentence upon 
 himfelf. But it is ijq;norance of the fecond kind 
 I mentioned, of which there is fo ftrong an exam- 
 ple exhibited to us in the text, which I now pur- 
 pofe to confider. Hazael was fo blind to his own 
 charader, that he believed himfelf wholly incapa- 
 ble of the crimes which he afterwards committed. 
 Whence could this proceed? or how does it hap- 
 pen, that the declaration of men in fimilar cir- 
 cumflances are fo little to be relied upon .'' 
 
 The firft and moft obvious caufe of this igno- 
 rance of man proceeds from the total want of at- 
 tention 
 
38 SERMON III. 
 
 tention to, and reile^lion upon their real charac- 
 ters and tempers. Is it furprifing that a man 
 fhoiild be ignorant cf a fubjed which he has ne^ 
 ver confidered ? Is the meanefl art and employ- 
 ment of hfe to be learned without fome pains 
 and application ? It is needlefs to give a particular 
 inftance in any one profeffion ; for it holds true in 
 every one of them, that before any perfon under- 
 ilands it, he mufl be taught by another, or beftow 
 labour and diligence himfelf. Can w^e expe(ft 
 that the general rule is not to take place with 
 refped to the knowledge of our own minds? But 
 are not a thoufand fubjecfts of lefs utility and im- 
 portance, more the fubje^ls of our refle<5tion and 
 meditation, than our own hearts and tempers? 
 For rendering fubje6ts more plain and intelligible, 
 the ingenuity of men has devifed various me- 
 thods, and thefe methods are attended to by thofe 
 whofe concern it isj but inftead of uiing and ap- 
 plying thofe rules which might be proper and ufe- 
 ful, in order to make us acquainted Vv^ith our- 
 felves, are not moft men more anxious to find 
 out a variety of expedients, by which they may 
 fortify and confirm themfelves in their ignorance ? 
 'Need I point out to you that entire dilFipation of 
 thought, that unremitting purfuitof pleafure, that 
 perpetual levity, which are confidered not only 
 as arts to obtain prefent gratifications, but partly 
 profecuted with the very view I mentioned before, 
 to keep men firangers to themfelves, their tem- 
 pers, and their difpofitions ? Can you name an 
 .enemy that feems more to be an objecft of fear 
 to great numbers than refiedion ? In this fitua- 
 
 tion 
 
SERMON III. 39 
 
 tion it would be next to a miracle, if a man were 
 not ignorant of himfelf. 
 
 I ACKNOWLEDGE that One muft be in fome 
 meafure confcious of what paffes in the mind. 
 The objeds he purfues muft be perceived by him ; 
 he muft feel the paftions he is perpetually endea- 
 vouring to gratify. But thefe are merely fads 
 which he remembers to-day, but forgets to-mor- 
 row. To the generality of men they are like di- 
 viding the waters of a river by your hand •, it is no 
 fooner rem.oved than the ftream joins, and you 
 can difcern no mark where the breach was. For 
 inftance, what courfe of life may we fuppofe 
 Hazael to have led before his interview with the 
 prophet ^ Educated at the court of a powerful 
 monarch, by whofe favour he poftefted a high 
 place, Would it be a fingular cafe, if he had de- 
 voted his whole time to the fundions of his office, 
 and the indulgence of his defires? It had perhaps 
 been frequently a queftion with him, How ftiall I 
 preferve and encreafe my power? but he had 
 probably never afked himfelf. What have I done 
 to difgrace my ftation .? or. How fhall I ad to be 
 worthy of the favour and dignity which I enjoy? 
 Thofe features of his former charader, which 
 might have given a man of penetration caufe to 
 fufped, that in cafe he fhould arrive at fupreme 
 power, he would ad the cruel fcenes which the 
 prophet predided, Hazael himfelf had probably 
 never attended to in any other manner, than as a 
 ■/nan beholding his natural face in a glafs : for he be- 
 liQldctk himfelf and goeth his way, andfiraight-way 
 
 forgetteth 
 
40 S E R M O N Iir. 
 
 forget tcth what 77tanner of 7nan he ivas ^ But even 
 this fupine thoughtleflhcfs and inattention is not 
 the only, nor perhaps the chief caufe why bad 
 men form fo partial a judgment in their own fa- 
 vour, and believe that they are free from the vi- 
 ces >^;hich iurk in feme fecret corner of the heart, 
 and which wait but for a proper feafon to unfold 
 themfelves. 
 
 To account then for this more fully, I would 
 obftrvc^ in the ftcond place, that there is iroplanted 
 in man, a natural abhorrence of that which is 
 evil, and a natural fympathy for the fufferings of 
 others. Tho' we are in a corrupted and depraved 
 ftate, yet in thefe refpec^s we bear the marks of a 
 divine original. The foul of man, which is the 
 workmanlhip of God, is at variance, in its fenti- 
 ments at leaft, with every or. el and bjirbarous 
 adion. Allow the unprejudiced and genuine 
 feelings of the heart to judge, and nature itlelf 
 v/ill not err in applauding the virtuous and the 
 worthy part, and condemning the contrary. If 
 we convey our thoughts back to pail ae^es, and 
 obferve tyrants depopulating kingdoms, and inno- 
 cent fubjetis fuftermg under their rod, does not 
 an honeil: indignation fpring up againft the for- 
 mer, and a powerful fympathy exert itfelf in fa- 
 vour of the latter? By his cruel decree, Herod 
 iiils the Orcets of Bethlehem, and the coai^s round 
 about with lamentation, weeping, and great 
 
 ^ JAMES i, 23, 24. 
 
 mourning 
 
SERMON III. 41 
 
 mourning. Herod, the barbarous deed has devo- 
 ted thy name to infamy thro' all ages ! Ye wretch- 
 ed mothers, while humanity remain;, the tear of 
 pity and of virtue will never be denied as a tri- 
 bute due to your fufferings 1 
 
 Now this abhorrence of evil, and this fympa- 
 thy and forrow for the miferies of others, are not 
 principles which are confined to the virtuous and 
 religious ; they naturally operate upon all. By a 
 feries of wicked adlons the impious try to i^ifle, 
 and to overcome them ; but till they are trampled 
 upon a thoufand times they ar^ not totally extin- 
 guifhed. A filent and" a feared confcience, is not 
 an eafy or fpeedy acquifition. 
 
 When therefore cruel and barbarous a(flions 
 are rcprefcnted unto us, we recoil, as it were, 
 from the thought of them. If the paliions which 
 prompt to them are aileep (and this will often be 
 the cafe with the worft of men) the better princi- 
 ples of our nature refume a fhare of their native 
 vigour, and we cannot perfuade ourfelves that 
 we would really pradife what we fo fincerely ab- 
 hor, or occafion to others thofe fufferinajs which 
 excite our pity to thofe that feel them. Let us 
 obferve whether the cafe mentioned in the text 
 does not confirm this reafoning. Surely to ravage 
 a country with fire and fword, to malTacre men, 
 women, and children, not to relent at the cry of 
 innocence, to fteel the heart againrt the tears of a 
 defencelefs mother, and not to fpare even the 
 helplefs, uncomplaining babe who bad never feen 
 
 the 
 
42 SERMON III. 
 
 the light, are deeds of the utmoil inhumanity. 
 The man who could look forward, and view him- 
 felf as the autlior of thefe, would be more than a 
 monfter. At this time Hazael was removed from 
 every thing that might excite his vicious appetite. 
 In the prefence of a perfon whofe very appearance 
 made him the objed of reverence, he could not 
 but feel the natural rifings of his foul in favour 
 of virtue and goodnefs. In this (ituation was it 
 any wonder, that this man, habitually unac- 
 quainted with himfelf, fhould exclaim againfl 
 his being capable of thofe crimes, the very 
 Flaming of which chill the blood, and overwhelm 
 the foul? Bzit whaty is thy fervant a dog^ that he 
 Jhoiild do this great thifig F By being capable of 
 fo atrocious deeds, I fhould not only renounce 
 the principles of virtue, but the very nature of ^ 
 man. 
 
 In the third place : The partiality which bad 
 men fhow in judging of themfelves, and their 
 ignorance of their real charaders, are partly 
 founded in the nature of vice. 
 
 Vice when it is continued, not only corrupts 
 the heart, but perverts the judgment. By its 
 deceitfulnefs man is hardened againfl: the fenfe of 
 thofe crimes he has already committed, and what 
 is ftranger iliil, while his heart condemns them 
 in others, he continues to commit them himfelf, 
 without being fenfible that he is guilty of them. 
 Vice is the greateft, perhaps the only forcerefs 
 upon the face qf the earth. Thofe who drink 
 
 of 
 
SERMON HI. 43 
 
 of her cup, becoming intoxicated with it, do not 
 perceive objed:s in their true and proper light. 
 Like men infeded with forne difeafei: which con- 
 fer the fame colour upon every thing they look 
 at, the vicious often vieav themfelves, not as 
 they truly are, but through a falfe and deceitful 
 medium which has a power to give a femblance 
 of health to ficknefs, of honefly to corruption, 
 and of reditude to the greateft deformity. 
 
 The fafcination of fm then engaging men to 
 form fo wrong a judgment of the prefent ftate of 
 their temper, and leaving them by a flrange de- 
 lulion in poiTeifion of their natural principles, 
 while they are counterading their dictates ; it is 
 impofiible, but they will be ftill more partial, as 
 to the judgment of their future condud. The 
 principles that have been already taken notice of, 
 combine with the bewitching nature of fin in 
 this cafe to blind their eyes, and to increafe their 
 ignorance. But farther it is to be obferved, that 
 vice is likewife in its nature gradual and progref- 
 five. It is known even to a proverb, that no 
 perfon becomes altogether wicked on a fudden. 
 The intermediate fleps muft be as it were mea- 
 fured before one reaches the fummit. The 
 checks of natural confcience are not retrained at 
 once. Take an Ahab, or a Jezebel, a ManafTes, 
 or a Herod, and the leafl: refle^^ion will convince 
 us that they arrived at the high pitch of wicked- 
 nefs which have rendered them objeds of detefta- 
 tion, only by degrees. Obferve a young perfon 
 at his entering upon vice. The firft crimes he 
 
 commits 
 
44 S E R M O N III. 
 
 commits are gone about with a timid look and 
 trembling heart. He feems to be confcious, that 
 the eye of God is upon him, and that he is 
 ofFering an indignity to his own nature. But in 
 a httle time with lefs remorfe and apprehension 
 than the firft fteps of vice occalioned, he proceeds 
 to daring crimes which he couid not have fiffer- 
 ed himfelf to think of, even for a long time after 
 he was the fervant of fin. Habits of fin, like 
 other habits, require time to form them ; but 
 when rooted, and ftrengthened by a frequent 
 exercife, they totally change the nature, and 
 render us perfectly different creatures from what 
 we were. 
 
 The progrefs of vice may be therefore com- 
 pared to the roiling of a ftone down a declivity : 
 at firft it moves flowly and gently, but before it 
 reaches the bottom it acquires an impetuofity and 
 force that are irrefiftible. Jf you were to view a 
 river at the place of its rife, you will fee a fmall 
 ftream, whofe courfe might be eafily ftoppcd or 
 changed j but as you trace it, it ftill increafes, 
 till it cannot be refirained by the power of man. 
 When Hazael flood before the prophet, he had 
 travelled but a fhort way in the path of vice ; 
 but he neither had the refolution, nor the incli- 
 nation to controul his irregular appetites. Elifha, 
 by the fpirit which dwelled in him, unveiled the 
 future. He pointed out fome of the fcenes 
 which this man was to ad in the fucceeding part 
 of his journey ; but they were too diftant, they 
 were too unlike the pafl, and they depended too 
 
 much 
 
S E. R M O N III. 45 
 
 much upon paflions that were at prefent quiet 
 and dormant, for the perfon himfclf to be fenlihle 
 of them. McKe impartiaHty than can be expect- 
 ed is requifite for a vicious man to judge fairly 
 of his prefent Hate ; but to difcern whether keen 
 defires, violent paffions, an unfubdued fpirit, fit 
 opportunities, and inveterate habits may at length 
 carry him, is almofl impoffible. To acknowledge 
 the pitch of vice to which he may be brought, 
 w-ould be to fiippofe himfelf much worfe than he 
 really is. 
 
 Finally, my brethern, another reafon why 
 wicked men are apt to flatter themfelves with 
 their being incapable of many vices which they 
 afterwards commit, may be difcerned from the 
 nature of temptation. There are a great many 
 of the raoft heinous crimes that man can be 
 guilty of, to which no particular principle or 
 paffion in his nature leads him. To delight in 
 cruelty, is in no fenfe natural to man, and it is 
 but feldom acquired. But this forms no fuffici- 
 ent fecurity againft our committing cruel adions. 
 The feeling no propenfity towards them, but on 
 the contrary an averfion, gives a bias to our 
 judgment, and makes us believe that we fhall 
 be ftained by them : but the danger lies, not 
 from a dired delirc, but from feeing fuch and 
 fuch adions neceffary to obtain certain ends upon 
 which our hearts are fet. The prompter to cruel 
 and barbarous adions is not a love of cruelty ; 
 but the temptation may arife either from unli- 
 mited ambition, uncontrouled lulls, or a thirft of 
 
 revenge. 
 
46 SERMON III. 
 
 revenge. Temptation does not always intrude 
 itfelf^upon us. Till objeds that excite the 
 appetites of wicked men are in fome meafure 
 within their reach, they feldom wifh for the at- 
 tainment of them. In the mean time the paifions 
 •which rule them are as it wxre afleep : they con- 
 ceal themfelves from the view even of thofe who 
 are governed by them. But no fooner is the 
 temptation offered, than they awake with all 
 their fury, and while their fway prevails, plunge 
 the man into excelTes which he could not have 
 believed himfelf capable of committing. 
 
 The man who fuffers one unlawful pafllon to 
 obtain the empire over his heart, has really every 
 thing to fear. He fubmits to the dominion of a 
 tyrant who will bear no refufal, and will never 
 fuffer a command to be difputed. Let us con- 
 fider the cafe of that man whom our text repre- 
 fents to us. 
 
 He was the favourite and minifler of a pow- 
 erful fovereign. To obtain this office had been 
 at firft probably the higheft aim of his ambition. 
 But now he was within one ftep of the throne, 
 his maker's ficknefs opens the profped ; being 
 accidentally left alone with him, the whole force 
 of temptation overwhelms his foul, and the Grown 
 appears ready to fall on his own head. The 
 demon takes full poffeiTion of his heart ; and the 
 man who never before, perhaps in any flagrant 
 inftance, had tranfgrefied the duty of a faithful 
 fubjeifl, now impelled by the \u{\. of power, mur^ 
 
 ders 
 
SERMON III. 47 
 
 ders his benefador and his king. Will dominion 
 thus acquired be felicitous about the juftice of 
 the means by which it niuft be preferved ? or will 
 revenge never actuate the heart which ambition 
 has fo thoroughly corrupted ? Believe it not. If 
 one devil enters, there will be feven ready to 
 follow. What are the lives of a thoufand inno- 
 cent perfons to the man who has never endea- 
 voured to reftrain his ambition, his revenge, or 
 his pride ? The fword of Hazael is unfheathed ; 
 his unlawful paffions impel him ; and the mifer- 
 able inhabitants of Judea feel that all his fenti- 
 ments of humanity arc but weak barriers againft 
 their force. 
 
 Thus I have endeavoured to trace fome of 
 the principal caufes why wicked men are fo 
 ignorant of themfelves, and form fuch a partial 
 judgment with regard to their future condud. 
 Let us now attend to fome of the pradical in- 
 ftrudions which this fubjed affords. In the firft 
 place, we may obferve in general from what has 
 been faid, how folid a foundation is laid in hu- 
 man nature for virtue and religion. They ap- 
 prove themfelves to the natural feelings of men, 
 and whatfoever is contrary to them is naturally 
 hated and abhorred. It is not the language of 
 the good only, How amiable is virtue ! but even 
 the wicked give their teftimony to the fame truth. 
 O virtue! at thy image the worft. muft bow; 
 and while they defpife thy counfel, they muft yet 
 confefs thy authority. In this fituation how 
 inexcufable are they who would deny the differ- 
 ence 
 
48 SERMON III 
 
 ence between virtne and vice, good and evil I 
 On the other hand, let it be ever our care to 
 maintain the rights of the former facred and 
 inviolable. Let that holy religion which beft 
 unfolds its precepts, whofe Author gave a living 
 example of its perfection, whofe rewards, pro- 
 mifes and threatnings are its fu reft and its chief 
 fupports, be ever dearer to us than life itfelf. 
 If not only by the light of nature, but by the 
 clearer light of revelation, we muft be fully 
 fenfible of the beauty of holinefs, let us follow 
 after the pradice of it. But more particularly, 
 I would obferve, from what hath been faid 
 concerning the progrefs of vice, the great danger, 
 and fatal confequences of a firft departure from 
 the paths of integrity. The man who once fuf- 
 fers himfelf to be allured by fin, knows not how 
 far he may proceed. If Jinners therefore entice 
 thee^ faith the wife man, my Jon confe?2t thou not^ : 
 In this cafe a little leaven kaveneth the ivhole lump. 
 Let no perfon give up that which is good and 
 right, prefuming that he will ftop when he 
 pleafes. I prefent you with a pidure at which 
 you ftartle ; yet if you are now initiated into 
 vice, let a few years revolve, and you yourfelves 
 will perhaps be the original. Let me therefore 
 with earneftnefs exhort every one, and young 
 people in particular, in the words of Solomon, 
 Enter not into the path of the wicked^ and go not 
 in the way of evil men. Avoid it^ pafs not by //, 
 
 "^ PROV. i. lO. 
 
 turn 
 
SERMON III. 49 
 
 turn from it^ and pafs away^ . Temptation, my 
 brethren, is powerful; we know not whether we 
 fhall be able to endure it. With fervency of 
 heart then let us offer up that petition which is 
 enjoined by our Mafler, who knew the heart, 
 its weaknefs and its feeblenefs ; Lead us ?2ot i?iio 
 temptation ^. 
 
 Lastly : from whnt has been faid, we may 
 fee the ncceillty of cndeavourin2;'to conquer eve- 
 ry irregular and unlawful appetite. The train of 
 vices, which one evil paflion m?iy lead us into, 
 may be vaiily great. Not only arc we liable to 
 thofc which have ,that paflion for their objedi, 
 but to a variety of others which may appear as 
 means neceflary in order to obtain its a;rati6cation. 
 A city may be betrayed by one fecret enemy, as 
 well as by a thoufand. Beiidcs, my brethren, tlie 
 fa(fl is, that our fins and our follies proceed more 
 from one principal pafTion than from a variety of 
 lefTer ones. This ruling paliion is commonly the 
 fource of mofi of our errors ; let us endeavour 
 thoroughly to fubdue it. I conclude my difconrfe 
 in the words of the apofile. Let us therefore lay 
 a fide every weighty and the fin that dothfo ea/i'y be- 
 Jet us^ and let in run with patience the race that is 
 Jet before us^ looking unto Jejus^ the autlior and tie 
 finifl:er of our faith ^ , 
 
 ^PROv. iv. 14. ^MAT.vi. 13. ^HEu.xii. I. 
 
 
 Iv- 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 Acts xxIv. 25. 
 
 And as he reafoned of right eoiifnefs^ te77iperance and 
 judgment to come^ Felix trembled . 
 
 JD R0A4 the precedinsj part of this hiflory we 
 learn that the Jews entertained a mofl violent en- . 
 mity againft Paul, becaufe they apprehended that 
 he had an intention of deftroying the whole fabrick 
 of their law and polity. As foon as they knew 
 of his being at Jerufalem, they laid hold on him, 
 and having obtained leave from the chief captain 
 to fcourge him, they bound him with tnongs, 
 and were preparing to execute the f ntence, 
 when the apofde claimed the privilege of a 
 Roman citizen. By this means he was delivered 
 from the open effects of their malice ; but intent 
 on his deftru6tion, they entered into a fecret 
 combination againil his life. Paul having; been 
 informed of this by his fifter's fon, defired him 
 to go to Lyfias, and to make the matter known 
 to him. Upon being informed of the plot, Lvfias 
 fends him under a flrong guard to Cefarea, to be 
 examined by Felix the Roman trovernor. The 
 E 2 charaifter 
 
52 SERMON IV. 
 
 character of Felix, from the befl accounts we 
 have of him, is Ihortly this. He had paved his 
 way to his prefect power by feveral intrigues, 
 and the favour of fome retainers to the court of 
 Rome, at that time the mod corrupted and 
 vicious. He had been very adive in the punifli- 
 ment and fuppreflion of robberies, which were 
 then very frequent in Judea ; and this gave 
 occafion to the encomium of Tertullus in the 
 beginning of his oration. But he had been 
 guilty of the groffefl: partiality, and the moft 
 fcandalous violations of juftice in many inftances, 
 and of a moi^ inhuman murder in the cafe of 
 Jonathan the high-prieft. At the period to which 
 our text refers, he alfo lived in an infamous 
 commerce with Drufilla, w^hom he had feduced 
 to leave her lawful hufband, and to remain 
 with him. 
 
 Before this man Paul is brought to anfwer 
 for himfelf, and an accufation having been pre- 
 ferred againfl: him by Tertullus, whom the high- 
 pricil and elders had employed for this purpofe, 
 lie delivered liis defence witli fuch fortitude, 
 magnanimity and force, that though Felix could 
 not refolve to acquit him, yet he ordered feveral 
 indulgences to be fliewn him in his confinement, 
 and left him with fome curiofity to hear him 
 again more fully concernins; that eaufe V\'hich 
 had occaiioned his imj)ri{bnment. Accordingly, 
 n few days after, he fends for him, that he him- 
 ielf together with Drufilla, might receive fome 
 information concerning the dofirine of Chrifi:. 
 
 It 
 
SERMON IV. 55 
 
 V 
 
 It was at this time that the apoftle, among 
 other articles of the chriftian faith, inlifted parti- 
 cularly on thofe, which might molt readily touch 
 the governor's confcience and lead him to repen- 
 tance and amendment ; on the indif])enlible ne- 
 ceffity of obferving the rules of juftice and 
 righteoufnefs ; of fubmitting ourfclvcs to the laws 
 of temperance and fobriety ; and on the certainty 
 of that final judgment, wherein a retribution will 
 be awarded according to our deferts. Upon thefe 
 fubje<fls he fpoke with fuch energy and power, 
 that the governor was alarmed, and agitated by 
 the violent emotions of fear and remorfe. Afid as 
 he reafo7ied of righteoufncfs^ temperance^ and of 
 jiidzvient to come, Felix trembled. 
 
 From this portion of facred hiftory I intend to 
 deduce fome refledions, which may, by the blef- 
 fing of God, have a tendency to reclaim us froiij 
 iniquity, or eilablifh us in religion and virtue. 
 
 In the firft place, I obferve from this pafTage, 
 that God has difcovered to us, by the immediate 
 information of our own minds, fome of the mod 
 eifential parts of our duty and obligations. Paul 
 properly fpoke before Felix concerning rigliteouf- 
 ncfs and temperance, and appealed to his own 
 mind for the conviv^tion of the indifpeniible obli- 
 gation of thefe virtues. The fime apoftle tells us 
 in another place, God hath not left htmjelf wiihctit 
 nnjitnefs ^ at any time ; and that the Gentiles ivhich 
 
 ^ ACTS xiv. 17. 
 
 Iiave 
 
54 S E R M O N IV. 
 
 have 7iot the law^ immediately delivered from hea- 
 ven, thefe liavwg iwt the hiw^ are a la^jo unto them- 
 Jelves^ their confcience alj'o hearing 'witnefs^ a?id 
 their thoughts inc'^nwhile accitfnig or elfe exctifing 
 one ar.otker ^. The great rules for the regulation 
 of lifs and manners are not left for the fabjeds of 
 deep enquiry and abftrufe refcarches, but by the 
 finger of God himfelf they are imprinted on onr 
 minds in the moft le<rible charaders : for when 
 God formed man at iirfl, he formed him after 
 his own image, and gave him eyes to fee, and 
 underftanding to difcern between good and evil : 
 a heart to approve of, and delight in the former, 
 and to abhor and difapprove of the latter j and 
 though the bnghtnefs of the divine image is 
 fullied in the human foul, yet it is not totally 
 deftroyed. In what region of the earth vi^as 
 ingratitude ever approved and rewarded ? Did 
 injufiice or cruelty, as fuch, ever meet v^nth the 
 fanOion of the law ? Or have not piety, juftice 
 and clemency always, and in all countries ap- 
 proved themfelves true, lovely, and of good 
 report ? 
 
 It is acknowledged, that when we confider 
 things in one view, we are apt to think that the 
 particular laws of ftates, or eliablifhed cuftoms of 
 nations, have often contradi6led the general laws 
 of nature. But were we to examine the appear- 
 ances which fuggeft this thought, or even to 
 
 ® ROM. il. 14. 
 
 confider 
 
SERMON IV. SB 
 
 conficler thofe inftances in which the contradicflion 
 was real, they might be accounted for without 
 overturning the principle now eftabli{hed. The 
 great rules of morals may have been naturally 
 difcovered ; and yet when men have endeavoured 
 to clafs duties, and to defcend to a greater fpe- 
 ciality than the plain fuggefiions of the mind 
 di(f^ated, or to fix the different merits of duties, 
 where there feemed to be a competition, or to 
 determine precifely what were the proper external 
 marks of our internal difpofition, then they may 
 have erred, and been much miiled. We muft 
 make allowances too for wrong education, vio- 
 lent pafTions, unthinking levity, or unreafonable 
 fears. Thefe often give rife to extravagant and 
 abfurd inftitutions, which were afterwards recom- 
 mended by cuftom, and thus implicitly received 
 and implicitly obeyed. In this manner the candle 
 of the Lord may, by degrees, be almoft extin- 
 guillied; darknefs may overwhelm the foul, and 
 error be embraced as truth. 
 
 This was actually the cafe in a great meafu re, 
 when tlie fun of righteoufnefs appeared in the 
 world, to rekindle the facred flame in the human 
 mind, to point out our duty, and to lead us by 
 his Spirit in the path of risjhteoufnefs. But it is 
 not one of the great excellencies of our holy re- 
 ligion, that it approves itfelf in the flrongeft 
 manner to mankind, by its conformity to their 
 natural principles of piety, juftice, charity and 
 temperance? 
 
 T«B 
 
S6 S E R M ON IV. 
 
 The commandments prefcribcd by it, are not 
 hidden from us, neither are they far off. T/iej 
 are not m Iteaven^ titat thou /hoiildji Jay ^ F/ ho J hall 
 go up to Leaien for us and bring them to zis, that 
 we may hear t! em and do ihem'^ neither are they 
 beyond the J'ca^ that thou Jhouldfi J y^ Who JJiall 
 go over tie Jeafor us^ and bring them to us^ that 
 we way hear them and do them ^ hut they are very 
 nigh unto thee^ even in t'y inouth and in thy hearty 
 that ihou moyefl do them ^. And indeed, had we 
 not minds formed for the knowledge and fervice 
 of God, for the love of mankind, and for the 
 obfervance of the rules of temperance and fobrie- 
 ty, we could not be the objeOs of religio.n : for 
 religion docs not beftow upon us new feelings ; 
 it only applies to tliofe feelings which Go.d has 
 given us. Even where it points out duties, of 
 which;,we iliould have otherwife been ignorant, 
 flill the obligation to thefe may be difcerned from 
 their being fuitable to thofe principles which the 
 author of reli2;ion at firfl: impreffed upon our 
 hearts. 
 
 Secondly, In the verfe now under coniiderati- 
 on, we have a very flriking inflance of the pow- 
 er with which confcience is invelied, not only to 
 inform us of our duty, but to punifli us for the 
 breach of it. Paul reafoned of righteoufnefs, 
 from which Felix, as a magiilrate, as a judge, 
 and as a private perfon, had often departed, 
 Felix lived in a mofl infamous commerce with 
 
 ^ DEUT. XXX. II, 12, 13, 14. 
 
 Drufilla ; 
 
SERMON IV. 57 
 
 Drufilla; Paul therefore difcourfcd of temperance' 
 Of the obhgations to righteoufnefs and te.'i:pe- 
 rance, Fehx, thougii neither a Jew nor a Chri- 
 ftian, was not ignorant : and when his tranfgrt f- 
 lion of thefe obli!:];ations was recalled to his mind, 
 it naturally excited fonfations of pain and remorfe. 
 But when the minifier of Chrift reprefented to 
 him the awful retribution for the deeds done in 
 the body, tht:n his inmoft foul was roufcd. The 
 apofile's words coincided with his own natural 
 appreheniions, and the vengeance of heaven 
 fcemcd already to have overtaken him. His 
 whole frame was agitated ; and, unable to bear it 
 longer, he immediately remanded the prifoner. 
 
 Thus God has conferred upon confcience a 
 moft facred authority, wdiich no man can violate 
 without being felf-condemned, and fuftering the 
 mofl terrible punifnment from its reproaches. 
 Of this we have the fullefx attellations in hiiiory, 
 both facred and profane. In the height of proll 
 pcrity indeed, a fenfe of guilt may be fometimes 
 overpowered and laid aflecp; but the leaf}: ac- 
 cidc: t or aiBidion awakens it, and fliews that 
 the fire had decayed for a little, only to flame 
 with the greater violence. Even profperity does 
 not always prevent the fenfe of guilt : remorfe, 
 like fome inveterate and incurable difeafe, preys 
 conftantly upon the heart of thofe who by their 
 deeds have given birth to it, and fhews that their 
 ju(]gmcnt lingereth not. We have a very flrik- 
 ing iniiance of this in one of the tyrants of Sicily. 
 After acquiring the royal authority by injuftice, 
 
 cruelty, 
 
58 SERMON IV. 
 
 criieky, and murder, he lived in the utmoft fplen- 
 (lor, but he was conftantly harrafTed by tormenting 
 fears, proceeding from his aggravated sjuilt. He 
 dreaded the jufjt |>uniinmcnt of his crimes from 
 his domeflics, anri his very children. One of his 
 niinifters having afi<ed the poffjiTion of his fplendid 
 fiation for a day; he cloathed him in his royal 
 robes, placed him upon his throne, fet before him 
 the moll: coitly entertainment, and ordered the 
 mofl illuftrious attendance to-be paid him ; but as 
 an emblem of the continual appreheniion of his 
 own mind, he fufpended a naked fword from the 
 cieling by a (ingle hair, dire6ily over his head ; 
 and thus he fat, conftantly dreading that the day 
 in w^hich he attained his wilh'd-for dignity would 
 prove the laft of his life. I need not make any 
 remarks upon this hiftory, nor multiply examples 
 of wretches, who from awakened confciences have 
 endured mifery fimilar to that of this tyrant. The 
 wicked are like the troubled fea^ whe?! it ca?:?iot reft^ 
 whoje waters cafr up mire a?id dirt. There is no 
 peace ^ faith mjy God, to the wicked^. A refpite in- 
 deed may, by want of reflevfiion, by diliipation 
 or feme other caufe, be obtained for a little from 
 the reproaches of a guilty confcience; but this 
 can never be called true peace. 
 
 It is a very remarkable property of this facul- 
 ty, that it applies any fuffering which befals a per-, 
 fon to the crime which it condemns, tho' it be 
 
 ^ ISAIAH Ivii. $0, 21, 
 
 not 
 
SERMON IV. , sg 
 
 not diredly inili(ftcd as a pimiilimcnt for that 
 crime, and forces him to conlidcr it as a tol^en of 
 the iuft vengeance of heaven. We are not in- 
 formed, that any punifhment immediately follov/- 
 ed, upon the crime of Jacob's Tons, in feiiing; 
 their brother as a ilave, or that they were touched 
 with a fenfe of ther iniquity; but they were no 
 fooner imprifoned in Egypt, after an interval of 
 many years, under a pretence of their being fpies 
 (which, if they had been as innocent in other 
 refpeds, as they w^ere in this, might have ap- 
 peared an event in the ordinary conrfe of Provi- 
 dence; than their confciences immediately applied 
 the punifliment as thejuft reward of their guiit. 
 Therefore do tkeyfay io one another^ We are verily 
 giiiiy concernmg our brother ; in that we faw the 
 angiiiih of his foul when he hejoiight us^ mid we 
 would not hear j therefore is this dtjinfs come up- 
 on us ^ 
 
 It Is farther worthy of obfervation, that, even 
 where the mind is left in uncertainty as to the 
 import of any unufal event, a guilty confcience is 
 immediately roufed and dreads the worft. When 
 Belfnazzar fat at his fealt, and the hand appeared 
 writing on the wall, as he was ignorant of what 
 was written, he might have imagined it to be good 
 as readily as evil : but his guilt was his interpreter ; 
 and though he did not underftand the writina^, 
 this informed him, that it betokened no good to 
 
 ^ GEN. xHi, 21. 
 
 him. 
 
6o S E R M O N IV. 
 
 him. Therefore was his cou?itenance changed^ and 
 his thoughts troubled hmi, Jo that the joints of his 
 loins were loofed^ and his knees fmote o?7e againft 
 another ^ . How natural was it for confcience to 
 prefent the refledion to Herod, when he heard of 
 Chrifts miraculous works, that it was John the 
 baptift whom he had beheaded, that had arifen 
 from the dead, and performed thofe wonderful 
 things ? 
 
 Conscience then maybe lulled for a little, 
 but the mofi: trivial thing imaginable may awaken 
 it. The wicked man has to dread a dark ni^^ht, 
 a folitary fituation, an accidental cxprelfion, any 
 common or uncom.mon incident. When Felix 
 called for the apoftle, he intended nothing but a 
 little entertainment ; but before he arofe, how 
 juft reafon had he to fay, as Ahab faid to Elijah, 
 Haft thou found r,ie^ mine enemy ^ f The happi- 
 pinefs of the wicked, my brethren, may be com- 
 pared to fo many figures in the fand : The wave 
 no fooner comes to the place where they are, than 
 they are razed. By our Omnipotent Creator con- 
 fcience is placed within our breafts, as our ruling 
 faculty. It credos its tribunal there, and accufes, 
 judges, acquits, or condemns. How irrefiftible 
 its power! Who ever exalted hi mfelf againft it, 
 and profpered ? Or what colour of life is fo black 
 and difmal as that, where a man is at enmity with 
 his own mind ^. 
 
 ^ DAN, V. 6. '^ I KINGS xxi. 20. 
 
SERMON IV. ^t 
 
 In the third place, The text leads our view to 
 two men of very oppofite characfters, and in very 
 different circumftances j in fuch a manner as tends 
 to corret^l: the judgment we are apt to form with 
 regard to power and external appearances. We 
 fee Felix a Roman governor, furrounded with 
 the miniilers of his will, attended to with all the 
 marks of regard, fpoken of with refped, and ad- 
 dreffed wnth that flattery which it requires an un- 
 common degree of virtue not to take pleafure in. 
 Would not the ambitious who moved in an infe- 
 rior fphere, judge this man to be crowned with a 
 garland compofed of flowers which conferred an 
 uncommon luflre and honour upon the wearer ? 
 yet liftlefs days and hours are often the lot of the 
 great. It was probably when neither bufinefs en- 
 gaged him, or a lawlefs or irregular appetite foli- 
 cited a gratification, that he refolved to hear Paul 
 by way of entertainment, or perhaps out of com- 
 pliment to Drufilla, who was a Jewefs, and might 
 be fomewhat interefted in a caufe, which had oc- 
 cafioned fuch an uproar in Jerufalem. Paul there- 
 fore is fent for ; and appearing before one, who 
 had both the pretext, and the powder of infiiding 
 immediate death upon him, he feeras the objecS 
 which calamity had fet up to pierce with her 
 fliarpefl darts. In the mind of the Romans who 
 were prefent, did not the defire naturally fpring 
 up, and did not ardour give it utterance ? May I 
 ever be an attendant upon the happy Felix ! but 
 from the fears which pofTefs, or the fate that may 
 overtake that wretched prifoner, may I ever be 
 delivered ! 
 
 But 
 
62 SERMON IV. 
 
 But how widely does man misjudge, when he 
 looks only at what fcrikes the external eye ? For 
 power and grandeur, though purfued with the 
 utmofi keennefs as the companions, yea as the 
 ^ery parents of happinefs, are frequently deceit- 
 ful phantoms, totally unconneded with that 
 great objed of all human wifiies. We have a 
 very firong inftance of this before us j a very lit- 
 tle refledion will foon en2:a2;e us to reckon the 
 prifoner the great and the happy man, and the 
 judge the mean and the unhappy wretch. To be 
 fenfible of this, let us draw alide the outward 
 veil by which we may be impofed upon, and look 
 into their hearts. 
 
 Felix, then, was the fubjed of many ungo- 
 vernable pafTions, which like fo many harpies, 
 continually cried for gratification ; and that they 
 might be gratified, plunged him into a thoufand 
 excelTes, the refiedion upon which filled him with 
 difapprobation and abhorrence of himfelf. His 
 guards furrounded him, and power employed all 
 her artifices to make him happy ; but from a fe- 
 cret corner guilt often bent his bow, and pierced 
 him with the arrows that are the mofl flrongly 
 barbed, and the moft deeply penetrating of any 
 that are borne in the quiver of afflidion. When 
 he looked within, he difcerned his foul to be black 
 Vvith guilt. Beyond the fleeting and precarious 
 profped of a few years, which even his pafl expe- 
 rience could inform him, would be fr^r from being 
 years of unmixed joy, hope did not adminifier 
 from her cup one cordial drop to fupport his fpi- 
 
 rit; 
 
SERMON IV. 5^ 
 
 rltj but defpair hovered round him, and tho' he 
 avoided the fight of this monger with the greateft 
 care, yet fhe often intruded into his prefence, and 
 overwhelmed his mind. For can we think, that 
 the words of this prifoner roufed the terrors which 
 had never been rouzed before, by any of thofe 
 pnrfuits in which he had been engaged, by any 
 of thofc injuries he had committed, or by any of 
 that blood he had fhed ? Be not deceived then. 
 Felix, in fpite of appearances, was the prey of un- 
 governable, unfatiable paffions, at enmity with 
 himfelf, haunted by the fenfe of his guilt, and of- 
 ten tormented with thofe diftreffing fears, which 
 w^ere augmented by confidering them as the pre- 
 fage of future and greater punifliment. 
 
 Let us turn our view next to Paul. Tho* 
 Handing at the tribunal of a judge, and accufed 
 as a criminal, yet what greatnefs, and erednefs 
 of mind does he difcover ? Neither the evils which 
 furrounded him, nor the evils which threatened 
 them, could overwhelm his mind, becaufe he had 
 forefeen them, and was willing to endure them 
 for his Mafter's fake. The tears of his friends 
 were ready to break his heart, before he went up 
 to Jerufalem ; but at that very time, he was ready 
 to endure not only bonds, but death, for the name 
 of the Lord Jefus ''. By what avenue was it pof- 
 fible for misfortune, grievous misfortune, to en- 
 ter, and feize the man who could apply to him.- 
 
 " ACTS XX. 24. 
 
 felf 
 
64 S £ R M O N IV. 
 
 fcif this all-powerful confolation ; Herein do I ex^ 
 ercije m)>Jelf\ to have always a confcience void of of- 
 fence toward Gcd^ and toivard men F ^ Blefied God ! 
 what a calmnefs and ferenity does a clear con- 
 fcience diffuTe over the moft difagreeable external 
 circumftances \ while to a guilty mind, often in 
 the very meridian of profperity, there appears no^ 
 thing but darknefs anddefpair! 
 
 And now, my brethren, having from this por- 
 tion of fcripture (hewn the manner in which God 
 has difcovered many branches of our duty; hav- 
 ing illuilrated the natural power and authority of 
 confcience; and having endeavoured to eftablifh 
 a juft meafure for eflimatina; human happinefs ; 
 let me draw a few inferences by way of appli- 
 cation. 
 
 We have feen that even the light of nature 
 pointed out the duty of man in many inflances; 
 and led him to difcetn his own fault in not at- 
 tending to it; but the light of nature was only as 
 a light iLining in a dark place. Let this therefore 
 excite our gratitude, that we live in a period, 
 ■when tiie day fpring from on high has vi/ited us. 
 Let us be thankful that the clouds and darknefs 
 "which overfpread the world are difpelled by the 
 fun of righteoufnefs, which has arifen, as with 
 health and healing under his wings. And where- 
 as, when confcience in a natural flale was once 
 
 * ACTS xx!^^ i6. 
 
 awakencdj, 
 
SERMON IV. 65 
 
 awakened, there could fcarcely remain any hope, 
 but a fearful looking for of judgment, [i'or un- 
 affifted reafon could not certainly inform a man, 
 that even an alteration of condud could procure 
 an intereft in the favour of an once offended God) 
 let us ever adore that Saviour, fy whom peace is 
 proclaimed o?i earthy and good will to men '^. For be 
 it known unto you^ men and hr ether ji^ that through 
 this man is preacned unto you the forgivenefs of 
 Jins \ and hy him alt that believe are jiiftified from 
 all things from which ye could not have been jufti- 
 fied^\ not only by the informations of reafon, 
 but even hy the law cf Mofes. But did Chrifl: die 
 that fin might abound ? God forbid. No ; he 
 died, riot only that the guilt of fin might be 
 wafhed away, but alfo that the power of fin 
 might be fubdiied in the hearts of his followers 5 
 for though he is merciful to every penitent, hei 
 is a confuming fire to all the workers of iniquity. 
 
 <!. If, befide? all natural advantages, God hath 
 vnuchfafed tons tiie fuperior bleihn2;s of revela- 
 tion for our inf:/rmation and diredion, what 
 manner of men ought we to be ? If Felix, a 
 heathen and an idolater, trembled at the w^ords 
 of an apofl:le for the violations of the laws of 
 righteoufnefs and temperance, how much more 
 fhould w*e, if we are guilty of the like tranfgref- 
 fions ? If the natural dread of a future judgment 
 had fo great influence upon his mind, what 
 
 ^ LUKE ii. 14. ^ ACTS xiii. 38, 39. 
 
 F ^motions 
 
"jG sermon IV. 
 
 emotions ought the clear revelations of it which 
 we' enjoy, to excite in our breafts ? To us God 
 ::ath given full alTurancc, that he will juSge the 
 ■.arid in righieoufnejs by that Alan who??! he hath 
 r.rdaiiied ^'\ Ought not then the convidions of a 
 f !ture retribution, fupported by the force of 
 God's authority, the exprefs declarations of his 
 word, as well as the admonitions of your own 
 confciences, to excite you to forfake every fin ? 
 Let him that defrauded his neighbour, defraud 
 riim no more \ let the drunkard forfake his 
 •Irong drink, and live temperately. Let the 
 licentious abandon pleafure, and follow Chrift; 
 fcr he that faith, that he loveth Chrift, and yet 
 doth not obey his commandments, is a liar, and 
 the truth is not in him. 
 
 ^"^ ACTSXvil. 31, 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON V, 
 
 Psalm Ixxiii. 28. 
 But it is good for me to draw near to God. 
 
 P. 
 
 A R T I x\ L views of human life, and hafly 
 opinions of the events which occur in it, often oc- 
 cafion much flu^f^uation of mind, and uncertainty 
 of condu6t, by giving rife to fentiments of infi- 
 delity and diftruft in relation to the fuperinten- 
 dance and recflitude of providence. The recep- 
 tion which thofe views meet with, flrongly marks 
 the charader of the mind ; for the views them- 
 felves, to people who are accuftomed to think, 
 are at times almoil unavoidable. It appears from 
 this pfalm, that the writer of it had been deeply 
 dift relied with them, and with the dark profpedls 
 which they prefented ; in fo much that, on fome 
 occafions, they even tempted him to regard virtue 
 as a name, and piety as a fhadow. iTerily I ka^:e 
 ckanjed my heart in vain^ and "xafJied my kands in 
 innocency. But to a virtuous mind, the ans^uirti 
 of the impreffion prepares for its cure. In th*^ fi- 
 
 F 2 tuation. 
 
68 S E R M O N V. 
 
 tuation, the venerable and complacent form of 
 religion fleps in to our aid. By her words, 
 equally fraught with ftiblimity and fweetnefs, 
 fhe elevates the dejeded foul, and pours into the 
 feftered heart the balm of divine confolation. 
 The fanduary of God was the place vv'here the 
 Pfalmift expeded to have his doubts cleared, and 
 his anxieties removed. Thither therefore he goes; 
 and there religion opens to him fuch extenfive and . 
 foothing difcoveries, as entirely difpel his painful 
 thoughts. By the meditations which fhe fug- 
 gefts, he regains his former ferenity and firmneis, 
 and acquires that confidence in the adrainiflration 
 and protedion of the Almighty, which is always 
 fo highly agreeable, but which few thoughtful 
 men of fenfibility are able invariably to main- 
 tain. The tenor of thefe meditations we may 
 obferve from the I7th verfe to the end of this 
 pfalm. The words of my text contain a calm and 
 deliberate reflexion of the PfalmiO, as the refult of 
 a perfcd coniideration of his fubjecft, and will af- 
 ford very fuitable matter for our inftrudionat this 
 time. 
 
 To draw near to God, primarily denotes thofe 
 approaches which the Ifraelites made by means of 
 their priefts, to the vifible fymbol of the divine 
 prcfcnce they had in the temple, in order to alk 
 counfel of the Lord, and to receive anfwers ref** 
 jicding the expreffions of their piety, and the re- 
 gulation of their condud. Upon fuch occafions, 
 they always intermingled ads of devotion : and 
 as in thefe, the fenfc of the divine prefence is 
 
 mor« 
 
SERMON V. V 69 
 
 more immediate and lively, the phrafe came na- 
 turally to fignify all religious a6ls, and exercifes 
 of the mind. In this fenfe, it feems principally 
 ufed in the text. That it denotes religious acls 
 in general, appears alfo from the charader which 
 God gives of the Ifraelites in the 29th chapter of 
 Ifaiah, the 1 3th verfe ; This people draw near me 
 ii)i.th their mouthy and with tkeir lips do honour me : 
 That is, they are punctual in the obfervance of 
 the external forms and ceremonies of worfhip. 
 When the primary and mofi: proper fenfe of a 
 phrafe is loft, it often happens, that the feconda- 
 ry and more fig-rative acceptation remains. Ac- 
 cordingly in the New Teftament, when the Jcwifh 
 oeconomy was wholly altered, and there was no 
 room left for a literal application of the words in 
 queftion, they are, both in the epiftle to the He- 
 brews, and the epiftle of James, adopted to figni- 
 fy acls of chriftian devotion ; and as they are ex- 
 preftive of the operation and feelings of our minds, 
 they fignify thefe more ftrongly than any language 
 would do that wxre entirely ftripped of rqetaphor 
 and figure. 
 
 The text then furnifhes a proper foundation for 
 confidering the advantages of devotion in general ; 
 and the confideration of thefe fhall conftitute the 
 fubje6t of this difcourfe. 
 
 Wren I fpeakof the advantages whijh attend 
 the rehgious ads of the mind, it is perhaps fuper- 
 iliious to fay, that I underftand thefe ads to be 
 iincere and well intended. Sincerity and good in- 
 tention 
 
70 S E R M O N V. 
 
 tention are eflentially requifite in all the duties 
 of piety and morality. They diftinguiili the chrif- 
 tian from the formalifl: : they recommend the ti- 
 morous prayer of the humble publican, while the 
 want of thera renders the pompous declarations 
 of the proud pharifce frivolous and vain. In 
 thefe circumftances lies the difference between 
 the zeal of Peter and the kifs of Judas ; between 
 the tearful eye and downcali heart of the beloved 
 difciple {landing at a diftance, and the mock ho- 
 nours paid to our Saviour by a fcrvile multitude. 
 Is it neceffary to add that religious ads and exer-- 
 cifes can be of no confequence or utility farther 
 than a man's temper and condud are correfpon- 
 dent to them? That ceremonies fhould con- 
 penfate for immoralities ; that a traniient devo- 
 tion ihould atone for vicious habits; that he who 
 profpers by the w^ages of iniquity and the gains 
 of oppreffion, or who without reflraint gratifies 
 any appetite or any paiTion, lliould meet with 
 acceptance from his maker, on the account of 
 any rites and forms of religion whatever, are fup- 
 pofitions alike abfurd and impious. He that turn- 
 mvay his ear Jrom hearing the A/w, even his prdjer 
 Jliall he abomination ^ ; and the only pofTible aggra- 
 vation of his guilt is when he offers up his prayer 
 with a wicked heart. 
 
 Having faid thus much to prevent miflakes, I 
 proceed to confider the advantages which attend 
 
 ^' PR o V. xxviii. g. 
 '~ the 
 
S E R M O N V. 71 
 
 the religious ads and exercifes of the mind. // is 
 good for 7ne to draiv near to God. 
 
 In the firft place, they are accompanied with 
 a fenfible pleafure and felf-approbation. 
 
 One thing in this world is fetover againft ano- 
 ther. Every thing is relative, and there muft be 
 fomc comparifon before we can pronounce con- 
 cerning pleafure or pain, good or evii. The gra- 
 tifications of life arife to man from the confonance 
 between certain powers of his mind, and certain 
 objeds that are adapted to them. Thus far hath 
 the God of nature provided for our enjoymen; , 
 Ifthofe gratifications are perceived and reHfiie:', 
 we pronounce the mind to be in a healthful ftatc : 
 if not, we reckon it difeafed, and the fault lies not 
 in man's original frame, but in his own unnatu-- 
 ral and visious perverfion of it. Thus we feel, 
 and thus we judge. By the pleafure, then, and 
 felf-approbation which accompany the exercifes 
 of devotion, I mean thofe agreeable fenfations, 
 and that delightful confcioufnefs which they 
 produce in well-regulated fpirits, and which eve- 
 ry man who has the leafi: candour remaining, 
 though he has ^o far perverted his ov/n mind as 
 not to poffefs them, muf}: acknowledge to have 
 a ftrong foundation in nature. That they have 
 fuch foundation will appear whether we confider 
 the faculties that are employed in the a6!s 
 of devotion, the objed to whom they are 
 direded, or the emotions which accompany 
 them,. 
 
 In 
 
7- S E R M O N V. 
 
 In the exercifes of devotion our highefl facul.- 
 tles.are employed. By our capacity to recognize 
 a fnperior hand direcfling the affairs of the uni- 
 verfe, we are diftinguifhed from every other crea- 
 ture in this lower world. The fun fliines upon 
 the beafts of the field, and upon the birds of the 
 air, as well as upon man. The general influen^ 
 CCS of heaven chear and animate them. The 
 earth affords them flicker and fuilenance. They 
 ihare with us many pleafures, and are affedcd 
 with many fimilar pains ; but man alone perceives- 
 an invilible and over-ruling power, putting every- 
 thing in motion, and directing every thing to its 
 proper end. By fKill and culture, it is poffible 
 t-O train fome other creatures to an imitation of 
 many human anions, and greatly to improve 
 their natural fagacity 5 but to tranfport them for 
 an inftant into the region of invifible things, tran- 
 fcends the utmoa efforts of human ability.. The 
 conclufion moll natural and mofl familiar to man, 
 W'hich, had it not been for the corruption of his 
 heart, or the refinements of falfe philofophy, he 
 had never lofl fight of, is That a Godjsxifcs ; a 
 conclafion impoffible to be taugh: by art to infe- 
 rior animals. In the exertion then of this prero- 
 gative (hall man find no delight ? Hath the Deity 
 ibmpcd his own image upon us, and made us 
 able to difcern his attributes ; and hath he annex- 
 ed no pleafcre to this deduction of our reafon, or 
 to this feeling of our hearts, and the impreffiqns 
 conneded with either? Believe not, my brethren, 
 that God hath dealt fo unequally, fo partially 
 with the creatures of his hand. It is our dignity, 
 it is our privilege, to be fufceptible of the im- 
 
 preffions 
 
S E R M O N V. 73 
 
 prefTions of religion j and in vain lliall we purfue 
 j ubftantial joys, if we exclude this as a confidera- 
 ble fource of them. The ox feels no want while 
 he feeds in rich paftures, the bee fucks the fra- 
 grant flower impregnated with the dew of heaven, 
 and alT<s for nothing more. The birds of the air 
 .gather the grain which the liberal hand of heaven 
 fcatters, and pourforth thenotesofunallayed delight. 
 But man the mafter of the world pines for fomething 
 more. The univerfe is too little for him, and no- 
 thing lefs than God, nothing lower than the views 
 which religion prefents, and the affedions which 
 it infpires, can fatisfy his all-grafping mind. 
 
 We are made for contemplating great and 
 magnificent objeds with pleafure. A mountain, 
 a river, the fea, the heavens, attrad the attention 
 of the moil uncultivated fpirit. Heroic deeds, 
 noble fentiments, extenfive fchemes are furveyed 
 with pleafure, and recorded with admiration by 
 every people upon the face of the earth ; but the 
 grander of every material or mental objed that 
 the univerfe can furnilh, fades and difappears 
 when we raife our thoughts to the fource and 
 flandard of all greatnefs. The greatnefs of every 
 other objed is comparative and derived; the 
 greatnefs of God abfolute and original. In his eye 
 the earth is a fpot, the mountains atoms, the 
 heavens a curtain, the moft exalted human excels 
 lence imperfedion. 
 
 But further, the feelings which the ads of de- 
 votion give fcope to, are all of the noblefl and 
 rpolt amiable kind, and therefore from our very 
 
 conflitution 
 
74 , S E R M O N V. 
 
 conftitution accoinpanled with the moft fenfible 
 delight. In devotion we not only contemplate 
 with admiration the ever-living caufe of all per- 
 fedion and felicity, but with gratitude we ac- 
 knowledge his beneficence to us. All gloomy 
 and defponding ideas difappear, and we confide 
 in that power which raifed us from the duft, and 
 made us rational and immortal creatures. The 
 love of our hearts is the natural tribute to the 
 goodnefs that creates and fuftains worlds without 
 number, and living beings beyond calculation. 
 The hope of immortality irradiates our minds, and 
 we rejoice in the government of him with whom 
 a tfiouf and years are hut as one day^. Is it poffi- 
 ble to indulge fentiments like thefe, and to derive 
 no pleafure from them ? Search the world and tell 
 me if there are any fubjeds fo fit to employ, fb 
 calculated to pleafe the human mind. We wxre 
 made for pleafure, we feel the defire of it inter- 
 woven with our inmofl frame. The man that 
 fays he defpifes it, is a liar. Place it only on 
 the right objed : feek it not in gold : it is not an- 
 nexed to temporal power : fenfual delights are 
 but a phantom. Our true joy is not here. It is 
 rifen : it is with God. It is more precious than 
 rubies, more valuable than hidden treafures. Let 
 us afpire after it, and gratify our fouls by giving 
 fcope to the moil virtuous and moil: exalted feel- 
 ings of our hearts. Let reverence, gratitude, love, 
 adoration demonftrate to us that we were made 
 
 " 2 PET., iii. 8, 
 
 for 
 
SERMON V. 75 
 
 for fomethlng nobler than to grovel upon this 
 earth, and to ligh after its deceittul enjoyments. 
 
 In the fecond place, The advantages which 
 attend the rehgious exercifes of the mind appear 
 from the intkience they liave upon the temper 
 and condud, both refpeding fociety and our- 
 felves. 
 
 I v/i L L not fay that there can be no morahty 
 where there is no piety, becaufe different parts 
 of our frame anfwers to thefe different branches 
 of our duty; and a perverfion of one part does 
 not infer an annihilation of the other. But in 
 every cafe where piety is wanting, morality has 
 loft its fureft and beft fupport. It is alfo worthy 
 of obfervation, that the more exteniive our 
 theatre of a^flion is, and the more cultivated 
 fome of the powers of our minds are, the more 
 we ftand in need of piety in order to preferve 
 the purity and integrity of our hearts. ^ A fiva^e 
 who fcarcely thinks of God, is not in fuch 
 danger of tranfgiefnng the focial duties of his 
 narrow fphere, as the civilized citizen who 
 proves without argument that religion is an 
 impofture, and believes without reafon that de- 
 votion is hypocrify. In the contraded fituation 
 of the favagc, to yield to the impulfcs and in- 
 fttn^ts of nature, conftitutes the moft important 
 part of his duty and bufmefs. In the cafe of 
 the civilized citizen, to render his focial conduit 
 worthy of approbation, it muft be grafted upon 
 principles that cprrefpond to his more enlarged 
 
 views 
 
76 S E R M O N V. 
 
 views and more extenfive conne(f^lons. Our 
 defires, our wants, our hopes, our fears, our ca- 
 pacities for virtue, and our propenfities to vice, 
 increafe with the improvement of our knowledge, 
 and our advancement in all the arts of polifhed 
 life. Now to reftram thofe propenfities to vice, 
 to cultivate thofe capacities for virtue, to refift 
 temptations fo multiplied, and to regulate fuch 
 various impulfes, the aids of religion become 
 abfolutely necelTary. In fad, how few men, 
 who have no principle of piety, are flridly 
 obfervant of the duties of fecial and domeftic life? 
 Honour, cuflom, humanity, pride, natural tem- 
 per, prove reftraints in many inftances. But 
 fuch reftraints are weak, partial, and confined. 
 A man truly confcientious is afliamed to hear 
 thofe encomiums which it is fafhionable to 
 lavifh on the man of honour and humanity, as he is 
 called, who is nevertheiefs unfaithful to his wife, 
 or carelefs about his children, who triumphs in 
 the ruin of female innocence, and efteems the 
 tie of friendfhip no defence againft injuries of the 
 blacked nature. I believe there are many mer^ 
 chants who have no fixed principle of religion, 
 that will not forge bills, or falfify accompts, that 
 will be regular corrcfpondents and juft dealers, 
 that will tell honeftly the quality of their goods, 
 and be pundual to a day in their payments. 
 This is their duty and their intereft ; fo far they 
 do w^ell ; and piety, if it could be poffefTed in 
 this employment without thefe qualities, would 
 never compenfate for the want of them. But 
 do thefe qualities ccnftitute a man of virtue and 
 
 integrity 
 
S E R M O N V. 77 
 
 integrity in all the focial relations of life ? Or, 
 if he tranfgreffes one of the duties of thofe rela- 
 tions, will thcfe qualities give him the leaft 
 compundion of mind on this account ? Suppofe I 
 were afiured of his poflefiing all thefe, fhould I 
 be the lefs fearful of coming within his power, 
 if I had offended or hurt him, however innocent- 
 ly ? To a man who is above the arts of diilionef- 
 ty, how fweet very often is the morfel of re- 
 venge ! He is an unexceptionably good man, as 
 it is called upon the exchange, yet his fervants 
 may feel the feverity of his temper, his depen- 
 dants may groan under the rod of his opprellion, 
 and his poor neighbours may be fick or ftarve 
 without engaging hb affiftance, or exciting his 
 compaffion. When we defcend to the lower 
 flations of life ; if they have loft all regard for 
 religion, what expectation can we entertain of 
 their virtue or fobriety ? Fawning to their fupe- 
 riors and employers ; but almoft always tyranni- 
 cal or ill-tempered at home : pilferers to encreafe 
 their fubftance j and yet almoft for ever intem- 
 perate and debauched in the ufe of it : given to 
 fraud in every inilance where they can gain by 
 it ; yet almoft continually plunged by their vices, 
 into poverty and wretchednefs. 
 
 On the other hand, is there not a natural 
 tendency in the fpirit of devotion to improve the 
 character in every good quality refpeding our 
 private condud ? What can more powerfully 
 enlarge and ennoble the mind, than the contem- 
 plation and adoration of God ? What can more 
 
 vigoroully 
 
78 S E R M O N V. 
 
 vigoroufly prompt to the excrcife of the focial 
 aftedions, than the confideration that they are 
 implanted in us by the common parent, and that 
 a regard to them is our duty as his children i^ 
 What can more cffedually imprefs a fenfe of the 
 dignity of temperance, and the meannefs of de- 
 bauchery, than a re£lev!^ion on our divine original, 
 and a view of our immortal profpeds ? 
 
 These, one fhould think, are the natural 
 fruits of a pious difpofition : But when it is 
 further confidered, that all the duties of morality, 
 love, candour, forgivenefs, condefcenfion, hu- 
 manity, charity, temperance, are exprefly com- 
 manded in the fcripture, and particularly recom- 
 mended by an example that cannot fail to have 
 the ftrongefl: influence upon the mind of a real 
 chriftian, that the fame authority w^hich enjoins 
 us to love the Lord our God wnth all our heart, 
 enjoins us alfo to love our neighbour as ourfelves, 
 can we be fo blind as not to perceive an intimate 
 connexion between thefe different branches of 
 our duty i^ Are we difpofed to adore the per- 
 fedions of God, and acknowledge the authority 
 of God? And will fentiments of this kind feri- 
 oufly entertained and frequently repeated have no 
 influence but in thofe moments when they are 
 prefent to the mind ? Or will they not give fome 
 tindure to the temper and behaviour ? Will the 
 contemplation of perfed excellence raife no de- 
 flre after obtaining a portion of it ? Will frequent 
 views of the vanity of time and the importance of 
 eternity have no efleO. in fubduing pride, in 
 
 reflrainin? 
 
S E R M O N V. 79 
 
 fcftraining impatience, and in arming with for- 
 titude ? Will all the confiderations that are men- 
 tioned in the new teftament, of our being the 
 children of God, 'the temples of the Holy Gboft, 
 the brethern of Chrift Jefus, the heirs of his 
 promifes, the expedants of his glory; will all 
 thefe be of no ufe in engaging us to purify 
 our minds, and to keep ourfelves unfpotted from 
 the world ? 
 
 But fad is the great decider of all difputes. 
 If it appears from fad, that the exercifes of de- 
 votion are nowife fubfervient to the good condiidt 
 of this life, let them be confined to thofe who 
 confider them as a fit preparation for another; 
 but if the reverfe be found true, let all who are 
 folicitous about the moft valuable interefts ■ of 
 the prefent life be fenfible of their importance. 
 
 If a reafoner, to fhew the little ufe of piety, 
 fhould urge, as is frequently done in queftions 
 of this kind, fome examples of great external 
 appearances of devotion, where the charadters 
 which exhibit them are yet tainted with avarice, 
 mjuitice, intemperance; and fhould exult in this 
 as a proof that devotion hath no influence on 
 pradice, I muft certainly entertain a poor opinion 
 of his difcernment. The queftion is not about 
 the effeds of an appearance of piety, but about 
 the efieds of piety itfelf. Surely experience 
 teacheth us to diftinguifti between appearances 
 and realities : and indeed a great external fhow 
 of devotion, except in people of weak underftand- 
 
 ings 
 
So SERMON V. 
 
 ings and warm paflions, gives rather a prefiimp-^ 
 tion of the want of that quality than of the 
 pofTeffion of it. Were we to difpute about the 
 wxight of gold, would it be fair to prefent a gilt 
 counter to prove its lightnefs ? But the univerfal 
 fenfe and judgment of the world about the cha- 
 raders of the men we are here fpeaking of, 
 evidently (how that there is a real foundation for 
 afferting that true devotion has a natural tenden- 
 cy to improve, in every refped, the moral cha- 
 ra<5ter. For, if it has no fuch tendency, why 
 fliould every human creature exprefs a peculiar 
 indignation againft the vices of fuch men ? For 
 what reafon lliould they confider thofe vices as 
 fo highly aggravated ? Why ihould the impious 
 wretch hold up his face, and fay that he is not 
 To bad as the man who pretends to piety, and 
 yet treads in the fame fteps with himfelf ? Thus 
 the mouth of fuch reafoners condemns them, and 
 their own lips teftify againft them. 
 
 Again ; if particular inftances of moral virtue 
 fl^ould be taken notice of in men who have had 
 little fenfe of devotion, and yet have appeared 
 equal or perhaps fuperior in thofe inftances to 
 many who have been unqueftionably a(5Vuated by 
 that principle ; neither is this any thing to the 
 purpofe. Character does not conftft in feparate 
 and detached eftbrts, but in an uniform or pre- 
 vailing tenor of life. Great allowances are to be 
 made for natural difpofitions, for original differ- 
 ences in judgment, imagination, afFedion. Even 
 the devotional fpirit does not furmonnt every 
 
 obftaclc, 
 
S E R M O N V. 8i 
 
 obftacle, and conquer every temptation. The 
 man of piety may yield to a paffion which never 
 aOuated a worfe man. But ftating the cafe fairly, 
 and that is, fu, ppofmg the force of virtuous pro- 
 penfities and of vicious inclination equal in any 
 tv/o men, which of the two would improve 
 mofi: in the former, and be at greateft pains to 
 fenrain the latter ? The man that fears God, or 
 the man that fears him not ? Which of the two 
 would feel moft compun<fiion upon a deviation 
 from reditude, or moft anxiety to recover the 
 fight path ? I might appeal to your own judg, 
 ments : I might almoft appeal to the judgments 
 of the vicious. But experience, as I hinted be- 
 fore, is the great decider of all difputes. If there 
 be, as it is certain there are, a great variety of 
 inftances in which men filled with the fpirit of 
 devotion have been found blamelefs in their 
 lives, and confpicuous for the purity of their 
 morals, while they afcribed thefe attainments to 
 that very fpirit of devotion, and thofe influences 
 of divine grace which are infeparably connected 
 with it, muft not this be acknowledged decifive 
 upon the point ? Were we to feled particular 
 inftances, I fhould mention the prophets and 
 apoftles, great numbers of the primitive chriftians, 
 fome of the firft reformers. Some of the moft 
 oppofite principles in other refpeds might be 
 ranked with them. Even feveral heathens might 
 be confidered as examples of the truth of our 
 doctrine, and in that lift I ihould particularly 
 diftinguilh a Socrates and an Antoninus. 
 
8« S E R M O N V. 
 
 In the third place : The advantages which at- 
 tend the religious exercifes of the mind will ap- 
 pear, when we confider them as a refource under 
 the evils and calamities of life, and a folace under 
 the moft difirefsful circumftances that can be- 
 fal us. 
 
 There can be no greater folly, nor any more 
 Certain fource of difappointmentj than inattention 
 to the general lot of humanity. If we confider 
 life in itfelf, without taking into the account the 
 means which providence and religion furnifh for 
 rendering it more eafy and agreeable, the moft 
 melancholy defcriptions of it are fcarcely over- 
 charged. Helplefs in infancy, thoughtlefs in 
 childhood, rafh in youth, headftrong in manhood, 
 feeble in declining years, decrepid in old age; in 
 every ftage liable to accidents, to difeafes, to dif^ 
 folution. Thus furrounded with a thoufand 
 evils, can we exped to be happy, if we have no 
 higher i-efuge than this world affords ? It is not in 
 human power to avoid the pang of forrow fome- 
 times ; and if we have no confolation when it 
 comes, it will perfedly overwhelm us. The pains^ 
 the diftempers, the difappointments, the injuries 
 from men, the reverfes of fortune, the lofs of 
 friends, the namelefs calamities to which we are 
 daily fubjedt, who can tell how many or how 
 grievous they may prove ? Ah think, what multi- 
 tudes are this day, from events unforefeen and 
 unavoidable, plunged in bitternefs of foul, who 
 lately thought that their mountain flood ftrong, 
 and that their lioufes fbould never be moved ! 
 Mirth does well for a feafon, but the houfe of 
 
 mourn- 
 
S E R M D N V. Ss 
 
 itiourhlng is upon fome occafions appoirlted for all 
 the children of riien. Need I, in proof of this, re- 
 Cur to the inftances of Job, of the prophets, of 
 the apoftles ? Need I mention the fall of tyrants, 
 the cataftrophe of empires, the havoc made by the 
 peltilence, or the ravages by the fword ? Indeed, 
 my brethren, the foul of man feels that man is 
 born to trouble as the f parks Jly Upwards^ that he 
 con fumes his days in vanity^ a?id his years in trouble ; 
 and if heOiould deny it v\nth his mouth, his heart 
 would give him the lie. But where fhall he find 
 Confolation under thefe afilidions, if he has not 
 previoufly acquainted himfelf with God ? On the 
 contrary, what folacing reflections will break in 
 upon his mindft'om the principles of piety, and the 
 a6ts of devotion? How powetfuily will thefe afTuage 
 the bitternefs of anguifli, and check the fenii- 
 ments of defpondence ! Froiti this fource a fecret 
 joy will fpring up in the heart, when the tears of 
 grief are falling upon other accounts. Let not 
 the young and the gay imagine that rnournful 
 fcenes are at a diftance. No perfon can tell how 
 tiear they may be; and wifdom confifts in prepa- 
 ting for what fooner or later will probably hap- 
 pen to us all. 
 
 I SHALL conclude with two paffages of fcrip- 
 ture that are much to our prefent purpofe^ and 
 ferve to (hew the unconquerable power of piety 
 amidft the greateft calamities. The former is 
 David's triumph in the midft of public danger 
 and diitrefs : God is bur refuge and ftrength^ a very 
 prefent help in trouble: therefore will "xe not fear ^ 
 though the edrth he removed^ and though the 7rou?i- 
 
 G 2 tains 
 
84 SERMON V. 
 
 tains he carried into the midft of the fea 5 though 
 the waters thereof roar and he trouhled^ though the 
 mountains Jhake with the Jwelling thereof. There is 
 a river ^ the Jir earns whereof Jhall make glad the city 
 of God, the holy place of the tahernacles of the mojl 
 High. God is in the midft of her, /he fhall not he 
 moved j God fhall help her, and that right early. The 
 heat I en raged, the ki?igdo7ns were moved; he ut'ered 
 his voice,, the earth melted. The 'Lord of Ho /Is is 
 with us, the God of '^acoh is our refuge ^. The 
 other is the conclufion of Habakkuk's hymn : 
 Although the fg-tree fhall not hloffom, neither flialt 
 fruit he in the vine, the lahour of the olive fhall fail, 
 and the field fhall yield no meat, the fock fhall he cut 
 off om the fold, and there fall he no herd in the 
 flails ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in 
 the Lord of my falvation. The Lord God is my 
 frength S Thus hleffed is the man, O God, 
 whom thou caifefi to approach unto thee ^. To 
 God, therefore, let us draiv near, with a true heart, 
 in full affurance of faith I 
 
 ^ PSALM xlvi. I — 7. ^HAB. iii. 17. 19. 
 
 '^^ PSALM IXV. 4. ^ HEB. X. 22. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON VI. 
 
 Matthew xxil. 37, 38. 
 
 Jefus [aid unto him. Thou Jhalt love the Lord thy 
 God with all thy heart, and with all thy foul, and 
 with all thy mind, ' This is the frji and great 
 commandment, 
 
 1 N the preceding verfes we are told that a young 
 lawyer, with a view either to inform himfelf of 
 the knowledge and abilities of Jefys as an in- 
 ftrudor, or to obtain fome anfwer which might 
 give occafion to traduce him to the people, afks 
 him this queftionj Mailer, which is the great 
 commandment in the laiv? The words which I 
 have now read, contains our Saviour's reply, 
 which is fo agreeable to reafon, and to the exprefs 
 dodrine recorded in the Old T^ftament, that, as 
 we fee from the parallel place in the evangelift 
 Mark, this young man, who feems not to have 
 been deflitute of candour and ingenuity, freely 
 owned its truth, and applauded Jefus for it. I 
 need fcarcely inform any of you, that thefe ex- 
 preilions of loving God with all our heart, with all 
 our foul, and with all our mindy are only intended 
 
 to 
 
$6 S £ R M O N Vf. 
 
 to denote the warmth, the vigoqr, and the ftea^ 
 dinefs of the affccftion But though the precept 
 be very eafily underltood, and though Chriftians 
 are ever ready to join in this enquiry, and to 
 fay, A/a,9er, thou haft anjwered isoell^ yet it muft 
 be acknowledged, that many of thofe who call 
 themfelves Chriftians, feldom ferioufly gonfidef 
 its high importance among the precepts of rehgi- 
 pn. They rarely feel the force of the principle 
 w hich it inculcates a^iuating their hearts j and 
 confequently are ftrangers to its powerful and 
 extenfive iniluence. In difcourfmg therefore 
 from thefe words, I fhall ift. fhow the reafona- 
 blenefs, and endeavour to imprcfs your hearts 
 with a fenfe of the duty here commanded, love 
 to God. 
 
 2dly, I fhall conilder fome of the reafons, 
 on account of which the precept enjoining it may 
 be termed thefirft. and great commandment, 
 
 Firft. I propofe to fhow the reafonablenefs, 
 and to endeavour to imprefs your hearts with a 
 fenfe of the duty here commanded, love to God, 
 When we confider the conflitution of the human 
 mind, we muft acknowledge, that whatever is 
 upon the whole conformable to that conftitution, 
 is reafonable. The indulgence of human defire is 
 only then wrong and unreafonable, when the 
 defire is perverted, or. when the indulgence is 
 forbidden by fome power or faculty, which is 
 fuperior or more excellent. Now love is one of 
 the affections of the foul, one of thofe original 
 principles which man has received from the hand 
 
 of 
 
S E R M O N Vr. 87 
 
 of his Creator. Its natural and proper objed is 
 whatever is good, amiable, or worthy in charac- 
 ter. The obfervation of fuch qualities neceffarily 
 excites this affedion ; and when exercifed upon 
 thefe, the moft exalted and divine powers of the 
 mind confent in giving it their fandion. 
 
 When we obferve any perfon remarkable for 
 integrity, or any perfon whofe deljght is to do 
 good, and to fpread happinefs, is it in our power 
 to with-hold our approbation ? Is not our love a 
 tribute, which we are obliged to pay ? When 
 Job fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and ad- 
 miniftered confolation to the diftreffed ; when, in 
 his own expreifive language, he became eyes to the 
 blind, and feet to the lame '^, how natural was it, 
 that love and admiration fhould prompt the 
 young and the old to join in bleffing him, and 
 how readily do the fame fenfations fpring up in 
 our breads when we read his hiftory ? The king 
 who is willing to die, if his people be but fpared ; 
 the hero who bravely facrifices his life for his 
 country ; the patriot whofe conftant toils are 
 employed to fave a finking land, are, even fup- 
 pofing the influence of their a(flions fhould not 
 extend to us, the genuine objects of love and 
 veneration. 
 
 But by the appointment of providence our 
 afFedions are moft Itrongly excited by obje(fls with 
 whiph we have the moft immediate connexion. 
 
 ^]0B xxix, 15, 
 
 Where 
 
88 SERMON VI. 
 
 Where goodnefs or worth appear to be exercifed 
 for promoting our advantage, they raioft quickly 
 raife, and moit firmly attach our love. 
 
 Have you the happinefs of poffefling one 
 whom the world calls your friend, and whofe 
 adions correfpond to that facred name ; who 
 fharcs, and by Iharina; redoubles your joys, who 
 advifes you when doubts overwhelm you, who 
 fmooths the brow of care, and partakes in all 
 your afflidions? Have you a friend of this cha- 
 rader ? Or if you have parents who reared you 
 with the utmoft tendernefs, to whom you were 
 dear as life, what afxedions do you feel arifing 
 in yo :r breafts when you think of them ? are 
 they not thofe of love, and of gratitude, which 
 is nearly allied to love? A is juil as natural to 
 exped thefe in every human mind in fuch cir- 
 comftances, as to expect from a Held properly 
 cultivated, warmed by the kindeft influences 
 of heaven, ' and warmed by its gentl^ll ibowers, 
 a plentiful return of that feed which is fown in 
 it. Is it not reafonable then, nay, U it not 
 unavoidable to love men, when they are 
 Gonfpicuous for good difpofitions and ads of 
 benelicence ? 
 
 Suppose now that the fphere of man's influence 
 were extended, and that the imperfedion which 
 attends him through all the fteps of life were 
 removed, would he not thus be rendered more 
 amiable, and confequently be the objed of the 
 greater love ? As God therefore is not only the 
 molt powerful and the wifeit, but hkewife the 
 
 bell 
 
SERMON VI. 89 
 
 beft of beings, whofe goodnefs is infinite, and 
 whofe tender mercies are o~:er all his iwrks *", does 
 he not jnftly challenge the ntmoft deeree of love ? 
 This truth is no fooncr propofed than it is ac- 
 knowledged by chriftians. But to make not only 
 the underftanding to perceive it, but, the heart al- 
 fo to feel it, let us more particularly confider that 
 perfedion of the divine nature, and thofe exer- 
 tions of it which are fit for enfiaming the affeciion. 
 And, O Father of mercy, while I humbly attempt 
 to delineate a portion of thy goodnefs, let thy 
 grace influence all our hearts, lb as to produce 
 that love to thee which is the ornament of man 
 here, and in which confiils his perfedion and 
 happinefs hereafter. 
 
 As I fpeak to an afiembly who profefs them- 
 felves diiciples of Jefus, I (ball at prefent omit 
 the arguments that tend to eftabliih thofe faifts of 
 of which you already are fufficiently perfuaded. 
 Let us then, my brethren, ftretch our imagina- 
 tions to the utmoft, and contemplate, as well as 
 our narrow faculties will permit, that exalted and 
 infinite Being who has no wants to fupply. View 
 him from eternal ages, enjoying perfed felicity, 
 and incapable of any addition of glory. Yet be- 
 hold at once an ad of the molf unexampled pow- 
 er, and of the moft difinteretted goodnefs. He 
 commands, and numberlcfs worlds arife, reple- 
 nilhed with life, and ftored with the means of 
 happinefs. Thofe worlds w^hich his power and his 
 
 ^ PSALM cxiv. 9. 
 
 goodnefs 
 
5>o S E R M O N VI. 
 
 goodnefs at firlT; formed, his goodnefs and his pow- 
 er ftill preferve, and from the inexhauftible fource 
 of his bounty, all the bleffings that are poilefTed 
 by the various order of beings, thro' the bound- 
 lefs extent of fpace, are foleiy derived. Could 
 the eye of man furvey all thefe worlds, or his un- 
 derftanding comprehend them, how reafonable is 
 it to exped thcit they would all confent, both in 
 declaring the glory, and proclaiming the good- 
 nefs of their Author ! But as it is only a fmali 
 part of his works which we can comprehend, let 
 us, my brethren, confider that fmall part with 
 which we are beft acquainted, and take notice of 
 fome of the moft obvious inftances of divine 
 goodnefs^ 
 
 Observe how the influences of the fun, 
 and the rains which defcend from heaven co-ope- 
 rate with other means in occafioning that never-r 
 ceafing fertility of this earth, by which provifion 
 is made for the neceflities of man, and of every 
 creati re that inhabits it. Does not reafon, as 
 well as religion, teach us to attribute this to the 
 continued energy of nature's fovereign ? Both in- 
 forms us, that the eyes of all things wait upon God, 
 That he openeth his liberal hand^ and fatisjieth the 
 de/ire of every living thing ^. The grateful varia- 
 tions of day and night, the time for adlion, and 
 the time for repofe, he conftituted them. The 
 ufeful changes of the feafons are of his appoint- 
 ment, The n^utual connedion and fubferviency 
 
 ^ PSALM cxlv. 15, 16, 
 
 of 
 
S E R M O N VI. 91 
 
 of the different animals, and their general fub- 
 jedion to man, proceed from his contrivance, 
 Were I able, or did time permit, what an ample 
 fund for difcourfe is here ? All the works of 
 nature, the air which we breathe, the light which 
 dired^s us, the earth which yields us food, the 
 water fo neceffary for our refrefhment, fo ufeful 
 for the commerce of life ; all, when confidered 
 in connexion with the living creatures for whofe 
 fupport they are intended, prefent us with fo 
 many diftind proofs of the goodnefs of their 
 creator. Marvellous are thy ivorks. Lord God 
 almighty ". The heavens and the earth (how 
 forth thy praife. In their continual revolutions, 
 their voice to him that hath underftanding is, 
 The goodnefs of our author and preferver is 
 nnfearchable. But I haften to trace fome of the 
 marks of it with relation to man in particular. 
 Who then beftowed upon thee, O man, that 
 living and immortal foul of which thou art pof- 
 feft ? Did not the almighty give it ; a ray of 
 his own luftre, a particle of divinity to dwell 
 within thee, and dired thee? What conftant 
 exertion of the fame goodnefs, my beloved bre- 
 thern, has been requifite to preferve thofe fouls 
 with which God has indued us ? Through the 
 journey of life, who has cared for you, and 
 conduded you } When you firft faw the light, 
 you entered upon a fcene befet with temptations, 
 furrounded with dangers, and expofed on every 
 fide to llorras and tempefls. To all thefe, by 
 
 ° REVEL. XV. 3. 
 
 your 
 
53 S E R M O N VI. 
 
 your ignorance, inexperience, weaknefs, rafhnefs, 
 you have been a thoufand times laid open. A 
 Ihip this hour Hes fafe in the harbour; the failors 
 are all afleep. By fome unforefeen accident the 
 cables break, and upon a dangerous coaft, the 
 veflel is driven oat to the raging fea, whofe bil- 
 lows every moment are ready to overwhelm her, 
 or dafh her againft the rocks ; yet fo deep a deep 
 hath feized the men, that none awake. This is 
 an emblem, tho' a faint one, of many of the dan- 
 gers of human life; and what but the watchful 
 care of the univerfal Parent could prefer ve us in 
 the midft of them ! 
 
 But can you refled upon no particular known, 
 and ftriking interpofitions of providence in your 
 favour ? Did you never in any inftance fee your- 
 felf fo involved, that human aid /"tho' even this 
 is to be afcribed to God) could not have extrica- 
 t;ed you, and has not the deity appeared to relieve 
 you ? Was you never oppreiTed with fuch fick- 
 nefs and aniidion, that your friends and phyfi- 
 cians have given up every hope of your recovery, 
 and yet you are alive at this day ? Are there no 
 parents here, who have defpaired of their deareft 
 child, whom yet God has been pleafed to reftore 
 to them ^ Is there no hufband who had the im- 
 mediate profpedl of fhedding tears on the grave of 
 the wife of his bofom, who yet lives in happinefs 
 with him? is there no faithful and affedionate 
 wife, who yet retains the father of thofe children, 
 whom her fears have reprefented overwhelmed 
 .with want, and plunged in calamity, when fhe 
 thought flie faw death {Iriking the fatal blow, 
 
 which 
 
S E R M O N VI. S5 
 
 Vvhich nothing but the divine goodnefs prevented? 
 Obferve well your circumftances. Are yoii pof- 
 felTtd of power, bleffed with riches, and favoured 
 with health, happy in your friends, beyond the 
 reach of your enemies? To whofe favour do 
 you owe all thefe mercies ? Who hath exempted 
 you from adding one to the numerous family of 
 the poor, the afflided, the opprefled, and the 
 difconfolate ? Ye fons of joy, amidfl your prof- 
 peri ty, obferve the hand which raifed you up; 
 adore and love his goodnefs. 
 
 But the world and all its blefTings fade and 
 difappear, when I furvey the miraculous difplay 
 of mercy, which this facred book exhibits. Sup- 
 pofe, my brethren, that fome perfon, who pof- 
 ieffes a very large fhare of external enjoyments, 
 whom his fellow-mortals rank among the few that 
 are happy j but whofe views, as he is deftitute of 
 the light of the gofpel, were moflly confined to 
 the prefent life, and as to futurity, were dark, 
 confufed, and uncertain, were to lit down and 
 ferioully confider his condition ; would he not 
 naturally entertain fuch refledions as thefe ? I 
 poffefs many of the enjoyments of life which I fee 
 denied to numbers like myfelf. I poffefs eafe, 
 and often enjoy pleafure, while others are op- 
 preifed with labours, and tormented with pain. 
 But in one thing I am on a level with the mean- 
 eft : I muft die as well as they From undergo- 
 ing this common lot of humanity, all my pofief- 
 fions cannot redeem mc. When I die, whither I 
 fhal go I know not j but experience informs me, 
 that, whenfoever it is, nothing which I prefentlv 
 
 call 
 
^4 S E R M O N Vt. 
 
 call mine can accompany me. I feel my dwfl 
 mind often difquieted by committing anions which 
 I difapprove, and for whidi 1 greatly dread the 
 difpleafure of the Author of my being, to whoni 
 I perceive myfelf accountable. When I leave 
 life, perhaps his indignation^ hitherto fufpended^ 
 may break out, and who knows how miferable I 
 may be ? This damps all my prefent joys^ and 
 how willingly would I part with all I have, in 
 order to be afcertained of happinefs in that ftate 
 which will fucceed the prefent, and which in 
 all probabihty will laft much longer ? Chriftian, 
 learn to prize thy happinefs in being the difciple 
 of a Mafler, who came to free thy mind from 
 fuch uneafy refledions. For when involved in 
 mifery there was no eye to pity us, providence 
 interpofed, and the fcheme w^hich to providence 
 feemed fitteft for accomplilliing man's falvatioii, 
 was by the facrifice of the fon of God. At the 
 appointed time, Jefus, the brightnefs of his Fa- 
 ther s glory ^^ in vvhom dwelt the xvifdom of the 
 mofl: high, affumes our nature, appears among 
 mankind, reveals a religion the mofl pure and the 
 moft perfed, and at laft, to propitiate the juftice 
 of his Father, and to feal the truth of his religion^ 
 expires upon the crofs. Refleifk Upon the advan- 
 tages which you derive from the religion of Jefus : 
 acceptance with God, the pardon of traufgreirion^ 
 peace of mind, and the hopes of everlafting feli^ 
 city, and all this upon the eafy terms of trufting 
 in God, ading like men, and living in conformity 
 
 ''' HEB. f. 3. 
 
 to 
 
S E R M O N VI. 95 
 
 to reafon and confcience. To perfuade you to 
 fuch a behaviour, what motives hath not Jefus 
 laid before you ? How plainly hath he delivered 
 his laws ? how ftrongly hath he enforced them ? 
 by what a perfed, and amiable example doth he 
 excite you ? and how frequently hath he afTured 
 you that the alTiftance of his Spirit is given to 
 ihofe who afk it ? 
 
 Of purpofe till now I deferred confidering the 
 evils of life, as an objedion againft the goodneis 
 of God, becaufe the objedion is moft briefly and 
 moft fatisfadorily anfwered from the chriftian 
 religion. Do you then mourn under misfortunes 
 oppofite to the bleffings I formerly mentioned, 
 under poverty, opprellion, lofs of your deareft 
 friends, ficknefs, and pain ? See your Mafter 
 fuifering the greateft troubles, and yet not com- 
 plaining : and fhall the fervant repine, when his 
 Lord fhares his fate ? But farther, from the lec- 
 tures of Jefus, obferve what he hath often de- 
 clared : I go to prepare a place '^ of repofe and 
 felicity for every follower, who patiently, as I did, 
 endures the troubles of life. The righteous, tho* 
 numbered among the dead, fhall live with me, 
 and their righteous friends fliall meet them here, 
 where the fecond death hath no power. To 
 every fincere chriftian in this houfe hear him 
 farther proclaiming in effcdt: The fleeting days 
 of human life, my friends and followers, condder 
 only as the entry to a divine and immortal life^ 
 
 * JOHN xiv. 2. 
 
 I have 
 
«i6 SERMON VI. 
 
 I have marked out the road to glory. I have 
 opened the gate of this heavenly kingdom. 
 Struggle through the toils of a day, and an eter- 
 nity of biifs with me your Mafter fhall be your 
 reward. Let worldly difappointments and loiFes 
 teach you fubmiifion to your heavenly Father ; 
 let the bleffings of life teaeh you gratitude. Lo 
 here is the place where forrow is no more, where 
 tears are never fbed, where friends never part, 
 and where gratitude and love kindle fuch a flame 
 in the human mind as is at once moft pleaiing 
 to God, and delightful to man. 
 
 Has God, my brethern, given us his own Ton, 
 and through his merits have we accefs to immor- 
 tality ? What is there then that is truly good for 
 us which he will refufe us, after this proof of 
 his mercy ? Can you confider the fupreme Being 
 in thofe engaging lights, as your father, your 
 friend, your fnreft guide through the temptations, 
 dangers and difficulties of life, and your con- 
 ductor to the manfions of everlaftina; felicity j 
 and not be ready to own the reafonablenefs of 
 love to him? Surely you do own it. But, chrifti- 
 ans, this is not fufficient. Do you feel it too ? 
 Does it now burn within you ? Can you fay with 
 fincerity. My foul, O God, is thy workmaiifliip, 
 and with my whole foul I love thee ! 
 
 If you are thus difpofed, you will readily enter 
 into the latter part of this difcourie, which- was 
 defigned to point out fome of the reafons on 
 account of which love to God mav be termed the- 
 firfl and great commandment. 
 
 First 
 
S E R M O N Vr. 97 
 
 First. It may be termed fo, when we confider 
 tlie feeling itfelf and its objed. The former 
 has fomething in it fo difmterefted, fo generous, 
 and noble, that experience teaches us (let the 
 lovers of God bear witnefs) it gives an emotion 
 unfpeakably pleafmg to the fouL It is the affec- 
 tion w^hich, when regulated aright, is freer from 
 alloy than anv other. Fear damps the ardour of 
 the mind. Humility gives it pain. Even grati- 
 tude itfelf, which I ever venerate, is attended 
 "with a fenfc of numerous wants. But love 
 elevates the mind, expands the foul, takes us off 
 from confidering ourfelves at all, and nxes us 
 folely upon its objed." And what is its objed ? 
 Not power ; for power may be unjuftly exercifed: 
 not even wifdom ; for wifdoiii may be fometimes 
 employed in contriving the means of punifhment ; 
 but goodnefs, and benevolence, and the highefl: 
 degrees of thefe perfedions, as they are exhibited 
 in the character of the fupreme mind. 
 
 Secondly, The great importance of love to 
 God will appear, if we confider its effeds. When 
 this principle reigns in the mind, will it not 
 produce univerfal obedience ? What through the 
 gofpel of Jefus is always recorded as the natural 
 effed, and what is always required as the furefi: 
 proof of our loving God ? Is it not obedience to 
 his laws .? Ifj'e love me, keep my commandments ^, 
 Te are my friends, if ye do whatfoever I command 
 you ". He that hath my commandments, cmd keepeth 
 
 ^ JOHN Xiv. I 5. " JOHN XV. 14. 
 
 H them^ 
 
98 SERMON VI. 
 
 ihem^ he it is that loveth me ^ It cannot be other- 
 wife. If we regard him as the befi: of beings, and 
 love him as fuch, will we repine at any aliiidion 
 of his appointment ? Thus rcfignation is grafted 
 on love. If this affedlion prevails in ns, will we 
 account any labour hard, any piece of duty too 
 fevere.'' Thus it becomes the parent of fortitude 
 and patience. In one v/ord, point out to me the 
 man who is iincerely a lover of his Maker, I can 
 alTure you he venerates his laws, and though the 
 infirmities of nature prevail fometim.es over him, 
 in general he obeys them. 
 
 Finally, Love to God is of the higheft im- 
 portance, as it is of the moil cxtenlive duration. 
 There are many of the virtues and graces of the 
 chrifiian life which are defigned only for the 
 preft^nt flate of mankind: the future ftate\^ill 
 rot admit of their exercife. Here the wicked are 
 ready lo provoke and injure, and the chrillian 
 ready to forgive and blefs. Here faith muft be 
 cultivated as the firmeft fupport of goodnefs and 
 integrity of life : But there vilion will come in its 
 place. There the fociety will confift only of 
 the good \ the objedls of refentment fliall never 
 be perceived, and where there can be no pro- 
 vocation there is no fcope for forgivenefs. Even 
 the fear of God, while the vail of mortality pre- 
 vents us from a more complete knowledge of 
 him, continues to be mixed with fomething of 
 the dread, which, when we fhall fee him as he 
 
 ' JOHN xiv. 21. 
 
 is. 
 
S E R M O N VI. 99 
 
 is, beneficent, gracious, and all benign, fliall be 
 ever excluded. But love fhall ever abide, and 
 ever increafe in the human mind. God liath 
 here planted the feed ; the kindly influences of 
 religion foiler it. The cares of the world and 
 the fiorms of life retard its growth ; but in the 
 hearts of good men it continues, though ilowly, 
 ftill to grow. At the death of the moft pious it 
 is only a tender plant ; but when we fhall arrive 
 in happier climes, where no clouds overfhadow 
 the fun of righteoufnefs, it (hall take deeper root, 
 andflourifli with immortal verdure. 
 
 H 2 • S E R. 
 
SERMON VII. 
 
 Matthew xxii. 39. 
 
 And the fecond is like unto it, Thoufnalt love thy 
 neighbour as thy f elf. 
 
 JDLESSED are the peace-makers, for they 
 ^-^ refemhle God, and fliall he called his children ; 
 for ever bleffed be the Saviour of mankind, who 
 not only was, while he dwelt upon this earth, 
 the greateft peace-maker himfelf, but alfo pub- 
 lifhed a religion which was to defcend to lateft 
 ages, the defign of which is to expel enmity out 
 of the world, and to make every man to confider 
 his fellow-creature as his brother, and regard him 
 with the fame affedion with which he regards 
 himfelf. 
 
 In the verfes preceding the text, a lawyer hav- 
 ing enquired of our Saviour, li^hat is thefrf a?id 
 great comma?idment^ he informs him, that It is to 
 love God fmcerely, fervently, and conftantly, and 
 that next to this the duty moft important, is to 
 love our neighbour. By our neighbour, according 
 to tlie fcntiments of our divine Lawgiver, is not 
 
 to 
 
I02 SERMON VII. 
 
 to be underllood, tbofe only who live in the fame 
 corner, or country, who are governed by the 
 fame laws, and fubjed to the fame polity, but 
 all who are conneded by the fame common tie of 
 humanity. It is the command of this lawgiver, 
 that we abound in love to all men, that we offer 
 up fupplications for them, and that we do good 
 to everv perfon as far as we have opportunity, 
 e'penaVy to thofe thai are of the houfJ.old of faith. 
 Prejudices arifing from education, from oppofition 
 of intereft, from diiferences in religion, in the 
 difciples of Jefus, mult not reftrain that univerfal 
 good-will, which it is the very fpirit of Chrift's 
 religion to promote. By his laws the Jews and 
 Samaritans, tho' trained up with a peculiar de- 
 gree of mutual rancour, were to confider each 
 other as neighbours and brethren. Thus every 
 igood chriilian is what the philofopher calls him- 
 felf, a citizen of the world. Engraven upon his 
 heart in inHeiible characters, which you may read 
 in the tenor of his life, are piety and reverence to 
 God, and love and friendfhip to the human 
 race. 
 
 The law of univerfal benevolence prefcribed 
 in the text, is indeed intended to comprehend 
 thofe private, but not lels powerful afiedions, 
 which regard a country, kindred, friends, bene- 
 factors, children, and the poor, from whence 
 arife the virtues of patriotifm, natural affection, 
 gratitude, charity. Benevolence t'^en may becon- 
 fidercd as a leading principle of human nature, 
 upon which all thefe are grafted. It may be 
 compared to a venerable parent, whofe numerous 
 
 offspring 
 
SERMON VII. 103 
 
 ofFspring bear a flrong_reremblance to him, and 
 are at once vigorous, healthy, and graceful. 
 
 But in order to G;ive vou a ftill more clear 
 conception of the precept now before us, let us 
 take notice of fome of the moft Oriking features 
 in the charader of that man who obeys it. The 
 benevolent man wishes well to all ; and though 
 his own power is confined, he recommends them 
 to that power that is unlimited. At the happi- 
 nefs of his fellow creatures he rejoices, and he is 
 grieved for their mifery. He fliews the genuine- 
 nefs of thefe difpofitions, by partaking in the joy 
 of his acquaintance who happen to be fuccefsful, 
 and by mingling his tears w^th thofe of the chil- 
 dren of calamity. This fellow-feeling is not all. 
 He ufes his utmoft efforts to promote the hrippi- 
 nefs of all within his fphere, and to prevent, or 
 alleviate their forrow. Not to defraud, or over- 
 reach, is but tlie lead: part of the praife whicli 
 he deferves. In his commerce with men, thofe 
 rules which others obfervc by conflraint, and from 
 dread of the lav/, he obferves from inclination, 
 from a pure heart and a good confcience. This is 
 the charader of a truly benevolent man. The 
 benevolent chriftian attains a greater perfedion in 
 all thefe virtues by a Heady imitation of that in- 
 exprefTibly benevolent Mediator, who went about 
 continually doing good, encouraging innocent 
 chedrfulnefs, wipin';]; the tear from the eye of for- 
 rovv, rellorlng henlth to the difeafed, and by eve- 
 ry method promoting the temporal and fpiritual 
 advantage of mankind. 
 
 Having 
 
I04 SERMON Vir. 
 
 Having thus explained the precept of loving 
 our neighbour, 1 iliail envieavour in the firft place 
 to point out the reafonablenefs of it 2dly, Make 
 fome remarks upon the degree of this virtue re- 
 quired by our Saviour, Ti.oii Jhalt love try neigu" 
 hour as thy I elf-, and then endeavour to perfuade 
 you to the pradice of it. May this difcourfe pro- 
 ceed from a heart overflowing with benevolence, 
 and prove a means of impreiring you with, or ef- 
 tai Hilling you in this important grace of the 
 gofpel ! 
 
 In the firfl: place, as briefly as poiTible, I fnall 
 endeavour to point out the reafonablenefs of the 
 duty, the love of our neighbour. To difcern the 
 reafonablenefs of any duty there is no more need- 
 ful, but a comparifon of the nature of the being on 
 whom the duty is enjoined, with the duty itfelf; 
 and if it be found agreeable and congruous to that 
 nature, it m.ay be pronounced fit and reafonable. 
 Now the moft fuperficial view of human nature 
 plainly difcovers that benevolence is one of thofe 
 principles of which it is compounded. It does not 
 appear more evident that the eye is made for fee- 
 ing, and the ear for hearing, than that the heart 
 of man is fo conftituted, as to have an attachment 
 to his fellow-creatures. If we faw a perfon take 
 delight in hurting others, and involving them in 
 mifery without being prompted by any particu- 
 lar paiiion. liut folely for the pleafure of doing ill, 
 and becoming the author of mifery, we fbould 
 not hefitate to pronounce that perfon monftrous 
 and unnatural. On the other hand, take any 
 man and place him. in fociety, we always exped 
 
 that 
 
SERMON VIL 105 
 
 that where no contrary paflion that is more pow- 
 erful interferes, he will be ready to deh'ght in, 
 and do good to the members of that fociety ; and 
 this without further view, than obeying the fimple 
 dilates of his own mind. Read the hiftory of 
 mankind, or narrowly obferve the adions which oc- 
 cur every day, and I think there is no poilibility 
 of undcrftanding many fcenes in the former, or of 
 comprehending many appearances of the latter, 
 without fuppofmg a principle of direcf^ benevo- 
 lence (that is, good-will to mankind) implanted 
 in the human mind by its great Creator, abftrad- 
 ed from every view of private intereft, or even of 
 public utility, into which fome have vainly endea- 
 voured to refolve it. 
 
 What has been faid is applicable not only to 
 the general principle, but likewife to the particu- 
 lar virtues into which it may be branched out j 
 fuch as love of our country, natural affedion, 
 gratitude, charity. We all acknowledge the rea- 
 fonablenefs of thefe, by the applaufes we beftow 
 upon thofe who pofTefs them, and the high de- 
 gree of difapprobation, of which we think thofe 
 worthy who are deftitute of them. The man 
 who betrays his country, who is cruel to his pa- 
 rents, ungrateful to his benefadors, or who har- 
 dens his heart againfi the calls of mifery, we ac- 
 count a monfier. Such a perfon, as being depri- 
 ved of the chief charaderifticks of his kind, we 
 call inhuman. He may poffefs the form, but he 
 has (liaken off the nature of a man. Thus bene- 
 volence being a principle in our confiitution, the 
 
 reafon- 
 
io6 SERMON VII. 
 
 reafonablenefs of the precept in the text is evi- 
 dent. 
 
 This would be farther eflabhflied, were we to 
 confider how abfohately and indifpenfably necef- 
 fary, in a certain degree at leaft, it is for the very 
 being and fupport of human hfe. For how long 
 a period of life is man in a helplefs condition, the 
 moil deftitute of all animals, if his fellow-crea- 
 tures did not give him their affiftance ! Exclude 
 the principle of good-will in all its kinds, and the 
 general lot of human life would be a fhort flruggle 
 with mifery extreme ; or rather without that prin- 
 ciple there could be no fuch thing as human life : 
 I am fure, not the leafi: ray of human happinefs. 
 Add to this, that to the higher degree this fecond 
 commandment is obferved, man is in proportion 
 fo much the happier : and were it obferved in per- 
 fedion, the calamities of life would then be as few, 
 as they are at prefent numerous. From thefe con- 
 fiderations, which might have been much enlarged 
 upon, it is evident that the duty prefcribed in the 
 text, is truly fit and reafonable, becoming the na- 
 ture, neceflary for the condition, and produdive 
 of the happinefs of mankind. 
 
 But the duty is not only prefcribed, but like- 
 wife the meafure of it pointed out. Thoujhalt love 
 thy ncighhGiir as thyjelf. 
 
 It is the excellence of our religion, not only to 
 propofe the jufieft, and the beft precepts with re- 
 fped to our fellow-creatures, but alfo to afford us 
 fome marks, taken from what paffes within ourfel ves, 
 
 in 
 
SERMON VII. 107 
 
 in order to enable us to difcern when they are rightly 
 obeyed. Thus our adions are not only command- 
 ed to be honeft, kind, and charitable, but alfo 
 to be fo in that degree, which we could reafona- 
 bly defire thofe of others to .be with regard to 
 ourfelves. Whatfocoer you would that men Jhoiild 
 do unto you ^ do ye alfo unto them ^. And in the 
 text, we are not only commanded to wi(h well to 
 others, and to love them, but alfo informed that 
 our good-will then arrives at the chriftian degree 
 of perfedion, when it is in proportion to that af- 
 fecSlion which refpeds the individual j that is, the 
 principle of benevolence ought to be as vigorous, 
 as the principle of felflove. Defire to promote 
 the good of mankind, equally with our own, is 
 the elevated pitch to which chriflianity would ex- 
 alt its votaries A perfed difciple of Chrift will 
 be as tender about his neighbour's reputation, as 
 he is about his ow^n ; as unwilling to fpread a 
 ilanderous report of another, as he is uneafy to 
 bear one of himfelf J as anxious to promote his 
 brother's advantag^e, and as well pleafed with the 
 attainment of i- , as he is joyful when fomething 
 good happens to himfelf. When he is reproach- 
 ed, felf-love leads him to juftify himfelf; good- 
 will prompts him to jufiify his neighbour whom 
 he hears afperfcd Involve him in want, he feels 
 pain and uneafinefs, but religion and fortitude 
 come in to his aid. If the cafe is his neighbour's, 
 he not only feels pain and uneafinefs on his ac- 
 count, but he employs all his efforts to relieve 
 
 "^ MATTHEW Vii. 12. 
 
 him. 
 
io8 SERMON VII. 
 
 him. Let the firft difciples of Chrift bear tefti- 
 mony to this charader. They felt no want, but 
 what was common. They knew no pain but 
 what every one was wilhng to take his (hare 
 ot ; no joy but what every heart made its own. 
 They indeed confidered tliemfelves as rnemhers of 
 the J i' me bod)\ and aded in every refped hke 
 thofe who beheved the juftice of this allufion. 
 
 The reafonablenefs of our Saviour's precept 
 of lovjng others as we love ourfelves may be dif- 
 cerned if we attend to this, that benevolence is 
 the principle by w^iich we regard feveral indivi- 
 duals of the fpecies, felf-love that by which we 
 regard one individual. When we confider the 
 two feelings in this refped, they appear direded 
 to objeds exadly alike, and therefore ought to be 
 equal. 
 
 Be for e Heave this head, I fhall only make tw^o 
 remarks, as to the wifdom of fixing the degree of 
 our felf-love as the meafure of our good-will to 
 others. — In the firfl: place, as felf-love is generally 
 a very ftrong principle in mankind, the precept, 
 as delivered in our text, may prove a ftrong 
 incitement to thofe who confefs the obligation of 
 it, to increafe their good-wiil. Secondly, as felf- 
 love is very often apt to exceed its jiift bounds, 
 the confideratlon of its inferiority to our benevo- 
 lence may lead us to endeavour, while we aim at 
 increaiing the latter, to bring the other to a more 
 allowable pitch. 
 
 The nature of the fubjed has drawn me into 
 fome rcafoning that may, to fome capacities, ap- 
 pear 
 
SERMON VII. 109 
 
 pear rather too abftradlcd ; tho^igh I have endea- 
 voured to exprefs myfelf as clearly as I could. 
 The fum of what has been faid is this : The love 
 of our neighbour is altogether reafonable in itfelf, 
 being conformable to that conflitution which God 
 has given us. Confined to no fed, party, or 
 clafs of men; it ought to be univerfal. Beildes 
 this general principle of good-will, there are other 
 feparate principles, which attach us more ftrongly 
 to our particular connexions ; but thefe are 
 likewife comprehended in the text ; and though 
 they may encreafe the for. e of the former with 
 regard to thofe particulars, they ought not to 
 weaken it with regard to the whole. By the 
 perfed rule of our religion, a chriftian cannot 
 reft fatisfied with any meafure of good-will to 
 others, below what he bears to himfelf. O reli- 
 gion truly divine, which thus, by ftriking at the 
 great root of our vices, an intolerable degree of 
 felfifhnefs, and a difrea^ard to others, would at 
 once cure us of them all, and render us like the 
 angels in heaven, who in that happy clime, under 
 the benign influences of the fun of righteoufnefs, 
 overflow with love and charity! Let me novv^, 
 my beloved brethern, perfuade you to the prac- 
 tice of the duty, upon which we have been 
 difcourfing, by prefenting to you fome of the 
 moft obvious and ftrongeft motives. 
 
 In the firft place, a generous, open, and be- 
 nevolent heart, is ev^er attended with the mofl: 
 genuine pleafurc; for to the exercife of love, 
 gratitude, kindnefs, providence has annexed a 
 moft pure and unmixed joy. The mind of man 
 
 is 
 
no S E R M O N VII. 
 
 is defirous to grafp a large objed, and pleafed 
 with the conception of it; but are not the human 
 race, our connedion with them, a defire of their 
 happinefs, truly grand and pleaiing conceptions ? 
 Does the man, think you, whofe fituation puts 
 it out of his power to extend his good deeds to 
 mankind, feel no fatisfadion in dilating his foul, 
 to wilh well to the whole, in recommending them 
 to the univerfal parent, in fhedding the generous 
 tear, when a tear is all he has to beftow, over 
 the children of afilidion ? Afk himfelf He will 
 inform you, that the goods of this world lliould 
 never be a bribe for him, to fteel his heart againft 
 the calamities of the unfortunate, or deprive him 
 of the joy of ranging through the great circle of 
 God's creation, to wifh well to all rational beings. 
 A contraded temper is always fretful, peevifh, 
 and difquieted. The fources of its oleafures mufi: 
 iiecelTarily be few and fcanty ; whereas a benevo- 
 lent difpofuion is not only a fource of the higheft 
 delight in itfelf, but it leaves a man open to the 
 feveral gratifications of this life, and to all the 
 innocent enjoyments that man is heir to, This 
 temper both ^ives a relifh to a perfon's own 
 proper pleafures, and appropriates to him thofe 
 of his fellows-creatures.' He rejoices with thofe 
 that rejoice; and even when in the houfe of 
 mourning he weeps with them that weep, there 
 is a fecret charm which more than repays the? 
 forrow. 
 
 Again, would you wifli to ad properly fo as 
 to obtain the approbation of your fellow-creatures, 
 and to appear amiable in their eyes ^ There is 
 
 not 
 
S E R M O N VII. in 
 
 not Co effedual a method to procure the eftecm 
 and love of mankind, as to willi well to them, 
 and to convince every one with whom you have 
 intercourfe, that you have their happinefs at 
 heart. Sympathy is the great bond of union 
 among human fouls. To raife any afFedion in 
 the breafl of another, the mod direct courie is to 
 Ihcw a fimilar one in your own. Thus the man 
 poiTefied of the moil generous and unlimited 
 good-will, who confiders his fellow-creatures as 
 fo many of his brcthern, and is ftedfait in all the 
 oinces of humduity, kindnefs and charity, is fure 
 no^ only to be the obje£l of approbation, but alfo 
 the objcd of affciflion. Who is the fovereign 
 that gains the afFedion of his people, the general 
 that obtains the good-will of his army, the 
 magiftrate that attaches the regard of his citizens, 
 the neighbour whom all that know fpeak well of? 
 Is it not he, w^ho {news that he defer ves to be 
 beloved, by firft loving thofe with whom he is 
 conneded.? Refled upon the charaders which 
 always have been, and always are nonfidered as 
 ■ the moft amiable and engaging, and the circum- 
 flances which have made them be thought fo; 
 are they not thofe who have either been lovers 
 of mankind, and of their country, or the friends 
 of the flitherlefs and of the poor ? Hath not hiflo- 
 ry confecrated to immortality thofe who in hea- 
 then times impelled by a falfe religion, but with 
 a view to fave their country, willingly devoted 
 themfelves to deftrudion ? Such an efFed had 
 this patrotifm on thofe wdio were witneffes of it, 
 that their veneration carried them beyond all 
 rcafonable bounds, in fo much that they paid 
 
 them 
 
112 SERMON VII. 
 
 them divine honours. It mufl be owned that 
 with the greateft juftice the memory of thofe 
 heroes is to this day highly regarded. 
 
 When we read that Mofes abandoned the 
 pleafures of a court, and of vice, for the fake of 
 his people ; when we confider his continual 
 watchings for their happinefs, his prayers for 
 their recovery after they had offended, his mild 
 forbearance with their froward and rebellious 
 temper; do Vv^e not behold him in the m oft en- 
 gaging view that man can be exhibited in ? The 
 fplendour of David's crown and the luftre of his 
 royalty are quite eclipfed by the glory of the man, 
 when we fee rcmorfe for his fin, and love for 
 his people, prompting thefe generous fentiments. 
 / havejinned : hut for thefe fheep what have they 
 done ^ Let thy hand be againf me and againfi my 
 father's houfe ^, How amiable is the charader of 
 the mofl patient man, who in the depth of his 
 difirefs, was able to make this noble appeal to 
 heaven. Did I not weep for hm that ivas in trou- 
 ble ^ JVas not my foul grieved for the poor ^f I was 
 eyes to the blind^ and feet was I to the lame ; the 
 bleffing of him. that was ready to perifh came upo?i 
 me^ a?id I caiifed the widow's heart to fng for joy °, 
 But above all, how divinely engaging is the cha- 
 radcr of Chrifl Jefus. who (hewed the mofl illuf- 
 trious iriflance of good-will to men that the 
 world ever faw \ for he came to be a ranfom for 
 
 " I CHRON. Xxi. 17. *=J0B XXX. 25. 
 
 "job xxxi. 13. 15. 
 
 many, 
 
SERMON VII. J13 
 
 many, and to purchafe their redemption; he led 
 a hfe of unexampled forrow, and fuffered a death 
 overwhehiiing to all the powers of humanity. 
 Greater love hath no man than this^ that a man 
 
 Jhould lay down his life for his friends; but God 
 commendeth his love to us^ in that while we were 
 
 yet finners Chrift died for us'^. O Jefus, let all 
 nations bow down before thee, and let all people 
 praife thee, for thy love to mankind is inexpref* 
 fible! 
 
 But finally, brethern, confider, as a motive to 
 engage you to univerfal good-will, and to all the 
 offices of kindnefs and charity, that this is the 
 only way truly to (hew yourfelves the difciples 
 of Chrift Jefus. By this Jh all all men hiow that ye 
 are my difc'ples^ if ye love one another. This, faith 
 he, is my commandment, that ye love one another, as 
 I have loved you -, and again, a ?iew commandment I 
 give unto you, that ye love one another ". Deceive 
 not yourfelves -, if the fpirit of love dvvelleth not 
 in you, ye are ftrangers to the povv'er of Chrift's 
 religion. You may wear the appearance of 
 religion, but if you be addidcd to ill-will, hatred, 
 revenge, uncharitablenefs, though you fhould 
 artfully endeavour to conceal them, in the fight 
 of God you are at beft but whited fepulchres, 
 and to you the new teftament applies all the 
 woes pronounced againft the Pharifees, thofe 
 hypocritc:s of old, by the infallible Teacher of 
 mankind. Above all things, then, my brethern, 
 
 ^ JOHN XV. 13. ROM. v. 0. ' JOHN xiii. 34, 35. 
 
 I have 
 
114 SERMON VII. 
 
 have fervent charity, and remember that this 
 commandment we have from Chrift, that he who 
 loveth God^ love his brother alJo^\ If you have 
 any refentments, now lay them afide. If you 
 have a contracted fpirit, give yourfelves no reft 
 till you overcome it ; and put on^ as the ele6i of 
 God^ holy and beloved^ bowels of mercies^ kindnels^ 
 humblenefs of mind^ meeknefs^ longfuffen'ng^ 
 
 forbearing one another^ and forgiving one another^ if 
 any man have a quarrel againji any ; even as Chrijl 
 
 forgave you^ fo alfo do ye j aiid above all thefe 
 things^ put on charity^ which is the bond of per ^ 
 
 fedinejs ". 
 
 * I JOHN iv. 21. " COL. ill. 12, I3, I4. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON VIII. 
 
 Colossi A Ns iii. 14. 
 
 j4nd above all thefe things^ put on charity^ which Is 
 the bond of perfe5inefs. 
 
 A H E fame word which in this verfe, and in 
 feveral other parts of the new teftament is tran- 
 flated charity^ is alfo frequently rendered love^ 
 Thus JValk in love ^ ; follow after righteoii/ne/s' 
 godlinefs, faith, love ^. I may further remark to 
 you, that the word is derived from that which 
 our Saviour ufes in the following paffages, and 
 many others of the fame import. Then fait love 
 thy neighbour as tlyjelf^. This is rny comma?idnient , 
 that ye love one another^. By this expreilion, the 
 bo?id of perfeElnefs^ is meant, that this love or cha- 
 rity is the moft perfed bond of human fociety, 
 that it is that virtue which, if properly exerted, 
 would retain men in the pradicc of all thofe du- 
 ties which they owe to one another, and prevent 
 
 * EPH. V.2. I TIM. VI. II. "-MATTH. XIX. I9, 
 
 ^ JOHN XV. 12. 
 
 I 2 thofe 
 
ii6 SERMON Vlll. 
 
 thofe vices which occafion fo much difturbaiice 
 and prefent mifery. 
 
 From thefe words I might properly draw feve- 
 ral fubjeds of difcourfej but I purpofe only at 
 this time to explain the nature and properties of 
 chrifiian charity. 
 
 Charity may be defined that difpofition 
 which inchnes us to think and fpeak well of our 
 fellow-creatures, and to deal kindly wnth them. 
 Mere benevolence, or good-will, regards the be- 
 neficence of our anions, and our difpofition to do 
 good. Charity includes this, but refpeds more 
 immediately the fentiments and affedions which 
 we feel towards others. Under the definition now 
 given, are comprehended various virtues, to which 
 in the ordinary intercourfes of life we give diffe- 
 rent names. Thus it comprehends candour in our 
 judgments, fairnefs in our adions, humanity and 
 kindnefs in our whole behaviour. It alfo implies 
 the abfence of feveral of the blackefl vices of 
 human nature, malice, envy, falfenefs, deceit, 
 cruelty, oppreffion, flander. Charity in this ref- 
 ped may be compared to a liberal fountain, giving 
 rife to a large river, which in its courfe divides 
 itfclf into feveral branches, and difperfes health 
 and plenty over the country thro' w^hich it runs. 
 And as this difpofition of mind we are confider- 
 ing may properly be denominated the parent of 
 many diftind virtues; fo it may be remarked, 
 that a fmall variation intheobjeds towards which 
 it is cxercifed occafions its being called by differ- 
 ent appellations. Thus, our love to mankind is 
 
 termed 
 
SERMON VIII. 117 
 
 termed benevolence; our love to our country, 
 pairiotifm ; our love to our friends, friendftilp ; 
 our love to our kindred or families, affetflion. 
 Neither is it furprizing that from the fame fim- 
 ple original quality fliould proceed fuch various 
 and extenfive efFeds. We may obferve in the na- 
 tural v^-orld, that from the fame feed arife many 
 l^alks, each containing many ears of the fame 
 kind that vvas fown. From a fmall feed arifeth a 
 tree with a trunk, branches, and leaves, between 
 which and the feed depofited in thp ground, the 
 moi\ fharp-fighted can trace no refemblance, and 
 which produccth in its turn many feeds of the 
 fame kind. There is alikenefs and analogy be- 
 tween thefe things and the principles of our minds; 
 or perhaps the qualities of the latter admit ftill of 
 greater and more furprifing variations. The fim- 
 ple, original qualities of our mind are probably 
 not very numerous ; but they are, as it were, 
 feeds fown by the hand of the Creator,' which 
 gradully expand themfelves, grow up, and affumc 
 very various and diftind appearances. The fim- 
 ple quality itfelf requires fome abftradion and at- 
 tention to obferve it ; like a fmall feed, fcarcely 
 vifible to the naked eye, but its effeds are ob- 
 vious to every perfon. 
 
 As charity therefore comprehends fo many vir- 
 tues, and has fuch extenfive influence on the con- 
 dud of life, both in impelling to that which is 
 right, and in retraining from that which is wrong ; 
 it will be much more ufeful to confider it with 
 refped to its efFeds and confequences, than to re- 
 gard it merely in an abftrad light. And to ren- 
 der 
 
ii8 SERMON VIII. 
 
 der what I have to fay as pradical as pofTible, I 
 fhall confider the iniiuence of charity upon the 
 mind and behaviour of a chriOian v^nth refped to 
 the world ; with refped to his country; with ref- 
 ped to thofe whom he. is conneded in the fame 
 city, neighbourhood, or fociety ; with rcfped to 
 thofe who differ from him in religious principles 
 or opinions -, Vv^th refped to his enemies ; and 
 with refped the vicious and abandoned. 
 
 First, Let us confider the effed of charity 
 with refped to the world. The furvey of the 
 narrownefs of our prefent powxr and fphere of ac- 
 tion, of the extent of our capacity of thought and 
 perception, gives us the profped of a contraft that 
 is very wonderful. Our power of beftowing hap- 
 pinefs upon others, or procuring it to ourfelves is 
 very limited ; but our thought can range from one 
 region to another, and travel with the lightning 
 of heaven. Before we can move thofe clogs of 
 mortality which we wear, from one ftreet to ano- 
 ther, our imaginations are able to encompafs the 
 globe, or to vifit the ftars. We find that the de- 
 fires and affedions of our nature are not fuited 
 to our powers of adion, but to our capacity of 
 thought and imagination ; and the man who en- 
 tertained no wifhes, inclinations, or propenfions, 
 but fuch as his prefent power could gratify or ac- 
 complifh, would be fcarce fuperior to a reptile, 
 notwithflanding his form., When we compare 
 our connedions and acquaintance, thofe with 
 whom we interchange mutual good offices, with 
 the general body of mankind, they are limited 
 within very narrow bounds, and confined to a ve- 
 
SERMON VIII. 119 
 
 ry fmall number: but there is a ftrong law, the 
 law of humanity, which conneds us with all who 
 are endowed with the fame nature. No impaf- 
 flible mountains, no innavigable oceans, no in- 
 hofpita'ole deferts, are boundaries to intercept the 
 force and authority of this law. Like the fun it 
 extends its heat and its influence to the utmoft 
 corner of the earth, and proves a conneding prin- 
 ciple with all our fellow-creatures. 
 
 Suitable to this general and extend ve law of 
 humanity, chriilian charity requires that we wifh 
 well unto all, and offer fupplications to God upon 
 their account. I exhort ^therefore ^ fays the apoftle 
 to Timothy, that fupplications^ prayers^ intercef- 
 Jionsy andgivi?ig of thanks be made for all 7nen ^. 
 
 By our neighbour, according to our Saviour's 
 religion, is not to be underftood, one who lives 
 in the fame country, who is governed by the fame 
 laws, or fubjed to the fame polity ; but every one 
 who is endowed with the fame nature. To every 
 fuch perfon, whether Chriftian, Jew, Pagan, or 
 Mahometan, we are to abound in love, and to do 
 good v.'henever we have opportunity. A good 
 chriftian, when he thinks of the miferies, blind- 
 nefs, errors, and vices which prevail in the world, 
 will furcly out of a pure heart, and a good con- 
 fciencc, pray to the Father of mercy to remove 
 tjiem, and in the fervour of his fpirit, and the fin- 
 cerity of his love, willi that all the kingdoms of the 
 
 '"' I TIM. ii. I, 
 
 earth 
 
120 SERMON Vlll. 
 
 earth niay become the kmg(^oms ofoiirGod^ and of his 
 Jon Jejus Chrifl. 
 
 Secondly, Let us conilder the influence of cha- 
 rity upon the temper and condudof a chriftian with 
 refped to h.is country. As the Almighty has di- 
 vided men into kingdoms and nations upon tlie 
 face of the earth, it is a part of the conilitution 
 of providence that v.e recciv-e particular benefits 
 from certain laws, governments, and trads of 
 country. This gives us a particular connexion 
 with certain communities, and in a well-difpofed 
 mind confers upon the principle of charity, the 
 modification of love of our country. Now chari- 
 ty in this refped obligeth us to pray for the prof- 
 perity ofour country, and to contribute to it as 
 far as is in our power. It requires us to pay a 
 deference to the laws, and to refpevft and obey our 
 lawful governors, to contemn honours, power, 
 or intereft, when they cannot be obtained in a 
 confiftence with the laws j and to facrifice private 
 and partial views to the happinefs of the ftate. 
 Thefe are general obligations upon every man : 
 neither are they to be reckoned hard or fevere ; 
 for in experience, I believe it will be found, that 
 the love of our country, reverence and obedience 
 to its laws, prove the fiireft path to the true hap- 
 pinefs of individuals. And furely the confidera- 
 tion of tlie free and happy conilitution under 
 which we live, of the general juftice and equity 
 ofour laws, of the fecurity that is commonly pof- 
 feffed not onlv for our lives, but for our interefls 
 and property, ought to- ftrengthen and increafe 
 
 in 
 
SERMON VIII. 121 
 
 in every Briton this fentiment of love to his 
 country. 
 
 That what has been now advanced is entirely 
 agreeable to the fpirit and tenor of the fcripture, 
 is manifeft. With v^-hat warmth does every Je v 
 fpeakof the city of Jeriifalem, and of that people who 
 were feparated by the Lord from ail the nations of 
 the earth ? How affectionat^^Jy does our Saviour 
 fpeak of the flime people, and what earneftnefs 
 and anxiety does he difcover for their welfare ! 
 But ftiil farther ; tho' at the time of his coming 
 they were retained in fubjedion to a foreign pow- 
 er, fo far from encouraging any rebel! )-.'US fenti- 
 ments againft their conquerors, or uling any 
 means, as they imagined, that he would, to deli- 
 ver them from their oppreffion, he teaches that it 
 was their duty, to render imto Ccsjar the things that 
 are Co: far ^ % and refufes not himfelf the jurifdic- 
 tion of a court, where a governor of his appoint- 
 ment prelided. The dodrine that is delivered in 
 the 1 3th chapter of the epirtle to the Romans is 
 entirely conformable to thefe fentiments. Let 
 every foul beJubjeSf unto the higher powers^ (fays the 
 apoftle) for there is no power but of God : the pow- 
 ers that be are or darned of God : Whofoever therefore 
 refifteth the power ^ re/if eth the ordinance of God, 
 JVherefore ye muft not only be fubjecJ for wrath^ 
 hut for con fcience fake. What has been before faid 
 relates to the duty of men in general with refpe*^ 
 to their country. I may add, that the principle 
 
 ^ MARK xii. 14. 
 
 of 
 
122 SERMON VIII. 
 
 of love of our country lays particular obligations 
 upon men in particular circumftances. Thus it 
 is the duty of the ftatefman to confult and delibe- 
 rate for the good of his country, of all officers of 
 juiiice to adminifter equity impartially, of the fol- 
 dier and failor to encounter the enemies of the 
 ftate with bravery, and of all who have any pub- 
 lic trnft to execute it with integrity. 
 
 Thirdly, Let us confider the influence of the 
 law of charity with refped to thofe who live in the 
 fame city, neighbourhood, or fociety. There are 
 many whofe views are fo narrow, and whofe 
 knowledge is {o confined, that they fcarcely form 
 lo themfelves conceptions of the general body of 
 mankind, or even of that large community of 
 which they are members. We feel ourfelves 
 niore ready to pity the ic;noraRce, than to condemn 
 the vice ot fuch men. But there are none who 
 have the natural ufe of reafon, who are not fen- 
 fible of their connedion with their fellow-citizens, 
 or neighbours, or with that particular fociety or or- 
 der of men to which they belong. And here, if 
 all the efteds of love and charity were to be with- 
 held, the foundations of focietv would be over- 
 turned. Our ftate would be much worfe than 
 that of thofe miferable favages who live in the 
 woods, fupport themfelves upon the fruits which 
 nature fpontaneoullv produces, and fear a foe in 
 every man they meet. From the conilitution of 
 providence the boaf^ of abfolute independence, or 
 even of independence upon our fellow- creatures is 
 altogether vain and chimerical. In focial life how 
 could the rich be cloathed or fed, or have their 
 
 houfes 
 
SERMON VIII. 123 
 
 houfcs furiiifhed, or their numerous wants fup- 
 piied, if it were not for the poor, the laborious, 
 and the indullrious ? What is the title of a fove- 
 rcis,n if he has no fubjeds, but an emptv name? 
 What ardi ous deed could a general perform, if 
 he were deferted by all his troops ? 
 
 In human life we are linked together by a 
 chain formed by the hand of Omnipotence, and 
 to this conne(fiioa both duty and neceifity faiould 
 engat;e us to iubmit. With regard therefore to 
 thofe of our fellow-creatures with whom we have 
 immediate intercourfc, the law of charity oblig- 
 cth us to ad with all fairnefs, honefty, fmcerity, 
 and kindnefs. It obligeth the rich to refufe the 
 gains of oppreffion, to be mild, merciful, ready 
 to relieve the wants of the indigent, and comp,:f- 
 lionate the wretched brethern of their nature. 
 It obligeth thofe in an inferior ftation to be juft 
 and faithful in their fervice, fubmiffive in their 
 behaviour, and grateful for the good offices they 
 reeeive. It obligeth all men to be candid in their 
 interpretation of one anothers adions and inten- 
 tions, to bear with one anothers frailties, and to 
 forgive each others faults. Such behaviour every 
 perfon expecfls, and thinks rcafonable with regard 
 to himfelf J and no rule can be more equitable, 
 than to do to others as wc would that others 
 fhould do to us. 
 
 But in fociety the charadcrs of men, and the 
 relations on which we ftand to them arc fo dif- 
 ferent, that the application of the law of charitv 
 
 is 
 
124 SERMON VIII. 
 
 is almoft infinitely varied. To explain more fully 
 the nature of this virtue, let us confider, 
 
 Fourthly, The efFeds it will produce with 
 refped to thofe who differ from us in religious 
 principles and opinions. Upon this fubjetl there 
 are two oppofite fentiments ; both of which feem 
 to me to be erroneous. 
 
 First, Some think, that error in religious prin- 
 ciple is fo fatal and damnable, that they can have 
 no good thoughts of thofe men who entertain it, 
 and cannot believe that any who are fo unaccept- 
 able in the fight of God can be entitled to any 
 particular offices of kindnefs or charity, and if 
 they would fpeak out, fcarcely to the common 
 duties of humanity. Such fentiments fliock all 
 our feelings. Our Saviour difapproves of them 
 in the flrongefl manner, when he rebukes the 
 forward zeal of his followers who defired to de- 
 ftroy thofe that refufed to admit him into their 
 city, by calling for fire from heaven. Surely men 
 who think in this way, know not what fpirit 
 they are of ^. 
 
 On the other hand, many feem to think, that 
 there is no neceifity nor propriety in giving one's 
 felf concern about religious opinions, provided 
 the pradice be upright and honeii. But certain- 
 ly truth deferves our fearch. Jufi opinions in- 
 fluence our condud in many degrees. In many 
 
 " LUKE ix. 54, 55. 
 
 inflances, 
 
SERMON VIIL 125 
 
 inftances, even in ways that we cannot now con- 
 ceive, they may promote our future happinefs, 
 or imder the government of God, the want of 
 them may occafion much future wretchednefs and 
 diftrefs. To maintain pure, therefore, the faith 
 that we beheve to have been delivered to the 
 faints, is our duty ; and zeal in the propagation 
 of it becomes a chriftian. But what is that zeal ? 
 Is it the zeal of a furious party-man, of an 
 enthufiaft, or a perfecutor ? No ; thefe charaders 
 are deteftable. Is it not then the zeal of a reafon- 
 able enquirer, of an honeft and a good man, 
 who truly believes, and firmly maintains his 
 opinions, w'ho at the fame time that he endea- 
 vours to redify the errors of his fellow-creatures, 
 yet pities thofe who are mifled by thefe errors, 
 becaufe he knows himfelf to be expofed to error ? 
 Is it a zeal about modes, ceremonies, and the 
 externals of religion ? Or is it about matters of 
 which the importance is obvious ? Surely the 
 latter. A man may properly think that nothing 
 relating to religion is of fo little confequence as 
 not to engage his attention ; but the weightier 
 matters of the law will employ his thoughts much 
 more than the lefs weighty. 
 
 Christian charity will then engage the man 
 who is aduated by it to differ with temper, to 
 reafon with moderation, to try to convince by 
 the weight of his arguments, not by the violence 
 of his paffions. He knoweth that the wrath of 
 maji workcih. net the righteoujhefs of God ", The 
 
 " JAMES i. 20. 
 
 Jervmit 
 
126 SERMON VIII. 
 
 Jervant of the Lord will not Jirive^ hut be gentle 
 unto all nien^ apt to teach^ patient^ in meeknefs 
 inRru5ii77g them that oppofe themfelves \ As he 
 will try to convince, fo he will be ever open to 
 hear, and to vi^eigh the reafons of his adverfaries. 
 Senfible of the w^eaknefs of human nature, and 
 in how different lights the fame thing appears to 
 different men, yea even to the fame man at dif- 
 ferent times, he will ftill maintain his differences 
 \n the bond of peace. He will not affume the 
 ftrange work of the Lord, or denounce the judg- 
 ments of heaven ; but rather hope that in fome 
 future period, both he himfclf and thofe that 
 oppofe him may be brought to fee more clearly, 
 and have all their errors difpelled. Let Maho- 
 metans employ the fword to bring men to the 
 obedience of their prophet, and to reduce them to 
 uniformity in religion ; but O that chrifiians ne- 
 ver had forgot that the voice which ufhered in 
 their Mafter into the world proclaimed peace on 
 earth and good- will to men, and that the weapons 
 by which he eftablifhes his kingdom are not 
 carnal, but fpiritual! 
 
 Fifthly, Let us confider in what manner 
 chriflian charity fhould engage us to behave to 
 our enemies. 
 
 There is no principle In human nature more 
 apt to exert itfelf than refentment, when we 
 meet with any treatment that we judge improper, 
 undeferved, or feverc. The firfl: feeling is natu- 
 ral, unavoidable, and necelTary in the prefent 
 iituation of mankind ; but the due moderation 
 
 ' 2 TIM. ii. 24, 25. 
 
 and 
 
SERMON VIII. 127 
 
 nnd reftraint of it commonly expofes us to one of 
 the hardeft trials that we meet with in life. Here- 
 in then confifls the vidory and triumph of the 
 chrifiian, that the greateft and mofl unprovoked 
 injuries he always abftains from revenging. His 
 honefty and his candour are too great not to let 
 his enemy know% that he is fenfible of the ill- 
 treatment he has met with, but his charity and 
 felf-government are fo great, that he fufFers no 
 injurious expreffion to pafs his lips ; and were his 
 foe in his power, his firft attempt would be to 
 reclaim him by meeknefs, gentlenefs, and true 
 greatnefs of mind; and upon his repentance, he 
 would cordially be reconciled to him, and receive 
 him as his brother. If that were rendered im- 
 pradicable, the utmoft length he would go would 
 be to deprive him of the power of repeating the 
 like injuftice; or if his crime deferved the inter- 
 polition of the magiflrate, he might deliver him 
 to the jufi: punifhment of the laws ; but every 
 impartial fpedator might obferve the uneafinefs 
 he felt at being compelled to fuch feverity. 
 
 Do you think this pitch of virtue farpaiTes 
 human nature ? We fometimes, though rarely, 
 fee that pride produceth this forgivenefs, as think- 
 ing the perfon who has offended below conlide- 
 ration : and fhall the nobleft virtue of the human 
 heart be thought lefs powerful upon all occasion 
 than a bad quality is fometimes ? I am fure no 
 duty can be more plainly required, or more ftrong- 
 ly infifted upon, than this great duty is in the 
 gofpel. Ifihy brother^ fays our Saviour, trefpn/s 
 againji thee^ rebuke him ; and if he repent, forgive 
 
 him I 
 
 s 
 
128 SERMON Vlir. 
 
 him ; and if he trefpafs ogainji ihee [even times irt a 
 day^ and feven times in a day turn again to thee, 
 Joying, I repent, thou Jh alt forgive him ^. Upon 
 every interpretation that thefe words will admit, 
 they fhow that the chriftian muft carry this tem- 
 per of forgivenefs to the higheft pitch. Again, 
 fays our Saviour, Love your e?iemies, hiejs them 
 that curje you, do good te them that hate you, and 
 pray for them that deJpitefuUy ufeyou, and projecute 
 you ^. The fame virtue is ftrongly recommended 
 in that parable w^hich is contained in the ;Sth 
 chapter of Matthew, where the king is reprelbnt- 
 ed as taking an account of his fervants, and pu- 
 nishing that one feverely who fliewed no mercy 
 to his fellow. It concludes with thefe remarkable 
 words. So likewife Jhall my heavenly Father do alfo 
 nnto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every 
 one his brother their trejpaffes. 
 
 Lastly, Let us confider the influence of 
 chriftian charity on our behaviour with refpecft to 
 the vicious and abandoned. A hatred of vice is 
 natural to an upright mind, and the feeling this is 
 one of the ftrongeft fymptoms of a good difpofiti- 
 on, and one of the fureft guards of virtue. That 
 we fhould incline to affociate with the juft, and 
 feel a ftronger attachment to them, and that 
 on the contrary we lliould abftain from the com- 
 pany of the vicious, is furely lawful, prudent, 
 and commendable. But there are many occafions 
 in life, where unlefs, as the apoftle fpeaketh, we- 
 
 ^ LUKE Xvii. 3. ^' MATTH. v. 24. 
 
 ' nsoere 
 
SERMON VIII. 129 
 
 were to go out of the worlds we cannot avoid meet- 
 ing with the impious, the unjuit, and the intem- 
 perate. It would perhaps be neither good for 
 them, nor for ourfelves, that we refolved never 
 to meet with them. The worft are ftill conned- 
 ed with us while in this world, by the great tie of 
 humanity ; and when we confider the mifery of 
 vice, and the future punifhment that awaits it, a 
 charitable mind is apter to commiferate than to 
 deteft. 
 
 In thefc inftances, charity therefote obligeth us 
 to take all proper opportunities of inftruding, of 
 admonifliing, of reproving, of lliewing our difap- 
 probation of the crime, and yet our love of the 
 criminal. Of all the weapons ever yet devifedj 
 to bend the wills, alter the temper, and fubdue 
 the hearts of men, fe verity, fournefs, bitternefs, 
 anger, are the leaft agreeable to a good mind, 
 and the leaft fuccef^ful in themfelves. Whereas 
 meeknefs, gentlenefs, and yet firmnefs, the awe 
 and authority of virtue, without the forbidding 
 air of ftubbornnefs, the foft and amiable charms 
 of true goodnefs, the generofity of fyn^pathy, the 
 mild, yet penetrating words prompted by thefe 
 difpofitions, prove the moft powerful means, and 
 have the ftrongeft influence in gaining finners, in 
 rcftraining them from vice, and in winning over 
 willing fubjecls to the interefts of true religion. 
 
 K S E R^ 
 
S E R M O N IX. 
 
 P^ALM li. 17* 
 
 The facrifices bfGod are a broken Jpirit j a broken 
 and a contrite hearts, God^ thou wilt not defpifi. 
 
 It is extremely probable that this pfalm, in which 
 the fentiments of a true penitent are fo ftrongly 
 exprefTed, was corapofed by David, after a fenfe 
 of his guilt had been raifed by the afFeding para- 
 ble of Nathan^ which we read in the xiith chapter 
 of the fecond book of Samuel, and of which the 
 occafion and confequences are fo well known. 
 This whole compoiition difcovers a mind over- 
 whelmed with forrow, agitated with remorfe, ear- 
 ned for mercy, and penetrated with all that varie- 
 ty of emotions, which the refledion upon flagrant 
 crimes, when it is neither blunted by obduracy 
 nor irritated by defpair^ fo naturally infpires. 
 
 In compofitions of this kind, we are not to ex- 
 ped a ftrid connexion of thought. Such a con- 
 nexion would totally deftroy their beauty, and be 
 a lure proof that the pafTion of grief, and the 
 
 K 2 feelings 
 
132 S E R M O N IX. 
 
 feelings of penitence which they exhibit, were af* 
 fumed, not real. Their true merit conlifts in the 
 correfpondence of the fentiments and exprefTions, 
 to that animated and varied tenour of foul, from 
 which they are fuppoftd to flow. Confidered in 
 this light, the pfalm before us abounds with beau- 
 ties that muO firike every fenfible reader. In the 
 14th and 16th verfes, David implores, in the 
 moft fervent manner, deliverance from the guilt 
 of that blood, which he had fo caufelefsly and 
 bafely fhed, the recolledion of which crime ren- 
 dered him unable to addrefs the God of purity 
 w^ith confidence and freedom till he had received 
 fome aifu ranee of his pardon. Deliver me from 
 hlood-giiiltinejs^ God, thou God of my falvation, 
 and rny tongue fhall fing aloud of thy righteoufnefs. 
 O Lord, open thou my lips, and my mouth fallfiew 
 forth thy praife. The reflexion upon his guilt na- 
 turally brings to his mind ihofe facrificcs which 
 were commonly thought to be of an expiatory na- 
 ture, but which, as we may learn from various 
 places of the plalms, David well knew to be of no 
 value on their own account, and to be only fo far 
 acceptable to God, as they were accompanied 
 with fuitable difpofitions in the offerer. For thou 
 defirefi ?ict facrifice, elfe would I give it ; thou de- 
 hghtef not in burnt offering *. But he knew well 
 that the fentim.ents of penitence, and the meltings 
 of heart occafioned by them, had -an intrinfic 
 worth, and a natural propriety. The facrifice 
 never failed to be acceptable, when attended with 
 
 ^ VER. 16, 
 
 fuch 
 
S E R M O N IX. 135 
 
 fuch a temper; and without any external facrifice, 
 this temper was always a pleafing and efficacious 
 offering, 77?^ facrifices of God are a broken Jpirit ; 
 a broken and a contrite hearty God, thou wilt ?iot 
 defpife. The metaphorical expreffion of a broke?! 
 Jpirit is readily underftood, and the repetition of 
 the fentiment, which in the latter part of the verfe 
 is thrown into the form ot an addrefs to God, 
 not only leaves a ftronger impreflion, but is ex- 
 tremely natural, as it marks that hope and com- 
 fort, which are intermingled with the grief of a 
 penitent, when he refleds upon the mercy and 
 placability of God. 
 
 It were needlefs to confume more time in ex* 
 plaining the propofition contained in the text, 
 which is of itfelf fo intelligible, namely, that a 
 penitent difpofition, or unfeigned forrow for paft 
 offences is acceptable to the Almighty. But I 
 think it may be both an agreeable and ufeful em- 
 ployment, to trace, if poffible, fome of thofe 
 caufes, on account of which repentance is reckon- 
 ed in fcripture fo important a virtue, and decla- 
 red to be fo pleafing to God. This enquiry, if it 
 is properly profecuted, will difcover to us the rea* 
 fonablenefs, and the neceffity of a penitent difpo- 
 fition, and furnifh an opportunity of obviating 
 thofe obje^ftions, which may be thrown out upon 
 this fubjed. 
 
 I WOULD only premife, that when we trace the 
 reafons on account of which repentance, or in the 
 language of the text, a broken and a contrite hearty 
 is fo acceptable to God, it is not ncceiTary to fup- 
 
 pofe 
 
134 S E R M O N IX. 
 
 pofe that man is fo conftituted, as to be capable 
 of difcerning the whole, or even the principal of 
 them. There may be relations and fitnefTes of the 
 moft important nature, and thofe immediately re-^ 
 garding hom.an characfters, to which moft men, 
 pernaps the wifeft, are entire ftrangers, And 
 though an ignorance of the ends that are promo- 
 ted, and of the manner in which they are promo- 
 ted by a certain temper and behaviour, no doubt 
 forms fome prefumption againfl the conne(flion 
 between the means and the end, yet this pre^ 
 fumption may be overcome in many diiTerent 
 ways, B t ftill it is to be remembered, that our 
 Maker is pleafed in moft cafes, not only to point 
 out our duty to us, but alfo to lay open the rea- 
 ft ns or grounds of its different branches ; and 
 when we plainly difcern any part of our condud, 
 or any difpofition of our mind, to be adapted to 
 the general conftitution of roan, or produdlive of 
 good effects, we are naturally led to con lude, 
 that this fitnefs and tendency, though, as far as 
 we fee them, they may not be the fole or princi- 
 pal caufes of the divine approbation, do yet in 
 fome meafure determine the Deity to beftow his 
 approbation. Let us therefore proceed to confider, 
 with all humility and attention, what thofe cir- 
 cumftances are, in a penitent difpofition, upon 
 which its amiablenefs and ufefulnefs depend, and 
 which render it acceptable to God. 
 
 In the firft place : I would obferve, that when 
 a perfon has violated the laws of heaven, and ad:- 
 cd contrary to the didates of his own confcience, 
 
 it 
 
S E R M O N IX. 155 
 
 it is a part of his conftitution, that the refledion 
 upon his guilt fhould fill him with remorfe. 
 
 It is a part of the duty of confcience, to con- 
 demn our evil a*^ions after they are committed, as 
 well as to warn us againft them before-hand, and 
 excite us to avoid them. In giving way therefore 
 to the natural feelings of the mind, when they 
 are prompted by reafon, and have the fandion of 
 confcience. there is, independent of the utility of 
 fuch a condud, fomething fo amiable in the eye 
 of man, that we cannot but fuppofe it at the 
 fame time acceptable in the fight of God. 
 
 In many inftances, the retraining and modera- 
 ting of the natural feelings of the mind, is one 
 confiderable part of our duty ; but the fupprefling 
 or counterading of them altogether, though this 
 has fometimes been the boafted aim of philofophy, 
 is plainly reverling the work of God, and diftind- 
 ly oppofing that intention which is difcovered to 
 us in the conftrudion of our inward frame. Were 
 there nothing more in contrition and forrow of 
 heart for paft fins, but merely giving fcope to 
 that felf-reproach, which confcience excites on 
 their account, we muft necelTarily approve the 
 exercife of it. In like manner, we cannot but 
 condemn the perfon who, though he has given 
 the jultefl: occafion for fuch fentiments of remorfe, 
 is altogether a ftranger to them. 
 
 If it be objeded, that what is pafl cannot be 
 recalled, that an adion already committed cannot 
 be altered, or cancelled by the tears that are now 
 
 fhed 
 
136 S E R M O N IX. 
 
 ilied for it: I anfwer, Becaufe 1 cannot recall 
 "vs'hat is pall, becaufe my future conduifl; cannot 
 cancel or obliterate my former fins, therefore dif- 
 quiet and compunction take hold of my mind ; 
 and by indulging this compuui^tion to a certain 
 degree, I am fenfible that I ad in conformity to 
 the belt principles of my nature, and I approve 
 of fuch conduit, as I do in many other cafes, 
 "without refTeding upon the advantage with which 
 it liiay be attended. When one hears the laft 
 groan of an only child, or lends a hand to clofe 
 his eyes, the tear naturally falls, and grief takes 
 pofieiHon of the foul. We approve of that tear, 
 ^nd fympathize with this grief; but will a river 
 of tears recal to its ancient receptacle the depart- 
 ed fpirit, or, as far as we know, procure the leafl 
 benefit to that obje(ft of our affedion for whom 
 they are filed ? Yet the man whofe eyes are dry 
 from confiderations of this kind, we condemn as 
 an unfufceptible and felfilh being, who refufes to 
 endure a pain which his nature prompts him to 
 fufier, becaufe it cannot contribute to the com- 
 pletion of his delires. 
 
 Thus the confideration that forrow for our 
 paft oftences is natural to the human mind, or, 
 in other words, conformable to that conltitution 
 which God has given us, affords us j. ft reafon to 
 conceive that they will meet with his approbation 
 and acceptance. 1 have faid that it affords us 
 juft reafon to conceive, becaufe I am fenfible, 
 that what has now been faid, would prove too 
 weak a foundation for fupporting the afiurance of 
 his acceptance, if we had nothing to aid us in our 
 
 refearch 
 
S E R M O N IX. 137 
 
 refearch but the light of nature. But every one 
 will obferve that to inveftigate the reafonablenefs 
 of a dodrine that is revealed, is quite a different 
 thing from eftabliihing the certainty of the fame 
 dodrine, if no revelation had been granted to 
 us. 
 
 I HAVE not in this difcourfe ufed any argu- 
 ments to prove that remorfe is natural to a guilty 
 mind : Every man is fenfible that it is. We are 
 furprized when we me^-t with any perfon, who is 
 not filled with horror by the confcioufnefs of an 
 atrocious crime which he has perpetrated. Male- 
 fa<51ors when they allow thernfclves to think, fel- 
 dom fail to experience this horror, which is the 
 firfi: fiep to true penitence. 
 
 But the fuitablenefs of a penitent difpofition 
 to the nature of man, is not the fole reafon for 
 fuppofing it acceptable to God. I proceed there- 
 fore to obferve in the fecond place, that this con- 
 trition feems to be abfolutely neceffary, in order 
 to produce a change of temper, and a reformation 
 of condud. 
 
 If this (hall appear to be the cafe, it will be 
 one of the many inftances which evince, that 
 what is conformable to our natures, promotes at 
 the fame time the moft important ends. Now if 
 a perfon commits a crime, for which he feels no 
 compundion, place him in the like circumftances, 
 and what reafon is there to think that he will ab- 
 ftain from repeating it .'' He was furely feduced 
 at firfl by the violence of fome paffion, the force 
 
 of 
 
I3S S E R M O N IX. 
 
 of fome appetite, or the defire of fome end that 
 perhaps had been allowable if it had been attain- 
 ed by lawful means. If the- fame paffion affails 
 him, if the fame appetite urges him, or the fame 
 delirable end is to be attained by the like unlaw- 
 ful means, for what reafon will he abftain from an 
 adion, the commiffion of which never gave him 
 an hour's uneafinefs ? Cain flew his brother Abel 
 jn the field ^ and from the hiftory it does not ap- 
 pear that at firft he was touched with remorfe. 
 Was any thing more wanting but another brother, 
 and the like envy and refentment, to induce him 
 to repeat the crime? It is true, that though fome 
 coniiderable time elapfed, between David's firft 
 guilty flep, and the meffage which God fent him 
 by Nathan, he had only feduced one Bathflieba, 
 and murdered one Uriah ; but if like beauties had 
 in the interval kindled like unlawful defires, and 
 if other Uriahs had obffruded their gratification, 
 what reafon is there to think, that the facrednefs 
 of wedlock, or the refped: for a brave and guilt- 
 lefs fervant, would have reftrained him ? Attend 
 to the matter as it is confidered in common life. 
 If a perfon commits an unjufi adion, for which 
 he feels no fhame or remorfe, fuppofe a theft ; 
 "will any perfon of common fenfe, who knows 
 this, trufl to his honefiy in the like fituation ? 
 
 But where the feelings of j)cnltence take pof- 
 fefTion of the mind, they naturally and unavoida- 
 bly alter the difpofition, and have a dired influ- 
 ence in reforming the condud. The flings of 
 confcience, the meltings of forrow, the prayers 
 for pardon, the folemn renunciations of fin and 
 
 the 
 
SERMON IX. 1^9 
 
 the refolutions of amendment, all which are in- 
 cluded in penitence, prove fo many powerful 
 arguments, to refift the violence of thofe paffions 
 %vhich have produced fo much pain. They will 
 probably abate the Itrength and impetuofity of 
 unlawful defires : they will certainly prove natural 
 curbs and reftraints to prevent us from indulging 
 thefe. They are evidently f^rong incentives to 
 prefer for the future the peaceful and fedate enjoy- 
 ments of virtue, and to abandon forever the tu- 
 multuous, but difquictins; pleafures of vice. 
 After David had fo often luatcred his couch with 
 his tears ^, after he had in fuch bitternefs of fpirit 
 compofed his penetential pfalms \ how ftrongly 
 muft his foul have been fortified againft the in- 
 dulgence of a criminal paffion ? How determined 
 muft he naturally have been againft incurring the 
 guilt of innocent blood, which had already occa- 
 fioned in his foul fuch exquifite torments ? Can it 
 be reckoned unfair to conclude, that the remorfe 
 which agitated the mind of Peter, when he ".vcpt 
 bitterly^' upon denying his Mafter, and the refo- 
 lutions with which his penitence for a condud fo 
 daflardly and mean infpired him, contributed 
 greatly to render him fo intrepid during the re- 
 mainder of his life, fo daring in the time of 
 danger, and fo unfhaken in the midft of the 
 moft unjuft and violent perfecutions ? in common 
 life w^e always fuppofe (which is a ftrong proof of 
 the natural tendency of repentance) that a perfon 
 who has been guilty of a bad adion, and fufFered 
 
 ^PSALMvi. 6. '^^ MATT.XXvi. 75. 
 
 the 
 
I40 S E R M O N IX. 
 
 the compundions of penitence, will avoid a re- 
 petition of that which caufed them ; and, in order 
 to have a reafonable fecurity for his good behavi- 
 our, and to difpofe us to trull him, the chief 
 difBculty lies in determining whether his peni- 
 tence was feigned, or real. You will readily fee, 
 that by penitence, we here mean not thofe vio- 
 lent failies of grief, which are to be difcovered in 
 fome of the moft fluctuating and variable cha- 
 raders, but that anguifli of heart, that humiliati- 
 on before God, thofe refolutions, and thofe 
 efforts, which repentance is commonly underftood 
 to imply. 
 
 With regard to the curbs, or reftraints which 
 real penitence for particular crimes naturally lays 
 upon the mind, it is further to be obferved that, 
 though they principally relate to thofe crimes, 
 w^hich occaiioned the penitence, they are not 
 confined to them. It is natural, almoft unavoid-^ 
 able, that they Ihould be extended to vice in 
 general, and particularly to ail vices that are of a 
 more atrocious nature. A man who has deeply 
 repented of an exprefiion injurious to his neigh-» 
 bour, will not only have ftrong motives to guard 
 againfl calumny in his converfation, but doubtlefs 
 will be equally cautious of giving a falfe teflimo- 
 ny againft his neighbour in a court of juftice. 
 The thought is fo obvious, it cannot fail to occur. 
 If an injurious expreffion dropt in common dif- 
 courfe fubjeded me to fuch remorfe, what will be 
 the confequence, what mud I feel, if in a public 
 trial I give a folemn teflimony that fhall be 
 equally falfe ? This obfervatlon might be illuf- 
 
 trated 
 
SERMON IX. 
 
 i4t 
 
 trated by a thoufand other inftances, but I think 
 it is fufficiently inteUigible from what I have 
 faid. 
 
 Thirdly, In order to fhew the importance o£ 
 a penitent difpofition, and the reafon of its being 
 fo acceptable to God, I would remark, that it 
 puts the foul in a proper frame for receiving the 
 imprellions of virtue in general. I only obferved 
 before, that it had a natural lendency to reftrain 
 us from vice, and to engage us to form refolutions 
 againft it. This leads a fiep farther. The mind 
 of man has been compared to a foil, which re- 
 quires preparation and culture before the feed can 
 be thrown into it with advantage. In the fame 
 manner there are certain difpofitions of mind which 
 are friendly to the leffons of virtue, and to the 
 precepts of religion. When the foul is foftened 
 with repentance, then is the hour to inculcate the 
 maxims of purity and holinefs, and to animate to 
 a virtuous conducft. I do not fay that it is the 
 only feafon ; but furely it will be allowed that it 
 affords one proper opportunity for this purpofe. 
 If you had a pupil whom you were anxious to 
 train up to virtue, when could you hope more 
 effedually to infpire him with the love of mercy, 
 gentlenefs, and equity, than when he repented oi 
 fome rafh, injurious, or fevere adion ? If we were 
 to inculcate a prudent and difcreet behaviour upon 
 any neighbour or friend, to whom we wifhed 
 well, when could we choofe a fairer occafion, 
 than when he felt and lamented the ill confe- 
 queues of a foolifh ftep ? In a word, when would 
 we judge a perfon to have a proper degree of 
 
 tradablenefs 
 
142 SERMON IX. 
 
 tradablenefs and fenfibility, an aptnefs to imbibe 
 inilriidion, and a difpofition to retain it, if not 
 when his heart is foftened, his confcience alarmed, 
 his abhorrence of guilt iirong, and his purpofes 
 and aims aheady pointed to piety and virtue ? 
 
 It v/as probable this natural tendency of a 
 contrite fpirit which induced our Saviour to make 
 it an indifpenfible requifite in thofe who come to 
 him. He called not the righteous, that is, thofe 
 who had a hii^h opinion of their own merit, but 
 linners, or thofe who were deeply penetrated with 
 a fenfe of their own guilt. To the fame purpofe 
 he declares that he is the phyfician not to the 
 whole, but to the fick. Publicans and finners 
 reforted to him, and if they had obeyed the 
 inftrudion of his forerunner, who admonifhed 
 them to repent, they never were rejeded. Many 
 of the parables which our Saviour delivered, re- 
 prefent the fame truth in the flrongeft manner. 
 Penitence may therefore be confidered as the 
 ground-work of virtue, or the culture that pre- 
 pares the foul for its reception. 
 
 In the fourth place, I obferve, that as it has 
 this tendency in general, fo it is particularly 
 calculated for the improvement and exercife of 
 fome of the moft capital virtues of the chriftian 
 life. If we confiderany one virtuous difpofition, 
 as prevailing in the mind, it has probably a remote 
 tendency to form a comiplete charader of virtue 
 and holinefs, and lays a foundation for thofe vir- 
 tues that leafl: refemble itfelf It has fome kind of 
 attradive quality with refped to every thing that 
 
 bears 
 
SERMON IX. 143 
 
 bears the fame general charader : but the attrac- 
 tive quahty becomes much more vigorous and 
 difcernible, with refped to thofe virtues, that are 
 of the mofi: fimilar and congenial nature. In 
 that cafe the mind paffes with the greateft facility 
 and readinefs from the former to the latter, and 
 the force of the prevailing principle naturally 
 fpreads, and communicates itfelf. The applicati- 
 on of this dodrine to the fubjedl in hand will 
 illuftrate what has been faid. 
 
 A PENITENT difpofition has, as wehavefeen, 
 a natural influence in preparing the mind for the 
 entertainment and pra^^ice of virtue in general, 
 but it has a more powerful and immediate influ- 
 ence, in cultivating fome particular virtues of great 
 importance. For infl:ance, when a perfon repents 
 of any ad of injuflice or fraud, he will be led to 
 form dired refolutions of living honeftly and up- 
 rightly. His penitence therefore will give a di- 
 red impulfe to the mind to pradice juftice. This 
 again may lead his attention to the other virtues, 
 and give his mind an impulfe to temperance and 
 forgivenefs, though the tendency in this cafe be 
 only remote. But it is to be obferved, that the 
 penitent difpofition we defcribe, from whatever 
 occafion it has taken its rife, naturally inclines the 
 heart to piety, meeknelj, moderation and charity. 
 It will be acknowledged that thefe are virtues of 
 the firft clafs ; and if it be abfolutely neceflary, as 
 we are fure it is, that our minds be tindured with 
 thefe, in order to our acceptance with God, what- 
 ever contributes fo largely to their improvement, 
 muft certainly be of the higheft importance. The 
 
 attentive 
 
144 S E R M O N IX, 
 
 attentive hearer will perceive, that 1 do not con-* 
 ficler penitence, as the only inftrument of our im-^ 
 proveroent in virtue, but as one among others^ 
 which by the appointment of providence, and the 
 conftitution of our nature, is rendered fubfervient 
 to this end. And that this is the cafe, I imagine, 
 can fcarcely be difputed. 
 
 Rei*entance leads us to confider the fupreme 
 Being as highly difpleafed with iin, yet inclina- 
 ble to mercy* And certainly no confiderations 
 can operate more powerfully to draw forth our 
 reverence and our love, two of the principal 
 parts of piety. Every one knows, that the foft- 
 nefs and the forrow of heart wiiich repentance 
 excites are nearly allied to humanity. As a proof 
 of this, I need only remark, that the breathings 
 of a contrite fpirit are commonly intermixed with 
 humane and generous fentiments. If a penitent 
 were uttering a peevifh, a difcontented, a def- 
 pairing exprelTion, though it would be juflly con- 
 demned as indecent and wrong, we Ihould not 
 yet queftion the fmcerity of his repentance. But 
 if we difcovered a fentiment of cruelty, or inlm- 
 manity, we fliould not hefitate a moment in pro- 
 nouncing it hypocritical. With refped td m.cek- 
 nefs, moderation, and charity, I fhall only add, 
 that nothing can tend more ftrongly to improve 
 them, than the recolledion of our own frailties 
 and feelings, for which we ourfelves Hand in 
 need of fo many allowances. If any of us propo- 
 fed to perfuadc another to be candid and charita- 
 ble, what more dired courfe could we take, than 
 to remind him in thofe inftanccs, wherein he had 
 
 reafon 
 
S E R M O N IX. 145 
 
 reafon to wifli for the candour and charity of 
 others? But penitence brings to remembrance 
 things of this kind, with more force and energy 
 tlian can be effeded by the moft accomphfhed 
 orator. It is the very difpoiition which arifes from 
 the deepeft impreffion of them. 
 
 Thus we have feen, that penitence, or a broken 
 and a contrite fieart^ is adapted to the nature and 
 conftitution which God has given iis \ that it is 
 the proper and powerful corretlive of thofe vices 
 whicli occafioned it : that it prepares the heart for 
 the reception and culture of virtue in general ; 
 and that it has an immediate influence in exciting 
 and increafing our piety, humanity, meeknefs, 
 moderation and charity. But fureiy what is fo 
 fuitable to the beil and nobleft principles of the 
 mind, and produdlive of fuch eminent and pe- 
 culiar advantages for the improvement of the 
 character, muft be highly ple'aflng to God. , The 
 Jacrijices of God are a broken fpirit \ a broken and a 
 contiite hearty God, thou ivilt not defpife. 
 
 L, S E R. 
 
SERMON X. 
 
 Matthew vii. 24 — 28. 
 
 Therefore^ whofoever heareth thefe fayings of mtne^ 
 aiid doih them^ I 'will liken him unto a wife man 
 which built his houfe upo?i a rock : A?id the rain 
 defcended^ and thejloods came^ and the winds hlew^ 
 and heat upon that houfe ^ and it fell not \ for it 
 was fou7ided upon a rock. And every one that 
 heareth tne/e fqyings of mine, a?id doth them not, 
 Jhall be likened imto afooli/li man which built his 
 houfe upon the f and: And the rain defended, and 
 thejloods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon 
 that houfe, and it fell ; and great was the fall 
 of it, 
 
 X H E frequent declarations of the gofpel and 
 the experience of human life fufficiently convince 
 us of a fa(fl, whicli upon a bare confideration of 
 the matter, we fhould fcarcely fuppofe could take 
 place, That the knowledge and pradice of religion 
 are not only often disjoined, but that men are ve- 
 ry apt to confider the former as moft cifential, and 
 fo efficacious as to infure the favour of God, 
 though the latter Ihould be totally, or in a great 
 L 2 raeafure 
 
148 S E R M O N X. 
 
 meafure dlfregarded. When I attend to the feel- 
 ings of my own heart, I am aftonifhed that this 
 depravity fhould be found in the hft of human 
 errors. When I read the gofpel, I am ftill more 
 aftonifhed that it fhould prevail among chriftians, 
 and that perhaps in as great a degree as it does 
 among Pagans or Mahometans. The voice of na- 
 ture commands us in the firfl place to 2.S. the part 
 which becomes a man. The dicflates of religion 
 conftantly teach us, that if we kriow our duty^ hap-* 
 py are we if we do it. The verfes which I have 
 now read to vou plainly inculcate this truth. It 
 is the conclufion drawn from the general tenor of 
 our Saviour's fermon on the mount, and in a par- 
 ticular manner from the pafTages which immedi- 
 ately precede. At the i 5th verfe he cautions his 
 difciples to beware of falfe and deceitful appear- 
 ances, and by an illuftration taken from the trees 
 and herbs of the field, he teacl»^s this important 
 dodrine, That human condud and behaviour are 
 the great chara(fieriftics of fentiments and difpofi- 
 tions. Wherefore^ fays he in the 20th verfe, by 
 their fruits ye fludl know tkem. Then in a new 
 paragrnph, from the 2rft to the 24th verfe, he 
 continues the fame fubjevTt in that fimple yet 
 energetic manner which we naturally expe6t muft 
 iiave operated flrongly, as we learn from the con- 
 cluding verfes of this chapter that it adually did, 
 on the opinions and affedions of his hearers. 
 Not every one that faith unto me^ Lord^ Lord^ fiall 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven^ hut he that doth the 
 will of my Father which is in heaven. In the efli- 
 mation of our Saviour, the power of foretelling 
 future events, the power of ejeding demons, the 
 
 power 
 
S E R M O N X. 149 
 
 power of working miracles, which it feems were 
 conferred fometimes in thofe days like llrength, 
 beauty, or external advantages, and poffeffed by 
 men who abufed them, were inferior to that pie- 
 ty and virtue which, though much negleif^ed, arc 
 without doubt the nobleftaccomplifhmentsof man. 
 Our Saviour then fums up his reafoning upon 
 this fubjed in the vcrfes I have now read to you. 
 }n thefc the indiflbluble connexion v/hich ought 
 to fublift betwixt the knowledge and the pradice 
 of religion is plainly declared, and the wifdom of 
 our maintaining this connexion reprefented by a 
 iimilitude taken from the prudence or impru- 
 dence of different characters in common life. An 
 attention to the events which occur, and to thofe I 
 truths which may be learned from experience, I 
 conflitutes the difference betwixt a wife man and 1 
 a fool ; and nothing leaves fo flrong an imprelTion I 
 upon our minds of this difference, as a reprefen- i 
 tation of both engaged in the fame plans and ope- 
 rations, and of the various fuccefs which accom-' 
 panics them, arifing from the obfervance or ne- 
 gled of fome material circumflances, Whofoever 
 therefore heareth theje I dyings ofmirie^ Sec ■ 
 
 In difcourfing therefore from my text, it fhall 
 be my bufuiefs at this time to lay before you fome 
 arguments which may fhew both the wifdom and 
 neceffity of joining the pradice of religion to the 
 knowledge of it. 
 
 By living in a country where the gofpel is pub- 
 IKhed, by having the fcriptures in our hands, by 
 the frequent opportunities we enjoy of hearing 
 
 tl\e 
 
I50 S E R M O >} X. 
 
 the truths of rehgion explained to us, by the ge- 
 neral icii{G that there is of ir.oral obligation, and hj 
 the force of chriitianhy in preferving and improv- 
 ing this fenfe, I think it may be afferted, that the 
 knowledge of religion ftill prevails in a confidera- 
 ble degiee among us. It is indeed difficult to 
 conceive that accounts fo {imJDle and fo interefling, 
 truths fo pleafing and fo alarming, and revela- 
 tions fo well adapted to the various capacities of 
 human nature as thofe contained in the gofpel, 
 ffiould be read or heard with attention by thofe 
 w^ho believe the veracity of the author or rclater, 
 without leaving the principles of inibudicn and 
 knowledge. Much have the learned^men of this 
 world to anfwer for, who, by glofTcs, interpreta- 
 tions, commentaries, and fyftems, have rendered 
 obfcure and intricate what the voice of heaven 
 hath pronounced fo plainly. But though the 
 knowledge of religion is, or at leafl might be in 
 our circumftances very general, I appeal to our 
 lives, the teft eflablifhed by Chriff himft If, if this 
 knowledge be net much disjoined from pradice. 
 We hear the fayings of Chriif ; but are we careful to 
 do them ? Let the intemperance of the young, the 
 avarice of the aged, the oppreffion of the power- 
 ful, and the dilhonefty of the indigent, ferve for 
 a reply to thefe queftions. I am willing to judge 
 as favourably of the world as pofTble ; 1 wifh ra- 
 ther to extenuate than to exagsjerate the vices of 
 my fellow-Qreatures : and while I fee every man 
 profeffing chriftianity, and fo few even feeming 
 to be anxious to live up to its rules, I am difpo- 
 fed to impute many of their fins to an error in 
 judgment, that the profeiiion and knowledge of 
 
 chriflianity 
 
SERMON X. 151 
 
 chriftianlty are important advantages in their 
 favour, and that they will cover a multitude of 
 tranfgreflions. JVe are Abraham's feed^ faid the 
 Jews upon every occalion, when they wanted to 
 affcrt their relation to God, or diftindion among 
 men; and I cannot help thinking we too often 
 refemble them. We are the difciples of Chrift, 
 the profeflbrs of the pure, reformed religion, ab~ 
 horrers of the abominations of popery, of the 
 errors of heretics, and fo forth. Such pleas, be- 
 ing ufed by themfelves, and unconneded with 
 their natural confequences, give reafon to believe 
 that w^e place more weight in them than we are 
 warranted to do, either- from the gofpel, or from 
 common fenfe. I confider our confidence in 
 them as a great foundatioi of our iniquities, and 
 if I could but as certainly deftroy the fuperflruc- 
 ture as I can fhew the weaknefs of the foundation, 
 I fliould certainly deferve well of mankind, and 
 enjoy the fweeteft of all rewards, the confciouA 
 nefs of having done a worthy adion. With this 
 view I proceed to (hew the infeparable connec- 
 tion which fhould fubfift between the knowledge 
 and the pradice of religion, or, in the words I 
 iifed upon firft propofing this head of difcourfe, 
 to fhew the neceffity of joining the pradice of 
 religion to the knowledge of it. 
 
 In the firft place ; The neceffity of this unioa 
 will appear from the confideration that man is a 
 being naturally formed and principally defigned 
 for adion. Religion then, which is certainly in-- 
 tended for the fupport, confolation, and diredion 
 of man here, and for his preparation for another 
 
 ftate, 
 
152 S E R M O N X. 
 
 Hate, wherein, in all probability, he is deftined 
 to be an adive being, miift be connedled with 
 the a<^^(ive powers of his nature, and defigned for 
 their culture. That man is a being defigned for 
 aclion, is plain from various indications of his 
 nature. The manner in which our daily food is 
 procured to us, the neceffity of labour and exer- 
 cife for the prefervation of health, the helpleffnefs 
 of children, which requires the a(flive exertions of 
 the full grown, and that fecond childhood to 
 which the decrepitude of age brings us, and 
 which renders us dependent upon the care, and 
 attention, and ad^ive endeavours of thofc, to 
 whom we had been formerly obliged to lend a 
 like attention in different circumftances ; thcfe all 
 fliew us that man is n.ade for adion, and that 
 necelfity forces it upon him. This is fo true, that 
 if perfed and entire indolence were to take place, 
 death would foou overtake the vigorous and the 
 robuil; and the infant, whofe cries feldom fail to 
 excite our attention and our endeavours to help it, 
 and the aged^ whofe grey hairs and exhaufted 
 vigour now command our refped and afiiiiance, 
 w^ould feel the effeds of an inhumanity, founded 
 in the love of repofe, more fatal than any that 
 ever aduated the bread: of the cruel and revenge- 
 ful. Our flate and condition then proves that we 
 were intended for adion and exertion. The ge- 
 neral propenfitics and conducl of hrman creatures 
 prove the fame. A child no fooner begins to 
 difiinguifa objeds, than it fliews fome defire of 
 moving towards them, or difcovers a wiOi of 
 ha\iag them brought within his reach. Ten 
 thcufand attempts he makes before he can ufehis 
 
 limbs i 
 
SERMON X. 153 
 
 limbs ; but no fooner does he obtain the ufc of 
 them than he is conftantly exerting them. Except 
 the feafon taken up in deep, children are conti- 
 nually exerting thcmfelves; and all that playful- 
 nefs and uft lefs labour, as we fometimcs thmk it, 
 but which was once fo delightful to every one of 
 us, are neceifary to the increafe of their growth, 
 the ftrength of their bodies, the expan(ion of 
 every corporeal and mental power. Before the 
 age of reafbn and retleClion, an inadlive human 
 creature is in that unfortunate condition which 
 wc mufi: lament and pity, the condition of 
 idiotifm. Can any thing prove more ftrongly that 
 a<^tion is natural to man ? 
 
 When man grows up, the keennefs, the 
 warmth, the variety of his paflions and affedions 
 keep him almoft conftantly employed; and if by 
 the proper diredion of thefe, he does not acquire 
 habits of adivity which remain with him at a lefs 
 turbulent period of hfe ; he feels the refentment 
 of nature againft his mifcondud ; and his liftlefs 
 days, and the difcontent which never fails to be 
 confequent upon them, fufFiciently inform him 
 how grievoufly he has erred. To judge of this 
 matter, let us only appeal to what we have ex- 
 perienced. When employed in any innocent and 
 ufeful occupation, or in the bringing to maturity 
 any virtuous and praife-worthy plan, how fhort 
 does tlic day feem, and how fvviftly do the hours 
 pafs away ! When the body is not employed, 
 nor the mind exerted, when a man is half afleep, 
 and reduced to that often defired fiate of having 
 nothina; to do, how compleatly miferable is he ! 
 
 The 
 
154 SERMON X. 
 
 The prefent hour is tlrefome, the refledion upon 
 it is painful. Thus our earlieft propenfities, and 
 confcioufnefs of what we feel, and experience 
 afterwards, coincide with the neceliities of our 
 itate and the circumftaaces of our condition, to 
 ihow us that man was made for adion. Is it to 
 be beheved then that rehgion lliould be addreffed 
 only to what is fecondary in our nature and 
 ftate, and not to what is primary and moi^ im- 
 portant ? 
 
 In the 2,d place ; The neceffity of joining the 
 pradice of religion to the knowledge of it, ap-. 
 pears from the general analogy of nature with 
 refped to all our purfuits, employments, and 
 occupations. Arguments drawn from the general 
 tenor of ordinary life, and applied to things that 
 are of a m.ore fpiritual and exalted nature, cer- 
 tainly oupjit to have weight with us. They will 
 have weight with all who are of a fober and at- 
 tentive turn of mind, nor, as far as I can recol- 
 lect, do I know of one general conclufion taken 
 from the ordinary condud of life, which when 
 applied to us as religious and immortal creatures, 
 would tend to millead us. Let us then confider 
 how the cafe flands as to our temporal purfuits 
 and employment ; and here we ihall find, that if 
 knowledge is confidered as fuflicient of itfelf, and 
 not as the foundation for condud and pradice, it 
 becomes even ridiculous, and renders the perfon 
 indued with it, more contemptible than if he had 
 been immerfed in ignorance. Suppofe that any 
 of you called a phylician to vifit a parent, a child, 
 or a domeftick, and that he fliould talk to you 
 
 ever^r 
 
S E R M O N X. 155 
 
 every time of the nature and kind of diftempep 
 with which his patient was afflided, but applied 
 nothing for his relief: What judgment would yc 
 form of him, if the perfon diitreired fiiouid diL^ ? 
 You would no doubt think you had reafon to 
 reproach the phyfician. And if in anfwer to your 
 refentment againll: his indolence and negled, he 
 fhould begin a learned differtation, and prove to 
 you that he underilood the cafe thoroughly ; 
 would you not conlider him as affronting your 
 underftanding, and difgracing his own profefiion ? 
 If you had loit your caufe at law by Liie negligence 
 of your advocate, who, to apologize for hiiufelf, 
 fhould talk to you about the nature oflimilar 
 rights, of evidence and probation ; would you 
 not believe the man to be a compound of knavery 
 and impudence, without the leafl: fpark of virtue, 
 or the leall fitnefs for his employment? 
 
 A MAN that could believe himfcif to be a 
 hufbandman, becaufe he could defcribe all the 
 utenfils in hufbandry, and difcourfe learnedly on 
 the nature of foils and manures, and every time 
 his crop mifgave him, fhould think he fufEciently 
 vindicated his own management by giving an 
 ingenious defcription of a plough or a harrow, we 
 fhould all be tempted to efteem a fool, notwith- 
 l^anding the wifdom of his words. 
 
 If a merchant fhould difcourfe of all the arti- 
 cles of commerce, defcribe the countries whence 
 they come, the eafieft and beft method of import- 
 ing them, and yet never have any thing in this 
 fhop, but goods that were extravagant in their 
 
 price, 
 
1S6 S E R M O N X. 
 
 pricCj and bad in their quality, he might impofc 
 upon a filly man in a coffee-hoiife, but no difcreet 
 •Dailer or miih'efs of a family would ever choofe 
 to deal with him. 
 
 Ira woman who had children to educate, and 
 a fanriily to manage, fhould difcourfe about all the 
 beft plans of education that were ever formed, 
 and the moil efFedual ways of treating fervants, 
 and yet exhibit in her own houfe a fcene of 
 ridbrder and bad management, (he would never 
 obtain the praife of a worthy woman. If a young 
 woman in a fuperior (Nation of life, fhould, upon 
 any particular occafion, fpeak very properly about 
 the propriety and decorum of drcfs, about the 
 charms of elegance and foftnefs, and the attra«5ii- 
 on of modefl: difiidence, and yet fhow herfelf 
 Jihvays tawdry, and aff'jming, and loquacious, 
 her very words would render the contraft of her 
 manners the more obfervable and more odious. 
 
 If again, a fervant fhould be able to fpeak of 
 "'>11 the duties of his ilation ; of the attention, 
 a^f^ivity, and obfervance that are requifite, and 
 yet a6t diredly contrary to them ; the people in 
 riis ov/n rank would not value him, and no man 
 in a fuperior llation would choofe to employ him. 
 I might illuflrate this fubje(fl by examples brought 
 from every flate and condition of human life. 
 And if we difregard the general conclufion which 
 all thefe examples force upon us, we difcover a 
 (legree of folly, of which we in vain expeifl that 
 ::he Almighty, in his courfe of adminiftration, 
 will not make us feel the bitter confequences. Is 
 
 there 
 
SERMON X. 157 
 
 there any reafon to think that man, as a religious 
 creature, is not under the fame method of govern- 
 ment which takes place with refped to him as a 
 living, intelligent agent in this world ? Is there 
 not all the reafon in the world to believe the 
 contrary? How many analogies from ordinary life 
 does our Saviour make ufe of to inftrud men in 
 the truths of his kingdom ? But how could they 
 be brought with any propriety, if thefe two, our 
 bufinefs in common life, and our bufinefs as 
 religious creatures, differed in the moi\ elTentiai 
 and capital circumflanccs ? Thus he teaches us, 
 by allulions to the dignity and duties of kings, 
 the occupation of hufbandmen, of ihepherds, of 
 labourers, of m afters and fervants, of parents and 
 children, of builders, of a company of virgins 
 preparing for a marriage, of dependants receiving 
 the commands of their fupcriors, and aCling in 
 confequence of them. His inftru6tioas upon tbefs 
 points frequently Ix^gin with thefe or fuch like 
 exprelTions. T/ie kingrfom of heaven is like unto a 
 ceridin king. The kingdom of heaven is like unto 
 a certain houlholder. The khigdom of hcaveii jhall h.? 
 likened unto the virgins. If adion and conduct 
 were moft effential in the one, but fpeculation, 
 knowledge and belief only neceifary in the other ; 
 we can hardly fuppofe tliat our Saviour would 
 have run the comparifon, and argued from our 
 duty in the one cafe to what it is in the other. 
 
 In the third place; the neceifity of joining tlic 
 pradice of religion to the knowledge of it, ap- 
 pears, from conlidering the real and principal 
 objedofour approbation in judging of human 
 charaders. It is difpofitions, manners and con- 
 dud 
 
158 S £ R M O N X. 
 
 dud that we chiefly attend to In judging of men ; 
 and they are certainly the mofi: natural objeds of 
 attention. This is fo true, that even when peo- 
 ple have adopted fome ftrange and unaccountable 
 fcheme of religion, yet the natural feelings of 
 their heart often predominate in their manner of 
 judging of others, and they forget thofe ill- 
 founded rules which they had eftablifhed for 
 themfelves. 
 
 The wildefl: enthufiafts, the impious decriers 
 of good works as derogatory to the honour of 
 God, if any-how conneded with falvation ; in 
 how many inftances do they agree in their judg- 
 ments with thofe whom they confign to damnati- 
 on for their herelies ? Ufe all the means poiTible 
 to expel nature and common fenfe, yet they will 
 often recur ; and neither the worfl habit, nor the 
 moft abfurd opinions will be able conftantly to 
 warp and influence our judgments. Let us at- 
 tend to experience, that guide of human life, and 
 muft we not all feel that it is the adive condud, 
 the tenor of the life, the difplay of the humane, 
 the amiable and the refpedable virtues of our 
 nature, that fix and afcertain the charader, and 
 draw forth a permanent and fteady approbation ? 
 To judge candidly and impartially, we muft ab- 
 ilrad from a number of circumflances, and attend 
 to a variety of others. If we would become ac- 
 quainted w*th the figure and prcclfc colour of 
 many external objeds, we mufl view them in 
 difi^erent pofitlons, for fear of a deception from 
 an unfavourable fituation, or a falfe light. It is 
 ncceflTary to ufe the fame precautions with refped 
 
 to 
 
S E R M O N X. J59 
 
 to charaders. If we hear any man difcover much 
 knowledge and exaked fentlments, we approve 
 of him : but our approbation does not depend 
 upon his knowledge and fentiments merely, but 
 upon thefe as difcovering fymptoms and indicati- 
 ons of a fimilar characfler. For if we hear a man 
 talk in this manner, and yet know that he is a 
 tyrant to his wife, or cruel to his fervants ^ will 
 his difcourfe make the lead imprefTion in his fa- 
 vour, or will it not rather add to our dillike and 
 abhorrence ? Let the zeal of Peter and the elo- 
 quence of Paul flow from the mouth of a preacher: 
 but if intemperance, or lafcivioufnefs, or cruelty, 
 or revenge flain his charav^er, he will be an ob- 
 jed of refped and approbation to thofe only who 
 are ignorant, or uncertain of his vices. For e7i- 
 quire ^ I pray you ^ of the former ages^ and prepare 
 yourf elves to J e arch of your fathers. They fhall 
 teach and tell you., and utter the words of truth. In 
 what age or nation was not virtue principally 
 approved ? if it is wanting, is not the femblance 
 of it abfolutely requifite to procure reputation 
 from the prefent age, and fame from fucceeding 
 ones ? Is it not by means of virtue, and of an 
 adiVe faith the foundation of virtue, that thofe 
 who are celebrated in fcripture, ' and no'vo dead, yet 
 fpeak to us ? This is truly the cafe from the days 
 of Abel, and will continue to be the cafe while 
 human nature remains the fame. 
 
 But remove the charm which virtue beftows, 
 and all our praife becomes languid, and all our 
 feelings become dead. I hear with reverence the 
 divine difcourfes of Jefus : They penetrate my 
 
 inmofl 
 
i6o S E R M O N X. 
 
 iumoft foul. But the beneficence of his temper, 
 the mildnefs of his denneanour, the condefcenfion, 
 the mercy, the magnanimity, the heroifra which 
 he difcovers, flill affed me more. Jt is his con- 
 vcrfation with, and attention to his difciples, his 
 a(ftive exertion of his benevolent inchnations and 
 affe<51ions, his readinefs to pour wine and oil into 
 the wounds of the diftrefled, his acceptance of, 
 and kindnefs to (inners, his condud in Pilate's 
 hall, his behaviour at Calvary and on the crofs, 
 his refignation under afflidions that were quite 
 overwhelming, his treatment of his enemies, his 
 conftant fuperiority to the world, and his refped: 
 for all the divine appointments ; it is thefe that 
 fix the diadem upon the head of Jefus, and oblige 
 every man who feels the force of all-conquering 
 virtue to bow down before him and to cry, Ho- 
 fa72na to the foil of David ! hlejjed be he that comet k 
 in the name of the Highefi ! 
 
 In the fourth place; I would prove the necefll- 
 ty of joining the pradice of relie;ion to the know- 
 ledge of it, from the general ftrain and exprefs 
 declarations of the fcripture. When a perfon pe- 
 rufes any book, befides the particular fads it con- 
 tains, and the dodrines it inculcates, there are 
 fome general and leading principles which run 
 through the whole of it, and of which it leaves a 
 ftrong imprellion upon the mind of the reader. 
 The two points which the reading of the fcrip- 
 tures appears to me to fix moft ftrongly upon the 
 human mind, are, a fenfe of the divine perfedion 
 and adminiflration, and a convidion of thenecef- 
 fity, beauty and dignity of piety and virtue, or 
 
 "moral 
 
S E R M O N X. i6i 
 
 inoral condncfl in general. Thefe two fubjetfls are 
 often blended together, and are equally pointed 
 out to us in the accounts of the primaeval ftate, 
 the' fall and the recovery of man. This matter 
 mufi: be referred to every man's own feelings and 
 difcernment. The view however I believe to be 
 natural, becaufe it has often flruck me, and aii 
 attention to it has alv^-ays co.nfir;red rtiy firft fcn- 
 tirnents. Let every one judge for himfelf. But 
 upon the fuppofition of the juftice of the remark 
 now made, it is plain that this general imprelTioii 
 which the reading of the fcripture conveys, will 
 prove beyond all contradidion their moral tenden- 
 cy. To one w4io feels this ftron2;ly, the produ- 
 cing particular inftances and paiTages may feem a 
 vain labour. But general impreiTions do not 
 equally ftrike all ; and there is a great clafs of 
 mankind whofe obfervations are moflly confined 
 to particular and detached pafiages. Let us then 
 attend to fome of the exprefs declarations of fcrip- 
 ture upon this fubj eel : and inftead of multioly- 
 ing quotations, I fhall take notice only of a few 
 that are moft appolite and ftriking. In the fourth 
 chapter of Genelis, the hiftory of Cain and Abel 
 is related to us in a very fimple and affedling 
 manner, and the Almighty is introduced as decla- 
 ring this eternal truth to mankind, that his fa- 
 vour could only be enfured by a life of virtue and 
 integrity. And the Lord Jai'd tmto Cam^ JV,hy art 
 thou ivroth^ and why is thy countenance fallen ^ If 
 thou dojl well ^Jliah thou not be accepted'^ But if 
 thou doft not ivell^ Jin lieth at the door. Upon the 
 occafion of Balak king of Moab fending for Ba- 
 laam to enquire folicitoufly how the God of Ifrael 
 
 M might 
 
i6z S E R M O N X. 
 
 might be rendered propitious to his ambitious and 
 unjuit views, Balaam gave this memorable an- 
 fwer, recorded to us by the prophet Micah : He 
 hath JJicwed thee, man., what is good : and what 
 doth the 'Lord require of thee, hit to dojufily, a?id 
 to love mercy, a?id to walk humbly with thy God^ 
 There is an appofite piece of hiftory to our pre- 
 fent purpcfe recorded of Samuel and Saul, in the 
 fifteenth chapter of the firft book of Samuel. 
 Saul, inflead of obeying the exprefs appointments 
 of heaven, partly perhaps from avarice, and part- 
 ly from the viev^ of gaining the hearts of the fol- 
 diery, had only deftroyed among the Amalekites 
 all that was vile, but had faved the beft of the 
 oxen, and the fatlings, and the lambs, and all 
 that w^as good. Upon being queftioned about his 
 procedure by Samuel, he endeavoured to fcreen 
 the difobedience of his conducft under a religious 
 pretext, as if all ihefe things had been preferved 
 with a view to offer facrifice unto the Lord. 
 The prophet's rebuke is contained in ver. 22. and 
 places in a ftrong light the propriety and neceffity 
 of adive virtue above every other confideration. 
 And Samuel Jaid, Haih the Lord as great delight 
 in burnt offerings and Jacrifices, as in obeying the 
 loice of the Lord f Behold, to obey is better than 
 facrijice, and to hearken than the fat of rams. The 
 admonitions, rebukes and exhortations of the 
 prophets in general breathe entirely the fame fpi* 
 rit with the reply of Samuel. It is fcarcely pofli- 
 ble to read a chapter of the new teftament with- 
 out perceiving that it inculcates the neceffity of 
 joining together the knowledge and the pradice 
 of religion. Nothing can be more to our prefent 
 
 purpofe 
 
S E R' M O N X. 163 
 
 purpofe than the words of our text and fome of 
 the preceding and fubfcquent verfes. It is evi- 
 dent that the intention of fome of the parables is 
 to teach us this truth. Our Saviour himfelf only 
 explains a few of them ; and in fome of thofe ex- 
 plications this dodrine is exprefly maintained. 
 Thus, Matt. 13th chapter and 23d verfe, Bt/t i-e 
 that received the feed two the good ground is he that 
 heareth the word^ and under ft andeth it \ which alfo 
 beareth fruity and hringeth forth fome an hundred 
 fold^ fome Jixty^ and fome thirty. We are inform- 
 ed in the eleventh chapter of Luke's gofpel, the 
 twenty-feventh verfe, that a certain woman, 
 ftruck with the divinity of our Saviour's difcourfcj 
 cried out, Bleffed is the womb that bare thee^ and t hi 
 paps which thou haft fucked. Gur Saviour laid hold 
 of this opportunity to include the principles now 
 iindcr coniideration. But he /aid. Tea rather 
 bleffed are they which hear the word of God and keep it. 
 It was upon the o-^cafion of exhibiting an extra- 
 ordinary inftance of condefceniion, and preffing 
 an imitation of his own virtue upon his followers, 
 that he ends his exhortation with thefe words, in 
 the 17th verfe of the 1 3th chapter of John's gof- 
 pel ; Jfy^ hiow thefe thifigs^ happy are ye if ye do 
 them. The evil propenfities of human nature are 
 always ready to difcover themfelves 5 and as our 
 Saviour himfelf fpeaks in the higheft terms of 
 faith, or a (incere belief in religious truths, and 
 ieveral of the apoftles have done the fame ; fome 
 enthufiafls arofe who endeavoured to feparate the 
 knowledge and the pradice of religion, and confi- 
 dered the former as alone ncceiTary. This pelb'- 
 lent herefy gave occafion probably io the writing 
 
 M a of 
 
i64 S E R M O N X. 
 
 of the eplftle of James ; in which he particularly 
 iniifts on the infufficiency of faith without works. 
 
 Fahh^ fays he, in the 17th verfeof the fecond 
 chapter, without works is dead. In the following 
 part of the chapter he Ihews the neceflity of uni- 
 ting thcfe two principles, and the natural and eafy 
 manner in w^hich they coalefce and fupport each 
 other. But wilt thou kncrw^ vain ma?i., that faith 
 mtJwut works is dead^ ^as not our father Abra- 
 ham fufiified by works ^ when he offered up his fon 
 Ij'aac upon the altar ? Seeft thou how Jatth wrought 
 with Jus works., and by works was faith made perfe6i 9 
 And then he concludes in the 26th verfe ; For as 
 the body is dead without the fpirit., fo faith without 
 works is dead alfo. Several things that are of the 
 utmoft importance to chriftians may be deduced 
 from this difcourfe* 
 
 In the firft place ; it has a natural tendency to 
 give us a pradical convidion of the connexion 
 between knowledge and pradice. This connexion 
 there are few of us, I believe, that would be dif- 
 pofed diredly to deny. But the fadts and ana- 
 logics from common life, and the declarations of 
 fcripture, may engage us to attend to it more fe- 
 rioufly. Truth is fo fuitable to our feelings, that, 
 Tvhen fimply propofed, it is commonly acknow- 
 ledged ^ but the impreflion it makes, and the prac- 
 tical ufe of it, depend much upon the variety of 
 attitudes in which it is reprefented, and the argu- 
 ments by which it is confirmed. Let what has 
 been faid excite us to hear attentively and to do 
 carefully the will of God. 
 
 In 
 
SERMON X. i6s 
 
 In the fecond place ; Let us remember that the 
 great defign of rehgion is to make us better men, 
 and that the duties it requires, and the Inflrudion 
 it gives, are all intended for the improvement of 
 the character. The facrament of our Lord's Tap- 
 per, for inftance, is not a mere formal piece of 
 refpe^t, or a tranfient exercife of love to God, 
 gratitude to Chrift, or charity to men ; but fuch 
 an exercife of thefe and other devout afFedions as 
 truly exalts the mind, transforms the heart, and 
 improves the temper. If upon this occafion you 
 admire and adore the goodnefs of God in fending 
 his Son into the world, your admiration becomes 
 a man. If you think with gratitude on the 
 inatchlefs love of your Redeemer, the emotion ia 
 approveable. Who would be a ftranger to fuch 
 a pleafing afFedion ? If the fenfe of your guilt 
 and vmworthinefs, and the view of thofe forrows 
 which they occaiioned to an infulted, fufferingj 
 expiring Saviour, prompt the tear of penitence and 
 fympathy ; let the tear flow ; it would be graceful 
 upon the hero's cheek. But why are all thofe af- 
 fedions proper ? Becaufe they are fuitable to our 
 nature, correfpondent to our circumftances, and 
 perfedive of our charaders. I approve of them : 
 I befeech you, give fcope to them; but at the 
 fame time pray that they may be converted to the 
 improvement of your lives. Frcferve the temper 
 they infufe, the manners they infpire, the views 
 they confer in common life -, and fhew that the 
 dodrines, the life, the death, and the refurredion 
 of Jefus, are the means of raifing you up to new^ 
 nefs of life, and holincfs of converfation. 
 
 S E R^ 
 
SERMON XI. 
 
 Psalm xxIv. 3, 4, 5. 
 
 Whojhallafcendijiiothe hill of the Lord^ andivho 
 Jhall 'ftand ifi his holy place? He that hath clean 
 
 hands ^ and a pure heart \ isoho hath not lift up his 
 foul unto va?2ity^ nor f'worn deceitfully. He fall 
 
 receive the hlejjing from the Lord^ and righteouf 
 . nefsfrom the God of his falvation. 
 
 I 
 
 T is commonly fuppofed, and it appears extreme- 
 ly probable, that this twenty-fourth pfalm was 
 compofed by David, in order to be fung by him- 
 felf, the priefts, the Levites, and the people of 
 Ifrael, when the ark was removed from the houfe 
 of Obededom to mount Zion ^. That the pro- 
 ceffion upon this occalion might be the moreftrik^ 
 ing and folemn, it. was accompanied with a va- 
 riety of mufical inftruments, luch as pfaltcrics, 
 harps, timbrels, cymbals, cornets, and trumpets. 
 Thefe were played upon in concert with the fing-»- 
 
 ^ 2 SAMUEL vi. 
 
 lers, 
 
?68 S E R M O N XL 
 
 crs, whom Cheneniah the mafter of the fong 
 had previoufly inftrudled in their feyeral parts. 
 
 The fixty-eighth pfahn was compofed at the 
 fame time, the recital of which, together with 
 the mufick adapted to it, probably continued till 
 the proceffion came near to mount Zion, when 
 this twenty- fourth pfalm was begun. 
 
 While the two firft verfes were rehearfing, 
 they approached the foot of the hill. Then the 
 king, who had laid afide his royal robes, and af- 
 fumed the drefs of a Levite, advancing, we may 
 fuppofe, a few fteps before the reft, with a voice 
 equally mufical and diRind, afked, in the hearing 
 of the whole affembly, JVho Jhall afcend into the 
 hill of the Lord^^ and who Jhall Jiatid in his holy 
 place ^^ The anfwer was returned by the firft 
 chorus, in thefe expreflive words. He that hath clean 
 hands and a pure heart-, and with equal fpirit con- 
 tinued by the fecond ; who hath not lift up his foul 
 imto "caniiy^ norjworn deceitfully. iVfter this the 
 king, the priefts, and the Levites, tranfported 
 with joy, lifting up all at once their voices in con- 
 cert with the mufical inftruments, might fing the 
 following verfe ; He /hall receive the bleffing from 
 the Lord, and right coujnejs from the God dfhisfal-r 
 vation. 
 
 How grand this proceffion muft have been, 
 and how elevating the mufick with which it was 
 attended, I leave every one to imagine, and I 
 fliall only obferve that, in this inftance, we find 
 itiufick under the care of one who was fo perfedl 
 
 a mafter 
 
SERMON XL 169 
 
 a mafterof it, employing its irrefiftible power to 
 excite all thofe fublime and devout emotions, 
 which tend to raife and purify the minds of men. 
 That we may more fully enter into the fpirit of 
 that part of the pfalm which is to be the founda- 
 tion of our prefent difcourfe, the following ob- 
 fervations may be ufeful. 
 
 In a variety of paffages of the old teftaraent 
 we difcover the refped and awe which filled tha 
 minds of the facred writers, and of the Jews in 
 general, when they mentioned the hill of Zion. 
 Upon this mountain the ark of God, who dwelt 
 between the cherubirri, the authentick fymbol, 
 and fure pledge of the divine prefence, was now 
 to be depofited, and here it remained for a confi- 
 derable time. For this reafon it was called 
 the hill of God^ the holy hill^ the mount which the 
 Lord had chofcn^ where he was io dwells hecaufe he 
 had defiled if^. The houfe of their king was 
 alfo built upon the fame ground ; the mofl fiately 
 towers were ereded upon it, and it was defended 
 by the ftrongeft fortifications. Thus at once the 
 feat of beauty, and of ftrength, the habitation of 
 divine power, and the manfion of earthly majefty, 
 it became peculiarly venerable ; and the very 
 name of Zion naturally excited the fervours of re- 
 ligion and the zeal of patriotifm. Thefe fenfa- 
 tions, awakened at this time by the novelty and 
 fblemnity of the proce.Tion, and enlivened by the 
 prefence and participation of their fovereign, mufl 
 
 ■ PSALM cxxxii. 
 
 have 
 
J70 SERMON XI. 
 
 have rifen to a degree of enthufiafm, which, when 
 well placed and happily directed, conveys fuch 
 rapture, I had almoft faid fuch innocent, tumul- 
 tuous joy, that the man who hath never felt it may 
 be juftly confidered as an objed of pity. When 
 therefore the infpired monarch fpoke and faid, 
 WiiO Jhall afcend into the kill of the Lord ?* IVho 
 JJiall Jiandin his holy placed every word muft have 
 roufed attention, and every look communicated 
 reverence. 
 
 The general pradice of thofe who live in warm- 
 er climates, the whole fyftem of Jewifh man- 
 ners, the particular ablutions and purifications 
 prefcribed to that people, the diftind^ion of their 
 meats into clean and unclean, gave a natural ten- 
 dency to exprefs whatever was perfed in its kind, 
 by the metaphors of cleannefs and purity j and 
 though in every language thefe phrafes, cleaiinefs 
 of hands and purity of hearty are fufhciently in- 
 telligible for denoting a general rcditude of con- 
 dud, and honeiiy of intention, yet in the Hebrew 
 language they had a peculiar degree of force and 
 vivacity. By reminding the affembly of thofe 
 ceremonies and diftindions which were fo exprefs- 
 ly pointed out by their law, and fo religioufly 
 obferved by their nation, they conveyed the ideas 
 now intended, with more than ordinary advanr 
 tage. JVe acknowledge that tlie exprelfions are 
 proper j a Jew felt that they were nervous. 
 When the firfl: chorus replied to the king, He 
 that hath clean hands^ and a pure hearty not an 
 honeft and a worthy man prefent, but mufi: have 
 rejoiced in the fecret gratulations of his own 
 
 heart -^ 
 
SERMON XI. 171 
 
 heart; and not a thief, a robber, a cheat, or a 
 hypocrite, but mud have perceived his joints be- 
 gin to tremble, and his heart to fail him as he 
 proceeded. 
 
 As the 5rfi chorus gave the general chara^ier of 
 a good man, the fecond feems to have warned 
 againi^ thofe purticular vices to which the Jews 
 long difcovered a mod adonifhing propeniity, and 
 from -^vhich the Almighty ufed every method to 
 guard them. 
 
 In the language of fcripture the falfe gods 
 which the nations worfhip are frequently called 
 vanities : the worlhip of them is frequently diled 
 fol ouoi.'/g after vanity \ and putting confidence in 
 them is termed tnijiifig in vanity. As the Jews 
 were ever ready to join in the idolatry of their 
 heathen neighbours, to imprefs on their minds a 
 fenfe of that crime, and to excite a refolution 
 againft it, was extremely fuitable to the defign of 
 their prefent affembly. The fuperftitious rites of 
 the Jebufites, their facrifices to their idols, had 
 perhaps been performed in the very fpot where 
 the ark of God was to be placed. It was una- 
 voidable to remember their abominations : it 
 would have been improper not to have pointed 
 * out, in this inflance, the difference which ought 
 to fubfiA between the defcendants of Shem, and 
 thofe of Can? an. The man that boweth his knee 
 to an idol is not worthy to call upon the name of 
 the Lord. The Ifraeiite was only to lift up his 
 foul unto God, 
 
 In 
 
i^z S E R M O N XI. 
 
 In the days of primitive fimplicity, before 
 avarice, vicious refinements, and deceitful reafon- 
 ings had corrupted the hearts of men, an oath 
 was accounted the moft facred and inviolable of 
 all obligations. An appeal to the Moft High was 
 reckoned fo awful and folemn, that the rocks, 
 the mountains, or the heavenly bodies, were fuf- 
 iicient vouchers of its authenticity, and no man 
 was called as a witnefs to engagements which 
 fcarce any man thought of infringing. The piles 
 of ftones (o often ereded in Judea, the trees with 
 which the country abounded, gave teftimony to 
 the piety and fidelity of its inhabitants. In thefe 
 circumftances, the breach of an oath muft be 
 generally looked upon with particular abhorrence j 
 and therefore as the man that fwore to his own 
 hurt^ and changed not^ was among them a cha- 
 racter of the firft confideration, it was a neceffary 
 confequence, that the deceitful fwearer fhould be 
 an objed of the greateft deteftation. Perhaps too, 
 juft before this period, David may have made the 
 people enter into one of thofe covenants, fo com- 
 mon among the Jews, by which they bound 
 themfelves in the moft folemn manner to adhere 
 to the worfhip of the true God. On this fuppofi- 
 tion, there is a fingular propriety in the words 
 added by the fecond chorus immediately after 
 thofe pronounced by the firft j JVho hath not lifted 
 up his foul unto vanity^ jior fxorn deceitfully. 
 
 Thus enlivened by the prefence of a fplendid 
 afiembly, foothed and animated by the chorus of 
 facred mufick attending the ark of God, who was 
 diftinguifhed amont; them by the title of the Lord 
 
 of 
 
SERMON XL 171 
 
 of Hofls^ ready to enter a city which had long 
 been poflelTed by their foes, in the view of a fove- 
 reign who was the father of his people, every eye 
 would fparkle with joy, every heart afpire to per- 
 fection, and every voice be ambitious to join in 
 the 8;eneral choir. Struck with the charader of 
 the righteous man every one would be interefted 
 in his favour, and every one would offer up a 
 prayer for his profperity. In this fituation, the 
 words which David had taught his attendants 
 muft entirely correfpond to their own feelings ; 
 and with one heart, and one voice they would 
 pronounce, He Jhall receive the hie ffing from the 
 Lwd^ and right eoiijnefs from the God of his falva- 
 tion. The voice of the Omnipotent feemed to re- 
 echo in every year, Blejfed Jhalt thou he iti the city, 
 and hlejfed fhalt thou he in the field. Bleffed Jhall he 
 the fruit of thy hody^ and the fruit of thy ground, 
 and the fruit of thy cattle^ the increafe of thy kine, 
 and the flocks of thy fheep, Bleffed fhall he thy 
 hqfket and thy fore. Bleffed fhalt thou he when thou 
 comeft ifi, and hleffed fhalt thou he when thou goeft 
 cut ^. Thofe who had more enlarged, and elevat- 
 ed views, looked for ftill nobler bleflings, and 
 trufted that the period of their perfed joy was to 
 begin, when that which fo fully fatisfied others 
 was terminated. 
 
 These obfervations may afTift us not only to 
 apprehend the meaning, but to enter into the 
 fpirit of the pafTage now under confideration. 
 
 ^ DUET, xxviii. 3, 4, 5, 6. 
 
 Its \j 
 
174 SERMON XL 
 
 Its application to the intention of our prefent 
 rceet.ing is fo obvious, that it fcarceiy needs to be 
 pointed out: The charader which was requilite 
 in order to ir.ake a proper approach to God under 
 the law, is furely not lels rcquilite in order to 
 make a .proper approach to him under the gofpeL 
 If the everlafting Godwas ready to bettow bleA 
 finQ;s on the righteous pofterity of Abraham, he 
 will nc't be lefs ready to bellow them on the fin- 
 cere difciples of Chrift. 
 
 In difjoiirfing therefore from this portion of 
 fcripture, I propofe, in a dependance on divine 
 grace, to conlider the charader which is necefTary 
 in order to fit ns for waiting on God in his ordi^ 
 nances ; and to conclude with fome refledions. 
 
 First, I propofe to confider the charader 
 which is necefTary in order to fit us for waiting on 
 God in his ordinances. It is thus defcribed in the 
 words of the text ; He that hath clean hands ^ and a 
 pure heart; who hath not lift tip his foul unto vanity , 
 nor fivorn deceitfully. 
 
 In every charader which would gain the ap-* 
 probation of thinking men, much more in that 
 which would find acceptance with .the all-wife 
 God, an inoffenfive behaviour is the leaft thing 
 required. The rapacious wretch, whofe houfe is 
 filled with the gains of opprellion, with the goods 
 of the widow and fatherlefs, dr the proviiion 
 which the poor man had laid up for his fub- 
 fiitence -, the unrelenting mifer, and the fecret 
 defrauder, may affume the appearance of religion, 
 
 and 
 
S E R M ON XI. 175 
 
 and pradice fome of its duties ; but the voice of 
 reafon loudly exclaims a^ainft their vain pretenfi- 
 ons. By fallacious reafonings, • foolifli diftindions^ 
 and a violent zeal, they may impofe upon them- 
 felves. The deceitfulnefs of lin may partly blind 
 them J but their charaders cannot fo much as 
 bear the infpedion of men like themfelves. How- 
 then can they ftand before the judgment of God? 
 Liften to the firfl: didates of nature, to the awful 
 voice within you, which, when permitted, never 
 fails to fpeak the truth ; attend to the plaineft 
 precepts of the gofpel, and be perfuaded that 
 without integrity of life, and decency of condud, 
 all pretenfions to religion are perfedly frivolous. 
 Is this truth fo manifeft, that it needs not be 
 infifted on ? Common fenfe fays it is, but the 
 pradice of men feems often to affert the contrary. 
 Did the Pharifees blufh, when they joined in the 
 exercifes of religion, though they robbed widows 
 houfcs, and pradifed all manner of injuftice ? Do 
 not multitudes at this day, who dare not openly 
 avow it, whifper it to themfelves as a ground for 
 their fecurity in fin, that the performance of fome 
 pofitive duties will ferve as an atonement for the 
 negled of many moral ones ? But let heaven and 
 earth bear witnefs, that he who is an enemy to 
 man, cannot be acceptable to God. This then is 
 the firft branch of the charader we are now inquir- 
 ing into, a freedom from all open and fecret 
 injuftice, from every enormity, and indecency in 
 outward condud. 
 
 But the utmoft circumfpedion with refped to 
 the external behaviour i§ far from being fulficient 
 
 to 
 
176 SERMON XI. 
 
 to render us acceptable worfhippers to God. Man 
 fees only the a«^ioos ; he can difcover no more of 
 the difpofition than thefe lay open. It is the pre^ 
 rogative of God to Jearch the hearty and to try the 
 reins. The fecret motives which adtuate the foul 
 are perfedly known to him who formed it ; and 
 unlefs they are upright, in vain do we look for 
 his acceptance. Blejfed are the pure in hearty for 
 they Jhall fee God^\ They alone are approved by 
 him, and they only are capable of enjoying him. 
 If you prefent a book to an illiterate perfon, 
 fairly printed, and elegantly bound, he eOimates 
 its value from its outward appearance ; but a wife 
 man looks into its contents, confiders thefe, and 
 pronounces accordingly. The heart is a book 
 W'hich God alone is able perfe(ftly to read, and he 
 pronounces with unerring judgment and impartia- 
 lity. As the Jiag that groweth up 'without ivater, 
 ivhilJJ: it is yet in its greennejs^ wither eth before any 
 other herh^ jo the hypocrite s hope Jhall peri fi. Hif 
 hope Jhall be cut off^ and his truji Jhall be as the 
 Jpiders web ^. 
 
 Ye are called in Chrift Jefus to be the temples 
 of the Holy Ghoji ^. The requeft of our Saviour 
 is, My fon^ give rne thy heart. And if it is pof* 
 feffed of the riches of this world, corrupted by- 
 its pleafures, or engroffcd by its vanities, will you 
 prefume to prefent it as a fuitable oblation to God ? 
 How pious, how benevolent, how pure ought 
 
 ^ MATT. V. 8. ^ JOB. xiii. II, 12, 13, 14- 
 ^ I COR. vi. 19. 
 
 his 
 
SERMON XI. 177 
 
 his intentions to be, who deliberately fubjeds him- 
 felf to the infpedion ef that eye, which is more 
 quick and penetrating than the lightning of hea- 
 ven ! Is the feat of corruption a fit habitation 
 for the Spirit of God? Is the heart w^hich is the 
 Have of a harlot, a proper offering for the Son of 
 God ? Will he who calls himfclf in fcripture the 
 jealous God^ endure any rival in your affedions ? 
 You never had an inclination to bow before an 
 image ; to offer fasrifice to Baal, or to worfhip 
 any of the gods of the heathens, never entered 
 into your thoughts. Can you be faid then never 
 to have lifted up your foul unto vanity ? Alas ! 
 the attention which is commonly paid to gold and 
 filver, the facriiices of truth and honefty, virtue 
 and humanity, which are made to attain them, 
 fhew fufHciently in what veneration they are held 
 by their votaries. Are they not properly the idols 
 before which the covetous bow? Have malice or 
 revenge, or other irregular pailions, ever ruled 
 over you, and fubjeded you to their fway ? If 
 they have, remember the voice of truth hath fpo- 
 ken it, /? are kis jervants wJiomfoever je obey^. 
 Let no man deceive you with vain words : He that 
 doeth righteoujnejs is righteous^ even as God is righ- 
 teous ". 
 
 In our defcription of the man who can ftand 
 before the the Lord, we hav^e not yet taken no- 
 tice of a principal part of his charavfter drawn in 
 my text. It is added, he hath not /worn deceirfully, 
 
 ® ROM. vi. 16. " I JOHN, iii. 7. 
 
 N When 
 
J78 S E R M ON XI. 
 
 When I look back to ancient ages, I fee almofl: 
 whole nations of Pagans, among whom an oath 
 was a pledge of fidelity fcarce ever broken. Even 
 a dilfolute heathen poet who was favourable to fo 
 many other vices, hath expreffed the greateft ab- 
 horrence of this. How fhameful is the degenera- 
 cy of nations called chriftian ! Thou Sovereign Fa- 
 ther of the univerfe, forgive their depravity, and 
 convert them. Let the beft example, the mod 
 wholefome laws, and the ftrongeft motives, unite 
 in making thofe who profefs this religion, the beft 
 of men. I fliould be unworthy, altogether un- 
 worthy of my place or office, if I feared to tell the 
 highelt among my hearers, that even the common 
 oaths ftill pradifed by many, however trifling they 
 may appear to the thoughtlefs or the debauched, 
 Ihock the ears, and kindle the indignation of eve- 
 ry ferious chriftian, and render the man who is 
 addided to them, totally unfit for approaching to 
 God, whofe name he affronts, and whofe autho- 
 rity he defpifes. But 1 fhould be unjuft to every 
 principle of virtue and religion, if I hefitated to 
 declare, that the riches of the Indies, purchafed 
 by one falfe or equivocating oath, are bought at 
 too dear a price. I hail as the difciple of Jefus, 
 the pooreft man who can fay, I have loft this 
 world's goods, but by the grace of God, I have 
 preferved my integrity. Much haft thou gained, 
 thou happieft vidor ; and infignificant are the 
 toys which thou haft loft. But the man who is 
 wealthy or powerful, byunjuflifiable methods, who 
 has not fcrupled to perjure himfelf, or to involve 
 others in that horrible crime ; my foul, enter not 
 into his fccret, dwell not in his habitation. He 
 
 is 
 
S E R M O N XL 179 
 
 is a corrupter of the fociety of men : how detefta- 
 ble mufl he be in the fight of God 1 
 
 Thus keeping my text in view, I have deHne- 
 ated fome features of that charader, which is ne- 
 ceffary to fit us for waiting on God in his ordinan- 
 ces. I have pointed out fome of thofe virtues 
 which (hould adorn it, and laid open fome of thofe 
 vices which ought never to ftain it. It may ftill 
 be proper to be more particular; and as the dif- 
 play of real characfters has a tendency to convey 
 inftrudion more forcibly than general defcriptions, 
 it may not be unallowable to paint a few ; fuch as 
 I hope will be found in life, and fuch as I am 
 fure we ought to imitate in thofe duties which 
 fuit our fituation, if we wifh to be acceptable in 
 the fight of God. 
 
 First of all then, figure to yourfelves an emi- 
 nent merchant, who had enjoyed the happinefs 
 of a religious and virtuous education. From his 
 infancy the fentiments of piety were wrought into 
 his mind, and they were f^rengthened with his 
 years. He was not exempted from the temptations 
 that are incident to youth. He had often refilled 
 them, but with forrow he found that they had 
 frequently been too powerful for him, or that he 
 too eafily yielded to them. Yet with humble hope, 
 he betook himfelf to the mercy of God, thro' the 
 mediation of his Saviour. His heart was open 
 to that divine influence, which is never denied 
 to fuch as afl-c it. After many fevere confiidls 
 with his paflions, he was happily confirmed in re- 
 ligion, and an eftabiiflied charadler amongfl all 
 
 N 2 who 
 
iSd SERMON XT. 
 
 who knew him. His fellow merchants, in every 
 exigency, were ready to confiilt him, and to fol- 
 low his advice. It w'as always didated by inte- 
 grity and good fenfe. The poor blefTed him. To 
 no public fpirited defign that lay within the reach 
 of his abilities, did he ever refufehis aid: neither 
 his friends, his family, nor the ftate, had ever 
 reafon to reproach him. The regularity of his 
 public devotions, and the chearfulnefs of his 
 temper were equally remarkable. No man fuf- 
 peded that he was remifs in the private duties of 
 rehgion ; but he was fo fecret in the performance 
 of them, that the feafons he fet apart for this 
 purpofe, were fcarcely known to thofe who lived 
 in the fame houfe with him. A variety of inci- 
 dents would occur in fuch a man's life, that could 
 not fail to difcover his religious temper. It may 
 be inftrudive to fpecify a few. 
 
 A NEIGHBOUR who was the father of a nume- 
 fous family came to him one day, and told him 
 that by his interpofition he could receive a fupply 
 of a cei^tain kind of merchandize which would be 
 a mean of faving his credit, and preventing the 
 ruin of his family. He happened to have a large 
 quantity of the fame goods on hand. The bring- 
 ing more muft liurt his profit confiderably ; but 
 humanity and religion did not fuffer him to he- 
 fitate a moment. He granted his requeft. The 
 embarrailed circumftances of another neighbour 
 made him willing to difpofe of certain efted^s below 
 tlieir real value. He made the oifer to the man 
 whofe chara(fler I am now delineating. He paid 
 ki.m at the common rate, and fufpeding that 
 
 vanity 
 
SERMON XL i8r 
 
 vanity might partly have prompted him, almofl; 
 condemned himlelf for faying, 1 never yet took 
 advantage of any man : God forbid that I fliould 
 begin with you. To recount all the good offices 
 of fuch a man, whofe life was dedicated to virtue 
 and religion, were endlefs. There was fcarce a 
 day of his life, in which fome generous or friend- 
 ly, fome charitable or pious adion would not be 
 told of him by his neighbours ; and no evening 
 would everpafs away, in which he was not ready 
 to fay, I proftrate myfelf, O God, before thy 
 throne j Lord be merciful to me a {inner. To 
 this man we may perfuade ourfelves the favour of 
 heaven would not be wanting. Temperance and 
 adivity would naturally conduce to his health ; 
 nor will ye wonder that his affairs profpered in 
 confequence of his induftry and prudence, joined 
 to the blefling of God, and the confidence of 
 thofe with whom he was conneded in bufinefs. 
 It would rather be ftrange if in his cafe the obfer- 
 vation of Solomon were not verified : hi wifdom's 
 right hand is le?igth of days^ aud in her left hand 
 are riches and honour \ I reverence this charac- 
 ter ; and were I in company with fuch a perfon» 
 I fliould be apt in the overflowing of my heart to 
 cry out. Peace is in the dwelling of the upright, 
 and the favour of God fliall not depart from him. 
 I fhould be folicitous to know the fecret emotions 
 of his foul. I believe him to be a faint, and I 
 (hould not be furprizcd if he fpoke to me in fuch 
 terms as thefc. '"^ I am confcious that the world, 
 
 ' PRov. iii i6. 
 
 " oftea 
 
i8« S E R M O N XI. 
 
 " often unjuft to better men, afcribes to me more 
 " than I deferve, On a thoufand things in my 
 " pafl life, I look back with regret. I am not 
 " infenfible to the pleafures of goodnefs, but can- 
 ** not help at the fame time feeling and lamenting 
 " the diforders of my heart, and the errors of my 
 " condnd. I adore the all-perfed Being, and 
 " humble myfelf before him in duft and afhes. 
 " In the meritorious obedience, the unfpotted fa- 
 " crifice, and the powerful interceffion of Jefus, 
 " 1 place my only hope." Wouldjto God, that in 
 moft of its features, this chara61er were a juft re- 
 prefentation of many in this afferably. 
 
 Human life, my brethern, is a diverfified 
 fcene. A fingle charader gives but a confined 
 reprefentation of it. My profeffion calls me to 
 the pradice of many duties, and to the exercife of 
 fome virtues, which are notfo immediately necef- 
 fary in your ftation. You are fubjeded to many 
 difficulties, and expofed to many fnares, from 
 which my lot in the world has exempted me. To 
 give therefore a more extenfive view of the man 
 who will be acceptable in his approaches to God, 
 let us fubjoin fome other charaders. 
 
 In the fame place, we fhall fuppofe, there 
 lived a perfon very different in feveral refpeds 
 from him we have already defcribed. Let thofe 
 fcenes which marked his early days, and which he 
 now laments, be for ever buried in oblivion. 
 Being afterwards the father of a numerous family, 
 he was by fome of the feverer domeftic afflidions 
 led to confideration. Confideration produced re- 
 
 pentancej 
 
S E R M O N XI. i8i 
 
 pentance ; and by the grace of God, repentance 
 for the paft ended in a thorough reformation for 
 the future. A train of evils however feemed ftill 
 to attend him. At firft his faith wavered ; but 
 often tried, it grew ftronger every day. Perhaps 
 too great feverity fucceeded his former diflipati on ; 
 but the regrets he felt, and the calamities he fuf- 
 fered, rendered this very pardonable. Of many 
 it has been remarked, that age, other purfuits, 
 and different cares have produced a change to the 
 better: But concerning him every one w-as ready 
 to fay, How powerful is religion, and how vinble 
 are the effeds of divine grace ! The reflection 
 upon his own failings" rendered him wonderfully 
 mild in his judgment of others, but engaged him 
 in many ads of mortification, which were termed 
 fuperftitious by the uncandid, but which he ap-. 
 prehended to be neceiTary in his cafe, and there- 
 fore of religious obligation. A feries of diftrefs 
 ftill purfued him. Deprived at laft of the confo- 
 lations he was w'ont to receive from a virtuous 
 and afi'edionate wife, bereft of many hopeful chil- 
 dren, funk into poverty by unavoidable difafters, 
 fo many misfortunes brought wrinkles on \m 
 countenance, and gave an early greynefs to his. 
 locks. With his eyes lifted to heaven, whilft the 
 tears flow down his cheeks, imagine you hear 
 this fon of afiiidion thus addreifing himfelf to 
 Jiis Creator; O my (»od, pity and fupport me. 
 My fufferings are not equal to my fins, yet, 
 merciful Father, remember I am duft, lay not on 
 me more than I am able to bear. But whatever 
 it may pleafe thy providence to inflid, prefcrve 
 me from repining, and have mercy on me for his 
 
 fake 
 
i84 S E R M O N XI. 
 
 fake who was acquainted with ^rief and fuffering, 
 and who came to feek and to fave that which was 
 loft. Nothing can ftrike that is not particular ; 
 let us attend then more narrowly to this man's 
 chara^ier. It was diftinguifhed by patience, felf- 
 denial, and fortitude. After his reformation, no 
 man could hear him fay, I have done every thing, 
 but Providence frowns upon me. Being prefTed to 
 receive benefactions from fome who knew !^is fi- 
 tuatif)n, he who in his better days had given libe- 
 rally, would reply to this purpofe: " Vvhen I can 
 '' firuggle no longer, I will readily and gratefully 
 " accept the aiiiitance of others -, but while m.y 
 " health and capacity remain, I fhall never re- 
 " ceive what ought to be beftov^^ed on the more 
 ^' indigent and helpiefs." Suppofe him at length 
 on the bed of death, in fail pofTellion of his rea- 
 fbn, would it not be natural for him to exprefs 
 his fentiments in fome fuch manner as this ; O 
 my friends, love God. Adhere to the laws of 
 Jefus Chrift, and know that your labour (hall not 
 be in vain. You behold me worn out with age, 
 and overwhelmed with calamities ; but without 
 the confolations of religion I had been utterly 
 WTCtched and undone. My warfare is now ac- 
 complifhed. Gracious God, forgive the errors of 
 my youth, and the fins of my riper years. My 
 foul revives within me. The grace of my re- 
 deemer gives me new ftrength. O condud m.e 
 fram this valley of tears to the regions of glory 
 and felicity. Come Lord Jefus, come quickly. 
 Who is not ready in fuch a cafe to fay in the 
 words of Balaam, Let me die the death of the righ- 
 
 teoiis^ 
 
S E R M O N XI. 185 
 
 teous^ and let mj> loft end he like his ^ .? But to 
 proceed, 
 
 In the fight of God, my brethern, no ftatlon 
 is mean. In his view it Is not rank, hut conduct 
 only, that can dignify or difgrace. Let us fup- 
 pofe then a perfon, whofe birth, education and 
 natural endowments confine him to one of the 
 lowell fpheres of life. While he ferves his fe low 
 mortal, he fhews himfc^lf the fervant of God. 
 The ordinary duties of his ftation are not very 
 extenfive or very numerous, but he is thoroughly 
 cdhfclentlous in the performance of them. His 
 inte'j[.rity and affidnity arc irreproachable : Uncor- 
 rupted by the vices of others, he neither purloins 
 his mafter's goods, nor permits his intereft to fuf- 
 fer by his negligence. The maxims of honour 
 and meannefs which depend upon a commerce 
 with the world, and which are not without their 
 ufe, do not aduate him, he is influenced by no- 
 bler and more rational motives, he ads from Cn- 
 glenefs of heart, fearing God whom he knows to 
 be no refpedor of perfons. He confiders himfelf 
 as one who is bought by the blood of Chrifl, in 
 whom -there is no diftindion of rich or poor, or 
 bond or free; and that gratitude and duty bind 
 him to obey his laws. He knows that every faith- 
 ful difciple of Jefus is an heir of eternal happlnefs. 
 This raifeth him above the world. Satisfied with 
 the humble greatncfs of a good confciencc, he 
 
 ^ NUMB, xxiii. ro. 
 
 defervei 
 
i86 S E R M O N Xt 
 
 deferves more refped than thoufands that arc 
 clad in purple and fine linen. 
 
 But to imprefs your minds with a fenfe of 
 thofe virtues which are required in the worlhip- 
 persof God, why fhould I have recourfe to fuch 
 defcriptions as thefe ? The fcripture itfelf has in 
 various places in the ftrongeft and livelieft manner 
 defcribed the condud that is neceffary for fitting 
 us to appear before the Lord, Let us feled: fome 
 of the moft remarkable paffages where this fub- 
 je(fl is treated. The whole of the fifteenth pfalm 
 is taken up in defcribing a citizen of Zion. It 
 begins with a queftion exadly the fame with 
 that in our text, Lord^ WhoJhaU abide in thy ta- 
 bernacle ? Wlwjhall dwell in thy holy hillt Attend 
 carefully to the anfwer which is given. 
 
 The import of the enquiry in the fixth chapter 
 of Micah is the famej and the anfwer is coinci- 
 dent. There is a firange tendency in the cor- 
 rupted nature of man, to apprehend that he can 
 pleafe God by mere external obfervances. This 
 is firongly exemplified in the Jews, and no lefs 
 ftrongly expofed by the prophets, who never fail 
 to infill on the neceflity of a holy and beneficent 
 life. JVherefore^ fays the Jews, have we fajled^ 
 and thou Jeejl not ^1* And what fays the prophet? 
 JVafhye^ make you deafly put away the evil of your 
 doings from before mine eyes, ceafe to do evil, learn 
 to do well, feek judgment, relieve the opprejfed. 
 Judge the fat her lefs, plead for the widow ". 
 
 ^ IS. Iviii. 3. ^ CHAP. i. 16. 
 
 The 
 
SERMON X. 187 
 
 The do(51rine of our divine mafter, who came 
 not to deftroy the law or the prophets, but to 
 fulfil them, entirely correfponds to this. In his 
 fermon upon the mount, none are termed bleiTed, 
 but thofe who were pofTefled of the feveral vir- 
 tues there recommended. No man could be a 
 difciple, or, according to the phrafe of fcripture, 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven who^Q righteoufnefs 
 did not exceed the righteoufnefs of the fcrihes and 
 pharifees ^. The whole tenor of the gofpel de- 
 clares, that tfi Chrifi Jefus circnmcijion availeth 
 7iotning^ nor iincircumcifion^ hut a new creature ", 
 Such of his parables as moft fully difplay the 
 mercy of his difpenfation, particularly thofe of 
 the pharifee and publican, and of the prodigal 
 fon, do likewife fhew the neceflity of an humble 
 fpirit, and a right temper, in order to acceptance 
 with the fupreme judge. There is not a greater 
 blafphemy againft the Son of God, than to fup- 
 pofe that he meant by his doflrine to loofen the 
 obligations of virtue and purity, of which he 
 exhibited in his life fo perfect a pattern, and 
 which in his teaching he recommends with fo 
 much warmth and energy. I might alfo infifl on 
 the example of thofe, whofe hiftory the fcripture 
 records for our inftrudion. I might defcribe the 
 righteoufnefs of Abel, of Noah, of Abraham ; 
 tlie virtue of Jofeph, the mecknefs of Mofes, the 
 integrity of Samuel, the patience of Job, the for- 
 titude of the prophets, the zeal, the charity, and 
 the magnanimity of the apoftles. To illuftrate 
 
 " MAT. V. 20. ^ GAL. vi. I 5, 
 
 the 
 
iSS S E R M O N ^XI. 
 
 the fame point, I might difcourfe on the penitence 
 of David, the contrition of Peter, and the happy 
 confequences with which they were followed. In 
 iliort, the whole of the bible from beginning to 
 end would confpire in confirming that antient 
 oracle of heaven, If thou doeft well^ Jhah thou not 
 be accepted'^ And if thou doeft not well ^ Jin lieth at 
 the door ^, and in teaching this important principle, 
 That the prayers of the wicked are an ahomination 
 to the JLord^\ but that the cry of the righteous 
 reacheth to the throne of God, and that the lift- 
 ing up of their hands is as acceptable as the inorn^ 
 ing and the evening facrijice , 
 
 I SHALL now conclude with a few refledions. 
 In the firfc place, fince the charader which is re- 
 quifite for rendering us acceptable worfhippers of 
 God, is fo pure and holy, how careful fliould w^e 
 be to inquire whether it is ours ? We are fo con- 
 ftituted, that the prefence of a fellow creature 
 gives us a defire of appearing to him in a favoura- 
 ble light. This defire is fenfibly felt before an 
 equal, but it exerts itfelf more flrongly before a 
 fuperior. Even the moft virtuous are not without 
 a wifh to know by what honefl: means they may 
 render themfelves agreeable. If this is natural, 
 how inexcu fable muft it be to approach precipi- 
 tately the prefence of that Being, before whom 
 the angels cover their faces with their wings ? Need 
 I fay, that his approbation is of more importance 
 than that of the world ? Need 1 fliov/ that his 
 
 ^ GEN. iv. 7. ^PRov. xxviii. 9 
 
 favour 
 
^ S E R M O N XI. 189 
 
 favour is life, and his loving kindnefs is better 
 than life ? How folicitous then fhould we be to 
 know, whether we are the objeds of it ? Let us 
 therefore attend to the language of our conduct, 
 and examine the difpofition of our hearts. This 
 is not a work to be gone about flightly ; it ought 
 to be performed with the utmofl ferioufnefs and 
 ftridnefs. If we find that the love of God and 
 man has been the main fpring of our adions, let 
 us give God the glory, and refolve, that by his 
 grace ftrengtheningus we will perfevere, and go on 
 to perfedion. To ferious refolutions let us add 
 fervent prayers to God, addreffing him in the 
 words of the pflilmift," Search me^ God, and 
 knoii) my heart * try me and know my thoughts. And 
 fee if there he any wicked ivay in me^ and lead me in 
 the way everlafang ^, 
 
 Finally, fince that condud and temper 
 "which God requires in thofe who approach him, 
 is fo blamelefs and holy, what reafon have we all 
 to humble ourfelves in his fight, and to acknow- 
 ledge and deplore our unworthinefs ? IFe have all 
 ftnned and come Jlort of his glory % and were he 
 ft rid: to mark iniquity, we could tiotftandhefore hifn, 
 7ior anjwer for one of a thonfand ^ . The beft men 
 are far below the fiandard of perfeOion, and too 
 fenfible of their defe^fls to plead their virtue at the 
 tribunal of juftice, or to challenge as their right 
 the friendfiiip of the fupreme. And how far are 
 we below the chavader of the beft ? With what 
 
 '^ PS. cxxxix. 23, 24. ^ ROM. iii. 23. "^job. ix. 3. 
 
 contrition 
 
ISO S E R M O N X I. 
 
 contrition fhould a review of our paft offences fill 
 our minds ? and what humility fhould the con- 
 fcioufnefs of prefent frailties infpire? Happy is 
 man who has been early led into the paths of vir- 
 tue, and purfues his journey towards perfection 
 with unremitting fteps. Happy in the next de- 
 gree the finner, who, pierced with a fenfe of his 
 guilt and mifery, flees from both by a fpeedy re- 
 pentance, and implores pardon in the blood of 
 Chrift. If you, my brethren, perceive the beauty 
 of holinefs, if you love it, and if you refolve to 
 pradife it, come to God in humble confidence of 
 his mercy thro* Jefus your redeemer, by whom we 
 are warranted to affure you that ye Ihall not be 
 rejecfted. It is your Saviour's charader, that he 
 •will not break the bruifed reed^ nor quench the Jmoak- 
 ingjlax ". If you are fick of fm, and weary of its 
 bondage, be not afraid of applying to him who is 
 the phyfician of the fick, and the deliverer of the 
 captive. With the outftretched arms of unbound- 
 ed companion he will receive you as his brethren, 
 and his friends. Tejhall receive the hleffing from 
 the Lord, and righteoujnefs from the God ofyourfal- 
 vation. 
 
 " MAT, xii. 20. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XII. 
 
 Luke xv. i i — 24. 
 
 And he faid^ A certain man hadtwofons: and the 
 younger of them /aid to his father^ Fat her ^ give 
 me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And 
 he divided unto them his living. And not many 
 days after ^ the younger [on gathered all together .^ 
 and took his journey into afar country^ and there 
 wafted his fiihflance with riotous living. And 
 when he had /pent all, there arofe a mighty fami?2e 
 in that land-, and he began to he in want. And he 
 went arid joined him fe If to a citizen of that country^ 
 andhejent him into his fields to feed f vine. And 
 he would fain have filled his belly with the hiifks 
 that the fwine did eat : and no man gave unto km. 
 And when he ca?ne to himfelf he f aid. How inariy 
 hired ferva?its of my father s have bread e?20ugh to 
 Jpare, and I per i/li with hunger ! Iwillarife, and 
 go to my father, and will fay to him. Father, I 
 have fn?ied againft heaven, and before thee, and 
 am 710 7nore worthy to be called thy fon : make me 
 as one of thy hired fervants. And he arofe, and 
 catne to his father. But when he was yet a great 
 way off, his father faiv him, and had compaffion^ 
 and ran, and fell on his 7ieck^ and kiffed him. And 
 
 the 
 
jgz SERMON XII. 
 
 the Jon faid mito him^ Father^ I have Jinned 
 agai/iji heaven^ and in thy Jtght, and am no more 
 imrthy to be called thy Jon. But the father faid to 
 his J'ervants^ Bring Jorth the beji robe^ arid put it 
 071 him^ and put a ring on his hand^ and Jhoes on 
 his feet. And bring hither the fatted cidf and 
 kill it J and let us eat and be merry. For this my 
 Jon was dead., and is alive again \ he was lo/l, and 
 isfoimd. And they began to be merry. 
 
 IT 
 A H E company to which our Saviour addreffed 
 
 his difcourfe at this time, conlifted of men who 
 had very different diaraciers, and who, to out- 
 ward appearance, were very unlike in their man- 
 ners. The pubhcans, who were the collectors of 
 the taxes impofed by the Romans, and who were 
 extremely difagreeable to the Jews, both on ac- 
 count of their office and their behaviour in the 
 execution of it, with many others equally notori- 
 ous for their vices, made up one clafs of his 
 hearers. The other clafs conlifted of the fcribes 
 and pharifees, whofe pretences to purity and 
 fandity were very high, who treated thofe who 
 differed from them with the moft fupercilious con- 
 tempt, affuming an exclufive privilege of being 
 accounted holy j while at the fame time their 
 hearts were altogether vitiated and corrupted. 
 
 The parables recorded in this chapter are ad- 
 mirably calculated for inftruding the former of 
 thofe clafTes in the extent of the divine mercy, 
 and thus engaging tliem to fly to its protedion, 
 
 and 
 
SERMON XII. 195 
 
 and for reproving the uncharitablenefs and felF- 
 fufficiency of the latter. In the two firft parables, 
 that of the loft fheep and that of the loft piece of 
 filvcr, we may difcern the addrefs of our Saviour 
 as a teacher. The ftrongeft reafons for 1 ope are 
 explicitly conveyed to the publicans and finners • 
 but the rebuke to the fcribes and pharifees is ob- 
 lique and concealed. Thus the attention of his 
 audience is roufed, and their affections gained : 
 and by the force of truth, delivered in the inoft 
 engaging manner, the murmurings of the phari- 
 fees on account of our Saviour's keeping comp.iny 
 with finners are made gradually to fubfide. Iri 
 the third parable, which begins at the eleventh 
 verfe, in a narration the moft fimple and natural, 
 all thofe circumftances are united, which, while 
 they enhghten the underftanding, are at the fame 
 time proper for touching the heart. We here 
 difcover this divine teacher fliewing, with equal 
 clearnefs, his enlarged mind, his compaillonate 
 heart, his awful authority, and his nervous elo- 
 quence. I have confined myfelf at prefent to 
 that part of this parable which chiefty prefents to 
 us the mifery of vice, the difpofition of a true 
 penitent, and the mercy of God. The decorum 
 and propriety with which our Saviour conduds 
 his allegories, and their excellence, not only as 
 fources of moral inftrudion, but as patterns of 
 juft and fine writing, are very remarkable. In- 
 ftead of darkening a plain palTaR;e by a tedious 
 critical commentary, 1 choofe in the prefent cafe 
 to juftify the remark I have now made by the 
 following obfervations. 
 
 O It 
 
194 SERMON XII. 
 
 It is the younger of the two fons who is impa- 
 tient of his father's reftraint, and afl<:s for a porti- 
 on of his goods. His youth and his inexperience 
 plead fome excufe for his levity, his impatience, 
 and the rafhnefs of his requeft. The hafte with 
 which this young man, as is obferved in the 13th 
 verfe, colleded all he had, in order to fulfil his 
 deiigns, is extremely agreeable to the fire and 
 impetuofity of youth, and to the violence of eager 
 nnd ungrati£ed palTions, There is alfo a circum- 
 fif.nce taken notice of in the fame verfe, which 
 intereils the reader in his favour, and prepares us 
 in fome meafure to exped his recovery : it is, that 
 he took his jour 71 cy hito a far coimtry. By this it 
 is hinted that, though bent upon vice and rcfolv- 
 ed to indulge himfelf in it, yet he was not loft to 
 fhame, nor to the force of every other virtuous 
 principle. The eye of a father would have 
 proved too fevere a check upon him, and his au- 
 thoi-ity too great a hindrance to his unlawful pur- 
 fuits. Beyond the reach of that eye which would 
 have infpircd him with reverence, he therefore 
 r.efolves to live, and the interpofition of that 
 authority which his nature would not have fuffer- 
 ed him to have contemned, he determines by his 
 diilancc to render impraclicable. 
 
 The intention of our Saviour's difcourfe difco- 
 vers the propriety of his relating briefly the man- 
 ner in wliich this young man fquandered his for- 
 tune. It was not his defign to render him too 
 much an objed of deteflation. He therefore does 
 not paint his vices in thofe ftrong colours, in 
 which we know from other defcriptions that he 
 
 was 
 
SERMON XII. 195 
 
 v/as {o able to draw them. It is lufTicient at pie- 
 fent to denote them by the name of riotous Hving. 
 It is natural to imagine, that extravagance will be 
 the parent of want : but it is alfo natural to fup- 
 pofe, that influenced by fome timely warning, 
 one may be brought to rcfled and to recover him- 
 felf before he is plunged in the very depth of 
 mifery. This fuppofition, the hiflory in the pre- 
 fent cafe for a little feems to favour, and the inti- 
 mating all at once the extremity of the wretched, 
 forlorn and defpicable condition of this thoughtlefs 
 .youth, more ftrongly excites the feeling of fur- 
 prize and fympathy, " from the mixture of which 
 we receive thofe emotions of forrow which the 
 human mind approves of and upon the whole de- 
 lights in. He joined himfelf to a citizen of that 
 couTitry^ but alas ! he was fent into the fields to feed 
 fwine^ and he ivould have Seen glad to have filled his 
 belly with the hiifl-s which the [wine did cat ; a?2d ?io 
 viaii gave unto him. Thefe cxpre^rions convey to 
 every one the ideas of a mean and fervile emplov- 
 ment, and extreme indigence. But they imprefl- 
 ed a Jew ftill more ftrongly. Thefe aniirials 
 ■ w^hofe flefh the Jews were not allowed to eat, and 
 whofe carcafes they were prohibited to touch, 
 this young man, who once had {o different prof- 
 peds, was now obliged to attend as a keeper, and 
 even envied them the food which they devoured. 
 On account of his wretchednefs he is forced to 
 give up the rights of his birth, the prerogative of 
 his former ftation ; and want conquers that anti- 
 pathy which his education, his prejudices, and 
 his religion had fo deeply rivetted in his nature. 
 
 6 a But 
 
196 SERMON XII. 
 
 But afflidlon produced in him fober thoughts. 
 In the 1 7th verfe we are told that he came to hm- 
 J'elf. Vice and immorality is one fpecies, and 
 perhaps the worft fpecies of madnefs. And there- 
 fore in antient languages, wifdom and virtue are 
 often conlidered as fignifying the fame thing 5 fo 
 in like manner are vice and folly, or madnefs. I 
 think in this there is great propriety. For mad- 
 nefs, according to the general acceptation, means 
 fuch an extravagant deviation from the ordinary 
 apprchenfions and actions of men, as difcovers ei- 
 ther the want, or total derangement of fome of the 
 principal faculties which men daily exercife in 
 common life. Now vice is the fame deviation 
 from the eftablifhed conftitution of nature, and 
 the fame violation of its laws as madnefs is of the 
 ordinary pradiife of mankind. 
 
 Every thing in this parable is animated. No 
 tedious defcriptions, nor tirefome relations. The 
 whole is tranfaded, not narrated. The fpeech 
 with which the prodigal refolves to accoft his fa- 
 ther, paints in the moft expreifive language, the 
 wretchednefs of his ftate, and the penitence and 
 humility of his heart. 
 
 In the 20th verfe we read, that ivhen he wasyet 
 a great nt'cry off^ his father faw hi?n, had compafpon^ 
 and ran and fell on his neck ^ and kiffed him. Does 
 not every circumftancedifplaythe character of the 
 tender parent ? The eye which age and afflidion 
 had rendered dim, notwithftanding the fqualid 
 and miferable appearance of the traveller, at a 
 diixance recognizes his own fon. AfFedion warms 
 
 the 
 
SERMON XU. 197 
 
 the father's blood, gives fupplenefs to his joints, 
 and fpeed to his feet. The interruption which the 
 father makes in the 2 2d verfe to the premeditated 
 difcourfe of his fon, reheves from the languor of 
 a repetition, and difcovers in a moving manner, 
 the ftrong aftedions and overflowing fympathy of 
 the father's heart. In the charge given to the 
 fervants, and the reafons by which it is enforced, 
 are ftrongly marked the generofity of the father's 
 difpofition, the naked and miferable condition of 
 the prodigal, the unfeigned joy at his return, and 
 the gracious manner in which he was received. 
 
 Upon the w^hole, this parable appears to me one 
 of the mofl fimple, natural and animated pieces 
 of compofition. But its excellence in thefe ref- 
 peds conftitutes the leaft part of its merit. What 
 may be termed the body of the difcourfe, the lan- 
 guage and the incidents, are elegant and ftriking : 
 and the foul, the fentiments and the moral inflruc- 
 tion which it conveys are fo juft and important, 
 that they entirely correfpond. Let us now confi-^ 
 der it in this latter light. 
 
 I NEED not inform any perfon, that the father 
 is intended to reprefent the Almighty, who is the 
 univerfal parent of heaven and earth, who openeth 
 his hand^ and liberally fat isjieth the want of his crea-* 
 tures : or that in the younger fon, is figured the 
 charader of a finner, who regardlefs of the ties oi 
 duty and gratitude, forfakes the laws of God, and 
 follows the corrupt devices of his own heart. All 
 this is extremely obvious : and yet fcarcely any 
 thing more is necelTary for making us fully com- 
 prehend 
 
igS SERMON XII. 
 
 prehend the moral infiriKfiions that are juftly 
 founded on this parable ; for we are not to fearch 
 for the moral of every circumftance. Such dif- 
 quifitions are generally harmlefs, and may fome- 
 times be uftful ; but they rather tend to withdraw 
 our attention from the chief end of parables. 
 The propereft way of treating them feems to be, 
 to obfer-.e and enforce the general purpofes for 
 which they were fpoken : and to point out thefe, 
 does not require much acutenefs or penetration. 
 They are for the nioft part extremely evident. 
 For inilance, does not every one fee that the por- 
 tion of the parable now under confideration is 
 principally calculated for the purpofes I formerly 
 hinted at, to reprefent to us, i ft the fatal confe- 
 quences of rallmefs, folly and vice ; 2dly the dif- 
 polition and temper of a true penitent ; and laftly, 
 the mercy of God, and his readinefs to receive 
 every returning finner. Keeping thefe three ob- 
 jeds in our view, I Ihall again review the hiftory 
 of this prodigal fon, and apply what may be faid 
 as v,-e go along. 
 
 Uneasy under the reftraint which a father's 
 prefence impofed, tliis young man is anxious to 
 leave his own country, and to fulfil all the defires 
 of his heart, Having obtained from an indulgent 
 j')arent, a fhare of his eftate, he immediately un- 
 dertakes his journey. At this inOant, let us con- 
 template him, young, healthy, unexperienced, ele- 
 vated with the prefent, fearlefs of the future, his 
 eye indicating the rapture of his heart ; his foul 
 pro8;noflicates the higheft joy, and he thinks him- 
 felf the happieft of mortals. What fcenes of plea- 
 
 fure 
 
SERMON XII. 199 
 
 fure does he revolve in his mind ! and he longs 
 for nothing but the day in which he fhall gratify- 
 all his wirfies. But vs'hy fhould he fear the pre- 
 fence of a father ? why fly from the fight of a man, 
 whom he knows to be the objed of reverence ? 
 His heart even now fometimes mifgives him, and 
 virtue offers her facred admonitions. But the 
 the flattery and intoxication of vice pufh him on, 
 and regardlefs of every wife and fober reflexion, 
 he hafiens to his ruin. His money becomes the 
 mean of his deftrudion. His appetites grow eve- 
 ry day more irregular and rapacious, and he pur- 
 chafes every objecft that can gratify them. The 
 light of reafon fometimes rifes in his foul. He 
 extinguifhes it by plunging in vice. Many a time 
 has confcience offered to be his monitor: by the 
 mofl infamous debauchery he checks her admoni- 
 tions, till for a feafon, fhe has relinquifhed her 
 ofEce. Why fhould I recount all the difiionefl 
 deeds, the impure thoughts, and the unworthy 
 pleafuresofa man, who follows the corrupt incli- 
 nations of his heart, and is deferted by God ? A 
 companion of profligates, tyrannized over by his 
 luf^s, avoided by every good man, he muft foon 
 feel the mifery, which, though contrary to his 
 intention, he has fo diredly and afliduoufly earned. 
 He wafted his j'uhftance^ and he began to he hi zvant. 
 How great and how fatal was this change ! Ac- 
 cuflomed to eat before he was hungry, to drink 
 before he was thirty, never to fuffer the call of 
 any appetite to remain unanfwered, how wretch- 
 ed does he now feel himfelf, deprived not only of 
 the fuperfluities, but of the very neceffaries of 
 life ! Where are now the companions of his bet- 
 ter 
 
200 SERMON XII. 
 
 ter days, the partakers of his riotous and unholy 
 pkafures ! Where is the friend in whom he truft- 
 ed, the mifxrefs with whom he fquanderd, or the 
 fervants that va ere obedient to his call ? They are 
 all fled j the blaft of winter is come ; and thofe in- 
 feiiS that only wantoned in the funfhine of fum- 
 mer, are for ever vaniuied. The extremity to 
 which he is reduced, obliges him to fubmit to the 
 meaneft and moil defpicable employment. 
 
 Observe him now, and remark the alteration 
 which fin has produced. What hopes and expec- 
 tations did his look betoken when he left his fa- 
 ther's houfe ? W^hat joy did it exprefs, when he 
 was rioting in wantonnefs ? behold now, what de- 
 jedion, and what defpair ? The niceft art was 
 employed in preparing garments to fet off his 
 youth and beauty to advantage : behold now, 
 rags fcarcely proted him from the cold; the beg- 
 gar and he wear the fame attire. The beggar, 
 who was never in a better ftate, receives with gra- 
 titude every morfcl, and tafies it with pleafure : 
 to this youth, the remembrance of the pad imbit- 
 ters the prefent. Removed from a paradife to a 
 wildernefs, from a falfe paradife to a real wilder- 
 nefs, the fharpeft arrow of afiiidion pierces his 
 breafl, and the tears he fheds difcover a heart 
 overwhelmed with the bittereft grief. I almoft 
 forget his lins, and I compaifionate his fufierings. 
 But we have not feen the half of them. His out- 
 ward mifery ftrikes the eye, but it is only the Sha- 
 dow of his inw^ard anguiih. How fhall I paint to 
 you the remorfe that preys upon his heart, and 
 the agitations that diilrad his foul ! Fortune, thy 
 
 attacks 
 
SERMON XII. 20I 
 
 attacks are fevere, but the attacks of guilt are 
 intolerable. Bodily infirmity may be borne, 
 but a wounded fpi fit ^ who can hear f When the arrows 
 of the A'mighty Jiick fa ft in a man^ then i?ideed is he 
 troubled^ and bowed down mightily. He is feeble^ and 
 fore broken : He roareth by reajon of the difquietnefs 
 of his heart. His heart panteth^ and his flrength 
 faileth him. In what a different light does the 
 prodigal now view his immorality, his debauche- 
 ry, his impiety ? h. thoufand thoughts prefent 
 themfelves : but every one is more excruciating 
 than another. All his vices pafs in review before 
 him. They are like .the ghoftsofthe murdered, 
 and they feem to intreat that the vengeance of 
 heaven may overtake him. Is this pidture too 
 much heightened? I really believe it is not: and 
 could we look with impartial eyes at the havock 
 W'hich fin makes in a human foul, I am perfuad- 
 ed we fliould confefs the juftnefs of this portrait. 
 We enter into a lazar-houfe, and we fee our fel- 
 low creatures oppreffed with fome inveterate and 
 unremitting diiiemper, or fmitten with one uni- 
 verfal fore. Nature Ihrinks at the fight. Oh ! 
 for the eye of angels properly to difcern the dif- 
 eafes of the foul, to perceive the blacknefs of guilt, 
 the horror of an awakened confcience ! Then eve- 
 ry fight that is now fickening would become al- 
 mofl: pleafing in com pari fon of the loathfomenefs 
 of thefe. Vice repeated and perfevered in, is the 
 the only objed which makes angels reiinquidi 
 the charge of mortals, and fly from their fociety 
 as we fly from the place infeded with the 
 plague. 
 
 But 
 
2oa SERMON XII. 
 
 But there is no room left for repentance, no 
 place for pardon ? To all the evils of fin is that 
 lali and moft intolerable one to be added, the 
 defpair of a recovery ? No, my brethern, it is not. 
 This hiitory difcovers to us the difpofition of a 
 true penitent ; and our Saviour, who relates this 
 hiftory, prefents this difpofition at the throne of 
 God, and irrefiilibly pleads for its acceptance. 
 
 The evil of fin lies in the Ibul. Before it is 
 removed therefore the foul muft undergo fome al- 
 teration. It is in vain to imagine, that true peni- 
 tence confifts in external obfervances or coftly 
 offerings. If you could facrifice thoufands oframs^ 
 and make an oblation of ten tkoujand rivers of oil: 
 if you fhould 2y^^ your firft-horn for your tra/ilgref' 
 fions ; the J- uit of your body for thefn of your foul^ 
 flill you might be a ftranger to that temper which 
 gained the prodigal fo welcome a reception. 
 When one receives a wound, we do not apply 
 bandages and ointments to his garments, but to 
 the part affeded. The difeafes of the foul in like 
 manner are not cured by extrinfic and foreign ap- 
 plications, but by fomething that is inward and 
 congenial. Now repentance is that medicine 
 which, by the bleffmg of God and the operations 
 of his fpirit, curcth the foul of fin ; and it confifts 
 in a ferious fenfe of our tranfgrefilons, a deep hu- 
 mility on account of tiiem, a fincere contrition of 
 heart, accompanied Vv'ith an ingenious confelfion, 
 and an unfiiaken refolution of amendment. 
 
 All thefe particulars are either exprefi!ed or 
 implied in the temper of the returning prodigal. 
 
 / will 
 
SERMON XII. 205 
 
 I ivi I I fay to my father-. Father^ I have finned againft 
 heaven and before thee^ and am no more worthy to he 
 called thy f on j make me as one of thy hired fervants. 
 He hns fach a flrong fenfe of his paft foily, that 
 he acknowledges he has forfeited the rights of his 
 birth. He afks not the privilege of a fon, but 
 the protection of a fervant. His whole fpeech 
 difcovers the genuinenefs of his forrow, and the 
 deepnefs of his contrition j far from endeavouring 
 to cover or palliate his tranfgrefiions, he confefTes 
 them in the moft open and affecfling manner. 
 The exprejiion of his refolution of amendment is 
 the only thing which feeras here to be wanting; 
 but this very circumftance gives us a new occalion 
 to obferve the wonderful propriety and inimitable 
 beauty of our Saviour's difcourfes. The prodi:^al 
 had been engaged in fuch fcenes of wickednefs 
 that the refiedion upon them quite overvv-helmed 
 him. He fcarcely durft promife upon his own 
 treacherous heart. And having fo far and fo 
 caufelefsly offended, he blufhes to declare his re- 
 folution of amendment. He leaves it to his look, 
 his manner, the whole fpirit of his difcourfe, to 
 fpeak the fecret but firm purpofe of his foul. Is 
 not this a condud at once the moft engaging, be- 
 coming, and noble } and does not the repreienta- 
 tion of it difcover to us one of thofe delicate 
 ftrokes of defcription which diftinguifh a mafter .? 
 
 I MIGHT expatiate upon each of the particulars 
 implied in repentance, fhew their connedion, and 
 explain how one one of thefe naturally leads to 
 another, in the order I have mentioned them. 
 Without a fcnfe of fin, it is plain, we cannot feel 
 
 the 
 
204 SERMON XII. 
 
 the firft emotions of penitence. But a fenfe of 
 iin ferioufly entertained, is a natural fource of 
 humility -, for when we confider our corruptions 
 and vices, we cannot efteem ourfelves, but are 
 afliamed and abafhed on account of them. In this 
 ftate, our heart, formed to difcern and and afpire 
 after what is excellent, is affeded with a feeling 
 of its own defeds. Overwhelmed with grief, we 
 find no eafe but in an honeft confeffion j and 
 from this very ad we are formed to derive fome 
 confolation. Refolution of amendment is the na- 
 tural confequence of thefe previous fteps ; and 
 indeed the only courfe which remains for us to 
 take. Your time will not permit me to infifl 
 more fully upon thefe particulars. Let me only 
 produce a few texts of fcripture, to fliow that the 
 difpofition now defcribed is the only acceptable 
 facrifice to God, and indifpenfably neceiTary in 
 chriftians. It was a prevailing error among the 
 Ifraelites, that God would be pleafed with a vari- 
 ety of oblations ; their prophets are careful to cor- 
 red this error, and to lead them to juft fentiments 
 upon this fubjed, Hear^ my people, and I will 
 Jpeak J Ifrael^ and I will teftijy againft thee. I 
 am God., even thy God. I will not reprove thee for 
 thy fdcrificcs or thy hiirjit-offerings. to have been 
 continually before me. I will take no hillock out of 
 thy hoife^ nor he-goat out of thy folds. For every 
 heaft of the for eft is mine., and the cattle upon a 
 thou [and hills, I know all the fowls of the mou?itains^ 
 and the wild heafs of the feld are ynine. If I were 
 hungry., I would not tell thee ; for the world is mine., 
 md the fullnefs thereof Will I eat the fiefh of 
 
 hullsy 
 
SERMON XII. 205 
 
 hulls ^ or drink the blood of goats ^ ^ To the fame 
 purpofe, David in another place fays, Thou deji^ 
 reft 7iot facrifiCe^ elfe would I give it : Thou delight ^ 
 eft not in burnt-offering \ and immediately after 
 declares, agreeable to our dodrine, The facrijices 
 of God are a broken fpirit j a broke?! and a contrite 
 hearty God, thou wiit not defpife ^. He that con-- 
 feffeth his fins, and forfaketh them, faith the wife 
 man, the fame f hall find mercy ; but he that cover eth 
 his fins, fhall not profper^. And in the new tef- 
 tament, deftrudion is denounced againft all who 
 do not repent. Except ye repent, ye f hall all likeivife 
 perifh ". In the parable of the pharifee and publi- 
 can ^, the latter, who was afhamed on account of 
 his fins, who flood at a diftance, and beat upon 
 his breaft, and faid, God be merciful to me afinner: 
 went down to his houfe fuftifed, rather than the 
 other. 
 
 But in the third place : In this parable is re- 
 prefented to us the mercy of God, and his readi- 
 nefs to receive every returning finner. This is 
 the perfedion of the divine nature, in which, as 
 offending creatures, we are principally interefted. 
 By his goodnefs he is the objed of the love and 
 veneration of angels. From its emanations they 
 receive their felicity, and, dwelling at the foun- 
 tain of joy, they know no forrow. But goodnefs 
 itfelf, ftrid impartial goodnefs, is the objed of 
 terror to a weak imperfed creature like man, con- 
 
 psalmI. 7 — 14. ^ PSALM li. 16, 17. 
 
 fcious 
 
 PROV. XXVIU. 13, ^LUKEXiii. 3. ^ LUKE X. 
 
aoS S E R M O' N XIL 
 
 fclous of his fins, and repeated offences. Good- 
 nels engages the being that is pofTeffed of it, to be 
 beneficent, to beftow the means of happinefs, but 
 not to reftore them if they have been mifapphed 
 or fquandered. When I furvey the juftice of the 
 Divinity, I tremble in his prefence ; and were I 
 ignorant of every other moral perfedion of his 
 nature, I fhould pray to be reduced to nothing. 
 When I view his goodnefs, I admire and adore it j 
 but I envy the angels who never fell, and who 
 are the objects of its complacence. But when I 
 fee him cloathed in his mercy, I glory in my lot 
 as a man, and raife my eyes to immortality. Now 
 it is this attribute which is reprefented to us in 
 this parable. When the prodigal had wafted all, 
 when he was ruined and undone, and was ob- 
 liged to return to that father whom he had difre- 
 garded and difhonoured ; we read, while he was 
 yet a great way off, he had compaffion, and ran and 
 fell on his neck, and kiffed him. Does not this 
 teach us that, like as a father pitieth his children, fo 
 the hord pitieth every repenting finner. Even 
 under the fe verity of the old difpenfation, the 
 Omnipotent had declared himfelf the Lord, the 
 Lord God, merciful a?id gracious, long-Juffering and 
 flow to anger, forgiving iniquity, tranfgrefpon, and 
 Jin. With him, it was at that period declared, 
 tiiere was mercy, that he might he feared, and plen^ 
 icons redemption \ a?id lie remembered the frame of 
 mortals, tiiat they were hut dufl. But ftill clearer 
 declarations of the mercy and placability of God 
 are afforded to us under the new difpenfation, in 
 which Chrift himfelf is the law-giver. The 
 heavenly voice at his birth proclaimed, Peace on 
 
 earthy 
 
S E R iM O N XII. 207 
 
 earthy and good-will to 7r,en : as if all that had yet 
 been known, was only to be coinpared to fome 
 fcattered rays which preceded the rifing of the fun. 
 One great part of our Saviour's employment, du- 
 ring the whole of his miniftry, was to difplay the 
 divinity in his mildeft afped, and by this means, 
 to heal the broken in hearty and to hind up the wound- 
 ed in fpirit. And finally, this Saviour, by an un- 
 fpotted obedience, and a meritorious death, made 
 mercy and truth to meet together^ righteoufnefs a?id 
 peace to h'fs each other. 
 
 Having now confidered the fatal confequences 
 of vice, the difpolition of a true penitent, and 
 the exuberant mercy of God ; let us in a few fen- 
 tences apply what has been faid. 
 
 Is vice the dired road to mifcry and ruin ? Does 
 not daily experience convince us that it is? While 
 the common accidents of life flay their thoufands, 
 this evil alone killcth her ten thoufands. Let this 
 teach us to confider it as our grcateft enemy. If 
 there were a general reformation in a country, I 
 could fcarcely number up the train of difeafes, 
 misfortunes, and affli(fiions which would difappear 
 at once by its means : for trace our calamities to 
 the fource, and it Vvill be found that vice is the 
 chief one. Let the wicked man for fake his ways, 
 and the unr/ghteous ?nan his thoughts, and let all 
 who are not yet initiated in fin, beware of it, for 
 verily it bringeth a fruire to his fouL 
 
 Secondly, Since the difpofitionof a true pe- 
 nitence is fo pleafing in the fight of God, what 
 
 reafon 
 
2o8 SERMON XIL 
 
 reafon has every one of us, to endeavour to 
 obtain it ! The ALTiighty fhews the value he 
 has for a human foul, by preferring its renew- 
 al to every other facrifice. There is a ftrange 
 propenfity in corrupt man, to endeavour to 
 pleafe God in fome different manner ; but 
 this is the only way that is acceptable. To 
 what purpofe is the inultitude of your fahhaths^ 
 your new-moons^ mid your chlations F IVafh ye^ 
 make ye clean^ put away the evil of your doings^ 
 ceafe to do evil, learn to do well. What occafion 
 we all have for this, let our lives and our 
 manners teftify. Does that piety, integrity or 
 purity prevail among us, which become the 
 gofpel ? Is that love to God, and regard to 
 his laws, which the gofpel enjoins, the ruling 
 principle of our lives ? Would to God it were ! 
 after all, there fliould remain fufficient defe^fts to 
 lament. But as it is otherwife, how deep ought 
 our humiliation to be 1 Let us acknowledge our 
 tranfgreffions, and be diligent to fearch out the 
 plague of our own hearts, and turn unto God, 
 who will have mercy j and unto our God^ who will 
 ahundantly pardon. 
 
 Lastly, this mercy of God which is 
 difplayed in the fcriptures, ought to be the 
 objed of our praife and adoration. We are 
 enabled to view God, and yet we are not 
 con fumed. Blefs the Lord, thefi, my foul, 
 and all that is within me, hlejs his holy name ; 
 hlefs the Lord, O my fouf and forget not all 
 his benefits ; who forgivcth all thine iniquities. 
 
 He 
 
SERMON XII. 203 
 
 He will ?iot always chide^ 72either will he keep 
 his anger for ever : he hath not dealt with us 
 after our Jins^ ?ior rewarded us according to 
 our iniquities ; for as the heaven is high above 
 the earthy fo great is his mercy toward them that 
 fear him : as far as the ea/i is from the weft^ fo far 
 hath he removed our tranfgreffions from us, Blef 
 fh? Lford^ my foul. 
 
 h E R- 
 
SERMON XIII. 
 
 Matthew xi. 29. 
 
 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am, 
 meek and lowly in heart, and ye Jhall find reft unto 
 your fouls. 
 
 In the primitive ages of chriftlanity, there could 
 be no inducement for any one to alTume the cha- 
 rader of a chriftian, but his being perfuaded of 
 the truth of the gofpel, and of its efficacy to pro- 
 cure falvation to thofe who obeyed its precepts. 
 Men at that time very rarely engaged in any of 
 the external exercifes of religion, but from a fenfe 
 of the obligation they lay under to purity and in- 
 tegrity, the ultimate ends of all religion. But 
 now the cafe feems to be much altered for the 
 worfe. While the pious frequent religious affem- 
 blies out of devotion, regard the name of chriftian 
 as the moft honourable appellation, and confefs 
 that their profelfion of faith in Jefus lays them 
 under the llrongeft obligation to obey his laws ; a 
 very confiderable number affemble with thefe 
 from different motives, confider the name of chrif- 
 tian only as a proper badge in a chriftian land, 
 
 P 2 and 
 
11% SERMON Xin. 
 
 and profefs themfelves believers only through 
 cuftom, or to obtain fome temporal advantages 
 with v\'hich the profeffion is attended, or to avoid 
 fome inconveniences which renouncing it altoge- 
 ther might occaiipn. Though they join in the 
 forms of religion, they never confider this as lay- 
 ing tliem under an obligation to comply with the 
 precepts of it, or feem to apprehend that they are 
 guilty of hypocrify, or what the fcripture calls a 
 rr.ocking of God, for the pretence which they 
 make of honouring him outwardly, when they 
 feel no reverence for his perfedions, and no regard 
 for his will. 
 
 There is however one inftitution of religion, 
 a participation in which is ftill confidered, in this 
 country at leafl:, as a folemn avowal of the obliga- 
 tion to obferve the laws of chriftianity ; an inftitu- 
 tion from which the abandoned generally abftain, 
 and in which, while he rafhiy engages, the heart 
 of the hypocrite will fcarcely fail to fmite him. 
 As you therefore of this congregation have it fo 
 nearly in view% to celebrate this facred inftitution 
 of the Lord's fupper, the participation in which is 
 coniidered as an acknowledgment that we are 
 bound to receive the yoke of Chrift, I have made 
 choice of the words now read, as a proper fpun-r 
 dation for the prefent difcourfe, 
 
 In the 27th verfe of this chapter, our Saviour 
 had aftTerttd his divine commiiiion, his authority 
 and power, and his intimate knowledge of his 
 father, and near relation to him. All things are 
 delivered to me of my father : and no nian hicmieih 
 
 ■ ' the 
 
SERMON XIII. 213 
 
 the fon hut the father^ Jiehher knoweth any man the 
 father^ fave the Jon^ and he to ivhomfoever the fon 
 will reveal hi?)}. Then ht^ who fci well knew how 
 to unite the charaders of juii dignity, and win- 
 ning condefcenfion, immediately iubjoins one oF 
 the moft afFedionate invitations, which he ever 
 addrefTed to mankind. Of this my text is a part. 
 Come unto me^ all ye that labour and are heavy laden, 
 and I will give you re fi : Take lyy yoke iihon you, and 
 learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and 
 ye fhall find reft unto your fouls. 
 
 The yoke of Chriftis a rnetaphor to fignifyhis 
 laws and commandments ; and the t:'.king of this 
 yoke upon us denotes a fabmiffion to thefe. To 
 learn of Chrift, comprehends a general attention 
 to the dodrines he teaches, as Well as to the ore- 
 eepts he enjoins, and has alfo a reference to the 
 example he exhibits. The two following claufes. 
 For I am ?neek and lowly in heart, andyi^ jhall find 
 reft to your fouls, may be eonddered as motives to 
 engage our compliance with the exhortation in the 
 precedmg part of the verfe. Our Saviour takes 
 notice of his being meek and lowly in heart, both 
 for the tendency which thefe difnofitions would 
 have to conciliate affedion and confidence, and 
 for diftinguifhing him from the Jewifh dodors, 
 who afFeded a difgufting pride and fuperiority 5 
 qualities which, to fay the truth, human learning, 
 when it is not cOnduded with a fpirit offober. 
 enquiry, and made fubfervicnt to the purpofes of 
 virtue and religion, is apt to infpire. By the re>^ 
 of the foul, is meant that flatc of quiet compofure 
 and ferenity, which ought to be the chief purfuit 
 
 of 
 
214 S fe R M O N XIII. 
 
 of a wife man : and this exprelTion muft have 
 been eafily underftood by thofe who heard our 
 Saviour, efpecially as it had been ufed in a {imilar 
 manner by one of their prophets. Thus faith the 
 Lord^ Stand ye in the ivajs, ajtdjee^ and a/kfor the 
 old paths ^ ivhere is the good waj\ and walk therein, 
 mid ye fnall find reft to your fouls ^. 
 
 ■ In profecuting this fubjetft, after faying a few 
 things upon the nature and extent of the chriftian 
 law, which is here called the yoke of Chrift, I 
 propofe to lay before you the obligations we are 
 tinder to fubmit to it, and confirm the fenfe of 
 thefe obligations by feveral arguments, efpecially 
 thofe fuggefled in the text. "We fliall be the beli 
 able to difcover the nature of the chriftian law, 
 by attending to the defign for which it was pub- 
 lifhed. Now it was puliibed with this view, to 
 recover the fallen race of mankind, and to reftore 
 them to the unage of God, by reiflifying their ir- 
 regular appetites, by cultivating in their minds 
 every difpofition that is virtuous and praife- wor- 
 thy. The excellence of this law therefore confifls 
 in its fitnefs to anfwer thefe ends. As Chrift 
 came to deflroy the kingdom of Satan, and to 
 purify to himfelf a peculiar people zealous of good 
 works ^, his rules and precepts are all calculated 
 for redraining vice, and promoting holinefs ; or, 
 to ufe the words of an apoftle, to teach us^ that 
 denying ungodlinefs^ and worldly iufs, we fhould 
 live foherly^ righiecifly^ andgodly^. 
 
 ^ jekEmiaii vi. i6. " TiT.ii. 14. tit. ii. 12. 
 
 This 
 
SERMON Xlli. 215 
 
 ^His law, which is pure, as the nature of God, 
 the fountain whence it proceeded, is as extend ve 
 as the principles of oitr nature would allow, or as 
 was neceffary to fit us for a more perfe6l and com- 
 prehenfive ftate, to which the prefent is prepara- 
 tory. Thus it comprehends all the duties we owe 
 to God, every branch of piety, as love, gratitude^ 
 reverence, fear ; all the virtues of humanity, juf- 
 tice, charity,' meeknefs, forbearance, with a va- 
 riety of other duties that arife from different fitua- 
 tions ^nd circumftances in life ; the virtues of 
 temperance, fobriety and chaftity, to which we 
 are fo powerfully excited, by being reprefented as 
 temp/es of the living God^^ as habitations of God 
 through th^ Spirit^'. 
 
 The law of the Lord jefus extends not to our 
 adions only, but it engages thofe who comply 
 with it to regulate their words, and to preferve pu- 
 rity in their moft facred and retired thoughts. 
 Like a medicine, which not only operates upon 
 the larger organs, but penetrates the nerves, and 
 affeds the fineft fibres, the chriftian law extends 
 to the niceft movements of the foul, and is in- 
 tended to influence every principle by which the 
 foul can be aduated. 
 
 I PROCEED now to lay before you fome of the 
 (Obligations you are under to fubmit to the law of 
 the gofpel, or to take upon you the yoke of 
 Chrift. May I fpeak in the fimplicity of the 
 
 ^ 2 COR. vi. 16, ^' EPH. ii. 22. 
 
 gofpel, 
 
£i6 SERMON XliL 
 
 gofpel, and may the Spirit of Chrifl aid me iil 
 declaring your duty, in exciting you to comply 
 with it ! 
 
 In the firft place then, you are under the 
 ftrideft obligation to fubmit to the law, or yoke 
 of Chrift, becaufe its reafonablenefs approves it- 
 fclf to your own minds. 
 
 When God formed man at firft, he did not 
 leave him to ad in any manner that humcur or 
 paiiion might prompt him, biit conftituted him fo, 
 that when he (hould difcern any thing to be rea- 
 fonable or proper to be done, even fuppofing he 
 fliould be willing to forego the advantages with 
 which the doing it might be attended, or to fuf- 
 fer the evils in which the omitting it might in-- 
 volve him, yet this fliould not fatisfy him, but a 
 departure from his duty fhould moreover be at- 
 tended with a prefent fenfe of guilt, or ill-deferv- 
 ing, independent of the confequences. When 
 any fcheme of religion is laid before a man, which 
 he acknowledges to be reafonable, and with which 
 notwithftanding he refufes to comply, he no Ion-* 
 ger ufes the liberty of a man, but is domineered 
 over by fome appetite, or paflion, or habit of fub- 
 jedion for which his own heart condemns him. 
 Suppofe therefore, that there were nothing more 
 in chnftianity, but a limple detail of the different 
 branches of our duty, we fhould be under the 
 ftrideft obligation, from the very conftitution of 
 our nature, to comply with it \ and our refufing 
 to comply would upon refledion have filled us 
 with uneafinefs. Man is not left, like the brutes^ 
 
 to 
 
SERMON XIII. 317 
 
 to follow the prefent ftrongefl impulfe of his 
 mind, but has another fuperior faculty, whieh 
 claims the privilege of a lawful mailer, and is en- 
 titled to have its commands obeyed. The quef- 
 tion with man ought not to be, which is the 
 ftrongeft propenfion, but which is the moil rea- 
 fonable. In this licentious age, it is neceffary to 
 infift upon this obligation, becaufe many fatisfy 
 themfelves in their impiety and irregularities by 
 faying, that they are under no formal obligation 
 to comply with the laws of religion, having done 
 nothing to ratify the engagements into which 
 others may have entered on their account. I am 
 fure this is not the language of a man who ufes 
 his reafonable faculties. Your obligation to reli- 
 gion does not arife from the vow of your parents, 
 or others, though it may be flrenG^thened by that 
 vow, but from the nature which God has given 
 you. Before you difown this obligation then, re- 
 nounce your nature. Acknowledge at once, that 
 the boafted powers of reafon and of confcience, 
 you undervalue and contemn. Forfake the focie- 
 tyofmen. You claim the privilege of indulging 
 every appetite and paifion, without reftraint : 
 Herd with the beafts of the field : in fimilar plea- 
 fure you fpend your days. Degraded man ! O 
 that I could fufficiently difcover you to every eye 
 as. a monument of folly and of vice, tliat you 
 might be pointed at by others, and that the con- 
 tagion of your example might not fpread. No! 
 ratlier like Nebuchadnezzar may your underfland- 
 ing return to you, and with him, may you learn 
 to praife and honour and extol die King of hea- 
 ven and earth, who hath not left you at liberty 
 
 to 
 
US SERMON XI 11. 
 
 to rejed his holy law without felf-condemna- 
 tion. 
 
 Thus the very declaration of the moral duties 
 of the gofpel to thofe who muft, and do confefs 
 that they are reafonable, lays them under the 
 iirongeft obligation to pradife them. The eye is 
 not more formed to difcern a difference between 
 white and black, or the tafte to diftinguifli 
 between fweet and bitter, than the mind is to 
 perceive the diftindion between good and evil : 
 nor is it more ahfurd, to call black white, or bit- 
 ter fweet, than it is unnatural to rejed the good 
 and choofe the eviL 
 
 But the obligation of chriftians to take upon 
 them the yoke of Chrift, does not arife merely 
 from its reafonablenefs. This obhgation is enfor- 
 ced by the higheft authority, no lefs than that of 
 God himfelf; for to the chriftian religion God 
 hath given the ftrongeft atteftations, having ap- 
 peared at various times, and in divers manners, 
 to eftablifh the law, the prophets, and the gofpel ; 
 fo that refufing to receive them is refufing to ac^ 
 knowledge the authority of God. 
 
 The different appearances of the Almighty 
 are recorded for our inftrudion ; and iince they 
 are fufficiently attefled, they ought to produce a 
 iimilar effcd upon us, to that which they would 
 iiave done, had we been witneffes of them. When 
 God defcended upon Mount Sinai in thunder and 
 lightning, and the voice of the trumpet waxed ex- 
 
 ceedin^lj 
 
SERMON XIII. 219 
 
 ceedingly lGud^\ it was to deliver that moral law, 
 which Chrifl came not to deftroy, but to confirm ; 
 and when we hear it as delivered by the Almighty, 
 do we not tremble at his word, and reverence his 
 authority ? LjCt all nations bmso before him^ and let 
 all people ferve him. The fame eternal Being who 
 appears thro' the old tefiament as the God of ma- 
 jeliy and glory, appears alfo, tho' in a different 
 manner, and adds his fandion to the new. He 
 who under the former difpenfations, had difco- 
 vered him.felf in his terrors, as an emblem of the 
 law, condefcends under the gofpel, to fhew him- 
 fclf lefs in the light of majefly than of love, as an 
 emblem of the mildnefs of this latter difpenfa- 
 tion. His Spirit defcended on his Son like a 
 dove, and he declared. This is wy beloved Son -^ 
 hear ye him ^. Here no fire is called from hea- 
 ven to deftroy a rebellious race, no immediate 
 judgment is inflided for difhonouring, not the 
 fervant, but the Son : on the contrary, the moft 
 marvellous works of beneficence and mercy, 
 which required the immediate interpofition of hea- 
 ven, are performed. And are not thefe {o many 
 proofs, that the religion which we profefs, comes 
 recommended by the divine authority? The works 
 that I do^ faith our Saviour, bear witnefs of me^ 
 that the Father hath fent me ^<, 
 
 To the flill, fmall voice of God therefore, 
 which fpeaks within our minds, and enjoins obe- 
 dience to the laws of piety, juftice, and charity, 
 
 V 
 
 EXOO.xix. 19. ''' MATT, Xvii. C. "JOHN V. 36. 
 
 there 
 
/ 
 
 tzo SERMON XIII. 
 
 there is fuperadded the clear declaration of the 
 fame God in the fcriptures, enjoining us to honour 
 and obey the Son^ as we ought to honour and 
 obey the Father. Do I fpeak to an affembly of 
 men, who defpife, and daringly rejed this autho- 
 rity ? Will you join with the impious king who 
 hardened his heart, and faid, Who is the Lord^ 
 that IJhoidd obey his voice f I know not the Lord, 
 neither will I hearken to him^. Surely not, my 
 brethren: you reverence the authority of God. 
 Eemember then that it is the fon of God, by the 
 authority of his Father, who fays. Take my yoki 
 upon you y and learn of me. 
 
 But I proceed to confider our obligaitions to 
 fubmit to the yoke of Chrift, arifmg either from 
 explicit^ or implied acknowledgments: and on 
 this fubjed, there are feveral things which I will 
 throw together as briefly as polTible. When you 
 were baptized, did not your parents, or fome 
 others, become bound to train you up in the re- 
 ligion of Chrift, and to inftrudt you in its princi- 
 ples ? and have you not always conlidered this as 
 a virtual engagement in your name ? I know you 
 never renounced it formally ; but did you ever re- 
 ally endeavour fo much as to fatisfy your own 
 minds for your negled of it ? Or when you delibe- 
 rately refled on this engagement, and your depar- 
 tures from it, do you not feel a fecret convidion 
 informing you that you are blameable ? What is 
 tlie language of your religious profelfiou, of your 
 
 ^ EXOD. v. 2 
 
 retaining 
 
SERMON XIII. 22r 
 
 retaining the name of chriftians, of your' claim- 
 ing the outward privileges belonging to fuch ? 
 Every time that you addrefs God, either in pub- 
 lic, or in private, is it not a confelfion that you 
 ought to obey his precepts ? If you ever com- 
 memorated the death of Chrift, or if you now 
 propofe to do it, is not this a folemn ratification 
 of your baptifmal vows? If you call him Lord, 
 Lord, and yet do not the things which he pre- 
 fcribes, muft you not own that your behaviour 
 is altogether unworthy and incondftent ? For can 
 any condud be more inconfiftent or contradidory, 
 than to call him mafter, and yet refufe his au- 
 thority ? May he not juftly fay to you, If I be 
 a 7nafier^ inhere is my jear ^ and if I he a father^ 
 •where is 7ny honour ^ d Whenever you join there- 
 fore in any ad of religion, and yet refufe obedi- 
 ence to the laws of the gofpel, you acknowledge 
 thejuftnefs of an authority, to which, notwith- 
 ftanding, you refufe to fubtnit ; a condud which 
 your own hearts can certainly never approve of. 
 
 Having thus laid before you fome of the obli- 
 gations which we are under to receive the yoke of 
 Chrift, arifing from our nature and conftitution, 
 from the regard due to the authority of God, and 
 from our own explicit or implied engagements, 
 let me endeavour to confirm the fenfe of thefe 
 obligations by feveral motives ; and this may be 
 confidered as a continuation in fome meafure of 
 my former fubjed ; for to a reafonable creature, 
 
 ^ MAL. i, 6. 
 
 a juft 
 
^^^ S E R M O N XIII. 
 
 a juft motive is a proper ground for adion, and 
 lays him under an obligation to ad accordingly. 
 
 In the firft place, my brethern, the fervice to 
 which you are bound, by fubmitting to this yoke, 
 is both reafonable and eafy. As chrifiians, we 
 are not loaded with the yoke of rites, ceremonies, 
 and external obfervances, which was fo heavy up-^ 
 on the Jews, that neither thofe in the days of our 
 Saviour, nor their fathers were able to bear it ^. 
 The dominion of Chrifl, tends to free us from the 
 flavery of iin, from the power of Satan, from the 
 tyrannic fway of our own lufts, and to make us 
 obey the beft principles of our nature, and yield to 
 their didates. The religion of the Lord Jefus is 
 therefore called the perfeB law of liberty ^\ By 
 engaging in his fervice, we are faid to be delivered 
 from the bondage of corruption^ into the glorious li- 
 berty of the fons of God ^ : and chrifiians are ex- 
 horted iofand fafi in the liberty wherewith Ckriji 
 hath made them free"^ . Our Saviour alfo declares 
 immediately after the text, that his yoke is eafy, 
 and his burden light. The objedion which arifes 
 to this from the weaknefs and depravity of our 
 natures, I fliail take occafion to obviate after- 
 wards. 
 
 At prefent, I proceed to perfuade you to com- 
 ply with the advice in the text, from a review of 
 the charader of that Matter, into whofe fervice 
 
 ^ACTSXV. lO. ^' JAMES i. 25. '^ ROM. viii. 2 I. 
 ^^ GAL. V. I. 
 
 you 
 
SERMON XIII. 223 
 
 you are here called. I fhall chiefly confine myfelf 
 to the conli deration of thofe circumftances in hjs 
 charader, which are marked in the text. We are 
 there told, that he is meek and l(rjc^y in heart ; and 
 how perfeOly his adio s correfpond to this cha- 
 rader, let his whole life teftify. Can my foul 
 ever forget his condefcenfion to his difciples, his 
 forbearance to his enemies, his patience under his 
 afflidions. and the numberlefs good offices, by 
 which he alleviated or removed the miferies of 
 men } To difplay him fully in this charader, need 
 I bring to your remembrance, that night in which 
 he roje from f upper ^ and having laid ajide his gar^ 
 mejits^ girded himfclf ivith a towel., and wafhed h's 
 difciples feet ^ ? Need I recall to your minds the 
 companionate manner in which he fpoke to the 
 daughters of Jerufalem, and delired them to re- 
 ferve their tears for their own miferies, when they 
 were pouring them out for his ? What (inner did 
 this meek and merciful Mafter ever rejed:, if he 
 came with a penitent heart? It was foretold to be 
 his chara^ier, and he ftill retains it, that he will 
 not break the briiifed reed^ nor quench the fmoaking 
 jftax^. How ftriking, and how beautiful is the 
 prediction concerning him, and how fully did he 
 accom plifh it ! He fhall feed his Jiock like a fhepherd^ 
 he fliall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry 
 them in his hofom, and gently lead thofe that are 
 with young ^. When you confider your weak- 
 neffes, your irrefolution, your follies, and your 
 
 JOHN xiii. 4. 5, ^isA.xlii. 3. matt. xii. 20. 
 ^ ISA. xl. 2. 
 
 vices 
 
-24 SERMON XIII. 
 
 vices, are you not fenfible that it would be im* 
 j)oHible for you ever to pleafe an auftere mafter ? 
 or could any other be a fit Lord for you but he 
 who has a fellow-feeling of your infirmities ^ ^ 
 Your meek and lowly Mafier impofes upon you 
 no tafks which he himfelf did not fubmit to. He 
 is not like the pharifaical doctors who y^/<^,^;2^ 
 did ?iot^ who bound heavy burdens^ and grievous to 
 he born^ and laid them on other mensjkoidders^ but 
 would not touch them with one of their fingers "^ . In 
 the fevereft inftances of our duty, he left us an 
 example, that we fhould follow his fteps. In 
 what fchool can we learn, where the inftrudor 
 would be fo ready to bear our frowardnefs, to 
 pardon our negleds, and forgive our faults? If 
 you refufe this Saviour, where will you find one 
 like him ? for there is no encouragement that he 
 refufes, no affiftance that he denies. 
 
 This leads me to confider, as another motive 
 to induce you to take his yoke upon you, which 
 will likewife obviate every objedion from the de- 
 pravity of our nature, the gracious aids of his holy 
 Spirit, which he will vouchfafe to all who fincere- 
 ly afk them, and rely upon them. Our Saviour 
 did not leave this world, till he had promifed that 
 the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghoft, Ihould 
 come to teach and afilft his followers. Whatever 
 clifiiculties therefore we may meet with in our 
 chriftian courfe, by the aid of the divine Spirit we 
 may be rendered fuperior to them. If the combat 
 
 ^HEB.iv.15. "^MATT. xxiii. 3, 4. 
 
 m 
 
SERMON Xril. 225 
 
 in which we engage, in order to fiibdue our irre- 
 gular appetites, be fevere, from the Spirit we may 
 derive that ilrength which Ihali render us vidori- 
 ons. Do we labour under any difeafe wiiatever 
 of the mind? By the help of that Phyfician who 
 formed the heart, and knows its maladies, furely 
 it may be cured. And, chriftians, though w^ 
 wreftlc not again fi Jlejh and bloody but again ft prin^ 
 cipalities and powers^ againft the rulers of the dark- 
 nefs of this worlds and again fi fpiri'ual iin'-kednefs 
 i?i high places ", yet by his Spirit who conquered 
 the powers of darkncfs, and who overcame the 
 world, all thefe may be refifted by us; and with 
 fuch divine afliftance, his yoke may be termed an 
 eaj) one, and his burden //g/'J. 
 
 Finally, my brethren, attend to the promife 
 that is here made to thofe who obey this exhorta- 
 tion. Learn of mc^ for I am ?neek and lowly ^'^ iieart^ 
 and jefhall find re fi to your fouls. What is there 
 in this world that is fo defirable, as a quiet, a 
 contented, and a rengned fpirit ? Tell me who is 
 the happy man; he who arrives at the top of his 
 ambition, and tramples upon his foes, but is do- 
 mineered over by his lufts ? he who wallows in 
 luxury by means of his ill-acquired riches, but 
 has no government over himfelf; or he who in 
 this tranfient ftate, feels that internal fatisfadion 
 which the world cannot give, nor take away ? 
 Ye foft gales of peace, which proceed from the 
 Holy Gholl, and are kept up only by an unremit-^ 
 
 " EPH. vi. 12. 
 
 CI ting 
 
226 SERMON XUI. 
 
 ting virtue, be you my choice, and do you ftill 
 refrefh my foul. But where is that ferenity and 
 fehcity to be found, except by fubmitting to the 
 yoke of Chrifl ? At the creation of man, rehgion 
 was his companion, his perpetual attendant ; and 
 no care ruffled his brow, nor forrow difquieted 
 his breaft j his eye beheld the lovely form, and 
 his heart never ftrayed from her laws. But when 
 he fell, his underftanuing was darkened, he loft 
 fight of his true good, and purfued an imaginary 
 happinefs in a thoufand delufivc Ihapes. The 
 experience however of every age has Sufficiently 
 proved that even the imperfed Ihare of happinefs 
 which we are now capable of attaining, is no 
 where to be found disjoined from religion, -^^z/- 
 dorri s zvqys are ways of pleafantiiejs^ and all her 
 paths are peace j and befides that natural peace 
 which a pious conducft is immediately calculated to 
 produce, the chriftian has moreover that Superna- 
 tural quiet and confolation to depend upon, which 
 is promifed by his Mafter, for compofing and fo- 
 lacing his fpirit. Peace I leave with you: vy peace 
 I ghe unto you : not as the world giveth^ give I unto 
 you. Let not your heart be troubled^ neither let it 
 he afraid^, 
 
 ^ JOHN xiv. 27. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XIV. 
 
 Psalm iv, 4. laft part of the verfe. 
 
 Commune with jour own heart upon your hed^ and 
 
 heJiilL 
 
 Ti 
 
 HAT the royal prophet, by thefe words, 
 enjoins retirement from the hurry and the tumults 
 of human hfe, in order to give ourfelves time 
 dehberately to confider the wifdom, the jufiice, 
 and the goodnefs of the divine adminiftration, 
 and feriouTly to tefled upon our own adions, and 
 the motives of them, will, I imagine, be readily 
 admitted by every hearer. Conmnme with your ow?i 
 heart upon your hed^ and he ft ill. At lei fu re, unin- 
 fluenced by the fpecious opinions, unbiased by 
 the corrupt practices of others, deaf to the en- 
 fnaring voice of pleafure, and only open to the 
 fober didates of reafon, and the awful commands 
 of confcience, frequently meditate upon the per- 
 fedions of God, and learn to reverence the wnys 
 of his providence. Often before-hand confider 
 the courfe of conduct which it becomes you to 
 follow J and often review what you have thouc^ht 
 
 0,2 and 
 
228 SERMON XIV. 
 
 and aded. You will all acknowledge that the 
 nature and condition of man difcover religious 
 retirement and recollection to be highly proper 
 and ufeful. When we confider our wants, our 
 weaknefs, our dependance, the dangers to which 
 we are expofed, the hopes and the fears, as well 
 as the immediate happinefs and mifery which our 
 condud occaiions ; they all eonfpire to force this 
 acknowledgment. But how feldom our pradice 
 is influenced by it, let our confcience and our 
 adions bear witnefs. For if the man who is of 
 opinion tliat a frequent and ferious confideration 
 of one's own behaviour, his difpoiitions, and the 
 awful account he muft render, might, by the 
 bleiling of God, prove a remedy for many vices, 
 would but vilit the market-places, the taverns, 
 and Crowded, or private companies j or inquire 
 into the cafe of the opprelTed, or lend an ear to 
 the wailing of the poor ; or obferve the cheats in 
 bufinefs, the chichanery of law, the haughtinefs 
 of men in high ftations, or the envy of thofe be- 
 low them, the unreafonable violence which occa- 
 iions quarrels and divifions, the immoderate keen- 
 nefs in the purfuit of things temporal, and the re- 
 miffnefs in feeking after things eternal ; he could 
 not fail to be perfuaded, that the direction in our 
 text, though heard with fome kind of reverence, 
 is far from being devoutly, or commonly obeyed. 
 
 liS my difcourfe to you therefore at this time, I 
 propofe to explain the nature and delign of religi- 
 ous retirement and recoiled ion, and to endeavour 
 to perfuade you to the pradice of thofe duties. 
 
 I ADDRESS 
 
SERMON XIV. 229 
 
 I ADDRE=;s myfclf to every one in this houfe ; 
 but I confider the fiibjed as more efpecially fuited 
 to thofe who have lb immediate a profped of 
 commemorating the death of Chrift in the Sacra- 
 ment ; for furely it is particularly fit that our 
 hearts (hould be purified by meditation and prayer, 
 when we are in fo folemn and public a manner to 
 profefs ourfelves the difciples of Jefus. I propofe 
 then in the firft place to explain the nature and 
 deiigjn of religious retirement and recoUedion. 
 When the illuftrious writer of this pfalm, who 
 had fuch a deep infight into the difeafes of the 
 human heart, and could fo ably prefcribe falutary 
 remedies, here recommends religious retirement 
 and recolledlion, it feems evident that he has no 
 dcfign to fay any thing in comm.endation of a 
 total feclulion from the world. The words by no 
 means import any thing of this nature. A recefs 
 from the world and its cares can never be the 
 objed of a general precept. In conformity then 
 to the intention of the text, I am to confider that 
 kind of retirement which is proper for men en- 
 gaged in the bulinefs of life, and which is necef- 
 fary, in order to fupport the focial character ufe- 
 fully and honourably. Whether a total feclufion 
 from the world, a reflgnation of all the endearing 
 ties of friend (hip, affedi on, love, a departure from 
 all the duties which our prefent (late requires, and 
 of which providence feems to allot every one a 
 (hare, be agreeable to the commands of God, or 
 deferving praife of men, or a fit prep ration for a 
 ftate of happinefs in the heavenly kii.gdom, where 
 there is a fociety united by the ftron2;e{l bonds, I 
 will not at this time inquire. If they are ever 
 
 allowable. 
 
ZSO SERMON XIV. 
 
 allowable, the circumftances which call to them 
 are very peculiar; and I cannot hefitate to fay 
 that the moft worthy of ail characters is the man 
 who maintains his ftation in life, ever animated 
 by a fervent piety, and ever guided by an invio- 
 lable integrity. To cherilh a fpirit of piety, and 
 to aflili: him in fupporting an uniform uprightnefs 
 of intention and adion, religious retirement and 
 recolledion will be of the greateil iuiportance. 
 We will difcern this if we coniideT in what the 
 excTcife of them confifts. ' ^ 
 
 It confifts in devoting a portion of our time for 
 the moft valuable purpofes, for converfing with 
 ' our own hearts, for the confideration of our be- 
 haviour, and corrparing it with the perfedions of 
 God, for inquiring after and applying the means 
 of regulating every unlawful delire, and ot mode- 
 rating every unreafonable wi(h. In religious re- 
 tirement, we are employed in pouring out our 
 iiearts before the giver of our life and our mercies, 
 in imploring his aiillTance to Improve our charac- 
 ters, in admiring and adt^ing the perfedions of 
 liis nature, and in expanding the powders of our 
 minds to receive tlie moft gracious influences. 
 The difpofitions chiefly to be exercifed in the 
 hours of retirement' are, fincerity in the conlidera- 
 tion of our own charaders j impartiality in the 
 examination of our lives ; a devotion of heart 
 kindled by the contemplation of unerring wifdom, 
 undeviating goodnefs and unlimited mercy, efpe- 
 cially as thefe are difcovered in our Lord Jefus 
 Chrifi ; humility of mind, and contrition of heart, 
 fo unavoidable when we are reviewing our own 
 . faults, 
 
SERMON XIV. 231 
 
 faults, and adoring the all-perfed God. The ex- 
 ad portion of time that lliould be devoted to reli- 
 gious retirement and refledion, or how often the 
 feafons for thefe exercifes ought to recur, cannot 
 be precifely determined, as the circumftances of 
 mankind differ fo widely. But flirely there is no 
 occupation of life which does not admit of fome 
 intervals. And fliall chriflians be lefs zealous 
 about the interefts of virtue and religion than the 
 philofopher who enjoined his followers every night, 
 before ileep fealed their eyes, to call themfelves to 
 an account for the adions of the paif day. Be- 
 fides this, by profeifm-g our belief in the oracles of 
 God, we look upon one day in feven as particu- 
 larly dedicated to religion. And by the views 
 many of you have, and your attendance here, 
 you profefs a degree of reverence for other feafons 
 fet apart for this purpofe. To the bufiefl of us, 
 I will venture to fay, neither time nor opportuni- 
 ties for retirement and refledion are wanting. 
 To excite you to lay hold on thefe, I now pro- 
 ceed to propofe fome arguments, which I fliall en- 
 deavour to lay before you in fuch a manner, that 
 they may not only ferve as motives to engage 
 compliance with the pfalmiit's advice, but like- 
 wife, that they may convey to the attentive 
 hearer fome farther inftru^tion, as to the method 
 in which we may moff advantageoufly fpend the 
 hours of retirement. 
 
 May God grant to you the hearing ear, and 
 the undcrffanding heart j and to the preacher, the 
 power of perfuafion ! 
 
 In 
 
a32 SERMON XIV. 
 
 In the firil place then, Religious retirement 
 and reile^lion have a very dkedi ^tendency to 
 reclaim and reftrain from vice, and to improve in 
 virtue. Man is compounded of feveral diflin^^ 
 powers and faculties, all neceffary for human life 
 and happinefs, provided there is that regular fub- 
 ordination preferved among them, which nature 
 points out, and without which, experience fhews, 
 that neither the individual, nor fociety can fub- 
 fift. It is evident from our very frame, that God 
 has conferred an authority upon reafon and con- 
 fcience. Jn the narrow empire of the human 
 mind thefe claim a ri^ht to fway the fcepter. 
 But who knows not, that man is apt to be milled 
 by the influence of his palTions, that are ready to 
 a(fl as rebellious fubjetl^s againft the juftefi: and 
 beft of favereigns ? To break the bands of reafon, 
 and to obey the lawlefs didates of i regular paf- 
 iion, the tumult of life, the fug^cftions of the 
 gay, and the example of the vicious, prove like 
 fo many evil counfellors. They are the movers of 
 fedition : and their chief way of moving it is not 
 by offering arguments, but partly by b rrying us 
 away with tlie ftream, and partly by railing fuch 
 an uproar around us, that the voice of reafon, 
 which may be compared to the iiill, fmall voice of 
 God, which fpoke to Elijah, is confidcrcd as a 
 whifper, from which we turn away our ear, as if 
 we heard it not. If confcience offers its threaten- 
 ing admonitions, the mixinci; more deeply in the 
 circle of the diilipated, the bufy, and worft of all, 
 the debauched, proves an opiate for that time to 
 lull it alleep. And thus the vrretched man pro- 
 ceeds, till, like the haughty king, who, having 
 
 times 
 
S E R M O N XIV. 233 
 
 limes without number trair-pled upon the divine 
 laws of his nature, loft his undcrftanding, and 
 was flifTered to partake of every grovelling and 
 degrading pleafure. Is this declamation'* Alas! 
 it is fad. O thoughtlefs man, how often haft 
 thou eagerly engaged in a fecond diverfion to 
 drive away the refiedion, the painfd refledion 
 which the guilt contraded in a former oocafioned ! 
 I fee the cup in the drunkard's hand, and he 
 greedily fwallows the poifon, in order to drown 
 the remorfe of his mind for laft night's intempe- 
 rance. The unwary youth, once initiated into 
 linful pleafure, unwilling now to hear the coun- 
 fel of virtue, but unable to rcprefs it, feeks for 
 the witnefles and advifers of his tranfgreilions, 
 and from the laugh of levity, and the madnefs of 
 impiety, he believes wifdom overcome, and ac- 
 quires new fpirits to rufti upon his ruin. This 
 day you begin to take undue advantages of your 
 neighbour : you begin without daring to refolve 
 that you will perfift. When you impofe upon 
 your fecure brotlier, your tongue falters, and a 
 fmall degree of attention, (but honefty is always 
 unfufpicious) would difcern the alterations in your 
 countenance. But to become more expert, you 
 herd with the more experienced in villainy, and 
 never allow yourfelves a moment to refted, till 
 you be a proftcicnt in that worft of trades, in 
 which at lirft you was a backward fcholar. Thus 
 hurrying from vanity to vanity, and from vice to 
 vice, the wicked multiply acquaintance, and at- 
 tach companions in iniquity, ftrangers, utter 
 ftrangers all the while, to what it behoves them 
 moft to know, ftrangers to themfelves. Ye fons 
 
 of 
 
2?4 S E R M O N XIV. 
 
 ot folly, fain would I introduce you to a new ac- 
 quaintance, fain would I engage you to take 
 pleafure in a new kind of converfation. Cultivate 
 an acquaintance with your own hearts, and 1 will 
 change your name, and with reafon : liften to the 
 improving language of your confciences. Though 
 you fiiould meet with rebukes, prefer them to the 
 flattering voice of thofe foes to your improvement, 
 peace and happinefs, which approach you under 
 the infinuating, but falfe appearance of pleafure. 
 For in the religious retreat, with every paifion ' 
 fiilled, and every defire quieted, behold holy rea- 
 fon feated on her throne, and exerting her full 
 power. Here you form jufl judgments of your 
 own condud, and of that of others, of the proper 
 and lawful purfuits of life, and the means of 
 attaining lawful ends. When, removed from the 
 eye of the world, we converfe with our own 
 hearts, then every man is upon a level. The 
 external marks of dignity are removed, power is 
 fufpended, and riches make no difference. Thefe 
 things which are fo apt to intoxicate the human 
 mind, being abfent, the lins which we committed 
 in the hurry of life are remembered, confidered 
 and lamented. Then is it that recolledion ex- 
 ecuting the office of the prophet of old, can thus 
 addrefs the man in the moft exalted flation, O 
 King^ let my comijel he ccccptcihk to thee. Break off^ 
 fhy fins by righteoufnejs^ a??d thy iniquity hyjlieiving 
 mercy to the poor ^ ^'f fi ^'^' ^'^ '^^^^y ^'^ ^ lengthening of 
 thy tranquillity. Let but the unjuft judge review 
 the fentcnce for which his injured brother com- 
 plains of him ; and will not the remorfe this occa- 
 fions prevent him from pronouncing a like one? 
 
 Ye 
 
SERMON XIV. 2S5 
 
 Ye who fpend the night in revelling and drunken- 
 nefs, whom the morning fun (which the children 
 of temperance rife to behold with rapture, and 
 which enables them to purfue the various, honeft 
 occupations of life) juft fhines upon as you are 
 finiihing your debauch ; tell me ferioufly if you 
 arc not perfuaded, that you would curb your 
 licentious appetites, and walk in the paths of 
 fobriety, if you fet apart but ten minutes of every 
 day for refledion, meditation and prayer ? Would 
 ambition ravage the worid, or engage men in 
 projeds for pulling down ftates, ruining families, 
 or reducing to mifery particular perfons, if thofe 
 who feel its impulfes would often calmly confider 
 the vanity, uncertainty and fhort duration of tem- 
 poral enjoyments ? If this were the cafe, would 
 ambition be any other thing in the human breaft, 
 but an honeft defire of obtaining the means of 
 promoting public, or private happinefs ? V/ould 
 avarice hoard by every infamous method, if due 
 fcope were given to meditation, in order to con- 
 vince us of the w^orthleiTnefs of thofe riches which 
 often ?f2ake tlic^njches W7?ig.^^ of the folly of pur- 
 chaling the accommodations of a pilgrimage at 
 the rifque of lofing an everlafting citizenfliip ? It 
 is in retirement that objeds lofe the falfe glare with 
 which pailion colours them, and that our own 
 charaders appear in a juft point of view. Man 
 will no doubt be partial to himfelf I allow that 
 the vanity of individuals is great. I allow that 
 the blindnefs of man with regard to his own vices 
 is aftonifhing ; but let any perfon, confidering 
 himfelf under the awful influence of God, and 
 praying earneftly to him that he would open his 
 
 eyes 
 
256 S E R M O N XIV. 
 
 eyes to make him difcern his faults, but once fe- 
 rioully refied upon his temper and pradice, and 
 1 maintain that he will not remain fo vain, or fo 
 blind as he vvas before. Had David obeyed his 
 own diredion before Nathan came to him, he had 
 not heard fo apt an allegory v/ithout fparing the 
 refolute but charitable application, Tnoii art the 
 nuiN. Whence proceeds it, but from v^rant of fer- 
 rious confideration, that if 1 were to aik your 
 charaders at the moft candid of your neighbours, 
 and mark down what they told me, that 1 Ihould 
 prefeni you with a lii^ of feveral vices which you 
 could readily apply to fome of thofe with whom 
 you converfe every day ; but before you difcerned 
 that they belonged to yourfelf, it would be necef^ 
 fary di redly to inform you, ye are the men. 
 The pharifee whom our Saviour defcribes in the, 
 parable was a ftranger to his own proper charac- 
 ter, becaufe, though he feemed to be religioufly 
 employed, yet he had not fuiiicient impreffions of 
 the holinefs of that Being in vjhofe fight the heavens 
 are not piire^ becaufe he turned his view to his 
 good qualities, rather than his faults, and becaufe 
 he efti mated his worth not from God's law, but 
 from a comparifon with others. In one word, I 
 really cannot difcern a vice in human nature 
 which levity does not fofier : and I am not fenfi- 
 ble that there is any one vice which refledion and 
 confideration would not at firfl tend to reftrain, 
 and by degrees to cure. I faid likewife, that re- 
 eolledion and religious retirement tended to im- 
 prove us in every virtue. By provins; remedies 
 for vice, they effed this in a confiderable degree, 
 but they have ftill a more dired tendency. 
 
 Every 
 
SERMON XIV. 237 
 
 Every one is fenfible, that refoliitions to be 
 virtnons have great influence to form a virtuous 
 characler. But refolutions entered into in retire- 
 ment, and upon reikdion, are thofe to which we 
 moft fleadily adhere in acflion. In retirement vv^e 
 can beft colledl and mcft dehberately refolve to 
 apply the maxims wliicli the knowledge of the 
 world is calculated to teach. Then occur all 
 thofe religious and moral confiderations which 
 prove the fences and guardians of virtue. Confi- 
 deration difcovers the many failings ^nd errors of 
 which we have been guilty; and thus it promotes 
 charity towards others, and forgivenefs of inju-' 
 ries, at the fame time the ftrideft circumfpedion 
 ovpr onp's ->i^ * ^ ^ ^^ ■^ ^ ^ ^ ■^ '^ >^ ^ tj -^ ^ -;«.- 
 
 * * commanding fituation he furveys the beauties 
 which the chearful fpring or fruitful autumn 
 fpreads round him, feels the moft pleafing emoti- 
 ons diffufe themfelves over his whole frame ? 
 While walking along the founding fliore, does 
 agreeable amazem.ent fill the foul at beholding 
 thefe animated forms ereded by the Almighty's 
 hand, the towering precipices, the vaft ocean, or 
 the boundiefs canopy of heaven. If thefe things 
 are fo ; and that they are, let experience atteft, 
 how reafonable is it to believe that the religious 
 mind contemplating the everlafting Nature, before 
 whom the fun is darknefs, the earth an atom, 
 and wlio treadeth upon the flars, fhould feel an 
 expanfion of its powers inconceivably great ? and 
 in this fituation, will not he that delighteth to 
 dwell in the upright and pure, manifeft kimj'elf as 
 he docs not to the worlds more efpeciaily, when 
 
 the 
 
22^ S E R M O N XIV. 
 
 the foul is enraptured with furveying the miracu- 
 lous fcheme of redemption, admiring the infinite 
 love of that Saviour, who, though rich^ yet became 
 poor^ though high^ yet hiimhkd himfelf^ and by a 
 courfe of adions moft grievous and painful, open- 
 ed the gates of glory to his followers j when we 
 vievx7 him fuffering, dying, rifing again, when, as 
 Elifha beheld his mafter, we behold him taken up 
 into the fuperior regions, and are ready to cry out, 
 Afy God^ and my Father^ will he refufe that a dou- 
 ble portion of his Spirit fhould reft upon us ? 
 When piety prompts fuch exprelfions as thefe, 
 My foul thirjieth for God^ for the living God : As 
 the hart pa?iteth after the water brooks^ fo panteth 
 my foul after thee^ God j Is it not reafonable to 
 think that prefent experience fhould confirm this 
 truth ? The eyes of the Lord are ou the righteous 5 
 his ears are open to their cry. I do not deny, my 
 brethern, that much has been advanced about this 
 dodlrine of communion with God, with more zeal 
 than knowledge. The manner in which the 
 Spirit operates, we have the beft reafon to con- 
 clude, is often concealed from us, and inexplica- 
 ble by us. But fpeaking the words of truth and 
 fobernefs, it appears quite reafonable to afcribe 
 the greateft part of that peace, joy and elevation 
 which the truly religious man feels in his retired 
 and devout hours, to the fecret, though not lefs 
 immediate or powerful, operations of that Spirit. 
 
 Having fliewn the ufefulnefs and the pleafure 
 of religious retirement ; If I were not convinced 
 that with mankind often, where more generous 
 and noble arguments fail, pleas from neceflity en- 
 gage 
 
SERMON XIV, 239 
 
 gage to adion, I flioiild fcarcely urge, as an argu- 
 ment to comply with the advice in the text, the 
 unavoidablenefs of fuffering retirement often, of 
 being often obliged to refled by many of thofe 
 accidents and afBidions, which are the lot of hu- 
 manity. 
 
 The fun of profperity has as yet (hone upon 
 you. But think ye, will he never be overclouded, 
 or will he never withdraw his beams, by which 
 means levity will be baniflied from your foul; 
 and refledion, from which you fled as from an 
 enemy, be forced upon you ? Will that river on 
 which you defcend, and which terminates in the 
 ocean of eternity, be always equally placid and 
 ferene? Are there no rapid ftreams where you 
 will find the greatefl: diiiiculty to manage that 
 fmall fkiff in which you are conveyed ? Are there 
 no water-falls, many fathoms deep, where you 
 will be in the utmoft dane;er of being overwhelm- 
 ed? Will no violent gufts, defcending from be- 
 tween the hills, be ready to overfet you ? In that 
 period of time, which is. confumed in the voyage 
 of human life, will there be no flormy days, nor 
 dark nights ? Will there be but three fcalons in 
 the year, and tliofe of the gentleft kind, fpring, 
 fummer, and autumn ? Or will never winter ap- 
 pear, furrounded with all his llorms? Vain mor- 
 tal I Man that is horn of a woman^ /> of a fiiv days ; 
 tliey are full of trouble. Though you have as yet 
 always attended the houfe of fearing and mirth, 
 yet you know not what forrow may remain be- 
 hind. At the table of the former, I know reflec- 
 tion is feldom admitted as a guell, and men who 
 
 frequent 
 
240 SERMON XIV. 
 
 frequent their houfe, rarely ever retire ; or when 
 they do, they are taken up with the pleafurcs, or 
 the bufinefs of to-morrow. They never conlider 
 their hearts, their Hves, or their tempers. Even 
 in the houfe of God, which thev frequent for 
 cuitom's fake, or perhaps to prevent their being 
 alone, their affections and their defires are ftill 
 with the world, ruminating upon the guilty plea- 
 fures that are paf!:, or looking forward to joys of 
 the like nature. You have faid to yourfelves then, 
 perhaps in the pride of your hearts, li'fy houfe Jhall 
 77ez.'cr he moz-ed. But I will m.ake fome fuppolitions, 
 that are often verified in life, w^iich may perhaps 
 convince you of the neceffity of receding in time. 
 I will fuppofe that you yet retain the virtue of na- 
 tural affedion, and that you have friends and chil- 
 dren who are dear to you. God fees fit to fend 
 the rod of afflidion, and to take them out of 
 life. Attending upon their funeral, when every 
 eye is ready to drop a tear, will you liill allow 
 thoughtleflhefs and inconfideration to pcifefsyour 
 hearts ? Perhaps you may here be able to boafl of 
 your fuperiority. But kiiow, that by folly many 
 have been hrous;ht to a morjel of breads and by un- 
 forefeen accidents, this hath fometimes been the 
 fate of thofe in whom the wifdom of this world 
 has been remarkable If you are fent then to the 
 chearlefs hut of miferable poverty, dependent 
 perhaps upon the charity of thofe whom you for- 
 merly defpifed •, will your former companions now 
 viiit you, to fill up every vacant and lonely hour ? 
 Upon the very Ifreet, they would pafs yon with- 
 out feeming to know you. Though in the days 
 of your plenty, they fquandered profufely with 
 
 you 
 
SERMON XIV. 241 
 
 you at the debauch or entertainment, yet they 
 ■will now treat you, as refledion perhaps \\ ill in- 
 form you, you treated the beggar who was fliiver- 
 ing at your door, while you was wallowing in 
 plenty. Finally, I will fuppofe thofe afflidions 
 which befal many, pain, difquiet, licknefs, fhall 
 befal you. And no matter whether you are rich 
 or poor, for it will make very fmall difference. 
 Can you then believe that the goblet, fpark- 
 ling with wine or ftrong drink, is the banifher of 
 care? Will your vicious companions litting at 
 your bed-fide, prevent a vifit from thcfe ftrangers, 
 thoughtfulnefs and reeolledion ? Then indeed, 
 in any of thefe or the like circumftances in v/hich 
 you may be, they will lay hold on you, and you 
 can neither banifh them, nor fly from them. 
 They might have come to your aid and fupport, 
 like guardian angels : but now they come like an 
 armed force to bind you, and deliver you up to 
 the tormentors. Therefore, my brethren, confi- 
 der the lituation in which you are, the misfor-' 
 tunes to which you are liable, which will 
 oblige you to think and refled, even in fpite of 
 yourfelves ; be perfuaded now to accuftom your-, 
 felvcs to thefe, that you may meet recolledion and 
 retirement, when they are necelTary, with peace 
 and fitisfadion. As yoii would wifh to abftain 
 from vice, to improve in virtue, to enjoy the 
 pleafurcs of devotion, not to render ficknefs, or 
 poverty, or death intolerable, comply now with 
 the advice of the Pfalmift, Commune with your 
 oimi hejrts upon your bed, and be J] ill. Believe me, 
 my brethren, by followins; this advice, you will 
 live the more harmonioufly iu the fame focietv 
 
 R and 
 
z^z SERMON XIV. 
 
 and neij^hhourhood : you will love one another 
 the better, be more willing to overlook each others 
 frailties and faults. You will be the OiOre faithful 
 miniilers, the more diligent teachers, the more 
 upright merchants, the m.ore honeft artificers, the 
 more affedionate • parents, the mvore dutiful chil- 
 dren. In a word, you will be the more perfed 
 in all the relations and circumftances of life in 
 which you may be placed. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XV. 
 
 LuKR vii. 36 — 48. 
 
 And one of the pharifces de fired him that he would eat 
 with him. And he ivent into the phmifee's houfe^ 
 and fat down to meat. And behold ^ a woman in 
 the city^ which was a finner^. whenjhe knew that 
 Jefus fat at meat in the pharifee s houfe., brought 
 an alabafler box of ointment^ and food at his feet 
 behind him weepings and bega?i to wqjh his feet 
 with tears^ and did wipe them with the hairs of 
 her head^ and ki fed his feet ^ a?id a?mnted them 
 with the ointment. Now when the pharifee which 
 had bidden him^ fiw it^ he f pake -within hinfelf 
 
 fayi?2g^ This jnan^ if he were a prophet., would 
 have known who^ and what manner of woman this 
 is that toucheth him : for fie is a finner. And 
 Jefus anfweri?ig^ faid unto him^ Simon^ I have 
 
 fonmvhat to fay unto thee. Atid he fayeth., Maflery 
 fay on. There was a certain creditor., which had 
 two debtors : the one owed five hujidred pence., a?id 
 the other ffty. And when they had nothing to 
 pay., he frankly forgave them both. Tell ?ne there-- 
 
 fore., which of them will love him mof? Sifnon 
 anfvered and faid., I fuppofe that he to who?n he 
 
 forgave mof. And he faid unto him., Thou haft: 
 R 2 rightly 
 
244 S E R M O N XV. 
 
 rightly judged. And he turned to the woman^ and 
 fa'd unto Simon^ Seeji thou this woman ^ I enier^ 
 ed into thine hoiije^ thou gave ft me no w.iter for 
 my jeet ; hut foe hath wafoied my feet with tears, 
 and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou 
 gave/i me no kifs : but thi's woman., fonce the ti?ne 
 I came in^ hath not ceafed to kifs my feet. Mine 
 head with oU taou didfl not anoint : but this woman 
 hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore 
 I fay unto thee., her fons which are many are for- 
 given., for foie loved much : hut to whom little is 
 forgiven., the fome loveth little. And Iw fiid unto 
 her., Thy fons are foor given. 
 
 V^OW many principles of the human confti- 
 tiition, it might e:ifily be fhevvn, that there is no 
 method of inftru<fiion fo pleafing and powerful, as 
 that which is derived from a juft delineation of 
 chara^fters, and an afteifVng reprefentation of faints. 
 Ihefe take a ready and fafl hold of the memory, 
 and the conclufions to be drawn from them, being 
 iimilar to what prudence teaches every man to 
 draw in the ordinary condud of life, are cifily 
 apprehended, and leave a lalting impreflTion. 
 The fentiment which has obtained fuch univerfal 
 approbation, / ayn a man^ and I think nothinc^ be- 
 longing to man foreign to me.^ is deeply engraved 
 upon every heart : and while the foundeft abftrad 
 reafoning, or moft wholefome general rules are 
 ilifregarded, virtue fcarce ever fails to infinuate 
 itfclt, and to gain ground w^here it is recommend- 
 ed by tliofe examples which difcover the natural 
 
 and 
 
S E R M O N XV. 245 
 
 and amiable feelings of the heart. They attratft 
 Our love. They operate on our fympathy. They 
 convince us, that what was once pradifed, is ftill 
 practicable: and thus while they attach, tliey as it 
 Were transform the foul. On the other hand, the 
 deformity of vice is beft reprefented in a living 
 objed. It becomes more odious bv being con- 
 traftedwith virtue. Its pernicious effeds are irolt 
 obvioufly difplayed, and the fentiments of appro- 
 bation and abhorrence are mutually heightened by 
 oppofition. We can fcarcely turn to ?nv difcourfe 
 of our Saviour's, which does not ferve to illunratc- 
 thefe obferVations. 
 
 The pafTagc I have now vcrA reprcft-nts to ns^ 
 in the charader of the pharifee, a proud, haughty 
 and rigid temper, and difcovers to us the dange- 
 rous nature of thofe vices, vv^hich may lurk in the 
 breafl: of a man, and influence his condud, who 
 is at the fame time ignorant of them. The fin- 
 cere marks of forrovvand attachment exhibited by 
 the humble penitent, work upon our compalilon, 
 and intereft us for her recovery. The iiumane 
 and generous condud of the great fnftrudor of 
 mankind, foothes and revives her dejeded fpirit : 
 and we partake of thefe plealing emotions. The 
 acceptance of her humility, repentance and love, 
 difpels all thofe doubtful and folicitous thoughts, 
 w^hich the fting even of forfaken guilt would 
 otherwife occaf;on, and diffufes that facred fereni- 
 ty and joy over the human heart, which meet; 
 with the approbation of confciencc and of heaven. 
 Such fentiments as thefe, I believe, naturally pre- 
 fent themfelves to a religious mind, on reading 
 
 this 
 
246 SERMON XV. 
 
 this paffage. On account of its perfpicuity and 
 plainnefs, it does not require a long commentary j 
 a few remarks, however, will not be improper. 
 
 The pharifees were a fe£t of the Jews, who 
 pretended to a peculiar fandity and virtue. They 
 valued themfelves on a ftrid obfervance of the 
 law, and an entire conformity to all its ceremo- 
 nies. The merit they alTumed to themfelves on 
 this account, exprefled itfelf in a fuperciliou? 
 haughtinefs of behaviour, and an avowed con- 
 tempt of others. It is natural to imagine, as it in 
 fad happened with the pharifees, that a religion 
 which confiftcd fo much in externals, fhould often 
 be made a cloak to conceal the carnal purpofes of 
 the heart. One of this feci, whom we may rea- 
 fonably believe to have had as much candour and 
 charity as moft of the order, invited our Saviour 
 to his houfe; and agreeably to the ufual conde- 
 fcenfion and courteoufnefs of his behaviour, he 
 readily accepted the invitation. The exclufive 
 privilege which the pharifees claimed of being ac- 
 counted holy, had introduced a diflindion that 
 could not fail to be attended with very pernicious 
 effe6is. If a man was not admitted into their 
 fedl, if he did not conform to every trivial obfer- 
 vance, if he filled an ofHce which happened with 
 them to be unpopular, or difhonourable ; in one 
 or all of thefe cafes, he was regarded as a fmner. 
 Thus men, who in the eftimation of the ftrit51eft 
 fed among them, went all under the fame deno- 
 mination, being unreftrained by any regard to 
 charader, readily fell into thofe vices, an abfli- 
 nence from which would not have altered their 
 
 general 
 
S E R M O N XV. 247 
 
 general reputation. Uninfluenced by the hope of 
 honeft praife, or the fear of deferved reproach, it 
 was no wonder if the real vices, which an injuri- 
 ous and political diftindion had chiefly occafioned, 
 and from which the pharifees could boafl: they 
 were free, feemed to juftify the appellation which 
 they gave them. Pride and prejudice had carried 
 the antipathy againfl them fo far, that to hold any 
 communication with them, or to eat with them, 
 was accounted a ftain j and a good o.iice perform- 
 ed to them was fcarce reckoned one of the duties 
 of humanity. Our Saviour, whofe native virtue 
 and unftained integrity rendered no mean compli- 
 ance with the prejudices of the times necefTary, 
 and the overflowings of whofe benevolence were, 
 like the rays of the fun, difl?*ufed to all, never 
 avoided their company, notwithftanding the of- 
 fence it gave, and the contempt and malice it pro- 
 duced ; but by the aptefl admonitions, and the 
 mofl merciful declarations, infufed into their 
 minds, the obliterated principles of virtue j and 
 by infpiring them with the hopes of the divine 
 favour, recovered them from defpair and guilt, to 
 penitence and reformation. 
 
 It happened that while our Saviour was at 
 meat with the pharifee, a woman of the city who 
 belonged to the clafs we have been fpeaking of, 
 and who had probably been notorious for her 
 vices, came into the houfe; and having brought 
 with her an alabafter box of ointment, while our 
 Saviour reclined on the bed, flood at his feet and 
 wept. The grief of her heart, and the fervour of 
 her afFedion made her tears flow in fuch abun- 
 dance, 
 
1^48 SERMON XV. 
 
 dance, that fhe wafiied his feet with them, She 
 moreover wiped them with the hair of her head, 
 and anointed them with the ointment. I will not 
 enter into any curious inquiry who this penitent 
 woman was, whether Mary the fifler of Lazarus, 
 Mary Magdalen, or fome other; or whether the 
 hiflory before us relates to the fame event which 
 is recorded by the other evangelifls, as happening 
 immediately before our Saviour was betrayed. It 
 is fuiTcient to fay, that the firft is a point of mere 
 curiofity, which it is neither eafy nor neceflary to 
 determine, and that the relation we are confider- 
 ing, differs fo much from thofe of the other evan- 
 gelifls referred to, both in order of time, and a 
 variety of circumftances, that it appears extreme- 
 ly probable to me that they are not founded on 
 the fame tranfaOion. It may be proper to make 
 fome remarks upon the figns of penitence and 
 attachment which are here defcribed. 
 
 There arc fome expreflions of our paflions 
 natural and univerfal. There are other indicati- 
 ons of them, which may be ultimately founded in 
 nature, but immediately derived from the parti- 
 cular manners and cuftoms that prevail in a 
 country. Accidental circumftances too, in the 
 former part of one's life, may give an additional 
 and peculiar expreffion to fome tokens of forrow. 
 Thus the efFufion of tears is the natural and uni- 
 verfal indication of grief, the genuine exprelTion of 
 a foul melted with forrow and penitence. The 
 wafliing the feet of a flranger was an antient 
 mark of hofpitality, as we may fee from Abraham's 
 addrefs to the angels, whom he invited to come 
 
 into 
 
SERMON XV. 249 
 
 into his tent. The cuftom fpread over the eaft, 
 and prevailed alfo among the antient Greeks. It 
 had been retained by the Jews, and might natu- 
 rally come to be confidercd as a token of regard, 
 which is a fentiment fo nearly allied to hofpitality. 
 I might here therefore remark, that, when our 
 Saviour waflied his difciples feet, it was an in- 
 flance both of condefcenfion and regard, very fuit- 
 able to the manners of the country. A faluta- 
 tion, in almoft all ages and nations, has been con- 
 fidered as a token of good-will and friendfliip. 
 And this very circumftance adds an infamy to the 
 treachery of Judas, and a feverity to our Saviour's 
 queftion, Bctrqyeji thou the Jon of man with a kij's ? 
 
 The hair of her head, which this penitent had 
 probably been fo careful to braid and attire, in 
 order to fet off her beauty to the greateft advan- 
 tage, to gratify her vanity, or feduce the unwary, 
 now hangs loofe, unadorned and dishevelled. She 
 ufes it to wipe the feet which her tears had bathed. 
 Thecontraft of her former life and manners renders 
 the neghgence of her drefs, and the inftance of her 
 humility more ftriking teftimonies of the fincerity 
 of her forrow, and the purity of her purpofes. 
 
 Ointments and perfumes were ufed in thofe 
 days by way of ornament and neatnefs, and were 
 often offered at entertainments to the guefts. The 
 pradice of ufing them gave occafion to our Sa- 
 viour to exhort his difciples, when they fafted, 
 not to disfigure their faces as tlie Pharifees did, 
 but to w^afh them, and anoint their head. What 
 had formerly ferved for the decoration of her per- 
 
2SO SERMON XV. 
 
 fon, the penitent now employs to anoint our Sa- 
 viour's feet. 
 
 The companionate Jefus faw and received 
 thefe natural, genuine and ftriking tokens of re^ 
 morfe, repentance, and regard with complacence. 
 But on this the difpoluion of the pharifee imme- 
 diately appears, Jor he f aid within himfelf^ If this 
 man were a prophet^ he would have known who^ and 
 what manner of woman this is \ firfhe is afinner. 
 The vices which this remark difcovers, I fhall 
 have occafion to mention more particularly after- 
 wards. At prefent I only explain the hiftory. 
 Our Saviour, who judged not by the feeing of the 
 eye, nor the hearing of the ear, but who difcern- 
 ed the fecret fentiments of the heart, that he 
 might obviate the objedion, which was evidently 
 the refult of pride and felf-confidence, makes ufe 
 of a fhort, but appofite ftory. There was a certain 
 creditor which had two debtors^ &c. ^. Simon, who 
 perhaps did not know that the queftion had any 
 relation to his own fufpicions, anfwers according to 
 the natural and firft feelings of his heart. Simon 
 anfwered and f aid ^ 1 fuppofe that he to whom he for- 
 gave moft ^. In the 44th, 45th, 46th, and 
 47th verfes, our Saviour applies the converfation 
 to Simon and the penitent; the whole is to be 
 taken together, and the mea.ning appears to me 
 to be this, that as the generolity of a creditor, 
 in the judgment of the pharifee himfelf, is the 
 more to be praifed the larger the debt he remits, 
 
 * VER. 41, 42. ^ VER. 43. 
 
 fo 
 
SERMON XV. 25c 
 
 Co the mercy of God is the more to he admired in 
 the pardon and acceptance of a notorious finner ; 
 and as the gratitude of a debtor rifes the higher, 
 and is on this account more the obje(5t of our ap- 
 probation, the greater the fum that is remitted 
 him, fo the gratitude and love which the remiffion 
 of many fins kindle in a true penitent, are fo 
 ftrong and fervent, that the condefcending Father 
 of goodnefs regards them with a particular de- 
 gree of approbation. 
 
 The oppofition between the condu^l of the 
 pharifee and the woman fets both in the flrongefl 
 light. I would only add, to what I have already 
 obferved, upon the circumftances that occur here, 
 that the cuftoms of giving water to wa(h the feet 
 of their guefts, of falutation and prefenting; them 
 with ointments, which had formerly been marks 
 of general refped and hofpitality, had, by the 
 fpirit of party and the mutual hatred of feds, 
 been converted into tokens of more particular 
 friendfhjp and connedion. The condud of the 
 pharifee to our Saviour at this time, which is ta- 
 citly blamed, renders this probable. The fame 
 alfo appears from our Saviour's obfervation in his 
 fermon on the mount. ^W if ye falute your bre^ 
 thren onJy^ what do more than others ^ do not even 
 the publicans the fame ^ ^ 
 
 After ihefe obfervations, let us now attend to 
 thofe rcflcdions w^hich this paflage fuggefts to us. 
 
 '^ MATTH. V. 47. 
 
 Let 
 
25^ SERMON XV. 
 
 Let us, in the iirft place, confider the charader o£ 
 the pharifee, whofe vices are riot exprefly men* 
 tioned, but are left to be colleded from the gene- 
 ral ftrain of the hiftory. There is no reafon to 
 think that he was among the moft corrupt of that 
 feiSl. We may fuppofe that he was no ftranger to 
 thofe virtues which the pharifee claims in the 
 xviiith chapter of Luke, and that he was unftained 
 by thofe vices, from which he glories in being 
 free. He might have thanked God that he was 
 neither a?i extortioner^ nor iwjuft^ ?ior an adulterer ; 
 tkat he faded twice in the week^ and gave tithes of 
 all that he had. Fraud and opprelTion he had ne- 
 ver countenanced ; and we may allow that the 
 ordinary uprightnefs of his behaviour was irre- 
 proachable. Ye men of the world, would ye de- 
 lire a better charader, or wifh for a more blame- 
 lefs reputation ? Strangers to the lovely and allu- 
 ring form of virtue, you miftake for it a lifelefs 
 image which only bears a refemblance in a few 
 features. From the hiftory now before us, let us 
 examine this character more minutely, and point 
 out its defers. 
 
 First, The unjuft fufpiion which the phari- 
 fee's heart fuggefted, at feeing our Saviour receive 
 the kindnefs of the penitent, without {hewing 
 any marks of difpleafure, evidently difcovers a 
 hi h degree of pride and felf-confidence. The 
 whole hiftory alfo ftiews that he had no fenfe of 
 his own imperfe(flion, nor the leaft apprehenftort 
 of his own demerit. There is not a vice more 
 unbecoming human nature, confidering its frailty 
 and imperfedions, than an ovcrwecninsj opinion 
 
 of 
 
SERMON XV. 253 
 
 of ourfelvcs: as if we vvere exempted from follies 
 and faults. When it is obferved in the ordinary 
 tranfa6>ions of life, it is a proof of great weaknefs. 
 But in the concerns of virtue and religion, it 
 plainly difcovers that we have no juit and elevated 
 fentiments of the ftandard of virtue; that we 
 think of the fupreme Being, the fource and centre 
 of all perfection, in a manner that is unworthy 
 of his purity and holinefs, and that the culture 
 and improvement of our own hearis and temper 
 are the leait objed of our attention. With leC- 
 ped to our fellow-creatures, this temper has the 
 worfe efFed. It gradually \\ eakens and confines 
 our virtue, and at lafi: almoft dellroys the fenti- 
 ments of humanity, kindnefs, generofity and com- 
 paiiion. If it (liould not happen entirely to cor- 
 rupt and deprave the heart, it at leaft deadens all 
 the beft and mofl amiable afFedions of our na- 
 ture, and prevents the exercife of every great and 
 exalted virtue. Will the man who has indulged 
 and cheriflied his pride, till it has become the 
 prevailing and ruling paffion of his heart, and 
 blinded him to every frailty and fault in himfelf, 
 be ready to forgive injuries ? Will he return good 
 for evil ? Will he be patient under afflidions.? 
 Will he bear oppofition? Will he fpare the 
 wretch that has incurred his refentment, and lies 
 at his mercy ? W^ill he (bed the foothing tear of 
 pity, or fpeak the words of kindnefs to quiet the 
 dilirefs of a troubled heart ? Will he bind up the 
 W'Ounds of his poor inferior, and pour wine and 
 oil into them to heal them ? Ah no? Triumphing 
 in the virtues, at whofe defeds the heaven-born 
 foul would blufli; and glorying in his being free 
 
 from 
 
254 SERMON XV. 
 
 from flagrant vices, he defpifes his fellow-fervant, 
 and even approaches heaven with an affured 
 countenance, and fays to the humble and fearful, 
 but devout v^orfhipper, Standby^ j[ am holier than 
 thou. This pride and felf-confidence, by which 
 man is moft diredtly allied with the fpirits who 
 fell, is thus not only heinous in itfelf, but may 
 properly be conlidered as a fource of many other 
 vices. Like a plentiful, but impure fountain, it 
 emits a variety of ftreams equally turbid and im- 
 pure. Being the quality moft remarkable in the 
 pharifaical charatler, the indignation which our 
 mild and charitable Saviour expreffes againft this 
 fe(ft, may fhew its enormity. By affuming an 
 appearance of a confcious fuperiority, of a high 
 regard for virtue, of a deteftation of the abandon- 
 ed:, it fcreens itfelf from the cenfure of the world, 
 and not rarely from the knowledge of the very 
 man who is a prey to it. Thus being a foe equal- 
 ly powerful, fecret and pernicious, its attacks 
 cannot be too cautioufly nor diligently guarded 
 againft. And the declarations in the gofpel, that 
 are fo frequently repeated againft this vice, are a 
 moft awful and alarming warning to chriftians- to 
 attend particularly to their charaders, and not to 
 reft fatisfied, as men are but too apt to do, if 
 their confciences reproach them with no pofitive 
 puilf. 
 
 Secondly, T have the longer infifted upon 
 this vice, becaufe I confider it as the fource from 
 which others difcovered to us m this hiftory do 
 flow. And as they are capable of being diftin- 
 guiftied from it, let us particularly attend to them. 
 
 It 
 
S E K M O N XV. ' 255 
 
 It appears then, in the fecond place, that he was 
 either devoid of the virtue of humanity and com- 
 paffion, or that the vice which has been already 
 named had fo overpowered him, that it prevented 
 its exercife. When the penitent came into the 
 houfe, fhe difcovers the ftrongeft and moft evident 
 fymptoms of forrow and diftrefs. This language, 
 which is the language of nature, never fails to 
 roufe, and to interefi: the heart. And to be igno- 
 rant of it, or inattentive to it, is the fureft fign of 
 an unfeeling foul. Yet the forrowful appearance, 
 the tears and the humble c mdu^t of the penitent, 
 fo far from attracting the attention, and exciting 
 the pity of the pharifee, only afford occafion for a 
 captious and ungenerous refledion. Knowledge 
 of the world, and the falfe appearances that are 
 to be met with in it, may render a man cautious 
 and difcernin? : but if it fteels the heart asrainft 
 every tender and compaflionate feeling for a real 
 fufferer, though almoft the moft worthlefs of men, 
 let my fo;d remain in ignorance. The woman 
 here defcribed was, it is true, a linner. But did 
 tlie moft unfeigned and expreflive forrow carry no 
 plea for pitv ? Rigid and unrelenting virtue, is 
 this the lefTon thou teacheft thy votaries ? No. 
 The virtuous heart is ever humane. At the fuf- 
 ferings of guilt it foftens and melts, but with the 
 tearsof ho neft forrow and penitence it mingles its 
 own, and with the moft attrading an4 endearing 
 fympathy fooths their pains, and mitigates their 
 anguiih. 
 
 Thirdly, Another fault with which the pha- 
 rifee is chargeable, is this : It appears that he muft 
 
 have 
 
256 SERMON XV. 
 
 have entertained very low and groveling notions 
 of the divine purity and perfedion. He harbours 
 not the leaft fufpicion that his own worth is de- 
 fecflive, or the leaft doubt that the divine favour 
 may be withheld : he feems on the contrary to 
 confiderit as his due. What muft this man think 
 of that everlafting One in whofe Jtght the heave?is 
 are not clean^ and who charges his angels with folly ^ 
 While he extravagantly exalts his own merit, how 
 muft he have debafed the Father of lights, whom. 
 the cherubims cannot behold without vailing their 
 faces? Could his divinity be really the powerful, 
 the jealous, the merciful, the glorious God of 
 Mofes and the prophets ? or was he not rather the 
 imperfed, the weak, the partial being of his own 
 imagination ? Think not, my brethern, that in 
 this his underftanding was merely defedtive. Juft 
 opinions of the Deity fcarce ever fail, efpecially 
 where revelation is vouchfafed, to arife in the 
 mind that is difciplined by virtue, and governed 
 by good affedlions. The proud and the vicious, 
 on the contrary, are ftiut out by their own folly 
 from the knowledge of God, and have no dif- 
 cernment of the Moft High. The Lord hateth a 
 proud look^ but he giveth grace unto the lowly ". 
 Thus an attention to the charad^er of the pharifee 
 Ihews us, that he was ruled by pride, and a confi- 
 dence in his own merit j vices moft unbecoming 
 the nature and condition of man : that his heart 
 was infenfible to the language of forrow, and 
 eftranged from the feelings of humanity, and that 
 
 ° pRov. vi. i6, 17. iii. 34. 
 
 his 
 
S E R M O N XV. 257 
 
 his conceptions of the fnpreme Being were alto- 
 gether unfuitable and unworthy of his nature. 
 
 Let us now attend to a very different charaifier, 
 I mean that of the penitent woman. Her humi- 
 hty and penitence render her the objed both of 
 our regard and inftrudion. This woman, who 
 had been a finner, brought an alabafter box of 
 ointment, and w^hile our Saviour was at meat, 
 flood behind him weeping, and began to walh 
 his feet with her tears, and to wipe them with 
 the hair of her head, and kiffcd his feet, and 
 anointed them with the ointment. Thefe indi- 
 cations of her love and attachment, her humility 
 and purpofes of amendment found fuch accept- 
 ance with our Saviour, that he faid unto her, Thy 
 Jins are forgiven thee. 
 
 Fain w^ould man hope, even without revela- 
 tion, that the tears and cries of a returning finner 
 would bend the juftice of the divinity, and incline 
 him to mercy. Fain would nature lead us to 
 afcribe a relenting temper to the Governor of the 
 univerfe, like to that humanity, pity and com- 
 paflion w'hich we difcover in man. But the 
 trembling pinion of reafon fails, when fhe foars 
 to fuch fublime heights : and the report fhe 
 brings is various, uncertain and confufed. After 
 the longeft deliberation, the mofl fenfible and 
 mofl natural prayer w^hich a man fufpended 
 between hope and fear would offer to his Maker 
 upon this fubjed, would be fome fuch one as 
 this. " O thou Sovereign of the univerfe, pour 
 
 S " thy 
 
258 S E R M ON XV. 
 
 " thy confolation into a heart that is racked 
 " with doubts and difquiets, and dares neither 
 " diitruft thy mercy, nor rely on thy favour." 
 It is revelation that properly deicribes the na- 
 ture, and affures us of the efhca.cy of true re- 
 pentance. Thefe important and confolatcry 
 docirines are difplaycd to us in the inftance VvC 
 are now confidering. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XVI. 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 36 44. 
 
 Then Cometh J ef us with them imto a fhce c^lkdGeth- 
 J'emane^ arid faith to his difciphs^ Jii ye here^ 
 while I go and pray yonder. And he took with him 
 Peter and the two fons of Zehedee^ and began to 
 he forrowfiil^ and very heavy. Theji Jaith he unto 
 them^ My foul is exceeding forrowful^ even unto 
 death : tarry ye here., and watcn with me. And 
 he went a little further .^ and fell on kisface^ and 
 prayed., faying., my Father., if it he pojihle., let 
 this cup pafs from me : nevertlielefs., not as Iwill^ 
 but as thou wilt. And lie cometh to the df'ciples^ 
 and fndeth them afleep^ and faith unto Peter ^ 
 TVhat., could ye not watch with me one hour ? 
 Watch a?idpray^ that ye enter not into temptation : 
 the fpirit indeed is willi?ig, but thejlefh is weak. 
 He went away again the fecond time, arid prayed., 
 faying., my Father., if this cup may not pafs 
 away from me., except I drink it., thy will be done. 
 And he came and found them afleep again : for 
 their eyes were heavy. And lie left them., and 
 went away again, a-nd prayed the third time., fiyi^S 
 the fame words, 
 
 S 2 THOUGH 
 
26o SERMON XVI. 
 
 A HOUGH it be univerfa,IIy acknowledged, 
 .that the exaiiiple of Chrii^ is intended for tlie imi-. 
 tation of Chriiiians, yet we feldom take fufficient 
 pains to dehneate the feveral virtues of his hfe, 
 and to imprefs our own hearts with a fenfe of 
 their dignity and importance. The folenm infti- 
 tutions of rehgion, however, have a dire«ft tenden- 
 cv to bring thefe objeds to our view ; and the 
 infilling on them, when we meet for pubh'c wor- 
 fhip, mufl: probably have the advantage of falling 
 in Vvith the natural current of our feelings and 
 fcntiments. 
 
 The knowledge of the charaders of thofe per- 
 fons whom hiftory reprefents to us, is chiefly deri- 
 ved from obferving the manner in which they 
 a(fled in the capital and moft interefting fcenes of 
 life. In thefe the leading qualities of the mind 
 concenter, and exert themfelves; and they are 
 marked fo diftindly, and reprefented, as it were, 
 fo luminoufly, that we can afcertain them with 
 precifion. But of all the circumilances in which 
 man can be placed, that of calamity and afflidion 
 proves mofl: diredly the vigour and the difpofitions 
 of his mind ; and fuch as this fituation difcovers 
 him to be, fach he generally is. 
 
 The paffage of fcripture which 1 have now 
 read, reprefents our Saviour overwhelmed with 
 fuch a load of forrow and fufFering, and overpow- 
 ered with fuch a variety of melancholy profpeds, 
 that, fuppofing the truth of his hiftory, even his 
 enemies cannot fail to believe, that upon this oc- 
 
 cafion, 
 
SERMON XVI. 261 
 
 cafion, the natural and the genuine feelings of his 
 mind muft have broke forth, and that now, when 
 all art niuft have been difconcerted, he truly ap- 
 peared what he adually was. Every word there- 
 fore which he fpeaks, and every emotion he dif- 
 covers, Ikongly indicates the nature of his cha- 
 rader, and, as it were, fets the feal to it. The 
 former tranfadions of his life muft be tried by this 
 touchftoncj and in every inftance wherein they 
 correfpond to what he fpoke and aded in thefe 
 critical moments, we muft confider them as the 
 exhibitions of an uniform and confiftent charader. 
 But before we enter on this view* of our fubjedl, 
 let us attend to the preceding part of the evange- 
 lift's narration, and to the fads that are here re- 
 prefented to us. 
 
 As the time of our Saviour's fufFering drew 
 near, he gave more dire«ft intimations of it to his 
 followers, and pointed out the very perfon who 
 was to betray him into the hands of finners. Af- 
 ter the inftitution of his fupper, he had departed 
 with his difciples to the Mount of Olives, where 
 he again declares to them his own impending fuf- 
 ferings, the general confternatiou in which they 
 fhould be involved, and their defertion that was 
 to enfue. After this, our text informs us, that 
 he went to Gethfemane, and his particular at- 
 tachment and aftcdion engaging liim to make 
 choice of fome of the difciples for companions in 
 that mournful hour which was to follow, he ac- 
 cordingly feleded Peter, and James, and John, 
 and retired with them to a fmall diftance. To 
 them he opened the calamitous and diftreifed 
 
 ftate 
 
nez SERMON XVI. 
 
 ftate of his mind, in that plain and unaffected 
 language which is fo natural to diflrefs. My 
 J'oul^ fays he, is exceedi?ig jorroivful^ even imto 
 death. And v.hile he knew that it was appointed 
 for him to tread the wineprejs alone ^ and that of the 
 people there Jhoidd he nojie with him ^, yet the infir- 
 mity of nature fo far operated as to make him hope 
 for fome afiiitance from the prefence and fympa- 
 thy of his friends. Fie therefore entreats them 
 to tarry, and to watch with him. Then he went 
 a little fartlier, and in the bitternefs of his foul, 
 he fell on his face, and implored his father's aid, 
 in thefe words, equally exprelTive of his piety and 
 his ref gnation, his fufferings and his fortitude ; 
 Father^ if it be poffibk^ let this cup pafs from me : 
 neverthelejs, not as I will^ but as thou wilt. Upon 
 returning to his difciples, he finds them afleep ; 
 and adcieiTmg himfeif to Peter, who, but a little 
 before, had fo confidently prom i fed upon the fi- 
 delity and fteadiriefs of his fervice, What^ fays he, 
 could 7iot ye wc^tci with me one hour ^ At the fame 
 time he gives a gracious admonition againft any 
 future dcfet^joii, and points out the means of 
 avoiding it, JVatch and pray ^ that ye enter not into 
 tef-iiptjticn : and with the fame mildnefs and be- 
 nignity which ever diflinguiu^ed his character, he 
 commends their afif^dion, and palliates their error. 
 The fpirit indeed is willing^ but thejlefn is weak. 
 In the utmofi agony of mind which forced the 
 fweat through every pore like great drops of 
 blood, as Luke informs us, he reiterates the fame 
 
 ^ ISAIAH Ixiii. 3. 
 
 fervent 
 
SERMON XVI. a^j 
 
 fervent and refigned prayer, and again finding the 
 difciples afleep, he retires the third time, and prays 
 to his father, ufing the fame words. 
 
 From what caufes this forrow proceeded, 
 which our Redeemer felt, is not prccifely faid. 
 But the whole hiftory fliews us that it was ex- 
 treme and overwhelming. It certainly confifted 
 chieiiy in thofe views which arife from a dark and 
 depreffed itate of mind, and which the foul that 
 feels, knows to be more poignant than all the tor- 
 tures that can be inflided on the body. The fu- 
 ture calamities of a city whofe overthrow he fre- 
 quently laments in fuch pathetic terms, the 
 wretched ftate of a periihing w^orld, the inconfide- 
 rable eifeds his divine inftrudicns had hitherto 
 produced, the falfenefs of a pretended friend, the 
 infirmity of a few feled difciples; all perhaps 
 wrought upon his compafTionate heart, and fill- 
 ed him with inexprelfible anguifh. The forefight 
 of fufferings which humanity fhrinks from, of 
 pangs which an imagination full of fenfibility 
 clothes with more terror than the a(f^ual fufferings 
 inflid, was perhaps too powerful to be borne in 
 that fituation in which thefe ideas prefented them- 
 felves. Add to all thefe, the confcioufnefs that 
 thofe divine aids on which he had always depend- 
 ed, and which had been fo liberally communica- 
 ted, were now for a feafon withdrawn ; and that 
 alone, and nnfupported, he felt himfelf left to 
 ftruggle with all the bitternefs of death ; I fay, 
 let us attend to thefe things, and perhaps we may 
 have fome conception of that difmal ftate, in 
 which our Saviour uttered this prayer j Father^ if 
 
 it 
 
264 SERMON XVL 
 
 // be pofpble^ let this cup depart from me : 7i ever the- 
 lejs^ not. as Iiscill^ hut as thou w'lt ; upon which, as 
 Luke informs us, an interpofition of providence 
 became neceffary, and an angel was fent from hea- 
 ven to ftrengthen him. It is fuflicient to mention, 
 for it would be fuperfluous to prove, that by the 
 firft exprefiion, Father^ if it he pojfhk^ is meant, 
 not if the requefl I now make is within the verge 
 of Omnipotence, but if it is confifient with the 
 plan of the divine government, and the great de- 
 iign of my miffion into the world. That fevere 
 depreffion of mind which he prefently felt, and 
 the fufFerings he was fo foon to undergo, are evi- 
 dently what he meant by that cup which he prays 
 to be removed from him. The lot of human life 
 in general may be figuratively expreffed by a cup ; 
 and the figure is fo frequent in fcripture, and fo 
 appofite indeed of itfelf, that it mufl be readily 
 apprehended. Thus the pfalmift, to denote the 
 felicity of his fituation, ufes the exprelTion, My 
 tup runneth over ^, And our Saviour, w^hen he 
 rebukes the fons of Zebedee for their intemperate 
 requeft, does it in thefe terms, Are ye able to drink 
 of the cup which I [hall drink of^"^ That is, to par- 
 take of the fufFerings which 1 muft endure. 
 
 Ha VI N G faid thus much in explication of the 
 pafTage now under confideration, I proceed to my 
 principal defiga in this difcourfe, to wit, to con- 
 lider thofr virtues in the character of Chrift which 
 are here exhibited to us, and to illuflrate them 
 
 ^ PSALM XXiii. 5. ^ MATTHEW XX. 22. 
 
 from- 
 
SERMON XV I. 265 
 
 Irom the correfponding pafTages of his hfe. That 
 I may not engage in too wild a field, I fhall con- 
 fine myfelf to the confideration of thofe features c/ 
 our Saviour's character which appear in this paf- 
 fage in the moft confpicuous light ; I mean his 
 piety, his refignation, and his fortitude : And of 
 thefe I fhall difcourfe in the order I have now 
 mentioned them. 
 
 First, The piety of our Saviour's heart is here 
 difcovered in the ftrongeft light. The immediate 
 recourfe he has to prayer in this diftrefsful fituati- 
 on, the humble proitration he ufed, the fervour 
 of his addrefs, and the tenor of it, all confpire to 
 fliew that he was adiuated by the trueft fenfe of 
 the divine perfcdions, and the veneration that is 
 due to them. And indeed, if we can be faid to 
 perceive the principal qualities of a perfon's cha- 
 racter, who gave a perfedt pattern of fo many 
 virtues, we may pronounce them to be, a perpe- 
 tual imprelhon of the divine perfedions and go- 
 vernment, and a humane and generous feeling for 
 the diftreffes of mankind. The firft difcovers 
 itfelf by all the expreifions of veneration and zeal 
 which the difterent circumftances of his life gave 
 occafion to, and in the frequent ads of a rational 
 and elevated devotion. All the anfwers which he 
 gave at that time, when he was led up into the 
 wildernefs to be tempted of the devil, are plainly 
 charaderiitical of this difpofition. When the 
 tempter deiired a proof of his being the Son of 
 God, by commanding I he liones to become bread, 
 he replies ; // is written^ man Jhall not Ihe by bread 
 ahfic^ but by every word that proceedeth out of the 
 
 mouth 
 
266 SERMON XVI. 
 
 Tmuth of God ". Upon a fccond effort to fcduce 
 him, by a quotation from fcripture, he both fhews 
 his own piety, and infinuates a reprehenfion of 
 the mahcious employment of this wicked fpirit. 
 Jt is written^ Thou /halt not tempt the Lord thy 
 God^. The laft anfwer he gives difcovers entire- 
 ly the fame temper. Thou /kali wor/Iitp^ fays he, 
 the Lord thy God^ and him only /halt thou ferve^. 
 In his fermon on the mount, which contains the 
 fum of chriftian morals, there is this remarkable 
 difference from every other fyftem, that the duty 
 of piety is not only recommended as an effential 
 branch of morality, but that every other duty is 
 infifted upon as flowing from or dependent upon 
 it ; and that in the performance of every one of 
 them, we are called to conflder ourfelves as crea- 
 tures related to the fupreme Being, anfwerable to 
 him for our condud, and under the ftridefl obli- 
 2;ation to promote his glory. The divine prayer 
 which he taught his difciples is a perfed model of 
 devout expreffion. It is impolfible to read it with 
 attention without perceiving that it breaths the 
 fentiments of a heart under this particular impref- 
 fion, that the happinefs of human creatures arifes 
 principally from the advancement and completion 
 of the divine counfels. When his difciples had 
 taken fome offence at feeing him converfe with 
 the Samaritan woman ^ from a fmall incident 
 which foon followed, he lays hold of an opportu- 
 nity both of redifying their miffakes, and of in- 
 forming them of the great objed he had in view. 
 
 "matt. iv. 4. ^MATT. iv. 7 O. " MATT. iv. 7. 
 
 When 
 
SERMON XVL 267 
 
 When they prayed him^ laying, Mafter^ eat. I 
 have meat^ fays he, to eat that ye know not of. For 
 my meat is to do the will of him that fent me^ and to 
 Jinijk his work ^. As by the appointment of pro- 
 vidence, food is neceffary for invigorating our 
 bodies, and for enabhng us to perform the duties 
 of ordinary hfe; fo the exertions of piety, and 
 the fpreading its interefts, feemed effential not 
 only to the fehcity, but alfo to the exiftence of 
 the Son of God. 
 
 There is another very affeding paffage in the 
 life of Chrilt, which evinces in a ftriking manner 
 the reahty, the extent and the force of this prin- 
 ciple of piety. While he was talking to the peo- 
 ple, his mother and his brethren ftood without, 
 defiring to fpeak with him. Being informed of 
 this, he anfwered, and faid to him that told him, 
 Who is my mother^ and who are my brethren I* ylnd 
 he Jlrctched forth his hands to his difcipks^ and faid^ 
 Behold 7ny mother and my brethren. For whojoever 
 doth the will of my heavenly Father., the fame is my 
 brothar and Jijier and mother ". And to the fame 
 purpofe, when a certain woman, ftruck with the 
 divinity of his difcourfes, cried out, Bleffed is the 
 womb that bare ye., and the paps that gave thee fuck., 
 he anfwers, T^ea rather blefjed are they that hear the 
 word of God and do it ^ Even thofe relations 
 which generally form the clofeft union, and which 
 as appears from fevcral incidents in our Saviour's 
 
 G 
 
 JOHIf iv, 27 — 35. " MATTHEW Xxii. 46. 
 ^ LUKE Xi. 27, 2S. 
 
 life. 
 
268 SERMON XVI. 
 
 Hfe, he was far from overlooking, were ft ill infe- 
 rior to the connexion formed by the prevalence of 
 virtuous and devout difpofitions. It is remarkable 
 too, that when any emotion of his heart is excited, 
 it naturally mingles and aifociates with that pre-^ 
 vailing fpirit of piety, which feems ftill to have 
 been predominant. . 
 
 Upon one occafion, when he faw the multi- 
 tudes, we are told, he was moved with compaffion 
 towards them^ hecaufe they fainted^ and were flatter-^ 
 ed abroad as^/Iieep having nojhepherd. Then faith he 
 to his difciples, the harveft truly is pie fit eons ^ but the 
 labourers are Jew. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the 
 harvefi that he will fend forth labourers into his har- 
 veft \ The afperity with which he rebukes the 
 fcribes and pharifees, appears to have proceeded 
 from the fame principle. They were not only 
 2,uilty of grofs immoralities, but they pradifed 
 them under the cloak of religion ; and it was this 
 circumftance, which a pious mind muft regard 
 with indignation, that gave rife to all that feverity 
 of cenfure, which exceeds the ufual bounds of his 
 mildnefs and moderation. 
 
 I MIGHT confirm the fame truth, and (hew the 
 prevalence of the principle of piety in our Saviour's 
 mind, from the ftrain of feveral of his parables, 
 which are evidently intended to give men juft 
 ideas of the divine nature and government, to 
 inculcate the importance of thefe tru1:hs, and to 
 
 '^ MATTHEW ix. 36, 37, 38. 
 
 point 
 
SERMON XVI. z69 
 
 point out the eftimation which the belief of them 
 bellows on human charaders. Our Saviour makes 
 this application of the parable of the loft iTieep, 
 and the loft piece of (ilver. It is equally obvious 
 in that of the prodigal fon : and it is plain, that 
 the principal circumftance which rendered the 
 prayer of the publican more acceptable than that 
 of the pharifee, arofe from thejuft conceptions he 
 entertained of the purity and pertcdion of the 
 fupreme Being. 
 
 I SHALL nowconftder, as an illuftratlonof this 
 fubjedt, fome of the particular ads of devotion 
 which are recorded of our Saviour in the hittory 
 of the gofpel. It is to be remembered, that there 
 are but a few of our Saviour's fayings and adions 
 committed to writing : for if they fhould all be 
 mentioned, as the apoftle John expreftes himfelf, 
 Ifuppole that even the ivorld itfelf could not contain 
 the hooks that Jhould he written ^. But there is a 
 fufficient number of fads for determining precifely 
 his charader ; and the ads of devotion that are 
 tranfmitted to us fully prove the fpirit by which 
 he was aduated. The firft prayer recorded by 
 the evangel ift Matthew, is that which he offers 
 up after having lamented the inattention and 
 hardheartednefs of thofe cities, in which he had 
 performed fo many mighty works. I thank thee^ 
 Father, Lord of heaven and earth, hecaufe thou 
 haft hid thefe things from the wife and prudent, and 
 hafl revealed them luito babes. Even fo. Father, 
 
 ^ JOHN Xxi. 25. 
 
 for 
 
270 SERMON XVr. 
 
 for fo it feemed good in thy Jight ". Can words ex- 
 prefs more flrongly a deep impreffion of the divine 
 government, and an acquielcence accompanied 
 with gratitude in ail its determinations. 
 
 When our Saviour came to the tomb of Laza- 
 rus, we perceive by the anfwer which he gave 
 Martha, that the glory of God was the principal 
 obje(^ of his confideratjon, from the miracle he 
 was about to perform, ^aid I not to thee^ that if 
 thou •woiildft believe^ thou fioiildji fee the glory of 
 God ^ And when the ftone was removed, he lift 
 up his eyes and faid, Fat her ^ I thank thee^ that 
 thou haft heard me^ and I know that thou hearefi me ^ 
 always ; hut for their fakes I faid it^ who f and by^ 
 that they may believe that thou haft fent me ^, The 
 exultation here expreffed in the confcioufnefs of 
 the divine favour is evident j and when we con- 
 fider, that a particular event which, in itfelf, 
 could to our Saviour be nothing extraordinary, 
 but which was fo well adapted for impreifing the 
 fpedators with a belief of his divine m.ifiion, the 
 great mean of promoting the glory o^f God among 
 mankind ; when we confider, I fay, that this 
 event was the immediate obje(5t in view, we fhall 
 readily difcern the propriety of the latter part of 
 this prayer. The longeft ad of devotion that the 
 fcripture records of him, is that contained in the 
 feventeenth chapter of John's gofpel. If there 
 were no other, furely this would fully evince the 
 warmth of his devotional feelings, his ardent zeal 
 
 *^ MATT. Xi. 25, 26. "JOHN xi. 40, 4I, 42. 
 
 for 
 
SERMON XVI. 271 
 
 for his father's glory, and his fupreme veneration 
 of his perfeclions. The prayer contained in the 
 paifige which I have taken for the foundation of 
 this difcourfe, was repeated no lefs than three 
 times; and it is put up v^ith that earneiinefs, 
 which touches the heart in fuch a manner as the 
 longeft comment upon it could not accompHili. 
 The line betwixt agonizing forrow and defpo,n- 
 dency of Qiind, is precifelv marked ; and the re- 
 iteration of the fame petiti .n, though his Father 
 did not fee proper to grant his requefl, proves be- 
 yond contradidion, that no difappointment could 
 Ihake the flrength of that piety which had grown 
 from his earliest years, and which ail the adverfi- 
 ties of life had tended but to con ir!n When we 
 confider, in conjuniftion with all thefe, the regu- 
 lar and ftated benedictions he ufed, when he was 
 receiving the gifts of providence, or communica- 
 ting them to others -, the unwearied adJivity he 
 employed in fixing in the minds of human crea- 
 tures a fenfe of the importance of religious princi- 
 ples; thofe frequent retirements from the world 
 for purpofes of devotion, after one might have 
 fuppofed that he was exhaufted by the public mi- 
 nistrations of his office ; his fpending whole nights 
 in prayer, and his riiing often before day-break to 
 the fame employment : when v, e confider, I fay, 
 all thefe, they will certainly afford fuch proofs of 
 the piety and the devotional fpirit of the Son of 
 God, as mull tend flrongly to affed the heart. 
 
 Secondly, Let us attend to that refignation of 
 mind which is exemplified in this pafTage of holy 
 writ, and marked in many other incidents of our 
 
 Saviour's 
 
272 SERMON XVI. 
 
 Saviour's life, Refignation arifes fo naturally 
 from a fpirit of piety, and is fo infeparably con- 
 neded with it, that we may view it as the ofF- 
 fpring of this refpedable parent ; or perhaps we 
 may rather confider them as kindred virtues, mu- 
 tually borrowing from, and lending luftre to one 
 another. Refignation fuppofes a ftate of life, in 
 which there are various calamities and afflidions : 
 and the greater mixture there is of thefc, the 
 greater fcope is given for the exercife of this vir- 
 tue, w'hich implies a calm and chearful fubmilfi- 
 on to the will of God under the moft adverfe dif- 
 penfations of his providence. As our Saviour 
 was a man of forrams^ and acquainted 'with grief 
 and was expofed to a fcene of fufFering, that can 
 in no refpedt be paralleled, there was the arapleft 
 fcope for the exertion of this virtue : and accord- 
 ingly no feature of his charader is more plainly or 
 difiindly difcovered. 
 
 It is to be remarked that virtue in general is 
 by no means oftentatious, and the more fmcere 
 and exalted the virtue is, the lefs it will affed to 
 difplay itfelf to the beft advantage. The pedant 
 is always in quell of an opportunity to fhine by a 
 multiplicity of w^ords without knowledge, while 
 the man of real abilities never difcovers them in 
 an improper manner. You all know that the 
 fhallow ftream murmurs along, while the motion 
 of the deep river is unheard and unobferved. A 
 formal exhibition of any clafs of virtues in our 
 Saviour's life, though more obvious, muft have 
 been lefs natural, lefs ftriking, and lefs efFedual 
 for all the purpofes of human reformation. We 
 
 are 
 
SERMON XVI. 273 
 
 are in general therefore left to colled them as they 
 occurred in thofe various incidents which gave 
 proper opportunities for exempHfying them. The 
 firft proof of his refignation arifes from that filent 
 and compofed manner with which he bears the 
 various ills of human life, equally remote from 
 the infcnfibility of the ftoic, and the pride of the 
 cynic. When he had fafted fo long, that the 
 powers of nature muft have been greatly depreffed, 
 and was afterwards expo fed to a fevere tempta- 
 tion, he utters no repining exprefiion. It is inci- 
 dentally and without the leaft complaint, when 
 juflice feemed to require it, that he paints fo 
 flrongly the poverty and diftrefs of his external 
 circumftances. The foxes have holes ^ and the birds 
 of the air have nejls^ hut the Son of man hath 
 7iot vjhere to lay his head. While he travels 
 through Judea workina; the will of his Father, we 
 hear no complaint of the fultry fun by day, nor 
 the unwholeibme fogs by night, of the rough 
 roads, or fteep mountains, the rapid rivers, or 
 dangerous lakes. In the execution of his office, 
 though it was plain he was not infenlible of thofe 
 hardiliips he was called to undergo, yet we per- 
 ceive no indication of oeevillinefs or difcontent. 
 He ufes no unbecoming fliifts to avoid adverfity, 
 nor any unworthy means to court profperity. 
 On the other hand, he feems to con(ider all at- 
 tention to every human accommodation beneatli 
 his notice, in as far as it would have taken up fo 
 much of that precious time which was folely de-^ 
 voted to the eternal interefts of mankind. I ap^ 
 peal to thofe wlio know the world, whether this 
 Q,cncral manner of life, joined to that perpetual 
 
 T fenfe 
 
274 SERMON XVI. 
 
 fenfe of divine things that was upon his mind, 
 does not prove a general refignation of temper 
 with more force, and with lefs fufpicion than a 
 thoiifand declarations could have done. But the 
 occurrences of our Saviour's hfe were fo various, 
 and fome of them of fuch a particular nature, that 
 in thefe the declarations of his refignation became 
 perfedly natural and unfufpicious, and the ex- 
 emplification of it altogether proper and confpicu- 
 Dus. There cannot be a more appofite inftance 
 to cur prefent purpofe than that which is exhi- 
 bited in the text. Under the deepeft agony of 
 mind, and while he fufi:ers a fpecies of diftrefs 
 W'hich he had never before felt in fo great a de- 
 gree, the powers of nature are ready to fail : he 
 almoft recoils from the hour for which he had 
 come into the world : he falls on his face, and 
 prays that the cup might pafs from him : but 
 though the confli£l was terrible, and the profpedt 
 overwhelming, he immediately adds, Neverthekfsy 
 not as I will^ but as thou wiit^ if this cup inaji not 
 pafs away except I drink it^ thy will he done. IMy 
 requeft is fervent, becaufe my fufi:ering is extreme; 
 but my fenfe of refignation is ftill more powerful 
 than my averfion to pain. Can language exprefs 
 what h.:" felt, or defcribc the fubmiifion of his foul? 
 Let humanity here drop a tear, and the heart 
 formed for the admiration of fufifering virtue re- 
 vere his refignation, 
 
 A VERY fhort time after he exhibits another 
 ftriking inflance of the fame temper. When the 
 zeal of Peter induced him to draw his fv^ord in 
 his mafter's defence, and to fmite the fervant of 
 
 the 
 
SERMON XVI. 275 
 
 the high-prlefl: ; he defires him to put his fword 
 up again into its place, and in the ftrongeft terms 
 expreffes his entire acquiefcence in the fufFerings 
 dellined for him by the counfels of the Almighty. 
 Tne cup^ fays he, that my father has given me to 
 drinks Jhall I not drink it f The evangehft 
 Matthew hkewife records another faying of his 
 upon this occafion, which equally proves the 
 cahn refienation of his foul. Thankc/i thou that I 
 cannot ?iow pray to my Father^ and he /hall pre fently 
 give me more than twelve legions of angels ? But 
 then how fhall the fcript lire s he fulfi'hd^ t.uit thus it 
 muft be*^? The fame .fpirit is alfo fhewn in that 
 fevere reproof which our Saviour gave to Peter 
 upon a former occafion. For when he foretold 
 his fufferings, this difciple faid to him, Be it far 
 from thee^ Lord ; this fhall not he unto thee. But 
 inflead of approving an anfwer that in fome mea-r 
 fure difcovered affetftion, he turned to him and 
 faid, Get thee behind me^ fatan^ thou art an offejice 
 unto me^ for thou favour eft not the things that he of 
 God^ but thof'e that he of men ^ And to mention 
 only one other particular inftance which accompa- 
 nied the lail fcene of his life : A little after having 
 borne with incredible patience the tortures of his 
 body and the anguifh of his mind, he ftill preferv- 
 ed the union betwixt foul and body : and it was 
 not till he perceived all the counfels of God ac- 
 complillied that he cried out, // is finifhed^ and 
 then bowed his he^d and refigned his foul into 
 
 " MATTII. XXvii. 53, 54. ^ MATTH. Xvi. 22, 23. 
 
 T 2 the 
 
?.76 -SERMON XV I. 
 
 the hands of that God to whom he had tom-? 
 mended it. 
 
 Thirdly, Let us conflder the fortitude which 
 our Saviour always difcovered under the preffure 
 of the fevereft affiidions. Fortitude is fo rouch 
 alhed to refignation, that though perhaps we forae- 
 times ubftrve the latter in people of a foft and 
 tender caft, who cannot properly be faid to polTefs 
 the former; yet the trium.ph and perfedion of 
 refignation always fuppofes an unfhaken fortitude 
 and intrepidity ol mJnd. According'y all the il- 
 luftrations I have ufed upon the former topic of 
 difcourfe might with propriety be produced as 
 proofs of the fortitude of our Saviour's mind. The 
 coincidence of the fentiments of fortitude and re- 
 fignation, with refped to his charader, appears 
 the more imqucfiionable from this confidcration, 
 that he was able to have avoided the fufferings he 
 endured by an exertion of that intrinfic power 
 which was permanent in him ; and that the fole 
 caufe of his fufFcring the greatefl load of calami- 
 ties which ever fell to the lot of one man, arofe 
 from his own native fuperiority of mind, and his 
 luilimited fubmif^ion to his Father's will. Thus 
 he tells us himfelf. No man iaheth my life from. 
 me ; / have power to lay it down^ and I have power to 
 take it again ^^: and he who could have obtained 
 more than twelve legions of ai:gels fro?n his father^ 
 was able to have ftruck dead 'vith a word that 
 armed, lawlefs multitude which came out of Je- 
 
 ^JOHN X. 1 8. 
 
 rufalem 
 
SERMON XVI. 277 
 
 rufalem to apprehend him. The endurance there- 
 fore of calamities proves a degree of fortitude in 
 our Saviour's mind, in fome mcafure diffimilar, 
 and in every refped fuperior to that which was 
 ever exhibited by any other perfon. And from 
 what has now been remarked, it will appear how 
 plain an example of this virtue is difcovered to 
 us in tile hirtory now before us. Fortitude by no 
 means implies an infeniibility to the evils which 
 befal us : on the other hand, wherever this infen- 
 iibility takes place, the exercife of fortitude m.u'l: 
 be entirely excluded. It is no lefs indifpu tabic 
 that the greater fhare of fenfibility we pofleTs, the 
 greater merit arifes from a condud decent and 
 proper under diftrefs and afHidion. Now it ap- 
 pears to me, that this palTage equally lliews the 
 ienfibility of our Saviour's mind, the height of his 
 diftrefs, and his refolution of enduring the utmoft 
 extremity, rather than counteracft the ends, or di- 
 minifh the dignity of his obedience. 
 
 I saALL but juft mention two or three other 
 inftances which ihew in a flriking lignt the virtue 
 now under our confideration. Fortitude not only 
 difcovers itfelf in the adual bearing of afflii^ions, 
 but in the general turn of our behaviour to thole 
 who polTefs power and fuperior iniluence, and in 
 whofe hands are the means of infliding pimilli- 
 ments, and taking vengeance for fuppofed inju- 
 ries. In this view the manner of our Saviour's 
 behaviour to the fcribes and pharifees, v/ho were 
 the moft powerful and popular leaders of their 
 time, and whofe principal objed was evidently the 
 prefervation of their power, itrongly indicates this 
 
 difpofition. 
 
278 S E R M O N XVL 
 
 difpofition. Inflead of foliciting their favour by 
 direct praifes, or even by dubious filence ; there 
 is no let of meij, againft whom he ufes the feve- 
 rity of cenfure with equal keennefs. Every rea- 
 der tolerably acquainted witli the hiftory of the 
 gufpel will perceive the jui^ice of this remark. 
 I ILall only appeal to the twelfth and twenty-third 
 chapters of Matthew's gofpel, and the correfpon- 
 ding places in the other evangelifts. In the fame 
 light we muft confider that f@vere reply which our 
 Saviour gives to the pharifees, when certain of 
 them came to him, and faid, Get thet out^ a?7d de-- 
 part kence^ for Herod ijuill kill thee, Inftead of a 
 foothing or an evafive anfwer, which coniidering 
 the povvcr and difpofition of Herod, could not 
 perhaps have been cenfured, Go ye, fays he, ^W 
 tf/l that fox, behold I caft out devils to-day and to- 
 morrow^ arid the third day Ifiall he perfeSled ^. 
 
 But there is nothing can fet this virtue of our 
 Saviour in a ftronger point of view than his beha- 
 viour when the multitude, led on by Judas, came 
 out armed with fwords and ftaves, and at a time 
 of darknefs too, which, as it is moft fuited to the 
 purpofes of malice and cruelty, is alfo moft apt to 
 raife timi^ty, for they had brought with them, 
 as the evangelift John exprefly mentions, lanterns 
 and torches. His condud upon this occafion is 
 thronibout fo noble and magnanimous, that I am 
 fenfibie all words are unequal to my conception 
 of its greatnefs. When Judas approached and 
 
 ^ LUKE xiii. 31, 32. 
 
 faid, 
 
SERMON XVL 279 
 
 faid, Hciil^ majfcr^ and kiffed him^ he calmly re- 
 plies, FricTid^ wlicrtfore art thou come .^ It was no 
 wonder that all the efFrontery of guilt was filcnced 
 by the fedate majefty and meeknefs of divine vir- 
 tue. Accordingly we read of no anfwer made by 
 his revolted difciple at that period, tho' as his be- 
 loved difciple tells us, he kne-jo all things that fhould 
 come upon him^ yet he ft epped forth to the multitude^ 
 and Jaid^ Whom feck ye ^ When they replied, 
 Jefus of Nazareth. Fie anfwers, / dm he. As 
 J'oon as he had faid^ I am he., fays John, the multi- 
 tude went backward., and fell to the grow^d. The 
 intrepidity of his reply appeared fo aftonifhing, 
 that the hearts of the cr; ^el and mercilefs w^ere al- 
 moft changed : and had he been anxious to fave 
 his life, no miracle would have been neceiTary to 
 have diverted their purpofe. Then he afks them 
 again, Whom feek ye? And when they faid, 
 Jejns of Nazareth., he anfwered, / have told you 
 that I am he -, if therefore you jeek nte^ let thefe go 
 their way ^. The brave are ever merciful and 
 companionate. And while Jefus himlelf meets 
 fuffering with a daring and unftiaken mind, he 
 difcovcrs the moft amiable attention to his follow- 
 ers, and that too in circumftances in which even 
 a great mind might have been properly cngrofTcd 
 with its own concerns. It truly appears to me, 
 that the mere fuperiority and intrepidity of our 
 Saviour's condad would have naturally produced 
 fuch an effed upon the multitude, as to have fent 
 them away without accompliiliing their purpofe, 
 
 "" JOHN xviii. 4 — 6. 
 
 kd 
 
28o SERMON XVI. 
 
 had it not been for the zealous interpofition of 
 Peter, which gave them time to recover from 
 their furprize, perhaps inflamed them anew, and 
 beflowed fufficient c< iirage to lead the unrefifting 
 Jefus away. This difconrfe would -idmit of much 
 practical improvement, if I had time to enlarge^ 
 i:non it. But I fliall contrad what 1 have to fay 
 into as narrow a compafs as poffible. 
 
 In the firft place, my brethren, ivhat thifik ye 
 of Chn'/i ^ Do not tfie exalted virtues which he 
 pradlifed, iliew that he is the Son of the living 
 God ? Behold the admired wifb of the heathen 
 fulfilled : Virtue itfelf aifuming a human fhape, 
 and dwelling among men. This is t' e divinity 
 fct up in our temples. To him bow your knees, 
 and to him offer your hearts. 
 
 Secondly, From this particular delineation of 
 fome of the virtues which were fo confpicuous in 
 the life of Chrirt, let us learn not only a general 
 admiration of thefe virtues, but let us afpire after 
 the pradice of them in the fimilar inftances of life 
 and condu6t in which the providence of God may 
 place us. The refped we pay to the qualities of 
 the divine life, is by far of too general a nature. 
 We too rarely defcend to particulars. Who is the 
 man that profits moft by tnis difcourfe ? He who 
 goes away applauding a devout temper? Or he 
 who forms the refolution of becoming more de- 
 vout, arid puts his refolutions into pradice ? The 
 latter alone is the profitable hearer. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XVII. 
 
 John xix. 30. 
 
 JVhen Jcfiis therefore had received the vinegar^ he 
 faid^ It is Jinijhed: and he lowed his head^ and 
 gave up the ghofl. 
 
 A, 
 
 .MONG the infinitely various charaders of 
 men, there are a few who are attentive to whatever 
 feems to be ferious and important; there are 
 many to whofe reafon we fpeak in vain, if we 
 cannot intereft their hearts ; there are fome of fo 
 foft a mold, that whatever has the leaft degree of 
 tendernefs melts and affcds them, while others 
 can fee and hear what is quite overpowering to 
 fuch, and ftill remain unmoved. When we view 
 men in a particular light, the variety of their cha- 
 raders, propenfities, inclinations, and capacities 
 is amazing. When we furvey them in a differ- 
 ent point of view, their refemblance is as evident 
 and ftriking. Their refemblance confifts in their 
 original powers and principles ; their difference 
 arifes from fituation, education, improvement, 
 and a great number both of known and latent 
 
 caufes. 
 
282 S E R M O N XVII. 
 
 caufes. From their variety it happens, that dif- 
 ferent objecfts affed different men ; from their re- 
 femblance it happens that feme things affed al- 
 inofl air men, though in different degrees. 
 
 The general propenfity of mankind to obferve 
 and regard the iaft words even of thofe who have 
 been no way remarkable in life, cannot fail to be 
 acknowledged j but this propenfity particularly 
 appears with regard to thofe who have a<flcd a 
 confpicuous part, or who are confidered by us as 
 our friends and benefacStors. The lafl words of 
 fuch imprefs the minds of mofl men in the flron- 
 gefi manner, and there is fcarcely one on whom 
 they do not produce fome effed. The words 
 themfelves, the occafion on which they are fpo- 
 ken, the circumftances with which they are at- 
 tended, the confequences which follow, naturally 
 excite fuch a variety of emotions, that fuppofing 
 a perfon to remain untouched by fome of them, 
 yet he feels the force of others. The verfe now 
 read, which contains the lafl words of our Saviour, 
 affords a variety of refieftions, which mufl prove 
 interefdng to every hearer. In treating of them I 
 propofe, in the firfl place, to confider the mean- 
 ing and import of this expreifion, It is fmjhed, 
 which our Saviour ufed before he bowed his head, 
 and gave up the ghoil. 2dly, I fliall confider the 
 peculiar light in which this expreffion, with the 
 confequence which immediately followed, difco- 
 vers our Saviour's character to us. 
 
 In the firft place : By this expreffion, It is ji- 
 mfhed., we may underfland our Saviour as deck- 
 ing 
 
SERMON XVII. 283 
 
 ring that the great plan of divine providence, 
 for which he was fent into the world, was ac- 
 compliflied. 
 
 Those who live in the world propofe to them- 
 felves various ends ; and we unavoidably confider 
 thofe ends, as objeds either of praife, or of difap- 
 probation. One aims at the gratification of his 
 appetites, and the enjoyment of his pleafures. 
 Another purfues riches, or makes ambition, and 
 the love of power, the guide of his life. Wc 
 cannot view thefe raen in the fame light with 
 thofe, who are fired with the love of virtue, of 
 their country, of mankind. We term fome ends, 
 mean and unworthy, unworthy of a rational crea- 
 ture like man; others laudable and becoming; 
 and fome truly great and heroic. It is farther to 
 be obferved, that we not only applaud the profe- 
 cution of an end that is good, but if it be profe- 
 cuted with a peculiar degree of fteadinefs, the 
 more juftly and highly it obtains our approbation. 
 It can fcarcely be faid of the worft, that they ne- 
 ver purfued a good end ; but how finifhed is that 
 charader, which never ftooped to any end that 
 was mean and unworthy ! The eye of the genera- 
 lity of men is captivated by every glaring objed:. 
 Objeds of this kind fometimes even attra6t the 
 heart, and divert the aim of the well-intentioned. 
 We can eafily apply to human life the fable which 
 reprefents one as obftruded in the profecution of a 
 race, by meeting with golden apples which were 
 induftrioufly thrown in the way. But amidil: all 
 the variety of polfible purfuits, it will be acknow- 
 ledged, that none can be accounted fo truly great 
 
 and 
 
284 S E R M O N XVII. 
 
 and heroic, or fo deferving of our ntmoft fleadi- 
 ncfs, as promoting the glory of God, and fulfilling 
 all the defigns of his providence. That this was 
 the end which our Saviour ever had in view ; and 
 that he purfued it with the moft unwearied fteadi- 
 nefs and attention, is evident to every one who 
 reads the gofpel. 
 
 A LITTLE after his entrance upon his public 
 miniftry, when his difciples afked him to take 
 fome meat, to fupport him under the fatigues 
 which he had endured, he takes occalion to in- 
 form them, that his meat was to do the imll of him 
 that fent him^ and to finiih his ivork ^ j and to the 
 fame purpofe he declares in another place, I came 
 down from heaven not to do my own will^ hut the will 
 of him that fent 7ne^, Anxious to fulfill the great 
 plan of providence, he always difcovers that it 
 was upper moft in his thoughts. / ?niif work the 
 work of him that fent me^ while it is day ; the ?light 
 Cometh when no man can work^. In that long pray- 
 er which he offers to his Father a little before his 
 crucifixion, recolleding what was already done, 
 and confcious of his fortitude to endure the laft 
 trial, he declares, / have glorified thee on earthy I 
 have fin i /lied the work which thou gavefi me to do ^\^ 
 When the zeal of one of his difciples would have 
 led him to oppofe the unjuft violence that was of- 
 fered to his Mafter, he admoni(hes him not to re- 
 lill the will of his Father, The cup which my Fa- 
 
 -'' JOHN iv. 34. ^ JOHN vi. 38. ^ JOHN ix. 4. 
 
 " joHX xvii. 4. 
 
 ther 
 
SERMON XVII. 285 
 
 the7\ fays he, hath given mc^ Jhall I not drmh :t ' ^ 
 If we attend to the adions of Jefus, we Qiuft al- 
 low that they were calculated for promoting the 
 ends of divine providence, as far ss we can con- 
 ceive any courfe of life to be fo. 
 
 When we confider things in a very general 
 view, it is true that every thing which happens 
 may be faid to conftitute a part of the plan of di- 
 vine providence. In this fenfe it is, t.^.at the wrath 
 of man ■praifeth God^ ^nd that he hath made all t .lings' 
 for himfelf', yea^ even the wicked for t.:e day ofo ev^'L 
 The natural courfe of things is nothing but certain 
 difpofitions of his appointment; and under the 
 plan of his adminiflration is comprehended both 
 the condud of the virtuous, and the behaviour of 
 the vicious. This we may call the natural plan of 
 his providence. 
 
 But when we attend to the moral perfections 
 of the Almighty, the declarations he hath given 
 in the conftitution of man, that he is the friend 
 and patron of virtue and of virtuous men, the 
 evidences he affords of his delire to promote the 
 kingdom of righteoufnefs among men, wq recog- 
 nize another plan of a more particular nature, in 
 which he fcems to be more immcr'iately interelted. 
 This we may call the moral plan of his provi- 
 dence. It is in this latter fenfe that the words 
 now under confideration arc to be underftood. 
 The mofl exalted piety, the mod extenlive bene- 
 
 ^ JOHN xviii. IL 
 
 volence, 
 
2S6 SERMON XVII. 
 
 volence, the greateft humility, the utmoft meek- 
 nefs, patience, and refignation j Lo ! thefe, and 
 every other virtue fhone forth with the greateft 
 luftre through the whole chara6ier of Jefus. The 
 uniform piety and purity of his condudl give an 
 irrefragable evidence to every declaration that he 
 madcj and force us, if we will not believe him- 
 felf, at leaft to believe him for his works' fake. 
 It is proper to be remarked, that the fcheme, or 
 plan of providence, and the view of accomplifli- 
 ing it, were objeds to the enlarged and compre- 
 henfive mind of the Son of God, in a degree and 
 manner different from that in which they can be 
 fuppofed to be objects to the wifeft and moft en- 
 lightened of his lollowers. The whole fchem.e 
 w'as at once in his eye; the beginning, the pro- 
 grefs, and the refult of it were fenfibly prefent to 
 him. He difcerned the connexions and depen- 
 dencies, and that infinite feries of events which it 
 comprehends. He faw the particular end, which 
 every adion of his life, and every inftance of his 
 fuffering promoted as precifely as one {killed in 
 works of human art, can difcern the particular 
 tendency and purpofe of every part of any piece 
 of workmanfhip that is prefented to him. Ever 
 intent upon fulfilling that part which was allotted 
 to him, jufl: before he refigned his fpirit, he cried 
 out, // isjifii/liec}. As it appears therefore, both 
 from the condu<fl and declarations of our Saviour, 
 that the promoting the glory of God, and the ful- 
 filling the plan appointed by his providence, was 
 his conftant and invariable aim while he dwelt 
 with mankind ; it is extremely reafonable to con- 
 clude, that by the lall words he uttered he intend- 
 ed 
 
SERMON XVII. 287 
 
 ed to fignify to the world, that this plan was now 
 accomplifhed j that the intentions of divine provi- 
 dence, as far as they regarded his miilion, his life, 
 his fufFcrings, his death, had their completion. 
 The general ftrain and tenor of the paffage con- 
 firms what has now been advanced. After this^ 
 J ejus knowing that all things were now accompli/he^^ 
 that the jcriptures migiit be fulfillecU faith^ I thirjl, 
 Nonio there was Jet a veffelfull ofvingar^ and they 
 jilled ajpujige with vinegar^ and tut it upo?i hyffop^ 
 wid put it to his mouth. When J ejus therefore had 
 received the vinegar^ he faid^ It isjinilhed: and he 
 bowed his head^ and gave up the ghoii ". But though 
 this is the moft general fenfe in which we are to 
 underftand thefe words, and though we cannot 
 alTign any other that is not comprehended in the 
 explication now given, yet they very rationally 
 admit of a more particular and confined inierpre- 
 tation. Let us therefore confider the more parti-r 
 cular parts of this great and extend ve plan, which 
 our Saviour might have had in view when he ex- 
 preffed himfelf in this manner. 
 
 I WOULD obferve then, in the fecond place, 
 that we may confider thefe words as a declaration 
 from our Saviour, that his fufferings were now 
 ended. As endued with the feelings of human 
 nature, fuch a long and continued courfe of fuf- 
 ferings, fuch an uninterrupted feries of the feve- 
 reft alHidion, could not fail to affed his fpirit 
 in the moft fcnfible manner. And the confciouf- 
 
 ^ JOHN xix. 28, 29, 30. 
 
 nefs 
 
288 SERMON XVII. 
 
 nefs that now the meafure of his forrows was ful^ 
 joined to the foreiight of his fpeedy dehverance 
 from them, made him cry out in thefe memorable 
 words, It is jinijhed. Thofe confolations, which 
 even the indulgent Father of mercy had by an ex- 
 traordinary difpenfation of providence withdrawn 
 from his own blamelefs Son, were' now in fome 
 meafure reftored. He commends his fpirit into his 
 hands. He faw the concluding fcene of that 
 wretchednefs to which he had voluntarily fub- 
 mitted, the bitter and the baleful cup of grief he 
 had drained to the very dregs. Still his unfhaken 
 foul with aftonifhing patience bore every fhock, 
 and encountered every foe ; and not all the ex- 
 tremity of pain and ignominy engaged him to quit 
 the body till he had experienced the laft indignity 
 which it was decreed for him to endure. But 
 when he received the vinegar, he declared that 
 all his forrov.s were now accompliflied, and by 
 one voluntary effort he refignsd that facred fpirit 
 which had exhibited fuch miraculous inftances of 
 every human and divine virtue. 
 
 In the third place : We may confider thefe 
 words as a declaration that the offences of men 
 were now expiated, and that the juf^ice of God 
 was fully fatisfied. This explication is perfe^f^Iy 
 agreeable to what has been advanced in the pre- 
 ceding part of this divcourfe j and rn this hght 
 they have commonly been confidered. 
 
 There is nothing more plainly afferted in fcrip^ 
 ture, than that Chrift Jefus fuffered in our room 
 and fiead, thejujlfor the unjiift j that he gave his 
 
 lifi 
 
S E R M O N^ XVII. 2.S0 
 
 life a ranfom for many ; that wc recehe ato?ieme?it 
 by him. Men who have confidered the divine 
 perfcdions in a particular view, have raifed many 
 objedions againft this dotfirine : but I know of no 
 method by which we can become acquainted with 
 the nature and attributes of the Supreme Being 
 but by a ferious and humble attention to the 
 works of God, to the ufual method of aciminiftra- 
 tion, as it is difcovered in the government of the 
 world, and to the revelation which in his mercy- 
 he hath vouchfafed to difpenfc to mankind. If 
 we attend to the method of God's government of 
 the world, we meet with many infiances where 
 fome are involved in punifhment for the faults and 
 crimes of others. The deliverance from calami- 
 ties that were deferved, and ready to be executed, 
 is often procured by the aid of others who bear a 
 fhare of thefe calamities though they had no hand 
 in the guilt that occafioned them. Iniiances of 
 thefe, and fuch like difpenfations of providence, 
 render the dodrines of the atonement and fatis- 
 fadion of Jefus, as they are revealed in fcripture, 
 very credible to men of an attentive and humble 
 difpofition of mind. We can never, my brethren, 
 think with too much reverence, and judge with 
 too much caution upon fubjeds of this nature j 
 and nothing can be more abfurd than that a crea- 
 ture like man, inftead of attending to fads and ob- 
 fervations in order to form his opinions, fhould 
 rely upon the combinations of his own imagina- 
 tion, and adopt thefe as the didates of reafonand 
 of truth. 1 have no intention of entering upon a 
 full difcufiion of thefe fubjeds. To the obferva- 
 
 U ' tioiis 
 
290 SERMON XVII. 
 
 tions now made, and the texts of fcripture already 
 produced, I fhall only add the following. 
 
 The apoftles declare in their epiftles, that 
 while we were jet Jinners^ Chriji died for us °, 
 and that we are reconciled to God by the death 
 of his Son " ; Chriji is the propitiation^ ?iot for our 
 fins only., hut for thefns of the whole wor Id \ Can it 
 be exprefled more clearly that the great purpofe of 
 the death of Chrift was to expiate our offences, and 
 to reconcile the Almighty to us his offending crea- 
 tures ? Whenever we attempt to explain things 
 of this kind too particularly, we are in very great 
 danger of running into error, by reckoning theob- 
 jeds, the manner, the ends, and the means of the 
 divine government, too much alike to thofe of 
 human governments, though there certainly is an 
 infinite difference. By affifting the imagination to 
 form diftindt conceptions of the counfels and de- 
 figns of Omnipotence, we are apt to confound 
 the conceptions that are fuifable to the Supreme 
 Being, with thofe which man may be fuppofed 
 to entertain in fimilar circumftances. Unguarded 
 expreffions have been ufed, as if the Divinity 
 could be capable of revenge, implacability, weak- 
 nefs 5 all which are certainly far removed from 
 him, and which it never was the defign of thofe 
 very men, who ufed the expreffions, to afcribe to 
 him. But to all my ideas of goodnefs, of juftice, 
 of mercy, it appears nowife contradidory to fay, 
 that in that great and extenfive fcheme of divine 
 
 ^ ROM. V. 8. " ROM. V. 10. ' JOHN ii. 2. 
 
 providence 
 
SERMON XVII. 291 
 
 providence which is carrying on in the world, and 
 of which the wifeft of the fons of men fees but a 
 very fmall part, it became fit and neceffary, per- 
 haps unavoidable, that an extraordinary degree of 
 fuffering fhould befall an innocent perfon, who, 
 by his voluntary fubmiffion to it, (hould redify a 
 number of thofe disorders which were introduced 
 into the world, and by conciliating the Supreme 
 Being fhould thus prevent its final deftrudion. 
 
 As therefore, my brethren, the expiation of fin, 
 and the reconciliation of men to an offended God, 
 were the principal parts of that plan which our 
 Saviour was to execute upon earth; and as the 
 affurance of the completion of it could not fail to 
 afford the highelt comfort and joy to his followers ; 
 he, agreeably to the general benevolence of his 
 nature, and the attention he ever paid to the 
 great ends of his miffion, regardlefs of the pain 
 and anguifh he endured, and folely intent upon 
 what was great and becoming, juft before he re- 
 (igned his foul, proclaimed aloud, It isfmijhed. 
 
 Having thus taken notice of the different 
 explications of which thefe lafl words of our 
 Saviour are capable, let us confider the peculiar 
 light in which this difcovers his charader to us. 
 
 What has been now faid, may ferve to give 
 us a view of the death of Chrift fomewhat differ- 
 ent from that in which it is commonly confidered, 
 but not lefs interefting. According to the general 
 confiitution of the human frame, and the connec- 
 tion between the foul and the body, it is imnofli- 
 
 U 2 ' ble. 
 
292 SERMON XVII. 
 
 ble, by any mere effort of bur own, and without 
 fome violence, to feparate the one from the other. 
 There is alfo a certain degree of pain and fuffering 
 which unavoidably produces this diifolution, and 
 which no inchnation nor deiire of the individual 
 can prevent. Thefe are eflablifhed laws, to v^'hich 
 in general all the fons of Adam muft bow^. But 
 with ref|>ecl to our Saviour, it does not appear that 
 they tonk place. He had that pow^r over the 
 connexion which fubfifted betw^een his foul and 
 his body, that at any period he could have diffoJv- 
 ed it, without tl^e intervention of any ordinary 
 means. On the other hand, he could have pre- 
 vented any of the ordinary means which take 
 away life from being ufed againft him j or when 
 they were ufed, he could have been above their 
 cfEcacy. The magnanimity then of our Saviour's 
 life and death appears in this, that as long as the 
 purpofes of divine providence required it, he en- 
 dured the m.oft excruciating and intolerable pains, 
 though it was in his power to quit that veil of 
 humanity which fubjeded him to them ; and that 
 as foon as the moment was come, when the will 
 of heaven was fulfilled, he at once difTolved that 
 connexion which, according to the counfels of 
 that will, and on account of a mof^ generous love 
 for a periibing world, he had fo long preferved. 
 Thus he fpeaks always of laying down his own 
 life ; and exprelly fays, No nuin taketh my life from 
 77it\ hilt I lay it dawn^ and I have power' to take it 
 again ^. 
 
 ^ JOHN X. 1 8. 
 
 The 
 
SERMON XVir. 295 
 
 The Jews fent out an armed force againft him, 
 and aflaulted him as a common malefador. Ke 
 could have refcued himfelf by his own power, or 
 called for legions of angels, who at his command 
 would have immediately delivered him. But as a 
 lamb is led to the Jlcmghtei\ and as a fheep before her 
 Jhearers is dumb^ fo opened he not his mouth ^. Pa- 
 tiently did he bear every contumely, indignity, 
 and torment, till the whole will of God, and all 
 the deiigns of his miraculous difpenfation were 
 accomplifhed. Then by a like voluntary ad 
 which had ocsafioned his afTumption of the hu- 
 man frame, he greatly refigned it. It has been 
 juftly obferved, that the words which we tranllate 
 he gave up the ghqfl^ would be more properly and 
 literally tranllated, he refigned^ or he difmiffed his 
 fpirit. And it is remarkable, that when the cen- 
 turion heard him cry out with a loud voice before 
 this happened, and obferved that the force of his 
 natural vigour was not abafed, he immediately 
 coneluded that there was fomething miraculous in 
 the manner of his death. For, (faith the evange- 
 lift Mark) when the centurion which Jiood over again ft 
 him^ Jam) that he jo cried out^ and gave up the ghojiy 
 hej'aid^ Truly this man was the Son of God '''\ 
 
 It is impolTible to difcovcr the conduct and cha- 
 racter of Chrift in a more interefting point of view, 
 than that in which this exhibits him to us. In 
 how faint a light does the virtue of patriots and 
 heroes, of all the juft, and good, and great ap- 
 
 ^' IS. liii. y. -^^ MARK XV. 39. 
 
 pear, 
 
294. SERMON XVII. 
 
 pear, when contrafted with the virtue and mag- 
 nanimity of Jefus ! By an eledion properly his 
 own, he fubmitted to mifery. Though fenlible 
 of all its feverity, and able to avoid its ftroke, yet 
 he never fhrunk from the combat, or rejeded the 
 bittereft draught that was prefented to him. The 
 Jews went out againft him with fwords and ftaves, 
 as againft a murderer : the apparatus of his death, 
 and the circumfiances which attended his execu- 
 tion, were difpiriting and fliocking; fuch as would 
 have difarmed mere humanity of its fortitude. 
 The extenfion of his body, the piercing of his 
 hands and feet, the cruel and unrelenting malice 
 of his enemies, doubtlefs produced a degree of 
 pain that was excruciating. But with what meek- 
 nefs, compofure and refignation does he not bear 
 it, though we cannot doubt but he might have 
 avoided it ! Could not he have quitted that man- 
 fion in which his fpotlefs foul was lodged, and 
 W'ould not heaven have immediately opened to 
 receive its priftine, immaculate inhabitant ? If he 
 required it, would not the earth have heard the 
 voice of its former Mafler, and fwallowed up his 
 mercilefs tormentors ? The fage of antient Greece 
 would not violate the law of his country, nor 
 defert the prifon v^■here he was confined : a ftrik- 
 ing, but unequal reprefentation of the magnani- 
 mity of our Saviour. He knew that the operation 
 of poifon w^ould foon terminate a life that had 
 been devoted to the fervice of his fellow-citizens ; 
 and rather than tranfgrefs the laws, under whofe 
 influence he had aO.ed fuch a diftinguifhed part, 
 he fubmitted to death ; and with true intrepidity 
 met his fate. But our Saviour, unreftrained by 
 
 any 
 
SERMON XVII. 295 
 
 any law, unfubjeded to any neceflity, fufFered a 
 thoufand pangs, and though defpifed and infulted 
 by a whole nation, deferted by his own difciples, 
 deprived of every thing, to all human appearance, 
 that can difarm death of its terrors, yet ftill refu- 
 fed to quit the prifon in which his ceieftial fpirit 
 was lodged, 'till the whole purpofes of heaven 
 were fulfilled. " Yes," fays a writer whofe faith 
 is not ftable, but whofe heart is open to the fenti- 
 ments of greatnefs, of worth, and of humanity, 
 when he confiders merely the external circumftan- 
 ces which attended the death of the Athenian, 
 and of our Saviour, " if the life and death of So- 
 " crates are thofe of a fage, the life and death of 
 " Jefus are thofe of a God. 
 
 " No perfon,'* fays the antient maxim, can be 
 " called great or happy before his death." It is 
 this which crowns the moft illuftrious life, and 
 fets the feal upon the faireft charader. Eftimate 
 our Saviour's charader by this rule. To depart 
 out of life with proteftations of injured innocence, 
 gives no unfavourable impreflion ; but to fuffer 
 the life and adions to fpeak for themfelves, and 
 to remain unfhaken under a load of infamy and 
 injuftice, as confcious of fuperior dignity, affords 
 fenfations far more pleafing and powerful. To 
 forgive one's accufers, to pardon the mod unde- 
 ferved ill-treatment, is truly great ; but to return 
 condefcenfion for malice, to (hew the moft gene- 
 rous piety, and to pour forth the moft fervent 
 prayers for one's bittereft foes, is a pitch of glory 
 that is tranfcendent. To be folicitous about one's 
 future ftate, and to fupport one's mind under un- 
 
 juft 
 
296 S E R M O N XVI I. 
 
 juft fufferings with the profped of after-felicity, 
 is becoming and manly : but to be folely intent 
 at the hour of death, upon the execution of a 
 plan undertaken to promote the welfare and hap- 
 pinefs of others, is truly divine. That the foul 
 upon the immediate profpecft of its feparation from 
 the body, fhould hefitate and flutter, and leave 
 its ancient receptacle with fome reludance, is na- 
 tural to humanity j but to difcover the precife 
 moment, when the purpofes of heaven are ac- 
 complilhed to make a voluntary relignation of 
 the foul to quit the body by a proper exertion of 
 inherent power, are actions becoijiing a Deity. 
 
 S E R. 
 
SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Isaiah liii. 3. 
 
 He is dejpijed and reJeBed ofmen^ a man offorrowsy 
 and acquainted with grief. 
 
 Y< 
 
 O U all know that thefe words are a part of a 
 moft remarkable and precife predidion of the cha- 
 rader of our Saviour, whole death many among 
 you defign to commemorate this day, by partak- 
 ing of that facrament which he inftituted for that 
 very purpofe. 
 
 I NEED not tell yon that you ought to be in- 
 flamed with the higheft love and gratitude to your 
 Mafter, and afFeded with the deepeft forrow for 
 your fins, on fo folemn an occafion. Not to raife 
 in you thefe difpofitions, for 1 am perfuaded you 
 feel them already, but to cherifh, to improve, and 
 to exalt them, I (hall at this time relate fome of 
 the chief fufferings our Saviour endured, which 
 plainly point him out as a man of J arrows^ and ac- 
 quainted with grief. And, O bleffed Jefus, I 
 humbly implore thy aluftance to enable me to 
 
 fpcak 
 
298 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 fpeak on this afFeding fubjed, with that fervour 
 which is becoming thy votary, and that divine 
 energy which may touch the hearts of thy 
 difciples. 
 
 Before we introduce the fufferings of our 
 Saviour, let us juft take notice of the primeval, 
 and fallen flate of the human race. 
 
 Man came out of the hands of his powerful 
 and beneficent Creator, an innocent and upright 
 being, feeling no difquiets within, and expofed to 
 no tempefts without, enjoying full means of im- 
 mediately gratifying every defire, and entirely 
 happy in the fenfible fri-endlhip of the univerfal' 
 Parent of heaven and earth. With the moft un- 
 bounded fcope to fatisfy every want, and liberty 
 to range in a paradife of delights, there was im- 
 pofed but one lingle prohibition, as the mark of 
 his dependance, and the teft of his obedience. 
 This prohibition, however, man difregarded, and 
 defiring to be equal to God, fell below the true 
 dignity of a man, loft the favour of his Maker, 
 his inward peace and tranquility, and introduced 
 into the world fin, and difeafes, and pain, and 
 death. The race indeed increafed j but igno- 
 rance, violence, oppreffion, and every kind of 
 iniquity increafed with them j and the calamities 
 which were at firft confined to two, extended to 
 millions, and involved the numberlefs pofterity of 
 the apoftate pair. To this deplorable condition, 
 confifting in the lofs of innocence, the confciouf- 
 nefs of guilt, the dread of mifery, and the train 
 
 of 
 
SERMON XVIII. 2519 
 
 of tormenting thoughts, which muft accompany 
 thefe, was man funk. 
 
 A HUMAN eye might have pitied his fellow- 
 mortals : but no human hand could have helped 
 them. This tafk was even too arduous for any of 
 thofc exalted orders of beings which continually 
 furround the throne of God, and fing his praifes. 
 But it was referved for one who vv as fully able to 
 execute it : and while angels faw and compaflion- 
 ated fallen man, in the affembly of heaven the 
 Son of God declares his merciful intention of fub- 
 jeding himfelf to their ftate, in order to be the 
 author of their falvation. His father approves, 
 and to preparing the way for his appearance, the 
 miniftry of angels,, and the fchemes of man are 
 made fubfervient. * 
 
 At length the appointed period for that won- 
 derful event which prophets foretold, and for 
 which martyrs bled, arrives. The eternal Son of 
 God, the bright nejs of his Father's glory ^ a?id the 
 exprefs hnige of his perfon^ by whom the heavens 
 and the earth were made, condefcended to appear 
 among mankind. He put off the effulgence of 
 divine glory, and was cloathed with the robe of 
 humanity. Where fhall I look for this divine per- 
 fon ? Is he born in a palace ? or does he make his 
 appearance with the pomp and fplendour which 
 the misjudging world reckon the companions of 
 greatnefs ? Behold he comes, the Saviour comes : 
 but it is in a mean and humble condition. He 
 left the joys of heaven, the bofom of his Father, 
 that feat of ferene and unmixed happinefs, the 
 
 veneration 
 
300 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 veneration of angels, and for thee, O man, he 
 enters into the (late of wretchednefs. A liable is 
 his birth-place, and a manger is his cradle. How 
 extraordinary was this change ? From living 
 with cherubs and with feraphs, yea, from being 
 their, fuperior, he becomes an inhabitant of the 
 fame manfion, with the beafls of the field. O 
 Jefus, in this humble condition, when tender 
 and innocent upon the knees of thy mother, (he 
 beheld thee with divine complacence, who could 
 difcern the Son of the Almighty, and the Saviour 
 of the world ? None but heaven- direded minds. 
 And they difcern him. Lo angels acknowledge 
 thee, and at thy birth proclaim peace on earthy and 
 good-will to men ^. Some of the wife and worthy 
 confefs thee as the jalvation of the Ijord^ the glory 
 and the king of If rati ^, 
 
 But this very confeffion becomes to Jefus a 
 fource of forrow, and draws upon him the hatred 
 and refentment of a powerful tyrant. To efcapc 
 the fatal effe^s of thefe, it is necelTary to convey 
 him into a foreign land, and in thofe tender years 
 ■which feldom raife envy, my Redeemer is forced 
 into exile, and expofed to all the hardfhips that 
 attend it. He is again brought into his own 
 country, lives in fubjecflion to his parents, endur- 
 ing hard labour, and all the inconveniencies of a 
 mean condition. 
 
 But now the fcene opens. Ke prepares to exe- 
 cute the work for which he appeared among men. 
 
 LUKE ii. 14. " VERSES 30. 32. 
 
 The 
 
SERMON XVIII. 301 
 
 The world confiders him as nothing elfe than the 
 carpenter's Ton : but his forerunner, that powerful 
 preacher of righteoufnefs, declares his dignity. 
 Yea, the declaration of heaven itfeif is given in 
 his favour. That awful voice which the dead 
 fhall hear and obey, the voice of the Almighty, 
 pronounces him his behind Son in whom he is well 
 pleafed. Could he have been ufhered into the 
 world in a way more ready to conciliate the love 
 and approbation oi manivind, to make the good to 
 revere him, and the wicked to dread him ? Thus 
 one would judge. But attend to the hiftory. 
 
 The apoftate angel, the king of darknefs, the 
 patron and head of the wicked, alwavs watchful 
 againft the firll appearance of any thing that is 
 good, and ever defirous to feduce from righteouf^ 
 nefs, has power allowed him to tempt him. He 
 ufes his moft prevailing arts. But neither hunger 
 the moft extreme, nor the offer of any earthly 
 power and fplendour, could draw him from the 
 dired path of integrity. Secure oti every fide, a 
 fuit urged with a religious appearance could not 
 deceive him. At laft balried, as v^'hen he fell 
 from heaven, he leaves the Son of God, and 
 angels receive him, 
 
 Our Saviour now enters upon his public mi- 
 niftry : and what aftonifhing fads are we pre- 
 fented with ! Behold and wonder, the moft fin- 
 gular predictions of the prophets are fulfilled! The 
 eyes of the blind are opened, and the ears of the 
 deaf unftopped, the lame leap like the hart, the 
 dumb fing for joy, and the inhabitant of the filent 
 
 tomb 
 
302 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 tomb is reftored to life. Surely thefe wonderful 
 ads of love and kindnefs procured him fuch 
 approbation, that he could want neither the ne- 
 cefTaries, nor the conveniencies of life. Whofe 
 door would not have been open for the reception 
 of fo honourable a gueft? Who that had two 
 garments would not have beftowed one upon 
 him? Or who would not have fhared with him 
 the verv laft morfel ? But the cafe was far other- 
 wife. I am covered with fhame, when I rcfle6t 
 upon the ingratitude and inhumanity of the Jews, 
 and hear my Saviour thus fpeaking of his own 
 condition. The foxes have holes^ the birds of the 
 air have nefts^ hut the Son of man hath not where to 
 lay his head ^. The rains did not fooner defcend, 
 the winds did not fooner blow, and the tempefts 
 did not fooner roar, than he, without aid, with- 
 out fhelter, felt all their force. Shrinkeft thou, 
 O chriftian, at the relation of thofe hardships ? 
 Let thy tears flow in admiration of that patience 
 and fortitude which never fhrunk from the feeling 
 of them. 
 
 But I come to tell you of forrows which pierced 
 thy Redeemer much deeper. Thofe I am to 
 mention, tho' to him unfpeakably great, yet unlefs 
 thy foul feel fomething of that benevolence which 
 aduated him, will not perhaps ftrike thee much. 
 Yet hear and confider them. I mean then the 
 forrows and grief which Jefus felt in being de- 
 fpifed, reje6ied^ hated by fuch numbers of his 
 
 ^ MATTHEW viii. 20. 
 
 country- 
 
SERMON XVIII. 303 
 
 countrymen. O the diftorted eye of malice, what 
 will it not fee? Does our Saviour keep company 
 vfxtYiJinners^ in order to reform them ? Then is 
 he called their friend. Does he wear no forbidding 
 or auftere appearance, but partake innocently and 
 chearfully of the gifts of providence ? Then he is 
 a glutton and a wine-bibber '^. Does he perform 
 miraculous cures, in order to beftow health, in 
 order to fpread happinefs and joy; and does his 
 defire to be the author of thefe prevent him from 
 obferving rights that were merely ceremonial, 
 inftitutions that were merely pofitive, and never 
 defigned to preclude fuch beneficient works ? Then 
 is he a difrefpedor of their laws, a contemner of 
 their law-giver. Yea, do the devils obey his 
 word, and leave thofe who were poffeffed by 
 them ? He efFeds this by a combination with their 
 prince; and works of piety, juftice, and charity, 
 are the foundation on which the kingdom of Satan 
 is reared ^. Do you fay, were undeferved hatred 
 and reproaches, which many men have borne 
 bravely, fo difficult to be fupported by Jefus, when 
 he had the inward 'teftimony that there was no 
 guilt in him, and when unfpotted innocence and 
 integrity were his robe, and his diadem ? Miftake 
 me not. The pain and forrow which Jefus felt, 
 did not proceed from the reproaches which were 
 thrown upon him : but frohi this caufe they pro- 
 ceeded, from knowing the difpofitions which pre- 
 vailed in thofe who reproached him. How are 
 we fliockcd, and what pain do we feel when we 
 
 E 
 
 " MATTH. XI. 19. ' MATTH. IX. 34. 
 
 fee 
 
504 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 fee our fellow-creature in tlie laft ftage of a loatli- 
 fome diftemper ? But could mental difeafes, the 
 difeafes of malice, of hatred, of envy, of obftinacy 
 be exhibited to our fenfes, how much greater an- 
 guifh would a generous mind feel for the mifera- 
 ble fuiferer ? By looking forward, and confidering 
 the end, how would the anguifh be increafed? 
 Now to the penetrating eye of Jefus, thofe difea- 
 fes appeared in their blackeft deformity : and the 
 unhappy wretches who were infefted with them 
 he beheld ignorant and blind, ready to fall into 
 that miferable ftate, where is weeping and wailing^ 
 and gnqP27rg of teeth ^ where their worm dieth ?iot^ 
 and their fire J hall not he quenched. Ye benevolent 
 minds, figure to yourfelves what the benevolent 
 mind of Jefus endured, when to the inhabitants 
 of Chorazin, Bethfaida, proud Capernaum, and 
 Jerufalem itfelf, he, forefeeing the final day of 
 retribution, pronounced woes, the very thought 
 of which muft chill the warmeft blood, and to 
 avoid which they will but in vain call upon the 
 mountains and hills to cover them for ever. Be* 
 hold him then defpifed and rejected of men, and 
 overwhelmed with grief, not on his own account, 
 but on account of the very finners who defpifed 
 liim. Jerufalem., Jenilalem^ how often would I 
 have gathered thy children together^ even as a hen ga- 
 thereth her chickens under her wings., and ye would 
 not ! 
 
 But the meafure of his forrows is not yet full. 
 And before I could relate all that even man can 
 declare, the fliades of night would cover the earth ; 
 for from the cradle to the grave, his life was one 
 
 uninterrupted 
 
SERMON XVIII. 305 
 
 uninterrupted fcene of the deepeft afflidion. Let 
 us only then, in order to raife the higheft emoti- 
 ons of love and gratitude, view him in the laft pe- 
 riod of it. 
 
 Attended by his favourite difciple and Peter 
 and James, he withdraws into the garden. In 
 this foHtude, removed from his enemies, can fo in- 
 nocent a mind fiiffer diftrefs ? But what an afto- 
 nifhing fpedacle? He is in agony. He fweats 
 drops of blood : and his own words, who never 
 uttered a complaint, but when the caufe was in- 
 fupportable, are, My foul is exceeding forrowful^ 
 eve?! unto death \ Heafks the aid of his friends, 
 and entreats them to watch with him till that hour 
 of extremity fhould be over : but the wakeful eye 
 of friendfhip is foon fealed at this time; and alone, 
 unfupported and unpitied, he endures the dread- 
 ful anguifh. The united force of the powers of 
 darknefs, combined with the malice of all man- 
 kind, could not have filled him with fuch anguifh. 
 It is an invifible, but an infinitely powerful hand 
 that afflids him. The cup of his Father's wrath 
 is now prefented to him, and that vengeance 
 which would have crufhed a guilty world, is now 
 direded againft this innocent and holy one. For 
 the iniquities of man, from the eating of that 
 fruit which introduced all our woe, till the con- 
 fummation of the world, the puniiliment was 
 now infliding upon him. I adore, O adore with 
 me, that infinite love of Jefus, that entire fubmif- 
 
 ^" MATTii. xxvi. 38. 
 
 , X fion 
 
5o6 SERMON XVin. 
 
 fion to the divine will which makes him fay, Tho' 
 the potion be bitter, yet for man 1 can drink it ; 
 7iot my w///, Father^ but thine he done. Yet, all 
 ye fons of calamity, ye children of affliction, I ap- 
 peal to you, if ever ye felt, or if there ever was 
 forrow, like unto that forrow wherewith the 
 Lord in his fierce ang^r afflided the Saviour of 
 the world. 
 
 This fcene is not over when his unworthy dif- 
 ciple comes to betray him. Thy Mafter, Judas, 
 thy loving Mailer, thou betray eft with a kifs. 
 This token of love that traitor makes the fignal 
 for feizing upon his Lord. Unhappieft of mortals ! 
 In thy hearing the pureft, the moft fublime and 
 elevated dodrines were taught, the moft pathetic 
 exhortations delivered, and the wifdom of divinity 
 itfelf difplayed : but all without eifed upon a heart 
 which was harder than the rock. Yet know, that 
 vengeance purfues iniquity. And deliver us, O 
 juft heaven, from ever feeling any degree of that 
 remorfe which haftened the exit of this wretched 
 man. The fpotlefs Son of God now a lawlefs, 
 armed multitude drag away, and pour on him all 
 manner of indignities. How meekly is he led 
 along, though legions of angels would have ap- 
 peared at his word to refcue him ? How tamely 
 does he bear the reproaches which malice invents, 
 and fpite utters.'* Harmlefs and innocent, like a 
 lamb to the ftaughter, is he led, and his mouth is 
 not opened againft his moft inveterate foes. The 
 Shepherd IS ?iozv Jmtten^ and the Jfieep are fcatiered'^ . 
 
 ^ ZECH. xiii. 7. 
 
 His 
 
SERMON XVIII. 307 
 
 His difciples, whom he liad treated as his moll 
 familiar friends, who had been the companions of 
 many of his former woes, now defert him. In 
 his fufferinsjs he did not behold the alleviating 
 tear of fympathy fhed upon his account. One 
 difciple indeed, more zealous than the reft, who 
 had greatly refolved rather to die with his Mafter, 
 than forfake or deny him, mingles among the 
 croud. But how weak is human refolution ! In 
 the very prefence of his Lord, thrice he denies him 
 with oaths. Yet ftruck by his eye, which looks 
 on me, on all, he repents, weeps bitterly; and 
 He, who never knew what it was to refufe par- 
 don, forgives him. 
 
 In the mean time, to all the infults of a tumul- 
 tuous rabble, to the derifion of the very loweft of 
 the people is Jefus expofed. They mock him: 
 they fmite him : they ftrike him on the face. 
 His vifage was more marred than any man^ and his 
 form more than the Jons of men ". How was the 
 priefthood degraded on that day, when Caiaphas 
 joined with the people in jfuch unjuft, fuch barba- 
 rous treatment of the Lord of glory \ 
 
 He is now hurried before Pilate's tribunal. 
 Pilate fees no fault in him ; but his enemies cry. 
 Crucify him. Let never a judge deliver an inno- 
 cent perfon to appeafe a multitude, or to preferve 
 his own power. Let the laws ever be, as they 
 ought to be, the guardians and avengers of the 
 
 - " ISAIAH lii. 14. 
 
 X 2 righteous 
 
3o8 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 righteous caufe ; and let their puniflimcnt never 
 fall but on the guilty head. How different was 
 the cafe at this time? That integrity and imparti- 
 ality, which ought to be dearer to a judge than his 
 life, is laid afide by Pilate. But his confcience 
 fmites him : he calls for water \ Alas Pilate I 
 water could not cleanfe from the ftain which this 
 heinous crime infixed. The multitude, whofe 
 rage had pufhed them not only to devote them- 
 felves, but as far as they could, their children to 
 deflrudion, having now the fandion of the high- 
 priefl, and the licence of the governor, drag my 
 Saviour, and my King, to execution. 
 
 Those hands which had wrought fo many mi- 
 raculous cures, are bound like the hands of a 
 common malefador. The head which deferved 
 to wear a crown of glory, and which now wears 
 it, as a mark of their contempt, they crown 
 with thorns. Happy woman! thou, who pour- 
 edfl a box of precious ointment on this facred 
 liead, flialt ever be mentioned with honour, and 
 this fhall ever be recorded as a memorial of thy 
 name ; while the crucifiers of the Lord of life fhall 
 be confidered from generation to generation, as 
 objeds of the higheft abhorrence. They renew 
 their former infults. Having cloathed him with 
 the mock enfigns of royalty, they bend the knee 
 before him, faying, ILn'/ King of the Jews ^. 
 They fpitupon him, and take the reed which they 
 had put in his hand, and fmite him on the head. 
 
 ' MATTH. XXvii. 24. '' MATTH. XXVii. 29. 
 
 Then 
 
SERMON XVIII. 309 
 
 Then he gave his back to the fmiters^ and his cheek 
 to them that pulled off the hair \ he did not hide his 
 face from Jhame andfpitting ^. 
 
 At laft with relentlefs hearts they bring him to 
 Calvary. But who is able to", relate what palTed 
 at Calvary ? A crofs is ereded, a puni(hment 
 for the moft atrocious criminals, and criminals of 
 the loweft rank, remarkable too for the exquifite 
 piin it inflided, and for its long continuance. 
 Here they fix the innocent Jefus between two men 
 who were to receive the due reward of their deeds. 
 Now his lovers and his friends Ji and aloof his kinf- 
 7nenjland afar ojf^^ and there is none near to 
 help. Is not the hatred of his enemies now fatia- 
 ted ? Sufpended between heaven and earth, rea- 
 dy to die, and yet patient under the calamity, is 
 he yet an objed of deridon ? When the golden howl 
 is breaking, and the filver cord is loofing, is this a 
 feafon for infult ? Cruelty, be thou ever my ab- 
 horrence, and with thy fons let my foul never 
 partake ! In this very extremity they mock and 
 revile him. O all ye that pafs by ! here humani- 
 ty calls for your pity. Here ye may fhed the ge- 
 nerous tear j and the world will applaud it. But 
 pafTengers join witli his crucifiers and deride him. 
 He is thirfty, and the foldiers prefent him with 
 vinegar. His fide they pierce with a fpear : the 
 very parting of foul and body they endeavour to 
 render more infupportable than it generally is. 
 Yet what a benisii and merciful look was that, 
 
 ^' IS. 1. 6. ^ PS. xxxviii. ir. 
 
 ■and 
 
310 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 and what an earnefl petition to his Father ? Sure- 
 ly a prayer for his deliverance. No. O inimita- 
 ble love ! O divine charity ! It is a prayer for his 
 crucifiers. And now his foul is fo overcaft; his 
 profpecl of the end of impenitent Tinners fo ftri- 
 king, his concern for them fo great, his love of 
 mankind fo infinite, and his Father's wrath fo to- 
 tally overwhelming, that is impoffihle to ex pre fs 
 his condition. Can the Father of goodnefs with- 
 draw his aid from his own immiaculate Son ? Can 
 mercy fimt its ear againll the cry of innocence? 
 To proclaim to the w crld his abhorrence of man's 
 tranfgrefiions, he can; and the words of Jefus are, 
 I)4)> Gcd^ 7'riy God, w'ry iwjl thou forjaken me " ^ 
 This total defertion he could not fupport; and now 
 one dying prayer, and one lafl groan, and the 
 fountain of life tails, and the Son of God expires. 
 That expiring groan, hear it, O ye heavens ! and 
 be aitonifhed, O earth ! Lo all nature hears it, 
 and bears teftiniony to thy dignity. The fun 
 withdraws his light, terrified at "what unrelenting 
 man performed. The veil of the temple is rent, 
 the earth quakes, the rocks are rent. Kis very 
 enemies now declare him irmocent. Behold our 
 Saviour now with his head dependent, his eyes 
 clofed in darknefs, and his body itiff and cold. 
 Could you fee your enemy, O chriftian, endure 
 fuch affli^flion as this man of forrows endured, 
 and not weep for him ? But confider that he was 
 yoiir firmeft friend, your moft bountiful bene- 
 fador, ever true to your intercfts, ever anxious 
 
 ^-' MATTH. XXvii. 46. 
 
 for 
 
SERMON XVIII. 311 
 
 for your falvation, and that In order to promote it 
 even death was welcome to him. that my head 
 were waters^ and mine eyes a fomitain of tears ^ that 
 J ?night weep day a?id night ! Here admiration, 
 gratitude, love and fympathy prompt our tears. 
 Here the dauntlefs hero fhould weep and not be 
 afhamed. This day Jefus looks from heaven, and 
 and fees how we are affeded. He approves of our 
 forrow; but kind and beneficent as ever, he 
 would alleviate our grief on his account, and de- 
 fires us to turn it into a mean of our improve- 
 ment. He feems to fay, Why mourn ye for the 
 living as if he were dead ? Behold I am alive ^ and 
 live for evei'more. But as he addreffed the daugh- 
 ters of Jerufalem of old, he adds, IFcep not for 
 me^ chriftians, but weep for yourjelves^ for I was 
 wounded for your tranfgrejjions^ 1 was hruifed for 
 your iniquities^ 
 
 O MY brethren, confider then all your fins ag 
 the caufe of your Saviour's fufferings. He was 
 the propitiatian for the fins of many. He gave his 
 life a ranfom for finners. Efteem him not ftricken 
 and fmitten of God for his own fake, but becaufe 
 he bore the griefs which we fhould have felt, and 
 carried the forrows which we deferved. Confider 
 the fins by which we deferved them, repent of 
 them, and forfake them, that you may have rer- 
 demption through the blood ofChrifl^ even the forgive-^ 
 7iejs of our f.ns. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XIX. 
 
 I Corinthians xi. 26. 
 
 For as often as you eat this breads and drink this 
 cupy ye do Jhew forth the Loris death till he 
 come. 
 
 I 
 
 T was the intention of the apoftle in this chap- 
 ter to point out to the Corinthians fome of thofe 
 abufes which they had introduced into the worfhip 
 of God, and to bring them back to a purer and 
 more perfed plan. Their manner of celebrating 
 the Lord's fupper,. had been remarkably indecent. 
 When they met together for this purpofe, inftead 
 of behaving fo that this inftitution might promote 
 their piety, and confirm their integrity, they had 
 fhamefully converted it into a mean of foftering 
 fenfuality, riot, and even inhumanity. The 
 apoille openly charges them with their vices, and 
 boldly condemns them on account of them. His 
 zeal however is the zeal of an honeft man, fcnfi- 
 ble of the faults, but anxious for the reformation 
 of thofe to whom he wrote. 
 
 With 
 
314 SERMON XIX. 
 
 With a view to their reformation, he gives 
 them a fimplc, yet full and perfpicuous account 
 of the Lord's fupper J which, he declares, fprung 
 not from the tradition of men, or from the fug- 
 geftions of his own reafon or imagination, but 
 from the immediate revelation of the Lord Jefus 
 Chrift; For I have received of the Lord^ that which 
 alfo I deliver unto you ^ that the Lord Jefus ^ the 
 fame night in which he was betrayed^ took bread : 
 and when he had given thajiks^ he brake it and f aid, 
 Take, eat ; this is my body zvhich is broken for you : 
 this do in remembrance of me. After the fame manner 
 alfo he took the cup, when he had fupped, faying. 
 This cup is the new tefiament in my blood: this do 
 ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me *. 
 After this accocnt of the inftitution of the Lord*s 
 fupper, the apoftle endeavours to turn the atten- 
 tion of the Corinthians to its principal end, and 
 thus to infinuate an argument for the decent and 
 orderly obfervance of it : For as oft as ye eat this 
 bread, a?id drink this cup^ye do JJiew forth the Lords 
 death till he come. 
 
 This and the fimilar pafTages of the new tefta- 
 ment clearly point out the intention and objed of 
 this inftitution, and give us a diftintft and full 
 view of them. Can any thing be more plain than 
 it is from fcripture, that the bread and wine which 
 are made ufe of in the Lord's fupper, are intended 
 to be memorials of the body of Chrift which was 
 broken, and of his blood which was fhed upon 
 
 * Ver. 23, 24, 25. 
 
 the 
 
SERMON XIX. 315 
 
 the crofs ; and that the eating of this bread, and 
 the drinking of this wine, were enjoined his fol- 
 lowers as folemn ac^s to be performed in remem- 
 brance of his death ? Almoft every chriftian un- 
 derftands this. And yet, making allowance for 
 the manner of fpeaking common at that period, 
 and fuppoiing notliing intended contradidory to 
 our reafon, and our fenfes, the words of Chrift 
 appear to me to be as intelligible and perfpicuous 
 as the paraphrafe now given. But tho' the delign 
 of the inflitution may be ealily underilood, being 
 delivered with that plainnefs for which the gofpel 
 in general is remarkable; yet certainly it is not for 
 that reafon to be regarded with the lefs reverence, 
 or obferved with the lefs folemnity. All religious 
 and well-difpofed chrift ians, nay many of very 
 indifferent charaders, have commonly confidered 
 it as an inftitution extremely facred, the negled: or 
 contempt of which betrayed a very corrupt heart, 
 and a very impious temper. 
 
 I PROPOSE, in difcourfing upon the words now 
 read, to inquire what thofe caufes are, which 
 have engaged men to view it in this light, to re- 
 gard it with this peculiar reverence. Before I 
 enter upon this inquiry, let me premife an obfer- 
 vation or two. 
 
 I ft, When I fpeak of the caufes which engage 
 men to confider the Lord's fupper as an ordinance 
 peculiarly facred and folemn, I do not intend to 
 infift upon thofe caufes which, though they may 
 have at particular periods, and with particular 
 perfons, or even with large bodies of men, greatly 
 
 con- 
 
2i6 SERMON XIX. 
 
 contributed to this, yet are not founded in the 
 reafon of things, or the nature of the inftitution. 
 I am very fenfible that for many ages of the 
 church, the myftery which the prieiis afFeded, 
 and the ignorance in which the people were in- 
 volved, together with many abfurd dodrines re- 
 fpet^ing this inftitution, occaiioned much of that 
 veneration which was paid to the Lord's fupper. 
 With many men, there is nothing which more 
 promotes admiration, than a ftrong faith, and httle 
 knowledge. Curiofity excited, but not gratified, 
 proves the Tlireft foundation on which fuperftition 
 enthuliafm and error can be built. 1 wiOi that 
 even in our days the veil, which is fometimes in- 
 duftrioully, fometimes undefighedly, and fome- 
 times ignorantly thrown over the ordinances of 
 religion,, be not often the principal caufe of out 
 reverence for them. But the caufe of God and 
 virtue have fo manv real fupports, that they need 
 no falfe ones. Every fraud is deteftable : but a 
 pious fraud (the very appellation is an affront ta 
 heaven) is the worft of all frauds. I propofe 
 therefore to conf^der only thofe caufes of reverence 
 for this facred ordinance which I regard as juft 
 and well-founded, and which 1 believe chiefly to 
 have prevailed in the firft and pureft ages of the 
 church, and to prevail ftill with wife and fober 
 chriftians. 
 
 2dly, In mentioning the peculiar reverence with 
 which the inftitution of the Lord's fupper is to be 
 regarded, I do not mean to infinuate a comparifon 
 between that degree of reverence which is due to 
 this ordinance of religion, and that which is due 
 
 to 
 
SERMON XIX. 317 
 
 toother ordinances of God's appointn?-ent. Com- 
 parifons of this kind are generally improper ; 
 fometim^s in^pioiis. But there may be forne duties 
 of religion, a failure in which does not difcover fo 
 great corruption of heart, nor is accompanied with 
 fo bitter remorfe a5 ii failure in others : and there 
 may be fome duties of fuch a complicated nature, 
 as to touch many of the feelings, and work on 
 many of the affcdions of the heart at once ; fo 
 that an irreverent behaviour in the performance 
 of them may (hock us more, and indicate a more 
 abandoned character, and a more corrupted heart 
 than the fame behaviour in the performance of 
 other duties \ tho' in thcfe alfo it ^A^'uid be highly 
 impious. For iadance, in reading the v/ord of 
 God, if we willingly permit the cares, anxieties, 
 and temptations of the world to intrude upon us, 
 we are certainly guilty of a fin : but if we indulge 
 the fame wanderinj^ and worldly difpoiition in our 
 immediate addreffes to God, we are guilty of a 
 greater (in, Again^ every addiefs to God de- 
 mands the mcft feriouo £n4 recollected temper. 
 For a weak creature to f:and ir the prefence of 
 the all-perfedl God, to raif^ his foul to the con- 
 templation of his wonderful nature, and at the 
 fame time to think of him as hii father and his 
 friend, ought at once to elevate and compcfe, to 
 footh, and to expand the foul : and infeniibihty, 
 at the very time we feem to be employed in de- 
 votion, is furelyhifi^hly criminal. Yet infeniibility 
 or irreverence in the participation of the 'Lord's 
 fupper is more highly criminal. For this partici- 
 pation not only implies prayer, and that too 
 animated by the moft affeding confiderations, 
 
 but 
 
3i8 SERMON XIX. 
 
 but alfo recalls to our mind a charader and an 
 event, which have the ftrongeft tendency to work 
 upon all the nobleft, and the moil generous prin- 
 ciples of our nature. In this fituation, irreverence 
 difcovers a foul not only loll: to piety, but almoft 
 deprived of the common feelings of humanity. 
 
 Having premifed thefeobfervations, I proceed 
 to take notice of the caufes which fhould engage 
 chriftians to confider the Lord's fupper as an ordi- 
 nance extremely facred, and to regard it with pe- 
 culiar reverence. 
 
 In the firft place: I would obferve that it is a 
 ^pofitive inflitution of chriftianity, appointed in 
 very peculiar and afFeding circumftances. 
 
 The pofitive inftitutions of the gofpel have fre- 
 quently been confidered merely as means to an 
 end, not efientially neceffary, but fit and proper 
 to be obferved. Perhaps this fentiment, under 
 proper limitations, may be free from error. But 
 I do not fee that the obfervation is very important. 
 I can conceive a ftate, in which the performance 
 of the pofitive duties of chriftianity would not be 
 binding, becaufe in that flate it might be impoffi- 
 bJe to perform them. I can alfo conceive a ftate 
 in which feveral moral duties may be lawfully 
 omitted, nay muft unavoidably tc omitted, be- 
 caufe there would be no fcope for the pradice of 
 them. But I can conceive no ftate in which a 
 chriflian can with a good confcience omit either a 
 moral, or a pofitive duty, if he has a proper op- 
 portunity for performing it. Men may differ con- 
 cerning 
 
SERMON XIX. 319 
 
 cerning the times and feafons proper for the obfer- 
 vance of pofitive inftitutions, or they may differ in 
 their opinion concerning the frequency of their 
 repetition ; but they may differ alfo concerning the 
 extent and obhgation of moral duties. We know 
 that thefe depend in fome meafure upon particular 
 charaders, circumftances and opportunities. 
 
 Thus much appeared nccefTary for removing a 
 prejudice againfl the reverence due to pofitive in- 
 ftitution of religion, which an incautious manner 
 of expreffion may have fometimes occaiioned. 
 Let us now confider the particular circumilances 
 and folemnity with which the inftitution prefent- 
 ly under confideration was appointed. 
 
 Our Saviour had gone with his difciples to 
 celebrate the high feflival of the Jews. He had 
 given flrong intimations of his immediate depar- 
 ture from his friends and followers. Pie had 
 plainly told them, that he v/ould not again par- 
 take in a feafi which they probably thought was 
 to continue through all generations. He had 
 particularly informed them that, by the treachery 
 of one of thofe few whom he had feleded from 
 the world, he was to be delivered into the hands 
 of finners. This threw a general damp upon the 
 company, and each anxious and forrowful for 
 himfelf, faid, Is it /.^ His reply confirmed all 
 their fears. It could not remove their concern 
 for the lofs of their maimer, their friend and their 
 benefador ; nor was it fo precife, as to remove 
 from any of them all a fufpicion that his own fi- 
 delity was called in qucilion : // is one of the 
 
 twelve 
 
320 SERMON XIX. 
 
 twelve that dippeth with me in the di/h^. It is added. 
 The Son of man indeed goeth^ as it is written of him ^ 
 but wo to that man by whom the Son of man is betray^ 
 ed! good were it for that man f he had never been 
 born ^. It was at this time, when the difciples 
 could not fail to be in a ftate of the utmoii anxie- 
 ty, agitation and defpondency, that our Saviour 
 took the breads and having given thanks^ breaks it^ 
 and gave it to them^ and J'aid^ This is ?nj> body ^ ; 
 and afterwards took the cup, and gave it to them with 
 thefe remarkable words, This is my blood of the 
 new tefament^ which is /he d for many^. I afk any 
 man, if this was not a icene which muft leave the 
 deepeft impreflion on the minds of the difciples ? 
 Could they have been men, efpecially conlidering. 
 what followed, if they had ever forgot it ? Can 
 any thing, which tended to raife a greater variety 
 of emotions and afFedions, be defcribed or con- 
 ceived ? Could there ever be a folemn meeting in 
 which the apoftles and firft chriftians were together 
 where the converfation would not turn upon this 
 fubjed, and where every apoftle w^ould not expa- 
 tiate upon the words, the looks, the manner of 
 his mafter ; upon the anxiety, uncertainty and 
 terror which pofTefled his own mind, and upon 
 the emotions which his companions difcovered ? 
 
 If this very tranfadion were painted upon 
 canvas by a lliilful hand, and prefented to a man 
 of fenfibility who had refufed his belief to the 
 
 "MARKxiv. 20. '^■VER. 21. ^VER. 22. 
 ^ VERSE 23, 24. 
 
 evidence 
 
SERMON XIX. 321 
 
 evidence of religion, yet he would for a moment 
 become a chriftian, as it were by contagion ; and 
 fympathy would be the predominant emotion of 
 his heart. But how dead is all defcription, com- 
 pared to nature and living objed ! if Judas w^as 
 prefent, furely his heart relented for a little: had 
 not the very fpirit of fatan dwelt in him, it had 
 relented for ever. 
 
 When we attend to thefe circumftances, we 
 muft be fenfible that in the primitive days of chrif- 
 lianity, this inftitution could not but excite the 
 utmoft refped and reverence in chriftians; and 
 that the being engaged in it could not but call up 
 every pious, every afFedionate feeling in the 
 higheft degree of fervour. I allow that it cannot 
 be expeded to operate fo ftrongly upon us : but 
 is it poflible for any believer, who is not deflitute 
 of fenfibility, ferioufly to read the defcription 
 which Mark or the other evangelifts give us of 
 this fcene, and not feel the powers of his foul 
 roufed, its worldly defires rebuked, and its reli- 
 gious aftedions aw^akened ? The circum%nces 
 therefore, and the folemnity of the original infti- 
 tution render the Lord's fupper highly worthy 
 of our reverence, and fliew the want of this 
 temper in obferving it, to be extremely culpable 
 and criminal. 
 
 Secondly, Another reafon which may properly 
 engage men to confider this inftitution in the moft 
 lolemn light, and pofTefs them with the higheft re- 
 verence whe;i they are employed in it, may be dif- 
 cerncd by attending to its nature and defign. 
 
 Y This 
 
322 SERMON XIX. 
 
 This reafcn bad probably more influence af- 
 terwards, than at the firfi appointment: for at 
 that time it is Hkely that the apofiies v.ere far frora 
 entertaining clear and diftin^l conceptions on this 
 fiibjecl. We know fulliciently, that the Lord's 
 fupper was intended for a commemoration of the 
 death of our Saviour, and that this great event 
 is the objc<St which it . fenfibly reprefents to us. 
 Now there is fomething in the very idea of death 
 which tends to make men ferious and thoughtful. 
 The recoUedion of the lait end of mortals, even 
 when we do not view it with a particular refpeift 
 to ourfelves, throws the foul into a folemn ilill- 
 nefs, which is friendly to every pious and rehgious 
 meditation. But it is not merely the view of 
 death in general that this ordinance fuggelfs : it 
 recalls to our thoughts the death of a particular 
 perfon v/ho fiands in a particular relation to us, 
 and who by his death procures ineflimable blef- 
 iings for us ; a death Vv^hich is defcribed with ,all 
 thofe circumitances that can lay hold of the mind, 
 and excite either admiration, or gratitude, or fym- 
 pathy. 
 
 To confider this fubjcd in its full extent would 
 be more than fafficient for a whole cvifcourfc Let 
 us thcrefoic vievv' the death of Chrift as Iriglly as 
 we can in thefe two lights ; as the death of a great, 
 man, an<l as a mean of purchafmg our reconcilia- 
 tion to God, and our title to eternal life. The 
 firli is a general view, into which even a heathen 
 might critcr, and exprefs his admiration on account 
 r^ it. The f;co:id is particularly interefting to 
 clniftians. . 
 
 Is 
 
SERMON XIX. 323 
 
 Is it then poffible to contemplate the blamelefs 
 life, and the heroic death of Jefus, and not feel 
 the workings of admiration and love? If I met an 
 ignorant and untaught Indian, and could inform 
 him in his own language that at a certain period 
 there lived a mojft extraordinary perfon, who be- 
 fore he was thirty-three years of age, had done 
 more good, and fuffered more evil than any man 
 ever did in the longeft life ; that his whole em- 
 ployment was to promote happinefs, and prevent 
 mifery ; that no human creature ever applied for 
 his aid in vainj that he had the wonderful power 
 of healing all difeafes, of. making men v/ife, 
 gentle, kind, merciful j that in purfuing 
 thefe ends, he refufed neither cold, nor hunger, 
 nor watching, nor poverty, nor reproach ; that 
 notwithftanding all his beneficent adions, his cru- 
 el and wicked countrymen, after making him fuf- 
 fer every hardrtiip, led him to a fhameful execu- 
 tion ; that being perfuaded he could live no lon- 
 ger for the good of mankind, he chearfully died to 
 give them a proof of his firmnefs and conflancy 
 and refignation to the will of the great God ; that 
 he (hewed neither fear of death, nor refentmcnt 
 againft his murderers j that on the contrary, he 
 exprefied the tendered folicitude for their happi- 
 nefs, and prayed for them with his dying breath ; 
 and that he expired after having exhibited a per- 
 fed pattern of patience, meekncfs, forbearance, 
 generofity, fortitude, of every thing great and 
 good ', would not nature work in the honcft fa- 
 vage, and would not his countenance declare the 
 feelings of forrow, love, and admiration ? Shall a 
 lavage then feel, and a chriftian be hardened ? 
 
 Y z But 
 
324 S' £ R M O N XIX. 
 
 But this view of the death of Chrift, intereft* 
 ing as it is, is ftill very imperfed. When, as 
 chriftians, we reflecft that for our fakes he was a 
 man offorrows^ and acquainted with griefs : When 
 we attend to the nature of the bleifings which he 
 purchafed, the favour of God, the means of 
 fandifying our natures, our accefs to glory and im- 
 mortahty ; mufl not all the bell and moft devout 
 feelings of the foul be raifed to the higheft pitch 
 of fervour ! If we attend to the unfpeakable dig- 
 nity of his characfter, to his condefcenfion in becom- 
 ing man, to the amazing fortitude of his death, 
 muft not the higheft admiration rife ? If we view 
 our fins as the caufes of his fufferings, what can 
 we feel but humility, compundion and penitence? 
 If we turn oar obfervation to the fe verity of his 
 pains, the anguifh of his foul, and the torments 
 of his body, muft not fympathy melt the heart and 
 fill the eye ? If we furvey all the bleflings of his 
 purchafe, muft not gratitude to fo generous a be- 
 nefador, and fo divine a friend, exert its influ- 
 ence? But thefe, my brethren, are all fubjeds 
 immediately conneded with the death of Chrift, 
 which we commemorate in the facrament of his 
 fupper. To render our obfervance of this infti- 
 tution acceptable, it is neceffary indeed, that every 
 one of thefe confiderajtions fhould adually occur 
 to the mind. But when an ordinance has a ten- 
 dency to operate upon fo many of the moft vir- 
 tuous principles of our nature, does not this fhew 
 
 ^ jSAiAH^liii. 3, 
 
 that 
 
S E R M O N* XIX. 325 
 
 that it ought to be regarded with the greateft re- 
 verence and veneration ? 
 
 Thirdly, The folemnity of this ordinance, 
 and the reverence due to it, will further appear, 
 if we confider that the obfervance of it implies the 
 exertion of many affedions, which are all in their 
 own nature of higli importance and excel- 
 lence. If each of thefe be facred, furely that 
 which implies them all mufl be particularly fo. 
 
 Now though the principal end of this inflitu- 
 tion be extremely fimple, namely a commemora- 
 tion of the death of Ch rift, yet it involves feveral 
 other views. This may be colleded from what 
 was faid on the laft head. If a fenfe of the prima- 
 ry intention of this ordinance has a tendency to 
 excite fo various feelings as have been pointed 
 out, it is impoffible but thefe muli produce their 
 natural and ordinary efFevfis. Let the communi- 
 cant's view' be turned to the fufferings of Chrift, 
 and to the confideration of lin as the caufe of 
 them ; furely this is extremely natural. But can 
 thefe be the obje6ts of attention to a lincere and 
 honeft mind, without introducing a refolution a- 
 gainft fin, or a prayer for its forgivenefs ? Holy re- 
 folutions then, and fervent prayer, have both 
 their fliare in the devout obfervance of this infti- 
 tution. Yea, the latter, from the pradice of all 
 ages, and the example of our Saviour, is eflential- 
 iy neceiTary before the ordinance can be celebrated. 
 
 I KNOW it may be difputed, wlicther the exa- 
 mination of our eondudp and lefolutioas againft 
 
 all 
 
526 SERMON XIX. 
 
 all fin, be abfolutely requlfite for a proper partici- 
 pation in this facrament. I doubt not but cir- 
 cumfiances might be fuppofecl, in which a good 
 man would think himfclf oblifred to commemorate 
 the death of his Redeemer, without having time 
 for a previous examination of his condu6t, or in 
 which, during the time of his participation, his 
 mind miglit be fo totally occupied with love or 
 gratitude, that he miglit form nodircd refolutions 
 a2;ainft fin. But this is nothing to thofe wlio 
 would be moll anxious to have it determined that 
 fuch exercifes are not neceifary. I^ut put the 
 cafe, that at the time of participation, a man's 
 confcience condemns him for his fins, and impeils 
 him to refolve againft them, which yet the cor- 
 ruption of his heart, and his attachment to vice, 
 engage him to negled. In this fituation, could 
 he approve of his condud ? would not his heart 
 condemn him ^ and if his heart condemn liim, 
 will God juftify him ? At the tribunal of divine 
 juftice, would one choofe to truft to the refine- 
 ments of an acute underftanding, or to the fimpli- 
 city of an upright heart ? Thus refolutions againft 
 fin may often become an indifpenfable part 
 of our duty, during the participation of the Lord's 
 fupper. 
 
 In like manner, if the inimitable love of Jefus 
 Chrift, and the inefiimable bleffings of his pur- 
 chafe, are the objedb of our rcfletflion while we 
 are employed in this duty; docs not the gratitude 
 which thefe excite, naturally engage us to vow 
 perpetual attachment to him, and iicdfaftnefs in 
 his fervice ? If the outv*'ard mcauncfs, the pover- 
 
SERMON XIX. 327 
 
 ty, and low condition of Jefus Chriil, induce us 
 to refled upon the infignificancy and finall im- 
 portance of the -things of this world-, and if at 
 the fame time confcience bring to our remem- 
 brance an initance in which they have had influ- 
 ence enough to make us forf ike the road of inte- 
 grity, and abandon ourfelves to fin; does not this 
 lay us under an obligation to enter into a refolu- 
 tion of repentance, and to begin immediately to 
 carry it into execution ? 
 
 Thus prayer, pious and virt^uous refolutions, 
 vows of attachment, obedience and repentance, 
 if not effentially neceifary to the participation of 
 the Lord's fupper, yet may become indifpenfable 
 parts of our duty during this adion. What there- 
 fore implies fuch ferious and folemn duties muft 
 be an objed of the greatefl reverence. 
 
 Fourthly, My brethern, this inflitution, 
 which is defigned to commemorate the death of 
 Chrift, is alfo intended to carry our thoughts for- 
 ward to his fecond coming. The New Teila- 
 ment conneds it with this event ; it is particular- 
 ly conneded with it in the words of the text; For 
 {U oft as ye eat this breads and drink this ciip^ ye a.o 
 Jhew forth the Lord's death till he come^ If there is 
 any event in nature that can excite the awe, reve- 
 rence and refped of reafonable and accountable 
 creatures, it is fu rely the future jud2;ment. But 
 this judgment is only to take place at the fecond 
 appearance of Jefus. For God has appoi?ited a day 
 in "Mch he will Judge t':e world in righteoiifnefs hy 
 
 ' ' that 
 
328 SERMON XIX. 
 
 that Man whom he hath ordained^, even the Lord 
 Jefiis Chrift the righteous. The apparatus, the 
 procedure, the dignity of the Judge, the particu- 
 lar part we iliall all have in this grand tranfadion, 
 render it particularly interefting and important. 
 If the foul of man can be occupied with any ob- 
 jed, this muft command its regard and attention. 
 To this important event the Lord's fupper natu- 
 rally direds our thoughts. It is a lively reprefcn- 
 tation of tliat obedience of Chrift wito deaths even 
 the death of the crofs ", on account of which God 
 hath highly exalted hiin^ and given him a name which 
 is above eiiery name ', and which, being the ground 
 of his whole exaltation, is confequently the very 
 reafon why God hath given him authority to execute 
 judgment aljo ^. It confirms our faith of the gene- 
 ral judgment, it is a pledge given us, that he who 
 was once offered to bear thejins of ?na?iy^ /hall unto 
 them that look for him^ appear the fecond ritJie, with^ 
 out fin unto falvation ^. Can it fix our thoughts on 
 the future judgment, can it enliven our concepti- 
 on of its folemn procefs, without impreffing every 
 ferious and coniiderate mind with the deepell 
 awe ? 
 
 I SHALL but make two reflexions on what has 
 been faid. ift. Since the Lord's fupper is an in- 
 fiitution of fo s^reat folemnity, we fhould by no 
 means negled to obferve it. Shall any chriftian 
 treat that with negled, which deferves the greateft 
 
 /' ACTS xvii. 31. " PHIL. ii. 8. ' ver. 9. 
 
 ^ JOHN V. 27. ^ KEB. X. 28. 
 
 reverence 
 
SERMON XIX. 329 
 
 reverence from every chriftian ? Not to obferve it, 
 is to treat it with total negled. 'Twas in the 
 night in which he was betrayed to death for you, 
 and it was with all the agonies of his death full in 
 his view that your Saviour faid, Do this in remem- 
 brance of me: can you hear his voice uttered in 
 that night, uttered in that endearing lituation, 
 and yet difregard it ? Every tender, every afFed- 
 ing, every interefting circuraftance of the fcene, 
 which that night exhibited, is a ftrong argument 
 for our continuing in that breaking of bread ^\ 
 which was purpofely appointed for the comme- 
 moration of it. The dignity of him who died, 
 and the end of his death, which was to expatiate 
 fin, add folemnity to this memorial of his death ; 
 and they no lefs powerfully plead for every chrif- 
 tian's joining in this memorial of it. This is the 
 tribute which you are called to pay to the greateft 
 perfon that ever trod this earth ; it is the acknow- 
 ledgment demanded from you, to him v^ho made 
 his foul an offering for your fuis. All thofe good 
 affedions which this inftitution is fit for drawing 
 forth into exercife, it is fit alfo for improving : to 
 negledt it fhews indifference about the improve- 
 ment of our befl afFedions. It is only ChrilVs 
 coming again to judgment, that can extinguifli 
 the obligation of chriftians, to /Iiew forth his death\ 
 till he come let us take every opportunity of do- 
 ing this in remembrance of him. 
 
 ^ ACTS ii. 46. 
 
 Secondlv, 
 
330 SERMON XIX. 
 
 Secondly, Since the Lord's fupper is fo fo-- 
 lemn, fo fit to command the fincereft reverence of 
 our fouls, we fhould be always careful to prepare 
 ourfelves for partaking in it with ferious and 
 fervent devotion. Irreverence in any a6l of 
 worfliip is a heinous fin : but irreverence in 
 obferving this chriftian inftitution, is in fome 
 refpeds peculiarly atrocious : it is a mark of 
 very great depravity : It fhews infenfibility to 
 the moil moving objeds, and obduracy ''vhich the 
 mofl: alarming views cannot overcome. This 
 inftitution may make fome impreffion on the 
 molt unthinking, it may force reile<flion for a 
 moment on the molt dilTipated, it may ex- 
 cite fome emotions of piety, in thofe who 
 are for ordinary the greateft ftrangers to 
 them. The Corinthians obferved it in an 
 irreverent manner ; and the apoftle reproves 
 this irreverence with great feverity, and warns 
 them that it was of the moll dangerous 
 confequence ; JVhoJ'oever Jliall eat this bread 
 and drink this cup of the Lord zinworthilj^ /hall 
 he guilty of the body and blood of the Lord : 
 He that eateth and drinhth unworthily^ eateth and 
 drinketh judgment to himjelf 7iot difcerning 
 the Lords body ^. The religious affedions all 
 prevailing in their greatell vigour, and ming- 
 ling their warmed exertions, form the temper 
 which becomes this commemoration. By ex- 
 
 "coR.xi. 27, 29. 
 
 amming 
 
SERMON XIX. 531 
 
 amining ourrdves, by humble confcffion of 
 our lins, by earneft prayer, by meditation 
 oa whatever can moft effedually melt our 
 hearts into contrition, or touch them with 
 love, and gratitude, and joy in God's falva- 
 tion, let us prepare ourfclves, as often as we 
 have opportunity, for the religious performance 
 of this duty. 
 
 S E R- 
 
SERMON XX. 
 
 Acts xx. 35. 
 
 And to remejnber the words of the Lord Jefus^ how 
 • hejaid. It is more hlejjedto give than to receive. 
 
 JL H E moft interefting concern of human crea- 
 tures is happinefs ; and no rule fo unexceptiona- 
 ble can be fixed for eflimating the value of any 
 objed, or the propriety and importance of any 
 difpofition, or adion, or courfe of behaviour, as 
 its tendency to promote happinefs. But the rule, 
 however univerfally acknowledged, is often very 
 ill applied, and indeed with refped to many pur- 
 fuits and difpofitions is fcarce ever thought of. 
 Nature has provided us with a touchftone, but 
 we negled to try the moft precious metals by it, 
 and by the negled fuffer ourfelves to be impofed 
 upon by the bafeft counterfeits. 
 
 The happinefs which is derived from the ex- 
 ercife of a beneficent temper, is very rarely an 
 objed of confideratioii, efpecially in an age, when 
 
 the 
 
334 S E R M ON XX. 
 
 the fpirit of commerce, the love of lucre, and a 
 contradeU regard tcT the individual, give the 
 firongeil bias to all onr opinions and jiulgments. 
 They who inherit overgrov/n fortunes, they who 
 have received liberal donations, they who have 
 acquired w^eallh, are reckoned among the happy, 
 though they employ them only in fulfilling the 
 purpofes of folly, vanity and vice. A fplendid 
 table, a fine houfe, a handforne equipage, even 
 gaudy apparel, we are more apt to coniider as 
 charaderiflic of the happy man, than generous 
 efforts to relieve the wretched, to fupport the 
 unfortunate, to comfort the difconfolate, to pa- 
 tronize the deferving. Thefe we iliil regard as 
 marks of virtue, but we feldom confider them as 
 fymptoms of happinefs. Even the motives which- 
 excite the generality to adions of a publick and 
 beneficent nature, when they are not merely fordid 
 and felfifli, are fo dependent upon the views 
 fuggefted by our reafoning powers, that they have 
 little connexion with the heart; and the man 
 who fhould urge the pleafure of a kind and bene- 
 ficent acfiion, and the fweet enjoyment which it 
 brings along with it, as the motive to a perfon's 
 performing it, would be deemed ignorant of what 
 is reckoned the moft efiential branch of human 
 knowledge, the knowledge of the world. But in 
 reality, under this boafted knowledge, the blindeft 
 prejudice, and the groffeft ignorance often lurk : 
 and the world, not only in its pureft and moft 
 virtuous, but even in its corrupted and depraved 
 Hate, aflx)rds argument fufhcent to confute the 
 men who value themfelves for knowing it beli 
 
 It 
 
S E R M O N XX. 33S 
 
 It was hinted already, that the moft infilhble 
 teP- of the vahie of any difpofition or behaviour, 
 is its being conducive to the natural and real fe- . 
 licity of men: and to this teft I might fafejy fub- 
 mit ail the laws, and ail the maxims of th(%ofpel. 
 If the temperate, the manly, the confcicntious, 
 not the effeminate, the weak, and the timid, were 
 to be the judges, I fhould not fear the decifioa 
 even with refj^ed to its fevered laws, the endu- 
 rance of perfecution, lofs of goods, refignation of 
 life. 
 
 But our prefent enquiry is more confined. It 
 was the faying of the Lord Jefus, // /x mojr hleffed 
 to give than to receive. In this faying, the felicity 
 of a beneficent temper is afferted in the firongeft 
 manner. The encomium feems to be given to 
 ^he adion \ but it is obvious that human adions 
 are praife- worthy, only fo far as they refult from 
 right difpofitions, and that it is only the agent, 
 that deferves commendation or blame, reward or 
 puniiliment. 
 
 The circumftances of our Saviour's life gave 
 him frequent occafions for introducing this fenti- 
 ment with propriety ; and as it is addreifed to the 
 tender and generous feelings of human nature, it 
 mufl have made the deeped imprelTion on his 
 followers. The application which the apodle 
 Paul makes of this laying in my text, difcovers 
 the effed which it produced on him, and fliews 
 that he regarded it as a pradical truth of the 
 greateft moment. In this laft difcourfe to the el- 
 ders 
 
^ZS SERMON XX. 
 
 ders of Ephefus, whom he had affembled at Mile- 
 tus, he was able to make this noble appeal to 
 them ; / hd've coveted 7io mans filver^ or gold ^ or ap~ 
 pareL Tea, you yourjelves kncw^ that thej'e hands- 
 have inimjtered unto my neceffities, and to them that 
 were with me. I have /hewed you all t hi figs, how 
 that Jo labouring ye ought to Jiipport the weak ; and 
 to remember the words of the Lord J ejus, how he 
 [aid. It is more hlejfed to give^ tiian to receive. 
 Though in thefe words there is a comparifon be- 
 tween the happinefs of beftowing, and that of re- 
 ceiving, yet it will be putting no violence on them 
 to coniider them (imply as a declaration of the 
 blefiednefs of a beneficent temper. That with 
 which this temper is contrafted, and to which it 
 is preferred, being an acknowledged mark of good 
 fortune, and a fource of enjoyment, the other 
 inuft be ftill more fo. 
 
 I PROPOSE, therefore in this difcourfe, to con- 
 firm and illuftrate the happinefs of a beneficent 
 difpofition \ and to fugged a few of thofe refiec- 
 tions which naturally arife from the confideration 
 of this fubjed. 
 
 By a beneficent difpofition, I mean a difpofi- 
 tion to do good to others from the principles of 
 kindnefs, affe(fiion, or humanity, which includes 
 not only ads of charity, generofity and liberality, 
 for thefe muil in a great meafure be dependent 
 upon our external circumftances, but alfo all the 
 means we ufe, the pains we take, or the wifhes 
 
 we 
 
SERMON XX. 337 
 
 We entertain for the comfort, enjoyment and hap- 
 pinefs of our fellow-creatures. That fuch a dif- 
 pofition muft be of the utmofl: confequence to 
 our own fatisfadlon and happinefs, I think will 
 appear evident from feveral confiderations. 
 
 In the firft place, This will appear by confider- 
 ing in general w^hat it is that muft conflitute hu- 
 man felicity. 
 
 To write a treatife concerning human nature 
 requires perhaps as much knowledge, attention 
 and reflexion, as thecompofition of a performance 
 on any other fubjed whatever ; but fuch a treatife 
 is not neceffary, either for diredling our conduO, 
 or for determining the operation of our feelings. 
 We are all men, and we all feel that the gratifica- 
 tion of our natural deiires, where the gratification 
 is not forbidden by any other principle of our 
 mind, is always a fource of enjoyment to us. But 
 the nature, and the kinds of our enjoyments are 
 as different and various as the powers and princi- 
 ples which give rife to them. Except a few of 
 them, however, which regard felf-prefervation, 
 they are almoft all connedcd with our fecial na- 
 tures, infomuch that the enjoyments of a human 
 creature entirely feparated from his kind, tho' 
 poffefTed of all the neceffaries for fatisfying his 
 hunger and thirft, his love of labour, and defire 
 of repofe, would be totally different from thofe of 
 the man who is placed among his fellows. As the 
 fun nourifhes, invigorates, animates objeds ex- 
 ternal to himfelf, and was certainly created with 
 
 Z a rcfe- 
 
338 SERMON XX. 
 
 a reference to them ; as the planets by their mu- 
 tual attradlion promote and preferve the regularity 
 of their feveral motions, fo man was created for 
 man \ and his ftate, his wants, his defires, point 
 out liis connedlion with, and his dependence upon 
 his fellow-men. Phiiofophers have fometimes 
 talked of man's being a felfifli, and a folitary be- 
 ing, having all his views centered in the happinefs 
 of the individual, without the leaft regard to others: 
 but the hut of the Indian, the cottage of the pea- 
 fant, the pipe of the fhepherd, the tent of the 
 wanderer, as well as the concourfe of the city, 
 the palace of the prince, the government of the 
 ftate, contradid the alTertion. 
 
 Religion which, notwithftanding the imper- 
 fedion of its effedls, has occupied a great deal of 
 the joint care and attention of the human race, in 
 every age, and every nation, as far as ever I have 
 read or heard, fhews that a focial concern for others 
 is the objed of man's heart, and the principle of 
 his condud. Without this, I fhould juft as readi- 
 ly believe, that political ftatefmen and cunning 
 priefls have built in ancient times cities without 
 hands, made men of mere clay, and fupported 
 mountains upon their feeble fhoulders, as that 
 they could have introduced religion as a general 
 occupation and employment of mankind. 
 
 Since then the whole of the human frame 
 points to a ftate of fociety and connexion with 
 others, the very nature of defire renders it impofli- 
 hlc that the gratification of thofe affedions which 
 
 refped 
 
SERMON XX. 339 
 
 refpecfl others fhould not be attended with enjoy- 
 ment and happinefs. But the benevolent affec- 
 tions of our nature, our defire to fhed the tear of 
 fympathy over the diftrefTed, to take part in the 
 injuries of the opprefled, and to befriend them, 
 to partake the innocent pleafures of the happy^ 
 are the affedions which mod immediately relped 
 others j and therefore we may conclude that the 
 indulgence of them will be a fource of particular 
 pleafure and delight. 
 
 It further deferves to be remarked, that though 
 the gratification of defires which refpe^f^ the indi- 
 vidual, and the gratification of thofe which ref- 
 pe6l others, have this in common, that they are 
 attended with a certain pleafure, yet they differ in 
 a very material article : the pleafure which attends 
 fuch defires as terminate in the individual, evea 
 when mod intenfe, is confined to the moment of 
 indulgence; to none but the groveling and the 
 Tenfual, is it the objed of agreeable refledion : 
 but the fecial pleafures of our nature are not a- 
 greeable only in the mean time, but extend to 
 difiant periods, and are the objeds of aftcr-confi.- 
 deration, and the fources of permanent enjo)'- 
 ment. The flafi'ies of heaven's lightning dazzle 
 and overpower, but the refplendent and benign 
 rays of the fun cheer, enliven, and afford a light 
 conftant, and invariable, and univerfal. 
 
 I ADD but one more general obfervation. Hu- 
 man creatures are made for adion and exertion. 
 Whenever thefe are employed, a feparate and ad- 
 
 Z 2 ditionai 
 
340 S E R M O N XX. 
 
 ditional plcafure attends the gratification of all out 
 defires. To do good, to beftow, to give, requires 
 an exercife of our a£tive powers. In that ftate 
 when every impulfe is felt, when every power of 
 the mind is awake, we enter with the higheft re- 
 lifli into every pleafiire that nature warrants, and 
 religion fandifies. The mind that groaned undet 
 the load of fuffering, is calm and ferene when that 
 load is removed, but the foul that removed it is 
 elevated. The compofed countenance of relieved 
 diflrefs, the affectionate look of gratitude combine 
 with the pleafnig efforts of liberality and kindnefs 
 to increafe the joy and felicity of the benefactor. 
 
 In the fecond place, tlie happinefs of a benefi- 
 cent difpofition may be proved from fad and ex- 
 perience. 
 
 We are ignorant of our true happinefs, only 
 becaufe we pay fo little attention to what paffesin 
 our own minds, and fuffer ourfelves to be impo- 
 fed upon by external appearances, from which we 
 draw inferences often not in the leafl conneded 
 with them. But an impartial confideration of the 
 fentiments and feelings of our hearts, of thofe fug- 
 geftions which proceed from the conflitution of 
 oar fouls, or the immediate motions of that di- 
 vine Spirit which pervades the univerfe, would 
 free us from numberlefs miftakes, and lead us to 
 exped our enjoyments from fuch objeds as can 
 really beftow them. Now can any man, when he 
 attends to himfelf, doubt wherein his pleafure and 
 enjoyment chiefly confifi ? Deep refearches and 
 
 intricate 
 
S E R M O N XX. 341 
 
 intricate difquifitions are not neceffary for deter- 
 mining it. An ordinary degree of attention only 
 is requifite, and fortitude enough to take the an- 
 fwer implicitly from none, but to truft to the na- 
 tural feelings of one's own heart. Can any per- 
 fon who has the foul of a man hefitate to pro- 
 nounce that among the pureft and beft pleafures of 
 which he is fufceptible are thofe which arife from 
 the opportunities he has laid hold of, to be ufeful 
 to his fellow creatures, to fupply their wants, to 
 eafe the load of their fufFerings, to add to the num- 
 ber of their enjoyments ? When the rich have 
 fpared of their fuperfluities to minifter to the ne- 
 ceffities of the poor, let the luxurious tell if what 
 they referved had not a higher relifh. When the 
 poor, out of real pity to thofe who were flill poor- 
 er, have beftowed a fmall pittance to feed the 
 hungry, or to clothe the naked, was it not natural 
 for them rather to regret that they had not more to 
 give, than that there was too little left behind ? 
 Did the widow, think you, who threw in two 
 mites into the treafury with the beft intention, 
 depart with a heavy heart, becaufe (he had kept 
 nothing to herfelf ? If ever your prefence, your 
 attention, your converfation, your look of filent 
 fenfibility, your falling tears (for thefe I count 
 more facred gifts than your gold, or your filver) 
 have adminiftered confolation to a widowed mo- 
 ther, or difconfolate children, did not your hearts 
 in that moment feel the bleffednefs of giving? and 
 when you came away, would you have exchanged 
 the melancholy pleafure for all the vain illufions 
 of folly and vice ? When the gratulations of the 
 
 blind 
 
342 SERMON XX. 
 
 blind and the lame, and the benedictions of the 
 perifhing foul came upon Job, would he have 
 compared the joy with what arofe from the pof-^ 
 feilion of his oxen, his affes, his camels, and his 
 iields ? It was the character of the Lord Jefus, 
 that he went about continually doing good, footh- 
 ing the penitent, comforting thofe that mourned, 
 raifing up the bowed down, and healing the 
 dife^ifed ^ and as he felt like a man, w^e may con- 
 jedurethe inward joy which this continued courfe 
 of beneficence gave him. I verily believe it to be 
 the chief natural mean that rendered him fo in- 
 trepid, fo patient, fo forgiving, fo refigned. How 
 iimilar to iiim fliould we become, if we yielded to 
 the beft impulfes of our hearts ! If the Ephefians 
 had divided their poflefiions to enrich the apoftle 
 Paul ; how fmall muft his pleafure in receiving it 
 all have been in comparifon vv'ith what he felt 
 from receding, that he had been the miniftcr of 
 God for good unto them, without profpeCi, or 
 poffellion of human reward .f* 
 
 Were the apoflles in general, who watched 
 •with fuch vigilance, and laboured with fuch vi- 
 gour to promote the falvation of mankind, Gran- 
 gers to the moft heart-felt pleafure, becaufe they 
 were not loaded with gifts, fecured in pofTeflions, 
 or furrounded with affluence ? No. They had 
 imbibed the maxim of their Maftcr, // is more 
 hlcfjed to give than to receive:, and while they fuf- 
 fered hunger, and poverty, and perfecution, and 
 death, they rejoiced, and were happy, becaufe 
 {hey were doing good. Abraham might rejed 
 • " . even 
 
SERMON XX. 343 
 
 even royal gifts, and refufe a fepulchre for his fa- 
 mily without paying an adequate value for it ; 
 his condud neither proves that the patriarch was 
 ignorant of the means of happinefs, nor lefTens 
 him in our efteem. But no man ever yet omitted 
 an opportunity of performing a kind, a generous, 
 or a beneficent adion, who did not in that in- 
 ftance abandon the happinefs of his own foul, and 
 render himfclf lels worthy of the approbation of 
 all mankind. 
 
 It is needlefs to multiply inftances. I appeal to 
 yourfelves. Happinefs is within the mind. It is 
 not of our own making, but flows from conftitu- 
 tions that are eftablifhed by the fame power that 
 ordains the revolution of the fun, the courfe of the 
 rivers, the afcent of the vapours. To fuppofe 
 happinefs entirely or chiefly placed in externals, is 
 as ridiculous as to fuppofe that you are as much 
 connedcd with the duft on which you tread, as 
 with that portion of it which the Almighty ope- 
 ration has formed for your body. There is no dif- 
 puting the point. If beneficence renders the foul 
 calm, tranquil, and elevated, it it a fource of 
 felicity, If it aflimilates the mind to God, and to 
 Jefus Chrift, it muft render us partakers of their 
 blifs. If the reflejf^ion upon it is agreeable, if it 
 remains when the hi ft ofthejiejh^ the luji of the eye^ 
 and the pride of life put on an appearance at befl: 
 diminutive, often difguftful ; if it cafts an unfa- 
 ding ray on the lateft hours of human life, and 
 prepares for a participation of the life of angels, 
 
 the 
 
244 SERMON XX. 
 
 the reality, and the value of the enjoyment mull 
 be acknowledged. 
 
 In the third place ; The felicity of a beneficent 
 difpofition may be evinced from this confiderati- 
 on, that by this quality we are moft diredly affi- 
 milatcd to God, and to Jefus Chrift, after whofe 
 image we were at firft created. 
 
 As it is the nature of two drops of water, when 
 placed near each other, mutually to be attraded, 
 and coalefce ; as it is the nature of heavy bodies 
 to fall to the ground, and of light ones to be 
 buoyed up; as it is the nature of worms to crawl 
 upon the earth, of fifties to fwim in the fea, and 
 of birds to fly through the air ; fo it is the nature 
 of the human foul to afpire after a fimilitude to its 
 divine original. The confequences of a fallen 
 ftate, and of corrupted principles, are but too 
 perceptible, and to thefe we juflly impute thofe 
 miftakes, deceptions, difappointments, and dif- 
 gufts with which we meet in our fearch after feli- 
 city. The piety, and the fall of David, the wif- 
 dom, and the weaknefs of Solomon, the zeal, and 
 the infirmity of Peter, with a thoufand inftances 
 that could be produced from facred and profane 
 writers, of the virtue and the ambition of the 
 fame princes, the allegiance and the turbulence 
 of the fame people, might all be brought in proof 
 of the fall of man, if any other proof were requi- 
 lite, than merely to read the hiftory of this ca- 
 tafirophe, and to look into our own hearts. But 
 the inflanccs would ftiew, that though man be 
 
 fallen, 
 
SERMON XX. 34^ 
 
 fallen, he is not annihilated ; that though his 
 luftre be fuUied, it is not extinguifhed. He ftill 
 raifes his mind at times to the contemplation of 
 uncreated excellence, and the inftinds of his heart 
 indicate his relation to the divinity. In every ap- 
 proach that he makes to his primeval purity, he 
 feels the gratulations of his own foul, and enjoys 
 the triumphs of his confcience. But in no way 
 can he become fo like his Maker, as when his 
 heart is intent upon doing good. The beneficent 
 hand of the Almighty formed, and his power fuf- 
 tains the univerfe. He maketh his fun to rife on 
 the evil and on the goody andfendeth rain on the jiift^ 
 and on the unjufl ^. He is good iinto all^ and his 
 tender mercies are over all his works ^. The divine 
 perfon who was the hrightnefs of his glory ^ a?id the 
 exprefs image of his perfon ^, imitated him in his 
 bounty and beneficence, and gave us an example 
 that we fhould follow his fteps. If then the feli- 
 city of man confifts in his refemblance to his Ma- 
 ker, if the joy of the redeemed fhould bear a (i- 
 militude to the delights of the Redeemer, if to 
 participate in the blifs of the Supreme be the fu- 
 preme happinefs of us the emanations of his good- 
 nefs ; furely, // is more hlejfed to give than to re- 
 ceive^ and happy are all who have rightly learned 
 the divine lelTon. 
 
 The fubjed I have been confidering would 
 naturally give occafion for a variety of refledions 
 
 *MAT. V. 45. ^ PSAL. cxlv. 9. ^HEB. i. 3. 
 
 concerning 
 
546 SERMON XX. 
 
 concerning the regulation of our condud. Let us 
 feled a few. 
 
 The general efFed of what has been faid ought 
 to be, to infpire us with the love of a kind, hu- 
 mane, beneficent difpofition, and to lead us to 
 cultivate it in our hearts. It is the heart that is 
 the fource of good, or the fource of evil. The 
 ftreams will ever partake of the qualities of the 
 fountain. If the love of goodnefs be not rooted 
 in the heart, in vain will formal rules, or general, 
 or particular precepts ever attempt to make a 
 virtuous man. When the love of juftice dwells in 
 the heart, two neighbours of the moft extenfive 
 property will eafily agree together. But where 
 this principle is wanting, all the ftatutes that were 
 ever devifed, all the complicated laws that were 
 ever made, will only fet the ingenuity of the 
 mind at work to elude them. The defign of the 
 gofpel is therefore to change the heart, to renew 
 the mind where it is depraved : and the life of its 
 Author, the manner, and the matter of his doc- 
 trine, and all his inftitutions are direded to thefe 
 purpofes. The language of the whole is, My Jon ^ 
 give me thy heart ^, 
 
 If this general cfFed be in any meafure produced 
 upon them who profefs themfelves the difciples 
 of Jefus, what has been faid may fuggeft parti- 
 cular inftrudion to thofe of every rank. How 
 
 ° PRoy. xxiii. 26. 
 
 fbould 
 
SERMON XX. 347 
 
 iliould it enlarge the fentiments, and dilate the 
 benevolence of "the opulent, making them confi- 
 der riches as the gifts of heaven for the good of 
 mankind, and the happinefs of their own fouls? 
 With what wifdom is the advice given, to make to 
 yoiirf elves friends of the mammon ofiinrighteoiifncj's^ 
 that when ye faiU they may receive you into everlaft- 
 ins: habitations ^ ? In every corner, upon every 
 fpot, the objeds of misfortune prefent themfelves 
 to our view, if we will not fhut our eyes from 
 feeing them. I grant there is a felcdion and a 
 caution neceffary in difpenfmg our charity, or 
 liberality. The avowed folicitors of it are neither 
 perhaps the moft meritorious, nor the moft indi- 
 gent. But bleffed heaven ! how generous is it, 
 how delightful to prevent thofe whofe hearts re- 
 fufe to afk it, and to wipe away the tear that 
 flows from fecret forrow, to befriend thofe that 
 have known better days, and entertained happier 
 profpe<5ls, to eafe the anguifh of a mother's heart, 
 who fuffers more for her orphans than for herfelf. 
 What means of luxurious enjoyment does money 
 thus employed afford! And know that, judiciouf- 
 ly applied, even a fmall revenue may confer much 
 power of doing good. Beftowed with fympathy, 
 giving without oftentation, attended with the fin- 
 cere look of honefl kindnefs, a fmall thing to ma- 
 ny is a great matter. 
 
 « 
 
 But farther, though the bledings of this world 
 fhould not fall to our fhare, how much it is in the 
 
 ^ LUKE xvi. g. 
 
 power 
 
34S SERMON XX. 
 
 power of every man to beftow upon the wretched ? 
 The hard-hearted alone are ignorant, how far at- 
 tention, compaflion, feafonable advice, kind 
 Avords can go to alleviate many of our forrows, 
 and our fufferings. The tear that mingles with 
 mine as it falls, its value cannot be reckoned in 
 gold, or filver. The affedion I perceive in my 
 friend when my heart is overwhelmed, if I could 
 compare it with the idol of the interefted, let my 
 heart never perceive it again. 
 
 Finally, Let what has been faid cheri{h in 
 us a fpirit fuperior to the little fordid views of be- 
 ing dependent upon others for the neceffaries of 
 life. The apoflle wrought with his hands that he 
 might be burdenfome to none, and that he might 
 have fomething to beftow. // is more hlejfed to 
 give than to receive. All the duties of benevolence, 
 of compaflion and of kindnefs, to an honeft heart 
 mufl: be granted, not folicited. The man that 
 throws himfelf upon the charity of the w^orid 
 without abfolute necefllty, by that very adion 
 renders himfelf lefs worthy of it, and renders the 
 beft men lefs difpofed to give it. The charity of 
 a chriftian is an offering of his heart. The call to 
 it is not the importunate cry of the mendicant, but 
 the obfervation of human fuffering and diftrefs. 
 As we are men, let us yield to this call where we 
 difcern it, and let us never try to raife the emoti- 
 ons of pity, or engage the hand of charity, when 
 Providence calls us rather to give than to receive. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
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