YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ESSAYS ON MORAL AND RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. BY DANIEL COPSEY. "I " Moral and religious instruction derives its efficacy, pot so much from what men are taught to know, as from what they are brought to feel." PUBLISHED BY L. B. SEELEY, IN FLEET STREET. TOtlNTED B¥ M, SMITH, BBAINTREE. TO ®fje &6le &6bocate OF " PRACTICAL PIETY," AND OF "CHRISTIAN MORALS," THIS ON MORAL AND RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS, IS INSCRIBED, fBF PERMISSION,) A SINCERE TRIBUTE OF GRATEFUL ESTEEM, BY HER MOST OBLIGED AND OBEDIENT SERVANT, THE AUTHOR. J.T will be allowed by all, that the subjects dis cussed in the present volume, are very important. A writer on religious topics has this advantage, that the sacred nature of his theme, and the reverence with which it is regarded by his readers, tend to soften the asperities of criticism, and so far to identify the writer wi<|h his subject, as to procure him a certain degree of merit for his attempt, although he may not have distin-r guished himself in the performance. If he do not gain applause, he is at least in a great measure sheltered from contempt. The weak are most exposed to censure, when they attempt any display to which strength is indispensable; but they obtain regard as well as protection, when they cling to a noble support. The ivy that twines around the oak, derives some consequence from its situation, and from the character of the tree on which it finds eminence and defence; for the blow which strikes the one, wounds also the other. viii. PREFACE. The subjects treated on in the following pages, are not such as require so much the aid of novelty, to se cure them a portion of attention, as of earnestness and sincerity in enforcing their importance. Although re ligion is one of the noblest principles of our nature, yet there is nothing in -which our welfare is involved, that requires to be so often brought before our notice, and urged on our attention. He succeeds best in the attempt to attract this notice, and to obtain this attention, who embodies his ideas in the most impressive language, and arranges his thoughts in the most striking point of tiew ; and not he who endeavours to say some new thing. It is not pretended that these points have been gained in the subsequent Essays, but the efforts of the writer have been directed towards their attainment ; and " al though it be but little that is attained, the very aim is right, and something there is that is done by it." A feeble agent may become the instrument of effecting much good i because in the case of all works of a re ligious nature, the quantum of benefit produced by them, depends more on the state of the reader's mind, than on the ablest efforts of the writer; In the Essay on the Holy Scriptures, that internal evidence is chiefly insisted on, which consists in a won derful adaptation of their contents to the condition of man. This kind of evidence is underrated by some, who think that the historical proofs which may be ad duced of the Divine origin of the Bible, are so strong PREFACE. IX- and so numerous, that they should be discussed almost exclusively, and insisted on as completely satisfactory to every sincere inquirer after truth; In those works, in which the existence and attributes of the Deity are proved from his works, no small stress is laid on the ex act adaptation of all animals to the elements in which they live, and the agreement between the structure of all their parts, and their various habits and instincts. This confornlity could not have been produced without design, nor could it haye been effected by any other than an Omnipotent and Ali-wise Agent. Why should not the same kind of argument be both legitimate and powerful j When applied to the grand doctrines of Re velation ? While it is calculated to convince the gain- sayer, it has also an evident tendency to give additional satisfaction to the mind of a believer. The rapid spread of Socinianismj and the activity of its advocates, will be a sufficient reason for the attempt, in the Essay on the Deity of Christ, to " contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints," how weak soever that attempt may prove. In offering some remarks on the Public Worship of God, the main design of the writer has been to en force spirituality of mind, in the discharge of that so lemn duty. But in doing this, he has been led to make some observations on the discipline maintained, in sev eral communities of christians. He trusts that what he -* b X. PREFACE. lias stated on this head, will be received with candour. He has not written as an enemy, but as a friend ; and as it is presumed that no society lays claim to infalli bility, some improvement may be derived from the sug gestions of one who renounces all intention of legislating, while he requests a calm consideration of what he has advanced. Of the duty and nature of Prayer, we cannot be too often reminded, prone as we are either to neglect it, or to become mere formalists in the observance of this sacred service. No other apology is requisite, for the endeavour which the author has made to urge to dili gence and spiritual-mindedness, in the performance of this duty. The vice of Covetousness, to which so many are exposed in a flourishing and wealthy nation, and which is often so secret in its operations, as not to be easily de tected, seems to call for repeated efforts to strip off its mask, and expose its influence. How far the Essay on this subject has succeeded in accomplishing these ob jects, must be left to the judicious reader. Some of the many deceits of the human heart, are attempted to be laid open in the Essay on Self -Know ledge, which, it is hopedj will not be perused without some advantage to the reader. — "Know Thyself" is confessedly the hardest lesson in ethics ; and therefore the student in so important a branch of moral science, PREFACE. XI, should haye every assistance that can be afforded ; " line upon ljne, and precept upon precept," far from being tedious and unnecessary, wjU only tend to promote his adyancemenf. Let it not be objected to any partof the following work that it is not sufficiently sectarian, — that no attempt is made to extol one religious party, at the expense of another, and that what the author conceives to be the right side of any question, is honestly [stated, without regard to the party who chances to claim i\. The best way to oppose error, is to maintain truth. If this excellent maxim were more generally acted upon, we should hear less railing in matters of religion, and it would not be esteemed necessary to the prosperity of any religious society, to prove others wrong, so much as to show that themselves were in the right. ^ But ma ny persons seem to think, that whenever they make mention of any other religious denomination, they are bound in justice to their own party, to affix to it some gjjgma, on account of what they deem erroneous senti ments, or to cast a sneer at some of its supposed super stitious practices ; and thnt the best way to manifest their own attachment to any peculiar doctrines or disci pline, is to discover open hostility against all who dif fer frpm them. To those who cannot speak of other sects, without pronouncing a harsh judgment upon them, or -at feast expressing a pretended charitable (but really bigoted) concern for the future safety of their souls, the Xll. PREFACE. writer begs leave to recommend a careful consideration of the following very appropriate address ; " Hast thou no regard to the commandment of thy Lord ? Or has he given a more express commandment than this; "Judge not, that ye be not judged; for with what judg ment ye judge, ye shall be judged ; and with what mea sure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again," Does not he, on whom thou darest to sit in judgment, profess to be a disciple of Jesus as well as thou ? Whether he be really so or not, is another's affair, and not thine. In every view this practice is condemned. — It is fraught with danger to yourselyes, with injury to your neigh bour, and with impiety to your Lord. What shall we say of those, who differ from us in important articles ? What shall we say, but — that in our judgment they err, not knowing the Scriptures! What more should we say ! It belongs to the Omniscient Searcher of hearts, and to Him only, to say whether their error, if they be in an error, proceeds from depravity of disposition, or from causes in which the will has no share. Is it for us to determine how much wood, hay, and stubble, may be reared upon the only foundation Jesus Christ; though the foreign materials, by the Apostle's account, will be consumed in the fiery trial they must undergo, yet the builder himself will be saved ? We are ever, like Peter, turning aside from the point in hand, (which is what immediately concerns ourselves,) and, by a curiosity, much less justifiable than his, inquiring what will be- PREFACE. X1U. come of this man. When such a question arises in thy mind, O my fellow Christian, think thou hearest the voice of thy Divine Master, checking thy impertinence in the words addressed to the Apostle, — {< What is that to thee ? Follow thou me !" (Campbell's Sermons.) i C03VTmjPT8* ESSAY I. On the Holy Scriptures - - - page 1 ESSAY II. On the Deity of Christ - - - - — 70 ESSAY III. On Public Worship — 118 ESSAY IV. On Prayer — 165 ESSAY V. On Covetousness ------ — 189 ESSAY VI. On Self-Knowledge — 212 ESSAY I. OJV THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. -K-ELIGION has its foundation in the nature of man. A form of religion of some kind or other, ob tains throughout the world. The necessity of it is thus universally acknowledged ; while the nature of the various religions which are professed, is as varied and opposite as the complexions of men, or the climates of the globe. While man enjoyed the innocence and bliss of Pa radise, he held immediate intercourse with heaven. God came down to man, and communicated to him the knowledge of his will. Man was constituted lord of the creation, and was established in all the rights of that empire by the express command of God. His autho rity was delegated to him immediately from heaven ; but as soon as sin entered into the world, the " presence of the Lord God " could no longer be endured by guilty man. The communion between heaven and earth was suspended, and another mode of communication be came necessary. This is supplied in the written reve lation of the mind and will of God, which we call the Bible. Man is a sinner, and has in consequence forfeited all means of ascertaining the will of God ; therefore all the knowledge of divine things which can be imparted to him, must be "given by inspiration of God." And this necessity of a divine commuication is acknow ledged in every religious system that ever existed in the B 2 OK? THE HOLY SCRIPT IRES. world. The universal consent of mankind proves this necessity. There never was a form of religious wor ship in the world which was not professedly founded either on an immediate communication from heaven, or on the interpretation of a revelation formerly given. The forebodings of man's mind, impressed on his soul by God, the force of his reason given him also by God, may lead him to some faint hope of another life ; but without a revelation from God he can neither serve Tiim aright, nor can he ever attain to a knowledge of the resurrection from the dead. That his existence here may terminate in another state of being, and that his actions here may, in some sort, have an influence on the happiness and misery of that state of being, is the ex tent of knowledge to which unassisted reason Can at tain. Indeed it may be questioned whether this partial knowledge, to which some of the heathen attained, was ever acquired by any one of the human race by the mere strength of the mind, but is rather a conclusion derived from tradition, and that tradition derived ori ginally from a revelation from God. The three great lights to direct man through the world are reason, conscience, and revelation. By the aid of the first he may attain to the knowledge of the ex istence of a God, and of his attributes of goodness, and wisdom and power. Conscience will not fail to ad monish him, and to accuse him when he deviates from rectitude, and to approve when he acts virtuously. But witout revelation he can never know how God is to be worshipped, nor what end is to be answered toy his cre ation, nor what consequences are to ensue upOn his death. Natural religion, as it is termed, is indebted to reve lation; and without it, will always degenerate into the wild and extravagant excesses and crttelties of super stition. We know to what absurdities natural religion ON TttE HOJLY SCRIPTURES. , 3t cpnducted the Greeks and Romans, and other nations, who never enjoyed the advantage of revelation. Man needs a guide in this matter to direct his religious prin ciple, and to afford him satisfaction in the observance of religious duties, which cannot result from any ob servances which man has invented. There is always an uncertainty and fear attached to the strictest ob- , servance,of the whoh^.ceremonial.of heathen worship ; and certainty and satisfaction can alone be found in the assurance of having an authentic, communication from . God, and in living agreeably to that communication. Laying aside the Divine authority of the Bible, and regarding it merely as a faithful history of facts ; — (and in this respect it is as well authenticated as any received history, for it narrates in the first part the origin and progress of a people who still preserve its records with religious veneration ; and the second part relates to the establishment, and explains the doctrines of a religious system, which is still extant and flourishing ; ) take the Bible then, merely as a history, of facts, and it informs us of a religion built upon a revelation from God ; every circumstance of its foundation, and the forms of its worship are declared to be according to Divine com mand. In the Old Testament we find the whole fabric of the religious system resting on the alleged authority of an immediate revelation from God to Moses. And the New Testament is a system of doctrines and precepts founded on the personal instructions of the Son of God. What were the widely extended superstitions of the Greeks and Romans, but a professed revelation from their gods. Pretending to a written message from their Olym pus, they preserved the Sibylline oracles with religious. care, and undertook nothing of moment, either in peace or war, without previously consulting these writings* Whether these oracles were merely a d, THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. are as powerful, the wiles and devices of Satan beset him as constantly ; he finds not only his own character exhibited in the history of others, as far as relates to his conduct and depraved inclinations, but he sees the whole anatomy of his own heart, all the secret springs of his actions, all his inward motives, and hidden pur poses, and false reasonings, and rebellious murmurings against the government of God, faithfully exhibited, proving to him that "as in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man." Thus he is led to the only refuge which the Bible offers to the penitent sinner, and which he sees to be mer cifully suited to his own case. With the same evil heart and depraved inclinations, he finds the same renewing and sanctifying grace. Exposed to similar dangers, he flees to the same strong-hold. Equally guilty, he claims and enjoys the same pardon. As helpless and ignorant, and beset by the same snares and temptations, he re ceives from the same source strength, wisdom, and de liverance. With like fears, and misgivings, and trou bles, and sorrows, he shares in the same encouragements, and deliverances, and consolations. A pilgrim in the same journey — a stranger in the same land — a competitor in the same course — a soldier in the same warfare, he finds similar directions and refreshments and enter tainment, the same prize held out before him, the same captain to command, and the same crown for his eternal reward. In fine, — lost, ruined, perishing, sinful, feeble, blind and destitute, he partakes of the common salvation ; and having struggled with the same difficulties , and dangers, and departed in the same faith, he joins the company of just men made perfect in the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. There is also a remarkable congruity between the ge neral instructions that are of universal application, ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 19 which the Bible 'supplies, and the prospects unfolded, both of happiness and misery, and the constitution of man's nature, the forebodings of his mind, and the terrors and dictates of his conscience. With regard to the whole condition of man upon the earth, there is a surprising suitableness in the Bible. Society is the state in which men naturally desire to live ; and while the Constitution of their nature leads them to this state, and fits them for it by imparting a willingness to submit to all its necessary regulations, and to afford that mutual aid which tends to the good of the whole, the Bible presents the basis of the laws by which societies should be regulated, and informs us of the purest mo tives which should influence and guide our affections. We are here under the moral government of God — in a state of probation for another world, and in the Bible we find every direction to guide us, every thing to en force the government of our Creator, and every necessary information respecting a future state. Fear and hope are the most powerful principles by _which man is actuated. The dread of evil, or the ex pectation of profit influences all our actions. Indeed one includes the other; for the desire of wealth is sti mulated by the fear of poverty ; while health is valued, and earnestly sought, sickness and pain are the evils which at the same time are dreaded and avoided ; the love of life arises from the fear of death, as well as from enjoyment. Now the Bible furnishes the most alarming representations to excite our fear, and the most at tractive promises to awaken our hope. There is a universal foreboding in the mind of man of a judgment to come, of the fearful effects of the wrath of an angry God, and of the consequences of transgression ; and the Scriptures meet this foreboding with the plainest declarations respecting the depravity 20 ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. of human nature, and the awful end that awaits the impenitent sinner. Why does man shrink from the un seen world, and tremble to appear a disembodied spi rit in the presence of his Creator ? The Bible gives the only satisfactory answer, by acquainting us with the apostacy of all mankind, and the means of recovery and restoration to the favour of God. Here the in fluence of hope begins to be felt on the mind. The promises of the Word of God, exactly suit the case of fallen man. The consciousness of immortality, in some degree inseparable from the soul of man, is only a source of terror and dismay, while a sense of guilt tends to array a future state in every feature that is for midable to the human mind ; but the promises of the Gospel, whereby we know that " Jesus Christ hath abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light," furnish an antidote to this fear, and discover a cheering light rising amidst so dreary a darkness. When these promises are received into the heart by faith, they produce such a well-founded hope, as can not be shaken by the misgivings of the heart, the op position of the world, the trials and troubles of life, or the assaults of Satan. The inextinguishable love of life in man, and the promise of eternal life in the Gospel ; the dread of pain and suffering, and the promise of endless happiness and unvarying joy; the possession of so many various faculties of the mind, and promises of gratification to them all ; unite in producing a hope which presses forward to the heaven whence it origi nated, and where it looks for the consummation of all its expectations. " Hope, with uplifted foot set free from earth, Pants for the place of her ethereal birth ; On steady wings, sails through th' immense abyss, "lucks amaranthine joys from bow'rs of bliss, ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 21 *' And crowns the soul while yet a mourner here, With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear." Cowper: Again, — We have another evidence of the Divine origin of the Bible in the nature and design of the miracles which' it records. All religious systems are attempted to be established by the evidence and authority of something super natural. Indeed, no other evidence will bs admitted for the truth of a revelation which is in itself a de parture from the course of nature, and must therefore bring with it, as vouchers of its authenticity, some miracles to which an appeal may be made for its truth and authority. — In so important a question as whether any religion be from God, or be an imposture, men ought not to decide on any evidence short of the exer cise of a supernatural power in the performance of miracles to establish the authenticity of the revelation. And these miracles should be of a nature, and have such a manifest tendency as to show that they have in truth proceeded from God. To constitute the genuineness of miracles, we must have proof that they were performed openly, before disinterested persons, and were universal in success; they must bear the closest inspection and examination both of friends and enemies; the end to be obtained must be worthy of the exercise of a supernatural power ; and they must tend in some way to the good of man and the glory of God ; they must be recorded by eye witnesses, and these witnesses must be credible persons, who cannot be supposed to have any sinister views in their testimony. If we examine the miracles recorded in the Old and New Testaments, we shall find that they possess more or less all these marks of genuineness. Among tJ»a 22 ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. miracles recorded in the Old Testament, those per formed by the ministry of Moses are the most numerous, and the most remarkable. They were exhibited before the eyes of a whole nation, and that nation inimical to the people for whose sakes these wonders were displayed. The deliverance of the children of Israel from Egypt was to be accomplished by the conviction on the minds of their task-masters, that their freedom was demanded in the name of God; and therefore this demand was corroborated by a display of the most wonderful mi racles. So long as the magicians, and sorcerers, and wise men of Egypt, either performed similar miracles, or seemed to do so, Pharaoh appeared to have some reasonable excuse for detaining the Israelites; but in the progress of the miracles, the power of these magi cians was, surpassed, and themselves fell under the same plagues, and were constrained to acknowledge that the power of God was evidently manifested. And it is worthy of remark that although these sorcerers produced similar appearances, the prophets of the true God were always intreated to intercede for the removal of the plagues. Here the art of the magician failed him. There was no failure on the part of God's ministers; had they denounced a plague, and it had not been in flicted, they might have been justly rejected as im- postors And the end to be obtained, was worthy of the means employed. A people were to be separated from the world of idolaters, that the worship of the true God- might be maintained in purity, and that glory might. redound to God. These miracles were also recorded by the person who performed them, and the records were open to the inspection of those who had witnessed the performance ; and they are still preserved by the descendants of those people. ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 2-J Of the miracles of the New Testament, we may safely affirm that they will bear the most rigorous ex amination, by the marks which we have stated as proofs of the genuineness of miracles. Jesus Christ professed to be a teacher from heaven, vested with Divine power and authority to establish a system of religion, more spiritual than that which was maintained by the Jews, and in direct opposition to the superstitions and profane rites of heathen worship. He constantly ap pealed to the wonderful works which he performed, as proofs of the Divine authority of his mission. These works were done openly in the^ face of his enemies, as well as of his friends ; they were performed sometimes with, and sometimes without the concurrence of the subjects of them,— sometimes on persons present, at their own request ; at other times on persons absent, at the intercession of others, — on the young and old, the rich and the poor, the blind, the deaf, the lame, the diseased, the paralytic, the possessed, the dying, and the before his notice; and he that offers praise, or he that comes with a heavy heart under the pressure of trouble and sorrow, may feel himself more powerfully induced to join in the service, when he perceives that his own personal case is forming the subject of the minister's address to the Throne of Grace. These advantages, however, are thought by some more than counterbalanced by the disadvantages which attend extempore prayer. Such prayers are always too brief to comprehend the united interests of a con gregation, a neighbourhood, a country, the catholic church, and the whole world. It would require too great an effort in the officiating minister, to prolong this part of the service to a sufficient extent to embrace all these topics with any circumstantial detail. And what ever care may be employed, it is impossible that a si milarity of expression should not occur, and a similarity in the structure of prayers not be visible, ' amounting almost to the use of a form, without its advantages. '' Where the prayer is thus necessarily abridged, an undue length of time is generally devoted to the sermon ; and many persons are thus led to look on the prayer with an inferior regard, and to esteem preaching as the phief part of the service on the Lord's day. ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 149 A written form of prayer is supposed to prevent any doubt arising in the mind of the worshipper, whether he can give his assent to the petitions about to be offered up. When present at extemporaneous prayer, he is under the necessity of suspending, as it were, the desires of his soul, till the conclusion of a sentence shall have put him in the possession of the design of the petitioner, and enabled him to add his hearty Amen. Prayer is made in this case more an exercise of the judgment than of the affections. We cannot at all times be in circumstances, which will allow us to ascertain the piety and the sentiments of him, who is to officiate in offering up the devotions of the congregation ; and without this previous knowledge, we cannot be prepared to join in spirit and in truth in, those petitions which are about to be offered by him, according to the present suggestions of his mind. The knowledge and prudence of persons who discharge the sacred office of the ministry, are by no means always in proportion to their piety. Hence the minds of the worshippers are not secure from offence, by the use of improper expressions, too familiar to be addressed to the Infinite Majesty of heaven and of earth, or too low to be employed in connexion with subjects of infinite importance. In public extempore prayer, every one is subject to have the train of thought which suggests his petitions, broken in upon by sudden distractions ; hence we often hear a sentence commenced, which, from the uncon nected way in which it is completed, evidently shows that no precise, no defined petition was clearly conceived in the mind of the speaker. The awful attributes of God, and the hallowed appellations by which he is ad dressed, are sometimes recited so frequently and unne cessarily, as to bring him that speaks under the charge of using vain repetitions, and of being guilty of a vio- 150 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. lation of the third command of the Decalogue. It would be better to make a silent pause, than thus to employ the titles of the Deity as mere expletives, till we can so far recover our thoughts as to frame a new petition. All these evils, and they are not of small magnitude, are prevented by the use of a form with which we are previously acquainted. And why may not all the ad vantages which are supposed to attend extemporaneous prayer, be enjoyed with the use of a precomposed form, made comprehensive enough to notice generally all the afflictive events which befal mortal men, and all the blessings which a God of mercy is continually dis pensing to his unworthy creatures ? Every individual according to his peculiar circumstances, might appro priate a certain petition, or a certain thanksgiving, to his own private case, and thus offer to God a lively sa crifice, attended with an effort of the understanding. And in extraordinary cases of affliction, or of gracious deliverance, an individual may be noticed even by name, as desiring an interest in the prayers of the con gregation, or calling upon them to join in assisting him to give praise to God. The same blessings are supplicated by all christians, in all assemblies for religious worship, with this differ ence only, that the same words are not always used by those who employ extemporaneous prayer ; while those who adopt a precomposed form, come to God from time to time, not only with the same desires, but ex-t press them also in the same language. Let those chris tians who conscientiously adhere to the former practice, guard against any want of reverence, against the in vention of expressions to be put in the place of prayer, while the heart is dull, and the mind a complete blank ; against using words, with a secret reference to the ap plause of those who listen, and thus exalting the gift ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 151 of prayer, to the depreciation of the spirit and grace of that holy service. And let those who are sincerely at tached to those forms of prayer, which are venerable for their antiquity, and beautiful for their simplicity and solemnity, take heed lest their devotion be no more than a form, lest they substitute the regular and unva rying repetition of " sound words," for the power and life of godliness, and be satisfied with that " bodily ex ercise" which profiteth not. Let them maintain a con stant watchfulness of heart, lest their service be only that drawing near to God with the mouth, which is an abomination in his sight, because the heart is far from him — because the soul remains unengaged in the ex ercise. It may not be improper to notice also the postuTe of body assumed in prayer. It is the custom in many congregations for all to stand during this part of the worship ; and this practice is not without the counte nance of the early ages of Christianity. But the custom of standing during public prayer, was observed by the primitive christians only on the Lord's day ; and then not from any notion of its being a posture more suited to the duty than kneeling, but because they esteemed the Lord's day a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving, and therefore accounted it improper even to use a pos ture, which did not seem to imply the gladness of their hearts. To defend the practice of standing during prayer, by any expressions of Scripture, which appear to sanction it, is not a proper mode of defence. The question is not whether standing be lawful, but whether kneeling be not a posture more agreeable to the duty. We may use the Apostle's argument, when writing against an indecent custom which had gained ground in the Co rinthian church, and ask, " Does not nature itself teach" 152 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. us to assume the posture of kneeling, when supplicating the aid of a superior ? How much more, when we are calling at a set time, and in a solemn manner upon Him that made us ! Most christians, it is presumed, kneel in their private devotions ; and no rational objection can be brought against the adoption of the custom in public. Some persons have however objected to it as inconvenient ; but even if this ought to have any weight when the worship of God is concerned, it does not ap pear that the inconvenience can apply to any thing but the dress of the worshippers, which may certainly be somewhat discomposed by bending the knee ; but this objection is too frivolous to merit notice. Not only is kneeling a more natural and becoming posture, but it has a tendency to induce a degree of solemnity in the mind ; and it precludes many wandering thoughts and sinful imaginations, by narrowing the scene in which the roving eye might wander, in the foolish observance of the persons and dress of those who compose the as sembly. Preaching is so important an ordinance in the chris tian church, that when faithfully discharged, and di ligently attended to, it is the grand means employed by the Divine Spirit in turning men from darkness to light, and bringing them from the bondage of Satan into the liberty of the children of God. Where there is earnest preaching, there will generally be attentive hearing. But many hearers seem to forget the object which they should have in view, when they listen to the instruction given from the pulpit ; they seem to expect to be con firmed in all their preconceived opinions, and are willing to hear nothing but what exactly tallies with their own sentiments. They do not go so much to be instructed, as to be rooted and grounded in certain notions which they have adopted ; and they will never bear so much ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 153 as to hear these questioned, much less controverted. Nay, their favourite doctrines must be enforced in evfery sermon, whether connected with the subject un der discussion, or foreign to it ; if this is not done, they charge the minister either with opposing or suppressing what they call the truth. They require partial exhibi tions of Divine Truth ; the promises of Scripture must be largely explained, but the commands are to be passed over as not of equal force, or they must be selected, and some only of a particular class enforced. A re ligion of feelings and notions must form the basis of all the pulpit. discussions, as the only true theme of evan gelical preaching ; and every thing of a practical na ture, must be laid aside as legal and slavish. The in scrutable deerees of God must be attempted to be laid open with a daring hand, while a constant interdict is laid on all the scriptural invitations to sinners to return to God, on all the free and gracious offers of pardon and eternal life made to the whole world of mankind, and on all the commands which require holiness of heart and of life. The preacher must restrict the number of the redeemed to such only as agree with them in every article of their faith, and must learn to consign with ex pressions of apparent satisfaction, the greater part of the human race to everlasting perdition. These persons sit more in the capacity of judges, than in the character of hearers : they hesitate hot to pass a decided judg ment on the preacher's faith and sincerity, as well as on his talents. This arrogance is mistaken by them for an earnest contending for the faith ; and their dog matical spirit for a faithful adherence to evangelical doctrines. It is granted that we are not to listen to a sermon, with the same reverence with Avhich we receive the Word of Inspiration, nor to give implicit credence to all that 154 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. is advanced from the pulpit. Christians are commanded to try the spirits whether they be of God, but they are to conduct this trial in the christian spirit of humility and charity, and by the rule of Holy Scripture, not by their own attainments or notions. An inflexible ad herence to truth may be maintained without intolerance. We may discriminate without being censorious, and judge without prejudice, and decide without bigotry. Opinions hastily formed and obstinately supported, are not proofs either of discernment or of piety. We do not find that the humble andtender-hearted,who are deep ly convinced of sin — who hunger and thirst after righ teousness, and whose souls are lively in enquiring " what is truth," are at any time censorious hearers. They are too sincere in their pursuit of Divine Truth, and too sensible of the importance of the salvation of the soul, and too jealous of their own hearts, to feel themselves at liberty to criticise the preacher, or to bring his doc trine to the test of their own judgment. They desire rather to be instructed and edified, than amused ; and are disposed to overlook, rather than to magnify the defects of a preacher. Fastidiousness in hearers is a mark of diseased reli gious opinions, or of declension in the warmth and zeal of that faith which worketh by love. When men slacken in their religious course, they are apt to rebuke others very sharply for real or supposed faults and de fects. Those who are remiss in self-examination, are prone to become censorious hearers. They look less into their own hearts, and more into the deficiencies of the preacher. Self-application, which has justly been called the only end of hearing, is laid aside ; and they judge the preacher, instead of trying their own cha racter by his instructions. If there be ground for men to bring charges against preachers, the latter have also ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 155 too much cause to retort the charge. With a small al- . teration, the sentiment of the poet may be applied to this subject, and we may justly say, " Ten censure wrong for one Who speaks amiss." There is for the most part worse hearing than preaching : ministers are ordinarily more earnest, than their audi tories are attentive : and defective indeed must that. sermon be, from which a sincere and spiritually-minded, person can derive no instruction — no benefit. " The worst speak something good," and the "true and honest, heart" will discern that good, and receive it with, thankfulness. A preacher has a solemn message from God to deliver, to his fellow-men. Gravity and earnestness should therefore mark the whole of his deportment, both in and out of the pulpit. He that can use lightness in the pulpit, or excite a smile on the countenances of his hearers, must not complain that he has spent his strength for nought. The only fruits that can be expected from such trifling, are indifference, carelessness, and mockery at sin. Preachers who show by their conduct in life, that they are themselves unimpressed with those truths, which they charge on the consciences of men, and un-. influenced by those things which they profess to enforce on othprs as all-important, do thwart the very design of the Gospel, and harden men in their sin, while they call, them to repentance ; " for the sins of teachers, are the, teachers of sin." Who can say how much of the open profaneness of some, and the secret hypocrisy of others, is chargeable on the unworthy conduct of those who " minister in holy things," and are themselves unsanc- tified in heart and conversation ! Too great circumspection cannot be employed by those, whose office it is to examine and ordain candi- 156 on public Worship. dates for the ministry. Piety towards God is undoubt edly the chief consideration, but to this should be added talent, prudence, and some experience; It is a "wise regulation, in the Established Church, which allows not any to preach till they have attained, at least, the age of twenty-three years; but among other christian soci eties, the sacred office is too frequently intrusted into the inexpert hands of youths, whose forwardness subse quent events have shown to haye been their chief quali fication. Persons young in years, and younger in christian experience, who ought rather to be studying silence in the school of Pythagoras, than delivering sermons with supercilious authority, are placed in the pulpit to instruct men in the way of salvation, and are loaded with the ministerial charge before they have given any assurance of their own stability. This is the way to bring the office itself into contempt, on account of the incompetency of those who attempt to discharge it. The youth of Timothy, the young Bishop of Ephesus, ordained by the great Apostle of the Gentiles, is often adduced in defence of the Custom of allowing youths to commence public preachers, as soon as they enter on their studies for the sacred ministry and before they have received ordination ; but it does not follow that Timothy was a boy, because St. Paul wrote to him, " Let no man despise thy youth." And he certainly possessed extraordinary qualifications for the office of a minister, to which we may suppose few of our stripling orators would venture to enforce a claim. Moreover, we should certainly hear less of our young Timothys, if we had aged Pauls to examine them, and pronounce on their fitness for the sacred office of ministers of Jesus Christ. The solemn consideration that on every Lord's day, ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 157 there may be some in the congregation who are listening to their last sermon, to whom the Word of God will no more be addressed, to whom a final offer is made of the salvation that is by Jesus Christ, should operate with undiminished force in rousing the preacher's zeal, ear nestness, fidelity, and affection, every time he discharges the office of a public instructor. A sense of the import ance of his message, of the infinite value of the souls of men, and of the fearful weight of responsibility which attaches to his office, should discover itself in his lan guage, his countenance, his gesture. He that preaches under such impressions, will be unwilling to terminate his address, till he sees some fruit of his labour, till his heart is encouraged by beholding in one and another of his hearers the silent tear of penitence, the earnest anx iety of enquiry, and the animated countenance of the humble christian, lighted up with the smile of heavenly hope. " Take heed," said our Lord, " how ye hear." And it would be well for hearers to remember whenever they go up to the House of God, that they may perhaps hear something which will completely change their character, and form it in the mould of the Gospel, — that some por- N tion of the Word of God may come to their hearts and conscience, " with demonstration of the Spirit and with power," which will make them wise unto salvation, — which will give a new and heavenly direction to their pursuits, — which will fashion and sanctify all their fu ture conduct, — which will give a fresh and a holy impulse to their spirits, — which will influence the whole of their lives upon earth, and extend the consequences of that influence even into another world, and thus decide their lot for eternity. Even the edifice which is set apart for the celebration of Divine worship, derives an odour of sanctity from 158 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. the holy purpose to which it is devoted. .Wherever the presence of God is more immediately displayed, the very ground is holy : " Put thy shoes from off thy feet* for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground," was the first charge given to those in old time, to whom God vouchsafed to appear. Uncovering the head is esteemed by us an act of reverence ; but many persons enter the House of God with less outward respect, than they would discover on entering the house of a fellow- creature. In order to avoid superstitious regard for a building, it is not necessary to fall into irreverence to wards Him for whose worship it has been erected. It may be esteemed a mark of good-breeding to enter an assembly with a light and airy carriage, and with be coming assurance ; but when that assembly is met to gether for the worship of the great God, such a deport ment is profanity. The deepest humility of heart, a modest countenance, and a reverential deportment, are necessary when we enter the House of God. Even the heathen are a pattern to many christians in this re spect, for they enter the temples of their idols with rev erence and awe. It is also to be regretted that the good old custom of assuming a devotional attitude, for the purpose of a few moments silent prayer, on entering a place of worship, has grown very much into disuse :, and the same may be observed of the silent pause for mental prayer* at the conclusion of a religious service ; and yet both these customs have a tendency to excite or to cherish right feelings in the heart. " Keep thy foot," says the wise man, " when thou goest to the house of God." There is yet another service which forms the most simple, and at the same time, the most solemn part of the ritual of a christian church-^-the Lord's* Supper. Whether we consider the awful and affecting circum- ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 159 stances connected with its institution, the final meet ing of all the Apostles with their Lord, the catas trophe to which it was the prelude, and the amazing love and wonderful condescension of Him who left this charge with his followers, " Do this in remembrance of me ; " or whether we regard the nature of the ordinance itself, tending to remind us of the means and author of our redemption, of the love of Him who when he knew the price of purchase was his own blood, drew not back from the dreadful engagement ; or contemplate the or dinance as wisely adapted to encourage our faith, and, as a social service, to unite us in the bonds of brotherly love ; — -in every point of view this is an institution ad mirably calculated to awaken the most tender sensibili ties of our nature, and to excite the best and most sacred feelings of our hearts. This ordinance, on account of the mystical language applied to the sacred elements by our Lord, and the penal consequences attached to the abuse of it as stated by St.. Paul, as well as the strange and irrational doc trine of transubstantiation, so generally received in the time of the papal dominion, has been much neglected through superstitious and groundless fears, or observed with ignorant and profane reliance on its virtues as able to atone for sin, and to secure an " abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom" of heaven. This rite should neither be abused by being put in the place of Christ, or being made a part of his full and perfect ob lation and satisfaction for sin ; nor slighted by neglect, as if it conferred no benefit, and were not obligatory, because salvation is attainable without it. The true christian does not desire to reach heaven, with as im perfect an obedience as is at all compatible with safety ; but his aim is to do all the will of God, and to observe every ordinance of Christ. To defend the habitual 160 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. neglect of this institution, on the ground of its not being indispensable to salvation, is no other than to charge our Lord with having appointed a useless service, with having laid a needless injunction on his followers. What he has commanded, must be important, and, where circumstances allow, indispensable ; what he has conferred, must be beneficial ; and a slight, cast on his appointments, must incur guilt. It seems that as some have erred in their opinions of the nature of the Lord's supper, others have erred also in the administration of this religious rite. It is re garded by some as so distinct from the other parts of religious worship, as to belong exclusively to those who give undoubted evidence of their real conversion to God ; and not as a means, under God, of producing renovation of heart. By others it is esteemed as some thing of so awful and mysterious import, that men are to be kept from it lest they destroy their souls by eating and drinking unworthily. No one ought certainly to approach the celebration of this rite, without close and impartial self-examination, and preparation, yet it should not (as it too oftpn is) be abstained from alto gether, under a mistaken notion of the superior sanctity required in those who partake of it. Prayer is a solemn service, and should not be engaged in without great se riousness and solemnity of mind, and a " true heart ;" but many who dare not live without dafly prayer to God, do yet habitually neglect the holy Sacrament, which is only another branch of religious obligation. In some communions, the Lord's Supper is restricted to such as have attained to a certain degree of religious knowledge and experience ; and the rest of the congre gation are admitted to join indiscriminately in the other parts of the service of the sanctuary, without drawing any line which should separate them into classes, ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 161 leaving it to God alone to distinguish between those who worship him in spirit and in truth, and those who are mere formalists in their devotions; and suffering men to engage in the service so as to derive profit, or to bring sin on their souls by irreverence or want of sincerity. It seems reasonable and scriptural that the openly pro fane, and those who are unacquainted with the very first principles of Christianity should be excluded from the sacramental table, till they give evidence of being re formed in their conduct, and enlightened in their minds. But why should the door be shut against such as are mor al in their deportment, and are ready to profess their be lief that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh ? Why should not all who have an enlightened desire to participate in this ordinance, be permitted to share in it ? Many might find it the means of their spiritual renovation ; but while the holy communion is under too rigid restric tions, it is in fact put out of the number of the means of conversion, and made only the medium of conveying encouragement and strength to those, who have already " believed through grace." Some conference should take place between the minis ter or persons appointed by the church, and candidates for communion, previously to their becoming commu nicants ; and it is a part of the ministerial office, to ex plain the nature, and enforce the obligations of this Divine Institution, and to warn men against eating and drinking unworthily ; but why, as is the case in some religious societies, should a written document, to be read publicly before the church, be required from all candidates, containing, or professing to contain an ac count of the commencement and progress of their con version to God ? Many truly pious and sincere persons, whom Christ has accepted, are kept from his table by this " ordinance of man." Some are unable to note 162 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. the commencement of spiritual light in their soul, or to trace the progress of their attainments in Divine Know ledge ; but they can reply in truth and from the heart to the question, " Dost thou believe in the Lord Jesus Christ," 'I believe; may God help my unbelief;' and their conduct and conversation show that they have added to their faith — knowledge, virtue, temper ance, and the other christian graces. Others, again, feel a backwardness, arising from true humility, to proclaim openly the state of their minds towards God. They are ready to give an answer to every man who asketh of the hope that is in them ; but they cannot overcome their diffidence, and do violence to their feel ings, by delivering in a written document as an attest ation of their faith and sincerity. Christian humility shrinks back from such publicity, and is of too retired a nature to say, ' Here am I, receive me.' It is to be feared also that this regulation may induce some persons to state more than they have really experi enced ; an anxiety to be esteemed something more than mere " babes" in Christianity, may lead to their preparing a paper, which shall contain, not a faithful statement of their religious course, but an account calculated to raise them in the opinion of the religious society to which they belong. And the injury will not be confined to those only who are thus admitted to church-member ship, but many persons who listen to the contents of these papers, may be led to form very erroneous notions respecting conversion. They may suppose that a process similar to what they have heard stated, as the course and and order of the religious experience of others, must take place in their own minds before they can conclude themselves to be christians, or lay an humble claim to the promises and offers of the Gospel. Thus much unnecessary distress may be caused in their minds, or ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. 163 they may be induced to make hypocritical pretensions, or to sink in despondency. Besides, what test of sincerity, or of piety, can such documents be ? They may easily be counterfeited by the hypocrite ; they may lead the christian of low at tainments to state more than he has really experienced, and they may effectually exclude from communion many useful and devout persons ; but they can neither promote nor ensure the admittance of such only as are " born of God," who are christians in deed and in truth, as well as in outward profession. To return from this digression to the subject of the spiritual worship of God, we may observe in conclusion, that no means of grace will be neglected either by those who are making the first enquiries after God in a reli gious course of life, or by those who are standing fast in their most holy faith. The former need every in struction and assistance; and the latter stand in need of constant supplies of spiritual strength to keep their graces lively. The dispensation of the Gospel brings relief exactly suited to the case of the one; and the other finds in the same dispensation, all needful supplies of grace, plentifully and freely bestowed. By readmg the Holy Scriptures, by diligent self-examination, by fre quent meditation on Divine Things, by the converse of pious persons, and chiefly by attending on the public worship of God, the christian finds his faith daily strengthened — his hope increased — his prospects widen ed — his joys multiplied — his humility increased — his attachment to present things weakened — his love to ho liness growing stronger — his holy resolutions fortified — his zeal animated and wisely directed — his confidence in God confirmed, and thus, his path is as " the shining lifht, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." 164 ON PUBLIC WORSHIP. Let every reader put the following questions seriously to his conscience, at the close of every Lord's day : With what motive did I go up to the House of God this day ? If the present should be my last Sabbath, and I should be favoured with no more opportunities of worshipping God in his earthly temples, have I so im proved this day's services, as to leave no sting in my conscience — no cause of bitter regret ? It is certain that I am now one Sabbath-day's journey nearer to the end of my pilgrimage, and to my appearing before the Judgment-seat of Christ, do I then find in myself an increased preparation and meetness for the heavenly glory ? ESSAY IV. «»-«-«? ON PRAYER. J/V HAT is prayer ? It is the eloquence of misery ; it is the language inspired by a sense of wretchedness and want ; it is the cry of a being who feels his help lessness and danger, to one whom he knows to be able, and believes to be willing to save him ; it is the desire of the heart. How does the beggar perishing with hun ger, implore an alms of those that pass by him ? — How does the mariner sinking beneath the fierce wave in sight of his native shore, cry aloud for help ? — How does the condemned criminal supplicate his judge or his prince for pardon ? This is prayer. Prayer is desire : it is earnestness. Without desire, prayer is but a shadow without the substanci^ a lifeless body without the quickening spirit; an inanimate trunk destitute of the heart. What would it profit us, were we to repeat ever so many forms of petitions in words only ? We may in this manner say prayer after prayer, till our lips are weary, and our tongue cleaves to our mouth, and our breath fails us, and not one request will reach heaven, because all are unaccompanied by the desire of the heart. If God be the searcher of hearts, what greater mockery can there be than to address him with unmeaning words ? Will He, who is a Spirit, be satisfied with mere bodily service? God hears prayer; but without desire prayer is des- 166# ON PRAYER. tituteof its first and most distinguishing quality. " God," says an old divine, "heareth the heart without the mouth ; but never heareth the mouth acceptably without the heart." " The Lord is nigh unto all that call upon him in truth," — " He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him." If desire be the heart of prayer, earnestness is also the eloquent tongue that pleads our cause with God. The cold words of heartless petitions which fall unheeded from the lips of the formal worshipper, are also disre garded by Him to whom they are pretended to be ad dressed. If we rightly understand the value of spi ritual things, we shall seek them with corresponding earnestness. " Unto thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul," says the Psalmist ; and when blessings for the soul are desired, there will ever be a spiritual wrestling for them. What evidence can there be of sincerity of desire, when there is no earnestness of supplication ? How earnest was Jacob to obtain a blessing from the Almighty ! He is represented as wrestling with God, and with ear nest importunity declaring, "I will not let thee go, ex cept thou bless me." We are commanded to continue " instant," or persevering " in prayer." We have blessings of infinite value to ask of God, and shall we seek them only with a cold obedience to the Divine command to continue in prayer ? Shall we not rather manifest an earnest! and persevering importunity, as those who feel the importance of the favours which they supplicate, and who know they must perish unless they are conceded! "The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." What strong language is this ? Whom does it characterize ? Not the formal — not the heedless — not the slothful — not the cold, heartless worshipper ; — no;, "the violent" are those whose hearts are set upon obtaining the inva- ON PRAYER. 167 iuable blessings of the Gospel, — who give no sleep to their eyes, nor slumber to their eyelids, till they have laid " hold upon the hope that is set before them," — who regard this world as a passage to another, and consider time as given them to prepare for eternity, — and who think no end of their being answered, till they have obtained a " good hope through grace," that they shall hereafter receive an " inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." There must be application of mind in prayer. If our own minds are unaffected by our prayers, how can we expect that they should have power with God? David affords us an instance of this application of mind — - this earnestness, when he declares that his soul thirsted for God. He felt an intenseness of desire which led him to seek God early — to prevent the morning light — to follow hard after God — to wait with longing desire till the Lord should accomplish all his petitions. Some persons excuse themselves from, the duty of prayer by averring that they know not how to discharge it, that they cannot find words wherewith to offer peti tions to God. There are doubtless -various degrees of attainment in the gift of prayer ; but this total inability which is pleaded, is a proof that the understanding is yet destitute of spiritual light, that the affections are yet unsanctified, that the heart is yet unrenewed. Where the evil of sin is felt, men know how to cry for the pardon of it. Where the danger which threatens us as the guilty posterity of fallen Adam, is seen and appre ciated, words will readily be found to call on God for deliverance. If we know "the plague of our own hearts," we shall be earnest, if not eloquent, in beseech ing God to " create in us a clean heart, and to renew a right spirit within us." If we possess a spiritual knowledge of the blessings of redemption, we shall be ±68 ON PRAYER. importunate in pleading with God for an interest in them. Words are vain if unaccompanied by desire; but where a desire is felt, words will naturally follow. If the mind be instructed in the knowledge of Divine things, and the heart conceive desires for them, " the tongue of the stammerers shall be ready to speak plainly." However, a readiness of utterance and a How of words must not be mistaken for prayer. There is a distinction between the gift and the grace or spirit of prayer ; and the former may be possessed, if not without, at least with a very small degree of the latter. He that has only the gift of prayer, may define his wants with much exact ness, and offer petitions with a wonderful facility and great variety and copiousness of expression ; but at the same time, all this may be only like the regular move ments of an automaton, that have the resemblance of life, but not the reality; they are excited by a mechan ical cause, and cease when that impulse ceases ; they stop when the spring has lost its elasticity, or the weight has gone down. There may be gifts which dazzle both the possessor and the beholders, where there is none or very little of the grace which humbles^— of the spirit which enlightens the heart. Prayer begins in the conviction that we are sinners — sinners who must perish everlastingly without the mer cy of God; it is founded on a persuasion that God will hear prayer, and will send answers of peace ; and prayer proceeds and grows, and strengthens, on the experience of God's grace and mercy. No one truly pray s till God has opened the eyes of his mind to discern his spiritual dan ger. " Behold he prayeth," is amongst the first evi dences given of the real conversion of Saul the perse cutor, into Paul the apostle. Prayer is the natural ex pression of the heart of every one that is born of the ON PRAYERj 169 spirit. Prayer is as the breath of the christian, without which he cannot live ; it is to him as the animating soul Which God breathed into the nostrils of the first man, and which gave life, and vigour, and health, to the whole frame. A prayerless christian is a contradiction in terms ; for believers are the generation of them that seek God. Therefore prayer is the best test of character, the surest mark of spiritual life. It seeks spiritual things, and cannot thrive in the natural, unrenewed heart. As we feel disposed to, or averse from this duty, so will be the growth or the decline of grace in our hearts. "A praying christian," says one of the early fathers of the Church, "is in a frame for enduring any thing." He that continues " instant in prayer," is at the post as signed to him as a christian warrior; he is on his watch^ tower, and will not be easily surprised by his insidious enemy — his besetting sin, or by his more open foes — the world and the devil. Christians are commanded to put on the spiritual ar mour of God ; but shieldj and breast-plate, and helmet* are Vain coverings, and the sword is a useless weapon, unless we are found " praying always with all prayer." Prayer buckles on the harness, and instructs us to wield the sword ; but " restraining prayer, we cease to fight ;" our shield is laid down, our breast-plate and helmet are taken off, and the sword falls from our feeble grasp. » Prayer is an exercise of the mind so spiritual, that in nothing are we more likely to become remiss and formal, than in this service. And, therefore, in the word of God are many exhortations to urge us to this duty, and many promises to encourage our perseverance in it. It is enforced by repeated commands; "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." — " Men ought always to pray, and not to faint."— " Pray without ceasing." 170 ON PRAYER. "In everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God." We have also " ex ceedingly great and precious promises," to strengthen our faith, and animate our drooping expectations. "Thou that hearest prayer," is addressed to God in his Word, as one of the names by which he is known. " The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are opeh unto their cry." " Whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he will give it you." — " The Lord is rich unto all that call upon him." — " Before they call, I will answer ; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." — " He will be very gracious unto thee at the voice of thy cry ; when he shall hear it, he will answer thee." But then our prayers must be offered in faith, and with understanding. The first act of the mind in prayer, must be faith in the being of God ; and then faith in his ability and readiness to help us ; " for he that cometh to God, must believe that he is, and that he is a re- warder of them that diligently seek him." Prayer without faith is a vain oblation, unprofitable to our selves, and unacceptable to God. When we approach the throne of grace with a doubting mind, we are but little better than they who worship an " unknown God" — without confidence in his power, or hope in his mercy ; " Let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord." The medium of access to the Father should never be forgotten by us, when we attempt to pray. Had not Christ died, there would have been no way in which we could ever have approached God ; we should have been forever barred his presence. By the mediation of Christ we hold spiritual communion with our Maker : through him the prayer of faith becomes "that con verse, which God has allowed Us to maintain with him- ON PRAYER. 171 self above, while we are here below. It is that language wherein a creature holds correspondence with his Creator, and wherein the soul of a saint gets near to God, is en tertained with great delight, and as it were dwells with his heavenly Father for a short season before he comes to heaven." Faith is indispensable to prayer: it is the " tongue that begs pardon ; it is the hand that receives it ; it is the eye that sees it; but it is no price to buy it. Faith uses the Gospel plea for pardon, but it is not the plea itself, that is only Christ's blood." As this intercourse between God and the sOul cannot be maintained without faith, so also it cannot be enjoyed without understanding. In vain will our prayers ex press fully the things which we need, if we do not also in some measure understand the value of the blessings which we supplicate. Can our prayers bring down one blessing from heaven, if we know not what we ask for ? Unless we "pray with the spirit, and pray with the understanding also," we shall but " speak into the air." The words of our prayer may not indeed be " without signification," but the understanding will be "unfruitful," the heart will not be " edified." • True prayer is the expression of the heart, and is therefore a voluntary service. The sincere christian does not pray merely because he is commanded to pray, but also because he is inclined to pray. He is not urged so much by the voice of natural conscience, as by love to God and love to the duty. He delights to hold com munion with the Father of his spirit. He enjoys a foretaste of heaven in the exercise of this duty. But, on the other hand, prayer is wrung and extorted from the unrenewed heart. Many who have never bowed the knee in sincere and humble adoration, and have never raised one cry of earnest prayer to heaven, while they were in health, and saw no trouble, are the loudest in 172 ON PRAYER, calling on God in their misery. They go to Him when they have no other refuge. Their desire is to be deli vered from their pains, not from their sins. They desire that God should take away their sufferings, not their evil hearts, — that he should renew their bodily strength, not their souls, — that he should restore them to health and prosperity, not to his favour and image, the light of his countenance, and the joys of his salvation. Thus they cover the deceitfulness of their hearts with a co vering, but not of the Spirit of God ; a covering too thin not to be pierced by the all-seeing eye of the Lord ; a covering too scanty to shield them from the anger of God. God saith of such characters, " They have not cried unto me with their heart, when they howled upon their beds." Their return to God is induced by terror, and secured only by fear. They yield not themselves unreservedly to God, but only so much as they are constrained to do by mere suffering. They are like the Israelites of old time ; when God visited them for their sins, and slew them, "then they sought him ; and they returned and enquired early after God ; and they re-> membered that God was their rock, and the High God their Redeemer : nevertheless they did flatter him with their mouth, and they lied unto him with their tongues; for their heart was not right with him, neither were they steadfast in his covenant." Fear does not, however, always bend the stubborn heart ; sometimes it hardens it. It often induces a hy pocritical return to God, but it sometimes strengthens the daring spirit of rebellion. We find in the Reve lation, that when the judgments of God were heavy on " the seat of the beast," men " blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores ; and re pented not of their deeds." They that rightly understand the nature of prayer, ON PRAYER. 173 and regard it as a spiritual service, know that they cannot perform this duty acceptably to God, nor with advantage to themselves, unless they receive the aid of the Holy Spirit. " We know not what we should pray for as we ought," but the " Spirit helpeth our infirmities." We read of a " spirit of grace and of supplication," which God promises to " pour out" on his people ; and it is the same Divine teacher, who confirms our faith and enables us to cry " Abba, Father." " Prayer," says one, " is nothing but the breathing that out before the Lord, which was first breathed into us by the Spirit of the Lord." We may assume the posture of worship at the set times of prayer, (and so we ought to do, for that which has not its regular and appointed seasons, will seldom be performed at all,) but unless the Divine Spirit excite holy desires in our hearts, the discharge of this duty will be unprofitable ; for in this, as in every other religious service, " it is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing." Having thus far discussed the nature of prayer, we shall offer some remarks on the exercise of this duty, in the public, social, and private acts of worship. With respect to public prayer, what sight is more pleasing, more solemn, or more imposing, than to behold a mul titude of immortal beings, bowing before the same throne of mercy, confessing their sins to the same Fa ther, and seeking an interest in the same salvation ! The advantages attending the observance of public prayer are many. It is calculated to excite every proper and hallowed feeling in the bosom. God is pleased to hearken to the united prayers of the church, and to send gracious answers of peace. " The Lord loveth the gates of Zion," and hath commanded an especial blessing on the assemblies of his saints. " The Lord will create upon every dwelling-place of Mount Zion, and upon 174 ON PRAYER. her assemblies a cloud, a smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night, for upon all the glory shall be a defence." "Pray," then, "with the most; for where most pray is heaven." But let it be remembered, that in public prayer, it is not every one who is present, and joins with his voice, that takes a part in the spiritual worship. All may join in the " bodily exercise," but the church, the assembly of believers alone pray ; they alone offer the " prayers of saints," which ascend to God as incense from "golden vials full of odours." It is not enough to appear in our accustomed places at the time of public prayer, and to join formally in the words of the petitions that are offered, or the praises that are presented ; our hearts and our spirits must be engaged in the service. It is to be feared that many add their amen to prayers, of the meaning of which they know nothing, and to the very words of which they have often paid no attention. The sound of their voice is heard in the assembly, united with the voice of the spiritual and sincere worshipper, but it reaches not heaven, be cause it is mere lip-service — because the words are word;: of vanity. It is to be feared that many say, " Our Fa ther," who are ignorant of the first rudiments of Christi anity ; who, instead of being " ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh them a reason of the hope that is in them," have really no hope at all ; and, instead of being of the true " circumcision who wor ship God in the spirit," " have need that one teach them the first principles of the oracles of God." They use the language of those who have received the " spirit of adoption," but they remain " strangers from the cov enants of promise." The petitions offered up in public prayers, may express with eloquent fervour, in language well-suited to the solemnity, the earnestness, the since- ON PRAYER. 175 rity of the minds of spiritual worshippers, all the ne cessities of the body and the soul, which are common to the children of men, but it is to be feared that they are " vain repetitions " in the mouths of many persons, who are present in body, but absent in spirit, — who add to the numerical amount of the number of our religious assemblies, but have no' communion in the service. To such persons the Reformation has brought no benefit ; they partake indeed of the outward privileges enjoyed in those countries, where the yoke of papal tyranny has been broken, but as to any spiritual profit, they are nearly on an equality with our forefathers, who listened to prayers offered in an unknown tongue. It may be profitable for such persons, to give consid erate answers to the questions which follow. Do you never utter words in public prayer, or listen, without any effort of the understanding, or any application of mind, to words, of the import of which you have no just conception ? Have you ever considered the solem nity of the addresses to the Deity, in which you profess to join every Lord's day, and have your minds been duly impressed when repeating them ? Have you ever reflected on the deep self-abasement and godly sorrow which are expressed in the confessions, and have you felt a corresponding humility, and holy shame, and true repentance; for mere "confession is not repentance? " You are in the habit of confessing yourselves " misera ble offenders ; " do you feel the extent of your misery ? Are you convinced that there is indeed no moral sound ness — no spiritual " health " in your souls by nature, and do you therefore desire that God would heal you, and renew a right spirit within you, and restore his lost image in your souls ; for the mere " knowledge of sin is not contrition ? " When you hear of the mercy and pity of God, do you hope in that mercy, and claim that pity, 176 ON PRAYER, as those "that truly repent, and unfeignedly believe his holy Gospel ? " When you say, " O God ! make clean our hearts within us," are you constrained to offer this petition, because you know the "plague of your own hearts ? " Do you really believe that you have evil hearts — 'hearts desperately wicked — hearts that only the power of God can change and sanctify; and do you de sire that this spiritual renovation, this new creation should take place in them ? When you solemnly invoke the " Father of Heaven," and the " Redeemer of the World," and the " Holy Ghost/' to have mercy upon you, are all the powers of your soul engaged in the awful service ? When you reiterate the cry " Lord have mercy upon us," — " Christ, have mercy upon us," do the growing desires after mercy, strengthen in your hearts, and does the flame of devotion wax brighter and brighter, as your voice becomes louder and louder, and your petitions more frequent ? When you pray for deli verance, and take those awful pleas into your mouth, be seeching God by the "agony and bloody sweat — by the cross and passion — by the precious death and burial — by the glorious resurrection and ascension" of the Lord of glory, and " by the coming of the Holy Ghost, " — do your souls long after the blessings so supplicated ? Are your desires so intense, and is the conviction of your necessities so deep, that your soul labours to find words sufficiently expressive of its feelings ? Or do you re peat these words, because you have been accustomed to do so from your youth up ; and so the frequency of the custom, instead of increasing the warmth of your devo tion, has hardened you against all the deep and serious impressions which they are calculated to make on the spirit? If such be the case, think, O think of the dread mockery of taking these words upon your lips , while your hearts are unaffected by them ! ON PRAYER. 177 Be not deluded by supposing that your regular, unva rying attendance on the public prayers, will secure to you the blessings implored, while you join not in them with a true and lively faith. You may come and go during threescore years and ten,and never miss one public service, and never omit one word of every prayer, and at last fall short of that heaven, which you vainly hoped to secure by unmeaning, hypocritical services. What profit is your ceaseless repetition of forms of prayer to God ? " Should I accept this at your hands, saith the Lord ?" One ejaculation from the broken and contrite heart— r one inarticulate petition from the stammering tongue of the unlettered, but pious and humble worshipper, is more acceptable to God, than your unnumbered, but heartless services : — Nay, while he fulfilleth the desire of the humble, and heareth their cry, and saveth them, He rejects your vain, and formal duties ; they are an abomination in his sight. " He hath filled the hungry with good things; but the rich he hath sent empty away." Some persons seem to have fallen into the mistaken notion that religion, so far as relates to the duties of prayer and praise which it enjoins, is confined to the services of the sanctuary ; they never think of daily renewing in their houses, the worship in which they are engaged on every Lord's day. But there are the same arguments for the practice of social or family worship, that establish the practice of public worship ; the same authority sanctions and commands both. Is it not rea sonable that a creature so dependant as man, should acknowledge that dependance? — that a being so guilty should implore pardon ? — that one so ignorant should seek direction ? — that .he who is so destitute should sup plicate the blessings and favours of which he stands in need? What is more rational as well as scriptural, 2a 178 ON PRAYER. than that every morning should be opened and conse crated with prayer to God, and every evening closed with devout acknowledgment of the mercies of the day; and with supplication for continued protection during the night? "Evening and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud," said David; and evening and morning ought all the members of every family (where it is practicable,) to assemble and bow the knee to the Father of mercies. The members of one family have common wants, and are exposed to common dangers; and if one receive a blessing, they all rejoice together ; should they not then unitedly perform their daily devo tional exercises ? Such a practice is according to the will of God ; and it brings many blessings in its train- It has a tendency to soften the asperities of temper, and the bickerings which are too often discovered in families. Those who daily bow the knee to the common Father of all, are likely to live together as brethren in unity and love. Those who expect to " form a fa mily anew, unbroken in the skies," will be careful to worship God in union on earth. The recalling of the presence of God to the mind every morning and evening, is likely to produce a serious and profitable impression during the day, of his Omniscience and Omnipresence, and of our accountability; and the recollection that the God of peace must be worshipped in the evening, would tend to banish from the heart all " bitter envy ing and strife," during the day. And thus habitual devotion would qualify for the faithful discharge of ev ery duty ; and the conscientious performance of all mor al and civil obligations, would prepare the mind for the exercises of devotion. Under the term social prayer, maybe comprehended the common practice of professing to ask the Divine blessing on our daily food. Some persons prefer the ON PRAYER. 179 custom of silent prayer on these occasions, as being more favourable to a devotional feeling-, and more calcu- lated to excite a reverential disposition of mind, than a few words pronounced only by the head of the fa mily. But, in some families, the practice is entirely laid aside ; they eat bread and call not upon God. We are pensioners upon the daily bounty of heaven ; we are taught to pray, " Give us this day our daily bread ;" and when our table is spread with the bounties of Pro vidence, they should remind us of the Giver, and lead us to acknowledge with thankfulness and humility, the mercies which are so free on his part, and so unmerited on ours. Perhaps the mere form is better than the total neglect of this custom ; but at some tables, the greatest levity so closely presses both on the commencement and on the close of the few words which are hastily uttered, that there is scarcely an interval left for the exercise of the smallest degree of attention. It is much to be wished that the good old practice of craving God's blessing on our food, were renewed with antient solemnity. There is no necessity for any great length in the form made use of; but it is indispensable to the right and acceptable man ner of discharging it, that it be performed with serious ness and attention. There must be religion in the house, as well as in the church. Vain will be a numerous and regular attend ance on the public services of the sabbath, while there are no praying families at home. The very heathen have always had their Penates, or household Gods, to which they pay daily worship ; and shall they exceed us ! Shall they be more diligent in the service of idols, than we are in the worship of the true God ! Mothers are seen in pagan countries, teaching infants to clasp their little hands before senseless idols, and thus causing thera to acknowledge them as deities, befoie they can 180 ON PRAYER. speak. Shall not these deluded but zealous idolaters rise up in judgment, and condemn many christian pa rents, who have never once taught their children to call upon God— who have never led them to the domestic altar — never taught them to seek the favour of the God of heaven! Alas! on how many dwellings might be inscribed, ' God is not worshipped in this house/ — l A house in which prayer is not offered to God ! ' Are any excusing themselves on the ground that they have no time ? What is time given us for, but to serve God — but to seek spiritualand everlasting blessings ! "They that cannot find time to pray," says a judicious and pious modern writer, " must find time to be sick — they mustoneday find time to die." Do you plead the claims of business? What business is so important as the sal vation of the soul ? Shall not the petty and transient concerns of time, yield to the momentous, the unspeak ably important interests of eternity ! Is that time lost — is it mis-spent, which is consecrated to God, the au thor of our being — the preserver of our lives — the be- stower of all our mercies ! Is that business neglected, which is suspended for a few minutes every day, to give place to the more serious and weighty engagements to be transacted between God and our Maker. Let heads of families remember the awful account, which they must one day give of the weighty charge intrusted to them. Every head of a family should be the priest of that family, to lead the social devotions of its united members. Heavy is the judgment imprecated on those who neglect this duty : " Pour out thy fury," says the Prophet, " Pour out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not ; and upon the families that call not upon thy name." Prayer is the distinguishing character of every on# that is regenerate. It is the appointed medium of com- ON PRAYER. 181 munication between heaven and earth ; and every chris tian has so many secret sins to deplore, so many bles sings peculiar to his own case to supplicate, that he will gladly avail himself of stated seasons for retiring to his chamber, to pour out his heart before Him who seeth in secret. Among primitive believers when the question was asked, ' Hast thou observed the Lord's day ? ' The answer was, * I am a christian ; I cannot neglect it.' A similar reply would be given by every true christian, were the question put, 'Hast thou prayed to-day?' He knows too well the value of an access to the throne of grace, to suffer a day to pass without coming thereto that he " may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." His language is, " as for me it is good for me to draw near to God." The privilege of prayer is duly appreciated by those, who " have tasted that the Lord is gracious." — "At the throne of grace, they that have nothing, may get all things ; they that deserve wrath, may obtain mercy ; they that are condemned at the court of justice, may be acquitted and freed from all sentences, and may be adjudged to eternal life by the grace of God in Christ Jesus." We who are at an infinite distance from God as crea tures, and at enmity with God as sinners, may yet ap proach Him by the "new and living way, which he hath consecrated for us." It is a new way, for it has been more clearly revealed in these latter days, as the only medium of access to God, without the intervention of sacrifices or other ceremonial rites. It is a living way, because it is the way to life, and is ever open. " Straight paths" are made ready for our feet, but we unreasonably put obstacles and hinderances in the way of prayer, and often make our petitions as though we suspected the willingness of God to bestow what he has promised. With a dull and insensible state of mind, we ask for 182 ON PRAYER. spiritual blessings, more from the conviction that it is right and proper we should supplicate these things, than with the earnestness and fervour of those who desire them, and are impressed with their infinite value and importance. With difficulty we find words to consume the time set apart for private prayer ; and our petitions are rather the invention of the head, than the earnest cry of the heart. Words, indeed, are not necessary to prayer ; but " out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh ;" and if desires are excited in the heart — if our heart be "enduing a good matter," our tongue will be "as the pen of a ready writer." But many restrain prayer before God ; they never bow the knee ; they know of nothing for which to pray ; if one should know their minds, they have not one spi ritual desire excited in them ; they feel no need — no want, for which to request a supply ; they feel no bur den of sin, from which to seek deliverance; spiritual things have no attraction in their eyes^that they should seek them, and seek them first, with earnestness and dili gence. Upon them the command of Christ with respect to the observance of private prayer, is without effect ; they never enter into their closet and shut their door, and pray to Him, that seeth in secret; they never enter into their chambers and shut their door about them, that they may commune with their own hearts and make diligent search. Are mortal men — are sinners then become so " rich and increased with goods," that they have "need of nothing?" Christ himself, the Lord of heaven and earth, prayed when he appeared in our nature. He spent whole nights in prayer and devout meditation. And "the disciple is not above his Master ; nor the ser vant above his Lord." As he was, so should we be in the world. By refraining from prayer, we profess to ON PRAYER. 183 be independent of God ; to want no blessing from Him, to be able to pass through this mortal life without his help or favour. O vain man, thy services are unprofi table to thy Maker ; but without His grace, thou must perish. And if thou art living in the habitual neglect of prayer, thou art without God, and therefore without hope. In the midst of health and prosperity, thou dost forget to call upon God, and in trouble thou wilt be afraid to pray to Him whom thou hast contemned. God is near thee at all times, but thou knowest it not ; pain and sorrow and distress will cause thee to feel his pre sence, by the weight of his arm which will smite thee in anger. In prayer, as in every other religious service, consistency of conduct and consolation of mind go ever hand in hand. " To do justly ; to love mercy ; and to walk humbly with our God," are indispensable to our being "strengthened in the Lord, and walking up and down in his name." We sometimes go to the throne of grace with fear, and doubt of our acceptance with God ; this may proceed in part from the weakness of our faith, but it is too often caused by the unworthiness of our conversation. " If our hearts condemn us," we lose our " confidence to wards God" — not only the hope of acceptance with respect to our prayers, but also the confidence of trust in His providential care, and of faith in his grace. Our feet then move heavily in the ways of God ; we are des titute of true peace in things relating to this life, and have a very low state of hope in reference to that which is to come. If we " exercise ourselves daily to have a con science void of offence towards God and towards men," We shall very rarely lose that degree of faith which will enable us to look up to God as our helper, and to call upon Him as our Father. The instability of the"dou7 ble-minded man," blasts his fruitfulness and brings a constant cloud over his comforts. 184 ON PRAYER. The vigour of our spiritual life, will ever be accord ing to the manner which the duty of secret prayer is performed. They who hold no communion with God in retirement, know nothing of their own hearts ; they are ignorant of their true character as sinners. and they know not Christ the Saviour of sinners. More may be learned on our knees in one half hour of retire ment from the world, than can be acquired in much study and controversy. Prayer is a refuge to which we may flee in every time of trouble ; it yields comfort to the distressed mind, and peace to the troubled consci ence; it revives hope in the desponding heart, animates the drooping spirits, "gives power to the faint, and to them that have no might it increaseth strength." Great is the power of prayejr ; it has turned the firmament into brass ; again it has opened the fountains of heaven, and brought down the rain ; it has " subdued kingdoms ; wrought righteousness; obtained promises; stopped the mouths of lions ; quenched the violence of fire ; " and raised the dead to life again. It is great condescension in the Most High to allow us to speak to him in prayfer, to permit us to bless Him who is the source of all blessing — to ascribe honour to Him who is the fountain of all honour. But can we give unto God the honour that is due unto his name, unless we ap proach Him at all times with the profoundest reverence? If man be admitted to an audience with God, shall this encourage bim to use irreverent familiarity in addressing his Maker ? Are we never guilty of making use in prayer of grossly familiar, or careless and irreverent language ? Studied words and phrases and nicely ar ranged forms of expression, are indeed unnecessary in prayer ; but due solemnity and seriousness of mind will preclude all unguarded language, and will cause us to take heed that we offend not with our tongue, and so ON PRAYER. 185 oUr very prayers become sin. Logical method and grammatical accuracy are not necessary to make out prayers acceptable to God, but we should guard against being rash with our mouth," or, " hasty to utter any thing before God," lest, instead of offering a service well-pleasing to Him, we incur his anger, and instead of a sacrifice, offer to God an abomination. We are very prone to fall into the error of taking the act of prayer for the end; as if the mere observance of the duty were sufficient; whereas a watching unto prayer, a watching in prayer, and a watching after prayer, belong to the spirit of this duty. If we are so engrossed by the cares and pleasures of the world, as to suffer them to encroach on the hours that should be sacred to the closet, we do not watch unto prayer. If we brood over the injuries we have re ceived, and indulge bitterness and malice in our hearts, we do not watch unto prayer. The Divine command in this matter is, " Watch and pray," and " first be re conciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." When we relax in the christian course, or offer a feeble resistance to the world, the flesh, and the devil, — when we grow lukewarm in our affections, or decline in circumspection, or indulge in any degree in an increased conformity to the world, or are led away by the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life," we have ceased to watch unto prayer. Do we never attend to the duty of prayer, with a se- Cretintention of having something like a stock of religion in hand, that may forestall our pardon, and give us license to indulge in unchristian levity ? This is not watching in prayer. Are we never chargeable with the self-righteous notion, of praying in order to atone for our sins? We commit sin, feel a degree of sorrow, make confession, pray, and then forget the offence. 2b 186 ON PRAYER. But does God so forget ? Has he no book of remem brance ? And although he will keep his mercy for evermore, and his "covenant shall stand fast with him," yet will he not visit our "trangsressions with the rod, and our iniquities with stripes ? " We are impure in heart, and unholy in conversation ; but are we not often satis fied with merely acknowledging this — allowing it — bare ly stating it, without fervent prayer that we may be re newed in mind, and may have that truth which God requireth, wrought in our inward parts ? These things are not marks of watching in prayer. We should beware of continuing to pray for those things, which we have had clear evidence that it is not the will of God to grant, and respecting which he has plainly said to us by the voice of his Providence, " Speak no more unto me of this matter." If we watch in prayer, we shall so feel our ignorance and blindness, as to desire the constant teaching of the Holy Spirit to instruct us as well what to pray for, as how to pray. We often deprecate real blessings, and importunately ask for those things which would be very injurious. We complain where we ought to praise. How often has God shown us, in the end which he has made, that what we have named troubles, were mercies in disguise; that what we have called disappointments, were bles sings ; and when our hearts have failed us, and we have been ready to renounce all hope, then God has ap peared as our Almighty Deliverer, as God all-sufficient ; and yet every new trial fills us with dismay, we bow under every fresh burden, and our faith waxes feeble at every renewed trouble. Mercies bestowed, call for present gratitude and future trust; but our unbelief shuts out thankfulness, and prevents confidence; and thus we go mourning and repining to the throne of grace, when we ought to raise the voice of thanksgiving, ON PRAYER. 187 and the song of praise. We do not watch in prayer, when we approach God with a doubting mind — with a " peradventure the Lord may hear us." If we had prayed in faith every time that we profess to have of fered our supplications to God, what would have been our advancement in the Divine life ! But we must watch also after prayer. If we are puffed up on account of our gifts, if we look with se cret satisfaction on our spiritual attainments, and are ready to make a secret comparison of ourselves with others, whom we esteem our inferiors in knowledge and " spiritual gifts, "- — we do not watch after prayer. When we have presented a petition to a fellow-creature, we do not straightway forget it ; we watch and wait till we have received our request; so should we wait till God shall hear and answer our prayer. When we ask for things agreeable to his will, we should wait as "they that watch for the morning," in full assurance that though it seem to tarry, yet it will come in due season. If we do not watch after prayer, and observe carefully how far, and in what manner our petitions are answered, we lose many occasions of praising God. " Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord." We do not watch after prayer, unless we expect those blessings which we have supplicated. Former experi ence should lead us to exercise this confident waiting. But, alas ! we are slow of heart to receive those very mercies for which we are importunate with God. We pray, "Lord, increase our faith;" and yet give way to doubting and despondency, We ask to be filled with joy in believing, and at the same time refuse the ^consolation of the Gospel. We call on God to bestow upon us a " good hope through grace," and to wean our affections from earthly things, and make us not 188 on pra'yer. only willing, but desirous to depart and be with Christ ; and yet we still cling to life with closer grasp, and re gard its possessions, and its enjoyments, and its pursuits, with fonder attachment. Though we have many times taken our fears, our distresses, our anxious cares, and our unbelief to the throne of grace, and have expe rienced a joyful deliverance, yet how little is our faith strengthened — how little is our believing expectation excitpd! Have we ever found that time to be lost, which we have spent in prayer ? Never did a christian on earth esteem those hours to be wasted unprofitably, which were passed in holding communion with his God : never did a sinner arrived at the throne of glory in heaven, regret the hours spent at the throne of grace on earth. Let this be our encouragement to wait on God, and to say with the prophet, " I will look unto: the Lord ; I will wait for the God of my salvation ; my God will hear me." ESSAY V. OX COVETOUSNESS. 1 HE history of Avarice, in its most odious form, is happily a very brief one. Self-love, in most cases, is too predominant in the bosom of man, to submit to all the self-inflicted tortures of a spirit devoted to the debasing vice of avariciousness. But while examples of persons, so entirely fallen under the dominion of avarice, as to obey all its revolting mandates, almost to the extinction of the first law of nature, and so absorbed by the sordid desire of adding to their useless heap, as to punish their own flesh ; while examples of this kind are of rare occurrence, the spirit of the vice has gained more ground than perhaps is generally suspected. Where this vice, "the basest appetite of basest souls," sways its iron sceptre, it dries up all the springs of hu manity ; it deprives man of the dignity of his nature ; it shuts up the heart. Unlike many other vices, it is not impaired by time, nor abandoned in old age ; but it acquires strength as it advances, it grows with the growth of its victim, and years only serve to add force to its malignancy and virulence. It is a flagrant sin against both God and man, for one eminent duty of man, aris ing from the evident design of God in his creation, is to assist his fellow-men ; but the miser lives as an insu lated being, as an individual, who was never placed in the same relation to God and man as others are. He 190 ON COVETOUSNESS. draws a circle around himself, which includes his own wants and selfish gratifications, and which excludes every benevolent connection with others. He dissolves every tie of relation ; he cancels every bond of obligati on, and, as it were, cuts himself off from the species. Determined to remove every obstacle in the way of ac cumulating wealth, the miser, as he is emphatically cal led, possesses a mind debased enough for the commis sion of any crime, cruel enough for any deed, sordid enough for any trick of chicanery, or any dishonest action, insensible to every reproach and invective. He is irreclaimable. Abundant instances might be adduced of persons having been reformed and delivered from the dominion of almost every vice; the most abandoned characters, the confirmed drunkard — the habitual blas phemer — the impure — the thief — the hateful liar, have all renounced their evil courses, and have become val uable members of society; but, it is not perhaps too much to affirm, that the annals of the universe do not afford a solitary instance of the reformation of a man wholly given up to avarice. This vice cleaves to the spirit, as tenaciously as the spirit does to the body, and death only can sever the union. " Of other tyrants short the strife, But Avarice is king for life : The despot twists with hard control, Eternal fetters round the soul." Let the miser rake together his heap of pelf — deny himself all gratifications of sense — torment his own flesh — rack his bowels — endure hunger and thirst ; death will soon make him poor indeed. He will not clothe his shivering body with warm raiment, nor stretch his with ered limbs on a soft couch; the sepulchre will soon be his cold bed. " Though he heap up silver as the dust, the ON COVETOUSNESS. 191 innocent shall divide it." He " shall lie down, but he shall not be gathered ; he openeth his eyes, and is not; for God shall cast upon him, and not spare." There is a disposition in many minds to regard the vice of covetousness, as consisting only in the griping and grasping acts of the most sordid avarice. Unless it exists to an extravagant degree, they cannot perceive its influence at all. Hence they represent a covetous man as one who hugs his coffers to his heart, and whose chief delight is continually to count over his hoard of pelf; and because they do none of these things, it never en ters into their thoughts to enquire, whether they are themselves free from the spirit of the evil. It would be almost an endless task, to develope all the secret holds of covetousness in the minds of men. It assumes so many forms, and appears under such various garbs and cloaks, that it often lurks in the bosom, un- perceived even by him who harbours and entertains it. It is most subtle and insinuating, gliding into the heart, and imperceptibly hardening it; and as " waters wear the stones," so covetousness insensibly steals, over the soul, and gradually, but completely, effaces all the finest feelings of our nature. It stiffens the arm that was once put forth to charitable deeds ; it closes the hand that was wont to be open for the relief of the dis tressed ; it dries up the tear of pity ; it benumbs all sympathetic feeling, and, like Medusa's head, trans forms its votaries into stone. It does not always discover itself, in an unwillingness to indulge in personal grati fications : it may reign in that heart, which denies itself no pleasure, except the exalted one of doing good to others. Expensive dress, gay equipage, a luxurious table, are not decisive proofs of a generous and liberal mind, because even profligate expenditure is not incom patible with a covetous disposition. 192 On covetousness. Covetousness often assumes the names and appearance of those properties, and virtues, which are justly held in high estimation in the world. Its votaries often call it diligence in business, economy, prudence, proper care and forethought for their children. These are qualities highly commendable ; but unless the heart be guarded with a jealous eye, covetousness may enter in with them, and so they will be debased. Blending with an avaricious principle, they will soon become de generate in their application. The accursed leaven of avarice, if once admitted into the heart, will soon assi milate every principle of human nature to its own ma lignant features. When touched by this evil spirit, di ligence becomes sordidness, economy niggardliness, and prudence meanness. The spirit of covetousness is not confined to any par ticular class of persons ; the poor, and the middling ranks of society, may be under its influence, as well as those, whose riches are heaped up, and never ex pended on benevolent purposes. The poor man, who is discontented with the station which Providence has assigned him, and who looks with an envious eye on the possessions of others, is under the dominion of the spirit of covetousness, as much as the man, whose con tracted heart denies him the power of enjoying his ac cumulated wealth, and who, "in the fulness of his suf ficiency, is in straits." Those who are successfully en gaged in the common walks of business, or in extensive mercantile concerns, cannot be too much on their guard against the encroachments of this evil. The Scriptural exhortation should be constantly impressed on their minds, " If riches increase, set not your heart upon them." It is here that the evil commences; diligence in business is commendable, and success calls for thank fulness, but if the heart is set on "uncertain riches," ON COVETOUSNESS. 193 then covetousness has entered into the soul, and diligence is exercised with a wrong design, and success is con verted into a curse instead of a blessing. Thankfulness for former mercies, is changed into an inordinate desire to obtain increasing wealth ; and that prosperity, which once excited the sincere gratitude of the heart to God, now serves only to call up the spirit of covetousness. He who was generous with a moderate share of riches, becomes unfeeling, sordidly parsimonious, and even an oppressor; while a competency supplied all his wants, he gave of that competency to relieve the wants of others, because he had not then enough to make him covetous; but as soon as abundance flowed in upon him, it closed his hand, and "shut up his bowels of compassion;" he then perverted his wealth to make an idol of it, and ex changed the love of God, for the love of money ; and he, who of late acknowledged God in all things, now makes gold his hope, and says to the fine gold, "Thou art my confidence." Covetousness makes a man dexterous in evading the claims of deserving want, and the demands of every worthy object on his bounty. It disposes him to raise objections against a good cause, whenever, for the pro motion of it, some of his money is required. Looking through the glass which the spirit of covetousness holds before his eyes, he thinks he can see satisfactory reasons for declining to give his support, either on account of some deficiency in the plan of the object proposed to his consideration, or some remote evil which may result from its prosecution. Or if neither of thr,se objections can be made with any appearance of truth, he will affect to speak of the superior claims of other objects, which, nevertheless, he does not intend to assist. All these excuses are made merely to save his money ; and by making them, he thinks to clear himself from the charge 2c 194 ON COVETOUSNESSt of covetousness, and to satisfy his conscience. The pressure of the times, the claims of numerous charitable institutions, are often made use of, as pleas to excuse a niggardly and covetous spirit ; as if national distresses did not press on all, and as if the calls to support the many benevolent designs of the age* were not addressed to all who have ability to contribute. Some persons speak of the frequent solicitations, that are made for charitable purposes, as if they only were the persons required to give of their substance. They conclude to give to none, because the objects are so numerous. The necessary expenditure in the family, and on other unavoidable occasions, is sometimes stated as an apology for withholding their money, when any donation for a benevolent purpose, is requested from rich persons who are under the influence of covetous ness. But the claims which are made in the shape of family expenses, and the legal demands of taxes and parochial rates, are altogether distinct from that which is due on the ground of generosity and benevolence. One duty does not destroy the validity of another ; and justice is never opposed to true charity, because the latter always foregoes its claims, when in competition with the paramount duties of the former. Persons of this description, who do contribute, never give accord ing to the merit of the object, or the scale of their pro perty, but only in the meanest proportion, that can screen them from the imputation of avarice. They will not commence a list of donations with their own names, lest they should give too much, that is, more than they might have surrendered, and yet have escaped the appellation of a miser : in cases where something must be given, they wait to see the contributions of others, and then inscribe thejr own, not according to a fair computation of comparative ability, but in the ON COVETOUSNESS. 195 smallest possible amount, and merely as a fee for the enrolment of their name in the annals of charity. They give their paltry contribution with many good wishes for the success of the cause ; and what is this but saying, " Depart in peace, be you warmed and filled ; notwithstanding they give not those things which are needful !" When the character of a man is generally known, as a mean and covetous person, the advocates of charity often endeavour to approach him with that lawful craft iness, of which the Apostle Paul speaks, and thus to take him with guile. But Argus had not more eyes, nor more vigilance, than the ever-wakeful spirit of co vetousness. As soon as the advocate of benevolence touches on the confines of a personal application for money, the alarm is taken, and the churl endeavours to prevent a direct solicitation of his aid, by anticipating a variety of reasons, which would justify a positive de nial on his part. It is very common on such occasions, to hear the covetous man assert as an apology for not rendering any assistance, that large sums are owed to him, which he cannot obtain; but this shuffle, when stripped of its evasive form, means no more than that the man has much money at interest on ample securities. Thus he makes the bulk of his property, which is not at hand, an excuse for withholding a moderate portion, which he could at all times dispense. Some of the baser sort descend to palpable untruth, in endeavouring to evade the discharge of any duty of charity, and affirm that they have no money at all- — not even a single shill ing ; meaning that they have none in some particular place, in some one bag or coffer ; and thus by mental reservations, they think to save their money and their veracity; while, in fact, they are guilty of deliberate falsehood, invented with more art, and cloaked with deeper disguise than usual. 196 ON COVETOUSNESS. The " love of money" is declared by inspiration, to be " the root of all evil." It has its source in the " pride of life," which influences the mind in a great variety of ways. Men do not always desire money, for the sake of the enjoyments which it will enable them to procure; this would at least, be rational; but the covet ous man, if proud and haughty, desires it that he may outvie his neighbours in sumptuousness and splendour of appearance ; or if he be of a meaner or more sordid turn of mind, he then desires it with the prospective notion of a foolish and empty kind of posthumous fame, that it may be said of him after his decease that he died possessed of such and such a sum of money ! Amazing folly ! Shall a man look for pleasure, in the report that shall be spread abroad of his immense riches, when he is gone naked to his final account — gone to answer to his Lord and Judge, for the manner in which he discharged his extensive trust and stewardship! What greater inconsistency can be exhibited, than a being, destined for immortality, in love with a little heap of shining ore, — willing to risk heaven, for the sake of aquiring a greater share of this ore than his fellow-creatures, — having his heart set upon that which is not — upon that which he knows he must leave, and that very soon, and for ever! — Man possesses really no more than he enjoys. This is the criterion of true wealth ; and therefore the contented poor man is richer than the self-tormenting miser, who hoards up his pelf, that he may have the single gratification of beholding it with his eyes. Many avaricious persons profess to be deeply impress ed with the duty which they owe to their children, and persuade themselves that they are making lawful and proper provision for them, when they are in fact merely indulging their own love of money. The saying of the ON COVETOUSNESS. 197 Apostle, " that parents should lay up for the children," is perverted by thousands, who think thereby to justify themselves in that accursed policy, which leads them to hoard up for their children the portion of the poor and destitute. And they are confirmed in their conduct by the too general approbation of the world ; for such persons are generally commended as prudent men, and good fathers. " The wicked boasteth of his heart's de sire, and blesseth the covetous whom the Lord abhor- reth." The appeal of the distressed poor, and the cry of suffering from the hovels of poverty and wretchedness and from the bed of sorrow and pain, are made in vain in the ears of those who profess to have so tender a regard for their posterity, and who are accumulating wealth, in the presumption of its being enjoyed by their de scendants. These persons disclaim all connection with covetousness ; nay, they are loudest in condemning it, and yet are themselves slaves to its influence. What debate, what consultation, before they resolve to take the smallest pittance from their treasures, and thus de fraud their heirs (so they speak,) by adding one comfort to the destitute ! Ah, what a delusion is this ! Your children may not live to possess all the labour that you have taken under the sun ; or they may spend in riotous living and profligate courses, the riches kept to their hurt. They may rush into many follies and vices, from which they might have escaped, had not your ill-judged parsimony empowered them to indulge in the wicked and vain imaginations of their hearts. Thus while you are naked and poor in the grave, the wealth you have gathered will be as fire in the bones of your children. O die not with the curse of the poor on your heads, but give to the needy that portion of your property, which God demands in their name, and which he committed to your charge for this very purpose. Let your chil- 198 ON COVETOUSNESS. dren be heirs to the " blessing of those that were ready to perish," and they will be richer, far richer than if they inherited the most ample estates, subject to the an ger of heaven. " If the rich man in the parable, (that parable being regarded for a moment as a literal fact,) might have been permitted to send a message to his relatives on earth, what might we imagine as the first thing, which the anguish of his spirit would have uttered on such a message ? Would it not have been an emphatic ex pression of the suffering, which the wealth he had ador ed, inflicted on him now, as if it ministered incessant fuel to his fires ? Would he not have breathed out an earnest entreaty, that it might not remain in that entire- ness in which it had been his idol ; as if any alleviation might in some way arise, from its being in any other state and use, than that in which he had sacrificed his soul to it ? ' Send away some of that accursed accumulation ; give some of it to the cause of God, if he will accept what has been made an abomination, by being put in his stead. Send some of it away, if it be but in pity to him, of whom you surely cannot sometimes help think ing, while you are enjoying it. Can you in your plea sures and pride escape the bitter thought, that for every gratification which that wealth administers to you, it in flicts an unutterable pang on him, by whose death it has become yours, and by whose perdition it is so much!'*" Many indulge in covetousness, while they imagine they are merely exercising in a proper manner, a pow er which God has conferred upon them ; they suppose they have a right to do as they please with what they call their own. But why has God distinguished thee from thy poor neighbour, by bestowing on thee the riches of this world, but that thou mightest " do good, * Foster's Missionary Sermon. ON COVETOUSNESS. 199 and be rich in good works." The rich are stewards of God's bounty ; and if they withhold it from the poor and destitute, they are unjust towards God, as those are dishonest towards men, who refuse to pay their just debts. He who withholds his money till his death, and then be queaths it to any charitable purpose whatever, does not make any atonement for his injustice, in having kept back what he ought to have distributed as a steward— as an almoner of God's bounty ; for what he gives in posthumous charity, deserves no praise, because he then gives what he can no longer retain — what is no longer his own. A man may give some of his substance, merely to pacify his conscience, and may think thereby to have complied with the command of the Scriptures, and to have fulfilled his duty to his neighbour. But he falls short in the best and purest part of the duty, which is a cheerful bestowment of our aid, with a compassionate heart and a liberal hand. We are commanded to love our neighbour as ourselves ; and this is a duty far more comprehensive, than the churl is willing to allow; for although the extremely avaricious man may literally bestow on his neighbour, as much as his own griping necessities wring from him, in expenditure on his own person, yet there is a selfishness in his avarice, which prompts him to add continually to his store, and which goes not so much into his best actions towards others, as to be a part of the principle which produced them, and to constitute his droppings of money a benevolence. He that gives, but does it grudgingly, does not act up to the spirit of the Divine precept. — And, again, rich men are commanded to be " ready to distribute; willing to communicate ;" but if they give of necessity, and only in the scanty proportion which their covetousness assigns to the command of God, they fall short in the 200 ON COVETOUSNESS. required principle and motive, and their gift is not a sacrifice well-pleasing to Him, who " loveth a cheerful giver," but only an unwilling offering to necessity, per formed grudgingly and with an improper aim. If men wish to know whether they are under the con trol of this basest of passions— the love of money for itself, let them sincerely and conscientiously enquire, whether in hoarding up their wealth, they do it out of disinterested love for their heirs, (from whom they can not withhold their riches but for a time,) or whether they keep it as a defence— as that which, in the absence of virtue, procures them respect and consideration among men,— as the grand and chief distinction in this life, — as the end and object of their existence on the earth. The hoardingup of money must proceed from one of these causes. If it be from disinterested regard for those that are to inherit his wealth, it is strange that such a feeling never prompts the covetous man, to dispense some por tion of his hoard to his needy relatives, while he is living, and thus to put an end to the calculations, which their poverty causes them to make on his long-expected, and wished-for death. Alas ! we need not hesitate in de ciding the motive by which the avaricious man is actu ated. Who is there that heaps up treasure with the thought of leaving it ? What covetous man toils to in crease his hoard, with any secret reference to the benefit of his heirs ? It is the idea of possessing, of retaining, and not of leaving or distributing his wealth, that ex cites the avaricious man. O what good might rich persons do, if they would act on this simple consider ation, If I give such and such sums to certain objects of charity, I shall not deprive myself of one comfort; rtor zcill my heirs know of the deduction from my property, if I leave no memorandums of the expenditure. While instructing the covetous man, in the means and ON COVETOUSNESS. 201 the obligation of doing good according to his ability, it may be proper to make a few remarks on charity. Per haps more has been said, and less felt on this subject than on any other. Reasoning upon the duty, and ac knowledging its universal obligation, are put in the place of discharging it ; and many excuse themselves by various reasons, from the performance of that which is nevertheless said to be the duty of all. The truth is, there is too little self-denial in most persons, who are in fluenced by a charitable feeling ; and for the rest, they never reflect on the relief which their superfluous comforts and luxuries would confer on the destitute. How many are perishing for lack of those things, which are by many consumed in waste and riot. How many poor widows are compelled to subsist on a weekly allowance, amount ing, in many cases, to less than a tenth part of what is consumed by a few convivialists at one entertainment. That wine which is drunk by those who are neither thirsty nor infirm, would save some languishing son of poverty from the grave. And let not those, who do not add drunkenness to their thirst, and against whom the charge of profligacy cannot be brought, think to shelter themselves from leaving undone, what was obli gatory on their part towards the poor, by the plea of managing their affairs with prudence and discretion ; they also consume much in useless expenditure, either on dress or furniture, if not on the dainties and gluttony of the table, which, if judiciously distributed, would bring down upon them the blessing of the fatherless, and make the widow's heart to sing for joy. Again, let no one excuse himself by averring, that he knows not of any who are in extreme poverty or distress, and that the recital of such cases never meets his ear. Although Cain renounced the charge, yet we are to a certain degree our brothers' keepers. Ought 2d 202 ON COVETOUSNESS. we not to enquire into our neighbour's poverty ; — Ought we not to enter the hovels of wretchedness, and suffer the sight of misery to make way to our hearts, and make our hands active, and our feet swift to dispense the relief that is in our power ? The obligation to this duty is not according to our pecuniary ability, but it is binding on all ; those that have not money or food to bestow, have yet the tear of sympathy to shed, — may yet speak a kind word. How many of the deserving poor and needy are too modest to make their cases known ; how many have no opportunity of telling their troubles and sorrows, to such as have power to relieve them. Instances are not wanting, of persons falling into fatal diseases, solely because they have not had sufficient nourishment for their bodies, and this too within the reach of houses where plenty reigns. And yet the pro prietors of these houses would think themselves slandered, by a charge of cruel inattention to the wants of the neigh bouring poor ; they would repel the accusation of being unfeeling and hardhearted. But does not blood lie at the doors of those, who suffer such things to take place within the range of their ability to prevent them, and even under their windows without any enquiry ? — " If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain ; if thou sayest, be hold we knew it not ; doth not He that pondereth the heart consider ? and He that keepeth thy soul doth He not know it ? and shall not He render to every man ac cording to his works ?" — " He that giveth unto the poor shall not lack ; but he that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse." Among the fruits of covetousness, there is none more hateful and injurious, than that which induces men to make a regular and even barter, between the wages which they allow their servants, and the services per- ON COVETOUSNESS. 203 formed by them. So that as soon as infirmity, or sudden illness, unfits the servants for the discharge of their accustomed duties, they are dismissed by their employers as useless and having no further claim on them for support or assistance. There is no species of ingratitude more detestable, than that of discarding old and worn-out servants, who have spent their youth and strength in service, and whose very life, as to the vigour and comfort of it, has been the price of a large share of the conveniences and enjoyments of their masters. Where there is sufficient property, it is doubtless the du ty of a master to continue to afford either entire support, or occasional assistance, to worn-out servants, and not to cast them aside, as is done with an old and useless piece of mechanism, which was constructed solely for the use of its proprietor, A truly-grateful mind retains a thankful remembrance of kindnessess, by whatever persons they may have been performed, whether by equals, or by those who moved in the humble rank of servants. A regard to justice also, as well as a feeling of gratitude, will prompt a generous master to secure, not merely the subsistence, but the comfort of his worn-out servant, who has not only faithfully discharged the terms of the contract, which assigned his portion of labour during his servitude, but has also largely promoted the conve nience and advantage of his employer; and has contri buted to these ends in a thousand ways, which could not be required of him nor exacted in the shape of duties, but which sprung from an honest principle and a kind neart, — A period of long and faithful service, amounts in fact to an equitable claim of adoption into the family of a wealthy master, so far as relates to the duty of that master, to provide for his household, and to cherish them in sickness or distress. — A man of true liberality 204 ON COVETOUSNESS. and strict honesty, always feels this obligation, and acts according to it ; but the selfish and niggardly need to be put in mind of what they owe to others, and to be urged to the performance of a duty, to which their co vetousness indisposes them. Such is the treacherous influence of covetousness, that it even induces its decided votaries, to presume that they are the faithful servants of God, — that they are among his favoured people, even while they are yielding themselves up to the full influence and sway of thataccursed principle. This is to deny the Scriptures, and to contradict the Word of God ; for has he not said, " Covetousness is idolatry ; " and is an idolater a par taker of his Spirit ? When the Scriptures pronounce covetousness to be idolatry, they do not mean that mo ney is worshipped in the same way, in which Pagan nations pay their adoration to senseless idols ; but that the very essence of the sin is found in the vice of covet ousness, because it withdraws from God, and places on a created good, those affections which are due only to the Supreme Being. Whatever assumes that place in the heart, which God alone should hold, — whatever is trusted in as a defence with that reliance, which should be placed only on God, is an idol ; and the heart which yields to it those alienated affections, and builds on it that false trust, becomes the residence of an idol, and not " the temple of the living God." With what reason then can a man, who is living under the influence of the base spirit of covetousness, claim the appellation of a true christian, or the holy relation of an adopted child of God ; for " what agreement hath the temple of God with idols ? " Men of wealth and influence are often encouraged in this great mistake, by the homage which is paid to them on account of their property. They remain ignorant ON COVETOUSNESS. 205 of their real character, and imagine that the deference which is paid to their opinions, and the outward respect which is shown to them, is the expression of deserved «steem — is a tribute due to their merit. The reason that wealth is so much coveted, and the possessors of it so much regarded, is that we are apt to forget that it is conferred by God, and that there is a great responsibility attached to the possession of it. We look upon it too much as the fruit of industry and ability, or the mark of superior worth, and so exalt the wealthy man in our estimation on account of these qualities, although he may be entirely destitute of them. No man is treated with respect and consideration, on account of possessing a robust constitution, or a strong and vigorous body, in the absence of wealth, although far superior to it ; because we see at once these advantages to be the gifts of God ; we acknowledge that he distinguishes whom soever he pleases with the bestowment of them, and that no merit is due to the possessor, merely because he enjoys them. Let us do the same in respect of the out ward circumstances of the estate, and then the possession of great riches will be viewed in connexion, not only with the ability which they confer, but also with the obligations which they impose of doing good. But money is made too much a distinction, and so it has ever been in all highly civilized nations. The question asked in the time of the Roman satirist, still occurs in our hearing every day; " Quot pascit servos ? Quot possidet agri Jugera?" As soon as a stranger is spoken of, as claiming any share of our notice or regard, the enquiry turns imme diately on his wealth ; "Protinus ad censum; de moribus ultima fiet Quoestio." 206 ON COVETOUSNESS. How many are there, who, having no other superiority, than what is conferred by abundant riches, look down with contempt, in the pride of that sordid distinction, on the poorer and more respectable part of the com munity. The consciousness that the man of integrity, or of cultivated mind, must, if poor, come to them for assistance, gives them a notion of superiority ; and knowing that the virtuous, or the intelligent poor man, can scarcely struggle through the world in the midst of embarrassment and perplexity, their envy of superior worth, or superior mental faculties, is changed into a tho rough contempt of every thing which is not either gold or silver. It is money which adds weight to a preacher's doc trine, gives currency to a man's sayings, carries conviction into the breasts of a man's audience, or at least silences all objections. " The poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard." "Rara in tenui facundia panuo." If a poor man exerts himself in promoting any laud able object, he is often called a busy-body ; — he there touches upon the prerogative of the rich, who though they claim the field of usefulness, yet are not always found in the career of benevolence. If a person in inferior rank, be particularly active in attempting to do good, his name is often quoted by the purse-proud and niggardly, with the addition of a sneer or a laugh, and all this, because having no means of his own to accom plish his benevolent plans, he aims to convince rich men of their duty, and to put them into a way of ful filling the end, for which God has bestowed wealth upon them. What is more frequent, than to hear some rich per sons reprove the conduct of others in humbler circum- ON COVETOUSNESS. 207 stances, for exercising liberality beyond their resources. It must be allowed that such liberality is not to be com mended ; it is contrary to prudence, and sometimes, perhaps, to justice also. But it is a noble principle; it manifests a kind soul — a tender heart; and it is emphatically the failing (if it be one) of those, who possess but very limited means of performing the liberal things, which they devise. These are the persons, who are found ever most ready to minister of their substance to the necessitous. The rich seldom give too largely, though many of them give without discretion. The curb of prudence is seldom required to check the hand of the wealthy man, lest he should drain the reservoir of his bounty, by too lavishly pouring forth its streams. The outcry against this imprudent bounty of those who are in straitened circumstances, is raised by many wealthy persons, to cover their own niggardliness with the fair name of prudence ; and because, when the scanty re sources of the poor liberal man fail, they are in danger of being called upon to open their own purses. And yet it is but right that they who give not to the poor, should give to him, who has dispensed all his substance in charitable purposes. When the failings of a wealthy man are spoken of, it is with every extenuation that can be made ; or they are palliated by the application of softer terms than ought to be used in characterising vice : his avariciousness is termed closeness; and if he be a profligate, who has descended in his vicious career, to the lowest gradation of baseness, and treachery, and deceit, he is called a gay man; and the severest reproof that is applied to the mention of his vicious courses is, ' What a pity he does not act otherwise.' But the failings of the poor man are too often blazoned with exact, and unnecessary, and cruel enumeration. Epithets denoting villainy and 208 ON COVETOUSNESS. worthlessness, are unsparingly heaped upon him ; and he is accounted almost unworthy of commiseration. What is more common, than to hear the case of some unfortunate man of the strictest integrity and good faith, lamented by those, who never put forth a helping hand, to save him from sinking in the wreck of all his little worldly property. Pity is cheap ; and it is too often put in the place of generosity. A very common delusion arises from the notion that persons have liberal minds, and are free from the dominion of covetousness, because they are always ready to wish well- to others. Few are more ready to express their benevolence in words, than the covetous, because this is a cheap and easy method of pacifying their consciences. The foregoing remarks are not intended to be applied generally to rich persons. God forbid that such a statement should give a faithful representation of all who possess wealth, either in competence, or abundance 1 Who is there that cannot name several persons, that are as distinguished for their beneficent actions, as for their extensive property ? The writer has the happiness of knowing many such characters. And the age in which we live, is certainly marked by the unwearied exertions of benevolence, in the cause of enlightened philanthropy. The intention of the writer is not to depreciate the cha racter of the wealthy, but to expose the secret holds of the spirit of covetousness, to detect its multiplied di versity of appearance, to lay bare its hideous features, and show some of its hateful consequences. Let the covetous man be satisfied with the distinction which arises from his wealth; let him quiet his conscience with the soothing reflection, that no man condemns him, save those who have not the same share of money, whose opinion in his estimation is beneath notice - but let him also recollect, that the decisions of heaven are ON COVETOUSNESS; 209 hot according to man's judgment, and that there is an unchangeable decree concerning him gone forth from the Eternal, and registered in his written Word. When it is affirmed that avarice contains in it the seeds of every vice, no more is advanced than can be readily proved ; for the love of money is the predominant feel ing in the breast of the covetous man, and this love is the " root of all evil." He is hurried on by it in all his pursuits ; he has given himself up to it ; it has taken complete possession of him ; and if no means which may be called legal, could be found by which he might in some degree gratify this sordid propensity, it is not to be supposed that he would hesitate to commit robbery, or even murder, to effect his purpose. " There is not a more wicked thing than a covetous man; for such a one setteth his own soul to sale." The covetous are ever on the watch, to put any thing in the place of practical beneficence. Some of this stamp may be found who will readily acknowledge that God is the Giver of all their possessions, and who pre tend to express much thankfulness to Divine Providence, that they have never wanted the necessaries of life. This hypocritical cant is only a piece of deceit, whereby they think to cloak the spirit of covetousness, which predominates in their hearts; for if they truly acknow ledged the hand, that bestows all their wealth, they would also acknowledge the government of God over that wealth, as well as over their mind and person. But the covetous man thinks himself accountable to no one, for the use which he makes of his riches ; he es teems himself, whatever his professions may be, absolute and independent master of all his possessions. The spirit of covetousness never forsakes him. He does every thing with a secret reference to his money. What ever he undertakes, thinks, or purposes, or discourses 2e 210 ON COVETOUSNESS. of, this feeling comes in for its share in all his induce ments, motives, apprehensions, and desires. Ask him to engage in any pursuit, he refers to this spirit, and acts agreeably to its decision. Solicit him to do a kind action, his mind instantly recurs to his money, and ac cording to the dirty, grovelling sentiment, which such a consideration awakens in his breast, will be his answer. Ask a rich but covetous person for the merest trifle, in behalf of the most worthy object, and you alarm the base principle within him, which is ever suspicious and wakeful. Fearing to be over-reached, or to part unad visedly with that which is the soul of all his sordid pleasure, and which he looks upon as the root of his very existence, he demands time to consider of your request ; he is not to be surprised into a generous action, even of the cheapest kind. He is at all times in his stronghold. The covetous principle recurs to him tit every turn ; he looks on all things through this medium ; he speaks as this spirit gives him utterance ; he acts in obedience to its movements on his soul. And if at any time he is prevailed upon to open his clenched hand, his heart goes not with the scanty pittance, and his gift confers no obligation, because it wants that promptitude which is the soul of generosity. The respect which is paid to those who are in pos session of great wealth, and which is not withheld even when there are no moral qualities in the possessor to procure esteem, is one great cause of the vice of covet ousness being so general. No expression of outward respect is refused by the generality of persons, towards notoriously griping and niggardly characters ; and yet- these characters are violators of the laws of God, and enemies to society, in one of the most attractive and distinguishing features of its constitution. Covetousness in Scripture is called idolatry, the most hateful sin in the ON COVETOUSNESS. 211 sight of God ; and the covetous man defrauds his poor neighbour of that portion, which God had placed in his hands in trust for the children of want. Were this vice as disreputable in society, as some others which partake in fact of less guilt towards God, and are less injurious to man ; and were the rich defaulter, in every case of moral delinquency, treated with the same se verity as is shown towards the poor culprit, we should meet with less frequent, or, at least, less flagrant in stances of the effects of covetousness. But, can we expect that such a state of society will ever arrive, when riches without merit will not be able to purchase regard ; when only men of integrity and usefulness, will be called respectable; when covetousness will be seen in its true light by all, and its votaries be shunned as violators of one of the first duties of humanity — as en emies of their species ; when " the vile person shall no more be called liberal, nor the churl said to be boun tiful ?" ESSAY VI. a 0 m ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. a Q m '' KNOW THYSELF," is a maxim of twofold authority ; it comes to us indeed from the mouth of the Grecian sage, so far as relates to the conciseness and form of the expression, but it has a higher sanction from the Word of" God. The scriptural commands, either implied, or expressly given, which relate to this im portant attainment, are very numerous: "Commune with your own heart." — " Examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith; prove yourselves." — "Keep thy heart with all diligence." — " Ponder the path of thy feet." A knowledge of our own character is necessary in the affairs of the present life, but much more in those which are connected with the eternal state. The want of it has led many persons to intrude into situations, which they were not at all qualified to sustain. A man may easily know more of the duties of any particular office, than of his own competency to perform them. Few persons know much of what is in their hearts, ex cept those who have experienced great vicissitudes of pondition, and have been at the same time in the habit of close observation on their own character. Circumstances often educe those evil and depraved passions, which lurked in the heart unknown, and un suspected, because unexcited. Many persons have for p, lqng period maintained a high reputation, while they ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 213 lived in a condition, which was free from the excite ment of any peculiar trials or temptations ; till a change of situation has suddenly exhibited their true character, by discovering those evil propensities, which before lay dormant and unheeded in their hearts, but which being roused, are brought into action in all their force and malignity. This consideration should restrain our harsh judgments in such cases, because we are ourselves ex posed to become examples of the same depravity. We are unable to judge of the guilt of other persons' con duct. We know not what force has been superadded to the temptations by which they have been assailed, on account of the peculiar state of their minds at the time when they fell. We know not the invincible ignorance under which they may have laboured, nor the darkness which prejudices of early education, or the contagion of bad examples, may have brought over their under standings. God only can pronounce on the degree of moral criminality, which attaches to any person ; because He only knows the state of their hearts and minds at all times. Have we not a thousand times planned and purposed many evils, from which we have been re strained by the Providence of God, but the guilt of which lies on our souls, being imputed to us by that holy law which judges the secrets of the heart, as well as the outward conduct of the life ? It is more than probable, that many of our secret sins, for which we have felt but little remorse, which we have completely cloaked from the world, and which, if known, would not perhaps bring upon us any severe reproaches from man, nor cover our faces with shame, are notwithstand ing more grievous to the Holy Spirit, more hateful in the sight of God, and render us more guilty before Him, than some of the more flagrant and open trans gressions of others, whom we have condemned with un sparing indignation. 214 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. The universal weakness and depravity of man, and his liability to fall beneath the force of temptation, pre clude for ever the possibility of justification by our own righteousness ; because if we have not been guilty of the actual commission of many gross and flagrant sins, yet the seeds of all evil are at all times in our hearts, and the opportunity and temptation of peculiar circum stances are alone wanted, to bring those evils into ex ercise. Thus, according to the reasoning of the Apos tle, " every mouth must be stopped, and all the world become guilty before God," " that no flesh should glory in his presence ;" " for there is no respect of persons with God." The oft-cited case of Hazael, proves that men know not their own hearts ; and that he who acts his part well in an inferior station, and is a useful mem ber in the lower gradations of society, may become in a more exalted rank, a pest as odious and destructive as his influence and power are extensive. Even Nero when young, was susceptible of the tender feelings of humanity ; and he who became afterwards the plague and curse of his nation, gave at one time fair and hope ful evidence of becoming the father of his people. Want of self-knowledge leads to much self-deception. The covetous man is often so far deluded, as to esteem himself liberal and generous ; and if any persons, who have at any time been under his control and direction, become prosperous and useful members of society, he does not hesitate to take the credit of such a result to himself, although he neither intended such an end, nor promoted it with his own aid and bounty. Did we know more of our own character, we should not be so often overcome by those temptations, into which we presumptuously run with a fond reliance on our own supposed strength. A thousand defeats do not serve to make us wiser ; we are daily vanquished by the same ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 215 besetting sins, and yet are prone to forget the defeat, and incautiously to place ourselves again and again in the same perilous situations, and to venture again sin gle-handed to the combat ; instead of looking up to God with a confession of our weakness, and cryino- to Him for help and strength, to enable us to fight the good fight of faith, and to resist with success the covert designs, and open attacks of our spiritual adversaries. It is a common delusion of the human heart, to enter on many pursuits without due inquiry into their nature and tendency, through fear that such an inquiry would either induce us to relinquish the favourite object, or bring us under the guilt of doing violence to our conscience, by continuing to follow that course, of the unlawfulness of which, we have obtained undoubted evi dence. The guilt of any wrong course is proportioned to the information which we might have acquired by diligent search, respecting its conformity to the will of God, or its tendency to injure our spiritual welfare ; and not in, proportion to that degree of information, which we choose to procure. There is a certain degree of christian liberty in this case, which is often misunder stood, and stretched far beyond its proper extent. When St. Paul was instructing the Corinthians in the nature of christian liberty, he allowed them, when sit ting at the tables of unbelievers, to eat whatever was set before them, without any unnecessary inquiry as to the designation of any part of the food, by him that- provided the entertainment, on the principle that " the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof;" and therefore whatsoever was set before them of the creatures of God, was to be received with thankfulness, and would be attended with the Divine blessing. The prin ciple here recommended, is often abused. We often engage in many things, without any examination of their 216 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE.' nature and tendency, either for conscience' sake, orfof God's sake ; and often persist in our ways, even after circumstances have plainly said to us, " This is offered in sacrifice unto idols." We may neglect many duties on account of oiir igno rance with respect to the nature and extent of the talents committed to us, or the obligations under which we lie to " Occupy" them to our own improvement, to the good of others, and to the glory of our Maker. Therefore the knowledge of ourselves, of our characters and duties, and of the particulars of our condition, is most import ant, and should be the Object of our daily study. The true extent of our duty is not limited by those parts of it only, which are so prominent as to force themselves up on our attention ; but it is according to what we may know, if" we inquire with diligence and earnest desire, and to what we m;iy perform, if we are resolute in our endea vours, and constant in seeking from God that assistance, of which we stand in need. We should ever remember that He " with whom we have to do," and who will be our future Judge, knows exactly our situation, and all the opportunities which it affords us of doing good ; He sees at all times our deficiencies, and the extent and nature of all the obligations connected with our circum stances, in all their parts, and in all their bearings. It is however in a religious point of view, that self- knowledge is most important ; because a mistake in the estimation which we make of our own character in the sight of God, may lead us to a loss of the greatest magni tude, and also irreparable. A false notion of security prevents persons who are exposed to danger, from mak ing use of the only means of deliverance. How can a man endeavour to regain the favour of God, unless he first apprehend that he has lost that favour, and conse quently incurred his anger ? He who has become crun- ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 225 it is, to go out of this world, ignorant of the next, — to take blindfold a step which can never be retracted ! And if you might have known of the things which be long to your peace, and would not ; — might have at tended the public instruction of the ministry, and would not, — might have been told of the way of salvation, and would not hearken, — how greatly will your guilt be aggravated ! If they who knew not their Lord's will, shall be punished, what shall be done to them who re fused to know his will — who despised his authority ! If they shall be judged, who had no law, what shall be the end of those who have the law, but heed it not ; who have the will of God declared to them, but set it at nought ! Precious as is the blood of Christ, it will not be sprinkled on those, who wilfully and obstinately persist unto the end, in their ' rebellion against God ! Powerful as is the mediation, prevalent as is the inter cession of Christ, they will be of no avail to those who die impenitent ! But a deficiency of self-knowledge is not confined to those only, who are ignorant of their own character as sinners, there are many persons who have attained to such a knowledge of themselves, as to perceive that they fall under the condemnation of the law of God, in very many instances. They are not sufficiently acquaint ed with the spiritual nature of the Divine law, to dis cover that they are unable to fulfil its requirements, which are " holy, just, and goc-d," and are therefore cut off from all pretensions to salvation by the works of the law ; nor are they sufficiently acquainted with their own hearts, to be convinced that in them "dwelleth no good thing,"— that they are " very far gone from ori ginal righteousness, and are of their own nature in clined to evil;" yet they are so far convinced of sin, as to be desirous of obtaining pardon, but they do not 2g 226 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. seek it in the way in which it is offered in the Scriptures ; they are so far aware of the deficiencies with which they are chargeable, that they endeavour to procure a righte ousness to justify themselves, but not that "righteousness which is of God." Repentance is a duty of universal obligation, be cause " all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God ;" but the self-righteous exalt repentance into the place which Christ should hold in their hearts. They mistake the conditions of salvation, for the cause and purchase ; and those religious services, which are only the means of grace, they use as mediators, by which, the favour of God is to be procured. They are so little acquainted with the nature of the finished work of Christ, that they regard it rather as the means by which God is made willing to be reconciled, than as the sole purchase of a complete reconciliation. All that Christ has done, is in their estimation, to put men in a way of being saved by their own duties and efforts ; they do not trust in Him, as that Redeemer whose blood was shed to atone for their sins, and to procure their pardon; whose perfect obedience was necessary to jus tify them before God; whose continual intercession ren ders their prayers and praises acceptable to God, and dispenses all their blessings ; and whose Spirit alone can renew their hearts, produce faith in their souls, enable them to show forth good works, and prepare them for the enjoyment of the heavenly glory. Men are naturally prone to self-righteousness. The first covenant is so rooted in the nature of man, that he must be taught of God, and spiritually renewed, before he will submit to, and cordially embrace the Covenant of Grace. The law is written in the heart of man with indelible characters. Aware that at his first creation, he had power to obey his Maker with perfect obedience, ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 227 man still cleaves to the same method of acceptance with God. Till he is divinely illuminated, he does not per ceive that the law is binding on his conscience, and takes cognizance of the secrets of the heart; that no obedience can be accepted by God, unless it be perfect, and that the law makes no provision for the smallest offence ; for " whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." The least violation of its commands, even an obliquity of the will, brings the offender under its heavy denunciations, and precludes for ever the possibility of salvation by works. Its terms are most extensive, and its sentence irreversi ble ; " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things, which are written in the book of the law to do them." When a sinner is first convinced of sin, he generally " goes about to establish his own righteousness, being ignorant of the righteousness of God." So when the man in the Gospel came to our Lord for directions how to be saved, he came as one who was in earnest about the salvation of his soul, for we read that he came run ning; but the sequel shows it was in a self-righteous spirit that he made the application, when he said, " What shall I do, that I may inherit eternal life." He thought himself able to observe perfectly the com mands of God ; for when Jesus rehearsed the duties of the second table ^of the law, he professed to have ob served all these from his youth ; but notwithstanding all his boasting, he had not yet learned self-denial ; and therefore our Lord, who " needed not that any should testify of man, for he knew what was in man," seeing the undiscovered evil that lurked in his heart, and that covetousness was his besetting sin, charged him to sell all his possessions, and give alms unto the poor, and take up his cross and follow him ; " And he was sad at 228 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. that saying, and went away grieved." Lacking this one thing, he was destitute of all ; having failed in one point, he forfeited all claim to a righteousness of his own procuring. Again, when the Jews asked Jesus in the same spirit what they should do, that they might "work the works of God," Jesus said unto them, "This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent." Indeed the whole design of Scripture is to show us our real condition, and to discover to us the wise and merciful provision, which God has made to meet all our wants and necessities. The whole plan of redemption is contrary to the wisdom of man ; God has there con founded "the wisdom of the wise," and brought "to nothing the understanding of the prudent." All the doctrines of the Gospel tend to humility ; and the doc trine of the Cross is most humbling. The proud and self-righteous Pharisee, who is wise in his own conceit, is offended at the self-denying and abasing terms of the Gospel ; he wishes to retain his fancied works, and thinks to recommend himself to God by his supposed holiness. But he will never attain to the favour of God, till he has laid aside all boasting, and has learned to account those things, which he once highly esteemed, as vile and as loss, that he may " win Christ, and be found in him, not having his own righteousness which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith." It is hard for him to renounce those false reliances, on which he had built all his fond hopes of salvation ; he cleaves to his own deeds as the ground of acceptance with God, and listens not to, or does not understand what is addressed to him by the Faithful and True Witness, " Thou sayest, ' I am rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,' and knowest not ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 229 that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." The endeavours of the self-righteous to procure their own salvation, will be fruitless to themselves, and they tend also to rob God of his honour. Grace is the golden thread, that runs through the whole tissue of the work of human redemption ; but the self-righteous sully its beauty, by covering it with the dross of their own sup posed merits. He that seeks salvation by the works of the law ; that is, he that aims either partially or wholly, at being his own Saviour, is doubly accursed; first, for his presumption, "Cursed be the man that maketh flesh his arm ;" and secondly for failing in his under taking, "As many as are of the works of the law, are under the curse;" that is, they are subject to the con ditions of the first covenant, which required perfect obedience, and condemned all who fell short of it in the smallest degree. Besides, " if righteousness come by the law, then is Christ dead in vain." If man could save himself, why was his redemption purchased at the amazing expense of the blood of the Son of God ! He that seeks to save himself, does in a manner pronounce the wisdom of God to be foolishness, in planning the work of redemp tion ; and the power of God to be weakness, in execu ting that work ! Mark then, the impiety, the blasphe my, as well as the folly of self-righteousness. A man may be so far impressed with a sense of the importance of religion, as to attend to the outward ser vices of it with exactness. The power of natural con science may influence him so far, that he may be blameless as to the " form of godliness," but remain destitute of its power. Being deeply convinced of the value of the soul, and the solemnity of an unseen eter nity, he may join himself to the people of God, and 230 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE, become an outward member of Christ's visible church on earth ; but though in the sheep-fold, be hath not enter ed by Christ the door, he hath come in by some other way. He may even exceed many sincere believers in ex ternal morality, but his heart is unenlightened ; all that he does, which is in itself good, proceeds from a wrong motive, and he has a wrong aim in view constantly ; so that the nature of his works is changed, and instead of being well-pleasing in the sight of God, as the fruits of faith, they become an abomination, because they are intended to derogate from the glory of the redemption which is by Christ Jesus. Sanctification does not con sist in a mere attendance on the outward services of re ligion — the public worship of God's house. These things do not profit by themselves ; they do not impart any holiness to those who engage in them : but on the con trary, if they touch them with unhallowed hands, or take them on feigned lips, they contaminate and pollute them. The backsliding Jews of old, fell into this error, of substituting the form for the power of godliness, — of putting the attendance on holy duties, in the place of holiness of heart and conduct. That which is good in itself, cannot make another so, without the aid of Divine influence ; and therefore a formal and strict attendance on the mere profession of religion, can neither justify nor sanctify ; but on the contrary, those who are un clean and impure in heart and practice, defile these good and holy things. " Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, Ask now the Priests concerning the law, saying, If one bear holy flesh in the skirts of his garment, and with his skirt do touch bread, or pottage, or wine, or oil, or any meat, shall it be holy ? And the Priest answered and said, No. — If one that is unclean, touch any of these, shall it be unclean ? And the Priest answered and said, itshall be unclean. — So is this people and so is this nation, ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 231 befoTe me, saith the Lord and so is every work of their hands, and that which they offer is unclean." As self-knowledge leads to humility, so the want of it makes men proud and conceited. Pride is at the root of all evil in the human heart ; and as the heart of the self-righteous man is unrenewed,, pride reigns there in all its strength. " Learn of me," is a lesson of our Lord's which he has never received. Puffed up with pride, on account of imaginary attainments, he looks down on others with contempt. Like the Pharisee of old, he trusts in himself that he is righteous, and despises others; like him too he gives God thanks that he is not as other men are, and vauntingly enumerates the long catalogue of his outward services, and on these he builds his self- conceit, and his contempt of other men. " By the grace of God, I am what I am," said the eminent Apostle Paul. He ascribed every thing in his character that was conformable to the Divine Will, to the " Father of Lights," from whom alone cometh "ev ery good and perfect gift." Not so the self-righteous ; he " sacrifices unto his own net, and burns incense unto his own drag ; " he saith with respect to his obedience, his religious services, his alms, ' Are not all these the work of my own hands ? ' He does not stand on the same ground as the humble christian, and therefore he dis dains him ; he has no feelings in common with him ; he partakes in no manner of the same spirit ; he never knew what it is to have a broken and contrite heart, and to cry out from deep humiliation of soul, "God be mer ciful to me a sinner/' Humility is a grace which he knows not how to feign; he does not understand its nature, having never felt its operation : it is a temper of mind far beyond his mark, — it is the mind of Christ, and the eminent work of the Holy Spirit in the souls of the regenerate, and therefore 232 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. is not among his catalogue of virtues. He has in deed a pretended humility, which consist* in words only; he will call himself a "miserable offender," and say "there is no health" in him, but in his heart he thinketh far otherwise. Even in his acknowledgements of dependance on God, pride discovers itself; as in the case of the Pharisee before-mentioned, he will thank God for the good which he fancies to be in himself, but then he subjoins to this professed thankfulness, the proud self-gratulation, that he is " not as other men are." He is loud in condemning any that have fallen through the power of temptation, and delights to proclaim a- broad the failings of his neighbour, that the eyes of men may be turned to his own superior sanctity. Proud of his own imaginary strength and integrity, he knows not how to make that allowance for the trespasses of others, which a feeling of common weakness and infir mity, and a liability to the same temptations should teach him to make. Christians are commanded to re store any one who is overtaken by a fault, considering themselves, lest they also be tempted; but as the self- righteous man is a stranger to that struggle between the flesh and the spirit, which is maintained in the hearts of all that have received the renewing and sanctifying influence of the Holy Ghost, he fancies himself able to overcome any trial, and withstand any seducement to sin. Elated with this self-confidence, he unfeelingly publishes abroad his brother's offences, joins in the per secuting laugh and sneer, and points the finger of scorn and contempt. He says to his offending brother, "Stand by thyself; come not near to me, for I am ho lier than thou." This spirit is more common than may at first be ima gined. In fact we can scarcely converse with any one ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 233 on the character of others, but some failing will be no ticed, either to bring them down to the levelof pur own character, or in a way which evidently shows, that the reprover considers himself free from a similar charge^ and wishes to be so esteemed. What heart is not con scious of this failing in some degree ? Just as in the case of the decease of any person in the neighbourhood, all are ready to assign some peculiar, reason for his dis solution ; some disease is named, from which they ac count themselves exempt; some family complaint is mentioned as the cause ; or it is attributed to a particu larly dangerous occupation, or to an injurious course of life ; and whatever cause is assigned, the intention is too apparent, namely — a willingness to conceal from them selves their own mortality, and vainly to presume that they shall not fall by a similar calamity. One boasts of his good constitution ; another tells us of the long life of his ancestors ; some recount the precautions which they take against disease ; others rely on their temper ance, or healthful occupation. So in cases of the faults and sins of others, they are mentioned with a secret in tention of asserting our own innocence, as to the parti cular delinquency spoken of; the weakness of others is introduced to set off our own supposed strength ; and even while we enumerate the faults of others, without any addition of censure, there is a secret comparison drawn in our minds, betweem them and ourselves ; and pride, that corrupt principle of our depraved nature, enjoys a close gratification in the persuasion that we are not surpassed by others. The self-righteous person is confident. He feels no misgivings of heart, lest he should at last fall short of the heavenly rest. He has no anxious doubts and fears concerning the genuineness of his faith, and the sincer ity of his repentance, or whether his love bears the marks 2 11 234 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. of that heavenly grace, as they are set down by the Apostle. Self-conceit prevents reflection, and blinds him to the error of his ways, and self-will leads him for ward in the road to destruction. Did he consider his ways, it would be the first step towards conviction and reformation. A suspicion that something might be wrong, would lead him to say, " What have I done ? " — "I thought on my ways," says David, " and turn ed my feet unto thy testimonies." Again, he is offended at the humbling doctrines of the Bible. The fall, and consequent depravity of man, the utter wickedness of the human heart, the inability of man to restore himself to the lost favour of God, the doctrine of salvation by free-grace, and the necessity of the teaching of the Holy Spirit, though so plainly de clared in Scripture, are so many stumbling-blocks to his pride. " Lord, what is man, that thou takest know ledge of him," is a reflection that never entered his mind. He thinks much of what he calls the dignity of human nature, and he is highly offended with the faithful minister of the Gospel, who, disregarding the pride of man insists on the plain statements of the Bible, and grounds all that be advances on the Word of Eter nal Truth. When such a minister declares in the lan guage of Scripture, "There is none righteous, no not one, they are all gone out of the way," the self-righteous man replieth in his heart, " I am clean without trans gression ; I am innocent, neither is there iniquity in me." When the preacher insists in the words of the prophet, that " the heart is deceitful above all things and despe rately wicked," he replies, " thou speakest falsely ; the Lord our God hath not sent thee to say" thus and thus. When he hears it advanced that " we are all as an un clean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags," he thinks within himself that he is righteous, and ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 235 saith, " I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin ;" 1 have whereof I may trust in the flesh. But what will be the end of self-righteous delusions ? Not to be at all convinced of sin, and to seek salvation by a false way — by our own works or deservings, will have the same fatal termination. By the former, the victim of carelessness is prevented from seeking deliver ance ; by the latter the deluded Pharisee is led to seek it in a way in which it can never be found, a way which adds to bis former guilt, and seals his perdition. We will suppose that the self-righteous person has succeed ed in establishing a righteousness, which he presumes will abide the trial of God's just judgment; the veil which has concealed his real character from himself, has been so nicely woven, and so exactly adapted, that the light of truth has not penetrated through it to reach his heart. He dies. Where is now his hope ? At the bar of God his mask falls from him ; he appears without disguise before Him that trieth the reins. " Terrors take hold on him as waters ; — for God shall cast upon him and not spare." He was proud and self- conceited on earth ; therefore he shall not be " hid in the day of the Lord's anger." He shot bitter words as arrows, against his brother, who fell in the hour of temptation ; he spared not, but was merciless, therefore God shall judge him out of his own mouth, and shall reward him even as he hath dealt to others, even double unto him, according to his works. His pretended fear of God was " taught by the precept of men ; " his 'sacrifices multi plied his transgressions ; he was {' stout-hearted," and without all fear as to the issue of his ways ; therefore will God " come near to him to judgment," and " be a swift witness against" him. He made his forehead "as an adamant, harder than flint," but now he shall be ashamed of his. former boastings and dependance ; he 236 ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE. shall be utterly confounded, yea, he shall sink into " everlasting contempt." His self-righteous spirit was offended at the humbling doctrines of the Gospel ; and now shall he be judged according to bis own works, and will be found far from righteousness. He rejected a free salvation offered by the grace and mercy of God, and now, " He that made him, will not have mercy on him, and he that formed him will show him no favour." The worst of all delusions, however, because the most injurious, arising from a want of self-knowledge, is the "lying spirit" which enters into the hearts of some persons, persuading them that they are the peculiar fa vourites of heaven, because they have adopted certain doctrines into their religious creed ; and that they shall assuredly reach heaven at last, by virtue of the sure de crees of God, although their conduct is such as to show too plainly, that they have no fear of God before their eyes. They have renounced all hope of salvation by the works of the law ; but they have also renounced all mor al obligation ; they speak of Jesus as the only Saviour, but in their lives, they are "the enemies of the Cross of Christ." Their only inquiry respecting the religious character of others is, » What are their opinions ? ' Our Lord has said, " By their fruits ye shall know them ; " but these persons, as if more acquainted with the human heart, consider such a test as indecisive. They speak of others, whose conduct and conversation are becoming the Gospel, as possessing the mere skell of morality, if their creed do not exactly correspond with the system, which they have laid down as the only orthodox faith. Every deviation, however small, from this system, is by them accounted a mark of reprobation. They have a vocabulary current among them, and whosoever fails in the due pronunciation of their "Shibboleth," is re garded as under spiritual darkness. — All. places are to ON SELx^KNOWLEDGE. 237 them alike fit for the discussion of religious subjects, you may hear them reasoning high of f,DGE. ^ , . ': '"' V tuer-'- points, the fos they shall .iwve to answer &i t& God. Bui ibi'S kind of cono-.-alment will only aggravate,. thf-irgnib, and -inbreas't'" their,; horror and -n/aa^jjrit, *{ in the day when . BRAJMTHi-E-