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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http: //books .google .com/I Ml'.k .b. V. V. H U N I - ^ ■-- ».'»■■ I ^ . \ I / . 1 SERMONS TRAlirSLATED FROM THE FRENCH o* THE LATE REV- JAMES SAURIN. VOL. IT. JBY ROBERT ROBIJ\rSOJ\r. \ SEBMONS TBANSIATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FBKNCH or THE LATE BEY. JAMES SAUBIN, FASTOm •? TBB F&XHGH OHURGH J^T THB BAaUB* // BY ROBERT ROBINSON. VOLUME IV. ON CHRISTIAN MORALITY. SBCOND AMERICAN FROM THE FIFTH LONDON EDITION.' SeBE^TECTJiDY ,• PURLISHED BT WILUAM J. M'CARTEE. 1813« 1 i L. r-i 'z. ■/ ^ . PUBLIC LIDi:.-. I v; R 1910 L PREFACE. JL HIS volume is a sketch of christian morality, such as the sermons of Mr. Saurin afford. Had the author drawn them up with a particular design of exhibiting a full view of the subject, he would have assorted and arranged ideas, which now lie dispersed and in- termixed. However, we trust the arrangement will appear neither improper nor unedifying. There are two general opinions among divines concerning the origin of morality and religion. Some suppose, that all the knowledge which the world ever had of these subjects, was at first revealed^ and hath been continued to this day by tradition. Others, on the contrary, think, that without revela- tion men may, and actually do, by the mere exercise of their natural powers, discover the being of a God, and the consequent obligations of men. Both classes, however, affirm, that revelation gives force to moral duties, and so is essential to the practice of real virtue. Hiis is not the place to enter into disputes ; we will content ourselves with a f^w plain remarks on the nature and obligations of men, and on the moral influence of the gospel ; and, for this' purpose, wc will divide the subject into three parts, and consider first nature ; secondly obligation ; aad lastly motive* ▼I PREFACE. 1. Nature, There is hardly a word in the English language of more vague and indeterminate meaning than the word nature. In this place I mean by it the native slate, properties, and peculiarities of men. If man be a creature consisting of soul and body ; if each hath properties, powers, or faculties, peculiar to itself, obligation to employ these to the ends for which they were intended by the Creator, must ne- cessarily follow. Ancient philosophy, therefore, connected together the natural with the moral state of man, and reasoned from the one to the other. Without superior information by revelation from God, there is no other way of determining whs^t men are, or are not expected to perform. It would be easy to lose ourselves in metaphysical speculations concerning the nature, the operations, and the duration of the soul ; and it would be as easy to lose ourselves, in attempting precisely to de- termine, among an infinite number of feelings, id^as, perceptions, aversions, sensations, and passions, where the last power of body ends, and where the first ope- ration of spirit begins. Perhaps we are to expect only a general knowledge of such subjects. That the happiness of both depends on a certain harmony between thought and action is beyond a doubt ; and that in a life made up of a course of thinking and acting, thinking ought to precede action, is equally clear. To act is to do something ; and every intel- ligent creature ought to do whatever he does for a reason. In the nature of man, then, avoiding all perplexing refinements, and confining our views to plain and usefv^ observation, there are three thinga EREFACX. VU condderaUe : happiiuss^ the end of men's actions ; actUmSj the means of obtaining the end ; and irasaa, which discovers, selects, and enforces rules of uniting the means with the end. 2. Obligation. We divide this article into two parts, obUgaUony and sense of obligation. We begin with the first By exercising our reason to find out proper means of obtaining happiness, we collect a set of ideas concerning tlie duties of life, and putting these together, we call the collection morality. As this collection consists of a great variety of duties, or actions proper to obtain happiness, we find it conve- nient to divide them into several classes, and as each class contributes its share towards the production of the general end, happiness, we consider the whole in the light of oUigatiofi; for every creature is obliged to seek its own happiness, and it is natural to man to do so. The condition of man in regard to the Supreme Being, his Creator, is that of absolute dependence ; and hence comes the first distribution of the duties of life into a class called natural theology ; theology, because God is the object of our contemplation, and natural theology, because the duties to be done in regard to God are such, and such only as are discov- erable by our observing and exercising our reason on the works of nature. By considering ourselves, we find a second class of ideas, which make up what is called moral philosophy i or more properly moral the^ ohgy; and in this we place the rules by which man conducts himself to befcome virtuous, in order to be- come happy* Extending our views a little further, tm PHEFACfi. and taking in proper ootions of the various situations in life, to which men are subject, and the various connections which we necessarily have in the world, we perceive a set of general principles just and use- ful, and all necessary to the happiness of these situ- ations and relations ; add hence comes a third branch of morality, called general poliej/y or common pru** dence. The next exertion of thinking and reasoning regards nations, and to this belongs a large class of ideas, all tending to public prosperity and felicity ; national policy is, therefore, a fourlh branch of mo- rality, and it includes all the actions necessary to govern a state, so as to produce civil order and so- cial happiness. To these, by extending our thoughts yet further, we proceed to add the law of nature, and the law of nations ; both which go to make up the general doctrine of manners, which we call morality. If a man aim at happiness, if he consult reason by what means to acquire it, if he be naturally impelled to perform such actions as are most likely to obtain that end, he will perceive that the reason of each duty is the obligation of it. As far, then, as man is governed by reason, so far doth he approve of the bond or obligation of performing the duties of life. Let us attend to sense of obligation. Should it appear on examination, and that it will appear on the slightest examination is too evident, that the senses of the body irritate the passions of the heart, and that both, conspiring together against the domin* ion of reason, become so powerful as to take the lead, reason will be perverted, the nature and fitnesi^ of things disordered, improprieties and calamities in- tirodilced, and ccmsequently, the great end, hdppin6s^ anhibSated. In this casie, the imttire of tbin|;9 would remain what it was, obligation to duties would con« tidue just the same, and there. would be no change, except in the order of actions, and in the loss of that end, happiness, which ord^r iVould bare produced* This speculation, if we advert to the real slate of things, will become a fact fully established in our judgments : True, the first brandh of morality is natural theology ; but have mankind in general, in all ages and cotintries, sought rational happiness in worshipping tbe One great Suprame ? Whence, theUi is idolatry/ and whence that neglect of the Father of universal natui^e, or whut is worse, that direct op* position to him ? Morality, we grant, hath always been, as it yet cdntinues to be^ beautifully depicted in academical theses -, professors of each branch of literature have successively contributed to colour and adorn the subject ; and yet, in real life, nei- ther tbe law of nature nor that of nations, lior that of private virtue, or public policy, hath been gen- erally obeyed ; but, on the contrary, by crimes of all descriptions, the whole earth hath been filled with violence^ Gen. vi. 11, 13. Als^ ! what is the life of each individual but a succession of mis- lakes and sins ? What the histories of families, nar tions, and great monarchies, but narrations of in- justice and woe? Morality, lovely goddess, was a painting of exquisite art placed in proper light In a public gallery for the inspection and entertainment of connoisseurs ; but she was cold, and her admirers unainmated : the obje^ that fired their passions had TOL. rv, 2 X PREFAQt. ttot her beauty, but they were alive. In one wiDrd, obligation to virtue is eternal and immutable ; but sense of obligation is lost by con. 3. MoTiTS. We will not enter here on that diflSr cult question, the origin of evil. We will not at* tempt to wade across that boundless ocean of diffi- culties, so full of shipwreck^. Evil is in the world, and the permission of it is certainly consistent with the attributes of God. Our inability to account for it is another thing, and the fact is not aiSected by it Experiment hath convinced us, that Revelation, along with a thousand other proofs of its divinity, brings the irrefragable evidence of motive to obe* dience ; a heavenly present, and every way suited to the condition of man ! It would be endless to enumerate the motives to obedience, which deck the scriptures as the stars adorn the sky : each bath been an object of consid*- erable magnitude to persons in some ages and situa- tions : but there is one of infinite magnificence, which eclipses all the rest, called the sun of righteousness ^ I mean, Jesus Christ. In him the meekness of Moses, and the patience of Job, the rectitude of the ten commandments, and the generosity of the gospel, are all united ; and him we will now consider a mo- ment in the light of motive to obedience. By considering the prophecies which preceded his advent, and by comparing his advent with those prophecies, we are impelled to allow the divinity of his mission. This is one motive, or one class of mo« tives to moral obedie;nce. By observing the mira^- efedf which he wrought, yit are obliged to exclaim f.W^- PREFACE. XL mih Nkodemus, No man can do what thou docsly ex* eept Ood he with him. This is a second class of mo* tives. By attending to his doctrines we obtain a third set of powerful and irresistible motives to obedience. His examfle affords a fourth, for his life 18 made up of a set of actions, all manifestly just and proper, each by its beauty commending itse^ to ev* ery serious spectator. This moral excellence, this conformity to Jesus Christ is the only authentic evidence of the tiiith of our faith, as the apostle Paul teaches us with the nU most clearness in the thirteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians. Faith and practice, in the christian religion, are inseparably connected ; for as there can be no true morality without faith in the doctrines of Christ, so there can be no true faith without christian morality ; and it is for this reason chiefly, that we should be diligent to distinguish the pure doctrines of revelation from human explica- tions, because a belief of the former produces a ho- ly conformity to the example of Christ; while an improi^er attachment to the latter leaves us where zeal for the traditions of the fathers left the Jews. We have treated of this at large in the preface to the third volume, and it is needless to enlarge here, Grace he mth all them that hie our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Amen^ y.- ■ • « r ' CONTENTS OF THE • ■ * FOURTH VOLUME. SERMON I. The Necessity of Universal Obedience^ Janes ii. 10. Page 17 SERMON II. The Great Duties of Religion. Matthew xxiiL 23. 47 SERMON III. The Smsdl Duties of Religion. Matthew xxiiL 23. 77 SERMON IV. The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked Revelation xxi. 7, 8. 99 ilrr coifTBRTt. SERM0I4 V. ' > God's Controversy with, Israel. MiCAH vi. 1, 2, 3. Page 133 SERMOf? VI. The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity. Pboterbs xit. 34. 173 SERMON VII. The Lives of Courtiers. 2 SxkusL lix. 32 — 39. 211 SERMON VIII. Christian Conversation. CoLossiAitii !r. 6. 247 •SERMON K. The Duty of Giving Alms. LuK£ xi« 41. 277 coKxnn. SERMON X CSiristiah Heroim. Protesbs xtL 32. P^319 SERMON XL Christian Casuistry. Proverbs iv. 26. 345 SERMON XII. The Necessity of Progressiye Religion. 1 CORIKTHIANS 1x. 26, 27. 373 SERMON XIIL The Moral Martyr. Psalm cxix. 4. 407 ALSO, An Essay on the Conduct of David at the Court of Achisb, king of Gatb« 1 Samuel xxi. 425 I, , , I • J' SERMON 1. The Necessity of Universal Obedience. James ii. lOi Whosoever shaU keep the whole law, and yet offend iA one point, he is guilty of o/Z* My Brethren, fV ERE I obliged to give a title to this epistle, from which I have taken my X^TLi, to distinguish it from the other books of our sacred canon, I would call it the paradoxes of St James. It should seem, the apostle had no other design in writing than that of surprizing his readers by linheard-of propositions. In the first chapter he subverts that notion of religion, which is generally received both in the world and the church. To adore the God of heaven and earth, to receive his revelation, to acknowledge his Messiah, to partake of his sacraments, to burn with zeal for his worship, this is usually called religion. No, says St. James, this is tiot religion ; at most this is only a small part of it : " Religion consists in visit- ing the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and in keeping himself unspotted from the world,'* ver. 27. In the second chapter he seems to take pains to efface the grand character of a christian, and of TOt. IT. 3 18 The Necessity of Universal Obedience. Christianity itself and to destroy this fundamental truth of the gospel, " that man is justified by faith without the deeds of the lawf" Rom. iii. 28. "No," says he, " man id not justified by faith only ; Abra- ham our father was justified by works," chap. ii. 24. 21. and all christians are justified by works. In an- other place, St. James seems to place all religion in some minute and comparatively inconsiderable arti- cles, or, what comes to much the same, to teach, that the omission of some comparatively small duty ren- ders the most pure and solid piety of no account. Levity of conversation is one of these articles. How different, my brethren ! is the morality of the scrip- tures from the momlity of the world! We often hear high encomiums of some people in company. Ob- serve that man, say they, what a pattern of piety is he ! The church doors are hardly opened before he rushes into his seat with eagerness and transport. In approaching the Lord's table he discovers by every look and gesture a heart all inflamed with divine love. When his shepherds were smitten, and the sheep scattered, the most difficult sacrifices became easy to him. Country, family, titles, riches, he left all with pleasure for the sake of following the bloody steps of Jesus Christ in his suffering. He can be re- proved for no more than one little inadvertence, that }s, he has a levity of conversation. But what says St. .James of this man, who seems to have a right of precedence in a catalogue of saints? What does he gay of this man, so diligent to attend public worship, so fervent at the Lord's supper, so zealous for reli- gion ? He says, tliis man has no religion at all ; "If 7%€ Neeessify ^ Uninerfd Qbediam. 19 any man among you seem to be religious, ^nd brif dleth not his tongue, this man's religion is vaiiv" chap. i. 26. 4 But without attending to all the paradoxes of St. James, let us attend to this in our text Here is a principle that seems more likely to produce despair in our hearts than to {nromote virtue ; 9 pripcipl^' which seems to aim at no les$ than the exclusion of the greatest saints on earth from heaven, and to oblige Moses, Elias, David, Paul, and otlier guch eminent men to exclaim, *' Who then can be saved !^ Matt xix. 25. This principle is, that to sin against one ar^ tide of the divine laws is to render one's self guilty of a breach of them all. Whosoever shall keep Ihc whole laWy and yet offend in one pointy he is guiUy of cdl. That you may the better enter into the spirit of our text, we have three sorts of reflections to propose to you. By the first we intend to fix the meaning of our apostle's proposition, and to clear it from aU obscurity. Our second class of reflections will b$ applied to enforce the sense that we sliall give the text. The last will characterise those sinners who live in this dreadful state, who, by habitually offend- ing in one point, render themselves guilty of an universal subversion of the whole law of God; an^ here we shall direct you how to use the text as 9 touchstone to discover the truth or falsehood of ypqr faith, the sincerity or hypocrisy of your obedience. I. Let us fix the sense of our apostle's propqsitioq^ and for this purpose let us answer two questions. 1. What kind of sin had St. James in view when 90- The' Necessity of Universal Obedience. he said^ Whosoever shall keep the whole laWy and yet offend in one point 1 2. How did he mean, that, by pfftxvding in one pointy the offender was guilty of vi- olating the whole law 1 The meaning of the first depends partly on what precedes the text. The apostle had been endeavour- ing to inspire christians with charity ; not with that pailial charity, which inclines us to pity and relieve the miseries of a few distressed neighbours, but with that universal love, which induces all the disciples of Christ to consider pne another as brethren, and which, because all are united to God, unites all to one another, and teacheth each to consider all as one pompact bod^, of which love is the bond: The apostle enters into this subject by this exhor- tation, Mjf brethren ! have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christy the Lord of glory y with respect of per- fonSy ch. ii, 1. These words are rather difficult : but one qf the following senses, I think, must be given to them. 1. Instead of translating, have not thefaith, we n^ay read, judge not of faith by appearance of per- sons ^ that is to say. Do not judge what faith chris- tians have in Jesus Christ, whom God hath elevated ^o ^he highest glory, by the rank, which they occu- py in pivil society, by their attendants, and equips age;> and habits. A man, who makes a very mean / and contemptible appearance, a man all in rags is ofr . ten a better christian than he, whose Christianity, (so to speak,) is all set off with splendour, and grandeur, Und fortune. Or rather, have not Jaith in the Lord oj glory by fffemjix a partial regard for the appearance qf persons; The Necessity cf Vniversdl Ohedienee. 21 that is to say, Do not imagine yourselves bdieverB, while you regard the appearance of persons. Do not imagine, that true faith is compatible with that meanness of soul, which makes people susceptible of very deep impressions of esteem at seeing a pa- rade of human grandeur ; do not suppose, that the soul of a good man must necessarily prostrate itself before pomp, and annihilate itself in the presence of great men ; while he turns with disdain from the poor, infinitely greater for their piety than others for their pomp. A ^christian believing in Jesus Christ glorified, a christian persuaded that Jesus, his head, is elevated to the highest degree of glory, and hoping that he shall be shortly exalted to some de- gree with him; a christian, in whose mind such ideas are formed, ought not to entertain very high notions of earthly things, he ought to esteem that in man, which constitutes his real greatness, that immortality, which is a part of his essence, those hopes of eternal glory, at which he aspires, those efforts, which he is making towards bearing the image of his Creator: such qualities deserve esteem, and not the empty ad- vantages of fortune. The apostle, having established this general max- im, applies it to a particular rase ; but there are some difficulties in his manner of stating the case, as well as in the maxim to which he applies it. ^ there come unto your assembly a man with a gold ringy in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment ; and ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him. Sit thou here in a ^ocfd plojce ; and say to the poor. Stand thou there, or ^ T7u NeeessUy of Universal ObecUenice. sit here under my footstool: Are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts? What assembly bad the apostle in view here ? Some Ihink he spoke of an assembly of judges, and by respect, or appearance of persons, a spirit of partiality. They say, these words of St. James are synonimous to those of God to Jewish judges by Moses. Thou shall not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person of the mighty : but in righteous- ness shall thou judge thy neighbour. Lev. xix. 15. Ye shall not respect persons in judgmeni: but ye shall hear the small as well as the great, Deut. i. 16, 17. They confirm this opinion by quoting a canon of the Jews, which enacts, that when two persons of unequal rank appear together in the Sanhedrim, one shall not be allowed to sit while the other stands ; but both shall either sit together, or stand together, to avoid every shadow of partiality. But, perhaps, our apostle spoke also of religious assemblies, and intended to inform primitive chris- tians, that where the distinciions of princes and sub- jects, magistrates and people, were not known, there the rich would affect state, aspire to chief places, and gratify their senseless vanity by placing the poor on their footstools, in order to make them feel their in- digence and meanness. However the apostle might mean, whether he spoke of juridical assemblies, or of religious conventions; of partial judgments, or of knproper distinctions in the church, it is plain, he in- tended to preclude that veneration, which, in little souls, riches obtain for their possessors, and that dis- The Netesii% of Universal OMimce. 23 dain which poverty eiccites in such minds for thosft t^hoai providence bath exposed to it. Among many reasons, by which he enforces his exhortation, that, which immediately precedes the text, is taken from charity, or benevolence. If ye fulfil the royal lawy according to the scripture, Thou shall love thy neighbour as thyself, ye do well But if ye have respect to persons, ye commit sin, and are » cottvineed of the law as transgressors. Then follow the words of the text, for whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offevid in one point, he is guilty of off- It should seem at first, from the connection of the text with the preceding verses, that when St. James i says, Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet of- fend m one point, he is guilty of all, he means, by this \ one point, benevolence. However, I cannot think j the meaning of St. James ought to be thus restrict- \ ed. I rather suppose that he took occasion from a particular subject to establish a general maxim, that \ includes all sins, which come under the same descrip- tion with that of which he was speaking. On this account after he has said, Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all, he adds, for he that said. Do not commit adultery, said also. Do not kill; he adds another example be- side that of which he had been speaking. Conse- quently, he intended not only to speak of violation of the precepts of love ; but also of all others, which had the same characters. But in what light does he place this violation of the precept of love ? He considers it as a sin eoair ! 24 Hie Necessity of Universal OheHmM. mitted with full consent, preceded by a judjpnent of the mind, accompanied with mature deliberation, and, to a certain degree, approved by him who com- mits it. All these ideas are contained in these words. Ye have respect to personSy ye are partial in yourselves^ ye are judges of evil thoughts, ye have despised the poor. "What the apostle aflSrms of love in particular, • he affirms of all sins committed with the same dispo- sitions. Every sin committed with full consent, pre- ceded by a judgment of the mind, accompanied with mature deliberation; every sin that conscience is made to approve during the commission of it; ev- ery such sin is included in this maxim of our apos- tle, whosoever shall keep the whole law^ and yet offemi in one point, he is guilty of all. In this manner divest the text of one vague no- tion, to which it may seem to have given occasion. We acquit the apostle of the charge of preaching a melancholy, cruel morality, and we aflfirm, for the comfort of weak and timorous minds, that we ought not to place among the sins here intended, either momentary faults, daily frailties, or involuntary pas- sions. 1. By daily frailties I mean those imperfections of piety, which are inseparable from the conditions of inhabitants of this world, which mix themselves with the virtues of the most eminent saints, and which, even in the highest exercises of the most fer- vid piety, make them feel that they are men, and that they are sinful men. By daily frailties I mean .wanderings in prayer, troublesome intrusions of sen- sible objects, low exercises of . self-love, and many The NeussUji of Vimersal Obedimce* 26 other infirmities, of which you, my dear brethren^, have bad' too many examples in your own lives in time past, and yet have too much experience in the tempers of your hearts every day* Infirmities of this kind do not answer the black description which St. James gives of the offence mentioned in the text. A good man, .who is subject to these frailties, far firom approving the sad necessity, that carries him ofif froio his duty, deplores it. In him they are not conclu- sions from principles, laid down with full consent ; Ihey are sad effe oi^ht to be considered as exercises of our viilue prescribe ed by our Creator; and not as criminal effecU of the obstinacy of the creature. The sins, into a conip mission of which they beguile us, ought always t9 humble us ; indeed they would involve us in eternal misery, were we not recovered by repentance after having fallen into them : but neither they, nor tran* sient ofTeoces, nor daily frailties ought to be reck* oned among those sins, of which St. James says, ki who qffendeth in one pointy is gtfUty (^ alL The sins of which the apostle speaks, are preceded by the judgment of the mind, accompanied with mature deliberation, and approved by coimcience. Thus we have divested the text of one vague meaning to which it may seem to have given occasion. 2B T%e Necessity ^ Universal Obedience. - But in what sense may it be affirmed of any sin, that he who offendeth in one point, is guilty of aU ? The nature of the subject must answer this second question, and enable us to reject the false senses, that are given to the proposition of our apostle. It is plain, St. James neither meant to establish an quality of sins, nor an equality of punishments. It is evident, that as sins are unequal among men, 80 justice requires an inequality of punishment. The tiian who adds murder to hatred, is certainly more guilty than he who restrains his hatred, and trembles «t a thought of inurder. He whose hatred knows no. bounds, - and who endeavours to assuage it with inurder, will certainly be punished more rigorously than the former. What then was the apostle'3 meaning ? He proba- bly had two views, a particular and a general view. The particular design might regard the theological system of some Jews, and the general design might regard the moral system of too inany christians. ' Some Jews, soon after the apostle's time, and very likely in his days,* affirmed, that God gave a great many precepts to men, not that he intended to oblige them . to the observance of all, but that they might have an opportunity of obtaining salvation by observ- ing any one of them ; and it was one of their max- Jms, that he who diligently kept one command, was thereby free(} from the necessity of observing the rest Agreeable to this notion, a famous Rabbif ex- pounds these words in Hosea, Take away aUiniquity^ * See Whitby on James ii. 2. t Kimdhi 90 Hg$. xiv. 3* Maty. The Nmssi^ Hif Umverial Obiiimee. 29 iwd givegood^ tbieit is, according to the false notion of our expositor, pardon our sins, and accept our Tseal for one precept of thy law. What is still more remarkable, when the Jews choose a precept, they usually choose one that gives the least check to their favorite passions, and one that is least essential to religion, as some ceremonial precept; This, per- haps, is what Jesus Christ reproves in the Pharisees and Scribes of his time. Wo unto you. Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ; jor ye pay tithe of mint, and afiisej and cummin, and have omitted the we^hUer mat- ters of the law, judgment, mercy, and fidth ; these might ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. Matt, xxiii. 23. Perhaps these words of our Saviour, may be parallel to those of St. James. The apos- tle had been recommending love, and at lenglh he tells the Jews, who, in the style of Jesus Christ, omitted mercy, that whosoever should keq) the whole law, and yet offend in this one point, would be guiUy of dl. But, as we observed just now, St. James did not intend to restrain what he said to love. If he had a particular view to the theological system of some Jews, he had also a general view to the morality of many christians. Whose ideas of devotion are too contracted. He infomis them, that a virtue incom- plete in its partsi cannot be a true virtue. He af- firms, that he who resolves in his own mind to sin, and who forces his conscience to approve vice while he commits it, cannot in this maimer violate one sin- gle article of the law without enervating the whole of it. A man cannot be truly chaste without being 30 The NtmsHy of Universal Obedtenoe.^ / iiumble, . n^r can he be truly humble without being / chaste. For the same reason no man can deliberate- ]y violate the law that forbids anger, without viola-* ting that which forbids avarice ; nor can any man vi- olate the law whidi forbids extortion, without violas- ting that which forbids impurity. All virtues are naturally united together, and mutually support one another. The establishment of one unjust maxim authorizeth all unjust maxims. This is the meaning of the proposition in our text, Whosoever qffendeth m one point, is guiUy of all. Hitherto we have only explained tl)e sense of our text, it now remains to be proved. The proposition of our apostle is founded on three principal reasons. He, who sins in the manner just now described ; he, whose mind resolves to sin, and who forces his con- science to approve vice, while he commits it, sins against all the precepts of the law, while he seems to sin against only one. 1. Because he subverts, as far as he can, the foundation of the law. 2. Because, although he may not actually violate all the articled of the law, yet he violates them virtually, I mean to say, his principles lead to an actual violation of all the precepts of the law. 3. Because we may pre- sume, he, who violates the law virtually, will actual^ ly violate it, when it suits him to do so. These three rieasons establish the truth of our apostle's proposi- tion, and justify the sense, that we have given it. The discussion of these three reasons will be the sec- ond part of our discourse. II. He who violates one precept of the law in jjie manner just now described, violates all ; because, ne Necessity of Universal Oiedienee. 31 final, he subverts^ as for as in him lies, tiie very foun- dation of the law. This will clearly appear by a comparison of vice with error, heresy with disobe- dience. There are two sorts of errors and heresies ; there are some errors which do not subvert the foun^ dation of faith, and there are other errors that dp sub- Vert it. If, after I hare honestly and diligently endeav- oured to imderstand a passage of scripture proceed- mg from the mouth of God, I give it a sense difier- ent from that which is the true meaning of it ; if I give it this sense, not because I dispute the authori- ty of an infallible God, but because I cannot per- ceive that it ought to be taken in any other sense than that in which I understand it, I am indeed in an error, but by falling into this error I do not subvert the foundation on which my faith is built. I always suppose the authority and infallibility of God, and I am ready to renounce my error as soon as I am convinced that it is contrary to divine revelation. But if, after it has been made to appear with irre- fragable evidence, that my error is contrary to di?ine revelation, and if, moreover, after it has been made to appear that revelation came from God, I persist ki my error, then, by sinning ag;iiinst mie poiiU I be- come guilty of aUy because, by denying one single proposition of revelation, I deny that foundation on which all other propositions of revelation are builtt that is, the infallibility and veracity of that God who speaks in our scriptures. I put in the place of God my reason, my wisdom, my tutor^ my minister, whom- ever or whatever determines me to prefer ray error 32 The Neeeisity (f Universal Obediemk. l^fore that truth, which I am- convinced is clearly revealed in a book that came from heaven. In like manner there are two sorts of vices, some which do not subvert the foundation of our obedir ence to the laws of God, and others that do. In the first class are those siqs which we have enumerated, daily infirmities, transient faults, and involuntary passion^. In the second class ought to be placed those sins of deliberation and reflection, of which we just now spoke, and which our apostle had in view. These sins strike at the foundation of our obedience to the laws. of God. What is the ground of our obedience to the di- vine laws ?' When God gives us laws, he may be con- sidered under either of three relations, or under all the three together; as a sovereign, as a legislator, as a father. Our obedience to God, considered as a sovereign, is founded on his infinite authority over us, and on our obligation to an entire and unreserv- ed submission to him. Our obedience to God as a legislator is founded on bis perfect equity. Our obedience to God as a Father is founded on the cer- tain advantages which they who obey his laws derive from them, and on a clear evidence that because he ordains them, they must be essential to our happi- ness. Now he who sins coolly and deliberately against one single article, saps these three founda- tions of the law, He is, therefore, guilty of a vio- lation of the whole law. He saps the foundation of that obedience which is due to God considered as a master, if he imagine,, he may make any reserve in his obedience ; if he . Jhe Kecesiify ff Vniversid ObeHenee^ .33 gay, I will submit to God^ if he command me to be \ humble, but not if he command me to be chaste ; and so on. He saps the foundation of that obe- dience which is due to God considered as law giver, if he imagine God is just in giving such and such a law, but not in prescribing such and such other laws ; if he suppose God is just when he appoints him to educate and provide for an only son, but that he ceaseth to do right when he commands him to sacri- fice him, addressing him in this terrifying style, Takfi now thy^sson, and offer him for a burnt offering tjqHm one tf ike mountains which I wiU tell thee of. Gen. xxii. 2. He. subverts the foundation of obedience to God as a father, if he suppose that God hath our happiness in view in requiring us to renounce some passions, but that he goes contrary to our interests by requiring us to sacrifice some other passions* which he may suppose can never be sacrificed with- out sacrificing at the same time his pleasure and feli- city. He who sins in this manner, attributes to the ob- ' jects which induce him to sin, excellences that can be in none but the Creator. He says. It is not God who is my master, my sovereign : It is the world, it is my company, it is my custom. He says. It is not God who is just: Justice is the property of my pas^ sions, my anger, my vengeance. He says. It is not God who is the source of my true happiness: it is my gold, my silver, my palace, my equipage, my Dalilah, my Drusilla. To offend in one point in this sense is to be guiUy of all; because it subverts the foundation on which our obedience is built. And TOls. IV. 5 34 l%e NeeessUy rf Vniversdl Obedience. this reason is emphatically assigned by St. James in the verses that follow the text, Whosoever shall keep ffte ffvhok VoaVj and yet offend in one pointy he is guithf ofaUy for, adds the apostle, He that saidy Do nM €ommii aduttery, smd also. Do not kiB. Now if thou eommit no adtdtetyj yet if Uwu killj thou art become a Iransgrtssor cf the law. 2. This man who ofiends in the manner that we have described^ he who in his mind resolves to sin, and endeavours to force his conscience to approve vice 'wbile he commits it, breaks all the precepts pf the law, because, whether he do actually break them or not, he breaks them virtually, and intentionally. He violates precepts of generosity, but he does not fall into de- bauchery* Why ? Is it because he respects the divine laws which prohibit debauchery ? No, but because, not being alike inclined to both these vices, he en- joys less pleasure in excess than in avarice. Could be find as much pleasure in violating the laws that prohibit excess, as he finds in violating those which forbid avarice, then, the same principle that impels him now to an incessant, immoderate love of gain, would impel him to drown his reason in wine, and to plunge himsdf into all excesses. By violating, then, laws commanding generosity, he violates, if not actually, yet virtually, laws prohibiting debauch- ery. What keeps him from violating the laws that forbid damour and dissipation, is not respect for that God who commands recollection, retreat, and silence : b!>t he affetts these, because he has less aversion to retirement and silence, than he has to noise, clamour, tad dissipation. H ad he as much dislike of the firat. # The Nuissiijf ^ Umversai (AeHmee. 35 ad he has of the last, then the same principle that now induces faim to he always alone, always either inae* cessible or morose, would induce him to be always abroad, always avoiding a sight of himself by flee- ing from company to company, from one dissipation to another. As, therefore, he does not obey the law that enjoins silence by his perpetual solitude, so he virtually annihilates the law that forbids dissipa*^ lion ; and here again to offend in me paint is to be guilty of all. \ In fine, he who offends in the manner that we have explained, he whose mind determines to ^in, and who endeavours to force his conscience to approve his practice, sins against all the precepts of the law, while be seems to offend only in one point, because there is sufficient reason to believe, he will some time or other actually break those laws, which now be breaks only intentionally* Here, my brethren, I wish each of you would recollect the mortifying history of his own life, and reflect seriously on those passions which successively took place in you, and which by turns exercise their terrible dominion over all them who are not entirely devoted to universal obedience. What proceeds only from a change of circumstan- ces, we readily take for a reformation of manners ; and we often fancy we have made a great progress in holiness, when we have renounced one vice, al- though we have only laid aside this one to make room for another that seemed opposite to it, but which was a natural consequence of the first. What ele- vates ybu to-day into excesses of ungovemed joy^ is your excessive love of pleasure. Now, it is nat^ t 36 The NicessUy ef Universal Obedience. vral to suppose this excessive love of pleasure which elevates you into immoderate joy now that the ob- jects of your pleasure are within your reach, will plunge you into depths of melancholy and despair, when you are deprived of those objects. That which induces you to-day to slumber in carnal security, is your inability to resist the first impressions of certain objects ; but, if you know not how to resist to-day the impressions of such objects as lull you into secu< rity, you will not know how to resist to-morrow the impressions of other objects which will drive you to de^air ; and hso this very principle of non-resistance, if I may so call it, which makes you quiet to-day, will make you desperate to-morrow. There is no greater security for our not falling into one vice, than our actual abstinence from another vice. There is no better evidence that we shall not practise the sins of old men, than our not committing the sins of youth. Prodigality is the vice of youth, and not to be profuse in youth is the best security that we shall not in declining life fall into avarice, the vice of old age. May one principle animate all your actions, a principle of obedience' to the laws of God! then what keeps you from haughtiness, will preserve you from meanness ; what saves you from the se- duction of pleasure, will preserve you from sink- ing under pain ; what keeps you from inordinate love to an only son, while it pleased God to spare him, will keep you from immoderate disquietude, when God thinks proper to take him away. But a man, who deliberately offends in one point, not only offends intentionally against all the articles of the law : but. * The Necessity oj Universe^ Obedience. 37 it is highly probable, he will actually violate all ar- ticles one after another; because, when universal esteem for all the laws 'of God is not laid down as the grand principle of religious action, the passions ^re not corrected, they are only deranged, one put in the place of another ; and nothing more is neces- sary to complete actual, universal wickedness, than a change of vices with a change of circumstances. All this is yet too vague. We have, indeed, en^ de'avoured to explain, and to prove the proposition of our apostle ; but unless we enter into a more mi- nute detail, we shall derive very little advantage jfrom this discourse. Those of oiir auditors who have most reason to number themselves with such as sin deliberately, will put themselves in the opposite class. The most abandoned sinners will call their own crimes either daily frailties, or transient faulls, or involuntary passions. We must, if it be possible take away this pretext of depravity, and character- ise those sins which we have named sins of reflection , deliberatioUy and approbation; sins which place him who commits them precisely in the state intended by our apostle ; he offends in one point, and his disposi- tion to do so renders him guilty of total and univer- sal disobedience. This is our third part, and the conclusion of this discourse. III. St. James pronounces in our text a sentence of condemnation against three sorts of sinners. L Against such as are engaged in a way of life sinful . of itself. 2. Against such as cherish a favorite pas- sion. 3. Against persons of unteachable disposi- tions. m 38 The Necessity of Universal Ohe^enee. 1. They who are engaged in a way of life siftftd of itself, are guilty of a violation of the whole law, while they seem to offend only in one point. We every day hear merchants and traders ingenh uously confess^ that their business cannot succeed unless they defraud the government. We will not examine whether their assertion be true; we will suppose it to be as they say ; and we affirm, that a trade which necessarily obliges a man to violate a law so express as that of paying tribute to govern- nient> is bad of itself That disposition of mind which induces a man to follow it, ought not to be ranked either with those human frailties, transient faults, or involuntary passions, which we have enu- merated, and for which evangelical abatements are reserved. This is a blow struck at legislative author* ity. What, then, ought a merchant to do, who is engaged in a commerce which necessarily obligeth him to violate a law of the state concerning impost? He ought to give up this commerce, and to quit a way of living which he knows is iniquitous in itself. If he cannot prevail with himself to make this sacri* tice, all his hopes of being saved are fallacious. We every day hear military men affirm, that it is impossible to wear a sword with honour, without professing to be always disposed to revenge, and to violate all laws hiiman and divine which forbid duel- ling. We do not inquire the truth of the assertion, we suppose it true. We do not examine, whether prudence could not in all^^ses suggest proper nleans to free men from a tyrannical point of honour; or whether there really be any cases, in which gentle- .•^ Hu Necessi^ ^ Vmversal ObeHmot. 39 men are indispensibly obliged, either to quit the ar- my, or to violate the precepts that command us to ^ive up a ^irit of resentment. We only affirm, that a military man, who constantly and deliberately harbors a design of always avenging himself in cer- tain cases is in this miserable list of sinners, who, by offending in one point, are guilty of all. We do not affirm, that he would be in this guilty condition, if he could not promise to resist a disposition to re- venge in every future moment of his life ; we only affirm that he is guDty of a violation of the whole law, if he do not sincerely and uprightly resolve to resist this inclinntion. You cannot be a christian without having a fixed resolution to seal the truths of the gospel with your blood, if it please providence to call you to martyrdom. ••You cannot, however, promise, that the sight of racks and stakes shall never shake your resolution, nor ever induce you to violate your sin- cere determination to die for religion, if it should please providence to expose you to death on account of it. It is sufficient for the tranquility of your con- science, that you have formed a resolution to suffer rather than deny the faith. In like manner, we do not affirm, that a military man is guilty of the offence with which we have charged him, if he cannot en- gage never to be carried away with an excess of pas- sion inclining him to revenge ; we only say, if he coolly determine always to avenge himself in certain cases, he directly attacks the authority of the law- giver. He offmdtth in one point, and he is guilty of all. If a man cannot profess to bear arms without har- bouring a fixed intention of violating all laws human 40 The Necessity of Universal Obedience. and divine, that prohibit duelling, even to those who receive the most cruel af&onts, either the profession of arms or the hope of salvation must be given up. No man in the army can assure himself that he is in a state of grace, unless his conscience attests, that he will avoid, with all po^ible circumspection, every case in which a tyrannical point of honour renders revenge necessary ; and that, if ever he bq, in spite of all his precautions, in such a case, when he must either resign his military employments, or violate the laws that forbid revenge, he will obey the law, and resign his military honours. It is too often seen, that our relation to some of- fenders inspires us with indulgence for their ofiences. This kind of temptation is never more difficult to siurmount than when we are called to bear a faithful testimony concerning the state of our brethren, who refuse to sacrifice their fortune and their country to religion and a good conscience. But what relation is so near as to pre-occupy our minds to such a de- gree as to prevent our considering the life of such a person, as it really is, bad in itself ; or what pretext can be plausible enough to authorise it? We have sounded in their ears a thousand times these thunder- ing words of the Son of God, Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words y of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glo- ry^ and in his Father's, and of the holy angels, Luke ix. 26. He that loveth father or mother, son or davgh- tcr^ and, we may add, he that loveth houses or lands, . ease, riches, or honours, more than me, is not worthy of me, Mattb. x. 37.. We have summoned them by The JNeeesHfy of Universal Obidiemk. 41 the sacred promises and solemn engagements, which some of.ihem have entered into at the table of the Lord^ while they partook of the significant symbols of the body and blood of the Saviom*) to devote themselves to the glory of God, and the edification of his church. We have unveiled their hearts, and shewn them how the artfulness of their ingenious passions exculpated their conduct, by putting spe- cious pretexts in the place of solid reasons. We have reproved them for pretending, that they dare not face the danger of attempting to flee, when the government forbade their quitting the kingdom ; and now liberty is granted, for making that a reason for staying. We have described the numerous ad- vantages of public worship; we have proved, that the preaching of the gospel is, if I may speak so, the food of Christian virtues; and that, when people have accustomed themselves to live without the pub- lic exercises of religion, they insensibly lose that delicacy of conscience, without which they cannot either be good christians, or, what are called in the world, men of honour and probity; we have de- monstrated this assertion by an unexceptionable ar- gument taken from experience ; we have said. Ob- serve that man, who was formerly so very scrupu- lous of retaining the properly of his neighbour; see, be retains it now without any scruple : observe tho^ parents, who were formerly so tender of their chil- dren;, see now with what inhumanity they leave them to struggle with want We have represented to them, that to reside where the spirit of persecu- tion is only smothered, not extinguished, is to betray VOL. IV. 6 42 3%e Necessity of Universal Obedience. religion, by exposing the friends of it to the hazard of being martyredy without having any assurance of being possessed with a spkit of martyrdom ; and we have endeavoured to convince them, that he who flalters himself he shall be able to undergo martyr* dom, and lives where he is liable to it, while provi^ dence opens a way of escape, is presumptuous in the highest degree, and exposeth himself to such misery as the son of Sirach denounces, when he says, He that hveth datiger shaU perish therein^ Ecclus. iii. 26* Not having been able to move them by motives ta- ken from their own interest, we have tried to affect them with the interest of their children. We have told them> that their posterity will live without any religion, that they will have too much knowledge to adhere to superstition, and too little to profess the true religion ^ and this sad prophecy has been alrea* dy verified in their families. To all these demonstra- tions they are insensible; they wilfully shut their eyes against the light ; they guard themselves against the force of these exhortations; they are foiling new fetters for themselves, which will confine them to a place, of which God has said, Ccme out of hef^ my peopk ! that ye be not partakers of her sinSy and that ye receive not of her plagues ^ Rev. xviii. 4. They btiildi they plant, they marry, they give in mar- riage, and thus they have abused the patience of thirty-five years, in which they have been invited to repent. I ask again, what relation can be so near as to prevail with us to put this kind of life among the frailties, for which evangelical abatements are re- served. I%e Nieessiif^ Universal Obediaue. 48 Let us all, as far as providential circumstances will allow, follow a profession compatible with our duty. Let us do more, let us endeavour so to arrange our affairs that our professions may stimulate ui to obe- dience, and that every thing around us may direct our attention to God. Alas ! in spite of all our pre- cautions, sin will too often carry us away ; we shall too often foif^et our Creator, how loud soever eve- ry voice around us proclaims his beneficence to us, and his excellences in himself. But bow great will our defection be, if our natural inclinations be slrengtln- ened by the engagements of our condition ! A kind of life wicked of itself is the first sort of sin of which my text says. Whosoever offendeth in one point is guilty of oM. 2. In the same class we put sinners, who cherish a darkfig passion. Few hearts are so depraved as to be inclined to all excesses. Few souls are so insen- sible to the grand interest of their salvation, as to be unwilling to do any thing toward obtaining salva* tion. But, at the same time, where is the heart so renewed as to have no evil disposition ? And how ■few christians are there, who love their salvation so as to sacrifice all to the obtaining of it ? The offen- der, of whom we speak, pretends to compound with bis lawgiver. Is he inclined to avarice? he- will say. Lord ! allow me to gratify my love of money, and I am ready to give up my disposition to revenge. Is he inclined to revenge ? Lord ! allow me to be vindictive, and I Will sacrifice my avarice. Is he dis- posed to voluptuousness ? Lord ! safier me to retain my Drusilia, and my Delilah, and my vengeance, msey 44 T%e Necessity if Universal O&ecKen^. ambition, my avarice, and every thing else, I will sa- crifice to thee. A favourite passion is inconsistent with the chief virtue of Christianity, with that, which is the life and soul of all others, I mean that love of God, which places God supreme in the heart A jealous God will accept of none of our homage, while we refuse him that of our chief love. All the sacrifir ces that we can offer him to purchase a right to re- tain a darling sin, are proofs of the empire which that sin hath over us, and of our fixed resolution to free ourselves from the law of him, who would- be, as he ought to be, the supreme object of our love. Do not fancy, that what we have said con- cerning involuntary passions is applicable to dar- ling sin, and exculpates a favourite passion. One man, whose involuntary passions sometimes hurry him away, detests his own.disposition ; but the other cherishes his. One makes many an arduous attempt to correct his error: the other engages to do so; but he mak^s promises pass for performances, and means to get rid of the last by professing the first. One considers the grace that tears tlie deplorable passion from his heart as a most desirable benefit ; and even, while he falls into his sin, he considers it as the greatest misfortune of his life; the other regards him as a mortal enemy who endeavours to prevail with t}im to renounce a passion, in the gratification of which aU his happiness depends. Let us lay down the love of God as a foundation of all virtue. Let us love' him chiefly, who is su- J)rewely Iwely. Let our b^^Ms adopt the language Tht NeussUgyf Universal ObeHmee. 4fi of the psalmist. Access to Ood is my supreme good. Whom have I in heaven but theCy and there is none up- on the earth that I desire besides thee^ Psal. IxxiiL 28, 25. Let us €X)nsider and ayoid, as acts of idolatry, all imrnoderately lively and affectionate emotions of love to creatures. Let us entertain only a small de- gree of attachment to objects, which at most can procure us only a momentary felicity. A favourite passion is a second disposition of mind, that renders us guilty of a violation of the whole law, even wbUe we seem to violate it only in an inconsiderable part. 3. Finally, Intractable minds are condemned in our text. Docility is a touchstone, by which a doubtful piety may be known to be real or apparent. The royal prophet describes in the fiftieth psalm such a rigid observer of the exterior of religion as we speak of; a nian who has the name of God always in his mouth, and is ever talking of the holiness of his laws; a man always ready to offer whole hecatombs in sacrifice ; but who has not patience to hear a re- presentation of his duty, and an exhortation to per- form it. The psalmist declares, all this appearance of devotion, if unaccompanied with docility, is use- less, yea, more likely to arouse the anger of God than to obtain his favour. Thou wicked wretch ! says he, in the name of God, to this phantom of piety, who imposes on the chtirch by his outward appear- ance, and who, perhaps, imposeth on himself; Thou nicked man^ what hast thou to do to declare my statutes^ or that thou slwuMest take my covenant in thy mouthy seeing* thou hatest instruction ? ver. 16< He author 46 Hie Necessity of Umversal Obedienee. isetfa us to use the same language to some of you. Why this assiduity at church, why this zeal on so- lemn festivals, why this fervour at the Lord's table, seeing you are unteachable ; seeing you love none but vague maxims of virtue and holiness ; seeing you will not allow your casuist to enter into some details ; seeing every man loses your favour, if he hints your foibles ; seeing your tenderest and most faithful friend would become suspected directly, yea, would seem an impertinent censor, the moment be should discover your faults, and endeavor to make you acknowledge and reform them ? My brethren, if we love virtue, we love all the means that lead to it, and with peculiar pleasure be^ bold them who recommend it Nothing is more op- posite to that general devotedness to the laws of God which my text prescribes, than a spirit inimical against them who have the courage to conlroul the passions. " He that turneth away his ear from hear- ing the law, .even Ms prayer shall be abomina- tion/* Prov. xxviii* 9* " Whoso loveth instruction lOveth knowledge," chap. xii. 1. "The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death,*' chap. xiii. 14. " Let the righteous smite me, it shall be a kindness; and let him reprove me, it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break niy head,'* Psal. cxli. 5. May God always continue a succession of such righteous men, and may he in- cline our hearts to profit by their instructions ! To him be honour and glory for ever. Amen. 8ERM0N n. Hie Great Duties of JReligion. Matthew xxiii. 23. Woe unto you. Scribes and Pharisees^ hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of minty and anises and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith : these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. W E frequently meet with a sort of people in the world, who some of them neglect the chief virtuei of religion, and supply the want of them by per- fonning the least articles of it ; and others, who per- form the chief duties, and neglect the least. Observe one man, who cherishes a spirit of bitterness, and 18 all swelled with pride, envy, and revenge ; by what art hath he acquired a reputation of eminent piety ? By grave looks, by an affected simplicity of dress, by an assiduity in the exercises of public worship. See another, who is all immersed in wordly affairs, whose life is all consumed in pleasure, who neglects, and who affects to neglect, both public worship and private devotion. Ask him 1k)w he expects toes- cape in a well-regulated society that just censure which irregular actions, and a way of living incon* sistent with Christianity, deserve. He will tell you 48 Great Duties of Seligum. I am a man of honour, I pay my debts, I am faithful to my engagements, I never break my word. We are going to-day, my brethren, to attack both classess of this inconsistent sort of people ; and to pro^e, that the practice of small virtues cannot sup- ply the want of the chief; and that the performance of the chief virtues cannot make up for the omission of the least. Tliese points are determined by Jesus Christ in the text. On the one hand, he denounces a woe against the Scribes and Pharisees, who scru- pulously extended their obedience to the Mosaical law of tithes to the utmost limits, while they viola- ted the more indispensible precepts of morality. On the other hand, he does not intend to divert the attention of his disciples from the least duties by en- forcing the greatest, l^hese aught ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. As if he had said. Your principal attention, indeed, should be direct* cd to equity of judgment, to charitable distribution of property, and to sincerity of conversation ; but, beside an attention to these, you should diligently discharge the less considerable duty of tithing, and other such obligations. These are two propositions which I will endeavour to explain and establish. They will afford matter for two discourses ; the first on the chief virtues, and the last on the least, or, more strictly speaking, the less considerable. . Some preliminary remarks, however, are absolutely neces- sary for our understanding the text. ]. Ttie word that should determine the sense, is equivocal in the original, and signifies sometimes to exact tithes, and at other times to pay them. It is Onai DMes ^ ReKgum. 49 Uied in tbe Snt sense in Hebrews, The sons (f Ltd, have a eommandmmt to take UAes of the peopk ; and a little after, he whose deseeniis not counted from them^ recekxs lUhss vf Abraham^ chap. vii. 5, 6. But, in the gospel of St Luke, the word wUch we have elsewh^ie rendered to receire tithes, signifies to pay them, Ig^ UAes, saith the Pharisee, of aU that I possess^ chap. xriiL 12. The ambiguity of this term hath produced various opinions concerning the meaning of our text. The most laborious, and the most learned of the ancient expositors, I mean St Jerom, is said to have taken the term in the first sense. According to this hy« pothesis, Jesus Christ paints the Pharisees here in colours, which have almost always too well suited the persons to whom governments have intrusted the business of tax-fathering. Inhumanity has almost always been their character. Ye tithe mint, anise, and cummin, and ye omit judgment, mercy, and faUh* As if he had said, You tithe inconsiderable herb^ and you do not reflect, that it is incompatible with principles both of equity and meicy to tithe tncon* siderafale articles, from which the proprietors derive liUle or no advantage. It is not right, that these things should be subject to such imposts as govern* ments charge on articles of great consequence. We embrace the sense of our translators, and take the word to signify here/?^ tithes. This sense best agrees with the whole text Te pay Uthcs (f mint, anise, and cuikmin^ and have omitted the weighHermat* iers (f the law. These ought ye to haii>e done, and w4 to leave the other u/fSkni. It agrees better a)[so witk voii. IV, 7 50 Oreat Dutits of BiMgUm. / the following words,. Ye strain at agnate and swalknv ' \ a camel This is a proverbial way of speaking, .de- scriptive of that disposition of mind, which inclines men to perform inconsiderable duties with a most scrupulous exactness, and, to violate without any scruple the most essential articles of religion. The hypocrisy of the Pharisees would have been less re- markable in an inhumane exaction of tithes, than in a parade of paying theni With a rigid nicety. Ac- cordingly, it is a Pharisee who speaks the words just now cited from St. Luke, and who reckons scrupu- losity among his virtues. Godj I thank thee, that I am not as other men are. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of aU that I possess, that is to say, I pay tithes of those things, which seem to be too incon- siderable to be tithed. 2. Our second remark regards the law of tithes. Tithes were dues payable to God, and they consist- ed of the tenth of the produce of whatever was tithe- able. The Jews pretended, that the example of Abraham, who paid to God, in the person of Mel- cfaisedeek, bis minister, a tenth of the spoils which he took from the confederate kings of the plain, ought to have the force of a law with all his descend^ ents. To this mysterious circumstance they refer the origin of titbeii. Natural religion seems to have inculcated among the pagans the necessity of pay- ing this^ "^kind of iiomage to Gpd. We meet with examples among the heathens for time immemorial. With them tithes were considered as a sacred tax. Hence Pisistratus, a tyrant of Athens, said to th# Attienians, in order to obtain their consent to sub* Ohreat IhUes etween the more and the less important duties of religion. - But this, which is inconfestible in one point of view, is not defensible in another. There are some things in the law more important than others ; be- cause, though they all proceed from the same tri- bunal, yet the majesty of God, the lawgiver, was displayed in a more express and solemn manner in ordaining some than others, so that he who violates the first kind of virtues, attacks this majesty in a more direct manner than he who is guilty of viola- ting only the last. The difficulty lies in exactly determining the rules by which these two classes of virtues are to be dis- tinguished. The time allotted for a sermon renders such a discussion impracticable. It is, if I may so speak, essential to all sermons preached in this pulpit, that they be discussed superficially. We must ac? OredU JhUies of RdigUm. 55 commodate ourselves to custom, and briefly sketch out the present subject In order to ascertain what virtues ought to be. ar- ranged among the most ' important, and what among the least, five things must be distinguished. 1. The or^in of a virtue. 2. The duration of it. 3.. Its object. 4. Its influence. . 5. Its destination. From these distinctions arise fivB rules. The first rule regards the: or^n of a virtue. A virtue arising immediately firom primitive law, is more important than others, an obligation to which arises from, some pa:rticular circumstances ; and those which are imniediate consequences of this law, are more important than others, which are remotely con- sequential. - The second regards the duraiion of a virtue. A virtue that runs on to eternity, is more . important than- another, which belongs only to the economy of time. The third rule regards the olject of a virtue. A virtue, that hath a great object, is more important than another which hath an inconsiderable object. The fourth rule is taken from the influence of a virtue. -A virtue connected with other virtues, and moving along with itself a great many others, is more important than another virtue which operates inde- pendently and alone. The fifth rule regards the end of a virtue. A vir- tue that constitutes the end to which all religion con- ducts us, is more important than other virtues, which fit most only promote the means that lead to the end. 56 - Greai Dutus tf ReKgUm. We sfaall briefly explain th^se five rules, ai»l shall leave them to your mature deliberation. The jBk^ rule is taken from the origin of a virtue. One virtue originating immediately in primitive law 18 more important than another, an obligation to per* form vi^hich is founded only on some particular cir* cumstances ; and such virtues as are immediate con* sequences of this law, are more important than oth* ers that are only remotely consequential. Primitive law is that class of maxims which derive their authority, not from revealed law only, but from Uie eternal truths on which they are founded, and from the nature of the intelligent beings to whom they are prescribed. Such are these : A created in* telligence has no right to assume a freedom from the laws of his Creator : The Being who possesseth su* preme perfection, is alone worthy of supreme adora* tion : Whatsoever ye would that men should do tot/ou, do ye even so to them. Matt. vii. 12: Talents with which I am intrusted by another, ought not to be employed to gratify my particular caprice ; but they ought to be so used as to enable me to give a good account of them to him who intrusted me with them, and-directed the use of them. Multiply and enlarge these maxims, brethren ; I only give you a clue. Virtues of this kind are far more important than oth* ers, an obligation to which is founded only on par^ ticular circumstances. Virtues of this last kind oblige only as consequences of the primitive law, of which I just now spoke; and they oblige more or less, as the consequences are more or less remote. To address consolatory conversation to a sufferer Great JDtUies of Religion. SI obliges only as a consequence of this primitive vir- tue. Whatsoever ye would that men should do to yoUf do ye evefi so to them. To cooifort an afflicted man by conversing with bim> is a consequence more re^^ mote from this primitive virtue than to remove his affliction by supplying his wants. Accordingly, the virtues of this consequential kind cease to oblige, when the circumstances that found the obligation cease* Hence, it sometimes happens, these duties annihilate one another. We must often omit some to discbarge others. We must defer, or wholly omit consolatory conversation, in order to procure and administer real supplies. We must omit relieving a stranger, in order to fly to relieve a fellow-citizen. We must cease to relieve one to whom we are rela- ted only as a fellow- citizen, in order to attend to the relief of another, who is a member with us of the household of faithy Gal. vi. 10. and so on. 2. Virtues anterior to particular circumstances subsist after those circumstances; and my second maxim is only the first in a different point of view. A virtue perpetuated to eternity is more important than another which is confined within the limits of time. Now, the virtues that go on to elernity, are the same which oblige prior to all the particular cir- cumstances of time. The two rules therefore unite; it is one proposed in divers views. Hear how St. Paul reasons to prove that charity is more excellent than all the miraculous gifts which God bestowed on the primitive christians. He enu- merates these gifts : God hath set in the churchy first apostleSy secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, qfler VOL. ir. 8 58 Great Duties of Rdigiaii, that miracles^ then gifts of healings^ helps, goveiitr merits, diversities of tongues, 1 Cor. xii. 28. But, adds be, covet earnestly the best gifts : and yet 1 shew unto you a more excellent way, ver. 31. Then follows his encomium upon Charity^ Charity, or love, never faUeth: hut whether there he prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there he tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away, 1 Cor. xiii. 8. Moreover, he places charity not only above all mir- aculous gifts : but he sets it above all other vii'tues. And now abidelh faith, hope, charity, these three : but the greatest of these is charity, ver. 1 3. My brethren, what St. Paul said of miraculous gifts, and of some virtues, that they Jail in compari- son with charity, an obligation to which continues for ever, we say of a thousand particular practices, to which, indeed, you are obliged, but which are not to be compared with other great virtues, of the excellence of which we have been speaking, and which are weightier matters of the law. All these particular circumstances will cease in another life : but these great virtues; to which we would persuade you to give the preference, will never cease. In heaven we can erect no hospitals, visit no sick peo- ple, wipe off no slander: but we shall be happily united by ties the most agreeable, the most close, and the most indissoluble. In heaven we shall love one another with sentiments the most sincere, the most lively, the most tender ; because we shall par- ticipate the same God, propose to ourselves the same end, and be for ever in the highest bliss. In heaven we ghalj have no temple: we shall eternally enjoy Great Ihaies c/* JReligian. S9 the presence of God. In heaven we shall not take hold of each other's skirtSy Zech. viii. 23. according to the expression of a prophet, sajing, Come, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lard, Isa. ii. 3. bul we shall incessantly animate one another to cele- brate the praises of the Author of our existence and happiness. In heaven we shall not approach a table to commemorate, by receiving a little bread and wine, our divine Redeemer, and to hold communion with God ; but we shall be as closely connected to God as creatures can be to the Creator. Those vir- tues which approach nearest to them that are anteri- or to time, and to them that continue to eternity, are more important than others, to which circumstances of time oblige us. 3. Our third rule regards objects of virtue. A virtue that bath a great object, is more important (ban those which have small objects. The answer of Jesus Christ to a famous question in his time is' well known. It was then warmly disputed, " Which is the great commandment?'' Some Rabbles said, it was that which appointed phylacteries; others affirm- ed, it was the law oi circumcision ; others again con- tended for that which appointed sacrifices. No, said Jesus Christ, none of these commandments merits the highest place, ^^the great commandment is. Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength.*' This law ad- mits of no dispensation, no limitation, no concur- rence. This law, I say, is indispensihle : it binds alike an- gels and men, and they are only devils who, having 00 Great Duties of Religion. J pfrecipltated themselves by the greatest of all crimes ' faito the greatest of all miseries, are reduced to the dreadful necessity of hating a God whose perfec- tions incline him to render them miserable. This law is unlimited. Others are confined to a certain sphere ; they cease to be virtues when they are carried to excess, and whatever carries us too far in performing one obligation, retrenches another ob- ligation. Excessive justice runs into barbarity, and leaves no room for the exercise of humanity. Ex- cessive penitence ceases to be repentance, degene- rates into despair, and leaves no room for faith in the promises of mercy made to us in the gospel. Excessive faith ceases to be faith, degenerates into superstition and puerile credulity, and leaves no room for the exercise of reason. But who can love God in an extreme ? A passion so noble can never be too vehement, nor can its flames ever burn with too much ardour. This law is without concurrence. The great ob- ject of our love admits of no rival in the heart. In many cases we ought to sacrifice one duty, which has God for its object, to another that has a neigh- bour for its object. It would be better to absent one's self from the external duties of religion than to neglect a dying parent. Love to God in this case is not in opposition to love for a fellow creature. God himself requires us in such a case to suspend a performance of ritual service, and to bend all our fittention to relieve a dying parent. The love then ihewn to a dying parent is a necessary consequence of Joying God, of that prinailive Iqve from which / i Great Dutieis of JReKgian. 61 all other loves proceed. Whenever the love of God and the love our neighbour are in opposition, so that we cannot perform the last without neglecting the first, we need not hesitate ; love to God must be pre- ferred before love to creatures. The most lawful attachments become criminal, when they diminish, yea when they divide, the regard that we ought to have for God. *^ No man can serve two masters.** " He that loveth father or mother, or son or daugh- ter more than me, is not worthy of me." " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great comnwndment," Matt. vi. 24. x. 17, and xxii. 36, 37. The objects of some virtues, which regard our neighbour, are greater than others of the same class. Charity which respects the life of a neighbour, is greater than that which regards his fortune. Chari- ty that regards his salvation, is greater than that which regards his life ; the objects are greater. The same may be said of virtues which regard ourselves. The rule is certain. A virtue which hath a great object is more important than another which hath a small object. 4. Our fourth rule regards the influence of virtues. Every virtue connected with other virtues, and draw- ing after it many more, is greater than any single and detached virtue. Tlie influence of virtues pro^ ceeds in some cases from the relations of him who performs them, and in other cases from the nature of the virtues themselves, I 62 Great Duties of Religion. The virtues of a iiiinister of state, and those of a minister of Christ, are of far greater importance in the execution of their offices than the other virtues of t-he same men which they practise as private per- sons in the comparative obscurity of their families. It is a very virtuous action in a statesman to provide r good tutors for his children ; but it is a far more / virtuous action in him to prefer able professors in aa I univei'sity. The first influence only his family, the last the whole state. The same reasoning holds in the case of a minister of Christ, and of every other v person, always proportioning, however, the duty to the relation that each bears in the world. Sometimes the influence of a virtue is essential to the nature of the virtue itself. It is a virtue to be- / stow on a beggar a sum sufiicient to free him from : the necessity of begging ; but it is a far more virtu- ous action to put him in a capacity of supporting himself; for by this mean he is not only freed from the temptations of poverty, but from those of idle- ness, the parent of all vice and misery. By this mean, you make a good member of society, a good father of a family, a good christian in the church, and so on. What has been said on the difference of virtues, both in this and in the former rules, may be applied to the difference of vices. Vicious actions of exten- sive influence ought to be considered as more odious than others of confined effects. It is certainly a de- testable action to utter, in excesses of debauchery, any maxims injurious to religion and good manners: but it is incomparably more detestable, cooly and Qrtat Duties of JReligioH. 63 deliberately to pen, print, publish, extend, and per- petuate these maxims. There is no pretext specious enojugfa to palliate the permission of such publica- tions, as there are no colours black enough to de- scribe the audacious authors of such books. No, neither that spirit of toleration, which pro- duces such innumemble blessings where it reign?, nor that freedom of commerce, which, where it is allowed, enriches nations, and renders them so flour- ishing and formidable ; no, no pretext can palliate the liberty, or rather the licentiousness that we de- plore. The law of God ordained that a blasphemer should be stoned, and this law was executed in all its rigour by the Jewish lefi;i^laturc. Have Chris- tians more right and I hear them address this friglrtful language to thee : Thou barbarian ! was it not enough for thee to delight thyself with^ error and vice, didst thou aspire at the glory of giving us a relish for it ! Was it not enough to e seclude thy- self from eternal happiness, must heaven also be shut against us^ by thine abominable maxims as well as thy pernicious example ! Was it not enough to precipi- tate thyself into these flames, must we be drawn after thee ! Thou wast our betrayer in time, and we will be thy tormentors through all eternity. Finally, the last rule to distinguish virtues the most important of others of inferior importance, is taken from the end of each. A virtue that constitutes the end to which all religion conducts us, is more impor- tant than otlier virtues which at most are only means to lead to the end. What is the end and design of all religion ? Can there be one among us so great a novice in the school of Jesus Christ as to want an an- swer to this question ? Let us hear St. Paul. " Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it, that he might sanctify it, and that he might present it to him- self a glorious church, not liaving spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish," Eph. v. 25, 26, 27. This is the end of reli- gion. Ill order to obtain this end, we are dedicated to God in baptism as soon as we are born. In our infancy we are inspired with a piety of prejudice ia hope that in time we may imbibe a rational piety. As . Oreat Dtdks of jReUgion. 65 soon as our minds. unfold their powers we are taught •to know our Creator. As we ripen in years and knowledge, tutors are provided for us, and we are conducted to places of public worship erected to the gloiy of our Creator ; there being assembled \ve are invited to celebrate solemn festivals; there we are taught whence we came and whither we go, what we are and what we ought to be, what we should belie ve> and what we ought to practice : we are led by the exercise of prayer to the source of all that assistance which is necessary to enable us to surmount the ob- stacles which nature, example, and habit, in spite of an education the most rigid and holy, oppose to our sanctification ; there we are made to ratify, by en- gagements the most solemn and binding, at the table of the Lord, all that had been promised for us at our baptism. Now what are all these practices ? Are they not means to conduct us to the end of religion ? Let us then put every thing in its proper place ; let us value the means only as they lead to the end ; and let us not imagine, when we have lost sight of the end, that we do any thing to purpose by continuing to make use of the means. Here, my brethren, I finish my essay ; for the rules laid down are sufficient to enable us to perceive the reasons which induced Jesus Christ to rank the vir- tues enumerated, judgment^ Jaith^ and mercy ^ among ihe weightier matters of the law. Can we refuse this rank to what Jesus Christ calls judgment ; that is, attentive, impartial, incorruptible jwsfe'ce ; such equity as that which eugageth a judge to go through the fatigue of a long and painful discussion of an intri- TOL. IV. 9 Gi Great Duties of ReUgim. cate tufcgect, to disregard the appearance of persons, fierer to suffer himself to he hUndedhy gifts, to deter- mine a point and decide a cause only by the justice or injustice of it ? Can we refuse this rank to mercy^ that is, to that benerolenoe which inclines us always to tolerate the tolerable infirmities of our neighbours, to excuse them when any excuse can be made for them, to conceal and correct them^ rather than to e»* yenom and publish them ; or to use the language of St. Paul, can we refuse to place in the highest order of virtues that charity " which suffereth long and is ']und> which Taunteth not itself, which is not puffed •up, which doth tiot behaTe itself unseemly, seeketh Bot its own> is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity^ beareth, believeth, hopetb, eiHlqreth all things," 1 Cor. xiii. 4, &c. My God, what a description ! My God, how seldom is this vir- tue practised, how little is it understood, even among christians! Finally, Can we refuse to place among the weightier matters of the law^ what Jesus Christ CdWsfaithy that is, such a rectitude and candour as all the world praise, though few practise, the virtue that makes a man sincere in bis professions, steady in' his friendships, punctual in his conti-acts, faithful in all his engagements ? Our attempt, our rules may serve to convince you, that these virtues ouglit to be placed in the highest rank, and that their places can- not be supplied by a punctual payment of tithes, or by any other duties of the same class. This is so clear that it is needless to add any thing more on this article* X Oreat PtMes ^ ReUgiMl Hf II. What we proposed to treat of in the second place demands a greater attention. We engaged to unmask such of our hearers as endea:yor to acquire hy the performance of less important duties, a right to neglect other duties of the highest class and of the utmost importance. And yet I have neithd^ time nor courage to fulfil this engagement. All that the few remaining moments, all that the delicacy, or» if I may venture to use the words 6f an apostle, all! that (he itching ears of our times will allow me to do, is to set" you a task. This is it. Recollect our rules, avail yourselves of them to enable you to fotm a just notion of your state; and to exemplify in a few articles what we cannot fully investigate, let one availhimself of oiir rules to enable him to make a just estimal9B of the decency of his outward deport- ment; let another judge by these of the value of those sacrifices which he has made for religion ; an- other of his assiduity in attending public worship ; and another of the encomiums which he makes on the dead, and which he hopes his survivors wiilaftef his decease make on him. You are a man of a grave deportment. All the virtues seem painted in your countenance, your eyei habitually roll towards heaven, the smallest inadver* tence offends and provokes you, your mouth never opens but to utter moral sentences; and yet you are proud and affronted at a smile, a look, the least indication of incivility. Every body knows you are always full of your own importance, your rep- utation, your rank, and what is still worse, yom* vfalue. It should seem you are afraid of defiUjQg 69 Grtat Duties of Religion. (yourself by touching other men, and always ex- claiming by your actions^ if not in so many words, ** Stand by thyself, come not near me, for I am ho- lier than thou," Isa. Ixv. 5. How little progress so- ever wc have made in the knowledge of the human I heart, and in the art of discerning the pretences, un- der which the most haughty souls conceal their }»ride, it is easy enough to see that what you esteem \ above all other things is self. Ah ! woe be to you J '' you pay tithe rf minty anise^ and cummin ; but you .' oimt the weightier mailers of the law. Do I impose ; on you? What place then does humility occupy i in your systerp of morality ? What value do you set upon humility, that virtue of which Jesus Christ bas given you so many excellent descriptions, and 80 many amiable models ? You have made great sacrifices for religion. You have left your country and your fortune, your hon- our and your familj-, yea, your all, to follow Jesus Christ : yet, were we to judge of your intention by your actions, we should affirm that you followed him only to have a fairer oppoi-tunity to insult and betray bim. It is notorious that you violate, with- out remorse, the most essential laws of that religion, for the sake of which you made such noble sacrifi- ces. In this exile, to which you voluntarily con- dejoaned yourself for the sake of religion, we see you covetous, envious, revengeful, wearing, and glorying to wear, the livery of the world. Ah ! woe he to you ! you pay tithe of mini, anisey and cummin: but omit the weightier matters of the law. I ask again, do I impose oi? you ? What place, then, doe^ Oreat Duties qf JReligimi. 69 f he practical part of religion occupy in your sys- tem ? Is Christianity less pfbposed to your heart than to your mind ? Is the person from whom it proceeds, less jeal6us of his precepts than of his doctrines ? Satisfied that his disciples say Lordj • Lord^ is he in- different wiiether they perform or omit what he com- mands ? You are assiduous in attending public worship. You are scrupulously exact in the performance of every part. . Our festivals are delicious days to you ; but alas! devotion sours your temper, and you be- come insufierable as you grow devout. You make your friends martyrs ; you treat your children like slaves, and your domestics like animals of a species different from your own. You are more like a fury than a man. Your house is a heU, and it seems as if you came into a christian church only to learn of the God, who is worshipped there, the art of becom- ing a tonuentor of mankind. Ah! "Woe be to you ! you pay tithe of mint, anise, and cummin ;" but " you omit the weightier matters of the law." I ask again. Do I impose on you ? What rank, then, in your system does discretion occupy ? Where is that spirit of prudence, patience, gentleness, and goodness, which the inspired writers so often repeat, and so powerfully recommend in their writings? You celebrate the praises of your dying friends, and incessantly exclaim, " How comfortably he died 1" If you do oot go so far as to place your de- parted friends, who in your opinion died in such a christian manner,* among the number of the gods, you do place them without scruple in the number of 70 Oreal Duties cf Heligion. the saints. This sort of encomium is a model of that at which you aspire ^%ence you often exclaim, speaking of your good departed friend, "Let me die his death, and let my last end belike his !" Numb, xxiii. 10. When you are seized with any illness that threatens your life, you put on all the exterior of religion. I see one minister after another sitting at your bed-side. I hear your constant sobs and groans. Here is nothing but weeping and sighing and holy ejaculations ; but I stand listening to hear you utter one other word, that is, restituliony and that I never hear. I never hear you say, as Zaccheui said, " If I have taken any thing from atny man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold," Luke xix. 8. I never see your cofiers disgorge the riches you have obtained by extortion ; you never hear, or nev-i er feel the cries " of the labourers, which have reap*" ed down your fields, whose hire is of you kept back by fraud, the cries of whom are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth," James v. 4. You choose rather to set at defiance all those terrible judg- ments which God hath denounced against extortion- ers than to part from yoiir idol, gain; you would rather transmit your fortune under a curse to your posterity than restore what you and your ancestors have extorted. Ah ! " Wo be to you ! you pay tithe of mint, anise, and cummin ; but you omit the weightier matters of the law, judgment, faith, and mercy!" .^ My brethren, it is a deplorable thing, that when ( we treat of such aw important subject ^s thisj we are obliged to pay more attention to the delicacy of our Oreat Duties of Religion. 71 hearers than to the weight of the subject. But ia the name of God, do you yourselves finish the list of those articles which timidity (or, shall I say, cau- tion ?) forbids me to extend. Go up to the origin of that disposition which I have been opposing. It must proceed from one of three principles ; it must come from either narrowness of mind, or hypocrisy, or a criminal composition. Perhaps it may proceed from littleness of mind. ^ We arc enslaved by external appearance. We dc- I termine ourselves by semblances. In the world more reputation is acquired by the shadow than by the substance of virtue. By habituating ourselves to tliis- kind of imposition, we bring ourselves to be- lieve that God will suffer himself to be imposed on in the same manner. ^' These things hast thou done," saith he by the mouth of a prophet, "and thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself," Psal. 1. 21. We insensibly persuade our- selves, that, provided we lift our eyes to heaven, God will think our hearts are elevated thither ; pro- vided we kneel before the throne of God, he will think our hearts bow with our bodies ; provided we mutter a few prayers, God will accept us as if we formed ideas and performed acts of love. This is littleness of mind. ^-^ Sometimes it proceeds from hypocrisy. Jesus Christ reproached the Pharisees with this. The Pharisees were attached to religion no furtlier than as it acquired them reputation in the world. But I will not insist on this article. I freely acknowledge, I had almost said I lament, that hypocrisy is not the / / 72 Great Duties of Religion. .vice of our age. Piety is now so little respected, that we need not much suspect people of aiimng to acquire reputation by professing it; yea, perhaps, it may oftener happen that they who really have some degree of it conceal it in order to escape con« tempt, than that others who have none, affect to possess it in order to acquire public esteem. ~ Sometimes also this disp>osition of mind proceeds from a criminal composition^ We have the face to compound with God. We are wiUing to perform the external part of religion, provided he will dis- pense with the internal part ; we are ready to offer sacrifices provided he will dispense with obedience ; we are willing to do what costs our depravity noth- ing, or next to nothing, if he will dispense with what would cost it much. Let us finish. One maxim, which I intreat yon to retain in memory, is the essence of my subject, and the spring that gives force to all the exhortations which I have addressed to you in the latter periods of this discourse. This maxim is, that a christian is obliged by his heavenly calling, not only to practise I all virtues, but to place each in its proper rank ; to give more application to such as merit more appli- cation, and to give most of all to such as require most of all. On this principle, what an idea ought we to form of that mercy or benevolence, which ray text places among the weightier matters of the law ? You have lieard the value of this in the body of this discourse. Such virtues as have God for their object are more important than other?, which have our neighbour for /" t \ Oreat BuHes of ReligioiL 75 their object But God, in order to engage us to h&* jdeTolence, bath ta^igbt us to consider beneficence to our neighbours as one of the surest evidences of our lore to himself. He unites himself with the poor ; he clothes himself, as it were, with their miseries} and he tells us, inasmuch as ye do good unto one ^ the least of these^ ye do it unto me, Matt. xxt. 40. What a sublime idea ! From what a fund of love does such a benevolent declaration proceed ! An(( at the same time, what a motive to animate us to benevolence. This virtue, to the practice of which we perpetU'* ally exhort you, ought to be extraordinarily exert- ed, my dear brethren, now that God visits us with a sort of judgment, I mean the excessive rigour of this winter,. It is not a judgment upon you, rich men, God loads you with temporal blessings; but it falls upon you, miserable labourers, whose hand% benumbed with cold, are rendered incapable of working, the only way you have of procuring a morsel of bread for yourselves and your families : upon you, poor old people, struggling at the same time against the infirmities of old age and the rigours of the season : upon you, innocent victims to hun- ger and cold, who have no provision except cries and tears, and whom I see more dead than alive around a fire that emits less heat than smoke : uppA you, wretched sick people, lodged in a hovel open on all sides to the weather, and destitute of both nourishment and clothing. Is it wrong to call a cause producing such tragical effects a judgment? Must I justify the term by reasons more con- TOL. IV. lb ;74 Oreid Hvties (f Religion. vincing? I am ashamed to allege them. Without pretending to answer for the fact, (it is an afiair too mortifying for some of us to investigate,) we are assured, that some have perished with cold. I do not know who is in fault, but I recollect the . complaint which St. Paul addressed to the Corinthi- ans, when incest had been committed in their city. What! said he, have ye heard of this deed, and have ye not covered yourselves with mourning ? 1 Cor. V. 1^2» What! my dear brethren, in a christian society, do we see such evenjts j do we behold the poor dying with cold, without being touched in our inmost souls, without inquiring into the cause of such a misfortune, wkhout applykg proper means to prevent such things in future ? With this pious design, the dispensers of your bounty will again humbly wait at the door of this church to receive your charitable contributions, itt order to enable them to-day plentifully to supply the w^ants of such as perhaps- may die to-day, if they be not relieved. With the same pious views, they have besought the magistmtes to grant them an fex- traordinary colJectioa, and next Wednesday they intend to coryure you by those shocking objects^ with which their own- minds are affected, and with which they have thought it their duty to affect ours, to afford such relief as may be necessary to prevent the many evils, with which the remainder of the win- ter yet threatens us. If you accuse me of applying too often to you on this subject, I answer, my importunity is your glory. You have affectionately habituated me to Great DuHes of Religion. 75 see you accessible, and myself successful, when I speak to you on subjects of this kind. I hope I shall always find you the same ; J hope you will not be rveary in weU doings 2 Thess. il 13. I hope the voice of so many wretched petitioners as beseech you by my mouth, will not sound in vain in this christian assembly. Hear it, you happy natives of these provinces, whom God distinguishes by so ma- ny favours. Hear it, my dear countrymen, whom heaven hath enriched in your exile, and who, after having youi'selves been a long time in want of assist- ance, are now so able to assist others. Hear it, gen- erous strangers, who sometimes mix your devotions with those which we ofler to God in this house ; con- tribute to our charities, and share with us the bless- ings which they procure. God grant us all grace to do his will. To the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory for ever. Amen. SERMON m. The 8maU Duties of Rdigion. Matthew xxiii. 23* Woe unto you. Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of mint, anise, and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law,judg^ ment, mercy, and faith : these ought ye to have done, and not to have the other undone. xN order to form a just notion of the littie duties of religion of which we are about to treat, we must avoid a disposition to fastidious nicety, and an inclir nation to panics, or groundless fears. Nothing is more opposite to the genius of religion than what I call a fastidious nicety, a sort of trifling spirit. It is incompatible with the greatness of God, whom we serve, and the excellence of rational crea-; tures, to whom religion is proposed. It is inconsis^r ent, too, with the importance of those engagements to which the gospel calls us, and with the magnitude of thoie objects which it proposes to our faith. What condemns a trifling spirit censures also aii inclination to groundless fears. For example, a christian seriously prepares himself for the Lord's supper ; when he partakes of it, a wandering thought alarms him, and he is filled with terror, as if he had 78 Small IhUies of Religion. committed a high crime against God. But can we imagine, that God is setting snares for us, while he is giving us tokens of his love ? Who can presume to approach the table of the Lord, I do not say wor- thily, but possibly, if there were any ground for such panics as these ? Do you think you do honour to Crod, by attributing to him a turn for such -com- paratively insignificant niceties (forgive the expres- sion, I cannot convey my meaning without it,) a dis- position, I think, which you would hardly suppose kk n sensible man ? Can you suppose that God loves you with less wisdom, and less condescension than ymi love your children ? Far from us be such odious thoughts ! Remember, " the spirit which ye have re- ceived, is not a spirit of bondage to fear; but a spir- it of adoption," Rom. viii, 15. Remember, ye are ** not children of the bond woman; but of the free,*' Gal. iv..31. "Stand fast then in that inestimable liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free," chap. V* 1. " Give of such things as ye have, and behold all things are clean unto you," Luke xi. 41. Be ful- ly persuaded that in a religion of love, love excuses much infirmity, and sets a value on some seemingly Inconsiderable actions, which appear to have only a very remote connection with the disposition whence they proceed. In what then, you will ask, consist what we call small or little dutie s ? What are the less weighty things of the law, which Jesus Christ says we ought not to leave- vndone, after we have done the more weigh- p tytidngs? My brethren, -the duties of which we { apeak to-day, ought, not to be accounted littky ex- 8maU Duties of JRet^UM. 79 cept when they are compared with other diitie^^ which are of greater importance; and, as we said last Lord's-day, because they are consequences more remote from original primitive right. How- ever, though little duties do not proceed so directly and immediately as great duties do, yet do they pro- ceed from the same origin; and though they are not the first links of the chain of christian virtue^ yet they are as truly connected with IheorigiAas the first > Choose of the list of moral virtues any one that seems the least important, and I will justify my idea of it. For instance, to be affable and accessible, to give attention to the tiresome tale of a tedious fel- low christian in some difficulty, this is one of the very kastdidies that we can enjoin you, this is one of the less weighty matters of tke law. Who wiH pretend to compare this with what you ought to do for this man in other cases ? You ought to supply his wants when he is in a sick-bed, to defend his rep^- utation when it is attacked, to support and provide lor his family when it falls to decay. Tliis first lit- tle duty, however, small as it may appear, proeeeds from the same principle of primitive law as the last great duties do. This law is expressed in these words, AU things whatsoever ye would that men shoM do unto yoUj do ye even so to them. Matt. viL 12. Would any one of you be convinced of this ? Put yourself in the place of this man. Suppose a per- son elevated as much above you as you pretend to be above him^ would it not mortify you if he either refiisecikto hear you at all, or gave you only a care- > 80 Smatt Bulks of ReUgian. less negligent audience ? Let each of you, my breth- ren, enlarge this thought, and by applying it to him- self, let him judge whether my proposition be not sufiiciently clear. I carry my proposition further still. I affirm, not oidy that there is no duty so small in the moral law as not to proceed from primitive original right, but that God never prescribed an observance so insignif- icant in the ceremonial law as not to proceed from the same origin. Hum shall lave the Lord thy Gad mlh aU thy hearty Deut. vi. 5. this is the first princi- ple of primitive law. If we ought to love God with all our hearts, we ought carefully to observe all the means which he hath appointed to cherish this love. Now, these means vary according to the various cir- cumstances in which they to whom the means are prescribed may be. A worship charged with cere- monies would serve only to extinguish emotions of love, if prescribed to people in some conditions ; yet the same sort of worship would inflame the love of other people in diflFerent circumstances. The Jews were in the last case. Born and brought up in slave- ry, employed, as they were, in manual occupations, tiiey would have been destitute of all ideas under an economy without ceremonies. Surrounded with idolatrous nations, and naturally inclined, as they were, to idolatry, it was necessary, in order to pre- vent their copying such wretched examples, to which they had strong propensities and inducements, I say, it was necessary, if I may venture to speak so, not to give them opportunity to breathe, to keep theiTJ SmaU Duties of RfHigicfih 81 constantly employed in some external action, every- moment of the time devoted to religion. Christians, I allow, are in circumstances altogether different. A mass of ceremonies would serve only to veil the beauty of that God, whom no man had seen at any time before the advent of Christ, and Avhom the only begotten Son^ which is in the bosom i^, the Father, hath declared, John i. 18. Whatever contributes to the concealment of the perfections of this God damps that love which a contemplation of them inspires. Yet, as we are full of infirmities on this earth, we want a few signs to produce and cher- ish in us the love of God. Where is the man who is capable of a devotion all disengaged from sense ? who can fix his eyes immediately on the sun of right' emsnessj Mai. iv. 2. Where is the man who is ca- pable of such abstract meditations and pure emo- lions as constitute the worship of angels and sera- phim ? Alas ! my soul, how difficult is recollection to thee, even with all the assistance of a religious ceremonial ! How hard dost thou find it to maintain a spirit of devotion even in this place, in this con- course of people, with all these voices, and with those ordinances which are appointed for the main- tenance of it? What wouldst thou do, wert thou left to thine own meditations only, to practise a pie- ty altogether spiritual and free from external ac- tion? Let us finish this article. The least important parts of ceremonial worship, as well as the least vir- tues of morality, which we call little duties^ or the less weighty matters of the law, proceed from primi- VOT.. IV. 11 82 Small Duties^ Religion. Urelaw, by consequences more remote, but as real as those of the most important duties. What we have been saying of the nature of little duties demonstrates the obligation of them. They all proceed from primitive law. You cannot, there- Ibre, neglect the performance of them without con- fining what ought to be infinite. - But this is too vague. We will treat of the sub- ject more at large, and in order to enable you more fully to perceive your obUgaMon to littk duties^ I will ^eak of them in four different views, each of which will open a field of reflections. I. They contribute to maintain a tenderness of Conscience. II. They are sources of re-cofiversion after great faUs. III. They make up by their frequency what is wanting to their importance. IV. They have sometimes characters as certain of real love as the great duties have. Now, my brethren, whatever engages us to the performance of little duties must preserve us from the commission of what the world calls little sins. This is all I have to propose to you at present. I. An exact performance of little duties maintains tenderness of conscience. By conscience I mean that instant, and, in some sort, involuntary approbation of our own conduct when we discharge our obliga- tions, and that sentence of condemnation which we cannot help denouncing against ourselves, whenev- er we are so unhappy as to violate them. In the language of St. Paul, it is the work of the lam writ- iSmaU Duties of MeUgum. S3 ten in our hearts^ our thoughts accusing or else eiretr- sing one another , Rom. li. 18. Conscience, considered in this point of light, m the sanoe in our souls in regard to salvation as the senses are in our bodies in regard to health and life. The office of our senses is to inform us, by the short method of sensation, of whatever may be hurt- ful or beneficial to our bodies. If when any exte- rior body approached us we were always obliged to measure its size, to examine its configuration, t6 judge by the laws of motion, action, and reaction, whether its approach would be hurtful or beneficial to us, our frail machine would be crushed to atoms before we could finish the discussion. If it were necessary always before we took any nourishment to examine the nature of the aliments before us, to understand the properties and effects of them, w* should die with hunger before we had finished oui^ researches. God hath enabled the senses of our bo- dies to supply the place of tedious discussions. This beautiful economy is never disconcerted except when our bodies are disordered. It is exactly the same in regard to conscience. If always when it was necessary to determine the mo* rality of an action, we were obliged to turn over a large class of books, to consult our casuists, and to examine a whole system of rectitude, what would become of us ? The short way of sentiment supplies the place of all this discussion. A sudden horror, excited by the idea of a crime which we are tempted to commit, a secret joy, excited by the idea of a vit*- tue, which we are going to practice, are, in urgent 84 SmaU, Duties of JReUgioti. cases, systems, books, and casuists to us. When we lose this moral sense, we lose our best guide, and are then exposed to an infallible misery of pro- ceeding from one error to another, from a first perni- cious practice to a second, and so in the end to a gulf of final wretchedness. . Such being the design of conscience, the end for which God hath appointed it, we can never be too diligent to avoid those things which impair it, as, on the other hand, we can never apply ourselves too eagerly to such practices as contribute to improve and perfect it. Now, I afliirm, that the first of these efiects is produced by allowing ourselves to commit little sins, and the second by an exact performance of litUe deities. . The commission of little sins leads on to the per- petration of great crimes; and we cannot assure our- wives that we should religiously practice great vir- tues, unless we scrupulously discharge other obliga- tions comparatively small. Of the raaqy examples which present themselves to my mind, which shall I select to elucidate this subject? Where originate the vexations caused by those public robbers, who are the scourge of many a country ? In a neglect of small virtues, in a practising of what are called lit- tie sins. At first the man transgressed in a small degree the laws of frugality and modesty. Not content with a convenient situation, he. aspired to make a figure. His table became in his eyes too plain, he wislied it might be furnished, not as for- merly with plenty, but with taste and expensive delicacy. To compass these designs he was obliged SmaU Duties of Meligiou. 85 i» exceed his income. His lawful income not being '\ sufficient, he supplied his pressing necessities by means which at first sight seemed not very blamea- ble. — ^He borrowed money. After some time bis j creditor bec?i me troublesome, at length formidable; • at first he solicited, at last he threatened. The wretched debtor a while thought be must deliver . himself up to his creditor ; at length he saw himself reduced to the necessity either of retrenching his expences, or of transgressing a little the maxims of severe equity : he determined on the last, and avail- >^ ed himself of the property of others for whom lie was in trust, intending, however, to replace it the first opportunity. Such an opportunity never hap- pened ; and the same motives that induced him to begin this vicious course of action engages him to persevere in it. Hence comes his venality, hence his public frauds, hence his base inclination to make sale of both church and state whenever he can find purchasers to come up to his price. There is a virtue which we cannot fully treat of ' without danger. To enforce the practice of some virtues is sometimes to excite a disposition to violate it. To describe exactly the dangers which must be avoided by those who would practise the virtue of w^hich I now speak, would be to increase the num- ber of delinquents. But whence, think ye, come the' utmost excesses of voluptuousness, and the enor-» mous crimes which its votaries have been capable of perpetrating in order to cover the scandal of hav- ing yielded to it ? Both proceed from a neglect of little duties, and a commission of little sins, I will 86 SmaU Unties rf Seligion. here borrow the language of the most eloquent and polite writer of his time. " Voluptuousness at first IB nothing but an unintentional curiosity. It pro- ceeds from an affection apparently lawful. A little worldly complaisance mixes with it. The mind by little and little turns to its object ; the heart softens and dissolves. Means to please are sought. Inqui- finds every day, and every moment, opportunities of giving God proofs of his love. He hath not only a religion of times and circumstances, which is sometimes ju^ly suspected, but a religion of influence that dilQfusetb itself into every part of his life. There is not a mo- ment in which he doth not make some progress IQ his heavenly course. By his attention to erery little duty, he discharges the greatest of all duties, ih9t which St. Paul prescribes to all christians, " Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God," 1 Cor. x. 31. He is an exact imitatof of Jesus Christ, '' the author and finisher of his £ii^h» who went about doing good,'* Heb. xiL 2. like bim he can say, " I have set the Lord always befoi^ me ; because he is at my right hand I shall never be moved," Psal. xvi. 8. Had I not reason to affirm, that little duties compensate, by the frequency of their return, for what is wanting to constitute their importanpe ? IV. Our third reflection leads us to a fourth. Lit- tle duties have sometimes characters more evident cf real love to Gody than the most important duties have^ If hypocrisy, if false ideas of religion, somettmeB produce little duties, it must be also allowed, that secular motives, interest and vain glory, .sometimes give birth to great exploits. Pride, without any 92 Small Duties of Religion. mixture of love to order, is sometimes sufficient to engage us to make those great sacrifices of which we just now spoke. Sometimes nothing but an ex- treme and refined attachment to virtue can animate UB to perform little duties. There is sometimes more genuine benevolence in accepting such tokens of gratitude as a poor man gives for a favour conferred on him than in conferring the favour itself. There is sometimes more humility in receiving the praise from a man whose esteem flatters our vanity a little, than in refusing to hear it. After all, though the love of God differs in many respects from mere worldly esteem, yet there are some resemblances. We often think ourselves obliged to render consid- erable services to people for whom we have no great regaixlj but it is only for such as we hold in the highest veneration that we feel certain little attach- ments, certain little attentions, ceilain solicitudes, which indeed are called little m usual phrase, but .which are strong denionstrations of the tender sen- timents of the soul. It is just the same with divine love. But this is one of those truths of sentiment and experience, which each of you may understand better by consulting the history of iiis own life, and by watching the motions of his own heart, than by attending to our syllogisms and discussions. , Perhaps you may imagine God cannot, without debasing bis Majesty, cast bis eyes on those insignifi- cant actions which we are recommending to you. But undeceive yourselves. What could be less con- siderable than those two mites which the poor widow ia the gospel csist into the treasury ? Marl^ xiL 4^. SimU DuMes of Ri^igion. 93 Yet we know what Jesus Christ thought of that ac- tion. What service less considerable could be ren- dered Jesus Christ just before his death, than to pour ointment on his head ? The apostles had indignation within themselves at this imseasonable ceremony, chap. xiv. 13. &c. They were angry with the wo- man for diverting the attention of Jesus Christ from those great objects with which his whole soul had been filled. But he reproved them. " Why trouble ye the woman?" said he; she hath performed an action worthy of emulation. " Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shalb be. preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of, for a memorial of her.'* What can be less considerable in itself than a cup nf cold water ? Yet Jesus Christ promises to reward even this with eternal life, when it is given from a principle of real piety. We said before, my breth*- ren, and allow us to repeat it again, in a religion of love, whatever proceeds from a principle of love hath an intrinsic value. I unite now the subjects of both the discourses, which I have addressed to you, on the words of my text, and, by collecting both into one point of view, 1 ask. What idea ought you to form of a religion which exhibits a morality so pure and complete? What idea of the preaching of those ministers, who are called to instruct you in it ? What idea of the engagements of such disciples as profess to submit to the discipline of it ? What Ide^ ought you to form of a religion that presmbes a morality so pure and complete ? Th? ■ H Small DuHes tf JRsUgiM. christian religion requires each of us to form, a6 well as be can, just notions of primitive law : to observe iill tbe consequences, and to place each ▼iitue that proceed? from primitive right, in its just order; to give the first rank to those virtues which immediately proceed from it, and the second to those which pro- ceed from it mediately and remotely. Christianity requires us to regulate our application to each virtue, by tbe place which each occupies in this scale ; to jet no bounds to the loving of that God, whose per- iections are infinite ; to entertain only a limited es- teem for finite creatures ; to engage our senses in devout exercises, but to take care that they are held under government by our minds ; to sing the praises of the Lord with our voices, biit animated with our affections; in short, to look toward heaven, but to let inward fervour produce the emotion, deter- mine the direction, and fix the eye. How amiable would society be, if they who compose it were all followers of this religion ! How happy would it be to make treaties, to form allian- ces, to unite Ourselves, by the most affectionate and indissoluble ties, to men inviolably attached to this religion ! Had not God shaken nature, and subvert- ed kingdoms, or, in the language of a prophet, had he not ^' shaken the heavens and the earth, and the iea, and the dry land," Hag. ii. 6. to establish this religion in the world, yet it ought to be held in the bigbest estimation for its own intrinsic worth. How can we help being filled wiUi indignation at those abominable men, who, in sp^te oi all the demonstra- Small IMm of Religion. 95 tions of the divine origin of this religion, place their glory in weakening its empire over the heart! 2. But if Tou form such noble ideas of a religion, the morality of which is so extensive aud so pure, what ideas ought you to form of the preaching of those who are appointed to instruct you in it? Which way, think you, ought they to bend their force ? What kind of questions ought they to pro- pose in the Christian pulpit ? Under what point of view ought they to consider the texts, which make the matter of their discourses ? Are they required to excite your astonishment by flights of imagina- tion, or to gratify your curiosity by a display of their profound erudition? Does not their office rather require them to employ all the times you al- low them to free you from your prejudices, to lake off* those scales from your eyes, which prevent your perceiving " the things which belong unto your ev- erlasting peace,*' Luke xix. 42. and to give you such directions as you may follow, as far as can be in the tumult of the world, whither either your incli- nations or your necessities call you. My brethren, while I was meditating on my text, two methods of discussing it presented themselves to my mind. Following the first of these plans, I divided my discourse into three parts, according to the three parts, that is, the three different herbs mentioned in the text. Each of these parts I subdivided into three more. First, I examined the fcwrce, the sig- nification, the derivation of the original term, and I inquired whether the word were rightly lendered 96 ' Small Duties of Religion. mint, I quoted various opinions on this subject, for interpreters ai-e very much divided about it. Ac- cording to the Ethiopjc version, Jesus Christ spoke ot, hyssop; and according to other versions, some other plant. Secondly, I examined the nature, the uses, the properties of the herb, to which I had re- stored the true name, and here I heaped up a great number of passages from Aristotle, Pliny, Solinus, Salmasius, and many other authors, who have ren- dered themselves famous by this kind of erudition. Thirdly, having studied mint as a critic and as a nat- uralist, I proceeded at length to examine it as a di- vine. I inquired why God demanded tithe of this herb. Perhaps, thought I, here may be some mystery in this affair. I say perhapSy for I ac- knowledge myself a mere novice in this science, as in a great many others. However, there may be some mysteries in this offering. I was certain, if imagination supplied the place of reason, and flights of fancy were put instead of facts, it would not be impossible to find mysteries here. If this herb be sweet, said I, it may represent the sweet- ness of mercy; if it be bitter, it may signify the bitterness of justice. If Jesus Christ meant hyssop, as some think, it was that very herb of which the famous bunch was made, that was dipped in the blood of sparrows at the purification of lepers. What mysteries! What I had done with wiw/ under the first head, I did over again under the second article atdscy and the same over again under the third head cummin. This was my first plan of discussion. Small Duties of Siligiatti^ 97. The s^ond method was that which I haveehosen,; In a former discourse on this text, we endeavoweft to convince you that you were under an indispeosl:' ble obligaition to perform the great duties of religion. . In this we have been endeavouring to obtain your regard to the little duties of religion; to engage you to submit to the laws of God, even in things of the least importance ; and thus to give you a completf^ chain of christian virtues. My brethren, God forbid that our discourses, which ought always to be animated with a spirit of benevolence, should at any time degenerate into sa- tire, and that we should enjoy a malicious pleasure in exploding the method of those who entertain ideas different from ours on the best manner of preaching. I grant, birtli, education, and a course of study, have a great deal of influence over us in this respect. But,. in the name of God, do not condemn us for treat- ing you like rational creatures, for addressing to you, as to intelligent beings, the words of an apos- tle, We " speak as to wise men, judge ye what we say," 1 Cor. x. 15. Judge what are the obligations of the ministers of a religion, the morality of which is so extensive and pure. 3. Finally, What idea ought you to fonn of the engagements of such disciples as profess to give them- selves up to this religion, the morality of which we have been describing ? Where are the christians who iiave this complete chain of the virtues of Christian- ity ? Where shall we find christians, who, after they have performed, with all due attention, the great duties, hold themselves bound by an inviolable law VOT.. IT. 13 ^ft AiiaS Duties of Religwn. not to neg^ct the leart ? Alas ! we are alvAys com- plaining of the weight of the yoke of tfie Lord { We are perpetually exclaiming, like the profane Jews mentioned by M alachi, ^' Behold what a wearir ness it is !"^ chap. L 13» We dispute the ground with God ! It should seem he hath set too high a price on heaven. We are always ready to curtail his requi- sitions. What I say we, cannot he be contented with this? will he not be satisfied with that ? Ah ! my dear brethren, let us open our eyes to our interest : let us obey the laws of God without Msenre : let us observe alike the most important vlr- ^es which he hath prescribed to us, and those which are least knportant. We ought to do so, not only Ikecause he is our master, but because he is our fefher, because he proposes no other end but that of jrendering us happy ; and because so much as we retrench our duties, so much we diminish our hap- piness. To this God, whose love is always in union with justice, be honour and glory, dominion and nauesty, both now and for ever. Amen. SERMON IV. *rhe Dam ef the Righteous and the WkkedL Retelation xxi. 7, 8. He that avereometh shaU inherit off things, and t w^ be his Oody and he shaU he my son. But the fearful^ and the unbelieving, and the abominable, mid mur* dererSy and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idoU^ ters, and all Kars, shaU have their part in the lake which bumetk with fire and brimstone^ which is (hi second death. It is a subject deserviiijj the most profound refleo- lions, my brethren, that the most irregular being, % mean the deyil, is at the same time tiie mofit miserablei and that the most holy Being, he who is holy by exy cellence, is at the same time the most happy, and thus unites in his own essence supreme holiness with sovereign happiness. Satan, who began his auda- cious projects in heaven, the habitation qf holiness, 2 Chron. xxx. 27, Satan, who rebelled against God amidst the most noble displays of his magnificence, and who is still a ffturderer and a liar, John viii. 4^. Satan is in the depth of misery. He was hurled down from a pinnacle of glory, expelled for eve/ from the society of the blessed, and there is a lake of fire prepared for him and bis angels, Matt xxv. 41. 100 The Doom of the JRighteous and the Wicked. God is the most hoJy Being. Indeed, the terms Vfrtue and hoUness are very equivocal, when applied to an independent being, whose authority is absolute, who has no law but his own wisdom, no rules of rec- titude but his own volitions. Yet, order, whatever is sublime in what -we mortals call holiness^ virtue, justice, eminently dwells in the Deity, and forms one grand and .glorious object of the admiration and praise of the purest . intelligences, who incessantly make it the matter of the songs which they sing tp his honour, and who cry day and night one to an- other, " Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord Qod Almighty. O Lord, thou king of saints, who shall not fear thee and glorify thy name ? For Jhou only art holy ; for all nations shall come and wor ship before thee," Rev. xv. 3, 4. This Being, so ho- Ij, so just ; this Being who is the source of holiness, justice, and virtue ; this Being possesses at the same time the highest possible happiness. He is, in the language of scripture, the happy God^, and as I said before, he unites in his own essence supreme holi- ness with supreme happiness. What boundless objects of contemplation would this reflection open to our view, my brethren, were it necessary to pursue it ? Consider it only in one point of light. The destination of these two beings $o different, is, if I may be permitted to say so, the rule of the destination of all intelligent beings. All things considered, the more we partake of the impu- * I Tim. i. 11. . See Vol. I. p. .113, note. Serm. 2. On iha JtteiT^ity.of Gccl. The Doom of the Righteous and theWicJceJ. 101 rity of Satan, the more we partalce of his misery. It would be absurd to suppose, that in the lime of the restitution of all thingSy Acts iii. 21. which will soon arrive, and justify providence against the innumera- ble censures passed upon it, it would be absurd to suppose, that if we have appropriated the irregular- ities of the impure spirit we should not at that time partake of his misery ; and it would be absurd to suppose, that we can partake of the virtues of the holy Being, without participating his felicity and glory. Each part of these propositions is contained in the words of my text. He that overcometh^ he who in this world of obstacles to virtue shall take the holi- ness of God for his rule, as far as it is allowable for frail creatures to regulate themselves by an ex- ample so perfect and sublime, he thai overcometh shall have no bounds set to his happiness. He shaU inherit all things, he shall enter into the family of God himself. " I will be his God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars," of what order soever they be, all those who do " the works of the devil," shall be placed in a condition like his, " shall have their part in the lake which burnr eth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death." We invite you to-day to meditate on these truths, and in order to reduce the subject to the size of a single sermon, we will only insist on such articles of the morality of St. John as are least known and most 102 I%e Doom of the Righteous and the disputed. We will dislinguiah io ibis system such virtues to be practised, and such vices to be avoided as are most opposite to those prejudices which the world usually forms concerning the final doom of mankind. I. The first prefudiee which we intend to attack is (his, A life spent in ease and idleness is not incompat- Me with salvation, if it be free from great crimes* Against this we oppose this part of our text, '^ He that bvercometh shall inherit." In order to inherit, we must overcome. Here vigilance, action, and motion are supposed. II. The second prejudice is this, A just God wiU not impnte to his creatures sins of infirmity and con- stitution, though his creatures shotdd he siAject to them during the whole course of their lives. Against this we oppose these words of the apostle, " The fear- ful and whoremongers shall have their part in the lake which bumeth with fire and brimstone." III. The third pr^udice is this, Speculative errors cannot be attended with any fatal consequences, pro- vided we live uprightly, as it is caUed, and discharge our social duties. Against this we oppose this word, the unbelieving. The unbelieving are put into the class of the miserable. IV. The fourth prgudice is this, Religions are in- different. The mercy of God extends io those who live in the most erroneous communions. Against this we oppose the word idolaters. Idolaters are consider- ed among the most criminal of mankind. V. The last prejudice is this. None but the vulgar ought to be afraid of committing certain crimes. Kings Tke Horn cf the JRigiieous mtd Ote mcked. 103 nnU he judged by a particular law : the greatness of the mfitive that incUned them to manage some chairs of state mU plead thdr excuse^ and secure them from divine vengeance. Against this we oppose these words, abominahUj poisoners,* and all liars, which three words include aknost all those abominations which are called illustrious crioies. However, these abom- inable, these poisipners, and all these liars, shall have, as well as the fearful, the unbelieving, the un* clean, and the idolaters, '^ their part in the lake which bumeth with fire and brimstone." L liCt us begin with the first prejudice. A life spent in ease and idleness is iwt incompoMJUe with sodr vatiouy if it be free from great crimes. St. John takes away this uqjq^t pieteit, by considering sal* vation as a prize to be obtained by conquest. Be who overcometh, implies vigilance, activity, and mo- tion. Two considerations will place the meaning of our apostle in the clearest light. We take the first from the nature of evangelical virtues, and the se- cond i^m the nature of those vices which are for- bidden in the gospel. 1 . The nature of evangelical virtues demands vigi- lance, action, and motion. It is impossible to exei^ cise tliese virtues under the influence of indolence, idleness, and ease. Let us examine a few of these virtues. What is the love of God ? It is tiiat disposition of the soul which inclines us ^o adore his perfections, * Poiaonera ^et^ftaxivo't. Veneficis. Incantatoribus. Qui ma- ils magiae aitibus utuntur. The French bibles read emfioison-^ neure^ poisoners. 104 Tlit Doom of the llighUous and the Wicked. to admire with the highest joy his glorious attributes, and to desire with the utmost ardour to be closely united to him ns to our supreme good ; but this dis- position cannot be exercised, it cannot be acquired ^vithout vigilance, action, and motion. We must meditate on that sovereign power which formed this imivcrsc by a single volition, and by a single volition determined its doom. We must meditate on that su- piTme wisdom which regulates all the works of su- preme power, combining causes with effects, and means with ends, and which by this infinite combin- ation hath always adjusted, and continues to arrange and (hVect all the works which Ve behold, and oth- ers without number which lie beyond the utmost tstretch of our imagination. We must meditate on that iH>rfect justice which is engiaven on all the pro- ductions of the Creator, on all the conduct of prov- idence, and remarkably on the consciences of man- kind, which continually accuse or fariwi' their action?. Rom. ii. lo. Conscience is either tortured with re- morse or involved in delight, according as we hpiVe bet ti attached to virtue, or violated it. We must meditate on that infinite goodness which is orfr a/7 his norls, Psal. cxlv. 9. We must not only consider Uiis palace where God hath lodged man, a palace of dclljrh.t? U^foi-e the entrance of sin, but which, since ihu: tatal iH^riod, is alas ! nothing but a theatre, a&J, if I may exprvss myself so, an universal scafibld on whici; he exercises the most terrible venc:eance, ani^ o\l:iMi> his UK^si dreadful executions. We must er. ;tr, noivova\ ir.to the genius of religion ; knowi::-: /';>.'. : r of il:-/: nt:'^ v.'hi'h Vr •^vert? ♦■? deliver "s fr-^'T: The Bo(m ofihe RighUous and the TVidUi. lOfi bondage ; the power of those succours which he af- fords to enable us to Iriuiuph over our depravity ; tbt excellence of revealed mysteries ; the value of thft pardon set before us ; the pleasure and peace pour^ eel into our souls ; and the magnificence of such ob- jects as the gospel proposes to our hopes. All thii requires vigilance, action, and motion. Nothing oC this can be acquired under the influence of indo^ lence, idleness, and ease. Nothing of this can be done in the circles of pleasure, at gaming tables, or in places of public diversion. What is faith? It is that disposition of our soult which brings into captivity every thought to the obedir ence of Christy 2 Cor. x. 5. and subjects them all to his decisions. In order to this, we must be convinced that God hath not left men to their natural darknea^ but hath bestowed on them the light of divine reve^ lation. We must examine this tievelation and under- stand the proofs of its divinity. We must collect in* to one body the fundamental truths included in it We must remove or invalidate those glosses which false teachers have applied to perplex the meaning of it. We must understand how to be deaf to eve- ry voice except that of eternal truth ; and to say from the bottom of a soul saturated with the love of this truth. Speak, Lord, for thy servants hear, 1 Saniw iii. 9. All this requires vigilance, action, andi.mo*- tion. Nothing of this can be acquired under the itt- fluence of indolence, idleness, and ease. Nothing of this can be done in circles of pleasure, at g^fflii^ tables, or in places of public diversion TOf . IV, 14 I b6 7%€ Iham of t&e Bighteaus and the Wicked. ' What is benevolence ? It is that disposition of soul wfaick engages us to consider our neighbour as our- aelves, and to study his interest as our own. In order to this we must examine both his temporal and spirit- ual wants. If be be in a state of indigence, we must provide for him, either at our own expence, or by excit- ing ia his favour the compassion of others. When he is Ignorant we must inform him, when in an error ubdeceive him, when he strays we must recal him, "Pfhen his spirits are overwhelmed, comfort him ; we must visit him when he is confined, edify him by oiir conduct, and encourage him by our example. All this demands vigilance, action, and motion. Nothing of this can be acquired under the influence of indolence, idleness, and ease. Nothing of this can be done in circles of pleasure, at gaming tables, or at places of public diversion. - What is repentance ? It is that disposition of our soul, which makes the remembrance of our sins a source of the bitterest grief. This supposes many self-examinations and self-condemnations, much re- morse of conscience, many teai-s shed into the bosom of God, many methods tried to preclude falling again into sins, the remembrance of which is so grievous to us. Above all, this virtue supposes re- coiripences^ in gi'eat. number. If we have propaga- ted any maxims injurious to religion, reparation must be made ; for how can we be said to repent of iiaving advanced such maxims, except we abjure ihem, and exert all our influence to remove such fa- tal effects as they have produced ? If we have injur- ed the reputation of a neighbour, recompence must The Daomofthe RigkUom and the Wieked. |p7 be made ; for how can we repent of having injured the reputation of a neighbour, unless we endeavour to establish it> and to restore as much credit to lofigL as We have taken away ? Repentance also includes restitution of property, ^' if we have taken any thing from any man," Luke xix, 8, All the exercises of this virtue require vigilance, action, and motion. Nonp of these are acquired under the influence of indolence, idleness, and ease. None of these are practised in circles of pleasure, at gaming tables^ or at places of public diversion. 2. Even the nature of (hose vices which the gofi- pel forbids, demonstrate that a life wasted in idle- ness is incompatible with salvation. He who hath well studied the human heart, and hath carefully ex- amined the causes of so many resolutions broken by the greatest saints, so many promises forgotten, so many vows violated, so many solemn engagements falsified, will acknowledge, that these disorders sel- dom proceed from malice, yea, seldom from a want of sincerity and good faith. You often fall iiito temptations which you mean to resist. Your mis- fortune is, that you ai'e not sufficiently prepared fcxr resistance. How, for instance, can we resist temptations to pr}de, unless we close every avenue by which it , enters into the heart ; unless we vakke serious reflections on the meanness of our original^ the uncertainty of our knowledge, the imperfeetioB of our virtue, the enormity of our crimes, and the vanity of our riches, titles, dignity, and life ? Again, how can we resist the sophisms of error, if we have only a superficial knowledge of religion, if we dp )08 T^ Dwm of the RigAttous and the Wicked. ttot build our faith on foundations immoveable and fittn. In fine, bow can we resist sensual temptations, unless we endeayour to dethrone our passions, unless We frequently and boldly attack and subdue them, ftteuage their fury, and force them as it were to bow t6 the domini The Doom of ike jRighteous and tlie Wicked^ 109 tain from the folly of men such incense as she ofiersto herself, such as she derives from her own immoderate' vanity and self-admiration. This is the prejudice of that soldier, who, at the end of a campaign, or at tfa^ conclusion of a peace, thinks he may employ the rest of his life in relating liis adventures, and indemnify himself for his former dangers and fatigues by an idle- ness which is often a burden to those who are wit- nesses of it, and oftener slill to himself, who petrifies in his own tales. This is the prejudice of a great many people, who have nothing else to say to their preachers, to all their casuists, and to all their reli- gious instructors, but^ I wrong nobody, I do no harm. Shall I venture to say my brethi-en. Why don't you do a little harm ? I have, I declare, more hope of a man who, in a high fever, becomes so delirious, and apparently so mad, that the strongest person can hardly hold him, than I have of a lethargic patient, all whose senses are stupified, his spirits sunk, and his natural warmth gone. I have more hope for a sinner, who, in a violent passion, breaks the most sacred laws, and tramples on the most solemn en- gagements, than I have for a man, indolent, motion^ less, cold, insensible to all the motives of religion, and to all the stings of conscience. My brethren, let us not deceive ourselves : there is something of consequence to do in every moment of a christian life. There are always in a christiaii life temptations to be resisted, and consequently in every moment of a christian life rve must overcome these temptations. All ages require action. In ev- ery stage of life we have temptations to surmount, 1 10 T%e Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. and in every stage of life we must overcome then*. We must overcome the temptations of childhood, the temptations of youth, the temptations of old a^e* All conditions require action. We must sur- mount some temptations in all conditions, and in all conditions we must overcome them. We must over- come the temptations of poverty, those of prosperi- ty, those of elevated posts, and those which belong to a state of obscurity, a sort of death, a kind of grave. All professions require action. There are in all professions temptations to be surmounted, and ID all professions we must overcome them. The iftatesman must subdue the temptations of his pro- fession, the soldier must vanquish the temptations of biS;, the merchant of his, and so of the rest. All situations require action. In all situations there are temptations to be conquered, and in all situations we must overcome them. We must get above the temptations of healthy those of sickness, and those of death. He that overcometh shall inherit all things. I am well aware that to preach this gospel is, in the opinion of some, to teach a severe morality, to mark out a discouraging course, to invite to unequal coQibats. This morality, however, will seem severe only to lukewarm christians. This course will ap- pear discouraging only to soft and indolent souls. These combats will seem unequal only to such as have no true courage, listless and dastardly souls* A real christian will be so inflamed with the love of his God, he will be attracted by so many powerful and com- fortable motives, above all, he will be animated with a desire so strong to obtain a victory, which infallibly TheDo(moJiheRight€(msandthe Widad. Ill follows the combat, that nothing will appear severe, nothing discouraging, nothing unequal in the cour^ of obtaining iU What dominion over his heart will not that voice obtain, which, proceeding from the mouth of ihe author aiid^nisher of his faith, addresses him, and says, ^' he that overcometh shall inherit all things," Heb. xii. 2. Christian soul, dost thou complain of the battle ? But in order to conquer you must jSght. The glori- fied saints were once warriors, and are now conquer* ors. Flesh and blood, earth and hell, were their en- emies. Faith and love, and all other christian vir- tues, were their armour. The clouds were their tri- umphal chariots. Angels, thousands of angels, " ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of tbqu- sands," Rev. v. 21. who wait continually before God, were their witnesses. The approbation of the Son of God, this rapturous declaration, " Well done, good and faithful servant," Matt. xxv. 23, well done,- faithful confessor, thou hast nobly endured the cross ; well done, martyr for morality, thou hast caused concupiscence to yield to the commandments of God ; these extatical declarations were their crown. Jesus Christ is their rewarder, and joys unspeakable and full of glory, peace of soul, tranquillity of con- science, riveis of pleasure, fulness of joy at Gocts right hand for evermore, the city that hath foundations, Jerusalem which is above, the heavenly country, nav heavens and a neiv earth, the society of angels, per- fect knowledge, refined virtues, ineffable sensations, sacred flames, God himself; Lo ! these are the re- cbmpence, these their great reward. He that over- 112 The Doom of the Righteous and t/ie Wicked. eometh shaU inherit aU things ; I wiU be his Gad^ and he shall be my son. II. The second prejudice which we are endeav- ouring to remove is this, A just Crod cannot impute to his creatures sins of infirmity and canstitutumy though kis creatures should be subject to them during the whole course of their lives. Against this we oppose these words of the apostle, the fearful and the unclean.^' The roost frequent excuse for impurity is constitu- tion. A certain constitutional turn is generally con- sidered as a ground of justification ; and it is eager- ly maintained, lest we should be obliged to be holy fpr want of excuses to sin, and least the deceitful pleasures of sin should be imbittered by remorse. Yet the unclean shall have their part in the lake that iumeth with fire and brimstone. As to fearfulness^ or timidity, what is there in us, that can be more pro- perly called human frailty than this ? Let us hear St. sTohn. Whom does he mean by the fearful ? I fear we shall find several classes of these in religion* There are many sorts of the fearful^ who shall have their part in the lake which burnelh with fire and brimstone. For example, a man who hears the name of God blasphemed, religion opposed, good manners attack- ed, but who hath not the courage to confess Jesus Christ, to say, I am a Christian, and to manifest Ips indignation against such odious discourses, such a man is fearjul^ he shall have no part in the inheri- * Ildf y0<$. Our translation renders it whoremongers — the old French WSicr^ paillards — Mr. Saurin more accurately imfiurc — i. c unclean. The Bixm rflhe MighUoits an/i the WkM* lid tclDce of the children of God. A man who sees his neighbour wounded by calumny and slander^ but who hath Hot courage to reprove the slanderer^ though in his soul he detests him/ such a man is one of the fearful^ who shall have no part in the inher- itance of the children of God* A magistrate who bath received from God the sword for the protection of oppressed widows and orphans, but who, terrified with the rank of the oppressor, sacrifices to hinl the rights of widows and orphans,. such a man is feafftd^, he shall have no part in the inheritance of the chil^ dren of God* . . But, though these notions of fearfulnes^ are just^ and though the proposition in our text is true in all these senses, it is clear, I think, by the circunlstan* ces in which St. John wrote the revelation, by the persecutions which he foretold, by the exhortdtioM which he addressed to believers to surmount thettlji and by many other considerations that the holy maa had particularly, and perhaps only, that fearfulness in view, which induces some to deny thsit truth for fear of persecution, of which they were tho* roughly persuaded. Of this sort of/eaT/W ^persons he affirms, " they shall have their part in the lake which burnetii with fire and brimstone/' ^ There is, I acknowledge, an- equivocal negs in thQ terms, or rather in the proposition, which may rendet this article^ obscure, and those which follow*more 8O4 When it is said, that " the fearful, the unbelieving, and the abominable, that murderers and poisoners shfldl have thejir ps^rt in the* lake which burneth with fire and brim9tQn^/* we are not io understand either such vou pf. 15 'the Bmm of tiu Righteous cmd the Wicked. ai have onc^ committed any of these crimes, or such as have lived some time in the practice of any one of them> but have afterwards repented. Were we to condemn to eternal flames ail such persons as these, alas ! who could escape ? Not Moses ; he was some* times Ufibdieving. Not St. Peter ; he was sometimes fearful. Not David; he committed murder, was guilty of lying f abomination, and impurity. N ot any of you, my brethren ; there is not one of you whose conscience does not reproach him with having done some act of fearfulness, unbelief, and impurity. Heav- en forbid, we should have to reproach any of yoa with forming the act into a habit ! St. John speaks then, in this place, of those only wlio live in a habit of these vices. But, I repeat it again, althou^ this evil habit may originate in hu- man frailty, yet it is certainly that sort of fearfulness which we have been explaining ; it is i\mt fearftdness with which tyrants inspire such as ought to confess the truth. Ask those of our brethren, for whom we litter the deepest sighs, and shed the bitterest tears, what prevents their giving glory to God, by yielding to the exhortations which we have so long addressed to them, and which we daily continue to address to them. They tell you it is human frailty. Ask that head of a family why he doth not flee to some place where he might enjoy such a public worship as he approves, and paiiake of the sacraments for which he pines. Human frailty makes him fear he cannot live without his dear children. Ask that lady, who . is in some sort mistress of her destiny, having neither "family nor connection, and being loaded with silver The Doom of ihe Righteous and ihe fHchtL 115 and gold ; ask her why she doth not avail herself of her independence to render homage to her reli^oQ. Human frailty makes her fear she cannot undergo the fatigue of a voyage, or bear the air df a foreign climate, or share ttie contempt generally cast on other refugees who do carry along with them repu< tation, riches, and honours. Ask that apostate^ what obliges him to '^ receive the mark of the image of the beast on his forehead," Rev. xiii. 16. Hu- man frailty makes him fear prisons, dungeons, and gallies. Yet what saith St. John of this feaffvlness inseparable from human frailty ? He saifh, it excludes people from the inheritance of the children of GodL The life of a christian is a continual warfare. Fear-? fulness is the most indefensible disposition ina soldier* Fearfulness in war is one of the vices that nobody dares to avow ; worldly honour either entirely erad^ icates it, or animates soldiers to subdue it. Want off courage is equally odious in religion. A timici christian is no more fit to figbt under the standard of the lion of the tribe ofJvdahy Rev. v. 5, than a world-> ling under that of an earthly hero. The fearful shaU have their part in the lake which bumeth with fire and brimstone. After this, my brethren, shall we plead our frail* ty ? Shall we draw arguments for lukewarmnesa from what ought to invigorate us ? Shall we cherish our indifiei^nce by such passages as these ? ^^ The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,'* Maffc XX vi. 41. '' The flesh lustetb against the spirijt, ana spirit against the flesb/' Gal v. 17. '' The Lqnt knoweth our frame^ he f^membereth tbfli we W9. baft }ld The Doom cf the Righteous and the Wicked. ihist !" Psal.ciii. 14. Shall we attempt to frustrate all the kind intentions of the holy Spirit, who makes lis £eel our frailty only for the sake of engaging us to. watch and fortify ourselves against it ? Believe me, the sentence pronounced by- St. John will never be revoked by such frivolous excuses ; but it will be always true that the fearful shaU have their part in pifi lake which burnetii with Jire and brimstone. - III. Let us attend to the third prejudice. Specw- fdoHve errors cannot be attended with any fatal conse-^ quences, provided we live uprightly as it is called^ and discharge our social duties. ^Nothing can be more specious than this pretence. Of all tyrannies, that . which is exepcised over the mind is the most oppo^ site to natural r^ht. Fires and gibbets, racks and tortures, may indeed force a man to disguise his > ideas, but they can never change them. The vio- lence of torments may indeed make hypocrites, but it never yet made good proselytes. We not only affirm that no human power can oblige us to consider ^ proposition as true which we know to be false, but we add, we ourselves have.no siich power over our own minds. It doth not de- pei|d on us to see, or not to see, a connection be^ jtween two ideas ; to assent to a truth, or not to assent to it. Evidence forces, demonstration carries us awav, Mo^over, although God justly requires us to em- ploy all the portion of genius which he hath given us, in searching after truth, yet his equity will not allow that we should not regard as evident what the l^ius which h# hath given i|s makes appear evi- The Boom qfthelHghkamaad the WkkuL 117 dent ; and tiiat W€ shCHild not regard as iaise what HA genius which he hath ffnn tti oiakes appear false. If it should happen, then, that a man, having exer- cised all the attention, and all the rectitude of which he is capable, in examining the most important ques- tions of religion, cannot obtain evidence enough.to determine his judgmrat ; if what appears, evident to others seem doubtful to him ; if what seems .demon- strative to them appear only probable to Jiim, he caur- not be justly condemned for unbelief. Consequentr ly, what we have called a prqvdke looks like the ve- ry essence of reason and truth \ and this proposition^ Sptcvlative errors cannot he attended with any fakd consequences J ou^i to be admitted as a first principle. My brethren, were it necessary to give our opin- ion of this article, we should boldly affirm, that the case just now proposed is imposaible. We are fully persuaded that it Is not possible for a man who hath a common share of sense, and who employs it all in examining whether there be a God in heaven, or whether the scripture be a divine revelation, to con- tinue in^ suspense on these important subjects. But our conviction afibrds us no proof to others. There are some truths which cannot be demonstrated ; and equity requires us to allege in a dispute only what is capable of demonstration. We confine ourselves to that class .of unbelievers whose infidelity of. mind proceeds from depravity of heart ;. and we affirm, that they are included in the sentence denounced by> our apostle,, and deserve to suffer it in all its rigour. Mow we have reason to form this judgment of an linfadiev^r,. unless he £>b8erTe.all the following cop- 118 TkeDomnrfthtSigl^aiMmdihe Wdusi. ditions, which we have never seen associated in atoy one person of this character. 1. He ought to have studied the great questions of religion with all the application that the capacity of hia mind, and the number of his talents could ad« mit. These questions belong to subjects the most interesting. To examine them carelessly, to offer them only, if I x^ay venture to speak so, to the sur-* fbce of his mind, is a full proof of the depravity of his heart. 2. We require an unbeliever to enter upon the discussion of these truths with a determination to sacrifice to them not only his strongest prejudices, but also his most violent passions and his dearest in- terests. If there be a God in heaven, if the chris- tian religion be divine, all the plans of our love and hatred, sorrow and joy, . ought to be regulated by these great truths. Every man who is not conscious of having examined them in such a disposition, and who hath obtained by his examination only doubts and uncertainties, bath reason to fear that the emo- tions of his senses and the suggestions of his passions have shackled, yea, imprisoned the faculties of his mind. 3. We require an unbeliever, who, notwithstand- ing all these conditions, pretends to be convinced that the ideas of believers are imaginary, to shew at least some inortification on account of this affected discovery. Mankind have the highest reason to wish that the hopes excited by religion may be well grounded; that we may be formed for eternity ; that we may enjoy an endless felicity after death* If TAeikomqftheSigitama»dthe Wicked. 119 these be ehimeras, behold man stripped of his most glorious privileges ! A person educated with other christians in the noble hope of immortality, and ob^ taining afterward proof that this hope is founded only in the fancies of enthusiasts ; a man rejoicing at this discovery ; a man congratulating himself on having lost a treasure sp rich ; a person unaffected with the vanishing of such inestimable advantages ; — such a man, I say> discovers an enormous depravity of heart. 4. We require an unbeliever to acknowledge, that religion hath at least some probability. A man who can maintain that the system of infidelity is demon* strative, that this proposition, There is no Ood, is evident; that this other is incontestible, Religian hath not one character of divinity ; a man who can maintain that a good philosopher ought not to retain in his mind the least doubt or uncertainty on these articles, that for bis own part he hath arrived at mathematical demonstration ; — such a man, if he be not the most extravagant of mankind, is, however, one of the most corrupt. 5. In fine, we require an unbeliever, on supposi* tion that his system were probable, that the plan of religion were only probable, that bad his a hundred degrees of probability and our's only one degree, I say, we require this unbeliever to act as if our Sys- tran was evidently true, and as if his was demonstra^ tively false. If our system of ^ith l3e true, all is hazarded when the life is directed by a system of in* fidelity; whereas nothing is hazarded if the life be regulated by religion, even supposing ther system of 120 The Doom of the Righteous and the WkketL religion groundless. An unbeliever who is not rea** dy to sacrifice bis dearest passions even to a mere probability of the truth of the doctrine of a future life, gives full proof of the depravity of his heart; ' Whether there be any one in the world, who, in spite of tiiese dispositions, can persuade himself that religion hath no character of truth, we leave to the judgment of God: but as for those who sin against any of the rules just now mentioned, (and how ma^ ny reasons have we to conclude that there are num- bers of this character!) they are included in the sentence of our apostle, and they deserve to feel its utmost rigour. ^' The unbelieving shall have: their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brim- stone." IV. Let us advert to the fourth prejudice. Reli- gions are indifferent We will not go through the va- rious sects of Christianity, and decide these litigious questions, Which of these religions are compatible with salvation ? Which of these religions are destruc- tive of it ? We will affirm only with our apostle, that "Idolaters shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire iand brimstone." We intend par- ticularly to wipe off' that imputation which the church of Rome constantly casts on our doctrine. Under pretence that we have never been willing to denounce a sentence of eternal damnation against members of the most impure sects, they affirm that, in our own opinion, people may be saved in their communitv, and this, thev sav, is one of the artt- cles of our faith. The Doom of the Righteous' and the Wicked. 122 This is a sophism which yoii have often heard at^ tribut€fd to a prince, who had united, as far as two such different things could be united, the qualities of a great king with those of a bad christian. Hair* ing a long time hesitated between the peaceable pos- session of an earthly crown, and the stedfast hope of a heatenly crown, his historian tells us, he assem-, bled some doctors of the Roman communion ' and some of ours. He asked the first. Whether it wew possible to be saved in the protestant communion ? They answered. No. He then asked the second. Whether it were possible to be saved in the Roman communion ? They replied they durst not decide the question. On this, the prince reasoned in this mariner. ** The Roman catholic doctors assure n^e " there is no ' salvation in the Protestant communion* "The Protestants dare not affirm that there is no '■ salvation in the communion of Rome. Prudence^ '' therefore, requires me to abandon the Protestant " religion, and to embrace the Roman ; because, in " the opinion of the Proteslarits, it is at the most '* only probable that I should perish in the church " of Rome, whereas, in the opinion of the Roman catholics, it is demonstrative that I should be dam- ned in the Protestant community." We will not attempt to investigate this point of history, by ex- amining whether these Protestant ministers betray- ed oiir religion by advancing a proposition contrary to it, or whether the historian betrayed the truth by allering the answer attributed to our ministers. Whatever we think of this historical fact, we affirm you IV. 16 cc 122 The Dwnkbfihe EigJdeous and the JVickeO. with St. John, that ^ Idolaters shall have their part ^iA the lake which bumeth with fire and brimstone.'* HoweTer^ we ouj^ht to make a cautious distinc- tfon concerning doctrines, as we do concerning jprecel^fs^ a distinction between questions of fact lind queistions of righU There is a question of ni^i in regard to precepts; as for example- It: a course of life opposite to the precepts of tiie gospel a damnable i^te? To this we reply. Undoubtedly it id. There ki also a question of fact, M for exaEnple-^Shall all those who follow such a eoiirse of life sufier all the rigour of damnation ? A wiiie man oi^ht to pause before be answers this ques- tiOB; because he doth not know whether a man who tiath spent one part of hi» life in a course of yice, may not employ the remaining part in repentance, and so pass into a state to which the pririleges of repentance are annexed. In like n)anner> there are questions of fact and question;^ of right in regard to ddctrines. The question of right in regard to tl^ present doctrine is this : Can we be saved in an idol- atrous community ? Certainly we cannot The ques- tion of fact is this : Will every member of an idola- trous community be damned? A wise man ought to suspend his judgment on this^ question, because he who had spent one part of his life in an idolatrous community, may employ the remaining part in re- penting, and consequently may i^are the privileges of repentance. Except in this case, according to our principles, " Idolaters shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." But, according to our principles, the Roman cat ho TTie Doemrftke Sighiems and the JfitM. 193 tic church is guilty of idolatry ; con^uratly, ac- cording to our principles,^ the members of Uie church of Rome, if they do not forsake that ccmi- munity, are among such as '' shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone.** If it be necessary to prove, that, according to oui? principles, the church of Rome is guilty of idolatry, the evidence is easily obtained Let us form a dis; tinct idea of what, agreeably to scripture, we caQ idolatry. To regard a simple creature as God su? preme; to render to a simple creature the worship that is due only to the supreme God, is what we caU idolatry* Now, according to our principles, the ' Qiembers of the church of Rome do render to • creature, to a bit of bread, such worship as is due only to the supreme God, By consequence accord-* ing to our principles, the members of the church of Rome are guilty of idolatry. They defend themselves by a somewhat speciouf, but groundless argument. It was employed by # man* who disgraced his name by abandoning the Protestant religion, though, thanks be to God, I hope, I and my family shall always be enabled to continue it in the list of sincere Protestants. His words are these : " Two or three articles, saith be, excited ^' strong prejudices in my mind against the chuncAi ^^ of Rome; transubstantiation, the adoration of th9 ^^ hoiy sacrament, and the infallibility of the churcht " Of these three articles, that of the adoration of ^' the holy sacrament led me to consider the church ^^ of Rome as idolatrous, and separated me from it# * Mr. Saurin of Paru* 124 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. ** communion. A book which I one day opened ** without design, instantly removed this objection. There I found a distinction between error of place ki» worship, and error of obfeeL The catholic wor- ships Jesus Christ in the eucharist, an object truly **, adorable. There is no error in this respect. If *^ Jesus Christ be not really present in the ieucharist; "the catholic worships him where he is not ; this is ** a mere error of ptace, and no crhiie of idolatry.'* A mere sophism! By the same argument the Israel- ites may be exculpated for rendering divine honours to the golden calf. We must distinguish error of place from error of object. The Israelite worships in the golden calf the true Cod, an object truly adorable. "To-morrow is a feast to the Lord, the God, O Israel, which brought thee up out of the lahd of Egypt," Exod. xxxii. 5, 4. There is no er- ror in this respect ; if God be not really present in the golden calf the Israelite worships him where he is not, a mere error of placcy and not the crime of idolatry. But St. Stephen saith expressly that this calf was ah idol. " They made a calf, and offered sacrifice unto the idol," Acts vii. 41. By conse- quence, error of place in worship doth not excul- pate men from idolatry. As, therefore, according t6 our principles, there is an error of place in the worship which Roman catholics render to their host, 6o also, according to our principles, they are guilty of idolatry. But are we speaking only according to our own priiiciples ? Have we seen any thing in the wilder- ^icss of Sinai which we do not daily see in the Ro- The Ihomof the Rightems arid the WickeB. 125 man an innumerable multitude, tired of rendering spirit-* ual worship to an invisible God, and demanding godi^ to he made, which shall go before them! Behold, m in the desert of Sinai, a priest forming, with his own hands, a god to receive supreme adoration ! See, a& in the desert, a little matter modified by a mortal, man, and placed upon the throne of the God oX heaven and earth ! Observe, as in the desert, the Is-y raelites liberally bestowing their gold and their jew-i els, to deck and adorn, if not to construct the idol!^ Hark! as in the desert of Sinai, priests publish pro- fane solemnities, and make proclamation, saying; To-morrow is a feast to the Lord! Behold, as in the desert, the people rising early on festivals to perform matins ! Hlearken ! criminal voices declare, as in Si- nai, ITiese are thy gods, or this is thy god, O Israet, who brought thee up out of the land of Egypt. What am I saying? I hear expressions more shocking stilL This is, O shame to Christianity ! O scandal in the* eyes of all true christians ! This is, yea, this bit of bread, on which a priest hath written, Jesus Christ the saviour of mankind, this is thy God. This is the God whom all the angels in heaven adore.—- This is the God by whom all things were created that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers. This is the God who up^ boldeth all things by the word of his power. This is the God, who in the fulness of time took mortal flesh. This is the God who, for thy salvation, O Is^ rael, Was stretched on the cross. This is he, who in 126 7%e Doom cfihe Righteous and the Wicked. the garden of Gethsemane said, ** O my Father, ifit be possible, let this cup pass from me," Matt, xxvu 39. who rose conqueror oyer death and the grave, who passed into the heavens, and at whose ascension the heavenly intelligences exclaimed, ^ liift up your iH^ds, O ye gates,evenljft them up,ye everlasting doors, fbatthe Lord of hosts, the King of glory m^y come in," pjk xxiv. 7, &c. O Judahy Judahy thou hastjustyied thy Hster Samaria. O ye deserts of Sinai, never did ye see any thing equal to what our weeping eyes be-* bold ! Who is on the Lord's side ? Let him come hither. Ye sons of Levi, separated to the service of the Lord, consecrate yourselves to-day to Jehovah. •!f— — But what are we about ? Are we interrupting the soft still voice of the gospel, to utter the thun« dering commands of Mount Sinai ? Shall we com^ xnand you to-day, as Moses did formerly the Levite9, ^ put every man his sword by his fide, and go in and out, from gate to gate, throughout the camp, and glay every man his brother, and every man his com- (mnion, and every man his neighbour ?"—^ Ah, Rome ! Were we to adopt this method, you could not re- proach us ; you could only complain that we were t6o ready to learn the lessons you have taught us, and too eager to imitate your bloody example ! Even in such a case we should have one great advantage over you ; our hands would grasp the murdering sword to destroy thee only for the glory of God, whereas thine hath butchered us for the honour of an idol ! We are not come with fire, and blackness, and darkness, and tempest ; . but Zion, though all mangled by thy cruelty, utters only cool exhorta- 7%e Doom tfthe Righteous and Ae Wicked, 127 tions, affectionate remonstrances, and tender intrea- ties; she fights only with the ** sword of the Spirit,^* and the " hammer of the word/' Eph. vL 17. Jerw ^xiii. 29. Ah poor people ! How long will you live without perceiving the golden candlestick which Jesus Christ hath lighted up in his church ! May God take away^that fatal bandage, which hides the truth from thine eyes ! Or, if this favour be refused us, may God enable us to take away from thee such of 0ur children as thou hast barbarously torn from the breasts of their mothers, in order to make them, like thine own, the children of a harlot. V. To proceed to the last prejudice. None but the vulgar ought to be afraid of committing certain crimes* Kings and statesmen will be judged by a particular laWi The greatness' of the motive that inclined them to mxmr age some affairs of state will plead their excuse, and secure them from divine vengeance. What reason would subjects have to complain, and, I will venture to add, how Insecure would princes and magistrates be, my brethren, if these pretences were well ground- ed; if they, who hold our lives and fortunes in their hands, were under no restraint in the abuse of sove^ reign power; and if, under our oppressions, we could not inwardly appeal to a supreme governor, and say, at least to ourselves, in private, " I saw un- der the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness w^s there, and the place of righteousness, that ini- quity was there. I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked; for there is a time there for every purpose and for every work," Eccles- iii. 16, 17. 128 7%e Doom of the Htghtems and the Wicked. ' " But if this be a claim of tyranny, it is not, how- ever, a privilege derived from religion. It is de- ^royed by St. John in the words of our text, " abom- niable, and murderers, and poisoners, and all liars, idiall have their part in the lake whidi burneth with fire and brimstone.'* We do not understand that the apostle speaks here only of such eminent persons as govern mankind. There are liars, murderers, pois- oners, and abominable of all ranks and conditions : but it is only in the courts of kings, it is on thrones, it is at the head of armies, and in the persons of sudi ^s are usually called heroes in the world, that crimes of this sort are ennobled: here altars are erected, and these detestable actions elevated into exploits worthy of immortal glory ; they are inserted in our histories, in order to be transmitted to the latest pos- ter it v. False protestations, by which a statesman, if I may speak so, obtains leave to lodge in the bosom of an ally, that he may be the better able to stab him to the heart; indeterminate treaties, and frivolous dis- iirictions between the letter and the spirit of a public instrument; these, which we call illustrious lieSy these are exploits worthy "of immortal glory ! Bloody Wars, undertaken less for the good of the state than for the glory of the governors ; cruel expeditions, tragical battles, sieges fool-hardy and desperate in a theory of the military art, but practicable in the eyes of ambition, or rather raving madness ; rivers discoloured with blood; heaps of human bodies loading the earth; these which we call illustrious murders, these are exploits thought worthy of im- TheDoomqfthe RighUims and the WiclML 129. mortal glory ! Dark machinations, in which treason supplies the place of courage, assassination of the right of war, secret poison of public battle ; these are actions truly abominable, yet these are thought worthy of immortal glory, provided they be crown- ed with success, and provided a historian can be found to disguise and embellish them ! A hisloriaiiy who can celebrate and adorn such heinous crimes, is^ if possible, more abominable than his hero who committed them. Shall we go back to the periods.of fable ? Shall wd take example from those nations which lived without hope, and without God in the world ? Shall we nar- rate ancient history ? Shall we publish the turpitujde of modern times ? Ye horrid crimes ! ye frightful actions ! ye perfidious outrages ! more fit for the hearts of inffBrnal furies than for the bosoms of man^ kind, depart into eternal silence, and never shew your ghastly features again ! Never were proposi* tions more unwari*antable than these : the vulgat only ought to be afraid of certain crimes. Kings and statesmen will be judged by a particular law. The greatness of the motive that inclined them to manage some affairs of state, will plead their ex- cuse, and secure them from divine vengeance. Why were so many commands given to prince^ concerning administration of justice, breaches ot peace, and declarations of war? To what ptirpose have so many Pharaohs been drowned, Nebuchad- ^ nezzars reduced to the condition of beasts, Herods devoured by worms, and strokes of divine vengeance fallen upon the proudest heads, except to tedtol^ 'UP tOL. IV, 17 •180 The Ihom (f the Righteans wd the Wicked. that no creature is so august, no throne so magnifi- cent, no dominion so invincible, as to free a creature from the necessity of obeying bis Creator ? What means that law which Ood formerly gave by the mouth of Moses? "When thou shalt seta king over thee, he shall not multiply wrves to himself, that his heart turn not away,*' Deut. xvii, 14, &c. He shall not amass for himself silver and gold. "And it shall be, vhen be sitteth upon the throne of his kingdom, that he shall write himself a copy of this law in a book, and it shall be with him, and he shall read therein all the days of his life, that he may learn to fear the Lord his Ged, to keep all the words of this law, and these statutes, to do them ; that his heart be not lifted up above his brethren, and that he turn not aside from the commandment to the right hand or to the left/* What mean these thundering words? "Thou profane wicked prince of Israel! thy day is come, thine iniquity shall have an end. 'Thus sailh the Lord God, Remove the diadem, and take off the crown ; I will overturn it, and it shall be no more," Ezek. xxi. 25— -27. In one word, what doth St. John mean by the words of my text ? AU lia^S and poisoners^ murderers and abominable shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fir^ and brimstone. It would be difficult, my brethren, for men who nevc^r saw any thing greater than the courts of prin- ces, a sort of earthly gods, to imagine a more pom- pous and venerable image than that which St. John exliibits here to- our view. He brings forth the ter- 4»)i|0 day in which the supreme lawgiver will bring \ Tht JDoam 0f the J^ighteous (md the Widud. 131 earthly judges to account for that power with which he intrusted tbenn, and of which most of them bav^ made a very criminal use. There/ all their flatter* ing titles will be laid aside, no more iSmperorf^ Monarchs, Arbiters of peace or war ; or rather^ there will these titles be repeated to mortify the pride, and to abate the insolence^ of every one who abused them. There, pale, trembling, and afraid will ap« pear those tyrants, those sdourges of Almighty Go(t those disturbers of mankind, who once made ih^ earth tremble with a single cast of their ejf es. Thefk will be produced the vexations they have caused, the unjust decrees they have pronounced, the familiea they have impoverished, the houses, the cities, the kingdoms which they have burnt to ashes. Then will be judged the famous quarrels of Alexander and Darius, Cyrus and Croesus, Pyrrhus and Fabrir cius, Hannibal and Scipio, Caesar and Potppey, il} decided, in Cato^s opinion, by the gods themselves in the battle Pbarsalia. And you, you t^ho hold the reins of this republic, you, in regard to whotq we often say to this people, " Let every soul be sub: ject unto the higher powers ; the powers that be arp ordained of God ; whosoever resisteth power, resistr eth the ordinance of God, and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation,*' Rom. xiii. 1, 2* you, our governors and lords, what appearances will you make in that great day, and what sentence will you then receive ? Ah ! if it be possible for you to be so intoxicated with your own grandeur as to for- jS^ the majesty of that God, w^ho placed you at the bead of this people, and so neglect the duties of 132 The Doom of the Rightemis and the Wicked. your station; if it be possible for the cries of the oppressed to sound in vain in your ears, and bribes to blind your eyes ; if it be possible for you to be- stow the rewards due to fidelity and courage upon solicitation and intrigue, to sacrifice the public in*- terest to private views ; if n personal pique dissolve a union essential to the good of the state ; if love of pleasure consume time devoted to the administration of justice; if the tears of Sion in distress be not ten^ derly wiped away ; if religion and good manners be decried, and trampled on with impunity; if Lord's days and public solemnities be openly profaned ; if, in a word, Christianity be sacrificed to worldly poli- icy, what will your condition be ! God grant this people may always be as happy in the character of their governors as in the gentle con- stitution of their government! May a visible and bountiful benediction rest upon those, who, " in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, shine as lights in the world!" Phil. ii. 15. Never, never may any be at the head of the state who are unworthy of being members of the church ! God grant we may behold you who are intrusted with the public wel- fare> models worthy of our imitation : and by imita- ting your conduct in this life may we follow you Into the world of glory ! Amen. To God be honor S,n4 glory for ever. Amen. SERMON V. God^s Controversy wi^ Israeh MicAH tL 1, 2, 3. Hear ye now what the Lord saith. Arise^ contend be- fore the mountains^ and let the hills hear thy voi€t^ Hear ye, O mou/ntainSy the Lord's controversy, and ye strong foundations of the ear A : for the Lord hath a controversy with his people, and he mil pkad with Israel. O my people, what have I done unto thee? and wherein have I wearied thee? testify against me. xHE wickedness of Sodom was so abominable, when God was about to consume it by fire, that we can never remark without astonishment his conde^ scensipn to Abraham, when he gave him leave to plead for that detestable city. Abraham himself was amazed at it. He was afraid of inflaming that anger which he endeavoured to abate. ** Oh!*' said he, " let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak. Behold now, I, who am but dust and ashes, have ta- ken upon me to speak unto the Lord," Gen. xviii. 30, 27. Yet God heard him, and answered him, and * This Sermon was preached on a fast-day, at the opening of a campaign in the year 1706. 134 Ood*s Cantroverstf with Israel agreed to spare Sodom, and to pardon an innum^ra* ble multitude of guilty persons, on condition a small number of righteous people could be found among them. Abraham asked, " Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city, wilt thou not spare the place, for the fifty righteous that are therein ?" God replied, " If I find in Sodom fifty righteous, I will spare all the place for their sakes.'* Abraham continued : " Peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty ? Peradventure there shall be forty, perad- rentiH'e thirty, peradventure twenty, peradventure tin," Gen. xviii. 24, 26, 28, 29, &c. God heard Abraham, and sufiered him to proceed to the utmost of his compassion, waiting, if I may speak so, till bis servant gave the signal for the destruction of So- dom. So true is it, that his essence is love, and that mercy and grace are the strongest emanations of his glory! Exod. xxxiv^ 6. But, my brethren, if we admire the goodness of 6bd, when he suffers only one woi-m of the earth to reason against his judgments, and to plead the cause of those criminals whose ruin was determined, what amotions, pray, ought the objects set before us in the jtext to produce in our minds to day ? Behpld ! in the words of my text, behold! God not only permitting the sinner to plead his cause before him, and su&- pending his sovereign rights, but behold him offers ir^ himself to plead before the sinner, behold hitn descending from his tribunal, accounting for his con- duct^ and submitting himself not only to the judg- ment of one of his creatures, but proposing to do so to us alL ^* Hear ye what the Lord saith. Arise, Oa^s Controversy m(k Israd. 135 contend thou before the mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. Hear ye, O mountains, the Lord's controTerdy> and ye strong foundations of the earth; for the Lord hath a controversy with his people, and he will plead with Israel. O my peopl^ what have I done unto thee ? and wherein have I wearied thee ? testify against me." This is the unheard of action which we are goin^ to exhibit to you, in order to excite in you such sentiments of contrition and repentance as the so- lemnity of the day requires of you, especially now that the arm of the Lord is lifted up and stretched out over your heads, shajl I say to destroy or to defend you? At such a time can it be necessary to prepare your minds, and solicit your attention ? If I have yet any more wishes to form for your felicity, I coior jure you by the walls of this church, now indeed standing, but doomed to be rased by the enemy ; by the interests of your wives and children, whose death is determined ; by your regard for your civil and religious liberties; in tlie name of your magis- trates, generals, and soldiers, whose prudence and courage.cannot succeed without tlie blessing of the Almighty ; I conjure you to address yourselves fa this exercise with attentive minds and accessible hearts. May all worldly distractions, may all secu- lar anxieties, trouUesome birds of prey^ always alighting on our sacrifices, O may you all be driv- en away to-day ! God grant we may be 2g/2 ohm with him ! O Lord, help us to repair the breaches made in our Jerusalem, to prevent others yet 336 Qod^s Controversy with Israel. threatened, to engage thee, the God of armies, on our side, and (o draw down by our prayers and tears thy benedictions on the state and the church ! Axnen. > Before we enter into the spirit of our text, let us teke a cursory yiew of the terms ; each deserves our attention. ^' Hear ye what the lord saitb. Hills, mountains, ye strong foundations of the earth, hear ye what the Lord saith." What loftiness in these terms ! This is to prepare the mind for great things. It is a bad maxim of orators to promise much to auditors. The imagination of the hearer often out- flies that of the speaker. Artful rhetoricians choose to surprise and amaze their hearers by ideas new and unexpected, so that the subjects of their orations may appear sublime by being strange. But hath the holy Spirit need of our rules of rhet- oric, and is the everlasting gospel subject to our ora- torical laws? There is no proportion between the human soul, to which the prophet addresseth himself, and the Spirit of that God who animates the pro- phet. How great soever your expectation may be, your expectation will be always exceeded. Great objects will not be wanting to exercise your capa- cities, your capacities indeed may want ability to investigate them. ** The thoughts of God will al- ways be higher than your thoughts, as the heavens will always be higher than the earth," Isa. Iv. 8, A prophet frequently seems at first to present only one object to view ; but on a nearer examination his .one object includes. many: he seems at first only to speak of a temporal deliverer, but he speaks of the God^s Controversy wtih IsrmL 137 Messiah ; at first the present life seems only intend' ed, but at leDgth we find eternity is contained in hii subject. Our prophet had reason, therefore, to ejr claim, '^Mountains, hills, ye strong foundations of the earth, hear ye.'V ^.^ " Hear ye what the Lord saith,"' adds the prophet. It is the Lord, who speaks by the mouths of his ser* yants ; to them he commits his treasure, the mia^i! try of reconciliation. These treasures, indee4> ara in earthen vessels : but they are treasures of salT^r tion, and 'whatever regards salvation interests yoiL Ministers are frail and feeble ; but they are minia- ters of the Lord, and whoever comes from him ought to be respected by you. When we censures a sinner, when we make our places of worship resound with Anathemas^ Maranatha^, instantly we excite murmuring and complaints. My brethren, if at any time we stretch these hands to seize the helm of Hae state, if we pretend to counteract your sound civil polity, if under pretence of pious purposes we en- deavour officiously to intermeddle with your domes- tic affairs, mark us for suspicious and dangerous pei-sons, and drive us back to our schools and stu- dies ; but when we are in this pulpit, when we preach nothing to you but what proceeds from the mouth of God himself, and no other l^ws than those which come from his, throne, be not surprised wljen we say to you. Hear us with respect, hear us with attentioo^ " We are ambassadors for Christ. The Lord hath spoken." This is our coniipission, these are o\ff. credentials. ^ VQL. iv» 18 1 38 God's Controversy mth Israel. ""Arise, contend thou before the mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. Hear ye hills, hear ye mountains, hear ye strong foundations of the earth, h^ar ye what the Lord saitb/' When God speaks, all oaght to attend to what he says. He causes the most insensible creatures to hear his voice. " The voice of the Lord is powerful, the voice of the Lord is full of majesty, the voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon, it maketh Sirion to skip like a yo0ng unicorn, it divideth the flames of fire, it shak- eth the wilderness, it maketh the forests bare," Psal. xxix. 3, &c. The whole universe knows this voice, the whole universe submits to it. The voice of God does more than I have mentioned. It reigns in empty space ; " It calleth those things which be not as though they were. By it the heavens, and all their host, were made. God spake, and it was done ; be commanded, and it stood fast," Rom. iv. 17. There is but one being in nature deaf to the voice of Godjthat being is the sinner. He, more insensible than the earth, and harder than the rocks, he refuseth to lend an ear. The prophet is forced to address him- self to inanimate creatures, to hills and mountains, and strong foundations of the earth. " Hear ye hills, hear ye mountains, ye strong foundations of the earth," and put my people to the blush. " The ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth not ,know, my people do not consider," Isa. i. 3. "Israel hath forgotten the God that formed him, and is unmindful of the rock that begat him/' Deut. xxxii. 18. . God^s Catitroversy with Israel 139 Alas ! how exactly does Israel now resemble Israel in the days of Micah ! When we speak for God, wp generally observe absent minds, wandering eyes, and insensible liearts. In vain we say, ** The Lord hath spoken, hear what the Lord saith." It does not aig* nify, the answer given us is, " Who is the Lord, that I should obey his voice ?" Each wants a gospel of his own. Each seizes the sacerdotal censor* A rigid morality is not suited to the taste of our audi* tors. Every sinner says of the preacher of it, a& 9n impious king once said of Micaiah; " I hate him, for he doth not prophecy good concerning me, but evil/* I Kings xxii. 8. Henceforth/ihen, we must addrciss ourselves to these arches, and pillars, and walls : Our auditory is iuvsensible. "The Lord hath a controversy with liis people.'* What a controversy, my brethren ! Never was such a cause heard before any judges. Never was a court concerned in an affair of such importance. The controverting parties, the manner of pleading, and the matter in dispute, are all worthy of attention. The parties^ who are they ? On the one part the Lord of universal nature, he '* before whom all na^ lions are as a drop of a bucket ; he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth> and considereth the inhabitants thereof as grasshoppers ; he that weighed the moun- tains in scales, and the hills in a balance,'* Isa. xl, 15, 22, 1 2. On the other part, man, Israel, the church. So that it is a husband pleading against his wife^a parent against his children, the Creator against bis creature. Who ever heard of a c6ntroversy between J>arties more worthy of consideration ! 140 God^s Ckmbroursy with Israel. . The manner of pleading tMs cause is yet more Amarkafale. " The Lord hath a controversy with his people." Who can coolly hear this language? At tiie sound of these words conscience takes fright, the sinner flees to the clefts of the rocks, and calls to the Inountaips to fall on him, and corer him from the wrath of Jehovah. Each exclaims ytvith a prophet, ** Who among us can dwell with devouring fire ? Who among us can dwell with everlasting burn- ings?" Isa. xxxiii. 14, Each cries with the ancient Israelites. " Let not God speak with us, lest we cUe,*'^^ Exod. XX. 19. and with Job, " How should man be just with God ?" chap. ix. 2. But, peace be to your consciences ! God doth not come to you to- day with the dreadful ensigns of nis vengeance. If h^ intends to cast the dinner, it is not by angry re- proaches ; but by reproofs of his love. Hear him. ** O my people, what have I done unto thee? where- in have I wearied thee ? testify against me." .He knows, you have nothing to allege : but he means to affect you by generous motives ; he means to excite in you that repentance, which is not to be repented of, that godly sorrow, that broken and contrite heart, which is of inestimable value in his sight. As for you who have need of thunder and light- ning, all you who must have hell opened under your feet, all you whose souls are insensible to motives of justice and equity, depart from this assembly. We are not preaching to you to-day. We speak to the people of God. " The Lord hath a controversy with his people. The Lord will plead with Israel." We address such of you as have hearts to feel these GWs Controversy mill Israel. 141 lender expressions, expressions so tender that no- thing in uninspired poets and oratorscan equal thena; ^ O my people, what have I done unto thee ? and wherein have I wearied thee ? testify against me.'*^ In jGne; the muUer of this controversy is remark- aUe ; it is the whole conduct of man to God, and the whole conduct of God to man, God is willing to. exercise his patience to hear the complaints of big people, but he requires in return, that his peoplte should hear his against them. This is a general view of our text ; but are gene- ral observations sufficient oa a subject that merits the most profound meditation ? We must go into the matter; we must go even to the bottom of this con* troversy ; we must hear both parties, how dispro- portional soever they may be, and how improper soever it may seem to confront them ; we must ex- amine whether the fault lie in God or man. For- give, O God! if worms of the earth presume to agi- tate the rash question, and to plead thus in thy pre- sence ! Thy condescension will only display thy gli> ry. ** Thou wilt be justilBcd when thou speakest^ and be dear when thou judgest,** Psal. li. 4. Let us first hear what complaints man hath to brin^ against God, and what God hath to answer. Then let OS see what complaints God hath to bring againM man, and what man can allege in his own defence. But, as we have already hinted, you will not be sur- prised, my brethren, if we somethnes forget the prophet and the Jews, to whom he spoke, and con- sider the text as it regards christians in general, and this congregation in particular. 142 God's Controversj/ ivilh Israel That a creature should complain of liis Creator should seem a paradox. Of him every creature holds his life, motion, and being. The air he breathes, the animation of his frame, the sun that gives him light, the earth that bears him up, are all emanations of the goodness of his Creator. Yet, strange as it may appear, it is certain, man complains of God. ,To set the Deity at nought, to trample his laws under foot, to blaspheme bis holy name, to harden under the tenderest marks of his love, as we do every day,, is not this to murmur? Is not this to complain ? Let us hear these complaints. You have your wish, my brethren^ and are all of you to-day in the condition, in which Job desired to be, when, in an excess of grief, he uttered these emphatical words, ** O that I knew where I might find God ! I would go even to his seat. I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. I would know the words which he would answer me, and un- derstand what he would say unto me," chap. xiii. 3 — 5. Order this cause, mortals, prepare these ar- guments, God is ready to hear you. When we en- ter into our own hearts, we find we are apt to com- plain of God on three accounts ; his law seems too severe ; his temporal favors too small ; and his judg- ments too rigorotis. Let us follow man in these three articles. The law^s of God seem too severe. " My people, what have I done unto thee?" To this, concupi- scence answers, I choose to domineer in the world ; but God would have me be humble, wash the feet of his disciples, " esteemkolhers better than myself," Godts Controversy with Israel* 1 43 Pliil. ii. 3. and place myself, so to speak, in the meanest post in the world. I like to amass riches ; but God requires my " conversation to be without covetousness>" Heb. xiii. 5. and he would have me learn of lilies and sparrows to confide in his provi- dence. I love lo live well, and to fare sumptuously every day ; but God requires me to be sober, to " keep under my body, and bring it into subjection," 1 Cor. ix. 27. and instead of living to myself, to take from voluptuousness, and expend what I take in charity to others. I love to divulge the vices of a neighbour, and to erect my^reputation on the ruin of his ; but God threatens to exclude slanderers from his kingdom. In a word, the law of God controuls every passion of my heart. Ah ! why did God give me laws so opposite to my inclinations, or why did he give me inclinations so opposite to his laws ? I understand you, sinners, you wish God had formed religion, not on the efemal rales of "right- eousness and judgment, which are the base of his throne," Psal. xcvii. 2. but on the suggestions of such pa'ssions as animate you. Religion, intended by its wisdom to free the world from the vices that disfigure it, should have revealed, in your opinion^ more ample methods of committing these very vices, and provided for the hardening of su/^h consciences as the justice of God means to terrify. You wish that the sovereign God, by a condescension incom- patible with the purity of his perfections, had imbib- ed, as it were, the wicked views and inclinations of sinful man, sinful man being so base and so wicked 144 God^s Controversy with Israd. 88 to refuse to coDform to the holiness of the supreme God. But hast thou, man, sufBcienUy reflected on this Article? Thou complainest of the laws of God. — Who art thou? Whence dost thou come? Who ^ve thee thy being? Is not God thy governor? This firmament before thine eyes, that infinite space in which thine imagination is absorbed, those heav- enly bodies revolving over thy head, the earth be- neath thy feet, is not this the empire of God ? And you, vile creature, confined in a corner of the mii- terse, you house of c^iy, you worm of the earth, you nothing, lighter than vanity itself, you, who ftre only a vain phantom, walking in a vain shew% do you murmur at the laws of God ? would you be Xiord of religion ? would you either say to God, Command this, forbid that, or would you mount his throne, and give the universe law ? What presump- tion ! You complain of the laws of God. Are not these laws just in themselves ? God requires you to love him. Is it possible to refuse obedience to this just command, considering the eminent perfections, the majesty, and benevolence of him who requires your esteem ? God requires you to love your neighbour. And would it be right that you, made of the same dust as your neighbour, and doomed both to return to dust again; would it be light for you, under pre- tence of some exterior advantages in your own con- dition, to cherish a self-complacence that would de- base the dignity of human nature, and teach man- kind to estimate their worth by external appenda- Ood^s OmtrouTsy nnth Israel. . liS ges ? Would it be fair in civil society that dach shduld contribute to your happiness, that the artist should assist you by his industry, the scholar by hislearti^ ing, the statesman by his wisdom, the soldier by bin courage, and that you, a simple spectator of all these things, should think of nothing but enjoying your« self at the expense of all mankind? Would this be right ? Are your complaints well grounded ? " My people, what have I done unto thee ? wherein have I wearied thee ? testify against me." You complain of the laws of God. But what 10' the design of all these laws ? Is it not to make you as happy as possible ? Judge again yourself. Ima** gine yourself violating all the divine laws, having no veneration for God, no love for your neighbours, being haughty, overbearing, a liar, and a slanderer; Imagine yourself, on the other hand, humble, .pious^ * zealous, patient, charitable. Is it not clear, tlfat, iDf spite of the violence of your passions, you would like yourself best in the condition last mentioned? If your passions have so blinded your mind as to in- capacitate you for entering into these reflections^' imagine two men, the one animated with the vides,^ and the other with the virtues just spoken of, and if you can prefer the vicious man before the virtuousi I agree you shall complain of the laws of God. You complain of the divine laws. But are not these laws infinitely proper to make you happy in this world ? In what slate would the human heart b^ what bloody scenes would it revolve, were God to give it up to the infernal passion of envV, to fexfces^ sive sensuality, to the miserable anxieties of avarice^ TGI.. IT. 19 146 Ood^s (htUravprsy with Israd. or to the 4«iimikuous rage of ambition ? Imagine ^ society where robbery, assassination, and adultery were allowed ; a society in which self-interest was the only motive, passion the only law, and no bounds set to sin but such as ambition chose; where the magistrate w^as oppressing the people, the people re- ToitiDg against the magistrate ; where friend was be- traying friend, and the receiver stabbing his bene- factor ; would you consent to live in such a society ? Imagine an opposite plan, stretch your fancy as fer as possible, and the further you go the more fully will you perceive, that nothing can be so well contrived to produce present human felicity as the divine law; and that, even supposing some particu- lar .cases, in which obedience is attended with loss, 90iction, and pain, yet in all cases there is an am- ple indemnity both in a hope of future happiness, and in an enjoyment of present pleasure arising from a consciousness of real rectitude and upright self-ap- probation* You complain of the laws of God, But doth not God exem^pifiy all these laws himself? he commands you to be just Is not he Wmself just? Righteous- ness and judgmenty justice and equity, are the hoses of his throne. He requires you to be humble. But although thk virtue may seem repugnant to the di- vine nature,, yet we have bebeld the prodigy of God humbling himself, of one, who " thought it not robbery to be equal with God, making himself of no reputation, and taking upon himself the form of a servant !" PhiL ii. 6, 7. God requires us to be benevolent. Is not he love / Aie we not all over- •m • Chd's C&ffUroversy with Israel. 147 whelmed with his favours ? Hath he not giten us his Son? O admirable beauty of religion! My brethren,' it transforms a creature into the image of his Crea- tor ! O matchless condescension of the God we adore ! He unites true happiness to an imitation of his attributes, and invites us to participate hiB happi- ness by partaking of his holiness. • You complain of the laws of God. But what does God require of you but to endeav5ur to please him ? Doth he not promise to accept your sincere obedience, though it be accompanied with many frailties and great imperfections ? Hath he not enga- ged to assist you by the essential aid of the holy Spirit? Brethren, enter into your own liearts, list- en to the suggestions, the joys, the hopes excited in your consciences. This is the hand of the Lord drawing you; this is the light of heaven shining in your hearts; this is the holy S^pvrii converting the sovly Psal. xisc. 7. Should God descend and stand among you, amidst thunders and fires like those of Mount Sinai ; should he stand among you surround- ed with blackness^ and darkness^ and tempest; should he, from the centre of all these formidable ensigns of dreadful majesty, declare, Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the hook of the law to do therrii Gal. iii. 10. human frailty might serve for an excuse; but he speaks as we said before, to his people^ to them he presents himself with all the attractives of grace. Ah ! were you to deplore your depravity ! Were you to say in the bitterness of your soul, ** O wretch- ed man that I am! who shall deliver me from the^ 148 Oof$ (knUrwersy mih Istad. \foAy of ib|s death ?** Rom. viL 24. God himself ^uld comfort you, he would tell you, that " he W0Uld not break a bruised reed, nor quench the tmoking flax/' Matt xii. 20. If, sinking under a tense of sin, you were to cast yourself at his feet, and iaiplore his assistance, he would give you his holy Spirit, who, conveying light and strength through all your heart, would ei-adicate all your sins. But you love sin, you thrust back the mighty hand itretched out to help you, you " grieve the holy Spirit of God, turn the grace of God into lascivi- ousness," £ph. iv* 30, Jude 4. and then complain Ibat the laws of God are too severe. You consider God the lawgiver as a mortal enemy, who attacks all jjfQWr pleasuri^s. Ah ! how unjust are your com- flaints 1 ** O ray people, what have I done unto Ihee ? Are nay commandments grievous, is not my yoke easy, njy burden light ? Am I not mild and lowly in 1^1^ ? O my people, what have I done unlo thee? (ind wherein have I wearied thee ? testify against me." The second class of human complaints against God regard him as the governor of the world. Man com- plains of providence, the economy of it is too nar- tow and confined, the temporal benefits bestowed are too few and partial* 'Let us do justice to human nature, my brethren. If we cannot justify this complaint, let us acknow- ledge there is an appearance of equity in it. This complaint, we allow, hath some colour. God pre- sents himself to ud in religion under the tenderest re- totions, as a friend, s^ brother, a parent, a husband ; A« tarih belongs to tbid friend, md the fulness there- CMs Conircversy with IsmeL 149 tf is at the disposal of this God, and a single act of his will would instantly fill our houses with pleasura^ riches, and honours^ yet he leaves us in misery and indigence, and it would be in vain to search the JSew Testament for a single passage to ground a hope that we should become rich, reputable, and honouraUe in the world by sincerely practising the precepts of Christianity. If this complaint at first sight seem unanswerable in the mouth of a Christian, it is precisely from the mouth of a Christian that it cannot come without ex- treme ignorance and ingratitude. If you be Chris- tians you must be so affected with the numberless benefits bestowed on you, that it is inconceivable how an idea of such temporal blessings as you think necessary to complete your happiness, can make siich an impression on your mind, or find a place in your heart. Being Christians, you are persuaded that God hath '* blessed you with all spiritual bles- sings in heavenly places in Christ. That he hath chosen you in him before the fotindation of the world, that he predestinated you unto the adoption of chil- dren by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will," Eph. i. 3, &c. Being Christians, you believe, that " God so loved you, that he gave his only begotten Son, that you believ- ing in him should not perish, but have everlasting lifcV John iii. 16. As you are christians, you are persuaded, that for your sakes the Lord hath " shak* en the heavens, the earth, the sea, and the dry land/' and " hath sealed you, and given you the earnest of the Spirit in your hearts,*' Hag. ii. 6. 2 Cor. v3«> ISO GoJts Controversy wiA Israel. Being christians, you ai*e convinced that the public ministration of the divine word, the ordinances of religion so often administered to you, are evidences of the watchful care of that providence over you, which gives " some apostles, some pastors and teach- etB, for the perfecting of the saints, and for the work of the ministry ,'* Eph. iv. 11, J 2. You believe, fof you are christians, that, when you die, heaven wfll be opened to you, as it was formerly to Ste- phen; that angels will uphold you in your agony, as they once comforted your Redeemer ; and that, how difficult soever, the race may be, you shall sur- mount all, and finish with a song of ektatic triumph. Being christians, you believe there are in your Fa- Aer*s house many mansions^ that Jesus Christ is gone to prepare a place for youy and thnt, throughout all eternity, your happiness shall suffer no diminution. Yea, being christians, you are already quickened with Christy and even now sit with him in heavenly jpiaces, Epbes. ii. 5, 6. Is it imaginable, that people enjoying so many advantages, favoured with so many benefits, and el- evated with such glorious hopes, should complain for want of a few temporal gratifications, or spend a thought on such momentary accommodations as tire the unruly passions of worldlings ? This is not all. If the morality of Jesus Christ be thoroughly examined, it will be found almost in- compatible with worldly prosperity. Such is the slate of the human heart, that either Jesus Christ must alter his religious laws, in order to put us in- ^the. x>ossession of temporal prosperity, or he must Crod's Omtrowrsy with Israd. 151 deprive us of temporal, prosperity in order to es-^ tablish his morality in our hearts. You wish, you say, that he had promised , pleasures to moderation, riches to charity, and worldly grandeur to, humility* Instead of gratifying your wishes, he sees it neces- sary to the being of your moderation to remove from you the dangerous snares of pleasures ; he doth not make the charitable man rich, lest riches should excite avarice; and he does nqt bestow worldly grandeur on the humble, lest it^ sho.uld diminish bis humility^ This is a well known truth of universal experience. It is generally seen, that every tempo- ral good conveys a mortal poison into the heart of its possessor. The temptations attending prosperi- ty are infinitely more difficult to overcome thao those which belong to adversity. He who bath tri- umphed over persecutors, executioners, and tyrants^ hath not unfrequently fallen a prey to pride, luxury, and intemperance, when objects proper to kindle these passions have presented themselves to him. i Temporal prosperity is not only opposite to our duty ; but it is for this very reason hostile to our happiness. Had God given us a life full of charms, we should have taken little thought about another. It is natural to be delighted with an agreeable situa- tion, and whatever attaches us to the world, cools^ our ardour for heaven ; the inward man is renewed, as tJie outward man pejri^ieth, and faith commonly grows as fortune decays. When the dove first flew out of the ark, finding nothing but widd and rain, and rolling waves, she returned to the ark for shel-- ter and rest; but when, in her secondfligbt, she saw 1 52 Chd^s Conirimrsy with Israel. plains and fields, there she alighted and staid. Behold^ nay soul, thine own image. When the world exhib- its to thy view prosperity, riches, and honours, thou art captivated with the beauty of the enchantress, ai^ fallest a prey to her charms. But when the world puts on the gloom of poverty, anxiety, and misery, thou turnest thine eyeg toward heavan, and seekest happiness in its natural source. Even ai? things are now, in spite of all the distre sses that be- long to life, we find it difiicult to detach our affec- tions from the world : but what Would be the case, if all prospered according to our wishes ? Speak to a man who talks of dying, exhaust philosophical and religious arguments to determine him to die con- tented ; place him between two objects, heaven and earth, the world be is leaving, and the eternal state to which he is going : describe to him on the one hand the vanit}^ and uncertainty of worldly enjoyments, tell him of the anxieties, the indigence, poverty, and nulli- ty of every thing here; then open heaven to him, shew him happy angels for his companions, " the Lamb in the midst of the throne to feed him, and lead him in- to living fountains of eternal joy," Rev. vii. 17. Amidst so many just reasons for his detachment from the world, this world is yet dear to him ; this life,, this short life, this indigent life, this life which is nothing but vanity and deception, tliis life appears more desirable than heaven, and all its eternal glory. If, then, iri spite of so many disagreeables in this life, it be so hard to quit it with content, what would be our condition were God to give us a firmer health, a longer life, and a more flourishing state of Chd's Controversy mith IsradL 1 S3: afiaifs ? What would be our condition, wete there- no mortifications in high rank, no uncertainty in : friendships^ no vicissitudes ii> fortune ? . Our third complaint against iGod regards the rig^ our of his Judgments. The Jews of Mieah's time had- experienced tliis in many cases, and the prophets threatened more. " Behold ! the Lord cometh out ' of his place, and w ill tread upon the high places of the earth. The mountains shall be molten linder' liim^ and the Tallies shall be cleft before him. There- fore I will wail and howl, I will go stript and naked> I will make a wailing like the dragons, and make a mourning as the owls, for her wound is incurable. Jenisalem shall become heaps* Zion shall be plow- ed as a field," chap. i. 3, 4, 8, 9, and iii. 12. We have been treating of our text as it regards you, my brethren, we will therefore leave the proph* et and his counlrynren, in order ta give you full lib- erty to exhibit your complaints, and to say now, lA the presence of heaven and earth, what ills God hath inflicted on you- " O my people what have I done unto thee?" Ah, Lord! how many things hast thou done to us ! Draw near, ye mourning ways of Zion, ye desolate gates'^of Jerusalem, ye sighing priests, •- ye afflicted virgins, ye deserts peopled with captives, ye disciples of Jesus Christ, wandering over the face of the whole earth, children torn from your parents, prisons filled with confessoi'S, gallies freighted with martyrs, blood of our countrymen shed like watei-, carcases once the venerable habitation of witnesses . for religion, now thrown out to savage beasts and birds of prey> . ruins of. our churches, (^ust, ashes,. TOL. IV. 20 J^ ' CMPi Ckniitr^efsy mth Israel. tfd remaipfi of bouses dedicated to our God, firag, liieks^ gibbets, punishments till now unknown, draw ni^h hither, and give evidence against the Lord. Itf y brethren, if we consider God a sa Judge, what a number of reasons may be assigned to prove the piftaty of all the evils that he hath brought upon us ? ^^fibe abuse of his fevours^ the contempt of his word, the slighting of all the warnings given us by his min- iiters, the pride and worldly-mindedness, the luke- warmness and indifference, and many other odious vices, which preceded our miseries, are evidences too convincing that we deserved all ; and tliey ought to make our complaints give place to the sorrowful, but sincere confession, which a prophet puts in the mouth of the church, ** The Lord is righteous, for I have rebelled against him," Lam. i. 18. But as we said, that in this text God is to be con- sidered as a father, we affirm all these chastisements, even the most rigorous of them, are perfectly con- sistent with this character. It was his love tl^at en- gaged him to employ sych severe means for your benefit. You know, my brethren, and you know but too well, that the ease with which the enjoyment of the presence of God is obtained, too often lessens the favour in our eyes. I appeal to experience. Re- collect the time so dear to you, when the gospel was preached to you in your own country, and when God, with a bounty ti-uly astonishing, granted you both spiritual and temporal prosperity. Did you, I appeal to your consciences, did you value tbese bles- sings according to their real worth ? Were you nev- er disg^isted with the manna that fell every morning God's CMlrwersy ivUk tifftAi^ Iff around your habitations ? Did you never iiAy, whh the Israelites, '' There is nothing at all^ beddes ibm, manna, before our eyes?" Num.. ki. 6. Itwas nt^ cessary, in order to re-animate your zeal for 6od, to take his candlestick away; it waa necessary for yoi| to learn the importance of salvation, by the difl&DuI^ ty of obtaining it ; and to kindle your love to youf spiritual husband by his absence. These events ei^ cited abundance of piety among you ; and, thougl| the misfortunes of the times have produced too ipar ny examples of human frailty, yet to these unhappjr times we owe the bright examples of many eminenjft persons, whose names will go down with honor to the latest posterity. Let us then acknowledge, my brethren, that, al* though we have insulted the rectitude of God, we are willing now to do homage tq it ; let us confesak God hath given bis people no just ground of cons- plaint ; in all his conduct he hath displayed the poW: ^er of a God, the fidelity of a husband, the tender- ness of a parent ; and we have nothing to reply to hirifi, when he asks, " O my people what have I done unto thee? wherein have I wearied thee? testify against me." As God hath answered the complaints of his peo- ple, let us proceed to inquire how his people will answer the complaints of their God. Let us see what we ourselves can reply. He hath heard uf^ can we refuse to hear him ? Let us proceifd in tbm astonishing cause between God and his church. '^ The Lord hath a controversy with his people, the Lord will plead with IsraeL" ^tl^ ^hd'S Controversy with Israel ■ The history of the Jews is so well known, that ev- / %ry one of us is acquainted with their irregularities. They corrupted both natural and revealed religion. They bad " as many gods as cities," Jen ii. 28. They diose rather to saciifice their children to Moloch than their sheep and oxen to Jehovah. There was ho opinion so absurd, no worship so puerile, no idol- atry so gross as not to be admitted among them. Having shaken off the ties of religion, the bridles of corrupt passions, they threw the reins on the neck? of the most ungovernable dispositions, and rushed furiously into all the worst vices of the nations round ihem. With this conduct the prophets were always reproaching them, and particularly Ezekiel in these 'words, in which hie describes this wretched people ^nder an image the most odious that can be imagin- ed. " O how weak is thiiie heart, saith the Lord God, seeing thou doest all these things ! O wife committing Mullery, taking strangers instead of thy husband! They give gifts to all whores : but thou givest thy gifts to all thy lovers, and hirest them that they come 'unto thee on every side for thy whoredom. The contrary is in thee from other women in thy whore- doms, whereas none foUoweth thee to commit whore^ doms; and in that thou givest a reward, and no re- gard is given un4o thee," Ezek. xvi. 30, &c. These words give us shocking ideas of this people ; for if ^it was an abomination under the law to " bring the 'bire of ai» whore into the house of the Lord," Deut. xxiii. 18. for an offering, how much greater abomina- tion must it be tp apply the offerings of the Lord tc the support of prostilufes! Ood's Controversy with Israd. 157 Their crimes were aggravated, too, by the innu- merabJe blessings iivhich God bestowed on thena. The prophet reminds them of these in the words that follow the text. " Remember, O my people, I redeemed thee out of the house of servants, remem- ber what Balak consulted, and what Balaam answer- ed," What favour did this people receive! What numberless engagements to fear God! He made a covenant with them, he divided the sea to let them pass over, he gave them bread from heaven to eat, he cleft the rock to give them drink, he brought them into the country of which Moses bad said^ " The land whither ye go is a land which the Lor4 thy God careth for; the eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from the beginning of the year, even unto the end of tbe year," Deut. xii, 12. — Moreover, all their temporal blessings were types and pledges of spiritual benefits, either then bestow- ed, or promised in future. After so many favours on God's part, after so many crimes on the part of the people, had not the Lord reason to complain ? Was ever controversy more just than this ? My brethren, you have certainly been often shock- ed at reading tbe history of this people; you have blamed their idolatry ; you have detested their in- gratitude ; you have condemned the carelessness of their pastors, and all the vices of the people. But what would you say if we could prove that the ex- cetsses of priests and people are greater under the gospel than under the law ? The Lord's controversy with you affirms this^ and this we must now examine* 168 Ooiis Controvert miklsraei But which of us ministers, which of us has cour* age to enter into this detail ? And which of you chris- tian people would have humility enough to hear us out without murmuring, trembling with indignation; and exclaiming against your reprover. Away mih hmy cttvatf with him ! Surprising ! When we just now pleaded the unjust cause of man against the Creator^ the patient Creator satisfied every inquiry ; the earth did not open under our feet to swallow us up ; no fire from heaven came down to destroy us ; but eve- ly article of the controversy received a full answer. Now that we ought to proceed to hear the complaints of the Creator against us, I already hear every one murmuring, and refusing to pay as much regard to the just complaints of God, as God condescended to pay to those which had no foundation in reason and equity. Well, we will speak to you in 3'our own way ; we will treat you as sick people are treated when their physicians are obliged to disguise remedies, and con- ceal operations necessary to their recovery ; we will decide nothing; but we will leave each of you to judge of his own conduct. We will only produce a ifew of the articles of God's controversy with you, and propose a few maxims for you to examine ; but if there remain the least degree of rectitude in you, we conjure you to apply these maxims in earnest to yourselves. First. When God distinguishes a people by signed favorSy the peopk ought to distinguish themselves by gratitude to him. The equity of this maxim is cleso: to every one of us, and nobody will dispute it. I CM^s Canirover$jf wiA hrad. |fi9 ttfilk then, were any people in the world ever &vored of heaven as the people of these provinces have been ? A people (permit me to go back to your onh gin) a people formed amidst grievous oppressions and barbarous impositions ; a people subject to ty- rants more cruel than the Pharaohs of Egypt ; a people not ashamed to call themselves beggars, and to exhibit poverty on their standards ; a people who, in the space of six months, gave up six thousand of themselves to racks and gibbets ; a people riSien from this low condition into tbe present state of magnifi- cence; a people who, placed in a corner of the world, and occupying only a few acres, extend their influence over the whole world ; a people opposing at the same time two great kings ; a people in whose favor the sea suspended its usual flux on the day that was to decide the fate of these provinces for ever ; a people whose forts were all occupied by the ene- my, and who, when they had nothing to trust to but the unaVailii^ fidelity of a few citizens, saw the en^ emy that came out against them one rvay^ flee b^are them seven ways, Deut. xxviii. 7. a people inhabiting a country formed, (if I may speak so,) against the laws of nature, but which the God of nature sup- ports as it were by miracle ; a people taxing, govern- ing, and making laws for themselves ; a people walk* ing in the light of the gospel shining in all its glory^ and enjoying the reformation in its utmost purity. This is only an imperfect sketch of the bleiisings, which God in distinguishing mercy confers on you. Do you distinguish yourselves by your gratitude ? Is there more piety among you than among other wo God^s Controversy wUh Israel. nations ? Is there a greater attention to the word of. God, and more def€u*ence to his laws ? Are there stote good examples in parents, andare their chil- ort, yea the daily bread of his family in this prac- tice ? I determine nothing. I pronounce nothing. I leave you to judge of your own actions. But why not pronounce, why not decide ? Where- fore respect false delicacy ? " Why not declare the whole counsel of God ?'* Acts xx. 27. " Why strive to please men ?" Gal. i. 10. Ah, my brethren ! were I to hold my peace, the walls, and the pillars, and the arches of this building, the hills and the mounr tains would rise up in judgment against you. ^* Hear, ye mountains, hear ye hills, hear the Lord's contro- versy. The Lord hath a controversy with his peo- ple, and he will plead with Israel." Yea, the Lord hath a controversy with you. His reproofs would cleave your hearts asunder, and dissolve you in floods of tears, were you capable of reflections and emotions. He complains of all the vices we have mentioned. He complains that you are insensible to the most terrible threatenings of his mouth, and the heaviest strokes of his hand. He complains- that ye bite and devour one another like wild and savage beasts. He complains that impiety, irreligion, and intemperance reign over those souls which are fornai' ed for the honour of having God for their king. He complains that you forget the excellence of your na- ture, and the dignity of your origin, and that you occupy your immortal souls with amusements unwor- thy of the attention of creatures having the least de- gree of intelligence. He complains that exhorta- tions, expostulations, and intreaties, the most forci- ble and afiecting, are almost always witiiout success, complains of some abominable crimes which are t6S CMs- Ombrowtsjf with Israd, committed in the face of the sun, and of others that are concealed under the darkness of the night, the horrors of which I dare not even mention in this place dedicated to the service of God. He com- plains that you force him, as it were, to lay aside his inclination to bless you, and oblige him to chas- tise you with severity. Behold! the storm gathers, the thunder mutters and approaches, . the lightning is ready to flash in our faces, unless our fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes avert these judgments which threaten us, or, shall I rather say, which are already falling upon us ? Such is the controversy of God with you ; these are his complaints. It is your part to reply. Jus- tify yourselves, plead, speak, answer. " O my peo- ple, what have I done unto thee?'* What have you to say in your own behalf? How can you justify your ingratitude, your insensibility, your luxury, your calumnies, your dissipations, your lukewarm- ness, your worldly mindedness, your pride, your unworthy communions, your forgotten fasts, your false contracts, your broken resolutions, the harden- ing of your hearts against threatenings and promises, and personal chastisements, some public calamities already inflicted on the church, and others ready to overwhelm it ? Have we any thing to reply ? Again I say, justify yourselves, plead, speak, answer. Ah, my brethren, my brethren ! am I deceiving myself; I think I see your hearts in your counte- nances, and read in your faces the reply you are go- ing to make. Methinks I see your hearts penetrated with genuine grief, your faces covered \vith holy CMPs Cofntrowrsy mfh Isratfi l6^ cdhiiisioD, and your eyes flowing with tears of godly sorrow. Methinks I bear the language of your con-' sciences, all ** broken and contrite, and trembling at the word of the Lord," Psal. li. 19 ; methinks I hear each of you say, " though I were righteous, yet would I not answer: but I would make supplication to my judge," Isa. Ixvi. 2. Job ijc. 15. This wM the disposition of the people after they had heard Micah, God said, ** O my people, what have I done unto thee ? wherein have I wearied thee ? testify against me." And the people, afBicted on account of their sins, afraid of the judgments of God, all wounded and weighed down with a sense of guilty confused and astonished at their condition, replied^ " Wherewith ^hall I come before the Lord, and boilr myself before the high God ?^ This was the answer of the Jews, and this it the answer we expect of you. Let each of you say, " Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God ?" How shall I turn away those torrents of divine judgments which thredt- en to overwhelm the christian world ? We, the min- isters of Christ, we answer in the name of God, pre* vent them by sighs and tears of genuine repentance, prevent them by cool, constant, and effectual resch lutions, by effusions of love, and by increasing zeal for universal obedience. This ought to be the work of this day ; it is the design of the fast, and the aim of this sermon ; for it is not sufficient, my brethren, to trace the contro- versy of God with you, it must be finbhed, the par- ties must be reconciled, and each of us must yield you IV. 22 1 70 Chd^s Controversi/ with Israel. obedience to the voice that says to every one of us, " be may make peace with me, he shall make peace with me,*' Isa. xxvii. 5. Magistrates, princes, noblemen, ministers, people, parents, children, will you not all of you embrace this invitation ? Da you not solemnly protest, in the presence of heaven and earth, and before the angels that wait in this assembly, that you prefer this peace before all the riches in the world ? Do you not all resolve, with the utmost sincerity and good faith, ne- ver more wilfully to break the commandments of God 1 O Lord, thou knowest all things, thou know- eit the hearts of all mankind, thy searching eyes sur- vey the most secret purposes of the souls of all this assembly I If each of us reply thus to God, let us cherish the pleasure that is inspired by the return of his favour. Christians, what came you out to-day to see ? What came you out to hear ? God pleading before you, God justifying himself, God convicting you : yet, after all, God pardoning you. What may we not expect from a God so patient and kind. Lo! I see on a happy future day the tears of Zion wiped away, the mourning of Jerusalem ended, our captives freed from bondage, our galley-slaves from chains. I see on a happy future day victory following our march, our generals crowned with laurels, and every campaign distinguished by some new triumph. Methinks I behold, on some future day, our pray- ers exchanged for praise, our fasts for solemn festi- vals, our mourning for joy and triumph, and all the^ God's Cmtroversjf with Israel 171 faithful, assembled to-day to implore the aid of the God of armies, again convoked lo bless the God of victory, and making this place echo with repeated shouts, "The riglit hand of the Lord is exalted. The right hand of the Lord hath done valiantly. The sword of the Lord and Gideon." Psal. cxviii. 16. Judg. vii, 20. I see on some happy future day our enemies con- founded; one post running to meet another, one messenger to meet another, to shew the king of Babylon that his army is routed. I see commerce flourishing among this people, and liberty forever established in these provinces. Go then, generous warriors, go verify these pleas- ing omens, go holijy prodigal of spilling your blood in defence of liberty, religion, and your country. May the God of armies return you victorious as ra- pidly as our wishes rise ! May he re-unite tiie many hearts, and re-assemble the many families, which this campaign is going to separate ! May he prevent the shedding of human blood ; and, while he makes you conquerors, may he spare the people subdued by you ! May he return you to wear the crowns and laurels which our hands will be eagerly preparing for you ! May he, after he shall have granted you all a long and happy life, useful and glorious to the state and to your families, open the gates of eternal hap- piness to you, and fix you forever in the temple of peace ! To him be honour and glory henceforth and for ever. Amen. it SERMON VI. Xhe Harmony of Religion and Civil PoKty. Proverbs xiv. 34. Righteousness exalteth a Ifation. jLo ptopose maxims of civil polity m a religiouf assembly, to propose maxims of religion in a politip cal assembly, are^two things, which seerfi alike sense* less and imprudent. The christian is so often distior guished from the statesman, that, it would seem, they were opposite characters. We have been late* ly taught to believe, that Jesus Christ, by giving us an idea of a society more noble than any we can form upon earth, hath forbidden us to prevent the miseries of this state, and to endeavour to procure the glory of it. It hath been said, that kingdom! and states cannot be elevated without violating the laws of equity, and infringing the rights of the church. How general soever this odious notion may havp been, hardly any one hath appeared openly to avow it till of late. The impudence of pleading for it was reserved for our age, for a christian admitted into your provinces, cherished in your bosom, and^ O shao^e of our churches ! appearing among protet* 174 Tlie Harmony of Ueligion and Civil Polity. tant refugees, as the devil formerly presented him- self before the Lord, among the angels of God.^ We propose to-day, my brethren, to endeavour to unravel the sophisms of this author, to shew you the agreement of religion with civil polity, and to establish this proposition, that as there is nothing in religion to counteract the design of a wise system of civil polity, so there is nothing in a wise system ot civil government to counteract the design of the christian religion. It was the wisest of all kings who taught us Ibis lesson. He speaks of the exaltation of a nation, and this is the end of civil polity. He dpeaks of righteousness^ and this is the design of re- ligion, or rather this is religion itself. He affirms that the latter is the foundation of the former, and tfiis is the agreement of religion with civil govern- ment. It is righteousness^ saith he. It is righteousness that exalleth a nation. '- This, proposition of Solomon needs both explica- tion and proof; and this discourse is intended to fur- nish both. In our first part we will state the question, fix the ^nse of these terms, righteousness, exaltation ; we will set aside the various false senses which occasion- ed the opinion that we intend to oppose ; and by these means we will preclude such objections as may be made against our doctrine. In the second part we will allege some arguments in favour of the proposition contained in the text, when properly explained, and so prove that righte- ousness exalteth a nation. * VoyezBayle, Continuat. des pensees divers, torn. ii. pag. 59S, !Z%e Harmony of Religion mid Civil Polity. 175 This nation is exalted, my brethren ; but, allow me to say, it is not by its righteousness. We have not therefore chosen this text to create an opportunity of making encomiums on you ; but we treat of the subject in order to fix your attention on the proper means of preserving and augmenting your elevation* Happy if our design meet with success -, happy if we contribute, though not according to the extent of our wishes, yet, according to the utmost of our ability, to the glory of this state. I. We just now insinuated, that the false glosses put upon the maxim of the wise man, were the prin- cipal causes of our backwardness to admit the truth of it. It is therefore important to state the question clearly. 1. When we affirm that righteousness and religion in general, (for it would be easy to prove* that the word righteousness, in the text, is to be taken in this vague sense,) I say, when we affirm that religion ex* alteth a nation, we do not mean such a religion as many imagine. We ingenuously acknowledge, and would to God the whole world acknowledged, that neither the religion of a cruel man, nor the religioo of a superstitious person, nor the religion of an en* thusiast, can exedt a nation. How can the religion of a cruel man exalt a na- tion ? The religion of such men is too well known* for the peace of Europe. Such as these, under pre- tence of devotion, cut a fi:-ee course for their own black and inflexible passions. These arm themselves with the civil sword, to destroy all who doubt the truth of their systems ; they put violence in the if 6 The B(Bammy if Rdigion and Civil Polity. Idace of demonstration, and endeaTour to establish fte gospel as if it were the koran of Mohammed, by force arid constraint. These characters, as I just flow said, are too well known for the peace of Eu- iope. Even now, while I speak, I behold many irfco have suffered under such cruelty, and have op- posed the strongest arguments against it. No, my Itttethren, this is not the religion that exaltetk a na- Hon. Such a religion depopulates states, ruins com- merce, and is a never failing source of civil wars tod intestine commotions. The religion of which Mt speak, is a kind, patient, gentle religion ; a reli- gkm, the grand character of which is forbearance, benevolence, and fraternal love ; a religion inimical to error and heresy ; but which, however, pities the Erroneous and the heretic; a religion which exerts itself to eradicate false doctrines; but which leaves each at liberty to admit the truth ; a religion which hath no other sword than the Sword of the Spirit^ nor any other weapon than that of the word. How can the religion of a superstitious man exalt a nation ? It makes devotion degenerate into idleness, it increaseth the number of ecclesiastics, and so ren- ders many members useless to society. It wastes in pretendedly pious foundations immense sums, which might have contributed to the advancement of arts and sciences. It generates scruples in the minds of statesmen, and so* restrains the exercise of those fine faculties, which God created for the good of the state. It puts the casuist in the place of the Srince, and the prince in the place of the casuist ; 3e casuist on the throne, and the prince in confession T7u Barinony if Rdigum and GpU Pdiljf. 177 at bis feet. No» my brethren, this is not the religion, of which we speak. The religion of which we speal; is opposite to superstition. It is just and solid, re- quiring us to reiuiier vitto Casar the things that art Cctsar's, and unto God the things that are God^s, Matt, xii 17. It prescribes bounds to sovereigns: but it requires casuists also tp know their place. How can the religion of an enthusiast contribute to the exaltation of a nation ? the soul of an enthu- siast is always agitated with visions and reveries. He incessantly thrusts himself into the company of the great, in order to inspire them with his own spir- it, and to breathe into them the soul of enthusiasm. He endeavours to animate governors called to watch over a state, and to conduct the people to national happiness, with his wild schemes. He is always talking of exthpating the reformation, and thunder- ing excommunications against those who do not eih ter into his extravagant projects;* his anathemas are as extravagant and wild as the projects themselves. This is not the religion, of which we speak. The The religion that exalteth a naiiony is derived fix>m ttie treasures of the Divine Intelligence; it was formed in the mind of that sublime Spirit, from whom wisdom proceeds, as the stream flows from the spring : and not in the ideas of a disordered brain, nor in the dreams of a visionary. We wish you to take religion and righteousnen in the true sense of the terms. This is our first da<* cidation. This is the first precaution, that must be used to understand the state of the question* TOT,. IV. 28 I^ jHle Harmomf of Relfgion and Civil PM^l* 1L We do not meaii to affirm, tbat the true i^eli-^ gkm 18 so necessary in M its doctrines, and in aU the extent of its precepts, tbat there are ilo instances of the flourishing of societies, which have not been wholly regulated by it. We acknowledge that some societies of men, who have been only partially governed by its maxims, have enjoyed long and glo- nous advantages upon the theatre of the world ; ei- ther because their false religions contained some principles of rectitude in common with the tnie re- flgioii ; or because God, in order to animate such people to practise some virtues, superficial indeed, but, however, necessary to the being of society, an- nexed success to the exercise of them ; or because He prospered them to answer some secret designs of his wisdom ; or because, finally, rectitude was never so fully established on earth as to preclude injustice flY)m enjoying the advantages of virtue, or virtue from suffering the penalties of vice. However it were, we allow the fact, and we only affirm that the most sure method that a nation can take to sup- port and exalt itself, is to follow the laws of right- eousness and the spirit of religion. This is a sec- ond elucidation, tending to state the question clearly, 3. We do not affirm, that in every particular case religion is more successful in procuring some tempo- ral advantage than the violation of it ; so that to consider society only in this point of light, and to confine it to this particular case, independently of all other circumstances, religion yields the honour of prosperity to injustice. We allow some state crimes have been successful, and have been the .steps by J%i Harmmy (f ReHgim a»d CinUToUlys 179 vfaich some people have acquii'ed worldly glory* We even allow, that virtue hatb sometimes been at obstacle to grandeur. We only^aflBrm, that if a na?- tion be considered in every point of light, and ia all circumstances, if all things be weighed, it will be found that the more a society piactises virtue, the more prosperity it will eiyoy. We affirm, that the more it abandons itself to vice, the more misery wilj it sooner or later sutler ; so that the very vice which contributed to its exaltation will produce its destruc^ tion; and the very virtue, which seems at first to abase it, will in the end exalt its glory* This is a third elucidation. 4. We do not mean by exaltation that sort of el- evation at which worldly heroes, or rather tyrants, aspire. We acknowledge that, if by exalting a na- tion be understood an elevation extending itself be- yond the limits of rectitude, an elevation not din rected by justice and good faith, an elevation consist- ing of the acquisitions of wanton and arbitrary pow^* er, an elevation obliging the whole worid to submit to a y<^e of slavery, and so becoming an execution- er of divine vengeance on ail mankind; we allow, that, in this sense, exaltation is not an effect of right- eousness* But, if we understand by exalting a na- lionj wbatevei* governs with gentleness, negociates with suqcess, attacks witii courage, defends witli resolution, and constitutes the happiness of a pecv ple,. whatever God always beholds with favourable ^yesi ; if this be what is meant by exalting a naUony we affirm a nation is exalted only by righteousness. 5. lii fine, we do not affiny that the prosperity of 180 The Bamany (f Rdigian and a^a PiMy. such a nation would be so perfect as to exclude all untoward citxumstances. We only say, that the highest glory and the most perfect happiness which can be enjoyed by a nation in a world, where, after all, there is always a mixture of adi^ersity with pros* perity, are the fruits of righteousness. These eluci- dationamust be retained, not only because they ex- plain the thesis which we are supporting, and be- cause they are the ground of what we shall hereafter say; but also because they serve to preclude such objections, to solve such diflSculties, and to unravel such sophisms, as thie author whom we oppose urges against us. One argument against us is taken from the abuses which religion hath caused in society ; but this ob- jection is removed, by taking away false ideas of re- ligion. A second objection is taken from the case of fiome idolatrous nations, who, though they were strangei^s to revealed religion, have yet arrived at a great height of worldly glory ; but this objection is removed by our second elucidation. A third objec- tion is taken from some particular case, in which vice is of more advantage to a state than virtue; but this objection falls before the manner in which we have stated .the question. A fourth objection is taken from extravagant notions of glory ; but this objec- tion is removed by distinguishing true exaltation from fesle. Finally, an objection is taken from the evils which the most virtuous societies suffer; and we have acknowledged, that this world will always be to public bodies what it is to individuals, a place of mis- ery ; and we havo contented ourselves with affirm- The Hamumtf of Religion cai4 Oit^ l^oUty. 181 ing, that the most solid happiness which can be en- joyed here, hath righteousnesi? for its cause. The narrow linfiits to which we are confined, will not al- low us to carry our reflections any further. They, however, who n>3ditate profoundly on the matter, will easily perceire that all these objections are, if not abundantly refuted, at least sufficiently preclud- ed by our explications. We will now proceed to shew the grounds of the maxim of the wise man. We will open six sources of reflections; an idea of society in general; the constitution of each government in particular; the nature of arts and sciences ; the conduct of prov- idence ; the promises of God himself; and the histo* ry of all ages. These articles make up the remain- der of this discourse. II. I. Let us first form an idea of society in general, and consider the motives which induced mankind to unite themselves in society, and to fix themselves in one place. By doing this, we shall perceive, that righteousness is the only thing that can render nations happy. Every individual hath infinite wants ; but only finite faculties to supply them. Each individ- ual of mankind hath need of knowledge to inform him, laws to direct him, property to support him, medicines to relieve him, aliments to nourish him, clothing arid lodging to defend himself against the injuries of the seasonis. How easy would it be to enlarge this catalogue ! Similar interests form a sim^ ilar design. Divers men unite themselves together, in order that the industry of all may supply the 182 TheSarmmyqf Rt^gimandCivaPoUi^. wants of eacb. This is the origin oi societies and public bodies of men. It is easy to comprehend that, in order to enjoy the blessings proposed by this assemblage, some fixed nmxims must be laid down and inyiolably obeyed. It will be necessary for all the members of this body to consider themselves as naturally equal, that by this idea they may be inclined to afford each other mutual fiticcoun It will be necessary that they should be wicere to each other, lest deceit should serve for a veil to conceal the fatal designs of some from the eyes of the rest It will be necessary for all to observe the rules of rigid equity, that so they may fulfil the contracts which they bound themselves to perform, wben they were admitted into this society. It will be necessary that esteem and benevolence should give life and action to righteousness. It will be ne- cessary that the happiness of all should be pieferred before the interest of one ; and that in cases where public and private interests clash, the public good should always prevail. It will be necessary that each should cultivate his own talents, that he may contribute to the happiness of that society to which he ought to devote himself with the utmost sincerity and zeal. jNow, my brethren, what can be more proper to make us observe these rules than religion, than right- eousness? Religion brings us to feel our natural equality; it teacheth us that we originate in the same dust, have the same God for our Creator, are all descended from the same first parents, all partake of the same miseries, and are all doomed to the Tlu Harmony ef Religion afid C 183 same last end. Religion teacbeth us sincerity to each other, that the tongue should be a faithful iiH terpreter of the mind, that we should " speak evety man truth with his neighbour,^' Eph. ir« 25. and that, being always in the sight of the God of truth, we should never depart from the laws of truth. Re- ligion teacheth us to be just, that we should ^^ render to all their dues ; tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom, fear to whom fear, honour to whom honour; that whatsoever we would men should do unto us, we should do even so unto them,** Rom. xiii. 7. Matt. vii. 12. Religion requireth us to be animated with charity, to consider each other as creatures of one God, subjects of the same king, members of one body, and heirs of the same glory. Religion requireth us to give up private interest to public good, not to seek our own, but every one an^ other's wealth ; it even requireth us to lay down our lives for the brethren. Thus, by considering »a- tions in these primitive views, it is righteomness alone that txciUs them. 2. But all this is too vague. We proceed next to consider each form of government in particular. It is impracticable for all the members of society, on every pressing occasion, to assemble together and give their su£Srages. Public bodies, therefore, agree to set apart some of their number who are accounted the soul, the will, the determination of the whole. Some nations have committed the supreme power to one, whom they call a Monarch ; this is a monarch^ ical state. Others have committed supreme power to a few of their own body called Magistrates, Sen- 184 I%e Harmmy of Rdigion and Civil PidUy. ators, Nobles, or some other honom^bk appella- tion ; this is a republic, called in the schools an aris- tocracy. Others have diffused supreme power more equally among all the members of their society, and have placed it in all heads of families ; this is a pop- ular government, usually called a democracy. So- ciety gives its authority and privileges into the hands of those persons ; it intrusts and empowers them to make laws, to impose taxes, to raise subsidies, to make peace, or to declare wair, to reward virtue, to punish vice, in one word, to do whatever may be beneficial to the whole society, with the felicity of which they are intrusted. If we consider those various forms of government, we shall find that each nation will be more or less happy in its own mode of governing, will more or less prevent the inconveniencies to which it is sub- ject, according as it shall have more or less attach- ment to religion or righteousness. What are the particular inconveniencies of a mo- narchical government ? In what cases is monarchy fa- tal to the liberty, and so to the felicity of the nation ? When the monarch, instead of making the good of the people his supreme law, follows nothing but his own caprice. When he thinks himself vested with su- preme power for his own glory, and not for the glory of his kingdom. When, by stretching his au- thority beyond its lawful bounds, he endeavours ar- bitrarily to dispose of the lives and fortunes of iiis subjects. When, in order to avenge a private quar- rel, or to satiate his thirst for glory, from which his people derive no benefit, h^ engage! h them in bloody The Marmniy oj Rdigim and CwU P^. 160 w^rs, and sacrificeth them to a vain and ioislgimrjr grandeur. When he wastes the substance of b» people in superb bufldings, in excessire embellidH ments^ and in sumptuous equipages. When he inft- poses on them enormous tributes, and exorbitant . taxes. When he is inaccessible to th6 widow audi the orphan. When he gives himself up to indch lence, and doth not study the wants of his subjects^ When, though he appropriates to himself the adyai^ tages of empire, yet, in order to free himself frocn the fatigue of governing, he commits the reins to m rash counsellor or to an insolent favourite* Whc^n he entertains such an idea of royalty as one ancient* ly formed, who defined it a right to do whatevw we will with impunity; such an idea as that, whidi a mean flatterer gave of it to Alexander the Great, Do as many unjust actions as you will, impoverij^ your subjects by exactions, extortions, and rapines, to satisfy your luxury and imbitioq, it is all right, it is all lovely, because you choose to have it so«* When, instead of being the father of his people, h% strives to be the executioner, like that brutal Empe- ror who wished the Roman empire had but one beafl that he might strike it off at a blow.f These are the inconveniencies of the first kind of government In what cases is the second kind of government hurtful ? Is it not when any one of the magistrate^, instead of eonsidering himself as a single member of the assembly, aims to be the head of it ? When he intrudes into office by sinister means. When te * Plut&fch ad princip. indoct. t Sueton. Calig. Ghap. XXX. TOl. Hr. 34 M6 I^SiamM^^ Mdigim and CivU PolU:^. «ietti his potv^r not iM tke public good, but for the advmcement and ^oiy of his own &mily. When iie is meam eno»£h to (sell his vote. When he in^- Aftes himself with a number of seditious people, in f one? These, and many more, are the ItWpWfections of these three sorts of government. |ffeed w-e to take up your time in proving, that all ftesis 31s are most and best precluded by religion ? ©©*e not all recollect some scripture maxims which •l!?»*fld restrain these excesses ? I need not therefore tniiltiply quotations to prove this point. Is not each -oif us conviiiced that, if we thus conskter nations in regard to the forms of their :goTefnment, it is right- eousness alone that exalts them^? i 3. Our doctrine will s^pear in a clearer light still, if we proceed to examine the liberal arts aiul mem^ ces. The more a society follows the spirit of relif gion, the more will religion cherish them under it» fostering wing. Jurisprudence will flourish, because kw will be disengaged from anabiguity, which per- petuates animosities; because counsellors will pleaiA none but just causes; and because judges wiH neyer suffer themselves to be corrupted by g^^tSf which Uind the eyes of the wise^ but will always decide accordii^ to the spirit of the law, and the dictates c^ cott^ science. The military art will flourish, becau£(e the aoMiw will not defraud the officer, the officer will not 40* fraud the soldier ; because both will go into the ax^ my not merely to obtain the favour of their govern- ors, but to please God ; because, being prepared to die by an anticipated repentance, their ardour wiU not be restrained by the fear of falling into the hands of an angry God ; because, should they havf neglected to conciliate the favour of God before a battle, they would be persuaded, even in the heat of it, that the best way to please him would be to discharge the duty of theu' office; whereas, whe* soldiers feel their consciences agitated, when amidit the discharge of the artillery of their enemies they discover eternal flames, when they see hell opening under their feet, and the horrors of eternal punishr ment succeeding those of the field of battle iimy wiU always fight with reluctance, and endeavour to avoid future misery by fleeing away from present death. . . 188 ThHiummyqfltdigwnandCJMPM^. '' In a Tiriuous state ammerce will flourish, because the merchant, always speaking the truth, and dealing with good &itb, will attract general credit, and con- fidence ; always following the rules of wisdom and prudence, he will never engage in rash undertakings, which ruin families and subvert whole houses ; not taing animated with avarice or vain glory, be will not first acquire riches by injustice, and next waste them with indiscretion ; depending on the blessing lof heaven, all his labours will be eqliyened with cour* age and joy, In such ja st^te divitdty will flourish, because each, burning wiUi seal for the glory of God, will care- fldly cultivate 9 science which bath God for its ol> jMt $ because, being free from a party spirit, he will receive the truth^ whatever hand may present it to hkn; because, by refeiring religion to its chief end, he will not spend his life in the pursuit of trifles ; because, full of zeal for his salvation, he will be at* tentive to every step towards it ; because, not being ei^aved by bis passions, be will not be enveloped in the darkness, produced by them, or, to express myself in the language of scripture, because by do^ ing the will of God, he will know whether such and fnich doctrines come from the Supreme Being, or ^m the preacher only, John vii. 17, iPhe fneehanieal arts will flourish in a virtuous st^te, because they, on whom God hath not bestow- ed genius equal to the investigation of abstract scir ^ces, w))om he hath fitted for less noble stations in popiety* will fill up those stations with the utmost f »rpi W4 will \>e happy in 4eriving frqm then? such Th$HamQfi3fofReUgiMa$^Cka^P^ ]8». advantages as tbey produce. Thus a just notion of arts and sciences opens to us a third source of argu*-- ments to prove the truth of our text* 4. The doctrine of providence opens a fourth, stf others have observed. The conduct of providence in regard to public bodies is very diflferent from that which prevails in the case of individuals. In regard to the latter, providence is involved in darkness; Many times it seems to condemn virtue and crows injustice, to leave innocence to groan in silence, and to empower guilt to riot and triumph in public. The wicked rich m; n fared sumptuously every day, Laz- arus desired in vain to be fed with the crumbs that fell from his table, Luke xvi. 19, 21. St. Paul was executed on a scaffold. Nero reigned on Caesar's throne. And to say all in one word, Jesus Christ was born in a stable, and Herod lived and died in a palace. But providence is directed in a different method in riegard to public bodies. Prosperity in thetn is tte effe<*t of righteousness, public happiness is the re** ward of public virtue, the wisest nation is usually the most successful, and virtue walks with glory by her side. God sometimes indeed afflicts the most virtu* ous nations ; but be doth so with the design of puri^ fying them, and of opening new occasions to bestow larger benefits on them* He sometimes indeed pros^ pers wicked imtions ; but their prosperity is an efibrt of his patience and long suffering, it is to give them time to prevent their destruction ; yet, after all, m I said before, prosperity usually follows righteous^ fiess io publip bp^ju^ public happiness Is the rewurd 199 ThtBatwuMfoJRdigiM andCwUPokkf. Oi puUk tirUie, the ivisest nation i» Ibe most mc-* eessfuly and glory k generally connected witb Tirtue. They to whom we are indebted for thifl reflection have grounded it on tbisr reason — A day will come when Lazarus will be indemnified, and tlie rich man futiisbed ; St. Paul will be rewarded, and Nero will h& confonnded ; Jesus Christ will fill a throne, and Herod irill be covered with ignominy. Innocence will be avenged, justice satisfied, the mafesty of the laws repaired, and the rights of God maintained. But such a retribution is impracticable in regard to public bodies. A nation cannot be punished then M a nation, a province as a province, a kingdom as a kingdom. All difierent sorts of government will be then abolished. One individual of a people will be put in possession of glory, while another will be covered with shame and confusion of face. It should seem, then, that providence owes to its own recti- tude those times of vengeance in which it pours all Ha wrath on wicked societies, sends them plagues, wars, famines, and other catastrophes, of which his^ tory gives us so many memorable examples. To place hopes altogether on worldly policy, to pretend to derive advantages from vice, and so to found the happiness of society on the ruins of religion and irirtue, what is this but to insult providence ? This is to arouse that power against usj which sooner or later overwhelms and confounds vicious societies. 5, If the obscurity of the ways of providence, Whieh usually renders doubtful the reasonings of men on its conduct, weaken the last ailment, let ut proceed to consider in the next place the declara- lions of God himself xm this article. The whole twenty-^ighth chapter of Deuteronomy, all the bles- sings and curses pronounced there fuUy prove our doctrine* Read this tender complaint which GoA formerly made concerning the irr^iularilies of bis people. " O that th^' were wise, that they under* stood tills, that they woidd consider their latter eflri ! How ^ould one chase a thousand, or two put ten thousand to flight ?" chap, xxxii. 29, 30. Read tbe affecting words which he uttered by the mouth of bis prophet, '* O that my people bad hearkened unto me, and Isradl had walked in my ways ! I should soon have subdued their enemies, aud turned my hand against their adversaries. Their time diould have endured for ever. I should have fed tbem also with the finest of the wheat ; and with honey out of the rock should I have satisfied them^" Psal. Ixxxi. 13. &c. Read tlie noble promises made by the ministry of Isaiah, ** Thus saith the Lord thy Redeemer, the holy One of Israel, I am the Lord thy God which teacheth thee to profit, which leadeth thee by the way thou should- est go. O that thou hadst hearkened to my con|- mandments ! then had tbf: peacx^ been as a river, and thy righteousness as 'the waves of the sea ; thy seed also had been as the sand, and thy name should not have been cut off, nor destroyed from before me,*^' chap, xlviii. 17, &c. Read the terrible threat^i- mgs denounced by the prophet Jeremiah, ^' Though Moses and Samuel stood before me, yet my miiod could not be toward this people ; cast them out of my sight, and let them go forth. And it shall come 192 The Harmmy cf RfMgwa a^ CM Pokbf. to pass, if they say unto thee, Whither shall we go forth ? then thou sbalt tell them, Thus saith the Lord, Such as are for death, to death ; and such as are for the sword, to the sword ; and such as are for the fa- mine, to the famine ; and such as are for the captiv- ity, to the captivity. And I will appoint over them .fi>ur kinds, saith the Lord ; the sword to slay, and the dogs to tear, and the fowls of the heaven, and the beasts of the earth, to devour and destroy. For who shall have pity upon Ihee, O Jerusalem? or •who shall bemoan thee ? or who shall go aside to ask lum thou doest ? Thou hast forsaken me, saith the Lord, thou art gone backward: therefore will I ;Stretch out my batid against thee, and destroy thee ; I am weary of repenting," chap. xv. 1, &c. The language of our text is agreeable to all these passa- ges; it is righteousnessy saith the text, it is righteous- ness that exatteth a nation. Thus God speaks ; more- over, thus he acts, as we shall shew you in the next article. 6. TTie history of aU ages affords us another class of arguments in defence of our doctrine, and so proves the truth of it by experience. Had ever preacher a wider or more fruitful field than this which opens to our view in this part of our discourse ? Shall we produce you a list of Egyp- tians, Persians, Assyrians, and Greeks, or Romans, who surpassed them all ? Shall we shew you all these nations by turns exalted as they respected righteous- ness, or abased as they neglected it ? By what mysterious art did ancient Egypt subsist with so much glory during a period of fifteen or six The Harmmy of Rdigimdnd Cml PoUbf. 193 teen asjes ?* By a benevolence so extensive, that he who refused to relieve the wretched, when he bad ft in his power to assist him, was himself punished with death ; by a justice so impartial, that their kings obliged the judges to take an oath that they would never do any thing against their own consciences, though they, the kings themselves, should command them ; by an aversion to bad princes so fixed as to deny them the honours of a funeral ; by invariably rendering to merit public praise, even beyond the grave; for when an Egyptian died, a session was held for the direct purpose of inquiring how he had spent his life, so that all the respect due to his memo- ry might be paid ; by entertaining such just ideas of the vanity of life, as to consider their houses as inns, in which they were to lodge, as it were, only for a night, and their sepulchres as habitations, in whidi they were to abide many ages, in which, therefore, they united all the solidity and pomp of architec- ture, witness their famous pyramids ; by a life so Ja- borifous, that even their amusements were adapted to strengthen the body and improve the mind; by a readiness to discharge their debts so remarkable, that they had a law which prohibited the borrowing of money except on condition of pledging the body of a parent for payment, a deposit so venerable, that a man who deferred the redemption of it was look^ ed upon with horror; in one word, by a wisdom so profound, that Moses himself is renowned in scrip* tnre for being learned in it. * Diodor. SicuL lib. i. sect. 2. Herod. Iib» li^ VOX.. IV. 25 194 The Harmony ofRdigion and Cicil PoUty. By what marvellous method did the Persians ob- tain such a distinguished place of honour in ancient history ?* By considering falsehood in tlie most hor- rid light, as a vice the meanest and most disgraceful ; by a noble generosity, conferring favoure on the na- tions they conquered, and leaving them to enjoy all the ensigns of their former grandeur ; by an univer- sal equity, obliging theuiselves to publish the virtues of their greatest enemies; by observing as an inviola- ble secret state affairs, so that, to use the language of an ancient author, neither promises nor threatenings could extort it, for the ancient laws of the kingdom obliged them to be silent under pain of death ; by a decorum so regular, that queens and all court ladies quitted tlie table as soon as ever the company began to lay aside moderation in drinking ; by religiously recording noble actions, and transmitting them to posterity in public registers; by educating their chil- dren so wisely, that they w^ere taught virtue as other nations were taught letters ; by discovering no grief for such youths as died uneducated. The children of the royal family were put at fourteen years of age into the hands of four of the wisest and most virtuous slalesmt'n. Tlie first taught them the wor- ship of the gods ; the second trained thorn up to speak truth and practise equity ; the third habituated them to subdue voluptuousness, to enjoy real liber- ty, to be always princes, and always masters of them- selves and their own passions; the fourth inspired ihem with courage, and, by teaching them how to command themselves, taught them how to maintain dominion over others. • Herod, lib. i. iii. Plat. Alcib. K Tke Harmmy qf Religion and CUii PclUy. 195 We purposely omit the noble and virtuous actions of the Assyrians, the Medes, the Greeks, and other nations^ who were the glory of the ages in which they lived. But let us not pass by ancient Rome : Was ever nation more exalted 1* One expression of Cdesar will give us a just notion of their excellence. Cicero recommended a friend to him, and this waf his answer ; In regard to Marcus Furius^ wham you haice recommended to m£y I will make him king of GauL If you heme any other friends you wish to have promo- ted, you may command me.i But by what unheard- of prodigy did old Rome, composed at first of no more tlian three thousand inhabitants, carry con- quest in less than six hundred years to the ends of the eailh ? Thus speaks the emperor Julian. By what impenetrable secret did this confused mixture of vagabonds and thieves become a seminary of he* roism and grandeur ? By a wise docility, so that even kings sometimes submitted to the advice of individ- uals; witness Tulius HostUius, who durst not decide the case of Horatius, but referred it to the people ;]; by an observation of the law so strict, that Brutus condemned his two sons to die by the hands of the public executioner, for having listened to the ambi- tious proposals of the Tarquins, who were conspir- ing to enslave the citizens and remount the throne; by a frugality so great, that such men as Curius; Fabricius, Regulus, i&milius, Paulus, and Mummv- * Montagne dc la grandeur Romaino, liv. u. chap. 34. t Cicer. Epist. ad fiunil. lib. viLs. Some copies read not Fii^ fins, but M. Ojjius, See Spanheim in the Cxsars^ p. 161. I Liv^ lib. i. 16. 196 The Harmony of' JReUgion and Cml PoUty. «0» these great deliverers of the Roman people, were seeD to feed their own cattlei to cultivate their lands, and to live ivithout pomp and parade ; by an excel- lent economy, so tliat Atilius Regulus, who com- manded a Roman army in Africa, demanded leave of the Senate to go home and provide for the wants of his family, from whom a day-labourer had stolen the working-tools used in cultivating his estate of se-^ Ten acres ; a requisition so just that the Senate enga- ged to buy tools to cultivate his land, and to sup- port bis wife and children at the public charge ;^ so fer did they carry this virtue, that the elder Cato, ii^rDing from Spain to Italy, sold his horse to save the charge of freight; and usually, when he travel- led, carried his own knapsack, which contained all his travelling necessaries ; by an ardent love for the general good, so that every thing was reserved for the public; temples, baths, roads, aqueducts, trium- phal arches, all were superb wlien the national glory was in view, as all things for the use of individuals were plain ; by an utter aversion to useless bravery, 80 that they considered in a light equally mean the general who exposed his person needlessly, and him who avoided danger when the public good rendered it necessary for him to expose himself;! by a scru- pulous caution not to undertake unjust wars; to guard against which they had a college at Rome, where it was coolly examined whether an intended war were just or unjust, before it was proposed to the * Liv. Epitom. liv. 18. Montag^ne de la parsimonie dep an ciens, liv. i. chap. 52. ' t Sallustdebell. Catil. ix. The Ebrmany qf Rdigian and Civil PoUty. 197 senate and the people ;t by an insurmountable aver- sion to every species of military fmud, so that Lucius Marcius (my brethren, how ought this idea of Pagan heroes to cover some with confusion, who ostenta- tiously affect to play the hero in the christian world!) Lucius Marcius, I say, having deceived Perses, king of Macedonia, by giving him false hopes of peace, and having conquered him by this stratagem, was adjudg- ed by the senate to have violated the Roman laws» and to have swerved from the ancient customs, ac- cording to which it was a maxim to conquer by val- our and not by fraud. I^ having shewn the cause of the prosperity of an- cient nations, we were to inquire into the reasons of their decline; were we to compare the Egyptians under their wise kings with the Egyptians in a time of anarchy, the Persians victorious under Cyrus with the Persians enervated by the luxuries of Asia ; the Romans at liberty under their consuls with the Ro- mans enslaved by their emperors, we should find, that the decline of each of these nations was owing to the practice of vices opposite to the virtues which had caused its elevation ; we should be obliged to acknowledge, that vain-glory, luxury, voluptuous- ness, disunion, envy, and boundless ambition, were the hateful means of subverting states, which in the height of their prosperity expected, and in all ap- pearance justly expected, to endure to the end of time; we should be obliged to allow, that some ex- cesses, which in certain circumstances had contribut- ed to exalt these nations, were in other circumstances the means of ruining them. t CoU. des fcciaux. Dion. Halic. lib. ii. Antiq. Rom.liv.i. 22. 198 I%e Harmanjf of ReUgion and Civil PoUtjf. True, ambition impelled Caesar to elevate the republic of Rome to a pitch as high as it is possible for human grandeur to attain. Armed for the de- fence of the republic, he fought for it, though less for it than for his own glory, and displayed, we grants the Roman eagle in the ferthest parts of Asia, rendered Gaul tributary, swelled the Rhine witti German blood, subdued the Britons, and made all the Adriatic coasts resound the fame of his victories. But did not the same ambition impel him to excite a civil war, to arm Rome against Rome, to cover the Pharsalian field with carnage, and soak the ground with Roman blood, to pursue the shattered remains of Pompe;*s army into the heart of Africa, to give a queen, or rather a prostitute, the kingdom of Egypt, to reduce the first and most free of all nations to a state of meanness and servility beneath the most ab- ject of mankind ? For, my brethren, what were these Romans after they had lost their liberty, and given themselves up to absolute masters ? These Romans, who had given the universe law ; these Roman citi- zens, even the meanest of them, who would have thought themselves disgraced had they mixed their blood with that of kings ; these Romans, once so jealous of their liberty, have we not seen these ve- ry people, under their emperors, submit to vassal- age so as to become a scandal even to slaves ? Infa- mous flatterers, did not they erect altars to Claudi- us, Caligula, and Nero? Did not Rome hear one of its citizens address this language to the last of these monsters ? Choose^ Casar, what place you will among the immortal gods. Will you sway the seep- The Harmony ofRtUgim and Civil PoKty. 199 tre of JupiteTj or mount the chariot of Apollo ? There is not a deity who will not yield his empire to youj and count it an honour to resign in your fa- vour.* But is it necessary to quote ancient history in proof of what we have advanced, that is, that the same vices which contribute at first to exalt a nation^ in the end cause its decline and ruin ? There is a na- TioN,t in favour of which all things seem to promise a general and lasting prosperity. It has an advanta- geous situation, a fruitful soil, a temperate climate, an agreeable society, an easy access, a mutual gene- rosity, an inimitable industry, quick penelration in council, heroical courage in war, incredible success in trade, surprising dexterity in arts, indisputable reputation in sciences, an amiable toleration in reli- gion, severity blended with sweetnesi^ sweetness tem^ pered with severity. Does this nation pass the bounds ? At first it ac- quires advantages more than nature and art had giv- en it. The boundless ambition of the monarch in- spires the subject with a noble pride. Authority, es- tablished by despotical power, enslaves the judg- ments of all to the will of one. A treacherous pol- icy at first imposes on neighbouring states. Troops, impelled by a rash valour, at first surmount all ob- stacles. Toleration is banished, the prince takes the place of God himself, and exercises his prerogative. Violating the faith of edicts procures some present advantages. An insatiable avidity adds fortress to * Lucan. Pharsal. lib. i. t Thb sermon was preached in 1706. 20Q The Harmony of ReUgion and Civil fortress, city to city, province to province, kingdom to kin^^dom. But where is divine providence ? Where is the truth of our text, rUfhteousness exaUeth a nation 1 What pitch of grandeur can religion ob- tain for a people, which cannot be obtained by other means ? Stop. The objection made to our doctrine de- monstrates the truth of it. The ambition of the monarch, communicated to his subjects, will there produce all the fatal effects of ambition. Despoti- cal power, which enslaved the judgments of all to the absolute will of one, will cause the judgments of all to resist the will of one. That deceitful policy, which took neighbouring states by surprise, will in- spire them with distrust and precaution. Troops hurried on by rashness will find out that rashness is the high road to defeat. Toleration disallowed will affect the hearts of faithful subjects, and industry will flee to foreign climes. The violation of edicts will destroy confidence in all the public instruments of government. An insatiable avidity of territorial acquisitions, ofpossessing forts, cities, provinces, and kingdoms, without number, will require more atten- tion, and greater expence than any nation can fur- nish. A state in this condition will sink imder the weight of its own grandeur, it will be attenuated by being expanded; and, if I may use such an expres- sion, impoverished by its abundance. Each passion put in motion will give a shock peculiar to itself, and all together will unite in one general blow, fatal to the edifice which they had erected. A prince, by becoming an object of the admiration of tho Tke Barmnny of nOigi^ tOi trorld, becomes n,t the same time as object oi jesAt ousy, suspicion, and tenror. Hence eome civil coi» motions and foreign wars. Hence the fof iping of leagues and deepK:€m»rted plots. Hence mortalit^^ scarcity, and fan^pe. Hence bearen and earth ia concert against a state that seemed to defy hotb earth and heaven. Hence ao eternal example to justify providence in all future ages, and to demoit strate to the most obstinate the doctrine oi the tex^ that only rectitude can procure substantial glory. • Ttius, we think, we have sufficiently established our prc^>het^ proposition : and we if?ill fini^ thf arguments by which we have supported it, by giving you the character of that author who hath taken the greatest pains to subvert ifc'^^^He was one of thow inconsistent men, whom the finest genius cannot pre- serve from self-contradiction, and whose opposite qualities will always leave us in doubt whether to place them in one extreme, or in another dia« metrically opposite. On the one hand, he was a great philosopher, and knew how to distinguish truth from falsehood, for he could see at once a connection of principles, and a train of conse- quences ; on the other hand, he was a great sophister, always endeavouring to confound truth with false- hood, to wrest principles, and to force consequen- ces. In one view, admirably learned and. of fine parts, having profited much by the labours of others, and more by the exercise of his own great sense : in another view, ignorant, or affecting to be ignpr * Mr. Bayle. TOT.. tV. 26 ' ao^ TheHcarmMjf (^ Religim md Cml^P^ wn( of the most commoir things : advancing afi^ir- ments which had been a thousand times refuted, and rtartiog objections which the greatest novice in the schools durst not have mentioned without blushing. On the one hand, attacking the greatest men, open- ing a wide field for th^m to labour in, leading them into devious and rugged paths, and, if not going be- yond them, giving them a world of pains to keep pace with hitn : on the other hand, quoting the mean- est geniusses, ojBering a profusion of incense to them, blotting his writings witii names that had never been pronounced by learned lips. On the one hand, free, ftt least in appearance, from every disposition contra- ry to the spirit of the gospel, chaste in his manners, l^rave in tus conversation, temperate in his diet, and austere in his usual course of life : on the other, employing all the aeuteness of his genius to oppose good morals, aijd to attack chastity, modesty, and all other christian virtues. Sometimes appealing to a tribunal of the most rigid orthodoxy, deriving ar- guments from the purest sources, and quoting divines of the most unsuspected soundness in* the faith : at other times, travelling in the high road of heretics, reviving the objections of ancient heresiarchs, forging them new armour, and uniting in one body the er- rors of past ages with those of the present time. O that this man, who was endowed with so many talents, may have been forgiven by God for the bad use he made of them ! May that Jesus, whom he so often attacked, have expiated his crimes! But, though charity constrains us to hope and wish for his salva- tion, the honour of our holy religion obliges us pub- :3%e Harmony (fRdigum mdavaPm^. lied licly to. declare that he abused his own understani^ ing ; to protest, before heaven and earth, that wd disown him as a member of our reformed churchefl^ and that we shall always consider a part of his wri- tings as a scandal to good men, and as a pest of the church. We return to our prophet Let us employ a few moments in reflecting on the truths we have heard. Thanks be to God, my brethren, we have better means of knowing the righteousness that exalts a no- tioUy and more motives to practise it, than all the na- tions of whose glory we have been hearing. They bad only a superficial, debased, confused knowledge of the virtues which constitute substantial grandeur ; and, as they held errors in religion, they must ne^ cessarily have eiTed in civil polity. €rod, glory be to his name ! hath placed at the head of our councils the most perfect legislator that ever held the reins of government in the worJd. This legislator is Je- sus Christ. His kingdom, indeed, is not of this world ; but the rules he has given us to arrive at that, are proper to render us happy in the present state. When he says, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all other things shall. be added to you," Matt. vi. 33. he gives tlie command, and makes the pr6mise to whole nations as well as to in^ dividuals. - . Who ever carried so far as this divine legislator ideas of the virtues of which we have been treating ia several parts of this discourse, and by practising which nations are exalted ? Who ever formed such Just notions of that benevolence, that love of social good» Ibat genercMBity to etiemied^ that contenftpt of life, that wisdom, tfaat Teneration for noble exploits, ittiet docility and frugality, that devotedness to pub- lic lite, that distance from false glory, that magna- nimity, and all the other virtues which render anti- quity venerable to us? Who ever gave such wise iostructidn to kings and sul:gects, magistrates and {People, lawyers and merchants, soldiers and states- men, the world and the church ? We know these vir- tues belter than any other people in the world. We are able to carry our glory far beyond Egyptians imd Persians, Assyrians and Medes, Lacedemoni- uns, Athenians, and Romans ; if not that sort of glo- ry which glares and dazdes, at least that which makes iranquil and happy, and procures a felicity far more agreeaUe than all the pageantry of heroism and worldly splendour. Christians, let not these be mere speculations to us. Let us endeavour to -reduce them to practice. Never let us suffer our political principles to clash with the principles of our religion. Far from us, and far from us for ever be the abominable maxims df that pernicious Florentine,=^ who gave statesmen auch fatal lessons as these: A prince who would maintain his dignity, ought to learn not to be virtu^ ous, when affairs of state require him to practise vice ; he ought to be frugal witli his own private for- tune, and liberal with public money ; he ought never to keep his word to his own disadvantage; he ought not so much to aspire at virtue as at the semblance * IVJachiavcl. Prince xv. xvi. xrii. I The Harmomf & of it ; he ought to be apparently merciful, faitbfol^ sincere, and religious, but really the direct opposite ; that he cannot possibly practise what are accounted Tirtues in other men, because necessity of state will often oblige him to act contrary to charity, humani- ty, and religion ; he ought to yield to the various changes of fortune, to do right as often as he can, but not to scruple doing wrong when need requires^ I say agaiq^ far from us be these abominable maK- ims ! Let us obey the precepts of Jesus Christ, aild by so doing let us draw down blessings on this na- tion more pure and perfect than those which we rtow enjoy. The blessings we now enjoy, and which providence bestowed on us so atiundanlly a few days ago,t should inspire us with lasting gratitude; however, my brethren, they are not, they ought not to be the full accomplishment of our wishes. Such laurels as we aspire at are not gathered in fields of battle. The path to that eminence to which we travel, is not covered with human gore. The acclamations we love are not excited by wars and rumours of wars, the clangour of arms, and the shouting of armed men. Were our pleasure, though not of the purest sort, perfect in its own kind, we should experience a rise in happiness! But can we enjoy our victories with- out mourning for Ihe miseries which procured them! Our triuff^hs indeed abase and confound our ene- mies, and naake them lick the dUst; yet these very t At the tattle of Ramilies, May 23, 1706. fl06 The Bmiumy of JRdigian and CivU Poia^. triumphs present one dark side to us. Witness the many wounds which I should make a point of not opening, were it not a relief to mourners to hear of tbeir suflferings, were it not equitable to declare to thofie whose sorrows have procured our joy, that we rmiember them, that we are concerned for them, that we sympathize with them, that we are not so taken up with public joy as to forget private woe. Witness^ I say, so many desolate houses among us. Witness this mourning in which so many of us ap- pear to-day. Witness these affectionate Josephs, who lament the death of their parents. Witness these Marys and Marthas weeping at the tomb of Lazarus. Witness these distressed Davids, who weep as they go, and eiclaun, " O Absalom my son ! my son Absalom ! would God I had died for thee ! O Absalom my son, my son!" 2 Sam. xviii. 33. "IVitness these Rachels, who make Rama echo with their cries, " refusing to be comforted, because their children are not," Jer. xxxi. 15. My dear brethren, on whom the hand of God is heavy, ye sorrowful Naomis, ye melancholy Maras, with whom the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly, Ruth i. 20. we share your griefs, we mix our tears with yours, we feel all the blows that strike you. O fat^ victory! O bloody glory! you are not fruits of righteousness. Christians, if our joy be mixed, it is because our righieousncss is mixed. Let us not search for our misfortunes in any other cause. Let us do, when any thing is wanting to complete our joy, what the ancient people of God did, whenever they were con- 7%e Harmony ofReKgion and CmtPolUtf. 207 quered. The congregation was assembled, tlie epbod was put on, the oracle was consulted, inqiatt- lion was made from tribe to tribe, from family to family, from house to bouse, from person to person, who it was, whose sin had caused the lo6s of the vio* tory, or the loss of a regiment ; and when he was discovered, he was put to death. Joshua, after be had met with a repulse before Ai, andhad lost thirty* six men, rent his garments, and lay on his face upoih the earth, before the ark of the Lord. In like man- ner, let us, my brethren, at the remembrance of in- fected countries, fields of battle covered with car- cases, rivers of blood dying the soil, confused heaps of dead and dying fellow-creatures, new globes of fire flying in the air, let us examine ourselves. Hap- py if, as in the case just now mentioned, only t)ne criminal could be found among many thousands of innocent persons ! Alas ! we are obliged, on the con- trary, to lament, that there is hardly one innocent aniong thousands of the guilty. Where is the* Achan who embitters the glorious and immortal victories which God grants to Israel? What tribe, what family,what house shall be taken ? Is it the magistrate ? Is it the people ? Is it the pas* tor ? Is it the flock ? Is it the merchant ? Is it the soldier? Ah! my brethren! do you not hear the oracle of the Lord answering fi-om the terrible tri- bunal erected in your own consciences? It is the ma- gistrate ; it is the people ; it is the pastor ; it is the flock ; it is the merchant; it is the soldier. It is that magistrate, who, being required to have always before his eyes that God by whom kinj^s 908 7%e Namony qf MeUgwn and Civil PaiUii. le^i^and that throne before which the greatest mou - arcbs of the world muat be judged, is dazsled with hiflf own gmodeqr, governed by a worldly policy, smd hath more at heart io enforce the observation of bis own capricious orders than those rules of eternal rectitude which secure the safety and happiness of a nation. It is that people who, instead of considerif^ the felicity of that nation whose God is the Jjordy are at- leurtitrs. 215 against them ; to the plots, which are fohned againdt' their happiness ; to the reverses of fortune, to whidk. they are exposed ; to the treachery of such friends as surround them, and to the endless vicissitudes, which they experience. In general, a man must be indifferent to peace, at least, he must know but little in what it consists, to seek it in pomp and worldly grandeuri I forgive a youi^ man of fifteen or twen- ty for making such a mistake. At that time of life young men deserve pity ; their eyes are too childish not to be dazzled by a false glare ; they have hot- then learnt to know appearances from realities by their own experience, or by the experience of otherd. They do not then know, that happiness consists in a private condition^ a moderate revenue, a few tried friends, a chosen circle, a few relations, busi- ness enough to preserve vigour of mind without fatiguing it, a wisely directed solitude, moderate studies, in a word, in a happy mediocrity. My brethren, independence is the blessing, which deserves to be first of all chosen by us, should God leave to our choice the kind of life which we ought to follow ; or if he did not frequently intend by placing us on earth more to exercise our patience than to consum-^ mate our felicity. O delicious independence, O in-' estimable mediocrity ! I prefer you before the most glorious sceptre, the best established throne, the most brilliant crown! What are those eminent posts of which the greatest part of mankind are so fond ? They are golden chains, splendid punishments, bril* liant prisons and dungeons. Happy he, who, having received from providence blessings sufficient for bis ^ 216 Tht Lives of QnsrtUrs^ rank, easy with bis fortune, fiaur from courts and graodeunt, waits with tranquillity for death; and, while he enjoys the innocent pleasures of life, knows how to make eternity his ^»nd study, and his prin- cipal occupation. 3. A wise man will always conuder a court, and eminent posts, as dangerous to his salvation*'. It is in a court, it is in eminent posts, that, generally i^MBaking, the most dangerous snares are set for con- science. Here it is that men usually abandon ikubm" selTes to their passions, because here it is that they are gratified with the utmost ease* Here it is that man is tempted to consider himself as a being of a particular kind, and infinitely superior to those who crawl among the yulgar. It is here where each learns to play the tyrant in his turn, and where the courtier indemnifies himself for the slavish mortifi- cations to which his prince reduces him, by enslav- ing all his dependents. Here it is that secret in- trigues, underhand practices, bloody designs, dark and criminal plots are formed, of which innocence is usually the victim. Here it is that the most per- mcious maxims are in the greatest credit^ and the most scandalous examples in the highest reputation. Here it is that every disposition of mind changes, if not its nature, at least its appearance, by the false colouring with which all are di^uised. Here it is that every one breathes the venom of flattery, and that every one loves to receive it Here imagina- tion prostrates itself before fiivolous deities, and unworthy idols receive such supreme homage as is due to none but the sovereign God. Here it is that The Lives 6f Courtiers. 317 the soiil is affected with many a seducing image, the troublesome remembrance of which often wholly engrosses the mind, especially when we wish to noiii^ ish it with such meditations as are suited to immor^ tal intelligences. Here a confused noise, an infalli- ble consequence of living in the tumult of the world, gets possession of the mind, and renders it extreme^ ly difficult to relish that silent retirement, that ab^ straction of thought, which are absolutely necessary to self-examination, and to the study of our own hearts. Here it is that men are carried away id spite of themselves by a torrent of vicious example^ v^iiich, being thought, and called by every body about tliem illustrious, authorise the most criminal actions, and insensibly destroy that tenderness of conscience, and dread of sin, which are very power" ful motives to keep us in the practice of virtuf- These general maxims admit of some exception in regard to Chimham. He saw in the person of hid king, the virtues of a pastor, and the excellence offc propliet. David's court was an advantageous school for him on many accounts : but yet was it altogeth- er exempt from all the dangers we have mentioned? O Chimham, Chimbam, I will not detain tliee in the port, when providence calls thee to set sail ! But that sea, with the dangers of which thou art going to ei>- gage, hath many, many rocks, and among them, alas! there have been innumerable shipwrecks. 3. A wise man will never enter a court or accept of an eminent post, without fixed resolutions to surmount the temptations, with which they are ae^ companied, and without using proper measures- ie voju nr. 28 218 Tht Lives ^ Courtiers. succeed in his design. Far from us forever be, my brethren, that disposition of mind, which by fix- ing the eye upon the prince, makes us lose sight of him, ^' by whom kings reign, and princes decree justice!" Prov. viii. 15. Far from us be such an avidity to make our fortunes as to engage us to forget that we have souls to save, and an eternal interest to pursue ! Far from us be that desire of elevating our- selves in this world, which debaseth the dignity of eur nature, and inclines us to practices unworthy of Hien whom the God of heaven and earth hath called into his family ! Those holy men who are proposed to us for examples, have been sometimes at court, and they have sometimes exercised the highest office? of state, but they have always made it an inviolable law to set before their eyes that God, in the presence of whom "all nations are as a drop of a bucket, and as the small dust of the balance," Isa, xl. 15. Moses was at court ; but it was with that heroical firmness, with that noble pride, with that magnanimity which became him whom the Lord of hosts had chosen for his mes- senger, and placed at the head of his people. Moses was at court ; but it was to say to Pharaoh, "Let my people go that they may serve me. Let my people go. And if thou refuse to let them go, behold, I will smite all thy borders with frogs. They shall come into thine house, and into thy bed-chamber, and upon thy bed, and into the house of thy servants. Let my people go, or the hand of the Lord shall be upon thy cattle, upon thy horses, upon the asses, up- on the camels, upon the oxen, and upon the sheep, and there shall be a very grievous murrain," Exod. The Lives of Courtiers. 219 vii. 16. yiii. 2. and ix. 3. Nathan was at court; but it was to say to David, *' Thou art the man ; where- fore hast thou despised the commandment of thj0 Lord to do evil in his sight ?" 2 Sam. xii. 7, 9. Elif jah was at court ; but it was to resist Ahab, who said to him, '' Art thou he that troubleth Israel ?' No» replied he, ^^ I have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's house^ in that ye have forsaken the com- mandments of the Lord, and thou hast followed Baalim," 1 Kings xviii. 17, 18. Micaiah was aA court ; but it was to resist the projects of an jamhF tioiii^ prince, and to say to him, ^^I saw all Israd scattered upon the hills, as sheep that have not a shepherd," chap. xxii. 17. Jehu was at court; but it was to mortify Joram, who asked him, Is it peace ? ^ What peace," replied he, " What peace, so long as the whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel, and her witchcrafts are so many ?" 2 Kings ix. 22. John the Baptist was at court. ; but he went thither to tell Herod, " It is not lawful for thee to have thy brotb** er'swife," Mark vi. 18. Some of these holy men have filled the highest posts, and discharged the most important offices of state ; but they have done so with that integrity of mind, and with that piety and fervour of hear^ which would seem incompatible with worldly gran- deur, were we not informed, that to the pure ali Ihingaare pure, and that God knows how to presan^e the piety of bis elect amidst the greatest dang^r% wbep zeal for bis glory engagetb them to e^tpose themselves for his sake. Samuel discharged impor- tant offices, he occupied an eminent post^ but Im, JB20 The Lives of Courtiers. could render a faithful account of his administration, and ventured to face the people with this noble ap- peal, *^ Behold, here I am, witness against me before the Lord, and before his anointed; whose ox have I taken ? or whose ass have I taken ? or whom have I defrauded ? ' whom have I oppressed ? 1 Sam. xii. 3, 4. And what is. more than all this, and what we wish to inculcate more than all this, is what he sub- joins, ** of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith ? and I will restore it you." To which the people replied, "Thou hast not de- frauded us, nor oppressed us, neither hast thou taken ought of any man*s hand.*^ Nehemiah was elevated to high offices, he was even a favourite of the king ; but be availed himself of his elevation to procure the rebuilding of Jerusalem, and the restitution of divine worship in the temple. When the idola- trous prince put this question to him, Why is thy countenance sad ? He replied, " Why should ' not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of iny father's sepulchres, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed with fire ?*' Ne- hem. ii. 2, 3. Daniel filled an high office, even in an idolatrous court ; but there he continued his humble diet ; he would not hold his office at the ex- petice of his conscienoe ; amidst the tumult of the world he knew how to manage his affairs so as to jSnd time to understand hy books the immber of the years predicted by the prophets, to attend to the condition of Jerusalem, to make supplication with fastingy and sackcloth^ and a^hesf. Is there any one pf you, ipy brethren, so much master of himself? The Lives of CaurUerK. 221 Have you courage enough to resist so many ene- mies? Are you able to withstand so many tempta^ tions, and to escape all these dangers ? Go then, not only to the courts of Davids, but to those of the most profligate princes. Oo, shine as lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation ; go, be the salt of the earth ; rise, not only to the great ofBceV of state, but ascend a throne, take the goverament and reign. 4. The evils which embitter the lives of courtier^ and of all who are elevated to eminent posts, and (what may seem a paradox,) the hazard of being damned among human grandeurs, ought not to dis- courage those from occupying the highest offices who are capable of doing great good to society and the church. The first part of this proposition is indisputable. The difficulties which belong to the Jives of cour- tiers, and'of all persons elevated to eminent posts, ought not to discourage those who are able to benefit society and the church. It is clear, I think,>to all who know the first principles of Christianity, that the design of God in placing us in the world was not to enable us to follow that kind of life which is the most conformable to our inclinations, though such a kind of life should have nothing in it contra- ry to the laws of God. God intended to exercise U8 in a painful state of probation. I allow, virtue has charms of its own, and often brings its reward along with it in this ^vorld ; but also it often requires us to mortify our dearest passions, and our strongest M- t'liniitions. How pfien, by the heavy afflictions in 222 Tk& Lives of CourHers. ivbich piety involves us, is that celebrated expression of an apostle verified, '' If in ibis life only we have bope in Cbrist, we are of all men most miserable/' 1 Cor. XV. 19. A good man will consult, when be is cboosing a course of life, (and you wiH have spent tbis hour well, my brethren, if you retain only this maxim, and reduce it to practice.) A good man, wben be is choosing a course of life, will consult not what will render his family most illustrious, not what will be most likely to transmit bis name to posterity, not what will most advance his fortune, and will best j^tify his own inclinations, but what will be most useful to society and religion. Do not say the plea- sures of a court are insipid, the life of a courtier is intolerable, perpetual consultations are burdensome, a multitude of business is tiresome ; ceremonies dis- gust me, splendid titles give me pain ; I like a tran- quil life, I prefer obscurity and quiet, I love to cul- tivate my garden, and to spend much of my time in reading and retirement. Noble effort of devotion, indeed ! to choose temporal tranquillity as the chief end of your studies and actions ! And, pray, what benefit do religion and the state derive from your reading your books and cultivating your flowers? What! is it a questian between God an^ you, wheth- er the course of life, that he prescribes to you, be disagreeable to you, whether perpetual consultations be troublesome, whether much business fatigues, whether ceremonies disgust, and whether titles be unsatisfying to you? Is this the dispute between God and you ? Is the question, what kind of life you prefer ? Do you suppose, if God had left to The Lives of Courtiers. 223 the martyrs the choice of what course they wouM have taken through life, they would have choseft that, to which God called them ? Would thev have preferred before every other path that, in whicb "they were stoned, sawn asunder, tempted, slain with the sword,** would they have " wandered about in sheep-skins, and goat-skins^ destitute, a^ flitted, and tormented?" Heb. xi, 37/ You say, you shall become a martyr, if you execute the di- evated office to which you are called. Very weB, God calls you to this martyrdom. The first part of our proposition is indisputable. The disagreeables in the lives of courtiers, and of all other persons elevated to eminent posts, ought not to deter any man from accepting an office, when it is probable be may, by discharging it well, do great good to socie- ty in general, and to the church in particular. I go further, and I maintain the second part of the proposition. The snares, which are thick set in high life, and which endanger our salvation, ought not to deter us from accepting high offices, when we can do good to society and the church by executing them. There is some difficulty in this subject, we will endeavour to explain il. Our principal concern is to be saved. Our highest engagement is to avoid every thing that would endanger our salvation. Our first exercise should be diffidence, distrust of our- selves. The son of Sirach hath taught us, that be> ** who loved danger shall perish therein," Ecclus. iii. 26. What law, th^n, can oblige us to pursue a couf%e of life, which all assure us is almost impassable to men who would walk in the way of salvation ? Is it 224 The JUpes of Courtiers. not presumption, is it not tempting God to expose one's self in this manner ? I reply, it is presumption, it is a tempting of God, to expose one's self to , danger, when no good will Qome of it- For example, you know by experience, that if gaming were innocent in itself, it is, however, dangerous to you; that always, when you allow yourself to game, you receive some injury, you ei- ther play with an avidity of gain too great, or you lose all patience with the loss of your money, or, some way or other, your mind is always disconcert^- ed. Leave ' off gaming then. What good do you do to society at large, t)r to the church in particular, by your gaming? Were it probable, that in fiiture you should always escape unhurt, even.a probability of suffering is enough to deter you, and you cannot expose yourself without a presumptuous tempting of God. Again, you know, by sad experience, that the company you keep is fatal to you ; that always, when you are in it, you violate the laws of piety, charity, and modesty. Quit this company then. What good is done to the state and the church by your frequenting this company. Were it probable that in future you should receive no damage, the bare probability that you might, ought to induce you to avoid it. In like manner, you are convinced that your opponent, who is, as well as yourself, a can- didate for a certgiin office, will execute it as well as you would. The office is dangerous, and you fear you have not virtue enough to execute it with safety to your salvation. Renounce your pretensions then. Choose a way of life less dangerous. The Lives of Courtiers. 225 Lot us go a step further. It is rash, it is tempting God to expose ourselves to difficulties which caimot IK>ssibIy be surmounted^ A pretence of doing good to the state and the church will not alter the case. A court is pestiferous. A king, who ought to maintaid order, lives only to subvert it ; he consults no law but his passions, and his will is his only reason. Toil may, perhaps, moderate his passions, if not wholly regulate them ; you may, perhaps, if not wholly ter* minate the misfortunes of his reign, yet diminish them, fiut how must you procure this advantage? You must rise into an opportunity to do good^ by beconiing yourself an instruoient of his extortion^ by passing encomiums on his guilty pleasures, hf disgracing yourself to become the panegyrist of bia tyranny. In such a case, it would be better to quit the court, to give up the favour of such a prince, to. obey the divine laws, and to leave the govemment of the world to God. It must be granted that, when crimes are necessary to public good, it is not you who are appointed to commit them, this is not your calling. '' O my soul, come not thou into their se» cret, unto their assembly mine honor be not thou united," Gen. xlix. 6. But, when temptations are surniountable, when God offers to assist us to surmount them, when no- thing but our own idleness can prevent our conquer- ing, and wiien we are able, by exposing ourselves to danger, to serve society aild the church. I affirm, that we are then called to expose ourselves, and to meet, resist, aiid surmount all difficulties. I affirm, in such a case, it is our duty not to avoid, but to ap- TGI. IV. 29 226 The Lives of Courtiers, ptx>ach difficulties^ and to take pains to sUrinoufnf ibem. A minister of the gospel hath more difficul- ty itt his way of salvation than a prirate person- A prirate christian, in general, is responsible only for his own soul ; but a minister of the gospel is ac- eotintable for the soiils of all whom God hath com- ibitted to his care. Every part of his office is a fltource of difficulties and trials. If he have great abilities, I fear he will become vain ; if he have not, I fear he Will envy his superiors. If he be set in dome conspicuous place, I fear his feeble eyes will tie dazkled with his situation ; if he live in obscurity, I fear he will sink into indifference. If he be ap- ik>inted to speak to the great, I fear he w ill become ^li&nt and mean; if hie be confined to people of or- trnary rank, I fear he will become indifferent to their souls, and not take sufficient pains to procure the salvation of them. Snares and temptations eve- ty where ! Who is svfficient for these things ? But i^hdX ! must a man then bury his talents lest he should abuse them ? No. This is not to choose the way by which it is the pleasure of God to save us. It doth not belong to us to choose what kind of vir- tue he shall think fit to exercise. The duty of a christian is, not to omit the acquisition of knowledge, but to ewieavour not to be puffed up with it. It is not to avoid conspicuous places, but to guard against being infatuated with them. It is not to flee from the notice of the great, but to watch against servili- ty and meanly cringing in their presence. In like manner, you are sure you may be very u«!eful to religion and society by filling a high office.- The Idves of Cauftiers^ 227 You are aware of the intrigues of ^ court. You are certain that, if the small number of virtuous men, who fill high offices. Were to retire from public bU^ siness, the state would be abandoned to injustice and oppression, and become the prey of tyrants. You are one of these tirtuous characters. You ought then to fill this post, and the difficulties you meet with cannot dispense with your obligation. I repeat it again, it doth not bialong to us to choose the way in which it shall be the pleasure of God to save us. It is not our business to single out a particular virtue, and insist on such a course of life as shall exei^cise it: whether it be a noisy or a silent path, whether it be a frequented or a solitary way, wbether it be the practice of public or of private virtue. But, say you, I. cannot help, while I execute this office, my impatience ; I am obliged to give audience to a man who torments me with tedious and confused har- angues in a course of business ; I wish to eradicate this evil, and to get rid of this trial of my patience, by quitting my place. No, do not get rid of this man : do not quit your place : but take pains with yourself to correct your impatience : try to cool your blood, and regulate your spirits. It is by the way of patience th^ God will save you. But I shaH not have courage to plead all alone for rectitude, I shall have the weakness to sacrifice it, if it should happen at any time not to be supported by others. I wUl eradicate this evil, and avoid the temptation by quitting my employment. No. Do not quit an employment in which your influence may be service- able to the interests of virtue; but take pains with 2SB The JAves of Courtiers. vour own heart, and subdue it to the service of recti- tude, that you may be able to plead for virtue with- out a second. But I shall certainly sink under temp- tation, unless God afford me extraordinary supports Well, ask for extraordinary support then ; you have a right to expect it, because the place you fill ren- ders it necessary for the glory of God. Let us fin- WcL this article, and let us form a clear notion of what we mean by a caUing. That place, in which it IS probable, all things considered, we can do most good, is the place to which providence calls us. To fill that is our calling. This establishes our fourth maxim, tiiat the. evils which imbitter the lives of courtiers, and of all who are elevated to eminent posts, the danger of perishing by th^ ills which ac- company human grandeurs, ought not to deter from occupying them such persons as have it in their power to render signal services to the state and the church. Thus we have made a few reflections servinfic to deteriYiine how far the honours and affairs of a court suit a young man. Let us proceed to shew that they are improper for an old man. This is the prin-r cipal design of the text. " The king said unto Barr zillai. Come thou over with me, and I will feed thee with me in Jerusalem. And Barzillai said unto the king, How long have I to live, that I should go up with the king unto Jerusalem ? I am this day four- score years old ; and can I discern between good and eyil ? can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ? can I hear any more the voice of singing ipen and pinging women ? wheilfore then should ihy The Lives af Courtiers. 229 servant be yet a burden unto my lord the king ? Thy servant will go a little way over Jordan with the king ; and why should the king recompense it me with such a reward? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and of my mother." This is the subject of our second part. Were it proper for me, my brethren, to make a digression from the principal object of our present attention, I could not deny myself the pleasure of making an observation of another kind. Before I spoke of Barzillai, who modestly refused human grandeur, I should speak of the gratitude of David, who, to his praise be it spoken, made him the offer. This latter example deserves consideration, my brethren, were it only for its singularity. Gratitude is very rare among princes, it is not a virtue at court. Devote yourselves, poor courtiers! I say, devote yourselves sincerely and heartily to earthly princetS, devote to them your rest, your fortune, your lives; be lavish of your blood in their service ; for their security and glory, expose yourselves in the most desperate undertakings, attempt the most bloody sieges and battles ; what will you find princes after aH your services ? Ingrates. Do not expect to meet with a David eager to give you substantial proofs of his gratitude, to say to you, " Come over with me^ and I will feed you with me in Jerusalem ;" to per- I)etuate his goodness, to transmit it to your posteri- ty, and to say to his successor, '^ Shew kindness un- to > the sons of Barzillia, and let them be of those that eat at t^y table." How often do partiality and The Lives of Courtiers. intrigue prevail, in the distribution of royal favours, over reason and equity ? How often are the children of those, who, with a generous courage sacrificed their lives for the public good, obliged to beg their bread. How often have they urged in vain the mer- itorious services of their parents ; how often have they without success produced blood yet warm shed for the public safety ? How often have they in vain idepianded that subsistence from charity, which they ll^ a right to expect from equity ? David, distin- gi^shed among all believers, distinguishes himself also among all kings. '^ Come over Jordan with toe,*' said he to Barzillai, " and I will feed you with ipe in Jerusalem.'* A king thus offering grandeurs from a princi- ple of gratitude is an uncommon sight. It is, perhaps a sight more unusual than that of a man refusing them from a principle of wise modera- tion. " How long have I to live," replies good Barzillai, '^ that I should go up with the king un- to Jerusalem? lam this day fourscore years old; and can I discern between good and evil? can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ? can I hear any more the voice of singing men and singing women ? wherefore then should thy servant be yet a burden to my lord the king? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and of my mother." His reftisal proceeds from three causes; the insensibility of old age, the misfortune of old age, and the nearness of old age to death. '^ I am fourscore years ofage;can I discern between The I4ves of Courtiers. 231 good and evil? can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ? can I liear any more the voice of sing- ing men and singing women ?" This is the insensi- bility of old age, and the first cause of his refusal. ** Why should thy servant be a burden to my lord the king ?" This is the misfortune of old age, and the second cause of his refusal* " How long have I to live? I pray thee let Ihy ser^ vant return, *and let me die in mine own city, and be buried by my father and my mother.'* This is the nearness of old age to death, and this is the third cause of his refusal. These are three sources of many reflections. 1. The insensibility of old age is the first cause of Ihe refusal of Barzillai. " I am this day fourscore years of age : can I discern between good and evil ? can I hear any more the voice of ^nging men and singing women?'' This insensibility may proceed either from a principle of wisdom, or from constitu- tion. It may proceed, first, from wisdom. A man, who hath experienced the vanity of human gran- deur ; a man, who hath often asked himself, of what use is this kind of life ? what good comes of this pomp and pleasure ? a man, who, by frequently re- flecting on all he sees and hears, hath formed a just notion of man, and of his real wants, a man, whose reiterated meditations have purified his taste, and formed in him a habit . of employing himself about things of importance ; such a man does not enter- tain a very high idea of the privilege of living with the great, of eating at their tables, and of partici- pating theu* pleasures. Only such pleasures as have 232 Tlie Lives of Courtitr^ God immediately for their ol^^ct, and eleruity for their end, can always satisfy. Such pleasures are approved by reason, ripened by age, and sucb pleas- ures are satisfactory at all times, and in all stages of fife. All other pleasures are fatiguing, and in the eDd extremely disgustful. ^^ Can I hear any more the Toice of singing men, and singing women ? Why should the king recompense me with such a re- waixl ?'' But there is also a constitutional insensibility. The senses, which transmit pleasures to us, become blunt, and pleasures are blunted with them. Indeed, we sometimes see old people, to the shame of hu- man nature, pretending to rise above the ruins of a decaying body, and trying to support the inconven- iences of old age by the pleasures of youth. We sometimes see men, whose relaxed and trembling hands are too feeble to hold a box of dice, or a hand of canls, supported by others, and gaming with a part of themselves, as they cannot do so with the whole. We have seen some, who, not being able to go themselves to a play, have caused them- selves to be carried thither, exposing their extrava- gance on a theatre, intended fpr the exhibition of other scenes, and so acting a real tragedy along with a fictitious one. We have seen some, who, having bodies decaying with diseases contracted by youth- ful passions, or, to use an emphatical expression of an apostle, having " received within themselves that recompense of their error, which was meet,*' cover- ed with wounds brought upon themselves by their debaucheries ; we have soen them trying lo divert The Lives of Couttierf. 23^ r the pain reflecting on the cause of their decline by the abslird method of gazing still on the very ob* jects, which were first fatal to their innocence, uuA by glutting their imaginations now. their sensiBS cqiil relish no more. We have seen men dedicate tftr last mon^ents of life to the gdd of pleasure, just an tliiey sacrificed their youth and manhood to the same deity. We have seen old men, who, too dim-jsigbt-^ ed themselves to see the glitter of diamonds and jewels, have taken a pleasure in exposing the br^ liancy of them to the eye^ of others ; who, not havUiS a body to adorn, have ornamented a skeleton, andwbo^ lest they should be taken for dead corpses, have decked themselves with trinkets fit only for people in the vigour of life. However, these shameful j^e- nomena do not destroy our reflection. It is always true, that pleasure loses its point at a certain age^ If the old men, of whom we have been speaking, yet love pleasure, it is not taste that tempts them. Like the inhabitants of the most abominable city that ever disgraced the world, they weary themselves, though they were some time ago struck blind, to find the door, the door of Lot, towards which their bru-* tal passions had given a direction to their bodies, be- fore they lost their sight. They act thus, because, though musical entertainments no more delight their ears, yet they keep them from hearing the cries of conscience, which would rend them asunder. They act thus, because, though they have only a confuse^ sight of the charms of worldly objects, yet these db* jects serve, like a wall, to keep out of sight a future, world, a glirnmering of which wpuld coo/biind a^L roL. IT. 30 334 The Lms (sf Gonriiers. distract them. However, the irregularity of the heiirt of an old man doth not alter the infirmities of Ids body. It is always true, that at a certain time of life, we acquire a constitutional, organical insensi- bifity. Isaac, that good old man, arrives at a yeiy advanced age, but bis eyes are become dim, he can- iklt distinguish one of his children from another, he mbtakes the hands of Jacob for those of Esau, ^^ the iN>ke is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau,*' Gen. xxvii. 22. He cannot distin- guish venison from goafs flesh. He confers that benediction on the youngest which he intended for tbe eldest. If nature grants to a few of mankind ttie privilege of a very long life^the privilege is sold, and a part of the pleasure of living must be given for the purchase ; objects of pleasure must retire, and senses to be pleased with these objects not uu- ft-equently retire first* Before this earthly house &lls by ils own frailty, to use an expression of the wise man, " the years arrive in which we are obliged to say, we have no pleasure,'* Eccl. xii. 1. &c. Then, according to the description of the same author, *Mhe sun, the moon, and the stars are darkened, and the clouds return not after the rain. The keepers of his house," that is, the hands, " tremble ; his str^ong men," that is his legs and feet, " bow them- selves; his grinders," that is, his teeth, "cease to per- form their functions, because they are few ; those that look out of the windows," that isj the eyes, *'are darkened; the doors," that is, the ears, "shall be shut in the streets ; the daughters of music," that is, the oi^ans of speech, " sliall be brought low; the al- mond tree shall flourish/' that is, the bead shall be« come white with age ; *Uhe silver cord ,'* that i^ the spinal marrow, ^^ shall be broken ; the grasshopper^** that is, the stomach, '^ sliall be a burden ; the goldea bowl,'* the brain, ** shall be broken ; the pitcher/* th^t is,, the lungs, ^^ shall be broken at the fountain 4 and the wheel," the heart, '* shall be broken at tbo cistern.** A sad, but natural description, my brettb ren, of the infirmities of old age. ^ A condition yer/ unfit for the world and pleasure, for business and jn court* *' How long have I to live, that I should go up with the king unto Jerusalem ? I am this dajp fourscore years old, and can I discern between good and evil ? can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ? can I hear any more the voice df singifig men and singing women ?" ± The bitter misfortunes of old age are a i^cond reason of the refusal of Barzillai. " Why should thy servant be a burden to my lord the king ?** Cer* tainly an old man ought to be treated with the greatest respect and caution. The scripture gives us a precept, which humanity, to say nothing of reli* gion, should induce us to obey : ^^ Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man/' Lev. xix. 32. Wliat can claim our patient attention so much as a man stoop ing under the weight of age and infirmities ? What duty can be more indispensable than that of rel^ dering to the infirmities of old age such assistance as these old people once rendered to the helplessness of our infancy ? Particularly, what can be more vei^ erable than an old man, who hath spent his youth %X Tke Lmsof Courtiers. HI procuring^ those benefits to society which his old Hge now hardly suffers him to enjoy ? What mote just than to respect a soldier grown grey in arms, whose venerable silrer head hath been preserved by mira- clie ? Who more worthy of esteem than an ancient magistrates whose life hath been devoted to the feli- city of the state ? What more respectable than an old minister of the gospel, whose spirits have been exhausted in studying and preaching the truth ? To people of this character the words of the wise man belong, ^' the hoary head is a crown of glor}% being fiMud in the way of righteousness," Pro v. xvi. 31, - Whatever idea Barzillai formed of the equity and benevolence of David, he did justice to himself. lie well knew that a man of eighty would be a bur- den to this good king. " Why should thy servant be a burden to my lord the king ?" A man at this time of life too strikingly exhibits human infirmitiefs to give pleasure in circles of company, where such mortifying ideas are either quite forgotten, or siightr ly remembered. The tokens of death, which an old man carries about with him, excite reflections too dismal to contribute to the pleasure of a compa- ny, which endeavours to sweeten life by innocent recreations, or by others which concupiscence adds to those of religion. Involuntary complaints and sighs but ill accord with musical instruments and the vocal melody of gay assemblies. Pressing infirmi- ties, continual fears and cares, the anticipated dying of a map of fourscore, ill assort with sumptuous ta^ Wes. The last years of life, all heavy, dull, and ^t>^n/ disconcert 4 festival celebrated by people The Lwes of Caurlkri 237 full of fire, vivacity, and vigour, Barzillai feh fafe frailty, and, though he was fully convinced that Ba- vid had a fund of goodness sufficient to bear with him, y^t he would not abuse his politeness; ^ How long have I to live, that I should go up with the Ising to Jerusalem? Why should the king recrnn- pence me with such a reward ? Why should thy ser- vant be yet a burden to my lord the king ?^ Wo be to him who bath rendered worldly plem- ures necessary to him in old age. He will not find a David every where to offer them to him. Here, my brethren, Ifear sinning against my own princi- ples ; I fear being accused of wanting such venera- tion for the aged as I just now said was their due ; I fear I shall be taxed with despising the ancient, so worthy of our attention and regard. However, I must mention a few reflections tending to justify the conduct of Barzillai, and to unfold the spirit and sense of the text I must make these reflections, too, for other reasons; in general for the benefit of this whole assembly; for your sakes in particular, our aged hearers, that you may be induced, by the idea of a world that avoids you, to return to God, who opens his arms to receive you ; for your sakes, al- so, young people, that you may be prevailed on to amass pleasures in your youth which will remain with you in old age. Wo be to him, I say, who renders worldly pleasures necessary to his old age ! Happy, on the contrary, he, who hath laid up treasure for time to come! Happy the man, who hath pre- pared for hinriself pleasures for a time, when the pleawjfres of the world are insipid, and when he 838 7%e lAves if Cwrtim. binnielf is intolerable to those, who eqjoy them ? Happy he, who instead of pinii^ after the cufcles of the gay and the great, hath no other desire than that of makii^ bb court to tbe Kkig of kings! Happy he, who, instead of Bttempting to please lumself with At wnces of singing mm and singing iMHieti, delights himself with pious books and ho^ ly meditations! Haj^y the man> who, when he be* comes a burden to society, knows» like fiarzillai, bow to relish tbe pleasure of retirement and solitude! Happy he, who, instead of pursuing a fleeing pban* torn of felicity and glory, knows how to direct his dghs to the bosom of that God in whom substantial glory and true felicity dwell, objects wbkh never elude bis search ! Happy be, whose eyes, however weakened by age, are not become too dim-sighted to see the gate of heaven ! Happy the man, whose feltering voice and feeble bands can yet address this prayer to God, and say with a prophet, " Cast me not off in the time of old age, forsake me not when my strength failetb,*' Psal. Ixxix, 9. 3. In fine, my brethren, Barzillai revolved in his mind the nearness qf old age to death. This was the principal cause of his refusal. How long have I to live ? These words imply a retrospect, how long have I lived ? and a prospect, how long have I yet to live ? " I am this day fourscore years old. Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and my mother.*' This was a very reasonable request, my brethren, both in re- gard to the principle laid dowo^ and the consequence derived from it. The principle is, that there is very Uttle didtance between old age and death. So little^ that the good old man thought that there was but just time enough for him to pass over Jordan whk the king, to return back, and to prepare for his f«i$ neraL •* How long have I to live ? I am this day fourscore years cJd. Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city^ and be buried by the grave of my fether and my mother." Was ever principle better founded ? Hofr little 19 necessary to overset and break the frame of a man of this age ? What is necessary ? A vapour ! a puff of wind ! Let US' pause here a moment, my brethren, and let us not behold this spectacle without reflecting on the vanity of this life. A life of fourscore years ap- pears to me a most abundant source of reflections on human frailty. True it is, that diseases which consume us, sudden deaths, which cry to us, children of mmy return, and which cut off numbers before they have lived half their days, fires, shipwrecks, assassinations, epidemical diseases, all these are very proper to teach us what a little account we ought to make of the present life. But, how frequently so- ever these sad accidents happen, we generally take care to harden ourselves against any apprehensions of danger from them, by considering them as extras ordinary events, by hoping we shall escape theo^ and by &ttering ourselres that we shall arrive at a good old age. Well! you are to arrive at this good old age! But how many yean will elapse before you do arrive 240 ThelAm (f Qmttiefs. at it? No, no, I repeat it again, nothing is ipore proper to discover our frailty. Should a thousaj^ uncommon circumstances concur, should a vigorous constitution, a ivise and cautious course of action, and a proper choice of diet unite to preserve you to this age ; should you escape water, and fire, and thieves, and earthquakes^ the frailty of in&ncy, the impetuosity of youth, and the infinnities of ad van* Ced age; should you^ by a kind of miracle, arrive at the utmost limits prescribed to mankind^ what then? Must you not presently die ? The longest life seldom extends to a century. When a man hath liv- ed an hundred years in the world, he is the wonder of the universe, and his age alone renders him famous. The most obscure life becomes conspicuous, when it is drawn out to this length. It is spoken of as a prodigy, it is published in foreign countries ; history records the man, who had the extraordinary happi- ness to live to such an age, it writes his name with precision, and transmits his memory to the most dis- tant posterity ; it says, at such a time, in such a place lived a man, who attained his hundredth year. Af- ter this, he must die. Old age is an incurable mal- ady, and we are old at fourscore. O shadow of life, how vain art thou ! O grass ! how liltle a time dost thou flourish in our field! O wise and instructive prirtciple of Barzillai, There is very little distance between old age and death ! " How long have I to live, that I should go up with the king unto Jerusa- lem ? I am this day fourscore years old, I pray thee let me return, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and my mother." The Lkes of Ckwftwts. 2iil> But if (he principle of this good old man be well founded, the Consequence derived, from it isr better founded, that is, that worldly affairs do not suit a man drawing near the end of his life > that wbea death is so near, a man should be whoUy employed: in preparing for it« If Barzillai had been a wise man through the whole counse of his life,^ as we maj suppose he had, he had not put off till now a prepar* ation for this event, which is certainly the most se- rious and important of life. Even they who hav« lived the most regularly, and gone innocent through all the busy scenes of life, have long accounts to settle^ and questions of the last importance ta agi- tate, when they come to die. Every thing engagev Barzillai to avoid disconcerting himdelf in his lagt moments, and to devote the few that remain to seri- ousness. Yes, every thing engages him to do so ; and, to confine myself to some reflections^ the length of time he had lived, the cares of his mind at prea- ent, and the consolations arising from a meditation of death, all incline him to take leave of the kiqg and, the court, the pleasures and the business of the world, tables richly served, and concerts well per- formed, all incline him to think of nothing but death. 1. The long time he had lived. If the account which God requires every man to give at death, be terrible to all men, it should seem particularly so to old men. An old man is responsible for all the peri- ods of his life,^ all the circumstances he has been in, and all the connections he hath foraged. Then, be- fore a tribunal of impartial justice, will every in- VOL. IV. 31 249 TI^JA»€S €f Courtiers. 8l9si of that long life, which is now at an end^ be uamined. Then> will all the objects which time a^ems to hare buried in eternal silence be recalled to view. Then sins of youth, which have left no tiace on the mind, because the eagerness with which w« proceed to the commission of new crimes, does not allow time to examine what we have committed, then will they all rise out of that sort of annihilation in which they seemed to be lost Fourscore years spent in offending thee^ my Oodl^ said a dying man. Top true in the mouth of him who said so ! Too true in the mouths of most old men ! A motiye powerful enough to engage an old man to employ in peniten- tial exercises every moment which the patience of God yet affords^ and which, at his^ age, cannot be many. 2. The continual cares, which exercised the mind of Barzillai, were a second spring of his action. We consider riches as protectoi's from care : but in general tliey are the direct contrary. A rich man is obliged, as it were, to give himself wholly up to discover and defeat a general plot laid to engross his fortune. He must resist such as would violently force it from him. He must unmask others, who, under color of justice, and supported l>y law, in- volve him in law suits to (establish illegitimate claims. He must penetrate through a thousand pretences of generosity, disinterestedness and friendship, into4he soul of a false friend, who aims at nothing but grat- ifying his own avarice or ambition. He must watch * Mr. de Montausler. See the close of his funeral oration, bv Flechier, 7%€ Lives of Ckmrlien. 843 nigjbt and day to fix his riches, which having wings are always ready to fly away. How difficult is it for a soul, distracted with so many cares, to devote at much time to work out salvation afr a labor so im- portant requires ! How necessary is it 4o make up f^y retirement and recoUectioa in the last stages of life, what has been wanting in days of for* mer hurry, and which are now no more ! I re- collect, and I apply it to Barzillai, a saying of % captain, of whom historians have taken more care to record the wisdom than the name« It is said, that the saying struck the £mperor Charles V. and con* firmed him in his design of abdicating his crown, and retiring to a convent. The captain required the Emperor to discharge him from service. Charlei asked the reason. The prudent soldier replied, Because there ought to be a pause between the hurry (^ life and the day of death. 3. In fine, if. Barzillai seemed to anticipate thcr dying day, by continually meditating on the subject^ it was because the meditation, full of horror to most men, was full of charms to this good old man. When death is considered as accompanied with condem- natory sentences, formidable irreversible decrees, chains of darkness, insupportable tortures, smoke as- cending up forever and ever, blazing fires, remors6, rage, despair, desperate exclamations, ^'mountains and rocks, fall on us, and^ hide us from the face of fahn that sitteth on the throne, and from the wratb of the Lamb ; for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand ?" Rev. x. 11. and vi. 16, 17. When we consider death, as so many men. aU The Idm ^ Courtiers. wim i ought to consider it, and as by their eontinuai kr^ularities they prepare it for consideration, no ironder the thought is disagreeable, and must be put fkt away. But when death is considered, as some of you, my brethren, ought to consider it, you whose fiudts have been washed with penitential tears, and repaired by d real conrersion, your view of death 18 more deli^tful, and affords you more pleasure than the tables of the great, the amusements of a court, and the most melodious concerts could pro* cura* Then these expressions, in appearance so montifying, let me relvruy let me <2t>, are fraught with happiness. Ijd me dUj thai I naay be freed from the many in- firmities, and diseases, and pains, to which my frail body is exposed ! Let me dicy that I may get rid of tlie misfortune?, the treachery, the perfidy, the numerous plots and plans whkh are always in agitation against me, in a society of mankind ! Let me dicy and let me no more see truth persecu- ted and innocence sacrificed to iniquity ! Let me die, let all my doubts and darkness vanish, let me surmount all my difficulties, and let all the clouds that hide inleresting objects from me disap- pear ! Let me go to know as I am known, and let me put off this body of sin ! Let me leave a world, in which I cannot live without offending God ! Let ipe kindle the fire of my love at the altar of the love of God ! JM me die, and leave this untoward company of roeq, who seem almost all to have taken counsel The Lives of Courtiers. 24^ • against the Lord» and against his anointed, to subvert his throne, and, were it possible, to deprive him ef the government of the world ! Let me die^ that I may form intimate connections with happy spirits, and that I may enjoy that close union with them, that communion of ideas, that coit- formity of sentiments, which render heaven so delight- ful! Let me die, that I may behold the patriarchs and the prophets who acquired in the church an everlast- ing reputation, and on whose heads God hath already placed the crowns which he promised to their faith and obedience ! Lettnc die. that I mav hold communion with the happy God ! I feel a void within me, which none but he can fill; I feel desires elevating me to iris throne ; I feel ** my soul longing and fainting, my heart and my flesh crying out," when I think of pre- senting myself before him, PsaL Ixxxiv. 2. Doth my lieart say, " Seek his face? Thy face O Lord will I seek," Psal. xxvii. 8. And, as in this vale of tears thou art always hidden, I will seek thee in another economy ! A meditation of death, such as this, hath charms unknown to the world; but to you, my brethren, they are not unknown. The prospect of dying is better to Barzillai than all the pleasures of a court. A tomb appears more desirable to him than a royal palace. '^ Ld; me turn back, that I may die, add be buried by the grave of my father and my moth- er r* May we all by a holy life prepare for such a death ! God grant us grace to do so ! To him be hon- our and glory for ever ! Amen. SERMON Tin. Christian Canversatum. C!oLOSsiANS iv. 6. Let your speech be alrvay with gractj seasansd with sefi. XT is a complaint, as old as the study of hiirnan i»- ture, that mankind are prone to excess, that they never observe a just mean ; that in practising one vu*tue, they neglect another ; that in avoidii^ one vice, they run into an opposite ; in a word, that men usually go into extremes. This general max-' im, which is exemplified in almost all the actions of men, is particularly remarkable in those familiar conversations, which religion allows, which society' renders necessary, and for which God seems to hare purposely formed us. Observe the conduct of men in this article, you will find every where excesses and extremes. On the one band, you will see rude and uncivil people putting on in the most innocent companies austere looks, ever declaiming against the mann^B of the world, exclaiming against every body, afiecting to be offended with every thing, and converting every company into a court of justice, re- sounding with sentences against the guilty. On the other hand, yor will find people, under pretence of 248 Christian Conversation. avoiding this extreme, exceeding the bounds of re- ligion, and iniaginii^ that, in order to please in con- irersation, Christianity must be laid aside, and each expression must have an air sordid and vicious* Nothing is so rare as a wise union of gravity and gentility, piety and sweetness of manners ; a dispo- sition that engages us to preserve inviolable the laws of religion without injuring the rights of society, and to do justice to society without violating reli- gion. However, it is this just medium to which we are called, without whiic^h our conversation must be criminal, and which St. Paul teaches us in the text : ^ Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt." " Let your speech be seasoned with salt ;" here the rights of religion are preserved, this is the livery of the gospel, the character of chris- tianity. " Let your speech be alway with grace;" here the rights of society are asserted, this is the in- nocent pleasure which Jesus Christ allows us; this is the sweetness of manners, which, far from oppo- dng, he expressly enjoins us to acquire and practise. The title of my discourse, then, shall be. The art of speaking; and on this subject we will treat: — The art of speakingy not according to the rules of gram- mar, not in the sense used in polite academies, ac- cording to the rules of worldly good breeding, an art too insignificant to be taught in this pulpit ; but the art of speaking according to the laws of the gospel, according to the precept? of Jesus Christ, the ehrjy?r tian art of speaking'. Christian Cmversatian. 249 May God, who hath called us to treat of this im- portant duty, enable us to treat of it properly ! May be so direct us, that this discourse may serve us both for instruction and example ! May our language be seasoned with salt and grace ; with soilj that it may be grave and agreeable to the majesty of this place, and to the purity of our ministry ; and with grace^ that we may acquire your attention, and insinuate into your hearts! Amen! Sail must be the first seasoning of' our conversa' tion. It is hardly necessary to observe, that this term is metaphorical, and put for purity, of which salt is a symbol. The reason of this metaphor is clear; it is taken from the use of salt, which pre* serves the flesh of animals from putrefaction. For this purpose it was used iii sacrifices, according to the words of Jesus Christ. " Every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.*' " liCt your speech be sea- soned with salt," that is, never let your lips utter any discourse which does not savour of the respect you have for the God you adore, the religion you profess, and the christian name which you have the honour to bear. This is, in substance, the first law of conversation. Let us be more particular. The spirit of this maxim may be expressed in five rules. The apostle recommends a seasoning of pie- ty, a seasoning of chastity, a seasoning of charity, a seasoning of severity, and a seasoning of solidity. Consequently he condemns five usual imperfections of conversation. 1. Oaths.^ 2. Obscene language. 3. Slander. 4. Extravagant complaisance. 5. Fu^ tility. Either I am deceived, my brethren, or every VOL. IV. 32 250 Christian Conversaium. person in this auditory needs instruction in some one of these articles. !• The first vice of conversation, which the apos* tie condemtis, is swearing. The first seasoning, which he recommends to us, is the salt o{ piety. Sad necessity for a christian preacher, preaching to a christian audience ! Sad necessity, indeed, obliged to prove that blasphemy ought to be banished from con- versation ! however it is indispensiUy necessary to prove this, for nothing is so common among some called christians as this detestable vice. It is the ef- fect of two principles, the first is a brutal madness, aind the other is a most &lse and fanciful idea of su- perior understanding and free and easy behaviour. It is a brutal madness that puts some people on swearing. Our language seems too poor to express this disposition, and the words brutality and madness are too vague to describe the spirit of such as are guilty of this crime. These, shall I call tliem men or brute beasts ? cannot be agitated with the least passion, without uttering the most execraWe impre- cations. Fro ward souls, who cannot endure the least controttl without attacking God himself, taxing him with cruelty and injustice, disputing with him the government of the world, and not being able to sub- vert his throne, assaulting him with murmurings and blasphemies. Certainly nothing can be so opposite to this seUt of conversation as this abominable excess. They who practise it ought to be scduded from chris- tian societies, yea to be banished even from worldly companies. Thus the supreme Lawgiver, able to «ive and to destroy, hath determined. Read the ChffisUan QmversaHan. %Sl^ twenty-fourth of Leviticus, ** The son of an Israel- itish woman blasphemed the name of the Lord^" ver; 11, &c. At this news all Israel trembled with hor^ ror. The prudent Moses paused, and consulted God himself what to do in this new and unheard-of case. The oracle informed him in these word% ^^ Bring forth him that hath cursed, without the camp^ and let all that heard him lay their hands upon hiQ head, and let all the congregation stone him. And thou, Moses, shalt speak unto the children of Israels saying, Whosoever curseth his God shall bear bi^ sin, and he that blasphemeth the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death, and all the congregatioQ shall certainly stone him." Have you attended to this sentence ? It not only regards the blasphemer^ U regards all that hear him. If you be sincere meni- bers of the congregation of Israel, you ought, thougb not to stone the blasphemer, yet to d^lare your abhorrence of his conduct, and, if he renoain incor- rigible, to endeavour to rid society of such 9 mon^ sten Humati legislators have treated such people witt) the utmost rigor. The Emperor Justinian condemn- ed blasphemers to death.* Some have bored their tongues.t Others have drowned them4; Othenji have branded them with a red hot iron in the fore* head,^ intending, by fixing this mark of infamy in • * Constitut. Ixxi. a Ixvi. t Beyerlinc. Theatr. vit. human, torn, iii, f age 1S9. * Ibid. § Paul. Emil. de gest. Franc, fol. 164. pag. 3. edit. 4e Vmgo$» can \bX^. 252 Christian Conversation. part so visible, to guard people against keeping com- pany with a blasphemer. It was Lewis the ninth, a king of France, who was the author of this law. I cannot help relating the words of this prince in jus- tification of the severity of the law. A man of rank in the kingdom having uttered blasphemy, great in- tercession was made for his pardon; but the king's answer was this, / wottld submit^ said he, to be burnt in the forehead mysdf^ if by enduring the pain 1 cotdd furify my kingdom from blasphemy. We affirmed, further, that some people habitua- ted themselves to swearing from false notions of glo- ry and freedom of conversation. A man sets up for a wit in conversation, he pretends to conciliate the esteem of his company, and affects to put on the air of a man of the world, free from the stiffness of pedants. (This is not an invention of mine, this is a natural portrait, my brethren, and some of you gave me the original.) This man, I say, having ta- ken into his head this design, and not being able to derive means of succeeding from his genius, or ed- ubation, calls in the aid of oaths; of these he keeps various forms, and applies them instead of reasons, having the folly to imagine that an oath artfully pla- ced at the end of a period renders it more expressive and polite ; and, judging of the taste of his hearers by his own, inwardly applauds himself, and wonders what heart can resist the power of his eloquence. An elocution nriean and contemptible, and fitter for an unbridled soldiery than for those that command them. An elocution directly opposite to the words of my text, " Let your speech be seasoned with I Christian ConversiUiim. 2$3 salt.*' Never let the name of God go out of your lips without exciting such sentiments of veneration in your minds as are due to that sacred name. Never speak of the attributes of God in conversation with- out recollecting the majesty of that Being to whom they belong. " Accustom not thy mouth to swear- ing," said the wise son of Sirach, " neither use thy- self to the naming of the holy One; for he that nameth God continually shall not be faultless/' Ecclus. xxiii. 9, 10. The first vice of conversation to be avoided is swearing and blasphemy, the first seasoning of conversation is piety. ' 2. The apostle prescribes us a seasoning of chas* tily. Against this duty Uiere are some direct and some oblique attacks. Direct violaters of this law are those nauseous mouths, which cannot open with- out putting modesty to the . blush, by uttering lan- guage too offensive to be repeated in this sacred as- sembly ; yea, too filthy to be mentioned any where without breaking the laws of worldly decency. We are not surprised that people without taste, and without education, that a libertine, who makes a trade of debauchery, and who usually haunts hous- es of infamy, should adopt this style : but that chris* tian women, who profess to respect virtue, that they should suffer their ears to be defiled with such dis- course, that they should make parties at entertsUu: ments, and at cards with such people, and so discov- er that they like to have their ears tickled with such conversation, is really astonishing. We repeat it again, decorum, and worldly decency are sufficient ;to inspire us with horror for this practice. And shall 254 Christian Couversalum. the maxims of religion affect us less than huinau rules ? " Foroication, and all uncleanness," said St. Paul, " let it not be once named among you, as be- cometh saints," £pb. v. 3. . Barefaced immodest discom'se is not the most daa- gerouls, for it ought to be then least tolerated, be- cause it is then most execrable, when it is uttered equivocally. There is an art of disguising obscenity, and of conveying poison the most fatally, by com- municating it in preparations the most subtile and re- fined. Men in general choose rather to appear vir- tuous than to be so, and, to accommodate such peo- ple, there is an art of introducing vice under cover- ings so thick as to seem to respect the modesty of the company, and yet so thin as fully to expose it. A fine and delicate allusion, a lively and original tour of expression, an ingenious equivocation, a double meaning, an arch look, an affected gravity, these are the dangerous veils, these the instruments that wound us when we are off our guard. For what can you say to a man who behaves in this manner ? If you 8u£fer his airs to pass without censure, he will glory in your indulgence, and take your silence for ap- probation. If, on the other band, you remonstrate, he will tax you with bis own crime ; he will tell you that your ear is guilty, his language is innocent; that immodesty is in your heail, not in his expres- sions; and that of two senses to which his lan- guage is applicable, you have adapted the immod- est, when you ought to have taken the chaste mean- ing. CkrisUait ComcenajUon. 255 If to talk in this nianiier be to make an ofieriii|{ of the tongue to the enemy of our salvation, certain- ly to lend an ear to such couTersation, and by cer- tain expressive smiles to promise a favourable atten- tion to it, is to dedicate the ear to tiim. And do not deceive yourselves, you will never be able to persuade such as know the human heart, that you love virtue, while you take pleasure in hearing con- versation injurious to virtue. You will be told, and with great reason, that you are a friend to nothing but the appearance of it Were virtue itself the ob- ject of your esteem, you would not keep company with such as wound it. But by your indulgence of such people, you give us great reason to presume, that were not human laws and worldly decency in your way, you would give yourself up to the practice of vice ; for, in spite of these, you take pleasure in beholding it when appearances are sav- ed, and even disguise it yourself under specious pretexts. Further, we include in our notion of immodest conversation, licentious songs, which lawless custom has rendered too familiar, sor^s, which, under a pre- tence of gratifying a passion for vocal and instru- mental music, disseminate a thousand loose, not to say lascivious, maxims, excite a thousand iiTegular emotions, and cherish many criminal passions. At- tend to tliis article of our discourse, ye parents, who idolize your children, children whom you ought to dedicate to Jesus Christ, but whom you lead into « licentiousness that is a disgrace to your families. Music is an art criminal or innocent, according to 256 Christian Conversation. the use made of it. Those pious men, whom the holy scriptures propose to us for models, did not de- ny themselves the enjoyment o^ it: but they appli- ed it to proper subjects. St Paul even recommends iL Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in aU wisdom^ teaching and adinonishing one another in psalfnsj and hymns j and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord, CoL iii. 16. Thus also a prophet formerly applied both his voice and his instrument to celebrate the praises of his Creator. " Awake up, my glory, awake psaltery and harp, I myself will awake early* I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people; I will sing unto thee among the nations. Sing aloud unto God our strength : make B joyful noise unto the God of Jacob. Take a psalm and bring hither the timbrel, the pleasant harp with the psaltery, Psal. Ivii. 8, 9. and Ixxxi. 1, 2, &c. Thus a christian musician ought to sing : but never, never should his mouth utter licentious verses. An unchaste tongue is a sad sign of a depraved heart. A woman who paints vice in colours so agreeable, proves that she considers it in a very amiable light, tmd has no objection to the practice of it. For my part, I shall never be able to persuade myself that any consecrate their bodies to be temples of the Ho- ly Ghost, who, to use an expression of St. Paul, make their tongues members of an harlot, 1 Cor. vi. 15. Slander and calumny are a third defect of conver- sation, and the third law which our apostle imposes on us, is a seasoning of charity. I freely acknow- ledge, my brethren, that I cannot enter on this arti- christian ComersaUon. 2ffl cle without losing that moderation of temper, whidb is necessary to a preacher who would treat of tbb subject properly. Whether it be weakness of mind; or self-interest, or whether it be the enormous lengthi to which you practise this vice in this place/ too much practised, alas, every where ! or whaterer be the cause, I can scarcely retain my temper; fori feel myself at once ready to confound instructiOD with reproof* Is there any character ampjpg you SO respectable, any intention so innocent, any Cooh duct so irreproachable, any piety so conspicuous, as to escape the cruelty of your calumniating con- versations ? What shall I say to you my brethren? I wish I knew how to collect the substance of many sermons into this one article : I would endeavour to exhibit calumny in one small portrait, at which you might continually look, and which might perpetually in- dpire you with holy horror. I. Consider this vice in its source. Soitietimes it proceeds from littleness of mind, for there are peo- ple who cannot converse, they neither understand religion or government, arts or sciences, and tbebr conversation) would languish and die away, were not the void filled up with a detail of the real imperfeo* tions of their neighbours, or of others, which the most cruel malignity ascribes to them, and the numr ber of these always far surpasses that of real defects. Sometimes it comes from pride. People wish to be superior to their neighbours, and not having the no« ble courage to rise above them by the practice c^ more virtue, they endeavour to sink th«n by slaih TGI;. IV. 33 fi58 i^risUan Conversation. 4eroxks conyersation. Sometimes envy is the source. TJhere are persons who place their happiness in the lidiery of others. A ne^hboQr*s prosperity shock? them, his reputation wounds them, and his rest is Iheir torment Sometimes a guilty conscience gen* trates slander. Bad men fear the public eye should discover and fix on their own crimes, and they try to prevent this misfortune by artfully turning the at- tention of spectators from themselves to the vices of their fellow-citizens. 2* Consider the fatal consequences of slander. Judge of the hearts of pthers by your own. What makes one man invent a calumny induces another to receive and publish it. As soon as evei' the voice of slander is heard, a thousand echoes repeat it, and {publish vices which your want of charity, or excess of injustice, attributed to your neighbour. What renders this the more deplorable is the usual readi- ness of mankind to give credit to calumny; a readi- ness on the one part to utter calumny, and on the oth^r to believe it, overwhelm a neighbourhood with all the misery of defamation. 3. Consider the duties which they who commit &is crime bind themselves to perform ; duties so hard, that some would rather die than perform them, and yet duties so indispensable, that no man can ex- pect either favour or forgiveness who neglects the discharge of them. The first law we impose on a roan who hath unjustly acquired the property of a neighbour, is to restore it. The first law we impose on a man who hath injured the reputation of anoth- er, is to repair it. There is a restitution of honour Christian Omversaiion* f^9 as well as of fortune. Which of you, now, who bath deaR Jn slander, dare ^foroi the just and gene^ rous resolution of going from house to house to pub** lish his retractions ? Who is there among you, that by committing this sin does not hazard all bis own reputation ? 4. Consider how extrenaely opposite this sin is to thelatv of charUy. You know the whole religion of Jesus Christ tends to love. The precepts he gave, the doctrines he taught, the worship he prescribed, the ordinances he instituted, the whole gospel is the breath of love. But what can be more incompati- ble with love than slander ! consequently who de- serves less the name of. christian than a slanderer ? 5. Consider how many different forms cahimny assumes. In general, all the world agree it is one of the most hateful vices : yet it is curious to see how persons who declaim the most loudly against this crime, practise it themselves. All the world condemn it, ami all the world slide into the practice of it. The reputation of our neighbour is not only injured by tales studied and set^ but an air, a smile, a look, an affected abruptness, even silence, are en- *renomed darts shot at the same maA, and it will be impossible for us to avoid falling into the temptation of committing this crime, unless we keep a perpet- ual jvatch. ^ • 6. Consider the various illusions, and numberleds pretextSf of which people avail themselves, in order to conceal from themselves the turpitude of this crime. One pretends he said nothing but the truth ; as if charity, did not oblige us to conceal the real 260 Christian ComersatiofL rices of a neighbour, as well as not to atteibute to faiin fanciful ones. Another justifies his conduct by pretending that he is animated not by hatred, but fcy equity ; as if God had appointed every individ- ual to exercise vengeance, and to be an executioner of \m judgments ; as if, supposing the allegation true, a man does not sin against his own principles (for he pretends equity) when he shews his neigh- bour in an unfavourable point of view, by publish- ing his imperfections and concealing his virtues. Another excuses himself by saying, that as the affair was public he might surely be permitted to mention it ; as if charity was never violated except by dis- covering unknown vices ; as4f men were not forbid- den to relish that malicious pleasure which arises from talking over the known imperfections of their neighbours. 7. Consider, into what an unhappy situation ca- lumny puis an innocent person who wishes to avoid it. What must a man do to preclude or to put down a calumny ? Cherish good humour, paint pleasure in your face, endeavour by your pleasing deportment to communicate happiness to all about you, be, if 1 may speak so, the life and soul of society, and it will be said, you are not solid, you have the un- i«^ortby ambition of becoming the amusement of man- kind. Put on an austere air, engrave on your coun- tenance, if I may speak thus, the great truths that fill your soul, and you will be taxed with pharisaism and hypocrisy; it will be said, Ihat you put on a fair outside to render yourself venerable, but that jinder all this appearance vmy likely you conceal Christian Conversation. 261 an impiQ|i;6 ineligious heart Take a middle way; tegulate your conduct by times and places, Tveep with them that weep, and rgoice with them Hutt rgaieCf and you will be accused of luke-warmness. Pick your company, confine yourself to a small circle» make it a law to speak freely only to a few select friends who will bear with your weaknesses, and who know your good qualities, and you will be accused of pride and arrogance; it will be said^ that you think the i-est of mankind unworthy of your company, and that you pretend wisdom and taste are excluded from all societies, except such as you deign to frequent. Go every where, and in a spirit of the utmost condescension converse with ev- ery individual of mankind, and it will be said you are unsteady, a city, a province cannot satisfy you, you lay all the universe under contribution, and oblige tlie whole world to try to satiate your un- bounded love of pleasure. In fine, consider whnt punishment the holy Spirit has denounced against calumny, and in what class of mankind be hath placed slanderers : You who, by a prejudice, which is too general a rule of judg- ing, imagine ^ou possess all virtues^ because yofa are free from one vice^ to use the language of a modem author,^ you, who poison the reputation of a neigh- bour in company, and endeavour thus to avenge yourself on him for the pain which his virtues give you, in what list hath St. Paul put you ? He hath classed you with misers, idolaters, debauchees, and adulterers, " If any man be a fornicator, or cove- * Flechier. 262 Christian Qkversatian, touBf or an idolater, or a raUer, with sui^ an one keep no company, no not to eat/' ^ Neither forni- cators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor efifenamate, MMT abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nw covetous, nor drunkards, nor nvikrs, (this is your place) nor extortioners shall inherit the king- dom of God," 1 Cor. V. 11. .and vi. 9. But We judge of vices and virtue, not according to the rules laid down in the gospel, but according to such as prevail in the world. It is not Jesus Christ, it is the world, that is our sovereign. We blush at what they censure, and we feel no remorse at committing what they think fit to tolerate. Ah ! why are not legisla- tors more indulgent when they condemn to racks and gibbets a wretch whom excess of hunger impelled to steal our property ; why do they not inflict one part of their rigour on him who, in cool blood, and with infernal malice, robs us of our reputation ar>d honour ! Let your speech be stasoned with the salt of charity. Fourthly, Tlie apostle intends to inspire us with a seasoning of severity^ and to banish from our con- versations a fourth vice, which we have named exr travagant complaisance. When is complaisance ex- travagant ? Are we going to pass encomiums on such untoward spirits as disturb all mankind; on such superstitious martyrs of truth and virtue as render themselves impertinent by affecting regularity, such as represent piety under an appearance so frightful (hat it cannot be taken for piety, and give it an air so hideous that it is imposfeible to love it ? No, my brethren. In this article we deplore a frailty too N Christian CoMersation. 263 common among the best christians. We fall into a circle of bad company, we hear them blaspheme the name of God, attack religion, profane ihe most holy mysteries, and calumniate innocence. We tremble at this conversation, and from the bottom of our souls detest it; our spirit is stirred in us, we are like St. Paul, when he saw the Athenian idolatry, but we conceal our pious indignation, we dare not openly avow it, we even embolden the criminal by infirmity, though not by inclination. A christian ought to know how to unfurl the ban- ner of Jesus Christ, and as in times of persecution a ma^ was reputed ashamed of his faith, and guilty of idolatry by silence and neutrality ; as the casting of a single grain of incense on the altar of an idol was accounted an act of apostacy, so when the Em- issaries of vice attack religion on the practical side, a man ought to say, I am a christian, he ought not to be ashamed of the gospel of Christ, he ought to restrain the infidel, repress the libertine, resist the calumniator. Finally, perpetual voids are a fifth defect of con- versation, and a fifth duty prescribed to us is a sea- soning of soUdily. It is Jesus Christ himself who furnisheth us with this reflection, by informing us in the gospel, that we must give an account for cDerj/ idle word. In order to profit by this declaration we must imderstand it, and in order to understand it we must avoid two extremes equally opposite to the design of the Saviour of the world, we must neither give the passage a sense too rigorous nor too lax. 264 ChrisUctti ComtnaUoiL First, the words of Jesus Christ inust act be taken iD'a seDse too rigorous. He does not niean by idk wqrds^ those discourses, of which we do not imme- diately perceive the utility, but which, however, are unavoidable in an intercourse with mankind. There are two ways of proving that our Saviour had not in view this sort of conversation. • ]. It should seem, by examining the original, that the passage ought to be rendered not idle words, but wicked words. Many expositors adopt this sense, ^nd aflSrm, that the Greek word here used answers to a Hebrew, word, which signifies hoih useless and fvieked.* We are certain the writers of the new testament frequently use Greek >(vords in a Hebrew sense. As then the Hebrew word signifies wicked and uselessy these expositors thought they had a right to translate the word wicked, not idle. More- over, they add, that the original Greek word has this meaning, and is frequently taken in an active sense (forgive this technical term) and not always in a passive, in good authors ; that is, it does not mean only that which is not directed to any good end, but that which actually defeats a good design. Thus Cicero, speaking of the opponents of the Stoics, says, they accuse the doctrine of their philosophers concerning fate, of being an idle doctrine ; be uses the same term that is used in the passage we are considering, and he means, by an idle doctrine, a doc- irine which encourages idleness. For, say the ene- mies of the Stoics, if a blind fate produces our virtues and vices, all our ejSbrts are useless, and we may ••.Lc Clerc in Hapimond on Matt. xii. 26. christian CimversaHdn. 269 waste our lives in idleness. By idk tvordsi then, Je* sus Christ means to forbid, not word^ merely use^ less, but words which have a bad tendency, as thosri had which attributed the miracles of Christ to magics There is a second way of restraiiiing the meaning of Jesus Christ. Let iis retain the term idle, used in otir version, and let us explain this passage as we ex- plain all other passages in scripture which fbrbid idlo^ ness. When the scripture enjoins us to labour, does it inean that we should be always at work? When it forbids us to be idle, does it mean to di^^llow relax- ation and rest ? Does it blame an honest recreation I No. It condemns only such as consume all their life in inaction. Thus here, Jesus Christ, by condemning i(2Ze words, does not mean those innocent convenne tions which we have observed are necessary, but hei means sudi as are made up of nothing but vanity and unpi^fitableness. Let us, however, carefully avoid giving a \o69i sense to the words of Jesus Christ. He allows vague and superficial conversation only as he allows idle- ness. He means that, in general, our conversation should turn on grave and useful subjects. We generally persuade ourselves that churches afid closets are the only places where we ought to employ ourselves about sdiid subjects^ Let us undeceive our^ selves. W(e ought to attend to such subjects even while we are in pursuit of pleasure*. For example, ar6 we ret timing from a sermon? Why not entertain one another with the subjects we havebieen hearing? Why not endeavour to imprint on one another^s me- ihgries th6 truths that have been proved, andtoim- TOL. IV. 34 866 Christian CanversaHon. press on one another's hearts such precepts as bare been enforced? Have we been visiting; a dying person? Why not make snch reflections as naturally occur on snch occasions the matter of our conversation ? Why not embrace such a fair opportunity of speaking on the vanity of life, the uncertainty of Worldly enjoy- ments, and tlie happiness of a pious departure to rest ? Have vre been reading a good book ? Why hot con^ verse ^ if h our companions on the information we have derived from it ? Are we ministers of religion ? Surely there is great propriety in entertaining oiir friends with the subjects whicli we teach in public, and investi- gate in out studies. Why should we not apply them to the benefit of such as surround us ? Why not en- deavour to subdue that resistance which the wretch- ed hearts of rtiankind make to the truths of religion? Were these rules observed, each company would become a school of instruction, the more useful be- i^use the more natural and easy, and knowlfedge and tirtiie would be mutiiaWy cherished. What! say some, would you prohibit all the plea- dliire of life? Must We never open our mouths but to utter sententious discourses ? Would you con- demn us to eternal melancholy ? Ah! this is a gross error. Pleasure is incompatible with piety, is- it? What! is piety so offensive to you, that it spoils all ybur pleasure if it only makes its appearance ? After all, what pleasure can those vain conversa- tions afford, which consume the greatest part of life? Had we been alway?^ sequestered from the rest of mankind, perhaps we might imagine that the confu- ^d noise made by a company of talkers about no- ChristiaACofwetsatian. JUSl thing might give pleasure ; but who that has seen the world can fall into this error ? What ! superficial chat about the most common appearances of paturej Tiresome tittle tattle about the sun and the raiQ I Ill-timed visits, perpetually returning, always a bur- den, to those who pay, and to those who receive them ! Are these the pleasures which you prefer b^ fore a sensible useful conversation! Puerile mistake! It is the solid sense and utility of a conversation tint make the pleasure of it. ^^ Let your speech be air way seasoned with salt.*' . Let us proceed to examine the other term, grMt^ St. Paul says, " let your speech be always with grace." We have before intimated, that the apostle means by the word grace, agreeableness, gracefiilr ness. The word grcice, we allow, must often be. ta- ken in scripture in a very different sense ; bqt two reasons determine us to take it here in this sen^. 1 . The nature of the thing. It was natural for the apostle, after be had spoken of what sanctifies qpih versation, to speak of what renders it insinuating. 2. The word is often taken in this sense in scripture. Thus the wise man says, " Grace is deceitful, aqd beauty is vain," Prov. xxxi. 30. And thus the psalmist, " grace is poured into thy lips,*'* Pwl xlv. 2. V- * Our author follows the reading of his own French version in Prov. xxxi. 30. La grace tromfie^ et la beautc s'evanouit, Ow translation reads, Favor ia deceitful^ and beauty w vain : but clit- ics render the original words, gratia^ gratioaitasy vetuataa moruBli sermonum, actionum^ gcstuum. So that Mr. S. may be justifi- ed in giving this sense to the text. In tbe same sense, it should ^68 Christian Camersation. " But what is this grace 1 I think we must hare ob* aerved, that the disagreeableness of conversation generally proceeds from one of these five causes ; ekber from extraTagant raillery, or from proud de- cisions, or from bitter disputes, or from invincible obstinacy, or from indiscreet questions. Against these five vices we oppose five virtues, or, to use the language of the text/ five sorts of graces^ which ren* der conversation charming : The grace of complai- sdlice, the grace of humility, the grace of modera- tion, the grace of docility, and the grace of discre- tion. These we call the graces^ the embellishments of conversation, 1. Extravagant raillery generally poisons conver- sation. Who can bear to be turned into ridicule ? Who likes to have his own foibles exposed ? Who would choose to be the subject of the wit of a comr pany, especially when, not being able to return wit for wit, a man is obliged tacitly to own himself a genius inferior to those who attack him ? Abstract reasonings are not necessary to make this article plain. We appeal only to the feelings of such as make a trade of rallying others. How is it, pray, that you cannot bear to be rallied in your turn? Whence that gloomy silence? How is it, that your vivacity is extinct, and your spirits damped, uulesg you, as well as thie rest of mankind, love to be re- spected ? seem, is that famous passage in John i. 17. grace and truth came by Jeaua ChrUt^ to be taken. Grace signifies here affability, sweetpess of deportment, propriety of behaviour, conformity be- tween the good news he brought, and the gleeful manner in whi^h he detiyered the message. christian Conversation. ftHii ■ We would substitute complaisance in the place of extravagant raillery. Instead of making a little gen- ius feel bis insignificance^ we sbould stoop to hissia&e. Courtiers understand this art well, and they know ^,s well when to make use of it, either to obtain the es- teem of a superior, or to acquire the friendship of an inferior, or an equal. See with what address they shew you to yourselves by your bright sides. Observe with what dexterity they entertain you with what you are pleased and interested in. And sbafl christian charity yield to worldly politeness ? 2. A second vice that poisons con vei*sation is proud decision. What can be more intolerable than a man who stalks into company as a genius of the first or- der, who lays down his own infallibility as a first principle, who delivers out his nostrums as infallible oracles, as the decisions of a judicature so high that it would be criminal to appeal from them ? .What aggravates the injustice of this character is, that these peremptory people are generally the most ignorant • and that their ignorance is the cause of their positive- ness. A little ignorant genius, who hath never gonjp to the bottom of anv one article of science, who knows neither the objections that lie against a sub- ject, nor the arguments that support it^ who knows nothing but the surface of any thing, quickly faih cies that he perfectly comprehends, and caii fully ascertain the subject of his attention. . He does not know what it is to doubt, and he pities those whb do. On the contrary, ^ man of real knowledge knows so well by his own experience the weakness of the human mind, and so tborou^y understands fl?0 Christian Conversation. ^is oivQ defects, that be keeps in himself a counter- poise for pride ; be proposes bis opinions only as problems to be e^t^mined, and not 4s decisions to be obeyed. Tbis is wbat we call tbe graice of bumility. A man ougbt to submit his judgrnent to tbe discus- fioQ of those to whom he proposes It ; be should al- {p^ every one a liberty of thinking for himself, and presuppose, that if he has reasoi^, so have others ; that if be has learning, others bs^ve it too; (hat if \ifi has ifueditated on a subject, so have others. £yen subjects, of the truth of which we are most fully persuaded, ought to be so proposed as to convince people that it is a love of truth, and not a high con- ceit of ourselves, that makes us speak, and thus we dbquld exemplify the rule laid down by an apostle, ** Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory ; T[)ut in lowliness of mind let each esteem other bet- ter than themselves," Phil. ii. 3. 3. A hiiltr spirit of disputing is a third vice of conversation. Yield instantly, yield even when you have reascxn on your side, rest satisfied with knowing ibe truth yourself, when they to whom you propose it, wilfully shut their eyes against it. The reason of this maxim is this : When a man refuses to admit a proposition sufficiently demonstrated, the more you press him, the further he will recede from you. The principle that induces him to cavil, is pride, and not weakness of capacity;, if you persist in shewing him the truth, you will irritate his pride by confounding it; whereas, if you give his passion time to cool and subsides perhaps he will return of himself and re- "BQUpqe his §rior, (MnstioH ConviBrsatUm. 27) St. Paul wad an excellent model of this griiie ^ moderaHon, ^^ unto Jet^s be became as a Jew, to tbem tbat were without law as without law, all thidgsl to all men," 1 Cor, Ix. 20. Why? was it idieneki or cowardice ? Neither ; for never was servant more zealous for the interest of bis master, never did sdl- dier fight with more courage for his prince. It wat owing to his moderation and charity. Unto thft Jews I became as a Jew, ^^that I might gain the Jews ;'* to th^mthat are Without law as without law* "that 1 might by all means save some." 4. Obstinacy is incompatible with the grace of db- dUtt/y a neceissary ingredient in agreeable conversa- tion. To persist in maintaining a proposition be- cause we have advanced it, to choose rather to heftp up one absurdity upon another than to give up the first, to be deceived a thousahd times rather than i^ say once, I am mistaken ; what can be more contra- ry to good manners in conversation than these dispo- sitions ? It is a high enjoyment to open one's eye* to the tight when it rises on us, and to testify by ff sincere recantation that we proposed our opinions' rather with a desire to be instructed in what we diJ not know, than to display our abHities^ in what we ^d understand* Finally, mUscreef questions are a fifth pest of cofr- Versationr; questions which put a rnan's mind upoit the rack, and reduce hinr to the painful dilemma ei- ther of hot answerihg,^ or of betraying his secrets. Too much eagerness to |Nry into other men's concerns is frequently more intolerable than indifference; and to determine, in spite of a man, to be his confi*- ^72 Christian CanversaHen. denU is to discover more indiscreet curiosity than christian charity. St. Paul reproved the widows of hk time for this vice, and in them all succeeding christians. ^' Younger widows learn to be idle, and not only idle, but tattlers also, and busy bodies^ qpeaking things which they ought not," 1 Tim. v* 11, 13. The grace opposite to this vice is discre- Hon* My brethren, the truths you have been hearing are of the number of those to which in general the least attention is paid. Few people have ideas of piety so refined as to include the duties which we have been inculcating. Few people put into the list of their sins to be repented of, the vices we have been reproving, few thereforje are; concerned about them. Yet there are many motives to engage us to use. extreme caution in our conversations. I will just mention a few. First. Vices of conversation are daily sins ; they are repeated till they form a habit ; by slow degrees they impair and destroy conscience; and in a man- ner the more dangerous, because the process is im- perceptible, and because little or no pains are taken to_preveiit it. Great crimes have a character of hor- ror, which throws us off at a distance. If we happen to be surprised into a commission of them through our own weakness, the soul is terrified, repentance instantly follows, and repetition is not very common : but in the case before us, sin makes some progress every day, every day the enemy of our salvation obtains some advantage over us, every day renders Christian Conversati&n. 273 mote difficult and impracticable the great work, for which we were created. Secondly, By practising these yices of convert lion we give great ground of suspicion to others^ and we ought to be persuaded ourselves, that our hearts are extremely depraved. It is in vain to pre» tend to exculpate ourselves by pretending that these are only words, that words are but air, empty sounds, without effect No, says Jesus Christ, " out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,'* Matt, xii. 34. Hence this saying of St. Chrysostom, The tongue often blushes to speak what the heart dictates ^ but the heart, having no witness, gives itsdf up to ir- regular passions. It is only owing to a supexfluity ^ depravity ivithin, thai the tongue renders it visible.*, I£ then our reputa:tion be dear to us, if we have at heart the edification of our neighbours, if we wish to asr sure our hearts that we are upright in the sight of God, who continually sees and thoroughly knows .us, let our conversation be a constant and irreproacha- ble witness. : . Lastly. The judgment of God should be a preva- lent motive with us. You have heard it from the mouth of Jesus Chri^. You will be required to " give an account in the day of judgment for every idle word. For by thy words thou shall be justifi- ed, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned," Matt. xii. 36, 37. We judge of our conversations only by the impressions they make on our minds, and as they seem to us only as sounds lost in the air, * Chrysostom. Tom. i. Hoin. 43. in Matth. VOL, IV, 35 ifi4 Christian Conversaiion. We persuade ourselyeH they cannot materially affect our eternal state. But let ud believe eternal truth; ^ by ^j y^ovds thou shalt be justilied, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned." Dreadful thought ! For which of us can recollect all the vain words be feas uttered the last ten years ? They are gone along with the rerolutions of time, they expired the mo- hient they were borp. Yet they 'are all, all regis- tered in a faithful memory, they are all, all written in a book ; they will be all one day brought to our remembrance, they wUl be weiglied in the balance of the sanctuary^ and will contribute in that day to &c our eternal doom, "QLord! enter not into judgment with thy servant ! O God ! cleanse thou tthe from secret faults;'' Psal. cxliii. 2. and xix. 13. \rhese are three motives to animate us to practise the duty under consideration. We will add three rules, to help us the more easily to discharge it. 1, If we would learn to season our conversation, we must clioose our company. This is often disput- ed > however, we affirn), conformity of manners is the bond of this commerce. Seldom does a man pass bis life with a slanderer without calumniating. Pew people keep company with libertines unless they be profligate themselves. Exaniple cames us away in spile of ourselves. A.pagap poet advanced this maxim, and St. Paul, by quoting, hath conse- crated it. "Evil communications corrupt good man- ners," 1 Cor. XV. 33. Let us begin a reformation of our conversation by selecting our companions. Let us break with the enemies of God. Let us di-ead tlie contagion of poison, and avoid the manufactur- Christian OmversQtifin. ^f ers of it. As there is no sinner so obstinate as not to be -moved by an intercourse with good men» so there is no virtue so well establisbed as not to be eit* dangered by an iniimatcy j^vitii the wicked. 2. A second great secret in conrersation is the 9rt of silence. To talk a great deal, and to reflect on all that is said, are two things incompatible, and cer- tainly we cannot speak wisely, if we speak without reflection. The book of Ecclesiasticus advises us to ^^ make a door and a bar for the mouth," chap, xxviii. 25. " The fool," said the wise man, " is fiiU of words," Eccles. x. 14. "I will take heed to my ways, that I siq not with my tongue. I will keep my mouth with a bridle," Psal. xxxix. 1. An ancient hermit abused this maxim; for, after he had heard the first verse of the thirty- ninth psalm, he refused to hear the second, saying, the first w^s lesson suffi* cient for him. The reader of this verse to him ^sk- ed him many years after whether he had learnt to reduce this lesspn to practice. Nineteen years, re- plied the hermit, have I been trying, and have hard* ly attained the practice. But there was some relison in the conduct of this hermit, ^though he carried t*^^^ matter to excess. In order to speak well,, we j^iust speak but little,* remembering always the r • j^ ^f St James, "If any man seem to be re'\ t j^^^ bridleth not his tongue, this man's re^' t -^ Jiiin '^ cbap.i.26. ..g»PM«vain. In fine, the great rule to gove jg ^^ govern the heart. "Keep f '^ ^ ^uf all dUi- gence, for out of it are the * ay heari _ .^ ^ In vta do yo« stri« to ^ ^'^ ^<^ y.« 876 Christiaa Conversation. remove the cause. It is in vain td purify the streams, while the spring continues polluted. It is in vain to attempt a few forced actions, like those mentioned by the psalmist^ " whose words were softer than oil, when war was in their heart," Psal. Iv. 21. It is ex- tremely difficult to act long under constraint The heart insensibly guides tbe tongue. Would yoii avoid rash judging, obscenity^ calumny, fawning, all the vixJes of which we have shewn the enormity, be- gfai with your own heart. There establish the love of God. Love piety, respect virtue, and talk as you will^ you cannot but speak well. Let us fiael these motives, my brethren. Let us obey these rules. Let us practise these duties. L^ '118 blush for having so long lived in the neglect of 'them. Henceforth let us dedicate our voices to the praise of our Creator. Let us praise God. To - praise God is the noblest of all employments. To praise God is the incessant employment of all the an- gels in heaven. To praise God must be our eternal exercise. L^ us this instant, on the . spot, begin to reduce this new plan of conversation to practice. 'Let us cry, with blessed spiiils, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts : and let these first fruits of holy conversation consecrate all the remainder of life. God grant us this grace. To Father, Son aud Spirit, be honour and glory for ever ! Amen. SERMON IX. The Pvty of giving AlmSn Luke xi, 41, Give alms cf such things as you have. Our churches are houses of God: places where he bestows his favours in richest profusion. Indeed bis omnipresence cannot be confined; heaven, and the heaven of heavens cannot contain him, the whole uni- verse is the theatre of bis liberality. It is, however, in his churches that he afibrds the most distinguishr ing proofs of his presence, and opens his most mag- nificent treasures. Hence Solomon, after he had erected that superb palace described in the first book of Eangs, addressed this prayer to God, "May thine eyes be- open toward this house night and day, even toward the place of which thou hast said, My name shall be there. When thy people Israel shall pray toward this place, when they are smitten down be* fore the enemy; when heaven is shut, and there is no rain ; when there be in the land famine, pestilence and blasting ; when they pray towards this place, when they spread forth their hands towards this house, Iben bear thou in heaven, thy dwelling-place," 1 Kings, viii. 27, 29, &c. Let us not imagine all these pr^ogatives were confined to the temple of Jerusa- 278 The Duty of giving Aim. lem. They are in our churches. Always when we Assemble in this place, We conduct you to the tribu- Hal of God, and say to you, in the language of eternal wisdom, " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat ; buy wine and milk without mofiey and with- out price," fsa. If. 1, To-day, christians, this house changes its appear- ance. It is no more a supferb palace, the seat of rich- es and abundance. It is an alms-house. It is, if I may be allowed to say so,^ general hospital, in which are assembled all those poor, all those indigent widows find destitute orphans, all those famished old people, who were bom in your provinces, or who, through the calamities of the times, have been driven to your coasts, and penriitted to resSide here. What a sight ! To-day God takes the place of man, and man that of God. God asks and man answers. God begs, and man bestows. God sets before Us heaven, grace, and glory • and from his high abode, where he dwells among the praises of the blessed, he solicits your charity, and says to you, by our mouth, " Give alms of such things as you have." What opportunity more proper can we have to preach charily to you? For several weeks these arches have resounded with the greatest benevolence that was ever heard of.* Your preachers have fixed your attention on that great sacrifice by which men are reconciled to God, *) that if we be so happy to- day as to touch your hearts, there will be a harmony between love and charity, between the Creator and * The Weeks of Lent. The Duty ^^ving Abus. 279 the creature. '' The heavens will hear the earth, the earth will bear th^ hea^^ens," Hos. ii. 22. Het^ xen will say to the faithful i^ul, " Behold the loLmh of God, which taketh away the sins of the world.*' John i. 29. and the feithful soul, properly affected with gratitude, will reply, ^^ O God, my goodness extendeth not to thee, but to the saints that are in the earth,'' Psal. x?i. 23. and will pour upon the feet of Jesus Christ that ointment which cannot be put upon the head of Christ himself. My brethren, ais- sist our feeble effoiis. And thou, O God, who art 2ot;e itself, animate every part, every period, eveiy expression of this discourse, so that all our hearers iHay become disciples of love ! Amen. ''Give alms of such things as you have;" these are the words of pur text, Ihe gospel of this day. We will not detain you in comparing the words of our translatjion with those of the original, in order to justify our interpreters. Some expositors think the text is not an exhortation to charity, but a censure on the Pharisees for their notion of it. After the Pharisees had obtained great sums by rapine and ex- tortion, they endeavoured to conceal, yea to embel- lish their crimes by alms-deeds. According to these interpreters, Jesus Christ only intended to condemn these infamous practices, so that instead of reading the words, as we do, '' give ahns of such things as ye have,'' we ought to read them, "Ye give alms of such things as you have, and ye suppose all things are clean to you." Bui this interpretation, which is in itself a striking truths ought, however, to be rejected, as neither be- \ 280 Tke Dutif (f giving Alms. iog agreeable to the scope of the place, nor the lit- eral sense of the words, which 9ire followed by a pre- cept, nor to ancient Tensions, nor to the following words, '^all things shall be clean to you," which carries in it the nature of a promise, and which must therefore be naturally joined to a precept. Let us then retain the sense of our version, and ]et us take the words for an order of our Master prescribing charity. He addressed this order to the Pharisees, and in them to all christians. The phar- isees were a class of men, who loved showy virtues, and who thought by discharging small duties to make amends for the omission of great and important ones. Jesus Christ reproves them in this chapter; "Ye, Pharisees, make clean the outside of the cup and the platter: but your inward part is full of ravening and wickedness." They tithed mint and rue, and all manner of lierbs, but they neglected charity. On another occasion we have observed, that they re- sembled some modern christians, who put on the air of piety, lift their eyes to heaven, besprinkle our churches with teai-s, utter their souls in perpetual sighs and complaints, and incessantly cry religion ! religion ! but who know charity only by the pahi they feel when it is mentioned to them. " Ye, phar- isees,make clean the outside of the cup and the plat- ter : but your inward part is full of ravening and wickedness. But rather," rather than put on all these airs of piety, rather than affect an ignorant zeal, rather than practice exactness in trifle§, **give alms of such things as you have." Charily is the centre, where y1l virtric? incet. "O vm^rx, what doth the Lord re- Tht Duly of giving Alms. 2^1 quire of thee, but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" "Though I speak with the tongue of men and angels, though I give ray body to be burned, though I have all faith so that I could remove mountains," and, we may add, though I should receive the communion every day of my life, though I fast every week, though I burn with the zeal of a seraph, yet if " I have not charity, I am be- come as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal !'' Micb^ vi. 8. 1 Cor. xiii. 1, &c. But these reflections are too vague, let us be mote particular. We will divide this discourse into two parts. In the fii'st, we will recommend alms-giving by making an eulogium on benevolence, which ought to be the principle of it. In the second part we wiU make some particular observations on alms-giving it^ self. I. An eulogium on benevolence shall be our first part. We consider tiiis virtue in several difierent views. 1. As it regards society* 2. i\s it respects religion. 3. As it influences death, i* As it regards judgment. 5. As it respects heaven- And, lastly, as it regards God himself. Benevolence is the happi* ness of society, and the essence of religion^ It tri- umpbs over the horrors of death, and pleads for us before that terrible tribunal at which we must be judged. Benevolence is the bond of celestial intel- ligences, the brightest ray of their glory, and the chief article of their felicity* Benevolence is the imagQ of God himself^ and the expression of his es- sence. So tl)at to practise the duty of charity^ to give alma from this principle, is.tQ be a WQi;lb^: ciii-' yoL, rv. 36 382 I%e JDuty €f giving Atms. ] WBt a good christian, cheerful in death, absolved fifotn guilt, and a member of the church triumphant. To give alms is to return to our center, to resemble God, .from whom our souls derived their existence. Let us examine each of these articles. 1. Benevolence constitutes the happiness ofsocie- tfjf ; to give alms is to perform the duty of a good t^izen.v In order to comprehend this, it will be on« ly necessary to examine the principle of action in bim who refuses to assist the poor according to his ability, and the miseries to which society would be reduced were each member of it to act on the same principle. The principle of a man, who does not contribute to assist the poor according to his power, is, that he who possesses temporal benefits, ought to hold them only for himself, and that he ought never to impart them to others except when his own inter* est requires him to do so; and that when his own interest is unconnected with the condition of his neighbour, he ought not to. be affected with his mis- fortunes. Now it is certain no principle can be more contrary to public good. What would become of society were all the members of it to reason in this manner ? Should the statesman say, I will make use of my knowledge and experience to arrive at the pinnacle of honour, and to conduct my family thither; but, when the interest of my country is un- connected with mine, I will abandon the helm, and give myself no concern to procure advantages for other people ! What if a general should say, I will employ all my courage and strength to surmount ev- ery obstacle in the way of my fortune ; but should The Duty €f ginng Alms. S^ the enemy offer me advantages greater than 1 cm procure of my country, I will turn my hand, and destroy the country which I now defend ! What ^ the minister should say, I will endeavour only to save myself, or I will study only to display my tal» ents ; but when this end cannot be obtained, I will harden my heart against perplexed minds, distressed consciences, people dying in despair, and Iwill neg»> lect every duty, which has only God and si misera^ ble wretch for spectators ! Extend this principle of self-interest. Apply it to different conditions of life, and you will perceive it leads from absurdity to absurdity, and from crime to crime. You will see, that he who makes it the rule of his actions, violates all the laws which mankind made for one another, when they built cities and formed states. In such establishments men make tacit conditions, that they will succour one another, that they will reward some services by other servi- ces, and that when any are rendered incapable of seiTing others, or of maintaining themselves, they should not be left to perish, but that each should fur- nish such relief as he himself would wish to receive in the same case. - If a rich man, therefore, refuse to assist the poor^ he violates this primitive law^ and consequently saps the foundation of society. As good politicians, we ought to proceed rigorously against a miser, be should be lodged among animals of another species, and suc|i pleasures as arise from a society of men should be refused to liim, because he refuses to contribute to them, and lives mily for himself. For want of hur > 2m The Duty of giving Alms. Ilian laws, there is I know ilot what malediction affixed to those who are destitute of charity. They are con- sidered with horror. Their insensibility is a subject of public conversation. People give one another notice to be upon their guard with such men, and to use caution in dealing with people of principles so odious. Fot do not deceive yourselves ; do not think to impose long on the public ; do not imagine your turpitude can be long hid, ** there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed," Matt. x. 26. We know well enough how to distinguish a<;haritable man from a* miser. A note of infamy is set upon the last, and people say to one another, See, observe that old man, who alone possesses a fortune sufficient for ten fam^ ilies, see how avariciously he accumulates money, and how cruelly he refuses to assist the poor with the least particle of what death is just going to take from him! See that proud ambitious woman, who displays her vanity with so much parade in the sight of the whole world, see how she makes the poor ex- piate the guilt of her pride, by feeding her vanity with what ought to buy them bread. Thus people talk. They do more, they reckon, they calculate, they talk the matter over at large in public compa- ny, one relates the history of the miser, and another makes quaint remarks, and all together form an pdious portrait, which every man abhors. % Consider benevolence in regard to religioiiy and particularly in regard to the christian religion, of y^hiph we affirmed it was the essence. In what light poever you view Jesus Christ, the teacher of the gos- pel, you will fin4 him displaying this virtue. Con- The Duly ^. giving Alwu. 285 eider bim as appointed to save you^ observe his birth, his preaching, his actions, hi? preparation for death, his death itself; in all these different views he recom- mends charity to you. Consider Jesus ^s appointed for salvation. What inclined God to form the design of saving the world? Was it any eminent quality i^ man? Were we not children of wrath, execrable objects in the eyes of the Lord? Was it any service rendered to God? Alas! we were enemies in our minds by wicked works, Col. i. 21. Was it any prospect of retribution ? But *^ our goodness extendeth not unto him,*' Psal. xvi. 2. Is not all-suffiseiency one of his attributes? What then inclined God to form a plan of redemption ? Ask Je- sus Christ. He will inform you, " God so loved the world that he gave his Son," John iii. 16. Ask the apostle Paul. He will tell you, " It was for his great love wherewith he loved us," Eph. ii. 4. The birth of Jesus Christ preacheth love to us ; for why this flesh? why this blood? why this incarna- tion ? In general it was for our salvation. My breth- ren, have you ever weighed these words of St. Paul ? " As the children are partiakers of flesh and blood," —(the scripture contains elevated sentiments which can never be enough studied. Divines distinguish senses of scripture into literal and mystical; we add a third, a sublime sense, and this passage is an exam- ple,) — "As the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself took part of the same, that l^e might be a merciful and faithful high priest., For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, be is able to sQccour them tha^ are tempted/' Heji>, ii. 14, 286 Th$ Duty of giving Alms. &c Observe these words, '* be took part of flesh and blood that be might be merciful/' What! could he not be merciful without flesh and blood ? ^ In that he hath sufiered being tempted, be is able to succour tbem that are tempted.*' How ! Is not Jesus Christy as Lord of the universe, able to deliver us from temp- tations ? True, be is Almighty. His compassion in- clines him to succour us. Yet, it should seem^ ac- cording to St Paul, that something was wanting to hb omnipotence. It seems as if universal knowledge was not sufficient to inform him fully of the excess of our miseries. What was wanting was to know our ills by experimeitfal feeling. This knowledge is in- compatible with deity, deity is impassible; and.it was to supply this, and to acquire this knowledge, that God made known to the world the unheard-of mystery of God nuinifest in theJUsh^ so that the Sa- viour might be inclined to relieve miseries which be himself had felt. " He also himself took part of flesh and blood, that he might be merciful. For in tliat be himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted.** Jesus Christ in his doctrine hath taught us benevo- lence, for to what but love does all his doctrine tend ? What is the new commandment he gave us ? " That we should love one another," John xiii. 24. What is " pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father?" Is it not " to visit the fatherless and the widows^?*' James i. 27. What one thing was lacking to the young man who had not commit- ted adultery, had not killed, had not defrauded? W^s it not ** to sell bis goods, and give totlie poor?'* 7%f Dvty nf giving AUns. Matt. xix. 2L The whole system of cbristianiljr tends to charity ; the doctrines to charity ; the dxh ties to charity ; the promises to charity ; the ordi- nances which assemble us in one house, as members of one fiimily, wfaece we eat at one table, as chil- dren of one father, all tend to establish the domin- ion of charity. The actions of Jesus Christ preach charity to us, for all his life was employed iri exercises of beneVo- lence. What zeal for the saltation of his neigh- bours! Witness his powerful exhortations, his ten- der prayers, bis earnest entreaties. What compas- sion for -the miseries of others ! Witness his emo- tions, when ^he saw , the multitudes fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep baring no shepherd,** Matt ix. 36. witness the tears he shed at the grave of Lazarus, and over ungrateful Jerusalem. We have, in a few words, an abridgement of the most amiable life that ever was : '^ He went about doing good,'* Acts. X. 38. Jesus preached charity in his preparation for death. You know what troubles agitated his mind at the approach of this terrible period. You kfiow what difference there is between his death and our death. As we draw near to death we approach a throne of grace ; but Christ went to a tribunal of vengeance. We go to our father ; he went to his judge. We are responsible for our own sins ; but upon the head of this victim lay all the crimes of the people of God. Amidstsd many formidable objects, what fiHed the- mind of , Je&us Christ ? Love, ** Now, holy Fa-^ ther^ I am DO D9ore in the worlds** said hc^ ^ boi 288 The JDufy of giving Alms. these are in the world, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast. given me, that they may be one as we are,** John xvii. 11. As if he had said, Father, take me for the victim of thy displeasure, let me feel all its strokes, give me the dregs of the cup of thine indignation to drink ; provided my be^ loved disciples be saved, my joy will be full.. . In fine, Jesus Christ taught us benevolence by his death ; for '^ greater love than this hath no man, tliat a man lay down his life for his friends," John xv. 13. There was neither a wound in his body, nor an in- cision in his hands or his feet, nor a drop of bis blood that was shed, which did not publish benevolence. His love supported him against the fears of death, the terrors of divine justice, and the rage of hell. His love extended even to his executioners; and, less affected with his own pains than with the mise- ries to which their crimes exposed them, he fetched, (it was one of his last sighs,) a sigh of love, and ready to expire, said, " Father forgive them, they know not what they do," Luke xxiii. 34. Such is the gospel. Such is your religion. Now I ask, my brethren, can a man imagine himself a dis- ciple of sucli a master, can he aspire at such noble promises, can he admit such truths, in one word, can he be a christian, and not be charitable ? Have we not reason to affirm, that benevolence is the essence of Christianity, the center to which the lines of all christian virtues tend ? 3. A third reflection, that is, that benevolence triumphs over the. horrors of deaths ought to have great weight with Us. A meditation of death is one i The Duty rf giving Alms. 289 of the most powerful of all motives to guard us against temptations, agreeably to a fine saying of the son of Sirach, " Whatsoever thou takest in hand, remember the end, and thou shalt never do amiss,*" Ecclus. vii. 36. This thought hath a peculiar influ- ence in regard to charity. In effect, what is death ? I consider it principally in two views, first, as a general shipwreck, in which our fortunes, titles, and dignities are lost. " We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out," 1 X*nfi* vi. 7. Next, I con- sider it as the time of examination and judgment, for ^ it is appointed to all men once to die, and after that the judgment,** Heb. ix. 27. The moment of death is a fatal period, in which are united the exces- ses of our youth, the distractions of our manhood, the avarice of our old age, our pride, our ambition, our impurity, our covetousness, our treacheries, our perjuries, our calumnies, our blasphemies, our luke- warmness, our profanations; all these crimes will form one black cloud, heavy and hanging ready to burst on our beads. These are two just views of death, and id6as of these make, if I nriay be allowed to say so, the two most formidable weapons of the king of terrors, the most terrible of all terrible things* But the benev- olent man is covered from these attacks. The charitable man need not fear a deprivation of his fortune, for in this respect he docs not die. He hath prevented the ravages of death by disburden* ing himself of his riches. He hath eradicated the U>ve oTthe wwld. He hath given to the poor what TOi.. IV. aP7 290 7%^ Duty of giving Alms. would otherwise have fed avarice. Yet, let me rfe- collect myself, the charitable man doth not impov- erish himself by his benevolence. He hath sent hi& fortune before him. These are scriptural ideas. *^ He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the Lord, and that which he hath given, will he pay him again. Make to yourselves friends of the maramoti of unrighteousness, that when ye fail, they may re- ceive you into everlasting habitations,'* Prov. xix. 17. Luice xvi. 9. At death the christian beholds these friends opening their arms to receive him. I recol- lect here an epitaph said to be engraven on the tomb of Atolus of Rheims. He exported his fortune before him into heaven by his charities^ he is gone thither to tf^oy if. What a fine epitaph, my brethren I Happy he, who, instead of such pompous titles as the vani- ty of the living puts on the tombs of the dead, un- der pretence of honouring the merit of the deceas- ed, instead of such nauseous inscriptions as feed pride anjong bones, worms, and putrefaction, ob- jects so proper to teach us humility, happy he, who has a right to such an epitaph as that just now mentioned ! He exported his fortune before him into heaven by his charities, he is gone thither to enjoy it. Happy he, who, instead of splendid fune- ral processions, and a long train of hired attendants, who seem less disposed to lament death than to in- crease the numbers of the dead, happy he, whose fu- neral is attended and lamented by the poor! Happy he, whose funeral oration is spoken by the wretched in sobs and sighs and expressions like these, I was naked, and he clothed me, I was hungry, and he fed The Duty jff giving Alms. 294 me, I lived a dying life, and he was the happy io- ^rument of providence to support me ! A charitable man need not fear death considered as a time of account. What saith the scripture con- cerning charity in regard to our sins? **It cover- eth a multitude," 1 Pet. iv. 8. Daniel giveth thiB counsel to a guilty king, " Break off thine ini^ quilies by shewing mercy to the poor,*' chap. iv. 27. Not that our scriptures authorize a sacrilegious com- mentary, such as some sinners make upon these pas- sages. Under pretence, that it is said, charity cover^ cth a mvltitude of sinSy or that it puts away our sinSj (the sense of the first is disputed, and we will not iiow explain it,) under this pretence, I say, some christians pretend to^oake a tacit compact with God. The im,port of this contract is, itbat the dinner should be allowed by God, for the sake of his alms-deeds, to persist in sin. An unjust man, who retains the pioperty of others, will gijFe a trifle to the poor, and, under pretence that charity covereth a multitude if sinSy will hold himself free from the law of restitu- tion. A debauchee will give alms, and, imder pre- tence that charity covereth a multitude of sinSy will think himself authorised to lead an unclean life. Great God! is this the idea we form of thy majesty! If these be the motives of our virtues, whence do our vices spring ? Shall we pretend with presents to blind tliinc^y^s, eyes of purity itself! Would we make thee, O God ! an accomplice in our crimes? and have we forgot that prohibition so remarkable in thy law, "thou shall not bring the hire of ji whore, or tl^e price of a dog, into the house of the 292 Ijkc Dutjf of Himug JbU. Lord ?" Deut. xxiii. 18. It is^ howerer, very cerv tain that charity disarms death, in regard to that aci count whicli we are about to giye of the manfier in which we have disposed of our property, for charity is t he least equivocal mark of our Christianity, and the least suspicious evidence of our faiUi. I do not know whether in the perfect enjoyment of health, and the pleasures of life, you enter into these reflections; but when you think yourselves ready to expire, you implore our assistance, and re- quire us to comfort you. We seldom succeed much on these occasions. Miserable comforters ^re we all. Religion with all ijts evidences, grace with 2^11 its charms, the promises of the gospel with all their magnificence, are generally insufficient to adminis^ ter consolation. Christians, you must certainly die : arm us tl)en to-day against yourselves. Put into our hands to-day an argument against that fear of death which will shortly seize you. Give weight to oxir ministry, and by disarming death by your char- ities, put us into a condition to shew you death dis- armed at the end of your life. 4. Charity provides against the terrors with which an apprehension of the last judgment ought to in- spire us. Jesus Christ hath furnished us with this idea, for thus he speaks in the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew, " When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, he shall say unto them on his right hand. Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirs- The Dutg of giving Aim. 293 . ty, and ye gave me drink. Inasmuch aB ye have done it unto one of the least of these ray brethren, ye have done it unto tne," ver. 32, &c. There is another of the passages of which we just now spoke^ and which ought to be understood in a sense altogether sublime. Jesus Christ personates the poor, and takes on himself, if I may speak so, ^^\ then* obligations. What is the reason of this con* duct ? If the poor be so dear to him, why does he leave them to suffer ; and if he leave them to suflfer, why does he say they are so dear to him ? My bretb* reu, this is intended to exercise our faith, and to pu^ rify our love. Should Christ come to us in pomp and glory, suiTOunded with devouring fire, with aQ the ensigns of his majesty, attended by seraphimc^ and by thousand thousands ministering unto him; should he come in this manner to ask of us a cup of water, a piece of bread, a little money, which of us would refuse to grant his request? But this mark of our love would be suspicious. It would proceed from emotions iexcited by the splendour of his ma- jesty, rather than from genuine love. No wonder a king is respected in his court, and upon his throne; majesty dazzles^ and ensigns of supreme dignity ex- cite emotions in all the powers of our souls. But should this king survive some disgrace, should he be banished from his kingdom, and abandoned by bis subjects, then his real friends would be discovered, and he would prepare them a thousand rewards. This is an image of Jesus Christ* In vain prostrating our- selves at the foot of his throne, we say to him a thou- sand times over, Lordy thou knowest that we love thee. 294 Tke Duty of giving Abns. Perhaps this profession of esteem may proceed more from a love of the benefits, tban of the benefactor who bestows them. Banished from his heavenly comrt in the persons of his members, forsaken by his subjects, covered with rags, and lodged in an hospi- tal, he comes to try his real friends, solicits tlieir compassion, presents his miseries to them, and tells them at the same time, that his condition will not be always thus despicable, that he shall be soon re-es- tablished on his throne, and that he will then recom- pense their care with eternal felicity ; this is the meaning of the words just now read, "I was an hun- gred, and ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink;'* Grand motive to cljarity! Immense weight with a soul the least animated with ingenu- ousness and fervour ! I am not surprised, howet^r, that motives so strong in themselves are frequently ineffectual with us. Always confined in a sphere of sensible objects, taken up with the present moment, contracted within the limits of our own small circle, we never look forward to futin it v, never think of that great day in which God will judge the world in righ^ teousness, and fix our eternal doom. But who is there, who is there, that in the presence of all man- kind, in the presence of all the angels of heaven, in the presence of the whole universe, and in the pres- ence of God himself, can bear this reproof from the mouth of the Son of God, " I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat, I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink !" 5. Let us consider charity in regard to heaven it- selH We say benevolence is a celestial virtue, and The Duty of giving Alms. 295 we propose this fifth reflection to you, in order to enforce the necessity, ^and to display the excellence of charity. Understand, my brethren, all the other virtues which the gospel prescribes to us, are charac- terized by a mortification, which obliges us to enter into our nothingness, and reminds us of our turpitude and misery. They are not absolute positive excel- lencies, they are remedies for our ills. For exam- ple, faith supposes our ignorance ; hope supposes our poverty ; patience implies afflictions; repentancesup: poses sin. All public worship, prayer, humiliation, fasting, sacraments, all imply that we are gross and carnal. All this will have no place in heaven. In heaven there will be no faith, no hope, no prayer, no patience. In heaven there will be neither humilia^ tion, nor fasting, nor sacraments. Charity, rising out of love, is superior to all other exercises, it hath an exceUence proper to itself; love will follow us to heaven, and heaven is the abode of love. There God, who is love, establisheth his empire ; there perfect' love reigns; there is seen the inefiable love which the father bath for his Son ; there is found that in- comprehensible union which unites the three divine persons who are the object of our worship; there Jesus Christ, our mystical head, unites himself with his members ; there is displayed the love of God to glorified saints, with whom he shares his felicity and glory; there the love of glorified saints to God is made manifest; there are seen those tender ties which unite the inhabitants of heaven to each other, hearts aiming at the ^ame end, burning with the same fire, enlivened with the same zeal, and joining in one voice 296 The Duty ^ giving Alms, to celebrate the author of their existence ; there, then, benevolence is a heavenly virtue ; it constitutes the felicity of the place. Love is the most perfect of all pleasures. The more the Deity approacheth his saints by an effusion of this love, and the more he communicates the delights of it to them, the more the saints approach God by a return of love ; and the nearer they draw to the source of happiness, the hap- pier they render themselves and one another by such communications. Let us not lightly pass over this reflection. It is good to be here. ** He that hath ears to hear, let him hear," Mdtt. xL 15. He that hath the most refined sense, the quickest invention, the most noble imagina- tion, let him conceive a society united by the purest principles, and cemented by the firmest virtue. This is paradise, this is love. This is charity ; char- ity that gives no alms, because none in heaven are indigent, but charity which goes so far as to give all, to give up happiness, to give self, to sacrifice self for other objects of love ; witness the presents whict^ came from heaven; witness the description of this holy place ; witness God, who gave us his Son, his only Son, the tenderest object of his love ; witness the Son, who gave himself; witness the blessed an- gels, who encamp round about us to protect and de- fend us ; witness the triumphs of glorified saiqts^ who rejoice over one sinner that repenteth, as if more interested in his happiness than in tlieir own ; witness the crowns which the saints cast before the throne of the Lamb, resigning, as it were, in his fa- vt)ur their felicity and glory ; witness these expres- Tht Duly of givifig Atnuf. ii9i sions of love, which we shall one day understaind by an experimental enjoyment of them^ "his ban- ner over me is love* Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm ; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel a& the grave j the coals thereof are coals of fire, which have a most vehement flame« Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it," Cant ii* 4^ and vi. 5, After having elevated our ndeditation to heaved^ we return to you, my brethren. We blUsh at whdt we are doing to-day. We are ashamed to preachy complain, and exhort. Why ? Are we endeavouring to engage you to sacrifice your fortunes, to renounce your lives, to become accursed for your brethren? Are we trying to induce you to perform some hero- ical and uncommon act of love? No. Alas! Alas I We are obliged to exhort, and complain, and preachy to obtain of you a little bit of bread, a few tattered clothes, a little small share of what you give with gr^at profusion to the world* Good God ! What christians are you ! Is this the church 1 Are you the household of faith ? Are we prea(*hing to citizens of heaven ? Are we knocking at the doors of hearts that believe a life eternal ? But how will vou enter into that abode with such unfeeling souls ? Would you go to interrupt the communion of saints ? Would you go to disorder heaven, and to disconcert angels? And do you not perceive, that if you do not put on bowels of mercies, you banish yourselves from an abode in which all breathe chaiity and lave? VOL- IT. 38 20^ The Duty of giving Alms. In fine, We consider clmrity in regardT to God himself. Love is the essence of Deity. God is love. 80 an apostle hath defined it. Here reflections rise from every part to establish oui* principle. Nature» providence, society, the church, heaven, earth, eie^ ments, all preach to us the love of God ; all preach to u6 the excellence of charity, which makes us re- semUe God, in the most lovely of his attributes. It would give us pleasure to enlarge on each of these articles, were it not necessap', after having made some general reflections on benevolence, which is the principle of alms-giving, to make some particu^ lar reflections on alms-deeds themselves. II, My brethren, were it only necessary in this discourse to give you high ideas of benevolence, and to convince you in general of the necessity of giving alms, we would here put a period to our sermon. But can we be ignorant of what passes on these oc- casions T Each satisfies himself with a vague appro- bation of such truths. Each is convinced that we ought to be charitable, and that the poor should be relieved : but each is content with himself, and, ex- amining less what he gives than whether he gives, persuades himself that he does enough, and that no- body ought to complain of him. It is then necessa- ry, before we finish this discourse, to enter into some detail, and to prescribe some rules, by which we may pretty well know what each is obliged to give in alms.^ We will not determine whh exactprecision on thisarti- cle.^ We are fully convinced, that, were we to conduct you from principle to principle tpJtin exact demon- stration of wh^it the gospel requires of you in this 2%e Duty of giving Alms^ 299 case, we should speak of things which would make you suq)ect that we took pains to advance unheard* of maxims, and to preach paradoxes. We will then content ourselves with proposing five considerations to you; or, to speak more plain- ly, we will produce five calculations, to which we beg your attention, and, after we have spoken of them, we will leave every man's conscience at lib^> ty to draw consequences. The first calculation is that of the charities which God prescribed to the Jefrs under the law. The second is that of the char« ities of the primitive christian church. The third is that of our superfluous expences. The fourth is that of the number of our poor. The last is that of the funds appropriated to their support. f .nThe first calculation is that of the alms which God prescribed to the Jews, and in this we include all that they were indispensibly obliged to furnish for religion. This calculation may well make chris- tians blush, as it convinces us of this melancholy truth, that, though our religion excels all religions in the world, yet its excellence lies in the gospel, and not in the lives of those who profess it. 1. The Jews were obliged to abstain from all tfa# fruits that grew on trees new planted the first three years. These first fruits were accounted uncircura- cision. It was a crime for the planters to appropri- ate them. Lev. xix. 23. 2. The fruits of the fourth year were devoted to the Lord. They were called holy^ to praise the Lord withal. Either they were tent to Jerusalem, or be- ing valued, they were redeemed by a sum equivalent 900 t^ Dutj of giving Alms* paid to the priest; so that these people did not begin to receive the profits of their fruit trees till the fifth year, 3. The Jews were obliged every year to offer to God the " first of all the fruits of the earth," Deut, xxvi, 2, When the head of a family walked in his garden, and perceived which tree first bore fruit, be distinguished it by tying on a thread, that he might know it when the fruits were ripe. At that time each fetber pf a family put that fruit into a basket. . At length all the heads of families, who had gathefed such fruit in one town, were assentbled, and deputies were chosen by them to carry them to Jerusalem, These offerings were put upon an ox crowned with flowers, and the commissioners of the convoy went in pomp to Jerusalem, singing these words oli^^he hundred and twenty-second psalm, " I was glad, when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." When they arrived at the city, they sung these words, ^' Our feet shall stand within thy gates, Jerusalemt'* At length they went to the temple, each carrying his offering on his shoulders, the king himself npt excepted, again singing, '• Lift up your beads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlast- ing doors. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors," Psal, xxiv. 7. 4, The Jews were obliged to leave the corn on their lands ends for the use of the poor; and, in or^. der to avoid the frauds which might be practised in this case, it ws^s determined to leave the sixtieth part pf the land 9S ^ just proportion for the poor. Lev, I%e Duty of givii^ Alms. 301 5. Tbe ears of corn, i/vhich fell from the band in harvest time, were devoted to the same purpose; and if you consult Josephus,'* he will tell you that the Jews held themselves obliged by this command of God, not only to leave the poor such ears of corn as fell by chance, but to let fall some freely and on purpose for them to glean. 6. The Jews were obliged to give the fortieth part of their produce to the priest, at least it is thus the Sanhedrim explained the law written in the eigh- teenth chapter of Deuteronomy. 7. They were obliged to pay a tenth ta maintain the Levites, Numb. xvii. 16. 8. The produce of the earth every seventh year belonged to the poor, at least the owner had no more right than people who had no property, Lev. xxv. 23. This command is express, and the Jews have such an idea of this precept, that they pretend the captiv- ity in Babylon was a punishment for the violation of it. To this belong these words, "The land shall enjoy her sabbaths as long as it lieth desolate, and ye be in your enemy's land ; even then shall the land rest, and enjoy her sabbaths," chap, xxxvi. 34. 9. All debts contracted among this people were released at the end of every seven years ; so that a debtor, who could not discharge his debt within seven years, was at the end of that time released from all obligation to discharge it, 2 Chron. xxxvi. 21. Deut, XV. 2. To all these expences add extraordinaries for sac- rifices, oblations, journies to Jerusalem, half shekels * Antiq. Jud. cap. 8. lib. iv. to the sanctuary, and so on, and you will find, that God imposed upon his people a tribute amounting to neariy half their income."^ What is worthy of CMflideration is, that the modem Jews, as you may convince yourselves by conversing with them, not bdag able literally to discbarge a great number of precepts, which originally related to their ancestors, are &r from being lax in relieving their poor ; so that if there are as many Jews in a place as form what ibey call a congregation (and ten they say are sufficient) they appoint treasurers to collect charities fi>rthe poor* Lest avarice, prevailing oter princi- ple, should prevent the discharge of this duty, they have judges who examine their ability, and who tax tbem at about a tenth of their income, so that one of the greatest offences which we give them, and which prejudices them against Christianity, is the little char- ity christians have for the poor. A scandal, by the way, and to your confusion let it be spoken, which would undoubtedly increase, if they were better ac- quainted with you, and if they saw that affected dis- sipation, which prevents many of you from seeing the hands held out to receive alms for the poor at ♦he doors of our churches. This is the first calculation we have to propose to you. Having proposed it to your examination we will determine nothing. One reflection, however, must not be omitted, that is, that the gospel is an economy infinitely more noble, and more excellent than the law. The gospel, by abolishing the leviti- * Episcopius Inst. Theol. Ub. iii. cap. ^r The Duty of giving AlmSi. 903 cal ceremonies, hath enforced the morality of judih km much more effectually, and particularly what regards charity. Jesus Christ hath fixed nothing on this article. He bath contented himself by enjoin* ing us in general ^ to love our neigbour as our- selves," not being willing to set any other bounds to •ur love for him than those which we set to our love for ourselves. If then under an economy so gros^; if under an economy in which differences were made between Jews and Gentiles, nation and nation, peo<* pie and people, (which always restrain charity^) God required his people to give, to say the least, a third part of their income, what, what are the obli- gations of christians ! I repeat it again, were I to pursue these reflections, I should certainly be taxed with advancing unheard-of maxims, and preaching paradoxes. II. The second calculation we have to propose to you is that of the charities of the primiUm christians. The great master had so fully imparts cd his own charitable disposition to his disciples, that, according to St. Luke, ^^ all that believed had all things common ; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need," Acts ii. 44, 45. In the time of Tertullian, christian charity was proverbial, and it was said of them, " See how they love on© another ;'''^ insomuch that the heathens, surpria* ed to see an union so affectionate, ascribed it to sit- pematural causes. They said, christians had some unknown characters imprinted on their bodies, and * Tertul. Apol. xx:ii:ix. 904 The Duty 6j giving Alms. these characters had the virtues of inspiring them with love for one another.f Lucian, that satyrical writer, ^f^ho died in tbe reign of Marcus Aurelius, in a dis- course on the death of the philosopher Peregrinus, who burnt himself at the Olympic games, Lucian, I say, by attempting to satirize christians, passed a high encomium on them. ^' It is incredible, says he, what pams and diligence they use by all means to succovu: one another. Their legislator made them believe that they are all brethren, and since they have re- nounced our religion, and worshipped their crucified leader, they live according to his laws, and all their riches are commonj.*' We have also an undoubted testimony of Julian the apostate on this article. He was one of the greatest persecutors of the primitive christians, and be was a better politician in the art of persecution than either his predecessors or succes- sors. Julian did not attack religion with open vio- lence ; he knew, what we have seen with our own eyes, that is, that violence inflames zeal, and that the blood of martyrs is the seied of the church. He at- tacked religion in another manner, and, as the chari- ty of the primitive christians rendered Christianity venerable, this tyrant attempted to clothe paganism with christian charity. Thus he wrote to a pagan priest. " Let us consider, saith he, that nothing hath s6 much contributed to the progress of the supersti- tion of christians as their charity to strangers. I think ^e ought to discharge this obligation ourselves. Es- tablish hospitals in every place ; for it would be a t Minutius Felix. % Lucian, torn. 2. dc la mort du fil. Peregrincv 7%e Dithf of giving Alms. 305 shame for us to abandon our poor, while the Jews have none, and while the impious Galileans (thus he- calls christians) proTide not only for their own poQr> but also for ours" / ■ . If you wish for observations more particulw^cro;^. cerning-primitlTe christian charity, we answer, 1. The primitire christians expended large smQS in propagating the faith, and in preaching the go^ pel. They thought that the principal care of a chria^ tian, after bringing into captivity bis own iho^kts to the obedience of Christ, was to conrert others- Ec- clesiastical history gires us many examples, and par- ticularly, that of St. Chrysostora, menlioned by The-: odoret. "He assembled n>onks full ofzeal.and sent. them to preach the gospel in Pbenicia ; and, having understood that there were people dispersed along the banks of the Danube who thirsted for the waters of grace, he sought out men of ardent zeal, whom be sent to labour like apostles in the propagation of the faith."* I blush to mention this example, because it recals that reproach which we just now mentioned* that is, that we have no zeal for the salvation of in- fidels, and that the fleets which we send to the new world, are much more animated with a desire of ac- cumulating weaUh, than of conveying the gospel ip., the natives. 2. The priipitive christians paid a wonderful atleo- tion to liie sieh'.- Tliey kept people on purpose for this pious office. Tii the city of Alexandria alone, tt» number %v3.s'so,g«fflljfHiatTheodosiu3 was obliged to dimi^h- it, and to' fix it at five hundred;' lihd • Thk<«.- Hitt. Eccles. v. 29, 30, kc. vc».. IT. 39 3kp& The Duty of giving Alms. when it was afterwards represented to him that the number was unequal to the task, be increased it to six hundred, as a law in the Theodosian code informs us.'* I cannot help repeating on this occasion a beau- tiful passage of Eusebius. Speaking of a plague which ravaged Egypt, after he bad described it, he adds^ "Many of ourbrethren, neglecting their own health, through an excess of charity have brought upoa themselves the misfortunes and maladies of others. After they had held in their arms the dying saints, after they had closed their mouths and their eyes, after they had embraced, kissed, washed, and adorn- ed them with their best habits, and carried them on their shoulders to the grave, they have been glad tliemselves to receive the same kind offices from oth- ers who have imitated their zeal and charity ."f , 3. The primitive christians were very chaiitable in redeeming captives. Witness St. Ambrose, who was inclined to sell the sacred utensils for that purpose* Witness St. Cyprian, who, in a letter to the bishopvS of Numidia concerning some christians taken cap- tive by barbarians, implores their charity for the deliverance of these miserable people, and contribu- ted towards it more than a thousand pounds. Witness a history related by Socrates. The Romans had taken seven thousand persons prisoners, maqy of whom perished with hunger in their captivity. A christian bishop named AcaciusassembleU his churchy and addressed them in this sensible and pious lan- guage : " God needeth not, said he, .neither dishes oi • Code Theod. lib. xvi. 2. , ; t -Eusfb. Hist. Eccles. lib. vii. cap. 22. . . ' - / The Duty (f giving' Alms. 367 ^ps, as he neither eats nor drinks ; 1 think it right, therefore, to make a sale of a great part of the church plate, and to apply the money to the support and redemption of captives/' Socrates adds, that he caused the holy utensils to be melted down, and paid the soldiers for the ransom of the prisoners, maintained them all winter, and sent them home in the spring with money to pay the expence of their jour- ney •*•* In fine, the charity of the primitive christians ap- pears, by the pions foundations which they made, by the innumerable hospitals which they supported, and above all, by the immiense, and almost incredible/ number of poor which they maintained. Observe these words of St. Chrysostom : " Consider, says he, among how many poor, widows, and orphans, this church distributes the charity of onei rich man ; the number in the catalogue is three thousand, not to mention extraordinary assistances given to prisoners, people sick in hospitals, strangers, leprous persons, servants of the church, and many other persons, whose necessities oblige them to apply every day, and who receive both food and clothing."t What renders this the more remarkable is, that the primi- tive christians placed their glory in their cliarities. We have a famous example in the conduct of the church of Rome in regard to the Emperor Decius. This tyrant demanded their treasure ; a deacon an- swered for the whole church, and required one day * Ambros. Offic. lib. ii. cap. 28. S. Cyprian Let. Ix. Edit. Oxon. 67. Socrat. Hist.Eccles. lib. vii.cap. 21. + Chrysost Homil. IxvL in St. Matt Edit. Front. Due Ixvii. # 308 I%e Duty of giving Jims. to comply with the order of the Emperor. When the ierm was expired, be assembled all the blind, aqd the lame, and the sick, that were supported by the church, and pointing to them, told the tyrant, ^' these are the riches of the church, these its revenue and trea* 8ure."t I have collected these examples to con- vince you, my brethren, that we have degenerated from the virtue of our ancestors, and that the lives of the primitive christians, at least in this article, were a lively comment on the doctrine of their mas- ter. III. A third calculation, which we conjure you to examine as christians ought, is that of your superflwms expences. We do not call those expences superfluous which are necessary to your maintenance, . nor those which contribute to the convenience and pleasure of life, nor those which support your rank ; we do not touch this part of your fortune ; we agree, that, be- fore you think of your brethren, your countrymen, the household of faiths you should set apart (sad ne- cessity, my brethren, wliich engageth us to preach to you a morality so lax, and to ask so little, lest we should obtain nothing) we agree, I say, that before you think of the poor you should set apart as much as is necessary for your maintenance to a certain de- gree; for your ornaments to a certain degree; for your amusement and appearances to a certain de- gree ; all this we give up, and agree, tliat this part shall be sacred, and that it shall be accounted a crime to touch the least particle of it. But reckon, I be- seech you, what sums are consumed beyond all this. Cast your eyes about this church. Endeavour to t Ambros. Offic. lib. ii. cap. 28. # The Vui^f ^ giving Alms, 3Qd calculate the immense suras that have been spent in luxury since you laid aside that wise simplicity which your ancestors exemplified ; I say since th^t time, for before, this article could not have appear- ed in a christian sermon. Let us reckon what it now spent in extravagant entertainments, excessiye gaining, immodest dresses, el^ant furniture, and constant public amusements, all become now neces- sary by habit Such a calculation would convince us, that what is given to the poor is noticing in com- parison with what is spent in luxury; and yet I will venture to affirm, that in times like the present we are bound to give a jg;reat deal more than our super- fluities in charity. The poor we recommend to you are, for the most part, so venerable ; they have im- poverished themselves for such a noble cause, that we ought to retrench even our necessary expences to support them. Ai. least this superfluity, such a superfluity as we have described, a superfluity given to vice, can we refuse to give it to the Lord? If we dedicate it to the poor, we ofi*eri to God altogether our criminal pleasures and the money they cost, our passions and our charities ; and by so doing we dis- charge two religious duties, and present a double sacrifice* lY. The last calculation we make (a sad calcula- tion indeed, but, however, necessary) is that of thci number of oiir poor j and, to abridge the matter, we join to this an account of the funds which we have to support them. It is necessary to enter into this detail, for some people pay no attention to these things ; indeed, they know in general that there are 310 The Duty tf giving Aims. poor, but, satisfied with their own abundance, they ffwe tbemselires little concern to know how many such persons there are. Turn your eyes a moment from your own pros- perity, and fix them on these objects. All the world Inows, that an infinite number of poor people are supported in this country by charity ; all the world knows that the afflictions with which it hath pleased God to visit our churches, have filled these provinces with an innumerable multitude of distressed objects, who have no other resource than the charity of our magistrates. This charity will always be a reason for our gratitude. It enlivens not only those who partake of it, but all the rest of the exiles who be- hold with the tenderest sensibility the benefits con- ferred on their brethren. But wo be to you, if the charity of the state be made a pretext for your hard- heartedness, and if public beneficence be made an obstacle to private alms-deeds ! Understand, then, that beside the poor we have mentioned, there is a great number who have no share in the bounty of the states. This church hath several members of this sort. Beside an infinity of occasions which pre- sent themselves every day, beside a thousand extra- ordinary cases unprovided for, beside a number of indigent persons occasionally relieved, the church supports many hundreds of families, in which are many infants, many sick, many aged, and many dying; they who have been supported through life, must be buried after their death at the charge of the church. All these wants must be regularly Supplied every week, whether there be money in The Duty of gimgAtm. 311 hand or not When your charities &il, our of- ficers assist the poor with their purse, as at all times they assist them with their pains. Is the pay- ment of the weekly sums deferred ? Alas ! if it be deferred one single day, the poor have no bread that day : the dying expires without succour : the dead lies unburied, and putrifies> and infects those who ath sisted him while alive. Whatever pains are taken, whatever exactness is observed, how great soever your charities be, the poor's fund in this church cannot supply all their wants. — What am I saying, the funds of the church ? We have none. We have no other supplies than what are derived from our charity given at the door of the church, from legacies left by a few pious per- sons, and from collections. All these are expended^ and more than expended. Our officers are in arrears^ and have no other hopes than what are founded on your donations to-day, or next Wednesday, to the collection of which I give you this public notice. . You will ask me, without doubt. How then do all these poor subsist? for it is very certain they do sub- sist, and nobody perishes with hunger. How do they subsist^ Can you want to be informed ? Why, they suffer — ^they weep — ^they groan — from want of food they fall sick — ^sickness increases their wants — their wants increase their sickness — ^they fall victims to death — a death so much the more cruel by how much the more slow it is ; — and this death — ^this death cries to heaven for vengeance against you who shut up your bowels of compassion from them. 312 The Dufy tf giving Alms. ' My brethren, with what eyes do you see these things ? What effects do these sad objects produce upon you ? Can you behold the miseries of your Ivethren without compassion ? Cau you without any emotion of pity hear Jesus Christ begging his bread idf you ? And all these blows that we hare given at the door of your hearts, shall they serve only to dis- cover the hardness of them, and to aggravate your guat? We frequently complain, that our sennons are use- less ; that our exhortations are unprofitable ; that our ministry produces neither wisdom in your minds, nor vlMue in your hearts, nor any alteration in your lives. You in your turn complain: you say we de- claim ; you aflSrm we exaggerate ; and, as the rea- sonableness or futility of our complaints depends on a discussion into which it is impossible for us to en- ter, the question remains undetermined. My brethren, you have it in your power to-day, and next Wednesday to make your apology. You may give a certain proof that you are not insensible to the care which God takes for your salvation. You may do us the favour to confound our reproofs, and to silence reproof for the future. Behold, our wants are before you. Behold, our hands are held out to receive your charity. Do not lessen your gift on account of what you have hitherto done ; do not complain of our impor- tunity ; do not say the miseries of the poor are per- petual, and their wants have no end ; but rather let your former charities be considered as motives to future charities. Become models to yourselves. Fol- The Dul^ if giving Ahki^ 913 low your own ejcample. Recollect, that what mak«i the glory, of this state and this church, what Jesus will commend at the last ddy, what will comfort you on your death-bed, will not be the rich beaufets that shine in your houses, the superb equipages that at> tend you, the exquisite dishes that nourish you, not even the signal exploits and numberless yictoriet which astonish the liniyers^, ^nd fill the world with your names; but the pious foundations you hare made, the families you have supported, the exiles you have received — these, these will be your felicity and glory. You say, the miseries of the poor are perpetual and their wants eifdless ; and this disheartens you* Alas ! Is not this, on the contrary, what ought to in* flame your charity ? What ! should your charity di- mmish as wants increase? What! because youf brethren are not weary of carrying the cross of Christ, are you weary of encouraging them to do so ? You say, the miseries of the poor are perpetual^ and their wants have no end. I understand you ; this reproach touches us in a tender part^ But have we less reason to complain, because we are always miserable? Yet, perhaps, we may not always be in a condition so melancholy. Perhaps God wiU hmt mercy upon his afflichd. Perliaps the flaming sword, which hath pursued us for more than twenty years^ will return into its scabbard, rest and be still. Per- haps we may some day cease to be a wretched peo- ple, wandeiing about the world, exciting the dis- pleasure of some, and tiring out the charity of otb- ^QL. rv. 40 3t.4 tke Duty of giving Alms. 6rs. Perhaps God, in order to recoinpence the char^ ity wbtck you have testified by receiving us, will grant you the glory of re-establishing us > and, as you have lodged the captive ark, will empower you to conduct it back to Shiloh with songs of victory and praise. Perhaps, if we all concur to-day in the same design; If we all unite in one bond of charity ; if, animated with such a noble zeal, we address^ our prayers to him, after we have offered to him our alms ; perhaps we niay build again the walls of our Jerusalem, and redeem our captive brethren from prisons, and gallies, and slavery. Perhaps, if God has determined that Egypt, which enslaves them, should be for ever the theatre of Hiis vengeance and curse, . he may bring out the remainder of his Israel with a mighty hand and an out-stretched army tvithjenh tU of silver and jewels of goldy with Jlocks and herdSy net an hoof being left hehindy according to the ex- pression pjf Moses, Exod. x. 11. After all, let us remember what was said at the beginning of this discourse, that if God requires alqnis of you, it is o^ving to his goodness towards you* Y«fs, I would engrave tliis truth upon your minds, and fix this sentiment in your hearts. I would make you fully understand, that God has no need of you to support hi^ poor, and that he hath a thousand ways at hand to support them without you. I would fein convince you, that if he leaves poor people aiHong you, it is for the reason we have already roeu- tioned ; it is from a sublime principle, for which I have no name. In dispensing his other favours, he makes you sink with joy under the weight of his The Dubf of^ gtw'ngr Abm^. ^5 magnificence and mercy; today he oflfers 1o owe you something. He would become your debtor. He makes bimsdf poor, that you may be enriched by enriching him. He would have you address that prayer which a prophet formerty addressed to him, *^ Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and flie power, and the gloiy, and the victory, and the majesty; fyr all that is in the heaven and in the earth is Ibine. Thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all. Both riches and honour come of tliee, and thou reignest over all, and in thine hand is power and might, and in thine hand it is to make great, and to give strength unto all. Now, there* fore, om- God, we thank thee, and praise thy glori- ous name. But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly after this sort? for all things come of thee, and of thine owa have we given thee. For we are strangers before thee and sojourners, as wer^ all our fathers: our davs on the earth are as a shadow,' and there is noufe abiding," 1 Chron. xxis. 11, &c. May these foitrible reasons, and these noble mo- tives convey light into Ihe darkest minds, andsofleti the most obdurate hearts ; and may each apply them to himself in particular! It happens, not unfrequent* iy, that on these occasions each trusts to the public, and, imagining that the charity of an individual will be nothing to the total sum, for this i-eason omits to give. No, my brethren, there is no person here who does not make one. There is no person here who ought not to consider himself the public, and, if I may venture to eay so, representing in soine sort the ^$ JlePui^ tf givwg Alms. i^hole congre^tion. Every person here ought to consider his own contribution as deciding the abun- dance or the insignificance of our collection. Let each therefore tax himself. Let no one continue in arrears. Let a noble emulation be seen amongst us. Ijet the man in power give a part of the salary of bis ofiSce. Let military men give a part of their rpay. Let the merchant give a part of the profits of bis trade. Let the mechanic give a part of the la* bour of his hands. Let the minister consecrate a part of what his ministry produces. Let the young man give a part of his pleasures. Let the lady be- stow a part of her ornaments. Let the dissipated give the poor that box ofdntmenty which was intend- ed for profane uses. I^t the native of Ihese provin- ces give a part of his patrimony : and let the refu- gee give a part of what he has saved from the fury of llie ocean when bis vessel was dashed to pieces ; and with a part of these remnants let him kindle a fire to offer sacrifices to that God who saved him from perishing by shipwreck. My brethren, I know not what emotions of joy penetrate and transport me. 1 know not what emo- tions of my heart promise me, that this discourse will be attended with more success than all we have ever addressed to you. Ye stewards of our charity, ask boldly. Come into our houses ye blessed of the Lord, and receive alms of a people who will contri- bute with joy, yea even with gratitude and thanks. But, my brethren, we are not yet content with you. Should you exceed all our expectations; flhould you give all your fortune ; should you leave I%e Duty of gwk^ Jim. 317 no poor hereafter among you ; all thur would not satisfy me. I speak not only for the interest of the poor, but for your own interest ; we wish you to give your charities with the same view. In giving your alms, give your minds, give your hearts. Commit to Jesus Christ not only a little portion of your property but your bodies, your souls, your sal* vation, that so you may be able to say in the agonies of death, ^ I know whom I have trusted, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day,** 2 Tim. L 12. God grant us this grace. To him be honour and glo« ry for ever. / SERMON X. Christian Heroism^ . Proverbs xvj. 32. He that rtdeth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city. frERE we to judge of these words by the first im- pressions they make on the mind, we should place them among such hyperbolical propositions as imag- ination forms to colour and exceed truth. The mind on some occasions is so struck as to magnify the ob* ject in contemplation. The more susceptible peo- ple are of lively impressions, the more subject they are to declamation and hyperbole. We find these maxims sometimes necessary in explaining the sacred authors. Were we to adhere scrupulously to their words, we should often mistake their meaning, and extend their thoughts beyond due bounds. The peo- ple of the east seldom express themselves with pre^ cision. A cloud intercepting a few rays of light is- the " sun darkened." A meteor in the air, is " Uw powers of the heavens shaken." Jonah in the belly of the fish, is a man ^^ down at the bottom of tbe mountains." Thunder is the ^* voice of Jehovaby powerful and full of majesty, dividing flames of fire, breaking cedars of Lebanon, making Syrians skip, ^ 320 Christian Heratsm. and stripping forests bare/' A swarm of insects It '* a nation set in battle array, marching every one on his ways, not breaking their ranks, besieging a city, having the teeth of a lion, and the cheek teeth of a great lion," Joel i. 6, and ii, 7, 9. If we be ever authorised to solve a difficult text by examining the licence of hyperbolical style ; if ever it be necessary to reduce hyperbole to precision^ is it not so now in explaining the text before us, ^^He that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketb a city ?'* What justness can there be in comparing a man, who by reflection corrects his passions, with an heroj who, in virtue of concerted plans, great fatigues^ spending days and nights on horseback, surmounting difficulties, enduring heats and colds, braving a vari- ety of dangers, at last arrives, by marching through a shower of shot darkening the air, to cut through a squadron, to scale a wall, and to hoist his flag in a conquered city ? But, however just this commentary may appear, you will make no use of it here, unless you place Christianity in the exercise of easy virtues, and after the example of most men accomtnodate religion to your passions, instead of reforming your passions by religion. Endeavour to form principles, resist fa- diion and custom, eradicate prejudice, undertake the conquest of yourself, carry fire and sword into the raost sensible part of your soul, enter the lists with your darling sin, " mortify your members which are upon earth," rise above flesh and blood, nature and self*love, and, to say all in one word, endeavour to "rule your spit it;'* and you will find that Solomon Chtislidn Heroism 321 bath rigorously observed the laws of precision, that lie hath spoken the language of logic, and not of ora* tory, and that there is not a shadow of hyperbole or exaggeration in this proposition, " He that ruleth hi§ spirit, is better than he that taketh a city/* But to what period shall we refer the explication of the text? We will make meditation supply the place of experience, and we will establish a trutbi which the greatest part of you have not experiencedi and which perhaps you never will experience. Thii is the design of this discourse. Our subject is true heroism, the real hero. I enter into the matter. The word heroism is bor- rowed of the heathens. They called those men he* roes, whom a remainder of modesty and religion prevented their putting into the number of their god$, but who, for the glory of their exploits, were too great to be enrolled among mere men. Let us pu-* rify this idea : The man of whom Solomon speaks^ " he who ruleth his spirit," ought not to be confound- ed with the rest of mankind ; he is a man transform- ed by grace ; one who, to use the language of scrip- ture, is a " partaker of the divine nature." We are going to speak of this man, and we will firdt describe him, and next set forth his magnanimity, or, to keep to the text, we will first explain ^hat it is to " rule the spirit," and, secondly, we will prove, that " he that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh H city." If we proceed further, it will only be to ad4 a few reflections, tending to convince you, tl at you are all called to heroism; that there is no middle way in religion ; that you must of neeessity eitbef VOL. IV. 41 322 Christian Heroism. bear the shatne and infamy of being mean and das- tardly souls^ or be crowned with the glory of herpes. I. Let us first explain the words of the text, " to rule tlie spirit/' Few words are more equivocal in the sacred language than this which our interpreters have rendered spirit. It is put in different places for the thoughts of the mind, the passions of thp hearty the emotions of sensey phantoms of imagination, and illusions of conaipiscenee. We will not trouble you with grammatical dissertations. In our idiom, " to rule the spirit," (and this is precisely the idea of Solomon) " to rule the spirit" is never to suffer one's self to be prejudiced by false ideas ; always to see things in their true point of view ; to regulate our hatred and our love, our desires and our inactiv- ity, exactly according to the knowledge we have ob- tained after mature deliberation, that objects are worthy of our esteem, or deserve our aversion, that they are worth obtaining, or proper to be neglected. But, as this manner of speaking, '' to rule the spir- it," supposes exercise, pains, labours, and resistance, we ought not to confine ourselves to the general idea which we have given. We consider man in three points of light; in regard to bis natural dispo- sitions ; in regard to the objects that surround him ^ and in regard to the habits which he hath contracted. ; 1. Consider the natural dispositions of man. Man, as soon as he is in the world, finds himself the slave of his .heart, instead of being master of it. I mean, that instead of a natural facility to admit only what is true, and to love only what is amiable, he feels I kpow; not what interior power, which indisposes him ^ CSiristiah Heroism. ,323 to truth and virtue, and conciliates iiim to vice and falsehood. ' ^ ". I am not going to agitate the famous question of free-will, nor to enter the lists with those, who are noted in the church for the heresy of denying the doctrine of human depravity; nor will I repeat aU the arguments good and bad, which are alleged against it. If there be a subject, in which we ought to have no implicit faith, either in those who deny, or in those who affirm ; if there be a subject, in the discussion of which they who embrace the side erf error advance truth, and they who -embrace the side of truth advance falsehoods, this is certainly the sub- ject. But we will not litigate this doctrine. We will allege here only one proof of our natural de- pravity, that shall be taken from experience, and, for evidence of this fatal truth, we refer each of vou to his own feelings. Is virtue to be pi'actised ? Who does not feel, as €iOon as he is capable of observing, an inward power of resistance ? By virtm here, I understand an uni- versal disposition of an intelligent soul to devote itself to order, and to regulate its conduct as order requires. Order demands that when I suffer, I should submit myself to the mighty hand of God, which af* flicts me. When I am in prosperity, order requires me to acknowledge the bounty of my benefactor, if I possess talents superiorto those of my neighbour^ order requires me to use them for the glory of hirq» from whom I received them. If I am obliged to acknowledge that my neighbour hath a richer en- dowment than I, order requires me to acquiesce with ubiDission, and to acknowledge with humility this \ S24k Qiristidh B^dUm. difference of endowment ; should I Feroli with bso^ lence, or dispute through jealousy or self-love, I ibould act disorderly. What I affirm of virtue, that it is a general dis- position, (hat I affirm also in regard to an indis-^ position to sin. To avoid vice is to desist alike from every thing contrary to order, from slander and an- ger, from indolence and voluptuousness, and so on. He who forms such ideas of tlie obligations of men, will have too many reasons to acknowledge, by bis own inward feelings and experience, that we bring into the world with us propensities hostile and fatal to such obligations. Some of these are in the jbody ; others in the mind. Some are in the body. Who is there that jfinds in Ills senses that suppleness and readiness of compli- ance with a volition, which is itself directed by laws of order? Who docs not feel his constitution rebel against virtue ? I am not speaking now of such men as brutally give themselves up to their senses, who consult no other laws than the revolutions of their own minds, and who, having abandoned for many years the government of their souls to the liumours of ti.eir bodies, have lost all dominion over their senses. I speak of such as have the most sincere desire to hear and obey the laws of order. How often does a tender and charitable soul find in a body subject to violence and anger obslacles against the exercise of its charity and tenderness ? How often does a soul, penetrated witli respect for the laws of purity, find in a body rebellious against this viitue, terrible obstaclest, to which it is in a marmer fonslraiped to yield ? C^fistmn B^aism. 3^ Disorder is not only in the body ; the said is in' the same condition. Consult yourselves in regard to such virtues and vices as are, so to speak, alto« gether spiritual, and have no relation, or a very dis- tant one, to matter, and you will find you brought into the world an indisposition to some of these vir- tues, and an inclination to the opposite vices. For example, avarice is one of these spiritual vices, having only a very distant relation to matter. I do not mean that avarice does not incline us towards sensible objects, I only say, that it is a passion less seated in the material than in the spiritual part of man; it rises rather out of reflections of the mind, than out of motions of the body. Yet how many people are born sordid; people always inclined to amass money, and to whom the bare thought of giving, or parting with any thing, gives pain ; people who prove, by the very manner in which they exercise the laws of generosity, that they are naturally inclined to violate them ; people who never give except by constraint, who tear away, as it were, what they bestow on the necessities of the poor; and who never cut ofi' those dear parts of themselves without taking the most affectionate leave of them ? JEnvy and jealousy are dispositions of the kind which we call spiritual. They have their seat in the soul. There are many persons who acknowledge the injustice and base- ness of these vices, and who hate them, and who nevertheless are not sufficient masters of themselves to prevent the dominion of them, at least to prevent a repetition of them, and not to find sometimes their own misery in the prosperity of other persons. 326 iJhrisHan Heroism. As we feel in our constitution obstacles to virtue, and propensities to vice, so we perceive also inclina- tions to error, and obstacles to truth. These things are closely connected; for if we find within us natu- ral obstacles to virtue, we find for that very reason natural obstacles to truth ; and if we be born with propensities to vice, we are born on that very account prone to error. Strictly speaking, all ideas of vic6 may be referred to one, that is to error. Every vice, every irregular passion openly or tacitly implies a falsehood. Every vice, every irregular passion in- cludes this error, that a man who gratifies his passion, 13 happier than he who restrains and moderates it. Now every man judging in this manner, whether he do so openly or covertly, takes the side of error. If we be then naturally inclined to some vices we are naturally inclined to some errors, I mean, to admit that false principle on which tl¥e irregular passion establishelh the vice it would commit, the desire of ^ gratification. An impassionate man is not free to discern truth from falsehood, at least he cannot with- out extreme constraint discern the one from the oth- er. He is inclined to fix his mind on whatever fav- ours \m passion, changes its nature and disguises vice in the habit of virtue; and, to say all in one word, ke is impelled to fix his mind on whatever makes truth appear false, and falsehood true. 5 I conclude, the disposition of mind of which Solo- mon speaks, and which he describes by ruling the spirit, supposes labour, constraint, and exercise. A man who would acquire this nobledispositionof mind, a man who would n^i? his spirily must in some sort Christian Heroisnu "327 re-create himself; he finds himself at once, if I may- be allowed to say so, at war with nature ; his body must be formed anew ; his humours and his spirits must be turned into another channel ; violence must be done to all the powers of his soul. 2. Having considered man in regard to his natu- ral dispositions, observe him secondly in regard to surrounding objects. Here you will obtain a second exposition of Solomon's words, He that ruleth his spirit ; you will have a second class of evidences of that exercise, labour, and constraint, which true he^ roism supposes. Society is composed of many ene- mies, who seem to be taking pains to increase those €lifRculties which our natural dispositions oppose against truth and virtue. Ex!amine the members of this society among whom we are appointed to live, consult their ideas, hear their conversation, weigh their reasonings, and you will find almost every where false judgments, en'ors, mistakes, and prejudices; prejudices of birth, takeEt from our parents, the nurses who suckled us, the peo- ple who made the habits in which we were wrapped in our cradles; prejudices of education, taken from the masters to whom the care of our earlier days was committed, from some false ideas which they had imbibed in their youth, and from other illusions which they had created themselves ; prejudices of country, taken fi-om the genius of the people among whom we have lived, and, so to speak, from the ve- ry air we have breathed ; prejudices of religion, tak- en from our catechists, from the divines we have con- suited, from the pastors by whom we have been di- 928 Christian Heroism. fwledy from (he sect we have embraced ; pmjudicei? of friendship, taken from (he connections we have bad, and the company we have kept; prejudices, of trade and profession, taken from the mechanical arts we have followed, or the abstract sciences we have studied ; prejudices of fortune, taken from the condition of life in which we have been, either among the noble or the poor. This is only a small part of the channels by which en-or is conveyed to us. What efforts umst a man make, what pains must he take with himself to preserve himself from contagion, to hold his soul perpetually in equili- brium, to keep all the gates of error shut, and inces- santly to maintain, amidst so many prejudices, that freedom of judgment which weighs argument against objection, objection against argument, which delib- erately examines all that can be advanced in favour of a proposition, and all that can be said against it ; which considers an object in every point of view, and which makes us determine only as we are con- strained by the irresistible authority, and by the soft violence of truth, demonstration, and evidence ? As the men who surround us fascinate us bv their errors, so they decoy us into vice by their example. In all places, and in all ages, virtue had fewer parti- zans than vice ; in all ages and in all places, the friends ()f virtue were so few in comparison of the partizans of vice, that the saints complained, that the earth was not inhabited by men of the first kind, and that the whole world was occupied by the latter, fke godly wan ceaseih ; the faithful fail from among the children of mm. The Lord looked down from hear ChrisHan Beraiim, 329 ven upon the children of men, to see if there were etn^ that did understand^ and seek Chd. Thof are all gmne asidej they are altogether become JUthy ; there is nmrn that doeth good^ no not one, Psal. xii 1. and xm 2r ^ An exaggeration of the prophet, I grants but asn ex- aggeration for which the uniyersality of human de^ pravity hath given too much occasion. Cast your eyes attentively on society, you will be, as our prophet was, astonished at the great number of the partizans of vice ; you will be troubled, as he was^ to distinguish in the crowd any friends of virtue^ and you will find yourself inclined to say, as be said^ there is none that doeth good, no not one. But how difficult is it to resist example, and to rvk the spirit among such a number of tyrants^ who aiiQ' only to enslave it! In order to resist example^ we- must incessantly oppose those natural inclinatiou which urge us to imitation. To resist example, We; must not suffer ourselves to be dazzled either with the number or the splendour of such as have placed vice on a throne. To resist example, we must brave persecution, and all the inconveniences to which worldly people never fail to expose them who refuse to follow them down the precipice. To resist ex^ ample, we must love virtue for virtue's sake* To resist example, we must transport ourselves intoNin-. other world, Jmagine ourselves among those holy societies who surround the throne of a holy God, who make bis excellencies thecontinual matter of their adoration and homage, ^nd vbo fly at the first signal of his band, the first breath of his mouth. What a work, what a difiicult work for you, poor VOL. IV. 42 339 ChristUtti Heraism. mortal, whose eyes are always turned toward the earth, and whom your own involuntary and insur- mountable weight incessantly carries downward ! .' 3. Finally, we must acknowledge what labor, pains, aqd resistance the dbposition, of which Solomon speaks^ requires, if we consider man in regard to ihekaJkits^ which he hath contracted. As soon as we enter into ihe world, we find ourselves impelled by our natural propensities, stunned with the din of our passions, and, as I just now said, seduced by ^e errors, and earned away by the examples of our pDinpanions. Seldom in the fii-st years of Iif(^ do we flurmomit that natural bias, and that power of ex- aJQDple, which impel us to falsehood and sin. Most men have done more acts of vice than of virtue, con- sequently, in the course of a certain number of years we contribute by otir way of living to join to the de- pravity of nature, that which comes from exercise and habit. A man, who would rule his spirit^ is tliea required to eradicate the habits, which have taken pos^eiision of him. What a task ! What a task/when we endeavor to prevent the return of ideas, which for many years our minds have revolved ! What a task, to defend one's self from a passion which knows all the avenues of the mind, ^ and how to facilitate access by means of the body ! What a task, to turn away from the flatter- ing images, and seducing solicitations of concupis- cence long accustomed to gratification ! What a task, when we are obliged to make the greatest ef- forts in the weakest part of life, and to subdue an enemy, whom we have been always used to consi- Chri^ian Heroism. 331 4er as unconquerable, and whom we never dimt attack, when he had no other arms than whatwfei chose to give him, and enjoyed no oth^ advantages than such as we thought proper to allow ! Sudt isdbor, such pains and constraint must he experiential who acquires the art of mli'ii^ his spirit ! Ncfw then, as we have explained this disposition of raind^ let us assign the place, which is due to him wb(> hath it • Having given an idea of real heroism, we must display the grandeur of it, and prove the pro* position in my text, ^ he that ruleth his spirit, isliet- ter Ihan he that taketh a city/' IL For this purpose, it is not necessary to observe, that, by him that taJceih a city, Solomon does ncit mean a man who, from principles of virtue, to defend his country and religion, hazards his life and liberty in a just war ; in this view, he that taketh a city, and he that ruleth his spirit, is one and the same num. Solomon intends conqueroi-s, who live, if I may ex- press myself so, upon victories and conquests ; he intends heroes, such as the world considers them. Neither is it necessary precisely to fix the bounds of this general expression, is better. ** He that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city." The sense is easily understood ; in general, it signifies that he that rideth Ids spirit, discovers more fortitude* more magnanimity, and more courage ; Ibatheiiath more just ideas of glory, and is more worthy of es- teem and praise, than they who are called in the woild conquerors and heroes. We will prove thb proposition, by comparing the hero of the world with the christian Iiero ; and we 38ffi UiHstum Heroism. tirili confine the cooiparison to four artieles : First» 4be motives which animate them ; secondly, the «:q^loH8 they perform ; thirdly, the enemies they attack ; and lastly, the rewards they obtain. He UuU taketh a city, is animated with motives mean and worldly, which degrade an intelligent soul, even while they seem to elevate it to a pinnacle of grand- eur and glory ; but he that rvJeth his spirit^ is animated by motives grand, noble, and sublime, every way suited to the excellence of our nature. He that ruUth his spirit, is capable of all the exploits of Aim that taketh a city ; but he that taketh a city, is not capable of the exploits of him thai rukth his jspirit. He that taketh a city, attacks an exterior €nemy, to whom he hath no attachment ; but he that rukth his spirity attacks an enemy who is dear to bim, and hath the greatness of soul to turn his arms against himself* In fine, he that taketh a city, is crowned only by idiots, who have no just notions of giandeur and heroism ; but lie that ndeth his spirit, will be crowned with the hands of the only just iippraiser and dispenser of glory. These are four titles of superiority which the christian hero hath overihe false hero, four sources of proofs to establish the proposition in our text, '' he that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city/' 1. Let us consider the motives which animate a conqueror that taketh a cityy and the motives which animate a man that obtains rule over his spirit; ihe motives of ihe true hero, with the motives of Jthe false hero. What are the motives of a false ^bew ? What spirit jaqimales him, when he under- Cftmftim Heroism. S33 takes to conquer a city ? This is one of the ques- tions which sinful passions have most obscured Truth is disguised in epistles dedicatory, and in profane eulogiums, yea, sometimes in religious dis* courses. The msyesty of a victorious general, the glory of a conqueror, the pompous titles of victor, arbiter of peace, arbiter of war, have so dazzled us, and in some sort so perverted the powers of our soul, that we cannot form just notions of this subject. Hear pure nature, formerly speak* ing by the mouth of a nation, who were the more wise for not being civilized by the injustice of our laws and customs. I speak of the ancient Scythians. The most famous taker of cities came to their cabins and caverns. He had already subdued his fellow* citizens and neighbours. Already Thebes and Athens, Thrace and Thessaly, had submitted to his arms. Already, Greece being too small a sphere of action for him, he had penetrated even into Persia, passed the famous Phrygian river, where he slew six hundred thousand men, reduced Caria and Judea, made war witli Darius and conquered him, perform- ed exploits more than human, and, in spite of na- ture, besieged and took Tyre, the most famous siege recorded in ancient history, subjugated the Mardi and Bactrians, attained the mountains Caucasus and Oxus, and, in a word, conquered more countries, and enslaved more people, than we can describe, or even mention within the limits allotted to this exer- cise. This man arrives in Scythia. The Scythians sent deputies to him, who thus addressed him : '' Had the gods given you a body proportioned to your am* 334 Christian Heroism, bition, the i^bole universe would have been too lit- tle for you : with one hand you wiH have touched tiie east, and with the other the west, and, not con- tent with this, you would have followed the sun, and have seen where he hides himself. Whatever you ^e, you are aspiring at what you can never obtain. From Europe you run into Asia, and from Asia back you run again into Europe ; and, having ei>- elaved all mankind, you attack rivers, and forests, 3Ik1 wild beasts. What have you to do wi(h us ? We have never set foot in your country. May not a.people living in a deseit be allowed to be ignorant of who you ai'e, and whence you come? You boast of having exterminated robbers, and you yourself are the greatest robber in the world. You have pil- laged and plundered all nations, and now you come to rob us of our cattle. It is in vain to fill your bands, for you are always in search of fresh prey. Of what use are your boundless riches, except to iiTitate your eternal thirst ? You are the first man who, ever experienced such extreme want in the midst e>f such abundance. All you have serves only to iuake you desire with more fury what you have not. If you be a god, do good to mankind ; but if you be only an insignificant mortal, think of what you are, and remember that it is a great folly to occupy things which make us forget ourselves."'^' These are the motives which animate the heroes of the world J these are the sentiments which are disguised under the fine names of glory, valour, gi'eatness of soul^ heroism. An insatiable avidity of riches, an ^ Qointus Curihis, lib. vil. cap. 8. Christian Heroism. 335 invincible pride, a boundless ambition, a total for- getful ness of ^hat isy what ought to be, and what must be hereafter. The motives of him, who endeavours to render himself master of his own heart, are love of order, desire of freedom from the slavery of the passions, a noble firmness of soul, which admits only what, appears true, and loves only what appears lovely, after sober and serious discussion. In this first view, then, the advantage is wholly in favor of fttm, that ruUth his spirit. He that rukth his spirit^ is better: than he that taketh a city. 2. Compare, in the second place, the exploits 9f him that rvleth his spirit, with the exploits of Atui^. that taketh a city. He, who is capable of ruling his spirity is capable of ail that is great and noble in Aim, that taketh a city : but Ae, that taketh a city, is not capable of all that is great and magnanimous in* Aiift, that rukth his spirit. I will explain myself. What is there great and magnanimous in a hero^ that taketh a city ? Patience to endure fatigue, to surmount difficulties, to suffer contradiction ; intre- pidity in the most frightful dangers; presence of mind in the most violent and painful exercises; un- shaken firmness in sight of a near and terrible disso- lution. These are dispositions of mind, I grant, which seem to elevate man above humanity ; but a christian hero is capable of all this, I speak sincere- ly, and without a figure. A man, who hath obtain- ed a religious freedom of mind, who always pre* serves this liberty, who always weighs good and evil, who believes only what is true, and does only what. 336 Christian Heroism. h right ; who hath always his eye upon his duty, or u the psalmist expresseth it, who ^ sets the Lord al- ways before him/' such a man is capable, literally capable, of all you admire in a worldly hero. No difficulty discourages him, no contradiction discon- certs him, no fiitigue stops him, no dangers affright him, no pain but he can bear, no appearance of death shocks him into paleness, and fear, and flighty Our women and children, our confessors and mar- tyrs have literally performed greater exploits of for- titude, patience, courage, and constancy, in con- vents, prisons, and dungeons, at stakes and on scaf- folds, than Alexanders and Caesars in all their lives. And where is the hero of tbb world, who hath per- formed so many actions of courage and magnanimity in sieges and battles, as our confessors have for thir- ty years on board the gallies ? The former were sup* ported by the presence of thousands of witnesses ; the latter bad no spectators but God and their own consciences. The christian hero is capable then of all that is great in the hero of the world. But the worldly hero is incapable of performing such ex- ploits as the christian hero performs ; and he knows perfectly that his heroism doth not conduct him so fer in the path of glory. Try the strength of a worldly hero. Set him to contend with a passion. You will soon find this man, invincible before, sub- dued into slavery and shame. He who was firm and fearless in sight of fire and fiame, at the sound of warlike instruments, becomes feeble, mean, and enervated by a seducing and enchanting object. Sampson defeats the Philistines ; but Dalilah sub* Christian Heroism* 33? dues Sampaoti. Sampison cairies away the gates of Gaza : but Sampson sinks under the weight of Mb own sensuality. Hercules seeks highway robbers to combat, and monsters to subdue; but be cannot re- sist impurity. We find him on monuments of anti- quity carrying an in&nt on his shoulders, an enS^ blem of voluptuousness, stooping under that unwor- thy burden, and letting his club fall from his hand There is therefore no declamation, no hyperbole in our proposition; the christian hero is capable of performing all the great actions performed by the hero of the world ; but the hero of the world Is ii^ capable of performing such noble actions as the christian hero performs ; and in this respect, '^ he that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city." 3. Compare Am, that taketh a city^ with him thai rtdeth his spirit y in regard to the enemies ^ whom they attack, and you will find in the latter a third title of superiority over the former. He that taketh a dtjf^ attacks an exterior enemy, who is a stranger!^ and of- ten odious to him. The ambition, that fills his soul« leaves no room for compassion and pity ; and, pro- vided he can but obtain his end, no matter to him though the way be strewed with the dying and the dead, to obtain that, he travels over mountains of heads, and arms, and carcases. The tumultuous pad* sions, which tyrannize over him, stifle the voice of nature, and deafen him to the cries of a thousand miserable wretches sacrificed to his fame. , The enemy, whom the christian conlbats, is his own heart : for he is required to turn hisaams against TOL. IV. 43 338 (Mnsiian Heroism. hiinselfl He must suspend all sentiments of self^ loTe ; he must become bis own executioner, and, to lise the ideas and expressions of Jesus Christ, he nnist actually deny himself. Jesus Christ well knew mankind. He did not preach like some preaching novices, who, in order to incline ttieir hearers to subdue their passions, propose the work to them as free from diflficulty. Jesus Christ did not disguise the difficulties which the man must Undergo who puts on the spirit of Christianity ; and I do not know whether we meet T^ith any ex- pression in the writings of pagan poets or philosophers more natural, and at the same time more emphatical than this ; ^' If any man will come after me, let him deny himself," Matt. xvi. 24. Not that this is literally practicable, not that niaii can put off* himself, not that religion requires us to sacrifice to it what makes the essence and happiness of our nature ; on the contrary, strictly speaking, it is sin which makes us put off* or deny what is great and noble in our essence; it is sin which requires us to sacrifice our true happiness to it. If .Tesus Christ expresses himself in this manner, it is because when man is possessed with a passion, it is incorporated, as it were, with himself; it seems to him essential to his felicity ; every thing troubles, and every thing puts him on the rack, when he cannot gratify it; without gratifying his passion, his food hath no taste, flowers DO smell, pleasures no point, the sun is dark, society disagreeable, life itself hath no charms. To attack a reigning passion is to deny self; and here is the patience eflhe saints ; this is the enemy whom the christian at* christian Heroism. 399 tacks; this is the war which he wageth. How trem- ulous and weak is the hand when it toucheth a sword to be plunged into one's own bosom! Love of orders truth, and virtue support a christian hero in this al- most desperate undertaking. 4. In fine, Compare him that rukth his spirity with him that taketh a dtj/j in regard to the acciamatians with which they are accompanied, and the crorvm prepared for them« Who are the authors of those acclamations with which the air resounds the praise of worldly heroes? They are courtiers, poets, pane- gyrists. But what ! are people of this order the oi|- )y persons who entertain just notions of glory ? and if they be, are they generous enough to speak out ? How can a soul wholly devoted to the will and ca- price of a conqueror; how can a venal creature, who makes a market of eulogiums and praises, which be sells to the highest bidder ; how can a brutal soldiery determine what is worthy of praise or blame? Is it for such people to distribute prizes of glory, and to assign heroes then* rank? To be exalted by peo- ple of this sort is a shame ; to be crowned by their hands an infamy. Elevate, elevate thy meditation, christian soul, rise into the Majesty of the Great Supreme. Think of that sublime intelligence, who unites in his essence every tiling noble and sublime. Contemplate God, surrounded with angels and archangels, cherubim and seraplum. Hear the concerts which happy spirits perform to his glory. Hear them, penetrated, rav- ished, charmed, with the divine beauties, crying nigbi ^nd day, *' Holy^ holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the SAt Christian whole earth is full of bis glory. Blessing and giory^ trisdom and thanksgiving, honour, and power, and iDight be unto our God for ever and ever. Great and naarvellous are thy works. Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of sainls. Who flhall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ?** This Being so perfect, this Being so worthily prais- ed, this Being so worthy of everlasting praise, this is be who will pronounce upon^true glory ; this, is he who will compose the eulogium of all who aspire at it ; this is he who will one day praise in the face of heaven and earth all those who shall have made the noble conquests which we have been describing. Imagination sinks under the weight of this subject, and this object is too bright for eyes like ours ; but the nature of things doth not depend on our faculty of seeing them. As God calls us to combats more than human, so he sees fit to support us by a pros- pect of more than human rewards. Yes, it is the supreme Being, it is be, who will one day distribute the praises which are due to such as have triumphed over themselves. What a spectacle! what a pros- pect ! Yes, christian champion, after thou hast re- sisted flesh and blood, after thou hast been treated as a fool by mankind, after thou hast run the race of tribulation, after thou liast made thy life one per- petual martyrdom, thou shalt be called forth in the presence of men and angels; the master of the world shall se|)arate thee from the crowd ; there he will address to thee this language, f f W/ done, good and faithfvl servant ; there he will accomplish the proni- j^ which he this day makes to all who fight under Chrisliasfi Heroism. 341 his standard, he that avercometh shall sit dawn in my throne. Ah ! glory of worldly heroes, profane ^u- coniiums, fastidious inscriptions, proud trophii^ biiUiant, but corruptible diadems ! what are you in comparison with the acclamations which await the christian hero^ and the crowns which God the re^ warder prepares for him ? And you, mean and timid souls, who pei^aps ad- mire these triumphs, but who have not the ambition to strive to obtain them ; you soft and indolent spirits, who, without reluctance, give up all pretensions to the immortal crowns which God prepares for hero- ism, provided he require no account of your indo- lence and effeminacy, . and suffer you, like brute beasts, to follow the first instincts of your nature ; undeceive yourselves. I said, at the beginning, you are all called to heroism ; there is no mid-way in re* ligion ; you must be covered with shame and infamy, along with the base and timid, or crowned with glo- ry, in company with heroes. The duty of an in- telligent soul is to adhere to truth, and to follow virtue; we bring into the world with us obstacles to both ; our duty is to surmount them-; without this we betray our trust ; we do not answer the end of our creation ; we are guilty, and we shall be pun- ished for not endeavouring to obtain the great end for which we were created. Let this be the great principle of our divinity and morality. Let us invariably retain it. Let us not lose ourselves in discussions and researches into the origin of evil, and into the permission of the entrance of sin into the -world. Let us not bury ourselves OkrisUan Hermsm. alive in speculations and labyrinths ; let us not plunge into abysses, from which no pains can disengage us,. Let us fear an ocean full of rocks, and let an idea of the shipwrecks, which so many rash people have nmde, stop us on the shore. Let us consider these questions, less with a view to discover the perfec- tions of the Creator, in the thick darkness under which he hath thought proper to conceal them, than in that of learning the obligations of a creature. I do not mean to decry those great geniusses, who have treated of this profound subject. Their works do honour to the human mind. They are eternal monuments to the glory of a reason, which knows how to collect its force, and to fix itself on a single object ; but, it is always certain, that we cannot ar- rive at clear truth on this subject, except by means of thousands of distinctions and abstractions, which most of us cannot make. The subject is so delicate and refined, that most eyes are incapable of seeing it, and it is placed on an eminence so steep and in- accessible, that few geniusses can attain it. Let us religiously abide by our principle. The duty of an intelligent soul is to adhere to truth, and to practise virtue. We are born with a disinclina- tion to both. Our duty is to get rid of this ; and, without doing so, we neglect the obligation of an in- telligent soul ; we do not answer the end for which we were intended ; we are guilty, and we shall be punished for not having answered the end of our creation. Let us consider ourselves as soldiers placed round a besieged city, and having such or such an enemy ChrisUmi Htroimf, 343 to fight, such or such a post to force. You, you are naturally subject to violence and anger. It is sad to find, in on^s own constitution, an opposition to virtues so lovely as those of submission, charity, sweetness, and patience. Groan under this evil ; but do not despair ; when you are judged, less attention will be paid to your natural indisposition to these virtues, than to the iefibrts which you made to get rid of it. To this point direct all your attention, all your strength, and all your courage. Say t<> yourself, this is the post which my general intends I should force ; this is the enemy I am to fight with. And be you fully convinced, that one of the pririr cipal views which God hath in preserving your life, is, that you should render yourself master of this passion. You, you are naturally disposed to be proud. The moment you leave your mind ' to its natural bias, it turns to such objects as seem the most fit to give you high ideas of yourself, to your penetration, your memory, your imagination, and even to exterior advantages, which vanity generally incorporates with the person who enjoys them. It is melancholy to find within yourself any seeds of an inclination, which so ill agree with creatures vile and miserable as men. Lament this misfortune, but do not despair ; to this side turn all your attention and all yoi^r courage and strength. Say to yourself, this is the post which nrty general wouM have me force ; this is the enemy whom he hath appointed me to oppose^ And be fully convinced, that one of the principal views of God in continuing you in this 314 Chrisiiaia HeroisitL world is, that you may resist this passipn, and make yourself master of it. Let us, all together, my brethren, endeavour to rule our own spirits. Let us not be dismayed at the greatness of the work, because greater is he that is in uSy than he that is in the world. Grace comes to the aid of nature. Prayer acquires strength by ex- ercise. The passions, after having been tyrant^ be- come slaves in their turn. The daiiger and pain of battle vanish, when the eye gets sight of conquest How inconceivably beautiful is victory then ! God grant we may obtain it ! To him be honour and glor ry for ever. Amen, SERMON XI. Christian Casuistry 4 Proverbs ir. 26. Ponder (he path of thy feet^ md all thy ways shall be established. Ml he sentence whicb we have fiow read, includes a subject of immense magnitude^ inore proper to fill a volume, than to be comprised in a single sermon; however, we propose to express the substance of it in this one discourse. When we shall have explained the subject, we will put it to proof; I mean, we will apply it to some religious articles, leaving to your piety the care of applying it to a great number, and of deriving from the general application this conse- quence, if we ponder the paths of ourjeety all our ways will he established. I suppose, first, you affix just ideas to this meta- phorical expression, ponder the path of thyjeeU It is one of those singular figures of speech, which agrees better with the genius of the sacred language than with tha#§yf ours. Remark this once for all. Ther^ i&pne am^^ many objections made by the enemies of our religion, which Excels in its kind ; I mean to say, itr deserves to stand first in a list of the most extrav- agant sophisms : this is, that th^re is no reason for TOT.. TV, 44 346 Christum Casuistrtf. making a diflerence between the genius of ttie He* brew language and the idiona of other languages. It would seem, by this objection, that a book not ori- ginally written in the idiom of the language of scep- ticism cannot be divinely inspired. On this absurd principle, the scripture could not be written in- any language; for if a Greek had a right to object slgainst inspiration on this account; an Arabian, and a Persian, and all other people have the same. Who doth not perceive at onde, that ttie inspired writers, delivering their messages at first to the Jews, to whom were committed the oracles of God, Rom. ili. 2. spoke ;^perly according to- the idiom of their language ? They ran no risk of being misunderstood by other nations^ whom a desire of being saved should incline to study the language for the sake of the wisdom' taught in it. How extravagant soever this objection is, so ex- travagant that no infidel will openly avow it, yet it is adopted, and applied in athousand instances. The book of Canticles is full of figures opposite to the genius of our western languages; it is therefore no part of the sacred canon. It would be easy to pro- duce other examples. Let a modern purist, who af- fects neatness and accuracy of style, and gives lec- tures on pronunciation, condemn this manner of speaking, ponder the path of thy feel; with all" my heart. The inspired authors had no less reasoa to make use of it, nor the interpreters to aflfirm, that it is an eastern expression, which signifies to take no step without first deliberately examining it. The metaphor of the text being thus reduced to truth. Uhristian Casuistry. ^47 anotfacgr ^oubt rises concerning the subject to which it is applied, and this requires a second elucidation. The term sUp is usually restrained in our language to actions of life, and never signifies a mode of thinly ing; but the Hebrew language gives this term a wi- der extent, and it includes all these ideas. One ex- ample shall suffice. My steps had well nigh slipped^ Psal. Ixxiii. 2. that is to say, 1 was very near taking a false step: and what was this step? It was judging that the wicked were happier in Xhe practice of licen- tiousness, than the righteous in obeying the laws of truth and virtue. Solomon, in the words of my text, particularly intends to regulate our actions ; and in order to this he intends to regulate the principles of our minds, and the affections of our hearts. Ponder the path of thy feety and all thy ways shall be estdb* lishedy for so I render the words. Examine your steps deliberately before you lake them, and you will only take wise steps : if you would judge right- ly of objects, avoid hasty judging: before you fix your affection on ^n object, examine whether it be worthy of your esteem, and then you will love -noth- ing but what is lovely. By thus following the ideas of the wise man we will assort our reflections with 4he actions of your lives, and they will regard also, sometimes, the emotions of your hearts, and the ope- rations of your minds. We must beg leave to add a third elucidation. The maxim in the text is not always practicable. I mean, there are some doctrines, and some cases of Then the p^ all taken up with the duties of that important minisfiy which God hath committed to him, would exercise it only to comfort the aflflicf ed, to visit the sick, to r^ press vice^to adva,nce the J|tingdom of f bat Jesitir ^hose minister he hath the honour to be, ahdpot vol,. IV. 45 354 Christian Casuistry. pfiiciously to intrude into families to direct then}, to tyrannize over consciences, tp make a parade of gifts, and to keep alive a spirit of party. But, not to carry these reflections any further, you say, society could not i^ubsist, sciences would Ian* guisb, and arts decay, if men thought much about dying. Very well. I agree. But I ask, is this the motive which animates you when you turn away your eyes from this object? Is it fear lest the arts should decay, sciences languish, society disperse ? Is it this fear which keeps you from thinking of death ? Is it not rather because an idea of Wmking of terrors disconcerts the whole system of your conscieneey. stupified by a long habit of sin; because it urges^ you to restore that accursed acquisition, which is the fund that supports your pageantry and pride:, because it requires you to renounce that criminal intrigue, which makes the conversation of all compa- nies, and gives just offence to all good men ? My brethren, would you always take right steps? Never take one without first examining the motive which engages you to take it. Let the glory of God be the great end of all our actions ; whether we eat or drinky or whatsoever we do, let us do all to the glo- ry of God, 1 Cor. x. 31. A motive so noble and so worthy of that holy calling with which God hath honoured us, will sanctify all our steps, will give worth to our virtues, and will raise those into vir- tuous actions, which seem to have the legist connec- tion with virtue. A bustling trade, a sprightly con- versation, a well matched union, a sober recreation, a domestic amusemenf, all become virtues in a man Christian Casuistry. 395 animated with the glory of God ; on the contrary, virtue itself, the most ardent zeal for truth, the most generous charities, the most fervent prayers, know- ledge the most profound, and sacrifices the least suspicious, become vices in a man not animated with this motive. II. Let us ponder our steps in regard to the aV- cumstances which accompany them. An action, good or innocent in itself, may become criminal in certain circumstances. This maxim is a clue to many cases of conscience in which we choose to blind ourselves; We obstinately consider our actions in a certain ab- irtracted light, never realized, and we do not attend *o circumstances which change the nature of the ac- tion. We think we strike a casuist dumb, when we ask him, what is there criminal in the action you re- prove ? Hear the morality of the inspired writers. It is allowable to attach ourselves to a pious prince, and to push for port. Yet when Barzillai had arriv- ed at a certain age, he thought it his duty to flefe from court, and to quit his prince, and he said to David who invited him to court, " I am this day four-^ score years old, and can I discern between good and evil? Can thy servant taste what I eat, or what I drink? Can I hear any more the voice of singing men, and singing women? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and of my mother," 2 Sam. xix. 35, 37. It is allowable to erect houses proportional to our fortunes and rank. Yet the buildings of the Israel- ites drew upon them the most mortifying censures, s^nd the most rigorous chastisements, after their 306 Christian Qimmbrs. turn from captivity. Tbis was bectiu^, while their {Hinds were all employed about their own edifices, they took po thought about rebuilding the temple. ^ |s it time for ypu,' - jiaid the prophet Haggai^ ^ Is it time for you, O ye, to dwell in your ceiled bouses, and this house lie waste ?" chap. i. 4. It is allowable, sometimes, to join in good con»pa- py, and to taste the pleasures of the table aqd socie- ty ; yet Isaiah reproached the Jews of his time in the most cutting manner, for giving themselves up to these pleasures, at a time when recent crimes, and approaching calamities should have engaged them to licts of repentance. ^^ In that day did the Lord God of hosts call to weeping, and to mourning, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth ; and behold, joy and gladness, slaying oxen^ and killing sheep, eating flesh, and drinking wine. And it was reveal- ed in mine ears by the Lord of hosts ; surely this in- iquity shall not be purged from you till ye die, saith the Lord God of hosts," Isa. xxii. 12, &c. It. is allowable to eat any thing, witiiout regard to the Levitical law. Yet St. Paul declares, " If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth," 1 Cor. viii. 13. How many circumstances of this kind might I add? X^et us retain what we have heard, and let us make t^se the basis of a few maxims. '^he case of scandal is a circumstance which makes a lawful action criminal^ I infer this from the ex- ample of St, Paul just now mentioned. What is f^andal ? Of many definitio|;i3 I confine myself to 0P«» CkrisHm Ctuuliky. ZffI A fleandalous or ofieniuve action is that Whidi mufit naturally make a spectator of it ddmmiit a fauH. By this touchstone examine some action^ trbidh you thick allowable, because you connid^ them in them* selves, and you will soon perceive that you ought to abstain from them. By this rule, it id not a question only, when it is agitated as a case of conscience. Is gaming criminal or innocent ? Th6 question is not only, what gaming is to you^ who can afford to play without injuring your family or fortune; the ques- tion is, whether you ought to engage another to play with you, who will ruin his. When a case of con-^ science k made of this question — Can I, \^itboul wounding my innocence, allow myself certain free- doms in conversation? The question is not only whether you can permit yourself to do so without defiling your innocence, but whether you can do so without wounding the innocence of your neighbour, who will infer from the liberties you take, that you have no regard to modesty, and who perhaps may avail himself of the license you give him. : Another circumstance, which makes a lawful ac-* tion criminal, is taken from the passage of Isaiah just now mentioned. I fear suppressing a sense of pre* sent sins and of approaching calamities. I wid}, when we have had the weakness to commit such isins as suspend the communion of a soul with its Grod, I wish we had the wisdom to lay aside for some time, not only criminal, but even lawful pleasures. I wish, instead of going kito company, even t\ie most regular, we had the wisdom to retire. I wisli, in- stead^f relishing then the inost lawful recreations, 356 Christian Casuistry. me bad the .wisdom to mourn for om: offendiog a God, whose law ought to be extremely respected by u& To take the opposite course then, to allow one's self pleasure, innocent indeed in happier times, is to discover very little sense, of that God whose com- mands we have just now violated; it is to discover that we have very little regard for our salvation, at a time when we have so many just causes of doubt- ing whether our hope to be saved be well grounded. The afflicted state of the church is another cir- cumstance, which may make an innocent action criminal : So I conclude, from the passage just now quoted from Haggai. Dissipations, anwsements, festivals, ill become men, who ought to be grieved for tlie afflictions of Joseph ; or to speak more clear- ly, less still become miserable people whom the wrath of God pursues, and who,' being themselves zsjire brands hardly plucked out of the burnings are yet exposed to the flames of tribulation, one in the person of his father, another in those of his chil- dren, and all in a million of their brelliren. Age, again, is another circumstance converting an innocent to a criminal action. Tliis I conclude from the example of Barzillai. Let a young man, just en- tering into trade, be all attention and diligence to make his fortune ; he should be so: but that an old man, that a man on the biink of the grave, and who hath already attained the age which God hath mark- ed for the life of man, that such a man should be all fire and flame for the success of histrade, just as he was the first day he entered on it, that he should, so to speak, direct his last sigh toward money and the Chrisiiim Cnsuistry. 359 increase of bis trade, is the shame of human nature; it is a mark of reprobation^ which ought to alarrh all that bear it. Let a young ma(n in the heat of his blood, a youth yet a novice in the world, and who may promise himself, with some appearance of truth, to live a few years in the world, sometimes lay aside that gravity, which however so well becomes men, whose eyes are fixed on the great objects of religion ; let him, I say, I forgive him ; but that an old man, whom long experience should have rendered wise, that he should be fond of pleasure, that he should make a serious affair of distinguishing himself by the elegance of his table, that he should go every day to c^rry his skeleton, wan and tottering, into company employed in the amusements of youth ; this is the ^hame of htiman nature, this is a mark of reprobation which ought to terrify all that bear it. III. Would we have all our waj^s established? Let us examine the manners that accompany them. An action good in itself, yea, more, the most es- sential duties of religion become criminal, when they are not performed with proper dispositions. One of the most essential duties of religion is to as* sist the poor ; yet this duty will become a crime, if it be performed with haughtiness, hardness, and constraint. It is not enough to assist the poor \ the duty must be done with such circumspection, hu- manity, and joy, as the apostle speaks of, when he says, God loveth a cheerful giver y 2 Cor. ix. 7. An- other most essential duty of religion is to interest one's self in the happiness of our neighbour, and if 360 Christian Casuistry. be turn aside from the path of salvation, to bring him back again. Thou shaU in any wise rdmke thy neighbour^ and not suffer sin upon him: thus God spoke by his servant Moses, Lev. six. 17. Exhort one another daily : this is a precept of St. Vau), Heb. iii. 13. To this may be added the declaration of St. James : If any of you do err from the truths and one convert him, let him know, that he which cone(}erteA the sinner from the error of his way, shaU save a soui from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins, clmp. y. 19, 20. But this duty would become a crime, were we to rebuke a neighbour with bitterness?, were the reproof more satire than exhortation, were we to assume airs of haughtiness, and discover that we intended less to censure the vices of others than to display our own imaginary excellencies. If is not enough to rebuke a neighbour; it must be done with all those charitable concomitants, which are so pro- per to make the most bitter censures palatable; it must be done with that modesty, or, may I say, with that bashfulness which proves that it is not a spirit of self-sufficiency that replroves our neighbour, but that it is because we interest ourselves in hit happiness, and are jealous of his glory. IV. Our fourth maxim is, that an action good in itself may become criminal by being extended be- yond its proper limits. It was said of a fine genius of the last age, that he never quitted a beautiful thought till he had entirely disfigured it. The ob- servation was perfectly just in regard to the author, to whom it was applied ; the impetuosity of his im- agination made him overstrain the most sensible ChrisHan Casuistry. 361 things he advanced, so that what was trulh. when ha began to propose it, becanae an error in bis mouth by the extreme to which he carried it. In like map? ner, in regard to a certain order of christians, virtitf becomes vice in their practice, because they extend it beyond proper bounds. Their holiness ought al^ ways to be restrained, and after they have been ex- horted to righteousness ^nd wisdom, it is necessary to say to them with the wise man,* Be not righteous over-mucky neither make thyself over-wisey £ccles. vij, 1 7. an idea adopted by St. Paul, Rom. xii. 3. Be not righteous over-muchy neither make thys^ over-wise in regard to the mysteries of religion. A9 people sometimes lose their lives by diving, so sinne^ times people become unbelievers by believing too much. It is not uncommon to see christians so ea- ger to elucidate the difSculties of the bookof Reve*' lationas not to perceive clearly the doctrine of evan* gelk^l morality. Be not righteous over-much, neither make thyse^ omr-wise in regard to charity. The laws of equity march before those of cbaritv; or rather the laws of charity are founded on those of equity. To neglect to support a family and to satisfy creditors, under pretence of relieving the poor, is not charity, and giving alms: but it is rapiae, robbery, and iniquity. Be not righteoms over-much, luUher make thyself ov* er-wise in regard to closet devotion. So to give one's self up to the devotion of the closet as \A lose sight pf what we owe to society ; to be so delighted wUb praying to God as not to hear the petitions of tb6 in- digent ; to devote ao much time to meditation as to VOL. IV. 46 362 Christian (Jaswstrj/. rtteerve none for an oppressed person who requires our assistance, for a widow who beseeches us to pity the cries oif her hungry children ; this is not piety, this is vision, this is enthusiasmy this is SQpliism of zeal, if I may express myself so. Be not righteous over-muehy neither make tht/selfoth er-nise in regard to distrusting yourselves, and fear- ing the judgments of God. 1 know, the greatest saints have reason to tremble, when they consid- er themselves in some points of light. I know Jobs and Davids have exclaimed, if / may Justify hyselfy mine onm mouth sha/l condemn me. IfthoUy Lerdy shauldsl mark iniquities^ O Lordy who shall stand } Job. ix. 20. Psal. cxxx. 3r 1 know, one of the most powerful motives which the inspired writers have used, to animate the hearts of mc^ri with piety, is fear, according to this exclamation of Solomon^ Hap- py is the man that feareth alway^ Prov. xxviii* 14. and according to this idea of St. Paul, Knowing the terrov of the Lordy 7ve pers%iade meuy 2 Cor. v. 11. I know, the surest method to strengthen our virtue is to dis- trust ourselves, according to tliis expression, Ifet him that thinketh he slandeth ifike heed Ust he f ally 1 Cor. X. 12. However, Jt is certain, some fears of God proceect rather from the irregularity of the imagination, than from a wise and well directed piety. Fear of the judgments of God is somethnes a passion, which hath this in common with all other passions, it loves to employ itself about what favours, clierishes, and su{> pdrts it ; it is reluctant to approach what would di- minish, defeat, and destroy it. Extremes of vice Christum Casm^ry. 36S touc)} extremes of Tirtiie, so that we ha^e no sooner passed over the bounds of virtue^ than we are gA- tangled in the irregularities of vice. y. We said in the fifth place, that each ought to I>onder his path with regard to that degree of holi- ness at which the mercy of God hath enabled him to arrive. An action good in itself, when it is perform- ed by a man arrived at a certain degree of holiness^ becomes criminal, when it is done by him who hath only an inferior degree. There never was an opinion more absurd and more dangerous than that of some mystics, known by the name of Molinisls. They af- firmed, that when the soul was lodged at I know not what distance from the body, that when it was in I know not what state, which they called abandonment^ it partook no more of Uie in^egularities of the body, which it animated, so that the most impure actions of the body could not defile it, because it knew bow to detach itself from the body. What kind of extravagance can one imagine, of which poor mankind have not given an example ? Yet the apostle determines tliis point with so much precision, that one would think it was impossible to mistake it. Unto the pure all things are pure; but unto them that are defiled and unbelieving^ nothing is jptire, Titus i. 1 6. I recollect the sense which a cel- ebrated bishop in the isle of Cyprus gave these words in the first ages of the church. I speak of Spiridion. A traveller, exhausted with the fatigue of bis jour- ney, waited on him on a day which the church bad set apart for fasting. Spiridion instantly ordered some refreshment for bim, and invited him by his 9M : Ckriilim Qamttiry. own example to eat No, I must not eat, mm) the stranger, because I am a christian. And because you are a christian, replied the bishop to Mo^ you Hiay eat without scruple, agreeably to the decision of an apostle. Unto the pure all things are pure. We cannot be ignorant of the shameful abuse which some have made of this maxim. We know some have extended it e?en to the most essential articles of positire law, which no one can violate without sin. We know particularly the insolence with which some place themselves in the list of those piire per- sons, of whom the apostle speaks, although their gross ignorance and novel divinity may justly place them in the opposite class. But the abuse of a max- im ought not to prevent the lawful use of it. There are some things which are criminal or lawful, accord- ing to the degree of knowledge and holiness of hinri who perfoiTOs ihem. " Unto the pure all things are pure ; but unto them that are defiled and unbeliev- ing, nothing is pure.'* Would you then know how far to carry your scruples in regard to some steps ! Examine sincerely, and with rectitude, to what de- gree you are pure in this respect. I mean, examine sincerely and uprightly, whether you be so far ad- vanced io Christianity, as not to endanger your faith and holiness by this step. Do you enquire whether you may, without scru- ple, read a work intended to sap tlie foundation of Christianity? Examme yourself. A man arrived at a certain degree of knowledge, is confirmed in the faith, even by the objections which are proposed to him to engage him to renounce bis religion* ^ Unto Chriilian Casuistry. M5 the pure all things are pure/' If you answer ibis description, read without scruple Lucretius, Spino* za, and all the other enemies of religion. The dark* ness with which they pretend to cover it, will only advance its splendour in your eyes. The blows which they gave it, will only serve to convince you that it is invulnerable. But if you be yet a child in understanding, as an apostle speaks, such books may be dangerous to you ; poison without an antidote, will convey itself into your vitals, and destroy all the powers of your souL Would you know whether you may, without scru- ple, mix with the world ? Examine yourself. ** Un- to the pure all things are pure." A man arrived at a certain degree of holiness, derives, from an inter- course with the world, only pity for the world. Ex- amples of vice: serve only to confirm him in virtue. If you answer this description, go into the world without scruple ; but if your virtue be yet weak, if intercourse with the world disconcert the frame of your mind, if the pleasures of the world captivate your imagination, and leave impressions which you cannot efface ; if, after you have passed a few hours in the world, you find it follows you, evea when you wish to get rid of it, then what can you do^to proper as to retreat from an enemy dangerous to virtue. ^ Unto the pure all things are pure ; but unto them that are defiled, nothing is pure." VI. In fine, if we wish our ways should be estab- lished, let us weigh them with the differ^ judgments which we ourselves form concerning them. The meaning of the maxioK^ the ^bstance of what we 366 Christian (Jasvistry. daily hear in the world, and which the writings of libertines have rendered famous, that youth is the season for pleasure, and that we should make the most of it ; that fit opportunities should not be let slip, because they so seldom happen, and that not to avail ourselves of them, would discover ignorance of one's self; the substance of this sophism (shall I say of infirmity or impiety ?) is not new. If some of you urge this now, so did the Jews intbe time of Isaiah. This prophet was ordered to inform them, that they had sinned to the utmost bounds of the patience of God ; that there remained only one method of preventing their total ruin, that was fast- ing, mourniiig, baldness, and guiding with isackdoth ; in a word, exerci:^es of lively and genuine repent- ance. These profane people, from the very same principle on which Ihc prophet grounded the neces- sity of their t!onversion, drew arguments to embol- den theiij in bin ; Ihey sJcw oxen, they killed sheep, they gave theniselves up to unbridled intemperance, and they said, '' Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall die.*' Tills is precLseiy the iimxiai of our libertines. Youth is the season for pleasure, and we should improve it: opportunities of enjoyment are rare ; we should be eneiiiie:^ to ourselves not to avail our- selves of theiih W^ould not one say, on hearing this (ani^uage, that an old man, going out of the world, inust needs regret that he did not give himself up to \iieasiire in his youth ? Would not one suppose that the sick, in beds of infirmity and pain, must needs ?oproach themselves for not spending their health Christian CJasidHrsi. 367 and strens^h in Imtury and debauchery ? Would not one imagine, that the despair of the damned through all edsrnity, will proceed from their recollecting thsit they cheeked their passions in this world? On the contrary, what will poison the years of your old age, should you arrive at it ; what will ag*^ gravate the pains, and envenom the disquietudes in- separable from old age, will be the abuse you made of your youth. So in sickness^ reproaches and remorse will rise out of a recollection of crimes committed when yoii was well, and will change your death-bed into an anticipated hell. Then, thou miserable wretch, who makest thy belly tby God, the remembrance of days and nights consinned in drunkenness, will aggmvate every pairj which thine intemperate life hath brought upon thee. Then, thou miserable man, who inces^ santly renderest an idolatrous worship to thy gold, saying to it, in acts of supreme adoration. Thou art my cwifidence ; then will the rust of it be a witness against thee, and eat thy flesh, as it were with fire. Then, unhappy man, whose equipages, retinue, and jmlaces, are the fruits of oppression and injustice, then " the hire of the labourers which have reaped down thy fields, which is of thee kept back by fraud, will cry, and the cries of the reapers will enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth ;'* then ** the stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the timbershall answer it." Then, miserable wretch, thou who makest the members of Christ the members of an harlot, then that Drusilla, who now fascinates thine eyes, who seems to thee to unite in her person all 36S QiriOian CasuUtry. manner of acoomplishments ; that Drusilla, v/ho nmkest thee forget what thou owest to the wwld and the church, to thy children, thy family, thy God, and thy soul, that Drusilla will appear to thee as the centre of all horrors ; then she, who always appeared to thee as a goddess, will become as dreadful as a fury ; then, like that abominable man, of whom the holy scriptures speak, who carried his brutality so far as to offer violence to a sister whose honour ought to have beta to him as dear as his own life ; then will '^ the hatiied wherewith thou hatest her, be greater than the love wherewith thou hadst loved her/' 2 Sam. xiiL 15. The same in regard to the damned ; what will give weight to the chains of darkness with which they will be loaded, what will augment the voracity of that worm which will devour them, and the activity of the flames which will consume them in a future state, will be the reproaches of their own consciences for the headlong impetuosity of their passions in this world. My brethren, the best direction we can follow for the establishment of our ways, is frequently to set the judgment which we shall one day form of them, against that which we now form. Let us often think of our death-bed. Let us often realize that ternble moment, which will close time, and open eternity. Let us often put this question to ourselves, What judgment shall I form of that kind of life which I now lead, when a burning fe- ver consumes my blood, whien unsuccessful rem- edies, when useless cares, when a pale physician. wft^fi a weeping family, wtieti ^11 aMund tiball announce to me the approach of death ? Wh^ dinfuld I then think df those continual cfissipd^ tkms which consume the most of my time ; what of those puerile amusements, which take tip aD nly at^^ tentlon ; what of these anxious fears, which fill all the capacity of my soul; what of these criminal pleai^ures, which infatuate me ; What judgment shall I make of all these things, in that terrible day, whetf the powers of the heavens shall be shaken, when thtf foundations of the earth shall shake, when the eatrtb ^all reel to and fro like a drunkard, tvhen the ele^ ments shall melt with fervent heat, when the grea^ white throne shall appear, when the judge shall idff and the books be opened, in which all my action^ words, and thoughts are registered ? If we follow these maxims, we shall see all olgect^ with new eyes ; we shall tremble at some ways which we now approve ; we shall discover gulphs in the- road, in which we walk at present without suspiciofl^ of danger. I said at the beginning, my brethren, and I repeat it again, in finishing this exercise, the text we haV^ been explaining includes a voluminous subject, mon proper to make the matter of a laige treatise than that of a single sermon. 'The reflections, which we have been making, aire 'only a slight sketch of thtf maxims with which the wise man intended to inspire us. All we have said will be entirely uselesi^ n6lefal you enlarge by frequent meditation the narrow* bounds lb which we have been obliged to include the subject. TOL. IV. 47 * 37& Christian Casuistry: Pcfider the path cf thy feet, and aU thy ways, sh^ he established. Wbo weighs, who calcuIateSf who coDnects and separates before he believes apd judgr es, before be esteems and acts? The least probal^^ it}* persuades us; the least object, that sparkles .in our eyes, dazzles us;, the least appearance of pleas- ure excites, fascinates, and fixes us. We determine questions on which our eternal destiny depends^ with a levity and precipitancy, which we should be asham- ed of in ca«es' of the least importance in temporal affairs.' Accordingly, the manner in which we act, perfectly agrees with the inattention with which we determine the reason of acting. We generally spend ^ife in a way very unbecoming intelligept beings, to whom God hath given a power of reflecting, and more like creatures destitute of intelligence, and wholly incapable of reflection. In order to obey the precept of the wise man, we should collect our thoughts every morning, and pever begin a day without a cool examination of the whole business of it We should recollect our- Sjelves every night, and nev^r finish a day without examining deliberately how we have employed it. Before we go out of our houses each shoidd ask bimself. Whither am I going? In what company shall I be ? What temptations will assault me ? What opportunities of doing good offer to me? When we return to our houses, each should ask himself. Where have I been ? What has my conversation in company been? Did I avail myself of every opportunity of doing goqd? Christian Casuistry. Sit My brethren, bow invincible soever our depravity may appear, how deeply rooted soever it may be, how powerful soever tyrannical habits may be over us, we should make rapid advances in the road of virtue, were we often to enter into ourselves ; on the contrary, while wfe act, and determine, and give ourselves up without reflection and examination, it is impossible our conduct should answer our calling. My brethren, shall I tell you all my heart ? This meditation troubles me, it terrifies me, it confounds me. I have been forming the most ardent desires for the success of this discourse; and yet I can hardly entertain a hope that you will relish it, I have been exhorting you with all the power and ardour of which I am capable ; and, if you will forgive me for saying so, with the zeal which I ought to have for your sal- vation; I have been exhorting you not to be discour- aged at the number and the difficulties of the duties which the wise man prescribes to you ; but, I am afraid, I know you too well to promise myself that you will acquit yourselves with that holy resolution and courage which the nature of the duties necessa- rily demands. May God work in you, and in me, more than I can ask or think ! God grant us intelligent minds; that we may act like intelligent souls! May that God, who hath set before us life and death, heaven and hell, boundless felicity and endless misery, may he so direct our steps, that we may arrive at that hap^ piness which is the object of our wishes, and which ought to be the object of all our care ! God grant us ithis grace ! To him be honour and glory for ever^--- Amen. SERMOX xn. The Necessity oj progressive Religion. I Corinthians, jx. 26, 27. / therefore so run^ not as uncertainly : so Jight /, not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my bodi/y and bring, it into subjection ; lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I mys^ should be a cast-away. My Brethren, X HAT was a fine eulogium, which was made on one of the most famous generals of antiquity, ft was said of him, that he thought there was nothing done while there remained any thing to do. To em* hrace such a system of war 9nd politics, was to open a wide field of painful labour ; but Caesar aspired to be a hero, and there was no way of obtaining his end» except that which he chose. Whoever arrives at wordly heroism, arrives at it in this way. By this marvellous secret the Roman eagles flew to the ut^ termost parts of Asia, rendered Gaul tributary, swiellr ed the Rhine with German blood, subjugated Britaii^ pursued the shattered remains of Pompey's army ixk- to the desarts of Africa, .and caused all the riveis tliat fell into the Adriatic sea, to roll along the sound of their victories. My brethren, successes not ne- 374 Tfce Necessity of progressive ReUgioiL cessarHy connected with heroism; the hero Caesar was a common misfortune, zS\ his heroism public at)bbery, fatal to the republic, and more so to Caesar himself. But, in order to be savned, it is necessary to succeed ; and there is no other way of obtaining sal- vation, except that laid down by this great general, dhink nothhig done^ while there is cmy thing to do. Be- hold, in the words of our text, behold a man, who perfectly knew the way to heaven, a man most sin- cerely aspiring to salvation. What doth he to sud- ceed? What we have said; he accounted all be had done nothing, while there remained any thing more to do. After he had carried virtue to its highest pitch, after he had made the most rapid progress, ^nd obtained the most splendid triumphs in the road of salvation, still he ran, still he fought, he undertook «ew mortifications, always fearing lest lukewarmncSss ^nd indolence should frustrate his aim of obtaining Ihe prize which bad always been an object of his liope; "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others^ I myself should be a cast-away.*' St. Paul lives no more. This valiant champion hath already conquered. But you, you christians, fire yet alive ; like Wm, the race is open before you, and to you now, as well as to him formerly, a voice •from heaven crieth, " To him that overcometh will I grant lo sit with me in my throne," Rev. iii. 21. Happy, if animated by his example, you share with •him a prize, which loses nothing of its excellence, by Tht Necessity of progressive Reli^wm, 375* the number of those who partake of it ! Happy, if you be able one day to say with him, " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteoua judge shall give me at that day : and not to me only» but unto all them that love his appearing !" 2 Tim^ iv, 7, 8. Let us first make one genei*al remark on the ex- pressions of the text ; they are a manifest allusioa to the games which were celebrated among the hea- thens. Fable, or history, tells us, that Pelops in- vented them, that Hercules and Atreus brought them to perfection, that Iphitus restored them ; all which signify very little to us. What is certain is^ that these games were celebrated with great pomp^ They were so solemn among the Greeks, that they made use of them to mark memorable events and public eras, that of consuls at Rome, of archons at Athens, of priestesses at Argos. They passed from Greece to Italy, and were so much in vogue at Rome^ that an ancient author said, two things were neces- sary to the Roman people — bread and public she ws»^ It is needless to repeat here what learned men hav^^ collected on this subject, we will remark only what may serve to elucidate our text, all the ideas of which are borrowed from these exercises. 1. In these games the most remarkable object was the course. The ground, on which the games were celebrated, was marked out with great exactness. In some places lines were drawn, and the place of combat railed, and wh^n be who x^aa went beyond 376 The Necessity of' progressive ReRgUnh the line, he ran to no purpose. It was dangefOus Ut lamble, especially in some places; as in Greece^ Hrhere the space was bounded on one side by th! in one word, you must- give yourself up entirely to a physician/'^*' By these means the combatants acquired !sucU health and strength, that they could bend with the grealLes^ ease such bows as hoi'ses could hardly, bend ; hence the health of a champion was a dQiiimdB proverbf to express a strong hale state^ As this regimen Was exact, it was painful and trying. It was necessary not only to surmount in'egular desires, but all those exercises must be positively practised which were essential to victorious combatants : It was not suffi- cient to observe them a little while, they must be wrought by long preparation into habits, without which the agility and vigour acquired by repeated labours would be lost ; witness that famous chain*: 'pion, who, after he had often and gloriously sue- ceeded, was shamefully conquered, because he had neglected the regimen for six months, during which time a domestic affair had obliged him to reside at Athens.! This is the third allusion which our apos- tle makes in the text, / keep vndcr my body^ and britig it into subjection^ Let ua observe, by the way, that these expressions * Epict. ca]^. 36. Voi. Plat, de legibus lib. ». t Hpr. Art. Poet. Julian de Laud. Const. Orat. i. \ Baudeibt De Dairval. Hist, de Ptolom6e Auletcs, pag. 6 1 . c* 9, VOL. IV. 48 378 The Necessitif oj prcgressite JReUgiM. of our apostle have been abused to absurd though devotional purposes ; and, to omit others, it was an' alnise of these expressions which produced tbe ex- travagant sect of the Flagellanls.f All Italy in the thirteenth century was seized with t panic, which ended in the birth of this sect. The next century, the Germans being afflicted with a plague, it filled all Germany ; and the folly of Heniy III. king of France, joined to that mean complaisance which in- duces courtiers to go into all the caprices of their masters, introduced it into that kingdom, and into that kingdom it went wilh so much fury, that Charles^ carc&ial of LoiTain, actually killed himself by ad- hering too closely to its maxims during a rigorous winter.^: What a wide field opens here to our meditation, were it necessary to shew the absurdity of such de- votions ! ^ We might shew, that (hey owe their origin to pa- ganism. Plutarch says, that in the city of Lacede- mon, they were sometimes pursued even to death in honour of Diana.|| Herodotus speaks to the same purpose concerning the festival of the great goddess in Egypt.J In like manner Philostratus speaks of the devotions performed in honour of the Scythian Diana.'^* Thus also Apuleius concerning the priests of the goddess of Syria;* and thus authors more t Hospiman. Hist. Monach. Boileau. Hist, dcs FlageUans. t De Thou, Hist. liv. 59. II Plutarch Vit. Lycurg. § Eutrop. liv. ii. ch. 41. ** Dc Vit, Apollon. lib. vi. c. 20. * L'Ane d'Or, liv. Tiii. Tiu Necessity of progressive TtdigioM. 379 credible^ I mean the writers of the Book of Kings, concerning the priests of Baal. We might shew the weakness of the ai^umentB on which such practices are founded ; as fabulous milv acles, and, among many othersj^ a letter brought by an angel from heaven to Jerusalem, which declared, that the blessed virgin having implored pardon for the guilty, God had replied, that their pardon should be granted on condition they whipped, themselves in this manner.f We might produce the weighty reasons which many of the Roman communion, and among others Gerson and De Thou, urged against such practices, and the testimonies of our scriptures, which express- ly forbid them; but we will content ourselves with observing, that the words of our text have nothing that can serve even for a plausible pretence for these superstitions. We said St Paul alluded to the regi- men observed by combatants ; combatants observed that kind of life, which was most proper to fit them for their profession; in like manner, St. Paul ob- seiTed what fitted him for his. Were it possible to prove, that mortifications and macerations were ne- cessary to this purpose, we should not then have a right to determine that the apostle had his eye on such services here. For our parts, we think, he intended all - acts of repentance prescribed in scr^- ture, and exemplified by the saints ; as silence, re- tirement, fasting, abstinence from criminal i)leas- ures, and so on. i Bosius AnnaL under the year 1349. 380 3%e N^ssity of progrcssitse ReUgUm. 4, Further, there were persons who presided over the Pagan games. They were called heralds. The name given them in the Greek language is precisely the same which in our language is rendered preachet. Their office was expressed by a word which signifies to preach. It consisted in proclaiming the game, di- recling the combatants, encouraging the weak, ani- mating the valiant, exposing the prize to public view, and giving it to the victor. This is the fourth allusion of our apostle, lest when I have prectclied to ethers. The original word which we have translated preached^ is the very word which is used to describe the office of such as presided at the games ; and St. Paul, by using this term, gives us a beautiful idea of the apostleship, and, in general, of the gospel min- istry. What is the office of a minister of the gos- pel ? We publish the race, we describe the good works J which God hath before ordained, that we should walk in them : we animate you by often saying, run with patience the race that is set before you : we lift up to public view the prize, and in the name of God we cry, so run that you may obtain. Happy if you all attend to this voice, and if, while a few are ea- gerly and constantly running the race set before them, others do not run more eagerly cross the space, like those unhappy people just now mentioned, who were wounded with iron spikes or drowned in the waves. 5. In fine. The last remark we make on pagan games regards the different destiny of the combat- xmts. The conquered derived no advantage from their pains ; but the victors were covered with bon- The Necessity of progressm SdHgwn. 381 ours and advantages : tbey were distinguished in all public assemblies ; tbey were called by the high sounding name of Olympian ; they were crowned with great ceremony ; statues were erected to their honour, and breaches were made in the walls of cit- ies to admit them with the greater pomp. This is the fifth allusion which the apostle here makes to the games, kst I should be a cast-away. A easUaway ^ the heathens applied this word to such combatants as entered the lists but did not obtain the prize. Such were the games celebrated through all Greece, and in particular at the city of Philippi, where St. Pauf wrote this epistle, and in that of Corinth, to which it is addressed. The believer is a stranger on earth, he sees there a thousand delights, of which he doth not partake. The eyes of Paul, at Philippi, more properly his ears, (for St. Paul hardly attend- ed public amusements,) were struck with the fame and magnificence of these games. The Corinthians were in the same condition. How hard is it to live in a country, and to be excluded from the pleasures of the inhabitants ! St. Paul strengthens the Corin- thians and himself against these temptations ; he ri- ses from sensual to spiritual pleasures, and says, he hath also an area, .a race, a crown, a triumph. " I therefore so run, not as uncertainly ; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection^, liest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be ii cast-away." We have explained the terms and allusions of the. aposUe. His m^tning is sufficiently clean / keep 382 Hke Neeesiity of progresske JR^gkm. Wider my body, and so on, does not mean, as some in- terpreters have it, I halt between hope of salvation, and fear of destruction ; an interpretation directly opposite to that assurance which St. Paul expresses in many pails, of his epistles, and particularly in this famous passage, which we have elsewhere explained, *' I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor an- gels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pre- sent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall he able to separate us ironi the love of God," Rom. viii. 38, 3Jl But / keep under my body ; and the rest means, whatever pro- gress I have made in a career of virtue, all my^ past efforts would be Useless, should I spend the rest of my life in idleness and indifference, and I could not expect, even by the assistance of grace, to arrive at glory. Let us now justify this disposition of our apostle, and let us prove this general truth, that there is no point fixed, at wliich a christian may stop; that each portion of life hath i|s task; that to what de- gree soever we have carried our sanctification, un- less we carry it further, go on and pei'severe, we should act contrary to the spirit and temper of the gospel. This is the principal design of this dis- course. 1. Let us first examine the example of St. Paul. St. Paul did not think that if he lived hereafler in indolence without endeavouring to make new advan- ces, he had any right to expect the benefits of the gospel : No christian, therefore, living in indolence, and making no new advances, ought to flatter him- Tkt Nicessity ^ progressive SdigML 383 self that he is entitled to the blessii^ of the gospeK In order to perceive this consequence, form a just notion of the virtues of our apostle, and consider Paul as a zealot, Paul as a proselyte. Paid as an apostle, and Paul as a martyr, and you will allow he was a great character, a christian of the highest order, and that if, with all his eminent virtues, he thought himself obliged to acquire y€t more emi* nent virtue, every christian ought to form the same idea of his own duty. Consider Paul as a BtaloL Perhaps you may be suri)rised at our passing an encomium on this part of his life. Certainly we shall not undertake to make an apology for that cruel and barbarous zeal which made use of tire and blood, and which put i-acks for arguments, and gibbets for demonstrations. But the purest life hath its blots; and the most gen- erous heart its frailties. In that fatal necessity of imperfection which is imposed on all mankind, there are some defiled streams, so to speak, which How from pure springs, some people, and the apostle was one, who sin from an excess of virtue. What idea then must we form of this man, and what shall we say of his virtues, since his vices were effects of such an excellent cause ? This odious part of hi? life, which he wished to bury in oblivion, that barbarity and madness, that industry to inflame the synagogue, and to stir up all the world, all this, strictly speak- ing, and properly explained, was worthy of praise. He maintained error. Why? Because he thought it was truth, and respected it accordingly. He per- secuted, because he loved ; he was mad, because he 384 The Necessity of progressive Rdigiok. was zealous; zeal, as I said just now, misguided, but zeal, however ; a criminal indiscretion indeed, but an indiscretion, which in a moral abstraction may be considered as a virtue. Consider Paul as a proselyte. A man educated in opinions opposite to Christianity, infatuated with popular errors, prejudiced with ideas of a temporal Messiah, accustomed to consider Jesus Christ as an impostor, and his religion as a plot concerted by knaves, this man changes his ideas, and his whole system of religion, and worships the crucified Jesus, who was to the Jew a stumbling block, and to the Greek foolishness^ 1 Cor. i. 23. The first lesson from heaven persuades him, the first knock at the door of his heart opens it, his conversion is efiected in a mo- jnent. / went not up to Jerusalem y said he ; I conferred not with flesh and blood, Gal. i. 16, 17. What a fund of virtue instantly had this man in his heart! Of all characters in life there are few so respectable as that of a real proselyte> A man who changes his reli- gion on pure principles, hath a greatness of soul above common men. I venture to advance this gen- eral maxim, that a man who changes his religion, must be consummate eitlier in virtue or vice. If he be insincere, he is a wretch; if he be not a wretch, he is a hero. He is a hero if his virtue be sin- cere, if he makes generous efiorts to correct er- rors imbibed in his earliest youth, if he can see without trembling that path of tribulation wliich is generally opened to such as forsake their reli- gion, and if he can bear all the suppositions vviiich are generally made against them who renounce J%e Necessity of progtessin RdigUm. S85 the profession of their ancestoi-s ; if, I say, he can do all this, he is a hero. On the contrary, none but a wretch can embark in such an undertakings, if he be destitute of the dispositions necessary to success. When such a man forsakes his for- mer profession of religion, there is reason to sup* pose that human motives have done what love of truth could not do ; and that he embraceth his new religion, not because it appears to him more worthy of his attention and respect, but because it is more suitable to his interest. Now to embrace a religion for worldly interest is almost the highest pitch of wickedness. Our maxim admits of very few excep- tions, and most proselytes are either men of eminent virtue or abandoned wretches ; and as we are happy to acknowledge there are several of the first kind in this age, so with sorrow we are obliged to allow, that there are a great number of the latter. Let St. Paul be judged by the utmost rigour of tlfis maxim. He was a hero in Christianity. The principle that en- gaged him to embrace tlie gospel, diffused itself through all his life, and every one of his actions ver- ified the sincerity of his conversion. St. Paul was born for great things ; he it was whom God chose for an apostle to the gentiles. He did not stop in the porch of the Lord's house, he quickly passed into the holy place ; he was only a very short time a catechumen in the school of Christ ; he soon became a master, a minister, an apostle; and in all these eminent offices he carried virtue to a higher pitch than it had ever been carried before him, and (lerhaps beyond what it will be ever practised after VOL, IV. 49 386 The Neeessitj/ of progressive ReUgim. him. In effect, what qualities ought a minister of the gMpel to possess which St. Paul did not possess in the highest degree ? Is it assiduity ? " Ye remem- er, brethren/' said he, " our labour and travel, for la- bouring night and day we preached unto you the gospel of God,*' 1 Thess. ii. 9. Is it gentleness ? ** We were gentle among you, even as a nurse cher- isheth her children. You know Ippw we exhorted, and comforted, and charged every one of you, as a father doth his children, that ye would walk worthy of God,*' qhap. ii. 7, 11, 12. Is it prudence ? " Unto the Jews I became as a .Tew, that I might gain the Jews; to them that are without law as without law, that I mi|$ht gain them that are without law. I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some,*' 2 Cor. ix. 20, 22. Is it charity? "I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren," Rom. ix. 3. ** I will very gladly spend and be spent for you," 2 Cor. xii. 15. Is it courage ? He resisted St. Peter, and "withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed," Gal. ii. 11. "He reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," before Felix and Drusilla, Acts xxiv. 25. Is it disinterestedness in regard to the world? "We sought not glory of men, neither of you, nor yet of others. We speak the gospel not as pleasing men, but God which trieth our hearts," 1 Thess. ii. 6, 4. Is it zeal ? His spirit was stirred in him at Athens, when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry. Acts xvii. 16. Then, like the prophet of old, he became "very jealous for the Lord of hosts," 1 Kings xix. 10, Is it to support the honour of his l%e Necessity of progressive ReHgum. 3 W ministry ? " Let a man so account of us, as of the ministers of Christ," 1 Cor. iv. 1. " V\ e are ambas- sadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us,'' 2 Cor. V. 20. " It were better for me to die, than that any man should make my glorying void,*' 1 Cor. ix. 15. Jesus Christ was the model, by which St. Paul formed himself: "be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ," chap. xi. 1. When students turn their attention to the christian ministry, models of such as have distinguished themselves in this of- fice are proposed to their imitation. The imagina*' tion of one, the judgment of another, the gravity of a third, and the learning of a fourth are set before them, and from good originals very often we receive bad copies. St. Paul chose his pattern. His master, his model, his original, his all was Jesus Christ, and he copied every stroke of his original, " be ye fol- lowers of me, even as I also am of Christ.** But, though it is always commendable to discharge this holy office well, yet it is particularly so in sonic circumstances; and our apostle was in such, for he officiated when the whole world was enraged against christians. Consider him then on the stage of mar- tyrdom. What would now be our glory was then his disgrace ; assiduity, gentleness, zeal, and all the other virtues just now mentioned, di-ew upon himth6 most envenomed jealousy, accusations the most atro- cious, and persecutions the most cruel. It was in this light, God set the ministry before him at first, " I will shew him how great things he must suffer for my name*s sake," Acts ix. Ifi.^Shew him how great things he must suffer for my name's sake ! What a motive ^ J%c HfeeessUy of pregresswe BeUgioB, to engage a man to undertake an office ! Now*'a*^ay8, in order to give a great idea of a church, it is said, it bath such and such advantages^ $o much in cash, so much in small tithes, and so nfiuch in great tithes. St. Paul saw the ministry only as a path full of tborng and briars, and he experienced, through all the covrse of his iife> the trulb of that idea which was given him of his office. Hear the catalogue of his HixCferings. " Of the .Tews five times received I forty etripes save one, Tiirice was I beaten with rods ; once was I stoned ; thrice I suffered shipwreck ; a liigbt and a day have I been in the deep. In jour- neyings often ; in perils of waters ; in perils of rob- bers ; in perils by mine own countrymen ; in per- ils jby the heathen ; in perils in the city ; in per- ils in the wilderness ; in perils in the sea ; in perils among false brethren ; in weariness and painful ness; in watchings often ; in hunger and thirst ; in fast- ings often ; in cold and nakedness," 2 Con xi. 24 — 27. Good God ! What a salary for a minister, hunger, thirst, fastings, nakedness, peril, persecu- tion, death ! In our case, we can die but once, ?und virtue considers the proximity of the crown of righteousnesji;, which, being suspended imraedi- ?itely over the head of the martyr, supports him un- der the pains of martyrdom ; but the ministry of gt. Paul was a perpetual martyrdom, his life was a continual death. '^I think that God hath set forth us the apostles last, as it were appointed to death. For we are made a spectacle unto the world, and to ^ngels, and to men," 1 Cor. iv. 9. Here we finish the eulogium of our apostle, and. Zile Necessity ^ pr^ressm lUMgim^ 399 by uniting the parts of this slight sketcb, we obtain a just portrait of the man. Do you know a great^ than St. Paul? €an you conceive virtue in a more etninentdegree ? Behold a man tired with zeal, making what he thought the cause of God his own cause, God's enemies his enemies, the interest of God the interest of himself Behold a man, who turns his attention to truth, and, the moment he discovers it, embraces, and openly avows it. Behold a man who, not content to be an ordinary christian, and to save himself a]one, aspiring at the glory of carrying through the whole world, for public advantage, that light which had illuminated himself. Behold a man preaciiing, writing ; what am I saying ? Behold a man suffering, dying, and sealing with his own blood the truths he taught. An ardent zealot, a sincere convert, an accomplished minister, a bleeding mar- tyr, learned in his errors, and, if I may be allowed to speak so, regular in his mistakes, and virtuous even in his crimes. Shew me in the modern or primitive church a greater character than St. Paul. Let any man produce a christian who had more reason to be satisfied with himself, and who bad more right to pre- tend that he had discharged all his duties. Yet this very man, this Paul, forgot those things which were behind ! This very Paul was pressing forward ! Thig is the man who feared he should 6^ a cast-awayf And you smoking JlaXy you bruised reedy you who bave hardly taken root in the chriatiau soi|^ you who have hardly a spark of love ^o.God, do you think your piety sufficient ? Are yow the man to li^ve off ^ndeavQiiring to make i^ew advances ? 1 390 JTie Necessitj/ of progressive Religion. Perbaps you may say, the text is not to be talcen literally, it is the language of humility, and resembles what St. Paul says in another place ; I am the chirf of sinners ; agreeably to his own direction, that ewh christian should esteem another better than himself^ ^nd which he calls, very justly, lowliness of ndnd. No such thing, my brethren ; you will be convinced of the contrary, by the following reflections. 2. We ground the necessity of progressive reli- gion on the great end of Christianity. Form, if it be possible, a just notion of Christianity. I say if it be possible ; for we have a wonderful reluctance to understand om- own religion. We have all a strange propensity to disguise the character of a true christian, and to keep ourselves ignorant of it. We have the holy scriptures, and in them the gos- pel plan of redemption before our eyes every day, and every day Ave throw over them a vari- ety of prejudices, which suppress the Iruth, and prevent us from seeing its beauty. One forms of Christianity an idea of indolence and relaxation, and, under pretence that the gospel speaks of mercy and grace, persuades himself that he may give a loose to all his natural evil dispositions. Another imagines the gospel a body of discipline, the principal design of which was to regulate society, so that provided we be pretty good parents, tolerable magistrates, and as good subjects as other people, we ought all to be content with ourselves. A third thinks, to be a christian is to defend witli constant heat certain points which he elevates into capital doctrines, es-. sential to holiness here, and to salvation bereaftcF. The Necessity of progressive ReUgipn. 391 A fourth, more unjust than all the i*est, supposes the £rst duty of a christian is to be sure of his own sal« vation. Each wanders after his own fancy. It should seem, however, that the more we consult the gospel, the more fully shall we be convinced, that its design is to engage us to aspire at perfection^ to transform man, to render him as perfect as he was when he came out of the hands of his Creator, to renew him after the image of him that created him, to make him approach the nature of glorified saints, and, to say all in one word, to transform him into the divine nature. This is Christianity. This it is to be a christian, and consequently a christian is a man called to be perfect j as his father which is in hea- ven is perject ; to be one with God, as Jesus Christ is one with God. This definition of a christian and of Christianity is justified by all we see in the gospel. FV)r why does it every where propose perfection for our end, heaven to our hope, God for our model ? Why doth it teach us to consider the good things of the world as evils, and the evils of the world as benefits, hu- man virtues as vices, and what men call vice as vir* lue ? Why all this ? All beside the matter, unless the gospel proposes to renew man, to transform him, and to make him approach the perfect being. From these principles we conclude thus. Since the gospel requires us to endeavour to be perfect as our Father which is in heaven is perfect^ we ought never to cease endeavouring till we are as perfect as our Father which is in heaven is perfect. Since the gospel requires us to labor to become, by a trans- 392 The Necessity ^ prf^ressive ReMgim. formation of our being, one with God, as Jesus Christ is one with God, we ought never to give over our endeavours till we do become one with God. Afore* over, as we shall never in this life carry our virtue to so high a degree as to be perfect as our Father is perfect, holy as God is holy, one with God as Jesus Christ is one with God, it follows to a demonstration, that in no period of our life will our duty be finish- ed ; consequently we must make continual progress, if we would answer our engagements ; and conse- quently there is no point fixed in the career of vir- tue, in which it would be allowable to stop; and consequently St. Paul ought to be understood liter- ally, when he says of himself, " I count not myself to have apprehended : I therefore so^ run, not as un- certainly : so fight I, not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my body, and bring it into sub- jection : lest that by any means when I have preach- ed to others, I myself should be a cast-away," Phil, ill. 13. and consequently, of all the excuses, of all the pretexts, of all the sophisms, which were ever invented to palliate that slowness, with which we walk in the way of virtue, there are none more friv- olous than these, we are not saints, we cannot be perfect, we cannot put off* liuman nature : for it is because you are not saints, it is because you are not perfect, it is because you cannot put off human na- ture, it is on this account, that you ought to make a continual progress in christian virtue, that the sin- cerity, and so to speak, the obstinacy of your ef- forts may make up for your imperfections. TIU Nuessihf of progressive Religkm. Wi . 3. Our thW class ef proofe is taken from the felal comeqaences cf a cessation of our efforts, a suspension of our religious endeavours. Were it literally true that we could arrive at that state of perfection which the gospel requires of us ; could we actually finish the morality of religion, it would still follow, that we must make new efforts during our residence in this world, and that without these our past labours would be useless. A man employed in a mechanical art prepares his materials, sets about his work, and. 'car- ries it on to a certain degree. He suspends his la-* hour for a while; his work doth not advance, indeed, but our artist hath at least this advantage over us, when he returns to his labour, he finds his work in the same forwardness in which he left it. Heavenly exercises are not of this kind. Past labour is often lost for want of perseverance, and, it is a -certain maxim in religion, that not to proceed is to draw back. Vice is closely connected with human propensi- ; ties. Virtue, on the contrary, is directly opposite. < As soon as you cease to endeavour to retain what opposes your propensities, nature takes its course. You carry within you, so to speak, a worker of ini- . quity, who constantly labours at the fatal work of your depravity. This workman i^ the old man. He every day gets forward, every day confirms you in sin, every day strengthens your attachment to sensible objects, every day ties you with fresh bands to earthly things. If you do not oppose la- bour against labour, reflection against reflection, mo- 394 The Necessity of progreisive Religim. live against motive, progress against progress, you will be defeated. In these obseivations we find an answer to an ob- jection,, constantly repeated when we condenan that perpetual dissipation, that excessive gaming, and those reiterated amusements, which consume the greatest part of your live&. Yon perpetually com- plakh, that we overstrain matters, that we aggi*avate things, that the yoke of Christ is easy^ and his burden is lig/it, and that we make the one uneasy, and the other heavy. You constantly allege, that re%ion is not intended to put man on the rack, but to conduct hiai^ to reason ; that the gospel is not contrary to a thousand plesures which society oiTers us, and that, after all, tlje things we condemn are indifferent. I grant> religion doth not condemn pleasures. I grant more, the pleasures you refer to are indifferent in their nature, that Ihey liave no bad influence, no treachery, no calumny in your conversation ; no fraud, no swearing, no sordid interest in your gam- ing, no lax maxims^ no profaneness, no immodesty in your amusements > I grant all this : Yet, after all, it is a fact, that, as the new man suspends his work, the old man advances his. It is always true, for ex- ample, that when a sermon hath made some impres- sions on your hearts, when the lukewarm are arous- ed, when the impenitent are terrified, those^ other ob- jects efface these impressions, and, though they may not lead you into the commission of fresh crimes, yet they make you relapse into that first state of de- pravity from which you seemed to be emerging. I^e Necessity ^ progressive Ueligion. 395 4. A fourth source of proofs in favour of the ne- cessity of progress is, the advances themselves which are' made iff the path ef holiness. The science of salvation in this respect resembles human sciences^ In human sciences we see a very singular phenome- non. A man of great and real learning is humble, be always speaks with caution, he pronounces always with circumspection, he determines a point trea^ bling, and his answers to difficult questions at^-not unfrequently confessions of his ignorance. On the contrary, a pedant assumes the state of a superior ge- nius; lie knows every thing, and iindertakes to elu- cidate and determine every thing. Both tljese men are in earnest, both are sincere. The learned man speaks very sincerely; for, as he hath made great advances in literature, he knows the extent of it; he knows that nature Imth difficulties, providence depths, religion mysteries : Such a man becomes liumble as lie becomes able, i^fid the more he acquires, the more he feek the need of acquiring. On the contra- ry, a pedant doth not even know what learning is, he stops on the beach, sees a little way, takes that little for the whole, and easily persuades himself that he knows all. Thus in the science of salvation, a man of little re- ligion, who hath only a languishing regard for God, and a few superficial ideas of virtue, soon flatters himself that he hath done, all his duty, employed all his love, and carried* fervour to its highest degree/ A man of lively and vigorous religion doth not stop on the shore, he goes aboard a fast sailor, weighs an- chor, and sets sail on that ocean of truth which re- 396 77ie Necessity of, progressive KeUgion. m Dgion sets before hiiti^ and be soon finds immense spaces before bim ; or, to speak without a figure, he finds bis own virtues so few in number, so limiti^d in degree, so obstructed in their course, and so mixed in their exercise, that he easily comes into a well grounded judgment, that all he hath attained is noth* ing to what lies before him. As he meditates on his sins, he finds them so great, so numerous, so odious, so dangerous, that he cannot comprelvend how it in that his heart doth not break, and his eyes become fountains of tears. As he meditates on the nature of this world, he finds it so vain in its occupations, so puerile in its pleasures, so void in its amusements,, its friendship so deceitful, and its duration so short, that he cannot comprehend what should detain bim in the w^orld. As he meditates on the felicity of heaven, he finds it so substantial and pure, so splen- did and satisfactory, that he cannot conceive what should detain him, and prevent his losing sight of the world and ascending to heaven. As he medi- tates on the Creator, he find him so wise, so just, so good, so lovely, that he cannot imagine why his heart doth not always burn with flames of love to him. Such is the eflect of perseverance in a path of vir- tue ! Accordingly we find the greatest saints the most eminent for huniilily. Abraham durst not " take upon him to speak unto the Lord, because he was only dust and ashes," Gen> xviii.27. Job, "though he were righteous, yet would not answer, but made supplication to his judge," chap. ix. 15. David. cDiild not " stand, if the Lord should mark iniqui'- 7%f Necessity oj pn^ressivc ReKgion. 397 lies," Psal. cxxx. 3. St Paul did not think he had attainedy Phil. iiL 12. To say all in one word, ce- lestial intelligences, who were never embodied, se- raphin^s placed immediately opposite the throhe of God, with two wings, ready to fly at the command of the Creator, have also four wings to cover thek feet and feces, to express that thrir zeal, how feryent and flaming soever, cannot equal what that God merits, whom they incessantly admire and adoi^. 5. Our fifth class of proofs is taken from the ex- cellence of the ministry. St. Paul was not an or- dinary christian ; he was a minister of the gospel, and the greatness of his character was to him a ground of humility and diffidence. , Although the duties of ministers, and the duties of hearers are essentially the same; though there are not two ways to heaven, one for the pastor, and another for the flock, yet, it is certain, ministers have more motives to holiness than other men. What would the people say, if the minister of the pulpit, and the- minister of society were two men ? If the minister of the pulpit, declaimed against the vanities of the world, and the minister of socie- ty were worldly ? If the minister of the pulpit were aiiman grave, severe, fervent as a seraph, and the minister of society were a man loose, and full of worldly vices? Ceilainly people would say, we sported with their credulity, and many a mouth would thunder in our ears this cutting reproach, ^' Thou which teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? /Thou that preachest a man should not steal. 398 The Necessity cf pregressive RdigzM. dost thou steal? Thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou commit sacrilege ?" Rom. ii. 21. Beside, a minister bath two works to do in regard to salvation, his own soul to save, and the souls of his people to sava Each of these becomes a reaison for his own sanctification. ^* For their sakes I sanc- tify .myself,'' said the Saviour of the world, ** that they also might be sanctified," John xvii. 19. In- terpreters understand by this sanctification that sep- aration, which Jesus Christ made of himself for the salvation of his church : but may we not underataod the word sanctify in the first part of the proposition as we understand the same word in the second ? For their sakes I sancttfy myself ^ is as much as to say, I obey thee, not only because being a creature I owe thee an inviolable fidelity, but because, being the master and teacher of thy church, I ought to influ* ence it by my own example. Further, a minister of the gospel hath extraordi- nary assistance, lie is always with God, virtue is con- stantly before his eyes, and though almost all other employments in society liave connected with them particular temptations to vice, the profession of a merchant to self-interest, that of a soldier to cruel- ty, that of a magistrate to pride, yet the ministry h itself an inducement to virtue. Such being the im- portance of our engagements, and the eminence of our character, who can flatter himself with having discharged all his duties ? Who can venture to lift up his eyes to heaven? Who is not annihilated un- der a sense of his imperfections and frailties? " O Thi NMxssittf of progressive ReUs^ion. 399 Lord enter not into judgment with thy servant,'* PsaL cxiiii. 2. Finally, The necessity of prt^esdive sanctifica- tion appears by the enil which God proposed in pla- j cinfi: us in this world. . We are ofien troubled ta t conceive why God lodged man, a creatiire so noble, i in a theatre of vanity and uncertainty. What is our life of thirty, forty, or fourscore years, to the im- mense duration of eternity ? How can we reconcile the part we act here, with the wisdom of him who placed us here, and, if I may speak so, the little^ ness of the world with the grandeur of its inhabit- ants? A'Vhat destination do you assign man? What end do you attribute to his Creator? Why did he place him in this world ? Was it to make him hap- py ? But what! can lie be made happy among ob- jects so very disproportional to his faculties ? Are not his fortune and reputation, his health and his life, a prey to all human vicissitudes? Was it to make him miserable ? But how can this agree with the di- vine perfections, with that goodness, liberality, and beneficence which are essential to God? Was it to enable him to cultivate arts and sciences? But what relation is there between an occupation so mean and a creature so noble ? Beside, would life then h^ve been so short? Alas! we hardly make any progress in arts and sciences, before they become useless to us! Before we have well passed out of infancy and novitiate, death puts a period to our projects, and takes away from us all the fruits of learn- ing and labour. Before we have well learned laogMages^ death condemns \is to eternal silence. 400 7%0 NettesilY of progressive ReUgkiiu Before we veil know the world, we are oUig- ed to quit it, and we die when wie are just leani- iDg to live. If the fanmus Tbeopbrastus, • at the age of one hundred and seven years, regretted life, because he just then began to live wisely, what lamentations must other men make ? What then was tbie design of God in placing us here ? Was it that w6 should form and refine society? But how can a society, composed of creatures tran- sient and imperfect, be considered as a real and sub- stantial body of bliss ? If it hath some solidity and reality, when considered abstractly, yet what is it iti itself? What is it to you? What is it lo me? Whiat is it to any individual member ? Doth not one law reduce all to dust ? My brethren, there is only one way out of this labyrinth. One single answer is sufficient for all these questions. This world is a place of exercise, this life is a time of trial, which is given us that w^ may choose either eternal happiness or endless mis- ery. To this belong all the different ideas which the holy Spirit gives us of life. Sometimes it is a slate of traffic, in which eternal reward is given for a cup of cold water only. Sometimes it is a state of tribu- lation, in which light cifflictian, which is but for a moment, worketh Jor us afar more exceeding and eter- nal weight of glory. Sometimes it is a passage way, in wliich we behave as strangers and pilgrims. Some- times it is an economy of visitation, in which riches of goodness and forbearance, and long-suffering, are opened to us. Sometimes it is a ra4;e, in which all The Necessity qf progressive BeHgiM. 401 rtmj but one recdveth the prize. Sometimes it is a fight, io^ which we cannot hope to conquer, unless we fight with courage and constancy. To this subject belongs the scriptural estimation of life. Sometimes it speaks of life as mean Itdd contemptible ; and at other times, on the contraiy, as great and iuTaiuable. Sometimes it heaps ex* pression upon expression, image upon image, emblem upon emblem, to make us consider it with contempt* It is a shadow, a vanity, a Jlower, grass, a vapour, a dream, a taJe, a vain shew, nothing before God. And yet this vain shadow, this Jhwer, this grass, this va* pour, this dream, this Icde, this shew, this nothing, the scriptures teach us to consider as a time for us to redeem, as an acceptable time, as a day of salvation, as a time after which there will be time no longer. Why this different estimation ? If you consider life in re^ gard to itself, and with a view to the connections we form, the pleasures we relish, the temporal occupa* tions we foUow : if you consider it in regard to seep* tres and thrones, crowns and establishments the most pompous and solid, you cannot under-rate life. On the contrary, if you consider it in regard to the great design of the Creator, in regard to the relation it hath to eternity, in regard to that idea which we have given you of it, you cannot value it too highly. This world then is a place of exercise, life is a time of trial, given us that we might choose eternal happi* ness or endless misery. This princifde being allowed, our doctrine is sup- ported by a new class of arguments ; for be it granted that you remember nothing in your past life contra- TOL. rv. 51 402 The Necessity of progressive ReHgiom. ry to your profession of Christianity ; be it that you resenjble St. Paul in aU his excellencies after con* version, and in none of the crimes which he comniit- ted befoi*e that happy period ; tb^ only conclusion ^hich you have a right to draw is, that you have performed a part of your task, but not that there remains nothing more for you to do. You are nearer the end than they who have not run so fast in tbe race as you have, but you have not yet obtained the prize. You have discharged the duties of youths and the duties of manhood, now the duties of old age remain to be discharged. You have discharged all the duties of health, now the duties of sickness and dying remain to be discharged. This world is a place of exercise ; while you are in it your exer- cise is not finished ; life is a time of trial ; as long ais you live, your trial remains. Let us conclude. Were we to act rationally, we should always fix our minds on these truths; we should never end a day uithout putting this question to ourselves, What progress have I made in virtue ? Have I this day approached the end of my creation ? And as the tiine of my abode here diminishes, do I advance in proportion to the time that remains ? We should require of ourselves an exact account of ev- ery day, every hour, every instant of our duration ; but this is not the gospel of most christians. What we have been proposing, seem to most hearers mere maxims of the preacher, more proper to adorn a public discourse, than to compose a system of reli- gion. The Necessity of progressive Religion.'' 403 ■ Why are not ecclesiastical bodies as rigid and se* vere against heresies of practice, as they are against heresies of speculation ? Certainly there are heresies in morality, as well as in theology. Councils and synods reduce the doctrines of faith to certain pro- positional points, and thunder anathemas against all who refuse to subscribe theip. They say, Cursed be he who doth not believe the divinity df Christ ; cursed be he who doth not believe bypostatical union, and the mystery of the cross ; cursed be he who de« nies the inward operations of grace, and the irresisti- ble efficacy of the holy Spirit. I wish they would make a few canons againsf moral heresies ! How many are there of this kind among our people ? Among our people we may put many who are in another class. Let me mstke canons. In the first I would put a heresy too common, that is, that the calling of a christian consists less in the practice of virtue, than in abstaining fi'om gross vices ; and t would say^ if any man think that he sufficiently an- swers the obligations of Christianity, by not being avaricious, oppressive, and intemperate, if he do not allow that he ought to be zealous, fervent, and de- tached from the world, let him be accursed. In a second canon, I would put another heresy, equally general, and equally dangerous, and which regards the delay of conversion ; and I would say. If any one imagine that, after a life spent in sin, a few re- grets, proceeding more firom a fear of death and bell, than from a principle of love to God, are sufficient to open the gates of heaven, let him be accursed. In a third canon I would put fill up the list 404 Tht Neeessitff c/ progressive BeligioH. y yourselves, my brethren, and let us return to our subject To confine one's self to a certain circle of Tirtues, to stop at a fixed point, to be satisfied with a given degree of piety, is an error ; it is a heresy, which deserves as many anathemas, and ecclesiastical thunders, as all the other which have been unani- mously denounced by all christians. My brethren, let us rectify our ideas, in order to rectify our conduct. Let us run fvitk patience the race set before vSj let us go on till we can say with St. Paul, / havejimshed my course. Be not terrified at this idea of progressive religion. Some great ef- forts must have been made by all holy men in this place to arrive at that degree of virtue which th^ bave obtained ; but the hardest part of the work is done, henceforward what remains is easy. The way to heaven is narrow at the entrance, but it widens as we go on. The yoke of Christ is heavy at first, but it weighs little when it bath been long worn. After all, there is a way of softening all the pains to which we are exposed, by continuing our efforts. St. Paul practised this art with great success ; it con^ sists in fixing the eye on the end of the race. At the end of the race he saw two objects : — The first the prize. How easy to brave tlie enemies of salvation, when the eye is full of the prospect of it ! How tol- erable appear the pains of the present state, when the ^lifferings of the present tin:e are compared witk^ and weighed against the glory that follows. Next, St, paul saw Jesus Christ at the end of tlie race, an^ other object which animated him. He was ani- mated by the e^fample of Christ, to finish bis course 2nte Ke^ssity of progressive JReligtoii. 405 with joy ; be was animated by the assistances which supported him; he was animated by the promise of Christ telling him, He that overcomdh shall sit down in my throne ; he was animated by the mer- cy, which he knew, how weak soever his efforts might be, would be approved at the tribunal of Jesus Christ, provided they were sincere, for Jesus himself conquered for him, and himself acquired that prize for the apostle at which he aspired ; in a word, he was animated by his love ; Jesus Christ is at the end of the race, and Paul loved Jesus Christ, and longed to be with him. I said, he saw two obr jects, the prize of victory, and Jesus Christ ; but these make only one object. St. Paul's prize is Je- sus Christ. Jesus Christ is Paul's paradise. Accord- ing to him, Christ is the most desirable part of celes- tial felicity : " Whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord; we are willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord,'* 2 Cor. v. 6, 8. " I desire to depart, and to be with Christ," Phil. i. 23. " I press toward the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus," chap. iii. 14. This thought, that every step he took brought him nearer to Jesus Christ, this thought ren- dered him insensible to all the fatigue of the race, and enabled him to redouble his efforts to arrive at the end. O flames of divine love ! Shall we never know you except by the examples of the primitive christians! O ftames of divine love, which we have so often de- shall we never feel you in our own souls ! > 406 TXtf Necessity ef progressive Md^im Fire us, inflame us with your ardour, and make us understand that all things^are easy to the man who sincerely loves God! God grant us this grace ! To him be gloiy for erer and ever. Amen. SEBMON Xm The Marai Martyr. Psalm cxix. 46. / fviU speak of thy testimonies also b^ore kingSy and ' niU not be ashamed. My Brethren, JIt is not only under the reign of a tyrant, that re- ligion involves its disciples in persecution, it is in times of the greatest tranquillity, and even when virtue seems to sit on a throne. A christian is often subject to punishments difieient from wheels and racks. People united to him by the same profession of religion, having received the same baptism, and called with him to aspire at the same glory, not un- frequently press him to deny Jesus Christ, and pre- pare punishments for him, if he have courage to confess- him. Religion is' proposed to us in two dif- ferent points of view, a point of speculation, and a point of practice. Accordingly, there are two sorts of martyrdom ; a martyrdom for doctrine, and a martyrdom for morality. It is for the last that the prophet prepares us in the words of the text, and to the same end I dedicate the sermon which I am going to address to you to^y. I come into this place, that affords a happy asylum for confessord 408 The Moral Martyr. and martyrs, to utter in your hearing these words of Jesus Christy ^ Whosoever shall J>e ashamed of me, and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the holy angels,*' Mark viii. 38. In order to animate you with a proper zeal for morality, and to engage you, if necessary, to be- come martyrs for it, we will treat of the subject in five different views, I. We will shew you the authors, or, as they may be justly denominated, the executioners^ who pun- ish men with martyrdom for morality. IL The magnanimity of such as expose thtQl- selves to it. ' III. The horrors that accompany it. IV. The obligation which engages men to submit to if. V. The glory that crowns it. We will explain these five ideas contained in the words of the psalmist, IwUl speak of thy testimonies before kins^s^ and wiU not he ashamed: and we will proportion these articles, not to that extent to which they naturally go, but to the bounds prescribed to these exercises. I. The authors^ or as we just now called them, the executioners who inflict this punishment, are to be considered. The text calls them kings; I will speak of thy testimonies before kings. What kings does the psalmist mean? Saul, to whom piety was become odious ? or any particular heathen prince, to whom the persecutions of Saul sometimes drove The Moral Martyr. 409 our prophet for refuge ? The name of the God of the Hebrews was blasphemed among these barbatir ans; his worship was called superstition by them; and it would have been difficult to profess to fear him and avoid contempt. It is not easy to determine the persons intended by the psalmist, nor is it necessary to confine the words to either of the senses given ; they may be taken in a more extensive sense. The word king ia the eastern languages, as well as in those of the west^* ern world, is not confined to kings properly so call* ed ; it is sometimes given to superiors of any rank Ask not the reason of this, every language hath its own genius, and custom is a tyrant who seldom con* suits reason before he issues orders ; and who gene- rally knows no law but self-will and caprice. If you insist on a direct answer to your inquiry concehiing the reason of the general use of the term, I reply, the same passion for despotism which animates kings en a throne, usually inspires such individuals as are a little elevated above people around them; they consider themselves as sovereigns, and pretend to re- gal homage. Authority over inferiors begins this imaginary royalty, and vanity finishes it. Moreov- er, such as are called petty gentry in the world, are generally more proud and absolute than real kings ; the last frequently propose nothing but to exercise dominion, but the first aim both to, exercise domin- ion and to make a parade of tlie exerqise, lest their imaginary grandeur should pass unnoticed. I understand, then, by the vague term kings^ aU who have any pre-eminence over the lowest orders yoi,. IV. 52 410 The Moral Martyr. Af men, and these are they who exercise tyrannj % and inflict the martyrdom for which the prophet in the text prepares us. In order to comprehend this more fiillv, contrast two conditions in the life of David. Remark first the state of mediocrity, or rather hap- py obscurity in which thi? holy man was born. Ed- ucated by a father, not rich, but pious, he was reli* ^ous from bis childhood. As he led a country life, he met with none of those snares among his! cattle which the great world sets for our innocence. He gave full scope without restraint to his love for Gqd, and could ajBKnn, without hazarding any thing, (bat God was supremely lovely. What a contrast! This fihepberd was suddenly called to quit bis sheep and bis fields, and to live with courtiers in the palace of a prince. What a society for a man accustomed to regulate his conversation by the laws of truth, and bis conduct by those of virtue ! What a place was this for him to propose those just and beautiful prin- ciples which the Holy Spirit teaches in the Scrip- tures, and which are many of them to be found in the writings of the psalmist! "I have seen the wick- ed in f>ower, and spreading himself like a green bay- tree; yet he passed away, and lo, he w^as not: I sought hiin, but he could not be found. Surely men of high degree are a lie; to be laid in the balance they are altogetlier lighter than vanity. — I said, ye are gods, and all of, you are children of the most High; but ye shall die like men. — ^Put not your trust in a prince, in whom there is no help. His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth, in that very day his thoughts perish. He that mleth his The Moral Martyr. 411 spirit, is better than he that taketb a city. My son, the son of my womb, the son of my vows, give not thy strength unto women, nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings. It is not for kings, O Lem- uel, to drink wine, nor for princes strong drink, lest they drink, and forget the law, and pervert the judg- ment of any of the afflicted.'' How would these maxims be received at some of your courts ? They ^vere not very pleasing at that of Saul ; David was, therefore, censured by him and his courtiers for pit>- posing them. Hear how he expressed himself in this p&alm. "O Lord! remove from me reproach and contempt. Princes did «it, and speak against ine, because thy servant did meditate in thy stat-. utes. The proud have had me greatly in derisioji ; yet have I not declined from thy law," PsaL cxix. 22, 23, 51. II. Let us pass to the second article, and consider the magnanimity oi sxich as expose themselves to this martyrdom. This is naturally included in the for- mer remark, concerning the executioners who in- flict the punishment. My brethren, it is impossible to speak of the. testimonies of God before the ty- rants in question without being accused either of a spirit of rebellion, aversion to social pleasures, or rusticity and pedantry ; three dispositions which the great seldom forgive. The martyr for morality is sometimes taxed with a spirit of rebellion. Perhaps you may have thought I spoke extravagantly, when I affirmed, that most men consider themselves as kings in regard to their inferiors. I venture, however, to affirm a greater 412 J%e Moral Martjfr. paradox still ; that is, tiiey consider themselves as gods, and demand such homage to be paid to their &ncied divinity as is due to none but the true God. I grant, great men do not all assume the place of God with equal arrogance. There are not many Pharoahs who adopt this brutal language, '' Who is the Lord, that I should obey bis voice ?" Exod. v. 2. There are but few Sennacheribs who are so extravagant as to say to the people of God, " Beware lest Hezeki- ah persuade you, saying, The Lord will deliver us. Hath any of the gods of the nations delivered his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria ? Where ajre the gods of Hamath and Arphad? Where are the gods of Sepharvaim ?'• Isa. xxxvi. 18^ 19. But, though the great men of the world do not always assume the place of God with so mucb bru- tal insolence, yet they do assume it. Though they do not say to their inferiors in so many words. Obey %is^ rather than God, yet do they not say it in effect ? Is it possible to oppose their fancies with impunity? Is it safe to establish the rights of God in their pre- sence? What success liad Elijah at the court of Ahab ? Micaiah at that of Jehosbaphat ? John the baptist at that of Herod ? We need not go back to remote times. What success have we had among you, when we have un- dertaken to allege the rights of God in some circum- stances ? For example, when we have endeavoured to convince you, that to aspire to the office of a judge, without talents essential to the discbarge of it, is to incur the guilt of all the unjust sentences that may be pronounced ; that to dull the under- The Moral Martyr. 413 standing by debauchery, to drown reason in intem- perance, to dissipate the spirits by sensual pleasures^ when going to determine questions which regard the lives and fortunes of mankind, is to rob men of their property, and to plunge a dagger into their bosoms; that to be so absorbed in forming public treaties, and in the prosperity of the state, as to lose sight of the interests of religion, is equal to placing hope in the present life, and renouncing all expectation of a life to come ; that to render one's self inaccessible to the solicitations of widows and orphans, while We fill offices created for their service, is to usurp hon- ours for the sake of emoluments ; that to sufier the publication of scandalous books, and tlie practice of public debauchery, under pretence of toleration and liberty, is to arm God against a state, though stales subsist only by his protection. Let us not repeat forgotten grievances, let us not, by multiplying these objects, run the hazard of increasing the number of ai^uments which justify our proposition. 7a speak lof the testimonies of God h^ore kings, is to expose one'fi self to a charge of rebellion, and to Quch pun* ishments as ought to be reserved for real incendia- ries and rebels. 2. As the great men of the world would have us .respect their rank, so they are equally jealous of iheic pleasures ; and, most men forming maxims of pleasure more or less lax according as their rank is more or less eminent, licentiousness grows along with credit and fortune. A man, who made a scru- ple of being absent from an exercise of religion, when he ^could hardly provide bread for the day, 414 T%e Moral Martyr. halh not even attended the Lord's supper since he became master of a thousand a yean A man whose conscience would not sufier him to frequent some companies, when he walked a-foot, is become a sub- scriber to public gaming houses now he keeps a car- riage. A man who would have blushed at immodest language in prirate life, keeps, without scrujrfe, a prostitute, now he is become a public man. Lift your eyes a litUe higher, lift them above metaphor*** ical kings^ and look at kings propc^rly so called. Adultery, incest, and other abominations more fit for beasts than men ! what am I saying ? abomina- tions to which beasts never abandon themselves, and of which mm only are capable, are not these abom- inations considered as sports in the palaces of soiirie princes? This is what I said, licentiousness increases with credit and fortune. The maxims which men fonn concerning pleasures> are more or less loose, according as their rank is more or less eminent. In general, that detachment from the world which reli- gion proposes to produce in our hearts, that spirit of repentance with which it aims to inspire us, those images of death which it perpetually sets before us, those plans of felicity disengaged from matter, to which it invites us ; all these ideas are tasteless to the great ; we cannot propose them amidst their in- toxicating pleasures without being considered as ene- mies of pleasure, as scourges to society. 3. When we speak of the testimonks of Gody be- fore the great, we are taxed with rusticity and ped- antry. There is among men, a misnamed science, without which we cannot appear in the great world; The Moral Martyr. 415 it is called politeness, or good breeding. This sci- ence consists in adopting, at least in feigning to adopt, all the passions and prejudices of the greats in taking such forms as they like, in regulating ideas of right and wrong by their caprice, in condemning whiat they condemn, and in approving what they ^p^ prove. In one word, politene^, in the style of tlie great, is that suppleness which keeps a man always prepared to change his system of morality and i^ ligion accordkig to their fancies. Not to have this disposition, to have invariable ideas, and invariable objects of pursuit, to be inconvertible in religion^ to have the laws of God always before our eyes, or^at the scripture speaks, to rvaJk be/ore Aim, is, in styie of people of the world, to have no breeding, to be a bad courtier, to be possessed with that kind of fol- ly which renders it proper for us, though not to be confined with lunatics, yet to be banished from the company of people of birth and quality, as they call themselves, and to be stationed in closets and cells* III. Thus we have seen both the executioiiei:8» who punish morality with martyrdom, and the mag* naniiuity which exposes a man to the punishment ; and these are suiBcient to expose our third article, the horrors that accompany it. I have no ideas suf- ficiently great of the bulk of my auditors to engage me to be veiy exact in expounding this third article. I'fear, were I to enlarge on this part of my subject, I should raise insurmountable obstacles to the end which I siiould propose in opening the sutyect. For- give an opinion so inglorious to your piety, but too Avell adjusted to the imperfections of it. We dare 416 The Moral Martyr. not form such a plan for you as Jesus Christ formed for St Paul, n'ben speaking of this new proselyte to Ananias, he told him, *' I will shew him, how great things he must suffer for my na^me's sake," Acts ix. 16. Martyrdom for doctrines, I grant, seems at first more shocking than martyrdom for morality ; but, taken all together, it is perhaps less insupportable. To die for religion is not always the worst thing in Ihe calling of a christian. Virtue wakes up into vigour in these circumstances, and renders itself invincible by its efforts. Even world* ly honour sometimes comes to embolden. That kind of heroism which is attributed to a man making such a splendid sacrifice, supports under exquisite torments. There is another kind of suffering, longer and more fatiguing, and therefore more diflScult. It is a profession, a detail, a trade of suffering, if I may express myself so. To see one's self called to live among men whom we are always obliged to contradict upon subjects for which they discover the greatest sensibility ; to be excluded from all (heir pleasures ; never to be admitted into their company, except when they are under afflictions and restraints ; to hear one's looks and habits turned into ridicule^ as they said of the prophet Elisha, " He is an hairy man, and girt with a girdle of leather about his loins,*' 2 Kings i. 8. What a punishment ! Men who have withstood all the terrors of racks and dungeons, have yielded to the violence of this kind of persecution and martyrdom. We will not be insensible of the frailty of our auditors, and, therefore, we will omit a The Moral Marfyt. 419 discussion of the acute and horrid pains of this kkid of martyrdom. IV. We are to treat, fourthly, of the obligation of speaking of the testimonies of God before kingl We ground this on the nature of this duty. Tou have heard, that it consists in urging the rights of God be* fore great men ; and, though it be at the hazard of all the comforts and pleasures of life, in professing to respect the moral part of religion. We do not mean an unseasonable and indiscreet manner of doinsr so. The duty of confessing Jesus Christ before tyrants, in regard to his doctrines, hath its bounds ; and so hath that of confessing his morality. There was more enthusiasm than true zeal in such ancient con« fessors as voluntarily presented themselves before persecutors, and intrigued for the glory of martyr* dom. So, in regard to the present subject, in our opinion, it is not requisite we should intrude into the company of the great to reprove them, when we have reason to believe our rebukes would be injurious in ourselves, and contribute nothing to the glory of re^ ligion. All the actions of a christian should be di* rected by prudence. We only expect you should never blush for the precepts of your great Lawgiver, never contribute, by mean adulation, or profound silence, to the violation of them; in short, that you would openly profess to fear God always when your profession is likely to convince a sinner, or to con- vert a saint. This duty carries its own evidence along with it Let us here compare the doctrines of religion with the precepts of it. The precepts of religion are qt VOL. IV. 53 4l« The Mwdl Martyr. essential as the doctrines ; and religion will as ceis tainly sink if the morality be subverted, as if the thie- ology be undermined. Moreover, doctrines are absolutely useless without morality, and the doctrines of religion are only proposed to us as grounds of the duties of it. The first doctrine of religion, the foundation of all the rest, is, that there is only one God; but why doth God require us to admit the doctrine of his unity ? It is that we may not divide supreme love, the character of supreme adoration, between the supreme Being and creatures ; for on this subject it is said. Thou shall lave the Lord thy God with all thine heart. Now were I to deny this second proposition, we ought not to divide between God and any creature that love which is the essence of supreme adoi-ation, should I be a less odious apos- tate than if I denied the fii-st ? One of the most essen-^ tial points of our divinity is, that there is a future state* But why doth God i-equire us to believe a future state I It is that we should regard the present life as the least considerable period of our duration. If then I deny this practical proposition, the present life is the least considerable part of our duration, am I an apostate less odious than if I deny this proposition of speculation, there is a future state ? We say the same of all other doctrines. If it be the duty of a christian to confess the doc- trines of religion, and if a simple genuflexion, and the offering of one grain of incense, be acts of der nial of these truths of speculation, I ask, Are not one act of adulation, one smile of approbation, one gesture of acquiescence, also acts of denial in re- *l^ gard to practical truths ? Most certainly. In times The Moral Martyr. 419 of persecution it was necessary to lift up the stand- ard of Jesus Christ, to confess him before Herod and Pilate, and before ail who took these persecu- tors of (he church for their examples. In like man- ner, while the church enjoys the most profound peace, if innocence be oppressed, if we see modes- ty attacked, if we hear the sophisms of sin, we must learn to say, each in his proper sphere, I am a chris- tian, I hate calumny, I abhor oppression, I detest profaneness and licentiousness, and so on. The further you carry this comparison of martyr- dom for doctrines with martyrdom for duties, the tnore fully will you perceive, that the same reasons which establish the necessity of the fii'st, confirm that of the last, and that apostates from morality arc no less odious than those from divinity. Let us for a moment examine what makes the first martyrdom necessary, I mean that for doctrines. Some reasons regard tlie believers themselves. Our attachment to the religion of Jesus Christ may be doubtful to our- selves, before we suffer for it. Martyrdom is a trial of this attachment. " Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you/' I Pet. iv. 1 2. Some regard the spectator s^ in whose presence God. calls his children to suffer for religion. Christians have made more disciples to the true re- ligion, by suffering persecution, than tyrants liai%: taken from It by persecuting. This is a secofid rjer of martyrdom. A martyr may say, wilij \m tfirjK Master, '^ I, if I be lifted up, wiU draw atlJ mes m^- to me," John xii. 32L Some of tbenc; reMuot regsf^ / he honour of religi4m^ frir Miielt Cat over- cometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with ray Fath- er in his throne," Rev. iii, 20, 21. Happy you, if you be accessible to such noble motives ! Happy we, if we be able to say to God, in that solemn day in which he will render to every one according to his works, I have preached righteousness in the great con- gregation. Loy I have not refrained my lips, O Lord, thou knofvest I have not hid thy righteousness nilhin my heart, I have declared thy failhfidness and thy salva* tion, I have not concealed thy loving kindness ! With- hold not thou thy tender mercies from me, O Lord 1 God grant us this grace. Amen. AN ESSAY ON THE CONDUCT OF DAVID AT 7HK COURT OP ACHISH KING OF GATH, IN A LETTER OF MR. DUMONT, JPattor of the Fretich Church at Rotterdam^ and Profsuair of the Oriental Languaget, and EccleiUutical JBRafry^ TO MR. SAURIN AT THE HAGUE. TRANSLATSD BY ROBERT ROBINSON. SCHEJSTECTADT : BUBLI8HED BY WILLIAM J. M'CARTEE. J3. U E. Botford^PrinierO'-^bafMf. 1813. TOL. rv. ^54 ADVERTISEMEKT. GABRIEL DUMONT, author of the foUowi^ esa^y, tras bom at Crest, in Dauphiny, August 19 th, 1680, aad died at Rot-' terdam, January 1st, 1748, He was a refugee for religion, and was pastor of the Waloon church at Rotterdam^ and professpr of the Oriental languages and Ecclesiastical history, ^e, pubBshe4 nothing himself during liis life ; but* after his decease, Mr. Su- perville, his colleague, published, with a short preface, po/^ volume of his sermons,, containing twelve discour9es9 the most plain, artless, and edifying that I have ever ha4 the happiness ^f •reading ; not so disputatious as those of Amyraut, not sa grave a^ those of Superville, not so stiff as those of Torne and Bourda- joue, not so far-fetched and studied as those of Massillon, nor so charged with colouring as those of Saurin ; but placid, ingenious, gentle, natural, and full of evidence and pathos : just as wisdom from above should be, fiure^ peaceable^ mild-^ull of mercy and goodfru%t9-»»80vm infieace to make fieaee^ James iii. 17, 18. The public owe this volume to Mademoiselle de Heuqueville, the pious patroness and friend of the author, who had, as it were, extorted them from him before his death. Mr. Saurin, who published this essay in his dissertations on the Bible, says, " I follow our version, and the general sense of inter- preters. A learned man, (Mr. Dumont) has investigated the subject at large, and if he doth not furnish us with demon- strations in fiivour of the system he proposes, yet his conjectures are so full of erudition, and so very probable, th^t we cannot help admiring them, while we feel an inclination to dispute them.'* For my part, I own, if I may venture a conjecture, I think Mr. Dumont has placed his opinion in a light both beautiful, and, in a very high degree probable. To sum up his meaning, he would read the passage thus : ADVERTISEMENT, 1 SABhiEL, chap. xxi. Ver. 10. And David fled that day for fear of Saul, and went to Achish, the king of Gath. 1 1. And the servants of Achish said unto him, Is not this David, the king of the land ? did they not sing one to another of him in dances, saying, Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands ? 12. And David was struck to the heart with these words, and was sore afraid of Achish, king of Gath. 13. And he changed countenance before them, and fell con- vulsed into their hands; and he hurt and marked himself against the posts of the gate, and he frothed on his beard. 14. Then said Achish untqhis servants, Lo, you see the man is epileptic z wherefore then have ye brought him unto me ? 15. Have I need of epileptics, that ye have brought this man to fell into convulsions in my presence ? Shall this fellow come into my house ? An ESSAY ON THE CONDUCT OF DAVID AT THE COURT OF ACHISH KING OF GATH. Sir, jL may venture to call the letter I have the hon- our to write you, " An apology for the conduct of David at the court of king Achish," for my design is to prove three Ihings: First, That if David had counterfeited madness on the occasion mentioned in the twenty-first chapter of the first book of Samuel, he would not have committed any sin. Secondly, That David did not feign himself mad, as is generally sup- posed. And thirdly. That this heir apparent to the crown of Israel, had not, at the court of Gatb, the least degree of madness, either real or feigned. I. If you were a man who decided a point of mo- rality by human authority, f might allege, in favour of this first article, the following distich of Cato, Insipiens esto, cum tempus postulat, aut res ; Stultitiam simularc loco, prudentia sumtna est. ( r« ^1) Distichade moribus, lib. ii. Dist. 18* 430 Dmias supposed Madness. • Independently of this author, of whom we hardly know either the true name, the religion, the country, or the age, every body will allow that there is a good deal of wisdom required to play the fool properly. Madness is no sin, it is a disease of the mind, or ra- ther of the brain. David, it is to be observed, du^ ring his pretended madness, said nothing criminal. He did a few apparent acts of a person insane. Why might he not be allowed to free himself from immi-' nent danger by this prudent dissimulation ? To treat of this question fully and accurately, it would be ne- cessary to go to the bottont of the subject, and ex- amine the grounds and principles of the obligations men are under to speak and act sincerely to one an- other. It might not be improper to investigate thkt matter by enquiring, whether, in this reciprocal en- gagement, there be any difference between deceiving by words known and agreed on between mankinc^ and misleading, by actions, the natural signs of (he sentiments of our hearts. Particularly, it should be examined, whether there be no cases in which this kind of contract is in a sort suspended, and whether David were not in one of these cases, in which he was not obliged so to act, as to convey to king Achish his true and real sentiments. But as I know, sir, you have examined this subject in the case of Samuel, I will confine myself to two arguments, supported by a few facts, relative to the conduct attributed to Da- vid, in order to justify him. First, His life was in danger ; and will not a man give all that he hath for his life ? Have we not a right to do every thing except sin to avoid death ? Blame, Dmid^^ ^Ullffased MadneiS. 431 and welcome, Ibe cruel policy of Diooystus of Sir cily (2), who sometiaies spread a report that \» ^as skk, and sometimes Ibat be bad been aagassina'- ted by hie soldiers, with a design to discover, by th^ unguarded conversation of his subjects, bow they stood afiected to bis government, that he tai^bt have a pretence for proscribing such as were ill affected to bis despotism. Censure, if you please, the king of Ithaca, and the astronomer Meton (3) for pretend- ing to have lost their senses, the first for the sake of continuing with bis dear Penelope, and the last to avoid accompanying tb6 Athenians in an expedition against Sicily. Pity, if you will, the two monks Si- meon and Thomas (4), who affected to play the fool, lest the extraordinary holiness of their lives should not be perceived. I freely give up these tyrants and hypocrites to (he most severe criticism ; and I am inclined to be of the opinion of Cicero (5), who calls (he finesse of Ulysses, non honesium consiKwny a disingenuous conduct. Form, if you think proper, the same opinion of the stratagem of the famous St. Epbraim (6), who, understanding that be was chosen bjs}K>p, and that they were going to force bim to be ordained, raninto a public place, walked irregularly, let fall bis robe, went eating along the streets, and did so many actions of this kind, that every body thought be had lost his senses. He watched bis up- (2) Polyaenus Stratag. 1. v. cap. 2. S. 15, 16. (3) iClian variar. historiar. libu xiii. cap. 13. (4) Evagrius. Hist. Eccles. lib. iv. cap. 34. (5) Cic. de officiis. lib. iii. cap. 96. (6) Sozomen Hist. EccL lib. iiL cap. 1*6. 432 Dirndls suppovft Madness. portunity, fled and concealed himself, and continued to do thus till they bad nominated another bishop. I will not pretend to say whether this proceeded from his contempt of vain glory, as Sozomen (7) pretends, or from his great love of retirement, for he was irpxiiti tt$ Mytif f^«rr«$. For my part,! make no scruple to say of this artifice, as well as of the trick be played ApoUinaris (8), non honestum consilium. But you, sir, who are such a good citizen, will you condemn the wise Solon (9) for counterfeiting dis- traction, in order to divert his fellow*citizens of Athens from their resolution to abandon Salamin his country to the inhabitants of Megara ? You, sir, who are no enemy to prudence, wilt you disapprove the opinion given of Lucius Junius Brutus (10), Brutus erat stulti sapiens imitator. He affected to be stupid, lest he should become sus- pected by Tarquin the proud, who had put to death his father and his eldest brother, for the sake of seiz- ing their great wealth. It should seem, that on sup- position David acted a part when he was in danger of his life, in a place where he had fled for refuge, it would be a sufiicient justification of his character to say, that he thought he might innocently make use of such a stratagem. ^. If tlie danger of losing his life be not sufficient,, let it be observed further*, that the deception was di- (7) Sozomeii ibid. (8) Greg, de Nyssen Paneg. de S. Ephr.' (9) Diogenes Laert lib. i. in Solone. { 10) Dion, Halicarn. Xntiquitat. Rojnan. lib. iv. > JXamPs si^postd Madneis, 433 rected to the Philistines, with whom the Israelites were then at wan This is a second argument to justify the conduct of David. When was it ever un- lawful io use stratagems in war? Did not God bim" self order the Israelites to lie in ambush and to fke before the inhabitants of Ai, in order to draw them from the city ? Is there any less evil in affecting cowardice than there is in pretending to be depriv* ed of reason ? Where is the general, who would not be glad to take cities at the same price as Callicratidas of Cyrene (11) took the fort of Mag- nesia, by intix)ducing four soldiers, who pretended to be sick ? You have observed, sir^ in Buchan- an's excellent history of Scotland (12), the man- ner in which king Duncan defeated the army of Swen king of Norway, who was besieging him in Perth. He sent the besiegers a great quantity of wine and beer, in which some herbs pf noxious qualities had been infused, and while this soporific was taking effect, he went into the camp, and/ put the whole army to the sword, except the prince of Norway, and ten soldiers, who had suspected the present made them by the enemy, and had not tasted the beverage. The herb is supposed to be the sota- num^ or strychnos of Pliny (13), the night-shade, which in a certain quantity stupififes, in a greater quanti- (11) Polyaenus Stratag. lib. ii. cap. 27, S, 1. (12) Buchanani Hist. Scotica. — Rem. This tale is not credited by some historians, and indeed it appears highly improbable in it* self. Mr. Guthrie calls it an in&muus and improbable story.^- Hist. of Scot. Vol. I. p. 234. (13) Plin. Hist. Nat. lib. xxi. cap. 31.— .Salmas* ad Solin. p« 1086. VOL. IV. 55 ii4 Daviits supposed Madness. \y distracts, and if more than two drachms, c&oses death. For these two reasons, then, I conclude that my first proposition is siiSiciently clear. I said, if David had coimtcrfeited madness, and played the iool, he would not have committed any sin ; first, because his life was in danger ; and secondly, be- cause the Philistines were at war with his country. * II. If any continue obstinatefy to mia*intain, that ihe dissimulation of David was criminal, and oppositer to sinceiity and good faith, I have another string to my bow, to defend this illustrious refugee. I affirm, that David did not play the fool, and act a part; but that, being seized with extreme fear at hearing the convci^ation of the ministers of state, in the court of • king Achfsh, he fell under a real absence of mind, and behaved, in a few instances, like a man disor- dered in his senses. Sebastian Schmidt (14), a cele- brated Lutheran divine, proposed as a kind of pro- blem, whether providence might not permit David to be terrified into a momentary delirium, in order to effect his deliverance. Mr. John Cliristian Ortlob,a learned man of Leipsic (15) published a dissertation, in* 1 706, on the delirium of David before Adiishy in which he shews, that the whole of the sacred text in Samuel natmally leads us to judge that David was so struck with the fear of sudden death, that for a few moments his understanding was absent. As this thesis is little known in this country, and as it is cu- rious in itself, you will Hot be displeased, Sir, if I give you here a sketch of what he says, (14) D. Scbast. Schmidius in 1 Sam. xxi; (15) Davidis delirium coram Achis. Lipsiae, 1706. 4. pag. 24.. ikmd^s supposed Madness. 43$ 1. Mr. Ortlob shews, that dissimulation was ini^ practicable in David's condition. Either he affected to play the fool the moment he was seized by the servants of the king, or only while he was in the presence of A<^hish. The text is contrary to the first, for it expressly assures us that this madness of David was in consequence of the conversation that passed between Achish and his officers in the pres- ence of David. The second supposition is not at aH likely, for it would have been very imprudcmt for him to begin to act his part in the presence of Acbisb, his officers would have discbfiered the artifice, and would haTe kiformedtbeir master : beside, it is in- conceivable that David should continue from his being first taken to that moment as mute as a fish, in order to conceal a design which required a state of mind more tranquil than that of David could be, in a danger so imminent 2. Next, Mr. Ortlob proceeds to prove, that David had a true and natural alienation of mind. \ The first proof is, his fear of danger. David, says the twelflh verse, laid up the words in his heart, and was sore afraid of Achishy the king of Gath. The terror that seized his soul alSected the organs of his body, and disconcerted the fibres of his brain. There are many examples of persons afiected in like manner with sudden fear. Our learned author re- lates the case of a girl of t«n years of age (16), whd was so terrified with thunder and lightning in a furi- ous tempest, that she was seized with violent convul- ^ -(-16) Ephemer. Med. Phys. Germ. Arademije curiosorum, Ad. A, Observ. 71. 43d Simid^$ stipposed Madniks. sions in ber left arm and her left le^. Though she did not lose her senses, yet she was constrained to flee on the other foot along the wainscot of Ihe chamber, and the company could not stop her. The next proof is taken from the expressions of the' inspired writer, which, simply and literally ex- plained, signify a real madness. David changed his hehaviowr. It is in the Hebrew bis kM$% that is his reason, for reason is, in man, what taste is in regard to aliments. And he became mad. The Hebrew verb halaly in the conjugation hithpael, as it is here, always signi* fies in scripture real, and not feigned madness ; and there is nothing in the text which obliges us to de^ part from a sense that perfectly agrees with the sim- plicity of the history. The French and English ver- sions render it, he feigned himself mad ; but they are wrong, for the original says nothing ?ihont feigning. He scrqbhled on the doors of the gate. Cornelius a Lapide thinks he wrote the letter tau to form the fig- ure of the cross. Rabbi Schabiai, in a German book entitled Esrim verba (17,) was better informed, and he says David wrote on the gates of the palace. The king owes me a hundred thousand gilders^ and his Jcingdomy fifty ihovsand. Mr. Ortlob, learned as he is, does not know so much as the Rabbi and the Jes- uit. He contents liimself with observing, that Da- vid, all taken up with his dejirium, and having no instrument in bis hand to write, scratched the gate with his fingers, like people in a malignant fever. He obsc 1 ves also, that the indecent manner in whirh (ir) Printed in 1703. JDmrid's^ mj^pjiisti Madbsm. 437 David let his spittle fall danm upon his beard is a nat- ural and usual consequence of a delirium. His third proof is taken from the connection of the whole history^ which supposes and indicates real madness. David changed his behamour ; the sacred author explains first in what this change consisted, it was in becoming mad in the presence of the king and his officers; and he adds two actions of madness, the one scratching and writing on the gates with his fingers, and the other driveling on his beard. The last proof our author takes from the conse- quences. Achish gives David his life and liberty, as a man beneath his resentment. He was angry with those who brought a madman to him. David, on his side, escaped the danger, recovered his spirits, and became himself. There is no reason to question whether he observed the precept given by himself in the thirty-fourth psalm, which he composed, as well as the fifty-sixth, to praise God for his deliverence, keep thy lips from speatdiig guile^ ver. 1 3. My second proposition was, that. David did not feign himself mad, as is usually supposed ; and Mr. Ortlob, in this treatise, hath justified David from the charge of every kind of dissimulation, and so far it gives me pleasure to follow him ; for this is an opin- ion more tolerable than the former, but I must beg leave to dissent from this learned writer, and to state in the next place my own opinion, fori do not think, as Mr. Ortlob does, that David had any degree of madness. III. I think the whole passage ought to be under* stood of an epilepsy, a convulsion of the whole bo- 438 David's stj^pesed Madness. dy, with a loss of sense for the time. Judge, Sir, cyf the reasons on which I ground tljis third propositoa: I. My first reason is taken from the original terms, which perfectly agree' with an epilepsy. This is not easy to discover in our modern versions ; but it is ▼ery plain in the Septuagint, and in the old Latin version, which our interpreters often very injudi- ciously despise. The authors of both these versions were in a better condition than we are, to understand the force and the real signification of Hebrew words and idioms. I am fully persuaded we ought to pre- fer these versions in the present case. Davidj said the sacred historian, changed his be- havityuVy or his taste. The Septuagint reads it j|AA«i«rf 'T* ir^#r«9ro tivi^v, and the VulgatBy immutavit OS jSU- lUMyhe changed his countenance. I think this translation is better than that of Mr. Ortlob, his reason was changed ; because it is added, before thmiy or in their, sighty and in the thirty-fourth psalm, bejore Abimelccby or in his presence. It is well known, that the coun- tenance of a person taken with an epilepsy is sud- denly changed. But ^ould we retain tlie word rea^ «ow, we might with equal justice say, that the reason or the taste is changed in an epileptic fit, because for a fiew nioments reason is absent. 2. Our version adds, he feigned himself mad in tJieir hands. The Septuagint seems to me to have rendered the words much better, srx^et^i^ty f» r»tt- x*s^*^ ccvn^t, He struggled^ or tossed himself in their hands. (For I think the preceding words in this version, in thai day he feignedy is one of those interpolations, which passed from the margin to the text; and that the words, David^s supposed Maditess. 439 sfei t^vf^,1rmft^if t^t t«6#t iv^em rvf ^pxtttr, are of sotne other version, and have got into the text as the for- mer.) The Hebrevr word hakd, is a general term^ which signifies to agitate one's self, to shake, either by twinkling like the stars, or by applauding some one, or by boasting of any thing of our own, which the Latins call jactare,jactare se ; or by moving our- selves involuntarily, as a paralytic man does, or a> madman, or a person in convulsions, or one in ex- cessive joy. The Sepluagint could not translate the word here belter than by wa^m^tftrB-ct4, because TTttfet^opor among the Greeks (18) is put for a distract- ed person, a demoniac, ami because a body irregu- larly and involuntarily agitated is said utttc'^ps^irS-mt. Aristotle (19) uses it in the same sense. Having said that there seetns something in the soul of an in- temperate man beside reason, and opposite to it^ he adds, he is like a paralytic body, the patient aims to move the right hand or the right foot, and the left hand and the left foot move r^vf^fhot et^ r» tt^mpt^ n-af^^sftlmt. The ouly difference is, we- perceive irregular motions of the body, whereas^ those of the soul are invisible. The Vulgate translates in a manner more favourable still to my opinion, et coUabebatur inter manvs eonum^ he fell into their hands. The term cdlabi^ as well as cadere, and corruere^ are applied to the epilepsy, which the Hebrews, likens, called ihe fdUiiig sick- ness. All these Latin words may be seen in this (18) Phavorinus in voce wm^mf%^9^, (19) Aiistot. Ethicor. ad Ni€oniaGhutn, lib. L cap« 13^ 440 Vamd'^ stgpposed MadmsB. sense in tlie first apology of Apuleius (19.) He addresses himself to ^milianus, his adversary, to justify himself from the accusation of having be- witched one Tballus, who was fallen extremely ill with an epilepsy. Imo si verum velis, j^i^miliane, tu potius coJticti^ qui jam tot calumniis, cecidisti, ne- que enim gravius est corpore quam corde coUabi^ pede potius quam mente corruercy in cubiculo des- pui, quam in isto splendidissimo csetu detestari. 3. And he marked the posts of the gates. This is the version of the late Mr. Martin^ but allow me to lay aside all the versions of our modern divines, and even those of the most celebrated Rabbies, and to abide by my Septiiagint and Vulgate. The Septu- agint renders it ««i f »<«-7f » •«•< rnr 5»f »$ t»« irvA«f , and the Vulgate saith, et impingebat in ostia portcty ^nd he hurt himself y or he dashed himself against the posts of the gale. Munsler (20) pretends indeed that the Latin interpreter first wrote, el pingebat in ostiapor- te, and that it was afterwards changed into impinge- bat ; but though this ingenious conjecture hath been adopted by able critics, yet it seems to me futile, be- cause on the one hand the Vulgate evidently follows,, the Sepluagint, and on the other, because the Latin interpreter would have contradicted himself, collabt- baltir inter mantis eorum, et pingebat in ostiaportay if he fell into their liands how could he write, or scratch with his fingers on the gate or the door? Nor is it ne- cessary with the celebrated Lewis Capel (21) to sup- (19) Apuleius Apol. pro se ipso prima. (20) Munsterus in h. 1. in criticis magnis. — See Bayle. Achisli Rem. C, (21) L. Capellus cvilicje sacrae libro. iv. cap. 5. S. 3;>. DamTs swjppo^td Madness. 441 pose the change of a letter, and to say that the Sep- tuagint reads V€fjaioph, instead of vajetau. The verb iava signifies to markyio make an impression or some print with the hand, or an instrument, and to shake, and make the body tremble where the mark is im- printed. David was violently hurt against the posts of the gate, so that marks were left in his flesh. This signification of the verb is agreeable to the Chaldean language, in which teva signifies to trend- ble, to shiver, and in the Arabic, where the same root signifies to be troubled or astonished. 4. King Achish uses another word, which modem translations render fool, madman. Loy you see the man is mad. Have I need of madmen^ and so on. The Septuagint, which I follow step by step, and the authors of which understood Hebrew better than we^ translates it, ^^%v thrt mf^^m tirtxn^i$f nndso on: Why have you brought this man ? Do you not see that te is attacked with an epilepsy ? Have I need of epilep- HcSy that you have brought him to fall into convvdr sions in my presence ? This single testimony of the Septuagint ought to determine this question. 2. My second class of arguments is taken from the scope of thejiplace, and I think, even supposing the original terms were as favourable to the idea of folly or madness as they are to that of an epilepsy, yet we should be more inclined to the latter sense than to the former. 1. First, If there be some examples of persons frighted into folly or madness, there are more of per- sons terrified into an epilepsy. Among the various causes of this sickness, the author of a book on the voii. IV. 56 442 David's supposed Madness. subject, supposed to be Hippocrates (22) batb given sudden fright as one. It would be needless to roultir ply prop& when a sorrowful experience daily gives us so many ! but T recollect one instance of. the ^al of St. Barnard (23), which deserves to be related, I do not say to be applauded. William the Xth Duke of Aquitain, and Count of Thoulouse, declared him- se]f against Innocent the lid in favour of Peter de Leon, an anti-pope, who had taken the name of An- acletus the lid. The Duke had driven the Bishops of Poictiers, and of Limoges, from their sees. St. Barnard was sent into Guienne to engage him to re- concile himself to the holy see, and to re-establish the two bishops, but he could not prevail with bim to be reconciled to the bishop of Poictiers. While they were talking at the church gate, St. Barnard went up to the altar and said mass. Having conse- crated tlie hojjt, and pronounced the I)enediction on the people, he took the body of the Lord in a patine, and going out with a countenance on fire, and with (22) Hippocrates ^i^i te^ec^ lerev. T. ii. S. xi. page. 336. (23) Vita Sancti Bernaixli. lib. ii. cap. 6. n. 38. Rogavimus to, et sprcvisti nos, supplicavit tibi in altero» quam jam tecum habu- imiis, conventu scrvorum Dei ante te adunata multitudo, ct con- tempFisti. Ecce ad tc processit filius virginis, qui est caput ct Dominus ccclcsix, quam tu persequcris. Adest Judex tuus, in cujus nomine omnc genu curvatur caelestium, terrestrium et in- fcrnorum. Adest vindex tuus, in cujus manu ilia anima tua de- vcniet. Nunquid et ipsum spemes? Nunquid et ipsum sicut servos ejus contemnes ? Elcvatus a militibus, rursum, in faciem ruit, nee quippiam aii- cni loqucns, aut intcndcns in aliquem, salivis in barbam dcfluentU his, cum profundis cfflatis gemitibus, e^ikfiticua videbatur DavUPs supposed 3kidne$Si ^JMS eyes in a flame, he. addressed with a threatening ah: these terrible words to the Duke : " We have itt- treated yon, but yoq have deiBpised us. In a former interview a great number of the servants of God be-- sought you, and you treated them with Contempt. Behold, now the Son of the Virgin comes to you, the bead and lord of the church you persecute. Behold your judge, at whose name every knee in heaven, earth, and hell, bow. Behold the avenger of yout crimes, into whose hand, sooner or later, your stubborn >soul shall fall. Have you the hardiness to despise him?' And will you contemn the master as you have done the servants ?" The spectators were all dissolved in tears, and the count himself, unable to bear the sight of the abbot, who addressed him with so much vehe- mence, and who held up to him all the while the body of the Lord, fell, all shaking and trembling, to tlie earth. Being raised up by his soldiers, he fell back again, and lay on his face, saying nothing and look- ing at nobody, but uttering deep groans, and letting his spittle fall down on his beaixl, and discovering all the signs of a person convulsed in an epilepsy. St. Barnard approached, pushed him with his foot, com- manded him to rise, and to st^nd up and hear the decree qf God. ** The bishop of Poictiers, whom you have driven from his church, is here ; go and reconcile yourself to him ; and by giving him a holy kiss of peace become friendly, and reconduct him yourself to his see. Satisfy the God you have of- fended, render him the glory due to hia name, and recal all your divided subjects into the unity of faith and love. Submit yourself to pope Innocent; and 444 DwMb supposed Madne$$i as all the church obeys hiin, resign yourself to this eminent pontiff chosen by God himself." At these words the count ran to the bishop^ gaye him the kiss of peace, and re-establistjed him in his see. 2. I return, sir, from this digression, which k not quite foreign to my subject, to observe, in the second place, that the sacred historian attributes to David the three characteristical marks of the falling sickness, falling, convulsion, and frothing : FaJKngy for it is said he fell iriio the hands of the officers of the king ; canvvlsicn, for he hurt himself against the pasts cf the gate : and frothing^ for he let fall his spUOe vpon his heard. These are symptoms, which Isidore of Seville gives of an epilepsy (24), cujus tanta vis est, lit homo valens concidaly spumetque,. We may see the cause, or at least what physicians say of it, in the work of Hippocrates just now quoted, in the posthumous works of Mr. Manjot, and in all treatises of pathological physic. The manner in which Hip- pocrates explains the symptom of froth seems very natural, »^/»«t; h t% r.v s-^M^lci, &;c. The froth, that comes out of the mouth, proceeds from the lungs, which, not receiving any fresh air, throw up little bubbles, like those of a dying man. 3. The horror of king Achish concerning the condition of David, is a third reason, which confirms our opinion. You secj said this prince to his officers, this man is epileptic^ shall such a man come into my house. And he drove him away^ as it is said in the title of the thirty-fourth psalm. According to the (24) Isidor, Ilispaliensis originum lib. iii. cap; T. De chronicisi gaorbi&j voce Epilepsia, p. 33. Col. A. lit. c. Hippocrat. ut supra. Ihmd's supposed Maiintss. 4ti^ cofimion oiHoion, David feigned hitoiself a natural, a fool, not a madman : he did actions of imbecility, and silliness, not of madness and fury. Now the ancientSi far from having any aversion to this sort of fools, kept them in their palaces to make diversion. Tarquio the proud kept Lucius Junius Brutus in bis family less as a relation, of whom he meant to take care, than as a fool to please his children by absurd discourses and ridiculous actions. Anacharsis, who lived about three hundred years after David, could not bear this custom of the Greeks. This wise Scythian said, '* Man was a thin^ too serious to be destined to a usage so ridiculous (25)/' Seneca in one of his let* ters to Lucilius speaks of a female fool, whom his wife had left him for a legacy, and who had suddenly lost her sight (26). She did not know she was blind, and she was always asking to be let out of a house where she could see nothing. Seneca says that he had a great dislike to this kind of singularities ; that if ever he should take it into his head to divert himself with a fool, he need not go far in search of one, that he would make a fool of himself: and he agreeably compares mankind with their defects to Harpasta the fool of his wife. Every body knows, adds this philosopher (27), ambition is not my vice, but we cannot live otherwise at Rome. I dislike luxury, but to live at a great expence is es- sential to living in this great city ; and so on. Pliny the younger, writing to one of his friends complaiu- (25) Apud Eustathium in Homerum. (26) Senecisi. Epbt. 30. (27) Hoc, quod in ilia videmuS) omnibus nobis accidere liqueat tibi^— Plin. Ep.lib. ix. 17. 44J$ Dirndls supposed Madnessi ed of baring misspent h\& time at an elegant supper througli the impertinence of these fooli^ who inter- rupted convei^sation : he says, that every one bad \A& own whim ; that he had no relish for such absurd- ities ; but that some complaisance was necessary to the taste of our acquaintances. It was not the same with madmen, and particulate ]y epileptics. Every body carefully avoided them, arid thought, to meet them was a bad oinen. Dion Cassius says, the Roman senate always broke up^ when any one of them happened to be taken with an epilepsy, for which reason it was called murbus eom- iliaUs, (28), witness these verses of Serenus Sftn>- inonicus : Est subid species morbi, cui nomen ab illo est, Quod fieri nobis ^uffragia justa recusat : Saepe etenim mcmbris acri languore caducis, Consilium populi labes horrenda diremit. Pliny the elder, (29), who relates the same thing, informs us of another custom, that was, to spit at the r^ight of an epileptic : Despuimus comitiales morbos, hoc est, contagia regerimus ; simili mode et fascina- tiones repercutimus, dextraeque clauditatis accur- sum. There was then as much superstition in this custom as aversion to the illness. Accordingly The- ophrastes hath not forgotten, in his character of a superstitious man, to represent him seized with hor- ror, and spitting at meeting a madman, or an epilep- tic (30). This was so common, and so much con- 28) Dig Cassius. lib. 37. {29) Plin. lib. xxviii. cap. 4. TiO) Theophrastcs Charact. **j< iitrtimfUUu^. 1 Davids suppo^ Mn^bias* 447 fined to AD epilepsy, that it was frequently called the sickness to he fitted at • Thus Flautus, in ifae jpoRiedy of the Capti?es, where Tyndarus, to pre- Tent Hegio from staying with Aristophontes, accu- ses him of being subject to the illness that is spit at (31). In this custom of spitting at the sight of an epilep- tic, I think I have formed a very probable conjec- ture on another famous passage of scripture ; but. Sir, I shall do myself the honour to treat of this in a future letter to you. At present, I avail myself of this custom to explain why Achish discovered so much indignation against his courtiers, and so much disdain for David, and why he drove him so quickly from his palace. 4. In fine, I think, it is easy to see in the thanks- giving psalms, which David composed ajfler he had escaped this imminent danger, several indications of the nature of the illness that had seized him so sud- denly. It is agreed that he composed the thirty^ fouith and the fifty-sixth on thi^ occasion, as the ti- tles assure us, and to them I add the thirty-first and the hundred and sixteenth, concerning which I beg leave to make two remarks. First, that the hundred and sixteenth hath so much connection with the fifty-sixth, and the thirty-first with the hundred and sixteenth, that it is very evi- dent tliese three psalms were composed at the same time, and in view of the same deliverance; with this difierence however, that in the fifty-sixth David con^ (31) Plaut. Capt. Act in. 5lren. 4. ver. 15, kr. morbus qui insputatur. 448 DamPs supposed Madness. fines himself to the malignity of his enemies, to the punishment they might expect, and to his own confi- dence in God, who engaged him to despise all their efforts ; whereas in the thirty-first he expresses more clearly the terror which had been excited in him by the conversation of Achish and his officers, and tbe pi^yers which he had addressed to tbe Lord in his distress. In the hundred and sixteenth he attends more to the success of these prayers, and to the grat- itude he felt for deliverance from his great danger, and to the profound impression which his late situa- tion bad made on his mind. A bare parallel of these three hymns discovers a great resemblance both in sentiment and expression. Compare Psal. IvL verses 5, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14— with cxvi. 8, 12, 13, 17, 14, 18, 8, 9— and cxvi. 1, 2, 3, 11, 16— with xxxi. 23, 24, 3, 10, 11,23, 17. The second observation I make on tbe thirtv-first and hundred and sixteenth psalm is, that they per- fectly agree with the occasion of the two other psalms, and that some passages seem to refer to the supposed epileptic fit. The cause is remarked Psalm xxxi. 10, 11, 14, The effects and consequences are spoken of in the same Psalm, Ter. 12, 13. The con- dition to which the illness had reduced David is de- scribed, Psalm cxvi. 11. — ^Psalm xxxi. 23, (22 in the English version) / said in my hasUy lam cut off from before thine eyes. All men are liars. However the Hebrew word rendered in my haste be translated, ei- ther with the Septuagint in my ecstacy^ or with Sym- machus in my swoon or fainting Jit, or with the old Italian version, in my great dread, or with St. Jerona Damd^s supposed Madness. 449 in mj/ slupefaction (32), either of the senses suppo- ses and confirms my opinion. Suidas explains the word testacy^ which the Septuagint uses here by ^«v^««fb«( ««i «AA«i«ri€. This last word is the sanie as that in the title of the thirty-fourth psalm, where David is said to have changed countenance^ for so I think it should be translated. In regard to the two psalms before mentioned, which were always understood to be composed on this occasion, they both of them furnish a great deal to establish our opinion. In the fifty-sixth psalm, there is averse, the se- venth I mean, which modern interpreters seem not to have well understood. David there, speaking of his enemies, saith, according to our version, Sh4iU they estape hy iniquity ? In thine anger cast down the peopky O God. I think the words may be rendered, without violence to the original, O God, because of their iniquity spue them out, and cast down the people in thine anger (33) ; because the Hebrew word pal- leth, which in the conjugation kcU signifies to escape^ when it is in the conjugation piel signifies to vomity to refect; so the celebrated Rabbi David Kimchi says. Indeed the Chaldee paraphrast (34) uses it in two places in this sense, Lev. xviii. 28, 25. " The land itself vomiteth out her inhabitants — ^That the land spue not you out also, as it spued out the na- tions before you.'* Jon. ii. 10. " The fish vomited out Jonah.*' This word is used in the Talmud, which (32) Hierom, in Epist. 135. (33) Hammonds Annotations on Psal. Ivi. 7. (34) Mag. Lex. Chaldaic. Thalm. et Rabbinicum Buxtorf. in verb, fialleth, TOL. IV. 57 450 Damd's supposed Madnas. . forbids a disciple ever to yomk in the presence of his master ; for, according to this Rabinnical code^f law, he who spits before his master, is worthy of . deatlu According to Mr. d'Arvieux (35), the Ara- bians religiously observe this custom to this day. Among them no man ever spits before his superior, it would be considered as treating them with disre- spect and contempt. The Chaldee paraphrast un- derstood this pealm. m this sense, and rendered the passage thus, Buausc of tht falsehood that is in their handsy spit them, or vomit them out. Now, sir, would it be improper to apply this verse to my explication, and to affirm, that David here manifestly alludes to - two of the symptoms of an epilepsy, which lie him- self had lately experienced ? This holy man prays to God that his enemies might be treated in a man* ner which had some resemblance to the illness they had caused him ; that as tie had frothed and cast out his spittle, so God would spit or vomit them out of . his mouth ; and as he fell to the ground through tlieir hands, bo they miglit be degraded and cast out. Tlie former image is used by an inspired writer, Rev. iii. 16. '' Because thou art lukewarm, I will spue thee out of my mouth." Perhjaps, sir, you will think another o1>servation which I am going to make, not sufficiently solid. David saiUi, while lie is celebrating the delivei*ance God hath granted him, PsaL xxxiv. 20. that ^^th? Lord keepeth all the bones of tlie righteous man, not one of them is broken." It is not worth while to re- fute tlie Jews on this article, for they quote these words in proof of a little bone, which they call luSy (25) La Roquc Voyage dan$ la Palc6tme. p. 140: DamcTs supposed Madness. 451 and which they place in the form of a small almond at the bottom of the back bone. They pretend that David had this bone in view ; that nothing, neither fire, nor water, nor time, can destroy it, and that it is the germ of the resurrection of the body. Probably It was from this Jewish tradition that Peter Lombard (36), the master of the sentences, derived his litUe piece of flesh, which every man inherits from the flesh of Adam, and which renders us all corrupt, and on account of which we are called the children of Adam. Much less will I pretend to dispute the ap* plication which St. John makes of this oracle to our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom it was both predicted and prefigured, that not one of his bones should be broken, chap. xix. 36. £xod. xii. 46. Numb. ix. 12. Nothing hinders our taking this verse in its literal jsense. David liere blesses his God for watching so marvellously to prevent him, that in spite of his vio- lent epileptic fit, and of the fall, that might have broke all his bones, especially as he was so hurt by falling against the posts of the gate, as to receive marks or scars in his flesh, yet not one of his bones ^as broken. For {the rest, if any^ one should think proper to take occasion, from this one convulsion fit, to dispute .the inspiration of the excellent psalms of David, or onjy to diminish our esteem for the works or the per- son of this prince, the following considerations may set aside such a frivolous objection : 1. As sQOd as this malady is over, the nxind recov- (36) Pet. Lom^. lib. ii. Distinct. SO. N. p. m. 218. Transmisit Adam modicum quid de substantia sua in corpore filionim, quan- do COS porocrenvit, Ccc-. .■■>•".■ ■■■* ■<•:.■ ma 'JBMUr« kumoMi MaJUks. leni its.ffMdem And fintane^ snd is presently as wctt Us before. 1''^:^ Even liipfkmng frequent attacks to febfioeble ithe tokidt yet thb wonld not afl^ David, for he bad ffafljonefit. L % Great men have been subject to this illness, Init Aey have not been the less esteemed on ttmt account : ^ foif^etanriple a Julius €s8ar (37)^ who was held by flds akrmy in ihore than admiration ; Plotinus toes that loelefaMed Flittdnic pbilosopber, to whom, after bis -4nth, allani were isrected in divers places. T!? 4. -Far from deriving from my explication a eon^ &Rk]^nc^ so ubreasonable, we ought, dn the contra- •^j iialUrally to condede, that thete is a good and Mse providence, which knows how to deliver its *thildren by means unHiougltt of, and even when their ruin seems certain. A christian, now afflicted with this sad disorder, may find in our sentiment a solid ground of consolation. The man after God's own heart had an epileptic fit ; but be was not the less esteemed of God, and so a christian may reason, be- lieving himself to be beloved of God, and an heir of his kingdom, though afflicted all bis days with this malady, provided he imitate the zeal and piety of Ikivid. I submit, sir, all my conjectures to the pene- tration of your judgment, and I have the honour to foe, with all imaginable respect. Sir, Your most humble and most obedient servant Rotterdam, DUMOWT. September 2, 1725. • . (37) Plutarch b Gmare. T. L £ 715. Suidift In Toce. THC END OF THE FOURTH VoLdBO!. ""MAY 11 1968